#and the vast unknowns of the future

[mc-critical]

1.01 / 2.17 (41)

[stonesandswords]

.

[ayeforscotland]

If you have ever used 23andMe, they have now filed for bankruptcy and will be asset stripped. Delete your account information as soon as possible.

[faebled-stories]

Behind The Wall

Kinkvember Day 8: Glory Hole

Le Sserafim Huh Yunjin

6.5k words

Yunjin sank into the deep, velvet embrace of her couch, the cushions softening her exhausted frame as she let out a long, weary sigh. The echoes of the day's cacophony—cheering fans, thumping music, and sharp camera clicks—still pulsed faintly in her ears.

The life of an idol was dazzling but relentless; every hour meticulously scheduled, every move choreographed to perfection. The glitter of stage lights, interviews under glaring lamps, and the constant churn of photo shoots were exhilarating but exacted a toll. It was as if her very soul teetered on a tightrope, balancing the shimmering allure of fame against the shadow of burnout.

Through the vast floor-to-ceiling window, the city’s neon lights painted strokes of pink, blue, and gold across her apartment walls. Seoul’s night buzzed with energy; cars zipped by, people chattered and laughed, their figures flitting like restless fireflies. The symphony of life outside mocked her solitude, reminding her of the world that saw her only as an untouchable idol, never as Yunjin, the young woman who craved the freedom to simply be.

A heavy sigh escaped her as she swept her gaze over the cluttered coffee table, its surface strewn with fan mail written in colorful inks, glossy pamphlets of upcoming events, and stacks of formal letters from the agency. Her slender fingers traced absent patterns over the scattered papers, seeking something familiar in the chaos. But then, her touch stopped on an envelope that was different. It was plain, with none of the bright markings or logos she’d expected—no sender's name, no return address, just an unassuming square of paper.

The whisper of the paper crinkling as she opened it seemed magnified in the stillness. The note inside was concise, starkly so, and as her eyes scanned the words, a shiver danced along her spine:

"Looking to escape the ordinary? We offer complete anonymity. No names, no faces—just pure freedom. For those seeking a way out, come explore a world where nothing else matters."

A URL was printed below in small, unembellished text, as though any flourish might disrupt the message’s secrecy. Yunjin flipped the paper over, searching for more—an explanation, a clue to its sender—but found nothing. The edges of the note bit into her palm as her mind wrestled with intrigue and apprehension.

Her heart thudded as she glanced around her penthouse, its luxury and perfection suddenly feeling like a gilded cage. The idea of complete anonymity was as tantalizing as it was foreign. A place where her name, face, and reputation held no sway, where the burden of fame could be shed like a second skin—was such a thing even possible?

The glow of her phone lit her face as she typed the URL. The screen flickered to life, revealing a minimalist site with no distractions, no images, just a few lines of cryptic text. It spoke of an exclusive venue, a secret haven where identities dissolved, and people interacted without pasts or future judgments. A chill coursed down her arms as she read it again, each word stoking the embers of a rebellious thought that crackled within her.

She pressed her lips together, the decision forming like storm clouds in her mind. Her usual caution warred with a desperate hunger for escape. For once, she wouldn’t run it by her manager or think about potential repercussions. She would be just Yunjin, unknown and unseen.

Shaking fingers rummaged through her closet, pushing past glamorous gowns and performance outfits until she found a pair of dark jeans and a plain black hoodie. She slipped them on, the soft fabric foreign in its ordinariness. Her reflection in the mirror was almost startling—gone were the shimmering eyeshadow, sculpted features, and immaculate hair. Instead, a girl with wide, determined eyes looked back. She pulled her hair into a loose ponytail and donned a baseball cap, tucking wayward strands beneath it. Oversized sunglasses completed the disguise, shadowing her face despite the evening hour.

A small crossbody bag held her essentials, including the mysterious envelope and her phone, which she silenced before sliding it in. The muffled tick of the clock punctuated her hesitation, but the thrum in her chest urged her forward. The night was cool when she stepped out, the city’s breath washing over her as if daring her to blend into the current of people and lights.

Flagging down a cab felt like a small act of rebellion, its ordinary nature grounding her as the car hummed to life and pulled away from the curb. The rhythmic roll of the tires lulled her into contemplation. Streetlights cast fleeting halos on her window, the cityscape warping and softening in the glass’s reflection. She watched as neon signs, bustling restaurants, and late-night strollers gave way to quieter streets lined with shuttered shops and shadowed alleyways.

When the cab stopped in front of an unremarkable building, her pulse quickened. It stood under a flickering street lamp, modest and nondescript, its façade promising nothing yet holding everything she yearned for.

Yunjin paid the driver and stepped onto the cracked pavement, the city's hum receding to a low murmur. A sudden breeze lifted the edge of her hood as she pulled it lower, shielding herself from the scant light. The air tasted electric, anticipation sharp on her tongue.

This was it—a chance to disappear, to step into the unknown. The final glance over her shoulder was reflexive, a look at the life she was about to abandon, if only for a fleeting moment. With a deep breath, Yunjin pushed open the heavy door and let the shadows swallow her whole, a small smile curving her lips as the echo of her world fell away.

At the front desk, a woman with a soft, welcoming smile looked up, her glasses perched delicately on the tip of her nose, glinting under the warm glow of the overhead light. She exuded an air of quiet confidence, her poised demeanor a result of years of greeting visitors who approached with curiosity, nerves, or both.

“Good evening,” she said, her voice calm, warm, and practiced, like the embrace of a familiar song. The subtle scent of jasmine lingered in the air, a comforting contrast to the thundering beat of Yunjin’s heart. Sensing her demeanor the lady continued “First time?”

Yunjin gulped, the lump in her throat making her voice feel small and fragile. “Yes,” she replied, her tone soft and almost wavering, as if any louder would betray the torrent of emotions coursing through her.

The woman’s eyes, sharp yet kind, softened with a knowing glimmer as she slid a clipboard toward Yunjin across the polished, dark wood of the counter. The faint slide of paper against wood felt louder than it was, reverberating in Yunjin’s heightened state. “No worries, it’s all straightforward here. Just sign this waiver, and let me explain the options.” The receptionist’s tone was even, her words crafted to soothe. The clipboard itself seemed ordinary but held a gravity Yunjin wasn’t prepared for—a silent gateway between the ordinary and the unknown.

Yunjin's eyes dropped to the clipboard, the neatly printed text blurring slightly as her thoughts raced. The room felt warm, her breath shallow as she fought to calm herself. The woman’s voice interrupted her reverie, a steady anchor to the moment. “You can choose to give pleasure or receive it—whichever you’re more comfortable with.”

Yunjin’s pulse quickened, the choice startling in its simplicity yet weighted with implications. The muffled hum of distant music reached her ears, blending with the low thrum of blood rushing through her veins. She hadn’t anticipated the tension, the sudden clarity required for this decision.

“Um…” The hesitation hung between them, a breath caught in time. Yunjin’s gaze flickered from the clipboard to the woman’s reassuring eyes, and before she could rethink it, the words fell from her lips. “I’ll… give first.”

A smile curved the receptionist’s lips, gentle and knowing. She collected the clipboard once Yunjin had signed her name, fingers brushing lightly over the polished wood. “Great,” she said with a finality that both steadied and excited Yunjin. “Once you’re ready, head to the back, and follow the instructions inside. Take your time.” The words resonated like a promise, rich with unspoken possibilities.

Yunjin's feet felt both light and weighted as she moved through the hallway, each step echoing softly against the wooden floorboards. The corridor was lined with antique sconces that cast warm, flickering light, their glow reminiscent of gas lamps from another era. The scent of aged wood and varnish wrapped around her, steeped in a history of whispered secrets and uncharted desires.

The booth she entered was compact, almost intimate, its wooden frame dark with age and rich with a subtle scent of cedar. Faint scratches marred the surface, stories untold but felt through the marks of time. Yunjin adjusted herself on the worn seat, the old wood creaking beneath her slight movements. The small space was a capsule of warmth and nervous energy, making the moment feel both surreal and thrilling.

A deep breath filled her lungs as she closed her eyes, trying to slow the pounding of her heart. The booth's walls seemed to close in protectively, muting the world outside and intensifying her awareness of herself. The anticipation coiled within her, electric and alive, as she opened herself up to whatever came next, ready to step across the invisible threshold and into the unknown.

Suddenly, a slight movement near her face broke her concentration. Her gaze shifted and there it was—a small, round hole in the partition between booths, a portal to the unknown. Through it, the tip of a penis slowly emerged, its presence both startling and enticing. The anonymity of the situation only added to the allure, as Yunjin found herself face to face with the mystery of a man she could neither see nor touch, save for this intimate connection.

The member that presented itself through the partition was of a decent size, neither intimidating nor meek. It commanded Yunjin's attention, a silent invitation to a dance of lust and longing. With a deep breath, she reminded herself to take her time, to explore and savor the experience. She was an artist, and this was her canvas.

As she leaned in, the warmth of her lips met the head of the cock with a gentle, yet commanding touch. Her technique was impeccable, a result of years of honing her craft. A low groan from the other side of the partition confirmed her skill, and a surge of empowerment washed over her. She was in control, a maestro conducting an orchestra of desire.

With each slide of her mouth, her tongue traced the sensitive underside of his member, eliciting a symphony of responses from the stranger. His breathing grew heavier, punctuating the air with anticipation. The twitching of his member within her mouth was a silent testament to her mastery, a sign that she was navigating the dance of desire with expert precision.

Yunjin's own moans began to mingle with the stranger's labored breaths, a chorus that filled the small, private space. She couldn't deny the pleasure she found in this unconventional tryst. There was a unique thrill in the anonymity, a liberation in the act of pleasuring someone whose face she would never know. It was a connection that transcended the physical, rooted in the raw and real exchange of passion.

The pace of her actions increased, her head bobbing with growing urgency, the wet sounds of her endeavors a testament to the fervor of the moment. She could sense the stranger's tension mounting, his breathing becoming shallow and ragged as he approached the precipice of release.

As the tension escalated, Yunjin sensed the subtle changes in the man's breathing—a mix of shallow, quick breaths escalating into a desperate, primal rhythm. The air grew thick with anticipation, and her heart pounded in sync with his. The cock in her mouth, already swollen with arousal, seemed to pulse with an electric charge, signaling the inevitable. His body tensed, muscles rigid as his climax built to an unstoppable crescendo. With just a whisper of warning, the stranger's control slipped away. A guttural, low growl vibrated through his chest, primal and raw, echoing in the confined space around them. Then, the release. It came like a warm, forceful flood, his hot, salty essence filling Yunjin's mouth with a sudden rush. She felt the throbbing intensify, each pulse delivering more of his essence, hot and thick against her tongue. Yunjin, caught in the wave of his ecstasy, swallowed eagerly, the flavors mixing in her mouth—salty, slightly bitter, yet uniquely intimate. She closed her eyes, focusing on the sensation, her own arousal amplifying as she savored the taste, the heat, the sheer intimacy of the act. As he reached his peak, she could feel the tension in his body slowly ebbing away, the throbbing now a slower, gentler rhythm. The cock in her mouth began to soften, no longer the rigid rod of before, but yielding, becoming more pliable. Yunjin held him there, her lips and tongue still caressing, prolonging the connection. The afterglow of his climax lingered on her taste buds as she gently released him with a soft wet pop, her lips tracing a soft path along the now relaxed shaft, leaving a trail of warmth. The moment, intense and fleeting, left them both in a haze of satisfaction, their breaths mingling in the quiet aftermath.

A murmured thanks floated through the hole, a small acknowledgment of the intense connection they had shared, however fleeting. Yunjin took a moment to catch her breath, her heart still racing from the adrenaline of the encounter.

Despite the fleeting nature of their interaction, Yunjin felt a profound bond with the faceless man on the other side of the wall. It was a bond forged by mutual pleasure and vulnerability, a memory that would linger long after the carnival lights had dimmed.

Just as she began to compose herself, another surprise awaited her. From a different opening in the partition, a second shaft appeared—this one significantly larger and more imposing. Yunjin's breath hitched in her throat as she eyed the newcomer with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. The first encounter had been a warm-up, but this? This was a challenge.

She hesitated, pondering if she could accommodate such a size, but the thrill of the challenge won out. With a cautious but determined glance, she edged closer to the second hole. Yunjin was ready to take the ride.

As she steeled herself, Yunjin's gaze was locked on the formidable appendage that stood before her. It was a symbol of virility and power, and she was determined to conquer it. With a deep breath, she leaned forward, her heart pounding like a drumline in her chest. The moment of contact was electric; her soft lips met the massive head of the cock, and a surge of warmth and intensity coursed through her. She closed her eyes, surrendering to the sensation as she focused all her strength and concentration on the task ahead.

The journey had begun, and Yunjin was committed to seeing it through. She slid her lips down the lengthy shaft, each inch a testament to her determination. The cock throbbed and pulsed in her mouth, a living embodiment of the challenge she had accepted. It was a tight fit, pushing the limits of her oral cavity, and she could feel her throat constricting as she valiantly attempted to accommodate more of the imposing member.

Gagging and sputtering were inevitable, but Yunjin's will was made of sterner stuff. She refused to yield, pushing herself further, taking in more and more until she felt the cock hit the back of her throat. The sensation was overwhelming, but she welcomed it, pausing only to adjust before resuming her rhythmic motion. Her head bobbed back and forth, the cock sliding in and out of her mouth with practiced ease, a dance of passion and perseverance.

The thrill of the challenge was intoxicating. Yunjin's pulse raced with excitement as she deepthroats the massive cock, each thrust a declaration of her own capabilities. She was acutely aware of the wet patch growing on her panties, a visible sign of her arousal, as she moaned softly, the sound muffled by the object of her conquest. She was lost in the moment, her world narrowed to the feeling of being completely filled, completely consumed by the task at hand.

Her determination was not in vain. The man's body tensed, his breaths became labored gasps, and Yunjin knew she had driven him to the brink. The moment of truth arrived as his dick twitched and pulsed in her mouth, releasing a torrent of cum. She swallowed quickly, striving to keep up with the force of his ejaculation, but the sheer volume was overwhelming. Cum splashed against the back of her throat, overflowed, and covered her chin, dripping down her chest in a testament to her efforts.

Yunjin, a woman of remarkable poise and sensuality, found herself in a scenario that would have left many reeling. She had just concluded an intense session with two well-endowed partners, each man bringing his own brand of fervor and demanding her full attention and physicality. The encounter had been a marathon of pleasure and exertion, pushing Yunjin to the brink of her sexual prowess. Yet, as the second man withdrew, spent and satisfied, Yunjin was faced with an unanticipated third act.

Through the other hole stood another man, his desire evident and his anticipation palpable. His penis, while not as imposing as the ones that had preceded it, still presented a challenge. Yunjin, ever the consummate lover, was not one to back down from a challenge. She understood that satisfaction comes in many sizes and that her journey was far from over.

With a deep breath to center herself, Yunjin leaned in, her eyes locked onto his member as she took the whole cock easily into her mouth. The warmth of his flesh against her lips was a familiar sensation, yet it brought with it a new set of expectations. She was determined to lavish upon this man the same meticulous attention that she had given to the others, to bring him to the heights of pleasure despite the lingering sensation of fullness that still resonated within her from her previous encounters.

As she worked her magic, the man's response was immediate and visceral. He quickly reached his climax, and Yunjin braced herself for what was to come. To her astonishment, his orgasm was voluminous, exceeding even the generous offerings of the two men before him, combined. The warm, thick salty liquid hit the back of her throat with a force that caused her gag reflex to activate, the excess spilling out of her mouth and trickling down her chin.

