#and she said that he looked like Gaston

[multifandomsimagine]

andrew garfield

— kc 🩷

send me your celebrity crush and i’ll rate them

i don’t see the appeal not my type they’re okay i see the appeal but i’m different™ cute but on alternating wednesdays they have a kind face and that’s good enough pretty gorgeous i— i love? we don’t deserve them

You have no idea how much I love this man

[envy-of-the-apple]

pretty please—a beauty & the beast au except reader is the beast??? and pretty boy gojo/geto is oh so helplessly 'trapped' in said 'beast's castle? and reader (or shall we call her Ms. Beastie) wants nothing to do with 'em and is sulking about her curse. she very openly tells him to leave if he'd like, but for some reason he sticks around like some bugger. i'd love to see your take on this au, please and thank you :3 it would also be very funny to throw furry accusations at gojo/geto, but maybe that's js me loll

oh! how about Miss beast thinks Gojo is beauty, but he's actually Gaston.

You find him out in the snow, half-dead, surrounded by wolves. Maybe its your remnant of humanity left, but you take him back to your castle and nurse him back to health.

As soon as he wakes up, he's a nuisance. Cocky, full of himself. Even when he's too weak to feed himself, he's shamelessly flirting when you're feeding him yourself. At times, you have to hold yourself back from dumping the soup on his face.

You hate him. Mostly because he reminds you of yourself. He's egotistical and selfish, and what you used to be like before the curse. It's jealousy too. He has flawless skin and isn't covered in disgusting hair.

He mocks you, lying to you. Tells you you're beautiful when you and him can both see the claws. The teeth. You hate him.

You've had enough when he tells you he loves you.

You kick him out when he's fully healed. He stays right outside your gates for hours, but you don't care. You need him gone. You needed to forget what you could have been.

He leaves later that day; he returns with an army.

He's talked about his village before, but you never once thought he's something like a prince there too. Fighting against Gojo would have been easy. Trying to hold off 20 men with spikes and daggers?

You stand no chance. You're tied up like the animal you are, dragged out of your castle like a hostage.

He's not scared of you. That's another thing you hate about him. From the day he first saw you, he's never been afraid. Even when your growl and thrash within your binds, he coos like you're a sweet puppy.

His endgame becomes clear when he brings in the witch you saw a century ago. She looks worse for wear, courtesy of Gojo's minions. It takes next to nothing for Gojo to get her to undo the spell. Your binds get looser, as do your clothes. your fur disappears, its replaced by skin. Human skin. You're back.

A few days ago, you would've been happy.

Now, reduced from a beast to a mere pet, you can only watch in horror as Gojo's grin gets more feral.

You realize too late that it wasn't a curse, it was protection from the real beasts.

[infiniteimaginings]

Hello there! I was wondering if maybe you could write something for Carlos de Vil and Chad from Descendants? (if it could be poly, but before they were dating iykwim, I'd be very grateful!) The thing is that the reader is the daughter of Gaston (twin sister to Gil, but she hung out with Mal and her gang when in the isle) and the reader is just everything a "lady should be". (Gaston is her father so she was kind of raised to be a housewife with the strenght to fight for herself given the need). like knows how to cook very well, is very affectionate, always hanging onto their every word (also always holding their hand or hanging from their arm), knows how to sew and definetely loves spoiling them with kisses and affection. And they just have this petty banter of fighting for reader's affection and attention and being this whiny pair of goofballs that just want their girlfriend to pay them attention. And reader is just like so loving with them <333

Playful Competition (Carlos De Vil x Fem!Reader x Chad Charming)

Summary: Your boyfriends love your attention, this is how they get it and react to it. Pronouns: You/Yours, She/Her Warnings: None Word Count: 2.1k A/N: I did like, Reader is dating both of them, but Carlos and Chad aren't dating (yet). I hope that's what you meant. Also, this ended up going into a different direction that I thought it would, it's fluff just, not how I expected the fluff to be lol! Turned more into chad and carlos loving you and arguing over you a bit <3333

Auradon Prep had an amazing tourney team, and they played on a pretty big field where the students of the school could fill the stands and yell for their favorite team members. This isn’t about the team necessarily, it’s about two of the players on said team.

Number twenty three, Chad Charming, and number one hundred and one, Carlos De Vil. Two players who absolutely couldn’t stand each other. They could barely keep their arguments off the field, almost bringing their team down completely, but they knew how to keep it down for that at least.

They argued about everything, nit-picked each other, on and off the field, and found each other's weak spots to hit harder than anywhere else. There wasn’t a moment where the two of them were together that didn’t end with them at each other's throats.

That was until they met you. 

You were light to their dark days, you were the peace to their war, you were everything to the two boys. 

Just because they loved you, didn’t mean their petty arguments ended.

After games they would both wave to you.

Chad would lock his sights on you the moment the game ended. He would give you a small wave and when you noticed he would salute. After saluting he would wink and blow you a kiss that would make your heart flutter.

Carlos on the other hand would search through the stands, whipping his head left and right because out of his own excitement of you being there, he forgot where you were sitting. When he finally met your eyes he would jump up and down, waving his arm energetically in a big wave. 

They argued half the game, but ironically they were standing next to each other after it when waiting for you to approach them. 

When you finally reach through the crowd, you wrap your arms around them, bringing them down a bit so they could hug you with one of their arms. You would give them compliments, kiss their cheeks, praise them, and more.

When you spoke to Chad he would tell you about how the coach praised him for the plays, he would ask you for your opinion on how well he played. You would attach yourself to his arm, looking up at him as he spoke, nodding as he told you about the plays.

When you finished you would look at the energetic boy next to the two of you, ready for him to tell you everything he wants. 

Carlos was practically jumping up and down, asking if you saw him do anything cool, if you cheered for him, how exhilarating it all was. You would ruffle his hair and hold his hands as he spoke with bright eyes, telling him all about how you saw him on the field.

Both boys would wonder who you would walk off with. They wondered that because Carlos hung out with the VKs, and Chad hung out with the other students of Auradon Prep.

How did they convince you to go with them this time?

Chad wrapped his arm around you with a grin, placing a sweet kiss to the lobe of your ear, “The team is having a celebration tonight for the win, wanna go get ready for it with me, Princess?”

Typically, this would win you over, if it was any other day. 

This time you smiled and tried not to lean into him, “Maybe you should shower first and then we could all go together!” You suggested happily, holding both of their hands.

When you looked at Chad, Carlos was behind you sticking his tongue out. He knew Chad was just trying to pull you away for himself, like always, so your suggestion was truly a blessing.

Chad hid his eye twitching with a smile and hummed, “Of course, Carlos come on, we’re sweaty.” He spoke sweetly, putting Carlos in a friendly enough looking headlock, physically removing him from your area.

You waved with a small laugh, “I’ll see you guys at the party!”

This wasn’t a one time event, it would happen every single day. Whether you were picking a partner, wanting to go shopping, studying, etc. They always found a way for it to be only one of them. 

Though they tried their best, sometimes it was the three of you. They couldn’t be mad at it because your smile when all of you were together made it all worth it.

You were currently in the kitchens of the schools, baking something for the two of them to share. You had placed one of the portions into the oven and decided to take a break, sitting down at one of the tables, pulling a sweater out of your bag as well as your sewing kit.

Carlos put his head on your shoulder behind you, “What’re you doing?” He asked you with a small hum, eyeing your material.

You shimmied your shoulder, the feeling of his chin moving tickled you a bit so you really couldn’t help it. “Ben ripped one of those jackets he has to wear to important, fancy parties.” You explained, holding up the royal blue suit jacket encrusted with gold thread and buttons.

Chad flipped through one of your recipe journals as he listened to the conversation from the seat next to you. “You mean the one he wears to balls?”

You nodded and hummed a small, “Mhm!” in response, beginning to sew the large rip closed.

You sewed in silence as the boys watched you, watched as your hands moved with expertise, as you didn’t even break a sweat. 

Chad chewed the inside of his cheek before looking up to your expression, “How long have you had that sewing kit?”

That question broke your concentration a bit, so you placed the tools down. “Since I was young.” You answered with a nod, standing and patting yourself down to check on the baked goods.

“Did your dad give it to you?”

Before you could answer, a gentle smile spread onto Carlos’s face as he watched you. “I did.” He answered for you, and you nodded in response.

“Carlos also got me the cooking set I’m using!”

Chad eyed the colorful cooking set, the mixing bowls, the rolling pins, the cookie cutters, the cutting board, the entirety of the tools you were using. He didn’t know why but he suddenly felt a bubble of annoyance in his stomach.

He let out a small huff, standing up a bit, “Carlos, I need to talk to you really quickly.”

Carlos raised a brow, “Okay? What do you want?”

“Outside.” Chad spoke quietly through gritted teeth, gesturing to you with his head as a signal of sorts.

The white haired boy rolled his eyes and stood, “We’ll be back!” He told you, walking out the door. 

You yelled out an “Okay!” before turning back to your tasks.

The blonde prince followed the VK outside and when Carlos stopped, Chad kept walking, grabbing Carlos by his wrist and continuing on.

Again, just because they loved you, didn’t mean that their petty fights and stupid arguments just ended. That was exactly why the two boys were at the edge of the tourney field, glaring at one another.

“How did you know to get her that?”

“Why wouldn’t I know what she likes?” Carlos asked, crossing his arms and shaking his head. He knew what this was about, it was about that kitchen set he got you. It was a magical cooking set, nothing spilled, nothing stuck to them, it wouldn’t burn or break, he thought you would like it and you did. 

“Reminder, I’ve known her way longer than you have, so I don’t exactly have to wrack my brain to remind myself of what she enjoys.” He told the blonde, his facial expression supporting his unimpressed tone. Carlos had known you for years, since the Isle, he knew you better than almost everyone. He knew you in ways that Chad never would.

Chad tilted his head, “Oh, really?” He asked with a scrunch of his nose, “Yet, I started dating her first.” He spoke with a small smirk, “So, who was it that…” He began to chuckle, “charmed her?” He asked, eyes narrowing.

A scowl began to form on Carlos’s freckled face as he sucked on his teeth. “I know what she likes.” The white haired boy spoke seriously, dropping his arms to his side as he reminded Chad of the true conversation that he was dragged there for, “You want to know how I know?”

“Please, do tell.”

“I knew she liked you.” Carlos told him, putting a finger to Chad's chest, “That’s why you started dating her first,” He spoke lowly, “because I liked her so much, to the point I even helped set her up with you.”

Chad was quiet as he watched Carlos’s expression with furrowed brows. The prince looked the boy in front of him up and down, “You-”

“I don’t need you to try and tell me how you’re better than me.” Carlos interrupted, face blank as he backed up. “You love her, I love her, and she loves us.” He continued on, looking away. “That’s all that matters to me, she loves us and I love her so much.” He sighed out, making eye contact again, moving a hand through his hair. 

Chad tilted his head at the sudden speech but continued to listen regardless, curious of where this would lead.

“I would do anything for her, and if that means putting up with you…” Carlos huffed, “I’d do it for a lifetime, just for her to be happy.”

There was silence between the two, they just looked at each other. Wind blew through the air, causing their hair to move within it, pieces of clothing ruffling a bit, but other than that it was silence.

A sudden sharp intake of breath was sounded from Chad, “I know you love her.” He told the white haired boy, looking to the ground. “I never said you didn’t.”

“Then why do you keep being such a jerk about it?” Carlos asked, looking for an answer in Chads evading eyes. “Reminder, you agreed to this.” He spoke harshly, “If you’re not okay with it anymore, tell her, and we’ll figure something out.” 

“What if she breaks up with y-” Chad couldn’t even finish his sentence when Carlos laughed. His laughter brought Chads eyes to meet his in confusion.

“Then she breaks up with me and is happy with you.” Carlos shrugged, “I wouldn’t hold it against her to choose you.” He continued, rubbing the back of his neck, “I wouldn’t even hold it against you.” Carlos spoke, puffing air out of his cheeks. “I just want her to be happy, and honestly you guys are good together.”

“She’s also happy with you.”

“Didn’t say she wasn’t.”

“Your eyes did.” Chad told him, nodding with his own words.

Carlos blinked his eyes, taking a deep breath before laughing once again. “You caught me.” He told the other in front of him, raising his hands in surrender.

Chad noticed how Carlos’s shoulders slumped down, how his eyes seemed tired. After their little ‘competitions’ he never realized that he might've been making Carlos feel like he had to try harder than he actually needed to. He knew that the freckled boy adored you, but he just now realized that even with Carlos trying his absolute hardest just to get your attention, he had to face Chad. Chad who would act smug after every ounce of affection, Chad who would pull you away, Chad who never even gave Carlos a chance.

Carlos waved his hand in front of Chads face bringing him back to reality, “You can’t just zone out mid conv-”

Carlos suddenly went silent when Chad stepped forward and wrapped his arms around him. The prince’s face was in the shorter boys shoulder, hands squeezing him gently, body warm against him.

“What are you doing?” Carlos asked, hands extended in the air to the sides as Chad continued to hold him. “Seriously, what i-”

“We’re happier with you Carlos.” Chad mumbled into his shoulder, holding him tighter.

“You have got to stop interrupting me.” Carlos told him with a small roll of his eyes until a sudden shock hit him. We’re happier with you…

“We?”

“We.”

Carlos stared forward, blinking as he processed the words and the arms around him. He stared forward as he wrapped his own arms around Chad, as his face buried itself into the tallers shoulder. “I’m happier with you guys too.”

Just because they had had petty arguments and unimportant fights….didn’t mean they didn’t like each other.

[sufferu]

Okay, so. This is actually a rather big spoiler for No Refunds, so imma need all of you to hush up about this one when it comes to the current main fic ;)

Anyway — here’s the first draft of a very essential upcoming scene, for all those who wish to see it.

No Refunds Ficlet: March Away From Omelas

____

The five Royal Selection Camps met inside City Hall. Crusch Karsten, flanked by Ferris Argyle and Wilhelm van Astrea. Felt, attended by Rachins, Gaston, Camberley, and the Sword Saint himself. Anastasia Hoshin, with her personal knight and the Captain and Vice Captains of the Iron Fang. Priscilla Barielle, who had elected to witness the ensuing spectacle alone. And of course — Lady Emilia herself, with Beatrice, Otto, Garfiel, and the Oni twins all standing by her side. With a singular exception, nobody else was allowed within the building: they were alone.

That singular exception stood in the middle of the room, of whom a decision now had to be made.

“…I didn’t do anything wrong,” Natsuki Subaru said uncertainly. Why were they all looking at him like that? He wanted to take a step back, but managed to resist the urge just barely. “Priestella is saved now, isn’t it? And— we’ve taken care of five Archbishops of Sin.”

He was objectively correct, about both of those things. As far as the rest of the world was concerned, the Battle of Priestella had ended with zero casualties thanks to his contributions. There had been structural damage to the buildings of the city, sure, and there had been injuries here and there — bruises, gashes, broken bones — but nothing that had been lethal, and likely nothing that was going to be permanent. And of the five Sin Archbishops that had attempted to siege the city — one was dead, and the other four had been successfully captured, awaiting transport to the capital of Lugunica. Nothing like this had ever been accomplished in recorded history. In every sense of the word, Subaru had pulled off a miracle.

But in order to do it, he had—

“How many times?” Julius croaked. Subaru glanced his way, and froze at the look of devastation on his face. “Subaru — how many times was it?”

“I—” Subaru broke off. There was a long, long silence as everyone waited for him to answer. “…Does it matter?” he finally retorted. “I think the results speak for themselves, don’t they? Everyone’s safe, and everyone’s happy! Isn’t that the only thing that really matters, in the end?”

Otto made an indecipherable noise. Nobody looked at him.

“You didn’t answer us,” Wilhelm growled. The raw anger in his voice made Subaru stiffen. “How many times was it?”

When Subaru didn’t answer, everyone knew it was because he didn’t know.

“What a boorish question,” Priscilla scoffed. She was the only one there who looked relaxed, fanning her face gently as she peered at the lot of them from the side of the room. “Subaru saw that there was danger and rose to the challenge. If he bled for it in the meanwhile, what does it matter?”

“‘What does it matter?’” Felt repeated, her quiet voice already glittering with the warning sparks of her growing rage. “Big Bro just — killed himself, again and again, for OUR sakes, and — and ‘What does it matter?’”

“For Subaru, the ultimate sacrifice is a thing that he can make as many times as he wishes, as a means to an end,” Priscilla answered. “He can accomplish great things with his ability. He HAS accomplished great things, even. If I were his liege, I would be rewarding him for his accomplishments, not stifling his potential.”

“‘Stifling his potential’?” Felt repeated, disbelief coloring her voice red. “You’d call him — him DYING, again and again — you’d call it POTENTIAL?”

“Has he not allowed you to witness a miracle, peasant?” Priscilla returned. “Through his efforts, he has brought about a solution that would otherwise never have come to fruition. This is a thing to celebrate, is it not?”

“It is absolutely not!” Mimi cried out. “Mimi didn’t want this! Mimi didn’t want to survive because — because someone did THIS for her sake!”

Felt took a deep breath, clearly trying to maintain her composure. “…Subaru,” she said, directing her words towards the focus of the conversation. “Do you really think that winning the fight today was worth — this?”

Subaru stared back at her like she had grown a second head. “Of COURSE it was,” he scoffed, as if it were the obvious answer. “I’m just one person, and — not even a particularly valuable one at that.” From the corner of the room, Otto stared at him with growing despair. He didn’t even notice. “Sure, it — it sucked a lot, but I did it, and now everyone’s fine! So of course it was worth it.”

Felt swallowed, trying her hardest not to scream. She folded her hands in front of her — a practiced motion, one Reinhard had instilled into her through hours and hours of those stupid etiquette lessons. “And…” she faltered. “And you would do it again, if you felt that it was necessary.”

Subaru visibly flinched at the suggestion, but quickly moved to answer her. “O-Of course I would!” he insisted, his eyes darting around. Nearby, Crusch and Reinhard both stared at something that nobody else could see. “I—I AM still a knight, you know. It’s a knight’s JOB to put others before themselves. And…” He swallowed. “I know I’m not good at it, but if I try hard enough — well. My…circumstances…I mean — I’m in the perfect position to put others before me, right?”

“Because you never have to stop doing it,” Julius realized. “Because even if you die — you don’t have to stop.”

Subaru didn’t realize the surge of devastated nausea that such a realization had inspired in the gut of the Finest of Knights. “Exactly!” he crowed. “That’s exactly right! You see?”

Someone made a horrible strangled sound. Nobody knew who it was, and everyone was too focused on the matter at hand to find out, anyway.

“And if we’re not okay with it?” Felt pressed, trying to ignore the hole that was widening in her gut. “If we don’t want any part of — of an exchange like that?”

“…That’s ridiculous,” Subaru scoffed. “Why would anyone not — want to live? That’s stupid.”

“Why indeed,” Ricardo muttered.

“Maybe it’s not that — that someone doesn’t want to live,” Crusch said, her voice tense. “Maybe it’s that someone doesn’t want their life to be saved through…” She shook her head. “Maybe they consider — other things, to be more important.”

“Like what?” Subaru retorted.

“Honor, maybe,” Crusch said. “Ethics. Dignity. Integrity. Any of the things of which a loss would turn a person into a dog. …You really don’t get it, do you?”

“Valuing the alleviation of momentary suffering over a perfect ending is the way of dogs,” Priscilla replied, her eyes glinting. “If momentary suffering is necessary for a perfect ending, then to undergo it for the sake of fulfilling his duty — that is the sign of a wonderful knight.”

“There are limits,” Felt forced out through gritted teeth. “To what level of ‘momentary suffering’ is acceptable. Not that I’d expect YOU to understand that.”

“Lady Felt—”

“Don’t!” Felt snapped. Reinhard stopped. “Just— don’t. Not now.”

“I’d say it’s a perfectly acceptable level of suffering!” Subaru retorted, raising his voice. “I’m the only one who has to go through it, so I’m the one who gets to decide what’s acceptable, right? That’s how it works!”

“No the FUCK it’s not!” Rachins bellowed, taking a step forward. Reinhard quickly grabbed his wrist, preventing him from marching over to punch Subaru in the face. Rachins didn’t even glance back at him, fixated solely on the object of his rage. “You don’t get it make a choice like THAT when you— when you’re planning something THAT HORRIBLE!” he spat. “Who the fuck would be alright with this?! Just one ultimate sacrifice is hard enough to stomach, but — you can’t even tell us how many times it was! How am I supposed to go forward when I know you— YOU—”

“You might have DIED if I didn’t do anything!” Subaru protested. “If it was you or me— even if I had to choose all of you hundreds of times over, then—”

“How was it your place to make that decision for us?!” Anastasia burst out, uncharacteristically emotional. She hadn’t looked this way even back at the inn. “I didn’t want this!” she cried. “I didn’t consent to this! I never wanted to be complicit in something this awful, and here YOU went and made the choice to — to repeatedly sacrifice yourself for all of us regardless! I didn’t WANT you to do this for me!”

“We weren’t able to do anything,” Ferris managed, white as a sheet. He was gripping his head. “We weren’t able to stop nyew at all. And nyew didn’t stop nyerself, either: the first thing nyew decided to do when the Witch Cult attacked was…” Ferris fixed his gaze on Subaru, glassy with panic and devastation. “So long as nyer a knight, and protecting the country is nyer job— we won’t be able to stop nyew at— at all—”

“Oh like that’s any different than what Reinhard is doing,” Subaru retorted. “What, so him being unstoppable in his role as a Sword Saint is fine, but me using my own ability to act as a knight is crossing a line? How is THAT fair?”

Reinhard flinched violently, taking a step backwards.

“How DARE you make a comparison like that?!” Felt spat, finally snapping and raising her voice to a roar. “HOW DARE YOU?! You wanna know what the difference is, Subaru?! Reinhard being the Sword Saint doesn’t mean we’re all dooming him to fucking KILL HIMSELF for our sakes!”

“I can’t believe you would even SUGGEST such a thing,” Julius snarled, uncharacteristically vicious. “The role of the Sword Saint is a heavy one, yes, but it isn’t in any way the same thing as someone sentencing himself to execution after execution for the rest of —” Could Subaru die a natural death? He didn’t even want to THINK about the concept of an eternity trapped in a fate like this. “— of his natural life! You absolute— how could you even consider—?!”

Reinhard was not allowed to wish for his role as the Sword Saint to be taken away from him. Wishing for for such a thing was as good as poisoning his mind against the kingdom itself. In any case, nobody could ever strip him of his title even if they wanted to: nobody was more suited to the role of the Sword of the Kingdom than Reinhard van Astrea.

But now, he realized with a bolt of absolute clarity— now he was on the outside, looking in. Subaru wasn’t wrong about his curse positioning him in a manner that made him uniquely suited for the role of a knight. But if they allowed him to take that position up once again—

Reinhard thought of himself, and how he was never going to escape his title. He thought of Subaru, who was inches away from thrusting himself into the same position. He thought of an old story about his grandmother and grandfather, and how — just once — a Sword Saint had been set free.

“Subaru—” He tried to say, stepping forward, but Wilhelm held out his arm before anyone else could see what he was doing. Reinhard glanced his way, and saw ice blue eyes glimmering with the conviction of tempered steel.

—Reinhard understood. He stepped back to where he had been a second before.

…He likely wouldn’t have been allowed to be the one to do so anyway. Reinhard van Astrea could not act against the good of the kingdom, no matter who got hurt in the process.

Julius was still speaking. “How do you not understand?!” he shouted, his eyes blazing. “You seem to be thinking of this as— as some sort of— you just don’t get it, do you?! Do you have any idea how—” Horrified. Disgusted. Devastated. Mortified. “—how ANGRY we are with you right now?”

“I mean, I’d probably do it anyway!” Subaru pointed out, folding his arms stubbornly. “Whether I have the title or not, I’m always gonna want to help the people around me, right? You can’t stop me from doing THAT.”

The temperature of the room dropped significantly. Subaru’s eyes widened, his arms springing up to wrap around his chest at the sudden chill. A couple of pairs of eyes flickered to Emilia, who sat motionless in her seat.

“…For nyer own sake,” Ferris hissed, one of those in the room that was utterly unaffected by this cold air. He looked very much like he wanted to murder Subaru on the spot. “I am going to assume that was nyer misguided attempt at cracking a JOKE. But on the off-chance that nyew were being serious, I can assure nyew: we have ways of keeping people alive against their will if nyeed be.” He grinned, his face so sour it looked like it might curdle milk. “Nyew’ve seen me deal with suicidal Witch Cult prisonyers, Subaru-kyun. Do nyew think I’m above treating nyew the way I treated them?”

Subaru took a step back.

“Ignoring the absolutely disgusting moral implications of what you just suggested you planned on doing to yourself for the rest of your life,” Julius said coldly, eyes fixed on Subaru’s face. “You do realize that you just threatened ALL OF US, by saying that you would use time travel to bend reality to your heart’s content regardless of how we feel about it — do you not?” Subaru flinched. “I assumed you were better than that.” Julius rolled his shoulder. “But Ferris is right: if you are NOT better than that, then we can find a way to make sure we don’t have to worry about you deciding to reverse time behind everyone’s backs.”

“The lot of you are being ridiculous,” Priscilla scoffed. “Your wonderful knight saved an entire city almost single-handedly, and you wish to remove him from his post? Sacrifice is a part of life. If you can’t stomach the sacrifice necessary to feed the fire of life, then you are unfit to stand in the light of mine gaze.”

“There’s a fucking limit to the kind of sacrifices a reasonable person should accept!” Felt shot back. “Not like you’d understand a thing about being reasonable, you— you MONSTER. How can you talk about someone ripping himself apart so flippantly?!”

“If ripping oneself apart is what a person wishes to do, then I shall not stand in their way.” She smiled. “Just as there is beauty in war, there is beauty in sacrifice — or in this case, the dance of eternal sacrifice, in service of the greater good.” The Sun Princess frowned down at Felt, who was staring at her with a look of horrified disbelief. “It is not Subaru’s fault if a peasant like you cannot handle how he chooses to live and die,” she said coldly. “If he has made his choice, then he has made it so.”

“That’s vile…” Felt choked out. “Even for you, that is VILE.”

“Personal autonomy has limits,” Crusch said coldly. “If a man’s personal autonomy involves harming others, then he must be stopped. Likewise, if it involves him ripping himself apart, then we have a moral duty to stand in his way. — Especially if he has the gall to declare that it is for OUR sakes.”

“As a knight of Lugunica, I understand the nobility of sacrifice,” Julius said. He did not flinch as Priscilla turned to watch him, nor did he look her in the eye. “But as a knight, I understand the weight of it, as well. Giving up one’s life for a cause is one of the heaviest sacrifices one can make — and it is exactly because of that, that I cannot stand for someone who plans to make that sacrifice so many times in repetition.” He turned to face Subaru, alone in the center of the room, and took a deep breath. “In saving Priestella from the Witch Cult, Natsuki Subaru has fulfilled his duty as a knight once and for all,” Julius declared. “He has made the ultimate sacrifice, and he has done so — many, many times over. Allowing him to continue to do so for the sake of this country would damage the worth of the entire nation, and I refuse to stand for it. That’s all I have to say.”

“I stand by my knight,” Anastasia announced, stepping forward. “We are not animals, and I refuse to live as an animal by depending on someone to harm themselves for me in perpetuity — and I refuse to allow my country to do such a thing, either. And I am no longer willing to wait two years for a decision to be made: Natsuki Subaru will be removed from his role today, or the Anastasia Camp will consider him and all of his allies its enemy.”

“The Iron Fang stands with its employer,” Ricardo added, his voice like steel. “But even without its relationship with the Anastasia Camp, I would never stand for something this disgusting, nor would any organization that I lead. And—” He shook his head, looking very much like he wanted to strangle someone. “And I’d HOPE that if — those who I care about — were thrown into a situation — like THIS — that the people they meet would have the basic decency to refuse the same.”

“Mimi hates this,” the eldest of the Pearlbaton triplets forced out, uncharacteristically enraged. She was scratching at the top of her head, yanking at her orange hair. “Mimi hates everything about this. How dare— how DARE you—”

“We want nothing to do with an arrangement like this,” Hetaro confirmed. “I don’t want to be saved by someone doing — this. It’s sick. I’d rather just die.”

“I don’t want to die,” Tivey muttered. “But if I were to live a life dependent on something like — THIS, I’d be no better than vermin. And I don’t want anyone forcing me into that role, either. We stand with our Lady.”

