#also no matter what i did i could not cover up that stray bit of collar in the second picture so i just said fuck it

[dilfsisko]

(Image ID: Two images of Hawkeye Pierce from the series MASH. In the first picture has been edited so he is wearing a medical uniform from Star Trek: The Original Series. The second image has been edited so he is wearing a medicul uniform from Star Trek: Deep Space Nine. /end ID)

heehee hoo hoo mashtrek time

[jeonginslefthand]

More please ♡🩸

Pairing: Vampire!BangChan x Reader Genre: Suggestive (18+. minors/ageless blogs do not interact <3)/Thriller Word count: 2.0k+ Summary: You caught Chan in the middle of his midnight activities, marking the start of an unexpected relationship.  Warnings: Kidnapping mentioned, force feeding, grinding, biting, blood (lots of it), implications of depression A/N: Railway MV has made me feral and I had an idea. Also hope writing this will cure my writer's block for the San series cause I'm struggling rn. This is more of a drabble and [mostly] proofread. Hope y'all enjoy 🫶 Stray kids masterlist

~~~

“I need more~”

It hurts when Chan bites into your neck. You expected some pain, but not a pain like this. It stings and there’s an ache you can’t begin to describe. But it feels somewhat arousing. Chan on top breathing heavily as he is sucking the life out of you makes you feel something in your core. You forget for a moment that his teeth are sunk in your veins as the agonizing pain turns into pleasure. 

It’s hard to say how you got here in the first place. You and Chan had been acquainted since he moved to your neighborhood a few years ago. Nothing he did ever tipped you off that he could be hiding this secret. And Chan had been careful to keep this secret too. Surviving off animal blood, only feasting on human flesh when he needs to. He was sure he would never get caught. Until last night when you decided to take the shortcut path on your nightly walk and stumbled upon the area where Chan does his bidding. You were frozen in fear unsure what to do as Chan looked at you. So he did what any vampire in hiding would. He took you back to his hideout away from the world until he could figure out his next move. 

And here you are, under him as he’s making up for his interrupted midnight snack. By now he feels he sufficiently made up for the interruption and slowly removes his teeth from your neck. You feel that stinging pain again and feel a bit faintish. You see out the corner of your eye blood dripping from the two fresh holes. Gross yet arousing at the same time. Chan notices and licks up the excess blood as if he wants to savor your taste. You feel another jolt of pain, but Chan massaging the area with his tongue helps to ease the pain and turns it into more pleasure. 

“Your blood tastes so sweet~” Chan growls as he licks the remaining blood and pulls away from you. “I swear I could drink this forever.” 

It sure felt like he was going on forever. You even forgot that he did kidnap you and that the bodies of his previous victims surrounded you. Coming back to reality the fear returns to you wondering if that is your fate. 

“C-Chan… I promise I won’t tell anyone about this. A-and you can have all the blood you want just please let me go.” You mutter out on the verge of tears. 

“Oh I will have all the blood I want, 'cause you’re not leaving here,” Chan responds smiling, baring his sharp teeth now covered in blood. You flinch for a moment thinking he’s going back in for seconds. Chan notices and chuckles in response. 

“Don’t worry dear, I won’t hurt you more than I need to. It would be a shame if you died on me.”

~~~

Despite the situation, Chan is pretty gentle with you. Aside from the blood-sucking sessions, he makes sure you’re well taken care of. You find out that the place you’ve been taken to was a castle, somewhere far off in the mountains. You slowly fall in love with the gothic architecture exploring a new room each day. You even have your room, decorated head to toe in the dark gothic aesthetic with a soft queen-sized bed made just for you. 

Chan cooks for you every night. At first, you refused to eat the meals, still in fear of what he could do and barely working up an appetite. After a few days of the act, Chan got annoyed and one day took matters into his own hands. 

“Come on sweetie, if you don’t eat your blood won’t pump properly and you’ll be weak.” Chan calmly says as he forces a piece of chicken into your mouth. You try your hardest to resist but his vampire strength overpowers you. Tears well up in your eyes and fall on your plate. You want to spit the chicken out but you can’t bring yourself to it as Chan stares at you intensely, wiping the tears away from your cheek. 

“Aww don’t cry. It’s okay, you’re okay. The chicken tastes good right?” Chan coos and you nod in response. 

“Good. Then swallow~” Chan commands.

You hesitate for a moment but reluctantly swallow. The chicken wasn’t bad, but you still feel a lump in your throat. You want your body to reject the food so badly but you also hadn’t eaten for days and knew that eventually you would have to give in. 

Chan feeds you the rest of the chicken and side dishes. This was the only way you were going to eat for that night, still in fear that he could do much worse. After that day you stopped refusing to eat knowing that Chan wouldn’t hesitate to force-feed you again. You two started having somewhat normal dinners. Chan would talk about his day and sometimes the drama going on at his day job and you would talk about the room you explored that day and your thoughts. Sometimes he would talk about his past life, his experiences, and what it was like being the way he is. These deeper talks made you more intrigued about him. He was slowly peeling back layers revealing his true nature, showing there was some humanity left in those eyes. 

~~~ 

Of course, Chan would still get a taste of your blood now and then. Biting in the same spot, careful not to take too much that you faint, but enough to keep him satisfied for a few weeks. You got used to the pain and a part of you almost looked forward to these sessions. The pure ecstasy you felt with Chan on top and pressed against you as you were helpless under him, you almost didn’t want him to stop. You wanted more from him. 

One time you decided to make a bold request to Chan at dinner.

“I want you to suck my blood tonight,” you stated clearly. Chan nearly chokes on his food shocked that you’re taking the initiative this time. 

“Y/N, I appreciate the offer and you know I would love that. But I’m fine it’s only been a week.” Chan responds.  

“But I want you to! I need that feeling of you sinking your teeth into me. It’s addicting and I want more of it!” 

Chan gets up and walks over to your seat and leans towards you. 

“I have a better idea sweetie~,” Chan says. 

“And what is that?” you respond, desperate for him to do something. Anything.

Chan leans in closer and presses his lips into yours. You don’t hesitate to reciprocate kissing him back. The same feeling of desire is felt between both of you, but more intense than when Chan is stealing your blood. Eventually, you stand up and push him on the table (well, more like he lets you) kissing him deeper and with a passion you’ve never felt. The air feels warm around you, savoring Chan’s taste while your mind’s on cloud 9. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t fantasized about this. Wondering what his lips would feel like in other areas of your body besides the sensitive vein of your neck. 

The burning desire in your core doesn’t settle down and you instinctively grind on Chan’s thigh to get some kind of relief. Chan doesn’t notice drunk on his desire for you, but eventually, he pulls away and places his hands on your hips. 

“Feeling a bit needy today I see~” Chan teases. 

“Oh you have no idea,” you say shakily, catching your breath.

Chan starts to respond with a witty joke but you sink back into his lips before he responds. You kiss him harder than the first time and the desire builds up in your core harder. The room feels it’s on fire as you and Chan feel each other’s hot breaths and as you continue to grind his thigh. Chan gets so lost in your soft moans that he doesn’t notice his fangs grazing your bottom lip. He presses on your lips harder and his fangs accidentally sink into your lip as you yelp in pain. Shocked by your scream, Chan quickly pulls away from you, but also accidentally knocks over a plate in the process remember that the two of you were making out on the dinner table. 

“Oh my god Y/N I’m so sorry!” Chan says concerned, caressing your lip. The blood quickly drips down from your mouth covering the lower half of your face. 

“Chan I’m fine! It didn’t hurt but it was shocking. Maybe… warn me next time,” you respond with a witty tone. 

“Funny. But still, don’t want you to lose too much blood.” Chan leans towards your lips again and starts licking up the blood starting from your chin and ending with your bottom lip. He passionately licks every last drop like it’s the last he’ll ever get your blood. 

“Say… why don’t we continue this somewhere else,” Chan suggests as he pulls away from you. You look at him hazy with lust and out of the corner of your eye notice a certain desire growing in his pants.

“I think that’s a great idea love~”     

~~~

After that erotic night, it felt like time slowed down living with Chan. You’ve lost count of how long you’ve been here. Maybe a couple of months? A little under a year? In your mind, you knew you had to go back to your old life, back to your friends and family. They have probably been looking for you. But in your heart, you didn’t care. Nothing in your life mattered anymore except Chan and his twisted love for you. You would give anything to be with him, to stay with him forever. 

One night as the two of you cuddled in bed, you suddenly brought up another proposition. 

“Channie, do you think you can… turn me into a vampire?” you ask suddenly. 

“W-what?!” Chan says, taken aback. 

“I-It’s just an idea. I’ve seen it done a lot in vampire shows. But knowing what I know about you now I don’t know how accurate that is. And I realize that you’re the only one I want to be with for a long time and it would suck dying knowing you would still live on forever…” 

Chan is silent processing your request. You give him some time and then follow up with your statement.

“It’s okay if you can’t and I’m probably overthinking this. That’s so far ahead of us and I’m happy spending whatever time we have. I just love you so much and—”

“No no, I can turn you. It’s possible but… are you sure you want this?” Chan says cutting you off. “It’s a dangerous path to take. The constant bloodlust is not easy to control. And there are many days that there will be a numbing feeling you can’t get rid of. Constantly feeling empty and at some point feeling like life isn’t worth it is not something I want for you.”

“I don’t care if I spend the rest of my days hating the world. As long as I’m with you I won’t feel empty. Doesn’t matter if that’s 10 years or the next 1000 years, life with you will always have meaning!” 

Another moment of silence passes and Chan pulls you into his chest. He starts stroking your hair as he responds.

“There’s no talking you out of this is there?” Chan sighs. 

You giggle into his chest. “I’d do anything to be with you for as long as I can!~” 

Chan kisses your forehead. “Then, enjoy your last night being human love~”

You fall asleep into Chan’s arm as he drifts off to sleep. Who knew what the next years would look like for the two of you? You dream of all the potential adventures you two would go on, the lives you would live. It would be chaotic and messy, but that didn’t matter to you. In the end, you can call the man you once feared yours and you were his. And you couldn’t want anything more.

~~~

If you liked this leave a like, reblog, and/or comment! I appreciate it and thanks for reading!

[ihavethedreamies]

Only You | Bang Chan

Bang Chan - Stray Kids

Rating: M (18+) MDNI

Word Count: ~4.6k

Pairing: King! Bang Chan x Noble! AFAB! Reader

Genre: Historical AU!, Joseon Era, Reader-Insert, Fluff, Smut, Some Plot, Strangers-to-Married

!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!

Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Swearing, Kissing, Oral (F! Receiving), Fingering, First Times (Readers), Breeding Kink (a bit), Unprotected Sex (This is pre-birth control so…), Big Dick! Chan (duh)

Summary: You are a nobleman's daughter and your father is struggling to find you a husband. The king refuses to marry all of the women brought to him and will not take any concubines. You end up meeting each other.

Author's Note: Oh boy! Here is the first part my dudes. I wanted to have this out sooner but I'm living with my uncle with my parents right now and so I don't have the same freedom to hole away in my room all day like I would prefer. Also can't really write smut in the living room with your dad like two seats away from you.

At the bottom I will have a guide for all the untranslated words I use, most of which are to do with the clothing they wear.

P.S. I only need to write the smut part for Lee Know's and Changbin's parts right now and then I can do the others after. Hopefully I will have one if not both of those up tomorrow. Hopefully.

Also, if any of my historical information/words are inaccurate, I apologize, I did the best with what research I could and what I know from watching too many historical K-Dramas.

-> Series Hub <-

-> Lee Know's <-

Let me know if you want to be on the taglist!

I am cross-posting this on Archive and Wattpad. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on here my name and icon are exactly the same on the other sites. Happy reading!

Sighing deeply for a third time, you lazily turned the page of your book, head tilting to rest on your shoulder. Your braid fell over your shoulder, the purple daenggi draping down and covering the characters in the book. Didn't matter, you weren't really reading it anyway. Already had several times. It was nearly impossible to get books you hadn't already read several times, or things that were actually interesting to you, because your father wouldn't let you get them. Most of the books not directed toward women that you had, you more or less smuggled into your house. Because of that, it was hard to get more, and so you were once again bored with your choices. A delicate breeze wafted in through the open window, a small bird flittering down to rest on the sill. You looked over its various shades of brown feathers and you wondered if you could ever get a book for studying birds. Probably possible, but not probable. Men don't want women that know more than them, that's why you can't keep a suitor. Your father's voice echoed in your head, and you rolled your eyes. Unfortunately, though, it seemed he was right. You had many suitors out of the sons of noblemen, but none of them stayed around too long when your conversations turned from dainty and feminine matters to things that actually made them think. Looking out to the sky, you wondered if there was anyone out there at all that wouldn't mind your learned state.

 ~~~

On a day you were actually able to go out, you were grateful it was your brother who could go with you. You both were wandering the various seller's stands and storefronts, only just glancing at most things. If you had a guard escorting you, you wouldn't be able to smuggle another book home, but your brother would help you. As you pretended to look over various different earrings, you cast a glance from under your sseugaechima to where your brother was at the book seller. Rummaging through what they had, he held a few up to look closer at the contents before putting them back down. Must all be fiction… Looking back at the wares before you, you nodded to the shopkeeper and moved on, instead looking at some shoes. You were closer then to your brother, enough that you could see when he held a book up toward you, pretending to rest it on his shoulder as he continued looking, like he was reserving it. When you caught his side glance, you shook your head no. Already had it. He sniffed, putting it back, and kept looking. As you moved on yourself, across the way, you watched a young nobleman sidle up next to your brother. He was a great deal shorter; it almost made you giggle, but you tried to remain inconspicuous.

"Oh, my lord, the book you were looking for arrived!" The book seller slipped inside his shop, coming back with a book you had never seen anything like before.

"I managed to get in contact with the Arab trader and he got it here all the way from the far west!" The book seller smiled wide, and you had fully turned around at that point, your brother looking over his shoulder at you.

"Thank you." The man smiled, handing over a significant string of mun before turning to leave. You weren't able to react fast enough, and he caught you looking at him. Well, not him, but the book he was holding. It was bound in what looked like leather and you had never seen writing like it.

"Wait, my lord, this as well!" The shopkeeper reached under his stall and the man went back, taking the locally bound book from him.

"Might be hard to read without the translation." The young lord smiled and then went to leave again, pointedly looking right at you as he did, a small smirk on his face.

"Let's follow him." You whispered to your brother, yanking him down to your level.

"Are you sure? He paid a lot for that, he's not just going to give it to you, and we don't have that kind of money on us."

"I just want to look at it, come on." You hissed out, following after the man before he got too far out of view. You heard your brother sigh dramatically, but he hurried after you anyway, making sure he didn't lose sight of you.

You finally managed to catch up with the man in a small courtyard behind a restaurant not yet open. He was standing at the edge of the stream, watching it, the two books held in his grasp as he rested his arms behind his back. Right as your brother caught up with you, the man turned around, a playful smile on his face. It was then you realized how gorgeous he was.

"Interested in this?" He turned toward you, holding the book up, and in your excitement, you dropped your sseugaechima, the garment fluttering to the ground.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, grabbing the head covering. You had moved so fast, you were already standing in front of the man, ogling the book. Even though he was probably four or even five chon shorter than your brother, he was still nearly a head taller than you.

"Aigo, put this back on." Your brother draped the garment back over your head, dragging you back by the shoulders a few steps.

"Wait!" You reached for the book, not having gotten to touch it, but your brother stepped in front of you. Stupid societal chauvinism.

"Apologies, my lord, but she's…intense about her hobby." You rolled your eyes behind your sibling.

"This isn't a normal book." The other man said, and you rolled your eyes harder. Obviously, that's why you wanted it!

"It's all the way from Dogil." Huh? Where?

"If she wants to look at it, she can." You shoved your brother out of the way, so hard he not just stumbled, but fell on his butt. The man held the book out to you and with shaky hands you took it. The text was so incredibly foreign, and when you flipped the book open, it didn't even look handwritten. Then again, you couldn't be sure since it was such a foreign script. Little symbols sat in the top corner of each page, and the words were horizontal rather than vertical. Each little letter was so small, the book cramped with lines. It was heavy too.

"This goes with it." The other man held the translation book up and snatched it from his hands without thinking.

"(Y/N)!" Your brother scolded, hurrying to get off the ground.

"She's fine." You moved toward a bench and sat down, opening the translation on top of the foreign text. Though, it wasn't a direct translation, just a catalog of what each word meant. It would take time to fully translate it.

"C-could I translate it fully?" You looked up at the man, your sseugaechima falling off your head again. He smiled and your heart skipped a beat, but you weren't sure if it was because he smiled, or what the smile meant.

"I would rather not just give it to you. What if you don't give it back?" His tone was slightly teasing. You deflated then and he held back a chuckle.

"You know, I have a lot of far western texts that I don't have the time to translate myself. You could come to my home and do it for me?"

"Wait-" Your brother's tone grew stern and you looked between them, the other man holding his hand up to stop the other's words.

"Rather improper I know. Though, the King can get away with quite a bit." The man was smirking, and your eyes widened. What?

"Y-You're-" You met your brother's gaze and you both fell to your knees before him, bowing so your foreheads touched your hands. Immediately, you realized how brazen your actions were. You were doomed.

