#and then test it by fighting it in a world

[vanitythevantropist]

OOOOO I like this one :DDD

Imma go with this one👇 (His name is Quill btw)

1. Chris McLain (or howver tf you spell it) from Total Drama the original series :3

2. Canonically, he’s best friends with an alien cat named Spine who is a fire dancer! Working out the kinks on how they met so👉👈

3. Ermmmmmm… Immortals by Fall Out Boy

4. He does not have a love interest, he’s too swag for that

5. See above

6. He is a gunsmith canonically so prolly that👀

7. If he was in a fantasy setting, he’d be some guy who is WAAYY too confident in the world full of giants and dwarves n shit

8. His main hobbies - besides making guns cuz it’s his job - would be dress making, actually :3 He’s very into cross dressing and likes tailoring his own stuff, along with doing traditional at for the funsies and going scrapping (looking for scraps in the junk yard)

9. He takes very good care of himself as he wants to look pretty 24/7 and succeeds better than most people

10. He’s very very bad at it :) Just pretends everything’s fine and covers it all with humour because he has issues

11. He was originally a side character in a Mandelorian ripoff story I made when I was 14 but he overshadowed the mc of that story cuz he’s just like that lmao (Idk what directly inspired him tho)

12. Yesh, I have done sum roleplays with a friend! Their OC is named Junko and they get along well cuz they’re so similar

13. To be determined

14. See above (there are so few characters in this story cuz Quill is my world and my soul)

15. He’ll die before he ever retires (he refuses)

16. He was created in a test tube so that may be a little complicated :)

17. He would not have children as he ain’t that kinda guy but I imagine he would be the fun but kinda forgetful parents who lets their children wield guns (one’s average american, basically)

18. He goes by he/him :3

19. He is aro/ace! His main love language is physical touch (friendly hugs n kisses for the homies)

20. GUNS GUNS GUNS

21. To be determined (it might be Anything You Can Do with basically anyone tho)

22. In rough situations, FIGHT. Lover or a fighter? Imma go with ‘it’s conplicated’

23. Abso-fuckin-lutely! Feeling sad? This man will be there in under five minutes with snacks and a nice warm blankey for you in case you’re sad, as well as all the necessary tools to fix your tire!

24. He isn’t a musical guy

25. Yes absolutely he does it most of the time👀 Walkin down the street, running sum errands, in the middle of a battle, whatever, it’s singin time

26. Errmmmm… I have no idea, what do you think?

27. In spirit, a fox. In appearance, ehhh-

28. Oh my god I need to ask you if I should tag you in this cuz this is such a good idea (high school clique? He’d be the guy whose strangely popular with everyone despite hanging with the weird kids)

29. GUG, see question above !!

30. Quill is very glad that someone wants to be his friend :3 Most people do not

Anyways, ty forthis, it was fun <3 Now y’all have sum lore✨ Have fun~

Fuck it, OC brain rot won. Get ready for the Secret Ask List

1) Does your OC have a voice claim, if so who?

2) Who's your OCs best friend? How did they become best friends?

3) What song describes your OC?

4) What song describes your OC and their partner/love interest?

5) Do you ship your OC with a Canon character? If so who?

6) If your OC is in a fantasy setting, what profession would they be in the modern day?

7) Vice-Versa! If your OC is in the modern day, what fantasy class would they be? Would they be a different race?

8) What hobbies does your OC have? What do they do to unwind?

9) How does your OC handle their physical health? Do they take care of themselves?

10) How does your OC handle their mental health? Do they take care of themselves?

11) What was your inspiration for your OC?

12) Does your OC interact with other people's OC? If so, who's their best OC friend?

13) Does your OC have a rival? How did it start?

14) Who's a character your OC cannot stand! It's on sight when they see them!

15) Will your OC ever retire? Do you see them making it?

16) How's their relationship with their parents? Are they alive?

17) If your OC has kids, are they a good parent? Do they ever feel guilty if they have to leave them?

18) What are their pronouns? What would they like to be called?

19) What's their sexuality? What's their love language both giving and receiving?

20) If they fight, what's their weapon of choice?

21) What song best describes their relationship with their enemy?

22) Fight or Flight? Are they a lover or a fighter?

23) Is your OC reliable? Can I call them up at two in the morning if I have a flat tire?

24) Can they play any instruments? If so, what do they play?

25) Are they the kind of person who can't resist a good song? Can I catch your OC singing to themselves while they do the dishes?

26) What flower do you associate your OC with?

27) What's their spirit tamagotchi? Or an animal you associate them with?

28) What clique would they be in? (Draw them in the clothes of said group!)

29) Imagine a mood board for your OC! What's on it? (Make it if you want!)

30) My OC and your OC are friends. This isn't a question. I'm not asking. (How do they respond?)

[reasonsforhope]

"Pills that prevent Alzheimer’s disease or blunt its effects are on the horizon, as the fight against dementia enters a “new era”, experts have said.

Scientific advances were on the cusp of producing medicines that could be used even in the most remote and under-resourced parts of the world, thereby “democratising” care, said Jeff Cummings, professor of brain science and health at the University of Nevada.

An estimated 50 million people live with dementia globally, more than two-thirds of them in low- and middle-income countries.

In 2024, the first drugs that can change the course of Alzheimer’s disease entered the market. Eisai and Biogen’s lecanemab and Eli Lilly’s donanemab were approved by medicine watchdogs in many western countries, including the UK and US.

“I’m just so excited about this,” said Cummings. “We are truly in a new era. We have opened the door to understanding and manipulating the biology of Alzheimer’s disease for the benefit of our patients.”

Cummings conceded that high prices, complicated administration techniques and requirements for advanced technology to monitor patients meant that those newly approved drugs were “not going to be made widely available in the world”.

Neither is yet available on the NHS in the UK because of the high cost – about £20,000 to £25,000 a year for each patient. They require additional tests and scans that would probably double that figure.

But Cummings said they offered evidence of how to target dementia and “this learning is going to open the door to new therapies of many types, and those drugs can be exported around the world”. There are currently 127 drugs in trials for Alzheimer’s disease.

Lecanemab and donanemab – which prompt the body to remove amyloid plaque in the brain – slow decline by about 30%, said Cummings, who works with a number of pharmaceutical companies on trials and drug development...

Meanwhile, trial results suggest the new drugs could instead be delivered by injection beneath the skin, opening the door for at-home administration by a nurse or caregiver.

“Ultimately, we want oral medications, some pills that can be taken once a day,” said Cummings, speaking alongside Paola Barbarino, chief executive of Alzheimer’s Disease International (ADI) after the organisation’s end-of-year forecast event.

Tablet forms of semaglutide – better known as Ozempic, an injectable drug for diabetes that is used off-label for weight-loss – are already in trials for Alzheimer’s and results are expected in late 2025. Cummings, who is chairing those trials, said there was plausible reason to think the drug would be effective by reducing inflammation, which was “a fundamental part of the illness”.

He called for more involvement of low- and middle-income countries in clinical trials, in order to boost knowledge of how the drugs work among different populations and to increase scientific capacity and knowledge of dementia in those places.

Could there be a cure for Alzheimer’s? That was “difficult”, Cummings said. But, he added, “We know enough about manipulating the biology and how it starts that we can, I think, within my lifetime – maybe a little bit longer, because I’m not young – we can control the processes that start the illness, and therefore it simply wouldn’t develop in the brain.”

Experts believe 40% of Alzheimer’s cases could already be prevented by targeting key risk factors, such as smoking, drinking alcohol and air pollution.

Prices would need to come down for low- and middle-income countries to “even think” of affording drugs that can change the course of Alzheimer’s disease, Barbarino said.

Attitudes would also need to change, she said, adding: “When I speak to health ministries in some poorer countries, they tell me they don’t have dementia in their country, which of course, is not true.”"

-via The Guardian, January 8, 2025

[whippedstrawberrycream]

After too many near-death experiences, Robotnik stops trying to take over the world and settles with Stone in Green Hills, in a Sonic Boom like scenario i.e. he gets to test out his drones in battle while also providing enrichment for Team Sonic. Robotnik flys in his EggMobile while Stone takes the ground in his modified motorcycle.

Tom relunctantly allows it but sets some ground rules (no fighting in town, no battles after dark). The unspoken rule is that no-one snitches out anyone to GUN, and this more than anything seems to keep the peace.

Some weekends, Stone visits the Wachowski’s residence to join Maddie in practicing yoga or Maddie drops by the lair and they chat about their respective spouses over coffee.

[evil-fact-checker]

Your entire argument hinges on the idea that 1984 and Animal Farm are invalid because Orwell was a reactionary, as if literature can only have value if it conforms to your ideological purity tests. It’s a childish way to engage with political thought. Orwell’s personal failings—real or exaggerated—don’t erase the accuracy of his observations on authoritarianism, propaganda, and control. But that’s inconvenient for you because acknowledging that would mean admitting that non-Marxist critiques of power can be valid.

You also insist that fascism is purely about imperial decline and economic interests, dismissing all other elements as irrelevant. It’s not. Power maintains itself through cultural, psychological, and bureaucratic means, not just economic ones. Pretending otherwise is just as ahistorical as the liberal narratives you claim to despise.

And your ‘labor aristocracy’ accusations are just empty jargon. You don’t know anything about the people you’re talking to, but it’s easier to imagine yourself as the sole enlightened revolutionary than to engage with reality. If you actually want to fight fascism, maybe spend less time policing what books people are allowed to take seriously and more time understanding how control and repression actually function in the world.

i have a folder in my computer called "just in case" where i have important documents saved, like the constitution (since trump REMOVED IT from whitehouse.gov) and books that might get banned

im obviously going to add more, if anyone has any reccomendations please let me know. just wanted to share because i think its a good idea going into these next 4+ years.

EDIT i've also added a clip of elon doing the nazi salute because its taken down a lot of places and likely will be removed everywhere. as well as screenshots of what happened when you searched "presidents in order" (it did not show biden) and "president from 2020-2024" (it showed trump) but have since been fixed

[short-honey-badger]

How would you think yandere shamrock would react to a s/o trying to fight back or run away

Warnings! Gaslighting, non-con elements ahead!

Shamrock Masterlist -> HERE

Shamrock finds it amusing that you think you can try to run from him. He would pretend not to notice the obvious signs of your escape, would allow you to get all the way out of the household even, watching from afar as your shoulders slumped in relief, thinking that you were free. Only to dash those hopes away when he appeared at your side, silent as a ghost.

The holy knight would sigh, a look of disappointment etched on his face, head tilted to the side and arms crossed over his chest. Shamrock would relish in your look of dismay, the tears of terror that would well up in your eyes. You should have known better than to think you could get away from your dear lover.

"Not trying to run away from me, are you, Darling? I thought you loved me? Have I treated you so poorly that you would rather face the world alone than be by my side?"

Shamrock would escort you back to the household, marching you through the front door with a patient look upon his face. Your walk of shame would be seen by all, a warning to you that even if he hadn't seen you leave, everyone here was loyal to the Figarland name, and they would have told him where you'd gone to.

He would march you all the way back to your shared room, locking the door behind the two of you. Shamrock would curl his hand over your shoulder, fingers digging into your soft flesh as he sits you down on the bed before kneeling in front of you. While he was amused at your attempt of escape, he was still furious with you all the same for even trying.

"Why can't you understand that you are mine, my love. I have given you everything you could ever desire, and still, you try and run away from me. Do I need to show you how much I adore you?"

Despite his words, you knew that the next couple of hours would be nothing but punishment for you. Shamrock would strip you down, hands impatient and greedy, before he would lash you to the bed, keeping you there as he teased you to the edge for hours. Your mind would be a wreak, body wound tight as you begged for release that Shamrock wouldn't grant you.

Shamrock needed to remind you that only he was the one allowed to touch you like this. Only he was the one to bring you such torturous pleasure, and how dare you try and leave him when you knew that he could never let you go.

"How could you try and leave me, darling. You know that I love you, that I adore you every waking moment of the day. You are safe here, away from the rest of the filthy world, so answer me, why do you try and run?"

He would demand an answer from you, urging you with soft touches from his gloved hands, fingers pressing into your flesh with a harshness that he couldn't control. Shamrock wanted to know just why you continued to test him and would not stop his pressing demands until you uttered an answer he deemed good enough.

Only then, when you whined that you just wanted to his attention, that he would allow you to come. Mouth pressed close to your own as he drank in each soft sound of pleasure you made for him. He would apologize quietly, voice a condescending coo that eached in your ear.

"Oh darling, I'm sorry that I've not paid you enough attention. You are my world, you know that. I'll do better this time. That way, you won't ever think about leaving me again. Won't you like that, my love?"