The sensation was overwhelming, and Yunjin made a swift decision. She couldn’t take any more inside of her; she had reached her limit. Instead, she guided the man to finish all over her face. With her eyes closed and her head tilted back, she surrendered to the sensory overload. The cum splattered in waves across her face, marking her porcelain skin and staining her crimson hair with ropes of his essence. It dripped down her neck, leaving trails that soaked into her LE SSERAFIM top, a badge of honor from her latest conquest..

The absurdity of the situation was not lost on Yunjin. Here she was, a woman who had always prided herself on her control and composure, covered in the evidence of her sexual escapades. Yet, far from feeling debased, she felt empowered. The sensation was strange, yet not unpleasant, and in the midst of the chaos, she found a moment of quiet appreciation for the extremes to which her body and mind could be pushed.

As the man caught his breath and pulled away, Yunjin opened her eyes. A smile played across her lips, a silent acknowledgment of the journey she had just completed. She had not only endured but had triumphed, satisfying yet another partner with grace and determination. The experience had been intense, physically challenging, and emotionally exhausting, but it had also been exhilarating.

Yunjin stood, her body glistening with the remnants of her encounters, and made her way to the mirror. She gazed at her reflection, at the cum-covered visage that stared back at her, and she felt a surge of pride. She had pushed herself beyond her limits, and had proven to herself that she was capable of anything. In that moment, Yunjin embraced her strength, her resilience, and the sheer power of her sexuality.

She took a moment to catch her breath. She felt a weight lifted off her shoulders, and a sense of calm washed over her. But she was not ready to stop just yet. Quickly using the provided wipes, she cleaned herself slightly before she gathered up her remaining energy and boldly decided to continue.

Yunjin's heart danced to the staccato rhythm of her racing pulse as she navigated the dimly lit corridors of the building, her every step echoing the potent cocktail of excitement and trepidation coursing through her veins. She arrived at her destination, a secluded alcove whispered about in the hushed tones of the initiated, where the boundaries of the self are willingly blurred.

With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Yunjin began the ritual of undressing, each piece of clothing falling away to reveal the canvas of her unadorned skin. The cool air of the room kissed her bare flesh, sending a shiver down her spine, a tangible reminder of her exposed state. It was in this moment of nakedness, both literal and metaphorical, that Yunjin felt truly alive, her senses heightened to the symphony of whispers, rustling fabric, and the faint scent of desire that permeated the air.

Carefully, she positioned herself, ensuring comfort and security, but also the deliberate display of her most intimate self. The hole before her served as a portal to a world of anonymous connections, her bare pussy an offering to the unknown. As she closed her eyes, Yunjin surrendered to the vulnerability of her situation, a willing participant in the dance of the flesh.

The sounds from the adjacent room grew in intensity, a cacophony of deep moans and heavy breathing that spoke of the primal acts unfolding mere inches away. It was not long before the first of her anonymous suitors approached, his fingers tracing the contours of her exposed lower body with a reverence that belied the raw encounter to come.

He wastes no time in claiming what he sought, gripping Yunjin's hips with an urgency that communicated his need. She felt the heat of his body, the insistent press of his cock against her, seeking entry into the slick warmth of her tight cunt. As he entered her, Yunjin braced herself against the intrusion, the sensation of being filled overwhelming her senses.

The man's thrusts were fast and deep, driven by the intoxicating tightness that enveloped him. Yunjin's moans melded with the symphony of sounds that filled the room, her body responding to the relentless rhythm. Having spent the earlier part of the night pleasuring a succession of faceless men, now it was her turn to bask in the waves of pleasure that threatened to engulf her.

Yunjin's body trembled uncontrollably as wave after wave of intense pleasure coursed through her veins. She could feel every inch of the man behind the wall. His thrusts were relentless, almost brutal in their intensity, but she couldn't deny the way her body responded to his touch.

She could hear the man's grunts and groans growing louder with each thrust, his hips slamming into her with a primal urgency that made her heart race. It was clear that he was chasing his own high, focused solely on the intense sensations coursing through his body.

Yunjin tried to match his rhythm, meeting each thrust with one of her own, but she was quickly overwhelmed by the intensity of the pleasure coursing through her. She could feel her orgasm building deep within her, the tension coiling in her belly as she gasped for breath.

Yunjin, in that moment, was just another warm, wet body used solely for pleasure. An extension of the overwhelming stimulation that threatened to swallow her whole. The scent of sex was thick in the air of the crowded room, mixing with the heady aroma of cologne and the musk of aroused bodies.

All around them, others writhed and cried out in ecstasy. Moans and screams filled the air, punctuated by the wet slap of flesh on flesh. It was a debauched scene straight out of Yunjin's wildest fantasies. And yet, even as her body climbed higher and higher towards the peak, her mind felt strangely detached. It was as if she was watching the whole thing unfold from outside herself.

The man's thrusts grew more erratic, his rhythm faltering as he neared his own end. Yunjin could feel the tension coiling tighter and tighter in her core, her nails digging into the supple leather beneath her as she teetered on the very edge of oblivion.

With a final, powerful thrust, Yunjin's body tensed as she felt her world shatter into a thousand pieces. Her orgasm ripped through her like a tidal wave, a rush of intense pleasure coursing through her veins and leaving her breathless. She threw her head back and cried out, the sound echoing through the room as she reveled in the indescribable sensation.

The man, still buried deep inside of her, let out a low groan as he felt her climax. He could feel her muscles contracting around him, pulling him deeper as she rode out the waves of pleasure. With a few more thrusts, he followed suit, his cock pulsing as he emptied himself into her. The warmth of his seed filled her to the brim, a delicious sensation that only served to prolong her own orgasm.

"Ohhh yes!" Yunjin cried out, her voice filled with pure ecstasy. The intensity of the moment was etched into her memory, a moment of pure bliss that she would never forget. 

As the first man finished his climax, he pulled out, leaving Yunjin's hungry hole exposed and glistening with a mixture of sweat and the evidence of his pleasure. But there was no time for respite in this den of hedonism. No sooner had he withdrawn than another figure loomed, his member rigid and ready. Without hesitation, he plunged into her cum-slicked opening, claiming her for his own.

He started pumping with an urgency that matched the rhythm of her own racing heart. The wet sounds of their union resonated throughout the room, a testament to the slick, fervent fucking that was underway. Yunjin's body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet his every thrust, her fingers clawing at the edges of the bench that supported her.

"Yes, yes, yes!" she panted, her voice a symphony of lust and longing. She was a vision of abandon, her body undulating with each powerful drive of his cock. Her eyes were closed, her head thrown back in ecstasy, as she rode the wave of another impending climax.

The man showed no signs of slowing down, his own desires stoking the fire within Yunjin's core. She could feel the essence of her previous partner being churned inside her, the concoction adding to the intensity of the experience. "Mmmm it's so messy!" Yunjin gasped, the sensation of fluids squelching with each thrust only heightening her arousal.

He used the slickness to his advantage, fucking her with wild abandon, his hips a blur as he hammered in and out of her willing body. The room was filled with the sounds of their coupling—the slap of skin, the wet suction of her sex, and the growing crescendo of Yunjin's moans.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, I'm gonna cum!" Yunjin wailed, her voice cracking with the intensity of her impending orgasm. Her pussy clenched around him, the sensitive walls of her sex gripping him tightly as she reached the precipice of pleasure. Her whole body shook, racked by the force of her climax, a climax that seemed to tear through her like a storm surge, leaving her spent and trembling in its wake.

As her orgasm subsided, the man continued to thrust, drawing out every last shiver of pleasure from Yunjin's satiated form. Finally, with a guttural growl, he too found his release, adding to the cum-slicked mess that Yunjin had become.

Exhausted but thoroughly sated, Yunjin collapsed onto the bench, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She was a writhing, moaning mess, her body marked by the intensity of her encounters. Yet, even as she lay there, the knowledge that this was but a moment in her endless pursuit of pleasure brought a knowing smile to her lips.

In the dimly lit confines of an intimate chamber, Yunjin found herself amidst a symphony of desire, a realm where pleasure was the only currency. After a series of passionate trysts, she braced herself for the final act of her evening, a performance that promised to be as memorable as it was intense.

As her body, still quivering from the reverberations of her last climax, began to settle, Yunjin sensed the approach of another. She was acutely aware that this would be her final partner for the night, and there was something decidedly different about him. The anticipation of his touch rekindled the warmth and pulsating sensitivity of her pussy, remnants of her recent orgasmic journey.

The man's presence was commanding yet tender as he teased her entrance, his warmth radiating against her sensitive flesh. She recognized him by his formidable size—the same man she had pleasured orally earlier. His endowment, both exciting and intimidating, had left a lasting impression, and the recognition only stoked the fires of her arousal.

As he began to enter her, Yunjin braced herself for the sensation of being filled beyond what she had ever known. His size was not just impressive; it bordered on the edge of her comfort zone, yet she found herself craving more. With each deliberate inch that slid inside, her body stretched to accommodate his girth, yielding to his impressive member with a mix of trepidation and eagerness.

The intensity of fullness was almost too much to bear, but it was swiftly replaced by waves of pleasure that accompanied each of his thrusts. Her body was being pushed to its limits, but in the most exhilarating way imaginable. She could feel every ridge, every vein of his shaft, creating a friction that sent shivers of delight coursing through her.

Instinct took over, and Yunjin began to match his rhythm, eager to feel him reach the deepest parts of her. The man responded in kind, increasing the force of his thrusts, making her gasp with each powerful drive. The room echoed with the raw, primal sound of their bodies uniting, a testament to the pleasure they were creating together.

Yunjin's heart raced, each beat a drumbeat echoing in her ears as she scaled the heights of her pleasure. Her legs trembled with the exertion, her muscles coiling tighter with each passing second. The air around them seemed to crackle with electricity, a palpable tension that begged for release.

"I'm so close," she gasped, her voice barely more than a whisper, laced with the raw edge of desperation.

He responded with a powerful surge, his body moving with an intensity that matched her own fervor. Their rhythm was frenzied, a dance of two souls seeking unity in the most primal way.

"Please," she begged, her pride forgotten in the face of the overwhelming need that consumed her.

His answer was a focused, deliberate motion, a targeted strike against her inner walls that made stars explode behind her closed eyelids. Yunjin's world shattered as she reached the pinnacle of her climax. Her voice broke the stillness, a cry of pure, unadulterated bliss that filled the room.

"FUCK… you’re so big!" she exclaimed, her body arching into his, every nerve ending alight with pleasure.

Her inner muscles pulsed around him, a rhythmic clenching that milked his own release. He threw his head back, a look of pure ecstasy on his face as he let out a deep, resonant groan. Yunjin felt the heat of his climax as he spilled into her, the sensation drawing out her own pleasure until she was utterly spent.

For a moment, they existed in a perfect state of satiation, their bodies still intimately connected. Yunjin's breaths slowly evened out, her heartbeat gradually returning to normal. She lay there, boneless and content, a soft smile playing on her lips as the aftershocks of their union rippled through her.

As the intensity of the moment subsided, Yunjin savored the feeling of completeness. The warmth of his release spread through her, a sensation that was both comforting and deeply satisfying. Her body, now spent and limp, was a testament to the pleasure he had wrought.

In the afterglow of their erotic encounter, she lay back on the leather that clung to her skin, her body a canvas of pleasure and fatigue. Her breaths came in slow, deep waves, each one a testament to the intensity of the experience they had just shared. She was in a state of blissful exhaustion, every muscle in her body seemingly liquefied in the wake of her climax.

The mystery stud, still poised behind the wall, looked at her quivering folds, his gaze held a mixture of pride and satisfaction. Then, with a mischievous glint in his eye he leaned in for one final, electrifying farewell.

His hand came down on her sex with a sure, resounding slap that echoed through the room, its sharpness jolting her senses. The stinging sensation arched her back, drawing a surprised moan from her lips as the sound lingered—a provocative reminder of their raw, unrestrained passion.

Before she could fully process the shock, his mouth descended with a searing kiss to her throbbing clit, warm and intent. The heat enveloped her, sending a fresh wave of pleasure rippling through her. His tongue moved deftly, coaxing her sensitive flesh to life with skilled flicks and gentle pulls, each movement reigniting her body’s desire.

A gasp escaped her as she shivered, goosebumps rising over her skin. Still sensitive from her previous release, she felt her body surge with renewed intensity. Her every nerve responded to him, the initial sting of his touch melting into the tender warmth of his kiss, the sensations mingling in a dizzying contrast that left her breathless. She was caught in the duality of it—the lingering sting meeting the sweetness of his lips—a perfect balance between the need to retreat from the intensity and the desire to lose herself in it entirely.

With a final, lingering kiss, he pulled back, leaving her body trembling and her chest rising with deep, satiated breaths. Covered in a light sheen of sweat, she had long since lost count of her climaxes, each one more powerful than the last. As she lay there, immersed in the warmth of their connection, she knew that this night would remain etched in her memory—a moment where passion, intensity, and an unspoken bond came together in something that transcended the physical.

She rose slowly from the plush cushions her legs trembling slightly from the exertions of the evening. Standing in the dimly lit room that had been her sanctuary, she caught her reflection in the nearby mirror. Her gaze drifted over her own form—a canvas marked by the unmistakable signs of release. Her skin was damp, glistening with the mingled residue of sweat and pleasure, each trace a testament to the intensity of the night.

She felt wonderfully full, her body carrying the subtle reminders of her encounters, tokens of the night that would stay with her as she stepped back into the world.

Yunjin moved to the bathroom, her steps careful, almost reverent. Warm water streamed over her, washing away the physical remnants of her indulgence, swirling down the drain in a quiet cleanse. Yet even as the evidence vanished, she knew that the essence of the night would remain—a secret, a sense of renewal that she would carry back into her public persona.

Dressed once again in her street clothes—a chic outfit that belied the wildness of her evening—Yunjin gathered her belongings: a sleek purse, comfy sneakers, and a renewed sense of self. She paused at the mirror, captivated by her own reflection. The woman staring back was radiant, her eyes alight with a new fire, a private victory that fame alone could never quite evoke. It was a glow that belonged to her alone.

At the front desk, Yunjin was met with the same quiet discretion as when she’d first arrived. The hostess, ever the silent guardian of this hidden world, handed her a sleek business card—a subtle invitation to return. Yunjin responded with a slight smile, a silent promise to herself that she would indeed revisit this sanctuary of indulgence.

Just as she turned to leave, a familiar voice rang out behind her.

“Hi, Ms. Jeon. Welcome back!”

Yunjin froze, her heart skipping as she spun around to see none other than her friend, Jeon Somi, standing just a few feet away. Somi’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and she cocked her head, taking in Yunjin’s slightly disheveled appearance. Blood rushed to Yunjin’s cheeks, embarrassment rising fast—of all people, she hadn’t expected to see Somi here.

“S-Somi?” she stammered, caught off guard. “What… what are you doing here?”

Somi chuckled, enjoying Yunjin’s flustered reaction. She took a step closer, her gaze warm but curious. “I didn’t know you knew about this place.”

Yunjin shifted uncomfortably, glancing away. “Yeah, well…” She trailed off, unable to find the words, but Somi simply grinned and leaned in slightly, her expression softening.

Without a word, Somi’s eyes glinted with mischief as she inhaled, catching the faint scent lingering on Yunjin’s clothes—a subtle hint of musk and release. She pulled back, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

“I’m here for the same reason as you, I presume?” Somi teased, raising an eyebrow.

Yunjin’s face grew hotter, mortified that Somi could sense exactly what she’d been up to. She bit her lip, laughing nervously. “I… guess so,” she mumbled, managing a sheepish grin. “Didn’t think I’d… run into anyone I know here.”

