#adding extra tags here so people see

[gail-lays]

Fizz-Pop propaganda

Sorry I’m gonna oc-post at 4 am. I won’t be showing the art she has that other people made but if you wanna look at that, look here!  ANYWAYS YEAH HI HI WOMAN PROPAGANDA DOODLES AND SHITPOST

She’s literally just a little gal in a roleplay (BY THE WAY IF YOU WANT TO ACTIVELY WATCH THE ROLEPLAY WITH HER HAPPEN, FEEL FREE TO JOIN THE SERVER!!)  Gotta love the universal mom of everyone! <3

[neosatsuma]

hey gang. reader of Posts here.

you see how the ALT button obscures the text? This is what every post with this setup looks like on mobile; on desktop, the button is more see-through until you hover over it, but not so on phone! While you can tap to open the image, it's an extra step (and then the image has to load...) and it's frustrating to do for, say, every single image in a web weaving post. What you as the post author can do instead...

BAM! Now the text is legible from the get-go, and still has ALT text for accessibility. All I did was added a little white space in the bottom left corner. and it only took about 2 minutes on my phone! I am. gently begging people to do this

[Image ID: two screenshots of tags that read, "#and I'd rather be doing something I enjoy than giving myself a repetitive stress injury scrubbing the shower". In the first image, the alt button largely obscures the words "than" and "scrubbing." In the second image, the text is the same, but the alt button now sits below it, so the entire passage is legible. /end ID]

[nekohooch]

Otakon was amazing. Finally getting to wear my Azem summoning circle gown in person was so much fun. I had multiple people stopping me to gush over my costume and people from HERE telling me they saw it online and were so excited to see it in person. I haven’t been to a con since right before the pandemic and it was so nice to come back to a space I love so much. My goal of someone knowing what I was without me explaining was reached (thanks to the ffxiv photoshoot)! And I can’t wait to see the pictures of the group photo shoot. I added more details to the costume and (minus the stars which were my nemesis falling off the whole day) everything was perfect.

The gown itself took about 100 hours total. 85 originally and 15 to add finishing touches. The top is gold lamé and the chiffon overlay was ripping so I removed it. I have a whole costume breakdown under the tag for the original dress creation.

The necklace has an Azem summoning stone that my fantastic friends brought me from Fanfest which I repurposed. The most added details are the stars. I felt the black spots between the p design and the beams was a bit too big and wanted something to bridge the gap. I also considered adding my statics job symbols in the circles but they keep changing jobs XD

I added some more filigree details to the main Azem design in the front of the gown and individual rhinestones to each of the right angle v filigree and each of the small mirrored circles that make up the big circles because I’m extra along with a gold ribbon for the hem

Then I decided to add lights

Again because I’m extra

I don’t have skill with LEDs so I used individual 6ft fairy lights with tiny battery packs. I painted each battery pack black because the white shows through the skirt especially when lit up. There are about 75-90 battery packs I lost count at 2 am on Wednesday honestly ahaha. I looped them twice up and down so the effect would be less spaced out but I might edit that in the future if I figure LEDs and how to get more powerful ones because they weren’t really strong enough for 10 hours (you can faintly see them in the pictures above) and I kept turning them off when I sat. I used the same petticoat but added a hoop skirt because I was wearing tennis shoes (sadly sensible instead of fashionable) instead of my platform boots.

When people complimented me I would ask if they wanted to see my favorite part (which is spinning) and the laughs and gasps of delight were fantastic. Overall I’m so fucking proud of this costume. Thank you to all of you fab people from the FFXIV coordination who said such kind things I’m so flattered and lovingly overwhelmed. It was an amazing return to cosplay.

[dauntlessallure]

𖤐 ⸝⸝ ˚ ┊ INSULT TO INJURY — T. FUSHIGURO ⋆

〝 ⠀ ݁ 𝐁𝐎𝐗𝐄𝐑!𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐎𝐍𝐄 ❜ ⠀݁ ⠀

【 SYNOPSIS 】— he’s mean. tough. toji fushiguro shouldn’t be so much to deal with until he is. you fix him up & he gives you a lil reward.

【 CONTENTS 】— boxer!toji , medic!reader , reader referred to as ‘ she ‘, fem-bodied reader, smut , slight angst / comfort , mentions of blood & injuries , mature language , jealousy , mutual stalking, hints at masturbation , consensual non-consent , unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it. ) MDNI + any other missing tags .ᐟ

【 PAIRING 】— toji fushiguro x reader

【 WORD COUNT 】— 2.2k

【 TAG LIST 】— @itsmonicabc @girlluvsblogging

⠀ ̽ ⠀ ᝰ✍︎ ﹐⠀/⠀ ❝ ⠀ 𝔄𝗗𝗠𝗜𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗧𝗜𝗢𝗡 𝔑𝗢𝗧𝗘 . . .

THE LONG AWAITED BOXER TOJI IS HERE. alrighty people , toji had won the poll vote for the first of the boxer!jjk men series. reblogs are very much appreciated <3. comment to be added to my tag list .ᐟ this work is not yet proof read.

boxer!toji was one of the first of many people that you had first taken care of as a medic. it was your first event working with the company , everyone you had run into was very very nice and seemed happy to have the extra support that your dainty little hands could provide. though at first , toji was refusing treatment. he called it “ a waste of time. “ which is translation for: im slightly embarrassed. toji was never the one to ask for help. in his own brain , he handles his own healing even if his nose was pouring blood like a leaking faucet. but you , you’d insisted that he’d stay. lucky you didn’t have to tell him twice. he couldn’t say no to you, a beautiful individual with a good head on your shoulders.

boxer!toji was endlessly throwing compliments at you the entire time as you tended to his bloody nose. “ do ya always look this pretty while fixing your patients up ? “ his word’s immediately went straight to your head. toji fushiguro was undoubtedly handsome, and huge in stature while you were just a tiny little thing. he smirked as you looked at him with a reddened face, toji knew what he was doing. “ awh cmon doll , you ain’t gotta be shy about it. “ at this point, he was just teasing you. “ just . . hold still “ was the only thing you managed to get out.

boxer!toji who gets jealous that others are in dire need of your care besides just him. someone who honed the same skill as you certainly wasn't uncommon but you ? you were the only one that toji allowed to actually touch him. you were just following up with another patient, geto suguru when toji walked in to see you wrapping up geto’s left hand. you didn’t even notice toji standing outside of the doorway until geto cleared his throat, causing you to look up from suguru’s limb. toji was already staring directly at you and now suguru. you’d be lying to say that his stare didn’t do things to you. “ oh toji .ᐟ i’ll be with you in just a mome— “ he didn’t give you time to finish “ i’ll come back later when you aren’t so busy with some lightweight. “ toji spat as he glared at geto before walking away. you quickly apologized to geto, finishing taping up his hand.

boxer!toji still remembers the first time he laid eyes on you. just staring at you from afar while you spoke to the chairman of the company, masamichi yaga. toji stared you and your body like a piece of meat. as shiu , toji’s manager was deep in conversation with him but the sorcerer killer had one thing on his mind. “ she’s too pretty to be working in a place like this “ he had spoken out loud. shiu’s eyes followed toji’s gaze which led him to you. perhaps even the contractor agreed in silence. you locked eyes with both men as you were stepping into your office for the evening, causing a small friendly smile to play on your lips while toji’s dark gaze seemed to burn a feeling into you that you just couldn’t shake off upon entering your new workspace.

boxer!toji who HATES losing. It makes him feel so small even though toji couldn’t be small even if he wanted to. especially with the most recent loss he had taken, It hit him hard. The media alone already hated him so this was only insult to injury for fushiguro. he just wasn’t able to understand it. if you thought he was embarrassed before, it just went up a couple notches. how did it all go so wrong ? not to mention, he had some nasty injuries to only add to his frustration. tonight’s scheduled fight went out of control in toji’s favor. toji was set to fight on ‘the strongest’ fighter , satoru gojo. the whole time you watched from backstage , just flinching everytime a punch was thrown or a kick was made. you could replay that brutal moment in your mind , that’s how explicit it was. a loud CRRAAACK was heard after satoru had thrusted his knee upwards into toji’s face. — ouch. you immediately knew something was wrong by the dazed expression displayed on toji’s face, his body falling limp.

boxer!toji was quickly rushed to your area as soon as possible by shiu, he was still in a hazed state of mind. mostly anger and confusion fizzled in his mind as you instructed him to sit. toji obeyed your orders & sat on the medical bench, now holding an ice pack to the giant laceration that skimmed the side of his head whilst staring blankly at the wall in-front of him in silence. shiu sighed at toji’s stillness before walking out of the medical area, leaving you to now look after toji. the medical room was just gasping for comfort , nothing but a thick and awkward tension lingered in the air. toji slowly turned his face towards you , almost emotionless. it was nerve wracking, you’d expect him to be yelling or just mouthing off but no. his pride was hurt to push you away , not this time.

boxer!toji who for once lets you tend to his needs without any trouble or bartering, he just couldn’t bring himself to say no to you again. even though he’s mentally punching himself for letting his guard down, but he really has no choice here. toji sure as hell wasn’t gonna go to an actual hospital to see what’s wrong with him. maybe it’s better for you anyways, you needed the hands on experience. “ just do what you have to do. . make it quick. “ he didn’t have to tell you twice. you stood up to change your gloves , he was now staring at you. his eyes raked down over your body before landing back onto your face , toji could feel your concern about him which made him feel guilty. . why ? who really knows ? the way toji’s mind works is complex. . he feels bad & guilty over things that he has zero control over.

boxer!toji blurts out “ i betcha think i’m weak , don’t you ? “ , it causes you to stop your movements and look at toji. “ what ? no toji , i don’t think you’re weak. . . “ trailing off on your words , your skilled hands proceed to fix up the gash on toji’s head. “ if anything , you’re everything but weak. not everyone can do this type of career , and not everyone can be toji fushiguro. if that was the case then there would be a million guys running in and out of that locker room . . you did good , but you can’t win them all. “ you words seemed to stick in toji’s mind for the rest of time you’ve spent fixing him up, the short exchange of words made the tension less apparent. soon enough you set toji on his way. “ please take it easy . . Be careful with your nose too , your lucky it wasn’t broken fushiguro. but i will need you to check in with me soon with that gash, keep it clean ! “

boxer!toji never did come back for his checkup during the next event. matter of fact , he didn’t even even show up for the next few events which caused you to worry. you go as far as waving down shiu and asking him what the hell was up. “ fushiguro says he is still recovering “ shiu reassured you that toji was fine. but you began to speculate that something else was going on, something deeper beyond your comprehension. but what could you do about it ? nothing. after all , you were just a medic. you’d nod at shiu before stepping away back into your office, groaning while you slowly shut the door behind you. . perhaps you were beginning to miss that hunk of a man a little too much.

boxer!toji who’s stalking your social media a little too hard during his ‘ recovery ‘. endless hours of his dark colored orbs staring at the screen of his phone , just scrolling away on your instagram. these pictures didn’t do you enough justice he thought , you were even better looking up close. little did toji know that you were doing the same thing. . you didn’t understand why people hated him. better yet , why on earth he didn’t have a significant other ? all the gym photos of him shirtless with a sheen of sweat covering over his torso and chest , it made your heart thump. the pool of arousal quickly making itself known in the pit of your stomach. . was this wrong ? you kept staring at the picture while your hand began to snake it’s way below the waistband of your shorts but you stopped once you realized you had accidentally liked the photo ! were trying to get a better grip of the phone in your shaky hands , your chest tightened with anxiety as you quickly unliked the photo. phew ! there’s no way he could see that you didn’t just like a photo of his from six months ago !

boxer!toji who did in fact see that you did in fact like a picture of him from six months ago. a low chuckle leaving his lips seeing the notification pop up on the upper half of the screen only for him to grin as he refreshed his notifications. — no notification. it disappeared. toji was cocky enough when it came to the effect he had on people in any manner. after seeing you doing the same mutual stalking that he was doing only 30 minutes ago caused all those feelings to rush to his raging length , restricting itself by the fabric of his sweatpants. toji was more than ready for his check up.

boxer!toji slowly sneaks into your office during the next event. it was quite early in the evening, not even all the fighters had arrived yet. but toji had something he needed to prioritize before making a complete comeback from his injury. you. while nobody is looking, not even you noticed him snaking his way through the door, quietly closing the door with a soft click.

while bent over , tidying up your area — a pair of large hands grip at your hips. causing a gasp to flee from your lungs. “ shhhh. it’s just me princess. “ you knew that voice , causing a shiver trickle it’s way down your spine. it was toji. slowly bending upwards, his lands kept a firm hold on your lower half. a quiet chuckle coming from the man behind you. “ toji , what are you doi– “ he didn’t even let you finish your sentence before one of his rough hands made its way up to your throat, giving it a light squeeze. quickly hushing you, toji presses his body against your backside while leaning down to your ear. “ someone’s been stalkin’ me late at night , hm ? “ fuck, he knew. “ we both know what you’re doing up at those hours of the night , don’t we ? “ as if he wasn’t doing the same exact thing , humiliation began to leech itself into your brain. how embarrassing ! the other thing you muttered out was a strangled “ m’ sorry ! i-it was wrong of me ! “ evidently your ‘sorry’ and honesty wasn’t much to toji, as now you found yourself bent over the medical bench with your leggings now carelessly tossed across your office, your arousal-soaked panties dragged down to your ankles, and your moans and whines being suppressed by one of toji’s hands covering your kiss bitten lips while he’s plunging in and out of your sopping cunt at an inhumane pace. “ you’re gonna take my cock as a thank you for fixin’ me up — fuuuuuck. “ the lewd squelching coming from between your legs bounced off of the walls as you moaned loudly into his palm, his thick length filling you beyond oblivion. even you were surprised by how he fit inside despite being fucked onto only two of his fingers before hand. “ mmmph ~ “ was the only thing you could manage to sputter out , toji was pounding you so hard. he was fucking you stupid. no coherent words , thoughts, dared to corrode your mind other than pure selfish pleasure that toji was bestowing onto you. “ pussy so fuckin’ tight , she’s pullin’ me in. “ he’d groan , looking down at where your bodies met. soaking in the image of your cunt gripping his cock like a vice. the cute noises escaping from your covered mouth seemed to be having an effect on toji as well. you could feel his grip only tighten and his thrusts become sloppier by the second while the coil in your stomach instantly snapped. you were cumming so hard , harder than any other pathetic ex partner of yours could ever manage. a string of noises left your body as your gummy walls convulsed & pulsated around toji’s throbbing length. “ hah — fuck ! makin’ a mess of you. “ was the last thing toji uttered out before his cock spasmed. toji grunted as his hand left your hip and landed hastily against the flesh of your ass. his seed painted your walls white. the warmth of his load earned a whimper, you could feel it seeping out of your aching heat. toji slowly retracted his hand from your mouth before slowly pulling out , watching your face contort into one of pleasure while his load dribbled down your inner thighs. “ i think i’ll need a check up more often, whaddya say ? “

ׂ⠀〝⠀⠀.. ⠀ ©dauntlessallure 24’ — please do not steal , publish , or post my work elsewhere or credit as your own .ᐟ

[really-burnt-toast]

Redesigning my COTL cast pt.1

HAHA I'm finally done! I only made busts tho bc Im lazy and Im not putting myself through drawing a size chart... YET.

It WILL come, just so I can show pretty outfits and show how ridiculous Leshy's hight is LOL

If you see any spelling mistakes, please ignore them <3

(more info and rambling under cut)

Here I'll write some more things relating to each character;

Lamb

Born in Darkwood to a single mother, their mom had named them Mellia after the flowers that grow there, since they had aided in striving off an illness she had during the pregnancy.

The Lamb grew up pretty happily despite being on the run. Their mother was eventually caught whilst they made an escape. During their years of hiding, they broke their leg during one particularly risky escape and were caught not long after.

Their number is 1.600.666 because I keep making a connection between Darkwood and Germany's Schwartzwald - there are 1.6 million sheep in Germany - so I decided to have that be the approximate number. 666 was just added for fun.

Their ear was tagged to keep track of how many sheep were caught in which realm. They just so happened to be the last to be executed. By mere coincidence.

They were born without horns and kinda made the crown shape into a set. It has the benefit that they can rip em off and use them as impromptu weapons.

Due to centuries of being treated as a tool for a prophecy and merely a vessel, their self esteem is downright horrid. Whilst they don't condone followers speaking ill of them, they pretty much let Narinder trample on their feelings up until they had snapped one day. In the end it did help them both, but it wasn't great it had to be taken to that point.

Extra: I added the vitiligo because when I imagine a human version, I couldn't help but see them as having Vitiligo. Their leg limp was made after I thought it would make them look more imposing seeing someone "weak" suddenly pull out a giant hammer.

Narinder

Found within a burning village under rubble, clutching a crown as war raged around them. He was found by Shamura and taken in.

He was the first to create resurrection and back then it was an EXTREMELY taxing ritual. It would require his own godly flesh to beckon people back to life - thus it would literally cause his skin and flesh to melt off his bones. Now that's not needed anymore but his body is still weak to it, meaning during certain stress factors, he can still become skeletal. He doesn't have scarring from it, but gained some cool markings.

He was bound by his arms, torso and neck - all of which are scarred. In the afterlife he was perpetually sitting, causing him to be paralyzed from the waist down. Once he was usurped he had to regain his ability to walk and was taken care of by the Lamb.

He was in a catatonic state for many years and it only got better gradually with many setbacks. For years he never left the bed and by the time his Siblings had been rescued, he had barely started going outside. He was also suffering from chronic pains which wasn't really helpful.

He's also very... Temperamental. It took him just as long to say anything nice to the Lamb and it took him extra long to see them as more than his vessel.

Extra: I changed his markings to be more like I had imagined them. The catatonic trait and chronic pain was added after the update and I remember how horrible it was having tendonitis and I wanted to channel my distaste into Narinder.

Shamura

Found and raised by the last gods, they weren't the greatest sibling. They may have taken in the others but it took them a long time to be anything other than cold. With Kallamar, Shamura was distant and strict - then with Narinder they attempted to be less harsh after the kid started crying himself to sleep. With Heket and Leshy they got less and less cold. They tried their best, they'd argue.

They got carried away by their feelings as they had feared at the start and that's when the first prophecy came to them. They had kept it hidden for way too long until the balance of the crown's powers were ripping at the seams due to Narinder's pursuit in power - and they made a decision. They had told Kallamar first. Then Heket and Leshy were brought in.

Stuff happened. Now they are barely coherent and at most have an hour or two at a time where they seem to make sense. Leshy stays with them the most. Kallamar takes care of them. Heket takes care of the rest. Their skull is caved in, they lost an eye and limbs - some of the damages can't be hidden by bandages.

There's also this thing that their crown keeps getting out of control whilst trying to keep their mind stable - sometimes they'll get startled - attempt to form a weapon and instead end up with their arm speared through. They have scarring all over their body from it.

Upon recruitment they are pretty overwhelmed. Their crown can't stop them from breaking anymore and they have gotten so used to godhood that mortality now feels like they are literally rotting alive. They can feel their body wasting away.

Only after getting their relic back do they start becoming more independent and stable. They nowadays go through some sort of rehab to try and regain their sense of self.

Extra: Not much was added. I wanted to give them Glasses but I can't for the life of me draw them with a pair... So Ill just say they have them but not show them LOL

Kallamar

His past is basically forgotten. It sorta slipped away since he hadn't deemed it fit to be remembered. At first he had MANY fights with Shamura, then it ceased after a confrontation turned violent which left him with a bad scar.

He had to take care of his younger siblings whilst coming to terms with godhood - filling in whenever Shamura wasn't physically or mostly emotionally unavailable. For a long time he was the only one that could comfort his ailing siblings. Dealing with that sort of made him pretty easily agitated.

When Shamura proposed the plan, he had been hesitant - but ultimately didn't say anything.

Now he takes care of his siblings medically. He hates himself more than he hates anyone else and as much as he is quick to condemn and betray Shamura - he is also quick to condemn himself. Though maybe not as enthusiastically or openly.

He likes to compensate. Giving gifts to request forgiveness - grand displays of favoritism or mainly decking himself and his multiple spouses out with Jewels. He still keeps his wedding rings around his neck and his earring references his siblings.

Funnily enough, he caused the least troubles to the Lamb. They could argue he even seemed relieved after a short while of staying in the cult.

Extra: Added Jewelry and two tentacles because he looked naked without them.

Heket

Loudmouth frog that when found with her crown, she started trying to fight Shamura - insulting whatever parent they had. She kept threatening to poison them too.

In the lineup of her siblings, she was often the one who took the sidelines. If she was happy, she was left alone. If she was displeased, she'd let herself known. The most uncomplicated of the siblings.

You'd almost miss how every other bishop would seek her out when help was needed. While Shamura helped with godhood and Kallamar with emotional needs - Heket was a good person to pester with anything else. She'd handle it - just let big sis do it. Even if she was the second youngest - it's funny how even Kallamar and Narinder would occasionally use the nickname.

Then when everyone else was dealing with their wounds, she picked up the pace and kept their respective cults from falling apart. She handled Silk cradle until Shamura could - helped with Darkwood and took over Anchordeep when Kallamar was tending to the others. No problem.

She was still loud when entering the cult. Not as much as her brother - but she loved to cause scenes. Her muteness didn't seem to hinder her at all with that. She's not allowed near knives but somehow can handle axes?

Her temper problems don't get better. She just stops being an asshole about it.

She prefers having scarfs covering her neck bandages whilst they're all bloody and disgusting.

Extra: Nothing because Heket is already perfect.

Leshy

Literally a weird insect that kept clinging to the crown until it grew big enough to hold in one hand. It bit anything that got close and by the time Shamura found it - he had started eating small critters.

And god, he kept growing and growing until he wasn't a small worm in Shamura's hand but literally too big to fit through most doors. They suspected he'd grow until the end of time. Or well, now since his crown is gone.

He never listens. He screams for fun and overshares the worst details to the point he manages to break his siblings into just accepting anything he talks about. They can't even scold him or punish him since Leshy always finds a way to make things worse for anyone else but himself.

He also copies everyone. First it was Heket's tone. Then it was Narinder's behavior - now he started growing flowers and vine braids to make fun of Kallamar and his antlers were at first a crude mimic of Shamura's pedipalps and now they grow vines to be similar to the jewels hanging from them. He refuses to acknowledge doing so.

He's very clingy. After locking away Narinder, he stayed with Shamura every day until they were out of bed rest. He follows his siblings around and when he does give them a second to breathe - hes probably laying around in Darkwood instead of doing anything productive. He does tends to plants occasionally, but he prefers "to let chaos do its thing" - as if that means anything.

He makes for a great gardener after he stopped trying to break everything upon recruitment. And once he got over growling at every living thing - he actually became one of the most well liked people living there.

Leshy knows exactly what someone needs and somehow finds a way to achieve that with the littlest of efforts. It's the thought that counts.

Extra: Braid and vines because I thought Leshy would look cute with it.

Special: The 4 bishops all wear old faith themed robes, but Shamura got the elder clothes for comfort and Leshy kept tearing his clothes apart so he is not permanently excluded from having any special outfits as punishment. Narinder wears fancy robes (who happen to be loose and warm while being special - otherwise he'd complain)

The Lamb wears one of the leaked fleeces since I loved the red riding hood aesthetic.

In the end this turned more into biographies than actual explanations but its 3:30am, Im sleep deprived and I wanted to get my thoughts out because I start having memory problems again YIPPEE

[arecaceae175]

Hello! I noticed that some of your fics on Ao3 are tagged "Screen Reader Friendly," and I wondered what makes a fic screen reader friendly. Is it just about formatting, or does content matter too?

Hi, thank you so much for asking this question!!! Disclaimer I am not visually impaired so all of this information I have learned by seeing blind or visually impaired people talk about this issue.

It’s primarily formatting! I’ll list everything I do to try to make my fics accessible here.

Line breaks!!! Use the ao3 line break code instead of adding a bunch of symbols. This is the biggest thing I had to change once I realized my fics were not screen reader friendly.

HOWEVER some screen readers won’t pick up on the horizontal line, either. Another good option is to use a short series of symbols, for example: “~~” or “- - -“

Basically, just don’t use more than three symbols in a row. I used to use “~~~/\~~~” with a delta symbol in the middle to look like the triforce, but a screen reader would see that and say “asterisk asterisk asterisk delta asterisk asterisk asterisk” which is pretty annoying lol

Most screen readers don’t differentiate between regular text and bold/italics. It’s fine to have those in your story, but if the bold/italics significantly changes the plot or the implications of a sentence then it is not screen reader friendly

Screen readers can’t describe a line break that is just an empty space. For example, in one of my fics I have a character reading a note, and I have an extra ‘return button’ space before and after the note to make the note distinct from the rest of the text. To make that fic more screen reader friendly, instead of just an empty space, I wrote “[Line Break]”. That way, a screen reader can say “line break”, and readers still recognize it as a line break

If you have any sort of chat fic (AND this goes for hashtags on tumblr too!) with screen names, be sure to distinguish the separate words in the screen name. You can do this with by capitalizing the first letter of each word like this “ScreenNameHere” or with dashes in between each word “screen-name-here”. That helps screen readers and also people with things like dyslexia who have trouble distinguishing words if they aren’t capitalized or separated in some way.

Screen readers can read image emojis like this smiley face 😁 because they have embedded alt text, but they can’t read text emojis as an emoji, like this one “:D”. If you use any of those in your fic, add a description like this: “ :D [Image description: text emoji of a smiley face with a big, open mouthed smile. End description].”

Also, this one doesn’t have to do with a screen reader, but if you have an image embedded in your story, keep these things in mind:

Be sure to describe the image so anyone who is blind or visually impaired can still experience the image. I don’t think it’s possible to add alt text to the actual image, so I usually put this below the image: “[Image ID: description of the image. Note the important details, but be as concise as you can. /End ID]”. Including the image description instead of some sort of alt text is good for DeafBlind people who can’t see the image well enough but don’t use a screen reader.

Some blind or visually impaired people don’t use a screen reader and instead zoom in on the text. If an image is embedded in the story, be sure it is sized correctly. If it isn’t, it can make scrolling sideways to read zoomed in text more difficult because it makes the webpage much wider than the text itself.

Not all my fics have the screen reader friendly tag because 1. There might be a few I haven’t updated yet, and 2. I didn’t include the tag on fics that have weird formatting or are accent heavy. For example, in Kinship I wrote Twilight’s dialogue to represent his strong accent, and those kinds of things with apostrophes and half-words don’t come through well with a screen reader.

I personally don’t think it’s good practice to include a ton of apostrophes or shortened words to distinguish an accent. Even for people not using screen readers, it’s hard to read. For me, if I see a fic with things like that, I won’t read it. Maybe try having a few words that the character’s accent comes through on, or write something about their heavy accent outside of the dialogue.

The “Screen Reader Friendly” tag isn’t an officially recognized AO3 tag yet, but the more people who use it, the sooner it will be!

Those are all the things I can think of right now. If anyone has any other tips to add, please do so!!

[owliellder]

Two's A Crowd

College Bully! Leon Kennedy x fem! Reader

MDNI 18+

(Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5)

Description: College is proving to be a lot harder than you imagined. You cannot fail this math class. So when you've tried everything else, a well-known student is recommended to you by your professor for tutoring lessons, not really leaving you with much of a choice but to work with him.

Warnings: Not proofread, No Use of Y/N, Dub-Con, Unprotected Sex, Bullying, Yelling, Cursing

Tags: College AU, Bully! Leon, Shy! Reader, both are in their early 20's, Leon is Rude AF in the beginning, Loss of Virginity, Oral Sex, Fingering, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Additional Tags to be Added

Author's Note: Yay!! New multi-chapter fic in honor of 800 followers!!

I'm a sucker for tropes and mean Leon is one I can't keep out of my head. If you're not good at math then this is the fic for you! (also don't mind me slipping some Sky lore in here...)

Cross-posted onto AO3

Chapter 1

Growing up, college had always been a big dream of yours, leaving you fantasizing day in and out about all the possibilities that would open up, along with actually getting to live through the renowned “college experience”.

In reality, college was a lot harder than you were expecting. Your parents had told you to jump right into it after high school, fearing taking a gap year would ruin your good streak. The stress was starting to get to you and it was only a semester into your freshman year. All the tests, projects, and general studying really wore down on your mental health, not to mention you were failing the one math class you had.

You couldn’t tell your parents, no, they’d probably have a heart attack, especially since that math class was a prerequisite to another class that you needed to take. They were already worried enough that you hadn’t picked a major yet, so who knows how they’d take the news that you were failing right off the bat.

It was hard enough that you were feeling homesick. This was the first time you’d ever been this far away from home, studying at a university when you would’ve been perfectly content going to a community college closer to home. Your roommate was nice, but the two of you weren’t growing any closer than mere acquaintances, so it always felt awkward to just exist in your own dorm room.

Your eating habits worsened with the lack of any real food within five miles of campus. Sure there were a couple fast food chains on the campus itself, but they closed incredibly early. By the time you finished studying, which was around six in the evening, it had already closed. Not to mention that when they were open, the lines were comically long. University food was out of the question after you got violently ill from their “chicken nuggets”, so you were left with the little money your parents provided once a week to order takeout or make quick trips to the store to buy a frozen meal. Only one, since the mini fridge in your dorm was almost always occupied by your roommates stuff.

Everything was so exhausting and you were way out of your comfort zone having to use the community bathrooms for all your hygienic routines. Walking in always made you feel like you were interrupting a meeting in the president’s oval office with how many nasty looks you were given when all you were trying to do was brush your teeth.

The first thing you saw whenever you opened up Canvas was a massive F staring you down from the little box that comprised the majority of your math assignments and tests, making you feel less than worthless. This one semester alone helped you understand why so many people dropped out, this was hard.

By now you’d already gone to your math professor multiple times asking for redos or extra credit work. He was probably sick of seeing you since you showed up after almost every single assignment’s grades were submitted.

“Heeeyyy, Mr. Lebovic..” You said after knocking your knuckle against his open door to grab his attention. “Listen, about that last quiz, I-”

He cut you off with a wave of his hand before gesturing towards one of the chairs sitting in front of his desk. You hurried to sit down, watching nervously as he slowly pulled his eyes off his computer and onto you. “I get it, you don’t need to explain yourself.” His relaxed tone and faint smile was enough to ease your nerves a bit, letting your shoulders slump with a sigh. “You’ve been trying really hard, I can easily recognize that.”

You nodded eagerly, licking your dry lips as you opened your mouth to speak, only to be cut off again. “I’ve been looking into studying options that might help you. Resources are scarce for this material, but I think I finally have a tutor to help you out.” 

A wave of relief washed over you at the mention of tutor. Maybe you wouldn’t have to face the wrath of your parent’s disappointment after all! “Oh.. o-okay…” you stuttered, eyebrows furrowing as you silently beckoned him to continue.

“I teach another math class, it’s higher level, but I have a student in there that’s just taken up tutoring the material you’re learning.” Your professor seemed just as happy as you were about the opportunity. “His name is Leon Kennedy, he’s got one of the study rooms in the library from three to five in the afternoon on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays.”

It took you a second to process everything Mr. Lebovic was telling you before you scrambled to pull out a sticky note and a pen to write all the information down on. You heard the older man chuckle softly, looking over at him when he held out a small piece of paper to you. “I wrote it down already for you, don’t worry.” You wished you could’ve thanked him tenfold, but his office hours were closed for the day now, so you said a quick goodbye and hurried back to your dorm, holding onto the piece of paper like a lifeline.

Contrary to what your math professor thinks, you knew the name “Leon Kennedy”. You had a couple friends that you hung out with occasionally out in the grass in front of the science building and they’d brought him up before. The few vague bits of info that you’d heard weren’t flattering, painting this Leon in quite a bad light; the stereotypical jock in a frat flying by on a full-ride scholarship. However, he was your saving grace now and you needed to develop more of an unbiased opinion of him if he was going to help you raise your grade from an F.