“The three of us might be vermin,” Rachins growled. “But even WE are above depending on an eternal living corpse for our lives and livelihoods. You can fuck right off with that, Subaru.”

“I wouldn’t call us vermin—” Camberley objected.

“All the more reason, then,” Gaston said firmly. “None of us are gonna accept something this — gross. Ever.”

“I agree with those idiots,” Felt snarled, stepping forward defiantly. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about ‘the greater good’: this is vile, and I would be utter scum if I rolled over and let things continue like this. Thank you for your service, Big Bro: now fuck ALL THE WAY off with this Unsung Hero bullshit.”

“My role as the Sword Saint is a duty granted to me by Od Laguna,” Reinhard managed, both outraged and devastated beyond words by the comparison. “It is a burden that I would not wish upon anyone, but the sole grace of my role is that I have been granted it specifically because my capabilities allow me to fulfill it without — undue sacrifice. For you to try and take something like it upon yourself through the use of a curse this vile…” He shook his head. “I will stand with whatever Lady Felt decides,” the Sword Saint said. “As she is against — everything about this — so am I.”

“Disgusting,” Ferris hissed, bristling. There were tears in his eyes. He shook his head, muttering the same word over and over again. “Disgusting, disgusting, disgusting — Nyatsuki Subaru, I hate nyew so, so much—!”

“To keep Natsuki Subaru as a knight after this would be considered the height of indecency,” Crusch declared. “That is where I stand, as do my Camp and my Estate. Lady Emilia, I must insist that you remove him from his position NOW, or I will render our alliance null and void. That is my ultimatum.”

“This— This really feels like an overreaction!” Subaru stammered, backing away from the sea of anger and devastation. “Didn’t everything work out alright, in the end? Wasn’t it worth it? One life in exchange for all of Priestella—”

“It wasn’t just one life, Subaru,” Ricardo spat. “It was one person, over and over again, who decided all on his own that we were the kinds of ANIMALS that would be absolutely fine resting our lives on — on a fucking monstrosity like that!“

“We didn’t even get a CHOICE in the matter,” Ferris cried. “Nyone of us did. “Nyew just went ahead and decided for nyerself that we’d all prefer this — this utter BULLSHIT.“

“Do you not get what an embarrassment this is?” Julius snapped. “For someone to have stepped in and decided on their own that they’re going to take all the suffering of — of the Royal Selection Camps, of the White Scales of Priestella, of EVERYONE who might have otherwise decided to fight back on their own accord — for them to have stolen that choice away and forced everyone else to accept not just one singular sacrifice, but a string of sacrifices so long that you haven’t even been able to tell us how many deaths make it up! It’s a humiliation of the highest order, because you just forced ALL OF US to be complacent in one of the most monstrous, inhuman scenarios I can imagine.“

“Fuck nyew,” Ferris breathed, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. “Fuck nyew, Subaru. Fuck nyew, fuck nyew, fuck nyew—”

“I really don’t think—!”

“How would you have felt,” Felt interrupted. “If Big Sis had done all of this on your behalf?” Subaru froze. She grinned at him, all teeth and no joy behind her smile. “You’d fucking hate it, right?” she asked cheerfully. “You’d scream, and you’d probably cry. You might even throw up, you’d feel so awful. And if she turned to you and said ‘But I gave you a miracle, aren’t you proud of me?’ I’ll bet you’d want to scream at her for it, too.” She leaned forward. “How DARE you do that to us.” Felt hissed. “How fucking dare you.”

“And to think!” Anastasia laughed. It was a venomous, bitter sound that made Subaru want to recoil. “To think, I actually was starting to believe the others’ insistence that you could be trusted to man your post responsibly!” She stared at him, eyes hard. “I was right about this whole situation from the start. Keeping you as a knight was a ridiculous notion, because — THIS — was always going to be the outcome, one way or another.”

Subaru was speechless. Slowly, with jerky movements, he twisted around to the one camp that had yet to make its final assertion.

“G-Guys…?” he managed.

“Cap—” Garfiel hesitated, and then shook his head. Subaru visibly wilted. “Natsuki Subaru can’t be a knight anymore,” he declared. “This is horrible. I didn’t want this. I never wanted anything like this. If I let him do this for — for MY sake, how could I ever look myself in the mirror again? …And I don’t think he’s ever gonna stop unless we force him away from the edge.”

“This is the absolute worst thing you could have done to me, Subaru,” Ram snapped. “I don’t know how you don’t understand that. I don’t WANT to persist via your acts of self-harm: I’m perfectly happy to live to the best of my ability and accept my death when my time has come to an end. A life of dignity is one that I desire most of all. —And here you are, planning to force me to rely on your trail of self-destruction for the rest of my natural life? That’s a vulgarity beyond words.”

“I really thought you had learned,” Otto muttered. His face was buried in his hands. “I really, really thought you had learned, Subaru.”

Despair slowly dawned across the face of the self-proclaimed knight.

“The old me might have allowed for this,” Rem admitted. Her voice was quiet and broken. “I am not that woman anymore. I won’t let you do this to yourself.”

“Betty doesn’t want her contractor to become a living corpse, I suppose,” Beatrice said quietly. “Betty wants you to be happy, but that also means that she doesn’t want you to destroy yourself. You can hate me for this if you want, Subaru. But I can’t let you — I can’t let you do this.”

Subaru stared at all of them, his upper lip wobbling, and then his eyes flitted to the last person in the room, the one who had not said a single thing since they had entered the building.

Emilia could not bring herself to voice the words, but her silence spoke a thousand in its stead. Subaru made a horrible croaking noise, wide-eyed and devastated.

Wilhelm had to force himself to speak, but when he did, his voice came out loud and clear and true.

“Natsuki Subaru.”

Subaru could no longer be a knight. For him to continue being a knight would be for him to continue to sacrifice himself for the sakes of those around him, over and over again, without regard for whether they wanted him to do so or not. For him to remain a knight would be for the kingdom to approve this cycle of endless self-destruction, so that it could profit off of his pain until the day it finally sucked him dry. —And this could no longer be a decision that waited a year, a month, a day, but rather a move that had to be made as quickly and decisively as possible.

Lady Emilia had already realized what Wilhelm was about to do. Her eyes were glassy and dull, but she bowed her head in assent when he briefly caught her gaze. Do what you must.

For his own good, Subaru could no longer be a knight. However, Emilia firing him after just a year of service would leave a black mark on his record that could last until the end of his life. And with him having saved the Watergate City nearly single-handedly, for him to willingly abandon his duty now would paint him as a fickle, untrustworthy coward for the rest of his life. Titles brought with them expectations and responsibilities, and great deeds even more so. Subaru had somehow entangled him in a web of both that threatened to trap him as the nation’s self-replenishing sacrifice for — in a worst-case scenario, perhaps for the rest of eternity.

“W-Wilhelm?” Subaru whimpered, his voice high-pitched and uncertain.

But there was a way to retire him that would not impact his reputation, or hamper him from pursuing any other future career path he may choose, or even leave him with the majority of the blame. It was the same way that, many years ago, a young man on a mission had set free the woman who would become his wife.

Subaru would hate him for this until the old man’s dying day, and perhaps even beyond that. But Wilhelm loved him, and that meant he valued the quality of the boy’s life more than he ever could his personal reputation in his eyes.

Priscilla realized what the Sword Demon was about to do moments before he opened his mouth again. She sighed, snapping her ruby red fan shut. The sound echoed through the room like a thunderclap.

“Natsuki Subaru,” Wilhelm Van Astrea declared. “Due to finding you unworthy to serve our nation as a knight of the Kingdom, I challenge you to a duel.”

*

Wilhelm had challenged Subaru to a duel over his position as a knight of the Kingdom. Subaru’s liege, Lady Emilia, had consented to such terms. If Subaru were to win, he would be allowed to remain where he was. If Wilhelm were to win, then Subaru would be forced to retire from his post — and in the eyes of the public, all the blame for his removal would rest squarely on Wilhelm’s shoulders.

Subaru, Wilhelm, and everyone witnessing the event knew what the outcome was going to be.

“What are you doing?!” an old lady cried from the stands. “What are you DOING?! He saved us — he saved all of our lives! Stop, STOP—!!”

“Natsuki Subaru-dono is a hero!” shouted a young man, hands clenching the rails. “Why are you doing this?! What did he do wrong?! He didn’t do ANYTHING, just LET HIM—!!”

“Wilhelm—” Subaru tried to plead, one last time.

Wilhelm met his gaze with one fierce enough to burn. “This is for your own good.”

Subaru swallowed, and raised his whip.

It only took three hits. The first smacked the handle of Subaru’s weapon with the flat of the blade, knocking it out of his hands and into the air, where it spiraled in an arc. The second whacked Subaru on the top of his head, stunning him hard enough to make him lose his balance. The third took advantage of this wrong-footedness by slamming into his chest, knocking him down on his back. Then the weight of the man’s knee settled against his chest, pinning him to the ground, with the edge of the blade grazing against his throat. And that was that.

“The winner,” Ferris announced, his voice muffled in Subaru’s ears. “Is Wilhelm van Astrea.”

It had not even lasted a full ten seconds. Those who watched would later describe it as Wilhelm scruffing him, much like one would a misbehaving puppy. Even the way he had pinned him to the ground had been careful, less like an actual fight and more like a sparring session between parent and child.

It was a duel far gentler and kinder than his previous with Julius. But the results were far graver in his eyes, for he had been successfully stripped of his title as a knight and reduced to simply being Natsuki Subaru.

[strawberrychampayne]

Hi, could you make an enemies to lovers evie x fem reader fic where reader is gaston’s daughter, so she’s very vain and basically acts just like gaston but the more girlypop version

End Game

Evie x Fem!reader

Enemies to Lovers

Word Count: 3321

Edited: No

A/N: AHHH this is my first request so PLEASE bear with me! I'm still pretty new to writing fanfic so there is always room for improvement. Thank you for the request Anon, I hope it's to your taste!!

She can remember the first time she decided she hated Evie. She had stolen a piece of bread from a couple of men on the road. She was hungry and bored and they looked preoccupied with yelling at each other. What she hadn’t accounted for was the fact that they would notice and were fast. They chased after her but she managed a little distance between them. Darting around a corner she bent over trying to catch her breath. She watched as blue heels made their way into her vision. 

“You truly never know who you’re going to run into, do you?”

She knew that voice. One that haunted her dreams like a siren of the night. Evie and her never had fought or even interacted besides looks when they passed by each other. Mal and Uma hated each other so she was supposed to hate Mal and her friends by association. She only knew Uma because her brother, Gil, was a part of her “crew.” Though she always thought it was because he wanted to prove something to their father. She picked her head up and leaned against the wall behind her. 

“You really don’t. Is there something you need?”

Evie glanced down at her. Her heels making her slightly taller. Her face held an emotion the other girl couldn't understand. Evie nodded slowly, glancing around the corner. A wicked smirk began to make its way onto her face.

“Excuse me,” she yelled, “I think I have who you’re looking for here.”

The girl's heart stopped. Not understanding why the blue haired girl would out her. She’d never done Evie wrong. She stood dumbfounded and watched as the brown eyed girl turned gracefully on her heels and walked away with a bounce in her step. That’s the day she realized that she hated Evie. The scar on her cheek from the fight that occurred served as a reminder. It would stay that way from then on, she’d throw insult after insult. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t mad when Evie, Mal, Carlos, and Jay got to leave the Isle. She held a grudge, wondering what made them so much more entitled to it. Though she wasn’t expecting them to be returning so soon. 

She was wandering around the Isle. Uma had wanted her to retrieve something she couldn’t remember. She honestly didn’t care, Uma could have someone else do it. Walking up to a stand she smiled at the man working there. She slowly made her way over, making sure to act innocent and interested in him. She trailed her hand on the baskets and stopped at his arm. She talked to him about how his day was going and kept his eyes on hers as she slipped bread into her pockets. Though she lost focus when she heard a familiar voice in the distance. Her heart dropped and she abruptly left the man hanging. She slowly crept around the corner and her question was answered. There they stood, there she stood. The girl who still haunted her dreams, the girl she hated most. She acted like she was just walking and “accidently” bumped into a man. A king. 

“Oh hey, do I know you?”

She watched with a small smirk as Ben fumbled on his words. The other 3 crowded behind him. 

“Um no, don’t think you do.”

She laughed and then looked up. Posters of the man in front of her were taped on the wall. She glanced at them and back at him. 

“King Ben. That’s where I know you from. You don’t know who I am?”

Ben’s eyes widened and he glanced back at Evie. 

“No I don’t.”

The girl's eyes lit up and she realized the man truly had no idea. Truly an opportunity to mess with him. 

“You should know my father, I’ll give you a hint. Quick, slick, and his neck,” she pointed at her neck, “is thick.”

She watched as the boy's face realized who she was referencing. The 4 teens scrambled away from her. 

“It was wonderful seeing you. Oh and Evie,” the girl yelled after them.

Evie stopped in her tracks and turned around slowly. A frown on her face.

“You truly never know who you’re going to run into, do you Belle?”

She watched with glee as the girls face dropped and she stared before running after her friends. 

“I’m loving this, Uma is going to love this.”

The girl said aloud to no one. 

The girl walked with Harry down the alley. They had captured Ben when he was trailing behind the group. Now it was her and his job to find everyone else. She watched as they all turned around and watched as they both walked down the path. 

“Ben?” Evie questioned into the dark. “Ben, don't scare us like that.” She said with a huff and her hands on her hips. 

“Don’t scare you?” Harry mocked

“We wouldn’t want that, now would we?” the girl added.

She watched as the 3 faces of Evie, Jay, and Carlos drained color. 

“What did you guys do with Ben?” she questioned. 

“Him? Yeah we nicked him from you and if you want to see him again, Mal will come to the chip shop tonight.” the girl replied, slight malice in her voice. 

“Yes, Uma wants a little visit,” Harry added, looking at the group. 

“Aww Jay, looks like you’ve lost your touch” the girl said with fake pity.

She laughed as the boy lunged at her, only to be held back by Evie. 

“Well, this has been fun but we must be going.”

She turned on her boot and began to walk away. Harry followed closely behind her. 

“See you later!” she yelled behind her. 

She had been tasked with keeping Ben in his place and not letting him escape. She walked slowly around him, like a predator stalking its prey. She was in her own head, Evie and the others being back brought up feelings she’d want to let out for so long. 

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” she heard from beside her

She turned to look at him. A small smile playing on her lips. 

“And why is that? You don’t know what I need to do.”

He looked like he was deep in thought. 

“I’ve heard the story, you know. About your father, conniving, misogynistic, rude. I can only imagine what he was like to his daughter.”

Rage filled her body and she took her sword to his neck. Putting pressure on it, not enough to slice him but enough to scare him. 

“You don’t know anything about my father. You live in a pretty little castle above everyone else. You’ve heard stories, that’s all they are.”

“I could help you, I could get you off this island. I understand how you feel.”

She backed off slightly. Getting off was all she wanted for as long as she could remember. She almost wanted to ask him how before Harry approached. She watched as he got all in Ben’s face. 

“Just think about it.” Ben said, staring at her. 

She shook her head and walked to the side of the ship. Watching the water crash against the wood. Before she could get lost in her thoughts again she heard commotion behind her. Turning she saw Mal standing there, her friends behind her. 

“Well let’s get this started” she thought aloud.

Grabbing her sword she began to advance. She was stopped by the Gilsf hand on her stomach. 

“Hold on, we have to wait for Uma.”

She sighed annoyed and began to pace around the ship, sword swinging around. Her heart began racing with anticipation as Uma and the rest of the crew drew their swords. She glanced over at Ben and Harry. He was playing with him, pretending that he was going to push him in. She felt conflicted after what he had said. She walked up behind Uma and Harry. Watching as her and Mal went back and forth. Glancing behind Mal she saw Evie giving a slight wave, to egg them on. Bringing her hand up she blew a kiss and a wave back at the girl. To hopefully throw her off. It did and she watched as the girl lowered her hand and eyes. 

“Hey! We don’t have to choose. There has to be a better way. Uma I’ll give you a chance, you’ll have your say,” Ben moved his focus onto her, “and you I’ll get her somewhere better, I promise.” 

She watched as Uma stood her ground and she didn’t make a move either. She couldn’t trust him. With her breath held she watched Mal begin to hand Uma the wand.

“Too easy, why don’t you give it a test drive? I want to see it work, we all do.”

Mal scoffed and turned to a dog that had walked onto the port. The girl watched as Mal casted a spell that would make the dog talk. 

“Does this vest make me look fat” 

She laughed with the rest of the crew at the words. Surprised that the wand was even real. She moved to the side as Harry drugged Ben along with him. Giving him back to Mal. Gil walked up to them. 

“And, before you go, tell your mom that our dad says hi. And also let your dad know that my dad wishes he finished off yours when he had the chance.”

Shaking her head she watched as Mal and Uma got ready to make the trade. She was concerned as to why they’d give up the wand so easily. When Uma finally had the wand in her hands the crew began to cheer loudly. She held her breath as Uma tried to cast a spell and let out an angry huff when the wand didn’t work. Uma snapped the wand in half and yelled out. The girl grabbed her sword and advanced towards the group. It was almost like fate that Evie was the person she had to battle. She swung her sword towards the girl and their swords clashed into each other. 

“You know, I knew it was so weird that you’d give up a want that easily”

Her and Evie struggled against each other to get the upper hand. 

“Yeah? And yet, Ben is in our hands and you all have nothing.” The girl replied with a laugh. Rage once again filled the latters body and she pushed heavily. Knocking Evie to the ground she wrapped her legs around her. 

“This almost feels like you’re trying to kiss me.” Evie said, trying to distract the girl. The other decided to play along.

“And if I was? Would you let me belle?” she whispered back with a smirk. Evie's face turned a dusted pinkBefore a reply could be said a cloud of blue smoke made the girl panic and tumble back. Her head hitting the wood below her. Her vision went blurry and the sounds around her were drowned out by a ringing in her head. She could just make out Evies figure running away from her. When she finally was able to stand again she watched as Mal kicked out the bridge that led to a tunnel. With her chest heaving she walked away. Her head pounding and her thoughts going a mile a minute. What just happened. 

As she walked away from the port she glanced to the ground and saw a familiar book. With a curious glance she picked it up and ran back to Uma. 

“You’ll never believe what I just found.”

Uma looked at her with anger in her eyes. 

“What.” she said 

“A spell book. Mal's spell book to be exact.”

She watched as Uma’s eyes brightened and a smile began to grace her face.

“Well I know just what to do now. Follow me, we have a boat to catch.”

The girl was spelled into a red dress. It clung to her body and shimmered in the light. She was on the boat. Hidden downstairs in a random room. Uma had left to go and find Ben. She said he was important to her plan. She was pacing around wondering what exactly she was doing. The words Ben had said to her were swarming her brain. Would he truly help her? She didn’t have time to think before she heard the sounds of trumpets. She heard an older man introduce Mal. She couldn’t hear what the people were saying until trumpets were heard again. Now the man was introducing Ben. This time she heard louder cheering as he made his way. She decided to move up to get a better view and was peeking around the corner so she could see everyone. Her eyes were locked on Evie. Ever since the boat fight she couldn’t get what happened out of her head. Ben slowly walked towards Mal and bowed to her. The girl watched curiously. 

“Mal, I wish I had time to explain.”

The girl watched as Uma walked in front of the stairs. So that was her plan, to steal Ben? Ben leaned down and kissed his ring that rested on Uma’s hand. She almost felt bad for Mal. Though pride wanted to get in the way. She watched as Ben tried to explain the connection him and Uma had. Uma claimed it was love. Mal was trying to get his attention. Asking if he had gone back for her. 

“He didn’t have too. I dove through the barrier before it closed.” Uma said to him. Uma grabbed Mal's hand and thanked her, giving her a hug. Slow music began to play and Ben and Uma began to dance. Twirling around the dance floor. Jane ran up the stairs and yelled for the man to reveal Ben's gift. It was a beautiful stained glass piece of him and Mal. She now really felt bad for the girl. It was stunning. Ben looked as though the spell was going to wash away. Uma yelled for them to cover it back up. 

“Why don't you tell everyone the present you have for me, Ben”

“I have an announcement. Uma will being joining the court tonight,” Ben said

His father tried to reason with him. “Not now, Dad!” Ben yelled at him. 

“So as my gift to her, I’m bringing down the barrier, once and for all.” Ben finished. She wasn’t expecting all that. People around the boat gasped. Ben told the fairy godmother to take down the barrier and she told him no. The girl watched as Mal advanced on Ben and Uma. Begging him to see that he really loved her. Mal finally confessed that she loved Ben and leaned in to kiss him. Uma began to rage and tried to grab the wand from the Fairy Godmother. She held her breath as Uma jumped into the ocean, her shell necklace glowing. Swirls of gold began to circle in the water and Uma rose up out of it with an octopus tentacle. She hadn’t known that she could do that. Water splashed onto the deck and drenched people with the smell of salt. Uma began arguing with the people on the boat. Her tail whipping around and launching at people. Mal walked away from the crowd and her head began to twitch. A swirl of purple gas filled the space around her and she rose up as a dragon. Soaring into the sky she let out a breath of fire onto the water. Her and Uma begin to fight. The boat was swaying back and forth. The girl was losing her footing. Ben let out a roar and dove into the water. He pleaded for the girls to stop fighting. Ben held his hand out for Uma. Hoping she would take it, instead she gave him his ring back and swam away. As Ben climbed the rope, Mal landed back on the ship. When she turned back into a human, gone was the blue and gold dress. It was not replaced but a purple dress that complemented her hair. Walking towards Ben, he and Mal kissed. The hidden girl thought this would be a good time to make herself known. She stopped in her tracks when she heard what Evie said.

“Actually. Ben there’s a lot of kids who would really love it here in Auradon,” her voice trailed off as she looked up and made eye contact with the no exposed girl. “People like her.” she said and pointed behind them. This made the girl tense up with all eyes now on her. Ben looked at her funny and the other teens stared at her. She cleared her throat and began to speak. 

“I completely understand if you want to send me back to the Isle, but I was hidden away on this ship thinking about what you said, and I was hoping I could get a second chance? I’m sorry for the chaos I helped cause but I didn’t have a choice. If you’ll let me, I’d love to help make a difference here, at Auradon.” she finished, her eyes glancing down at her feet. Ben was silent for a while, seemingly in thought. Before he could say anything Evie spoke up. 

“She is truly a quick learner, Ben, and I really think she could do some good, if she’s given the chance.” She finished and smiled at the girl, who then smiled back. 

Ben nodded his head and started to smile. 

“You’ll be our fifth kid out of many that will come to Auradon.” he said. 

The girl wanted to cry and thanked him a million times. She smiled at all the VK’s and mouthed a thank you to Evie. As the night progressed, there was singing and dancing happening all around her. She had the time of her life, until the party ended and everyone made their way back to the school. Ben set up a room for her to stay in for the night and she was able to sleep on a bed that felt like it was made for a queen. 

When she woke up the next morning a box was awaiting her on a desk in her room. It was tied with a blue ribbon but had no name. Inside was clothes for her to wear, almost exactly like the clothes she wore on the Isle, though these were clean. Under everything was a note. Nothing was written except for an E. That's when the girl knew who it was from. She got dressed quickly and set out to find Evie. After an hour of searching she noticed the girl in the courtyard. She was sitting under a tree sketching what seemed to be a dress. She took a deep breath and walked up to her. 

“Thank you for the dress, and thank you for what you did last night”

Evie jumped and looked up, startled by the girl. 

“It was truly nothing, us VK’s have to stick together.” she replied with a smile. 

A silence filled the air as the 2 girls stared at each other. 

“Can I ask you something?” Evie questioned

“Anything,” the girl replied, leaning down to listen better. 

Evie began to blush again, her words caught in her throat. 

“This almost feels like you’re trying to kiss me again.” Evie said breathlessly. 

“And if I was? Would you let me belle?” the girl replied with her eyes on the blue haired girl's lips. Evie gleaned between her eyes and leaned in more.

“Well I’d have to let you” she said before closing the distance and smashing her lips onto the other girls. Grasping the blue hair and pulling her in more. 

“I KNEW IT!” Both girls jumped away from each other and turned their heads to see Jay, Carlos, and Mal making their way towards them. Both girls laughed at said peoples reaction.

[literaryvein-reblogs]

Writing Notes: Hyperbole

Hyperbole

An intentional exaggeration or an exaggerated statement that isn’t meant to be taken literally.

Typically used to make writing and speech more exciting using exaggeration. An imaginative hyperbole can capture the attention of a reader or listener as they analyze the hyperbole to understand the user’s actual meaning.

Examples of Hyperbole

Jim fell off the roof and broke every bone in his body.

Don’t touch that hive unless you want to deal with a million angry bees.

We looked forever for the remote but couldn’t find it.

My sister will eat anything.

The whole world was against me, but I managed to complete the report on time.

That comment is the dumbest thing anyone has ever said.

My mom keeps checking up on me every five seconds.

The explosion was loud enough to wake the dead.

I told him a billion times to keep the window closed.

My dad will kill me if he finds out I failed my math test.

That house is older than the dinosaurs.

The TV weighed a ton, so I had to drag it across the room.

Our grandma was the smartest person who ever lived.

The star running back is a bulldozer who destroys anything in his path.

I was sweating buckets while working outside today.

We live in Dallas, and my brother lives a million miles away in Toronto.

Hurry up and hand me the scissors before I die of old age.

The clowns had the entire audience dying with laughter.

She’s been working nonstop on her new painting.

My job is so easy that a monkey could do it.

Our daughter is a little angel.

The smell was so bad it would’ve downed a bull elephant.

Gaston is stronger than 10 men and has a smile that lights up the room.

Since she got sick and stopped eating, my cat has been nothing but skin and bones.

Hyperbole is an example of a rhetorical device.

Typically, a rhetorical device is defined as a technique or word construction that a speaker or writer uses to win an audience to their side, either while trying to persuade them to do something or trying to win an argument.

In the case of hyperbole specifically, exaggerated language can give an audience a sense of scale. For example, hyperbole can be used to imply an issue a speaker supports is very important or be used to imply an issue a speaker opposes is unimportant or dangerous.

At the same time, hyperbole can help establish a rapport with an audience, as it’s often seen as an example of less formal language.

it is important not to confuse or mislead an audience.

It should be clear whether or not a statement is a hyperbole.

A good practice is to use extreme embellishment or impossible feats in your hyperbole to make it abundantly clear that you are exaggerating. For example:

Ambiguous hyperbole: There are twenty cats in the barn. (A possible event.)

Clear hyperbole: There are a billion cats in the barn. (An impossible exaggeration.)

In formal writing and serious situations, hyperbole must be used sparingly and effectively.

Because hyperbole is often viewed as less formal, it may come across as inappropriate or make the user seem as though they aren’t serious.

When an audience expects accurate information or hard facts, hyperbole can give the impression that the speaker doesn’t have the information the audience wants or is intentionally concealing it from them.

Ill-timed use of hyperbole like this can damage the speaker’s credibility or weaken their influence over their audience.

Literary Examples of Hyperbole

His horses are the finest and strongest that I have ever seen, they are whiter than snow and fleeter than any wind that blows. —Iliad by Homer (7th/8th century BCE)

Nor was Stubb the only banqueter on whale’s flesh that night. Mingling their mumblings with his own mastications, thousands on thousands of sharks, swarming round the dead leviathan, smackingly feasted on its fatness. —Moby Dick by Herman Melville (1851)

It surprised me that what before was desert and gloomy should now bloom with the most beautiful flowers and verdure. My senses were gratified and refreshed by a thousand scents of delight and a thousand sights of beauty. —Frankenstein by Mary Shelley (1818)

Sources ⚜ More: Writing Notes & References ⚜ Writing Resources PDFs

[jekyllandhyde77]

Regarding that ArcKnight Vtuber AU, imagine a Rusted Knight Model...

You know….that’s a really good idea for like a Halloween model. Especially with the premise of the story being agencies trying to recruit him, I could definitely see him doing a surprise collab with someone for a Halloween celebration.

An example:

The talents of Vshojo were excitedly moving about backstage, running to and fro making last minute preparations. For you see tonight was Halloween night and they had prepared a delightfully delicious array of costumes and sets for their very own spooky concert. Unfortunately it wouldn’t be Halloween if nothing went bump in the night.