@mit-suri @sanjisleggy @nocturnalrorobin @mfreedomstuff

[chez-cinnamon]

YO UR ZOMBIE FIGHT CLUB LOOKS FIRE 🤩🤩🤩 (could we maybe get sm lore :3?) (adore ur art as always 💥🫶)

EEE THANK UUU !! And sure !! :D

Zombie Fight Club is set in a technologically advanced alternate Earth where a zombie outbreak is caused thanks to a new and highly dangerous steroid that was given to athletes and back alley fight clubs in order to improve their performance. A couple years later, while the rich live their lives peacefully in large domes protected from the hoards, the rest live in modified cities and towns to stay out of harm's way. A common pastime for these people is the leagues of Zombie Fight Clubs that have opened up - pit fighting between zombies and humans with mechanical enhancements and weapons. A world full of bets, deaths and illegal procedures in an effort to reach the top and maybe make it to the big leagues in the domes.

However a new and intriguing occurrence is taking place; a surge of mutated zombies have risen up in numbers, likely a mutation from the steroid itself. While stronger, larger and faster, possessing unique powers, they also seem to be more aware of their situation unlike regular zombies. They can feel pain, communicate and show emotion. Due to this they have been referred to as "Half Dead".

The story focuses on a group within a collective of survivors and fight club members alike. The first is a young woman named Mattie - stoic, to the point and stubborn, she's a mechanical natural who works at the city's fight club as mechanic. Having lost her father to a surprise attack, she views all undead with disgust and rage, taking pleasure seeing them getting their heads beaten in.

But her views start to change upon the introduction of the second character: a massive muscular Half Dead that she captures to test enhancements on her. Due to her mocking her about living a more "lavish" life in a cage unlike other undead, she was given the ironic name "Princess". Like Mattie she is jaded and grumpy, lashing out and only being cooperative in hopes to be fed good quality meat.

I'll probably make a better intro post for them and the other characters so I hope this is satisfactory !!

[forgetme-eternally-blissfully]

Choi Han, for a test from a god, is sent to an unknown land with "Cale."

Choi Han, upon arrival, realizes something is strange about this Cale. He's got a similar appearance to his own Cale but the eyes are sharper, with a witty bite to his tongue and a quick sneer always at the ready.

He's clearly confused and distressed about being in a strange place with a strange person but he does his best to not let it show. His hand reaches for a bottle of alcohol that isn't there.

Choi Han thinks that this Cale isn't like his Cale at all.

Choi Han has a hunch that this Cale is the one from before Kim Rok Soo's possession. It makes sense. So he isn't his Cale.

However, though Choi Han wants to become cold to this stranger version of Cale, when he looks into those red-brown eyes and sees fear, he draws back. It's an instinctual feeling that he gets, right as Cale is spitting more vile words to cover up the trembling in his hands, that he doesn't want to see even a terrible Cale be afraid of him.

This doesn't stop them from arguing. Through towns, forests, deserts, they both learn on an intimate level that they would never, ever get along. Cale is too loud, too threatening, and Choi Han can't resist from debating with this strange Cale about morals, of all things. They argue constantly.

Though they argue, Choi Han can't help himself from sometimes mistaking this Cale for his own. He tells himself it's because they look alike.

They're both in the midst of an argument when a noble-like individual approaches them with cloying words, which seek to lure them inside of the noble's home. Choi Han is suspicious, but before he has the chance to decline, Cale steps in front of Choi Han and demands to speak to the noble who wants to see them.

The noble-like individual turns out to be the servant of a more powerful man, something that Cale saw through immediately.

Choi Han is stunned.

How did this, this trashy Cale with no moral upstanding, clock the intentions of a person so quickly and accurately?

He asks him directly. Cale shrugs. Choi Han believes he's mistaken when Cale's eyes flicker with calculating intent. They don't discuss it further.

Little moments like these keep occurring. Cale does something impressive, Choi Han inquires, and Cale downplays it with a sneer or an insult and refuses to speak about it again. It's weird and strange but it's familiar. Extremely so. Not the insulting, and the sneer is too odd to be his own Cale's face, but it's familiar in the sense that they both underestimate themselves. They both refuse to acknowledge what lies under the surface of their visage.

This Cale is a strange individual. He swears and laughs and grins, he's too calm about their situation, and it's difficult to get through to him when he makes up his mind about something. But the strangest thing is that all of these things remind Choi Han of his Cale.

Finally, it all comes down to a final battle. One more fight and both himself and this Cale can go back to where they belong. Choi Han is ready.

Cale receives a power from a book before the battle and it's unlike anything Choi Han has ever seen. But the coughing up of blood makes him have Cale swear to never use it. Cale swears.

Choi Han makes Cale promise to stay on the sideline and not approach. Cale easily agrees.

They get to the last stage, the last time they'll see each other again, and the villain of this world is too powerful. It's as if he weren't meant for them to fight. It's as if he were made so that they struggle.

Choi Han swings his blade to block a blow that he knows he can't block, knows might end him, and he thinks about how he can't possibly die right now and leave this Cale behind... but he's too weak.

He wonders what his Cale would do in this moment, when everything seems hopeless and nothing is working.

Cale steps in front of him and uses his power to its fullest extent.

White light is shining everywhere, blinding Choi Han who keeps his burning eyes open, desperately keeps his eyes on the Cale that's bleeding from his mouth and his nose and his eyes and his skin is starting to crack, crack like he is about to turn into dust and disappear.

Cale turns to look at Choi Han.

"Ah. I was worried it wouldn't be enough to take out the villain." His eyes stained with blood curl up in a smile. A ball of dread sits in Choi Han's stomach. "I'm glad. I'm really, really..." eyes drifting closed, his body begins to shatter further and further. "Happy for you, Choi Han."

This is why they felt familiar.

It's with a cry of grief and anger, anger at himself, that Choi Han reaches out to hold Cale, hold onto even a piece of him.

Cale's eye, the only one left as he is disintegrating, widens.

Choi Han grasps a fragment that's about to vanish from Cale's chest, somewhere next to his heart, and this piece doesn't break, doesn't disappear from Choi Han's hand. It stays solid and firm and real-

And it's all that Choi Han is left with when the gods test ends.

Choi Han wakes up, surrounded by his family, with a red, glass marble in his hand. He holds it to his chest. It hurts.

It hurts.

[beautifulterriblequeen]

The way TDP looks at violence is so interesting to me, because in this world you can be violent and pure of heart, at the same time. Both Terry and Amaya have been proven to be so. And not just by other people's opinions - by primal magic itself.

Pharos used his Sun Staff to judge Amaya's character. It was a cruel test, but she passed it - after having killed multiple Sunfire elves onscreen in her conflict with Xadia.

Terry killed Ibis in a love-motivated defense of Claudia, but the magical map to the Garden of Innocence still let him view it. The act of violence - of deliberately taking a life - is not what makes a person dark-hearted.

Considering the themes in the show, with all its conflict and battle and fighting and loss, it only makes sense from a cohesive magic/worldbuilding system that primal magic sees violence as a morally neutral act, separate from its motivations.

And I find that delightfully fascinating and honestly freeing.

It's even adds some really interesting context to Runaan's work as an assassin, and Rayla's defense of him when she says "it's a job." In BH, Runaan says he kills people, but he doesn't judge them. His methods may be just as questionable as anyone else's, but his heart is in the right place like everyone else's too.

Seems primal magic believes that counts for something. I could chew on this forever.

"Terry is pure of heart, it is what allows him to see the map"

Ibis from the afterlife. A.K.A the guy he murdered:

[johnnylandslide]

Febhyurary 1: Hello World

"That was a blast! So, same time next week?"

Of all the bosses the WoL fights for fun/as a test of skill and then accidentally kills at the end, Omega was the one I regretted the most. I like to imagine that in Johnny's canon, Omega was left alive, they continue "collecting combat data", and develop an odd sort of friendship.

[prushka92]

DFAOG AU (Don't forget about our goal) general info!

I've made some lil concrpts for the AU! I hope you will enjoy it✨ I only made Shuanshuan, Yi and 2 ocs for this properly by now but i will fo more surely! Like i really wanna finish Kuafu (if you have ideas lemme know!). But talking about AU itself...

But talking about the plot or something i already have some things.

Yi returned to Penglai along with Shuanshuan, the apemen and Kuafu to keep on searching for the antidote to Tianhou. In this version, Shuanshuan has no clones (as some theories say), he is in the middle child in the normal ending. Despite his young age, he helps Yi in working with the medicine, as he had previously studied with him.

Yi also continues to kill apemen in order to maintain the functionality of the biological supercomputer for soulscapes. The apemen believe in the gods, in the 9 Sols, living a lie, being isolated from the outside world as well. Yi rarely selects the apemen kids he likes who are intelligent and inquisitive, and teaches them, becoming their mentor. When Shuanshuan grows up, it is he who is already engaged in teaching the "chosen ones."

Kuafu helps Yi in finding a cure for Tianhou, and also replaces him when he leaves for soulscape for 5 years. Yi and Kuafu sleep for 5 years, and then they work for the same amount, replacing each other in order to continue working and support the rest of lifes on the New Kunlun.

Goumang is also here, but her fate is not so bright tho. She survived after Yi's fight with her and when they returned to Penglai Yi offered fer team working, Goumang agreed. However after not so much time she became the Yi's test subject. They just were not meant working together because of events in the game. As a result, she became quite apathetic, considering Yi to be just a crazy maniac. In her eyes, he's just a madman, obsessed with the idea of healing and saving everyone, even though there's no hope of salvation anymore. Goumang can be said to be coming to Tao, as she has already accepted her fate, realizing the deplorability of the whole situation. Her small joy is Shuanshuan and a student Huanhe whom Goumang taught biology and agronomy for a while before turning out to be a lab rat. The children visit her periodically to feed and talk to her.

In addition to Shuanshuan's help Yi with his work, he continues to explore the completely new world of Penglai and the culture of solarians. Yi teaches him martial arts (Shuanshuan has no plans to use these skills for their intended purpose), science and history. Shuan's training is assisted by Abacus Ruyi, which Yi restored after arriving at Penglai. He devotes the boy more to art, and when Yi leaves for soulscape, he takes over almost entirely the training, as well as conducts the tests prescribed by Yi for the antidote and research, helping in the development of a cure for the virus. Kuafu spends most of his waking years maintaining the New Kunlun and looking after Shuanshuan, also giving him knowledge, but this time in the field of engineering.

Over time, Shuanshuan began to wonder: "Is there even a cure?"Are our efforts in finding a solution not in vain?" "How right is it to exploit my people in order to save them?" and many others. On the basis of these questions, he began to develop and take root a different worldview, and later learns from Abacus Ruyi about the philosophy of Tao and becomes imbued with it.

How many students does Yi have in total?

Four: two boys and two girls, including Shuanshuan himself, and he is the oldest of them. If we list them by seniority, it turns out like this: Shuanshuan, Huanhe, Heiluyan, Zhujin.

What happened to Shennong?

Unfortunately, he died in a fight with Eigong when she broke into the pavillon of the Seasons.

How does Yi relate to the rest of his students?

He basically values them as much as Shuanshuan, although it's a little difficult to say that he perceives them as his family. But he does get involved in their education and upbringing, given that these are orphaned children whose parents died in a slaughterhouse or for some other reason.

Will they find a cure?

Unfortunately, there is no cure for Tianhou in this au. It would just ruin everything really, so no matter how cruel it sounds, the dozens of years they spend searching for it will be in vain.

Does the new Abacus Ruyi remember the events that took place in the game itself?

Yes and no. He'll just know what happened from the stories of Yi, Kuafu, and Shuanshuan, but the new Ruyi is just as sentimental as his predecessor.

In fact, in this universe, Yi also comes to the Tao, just like in the game, only much longer, which, in fact, I would like to see! I wish Yi had more interactions with Shuanshuan and Kuafu, because I didn't have enough of that in the game (not because the game couldn't handle it, but just because I love that kind of thing)

I will add more info by time! I really hope you all like it :]

[fushigurokogane]

❤️️🖤 Blood Moon ❤️️🖤vampire!megumi x reader

The night air was cold, crisp with the scent of rain as you made your way through the quiet streets. The autumn wind rustled the dead leaves, sending them spiraling across the pavement. You tugged your jacket tighter around yourself, hurrying your pace.

You had always gone out on late night walks, but tonight, something felt...off. Like someone was watching you.

And then, you saw him.

Leaning against the wrought-iron fence of the park, bathed in the dim glow of the streetlights, was Megumi Fushiguro. His black hair fell messily over his sharp features, his pale skin almost ghostly against the darkness. His gaze flickered to you, sharp and piercing—eyes glowing a haunting shade of red.

“Megumi?” you called hesitantly, stopping a few feet away.

He didn’t answer at first. His head tilted slightly, as if he were listening to something you couldn’t hear. Then, in the blink of an eye, he was right in front of you.

You gasped, stumbling back. “What the hell—?!”

His expression didn’t change, but there was something...hungry in the way he looked at you. Not just hunger, but longing. Conflict.

“You shouldn’t be out this late,” he said, voice quieter than usual.

You swallowed, your heartbeat hammering in your ears. “And you shouldn’t be creeping up on people.”

A faint smirk tugged at his lips, but it faded quickly. He exhaled through his nose, glancing away as if trying to compose himself. That’s when you saw it the fangs.

Your breath hitched. The world around you seemed to still.

“…Megumi,” you whispered.

His jaw tightened. He looked away, his hands curling into fists. “I didn’t want you to find out like this.”