"Don't worry about it." He waved you both off and you stood, head still bowed, avoiding looking at his face. Instead, you glanced back at the books. You wondered if the book seller even realized who he was. Your brother sat up, but remained on one knee, if he stood, he would be higher than the king. That was not allowed.

"What is your name? Who is your father?" He asked and you swallowed hard, trying to get words out. You spoke your name and family clan, as well as your father's name and rank. If he told your father about what happened, you would never be allowed to touch another book.

"Your age?

"Twenty-two."

"You're unmarried?" He raised a brow, and you nodded sheepishly. Reaching around your back to tug on the end of your braid, hanging down to signify your marital status.

"Your name?" He nodded to your brother, and he told him.

"Well, if you wouldn't mind showing me to your home. I would like to converse with your father." Oh, no.

~~~

Nervously pacing around your room, even down the halls through the building of the estate you inhabited, you wondered what was happening. You had scurried away like a scared mouse once you all returned to your home, looking behind you to the books held by the King. The King! Geez, you felt like you just escaped with your life. You heard your mother being summoned to go to your father and it had been nearly an hour of them talking.

"(Y/N)." You heard a whisper from outside your bedroom window as you wandered around it. You opened the shutters and your brother's head barely could look over the sill from where he stood on the narrow edge of the building's platform base.

"What's happening?" You whispered back.

"A servant just brought them our family registry."

"What?" Why the heck would they need that?! Unless…

"You think he's going to court me?" Your legs felt week, you weren't sure what to make of it. Your father had desperately wanted you married, but not enough to submit you to the palace. A life of luxury and prestige wasn't actually very safe. Most adversaries tended to target the women closest to the king since they were easier targets. You knew the King was unwed, and that the palace officials were just as fed up with him as your father was with you. Sure, you would rather marry someone for love, but that was hard to do as a noble. But if you did…that meant you could have access to the King's library. Was that his plan to let you translate his foreign books without it being improper? Honestly, you were fine with it. It was a once in a lifetime opportunity. If marrying the king gave you access to even more knowledge and learning, than you would happily do it.

~~~

After the long meeting, the King left, and your mother came to inform you of the results. You were right, he wanted you to be his wife. But marrying a king to be the queen was much more intense than just being a concubine. Sure, the king had a lot of say, but so did his ministers and the Queen Dowager, his mother. Normally there was a long selection process, but instead you were brought to the palace and thoroughly analyzed by palace officials. They interviewed you rather extensively, then finally, his mother entered. After more questions, she left with the officials and you were left to sit in the pavilion, looking at the water, uncomfortable in your nicest hanbok ensemble. All of your fanciest accessories were in your hair, on your goreum was a heavy norigae, and heavy jade earrings sat in your ears. You twisted the jade ring on your finger in nervousness, feeling like you were waiting for hours. Soon though, the Queen Dowager reentered along with a few handmaidens and a eunuch. You had been approved of.

~~~

A grand dowry was sent to your family's estate, and in return your belongings were sent in as well. You were moved into a palace set aside for the future queen, and you were beyond grateful that your chest of books made it to your new home. Waiting for the actual ceremony and coronation, you were put through hours of etiquette training and lessons. Over the short time it took for you to learn everything, and have the ceremony and coronation performed, the King had spent a considerable amount of time with you. Every minute he could spare. He didn't want you, nor himself, to marry a stranger. Never having been in love, you were sure your feelings were either quite similar if not the predecessor for love. In a fleeting whisper he told you his name was Chan, of course it was part of his birth name rather than what he was crowned king with. He preferred you call him that though, even if you only could in private. When he could, he would bring a few of his foreign books for you to look at, but he said there wasn't time for you start the translations before all of the ceremonies. Chan seemed just as passionate about knowledge as you were, and that made you fall harder. And it appeared to work that way for him as well.

The day before the wedding, as he left before the time was improper, he pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of your mouth with his soft lips. Your face blossomed red you were sure, and he chuckled gently to himself as he left.

The wedding itself was…a mess. Well, figuratively and only to you. You felt like you were being directed as a puppet going through so many specific rites and rituals. The most nerve-wracking part of the whole thing was being before so many people. Your tutor was proud you had learned all of your etiquette so well and you were ninety percent sure you did everything just right. By the time night fell, you were beyond exhausted. You weren't sure if you were more excited about your marriage, which felt more real thanks to your blooming feelings, or the future translation work. It was nice though that your love of scholarly pursuits didn't turn him away like all of your other potential suitors.

Finally, though, everything was more or less complete. You were wandering through the large room of the king's quarters, everything even fancier than where you had been. You picked at the white fabric of your sokchima, feeling naked despite being completely covered. Your hair was still in a chignon, the golden decorative binyeo holding it up made your head feel heavy. It was strange to have your hair up like that, but you were going to have to get used to it. For some reason, it felt nice to have that weight, signifying you were married, you honestly didn't want to take it out as much as you did. So, it stayed. You had bathed, rather, been washed by maids before going to the king's quarters. You presumed he too was washing up, and the longer he took, the more nervous you got. Finally, the side door that led further into the palace where the bath hall was, opened. Your heart thudded against your rib cage as you saw the King enter, also in white garments. He no longer had his headdress on, only the manggeon he wore under his crown was there. You wondered how long his hair was when down.

"My Queen." He smiled and you bit your lip, looking around almost like you were checking to see if anyone was around.

"What are you looking for, (Y/N)?" He stepped closer, hand going to your chin, tilting your head up to look at him. All the lessons that had been drilled into you made you want to look away, but if he was okay with it…

"We're really alone?" Not even his Eunuch was there, he followed him everywhere as per his job description.

"Yes, my love." Your breath hitched, the term of affection hitting your heart, and you stepped just a bit closer.

"W-we-" He stepped once more, his lips placing a delicate peck on your forehead. Still not able to get any words out, his kisses moved to your cheekbone, the side of your mouth, then his hand cupped your jaw, tipping your head up. Your eyes met his and you couldn't keep yours from flitting to his lips. Chan smirked, and you gasped as he kissed you, hard. Your teeth clacked against each other at the force and your head swam, trying desperately to match his pace. You hadn't been kissed before, not like that. Chan himself had given you a few small pecks, but this was different. He was claiming you.

His strong hands gripped your waist, one sneaking down your back to pull you closer, the other sneaking up the ties of your sokchima. The hand on your back went even lower, gripping the flesh of your butt and you huffed, Chan's tongue sneaking its way in your mouth. When he withdrew, you heaved in breaths, heart racing and with a final tug, your sokchima fell to the floor, leaving you bare. You shivered, goosebumps rising on your skin, but his next actions distracted you from the embarrassment of being bare. He undid the ties of his own garments and as the white fabric pooled at his feet, your eyes rapidly danced over him. You were convinced he was molded directly by the deity of sex, because he was gorgeous.

"Oh." You sighed and he huffed a laugh, moving closer, taking your hands in his, and bringing them to the ties of his sokbaji. Your hands brushed over him through the cloth, and you froze.

"A-are you…?"

"No, love. But," his hands ran over the bare skin of your back, pulling you to him, your naked breasts pressing to him.

"I'll get there." Chan whispered in your ear, then he ran his tongue around the ridge, sucking on your earlobe. You whimpered, turning your head to allow him access, fingers clenching the hem on his pants. His lips then moved to your neck, laying searing kisses on the flesh, strong fingers digging into your skin, and when you were pulled even closer, you felt his cock hardening in his pants.

"Come with me, my love." He pulled away and you pouted in disappointment, making him laugh. The room spun as he yanked you to him, lightly shoving you on the raised bed. You huffed, then squeaked when he grabbed your ankles, yanking to the edge of the platform, kneeling on the floor below.

"W-Wait, Chan-!" You tried to close your legs, hide yourself from him, but he was too strong, his hands gripping your thighs to keep them spread.

"So cute." He hummed and your entire body jerked, back arching as you felt his tongue swipe through your folds, the sensation almost overwhelming. It was hard to get words out since you could barely take in air, your body immediately catching on fire, blood boiling. You heard him hum as he tasted you, and you flinched when his nose brushed your clit.

"C-Chan, it's too much!" You shuddered, not sure how to handle the sensation.

"I need to get you ready, love, I don't want to hurt you." He finished his statement by wiggling his tongue inside you. The foreign sensation made you clench, and he rubbed your tense thighs with his thumbs.

"Relax, pretty girl." You tried to do as he asked, taking measured breaths, whimpering when his tongue left you, flicking your button again. Heat pooled in your belly, rising fast and you logically knew what was coming, but had never felt it before.

"I-I…fuck!" Your head tossed back, and he groaned at the crass word leaving you. Chan kissed your clit and that sent you over the edge, wind roaring in your ears with your pulse, and you barely registered him filling you with a finger.

"You're so fucking tight sweetheart." The curse word riled you up more than it even did when you said it for him. He helped your ride out the orgasm with that finger, each press against your back wall seeming to draw out your climax. Finally, the waves dulled, then stopped, and you finally recognized his finger inside you. Because he did it when he did, it didn't hurt, but it felt weird.

"Oh, you're so good." He smiled wide, his normal warn grin was hot with lust. You mewled when he started to pump his finger, the wet squelch of your slick and release seemed to be louder than anything else.

"That got you nice and wet for me, but you're too tight." His thumb barely brushed your clit and your pussy clenched, body jerking again, it almost hurt.

"Sorry, love." He continued with the single digit and at some point, he decided to continue and you let out a shuddering breath when he added a second. That…didn't hurt per se, the slight burn of the stretch was somehow more pleasurable than painful, and you wondered how much his dick would make you sting.

"Oh, oh my." You tried to hold back a whiny moan when his fingers wiggled and spread, getting you further prepared, the same pleasurable feeling starting to build back.

"Ah!" Chan added a third finger, and you lifted your head to look at him, one knee resting on the bed so he could kneel over you. Eyes flitting down, you noticed the tent in his white pants, and you swallowed hard. You didn't have any metric to go by since you had never been with or even seen a man naked, but-

"That won't fit." You whimpered, not even seeing him bare yet. Chan huffed a surprised laugh, looking at himself.

"I promise it will." His fingers crooked up again, hitting some intense spot inside you and you shivered at the sudden intensity.

"N-no, no, no!" You whined when he removed his fingers, the pleasure had begun to crest and even if it was overwhelming, it did feel good.

"Hold on, love, I'll fill you back up." You propped on your elbows to watch him, the tie of his sokbaji coming undone by his fingers, then the garment fell. Nope. Nuh-uh. Not gonna happen.

"Won't fit." You gasped out and he had a hard time controlling his smug grin.

"Let's see about that." He scooped you up in his arms, moving you up the bed so your head could rest on the pillow. The cool silk of the bedding did nothing to quell the fire Chan had set on your skin, especially not when he propped himself over you.

"I love you." He leaned down, nose rubbing over yours and you giggled at the innocent gesture.

"I love you too." Your hands cupped his face, and he kissed you again, gentler than the first. Distracting you with the kiss, he hitched one of your knees over his elbow, his free arm bringing his hands back to your slick cunt. His fingers ran through your arousal, then he pumped his fist over his hard cock, bringing the fat head to your entrance. Chan pulled back from the kiss, bringing your hands up to his shoulders.

"Dig your nails in if you have to." You should have taken it as a warning, not really sure what he meant. When his cock breached your core, the heated burn seared through not just your cunt, but all the way through you. Your back arched, and your mouth hung open in a quiet scream. You couldn't tell whether it hurt or was such an intense pleasure your body malfunctioned. His cock pressed deeper, and you could feel his pulse inside you.

"So tight, fuck, hmm, love your just perfect." He groaned, relishing the sting of your nails digging into his skin. After what felt like an eternity, he bottomed out, the head of his dick kissing your womb.

"Y-you're in my throat." You gasped, trying not to clench around him too much, cunt stinging but weeping, a drop of your slick hitting the bedding.

"Does it hurt?" His hand brushed some sweat-dampened strands of hair from your brow, and you shuddered through some breaths.

"I-I don't know." You had never felt anything like it before, obviously, and your brain seemed to be stopping and starting again over and over. He was being so patient, letting you adjust, but he shifted his weight differently, changing the angle slightly and the sting faded, pleasure rising, and you couldn't get words out again. He must have noticed the change in your gummy walls' pulsing, because he grinded into you slightly and, stronger than before, you came.

"Woah." Chan forced himself to breathe through your orgasm, the tight vice of your pussy nearly sending him over the edge and gushes of your slick shined on your skin as well as his. Your vision dotted with stars and your head swam, you finally were able to gasp for air, panting as you returned to reality.

"Are you okay, love?" He stroked your cheek with his thumb, and you held his hand to your face with your own. You nodded, swallowing a buildup of saliva.

"Y-yes, you…you can move."

"Are you sure?"

"Please~!" Your like whimper heightened into a moan as he pulled back just a bit, going slowly back in to make sure it didn't hurt. It didn't. Sure, it felt like he was carving his cock through you, but it was more than good.

"Tell me, sweet, if I hurt you." The next thrust, he pulled back a bit further, and back in harder.

"Please, Chan, you- fuck!" He had picked up the pace just a bit, still going fairly slow, but the stretch of his fat cock was more than enough stimulation.

"D-don't-"

"Don't what, love?"

"Don't…oh, fuck, please, don't stop. Just-!" Your toes curled, throwing your head back, nails digging into the bedding as he pulled out about halfway, then buried inside you hard. He sat up more, slinging your other leg over his elbow as well, rolling his hips against yours. Chan's eyes skated all over you, beautiful and bare below him, and when he got to your face he groaned. Your eyes were hazy, mouth open, drool pooling from the corners of your lips. You had never felt anything even close to the pleasure he was wreaking on you. You couldn't think, and you seemed to lose strength in your body, the crest of another orgasm building.

"Shit- can't hold back anymore love." He grunted and you didn't have enough available thought process to react. He moved his hands to your thighs, pinning your knees up by your shoulders, then he pulled his fat cock out nearly all the way, and started to pound into you. Tears rose in your eyes from the overwhelming feeling, little squeals of delight forced out of you with each thrust and your cunt spasmed. Chan just thundered through your orgasm, not stopping or slowing and your eyes rolled back.

"Fuck, you're just perfect love." He huffed a laugh, "oh, I can't wait to fuck you full!" All you could focus on was the heat of his dick and how much hotter your womb would feel full of his cum.

"Pl-please! Chan, please, fuck!" You gasped, his pace growing unsteady, and he finally fucked as deep as he could, hot ropes of cum filling you and painting your cunt white. Your belly was on fire and a combined glob of both of your releases dripped out from where your bodies met. As Chan panted, looking down at your fucked out state, he smiled.

"You're my wife now, only you."

Daenggi - the ribbon that was tied around a unmarried girl's braid. Sseugaechima - this is the extra-skirt looking garment women would wear over their heads. Mun - Joseon Era Korean currency Chon - historical unit of measurement, close to an inch. Dogil - Korean word for Germany, might not be completely accurate for the time. Hanbok - traditional/historical clothing, most people think of women's dresses, but men's clothes were called this as well. Goreum - the ties that fastened the top of a hanbok. Norigae - accessories that were tied to the goreum of women's handboks Sokchima - basically a dress/skirt like under-garment. Binyeo - the long pin that would hold a woman's bun up, mostly used for married women. Manggeon - the mesh-like headband men wore to hold their hair in place. Sokbaji - pants-like under-garment, mostly worn by women actually…

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Taglist: @huldrelokken, @estella-novella, @astrobebba, @kayleefriedchicken, @rhonnie23, @cassandramrn, @qwonyoung23, @minghaosimp

[mothwingwritings]

Miscommunication

F!Reader X Pickle

Hello everyone! Sorry for the lack of communication. I’ve been doing this or that, working on stuff, surviving summer, you know how it is.

I have been picking away at quite a few fics recently, but I am all over the place so they are all getting worked on/done/edited at different paces. I wrote this lil Pickle fic in the midst of it all. It was born purely from the thought of a yandere licking up your tears that they themself were the cause of, so I picked a guy and ran with that. I chose Picky because my feral mans does NOTrealize how much of a menace he is to you but by God he’s gonna keep on forcing his love on you until one of you dies. :)

18+ ONLY PLEASE!!!

Thank you and enjoy!

WARNINGS: Noncon, forced interaction/cuddling, dacryphilia, miscommunication (if you couldn’t tell by the title), light editing, 18+ only!!!

There were plenty of things Pickle loved about you.

He loved the way you looked. So different from the people of his time, you were distinct in a way all your own. The moment he first laid his eyes upon you he was beseeched by curiosity, your unique appearance adding to the intrigue of your already undeniable beauty and charm. You were smaller, softer, and far more polished than the women he was used to. With glossy well-kept hair and not a mark of dirt or grime upon your body, you appeared to him to be almost glowing. This pure presentation made him feel as if he was beholding some glorious creature from another planet, not a mere human woman. You were definitely something that should be far out of his reach, breathtakingly lovely, but unattainable. Yet somehow here you were, right within his grasp, ripe for his consumption. Having such a gorgeous and otherworldly creature in his vicinity was far too enticing, how could he not be expected to stake his claim?

He loved the way you smelled, though those strange sprays you coated your body with were a bit much for his liking. He preferred your natural scent, the one you always tried to mask for whatever reason, the one that differentiated you from the rest of the herd. He could pick it out from anywhere at any time no matter how far from him you strayed, but it would become especially pungent when you were worked up or excited. He relished those moments, pleased to get a whiff of it through the artificial cover of stinking flowers and fruits. Heady and ambrosial, he would bask in your natural essence, inhaling it deeply as if he were receiving a treat.

He also loved the way you sounded, though your words made no sense to him. All the people that surrounded him seemed to make the same kinds of noises, their lips forming sounds that he was sure held all manner of meaning, but none of it he was privy to. Not that it mattered to him really. Different forms of communication suited him much better than spoken word ever could anyway, and despite the lack of common speech he shared with his new peers, he got by just fine. When Pickle bared his teeth or showed open pleasure, those that were nearby seemed to understand him all the same, so there had never been much need to put thought into their dialogue.

… That was, until he met you. It frustrated him sometimes, when you would speak to him with words he could not comprehend. When you talked with a smile he could assume he did something pleasing, or at the very least you weren’t upset, but when you would frown and raise your voice… What exactly was upsetting you? If it was something he did he wanted to correct it right away, your pretty smile suited you much better than a grumpy frown did. He’d do just about anything to keep it on your face forever, if only he knew the words to say or understood the specific requests you spoke to make that happen. The sounds that spilled from your throat… What praises and admonishments was he missing? What words could he say back to keep you smiling, laughing, happy? He wanted to know, struggled to know, but the language barrier was just too great, leaving him distraught and guessing.

When you spoke to other people (other men particularly) and they understood you perfectly, chuckling and nodding, responding to you in kind… It upset him. Who were they to communicate with you so freely? Who were they to speak with you so openly, when all he could seem to get across was rudimentary ideas and feelings? Even if he loved to hear the cadence of your voice, the lack of understanding and the annoyance these mysterious conversations caused was something he couldn’t quite shake.

But even with all the adoration he felt for you, there was one, and only one, thing he didn’t love about you- your tears.

In his era, cries from your mate meant one of a small handful of things. They were hurt and/or scared, there was a threat nearby and they needed protection, or they simply needed their mates help with something. Regardless of which of these options may have brought on the tears, it was always very easy to figure out what the situation was and for the other party to act accordingly.

But each time you cried was a conundrum. You never seemed to shed just a few tears, throwing your heart into full on wailing at the top of your lungs each time your eyes began to remotely water. Whenever this would occur he would momentarily panic, scooping your perturbed body up to force you against his chest, desperate in his attempt to ascertain a cause of concern that would bring you to this state, one that he could never seem to find. He’d turn your body around this way and that, scouring every inch of you with his eyes and hands to check and see if he could pinpoint any wounds or blood. But while you thrashed and fought as he carried out his inspection, his hands always came back clean, and you never seemed to show particular distress when he pressed down on any given area of your body (save for your more private areas, but you always put up a fuss with those). He’d investigate your surrounding area, prowling for anyone or anything that may have scared you or caused alarm, but found nary a soul or item out of place that could have caused you such distress.

That only left the third option- that you were looking to him for help. But help with what? He had already secured you in the safest place he could find, nestling you far away from any potential threats or creatures that could cause you harm. Though he knew you were not a fan of the dank, malodorous, stone underbelly of the village, it was something you would have to get used to. Keeping you elsewhere was simply too risky. Besides, this area was familiar to him, being not unlike some of the cave dwellings of his old home. And with the pathways being so straightforward and long, he could easily monitor surrounding activity and hide you away should someone show up to cause problems (not that anyone would, most seemed to ignore this place entirely, which was another one of its many appeals).

The paths also snaked deep underground, with exits leading rather far out from the more bustling areas of civilization. It made it easy to hunt and gather, so he had no problems providing you with food, clothing, bedding-anything at all you may need he brought to you, and he was happy to do so. He took honor in being your provider, your lover, your mate.

You were safe, you were cared for, and you were loved by him. He showed it in every way he could, serving and providing in ways that went above and beyond what any other potential partner could do for you. Down here in the depths, he shielded you from all that may have hurt you in your old life. Maybe he didn’t understand your speech, but he could clearly see the toll living with the others above ground was taking on you. Each slump of your shoulder and sigh from your lips was recorded in his memory, the weary look you often wore as you pushed yourself harder than necessary haunted his thoughts until he was pushed into action. Every man whose misplaced comments made you scowl had met a grisly end by his hands, assuring they would never bother you again. Every stress of your old life had been removed, all of the agonies of your previous day to day a thing of the past.

Now the only thing you had to focus on was being a good mate to him- a skill you already excelled at by simply existing. You had no need to be sad, you were perfect, and he was doing all he could to show you this.

So why? Why did you always cry?

Even now as he was buried deep inside of you, the pleasure of feeling you stretch to accommodate his massive size so intense he could barely maintain his sanity, tears continued to spill freely from your eyes.  There was absolutely no reason for them- you were always such a good girl for him, bringing him pleasure and joy he scarcely believed was achievable. If anything you should be proud about how well you take him, about how incredibly good you were making him feel, about how flawless you were as his mate. He loved you, he adored you, he would do any and everything for you, and he planned on doing so until his dying day.

Yet still, you cried.

He couldn’t keep them from happening, and he couldn’t think of any other way to stop them, so the least he could do is try and staunch them for a bit. Holding your face still between his hands, he laved his rough tongue slowly over the apples of your cheeks, passing over your tightly clenched eyes in an attempt to cleanse you of your malaise. Time and time again he lapped at your face like a mother lion cleaning it’s cub, moving from the left cheek to the right cheek in quick succession to drink up as many of your salty tears as he could.

Eventually it seemed to work, or at least it caused your upset sobbing to turn into little more than gentle mewling. Maybe you were just doing this to appease him, or perhaps you were finally sharing in the immense pleasure he had been experiencing, overshadowing whatever negative feelings caused you to cry to begin with. Regardless, the tears were trickling to a standstill, and while they weren’t completely quelled, seeing them diminish caused him to smile brightly. He could consider this a victory.

But as he stared down at your tear stained face, moist and red from a mixture of his saliva and your own upset, he couldn’t deny that there wasn’t a charm to witnessing you in such a state. As he picked up his pace, reaching a particularly sweet spot inside of you, you began to scream out, overcome with the intensity of it all. Once more water seeped into your eyes, and he watched mesmerized as fat tears slid down your face, accompanied by whimpers each time his brutal pacing brushed your core. The way your tears accented your ecstasy, adding to the breath taking view only he would ever have the delight of seeing, he couldn’t find himself hating your cries any longer.

Maybe he had been misguided this whole time, realizing now that this may just be another special attribute of yours. He was starting to understand you better, and felt a fool for being so mistaken for so long. Your cries were unique, acting as a sign of immense happiness, not distress. He laughed slightly at his own blunder, it wouldn’t be the first time he had misunderstood you, but this certainly was the most ridiculous miscommunication.

His smile grew as he thrust into you victoriously, elated at his triumph in unlocking a great mystery about you. This whole time he should have never tried to stop them. From now on, he should try and make you cry more.

[bluejutdae]

best friend Stray Kids saving you (or being saved by you) from a bad date | Hyunjin x you

Chan , Minho, Changbin, Jisung , Felix, Seungmin, Jeongin.

a/n: finally I managed to write the last part of this series, the Hyunjin part! There’s not much “saving” here because I had this dramatic idea in my head and I didn’t want to renounce to it. Enjoy!

The rain outside has been incessant for days, so many that it started to be difficult to recognize the time of the day just by looking at the sky. Everything it’s gray, and you almost forgot about this date. The guy is the cousin of one of your colleagues, and you would have canceled it if only you had a bit more hope. Not on this date, you know it’s gonna end up with you telling the guy it’s not the time for you for a relationship or some other fake excuse, you’ll apologize for wasting his time and the truth is: you do feel sorry for wasting his time, but staying home knowing Hyunjin is probably out there kissing his girlfriend and having fun made you a bit selfish. You ignored him for the last 5 days, after he called you at 2 am and you couldn’t help it but hope it meant something. But what would it mean? You’ll never know, cause you didn’t answer.

Your heartache clings to you like molasses, covers you head to toes, you can feel it under your teeth. You’re so used to it, it doesn’t scare you anymore. But it’s so tiring to wake up everyday and do the same routine: wear your clothes, slip in your shoes, put on your grief, grab your purse. Day after day.

The restaurant you’re having your date at is a nice one, you often order takeout from it. The only downside is that it doesn’t deliver home, so anytime you want its amazing food, you have to get out of your house and come collect it. It’s worth it.

Shivering in your cute top, you nod to something your date just said and reach for the wine glass. You have nothing in common with him, you barely remember his name. Was it Minjoon? Minhyun? Once again something distracts you from the conversation (it’s a monologue, at this point) when you hear your phone chime, signaling a message. And since love is blind, and most days it’s also stupid, you can clearly recognize the tune you use for Hyunjin and Hyunjin only.

You have been ignoring him, but you were sure he didn’t even notice. Ten minutes pass and you’re on the verge of just leaving the date, apologize profusely and go home to cry. The bell on the door chimes as someone enters and, once again not paying attention to the man in front of you, your eyes wanders to look at whoever enters. It could have been a couple grabbing dinner, it could have been parents celebrating their kid’s success, it could have been anyone. But just as love is blind, so is luck. Because it’s Hyunjin who just entered the restaurant, and it’s Hyunjin looking directly at you, eyebrows knit in a frown and a sour expression distorting his lips. You’re frozen in your seat, watching him shaking his head, speaking with a waiter, collecting his dinner and leaving. You can't have him leave like this. Something in your gut is telling you it’s now or never, if you let him go now, you might as well let him go forever. And you’re not ready for that.

In a blur of apologies and confused sentences you leave your share of money on the tablecloth and, grabbing your purse, you flee the restaurant. It doesn’t matter that you left your jacket on the back of your chair, it doesn’t matter that’s it’s pouring outside, it matters only your voice calling his name.

He doesn’t turn, doesn’t stop, keeps on waking under the rain, head down and fast steps. You start doing that awkward running walk, reaching to grab his wrist. This effectively makes him stop, but he looks displeased.

“Why did you leave without saying goodbye?”

“You’re on a date.” He frees himself from your grasp, almost like your touch burns him.

“So?”

“So you’re having dinner with another man. Why would I interrupt?”

“Because you always come say ‘hi’ when you meet me by chance.”

“Not when you’re on a date!” He snips. You’re still both under the rain. For a moment you wonder why he hasn’t insisted on moving under a covering. You haven’t because the cold rain is soothing your nerves, soothing the pain you feel anytime you’re too close to him. Did Icarus feel like this when he was soaring too close to the sun? Did he wish for the rain when the scorching wax burned his skin? Did he love the freedom so much he reveled in the pain, hating it at the same time?

“I never go on dates!”

“Clearly, you do.”

You sigh, “this was my first date in 4 years, Hyune.”

“And I didn’t know you had a date, wanna guess why? Because you ignored me for days!” He uses his free hand to push back the strands of hair that fell on his face, dripping wet.

“I thought you were busy. Last time we talked you were really focused on getting ready to meet your girlfriend. Why would I interrupt that?” He’s baffled, and rightly so. In the past, you had no qualms about texting him at all hours.

“Well, I was focused”, you can hear his mocking tone. When did this transform into a fight? “because I was meeting her to put an end to our relationship, because I realized I’ll never be in love with her because I am crazy in love with you. And I tried to call you because I needed to tell you so, I needed to know I did the right thing. I thought this wasn’t one sided. And yet you ignored me and- fuck” he laughs disheartened. “-and went on a date with another man.”

“I- you, what?” You blink rapidly, drops of rain blurring your sight. “You broke up with her? For…” you can’t say it. You can’t bring yourself to say ‘for me’, because it’d make it real. And it could be the best thing or the worst thing. Or both, at the same time. Did Icarus ever think he’d succeed? Did he ever consider he could fly, escape and be free; or did he -like you- only ever imagined failure in front of him? Was he like you, swimming stroke after stroke towards something, wishing for the best but never thinking it could come true? There’s a certain push that animates the despairings, there’s no fight or flight response. There’s only the pilgrimage towards the unreachable goal.

“For you.”

A beat passes. Another. Another one.

“Since when?”

“Since you held my hand after that nightmare. Since I realized I'm not scared when I’m with you.”

There’s something they don’t tell you about desperation, about wanting something so bad that you can feel it missing from your own body. For weeks, for months, you get used to the longing, the yearning. When you can finally wrap your hands around his shoulder, when you can press your lips against his and hear him utter a soft groan, all that you used to feel transforms into electricity, it runs through your whole body and sets you aflame from the inside. This kind of burning, though? It’s a welcomed feeling.

[jellyfishoreo1206]

Shush (Sebastian Solace x Reader)

Notes: Part Three of Painter and Sebastian on the surface, small bit of angst in the beginning? But it's not really angst. I apologize if Painter really isn't written that often in this little series of mine, little computer needs the attention :(

Anyways, I seriously cherish all of you who read the last ones! I hope you guys have an amazing day and a wonderful sleep :33

Also! Series will be named Slice of Life, it's a bit boring but it fits

Credit for the dividers to @cafekitsune

The distant squeak of a door opening wakes you.

Eyes snapping opening, you hurriedly sat up, glancing around your room to see if anything is out of place. Oh god, oh god what is it? Where is it? Is it a Wall Dweller? God those things can't even leave you alone-! You stopped when you realized you're still in your room, you're still in bed. Wrapped up in blankets. Nothing is coming after you anymore, nothing. Eyes still darting around the room in confused panic, attempting to find anything out of place.

Dresser by the door, your messy desk pushed up against the wall, your coats hanging off the coat hanger in the corner of the room; turning your head, spotting the potted plants growing by the window, the dark sky speckled with shiny lights. You're home, not down underneath the sea anymore.

Letting out a sigh, you slumped down, using your hands to cover your eyes. It's tiring. This has been a routine for several days now; you wake up in the middle of the night to the slightest noise, thinking you're back down in the facility back with Sebastian and Painter scavenging for supplies, attempting to avoid death and survive.

