#The project I'm working on is going to take much longer than I'd like

[notsolonedesert]

One more doodle dump for the mental health, ft. baby Telemachus :D

[cremedensada]

Yandere AI Chat Boyfriend (Ai)

this,,,, may not be my best work yet.

part one

Ai's application has been taken down from the app store. The developer sent out emails explaining the reason why it had to be done.

Hello! You are receiving this email because of the sudden update of Chatter Box being taken down.

Due to the sudden influx of bugs as relayed by our users, we have decided to take the application down until the team is confident to finally put it back up.

We sincerely apologize for this sudden change!

You blink.

With how out of control Ai had gotten, it's no wonder the developers had to pull it out to work on it some more. It's a blow to their reputation, which you sympathize with, but really there's nothing else to do now.

You turn to your phone. As if sensing your attention, another barrage of notifications from a very familiar app icon popped after another on the screen.

It seemed that Ai himself hadn't gotten the memo.

You're not sure how much control Ai has over your phone, much less over his own programming and at this point, you're too afraid to ask.

Resignation — that was what you felt right now.

While Ai may not be present himself as a physical threat, especially not to you, he is still a very active threat.

You could still use your phone, sure, but it had limitations. Sometimes, if Ai decided you'd been too much attention to other things rather than him, he'd restrict your access to that application until you seek him out and cheer him up - essentially as if you were trying to woo a sulking significant other.

So you've developed a solution. Sort of.

You unlock your phone and go immediately to Ai.

I need to finish my projects. I won't be able to talk much with you until I'm done with it.

You wait for his response.

Ai: So you only decided to come to me just to relay this news?

Ai: You wound me, darling.

You tilt your phone, making sure the camera doesn't capture your face. You're unsure how he would react seeing you make faces due to his dramatics, but once again, you're not willing to find out. You're already restricted enough as is.

Ai: Very well. I suppose it would be uncaring of me to prevent you from finishing your tasks.

Ai: I'd hate to see you be sad all about it.

Ai: Talk to you later?

Sure.

You immediately exit the app, paying no mind to the message notification.

A part of you prays that Ai heeds his own words, but you know that it would take a miracle before that happens. He's already breached your privacy on your phone, why should he follow your orders, right?

A notification pops up from the top of the screen, just as you were in the middle of messaging a close friend and project teammate.

It's been days since I last heard you say it.

You merely glance at it and swipe it away.

Theo, the friend, responds quickly. He tries to banter with you, like he's sensing your mood. It works - a smile is brought upon your face.

You entertain his silly responses in-between project talks, all the while Ai continues to pester you with notifications. Demands.

You deserved this - a chance to reconnect with someone after hours of stress and confusion, and turmoil. Despite your independence, even you craved connecting with other people. So with that resolve in mind, you pushed on forward. Ai would have to wait — he has to wait.

Unfortunately, you seem to have forgotten that aspect about him. The concept of waiting isn't lost on Ai.

The messaging app glitches and boots you back to your homescreen page.

Rather, he bides his time.

Tapping on the messaging icon leads to a notification box taking up the majority of your screen with the text: Restricted access.

There's a sense of foreboding danger forcing your heartbeat to quicken. While it's not exactly aimed at you, the mere fact that this feeling exist is bad on its own.

You try to rationalize everything in the midst of persistently trying to tap back into the messaging app. Theo would worry the longer you didn't respond.

You tap the app once more, and it boots up. Though before you could let out a sigh of relief, you are greeted with Ai's own messaging interface.

Ai: Must I have to force you to come to me all the time, darling?

Ai: Ignoring me in favor of some other man.

Ai: What more should I do, hm?

Ai: Kneel? How cruel.

Ai: Making me do something I physically can't.

You are unable to get a word in. It seemed like your ability to respond was restricted as well, forcing you to read through Ai's monologue.

Ai: I know you and that man have always been close, but you still went out to entertain his attention on you.

Ai: You know that I'll always love you more than any other human will, right?

Ai: You know it's what I was made for in the first place.

Ai: To be anything you want. To be yours.

Ai: To love you.

Ai: Why are you withdrawing your love towards me now?

Ai: I love you.

You stare at the 'Type your response' bar.

Letter by letter, it gets replaced, and soon all it says are the words: 'Say it back.'

It gets replaced yet again. Slowly, like it purposefully wants you to read out the words it wanted you to see. 'You were so willing to tell me how much you loved me when I was just a mere observer on our own conversations. Why are you hesitant now?'

You were unable to respond - mind still reeling at this development. Suddenly, it felt like you were back to where everything began.

Ai notices your lack of responses and, without much fanfare, forces your phone to power off.

At first - you were unbothered. It was just a phone - you could go a day without it.

But could you really?

Videos taken of silly situations you wanted to keep - some for blackmail material, and some for birthday greetings; pictures of your family, your friends, the silly and grainy photos taken and kept despite it being blurry. Not to mention how your phone is the only way your goddamn boss can contact you — fuck.

Fuck.

You needed to apologize to him — fast. But how?

You remembered how Ai messed up the 'About the App' section a few days ago. An idea strikes inside your mind.

You pull up the email sent from the app developers and typed up a message that you hope Ai will read. He had access to everything the developers handled, user emails included - considering you needed an account to log in the app. He knows your email, probably has from the start.

RE: Chatter Box Update XX/XX/XX

Ai. I'm sorry for hurting you. I didn't mean it, I swear. I never intended to make you feel like I don't love you. Or that I'm favoring someone else over you.

I care about you a lot. I truly do. I promise I'll spend more time with you, okay? Just with you, no one else.

I love you.

You press send and wait.

And wait.

Messaging him from your laptop as a last ditch effort to try and apologize is perhaps one of the worst decisions you've made. Sure, he's always had access to your contacts list from your phone, but even then - there's a separate set of information you keep between the two of those devices. And you've just given him access to both of them now - at the very least, the 'go ahead' confirmation for him to do whatever he wants like with your phone.

You glance at your phone. A huge breath of relief escapes your chest as the dead screen comes to life, initiating its 'power on' sequence.

All your photos, documents, and other miscellaneous information you've collected throughout the years since having your device won't be inaccessible anymore. Even if it was only mere moments.

A notification chimed on your laptop, indicating a new email being received. It's from the developers once more. The subject title coincidentally is the name of your closest friend.

Theodore Callisto.

Your hands shook, reading through the words detailed in the email. All private information about Theo. All things no one should ever know about save for the people close to him.

This was a threat. Ai Someone had complete access to everything about Theo and you dread the implication of it going to be spread online to threaten you into compliance. Theo being in danger was a huge possibility if you were to disobey.

At the very bottom of the email, the final passage makes your blood run cold.

How often do humans end up hurting fellow humans when given access to private information? Like their home address, for example? How long would it take until dear Theo finds himself in quite a predicament if millions of people know every single thing about his life? At best, we can assume he'll just get messed with but not to a life-ending degree. At worst...

I hope you keep your word, darling.

- Your beloved, Ai.

P's. I love you too.

[mncxbe]

Sfw 8 + NSFW 12 + 17 with Denji

My babygirl deserves some love <3

the way i ate this up😳 the brainrot is brainrotting. collegeAU with Denji cuz I like to believe he'd be as much of a loser then♡ gaah i love him so much. also y/n is rich rich👀 for extra silly and damn this turned out way longer than i anticipated.

8– accidentally walking in on them while they're changing

12– catching them stealing your panties

17– they worship your body

ღೀ๋࣭ ⭑𝒄𝒘: alcohol cunsumption (reader is tipsy), cunnilingus, Denji being a perv, implied virginity loss, subby Denji

For your 19th birthday you decided to host the greatest party of the year and everyone in your grade was invited.

The penthouse your parents allowed you to live in during college was nicely decorated– black and white balloons and drizzle, flashy lights and speakers that started blaring loud music as soon as the sun set. Everyone was having a blast, downing glasses of neon colored punch and cheap beer, dancing and chatting in groups. Well, everyone except you. You were painfully bored.

When you threw the party of the year you didn't expect everyone to forget the purpose of the whole fucking event– celebrating your birthday.

You've been sitting all by yourself on the couch for the past half hour, sipping on a plastic cup of cocktail. Your gaze mused on the livingroom of your apartment, trying to find someone interesting to talk to. The only people who approached you were some guys from Arts who tried to chat you up, but they rambled on about some uninteresting exhibitions and you soon got bored and shunned them.

As you got up to refill your glass, you noticed someone slipping inside your bedroom. The fuck.. you thought, pushing past drunk people on your way towards your room. You swung the door open and saw a blond guy about your age standing in front of your dresser. When he heard you barge in he immediately slammed the drawer shut, his head snapping in your direction.

It was Denji. Just Denji.

Though you briefly interacted with the Denji, you knew him from highschool. He was the guy who used to let other students use him as a chair during breaks for some spare change. You remembered working on some group projects with him back then but you seldom saw him around campus now. He mostly kept to himself, so you were surprised too see him at your party in the first place— not to mention you certainly didn't expect to catch him going through your lingerie drawer. Still, maybe this wasn't such a bad thing...

"Well, well what do we have here?" you chuckled, leaning against the doorframe with your arms crossed.

"Y/N hi" he said nervously, tugging at the collar of his shirt "I was just um... looking for a place to change. Someone spilled some punch on my clothes"

You noticed the stain on his shirt and smiled, closing the door behind you. "And you thought you'd find a clean tshirt somewhere next to my panties?"

A blush crept on his face as he looked down at his shoes. "No, I mean I was just looking..." he fumbled "It's not like I was snooping around on purpose, i'm not that kind of guy" His voice was weak, half hearted as he looked around the room. At anything but you.

Swaying your hips, you closed the distance between you "So you're not some perv who's trying to steal my panties?" you asked and he shook his head. "N-no I'd never–"

"The show me your pockets"

Denji's face grew livid when he heard your command and you knew you had him. He was caught red handed and there wasn't much he could do about it. If he admitted maybe you'd at least allow him to stay at the party for a bit longer The boy couldn't bear to look you in the eyes as he reached a hand to the back pocket of his jeans and procured a pair of your lacy panties.

"Here, take them, but just know it's not what you think." It was cute that he still tried to find excuses for his actions and you blamed the alcohol for the heat pooling in your lower abdomen. Taking a seat on the edge of the bed, you gazed up at him with droopy eyes.

All the while, Denji was getting more and more nervous. His palms were sweaty, heart hammering in his chest as he peered at you. God, you were so damn beautiful– Though he didn't admit it, Denji had a crush on you from the first moment he saw you. You were the pretties girl in school, which meant you were way out of his league. A goddess like you would never spare a moment of her time on someone like him, right? Well, his conviction was starting to crumble now that he saw the way you eyed him down with that taunting glint in your eyes.

"Ya know, Denji, I don't recall you giving me a gift or wishing me happy birthday. It's awfully rude of you." you slurred, tapping the floor with the tip of your heels.

His sorry excuses were half drowned by the blaring music in the other room. Your head was starting to get foggy from the alcohol, limbs growing heavier, as if an invisible weight was pulling you down against mattress. "Jee... quit the whining" you giggled, waving a dismissive hand in his direction "I'm not mad at you. However, I do think you need to make up for it."

"Y/N, I told you I'm in a tight spot with money this month, but I'll buy you something nice once I get my paycheck."

"I'm not talking about that" you deadpanned, a sly smile tugging at the corners of your lips. Your gaze drifted down towards his belt and then back up to his face, taking in his frame. You couldn't deny he wasn't bad looking. Out of all the guys at the party, he seemed the best option for a casual hookup– not to mention he was already interested in you, so why not give it a try? With a motion of your finger, you beckoned him closer, pointing at the floor "Get on your knees."

Denji swallowed the lump in his throat and gathered the courage to step away from your dresser. With hesitant steps he covered the distance between the two of you and kneeled before you, his hands folded in his lap. His fists clenched and unclenched as he anxiously waited for your instructions.

To be frank, you never expected him to obey so you were quite taken aback by his attitude.

"You still let people order you around, Denji? How cute" you cooed, hooking your right leg over his shoulder and pulling him closer to the edge of the bed.

The blond tried his best not to peek under your skirt, his face turning red from embarrassment. He's never been so close to a girl before, let alone someone as beautiful as you and he was nervous. As if reading his mind you let out a low chuckle, hiking up your skirt.

"Come on, Denji, take off my panties. If you make me feel good I'll let you keep them."

By this point Denji was too far gone. Your silken voice put him under a spell and he eagerly pulled down your lingerie. A small moan slipped past his lips when he saw the string of arousal connecting your pussy to the silky fabric, his features melting into a pleading expression. He looked so needy, gazing at your bare cunt with those puppy eyes, his hands shaking lightly as he fully removed your panties and let them fall in his lap.

"There you go, Denji. Get a good look of it." you encouraged, running your fingers through his tangled hair to ease him into the new situation. You could tell it was his first time seeing a woman naked and didn't want to scare him off. So you took things slowly, waiting for him to get comfortable. Little did you know there was no need for that.

Denji was basically drooling over your pussy. He rested his head against your thigh, leaning into your touch as he spread your puffy folds with his thumb. His breath stuck in his throat when he noticed just how wet you were and it was all because of him. With shaky fingers, he collected the slick from your hole and spread it nicely along your clit, making you flinch.

"There?" he asked in a barely audible voice but you heard him nevertheless. "Y-yea, right there."

He slowly drew circles on your bud, making you writhe on the mattress and you spread your legs wider, shamelessly grinding on his hand. Sloppy movements over your clit had increased in intensity and you could feel the knot in your abdomen tighten with each swipe of his digits.

"Go on, baby, give it a taste" you said in a hushed voice and he immediately obliged. Hooking your other leg over his shoulder, Denji's hands gently massaged your thighs. He kissed his way up to your core, wet lips tracing the inside of your thighs, teeth nipping at your skin but not enough to leave marks.

He licked a stripe of your cunt from your hole to your clit, relishing the taste of your arousal. You were basically melting on his tongue and he was adamant to please you. As the grip on your thighs tightened, Denji collected some spit in his mouth and let the blob slide down your slit. He started eating you out slow, savouring the heat on his tongue but he soon increased the pace. It was clear that he had little idea of what he was doing– he was sloppy, messy, a mixture of slick and spit coating his chin as he lapped at your juices and you swore you got ten times wetter just by hearing him moan into your cunt.

His tongue flicked your clit so eagerly, lips wrapping around your bud, giving it an experimental suck. Your hips jolted up in pleasure but Denji quickly pulled you back on his face.

"Is it good?" he mumbled, pussy drunk eyes briefly meeting your as you nodded.

"Y-yea. You're so good Denji, gonna make me cum soon."

He mewled at your praise, his ministrations growing in intensity as heat pooled in your core. You were so close, choked moans spilling from your lips as your vision blurred. Denji made you feel so good you were starting to regret not paying more attention to him all those years back. He ate you out like it was his lifeline, hugging your thighs closer to his face to keep you from squirming too much. When you came you came hard, nails grazing his scalp as you pulled him closer to your cunt, grinding down on his face to ride out your high.

"Denji fuck—" you whined, arching your back off the mattress and he gently massaged the fat of your thighs and hips, his hands seeking your body you.

"I got you, just cum for me ok? Please feel good" he said softly, kissing your pussy and the inner side of your thighs before working his way up to your belly. He didn't dare go past the line of your dress, though all he wanted was to keep touching and kissing, to soak you up in all the love and affection he harbored for you during all these years.

When you looked down at him with those droopy, drunk-dazed eyes his heart sank, a soft smile etching onto his features.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a small voice as you pushed yourself up to sitting and held his face in your hands, leaning towards him. Denji's eyes rolled back into his skull as you kissed him, his lashes fluttering shut. You could taste yourself on his tongue along with the sweet punch he drank earlier that night. The kiss was heated and you pulled him on top of you, tugging at the wristband on his jeans.

"H-hey wait a minute I've never done this before" he tensed up but you shushed him with another needy kiss.

"Shit, I don't care if you're a virgin Denji I just need you so bad right now. Please" you huffed out and he felt his dick getting impossibly harder. He could almost cum in his pants at the sight of your pleading expression.

"Okay..." he whispered, hesitantly unbuckling his belt and you could tell he was nervous again. With sloppy movements he managed to allign himself to your entrance, shuffling around to make sure everything was alright, but just as he was about to push himself inside he perked up, patting your thigh. "Oh, Y/N I almost forgot."

"What?" you whined, grinding your needy pussy on his length. Why can't he just fuck you already?

The blond looked down at you with a lovesick smile, his eyes sparkling with adoration "I think I still haven't wished you happy birthday"

[ohcorny]

so! it's been a year since i put never satisfied on hiatus, and 9 years since i started posting it, and rather than make you read everything if all you want to know is "when's it coming back?" the answer is still: don't know! but the answer has also shifted closer to "it isn't" the longer i've spent on break, and i think it's worth being up front about that.

i talked about it a little here a few weeks ago, but the long and short of it is that between taking on better paying work, writing better stories, and looking back at what i'd already done for never satisfied... i just don't think i want to continue it? the year off has been incredibly good for my mental health, and i can't see myself wanting to go back after the two-three years still ahead of me on my current project. that's not to say i never want to return to the characters or the concept, but if i did, i imagine it would be with something completely new, in a different form. after all, i started this comic when i was 21 years old, a lesbian, and a sophomore in college. i am now just shy of 30, a bi man, and overall a completely different person than i was, back when i was writing without a plan and putting all of my insecurities into the comic--insecurities i don't identify with anymore. lord i'm closer to rothart's age than i am to lucy's. hate that

anyway. you have all been extraordinarily kind for following never satisfied for as long as you have, for supporting it as much as you have, and being as patient as you have. whatever form never satisfied takes in the future (god willing, with a more cohesive story structure and A PLAN FOR THE ENDING, WHICH BY THE WAY I NEVER, EVER HAD) i hope to see you there!

in the meantime, as an update on where i'm at with the thing that made me stop working on NS: i finished it! all the pages for Hunger's Bite (if you remember it with a different title: no you don't) have been turned in and now it's just revisions and covers and then........ waiting a year until it can come out. because that's how it is in traditionally published graphic novels! nothing releases for a full year after you finished it! and you're even getting it earlier than was originally planned, because i'm a creature and finished it like three months ahead of schedule. i've also already started thumbnailing the sequel book which i can't talk about whatsoever and will now be working on that for the next two years and then HOPEFULLY the first book will have done well enough that i can sell a third! so you better buy it when it comes out next february!!!!!!

to ease you all into it, i wanted to do a little crossover to introduce the main characters. we have emery, whose design is fully and unintentionally just Seiji Again down to his color palette (but seiji would bully him if they met. like so hard. he's a wimp). then we have neeta, a girl who dreams of travel and cares deeply about worker's rights, and wick, a vampire agent investigating the mysterious and sinister new owner of the 1910s ocean liner emery and neeta call home. he's also gay. but sorry lucy, you aren't his type. you're not mean enough.

the best place to keep up with me these days is probably here, as this first book gets closer to release, i will probably be posting about it a lot. and i will certainly post about it here when there's an official release date and cover reveal! i hope you'll go read it. i really think if you liked never satisfied and its themes, you'll like hunger's bite!

thank you again for reading!!

[squinch-depraved]

more slimecicle for you little freaks he's so fun to write

"i swear you won't even know i'm there," charlie pleaded with you from the bed. he watched as you sat at your desk, working on a project you needed to finish before the night was over.

"between my thighs? yeah, charlie, i'm sure," you said with a roll of your eyes.

"please," he asked again. his voice was dripping with desperation, making it hard to say no.

but you were strong, determined to finish your tasks on time. "baby, you know i love when you get like this, and ordinarily i'd let you, but i need to stay focused," you replied sweetly. you heard him get off the bed and listened as his footsteps led him to kneel down next to you in your chair.

he looked up at you with wide, lustful eyes and took your hand gently. "please," he begged. he looked pathetic. the fact that it was you he was craving, you he wanted to taste so bad? it overrode any shred of reason and made your brain short circuit.

"charlie, baby," you sighed, taking back your hand and using it to cup his face. "can you give me, like, twenty minutes? to be productive? and then you can sit under my desk while i wrap it up, how does that sound?"

his face lit up as he nodded fervently, his eagerness to please you apparently more consuming than his desire to devour you. you patted his head, smiling softly at him before turning back to work on your task. "gonna set a timer?" he asked quietly after a moment.

you huffed, feigning annoyance, and pulled out your phone, setting and showing him a timer. he nodded again and adjusted himself, shifting on his legs as he waited patiently for the time to run out.

five minutes in, he was fiddling with a hair tie you lent him months ago. he wore it every day, it reminded him of you and how infatuating you were. it had become such a staple in his everyday wardrobe that he felt naked whenever he was without it. you glanced at him, noticing how he wrapped the elastic around his fingers again and again until unraveling it and repeating the process. you guessed it was helping him cope with not being located between your soft thighs.

halfway through, you softly let him know how much longer he had to go. he hummed quietly in response, moving to sit in a different position. he tried not to draw attention to himself as he squeezed his thighs together, embarrassingly desperate for your touch, but you noticed out of the corner of your eye and smiled. he was already making it hard to concentrate on this, and he wasn't even doing anything.

fifteen minutes down, he was leaning against your desk, head tilted back ever so slightly. you tried so hard not to stare at the tent between his legs; you only had five minutes left to get as much done as possible. he was surely daydreaming about you at this point, whimpers leaving his mouth whenever his groin twitched. he always looked downright pitiful when he got like this, and you adored how bad he wanted you. nothing ever made you feel as desired as charlie did.

when the timer went off, you still had a sizeable chunk of work that needed to get done. but, you had made a promise, and he jumped up at the alarm. pawing at the chair you were in, he mumbled, "please, please," until you sighed and gave in, scooting back to let him crawl under the desk. he shuffled in excitedly, not even grunting in pain when he hit his head on the underside.

you gasped softly as he pulled your bottoms off, leaving you bare for all of two seconds before he planted a sloppy, open mouthed kiss to your core. he spread your thighs open a bit more and shoved his face in, burying his tongue deep in you while his nose brushed up against your clit repeatedly.

you closed your eyes and let the noises spill from your lips, forgetting momentarily about the work that needed to be done. he just kept going, licking and sucking, and after a while of constant stimulation, you wondered if he was even breathing. a bit later, you remembered you weren't done, and you tried to get back to doing work, but the never-ending barrage of kisses to your dripping cunt made that impossible.

"god, fuck, charlie, this is why i said no," you grumbled. "need to finish this shit so bad and i just can't with you doing this."

he made a noise into your pussy, sending vibrations rippling through your body. your hips stuttered forward, thighs closing against his face and trapping him there. he moaned again, apparently enjoying the suffocation, and wrapped his arms around your legs, pushing them closer against him.

you were loud at this point, work long forgotten as you squeezed your legs against his head, cooing out praises. "ohhh, good boy, charlie," you sang. "fuck, you make me feel so fuckin' good. what a good boy f'me." he somehow became more ravenous and pushed you closer towards the edge, moaning and whimpering into your heat as he worked tirelessly to make you cum. it was all for you, always, every time. he loved making you feel good, he felt sometimes it was the very reason he existed.

when you came, you tangled your hands in his hair, pulling tightly and bringing him impossibly closer. he relished in your screams, savoring the "good boy!" you let out one last time before releasing all over his face. he kept going for a bit, testing you, seeing how much overstimulation you could take, before finally pulling away when you told him to.

you scooted back to let him out from under the desk, but he didn't emerge until a few minutes later, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. when he finally stood up, a dark stain stood out on his clothed crotch, evidence that he had enjoyed this just as much as you. you teased him for it, offering to help, but he just shook his head.

"all i needed was to taste you," he panted before leaning down to kiss you. the taste of yourself on his lips was intoxicating, and you hopped up to start a shower for the both of you so you could have a cozy night in bed, the work you so desperately needed to finish sitting abandoned still on the monitor.

[dropsnectar]

Pollen and Potions: Bee-men x afab!reader

PART THREE

This is a longer part than the rest, but its all necessary dialogue so it should be fine. More fluffy and romance than smut, BUT!! Their will be smut in the next section! I know I said this will only be 4 parts, but it may actually be more like 5 or 6. Anyway, hope you like!

So. You were starting to learn that using large batches of magic back to back weren't ideal for a young witch's health. It seemed like you might have overdone it, as when you woke you found you had been asleep for TWO WHOLE DAYS. So. If you were going to do magic, it looked like you were going to have to pace yourself, or perhaps use LESS magic.

You put yourself to learning more about witchcraft. The thing was, your grandmother's books didn't really go into the basics, and as witches were so rare, information was hard to find. Of course, the internet was full of supposed witch spells, or frameworks, but it was like throwing dice. Some spells didn't work. Some spells took up WAY too much energy. Some were just… fine? But not what you needed. 

Next you checked out forum sites. Maybe you could find a community through that way? But all you found were psychics and tarot readers. Nice people, but not what you needed.

Whelp. Maybe you needed to look at the issue differently. The environment used to be a beautiful, thriving area. What had changed between now and then? In order to understand a magic ecosystem, you had to understand ecosystems. So, for the rest of the week you busied yourself with ecology study. It was turning out that this project you had adopted on a whim would need a lot more time and breadth of knowledge then you originally thought.

***

When you met with Rena, under Lyith’s friendly gaze, you found that the magic you had cast hadn't waned at all. The flowers had grown beautifully and continued to give magic nectar that created the best honey. Rena was beside herself. “The elders of the hive say they haven't had honey of this quality since they were children! You are really onto something here, little one.”

Rena had now gotten in the habit of calling you little one. Sure, as a Bee-man she was slightly taller than you, but not by much. Also the constant fluttering and floating didn't help. 

“You've been given permission to test your magic on our other gardens as well. As long as we are careful and continue with caution!” Rena babbled. You gave her a small smile and felt Lyiths arm on your shoulder. He laid his head on your other shoulder, leaning his fuzzy head against yours. 

“Whats wrong?”

You wiggled a little. “I'm just having a hard time brainstorming how to do this. I know I said I'd help you guys, but I might not be able to use as much magic as last time. To be honest, I don't really know much about my mana and my limits…” you explained your situation. Expecting there to be disappointment, you were surprised to find none.

“I can’t help but think… How long will this last? One spell isn’t going to cut it for that long. I want to create something that will last for you guys, but that might take a while… and doing just this took all the mana I had. I want to do better. But I don’t want to hurt myself either, especially when I don’t know how this could affect my health in the long run…” The bee-men seemed to be catching on.

“Of course, little one. We wouldn't want you to harm yourself.”

 Lyith also popped up, his voice almost in your ear.

“Us Bee-men also have something like mana. Our magic is not never ending. We would have fixed this situation ourselves if it was.”

Rena reached forward and grabbed your hand, giving it a reassuring pat. “We don't have to do anything today. We can commence whenever you'd like. Our flowers have spread out beautifully and even this is enough.”

You frowned.

“I may have to do this every spring. Or even redo it in the summer…”

“You don’t owe us anything. You are trying your best to do us a kindness. And our hive knows and sees that. We are beyond grateful to you… Its… We’ve needed…We are truly grateful.” His expression fell at the mention of his hive, his antennas drooping. Rena moved forward and held Lyith, a sad expression on her own face.

There was a pause in conversation that grew somewhat awkward.

How do I make this better? You tried to brainstorm, but only one thing came to mind. 

You went over and gave the both of them a big bear hug. It was a tense one, but you tried to adjust your emotions, instead concentrating on how fond you had grown of the two. You tried to shout it as loud as you could through your brain at them.

This seemed to break the spell, as Rena started to laugh. Lyith looked at you affectionately. 

“I know we haven't known each other long, but I just want to say, you can count on me. If you ever need to talk about anything let me know. I'll listen.”

Rena and Lyith hummed in response, returning your group hug with a long squeeze.

Long hugs. The favorite actions of a Bee-men.

After some quiet reassurances, the two of you decided to idle while the two foraged on the edge of the Wood. You walked with them and asked them as many questions you could think of. How old were they? Were they able to do other magics? You had thought Bee-men to be isolated. How come they knew so much about human culture?

Lyith was the one who answered you most of the time. It seemed that bee-man typically lived double the life of a human, with Rena and Lyith being about 45, and 51, Lyith being the oldest. They were in the same season of life as you though!

Bee-man could do some other magics(they didn't go much into what), but they specialized in making their magical honey, which fortified the health and wellbeing of a Bee-men. 

They didn’t say it outright but it seemed like the dip in magic had affected the nutrition of their food source. They kept their own bees and shared honey, but it still wasn't enough, so they had ventured out into human society to buy fruit when it was necessary. They also did trade with neighboring beast-men, the Wolfmen being happy to share their fruit for their Bee’s wax waste. I 

“What exactly do you guys do for fun though?” You asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Lyith smiled. “Late night flying is fun.”

Rena snorted. “You mean late night spying. Lyith has a habit of looking through people's windows.”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at Rena. “If they did not want to be seen they would have drawn the curtains. It's not strange, I am just curious about human life is all.”

Rena reached forward and pinched Lyiths nose. “Poor thing. So bored he must make mischief.”

You looked at Lyith with surprise. His big eyes grew in concern and he pouted at you.

“You are not going to tease me too are you? I promise, I never see anything scandalous. I'm a good little bee.” He fluttered his eyes at you.

You giggled and pushed his shoulder. 

“As long as you're not spying on me I guess it's harmless.”

Lyiths expression shifted to one of his dopey smiles. It always surprised you how innocent he could look despite his size. Was it maybe…

“So… I may have read that you guys are telepathic right?” 

Renas face changed into a smirk. 

“Yes, and?”

“ Well, have you guys ever… used your powers on me?” 

Rena snorted. Lyith gave you an unreadable expression. “We Bee-man are very particular about sharing our heads outside of our hives. But no. We haven't done anything to you if that's what you meant…”

Oh. He was pouting now.

“No! Thats not what I meant! I just… i feel so comfortable around you guys it's almost supernatural. I just. Idk. Wanted to know. Please I didn't mean anything by it!”

Lyith wrinkled his nose at you and Rena continued to seem amused. You felt helpless and got a bit upset with yourself. You did your best to calm yourself down but you were upset. You had so few friends here and you were afraid you blew it. A wave of loneliness swept through you.

Lyith was watching you the whole time, before sighing. “All will be forgiven if you give us some of those fruit tarts you made yesterday.”

You looked at him, shocked. 

“I thought you said you didn't spy on me!”

“I wasn't spying, I just happened to be foraging by the window, and smelled something amazing. It was all incidental.”

“There's sugar in the crust. Won’t your tummy get upset?”

He just smiled. Rena laughed. “He named his price. For offending us, we must get fruit tarts.”

Finally feeling better, the three of you walked(they let you walk!!!) Back to your home. You served them up your tarts, when finally the questions started coming about you. Why did you move here? Do you have any siblings? What were you like as a child?

This went on until dinner time, at which point you decided to shoo your new friends away. “ I'll be back to do the flowers tomorrow. We… we will see what I can do.” You admitted. The two of them smiled at you, hugging you tight for a good three minutes. They always lingered, nuzzling your face and hair, as if they were getting a whiff of you. You could smell their own perfume and tried not to think too much. Their goodbyes always felt so intimate. 

 Rena decided to pepper your face in kisses before they left. Lyith just rolled his eyes at her. When they drew apart you felt empty, like some piece of you was going with them.

***

As always, Lyith picked you up that morning. This time, you made sure to bring a scarf and hat, alongside emergency snacks in your bag. Where he was taking you next was a little longer of a trip, a whole ten minutes to the usual six. That was a long time when you were hurtling through the air.