IronMouse: *Runs into the girls dressing room frantic* GUYS!

Melody: *Dressed as Disney Rasputin* Woah mouse what’s up?

Haruka: *Dressed as Ernesto de la Cruz* Yeah, you’re supposed to be on in ten minutes with Bubi.

Mouse: Bubi’s sick!

Melody/Haruka: HUH?!

Mouse: We were rehearsing and Bubi stared feeling unwell, suddenly he started throwing up! *She cried tears starting to form* I don’t know what to do, our first three songs were duets!

Melody: Okay, it’s going to be okay one of us can fill in for Bubi right?

Zentreya: *Dressed as Gaston* But everyone that’s not on stage is dressed up for their Disney villian song.

The others were quiet as they tried to quickly think of a solution. After all Mouse had been excitedly preparing for this concert for almost two months, not appearing wasn’t an option. They were suddenly broken from their thoughts as someone knocked on the open changing room door.

Jaune: *Dressed as his Rusted Knight avatar* Girls is everything alright? Kuro text and said someone was sick.

The girls stared at Jaune in his Rusted Knight look, complete with a full beard, before looking between each other.

Melody: *Smirking* I mean he’s not a demon butler buuut….

Haruka: *Smiling* He’d make a convincing Cursed Knight.

MMHZ: *Turns to Jaune smiling widely*

Jaune: Girls….you’re kinda freaking me out.

Mouse: *Dives into Jaune’s chest* WAAAHHH! Big brother please help me!

BONUS

Meanwhile halfway across the world in Japan the members of HoloMyth were busy signing thank you cards for their own concert. Suddenly Gawr Gura who was wearing a blue T-Rex costume suddenly snapped her pen scaring her genmates.

Mori: *Startled* You alright Gura?

Gura: *Eyes and hair highlights turning red* I feel like someone just stole something from me.

MKAI: Eh?

[takusan-no-ai]

Secret Admiration

PAIRING: Belle/Mulan/Cinderella x Male Reader (Romantic) (Separate)

SUMMARY: They have a secret admirer, and when curiosity wins, they must find out who it is!

Belle received gifts from multiple pursuers, none of which ever held much of an interest to her; it was all makeup this, showy outfits that, and the empty compliments, especially from Gaston. Sometimes it felt like only her father understood her.

That was, until, a new secret admirer came along. “A gift was left for you Belle!” Her father shouted as she returned home from a trip to the library. She sighed, bracing herself for disappointment, but was instead met with a book she’d never even heard of before. A letter attached to it saying it’s not from anyone she’s met before.

As piqued as Belle’s curiosity was, there were a lot of people she’d never met before. Sitting down and reading the book while contemplating her new admirer’s identity; it didn’t last long as she got heavily engrossed in the book; adventure, romance, fairy tale, with an outspoken female protagonist! It was everything she wanted to read.

“Excuse me, is Belle here?” A unknown man’s voice asked. He was talking to her father at the door. Unbeknownst to the young man, she’d been upstairs reading her book at a time she usually goes out. She crept downstairs as the two men conversed.

“This is a new book for her. Please make sure she receives it.” He said with a small smile to her father, turning around and ready to leave.

“Since I’m here, why don’t you just give it to me yourself?” She asked, now downstairs. The young man turned around and stared at her like a deer caught in torchlights. He started to sweat profusely the closer Belle walked to him. She coughed lightly, signaling for her father to give them some privacy.

“So, are you going to ask me out? Or am I going have to ask you?”

Mulan has a great life with a loving family. Of course, that love didn’t stop at her family; after her help in the war, Mulan had built a reputation, which garnered the attention of many potential suitors. However, none of them could really capture her heart. Despite knowing of her achievements they still aimed to make her something she wasn’t.

One day, after finishing her martial arts training, Mulan made it to her room only to see a handcrafted box with intricate designs waiting for her. Inside was gear for traversing terrain, as well as the book “The Art of War”. Finally! A gift that wasn’t some high priced hanfu dress or way too much makeup.

She had no idea who sent the gift, but she just knew it had to be someone who understood her. Mulan’s search had led to a dead end until one day. You, a young man who was just going into training as a war tactician, visited Mulan’s father. Little did you know she was listening in.

“Fa Zhou, I ask the you give this gift to Fa Mulan, and that you do not tell her it was me who sent it.” He asked politely, bowing down to Zhou. The older man chuckled lightly before peering outside the slightly adjacent door. He made eye contact with Mulan for a split second, the latter jumping back into the shadows.

“Why would I keep the one man who can keep up with my daughter’s personality a secret? Are you so ashamed to love her that you’d rather die with no one but me, a tired old man, shouldering that burden?” Zhou asked sternly. Despite speaking so harshly, he was only goading the boy to say exactly what his daughter needed to hear.

The younger man had been cowering during the scolding until the end. He took a deep breath and looked up, glaring back into Zhou’s eyes with a determined expression. Mulan gazed at him from behind the door, awaiting his response.

“Never…I’ll never be ashamed of my love for Fa Mulan!” Zhou smiled at that moment. The unprompted sound of the door sliding open caused (Y/N) to shrink back, and the woman standing before caused the room to suddenly grow ten times hotter.

“Prove your love to me then.” She demanded.

Cinderella never got gifts anymore after her father’s death. The only thing those awful step sisters of hers ever gave Cinderella was a mop and bucket; and the bucket had a hole in it.

Her day was elated when she opened the mailbox and found a beautifully wrapped box with a small note attached. Addressed to her, it was a sweet poem about all the things she does that makes her secret admirer swoon. And the gift was a glass rose, glistening in the sunshine.

Since that day Cinderella received a new gift every week, and every time it would leave her heart souring. If only she could find out who her admirer was. Well one day while cleaning outside the house she saw you, a young man sneaking around to the mailbox. Handsome as ever and clearly shy.

“Excuse me, are you perhaps leaving a gift for someone?” Cinderella asked as she walked up behind the young man. He jumped up, startled. His face became fifty shades redder.

“I-I’m sorry!” He shouted before he ran off. She never even got his name. But upon looking at his gift, felt she soon would.

“An invitation to the royal ball? Oh I just can’t wait!”.

- Fin

[rainbow-femme]

Rewatching the animated Beauty and the Beast

-Right off the bat the thing in the opening that gets me is not the possible age implication but the fact that this prince is opening his own doors and to people he’s not expecting. You’re lucky it was just an enchantress looking to test the purity of your heart and not an assassin. Just power posing with the door fully open, no guards, going “Oh hey it’s someone I don’t know! I’m going to have a conversation with them alone” before god and everybody. Of course you got cursed, your guards should have rugby tackled her before she could get her wand out

-I never liked Maurice as a kid and I still don’t. Like he’s not bad he’s just annoying to me every time he’s on screen. The wind blows and he’s dying on the side of a cliff somewhere

-It is never not funny to me that Belle promises to stay in the castle forever and then just leaves three hours later

-I love Gaston having his whole “I’m going to get Belle’s father locked up so she marries me” scheme and then she’s fully just not remotely near the town. He’s living in a high stakes drama and she’s clapping along to dancing tea cups

-Hey when Maurice goes to look for Belle he grabs a bunch of rolled up pieces of paper and protractor. Is the idea that he’s just gonna invent and build something while actively walking? Sir you spent 6 hours in a dungeon and nearly died of being in a dungeon disease, you can’t help yourself out of a wet paper bag much less get your daughter out of anywhere with an invention you made out of rocks and sticks while clawing your way through the woods because you’re dying again

-But it is funny to imagine this revolving door of Maurice and Belle trading themselves for the other until the beast is just like “hey if I let you both leave will you promise to never come back”

-Belle is such a dick at the beginning it’s so funny. “Oh there’s one place in this giant castle I can’t go? I bet he’s hiding all the really cool stuff in there and I’m going to ignore his wishes and that of the staff. Oh no, consequences, the guy who said not to come here is upset I came here! Who could have foreseen this!”

-Like it’s not bad writing, it’s her character arc that she was mainly focused on herself and her interests and pretty judgemental of people who weren’t like her, so her disrespecting someone’s boundaries because she want to sets up something she grows from, and she learns to connect with someone else on their level even if that person is different from her and she learns that people are more than their surface appearance and even an angry beast has depths if you actually get to know them and see their view of the world, and connecting with people who are different from you enriches your life. Which is why when the townsfolk later try to kill the beast because he’s different we see she’s now understood the danger of that way of thinking and is horrified

-But that’s such a funny thing to do just immediately upon entering a castle owned by a big scary beast. Day one hour one she’s like “oh boy I know where I wanna go!”

-I don’t want to be a CinemaSins and point out how improbable it is that Belle got a giant unconscious beast onto her horse when he would be hundreds of pounds. But I do want to see the scene of her doing it. I’m picturing the horse sorta laying down and the beast is on the ground like a sack of potatoes and Belle has her back against him and is pushing with her legs to try and roll him over. Or she’s got her shoulder against him and is trying to push that way but her feet keep slipping in the snow

-Oh my god I forgot they told her about the library before the beast “gives” it to her. She was already allowed to go in there and knew it existed, “giving” someone a room they had full knowledge of and access to is very funny

-But you know what if he’s the kind of guy who thinks that will work and she’s the kind of girl it works on then they’re perfect for each other. Just two people with zero social skills bumbling around a castle together, making weird decisions and the other is like “wow they’re so cute and normal”

-I love the sweeping faux crane shot during the ballroom dance. Over 30 years later and that shit still slaps, more animated movies need to act like they’re being shot and edited like live action

-Maurice really can find a way to immediately die in any situation. When he’s at home he’s fine but the second he leaves the town border he develops tuberculosis and begins losing all function in his limbs

-I’m going to be honest with you guys, I’ve seen various versions of Beauty and the Beast and every time it’s the letting Belle go scene I have the same thought: I absolutely would not have read that social interaction correctly, I would have been fully under the impression we were all aware I was running an errand and coming back later. Because if I’m Belle, and I can live in the cool castle with a friend and people who are nice to me or a town I specifically stated not liking filled with a guy who is pushy and makes me uncomfortable and people who are mean to me and zero friends, I would not have been like “oh thank god I can finally go back!”

-“You should go to him. I release you, you are no longer my prisoner” See to me that reads “We are friends and I am removing this technicality between us so you can go run out and do something that is clearly important to you.” I would not have picked up on everyone in the castle thinking I was leaving forever. I’d just show up two hours later like “boy, it’s been a day, huh?” and the beast is just laying face down on the floor in his room listening to a sad boy playlist

-But the beast is clearly part dog so I guess it’s a normal reaction for him to have

-I don’t want to victim blame, but if you have a sick dad and are equidistant between “castle where everyone likes you” and “town where everyone is mean to you” and your dying father can be cured by a nap, I feel like it’s a bit on you if bad things continue to happen in the Bad Things Happen To Me town

-Not saying she should have anticipated a mob coming to incarcerate her father but I do feel like it would be expected that the people who have been mean to you and your dad would continue to be mean to you and your dad in the Everyone Is Mean To You and Your Dad town

-Because if the forced incarceration hadn’t been an issue, they would have gone to town the next day and someone would go “Hey Belle, your dad said you were kidnapped by a beast.” And everyone would point and laugh and he’d start waving his arms and going “It was the biggest beast you ever saw! 18 feet tall and claws bigger than my head!” and people would probably suggest that the guy they all call Crazy Old Maurice may be crazy and Belle would need to prove he wasn’t. I just don’t think we would have ended up with much of a different situation in any timeline that involves going back to the town

-Ok. So. If I live in a town. And I find out there is a beast within walking distance that is sentient enough to take villagers prisoner. And this guy is like “yeah he took me and my daughter prisoner, he’s terrifying!” I’m not saying I would have been part of the mob but I do think I would be worried about there being a beast and two people he previously kept prisoner living next door. And her saying “no he’s actually very sweet” would sound like those people with exotic pets who get their faces eaten by their pet tiger. Like yes they’re wrong but Belle also thought he was scary and violent until she’d been there a number of hours. I feel like if instead of giving herself up she went to town and asked for help and they created a mob to get her father back she would not have been against the idea so it’s not wholly their fault for having the same idea

-“Is it dangerous?” “No, no, he’d never hurt anyone” Every owner of a dog who wants to bite you so so bad

-So when Belle and her father are alone she is clearly telling him that the beast let her go and is kind. When asked about the beast by the town, Maurice starts yelling about how he’s the most terrifying monster in the world. Belle has to show the beast to back up her father’s claims to try and save him for the second? third? time. And then they’re locked up and she says “this is all my fault” and this man does not for a second contradict her or take blame at all. “Yeah I can’t believe you specifically caused this mess.”

“We won’t rest until he’s good and deceased.” I know there are only so many words that rhyme with beast but that’s such a funny line in a bloodlust song. I will not rest until this animal has been declared legally dead by the state

-“We will fight even though the danger just increased” I’m obsessed with all the words they had to use to rhyme with beast

-It’s so funny that this is canonically France and he is canonically a prince. They didn’t make him a duke or a lord he is directly related to the royal family and in the line of succession. Likely not the dauphin because they wouldn’t have sent him to run a castle in the countryside away from the center of politics so probably a younger son but still, this guy is part of the royal family. They didn’t have to explicitly state this is France but they do, and they reference the baroque period so it’s after the construction of Versailles. The beast is actively being stabbed to death while sentient furniture watches and at the same time his family are canonically pissing on the walls and floors of their own home

-Oh my god the beast is brooding on a chaise. Did he drag it over to the window just so he could dramatically sit on his chaise and stare longingly out at the rain? Absolute break up mood

-He’s also in a different outfit that isn’t the fancy one or his every day one, he went and changed into a breakup outfit. Important to note the breakup outfit includes a cape and what he was previously wearing did not. He chose to put on a cape as part of his breakup outfit

-So Gaston points his arrow at the beast. The beast acknowledges it then looks away. Gaston then fires and hits him and he reacts all surprised and angry that it hurt like my dude you let him shoot you with an arrow, what did you think that experience would be

-It is so wild that Gaston assumes the beast is in love with Belle. Like yeah he’s right but what a wild assumption to make when you’re not even sure this thing comprehends human speech. Again my thought would be he’s attached to her like a dog is attached to its owner, I would not see a big furry animal and be like “this thing is fully sentient and feels romantic attraction to human women”. Yeah he’s wearing clothes but still that feels like a leap. Pointing at a dog in a sweater following its owner and yelling “You’re in love with her, aren’t you?”

-The beast’s arc is partly him controlling his temper, and we see him want to kill Gaston but controls himself and lets him go, immediately resulting in his own death. Gotta be honest I feel like less self control would have been helpful in that specific scenario

-I didn’t remember the blood spray after the beast is stabbed followed by the stab wound bleeding a good amount of blood. Are there other Disney princess movies with onscreen blood? I think in Mulan we see blood oozing out through clothes from an injury but that’s the only other one I can think of. Eugene gets pretty bloodlessly stabbed

-Best scene in the movie: The beast floats up in the air, actively transforms into a human in front of Belle, stands up, says “Belle, it’s me!” She then squints at him, touches his hair a bit, squints at his face, and when she recognizes his eyes she goes “It is you!” Ma’am what the hell else did you think was happening. If you didn’t recognize his eyes would you have just been like “Hmmm I dunno…”

-Ok so at the end there is an entire royal court watching them dance. Again I don’t want to be a CinemaSins I just want to see the missing scene. Like did he explain what happened to him? If yes then again I want to see that conversation of him explaining to his family how he was literally transformed into a literal beast for the last ten years and they had no idea this was happening to their family member. If no, imagine just going back to being a prince after 10 years as a beast and you just have to pretend like everything has been normal this whole time. I want a sequel that’s just the human beast reintegrating not only back into society but French royal society, which was notorious for having some of the most intricate and complicated social etiquette in all of Europe

-The final shot is a stained glass window of them with a prominent rose. Now in the original he had a whole rose garden he was very attached to, so that makes sense. But I feel like this beast specifically would have only negative connotations with roses and that window would probably be seen as a little tasteless given the circumstances. “It’s a rose! You know, the physical manifestation of a curse that was clearly quite upsetting for you for nine years and roughly 360 days, reminding you daily of your flaws! Isn’t that fun?”

“Original score by Alan Menken” Look up his IMDB, if you live in at least the US this man has written the score to your entire life

[knoepfl]

The Hunter’s Soft Heart

Characters:

Gaston: The self-assured, brawny hunter of the village who loves praise and attention but is caught off guard by Adeline’s quiet admiration.

Adeline Rousseau (OC): A shy, soft-spoken woman who arrives in the village to care for her sick aunt. Though timid, she admires Gaston’s strength and confidence, feeling safe in his presence.

LeFou: Gaston’s devoted friend and sidekick, always trailing behind to offer compliments and keep his spirits high.

Trigger Warnings: None.

Masterlist

Words: 790

Part 2 Part 3

A New Face in the Village

Adeline Rousseau’s steps faltered as she approached the edge of the village, her heart fluttering with both nerves and purpose. The distant chatter of the market reached her ears, a lively contrast to the quiet town s7he had left behind. She wasn’t used to bustling places like this, but there had been no hesitation when her aunt Margot’s letter arrived. Her aunt had raised her, and now it was Adeline’s turn to return the care.

Though unfamiliar with healing magic, Adeline knew the basics of herbal remedies and hoped to make her aunt’s final months more comfortable. With a small bag on her shoulder and her shawl wrapped tightly around her, she stepped into the heart of the village, hoping to go unnoticed.

But in a place like this, new faces rarely went unnoticed.

-----

Gaston stood outside the tavern, adjusting his collar while basking in the glow of the admiration from a passing group of villagers. By his side, as always, was LeFou, his loyal sidekick, grinning up at him like an eager puppy.

“I tell you, LeFou,” Gaston said, tilting his head with a smug grin, “Belle doesn’t know what she’s missing. But I won’t waste time on lost causes.”

“Of course not!” LeFou chirped, nodding enthusiastically. “Who needs Belle when every other woman in town is dying to be with you?”

“Exactly.” Gaston’s gaze swept across the marketplace, searching for his next source of entertainment. That’s when he saw her—a slender woman with an auburn braid, her head lowered as she hurried through the crowd, clutching a bundle of herbs. She wasn’t giggling or fawning over anyone. In fact, she looked as if she hoped no one would notice her at all.

Naturally, Gaston took that as a challenge.

He straightened his posture, nudging LeFou with a smirk. “Watch this.”

----

“Hello there, sweetheart!” Gaston’s booming voice stopped Adeline in her tracks.

She looked up, startled, meeting the eyes of a man who seemed to radiate confidence. He stood tall—broad-shouldered and imposing—with a grin that practically demanded attention. And beside him, a smaller man gave her an encouraging nod, as if to say, Yes, this is really happening.

“I don’t believe we’ve met,” Gaston continued, folding his arms in a way that made the muscles in his biceps bulge. “What brings a pretty girl like you to our little village?”

Adeline swallowed, her cheeks warming under his gaze. “I—I’m here to take care of my aunt. She’s unwell.”

“Well, well,” Gaston said, leaning in slightly, “you’ve come to the right place. And lucky for you, I’m the strongest man in town.”

LeFou chimed in, “And the most handsome! Don’t forget handsome, Gaston!”

Gaston chuckled. “Yes, yes, I suppose that too.” His blue eyes flickered back to Adeline, who was fidgeting nervously with the herbs in her hands. “And what’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Adeline,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

“Adeline,” Gaston repeated slowly, savoring the sound of it. “A lovely name for a lovely girl.”

LeFou gave a small cheer, clapping his hands together. “Oh, you’re good, Gaston. You’re really good.”

Adeline smiled softly, her gaze flickering between the two men. “Thank you,” she whispered shyly, lowering her head again.

“You know,” Gaston said, stepping closer so she could feel the warmth of his presence, “I don’t often meet women who aren’t falling over themselves to talk to me.”

“I’m sorry,” Adeline murmured, her blush deepening. “I… I didn’t mean to be rude.”

Gaston chuckled, his grin widening. “Not rude at all, darling. In fact, I like it. You’re different. And you’ve got good taste—seeing as you’ve noticed how strong and handsome I am.”

Adeline bit her lip, looking down at the cobblestones. “It’s hard not to notice.”

That was all Gaston needed to hear. His chest puffed with pride, and he flashed a triumphant grin. “Well, Adeline,” he said, “if you need anything while you’re here—anything at all—you come to me. I’ll take care of it.”

Adeline’s hazel eyes met his briefly, and in that small glance, Gaston saw something that made his heart stir—a quiet admiration that felt unlike anything he’d ever experienced. It wasn’t wild or desperate. It was soft, steady, and somehow far more satisfying.

LeFou gave Gaston a nudge and whispered, “I think she likes you.”

“Of course she does,” Gaston whispered back with a smirk, but inside, he felt something he hadn’t expected—an urge to protect this girl, not just impress her.

As Adeline gave him a small, timid smile, Gaston felt, for the first time, that being admired for who he was—just as he was—might actually mean more than being praised for his looks or strength.

---

Author’s Note:

Thank you for reading! This story is my take on a softer, more romantic side of Gaston. Adeline’s character is meant to offer a contrast to his boisterous personality, showing that even someone as bold as Gaston can find value in quiet admiration and kindness. I hope you enjoyed this little glimpse into their meeting, and I’d love to hear your thoughts or ideas for future scenes!

[oddinary4bts]

The Forgotten Spaces | ch 5 (jjk)

☆summary: you've been dancing on the same dance crew since your teenage years, and you finally have an important role in it. It feels like life is taunting you when your rival comes back after disappearing for a year, ready to tease you every chance he gets. Will the teasing turn into more, or are you going to take him down with you?

☆pairing: photographer and dancer!Jungkook x dancer!female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: slow (SLOW) burn enemies to lovers, college!au, slice of life!au, angst (oop), smut and fluff

☆warnings: a cancer joke about eating a burned marshmallow, mentions about Jungkook's injury/scars, alcohol, curses, a hot tub, a game of Truth or Dare; explicit content: hickeys, grinding, fingering, jerking off, big dick!Jungkook, unprotected sex (please don't be stupid), choking; angst

☆word count: 15.7k (oop)

☆series masterpost here

☆a/n: SMUT IS HERE EVERYONE. I hope you enjoy reading this one!! Thank you to @moonleeai for her beta reading on this fic, I won't ever thank you enough, you're the best <3

☆Read What Was Hidden here, the fic that inspired this whole story, written by @daechwitatamic, one of my fav human beings on this app <3 It follows the story of Jo and Taehyung before The Forgotten Spaces

☆☆☆☆☆

For this meeting of our end of the world

It's with you that I want to sing

On the threshold of the memories the dead of today

Them that breathe for us

The forgotten spaces

Je t'écris - Gaston Miron (rough translation by me)

☆☆☆☆☆

Friday, July 6th

                It’s a strange thing, how when you’ve been working on something for months, the concretisation of it passes so quickly it’s like it never happened. The auditions were like that: you barely remember yesterday. All you remember is the moment you stepped out of the scene, breath ragged, and Jungkook high-fived the whole crew.

You don’t remember listening to the results. You remember the bubbling excitement as the name of the crew wasn’t said until the very last. But you don’t remember hearing the mention you got. The highest of every crew that auditioned from your state.

Because auditions for nationals are also a competition in and of itself. An innerstate competition, and you still can’t believe you got the highest mention of your level. It’s like a dream, and everything has been moving too slow, or too fast, for you to interpret.

Yesterday was a fever dream indeed. And the whole crew knows that it’s thanks to Jungkook. He refuses every congratulation you’ve all offered him, but it’s him. You wouldn’t have gotten the diamond mention without him.

Diamond… a perfect score. You landed a perfect score on your auditions to nationals.

You will get ripped up to pieces at nationals, won’t you? It makes you anxious, but then again, you’re not sure if it’s because you will have to perform at the top of your art in a few months, or because you’re sitting between Jungkook and Heather on the backseat of Hobi’s car.

Probably the latter.

You’re lucky. You were able to rent a cottage an hour and a half outside of the city, next to a small artificial lake. It was previously rented by another group, but they cancelled a few days ago, which let you have the cottage for the whole weekend.

But you don’t think you’re lucky to be sitting between Jungkook and Heather. Though both of them have been dozing off for a while.

  You’ve just been clutching your phone for dear life, because Jungkook’s head lolled to the side until he found your shoulder to be a pillow. It’s not that you mind it. You mostly mind the way Jiho’s been looking at you with the biggest shit-eating grin on her lips. She’s already taken pictures, and you’ve been planning her murder for the last fifteen minutes.

[2:37 pm] Jiho❣️: attached photo [2:37 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re so mad lmao [2:38 pm] You: delete this picture immediately or i’ll end ur miserable life [2:38 pm] Jiho❣️: 😘😘😘😘😘 [2:38 pm] You: 😤😤😤😤😤 [2:38 pm] You: and Scottie deciding not to come???? Even worse [2:38 pm] You: he’s a traitor😩 [2:39 pm] Jiho❣️: u’re just mad bc now u and jk are the only single people attending [2:39 pm] You: last i checked heather and bridget weren’t official official🙄

Jiho snorts on the front passenger seat, and Hobi throws her a curious look. She shakes her head to indicate that it’s nothing, and you watch as she types her reply.

[2:40 pm] Jiho❣️: bitch plz😂 [2:40 pm] You: besides u’re gonna share a room with me🥺

Jiho laughs out loud this time, and you wonder if the glare you bore into her profile has any effect at all. She just glances at you, an eyebrow cocked prettily. You know what that means: no. No she won’t be sleeping with you. You’re going to have to sleep on the couch, because couples get the rooms. Lance made that rule, and even though you were desperate to not let it take effect, everyone but Jungkook was against you.

You’re not usually in agreement with Jungkook. But for that you were, and you hoped the others would take it into account. You’re stupid for thinking that they would.

Jungkook sighs in his sleep, readjusting himself until he’s even closer to you. You gulp, glancing at him with a scared look on your features. You want to push him away, but he looks so peaceful you just let him be.

[2:44 pm] You: why is he sleeping on me tho [2:45 pm] Jiho❣️: i’d sleep on u too [2:45 pm] You: u can if we share a room👉🏼👈🏼 [2:45 pm] Jiho❣️: nice try but no😇

You whine, and Jiho chuckles.

“What’s up with you two?” Hobi asks, and you meet his gaze in the rear view mirror.

Jiho shrugs. “Y/n is just mad that she’s going to sleep on the couch.

“I can let her sleep with you,” Hobi says, ever so the pacifist and kind man that he is.

“Yes!” you burst out.

It gains you a whine from Jungkook and a glare from Heather, before she rests her head back against the window and dozes off again.

“No,” Jiho refuses. “I want my sexy time.”

Hobi burns bright red as you let out, “Ew”.

Jiho winks at you over her shoulder, and then you all fall silent again. The cottage is still at least fifty minutes away, so you steel yourself as Jungkook shifts again. He mumbles in his sleep and you almost let out a startled yelp when his hand moves on your thigh. He’s not holding you, just resting his closed fist on the top of your thigh. But it’s still way too much touching for your comfort, so you push him away.

He frowns but doesn’t wake up, resting his head against the window with a sigh instead. His mouth falls open a little, and you keep a laugh in. He looks stupidly cute like that. It’s a disgusting thought – Jeon Jungkook is anything but cute – but you let it slide for today. Maybe because you can’t bring yourself to care.

You eventually fall asleep, the low music Jiho’s been playing lulling you to sleep. It’s much deserved sleep after all the anxiety of yesterday, and you only wake when the car comes to a full stop, and car doors slam shut.

You wake up with a start, ready to fight whoever made the noises, and you realize you’re alone in the car. With Jungkook, who has a tight-lipped smile on his lips when your gazes meet.

“You drool when you sleep,” he tells you, and you furrow your brow as you wipe your cheek.

Sure enough, you were drooling. It takes you a few seconds to realize he’s got a wet spot on his shoulder, and you reckon you woke up with your head rested against something. Something that suspiciously felt like Jungkook’s shoulders.

“Mmh,” you sleepily let out. “Sorry.”

He smiles. Sweetly. It starts with his eyes, as you’ve realized it usually happens when he smiles genuinely. “It’s all good. You looked peaceful, I didn’t want to wake you up.”

You echo his smile, nodding your head once before stretching your arms. It makes you yawn, which in turn makes him laugh. “What?” you ask.

“You slept like thirty minutes and you’re still tired.”

You glare at him. “I’m always tired.”