~~~

"Fucking shit-!" You turned too late, a Wall Dweller jumping onto you, the force of it causing you to fall towards the ground. Damnit, you were too busy with the circuit that you didn't hear the damn thing! Its blood-stained claws dangerously close to your throat, your arms pushing back with all the strength you could muster.

Panic swells in your whole entire body, your heartbeat beating loudly in your ears as you struggled to push that damn thing off. But to no avail, its claws were barely touching the column of you neck now.

Tears began pricking at the edge of your eyes, no no no no nononononononononono-! This can't be how it ends, you're so close to your goal-!

~~~

A light knock startles you out of the memory, head snapping up to the door. Did you imagine it? A few seconds passed.

*Knock knock*

Getting out from underneath the covers, you cautiously walked over to the door, slowly opening the door knob as you peeked in through the gap. Only did you open it fully once you saw the tear-stained face of Sebastian, concern written all over your face.

"Seb?" Calling out gently to the man, he looked down at you, a sadness in his eyes. Silently reaching up, you cup the side his face, slowly swiping your thumb underneath one of his eyes to rid of a stray tear. "Seb what's wrong?" He merely nuzzles into the palm of your hand, his eyes shut, a frown tugging at the edges of his mouth. His other hand merely grabs at the your unoccupied hand and intertwines his larger fingers with yours, the third merely resting on your forearm.

A rush of heat flushes across your cheeks, but you quickly pushed that down, scolding yourself. Sebastian needs comfort right now, no need to get flustered. You've done this several times!

But no matter how many times it happens, butterflies still erupt in your stomach.

There has been several instances where you seen Sebastian like this— all rare—where he just couldn't hold in the stress he felt or the amount of nightmares he attempted to endure by himself. So in order to combat that, you suggested something like physical touch, since that was something that helped when you when you were stressed. He rejected it at first, saying something along the lines that he, "wasn't a baby that needs to be consoled whenever it cries". But when it happened again, he went up to you and silently held your hand, eyes purposely avoiding your gaze.

A small frown settles upon your lips, your hand currently intertwined with his giving it a soft squeeze. "You wanna come in?" You whispered, sweeping a stray hair behind his ear fin. Flickering his eyes open, he merely nods, half-lidded eyes looking down at you as he nuzzles deeper into your palm.

~~~

"Careful, don't want the whole entire thing to fall on us.." Dresser pushed to the side, coats laid on your bare bed, your chair missing from your desk; all used to make a cozy blanket cove. Since your bed wasn't big enough for the two of you, this would have to suffice. You even dug around a few old boxes in your closet and found some fairy lights you had, using them to give the inside a feeling of warmth. Pillows large and small and fluffy blankets scattered the inside of the fort, even a few plushies scattered around.

You even went out of your way to grab a few snacks and drinks from the kitchen, said snacks in a little corner of the cove.

"This is stupid." The man remarked, lying down on his back, a good portion of his tail peaking out the entrance of the fort. His head resting his on your stomach as he pops in a piece of dried mango into his mouth, your legs spread out comfortable.

"Shut up, it's not stupid," Using the brush to comb out the small knot in his hair, "-it's genius." That earned a playful scoff from Sebastian, small grins appearing on both your faces. "Oh it so is stupid." He counters, offering a piece of the dried fruit up to your mouth, a quiet thanks slipped out of your mouth before you ate it.