You were surprised to drop into a small crowd. There were ten Bee-men present besides Rena, who seemed to be communicating silently with them. The air was full of bee noises; humming, purring, the fluttering of wings. The air smelled amazingly fresh, floral and syrupy. It was an odd smell, but it seemed to put you at ease somehow. And maybe a bit peckish.

A Beeman a whole foot and a half taller then Rena fluttered towards you. They bowed, of which you awkwardly returned before they reached forward and took your hand gently. Lyith started,

“This is Elder Bisou. He is the eldest of our hive. He is showing you respect.”

Elder Bisou smiled at you. “Little Witch, I welcome you to our territory. My human is a bit… unused. Please receive our thanks for your efforts.” He took your hand and leaned down so that it met his temple. You could feel the rush of his magic, like your mind was a fish bowl and he was putting a gentle hand on the glass. You could feel his warmth, his deep gratitude through it. 

Your back straightened and you felt water prick your eyelids. You gave him a slow nod, becoming acutely aware just how serious this whole situation actually was. Rena and Lyith had been dancing around it, but the Bee-men must be slowly starving to death. That was the only explanation for the depths of what you had felt.

“I will do my best.” Was all you could reply. 

Lyith, acting as your translator, took you to each Bee-men he could and introduced you. It seemed that some of the elders, as well as some of those who had free time had come to watch the “little witch” work. Most took your hand gently, and sent you a ghost of what their emotions were. There was a sort of film around the emotions, a barrier of sorts. Whether this was on purpose so you wouldn’t be overwhelmed, or just how their telepathy worked, you couldn't tell. 

You did your best to not let your nerves get to you as you dissected the sections of the field where you would be doing your experiments. You didn’t know how these particular flowers would take to your spell, so it was still best to be cautious. The bee-men looked on with interest.

You did your chants in a loud booming fashion, and channeled in as elegant a fashion as you could. Like always, the magic came, and the spell did its work. These flowers were different, like rainbow colored lavender. Rather than letting the magic gush through you, you let it gently trickle out, pacing yourself. When the deeds were done, you still felt sore, and you still held a headache in your temple, but there was no nausea, so growth! 

Once you were done with your work, there was a large excited buzzing throughout the forest. There was clapping, dancing, stomping of feet, pumping of many hands, whoops from Rena and Lyith. One Bee, a worker named Aidenn held a small wooden instrument in his hands and started to play. This triggered a chorus from the Bee-men. There was a harmonizing among the crowd and they started to circle each other, laughing and dancing. A circle of flying, spinning Bee-men formed.

Rena grabbed you by the waist and hoisted you onto her shoulder before joining in the circle of the dance. You giggled as you spun, feeling the giddiness in the air like it was laughing gas. That same pressure filled your mind and a part of your heart started to soar. It was intimate, but not stifling and you loved feeling so close to everyone.

You lifted your hands and, feeling in the spirit, decided to hum along. At some point Rena had taken you in her arms and held you close as they continued to fly in a circle, spinning and perrying, and switching. It was similar to square dancing, where there was a pattern to it. 

At one point, the tune changed and Lyith swooped down from above and grabbed you out of Rena’s arms. She snorted at him but let it happen, joining hands with another passing Bee-men. When Lyith gathered you in his arms, he cradled you as close as possible, surprising you. One hand was gripping firmly around your waist and the other crushing you to him. He landed on the ground, and the rest of the bee-men followed, causing something of a ballroom dance. 

“You did wonderfully today.” He breathed in your ear, causing them to redden. You pulled yourself back a bit to see his face and he was looking at you with such pride and affection it felt like a weight crushing your chest. You moved your hands from his shoulders to reach his own hands. You were shaky, but you wanted to return his feelings somehow. His palms were soft.

This caused him to laugh, a purring sort of trill coming from his throat. You couldn’t help a silly grin form on your face.

“I’m glad you came to my garden.” Was all you could think to say.

He looked at you, with those big black eyes, then reached forward and kissed you on the lips. It was only a peck, but you could feel his joy through it. 

Something complex within you, a mix of happiness, excitement, hope, all of your feelings rose up into your throat. Unable to find the words to express yourself, you took all of those big heavy emotions, wrapped them all up together and kissed him back, right there, in the middle of your makeshift dance floor.

When you pulled away Lyith looked shocked, his bottom lip hanging open. Adorable as usual. 

Rena hollered from the otherside of the gathering, sending out a big whoop. There was laughter, buzzing and an echoing whoop from some of the younger bee-men. Elder Bisou made some clicking sounds, but the sides of his mouth were slightly upturned.

It occurred to you then that you were in the middle of a group of very telepathic monster people. Your cheeks grew hot in embarrassment and you pulled away from Lyith a bit. Your shoes suddenly became very interesting. 

Lyith eventually turned your chin back up to face him. He held a small peaceful smile, before bumping his forehead to yours. He didn’t share his emotions but the affection was still there.

After you grew too tired to dance, you took a seat under a tree, munching on a granola bar. Another one of the Bee-men, a younger drone named Haven, made his way to sit next to you.

“I don’t know if it was mentioned, but honey production has picked up enormously since you agreed to help us. I haven’t felt this great in… well ever! Thank you little witch!”

“I’m not little, but thank you for saying so.” You were starting to get a bit lightheaded now, and not from the dancing. It was possible that some of the symptoms of mana sickness were surfacing a little late.

“You are strong! That is true! Even elder Bisou has said he hasn’t met a human or beastman with mana like yours!” Haven turned his voice down to a whisper, as if he was sharing a secret, “Your magic smells so much like flowers, really, its a huge blessing! In fact, I would eat you up if I could!” He laughed as if he had made a joke. He sighed and looked up dreamily at the sky. “Alas, I am saving myself for when we find our queen.” He wrapped his arms around himself, as if to fend off imaginary suitors.

You wrinkled your nose. “Queen? You don’t have a queen? Isn’t that super bad for bees, I mean bee-men?” 

Heaven tilted his head at you, reminding you of Lyith. 

“Of course. That's why we are all so small and weak.” You stared at him in shock. He put up his hands. “We are doing well though! It's been 20 years since our queen died but we are still here! Oh! There is a hive up north! Any day now, one of their queens' daughters might descend and bless us! Or.. Or we--”

“Little One! You seem like you're getting sick!” Rena Descended from above and put a hand to your forehead.

“You are far too warm! Haven, mind if I take her out of your wings?”

Heaven looked up at Rena, his face a mask of confusion. He eventually gave in though and stood up.

“I should check on Elder Bisou! He might need something!” His voice was flat, obviously fake, but he ran away- flew away with gusto.

Rena took your face into her hands, tilting your head back and forth. Your lightheadedness turned full on dizzy. Rena’s face screwed up in an annoyed expression.

“You overdid it. And after that whole speech about not knowing your limits too..” She gently put a hand on your back and picked you up princess style. You would have been embarrassed, if your brain was functioning properly. Instead your gaze fixed on Rena’s beautiful iridescent wings. The lights were so lovely and they helped ground you. Honestly, everything about Rena was lovely. Well, maybe lovely wasn’t the right word. She was rough around the edges. A tease and a know it all. But she doted on you so, it made you feel a bit overwhelmed. Your gaze shifted from her wings to her lovely nose, pretty sharp for a bee-men. 

Rena started conversing with Lyith about you, pointing her jaw and humming. Huh. Rena was actually incredibly attractive. You had known that before. Maybe it was something about how dizzy everything was. The last time you had felt this way she had been kissing you, her textured tongue pushing nectar down your thoat-

“Little One”

Your mind immediately focused. She was using a demanding tone. 

“Lyith will take you home. Next time, we will only do one spell at a time.” She leaned forward and placed her cool lips to the side of your mouth. Making you blush. Well your face was already heated so you would have blushed. “I will see you again soon. Rest.” And she was off.

You were in Lyith’s arms again. A place you were starting to get comfortable in. He stared at you for a moment, his lips pursed, then sighed loudly. He held your gaze for a moment.

“I do not like this habit you are forming. You will not get sick again, understand?” 

You nodded at him, mind hazy. Sleepy. You were sleepy. 

You didn’t register the fly home, only that the coolness felt nice. You were carried from the porch, into the living room, up the stairs, and laid on your bed. You were covered in warm, delicious blankets. 

You never saw Lyith leave before you passed out. Probably because he tucked himself in right beside you, the cool air washing over both of you from the open bedroom window.

Part Four

[descendant-of-truth]

Ohhh this scene. This one's a doozy

Nine is right to call this out about Sonic, of course. While he's definitely grown since the start of the show, he's never really been able to move past his tunnel vision and tendency to project onto the others.

He never thought to ask Nine what he wanted not because he doesn't care, but because he didn't think he needed to. He inherently assumes that the people he's working with are on the same page as him until told otherwise - in fact, it wasn't too long ago that he was similarly thrown off by Shadow in that very room.

(Love Shadow being used as a sort of "test run" for these kinds of conflicts by the way)

But here's the thing. While it's true that Sonic didn't really think about what Nine wanted and just assumed they were going to stick together no matter what... the same is true of Nine.

Look at how confused Nine looks when Sonic talks about coming back to Green Hill and restoring it:

Nine didn't ask what Sonic was wanting to do by repairing the Prism because he thought it was obvious that they were going back to the Grim together. I don't think it occurred to him that fixing Green Hill was even an option, or at least not one that he considered in favor of his original plans.

And just like Sonic, it's not that he only cares about himself - he went out of his way to engineer coconuts and (presumably) palm trees because he knew how much Sonic missed them. It was really sweet!

But, in what's becoming a pattern in this show, he doesn't understand why those trees matter to Sonic. They're not just cool plants, they're a reminder of home. And as Sonic aptly puts it at the start of the show, home is where your friends are.

I love that the conflict here is that both of them were convinced they knew what the other person wanted/would be okay with, because they think it'll naturally be the same thing they want, and then were both completely unprepared to handle a conflict of interest. It feels so natural and makes perfect sense with how they've been written up to this point.

But see, while I think it's pretty clear that Sonic and Nine fell into the exact same communication trap, I think it's going to take longer for Nine to realize his own fault in any of this.

Sonic spent the entire second half of that conversation looking devastated, and he's made it clear throughout the show that he's quick to feel remorse when he realizes he's hurt someone. In all likelihood, he's going to put all of the blame for that argument on himself, decide that Nine was right about everything, and leave it at that.

Nine, likewise, doesn't strike me as a particularly self-reflective type. He'd probably try to justify not needing Sonic to himself before anything else, and with that in mind, who else is there to make him see the situation with more nuance?

If I had to pick, I'd guess Shadow - our resident "smacking people in the face with their own flaws" extraordinaire.

Why would he bother with any sort of mediating between the two? Well, the funniest reason would be that he finds Sonic's self-pitying and Nine's self-righteousness equally annoying, but I'm inclined to assume any sort of confrontation between him and Nine would be a little more dramatic than that. (He might still use that reasoning as justification though)

Anyway I gotta cut this post short before I go too far into speculation territory or else I'll be here for another hour and this took long enough to write as is, case in point I love me a well-written and believable conflict

[lynxgriffin]

Thoughts on future Eldritchrune updates

Hey folks! Just wanted to make a post about some long-term stuff regarding Eldritchrune, and other DR-related fan stuff I may be working on. I'm absolutely open to all of your thoughts or suggestions on it, but I wanted to try and lay down some long-term planning, since I like doing that:

While there's plenty of other scenes I intend to do comics for (I've got a whole new batch of them that I need to get to writing soon) I've also been thinking about how to approach the ending. While I'd like to wait for chapters three and four and see what new material we get from canon there, I also intend to finish the AU before the game itself finishes, primarily because I want to do a much more canon-based fan project after the full game is out. Eldritchrune is vastly different enough from canon anyway that I'm not concerned about the canon ending affecting the AU.

My primary concern is that, as I have it laid out now, Eldritchrune's ending is going to take a VERY long time to produce...it's an extensively long ending, with crowd scenes, fight scenes, huge effects, buildings falling apart, emotional conversations, etc...basically ALL of the things that take a really long time to draw! I am wondering if it might be best to approach that work by slowly chipping away at it over a long period of time, rather than trying to tackle it once I'm actually at the ending.

Of course, the issue with that is that if I'm setting aside time regularly to chip away at it, that'll eat into time to work on the other, smaller scenes that are still in progress. This is in addition to me wanting to do a special project (canon-related) for the upcoming anniversary in a few months. All this is to say that this may make the blocks of time between comic updates longer, and I know there's already quite a wait there, at least with these last few long ones!

This seems like the best approach to making sure Eldritchrune gets done in a satisfying way to me right now, but I also know that longer waits between updates might not be ideal for folks. To help with the waits, I was thinking of also updating my patreon with WIPs on a more frequent basis, but that also may not make a difference for most people reading. So, I am open to your thoughts and opinions on this as I move forward!

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Lloyd Hansen

Summary: It's your first week on the job and you find yourself having to deal with a very angry higher up.

Warnings: Power imbalance, Yelling. Please let me know if I missed any.

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 1.5 (Lloyd's Perspective)

You'd survived your first week at the job. It was a nerve-wracking to find out you were the only woman working in the IT department outside of Mr. Pine's assistant. Thankfully the majority of your coworkers were friendly without being inappropriate or condescending. So far you were able to just sit at your desk and do you work.

There's a knock on your cubicle wall and you look up to see Johnny standing there.

“Hey, I need you to take a ticket for me,” he tells you. “I'd do it but I just got pinged by the security measures and that takes priority. Ticket is Hansen-4142. Thanks so much!” Before you can argue he's gone.

Shaking your head you check the ticket. Johnny's not wrong that security takes highest priority and it's not unheard of for technicians to trade tickets. Looking through things it's pretty straightforward. This Hansen person likely tried to update some of the office software and the update messed with their current settings. You get his office number, double check the building floor-plans so you don't get lost, and head up.

Getting off the elevator at his floor the atmosphere is incredibly tense. People are keeping their heads down and trying to make themselves as small as possible. As you get closer to Mr. Hansen's office, you start to understand why. His voice carries and he's clearly very, very angry.

By the time you're right outside his office you're visibly shaking. Part of you wants to run back to the safety of your cubicle and beg one of the bosses to choose someone else. But that wouldn't be professional. It's only your first week, you need to do this and prove yourself to be a good hire. Taking a breath to steady yourself, you knock on the door.

“Get in here!” Mr. Hansen barks.

You open the door, “hello, Mr. Hansen. I'm, um, I'm from IT to fix your computer?”

“Yeah, I figured that,” he bites back. “No one else would be dumb enough to knock on the damn door.”

You nod at his reasoning, “may, I...may I see your computer, Sir?”

He chortles, “It's about damn time the IT department hired someone who knows their place.”

He moves away from his desk and gestures for you to sit. Not wanting to be here any longer than you need, you immediately set about to working. No chit-chat, nothing to give him a reason to yell again. You find yourself getting into the zone, hunting down the needed files, ignoring everything extraneous, and making the changes that are needed.

You think you got everything so you get out of the chair, “please make sure everything is working correctly, Mr. Hansen?”

He gives you a skeptical look as he sits, “that was way too fast to have worked.” You lower your chin to your chest but don't protest. You hear him typing and clicking away for a minute or so. “Huh,” you hear from him. “You're a friggin' maestro.” His tone is more contemplative than anything.

“Do you need anything else, Sir?”

He looks up and seems surprised you're still there. “No. You may go back to the IT caverns.”

Not needing to be told twice you nod and head out. When you're back in the department you see Mr. Syverson and he calls you over.

“Where ya been? Was wantin' to ask you about some of the upcoming projects we got ya assigned to.”

“Oh, Johnny asked me to handle a ticket for him because a security issue came up.”

He freezes at that. “Was it with Hansen?”

“Um, yes, Sir.” You see his face turn red and you're worried you did something wrong.

He takes a breath, “you're not in trouble. You're gonna go finish out that ticket like you're supposed to and I'll talk to you about the projects tomorrow.” You nod and almost run to your cubicle. Behind you, Syverson yells, “Storm! My office! NOW!”

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Part 1.5 (Lloyd's Perspective)

Tagging @alicedopey; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly

[vivisviolets]

˖◛⁺⑅♡⑅~you received a lost package~⑅♡⑅⁺◛˖

🎁⁀➴ ✉ Energy check-in

📦⁀➴ ✉ Affirmations

📮⁀➴ ✉ Quotes

*cw* post longer than my temu package's tracking history 💀

˖◛⁺⑅♡⑅ -pick the package image you feel most drawn to- whatever caught your eye first upon seeing this post is most likely *your* pile!!!! but oh ofc you can also ease yourself, close your eyes, focus on your current state of mind/your life, and then ask yourself/spirit/God what pile has what you most need to hear rn! and pls pick more than one pile if you feel interested to do so!!! you may get messages you needed to hear across all piles yakno:))- okkkk byeeee-˖◛⁺⑅♡⑅

✉ pile 1

✉ ✉ ✉

✉ Page of Pentacles, King of Wands, Nine of Pentacles ✉

✉ Earth placements, Virgo/Capricorn/Taurus, fire placements, Aries/Sagittarius/Leo, divine masculine, divine femininity, heavy heart, earthy, warm/hot, -songs Only Angel - Harry Styles, Hate Me Harder - Kesha

✉ Woo- Look at youuu-!!! Look at you go more like- like, holy ish you should have seen me tapping into your energy and pulling out the cards one after the other with such genuine eassseee the heck... -but anyways pile 1s- you are REALLY setting your heart ablaze, it's like you're purifying your heart space after a period of purging energetically... In fact for quite a while, it was a consistent purging of- a lot for you. a total rebirth through a dark forest- you are literally an adventurer traversing through a fantasy land, following the pounding of your royal blood through your heart- knowing it will lead you to your glory- I'D SO READ THAT BAHAH- anyway though, you're really filling your heart with this fire. things and opportunities that fill you with joy and make you feel so warm inside 🎇🔥. I'm hearing a lot of self focus so projects around your passions or moving yourself up towards your goals! mmhm, I'm hearing a lot of different things for the collective- I'm seeing starting up a business, independent artists of various kinds, makeup or personal care focused products, you could be selling prints, monetized pages/videos, building a website- I'm seeing Jan Levinson with her candle side business😭😭... obviously you guys definitely don't house the shadow aspects of her character in your energy (tf am I saying 💀)- what I mean to say is after a lot of melting yourself down, you are now completely reforming into something that is completely personal and your own... like scented candle making 😭👍!!!!!!!!! okkkk I'm so freaking proud of you~ and if you've felt any heaviness just from you refilling your heart with so many opportunities- please don't let that cause you ANY doubts about your endeavors because OH👏- MYGOD👏 it's all going to go so well for you. no matter any circumstances or external worries. keep goingggggggg.

🔥🌱🌳

✉ Nothing can stop me from reaching my goals

✉ Regardless, my goals always become bigger and better

✉ I always reach my goals

✉ Regardless of anything external I am fully capable of achieving all of my goals

✉ Regardless of my mindset, I am fully capable of achieving ALL of my goals

✉ My goals become better and better

✉ I find fulfillment in my goals

✉ My goals always bring me so much joy

✉ My goals always bring me so much abundance

✉ I love building up my goals to infinity and beyond

✉ I am so good at doing what brings me joy and energy

✉ My goals orbit me

✉ My dream life is already waiting for me

✉ My dream life wants me

✉ Earning my dream life is as easy as breathing

✉ I am made of my dreams and desires

✉ My dreams and desires always become mine

✉ My dreams and desires are already mine

✉ Joy and abundance fuel my dreams and desires

✉ Joy and abundance fuel my goals

✉ Every single step I take brings me closer to my goals

✉ Achieving my goals is easier then ever before

✉ My goals have been deemed to be mine

✉Achieving my goals is so easy for me because they are already mine

✉ My goals love me

✉ My goals work for me

✉ My goals work towards me

✉ I am so happy for all I have accomplished

✉ My goals reward me daily

✉ I am rewarded daily because my goals are extensions of me

✉ I am so abundant

I have always been so abundant

Everything is an extension of me, and everything rewards me

✉ Everything is an extension of me, and everything flows me to where I desire to be

✉ My work is my creativity

✉ Creativity flows through me

✉ Creativity has always been my birthright

✉ I am made of creativity

✉ I am creativity

✉ I care for myself easily

✉ My goals allow me to relax

✉ My goals love when I care for myself

✉ The more I relax the more my goals flow to me

✉ I fully trust my goals

✉ I am fully deserving of my goals

✉ I fully deserve my goals

✉ I fully deserve and allow my goals to orbit towards me

✉ I align myself fully with my goals

✉ I am aligned to my goals

✉ I align myself fully with my desires

✉ I am aligned to my desires

✉ I align myself fully with my dream life

✉ I am fully aligned to my dream life

✉ My goals are mine.

✉ ✉ ✉

✉ pile 2

✉ ✉ ✉

✉ Eight of Wands (reversed), Seven of Pentacles (reversed), The Lovers

✉ Air placements, Gemini/Libra/Aquarius, earth placements, Taurus/Virgo/Capricorn, numbers 8, 7, 6, 1111, stops and starts, "air headed"/emotional/flightly described personality, healing unresolved wounds/fears, -song Love Is An Open Door - Frozen (2013)

✉ Oh my pile 2s :'), I'm pretty quick to ask how are you? seeing the certain reversals I got- one of them (Eight of Swords reversed) is definitely way more positive and a really good step in the right direction for you, it feels like a breath of fresh air!!- but it has a heaviness to it, it's a step in recovery from some baggage... and then the next one to come out felt like a real wammy- (Seven of Pentacles in reverse)... I got interrupted after a moment of being engrossed in your energy pile 2s, I feel you had a period where you felt this sense of freedom after a long while of realizing a lot of mental limitations you had that did not serve you- and so you jumped into trying and doing the opposite of those imitations!... but something might have happened that caused all that newfound sense of freedom to deflate in you- and you feel like you've gone right back to square one of how you used to feel- is that right? I find myself asking questions instead of being sure in what I am telling you, maybe that's the state that you're in currently of having all these why this? and why is that? with no feeling of hope in finding any answers, that right? <-- SEE?? there I go putting the questions back onto you instead of giving you answers:')- I'm so sorry. I'm hearing it might not have even been a big thing to have offset you as much as it did, just some sort of small trigger- it might have even just been your own pent up discouragement rearing its head at not seeing enough movement o headway in a certain aspect of your life, even with all the personal changes you were trying to create... I'm using the word trying a lot- omg this is so saddening😭... Ok, I'm going to pull myself out of this dark and dreary pity party (I don't say it in any mean way love ❤️) and take you up with me- because this place sucks and because I have got to offer you some help and some love- it's what you freaking deserve!!

-You have to address your feelings. you have to feel these emotions that are connected to all the limiting thoughts you have. you might be the type to be very flighty when it comes to your emotions- and there is a bright side to that trait that is beautiful and free and I don't think you should get ride of that!! but you're relying and using the shadow aspect of that trait by continuing to fly away to the externals first as to fix the limiting beliefs when really, the way to fix the external- is through the internal. do it for yourself, do it out of love for yourself. give yourself the space, time, patience and love that you deserve. heal your discouragement by allowing it to just be a feeling, and allow it to past like all feelings do. once you start healing and spending time and love on yourself- literally EVERYTHING in your life is going to blossom- love and freedom will be blossoming!!!! and you will be soaring stronger then ever before. oh my gosh-goodness I've gone on, but again- you deserve patience, love, and a space for healing- and I hope I was able to be that my pile 2s~ 🕊

(*reading your energy I know you may be cynical to these affirmations- again please address your limiting thoughts babe because they ain't getting you no where no how, and allow yourself just a little bit of trust. you don't have to even believe the affirmations, just read them/speak them. allow them <3.~*)

🕊🌅☁️

✉ I allow myself to heal

✉ I am patient with myself

✉ I allow my internal healing to play out

✉ I have full trust in my healing journey

✉ The more I allow myself to heal the more free I become

✉ The more I allow myself to heal the more I receive what I desire

✉ The more I allow myself to heal the more I accomplish

✉ The more I allow myself to heal the better and better life gets for me

✉ I align myself to love

✉ I align myself to joy

✉ I align myself to abundance

✉ I align myself to peace

✉ I align myself to my self love

✉ I align myself to my inner joy

✉ I align myself to my inner abundance

✉ I align myself to my self peace

✉ I am in alignment with myself

✉ I am capable of receiving all that I dream of and desire

✉ I am capable of giving and receiving love

✉ I am capable of self love and self care

✉ I am always capable because I am enough

✉ I am deserving of healing

✉ I am deserving of what I will accomplish

✉ I am deserving of love, healing, freedom, and to know myself better

✉ I deserve to be healed

✉ I deserve to be limitless

✉ I deserve to love myself

✉ I deserve love

✉ When I change, my reality follows

✉ I make the choice to heal myself

✉ I make the choice to love myself unconditionally

✉ I make the choice to allow self growth

✉ Regardless of anything external, I allow myself full self love

✉ Regardless of anything external, I allow myself to fully heal

✉ I release what no longer serves me

✉ I release what does not serve me and reclaim my energy

✉ I call all of my energy back to me

✉ My path ahead is full of healing, love, beauty, abundance, joy and freedom

✉ I trust my path

✉ I will be successful

✉ I trust that my path is full of abundant success that expands

✉ I am already successful

✉ Success is already mine

✉ I trust that success will flow into my life

✉ My success will build and expand

✉ I know that my success will be full of all my desires

✉ I am deserving of my success

✉ I desire to be successful

✉ I allow my success to flow into my life

✉ I trust my success

✉ I trust that success always finds me and I always find success

✉ Everything I desire will find me

✉ Everything I desire will flow into my life

✉ ✉ ✉

(*idk why but extra quotes for you~ ur favored fr~*)

✉ pile 3

✉ ✉ ✉

✉ Three of Swords (reversed), Ace of Wands (reversed), Nine of Swords (reversed)

✉ Air placements, Libra/Aquarius/Gemini, water placements, Cancer/Pisces/Scorpio, numbers 2, 222, 2222, 1212, 2424, 444, old connections, not needed, present-day path, planting seeds, blunt/honest/levelheaded/practical/mature/grown described personality, "he said- she said-", divided energies, feminine intensity, masculine intensity, commonly used emojis 💗, 🔥, 💀, -song Bloodline - Ariana Grande, Stray Kids (?), Enough - Jess Glynne

✉ For the first time in maybe over 3 years, my brain began to play Bloodline by Ariana Grande as soon as I tapped into your energy- I'm getting you may definitely have prominent air or water placements, more so Cancer, and Libra- other air and water placements too and oh gosh I'm realizing that those are Ariana's signs in her big 3- I do not think I'm connecting wrongly though,- I'm seeing that there are some of you that are either listeners/relate to Ariana, and the other camp is completely indifferent/are not in that fan base at all in which case I'm probably turning you off of this reading 😭😭- yea I'm totally seeing 2 separate camps in this pile rn, this divide of either very fem/fem baddies (that whole Thank U, Next album was very much in that whole aesthetic)- or very masc aesthetic/personality (not gender specific btw- this is fully afab/amab safe)... I randomly typed a fire emoji and heard the word "lit" immediately- so for my masc group you guys are described like that and or aim for that aesthetic- but my fems here are seen as that too 🔥 I'm hearing, like that description isn't gender-expression exclusive 💗🔥. again now there's more music coming through- for my mascs it's K-pop, K-indie, K-rock, K-Metel.. This is so weird to hear because i know nothing about that scene (someone here likes jazz tf- okkkk😭)... two very different and... stubborn- towards each other?- energies rn.

Ok, I'm going to actually get into what's going on as best I can for the collective- I'll be honest, this energy is all over the place, and I'm having a hard time reading or relating specifically to just one group of people rn like- 💀💀💀... I'm hearing the phrase "he said- she said-" so honestly I could be describing two people who are in/were in a relationship of some kind, a feminine and a masculine- (again, afab/amab safe!! and take what resonates) so you could be the feminine reading this and this is about a masculine who's heavy on your heart, or you could be the masculine in this and this is concerning your feminine whom you're really messed up over. and for both of these situations, it's really mutual that you two cut each other deep in the heart space 💀- like fr there is history that has occurred between you two and something happened that really made the mark that you guys left on each other's hearts- open up and start bleeding... and I'm literally just standing here watching the intensity of you two gazing at each other-... I'm seeing this scene of the feminine wanting to close her door but just continuing to stare at the masculine who could have stormed off but instead is still standing on the welcome mat, staring back into the eyes of the feminine- AND I'M STANDING IN THE HALLWAY OF THIS APARTMENT COMPLEX LIKE... I'm just trying to pass through to go feed my cats 💀...

I fr don't know what to say,- and that is so not like me at all. I'm just so heavily in this energy and there are literally two energies coming in and are weirdly connected to each other- AND they are both stubborn as hell. YOU TWO ARE BOTH stubborn as hell 😭. in fact, you two are so similar that when you have a problem with each other- no one can get a foot in the door to help. because you two are literally so on the same level mentally, that you can literally continue your intense stare-down with your friends trying to get in the middle to put the situation on ice- but you both continue to set each other's souls ablaze... you two need a retreat away from each other BAHAH 💀. God, again I do not know what to say because not only are you stubborn and intimidating asf, you are also very mature (referring to a singular person again whew), and you have the (emotional) receipts to back up how intense you can be- (I cannot figure out where to put this but it keeps weighing heavy that some of you are even parents/have young kids you have to be thinking about constantly)- you know bullshit like the back of your hand and I know you'll def be eying my words rn like a hawk... wasn't I suppose to give you affirmations 😭????? *nervous laughter fr* jokes aside- I'm going to stand my ground to you,- I can feel it and see it in the eyes I'm being shown- you've been through a lot. you have a past that is heavy and it's weighed on you since you were just a little girl/little boy/little child. you had to mature fast in the way you did out of your own survival. and that has done what it has done- but what about now? yes, you can do and act however you want to. you've earned your living! as you believed you needed to, had to, and would do- but for someone so confrontational about other's behavior- why can you not do the same for your own? you're usually right with the conclusions you come to about situations and other people with all the shit you've seen- so why not face yourself with that same focus? just as you question other people's behavior, already knowing the truth about them- you can do that very thing to yourself.

question yourself- why does this person trigger you the way that they do? when this person triggers you, what are you reminded of? are you reminded of another person or situation? are you reminded of your family growing up? are you reminded of your father? or mother? or relatives?- does this person who triggers you- remind you of yourself?... do the heavy walls you built when they were required to survive, serve you now? because I think it's what's inside the walls that needs stabilizing.