“Yeesh, sorry I’m not better at math or I would’ve helped you.” One of your friends, Sky, spoke up as they read the piece of paper your professor gave you yesterday from over your shoulder. “Even if you were better at math, I still wouldn’t trust you.” Ella, your other friend, laughed out.

“Ha ha, yeah, Sky failed math four times. Big whoop.” Sky waved their hands dramatically before walking over to sit down next to Ella in the dead grass. “Seriously though, you’re better off taking a failing grade and dealing with your parents. Kennedy is the devil incarnate.”

“The devil incarnate sounds easier to put up with than my parents, so I’ll take my chances..” You grumbled, taking a seat on a medium-sized rock close to the pair. “Maybe he’s turning a new leaf? Deciding to tutor?” 

Sky crossed her arms and rolled her eyes which made Ella elbow them in the side before giving you a sympathetic smile. “Maybe so, but please just be careful. I don’t want you having to put up with some jackass that has an ego bigger than Texas.” 

You nodded with a slight frown, moving your foot side to side lazily to push the grass blades around. You didn’t even think to consider the repercussions of studying with some random junior. “I’m sure it’ll be alright. Besides, just tell Sky and I if he’s giving you any trouble. I know damn well no man likes to put up with two women yelling in his face.” Sky nodded and pointed to Ella for added dramatics. “Yeah, and I bite. My top six teeth are porcelain so that shit hurts. Trust me.”

Your friends never failed to make you laugh, a slight resolve in a pool full of worries, you suppose. “Don’t worry, you guys’ll be the first to know if Leon is mean.”

“Good. Now, when’re you gonna go see the guy?” Sky rested their arms on their knees before looking up at you. “Uh.. in a couple hours I guess. I already made the appointment.” Your response seemed to surprise both of your friends, giving them a confused look in response to their shocked ones. “Is that.. Is that not a good time?”

“No no, just.. I thought you would’ve maybe taken a little longer to go and see him.” Ella shrugged, reaching a hand up to scratch behind their neck. “Proud of you, taking the initiative like that.” She then looked at her phone before pulling herself off the ground with a small groan. “I got class in a couple minutes. Good luck with the frat boy.” 

She patted your shoulder as she walked off towards the larger building on campus, leaving you and Sky alone for the rest of the time. Part of you wished both of your friends could walk you to the library when the time came, but having Sky was enough. “So.. Leon’s bad bad?” You needed a bit more clarification on the guy you were going to spend one-on-one time with, something to calm you down after running through countless scenarios in your head.

“He’s not all bad, 'least I don't think. I’ve exchanged a few ‘hello’s’ and ‘excuse me’s’ with him here and there since we apparently frequent the same building.” Sky scooted over to the rock you were sitting on, placing the back of their head on your legs. A couple brown leaves blew over from a nearby tree which they grabbed and crunched with their hand. “I haven’t personally experienced any bad happenings around him, but he is part of a pretty notoriously rowdy frat, so you have to promise me that you’ll only study with him on campus and never go to that frat house or any frat house in general, alright?”

Sky pointed up at you, poking the underside of your chin which made you laugh again and swat their hand away. “As much as I rave about wanting to have the stereotypical college experience, going to a frat house was never part of my daydreaming.”

“Good. Keep it that way.” They switched their fingers to give you a quick thumbs up before letting their arm flop down into their lap, eyes closing with a sigh. “Anyways, besides all that, wanna go get some food? I don’t have another class today and you’ve got about an hour and a half to spare, so actually you have no choice. Get up.”

You stood up with a shake of your head once Sky pushed off of your legs who stood up as well with a small stretch. “Don’t burn me at the stake, but I kinda want grocery store sushi. I’m feeling lucky.”

“Please don’t.” You sighed, pocketing the piece of paper before beginning to follow behind Sky as they started to walk across the grass. 

After the two of you shared a sandwich from some random shop not too far off campus, Sky walked with you up to the library, stopping just before the front desk. They agreed to not wander in with you under the condition that you’ll go to their dorm straight after to discuss details.

To say you were nervous was an understatement. Most of what you heard about this guy meant he was bad news, though you really didn’t have much of a choice when it came to seeing him. Like your math professor said, there weren’t a lot of options when it came to studying the material you were learning. Sure you had the internet and other students in the class, but you preferred the idea of a tutor since you’d already exhausted yourself trying to follow along with various youtube videos. You needed the in-person teaching, it just stuck better in your head that way.

Slowly starting to walk, you made your way over to the study rooms lining the back of the library. The rooms seemed pretty private with the only window being on the door, which had glass nearly top to bottom. Thankfully the rooms were numbered and Leon had texted you which room to go to when you made the appointment with him, you had no idea what he looked like and you didn’t want to look like a creep eyeballing people through the door until you hopefully found the right person.

Standing off to the side, you could see the number you were looking for sitting above the door, taking a brief moment to collect yourself and hype yourself up to talk to someone who didn’t have the greatest reputation. Set aside everything you’ve heard and just hope for the best..

You took in a deep breath as you strode over to the door, glancing inside through the window before knocking to let him know you were there. The table was angled off more to the left so you didn’t immediately see him until he leaned over the table to see who had knocked. Confidence left you as soon as you made eye contact with Leon due to the groan you could hear through the door. It took you a couple seconds, but you eventually managed to get your body to work with you, hand turning the handle to let yourself in.

“-the last thing I need..” You caught the end of his little rant to himself as you opened the door. The saying “fake it ‘till you make it” is harder than it sounds since your entire body decided to betray you, deciding that shrinking in was the best move. Quietly, you shuffled over to sit across from him at the table, placing your backpack in your lap in some weird way to provide comfort in this situation.

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Leon grumbled, sitting far back in the tilted chair as his feet lifted the front end of the chair slightly. His arms were crossed and he was giving you probably the nastiest look you’ve ever seen, next to your parents, of course. All you did was sit there giving him a blank stare. It was obvious what he’d said, yet the sheer forwardness of that snide comment had you more than confused. “What?-”

“You weren’t supposed to show up.” Apparently he felt the need to repeat himself with some added bite, barely letting you get a word in. “No one ever shows up to these shitty tutor- whatever the fucks.”

Wow. Okay. “Uh..” You didn’t even know what to say to that. It completely caught you off guard. You’d run through countless ways this interaction would go in your head, but this wasn’t one of those ways. The two of you sat in a very tense silence with Leon just glaring at you from across the table, continuing to rock back and forth in the chair.

Without uncrossing his arms, Leon lifted a hand and waved it around slightly while shaking his head. “Are you actually still gonna sit here orrr…?” The sound of his voice finally snapped you out of shock, causing you to shoot your gaze down to your backpack, fumbling with its partially broken zipper. “I-.. Mr. Lebovic recommended you..?”

You pulled out a few of your failed assignments from your bag before setting them down on the table with shaky hands, keeping your eyes glued to the papers to avoid that burning stare the man in front of you has. “I need-.. I need help..?”

“Do you?” Leon let the chair fall forward, his sarcastic tone starting to make your whole body tremble. “You don’t sound like you do.” He snatched one of your assignments from the table and held it up, pursing his lips as he studied the various red marks made on it closely. You chose to not respond to that, letting your hands rest on top of your backpack so you had something to squeeze.

He turned the page around, the sound of the paper wobbling the only thing you could hear right after the sound of the central heat blowing through the vent in the room. Suddenly, Leon started chuckling to himself, shaking his head incredulously as he flipped the paper back and forth a couple times before letting it fall back to the table. “This is terrible!” His laugh grew louder as he tilted his body to the side to pull out his phone, taking a picture of the assignments you’d put on the table. 

How on earth were you supposed to react to that other than just sitting quietly? He was actually making fun of you right to your face. Hell, he might as well point and laugh if he’s going to be this brasen. 

The most you could muster up was a quiet yet high-pitched “... huh?” in response to him. This whole ordeal was spiraling a little too fast for you to keep up with. You were expecting to put up with some grown man with a bratty attitude or even just a very uninterested, not all there jock with how Leon’s been described to you, not blatant bullying.

“Huh?” He mocked, taking one last look at his phone while loudly sucking on his teeth before pocketing it again. “Anyways, this is actually sad. How are you managing to fuck simple math up like this?” He roughly grabbed all the papers on the table and stacked them before partially tossing them back at you, some slipping onto the floor. “You’re too far gone, even I can’t fix that.”

You let out a gasp when the papers were tossed at your face, scrambling to catch some of them. Pushing the chair back, you leaned over to grab the few that fell on the floor, desperately holding back tears. “Please, you don’t understand.” You pleaded, voice cracking as you tried your best not to start crying in front of him. “I-I need to pass this class. I’m passing everything else, I just can’t keep up with this one!” You were speed-talking to try and argue your case, sitting back up with the small pile of papers that you struggled to stack properly.

Leon started rocking back in his chair again, arms back across his chest as he watched you with squinted eyes. The corners of his lips soon turned up into a smirk, taking in your sorry state before rolling his eyes with a dramatic groan. “Alright, alright, stop whining, jesus..” He cleared his throat, letting his head fall over the back of the chair. “I’ll help you only because I feel bad for you.” It’s not like he was going to admit that he was being forced to be a tutor, no one needs leverage over him like that

You couldn’t help but give a small smile despite his implication. It was a start. “And I’m not gonna do it today, either.” Well, the sooner the better, but still, it’s a start.

He then stood up from the chair, fixing his jacket with a sigh. “If you show up even a minute late on Friday, I’m not helping” and before you even had a chance to reply, he walked out of the room, the door shutting with a slam which made you flinch. Luckily, you were a very punctual person when it came to this kind of stuff. This was important, so if you had to show up early, so be it. You hurriedly shoved your assignments back into your backpack, not even fully zipping it up before rushing out of the study room, back through the library, and to the dorms.

“He said that?!” Sky yelled, quickly wiping their hand over their mouth to quiet themself once you shushed them. “I don’t really feel comfortable with you going to another ‘study session’ with that guy if he’s just gonna bully you.”

“I wouldn’t call it bullying-”

“He was bullying you.”

“OKAY! So what if he was?!” You fell back onto Sky’s bed with a sigh, arms splayed out with your legs dangling off the side. “I can handle it. As long as I get my grade up, who cares?”

Sky sat down next to you on their bed, giving you a sad look as you sat yourself up with your elbows. “I care. So does Ella. You shouldn’t put up with that just for a grade. I’m sure if you explain to your professor and-”

“And what? Tell him that I’m a grown woman getting bullied over something I should know by now?” You sat yourself up fully now, leaning forward to place your elbows on your thighs as your head rested in your hands. “It’s only until finals are over and we’re already halfway through October. Maybe I won’t even need that much time, maybe I’m just missing one simple… math move and it’ll get the gears in my brain moving again.”

You tilted your head to the side to look at Sky, head now resting only in your right hand as you took in their annoyed look. “Trust me. I can handle this.”

“If you say so.” They ran their fingers through her hair before looking away from you, directing their attention forward to stare off at nothing. “Just remember that I bite and I’m not afraid to use my fake chompers on that no good-”

“I don’t wanna think about escalations right now, but thank you.” You chuckled, playfully nudging Sky with your free hand before moving it back to hold your head up with the other. Though you were trying to convince Sky on this, you were mostly just trying to convince yourself that you could handle this. Handle Leon and his.. alluring charm..

Only until finals, maybe even sooner.

[bwabys-scenarios]

Can we see a chubby!reader who maybe doesn't know that Feitan is part of the phantom troupe, so she doesn't think Feitan can carry her but then he proves her wrong (maybe with a little bit of angst because she's self conscious, and then comfort because Feitan loves that there's more of her)

Idk if that made sense

Perfect

Feitan x Chubby!Fem!Reader

!!REBLOGS APPRECIATED!!

A/N: another short one… but I like it!! Join my server !!

warnings: insecure reader, a bit of internalized misogyny

SFW: @lightshowerrr @jungtoast @nenggie @aliceattheart @atransmuter

‼️If you want to be added to the taglist, please check out the taglist information then comment what you want to be added to! Make sure you have your age in your bio and that your blog can be tagged/mentioned!‼️

You had been dating Feitan for nearly a year now, and you still knew so little about him. His whereabouts while he was out of town were a mystery to you, and you had no idea what he did for work. All you did know was that he didn’t have a normal job.

When you jokingly asked him if he was in the mafia, he scoffed. “Mafia bunch of puss- wimps. Not part of it, not by long shot.”

You were a little perturbed by his answer, but couldn’t help laughing at the way he censored himself for your sake. He seemed to see you as some kind of delicate princess, closer to a porcelain doll than human. Feitan was always extremely gentle when touching you, his hands almost hesitant when making contact with your skin.

This was something you didn’t understand. Throughout your life, people viewed you as bigger, tougher, when in reality you were quite easily hurt, both physically and mentally. The topic of your weight had been a sore subject…

But your Fei wasn’t really good with reading social cues.

“Eat good. Here, for big girl.”

You stared at your boyfriend as he used his chopsticks to drop an extra egg roll on your plate. In your mind, you know he meant nothing by it. He was friends with larger people like Uvogin who ate tons to keep up his strength and figure.

But your heart felt hurt. You pushed your plate away and huffed. “Hmph.”

He was bad about assuming things, even if you knew it Feitan wasn’t being malicious, it still hurt your feelings when he assumed random things because of your body type.

But what you didn’t know, was that Feitan wasn’t assuming anything. You were his girlfriend, he had to provide for you and make sure you ate well. In meteor city, having meat on your bones usually meant you were well taken care of, and all he wanted to do was make sure you ate.

Feitan, though… he wasn’t good at communicating that. Or communicating at all, really, so he just stared as you pushed away the food. He scoffed, slightly offended that you turned down his offer.

“Why huff? Being brat.”

You sniffled, standing up and storming off. Feitan wouldn’t let this slide, he hated seeing you upset.

The dark haired man caught your wrist, squeezing with just enough force to catch your attention. “Why act like this? Made you mad?”

You pouted, puffing out your chubby cheeks. “Mmph… it’s embarrassing. You’re thin and I’m not… aren’t girls supposed to be dainty and small? Isn’t that what you would prefer, someone you could easily pick up?”

You wiped the tears from your eyes, not daring to look back at your lover.

But you didn’t have to look, because he turned you around and began lifting you with ease. Once you were in the air, he held onto your ass, squeezing softly. You squeaked and immediately wrapped your plump thighs around his waist for support, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“See? Easy. My little bunny.”

He held you in his arms, not straining or struggling in the slightest. It was like you weighed nothing at all to him and it was… relieving.

“Can’t understand? You… are mine.”

He huffed, sitting down with you in his lap, his arms wrapped around your waist. “We clear?”

You snuggled him, burying your teary face into his neck. “Yeah…”

Feitan tried to be a bit more sensitive with you after that, and made it a point to carry you around and show you off to his friends. It was a little embarrassing… but you felt loved and beautiful.

And that was all you needed.

[bestanimal]

~ Round 1 is currently underway, with Mollusca in the lead! ~

On a quest to find Tumblr’s favorite animal!

(Pictured is my personal favorite animal: the bearded vulture! Photo was taken by me… if you want to see more I post my photography on my instagram: SaritaWolf ;P)

Ever wondered how your favorite animal stacks up against other people’s favorites? Well you’ve come to the right place!

Here’s how this will work…

Polls will be ranked like so:

My fav is in this group!/This is one of my favorite animals!

I love these/this animal(s)

I like these/this animal(s)

I am neutral about these/this animal(s)

I dislike these/this animal(s)

I hate these/this animal(s)

If an animal is your favorite, it receives 5 points

If you love an animal, it receives 3 points

If you like an animal, it receives 1 point

If you are neutral about an animal, no points are added or subtracted to its ranking

If you dislike an animal, 1 point will be taken away

If you hate an animal, 3 points will be taken away

At the end of a polling period, that animal’s points will be its rank.

The top 20 or 50 or 100 or whatever (number to be decided on at a later date) will move on to the next round!

Polls will be open for 7 days

Since it’s not very feasible for me to make 1.5 million polls for every known species of animal, the first round of polls will be by Phylum, the next round will be by Class, then Order, then Family, then Genus, and then Species.

If you want your favs to make it to the top, make sure you know what group they’re in! This can be found via a quick Wikipedia search and a look-see right here (using the bearded vulture as an example):

The Bearded Vulture is in the Phylum Chordata, the Class Aves/Reptilia, the Order Accipitriformes, and the Genus Gypaetus, so now I know to vote for that group as my favorite when it comes up!

The top ranked Phyla will move on to the next round, where they will then be split into Classes, and Round 2 will begin.

Round 3 will take the winning classes and split them by Order, then follow the same pattern.

Round 4 will take the winning orders and split them by Family, then follow the same pattern.

Round 5 will take the winning families and split them by Genus, then follow the same pattern.

Round 6 will take the winning genera and split them by Species, then follow the same pattern.

The Ultimate Round will pit the top 20/50/100 (number also to be decided at a later date) species against each other.

If no clear photos exist of a species, it will not be included in the polls. (So, if you’re a scientist who just discovered a new moth and it’s your favorite animal you better get those photos on iNaturalist quick)

You can have multiple favorites, I am not keeping track of that, but I do ask that you answer honestly!

I will add a bit of propaganda under a cut on each poll, but please feel free to reblog polls and add your own! If you want your fav(s) to win, these polls need to be seen by lots of people!

I do encourage people to not vote blindly. Look at the photos, read the propaganda, maybe even do your own research before you decide how you feel about an animal!

And lastly, please keep things civil! We all have different tastes and someone hating your fav is not a personal affront against you!

That being said, we do not “Kill it with fire” here. It’s ok to not like an animal, but we do not tolerate people calling for violence against a species or wishing a whole species extinct.

Important Tags:

#Animal Polls: All main polls

#Poll Results: Completed polls will be reblogged along with their calculated ranking

#Special Poll: Any extra polls

#Extra Propaganda: Any reblogged propaganda added by voters

#Statistics: A stats post will be posted after each round

#Asks: For any responses to asks (my askbox is open!)

#FAQ: For questions that may come up often

#Extras: For any announcement posts, reblogs, etc

[loudstan]

Perfect Little Toy

Summary: Mark was looking forward to meeting his mate, but he was not expecting to find her in a sex shop.

Pairing: Werewolf! Mark x Witch! Female reader

Warnings: smut, some angst, magic potions used during sex I guess? also this is way longer than my other fics sorry

 Mark should have known better. But when Haechan asked him to go shopping with him, never in a million years did he think they would end up in a sex shop.

“Dude, I don’t wanna go in there,” he hissed, trying to break free from Haechan’s unrelenting grip on his arm.  Haechan pulled harder, whining vociferously. “S-stop! People are watching,” Mark whispered urgently, trying to hide his face from the curious bystanders.

“What’s the big deal?”Haechan rolled his eyes.

“You could have ordered stuff like this online!” Mark sighed, reluctantly letting himself be dragged into the eye-catching store. “It’s weird to come here together.”

“It’s only weird if you make it weird,” Haechan shrugged, walking to the nearest shelf and inspecting the x-rated shaped toys on display. “We are bros, aren’t we? Remember when you wanted to get a fortune telling reading but didn’t want to go alone? Who went with you?”

“Okay, first of all, you can’t possibly compare fortune telling to vibrators,” Mark argued, slapping Haechan’s hand away when it playfully brought a pink dildo uncomfortably close to Mark’s face. “Secondly, you literally found your mate in that shop, so you should be thanking me.”

“Well, maybe you’ll find your mate in here,” Haechan said.

“Very funny,” Mark deadpanned, offended at the mere suggestion of meeting his destined partner in such a lewd place. “Oh, shit I made eye contact with an employee, fuck he’s coming this way-”

“Hi, welcome to Pandora’s Box. My name is Jeonghan,” said a young man with dark hair and a bored expression as he pointed at the name tag on his shirt. “How can I help you today? Is there anything specific you’re looking for?”

“Hey,man!” Haechan greeted. “You see, my girl and I have a lot of sex-”

“Sure you do,” Jeonghan’s plain voice replied. If only he got paid extra for every time he heard that. 

“But she’s human and I’m a werewolf. I’m afraid I’m too big down there for her, you know?” Haechan continued with an arrogant smirk, pointing at his crotch just for extra clarification, Mark cringing behind him.

“Right,”said Jeonghan, clearly unimpressed. Again, if he got paid for each guy who said they were too big. “If you want to train her for your size, then we have some bigger models over here,” he offered, walking the two customers to a shelf with exotic looking silicone dicks. He shoved a massive  neon green dildo into Haechan’s hands.“This one was molded after a head alpha. It comes with a remote to simulate a knot,” he said as he pressed a button on the remote and  the phallic toy started growing in the werewolf's hands, who was in obvious shock. This was Jeonghan’s favorite part of his job: humbling men who thought they were the shit, when it goes without saying that there’s always a bigger dildo that can do a better job. “It glows in the dark,” he added, biting back a smile.

“Cool,”Haechan breathed out, trying not to show how much they had hurt his ego and ignoring Mark’s snort. “Uh–I’m not sure about the… the color, yeah,” There was no way he was buying a toy bigger than him. “Do you maybe have, uh–...something else? Maybe a potion or something that makes it less painful for her?” He added before that Jeonghan guy tried to show him another colossal toy.

 Jeonghan put the toy back on the shelf and lifted his eyebrows as he seemed to think about it for a second. “I guess a potion would work, yeah…This way, please,” he instructed, taking a very embarrassed Haechan and a now amused Mark to a different section of the shop, hidden behind some dark curtains. “Hey, Y/N! Do you have anything to make werewolf penetration more enjoyable for humans?” he asked loudly as they entered a small room decorated with tons of colorful potion jars and  illuminated by candles. 

 At first Mark choked at the employee’s vulgar words and coughed awkwardly. Then a sweet and fresh scent invaded his nostrils, making him freeze. He let out a shaky breath and inhaled once again, letting the summer-like scent fill his lungs and his brain go fuzzy, his eyes trying to focus on the source of such heavenly stimulation. There you were, the most beautiful woman Mark had ever laid eyes on, wearing an employee uniform and your hair tied up neatly not to get in the way of your job. You had stopped mixing a bubbly lilac potion in a cauldron to listen to Jeonghan and help him solve Haechan’s problem. And god, your voice was so melodic, Mark had no idea what you were talking about but he could listen to you forever.

“So this would make her produce as much slick as an omega in heat?” Haechan was fascinated, staring at an expensive looking potion in an elegant jar. 

“Well, not automatically,” you replied. “It will depend on how aroused she is. If you can’t  turn her on, it won’t help you.”

“So you’re telling me,” Haechan insisted, overconfidently. “That she’ll have no way to hide how turned on she is?” he was already thinking of how cute his girlfriend would look when she’s all wet and embarrassed. 

“Yes,” you replied dryly at the same time Jeonghan rolled his eyes at the cocky customer. 

 Mark, on the other hand, was in his own little world and couldn’t stop staring at your lips. Unconsciously, he found himself wondering if you would need to use that potion to make him fit or if he could make it work by taking things slow. Maybe if he ate you out real good and opened you up with his fingers it wouldn’t hurt that much. Mark didn’t want to hurt you, he wanted to make you feel good, take care of you.

“Holy shit,” he gasped when it finally hit him. This was it. He had found his mate. In a fucking sex shop.

Haechan gave him an inquisitive look, but he quickly dismissed his friend’s reaction as him being impressed by the potion. 

“Anything else you need?” Jeonghan asked, making Haechan turn his attention to him once again. 

“Mm…Handcuffs?” Haechan asked after a few seconds of hesitation. 

“How original,” Jeonghan muttered, before indicating for Haechan to follow him back outside. Mark didn’t budge when his friend walked past him. It was like his feet were glued to the floor as he stared at you going back to mixing the suspicious-looking potion while humming to a sweet melody. His eyes landed on your name tag and he found himself saying your name out loud before he could stop it. You quickly looked up, surprised that the customer was still there.

“Yes?” you asked politely. “Can I help you with anything else?”

Oh shit, he had to think of something before you thought he was a creep. He licked his lips nervously before he came up with a question that sounded convincing enough. “I j-just uh… are y-you the owner?”

“Jeonghan and I both co-own this place,” you replied and gave him a smile. “Why?”

“N-no, because, like, you look very y-young so I w-was a bit…surprised, so…so I asked?” The way he ended as if he was asking a question was kind of cute if you were being honest and you couldn’t help but laugh. 

 Mark let out a giggle too, dazed at the fact that he had made you laugh. Oh, how he wanted to make you laugh everyday for the rest of his life. 

“We came up with this idea when we were in freshman year, so we had plenty of time to save money and plan everything,” you explained patiently. Somehow, this stranger made you feel at ease, like you didn’t need to be careful with him, or at least not the way you were with most men. “By the time we graduated we were ready to open the store. It’s like our baby.”

Mark felt a pang of jealousy at the fact that there was a man who was close enough to you to plan such a big project together. “That’s cool, uh– s-so are you two, like, a thing? A c-couple?”

 The sound of your laughter made Mark’s heart skip a beat and he smiled dreamily, almost forgetting what he had asked in the first place.

“No way!” you continued laughing at the ridiculous idea, Mark’s relieved sigh going unnoticed. “We’ve been friends since forever. Just a little advice; never make business plans with a romantic partner, kid.”

“I-I’m 23,” Mark laughed nervously, using the back of his hand to dry up some sweat beads accumulated on his forehead. Your sweet scent was so suffocating it was getting harder to breathe, but he couldn’t care less. 

“Oops, my bad! Not a kid,” you said. “You look so young, though! I’m jealous,” you complimented him, not wanting to admit that he also looked gorgeous. “What’s your name?”

“M-mark,” he stuttered. Cute.

“Nice to meet you, Mark,” you extended your hand for him to shake it, smiling more brightly at the way he giggled like an infatuated high-school girl. Everything seemed to be funny to him and it was endearing. He took your hand into his delicately and allowed you to shake it in a friendly manner when your heart started pounding ridiculously fast and you felt the room move around you. Mark’s hard squeeze on your hand brought you back to reality and you saw his body visibly wobbling as he closed his eyes and his chest rose and fell rapidly. “Mark?” you called his name worriedly, but he only whispered your name weakly before he collapsed on the floor with a thud.

“M-mark?” you breathed out, still trying to calm down your own fluttering heart. You knelt down next to his unconscious body and only then you noticed he was covered in sweat. “Shit. Hey, Mark!” you insisted, giving his face a gentle slap with hopes of waking him up. No response. You tried to stand up to go get help, but for some reason you had no strength in your legs. “Jeonghan!” you screamed as loud as you could. Few seconds later, Jeonghan burst into the potions room, his face incredibly pale and eyes wide open, this being the first time he had heard you scream like that. He looked from your terrified face to the motionless man on the floor, trying to assess damage. Immediately after came Haechan, carrying a basket full of different products, which he almost dropped when he saw the state his pack brother was in. 

“What happened?!” Jeonghan asked, kneeling down and wrapping an arm over your shoulders protectively. 

“I d-don’t know! I just shook his hand,” you said.

 Haechan, who had been checking Mark’s pulse, moved his hand from his wrist to his forehead, confirming that he was burning up. “So he became like this right after you touched him?” he asked, staring at you intently, his tone indicating that he knew something you didn’t. 

“I guess? I…I really didn’t do anything to him, I swear!” your voice shook, thinking you were being accused of harming such a nice guy. You tried to stand up but, again, your weak legs pulled you back to the floor and you let out a frustrated groan as Jeonghan helped you reach a chair. 

“Are you okay?” your friend asked you anxiously, stabilizing you on the chair.

“I’m fine!” you sighed. “I’m probably just nervous. I’m not used to people fainting in front of me- Why haven’t you called an ambulance yet?!” you urged him.

“No need,” Haechan interrupted you before Jeonghan could pull his phone out of his pocket. “This is just his rut. It was due a couple of days, but I guess it came early,” he explained, his eyes shining too excitedly for someone whose friend was unconscious on the floor. He chuckled under his breath like the whole situation was amusing. “He’s fine. He just needs to get home and rest.I’ll ask someone to pick us up,” he added, quickly typing on his phone.

 In less than 20 minutes, an old fashioned vehicle pulled up by the store, a man hurriedly getting off the car and making his way to the entrance, stopping midtrack once he opened the door and found himself surrounded by adult toys. 

“Yeah, yeah, this is a sex shop. People have sex, surprise!” Haechan said sarcastically, gesturing to the newcomer to come in. 

“How’s he?” the intimidatingly tall man asked, after clearing his throat and taking long strides towards where you were. Thankfully, the store was almost empty when the whole incident had taken place, so Jeonghan had quickly kicked the remaining customers out and closed the store, helping Haechan move Mark to a more comfortable place while you got some wet towels to reduce his fever. Now Mark was lying on an improvised bed made of blankets and clothes, almost looking like he was taking a peaceful nap. 

“He’s fine, Johnny,” Haechan chuckled. “Our little Mark is just a bit overwhelmed.”

Johnny turned to you and Jeonghan and thanked you for taking care of his brother, before kneeling next to Mark and Haechan. “I didn’t know his rut was due today,” he muttered.

“Because it wasn’t,” Haechan simply said, giving Johnny a playful look. 

 Johnny stared back at him and raised his eyebrows. “Then what-” he trailed off when he saw Haechan tilting his head furtively towards you, the movement barely perceptible but enough to make Johnny look at you out of the corner of his eyes. Thankfully you were busy talking to Jeonghan, who did catch Johnny staring before the tall werewolf quickly turned his back towards him and tried to move Mark carefully. “Which one,” Johnny whispered only for Haechan to hear, to which Haechan mouthed ‘the girl,’ eliciting an impressed grin from Johnny. “Okay, Markie, let’s get you out of here,” Johnny’s voice was back to normal volume, lifting Mark off the ground and carrying him on his shoulder, Mark’s weak groan being the only sign that he was alive. Haechan followed after him, carrying bags of new toys with him and thanking you again for everything before exiting the shop and getting in the car. 

 Once you and Jeonghan were left alone in the store, you let out a heavy sigh. 

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jeonghan asked.

“Yeah, just tired,” you replied, stretching your body now that your legs seemed to function properly. “This town has more werewolves than I thought,” you suddenly said. 

“I´ve heard about those guys. It’s a big pack that moved here a couple of years ago, and for some reason the number of members keeps increasing,” Jeonghan huffed as he moved towards the counter to close the cash register. “I also heard some of them are imprinting on humans,” he added slowly, looking at you attentively. 

“Imprinting,” you repeated unconvinced such a thing was ever real. “Do you really believe in that whole soulmate thing wolves have going on?”

Jeonghan hummed and seemed to focus on his task of counting bills. “How would I know? I’m not one of them,” he finally said. “It could be real.”

“It’s an ancient tradition. Someone probably came up with it to keep them from having sex with whoever they want,” you spitted.

“They can still have sex with whoever they want,” for some reason Jeonghan was defending werewolves’ outdated way of thinking. “But they are more likely to settle down once they find someone who is very important to them.”

“That's called commitment,” you fired back. “Which is not the same as being forced to like someone through imprinting.”

“They are also gifted,” Jeonghan continued matter of factly, with a hint of annoyance in his voice, like he didn’t like admitting to it. “Down there. Massive dicks.”

“Jeonghan, we literally sell toys that could satisfy me better than a traditionalist guy with attachment issues who thinks having a big dick makes him special,” you deadpanned. 

“Okay!” Jeonghan sighed and raised his arms defensively. “No need to be so defensive.”

“I’m not-,” you stopped yourself because you were in fact being defensive. Why did you care? Was it really because you hated old-fashioned ways of thinking? Was there something else bothering you? To be fair, you had been unnecessarily mean; you didn’t think any of the werewolves you just met were traditionalist assholes with attachment issues. Mark especially seemed like such a kind and chill guy. The type of guy you would have asked out on a date if he hadn’t passed out in front of you. Maybe that’s what bothered you: was Mark the type of werewolf who followed traditions to the extent he wouldn’t even give you a chance in order to prioritize his supposed mate? “Sorry, you’re right. It has nothing to do with me anyways.”