Somi chuckled warmly, patting Yunjin’s shoulder with a playful smile. “Hey, we all need a place like this sometimes, right? No judgment.” She glanced back toward the hallways, her voice softening. “Anyway, I had a long day. I’ll see you around.”

Before Yunjin could respond, Somi turned and headed toward the dimly lit corridors, her footsteps fading into the quiet shadows of the hidden world they both shared. Yunjin watched her friend disappear, feeling a strange mix of relief, embarrassment, and an unexpected sense of camaraderie.

Left standing by the entrance, Yunjin took a steadying breath, her heartbeat gradually slowing. Tomorrow, she would return to her carefully crafted public life. But tonight, she carried the thrill of her private indulgence—and the quiet comfort of knowing she wasn’t alone in seeking a place to shed her public self, if only for a moment.

[gloomwitchwrites]

Dog with No Teeth // Chapter Four

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Female Reader

Chapter Specific Warnings: post-apocalyptic au, swearing, dubcon elements, touching, kissing, dirty talk, sexual content, jealousy, possessive behavior, manipulation, mild degradation, oral sex (female receiving)

Word Count: 4.5k

You make yourself an offering. You and Ghost give into your base urges. Soap comes knocking.

Chapter Three // Chapter Five

ao3 // main masterlist // dog with no teeth masterlist

Warmth at your back. Solidness against your thigh. A comforting halo of safety.

Home.

Where there is a hammock on the porch. Where the garden calls your name. Where you sit amongst your archive, losing yourself in the endless books.

Inhaling through your nostrils, you exhale through your mouth, yawning slightly as you stretch your leg muscles, the tension melting away, feeding into the moment of peace.

You’re floating. Content.

There are no marauders. No gunshots. No skull-faced lieutenant dressed in black.

A dream is all it is—a distant nightmare that has passed into memory. It will no longer plague you like an itch. Freedom is in your hands. Vast. Open. A field of endless flowers.

Beside you, something moves, and all that peace is yanked from behind your eyelids.

One eye opens, searching. As you turn your head, a sliver of sunlight cuts through your vision. With an annoyed groan, you retreat from the light. You sniff, and the place smells wrong. It doesn’t smell of home.

“You’re moving too much,” grumbles a male voice.

British. Gruff. Familiar.

We’re taking her with us.

You don’t belong to me.

Your eyes snap open. The wall is an off-white with a hint of yellow, not the florals you’re used to. Above you, the ceiling is the same. This is not your bedroom. This is not your space.

Not a dream, then. Which means—

Ben.

The blood and bullets return, creeping in until it consumes, forcing you back to a moment you long to forget. Unable to contain the pain, you release a little whimper, sounding like a kicked dog.

A large hand gently grasps your upper arm. It’s warm—a little rough. “What’s wrong, love?”

Lieutenant Riley. Ghost. Captor.

A wave rises—laced with grief. Last night, Ghost insisted he could not take you home. That he would not take you back. Home has been ripped from you. By him.

The hand upon your upper arm squeezes in reassurance, urging you to turn toward him. Part of you resists. Refuses. But the pull of comfort is a siren’s song, and there is a man here willing to give it.

You roll onto your back, only for Ghost to push up onto his elbow, leaning over you. The middle of his brow is creased with concern, his whiskey-brown gaze roaming over your face before checking the parts of you above the sheets.

“Are you hurt?”

The tenderness in which Ghost asks surprises you. His grip shifts, cradling your cheek, thumb gently brushing back-and-forth across your skin.

Ghost’s head tilts, gaze roaming over you with an assessing look. “I was rough with you.”

You swallow, saliva sticking in your throat. “You were,” you agree.

His fingers curl slightly, catching on the small hairs on the back of your neck. It’s just a light tug—a redirection, but you surrender to him, allowing Ghost to draw you in.

“Are you in pain?” Ghost’s thumb brushes over your bottom lip.

You shake your head. “Not the physical kind.”

The corners of Ghost’s mouth slightly turn downward. “I can’t take you home.”

“I know,” you reply, voice cracking. Your eyes burn, tears threatening to claw themselves up to the surface. “You said that.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and it sounds like he means it.

The future is uncertain, laced with the unknown probability that you will likely never return to the life you knew. But this new world shaped you—made you understand that you don’t always have a choice.

Whatever happens—whatever life you’re about to be handed—you will survive.

You always do.

“I want to believe you. But I don’t trust you.”

Ghost leans in further, the tip of his nose nearly brushing yours. “You shouldn’t.”

Piercing. Sharp. A hollow point on impact. The pain runs deep through your veins, seizing your blood.

This man is no savior—no sanctuary. But he is all you have now.

What will you do after processing, when you’re reintegrated into society? Will they dump you onto the street? Force you to fend for yourself?

Your answer is cradling your cheek, asking if you’re all right.

Survival. Always survival.

“What do you need?” asks Ghost, a husky bite in his voice.

The pain will swallow you up if you allow it, shredding your resolve until you waste away from despair. Dust. Smaller than dust. A scattering of atoms. A small drop in a large ocean. Yet a life raft floats in front of you, asking you what you need, inviting you to grab hold.

Placing your hand flat against Ghost’s chest, you splay your fingers wide, gently caressing. Ghost groans low in his throat—the sound nearly a growl.

“I want to forget for a bit,” you whisper. “To not be afraid.”

Ghost shifts closer, his grip tightening to a possessive hold. “Do I frighten you?”

“Yes,” you gasp as Ghost’s lips linger just shy of your own, teasing the promise of a kiss.

“Do you know what you’re asking for? With me?”

No.

“I don’t care,” you reply, sounding more desperate than you mean to be.

This is a power play, a way to draw him in, to want you enough that you’ll be protected once you make it to the safe zone. Nothing about Lieutenant Riley’s behavior says that he’ll force himself on you, but his actions haven’t entirely been pure. He might be a bad man, but he isn’t the worst of them.

“Won’t lie,” he growls. “You’re a bloody tempting thing.” Ghost’s thumb drops to your throat, pressing lightly against the pulse point.

You press yourself into him, showing interest. A low groan escapes him, his pupils dilating with arousal. Showing a bit of vulnerability with Ghost might result in nothing. Give him your body for the morning, allow him to rut and fuck to his contentment, only to toss you aside once you arrive at the safe zone. It’s a real possibility. A true fear.

Yet there is hesitation speaking in your ear—whispering.

He comforted you during the executions.

He placed Ben somewhere Zac and the others will find him.

No one tried to take advantage of you with him around.

Small acts of kindness. Moments of gentleness. Each is a confusing justification for how you’re feeling. Ghost is not to be trusted, but you might be able to rely on him in this unknown world.

But you also remember his boot on your back, the way he shoved you against the armored truck, how he joined you in the shower uninvited. They negate the good, and you’re left with a neutral reservation of how to approach this man to your advantage.

So you fall into what you know.

“Then take the offer,” you sigh, offering your mouth.

Ghost lingers in the moment, his gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips. Thumb sliding up your neck, Ghost presses it to your bottom lip, dragging it down to admire your teeth. Releasing, it pops back into place.

“And what are you offering, hm?” he muses, snuggling closer to you.

The boxer briefs he wears hide nothing, outlining every inch of what he has to offer. There is no mistaking his interest.

“Me,” you answer, all breathy and soft. “You can have me.”

“And I make you forget for a bit?”

You nod, and Ghost shakes his head. “Do you really want this?”

The answer is unclear like swamp water. Ghost isn’t shoving you down into the bed. He’s not forcing your legs open to slot himself between. But he isn’t pushing away or denying you. Either would be preferable. At least you’d know where you stand.

This back and forth is worse.

“Don’t you want to kiss me?” you entice, tilting your chin.

“Yes,” he replies automatically. “Badly.”

Badly is a growl, bordering on desperation.

Oh, fuck.

Ghost’s grip on the back of your neck tightens—almost hurts. You attempt to move and find that you cannot. “You called me a selfish bastard last night. Now you want to have it off with me?”

“Is that so hard to believe?” you counter.

Ghost smirks. “No.”

“You’re familiar with a woman hate-fucking you?”

His smirk becomes a knowing grin. “A good hate-fuck is my specialty, love.”

You roll your eyes, the palm against his chest no longer a caress but a barrier. Pushing at him, you attempt to scoot closer to the wall—to create some distance.

“No,” he says, the singular word full of authority. Ghost surges forward, rolling you beneath him, trapping you against the bed.

“Get off me,” you snarl.

“Thought you wanted to forget?” he chides. Ghost’s knee slots between your legs, forcing them open a bit.

The only thing between your bodies is the shirt you wear. Nothing else. Can Ghost sense your arousal even though you deny it yourself?

“I do,” you answer. Ghost arches a single eyebrow. “I did,” you correct.

“I don’t believe you,” he teases, brushing the tip of his nose against yours, lips dangerously close to falling upon you.

Like a flint strike, a spark snaps into existence. Ghost’s hand delves downward, fingers featherlight as they skim over your bare thigh, only to curl under your knee. He urges your left leg out and then up against his waist. Through his boxer briefs, Ghost’s erection settles where your pelvis and hip meet.

“What would I find if I touched you?” asks Ghost, his hand sliding higher. “Would you be wet for me?”

“No,” you lie.

Ghost clucks his tongue like he knows the truth. His hand moves higher. Higher. Higher. With a roughness that makes you moan, Ghost squeezes your upper thigh, fingers digging into your skin.

“Should we find out, love?”

That large hand of his shifts to your inner thigh, creeping closer to your exposed sex. There is no underwear to create a barrier, and the shirt you wear is bunched around your stomach. As his thumb brushes over your labia, your hips involuntarily rock into his touch. Ghost’s response is an answering groan, his eyelids fluttering slightly as he nuzzles the side of your face.

“Are you wet for me?” he asks, voice a whiskey-bite of a caress.

Breath heavy, chest heaving, you open your leg wider, giving Ghost complete access. It’s just a touch, brief and tentative.

“You are wet for me,” he sighs, thumb pressing to the entrance of your pussy.

You can no longer deny—no longer pretend that his closeness isn’t affecting you. You hate this man. You want to push him away, to claw out his fucking eyes, to scream and curse him with all your energy. But he smells nice, his touch gentle, and the intimacy in which he holds himself over you speaks to a desire within him that seems to go beyond the bonds of simple arousal.

It makes no sense. It’s absurd. Infuriating. Confusing.

You are breaking. Fracturing. Is this even survival anymore? Are you simply giving in?

Just a small twist of his wrist and Ghost’s thumb ascends to gently circle your clit. You gasp with pleasure, head falling back to expose your neck. Ghost dives in, running his tongue along your throat.

Fuck. Oh, fuck.

“A hate-fuck doesn’t have to be rough,” croons Ghost. “Can take you just like this.” His thumb plays with you, circling and circling until the soft tingle of pleasure becomes a building, pulsing thing that vibrates under your skin. “Make you beg for me,” he breathes.

With his other hand, Ghost grasps your throat, forcing you to look at him. He holds you close, lips just shy of touching.

“I’ll fuck you slow. And you can tell me how much you fucking hate my guts as I rearrange yours.” Ghost presses his thumb directly against your clit, making you shiver. “What do you say, love?”

“I think you talk too much,” you murmur, purposefully goading Ghost to action.

“Then let’s put our mouths to better use.”

He moves first, closing the distance, pressing his lips to yours. Acceptance is all you can do—all you can offer. You’ve started this game, insisted on this, and now there is nothing but to follow through. You need Ghost to want you, to keep wanting you.

Grasping the back of his neck, you meet him with equal need. While you need him on your side, you also need to let go, to release some of this tension and pretend that your life hasn’t been upended.

His hand between your legs gently strokes, slowly building you towards your release. You gasp against Ghost’s mouth, and he chuckles, going in for one more kiss before descending, peppering your neck with affection.

Your hand roams over his muscled back. There is no consistent smoothness to his skin. Scars are present. Some clean and thin and solid. Others jagged. Rigged. And you briefly wonder where he obtained them all.

Ghost’s tongue tastes the hollow of your throat. “This needs to fucking go,” he growls, tugging at your shirt.

He ceases playing with you, both of his hands grasping your shirt, pushing it up your body. A sudden wave of apprehension rises. The shirt is a barrier, an illusion of safety. And there it goes, right over your head, tossed to the floor.

Ghost’s grasps the sides of your ribcage, planting a kiss between your breasts. “Fucking beautiful,” he murmurs, turning his head to tease the underside of your left breast with his tongue.

“Lieutenant,” you mewl when he sucks a nipple into his mouth.

You fist his hair, tugging Ghost up your body. He makes a pleased sound as he rises to meet you, seizing your mouth with a kiss that steals your breath. His strength is a powerful thing, yet the way he kisses you—touches you is almost reserved in its intensity. There is no intent to harm, to make you fear him.

Ghost breaks the kiss, easing his weight onto one arm. He reaches between your bodies for his boxer briefs, shoving them down and over his thighs, kicking them away. There is nothing between your bodies, not even the sheets.

Sitting up, Ghost settles between your legs on his knees. Every inch of Lieutenant Riley is on full display. Solid, thick muscles. Criss-crossing scars. Tattoos on his fingers and an entire sleeve down his left arm. Whiskey-brown eyes with pale eyelashes that pierce right through you.

This is a wraith. A Sentinel of Hell. Dangerous. Fierce.

And you’re beneath him, panting with the anticipation of bringing your bodies together.

“Tell me you hate me,” he commands, voice gruff and laced with lust.

“I hate you,” you murmur as Ghost reaches out and caresses your inner thigh.

His hand roams upward, smoothing over your stomach. “Again.”

“I fucking hate you,” you say a bit louder.

Ghost fists his cock and pinches one of your nipples between thumb and index finger. “Again,” he growls. “With more venom.”

“I hate you,” you moan. “You’re a selfish fucking bastard. And I hate you.”

Another pass of his hand, fingers tracing lines down your body, sending little sparks of pleasure through you. It’s blissful agony, and though you do hate Lieutenant Riley and the situation he’s put you in, his touch is welcome.

Your legs fall wider.

“Bloody hell,” breathes Ghost as he slides his hand up and down his cock.

In other situations, like this, when you were simply trying to feed yourself or put a roof over your head, the men would already be on top of you, grunting like feral animals for a few thrusts before finishing. There was never any pleasure in it. Never any desire. They would quickly fall asleep, leaving you hollow like an abandoned burrow.

Predators. Every. One. They all leered—sneered at you like you were filth, as if the only place you belonged was beneath them.

Lieutenant Riley doesn’t gaze at you like that. There is appreciation in the way he takes you in. A longing. A…yearning that makes you question all his motives for taking you in the first place. Under his attention, you feel wanted. Desired.

Another stroke, and a bead of precum blooms. You lock onto it, gaze focusing in as more emerges from his slit. As if sensing your thoughts, Ghost wipes it up with his thumb. Reaching out, he presses his thumb flat against your skin between your breast, drawing a line of cum downward.

“Open your mouth,” he commands.

You comply, and that thumb slides past your lips and over your tongue. A slightly salty flavor flowers. Now you know his taste.

Ghost drags his thumb over your tongue, then your bottom lip, and to your chin. “Grab your thighs. Draw your legs up. Keep yourself open for me.”

Refusing his authority and pushing back is natural at this point, but in this, you submit. And you’re glad to.

Ghost lowers himself, lips finding yours. It’s not a tease of a kiss, but an embrace, surrounding you with lustful need. You’re going to enjoy this. Deep within you, you understand this, and you want to explore this primal intensity.

Another kiss. Lower. Down your neck. Over your breasts. Across your stomach. Descending. Further. Further still.

His tongue teases, and a little cry escapes you.

“LT!” You nearly come off the bed as someone pounds on the door. “You awake, Ghost?”