“Right.”

It’s a weird conversation, and it’s even weirder that you’re still sitting in the car. So you motion towards the door as you unbuckle your seatbelt, and Jungkook has a light tint on his cheeks as he nods and opens the door before stepping out. He stretches when he’s outside, and you scooch out of the car, imitating him as soon as your feet touch the ground.

“Gosh,” you let out, and he laughs.

“Yeah.”

You glance at him, and then your gaze slides to the landscape surrounding you. To the picturesque cottage that looks even better than what you had pictured, all made of logs. It looks straight out of a fairy tale. It’s cozied up in a little forest, and the wind that picked up earlier today still makes the leaves dance. It’s loud, like the sound of waves at sea, but it’s more constant. It doesn’t recede, and it creates a background soundtrack to the summer afternoon. The sun is still high in the sky, shining bright with not even a single cloud in sight. The air smell of the woods, and bugs fly around aimlessly, or following an aim only they know. The car is parked in the shadows, but you still feel the heat, and you’re glad there’s a breeze.

You take it all in with a bright smile on your lips, and it only grows wider when Jiho and Hobi rush out of the cottage.

“This is heaven,” Jiho declares. “I’m never leaving this place.”

“She says that because she saw the hot tub from the balcony,” Hobi says as he motions over his shoulder to the cottage.

It makes you laugh, and it turns into a giggle as Jiho grabs your hand and pulls you behind her. “While you men unpack the car we’re going to take a walk to the lake.”

“How is that fair?” Jungkook complains, but he’s grinning when you meet his gaze over your shoulder. You offer him an apologetic shrug of your shoulders, and he just chuckles before turning towards the car.

Lance’s car is pulling up the dirt road when you turn on the side of the house. You wave at Chaeyeon and him, but they don’t notice you as Jiho only keeps pulling you behind her.

“Look at this!” she says giddily as you walk to the back of the house. “It’s so pretty.”

It really is. The house is nestled right next to a small lake, with a few trees separating the building and the water. There’s a hot tub on the right, and a small rock path that leads to a quay in the water. You notice a fireplace area, though it’s not a circle of rocks like you had imagined, but an actual metal fireplace with a door that’s currently swinging on its hinges in the wind. Logs are piled beside it, just waiting for someone to ignite a fire.

Jiho’s giddiness is contagious, and you find yourself giggling as she pulls you towards the lake. There’s a small shed down by the lake, and a look through the window shows you two kayaks. It makes you even giddier, and you clap your hands before turning towards the quay.

The quay moves as you step on it. Fortunately, the water is not very deep and the lake is relatively calm even with the wind. You’re able to make it to the end of it without it shaking too much, and Jiho closes her eyes as she tilts her head back. “We should come here every weekend.”

You laugh. “As fun as that sounds like, we can’t skip practice every weekend.”

“We can practice here,” she points out, shrugging.

She’s not wrong, so you just smile and nod before imitating her, taking in the sun. But you feel a little bad for those inside that are setting up the house, so it’s not even a minute later when you say, “We should go help the others”.

Jiho whines, and she opens one eye to look at you. You cock an eyebrow and she rolls her eyes. “Fine.”

You walk back up the little slope until you reach the cottage. When you make it to the front, you see that a third car has arrived: Jin, Valeria, Taehyung, Jo and Bridget are all stretching outside of it. Jo notices you and waves happily.

You think it’s funny that she is here. It’s weird to think that even though she isn’t part of the dance crew, she’s still made her way into the friend group. Like Jin, Valeria and Taehyung, you reckon. Though you barely know Jin and Valeria. But you needed more people to rent this cottage, and considering it was the only one available, you didn’t really have a choice.

You move to their group to greet them, and then you help them unpack the car. You also help Lance, who was the one in charge with food and speakers for music. It takes a moment, but soon enough everything is settled. You’re all already hungry though, so you prepare the first meal of the weekend.

Well, you watch Jungkook, Jin, Valeria and Heather prepare it. You’re on washing dishes duty though, but you’ll only do that after you eat.

It’s fun. Cheerful. A little bubble outside of the seriousness of practice and nationals and auditions that you really can’t remember, can you? The light atmosphere is much needed, and you drink as you eat, and drink some more after washing the dishes. Then you all set out to explore outside, and Lance and Jin have a fire running by the time Jungkook figures out how to get the hot tub working. It’s still hot outside though, so you decide to wait before going into the tub, but Bridget, Heather, Chaeyeon and Jo all move to it. You stay with Jiho and the others by the fire, listening to the cracking of the logs as you talk and talk and talk.

There’s laughter. A lot of it. Laughter that turns more drunk as the evening unfolds, and the sun has set by the time you get up from your spot to go pee inside. The girls have come out of the tub, and they’re taking turns in the shower upstairs, so you head to the downstairs bathroom. You’re on the way out when Jo stops you.

She says your name, offering you a bright smile. “Are you in for some shots before we head outside? I’m taking some with the others.”

Sure enough, Chaeyeon, Bridget and Heather all look at you expectantly, and you don’t hesitate even a second before agreeing. You go outside with Jo and Chaeyeon after, as you all laugh when Bridget and Heather say they’ll take a shower together. You figure it’s better to let them have the house for a time, and you all join the rest of the group by the fire.

They’ve started playing some music and singing over it, and you laugh as Hobi belts a tune as if his life depends on it. Jungkook joins him and your eyes widen a little as you hear his voice.

Jungkook can sing. His voice is melodious, clear and full and round. It’s beautiful, the voice of an angel. You feel struck as you watch him, and he bursts out laughing when Hobi messes up the lyrics next to him.

You’ve stopped walking. And Jungkook meets your gaze, offering you a small smile before returning to the action around him. It strikes you, in a weird kind of way. It makes a weird feeling form in your chest, that same feeling you felt last week when you saved his number in your phone.

It’s not a feeling you like. So you push it aside as you join Jiho in her chair, sitting on her lap and stealing the bottle of soju she’s been drinking from. You need more alcohol in your blood, and soon.

It’s night by the time the group moves again. Some of them decide to go to the lake, but you stay by the fire as Valeria and Jin bring marshmallows out. Heather and Bridget never came out after their shower, and you don’t quite feel like going inside to find them.

Instead, you start roasting marshmallows, and soon enough you’re the elected marshmallow roaster, because you’re the only one who’s managed to not make them catch fire. You make some for everyone, before roasting one for yourself.

Since Jungkook has been the one feeding the fire for the last hour, it also makes it so you’re sitting next to him. The conversation is lively around you, but you’ve noticed he’s silent. He’s just staring at the fire, and it casts a dancing glow on his features.

He notices you looking at him, and his features soften as he turns to look at you. And then he bursts out laughing, and you do too as you notice your marshmallow has caught fire.

“Oops,” you mumble.

“I know I’m pretty but you should focus on the job at hand,” he teases you.

You punch him in the shoulder, before blowing on the fire until it dies. “Still edible if you ask me,” you say as you eye the burned thing on the branch you’ve been using since you started roasting marshmallows.

“Oh, clearly,” he agrees. “If you want to get cancer, that is.”

You glare at him, and he only laughs. “What’s life without a little risk?”

“Boring,” he answers wisely, face falling serious, though he only manages to keep the serious look for a few seconds before he’s breaking into yet another fit of laughter. One you echo before taking a bite of the marshmallow. You hum in delight, and Jungkook says, “What the fuck was that?”

You have the decency to blush. “What?”

“You’re not really the kind of person that moans when they eat good food?”

“I wasn’t moaning,” you let out outrageously.

It gains everybody’s attention around the fire, and Jungkook laughs at you. You shove him in the shoulder again, but he annoyingly barely moves in his chair.

“Who’s moaning?” Lance asks.

Both you and Jungkook look startled for a time, and you glare at him. “No one, Jeon’s just being a little shit.”

“What’s new?” Jiho jokes, and everyone laughs.

The trio that went to the lake comes back – Taehyung, Jo and Hobi. Jo scans the people around the fire, brows knitting together.

“Where are Bridget and Heather?”

The whole group laughs. “They never came out,” Chaeyeon admits. “I’d advise to not go looking for them.”

Jo snorts. “Oof yeah, that’s a no for me.”

It’s not even that funny, yet everyone laughs as the trio settles around the fireplace. Hobi and Jiho share a chair, and you realize there’s no chair for Jo and Taehyung. You’re about to offer yours when they just sit directly in the grass, giggling like the two idiots in love that they are. They lie down after a few seconds, and Jo points up at the sky.

It makes you look up, and you suddenly feel very small, under the immensity of the night sky. It sobers you up, just a little, and you sit back in the chair to get a good look. You admire the stars and constellations, searching for those you know. It leads to everyone doing so, and it also creates a calmer atmosphere, until half the group is dozing off in their chair.

Someone changed the music to softer tunes, and you really listen to the night sounds now, as the melody entwines with the cracking of the logs. Soon enough, Jin and Valeria decide to go to bed. Jungkook immediately teases the older guy, saying that only elderly people go to bed so early. Jin just throws a marshmallow at Jungkook, who receives it right on the forehead. He looks stunned, and he raises his middle finger at Jin as he just laughs where he’s leading Valeria inside. Chaeyeon and Lance are the next to go, and your gaze trails them until they stop to kiss. You give them privacy then, focusing on the fire instead.

It leaves only you, Jungkook, Jo, Taehyung, Jiho and Hobi by the fire, and you sigh in content as Jungkook throws another log into the fire.

“Last one, I assume?” he lets out.

The group mumbles in agreement.

“We’ll party harder tomorrow,” Jiho promises before yawning.

It makes everyone yawn, and you laugh tired laughs as you watch the flames licking up the log.

“We should set up a beer pong table,” you suggest.

Taehyung seems to spark to life at the idea. “I’m so in for some beer pong.”

“What about a tournament?” Jungkook proposes. “Losers have to jump in the lake.”

Jiho winces. “I hope Hobi’s good because there’s no way in hell I’m jumping in the lake.”

“I got you, babe.”

You notice them exchanging a long look. It’s filled with love, grossly so, and you roll your eyes before settling your gaze on the stars above once more. You let out a happy yelp when a shooting star crosses the sky.

“Oh my God!”

Jo is just as happy as you are. “Oh shit!” she echoes. “We have to make a wish.”

You laugh, nodding your head repeatedly. The four others just look at you curiously, before Jo explains that there was a shooting star.

Everyone’s eyes are back on the night sky in no time, and you reckon you might fall asleep like this.

Stargazing, and wishing that you’ll find your own person soon enough.

Saturday, July 7th

                “I’ll kill you.”

Jungkook smiles, and the breeze of the afternoon catches in his hair, making a strand fall in his eyes. He pushes his hair back. “I’d like to see you try.”

Something changed. He knows something changed between the two of you. It’s exciting, in a childish kind of way. He feels young next to you, and he’s been following you around all day, claiming that he wants to avoid the couples. Which is not entirely a lie, but he mostly wants to be around you.

It’s a new feeling. Or almost entirely new, because he felt like that around you once before. The night after he told you about his accident. He’s pushed that away since then, but it seems being here, at this cottage in the middle of nature, brings it out.

He’s been failing at pushing it away since last night, and he reckons he doesn’t even want to try anymore.

You put your hands on your hips, tilting your head to the side. Your hair sways in the wind, and he wants to brush it behind your shoulder. He resists, because he’s pretty sure you’ll bite his head off if he does.

“You’re the one that suggested kayaking.”

He did. But throwing you in the water seems like twice the fun, so he’s been teasing you about it as you stand next to the shed.

“Maybe it was just a trap?” he says, winking at you. He takes a step towards you, and you immediately take a step back.           

Jo and Taehyung are sitting on the quay, watching the water and talking in hushed tones. Jungkook feels Jo’s gaze on him, and he resists glancing at her.

He knows what she thinks. She’s made it pretty clear in the last week. Maybe it’s contributed to the softness in him whenever he watches you.

Maybe.

“You’re annoying.”

“But yet you came with me?”

You squint your eyes, shaking your head. “Not with you. I came to kayak.”

“Right.”

“I swear.”

He bursts out laughing, and it’s his turn to shake his head. “Of course, of course.”

“Why are you…” you start before letting out a strangled sound. “I’m going back to the house.”

“No!” he immediately says, a little louder than necessary. This time, both Taehyung and Jo look at you two. “I’m just teasing, let me bring the kayak out.”

He’s blushing. He feels it coming up slowly from deep within his chest, so he quickly turns towards the shed and goes in. A few spiders are hiding in their webs, and he swats one away from the first kayak. He almost hesitates to leave it in just to spook you, but he doesn’t really want to spook you right now. Not when his heart is beating just a little quicker.

He doesn’t know if he likes it. But he’ll roll with it for the rest of the weekend, because he doesn’t think he’ll have the opportunity to do so after that.

He brings out the two kayaks before going back for the paddles, and a moment later he’s helping you to sit in yours, holding your hand while you step in it before sitting. Jo and Taehyung are watching now, barely even talking, and Jungkook can’t wait until you’ve moved away from the quay.

He hates the way the couple has been watching you both. It feels like he’s under pressure, and he knows he doesn’t do well under pressure. Except when it came to dance, but that’s long gone now.

He gets into his own kayak as you’re already starting to move away.

“Bye losers,” you say towards Taehyung and Jo.

“Try not to drown,” Jo replies as she waves you off.

You laugh, a crystal clear laugh that makes Jungkook very aware of how Taehyung is looking at him. He catches his older friend’s gaze, furrowing his brow.

Taehyung glances down at Jungkook’s attire – a pair of pants. He looks like he wants to say something, and Jungkook knows what.

He’s not going to wear shorts. Not when it’d put his scar on display to the whole crew. He hasn’t gotten the courage to tell everyone yet, and he doesn’t want to be forced to explain anything. He just wants to focus on being in the present, because he hasn’t done that in a while.

So he glares at Taehyung, clenching his jaw. Taehyung sighs before looking away. Just like that the moment passes, and Jungkook settles in his kayak before quickly following you.

“Is it a race or something?” he asks as he moves closer.

You look at him over your shoulder, a bright smile on your lips that turns mischievous as soon as your gaze finds his. “It is and you’re losing.”

Now, bringing out his competitive side is a bad idea, but that’s who you are, isn’t it?

Jungkook pushes the paddle in the water harder, accelerating his rhythm. It makes you screech, and you quickly do the same. Your lean arms are nothing against his though, and he’s caught up to you in no time. Unable to resist, he splashes water on you.

“Jungkook!” you scream. “I’m trying not to wet my hair!”

“Oh are you?” He does it again, this time purposefully aiming for your head. You dodge but to no avail.

“I’ll murder you,” you threaten, and you send water flying his way.

He barely gets any on himself, and he cocks an eyebrow arrogantly. “Is that the best you can do?”

It pisses you off. He sees it in the way resolve fills your face, and he’s not surprised he’s thoroughly drenched by the time you finally stop. He’s just accepted defeat and let you splash him as he laughs. You laugh too, and he reckons it’s his favourite thing about you.

The way you laugh when you’re being a brat. It’s endearing.

He’s endeared by you. That’s what the feeling is. He’s been trying to put words on it since last night. Last night it was struck. He was struck as you spoke to him with that soft edge to you. And then it turned to endearment.

He reckons he missed you, while he was hiding from all of the crew because of his accident. He really did. Something about you was missing from his life.

He pushes the thoughts away as you stop splashing him.

“Oops,” you say when he meets your gaze.

His hair is wet, and he puts the paddle down to push it back. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes follow his motion, and the furrow of your brows before you frustratingly look away.

“I’m debating making you fall in the water,” he teases, pursing his lips before playing with his piercing.

Your gaze widens. “You wouldn’t dare.”

He moves his paddle in the water to get closer to you, and you quickly move away.

“I would definitely dare,” he tells you. “I’m all wet because of you.”

His brows knit together as he realizes what he just said sounded suspicious. Of course you burst out laughing, before saying, “That’s what she said”.

He rolls his head to the back of his head. “Lame.”

“You’re lame,” you counter-back.

It’s like that for the rest of the time you spend on the water. Even though he threatened to throw you in the water many times today, Jungkook doesn’t really want to do it. He likes the peace between the two of you: he’s not going to do something to fuck it up.        

You eventually get bored of kayaking, and you switch places with Chaeyeon and Bridget when the two of you return to the quay. Jo and Taehyung have gone back to the house, but Lance, Heather, Jin and Valeria are there, and you sit with them for a while, just talking.

Mindlessly, Jungkook pulls his shirt up to dry his face from the last of the water you splashed on him before getting out of the water.

He realizes his mistake only when the shirt falls back in place, and Lance is watching him with round eyes.

“What’s that scar?”

Jungkook stills. Unmoving, barely even able to breathe. The air is suddenly less warm, and he can almost see the snow again. His heart constricts in his chest, and he just stares back at Lance as if he’s a doe caught in headlights.

“You don’t just ask people why they have scars, Lance,” you grumble.

It surprises Jungkook that you said something. But then again you’re not the type to back down from a fight.

Lance seems startled by the tone of your voice. He frowns as his gaze slides to you. “It was just a question?”

“It could make people uncomfortable?”

Jin is looking at Jungkook. He’s got a careful expression on his features, and he looks between you and Jungkook a couple of times. As if this moment matters, and truthfully it does matter to Jungkook, because you’re bickering with Lance and it entirely shifted the attention away from him.

Jungkook manages to shrug his shoulders at Jin, who offers him a no-bullshit look. Valeria punches him in the arm, and Jin lets out a startled sound that has everyone looking at him.

The moment passes, and it’s dinner time when Lance moves closer to Jungkook, clearly having waited until you aren’t around to actually approach him. Jungkook steels himself for the questioning, but Lance only says, “Whatever happened, I’m glad you’re okay, bro”.

It renders Jungkook speechless, and all he can do is nod his head at Lance. Lance claps him on the shoulder, and he immediately walks away, as if his job here is done.

And maybe it is, and all he wanted to do was prove that he’s Jungkook’s friend. It makes Jungkook appreciate him ten times more, and then he takes a moment to really look at everyone. The girls are all laughing about a story Jin is telling, and Taehyung is just shaking his head in disbelief where he’s grilling the meat for dinner. Lance moves towards Taehyung to offer help, and Jungkook just stays alone for a moment, enjoying the scene.

The sun is setting, the air is warm and the light breeze from today has fallen. But the air is not still, and it smells of the rich soil of the forest, and of the meat Taehyung is grilling. The sky is still void of any clouds, and it’s turned to a rich golden glow from the setting sun.

Jungkook is stricken, once again, by the fact that he is alive. He’s alive and breathing and even though his leg hurts, he’s standing. He’s standing and walking and yes he can’t dance anymore, but there’s so much more to life than dance, isn’t there?

His eyes slide to you as he thinks the thought. You’re looking at Jin with a little smirk, the one he knows you use when you’re judging someone. But you feel his eyes on you and your gaze meets his. The smirk falls into a small, secretive smile, and Jungkook breathes in sharply.

His heart is beating a little louder, and this time he does push it away. He does try not to think of it, but it’s hard when you look at him like that. With that soft edge he saw yesterday. It fills him with wonder, the same wonder he got from watching the night sky the day before.

You’re like a star in a bleary night. It’s hard to look away from you, and he only does so when Taehyung says the meat is ready. It’s like someone cut the string between you and him, and he almost stumbles forward as he glances to Taehyung.

He gulps, taking a deep, steadying breath before he moves to help Taehyung bring the food to the table. Lance helps too, and the three of them together make quick work of filling everyone’s plate, and Jungkook soon settles down in a chair next to you, right in front of Jo.

Dinner is fun. Cheery, with lots of laughter. Everyone is already a little tipsy from the day-drinking you’ve all done, and Jungkook feels like there’s more than alcohol in his blood this evening. There are feelings, joy and happiness to be here in this moment.

He should live in the moment more often.

“Hey JK,” Jo says, and he raises his eyes from his plate.

His fork is halfway to his mouth when he lets out, “Uh?”

“How is it going with Laura?”

Everything inside of him stills, like it did earlier today with Lance but for a completely different reason this time. He freezes, and he doesn’t miss the way your head immediately snaps towards him at Jo’s question.

Jo has an insufferable smile on her lips, and Jungkook just can’t move.

Laura. She’s a girl from his class that started texting him a few weeks ago. He’s seen her once, just because she said she had questions about her camera and it would be easier if Jungkook answered in person. Laura is a sweet girl. Pretty too, but Jungkook doesn’t know if their talking will lead anywhere. He doesn’t feel like he’s ready to jump headfirst into a relationship.      

Especially not as he feels your expectant gaze on his profile.

“Laura?” he repeats.

“Didn’t you go on a date with her?” Jo asks.

Jungkook frowns, shaking his head. “It wasn’t a date,” he points out. “She needed help with her new camera.”

About that. Jungkook brought a camera with him this weekend. He’s been taking pictures once in a while, mostly of nature. Because he’s always been more of a landscape photographer. Maybe because landscapes tend to change less than people. They feel unbreakable, immovable, and it’s reassuring in some way.

“That sounds like the lamest start of a porno,” Lance jokes.

Everyone laughs. Everyone but you and Jungkook. Jungkook only shrugs, before saying, “I didn’t sleep with her”.

You scoff next to him. It aggravates him, something you haven’t made him feel in a while now. His brows knit together as he turns his head toward you.

“You want us to believe you didn’t sleep with her?” you let out.

It’s bitter. And you seem to realize it quite at the same time as he does, because you flush red, and you look away from him to glance down at your half-empty plate on the table.

Jungkook’s features relax, and a smile even tugs at the corners of his lips. He knows what Jo is doing. Especially as he sees the knowing smirk on her lips.

She dared him to find a way to make you jealous earlier this week, when he invited her and Taehyung to the cottage. As if making you jealous is a good idea.

He now sees what she meant. Because you’re playing with your food, a look of confusion creased into your features. It’s cute, and it makes the same feeling arise in him.

Everyone starts talking again, but Jungkook feels the weight of Taehyung and Jin’s gazes on him. He avoids them like the plague, focusing on trying to keep his smile in. He doesn’t want to infuriate you by making a comment.

Especially not when you’ve been forced to team up for the beer pong tournament. Which, turns out you’re a lot better than he thought you would be. Than you said you were, because you make it to the final round, getting beaten by Bridget and Heather out of all people. The two girls celebrate to the sounds of everyone whooping and cheering, and Jungkook can’t keep his smile in.

Tonight promises to be quite the party. And it is. With lots of drinking, and Chaeyeon and Lance having to jump into the lake because they were last in the tournament. It’s funny, but it leads to them deciding to go to bed early, saying something about being cold from the lake.

Jungkook knows exactly what they have in mind when he sees them staring at each other the way that they are. Like they’re alone in the universe, and maybe to them they really are.

He’s surprised when the rest of the group starts to follow Chaeyeon and Lance. The night is younger than it was yesterday when it came to an end, but there’s something in the air. It brings the couples closer together, makes them exchange secretive glances and stolen touches. Jungkook finds Taehyung and Jo making out outside of the bathroom when he goes in to pee, and they never come out after that. Jin and Valeria move in not even five minutes later, right before Hobi and Jiho, and it leaves Bridget, Heather and you alone with him outside.

He’s not surprised when the two girls decide to go to sleep too, even though Jungkook has just started the hot tub at Bridget’s request. It leaves him alone with you and the red solo cup in his hand. It’s filled to the brim and, quite frankly, Jungkook doesn’t feel tired at all. He feels alive, awake and ready to conquer the world if need be.

You look exactly like that too.

“Wow,” you let out once everyone is gone.

Jungkook feels awkward for half a heartbeat. But then his eyes slide to the house, and he notices Jo in the window. She quickly dips out of his line of sight, which makes him understand exactly what happened.

You’ve been left alone outside on purpose, and Jo’s the one that schemed the whole thing.

“They’re boring,” Jungkook says, though he feels like laughing. He hopes you don’t notice.

“They didn’t even go into the hot tub,” you point out. “What a waste of energy.”

He glances at the tub, and an idea forms in the back of his mind. He doubts you’re going to say yes.

*****

                You don’t know why you said yes. Going into a hot tub alone with Jungkook sounds like a very bad idea, and the more you think about it the worse it seems to you. Yet you make your way outside after having put on your black two-piece swimsuit, wrapped in a white towel you fished from the bathroom.

The house was eerily quiet when you and Jungkook went in to change. It is still just as quiet as you get out of the bathroom, and aim for the kitchen to make yourself a glass before you go outside. You notice Jungkook is already out there, testing the temperature of the water. He’s wearing trunks, and he got rid of his t-shirt, discarding it on a chair next to the slowly dying fire. He turns towards the window as you’re pouring a glass, probably to see if you’re coming. It’s not your fault when your eyes dip down to his leg.

Even in the darkness you see the angry knot of skin that runs from below his knee and disappears in his swim trunks. It’s ugly, and your heart stops beating for a few seconds as you see it. Jungkook was right when he told you about his accident the first time – the scar on his leg is far scarier than the one on his stomach.

You wave back at him as he waves, a dumb smile on his lips. You focus on that smile, because you don’t want to be thinking of the scar. Don’t want to be thinking about the pain Jungkook must have endured. The pain he is still enduring to this day.

You’re hesitant when you step outside, though you make sure to bring a glass for him too. He’s still smiling when you arrive, and it only widens when you hand him the red solo cup.

“Thought you might want a refill.”

He tilts his head to the side, winking at you as he grabs the glass. “Always.”

You move towards the tub, ignoring the way you feel his gaze on you. It makes you self-conscious, and you don’t want to peel the towel from around yourself. You reckon you can’t get in the water with it though, so you carefully put your glass down on the side of the tub before taking the towel off, leaving it on the same chair where Jungkook’s shirt is.

“It might be a little hot,” Jungkook warns as you move back to the tub. “I adjusted the temperature a little while I was waiting for you.”

You dip your fingers in the water, shrugging your shoulders. “Seems good enough to me.”

He laughs, and his eyes follow you as you climb into the tub. The water is hot, extremely so, but you’re drunk and the jet of the tub looks far too inviting for you to wait.

“Alright then, guess I’ll get in too.”

You watch as he does so, and your eyes once again fall to his scar. It stretches weirdly as he bends his leg, as if it doesn’t really allow him full movements anymore. It explains why his dancing has turned mechanical now, and why he can’t move the way that he did before.           

He’s noticed your gaze on the scar while getting in. You know it, because his features have fallen serious by the time he sits in front of you.

“I know, it’s ugly,” he says, and his eyes get lost in the bubbles in the water.

You remain silent for a time, waiting for his gaze to meet yours. When it does, you finally say, “Nothing about you is ugly”.

It’s smooth, the way you say it. It makes his eyes widen and a laugh bursts from his lips. You don’t even know why you flirted with him – you just had an inkling it’d make him fall back into his usual cocky self.

And of course it does.

“You think I’m hot?”

You roll your eyes, before grabbing your red solo cup from where you left it. Jungkook grabs his own, and it takes a few seconds before you’re settled back into your seat. You take a small sip from the glass, letting the rum and coke swirl in your mouth for a second before you swallow.

“I’m not going to answer that question.”

He smirks. “Then I’ve got my answer.”

You squint your eyes, fake glaring at him, and it only makes him laugh.

“You’re insufferable.”

He shrugs his shoulders, and he takes a sip from his glass. He winces then, before raising his eyebrows. “How strong did you make this?”

“Strong enough to have you shut up?”

“Oh please.” He laughs once more. “You know that won’t make me shut up. As a matter of fact, it’s probably just going to make me talk more.”

You chuckle, shaking your head a little. “My mistake.”

Jungkook really is hot, sitting there. His hair is fluffy around his face – it really is a lot longer than it was before. It curls a little at the ends, making a crown around his head. He’s buff too, and it makes you wonder how he manages to work out at the gym even with his injury. And it’s hard not to let your gaze wander to the tattoos on his shoulders, the ink that goes from his hand up to the top of his arm.

He’s attractive, damn him. You hate it, so you say, “So, Laura uh?”

He holds your gaze, his tongue darting out to play with his piercing for a time. “What about her?”

You cock an eyebrow. “You tell me.”

He’s smirking now, and his eyes dip to where your chest disappears in the water before moving up to your features again. “Why do you want to know?”

You feel hot. Not because of the water, though you reckon it really is hot. No, his gaze is burning you, in a way that makes you feel naked. You don’t know if you like it. But two can play this game Jungkook seems to have chosen.