When Mark woke up, his head was throbbing and your lovely scent felt like a distant memory. His muscles ached when he sat up and he winced at the way his shirt stuck to his sweaty body. As he took the messy shirt off he heard a soft knock on the door.

“Come in,” he croaked, after taking a proper look at his surroundings and recognising his own room. The door opened slowly and the youngest member of the pack slid into his room, carrying a glass of water and a little medication bottle. Mark could already tell what type of medication it was.

“They told me to give you these,” Jisung offered him the suppressants and waited until Mark had successfully opened the jar and taken a pill into his hands before offering the glass of water.

“Thanks,” Mark muttered before swallowing the pill and gulping down the content of the glass. 

“Do you need anything else?” The younger asked sympathetically.

“No,” Mark assured him, already having gone through his rut so many times he just knew there wasn’t much he could do about it besides fucking it out of his system, by himself or with somebody else. “I just have to wait for the suppressants to kick in and I’ll feel a bit better.”

“Do suppressants really help?” Jisung asked curiously. He had only had a rut once and he spent it with his mate, so he didn’t have to suffer as much as his older brothers. 

“They make the whole thing bearable,” Mark answered, cracking his neck and sighing tiredly. “But it’s still a pain in the ass,” he admitted.

“Is he awake?” Haechan’s voice called from the door. “You got me worried when I saw you unconscious on the floor, man. I calmed down because I understood what was happening, but you probably scared the shit out of the people who worked at the store. That poor girl didn’t know what to do,” he chuckled, inviting himself into the room and sitting on Mark’s bed. 

“Fuck,” Mark groaned at the reminder of such embarrasing first impression and he flopped into the bed. “Y/N…”

“Who is Y/N?” Jisung asked.

“That, little Jisung, would be Mark’s mate,” Haechan revealed and then looked at Mark for confirmation. “Am I right?” 

 Mark whined and covered his face with his palms, but he nodded. 

“And you met her thanks to who…?” Haechan continued, looking from Jisung to Mark , adding a dramatic pause. “Me! I was the one who took you to that sex shop!”

“S-sex shop?!” Jisung choked on his saliva and stared at Mark in shock as if he was waiting for him to tell him it was one of Haechan’s jokes. 

“That’s right,” Haechan laughed and then he gasped as he seemed to remember something. “Hold on, I got you something,” he suddenly said, standing up and leaving the room shortly,and coming back with a pair of handcuffs which he gave to Jisung. “Here. These are for the next time your mate tries to run away.”

Jisung’s eyes almost popped out of his head as he stared at the pink, fluffy handcuffs in his palms. “S-shut up!” He stuttered as aggressively as he could in spite of his voice cracking. “Noona’s not going anywhere,” he muttered to himself.

“Fine,” Haechan rolled his eyes and extended his hand. “Give them back if you don’t want them.”

“N-no,” Jisung said quickly and hid the gift behind his back. “You gave them to me.”

“Can you have this conversation somewhere else?!” Mark suddenly groaned. Haechan’s voice was making his headache worse and he really wanted some peace before his rut hit completely. And he definitely wanted to be alone when touched himself to the thought of you. 

The next few days were a blur. Mark lost count of how many times he cummed in his hand, on the bedsheets and finally in a fleshlight that Haechan sneaked into his room as a gift at some point. At first,  ready to reject whatever ridiculous toy he was bringing, he yelled at Haechan to get out and threw a shoe at him, which Haechan avoided just in time by leaving and closing the door behind him. But then Mark caught your scent. It was very faint, but he would recognise it anywhere. Dizzy, he got up, and crawled towards the fleshlight Haechan had left by the door. He inspected it , never before being so mesmerized by a toy, and bringing it close to his face to inhale your scent deeply. “Y/N…”

“I knew you would like it,” Haechan chuckled from the other side of the door, startling Mark. “It’s a small human size.I went to the store and made sure Y/N was the one selling it to me. I asked her to open the product and test it in front of me…,” he teased. “She stuffed her fingers inside of it to demonstrate how flexible the material is.”

Mark groaned and slid his tongue into the toy hungrily, trembling as he got to taste a bit of you before your scent faded away. 

“She asked about you.I told her you were fine and that you were sorry for scaring her. Don’t worry, I didn’t tell her the fleshlight was for you,” Haechan continued, oblivious to what was happening on the other side of the door. “That Jeonghan guy is totally onto me though; he wouldn’t stop glaring at me like I’m the  biggest perv-,” she trailed off as he suddenly heard wet, slippery sounds, indicating that Mark had wasted no time in using his new gift. “Gross! Wait until I’m gone!” Haechan yelled and ran off. Mark was too gone to care, fucking into the toy with intent and imagining it was you. 

No matter how insufferable Haechan was, this would really help him get through his rut more easily. He should thank him later.Later. Now he really couldn’t think with anything but his cock. He let his animal instinct take over and he forgot about everything and everyone except you, and by the time he gained some self control and clarity back, he found the sticky fleshlight completely destroyed in his hands.He panted heavily as he grabbed some tissues to clean himself before he stood up and put some clothes on for the first time in days. As soon as he opened the door he was met with a bag hanging off the handle containing a bottle of water and some energy bars, which he quickly devoured before heading to take a shower. 

“Hey, how are you feeling?” Jeno asked him as soon as he entered the living room where some of the younger members of the pack were hanging out. 

“I’m good,” Mark sighed. “This one was kind of intense, though…”

“We heard,” Jeno said, quickly correcting himself when Renjun nudged him and gave him a pointed look. “I mean, we can imagine.”

“The first rut after meeting your mate is hell if you don’t spend it together,” Jaemin butted in. 

“To be fair, your mate was particularly difficult,” Jeno told Jaemin. “She denied you for months.”

“Which I’m sure won’t be the case for Mark,” Jaemin assured Mark, who was squirming anxiously on his seat. “You already know her name and where to find her, and from what we heard she’s single.”

“Wha-how do you guys know that?”

“Haechan said he couldn’t smell anybody else’s scent on her, besides the guy who works with her,” Renjun clarified. “Just go see her when you feel better-”

 Renjun’s voice was overpowered by loud whines and complaints coming from the main door, where Haechan and Yangyang were making their entrance.

“I didn’t know!” Yangyang sighed tiredly, like he had been forced to repeat the same thing many times. 

“Well now you know, you little traitor,” Haechan hissed, pulling Yangyang’s arm and carrying him to the living room, where everyone stared at them wide-eyed. “Oh, look! Mark is here! Why don’t you tell him who you were planning on letting suck your dick?”

“Look, Mark,” Yangyang gulped, looking anywhere except Mark’s confused face, which was quickly morphing into one of apprehension. “I didn’t mean to- I just-...I was walking back from campus and I saw that new sex shop downtown and there was this hot-” he interrupted himself and looked at Haechan, who was raising his eyebrows at him, encouraging him to go on. “-a woman. I-I saw a woman who was hanging a sign outside the store, something about needing a volunteer to try a new potion. So I asked what it was about, and she said-...” he paused again and breathed in, knowing there was no nice way to say it. “She said it was something that would like, uh- turn off her gag reflex when doing oral, and that she needed a guy whose size was above average and when I asked how she was gonna test it, she said that-...that she tried all her potions herself…So like, she would be the one d-doing the…the sucking,” he trailed off, his voice going quiet as he felt the weight of everyone’s eyes on him.

“...You didn’t,” Renjun was the only one to speak. “...did you?”

“Ugh, I…,” Yangyang groaned. “I’m a man, okay? Why would I say no to a pretty girl sucking me off and giving me cash for it?!” 

“MARK’S MATE GAVE YOU A BLOWJOB?!” Jeno exclaimed incredulously. 

“NO!” Yangyang quickly shut him up and looked for Mark’s lifeless eyes before denying it again. “No. Nothing happened. I had an interview with her and a guy who works there. They measured my cock, asked for a sexual health check-up and told me to come back tomorrow with the results. I called Haechan to ask him about a good clinic to get tested and he practically jumped down my throat,” he explained nervously. “I…I really didn’t know.”

Everyone stayed silent, looking at Mark who was scarily quiet, clenching his jaw and looking at his own hands folded on his lap. “So? Are you going tomorrow?” he asked cautiously.

Yangyang shook his head quickly, but it was Haechan who  spoke. “He isn’t. But you should.”

“Me?!” Mark bawled out. 

“Do you want her sucking somebody else off?!” Haechan spit back. “If it’s not Yangyang, there will be another dude out there who’s willing to do it.”

“Haechan’s got a point there,” Jaemin agreed. “She’s gonna test that potion anyways, and you were lucky that the one finding out about it was one of our pack. She won’t be looking for somebody else because she’s expecting Yangyang to show up tomorrow. This is your chance.”

“But she’s expecting him, not me,” Mark said bitterly. 

“Not at all! She didn’t seem particularly interested in me. She just thought I was hygienic enough, I guess,” Yangyang laughed awkwardly. “It was kind of intimidating how professional she was about it, to be honest.”

“This is the plan,” Haechan asserted, like he had been waiting the entire time to show how much of a mastermind he was. “Yangyang’s gonna call tomorrow before his appointment and let them know that he had an accident or something,” he quickly explained, ignoring Yangyang’s whine of how bad he was at lying. “And then he’ll say that he sent someone to replace him and BOOM! You show up with your STD test results and your monster cock and she falls in love.”

“Then he would have to go get tested right now,” Renjun said, entertaining Haechan’s plan.

“No need!” Haechan laughed like he was revealing the biggest plot twist. “Because last week, I forced Mark to go with me to get my annual check up and he ended up getting tested since he was already there. Who saved the day again? ME!”

“Problem solved, then,” Jaemin beamed, like it was actually that easy.

 Mark nodded slowly and then, when he actually processed what he was agreeing to, he shook his head violently. “No, no way. I can’t do it.”

“What?!” Jeno asked. “Man, you have to!”

“I- I just can’t,” Mark stuttered.

“What, is she ugly?” Jeno asked incredulously. 

“No,” both Mark and Yangyang answered immediately. Mark narrowed his eyes and glared at Yangyang who didn’t seem to think he said anything wrong. “What? She really isn’t,” he tried to defend himself.

Mark sighed. “I literally just met her. I haven’t even asked her out. How am I supposed to-...do that?,” he admitted.

“I understand this may not be your ideal version of a fated meeting,” Renjun spoke in a calming manner. “But if you want to take things slowly, you must know that she will be testing all these…sex potions with somebody else. Are you okay with that?”

Mark shook his head and clenched his fists, biting his lip. Hell, no.  He could never be okay with anybody else touching you now that he met you. But that was exactly what was going to happen if he didn’t man up and showed up to get a platonic blowjob from his mate who didn’t know was his mate and would suck him off for science/magic purposes only. 

 And so, Mark found himself standing outside your store the next evening, wearing an expensive hoodie (to keep it casual, but not broke), gray sweatpants that, according to Haechan, accentuated the goods, brand new boxers and holding a neat folder with his check-up results printed in his hands.He took a deep breath in and stepped towards the door, before stopping himself again but this time the door opened from the inside,and  he was greeted with Jeonghan’s impassive face. 

“Are you gonna come in or not? It stresses me out to see you having whatever internal battle this is in front of my store,” Jeonghan said.

“No-I mean, yes! I was just about-...uh, my brother asked me to- well, he like, sent me to-...,” Mark struggled to get to the point and ended up just giving Jeonghan the folder he was holding. Jeonghan grabbed the folder with a puzzled look, which quickly became one of amusement as he opened it and understood what he had in his hands. 

“You’re Yangyang’s replacement?” he asked, his tone slightly playful.

“Uh, yes…if that’s okay,” Mark said, suddenly feeling self-conscious. What if he wasn’t what they were looking for?

“Well, you’re clean and you seem to have a decent size,” Jeonghan pointed out, looking at Mark’s crotch shamelessly. “I’ll just need to ask you a few questions to make sure we’re good to go. You’re also allowed to ask us anything and back down if you feel it’s too much for you,” he explained, making space for Mark to enter the shop and then hanging a sign indicating that they were closed. He then guided Mark to the room where he had first met you before he had any time to prepare himself. “Hey, Y/N, look who’s back!”

You were not expecting to see Mark at all after what had happened last time. First of all, he had literally fainted in your store, which you thought was enough to make him not want to go back there ever. Secondly, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would casually go to a sex shop. But there he was, standing in front of you and stuttering something about wanting to volunteer for potion testing. As he was speaking, you found yourself looking down and vividly staring at his dick print, salivating at the idea of having him in your mouth. When you looked back up, your eyes met Jeonghan’s knowing ones and you knew he had caught you red handed. Okay you had a tiny crush on this Mark guy, but what you were about to do was strictly professional. 

“Are you sure you’re okay doing this? Didn’t you go into rut recently?” you asked, indicating for him to sit down in the chair across yours, as Jeonghan took a sit next to you, going over some papers and taking notes. 

“I’m fine. Also…I’m sorry for last time,” Mark rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “It must have been shocking.”

“Don’t apologize for that. I-...” you quickly corrected yourself. “We are glad you’re okay. If you want to do this we need to ask you a few questions first, is that okay?”

When Mark nodded, Jeonghan shot the first question. “Are you a virgin?”

“N-no,” Mark stuttered. “I’ve…I’ve had sex.”

“When was the last time you had sexual relationships?” you asked, trying not to make it noticeable that what you actually wanted to know was if he was seeing someone.

“Uh maybe 5 months ago? Or more, I’m not too sure, sorry.”

“No girlfriend? Or boyfriend?” Jeonghan asked, even though that was not one of the questions on the list.

“No, I’m single,” Mark stated more confidently, his eyes darting towards you nervously. 

“Would you be willing to participate in future testing for our products?” you asked, again trying not to show how much you wanted him to say yes.

“Yes,” Mark said firmly, this time staring right into your eyes. He wanted you to call him and only him for whatever you wanted to test. You blushed a little, but quickly hid your face behind some papers you pretended to be reading.

“Did you like the fleshlight?” Jeonghan asked as quickly as Mark answered the previous question, again, not following the script.

“Yes,” Mark answered honestly, caught off guard, and blushing furiously when he properly understood  what he had just admitted. Shit. Fuck. Okay, Mark, keep it cool, nothing wrong with using a fleshlight. Just move on to the next question. “But I split it open, s-sorry,” fuck why would you tell them that, Mark?!

“Oh?” Jeonghan was having the time of his life. “How come? Our toys are very resistant.”

“The toy was g-great! Amazing quality, very soft,” Mark cringed at his own words, because he had no idea how to rate a sex toy and it showed. “It’s just that ruts are… rough,” he said for a lack of a better word to describe how wild things got when his wolf consumed him.

 You gulped and cleared your throat while Jeonghan let out an impressed whistle and took some notes. “I guess we need to make them even more resistant, then,” you said. “Anyways, Jeonghan is going to measure you now so I’ll step out for a minute and come back when you’re ready, okay?”

When Mark agreed, you left the room and went straight to the restroom to wash your face and calm yourself down. Did he really break the toy with his dick? Fuck, he was going to destroy your throat. But then, he was the perfect candidate to test the potion; if you could deep throat him, it meant your creation had been successful. You took a deep breath in and drank the anti-gagging potion before you made your way to the potions room, waiting for your sign to go in. Then Jeonghan came out and wiggled his eyebrows at you, chuckling.

“I’ll bring you some honey and lemon tea for your throat tomorrow,” he said, winking at you and walking towards the counter to count today’s cash. “He’s all yours.”

You rolled your eyes and walked in. “Mark? are you ready?”

 Mark was standing, adjusting the hem of his sweatpants around his hips, giving you a teaser of his defined abdomen and hipbones. He blushed, and nodded. “So… how should we do this?”

“Just take a seat and let me do the rest,” you instructed, quickly kneeling in front of the chair he was now sitting in.

“Y/N,” he suddenly called your name, and his hand stopped yours from pulling the elastic of his pants down.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, your heart dropping at the thought of being rejected. “Did you change your mind?”

“No,” he said quickly. “I was just wondering… Why are you trying the potion yourself? Couldn’t you have found somebody willing to test their gag reflex?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” you muttered, distracting by the way his thumb was drawing gentle circles on the back of your hand. “But I find it hard to trust other people when it comes to feedback. This is my product so I want to make sure it works. Plus, I happen to have a strong gag reflex; everything makes me choke,” you shrugged, without noticing the way Mark’s breath stuttered. “So if someone can tell if this potion works, it’s me.”

Mark nodded and exhaled. “Is this the very first time you drink this potion?”

“No. I’ve tested it with inanimate objects, like some of the dildos we sell,” you said and Mark hoped you hadn’t noticed the way his dick twitched at the mental image of your pretty lips sucking on a toy. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna vomit all over you,” you chuckled, trying to ease the tension. You wanted Mark to relax, to feel safe with you. “Any more questions?”

 Oh, there was so much that Mark wanted to ask you, like what was your favorite color or if you liked flowers, but he knew it was not the right time, so he just shook his head and released your hand, letting you pull down the waistband carefully. Once you lowered his sweatpants slightly, you looked up at him, looking for any sign of discomfort, but besides the intense blushing that covered his face and ears, he seemed fine, so you took it further by pulling his boxers down enough to release his cock and you gasped out loud. Now you could understand how he managed to destroy the fleshlight.

When you stared at his dick for way too long,Mark got the wrong idea. “You d-don’t have to-“ he tried to say but he ended up hissing when you took him in your hand and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s perfect,” you murmured before remembering you had to keep it professional. “For testing, I mean.”

“O-okay, okay g-glad to hear-ooh!” Mark definitely shouldn’t be trying to have a conversation right now. You had barely touched him and he was already half hard. He should be embarrassed, but he couldn’t even think when you were in your knees between his legs and stroking his cock like that.

 On your side, you knew you didn’t need to be jerking him off. The deal was just to put it in your mouth and see if it could reach your throat without gagging you, but it was like you had no control over your actions right now. Just like last time you had seen Mark, your heart was fluttering and you felt lightheaded and all you wanted was for him to feel good.

 Carefully, you flicked the head of his cock with your tongue, causing his back to arch and his hips to chase your mouth. “S-sorry,” he quickly apologized, already panting. 

“It’s fine,” you purred, your tone a bit too seductive to be professional. Fuck what was Mark doing to you? You were basically drooling as you trailed your tongue from the base to the tip. “I’m gonna put it in now, okay?”

“Fuck,” Mark moaned, throwing his head back and clenching his fist on his sides, not quite knowing what to do with himself. “Y-yes,” he consented.

 You didn’t waste more time, guiding the head of his cock into your mouth and sucking softly, and delighting on the hushed curses that left Mark’s mouth. You worried the problem wouldn’t be your gag reflex; you had underestimated his girth, which was making it difficult to even fit him between your lips. You worked on relaxing your jaw and took a bit more of his cock in, trying your best not to let your teeth scratch him.

“Shit…Y/N,”  Mark sobbed, trembling under you, when his tip met your throat and you successfully swallowed around him.  One of his hands grabbing the hem of his hoodie and lifting it enough to expose his tense lower abdomen. You looked up through your eyelashes, enamored by the way his brows furrowed in pleasure and his chest rose and fell. Before you could think about what you were doing, your hands traveled up, caressing his waist and stomach, which contracted under your hands. Your head bobbed up and down slowly, still trying to remind yourself to be careful of his size in spite of his soft moans driving you crazy.

“Mark,” you call for him, swirling your tongue around the tip teasingly. “Mark,” you repeat when he doesn’t reply, eyes unfocused and mouth agape as he panted. He acknowledged you with a soft ‘hmm?’ and you spoke again. “I need you to fuck my mouth now,” you spoke casually, like you were talking about the weather and Mark could have died right there.

“Wha-,” he stuttered, trying not to panic. “W-what?!”

“I need to check if the potion is still effective when things get rough,” you blushed, hoping not to sound too desperate. In your defense, it was for the sake of the experiment, but a part of you really wanted Mark to fuck your mouth. “You don’t want to?” you whispered, suddenly considering that maybe he wasn’t into you and was only doing this for the money. Maybe he wasn’t enjoying himself as much as you thought. And that shouldn’t bothering you, but it was.

“It’s not that,” he sighed, trying to ignore how hard he was and how badly he did want to face-fuck you. “I’m-...I’m stronger than I look, Y/N. I would ruin you.”

“That’s the point,” you simply said, again trying to help him relax, but also god, did you want it. Mark groaned and clenched his eyes closed, a bead of precum sliding down the head of his cock to your hand that was jerking him off slowly. “So, no?” you asked one last time. Mark bit his lip and avoided your eyes, and you felt officially rejected. “That’s fine, I won’t force you,” you accepted your defeat, trying not to be too bitter about it, slowly letting go of his dick and getting ready to stand up and leave with some dignity. “Please tell Yangyang to come whenever he has time-”

 Now, that seemed to do it for Mark. Before you could stand up or finish speaking, he tangled his hand in your hair and pushed your head down onto him roughly. A guttural moan left his lips and you whined in surprise and looked up to him; his eyes had turned red and his jaw was clenched. Without a word he pulled your hair a little and thrusted his hips up sharply, causing you to let out a muffled cry. 

“Like this?” he panted, placing both his hands on your head and moving you up and down his length fast, his cock hitting the back of your throat with every thrust. “Is this what you w-wanted?” he growled, not even hiding how irritated he was at the thought of you sucking off his pack brother. The way your jaw stretched for him was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t deny this side of Mark was turning you on. You found yourself wondering if this was the way he treated that poor fleshlight. You also wondered if he had, at least for a second, thought of you during his rut. You moaned around him and his eyes rolled back. “Fuuuuck.”

 He quickly brought his eyes back to look at you, like he didn’t want to miss a single detail and thrusted his hips up into your mouth at the same time he guided your head up and down his cock, his moans becoming louder and more desperate, completely forgetting that Jeonghan could probably hear everything from the other room. You looked so pretty, and he hoped you knew that, so he said it.

“You’re so pretty, Y/N,” he said, one of his hands caressing your cheek, while his other hand kept your head in place to take his slower but more forceful thrusts and swallow the salty precum that for some reason tasted addictive to you. You looked up to him, surprised at the sudden gentle words. You knew for a fact there was no way you looked pretty when you were a drooling mess, with sloppy hair and a dick down your throat, but his mouth hanging open in pleasure, forming a perfect ‘o’ shape and the way he looked at you with those intense red eyes filled with lust and something else you couldn’t quite put your finger on somehow made you feel like the prettiest girl on earth. You tried your best to hollow your cheeks and swallow around his length and Mark finally lost it, letting out a loud moan that sounded like your name mixed with profanities as hot and thick liquid invaded your tastebuds. Mark kept your head right there while he rode the aftershocks of his orgasm, making sure you swallowed every drop and caressing your hair and praising you until he lost all strength and let his body relax on the chair, releasing the hold he had on you. You let go of his cock with a soft ‘pop’, pulled his pants and boxers back up and rested your head on his thigh, trying to catch your breath and clenching your thighs to get some relief, incredibly aroused. 

“W-was that okay?” Mark asked after a while, hoping you didn’t hate him.

“Yeah…” you replied dreamingly, feeling lightheaded. “Perfect.”

“Y/N,” Mark breathed out, caressing your hair and looking at you lovingly. “Can I…Would you let me make you feel good too?”

“Huh?” you croaked, looking up at him. Mark inhaled deeply and sighed, focusing his eyes on your crotch and then you remembered that wolves had an enhanced sense of smell.He could surely smell how wet you were. How embarrassing. “Oh, no! Don’t worry about it,” you said, standing up too quickly and almost falling because your legs were not ready for that. Mark immediately stood up and caught you in his arms, pulling your body and face dangerously close to his. “I- it’s…,” you tried to speak, but it was hard when Mark was close enough to kiss you. “You don’t h-have to, r-really,”

“I want to,” Mark whispered like he was hypnotized, licking his lips and staring at yours hungrily. “Please let me…” 

 Oh, he was trouble. You wanted to say yes to anything he asked from you. But your prideful side reminded you that you had had to basically beg him to fuck your mouth. It wasn’t like he actually wanted you. “No need,” you finally said, pushing him away gently and turning around to search for his payment. You came back to him and offered him an envelope with cash. “Thank you for your help. It looks like the potion works perfectly,” you said politely, becoming your professional persona again, much to Mark’s disappointment. 

He looked from the envelope to your face, until he remembered that, according to you, what had just happened was all business. The fact that you would go on thinking that he would just let anyone suck him off for money made him feel physically ill, but then, he is the one who showed up for the job. He looked away and nodded, before taking the envelope and stuffing it into the pocket of his hoodie, without sparing it a glance. “No problem,” he muttered, dragging his feet towards the exit, but he stopped himself after a couple of steps, addressing you. “Hey, Y/N! Uh… do you, like, maybe- I was wondering if you,” just ask for her number,dude. Why can’t you do it?! “Is there any other potion you need to try?” he asked instead. Mark, you fucking loser.

“Uh…” you pondered for a few seconds. You would love to see him again, but you didn’t want to get your hopes up. But he did say he would be willing to participate in future testing during the interview. “There’s something I’m working on these days,” you admitted shyly, shifting around because of the uncomfortable stickiness between your legs. 

“Call me,” Mark said quickly. “Whenever you want to try a new product, call me first,” he added, pointing at the folder where Jeonghan had written all his information, including his phone number. “I’ll t-try them out… with you.”

“O-okay,” you knew you were blushing and you couldn’t even hide the small smile on your lips. Again, you tried not to let it get to your head; for all you knew he could just be desperate for more cash. “We’ll let you know.”

 As soon as Mark got home, he was met with uncountable indiscreet questions. The entire house, and maybe the neighborhood knew he had been out there getting a blowjob.

“Did she fall for you?” Haechan asked, coming from the kitchen with a bottle of champagne ready to be opened. 

“Not even close,” Mark grunted. 

“What?!” he lowered the bottle, disappointed.”What happened?!” 

“She gave me the best orgasm of my life and then gave me money,making it very clear it had been for the sake of her business,” Mark muttered, plopping on the couch as his brothers surrounded him with curious eyes. “Didn’t even let me return the favor…”

“So this is it?” Chenle butted in. “You’re giving up?”

“No, I… I told her I was willing to volunteer to test other products and she said she would let me know if something came up.”

Some of the guys gave each other skeptical looks, communicating with their eyes that they thought you wouldn’t call Mark.

“No. You’re going to that store every damn day if you have to,” Haechan said stubbornly.

“Just because it worked for you, it doesn’t mean it will work for everyone,” Mark sighed, remembering how Haechan had showed up in their mate’s store everyday for months to win her over. “A guy going to a sex shop everyday? She’ll think I’m a perv.”

“Persistence is key,” Haechan insisted, but Mark wasn’t listening anymore. He stood up and left to lock himself in his room, leaning against the door. He took the cash envelope out of his pocket and threw it somewhere on the floor, letting out a frustrated groan. He should have asked for your number like a normal man interested in a woman. Why did he have to be such a coward? He probably wouldn’t hear from you again.

…But he did. After a couple of weeks of him watching the store from afar (while Haechan straight up went to the store and bought whatever just to make sure you weren’t testing any potions with somebody else), one morning he got a call from an unknown number.

“Hello?” he murmured lethargically, still half asleep.

“Hello? Is this, uh…Mark Lee?” your voice asked on the other side of the line.

“Y/N, shit-,” he sat up immediately as soon as he recognised your voice. “Sorry, I was- Y-yes, this is M-mark.”

“Hi, Mark, this is Y/N ,from Pandora’s Box,” you introduced yourself even though you had clearly heard him say your name. “We were wondering if you were still interested in helping us test our products,” you recited just like you had practiced a thousand times before making the call.

“Yes, please!” Mark answered way too quickly. “I mean, I would love to- I… sure, I can help.”

“Would you be available Saturday night?”

“Y-yeah, Saturday sounds great,” honestly, he would have showed up in his pajamas right now if you had asked him to.

“Great! I’ll text you the address. Save my number!” you said quickly and hung up before he could question if it all had been a dream. You put the phone down and glared at Jeonghan. “Happy now?” you asked him sarcastically and he laughed.

“Now, that wasn’t that hard, was it?” he asked back. He had been teasing you ever since the last time Mark had visited the store. Being your best friend meant he could immediately tell when you liked someone and you really really liked Mark. So Jeonghan, being the good friend he was, had been pestering you day and night to call Mark directly instead of recruiting new volunteers to test your potion. 

Still on his bed, Mark was having a thousand different thoughts a second. You’d said you would send him an address. So you wouldn’t meet at the store? And you also told him to save your number… so the phone you used to call him had to be yours, right? Oh god, was this like a date? Just then, a notification of a message from the same number popped up, informing him of the address he had to go to the next day. Nothing more, and nothing less. He bit his lip nervously. Why did you have to keep treating everything like a job? Would it kill you to send an emoji? But he told himself this was no time to be pessimistic. You had called him, and that was a good start.

 And here he was now, on a Saturday night, ringing the bell of an apartment and trying to control his anxiety. 

“Mark?” He was met with your flustered face when you opened the door, wearing an oversized shirt that had him wondering if you were completely bare under it. “You’re early!” you said, pulling the hem of the shirt lower to cover you better. “S-sorry, come in! I’ll just get changed quickly.”

“You don’t have to!” Mark said way too fast, having a hard time to stop looking at your thighs. “I m-mean, you can if you want to, but I…I don’t mind… like, at all.”

You blushed and stared at Mark, not knowing how to reply to that, because he was obviously checking you out.

“I mean, this is your house,” Mark stated. It wasn’t a question; your scent was everywhere. “You get to wear whatever you want, right?” he shrugged, hoping he wasn’t making it that obvious that he didn’t want you to cover up. “Why are we meeting here, by the way?”

“I thought some privacy would be nice,” you said, remembering how Jeonghan made fun of you because of how loud Mark had been last time. “Does it make you uncomfortable?”

“Not all all.”

“Cool,” you sighed. “I just need to add a couple of ingredients and the potion will be ready. Make yourself at home,” you made your way towards the kitchen, deciding not to change clothes, partly because your current outfit was comfortable, but mostly because you secretly enjoyed Mark’s eyes on your body.

Instead of finding a seat and killing time on his phone, Mark followed you, hoping you didn’t mind some company. He leaned against the fridge as he watched you do your thing, trying to come up with something to say to start a conversation.

“How’s your throat?” he finally asked, watching you almost drop the spoon you were holding. 

“Fine,” you gave him a short answer. He didn’t need to know you could barely speak for a couple of days after you deepthroated him.

“Good to hear,” he whispered, watching you with doting eyes. “I don’t want to hurt you,” he confessed. Maybe it was because your aroma was surrounding him, but he found himself feeling more relaxed and open to speak without filtering his words.

“You didn’t hurt me,” you assured him, not daring to look at him and focusing on your potion instead. “You were…really good.”

“Yeah?” he purred, feeling lightheaded by the domestic view of you wearing nothing but an oversized shirt in the kitchen, wishing he could see this everyday of his life.

“Y-yeah,” you gulped,feeling his eyes boring into you. “Okay, uh-I’m gonna need a drop of your blood,” you changed the topic quickly.

“Sure,” Mark didn’t even question it. You could have all of him. He walked towards you and let you grab his hand, using a needle to prick his index finger as fast and unpainfully as you could, letting a single drop of his blood pour into the cauldron. Immediately after, you did the same to your own finger, letting your blood mix with his in the potion. “What does this potion do?” Mark asked.

You gave him a surprised look. “Didn’t I tell you on the phone?”

Mark shook his head, chuckling. You remembered how you were so nervous you hung up on him as soon as he agreed to help.

“And you still came? Without even knowing-” you gasped when Mark took your hand into his and slid your injured finger into his mouth, softly sucking on it.

“Does it hurt?” he asked gently, giving it little licks,  completely forgetting the conversation you were having just now.

“N-no,” you sighed, confused and nervous at the loving way Mark had been behaving ever since he entered your place. Maybe he was just being nice and you were imagining things. “Anyways, about the potion,” you raised your voice in panic, removing your hand from his and going back to mixing the potion. “It will make you feel what your partner feels. This way, people can know if what they are doing is enjoyable and no one needs to fake their orgasms.”