“Shit,” mutters Ghost, his warm breath brushing against your inner thigh.

Releasing your thighs, you sit up slightly, staring at the door. There’s a stranger here, wanting entrance. The lusty haze over your eyes evaporates, your head clearing like a rainstorm surrendering to the sun. You went too far. Ghost has his head between your thighs and you were holding your legs open for him, enjoying every second of his tongue.

“Fuck,” you whisper as a spike of panic rises.

You start to draw inward. Even your legs are retreating, pulling away from Ghost.

“No,” he growls, large arms hooking under your thighs. He drags you back. “We’re not done.”

The stranger pounds on the door again. “Ghost!”

“Piss off!” he shouts over the top of your thigh.

Whoever is on the other side of the door laughs. “Captain sent me.”

With a deep sigh, Ghost rests his forehead against your stomach. “Stay here,” he murmurs. He lifts his head, lips glossy, and there is so much hunger in his gaze that it momentarily spears you. “I’m not done with you.”

Jesus Christ.

Ghost pushes off from the bed, and you remain the stagnant deer, frozen to the spot. The pounding comes again, the door rattling loudly in its frame. He strides forward, steps purposeful and pounding.

Disengaging the lock, Ghost yanks open the door. Bright sunlight pours in. “What the bloody hell is it, Soap?”

Soap. You know that name. He sat beside Lieutenant Riley in the Humvee.

Without the plain black balaclava on, you have a clear view of Soap’s face. His eyes are a lovely blue, his dark brown hair is styled into a short mohawk, the sides shaved but not bald. In his arms is a stack of neatly folded clothes.

Soap’s eyebrows rise toward his hairline. He whistles, taking in all of Ghost’s nakedness. “Damn, Lt. What a greeting.” He shrugs, smiling like an idiot. “Feel a bit overdressed.”

“You’re taking the piss,” mutters Ghost. “What do you want?”

Soap opens his mouth, clearly intending to deliver a message, but his gaze snags as if caught on a fishing hook.

“Fucking hell,” he breathes as he focuses in on your nude body.

You snatch the bedsheet, covering yourself quickly.

“Eyes on me, Sergeant,” growls Ghost. There’s no kindness in it—only authority.

Soap’s gaze lingers for a few seconds, eventually shifting back to Ghost. “This an open invitation, Lt?”

“No.”

“Sure about that?” asks Soap. He starts to lean to the side, peering at you around Ghost’s shoulder.

Ghost steps into his line of sight, cutting you off from his view. “Put one foot inside this door and I’ll fucking kill you.”

Soap snorts. “Okay, Lt,” he laughs. “I’ll back off.”

Tucking the sheet around you, you scoot down the bed, leaning forward to listen in.

“What’s all this?”

“Clothes,” answers Soap. “Clean uniform for you. Things for her.”

Ghost grunts and extends his arms. Soap surrenders the clothes to him. “Should grab breakfast before it’s all gone.”

“We’ll do that,” mumbles Ghost.

Soap shrugs, and then a wickedly mischievous grin spreads over his face. “Unless this is your breakfast?”

Ghost’s answer is to slam the door in Soap’s face.

There will be no continuation. It’s clear from the heave of Ghost’s shoulders before he turns around to face you. And it’s not like you want to anyway. The fleeting moment of desperation and craving for human connection is shattered. Reality has made a home in your bones, sobering you against the lust you felt only minutes ago.

“What did he bring?” you ask, sliding to the edge of the bed.

Ghost walks up to the bed, dropping the stack on the edge. He starts to sort it, dividing everything into two piles.

“There’s pants and a long-sleeved shirt for you.” He tosses them into your lap. “Socks. A jacket.” Ghost goes through the clothes one more time. “Nothing else.”

No bra or underwear. That’s fine. You can go without for now.

As you start to turn away with the intent to dress yourself, Ghost’s arm rises, his large hand grasping the side your neck. You’re forced back around, staring up at him. He takes a step forward into your space, but you don’t break eye contact. You don’t dare look away.

Everything is falling back into place.

You hate this man even if his mouth made you moan. All you know has been ripped from you, and Ghost is leading you toward a huge unknown without even considering what you want. It’s wrong. It’s fucked up.

It’s a drowning.

In an act of defiance, you attempt to jerk out of his hold, but Ghost remains firm, squeezing until you comply.

“If you want to belong to me, just say the word. I can make it happen.”

You remain mute. Silent.

Fuck him. Fuck all of this.

You are not a toy. Not a piece of property. You are a person, and that should be enough. At home, you were an equal, and no one dared lay hands on you. But this is not home. This is…society. What’s left of it. The very dredges of humanity.

And it’s like scraping the bottom of a shit pot.

Whether Ghost likes your silence or not is unclear. When he releases your neck, he doesn’t ask again, and he doesn’t make conversation. He completely turns away from you, dressing like you’re not even in the room.

Tears form, threatening to spill over, to make you appear weak and frail before him. Angrily wiping at your eyes, you drop the sheet and give Ghost your back. He’s already seen you naked. Fuck—you were holding yourself open while he tongued your pussy. What’s a bit of skin?

You dress quickly, wanting to fix your hair in the mirror before you leave. But as you turn around, you find all your thoughts leaving you. Ghost is a masterpiece of a human, and that ember from earlier sparks again, insisting when it shouldn’t.

His pants are black camo. On his upper body is a long sleeve tactical shirt, solid black in the front and back while the sleeves are black camo. Ghost reaches for his gun, attaching it to his thigh. Next are his knives which he lays out on the small desk nearby. You observe but say nothing as he laces up his boots and slides one of the knives into it.

You expect the skull mask, the eye black. Instead, Ghost slips on a plain black balaclava. On his upper bicep is the flag of the United Kingdom and of the United Nations. Neither of those should exist, and you don’t entirely believe what Ghost said last night. There are still questions lingering in your mind, and though you desperately crave answers, this doesn’t seem like the time.

Ghost clears his throat as he adjusts his belt. “Let’s get some food in you.”

A bit of bite comes to the surface. “As I recall,” you begin. “You were wanting to put something else in me just a few minutes ago.”

Ghost stills, his hands still on his belt. “Are you already on your bullshit today?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter.

Guiding the belt through the loop, Ghost tugs, tightening it. “You said you wouldn’t cause problems.”

“How am I causing problems?” you reply, extending your arms outward as if the problem is a physical thing in the room with you.

Ghost shakes his head, giving the belt one more tug before securing it. “My control is thin right now, love.”

“Don’t call me that. I’m not your ‘love.’ I’m not anything to you. We’re not friends. Or lovers.”

Ghost chuckles, placing his hands on his hips. “What would you like me to call you?”

“Use my fucking name.”

Just a few steps and Ghost is on you. You stagger backwards, falling onto the bed as he cages you in. “It is taking everything in me not to rip off your clothes and bend you over.”

“Fucking try it,” you snarl.

Ghost is completely calm, unfazed by your outburst. “You’d look so pretty full of me.”

You know he’s goading you. And you fall for it. “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“I’d keep you here,” he continues. “Fucking breed you until you’re dripping.” Ghost pushes in, and you have nowhere to go. His face is so close, the fabric of the balaclava scratches your skin. “Put a baby in you. Then you’d truly belong to me.”

No. No.

“You’re no better than those men you killed.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, bird. With me, you’d be protected. Cared for. You’d want for nothing.”

“You don’t even know me,” you reply. “Every word you say is a lie.”

Ghost shakes his head. “I don’t lie.” You scoff, but he continues. “And you can’t take back what happened this morning.”

With both hands on his chest, you shove at him. Ghost doesn’t budge. He is a rock. Immovable.

“You wanted me,” he murmurs.

“Shut up,” you stammer, shoving at him again.

“So wet,” he purrs. “And it was all for me.”

“Stop,” you plead, giving him another shove.

Ghost pushes off from the bed in one fluid movement. Grasping your wrists, he yanks you up and onto your feet.

“I’m not your enemy,” he says like his word alone is enough for you to agree.

It’s all fucked. All of it. You need to survive, to make sure you’re safe for whatever comes to greet you, but you’re afraid. Fearful, like a cornered animal.

Lieutenant Riley is your enemy as much as he is your protector. It’s maddening. Unfair.

I don’t want to go with you. I want to go home.

You lick your lips, trying so desperately hard not to fall apart in front of him. “Then show me,” you plead.

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[its-not-a-pen]

bro did boeing design this spaceship why is EVERYTHING broken??? fanart OFFICIAL COVER ART for time to orbit: unknown by @derinthescarletpescatarian

god the attention to detail and creativity put into the futuristic technology is astounding. my favourite detail is how the ship creates artificial gravity through centrifugal force. (get inside the Giant Washing Machine future space colonists! it's perfectly safe and very functional!) design notes:

I'm only on chapter 6 rn but this is what aspen looks like in my head.

the vibe im going for is borderline cosmic horror. aspen greaves' face opens up to reveal Spaceship Guts inside. i decided to combine aspen with the s.s. courageous to make them one organism (Courageous-Aspen) to symbolise how the colonists' survival are totally dependant on their malfunctioning ship. it's also a cool way to show the weight of loneliness and responsibility weighing on aspen e.g. the ship is constantly on their mind, even as they're barely holding themself together.

mini!aspen is on a spacewalk looking at big!aspen. something something, existential angst about realising how vulnerable and insignificant you are in the vast uncaring void of space.

Wips:

not a lot of revisions between draft and lineart. my only big change was making the aspen's eyelines match up, so they are looking at themselves. oh fun fact! the plain black background was actually a merging error, i originally had stars but the layers got deleted and i ended up keeping it like that because it looks SO cool and bleak.

[mide404]

As autumn leaves scatter, the leaves of our memories scatter here and there, carrying with them the cells of time, the words of thoughts, and human emotions. Once upon a time, we grew and matured, we dreamed and aspired, we lived in pleasure, and suffered pain. We experienced desire and ventured into the fields of work.

Now, our dreams have stopped, and our ambitions have dissipated. Our vast and wide hopes have shrunk into small and narrow spaces. From the expansive space... to an unknown world. Today, we lament our youth lost to war, and mourn the days that go to waste. I am overwhelmed now by feelings of boredom, weakness, and helplessness, escaping from our present to our past, and from our future to our past.

When will we be able to live our present moment with hope? Will we be able to turn the days of war into memories and scenes we can accept?

The feelings of departure are painful, sad, and lonely, making the heart throb and the eyes tear up. But when it is a departure from pain and sorrow, from a narrow prison, from long-lasting deprivation, to a long-awaited beloved, to a spacious world where there is no oppression, no harm, no worry, and no trouble... do not be surprised by how one perished, but rather marvel at how one survived in a moment of weakness and pain, my friend.

Just like my family, torn apart by the brutal war, which cruelly claimed my father and did not stop until it took my niece and my sister’s daughter, both with innocent souls... until it reached the point of destroying their home and memories completely. They are now homeless and without support, and the innocent souls have disappeared and left the place. They now live in displacement camps that carry nothing but suffering and torment in their name.

I, Mahmoud Saleh, appeal to you to look upon my torn and displaced family with mercy, and grant them the chance to continue their lives in peace. I stand before these compassionate hearts to help what remains of my family and provide them with a better living, so they may enjoy safety and peace.

@bilal-salah0

[ambrosiagoldfish]

I've never sent a request before, but I'm fiending for more adam, like anything, anything at all

Benefit of the doubt

Adam x 3rd Spouse! Reader

Viewer discretion is advised

Warnings: Angst(?), Not exactly fluff at the end but it gets better, typical Adam TW’s, reader low-key high-key has a complex about being loved, this is set way before the show, and Gn! Reader. (Also Y/n isn’t used, which also surprised me, the author, LMAO)

Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1760

A/N: Hi! Thanks for the request! I haven’t had a chance to write something that was originally my own idea in a while, so this was very refreshing! I’ve had this idea since I’ve watched the show so I hope you enjoy it!

I’m entirely up for making a small series from this oneshot, but I would need to know y’all’s opinion on it! (So don’t feel scared to let me know if you want some more of this idea in my Request box/the replies on this post!!)

Also Adam may be slightly OOC but please just chalk it up to him not yet getting his ego’s dick sucked 24/7

Anyways, I hope you all enjoy, let me know if you do!

Proofread but of course could have left mistakes!

You’ve existed for almost all of human existence, Almost.

You were the 4th being to be created during the time of Eden. But unlike the other 3, you weren’t human. In fact, you technically never lived before. An honestly hopeless existence, yet it was so beautiful in every way. But for what purpose? Well…

You were created shortly after Eve ate the apple, before she and eventually Adam committed the first act of sin that caused evil to latch onto humanity like a leech.

The reason for your existence was simple. To be Adam’s new spouse, except for when after he died. From the very moment Eve bit the fruit of temptation, it was already decided she would hold no place in heaven. Adam was given mercy due to him not possessing any knowledge of the fruit Eve had shared with him, he trusted her wholeheartedly. Which is exactly why heaven gave him mercy… no, pity would be a better choice of words.

Upon your creation you learned immediately of the happenings before your existence. About Lilith and Eve, and about Lucifer

And so, after Adam and Eve were casted away from the Garden, they continued to live their lives, fostering the existence of mankind for the rest of time. And when they eventually died, Adam was given pity while Eve was thrown to the wayside, the vast unknown.

You thought it was finally your time to experience existence with the one you loved, the one you were made for. Of course you never would know life as he did but surely your life never-after life could be just as meaningful as his.

How excited you were, how completely enamored by the thought of it. But there was a problem with that, Adam had grown into a new person, he was meant to of course, he was human. But he had grown selfish, abhorrent… insecure.

You understood why, to be betrayed by not one but two of his wives for the same person. You couldn’t possibly imagine what he could be feeling. Before you were to meet your future husband, Sera informed you that he had asked for a mask, and once on, he has refused to take it off.

That didn’t bother you, it’s irrelevant to your love for him. You've only heard descriptions of his features. Short Brown hair, gold eyes, bushy eyebrows, some scruff on his chin. All in all, he sounded perfectly fine, ordinary even. But even then it’s his choice to wear the mask, so you’ll respect it.

Finally, the time he arrived in heaven, and when Sera finally introduced you, his new spouse, the one to whom would be by his side for the rest of forever.

He rejected you outright.

“What?” Your breath hitched as you stuttered over the word, the sharp inhale of your lungs through your mouth flicked through the air.

Sera looked just as shocked as you but she quickly regained her composure “What is the meaning of this Adam?”

“If you think I’m going to let my life get fucked over by another one of your “gifts” well, you’ve got another thing coming!” He crossed his arms and shook his head defyingly. “I’ve already learned my lesson with those last 2 bitches.”

“Adam I’m sorry that happened to you but I would never-“ almost like lightning his finger shot to your mouth, shushing you.

“Save it, Sweetcheeks, I really don’t care what you have to say, so just stay there and look pretty, k?” His hand fell and grabbed the sides of your face, squishing your cheeks together, his LED mask flashing a sharp smile.

You saddeningly looked down at the clouds below you.

“Adam!” Sera’s voice sounded through the air, still soft but firm, she continued, placing a hand on your shoulder, “Divine judgment allowed you to be the first human soul in heaven, so I gave you the benefit of the doubt. I expect you to give your new spouse that same grace.”

Slowly your eyes looked up at Sera with a soft smile. Adam only groaned “Ugh, Fine but don’t be fuxking annoying, capiche?” You nod your head quickly.

“Very good, glad we have it settled.” Sera gives a quick smile, “now, I have some business to take care of so I’ll leave you two alone to get to know one another” With that, Sera flew away leaving the both of you alone.

The silence was thick in the air, the only sound being the occasional wind breeze blowing past. The sunlight creeps in through the clouds painting an orange sky above you both. In every sense of the word, it was perfect.