"Shush, none of that." Once his hair was combed and fully free of knots, you began separating his hair into three sections to be braided. Now that you think about it, this kind of feels like a sleepover, the whole blanket fort, the snacks, hell even the braiding.

"What are you smiling about?"

"Just . . . this kind of reminds me of a sleepover." A chuckle leaves your lips right when you're finishing Sebastian's braid, looping the hair tie one last time before letting go, "Done."

Sebastian stays laying in your lap, now looking up at you, an unreadable expression present. You gotta say though, he looks very pretty with his hair up, all his eyes present with a few stray hairs here and there.

". . . I never had a sleepover." He mumbled sitting up, adjusting himself so he was lying down on his stomach, bringing over a pillow to rest his head and upper arms on. His third one looked for your hand, quickly intertwining them once he did. The fluttering feeling came back tenfold, a blush threatening to appear as he peered up at you with those half-lidded eyes.

Quickly brushing it off, you leaned over to the small corner, grabbing a juice with your free hand before leaning back, "Really? Not even as a kid?"

"Nah."

Silence overtook the fort, mulling over a response as you took a swing out of your juice, "Well, we're going to have to fix that now, aren't we?" You smiled broadly at Sebastian, giving a squeeze to your intertwined hands.

Genuine surprise overtook his face, the fins of his ears perked up at your statement, a blue flush flooding his cheeks. "R-Really?"

"Yes, absolutely." Turning on your phone, you took a glance at the date, "How about this, every Friday, we'll make a blanket fort. I'll go out and buy whatever snacks and drinks you want, and we'll put on a movie. Hell, even let Painter join, let them have some fun too." Turning back to him, you grin, "How about it?"

He merely stares in silence, eyes wide as the words process in his mind. "You're . . . really serious about this?"

"Of course, we'll make up some other things you missed out on as well!"

". . . you're so stupid."

"HEY!"

". . . yeah, I like that idea."

Last Part, Next Part

[k0yaz]

hello hi sorry i know your inbox is probably super full rn 😭 but can i request a one-shot of arlecchino comforting female reader while they have a panic attack, preferably without specifying the reason for it if that’s okay <3

burning flame.

Pairings: arlecchino x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, panic attacks, big anxiety wow, it’s a rlly short oneshot sorry, this is off my own experience of what ik of a panic attack so I apologize if what you were hoping for is a little different i hope i covered atleast the fundamentals of it, soft arle yay, symbolism woah, wlw, fluff, not proofread.

A/N: More arlefreaky content yayayayaya this actually turned out really good I’m proud 🕯️

“There you go, breathe.”

Arlecchino’s calloused hand pressed flat against your chest as she whispered to you in hushed tone, heart thudding against your chest so quickly and violently that she could feel it against her hand. Still, she didn’t budge, pushing her hand further up as it grazed the cloth of your shirt along your skin. Your mind still spun as a storm continued to brew up within you, vision all blurry and your surroundings unclear. You begin to question where you were, only able to hear the fervent beats of your pulsing heart and shaky breaths emanating from you.

However, Arlecchino’s hand didn’t budge from your chest, keeping firm despite your intemperate heartbeat pounding so viciously, as if it was actively clashing against her palm. Shallow breaths fanned over her blackened hand, your uncontrolled hiccups and wide eyes making you jolt with each rough jerk of your body. You nearly tumbled forward as it grew hard to maintain any semblance of tranquility, both within your messy thoughts and your surroundings.

The harbinger’s broad arms circling your waist and hemming you into her grasp slowly began to subside the intense whirlwind of dread swallowing your subconscious whole, making your breaths become more drawn in and elaborate. Yet that awful unrest and distress resumed to gnaw at you continuously. Arlecchino didn’t take long to notice this, proceeding to trace your tensed up muscles from the collarbone down, outlining your silhouette slowly.

“Deep breaths, (Name).”

Flickers of light above outstretched your own shadow before you, causing you to nearly stray away from Arlecchino’s easing words, yet you did as she instructed, drawing in a deep intake of air through your nostrils and pushing it out of your lips. “There you go. Keep doing that. And focus on my hands.” She asserted, giving a gentle nudge to your shoulders and coaxing you to relax them.

You complied, lowering your hunched shoulders and fixing your mind to feel her nails gliding along your skin from the way she held you, back flush against her chest.

Repeating each deep breath, you gradually found yourself slowly fluttering your eyes open, submerged in a mellow sense of comfort flooding your senses. Your squinted gaze weakly shifted over to the flickering candle rested atop the bedside table, its flame jittering in the blink of an eye repeatedly. You leaned further into Arlecchino’s touch, seeking her warmth as her hand shifted to rest atop your head.

You were strangely similar to this alluring candle, your brightness always flickered with each gust of wind threatening to erase your flame of a soul in a seemingly endless battle. However, Arlecchino stood with you through thick and thin, at your worst and at your best. No matter how you saw it, Arlecchino was your burning flame, who kindled the wick of your candle. She was the lighter to your flame.

“Feeling any better?” Arlecchino mused, glancing down at your slumped body as she continued to hold you. You only gave a quiet and exhausted nod in response, signaling that you wanted to rest with her for a bit.

No matter what, she‘ll always be there for you.

A/N: I LOVE HOW THIS ONE TURNED OUT PERSONALLY WAWAWAW also I hope that you’re doing well anon and that you’ll get through whatever you’re going through <33

[yandere-romanticaa]

A month has passed since a strange cult took you within its ranks. It wasn't necessarily by choice but it was something you needed to do in order to survive. Your entire village had been destroyed in a sudden onslaught of ferocious demons, massacring all of your friends and family.

You were left with nothing.

For days you had roamed the mountains and with a heavy heart had accepted the fact that you were going to die, be it from starvation, dehydration or some stray demon devouring you from head to toe.

Lord Douma had other things in store for you.

He was a strange one, the man who rescued you. He was oddly easy to amuse and absolutely everything you did was incredibly entertaining to him. One of his favorite past times were when he would simply stare at you as you talk about your life and perform everyday, mundane duties. At first you thought nothing of it - he saved your life, the least you could do was indulge him just a little bit.

Red flags started to show up soon though - the way he would move and carry himself, it simply was not natural. Whenever there was a meal, Douma would not even look at the food or even have a sip of water. You chalked it up to him having his own private meals and decided to think nothing of it.

You had managed to settle within a comfortable routine which just so happened to often cross paths with the great Lord himself. He seemed to greatly enjoy your presence and would have you with him from the moment the sun had risen until wee hours in the morning.

How was he never tired?

Suspicion slowly turned to fear as you noticed that some members of the cult were missing. No one knew what came of them or where they were last seen, as if some foul creature had spirited them away.

You brought up your concerns with Lord Douma but he just called you silly and told you not to worry about it. "Nothing bad will happen to you!" he'd say reassuringly but his words gave you shallow comfort.

Douma, for whatever reason, was also quite fond of physical touch and you were his favorite when it came to that. He was absolutely shameless and would explore your body however he saw fit. Amongst those odd trysts, you noticed that a powerful metallic smell would cling onto him and would never go away no matter how hard you washed his clothing.

No amount of praying could prepare you for the horror you'd encounter on one moonless evening.

You had woken up due to a strange noise and, against your better judgment, decided to investigate. With nothing but a single candle in your hand and a long but thin nightshirt covering your body, you ventured downwards the dark and creepy hallways. It felt as though the shadows themselves were out to get you because you'd flinch at every single sound no matter how miniscule. The closer you got to Lord Douma's chambers the stranger the noises got - giggling, slurping and crunching could be heard as a horrible stench filled the air, a smell so vile that it made you want to throw up your dinner. You'd often ask him what he liked to eat but naturally, Douma would just dodge your question or say something really silly. "It's easier if I eat alone!" he'd say as he caressed your hair. With each step you took the stench became stronger and stronger and Douma's words continued to ring inside your head like bells.

"You see, I'm a bit of a night owl! It's also not smart to come to my chambers without knocking first!~"

You should have listened to him and his thinly disguised warning.

Through the tiniest of cracks you saw Douma on the floor, covered in fresh blood. A wicked grin danced across his lips as he toyed with the severed limbs with the mauled corpse of a young woman, her eyes stricken with fear even in death.

It took you every ounce and willpower to not scream bloody murder.

With the way he was treating the corpse you'd think that Lord Douma was but a child with a precious toy. His light tone and playful gestures sent chills down your spine as you covered your mouth with your hand, a desperate attempt to conceal any potential noises that may escape you. You watched him for a few moments as you let it all sink in, not even realizing just how much your entire being trembled with fear. Just before you could make a break for it you heard Douma speak.

"I know you're there, watching me. I don't know who you are but I can smell you!"

Crap.

Dropping the candle to the floor you could do nothing but freeze as Douma continued to speak, total indifference lacing his voice.

"I would leave, if I were you. I am in a good mood tonight and shall play stupid so I won't turn around to see your face! Now, be a good little disciple and go back to bed!"

Squeaking like a helpless puppy, you ran away with your tail behind your legs, not realizing that Douma knew damn well that it was you. The demon could sense your presence across a giant mountain if need be and your sweet smell would invade his senses every time he would think about you. It was a shame that you saw him in such a state but he really did not want to kill you. He was content with playing dumb and hoped that it would be the same case for you as well.

As long as you kept your lips sealed, everything was going to be alright.

Part 2 here!

[skyeslittlecorner]

Could I request any romantic headcanons for the Hades nobles? They just been stuck in my brain since Ch.5 and the current event, especially Glas and Foras 💜

They infect our brains like a plague and I have no intention of getting rid of them. Hades propaganda let's go! I like to write thematically, so how about spending some time with them before and during the ball at Hades?

Orias not included, because I have no idea how he will behave towards MC.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Together with Barbatos, you are to prepare the decorations. And no, you can't open all the windows and cover everything with roses. After a lively discussion, you came to the conclusion that rose petals, bouquets of flowers on columns and long ribbons would be decorative enough, but not extravagant. You stood on the ladder, pinning the folds of fabric under the silver flowers.

"None of this matters anyway." Barbatos spoke too melancholy for him.

"Why?"

"When you appear at the door, beautiful as the sun itself, all the decorations will fade in your light anyway. And since everything takes place in the evening, you will replace the real sun for us."

You fell off the ladder when you heard him. Literally. Luckily, the demon caught you with a wide smile as you covered your face with your hands with a groan. He smelled like a fresh meadow on a summer morning, and was just as radiant.

"You don't say things like that out of surprise!"

"If you keep falling into my arms like that, that's exactly what I'll be doing."

Even if you wanted to, you couldn't get mad at him.

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Glasyalabolas is responsible for drinks and snacks. You had some bad feelings at first, but when you walked over the buffet, they all evaporated. You reached for the beautifully smelling punch. Before you grabbed the ladle, a large hand covered yours.

"It's not for you."

You turned on your heel, ready to be outraged, but then a mountain of a man placed a beautifully decorated glass of sweet-smelling wine in your hand.

"My queen should not drink the same as her subjects."

You raised your eyebrows in amusement. The wine was indeed surprisingly sweet, yet with a dry note.

"So what will your queen eat and drink at the party?"

"Let me present." He took you to a small table where the snacks looked surprisingly earthy. Emotion rose in your throat.

"Is this for me?"

"Only."

You took one of the macaroons and stood on your tiptoes to put it in the huge demon's mouth.

"So I'd like you to try them with me."

Only after the ball did you learn that everyone who drank the punch complained of an almond taste and stomach pain. The only thing that didn't taste suspicious was the snacks from the small table in the corner of the room...

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

The maids who were sent to help you get ready to go were finishing pinning up your hair and fixing your makeup when you heard a knock on the door. They mingled at your dressing table and left through the back door, whispering among themselves. They were nice, but you were a bit tired of all the preparations. Was all this really necessary?

"Please come in."

You saw the reflection of Foras entering in the mirror. Even though there's no loop around your neck, you've forgotten how to breathe. Instead of his usual uniform, he wore a formal suit, with a noose instead of a tie. You stood up to get a better look. And you saw there was delight on his face to rival yours.

"You look..." He couldn't find the words. He blinked, took your hand and leaned in to kiss it. "Perfect is too weak a word to describe you."

You no longer regret the time spent at the dressing table.

"You also."

"And lovely, too." He brushed a stray strand of hair from your forehead. "It's an honor to accompany you."

"Charmer."

You took his arm. His eyes said that he would rather stay here, keep you to himself and admire your beautiful appearance piece by piece, taking off your pins, jewelry, and finally your clothes, slowly, one by one, savoring each step. You felt the same way.

"I spent too much time getting ready to spoil it now. But once I show myself to the others, we can come back..."

"They don't deserve to look at you." It slipped out before he could stop himself.

You gripped his arm tighter, ran your fingers down his palm, along his long fingers and veins, and intertwined your hands. Even though you were both waiting for this ball, it suddenly started bothering you. All you needed was each other. But you both knew your responsibilities too well not to go.

[Pspsps, if you would like to see the continuation… ]

꧁:･ ✡ ･:꧂

Leviathan is perfect, as is the entire celebration. But he only appeared for a moment, at the beginning, and you never saw him again. It took a while for you to slip out and find him in the tower of the palace, looking out the window at the feast in the market square. He liked this place. He saw everything that was happening around him, and at the same time he was not surrounded by people. With you, the slow music from the ballroom came through the open door.

"The King of Hades is perfect, right?"

He narrowed his eyes suspiciously, but at least he finally noticed you.

"There should be no doubt about it."

"I wondered if he could dance perfectly too."

He pulled away and stood straight, one hand on his back and the other outstretched towards you. "What a cheap move. If you wanted to dance, all you had to do was say so."

But despite his perfect posture, you saw that he couldn't help himself and looked you up and down. You accepted his hand, placing the other on his shoulder. The silk shirt was as soft to the touch as the muscles you felt beneath it.

"In a perfect scenario, the prince should be the one to ask the princess to dance, you know?"

"This is life, not a fairy tale. I am the king. And you are not allowed to dance with any of the princes."

You giggled, but then he pulled your waist tighter to him. The music, the darkness of the room, the laughter coming from the market square and, above all, the charming man who guided your steps made you have to disagree with him.

"That's right. It's not a fairy tale." You whispered, dancing so close that you rested your head on his chest. "That's much better."

And even though you couldn't see it, or that's why, Leviathan lifted the corners of his mouth as he held you in his arms.

[eeboshmeebo]

💐Dandelion💐

Incorporating a childhood aspect with my favorite character.

@jyohan :3

@the-copycat-hero >:(

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

Every time you saw a dandelion, you always told your parents to stop the car so you can go pick one and blow on it just for the sake of seeing the seeds scatter in the wind. Not to make a wish, but to see more of the bright yellow blossoms and their puffy seeds spread even more.

Safe to say, not many actual wishes were made unless they involved dandelions magically growing at your home or your parents buying some cotton candy in the fancy machine the ice cream parlor had.

The few wishes you actually made, though, always got fulfilled. Mostly because you said them out loud and your parents could always hear you, so you didn't think much of it.

One day, there was this one specific wish that stood out from all the others, one that you made on your thirteenth birthday.

"I wish to meet the prettiest boy in the whole world!" You cried out, before blowing and letting the dandelion seeds float into the air, carried away by the breeze.

It was just a spur of the moment thing. You didn't actually believe you'd meet him, since you were always told you had to keep your wishes quiet for them to come true, but it was nice to dream.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

And what a surprise it was, indeed, when you saw a boy with hair that reminded you of a dandelion about to bloom, eyes as blue as the morning sky, and a vitality in his voice that outmatched the plant that he reminded you of.

"HAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Is this what 1-A does in their break time? None of you even look like you're having a break, you're just sitting and talking!"

Maybe you were hallucinating, but there was this pinkish tint in the room the moment you saw him. Or there was sunlight shining on Mina again. Didn't matter.

He was, certainly, without a single doubt...

"...the prettiest boy in the whole world."

You smiled and leaned over your desk a bit more, resting your chin on your hands before he turned to face you, a sneer on his face as he immediately had something to say.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

"And you! You look extra stupid, anything to speak or is your head too empty to say a single thing?"

Monoma immediately had chosen the student that had a head in the clouds, despite the fact that those eyes were keenly focused on him and not having an unfocused gaze into nowhere. He surely won't regret thi-

"You're a wish come true... the prettiest boy in the world is real!"

"...ah!? What're you talking about?! I didn't come from a dumb wish!"

Why did you say that in front of everyone.

He bit his lower lip in an attempt to retain his composure, though he could physically feel the blush rising on his face.

"Wow, he even looks like a Rainier cherry when he blushes. I can just take a big ol' bi-"

"Harassment!"

"OW!"

Thankfully, the rectangular-looking student with glasses had slapped the back of your head before looking up back at him.

"I dearly apologize for our classmate's behavior. This has never happened before, and frankly, I expected better."

"Yeah, just... discipline your classmates better. Hmmph. Unruly..."

Before his face could turn even redder, he quickly fled out of the classroom while covering his face, running past Kendo who looked at him with an expression he'd rather not see at the moment.

He'd have to look up Rainier cherries later and send a thank-you gift to glasses guy in secret afterwards since nobody could know he thanked a 1-A student of all people.

"Can't believe that... that..! Ugh! Just go and... and eat dirt!"

He kicked a stray eraser on the way back to the 1-B classroom, grumbling to himself the entire time.

✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿

"No. Way. Iida!" Mina hissed, pulling Iida by the jacket and closer to her desk, her eyes wide with shock and her teeth gritted together as she pulled him down by the collar.

Iida practically felt the urgency in her voice and toned down his voice, but also made sure to fix his glasses' position. "What's the problem, Mina? I've rarely heard you this panicked before."

She rolled her eyes before leaning in even closer to him, whispering into his ear.

"Our classmate's in love with the blondie that came earlier."

His reddening face immediately paled at that news. Proximity to the opposite sex was nothing compared to the realization that his classmate was in love with that guy who just barged in, insulted his class, and then left.

"The whole thing..?" He weakly asked, covering his mouth with one hand to hide the way his jaw dropped at the news.

"Yes," Mina hissed yet again, looking around before continuing. "The doki-doki, badump-badump. The rose-tinted glasses. The whole head-over-heels. The comment about biting the other guy. Our classmate is in love."

"Oh no... we're too young! Studies should be a priority, not romance!"

"I'd love to say otherwise, but right now we have to find a way to help our classmate fall out of love with that guy before it's too late."

"A shameful thing..."

"But our classmate, our friend, can do so much better than him. We just need to expose a side worse than the one he exposed today."

It was settled. Mina and Iida would help you rise back out of love via... exposure therapy.

"What're you two talking about?"

"Nothing big, just planning a few things, dear classmate!"

"Okay then... you do you, I guess."

They both sighed in relief as you went back to doodling and rubbing the back of your head. This had to be kept a secret, lest unwanted events occur, like you falling deeper in love.

~✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿~

Part one of plan Yellow Rose. Yellow roses mean 'friendship'. They can accept friendship, but not romance.

Mina and Iida brought you to 1-B's classroom. Surely, seeing Monoma new side would diminish your affection for him, right? That's what they hoped for, anyways.

"What're we doing, again?"

"We're taking you to class 1-B to apologize for your uncouth comment. Their class representative heard you from the hallway."

That right there was a rehearsed line from last night. Thankfully, it wasn't too hard to convince you to follow them so a lot of the lines they practiced didn't need to be used.

"And right here is the other class..." Mina started talking as she opened the door, but she hesitated when you stepped inside.

"Don't make a scene, okay?"

"..."

"Buddy?"

Too late. Iida was frantically moving his arms and making robotic gestures that Mina couldn't make heads or tails of, while you had already locked onto someone and beelined towards him.

"Wishboy! You're here! No wonder you disappeared so quickly yesterday, you were here all along! Oh, wow, you're really pretty up close. Has anyone told you before that you've got really smooth skin? Your lips, too. They're like flower petals."

Monoma's face progressively got redder the longer you rambled on, to the point where it was visible despite his efforts to hide his blush.

"Oh, really? well, I wish I could say the same for you, but I'd rather not waste my breath on the likes of you." Monoma teased, though he was as smooth as almond butter at the moment.

"Really? Damn... because even your voice is pretty, too."

Part one obviously failed, judging by the current situation. Mina facepalmed while Iida picked you up by the arms and walked back out of the classroom, the lovestruck look on your face obvious to anyone seeing it.

However, while they left with you in tow, Monoma couldn't help but wonder...

"...are you playing with me, or is this real?"

~✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿~

Part two. Since meeting him when he was calm didn't work, how about when he was riled up after training? Surely, seeing him all messed up, exhausted, and disheveled should do the trick.

Mina and Iida had teamed up with Sero and Tooru to make sure this plan won't screw up... again.

They had told you to bring some perfume and towels just in case, though you came to the training grounds with the entire beach supply set. Handheld fan, sunscreen, UV umbrella, the works. Maybe you saw that the temperature was high today or something.

Sero, Tooru, and Mina were definitely thankful for the shade since it was sweltering outside. Iida was negotiating with Vlad King to watch the rest of training. The 1-B students had mostly finished their training ahead of time and were resting under one of the thinner umbrellas on the training area at the moment, but there were a few more students that didn't come over yet...

"Can you see him, Mina..?" Tooru whispered behind you, fanning herself to keep away the heat.

"No, not yet. Where is he? He- oh."

And over the negligible hill came Monoma.

Dear god, what a mess.

Sweating, shaking, stumbling, somehow in last place, and downright unrecognizable to the untrained eye. And he somehow lost his gym uniform top.

What. A. Mess-

"Wait. Hold on, are you kidding me?"

"Noooo... nooo!"

When the trio looked towards you, you were practically eyeing him up like a critic over a runway model despite him being the furthest thing away from a model at the moment.

Mina had hidden behind Tooru to shield herself, though it was the handheld fan that did most of the work and not Tooru herself for obvious reasons. Sero had just looked away.

While the three students had deigned themselves to not look while you fawned over what was probably the messiest sight ever, you walked up to Monoma with a towel, some water, and an ice pack in hand.

Iida, however, was able to see what was going on after Vlad King was satisfied with his explanation.

"Want some water?"

"Yeah, sure. Thanks for the wa..." Iida could see that Monoma took the offered water and took a hefty swig, but choked when he saw who it was.

"Y-you!?"

"Yeah, it's me. Heh, you're really cute when shocked."

"I'm not cute! Why're you here, anyways!? To make fun of me? You probably are!"

"But that's mean, and you're far too cute to be mean to..."

"You're lying. I can see it on your face. AH! Let go unless you want me to copy your Quirk!"

"I'm fine with that if it means I get to hold your hand."

"...you're not deterred by the fact I can copy your Quirk?"

"Of course not! I actually think it's a really cool and useful power,

Iida felt like he was watching an unstoppable force and an unmovable wall go head-to-head, but the wall was crumbling quickly and gaining the shade of red bricks as it did.

The wall being Monoma. Oddly enough, Iida felt a bit sour watching this entire exchange, watching you wipe the sweat off Monoma's face casually despite the boy's protests and how you kept on teasing him.

"Ah, the sourness of being single..."

Iida jumped, or would have, if he didn't have Mina's hands on his shoulders while she grimaced.

"It's like they're in a relationship and they don't even know it. Frustrating! I ship it, though."

"Mm-hmm." He agreed, before guiding his friends away from the training grounds. He now knew what it felt like to be a 'single dog' that he always heard about, unfortunately.

♡✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿♡

A week later.

"So..."

Monoma fidgeted around with one the many daisy-buttercup flower rings on his hands, sitting on a picnic blanket under a tree while you had two dandelions in hand and scoured the field for more.

"Did you really mean them? Those compliments you said to me."

"Hmm... yep. All of them. I wouldn't be bothered to even think of any if they weren't about you, wishboy."

It was so, so confusing. He plucked a daisy from nearby, admiring the petals and the slight pinkish hues. English daisies with their gentle hues and layers of petals. He started picking at the petals, a small game of 'Love me, loves me not' going though his mind.

"That's more flattering than I thought it'd be, really. I still can't believe that you don't mind me touching you, even my own classmates needed a little while to get used to me, and boom! Here you are, just..."

"Waltzing up to you without a hint of discomfort?"

You sat down next to him and offered him a dandelion that had already turned into a soft puff of seeds. He took it, but didn't look at it closely in favor of looking at you.

"Yeah. It's almost uncanny, but also comforting."

"Aww, it's nice to hear that you think of me in that way. Really."

You stretched out, raising your own dandelion in front of you while you held onto his free hand.

"Wanna know why I brought you out here?"

"It's not because you want to compare blooming dandelions to my hair, is it?"

"Only partially. The real thing is that... well, it's a childish thing, really, but if you blow on these," You lifted up your dandelion a bit more to emphasize it. "And make a wish, it might come true. That's what I grew up being told, anyways."

Blowing on plant seeds to make a wish, huh? Curious. He set aside his half-plucked daisy and kept the dandelion you gave him securely in hand, ready to blow on it whenever.

"It does seem a little silly, but judging by how big the field is, it must be fun, anyways."

"Definitely."

Monoma could feel his hand being squeezed, but he successfully ignored the blush on his cheeks as he saw you ready to blow on your dandelion.

Three...

Two...

One...

Fwuuuuuuu!

You and Monoma blew on your dandelions at the same time, watching the seeds scatter into the wind and lift into the sky.

"This feels kind of like a date."

And there goes the mood. He gulped a bit out of nervousness, and suddenly, his collar felt a bit too tight.

"Oh, sorry. This could just be hanging out if you want-" "No! No, I- uh... I'm fine with this being a date, actually."

Your silence felt suffocating. More suffocating than anything else's he's felt. He squeezed his eyes shut, anticipating disappointment.

He didn't anticipate the soft touch of your lips on his hand.

"A date it is, then. I was just a bit shocked earlier because wow, you're really pretty and I just realized that again."

He opened his eyes, much less tense than earlier... then he threw a bunch of petals into your face.

"Don't do that! You scared me, hahaha!"

"Pfffbwth- ah, okay, I won't do that next time, but also, petal attack!"

♡✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿✿♡

Class 1-A and 1-B were watching from a distance to make sure everything went well as it could be... and in return, they got the heart-wrenching feeling of being single.

A worthy sacrifice. Especially since Kaibara got some really good pictures on his polaroid camera to pin up later.

[littlemessyjessi]

"Guardian Snow Angel": A Holiday/Winter The Walking Dead Imagine: Daryl Dixon

…

A Holiday/Winter The Walking Dead Imagine 

Daryl Dixon x Plus Size Reader, PS Reader, Reader Insert 

Use of Y/N because if I tarry too long on particular details ya’ll will not see it this season.   However, this is the base for a Daryl story that I haven’t decided whether or not to post.   But I did give ya’ll quite a lot of juicy tidbits so you can kinda get a feel for it.  Please lemme know what you think and if you’d like to see the story.  Moving on. 

Fem Identifying reader because, listen, I like women and I like writing women.   But also, bi panic.   Daryl is a dude (or at least it seems he’s mostly portrayed that way in the show.  Idk what his personal pronouns are.They could change.  We don’t know his inner thoughts and where his heart lies. ) Anyway, bi panic, bi needs.   I want both.  It’s fem identifying.  If you don’t like, that’s cool.  Feel free to scroll. 

Warnings:  Um, TWD? It’s a zombie apocalypse?  

Also, if you’re under 18…  get out.   Happy Holidays.  Have a great day.  Hope the best for you.  But get out.  Love you but git.  

…. 

The wind was biting. 

This was no ‘Jack Frost nipping at your nose’ situation. 

This was the kind of wind that didn’t just bite but rather sliced through you to the bone…. and Daryl was stuck out in the middle of it. 

He was on his own again. 

At times he preferred it and at times he hated it. 

This was one of the times where he hated it. 

The sound of hooves thundering against a snow covered frozen ground had him turning to squint through the blinding blizzard. 

“Are you alright down there?” 

Daryl had taken to hiding under a thick bit of brush to have at least some sort of shelter before he lost all of his limbs to frostbite. 

However, he turned to the sound of oncoming hooves and hadn’t at all expected to hear a voice from directly behind him. 

He whirled around at a rapid pace, drawing his arrow and aiming. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” said the moving mass of fur and antlers currently clouding most of his vision. 

His brows furrowed further, “What the?” 

A quick jerk of the head and the hood fell away to reveal the face of a woman, “Friend or foe?” 

“Uh, what?”  he asked, very, very aware of the tip of her spear pointed at his throat. 

“Friend?” she repeated with a tilt of her head one way.  

“Or foe?” she finished with a tilt the other way. 

“Neither?” he asked. 

“Good answer.” she grinned. 

“How is that a good answer?” he asked as she pulled back her spear… just a little. 

“Because it’s the true one for the most part.” she shrugged. “I hate when everyone says friend immediately.  Like, bitch.  We don’t know each other.  You might be someone who thinks dresses don’t need pockets in which case…. you are definitely my foe.” 

Daryl chuckled a bit despite the severity of the situation. 

“So, Neither.” she said.  “Here’s the deal.  Should you choose to stay out here, you’ll freeze to death and probably be eaten by that crafty little mountain lion who keeps trying to steal my rabbits.” 

Daryl made a mental note of the cougar… and the rabbits  to stay away from. 

“However, I would be willing to house you temporarily because let’s face it- it’ll bother my sleep tonight if I leave you out here to die.  And my sleep is rather important to me.  Can’t afford to sacrifice one morsel of it on account of a stray dude dicking around in a blizzard causing me nightmares.” she rambled. 

Daryl was just doing his best to keep up with this rambled thought process of hers but he had gathered she had  shelter from a blizzard and no matter what lay there… it seemed better than freezing to death… or being eaten by a wild animal. 

“Ok….” he said. 

“Ok, what?” she asked. 

“Ok, I’d be, uh, grateful for the help.” he said. 

“Oh!” she smiled.  “Great!” 

Then the world went dark because she smacked him over the head with her spear and knocked him out. 

He came too not terribly long after, hanging upside down over the back of some type of animal. 

It only took him a few moments to realize that it was a massive moose and he made to move. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” came that voice again.  “Best not to spook Sprinkles. He’s a bit jumpy sometimes.” 

“Sprinkles?” 

“Yes, Sprinkles.   He has little flecks on his nose.  So he looks like the cutest little cupcake… with sprinkles.” 

Daryl was suddenly regretting his decision. 

Maybe death by freezing would’ve been better. 

This poor woman seemed to have completely lost her mind. 

He got it. 

He understood. 

The world was what it was now and many, many, MANY people had completely cracked under the pressure of it. 

He wasn’t entirely sure he shouldn’t have taken his chances with being eaten alive by the cougar. 

Still wasn’t sure he might not be eaten alive anyway. 

There were some who had turned and some who had just turned insane. 

“Close your eyes or I’ll have to knock you out again.” she said. 

“What? Why?” he asked, trying to figure out where she was. 

“Because, I can’t very well let you know the location and see the entrance can I?” she asked.  “What if you have nefarious intentions?” 

“For fuck’s sake- I don’t have- hey! Don’t hit me again!” he said, catching the end of that spear and his eyes widening when he realized that that insane woman was literally leaning back against the antlers of that moose as if she was lounging in bed. 

Not sitting atop an enormous wild animal in the middle of a blizzard. 

“Well, close your eyes then.” she said, launching forward to where she was less than an inch from his face.  “Actually, I’ll need to blind fold you.” 

“Listen, maybe I’ll just-” 

“First of all, if you hop off now, you’ll spook Sprinkles.  She’ll kick you in a panic and you’ll die and be eaten by some critter.” she said. 

“Ok-” 

“Second, I’ve already told you, you’ll freeze to death in this weather.  I’m offering you shelter so you don’t freeze and then get eaten.  All I’m asking is a little anonymity.” she said. 

“Ok but-”  

“Third, you said you didn’t want me to knock you out so the other option is for me to blind fold you!” she said. 

“I’ll close my eyes. I’ll cover them with my hands.” he said and covered his eyes with his hands.  “Please, I have issues with the blind fold.” 

“Trauma?” she asked. 

He nodded. 

“That sucks. I’m sorry.” she said. “And sorry about the likely concussion.” 

“Yeah, that shit hurts.” he chuckled.  “You’re deadly with that thing.” 

“More than you know.” she said and grew silent. 

Daryl remained true to his word by keeping his hands over his eyes but he could FEEL her staring him down to make sure they stayed there. 

He wasn’t entirely sure how much time had passed but his teeth were chattering and his fingers were aching from the cold when suddenly she took hold of them. 

He jumped at the difference in temperature.  

“I’m just guiding you.  Keep your eyes closed but I’ll help you down and get you inside.” she said. 

“If you would just let me see I can get down myself.” 

“Do you want to freeze to death or not?” 

He sighed. 

“Look, dude.  We do this my way or you face the wilderness alone.  I’ve been burned before and I’m not doing it again.  God, my guardian angel, maybe it’s your guardian angel… something is telling me to keep your ass alive for the night at least.   Maybe it’s my conscience or the desire to not add any MORE nightmares to my nightly toss and turn tilt a whirl of terror. However, I am not about to risk whatever fraction of safety I’ve managed to procure here.   Either do it my way or I hit you with the stick and leave you in the fucking snow.” she ranted. 

Daryl recognized the hard edge to her voice. 

It was a bit of panic and, likely, exhausted that this was life now.  

He got it so he held his hands up in surrender but kept his eyes screwed shut. 

“Ok, we do it your way.” he said softly before adding.  “Thank you.” 

She took his hands again, helping him down and moving him forward. 

Hoof prints sounded behind him. 

“Uh…” 

“Don’t mind Sprinkles.  He knows where he goes and outside of an emergency he’d prefer if we don’t bother him  until morning.”  she said.  “Trust me. He has a lady friend around here somewhere and you do not want to see that.  When I say trust me, I mean trust me.  You need to add some trauma to your life? That’ll do it.” 

Daryl just nodded, a little unnerved by this woman but also becoming increasingly aware of the fact that he did need her. 

At least for the night. 

She was right. 

He would’ve frozen to death.  

The wind was nearly ripping him apart at the moment and then suddenly…. warmth. 

The kind of warmth where it was such a stark contrast to the raging wind that it almost hurt for a second before it turned to a blissful ebb of comfort.   

“Alright, you can open your eyes.” she said and he did,  revealing them to be inside a room. 

It was a strange thing with wood everywhere and with what seemed like an endless ceiling. 

“Is this?” he said, eyes narrowing at his surroundings. 

When they landed on the woman, her impish little smile confirmed his suspicions. 