“Have you?”

“Have I what?” you asked, now pouring the bright pink potion in two different glasses and offering one to him.

“Faked an orgasm?”

“Of course. Not like men care enough to check,” you said, hearing Mark tsk next to you. “So, after we drink this potion, I would need you to touch yourself,” you swallowed nervously, hoping not to scare Mark away with your straightforwardness. “ Nothing too wild, just something that feels good to you and we’ll see if I feel it too… if you are still up for it?”

Mark raised an eyebrow and straight up drank the potion, not leaving a single drop behind. He wouldn’t even dream of letting you try that out with somebody else. “Well?” he asked, tilting his head towards your glass. You hesitated for a moment before drinking the potion too.

“S-so, you can use the bathroom and uh-...do whatever you need t-to do,” you stuttered nervously, showing him where the bathroom was and letting him have some privacy. You assumed he would probably need to watch some porn on his phone or something, but you had no idea your scent already had him on edge. As soon as you sat down on the sofa, you felt a tingling sensation on your neck, which traveled to your shoulders and then your arms. And then it clicked; you were feeling his fingers. He was gently caressing his own body like he would to a lover and you could feel it on yourself. You gasped when the invisible fingers ran down your chest and grazed your nipples softly before toying with them. Oh fuck, the potion really worked.

Mark never took his sweet time like this when touching himself, but just thinking that he was indirectly touching you made him want to seize the opportunity. He closed his eyes and let his hands move like they were exploring your body. He teased himself by running his hands up and down his abdomen several times, always stopping at the waistband before sneaking only the tip of his fingers in, imagining you begging him to get to it.

In the other room, you were mentally begging for him. His faint touches had you trembling and wanting to touch yourself. You didn’t, because you knew he would feel it if you were pleasuring yourself and it would be embarrassing, but god you wanted to. Thankfully, Mark seemed to have mercy on himself-on you- and slid his hand past his boxers, fully palming himself and letting out a moan that echoed past the bathroom walls. You bit your lip to suppress the moan that almost escaped you, quickly crossing your legs at the sudden stimulation, arching your back when you felt slow circles being drawn on your clit. Shit, he was teasing the head of his cock, going from slow big circles to tiny fast ones that had you squirming on your seat. That’s when it hit you that he wasn’t doing this to himself, but to you. This fucker was doing it intentionally. 

 Mark started stroking his cock furiously, knowing it would take you by surprise and smirking victoriously when he heard a whine coming from the living room. He was so thankful for his enhanced hearing right now, because he could hear every little gasp you let out like you were right in front of him. When he felt himself close to his climax he stopped moving his hand and chuckled at the way you whimpered. He pulled his pants back up and exited the bathroom to find you in the living room.

“Did it work?” he asked innocently, trying not to laugh at your frustrated, blushing face. You cleared your throat and opened your mouth to say something, but closed it again and nodded. He eyed you up and licked his lips, before sitting on the couch in front of you. “Shouldn’t we test if it works both ways?”

“W-what?” you croaked, breathing heavily. 

“Don’t you need to know if I feel what your body feels too?” he asked, scanning your body carefully.

Even in your aroused state, you knew he was making sense. Plus, you were so close and desperate to cum you didn’t care if it was embarrassing anymore. But you also wanted to get back at him for teasing you. So you obliged, sliding one of your hands under your shirt right there in front of him. His breath hitched and his eyes widened when he saw what you were doing.He was a bit disappointed when he saw that you were in fact wearing a pair of shorts under your shirt, but he wasn’t going to complain when he had you groping your tits in front of him. He sighed shakily at the way you floundered your breasts, occasionally teasing your nipples.

“Can you feel it?” you asked.

Mark licked his lips and shifted on his seat. If he admitted he felt it, would it be over?Would you give him money and kick him out again? He had to make it last. “I-...I’m not too sure. My nipples are not very sensitive so m-maybe…you could touch somewhere else?” he asked hopefully, letting his eyes fixate on your crotch. 

“You’re not sensitive there?” you teased, sliding your hands down your stomach to your shorts. “But you were touching them so much earlier…”

“Did you like it?” he asked hopefully, his body leaning forward and falling on his knees on the floor, slowly crawling towards you and breathing heavily..

“This isn’t about my pleasure,” you sighed, your words contradicting how wet you were when your fingers made contact with your pussy.

“Why not?” Mark asked, on his knees in front of you, looking at your fingers move up and down under the fabric of your shorts.He swallowed back a moan at the way your teasing touch felt on his own body thanks to the potion. “Why can’t it be?”

“I just w-want the best for my b-business,” you said stubbornly between moans, getting closer to your orgasm when a pair of strong hands stopped yours from moving and you gasped. “M-mark?” 

“Then we should test this shit right, don’t you think?” Mark asked through gritted teeth, his eyes displaying the same red color you saw when he fucked your throat weeks ago. 

“T-test it right?” you repeated dumbly, as he took your hand out of your shorts.

“Do you normally just meet up with sexual partners, watch each other touch themselves and call it a day?” Mark asked you nonchalantly. 

“N-no, but…”

“Isn’t the entire point of this to feel if our partner likes what we do to them?” he clarified, gently placing his hands on each of your knees.

 You froze at his words. Was he suggesting you touched each other? You already liked him way too much for what would be a normal crush. You knew you would fall for him badly if you two went any further.

“Let me,” Mark pleaded, moving his palms up and down your thighs and applying more pressure on a spot on your inner thigh he literally felt you liked better. 

Would it really be that bad to give in? To enjoy yourself a little? To allow yourself to feel something for him?

“Okay…” you finally said and Mark didn’t waste a single second more, pulling your tiny shorts off and groaning at the sight of your wet panties sticking to your pussy. He licked you languidly through the thin fabric and moaned loudly at both the way you tasted and his own body receiving the pleasure he was giving you. 

“O-oh my god,” he whined leaning back in, this time more aggressively, moving his head up and down and lapping and sucking brutally.

“F-fuck,” you moaned, trying to close your legs around Mark’s head, who didn’t seem to care at all. He hummed and slid his hands up your thighs to your ass, grabbing your buttcheeks and pushing you against him harder, which made you tremble and throw your head back. “Mark, oh god, M-mark I’m-...I’m gonna-”

Mark knew. He felt how close you had been to coming so many times in the last half an hour. He himself was close too, so he used one of his hands to stroke himself in sync with his tongue, bringing both of you to such a powerful orgasm you couldn’t even moan, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as your body tensed. Your legs fell off Mark’s shoulders as he continued licking you obsessively. 

“Mark,” you moaned, trying to push his head away weakly. “I’m s-sensitive, Mark.”

Again, he knew. He was trembling himself at the overstimulation, but he didn’t want it to end. “Please,” he whined when you managed to put some distance between you. “Just a little bit more, please,” he begged desperately tugging at your panties which ended up tearing apart in his hands. You gasped and he looked at the ruined material he was holding in his hands. He seemed as confused as you were. “S-sorry, I didn’t mean to-” he muttered. You remembered how he had told you that he was stronger than he looked, how he had broken one of your best selling toys and now he had destroyed a pair of panties without even trying. Fuck, the things he could do to you. 

You loved it.

You loved him.

Wait, what? You knew your crush on him was weird, because of how your body reacted to your first encounter, how your mind would go to him 24/7 and how you really wanted him to…bite you?? You looked at him, on his knees, staring back at you cautiously; almost like he could tell what you were thinking, like he felt what you felt not only physically…but emotionally. The potion had worked so well, you could feel everything the other felt. The lust, love, possessiveness, the need he had to mate you, you felt it all. 

He had imprinted on you.

“Y/N…” he could sense it; you were terrified. He reached for your hand, but you quickly stood up, pulling your shirt down and walking away from him with wobbly legs, ignoring your ripped panties sliding down your legs. “Y/N, come on…” he called, standing up and going after you, stopping when you turned back to him, offering him an envelope with his payment. 

“Thank you for your help,” you said robotically, looking at the door instead of him, indicating it was his time to leave. 

Mark glared darkly at the damn envelope in your hands. There you went again, being intimate with him, making him feel like his heart could burst out of happiness and then throwing cash at him like he was a hooker. Why did you have to make it feel so dirty? He didn’t want to leave. He didn’t want to let you go, but maybe he shouldn’t push it too hard. Maybe you needed some space and you could talk later.

“Keep the money,” he sighed, walking uncomfortably towards the door due to the stickiness in his pants. “See you.”

“You won’t,” you spitted, flinching when he turned around quickly and glared at you. “We w-won’t be calling you for future testing.”

Mark tightened his jaw and stared at you for what felt like an entire minute before he decided he was done being the nice guy. Fuck it. If this was the last time he would see you, he wanted to at least know what your fucking problem was. 

“Why not?” he asked, walking towards you and feeling the anxiety build up in your body while you took some steps back. “Didn’t I satisfy you?”

You looked away. You knew it wasn’t fair to treat him like he was part of a transaction, but you didn’t think you were ready for what a wolf imprinted on you meant.

“We came at the same time, didn’t we? We felt everything the other person felt-we still do,” he continued, chuckling when he felt the way your heart skipped a beat at his words. “Didn’t I prove my worth as a test subject? Aren’t I the perfect little toy you wanted?”

His words were playful, but you felt the pain and anger behind them.

“You’re not a toy,” you said as firmly as you could.

“Then don’t treat me like one,” Mark growled. 

“When did I ever-”

“You keep shoving money into my pocket and kicking me out as soon as you’re done with me-”

“That was the deal!” you yelled exasperatedly.

“Screw the deal!” he raised his voice too. “ I can literally feel how much you want me. How much you want me to stay. So why are you making me leave? How long are you going to play with my feelings?” he paused, taking a deep breath in and trying to tune into your emotions, trying his best to understand you. “Are you-...afraid of me?” The way your level of anxiety skyrocketed gave him the answer he needed. “Why? B-because I’m a werewolf? Because of my strength?” he asked sadly.

“No, that’s…that’s not a problem for me,” you admitted shyly. Not wanting to say you were into that.

“Then what are you afraid of?” he asked.

“You imprinted on me,” you confronted him.

“...Yes,” he calmly confessed.

“These…feelings,” you tried to explain, pointing at your body vaguely. “All these things you’re feeling right now, and that now I can feel too… do you- do you feel them all the t-time?”

“Yeah, especially when I think about you,” he sighed. “...which is pretty much all the time.”

“H-how-” you breathed with difficulty. “How do you c-control them? They are so…intense.”

“I don’t,” Mark simply said. “I tried to tone them down at first, but I just made it harder for myself. I accept them and let them control me once in a while.”

“L-let them control you?!” you repeated incredulously. 

“Ah, so this is what this is about,” Mark threw his head back and let out a breathy laugh. “You have control issues.”

 You scoffed, walking angrily towards the kitchen. Not that you had anything to do there, you just wanted to get away.

“Am I wrong?” he challenged, chasing after you. “You’re annoyed because you can’t control the way you feel for me,” he cornered you against the kitchen counter, making you face his red eyes. “And you can’t control me.”

 You visibly shivered at that. “Mark…” 

“I came here because I wanted you. I ate you out because I’ve wanted to taste you since I first saw you. I love feeling this way about you and I have no intention of controlling it,” he whispered, taking a step closer to you, leaving almost no space between you.

 You breathed heavily. His feelings were too intense for your body to take. “Then who’s g-going to be in control?” you asked nervously.

He chuckled. “None of us,” he replied like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Just let go,” he purred against your lips. “Allow yourself to feel it. Feel me.”

So you did. You crashed your lips against his and brought his body into yours desperately, tugging at his hair and moaning wantonly. He cursed under his breath and shoved his tongue into your mouth, tasting every bit of you he could. You pulled away to breath, which was still hard with how tense you were. “Relax,” Mark murmured, kissing down your neck and nipping at your collarbones. “Feel everything. I got you, pretty girl.”

 You inhaled and exhaled slowly, feeling all tension leave your body while Mark’s mouth and hands worshiped your body. A warm sensation filled you and a shiver ran down your spine when you allowed yourself to lose control. “F-fuck, oh my god, Mark-” you moaned out loud when he took your shirt off and attached himself to your tits, licking them obscenely. There was nothing soft and gentle about the way you both were behaving, with your fingers pulling his hair and him humping you desperately, like you both couldn’t wait any longer. The fact that you could feel anything the other could, made it a thousand times more intense. 

“F-fuck I’m gonna cum like this,” Mark whined, rutting his clothed cock against your bare pussy faster, burying his head between your breasts and holding your body tightly against his. The constant friction on your clit had you gasping for air and you soon felt yourself cumming, staining his pants and shaking at the second orgasm you two had shared that night. 

Before you had any time to recover, Mark lifted you off the ground and sat you on the kitchen counter, taking his shirt off and stepping out of his pants and boxers carelessly. He positioned himself between your legs and pressed his naked body against yours, bringing your lips to his for another passionate kiss, and allowing his hands to touch every corner of you. 

Unconsciously you found yourself pressing your hips into his, moaning at the wet sounds that could be heard whenever his cock moved against your wet pussy. He was panting heavily into the messy kiss, physically shaking because of how much he wanted to be inside of you.

“Put it in, god, please, put it in,” you begged him.

“Shit, Y/N,” he groaned, giving you one last kiss before lining up his cock with your entrance and wincing when he could barely slide the tip in. “Y/N, y-you can’t take it-”

“I can, please-please Mark I...,” you slurred your words, grabbing his hips and trying to force him deeper into you. “I c-can.”

“You’re in pain, Y/N,” Mark hissed. The effects of the potion had faded away, but he wasn’t an idiot. He only needed to look at his size and then at yours.

“But, Mark,” you whined, kissing a spot on his neck that had him moaning out loud. “I really want it.”

He took a moment to think.He wanted it too, but he didn’t want to hurt you. 

“J-just go slowly, hmm?” you suggested as an alternative to stopping completely. 

Mark nodded. Slow, yeah. He could do that. “D-don’t move,” he warned you, sliding just a tiny bit more of his huge dick into your tight wet hole and groaning when your walls contracted around him. Okay, maybe he couldn’t do it. “Y/N, don’t do that…”

 He looked up to your face and saw that it was pointless to give you any orders right now. Your unfocused eyes and the way you bit your lip created an erotic sight that he would never be able to forget. “Fuck, Y/N” he pushed into you some more while looking at your blissful face and laughed in disbelief. “You’re fucking loving this, aren’t you?” he asked. When you only nodded dumbly, he inhaled sharply and kissed you hungrily, snapping his hips into yours harshly and holding your spasming body against his.

“Shit, d-did you just come?!” Mark asked incredulously, delivering kisses on the corner of your lips and all over your face while you sobbed. “You’re f-fucking insane, did you k-know that?” he spoke as he started fucking you fast and rough from the get go. “So pretty and s-sensitive, just for me.”

“S-so big,” you cried out.

“Yeah?” he cooed, changing the way he was fucking you to slow but deep. “Too big for my pretty girl?” god, he just loved how your eyes rolled back into your head and your hands reached blindly for something to hold onto, dropping a few kitchen supplies into the floor. “But you said you c-could take it, didn’t you?” he asked, thrusting into you particularly hard and making you scream.

“I gah-I c-can, I can,” you insisted, tears running down your face, which Mark quickly wiped off before he kissed you. “F-uh, faster-” you whined in between kisses.

“Faster?” Mark’s crimson eyes gleamed mischievously, and his hips snapped into yours fast twice, teasing you. “Is this no good?” he asked, resuming his slow pace at sliding in and out of you. You shook your head and tried to bring him closer with your legs around his waist. “Don’t you want to feel every.inch.of.me?” he hissed, accentuated each of the last words with sharp thrusts into your pussy.

You murmured something that Mark couldn’t quite understand, so he stopped his movements to let you catch your breath. “What was that?” he asked you, caressing your cheek. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

“B-bite me…” you croaked weakly.

 Mark’s cock twitched inside of you and it took all of his self control not to come right in that moment. 

“Don’t play with me, Y/N…” he warned you.

You shook your head, moving your hips against his and pulling his hair to bring him dangerously close to your neck. He gasped, salivating at the chance he was being given.

“Bite me, Mark…” you repeated and shuddered when he snarled against your skin and sank his teeth into your neck. You mewled and threw your head back, holding onto his shoulders. “O-oh god, Mark, M-mark fuck-ah!” 

 Without detaching his mouth from your neck, Mark went back to fucking you, this time fast and animalistically like you had asked him to, the pace so fierce that your moans were coming out as staccatos. 

“Uh-uh-aah-ah fuck-fuck, Ma-ark!” you sobbed, sure he was gonna break you, but loving every second of it. 

Mark could not stop as his cock started growing inside of you. “Y/N, Y/N shiiit gonna-...gonna k-knot you fuh- fuck, s-so pretty,” he panted against your neck, giving it gentle kisses as an apology for what he was about to do. “Oh, fuck- ooooh yeah, y-yeah-” he gasped and plunged into you viciously fast, letting his eyes roll to the back of his head and drooling all over your neck  as his abdomen contracted and spurts of cum spilled into you, knot securing it all inside your tight pussy. “Y/N-...Y/N, fuck,” he groaned as you scratched his back, leaving angry red marks all over him.

“Holy shit,” he breathed out once his fluttering heart calmed down enough for him to speak. “My pretty girl,” he purred, pecking your neck and then looking for your lips to kiss you lovingly. “All mine.”

“Yours,” you murmured against his lips, allowing him to kiss you again and again. "And you're mine."

“Does that mean you won’t try your potions on other men?” he asked you, half joking, half serious. 

“Why would I need to? You’re my perfect little toy, after all,” you teased him back, making him groan at the way you used his own words against him. “I’m joking.You’re not a toy,” you clarified, kissing him sweetly and looking into his eyes. “But you’re perfect.”

[solangelo]

On the evening of September 30th of 2014, @solangelo was founded and many mods and ten years later this blog is still active! In honor of the duration say hello to this event!

All sorts of artists and creators are welcome, submissions of fanart, fanfic, fanedits, playlists, cosplays and anything else your heart desires are welcome to be added to the collection!

Instead of providing alternate words, the prompts list has been divided into two sections, the first section seperates Will and Nico into individuals. The second prompt list is intended to be more focused on their relationship, and in most cases should be a word that connects to the corresponding word of that date for Will or Nico. For example, day 7 uses the words Refract and Crystal for Will and Nico and then Rainbow as their combined word.

The prompt list was intentionally designed to allow people who just want to create content for Nico or Will but not necessarily them together to also participate! Feel free to mix and match the lists throughout the week, or if you like an extra challenge you're welcome to try and use all 3 words for everyday of the week!

Prompts are only ever just a suggestion, so please feel free to submit works even if they are not necessarily inspired by one of the lists below!

Prompt List by date: Will // Nico

Day One (09/29/24) - Dawn // Stars

Day Two (09/30/24) - Growth // Earth

Day Three (10/01/24) - Light // Shade

Day Four (10/02/24) - Cure // Precious

Day Five (10/03/24) - Scry // Knowing

Day Six (10/04/24) - Endure // Insomnia

Day Seven (10/05/24) - Refract // Crystal

Prompt List by Date: Relationship Based Prompts

Day One (09/29/24) - Hearth

Day Two (09/30/24) - Life

Day Three (10/01/24) - Boundaries

Day Four (10/02/24) - Love

Day Five (10/03/24) - Reflection

Day Six (10/04/24) - Confession

Day Seven (10/05/24) - Rainbow

Please tag any submissions @solangelo directly or send us an ask for the best chances of us seeing your post, or you can also use the tag #solangeversary 2024. You can also always post or send links to content you've made for another platform like Instagram, Twitter, or Ao3 for us to share here. Late submissions are always welcome!

If you don't vibe with these prompts, you're welcome to check out @solangeloweek's auctober prompt list also!

Happy creating!

All art in the post is edited from the same wonderful creator of our header and pfp!

[chrisevansonly]

𝐀 𝐋𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐀𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐩𝐭2 | 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜

✯social media au

✯charles leclerc x female reader

✯so will baby leclerc be a boy or a girl?

✯a few people wanted pt2 so here we go:) there may be a pt3 as well, kinda like a little smau series as i did with mom and dad! i’m slowly getting back into writing i promise:)

part 1 part 3

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, lilyhme, arthur_leclerc and 1M others

baby leclerc is a boy!! charles and i couldn’t be happier!💙💙💙

tagged charles_leclerc

see 245,000 comments

username BOY DAD BOY DAD

username im so happy for you guys!!!

arthur_leclerc 💙💙

liked by ynleclerc

lilyhme congratulations you two!!💙

>ynleclerc thank you my angel!!🩷

username that’s gonna be the cutest baby🥹

charles_leclerc i love you and our little boy so much already❤️

>ynleclerc we love you more🥺

username oh they’re gonna be the best parents ever!

charles_leclerc

liked by ynleclerc, scuderiaferrari, leclercpascale and 2M others

little trip to spoil this mama before baby boy gets here, safe to say she is feeling very relaxed❤️

tagged ynleclerc

see 345,000 comments

username y/n looking so beautiful as ever 😍

username SHES GLOWING!!!

leclercpascale look at her!! oh she looks so beautiful

liked by charles_leclerc

>ynleclerc merci maman🥺🩷

>username y/n calling pascale maman😭

ynleclerc i love you so so much char, thank you for spoiling me and loving me the way you do i’m so so lucky 🩷🩷

>charles_leclerc always and forever chérie

username charles & y/n forever 😭

wagsoff1 the best grid couple by far

ynleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

ynleclerc

liked by charles_leclerc, wagsoff1, francisca.cgomes and 1M others

please come home and take us for a boat ride, we miss you too much:(

tagged charles_leclerc

see 213,000 comments

username pls why am i crying😭

username MY HEART CANT TAKE IT

charles_leclerc amour :(

charles_leclerc i’ll be home tomorrow i promise, as soon as i can

>ynleclerc why not now:(

>carlossainz55 i’ll make the race go extra fast y/n!

>ynleclerc okay:(

username watch charles leave the race😂

arthur_leclerc i can take you on the yacht if you want? carla and i can pick you up?

>ynleclerc oh yes please🥹🥹

>arthur_leclerc okay 10 mins!! 💙

ynleclerc added to their story!

*comments disabled*

carla.brocker

liked by charles_leclerc, ynleclerc, apmmonaco and 765,000 others

just a leclerc family outing in monaco, the trio is back together!! (sorry charles ur out)

tagged arthur_leclerc and ynleclerc

see 69,000 comments

username wait the trio is iconic

username YES THEYRE BACK TOGETHER

arthur_leclerc it would be a trio if you two didn’t DITCH ME

>carla.brocker we did no such thing

ynleclerc thank you for cheering me up today, i had the most fun❤️❤️

>carla.brocker anytime babe!! can’t wait for baby leclerc to get here🥰

charles_leclerc thank you for taking care of her while i’m away🩷

charles_leclerc are you sure they ditched you @/arthur_leclerc or are you just slow 😃

>arthur_leclerc oh you’re so funny😐

username THE BROTHERS ARE FIGHTING!! 🤣

[nogodsnomorales]

Know that I am going to get pretty serious here, as this post is about Punkflower. I am going to talk about the age situation, the blatant racism ABOUT this ship, and to also talk about the ship itself*. There is also some talk about the shippers/non-shippers + Punkflower antis in general.

[*nothing negative! just like.. discussing it as a whole, because everybody needs to be aware of some important things. the shippers, non-shippers/people on neutral ground, AND the haters/antis.]

There is a BIG wall of text incoming, but all of it is organized to its very best at what I could do!! I first wrote this in docs, I did my best to make it not a whole chaotic mess to read through. It's a big post, but there's a lot of spacing and some text is coloured, so it will be very easy to read.

This is a very detailed and THROUGH post, so it is slightly recommended to read on computer for the best viewing experience.

[It's not needed as you can still just read on your phone/etc, I do want you lovely people to have the best viewing experience possible.]

There will be an expand button, so I will not clog your feed and the tags.

TDLR;

Dear punkflower shippers,

your prayers have been ANSWERED. DO NOT WORRY ABOUT SHIPPING PUNKFLOWER NOW 🙏

punkflower shippers, do not live in fear no more, for I am here now.

Sincerely, 

tumblr user: godunforgiving

Edited Note (06/21); FYI, I am muting this! Read the edit change log at the end of this post for more information. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

punkflower talk/analysis(?) + talking about Hobie’s age

This entire post is a discussion of various things, of my own thoughts and opinions! Some of the talk is about the posts + comments I have seen other people say about this ship [mainly questioning and worried ones.] All of the pieces of information that I knew were scattered, so I wanted to gather all of what I could find, and put it in a singular post for those still worrying.

[Also where others can actually just refer to this post and just read thru here first, instead of having to spend a lot of time going through the Punkflower tag to desperately find info!]

I would have gotten this finished and posted days ago, but you know, usual IRL things slowed me down, and I had to spend my day in the ER yesterday, lol.. I’m okay as of now! Just have to take it easy, but I really did want to finish writing my ass off with this post, since I know it’s important to me and for many others out there.

Take your time to read through this, and please absolutely feel free to add any of your input/extra knowledge/anything that I should add onto this post. DMs can be the best, or just through the comments can suffice, because I can and will edit anything into this post [that is accurate aka there is backed up evidence/sources to go along with it.] If you do want to see something added here, just tell me and I'll see if I can manage!

I genuinely hope that this post can be helpful to you, as it will be helpful for me!

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Please know that; I will directly quote from many people, as all of them will be credited properly by being mentioned down below and leaving their username (that is linked back) with their respective quotes, because their own pieces of text really helped build this post! I cannot thank each person enough.

Do not be a piece of shit and go after or ‘witch hunt’ any of them. Respect their own privacy and being.

users mentioned (IOOA): @comfortingnightmare, @luvvnobo, @ghostspider-isms, @saltylemonade13, @artisan-is-bored, @bellamer, @uglynavel, @peachypea0ny (fyi, site is not allowing me to tag), @crownecromancer, @raspberryjars, @spideyzpoolsp, @hamiltonforpowerpoint

[If you are one of the mentioned people, and you want yourself to be removed or become anonymous, please let me know ASAP!]

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Notes:

If you are colourblind (some of the text is coloured fyi! colours used are blue, pink, and purple), or have difficulty reading text due to it being too small, or can't read the font, etc, please let me know! I can give you a google docs link of this entire post that is best suited for your needs. No, you will not be a burden to me. Your needs are very important, and I will want to assist with the best that I can do with that!

I, godunforgiving, am on a mix of a positive + neutral ground on the topic of shipping Punkflower. I absolutely adore the comic!Punkflower, and I am fond of ATSV!Punkflower with the way I view it. Reason why I said neutral, know that I am not against the ships by any means!! But I guess why I say that is because there wasn’t a lot of canon media to consume [ATSV!Punkflower], and I want more [Also note that I have NOT seen the movie yet.] I don’t usually ‘do’ shipping when it comes to various franchises, I guess it’s mainly just not my thing? But I do know that I’ve come to like Punkflower.

I do not ‘do’ discourses, nor do I intend to actively join them! This is my first time doing something like this / this being my first ‘discourse’, yet I hope for it to be my last. I made this post with the pure intention to help the Punkflower shippers. Do know that!! I know that many people do not like the topic of discourses, but this one and the problems I’ve seen revolving around Punkflower, I just have to say something. Bc idk if anybody else is going to [with the way I did this post], considering the mess that occurred days ago, but someone has to and has to do it properly.

I am autistic, so I may process words + information differently, or even ‘incorrectly’. So if a sentence doesn’t make sense, due to perhaps my misuse of grammar, etc, please do not hesitate to ask/reach out, and I can do my best to re-explain it to you.

Negative comments [and comments directly to this post where the person is actually spreading misinfo], will be deleted. Know that if you decide that you disagree with this post, then okay! I am not bothering you, just as I hope that you will revert to ignoring me, instead of hating on me. Please have the common decency to just be kind or even don’t say anything at all, and carry on with your day.

If you have any concerns regarding this post, do not hesitate to reach out to me.

this post was originally inspired by a friend, then originally created for @feuille-morte, but it is finished for the rest of the punkflower fans, ily all. take care of yourselves!! anything for these cute silly little guys ok (and the entire punkflower nation)

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

let’s get started with an introduction.

“what is Punkflower?”

Punkflower is a slash [aka queer] relationship between two black male teenagers, Hobie Brown and Miles Morales. Usually, it is perceived a romantic relationship, as some other people only see the pairing as a platonic duo and such. I do not know more forms of Punkflower, but I will use the 'main' two forms in this post. Comic![SG!]Punkflower [SG is Spider-Geddon, a comic series first released on Sept 2018], and Across the Spider-Verse aka ATSV!Punkflower.

Think of it as the same ships with the same characters, but in different fonts.

Comic!SG!Punkflower has existed for nearly 5 years now, likely first existing sometime in late 2018 to early-mid 2019. Both Miles and Hobie are very close in age in the comics, at around 16 to 17 years old. Away from Spider-Geddon(?), but still on the topic of comics, Hobie is still 16-17 in the comics.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

“people are saying Punkflower is a problematic ship!”

The main [and probably only] source of this misinformation, is from a clip that was cropped to be posted with the intention of spreading heavy misinformation (We will get into that next.) So, as far as I am aware, and know; Punkflower antis are throwing around p/do allegations, because they hate the ship and they are outraged with people enjoying it. This hate is clearly rooted with racism, and homophobia. So, no, Punkflower is not a minor x adult ship!

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

“the interview talk, what happened, and what is actually real?”

If you’ve watched the interview, you can easily see that they were talking about the brainstorming process of developing Hobie's early ideas for his character. A director mentioned that in the early concept stage, Hobie was originally going to be 19-20 [This wasn’t even our Hobie, but Prowler Hobie.]

A person cut a very small clip of the mentioned interview, and uploaded it, a clip that was EXTREMELY out of context. 

The uploader cut out the part explaining that Hobie’s ‘original’ age had changed as his character was being developed.

So from this, and no context given, a lot of people were instantly quick to hate; since it was on purpose to make the entire ship, AND those who enjoyed the ship, look extremely bad. What happened was not okay, yet this disgusting behaviour is at an attempt to be justified [and those people are trying to justify literal racism and homophobia.]

“19-20 thing that the directors mentioned were Hobie’s early designs ideas but those eventually changed as his character changed. Even one of the directors said its up to interpretation plus even his VA was all hinty towards Gwen and hobie so honestly its up to you what his age is" - comfortingnightmare

As soon as the clip came out, I had started to see a number of people saying that, apparently, Hobie looked like he was in his 20s to his 30s** (while also throwing subtle/discreet hits towards the Punkflower ship), but this was after the clip came out.

**Literally saw someone on Tumblr say that he looked like 28, and trying to shut down the idea of Hobie being a teenager. Like be completely serious with me right now..

Things don’t quite add up here. This was because of WHAT Hobie only looked like, and now it just has to be racially motivated, as there are no solid explanations or reasonings for their behaviour and disgust. Those people just look bad [as they should.]

So, no, Hobie is not 19-20. Another director had confirmed that Hobie’s age is UP TO INTERPRETATION.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

[TLDR; The interview got taken completely out of context from a clip that made people start throwing SERIOUS accusations left and right.. Since more people actually later found out that the clip was taken out of context [instead of doing research], the situation died down, but people are walking on eggshells now. The haters were being desperate likely because Punkflower is a black queer/mlm relationship, since there is no solid explanation for this hating.]

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

“So.. what can we interpret Hobie’s age as?”

That is where I come in! I have many reasons that can help you decide what Hobie's age is to you. And those many reasons are speculated on Hobie's age being 16-17, as many users already guess that Hobie's age is equivalent to a teenager's age. I also believe this idea, as there are many things that already support this thought process.

[But if you like.. (god, I hope nobody does) go through this list and conclude that Hobie is 18+ and continue to ship that Hobie and 15 yr old Miles (or any of the minors).. GTFOH.]

1. Hobie Brown in other media (I’m talking about the comics for instance) is commonly shown for Hobie to be a teenager at either 16 or 17 years old.