It was almost funny. You had waited so long to finally meet him, your true love, the one you were made for. All the things you dreamed about, the laughs you’d have together, the warm embrace of the person who you loved. But now… you didn’t know what to say…

“I’m… happy to finally meet you.” Your voice is quiet, almost non-audible. “I’ve been waiting for you since… well, forever…”

He doesn’t respond. He seems to be transfixed on something below you both. You train your eyes on whatever he’s watching only to see the dark cavernous abyss below you. Finally he breaks his silence.

“The fuck is that?” He asked pointing down, a sound of genuine intrigue hidden behind his abrasive voice

“That’s hell?” You stated confused “where would-be sinners will go to be punished, didnt you k-“ you suddenly realized that perhaps Adam really didn’t know what hell was. It was only created relatively recently, after Eve and Him ate the apple, of course he wouldn’t know. “it’s also where Lucifer-“

“Don’t fucking say his name.” Adam spoke, his voice rough in his speech. LED mask putting a harsh frown on his face. “Let’s get one thing straight M”Kay babe, if you’re my “new spouse” that’s something you should remember.” The “new spouse” was said with a tone clearly meant to mock you.

“Sorry…”

“Ugh, It’s fine, just don’t do it again.” He groaned before a wicked smile crept onto his mask “Sooo, that means he’s going to be stuck with all the wasteful beings of existence, HA fuxkin’ hilarious. Guess that makes them the losers and us the Winners!”

His laugh filled the air, the sound was like music to your ears, sure maybe it wasn’t really what you’d hoped he’d fine funny, but you loved it all the same but eventually his laugh died down

Silence again… in admits of all of it you suddenly was sparked with a thought “oh!” Adam looked confused at the random exclamation. “I had almost forgotten… I brought you something, as a welcome gift or was it a nice to meet you gift? Both? Eh, it doesn’t matter but the point is-“ you suddenly snap your fingers.

Golden light began shining, the light seemed like liquid hot magma as it moved and molded slowly into a shape. Light seemed to be overlapping and churning into itself, forming your desired outcome. With one final snap of your fingers, the gleaming gold liquid took hold, and quickly hardened to a solid.

The object that had formed quickly fell down, landing in your arms with a light thud.

“I’m still learning this creation stuff, so I’m sorry if it’s not perfect but-“ you hold out the object in your arms as an invitation to grab it “I learned from Sera that you liked to play guitar when you were alive, so I thought you might like to have one here…”

Adam looked at the instrument in your hands. The base color was gold, the neck was pearly white with gold strings. To be honest it looked more like a harp then anything, like if a guitar and a harp had a baby.

Silence again. Did he not like it? Did he hate it? You go to pull it back to you and apologize when suddenly it’s ripped out from your hands.

“Holyshit, this is sick as Fuck!” Adam immediately started playing some rifts on the new guitar. The sound wasn’t what you were expecting but you guess Sera was right about his talent with the instrument. The whole time his mask had a wide and sharp smile as he mimicked guitar sounds with his voice, the occasional laugh leaving his mouth.

“I’m really glad you like it” you say, a sigh of relief leaving your body.

Adam looked at you, one you missed. He saw how relieved you were, how nice you were being. No person who supposedly loved him ever gifted him something, well, one other did. Someone he trusted and loved more than everyone, anyone. But look how that ended, with them being removed from the garden, away from an eternity of happiness until he died. All from someone giving him what he thought was nothing but love, a gift.

But he could see that this was different, you were different. When Eve gave him the apple, she didn’t explain what it was or why she wanted him to eat it, even when he asked her she didn’t explain. But with you, you had not only given him something you knew he liked but also expressed the reason behind it. Yes, you were different, even Adam could see it.

“Anyways, thanks for the axe, I guess…” Adam for the first time was stunned, but quickly he continued “What was the thing that Sera chick said about me and “divine judgment” or whatever the fuck? That she gave me the “benefit of the doubt…”

You were a bit confused but continued listening, “I guess I should at least try to give you a chance, since you got me this sick ass guitar an’ shit.” Your face lit up, you about began to speak before you were, once again, shushed “B-B-But-” his finger tapped your lips with each repeated syllable ”-only a chance. If you betray me like those last 2 bitches then you’re done, got it?”

To say you were overjoyed would be an understatement, a smile quickly plastered across your face as you quickly nodded your head

“Alright good, so uh, what do ya say about showing me the best places to get a bite to eat around here, I could really go for some ribs right about now.”

“ I’d… love to, thank you Adam”

“Yeah don’t mention it Sweetcheeks” Adam quickly wrapped his arm around your shoulder and you two began walking.

Maybe you will get your eternity of happiness.you can only pray you do.

[flwrkid14]

Eternal Bonds: Tim and Danny’s Infinite Realms Marriage

In the Infinite Realms, marriage is an unparalleled commitment. Unlike the mortal world, where love can be fleeting and easily undone, marriage in the Realms is something far more sacred. It’s not just about vows or ceremonies—it’s about merging souls, creating a bond that not even the vast stretches of time can sever. The very idea of marriage in the Realms is rare, almost mythical, because it requires two beings to love each other so profoundly that they’re willing to bind their very existence to one another.

For the ghosts and entities that reside in this realm, eternity isn’t just a poetic idea—it’s a reality. Time is meaningless when you’re no longer alive, when your very essence is bound to the afterlife. And because of this, relationships are viewed through a different lens. There’s no such thing as divorce, no “time apart.” Once a couple is bound, their souls are intertwined forever. To dedicate your entire being—past, present, and future—to another means accepting that their joys, sorrows, triumphs, and failures will be yours too. It’s a partnership where breaking the bond is simply impossible.

It’s why marriage is such a rare occurrence in the Realms. The ghosts, who have already lived one life and often seen the frailty of mortal promises, don’t enter into this kind of bond lightly. It’s only for the strongest of loves, for the most steadfast of commitments. Because once you marry in the Infinite Realms, that bond holds through eternity itself.

And yet, despite the gravity of it all, Tim and Danny find themselves willing to make that very commitment. Tim, a mortal tied to a world where things end, where nothing lasts forever, steps into the unknown. His love for Danny is so deep, so unshakable, that he agrees to a traditional Infinite Realms marriage. He knows full well the weight of it—he’s not just vowing to love Danny in this life, but in every life after. In swearing to this bond, Tim is offering his entire being to Danny, for now and all of eternity.

For Danny, this choice means even more. As a halfa, he exists between two worlds, knowing both the mortality of the living and the permanence of the ghostly afterlife. His love for Tim is powerful enough that he’s willing to make this eternal commitment, knowing that there’s no one else in any world—mortal, ghostly, or beyond—he would rather be tied to. For Danny, the bond is as natural as breathing. It’s a connection that deepens their relationship in a way that transcends the limitations of their two worlds.

Their marriage isn’t just a declaration of love—it’s a merging of souls, a binding that makes them two parts of the same whole. It overwhelms them with the sense of safety and belonging that they’ve both craved in their lives. In each other, they find the kind of love that doesn’t just endure life’s difficulties but thrives beyond them. Their bond ties them together forever in a way that no one else could understand, but to Tim and Danny, it’s everything.

They are each other’s home. And in the Infinite Realms, there is no greater honor, no stronger connection, than to be bound by love for all of eternity.

[lowytavis]

Bodhi Durran x Reader - Wait? We have a child

Warnings: unknown pregnancy, fear of loss, angst

Short: Bodhi and his troup were sent away on a mission outside of the wards after graduation. None of them returned for 1,5 years. And you thought your boyfriend hat died. And so did your almost 1 year old son.

____

"I don't want you to go," I murmured against Bodhi's chest, holding him tighter as if I could keep him here just a little longer.

He sighed softly, resting his chin on the top of my head.

"My love, I promise, in just four weeks, I'll be back with you," he whispered, his voice gentle like a warm breeze.

Then, he pressed a long, loving kiss to my lips, as if sealing his vow with that touch.

But he did not keep his promise.

No one came back.

Day after day, week after week, I waited.

Watching the horizon, hoping—praying—to see the familiar silhouettes of dragons soaring through the sky.

But neither the dragons nor their riders ever returned from the mission.

"You promised," I whispered, my voice trembling as I looked up at the vast, empty sky.

Tears welled in my eyes, spilling down my cheeks, each drop carrying the weight of my broken heart.

____

Fast forward a couple months

"You’re pregnant," Violet murmured, gently holding my hair back as I leaned over the toilet, retching—for the fifth time in the last five days.

"There’s no other explanation," she added firmly. Rhiannon, who was sitting beside me, ran a soothing hand over my back.

Tears welled up in my eyes, blurring my vision as the realization hit me like a wave.

I was carrying a child—a child I could never share with him.

My love, my Bodhi.

He would have been the most wonderful father.

The kindest, the most loving, the most devoted. He would have held me close, whispered words of reassurance, dreamed with me about our future together.

But he was gone.

I exhaled shakily, sinking into the depths of my thoughts.

What if things had been different?

What if Bodhi had come back from the mission?

What if Panschek had never called his name alongside the others?

What if, instead of Violet and Rhiannon, it was him sitting beside me right now?

Holding me.

Comforting me.

What if Bodhi were here?

But he wasn't.

So I let Rhiannon and Violet take care of me.

They cared for my pregnant body, which grew weaker with each passing day.

For my broken heart—one that friendship could not heal, but at least made the pain more bearable.

And for the tiny new heart growing within me, a fragile spark of life in the midst of my grief.

____

Fast forward a couple months

"I don’t know what to call him," I murmured happily, though exhaustion clung to my voice.

Violet and Xaden sat beside me on the bed, their eyes fixed on the tiny baby boy in my arms—the son I had just brought into the world.

Violet’s eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and so did Xaden’s.

"Bodhi would have loved him," Xaden said quietly, his voice laced with sorrow.

There was no doubt where his thoughts had wandered—to his cousin, to the man who should have been here to meet his son, but never would.

"Finding the right name is hard," Violet murmured, gently running her fingers over the baby's soft, delicate face.

"He looks like Bodhi," she whispered. And she was right.

Up until now, I had been too focused on surviving the birth to truly see him.

The overwhelming joy of holding my son filled me with warmth, but the moment I really looked at him, the crushing grief of Bodhi’s absence washed over me like a tidal wave.

His hair was already dark, thick, and curling at the edges—just like Bodhi’s.

A striking contrast to my own.

He was a Durran through and through.

"What about Malachi?" I suggested, testing the name on my tongue. But the moment I said it, I shook my head. "No... that doesn’t feel right."

"I think Koa is fitting," I suggest softly.

Xaden perks up, a small smile breaking through the lingering sorrow on his face.

"That’s the perfect name for the little guy. Koa. Durran?"

"Yes, Durran," I confirm, my voice thick with emotion. "After his father."

Tears well up in my eyes as I speak, the weight of Bodhi’s absence pressing against my chest.

"Welcome to the world, little Koa," Violet whispers, her voice warm and full of love as she gently strokes his tiny head.

____

The months flew by in a blur. With all the chaos happening at Basgiath, it was no surprise.

Things had become far too dangerous for all of us.

So, Xaden made the decision—we, Violet, the other marked ones, and I, along with Koa, his last blood relative, would relocate to Riorson House.

It was the safest option, especially for Koa. And for Violet. Violet Riorson - his now pregnant wife.

Koa was growing fast, too fast.

He was quick, agile, and far too clever for his age.

Violet often helped me care for him, especially on the days when grief took hold of me and refused to let go. 

I thought, with time, the grief would become more bearable.

But the older Koa grew, the more he resembled his father. And I could swear, his mannerisms were just like Bodhi's.

"Uncle Xaden," Koa gurgled, reaching his tiny arms out toward him. He couldn't say much yet—after all, he was only 11 months old. "Mom, Uncle Gar, Uncle Xaden, Aunt Vi," he babbled, his words a mix of innocence and heartache.

And then, when he saw the framed picture of Bodhi hanging in the throne room—a memorial that Xaden had placed there on the first anniversary of Bodhi's death—he said, "Papa."

It was a bittersweet reminder that Bodhi was gone, but not forgotten.

And now, Koa carried pieces of him with every smile, every word, and every gesture.

____

Rain lashed against Riorson House, its rhythmic thrum echoing through the stone walls.

Xaden had been pacing restlessly all day, his unease palpable. "Violet, please go to YN and Koa—something's wrong," he murmured urgently, gently guiding his very pregnant wife toward my chambers. "Go now."

(...)

I patted the empty space next to me on the bed, offering a smile.

"Come," I said.

She returned the smile and collapsed onto the bed, her large belly making her look almost too small for the weight she carried.

"If that’s not a pair of them," I grinned, tapping her stomach.

Violet shot me an exaggerated look of mock horror, her eyes wide.

"Oh, please—don’t even joke about it. Two? We’ll have a whole little army soon enough."

I chuckled and pulled the blanket up to my chin, my thoughts heavy with the storm outside.

The last thing I remembered was the warmth of Violet beside me... then sleep slowly pulling me under.

I woke up to the soft patter of little feet as a tiny human—named Koa—tried to climb into bed with me and his aunt.

He squirmed, his chubby hands reaching up as if determined to join us.

I gently lifted Koa into my arms, pulling him close and holding him as he nestled against me.

The warmth of his small body, so innocent and full of love, soothed me. Mere seconds later, I drifted back into a peaceful sleep, the sound of rain outside creating the perfect lullaby.

The rain—it had always been my favorite sound to fall asleep to.

A gentle, constant rhythm that washed away the worries of the world, if only for a little while.

____

The door flung open with a loud crash, snapping me awake. Xaden stood in the doorway, his face pale with shock, eyes wide with urgency.

Without a word, he commanded, "Violet, YN, come with me—now."

Koa, still asleep in my arms, barely stirred, so I gently eased him back into the bed, tucking the blankets around him before rushing to Xaden.

We moved swiftly, following his tense figure down the hall, our hearts racing with the unknown.

As we reached the yard, my breath caught in my throat. Three dragons stood in the landing field, their massive forms looming against the stormy sky.

One of them stood out immediately—Cuir.

My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the sleek, dark green scales, the sharp, intelligent eyes.

Bodhi’s dragon.

The one who had once carried my late boyfriend through the skies, but who had disappeared along with him, never to return.

Xaden froze for a moment, the shock on his face swelling with something I couldn’t quite place.

Violet's hand grasped mine, her eyes wide as she took in the sight of Cuir, standing as if nothing had changed.

Her gaze flickered from dragon to dragon. The other two dragons... Lutic and Maghraxs.

My mind raced, the pieces clicking together. These were the same two dragons that had been with Cuir and Bodhi the night they vanished, the night everything went wrong.

The night they disappeared from our lives forever.

My breath caught in my chest, a cold feeling settling deep in my stomach.

Violet stood frozen beside me, her eyes locked on the three dragons, shock and disbelief written across her face.

Xaden, on the other hand, was a trembling mess.

His body shook as he stepped forward, inching closer to Cuir, as if drawn by an invisible force.

"Is it really...?" Violet whispered, her voice barely audible in the still air.

Xaden nodded, though his eyes were filled with doubt.

It was as though he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing, and yet... he couldn’t pull away.

Cuir’s eyes locked with Xaden’s, a moment of recognition passing between them. The air around us felt charged, thick with emotions neither of us could name.

And then... The world seemed to hold its breath.

Bodhi.

Sitting atop Cuir.

My heart stopped.

It felt like the world was spinning, and I was about to faint.

There, before me, was Bodhi—alive.

His presence seemed impossible, yet undeniable.

Xaden, beside me, stood frozen, staring at his cousin—who was supposed to be dead.

His face was a mix of disbelief, confusion.