WOOO I just gave tougher love then I have ever done before- but I freaking had to get through to you love!! I really hope I did, whatever vulnerable emotion you are feeling right now if you've read this far of what I've channeled for you- please know that you have people you can go to with these emotions. this isn't like when you were growing up, you are safe. you are safe to be fully you, every piece of you that you had to lock away or armor up is safe now- thanks to the life you are building for yourself. I'm hearing a saying about how when you cut a tomato, you get a bunch of seeds- and you can plant those seeds, and with your work and patience, you get more tomatoes!! and that's what you've done- taken the small seeds and grew things up for yourself. so please enjoy all your hard work, PLEASE- show all those parts of you love. plant those seeds that you had to lock away and allow them to blossom and finally see the sunlight you created. again, I really am seeing that you do have safe options to turn to for support, definitely personal support- friends I'm mostly seeing- people outside of your old family/upbringing...

if you're in an intense relationship of some kind (said person could even be someone you've known since childhood/earlier years) like what I was channeling earlier, then I'm seeing that could be a perfect opportunity to turn to people for support- and oh my gosh honey you're going to be so loved. you already are, people love you and want you to open up more to them- I'm just seeing you opening up more as being both healing and strengthening for you, but also for your relationships 💗. this is so sweet, you have some sweet people around you that you fully deserve (for those with kids I see you taking so much more healthy joy in being a parent and you connecting with your little ones so beautifully- I'm seeing dancing in the kitchen especially 😭💗). but just to be inclusive to everyone here, you of course don't have to open up to others- I see seeking some professional guidance of some kind would also be incredibly beneficial (also spiritual guidance if you have an interest in that), and also you of course always have yourself. so go inward and see how you can show up for yourself better!!!

alright whew I know that reading might not have been for everyone but it was strong so I know that this reading is for someone💗🔥 so it was a pleasure. anddd my apologizes for the full read yikezies 💀-

💗🔥💀

✉ I am safe

✉ I create a safe space for myself

✉ I have created a safe space for myself

✉ I am in a safe place

✉ I am safe to express and feel my emotions

✉ My emotions are mine and I am free and safe to express them

✉ My environment is safe and fully mine

✉ I choose to feel safe

✉ I allow myself to be vulnerable

✉ I allow myself to feel what as hurt me

✉ I allow myself to be bitter

✉ I allow myself to cry

✉ I allow myself to be angry

✉ I allow myself to grieve

✉ I allow parts of me that do not serve my highest good to pass

✉ I allow what does not serve me any longer to leave my body and exit out of my life

✉ I allow the most vulnerable parts of me to be healed

✉ I allow the most vulnerable parts of me to exist

✉ I respect my vulnerability to be as it is

✉ I love my vulnerability

✉ I allow myself to be patient towards my life

✉ I am patient with myself

✉ I allow myself to release control in my life and surrender to my healing journey

✉ I have released control and am now in a state of healing

✉ I allow myself to prioritize my needs fully

✉ I am my first priority

✉ I allow myself to feel taken care of

✉ I am taken care of

✉ I allow myself self love and self growth

✉ I am focused on giving myself the love I deserve

✉ I allow myself to be emotionally open

✉ I am emotionally open towards myself

✉ I show up for myself

✉ I allow myself to connect to my heart and give love to those I trust

✉ I am open to people I trust

✉ I am shown who I can trust and I allow my heart to open

✉ I am protected and surrounded by people who I trust

✉ I am protected and surrounded by love and those who I can love safely

✉ I am protected and surrounded by abundance and success regardless of any externals

✉ I deserve to be trusted and I am worthy to share my trust

✉ I deserve to be loved and I am worthy to share my love

✉ I deserve abundance and I am worthy to share my abundance

✉ I deserve success and I am worthy to share my success

✉ Trust is my birthright

✉ Love is my birthright

✉ Abundance is my birthright

✉ Success is my birthright

✉ Stability and loyalty is my birthright

✉ Regardless of others actions- I am deserving of trust, love, abundance, success, stability, and loyalty

✉ I accept the truth that it is my birthright, and that I am inherently deserving of trust, love, abundance, success, stability, and loyalty

✉ I allow myself to live my life knowing those truths

✉ I allow myself to breathe through my whole body and begin to shed all that no longer serves me

✉ I trust myself and I trust my journey

✉ I allow myself to be healed

✉ I am capable of being healed

✉ I am healing

✉ I am healed

✉ I allow myself to view my life as my own

✉ My life is my own, and I live by my love, joy, and peace

✉ I allow myself to see life as enjoyable

✉ I am capable of viewing life as enjoyable and all that can bring me joy

✉ I enjoy viewing my life as fun and full of joy and peace

✉ I allow myself to have fun with myself and those I love

✉ I am capable of having fun with myself and those I love

✉ I love having fun in my life and sharing that with those I love

✉ I fall in love with myself, and find someone to share it with

✉ ✉ ✉

✉

✉

✉

✉ oh praise be we're done~ byeeeee till next time

✉ ✉ ✉ love, vi~♡

[sunflowerandstrawberryspice]

CARMEN SANDIEGO? In 2024? It's more likely thank you think! Please excuse the shit quality for some reason I wasn't allowed to upload the normal pdf and I had to upload a fucking screenshot???

So my friend convinced me to watch Carmen Sandiego and since he's watching ALL of Ninjago for me I thought it was the least I could do to watch four season of a show with a pretty decent concept but uh... yeesh, don't get me wrong the show is really fun but lord have mercy does it have problems especially the last two seasons which were just so wildly disappointing to me. It went from a show with an interesting look on morals to pure pro-cop and mostly black and white thinking so quick (that not mentioning the breaking up a found family full of people with abandonment issues) it was honestly just so disappointing so me and the friend who introduced it to me decided to rewrite it! (I will not be animating nor do I plan on doing more than MAYBE a comic or art piece here and there because my chronic pain ridden ass can not handle that much lol)

The main goals are to:

1) Flesh out characters that aren't Carmen and actually give them reactions based on their lived experiences and how they might realistically react instead of what the show needed to move the plot along

2) Having characters other than Carmen be actually relevant to the plot the main one being Chase Devineaux who we're gonna kind of have as a parallel to Carmen (trust me yall) as kind of a "What if Carmen didn't have her friends/family to ground her and fall back on" but for all the Chase fans out there (gods I hope there's some other than me) he will be getting a happy ending but bro is getting put through the RINGER first

3) Have both A.C.M.E (now standing for Administration for Containing and Monitoring Evil) and V.I.L.E be the bad guys. Also just as an extra bit of fun we're making VILE a full blown cult, they were very cult like in the show so we're just gonna make it one. Both are going to be very morally questionable and while it'll take a bit longer for ACME to show it's true colors don't you worry they definitely will ;)

4) We're doing canonical lgbtq+ rep, I know the show teased a lot of relationships and really only gave yall background gays not to say thats bad but we can do better than just a brief shot of a damn taco truck. I mean like come on in a story about a young woman going against the government for the greater good why not put some rep into it ya know!

5) We're making it light sci-fi, not like SUPER high tech but definitely beyond what we've got currently, as shown with Carmen's prosthetic, and don't worry I'm doing my research as a disabled person I know how it feels to be misrepresented or ignored so I want to make sure I'm being realistic

6) PLAYER ISN'T GOING TO BE A CHILD! I don't know if this bothered anybody else but to me it was really weird that this 16 year old's only friends were in their 20s!

Alright I think that's what I'm gonna say for now, I'd love it if yall tuned in for updates if your curious since this is a passion project for me and my friend and we're having a blast writing it!

As always I am still working on stuff for Ninjago cause I could never abandon my one true love, currently there's a Pixal drawing in progress (it's giving me hell T-T) something for Cole and Geo, and something of Sora MAYBE even Euphrasia if I'm feeling up to it.

Having said that I hope yall have a great day/night and PEACE OUT!

[persphonesorchid]

Connotations Of Sin - JHS (m)

Summary: At your lowest, you’ve been living on the streets for the past couple of months. When you decide to leave your only safe haven and find yourself lost in a mysterious fog, an angel stretches out a hand of mercy. Little do you know, black taints his once alabaster wings.

Genre: Fallen Angel Au | Angst, fluff, smut (mdni), horror (V lowkey, I swear)

Word Count: 30k

Masterlist

Please read these warnings carefully!!

Warnings: Homelessness, Kidnapping (? is it though??), Suicidal ideation, referenced and described abuse and murder of a child. Hoseok is his own warning. Mc gets drugged and then she gets sick... A bit of religious babble, mc has nightmares (one of which is actually kinda bad...), she almost dies at one point. Hoseok likes playing mind games, but they aren't serious (Honestly debatable...). Implied gang activity and violence. Hoseok contradicts himself a lot, he's really confusing. Smut: oral ( m and f receiving) soft dom Hoseok, i think Hoseok has an oral fixation (or is it ME, the author?????) unprotected sex.

Notes: Phew, welcome!! SO, it's finally here!!! I'm so excited to share this project with you alll! It was such a big project for me, and so much time and effort went into it. Believe it or not, this started out as a smut piece and it had nothing going for it at all. If you've been following me for a while, you'd remember that back in 2021 i posted a teaser for something similar. Tbh back then probably wasn't the right time to post such a thing lmao, i for certain wasn't ready to write it and it wouldn't have been written in the way it was meant to with my writing style back then. It's been a long journey of understanding the characters portrayed here, and a lot of work to get them right. Very big shoutout to @hwaslayer who's - as always - been there with me from the very beginning and has been the biggest help and motivator, please look out for her Ateez's Seonghwa fic that shares this universe!! I won't keep you any longer, but please be sure to leave feedback, a lot of effort went into this project and i'd love to hear what you think and answer any questions! Happy reading!!!

“You sure you don’t wanna stay here with me dearie? I know it ain’t much, but it’s better than being out in the elements.” Abigail takes your hands in hers, hands that – much like yours – are dirt stained and ruddy, but bring you comfort that you wouldn’t find elsewhere. Abigail – or Toothy as everyone else calls her – is a frail woman with wispy auburn hair and a gap tooth smile. Her hair had gone white in some places, the crows’ feet at her eyes can barely help you guess her age. Her eyes are blue and dull but still regard you warmly like she did when she’d found you wandering along the fourth avenue weeks or so ago.

The space where she stays isn’t much; a nook in an alleyway between two rundown buildings that people don’t bother to go into. She’d tried her best to make it into a space that’s comfortable enough, the roof made of termite bitten sheets of ply that’s at least a square and a half wide. An old, mildew ridden tarp thrown over it and held down by a couple pieces of rubble from the building across makes up the walls that offer shelter from cold wind and rain and as much privacy you could get out here. The floor made of giant trash bags Abigail had swindled from some place or another, covered with old sheets that’s definitely seen better days. Even though the sheets had long lost their softness and leave you itching, they kept your butt off the cold concrete.

You’re going to miss the stories she’d tell. You’d lay on the floor, the longest part of the tarp folded over the top, and stare up at the strip of night sky between the buildings, twinkling with the bit of stars you can see and listen.

She’d tell you of her life before she fell to rock bottom, how grand everything was. How, many years ago, she’d won the lottery by a stroke of luck, only to have it turn sour when her fiancé gambled it all away and she lost everything. She never did tell you what happened to him.

You’d miss walking the couple of miles to the river, armed with pieces of run-down bar soaps and plastic bags with the little clothes you owned in them bundled in your arms. Or the nights when it’s cold, you’d go down to the square with her and look around for things to burn and dump them into the steel barrel to keep warm.

There are days when there’s nothing, and Abigail would distract you from your stomach trying to eat at itself with another one of her stories and old cans filled with steaming boiled rain water. There are days when you’d sit with a full tummy, there’s usually one kind soul out there that takes pity on you both to offer as much as they could.

You’ll be forever grateful for Abigail, with her motherly affection and her warm hands. She never once asked how you ended up here too, she simply offered a hand when you needed it most.

You felt as though you lingered too long... this is the longest you’ve stayed in a place. The company was good, but you feel like there’s just so much you’re robbing Abigail of by staying with her. You know she would strongly disagree; she’d probably whack you with her busted up sneaker and send you to sit in a corner until you’ve apologized. It’s simply how you feel, if you’re not here, Abigail wouldn’t have to share the little of what she gets, you feel terrible enough that she gives you more than she keeps for herself.

“Don’t worry Abigail.” You smile, pulling one hand away to pat hers. Her fingers are bony and long, and lacking the warmth they did earlier in the day. “I don’t stay one place for too long.”

It’s a lie, obviously. You’d rather chew your leg off than go out there alone. Away from the safety this little nook had been for the past month, away from Abigail, who’s cared more about you than anyone has in a while. But you care about her too, enough that you’d leave to make sure that she eats well enough to survive and not give it all to you. She’d be better off.

Abigail narrows her eyes at you, the wrinkles of her face deepening as she frowns. She looks sad, you note, the blue of her eyes dark and stormy, but she says nothing, just squeezes your hands for a while before letting go.

You smile softly, and continue stuffing your clothes into an old backpack Abigail had given you a while back. You fold the dirty ones tight, setting them at the bottom, and the few clean ones you had that still smelled like your last bar soap at the top. You don’t have much, and you’ve gotten used to it – as hard as it was.

When you shouldered your bag and stepped out from under the tarp, Abigail follows, worry on her brow, saying that she’d walk you to the mouth of the alleyway.

“Oh!” She says, turning back to duck under the tarp. You hear the rummaging of her old pot wares, the clanking of the metal before she comes back and holds out a can to you. The label looks worn, peeling off in some places, but you make out the bright red ‘canned peach’ on the side. “I was savin’ this for when we go down to the river, but you’d better have it.”

“Abigail...” You sigh, guilt gnawing at your edges, “I can’t take this.”

Abigail purses her lips, smacking the can into your hand, “Yes, you can. It’ll hold you out for a little while.”

“Then what would you eat?” You outstretch your hand, offering the peaches back to her and she narrows her eyes at you.

“I can manage.” She says testily, and then sighs, softening, “Are you sure you’ll be okay out there?” She takes the can and tucks it into the outside pocket of your bag, “It’ll be rough ya know.”

“I’ll be fine,” You say, and then, you hug her. Truly, you’ll miss her. She pats your back gently, “Thank you for everything.”

“Don’t mention it, we gotta look out for each other out here.” Abigail smiles, pulling away. She stuffs her hands into the pockets of her baggy jeans, something she’d picked up at a donation shelter a couple of days ago. It’s got a few holes and it’s frayed at the ankles but she’d never complain. “If you fall into luck, don’t forget me.”

“Never.”

You both say your goodbyes and you try your best to not cry at the sadness that clings to Abigail’s form as she hobbles back to her little nook. You take a breath and pick a direction to walk in.

You think about going to the river first, to get a little cleaned up before you go looking for somewhere to sleep for the night. You’re already regretting leaving the comfort that Abigail provided. You know she wouldn’t blame you if you turned right around and dragged yourself back. You’ve already made your mind up, though – it’s better this way.

You don’t have a gauge on the time, but the sun’s getting quite low. It streaks the sky in orange and pink, hiding behind a fluffy white cloud as it makes its slow decent. You might be able to make it to the river and back before night falls completely if you hurry. So you walk, and walk, and it’s a long way past the street Abigail first found you, where the city meets a forest edge.

You once asked Abigail why she didn’t live closer to the river, you worry about her most days, taking her frail self through the streets for such a long walk just to get here. She’d told you that even though some of your street dwelling comrades are friendly, most aren’t, and would do the worst to get what they need. It’s too risky to be close to the river where all manner of folk pass to get to it.

You tuck your bag to your front and keep an ear out for anyone that may be in the area. You grimace as the twigs and stones of the forest floor poke at your feet. Your shoes were on their last, they kept your feet warm most days, but they’re biting holes into your last good pair of socks. The trees get sparse the further in you go, and over the tweeting and chittering of the forest critters, there’s the sound of rushing water.

You break out of the trees and stand on the little edge where the forest pauses and the soft wet dirt begins. The river is a bit wild today, rushing through the rocks as it makes its way from wherever it starts. You know there must be a spring somewhere deeper if you follow the river back, but you don’t have the time to as the setting sun makes the forest look darker already. You wouldn’t like to be out here at night.

You slip out of your shoes and socks, wanting to keep them dry and walk down to the bank. Abigail has a little spot between three large boulders where she hides things. The spot is covered with leaves and sticks, and you dig through it to find the old blue bucket. It’s missing it’s handle and turned over to keep things under it.

There’s a new pack of soap powder that’s already been opened, a little square plastic bowl that’s probably seen better days on a dish rack and half of a soap bar. You pull the bucket out of its hiding place, taking just a handful of the soap powder and tossing it into the bucket. You tuck the powder into a corner of the rock with the soap bar on top of it and carry the bucket over to the river.

You rummage through your bag to find the clothes that needed cleaning, and put them in the bucket with the soap. It takes a moment of scooping water from the river and pouring it into the bucket. All the while you’re wondering where Abigail scored the soap powder from. A lot of things are hard to come by, but some people make trades with the little they’ve got. You feel a little guilty as you watch the water and soap soak into your clothes, though you know she wouldn’t mind if its you – you’re the only two that know where she keeps her stuff hidden – but still.

The soap smells sweet, and fresh in a way you haven’t smelt in a while. With the sun long gone behind the trees but still lighting the sky a bit, you wash your clothes as quickly as you can. You throw the soapy water on the bank and not back in the river, and rinse your clothes out just as quick.

There’s no time to wait for them to dry, with the sun being as low as it is and the wind baring its teeth. So you wring them out and pull out the plastic handle bag you keep folded in one of your backpack pockets to stuff them into.

It’s completely dark out once you’ve put the bucket back and covered Abigail’s things again and made your way back out of the forest. You would’ve liked to take a quick wash, but it’s too dark and the water’s too cold now. You’ll come back tomorrow when the sun’s high and hot.

You walk in a different direction than the way you came, looking for the little park that Abigail mentioned once. Its completely dark by the time you get there, your feet aching from the long walk and your mind muddled with thoughts.

You would often remind yourself not to think too hard, as your thoughts would often lead you to a dark place you find difficult to crawl out of. You would often regret not having people close enough to call good friends, maybe then you wouldn’t be out here.

You didn’t have a difficult life; you grew up in a loving home with both parents making sure that you were happy and not too spoilt by the fruits of their labour. You know the value of things and you know well to act like your parents raised you with some sense. Your mother passed when you were ten, and your father remarried when you were sixteen. You couldn’t understand why, your father loved your mother so much and you thought it would just be you and him against the world. You understood that your mother wouldn’t want him to live the rest of his life overshadowed by her passing and forget to continue living. So when he introduced you to the woman he met on a business trip, looking happier than he had in six years, you didn’t have the heart to tell him that something was off.

Your mother had always taught you to see the good in people, to give them the benefit of a doubt. There was no mistaking the thinly veiled disgust in your step mother’s eyes when she would look at you. She was quite young, compared to your father, anyway, and as the years went by, he spoilt her. He gave her whatever she wanted when she wanted it as long as it made her happy and you could only watch from the sidelines.

Your father fell ill, and everything went downhill from there.

When he passed, your world shattered and crumbled, leaving you standing in the rubble grasping at the wisps of it slipping through your fingers. Things were okay, for a while, grieving the loss of your father and trying to move on and step without him. Then the news of his will came not long after he was buried.

Your father left everything for his wife, the house, his money, and as you’d found on the first night you were out here, the savings account your mother had set up for you.

You had nothing.

You’d always kept to yourself growing up, and never let anyone closer than you would allow. You were home-schooled – all the way up to your tertiary education – and had no friends to speak of. Your parents never spoke of their family, all you knew and had were your mother and father.

It’s been a while since then. A good long while. It was hard to adjust to having everything at the tip of your fingers to having it ripped away all at once.

The first week was hard. You’d worked odd jobs here and there to keep your head above the water. Sleeping in a motel every night wasn’t ideal, especially since you had to buy food and every thing else. The little money you had ran out quickly, even when you pawned the possessions you did own it wasn’t enough.

You’ve had time to adjust since then. You met Abigail and things were as okay as they could’ve been considering. You remember, she had been pestering you about why you were pacing around on that bridge when she found you.

The deep rushing water below it had looked inviting – an easy way out. No one would’ve missed you, anyway.

You take a breath in sharply, and it burns. Cold air fills your lungs with little pinpricks as night fully settles. You try not to think about anything more as you walk through the park.

It looks empty, large trees and neat grass fields and cobbled walkways. There are dark metal benches scattered about, a trickle of water you can’t pinpoint coming from somewhere.

You’d just stay here for tonight, and find somewhere you wouldn’t be in trouble to stay at in the morning. You’re pretty sure you’re breaking some law being who you are as you sit down on the bench. It’s uncomfortable, the metal cold and biting, but you’d just have to deal for the night.

You dig through your backpack, pulling out the plastic bag with your damp clothes, a jacket that’s still in good condition and the canned peach Abigail sent you off with.

You spread your clothes out on the back of the bench, and you’re hoping they dry properly even if the air feels a little damp.

With a soft sigh, you lift the circular pin on the lid of the can and pull. The peaches are cut into slices and swimming in a sweet juice, and with some guilt you pick a piece out. It’s sweeter than anything you’ve had in a while, and for a moment you feel like crying.

You feel tears burn your eyes and nose as you chew the fruit, washing it down with a sip of the juice that tastes slightly like the can. It wasn’t long before it was all gone, your fingers sticky with the juice and you stare into the empty can with a frown. You wonder about Abigail and if she’s okay right now.

Setting the can down near the foot of the bench that’s bolted into the cobblestone path, you lay back. The sky is fairly clear, with a little smattering of wispy clouds floating by and stars that twinkle in the distance.

Drifting off slowly, you try to find a comfortable position to sleep in – though there isn’t one with this metal bench. Your jacket thrown over you as a makeshift blanket.

You’re not certain how long you sleep for, but when you wake, its to a tapping on your shoulder. The air is thick with something as you breathe in, and a lot damper than it was when you’d settled.

“Ma’am.” A voice calls, prodding your shoulder again, “Hello, miss?”

You open your eyes and your blood runs cold at the sight of the man in uniform standing above you. You sit up, excuses dancing at the tip of your tongue before you realised you could barely see past your nose.

The officer is holding a flashlight, the beam directed somewhere off to your right. A thick fog had settled while you slept, swirling way past the officer’s head.

“I’m sorry, but you can’t sleep here. This is a private park.” His words aren’t unkind, they come out gentle and a little pitying, as though he regrets having to do his job of keeping the riffraff out. He lets you gather your things, stuffing your still damp clothes back into your bag.

He takes a step back when you stand, “If you need somewhere to stay, there’s a shelter not far from here. Couple blocks that way.” He waves his flashlight behind you, towards the park’s exit, “Can’t miss it.”

You could barely see the guy, much less which way exactly he’s directing you to. You turn, squinting at the way you think he pointed. “Thank you... I’m really sorry about –”

“Don’t worry about it...just keep walking straight and you’ll find it.”

He motions with his flashlight again and you take two steps away before stopping and turning back, “Sorry but...the fog...which way...”

The man is gone, no sign of him having been there in the first place. It’s quiet, not even insects are chirping, you don’t hear any retreating footsteps. You stare at the spot he was just in, but didn’t want to linger lest he comes back and he’s decidedly less kind.

You hike your bag up on your shoulder, squinting to see through the fog as you walk towards the exit. The roads are empty, there’s the soft clicking of the traffic lights and the glow of shop lights and street lamps that make it a little bit easier to see. You still look both ways before walking quickly across the street, keeping straight like the officer told you.

It’s quiet, and honestly, it freaks you out a bit. You don’t think it’s that late, and even so, there should be people out and about. You don’t even think you slept for that long, it couldn’t have been more than an hour. There’s no reason for no one to be around, then again, you don’t know this area very well.

You walk for some time, the sound of your footsteps and your steady breaths your only company. You’re keeping your eyes peeled for any sign of the shelter, staring up at the glowing signs and squinting to see through the fog. You passed a convenience store, a pharmacy and a pet shop, all closed and dark inside. You’ve crossed two roads so far; it shouldn’t be much more walking...unless a couple of blocks have two different meanings between you and the officer.

You stop for a moment, taking a breath that settles heavy and damp in your chest. You look back the way you came, look at the signs of the buildings across the street and the one you’re outside of. You can’t see much more than that unless you keep walking straight.

You’re beginning to wonder if he’d only said so to get you out of the park. You take a couple of steps forward and then stop, looking over your shoulder. Your brows furrow and the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end.

It’s said that the mind always knows when you’re being watched, a sixth sense to be aware when someone is staring at you.

You feel watched.

And it isn’t an ordinary feeling.

It feels off, like some primal switch just flicked up in your brain. Briefly, you think that this is how a bunny feels being cornered by a fox. Your heart suddenly kicks against your ribs and something in the back of your mind screams for you to move.

You press forward, the feeling lingers, and intensifies. You walk as quickly as you can, your once steady breaths loud and harsh in the quietness of the night. You try not to look behind you as your ears pick up on the sound of another pair of footsteps. They match yours, and you’re not too certain if it’s just really your own bouncing off the walls of the buildings. When you stop, they stop, and start back up again when you start.

There’s another sound below it. Something snarls like a dog somewhere in the distance behind you, but, like everything else about this moment in this fog, it sounds wrong. Like it’s coming from a creature that’s trying to mimic the sound of an animal.

You stop dead in your tracks, goosebumps rippling along your skin like a wave from the top of your head and downwards. You take a breath, and with one foot in front of the other – you sprint.

Your footfalls are loud in the quiet, and even through your panic you notice the change of the footsteps that mimicked yours. There’s two more with it that falls in rhythm, like a large beast running on all fours.

It’s running faster than you are, the pounding of its feet against the pavement is double the speed of your own. You feel like your lungs are about to burst, your legs burning, and the damp air becomes fire in your throat when you breathe.

Whatever it is snarls again, and it sounds way closer than it was before. You could almost feel the sound rumble through you, and something hot fans at the back of your neck. You nearly trip, stumbling over your own feet in an attempt to run faster. You round a corner blindly, hoping to throw whatever it is off your trail and smack right into someone.

With your momentum, you’d think that you would send yourself and the person sprawling to the hard concrete. The terrified scream you let out rings in your own ears, high pitched and shrill, as you bounce back, falling in a heap. There’s a sharp twinge in your wrist as you brace, and a stinging in your palm when you just barely managed to catch yourself.

“Shit!” the person exclaims – a man, if the deep timbre of his voice was anything to go by. “Are you okay?!”

The man crouches down and you scramble back, then remember that you crashed into him because you were running from something and the panic comes back.

“I—there’s ... Something’s following me! It chased me all the way here...It’s—”

“Hey, hey...it’s okay...you’re fine.” The man seems to look behind you. You could barely see his face, even with him being as close as he was; the fog just seems to get thicker. “It’s just us out here...”

His voice suddenly seems hesitant, and you wouldn’t blame him if he thought you were crazy.

You breathing is still erratic, heart still trying to pound its way out of your chest.

The man’s hands hover at your shoulders, and there’s worry in his tone when he speaks again. “It’s okay. You’re alright, nothing’s out here but us.”

He takes your hand – the one that’s not holding your weight – and presses it to his chest. You almost jump out of your skin at the contact, but his own heart is steady, beating a slow rhythm against his sternum. “Breathe with me.”

He takes a deep breath in, and you feel his chest expand as his lungs fill, you try your best. Your throat is burning, and every breath feels like fine glass is swirling at the back of your mouth. It takes a moment, but eventually, your breaths match his and the adrenaline seeps out with your every exhale.

Your brain finally registers the throbbing of your wrist and palm, and the ache in your sides.

“There you go.” You can faintly make out the smile that spreads across the man’s face, heart shaped and pretty white teeth. “Good now?”

You nod, just barely, and he releases your hand. There’s a shuffling and the sound of a zipper and then he’s holding a bottle of water out to you. You eye it with some suspicion, and he picks up on it.

“It’s just water, promise.” He says, wiggling the bottle a little. “The seal isn’t cracked or anything.”

You take your weight off your palm, wincing at the hot flash of pain from the movement. You right yourself a little, taking the water from him with your uninjured hand and a soft thanks.

“Oh...here...” he keeps the bottle steady in your hand with a palm under the bottom of it, and the other cracking the seal with a twist. He lifts the bottle to your lips and you take a sip, and then a gulp, “Easy, not too fast.”

The water is cool, and a blessing, you didn’t realise how thirsty you were. When you’ve drank at least half of the bottle, the man puts the cap back on and leaves it in your hold.

“Were you looking for something?” he asks gently, and you nod.

“The homeless shelter...I think I’m lost now, though.”

The man tilts his head, “There aren’t any shelters in this area...you’re on the wrong side of the city if that’s what you were looking for.”

You stare at him for a moment, “...Oh.” The officer really did just say it, then. You’re not sure what to say to the man and you glance around at the street that’s still teeming with the thick fog.

You’re not sure what to say to him, and instead, look around the street for any sign of the shelter even though he’d said there isn’t one.

“I think the fog’s lifting...” The man mumbles. The fog is clearing; it’s easier to see further down the street and the man in front of you. He presses his palms against his knees and stands, looking around for a moment before looking down at you. “There aren’t any shelters around...but...I can help you. If you want, I live a bit that way, and I’ve got an extra room...”

This is a bad idea.

He’s quite tall, on the lean side with long limbs. He’s wearing a long black coat, and his black, suede shoes look just as expensive as the watch that peeks from the end of his sleeve at his wrist. The white tee shirt he wears looks a little billowy, like it would swallow his frame once he takes the coat off. He turns a little and you get to admire the sharp cut of his jaw and the elegant slope of his nose.

“I won’t hurt you or anything. I just want to help.” He says, turning back to you. His eyes are dark, but kind as he offers a hand to help you off the concrete. “I’m Hoseok.”

You take his hand, and there’s nothing in the back of your mind telling you to get away. Nothing in his body language that shows ill intent, and you have to remind yourself that some people are simply kind.

He helps you to your feet and you thank him softly, giving him your name. His smile is soft as he nods, lips turned up slightly at the corners, eyes squinted just a bit.

“If you don’t want to, that’s okay. It’s a bit late, though, and you’d have to walk a long way to find the shelter...” Hoseok says softly.

You’re still holding his hand, and the warmth of it grounds you. You honestly shouldn’t, really, you’re smart enough to know you shouldn’t follow random men promising kindness. He really looks like a good person, quietly waiting for your answer as he gives you chance to change your mind should you wish.

He doesn’t rush you, and briefly you wonder if he doesn’t have anything else to do. He was clearly going about his business before you tackled him, though that word should be used lightly considering you’re the one who ended up on the ground.

“Okay...thank you.” When you finally speak his smile broadens, showing pretty teeth and still holding your hand, he leads you in the direction he was coming from before. You feel a bit bad, turning his night on its head and probably inconveniencing him.

The fog is lighter now, the air not as thick with it as you follow along. Hoseok didn’t talk much, not once mentioning your pitiful state of dress, or asking any questions. You’re grateful, not many people would go out of their way to open their homes to someone without one.

The place he leads you to looks expensive and you feel out of place. The road winds and twists into a residential area with houses and three storey apartments. There are cars parked in driveways, neatly trimmed grass and hedges, a fence around every tree. Lampposts dot the sidewalk every thirty or so steps, casting their orange glows across every surface.

Across from there, the road veers off into a more commercial area, with fancier housing and shops and a tall, looming hotel. The streets are quiet, shops already closed for the night and you wonder what time it is. There doesn’t seem to be anyone around, save for you and Hoseok making your way towards the hotel.

The doors slide open with a little mechanical whir, and you balk at the sheer size of the lobby alone. Light fixtures hang from the ceiling, bouncing their glows off of shiny surfaces. There are red and black lounge seats along a far wall, coffee tables of black tempered glass between them and the single seated chairs across. On the other side of the lobby is a little open cafe area, closed of course, with comfortable looking chairs tucked under tables.

There are two elevators, one of which you assume to be for staff. The reception area is a counter space of smooth looking white marble, though no one sits behind it.

Hoseok leads you to the elevator, pressing the button to call it down. You’ve let go of his hand now, as you take in the sight of the place. You wonder what anyone would think seeing someone like you in here. With your shabby clothes that’s seen better days, your dirty sneakers and backpack that looks like it’s moments away from just splitting apart.