Your mind raced. This wasn’t possible. It shouldn’t be possible. But standing before you was proof of the impossible—his unnatural stillness, the way he moved too fast, those sharp canines that caught the light just right.

“You’re—”

“I’m a vampire.” He cut you off, his voice flat, as if saying it out loud made it easier. But there was something else in his tone. Regret. Fear. A warning.

You should have been afraid. You should have run.

But you didn’t.

“…Since when?” you asked instead, your voice steadier than you expected.

His eyes flickered to yours, searching for something—fear, disgust, rejection. Instead, he found none.

“A while now,” he admitted. “I’ve kept my distance. From you. From everyone.”

Now it made sense. The late-night disappearances. The way he always kept to the shadows, avoided sunlight. How he never seemed to eat around you anymore.

“You didn’t have to,” you said softly.

He scoffed, but there was no humor in it. “I did. You don’t know what I could do to you.”

You took a step closer, testing the waters. His entire body tensed, as if restraining himself.

“I trust you,” you said.

His eyes darkened. “You shouldn’t.”

Silence stretched between you, heavy and charged. His breathing was shallow—or maybe he wasn’t breathing at all.

Then, his hand lifted. Slowly, hesitantly, his fingers brushed against your pulse point. You knew what he was thinking, what he was fighting.

And yet, you weren’t afraid.

“You’re still you,” you murmured, your fingers wrapping around his. “You still protect people. You still care.”

His grip tightened for a brief moment, like he was anchoring himself.

“You make it sound so simple,” he muttered.

“Maybe it is.”

He let out a quiet laugh, something almost human in it. But his smile faded as he looked at you again, his gaze lingering on your lips—then your throat.

“You should go home,” he said finally, voice barely above a whisper.

You hesitated, then nodded. But before you turned to leave, you reached up and brushed your fingers against his cheek. Cold. But familiar.

“Goodnight, Megumi.”

You walked away, leaving him standing there in the shadows. Watching. Waiting.

Hunger burned in his throat, but something deeper, something far more dangerous, burned in his chest.

Because he wasn’t just thirsty.

He was falling.

OH MA GAWD!!! i really <3 this concept of "vampire!megumi" SO MUCH. i might even make this into a series! If you guys like it PLEASE let me know if I should make a part 2! Anyway, I love you all and I hope you have a great rest of your day!! BAI BAIII~! love, ✭ Nika ✭

[marylight098]

꧁Blossoming Love ꧂

Summary: It was a normal day for you: tending the garden... painting... taking care of your aunt... being the healer of your village... amongst other things. That's until you find a dying kitsune close to your village pleading for your help; in a world where mythical creatures marginalized humans and humans tried their best to live hidden from them all. But you weren't just going to leave him there to die (even if you were full of fear). As always... empathy was one of the biggest weaknesses a human could have. And sadly you were one of those humans.

Rating: 🔞 mature bruh

Couple💕: Jeon Jungkook/Reader

Tags/Warnings 🚨🗯️: Fluff and Smut, Spit Kink, Hybrid Jeon Jungkook, Kitsune, Fantasy, alternate universe, Light Masochism, Dirty Talk, romantic, Animal Instincts, Past Lives, Oral Sex, Loss of Virginity, healer of the town, human and kitsune, Painter Jeon Jungkook, Painting, draw me like one of your french girls lol, Fox, Masturbation, some choking, He loves the smell of your arousal, Creampie

Word count: 15,541

Side notes: i usually write about dreams I’ve had. This is one of them. And if you see typos or something similar… english is not my first language; sorry 🤡 Im just testing the waters here… i usually post only in Ao3…. Meh hope you dont hate it lol

Pic of JK by @jkxxth1 (tiktok)

🌸

Your hometown was small; it only consisted of a few houses and a small plaza where everybody gathered to do their activities or do festivals. All of you were part of the small percentage of humans who still resided in this world full of mythical creatures; looked down upon because of your “weak useless nature”.

But the majority of you didn't care much for the opinions of the other races. You all knew you were so much more than what they had stamped on your foreheads.

You smiled to yourself as you painted the mountains on your canvas, thinking how lucky you felt to be part of these people. But that was not the only reason you were smiling right now… you were also smiling because you could hear your aunt fighting in the background with one of your chickens because it had pooped on her balcony.

You were laughing now as your aunt kept arguing with the chicken as if she could understand her. She quickly noticed, giving you a glare. But even though she was trying to be intimidating at first, she ended up giving in with a smile.

“Don't laugh, _____. This is a serious situation.”

“Yes, auntie… it's very serious that one of our chickens shat on your balcony.” You nodded and continued laughing.

She shook her head with a sigh and a smile, accepting defeat. “Could you at least bring me a bucket of water to clean it? My ankle still hurts from the fall. You would do me a great —”

“Of course, auntie.” You cut her off, giving her a reassuring smile. “No need to explain yourself; I understand.”

“Thank you, darling.” She returned the smile.

“I'll make sure to watch over your painting so the chicken doesn't leave his… “signature” on it.” She said, side-eyeing the chicken.

You laughed once more before making your way to the village’s well.

Your aunt wasn't the type to ask for favors; she always believed in being independent and doing things for her own growth as a person, and of course so she could give her all to the family and dear friends. So on rare occasions like these, you and others close to her, were always glad to help and return all that love she had always given you throughout the years.

For you, she was a role model you aspired to be.

“Great… There is a spider on the edge of the well. And it’s a big one.” You sarcastically smiled as you kept your distance; your bucket now placed on the floor as your hands rested on your hips.

Your village was in an open area where there were no trees. But around it, a forest resided and so did the well of the village… and spiders. Which was one of your biggest fears.

You didn't want to kill it. You may be scared of them but you know they are part of nature and you have to learn to live with them.

You thought of using a stick to get it off but you knew that was just going to be chaos: not knowing where it was going to run to. And you certainly didn't want it crawling up your legs or arms.

A chill ran up your spine just at the thought.

So you just decided it was best to ask someone else for help.

Grabbing your bucket, you turned around to go back to the village.

“P- Ple -ease help m-me.”

You had only taken a few steps when you heard the pleads; the voice was not recognizable to you. It was a man’s…

With your heart almost popping out of your chest, you quickly turned around to be aware of where the man was just in case you needed to defend yourself. But…

You were faced with a pale weak man whose face was covered by a fox mask and hands were placed over a wound under his ribcage, which had and was noticeably bleeding.

“A kitsune…” you spoke under your breath.

How many hours had this man been bleeding? And why hadn't he been healed? But most importantly of all: what was he doing here alone? He was a kitsune… a mythical creature that was supposed to be with his kind right now; not here which was really far away. Was he running away from someone? Was this a hoax?

“Please. I-I’m not here to— hurt you.”

He had noticed your uncertainty and alertness.

You didn't want to believe him.. you really didn't. You were scared of what could happen and the dangers you could be putting your village in. But you could see the sincerity in his eyes that stood out through the mask. Plus he was bleeding to death, what more proof could you ask for?

Dropping your bucket once more, you hurried up to him, placing his arm around your shoulders and letting him lean on you. You were struggling obviously; you weren't as strong as a man. But you could get through. And, thankfully, the village wasn't far away.

“Than—argh!— Thank y-you, madam.” He grunted as he tried not to put so much weight on you.

“Don't force yourself to talk. And you don't have to thank me; it's immoral to leave a man to their death per se.”

Plus you don't have to address me formally either. You thought to yourself.

You could tell he wanted to say more but kept quiet.

As soon as you were back at the village, you immediately began to call for help. Only a few of them came to help since others were intimidated that he was a kitsune; it was understandable. Kitsunes were known for mischief, being playful and deceiving. But you knew that was not the main reason they were intimidating. It was mostly because of their high rank amongst you living creatures; they were known also for their riches alongside other mythical creatures.

One of the villagers saw you struggling with the injured man, so he rapidly went to his other side to help you carry him. Your aunt was also one to respond, quickly going inside your house to prepare the necessary materials to help with his wound before you got there. She also prepared the large table you had for these types of emergencies to lay him on.

“Do you need anything else, ____?” Your aunt pointed at the items she had placed for you to work with.

You shook your head. “No; it’s all I need; thank you.”

She left the room quickly with the man that had helped, knowing it would be more comfortable for you and him that way. But even so, she stayed close by just in case.

Your hands began working instantly; cleaning up the area first. There were a lot of questions in your mind and they all involved the kitsune. How exactly did he end up here? Who was following him? Who or what attacked him? Who was he?

But you reserved the questions for later; making him talk in this state wasn't a very bright idea. Right now you had to focus on patching him and making him feel less pain.

Surprisingly, he wasn't flinching as much as you thought he would be; this is definitely not his first time being injured like this. Only some low grunts and furrowed eyebrows could be seen and heard.

After cleaning up, you grabbed your well-known elixir that you used for wounds like these. Us humans didn't have magic nor any special abilities. But you did have the desire to innovate and progress.

“W-what is that?” He asked, still having some difficulty breathing.

You momentarily looked up to him, eyes more visible since you are closer now. You gulped, remembering what you were treating.

You felt intimidated for a second, remembering all those tales you had heard and moments you had seen with your own eyes where creatures like him would take advantage of your people.

He noticed.

“I a-al- mm- already said, I-I’m not going to h-hurt you.” He gulped with his eyes closed as he tolerated the pain.

“Trust me…” he opened his eyes to look at you. “I would never hurt you.” He reassured you.

And, again, you could see the sincerity through his eyes so you relaxed once more.

“This… this is an elixir I made using an old recipe my village has. It’s for curing wounds like you have. But I will have to add something else for this one.”

“Why?” He asked.

“Because I can tell this was made by another kitsune by the shape of it and because it doesn't want to close. A kitsune’s main weakness will always be their own kind.” You replied.

“How… do you k-know this?”

“Because I’m the healer of my town.” You smiled at him as you opened the other elixir. “And I've treated a few like you before.”

“Like… me?” He weakly pointed at himself.

“Yes. But those were already friends or family with the village people. We don't usually allow Kitsunes here… or any other kind of creature… you know… for safety reasons.” You nervously laughed; still trying to make peace with him as if he hadn't stated enough that he is not going to hurt you.

Again, he noticed the way your eyes immediately averted to his wounds after speaking. He didn't say anything this time; he knew he'd have to instead show through actions his words. He just remained in silence as you finished with his wound; not wanting to stare at you so much to not make you nervous… even though he wanted to; the reason why he would take occasional sneaky glances.

But he couldn't watch you finish, as he soon fell asleep from exhaustion.

.

.

.

Your people were quick to ask you questions in the morning, worried about the unknown kitsune at their village; except for the few mythical creatures that resided there, since they didn't feel the right to judge. And you explained to each one of them about the situation, trying to remain calm as you did to not freak them out even more. You, yourself, were also a bit worried. But you had decided to trust and have the faith that the kitsune wouldn't take advantage of your village. His sincere eyes still hadn’t left your mind; you knew they were real; you felt it. So it was better to trust your heart rather than your anxiety.

As you finished explaining to one of the villagers, your aunt called you from the balcony of your house.

“He’s awake. And he is asking for you.” She called.

You gave your goodbyes to the villager and went rapidly to your house.

“Thanks for letting me know, auntie.” You smiled as your hand reached the door handle, but it was stopped by another familiar hand.

“You sure you’ll be alright all by yourself?” She asked with concerned eyes.

“I'll be fine, auntie. I'm still going to be careful so don't worry.”

“Ok.” She nodded, still noticeably concerned but decided to trust your words, leaving the area. But letting someone know to be attentive just in case.

As you entered, you noticed him standing as he curiously inspected the medicines on your shelf, one hand pressing on the wound.

But that was not the only thing you noticed. There were scars… old deep scars on his back. As if he had received some sort of punishment. You let it go; it was not the time, place nor situation to ask something so personal. It was not like he was going to stay for long anyway; getting close to him was unnecessary.

“Well you healed quickly.” You spoke with a smile, coming closer to him. But not too close.

“And that is thanks to you and these… potions? Are you a witch?” He asked as his eyes now laid on you.

You chuckled. “No, I'm not a witch. I'm just a plain human with very intelligent ancestors who crafted all those medicines and I happened to perfect them.”

“That’s… incredible!”

There it was again: that sincerity.

You blushed. “Thank you umm…”

“Jungkook. Jeon Jungkook.”

He still had his mask on. You were so curious of what was underneath, but did not want to disrespect him so you remained silent.

“Can I check your wound?” You asked him.

“Y- yes, of course.” He replied as he snapped out of a trance. A trance you had put him on since he arrived there.

He was already shirtless so you were quick to get to the wound, removing its bandages first. As you did, you became really conscious of how close you were with this kitsune, feeling his breathing collide with your face occasionally. You were trying so hard not to touch him. But it was inevitable.

“Sorry if I'm being inappropriate.” You said nervously.

“No, not at all.”

“I don't mind.” He added.

You ignored his last comment, not wanting to think it had another meaning behind it.

He just said it casually, that’s all. You repeated in your mind.

After finishing checking his wound and adding more medicine, you patched him up once again with clean bandages.

“Ok so…” you clapped your hands together.