Bodhi slid down from Cuir with a fluid grace, closing the distance between him and Xaden.

The two of them stood for a brief moment, eyes locking. And then, without hesitation, they embraced.

Their arms wrapped around each other in a powerful, heartwarming hug—one that held so much emotion, so much love, there wasn’t an inch between them.

They held on tight, as though their bond was something that had never been broken, despite all that had happened.

Violet and I stood in stunned silence, our eyes wide, our minds struggling to comprehend the scene unfolding before us.

And then, Bodhi’s eyes found mine.

"Bodhi?" My voice cracked, barely a whisper.

My knees gave out beneath me, and I collapsed to the ground, my body wracked with sobs.

The relief, the joy, the overwhelming emotions flooded over me all at once.

Before I knew it, Bodhi was there, stumbling toward me—fast, but limping, his movements pained.

His eyes were filled with concern as he dropped to his knees on the muddy, wet ground beside me.

He gathered me into his arms, holding me tight as the tears flowed uncontrollably.

I clung to him, my chest heaving with every sob. He kissed my head, again and again, as though he couldn’t stop himself, as if he were trying to make up for all the time lost.

Violet, too, was pulled into the embrace, tears streaming down her face as she pressed against us.

The three of us, wrapped together in a reunion so raw, so filled with love and grief, we all cried.

Bodhi looked at Violet, his eyes widening with shock. "You’re... pregnant?"

His voice was a mix of wonder and disbelief.

A small, exhausted grin tugged at his lips, though his face betrayed the toll the journey had taken on him.

He looked different—worn, tired—but alive.

And in that moment, the exhaustion seemed secondary to the joy of being home.

"You’re alive," I whispered through my tears.

"I thought I’d lost you forever."

Bodhi kissed my forehead gently again, holding me even tighter.

"I’m here, love. I’m here."

____

Minutes felt like hours.

We were still standing in the rain, right in the middle of the landing field.

Bodhi and the two other riders, Tomba and Kevis, were telling us about the intrigue, the other fallen comrades, their desperate attempts to escape captivity—a struggle that had lasted a whole 1.5 years until they finally succeeded.

36 hours ago, they had managed to escape.

They’d flown for 36 hours straight—from Basgiath, where they found nothing but death, to Aretia.

To us.

“Papa,” I heard Koa’s small voice as he entered the landing field, pointing at Bodhi.

I hadn’t even noticed that he had come outside.

Bodhi stared at Koa with wide eyes.

“Mama, that’s Papa!” Koa said, looking up at me.

Bodhi’s gaze shifted to me—his eyes, wide and beautiful, locked onto mine.

I smiled shyly and walked toward Bodhi.

“I think I need to introduce you to someone,” I said, lifting Koa into my arms.

“Bodhi, this is Koa Durran,” I said softly. “Your son.”

Bodhi was at a loss for words as he stared at Koa, who happily turned to Xaden.

"Uncle Xaden, that’s Papa!" he giggled, and with a joyful rush, he flung himself into Bodhi's arms.

Bodhi stood frozen, his eyes wide with shock, as Koa wrapped his small arms around him.

He glanced at me, still in disbelief.

"Wait… we have a child? I have a son? What else did I miss?" His voice cracked, and tears welled up in his eyes. "I'm so sorry, love... Wait? Koa Durran? You kept my last name alive?" he whispered, his gaze fixed on me with overwhelming emotion.

I sniffled, my own tears beginning to spill.

"Well, I never got to have your last name, so I thought Koa might want to at least..." I trailed off, my voice faltering.

Bodhi let out a soft, teary laugh. "Oh, we are so going to fucking change your last name, love," he moaned, his voice filled with emotion as he pulled me close.

He wrapped his arms around me, Koa still nestled in his embrace.

I could feel the warmth of our little family finally coming together after so long.

Violet, her face streaked with tears, scooted closer, desperate for a hug.

She reached out, pulling Xaden along with her, and we all gathered together.

The weight of everything that had happened seemed to melt away as we embraced, the sense of being whole, of finally being reunited, flooding over us.

For the first time in a year and a half, we were whole.

No grief.

No pain.

Just love.

The first night in 1.5 years as a family.

The first night filled with peace, warmth, and a sense of completion we had longed for.

Reunited. Finally. Forever.

[oneirophasia]

Okay, my turn to make a voidpunk poll, no more of this "digital and fleshy and eldritch and fay and divine are all mutually exclusive things" nonsense

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

To Explore Eternity

Dani soon began to be bored of traveling around the world she was growing and with her growth so did her need and obsession with not to be in one place for too long, the thought of a stationary life always made her feel disconnected from her body from the utter revulsion it filled her with.

So as she began to see the rise of heroes around the world began to multiply and rise and then a group gathered and called themselves the Justice League she saw an opportunity.

They had the resources to get into space to travel into the vast unknown. If she managed to leave Earth she could explore it all.

Just the mere thought of having that chance to explore, in her near future made her practically glow.

Now to plan how she would get into the Justice League and get enough of their stuff without being caught.

It would be too risky to get caught with the Anti-Ecto Acts making her mere existence a crime.

But with the thought of all there was out there just waiting for her to reach out and grab an experience.

Well she always liked a challenge and her success would just make it sweeter.

~

Dani rubbing her hands together while doing her best villain laugh

JL: "Something... just happened and I don't like it."

~

Who will win?

The JL made of many powerful and trained heroes or one ghost child who will bite if you get in between her and her freedom.

~

Just an Idea

[jezebelblues]

saturn bound | h.s

summary: in which the world ends in your point of view, alongside your husband.

cw: death, angsty-ish i guess? unedited, grammatically correct in upper case if that tickles ur fancy.

word count: approx 1.4k. she’s a shortie

| this is in first person! (perspective of you, as reader) i was iffy about a 1st perspective so i edited in both 2nd and 3rd, but 1st person felt right. sorry if u hate, ladies.

masterlist

No one would remember me as YN, no one would remember my husband as Harry.

As the world crumbled into its final moments, you’d think that chaos would envelope everyone whole. That people would be running, screaming, fighting, as if they could somehow wrestle with the jaws of fate. Mothers clutching their children, fathers desperately barking orders to no one, families collapsing under the weight of hopelessness. Dogs howling into the wind after their selfish owners sped off, children sobbing as the air itself seemed to shudder with terror. A cacophony of fear.

You’d imagine fear cause these people knew their life was going to end.

And it was there undeniably, fear. Not the frantic kind, though. A different one—a quiet terror that settled deep in the bones, cold and ancient, like the Earth itself had finally whispered its last breath into our ears. It didn’t matter what was ending us—whether the dead were clawing from their graves, or if the sky had split apart and let loose the fires of heaven, or some disease had snatched us, unseen, from within. It didn’t matter. Not really. Because the truth was simple, inevitable: today, all life on Earth would be snuffed out, and we would become nothing—a floating spec of a forgotten afterthought.

There would be no future, no one left to carry the stories of humankind forward. No history books filled with our triumphs and tragedies. There would be no mourning of our extinction, the things we took for granted. Earth would be a blank—unknown, just one of countless casualties of time. If there was anyone out there in the universe with us, the children of this planet, would be memories swept away like dust, if even that. There would be no tears shed for us. The universe, so vast, would hardly notice our passing.

Some prayed. Desperation forced them down to their knees, begging for salvation, for some kind of afterlife, something more beautiful than their end. The thought of death so terrifying that they’d hope and pray they’ll end up in heaven—hell, even. Anything other than nothing, than eternal darkness. I understood, in a way, because nothing is scary—we’re alive, we’ve never experienced it—it’s impossible to wrap your mind around nothing.

Others drank. I joined them, a bottle of tequila in hand, the burn numbing me just enough to make peace with the fact that I would die today. And my Harry, the man that gave me his last name, would die beside me.

Harry Styles, the man the world adored, the man I called my husband—sat next to me, his head resting softly against my shoulder. We watched as Saturn, impossibly close now, loomed over us, over our home, like an executioner asking for our final words. Its rings shimmered, casting a glow that drowned out the stars. The air was thick with sobs, with whispered prayers. People clung to each other like lifelines, as if the touch of another human might hold them here, in this world that was no longer theirs. Some screamed, but most just stood and stared, watching death arrive with a strange, defeated calm—a cobra swaying in dance before striking its prey.

Harry’s hand found mine, gripping it tightly as if to stay grounded. He tried to pray, the fingers on his left hand trembling with the grasp of his cross pendant, but his voice cracked, breaking on the words. Tears ran down his face, but I couldn’t cry. There was nothing left in me to give to hope or fear. Once, faith could’ve been my anchor, but now it felt like a lie I might tell myself to feel safe. There was no safety here. There was no escaping this.

And so I watched, as those I had once called neighbors, friends, fought against the inevitable. They ran, though there was nowhere to go. They screamed, though no one could hear. They prayed, though no god would answer. It was almost pathetic, the way they clung to the last shreds of life. But maybe it gave them some comfort. Maybe that was all anyone wanted in the end—their last conjured thought to be at least I tried.

"You know-” he trailed off softly, his voice breaking the stillness between us, "I always thought we'd have more time. That mayb-” He sighed. “Maybe we'd get old together."

His words struck me like a blow. "I thought so too." I whispered, feeling the ache in my chest grow heavier. It felt so cruel, to have found this love, this overwhelming, all-consuming love, only to have it ripped away after two years of marriage. "We deserved more, H.”

My husband’s thumbs ran circles upon the back of my hand, his tears glistening in the glow of Saturn. His lip quivered, voice shaky. “We can be old now.” He sent me a sad smile, pressing a kiss into my temple. “Happy fiftieth anniversary.” He murmured, playing with the ring on my finger.

I couldn’t stifle the whimper that fell from my grin, nodding to his words. I stared at his wedding band that shimmered in the light before passing the bottle of tequila between us—a toast. To fifty years of marriage. That would’ve something to drink to.

One swig turned into three, three turned into five. It had helped stopped the tears eventually.

Harry turned to me, his face inches from mine, and I could see the weight of the world in his eyes—a humorous irony, really, now that we really are practically weightless as we pull into Saturn’s gravity. He raised a hand, cupping my face so gently, as though I were something precious that he didn't want to break.

"If I could choose how it all ends," he whispered, his breath warm against my lips, "I'd choose this—here with you. If this is the last thing I feel, the last thing I see, then maybe it's not so bad."

Alcohol couldn't stop the tears then. They spilled over, warm and unrelenting, because what else could I do? I pressed my forehead against his, our breaths mingling as the world began to fall apart around us. The rumble of the Earth cracking, the low roar of Saturn's tug—it all seemed so distant, so unimportant.

"I don't want to lose you." I choked out, my voice barely a whisper.

"You won't, YN." His voice was unwavering, as if he had the book of answers hidden in his pocket. His thumb brushed over my cheek while his lips parted once more. "You'll always have me. Always."

And then he kissed me. It wasn't desperate or rushed. It wasn't the kiss of two people saying goodbye, just an I’ll see you later. It was slow, soft, full of everything we had been to each other. His lips were warm, delicate, and for a moment I could pretend the world wasn't ending. I could pretend that all we had was time.

Saturn’s light bathed the earth in colors that had never seemed so tragically gorgeous—deep purples, blues, and grays, all spinning around the our dying planet. The rings twisted and churned in the sky, pulling our world apart piece by piece, and the wind howled as if it cried for us. The stars dimmed, one by one, turning away from the spectacle of our destruction, unable to bear witness. Maybe they chose to die along side us, not letting Earth go through it alone.—like they were the only ones who’d mourn our death. I silently thanked them, though inanimate, I swear I could feel their empathy.

Harry gripped my hand tighter, his skin warm against the cold air. I brought his hand to my lips and kissed his knuckles. Our foreheads met again, a united front. His green eyes met mine, full of sorrow, of love, of things unsaid. I wanted every one of the five senses to envelope only him. Our last moment to be together, not watching the world collapse, but here, in this space we had carved out between us.

I kissed him. One last time. The taste of salt from his tears mingled with the liquor on my lips. “I love you.” We whispered together, our voices lost in the roar of the sky falling apart.

And then it was gone.

The cold sank into my bones, but it no longer mattered. My heart slowed, and the world around me faded. No more breath in my lungs, no more blood in my veins. Just the void. And as we drifted into that nothingness, I held onto one final hope—that there is some sort of afterlife, so I could find my Harry again.

Yet, the Earth was gone. It dissolved into the void like dust. The stars, too, blinked out one by one, and the universe spun on, indifferent. We were forgotten, nothing left to even decompose in our boundless grave. Perhaps the dead stars that’ll become something more will be our headstones—an indication we were once here.

But for now, it was as if we never existed in the first place.

btw if you feel like you’ve seen this before, i originally wrote this on wattpad in 2017. it was horrible :D but i liked the concept, so this is it readjusted. hope u enjoyed even just a lil <3

[icefox8155]

Ch 1: Of All Places...

Masterlist

This wasn’t supposed to happen.

You had a plan, one carefully mapped out since high school. Go to college in the U.S., work hard, get a good degree, and land a solid job that would set you up for a comfortable life. Maybe even move into a decent apartment, start saving for the future, and build something meaningful for yourself. That was how it was supposed to go.

And for a while, it did.

You got into college, slogged through the classes, pulled all-nighters, and somehow made it out with a degree in hand. You were supposed to be set after that. Finding a good job shouldn’t have been hard, not with your qualifications. And yet… here you were. Months had passed, and rejection after rejection had piled up in your inbox. Excuses varied—“not enough experience,” “we've decided to go with another candidate,” or worse, complete silence.

At some point, you stopped opening the emails. Whatever. You told yourself it wasn’t the end of the world. Maybe the job market was just bad. Maybe luck wasn’t on your side yet. Maybe you’d figure something else out later. But that gnawing feeling in the back of your mind, that unease you tried to suppress whispered that you were stuck, adrift in uncertainty with no clear direction forward.

Frustrated, you let out a heavy sigh and flopped onto your bed, phone in hand. If nothing else, there was one thing that never failed to take your mind off reality. Tapping on the screen, you opened up Solo Leveling once again. It wasn’t the first time you'd reread it, far from it. There was something almost comforting about Jinwoo’s story, his struggle, his rise to power. Maybe it was the way he started as the weakest, the way no one believed in him, and yet, he shattered every expectation. You envied that. The ability to change everything with enough determination, with enough effort.

As you scrolled, your eyes flickered across the familiar panels, tracing each detail you’d already memorized. The hum of your phone screen was the only light in the dim room, the only thing anchoring you as exhaustion weighed on your limbs. Your blinks grew slower, your body heavier. You fought to stay awake—just one more chapter, just one more moment lost in this world where everything made sense.

But sleep crept in, wrapping around you like a warm, suffocating blanket. Your phone slipped slightly in your grasp. Your breathing evened out. You didn’t notice the odd shadow that flickered across the screen. 

Didn’t notice how, just for a second, the edges of your vision seemed to warp. Didn’t see the way the world itself seemed to shift around you, a quiet, unseen force pulling you under. By the time your consciousness faded completely, it was already too late.

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

Waking up in a different place is disorienting at best, terrifying at worst. It sends shockwaves through your entire being. When your eyes flutter open, you don’t find the familiar comfort of your own bed or the muted, worn-out walls of your tiny apartment. Instead, you are greeted by a chaotic symphony of strange sounds and bewildering sights, an overwhelming, unfamiliar place that instantly reminds you that you are not home, not even close.

The first thing that assaults your senses is the relentless clamor of the city, the ceaseless hum of a crowded street and the murmur of endless conversations swirling around you. You bolt upright, your heart hammering against your ribs, as a surge of anxiety floods your chest. Looking around frantically, you notice towering skyscrapers that pierce the sky, their vast shadows creeping over the bustling streets below. People stream past you like a tidal wave, each one lost in their own world, leaving you, a lone, and bewildered figure sitting on a cold, unforgiving bench, feeling invisible and abandoned.