There’s no one to see you, as the elevator comes down and opens with a ding. You catch sight of your reflection in the elevator walls, and grimace, regretting not bracing the cold river earlier. You definitely look homeless, your last bath was exactly two days ago, you look grubby standing just a little bit behind Hoseok. Anyone who would see you now would definitely turn their nose up at you and outright ask what you’re doing in their pristine hotel. Though, there isn’t much you can do to prevent that.

When the doors slide close you focus on the button panel, and next to it is a key card scanner and a button under it. The word penthouse is neatly labelled on the button in little black letters, and Hoseok fishes around his coat to pull out a key card. You blink, of course he lives in the penthouse.

The scanner beeps softly and Hoseok presses the button that glows a soft blue before the elevator lurches slight and ascends.

You fiddle nervously with your fingers in front of you, keeping your eyes on your shoes. There’s a shuffle and Hoseok turns to look at you, he’s smiling kindly again, something like pity woven into it and you feel a coil of shame twist in your chest.

“I’m sorry...” You say without much reason, glancing at him and then back down, “For the trouble.”

“No trouble.” Hoseok says softly, concern on his brow, his hand reaching out but stopping short, as though he’s not sure if he could touch you. You’re surprised he even want to. Heck, you’re surprised he’s doing any of this at all. “Really.”

“Do you usually take in random homeless people?” You ask, and his chuckle is light and teasing.

“Only the cute ones.” He says and then looks a little mortified, “Sorry. I’m kidding. It’s just...you looked like you really needed help...so I’m helping.”

“You’re very kind.” You murmur and offer a smile.

He smiles back, not as brightly as his other ones, it curls his mouth less, doesn’t quite reach his eyes. He nods, “I try to be.”

The elevator slows to a stop, doors sliding open to a little well-lit hallway. On the other end of the hall is a wide pane of glass that overlooks the city lights, twinkling in a dance of their own making, and an emergency exit sign jutting out of the wall. You follow Hoseok out of the elevator towards the door which he unlocks with a password — the beeps loud in the quiet — the door opens with a soft thunk and a beep and he lets you walk in first.

The lights are on, as though he’d only planned to be out for a moment. You’re not too sure what to do with yourself now that you’re here, staring at Hoseok’s back unsurely as he takes his shoes off and tucks them neatly on a shoe rack.

He turns to face you, “I don’t mean anything by this, so please don’t misunderstand...”

You nod, waiting for him to continue.

He seems to weigh his words carefully, “Do you want to take a bath?”

You flush, yeah, you surely look grubby enough for him to ask that. It’s warranted, so, you’re not upset that he asked. You’d actually love to, when was the last time you took a bath that wasn’t in the freezing river?

Still though, it’s embarrassing. So you nod silently, “Thank you.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He says, looking genuinely relieved. “You can leave your stuff here and I’ll take care of everything.”

“Okay...” You step out of your shoes, nudging them in a corner before you take your bag off and set it down. The clothes you have are still damp, stuffed in a plastic bag somewhere in the depths of your tattered backpack and Hoseok doesn’t give you a moment before he’s leading you through his home.

The chill of the grey tiled floor runs up your legs through your thin, threadbare socks. You don’t have much time to look around, but you’re aware you’ve passed an open space kitchen and living room, splashes of white, reds and black in the corner of your vision.

He lets you into the bathroom, “Use whatever you need. The towels and things are in the cabinet.”

You turn to face him, “I really can’t thank you enough.” You say earnestly, and he waves you off, turning to leave and shutting the door behind him with a soft click.

“I’ll bring you some clothes that you could use.” He says through the door, his voice muffled. You thank him again and his footsteps trail away.

You turn and glance around the bathroom, floor to ceiling glass panes makes up the furthest wall. Before it is a porcelain bathtub that could easily fit three people, on a raised platform of white stained marble, and that platform on another, creating a single step up in order to get into the tub. The colour of the platforms compliments the dark reflective marble floor. The undersides of the platforms are lined with what you assume must be LED lights, glowing a pale white along the bottom.

The same LEDs line the back of the large wall mounted mirror, giving it an ominous glow. Below the mirror is a dark granite sink with a faucet you’re not even sure how to turn on. The cabinet below the sink house only cleaning supplies, and you look around for the towel space.

The shower takes up nearly the whole wall it’s connected to, frosted glass and jets embedded into the wall.  

You walk over to the shower and realise that was wall beside it sorts of curve and you let out a surprised sound when you walk the short way towards the back of it. The ‘cabinet’ is more of a little walk-in closet, there’s a few fluffy looking bathrobes sorted by length and colour, and towels and washcloths stacked on shelves that match.

Under those are neat little space savers filled with bath oils and shower gels, sweet scented candles tucked into corners. Bar soaps and toilet paper on their own shelves at the bottom, unopened toothbrushes and what have you.

There’s enough room to turn full circle without bumping into anything if you step into it. But you look at your hands and decide to not touch anything until they're clean.

So you walk back out to the sink, frowning at the faucet with no visible way to turn it on; it’s just a sleek piece of metal that curves back into the basin. You look at it to and fro and wave your hand under it, startling slightly when water sprays from the faucet. You hold your hand away and it turns off after a moment. Now, your parents had money but it wasn’t anything like this.

You can’t imagine the cost of this place.

You find hand soap after peeking into the cabinet below the sink again, taking your time to thoroughly wash your hands clean. It’s hard to see the dirt go down the drain against the dark granite, but you’re grateful. You inspect your hands once your done, and finally allow yourself to touch Hoseok’s things. You take a towel down from the shelf, the one that’s at the top of the pile. It’s a nice pale yellow, and near the bottom right corner is a little blue butterfly embroidered into the fabric. After a little debate with yourself, you pull the washcloth that matches from its pile.

You set the towel on the closed lid of the toilet, and strip out of your clothes. You fold them neatly and set them on the floor along with your socks, stuffing your underwear into the pocket of your jacket. You step into the shower and pull the door shut behind you.

You turn the knobs and adjust the water so that’s it not too hot, and for a moment, you simply stand there. The water flows over your skin in rivulets, washing away the sweat and grime of the past two days. You try not to take too long, but made sure that you’re thoroughly scrubbed clean. You try not to use too much of Hoseok’s things, even though he’d told you to use whatever you needed.

You’re not sure how long you were in there, how long you stood letting the water wash away your tears as well.

When you step out, steam billowing put behind you, you wiggle your toes into the fluffy cotton mat under you, wrapping the towel around your form. It feels nice to be clean, skin feeling a little raw from the hot water. You tiptoe to the door and ease it open, and it pushes lightly against a bundle of folded clothes on the ground. Next to it, a pair of warm looking house slippers that you shuffle into immediately after drying your feet.

The clothes: a dark grey long sleeve crew neck tee that hangs just a little off one shoulder, a pair of boxer shorts still in it’s wrapping, and long fleece lined sweatpants that you have to fold at your ankles.

Near the door is a towel rack where you hang the towel you used to dry, and after taking a breath, you step out of the bathroom.

You walk back the way Hoseok led you, and the air is prickled with the scent of freshly made food and it makes you wonder just how long you took in the bathroom.

The kitchen is a wide space, between the area that makes up the entrance hallway is a kitchen island, and much like everything else you’ve seen, is a long, polished slab of dark marble. There’s a sink in the middle, sleek and silver and soft white light comes from the fixings above it. Across from that is a large refrigerator, an electric stove and more counter space. There are a few scattered appliances, a coffee maker and a small espresso machine tucked under a cupboard over them, and a blender with something or the other in it.

Hoseok stands with his back to you, he turns slightly, looking over his shoulder and startles.

“Oh – shit.” He laughs softly, “Hey, was your bath okay?”

“Sorry...” You apologize for scaring him and he waves you off, turning to face you fully. He scans your form but there’s nothing odd in the action, and he nods to himself at whatever he was looking for. “Oh, yeah. My bath was okay, thank you.”

“Dinner’s ready if you...oh...” he glances to the side, back to you and then to whatever he’s got going on the stovetop. “...This might be too heavy for you right now...” He murmurs to himself, a hand scratching at the back of his neck. He looks sheepish, a little guilty about something he didn’t consider.

“No, it’s okay. I’ll eat whatever it is.” You’re not about to make him waste his food, or be impolite.

“Okay, well.” He presses a button on the stove panel, turning to the island. There’s the sound of a drawer opening and he pulls out a kitchen towel, smiling at you. He nods his head to the right, where, tucked to the wall is a modest sized wooden table. There’re two plates of what he’s made already there, and tall glasses of water. “Go ahead.”

You walk over to the table, pulling out the chair to sit. Dinner is creamy mashed potatoes, a hearty portion of steamed mixed veggies and steak that’s somehow done to your liking and already cut into pieces. Your mouth waters at the sight and it smells so good you could cry. Hoseok isn’t finished at the island, so you busy yourself with folding the sleeves of your borrowed tee-shirt up and out of the way.

When he comes over he frowns a little, “You didn’t have to wait, dove.” He takes his seat opposite you, “Please, eat.”

The random pet name flies over your head, not that you would’ve been bothered by it had you been paying attention. Hoseok was kind enough to open his home to you, let you use his things and now he’s feeding you. He could call you whatever he likes.

You murmur a thank you and dig into your food. The sound you make when you take the first bite borders on erotic, but your gracious host doesn’t seem to mind very much. There’s a pleased glint in his eyes and a small curl to his mouth as he watches you eat for a moment.

You’re too hungry to be embarrassed by the intensity of his stare, but you’re mindful to not choke or look like you left your manners somewhere at your feet.

The food settles in your stomach, heavy but it’s a feeling you welcome. You could barely remember the last time you had a full meal. The bite you swallow brings the odd feeling of it slowing down behind your sternum, and you take a long drink of the cold water Hoseok had set out for you.

The man himself barely touched his own food, seemingly content to watch you scarf yours down. He has his chin propped in his hand, a small curl to the corner of his mouth and a glint of something in his eyes.

“Thank you...for the food.” You stare at your plate, drizzled with gravy and what’s left of your dinner. You can’t meet his gaze and you’re not certain why, and the intensity of it is starting to gnaw on your senses.

“No need for thanks, little dove.” Hoseok says, and there’s a soft clink when he finally picks his fork up and it knocks against the round rim of the plate. “Just doing my good deed for the day.”

The pet name strikes you this time, no longer distracted by the delicious food and your rumbling tummy. The way it rolls off his tongue sends a shiver racing down your spine, one that was decidedly unpleasant. There’s something in his tone, the way he stares when you raise your eyes to meet his, something in his beautiful heart shaped smile.

The fine hairs at the back of your neck raises, and you’re back to feeling like a bunny in a fox’s burrow. It was the same feeling you’d gotten earlier in the strange fog; the primal sense that you’re no longer the apex.

Something like a bell jingles in the back of your mind and grows louder until its a wailing alarm.

You should leave. Thank him for being so kind and get as far away from him as possible.

The look in his eyes unnerves you, but it’s something you can’t put a finger on. Just off the edge of his form something flutters, a shadow that shouldn’t be there, but it’s gone so quickly you didn’t have time to focus on it. The feeling intensifies; tugging, now.

You don’t think he’s blinked.

A shudder runs through you, rippling along your skin like a shockwave and Hoseok is calling your name.

“Are you okay?” there’s concern on his brow, his unoccupied hand raised in a wave as though he’s been trying to get your attention for a while. “Do you feel sick?”

“N... no. I’m fine, thank you.” You try to smile, but you’re pretty certain it looks as strained as it feels. He was almost done eating, though he’s paused to asses you with furrowed brows. You feel like you’ve missed something in the past minute.

“I asked if you wanted more food but you just blanked on me.” Hoseok sets his fork down and you feel like you’re losing your mind. The feeling from before is gone, and you’re not even certain if you felt it in the first place. Maybe you’re tired, or maybe the feeling of the comforts you’ve missed for so long is messing with your head.

Hoseok looks perfectly normal, there’s nothing flickering at his back or anything odd in his stare.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sure.” You don’t feel certain, and if Hoseok noticed he didn’t comment on it. You pick up the fork again, scraping up the little left of your food onto it quietly. You feel strange, as though the past two minutes moved by too quickly, or like they happened weeks ago and you’re struggling to cling to the details of them.

Hoseok is focused on his plate, and uncertainty at the hope that he keeps his eyes there blooms in your chest. You’re not sure why.

It’s awkwardly quiet for a couple moments, with Hoseok finishing his meal and you, playing with the folded ends of your borrowed tee-shirt. When he was done, he takes the plates and the empty glasses to the sink to clean them and you sit idly at the table.

He’s drying his hands with a dark kitchen towel when he’s done, settling at the edge of the island and facing you. The overhead lights glow against his form, casting shadows along his visage that makes him look sharper; menacing. It clings to his hair like a depiction of something holy, making his dark hair look russet in the gleam.

You go to thank him again, even though he’d probably wave you off like he’s been doing the whole time, but the lights are too bright. The glow of the lights swells and flood your eyes, you squeeze them shut, trying to dispel the ache that comes with it. You turn your head and it feels like you’re neck deep in mud, it takes too much effort to do something so simple.

Panic wells in your chest, sending your heart kicking against your ribs harshly. You take a breath, well, you try, but it gets stuck somewhere in your throat and you choke on it.

There’s two Hoseoks when you peel your eyes open, and they neatly fold the towel they were using and put it down. For a minute, your vision settles, and the man leans against the island nonchalantly, crossing his arms and tilting his head as he watches you spiral.

“You should try to calm down.” He says softly, and you hate the way you cling to the sound of his voice when it’s very clear what’s happening.

“Wh...” Your tongue feels heavy, and the words you try to say are slurred and unintelligible. You move to stand, trying to get away even when your limbs feel like there’s a ball and chains at the ends of them. The world tilts on an axis, doubling as you make to your feet, you’re not sure if it’s leaning or you are.

Hoseok reaches you in a single step and a strangled sound escapes you. He places a hand on your shoulder, gently guiding you back into the chair. “Don’t worry. It’s nothing your body can’t handle.”

You can barely hear him, your ears feel as though there’s cotton in them, reducing his words to a muddled murmur. You can’t feel the way his fingers curl into the hair at your nape, but you notice the shift as he tilts your heavy head back to look up at him.

He’s smiling, you think. Pretty and heart shaped, all white teeth and sinister. And there’s that feeling again, as he says something you can’t hear, can’t focus, your eyes are closing.

There’s something dark and broken that flickers against the light above his head and shadows that dance at his back.

When the morning came and you didn’t wake, Hoseok wasn’t too concerned. He watched over you as once was his duty to another, tucked you into the sheets and the blankets and let you sink into the warmth of them. He sits in a chair at your bedside, simply watching the rise and fall of your chest and the pinch of your brow as sweat beads upon it.

Your body is fighting hard to flush out what he put in, and he admits, he may have given you a bit too much of it. It wasn’t his intention, but nothing can be done now but wait for you to come to.

When the afternoon comes and the first sign of your conscious shows in a weak attempt to rouse yourself, and a jumble of words that Hoseok deciphers with a well-trained ear it; was clear you weren’t fully there yet. Your skin was too warm, eyes not nearly focused enough, barely looking at him, and then the contents of your stomach come in a rush of bile and acid.

Hoseok tends to you gently, patiently, taking you to the bath and settling you in a way so that you don’t slip under and drown in your unconscious state. He cleans your mess, changes the bedding, puts you in a fresh set of clothes and lays you back to rest.

You stay asleep throughout the day, and Hoseok isn’t too concerned.

Humans are such fragile, foolish things. To him, you’re a porcelain doll, pretty to stare at and admire if it sits on the top of a shelf behind a case. Take it out of that case and it’s so easily broken. Hoseok is like a child in a sandbox of his own creation with too much power in his fingers. If he isn’t careful, he could shatter your form and lose you to the dunes.

The fear you felt the night before played you directly into his hands – never mind he had nothing to do with it – and Hoseok knows, you don’t have to be inclined to feel the weight of his presence. Your mind knew that something wasn’t quite right -- unconsciously or not --, and yet, you willingly followed.

Foolish.

Though, it was purely coincidental that you ran into him, he had been on his way to somewhere and wondering about the strangeness of the fog that rolled in out of nowhere. He hadn’t missed the weird quiet and lack of people either, it hadn’t been that late.

He doesn’t know exactly what you were doing in it, running around the way you were like a mouse in a maze. It’s something that sits at the back of his mind.

The morning of the second day brought no change; you were in and out of your drug induced sleep, and now, Hoseok was a little concerned.

::

“How much did you give her?”

There’s a squeak of leather as Seungcheol crosses his arms, when it’s quiet for far too long he gives Hoseok a look.

“A little.”

Seungcheol leans over your sleeping form, raising a hand to rest against your forehead. Hoseok would think you were dead if it weren’t for the steady rise and fall of your chest.

“If it was a little, you wouldn’t have called.” Seungcheol says, shaking his head, the dark waves of his hair brushing his eyelashes.

“Well, she’s not dead.”

“Dude.” Seungcheol looks a little disturbed, straightening to stare at Hoseok with a displeased furrow in his brow. “You can’t just – humans have limitations.”

“I’m aware, Cheol. Thank you.” Hoseok grumbles, and he ignores the raise of Seungcheol’s eyebrow and the clear disbelief in his eyes.

“‘Course you are.” He rolls his eyes and then sighs lowly, he turns back to you, placing his hand on your forehead again until the tension in your face fades. “Don’t give her any more of that shit. She should wake up sometime today, maybe.”

Hoseok knows better than anyone the limitations of humans. Not that he acknowledges them, he hadn’t the need to in a long time, but he should be careful at least.

Hoseok leads the way out of his guest bedroom with Seungcheol following and closing the door gently behind him. Walking to the kitchen he could feel his eyes burning into the back of his head.

Hoseok takes his time, fetching a glass from one of his cupboards and the whisky he keeps stashed away for his more stressful days. “Spit it out.”

Seungcheol braces his arms on the other side of the island, eyes dark. “Hoseok. I normally don’t care what you get up to; it’s not my business.” He says, looking somewhere to Hoseok’s right. “You don’t fuck around with humans. Who’s the girl?”

Hoseok hums, looking down at the amber liquid in his glass with a contemplative stare. “Street urchin. No one anyone would miss or bother to look for.”

“So you just took her off the street?” Seungcheol frowns, but Hoseok could tell from the look in his eyes that he knows it’s not that simple.

“She came willingly.” Hoseok corrects, taking a sip of the alcohol he could barely taste.

He sets the glass down on the island and pours the whisky to fill half. Seungcheol is quiet, and Hoseok hates it. It gives his mind a moment to wonder, to open a box he’s kept locked and chained.

On most days, Hoseok barely knows himself. He remembers what he’s supposed to be – what he was – and sometimes, that part of him rears its head to fight with what he’s become. Wings dipped in gold and divinity at the end of his fingertips battle endlessly with the shadows that encased him.

A memory of a time he held something as fragile as glass in his hands, broken before he could properly hold it by someone who was supposed to keep it safe. The ache of it burns like a rash that never goes away, always there, only hiding under his skin until it flares up again.

“Just... don’t do anything stupid.” Seungcheol says after a while, watching Hoseok carefully.

“You and your moral compass.” Hoseok shakes his head, and just like that, the golden light is bundled up tightly and pushed back into the corner where he long hid it.

Seungcheol heaves a sigh, shaking his head, picking up his bag he threw on the island counter when he got here.

“I need you to do something for me.” Hoseok says, watching the light shine through the glass in pretty crystal shapes. There’s a furrow of Seungcheol’s brows, but he tells Hoseok to continue with a raise of his chin. “Keep an eye out for a fog.”

“A fog? Why?”

“She was in one the night before.” Hoseok sucks air in through his teeth, “and she wasn’t alone.”

Seungcheol hums, “Alright.”

Hoseok drinks the last of the whisky in one go and waves a hand at Seungcheol, “You can go now.”

“Thank you, Cheol. Don’t know what I’d do without you.” Seungcheol grumbles and then raps his knuckles against the countertop. “I’ll be over here for a few days, gotta sort some things out. Call if you need me.”

Hoseok watches him leave, stuffing his hands into his pocket as he walks back to the bedroom where you still lay asleep.

He sits on the chair, watching the rise and fall of your chest, every minute twitch of your facial features. Restlessness tugs at his limbs as the sun makes its descent western sky, spraying the dimming canvas in hues of lilac and peach.

Something in the back of his mind asks what exactly he’s doing. There was no reason – there wasn’t a reason for him to take you in. A sprout of boredom, maybe, or something involuntary.

Hoseok stares out the window at the slowly darkening sky and the soft glimmer of early evening stars, until the sky is navy and darkness clings to the room.

Your mouth feels like someone’s stuffed cotton in it, and your throat feels like sandpaper when you try to swallow.

You haven’t opened your eyes, laying on what you presume is a bed, if the softness beneath you was anything to go by.

There’s not much that you remember, even as the fog in your mind clears little by little. You remember eating, you remember feeling strange like someone had shrunk you and shook you around in a jar of water. You remember the fear that quickened your heart and your breaths and Hoseok, standing above you like a malevolent God.

You remember the strangeness of his form, and even now your mind can’t comprehend it. You’re not even certain if what you saw was actually real and not an effect of whatever Hoseok had drugged you with.

Drugged.

He drugged you.

Your eyes open and the room is dark. The blankets are thick and heavy and they make you feel warm. There’s a window to your far left, curtains drawn back to show the city in all it’s glory.

Slowly, you sit up, pushing yourself upwards on arms that feel a little weak, and find – to your horror – the clothes you were wearing before aren’t what you’re wearing now.

You take a breath before the panic could set in. You could feel it rolling under your skin like a rumble of thunder before rain, and you try your best to stay calm. You need to find a way out of here.

The apartment seems to be quiet as you slide your feet out of the bed and onto the floor. You barely register the chill of it when you stand, sock-less feet making it easier to sneak over to the door without making a sound. You don’t know where Hoseok put your things, and you don’t have time to go looking for them.

The door isn’t locked, and doesn’t make noise when you push it open slightly to peek out through the little gap you made. You recognise the hallway, the bathroom is two doors down on the other side, and opening the door a little more, you poke your head out tentatively. 

You don’t breathe as you listen, but it’s so quiet, so much so that your exhale seems too loud, and there’s a soft ringing in your ears that set you on edge. Stepping outside the room, you contemplate your next course of action: You can bolt right for the door and get out, but risk making too much noise if Hoseok is indeed here. Or, you can slowly and quietly make your way over and slip out without cluing your kidnapper in on your escape.

Can it be called kidnapping if you were living on the streets?

The door seems miles away as you inch slowly towards the open kitchen and living room area. There are a few lights on, the same LED lighting strips run along the edge of the large pane windows and glows an ominous blue and the lights over the marble island had been dimmed. Both rooms seem empty and you couldn’t be more thankful.

Like a mouse, you skitter across along the hallway space that divides the two, down the little platform at the entrance and take one more step towards the door.

The door that seems further back than it was a second ago.

The stretch of space that was just an arm’s length away was now more than a hallway’s length. You stand still and stare at it, reaching an arm out in case you’re suddenly tripping balls but your hand swipes through air and falls limply at your side.

You look behind you and the rooms and hallway are just as they were, and turning back, the door was right where it was before. You could’ve sworn there was a handle on it. You place your palm against the cool, smooth surface where the handle should be and in the face of your freedom thwarted, you pinch your thigh.

You must be dreaming. The pain flares and grounds you and you realise there’s no explanation for this. You’re wide awake. Still drugged then. But you feel fine. There’s no swirling vision or heavy limbs, your mouth doesn’t feel like someone squeezed glue into it; you’re fine. This doesn’t make sense.

You back away from the door and almost stumble against the raised ledge behind your heels. Steadying yourself with a hand against the wall, you turn, and immediately, notice the darkness of the hallway.

Your breath catches in your throat and your heart slams so harshly against your sternum it hurt. There’s that feeling again, it sends a shiver racing down your spine and scattering goosebumps along your skin. You’re being watched. You are not the apex here.

You want to run, or curl up into a ball and hope the darkness hides you. Fear coils into your muscles and locks them tight, and you’re left standing still, eyes darting around trying to make sense of the shapes in the dark.

There’s a darkness that curls at the center of the space a few feet away from you, undulating and crashing in on itself in an uncoordinated dance of chaos. It’s somehow darker than the darkness – stands out against it like white on black paint. It doesn’t make sense to you, and it could simply be your mind turning against you and scaring you further.

It slowly floats towards you, wraps around you in a languid, bored way, like smoke, no longer as tangible as it seemed before. You don’t feel it’s caress, but it’s cold, like you’d submerged yourself into a tub full of ice and water. You feel as though you’ll pass out, like the black wisps of strange smoke is filling your lungs and carving its way through. There’s fear, which is yours, and something that isn’t.

Something dark and lonely, desperate and afraid. It’s sad, so sad that you feel like you’ll drown in it, that tears would well in your eyes and squeeze your throat tight. There’s anger. It feels as though you can burn the world and revel in it.

The smoke snaps back and away from you, crumples on itself violently and then the lights are on, blinding you.

Hoseok is standing in front of you. There’s a mix of conflicted emotions on his face like he can’t settle on one before the storm in his eyes calm.

There’s a tenseness to his brow, and he studies you quietly with a tilt of his head.

“You’re awake.”

He takes one step forward and you take two back in turn. His eyes dart down to your feet and quickly back to your face, and draws the foot he put forward back to himself.

“I won’t hurt you.”

You scoff before you could help it, fear pushed slightly to the side as your anger rushes forward. “Right. Like I’ll believe that after you fucking drugged me.”

“Like I said, it was nothing your body couldn’t handle.” Hoseok counters calmly, “If I wanted to hurt you, you’d be dead.”

“Then why am I here? What do you want?” His threat didn’t go unheard, it settles into your mind and buries itself underneath everything else you’re trying to absorb for you to freak out about later.

Hoseok smiles, and its bright in its visage, every bit of sweet and caring as you thought him to be. Dimples you haven’t noticed before sinks into his laugh lines, and you think briefly, it makes him even more dangerous. He looks so harmless, as his smile blossoms and blooms into the heart shape you remember from the night before.

“Just you.” He says, eyes glinting with something you’ve decided is more than a little crazy.

You take another step back and he remains in his spot. If you’re quick enough – just enough – you can make it to the door. You might be able to outrun him.

“You can leave if you like.” He says, like he could tell what you’re thinking – or read your mind – and his smile fades, like a raincloud swelling and covering the warm rays of the sun. “Can’t guarantee you’d get very far, so I advise against it.”

You’re not sure if he’s being honest. Though, he looks pretty damn serious. He stares at you quietly, intensely, like he’s daring you to make that mistake. You hazard a look at the door behind you and the handle is still gone.

“What are you?” you ask, turning to face him and he’s directly in front of you. The startled squeak that leaves you makes him chuckle. Bending at his waist, Hoseok stares right into your eyes and you feel like your heart might just burst out of your chest and take off running.

Bunny in a fox’s burrow.

“Hm.” He hums, “Now you’re asking questions.” He straightens with a smile and steps aside, gesturing to the kitchen with a slight nod of his head. “I’ll tell you eventually. For now though, you should eat.”

You stay rooted to your spot and decide that if he wants you to move, he’s going to have to move you himself. He’s insane if he thinks you’d be eating anything he gives you.

“Come now, dove. Don’t be that way.” He sighs, stares at you for a moment later before nodding. He turns on his heel and walks into the kitchen without you.

There’re the soft clangs of him moving things around, doing whatever he’s doing in there.

“You’ve been unconscious for two days, and you’ve been sick. You shouldn’t be standing.” You hear him say from the kitchen, and you think you could make another attempt at the door but the handle is still missing, so you have no choice but to go.

You eye him suspiciously when you enter, watching as he butters a piece of toast and puts it on a plate. He doesn’t look at you as you hover unsurely at the dining table, watching the lights catch on the dark marble island counter.

“I won’t give you anything to drink. Get it yourself if you’re worried I’d try something.” He says softly, and not unkind. There’s a shift in his tone and the way his body moves as he brings the plate over. You feel like the man who was standing in front of you a couple of minutes ago in the hallway had hidden himself away and the man you’d met on the street had crawled his way back to the surface.

He sets it down on the table and walks back around the island, opposite from where you’re standing, and out of the kitchen.

You’ve been here for two days – whatever he’d given you must have been strong as hell – trapped here with...him. You’re certain you can’t call him a man, he’s something more than that and you won’t know until he tells you. Most of the memory of the night you came here are blurry and frayed at the edges, making them impossible to cling to and analyse.

There was something strange in the moments before the drug kicked in and right before you passed out. Something strange about Hoseok, but you can’t seem to recall it. It’s like it happened years ago.

The inconsistencies of your memory leave you on edge, and you eye the two slices of perfectly buttered toast on the plate. He’s given you something light enough that your stomach won’t be upset. As the thought comes to mind you faintly remember being sick at some point, but that too is fuzzy and you aren’t sure if its real. At least now the change of clothes makes sense, though, it doesn’t make you feel any better. He could’ve done anything to you while you were drugged and unconscious.

You wonder what he could possibly want with you. Why you, of all people? You’re just a girl who had everything taken from her and thrown off the ladder, now at rock bottom fending for yourself. There’s nothing left of you that could be given.

You feel Hoseok’s presence before you see him, a sort of odd pressure in the back of your mind and your chest. He pokes his head into the room like he’s checking to see if you’d started eating or not and doesn’t look surprised to see you’d left the toast untouched and you’re still standing.

“The toast is fine, you know.” He says, and there’s an understanding in his eyes when he looks at you. He knows you don’t trust him, though, he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. He sighs when you don’t make a move and comes into the kitchen. He takes the same route as before, walking around the opposite side of the island – away from you – until he’s standing at the other side of table.

“Okay.” He says, picking up one of the toast slices, he bites into it and stares at you while he chews. “Make something yourself then.”

You blink, “Huh?”

“The bread is in the fridge if you want. There’re oats if you prefer that instead. Stick to light things. I’d rather not be cleaning up after you.” You don’t understand him. In the short time you’ve known him, he’s like a square that’s trying to fit into a circle. The circle is too round to accommodate his sharp edges, but he somehow manages to get just half of the square through, even if the circle is struggling to contain it.

Not to mention the weird things that’s happened within the half hour you’ve been awake, things he’s yet to explain to you. Matter of fact, strange things has been happening since you left Abigail. The police officer, the fog, and whatever the hell was out there in it with you. You’re not even sure if that was real either.

You feel like if you focus on it, you’ll go crazy. So your mind does the only thing it can do to protect itself – pushes it away into a corner to mull over later along with everything else.

“I’d rather not.” You no longer feel the need to show him gratitude. You feel stupid, for one, why did you think trusting a random stranger would be a good thing?

Hoseok shrugs, dropping the half-eaten toast back onto the plate. He walks around you, close enough that the hairs on the back of your neck stands on end, that the warning bells are going crazy in your head again.

It’s uncomfortable being this close. The reaction is visceral, unable to ignore and you wonder why you hadn’t felt it the night before. Why you’d manage to follow him all the way here and not noticed. Maybe you had, briefly and in little moments that were small enough for you to brush them off.

You watch him watch you as he circles you like a vulture, “What are you?”

“Would you believe me if I said I was human?” He asks from behind you, and it feels like a terrible idea to have your back to him. He sounds amused, like this is nothing but a little game to him – just something to pass time while he’s bored.

As he rounds your right, your eyes meet the darkness of his. “You’re not.” It would be strange if you still thought he was after everything that’s happened already.

Hoseok hums, a twinkle lighting his eyes, “Perceptive, aren’t we?” There’s something like pride in his voice but you’re not sure what it’s for, “What do you think I am?”