“Good news is, you have healed almost completely; which not only has to do with my medicines, but because you are a kitsune and kitsunes heal faster if treated properly.”

He nodded.

“Bad news is… you’ll have to stay a few days more to make sure it heals completely.” You added with a sympathetic look, knowing he probably wouldn't like the idea.

“But you don't have—“

“I'm ok with it.”

You didn't get to finish your sentence; he already had the answer as if he had been expecting your suggestion.

“Oh! Ok. Ummm… Jungkook, right?”

He nodded; sparkle in his eyes as excitement ran through his veins knowing he would get to wake up to your presence.

“You can keep resting on the couch; that will be your bed for now if you don't mind.”

“I don't.”

“Perfect then let me notify the village.”

You were about to leave when he stopped you.

“Wait! Can I come with you?” He asked.

“S-sure.” You replied, taken aback by his sudden request.

“Let me take this off first.” He added as he took off his mask.

Your lips fell apart, taking in the beauty the kitsune held as he laid the mask on the couch. It was true what the rumors said: kitsunes were born with undeniable and inexplicable beauty. But it was understandable since they were born to charm. They always got their way; it was rare to see a kitsune who wasn't able to seduce or charm their target; they had a gift.

“Don't wanna scare anyone more than they already are.” He nervously chuckled as his hand ruffled his hair.

Your curiosity had been fed. And you couldn't help but to become shy and self conscious. Being around an attractive person always makes you feel nervous.

“It’s— it's ok.” You struggled to speak for a second. “They will eventually warm up to you; we’ve had kitsunes before so don't worry so much.”

As he saw your reassuring smile, the kitsune wondered if the rumors he had heard about humans were true: that they secretly possessed the ability to enchant or seduce other creatures like himself. As time passed, more and more creatures of high rank were eloping with humans to the point where it was getting normal. Things were changing, but the hate and contempt against humans was still there. And all of you knew it was going to be hard for it to leave. But he didn't care about what other people thought; he saw all creatures as equals even if they were mortals. And right now, he was ready to risk it all for you.

You both went outside to greet the villagers; you being up front and Jungkook following behind like a puppy, trying his best to make people like him.

You introduced Jungkook to each one of the villagers, also explaining the situation and why he was going to stay a few days more. It was necessary and it was also common courtesy; it was a random stranger that had entered the village and the “cherry on the top” being that he was a kitsune. This way people could be alert for any weird movements from the kitsune.

Jungkook bowed multiple times to each one of the villagers with a “thank you” and “sorry for the inconvenience”. He had already conquered the hearts of many. Not only because of his cuteness but, of course, because of his beauty. You could tell some of your friends were already trying to flirt with him. And you just couldn't help but to shake your head at them. Of course, there were always the doubtful ones that still didn't trust him. But did not treat him badly either.

The two kitsunes we had were the quickest to bond with him, for obvious reasons.

“Nice to meet you, Jungkook. I’m Jimin and this is Hoseok.” Both bowed to him and Jungkook did the same. It was a common thing between their kind.

“Glad to see there is another kitsune as handsome as us staying here too.” Jimin said, making Hoseok roll his eyes.

“He is only staying here for a few days until he gets better.” You quickly intervened.

“Oh, ok.” Hoseok said, a little bit disappointed he wasn't staying; he could feel he wasn't a bad guy. But it was understandable to him and Jimin.

Jungkook’s expression changed as soon as you said those words and both of them saw right through their fellow kitsune. They both looked at each other, knowing all too well this situation: a kitsune falling for a human. They both had eloped with humans after all.

Well at least they hoped this was the case. They truly wanted you to be happy and being taken care of; both of them knew how devoted you were with your people. So they saw this as an opportunity for all that love to be returned to you.

After Jimin’s fanboying over Jungkook, you said your goodbyes to them and ended up in front of your house once again. But before you both entered, you remembered the painting you had left outside to dry. You needed to take it inside; chickens, pigeons and kids… they were all hazards to the painting.

“Oh! Give me a second.” You said to him.

The painting had turned out satisfying enough for you to showcase and you were proud. Even though you had some interruptions while trying to finish it… you were able to finish it on time.

Jungkook’s eyes followed you as you grabbed it and went inside the house, following behind.

“Were you the one to paint that?” He pointed, as you placed it on the table.

“Yes, I did.” You smiled, proceeding to cover up the painting with a blanket to protect it.

“Then teach me how to paint.”

You quickly turned to him, mouth falling open at his bold unexpected request.

“Pardon?”

“I want you to teach me how to paint, madam.” He said, taking a few steps closer to you.

“I… I’m no teacher, sir. And you are only staying for a couple of days.” You backed up a little.

“What if I wanted to stay longer?” His eyes sparkled.

Silence.

You had a lot of doubts at that moment. A random stranger had appeared out of nowhere and now he wanted to live there. And it's not like he seemed to not have money nor a home. You could tell that he was from a wealthy family because of his clothing.

“Why do you want to stay?” You asked.

“Just a hunch.”

“A hunch?” You repeated him, and he just nodded with a soft smile, showing one of his dimples.

Kitsunes were known to be very intuitive and spiritual, and you knew this very well. But you didn't think there was any purpose in him staying here when he clearly had it all. But you also knew that was a very ignorant thought. Still… why stay here?

A chuckle couldn't help but to escape your mouth at his absurd response. “You are a wealthy kitsune Jeon Jungkook, why would you want to stay here?”

“I may look like I don't, but I prefer simplicity over luxury.”

“And how can I trust you?”

“Give me a month and I'll prove to you and your village that I am worthy of staying here.”

You took a deep breath and exhaled, fear and worry crippling on you.

It wouldn't be fair to not give him an opportunity like the other kitsunes had. And besides… if he were to turn against you all… you not only had two kitsunes as your allies, but also a werewolf, a nymph and a fallen angel. It was a weird combination you had to admit, but a powerful one.

“I’ll talk to the village. But I do not guarantee anything.”

And his smile grew into an enthusiastic grin.

. . .

“I think we were wrong about him.” Your aunt said as you both sipped some chamomile tea on her balcony, watching the kitsune before you try to convince a kid it was time to go to bed after playing with him for hours. It was a funny sight indeed.

“It's only been a week, auntie. At least my trust isn't there yet.”

“Oh, come on. He has bonded with the village so well as if he had lived here for weeks already. People love him; he has helped with so many things.''

“I find it highly amusing how you were the most defensive about him staying here and now look at you.”

The kid had now started to run with Jungkook’s mask and he was now not only trying to get him to bed, but also trying to save his precious dignity.

You snorted out a laugh, making you cover your mouth with your hand, not being able to hold it in anymore.

“Don't come at me with that poop, darling. You like him too.”

“Poop? Seriously? And I do not like him, I only find him amusing.” You shook her head at her with a chuckle.

“You know I do not curse… and you do like him; just with the smile you're making at him right now… it says it all. Maybe… even more than a friend.” She sipped the tea right after.

You choked on your tea. “I do not— cough like him like— cough that.” Eyes watering.

She just shook her head at you knowingly; your reaction was enough for her. You weren't the type to get flustered easily. “Enough with the lying and go get me some apples so we can bake that big apple-pie for tomorrow’s showcase.”

“But I'm comfy right now.” You whined.

“And you are younger than me, so get going. Just ask Jungkook to accompany you like you always do when you are scared of finding spiders.”

“Hey! I can happily go alone.”

“Yeah, and the Earth is flat. Go on now, I'll be waiting inside.” She said, standing up and going inside as said with both of your teacups.

“Ugh!”

Reality was that you did want Jungkook to accompany you. Not only because of the spiders but because you actually liked his company as much as you hated to admit. He was funny, intelligent, caring, sensitive…

What the hell am I even thinking? Remember _____, he is a kitsune and they have the ability to charm; snap out of it.

Still, it wasn't that bad to indulge in those wants… right?

“Kai! Give him the mask back!” You scolded the child.

The kid immediately stopped running and stood straight as a stick, quickly handing the mask to Jungkook.

“Apologize and go to your mother’s house.”

“But I don't wanna go to sleep! The sun is still out.” The kid whined.

“It’s setting down already so you need to go get ready for bed; mother’s rules.”

The kid whined one last time, apologized and left for his house.

“Thanks for that. That was nice of you.” He cleared his throat. “… and hot.” That last part wasn't heard by you.

“Accompany me to the apple trees and we will call it even.”

“Scared of the spiders again?” Jungkook laughed.

You began mocking his laugh. “And do you wanna talk about how a kid took your mask and you couldn't get it back?

His laughter immediately toned down. “Hey! I almost had it in my hands again!”

“Yeah, right.” You started laughing again, remembering the scene.

“Have a nice time with the spiders then.” He smiled knowingly, turning his back at you as he began to walk away.

“Nooo!” You exclaimed at him, grabbing his arm.

You didn't see it. But he was smirking while he had his back turned to you. He liked knowing that you needed him. He wished you needed him more; In all types of ways.

Where the trees resided, wasn't so far away. But it did take a bit to get there. And since the night was starting to set in, you had a little more difficulty seeing even though you brought a lamp with you.

Jungkook on the other hand didn't have any problem with it since he could see at night, he was a fox after all. For that reason he didn't take his eyes off of you, worrying you might fall. But you didn't gladly. Even though he wanted an excuse to touch you.

There were already some lamps surrounding the trees and other crops since sometimes our people needed crops during the night for emergencies or just random hunger.

You quickly began to work using a ladder to lower the apples as Jungkook stayed on the ground waiting for you to throw him the apples so he could put them in the basket. At one point an apple fell on Jungkook’s head and you couldn't help but to laugh at him as he looked at you annoyed. But at the end he couldn't resist laughing too.

After you finished, you decided to take a break close to the nearby pond, drinking some water while you were at it. But Jungkook had other plans, he wanted to take revenge because of the apple on his head.

“Oh my god, _____! There is a big spider crawling on you!” He shouted.

You gasped. “What?! Where?!”

You quickly stood up trying to shake off whatever you had on you. But then you heard Jungkook laughing so loud, tears were forming in his eyes. And that's when it clicked.

“You ass—-” But your words got cut off as you tripped on a heavy branch and fell on your knees.

“Shit, _____. Are you ok?!” Jungkook’s laugh immediately stopped, quickly going towards you to help and check on you.

You sat on the ground and you raised your skirt up till you saw the knee that was hurting. And that's when both of you noticed you were bleeding.

“Fuck. I-I’m sorry, _____. Let me cure you.” he quickly grabbed your knee regretting ever scaring you like that.

Your anger had toned down; now you were more embarrassed than angry.

“I’ll cure myself at home, it’s ok.”

“That’s nonsense when I can just save you some pain by using my powers.”

“Powers?” You tilted your head to the side with a thoughtful look on your face, not remembering anything about kitsunes being able to heal. But, again, you only knew the basics.

“Here, I'll show you.” He said as he carefully straightened your leg for you to be more comfortable.

One of his hands went on top of your wound, being careful not to touch it, while his other hand rested on the backside of your knee. And a blue light began emerging from his hand to your wound.

“It will take a minute or two, so bear with me.” he said as he focused on your knee.

Gladly you didn't feel any pain. But the adrenaline from the scare and the fall began to dissipate and you were now conscious of where he was touching. You didn't want to think of it as anything else so talking was the best option to distract yourself from your body’s reaction.

“You know your little prank is going to cost you an art lesson, right?”

“Oh, come on. I’m healing you. I’m making up for my sin.”

“Pffft.” You laughed. “Don't say it like that, it wasn't that bad.”

“Well I am trying to convince you not to take an art lesson from our week.”

“I don't know why you want them so badly. You already know how to paint. Besides, you never pay attention to my lessons; you…always… stare at my face. I don't know why.” You chuckled nervously. Recalling all the moments he would drift his attention from his canvas to you, making you feel insecure. You kind of wanted an explanation of why he did that so maybe you would stop feeling so self conscious at your lessons.

His eyes lifted up to you for a moment, as if he wanted to say something, but went back to your knee. “I… still need work and you know it.”

“True.” You responded, feeling even more insecure since he didn't comment on the “staring”.

The atmosphere had turned serious and you could feel it, mainly from him. You felt a little bit awkward because of it.

“Done.” The blue light faded and the wound had disappeared; you were completely amazed by it.

“That is amazing. I didn't know kitsunes could do that.” You said, staring at your now healed wound.

But Jungkook didn't say anything back nor did he take his hand or eyes off of your knee; you noticed quickly.

“Jungkook?” You questioned him, nervous you had said something wrong.

His eyes were trailing now to your still covered thighs as his thumb caressed where the wound used to be. And you could feel your heartbeat starting to accelerate.

Your skirt was now being lifted up centimeter by centimeter, slowly and steadily; thigh becoming bare to him before your eyes.

A broken gasp came out of your lips as his hand went up, making him look up at you. Both of you know staring into each other's eyes. The coldness of the night being ignored by your lustful warm body. Your leg was now fully exposed to him to do as he pleased. He didn't stop looking at you as his hand went up and down your thigh with a firm grasp, teasing you; getting dangerously close to your slit with some strokes.