“Hobie is in fact labeled as ‘badmouthed teenager’ since 2014 and is 16-17 in the comics and that just because he doesnt have a confirmed/canonical age in ATSV, hes still in the age range of a teenager (16-18)" - luvvnobo

2. Topic of the spider-bite. 

ATSV!Hobie is likely to be 16-17 years old (18 at the latest), meaning that he would have been bit at the ages of 13-15. So IF Hobie was bit 3 years ago / at 14 years old, then he would be 16-17.

Realistically, this really could have happened, considering Hobie’s living conditions! [aka what led to Hobie getting bit by a radioactive spider in the comics.] If he indeed gets bit at 14 years old (like how Miles and Gwen got bit at that age for example), then either 16 or 17 yrs old.

Again, with how he lived; if he got bit at 13 = 15-16 years old in crrnt events of ATSV. [If you don’t know of Hobie’s conditions, in the comics I’m pretty sure he, like, basically lived on the streets as a homeless teenager]

“During the "Spider-Verse" storyline, the Earth-138 version of Spider-Man is revealed to be Hobart Brown, originally operating as Spider-Punk. He is a homeless teenager who was transformed by a spider that was irradiated as part of President Norman Osborn's toxic waste dumping.” - Spider-Punk: Wikipedia

The topic of the bite / needing to know if Hobie was (x) age when he got bit, isn’t very serious, as he is already grouped with 3 kids.

3. It would be unlikely (and also weird) for a four man crew to be 3/4 teenagers and 1 adult;

WHILE ALSO implying that the mentioned ‘adult’ and one of the mentioned teenagers could’ve had something going on. [Even if nothing really happened (keyword = implying), and how Pavitr treated it in that way, implies that Hobie isn’t that much older than the three.] [I would have kept this reason combined with the Spider bite topic aka reason No.2, since it’s actually referenced off of pastelnightgale’s post, just that this paragraph alone is solid enough as a separate reason.]

4. Hobie’s mannerisms.

Note, I haven’t seen the movie, but I have seen many clips. From those clips, he’s definitely a teenager at least, it made me feel like Hobie was 16 or 17 years old. I’ve asked two of my brothers; they said that he definitely was their age [both being 17.]

“my two cents on the age debate is like. hobie doesn’t have the vibes of an adult even if his age is up to “interpretation”. like i’m eighteen and bro has definitely gotta be younger than that. he makes my “stupid younger sibling” sense go haywire." - ghostspider-isms

5. If you look up “how old is hobie brown”

You will already see many people speculating that Hobie is likely to be around the same age range as Miles and Gwen [if not a bit older.]

Again, Hobie is already 16-17 years old in the comics. 

“in the spiderverse, we have seen that it is common for most spiders (gwen and miles specifically) to get bitten around 14. hobie states he’s been spider-man for three years, meaning he’s most likely 16-17." - artisan-is-bored

6. “Like if Hobie is really 19+ then why is it only a problem with Punkflower?? Wouldn’t the whole love triangle thing be a problem????" - saltylemonade13

Yes. It would be a SERIOUS problem. It also would make the other ships [Chaipunk, others with minors in them] very problematic and illegal ships. But Hobie isn't 18+.

7. Ageing down process happening to various characters in Spider Verse, and Hobie non affected?

If Gwen and the other spiders are aged down in Spiderverse, then it doesn’t make sense that Hobie was not aged down like the others.

8. Hobie literally hangs out around teenagers.

If an adult is constantly hanging out with other children, then that obviously would be the first problem. I wouldn’t really need to keep talking any more about this one. Because if a 19-20 year old was spending a majority of his time around young teenagers, ages ranging 15 through 17, and not really with anybody else his age or above, then yes, that’s already weird.

“it’s also implied that miles is jealous of gwen and hobie. why would the directors make a key plot point of the story be that hobie is a grown ass man hanging out with a bunch of teenagers? and that he might have a thing with one of them???" - artisan-is-bored

9. Genetics do not matter within age.

This is one of my most common quotes by now. Hobie is indeed very tall at almost 6 ft, yes. No, it does not mean that he is above 18+ years old. Hobie can be over 6 ft tall and still be 16-17 years old.

I have seen so many teenagers at drastically different heights, but still be the same age. Many of them being over 6 ft [180 cm], and still being in my age range, and having met a 5’10” 8th grader [aka 13 yrs old] years ago. Both of my previously-mentioned brothers are 6 ft and over 6 ft, yet they are only 17.

“people can look one age and be another." - artisan-is-bored

“hobie’s description as a character. hobie is a foul mouthed TEENAGER. that has been his description for the past five years." - artisan-is-bored

10. “how do i tell them Punkflower has been a thing since 2018 or 2019 and they have interacted in the comics (they are close in age)" - luvvnobo

11. “He has to be an adult, because he goes to pubs!!” Let’s be absolutely HONEST here.

“dude is BFF’s with the Riri of his universe, she can probably whip up a fake ID in no time and even if Riri isn’t in the Spiderverse, he still gets around and knows people. he’s definitely cool with someone who makes fake ID’s." - bellamer

What bellamer said. To add onto this, a pub is different from a BAR as well.

If you look up “what is a pub vs bar” your first result will be this.

To also add, all bars in England aren’t considered pubs.

“If you’re 16 or under, you may be able to go to a pub (or premises primarily used to sell alcohol) if you’re accompanied by an adult. However, this isn’t always the case. It can also depend on the specific conditions for that premises. It’s illegal to give alcohol to children under 5." From the official GOV of the UK website

But literally, let’s be honest here, Hobie would already know at least one person who will help him get in a pub, if he cannot do so himself. If Hobie is constantly going to pubs, then that does not mean he is getting drinks 24/7 when he is there, unless stated otherwise. Pubs focus on serving food and to give drinks [upon request] to go along with the meal.

Before 1995, children under the age of 14 were NOT allowed in pubs in England and Wales. And Hobie is definitely by no means 14. He is likely 16, or 17. He can already drink, with adult supervision, at 16 in pubs. But we know that Hobie is no law-abiding Spider-man.

12. “Hobie wouldn’t be able to own his own place!”

“it’s a key part of hobie’s comic backstory that he used to be homeless. once again, the breaking the law point still stands. wouldn’t be surprised if hobie bought an apartment with a fake ID, was squatting, or was staying in some sort equivalent of the community center that he used as his main group’s operation headquarters in the comics.” - artisan-is-bored

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I do not think that another director/anybody who worked on the movie will come out and say that Hobie is actually 18+ at this point. I CAN be wrong in the future, but right now, he is not, and there are my reasons for why I strongly agree with the idea of Hobie being a teenager.

ALTHOUGH, even IF a director comes out and says that ATSV!Hobie is actually 18+, obviously all of the ATSV!ships with him and the other minors should STOP RIGHT NOW. But as of now [06/13/23 (when I first wrote this)], and from what we already know, I do not see anything wrong with ATSV!Punkflower and my views.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

The racism revolving Punkflower is disgusting.

I’ve seen a lot of people bashing Punkflower when the whole misinfo-hobie-being-19/20-situation occurred, but ONLY with Punkflower [from what I’ve seen.] I didn’t see any of this happening to the other ships that Hobie is in / shipped with Gwen, and Pavitr.

I have not seen any, quite literally nobody, complaining about any other ship that isn’t Punkflower, and it’s insanely overwhelming and confusing?? People don’t complain when it comes to Hobie x Gwen, but if it’s with two queer black boys? Huge problem all of a sudden.

“Love how when it was Hobie and Gwen no one batted an eye but as soon as people started shipping two black males together all of a sudden everyone’s disgusted and outraged” - uglynavel

“none of y’all had a problem w gwen and hobie, but when hobie started getting shipped with miles and pav? y’all got pissed. get your racist and homophobic head out of your ass. even if hobie IS an adult in the movie, that still doesn’t mean that shipping him with miles in the comics suddenly isn’t valid. newsflash, gwen is MUCH OLDER than hobie in his universe.” - artisan-is-bored

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Other quotes, that I wanted to point out, but I didn’t sort them into a spot;

“There are a lot more weird problems in the ATSV fandom, yet people are worried about Flowerpunk and whether Hobie is of age, or not. Those problems are full on grown ass people sexualizing Miles, Gwen, and likely more. There’s already stuff about Peter B. and Miles ship, and THAT is an active problem on hand. More people need to worry about all of that instead of a guy who has an up-to-interpretation age (but is strongly, likely, a 16-17 year old if not an adult.)” - peachypea0ny

“I can’t even enjoy comic versions of punkflower without me being called a pedo or having multiple fucking comments telling me over and over that punkflower is a proship.” - uglynavel

“I’m sorry it’s just really not fucking fair what In THE ACTUAL MOVIE it can imply something between Gwen and Hobie but the SECOND people started shipping two black boys together then it became a huge fucking problem, here’s the thing if Hobie is actually older and they never say that in the movie but imply something to the audience that him and a sixteen year old girl could possibly have something between them THEN THATS GROSS I DONT CARE HOW GOOD THE MOVIE IS! But Hobie is always, in other crossovers and his comics he is around 16, he has met Miles before in canon the ship’s not new, it was just small.” - crownecromancer (Edited to make sense, by me, godunforgiving.)

“punkflower is originally a comic ship, its been around for ages before atsv, its normal for shippers to crossover into different areas where the same characters are. he doesnt have an age on his wiki and why would he be said to have a love triangle with gwen if he WAS 19/20, idk why ppl have such a problem with punkflower but not with hobie and gwen??” - raspberryjars

“this is what happens when you believe in misinformation on the internet. no, there is no age gap, because hobie does not even have a canon age. if you watch the interview, instead of 10 seconds of it, he says it was early concepts of hobie. another director has confirmed his age is up to interpretation.. so. yall rlly need to stop with this, its weird asl. this whole thing was rooted in racism and homophobia, stop spreading misinformation I BEG.” - spideyzpoolsp

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Another disclaimer/notice;

PLEASE, PLEASE STOP BELIEVING IN EVERYTHING THAT YOU SEE!! EVEN IN TIKTOK OR TUMBLR!

IF it’s a piece of information that could be misinformation revolving around Punkflower or Hobie Brown, or anything, DO find out if it is real or fake asap!

I’m using a method that I remember from my elementary school that was constantly talked about [can’t believe I’d bring it up in a post about a ship years later], however it really does pay out and work anywhere else tbh. The “Stop, Think, Act method”.

STOP = Pause, if it distresses you; then take a breath to calm down, avoid doing anything on impulse aka don't do anything without thinking carefully beforehand.

THINK = Instead of the “what is the problem, what are the options, best path forward?” in the method itself, we will reuse this but change stuff up that can apply directly to this post. So after stopping and calming down, we will think carefully and review what we already KNOW. If it’s where the piece of information is easily seen/known as misinfo, then you are good. If the piece of misinfo is affecting something that we already know, then we move onto the next step.

ACT = “Proceed with the best option. Act carefully, and revise if needed.” The best option forward from thinking, is to do research, and make sure that it is actually real, and not misinformation with lies laced within. IF it is indeed misinformation, then it is the best to alert others, with proof.

If you are thinking “But why even mention that method??” The best example to use this method is with the age discourse blowup. A LOT of people believed in the misinformation very, very fast. What should’ve happened is that the mentioned method should’ve occurred early, to help prevent most of the freak out and its damages. But many users may not have thought of that, or even know the method, so it is okay. At least it calmed down a lot as of now, just that people are now likely afraid.

[Note; I am NOT blaming anybody!! I also freaked out a bit too, but I stuck to what I already knew, until I found more information. At first I heard “Hobie is 19-20!!!!” I figured that it must’ve been misinfo through what I already knew, because adding all of what I knew and this uproar of info, it just didn’t add up from what I alrd knew. but I still researched and did my homework!! Just that more people should naturally second-guess things that they are suspicious of and also be aware of that method and to apply it online, as it is already useful in real life!]

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Wrapping this post up, finally.

It’s sad to see different Punkflower fans fight each other. But it’s also outrageous and annoying to see the plat!Punkflower shippers, who see Miles and Hobie strictly in a brotherly relationship, to throw the term ‘!ncest / pseudo-!ncest’ against the romantical Punkflower shippers.. Like holy shit, that doesn’t make you any better. Can people, please, stop throwing serious accusations against other people so nonchalantly?

These accusations are SO serious and life changing, even if it's pointed at the wrong person. But people are just too ignorant to realize that unfortunately.

“You see him (Hobie) as 19/20 who’s a big brother to the other spiders? Cool! You see him as 16/17 rebel teen amazing!” - hamiltonforpowerpoint

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

End post.

Reblogs, likes, and comments of your own opinions of this post are so welcome!

Again, ily all and take care of yourselves!!

and again, if anything you think that should be added onto the post, let me know! have a great day everybody

A friend asked what’s up with the discourse, asked me to make a post, after hours of research - I absolutely fucking DELIVERED. Love you guys.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------—

Edit #1 (06/15); had to reformat some things since it just looked broken to me! Using the editor on mobile is a PAIN.. 0/10.

Edit #2 (06/16); an edit update! I rewrote some things (to hope to make the post sound more better), added some stuff in the notes section and some throughout the post itself, updated the crediting so the quotes used are credited and linked back to hell!!!! bc crediting others is awesome! and the post is also def over 4.2k words lol

Edit #3 (06/17); An anon told me that I was “misusing” the 'proship' term, so I edited the post. Proshitters can go to hell for all I care. To clarify, I am talking about problematic shippers. Edit #4 (06/19); oh my god 600+ notes?? i hope all of you are having an EXCELLENT month okay.. i love you guys <3 /plat

Edit #5 (06/21); I am muting this! I saw some people reply to this post, but I just do not have the ability to respond to them (Selective mutism), I did write “drafts” to them, but I do not feel like polishing it and responding. Just busy with other things, honestly! I may end up responding some time later, so yeah. If you have any concerns or inquiries regarding this post, do not hesitate and feel free to DM me!

Every once a few weeks I may check up on this post as well, until I stop altogether.

[sailoryooons]

Gods of the Dark | Two | myg (m)

☾ Pairing: Dream god!Yoongi x f. human!reader

☾ Summary: Don’t ask for help in the dark. It’s an old tale you always heard whispered among the people of your village. But when you find yourself dragged kicking by the man you’re to marry, you have little choice but to beg for help long after the sun has set. The god who answers your pleas promises to save you, but every deal comes with a price. 

☾ Word Count: 21,443

☾ Genre: Fantasy, angst, strangers to lovers, smut

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Sexist and patriarchal society inspired by medieval europe, a lot of world building and discussion about theories/concept of dreams, discussions of morals and ethics, world building, angst, mentions/light depictions of an abusive family, discussions of gender roles and forced marriages, attempted murder via arson, sexual dream sequences, depictions of oral (f. receiving), exposed bodies (in a brothel), pining, townsfolk essentially bullying reader, intense nightmare sequences, light depictions of PTSD (including memories of almost drowning/being physically attacked), explicit language, idiots who are obviously into one another being idiots, recreational drinking, topics of desire, feelings of shame, depictions of anxiety and fear, slight voyeurism, attempted murder

☾ Published: December 2, 2023

☾ A/N: It's finally here! This chapter took so long to write and I want to apologize for how long it took. The creative process can be so difficult sometimes, and I have been having a very hard year, which reflects in my writing. Thank you for sticking with me - I really hope this chapter is okay. This originally wasn't going to be as slow of a burn as it is, but this is where the story took me naturally, so I hope that's okay with everyone. I am going to be adding an extra chapter to this now to tell the story the way I want, so we will have five total chapters to this. I am already working on chapter three, and my goal is to write just this series until the next three chapters are done! Note: The sections of italics are used to indicate dream sequences for this fic - the way I use these are very specific and with intent... that's the only hint I will give you.

A huge thank you to @here2bbtstrash for being my beta reader - I give them huge beta projects with very little time to do them, and this story would not be nearly as polished or tuned as it is now without them. Also thank you to everyone who has been so encouraging and patient with me - your kind words are not lost on me and I'm thankful for you all!

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Eyes in the sky crying geysers How dare I have private desires

-

First is your mother’s screaming. It’s loud enough to make you clap your hands over your ears, wincing as she drops all of the things in her hands. Second is your father storming into the house like a hurricane, an axe clutched in his hand from cutting wood in the yard. When he sees you, he blanches and takes a few steps back, raising the axe. 

“Demon,” he whispers. He reaches for your mother and pulls her behind him. “You are a demon.” 

“No, I-”

Without a warning, your father launches the axe at you. You scream, arms going up to block your face, unable to dodge the attack. There’s a loud crack as the axe hits an invisible barrier. You feel your hand fly to your open mouth, staring at the axe that’s now hewn in two on the floor. 

Silence follows the destruction of the weapon. In that silence, it occurs to you that your father has attempted to kill you, and was only stopped by whatever protection Yoongi promised you. The realization is dizzying and you stumble away from your parents a little, bumping into the wall that separates the kitchen and the entryway. 

No one says anything at first. Your mother clings to your father, trembling violently. Her hair is greyer than you remember and it looks like the last few days haven’t been kind to her. But she has always been soft and weak.

It’s your father who no longer looks the same. Always such an imposing figure in your life, he looks aged. His face is wrinkled, his hair is grey. His presence is so much smaller than you remember, once full of rage and ferocity, now just a terrified man in a doorway. 

You cannot believe this is the man you’ve spent most of your life afraid of. Where once stood a great fear of yours now stands nothing more than a shadow of a man. Weak. Afraid. Vulnerable. 

“You can’t hurt me anymore,” you say in a voice much steadier than you feel. “You can’t marry me off, you can’t make me burn my books, and you can’t hurt me anymore.”

“What kind of demon are you?”

It occurs to you that you could tell him you’re not a demon. You’re just you, with a little added protection. But the realization that they are afraid of you wakes up something ugly inside of you. Something oily, that slithers, something wicked and sharp.

You don’t have to tell them you’re not a demon. You don’t have to tell them that you are. They have come to that conclusion themselves, and it has put them beneath you. Afraid of you. You’re more powerful than you’ve ever been in this home. 

So you let them think you are. “The kind that survived Nathaniel Laudermill beating me in the woods and trying to drown me.” 

Your father straightens. “That wasn’t supposed to happen! You weren’t supposed to run and he- he wasn’t supposed to hurt you.”

“Well, he did. And he paid for it, didn’t he?” 

When you say it, you have a sneaking suspicion that Nathaniel Laudermill is dead. When your father nods feebly at your question, the knowledge slides into place. You don’t feel bad. It almost horrifies you that you don’t, but you think of the burning in your lungs, his nails against your skin, the roaring of the water. 

You’re glad Nathaniel is dead.

“What do you want from us? Money? Our lives?”

“Nothing.” You realize it’s true, suddenly stricken with wondering why you came back at all. “I want you to go about your lives, and let me do what I will.” 

Pushing off the wall, you turn around and head out the front door. You feel their eyes on you as you go, but you don’t look back.

For now, you walk out into the woods. Crickets chirp happily, growing quiet as you walk by and starting once again when you’re a distance from them. Under the shade of the trees, it’s cold. The river isn’t flooded up into the woods anymore, but the ground is soft beneath your feet, mud giving way to your steps.

It feels different when you walk through the woods this time. They aren’t as vibrant. No Tiera is lurking in the boughs of the wisteria. There’s no lake with merfolk peering at you with large, alien eyes. A world that was once so full of life and peace feels unsaturated now. Devoid of color. 

A nasty feeling creeps up on you as you walk. You look for the creatures of the wood, hoping to see their bright colors and little lives. A snake slithers away from you, but it’s just that. A snake with normal scales, in a normal bush. A rabbit rushes by, quick as lightning, a blur of fur.

None of the birds have plumes of purple feathers. There’s no trilling song that sounds like dreams spun into notes, no smell of drifting sweetness on the wind. The air is damp and cold, and it smells like fresh earth and water. But there’s nothing about it that seems as vibrant as before.

By the river, the water rushes as fast as your thoughts. You weren’t sure what to expect when you came home, but it wasn’t this. It wasn’t your parents thinking you were a demon, but that isn’t the worst part. 

The worst part is that only after two weeks, your world has lost its magic. It pales in comparison to Yoongi’s world or even your imagination. You stare at the water you used to think rushed with so much promise, the waxy leaves that used to contain so many shades of green. Now they’re just leaves and the river is just water. 

A tingle presses at your neck. You turn, expecting Yoongi to be looming behind you. There’s no one there, but the feeling of awareness doesn’t go away. Frowning, you lean against the tree and stare out into the woods unseeing. 

Clove and cinnamon hang in the air. You close your eyes, inhaling. The tingle at the back of your neck feels familiar. In your mind, you feel it like a phantom touch, sliding from your neck across your shoulder, dragging down the length of your arms until there is a soft twitch in your palm. 

It’s easy to imagine Yoongi this way. But when you open your eyes, Yoongi isn’t there. The feeling doesn’t go away. But you always have that feeling out here, the something of other. Your heart flutters at the thought of the god lurking somewhere that you can’t see. 

A silly thought. You brush it away, trying not to delude yourself into fantasies that Yoongi has any interest in you beyond your deal and beyond that night in the woods where you asked for help. Yoongi’s kindness is just that, and though you dream of him often, you know the difference between your dreams and reality. 

Instead of leaving to go back to the house, you sit down on the ground. Closing your eyes, you imagine a brighter world. A more magical world. It’s easier to do this than to contend with the fact that the woods you loved so dearly are not as you remember them. 

This, at least, is familiar. Sitting in the woods for hours and imagining worlds away from yours. Now, you imagine a specific world, made up of twilight and mountains in the distance. With a wonderful castle full of rooms saturated with candlelight and books you’re learning how to read.

When your stomach growls, you’re forced to stop your imagination and get up. You feel a bit better, knowing that you can at least remember what Yoongi’s dream realm looks like. Two weeks. You have two weeks until you can go back, and until then, Yoongi expects you to study. 

Back at the house, your parents stare in silence when you enter. You hardly look at them, walking to the kitchen as though they are merely ghosts harboring the same space as you. Your movements are methodical as you make yourself lunch. When you reach for the knife to cut cheese, you feel the pointed look of your parents. 

Part of you wants to turn around and scream at them to scare them. Another part of you has divorced the idea of them as your parents already. Yet you do nothing, biting a piece of cheese as you finish plating your meal and go to your room. They say nothing. 

Sitting on your bed, you eat your meal. The world is quiet for the most part, though the muted sound of nature hums beyond your closed window. You realize there is a desk in your room stacked with books, parchment, and inkwells. 

Heart racing, you get up from your bed and cross the room. You wipe your fingers on your shirt as you pick up a note written in Yoongi’s neat scrawl. You chew your lip as you look at the swirls and dips of letters on paper, immediately intimidated at the prospect of making sense of the writing. 

You take the note with you to the bed and begin to parse the letters and sentences apart. It takes all of your concentration, going over the sounds each letter makes in your head to build a word. It’s not fast work and it isn’t easy, but after a while, you work out the first sentence. 

Do not forget to practice every day. 

A smile makes your mouth twitch, both in pride that you managed to work out the sentence and at the thought of Yoongi hunched over his desk writing you a note.  

The second sentence is trickier. Afternoon light pours through your window as you spend another fifteen minutes sounding out the letters, quietly muttering them to yourself until you’ve got full words to build the sentence.

I will be watching, so you better practice as often as you can. 

You bite your lip. It sounds like a playful threat, quietly muttered in one of Yoongi’s teasing moments. You can almost hear the soft rasp of his voice and picture the smirk that would accompany his words. You shiver before reading the final sentence. 

Sleep well, and dream as often as you can.

The desk is a nice touch. You don’t remember seeing it this morning and you wonder how it got there. Remembering Yoongi’s magic is overwhelming. You’re still unsure what the limits of his power are, if there are any at all. 

Hunched over the papers, you begin to trace letters again. It feels good to have the quill in your hand. You’re careful not to spill the ink all over the paper like you do when you’re practicing in the library - you have a limited amount of parchment here, compared to Yoongi’s endless amounts in the House of Dreams. 

It does beg the question whether he’ll drop you off more magical paper if you run out, though. 

By the time your hand is cramping too much to practice more and your head hurts, it’s evening. Your parents are locked away in their room when you come out. You can hear the soft voice of your mother go silent when they hear you enter the kitchen for food before heading out to the porch.

Twilight skies stretch above you. Sitting on the edge of the porch, you watch the world fade from purple to black. The stars begin to dot the sky, the moon making her climb upward. You grin, feeling relieved that maybe not all of your world has lost its magic. 

Perhaps it’s just the light of day you’re no longer interested in. The night is far more mysterious and alluring, calling to you as you finish your last bite of dinner. You set your plate down on the porch and hop down, feeling the soft grass beneath your bare feet.

The last time you entered the woods in the dark, you were almost killed. That memory alone makes you pause at the edge of the woods. Your mouth dries a little bit and though the urge to step into the shadow of the night is strong, the memory of Nathaniel’s hands on your hair is stronger.

You turn around quickly and walk back to the house, picking up the plate along the way. It feels shameful to be afraid of the dark woods, a sour taste in your mouth as you lock yourself in your room and crawl onto the bed. 

Closing your eyes, you try not to think about Nathaniel. His yelling haunts you, the phantom grip of his fingers pulling your hair, the way your mouth filled with water- a hooting owl disturbs your spiraling thoughts. 

You open your eyes, straining your ears, only to find silence. Just as you begin to close your eyes again, you hear the hoot once more. Turning toward the window next to your bed, you sit up and pop the latch, casting open one of the shutters. 

Above the house, the moon is a glowing coin in the sky. Everything her light touches is awash in grey. Sticking your head out of the window, you sweep your gaze back and forth, trying to look for the sound of the hooting.

As though it senses your gaze, the owl hoots again. You see it this time. A great horned owl stares at you from its perch on top of a pile of chopped wood. Its eyes are burnished gold, like two burning beacons in the night. It’s a stunning owl, all browns and whites, feathers luminous under the sheen of the moon. It moves its head in a circle, opening and closing its beak.

Then, the owl surprises you. You flinch and sit backward on your haunches as it takes flight, great wings flapping as it flies to your window and lands on the ledge. You gasp in delight. The creature is far bigger up close, its ochre eyes warm and intelligent. 

The back of your neck tingles familiarly and you smile. 

“Are you supposed to watch over me?” The owl chirps, a much higher-pitched noise than the hoot. “Hmm. I see. Do you have a name?”

The owl bobs its head from side to side in an uncanny movement. Though you’re not sure, you think it means to tell you no. “Well, what if I give you one?” The owl chirps again. “What about… Moony?” 

Fluffing its feathers, the owl shifts back and forth and lets out a hiss. You giggle, covering your mouth as the bird settles, looking at you in a way that certainly feels haughty and bothered. “Alright. What about… Dream?” Another hiss and a bob no. “Okay, well you’re making this quite difficult. What about…”

A dozen names run through your mind. You think of the owl as Yoongi’s way to watch over you at night. It makes you feel warm and far less alone than you were before. It’s nice knowing that you have a protector, someone to warn Yoongi if you’re ever in danger. Or to steer you away from your bad thoughts.

“How about Guardian?” you offer. It blinks two large eyes before chirping and bobbing its head in a circle, pleased at the name. You grin and slowly reach your hand forward. “I like it. Guardian, then.” 

Gently, the owl leans forward and lets you brush its feathers. They are silky under your touch, each plume delicate and wonderful. You can’t help but smile, stroking the owl's chest until it shuffles back and forth and gives a short hoot.

“Go on,” you urge. “Do whatever you need to do. I’ll leave the window open?”

Guardian hoots in affirmation before shuffling its wings and flying off into the night. 

Laying in your back, you stare up through the open window, watching the stars go past. Slowly, you feel sleep pull at your edges, beckoning you to give in. You finally do, drifting asleep under the silver light of the moon and a blanket of stars. 

-

Yoongi sits in front of the fireplace in the library. You blink a few times, a little dazed. You don’t remember how you got here, but you know the smell of this library and you know that shadowy frame better than anything. It suddenly makes you ache to realize how much you miss it already. 

As if sensing your presence, Yoongi turns to look at you. He smirks, showing no sign of surprise at seeing you standing behind him. He gestures to the armchair next to him and you grin, quick to join him. 

Warmth leaps from the fireplace, the logs popping and crackling under the hungry, orange flames. Yoongi is dressed in a simple linen shirt and pants, his necklaces reflecting the burning light. He watches you sit down and fold your feet onto the chair. 

“Am I here? Or am I dreaming?” you ask. 

“Are both not possible?”

You think about it. “Well yes, I suppose they are. I’m dreaming but I can come here because I’m dreaming.”

“Clever girl.” Yoongi’s eyes dance as he looks you up and down. “How was your first day back?”

“Strange. I…” You chew on your lip, wrapping your arms around your legs. Suddenly, you feel more at home than you did earlier that day in the place you were raised. You think about the woods out behind your house, the alien way you felt among trees that should be familiar. “It feels as though the world doesn’t hold as much magic anymore.”

“What do you mean?”

“Like here. It is so vibrant and beyond imagining that now that I’ve gone back… nothing compares.”

Yoongi hums. “I promise you that there is so much magic in your world. There is real magic in living that cannot be found among the imaginary.” 

You rest your chin on your knees and sigh heavily. “If only I could find it.” 

“You will.” 

Silence passes between you. It’s comfortable. You watch the dancing fire, the world fading away. Though you are acutely aware that Yoongi is staring at your side profile, you don’t squirm or feel anxiety. You simply feel peace, happy to be here. Happy to be with him.

That makes your stomach flutter. At least you’re not dreaming of him in ways you shouldn’t tonight. As soon as you think about it, you feel your cheeks heat up hotter than the flames from the fireplace. 

After a little while Yoongi sighs, drawing your attention back to him. “You should sleep.” 

“I thought I was.”

“Sort of. You’re more… dreamwalking right now. You’re not really resting.” 

“Do I have to stay here?” The question is small. You don’t meet his eyes when you ask, suddenly filled with shame that you can’t even last a day in the world you’ve known for over twenty years. “There’s nothing for me here.”

“There is. You just have to find it again.”

“I don’t know how.” 

Yoongi stands up. You look up at him and see that his expression is soft. Kind. Your heart speeds up, tongue heavy in your mouth as he slowly reaches out to you. His hand hesitates for a second, pauses in mid-air like he’s unsure, and then he touches your cheek lightly. “Trust me.” 

Before you can respond, Yoongi is walking away. The skin on your cheek tingles where his fingers were a moment before, a shiver racing up your spine. You lift your hands to touch your cheek where his fingers were moments ago. You can’t help but smile, fondness for him growing. Blooming. 

Leaning back in the chair, you close your eyes and settle into real sleep. 

-

Tap tap tap. 

You twitch your nose and roll your head to the side, sniffing. For a moment, it felt like something had been tapping your nose, almost waking you from sleep. You start to sink back into it, pulling your covers tighter as your thoughts drift… further…

Tap tap tap. 

You frown. Now you’re awake, your thoughts clawing their way to break the surface of sleep. When you finally collect yourself and register that you’re waking up, you open your eyes to reveal a face hovering inches from yours, so close that you cannot make out the features. 

A shriek rips through your room as you scramble away from the face, clutching your blanket. You slam into the wall near the window, heart hammering as you press yourself flat, trying to make yourself small. 

Taehyung falls backwards on his ass, covering his ears and giving you a ghastly expression, as though horrified to be screamed at in such a manner. Your hand clutches your chest as you realize it’s him sitting on your floor and him who had been inches from your face - tapping your nose. 

“What are you doing?” you holler at him, fisting your blankets. You suddenly feel sick, the adrenaline making your stomach turn and your head spin. Groaning, you lay on your side, squeezing your eyes shut. Colors coalesce behind your eyelids as you take deep breaths, hoping it will pass. “Are you insane?”

“Well, that is up for debate.” 

You open your eyes and glare at him. 

Taehyung sits with his long legs out in front of him, leaning back on his palms. His dark hair hangs in his eyes as he grins at you, giddy. He’s dressed in a flowing white shirt with laces at the front that he’s kept open, revealing a tanned chest. His shirt is tucked into brown trousers and you spot a small chain with a charm tied through one of his belt loops.