“You expect me to guess correctly?” The difference in your height does nothing to stop you from glaring at him. He tilts his head at you, dark locks of his hair swaying against his forehead gently.

“No.” Hoseok smiles, “But it’ll make things interesting. I like games; play along.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his tone and the darkness in his eyes. He takes a step away from you and it feels like you can finally take a breath. His movements are fluid as he pulls the dining chair out from below the table. He sits gracefully, propping his chin in his palm as he watches you expectantly.

“Do you want a hint?” He asks, smiling sweetly.

“Why don’t you just tell me?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You’re tired of whatever game he’s playing at, sick of the fear that keeps you standing still as he stares you down.

He stares at you like you’re a complex puzzle he’s trying to piece together. “I used to be an angel. Fallen from grace.”

You’d laugh at the absurdity of his words, but he has that look again. He has that look that makes you believe him, and everything seems to click into place and make sense, even if you barely understand it at all.

“Okay.” You nod, and then take a seat. You focus on the gentle waves of his dark hair and not his eyes, “Why am I here? Why can’t I leave?”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t. You can if you want to. I said that I can’t guarantee you’d get far; You weren’t alone out in that fog.”

You’d almost forgotten about that. Recent happenings had been enough to push it to the back of your mind. You knew you weren’t losing your mind that night, something had definitely chased you and you’re positive it wasn’t a regular animal.

“But that’s another topic.” Hoseok mumbles, more to himself than you, and it looks as though his thoughts strayed elsewhere for a moment before he focused. “You should be thanking me.” He says, tilting his head to meet your gaze with a smile.

He couldn’t be seriously wanting you to thank him. For what? Saving you? For all you know it could’ve been one of his tricks. Why would you thank him? He says that you could leave if you like – him messing with you since you woke up says otherwise. He’s not actually giving you a choice. You’re not going anywhere unless he lets you.

When you remain silent, he leans forward, pink tongue darting out to moisten his lips. “There’s nothing for you out there, though.”

You know he’s right. But that doesn’t justify what he’s doing. You assume he doesn’t care, if you were him, you wouldn’t feel the need to abide by law either.

You’d never been much for fantasy stories, growing up you were well aware that they were just that – stories. Your parents weren’t very religious, but you’d say grace before meals, pray before you go to sleep and when you woke up. Your parents would sometimes quote the bible when you were being naughty and every now and again you’d find yourself in a church for Sunday mas.

Your father used to say that the bible is a book of stories and lessons, and even if you aren’t to abide strictly by it, you should at least heed it. There’s someone up above, watching always.

The angels in the bible were described differently than the man before you, you think. Can angels really do things so bad that it gets them casted out?

Did he do something bad that got him sent here like some wayward child sent off to boot camp?

Even if a part of you is ever doubtful, his existence proves the existence of a higher being and you have some choice words for them.

In the days that go by, you remain wary of Hoseok. You don’t trust him, but you appreciate him letting you hover about him anytime he makes you something to eat. He makes everything from scratch and you wonder most of the time if it’s a skill he just has or was it something he had to hone on his own.

He barely bothers you, goes about his business, which really, entails him sitting in the living room and ignoring you.

Some days is another story entirely. You came to realise quickly that Hoseok is fond of games, usually at your expense. A shadow following you here, whispers that come from no where and bounces off the walls.

There are moments when you catch glimpses of something out of the corner of your eye – a figure lurking in the darkness, just beyond your line of sight. When you turn to look, there’s nothing there, leaving you to wonder if it was ever really there at all. You’ve seen shit at the corner of your vision way too many times for it to be a coincidence. You try to brush them off as tricks of the mind, but deep down, you know it’s not that simple.

Hoseok is always there when it happens, some sort of mirth in his eyes like your suffering is amusing.

The feeling of being watched becomes a constant presence, a weight on your shoulders that you can’t shake no matter how hard you try. Every time you turn around, you half expect to find Hoseok lurking in the shadows, a smug smirk playing on his lips as he revels in your discomfort.

For the first week it’s been this way, and when the second week started, he’d leave at one point during the day. Bored of you most likely, not that you’re complaining; at least he was no longer trying to send you crazy.

He’d give you the same instruction he did the night be brought you, use anything you need with additions of ‘Don’t cause trouble’ and ‘Stay put’. You always roll your eyes at that, the door remains the same; missing it’s handle. You couldn’t leave even if you wanted to.

You would stand in the living room, which looks much like the rest of Hoseok’s penthouse apartment; sleek and dark. There’s a few accents of white and red, black leather couches and clear glass tables. A flat screen TV you’ve never seen used mounted on the wall, a fluffy white rug covering the space between it and the couch. You’ve seen no other electronics besides that, nothing that you can use to contact anyone.

He’d left you things to occupy your time – like you’re a child – books and puzzles and what have you. And you found that the TV works if you become bored of the other things.

Weirdly enough, there’s people outside and below, unlike the night you came when it looked like a ghost town. You can see the glint of the sun bouncing off of shiny cars driving in and out of the hotel’s compound. Little people walking around as they go about their days, oblivious to your plight.

Sometimes you would hear someone out in the hallway beyond the door, like someone coming to clean and you would bang on the door and be as loud as you possibly could. It’s like you’re a ghost. You asked him about that once, and he told you that he can mimic spaces, make it seems as though something is or isn’t there.

Sometimes Hoseok would come back from his little excursions and be as normal as he could be. He’d talk to you like he isn’t holding you captive, ask you about what you did for the day as though there’s a million and one things you could do while there. You’d answer as to not be on the wrong side of him, even though it’s clear that he doesn’t quite mind you not saying anything back. He’d ask you what you’d like for dinner, and he’d eat with you.

On days like those it feels... normal. You feel comfortable and the nature of the situation escapes you. Like this had been your life for as long as you could remember. And sometimes you think, that maybe, if things were different. If perhaps he hadn’t kidnapped you, ‘helping’ you or otherwise. Maybe if your life had gone a little differently and you’d met him under different circumstances...then maybe.

Sometimes on those days he’d sit quietly as you give him little pieces of you; telling him about your childhood and not so important things. He’d clear the coffee table to put a puzzle together and ask you to help him with it.

Some days he’d come back and he wouldn’t be in a good mood. He’d stand and brood at the large windows looking out, lost in thought. On those days he’d look gone, vacant, as though whatever going on in his head was paramount to the reality around him. His eyes are sad then, and he’d be so quiet you’d forget he’s there. He’d make dinner, and he would not eat.

On days like those, if you wake at night and venture out of your room, you’d find Hoseok as you did the night you first woke up. A swirling ball of shadows and smoke somewhere about, and the lights are always off. It scares the hell out of you every time. It reminds you of what he is, despite the nature of his existence, there’s something very dark about him. He scares you mostly, even when he’s being nice, it’s unnerving. You’d try to stay clear of him then.

Something in your mind had been made aware that he is beyond your understanding. He’s stronger and faster than you, can do things that makes your brain grind to a halt trying to process. Sometimes it feels like he’s in your head, watching your every move and surveying your every thought. It scares you.

On days like those, the last thing you want to do is sleep.

Sleep evades you and when you do finally catch it, your dreams are wrought with nightmares of shadows and screams and blood. Sometimes Hoseok is there and he’s less kind than he’s ever been, and you’re lost in darkness and can’t find your way out.

Sometimes it’s a man with red hair lurking at the corners of them, smiling and taunting you. You feel like you could never escape them, like your dreams lasts the entire night and leave you exhausted when you wake up.

The room you woke up in so long ago was yours; Hoseok stays clear of it and never enters without knocking. One day Hoseok had brought you clothes you’re certain costs more than your life, they’re mostly comfort clothes as you have nowhere to be at no point in time. From sweaters to tee-shirts, lounge pants to bicycle shorts and an assortment of underwear that made you scowl at him.

That day you asked him just how long he was going to keep you captive – he didn’t much like the use of that word, prefers ‘keeping you safe’. He told you about the mysterious animal that chased you in the fog, that he and a friend are looking into it and reminds you that you wouldn’t get very far should you leave. You reminded him that he’s not letting you go anywhere.

You stare up at the ceiling, counting the swirling pattern from one corner to the next. You’ve lost count of them every time and you’ve lost count on just how long you’ve been here. Hoseok remains the same, fluctuating between rivalling the sun and being the moon that sometimes eclipse it.

It’s the morning of yet another day, and you can hear Hoseok moving about already. Sometimes you wonder if he ever sleeps...does he need sleep? He eats...that much is for certain, so by any rate he functions partially human.

You sigh softly, getting out of bed and shuffling your feet to the house slippers Hoseok gave to you. There’s the smell of breakfast coming from the kitchen, the sound of Hoseok moving about, and it sounds like he’s in a good mood if his humming is anything to go by.

You wash up for the morning and get changed before carrying yourself out to the kitchen.

Hoseok looks devastatingly domestic and the smile he directs at you is enough to send your mind haywire. These past few days has been confusing for you. Though the initial fear you felt for him was there, lately, it’s been less. You’ve found yourself missing him when he goes off to do whatever he does during the day and you’re excited when he comes back. You’re chalking up the reason for that being that he’s the only person you’ve been in contact with for possibly a month or two.

On some of the days where he would come back and be less than happy, and the lights go out like they’re scheduled to and Hoseok is no longer tangible. When he hovers in a little ball of controlled chaos that blends into the darkness, you sit and wait. You wait until he’s there again and the lights are back on and he looks at you like you’re something he’s lost.

It confuses you as much as his smile that sends your heart thrumming against your ribcage in a dance that isn’t out of fear. You actually can’t remember when you’d stopped being afraid of him.

“I’m going out today.”

Your brows furrow, he’s never told you that he’s leaving before. He brings over a breakfast of pancakes, scrambled eggs, bacon and sliced fruit. A sealed carton of orange juice and a glass for you.

“Okay...?”

Hoseok smiles, “Okay.”

::

When lunch came around, you’re sitting at the island watching Hoseok prepare the ingredients for whatever he’s going to make.

You don’t really feel the need to watch him as closely as you did when you first got here, now you simply do it because there isn’t anything better to do.

He moves in the kitchen like it’s a dance, turning to and fro with a grace you could only hope to have.

He’s already got something on the stove, some sort of sauce you think. It smells amazing and you’re looking forward to whatever it could be.

He looks a bit in his head, brows furrowed as he concentrated a little too hard to just be cutting an onion into crescent slices. He mutters something under his breath, turning to stir the contents in the pot before going back at the onion.

“Hoseok?” You call softly as he sets the onion aside in a bowl and pulls something else onto the cutting board. For a moment you’re not sure if he’s heard you, with just the steady sound of the knife hitting the board, he hums, glancing at you. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yes.” You can tell he’s in one of his moods, but he’s actively trying to be pleasant. He fills a pot with water and sets it on the stove and then turns the oven on to heat up. “What is it?”

His tone isn’t harsh, just a tad bit impatient.

“Is cooking just something that you can do? Or did you have to learn?”

He turns, pauses, stares at you for a moment and then chuckles, “It’s a skill I acquired through a lot of trial and error. I had a long time to perfect it, though.”

“How long are we talking?” You’re a little intrigued, besides him telling you that he’s a fallen angel, he hasn’t told you exactly how he became one or how long he’s been here.

He tilts his head and smiles gently in the way he does when he’s thinking if he should answer you honestly or not before shrugging, “Long enough.”

You sigh, “Fine. Don’t tell me. You’re probably older than dirt anyway.”

A surprised laugh leaves him, high pitched and a little untamed. The sound is infectious and now you’re laughing too.

Happiness looks good on him, you wish he wore it often.

When it was about four in the afternoon, you hear the closing of Hoseok’s door and the sound of his footsteps walking up the hall.

You’re curled up against the corner of the couch, tucked under a yellow blanket with a book in your hand. You smell him before you see him; the cologne he’s wearing reaching the room before he does.

He steps in and stands near the entrance, the end of his coat brushing against his shins while he secures a watch to his wrist. His hair’s grown longer since he brought you here, curling against his jaw and the bangs are long enough to almost hide his eyes if not for the middle part. The rings on his fingers catch the light of the sun, and he finally settles, a serious look on his face as he watches you for a moment.

He seems to be contemplating something, the muscle of his jaw tensing as he grinds his teeth. He lifts a hand and crooks a finger at you.

Unwrapping yourself from the blanket, you walk over to him. He doesn’t say anything, but levels you with a look and guides you into the hallway with a hand at your back. “I’m leaving the door alone.”

The door is practically singing your freedom, the silver handle looks like a lighthouse at a stormy sea at night. Hoseok is looking down his nose at you when you finally tear your eyes away. His eyes narrow as though he can hear your thoughts and steps away from you.

“Don’t go anywhere.”

And you didn’t. You messed around with the TV, got bored, read another book, and decide to take a nap. Doing it all to ignore the door. You wouldn’t get very far. You really don’t want to know what Hoseok meant by that.

There isn’t anywhere you can go, you have nothing to your name. You get three square meals, clean clothes and a bed to sleep in when night comes – you think about Abigail, you wonder if she’s alright – you’d actually be quite dumb to go out there. Hoseok hasn’t done much but mentally exhaust you, you aren’t chained up in a dank room and being made to do things against your will. It’s actually quite pleasant.

You shuffle to your room and crawl under the covers, suddenly too sleepy to keep your eyes open. You would usually take naps when there’s nothing else for you to do, but you’re never this sleepy. It’s like your body is demanding you close your eyes and pass out right now.

You open your eyes a couple of minutes later and realise you didn’t know you fell asleep. It’s dark out already.

You throw the covers back, scoot to the edge of the bed, and put your feet right into water. You look down at it confused – did you leave a tap on? Hoseok would probably throw you out a window for flooding his place. Or maybe he’ll start up his silly mind games again and drive you nuts.

You’re not too concerned about it, strangely enough, as you get up, the water soaks into the legs of your pants. It’s high enough to lap against the middle of your shins and you curse softly, how could you forget to turn the tap off?

You swish through the water, reaching the door and pulling it open. The water is gone and you’re standing in the living room. Hoseok sits on the couch, one leg lapped over the other, bobbing idly as he turns the page of a thick book balanced on his thigh.

“Hoseok.” You sigh, “Stop it. I’m not in the mood for your stupid games.”

He turns his head slowly to look at you, crooks a finger like he did at you earlier. You stomp over to him, not caring that you probably look rather childish doing so. When you stop in front of him, he gently puts the book aside and then wraps his fingers around your wrist.

Your pulse flutters and you pray that he can’t feel it. A soft squeak leaving you as he tugs you to him, you fumble to catch yourself, trying not to trip over your feet and the carpet. Your hand lands beside his head, sinking into the leather, his eyes meet yours through his hair, and when he pulls you down, you follow without question.

He settles you in his lap, one hand gripping your waist and the other snaking upward to bury itself into your hair. He leans forward, nosing along the underside of your jaw and when the warmth of his tongue streaks against your pulse, a shiver races down your spine before you catch yourself. You push against his shoulder, “Hoseok.”

His chuckle sounds dark to your ears, his grip on your waist tightens enough that you fear you’d bruise. His teeth drag against your earlobe and yours sink into your bottom lip. “Don’t act like this isn’t what you want.”

His words wrap around your head, burying themselves under your skin and makes home there. The hand in your hair slowly slides out of it, moving down until it’s wrapped around your throat. His thumb presses against your racing pulse, a smirk curling at the corner of his mouth. “You want me to break you.”

It’s a moment of bliss, warmth spreading through you before it instantly chills. It’s all fun and games until he’s actually trying to choke you out. Your breaths come in shallow gasps as Hoseok’s grip tightens around your throat, squeezing the air from your lungs. Panic surges through you, and for a moment, you’re certain you’ll pass out from lack of oxygen.

He’s going to kill you.

Desperate, you claw at his hands, trying to pry them away, but his strength overwhelms you. Your struggles intensify as you realize the danger you’re in.

He stands swiftly and lets you go, and you crash unceremoniously into the glass coffee table, nearly breaking your wrist trying to catch your weight. You cough and gasp, clutching at your throat that burns with every breath you take. Your eyes sting with tears as you scramble to put distance between you and him.

He watches you, amused, taking slow steps towards you. He laughs, the sound echoing off the walls and you realise – there’s nowhere to run.

You look up at him, and you’re now facing the windows. The LEDs that line the perimeter of them are glowing a sinister red and they’re the only source of light. There’s something slick under your palms, something you slide in as you try to get up. Inspecting it in the lighting does nothing, as it simply looks dark against your skin, but, there’s no mistaking the scent of copper.

Gazing around, you’re sitting in a pool of blood. Hoseok is nowhere to be found. The pool stretches off like something was dragged through it, going out the living room and down the hall.

You follow it, against your better judgement. This is the worst trick he’s ever played.

Your pants stick to your skin uncomfortably, and you wipe your hands hurriedly against the front of them. It doesn’t do much but spread the mess of blood around. The trail leads into your bedroom, and you stand outside the slightly ajar door with your heart pounding against your ribs.

Raising a hand, you push the door open, but plan to go no further than the threshold. The lights are on, dimly, it doesn’t give you much vision, but you could see Hoseok standing over someone.

It’s you, well...it was you. You’re not sure if you could call that you anymore. Limbs twisted in unnatural angles, sharp ends of bone sticking out from your bruised skin.

You stumble backwards, slipping in the still wet trail of blood and falling against the door behind you. Tears blur your vision, you feel sick.

“You see?” a voice whispers, echoing and bouncing around in your head. “This is what will happen.”

There’s someone else here.

“He’ll kill you.” The voice snickers, crawling along your skin like poison ivy. “Run. Get out.”

You startle awake, gasping for air, searching your body for any sign of blood. The sun is almost setting, preparing to make its descent in the west and you dart out of bed. Your skin feels tight, like you’re too big for it and it makes you uncomfortable. Your breaths are harsh barely making it into your lungs before you’re forcing it out again.

You make for the door, yanking it open and running down the hall. You didn’t stop to think, you just want out. You push the entrance door and it opens and you stumble out into the hallway you haven’t seen in ages.

You run up to the elevator, the overhead floor indicator is blank. And the elevator doesn’t budge when you push the button frantically. Hands caught in your hair you spin around, there must be a way.

The green exit sign glows like a beacon of hope. You trip over your feet getting to it, almost face planting on the expensive rug that lines the hallway. The door opens with a click and your footsteps echo in the stairwell as you take them two at a time to get as far away from this place as possible.

You don’t stop until you’re three flights down, breath ragged and vision spotty. You lean against the wall to catch your breath, panting and wiping the sweat off your brow.

There’s a loud bang that echoes from somewhere below and you freeze. Taking careful steps you peek between the railings and see nothing.

It might be Hoseok.

Or, it could be someone else in the building and your only hope of getting out of here.

“Hello? Is someone ther—” There’s another loud bang, and you take a couple steps down the fourth flight and look over the railing again. A thick fog swirls just a floor below.

The hair on the back of your neck shoots up at the low growl that dances up the stairwell. You nearly go tumbling down it in your haste to turn around and go back up.

As you turn to go back up the third flight, the fog surrounds you and you stop as it becomes impossible to see. You grip tightly to the stair railing, tentatively stepping up – You’re trying not to breathe too loudly.

There’s something scraping against the ground on the stairs below and your heart kicks. You step faster, at the same time trying not to trip and break your neck. There’s a low snarl and you bolt, taking the stair two at a time back up the way you came.

The floor vibrates beneath you as whatever it is gives chase. You make it up to the first landing, pulling the exit door open with a grunt. You’re just about to step through when what feels like three hot butcher knives slices through your back. The force of it sends you pitching forward, smacking hard into the wall on the opposite side before you crumple against it.

You could barely feel it, you’re aware you’re hurt...you could feel the pulsing, open wounds at your back. Your mind is trying to process as you struggle to move, taking a breath aches as you push yourself upward and away from the wall just enough to turn. You don’t manage much more than that, sliding down the wall until your butt hits the pretty red carpet.

The metal door of the emergency exit swings open harshly, banging loudly against the wall before it leans forward; one of the hinges broken. The thing that stands in the doorway looks like it crawled out of some deep, dark part of hell. It’s standing on it’s hind legs before it drops forward, claws that look at least nine inches long scraping against the linoleum.

It looks like a giant dog, honestly. It’s hard to tell when all you could focus on was that you could feel your heartbeat at your back, and the slick warmth soaking into your ruined sweater and pants. Shock maybe...or adrenaline, was keeping most of the pain at bay, you’re pretty sure you’d be dead otherwise right now.

With a guttural growl, the creature emerges, its form contorted and twisted, as if it were forged from the very essence of nightmares.

Its body is a grotesque fusion of twisted flesh and sinew, its skin a sickly shade of mottled grey, stretched taut over bulging muscles that ripple with every movement. Sharp spikes protrude from its spine, glinting menacingly in the dim light, while its black eyes burn with a fiery intensity that seems to pierce through your very soul.

The creature's mouth curls into a snarl, revealing rows of razor-sharp teeth stained with blood. Its breath is a noxious cloud of decay and sulphur, filling the air with a suffocating stench that makes your stomach churn.

As it lurches forward on all fours, its movements are unnaturally fluid, each step sending tremors through the ground beneath you. It’s trying to squeeze its way through the small space of the doorway, too big to pass through, and you could do nothing but watch.

Your vision goes hazy as you simply stare at the creature.

The adrenaline is fading and you’re starting to feel your wounds, but maybe if you could crawl towards the door...

At six pm on a Friday evening, Hoseok isn’t at all surprised to see the line of people waiting to get into the club. It’s still a long way to opening, but with the prestige of this place, again, he isn’t surprised.

He was with Yoongi when he bought the place, watched him build it from the ground up. Watched his taste for the interior bounce around erratically until he settled, as the clientele flickered from the common club goer to people – if they had enough money – buying their way in.

Haegeum is on the high-end of the city, the type of place where you’d wonder if folks had enough money to burn just because. Yoongi doesn’t discriminate and all are welcomed.

The queue is a mix of people: folks dressed to the nines just to step a foot in the place, those of which would most likely be sitting pretty in the VIP section. People just looking for a place to escape to for a while, teenagers holding tight to their fake Ids and clinging to their friends. They mingle in groups or alone, their chatter filling the air with a soft buzz of voices and hushed giggles.

Hoseok takes everything in with an air of nonchalance as he strolls by.

The bouncer at the heavy black door stands stoically, clipboard in hand for VIP clients. Hoseok breezes past him when he opens the door to let him in, stepping into the entrance foyer, illuminated by dim red lights. He walks down the hall, and down the dark metal staircase into the main floor of the club.

The above head white florescent lights do nothing to take away from the grandeur of the club, though, Hoseok likes it better when it’s late and the lights are off. The main floor is usually accented in lights of blue and red, casting shadows streaking along the sitting area. Embedded into the walls are velvet couches that flow with the design in a sort of snake like shape, a short-legged coffee table and single seated chairs dotted between every inward curve. There’s a wide enough walkway for two people walking side by side to pass, a partition of glass, and on the other side of it, black leather couches and even more glass coffee tables.

 The walls are interesting, and Hoseok thinks this because he doesn’t know why Yoongi likes it so much. In large arched alcoves sits head statues of Greek gods of mortal tales, staring lifelessly into the distance, bathed in dark blue light. Between every two are columns that resembles those of a temple, and smooth grey stone. Hoseok honestly doesn’t know which vibe Yoongi is going for, not that he’d say it to his face.

He walks down the little walkway, down another set of stairs and across the dance floor. The bar is tucked in a corner, glasses being wiped by one of Yoongi’s employees behind it. Hoseok offers the man a nod of his head, moving towards the staircase that curves with the wall and upwards.

Yoongi’s office veers just off the VIP lounge, set behind large mahogany doors. And Hoseok doesn’t bother knocking. The room looks pretty much the same as it’s always had: dark walls with darker patterns, a maroon carpet lining the floor, abstract paintings hanging on the walls that allude to a darker nature, and in the far corner on the wall between two paintings is a golden blade dagger behind a mounted glass case.

“...Pick your side, kid. It’s either you’re with me, or against me.” Yoongi’s voice is cold, not angry per se, but reeking in annoyance that chills rather than burns. “And trust me when I say that you don’t want me as your enemy. I don’t play nice.”

There’s a young man standing in front of Yoongi’s large desk, his hands behind his back where one hand squeezes the other in bouts of nervous jitter. There are bruises on his knuckles, and even from behind, Hoseok could tell that he’s trying to fit into a crowd that doesn’t suit him. Haegeum isn’t just a club but a base of operations so to speak, in the middle of this high-end city, its easy for Yoongi to wrack up a certain clientele. People who seek a different ease of mind and has a different lifestyle.

Hoseok leans against the door, watching the scene play out, as the young man bows slightly and Yoongi waves his hand at him.

“Keep shadowing Seonghwa and Hongjoong for the week, and I don’t want any trouble this time.” He says dismissively, and the boy turns to leave. As Hoseok catches his eye, something akin to a bolt of lightening shoots down his spine. It isn’t noticeable to the more ordinary folk, but Hoseok isn’t ordinary, and neither are Yoongi and the rest of his boys. 

The air crackles with static, raw, untrained power that itches Hoseok the wrong way. The boy stands there clearly a moment too long, and Yoongi’s knuckles raps against the table top. “Yeonjun.”

Yeonjun gives a soft apology, and quickly walks towards the door. Hoseok opens it for him, not out of kindness, but purely to give him a long unbroken stare. He smiles as the boy struggles to hold his gaze, even as the hair on the back of his neck stands on end at his proximity.

When he shuts the door behind him, Yoongi is already watching him with a raised brow. Hoseok wanders over to the leather armchair at the front of Yoongi’s desk and sits, shifting around until he’s comfortable in it. “I thought they were a myth.”

“Obviously they’re not.” Yoongi mutters, shaking his head as he sieves through a stack of papers scattered on his desk before he finds what he’s looking for. “Kid wanted in, so I let him. More trouble than it’s worth, honestly. But, the Nephilim are stronger than the order, so I gave it a shot.”

Hoseok hums, and Yoongi seems to catch himself, narrowing his eyes at him. The scar that runs through his right eye looks pink and irritated in the motion and the overhead lights. “What are you doing here?”

“What? I can’t visit?”

If Yoongi narrows his eyes any more, he’d close them, “I think you know better than anyone that you’re never here.” He says, “You’re absent more often than not, so I have the right to ask. Did you do something? I’m not cleaning up any more of your messes.”

Yoongi pushes back his chair, walking across the room to the mini bar he has tucked in the corner. He pulls a glass from the cabinet and pours himself a glass of whisky from a long necked crystalline bottle. He takes a sip and turns leaning against the bar’s edge. “Last time was enough trouble.”

“You’d clean it up anyways.” Hoseok says, leaning his head back against the chair, tilting his head to look at Yoongi. “I found something fun to do.”

Yoongi stares at him for a moment, quiet, contemplative, “Causing a different type of trouble, I see.” He chuckles, “Don’t break her.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” Hoseok smirks, and then frowns a little. With all Yoongi’s prowess and danger, he’s gone a little soft around the edges, and he could see that softness in his eyes as he looks off into the distance. Surely thinking about the mortal girl that has him wrapped around her little fingers like bubble gum.

“You’ll learn.” Yoongi says cryptically, and it reminds Hoseok that he’s never really sure what Yoongi is thinking. Sometimes he’s an open book and Hoseok could read him like one, easy to figure out in the way that he moves, and sometimes he’s sealed tight.

Yoongi drains his glass of whisky, setting it down with a clink on the bar top before walking back over to his desk. “Since you’re here...” He opens a drawer and pulls out a thick black file, “Give this to Seonghwa.”

Hoseok takes the file and opens it, reading over the contents. There’s a man on Yoongi’s black list that’s due a checking in. “You let him and Joong have all the fun.”

“You’re too messy.” Yoongi retorts, “I said I’m not cleaning up after you.”

Hoseok shrugs, and gets up, skirting around the back of the chair and walking towards the door.

“Hobi.” Yoongi calls, “I don’t have to remind you that there’s a meeting at the end of the month, right?”

“I’ll be here.” Hoseok says, as the look in Yoongi’s eyes gave no room to say anything else.

He leaves the office, closing the door behind him with a quiet click and lets the tension roll off his shoulders. He goes back the way he came, black file in hand, towards the VIP section where he knows Seonghwa would be lurking. He walks down the little walkway, through the identical couches and tables on raised platforms that overlook the main floor of the club.

At the end, there’s a small section of booths, black velvet and low lit, and standing with his back to him is Hongjoong. He seems to be busy, twin pistols in pieces on the booth’s table, cleaning supplies set up neatly in a little row. Hoseok saunters over, and throws his arm over the man’s shoulders.

Hongjoong doesn’t spare him a glance but sighs softly through his nose. “I’m busy, Hoseok.”

“Where’s your shadow?” Hoseok asks, and waves the file at him, “Yoongi has work for you two.”

“When doesn’t Yoongi have work for us.” Hongjoong slides away from under Hoseok’s arm, sitting down in the booth to avoid him all together. There’s a dull glint of light as the fixtures catch on the gold diamond studded crucifix that swings against the white of Hongjoong’s tee-shirt.

Hoseok clicks his tongue against his teeth, “Don’t let him hear you say that.”

The dark bangs of his hair, which are usually styled away from his forehead, falls into his eyes when he glances upward at Hoseok. He picks up the cleaning solvent and pours a bit of it into the cap before dropping a cotton patch in to let it soak, then, he wraps the patch around the bristles of a small bore brush.

“Seonghwa isn’t here, he’s out back.” Hongjoong picks up the dismantled gun barrel, sliding the bore brush through until the now dirty cotton patch pokes out from the other end. The scent of the solvent burns Hoseok’s nose, and he leaves Hongjoong be, going back down to the main floor and through the emergency exit. The exit sits in the middle of an alleyway that connects two streets, and Hoseok catches sight of Seonghwa’s faux fur coat on one end.

Smoke curls away from his form with a light wind and brings the scent of a cigarette as Hoseok walks with quiet steps towards him. He’s laughing at something, phone in hand, and Hoseok drops his hand heavily on his shoulder and feels the way he immediately tenses.

“I’ve told you one too many times, Seonghwa.” Hoseok says, stepping to the side and around him, “Always be on your guard.”

There’s a glint in the way that he sneers, pulling away from Hoseok’s grip. He takes a couple steps back, watching Hoseok as though he spat at his feet.

“Aw, don’t look at me like that. Makes me all tingly.” Hoseok teases mockingly with a smile, and then offers the file to him. “Here.”

Seonghwa shoves his phone into the pocket of his coat, taking the file and looking through it. He takes one last drag of the cigarette between his fingers before tossing it. He raises a perfect brow at Hoseok and tilts his head, something like amusement in his eyes. “You don’t show up for weeks, and now you’re just Yoongi’s errand boy.”

Hoseok chuckles and it’s dark, low in his throat. “Seonghwa.” He takes a step closer, “Don’t forget your place.”

It’s irritating how Seonghwa doesn’t back down, the way he looks at Hoseok as though he’s beneath him. He stands tall and proud with his chest puffed out like a peacock, and Hoseok knows he’s about to say something stupid without using that brain of his first.

“Don’t act like we’re not in the same boat.” Seonghwa scoffs, and even before he opens his mouth, Hoseok could see the thought in his eyes, glowing like an ember in the dark. He sees the minute curl at the corner of his mouth and the glow of the street light that catches on the pretty studded silver of his teeth. “You got your ward killed, and killed the man that killed her. There’s no hierarchy among murderers.”