You shrug your shoulders, wetting your lips before smiling. “Just making conversation, Jeon.”

His gaze has moved to your lips. It stays there as he says, “Seems to me like you got a little jealous earlier”.

You refuse to admit that it was jealousy, when Jo mentioned Laura at dinner time. To you, it was just surprise, and you’ve been repeating it to yourself ever since it happened.

“Why would I be jealous?” you ask, brows knitting together as a smile plays on your lips. “You’re nothing to me.”

“Right.” He chuckles, and he drinks from his cup, his gaze burning into yours. “I’m nothing and yet you’re in this hot tub alone with me.”

He’s arrogantly cocky, isn't he? It used to piss you off, but tonight it just makes your blood boil.

“Wasn’t going to waste the opportunity for a hot tub session,” you say, shrugging your shoulders. “Unfortunate that it had to come with you though.”

He fakes offence. “You offend me.”

You snort, and his features relax into a small smile. There’s a moment of silence, where you find yourself too much of a coward to keep holding his gaze. It’s your turn to let your gaze wander down to the spot where his chest disappears in the water, and you drink from your cup.

“Do you want to play Truth or Dare?” he suggests after almost a minute without any of you speaking.

You chuckle. “Are we twelve?”

He shrugs. “Just thought it could be fun.” He pouts a little, and it really does make him look like he’s twelve. “Unless you’re too much of a coward for it.”

“Me, a coward?” you scoff, rolling your eyes playfully. “Truth or Dare, Jeon?”

The cocky smirk reappears. “Truth.”

You don’t know what to ask. At all. Your mind goes empty, until he lets out a laugh that gives you an idea. “What’s the deal with Laura?”

“You really want to know, uh?”

You shrug. “You chose truth, now answer the question.”

He laughs a little, and then plays with his piercing for a few seconds. You watch him do so, eyes falling to his lips.

“We hung out once”, he says.

It’s the same answer as earlier, but you feel like a brat right now. So, you press him by saying, “And that’s it? You’re not going to see her again?”

He ponders for a time, making you wait before he replies, “We’re supposed to go on a date sometime next week”.

You feel like maybe you shouldn’t have asked the question. Because his reply makes you clench your jaw, and you take a sip from your cup to hide it. “Jeon Jungkook on a date? Are you having a fever?”

“She’s nice, just thought I’d give it a try,” he says, shrugging his shoulders. He’s still smirking, and this time it’s knowing.

He knows that the thought of him going on a date with Laura is pissing you off. And you don’t even know why it makes you feel like that. You’re not sure you should be feeling like that when it comes to Jeon Jungkook. He’s barely even a friend.

“Hope it goes well for you,” you say, though it sounds tense.

He shrugs, winking at you. “I’ll let you know.” He pauses for a moment, before asking, “Truth or Dare?”

So the conversation about Laura is over then. And he’s a fool if he thinks you’ll say truth.

“Dare.”

He looks far too happy about your choice. “Chug your glass.”

You frown. “But then I won’t have anything to drink if I don’t want to do some of your dares.”

“Oh, we’re playing adult Truth or Dare? Had I known I wouldn’t have answered your question.” You glare at him, and he laughs, shrugging his shoulders. “Just drink, you can always drink from my glass later.”

Your glare intensifies, if that’s possible, but you still give in. You’re not one to back away from a challenge, and you chug your glass in a few long swigs. Your nose scrunches up as you finish, and you put the cup down.

“Happy?” you let out, and he nods with that same insufferable smirk on his lips. You want to wipe it away, but you don’t really know how. Instead, you only ask him, “Truth or Dare?”

“Dare.”

You hate dares. You never know what to suggest. You don’t feel like making him chug his glass, so you cock your head to the side as you survey him, mind reeling for an idea.

“Go get me another glass.”

He’s surprised. So are you, but you think it’s a brilliant idea.

“It’s so far,” he complains, with that same childish pout he used a moment ago. “Can I change for Truth?”

“You’re annoying”, you say, though you don’t really mind.

Something in the way he’s been looking at you makes you want him to stay anyway.

“You’re the one that wants me to go all the way inside.”

You chuckle, before shaking your head. “Alright then, let me find you a truth.” It takes you about half a minute before you come up with an idea. “How many girls have you slept with?”

He snorts. “Wow, straight to the body count I see.” He falls silent again, and his hand plays with the bubbles in the water in front of him.

“So?”

You think he’s blushing. It’s hard to tell in the dim light – indeed, the only light illuminating the scene is the one from next to the door, and the tub’s purple light.

“I’d say…” he trails off, scrunching his nose as he thinks. “Like twenty-five?”

It’s a lot, but not as much as you expected. Jungkook has a fuckboy vibe to him, and you were pretty sure he had at least fifty.

“Only?”

He furrows his brows. “Only?”

“I thought you had more,” you admit, chuckling as you shrug your shoulders.

He sips from his cup. “Sorry to disappoint.” His eyes glint with mischief, and he adds, “Truth or Dare?”

You hesitate, maybe because something in the way his eyes sparkle makes you think he’s got something in mind. You feel it – anticipation is building in you, and some parts of you can already see the outcome before it unfolds. Like a web of possibilities, and the longer he looks at you like that, the more it closes in to the anticipated one.

“Truth.”

He’s silent for a time. His face falls more serious, darker, and he’s so hot sitting there you really have to look away. “If everyone was single here, who would you fuck?”

You refuse to admit his question makes a drop of pure magma roll down your spine, before it moves forward and settles in your core.

“Jiho.” It’s a lie. You both know it, but he lets it slide – for now. “Truth or Dare?”

“Truth.”

You hit him with the same question he’s just asked you. His reply is far more cryptic.

“You already know the answer.”

You breathe in shakily, and something tightens inside of you. “Do I?”

His mouth is a little parted, and his tongue darts out to wet his lips before he takes a sip from the cup. He seems to reconsider it, because he chugs the whole thing before putting it down on the side of the tub.

“Do you?”

It confirms the answer. And you don’t know what to make of it. It scares you, somehow, but makes the fire in your burn brighter.

“Truth or dare?” he asks then, and a smirk tugs at the corners of his lips.

“Dare.”

You don’t even hesitate. You’re afraid he’s going to ask you stuff you don’t know the answer to if you choose truth.

“Why don’t you come sit closer, mmh?”

Still no hesitation from you. You’re like the moth and he the flame – you know it’s a bad idea, but you haven’t looked away from his eyes in too long. You’re in a trance, and you think so is he.

You settle next to him. Far enough not to touch, but close enough for every inch between you to fill with electricity. Not that it wasn’t already before – you are just way more conscious of it now.

“Truth or dare?” you ask, and it’s a little breathless, the way you speak.

“Dare,” he says. His eyes are on your lips now, and all you can do for a time is to observe his features. He’s got a mole under his mouth, and a scar on one of his cheeks. It looks old, and it’s so faded you can barely see it.

You have no dare in mind. You feel like you don’t even have any thoughts. You’re stuck looking at his lips, where your gaze settles as you watch his features. “Uh?” you let out.

He chuckles. It’s deep, manly, and it makes you look up to his eyes. “No idea what to ask?”

“You already chugged your glass.”

“There’s nothing else you want me to do?”

There’s a whole lot you want him to do, but a whole lot you don’t want him to do. It’s confusing, and your heart is beating too loud for you to think straight.

“Is there something you want to do?” you ask.

He’s bold. His hand moves up, his fingers lightly touching the side of your neck. “I could kiss your neck.” They trail down until they find a home on your shoulders. “Or I could massage your shoulders, you seem a little tense.”

You are. You are because there is a war of conflicting emotions in you, and you don’t know which side will win. “Massage my shoulders then.”

He laughs, before making you turn. It’s easier to breathe once he’s not in your line of sight anymore, though the moment his hands start working on your shoulders, you tense up again. “Relax,” he murmurs, adding your name at the end.

“You’re making me anxious,” you admit breathlessly.

He stays silent as he works on your shoulders, for so long you think he won’t talk. But then he says, “Why?”

“I don’t know.”

His hands are big, and his fingers are skilled. In a matter of a few minutes he’s undid every knot in your shoulders, and you find yourself able to breathe. You still don’t want to risk looking at him though.

“Truth or dare?” he asks.

Maybe you can be bold too. Maybe you can just focus on every spot where his fingers are digging in your skin. Maybe it doesn’t have to mean anything.

“Dare.”

“Give me a hickey.”

You snort, mostly because it takes you by surprise. “What?”

His hands fall from your shoulders. “You heard me well.”              

“Aren’t hickeys bad for you?” you say, though you’ve never really cared about that. You care about it even less when you hear him move in the water.

“I think everything about you is bad for my sanity right now.” He whispers the words directly into your ear, and goosebumps form on your arms.

“Please don’t think this is going to lead anywhere,” you whisper back, right as you tilt your head to the side. You feel the ghost of his lips on your skin, but he straightens before he’s really done anything.

“Then why are you afraid of giving me a hickey?”

It is a challenge, and you don’t back down from challenges. So you turn around, say fuck it, and lean towards his neck until your mouth finds the spot where it connects with his shoulder. You suck, hard, and he hisses as one of his hands moves to your back, as if he wants to pull you closer.

You run your tongue on the spot you’ve sucked, before straightening. He’s got a deep purple mark there now, and you smirk in satisfaction. “Happy now?”

His chest is moving up and down quickly as he breathes. He’s out of breath, and the insufferable smirk is gone now. He seems a little angry, with a crease between his brows. “Yeah.”

You’re about to succumb to insanity. It’s taking a hold of you, choking you up until you say, “Truth or dare?”

“Truth,” he answers.

He seems just as conflicted as you. But the web of possibilities from earlier dwindled down until there’s only one left, and both of you know it.

“Do you want to fuck me?”

Your heart beats once, and then it stops in your chest. Because you meet him halfway, crashing your mouth on his so hard you think you taste blood. You don’t care: insane people do not care about anything. All you want is to feel his lips against yours, and damn him he’s a good kisser.

It’s intense, languid, and his hands don’t take their time before he’s pulling you on his lap. You straddle him, your own hands finding purchase on his shoulders, before moving up until you’ve cupped his face. And you hold him in place as you kiss, never once breaking away for air.

You don’t need oxygen when you’re kissing Jeon Jungkook. All you need are his lips, and he gives you plenty of that. And when his tongue finds yours, you moan in his mouth.

He swallows it like a man starved.

His hands are on your back. Respectfully so, even as he’s devouring your mouth. It frustrates you, because you want more. You want to feel all of him. It makes you grab a handful of his hair, and you pull his head back.

“Fuck,” he hisses.

“I’m not going to fuck you in a hot tub.”

It’s the only intelligent thing you could think of.

“We can –“

Your lips are back on his before he finishes his sentence, and you suck on his bottom lip, tongue darting out to play with his piercing. This time, he grunts in your mouth, and his hands lose their fight against his will not to touch you more. They move down until he’s cupped your ass, and he makes you grind on him.

You moan, and he breaks away from the kiss, just so he can bend down and leave a trail of hot, wet kisses on the column of your throat. You just let your hands loose in his hair and on his shoulders, nails digging in his skin when he decides to suck a hickey on you too.

You grind again then, and you feel the bulge of him press against you.

“We can’t fuck in the tub,” you say, and your voice is unrecognizable even to yourself. It’s lustful, sinfully so, and you’d be embarrassed if he didn’t meet your gaze with his half-lidded eyes.

“We can go in the shower.”

You’ve never been a fan of shower sex, so you say, “As much as that would probably be a good idea, I won’t fuck you in a shower either.”

He’s confused. You can tell by the way he tilts his head to the side. “Where do you want me to fuck you then? In the middle of the living room?”

It makes you chuckle, and an unexpected smile appears on his lips.

“I don’t think we should fuck.”

His grip on your ass tightens as his features turn dark, and he makes you grind on him again. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, embarrassingly so, as you let out a breathy moan. “Right,” he says.

“Fuck,” you curse.

He leans forward again, and this time his lips find a spot right over the top of your bikini. He sucks on your skin, and you moan as you grind again.

It’s uncomfortable. Not his lips on you, no, but the water of the tub mixed with the fabric of your swimwear. If you didn’t know how unsanitary it is, you would let him fuck you right then and there. But you don’t want to get an infection.

“Let’s go inside.” This time, one of his hands moves from your ass, trailing up your side until he’s grabbed one of your boobs. “Please.”

“Anything for you,” he mumbles against your breast, before straightening.

You kiss him again, just for good measure, and then you push away from him, reluctantly so. You feel his heavy gaze on you as you get out of the tub, and you’ve wrapped yourself in your towel by the time he’s followed you.

You forgot how tall he is. Because as he steps closer to you, towering above you, your mind goes blank again and you just let him crash his lips against yours. He’s holding your face, and his thumbs brush your skin gently before he pulls away. He stays close enough for you to feel his warm breath on you, but far enough so that you can’t reach his lips anymore.

“I need to take a shower,” you murmur.

He nods, and you feel it more than you see it. “Me too.”

“Yeah.”

He chuckles lightly, and he straightens to look up at the sky. His hands are still delicately holding your cheeks, and you watch his sharp jawline for a few seconds before he speaks.

“The stars are beautiful.”

You’re not looking at the night sky when you reply, “Yeah”.

He lets you go, then, but his hand falls until he’s grabbed one of yours. His large hand wraps around yours, and you let him do it, heart settling to a calmer beat in your chest.

“Do you want to dance?” he asks.

You stiffen. It feels strange to have him ask that. You almost forgot that he is a dancer too, in his soul, even though his physical body doesn’t permit him to let loose anymore.

“You want to dance?”

He has a soft smile on his lips when he meets your gaze. It’s miles away from the intensity it held just a moment ago, and you can’t help but offer him a smile of your own.

“Yes.”

You don’t want to refuse. Not when it feels like this moment matters. As if you’re about to create a core memory, and maybe you are.

Maybe you are.

The night sky is filled with stars. Distant burning constellations, and they wink at the two of you as Jungkook leads you through a slow dance. His steps are sure tonight, albeit a little mechanical, and his hand on the small of your back feels like a weight anchoring you into the present.

Up above, the stars just shine on and on, endlessly, for eternity. And you feel like eternity. You feel small and big, unimportant yet cataclysmic. He is cataclysmic. He is the start and the end, like the story is weaved into the tapestry of the universe itself.

And maybe it is.

“Thank you,” he murmurs after you’ve moved in time with him for a little eternity – your little eternity.

His voice is heavy. It holds the weight of the universe, and you reach up to cup his cheek, to anchor him in this moment with you.

“I’m happy to be here with you.”

His eyes are shining. Like the stars above, and the ones you’re starting to see behind his pupils. He hasn’t looked away from you since you started dancing, and you from him. You don’t think you can.

“I forgot how it felt to dance,” he admits.

Though he has danced since the accident. You’ve seen him dance, but maybe his heart wasn’t into it. Maybe his heart is in the moment now, maybe it’s beating in sync with all of your steps.

“How does it feel?” you ask, smiling up at him.

“Liberating. Like I’m just one of the stars in the sky up above.”

You don’t know what that feels like. It makes you realize you’ve never truly felt free. Jeon Jungkook looks at peace now, and you can just hope you’ll get to feel like that one day too.

A cool breeze rises around you, and you shiver as it moves on your skin. Jungkook notices, and he dips his head to kiss you again. Softly, gently, and when he pulls away he says, “Let’s go inside, you’re cold”.

You nod your head, even though you never want the moment to end. But nothing lasts in life – not even the stars above. One day they’ll die too, until all that’s left of them is an empty husk of life.

To you, that’s what love has always been like. It hits and leaves nothing of it behind. Maybe that’s why you step away from Jungkook.

“Yes.”

*****

                The shower you take is short. Scalding hot, until your skin has turned bright red. Only then are you satisfied, and you step out to dry yourself with a towel. You’re gentle with the towel, and you can still feel Jungkook’s hands on you. Can still feel the weight of his eyes on you.

If you could, you’d leave the cottage now. You’d run while you still can, but you can’t.

You can’t, so you step out of the bathroom and make your way to the living room where you both slept the night before. Where he snored softly until the noises he made were entwined with your dreams.

He’s already sitting on his couch when you arrive. His hair is wet from the shower he took in the downstairs bathroom, right next to the room where Chaeyeon and Lance are sleeping. He’s wearing black joggers and an oversized dark grey t-shirt, and he looks inherently comfortable. As if he’s comfort personified. He pushes his hair back as you come into view, offering you another one of his soft smiles.

You didn’t know Jungkook has softness in him. You feel it now: it’s in the way he looks at you, in the curve of his lips and the openness of his gaze.

“I have an idea,” he says, a little cryptically, and his smile turns mischievous. Childish, playful, and you chuckle.

“What is it?”

“I noticed your couch is tiny,” he says, motioning to said couch. “I thought…” He flushes red, before chuckling.

A blushing Jungkook is not a thing you imagined you would ever see someday.

“You thought?” you press on.

“I thought we could put all the cushions on the ground to make like a bed?”

It feels like you shouldn’t. Like you’re not supposed to be sleeping in the same bed as Jeon Jungkook. Especially not after what just happened outside – both the tub and the dance.

“Sure,” you agree nonetheless. “As long as you don’t steal all the blankets.”

He grins. “I would never.”

It’s cute, and it makes you gaze away.

Jungkook makes quick work of creating a bed for the two of you. You help him to move a coffee table away, and soon enough all the couch cushions form a mattress on the ground. You place the pillows you used last night on one end of it, and you’re sitting down just to test the makeshift bed when Jungkook throws the blankets on top of you.

“Jungkook!” you yelp, though you try to keep it to a minimum level so you won’t wake anyone.

He just laughs, and a few seconds later the room falls into darkness. While you’re disentangling yourself from the blankets, you hear a thump, and Jungkook lets out a series of curses that makes you burst out laughing, probably way too loud.

You don’t care.

“Fuck,” he finishes, and you can barely distinguish his silhouette when you’re free of the blankets.

“What happened?”

“I stubbed my toe,” he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck.”

You just laugh again, before moving until you’re on the side you chose for sleeping. “Just come here.”

“I was trying to,” he grumbles, and it sounds like he is pouting.

You’re starting to know him well enough that you know he is pouting.

Once you’re settled on your side of the bed, lying on your back staring up at the ceiling, Jungkook finally moves towards you. He lies on his side of the cushions, pulling a blanket over him. You both have your own blankets, so sleeping right next to each other doesn’t feel too indecent.

It takes your brain only three seconds before it produces an image of the hot tub, and you’re pretty sure the same thing just happened to Jungkook, because he chuckles lowly.

“What?” you ask.

“Nothing.”

You frown in the darkness. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Mmh.”

 You turn until you’re facing him. His silhouette is dark against the lighter background behind him, but you can barely make out his form next to you. You see it when he moves though, as he turns to face you too.

“What are you humming about?”

He chuckles. “Do you like cuddling?”

“You’re not going to get me to cuddle you,” you immediately reply, and you sound just as flustered as you feel.

“You grind on me in the hot tub and then you don’t even want to cuddle me? Outrageous.”

You scoff, and if you weren’t in the dark he’d see your cheeks turning scarlet. “We both know where cuddling would lead.”

His voice is husky when he speaks. “You think you can’t resist me?”

It makes the ‘never back down from a challenge’ part of you tickle until you find yourself replying, “I’ll be the big spoon”.

He snorts, but he turns until he’s facing away from you. You hesitate for a time, but you eventually move closer to him, until you’ve wrapped an arm around his stomach. You rest your forehead against his back, and you hope he can’t hear the loud beats of your heart.

His body is warm. Comfortably so, and you know you could drift to sleep easily just lying next to him like this.

Why then are you unable to fully close your eyes? Why then do you decide to move closer, until his ass is pressed against you? It makes you gulp, and some wild and foolish part of you wishes you could be under his skin.

You don’t think you could ever be close enough to him to satiate the hunger that’s forming in your core.

Jungkook moves his arm, and a second later he’s wrapping his hand around yours. You let him do it, and you’re surprised when he brings your hand up to press a light kiss on your knuckles.

You wish you were still drunk. Because then you could blame your next words on the alcohol.

“Actually, can you be the big spoon?”

He sounds like he’s smirking when he says, “Yeah, of course”.

A few seconds later the positions are reversed, and Jungkook molds his body to yours, wrapping his tattooed arm around your frame, putting his other one under your head. It fits too well, like it was meant to be, and maybe this moment really was always meant to be.

Maybe you were bound to hate him until you found yourself cuddled up to him in the dead of night at a cottage on the countryside.

“Your hair smells good,” Jungkook says, and he shifts impossibly closer. You feel his lips on your head as he inhales, and the arm around your waist tightens as he pulls you flush against him.

“Thank you,” you answer, breathlessly. Because you are breathless in his arms, you are breathless feeling all of his firm body against all of yours.

Breathless enough so that you shift, and your ass moves against him.

“Uh,” Jungkook lets out. He laughs a little, and his tattooed hand moves up until he’s brushing his thumb on the side of your jaw. “You shouldn’t do that.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you want me to do?”

He thinks for a time. “What I want you to do and what you want seem to be two completely different things.”

It’s a little somber, the way he says it, and you bite your lip. Because he’s right, sort of. You’re not sure you want to have sex with him. But what started in the hot tub is bound to finish someday, is it not?

“You’re confusing me,” you admit. “You’ve been confusing me all weekend.”

His hand leaves your jaw, and he moves your hair out of the way as he leans. His lips press a tentative kiss on your neck, and your ass immediately shifts against him again.

“So have you,” he declares. “You’ve been confusing me for weeks.”

His revelation only makes you want him even more. And you’ve rarely wanted someone the way your body has been craving for Jungkook. Because that’s what it is: your body has been craving for him since the hot tub. And you’re about to succumb to your desires, aren’t you?

“Jungkook…”

He sucks on your skin, but not hard enough to leave a hickey. It still makes heat pool at your core, and you push your ass back against his dick once more.

“Fuck,” he curses. “We should go to sleep.”

Though this time he grinds against you, and you can feel the start of his erection on your ass.

“Right,” you agree.

And you move against him, earning a grunt from him. He murmurs your name, before saying, “I don’t have any condoms”.

All your nerves set on fire. “I don’t care.”

“We shouldn’t…” His sentence is cut short as you grind again, and he sinks his teeth in the soft skin of your neck. It hurts a little, and you know he’s going to leave another hickey on you as soon as he starts sucking.

Your hand shoots behind you, and you grab the back of his head, fingers getting lost in the strands of his hair. His own hand moves down until it settles on your hip, and he guides your movement against him.

He moves away from your neck, pressing a kiss on your shoulder this time. “We shouldn’t have sex,” he says, completing his previous sentence.

“I know.”

“We’re going to have sex,” he adds.

“I know.”

You circle your hips, and his erection is turning hard by the second. You’re soaking your panties, and you just want more of him. You want to get rid of all the fabric between you two and feel his skin directly against yours.

“Oh, Y/n…” he breathes, and then he’s back to kissing your neck.

No sucking this time, just his tongue drawing circles on your skin as you continue moving your ass against his dick.

“You’re already hard.”

“The hot tub got me real horny.”

It had the same effect on you, and you shiver as he bites at your ear. Gently, not to hurt, especially not as he presses a kiss under your ear next.

“Fuck,” you say.

His breathing is warm against the side of your face, and you decide to dive in. To say fuck it with what you should do and what you want to do. You only have one life to live anyway.

The moment your lips touch feels like a dam broke inside of you. Your tongue meets him halfway between your mouths, and he swallows the moan you let out as his fingers move under your shirt. You’re not wearing a bra, and the moan turns to a hiss as he pinches one of your nipples, rolling the sensitive bud between his thumb and index.

He pulls away from the kiss to say, “Can I take off your shorts?”

Because you’re wearing baby blue PJ shorts. Nothing really attractive, but it has no hindering effect on Jungkook’s desire for you, has it?

“Yes,” you answer and he’s back to kissing you in no time.

His fingers do quick work of the knot holding your shorts in place, and he immediately slides his hand in. He slides it under your panties too, and he starts rubbing circles on your clit right away.

You’re going to go insane. He’s worth going insane for.

You grind on his hand, and he moves lower so he can dip his middle finger and ring finger inside of you, up to the first knuckle, before pulling out and rubbing circles on your clit again. Your slick juice renders you oversensitive, and you buck your hips as he starts a hellish rhythm down there, with just the right pressure.              

It’s like he knows his way around your body already.

You try to reach between you, but the way his arm is positioned keeps you from being able to palm him. You whine and it makes him stop his ministrations on your clit.

“Is something wrong?”

“Take off your pants,” you tell him.

“Please?” he taunts you, as if he wants to let you know who’s in control here.

“Please,” you hiss through your teeth, because somehow it infuriates you.

“Good girl,” he praises with his low husky voice.

You’ve never been called a good girl before, and something in the way he says it makes you grind hard against him.

“You like that, uh?” he asks.

“Just take off the fucking pants, Jeon.”

He chuckles but obeys nonetheless. You take off your shorts at the same time, and think about it for half a second before you’re taking your panties off too.

Once you’re both naked from the waist down, you return to the previous cuddling position. Only this time his dick is resting against your ass, and from what you can tell, it really is big.

“Should I finger you to make sure you can take me?” he asks, but it’s rhetorical.

Indeed, he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he plunges two fingers inside of you, arching them to hit a spot inside of you that makes you see stars, shy constellations that add light to the darkness of the cottage. You find purchase on his forearm as he starts thrusting his fingers in and out of you, and he reaches deep inside of you. His palm hits your clit every time he pushes all the way in, and you’re starting to see a whole damn galaxy of stars in no time.

But you want to feel him, want to jerk him off while he’s making you feel good too. So you reach behind you, and this time you’re successful. You’re able to wrap your hand around his cock, and you moan at the feeling of the large girth.

“You’re so fucking wet.”

You moan, nodding your head. “It’s all for you.”

“Oh, I fucking know it is,” he says.

It’s cocky, but you’re too far gone to give him shit for it.

You start jerking him off, slowly because you can’t really move quicker in this position. He stills bucks his hips, fucking your hand, and he starts moving his fingers even faster, hitting your clit even harder.

“Fuck, please play with my clit,” you beg.

“Can’t say no when you ask so nicely,” he says, and he’s back to rubbing circles on your clit.

You clench around nothing as you jerk him off, before you decide to position his dick between your legs. You grind against him, or maybe he makes you grind. You don’t really know. All you can feel is the way his length moves against you. But he never aligns with your entrance, as if he just wants to tease you, and knowing him you’re pretty sure he does.

It stays like this for a while, with him just coating his dick with your slick juice as he keeps rubbing insistent circles on your clit. Your walls clench around nothing, and you whine as he just moves his hips back and forth.

“Fuck me, Jungkook,” you say.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” he asks.

You just whine again.

“I want to hear you say it.”

He’s infinitely infuriating, isn’t he?

“Yes, I fucking want your dick inside of me.”

This time, when he pulls his hips away from you, he makes sure to align with your entrance before pushing forward. And he pushes forward hard, sheathing all of his dick inside of you. Or all of what fits inside of you, because you’re pretty sure he’s way too big to be able to entirely fit.

The moment he hits the back of your pussy you let out a moan. It’s loud, and you immediately put a hand on your mouth to muffle the next noises you’ll make. You think better of it after a few seconds, and you grab the blanket, rolling it in a messy bundle just so you can press it against your face.

“You feel so fucking tight,” he says, and then he grunts when your walls clench around him. “Just relax, baby.”

“I’m just so close,” you admit.

You don’t know when he stopped rubbing circles on your clit. Only know that he starts again now, and you feel the familiar knot of an orgasm starting to form deep in your core.

“Such a fucking good girl”, he praises. “You’re going to come all over my dick.”

You immediately hide your face in the blanket as you moan, unashamedly loud. And then he starts fucking into you, slow and hard, and you lose it. You lose it as the knot uncoils, snaps inside of you, turning every inch of your body into an oversensitive land of pleasure.

Jungkook fucks you through your high, steadily, never once faltering even as your walls pulse hard against him. His fingers keep on rubbing circles on your clit, and he kisses a spot on your neck that makes goosebumps erupt on all of you. It feels so good you could cry, but your high still just keeps on going. Even though you’re in the dark, your vision is white, blindly so.

You don’t know when your hand found its way to the side of his face, only that once you finally come down you have a handful of his hair in your grip.