You think you recognize the charm from one of Yoongi’s necklaces. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Visiting, obviously.”

“You can just… visit?” 

“I do what I want.” 

As the adrenaline rush fades, you slowly sit up, glaring at the man on your floor. “I doubt that. How did you get in here, anyway?” 

“Your window is open.” 

The window in question is still wide open from last night, only now, morning light streams through. The air is cool and smells of rain, the wind rushing through the trees and making them bend and dance under its guidance. A robin flits from bough to bough, singing. 

“So you came through the window?” 

“No, I came through the front door. No one else is home.” 

“Then why did you say you came through the window?”

“I didn’t. I said the window was open.” Taehyung gives you a white, square grin. You clench your teeth and resist the urge to throw a pillow at him. Though you’re pleased to see him, you’re equally as vexed by his teasing. “Anyway, I want you to show me around.”

“Show you around what?” 

He gets up from the floor, clapping his hands together to get rid of the dirt and dust before doing the same to his pants. He shrugs, giving you a cheery smile. “I don’t know. Anything. Everything. I want to see what your life here was like.” 

“It wasn’t very good.”

“That’s okay. I want to see it anyway.” 

Slowly, you get out of bed. He makes room for you, walking over toward the desk where your writing practice sheets are. He flips through them, examining your work as you eye him, stretching. Your joints pop and you groan, eyes fluttering at the release of tension. 

“Why?” you ask. He looks up at you, brows raised in a question. “Why do you want to see?”

Taehyung contemplates his answer. He taps one long finger on top of your tracing. “You’re getting better.” He leans against the desk and crosses his arms, regarding you steadily. “I’ll make you a deal. Show me about your life here. Teach me about you. And I’ll tell you about me.” 

That sparks your interest. You know so little about Taehyung, even in the two weeks that you’ve lived in the House of Dreams. He is a charming mystery, someone who speaks in riddles and likes to goad you and talk about so much that you realize he talks about nothing at all. At least, not anything substantial. 

For the amount of things you know about Taehyung, like how he enjoys cinnamon in his tea or that his favorite color is green like the bottom of the lake, or how his favorite snacks are honey cakes or that music makes him cry, you also know… nothing about him. Where he comes from. Who he was before he was Yoongi’s companion in a big, lonely castle. 

Sighing, you walk up to him and extend your arm. “Deal.”

Taehyung’s hand is warm and tingles when you shake it. He grins at you, happier than ever before he drops your hand and gestures at your clothes. “Well go on,” he says. “Change out of your nighties. Unless of course, you’d like to stay in them.”

“Get out of my room and I will!”

He raises his brows. “Don’t want me to watch? How boring.” 

You don’t take his teasing to heart. You’ve already adapted to Taehyung’s jesting and prodding, learning that it’s a key part to the way that he shows his affections. For the first few days, you’d thought perhaps he didn’t like you much, but after seeing him rib Yoongi for two hours straight in the library, you realized it was good that he was teasing you.

You open the small trunk of clothes and slide on pants and a loose shirt. When you enter the main house, you find Taehyung standing on the porch with his arms crossed over his chest, looking into the woods with a frown. Tucking in your shirt, you step out onto the porch, the wood creaking underneath your weight. 

“What is it?” you ask when Taehyung doesn’t turn to greet you. His eyes are dark and there’s an expression on his face that makes you nervous. “Is there something out there?”

Instead of answering directly, he asks, “Is that where Yoongi found you?” 

Oh. Oh. Taehyung is looking at the woods where you ran off the night that your parents tried to make you marry Nathaniel. You nod and hum, trying not to think much about it as you finish tucking in the shirt and adjusting the material. 

“There’s a bad energy there,” Taehyung observes. He turns away from the woods finally and drops his hands at his side. “You should stay away from that place moving forward.”

“I didn’t exactly go in there on purpose.”

“I know.” Something flashes in his eyes. “Best not to do it again, if you can help it. You can go into the woods, just not there.” 

“Okay…” 

You wait for Taehyung to elaborate, but he doesn’t. A chill settles over your skin, the wind picking up to rustle the trees. He shrugs and grins, the dark expression gone in a flash as he gestures for you to enter back through the house and leave by way of the front door. 

Taheyung follows you, a bounce to his step as he hurries to walk next to you. You say nothing as you lead him out of the yard and toward the main road by your home that leads into town, your stomach fluttering with nervousness as you go. 

If Taehyung is confused as to why you’re not starting the story of your life at home, he doesn’t let on. He tucks his hands into his pockets and walks next to you, his feet crunching the gravel beneath his boots and the wind lifting his hair.

Studying Taehyung’s side profile, you think he looks like something from a dream. He has the kind of beauty that seems purposeful and handcrafted, each one of his features carefully designed to be the wonderful, glowing being that he is. 

You don’t know what he is, really. But you’ve made a deal and you have to deliver on your end first. 

“We live a bit away from town,” you say eventually. “My father inherited the house after his father, who was a very talented wood carver. He used to cut the trees here himself and decide which tree was perfect for what project, which is why we live almost thirty minutes from town.” 

“A wood carver is a nice talent to have.”

You nod. “He was very good. It made a good income. My father had no talent for it, though, and opened up a store instead. He sold my grandfather’s wares and then eventually added items from other folks in town, including my mother's clothes. She’s a seamstress.” 

“You were wearing a dress the night Yoongi brought you home.”

Home. Taehyung says it so easily, like he’s already accepted that the House of Dreams is yours as much as it’s his. A warm feeling blooms through you, and you look up at Taehyung and smile at him despite the looming subject of the doomed wedding dress. He returns your smile just as broadly, even if he doesn’t know the reason for your sudden turn of happiness. 

“Yeah. That was one she made,” you sigh, turning back to the road. “A wedding dress.” 

“It was beautiful, but I did burn it in the fire.” You look at him with your brows raised and he gives you a sheepish shrug. “You were assaulted in that dress. We wanted nothing to do with it.”

“I’m glad that you did. I never want to remember that night again.”

“Good. Memories have a way of haunting us, even when we don’t know it.” 

Taehyung’s tone is ominous. Instead of asking him what he means, you let his weighted silence fall around you, propelling the both of you toward the town. 

As you get closer, houses and other roads begin to pop up. You see the pathways leading up to the homes of your neighbors, pointing out each one to Taehyung along with filling him in on summaries of their family histories and gossip. He listens with a conspiratorial smirk, gasping and asking you scandalous questions as you whisper rumors you’ve long heard from eavesdropping on your parents. 

Gossiping with Taehyung is nice. You feel lighter than you had the day before, nearly skipping as you near the town proper. You start passing people on the road. Normally, you’d greet the ones you know. Now, you hear gasps as people flinch when they see you, making signs with their hands to ward off evil. 

You blink in surprise, glancing at Taehyung for his reaction. He frowns when he sees the second group of people do it. By the third, he pulls a snarling face at them, making a child cry. You jam your finger in his ribs and he hisses in pain, shoving lightly back.

“What?” he demands. “You’re not evil. That sign doesn’t do anything, either. If one of the more malevolent deities wanted to snatch them, they would.”

“Really?”

Taehyung rubs his ribs where you poked him. You pass the bakery owned by the Yen family, heavenly smells wafting out the door. “Of course they would,” he huffs. “Most deities aren’t bound by the rules and logic the mortals try to make to create a sense of safety from them. Many can simply do what they want.”

“Then why don’t they?”

“Because of Eternals, like Yoongi. The gods who are always here, never changing. That’s why they’re called Eternals.” 

“I see. There’s seven of them, right?” Taehyung hums the affirmative. As you pass a music shop, Taehyung slows. His hands are linked behind his back as he eyes the instruments through the window and gestures at them. You nod and follow him indoors, the bell on the door above chiming. “So other deities are afraid of them?”

“Of course they are,” Taehyung muses. He stops to admire a mandolin. “Yoongi, for example, is a being that creates dreams themselves. He manipulates reality. He can create things on a whim. He’s almost as powerful as life.”

“Really?”

“What are dreams if not creation? The difference isn’t all that big, though it drives Seokjin mad to admit it.”

“Who?”

Taehyung plucks the string of another instrument. You don’t know what it is, but the note is sharp, making you cringe. “Life, of course.”

“You know Life? What are you?”

He glances at you sidelong. “We’re supposed to learn about you first. I’m doing a lot of talking.”

“Not like it’s hard to get you going,” you mutter. 

Taeyung shoots you a scowl, but is interrupted by the shop owner coming around the corner. He’s a man in his late thirties, greeting Taehyung politely and wiping his hands on his trousers. He asks Taehyung if he’s looking for anything and just as Taehyung leans out of the way to reveal you standing behind him, the shop owner’s eyes go to you and he gasps, stumbling backward. 

“You’re supposed to be dead,” he whispers, his back bumping into a shelf of items. You feel a shiver slip down your spine as you stare at him, arms tingling. He makes the symbol to ward off evil, the whites of his eyes wild. “Evil. Evil creature, you are a demon. You do not-”

“Another word,” Taehyung cuts in, his voice dark in a tone you’ve never heard. “And I’ll show you what evil is, sir.” 

“G-god of Light spare me.”

“Your God of Light won’t answer.” Taehyung spins on his heel, facing you. His expression is thunder, his gaze dark and eyes wild as he hisses, “Speak their name all you wish. It's not daytime in here, sir.” 

For the two weeks you’ve known Taehyung, you’ve never seen him like this. The room feels oppressive and dark, and you swear the lights have dimmed, shadows pressing up against the wall as Taehyung strides forward and passes you, taking your arm firmly in his hand.

Taehyung escorts you out of the store, walking swiftly. When you hit daylight, the oppressive dark sheds itself immediately. Taehyung’s presence dims with the sun beating down on him and turning his skin copper, black hair shining almost blue in the light.

He lets go of your arm and shoots you a troubled gaze. “Don’t listen to him,” he grunts. “You’re not a demon, nor are you evil.”

“My parents called me the same thing.” He scowls and begins pacing. To keep him moving, you start walking toward the other side of town where the old cemetery and abandoned church is. You don’t know why you go there, but you’re drawn to it. “They called me a demon.” 

“Demons are much nastier. You might be annoying, but certainly not a demon.”

You scowl and he shrugs. “I didn’t realize everyone here thought I died. I thought I would come back and it would be…”

“Normal?” You shrug a shoulder. 

The houses on the edge of town are shabbier than the rest. People hesitate in their doorways, staring at you and the tall, handsome man next to you. You see them do the warding sign as you go, and you squeeze your hands into fists as they do. 

Weeds crawl up the side of the old church. The structure leans heavily to the left, the stairs unusable and the ceiling fallen in. Instead of walking up the hazardous steps and inside the dilapidated building, you lead Taehyung around it, where the grass grows higher than your knees and the sound of grasshoppers buzzing by you follows. 

A dry-rotted fence surrounds what was once a graveyard. You walk toward it, leading Taehyung until he starts slowing down a few paces behind you. You stop and turn over your shoulder to look at him, bringing your hand up to shield your eyes from the sun. 

Taehyung looks thoughtful, dark eyes scanning the area. He’s stopped walking entirely, head cocked to the side. “Why’d you bring me here?” 

“I don’t know. I just… walked in this direction. I used to come here for the silence, sometimes.”

Taehyung has a strange look on his face. “Is that so?” 

“Why do you look like that?” 

“How long has this place been here?” 

“The church closed before I could remember. Honestly, they said it was haunted by this graveyard, which has been here a lot longer than the church. Even the oldest families in town don’t have their dead buried here. Rumor has it that it was built long before the town was.” 

Taehyung starts walking normally again. Side by side, you begin to navigate around the graveyard. “And you come here? Why?” 

“It’s quiet. When I was too young to stay at the house alone, my mom would bring me to town while she ran errands. I was allowed to explore, but I liked to come here.”

“Most kids are afraid of places of the dead.” 

You shrug. “It was quiet, and it gave me time to imagine things. I liked to make up fantasies about the old gods here or… what I imagined they might be. Of heroes descended from them, maybe.” 

“And you felt drawn here?” 

You startle when a grasshopper shoots across the grass in front of you. You laugh as it vanishes into the foliage. “Yeah, it just felt… safe.” 

“Strange.” 

“Am I allowed to ask why or are you going to complain you’re talking too much again?”  He snorts and gestures for you to continue. “Why is that strange? Beyond the fact that it’s, you know, a graveyard.” 

Sighing, Taehyung squints up at the line of trees nearby. His hand hovers along the tops of the grass as he runs it over each blade, letting the tips tickle his hands. You’re almost waist high in grass, glancing down to make sure you don’t step into any holes. 

“This place is old. The people of the church felt haunted because they were. Death owns this land.” 

You frown. “Well, the dead are here. The other graveyard doesn’t feel the same.”

“You misunderstand me. Death - the Eternal. His presence is all over. Someone important to him must be buried here.” 

“Oh.” 

You stop and think about that. Turning to look at the unmarked and lime washed tombstones, you scan for any sign of Death. You have no idea what you’re looking for. Ivy and time have taken over most of the concrete slabs, and none of the names or dates are legible by now. They’re just hewn stone, buried in green and grime. 

But you feel something here, a tingling on the back of your neck like the one you felt in the woods by your house. A chill wind blows over the land, sweeping the grass and rattling the trees. You feel the breeze against your neck, cool as fingers trailing down your spine. 

Suddenly, you feel a buzz on your skin. It’s not so different from Yoongi’s presence, and it chills you. 

You look up at Taehyung with wide, fearful eyes. He smiles and shakes his head. “You don’t need to be afraid of Death. Death is neither good nor bad, he just is. He only takes those who are ready.” 

“Have you met - um - Death?” 

Taehyung nods. “He is a man of few words, but Namjoon is unwaveringly kind and wise.”

“Strange that I was drawn to coming here.” You head back toward the town. The sun passes its zenith and makes its way into the early afternoon. “Is this whole place filled with Eternals or what?”

“No, it’s actually a rather unremarkable location. Namjoon lingers in many places. Yoongi was simply drawn here.” 

“By what?” 

Instead of answering the question, Taehyung sticks his hands in his pockets. “Show me more of your town.” 

So you do. Taehyung is a good companion. Where Yoongi would quietly observe and make sounds to indicate that he’s listening and admires the things you’re talking about, Taehyung asks questions. You realize he’s a tactile person as well. He touches things as he walks by them, brushing his fingers on fabric, touching jewelry at vendor stands.

Everywhere you go is a similar reaction to the instrument store. People seem happy to see Taehyung at first before they see you, fear making them lean away and ward you off. You realize you don’t know how much time has passed since you vanished from the woods and returned. 

When you ask Taehyung, he shrugs and explains that time moves differently and inconsistently. It could have been a day, it could have been a week, it could have been five months. By the looks on the faces of those you pass, you think perhaps it’s been a little longer than you anticipated.

Part of you wonders what lie your parents must have told them about your death. You almost want to ask, but you don’t, anxiety stilling your tongue. You probably wouldn’t be able to get close enough to anyone to ask anyway. 

By the time the sun has sunk beyond the horizon and the moon has begun its climb, you and Taehyung stop at the tavern to eat. Your stomach rumbles as you step into the warmth of the room behind Taehyung, and you notice that the place goes quiet.

It’s subtle at first, something you don’t notice as you kick dirt off your shoes, but the hush becomes so intense that you can’t help but look up, gaze sweeping the room as everyone turns to stare at you. 

Behind the counter, the barkeep straightens. His name is Sloan - you’ve known him since you were a little girl - and he looks less than happy at your arrival.

“I know I’m pretty,” Taehyung announces loudly, tossing the hair out his eyes. “But you don’t need to stare.”

“You aren’t welcome here,” Sloan says, voice wavering like he’s unsure if he means it. “Begone, demon. We are men and women of life and light!”

You swallow thickly and look around, feeling prickly heat crawl up your neck. 

Like at the music shop, something happens to Taehyung, except this time, it’s stronger than before. The candles in the chandelier and on the tables flicker in a phantom wind and darkness pulses in the room. You feel energy rolling off of him and you swear Taehyung gets darker as he steps forward, his presence oppressive and threatening. 

There is crying and gasping in the room as he seethes. “We are not demons, and you will not disallow this woman to enter your shops, your homes, or anywhere else she wishes.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper, throat dry. 

He doesn’t seem to hear you. You swear there is thunder in the distance. Whatever power belonging to Taehyung is tenfold now that the night sky stretches over the tavern. “Refuse her service, and there will be consequences.”

“Taehyung,” you hiss, snatching his sleeve. You pull his attention to you. His eyes are like two obsidian coins. There is something sharp and lupine about his face, sending your heart hammering. “Stop. This is making it worse.” 

“They should not insult you.”

“It’s fine.”

He softens a touch. “It isn’t. You are not… they do not understand you.”

“They never have. Come on, let’s just go.”

For a second, you think he might not. You don’t know what Taehyung is or what he can do. It doesn’t frighten you, though. Because whatever Taehyung is and whatever his intentions are, he’s linked to Yoongi. Yoongi would never put you in harm's way or let Taehyung near you if he was a threat.

Even after such a short period of time, you know this in your heart of hearts.

Taehyung relents and the light returns to the room. No one makes a sound, all eyes on Taehyung as he lets you pull him out of the door and into the night. You immediately feel better outside, the moon washing your skin in light and the stars watching you march into the street. 

“You can’t just threaten everyone who insults me,” you snap, though you’re not really mad at him. “They’re only going to hate me more. And they will think you’re a demon when you do that.”

“I’m far more powerful than a demon,” he sniffs primly. “And they should not insult you. You have the favor of Dream. You are -” he cuts himself off and shakes his head. “Well, you’re far above their station. They know nothing.”

“Far above their station,” you snort, crushing a rock under the toe of your boot. “I’m a girl who was strange when they knew me before they thought I was dead, and now they think I’m a demon walking around with her scary demon husband. Or perhaps they think you are an evil entity.” 

“Don’t make that joke around Yoongi,” Taehyung mutters, putting his hands on his hips. Before you can ask what that means, he says, “What if I took you somewhere instead, then?”

You raise your brows and look around. “Where?”

“Well not here. Somewhere familiar to me, where they won’t ostracize you.”

“We’re going to travel in the middle of the night.”

Taehyung gives you a square grin that lights up the world. “Time to learn about how we travel.”

-

You almost vomit on Taehyung’s shoes. He squeals and steps out of the way as you bend over, holding your middle as bile burns its way up your throat and splatters onto the gravel beneath you. It feels like your world is spinning and you’ve lost your center of gravity, having been pulled by something sharp in your stomach into a vortex of what felt like twisting and spinning.

It could only have lasted a second, but Taehyung has to hold you up for a moment as you gasp for air, the taste in your mouth sour and gross. You crane your face to look at him, glaring as he winces. He had given you no warning of what his travel was like or how it would feel.

You’re not looking forward to it again.

“What,” you pant, “was that?”

“Teleportation, mostly. I kind of forgot what it feels like when you’re… human. You get a little scrambled.”

The nausea makes your throat clench and unclench again. You dig your fingers into his arm as you dry heave but nothing comes up. “A little?” you rasp. The world slows its spinning and the watering feeling in your mouth that preludes puking fades. “That was awful.”

“Sorry, it’s different than portaling. That’s more stepping through the door while teleportation is like... Jumping.”

“Don’t jump me again any time soon.”

Taehyung pats your back heartily as you stand up straight. The stars swim above you in a spiraling cosmos. You close your eyes and take a few deep breaths, waiting as the nausea fades away and the world around you bleeds into the forefront of your attention span. 

Noise hums from in front of you. You’re standing in an alleyway, looking up at the side of a building. It looks a bit like an inn, but you can hear the clamor of a crowd and loud voices coming from inside. Each window is curtained, keeping wandering eyes and the moonlight outside. 

Taehyung leads you around to the front of the building. It’s two stories and on the first floor there’s a porch filled with chairs and gambling tables. There are men and women draped over the furniture, smoking sweet-smelling cigars and laughing loudly as they throw dice on the table. 

Women and men in various states of undress sit on the laps of the others. You feel heat crawl up your neck as you avert your eyes, looking up at the sign hanging over the building that says Desert Rose. Nervousness tingles at the back of your neck as Taehyung strolls up the steps to what you’re sure is a brothel and a gambling den, greeting people as he goes.

You’re shocked that Taehyung knows people here. You’re sure that you’re still in… your dimension, as Yoongi calls it. The people here talk with an accent that is different from what you’re used to, but you still understand the language, even while struggling to keep up with the lilt.

Eyes follow you as Taehyung leads you inside. The air is thick with perfume, smoke, and loud voices. Tables are pressed closely together, filled with people. There’s a bar at the back of the room and a small bard and band in a corner, singing a raucous song with the crowd about Lady Trown who gets around and will go down. 

“Where did you bring me?” you ask Taehyung as he guides you through the rowdy room. A woman falls over a card game laughing, her breasts spilling out of her shirt while another woman plants a kiss right on her mouth. “This place is - is -”

There are no words for it. You’ve never been somewhere that is so openly indecent and carnal in your life and yet… the colors and the sounds and the overflowing joy hit you like an arrow to the chest. You can’t help but be drawn to look at the exposed bodies before darting your gaze away, only to be drawn somewhere else out of insatiable curiosity. 

“A haven!” Taehyung offers as he leans on the bar. “Two pints of whatever!” 

You press close against him, hands shooting to his shirt as someone pushes by you. It’s a little overwhelming and you feel hot all over. Taehyung shoves a wooden tankard of amber liquid into your hands and grins, raising another to his lips before taking several swigs, liquid running down his chin and neck. 

He comes away and smacks his lips, giving you a delighted grin. “It’s awful, just the way I like it!”

You take a sip and make a face. The watered-down ale is certainly nothing like the sweet wine Yoongi likes to treat you to over dinner. Taehyung seems to know this, laughing loudly as he leads you through the crowd toward an empty table in the corner. 

Back against the wall, you take a moment to look around the room. There are card and dice games being held at multiple tables, alongside other games with rune-marked stones, cups and trinkets that you don’t recognize.

It’s wildly different from anything back home. You’ve never been to a brothel - at least, you think this place qualifies for one, based on the various states of undress and a few couples doing something that makes you avert your eyes - but this is nice. In its own loud and carnal way.

Taehyung people-watches with you. He feeds you information on the faces that he recognizes, lips curling as he gossips. He looks alive and happy, his golden skin glowing with a radiance that seems a little magical. 

“So is it my turn to ask questions?” you ask, sipping the awful beer as you look over at Taehyung. His gaze reluctantly strays away from watching a card game where you’re pretty sure the woman who is winning is cheating. “Or do I still have to talk about myself?” 

He smirks. “You can ask questions, a deal is a deal.”

“What is this place?” 

“The Desert Rose.” 

You glare. “What is this place to you?” 

Taehyung takes a sip of his ale and grins, winking at you. “A better question. This place is somewhere I used to visit when I wanted to feel alive. When I wanted to feel humanity for its raw intensity.”

“So you’re not human.” He shakes his head. His face grows a little hesitant, but he doesn’t tell you to stop. “What are you?” 

“I’m a dream.” 

You blink once. Twice. You expect Taehyung to start laughing and indicate that he was teasing you, but he doesn’t. He leans back in his chair, watching you evenly with his dark eyes. 

“What?” you finally ask.

“I’m a dream. The second ever, actually.”

You think about what you’ve observed of Taehyung. The way that he seems to draw people in, the animated manner in which he speaks. He seems to contain so many multitudes of the things you know that Yoongi enjoys, and yet so many things that press Yoongi’s buttons and rattle him. 

Taehyung is… beautiful. Enchanting. Both to look at, and to talk to. He has a carefree personality and you know he’s magical, having witnessed it in the House of Dreams in snippets but also today, when he became angry and the darkness seemed to swell around him. Not to mention his awful teleportation to wherever you are in the world now.

He is exactly the kind of person you always imagined being the lead in your fantasies. Brave and charming, handsome and adventurous. He looks like he belongs here, melding to the energy around him, fitting in perfectly.

Suddenly, the thought of Taehyung being a dream makes more sense than anything else. A being of infinite possibilities, one who can shape themselves to anyone and anything, who can sense what people want and become that very thing.

You’re not sure what the complexities of dreams are, but you understand the very basics from Yoongi: most dreams are flexible and full of infinite possibilities. It’s what makes them so real, so strong. 

“That makes a lot of sense,” you murmur. “So you’re old.”

“Very.”

“If you’re the second dream…” you trail off, thinking about how Yoongi explained how he came to existence. How life dreamed and so he was born. “Yoongi is the first. That’s why you say he is Dream - he is the first and the essence of dreams.”

“Very clever.”

“When you said you came here to feel alive, what did you mean by that?”

He sighs heavily. “Yoongi was born because Life dreamed of - well, making life. And when Yoongi was born, he was the very concept of dreaming itself. Imagination, creation, wonder, hope. It’s why creation and dreaming are so close in their nature. But still, there is a difference between lifeforms and dreams.” 

“You wanted to know what it was like to feel life?”

He nods. “Yoongi made me as his first companion. He couldn’t help it, really. He didn’t make me on purpose so much as he thought of someone to spend time with, someone to offset him. To balance him. And then there I was.” 

You chew on your lip. There is a distant look in Taehyung’s gaze. He stares at his ale, not drinking anymore. He picks at splinters in the tankard handle, the noise around the two of you a dull roar. 

“But?” you offer, sensing his hesitance. 

“But,” he agrees, nodding. “When Life created humans, I wondered what the difference was between us. I sort of looked like them and I talked like them, but I wanted to know what it was like to be them. And dreams… They are wonderful. Beautiful. But I was afraid they weren’t real, so I started to visit here. To go places. To see if life was the same as dreams.” 

“Is it?”

He shakes his head. “It’s not better, it’s not worse. It’s just different. But I did learn that dreams are as real as life. Perhaps you cannot always see them and feel them depending on where you are, but anything someone dreams here is real there.” 

“That’s sort of comforting.” 

Taehyung smiles. “It is. Plus, I really enjoy people. They have an edge to them that dreams don’t.” 

Someone catches Taehyung’s attention. He turns in his seat, head craning as though he senses something. You follow his line of sight to where a young man descends the stairs leading up to the second floor. He is unlike anything you’ve ever seen, with dark, silky hair tucked behind his ears, full lips that pull into a smile as someone greets him, and sharp, dark eyes that crinkle when he laughs.

He’s beautiful. Suddenly you think that this might be what a dream truly looks like. Taehyung is all dark and shadows, but the man Taehyung watches is lightness and magic, his face so perfect that you cannot help but imagine it must be the result of someone carefully painting every feature. 

Your eyes flicker back to Taehyung when the man leans on the bar, talking to the barmaid behind the counter. Taehyung doesn’t move. You don’t even think he’s breathing. He sits in his chair, knuckles paling under the grip he has on the back of his seat, his eyes filled with such sudden longing that you have to look away. 

“Who is that?” you ask gently. Taehyung doesn’t seem to hear you. He watches and watches, wanting to look nowhere else but at the bar. “Taehyung?”

“His name is Jimin.” 

“That’s a pretty name.”

Taehyung nods. “He’s like you.”

“Like me?”

“He dreams loud enough for us to hear it. For me to hear it. I’ve been coming to this place long before he existed. A silly coincidence that he exists here, too.” 

“Fate, perhaps?” 

That makes Taehyung turn around. His expression is dark and he’s frowning. “Don’t start talking about Hoseok,” Taehyung mutters. “Lest he show up.”

You didn’t mean Yoongi’s sibling Fate, but you realize that’s who Taehyung is talking about. Your eyes drift back to where Jimin is at the bar, sipping a glass of amber liquid. As though he senses eyes on him, his gaze sweeps the bar until it lands on Taehyung, who straightens immediately. 

Jimin smiles and it’s like watching the first ray of sun break over the horizon. You can’t help but blink at his radiant beauty, completely taken aback by it as Jimin pushes off of the bar and begins heading your direction. 

Taehyung swivels in his chair, taking in a few calming breaths. You giggle and he looks up at you, giving you a pitiful smile. You reach across the table and squeeze his hand quickly. “Don’t be nervous.”

“I’m not nervous!”

“You definitely are.”

Before Taehyung can hiss a rebuttal at you, Jimin sidesteps a woman and grins at Taehyung. He drags his gaze to you and startles, as though he had not realized you were there, eyes going round and mouth forming an ‘o’. 

“Sorry, I didn’t realize you were with anyone,” Jimin says. His voice is soft and smooth, immediately comforting. “I wanted to come say hello.”

“Hi,” Taehyung breathes, blinking up at Jimin as though he is lost in starlight. Perhaps he is, you think. “Your hair is longer than the last time I saw you.”

Jimin flushes, a hand coming up to touch the ends of his hair gently. “Yeah, I thought I would grow it out.”

“It looks great.” 

For a moment, they stare at one another, Taehyung grinning with his eyes gleaming, and Jimin soft with his eyes scrunched. You look at the table, trying not to disrupt whatever spell they’re under as they peer at one another, but it seems Jimin senses your presence still. His eyes flicker to you and he raises a brow, questioning.

Taehyung fumbles to introduce you, turning and giving you a sheepish grin. You smile and stretch your hand over to shake Jimin’s. His hands are small and delicate but his grip is firm. “It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung wanted to show me this place because he enjoys the people so much - I believe that includes you.” 

Jimin smirks and shrugs a shoulder while Taehyung looks for a chair, yanking it away from someone to give Jimin a place to sit. He does, throwing Taehyung a grateful smile. “Hmm, is that so? Has he said nice things about me?”

“The nicest. In fact, the whole reason we came here is because he wanted to introduce me to the amazing Jimin.” 

Taehyung shoots you a look that tells you to shut up, but you hide your grin in your tankard as Jimin raises a brow, glancing at Taehyung. 

Watching Taehyung and Jimin is comedic and sweet. Taehyung isn’t an entirely different person around Jimin, but he becomes softer at the edges, his smiles gentler and his laughs louder. The longing in Taehyung’s gaze when he thinks Jimin isn’t looking is palpable, and even as a bystander and a friend, you feel a pang watching the two of them dance around one another. 

For his part, Jimin seems equally enthralled. He watches Taehyung with rapt attention, asking questions and touching Taehyung gently everywhere he can - the tops of Taehyung’s hands, his arm, his elbow. When Taehyung turns around to watch the table next to you topple over, you realize he’s unaware that Jimin is looking at him as though begging for Taehyung to see. 

You see. And you want. 

Never before had your parents inspired much desire for love in you. While they worked well together, you still can’t call what they had happy or loving. Functional, sure. Successful, even. But they did not look at one another the way Taehyung and Jimin seem to, and you can’t help but suddenly feel like that is something you want.

Someone to look at you when they think you’re not looking in a way that implies you are their sun and moon. Someone who smiles with such mirth at something you do or say that you can feel the heat of it. 

Jimin gets up to refill the drinks, scooping yours with a grin before vanishing in the crowd. Taehyung watches him go, craning his neck to ensure he has eyes on Jimin as he makes his way to the bar.

“Have you told him you’re in love with him?” 

Taehyung shakes his head, eyes never leaving where Jimin is leaning over the bar to order. “There’s no point.” 

“What? Why not?”

“I’m a dream. He’s a human. We could never be something.” 

“Oh. Surely there’s a way?” 

Taehyung turns to look at you, the joy on his face slipping to be replaced with a soft sadness. He shakes his head again, picking at the splinters on the table. “I would be no good for him. We live in two different worlds… I come and go… He deserves a normal, human life. We could never be something.”

Jimin starts to head back toward the table. Taehyung shakes off the melancholy and smiles just as bright when Jimin returns, as though he wasn’t sad only a moment ago. You accept the refilled drink from Jimin with a weak smile.

Taehyung’s words cycle through your mind as the two men fall into giggling conversation, and all you can think about is a pair of dark cat eyes, a soft raspy voice, and a man who is made of dreams.

We could never be something. 

-

“I was starting to worry, you know?” 