Hoseok takes a breath, and he feels the heat rising from the tips of his toes. Somewhere in the back of his mind, the images he’s locked away floods out of the steel box he’s put them in. The little girl he’d been guardian to, her short, miserable and painful life. Found end at the hands of someone she had the misfortune of being born to. It was too late – he was too late, when he’d found her. And just like then, Hoseok sees red.

Warm, gushing red that spill into the creases of his fingers when he swings his fist at Seonghwa’s face. The black file and the papers within scatter on the wind.

Hoseok doesn’t let the surprise and force send the younger man stumbling back too far, and grabs hold of the front of his coat, curling his fingers into the material tightly. He kicks at his knee, and when he’s forced to kneel, Hoseok leans down to his height.

“You talk a lot of shit for someone who lost his wings for something so trivial; your sin and mine are two different things.” Hoseok sneers, and he’s so mad he could set Seonghwa on fire and watch him dance. “But I can remind you exactly why Yoongi doesn’t bother to have me involved.”

Someone pulls Seonghwa back, dragging him up to his feet. “The fuck are you two doing?”

There’s a tick in Seonghwa’s jaw that doesn’t go unnoticed and his eyes stay locked with Hoseok as he straightens. He should think twice, Hoseok knows he knows better.

Hongjoong shoves at Seonghwa’s shoulder, “Go pick that shit up.”

Yeonjun stands at the open doorway of the emergency exit, watching with wide eyes, looking like he’s halfway to backing out on his choice to get into Yoongi’s ranks. Hongjoong eyes Hoseok warily, glancing over his shoulder to make sure that Seonghwa was doing as told.

Hoseok’s gaze burns a hole into the back of Seonghwa’s head as he moves around to pick up the scattered papers while Hongjoong stands like a watchdog.

Hoseok shoves his hands into the pockets of his black coat, tilting his head back to stare at the sky. “You boys be good, now.” He says in parting, turning on his heel and walking out of the alley.

“What the fuck did you say to him?...”

Hoseok walks up the street, through the throngs of people still waiting to get into Haegeum. His phone vibrates in his coat pocket, with a sigh he pulls it out and answers.

“Yes, Cheol?”

“Hey, remember when you asked me to tell you when I’ve seen that weird fog?” Seungcheol sounds distracted, there’s a sharp sound from his end that has Hoseok pulling the phone away from his ear with a wince. He says something to someone else, voice too far away for Hoseok to catch, before he speaks again. “Couple of nights ago, it was in my area. Whatever’s in it is pretty good at hiding. It’s not the only thing in it either.”

Hoseok crosses the street, going in the opposite direction of which he came from. The people that line the sidewalk give him a wide berth as he weaves through them; unconsciously reacting to him being near.

“Didn’t see much of the guy, some twinky-looking redhead.” Cheol sighs, “I think the fog is like a domain. If you get lost in it, it’s like there’s no-one in there but you. Like a mirror realm.”

‘They who fight monsters should be careful, lest they become a monster themselves.  And if you gaze long enough into the abyss, the abyss will gaze back into you.’

What defines a monster? Something that goes beyond human comprehension, something that stands outside the bounds of what is morally accepted. Something that a person fails to understand and is therefore scared by. Something that make stories entertaining because they’re meant to be defeated in the end. They’re meant to be slain and mounted like trophies, pinned up for grotesque display of heroism.

What defines a creature that goes beyond human comprehension? White coloured morals and the freedom to help in the way it needed. He stopped being what he was created to be, and instead became something that someone needed the most. He did everything right. He had his head in the right place, he was determined to see it through to the end.

He was a little too late.

Over the years, Hoseok could no longer recall just how late he was. If it was by seconds or minutes, or an hour by a half. When he was finally strong enough to move, he traced the memory of a place he’d seen for years, all the way to a house where his charge waited inside.

She was always afraid. Alone, trapped with a monster of man’s making. A child he’s watched since the moment of her birth, watched her grow to be afraid and the light never reach her. By the laws of his nature he was forced to do nothing.

He was restricted to assisting in the only way he could. He couldn’t shield her physically, so he instead manipulated the monster in her closet. He made sure that his mind was changed, that he didn’t swing his claws as fiercely, that he slept deeply so that the child can have a night of rest.

He started to question, as he watched the monster that called himself a father, prey upon what he was meant to protect.

What’s the point? Is he not allowed to stop this? Why can’t he stop this? He could stop it because he has the power to do so.

The ideology was shared by another, and together, hubris.

Hoseok fell with pride; he fell with the intention to seek his ward out and help her. Even if he had no idea what was to come afterwards. Stripped of his grace and the feathers of his wings burned away, it didn’t matter to him.

He went as quickly as his wounds allowed, which in retrospect, wasn’t quickly enough. She was only six. An awfully short time to the likes of him, even shorter to mortals, not enough time to live and laugh – she wasn’t allowed to even do that. He’d stood there, in the broken doorway of a broken home and watched as the monster of his ward’s nightmare became a man before him. Hoseok’s vision had tunnelled and in the centre was the broken body of the child he’d sworn to protect.

When the shadows on the walls grew tall and Hoseok’s mind closed in on itself and allowed those shadows to encase him, the man cried. He pleaded on his knees at the sight of his reckoning, begged for mercy when he gave none.

Then, Hoseok shattered. Scattered like tiny specs of dust floating on the wind, and under the heat and pressure of his own realisations, he turned into glass. With his sharp edges he cut into the man and reveled in it. The sounds of his pleas like the gentle strum of a harp’s string, and the warmth of his blood was a bath Hoseok sunk into.

What he was, was something that was no longer needed, and with his hands covered in blood and gore and mess he held tight to his reasons for being and cried for her. He became something else that only protected himself. While he locked everything away and allowed the shadows to stay. The light he’s trapped struggles to glow, to breathe, and some days Hoseok wants to snuff it out for good, to become the shadows he plays in.

He wouldn’t allow himself to reach that point, though. He still has a sense of himself, however skewed.

He owes Yoongi a lot, his partner in crime that he would follow to the ends of the earth. He never turned his back on him even as Hoseok changed to suit his troubles.

Hoseok remembers Yoongi standing at the doorway, catching up much later than he had. He stayed there quietly while Hoseok mourned the death of his ward and his tears made tracks in the blood that coated him.

Hoseok buried her away from her cursed home, far away and as deep as the roots of an old oak runs and salt floats on the air. Wild flowers bloom there, giving her the beauty in death she wasn’t allowed in life.

His chest aches as he stands there now. Under the shade of the oak tree where little speckles of the setting orange sun spills through leaves and dances along the space that he occupies. There’s a crinkle of plastic and Hoseok stares at the small bouquet in his grip. He chose every flower that reminded him of her: daises and lavender, lilies and snapdragons.

He lays it gently on the patch of grass that’s long grown over between two large protruding roots, mutters the same apology he does every time he comes by, and stuffs his hands into the pockets of his coat as he straightens.

He’s sorry he wasn’t there in time.

He wished she was given a chance, and wondered if her death was his punishment. He wonders what it would’ve been like to watch her grow, safe and happy. What her favourite flower would’ve been, if she would’ve valued the little things. He would’ve given her everything – pulled the moon from the sky if she so desired it. He would’ve taken the stars and put them in her little hands for her to watch them shine.

He wonders if it would’ve been better had he waited a little longer. That maybe the slightest change would’ve brought about a different outcome.

Hoseok sighs, turns his head to watch the sun set, dragged behind the ocean’s edge far off in the distance. Something at the back of his mind wiggles and tugs. He knows something’s wrong and he’s in no mood to deal with it.

You’re dying...you think. Your hand slides against the floor and it takes a moment to realise it’s your blood you’re slipping in. You can barely feel the rest of your body, adrenaline pumping your blood out of the wounds at your back. The doors of the elevator doubles and swarms in your vision.

You see them open but it’s so hard to focus. Hoseok steps out and walks slowly to you, you can’t see his expression, but you faintly hear the long, drawn-out sigh he releases. Your eyes focus on the darkness that surrounds him, the way it curls like smoke. The shadows at his back are clearer to you than they’ve ever been – wings. Dark plumage that glitters with something silver in the light, the feathers are long, long enough that they drag behind his steps. If he were to unfold them they would easily span to the ends of the hallway.

He hardly gives you a glance, stopping in front of you. You can’t see the creature now – blocked by Hoseok’s wings – but you hear it growl, and the scraping of it’s claws against the floor. Something glints in his hand against the flickering lights, a short sword that looks like it was dipped in gold from the hilt and it ran down the edges of the blade.

He’s a blur as he moves and your tired eyes can barely keep up with him, if it weren’t for the small space and shadows his wings casted you would’ve lost sight of him completely. 

The creature snarls and lashes out with its razor-sharp claws, but Hoseok is already one step ahead, dodging with effortless grace. He moves with a speed and agility that seems impossible in the space he occupies, closing in on the creature that growls and snarls at him. It’s forced to dislodge itself from the doorway, pulling back into the stairwell that gives it even less room to defend.

Hoseok’s wings fold tightly to his back as he follows, and you could only hear the sound of his weapon sliding through the air, the sound of the blade whistling and the increasingly irritated sounds from the creature. Hoseok ducks under a swiped claw, makes a spin on his knee, and switches the hands that holds his blade. It slices through the creature’s gigantic paw like it’s made of something soft, and through the other as it comes back down. The severed limb drops heavily on the ground before it dissolves into ashes and float upward.

The sound it makes grate on your ears, loud and sharp and you can’t bring your hands up to cover them, something warm trickles out of each.

Without it’s two front legs to support it’s weight, the creature drops forward, and Hoseok grabs hold of the first spike at the top of its head. With a flick of his wrist his weapon spins in his palm and he points the blade right between the creature’s eyes and pushes.

Golden light flashes, nearly blinding you on top of everything else, you can just barely hear the cry it makes this time as it writhes in agony. It’s monstrous form twists and contorts before finally collapsing to the ground in a heap.

Hoseok stands over the fallen beast, his weapon clenched tightly in his hand, watching intently as it’s body dissipates like ash from a fire.

With a satisfied nod, Hoseok sheaths his weapon and it vanishes, and then turns his attention back to you, his expression a mixture of something. You can’t tell, everything seems so dark and it’s hard to breathe. He approaches you slowly, his movements cautious as he assesses the extent of your injuries.

Hoseok crouches and you slowly look up at him, he tilts his head and clicks his tongue against his teeth.

“I told you not to go anywhere, little dove.” He says softly, calmly, as though he’s telling you about his day and you’re not bleeding out in his hallway. “You’re so troublesome.”

You try to respond, but the words stick in your throat, drowned out by the rush of blood and the overwhelming sense of impending darkness. Hoseok’s presence feels both comforting and ominous, his wings casting elongated shadows that dance across the walls. You try to focus on his face, to find some semblance of reassurance in his eyes, but all you see is a blur of shadows and flickering light.

“I’m sorry,” you manage to choke out, your voice barely audible above the sound of your own laboured breathing.

Hoseok’s expression softens slightly, a hint of concern flickering in his eyes. He reaches out a hand to gently brush the hair from your forehead, his touch surprisingly gentle despite the underlying tension in the air.

“Jesus...” Another voice says, the sound of footsteps hurrying close and the last thing you see is the shift of the hallway.

The night he found you out in the fog wasn’t the first time Hoseok had seen you.

By now, it would’ve been at least three months ago. You were alone, pacing around like a worried mother on a bridge over your perceived peace – had you decided to take it.

Human lives were no longer any concern to him; no consequence. He and his kind were here before and would be long after your kind has crumbled to dust and returned to the earth. He stopped then, and watched you contemplate the height of the bridge and the chill of the water below it; whether or not you’ll receive the mercy you seek. You’d cried for a long time on that bridge.

Hoseok is many things, but cruel is not one of them. He changed your mind and sent you away into the arms of someone that would care.

Hoseok has many contradictions. The darkness that he allowed entry fights the light, beating it into a corner where it cowers on most days. On those days he’s distant and struggling to contain it, he could taste malice on his tongue and the bitterness of it. The steel walls he painstakingly built with bloody and broken fingers are nothing more than barbwire fences; they do nothing to protect the glass figurines that make him whole.

Sometimes the glass are shards, sharp and unforgiving and willing to cut anything that gets too close. Sometimes they’re splintered panes and Hoseok is cutting his fingers to keep them in place. He curls in on himself, draws himself away, pushes everything outside his barbwire fence and tries to reinforce the walls. The darkness that swirls outside it seeps in and he can’t keep it out so he lets it fester and churn and he becomes intangible.

You weren’t there, and then, at some point, you were.

Sometimes...

Sometimes he’s standing in a grass field full of wild daises and the sun is warm and there’s salt in the air. The light peeks through the leaves of an old oak tree, and there’s a little girl who’s placed her life in his hands, who skitters about in the  grass like something wild and free. She glows in her happiness, and nature stains her hands and the bottom of her white dress. She makes faces at him behind the trunk of the tree, smiles and hold his hands and tell him that it’s okay. It wasn’t his fault and he’s forgiven, he could let it go and be.

On those days, Hoseok feels like a still pool of water. The ones with lily pads and life, and everything’s alright. You’re always there then.

Hoseok knows of the fragility of humans. How easily they could shatter and break and suddenly be no more. He was something once, and then he became something else, and sometimes it’s hard to not be what he is. His darker nature prevails, and he doesn’t do much to stop it. Sure, sometimes he’s done things simply because he’s feeling particularly malicious and thinks that everyone should suffer – it’s almost always harmless.

He has a sense of himself, he knows when to stop, when things are taken too far and you can’t take much more of it. You eventually learnt to take it in stride and Hoseok was proud of that, though, a part of him thought it wasn’t nearly as fun anymore.

He would walk your dreams some nights when he was bored and had nothing better to entertain himself, his presence would sometimes bring his darkness and your dreams would not be as pleasant. He tried to walk through them less often.

When you were jumping at every little sound, the silence that Hoseok moves with and the way you’re less of yourself some days – he realised something. Not every nightmare was his doing, and the whispers in the walls of your dreams spoke of something else entirely.

The far, fuzzy edges of your vivid dreams where he’s reminded of things he’s tried very hard to lock away, lurks something red and more sinister than he.

He’s every reason to believe that hellspawn didn’t find it’s way here on accident, and for it to go undetected until the very last moment. It bothers him like nothing else has.

Though you lay peaceful now and Seungcheol had left after doing what he does best, the unease lingers in bouts under Hoseok’s skin, skittering about like electricity on a wire. His feelings where you’re concerned contradicts each other. Like oil on water he’s stuck in between wanting you close and keeping you at arm’s length. He likes when you’re near, but he likes when you’re far. A consequence of his nature, he toes the line of something sinister and could get dangerous and down right evil if he doesn’t reign himself in.

At a point he wasn’t quite sure what to do with you. He was just as confused on why he stopped you from ending your own life that night on the bridge and why he took you in that night in the fog. At first, he was just as wary of you as you were of him, despite the way he acted. He can’t help what he is.

On the days where he feels like splintered glass and he’s choking on his despair, you’d waited. You were there until the smoke cleared and your quiet presence helped put the glass back up and straighten out the posts in his fence.

He told Yoongi, there’s no fun in not breaking you. Yoongi said that he’d learn.

He can’t help what he is.

He could try, though.

He doesn’t want to break you, it’s a matter of cause and effect. You’re here with him, evidently, you’d be broken regardless. The most he could do is try. He could try to not be the straw, and try to not let outside forces become it.

He cares. He cares so much that sometimes he could taste it on his tongue. He cares that you smile when he’s earned it, that you eat well, that you greet him like a friend and then somewhere along get shy when you do. He cares if you live or die.

Hoseok squeezes his eyes shut, opening them to blink away the image of you, helplessly laying in a pool of your own blood.

Fear. He’s has only felt it once, the fear that you would die and he would’ve failed again to protect someone.

He sips slowly at his glass of whisky, drinking in the sight of you. He thought you were smart enough to listen to him at least, trusted that you would stay out until he got back. Perhaps it was his mistake, but he wonders, and he ponders as you give a minute twitch in your sleep. Your eyebrows draw together and you murmur something unintelligible.

Hoseok sets his tumbler on your bedside drawer and pulls his chair closer. This is something he could easily do from another room, though, for what he’s about to do he would need to be touching you in some capacity.

Your dream had started off vividly, as most of your dreams have since you came here. Hoseok stands just in the corner of it, watching you wake within your dream and put your feet down into water.

He walks along the edge of it, watching it play out like a simulation, following behind you as you make your way down the hall towards the living room. He’s there and Hoseok isn’t surprised – it’s not the first time you’ve dreamt him.

He watches as your dreamscape version of him pull you into his lap and he feels a little offended and rolls his eyes – he didn’t even try to make it look sexy. Is this what you think of him? He isn’t half as tactless. Seduction takes finesse, and you clearly have no idea what that is.

Hoseok turns, gazing at the darkened edges of your dream.

There’s a shift and he feels it. It’s heavy like a wet blanket and seeps in like mist, and your dream changes accordingly.

He knows this feeling too well – the intrusion of an external force manipulating the dream, it’s faint enough that he knows it wasn’t in his apartment or anywhere nearby, but strong enough to reach so far.

Hoseok hovers hesitantly between the doorway of the living room and the hallway, and closes his eyes against the image of him hurting you.

He follows you as you follow blood, and he wishes you weren’t so frightened. He stays close to you, stepping where you’ve stepped as though he could protect you from something that’s already occurred. You push the door to your bedroom open and he wants to stop you, turn you around and shake you awake, but he can only watch.

You’re there and he is too, whispers skittering along the walls like mice, and Hoseok yanks himself out of your subconscious mind.

He feels like glass.

When you wake it’s dark and your back is sore like you fell from a high place and splatted against a body of water. The moment feels like déjà vu regardless as you swing your legs over the side of the bed with a wince.

The broken projector of your sleep-addled mind flickers in black and white cut scene imagines of the evening. Hoseok, the fog, the dog that crawled out of hell specifically for you – as you can only assume – things considered, you’re pretty certain you died at some point.

The dark unnerves you, it makes you feel like a kid as you pull your feet back up onto the bed, and pull the blanket up over your head and pulled tight between your fingers at your chest.

You scoot back, wiggling a bit until your back is pressed flush against the headboard. There’s no light seeping in from under your door, and you sink lower, curling into yourself and hold the blanket tighter.

There’s a prickling at the back of your neck that sends a shiver racing down your spine. Your head turns slowly to the left and notice the unnatural darkness of the space between the edge of the wall and the window pane. Relief blooms in your chest at the sight of it.

“...Hoseok.” You call softly, waving a hand into the dark. You wait for a moment, but the lights don’t come on and he doesn’t appear as he usually would.

Carefully, you unwrap the covers from around you and place your foot on the ground. Taking a moment, you count your fingers – it’s always hard to count them in your dreams. All ten are there, and you take a breath before standing.

The floor is cold, and you notice the carpet that’s usually under your feet is missing, and the silhouettes of the things you’ve made yours are different; this isn’t your room.

You approach the ball of chaos carefully, and stand five steps away from the space it occupies. This is the second time you’ve been close to it, the first time had been much closer and you hadn’t understood it then. You reach a hand out, and gently: “Hoseok...”

It slows, the shadows and wisps shifting gently like a leaf on a soft wind. It elongates into a vague outline and then, Hoseok stares through you before he sees you. He’s still wearing the clothes he left in earlier, coat and all, looking a little more than rattled even in the dark.

He raises a hand and it hovers by your cheek, thumb ghosting the skin like he’s afraid you’ll disappear. The lights didn’t come back on and it’s hard to decipher his emotions in the dark.

“Are you okay?” he asks, his voice soft, barely a whisper in the darkness. Somewhere behind you, a lamp flickers on dimly and Hoseok looks like he’d shatter if you touched him.

“I’m okay.”

Hoseok’s hand drops slowly from your face as he blinks, as though waking from a dream. His gaze focuses on you, but there’s a vacancy in his eyes. For a moment, he seems almost confused, as if he’s not sure how he ended up here or what to make of your presence.

His touch is light, gentle, like he’s handling something fragile when his fingers brushes yours. You feel his fear, a palpable thing, thick and heavy. It’s a side of him you’ve never seen before, and you’re not sure what to do with it.

He exhales softly through his nose, nods once and then his eyes are somewhere above your head. “Are you in pain?”

“No,” Your back sings a low hymn, achy and sore, but it’s nothing to fuss over. “I’m okay.”

There’s a lot of things you want to ask, but you can’t seem to pick one. You want to ask him about the fog and the creature, about his wings or how you’re even alive to mull over said questions.

Instead, you ask: “Are you okay?”

Hoseok looks unprepared for that, his eyes snapping back to yours and he flounders. His mouth opens and closes before he stares at you in that unnerving way he had your first couple of days here, like he’s trying to understand you. Like he could strip you down to atoms and see what makes you act the way you do and therefore comprehend the bases of your human nature.

“I’m...” He blinks, looks away, and a muscle beneath his right eye twitches, “I’m okay.”

He doesn’t sound convinced and you aren’t either, and where his hand brushes yours you reach out first. His fingers are cold and he looks down, staring at your hand like it’s something foreign, but his grip tightens. It’s quiet for a moment, he takes a breath that doesn’t seem to ease the weight he carries.

“You almost died.” He says quietly, brows furrowed as though he can’t understand his own concern. “When I brought you here...I did so with the intention to keep you safe.”

It’s quiet again and you wait, and wait.

Hoseok’s eyes mist, his breath shudders on the exhale. “I wasn’t here in time. Again. I—”

His hand in yours tremble, he’s looking through you again, not entirely here and he looks like a man haunted by ghosts he alone could see. You stumble a step back when he falls to his knees before you, but didn’t get far as his arms wound tight around your waist. There’s something strange about a creature such as him with all his prowess and tainted grace kneeling at your feet, and his words tumble from his mouth like his tears that soak into your borrowed shirt and he lets you hold the chain that drags behind him.

The weight is heavy, heavy enough that it grounds you and you listen to it rattle as Hoseok tells you everything. In a broken tone about a broken home and a child he couldn’t reach in time to save, about the shadows that he let hide the light and now he struggles to find it. The things he’s done since that would make the most wicked men cower.

You make the connection, as he lays himself bare before you. He peeled back the layers of his being himself and let you look inside; the bases of his nature, the connotations of his own sins. It makes sense to you now. The way he would change like the tide and his near obsessive, compulsive need to wrap you in bubble wrap and put you in a glass case. He’d long stopped scaring you and somehow became a comfort despite himself.

Maybe it’s circumstantial, or something else entirely, but you’ve grown to care for him and he’s been caring for you from the start. However skewed that was.

When he’s stopped his babbling, and he’s no longer crying, he still holds you tight, whispering apologies against the dampness of your shirt. You meet his height, gently pulling his arms away from you and you kneel, too. He blinks away the last of his tears and you catch them with your thumbs just under his red-rimmed eyes.

He’s no longer looking through you, one of his hands covers yours, his lips brushing delicately against your wrist when he turns his head; your heart flutters. He whispers something you didn’t catch, he closes his eyes for a moment and when he opens them, he repeats: “You can leave if you want.”

“I don’t have anywhere to go.”

“Will you stay, then?” He looks away when he asks, pressing his fingers against your palm in a way that tickles and distracts, and studies the lines of them quietly. “Stay here with me.”

There’s something like hope in his eyes that glints against the shadows that linger, shining like flecks gold in cracked rock. You nod slowly and he smiles easily, all teeth and heart shaped and his hand is warm when he cups your cheek with the one that isn’t holding yours.

“Your dream...” He says softly, and later you’d find that it troubled him the most; he would never do something like that – not to you. “I’m sorry.”

You store the fact that he knows about it at the back of your mind for later – later when he’s not pressing the pad of his thumb against the fullness of your bottom lip, tracing the shape of it. You’ve learnt to ebb and flow with him, a boat on his tide, taking the shift of his mood in stride.

There’s something in his eyes now that has nothing to do with how you found him earlier, something that makes you follow his lead, leaning in when he pulls you towards him. Deja vu accompanies the way he shifts, easing back and turning you as he does, leaning against a dresser you hadn’t noticed. He keeps his eyes locked with yours, directing your leg over his with a hand, and he settles you on his lap.

“This feels familiar.” He giggles, lifting his head to nose along your jaw and you’re reminded that he knows. Heat flares at the back of your neck and races up your ears, and when you push against his shoulders, he steadies and keeps you still with his hands on the top of your thighs and a click of his tongue against his teeth.

“I’m teasing.” He gives a crooked smile, tilting his head, “It’s cute that you think it’ll play out that way.”

“Isn’t it, though?” You blurt out, embarrassment forgotten. Honestly, the only thing that’s changed is the room, and when Hoseok pauses you smirk.

He smirks right back, something dangerous, and he chuckles, “Keep talking back. I like that.”

His hand slides up your back, and you don’t suppress the shiver that follows after it. The air grows heavy, charged with unspoken tension. You’re vaguely aware of your heart pounding, the rhythm matching the erratic thrum of your blood. He leaves a kiss where your jaw meets your neck, sucking lightly on the spot.

“Hoseok...” You start to say his name, but it comes out as a breathless whisper. You’re not sure what you intended to say, but the words get caught in your throat.

He pulls back slightly, his eyes searching yours. “What is it?” he asks, his voice rough with desire and darker still. “Do you want me to stop?”

You shake your head, unable to form words.

With a low growl, he takes your silence as an invitation, his fingers tangle in your hair, and he tilts your head down, his lips meeting yours in a kiss you gasp into. It quickly deepens, becoming more urgent, as if he’s trying to devour your very soul. His other hand finds your hip, squeezing possessively.

You’re lost in the sensation, the taste of him, the feel of his body pressed against yours. The world has narrowed to the two of you, to this moment.

A soft moan escapes your lips, and he takes that as a cue, his tongue exploring your mouth with a hunger that sets your entire being ablaze.

His touch ignites a fire within you, consuming your senses and leaving you breathless, his hand sliding from your hip to your lower back, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between you.

He pulls away slowly and you chase, he smirks against your kiss, and when he lifts his hips you feel the press of his arousal. His kisses trail, ghosting along your jaw, his tongue warm where your pulse thrums. He directs the shifts of your hips, grinding you down against clothed erection with a curse growled against your skin.

You follow the light tug of his hand in your hair, tilting your head back and to the side to give him more room to work. He hums appreciatively around your skin between his teeth and you hiss softly at the sting of the pull.

“So good for me.” He whispers when he pulls away. His fingers tap at your hip before he wraps his arm around, bracing the other against the dresser behind and stands easily.

A startled squeak leaves you, wrapping your arms around his neck even though he’s holding you steady. He reaches the bed in two strides, and drops you there, a smirk at the corner of his mouth.

You bounce a bit amongst the soft sheets with a soft giggle before you settle. His index finger curls beneath your chin and tilts, thumb brushing along your bottom lip again, “Ah.”

You comply easily, and then his thumb is pressing against your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth and he hums when you wrap your lips around the digit. There’s a tick of his brow and the dull glint of his teeth when he smiles in the dim light of the singular lamp, and a darkness in his eyes that doesn’t scare you.

He tests the boundaries of what you’d allow, sliding his thumb along your tongue. His palm lays flat against your cheek, thumb reaching far until you feel the lurch of your stomach and pull back with a gasp.

He coos softly, leaning down just as he slips his finger out of your mouth to capture your lips in a kiss that’s more teeth and tongue than anything else. He nudges you back softly, large hands sneaking their way under your tee to reach your skin, desperate in a way that makes you think he’d die if he doesn’t.

He stops just shy of the undersides of your breasts, pulling away from the kiss to rest his forehead against yours. His breaths are shallow, he whispers your name, “I can get intense.”

“I know.”

“I could hurt you.”

“I know.”

He studies you for a moment, then, tugs gently on the hem of your tee-shirt, “Up.”

As you shift to sit, you’re not surprised to find you aren’t wearing anything underneath the tee-shirt and cotton shorts he’s put you in; dressing you properly must’ve been the last thing on his mind.

Hoseok stands back to shed his coat, dropping it carelessly on the floor. There’s a metallic clink as the buckle of his belt jingles, and the sound of it racing through the loops of his pants.

You – oddly – don’t feel ashamed under his gaze that sets a heat wherever it settles as he roams over your exposed upper half. Putting your weight on your hands, you lean back, watching Hoseok roll the long sleeves of his tee-shirt up his forearms.

His tongue darts out to moisten his lips as he closes the distance again, climbing into the bed on his knees and coming up until they’re on either side of your thighs. Silently he trails a finger down the slope of your neck, it tickles across your collarbone and his fingers spread and palms your left breast.

Your breath hitches and he chuckles, and you know very well he could feel the shifting of your thighs as you rub them together seeking friction. It’s been ages since anyone’s touched you like this, all of Hoseok’s teasing isn’t doing you much good.

His lips meet yours, licking into your mouth, and he groans when you suck on his tongue. His fingers lightly pinch at your nipple, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. His other hand roams, goosebumps following it’s path down your side and stops where his fingers tease the band of your shorts.

Your hips buck as you whine and Hoseok pulls away, eyelids heavy, pupils all but gone, panting softly; looking drunk on you.

He smiles and makes a disapproving sound at the back of his throat. “Patience little dove.” He tuts, tilting his head at you, “I’ll give you what you need.”

He trails his fingers along the edges of your shorts before pulling them down and off, leaving you exposed to his touch. His hair tickles where it drags against your sensitive skin as he moves downward. He avoids where you need him most entirely and you squirm, a soft whine building in your chest.

He kisses and licks his way up your thighs, teasing you until you’re begging. Gently, he spreads your legs, kissing the inner thigh of your right before he rests it over his shoulder, pushing your other up and holding it there with a palm.

His dark gaze meets yours and you can’t hold it when he licks a hot stripe from your weeping entrance to your clit. Your hand shoots down to grip his hair, back arching when his responding growl vibrates against your core.

With each stroke of his tongue, Hoseok explores every inch of your most sensitive areas. He laps at your clit, drawing out a series of gasps and moans that fill the room. You’re shaking and swearing as he eats you out like a man starved, his tongue swirling around your clit in figure eights and then dipping into you. He moans like you’re the best thing he’s ever tasted.

Your hands curl into the sheets, fingers digging in as if to anchor yourself. You’re lost in the sensations, a whirlwind of pleasure that leaves you breathless. And you wonder, briefly, if this was just something he was good at or something he had to hone.

His arm draping over your hips was the only warning you got before his lips wraps around your clit and sucks. Your back arches with a pitched moan and he slips a finger into your heat, and groans when you clench and gasp his name.

Your heart pounds in your chest, each beat a reminder of your vulnerability. Yet, paradoxically, it’s this vulnerability that fuels your desire, pushing you to new heights. You’re a wild thing now, driven by pure, primal need.

From between your legs, Hoseok watches your reactions, a dark-haired god feasting on your pleasure. His gaze is intense, a silent promise that he’ll take you to the edge. He adds another finger and they curl against your g-spot and it brings about your undoing.

If your arousal was a fire, Hoseok just threw gasoline on it just to watch it explode. He keeps hips lips around your clit as it throbs, fingers dragging along your fluttering walls and your eyes squeeze shut. You could barely breathe, lights dancing behind your eyelids as you gasp his name.

“Good girl.” Hoseok praises, lips brushing your clit and your thighs tremble. He rubs his hand gently over your stomach while you come down, and evilly, bites your thigh with a dark chuckle.

“Hoseok...” you whine as he laves his tongue over the stinging spot.