‘Where am I?’ you demand internally. Did someone kidnap you and drop you off in this unknown nightmare? The thought gnaws at your mind relentlessly, fueling a rising panic that makes it hard to breathe. “What the hell is happening?” you mutter, your voice a mix of terror and disbelief.

Desperation twists your thoughts as you try to recall the last fragments of your memory. You remember the comforting ritual of reading a manhwa, specifically Solo Leveling and then succumbing to sleep, yet nothing hints at this surreal journey. The idea of kidnapping seems absurd, who would abandon you in an unknown location after going through the trouble of bringing you here in the first place? Despite the anxiety inside of you, you force yourself to stand, your legs trembling as you dust off your jeans. Jeans? Whatever happened to you pajamas? You shake your head and block out some dark thoughts, wanting to be able to focus on somehow finding a way back home.

A spark of hope flickers when you fumble for your phone, only to be met with a dead, lifeless screen staring back at you. Frustration surges through your veins, but a glimmer of relief comes when you notice a plain gray backpack that is on top of the same bench you woke up on. With trembling hands, you unzip it and discover a collection of items a stack of important-looking papers, a small key, and a weathered wallet. Opening the wallet reveals an ID with your own face, some cash bills, a few credit cards, and a slip of paper bearing an address. In that moment, you allow yourself a brief sigh of gratitude, you aren’t completely abandoned after all. 

As you sift through the documents, you can tell they’re significant, perhaps containing clues to why you’re here. You decide to keep them safe for a more private moment later, your mind already churning with questions and a desperate need for answers. But it's strange the words are not in your common language but you’re able to read them just fine?

Clenching your jaw, you step into the relentless crowd that dominates the street. The energy around you is palpable, vendors call out their wares, people hustle past in either hurrying or just walking past. You force yourself to navigate through the throng, trying to steady your racing thoughts and suppress the inner turmoil that threatens to erupt into panic.

After several long minutes, something catches your eye, a large, neon-lit billboard flickering with advertisements for some kind of news. But what popped up shouldn’t have been possible.Yet there it is, unmistakable images of Choi Jong-in and his guild of Hunters, people who should be fictional you know exist only in the pages of the web novel Solo Leveling, are now glaring back at you from the billboard. Your mind reels as you grapple with the realization these characters are meant to be fictional, yet here they are, a part of your new, terrifying reality.

“No, no, no…” you whisper, the words barely audible over the cacophony of the city. Panic surges once again, but beneath the fear, a steely resolve begins to form. Yet here I was, standing in the middle of Seoul, Korea, in a world where dungeons and hunters were real. A world where Sung Jinwoo existed. Your thoughts spiral. ‘How could this happen? How could I be in a place like this? I’m literally going to die!! Why did it have to be here and not some other modern but monsterless story!’

‘… Better than Attack on Titan.’ you thought

And more importantly, what did this mean for you? You continued walking for a bit before stopping at a nearby news stand and cautiously grabbed a local newspaper.The headline at the top sears itself into your mind, “Third Raid for Jeju Island Failed.” As you stare at those stark words, a chilling realization sets in you, a year, a year before the events of Solo Leveling begin. When everything you once believed was mere fiction or a distant, surreal dream is about to become horrifyingly real.

You feel your pulse quicken as you scan the rest of the page. Other columns spill out more news, hunters on edge, occasional reports of dungeon outbreaks, and ominous warnings of raid groups not all coming out alive but the gate still closed. The air around you seems to thicken, each word a heavier weight pressing down on you. A heavy lump swells in your throat, a reminder of the dread that courses through your veins.

This isn’t just a story you read for amusement, nor is it a nightmare you can simply wake up from, pinching yourself proved ineffective. The thought sends a shiver down your spine, if everything in that story does end up happening, then every danger, the relentless onslaught of dungeons, the brutal battles with formidable hunters and higher beings, is destined to happen all over again, with you right in the midst of it.

You want to hold your face and scream but being determined to not embarrass yourself and regain control, you decide to take a few deep breaths and make a list for you to follow, the first order of business is to avoid the unfolding chaos at all costs. You resolve to steer clear of any encounters with Sung Jinwoo, hunters, or the terrifying dungeons that punctuate this nightmare. After all, you are neither a powerful person nor a part of this story by design. If you can simply keep a low profile, perhaps you can survive until you somehow find a way back to your own world.

Yet, as you move through the busy streets, your mind is a storm of conflicting thoughts. You wonder, with a heavy heart, if ignoring the impending events is truly an option. Could you really let some people die knowing it could be avoided. But at the same time, everything will be restarted anyways with the Cup of Reincarnation, so is there really a point? The weight of this realization presses down on you, intensifying the dread that you are not just an unwilling observer but an active participant in a dangerous game.

Exhausted and overwhelmed, you eventually find refuge in a quiet park. Slumping onto a weathered bench beneath the swaying trees, you let your gaze drift aimlessly across the serene yet alien landscape. The surreal quality of your surroundings so vivid and real collides with the gnawing fatigue in your limbs. Tears sting your eyes, a silent testament to the overwhelming uncertainty of your situation. Clutching the slip of paper with the address, you can’t help but wonder if it holds the key to unraveling this mystery as to why you were brought here, why your name appears on documents you don’t recall creating or as to why you can understand Korean as if it's your first language.

After a moment of soul-searching, you summon the courage to interact with a local. Following a series of nervous exchanges and carefully chosen words, you obtain directions to the address printed on that mysterious slip of paper to an apartment building that seems to promise a temporary refuge from the chaos outside.

With the directions etched in your mind, you retrace your steps and arrive at the building. Digging deeper into the contents of your backpack, you discover a lease form for an apartment along with a small key bearing a room number. After a brief, rushed meeting with the landlord, you are ushered up a narrow flight of stairs and stand before a door marked with the matching number. Pushing it open, you step into a bare, sparse space that strangely mirrors the early days of your old apartment, a single bedroom, a modest bathroom, a little kitchenette devoid of any real comforts. There are a few cardboard boxes but that's it.

The landlord’s final words echo in your ears as he departs “The movers finished just this afternoon, and everything is ready for ya. Your down payment has already been covered for the first two months but after that you’ll need to start paying again. Have a good night!” You watch him leave, feeling a bittersweet mix of relief and isolation as you begin to claim this new space as your temporary sanctuary.

Alone now, you wander through the apartment with tentative hope. You explore every room the cramped bedroom, the simple bathroom, the kitchen with its sparse cupboards gathering the few essentials left in cardboard boxes, clothes, toiletries, bedding, and a few meager kitchen supplies. Putting everything away felt like chore that sucked more energy out of you than 

You gather your thoughts and head to the bathroom for a warm, comforting shower. The water cascades over you, washing away some of the immediate shock, yet the water on your skin feels like reminders of the harsh reality you face. You let the water drown out the cacophony of your racing heart, even as the heavy question looms in your mind. What will happen to you?

｡⋆｡˚ ʚɞ ˚｡⋆｡

[cybsoo2]

temptation

01. neverland is not a dream

╰┈➤ synopsis — Shipwrecked, you find yourself stranded on a strange island. After searching the shores, you stumble across a rather annoying boy. He leads you to safety and you start to question what future, fate will bestow upon you.

╰┈➤ pairing — yandere!faerie!txt x reader

╰┈➤ word count — 4.3k

╰┈➤ content warning — slight angst

ੈ✩‧₊˚ note ; AAHH I’M SO EXCITED BUT SCARED TO POST THIS!!hopefully the taglist works cuz its my first time using one. also pls don’t be shy to interact or ask any questions. i luv to hear yall yap •ᴗ•

The salty sea is unfamiliar to your tongue. The waves that wash over you kiss your lips with every swell. The ocean breathes in shallow breaths that turn the tide. You’re swallowed under a sudden wave when you finally decide to open your eyes. 

Your cheek is pressed up against a cool surface. You reach out to run your fingers through the soft sand; digging your hand in deeper to ground yourself. Dehydration has left you dizzy. You lick your lips to get rid of dryness; spitting out the bits of sand that stick to your tongue.

You turn on your back to gauge your surroundings. A bright light blinds you and you bring up your hand to shield your eyes. The warm rays slip past your fingertips. You drop your arm back down once your eyes begin to settle in the sunlight. The void is filled with a bright blue. Millions of miles of nothing but the sapphire shade. The sea and sky battle against each other, two shades morphing into one. No ships sailing, no birds fluttering, you’re entirely alone in this vast expanse of nothingness.

You turn to the side, pieces of your past shipwreck are spread out across the shore. You reach out to touch the destruction. Discarded and decaying, all symbols of safety are ruined. Your breath begins to grow heavy. This realization rests like a 20 pound weight on your chest. You sit up slightly, leaning back on your elbows. Whipping your head around you, you can see that the beach goes on for miles. It stretches out across the horizon and wraps around the curves of the island. Sand, trees, and wreckage are all that you can see. 

You stand up fast, fighting off the feeling of lightheadedness. You swallow down the sandpaper sensation in your throat. 

“Hello!” Your voice tears into your throat. “Is anyone there?! Hello!” Your brittle voice breaks down against its misuse, but you continue screaming into the silence. While you shout at the seashore, you begin to search the beach for any stragglers from the wreck. Desperate eyes scour the empty shore as your cries are carried out to sea. 

You continue to search for what feels like hours until hope holds out its hand and shows you what seems to be… footprints? 

Small markings are dug into the sand and you sprint ahead to take a look. The tracks start in the sand and stretch out into the treeline. You walk alongside them, matching each step with your own. The footprints draw you further into the unknown forest. The woods welcome you. Shifting and reshaping its terrain to form a faint path. It pulls you in before you can think twice. 

Too naive to understand and too distraught to care, you turn a blind eye to your surroundings. Unbeknownst to you, magic flows through the forest. Running like roots through the entire island. It’s intertwined with the trees, dispersed in the air, and familiar to any lifeform that calls this island home. 

While you may not understand what is still unknown, you can feel a power that pulses in the air. An aura that you can’t quite put a name to, but can recognize its strength and ecstasy. It makes a faint humming noise that rings in your ears and hovers with every step you take. It’s not a nuisance like one would assume, rather a relaxant that washes away your worries. 

This feeling feels familiar, as is everything else that meets your eye. Nothing has any resemblance to reality. Everything is warped into a perfect, pink, picture. In your hazy recollection, it reminds you of a drifting dream. The place where sorrow and anger are absent. It’s a child’s paradise filled with fairies, mermaids, monsters, and all things interesting. A sacred sanctuary reserved for the fallen youth. Yet, it’s a wonder how you wound up here. An island lost at sea, never mapped and only known to those who spend their lives searching for it. Perhaps, the devil needed a shiny new thing to toy with. And who is he to resist a sweet thing so pure. 

You’ve followed your fantasies to temptation. Lured out by someone else’s lucky streak. The gates left unguarded to a new and interesting enigma. But when what you believe to be a dream starts morphing into a realm of reality, why would you want to leave? Even when you realize that the roots run red with dark desires and a sinful touch, would you even be able to escape?

A rustling in the bushes causes you to look up from your feet. You gain a feeling of unease and stop to hold your breath. The trees seem to taunt you, dropping leaves on your head that make you jump out of your skin. The bushes shake with laughter and the birds twitter teasing remarks. 

You can feel yourself growing closer. A certain presence plays hide-and-seek in the shadows. A storm swims in your stomach, the tides turning and making you feel almost powerless; like prey being toyed with before the predator pounces. The sinking sensation drags you down, your feet feeling like lead and knees threatening to give in. But you push through the fear, determined to find a solution to this mess.

You follow the footsteps further into the forest. Twisting and turning leaving you dizzy with dread. The tracks even appear to do laps and loops around you. Have you gotten lost already? You stop to settle your doubt for only a second before continuing on the crooked path. You remain running, just trying to hold on to your sanity while the sun begins to set. Darkness is falling fast and you'd like to find some sort of shelter before the sky submits to the black abyss.

As the minutes morph into miles, the footprints seem to appear fainter. Almost as if the culprit is floating with softer steps. The footprints then stop completely in the middle of nowhere. Two prints pressed into the dirt drop off into thin air. Nobody stands before you, no noises are heard, you’re surrounded by nothing at all. You lean down to give the prints a closer look and-

“BOO!” A sudden shout sends you to the ground. A shocked scream leaves your lips as you turn around in terror. You look up from your spot, sprawled out on the forest floor to see what seems to be… a boy? His silhouette blocks the sun, hiding his face under a dark overcast. He peers down into your eyes. You’re only able to make out the smug smile that settles itself in the shadows. He gives a soft laugh before asking, “I scared you didn’t I?” There’s a playful tone to his words and while he stares down at you with a smile on his lips and a shine in his eyes, you sit in shock. All coherent words have run away from your mind, leaving you stranded in silence with a stranger.

The boy kneels down in front of you, holding himself up with his hands. Curiosity catches his heart and he moves to poke and prod at the pretty little thing that has fallen at his feet. He brings one hand up to start teasing at your hair. He toys with the loose locks and tugs at it when you attempt to back away. 

“Who are you?” You ask with hesitancy. The boy only continues to pull at your hair, ignoring your question. “You weren’t from the shipwreck were you? I would’ve remembered you.” The boy's attention seems to have been captured by your question.

“You would’ve remembered me? Do you really think I’m that handsome?” He says with a smirk. His hand has stopped still in your hair, now fully focused on observing your reaction.

“No, I just would’ve remembered someone annoying like you.” Although his attractiveness does grab your attention, your sudden irritation at his behavior is much more prominent. Smacking his hand away from your hair, you stand up from your spot on the ground and he’s quick to follow. A faint frown falls on his face. “Are you from here then? Do you know how to help me?” He seems to stare right through your questions, amused by your actions instead of concerned. “Do you know how I can get off the island?”

“Why would you want to leave? Have you looked around you?” He asks in confusion and stares at you like you're stupid.

You tilt your head from staring at him to look at the trees tinted pink. Blushing blossoms sprout from each branch while butterflies flutter around you. The sliver of sunshine that snakes through the treetops shines down on the forest floor. The light reflects off every shiny surface, producing glitter in the air. 

The boy drags you out of your heavenly haze once he takes two steps closer. He leans forward the slightest bit to be on eye level. 

“I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine.” His question comes off more demanding than you expected, leaving no room for disagreement. You nod your head to agree and he begins his interrogation. “You said you were in a shipwreck, what exactly do you mean?”

You spill your secrets into the silence. “I’d been traveling by ship for about a week before a storm hit, and well… we went under.” Your voice begins to break off. A shiver crawling down your spine at the recollection of the horrific incident. Water lines your weary eyes, but you blink back your tears before you can get caught up in your emotions. You rub at your eyes rather roughly, ignoring the boy’s intensive staring as you ask your question again. “There has to be some way to leave the island. Are there any boats? Any other survivors?” 

“There might be.” He stares straight into your skull. Almost as if he’s trying to search your thoughts with x-ray vision. Your agitation only seems to grow at his unclear answers. 

“Well, where are they? Can you take me to them?” Your voice grows frantic, clinging onto the frail piece of hope that there might be help for you. 

“What if I don’t want to tell you?” The strange boy seems to gain a sick sense of enjoyment watching you struggle. Your anger rises into your cheeks and a cherry blossom blush bleeds into your face. The boy has to hold back another taunt at the tip of his tongue. 

“What? Why not?!” 