“That didn’t take long,” Jungkook teases, whispering the words directly into your ear.

He’s not wrong. You don’t think you’ve ever come as hard and quick as you just did.

“Holy fuck,” you mutter.

He has stilled inside of you, and his lips are littering small kisses on your neck. So you feel his smirk against you, and it makes you move. Circling your hips, trying to give him something in return for the orgasm he’s gifted you.

“You’re going to let me come inside of you, mmh?” he asks as you keep on going, a little sloppily from the remnants of your orgasm.

“You think you can come for me?” You’re embarrassingly breathless, still panting because of your high. You take a deep breath as you prop yourself up on an elbow, just so it’s easier to fuck yourself on him.

Jungkooks hums. “I need a little more than that, baby.”

You bite your lips as his tattooed hand finds your breast under your shirt again. “What do you want me to do?”

“Ride me?” he suggests, right as he plants a soft peck on your shoulder.

You moan as he fucks into you hard, unexpectedly. “Anyone could see.”

He whines, but then his hand moves to your hip before he starts pounding into you again. You hide your face in the blanket again, trying to muffle your sounds. Jungkook is not faring a lot better than you, and his grunts send shivers all over you. He doesn’t talk again until he’s slowed down.

“They can already see us.”

He’s not wrong, and you hate it. But you doubt someone will get up at this hour of the night, closer to the morning than to yesterday. He pushes in once more, hard and rough.

“Fuck,” he curses, and he entirely stops moving.

He even pulls out, and you turn to look at him. Your eyes have adjusted to the dark a little now, and you can see his features enough to see him wincing in pain.

“Is something wrong?” you immediately ask.

“My leg hurts.”

His three words fall softly in the night, the way a feather falls. It shifts the atmosphere, making your heart ache in your chest.

“Oh, Jungkook…”

“Ride me,” he says, and it sounds begging.

As if he needs it to forget the pain. You don’t think you have it in you to refuse, so you straddle him. Before you sink on his dick, you lean down to press a kiss to his lips, hoping to chase the pain away. Your hands hold you up on his shoulders, and his move to your hips, before sliding down until he’s holding your ass in his large palms. He massages the muscles of your ass as you kiss, tongues meeting in a deep and languid dance.

When you’re out of breath, lungs burning for oxygen, you straighten and sit on his dick. You circle your hips, teasing him a little and also making sure that he’s still hard. He is, his dick a rod of steel, and you bite at your lower lip as you grab him with one hand to align him with your entrance. He’s looking through half-lidded eyes as you do so, and his eyes shut as you sink all the way down on him, until his dick reaches your cervix.

His mouth falls open and he moans softly. It’s a pretty sound, meant for your ears only, and it makes you feel powerful. You feel powerful as you move up and down, slowly, feeling every vein of his dick on your walls. You clench as you sink back down, and his hands on your ass tighten their hold for a few seconds before he moves to your hips to guide you.

He makes you go faster, and as if he can’t resist he’s soon fucking up into you.

You put a hand on his cheek, brushing his cheekbone with a thumb. His eyes flutter open and he stills, seeing the look on your face.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“I can do the work, don’t hurt your leg,” you tell him. You grab his hands from your hips to move them to your breasts under your shirt. And then you start moving, for real this time, quick and hard. You add a little bit of circling of your hips, just to make sure he stretches you wide.

And he does. Jungkook is huge, and you don’t wonder why he’s so cocky anymore. He’s got the kind of dick to be cocky about.

“Alright then,” Jungkook lets out between two soft moans.

You smirk, but it dies when one of his hands moves from your breast to your neck through the collar of your shirt. You grab his forearm, and your eyes flutter shut as he digs his fingers in your arteries, cutting the blood supply to your brain. It feels good, far more than it should, as all you can feel is his dick in you.

You let out a breathy sound, walls clenching on him again.

“That’s it, baby, you’re so good,” he praises, and he sounds different than he did before.

He’s more out of breath, as if he’s exhausted. And maybe he is, as he’s nearing his orgasm. It only encourages you more, and your nails dig in his forearm, hard enough to mark him.

“Fuck,” he curses, and he releases his hold on your neck. His hand doesn’t move, but it’s now just resting on your throat, and he’s not squeezing anymore.

“Fill me up, JK,” you say. “I want to feel you come inside of me.”

“Let me fuck you a little,” he replies. And he pulls you down by the neck, until he’s satisfied with the angle.

You want to say something about his leg but he’s already pounding into you, so hard your face falls in the crook of his neck as your hands get lost in his hair. Your lips meet his skin, and you suck hard, fully intending to leave a mark there. At this point you’re pretty convinced someone’s ought to know you’re fucking anyway, so why not show that he’s yours?

The thought sobers you up. But Jungkook is already coming, so you hold on strong sucking another spot on his neck as he groans and releases ropes and ropes of his cum inside of you. And he comes a lot, painting your insides white. You like it far more than you should.

Another thought to sober you up.

It takes Jungkook a little longer before he finally stops moving, and he lets out a content sigh as he wraps his arms around your waist to hold you close.

“We should have done this before,” he murmurs.

You try to sit up, but he keeps you from moving. “We shouldn’t have done this.” Even as you’re saying that you press another kiss to his neck. A soft one, just because he tastes too good, and you know the moment is about to come to an end.

“Uh?” he lets out.

His dick is still deep inside of you when you say, “We shouldn’t have fucked”.

He pushes you away now. Not hard, but it’s like your touch burns him and he needs to be away from you.

“Why?”

You sit next to him, and your cheeks burn as you feel his seed spill out of you, only to stain the blanket you previously used to muffle your moans.

“We’re barely even friends,” you point out.

He’s not watching you. His eyes are fixed on an empty spot on the cushionless couch next to which you’re laying. “Okay?”

“It’s just weird, no?”

You reckon you don’t know what you’re saying. You don’t know why you decided to say it right now either. It’s as if the words just need to get out.

“It’s just sex,” he says, and it sounds a little angry. “People have sex all the time.”

“But not us. You know, I don’t like you like that.”

A big fat lie if you’ve ever said one. You did like having sex with him. You’re just panicking, your fight or flight instinct having been suddenly triggered.

“Chill, Y/n,” he mutters, and he sighs heavily. “We just fucked. We can pretend nothing happened, if that’s what you want.”

You don’t know what you want. Some part of you wants to take the evening back, but at the same time not. You’re confusing to yourself, and your teeth dig in the tip of your tongue for a moment as you think.

“What would you want to say this is?” you ask after a little too long for the silence to be comfortable.

He finally looks at you. “Nothing, honestly. We just got horny and we’re the only single people here, it was bound to happen.”

Now, his words hurt a little, but you can see the truth behind them. “Right,” you say. “So, just friends?”

He holds your gaze. It’s too dark for you to be able to interpret anything on his features. “Sure.”

You feel bad. Remorseful. And you think about the hot tub, and the fucking too, but also about the dance outside. You reckon your fight or flight was triggered then, you’ve just been ignoring it ever since you came in.

Ever since you got out of the bathroom to see Jungkook and his softness. The softness is gone now, and he looks away from you before sitting up too. He searches around for his pants, and puts them on as you scan the scene for your own clothes.

“Can you…” you start, but he’s already throwing your shorts and panties at you.

He’s pissed. It’s evident now, clear as spring water, and you feel even worse. You didn’t want to upset him. There’s just too much history between you, too much individual history on your part too.

You’ve never been in a relationship. You’ve never been able to even imagine being in a relationship. And it usually leads to scenes like this: the men you sleep with getting upset with you. You don’t blame them, can’t blame them.

But it feels different with Jungkook. Worse, as if you don’t want the outcome to be him being upset with you. You just don’t know anything else, and so you put your clothes on. Even as he gets up to go clean up in the bathroom, muttering that he’ll be right back.

Even as he comes back and settles on the makeshift bed again, his back turned to you. The message is clear then: he doesn’t want to talk to you. You reckon you can always talk to him tomorrow. Can always let the night pass, and with it the fight or flight. It’s not like he’s going to be gone tomorrow, and you won’t be either.

You get up, sighing heavily as you go to the bathroom to clean up too.

 Jungkook is dead silent when you come back. If he was asleep, you know he would be snoring softly, as last night showed you. But no, he’s dead silent, as if he’s just ruminating in his corner.

It makes you feel too bad to remain silent.

“Jungkook,” you let out softly, his name barely over a whisper.

“Mmh?” he hums.

“I’m sorry if I upset you.”

He sighs, long and deep, before turning on his back. “Don’t worry about it.”

He’s stupid if he thinks telling you so will make it so you don’t worry. You’re always worrying anyway.

“Okay,” you still say. “It was great though, don’t take me wrong.”

He chuckles, and it’s bitter. “Listen, if you want us to pretend like it never happened, let’s start right now.”

He’s closed off. He was open earlier, a book for you to read. Maybe you’ve ripped the pages away, or maybe you’ve thrown the book off a cliff.

But it’s safer this way. It’s safer to keep Jungkook at an arm’s length. It’s where you keep everyone besides Jiho anyway.

“Okay, sorry,” you apologize. “Good night?”

He sighs once more. “Yeah, good night.” And then he turns away, and it hits you.

You won’t ever be the one to see Jungkook’s softness again.

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.............................. please don't hate me <3 how was this chapter? How was the smut? I hope it hit good haha! Let me know what you thought!

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[elizabeth-holland24]

The Beast Within-Chapter 8

The sound of raised voices drew a crowd near the village tavern. Pete stood in the centre of the commotion, his face flushed with anger and exhaustion. His clothes were still damp from the night spent lost in the forest, and his hand trembled as he pointed accusingly at Gaston.

“You left me to die in the woods!” Pete’s voice cracked with a mixture of fury and disbelief. “You tied me to that tree, and you rode off like a coward. Do you deny it?”

Gaston, leaning lazily against the tavern wall, wore his trademark smirk. He crossed his arms, looking every bit the hero he claimed to be. “Old man, you’re delusional. Why would I waste my time on you?”

The crowd murmured, unsure who to believe. Pete’s frantic eyes scanned the villagers, searching for anyone who might defend him.

“He’s lying! He left me there because I wouldn’t support his ridiculous plan to force my daughter to marry him. He thought he could get rid of me and no one would care!” Pete’s voice grew louder, desperation dripping from every word.

Gaston laughed, his tone dripping with condescension. “You’re embarrassing yourself, Pete. Maybe you got lost because you’re too old to find your way home. But if you’re going to make wild accusations, at least make them believable.”

Pete’s hands balled into fists. “You’re a liar and a coward. The whole village should know the truth about whom you really are!”

“The truth?” Gaston’s grin faded, replaced by a dangerous glint in his eyes. He stepped forward, his imposing figure casting a shadow over Pete. “Careful, old man. You are starting to sound a little crazy. You wouldn’t want to say something you’ll regret.”

The tension was palpable, the crowd holding its collective breath. Pete held his ground, but it was clear the confrontation had taken its toll. His body shook with anger and fear, yet he refused to back down.

“I’ll find proof,” Pete spat. “And when I do, this entire village will know exactly what kind of man you are.”

Gaston’s smirk returned, but his eyes betrayed his irritation. “Good luck with that,” he said, his tone mockingly polite. “You’re going to need it.”

As Pete turned to leave, the crowd began to disperse, their whispers filling the air. Gaston watched him go, his jaw clenched and his fists tightening at his sides. The facade of indifference he projected was starting to crack.

Back in the Castle Jake paced his room, his paws thudding softly against the stone floor. He rubbed the back of his neck, his frustration palpable. “I don’t know what to do,” he admitted, his voice low and tense. “Every time I try to do something for her, I end up making it worse. She’s hurting because of me.” Bradley, raised an eyebrow. “Jake, you didn’t cause this. Stop blaming yourself.” “Yeah,” Javy chimed in from his spot by the window. “You’re going to wear a hole in the floor with all that pacing. Just talk to her.” Jake stopped, running a hand through his hair. “But what if I say the wrong thing? What if I make it worse? She deserves better than that. Better than me.” Bradley straightened, his expression softening. “Sometimes people don’t need solutions. They just require someone to be there. Let her know it’s okay to feel what she’s feeling. Listen to her. Be her friend.” Javy nodded in agreement. “You care about her, right? Then show her. Just be there for her.” Jake exhaled, nodding slowly. “Alright. I’ll talk to her.”

In Mausis Room Jake stood outside Mausi’s door, his hand hovering uncertainly over the wood. He took a deep breath and knocked softly. “Mausi? It’s me. Look, I… I know you probably want to be alone right now, but I just wanted to say I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. I…” He trailed off, his nerves getting the better of him. The door creaked open, and Jake looked up to see Mausi standing there. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her expression weary but curious. She raised an eyebrow at his nervous rambling. “Jake,” she said softly, a small chuckle escaping her lips. “It’s okay.” He froze, startled by her sudden appearance. “I… I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” he repeated, his words tumbling out awkwardly. “And that… I… I mean, we were starting to be friends, weren’t we?” Mausi’s expression softened. “We were. And I don’t blame you for what happened. It’s just… a lot.” She hesitated, her voice trembling. “Finding out Pete isn’t my father… and that my mother died because of me… it’s hard not to feel like it’s all my fault.” Jake’s heart ached at the pain in her voice. He stepped closer, his tone firm but gentle. “It’s not your fault, Mausi. None of it. When I saw your mother holding you, I could see how much she loved you. You were her world. And as for your… biological father, it’s his loss. He missed out on knowing someone brave, kind, strong, and… beautiful.” Mausi’s eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat. No one, except for Pete and Mr. Kazansky, had ever spoken to her like that. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around Jake, holding him tightly. Jake stiffened at first, unaccustomed to such vulnerability. But slowly, he relaxed, his arms encircling her in return. The warmth of her embrace brought a flood of memories he’d long buried—the last time someone had hugged him like this, he’d been a child, grieving the loss of his own parents. When Mausi pulled back, she offered him a small, shy smile. “Sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know what came over me.” Jake cleared his throat, his cheeks tinged with a faint blush. “It’s… it’s alright. Actually, I… I had an idea.” “An idea?” Mausi tilted her head curiously. “Yeah. You remember how we were talking about having some real fun? I was thinking… what if we organized a ball? Just us and everyone here. What do you think?” Mausi’s eyes lit up, but she hesitated. “A ball? I… I’ve never been to one before. What if I embarrass myself?” Jake smiled, his confidence returning. “You could never embarrass yourself. And if you’re worried, I’ll be there to lead you. We could even go together… if you want.” Her cheeks flushed, and she nodded shyly. “Okay. I’d like that.” For the first time in what felt like forever, Jake saw a genuine smile on Mausi’s face. It was enough to make his heart race, and he couldn’t help but smile back. At that moment, amidst the pain and uncertainty, there was a flicker of hope—a reminder that even in the darkest times, light could still be found.

A/N: I'm back, so I'm really sorry this chapter is so short I wanted the ball part of the story to have its own moment hence why it will be another chapter I will be uploading it in a few hours. But yeah, hope you like this chapter, and unfortunately we are reaching the end of the story I think they are like 6–7 chapters left I think. remember to like, comment or weblog and tell me your thoughts. Thank you so much for the love and support on this story. Don't forget to comment, like and reblog, so I know if you are enjoying it.  Love you guys and thanks for reading  <3

[bitchlessdino]

Vernon and The Beastly Heir (Tw: flashing banner)

Pairing: son of Gaston!Vernon x afab!reader

Genre: angst, fantasy au, smut

Word count: 9.5k

tags: features seokmin and chan, E2L, royal!reader, fairy tale academia (college), child of beauty and beast!reader, mentions of blood, mentions of weapons, aggressive!vernon, aggressive!reader, mentions of alcohol, strangulation, stalking, sub!vernon, hair pulling (reader giving), mommy kink (reader identifies as they/them but accepting), handjobs, choking, oral (reader rec.), spitting (vern receiving), cumplay, cum eating, unprotected sex, creampies

Summary: Everyone knows the story of beauty and the beast. Well, that was your parents and now you're attending college with the son of Gaston of all people. You're ready to start fresh with him but it seems like all he wants to do is kill you.

author note: here he is, just took me two? three weeks. i hope you guys enjoy. it's quite different from what i usually write and just hope it translates well. next off is a spinoff heheh

tag list: @shiningstar-byulxx @misssugarlips @tommolex @hoeforhao @honglynights @homerunhansol @dkakapizzaboy @junhui-recs @svtup @buffhoshi @meowmeowminnie @caratochan @lovebot4han

You only knew about Vernon through his ancestry. His father tried to kill yours, but your father happened to be successful in killing his.

Vernon was born out of wedlock after the news of his father’s passing, and his mother would tell her son all kinds of disfigured tales of his father’s past. She called him the most handsome of all the land, the strongest, most beloved. He was a true man’s man. She was always so hopelessly in love with him. Many women were, unlike your mother, who was the one that was actually the so-called apple of his eye.

Your mother was almost forced to marry his father when he threatened your grandfather’s life. He would use him as leverage, keeping her within reach until she eventually met your father in his most hideous form. Despite appearances and circumstances, your father became her savior.

Vernon’s father, Gaston, would not dare dream of a world where your mother had fallen for anyone else, let alone such a ‘hairy grotesque and daunting being’.

Alas, that’s exactly what happened and Gaston was so far deep in his narcissism that he couldn’t see the truth in front of him. Perhaps he couldn't see he was claiming a woman that wanted nothing to do with because he gallivanted around town to trap other women with his charisma. They all worshiped at his feet, how would your mother be any different? Countless lovers, far and wide, Vernon’s mother being one of them. Time would tell soon enough came after their night together, following Vernon’s birth–fatherless and supportless–and eventually Gaston’s downfall. 

A bastard.

Gaston underestimated your father and paid the ultimate price, falling into an abyss, and meeting the thick shards of rock waiting for him below. 

As a child, you found this story difficult to grasp, as death was still a foreign concept. Now hearing about it from time to time, it became only a piece of history. A remarkably relatable piece of history.

Regardless, you hadn’t been born then, and neither had he. You were strangers. You shouldn’t have had a problem with each other. 

Yet, he glared at you the moment you took your first steps into university together. You recognized him since he and his father were almost duplicates of one another. He had his father's devilishly good looks, broad build, and effortless smolder that had people weak at their knees. He was just as beautiful as everyone said. However, his glare burned through you like a rising phoenix, shooting through your body in a blazing heat every time you were in the same room. Did he despise you as much as he looked like he did?

You confirmed your assumptions in your swordsman’s class. You always admired the strength of a sword welder. You practiced it on your own in secret back at home, confident in your skill. But by the looks of it, Vernon had a similar sentiment, performing tremendously with the weapon in his hand.

It came at a time you’d spar, and you could swear you saw your life flash before your eyes. When you drew your swords, his quick footing took you by immediate surprise. A flurry of his offenses came in your direction, taking you on at full force. You could only hear the clangs of metal and your grunts, perspiration trickling down your face and back. You tried to relay the same force, fighting as if your life was on the line. You knew the strength you had, but Vernon was startlingly superior. He was effortlessly swift, moving like a course of water, almost hitting you with every attack.

Your heart pounded out of your chest, staring back at the impenetrable darkness in his eyes. Slash after slash. Clang after clang. Pure murder was all he could see. This man was merciless, determined to make you meet an end. You just didn’t know if it meant the end of the lesson or your life.

Finally, his final strike swiped your cheek. The blade caressed the side of your face in a swift stroke, and a thinly veiled tear on your skin revealed the moment the sword is back to his side and you were stricken on the ground. You gasp in shock, eyes shooting up at the pain, and you tried not to tarnish your regal status any more than you already had with crying.

Never let your emotions control you, your father said many times.

You felt the blood dripping from the side of your face only to quickly wipe away with your uniform sleeve. Your eyes forced forward in Vernon’s direction, not even an ounce of guilt in his eyes as he walked away in his silent victory. You tightened your fist, tempted to slam them on the hard floor in frustration, while flushed throughout your entire being.

In your rare moment of weakness, you could hear light but quick footsteps approaching. Seokmin’s kind eyes stared back at yours as he came to your aid. His long legs swung beneath him in urgency before placing himself next to you. His honey-sweet timbre stroked your side, the twinkle in his eyes startling you as used his sheer strength to princely lift you up in his arms. Making it to the nurse’s office, his warm smile took your body temperature to new heights and the caged butterflies in your stomach broke free under his gentle touch.

Unlike Vernon, Seokmin didn’t despise you. He brought up a point of how similar you were the longer you spent time together. His mother too was once trapped in a curse only to have her love conquer all in the end. He carved for a story like theirs one day. There was enough commonality between you both for simulating conversations. And much like how much you heard about the half-mermaid, his voice was an extraordinary gift, capable of moving sailors and boatmen just as effectively. Just as it’s moved you. It was one of the things you found so devastatingly attractive about him.

You couldn’t help but fall for Seokmin that day. He was like sun rays peeking through the blinds of windows. It was just unfortunate how you had met, seconds upon the decision of Vernon sparing you from death.

At least Vernon had the decency to not come across you again. Since the incident took place, you hardly come in close contact with him. And you hadn’t planned on encountering him again.

The world worked in funny ways when they assigned you with him again a month later, this time forcing you to give a historical presentation. The moment your names were called together, even amongst the student body, the temperature between you in Vernon ran cold. Apparently, your feud with Vernon preceded itself. They feared for their lives as they tore away from you, afraid to get caught in the heat of the fire.

You turn to Vernon, matching his indifferent expression, thinking what a cruel world it was to bring you back into the hands of your attempted murderer. You clenched your fist before forcing out an agreeable tone of voice. “I don’t like this any more than you do.”

He remained silent, eyes away from you, avoidant.

“It’s only for two weeks. It’ll be fine.” You were unsure if you were saying this was to him or yourself.

He swallowed before he picked up his things and stood up from his desk. “Belle Library at 3:30. The faster we get it done, the sooner I don’t have to see your face.”

With that, he walks off, a lingering sting to your self-esteem.

Just the simple phrase from his mouth made your blood heat past the boiling point. Someone had never put you off to this extent. The strength it’ll take for you to get through this project would require more than patience. It would require compliance.

When the time arrived, he was there, seated at the table, waiting for your arrival. The next hour or two went smoother than you expected: mainly quiet besides the page flipping, the typing, and the occasionally exchanged muttering. Yet, you can see this would somehow work. You ignored the hardened gaze of his. It was like pins and needles all over your body. A prolonged sting took precedence on any of your other senses, but you’d just have to deal.

Without saying much, it felt like a quiet truce, just to get past this one assignment. For that, it would be fine.

For the next few days, you continued to meet with him to make progress. You didn’t hate him any less than you did some time ago, but he was tolerable enough that you didn't mind working with him. He did his parts as you did yours, having your collaborated presentation look rather, well, presentable. You could almost taste the end of the suffering. You couldn't help but give him a small smile seeing him work so diligently like it wasn’t him months ago drawing blood from your face.

“We’re almost done. Wow. And plenty of the time during the weekend,” you said rather lightheartedly.

He surprised you by giving you a lazy nod, agreeable to your statement.

“We’re not such a bad team. Maybe after this, we can get lunch or something.”

That’s when Vernon halted his movements, hands hovering over his keyboard before looking back at you to find the cold steel reflecting in his eyes. He cocked his head, scoffing, a new–but familiar–emotion erupting on his face.

 “I don’t think so, beastie.”

You were taken aback, blinking back at him in bemusement. “Excuse me?”

“Funny you had to ask,” he responded with a crooked smile. “You’re excused.”

You scoffed, gritting your teeth back at him before clicking your tongue on the roof of your mouth in a tsk. “What the hell is your problem?”

He rolled his eyes before gathering his things and stood up from the table. “We’ll pick things up from tomorrow when you can keep your ‘instincts’ under control. I need a break from you”

It took every atom in your body not to rip him from limb to limb from his foul words, mumbling under your breath curses of misfortune on him and his descendants. There was peace, even tranquility, and he had to go and mess that up. If there was a doubt in your head about how you felt about Vernon, it was clear now you could stand him and never will.

Though working through the weekend hadn’t been the plan, it’s what you ended up doing when he commanded you over messenger that there will still be work to do. God, was he the worst. You would object to his command if the project didn’t hold double digits in the percentage of your semester grade, so in the end, compliance had the best in you.

In attire not meant for regal activities or even lecture halls, you reunited with him in the same corner you both always occupied in your sweats and messy pulled-back hair. “Let’s get this over with.”

On the other hand, Vernon was effortlessly handsome in casual clothing, hair hidden underneath a beanie as he grunted back at you and you got back to work. The silence persisted, and you’re back to where you started: tolerating each other in hopes of an end.

The assignment took longer than usual today, seeing as there was a piece of information that was proven inaccurate and needed to be changed on every slide. You huffed on in frustration, parched, and took a long swig from your water bottle, his smug expression taunting you from across the table. 

“Stupid…stupid…” You muttered to yourself for letting a mistake like that happened, knowing Vernon had only more murder fuel to hold against you. 

“Glad you’re self-aware.”

You slammed the desk, unbothered by who would hear. It was empty anyway besides the librarian. No one would be here on a weekend you were.

“I am really sick and tired of your snarky attitude.”

He stood up, slamming back the same force into the desk, the toxicity in his eyes back wide and piercing. “Like you’re easy to work with? Hard to believe you can work a computer with your incompetence.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now? You imbecile.” You leaned forward to sink in his hair-raising glare, not backing down for once, and let the inner ‘beast’ you have trickled over the surface. “Just because you hate me doesn’t mean I deserve to be treated like shit. Mind you, I am a person.”

He leaned in closer, lips bitten red in frustration. “Hardly. Don’t think I don’t see you for the animal you are. You mindless, senseless, spawn of an abomination.”

Fury ran through your veins as you lunged at him, hands coming at him like you were rabid, feeling his strong arms come up beside you. He struggled under your weight, fighting back for a moment until gradually they gave up and let the length of your hand close around his neck. He stared back at you in anticipation, eyes flicking in a light that you had never seen before. One you couldn’t even identify if you tried. “Do it. Kill me. Like father, like offspring.”

Your teeth chattered as if you were freezing but you couldn’t be any more hot. You sucked a gasp of anguished, hatred being your lone source of fuel. Tears blurred your eyes in animosity before your grip tightened, seeing the life slowly escape his lungs as his lips quivered. His arms fell at their wingspan against his side, eyes closing in acceptance. He looked like he’s finally made peace, yet it couldn’t be under more violent circumstances. In a moment of clarity, you released your grasp, kicking him from the ground at his shin before pulling yourself up from the ground.

“Fuck you.” You spat and stormed off.

You’d swallow dragon scales before letting him win. You wouldn’t give the satisfaction of a justified ending where you’d end up the villain.

He was the villain. He’s always been the one antagonizing you and for a moment you gave in. You’d be taking lashes from the actual devil himself before letting that happen again.

You remembered how it felt with your hands around his throat, tightening every passing second. It was times like that, you feared who you were. How much of the ‘beast’ had you inherited. Besides hating him with all of your heart, your hand in ending someone’s life was terrifying but almost thrilling. 

Whatever it was, you had to ignore it, and that meant ignoring Vernon. Every inch of his beauty was easily disposable under your touch. That was more power than you could handle. You were never one to play god, even as royalty.

Using your better judgment, you finished your half of the project alone, not bothering to keep your appointments with him and rather your grade to take a hit than spend another insufferable second with him. At the deadline, you presented together with an obvious distance apart, resulting in a good enough grade that maybe the time spent together had been worth it.

It was the end, finally an end.

“You tarnished my hard work with your petty feelings.”

You rolled your eyes back at him as he confronted you in an abandoned section of the department building, often only occupied with silence. “You brought on your feelings first. I wasn't going to let you push me around. You’re so set on the delusion that I’m the reason for everything wrong in your life.”

He mocked your statement with a humorless laugh. “It’s not for no reason. I despise you.”

“And why, when I don’t know you? I’ve hardly spoken to you, even with the project occurring, you just glare back at me like some angsty little teenager like you’re annoyed at the world. Like I’m the problem.”

“Oh, in every way, you are,” he said, “Had it not been for you, I could’ve lived a normal life.”

“And how is that my fault?”

He took a step forward. “You and your fucking family that’s plaster all over town, constantly reminding me of what you’ve done to my family.”

“Me?” You said with wide eyes, “Your father held my mother hostage and tried to kill my father.”