“You still don't get it, huh?”

His head lowered to your inner thigh and began sucking on the skin.

“Fuck…” You said under your breath.

This feeling was new to you; you had never been with a man despising occasional confessions. Yes you had touched yourself, but this was different. You felt your chest fill with an overwhelming lust and slit starting to ache.

After leaving a noticeable red spot, he began kissing the rest of your thigh, momentarily licking a stripe from your knee to your upper thigh and rubbing his forehead against it, ending with a soft bite. After doing so, his eyes returned to yours.

“I stare at you because I think you are beautiful.”

“Not only because of your body but because of who you are.”

“I want to be around you every minute of the day.”

His hand was now stagnant as it laid dangerously close to your slit once more. “Be mine, ______.”

Be mine. You repeated in your head. And that's when you snapped out of it. You remembered they had the gift to get anything they wanted and for you this was an attempt to do so. So you immediately pulled your leg off of his grasp, leaving him with a confused look.

“I-I can’t.” You shook your head scared.

“What?” his eyes were now full of preoccupation as he saw you stand up and walk away from him.

“_____! Wait!” He said as he stood up and grabbed the basket with apples. But you began running, not wanting him close to you as you were scared of him and yourself.

He also began to run towards you calling out to you. He could easily outrun you but he decided to not overwhelm you and just call you from afar.

You continued running despising his calls, eyes blurry from the tears, confused on what to feel or do. It felt like an eternity running, even though it wasn't. That's until you collided with another body, you were going to back away immediately thinking it was him again. But when you were about to run away, the body held you still forcing you to look up and that's when you calmed down a bit.

“____! Are you ok?!” Jimin asked worriedly.

“I… I don't know.”

As Jimin lifted his gaze up to see what you were running from, he saw Jungkook. He was going to confront him until he noticed he was equally as confused. So he decided it was best to leave it like that until he heard you talk.

“Let’s go to my house, Erika is there too so you can talk to us.”

Hearing one of your best friend’s name gave you another reason to calm down.

You nodded.

Before taking you to his house, he gave Jungkook one last look. And he could tell he was worried and at the same time scared. And that gave him the confirmation he needed to wait it out.

As soon as Erika saw you entering through the door, her expression changed.

“____, is everything ok? Did something happen?” she worried as she guided you to the living room’s sofa for you to sit and relax.

“Darling, please bring me a glass of water for her.” She told Jimin and he instantly went to the kitchen to prepare one.

“Please tell me what happened, _____. Don’t leave me worried like sometimes you do. Give me the opportunity to help you once in a while.” Erika said, hand resting on your shoulder.

She knew you very well, how sometimes you would hold onto things to not bother anyone.

Jimin returned with the glass of water and gave it to you.

You drank up a little bit before pondering over what to say. But in the end you concluded it was best to open up to them. One, because you didn't want them to think they were untrustworthy to you. And second, because your best friend was married to a kitsune. And what could be better than advice from a kitsune, himself, and his wife on this situation?

“Erika… Jimin… how– how do you know when a kitsune is mind controlling you?” A mixture of worry and shyness was evident on you, so your eyes stuck to the glass of water to hide them.

But silence was your response. And anxiety was quick to show up.

Is the situation worse than I thought? Did they already realize who I'm talking about? Did I offend Jimin and their relationship? Was I wrong?

Your mind was spiraling with questions. That’s until you decided to look up and face them. And instead of anger or worry, you were greeted with a Jimin who was trying his best to hold his laughter in. But in the end failed.

And all that could be heard was his laughter.

“Welp… prepared to be bullied for the rest of your life.” Erika said to you.

“What?” You were dumbfounded and confused. You just wanted him to finish laughing so you could finally hear his answer.

“Pfffft, it's that what you think we do?” He just continued laughing.

“Jimin, I'm serious. Please answer me.” You grew impatient.

He calmed himself down, whipping tears off of his face. “Fine, fine. I'll calm down now.”

He sat to the opposite side of you; now you were in between them.

“Look _____, I don't know from where you got that information but it's incorrect. Kitsunes do possess the ability to charm but it's because of their natural beauty and art of seduction. It comes natural to us. And it doesn't always work on everybody. Erika… She would be an example. Remember? She was a pain in the ass to conquer.” He rolled his eyes at her.

“What can I say? I just don't give up this piece of ass that easily.” She shrugged and Jimin just shook his head at her.

Red… you were completely red from embarrassment. All this time you were only listening to assumptions from other people and anxiety instead of doing actual research. Like for fuck’s sake you had two kitsunes as you friends. But you just felt embarrassed to ask. Even so, the result was the same: embarrassment. You had learned your lesson.

“Hey… does that mean you never trusted me and Hoseok?” His eyes went into shock mode. As he slowly realized that maybe you never even considered him or Hoseok a friend.

“N-n-no… w-well—-“

“I’m hurt right now.” Jimin said standing up with a pout that was more adorable than intimidating.

“Listen to me! It was only at the beginning but as I got to know you guys I began to trust you with time. And seeing how Erika and Delilah took time to be in a relationship with you guys, then I thought: hey, they are actually trustworthy; they didn't use their powers to make them fall in love.”

“Do you understand what I'm trying to say?” You added.

“Next time just ask us, please. I know us mythical creatures have a bad reputation among humans, but I can assure you, not all of us are snob assholes.” Jimin replied and you just nodded, not able to look him in the eye from the lingering embarrassment.

“Remember, we don't bite.” Jimin’s gaze landed on his wife: Erika. “Unless you want us too.” He winked.

“You are cringe.” Erika replied to his not so subtle innuendo, making you laugh for a moment.

“I agree." An unexpected, but all too familiar voice spoke. All eyes were now on one of the open windows that looked to the balcony where a Hoseok now stood resting his body on the edge of it.

“What the fuck? You were eavesdropping?!” Jimin exclaimed.

“Yes, but that's because I saw the whole thing and got worried.”

“Wait… who else saw what happened?” You quickly asked as embarrassment began to cripple on you once more. You only remember running until you collided with Jimin. But you didn't pay much attention to your surroundings.

“Who cares? What you should be worrying about is how you are going to repay me for defamation and violation of the friend code. Try making me noodles for a week and then maybe I'll forgive you.” Hoseok said.

“Oh! I want too!” Jimin added.

“You guys are asses.” Erika shook her head but then turned her attention to you while the two men planned on how to bother you for the next week.

You had gone into deep thought, analyzing yourself and trying to decipher your feelings towards him. If he wasn't “charming” you, then…

“Do you… do you like him, ____?” Erika read your mind.

Your best friend had deciphered the situation better than you; of course, she was your best friend after all. But…

“I don't know.” you responded as you got up.

“Thank you…for everything…I have to do something now. I’ll see you later! Thank you again!” you said as you rushed out of the door.

“Where are you going-?” You heard Jimin’s faint voice just before you closed the door behind you.

You didn't answer, you just wanted to get to your destination which was anywhere where Jungkook was right now. All you wanted was to apologize even though you still felt ashamed for your previous thoughts.

Your feelings were unsure. But you were sure about one thing: you wanted him to know you were sorry and that things were ok between the both of you.

How do I really feel? The question persisted in your head as you stopped half away, pondering on it, but your feet picked up speed again down the path.

No, I had to see him, I didn’t have a plan of action but I felt after seeing him it will make sense.

Nearby you saw your aunt with the basket of apples heading to her house, which meant Jungkook had been with her. So you immediately went to her and asked if she knew where he had headed, but she also didn't know.

She caught up quickly to the situation, asking you. “What happened between the both of you?”

“N-nothing.” You brushed off as you turned away and left to keep searching for him, ears blocking out your aunt's voice.

You went to your house and searched other parts of the village but he was nowhere to be found. Anxiety had started to creep in and cloud your mind with the possibility that he had left or something had happened to him.

Taking a deep breath in, you continued down the path to the nearby onsen the villagers sometimes visit but at this time most people would be in their homes, it was actually mainly you roaming this path tonight like a suspicious person. But you needed to take a break and calm yourself.

You pushed the bushes away from your face as you peaked at the back entrance of the onsen, the sight took your breath away and stopped your heart momentarily. The sun was setting, painting the sky with warm colors, the smoke from the onsen rising into the air and into the last rays of the sun, gold tinting the onsen and the shirtless man drying his damped hair after he had taken his bath. It was Jungkook, although there was no one else in sight he was wearing his kitsune mask; his hair was in a half up do and his bottom hair was still wet. His torso was still bare; he only had placed a towel around his neck as he gazed at the moon. You could sense the sadness, even though you couldn’t see his expression. He whistled a sad melody, the sight appeared almost like a kitsune crying out to the moon for it to come out.

The shame had returned, killing your determination and making you unsure if to approach him or just leave. But the universe had other plans. Because as the thoughts ran through your mind, something else ran over your hands from holding the bushes, and of course, it was a spider.

You immediately shrieked at the spider, rapidly moving your hand to shake it off. After successfully shaking it off, you noticed the whistling came to a halt and your eyes locked on Jungkook who was now staring your way, so much for stealth.

You needed his mask more than him, to hide from the embarrassment.

Trying not to show embarrassment and reveal your racing heart as you neared him around the onsen.

“...I’ve been looking for you.” You mumbled, not fully being able to look at him fully just yet.

“Are you ok, though?” He stood up and went to you, examining the hand where the unwanted visitor had been.

You nodded and he relaxed.

“It was a spider, wasn't it?”

“Yeah…” you chuckled nervously.

He laughed but his expression dimmed as he remembered. So he backed up and went to sit in one of the benches and took his mask off putting it to the side.

“You ran away from me, I didn't think you’d be looking for me.” He said quietly.

“I know...” You replied quietly too.

“You can sit if you want.” He offered.

You thanked him and sat next to him. Your eyes couldn't stop themselves as they slightly glanced at his body, you had seen it many times before but why was it suddenly making you feel this way, as if you shouldn’t look but also can’t look away. You watched one drop of water slowly making its way down from his chest to his abs.

“It’s pretty, isn't?” he said as he looked at the moon that glanced at you both and the now hidden sun. 

“Mhm…” Is all you replied as you secretly referred to his body.

“-about earlier..” He started, startling you out of your intrusive thoughts, making you blush even more.

“Ah..uh..um yes…” You stuttered.

There was a pause.

“I’m sorry.” You both spurted out at the same time. You looked at each other for a second until you both chuckled.

“You don't need to be sorry; I was the one who made you feel uncomfortable.” He smiled as he gazed at the water.

“You… you didn't make me feel uncomfortable. On the contrary… I…” You bit your lower lip as you blushed trying to finish the sentence.

“You liked it?” he finished for you; his eyes searching yours hopeful as yours shied away.

You nodded, staring at your fingers, not being able to look at him; taking advantage of the hair that fell on the side of your face so he couldn't see you blushing.

He bit his lower lip to keep his pleased smile from showing, gaze going to your legs, tempted to continue what he left unfinished earlier. But held himself back, not wanting to scare you again. So he looked away, taking a deep breath to compose himself as his grip on the edge of the bench tightened.

“I owe you an apology, Jungkook. I got scared because of ignorant beliefs.” You continued.

“Can I ask what those were?”

“I…I… thought you were hypnotizing me or…something.”

“Well that’s a compliment.” he smirked.

“Idiot.” you pushed him to the side playfully as he laughed. “I’m just happy I have other kitsunes in my life to explain stuff like this to me.”

“I’m also glad. Because if you didn't, I would've probably lost you after that.” he pushed the strand of hair that had been hiding you from him, behind your ear.

“No… I would've still come to you.” You chuckled. “You are too special to me to lose.”

Oh, how much he wanted to kiss you, but couldn't; not yet.

Your gaze then landed on his mask. “Why were you wearing your mask again? If I may ask?”

“I have a tendency to hide my face when I feel ashamed or angry.” He chuckles a little bit embarrassed. “I guess I use it to hide… my feelings and myself.” He said quietly.

You nodded in understanding; knowing the situation all too well; on your occasion, it was painting that helped you vent those emotions, turning them into something only you understood the entirety of.

“May I look at it?” You asked and he nodded, giving it to you.

You traced your fingers delicately on every feature of the mask; it was as beautiful as him.

“May I put it on?” You asked and he complied once again, never wanting to say no to you. But also because he was curious.

Placing the mask on your face you could smell his scent which made you very pleased.

You giggled. “I like it.” You looked at him, seeing he was smiling at you fondly and intrigued by you. Butterflies filled your stomach and thanked the mask for hiding your blush.

Not knowing how to deal with the emotions, you took off with the mask to tease him and avoid your feelings. “Now it’s mine!” You shouted as you giggled maliciously while running as fast as you can through the trees.

It took him a few seconds to react, not expecting at all what just happened. He wasn't surprised though, as he knew sometimes you could pass as a kitsune because of how naughty you were, especially with him and he liked that the most.

He followed behind you, not even caring to use his powers to outrun you as he was enjoying the chase and hearing you laugh.

But your running was brought to a halt as you encountered a nearby pond you had forgotten about and almost fell into it.