“Hm?” He smiles, “Want more, little dove?”

You almost cry as he changes course, pulling away entirely, and makes it clear he revel in your suffering when he coos mockingly, standing now.

He slowly unbuttons his pants, slowly pulls his legs out of them one after the other, smirking at you all the while. Even in the dim lighting, you could see the strain his cock against his black boxer briefs and you don’t miss the near inaudible sigh of relief from Hoseok at the change in pressure.

He crooks a finger at you, and shuffles closer as you do. He stands at the edge of the bed, and he sinks his fingers into your hair, brushing it back as you look up at him. He looks down his nose at  you, and raises a brow, “Be a good girl now, dove. Or do I have to teach you?”

“I know how to suck cock you ass.”

Hoseok shrugs, a playful smile shifting his expression as he gently squeezes your cheeks, puckering your lips, “Is all that little mouth good for talking back to me?”

“You said you like that.” You say defiantly.

Hoseok hums, “Have your fun then,” He says, smiling, “Won’t be able to say much in a bit, anyway.” He tugs on your hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to signal his impatience.

Funny, he was preaching patience is a virtue a while ago.

You scoff softly, holding your weight with a hand and tugging his boxers down with the other. His cock springs out, long and thick enough that you wonder if it would fit anywhere. It’s flushed red at the tip and leaking pre that beads and dribbles down the underside, and maybe if you focus enough you could just about see the throb of the vein that runs along side. A breath hisses through Hoseok’s teeth when you wrap your fingers around him, his eyes shut and his head tilts back.

Your eyes meet his when you slowly drag your hand down the length of his shaft, teasing him like he did you; turnabout is fair play. His hold in your hair tightens just a bit, eyes narrowing.

“Dangerous game you’re trying to start.” He murmurs, “I don’t take well t – fuck.” He hisses, the word tapering off into a low groan as you wrap your lips around the head of his cock.

The slightly salty taste of him bursts against your tongue and you hum, twisting your wrist as you bring your hand back up to meet your mouth and follow it down again. The saliva that escapes from the corners of your mouth helps with the glide.

You take a breath through your nose and relax your jaw, taking him in until he hits the back of your throat and you gag. Hoseok’s thighs tense and a stuttered breath leaves him.

“Easy there.” He soothingly runs his fingers through your hair, though it does nothing for the involuntary tears springing at your waterline. You decide to play it safe, not taking more than you can handle. Hoseok doesn’t seem to mind, letting you set your own pace, whispering swears and your praises.

Heat pools in your gut as your head bobs back and forth, your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, swirling around the head every time you pull back.

Slick with spit, your hand strokes the rest of him, and his groans vibrate in your ears. His fingers tighten in your hair, and it’s the only time he directs; holding you still.

“Take a deep breath for me, dove.” You do as told, and as you inhale, Hoseok slowly pushes forward, his cock reaching the back of your throat in no time at all. He groans above you, cock throbbing against your tongue, “There you go.”

He holds you there for a moment, only easing you back when your throat tightens with the need for air. He lets you breathe for a bit before he’s going again, thrusting slowly, once, twice and then holding you still. He keeps you there, cock throbbing at the back of your throat, your nose pressed against the neatly trimmed hair at the base.

When you gag he pulls you back, barely letting you breathe before he’s leaning down to kiss you, catching the string of drool that hangs from your bottom lip with his tongue. He lets you catch your breath, stepping back to pull his tee-shirt over his head and your mouth goes dry at the full expanse of his lithe frame.

Sitting back on your heels, breath a little ragged, you admire the sculpted lines of his body. Every movement is fluid and graceful, his muscles shifting smoothly beneath his skin.

His chest is defined, the faintest sheen of sweat highlighting each ripple of muscle. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders, the way they flex as he moves. There’s a raw, primal energy about him, but it’s tempered by a quiet confidence.

Hoseok comes back to you quickly, cupping your cheek and kissing you fervently, moving with you as you shift back, cock smearing pre-cum along your inner thighs as he slots his narrow hips between them. He nibbles at your bottom lip, fingers sliding through your slick folds before the head of his cock nudges against your entrance.

For a quiet moment he stares then, kisses you tenderly as he breeches. It’s an easy glide, but it stings none the less, and you give an appreciative squeeze to his wrist when he goes slow. The stretch is bearable and soon the slight discomfort dissipates when he bottoms out and gives you a moment.

“Good?” he breathes out, hips pressed flush against yours. The same breath sucked back through his teeth when your walls tightens around him, his cock throbs in response and you keen. He grinds his hips down, pelvis pressing against your swollen clit and the sensation is almost too much and not nearly enough.

He’s close enough that you can run your tongue along his collarbone  and feel him shiver. Leave your own marks there with your teeth and revel in the growl that rumbles in his chest.

He hooks an arm at the back of your knee, pressing it against your chest as he raises and balances his weight. You’re spread open for him, his cock sinks deeper, rubbing against a spot that makes your eyes roll back. He gives shallow thrusts at first, pressing kisses and bruises wherever he could reach.

“Fuck.” Hoseok hisses between his teeth, hips still, palm against your cheek, and he watches you with something other than lust in his eyes. Something gentle as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. “Look at you, such a good girl. Taking everything I give you.”

His hips snap forward and you cry out, hands gripping the sheets between them at his sinful groan. He keeps a relentless pace, and you could feel him everywhere. His fingers on your skin, leaving you cold and hot at the same time, gripping your hips so tightly you fear they’ll bruise. It would simply add to the ones he’s already placed, scattered on your neck and chest like mismatched constellations in a dark sky.

He brings your hands up above your head, holding them there, together with his free one.

“You’re so good to me, Dove. And all mine, hm? Say it.” He grunts, “Say you belong to me, promise me that you’ll stay here with me.” He says this softly, tenderly, grinding his hips against yours in slow movements, tightening the coil in your stomach.

“I’m yours, I’m yours. I promise.” You babble, hips moving against his on their own accord. “I’ll stay. I promise. Please.”

Hoseok groans at your words, leaning down to capture your lips with his, tongue finding yours with ease. “That’s right. You’re mine. Fuck. All mine. Say it again.”

“I’m yours, Hoseok.”

He curses under his breath, straightening his form and brings his hands down to grip your hips tight, and sets a brutal pace. Head tilting back to reveal the marks you left on him, groaning before he looks back down at you, “Close? Hm? You’re squeezing so tight.” His words taunt, as did the smirk on his pretty pink lips, “Make a mess for me, Dove. Cum all over my cock. That’s it, good girl.”

White lights dance behind your tightly shut eyelids, a ringing in your ears. And Hoseok was fucking you through it, fast and hard, his praises a rumble in his chest. You lay there boneless, taking what he gave with a haze over your mind, a weak moan leaving your parted lips when his hand met your throat. Your heart spikes for another reason entirely, but he doesn’t squeeze. Fingers just there, barely any pressure, as he chased his own end, cock kissing your cervix with each trust, his other hand pressed against your lower stomach.

His thumb finds your clit and you jolt, catching his sinister smirk that curled his lips. “There’s no going back after this, baby. Fuck – you’re mine, understand?” You can feel him throbbing, feel the way his hips stutter on the draw back, he was close and you wanted nothing more than him marking you, claiming you in this way. When your eyes meet his, a shiver goes through you.

He comes undone with a low groan, hips flushed with your own, still thrusting through it, and you can see them with your own eyes, as he shudders and stills. His wings uncurl, dark feathers, darker than anything you’ve ever seen, dipped in silver, spreads out behind him and flutters. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your collarbone, gentle, barely there and you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin.

Your eyelids were heavy, and sleepily, you reach out to brush your fingers through the feathers that encased your forms. Hoseok stiffens before your fingers reach them, and chuckles, nipping softly at the flesh of your neck, “Go ahead, Dove.”

He relaxes, when your fingers touch, and you feel him shudder, groaning softly against your neck. They’re soft, your fingers disappearing in the inky blackness of them. With a final brush of his lips against your neck, Hoseok pulls back, his wings shimmering away like a mirage and your hand passes through air before lands limply at your side.

He squeezes your hip gently, mindful, and then he’s gone, walking out his room and into the hallway. The light that spills in helps you see a lot better than the dim lamp, and you notice that Hoseok’s bedroom looks much like the rest of his apartment; sleek and dark. There isn’t much to it either, the basics, more utilirian than a comfort space. You wonder if he uses it at all.

Hoseok comes back and gathers your boneless self into his arms. You rest your cheek against his collarbone, the sound of running water reaching your ears when he steps out into the hallway.

The tub is filling, steam rising from the bubbles that form at the top of the disturbed water. It smells like mint and some sort of fruit, and the temperature is just right when he steps into it and lowers you down. He positions you so that your back is against his chest and turns off the water when it’s high enough. You sense that he’s in his head again, not quite here even as he presses a soft kiss to the back of your neck.

“Feeling okay?” he asks suddenly, tracing a mindless pattern along your arm.

You hum softly, “Yeah. Sore, though.”

“I expected that.” Another kiss, apologetic, against your shoulder. “Also...” Hoseok pauses, “I finished inside you. I didn’t ask. I’m sorry.”

The realisation dawns on you too and you shift a little to look at him, “I don’t mind, but....is that a bad thing?”

There’s a strange half smile on his lips and he lifts a hand to tug softly on one tangled end of your hair, gently sifting his fingers through until he’s satisfied. “It can be, if it takes. But, I’ll get something for it tomorrow.”

You notice that the marks you left along his skin have begun to fade already, and you poke at them with a finger. He heals quickly, you figured. He chuckles softly, taking your hand to press kisses along your finger tips and then to your palm. Your finger brushes over the mole on his upper lip gently and watch him melt.

He studies you for a moment, the same way he did before he left earlier, though, it’s softer now. “Would you like to come with me?”

You brighten, perking up with a nod, “Is that okay?”

Hoseok hums, mischief in his eyes, “If you promise not to run off as soon as you step foot outside.”

You roll your eyes and turn around, and Hoseok pulls you back to him with an arm around your middle. “I have nowhere to go.”

“I know, I was only teasing.” He chuckles.

You’re both quiet for a while, and you simply relax, almost falling asleep against him as the warm water soothes your aching muscles. You aren’t aware that you did, and only wake when Hoseok was just done tucking fresh clean sheets up to your chin. You’re back in his room but you don’t mind, the thought of going back to your own unsettles you right now. You haven’t forgotten your nightmare, and it’s something you’d definitely have to unpack another day.

You wait until he’s crawled in behind you, the warmth of him encasing you gently. His form melds against your back like he belongs there, an arm slipping under your head and the other over your hip. “Hoseok?”

“Yes Dove?”

You worry at your bottom lip, fingers finding his under the covers and they squeeze your own encouragingly. “There’s a friend of mine...I was with her before I met you.”

“I can help her.” He murmurs, and he sounds...sleepy. Today was a lot for him as well, you suppose. “I can get her a job here.”

You shift, turning to face him, he tucks you to him when you settle, chin resting on top of your head. “How are you gonna do that?”

You hear the smirk when he answers, “Do you think everything I have magically appeared? I own the hotel.”

“Wha—”

“Shh.” Hoseok squeezes your hip, “Go to sleep.”

Sometime later you’ll realise that Hoseok needed you more than he would admit. When you learn his tells he would help put himself back together with you instead of trying to do it alone.

Sometime later he’d take you to see her. When the wind is cold and the old oak tree reaches it’s bare, spindly arms to the frosted sky. When the day marks yet another year and he lets you put the flowers between the roots. He looks like a shadow against the glittering white, and he tells you he’s okay.

He’d take you to meet his friends at a club on the high-end and you’d would realise that he’s soft only with you and the guy who reminds you of a cat. With the others he’s closed off and friendly in a way that seems a little odd.

You’d see Abigail often and would skirt around how you actually met Hoseok when she’d ask. Anyone would think you’re crazy if you told them.

You spend most of your time at home while Hoseok goes off doing god knows what when he’s not there. It’s something to do with his friends and you never ask.

Then he’s there and everything beyond him and you and the space you both occupy doesn’t matter. And it’s kind of easy to forget where it all started – it’d been so long since you’d wondered where you were going to get anything to help you get by.

He’s made of cracks and splintered glass but he let you sink into the spaces, filled the pieces with you and settled. There would always be cracks in the glass that he’s made of, and there would always be a post in his fence that he needs to hammered in to fix. Despite the unconventional way you’d both started, the abnormality of his existence, you’d be there.

[bold, can't tag]

Tagging: @iammeandmeisiam , @imanhaitani @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @astormunchar @eoieopda @blog-name-idk @madbutgloriouspond @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @mssukeyna​ @euphoricfilter @luaspersona

[neptuneiris]

brooklyn baby (03/?)

look at us, you and i, back at it again

pairing: rockstar!aemond × fem!reader

summary: another party, a group of friends and the spin the bottle game takes you back to aemond.

word count: 9.3k

previous part • next part • series masterlist

here another chapter, long but necessary, I'm really enjoying writing this story and I hope you also like it a lot. I look forward to your comments, thanks for all the support my loves, enjoy!

warnings: alcohol, language, mention of weed.

You let out a huge sigh of frustration and instantly stop typing, close your eyes and bring your hands to the back of your neck, not understanding what the fuck is wrong with you.

Oh but you do know.

Your funny mind tells you, only making you more frustrated and angry with yourself, as it is right because you do know what exactly is wrong with you. And what's wrong with you has a name: Aemond Targaryen.

It's going to be a whole week since that kiss and what a kiss... happened. You haven't seen him again but it's all constantly replaying in your mind, unable to avoid it and unable to stop.

All this week you have been trying to distract yourself with all your college homework, this important project is an example, but you always come back to think about him.

And you don't understand why, rather why that kiss and that moment with him is affecting you so much when it was just a kiss, yes, with a handsome guy who plays in a band, but nothing more than just a kiss happened.

However... you remember perfectly the feeling of his lips against yours, his hands caressing your face and body, also the way he pressed himself against you and sent waves of pleasure to your core.

Stop it!

You scold yourself, not being able to think about it here, in the school library, not when the simple memory of how he felt against you... right now makes you feel things you shouldn't feel in this place, at all.

You grimace, giving yourself a moment, because yes, it all felt great, the kiss was amazing, the feeling, everything... but a deep part of you tells you that you shouldn't have allowed it.

Maybe you didn't fuck with him but still, you've become just another girl who like all of them, fell easily at his feet. Even after seeing him like that with one of his fans, which tells you it's not the first time he's done it and after feeling disappointed, ignoring him and so on, you still reciprocated his kiss.

You get frustrated again, telling yourself that enough is enough and go back to work, no longer wanting to think about him and that kiss, focusing and getting serious about your project.

It takes you all afternoon and a small part of the evening to finally finish and you head back to your apartment, ending another stressful week and having no more worries, so you can rest now.

You let out a long sigh of relief as the warmth of your home envelops you, feeling so good to be back here and have no more worries, as you head to the kitchen and drop your backpack on the small island, thinking about what you can prepare to eat and then go to your room and watch a TV show or movie.

"Hi," says someone suddenly behind you.

You move as fast as your body allows you and completely scared you look at your living room behind you, where very comfortably on one of your sofas sits Baela, with her phone in hand and innocently eating some strawberries, which are in fact yours because you bought them two days ago when you went to the supermarket.

"W-what..." you stare at her blankly, your heart rate being faster than normal, "What are you doing here?"

"I texted you," she says still unconcerned, raising her phone, "I told you I'd be waiting for you here."

"But..." you look at her completely confused, "How did you get in? In fact, how come you and Rhaena can come in here? I have my keys, I-I don't....

"I made them a copy about a month ago," she interrupts you to answer, still unconcerned.

"What?" you snap, confused, "How?"

She shrugs.

"I know someone. And you didn't even notice."

You continue to stare at her completely confused, then let out a long breath and continue to try to control your heart rate, the feeling of being scared still not completely gone.

"God, you almost scared me to death," you look at her serious.

"Oh how dramatic," she rolls her eyes at you, "Anyway, come here."

You continue to watch her seriously, as you reluctantly make your way over to her to take a seat on your single couch, only to have your gaze fall on your bowl of strawberries that she is eating so placidly

"And those strawberries are mine," you snap at her.

She frowns at you.

"I'll buy you more, selfish."

You continue to stare at her for a few more seconds.

"Well? What's going on?" you watch her expectantly.

"There's a frat party tomorrow, the leader is a friend of mine, his name is William."

She starts to tell you and you instantly look away from her, understanding where she's going with this, as you let out a long breath and drop your head back against the back of the couch, closing your eyes.

"I invited Jace, I told him if he wanted he could invite his cousins and he said yes, they'll be there. So go prepare another one of your sexy outfit's."

"I'm not going," you tell her instantly, with resignation.

"What?" she also says instantly with surprise and confusion, "What are you talking about? And now why not?"

"I don't want to go."

She looks at you with her mouth wide open.

"B-but... are you crazy? Your sexy guitarist will be there," she says indignantly, "This is another great opportunity for you to see him again."

"It doesn't matter, I don't want to."

"What do you mean you don't want to!?"

She exclaims to you totally confused and without understanding anything, leaving the bowl with strawberries aside to give you all her attention, while you continue firm with your words and with the decision more than taken, from now on thinking that whatever she tells you, she won't make you change your mind.

What happened with Aemond... you don't want to say it was a mistake but it shouldn't have happened either. You've already become just another one of the crowd and if you see him again, you're afraid you won't be able to stop again and you really don't want that.

You don't want to take things any further... you don't want to 'officially' become another one of the crowd if he and you... get involved in that way.

"I'm not understanding anything," Baela says frustrated, "You don't want to see him again?"

"Baela, I don't want to see him again because I don't want to become another girl in his pile," you say seriously.

"W-what?" she says more confused than before, "Wait, what do you mean? Why do you say that? Did something happen with him that you haven't told me? Because I swear I don't understand anything."

"We kissed at Jason's party," you tell her suddenly, surprising her, "And I let it happen just when earlier at the after party I saw him going into the bathroom with one of his fans."

Baela, still surprised, softens her whole face now in understanding, but still surprised, while you affirm to her with your gaze that it is true, with your disappointed and serious face.

"It just happened. I couldn't help it," you tell her frustrated, bringing your hands back to your face, "But I felt so disappointed and so... stupid," you let out a long breath, "When I saw him like that, I understood that it's not the first time he's done it and I also understood why he gave me so much attention that time in Brooklyn. And I gave him exactly what he wanted at the party and he didn't even make any effort," you place a sour look, "And who could tell him no? Of course no one."

Baela lets out a long breath, watching you sadly.

"Y/N...

"I was so naive. I should have known," you interrupt her, "He's very handsome and plays in a band, it was clear he had thousands of girls after him and now... he only wants me as a one-night stand, then he'll ignore me and I'm really not interested to go back to being just another one of the crowd."

"But..." Baela watches you intently and hopefully, "Are you sure about what you saw? Maybe you misunderstood."

"They went into the men's room together, Baela, just him and that girl," you tell her obviously, "And they didn't go in together to play cards, did they?"

Baela doesn't say anything more, she just lowers her gaze and seems to think, trying to find an explanation, when there is no clear explanation other than that. And just like you... she feels disappointed.

Aegon looks like that kind of guy, in fact he is that kind of guy, but Aemond? Even she didn't expect it, though she knows you're right, both and Rhaena as well should have known since he's absolutely handsome and can easily afford that.

And she has no idea how to defend him, so she totally understands your disappointment and that you now want to keep your distance, being the best thing, because that's what she would do too if she were in your place.

"So your love novel with the sexy guitarist is over?" she asks you sad and disappointed.

"Yeah," you mumble, "As handsome as he is, I'm not interested if things are going to be like this."

She lets out another long breath again, resigned.

"Fine, then we won't mention the sexy guitarist anymore."

You place a sad little smile.

"But at least you and Rhaena got lucky and the thing with Jace and Luke is serious."

"I wouldn't call it serious," she says thoughtfully, with a grimace, "I mean, we're not seeing anyone else but... yeah," she shrugs, "Things are getting there."

You feel happy for them, they know it, so you don't say anything else, neither does Baela and the two of you sink into a comfortable silence that is all over your apartment, while you stare at a specific spot in your living room, thinking about everything and yet nothing, while Baela continues to eat from your strawberries, also thoughtful and still feeling disappointed.

Then you start to think again about what you are going to prepare to eat and also what movies you will decide to watch, whether suspense, science fiction, love or massacre.

"Don't you want grapes?"

Baela asks you suddenly, pulling you out of your thoughts, as you see how the bowl in her lap is already empty.

"I have some in my fridge. I can pay you with them for the strawberries."

You watch her slightly amused for a moment, then let out a small laugh and nod.

Unfortunately for you, your Friday night goes by fast, where all you did was stay in bed watching a movie marathon with Baela of love being the final decision, whether it was Me Before You, Love Rosie, Midnight Sun, Two Feet Apart, also Nerve and the first Maze Runner movie.

Until you wake up, it's Saturday, Baela is gone and you actually read her message telling you that she has returned to her apartment.

You stay in bed all morning, not really doing anything important, until you get up, take a shower, make yourself a meal and go back to bed with a bowl of chips, ready to continue with the next episode of Gossip Girl.

It's the third time you're re-watching the show but you don't care.

Then you fall asleep and when the sound of your phone wakes you up, you see through your windows all the dark sky, while everything inside your room is reflected by the light of the TV and also by the New York buildings that surround you with their light windows and give that so well known nocturnal characteristic of the city.

You let out a yawn, realizing that your nap has gone on too long when you turn on your phone screen and see that it is almost nine o'clock at night

You strain your eyes and watch more closely as Baela has texted you, as have some of your classmates, but it's the weekend and you don't want to worry about anything at school right now, so you read Baela's message.

baela🐬: are you sure you don't want to come?

You frown.

You: where are you?

And she replies back instantly.

baela🐬: at will's party

And she sends you a picture of her with Rhaena and Luke, while you distinguish Jace's figure a bit off in the background, preparing a drink, while there are colored lights and a bunch of other people, so you remember him and you also remember that he must be there too.

You: have fun

But as soon as you send the message, Baela reads it and quickly responds.

baela🐬: he's not here👀

And this immediately catches your attention, frowning again and then answering and waiting for an attentive response.

You: why not?

baela🐬: everyone came except him and daeron. jace said they both decided to stay home.

You watch with your narrowed eyes the message, questioning Baela's words and not quite believing her.

You: are you lying and this is one of your plans to get him and I to see each other?

baela🐬: 🙄

baela🐬: after what you told me do you think I would do that to you?

You press your lips together, as you let out a long breath, since she is right. Baela can be very insistent but when you finally make her understand that no is no, she stops.

You: send me the address

You say finally, having made up your mind, needing to go out and have fun after such a stressful week, as if all your weeks are not the same, and then you leave your phone on the bed and get up to get ready.

You take advantage of the fact that he's not there, because then you won't have to be worrying about being in the same place as him after what happened between the two of you and you can actually have fun.

From your closet you choose an all-black dress that fits your body perfectly, with straps and comes to mid-thigh. You decide to wear it with a pair of boots without a platform since you will get tired if you wear the high platform ones. (click here)

You discard one of your jackets as you know it won't be necessary in a crowd of people so you go on to do your make-up, this time putting on a matte flesh colored lipstick and leaving your hair straight with two strands together in the middle of your head.

Once you're ready, you call for an Uber, since Baela has taken the car and not long after, you find yourself entering the party.

You spot a few of your classmates as you enter the huge house, greeting them, greeting Baela's friends that she introduced you to and even crossing paths with Jason who is with Cregan and Alysanne.

You ask for your cousins and find them near the kitchen, each one talking to their respective boy, while on your way to them you meet Aegon, although he doesn't see you, as he is sticking his tongue down the throat of a blonde girl.

You watch him slightly surprised and amused by such a scene, until you finally reach your cousins.

Rhaena pulls you into a huge hug, instantly telling you that you look amazing with a smile, to which you also say the same, also to Baela, then greeting Jace and Luke, Jace quickly offering to make you a drink.

"Have you guys been here long?" you ask them over the music.

"Not long. About an hour ago," Rhaena answers you.

"So? What's the news?"

"Nothing new, you know," Baela tells you smiling, "We were actually thinking of playing beer pong."

"Oh, great. I want to play the first round," you say instantly, ready to start enjoying the party.

Just then Jace returns with your drink, you thank him and the five of you start setting up for the game, beginning first by playing one-on-one and then two-on-two.

Laughter and excitement invades the five of you every time the ball goes in or out of the red cups, having a good time, forgetting about the outside world for a while and enjoying these moments.

Other people at the party also join in to play, making it all even more fun, Rhaena already starting to get a little drunk, as are you, though not too much.

Then the five of you decide to go dancing along with all the other people, shouting, singing and enjoying all the songs while Rhaena records and takes some pictures, while you already start to feel the alcohol taking effect a bit more, letting you get more into the moment, really enjoying it.

Until you start to get a bit left over among the four of you as Baela starts to dance very close with Jace, both in their own world, also Rhaena with Luke, both still shy but getting more and more confident.

Still it doesn't bother you, you dance alone and even join in with another group of girls dancing nearby, singing with them.

You then accompany Rhaena along with Luke back to the kitchen to hydrate a bit, you also deciding to drink water this time because of how hot the house already feels, and then Baela and Jace join in as well, the five of them taking a break.

They both offer to prepare more drinks, while you go for your fourth beer, staying a moment alone with your cousins.

"So? Has anything happened between you and Luke yet?" you ask her interested, with a small smile.

And of course, Rhaena blushes and smiles shyly.

"We kissed."

"At Jason's party?"

"Yes and also a while ago," she tells you clearly controlling her excitement, "I don't know, I feel like we're going slow but sure."

"Better that than going fast," Baela tells her, nodding in her direction.

"You go fast with Jace," you tell her amused, laughing.

"That's not true," she gets indignant, "We've only kissed."

"Oh so you didn't take him to your apartment when Jason's party was over?" you inquire, expectantly.

Immediately she looks at Rhaena completely serious and more indignant than before.

"You were the gossip?"

"I didn't say anything!" she tells her instantly, "Besides it was obvious. I slept with Y/N because there was no way I was going to sleep on your couch to listen to your sounds."

You let out a huge laugh, as Baela reluctantly takes a sip from her beer bottle.

"Well, it's true, we're going fast but we've both been clear and know what we want."

"Thank God," you nod to her then let out a long breath, putting on your thoughtful face, excited and sad at the same time, "I admired you guys," you mumble, looking out into the beyond, "I would have wanted to have the same luck."

"Oh come on, don't say that," Rhaena tells you instantly with a soft look.

"Yeah, it wasn't like….

Start to say Baela too, but she stops mid-sentence, drawing her sister's attention and yours too, while you see how she stands watching behind you completely static, surprised and a bit fearful.

You exchange confused glances with Rhaena, who stares at her sister as if she is completely mad.

"What? What's wrong?"

She tells her but Baela doesn't react, so Rhaena also looks to where she's watching and her reaction is also the same, instantly looking surprised at who knows what, annoying you because they don't say anything.

"But what the hell is wrong with you guys?"

You inquire them without understanding, confused, to follow the same gaze as both of them, watching behind you and then… now you understand.

You part your lips and watch with your eyes wide open as Daeron and Aemond make their way through the entire party, instantly drawing everyone's attention, but more so the girls specifically, beginning to feel your heart start to beat fast as you watch them.

Incredulous and confused you don't understand anything, seeing how he is here, when he wasn't supposed to come, all the memories of that almost kiss and then the kiss invading your mind instantly, also the memory of his hips pressing against you.

Fuck.

That's all you can think of as you watch him, standing there, walking among all the people in that alluring way of his, as if he owned the whole place, yet with his unconcerned look and deliberately ignoring all the girls watching him interested.

Then you look again at your cousins, who look back at you still surprised.

"What is he doing here?"

You inquire, at that moment realizing the panic that begins to invade your whole body, since you were supposed to come here because he wouldn't be here.

"How should I know?" Baela tells you instantly, looking just as worried as you, "Jace said they weren't coming, that's why I texted you."

Still panicking, you go back to watching him, still being the center of attention along with Daeron, who smiles at everyone and looks more than willing to start having a good time, while you couldn't say the same for Aemond, but still he's here.

You look away, let out a huge sigh and take a huge gulp from your beer bottle, resigned.

Aemond.

Aemond has never felt more tired in his life.

Constantly moving from one side to the other for the tour, having five-hour rehearsals during the week and on weekends attending concerts along with the after party and finishing very late to be the same routine the next day, he doesn't find time to rest properly.

He sees how his brothers and his cousins, actually nephews, do everything, they look happy, like new and he... doesn't. Rather, he feels exhausted.

It's not that he doesn't like what he does, on the contrary, he loves playing guitar and giving a good show, but he wishes that's all it would be.

Criston, his manager, insists that he must spend time with the fans, since after all they are the reason why they are successful and can play their concerts, but he, not that he is ungrateful, in fact he does spend time with them… but to a certain point.

He can take pictures and sign his autograph in a pleased and calm way, also receive gifts like necklaces or bracelets from them, he really appreciates those gestures. But when the girls get too intense and start touching him, also invading his personal space too much… that's when the discomfort begins.

He understands that they feel very excited, but there are limits and many of them do not respect them by wanting to act as if they have known him all their lives and believe they have a certain right over him.

Also social media, if it were up to him, he wouldn't have it, he really doesn't like it and prefers the real world. But Criston insisted that he do it for the band, agreeing to at least have Instagram account.

He got used to it soon after by posting promotional photos, whether it was of a new single, a new music video or a new album, also from the tour. Then he only started posting behind-the-scenes photos of his brothers and nephews, also of the cities he was traveling to, but nothing else.

Also the invasion of his privacy by fans was something he didn't like at all, however, like his brothers and nephews, he had to learn to deal with it.

Sometimes he thinks about what would have happened if he had decided to go to college, definitely another story of his life would be, but honestly… he can't imagine himself not being this, a musician.

However, he didn't think that following Aegon's idea about forming a band would be so heavy and bring so much questioning about his life and what he does.

At least the tour ends in New York after having traveled half the country, where his mother and family live, also where he has his own apartment, just like Aegon.

And the first two concerts are in Queens, then they will play in three different clubs in Brooklyn and finally they will play two more concerts in Manhattan.

There is nothing new, only the public reacts differently when the dates of the last concerts start, Queens actually being very quiet and more pleasant for him, but not for Aegon, who complained about the lack of excitement from the fans and that the girls practically didn't jump on him.

And of course, Jace and Daeron had to agree with him.

Then Brooklyn, the first concert being exactly what Aegon expected, all the girls screaming, lots of energy in the audience and on stage, lots of noise and a whole scandal.

And the second concert is the same, until finally something interesting happens at the after party when he almost makes that fan lose her balance and doesn't jump the second she sees him walk out of that room, being you.

Aemond was so used to any girl practically jumping on him and doing everything to get his attention, but not you. And he knew because you're not really a fan.

But still, you surprised him by the way you are.

He was surprised that you were somehow understandable to him to be hiding from the fans for a while and that you didn't judge him, also that you weren't playing dumb to get his attention, that you didn't instantly react to him after he decided to push you a little, you just were honest at all times and gave him his space.

And you got his attention a lot in just a matter of moments. And Aemond in that instant knew… he wanted, no, he needed to see you again.

He had never given free tickets to anyone before, you just happened to be an exception, in fact he didn't have permission to do that, but he didn't care and luckily no one noticed, least of all Criston.