“You think I don’t know the type of man my father was? The lies he spewed, the women he slept with, the fantastical delusions he fed my mother when she gave herself to him. I’m not a fool, beastie, but you and your family let my mother a widow, abandoned to her thoughts, and helpless child.”

Your expression softened, his words cutting through deeper than any insult he’s ever thrown at you, leaving a wallowing angst in the pit of your stomach.

“I had to be the one to take care of her, not the other way around. You and your father, your mother, everyone around you that exposed my mother to the life she’s lived…at least if my father had been around, perhaps she wouldn’t have gone insane.”

Desperation choked in his throat, eyes glassy from tears you never knew he could make. Your throat felt dry, for once lacking a comeback to respond with. You were immersed in the pain in his voice, the urgency in his body language. It was everything opposite to the Vernon you hated. Why? Why now?

“I…had no control over that.” Now you were crying, feeling the tension melt involuntarily.

You felt him crumble in front of you, falling over his harsh sobs and he fell limp on your arms, tears staining your sweater. He squeezes your arm through the fabric, desperate to be holding on to something, “She died, because of you, fucks. She only wanted to be happy…but why couldn’t I be enough?”

You didn’t know how to handle an emotional man, let alone one that was out to get you, but you let your arms come around him in an embrace. You held tight around him as the tears poured out of him like a river, returning the warmth, and forgetting he was ever screaming at you in the first place.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…you are enough Vernon. You are.” he gripped your harder, completely buried in your presence and lost in the breakdown.

You don’t remember how it ended, frankly, it was a blur. All you could remember was the heat of your sympathetic tears merging with the heat of his pained ones. Your embrace had not come close to anything you’ve once had, then again your relationship was anything but ordinary. By the time you went along with your normal day-to-day, the air had changed. Once charged with malice and disgust, now one with quiet and avoidant. Like you couldn’t bear to look at each other.

The image will forever be ingrained in your mind, as well as the weak ache in his voice as he tore himself to shreds. 

Your family never thought to visit Gaston’s family after his passing. It was no use since they’d only seen the blind fury as Vernon did, as for this mother, however, she was a normal girl in love who had lost the man she was in love with while she carried his child. Of course, that had to be heartbreaking, even if it was Gaston. Vernon had every right to be angry, fuming, having never known his father, and now having lost his mother, he was simply on a warpath. You just happened to face his wrath. 

Did it excuse any of his words or actions? No, but now you had answers. 

No matter. That was a mere months ago and you’ve had no reason to have spoken to each other since. Your father would have words for something like this. Dwelling had no place in what you have in store.

Vernon would just have to be placed on the back burner of your mind.

As of now, there was one thing to look forward to, and that was the winter formal. As a Royal, the opportunities you had to look exceptionally presentable were in front of your Royal duties or facing the brittle bones of members of parliament. This time you were dressed your best for leisure. Excitement filled every orifice of your body seeing the typically ordinary halls of your college splay posters of the event. It wouldn’t be difficult to find a way to get there or find the perfect outfit, but now all you needed was a date.

Your eyes wandered off to Seokmin, his smile dazzling as always as he engaged with his classmates. You don’t think you were obvious about your infatuation until you let out a loud sigh, causing the giggles to the left of you from Chan. As expected for the child of Tinkerbell. Mischief followed everywhere he went.

“How unbecoming of someone in line for a throne.”

You lightly elbowed the demi-fairy, playful sneering at him, watching the tuffs of his bright blond bounce wistfully in the wind. “Quiet, pest. I’m finally in a good mood.”

He slouched against the bench, following your gaze chuckling. “Just ask him out. It’s the perfect time.”

You scoffed. “And make a fool of myself? Not interested.”

“You don’t know that.”

“And I don’t want to risk it either.”

“May I remind you of your legacy? He’d be blind to reject your advances, your highness,” he said light-heartedly using your title.

You were meant to be poised and regal but Seokmin made you feel like an average person falling for their school crush. The effect he had on you was some sort of phenomenon. You’re surrounded by attractive people every day yet he’s the one who currently carried a piece of your naive little heart that believed you could have a true fairytale ending.

Ultimately, you sighed, turning to your friend with a solemn glance before pulling yourself off from the bleachers. “Let's just get to class, Chan.”

Chan gave you an indecipherable look mixed with defeat but didn’t press on further, joining you in your next class.

It had come to a point that couples outnumbered singles, crowding the vast halls to the point of polite apologies when you needed to pass someone to get somewhere. Even Chan had managed to get a date and you weren’t even sure he was seeing anyone. You were feeling left out—wondering when it was your turn, or how undesirable you were to not have gotten asked yet—until you were halted at the steps of the hall. An array of students stood by either of your sides in an almost assembly line. Scattered flower petals led your path along with seashells of every shape and size and you couldn’t help but smile especially as you met the eyes of the person behind all of it.

Seokmin was down on one knee, a large bouquet of roses in his arms, and a big poster held up by a few fellow students behind him asking to escort you to the dance. You held your hands to your face, squealing like a child hearing good news, “Yes! I’d love to go with you, Seokmin!”

You hugged him, cheers and sounds of joy following and you were happy beyond belief in the warmth of his body. Everyone was happy for you both, already making jokes for him to prepare for his royal status because this formal dance had the tradition that the couples made from this event often stood the test of time.

Meanwhile, you felt a pair of not-so-celebratory eyes tracing over every step you took, an unbearable heat running through your body. You weren’t sure what to think of it. Ignoring him was your best option, but that was better said than done.

The closer you got to the event, those same eyes would flicker to your presence more often than not, especially as you’re joined at the hip with your formal date across the halls. Vernon’s eyes, previously malicious but empty, now seeped a silent fury that wished he could have the gall to give in to the pressures he placed in his head. That gaze burned in you, embedded in your day-to-day, when you should’ve thought of one and only one person that willingly acted on being by your side.

The thought of Vernon’s eyes on you eventually began to fade into oblivion, replaced with images of slow dancing with Seokmin. You’d be adorned in gold jewelry, long silk gloves, and attire that best fitted your status, leaving onlookers wanting more. The night would be magical, parading more than royalty, living a somewhat beautiful evening of normalcy and fulfillment. And if so be it, end up resulting in a break of your lifelong dry spell of relationships.

“Well, would you look at that? Seokmin will love it.”

Chan offered you a brotherly smile as you showed off what you had chosen to wear back in your closet. The twirl of your body dropped the fabric in mesmerizing magic. You could feel a mixture of pride and power in such a beautifully crafted vessel. Its body was heavy but you couldn’t feel any more light wearing it like the world was finally going to give you what you needed, whatever that may be. It would come with time. At this moment, you felt exactly where you needed to be.

You grinned back at the young fairy. “Thanks, Chan.”

The day finally would arrive. You saw Seokmin out by the steps of your residence and finally saw the pristine appearance of him in his suit, smiling brighter than the setting sun. His gaze softened at you in appreciation, his smile somehow growing only wider, and he walked over to you and took you in his hand. “You look beautiful,” he whispered, sending chills down your back, while a thank you is caught in your throat.

You’re nervous the whole ride there, bouncing your knee in anticipation as Seokmin occasionally turned away from the road to smile. Your nerves dissipate the moment you enter the event. The dance hall was beautiful, streaming lights from the ceiling to floor satin blue cloths on tables, and gorgeous centerpieces that did the prestigious university more than justice. You have seen much grander decorations in your experience but in this space with your peers whom you respected many of, it felt like the most beautiful place on planet Earth.

“This is amazing.” You said your eyes aglow.

The coolness of the air tingled up your arm but faded as you noticed everyone else’s event attire. Grinning ear to ear, you appreciate the craftsmanship of everyone’s distinction from one another, all incorporating pieces personal to themselves. Hearing the soft laugh of your date tore you away from your watch and you locked on to the warm creases of his eyes. He excused himself, offering to get you drinks, and you nodded before seeing him off in the direction of refreshments. 

Your eyes returned to the floor plan before landing on the man you least expected to attend, prim and proper in a maroon-red suit perfectly tailored to him like a second skin. Vernon locked on you. The familiar look of hostility in his eyes along with something else unexplainable. It made the hairs of your neck stand and yet you couldn’t bear looking away.

You drew heat up your spine, breath stolen from your lips, and eyes quivered over his shape as you took in all of him. You knew all this time he was handsome, more than that, he looked eerily delectable, but you weren’t one to admit that. Not even yourself. Yet, something in the air, something mystical that drew you to him like a spell. A powerful, deeply conjured, mind-bending spell. 

“Dewberry punch. Surprisingly delicious.”

Your gaze broke at Seokmin’s appearance, smiling at him as if you hadn’t just thought about someone else in his presence. “I bet.”

You accepted your drink, while Vernon still trickled in your head like simmering rain, pattering on your rooftop and leaking to your subconscious.

It stayed that way throughout the night, making you wonder how you could change your sentiment about him with a simple suit. With all the wardrobe changes in the world, it shouldn’t have changed anything, but perhaps it wasn’t just the suit. The last vulnerable moment you shared was something that crawled from the back of your mind, softening your heart and aching for the man in your thoughts. You had sympathy as you would for anyone in a hard situation. Vernon was no different from that. It’d make sense if you’d think of him.

You did mental gymnastics during your slow dance, smiling back at Seokmin amicably as your hand pressed lightly against the middle of your back. He hummed to the beat of the music, his natural radiance momentarily distracting you. “I mean it when I said you look beautiful because, wow, you really do. Can hardly believe you said yes to me.”

Something swelled up in your heart, heating your cheeks as your smile grew an inch. You pulled closer to him confidently, content to hear he shared a similar sentiment. You let your eyes naturally flutter back at him, a familiar sense of breathlessness stopping at your lungs.

“I’m really glad you asked me,” you said in a soft gasp.

You felt his fingers lock tighter through yours and your foreheads kiss in a split second. His light layer of cologne infiltrates your nose and tickles your insides. You felt the warmth of his breath, the moment approaching, and you anticipated it. The moment his perfect pair would find yours, time would stop, like the storybook fairytale ending his mom and your dad had. 

Yet. You turned your head, burning in embarrassment from your last decision reflex. “I’m going to freshen up in the bathroom.”

“I’ll be waiting.” Seokmin smiled disappointedly, reluctantly letting you go.

You took your time, lightly splashing water on your face. You took in your deep breaths. You physically shuddered to yourself. Something in the air that told you not enough. It should’ve been it, it’s all that your head said, but for some reason, your heart disagreed. What is wrong with you?

You shut your eyes tight, taking in more breaths—only getting shallower—before exhaling. By the time your heart settled down, you exited the restroom, painting a courteous smile, inching closer and closer to Seokmin who now seems to be preoccupied with the company of his friends.

Their voices only got louder the closer your feet cut through the distance, words getting clearer until you're riddled with confusion, drinking in every mutter like hot gossip.

“They were easy,” Seokmin bragged uncharacteristically.

Easy.

“They’re really into you, huh? Looks like you’ll get to replenish your fortune after all.”

Seokmin’s smile was familiar, yet an inkling of something sinister peaks through the last second as he fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair. “Becoming a Royal is going to be so much easier than I thought. Luckily, the beast’s kid is so desperate for attention. Who knows, maybe they’ll prove themselves in bed how much they’re willing to do for it.”

Tears brimmed your eyes, and you blinked them away, furious for not seeing the truth sooner. Your blood boiled. You were about to approach him when someone was one step ahead of you. In a flash, Vernon was pinning Seokmin by the neck. Seokmin, fear in his eyes, choked through his threats, hands over Vernon’s in an attempt to pull him off. “What the hell? Get off me!”

“Take it back,” Vernon growled.

A sum of the initial shock dissipates in Seokmin’s eyes, a smile erupting on his face, one that suggests anything but civil reconciliation. “What…oh, about Y/n? Why? Pretty boy got their eyes set on them?”

Vernon slammed him back on the wall, gripping tighter. “You get anywhere near them, I’ll kill you.”

“Vernon stop!” You shouted. “You’ll actually kill him!”

In a lingering silence, Vernon persists on Seokmin’s neck, fuming, seeing the taunt in Seokmin’s eyes. “You heard them. Let me go. Don’t think for a second you’re worth an ounce of their attention.”

“Like you are?” Vernon said, gritting his teeth.

“Vernon, please!” You pleaded.

Vernon pulled off of Seokmin, shoving him to the ground, before storming away. A look from him to you as he exits.

You approached him, finally seeing how pathetic he looks.

“Y/n, can you believe that guy?” He stretched his hands out to you, “Help me out here, beautiful.”

Your footsteps are heavy approaching him. Arms crossed, your scowl presented itself. “I heard everything, you jerk. I have half a mind to let him finish the job.”

He blinked back in disbelief, feigning innocence, “Y/n how could you say that—this is all just a misunderstanding—“

“Shut up and never talk to me again or I’ll finish what he started.” You took off from the scene, leaving Seokmin on the ground.

Your feet took you out of the building and on a search. Vernon couldn’t have left far behind. Gathering the material of your clothes in your fists, you find him within minutes. “Vernon! Come back here!”

“Get lost, beastie. I don’t have the energy for you.”

You scrunched your face up in frustration but persisted, trailing him heatedly. “You are going to explain what the hell just happened. I don’t know how many glasses of champagne you had, but no matter the amount does not warrant the near bloodshed in that ballroom. Or are you that stupid?”

“Leave me the fuck alone or I’ll make sure there’s bloodshed.”

“You could’ve gotten in so much trouble. Your temper is actually insane how in the hell—“

One second, you're going at him for doing something so reckless due to his unbridled lack of control, next he’s seething at you as he’s pinned you to the rough surface of an oak tree in the middle of school grounds. His eyes lit like wildfire, burning your skin from the little distance between you both.

“I warned you. You should’ve listened.”

You gasped seeing those honey eyes, like molten gold, you were entranced by their naked beauty seeing how they started to slowly soften beneath your gaze. “You…defended me. You almost killed someone…for me…”

Despite his warnings, you held no fear, and at this moment you felt perplexed by how alluring a mere human could be. Your heart rattled like it demanded escape and you can hear his heart do the same. It helped to have super hearing. You swallowed, eyes falling to his lips before, watching them tremble before you crushed them to yours.

Stunned, you felt him succumb to the desire you sense you both had, feeling his hand crawl up to your frilled side. However, half a second too late, he’s shoving you aside, covering his lips in wide-eyed shock. You stood back with your own look of shock, internally asking yourself if that really all happened. Not even a chance to apologize, Vernon took several steps back. “Never do that again. I swear to god, or I’ll regret it.”

He disappeared through the dark fog the air cast, leaving you alone in your thoughts. One thing stayed with you in that experience though. He said ‘I’ll regret it’ not ‘you’ll regret it.’ What exactly would he regret about it?

When classes start back up again, the atmosphere is anything but what it used to be. Despite your background, you lived a vaguely calm day to day but nowadays you can’t walk the halls without being stared at. You knew why, but you weren’t going to let them get to you. You were going to give yourself that space.

You let Chan know your lunches would be by yourself for a while until the noise would die down, and although he was disappointed, he couldn’t have been too disappointed with him and his formal date that has recently gone official. You were happy to know he wouldn’t be alone in your time of self-care.

The rooftop was known to be empty at almost all times. You knew this from coming time to time, especially in your freshman year when in the midst of the blithering heat of summer. Frankly, it didn’t bother you as much and apparently still hadn’t as you walked up the flight of stairs leading up and out the doors of that very rooftop.

Clutching a lunch box too big for a normal human, you stared back into the eyes he was scarfing down his meal like he was starving and alone. Vernon’s eyes grew twice their size as a limp noodle hung from his mouth before slurping it back up from his sauce-stained lips. “What ar—why are you here?”

You gestured to food, butting back the bit of shock that he was actually here in front of you. “Lunch.”

“Yeah, why aren’t you eating in the cafeteria? Off-campus? Why here?” He badgered.

You scoffed. “You don’t own the rooftop, Vernon.”

“Well, I don’t like you here. leave.”

“I’m not doing that.”

“Are you really gonna be so difficult?”

“How am I being difficult? I’ll just sit here away from you eating my lunch, just… Ignore me.”

He scoffed. “Fine.”

“Fine.”

You occupied a space from the ground and made yourself at home, sitting criss-cross on the ground. Vernon stayed where he was found and continued his lunch. Neither of you talked the rest of the time there and when the moment it was time to go back to your individual classes. It would be done separately, but that would continue for weeks at a time, almost seeing each other every day around the same time for lunch. If you came to a point that neither of you minded the other's presence given that it was so normal to see each other in the same place.

Now you would quietly acknowledge each other while simultaneously trying to ignore each other’s presence, but within due time, the air between you two would leave a lingering charge, likely still thinking about what happened the night of the formal. The moment of weakness.

“I never thanked you.”

Vernon raised his brow, forking through his food.“Thanked me for what?”

“You may have almost killed Seokmin but you defended me.”

He rolled his eyes simultaneously letting out a sigh. “Don’t bring up that shit again.”

“But you did, and why… You hate me, don’t you?”

“Of course I do,” he answered, uncertainty in his tone, “Maybe I don’t know. He just pissed me off.”

You smiled to yourself, finishing up the last of the entree. “I was there to hear everything and even I didn’t know what I’d do, so, thank you.”

“Whatever.”

The silence made its return but you continue to see each other more and more. Word has gone down about the entire event and you had become old news, but you never changed your routine. These days you were starting to enjoy Vernon’s company and perhaps he was enjoying yours. He stopped complaining about your loud chewing and started accepting some of your food exchanges, but besides that, you remain civil. You hadn't talked about the kiss you shared, and perhaps it was best that way. At least that’s what you kept saying to yourself even though it’s all you’ve thought in his presence.

You were forcing yourself to get over it. You had finally come to a place you and Vernon could stand in the same place without killing one another, maybe you even grew a friend out of him. In any case, you were better off, not knowing what he meant when he kissed you back or what he meant by saying he’d regret it. It would be fine. Given your family’s history, it’s likely they would never be what you dreamt it would be.

Fingering threw your bags for your dorm keys. You are getting closer and closer to the steps to home. You clutch around the metal, lacing a digit through your key ring, and claiming your key before a hand comes around your wrist. You turn to see your perpetrator, manic, eyes stare back at you and a smile, that you once found warm and familiar, turned dark and sadistic.  His once honey voice that you dreamt of, and could soothe you to sleep now, spoke a terrifying timber, towering over you, seething back at your fearful stance.

“Y/n, talk to me please talk to me.”

You tugged from his grip. “Seokmin what are you doing here? Leave me the fuck alone.”

“How are you? I’ve missed you.” Honey laced his tongue, but known him it was like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, deceitful. 

“Seokmin let go of me.”

“No,” he shouted, “not until everything is right with us again.”

You shot your eyes back at him, “Are you fucking insane? Get away from me, you lunatic.”

His fingers wrapped tighter around you, bringing you close and personal to see the red in his eyes. “You were mine, Y/n who cares what happened that night. All I know is that I want you and I know you want me too.”

“Seokmin please, I’m begging you, you’re hurting me.”

In your desperate pleas, he doesn’t listen. You felt trapped, buried under the heavy weight of his words, how inhuman he looks,, and you feel terrified for your life. You tried wrenching out of his touch, screaming for an escape, wishing upon any unseen star in the afternoon sky that this moment would end. As if your prayers were answered a body comes in and slams Seokmin onto the ground. You see their feet kick back at him, fury in their eyes screaming back at the man.

“Get the fuck out of here before I promise to kill you and I don’t fucking break my promises.”

Seokmin is almost tempted to challenge him, but he ends up escaping, leaving you both behind.

Here Vernon was again, somehow saving you just as you have begun to accept your platonic nature, and you can’t help but look at him with eyes of want, desire, and need. You’ll never begin to understand the pull you had towards this impossibly destructive man but you were beginning to understand that there would never be an end between you two. In turn a new fear, now you would be worrying about days without him.

“Are you hurt?” He asked, washed over with concern.

“I’m not but,” you look over him, locked on him, even noticing the sweat falling from his brow, “You really have no self-control do you?”

He dropped his warm expression“Are you really telling that to me, someone that just saved you from potential assault?”

“You keep hurting me, you keep saving me, pick a side. What is it about me, Vernon? Why? Why are you here when I always least expect you to be?” You asked in almost frustration. 

“As if I know. you’re the beast’s kid. How can you be so fucking helpless that you need my saving?”

You don’t bother to answer, as if the answer were all in the eyes looking back at you. Gathering all your courage, your lips found their way back to his, the salt of your tears sweeping over his lips. You whimpered in ache, clutching the front of his shirt. You pulled him towards you and this time, he didn't let go.

You made your way back to your place, clothes thrown astray on the ground. You were skin to skin, lips to lips, body to body. It all felt so fast, so rash, but your mind couldn’t think of anything else. All there was the hot of the fire between your legs and Vernon, perfect gorgeous Vernon.

“Vernon…”

He exhaled a shallow breath before roughly tugging you to the arm of your couch, placing you against it like it’s your pedestal. His hand against the small of your back, steadied you as his lips made their way down to your chin, neck, and collar. His eager fingers found your stiff peaks in a matter of milliseconds before he prodded at them, rolling them between the pads of his fingers.

“You won’t regret it,” You asked, “having sex with me?”

“Will you?” he responded, teeth grazing your stiff sensitivity as it got harder against his tongue.

You shook your head. “No.”

“Good. Then neither will I.”

He fell to his knees the moment he found a place between your thighs. The heat of his lips ghosts over your inner thighs, tongue licking over the fabric of your inner garment, before closing it around his lips, sucking the arousal soaking through it. You clutched the leather of your seat, moisture forming in your mouth, “Oh god.” His tongue finds the divide of core, moaning sweetly as hr anxiously fed. Your legs settled on either of his shoulders, knee brushing tenderly over his cheek.

Finally, pushing the garment aside, he feasted on your raw heat, moving his tongue in ravenous speed, having you spew out sighs of contentment. You blistered in goosebumps, licking your lips, your whines became a soothing symphony, and Vernon’s tongue became the award-winning solo. Soon, they’d melt in bursts of ache, clenching the perimeters to his face.

“Your tongue, Vernon, shit…”

His hands stroked up your side, tongue flicking back at your clit, before his mouth sucks on the entrance, kissing it like he’s met his estranged lover. You couldn’t ignore his eyes, honey ebbing with lust, long lashes framing his view like he was a goddamn dream. You laced through his hair when you felt the presence of his fingers in you and you tugged, a sinful mumble leaves his lips.

“Harder.”

You thought you might’ve been hearing things, and you croaked out a, “What?”

“Please pull harder,” Vernon repeated in groans. “Mommy…”

You blinked back down at him in fascination. “Mommy?”

His eyes creased together in an impossibly endearing way, looking malleable and edible, his gentle hands caressed your thighs in worship, “Yes Mommy…please…”

“…Okay, I can do that.”

You did as he requested and his voice resonated as a reward. Your fingers dig deeper in his hair and found out how easily Vernon complies with a bit of encouragement. His fingers plugged your entrance, removing and reappearing, at a skilled pace. You enjoyed him, louder moans bouncing off the walls of your manor as your body shook against him, surely coming apart for in a matter of minutes how he was going. Bucking your hips you hissed as a sliver of your climax, “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum.”

“Please do it, Mommy, I want to taste you…”

You called out to him in pure anguish, his mouth pressed into you, catching every drip, completely defiling his mouth. Finished, you pulled him by the hair to meet his lips. You fisted through his hair, locking his body between your legs as your release is addictingly sweet on his tongue. “So you want me to be your…mommy?”

“Yes,” Vernon slowly answered with a hint of hesitancy, “does that bother you?”

“N-no, just not used to it, but I like it,” your draped your arms over his shoulders, “as long as you like it. You can call me whatever you want. I’ll be your mommy.”

You dragged him from his hair, ensuring he was willingly compliant, and had him land on the thick cushion of the couch. You sat next to his side, sucking on his tongue coated in your climax before you crept your hand at his briefs. Your hands slipped out his cock and wrapped its stiff stature with your fingers. Traveling his precum to his shaft, your digits trace over his veins through the slick. You placed pressure around his girth—his moans sweet but full of sin—and you smiled against his lips in interest.

“You like that?” You teased, “You like how mommy’s touching you?”

“Yes, Mommy.” He trembled.

“Should mommy help you cum?”

He nodded, chest noticeably heaving up and down. “I want whatever mommy wants.” 

Your gaze dipped at his cock, delectable and only growing bigger in his hands “I want you to cum on mommy’s fingers.”

He nodded again, now more gingerly, “Yes, Mommy, thank you, Mommy.”

You stroked with a gentle touch initially, working your way up his length, and allowed him to speak to find a pressure he preferred. You liked how he reacted to you, almost buzzing in arousal. He emitted subtle desperation, patient to your control, and only allowed himself to move as you asked. His hands stayed by his side, nails digging into the leather of the couch. Your free hand parted his messy hair, exposing his forehead, and you took the ball of your hand over his flushed cheek. You admired him close in stark contrast to the hand ruining him.

He mouth opened to pant, “So good…that’s so good…thank you…”

You bit your lip, an idea suddenly popping into your head. “Can I spit in your mouth, baby?”

As if he couldn’t get redder, he glows up like a bright neon sign, almost blaring that he was in fact open. “Yes, Mommy, spit in my mouth please.”

You tilted his head upward by his chin. Your thumb helped in parting his lips before a string of translucent liquid fell from your tongue to his picture perfectly. “Slurp it for me baby, take my spit.”

He collected the remains from your tongue, needy wet sounds loud for show, and he visibly swallowed for you to see. “Thank you…”

“No, thank you.”

Your lips found home against each other and your hand tugged around his cock tighter, faster. His whimpers are muffled between your lips, and his hips instinctively bounce, thrusting back into your touch. You didn’t need to pleasure yourself to get off, already high on his pretty little voice desperate for release. “Such a good boy for me. You gonna come for me?” 

“Yes Mommy, I’m gonna cum…just like that touch me just like that.” You followed the direction of his voice before you found the buckle of his hips, finally, it dispersed in the air and hit his chest. his lips.

“That good?” You hummed, and he nodded back, inching closer to you, inaudibly asking for more.

You did as he requested, drawing them only when you hear his gags and his salvia is the only thing that keeps you connected. Nothing could replace the look of listlessness mixed with pleasure on his face, it was pure bliss.

“Sit still for Mommy.”

You let your underwear fall to the ground and do the same to him before coming up and straddling his lap. Your lips are again one, crushing in harsh friction as you were rubbing his still hard cock between your bodies, not caring about the mess. Your slick moisture slathers up your bodies in the process while you’re grinding in his lap. Ribbons, thick of ivory releases, adorn his toned torso like celebratory streamers.

You collected it from your fingers and had a taste, dragging the nectar over your tastebuds. “So sweet…”

He eyed your fingers, blinking back in temptation as he licked his lips. There’s no need to ask as you gathered the remaining from his body and gently placed it in his mouth. He ate his cum with pride, sucking them off clear from your finger until your knuckles practically vanished from

“Should mommy help you cum so more?” You tempted, “That way you can cum in Mommy?”

A glint of excitement flashed before replacing it with concern. “B-but a condom?”

You shrugged, leaning in closer, “I trust you’ve been good, have you?” Have you been safe?

“Yes, Mommy.”

You tangled your fingers through his hair, soften with his sweat, “Then it's no problem.”

You slipped him inside you feeling him stretch your insides. Your lips pressed together, processing the sensation, which followed a loud satisfied moan.  “Such a good boy, so big for mommy.”

At the same time, Vernon groaned, hands settling on your hips, “Mommy’s so…perfect, so warm.”

You used him like a toy, lifting your body to bounce in his lap. You pulled at his lips with your teeth, tuned in to the whimpers he makes when let go. His cock moved in at in achingly slow rhythm, teasing him with your walls, seeing hope fade from his eyes every time you do. Holds your tighter, determined for more, but does not overstep his role. “Mommy…”

“Is my baby being needy?”

“Please let me cum—mmh, ah,” your fingers found his nipples, twisting them, “Please, Mommy.”

“Are you going to clean up the mess?”

“Yes Mommy, I always clean my messes.”

“Fine, I’ll let you cum,” your hand came around the sides of his neck before tightening, the startle look in his eyes melting in euphoria as you felt his adam's apple shift as he swallowed, “but we’re both going to cum. And you, are going to cum a huge load in me. Are you gonna do that for Mommy?”

He nodded, no sign of diminishing obedience. “Yes, mommy, everything.”