“Why not? You ask too many questions, it’s starting to get on my nerves.” The boy rolls his eyes in irritation. He takes a step closer and you stare up at him through a shocked expression. Before you can yell out your annoyance and anger at his lack of sympathy, he shuts you up with some interesting information.

“And it doesn’t matter anyways, even if I wanted to help you, I wouldn’t be able to.” 

You ask your next question already dreading the answer, “And why’s that.”

“Because no one ever leaves.” He shrugs at the answer as if it’s a simple thing to say. As if he hasn’t broken any inkling of hope you still held dear to your heart. Your heartstrings snap apart and leave a searing pain that lingers. You gaze at the stranger in disbelief, unable to accept his confession. It’s only then that you realize you’ve started to cry when he reaches out to touch the teardrops. He pokes at the pink that lines your under eye, a pout of clumsy curiosity pulls at his lips. 

Beomgyu doesn’t understand how he hurt you, he just knows that he did. Teardrops and falling frowns are not something he’s familiar with, he’s only ever seen them in a man’s last moments. Which is why he can’t comprehend how such simple words can cut you clean. Your heart is like a fragile flower, the blossoming bud burrows deep inside your left breast. But everytime a tear rolls off your cheek, a petal drops dead. 

He’s never had to think twice about his actions. Always being so bold and brazen with his friends that just found him to be funny. But as your strange soul stands in front of him, a sliver of doubt festers under his skin. He tries to retract his answer, hoping that this time the tears will stop. 

“Maybe there might be a way for you to leave.” His mouth is moving before he can stop himself. Why is his heart reacting this way? He doesn’t want you to leave… but he doesn’t want to upset you anymore.

In an instant, that shining sliver of hope blooms back in your heart. “Really? How?” You wipe away your remaining tears. Looking down at the ground instead of his eyes, you try to hide your easy emotions. 

He hesitates for a moment, unsure if he should lie or tell the truth. He’s selfish and wants you all to himself, but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. The others would find out about you eventually and he’d just get into more trouble in the long run. One last look into your tear-struck eyes has him making up his mind. “One of my brothers knows a lot more about the island than I do, so I’d have to take you to him.”

“Then let’s go!” You start walking off into the forest. You don’t know where you’re going but you’re eager to reach a resolution as soon as possible. 

“You’re impatient aren’t you? And I hope you know that I can’t promise he’ll agree to let you leave.” Beomgyu scurries on after you, matching your fast pace and walking side by side. His eyes never drift far from your face. They always linger, looking at how unhidden your emotions are. He takes in the way your eyebrows are cinched in irritation, your eyes open wide with hope & hurt, and your lips that fall into a frown at his words. 

“Why not?” You stop walking and turn to look at him. “ Look, I promise I don’t want to cause any trouble. But whether you like it or not, I’m stuck here. I bet you that I want to leave this place more than you wish I was gone, but I need help in order to do that.” Desperation is laced deep into your voice. It borders on begging and for some reason Beomgyu finds himself slightly disturbed by your distress. Your serious tone makes him squirm and an uncomfortable sensation swims in his stomach. 

“You didn’t have to take it so seriously,” He lets out a light laugh, trying to take down some of the tension. “I’m just saying that he’ll probably want to make sure you aren’t dangerous is all. Which I bet you aren’t, I could never imagine someone like you being a pirate.” As if he’s trying to rub salt in the wound, he pokes at your chubby cheeks. Trying to get the message across that you couldn’t be less intimidating if you tried.

You shy away from the boy, turning your head to the side to get rid of his touch. You’re beginning to grow tired of his annoying advances. Immature and uncaring are all you see him as. Really, he’s just a boy. He’s about your age but it’s clear he’s been sheltered from the cruel chaos of the world. Hidden away to live an easy life on this island. But then again, perhaps you’re speaking too soon.

The snap of a twig brings you both out of the silence. Your heads shoot up in the direction of the noise. Only when you’ve been given the chance to look do you realize how fast night has fallen. The shadows swallow you whole. A cloak of darkness covers the sky, drowning out the ashes of the sun. The trees are tangled into one another, twisting and intertwining to create a confusing thicket. The black branches hold hands to ensure that you can not escape.

In a sudden flash of fear, you turn to Beomgyu for a solution. But the once bold boy now appears much more bashful than before. What were once witty comments and playful remarks have been transformed into a stolen silence. It’s so unlike Beomgyu to be without words, but suddenly, he finds himself fearful of what hides behind the trees. After all, when he’s alone with his own emotions, he’s just all bark and no bite.

You take a step back from the bushes, your hand brushing against Beomgyu’s as you come closer. He seems to have the same idea as he follows your footsteps. Further away from the sudden sound and farther into the forest. 

“What was that?” You whisper. 

“I don’t know.” He states simply.

You turn to look at him with a glare, “Aren’t you the one that lives on the island? Shouldn’t you know what animals come out after dark.” Your anger is quick to rise again. You really couldn’t be more unlucky, getting shipwrecked and stuck with the one boy that’s incapable of helping you. 

Beomgyu doesn’t respond, instead he stares at the eyes in the dark. The irises are opposites, one shines like a star, filled with intrigue. While the other burns with an angry intensity, fueled by malice. The glowing eyes grow bigger as the creature comes closer. Silent footsteps travel fast and just before it jumps out of the bushes, you and Beomgyu break into a sprint.

You both run from the creature that crawls at night. It’s an imaginary monster that only exists in this eternal paradise: A Beast bound in blood from its last meal. An animal that runs rampant, blind with a burning rage. A corpse that decays in the dark, a poor past soul who didn’t survive. 

These terrible thoughts run awry in your head. Torturing you with images of mangled monsters and other unknown that hunt at twilight. Tears of terror threaten to fall from your eyes, but you blink them back before Beomgyu can notice. 

The smell of smoke burns through your throat. Taking in lungfuls has you coughing and struggling to catch your breath. Rotten rage is running right behind you. It grows closer, and closer, until all you can think about is the consequences of getting caught. 

A tug to your wrist trips you up and tears you from your thoughts. Beomgyu pulls you up to run side by side. He holds your hand like you might leave him if he lets go.

“Are all humans this slow?” He speaks with exasperation. The subtle slip of unknown information leaves his lips before he can think twice.

“I’m going as fast as I can!” Your outburst of anger and panic is yelled at the top of your lungs. Your legs begin to burn, screaming at you to stop, but this chase will not stop until one of you has won. Either you outsmart the beast by hiding away, or die by being devoured. That thought is more than enough to keep you going. 

Occasionally, Beomgyu steals a quick glance to his side. He can see the tears slipping past your fearless facade. Too embarrassed to admit you’re terrified to the arrogant boy and his relentless insults. Your hand is clasped tight in his. Beomgyu sees how you tremble and watches the tears that fall. A growing bit of guilt begins to settle in his stomach. He had been such a fool. Taking his time to toy with you when he knew nighttime was near. Although Beomgyu shares everything between his brothers, he’s not eager to share your sweet affections. He found you first so he believes he has some sort of entitlement over you. A pretty little plaything that is his to have. Beomgyu has always been reckless when it comes to expressing his emotions. The selfish sin makes him act stupid, and his fatal flaw might be the death of you. 

As you run, fear follows after you. It’s hot on your heels and threatens to tear you apart. The beast is just behind you. You can feel its breath on the back of your neck. Your speed is no match for the monster. Beomgyu must be thinking the same thing, because he sweeps you away to somewhere safe. 

His hands wrap around your hips roughly. No reason to be gentle in this time of distress. You’re shoved to the ground and dragged to a hidden hole in the dirt. Tree roots tangle around both your bodies. They provide protection and safety while the animal continues its hunt from up above. You can hear it sniffing at the surface, searching for where their fallen food ran off to. At the sound of it growing near, you cling closer to one another. Beomgyu pushes himself flush to the tree trunk behind him while pulling you closer to his chest. His heartbeat is erratic. Blood flowing like fear right through him. You can feel the rapid rhythm beating against your back.  

His breathing is barely there. Too scared to suck in a single breath. You’re the exact opposite. Chest raising high with each heavy inhale. You’re beginning to hyperventilate. With your heart clenched tight in terror you’ve begun to lose your mind to emotion. A hand slowly slides over your mouth and for a second you freeze in fear. But it’s just Beomgyu trying to quiet your quick breathing. You turn to look at him. Your vision is blurred by the tears in your eyes but you can still make out the emotion on his face.

Beomgyu tries to hide his fear, he really does, but it slices at his skin until his heart begins to bleed out. His eyes sting with salty tears, they gather at his waterline and threaten to fall down his cherry cheeks. He’s an imitation of you, stuffing away the sadness and trying to hide his emotions. For the first time in a long time, a little bit of fear festers deep in his heart. He never meant to wander so far away from the others, but he got distracted by such a pretty little thing. He was so selfish, trying to steal you away before the others could find you, and now you both sit in an agonizing silence. Inches away from the Reaper’s wrath. 

Truthfully, you don’t have any idea as to what type of animal is chasing you. You just know that it’s a bloodthirsty brute that’s hunting you down to hollow you out and eat your insides. 

Fear is festering in your mind. Your imagination makes up memories of your worst fears. Putting together the pieces to create a bloodcurdling creature. You imagine the unknown monster to have fangs pierced with flesh and rotting red remains. It has bones that are broken free from its ribcage, resulting in the rattling sound it makes with every inhale. Each breath it takes feels closer than the last. They ring in your ears and you swear you can feel it breathing right over your shoulder. 

Ruthless rage is torn from its throat as it lets out a growl in anguish; disappointed it let its prey fall too far. You can hear the sound of its claws digging into the wood just above your head. After its fit of anger, the monster runs off in what you can assume is a search for more meat. You can see its tail end as it trails off deeper into the dark forest. It has a fluffy tail that flicks in irritation. A slight hint as to what monster lurks on this lonely island. The only monster to ever make Beomgyu truly afraid. 

You’re both too scared to make a move at first. You sit still and listen as the monster runs farther and farther off into the forest. After a few minutes, the only sound you can hear is the whistling wind and your heavy breathing. 

But you both manage to bite down your fear and stand up from the dirt. Your head whips around to look at your surroundings, still paranoid that the monster may be somewhere near. With hands still held between you, Beomgyu leads you both down a path in the forest. The trail looks run down, years of footsteps trampling the flowers and grass that grows. You two take your time. You let your legs rest and catch your breath by walking slow. Your heartbeat is now in harmony with the rest of your body, no longer racing with adrenaline. 

Each slow step you take feels heavier than the last. Fatigue is finally catching up to you. The amount of physical and emotional whiplash you’ve experienced today has deeply drained you. You’re too tired to talk or form a single thought, and slowly sleep begins to burden you. But before you can collapse and sleep through a thousand sunsets, a blinding light burns your eyes. 

Four silhouettes stand in front of the sun. That sun being the little bit of light held in their hands. Torches are used to scare off the shadows and drive away the animosities. It also carves out the shadows of each boy’s features. Forever young and flawless faces are all that meets the eye. Their aura demands your attention and you wouldn’t dare to look away. 

Are these the boys Beomgyu had mentioned earlier? If they are, will they welcome you with open arms or turn their backs on the outcast. A wave of unease rolls around in your stomach as the shortest boy steps forward. His big eyes are hidden behind a glare. Your heart burns hot under the heat of his gaze. Chest stinging and speech stolen, you start to shrink in on yourself. The boy breaks through the crowd and closes the distance. Now that there is nothing between you and his icy eyes, you wish you had been killed by the beast.

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[journeythroughtarot]

Walking your Path - Are you on the right path?

With so many things that could go wrong, we can often become restless at the thought of where we are going and if we have chosen the right path. It is important to remember that no path is the wrong path, as all parts of our journey are here to teach us something about ourselves and the world around us. But we can often become stuck on our journey or find ourselves going backwards, and sometimes we realise the choice we made is no longer serving us. Our uncertainty can also be our biggest obstacle, so if you are wondering if you are on the right path, this pick a pile is for you.

Pile 1 | Pile 2 | Pile 3

Remember to take what resonates with you and be understanding that the messages from these cards can be applied to all walks of life.

Pile 1

Your search for destiny

Destiny, Air 8, Air 12 - The Scribe

For this pile, there is one thing that is standing out amongst everything else and that is pride. Pride of who you think you are and pride of where you think you are on your current journey. You use your intelligence and vast understanding to further your knowledge of your current path, but you may do so to an extent of always staying on top of where you are instead of enjoying the present moment for what it is. I get this image of always trying to stay ahead, to control, to achieve and fix. These things make you feel better about yourself but they are actually standing in the way of your destiny. Destiny is not manufactured by careful planning and staying ahead of the lessons that are served to you. Destiny is fallen upon, guided towards you, and shown to you through the darkness. Squinting your eyes will not enable you to see it more. This may be a hard lesson for many who pick this pile as letting go and trusting the path that is served to you can be a difficult task. Learn to let go of your pride and acknowledge that you too will be in places of vulnerability and ignorance. Mistakes will be made, but they will not make you any less of a person. You have built these walls around you to stop you from feeling the pain and self-judgement that could await you if you acknowledged your hand in these mistakes. You are careful in your search for knowledge and self-development because you may have felt the fringes of these emotions in the past. Intellectualising your past and your feelings will not enable you to understand the heart of everything you have learned.

Trying to see if you are on the right path may be something you find yourself doing. Learn to let go and to trust all that the universe will show you. Barriers can only be broken if you allow yourself to walk into the unknown with the understanding that you have right now instead of the understanding you wish to have in the future.

Pile 2

Your need for order

Perception, Air 4, Thought

Your perception of where you are in your journey is being obscured by your thoughts and what you are allowing to take your focus. As you walk your path, your awareness and focus of what is playing out around you is being limited by negative thinking. I get this image of being pulled in multiple directions, by routines and timings, deadlines and tasks, making sure you get things done in the right way in the right time in the right order. Your focus on negative thinking - self-doubts, expectations, pressures, self-judgements, just to name a few - is pulling you away from what matters most. You may be always trying to harness productivity to make it work for you, but instead find yourself coming across obstacles. The path doesn't look right enough for you and you may have expectations of what it should look like. Your perception of yourself, your achievements, and your progress is being clouded by these thoughts, taking you away from the reality of your journey. This ideal of what you want your life to be like is only taking you further away from yourself. Striving for perfection in everything ignores the beauty of life and the work that goes into taking one step at a time. The fear of failure will only make you see failure in everything you do.

You may be looking for the right path, something glorious, productive, and easy going, but it ignores everything that is right in front of you. Life is much more than just sailing highs, it is also full of mistakes, grief, and pain. And these do not make the highs any less worthy or precious.

Pile 3

Your desire for safety

Queen of Earth, Water 6, The Maiden

You are aiming high for the life you want, aspiring towards the space you want to create for yourself, the beauty you want to cultivate, and the experiences you wish to manifest. You may have already dreamt about the abundance this life will give you and what it looks like in all its glory. What you may not have seen is that you are at the early stages of this journey, learning one step at a time and slowly taking all this abundant joy from creative vision into reality. You are on the path to independence and maturity, discovering everything that life can show you. What you need to remember is that you are not at the end of this journey. The joy of this is that there is much to learn, so enjoy the journey. You may be guarded over this vision, of this space, wanting to protect it from anything that might tear it down. Know that any intrusion will teach you something about yourself and the world around you, and some may end up changing your journey for the better. Something you need to remember along this path is to show yourself empathy and kindness, and perhaps this will enable you to do the same for others when it is needed. Grow your self-esteem and sense of self-worth like a seed that needs careful attention. Make a home for your vulnerabilities that is abundant in compassion and unconditional love. All the better to help you protect your space.

You are on your chosen path, but remember that there is much to learn and see before you reach your destination. Life will come in small steps with chances to grow, change, and develop your inner self.