“Keebler elves aren’t the only ones who learned to live in trees.” she teased and he couldn’t help but chuckle. 

That’s what he had thought. 

They were inside a tree. 

“The animals do it.” she shrugged.  

“The animals are covered in fur.” Daryl pointed out even though it did seem fairly well insulated. 

She lifted a brow and gestured to her attire. 

The massive furry covering draped over her, the boots wrapped in fur. 

To be honest, there wasn’t much of her that wasn’t covered in it.  

“You’re the one who decided to go out severely underdressed in the middle of a snowstorm.” she said pointedly. 

“Well, I hadn’t planned to be in the middle of a snowstorm.” he admitted. 

“No one really ever does.” she shrugged. “‘Cept me but I’m used to this weather.  Whenever you get ready to leave, I’ll give you some furs.  I’ve got some things that will fit you.” 

Daryl blinked at her kindness, “Thank you.” 

She nodded and waved him on, “Come on.  Let’s get you thawed out and get some food in your belly. I’m sure you’re hungry.” 

“Starving.” he admitted. 

“Well, that’s good because there’s plenty.” she said.  “Follow me.” 

Daryl followed this wacky woman deeper and deeper down into what he could only assume was the earth beneath his old tree until it was so warm that he actually began to sweat. 

When they finally cleared the dim lighting of her tunnel systems he was almost blinded by the glow of firelight.

“Y/N, that you?” came a voice in the distance and it was then that Daryl noticed a rocking chair in front of that fire.   

“Yes, Auntie.  It’s me.” the woman, Y/N, answered.  “I’ve brought a traveller as well.” 

“You hid the way?” the older woman asked. 

“Yep.” Y/N said, shucking her giant fur coverings and making Daryl do a bit of a double take at her soft, squishy shape.  

‘That’s pretty.’ he thought to himself.

“He might have a concussion though.” Y/N admitted.  “I may have rattled his brains like Rafiki the baboon from the Lion King movie.  Remember that one?” 

“What do you mean do I remember that one, you little brat?” the woman said, finally turning to reveal silver hair twisted into braids.   “You nearly drove me insane with that movie when you were little.” 

Y/N grinned and turned to Daryl, “This is Auntie.  Just call her Auntie.  She gets a bit testy about the word ‘ma’am’ and it’s no use to even ask for her name because if you try to say Miss anything, she’ll whack you with that cane.” 

“So you come by the whole smacking people with sticks things honestly then?” he teased. 

She grinned at him, “Well, truthfully Auntie and I aren’t blood related.” 

“I think that only made it worse.” Auntie said from her chair. 

“Why?” Daryl asked out of curiosity. 

“Her mother and I were best friends.” Auntie said. 

“Call it what it was, ya’ll were gay for each other.” Y/N said, taking her boots off. 

She was less concerned with finding Daryl a blanket since he was literally sweating in front of the fire and more concerned with getting all her layers off before she overheated. 

Auntie narrowed her eyes at Y/N, “It was a different time.” 

“It was the 90s.” Y/N said. 

“A different time!” Auntie said and threw her slipper at the woman. “Believe it or not, it still wasn’t very accepted even before the whole world descended into the end of times, young lady.  And it had less to do with the time really and more to do with the location.  Parts of the south didn’t take too kindly to it and more specifically the part that she and I lived in was small, racist, homophobic and generally terrible.  All for about fifteen people or so.  Those fifteen were angels but they suffered in that hell hole just as much as we did.” 

“I’m sorry, Auntie.” Y/N said, tending to the large pot swinging over the fire. “I didn’t mean to offend you.  I was just teasing.” 

“I know.  I’m just a bit sensitive today.  The storm hurts my bones.  I hate that I sound like my mother when I say that but it’s true.  It suddenly explains why that demon of a woman was so cranky all the time.  Her shit hurt.” 

Daryl couldn’t help but laugh. 

“What is your name?” Auntie asked.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t even ask that.” Y/N chuckled before handing over a bowl of stew with rich deep spices that smelled heavily. 

“It’s Daryl.” he answered Auntie before nodding to Y/N.  “Thank you.” 

Y/N returned the nod but it was Auntie that spoke, “Well, Daryl, to answer your earlier question as to why it’s worse…. because that little brat has the face of the woman who I was very much in love with… but the attitude of myself.   My mother always said she hoped I had a child that was exactly like me so I paid for my raisin.   I didn’t even carry that one and, I’ll be if my mother didn’t get exactly what she said.” 

The three of them chuckled but Y/N spoke, “I don’t mind that though.  I miss mama but I can see her in the mirror and I think having your attitude is a pretty good thing.   You’re a tough bird and you teach me every day. Besides, mama used to tell me that an attitude and a spirit were two sides of one coin and that she became a rich woman the moment she fell in love with you.” 

Auntie sniffled, too proud to let them see her tears. 

“That mushy shit you get from her though.” she said. 

Daryl and Y/N nearly choked on their laughter… and the stew. 

“What is this?” he asked, scraping up the last of his bowl. 

“Auntie’s pozole.” she responded. “Here, gimme your bowl and have some more.” 

Daryl didn’t argue when she ladeled him out another portion and fully prepared to tuck in when Auntie laid a hand on his arm. 

“Y/N, the lime.” Auntie said. 

“You have limes? In this weather?” Daryl asked in shock. 

“Lime powder.” Auntie said. “Oh about three or four years ago when we were travelling, we’d yet to find our home yet and the little brat over there decided to go on a raid.   I told her there was no way she’d find anything after all this time.  Everything had been looted for years and there just wasn’t anything to be had.” 

“But I had a hunch!” Y/N called from out of sight, making Daryl smile in amusement.  

“Yes, she had a hunch.” Auntie said, rolling her eyes with a fond smile, “That she gets from her mother as well.  The stubborn ass arguing that came when I told her not to and it was useless … Well, that’s all me.” 

Daryl couldn’t help but laugh. 

“Anyway, I tell her it’s useless.  She swears it’s not.” 

“And it wasn’t!” came that voice again. 

“I forbid her to go and realized the moment I said those words, I had just carved it in stone that she WOULD be going no matter what.  Every time my mother forbade me to do something, I nearly killed myself making sure I did it so when I said it and I saw that look in her eye…. I knew I better just hug her tight because she was going no matter what.” Auntie said.  “Scared me to death.  I worried for hours.  I mean, in these times.  It was just the two of us and I feared-” 

Y/N came back around the corner, “Auntie, it all worked out alright.” 

There was an apologetic look on her face as she added some spices to Auntie’s bowl. 

There was a ghost of a memory on her face that told Daryl that the two of them had probably butted heads a lot over the years and maybe sometimes that hadn’t ended up so well. 

It caused a ghost of a memory to pass over his own features when he thought of his brother, Merle. 

She settled down on the floor between the two chairs.

“Oh, shit.  I’m sorry.  I didn’t mean to take your seat.” he said, getting up. “Here, I-” 

“Sit down, Daryl.” Auntie said, waving him off.  “There are other chairs if we need one.  She’d rather sit on the floor anyway.  She’s weird.” 

“Hey!” 

“You are!” 

“Mama sat on the floor all the time.” 

“Yeah and she was weird too.” 

Y/N rolled her eyes, giving this one up as she handed a container to Daryl, “It’s lime powder so be gentle because it’s a lot more potent this way but a little makes a huge difference if you want to try.” 

“Here.” he said, holding out the bowl. “You do it.” 

She gave him a smile and a little sprinkle before settling back down. 

“However, weird as I may be, I would like to point out that I was not wrong about my hunch that time and we are still benefiting from it to this day.” Y/N said, happily tucking into her meal and grinning when she saw Daryl’s eyes widen the moment the lime hit him. “Good isn’t it?” 

“Amazing.” he said.  

“It really is.” Auntie said.  “And I do have to thank the little brat for it.” 

“What did you find exactly?  I mean, was it just lime powder?” he asked. 

Auntie shook her head, “No, this kid comes back to our hideout with six duffle bags strapped to her.” 

“What?” he laughed. 

“Yeah, cutest little pack mule I’d ever seen.” Auntie said. 

“Hey!” said Y/N, a bit disgruntled at being called a mule. 

“I don’t even know how she moved with the way she had them on her so it’s still a mystery to me as to how she walked and managed to evade the undead.” Auntie said. 

“Talent.” Y/N grinned, obviously proud of herself. 

Auntie and Daryl laughed at the sheer cheek of her. 

“In reality, it was sheer determination.  I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had fresh limes and I thought, I’m taking this back if it kills me.  Almost did when I nearly choked myself to death with one of the bag straps.” 

Daryl couldn’t help it.  

He cracked at the image of that and burst into laughter. 

“Oh my God.” he laughed. 

“Yeah, that’s what I said too because I was sure I was about to see him in about 3.5 seconds if I couldn’t get that thing off me.  Luckily, Jesus loves me and let me take my limes home. Probably because he did not want to listen to the amount of complaining I would do if I got to heaven and realized that I choked to death on a bag strap… and didn’t even get to enjoy the limes.” she said. 

Auntie shook her head with a smile on her lips. 

“And where exactly did you find these limes?” Daryl asked out of curiosity.  “I figured anything in a grocery store would’ve been long gone by that point.” 

“Oh, it was and I had no intentions of going in those anyway.  The undead tend to lurk there.  I guess it’s kind of like a baited trap.” she said. 

There was a moment of silence between the three of them as they acknowledged the reality of that statement. 

“But I didn’t find them there.  I found them in an abandoned garden nursery.  I went in thinking maybe there might be some stray tools or seeds.  Which there were, mind you.  Another hunch proven right.” she sassed. “But what I didn’t expect was that there would still be a usable green house back there.  It was overgrown but there were lime trees in there out your ass and as luck would have it, they were ripe and ready to be picked.  So I damn well did.” 

“She definitely did.” Auntie said, patting the top of the woman’s head fondly.  “Five bags full of limes and one stuffed with seed packets and peppers.”

“It’s was great.” Y/N said.  “I felt like I won the lottery.  I went shopping, didn’t cost me a thing.  See, Auntie.  Jesus loves me.  My guardian angel might be tired of my ass but Jesus? That guy? He loves me.”  

Daryl couldn’t help but smile. 

It was curious to him how she still seemed to keep her faith in the world that they lived in… but it was something that looked absolutely beautiful on her.  

“Or maybe it’s because he’s got a sense of humor and he thought it would be hilarious to watch me waddle back with six duffle bags strapped to me all the while I tried to act like Ethan Hunt in Mission Impossible.   Let me assure you, Daryl, I was not as graceful as Mr. Tom Cruise.   I looked like a sassy penguin at best.” she said.  “Either way.   God still led me to the limes and that is a very good thing in my book.  Thank you, Lord, for this delicious bowl of awesome which I am currently enjoying.  I ask that you continue to bless me to be your funky little creation.  Love you, man.  ‘ppreciate you, lord.  You da man.” 

“If that offended you, try not to take it personal.” Auntie said. “She’s not being silly or making a joke.  That’s just who she is and that’s just how she talks to God.” 

“Hey, I’m not judging.” Daryl shrugged. “I’ve never been huge into it myself but the times I have I always thought you were just supposed to talk to him like he was your friend, right?” 

“Yup.” Y/N said.  “God is your homie.  Believe that.” 

“It can be hard sometimes.” he admitted, thinking back at all the people he’d lost. 

“God didn’t do this to the earth.” Auntie said.  “It came from evil.   God knew it would happen, of course and we don’t understand why he works in the way he does but he does.  I had to accept that when her mama passed.” 

Daryl just nodded.  

It seemed hollow to say ‘I’m sorry’ anymore. 

Everyone had lost someone to this and to say it now just felt cheap at times. 

“Mama didn’t turn or anything.” Y/N said.  “She had cancer.  God called her home before all this started.” 

“That’s why I believe in God.” Auntie said. “Her mother was the purest spirit there was and I never could understand why she had to go.  With cancer?  And it was so sudden.  She was fine one day, the next she passed out and then we’re headed to the hospital and the doctors say she’s got a month, maybe two.” 

Daryl didn’t even know how to respond but he didn’t have to. 

Auntie continued, “She made it three and then she died.  She was at home with us.  We gave her a beautiful funeral, laid her to rest and then the world ended.   I thank God every day that he took her because I know what would’ve happened to her.   With her kind spirit?  She’d have been turned or worse right off the bat.” 

“Mama worked at a nursing home until she got sick.” Y/N said, answering Daryl’s unasked question. 

Realization dawned on him. 

He remembered all too well. 

The hospitals. 

The nursing homes. 

Those were awful and heartbreaking and soul crushing. 

“She never would’ve left them.” Auntie said.  “If she didn’t get turned it would’ve been because she would been eaten al-” 

“Auntie-” 

“I’m alright.  Help me to bed, sweetheart.  You two stay awake as long as you like and you get him fixed up, Y/N. But I’m tired and my leg is killing me.  I need to lay down.” 

Daryl was quiet as Y/N led Auntie to another room. 

She appeared again once more to retrieve a pipe and a small pot of herbs before disappearing again. 

The scent of lavender and mint permeated the air as Y/N moved back into the room. 

“She’ll be alright.  It’s the what ifs that get her sometimes.” she said with a shrug. 

Daryl nodded, “I get it.” 

“Well, are you still hungry? There’s plenty more.” she said gesturing to the pot still simmering over the fire. 

“No. I’m full.” he said and patted his stomach. “Thank you.  Where should I…?” 

She looked to the bowl in his hand after he had trailed off, “Oh, I’ll take it.”

“Please.” he said. “At least let me help.” 

She shrugged with an amused smile and let him follow her as she moved to the other room, “It’s just three bowls.” 

“And three spoons.” he said. 

“I’m not even going to wash them tonight.” she said.  “I don’t want to bring more water to boil.  Just gonna rinse them off until morning.” 

“Still.” he said and moved up to rinse them. 

He plunged his hands into the tub not at all expecting it to be as icy cold as it was. 

“Little cold?” Y/N asked. 

“Fuck yeah.” he said, yanking them out and happily accepting the rag she offered him. 

She giggled, “Go sit down by the fire and I’ll bring you something to drink.  Do you like tea?” 

“I’m not a picky person.” he shrugged. 

She snorted, “Alright.  Well, we’ll have some tea and then I’ll show you where you’ll sleep.” 

He nodded, “Thanks again.” 

“Thank Jesus.” she shrugged. “I was just out checking the rabbit traps.  He’s the one that sent your Guardian Angel.  I’m sure they’re the one that caused me to follow the footprints.” 

Daryl said nothing as he waited but he did say thank you to God because when she returned and her face was lit by firelight… he thought to himself. 

‘Maybe I do believe. Angels must be real because God definitely sent me a Guardian Snow Angel today.’ 

……..

Hello, loves!  I hope you enjoy this holiday content! 

Hope ya’ll are having a great day! 

Love you. 

— 

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K, Love you, Bye!

[emotionallychargedtowel]

what's different about Hatano, part 4

Part 1 is here, part 2 is here, and part 3 is here. This is the last post in this series. It's possible I could have other thoughts to add on this subject down the line someday, but this covers all of the factors I set out to discuss when I started.

As in my other Hatano posts, all of these gifs were made by @my-rose-tinted-glasses. I'm so grateful that I'm able to benefit from her detailed and discerning work.

I wrote in part 1 about how Hatano cuts to the chase and immediately confesses to Mob, cutting out the usual preliminaries that Mob uses as warning signs that show he needs to escape a situation. In part 2, I talked about how Hatano seems to have some degree of awareness of Mob's fourth wall-breaking/almost nonstop voiceover-using tendencies, along with how Hatano relates to Mob's relationship to the audience. In part 3, I wrote about Hatano's perseverence, his strategy of making a move and then running away, and the way the age gap factor functions in his favor. I'm going to conclude by talking about a couple of factors that are a bit more profound.

Hatano sees Mob as a three-dimensional person and treats him as such and Mob does the same for him, at least some of the time (something only one other pursuer, Kikuchi, is able to say).

There’s one area in which Hatano differs from most of Mob’s suitors, but is comparable to Kikuchi. Both Kikuchi and Hatano are treated with real consideration by Mob at times, for reasons that have important implications.

Mob usually doesn’t give much thought to the feelings of the people who try to wrangle him into a BL situation. In a way, he flips character statuses on their heads. Mob aims to be a side character, but he treats the typical BL suitor as if they’re a kind of NPC. Their feelings don’t matter—he doesn’t even seem to see them as real. 

This makes sense given the way the other characters treat him. When they don’t see Mob for who he is, even a little bit, he doesn’t grant them that consideration either. In the opening theme of season 3, Mob says that one of his objections to Boys’ Love is how absurd it is. This might sound like he just doesn’t like it because it’s cringe as hell, and that’s a factor. But the absurdity of L with a B is bigger than that. (It has to do with something I alluded to in part 2.)

Let’s think about some of the things that form the basis of some of Mob’s close calls in season 3. One guy starts to fall in love with Mob because he slips on his stray tennis ball and almost falls. Another wonders aloud if they’re soul mates because they use the same shampoo. Mob has to be careful how he responds to a guy who tickles him in order to avoid having him fall for him (and the tickler ends up going for the guy he tickles right after Mob). These are absurd reasons to fall in love, and part of the problem with that is that falling on a tennis ball, using shampoo, and being tickled don’t say anything substantive about the person who does them.