“Shit.” You cursed to yourself. You were about to take another route when a pair of arms grabbed you by the waist from behind abruptly, stopping you.

“Caught you! I won!” He exclaimed happily as he tried to take his mask back but you wouldn't let him.

All that could be heard was the sound of laughter as you both wrestled for the mask. At one point you lost balance and almost fell on your knees, but this time Jungkook softened the fall by holding you tightly, not wanting you to get hurt like last time.

You were about to stand up again but he went on top of you, trapping you.

The atmosphere had changed in a matter of seconds.

“I said… I won.” His voice turned suddenly low, his eyes turning lustful as they bore into you, loving the way you looked underneath him. “Now what do I get in return besides my mask, madam? Surely there must be more prizes for the winner… or does the winner get to choose? Because if so… the winner has a few things in mind already.” His eyes then went to your lips, casually licking his own.

You were flabbergasted by the situation and not in a bad way. Your eyes also went to his lips, but since you were shy, you took the mask and placed it on his face and gave him a kiss on what supposedly was his lips instead and chuckled afterwards oblivious to the tremendous effect it had on him.

“There… that was your—-“

Your mouth couldn't finish the sentence as his lips went for yours immediately after taking his mask off.

The kiss was heavenly for you. It was your first kiss so it was a little bit hard to keep with his needy experienced lips. But, even so, you found your way to reciprocate his kiss and feelings; it was something you wanted as much as he did.

You whimpered softly on his lips, making him stop and rest his forehead on yours with his eyes closed and eyebrows furrowed with his jaw clenched.

He took a deep breath and exhaled, relaxing himself. “You make me go insane, ______. You know that?”

Still on cloud 9 you just proceeded to caress his cheek and scalp. There was a brief moment of silence as he enjoyed your caresses.

“I have something for you, _____.” He broke the silence.

“And what would that be, sir Jungkook?” you playfully responded.

He laid beside you, facing you. Your eyes then went to his hand that was in a fist, blue light grabbing your attention as it went through the open spaces. Once the light vanished, his hand then opened, revealing a necklace with a little crystal jar as a pendant.

“What is that?” you asked.

“_____… I chose you as my mate.”

You sat up as soon as he said those words. You knew what that meant. It meant he couldn't be with anybody else after this, only you. Every tribe of kitsunes had their own ritual to choose a mate; you didn't know what his tribe’s ritual was but all you knew was that you were irritated by it. You never liked the idea of marrying an immortal to later leave alone to suffer for an eternity. It's not that you didn't agree with those types of relationships but it's just something you didn't want for yourself. You knew you were going to be constantly worrying about the future. Hence why you always admired Erika’s relationship by how fearless and in the moment they were.

“Jungkook, why would you do that?!”

“You already know the answer: because I fell for you, _____… and hard.” He sat up too, surprisingly calm to your reaction.

“Are you crazy?! I’m a mortal; I don't even last one century! You shouldn't have done that!” You were now standing.

Tears accumulated in your eyes, making your vision blurry. It was a reaction that even for you was unexpected; it made you realize how much you cared for him.

“What if I don't love you back, huh?! And what if I die tomorrow? What are you going to do then?!”

The tears were falling freely now. But they were interrupted by the pass of his caress.

“I already know the consequences, _____. And I don’t mind facing them.” He laid a kiss on your cheek, calming you.

“How… how are you not scared?” You hiccupped, wiping your tears away.

“Because my heart is where it belongs. And I knew from day one that you were my person; I could sense it as if… I had met you in another life; and I wasn't in the wrong.” He calmly assured you with a smile. “Now hold your hair up.”

You hesitated a bit but complied.

“This signifies my commitment to you; I want to marry you, _____.” Jungkook explained as he went behind you and placed the necklace on your neck.

“Jungkook, I don't think I'm there yet.” You shook your head and eyes began to water again; scared. But he continued clasping your necklace.

“The jar contains seven flowers. Each time you experience romantic love for me, one will bloom. Once the 7th has bloomed, that means you have fallen deeply in love with me and that’s when I'll marry you. In other words: I’ll wait for you.” He continued to clean your tears. “And even if they never bloom, and you want someone else… it will be ok. I’m not gonna lie to you, it will hurt.” He chuckled. “But knowing I'll still have you as a friend, would be enough for me.”

You couldn't understand how he was so sure after spending such a short period of time with you. You were scared for him; you didn't want him to live an unhappy life because of you and his decision.

But… At the same time, your heart couldn't resist feeling overjoyed at his words and the thought of spending the rest of your life with him.

Your hands then went to the pendant to examine it. It had flowers inside of it, seven different types of flowers about to bloom. You found it incredible how small they were; it was like a miniature garden inside of the jar.

“Can this be undone, the mate thing is only if i wear it, right?” You spoke more calmly now.

She is so cute. He thought to himself, chuckled and wrapped his arms around you, hugging tightly.

“You know... I have many things I love about you, but you worrying about us and our future, just drawns me even more." He smiled. " And no, it can't be undone because the necklace was made specifically for you; I've already committed to you to my creator: Inari.”

“Please ____, stop worrying. I've lived long enough to know that you are the only one for me. I’m going to be ok regardless; I just wanted you to know that my heart belongs to you.” He added.

You took a deep breath and exhaled, closing your eyes as your head rested on his chest; hearing his literal heart beat. You were overwhelmed and scared but you knew it was just anxiety talking. He was determined and you needed to remind yourself that he had lived centuries before you; that he had lived almost through every trial in life and that he was mature and wise enough to make this decision. You also reminded yourself that as long as you had each other, it was all going to be fine. And that living in the moment is what truly matters.

“Let’s go back before my aunt sends Jimin or Hoseok to find me; she knew something was off when I last talked to her.” You broke from his embrace. “…Or worse… Yoongi.”

“Who is Yoongi?” Jungkook asked, amused by your reaction to his name.

“He is a fallen angel and he is scary when he is mad.” You said as you walked the path back to the village, Jungkook followed behind.

“Why? He gets violent?” He asked, concerned.

“No! Not at all! He is just very strict. But let me tell you… he is very sweet under that hard shell he has and makes the best apple pie in the village… don’t tell my aunt I said that, please.” You said making him chuckle.

“Is it that good?” he asked, intertwining his hand with yours.

“Oh, yes! Wait till you try it! Yoongi has made it for me since I was little.” You squealed in excitement.

“Is that so?” he asked, intrigued but also in a trance with your beauty, like always.

And so the conversation continued to the village, without you realizing a flower had already bloomed: a Larch.

. . .

Everything was under a different light now. Every gesture, action and affectionate words were now felt differently. The feelings of love you neglected of him were now finally showing their colors, blossoming into something beautiful just like the flowers that rested on your neck.

Seven flowers… And one had already bloomed.

The second one, a Rumex, bloomed as his hand caressed your hair, both laying on your bed while he told you various stories from his childhood; one of them being how he had learned how to paint; and the others just showed you how naughty he was of a fox when a kid. All so you could fall asleep during the raging thunderstorm.

The third flower, a Spirea, bloomed when he told you how beautiful you were as you focused on your painting.

The fourth flower, a Buttercup, slowly bloomed as you both splashed each other with water in the nearby river and later on played hide and seek with the kids from your village; laughter and joy not seeming to cease.

The fifth flower, a Clematis, bloomed after reconciling on your first fight; making you understand that love isn't always perfect and that was ok. Because if the love is truthful, it is always bound to prevail over any circumstance or pride. That's what makes it so beautiful.

The sixth flower, a Sweershrub, bloomed when you saw him help an elder of the village to find and pick her favorite flowers for her balcony. Later on, bringing one for you too; one that he had found and had “thought of you” as he admired it.

The seventh flower… the last one… had bloomed as your hands cupped his cheeks and eyes went to his lips right after you had hugged him because he had finally shown you the painting he had been making; a painting where he had drawn you so beautifully as you concentrated on your own painting; it was so detailed and colorful, full of love… you just wanted to kiss him at that moment. But timidity overshadowed the courage to do so once again. And he himself had to restrict himself from kissing you as he knew very well that that kiss was just going to be fuel to the fire, and his body wasn't going to be able to be stopped from taking what it had been wanting. So he gently removed your hands and gave them soft kisses; apologizing before leaving you alone, wanting more from him; for him to love you.

“A tiger lily…” You stared at your reflection on the mirror of the vanity table, holding the pendant.

You sat there, amazed how all of them had bloomed so quickly. You also debated on when to tell him; for you it was a little bit embarrassing that your feelings were out there like that physically. For that reason you didn't always have it on your neck; sometimes it was in your pockets or as a bracelet. Although… he never paid much attention to it; he was more focused on just being with you. You did sometimes catch him looking but he would immediately look away. As if he reminded himself to not put pressure on you and just be happy that you were together even as friends.

There was a knock at the door, startling you since it was in the middle of the night. But then you remembered that Jungkook usually likes to sleep over. So you wrapped a blanket around you, not wanting your exposed skin to be seen, and went to the door to open it; revealing what you were already expecting: a smiling Jungkook with a pillow under his arm.

“I should start charging you for the overnight stays.” You joked as you walked towards the kitchen leaving him to close the door.

“But you won't because you like me being here.” He teased back as he entered, following you.

“Well maybe I don't; you always leave a mess on the couch.”

“But you enjoy my breakfasts so you won't kick me out. And I don't always leave a mess, madam.” He smiled.

You rolled your eyes playfully. “Not after the over-salted eggs you gave me last time.”

“Hey! It was an accident.” He immediately started tickling your belly as punishment, making you laugh hysterically. You tried to escape his grasp but he held you from behind to not let you escape.

“Jungkook stop! I’m going to pee myself.” You laughed as your eyes watered; he grew weak as he began laughing at your comment and you took the opportunity to escape, and in that attempt to push him off, your blanket fell off, leaving you only on your satin nightgown that exposed your breasts through the fabric while a strap fell off your shoulder, making it worse for you.

As soon as your skin came in contact with the cold breeze, you realized what had just happened and gasped, backing away a bit, lifting the nightgown strap back up. You quickly looked at him, embarrassed. And you saw how his eyes had just finished scanning your body, going from your perked up breasts to your face. You couldn't take any longer the insecurities so you went to grab the blanket to cover yourself up again. But as you pulled the piece of fabric, something interfered: Jungkook's foot, stepping on it.

You stepped back, letting the blanket fall, looking at him with an arm around your breasts as you tried to decipher what he was thinking.

If a needle were to fall, it would be heard; silence and tension was all there was. But not a bad kind of tension…

He walked to you, taking extra steps as you instinctively stepped back, colliding with the kitchen counter. Even though you wanted him, it was your first time and it was instinct to hide yourself.

He removed your arm that covered your breasts, exposing them to him again. You hesitated a bit.

“Let me see you.” He stated.

Your eyes were glued to his lustful gaze on your breasts; his eyebrows slightly furrowed as he tried to restrain himself.

Softly he grazed your neck moving to your collarbone… finally landing on your breast, grasping it firmly; and without warning, his mouth went to your bud and began savoring it, despising the fabric that was in between. Your gasp was followed by a moan and slight twitch of your body as pleasure was felt.

Hearing you moan made his movements more passionate and rough, switching between breasts. He wanted to see and hear more. His sucks were loud and licks were lewd; flicking your exposed nipples and nibbling on them occasionally; all while he massaged your breasts aggressively.

As your lips parted from pleasure, he took the opportunity to collide his mouth with yours as your lips looked too pretty like that to pass the invitation. His hand then traveled from your breast to your neck where the necklace resided. And as soon as his hand brushed the chain, that's when he remembered.

His jaw clenched as he forced himself to remove his lips from yours, It took him every ounce of self restraint to complete that task. But went through it successfully, making you whimper softly from frustration at the loss of his sweet sinful mouth.

He rested his forehead on yours with eyes closed and untamed breaths as he tried to control the animal inside of him that only wanted to claim you before anybody else could.

“It was a mistake for me to come here. And I should stop coming over; it's dangerous for me and for you; I apologize.” He states due to the fact that it was getting harder for him to hold himself back, before stepping away and going towards the door at a fast pace.

“The flowers bloomed, Jungkook.” You made him stop on his tracks.

You wanted this too.

“What?” He asked, not because he didn't understand you, but because he couldn't believe it for a moment.

“All the flowers bloomed… yesterday, the last one blossomed; I noticed it today.” You smiled, excited but nervous at the same time.

He went back to you and picked the pendant, seeing every flower grown and colorful.

He smiled and lightly chuckled, placing his forehead on yours and hands on the counter behind you trapping you, relieved he no longer had to hold himself together when he was around you.

His fingers now held your chin, making you look at him. “You don't know how fucking hard was it to hold back and not fuck you like you are meant to be fucked, _____.” He said so casually; eyes physically changing and a pair of fangs now visible.

You weren't surprised by his choice of words since you knew how they behaved when they were in heat or just needy; sadly you know about this because you had to hear your friend, Erika, talk to you about her and Jimin’s sex life occasionally; more specifically when she had an “amazing night”; you always had to shut her up mid speech before you puked. But at least it helped you get to know a little better how kitsunes worked, or any other hybrid that was part animal.