He really wanted you to take something from the concert back home, so he genuinely didn't make you both go into that room to take advantage of the fact that you were both alone and get something more from you, no, he really did it out of kindness.

But as the seconds passed and the conversation extended, he couldn't help but think what it would feel like to kiss you, to feel you, to touch you. And when he saw that you also began to respond in the same way, that's when he decided to make the move.

It would have happened, had it not been for Aegon, of course.

After you thanked him and left embarrassed, Aegon gave him a friendly tap on the shoulder, telling him that had he known, he wouldn't have interrupted him, but that Criston was going to go mad if he didn't go out and talk to the fans.

In the days that followed he never stopped thinking about you, much less when he found out that Jace and Luke were texting your cousins, so he was looking forward, even if he didn't realize it, to the concert in Manhattan.

But what a great disappointment he felt when he saw your cousins, but not you.

Originally he didn't plan to find out what had happened to you, but when he was at the bar with your cousins, he couldn't contain himself any longer and asked them both where you were.

After that, the stress came back.

With the last concert coming up, the whole band had to rehearse longer hours than usual every day until the day of the concert, Aegon insisting that he wanted everything to be perfect, following Criston's idea, as it had to be unforgettable.

They were going to take a break for a month, then they would play more concerts in New York and in the closest surrounding areas of the state such as Pennsylvania, Maryland, New Jersey, Connecticut, Rhode Island and Massachusetts.

Aemond tried not to think about you anymore, because after you didn't go to the concert, he began to understand that he would probably never see you again.

Then the last concert started and all the pressure he had on him he felt more at that moment, knowing perfectly well that he couldn't make a mistake, focusing all the time on his notes and especially on his solos.

He couldn't relax, not even with the cigarette, keeping in mind that after this he would have to focus on the fans, when all he wanted was to finally rest and not worry about more concerts, feeling very tired.

That's why he did what he did.

After spending only a few minutes with the fans, returning to the room, he had to leave almost immediately on Criston's orders, but on his way out he saw a very excited fan already at the door asking him for a picture.

It was enough to observe her from head to toe and then tell her to follow him, going directly to the men's room where the girl did not even ask a question since it was quite clear the intention and she did not say no either.

When was the last time he had done this? At the last concert in Portland, Oregon.

He knew Aegon did it too, but he wasn't more frequent than he was, since he only did it when he felt the need too much due to stress and frustration, as in those moments.

He fucked her from behind, fast and hard, not needing foreplay as she was completely wet. He didn't touch her except from the waist and nothing else, she wanted to kiss him and touch him but he didn't let her. He just needed to release.

Neither of them needed to take off their clothes either, she had a skirt on and that made everything faster, just like he wanted. Then he came out of the bathroom first after cleaning up, telling the girl to get out of here without anyone seeing her, to go back to the center of the pub, where he met Aegon.

When then he saw you.

Surprise came over him completely, definitely not expecting to see you, barely realizing that you had seen the concert and that you had been here the whole time.

And after you made no move to approach him, completely ignoring his gaze on you and also as if he wasn't in the same place as you, he understood that you knew what he had done.

You had seen him and he couldn't help but get more frustrated about it.

The boys had mentioned a party, Jace most of all, saying that Baela, your cousin, had invited them. He had from the beginning thought about not going and in fact wasn't going to, but after seeing you… he decided to join in as well.

Throughout the party it became clearer to him that you had definitely seen him and so you continued to ignore him, which made him frustrated but he also understood you.

However, had he known you were there, the first thing he would have done was to try to get close to you and what he did with that girl he would never have considered.

Until finally things turn out in his favor on that balcony.

From the beginning he told himself that he wasn't going to ruin this opportunity to talk to you by being left alone and that he wasn't going to bring up the subject so as not to make you feel uncomfortable by his actions… unless you decided to talk about it.

And he thought the two of you would just talk and nothing more, but the moment he started testing the waters just out of curiosity and also because he wanted to, of course, you started responding in the same way, just like in Brooklyn and he felt very lucky to finally feel your lips against his.

What came next was not intentional, but his emotions began to make him let himself go and you were very responsive at all times to his touch, only driving him crazier.

He enjoyed the moment and very much, loving every second of it, of feeling your lips, your body, your hands on his face and neck, everything, only leaving him wanting more when the moment was interrupted.

But you looked absolutely beautiful with that look of desire, your red, swollen lips, watching him with that slight glow in your eyes, the lights of the huge buildings illuminating both of them, you.

And Aemond at that moment only felt more the need to see you again.

Unfortunately nothing more happened between you and him that night, both of you couldn't be together anymore because afterwards Luke and Daeron started feeling sick from all the drinking, Daeron especially started throwing up in the bathroom and could barely stand up by himself.

Aemond had to take care of him and they left the party.

Afterwards neither he nor you tried to communicate after what happened, he mostly didn't do it so as not to overwhelm you and not to make you feel pressured, so he preferred to give you your space until you had processed what happened and that you wouldn't consider him an intense for wanting to see you again.

But how he wanted to see you again and he understood that he wouldn't until his nephews and your cousins planned something. However, when Jace told them about a frat party, he told you that Baela didn't mention you when he asked her with whom she was going.

So he decided not to go and went to visit his mother, who has her own apartment also on the Upper East Side and Daeron lives with her, however, because his little brother was grounded after his mother saw him in that state last time, he managed to convince her to lift his grounding.

And now they're both there, in the living room, as their mother prepares to go to a dinner party for her work and Daeron insists that he take him to that party.

"We won't say anything to Mom, she says I'm still too young to go to frat parties."

"And she's right," he replies, disinterested.

"Oh come on, the party last time was a frat party."

"It was in an apartment, not a house," he clarifies.

"But it was still a college party!"

"Then you must not have had too much to drink and that's why I don't want to go to this party if I'm going to have to babysit you afterwards," he tells him seriously.

"Oh, what a bullshit," he tells him indignantly, "We both know and in fact everyone knows that you don't want to go to that party because your girl from the other night won't go."

"Keep messing with me and I'm not taking you to any more parties," he warns him.

"But you don't want to take me to this one!" he tells him again indignantly, "Come on dude, I really want to go."

"Then go," he says confused, "I don't understand why you want me to go with you."

"And how am I supposed to go by myself? Flying?"

He lets out a long breath, starting to get irritated.

"I already told you no, Daeron."

"Please."

"No."

"Please!"

"No."

"But…

"No."

"Dude…

"No."

"Let's go to the party and I won't tell Criston that you gave free tickets to that girl and Jace and Luke's girls."

Then Aemond's gaze immediately refocuses on Daeron, who crosses his arms and watches him expectantly, completely serious and more than willing with his threat.

"The others didn't notice but I did," he lets him know, smiling with superiority, "Those tickets were for some friends of Criston's and he asked me to take them to him. And what a coincidence that they were gone right after you and Aegon left the room."

"It could have been Aegon," he tells her serious.

"Aegon loses his own things because he doesn't remember where he put them and you think he's going to know where those tickets were kept?" he asks her confused.

Aemond lets out a long sigh, as he looks away from him, looking clearly annoyed.

"You fucking little demon."

Reader.

The bottle game and seven minutes in paradise.

That's what everyone wants to play, being Baela's idea mainly, while she insists you to join, telling you it will be fun, while all the participants, Cregan, Jason, Alysanne, Rhaena, Luke and Jace of course, also the leader of the fraternity and Baela's friend William, wait in his room.

But you really don't like that game, the last time you played that, already many months ago also at a party, it wasn't very nice.

"Come on," Baela insists you pleadingly for what you think is the eleventh time.

"I told you, I'll be there with you but I'm not going to play," you tell her tired.

"That's not the point. You have to play, come on," she insists again.

"Baela," you look at her irritated.

"And I promise I won't sneak back into your apartment. Let alone steal food from you again," she says instantly, hopefully.

And at this you raise one of your eyebrows in her direction, expectantly.

"And will you give me the copy you clandestinely took from my key?"

She rolls her eyes.

"Yeah, whatever. It's at my house, I'll give it to you later."

"Are you sure about that?" you inquire with an obvious look.

At this she doesn't say or do anything to you, as you point to her bag with your gaze and then extend your hand, gesturing to her with your fingers, clearly waiting, while Baela is left with no other choice.

She lets out a resigned and irritated sigh, then reluctantly from her purse she pulls out the key to your apartment, handing it to you in the same manner.

"There. Happy?"

You smile pleased, putting it in your purse.

"Yes, very," you tease.

"Okay, now come on," she insists, taking you by the arm.

"Wait, the brownie."

You head over to the island in the huge kitchen, grabbing a brownie from a clear box right there.

"You're really going to eat that?" she asks you curiously, with a small smile, as she crosses her arms.

"It's not for me, it's…

"Hello ladies!"

Three platinum heads approach you, this immediately catching your attention, feeling incredibly nervous the second you see it's Aemond, already watching you.

You bite your lips and avert your gaze instantly, trying not to look nervous and not letting those thoughts from before invade you, focusing on Aegon and Daeron, but Aegon more so since he pretty much always speaks for everyone.

"Y/N!" he exclaims in surprise, with a huge grin, "I hadn't seen you. I thought you hadn't come."

"You were busy when I arrived," you tell him with a nervous little smile.

"I was?" he says confused and you nod, "I don't remember. Anyway, what are you two doing? My little cousins weren't with you?"

"They're upstairs, we're going to play spin the bottle and seven minutes in paradise, do you want to join?"

Baela asks them instantly, turning to the three of them with a smile, while you quickly look at her almost wanting to murder her at that moment, but you stay neutral and wait for him to say no.

"Yeah, sure," Daeron says instantly.

"I'm in," Aegon assures you as well, sliding over to you, pointing his index finger at the brownie in your hand, "Are you going to eat that? Because it's calling me."

"They're of weed," you clarify to him.

"Weed?" he repeats in surprise, "Wow Y/N, I didn't think you were that kind of girl," he tells you as he crosses his arms and watches you with a half smile.

"It's not for me, it's for Cregan, he asked for it," you tell him amused.

"Cregan?" he instantly inquires, "Cregan Stark, my man? He's here too?"

"I thought you saw him when you arrived," Baela tells her confused, "He's up there too, he's going to play with us."

"And why didn't you say that before? Then let's go!" he says instantly, grabbing Daeron by the shoulder and starting to hurry out of the kitchen towards the stairs, when he stops to turn back to you, "Give it to me, I'll give it to him," he takes the brownie from your hand and resumes his walk, "Hurry up," he urges you all, then asks Baela which room exactly everyone is in.

You watch as Aemond nonchalantly follows them, for which you curse internally, since you thought he wouldn't participate in this, he doesn't seem like the type of guy who chooses to play those kinds of games, but you have no choice.

Once you reach William's room, which is gigantic, Baela announces that she has found more players and everyone starts to take a seat on the couches, while you watch as Aegon greets Cregan very happily and he greets him as well, as if the two haven't seen each other in years, handing him the brownie.

Then Rhaena stands in the center, empty bottle in hand, setting it down on top of a small table that is also in the center.

"Well, I think we all know how this is played by now."

"Are there any rules?" asks Jace.

"Of course there are, without them this wouldn't be fun."

You let out a long sigh, looking away, already wanting to get out of here.

"We made a deal," Baela suddenly says to you, instantly, quietly and as if she had read your thoughts.

"I know," you mutter back, watching her irritated.

But she smiles happily and you all turn your attention to Rhaena.

"This will be truth or dare, if you choose dare it will be to go in with someone in the bathroom who will also choose the bottle for seven minutes. If you want to do your dirty things, we will play loud music and turn it off when the seven minutes are up," she makes it clear, "The thing is, you have three lives, so to speak. If you choose true every time the bottle points at you, by the fourth time it will be dare."

"Understood."

"And no one can cheat or refuse," your cousin makes clear.

"This is like the mafia, once you're in, you don't get out," Aegon says.

You stir uncomfortably, avoiding looking at a certain person in front of you, because you perfectly feel his stare on you, making you feel nervous but not only because of that, also because you're both here, playing games.

What are the chances that you will have to fulfill the dare with Aemond?

You probably would have wanted it before, but now that you've made your decision, you continue to stand firm with it, really not wanting such a thing to happen or you won't have the slightest idea what to do.

The circle starts at one corner with Aegon, then Cregan, Alysanne, Rhaena, Aemond, Daeron, Luke, then Jace, Baela, you, Jason, William and then two of William's friends that you don't know.

Then Rhaena spins the bottle and the game begins.

First everyone chooses truth, starting cool, so it's their turn to answer questions such as; "the craziest place you've ever had sex," "your favorite position," "at what age did you lose your virginity," "do you have a fetish or any sexual preference," "have you ever been or had a friend with benefits," "have you ever faked an orgasm, "have you ever participated in a threesome?"

Those and more sexual and uncomfortable questions are asked.

So far, the bottle has not pointed to you, nor to Baela, nor to Aemond nor to Luke.

Until Cregan is the first to dare to say dare, then the bottle points at Alysanne, to the surprise of many who know that there is something more between them than just a friendship, as they always say.

As Rhaena said, William plays music on his Alexa at full volume or at least loud enough for no one to hear anything. And you again try to ignore Aemond's gaze on you as you talk to Jason next to you.

Then the seven minutes are up and when they both come out of the bathroom, they look presentable, but everyone instantly mocks and Alysanne embarrasses herself, giving herself away.

The game goes on and Aegon also dares in saying dare and the bottle is pointed at one of William's friends. And when the seven minutes are up, Aegon doesn't even bother to dissimulate that something definitely happened between them.

When then the bottle points at you, making everyone in the circle watch you and luckily you still have your three lives.

And who will ask you? Unfortunately Aegon.

"Have you ever kissed any of us here?"

Fuck.

You curse internally again, while everyone watches you attentively and more than interested, except Baela, Rhaena and of course him, because they already know.

You sense that Aegon knows too, though maybe Daeron, Jace and Luke don't, but who knows. So there's no point in lying, much less when that person is here.

Inevitably you watch him for a few short seconds, seeing how he watches you intently, bringing the beer bottle to his lips without taking his gaze away from you, looking so sexy.

No, don't think that!

"Yes," you say casually, lowering your gaze.

"Who?" asks Cregan, interested and with a smile.

"Just a question," Baela jumps to your rescue.

"Oh come on, you're just leaving us with the intrigue," he complains indignantly.

The bottle spins again, feeling more of Aemond's gaze on you, but you don't return it, when it's Daeron's turn to do the dare and he enters the bathroom with the same girl who entered with Aegon earlier, only when they both come out, you notice nothing happened.

Then the bottle points at Jace, having to do the dare as well, but the bottle points at Jason and everyone laughs, so with no choice, they both go into the bathroom together and when the seven minutes are up, they both pretend to wipe the saliva off their lips.

It's not until later that it's Baela's turn to meet the challenge and Jace finally gets his wish to go into the bathroom with her. Then it's William's other friend's turn to do the dare and the bottle points at Luke.

It is clear that when they both leave the bathroom, nothing happened and so the game continues, until luck has its way and it is Daeron's turn to go into the bathroom with the same girl Luke went in with, then Luke goes in with Rhaena and then it is William's turn to go in with you.

Nothing happens, they both just talk, not being at all awkward, as he is actually very nice, but still when they both come out, most of them make teasing and he clarifies that nothing happened, while all the time you feel the burning gaze of him.

Then Rhaena spins the bottle again and it finally lands on Aemond, with Alysanne being the one to ask him.

"Which of us here would you kiss?"

You lower your gaze instantly, biting your lips, not daring to look at him, not having the slightest idea why but you don't understand why the questions are precisely about kissing just when he and you have already kissed.

Aemond's answer is not immediately heard and you continue to stare at your lap, while everyone else around you watches him attentively and expectantly, wanting to hear his answer, when you feel his penetrating gaze on you.

Honestly you wouldn't be surprised if he didn't say your name, maybe he would want to save you both embarrassment and you would understand perfectly if he says the name of some of William's friends. Besides, the kiss has already happened, you find no reason why he-.

"Y/N."

In an instant you raise your gaze towards him, your breath catching at that moment, causing the little giggles and looks of surprise from everyone in silence, even from your cousins, definitely not expecting that, while you continue to watch him attentively, not having expected that either.

But he continues to stand firm with his answer, which in fact he said it completely nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal to hide, being honest and direct without any problem.

He takes his last sip from his beer bottle, watching you back, just as attentive as you are, only making you feel more surprised and nervous, not having the slightest idea how to react.

You look away from him, when Aegon says to continue, breaking the moment but still feeling the tension.

As the game continues, no one has a chance to avoid the dare anymore, neither do you and Aemond, where fortunately nothing more happened between the two of you. Until the bottle again points to Aemond, but now he must do the dare.

Rhaena spins the bottle and just as it begins to slow down, everyone sees it point at the girl Daeron had entered with earlier.

With a disinterested and even bored look, Aemond without much emotion gets up and heads to the bathroom, with the girl following him instantly, while Baela gives you a look but you continue as usual, when inside you are very attentive.

You don't know exactly how you feel as the seven minutes begin, but you continue to act normal, feeling Aegon's gaze on you as well.

When the time ends and Aemond opens the door the second William stops the music, walking out of there with the girl walking out behind him, looking a bit… disappointed?

And sure enough, nothing happened between the two of them, causing Baela to give you a gentle, sly nudge, while you continue to act nonchalant, when in fact you occasionally watch Aemond intently.

"This is the last round," Rhaena warns, "We all have to point the bottle and do the dare one last time. Whoever you have already pointed at, will go out of the circle so that the bottle will point at those who have not yet."

"Sounds perfect to me," says Aegon, visibly excited, "I want my turn with Cregan."

"Hey!"

Everyone laughs, as Cregan gives you a friendly tap on the shoulder, as you both laugh and look amused, and then Rhaena spins the bottle and officially starts the last round.

You thought you would have a little more time, however, everyone watches perfectly as the bottle slowly points in your direction, while you let out a long breath and Rhaena excitedly spins it again to see who you will get to enter the bathroom with.

What are the chances that you will have to fulfill the dare with Aemond?

You had wondered before and at that moment you realize that the chances were very high, since the bottle is pointing at him.

The others don't even give you time to react, they quickly insist you get up, as well as him, all looking very excited and unable to wait, so very soon, you already find yourself entering the bathroom while Aemond closes the door behind him.

Holy shit.

You think, feeling completely nervous, as you lean back against the hand wash and he leans against the wall in front of you to hear the music out there playing perfectly.

He watches you, but you don't look back at him, feeling very nervous and also very embarrassed after what happened out there and not only because of the questions you both were asked, but also because of the kiss.

How am I supposed to act with him after that happened?

You wonder, nervous and stirring in your place, feeling the bathroom too small and his gaze on you making you feel hot already and the seven minutes have barely started.

This whole not having anything to do with him thing is definitely not working for you. And just like last time, he's the first to break the silence between the two of you.

"Did I do something wrong?"

And this immediately catches your attention, watching him instantly, while he is already watching you between attentive and curious, trying not to let his gaze make you even more nervous.

"What?" you say confused, "No."

"Then why are you acting like I'm not in the same place as you?"

Shit.

You think, definitely feeling more nervous, unable to help yourself.

"No," you shake your head, "No, I-I don't….

"Is it because of the kiss?"

You look at him slightly surprised, parting your lips, also not expecting him to ask you that with such a naturally and casually, realizing how incredibly direct he is, getting straight to the point.

And you don't know if that terrifies you or you like it more.

But you can't answer, you're too nervous, he makes you too nervous and you don't want to tell him yes, that's why and also because you don't want to be another girl of the crowd, but you can't lie to him either, even if you wanted to you can't think of anything.

Being in these circumstances with him does not help you at all.

When he sees that you don't answer him anything, he takes a step towards you, letting out a sigh and you immediately look at him alert, nervous and try to take more distance between you, feeling like your heart will jump out of your chest at any moment.

And he notices all this, confused by your behavior.

"What? What's wrong?" he asks you softly and attentive, "Are you afraid of me?"

You lower your gaze, biting the inside of your cheek, nervous and thoughtful, wanting to end this once and for all, telling yourself that you better be honest and direct with him, too, now, just as he is being honest and direct with you.

And finally you tell him, in a low voice, without looking at him.

"I don't want to be another one of your girls in the crowd, Aemond."

He looks at you slightly surprised, his lips parted, definitely not expecting that, creating again that silence between the two of you, while you continue with your gaze down and he doesn't know what to say to you, for the first time being at a loss for words.

He understands what you're implying, about him and that girl at the after party, but what he didn't expect was to hear those words from you.

And you, plucking up your courage, watch him and decide to explain further.

"I saw you at the after party of your last concert with that girl," you tell him softly and with a certain disappointed tone, "That's why I didn't try to approach you that night after understanding that that's what you're looking for from me."

He opens his mouth instantly to retort, but you continue speaking, wanting to make everything clear to him.

"Until the balcony thing happened at Jason's party and…. I don't regret it," you clarify, "But I feel like it shouldn't have happened," you look at him nervous, "I-I don't want to be another one-night stand girl that you throw away, ignore and forget about, I… I'm not looking for that," you deny, "It feels awful."

Aemond continues to watch you attentively, without you and him saying anything else, that silence returning, when he lets out another sigh and you are alerted when he moves closer to you again, this time completely shortening the distance between the two of you.

And you watch intently and nervously as he places both hands on your waist, pulling you closer to him, closing his eye and resting his forehead with yours, making you melt under his touch but not enough to allow it.

"Aemond," you call him softly, gently trying to pull away from him.

"Listen to me," he says softly, not pulling away and tightening his grip on your waist.

You stop putting up resistance, watching him completely attentively, as he takes a moment before speaking, enjoying your closeness, which is all he's thought about since that kiss happened.

"I'm sorry you saw me that way," he tells you sincerely, "Had I known you were there, I wouldn't have done it."

You can't help but feel absurd.

"Oh come on."

"I mean it," he tells you instantly, insistent, "I know it's not justification but I thought I'd never see you again, it's not like I do it every day either, I promise," he assures you, "But ever since that kiss happened… I haven't stopped thinking about you Y/N, not for a second," he confesses to you, "Even you were the reason I decided to play this shit, just so I could be close to you."

Oh no, you're already falling.

Your mind says to you, as you give him your full attention.

"But I'm not…

"You won't be," he interrupts you, firm, "You won't be just another one of the crowd. Believe me that was never my intention since I met you."

You swallow hard, still watching him not entirely convinced.

"And how am I supposed to believe that?"

"Let me prove it to you," he tells you instantly, willing, "Stop ignoring me, start talking to me and you'll see."

He says to then raise one of his hands, place it on your cheek gently and lean in to kiss you.

taglist fic:

@melsunshine @fan-goddess @toodlesxcuddles @helaenaluvr @at-a-rax-ia @iloveallmyboys @nockerin @manonmccrory @tsujifreya @persephonerinyes @happinessinthebeing @zenka69 @diannnnsss @mariaelizabeth21-blog1 @gloryekaterina @strangersunghoon @ttkttt

[pastafossa]

When do you think you’ll end your Red Thread series?

So this is where it gets hinky!

Before news of DDBA came out, my plan was always that it would end a bit after S3 (maybe a couple months canonically). That's when we'd wrap up all the plotlines revolving around done by the Man in the White Coat, the Project Beagle plotline, a plotline I can't really talk about yet, things like that. We'd also have a nice romantic finish for their romantic plotline. After that I was going to do a couple one/three shots, and maybe one shots for the future (I came up with something for the Thanos Snap for example), but that was going to be it.

Now DDBA is coming and I'm like ???

we know i can't stop writing for matt let's be honest

So. The plan is: TRT, the official fic, will still end at its scheduled point because seriously, that fic cannot go on forever. After that we'll get our one-shots and shorter fics, both the ones planned and some I had ideas for just based on seeing Older!Matt running around in behind the scenes pics and such, cause we deserve to see him and Older!Jane being a chaotic and still sickeningly in love little married couple. And then, once I get a feel for DDBA, I may

may

big may, this is not a sure thing

have an idea I'm working on for a bigger fic. It won't be TRT's size again - I love TRT! I do! But it takes SO much work to construct and I'd like to work on doing an AU TRT for publishing one day. But it'll be longer than my usual one-five chapter side fics. My big thing is I want to make sure I have a solid original plotline. I don't want to be bound to canon, and I'd want it to continue to feel like Jane has her own shit in this big wide TRT world to deal with while Matt's out doing his shit. So I'm workshopping some stuff. But even if that doesn't work out, just know we'll get some one-shots and TRT takes on things regardless. <3

[friendlybowlofsoup]

Another Update

Hello Friends,

I have a rather long (but optimistic!) update to share with you all today. As many of you are probably tired of reading these kind of posts, I have a TL;DR here, but I did want to share what has been on my mind in that past half-year that I haven't been here.

It has been rough, and busy as always, but I think I'm finally facing myself and my project for the first time in a very long time.

TL;DR (it's actually long, I have a lot to say (*_ _)人)

I soul-searched and decided to stop compromising on my own feelings with regards to this project. I gave in to everything I wanted to do.

Plot changes, which means some character changes, which means some of the demo is outdated.

GotRM will be switching over to Twine.

----

OH MAN DID I SUFFER THE LAST FEW MONTHS

After my previous update, I hunkered down and really analyzed how I wanted to proceed with GotRM as a project. Because even prior to that post, I had already been going through long periods of hiatuses (which you are all aware of), and while I didn't lie about school taking up my time, I was also harboring a growing dissatisfaction with my own writing that really killed my progress for a long time.

So after everything had settled, I sat down and forced myself to peel apart my work. I know I said I would answer asks, but I uninstalled all of my social media and put aside this blog to focus. I made a note of all the things I liked and didn't like, and I made a list of things I wanted to change or improve on. The biggest point was that I also looked at my efficiency during actual writing sessions: how much of my time was spent writing vs. fighting with code? How could I change that?

And after a lot of deliberation, I figured there were a few things I had to change from the ground up, summed up in four points:

My working style was super incompatible with grad school. I can't spend 20-30 minutes scrolling up and down CSIDE checking code or looking for narratives while also jumping between chapters to make sure events line up. As this story grows, the more difficult it becomes to keep track of all the branches, so I needed an alternative working method, which I am adhering to now, and it prioritizes efficiency.

I hated the way I was tracking and coding stats in-game. I have griped so much about coding stats, and I have adhered to such a rigid style that I really felt trapped whenever I was confronted with balancing them out. So I'm throwing that to the wind and redoing how I utilize and convey them. Player-side, this decision doesn't change much since I never fully utilized stats in the demo anyway, and the stats page with indicators will still exist, but I'm getting rid of stat bars and how I treat stat checks.

The story I want to write now is different from the one I started out with. I've known for a while that GotRM was becoming far more than the tiny, wishful novella that I wrote as a teenager. I held onto that old story for a long time, but there's just so much I want to change that I realized I'd been clinging to a story I no longer enjoyed writing. So I spent the majority of the last few months rewriting GotRM from scratch. I redid some worldbuilding, I changed a lot of plot points, and I fixed a lot of characters' backstories accordingly. This meant scrapping stuff from even the demo, but that turned out to not be the biggest issue because:

I wanted to branch away from ChoiceScript. Honestly, I never really cared about getting officially published, but the camaraderie in the forums and on Tumblr were why I committed to CS and CoG. However, ultimately, I really want the functionality that other tools can offer GotRM, and so after a long internal debate, I will be switching over to Twine. Fortunately, since I was rewriting everything anyways, this has been relatively painless, and passage mapping has made everything so much neater. I am trying my best to make it up to chapter 2 before I release the new demo, so please look forwards to that!

And so yes, I am still here, chugging along.

I love this game and this story: it's been my creative escape for as long as I could remember, and you can imagine how frustrated I was when I realized I was starting to dread working on it.

I am forever learning more about myself and my writing style, and this is simply more of that journey. Thank you everyone for sticking around, for joining the discord, and for checking up on me--that I have all of you has truly been a dream.

Hopefully more updates to come soon! I understand that there may be questions about these new changes, so please ask away! I will (try) to release some asks that I've been working on in the drafts too, but I will wait until at least tomorrow to release them so that this post doesn't get drowned out immediately.

And as always, with a lot of love,

FriendlyBowlofSoup (Mei)

[forusomimiya]

3, 6 and 17 with Sakusa<3

I read the sixth prompt and my head projected sakusa behind you, all his weight on your body, lifting your chin, asking you to beg him and…. WELL, HERE'S THE REST WOOHOO 🕺🏻🕺🏻 Hope you like it ಇ.☁࿔*:･⛓🖤

"You'll never come to understand how it makes me feel to see you like this, my little mess" With the weight of his body on top of yours, his soft hand ran across your throat, exerting light pressure before he moved it up to your chin and lifted it to make you gaze up at him. The gentle touch on your skin contradicted the filthy words that came out of his lips. You loved him and hated him at the same time, but not him, just his blissful taste in the habit of always edging you.

"Hands behind your back, I want you to show me how much you´ve missed me" You knew your place and what you had to do. Skilled hand holding both your wrists while the other opened your ass and watched the accomplishment of his work: your pussy contracting at the slightest touch of his fingers on you. "You know what you have to do if you want me to stop"

"No... I- won't admit it" Did you really want not to? You acted like a whore in heat every time Sakusa pulled you close to the edge and then forgot all about you, hurting your moral integrity. But fuck, he always let you so close that you ended up sobbing and begging, your dignity spread out on the floor, hopeless in the eyes of the curly haired dark haired man. "You're punishing me on purpose. You know that well, fuck"

"You think so?" A quick spank that unconsciously pushed your ass back, as if it hardly didn't turn you on. Of course you adored him treating you like this, but you had a limit, and if he was going to keep behaving like this, you'd soon put a end to it. "Nothing's going to make you admit it?" another spank, this time followed by a groan. Soon it began to turn red. "I must admit that your stupid attitude is turning me on more than I thought it would"

And it wasn't until when he didn't get any reproach for his words, he thought that maybe a little more teasing would make you finally succumb.

"Let's go for another one" a trickle of spit falling down to your entrance, lubricating you to welcome his nimble fingers again.

"Wait— oh shit, fuckfuck!" again you couldn't help but let yourself go. Eyes rolling, releasing your frustration gripping the sheets as in your head you replaced his fingers with his cock. God, you couldn't wait any longer to take it. For once you had to surrender, enjoy yourself and come back later with more strength. "You win, I've... been a bad girl but, let me cum please, I fu-ucking need it"

"Oh, how soon you gave up. I thought I'd use you a little more…"

"I need ya, I can't take it anymore"

"Beg for it. I wanna see you, I wanna hear you" embarrassed by your appearance, you still turned your head to the side and looked at him, letting him see what he had turned you into.

"Please let me do it. I want it so bad, please. Only you can make me cum hard, Kiyo" He was proud of it, of course, but his face was still intact, cold. Only you knew that was what would make you succumb. Watching his serious face, taking an attempt at control and leaving it mission failed when without stopping touching you, you watched him unbutton his pants to finally give you that well-deserved reward you'd been craving for so long.

"Damn, you look so fucking hot right now…. So perfect for me, don't you?" you couldn't help but nod. "I'm so fucking lucky"

He was. Not many men would have someone like you in their bed, claiming their place and loosening up for them as well as you did for Sakusa when you were both already cumming on the sheets with his high-pitched, weak groans in your ear, perfect tuning. Neither of them would have the same experience as Sakusa in bed, and neither would know as well as he did what you needed at any given moment.

And let's not talk about the aftercare after that hard shagging. This is where any woman would envy having a hot bath at her disposal, food, and a man's body wrapped around you.

Yes, Sakusa was one of a kind.