Yoongi’s voice makes you blink. You realize you’re standing among the wisteria, the breeze carrying their sweet scent over your warm skin. You turn to look at him over your shoulder. He’s leaning against a tree, his long hair down and dancing in the breeze. The thin white shirt he wears does little to hide the lines of his stomach and chest today, making you avert your eyes. 

“Why?” you ask, voice steadier than you feel. 

You walk toward a low-hanging vine, bringing your hands up to brush along the purple petals. You feel the tree shiver under your touch. You sense it, like it purrs, a response that is hard to explain but you innately know. 

“It took you longer than usual to fall asleep.”

“Can you not see me when I’m not asleep?”

“I could, but prying is rude. I only see you when you come to me.”

You turn to look at him sharply. He seems a little smug at that, the corners of his full lips twitching like he’s fighting a smirk. Your heart skips a beat for a moment before Taehyung’s words from that night play in your mind. We could never be something. 

And yet Yoongi is implying it’s you who visits him. 

You scowl and turn away from him suddenly. Yoongi makes a sound like a sigh and pushes off of the tree, his footsteps quiet as a whisper. “Have I upset you?” 

“I want to go to sleep.”

He hesitates. You cannot see his expression, but you can picture it perfectly: brows drawn together, mouth pouted slightly, head cocked.  His confusion is evident when he says, “You are asleep.”

“You know what I mean.” 

Silence, for a moment. Then, in that soft, rasping voice that you know so well, he murmurs, “Goodnight, then.” 

-

Silence greets you when you wake up the next morning. Your home is still empty - you have not seen either of your parents since you arrived the night before. Either you’re coming and going at hours they’re not around or they’re avoiding you. The latter is most likely, and you certainly don’t mind. 

Your day goes similarly to the day before. This time, when you walk through the woods, you feel a little more of a spark. You’re sure it has to do with your conversation with Taehyung, his words about dreams and reality being different but equally powerful pouring a little bit of magic back into the woods you loved so dearly.

Still, you miss the other realm and the House of Dreams, even if you’re a little embarrassed by your dream last night, recalling the way you dismissed Yoongi. 

Sitting on the ground with your back pressed against a cypress tree, you let out a heavy sigh and close your eyes, your arms hugging around your middle. You try not to think too hard about the way Yoongi looked leaning against the tree, dark eyes drinking you in. 

Yoongi occupies more than his fair share of thoughts. You hate it, the way your mind strays to him, thinking this is something Yoongi would like or Yoongi would find this funny. Only two weeks and he and Taehyung are suddenly all you know, your experiences with them painting most of your thoughts. 

Thoughts of Taehyung don’t plague you, though. 

The fluttering feeling every time you think of Yoongi has not faded with time or distance. It might be easier if he didn’t visit your dreams every night - or if you didn’t visit him in your dreams, which you don’t know how to do. 

But Taehyung’s forlorn words come drifting back to you, reminding you that there is some distinction between humans and dreams. That even for Taehyung, it cannot work. 

When you return home, your parents still aren’t there. You busy yourself with lunch and then begin practicing your letters, tracing them until your hand is cramping and your head is starting to hurt. You manage to take up most of the afternoon that way, focused solely on your studies and trying to read through your work.

Just as evening falls, Taehyung appears in the yard, hands on his hips as he looks up at your window, whistling to catch your attention. You grin when you see him, happy to have a friend, even if it’s just Taehyung. You don’t ask why Yoongi doesn’t come with him - the Eternal is busy, you’re sure - but you’re pleased to just have Taehyung. 

It becomes a routine. It’s not as thrilling as your life in the House of Dreams, but it isn’t as terrible as you thought it would be. The few times that you do see your parents, they glare at you as though you have become something evil in their house, lurking and stealing their joy. 

You say nothing to them and they stay away from you. 

It’s the same in town. You only visit with Taehyung, otherwise you are too afraid to go on your own. The villagers say nothing when they see the two of you walking around and visiting the old church, but they glare and you catch them doing the signs to ward off evil as you pass by. 

Still, Taehyung makes it worth it. He visits you nightly, whisking you away to the Desert Rose, which has become a refuge for you. You’re no better at teleporting, but you manage not to vomit on his shoes each time you do it. 

Tonight, the energy is thrumming at the Desert Rose. Your gaze lingers longer on those around you and you even introduce yourself to the people that Taehyung is familiar with. Though Taehyung opts to play a game of dice, you do not. You’re content to watch, standing over his shoulder with your arms crossed over your chest.

You feel… alive. Just like Taehyung described when he started coming here. It’s so different from your life before, and after over a week of being around people who seem to spill over with joy without restraint, you feel yourself loosening up. Becoming something a little different. Someone who wants. Someone who wants openly. 

You think about Yoongi. Once he’d told you that he wasn’t just Eternal of dreams. He also has power over desire, and he believes in indulgence. He wants to teach you to indulge more. It suddenly makes all the more sense that Taehyung likes it here. He’s someone who dives in head first to things, taking any bet someone throws his way and snatching drinks off of passing trays. 

Even his desire for Jimin is open and obvious, though you’re sure Taehyung doesn’t know that. 

It’s a lovely night. You feel warm all over, the drink getting to you as you guzzle down the remainder of your cider, which you favor far more than the ale. Jimin clambors onto the table, a cup in hand as he starts yelling the words to the song the band is playing in the corner. 

Taehyung begins to slam his wooden cup on the table in time with the beat, yelling the words and standing up as the room joins in, stamping their feet and slamming on tables. You don’t know the words but you laugh loudly, slamming your palms against the top of the table. They sting with the force of your slap, but it feels good. 

You feel good. Happy. Drunk. A little dizzy as the table wobbles and you dive out of the way as Jimin comes tumbling down. It doesn’t stop you from taking a shower of beer from Jimin’s cup, dousing you in warm liquid as you shriek and laugh. 

Taehyung catches Jimin, of course. They’re a tangled mess of limbs and wet with beer all the same, pointing at you and laughing as you blink through the drink dripping down your face. You flick beer at them with the liquid on your hands, making them howl. 

“Gross! Jimin!”

“I’m so sorry,” he gasps through the laughter, his arms slung tight around Taehyung’s neck as Jimin leans into him. “I slipped!”

“You owe me a new shirt!” 

Jimin nods, grinning so broadly his eyes are crescents as he stands properly and beckons you. “Come on, both of you. I’ll get you new shirts that aren’t soaked. 

Upstairs is a series of private rooms. The hall is lit with flickering sconces and the plush carpet mutes your footsteps. Jimin leads you and Taehyung, giggling, to a door. He thrusts it open and the three of you tip inside, stopping short at the scene in front of you.

Your hands fly to your mouth to mute your gasp, but Taehyung and Jimin collapse into another fit of laughter. If the two people in the bed are bothered by the interruption, they don’t show it. They are a tableau of pleasure, a woman laying back on the bed, arching upward as she lets out a moan. Her skin is slick with sweat, nipples hard as she teases them with one hand, another hand slipping between her legs to cradle the head of someone there.

The shock roots you to the spot. You can’t look away, completely hypnotized by the way the person between the woman’s legs moans, pressing their mouth further into her, the wet smack of their mouth loud over the woman’s trembling moans. 

You’ve never seen such a raw, carnal exchange. As Taehyung apologizes and grabs you and Jimin, pulling you back out into the hallway, you know you’ll never forget that momentary vision. Even as Jimin directs you to the right room to change your shirt in, you replay the scene over and over in your head, thinking of a different detail every single time: the pleasure on the woman’s face, the delicate bow of her back, the soft swells of her breasts, the wet sounds of the mouth between her legs. 

It haunts you. You swallow thickly when you’re done changing, skin still smelling like beer. Your mind wanders to Yoongi, wondering if this is what he was talking about when he spoke of desire. If he also meant physical desire, the indulgence of the erotic variety. 

The thought shames you so thoroughly you’re silent the rest of the night. You’re embarrassed by your immediate curiosity - angry that you even entertained the thought of being in that position with Yoongi, no matter how fleeting the idea was. 

Yoongi certainly did not mean he was going to teach you that - did he?

You shake the thoughts from your head and focus on reality. Of course he didn’t mean that. Taehyung was right when he spoke about the relationships between humans and dreams - it could never be something. 

-

Sweat trickles down your neck slowly. You feel every inch of it, your skin sensitive and over-warm. Your stomach clenches and your hands twist in your sheets as a hot mouth presses against your throat, teeth scraping, tongue licking. 

An inferno grows inside of you as the mouth sinks lower. You hear your heaving breaths, loud and ragged. Your heart beats in your ears, the staccato almost louder than the whimper that leaves your mouth when a wet, messy kiss is placed on your collarbone. 

It’s madness. It’s tortuous. It’s glorious, this feeling thrumming through you, making you twist your head to the side, muscles clenching and letting loose over and over again, your body completely at war with itself.

But it feels so good. 

One of your hands shoots to the silky, dark hair of the person kissing your chest. You card your fingers through soft strands, tugging a little. A deep, throaty moan escapes the lips pressed to your skin, breath hot and warm. 

Dark eyes meet yours, lips parted and swollen, Yoongi’s pupils blown and -

Panic explodes. You realize it’s Yoongi kissing you this way. Yoongi’s hands skimming up your sides, Yoongi’s mouth pressing searing kisses to your flesh, Yoongi’s moan that is falling from his lips, honey sweet. 

“We can’t,” you whisper, though dream-Yoongi just stares at you, eyes fathomless. “We could never be something.”

“Of course we can,” he murmurs, tilting his head to the side. “You are everything I’ve ever dreamed of.” 

The weight of his gaze is blazing. You feel your skin burn under the heat of it, you feel like it’s harder to breathe, you feel the sweat run down your spine, your arms, you feel like you’re overheating, it’s hot it’s too-

-

You wake up to something screeching. For a moment, daylight blinds you. You hold your hands in front of your face, shielding your eyes from the light. But the light is an inferno of heat against your hand, making you gasp and choke on thick air as you blink sleep away, trying to make sense of where you are. 

Fire. It isn’t daylight you’ve woken up to, it’s fire. 

Leaping up from bed, you throw your sheets off, scrambling to push yourself against the wall. The flames are already high, licking toward the ceiling and filling your room with thick, grey smoke as the fire eats at the old wood of your house. 

The screech comes again, the shutters on your window rattling. Heart pounding, you slide your hand along the wall, fingers trembling as you press them into the wood, trying to find the metal latch to open them. You cover the lower half of your face with your opposite arm, coughing into it. 

Your fingers slip on the latch, sweaty and shaking. You inch closer to the window, getting a solid grip on the metal and flipping it upward. The latch clacks and the windows swing open, a gust of wind entering the room. It makes matters worse, the oxygen fueling the fire into a rage as it climbs higher and jumps towards your bed. 

You look frantically around your room, realizing you can’t take anything. The writing desk in the corner is aflame, all of the sheets of paper and your hard-earned practice curling into smoke as they’re consumed, your letters from Yoongi turning to ash. 

“No!” you sob, realizing those things are lost forever.

Again, there’s a wild screech. You turn to look out the window to see a large, brown owl - Guardian, you realize - screeching, flapping its great wings, gold eyes fixated on the fire. It yells at you again, as though imploring you to move. 

You take a breath and dive out the window. For a moment as you fall toward the ground, you’re reminded that this is the second time you’re having to use it to escape danger. That thought sinks like a stone in your stomach, going down, down, down until it rests weighty in your gut.

The smack of the ground rattles you. Every part of you hurts, bones jolting as you roll until you’re flat on your back, gasping as the air leaves your lungs momentarily, knocked out of you. Scrambling up despite your limbs protesting in pain, you look up at the fire crawling over your house. 

That’s when you notice it - the noise and the yelling of voices. Inside your home, with the roaring and crackling of the fire, you couldn’t hear the crowd outside. Now, you see them in full. They carry torches and farm tools, some of them with axes and hoes, others with scythes. 

They don’t see you yet, giving you a long moment to stare open-mouthed as the pieces of the puzzle slide together. They’ve set your home on fire because of you - they’ve tried to kill you. Because they think you’re a demon and because they think you’re an evil creature. 

Heart in your throat, you scan the lines of the faces. Toward the edge, you see your parents. A group of women consoles your mother, holding her by the shoulders gently as she stares into the orange flame. Your father stands a few feet away, almost by himself, watching and watching and watching. 

They knew you were asleep. And your window had not been closed before bed - you’d been leaving it open at night so Guardian could come and go as he pleased. 

You sit there on the ground, staring in shock, for too long. Someone notices you and points, screaming something that you cannot hear over the blood rushing in your ears. Panic seizes you and you scramble to your feet, sliding a few times as the crowd runs at you.

There’s no time to see what your parents do. The image of them watching their home burn with the thought of you inside is fresh in your memory, a razor-sharp cut that flays you open as you turn and run. Run toward the woods where Nathaniel chased you on that fateful night. 

Run to the woods you almost died in. Run to the woods where Yoongi swooped in and made a promise to protect you. 

Darkness descends. You think for a moment as you enter the woods that you won’t get lucky a second time, that your luck has run out. It’s the panic that scrambles your thoughts, and the memories of Nathaniel chasing you through these woods make you stumble and fall. 

You don’t make it far. You trip over a tree root and tumble into strong arms. The smell of clove and cinnamon is overpowering as you look up at Yoongi, who pulls you into his chest. You let him, sliding your arms around his middle and pressing your face into his neck as you squeeze your eyes shut.

“I’ve got you, little lamb.” His voice is dark as the shadows that wrap around you, cool and soothing to the touch. “They cannot hurt you.” 

As Yoongi whisks you away like that fateful night, you hear the echoing voice scream behind you. Devil! Demon King! The Dark God!

-

“It’s my fault,” Yoongi murmurs, cradling your face to inspect it for the tenth time. He’s crouching in front of you, dark eyes wild as he inspects your face for any damage. You pull your jaw from his grasp - even if his touch tingles pleasantly - and look in the other direction. “I should have known.”

“Yes,” Taehyung snaps behind Yoongi, arms crossed and presence thundering. “You should have.” 

There is no fire going in the library tonight. You have a feeling Yoongi has extinguished it for obvious reasons, but you say nothing. You look over Yoongi’s dark head to where Taehyung is raging, his face pinched with anger. You give him a look and he tosses his hands in the air. 

“What?” he demands. “It’s true.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m not going to lie to him. He should have known sending you back was an idiotic idea. Thinking anyone would have accepted you was an oversight.”

Yoongi grits his teeth and stands. You watch as he visibly tries to control his frustration, taking a step back from you. Tonight, he’s dressed in all black. His cloak is still on and his necklaces pool at his throat, the silver cold in the dark of the library. His hair is pulled back out of his face and you think he looks like the real Eternal, tonight. 

He turns to Taehyung. “You know why I sent her back.”

“Yes, your fucked up sense of morality and-”

“Don’t talk about me like I’m not sitting right here,” you snap. You ball your fists in your lap. You’re still dressed in night clothes and the scent of ash and sweat is heavy on your skin. You stare at your hands. “I want to go to bed.” 

“Alright.” Yoongi’s extended hand appears in front of you. You drag your eyes up to meet his. Gone is the anger and severity, replaced only with a soft, almost fond expression. “I’ll walk you.”

Putting your hand in Yoongi's, you let him pull you out of the chair. 

You could be mad at him if you tried. Perhaps it would be easy to blame Yoongi for sending you back to keep some semblance of normalcy in your life. Maybe you would feel lighter if you got angry with him for promising to protect you, but only being able to physically do so, unable to shield you from the hatred of your community. 

If you tried, perhaps you could blame him for not letting you drown in the first place. For bringing you here with the fantasy that you could exist with one foot in each world. 

You’re not mad at him, though. Unlike Taehyung, you don’t need to wonder why Yoongi wanted you to spend two weeks in the real world. The real world is yours. It’s where you belong. To want some sort of normalcy for you or hope that you’d be able to pick up your life there anew was perhaps shortsighted, but rooted in the desire to do good for you.

So you’re not angry with Yoongi, though you’re not sure you’re pleased either. 

The walk to your room is silent. Yoongi has let go of your hand but he walks close enough that your arms brush, sending shivers down your spine. You don’t know what to say, so you say nothing, and he seems content to let you keep your thoughts to yourself. 

This isn’t how you wanted to see him for the first time since your two weeks spent in your realm.

The inside of your room is warm, but there’s no fire. You almost ask if he’s doused every flame in the house, and protest that you’re not afraid, but you don’t. He follows you into your room and shuts the door behind him. You walk toward the chaise and sit on it, looking up at where he hovers by the door. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, eyes finding yours. The emotions there are deep, but unreadable. “It was foolish of me to think they’d accept you as you were. Foolish to think that maybe the relationship with your parents might mend.” 

“You couldn’t have known.”

“I am thousands of years old. Humankind has not changed so much in their ability to fear the unknown and react violently. I do know better, but I…”  You wait for him to explain further, but he doesn’t. Yoongi lets the sentence drift off into the night. Instead of finishing it, he ventures, “Are you sure you’re unharmed?” 

“Yeah, Guardian was screeching at the window.” 

“Guardian?”

“Yeah, the owl. I assumed you sent it to watch over me.” 

Yoongi frowns. “No, that’s what Taehyung was for. I did not…”

“What?” You see the look on his face change, shifting from confused to steel calm. “What is it?” 

“Hoseok,” Yoongi mutters, turning to exit your room. “Try to get some sleep. I have a meddling owl to deal with.” 

As he moves to close the door, you lean forward. “Yoongi?” He looks up, eyes wide, expression soft. He looks like a dark star, just then. The light from the window makes him glow from within, his eyes endless pools, his power ebbing in the room, a constant energy. “Thank you.”

His mouth turns downward. “For what?”

“Saving me. Again.”

His eyes darken. “Your safety will always be paramount to me. I’ll do better.” 

“I think you’re doing the best you are able.” 

“Thank you for saying so.”

Silence hangs between the two of you. It’s heavy, filled with friction that wasn’t there before. You squirm where you sit, suddenly unable to meet the set of eyes pinned to you. You’d  forgotten what his gaze could do to you in person, and now the full force of it is dizzying. 

“Goodnight, little lamb.”

-

A gentle scratch sounds on the other side of the window. You look up from your writing desk to the windows facing the mountains. Beyond the first sprawling peaks, you see the tallest of them all, the dark mountain wreathed in shadow and lightning. 

The thunder rolls, vibrating your bones. You stare at the mountain, feeling the hair at the back of your neck stand on end. You grip the quill tight. 

Beneath the hum of thunder, you hear a scratching on the glass again. You squint, but you see nothing there. Just open air and those ominous mountains in the back, watching you as you scrawl your letters. 

Carefully, you set the quill down and get up. The floor is cold as you walk toward the window, which is strange. The floor is always warm in your room, as are the walls and most of the House of Dreams, fueled by whatever magic lives through Yoongi. 

Near the glass, you almost feel how cold the window is. You frown and lift a hand, pressing a single finger against a pane. It’s freezing to the touch and you yank your hand back, perplexed as you stare at the single fingerprint left by your warm skin. 

The fingerprint fades but the scratching sound does not. A gentle scritch scritch scritch, like a nail on the window. 

“My betrothed,” someone whispers. Your blood runs cold and you whirl around, expecting to find someone standing in your bathroom. “Won’t you open the window for me? It’s so cold outside.” 

Fear turns your stomach into acid. Your hands begin to shake as you stare into the emptiness of your room, suddenly feeling like it’s darker. Did the ceilings get taller? Is your room blurry at the edges? The scratching on the window intensifies, and with trembling lips, you turn to look over your shoulder.

There’s nothing outside, but there’s a shadowy reflection on the glass. A little taller than you. A little wider. 

“Betrothed,” Nathaniel whispers again. “Won’t you let me in to reunite?” 

For a moment, there is silence. The shadow doesn’t move. You don’t dare breathe. The shadow leaps at you and a scream tears through you -

Hands press you into something soft. You kick and scream, lashing out. Sheets tangle your legs and stick to your sweaty skin. Suddenly it feels like you can’t breathe and you thrash wildly, screaming at the top of your lungs as you claw at whatever’s holding you down.

Panic like never before seizes you. Your head smacks into something hard and it knocks you backward, suddenly dizzy as a hand comes up to your head automatically. It hurts where your fingers press into the skin, and you’re momentarily subdued by the way the room spins; the pain morphs your panic into confusion.

Breathing heavily, you blink your eyes rapidly, tears streaming down your face and vision a little blurry as you try and put the pieces together. Finally, you realize Taehyung is sitting on the floor next to your bed with his hand pressed against his forehead, in a similar fashion to your current state. Yoongi stands next to him, hands held up tentatively, as though he is about to grab you or has just let you go. 

Silence hangs in the air, your breathing ragged. Your head - which you can surmise you’ve smacked against Taehyung’s - throbs wildly. As though sensing your discomfort and sticky thoughts, Yoongi’s eyes flicker away from your gaze to your head.

“May I fix that?” he asks slowly, voice gentle. “You smacked heads quite hard. I’m concerned you may be concussed.” 

“Concussed,” you repeat back slowly. The word feels heavy on your tongue. “Right.”

Yoongi’s face colors with concern and he gestures toward you, asking permission again. It takes you another minute to put it together, but you nod dumbly, watching as he steps forward very slowly, dark eyes looking for any sign of protest or panic from you.

When you don’t bolt or swing at him, he takes another step toward you, hands reaching up toward your skull. You flinch when he reaches near and he stops, hands hovering. You can feel the heat of his skin a hair's breadth away, feel the magic skimming along him where he hesitates. 

You look up at Yoongi. His eyes are wide and full of concern, his brows pulled up. His tongue darts out to lick his lips nervously as his eyes shift from your head to your eyes, trying to assess what to do. You smell cinnamon and clove and it calms you a little. 

This is Yoongi. Not Nathaniel. Yoongi, who saved you from the grips of that hateful man and who brought you here. Somewhere that made you happy.

“It’s okay,” you whisper. You feel tired suddenly, like your adrenaline is waning and the aftereffects are bleeding you out. “Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” he whispers, pressing his hands gently to your head. You wince, the lump there giving a painful throb as he does. 

“Maybe apologize,” Taehyung mutters from his spot on the floor. “Are you going to give me magic hand, too?”

“Silence, Taehyung.” Yoongi’s voice is cutting. It’s a voice you’ve never heard him use with Taehyung, your eyes shooting up to his in shock. He pays you no mind, focused on his hands. 

Warmth emanates from his palms. Immediately you feel the tingle of magic. It’s soothing, making your eyes flutter as you become dizzy again. You let the warmth wash over you, accompanied by a peculiar array of senses: dark spicy smells; the feeling of velvet against your skin; the taste of cherry wine; a warm breath against your lips.

You shiver, head rolling back a little as it grows heavy and you grow drowsy suddenly, limbs weighted, mind fading. 

“I didn’t… I didn’t know that was a dream.” Yoongi grimaces and says nothing. “Why didn’t that feel like a dream, Yoongi?”

“Sleep,” Yoongi murmurs, and his voice feels very far away. “You’ll be fine, now. You don’t have to worry about anything.”

“Thank you.”

“An easy fix.” 

Yoongi removes his hand and you catch his wrist gently, eyes opening for a moment. “No,” you slur, speech heavy as the exhaustion pulls at you. “Thank you for saving me.”

You don’t know if you mean before, or when your neighbors came for you, or now. Maybe you mean all of it. Maybe you mean saving you from a life that you hated and bringing you here. You mean it nonetheless, though you’re unsure from where the bravery came to say it.

Dropping Yoongi’s wrist, you fall backward unceremoniously onto your bed. There is no fear of Nathaniel scratching at the glass anymore, your mind mostly empty, save for the smell of cinnamon and clove. 

Yoongi and Taehyung gather to leave your room, and as you fade, you catch the tiniest bit of conversation from Taehyung. “... need to teach her. It’s only going to get worse… spinner.” 

Sleep takes you. 

-

Being back in the House of Dreams feels like home. Though the lingering feeling of hot flame and the look on your parents’ faces as they watch their home burn still haunts you, you feel safer than you have in the last week. 

In the House of Dreams, there's no one to mutter prayers and sign wards against evil as you pass by. There’s no one glaring at you - except Taehyung, who pouts when you steal the last of the honey for your toast at breakfast. It’s just Yoongi and Taehyung, who talk more chipper than usual at breakfast. 

You eye Yoongi carefully. He sits at the head of the table, dressed in a beautiful, jade-colored silk shirt. His hair is pulled back in a bun, earrings dangling as he leads forward and plucks melon from the bowl in front of him. 

Yoongi lifts the fruit to his mouth. You pause chewing your toast, eyes focused on the way he bites into the fruit, lips plush around it, a bead of juice running down his chin. Suddenly you’re thinking about the night at The Desert Rose, a head between legs, a back that’s arched, skin sweaty-

Taehyung clears his throat from across the table and draws your attention. He’s staring at you with thinly veiled amusement, wiggling his eyebrows up and down. You scowl and take a large bite of your toast before swallowing what's in your mouth, feeling heat bloom in your cheeks and neck. 

Yoongi is none the wiser, chewing happily on his fruit as he scratches Tiara under her chin. She chirps like a bird and purrs like a cat, letting out small curls of smoke everytime she puffs happily. 

Your mouth twitches in a smile as you look at your plate, happy to be back with them. 

“I want you to come to the Dream Tower with me today,” Yoongi ventures lightly. You snap your gaze up in surprise. He looks casual, as though he’s not offering you to come to the place he works, filled with magic and dreams. “I think you could help me.”

“Me?”

His mouth quirks. “Is there another human prone to trouble around here that I’m not aware of?” 

“I thought you blamed yourself?”

“So I do. But yes - you.” 

“How do you want me to help?”

Yoongi grins as he pops another piece of fruit into his sinful mouth. “You’ll see.” 

Despite your excitement and the promise of a look inside  Yoongi’s lair, even him asking for your help doesn’t earn you a break from daily reading and writing lessons. When Yoongi gestures to the assigned work on your desk, you throw him a severe look followed by a pout. As endeared as he seems, he is unwavering, patting your desk chair as he walks by. 

You’re not really mad. You fall into an easy calm as you sit down and scoot up toward the desk. The fire is low and crackling in the fireplace today and the library smells faintly of cardamom as you work. Tiara flights around the second story of the room, chittering and following Yoongi - who seems to be organizing the shelves. 

Taehyung vanishes to do whatever it is he does during the day. You’re not even sure if it’s day in your world. You hope he will take you to The Desert Rose again to see Jimin and to drink cider. You love the warmth of the crowd and the loud bustle. 

The House of Dreams is quiet. 

Time slips as you work. You lose yourself in swirling letters and short reading passages, so much so that when there is a tingling presence near your shoulder, you flinch, ripping your quill across the page and splattering ink. 

Yoongi tsks and apologizes, grabbing an ink stained cloth to wipe the spilled liquid from the desk. His proximity makes your head spin, the edge of his hips grazing your shoulder as he leans over you to clean the mess you’ve made. 

Mouth drying, you drop the quill and flex your hand, coughing out an apology as you try to organize your thoughts that spill like the ink on the desk at his nearness. 

Being away from him almost made you forget how dizzying his presence could be. Yoongi regards your work in silence, but all you can focus on is the measured sound of his breathing, the warmth radiating from him, the curve of his mouth, the juice running down his-

“Ready?”

“What?” you ask, blinking and looking up at him owlishly. He gazes down at you, cocking a brow. It’s obvious he had asked you a question. “Sorry, I wasn’t listening?” 

“What were you doing?”

“... Staring.”

“At?”

“The wall?”

“Are you asking me or telling me?” he questions, his voice laced with teasing. 

You scowl and shove your chair backward into his stomach, knocking him back. He lets out a loud oof and a bit of laughter as you stand and stretch, hyperaware that he’s been in a rather cheeky mood since breakfast. 

Together, you begin your walk to the tower. Tiara comes along, jumping up on Yoongi’s shoulder and curling herself around him like a scarf, her tail wrapped gently around his neck. She regards you with distaste and her tongue flickers out to taste the air, a curl of smoke escaping her nose as she huffs.

Fighting the urge to stick your tongue out at a dragon, you opt to walk in comfortable silence. 

As you do, your thoughts inevitably drift to the night before and the dream that didn’t feel like a dream. For the most part, you feel like you can tell when you’re dreaming. There’s always an opaque feeling to your dreams, something a little off. 

Now, you’re worried that perhaps you can’t tell the difference. You think that maybe you should ask Yoongi if he can help you tell the difference between being awake and dreaming, but your desire to ask is stopped as you reach the foot of stairs you’ve never climbed before. 

Yoongi looks down at you as he begins ascending, giving you a gummy smile that sends your pulse galloping after him. You curse your traitor heart, trying to remember what Taehyung said to you about the relationship between dreams and humans. It could never work. But… you’re here. In Yoongi’s home, and you don’t know how long you’re allowed to stay - if you’re ever supposed to go back again.

Both of you seem to completely ignore that you were brought back to the dream realm ahead of schedule, that maybe going back is no longer an option. 

There are doors leading to rooms as you ascend the stairs. Yoongi ignores all of them in favor of climbing up, up, and up. Your calves burn by the time you make it to the top, pausing to catch your breath and sweep your eyes across the large, circular room. 

It’s stunning. Glancing up, your mouth falls open in surprise when you see that there is no ceiling, but a mass of writhing cosmos and something like a night sky. The nebulous display casts a lavender and blue glow on the room below, the two-tone light shifting and moving. 

There are all manner of things in the room. Tables covered in papers, rich rugs with different designs, chairs and bookshelves and curiosity cabinets and glass cases full of glowing things that you cannot identify. Tiara hops off of Yoongi’s shoulder and floats on small wings toward a pile of blankets, twigs, and leaves that looks like a nest.

What demands your attention most, though, is the massive stone dais in the room, with a stone column about waist high with something that looks like a bowl carved into the top. From where you stand, you can see there’s liquid in the bowl that moves and shimmers with its own glow. Occasionally, a sparkle or wisp of color drifts from the cool surface.

Energy vibrates in the air. You can feel it like a static on your skin and taste it like a buzz on your tongue. You’re drawn to the dais, taking a step forward and halting. It feels like a hum shivers through you. You look at Yoongi, questioning. 

“The dream pool,” he answers, as though you have any idea what that is. 

He walks toward it and looks back at you, hesitating before he offers a hand. Excitement shoots through you as you take his hand and he pulls you toward it. Your hand tingles where you hold his. Even when you reach the dais and he lets go, there’s pins and needles left behind. 

“This is where I help create dreams for those who can’t do it on their own.” 

The liquid in the basin brightens as Yoongi steps up close. You watch as a watercolor of lights splashes across his face. He looks down into the bowl lovingly, a soft smile on his face, and so much adoration in his eyes that you find yourself watching him instead of the magical water in the bowl. 

“This room is full of things that help inspire dreams. I make everything myself but Taehyung likes to help - he likes to decorate and fill the room with items that inspire creativity.”

“Somehow I think dream personified doesn’t need it.”

He shoots you a grin. “You’d be surprised. Come look.”

Tentatively, you step up next to him. You’re aware of how close you stand, his sleeves brushing yours as he places a hand on the basin. It comes up to your stomach and is two feet in diameter. The water looks so much deeper than you thought. You’re unable to see the bottom, an illusion that makes you dizzy.

Like the sky above, the water shimmers and moves with its own set of stars and colors. It feels alive, like whatever power is in the dream pool recognizes you and wakes up, spinning as you look into the glittering surface. 

“I can feel and hear people dream,” Yoongi explains. “It’s like a frequency that I can tap into. I can turn it on and off at a whim. Those who don’t struggle to dream are so much quieter than those who cannot dream. I listen for those who cannot, and I come here and focus on them in my mind’s eye before creating them a dream. I pour in thoughts, feelings, scents, sounds, memories and the like into this bowl. I think it, and so it appears.” 

“How?”

“What you’d call magic. Really it’s just divine power. This is a part of me,” he says, tapping the rim of the basin. “Just like dreams are.”

“How can I help you do… this?” you ask, gesturing wildly to the water.