His eyes… You thought to yourself as their pupil was now slit. Just like a fox.

“Beautiful…” You thought out loud, boring into his eyes; finally being able to see part of his fox side.

And that was enough to send him off edge.

“This nightgown doesn't hold any sentimental value to you, correct?” He asked.

“No, why—“

You gasped as one of his now exposed claws had cut through the middle of the night gown, ripping off the rest with his hands and pushing off the straps from your shoulders and throwing the gown to a side. You were now fully exposed to him. To you, it felt so weird to be naked in front of a man and you also felt self conscious. But the man that was in front of you was one that you deeply loved and trusted your body with; you wanted to give him all of you and you were ready to face and overcome your insecurities with him.

Your arms went to your breasts, but he was quick to remove your arms and place them on your sides, whispering to your ear, “Stop doing that or I'll tie your arms.”

He began tracing his fingers slowly starting from your hip’s stretch marks to the curve of your waist, passing your aroused nipple (making you shiver); ending on your neck followed by grasping it.

“Beautiful.” He repeated your words. “Just like imagined.”

You blushed once more; asking yourself if he had touched himself to the thought of you; the thought alone made you even wetter and wanting to hear more of what he wanted to do to you. Oh, how dirty you felt.

So the words came out of your mouth intrusively, “What else do you imagine?”

He was also taken back by your sudden loss of shyness. But reality was that, you were still scared. Nevertheless, you wanted him even so.

“Do you really want to know, darling?” The grip on your neck tightened, playing with his prey.

“Ye-es.” You almost moaned, loving his hand over your neck.

His mouth attacked yours desperately, connecting your tongues. The hand that held your throat, now positioning your head for easier access; his other hand pushed your crotch towards his so he could grind himself on you and get some relief from his aching cock.

“Go to the couch.” He broke the kiss, his loud pants overshadowing yours.

He had so much control over you; you complied so quickly. Yet, what you didn't know was the amount of control you had over him. Not only because of the smell of your arousal or your naked body, but because of the way you looked at him as if you were high on him; it was driving him nuts. He wanted to be gentle with you… oh how he wanted to. But you just made it so difficult for him… always.

Your living room had two sofas on either side of your wooden coffee table; facing each other.

He followed behind, eye-fucking your ass. He also grabbed the nearest canvas and some paints and pencils, making you curious of what he was going to do.

You stood awkwardly in front of one, waiting for him to give you instructions.

“You do not get to be shy now after you asked me what I think of when I touch myself.” He softly chuckled.

“D-don’t be an ass.” You retorted; somehow enjoying that you could still tease each other even during sex.

He chuckled again. But his expression went back to the previous one: fox eyes full of raging lust. It was like two different people.

An easel was already in front of one of the sofas since you had decided this morning to paint an idea that had come to mind… so it made it easier for him.

He placed the canvas on the easel followed by the words, “Sit.” And you complied.

He was on the other couch facing you as he grabbed a pencil.

Is he… is he going to draw me naked? You thought to yourself, only to be answered afterwards as if he had heard you.

“You asked me what I thought when I touched myself… then I’m going to show you; don't know how much self control I'll have, though.” He said sincerely as he took out his cock out of his lower attire.

You loved the way it looked with cum already dripping from the tip.

“I’m going to paint you bare before me while I touch myself.” He said, already beginning to stroke his cock, breaths of air longer and broken. “And I don't want you touching yourself, do you understand?”

You nodded, rubbing your thighs together, needing some kind of friction.

“But you are going to spread your legs.”

This is going to be hard for me to not touch myself. You thought.

And slowly, and a bit embarrassed, you exposed to him your dripping cunt.

He swallowed hard, thinking to himself that this was going to be harder than he thought. But he still wanted to show you how fucked up you made him all the time. Plus he was enjoying the anticipation before he fucked you like he wanted to.

His other hand gripped hard on the pencil as he began to draw you. He began doing the basics of the painting… your face… the form of your body… and then began adding some details. But the truth is, the drawing was sloppy since he was enjoying more tracing your body with his own eyes; admiring it; memorizing it and plotting ways he was going to fuck you. All while he was stroking himself, squeezing his balls occasionally.

He looked so beautiful: eyebrows furrowed and mouth opened as he cursed and breathed heavily while giving himself pleasure. You wanted to touch yourself so badly…

“Spread the lips of your cunt for me.” He panted. “I wanna see your hole begging for my cock.”

For you that was even more torture since you just wanted to rub your clit or have him touch you or be inside you. But you did it anyway, making him hiss and grunt as his hips thrusted forward instinctively as he saw how it was pulsating from need.

“Fuck.” He clenched his jaw.

The painting was long gone, abandoned. And all that could be heard was the sound of his moans/grunts and hand stroking himself.

This was too much for you, seeing him like that… and your slit aching for him… your fingers just slipped inside you without you noticing as you looked at him touching himself to you.

“Jungkook...” You whimpered as you closed your eyes for a second, focusing on the feeling; your other hand now touching your breast.

The crash of the easel, canvas and pencil with the floor made you open your eyes again. Jungkook had pushed it to the floor and was now moving towards you.

He pushed your back to the couch and held your legs while he aligned himself on your entrance, spitting on his cock to use as additional lube.

“Jungk—-“ you were going to protest because he was going too fast but it was already too late. His cock was already inside of you, pounding you hard.

“Shit!” You yelped as your eyes watered from the sting.

“I wont be gentle, _____.” He grunted as he pounded into you. “But I’m going to make you feel good, I promise.”

It felt so different from your fingers for obvious reasons. There was a mixture of pain and pleasure and you didn't know how to react; you were confused. But one thing was for sure: you felt full and in ecstasy with him finally inside you. And you just wanted more even on uncomfortableness.

Had you just discovered you were a masochist? Probably.

One of your hands went to his and grabbed it, guiding it over your neck. You wanted him to hold you there; you liked the feeling.

“You keep playing with fire, _____. Do you want me to break you?!”

You nodded, too overwhelmed by lust and pleasure to speak.

He cursed.

Your arm was grabbed and in a matter of seconds you were flipped over. You were on your knees, forehead pressed to a cushion by his hand on your nape. This position allowed him to go faster.

Since you were looking down, he grabbed you by your hair and positioned your head sideways.

“Don't want to miss those pretty reactions you make while you take my cock.” You moaned at his words as he thrusted harshly into you, making you yelp.

“Touching yourself and then asking me to hold you by your neck? What a dirty virgin you are. You really don't want me to go easy on you, huh?” He added.

Every word he said, your body reacted to it. And he knew by the way you were squeezing in on him, which you could tell he loved by the way he cursed under his breath.

“Such a slut… my slut.” He commented; his hand never leaving your nape as he fucked you.

He then lowered himself on you, pushing you down to the sofa, your bodies now touching as he pounded you deep. His thrusts were now more paused but each thrust was harsh and loud.

“Feels so good.” You whimpered.

“I know, beautiful.” He whispered into your ear and licked a stripe of the shell and bit it softly.

You were drooling at this point; so focused on him, his sounds and touches. You also knew for sure that your ass was going to be bruised and red as fuck after this by how hard he had be fucking you. Not only were you probably weren't going to be able to stand up tomorrow, but also sit. You were fucked. But it was worth it to you.

“I’m close.” He grunted as he picked up the pace again, lifting your ass up again; both of his hands digging into your hips; more bruises you knew you were gonna have tomorrow.

You turned your head sideways to watch when he came. But you were also enjoying how his eyes never left your cunt as it took him so nicely.

“You were made for me, _____. Your pretty little tight cunt was made to take my cock.” He panted, high on you.

Suddenly, one of his harsh thrusts came with a sharp pain on your shoulder, extending to your neck; feeling drops of a warm liquid dripping from it; it was your blood. He had bitten you as he came inside you. You were now full of his cum, scent and with a mark claiming you as his.

It was so fast that it didn't give you time to react. But the pain was still there, he could see it on your face. So he licked the area to soothe you and clean it, giving your neck and shoulder kisses afterwards. He still didn't pull out.

“Mine finally.” He said burying his nose on your neck, smelling the mixture of your scent with his; he couldn't get enough of it. He couldn't get enough of the idea that you were all marked up by him; it was satisfying.

“You ok, love?” He asked, checking your wound to see if it stopped bleeding.

“Y-yes.” You replied, still surprised by the bite. You had forgotten when Erika had told you about the bite they give you when it's your first time together; it injects the pheromones into you; marking you as his not only by smell but physically.

“You haven't orgasmed yet, right?” He asked, still inside of you, laid on your back as his breathing returned to normal.

“No… sorry; I thought that was going to be enough.” You apologize, somehow feeling guilty that you didn't come during the intercourse. But again, you were new to this. You only knew some things because of Erika.

I should’ve listened more to her even if I puked afterwards. You thought.

“Love, why are you apologizing? That is perfectly normal; please don't force anything; just enjoy my touch.” He said, finally pulling out, pleased to see that you were filled to the brim with his cum.

You relaxed at his words but whimpered as he pulled out, missing feeling full.

“Turn around for me.”

You were facing him now as he hovered over you. He kissed you… lips now more gentle but full of passion; occasionally licking your lower lip.

His hand then slipped to your cum dripping cunt, playing with your folds before going down on you.

“W-wait! What are you doing?” You quickly questioned as his head was now between your legs; still insecure of your body.

But he ignored you.

“What a pretty sight.” He almost moaned seeing your hole still filled with his cum.

“I'll paint this next, what do you think?” He smirked at you and you blushed looking away.

His thumb circled your clit a bit before spitting on it, making it easier for him to pleasure you. But he did not miss the almost silent moan you released seeing him do that.

He smirked, once more. “You really like that, don’t you? When I spit on you.”

“Can— Can you stop teasing me?!” You said annoyed/flustered and he giggled.

He chuckled. “I knew it… that look you gave me when I spat on my cock was enough to let me know.“

He gave your clit more rubs while he hovered over you again.

“Open.” He gestured to your lips with his eyes.

Confusion was evident on your face, not understanding but you still complied.

“My slut is so well mannered; now stick your tongue out for me.”

A ball of spit fell from his mouth into your tongue.

“Swallow.”

It was embarrassing for you how quickly you complied and wanted more.

What is wrong with me?

You were discovering things about yourself that you never imagined existed.

“You want another one, doll?” He asked, begging for you to say yes as he was also enjoying every second of it. He never knew he was going to like this as much as he does right now; but maybe it was just because this was another way for him to mark you.

You nodded, opening your mouth again. And he smirked.

Another ball of spit fell into your mouth. And this time he continued with a kiss, connecting your tongues.

Every touch, kiss, action… was guiding you towards your high and you were starting to feel it. And he could see it by the way you were grinding your hips on his hand.

He lowered his face to your cunt, taking a whiff of it. “So good.” He moaned before sucking your clit.

You were a moaning whimpering mess by the way his tongue was going so fast on your bud; taking a few whiffs in between as he loved the way you smelled. At this point all his lower face was covered in your fluids. And he didn't mind one bit.

His other hand was now stroking his cock.

He is hard again.

You wanted to touch him so badly too but you were about to come.

Maybe next time. You thought.

But you did have one request. “Jungkook, I’m close. I want you to— to touch my clit with your cock.”

He didn't think twice to do so, wanting to make you go crazy for him, to lose all sense of reason for him, to just think of him only him. He wanted to break you.

“Fuck, I love you so much.” He cursed loving how lewd you were when about to climax.

Occasionally he would slap his cock on your clit as he rubbed himself on your clit, making your body jolt from overstimulation.

“fu— uck, Jungkook!” You grabbed onto his arm while you rode your high on his dick.

You had come before by your own hands but this… this was way different.

Jungkook, seeing your climax, also came on you, strings of semen landing on your belly and tits.

As you came down from cloud nine, he left wet kisses on your neck and then switched to your lips, connecting them.

He broke the kiss, resting his forehead on yours with his eyes closed as he caressed your cheek with his thumb. “Finally… mine.” He exhaled in relief as if he had held his breath all these months that he was with you. Because even though he told you that it would be ok if you didn't feel the same way, reality was that he knew very well it wasn't going to be ok for him; he knew that being with you and not being able to touch you… kiss you… hold you… make love to you… or just watching you with another man… was going to be torturous and unbearable pain. But he was willing to go through it just so he could see you everyday and make sure you were ok.

“I love you.” You said to him, wanting to reassure him you weren't going anywhere and that your feelings were true.

He chuckled as he sighed. “That just makes me want to go for round two. But I know you are tired and sore already so I will save that round two for later.”

You lazily chuckled; body so relaxed…

He noticed your heavy eyelids so he picked you up bridal style and took you to your bed. The sudden gesture shocked you a little bit but later relaxed in his arms.

After he gently laid you on the bed, he left the room and came back with a damped towel and proceeded to clean you up. As he did, your enamored eyes went from his face to his beautiful body, focusing on his caring actions. But the scars of the injury you cured grabbed your full attention after. Till this day you hadn't asked him what exactly he was running from and who had hurt him; it had been four months already. There were some times where you wanted to speak about the subject, but decided not to; scared of making him remember something he didn't want to. But right now, you felt so in tune with him; like your souls had reached their peak in connecting… that it gave you tranquility; you just knew he was willing to share his vulnerability with you.