Nobody wants to be loved for some random circumstantial reason that renders us interchangeable with pretty much anyone who might have stumbled into the same situation. We want to be loved because of who we are—because we have certain qualities a person values, because we did things that meant something to them, because they saw something special in us. We want to be loved for specific reasons that matter. The absurdity of those thin excuses for falling in love is related to how meaningless they are. Mob says he’s simply opposed to falling in L with a B, no matter what. But it could also be accurate to say that he avoids falling in L with a B who doesn’t value him for any specific reason or see him as an distinct person. 

Only two people give more thought to Mob and seem to see him as a fleshed-out human being: Kikuchi and Hatano. Both could stand to know him better, but by the standards of the world of BL, they're remarkable.

Kikuchi’s original reason for liking Mob, the kindness he showed him when he helped him use a copy machine at their university, is only a tiny bit more complex than the reasons other characters become interested in him. But over the course of the first two seasons, Kikuchi shows more depth of thought about Mob than anyone else has. In season 2, when Kikuchi watches Mob from afar, he notices things. He even says that part of the reason Mob inspired him to study to be a veterinarian is the concern Mob shows toward cats. It’s a really neat sort of turn in the story. Up to that point, the viewer, like Mob, sees cats as showing up in fateful moments to send Mob into story traps. But the only reason Mob falls when a cat walks in front of him is the fact that he cares enough to try not to hurt cats. Kikuchi notices this and actually cares about it. I’d argue that he reads too much into it, which is a bit reminiscent of Mob’s more absurd pursuers. But at least he notices real things that Mob does, which the others seldom do. (At the very least, Mob really does care a great deal about cats in the manga. That version of Mob not only has a family cat, who he dotes on, but he also looks at cat photos on his phone when he’s bored.) 

Hatano doesn’t make note of specific actions Mob takes in the present or the recent past very much, in the way Kikuchi does. But his feelings for Mob are still based on something he did: the time he helped him out when he was stranded with a broken bike as an elementary-schooler, back when Mob was in middle school. (Mob cuts Hatano’s story off before he says what Mob did to help, going into voiceover mode over Hatano’s dialogue, but it's clear that Mob at least helped Hatano fix his bicycle. It seems likely that he also provided some degree of comfort, since Hatano says he was in tears at the time and Mob compares the incident to the one he just witnessed with the sad middle-school boy and the refreshingly handsome grad student who reassures him.) 

There’s one thing in this vein that Hatano does that Kikuchi doesn’t, and that is that he tries to protect Mob. This comes up around the risks posed by an age gap relationship. When Hatano asks to temporarily rescind his confession after learning how strongly people would disapprove of their relationship, he isn’t worried about the social consequences for himself—all he cares about is how they might affect Mob. In fact, he works himself up into such a state worrying about him that he imagines him being sent to jail even though it’s perfectly legal for a guy in his early 20s to date and even have sex with a 17-year-old in Japan. So backing off—for a while, at least—from pursuing Mob is something he does purely out of solicitude for Mob’s safety and well-being.

Both Hatano and Kikuchi see Mob as a specific person, not just some guy who slipped on a tennis ball and so forth. And at least some of the time, he returns the favor. He remembers details about them. He tries to spare their feelings, at least up to a point. When he goes to a bar with Kikuchi in the last episode of season 3 and assures him there’s nothing going on between him and Hatano, it may be the most consideration he shows any of his suitors in the entirety of the series. But he acts similarly toward Hatano after Kikuchi first approaches them. When Hatano starts to take his leave, Mob protests that he doesn’t have to go, denies that he needs to have a talk with Kikuchi. You could argue that he’s just trying to avoid being alone with Kikuchi, but I don’t think that’s the case. He seems genuinely concerned, at least to some extent. In this regard, Kikuchi and Hatano have a related kind of status in Mob’s mind. 

There’s another context in which Mob interacts with Hatano, where he’s cordial, even chummy. It’s a context that’s unique to Mob’s relationship with Hatano: their time acting in a BL together. 

Acting in a BL together shifts the dynamic between Mob and Hatano, quieting Mob’s fourth-wall-addressing side and heightening emotions even when they aren’t in front of the camera. 

I talked in part 2 about Mob’s tendency to break the fourth wall/make constant voiceover commentary to the audience and the way that Hatano has a unique ability to sense that, or at least some part of it. When Mob and Hatano are cast opposite one another in a BL, Mob's voiceover habit simply goes away for a while. It’s not as if this happens because Mob doesn’t need to worry about flags coming up while he’s filming, because they definitely do. Maybe the show-within-a-show premise is too conceptually complex to accommodate it. Regardless, it is hard to imagine how they could have made it work here. 

The absence of Mob’s voiceover affects the tone of this part of the series quite a bit. I found myself wondering what he was thinking at times, in an uncomfortable way, because I was so used to having that spelled out constantly. But it also allows for some other possibilities that aren’t normally present in the show, which I’ll talk more about in a moment. 

The show-within-a-show thing has other effects as well. Obviously, it brings Mob into closer proximity to Hatano and causes them to spend a lot of time together. They act out romantic tropes together and Hatano has a few excuses to touch Mob. They also end up chatting in a friendly way between scenes. In those moments, Mob seems sincerely comfortable with Hatano, like they’ve built at least some degree of platonic intimacy. In these ways, it seems like the BL-filming plotline works in favor of Hatano’s relationship with Mob. 

But it also works against it. One of the reasons plots like this are appealing is that characters are put in the position of acting out a romance with someone they would like to be involved with in real life, someone they inevitably think is out of their reach in actuality. A kind of “so close yet so far” dynamic is inherent to the concept (even though in a standard romance it invariably turns out that the object of their affections is more within reach than the person realizes). 

Hatano experiences the “so close yet so far” thing in spades. At first he mostly just seems to be glad to have a reason to be near Mob. The melancholy feelings his character goes through might hit home more than he’d like, but at least he has plenty of personal experience to draw from for his performance. He does succeed in getting better acquainted with Mob, who never would have casually shared a drink with him before in the way he does after filming. But there’s one moment that occurs during filming that's undeniably excruciating.

You know those “angle kisses” that actors sometimes do in dramas, where a couple is shot with one actor seen from behind and the other’s face partially blocked by their costar’s, so that they appear to be kissing but may not be touching at all? Mob and Hatano do an angle kiss in their show and it’s downright heartbreaking. 

At the beginning of the scene, Hatano’s character finally tells Mob’s he has feelings for him. In the process, Hatano gets to look Mob right in the eye and say exactly how he really feels about him. Not that he’s struggled to do so as himself in the past—after all, this is the guy who just ran up to Mob and said “Suki desu” when he saw him for the first time in eight years—but it’s an opportunity regardless. Hatano’s character then gets up to leave as if he’s so certain his feelings aren’t returned that there's no point in waiting for a response, Mob’s character grabs his arm, stops him, and tells him he likes him back. This moment is already bound to be a horrible mixed bag for Hatano. The man he loves is looking into his eyes and saying he has feelings for him, but it’s all for the cameras. 

Then Mob tugs on Hatano’s arm and he stumbles closer. Mob moves nearer and holds Hatano by the shoulder as he comes in for the angle kiss and it’s devastating. It’s not just that they aren’t really kissing. It’s way worse than that. When shot from the side, it’s possible to tell just how far apart Mob and Hatano really are, to see how their faces are turned in entirely opposite directions. Hatano doesn’t show a ton of super obvious emotion here—after all, he’s being filmed and he’s supposed to be in character as someone who is having a real first kiss with the object of his affections—but his expression is unmistakeably strained. 

That’s the last shot of the BL, so production wraps. Hatano starts giving Mob lovey-dovey looks before they’re even done being presented with their end-of-the-shoot flowers, and Mob starts wincing and looking stressed out. The more serious, less self-consciously reflexive tone of the BL shoot still lingers for a while longer, intermittently. Mob’s voiceover comes back in fits and starts at first, then re-establishes itself near the end of the finale. 

There are a few ways to look at the effects of the BL-filming storyline. If you think about it from Hatano’s perspective, by the end of shooting he has grown a bit closer to Mob in some ways and has had a chance to do things with him on camera that Mob wouldn’t do with him in real life. But he’s also undergone some seriously painful instances where the closeness his character has with Mob’s is a sad reminder that Hatano hasn’t achieved, and may never achieve, the same degree of intimacy with Mob. Then, while he’s still processing that whole situation, his attempt to confess again is thwarted when some guy shows up out of nowhere who appears to have some kind of history with Mob (i.e. Kikuchi). When he ends up at such a point after all of his efforts, he might conclude that the whole thing was a net loss. 

But if you take a step back and look at the way Hatano functions in the story, there are some signs that it could work in his favor. Basically, during the show-within-a-show portion of the finale, Hatano is put more in the role of a typical BL protagonist than he ever was before. The fact that Mob’s voiceover commentary pauses gives the audience a break from being inside Mob’s head, set up to closely identify with him all the time. It allows our affiliations and sympathies to be more free-floating. Meanwhile, Hatano is in a good position to attract our attention and garner sympathy. His role in the BL parallels his own situation with Mob (there are still differences, but the overall theme of pining for a guy who looks exactly like Mob is pretty strong). As we watch the scenes he and Mob act in, we can’t help but feel for his character and then for Hatano himself as we inevitably recall those parallels. And of course, that angsty angle-kiss scene is the pièce de résistance.

Does it actually matter that Hatano is able to appear more like a relatable BL protagonist to the audience? It’s hard to say. Mob believes that main characters have certain attributes and that they make things happen in his world, including making the people they’re interested in more likely to return their feelings. It’s a little unclear whether it has this sort of effect when we, the audience of Mob’s show, see Hatano more like a protagonist of a BL. But it might. If so, you could argue that experiences like this increase the chances that Hatano will manage to rope Mob into a romance eventually. 

If Hatano really is different, does it matter? 

So, I've been talking this whole time about what makes Hatano different from other guys who have pursued Mob. There are a few important ways in which he and Kikuchi both stand out from the crowd. Most importantly, both continuously pursue Mob over time and both have had specific experiences with him and notice actual attributes he has instead of liking him for absurdly random reasons and forgetting about him after one attempt to attract his interest. Both Hatano and Kikuchi have an appropriately greater kind of status in Mob’s life as a result of these differences and Mob treats them accordingly. 

Hatano also has some distinctions Kikuchi doesn’t. He has a few strategic advantages. He’s bold, he makes moves and then runs away before Mob can respond, and he makes use of the advantages of their age gap. There are also some more important considerations. Hatano has loved Mob longer than anyone else, by a large margin. (It's not as if you can call "dibs" on a person, of course. But it does mean something.) He seems to be at least partially aware of the way Mob breaks the fourth wall and even pulls Mob into his own daydream somehow. We don’t know why these things happen, but one explanation is that he has a particular kind of connection with Mob. His protagonist-like qualities when he films the BL with Mob may also suggest that he has the kind of main character powers that could overcome Mob’s attempts at resistance. 

But does this mean that Mob, a character whose entire reason for existence is eluding L with a B, is actually likely to get together with him? Would that be a good thing? Both questions are debateable. Personally, the main thing I want is for Hatano to continue to give Mob a hard time. I want him to really put him through the paces for as long as Mob continues to resist him. And if Mob does ever get caught, then unless another character comes along who is at least as compelling as Hatano and has comparable claims on Mob's affections, I hope Hatano is the one who catches him. If the series ends at a point where the show's creators are able to intentionally write a series finale, I think it's possible that having Mob finally get caught by a worthy opponent could be a good ending. But I hope he continues his fight against the world of BL for at least a good while longer. At least...for three more years.

[lov3rachan]

Leave

“Oh baby please stop for me” - Leave, Stray Kids

Summary: As you leave the year behind and brace yourself for what is to come, DanceRACHA looks back on your love story.

Warnings: cheesy references to the song “Leave” and “As we were”, slightly angsty but not really

With the same concept: nothing but here are other end-of-the-year themed drabbles

Genre: Fluff, slight angst, gender neutral (you/your),

Comment: I wish you a happy New Year! To be honest I had a Christmas-New Year series of one-shots planned but I couldn’t get around it, sorry! The original title was “Leave” but I changed it to Seungmin’s song cause I liked that idea and then it was back to “Leave”. Hope you like this!

Requested by: no one

Written: 30.12.2024-31.12.2024

[ 31/12 - 23:00 ]

Lee “Know” Minho

Minho was petting his cats, taking a break.

He remembered back when he met you.

You were nothing more than a passerby in his life.

Another one in a million.

Somehow he found himself falling in love with you, despite his disdain for the feeling.

Soon enough, you became one in a million.

Everything you did charmed him.

Slowly but surely, Minho's grumbling became for show.

His mind and heart were set on you but his mouth kept resisting, despite his best efforts.

When he finally let himself be loved by you… he had never felt better.

He began being nervous, jealous and clumsy around you.

But he also let you influence him, help him into a self he liked much better.

With the end of the year approaching he was filled with bittersweet worry.

Perhaps, his happiness was going to slip away, like sand.

Perhaps the clock was counting down to his loneliness’ comeback.

No matter what, he knew that the memories you two had made would never fade.

“Please though, my love: don’t leave”

Lee Felix Yongbok

Felix was baking, gleefully mixing the ingredients as music filled the room.

As you entered the kitchen, his face brightened and he smiled widely.

“Hi sweetheart! I’m making brownies!” He told you.

You slipped in between him and the table, staring curiously at the chocolate powered he had made.

With a mischievous smile, Felix pressed his chocolate covered finger against your nose, with a playful “boop!”.

As you two giggled, his gaze fell on the clock.

It was almost midnight.

Felix could feel the excitement for the New Year building up, though he was also a bit scared: what if it was worse than the year he had lived with you?

Nevertheless that thought was fleeting and his mind went back to the present.

Inside he begged the clock, time: ‘Please, stop for me’.

Hwang Hyunjin

Hyunjin knew that emotions and feelings could be fickle.

As he let you run your hand through his hair he thought about it a lot.

He was one to let emotions ge the best of him, to follow his whims.

He loved you and he knew that he wanted your relationship to last but a tiny part of him was terrified.

He was worried that your love for him would fade away.

He was scared to lose the beautiful feeling being with you gave him.

As midnight approached, however, he took a stroll through memory lane, through the moments you spent together.

By the end of it, as you got up from the couch, he smiled.

He was never going to stop loving you.

It was deep rooted like his love for art.

Loving you had become part of his soul, carved into his very being.

All he could hope for, this coming year, was for you to feel the same.

‘Let’s run through time together’ he thought, as his gaze followed you, before getting up and joining you.

[blackcherryvelvet0909]

Twitterpated (Vil x Rook)

Note: This piece takes place during Vil and Rook's first year at NRC

Silken skin; sun-kissed hair,

Cascading into a lavender wave;

Beautiful eyes, with an enrapturing stare; 

All of him, I achingly crave. 

I come on bended knee, 

And ask, plead to the beauty,

“My all, I beseech thee:

Bid me to do your every duty. 

Use me as you see fit;

My life and soul,

Every single bit,

I give myself whole.

I will follow you,

To any inch of earth; 

Anything, I will do, 

To prove to you my worth. 

Beauty, it is you I love;

My king, the truth lays bare, 

From hells below to heavens above,

I am forever yours, mon cher. 

Birds chirped high in the trees and atop sprawling buildings, accompanied by the rustle of leaves and distant chatter. The man knelt before the bench breathed not a word as he awaited the beauty’s response. It was a sweet kind of torture, not knowing what he would say. Though a rejection, perhaps a swift kick of a heeled shoe, would wound him so, with it would bring its own form of beauty. No matter the outcome of this bold proclamation, Rook would take it gracefully as any man could. He kept his smile and gaze aimed at the man before him, waiting patiently, with bated breath. 

The response he received was not what he expected at all. “It needs work,” commented the vision sitting elegantly upon the bench seat. “The pacing was a tad off, as well as some of the verb tenses. If you would write the poem down, we can go over it to see where you can improve.” 

Ah, so he thought Rook was presenting him with a simple poem. Vil Schoenheit, the man who the Savanaclaw first year had been smitten with the moment he laid eyes on him, believed Rook was silently asking for feedback and advice. This was not the first advance the beautiful young man unknowingly rejected; Rook surmised a guess that it was far from the last. A feeling of disappointment took hold around Rook’s heart, yet it was combined with a sense of admiration. To think this prodigy of the stage would so willingly offer him aid - ah! Magnifique! He oh-so loved him. 

Despite the dismay burrowing in his gut, Rook’s smile morphed into a grin. He rose from his place on the paved path and put his hat, which remained over his heart for the duration of his confession, atop his head. The first year did it in such a manner that it would not obscure his sight. Rook didn’t want to tear his gaze from the beauty. “Merci, Roi du Poison! Rest assured I will hang onto every word.”

Vil’s smirk took the hunter’s breath away. “Are you certain you won’t be distracted? Your eye does tend to wonder when something interests you.” 

Nothing could interest me more than you, ma beaute - is what Rook yearned to say. However, as the actor still appeared unaware of his true affections, he didn’t dare utter the words aloud. “I swear on my life that I will not stray from your teachings.” 

Vil let forth a small giggle, accentuated by his hand coming up to lightly cover his mouth. And he did it so gracefully, too. Ah! Rook could feel himself grow faint. No, he must resist! Not only to keep his word, but also to not scare the pretty boy. 