You put in more effort this round, pounding and grinding over his thighs, the sounds of your skin coming against each other having you reeling in every way.. His cock fucked back into you but if anything, it felt like you were the one fucking him. You pushed him harder against the couch, leaving his head over the end of the couch. “Gonna cum for mommy, hmm? Gonna pour your big load into me?”

“So good Mommy…more…let me cum please…I’ll pour it all into you.”

You took top speed, fucking until you couldn’t anymore, as your climax reappeared, bucking your hips against him. Vernon shit his eyes as he was close too, and in a second you felt a flood of warmth fill you to the brim, coating your insides in his hot, sweet nectar. His thrusts come apart in the air like his moans, in a staccato rhythm, he fits his cock deeply surrounded in your release before dropping his head back to catch his breath. You rested your head on his shoulder, smiling, and feeling soft caresses take up your back misted with sweat.

“That…um,” you chuckled nervously to yourself, the illusion of power dissipated.

“Thank you, Y/n.” His voice oozed something that kept you warm and gooey, resembling sincere gratitude and appreciation.

For the first time in what felt like forever, your cheeks are now finally the ones to heat up. You stared back at Vernon’s glassy gaze, a smile so foreign yet dreamlike, you almost forget it wasn’t one of the many images you imagined in your head. He was actually staring back at you with the same desire you had grown to have for him.

“I never got to apologize,” he added, lids heavy with fatigue, “kind of feels late for that, but I’m sorry.”

“Well it’s kind of late to say I forgive you, but I do.”

You didn’t need to say what it was for you to understand what the apology was about, neither of you did. You simply just kissed, kissed him as if you’d die without him. You’d kiss him until your lips would glue shut together from a natural glue. You’d kiss him if it’s the last day of the world. You’d just kiss him.

After some cleansing, you joined naked in the bed, just back in each other's presence. With your head on his arm and his other arm around you, you laid next to each other like newlyweds, grinning from ear to ear.

“I’m sorry, about your family I mean,” you couldn’t help but follow up.

He shook his head defiantly, “Don’t be, honestly, I was being…awful, jumping to conclusions. Funny enough, a lot like my dad.”

You sensed the bitterness in his voice, “But my family held power. I could’ve—we could’ve. There was so much we could’ve done to help your upbringing.”

“That is not your responsibility,” he replied pushing away a loose strand of hair from your face, “I’m finally accepting that right now she’s in a good place. I don’t have to worry about her. What’s done is done.”

“What about you?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you?” You asked dubiously, just wanting assurance. 

“For once…I am. Finally, I am.” He kissed your lips, holding on to your close embrace. “Her passing pushed me to do better for myself—even if it wasn’t for the best intentions—it got me through school, and gave me an in with the happily ever after program. Now I can have my happily ever after. Took me this long but you helped me realize it.”

You matched his smile. “I’m happy for you.” You petted the top of his head, hearing him chuckle.

“There’s a lot I need to make up for, even if we’re ‘even’.”

You hummed cheekily in agreement, “Certainly, we can find something.”

He playfully shrugged, gathering your hint. “Just tell me what it is, I’ll be there. Even if I have to get on my knees.”

[fdelopera]

Welcome to the 28th installment of 15 Weeks of Phantom, where I post all 68 sections of Le Fantôme de l’Opéra, as they were first printed in Le Gaulois newspaper 115 yeas ago.

In today’s installment, we have Part II of Chapter 11, “L’enveloppe magique” (“The Magic Envelope”).

This section was first printed on Thursday, 4 November, 1909.

Gaston Leroux cut “The Magic Envelope” from his novel when he prepared the First Edition for publication.

In January of 2014, I published my translation of this chapter. Mine was the first English translation of this chapter to be published.

You can read my translation of “The Magic Envelope” on my blog here.

The text of this section starts at “All the same, Moncharmin was still looking at Richard in a way that the latter did not like at all,” and goes to “'Not on your life!’ cried Gabriel.”

TRANSLATION:

All the same, Moncharmin was still looking at Richard in a way that the latter did not like at all. It was easy to see that Moncharmin was suspicious of Richard, or at least did not trust him. Richard was infuriated.

Moncharmin explained himself.

“My dear fellow, who was it that spoke inside the box, if it wasn’t you?”

Richard raised his fist in rage but stopped mid-gesture. At the moment when he was going to slam his fist down on the desktop, he heard three sharp little knocks coming from inside the desk; his hand remained suspended in the air. The two Managers looked at each other.

“Did you hear that?” asked Richard in an uncertain voice.

“Yes!” said Moncharmin, who had become slightly pale…

They heard it again… They thought about the three sharp little knocks of which Mother Giry had told them.

Indeed, this is what they had clearly heard… Distinctly heard … from inside the desk … for there was no one under the desk…

But there was something on top!… A large envelope on which someone had inscribed an address in red ink. And it seemed to them that the three sharp little knocks had been rapped out for the express purpose of drawing their attention to that envelope.

Richard, who, however much he claimed to the contrary, was not completely devoid of superstition, cautiously reached out a hand towards the envelope, as if he feared that his touch might suddenly set it on fire.

Finally, he picked it up without further incident. It felt light in his hands, which were quick to open it after he and Moncharmin — who was leaning over his shoulder — read the address:

“For MM. the Managers of the Opera.”

“My dear friends,” said the letter, “it was I who spoke inside the box. I was there. If you did not see me, it is because I am slightly mistrustful of the police, who are always quick to make mistakes; although I had made all the necessary arrangements, as you can now deduce, so that if you had entertained the notion of informing them, they would have arrested both of you first, on your own instructions: that, you will admit, would have been quite entertaining… Let this prospect, my dear friends, be a lesson that you always bear in mind in the unlikely case that you should consider involving an outside force in our business.

“Here is how you shall handle the 20,000 francs.

“You shall slip twenty notes of one thousand francs each into an envelope that you shall find here enclosed. You shall seal this envelope and deliver it to Mme Giry one half hour before the next performance; she will do what is necessary. Cordially yours. P. of the O.”

Inside the envelope they had just opened, they indeed found another envelope that was exactly the same, folded in half, which bore the inscription in red ink: “For Monsieur P. of the O. Private.”

*  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *  *

The next evening, one half hour before the curtain rose, an inspector came to see Mme Giry, who was already at her box attendant’s post, and requested that she report immediately to the office of M. Firmin Richard.

The good woman did not seem at all surprised by this message and momentarily left her duties, which consisted of awaiting the arrival of the first operagoers. She quickly went down to the season subscribers’ entrance, crossed the stage, and climbed the staircase. There she encountered her daughter, Meg, on a landing, who was in the midst of playing a prank on a fireman. Mme Giry gave her a slap on each cheek, and then went to knock on the Manager’s door.

“Enter!”

She did not seem to notice that the Managers were staring at her with an uncustomary urgency. She took an envelope, rather heavily laden, that they held out to her. She read the address, and since she was carrying the basket from which she rarely parted, she placed the envelope inside.

“No doubt you know what this means?” asked Moncharmin.

“Of course, Monsieur Manager! It’s not magic! It’s a letter for the Phantom.”

“And you are going to deliver it to him yourself?”

“So it seems. What would you have me do with it?”

“You are going to deliver it to him by hand?”

“Monsieur, I’ve never seen the Phantom’s hands, and I couldn’t tell you whether he has any…”

“But how do you do it?”

“I put it by his seat; it’s as simple as that!… And apparently, he comes to get the envelope. That has to be the way it happens…”

“Has it been long that you have served as his letter-box?”

“The first time that it happened was during the time of Debienne and Poligny, a few days before their departure… M. Poligny himself handed me a letter, but much thinner than this … and I did more or less what I am going to do with this one… Goodbye, Monsieur! With all due respect, I’m on my way… The patrons ought to be arriving, and everyone must earn a living, don’t you agree?”

Richard and Moncharmin did not stop her from leaving. They had not taken their eyes off of Mother Giry or her basket. No sooner had she closed the door than she was followed by Mercier, the Administrator. The box attendant’s every movement was carefully monitored. Her comportment was quite natural and she did not so much as touch her basket until she arrived at Box 5. There she calmly opened her basket and withdrew the precious letter. She left the basket on a stool and entered the box with the letter, which she placed on the shelf by the armrest.

Meanwhile, Mercier in turn took the liberty of opening the basket and found that it contained nothing more than a handkerchief of the finest lace monogrammed with the interwoven letters, “P.O.,”[4] a bunch of keys, a box of matches, twelve sous, and an old edition of the Petit Journal, folded to the section of the serialized novel: The Vampire’s Daughter.[5]

As for Moncharmin and Richard, they both armed themselves with opera glasses and stationed themselves in separate boxes in the upper tier so that they could not be seen, although the letter did not for an instant leave their dual patrolling gaze. In this way, they spent the duration of the performance, both the acts and the entr’actes.

They did not see anything occur inside the box, and yet still they watched the envelope on the little shelf by the armrest. They made arrangements so that after the performance was over, they would convene together with Mercier in Box 5, without interrupting their surveillance on the envelope for even a moment.

Then the two Managers, standing before Mercier, who understood nothing of the events that were transpiring, for he had followed his instructions without being briefed on the details of the affair, opened the envelope with a smile. They believed that the Phantom, who was surely possessed of a practical mind, must have sensed himself being watched and had not dared to touch the envelope. Indeed, they found the 20,000 francs still inside. And so, with a slightly smug air, they returned to their management.

But as they arrived in Richard’s office, they discovered that, sitting there on the desk, in the same location as before, was an identical envelope, which contained a “brief note” thusly worded:

“Candles and chandeliers![6] Brevity is the soul of wit; the Bank of Saint Farce[7] is not legal tender in my Empire. In the future, try to be a bit more serious, or I shall wax wroth once again. Candles and chandeliers!

“Your servant,

“P. of the O.”

It was no longer a matter of “friendly regards.” Needless to say, the Phantom was furious. But how had he known that in place of real banknotes, the Managers had slipped fake notes into the envelope, since it had remained unopened and had not been touched? And as for this latest threat — candles and chandeliers! — how had it arrived in Richard’s office, since after the last letter, Richard, recalling a bit late the recommendation given to them by the departing Managers, had installed safety locks on the doors of his office to which he alone had the keys?

I regret that I must here use an expression which is in no way recommended by the dictionary of the Academy, but no other word would be able to convey with detail and yet with restraint the state of mind of one of the Managers: Firmin Richard was fuming! No exclamations, no curses, no angry gestures. But in his breathless silence, he seemed to radiate fury.

And what infuriated him more than anything, even more perhaps than the absurd business of P. of the O., was Moncharmin’s eye, that eye which regarded him, Richard, with clear malicious irony.

For that ironic look could only come from two things: either Moncharmin imagined that P. of the O. was “making sport” of Richard in particular, or Moncharmin had begun once again to suspect his colleague! And this latter thought crowned Richard’s misery. Oh, to be the pawn, and yet to be thought the mastermind!

Suddenly, he cried: “Mercier! Go get me Gabriel!”

Gabriel, the chorus master, was Richard’s friend. He had Richard’s confidence, and frequently, when Richard was in trouble, he found excellent council in Gabriel. When Mercier had returned with Gabriel, Richard asked them both to sit down. Then, having ensured that no one could hear what would be spoken between the four men, having ordered Rémy, his secretary, who was keeping watch in the adjacent room, to prevent anyone from entering the office, he recounted from the beginning the details of that strange affair. Gabriel and Mercier listened in perfect silence.

When Richard had finished, Gabriel stood up and said: “You must put the 20,000 francs in the envelope, but the real 20,000.”

“That’s also my opinion,” agreed Mercier, and he added: “And we must inform the Commissary of Police!”

“Not on your life!” cried Gabriel.

NOTES:

[4] The letters monogrammed on this handkerchief are “F.O.” in the French, and it is the translator’s theory that this is short for Fantôme [de l’] Opéra. These initials have therefore been translated as “P.O.” for Phantom [of the] Opera. It is possible that the rest of the items in Mme Giry’s basket were meant to be Erik’s possessions, as well. For instance, the matches might be the implements that Erik used to write his various notes, since Leroux described that Erik’s handwriting looked like it was formed using the tips of matchsticks, presumably dipped into his signature red ink. It is also tempting to think of Erik reading a story about vampires, since there are certain aspects of his character, such as sleeping in a coffin bed, that appear to be drawn from vampire literature. It is certainly amusing that Leroux inserted this slightly self-referential element of a character reading a feuilleton within his own feuilleton. However, it remains unclear why these items were in Mme Giry’s basket. Like so many other details in Leroux’s novel, we have no definitive answers.

[5] A thorough search of Le Petit Journal, a Parisian daily newspaper similar to Le Gaulois, from 1863 to 1910 can find no feuilleton by the name of La Fille du Vampire. It is likely that this serialized novel was Leroux’s invention.

[6] This exclamatory phrase in French is “lustre et balustre,” which literally means “chandelier and baluster” (the baluster in this instance is the ornate stem of the chandelier into which the candle-bearing arms are inserted). This particular use of these words may be an expression of Leroux’s own devising, as it does not appear in contemporary books of French wordplay. That said, the words “lustre” and “balustre” frequently appear together in French grammar books as rhyming pairs, so there is likely a subtextual relationship between them. Instead of attempting an idiomatic translation, the translator has chosen a more literal translation, albeit one that captures some of the phrase’s rhyming quality, in order to retain the chandelier reference, since this gives the phrase its menace.

[7] The Bank of Saint Farce was pretend currency, similar to play money.

Click here to see the entire edition of Le Gaulois from 4 November, 1909. This link brings you to page 3 of the newspaper — Le Fantôme is at the bottom of the page in the feuilleton section. Click on the arrow buttons at the bottom of the screen to turn the pages of the newspaper, and click on the Zoom button at the bottom left to magnify the text.

[concook20]

The Virus (AU) 2

Same thing like I said before, only this time though, it's the villains turn! Hope you enjoy!

Part 1/Part 2

Pt 2: Villains

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️

Mention of body horror, death, blood, amputation, cannibalism, sexual assault, and suicidal thoughts

⚠️Trigger Warning⚠️

Zach Varmitech

Age: 24 years old

Mental Status: Stable, somewhat, but very exhausted and traumatized

Inventory: Robot parts (just in case), tool kit, axe, his own CPS he built, canteen, night vision goggles, and notepad and pen

What happened to Zach?: Like Aviva, he is also exhausted and helps her figure out what this is, but he's suffering PTSD from seeing many people becoming animals in a brutal way. He couldn't figure out what that does, but he knows that the person is still alive, meaning they're still suffering.

Zach wrote down his time with the team, how he is beginning to like Aviva and Chris, don't mind Koki and JZ, but is very scared of Martin, not knowing what he'll do next after some outbursts he does.

Donita Donata

Age: 25 years old

Mental Status: Stable, somewhat only very traumatized

Inventory: A picture of Dabio, machete, a pistol and ammo, med kit, fabric and sewing kit, and batteries

What happened to Donita?: She just wanted a zebra for its stripes... That's all she ever wanted with Dabio... But when she was taunting the brothers, they heard Dabio screaming in agony, as they ran to see him getting eaten alive. After that, not only Martin blames himself for not saving Chris better, but also, Donita hates herself and blames herself for Dabio's death.

She couldn't sleep right, eat anything, or even think right when she hears about someone mentioning Dabio or losing someone close to her, whereas she even looks at the bodies that look just like Dabio...

Gaston Gourmand

Age: 41 years old

Mental Status: Stable, somewhat, but can be unpredictable, somewhat

Inventory: Knives (Kitchen knife, hunting knife, butcher knife, etc), rifle and ammo, binoculars, canteen, snacks, med kit

What happened to Gourmand?: After this started, he had a near death experience, where an animal attacked him, which he survived from, only has a blind eye. He notices Martin's outburst and helps him out of doing something crazy, but he still has some outbursts, too.

He and JZ are the chefs, where they became somewhat acquainted, to the point he helps JZ use a gun in order to protect himself.

Paisley Paver

Age: 35 years old

Mental Status: Stable, but very exhausted

Inventory: Axe, med kit, flashlights (enough), medicine, pistol and ammo, hiking axe, and canteen

What happened to Paisley?: Like Aviva and Zach, she's exhausted, but she tries to be helpful. She is mostly worried about Rex though, after he lost a limb to protect her, which she's very grateful for, keeping a close eye on Rex to see if anything happened, even staying up at night, where she talks to Aviva mostly about this.

Rex Grayson

Age: 35 years old

Mental Status: Stable, but very traumatized

Inventory: Pistol and ammo, flashlights, machete, tool kit, medicine, bandages, and knife

What happened to Rex?: After he got his arm cut off, he thought he would be fine and such, however, he feels anxious, has many nightmares, and is still paranoid that the bite might still work, even if they cut it off. The only thing that gives him comfort is Paisley, after she tries to take care of him, which he's grateful for, but he knows she needs sleep

Chris was the one who cut off his arm, so he thanked him for that, even if it hurt as hell. He's very nervous to be left alone, so he stays close to anyone just in case, like Paisley and Chris, but he's still fine...

Though... Three of them will die...

That's all who survived! Hope this helps!

[twisting-echo]

Why I ship Gaston and Snow White?

Okay, before we get into this, I will state that I am aware of Snow White's canon age, so I have her aged up to 18 in my headcanon.

When I was imagining Gaston and Snow White in a romantic relationship, I found them to be quite an interesting couple, and I became attracted to their chemistry and emotional connection. Plus, my friend @rapunzelcrossoverqueen joked that Snow White took one look at Gaston and said, "I can fix him~" ✨

To which I totally agree because the “I can fix him” trope, also known as “I can change my beloved,” involves a character believing they can transform their romantic partner’s flaws or negative behaviors through the power of their love and support. This trope often appears in stories where one partner is seen as troubled, flawed, or even dangerous, and the other partner is convinced that they can help them become a better person. And I am here for it! I love the idea of Gaston changing for the better and becoming an absolute simp for this tiny, soft-spoken woman!

Snow White would have the patience and the will to put up with Gaston's behavior, which is very similar to how Belle put up with Beast's, but interestingly, Gaston might respond differently to Snow White compared to Belle. Given Snow White’s gentle and soft-spoken nature, Gaston might initially find her more agreeable and easier to impress with his bravado and charm.

He might enjoy the admiration and lack of resistance to his behavior, which contrasts with Belle’s independence and outspokenness. However, over time, Snow White’s gentle nature might slowly influence Gaston, encouraging him to soften his rough edges and reconsider his actions. This could create a unique redemption arc where Gaston learns to appreciate qualities like kindness and humility. Snow White’s kindness and patience might also highlight Gaston’s flaws more starkly, potentially leading to moments of self-reflection or conflict.

Snow White is no pushover, and she has experience putting up with "vain people." If she can soften the "grumpiest" of the dwarves, then she can surely soften the pure paragon~

As you can see below, I'm a sucker for height differences, so in my headcanon, Gaston is 6'3" and Snow White is 5'1". 

Anyway, here are a few things that I wrote about how Snow White and Gaston could complement each other.

1. Strength and Gentleness: Gaston is known for his physical strength and bravado, while Snow White embodies gentleness and kindness. Gaston's protective nature could make Snow White feel safe, while her gentle demeanor might soften Gaston's rough edges.

2. Confidence and Humility: Gaston's confidence and assertiveness could help Snow White become more assertive and stand up for herself. Conversely, Snow White's humility and grace could teach Gaston the value of modesty and compassion.

3. Adventure and Nurturing: Gaston's love for adventure and hunting could introduce Snow White to new experiences and excitement. Meanwhile, Snow White's nurturing and caring nature could provide Gaston with a sense of home and belonging that he might not have experienced before.

4. Complementary Skills: Gaston's practical skills in hunting and survival could be useful in protecting and providing for Snow White. On the other hand, Snow White's domestic skills and ability to create a warm, loving environment could balance Gaston's more rugged lifestyle.

5. Growth and Redemption: Snow White's pure heart and forgiving nature could inspire Gaston to become a better person, seeking redemption for his past actions. Gaston's determination and drive could help Snow White achieve her dreams and protect her from harm.

While they might seem like an unconventional pairing, their differences could create a dynamic and balanced relationship where both can grow and learn from each other. 

Emotional Dynamics

Gaston’s Charisma and Snow White’s Charm: Gaston’s larger-than-life personality and charisma could be balanced by Snow White’s gentle charm and kindness. Together, they could create a dynamic where Gaston’s boldness is softened by Snow White’s warmth, making them a captivating couple.

Snow White’s Empathy and Gaston’s Passion: Snow White’s empathetic nature could help her understand and soothe Gaston’s fiery passion. Her ability to see the good in people might help Gaston channel his energy into more positive pursuits.

Social Interactions

Gaston’s Leadership and Snow White’s Diplomacy: Gaston’s natural leadership skills could be complemented by Snow White’s diplomatic approach. While Gaston takes charge in challenging situations, Snow White could mediate and ensure harmony within their social circle.

Balancing Public and Private Life: Gaston enjoys being the center of attention, while Snow White is more comfortable in intimate, nurturing settings. This balance could help them maintain a healthy social life while also cherishing private moments together.

Personal Growth

Gaston’s Ambition and Snow White’s Contentment: Gaston’s ambitious nature could inspire Snow White to pursue her own dreams and aspirations. Meanwhile, Snow White’s contentment with simple joys could teach Gaston to appreciate the smaller, meaningful moments in life.

Learning from Each Other: Snow White’s patience and understanding could help Gaston become more introspective and considerate. In turn, Gaston’s determination and courage could encourage Snow White to be more adventurous and confident.

Practical Aspects

Complementary Skills in Daily Life: Gaston’s physical prowess and survival skills could be invaluable in protecting and providing for Snow White. On the other hand, Snow White’s domestic skills and ability to create a loving home environment could offer Gaston a sense of stability and comfort.

Shared Responsibilities: They could share responsibilities in a way that plays to their strengths. Gaston could handle outdoor tasks and challenges, while Snow White could manage the home and ensure a nurturing atmosphere.

Mutual Respect and Growth

Respecting Differences: Their relationship could thrive on mutual respect for each other’s differences. Gaston could learn to value Snow White’s gentle strength, while Snow White could appreciate Gaston’s boldness and protectiveness.

Encouraging Positive Change: Snow White’s influence could encourage Gaston to become more compassionate and self-aware. Gaston’s support could help Snow White become more assertive and confident in her decisions.

Disney Mirrorverse:

Oh, yeah, it's time to talk about Disney Mirrorverse Gaston and Snow White because I'm freaking obsessed with Disney Mirrorverse, and it's the reason why I started shipping them in the first place.

In the Disney Mirrorverse, Gaston and Snow White have unique characteristics and abilities that could add interesting dynamics to their relationship:

Disney Mirrorverse Gaston

Disney Mirrorverse Gaston is reimagined as a Merciless Beast Hunter. This version of Gaston retains his vanity and bravado, but his skills and physical prowess are significantly enhanced. I've collected some notes on key aspects of his character~

Role and Abilities: Gaston is a Ranged character, known for his expert marksmanship and tracking abilities. His attacks become more vicious as his target's health decreases, making him a formidable opponent from a distance.

Personality: True to his original character, Gaston is vain and loves nothing more than admiring his own reflection. However, in the Mirrorverse, his second love is beast-hunting, and he is relentless in his pursuit of grand trophies.

Appearance and Equipment: Gaston wields a wicked crossbow fashioned from bones collected from his hunts. His broad shoulders and single-minded determination make him a fearsome presence in the savage and dangerous wilderness of the Mirrorverse.

This version of Gaston adds a darker, more intense twist to the character we know from Beauty and the Beast.

Disney Mirrorverse Snow White

Disney Mirrorverse Snow White is reimagined as a Stalwart Friend of the Forest. Here are some key aspects of her character that I've collected:

Role and Abilities: Snow White is a Melee Guardian with Leader and Royalty traits. She wields the Thornhammer, a powerful pickaxe made of metal and living wood, which can break through even the thickest armor. Her abilities allow her to call on the forest and its inhabitants for aid, making her a versatile and resilient fighter.

Personality: Snow White remains curious and resourceful, embodying resilience and inspiring optimism. She is dedicated to protecting the forest and its creatures, using her enhanced abilities to root out evil.

Appearance and Equipment: Snow White is protected by living rosewood armor inlaid with mined gems. The thorns and brambles of the forest wrap around her, ensuring that any attack against her comes at a price. Her connection to the forest allows her to adapt to any battle, making her immune to poisons and able to snare enemies in spiderwebs.

This version of Snow White adds a powerful and protective twist to the classic character, making her a formidable force in the Mirrorverse.

Complementary Dynamics

Strength and Strategy: Gaston’s long-range marksmanship and Snow White’s close-range melee prowess create a formidable team. Gaston can handle enemies from a distance with his expert crossbow skills, while Snow White engages in close combat, using her Thornhammer to root enemies and provide buffs through her connection to the forest.

Leadership and Support: Snow White’s leadership qualities guide Gaston’s raw power in a more focused and effective manner. Her resilience and optimism can help channel Gaston’s relentless pursuit into strategic victories. Meanwhile, Gaston’s protective nature ensures Snow White remains safe as she executes her strategies, calling on the forest for aid.

Balancing Aggression and Compassion: Gaston’s aggressive combat style is balanced by Snow White’s compassionate approach to protecting the forest and its creatures. This dynamic allows them to learn from each other, appreciating different methods of achieving their goals. Gaston’s ferocity complements Snow White’s nurturing tactics, creating a balanced and effective partnership.

Potential Storyline

In a Mirrorverse storyline, Gaston and Snow White might find themselves working together to protect their realm from a common threat. Gaston’s initial advances might be met with resistance from Snow White, who is focused on their mission. However, as they spend more time together, Gaston could start to admire Snow White’s strength and determination, while Snow White might see the potential for good in Gaston beyond his bravado.

Their journey could involve Gaston learning to temper his aggression with Snow White’s guidance, while Snow White becomes more assertive and confident with Gaston’s support. This partnership could lead to mutual growth and a deeper understanding of each other’s strengths and weaknesses.

Ties to Nature:

Yes, both Disney Mirrorverse Gaston and Snow White have strong ties to nature and forests, but in different ways:

Gaston and The Wilds

Master Hunter: Gaston is depicted as a master hunter who prowls the savage and dangerous forests of the Mirrorverse. His skills as a tracker and marksman are unparalleled, and he thrives in the wilderness, hunting beasts to prove his prowess.

Savage Wilderness: The Mirrorverse version of Gaston is deeply connected to the wild, using his enhanced senses and physical strength to navigate and dominate the forest environment.

Snow White and The Forest

Friend of the Forest: Snow White is portrayed as a stalwart protector of the forest. She has a deep connection with the forest and its creatures, using her abilities to call on them for aid in battle.

Forest Magic: Snow White’s powers are amplified by the forest’s magic, allowing her to summon thorns, snare enemies, and adapt to various battle conditions. Her armor and weapon, the Thornhammer, are also tied to the forest, made from living wood and enchanted with nature’s magic.

Complementary Nature Ties

Gaston’s Dominance and Snow White’s Harmony: Gaston’s relationship with the forest is one of dominance and control, as he hunts and tracks his prey. In contrast, Snow White’s connection is harmonious and nurturing, as she protects and collaborates with the forest and its inhabitants.

Balancing Forces: Together, their differing approaches to nature could create a balanced dynamic. Gaston’s strength and survival skills could complement Snow White’s nurturing and protective abilities, making them a formidable team in the Mirrorverse.

Their shared ties to nature and the forest environment could lead to interesting interactions and a deeper understanding of each other’s strengths and perspectives. This also led me to call their Disney Mirrorverse ship name, Nurturing Wilderness~

Closing argument/Final Notes:

If anyone remembers my Hades x Snow White posts saying that their relationship dynamic is like Fluttershy x Discord (Fluttercord), well, going off of King Sombra's personality from The Beginning of the End - Part 1 and Part 2, where King Sombra is depicted as being pompous, self-centered, and arrogant (like Gaston), I base Gaston and Snow White's relationship on Sombra x Fluttershy (Sombrashy). I also based them on Katrina Van Tassel and Brom Bones from The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad. What can I say? I love sweet and shy characters with big meanies.

PS:

I also wrote a fic for them in case anyone is interested 😳👉👈

🚫IF YOU DO NOT LIKE THIS SHIP, PLEASE DON'T COMMENT OR REBLOG 🚫🚫 PLEASE DON'T STEAL OR REPOST MY EDITS 🚫