Yoongi’s smile is angelic. “You have the raw capability of a dreamer. Someone who dreams so powerfully and loudly that it can’t help but catch my attention.”

“What does that mean?”

“Your imagination and your ability to come up with things is more innate than most people. You’re an innovator, a great conjurer of stories and fantasies. It’s a rare gift in humans. Some call you Spinners - you can spin dreams up just as easily as I can, with practice, but you cannot do so without a tool like this basin.” 

“A spinner.” You remember the night before, hearing the word on Taehyung’s lips. “Are there others?” 

He nods. “Under fifty in the entire world. I believe you’ve met another one. He’s the one Taehyung visits.”

“Jimin?” 

“Mhmm. He’s like you. You have no power though, not in your world. Just raw ability.”

“So if I were to use this… pool of dreams, I could give people dreams.”

He nods, smiling. You smile back at him, his happiness infectious. You like the way his eyes crinkle when he grins broadly at you, the way his cheeks tint pink. It is strange to think that this soft man in front of you is also the same dark, powerful god who has swept in to save you, whose voice haunts your dreams and whose phantom touch lingers in all of the places that it shouldn’t. 

Licking his lips and rolling his shoulders, Yoongi takes his stance at the basin. You watch, fascinated as he sweeps a hand over the surface, not touching the water. It ripples an entire rainbow of colors, casting shadows on his face when he peers down into the water as the surface smoothes out like a mirror. 

An opaque image materializes on the surface. You watch as Yoongi concentrates. Slowly, things begin appearing. A cerulean ocean, waves rolling gently against a sandy beach. Foam clings to the sand. Starfish of every color - blue, green, red - begin to dot the beach. A gull cries above, so clear it feels like you’re there. Then you smell it - the salt, the brine. The subtle scent of driftwood. A breeze blows against your face, carrying the cool ocean mist. 

You let out a laugh as Yoongi smiles, his eyes never leaving the images unfolding in the basin. You watch as a dolphin crests a wave, earning a gasp from you. You’ve never seen a dolphin, only heard about them in passing from fishermen from the coast. They spray water high into the air as they break the waves, moving smoothly through glittering waters. 

It feels so real and warm, the dream bright and full of hope. Happiness. Excitement. You feel what Yoongi pours into the basin, your toes curling as though you can feel hot sand beneath your feet. 

“The trick,” Yoongi explains carefully, “Is imagining everything that would make it feel real. It can’t be just what you see. It has to be what you hear, what you feel, what you smell, what emotions you evoke. You have to do all of these things at once - you have to believe in them all at once. Dreams about real things are the easiest. More complex dreams can include anything you can imagine that humans believe to be fake: dragons, brownies, griffons.” 

“How do you know what to give?” 

“You feel it. Place your hand on the side.” 

Carefully, you lift your hand to the side of the dream pool. You hesitate and look up at Yoongi, eyes wide. He gives you an encouraging nod. You place your hand on the bowl, feeling the warm stone. 

A pulse of energy flows through you. You gasp, flinching a little as you feel the basin come alive under your touch. You close your eyes as sensations flood you: hopelessness, stress, exhaustion. Suddenly, Yoongi’s dream makes sense. He instills a sense of peace and serenity at the beach, of hope and wonder with the dolphins, of rest with the cool wind and warm sand. 

“Amazing,” you breathe, eyes still closed. “This is wonderful.” 

“I’ll do some more. Keep your hand where it is. You’ll feel what it is they feel. Try not to think too hard about anything while you’re connected - let me do the work.” 

Watching Yoongi work can happen with your eyes closed, you realize. You lose yourself in time and space. No longer are you in the Dream Tower. Now, Yoongi walks you through the world.

You enter through dreams, feeling sudden sadness or loss, even heartache. Every dream you encounter, there is profound suffering at the beginning. Yoongi gently sends the pain on its way, observes what each dreamer needs, and begins spinning up images. Sounds. Feelings. 

Rain falls on your face as you stand over the tops of a misty forest. It’s gentle and cool to the touch, soothing. You smell pine and damp earth, giving you energy. Your toes feel the wet grass beneath you, grounding you and making you feel more centered than you ever have.

Wheat brushes the tips of your fingers. You look out into a sea of gold, healthy crops bending with the wind. An azure sky stretches mile after mile, not a cloud in sight as the sun heats your skin. You smell fresh air and hear the grasshoppers buzz among the fresh stalks of wheat, feeling the reward of growing healthy grain. 

A dog runs after a ball. The hills are the brightest shade of green you’ve ever seen, the dog dashing up the hill and barking loudly. You feel laughter bubble up your throat and unfettered joy as thick clouds float by. The dog grabs the ball and runs back, its tail wagging and coat shiny. You feel nostalgic and happy to be reunited with a friend. 

Fireflies flicker to life in a forest at night. They alight on the tree branches and your arms, casting gold luminescence on your skin. You marvel at them, spinning in a circle as you look at the dark trees. You smell the maple sap and the bark, you hear the crickets.

It’s just like the woods near your house -

Your house. 

A slice of fear goes through you. You remember the darkness of the woods as Nathaniel tried to drown you, the press of his fingers into your skull. The roaring of the flooding water and the burning of your lungs. The fireflies flicker out one by one and the darkness begins to grow. You’re suddenly terrified. Curiosity vanishes and is replaced with deep fear. 

You taste stale water in your mouth. You smell the smoke of your burning house. You feel water rushing up to your ankles and inching higher, you hear the screams of Nathaniel’s vitriol, you feel your lungs start to fill, the air stars to leave, the roots of the trees grab at your feet-

A sharp yank pulls you out of the forest. You gasp for air, falling backward off of the dais and onto the floor. Gentle hands cradle your face and you hear a deep voice calling out to you, speaking your name through the dull roar in your ears. 

Blinking, you look upward to see Yoongi inches away from your face. His eyes are round and gentle, his hands steady. Warm. He’s so close you can feel his breath on your lips as he leans over you. A strand of dark hair escapes his bun, falling across his forehead and eye. You don’t know why, but you think it looks dashing. 

“Hey,” he murmurs, searching your face. “Are you with me?” 

“Yeah,” you rasp, lungs heaving. “What happened?” 

His thumb brushes back and forth across your cheek as he sighs, but he doesn’t let go of your face. “You thought of the night that I saved you. Your fear was powerful. Raw. As you started to remember things you grew more afraid and you took over the dream.”

You blink once. Twice. Remember the way that the fireflies suddenly flickered out and how the water started to rush in from nowhere. “I did that?” 

“I didn’t expect you to be such a natural. I had a feeling but… you caught me by surprise and shoved me out.”

“I can do that?”

“When I’m caught off guard, yes. You took control of creating the dream and turned it into…”

“A nightmare.”

He nods. “It’s my fault. I didn’t think you would think that forest looked the same, but I was wrong. I keep… having oversights. I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”

“Good at what?”

“Being human.” 

Silence suspends between you. You’re sprawled on the floor of the Dream Tower with Yoongi hovering over you. His knees are pressed against your hips and his shirt collar is hanging low as he leans, revealing more skin than you’ve ever seen from him. You don’t dare drop your eyes from his, staring at their dark depths.

The space between you is minimal and neither of you move. You hope he cannot hear the way your heart hammers in your chest or sense the way your body crackles like lightning, sparking at his proximity. The nightmare you made is long forgotten, replaced with his touch, his smell, his closeness. 

Yoongi holds your face delicately, like a treasured item. You cannot imagine that he means to hold you so, but the sudden want that licks through you is powerful, your desire for him to hold you like you’re something precious surprising you in its strength. 

“You make me want to get better at it.” His voice is soft, barely even a whisper. 

“At what?”

A gentle laugh. “Being human. It is unfamiliar, but I wish to know more of what it's like. To have more of the instinct.”

“Why?”

He pauses. “Because I’ve lived for thousands of years, and never really had the chance to try.” 

It is a similar sentiment that Taehyung had shared. The thought of Taehyung makes you smile, sitting up suddenly. Yoongi leans back on his haunches quickly, careful not to knock heads. “What?” he asks, noting your sudden excitement. 

“Has Taehyung ever taken you to the Desert Rose?”

“No, I can’t say I’ve been interested. Why?”

You grab his hand. You notice the way he seems surprised, but he doesn’t pull away as you scramble to your feet. “You want to see what it’s like to be human. I know a place.” 

-

Yoongi makes a face as he sips the beer Taehyung has thrust into his hands. You and Taehyung laugh, tossing your heads back with it. Yoongi looks unimpressed but continues to drink nonetheless, his dark eyes scanning the crowded bar. 

He sticks out like a sore thumb. Eyes are immediately drawn to Yoongi wherever he goes. You think everyone must feel the divinity as he walks by them, his power a magnet for attention. Even sitting at the table with you and Taehyung, tucked near the door, people turn in their seats to get a good look at him or pause when they enter the Desert Rose. 

It doesn’t help that he looks beautiful. Air had gotten stuck in your throat when he arrived at the library at the appointed time to meet you and Taehyung to come here. His hair hangs in soft waves around his face, earrings peaking between inky strands when he moves his head. His dark shirt is long-sleeved but unbuttoned at the throat, revealing a strip of pale, smooth skin and his layered necklaces. His eyes are glittering tonight, almost like constellations are held within. 

Yoongi is the night. The black pants and black boots paired with the shirt make him look like a dark prince. Perhaps the son of the moon, even. You notice the way the stares turn from curious to hungry, Yoongi lighting a fire among those around him. 

Jealousy sours your stomach. You hate that it does, but it’s like a second instinct, some sort of possessive monster rearing its head as you avert your gaze when a beautiful man asks Yoongi if he wants to dance. Yoongi shakes his head, giving a polite smile in return before turning away and chugging more of his drink.

If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was nervous. 

“Thousands of years old and a room full of people scares you,” Taehyung teases, confirming your suspicions. Yoongi’s gaze is thin as a razor. “You should get out more. I’ve been telling you that.”

“Eternals don’t make a habit of walking around the human realm. Our presence disturbs the natural chemistry of the world.”

“Then why did you spend so many days in the wood-”

Yoongi kicks Taehyung under the table. He hollers in pain as Yoongi glowers, making you giggle. Though he’s no natural among the crowd, you can see that he’s trying to fit in. He watches the way people slouch in their chair and he imitates it. Drinks more of his beer, not because of the taste but because it's what people do here. 

Music thrums in the room. There is a crowd of people clapping their hands and dancing, stomping their feet along to the music. You nervously look at Yoongi throughout the night, trying to see if he’s enjoying himself, wondering what he thinks of the place. 

A couple near your table knocks over a pitcher of mead as the man presses the woman into the table in an arduous kiss. You can’t help but watch for a moment, entranced by the way he kisses her as though he’ll die if he doesn’t, as if her lips are the last thing he wants to remember. 

Sensing Yoongi’s gaze on you, you glance at him. He stares at you, drinking you in before his eyes drift to the couple you’d been studying. Embarrassment heats your face as you bring your cup to your lips, hiding behind the tankard as you take large gulps of cider. 

The cider takes the edge off. It makes you feel warm and loose, though you’re still a little nervous with Yoongi’s quiet countenance sitting beside you. 

“Jimin’s here!” you announce excitedly, clapping your hands together when he appears downstairs. Taehyung’s knee bumps into the bottom of the table as he jerks to turn around. “Jimin should meet Yoongi!”

“I would love to.” 

Taehyung groans. “No, please.”

“Why not?” Yoongi demands. “Should I not meet the human that brings my friend here most evenings? Should I not meet the friend of my -” Yoongi looks at you and stumbles over his words. “- my friend?” 

Friend. You’re not sure if the word fits, exactly. But you don’t know what else it is that Yoongi would call you. Friend implies something beyond acquaintances, which you are sure you are. But it fits like an ill-sized dress, hanging crooked on your frame.

“I don’t want you to scare him off!” Taehyung protests. 

Yoongi looks dubious. “Why would I do that?”

“Shut up,” you hiss as Jimin notices you. You lift your hand in an eager wave, beckoning him over. “Yoongi, be nice.”

“I am nice. Do you think I’m not nice?” 

Instead of answering him, you get up to greet Jimin warmly with a chaste kiss on the cheek and a brief hug. When you step back, you see Yoongi’s burning gaze, a tick in his jaw as he stares Jimin down, tonguing his cheek. You hiss at Yoongi and snap your finger to signal for him to drop the severe expression. 

He looks at you and his features smooth out as he rises to his feet lithely, reaching an arm around you. Yoongi startles you when he places his hand on your mid-back as he leans forward to shake Jimin’s, introducing himself. 

The contact is so brief that you wonder if he had done it at all as he sits down. For a moment, you’re the only one standing, staring at Yoongi in confusion as the three men sit. They all look at you expectantly and you plop down suddenly. 

“Are you alright?” Jimin asks, mirth evident in his voice.

“Yes,” you answer quickly, still recovering. It felt like a deliberate touch. Firm, but gentle. Polite, but… something. “How are you?” 

To your pleasure - and Taehyung’s evident relief - Yoongi and Jimin get along fine. If Jimin is put off by Yoongi’s peculiarity, he doesn’t show it. You wonder if he’s used to being around Taehyung, who has his own strange charm and inhuman energy vibrating around him. 

Yoongi says little, but seems comfortable. You watch him as he watches Taehyung, who has stars in his eyes every time he looks at Jimin. He leans closer to Jimin as they mutter about something conspiratorially, giggling behind their hands. Jimin brushes a strand of hair out of Taehyung’s face and the love that blooms in Taehyung’s expression is so evident that you wonder if Jimin knows. He has to know. And he looks like he feels the same. 

When Jimin drags Taehyung up to dance, you encourage them, shooing them off toward the growing crowd of people spinning around the room. Tables are shoved out of the way, chairs scraping to make room for the revelers. You move your chair some as your table is pushed, making the beers tilt dangerously. 

Yoongi grabs the leg of your chair and pulls it roughly toward him. Before you can say something, someone stumbles where your chair just was, toppling into the table next to you. You look at Yoongi with shock and he winks before returning to lounging in his seat, watching the crowd. 

Now that you’re sitting much closer to him, you can smell him. Still, you try to relax, watching as Jimin teaches Taehyung the steps to the dance the crowd is doing. 

“Thank you for bringing me here,” Yoongi says over the loud voices. “This is nice. I see why Taehyung likes it.”

“You don’t hate it?” He makes a face and you laugh. “Yoongi, you hate it.”

“It’s a bit loud, but I don’t hate it. I like the quiet. I like… solitude. But not always. This is a good break.” 

“So you never just… stroll among the people sometimes?”

“Never had a reason to.”

“But how can you make dreams if you don’t know people?”

“Dreams are inherent to me. They are an instinct. They aren’t born from people. They’re born from something rawer than that. People just happen to dream.” 

You hum, not sure that you follow. Silence lulls between you as the song changes. “This place is so different from anywhere I’ve been,” you tell him. “My mother and father would have hated a place like this where people want so freely and people are so… provocative.”

“Life is provocative. So is nature, and magic. And dreams.” 

“Is that why you’re a god of desire, too?” He nods once, his eyes on you. “Can you… sense what people innately desire? All the time?” 

You don’t ask the real question, which is: Can you tell what I desire when I’m with you? Still, Yoongi shrugs a shoulder. “Snippets. LIke I said, I try not to pry. I don’t think that anyone here needs to be inspired by me to delve into what they want here, that’s for sure.” His eyes darken. “Though perhaps there is one.”

It is not your imagination when he says it. You know that he means you. This you are sure of. You stare at Yoongi, the rest of the room fading away. He stares right back at you, as though willing you to agree, or to deny his claim. Your heart speeds up and you feel the sweat on your neck, the slick on your palms. 

“You said you’d help me indulge.” Your voice shakes when you say it. “How… do I do that?”

Yoongi’s mouth kicks up at the side. He leans forward and offers you a hand. When you just stare at it, he laughs. “Dance with me.”

“Dancing? That is indulging?” 

“You might be surprised.” 

Tension goes taught between you. You feel it sizzling in the air as you stare one another down. Yoongi’s hand remains outstretched, beckoning. Slowly, you put the cup of cider down and slide your hand into his. You’ve done this so many times, letting him lead you somewhere or help you up. 

When Yoongi grips your hand and pulls you to your feet, it feels different than all the times before. The soft, gentle Eternal of dreams has melted away and left something sharper. Darker. Edgier. Your heart flutters butterfly-fast as he leads you to where there are people spinning in tight circles on the floor. 

Yoongi yanks you toward him, pulling you into his chest. One hand loops over his shoulder, your palm cradling the back of his neck, while the other grips his. His hand goes snuggling around your waist, pulling you firmly to him as he ducks his head toward your ear, voice deep and soft as he whispers, “Follow me.” 

You would follow him anywhere, you think. Anywhere at all. 

Dancing is not something you ever recall doing. It wasn’t necessary where you grew up. Most of your festivals in town were a reserved affair and you’d never been to any parties or celebrations. Most weddings were stiff and formal, and not for merriment as much as respect. 

Now, your world turns into a kaleidoscope of color and laughter. Yoongi spins you around the room, his feet smooth and fast. You stumble to keep up at first, but Yoongi is a confident lead, his steps instructing yours, his hands pulling and guiding you as you go. 

Laughter rushes out of you. You cannot help the glee that glitters in your veins. Yoongi’s laughter is like spilled moonlight. You look up at him with a grin, seeing his gummy smile as he dips you suddenly, making you squeal. Your fingers tangle in his shirt. You know he won’t drop you but the exhilaration is in your veins as he lifts you back up, crushing you to him. 

Your arms and legs burn with effort as you continue. The song changes and Yoongi lets go and spins you. You go crashing into Taehyung’s arms. He’s a far worse dancer than Yoongi, and the two of you are a mess of tripped feet, trilling laughter and elbows into ribs. He pushes you back to Yoongi’s waiting arms. 

It terrifies you how much it feels like home, like a key sliding into a lock. Your arms go around him as his hands squeeze your waist. You come alive where you touch, looking up at him. He watches you, the shadow of his lashes framing delicate eyes. His mouth is red and soft. 

Yoongi’s eyes dart down to your mouth. Your breath catches and he moves a little closer, pressing his head to yours, noses brushing. The entire world vanishes and it’s just Yoongi, his lips so close you can almost taste them, his fingers digging into your hips. 

Your eyes flutter shut just as someone crashes into you. You scream as you’re knocked hard into Yoongi, the two of you stumbling as he catches you from falling over completely. The crowd goes wild with laughter as a man is sprawled on the ground, laughing and drunk, having lost his balance. 

A breathless laugh escapes you as you and Yoongi straighten, separating a little. The moment between you is shattered, clattering away like pieces of broken glass as you catch your breath and gather your wits. You look around, searching for Taehyung only to see him alone at your table, eyes heavy and gaze lingering across the room. You turn to see Jimin leaning on the bar, smiling at something a woman is whispering in his ear. 

Glancing back at Taehyung, you see him shove away from the table and storm out the door. Yoongi notices this too, but he’s slow on the uptake, his hand still on your hip. You shake off his hold on you and go after Taehyung, shouting his name.

Taehyung is just outside the Desert Rose, head tilted down and shoulders pulled up tight around his ears. When you touch the small of his back, he flinches, gazing at you with tear-stained eyes and a look so crestfallen you feel your heart crack.

He sniffs. “This is why,” he whispers. “This is why I told you we can never be. Humans and dreams - we aren’t. We don’t match.” 

“Taehyung,” you whisper. You don’t know what else to say. You open your arms and he leans into you, folding in half as he sobs, breaking down into your shoulder. You hush him gently, holding him tight and squeezing him, trying to pour your love into him. 

Over Taehyung’s shoulder, your gaze settles on Yoongi. He watches the two of you in silence, face impassive. And your heart breaks a little more, realizing the truth of Taehyung’s words. 

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NOTE: YOU MUST HAVE YOUR AGE OR AGE RANGE SOMEWHERE ON YOUR BLOG TO BE TAGGED IN A TAG LIST. A TON OF YOU DO NOT HAVE THI, AND THUS HAVE NOT BEEN TAGGED. IF THERE IS A DASH THROUGH YOUR NAME, TUMBLR WILL NOT TAG YOU PLEASE CORRECT THIS.

[oldphanny]

How To Block Terrible Influence Tour Spoilers (Tumblr App)

Hello phriends and phamily!

Tit is starting in less than 24 hours!!!

I don't know if someone has already done this post, but I know there has been an influx of new phannies crossing over from different platforms as of late.

So I thought I would show you all how to block the #titspoilers tag from your dash. This tut is for the Tumblr App because that's just what I use, I would assume the website would be a similar process!

If you are someone that doesn't want the show to be spoiled before you see it for yourself, follow these steps!!

STEP 1

Let's start from the dashboard to make it easy.

Go ahead and press the profile button on the bottom right hand side of the screen, the one that looks like a little guys torso. This will take you to your blog!

STEP 2

Now you should be looking at your blog (hey look that's me!)

In the top right hand corner should be a little gear icon, these are your settings! Go for it!

STEP 3

Oooo my blogs backroom... you should have let me know you were coming... I would have cleaned up a bit.

Now go and hit the 'Account Settings' button which should be the first on the list!

STEP 4

You're doing great! We're almost there!!

Now you'll want to tap on the 'Content You See' option which will be below 'Mentions' and above 'Color Palette'. Sorry, I forgot an arrow on this one.

STEP 5

WE'RE HERE! As you can see, I already have the tags I want censored ready to go but here is how you can add your own.

Right up the top next to the 'Filtered Tags' heading is a '+New' button, tap that!

STEP 6

Now you can type out the tag you want to be hidden and click 'add'. Remember to type them out and add individually otherwise it won't work.

From what I can gather, the Tumblr Phandom is agreeing that all Tit Spoilers should be tagged #titspoilers. I've added some other variations to be extra safe but you do whatever works for you :).

And that should be it!! If you have any other questions, let me know. Otherwise I hope this has helped some people that may not have known or were too afraid to ask <3 Love y'all, let's all enjoy tit together!!

[pinescent-and-gingerbread]

Hi, how you doing, luv? I saw your requests were open so here I am!

I told this idea to a friend and we liked it so much I needed to see it written, and I love how you write Arthur!

I don't usually request/like low honor Arthur but hear me out! Low honor Arthur with a female reader and he's user her as his alibi whenever he goes on a killing spree. But she happily applies, smiling at the officers when she gets questioned like "it ain't him officer. how do I know that, you say? he was with me the whole time🤭" while Arthur quietly cleans the blood splatters off his guns

Samy!! Here it is!! I really hope you'll like it😭 Also, hell yes, what an ask! Loved writing it. Makes me want to write more Low!Honor. And ngggh the best compliment ever telling me you love how I write him I can't

˖✧ Pretty lies

✦ Pairing: Low!Honor Arthur Morgan x Fem!Reader  ✦ Warnings/Tags: Blood (obviously), guns, cursing, canon era speech, ending is suggestive. Therefore, MDNI, please! ✦ Words: 1,8k ✦ a/n: Okay so, this is my first attempt ever at a Low Honnor Arthur. I guess I just made him bolder, extra cocky+extra flirty? Hope it’ll fit! ALSO, as always, English isn't my first language, I'm sorry if anything sounds weird. Please if you notice any mistakes, reach up to me! ✦Credits. First pic is from Reddeadcomfort on Pinterest, gun pic from Pinterest too. Second one from my playthrough; blood stains and dividers by me.

Arthur’s violence wasn’t a secret to anyone. Not to anybody in camp, not to you, certainly not to himself. 

Not even to numerous people at this point, considering the large number of poor fellas who had the bad luck to cross him and ended up beaten to a pulp, covered in bruises, head in a drinking trough, riddled with bullets, or even worse.

But you loved him, no matter what. You knew about his flaws. Knew about his brutal, crude side. But around you, this heated aura was turning into something else entirely. And you liked it.

So, when a panting Arthur had rushed to you on the porch of Strawberry’s hotel, blood covering his entire self, face and hair included, blue eyes shining sapphires in a tide of rubies, you weren’t that surprised. You were even less when he asked you to be his alibi for whatever the Hell he just did, as he had taken the habit of doing lately. Lying for Arthur’s crimes could have looked like an immoral thing to do, but as a member of the gang too, you clearly weren’t a saint either.

And you really were enjoying this little game.

The subtle grin Arthur had every time you would lie in front of the police for him, asserting with absolute conviction you had been together all day. The rosy tone his cheeks, ears and neck were displaying when you felt bolder and added some details in your alibis. Details about fake, steamy nights or afternoons you were supposed to have shared, swearing to the Lord you had the unholiest of times together. Oh, the look he was giving you. Knowing, amused, dreamy and so, so proud and debauched. Lustful, even.

You were sure he was enjoying it too.

“Alright, I’ll cover for you again. But at least go take a bath, I can’t do miracles.” You ordered him, a devilish smile on your face. 

“Thank you, sugar.” Arthur quickly answered, his voice just a low, breathless mumbling, barely letting you distinguish his words.

He quickly entered the hotel and you heard the receptionist gasp from where you were. You chuckled to yourself, imagining his outraged face rapidly losing all its composure under Arthur’s hard gaze piercing through the layer of blood, ordering him to prepare a bath as gently as if he was doing a hold-up.

Poor man must have liquefied on the spot.

You leaned against the patio’s fence and breathed in the fresh late afternoon air of Strawberry, alpenglow golden and rosy on top of the mountains, a peaceful scenery under your eyes. Contrasting with the horror and brutality Arthur must have left in his trail.

He was quick to join you again, looking fresh and neat as if he were a completely normal gentleman. His messy hair and dirty beard long gone, a nice black shirt, shiny boots, and a scout jacket on, probably to match Strawberry people's clothes. 

The only things that hadn't benefited from a change were his eternal Gambler hat and his holster and revolvers, both still painted with blood stains, a red and morbid Appaloosa coat on shiny metal.

“Policemen won’t be too long to arrive. ‘Hid my face but they chased me down all the way from Flatneck Station.” He informed you, voice calmer and shoulders less tensed.

“What the Hell were you doing there?”

“Robbin’ a train.” He replied with a cocky grin, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“More like slaughterin’ a train, uh?”

“Smart mouth.” He retorted, amused by your remark. “Too many of ‘em bastards had irritated me.”

“And how much did you get exactly?”

“Seven hundred.” His smirk widened as he patted his satchel, which was probably full of stolen money.

“Damn, Arthur! All by yourself? You never cease to impress me.”

His eyes wrinkled in a genuine smile, a rare sight. He didn’t add anything, silence enveloping both of you, as often in his company. But you knew he had loved your praise. 

Arthur casually sat on one of the chairs behind you, legs open to be more comfortable, and took his guns out of his holster, as relaxed as if he had sat to draw in his journal.

He knew the Law had absolutely no proof against him, and that you were charming enough to lead them up the garden path as easily as if they were children. 

As he had planned, two terribly worn-out lawmen arrived, clothes soiled and face tired. It looked like they didn’t have the time to take a good bath contrary to your companion, probably interrogating the whole town before arriving here. One of them, the shorter of the two, climbed up the wooden stair treads and spoke.

“Sir, Missus. We’re searching for a dangerous criminal. He has been described by several witnesses as a tall man with broad shoulders, brown hair, blue eyes, and a black leathered hat…” His words slowed down and turned into a whisper at the end of his sentence, lost in the air, as his gaze landed on Arthur. His eyes narrowed realizing he matched the description perfectly.

“Oh, I’m really sorry, officer, we haven’t seen anyone like this…” You said with your most angelic smile, your body turning politely from the fence to face the policeman.

You were now standing right next to Arthur who didn’t look bothered at all. 

All the contrary, he had given a simple salute by nodding his head to the man, the tip of his hat shaking nonchalantly in his direction, and had begun cleaning his guns, blood visible like porcelain dipped in a vibrant red paint.

The officer frowned, clearly not convinced.

“You, where were you-

“Him? He was with me all day officer."

He does not believe you. Yet. You took his arched eyebrow as a personal invitation to give him a good show:

"To tell you the truth, we’re on our honeymoon here, so we took the time to enjoy our day together…”

While speaking, you put a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, to emphasize your words, to look convincing. But you would have lied to yourself telling you weren’t appreciating this, fingers caressing his muscles through the thick jacket, traveling innocently to his neck where you brushed the base of his hair, just underneath his hat, pampering him as if he was a cat.

And Arthur? He had the biggest shit-eating grin you've ever seen on his face. He loved it, the pure audacity of it all, your teasing touch on the back of his head, his own hands busy with his guns, oil and piece of fabric wiping the fresh remnants from his killing spree of a few hours ago, in the most carefree way possible, all of it under the Law’s nose.

A rush of adrenaline spread through him, tingling and warming his body. He tried to fight his own blood from gathering more and more between his legs, but after all, looking all giddy would just make it all more convincing, right?

“But this man really looks like…” The policeman tried to object, before being cut by you once again.

“Officer, I assure you we was here all day…” You asserted, honeyed voice soft to the ears, eyes as innocent as a dove.

“Oh, except for this morning though, we was out. We tried this really special spot, you know? The one in the mountains, where you can bathe in these hot springs… We had a good time there, didn’t we, honey?” You fibbed with perfection, adding even more details to your tapestry of lies.

The hand you had on Arthur slowly pushed his head against your chest, his face ending up cheek against your cleavage. His devilish smirk almost cracked from widening, and the tip of his ears got all red and hot. You could feel it against your skin, both of you relishing in your juvenile, corny lovers play.

Inside, he felt like he was on top of the World right now.

“Yes baby, ‘t was definitely a good time…” Arthur agreed, playful eyes adverting from his revolvers to look at yours from down there, his slightly crooked teeth visible through his gigantic grin.

“A-arlight, I erm…” The lawman coughed, visibly uncomfortable because of your behavior and finally convinced by your pretty little speech. “I’ll leave you to… To "it" then. Good evening Sir, Ma’am.”

He walked back to his colleague who had smoked a cigarette while waiting for him. Arthur and you kept on playing your naive role until both of them were far enough, the last echo of their conversation sounding exceedingly comical into your ears:

“Shit, we lost this asshole…”

 “Told you this couldn’t be him. Who would be stupid enough to strut around right next to the sheriff’s office?”

Yeah, who would be, uh?

You giggled a bit, eyes still locked on the stupid man in question. He hadn’t stopped smiling the whole time, a low chuckle shaking his chest, joining yours.

“This was a close one. You’re getting more and more reckless…” You warned him gently, hand still wrapped around his head.

“But you, on the other hand, are a brilliant actor, darlin’.” He added, his deep voice showing a hint of amusement and mischief. “And you're getting bolder too. A honeymoon, really?”

“The damn bastard wouldn't let it go…” You shrugged with an innocent smile.

It looks like he was comfortable like this because he wasn’t making any effort to pull away from your soft flesh. All the contrary, a sneaky arm curled up around your waist, pushing you onto his lap, his guns and the piece of fabric ending up on top of your thighs.

“Ya know, alibis are fun an’ all but… Maybe we could have a good time for real, sometimes.” He whispered in your ear, big hands handling you gently, one resting on your legs, the other holding your back.

“Yeah? You tired of lying, Arthur?”

“Am tired of doin’ nothin’ while havin’ the most gorgeous woman in town pretendin’ to be my wife…” His thumb slowly strokes your thighs while answering in a low, passionate tone.

This wasn’t just pretty lies anymore. His voice wasn’t joking, it was filled with desire; his hands warm and demanding on your body.

“Mmh… I see… Maybe we could actually book a room here for the night then…” You answered in the same quiet register, betraying your own needs.

One of your hands grabbed his guns, the other the blackened piece of fabric damped with oil, and you finished cleaning up his revolvers for him, fingers delicate and attentive.

His eyes are locked on your hands and their movement, completely hypnotized by them, his ears turning entirely red, this sanguine color spreading less and less subtly on his face and chest too.

You can't help but notice the hardness growing between his legs, pressing under your body. 

And he can't wait for the moment when this won’t be the barrel of his gun you'd be holding and caressing between your hands…

“Sounds pretty good to me, “Missus Morgan”.”