The last time Rook passed out due to an overwhelming show of Vil’s own beauty, Vil had been beside himself with worry. Rook remembered the scolding he received upon his waking fondly. Great Seven, Rook thought he’d died and awakened in the afterlife, being greeted by an angel the moment his eyelids fluttered open. Apparently his grin was so drunken, so lopsided, that the nurse thought him intoxicated. Yes, they were right, in a way. To be enraptured by such an ethereal sight often had that effect on a person. 

Rook watched Vil rise from his seat. He now had to tilt up his head to face Vil, the heels of the beauty’s shoes making him even more taller than he already was. It felt nice to be looked down upon by him. Whether you take that as degrading or not is up to you. Either answer is most likely correct. Vil could spit in Rook’s face and the freckled man would thank him - perhaps, if he were feeling bold, he’d ask for another. Surely you understand? 

“Meet me at the library tomorrow, four p.m. sharp.” Vil slightly tilted his head to the left. “When I’m done with you, you’ll put the common poet to shame.” 

Use me as you see fit - so said Rook when he recited his love poem. He meant that with his whole heart. He nodded eagerly, practically beaming as he said, “Tres bien! Besides my poem, should I bring you anything else? I could bring some of my others.”

For Vil, Rook would do anything. His Roi du Poison need only ask, command, demand - however he might utter the task. Rook Hunt would see it through to the end. He would go so far as to abandon his dorm and become the beauty’s lap dog, should he request it. 

…No, actually. He didn’t have to. Why hadn’t Rook thought of that before? He would start the process that very evening! 

[promenadewithme]

The Viscount Who Deceived Me - Part 2

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | ...

Pairing: Anthony Bridgerton x Fem! Reader, maybe a bit of Benedict Bridgerton x Fem! Reader? (winkwink)

Warnings: angst, fluff, pining, unintentional friend-zone? read at your own risk

Word Count: 2.5K words

a/n: I have decided to turn this into a multiple part series and I really want to know whether you like this or not! All feedback is welcome and wanted.

By some miracle, the... commotion didn't reach any society papers. The Bridgertons, your mama, and the coachman managed to remain silent about the matter. And so did you. In fact, you had been completely silent since the moment you entered that carriage 3 days prior.

You wanted to scream and throw things. You wanted to do anything, have any reaction. However, all the feelings that tore you apart from the inside never reached the surface.

Not until you were alone, in the middle of the night. That was the only moment you allowed the silent tears to fall down your cheeks.

To the whole ton, you and Anthony were still that same engaged, happy, and loving couple who spread hope through the hearts of unwed ladies. Yet, that was no longer the truth of it, maybe it never really was.

Now you knew, but you were once just as fooled as the young souls who believed your love was true.

'There is no such thing.' you thought to yourself.

The blinds were still closed, but the faint light from the candle you had left burning the night before was enough for you to read the Whistledown from the day your heart shattered.

'this isn’t a vantageous marriage, but one of love.'

The phrase was etched into your head, having read it a thousand times already since your mind was restless the entire night, spiralling with theories about Anthony's affair.

'Had it been going on this entire time?'

'Did he ever truly love me?'

'Was I just a pawn in his game or did he realise I was not enough for him somewhere along the way?'

A soft knock at your door pulled you from your thoughts and had you lifting your head slightly from the pillow. Your mama walked in with the 'pity smile'. That's what you had decided to call it.

Ever since the night it happened, your mother would look at you with her head slightly tilted to the side, shoulders inward, and a pained look on her face that could only be considered a smile seeing that her mouth was slightly turned upward. It would have made you laugh, were you not in your constant state of heartache and misery.

"Good morning, my dear." she greeted, removing a stray hair from your face, and continued towards the curtains before asking "How are you this morning?"

You cringed at the sudden light and sank your head back to the pillow with a grunt.

Your mother huffed before strutting determinately to you.

"Today you shall leave this room." she said, removing your covers.

"Mother, please-" you started, but she cut you off.

"I have given you time to grieve for your broken heart, but it has been three days. This is the first time you have even spoken. It is time to stand up, hold your head high."

She grabbed your hands and gave you an encouraging smile.

"He said he loved me..." you whispered, eyes welling up again.

Your mother sat down with a sigh and wiped away a fallen tear. Leaning into her hand, you thanked the Lord for having a mother that was also a friend.

"My dear child," she felt her own tears threaten to fall "it pains me to see you like this."

"I am so sorry, mama..." you sobbed "I am sorry for not being good enough."

"Don't you say that!" she scolded, then added softly "Don't you dare say that."

You sniffled as she pulled you into her embrace.

"You are everything, my dear. You are beautiful. You are kind. You are courageous. You are well read. You are everything a mother, a friend or a husband could ever ask for and more." holding your shoulders, she tried to make you see, but you persisted.

"But I was not enough for Anthony."

"Anthony Bridgerton is a rake and a fool!" she exclaimed and you shushed her.

"You mustn't say such things. Word could go out about our broken betrothal."

"That is precisely what I have come to speak to you about." she said, eyes darting to the side before coming back to yours "Do you truly wish to end your betrothal?"

"Mama!" you shot up and she followed suit.

"Surely, you know that a love match is a rare occurrence. Men are never faithful to their wives and, as much as I truly believe you deserve only the best, we need be realistic."

"You mean to say that I should marry him only to be sent off to the country to live in eternal loneliness and misery while he lives a happy life with his mistress here in the city?" you gasped "What about everything you have just said?"

"My dear, I mean all that I have said to you, but being Viscountess... You will have a good life, a comfortable life. Most of us cannot have the luxury of waiting for true love to come around. I should not be telling you this, but..." she paused and lowered her voice "Your father is set on marrying you to Lord Hughes after what happened with your betrothed."

"Hughes?" you fell back on the bed "But he is older than Papa!"

'This cannot be happening.' you thought desperately.

"It is why I am telling you to make amends with the Bridgerton boy. None of them will be loyal to you and I wish that I could change it, but at least he is younger and doesn't have 3 deceased wives that died of mysterious causes."

"You and I both know that there is nothing mysterious about being pushed down the stairs." you were heaving "There must be another way, I..."

Your hand shot up to your stomach, as if that would stop the nausea.

Everything was wrong, everything was falling apart. If you could only turn back time and...

'What could I have done differently?' you pondered.

'Not fallen for Anthony? Maybe accepted the affections of any other gentleman? Who could tell if anything would be different or if all men are the same?'

You stood up with a determined gleam in your eyes.

"Mama, send for quill and paper. I shall have tea with the Bridgertons." you decided as you walked to your closet.

The moment your carriage pulled up to the Bridgerton house, Eloise came running out. Your valet opened the door and you were engulfed in a tight hug. The comforting smell of old books and something woodsy crowded your senses and you wrapped your arms around your friend.

"I never thought I'd see you again." she whispered against your hair "Thought my bedswerver of a brother had ruined us forever."

You pulled away to look into her eyes "Nothing could ever ruin us. We are best friends, it would take a whole lot more to chase me away from you."

She smiled and pulled you along "We best get inside, it is much too cold and the tea is already brewing."

Taking a deep breath and fixing your newest sapphire blue dress, you followed her into the familiar house. Your families had been connected since your infancy. The Dowager Viscountess had been a close friend to your mother ever since she had first wed the late Viscount Bridgeton. Your grandmama had taught them both all there was to know about being a good wife.

'I suppose it mustn't have been that hard to please someone who was head over heels in love with you already.' you thought.

You were only a child when Edmund Bridgerton passed, but you, as well as everyone else in the ton, would always remember the love between him and his wife.

A love you thought Anthony would have had with you.

Eloise pushed open the door to the drawing room where only her mama and Daphne sat. You sighed a breath of relief and curtsied.

"My dear girl." Violet stood and gave you a hug "I never expected to see you so soon, but I am glad you are here."

Her warm smile eased you, despite the ache you felt. His smell was here, his very essence in this house. You wanted so badly to hate him, but your good memories betrayed you.

Ice skating in the lake by the house, having ice cream at the parlour, horseback riding in the park, laughing until your stomach hurt, passing touches during balls.

“I cannot think of anything else, Siena.” he whispered before kissing her neck.

"One last night to remember.” he kissed her again.

The memories were like a slap and you fell back into reality, Violet's face replacing them.

"It is a pleasure to see you again, Viscountess Bridgerton." you bowed your head.

"Please, my child. We are past that, I have told you time and time again to call me Violet." she caressed your arm with the tenderness of a mother.

"Forgive me, Violet..." you took a deep breath in and prayed to God that your tears only fell at home "Is Anthony home?"

"He left early this morning with a horse, but-"

As if sensing his presence being summoned, the doors to the drawing room flew open and Anthony walking in with searching eyes. They landed on you and he strode in your direction.

It looked like he was going to hug you, but he stopped less than a foot from you and took a step back.

"(y/n), I-" he started, but you could not bare to hear him, so you halted his words with a hand on his.

"My lord, I wish to apologise." you said bowing your head in what might have looked like a submissive stance, but was actually you swerving his piercing gaze.

"What?" exclaimed Eloise.

Anthony started speaking again, but you had to finish saying what you came to say. You had it all planned out in your mind and if you didn't go through with your speech, it might all go to ruins.

"I over-reacted. I know most men take on lovers before and during wed-lock, it is a normal occurrence and I had no right to condemn you for it." Bile rose up your throat, but you continued "I ask you to take me back, if you will still have me."

"Have you gone mad?" Eloise shook your shoulders.

"Please," you whispered, eyes stinging with unshed tears "Let me do this. I will explain everything later."

Your best friend looked disappointed, but took a step back. Your heart sunk even further into your chest.

Looking back at Anthony, you asked again "Will you have me, my lord?"

Eyebrows furrowed as ever, mouth agape with unspoken thoughts, he nodded once and pursed his lips in a frown.

You let out a pent up breath and forced a smile "I shall see you at the Cowper ball this evening, then?"

"Yes, but (y/n)-"

"I must go, I have a fitting at the modiste for tonight."

With a brief curtsy, you fled the room. Turning to run down the stairs, you bumped into Benedict.

"Whoa." he grabbed the handrail with one hand and your waist with the other to keep you both from falling.

Your chest bumped into his and you looked up, tears blurring your sight.

"(y/n)?" his voice sounded surprised. You could not see his face, but you would wager those expressive eyes of his also were. "What are you doing here? Why are you crying? What did he do?"

His thumb caught a fallen tear and he cupped your face, slowly stroking your cheek.

"Who do I have to beat up? Besides my dalcop brother, of course." he joked with that side smile of his and you answered with something between a laugh and a sob.

"Me. I fear the culprit is me this time."

His brows furrowed and you elaborated "I came to ask for your brother's forgiveness and if he would still have me."

His finger stopped "What?"

"It is a long story." you sighed, holding his arm.

"I have time." he offered and you smiled.

Truly smiled for the first time in 3 days.

"Very well, then. Walk me home?"

He offered his arm and answered "It would be my pleasure."

You took it and you both walked down the stairs and out of the house in comfortable silence.

"Do you remember old Hughes?" you asked and the Bridgerton twisted his face.

"The one who smells like a chimney and was around since before christ?"

You laughed "That's the one."

"What about him?" Ben asked and you stopped walking to look at him.

"After what happened with Anthony, my father started thinking of offering him my hand."

"Hughes?" he gasped.

"So, it was either asking if Anthony would still have me or marrying the oldest and most disgusting man this town has ever seen." You started walking again.

"That's not true." He murmured.

"What do you mean?" You asked.

"There are countless other men who want your hand. Men who would treat you better than both of them. Love you like you deserve to be loved."

You saw your house and slowed your steps. Without any siblings, the closest thing you had to family, beside your mother, were the Bridgertons. They felt like home.

This felt like home.

"Well, if you know any, send them my way." you smiled softly, then added solemnly "My father insists on me getting married since I have already been out for 3 seasons. I have no other choice. If I did, I..."

You both stopped in front of your house, the sharp scent of geranium from your mother's garden invaded your nose.

"I don't know what I'd do. I don't even know if I believe in love anymore." you sighed in defeat.

"I don't believe that." said Benedict, holding your hands in his "You? Are we talking about the same person? The one who has read romance novels since always, picks wildflowers for her bedroom, stops to feel the wind against her hair, cries at the opera, and spends more time daydreaming than awake in the present?"

You smiled sheepishly and looked at your shoes. Benedict wouldn't have that. He put a finger under your chin and lifted your head.

His eyes were soft when he said "You are love personified. Nothing and no one will ever take that away. Any man would be the most fortunate being in this earth to spend the rest of their life by your side."

You were speechless as he kissed your hand and turned to leave.

You grabbed his arm before he could go "That was the most beautiful thing anyone has ever said to me"

When he only looked down with a smile, you continued "I wish I could hug you without it being improper, you are like a brother to me after all."

"Well," his eyes fell "we all wish for things we cannot have."

Benedict lowered his lips to your hand in a lingering kiss.

"I will see you tonight."

Then he left.

a/n: this was initially just going to be a one part Anthony Bridgerton angst fic. However, I got so many request on part 1 to continue this, so I started thinking about where this could head and I have so much to write for this already. I absolutely pouring my heart and soul into this series for the past few days, so please tell me if it's good or absolute shit.

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People who asked for Part 2: @snixx2088 @acourtofbooksandfantasy @alldaysdreamer @dandansdays @freyagallileaevans @alldaysdreamers @lizziesfirstwife @theonewithallthemilkshakes @freyathehuntress @ilovehopelessromantics @venomsvl

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[blue-sky336]

Unresolved Feelings

Hobie has been nothing but nice to you, sadly, you can't return the favour

Warnings: angst, mention of death, canon events, bit of a Gwen x reader, but also Hobie x reader

"I can't even look at him Gwen." Your words came out trembling, eyes watering. "I can't look at him or talk to him. I-.. I can't go on another mission with him. I almost got us killed!" Your rambling was neverending. The look in your eyes sent chills down the Spider-Woman spine. Not once has she seen you so distraught. Dark bags covered your cheeks, pupils small and hair a mess. Your clothes were the same that you wore yesterday, meaning you probably slept in them.

"It's okay. We can talk to Miguel.. He'll understand." She said your name so softly, hands coming to rest upon your shaking shoulders. A hiccup slipped past your swollen lips and you almost started crying again. "I'm sure we can fix this." Gwen offered a sympathetic smile, thumbs wiping away any stray tears that dared to fall down your soft cheeks. "Come on, let's get you in some clean clothes and brush your hair. Then we can go talk to him, okay?" Her words were so sincere and comforting that you couldn't help but be embarrassed about your sudden emotional outbursts.

You nodded.

While getting ready, with Gwen pulling some clothes out for you to put on and helping you brush back your hair, you were completely lost in your thoughts. Hobie came to mind and the memories followed.

Hobie was your canon event. In your universe you worked as a variation of spider-man. Hobie was your best friend, your ride or die, the person you promised to look after no matter what; and you failed him. In a moment of quick thinking where you could have prevented his death, you faltered and instead, he ended up 6ft underground. The memories left a cool shudder running down your spine. Goosebumps formed across your arms and the hair at the back of your neck stood at attention.

"He won't understand, Gwen. This is useless." You spoke quietly, rubbing your face as if that was going to get rid of your eye bags. "This isn't going- you know what Miguel is like! If anything this will make it worse." You huffed through your nostrils.

Gwen just shook her head an rolled her eyes. "You're a pessimist." She sighed softly, squeezing your hand ever so gently. "I promise it will be fine."

Of course, by the time you had made it to Miguel's 'office' you were feeling a little bit better. Gwen had reassured you that Miguel might listen and you wouldn't have to see Hobie again. Part of that pained you.

The conversation went.. okay. As okay as it could go. You were now free from any interactions with Hobie Brown. You felt so conflicted.. Gwen understood your pain. Seeing such a close friend die and then to be confronted with that same person.. but not your own version is traumatizing. The amount of unresolved trauma that comes back is overwhelming; no wonder you wee getting no sleep.

On the way back to the lobby you were confronted with this unresolved feeling. The same punk rocker that you had been actively avoiding was marching his way towards you, a slight frown on his hollowed face. Your heart was racing, your head almost spinning. He stood in front of you and yet you couldn't move. Your feet were frozen, eyes staring into the deep brown of his own. You felt like crying again, but nothing came out.

"You've been avoiding me."

His words didn't come out as harsh or controlling, but rather concerned.

"Get out of my way."

"That doesn't change the fact that you've been avoiding me." Hobie said your name in the same way that your version did. Your shoulders shook slightly, head hung lowly.

"It doesn't fucking matter- okay? You didn't do anything! So get out of my way, Hobie!" Your words were harsh. Your tone was conflicting against your thoughts. No matter how much you wanted to run into those familiar lanky arms or playfully flick his chin, you couldn't, because this man wasn't your Hobie. The Hobie in front of you was a stranger. One that you only had superficial feelings too, and one that you could never be nice to.

The pained look he gave you made your heart ach within your chest. He didn't say anything and just stood to the side, taking a step out of your way. Your mouth moved but no words came out. Instead you forced your feet to move before you did anything that could have been even more stupid than your outburst. You left him standing there with your head now held high in an attempt to seem strong.

Hobie could see through your act. You couldn't fool him.