“Jungkook… what were you running from that day?” You finally asked, his eyes quickly going up to you.

He was definitely not expecting that question now but he was already preparing for it; he knew you both would eventually talk about the subject. But he didn't mind; even if it meant going back to such a miserable past. You were his and he was yours, and he wanted to share everything with you.

“My family.” He said as he kept cleaning you.

You were shocked; that was an answer you were definitely not expecting. You were expecting maybe thieves… someone who just didn't like him… or just bad people in general. But his own blood? No.

“Why, if I may ask?” You said, now sitting on the bed.

“You can ask all you want, beautiful.” He smiled, rubbing your thigh as a sign of reassurance.

“They just… didn't like the idea of me going against their— no, her word.” He chuckled softly, but there was pain evident in his eyes.

“Her?” You asked curious of who he was referring to.

“My mother, it was always her and everyone followed… my whole childhood consisted of her controlling every little thing of my life; even the way I dressed. But as i got older, I began to rebel; starting with my hobbies… that's when I learned how to paint.”

It's incredible for you how well he hid the pain and reality of his childhood when he talked to you about it. He always told you the nice memories but never the bad ones. And you could tell there were a lot of bad ones.

“I changed the way I dressed; I got piercings and tattoos… I always got shit for it but I didn't care; I could take it… that's what I always said.” He continued.

And damn does he look good… You were happy he got the courage to be himself.

“But my tolerance was cut short when she forced me to marry a woman from a well known vampire clan. Apparently she got interested in me at one of the many balls I attended. And since she belongs to a very rich and powerful clan… it was all about gain.”

He threw the towel away and went to rest beside you, laying his head on your thigh. He took your hand and placed it on his head. And you already knew what it meant: he wanted pets.

“So I ran before the wedding could take place. But she found out and went looking for me; she sent my two brothers to search for me. The commitment they had to find me was astonishing because I was already far far away when they found me. And that's… that's when my own two brothers that I grew up with, almost… killed me.”

His last two words sounded doubtful, as he still couldn't believe that had happened.

“They tried to talk it out at first but when I kept refusing… all they said was that they didn't have another choice. I was always the strongest one out of the three so that’s the reason why she sent them both. But… even so, I managed to escape and lose them.”

You wiped the tears that had not gone unnoticed by you.

“Damn, I'm crying?” He chuckled and you nodded.

“It’s ok.” You reassured and kissed his hand that cleaned his eyes.

That action secretly drives him crazy.

“I ran all I could; I remember passing a lot of trees. And then… I saw you. Even though I was in pain, once my eyes laid on you I felt that you were someone who was going to be really important to me; I could feel it; as if we had known each other in a past life. But at the same time I was doubtful; probably because my intuition was being clouded with my fight or flight instinct; but once I saw you turn back because of a spider.. I knew I was ok and that you weren't going to hurt me.”

“I don't know if to feel flattered or insulted.” You said making him snort out a laugh.

“So that spider technically made you trust me?”

“Yeah… I thank that spider every day. Because otherwise, I would’ve probably just bled out.”

That was scary just thinking about; knowing that there could’ve been a possibility where you didn't meet each other. You look back and you for the first time in your life… feel thankful for a spider showing up.

“In that case, I'm grateful for the spider too.” You both laughed.

Your fingers kept running his hair while his eyes closed, enjoying your touch like always. There was silence but it was a comfortable one. As you sat there giving him affection, your eyes scanned all his features. Still admiring his beauty as if it was the first time you saw him.

“You are so beautiful.” Those words just needed to come out from your mouth.

His eyes opened with a shocked flustered expression; he was blushing and moved one of his hands to cover half of his face as if it was helping cover the obvious blushing cheeks and ears. He always did that when he got shy.

You chuckled at his cuteness. “Too bad I'm gonna get old and won't match your youthfulness.” You chuckled again but this time a bit more sad.

His expression changed to a more serious one. “Why are you thinking like that?”

“Because… my body will change and… I won't be able to keep up with… you know… your needs.”

The harsh truth; one that had been bothering you for a while now but tried your best to ignore it; you wanted to live in the moment after all. But the problem was that you wanted to make him happy always; to please him and be there for him when he needed you just like he does for you now. You didn't want to lose that ability. Because you knew for a fact he was going to love you unconditionally but it was still going to be hard for you.

He sat now, placing a hand on your cheek. “_____, look at me. Your hair will turn gray and your skin will prune. But your smile won't change, the way you make me laugh won't change, the way you love won't change, your fear of spiders probably won't change either.”

“Hey!” You protested.

“And your way of knowing me so well… the way you have me at the palm of your hands… the way you turn me on… won't change either. All those things are what made me fall deeply in love with you.”

“Even if my ass and tits drop?” You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh my god, ____. Yes, I will love you even if your ass and tits drop.” he rolled his eyes and began to laugh and you joined.

You were in love; mad, mad in love.

“In other words… Till my end comes, you will always have my heart. Even after our inevitable parting happens, I'll never let go of you.”

Tears unavoidably fell from your eyes as you smiled; feeling so lucky and so loved. Was this the world reciprocating all the love you gave to it al this time?

“Besides, we can just make potions for stamina and endurance. If you know what I mean.” He winked and smirked.

You slapped his arm and began laughing. “You had to ruin the moment you fucking degenerate.”

“Only if it's you.” He stuck his tongue out, stopping it between his teeth with deviousness in his eyes; a playful flirty expression he tended to make.

He really never failed to make you flustered, shy or blushed even if it was sometimes corny. It was something that you knew that even if decades passed, you would still experience.

“I hope I get to see you in my next life too, Jungkook.”

“Oh believe me, I will always find my way back to you.”

And as always, that sincerity in his eyes was undoubtedly one of your biggest weaknesses. Your lips couldn't help but to reach for his.

Now the next thing was to plan the wedding. You didn't have any ideas yet. But one thing was for sure. And that was that Yoongi was going to make the pastries. It was a perfect excuse to make him do pie.

Sorry Yoongi.

[mllemaenad]

It's fascinating that the people who have most consistently and successfully established a connection to the titans are the Grey Wardens.

I'm not trying to oversell here: what they're doing has a lot of downsides. But while there are rare incidents of a dwarf truly connecting to a titan across the Dragon Age stories ... only the Grey Wardens have found a way to do it that's even moderately predictable. Sure, the Joining might kill you. But if it doesn't – congratulations, you're linked up to the Song of the titans.

Of course, they're connecting to the corrupted dreams of the titans: the infamous blight. And the more obvious differences in that connection obviously stem from that: the infertility, the eventual corruption of their bodies, the call of the Song that can overwhelm their minds.

But it's interesting what else is going on with them. I've never seen a Grey Warden dwarf do magic, the way Valta or Harding can. But I do wonder if that's an absolute rule, or just a side effect of the way they're connected.

It does seem to reconnect dwarves to their dreams. The archdemon dreams are the most obvious example, but there's also Oghren's account of a normal dream in Awakening. I recognise that that anecdote is meant to be funny but a) it still happens and b) there's now a lot of material from Harding that could also be described as "funny stories about dreams", and we aren't meant to disbelieve her.

So why no (obvious) magic?

Well, the thing about the Joining is that it is at least an attempt to connect to the blight safely.

The Joining requires darkspawn blood. Recruits are typically sent out under the watch of an older Warden to slay darkspawn and collect the blood. This is a test to see if the recruit has the courage and ability to fight darkspawn. Once the blood is collected, the Wardens add a single drop of Archdemon blood and use magic to make it at least remotely safe to consume. Archdemon blood is among the rarest substances in all Thedas, and it makes the Joining all the more exclusive a ritual. Older Wardens carry a small amount with them at all times. – The World of Thedas Volume 1

The exact details of how the blood is prepared remain a mystery, but the Grey Wardens have clearly gained some control over it. A recruit who is suffering from the taint may not be cured of it, but if they survive the Joining they will develop a resistance that may last decades. Without the Joining they will die or become ghouls like anyone else, so while a certain resilience on the part of the recruit may be part of the magic, it certainly isn't all of it.

Prospective Wardens consume as little as possible, as safely as possible, in order to gain the skills necessary to fight darkspawn: the ability to sense their presence, a practical if not literal immunity to the taint – and the all-important archdemon-killing presence of the taint in their veins.

Most of them aren't trying to do more with it. Although, yep, Avernus has the general idea:

The taint allows us to sense the darkspawn. The longer we survive with the taint in our blood, the more potent it becomes. Unfortunately, this corruption will eventually overwhelm the Warden; over time, it devours both mind and body, leaving nothing. But what if the spread of the corruption could be stopped, or contained in some way? What if the Warden could become more powerful, without having that power kill him? How great would that power be? Would it be enough to stop the demons? The Joining ritual is crude. We take into yourself the blood of the darkspawn in the most obvious way. Most die from the corruption immediately; it is, after all, poison. There must be some way to refine the Joining. Isolate the true power that is found in darkspawn blood, and leave behind the evil that kills us. I can feel the corruption starting to take its toll on my body. I must not succumb. There is too much work to be done. Through my magic I've been able to slow its inevitable spread, but not stop it completely. I am starting to hear things, even while awake: A voice—more beautiful than any other—that calls to me from the depths. In my dreams, I see the Black City, and I am drawn towards it. There is something there, an answer to what this taint is, this taint that we share with the darkspawn… —From the notes of Avernus. – Avernus's Notes

And that's the key thing he points out: the taint within a Grey Warden grows more powerful over time. However, the mental resistance to that taint breaks down as it grows, so by the time the taint is at its full power the Warden is effectively a ghoul. Yes, there are instances of intelligent, functional ghouls – but they're not the norm.

Power develops over time. One of the first things Alistair will tell a newly recruited Hero of Ferelden is that he can sense the presence of nearby darkspawn, but you can't ... yet. That power will develop with time.

In practice, by the time most dwarven Wardens have developed enough taint in them to even attempt magic, they're in no condition to try it. And even if they were, would they think to?

By contrast, both Valta and Harding are basically smacked in the face with the raw power of lyrium. It does not grow in them slowly, it comes to them all at once – and a certain amount of involuntary magic is performed on the spot. Once it's happened, they can't ignore it. They know they can do it.

I wonder if a dwarven Warden on the brink of their Calling might be able to throw some rocks around, if they really tried.

After all: genlock emissaries have magic, and a genlock is ... not exactly a dwarf, no, but it's also not exactly not a dwarf.

[xoeus]

when the lights dim — oneshot

PREMISE 𓃊 ❝ a love tested by silence and distance, where sunghoon’s presence is all you need to heal, but is it enough to mend what’s broken? ❞

박성훈 x fem reader ꣑୧ angst, unrequited love wc 3.5k

୨୧ when you love someone, you hold on — you fight, you stay, you endure. at least, that’s what you always believed. being with sunghoon felt like second nature, something you never had to question. but somewhere along the way, love turned into something quieter, something heavier. he started slipping through your fingers like sand, and no matter how hard you tried to hold on, he wasn’t reaching back. when does love stop being worth the fight? and more importantly, when is it okay to let go?

the thing about falling in love is that no one ever tells you how much it hurts when it starts slipping away.

you and sunghoon were never the type to have explosive fights. there was no dramatic screaming, no shattered glass, no slammed doors. instead, your love unraveled quietly — like a favorite sweater slowly coming apart at the seams, thread by thread.

you noticed it first in the way he held you. his arms used to be your safest place, warm and steady, but now they felt hesitant, almost reluctant. when you leaned into him, he didn’t lean back as much. when you kissed him, he still kissed you, but the passion felt… different.

less.

at first, you brushed it off. maybe he was stressed. maybe he was just tired. maybe you were overthinking.

but love wasn’t supposed to make you feel like you were begging to be wanted.

the change was gradual, like the slow fade of a once-vivid photograph. he started coming home later, staying out longer, answering texts with half-hearted responses.

“practice ran late”

“got caught up with the guys”

“too tired, maybe tomorrow”

excuses that tasted like lies, even if they weren’t.

you missed him. even when he was right next to you, you missed him.

but no matter how much you ached for him to hold you like he used to, to look at you like you were the best thing in his world, he never did.

one night, you tried. really, really tried.

you made his favorite dinner, set up a movie night, even put on the hoodie he once said you looked cutest in. you wanted to remind him — remind yourself — that you were still here, still fighting.

when he walked in, he barely spared you a glance.

“you’re home late,” you said, forcing your voice to stay light.

“yeah,” he mumbled, toeing off his shoes.

he didn’t ask about the dinner. he didn’t notice the way you had set up the couch just the way he liked it. he didn’t even kiss you hello, like how he used to.

you swallowed the lump in your throat. “i thought we could watch something together.”

sunghoon sighed, rubbing his eyes. “i’m really tired, y/n. can we do this another time?”

another time.

but another time never came.

you stayed for weeks, maybe months, in the limbo of waiting. waiting for him to come back to you, waiting for him to say i love you first, waiting for the ache in your chest to fade.

but one night, as you lay in bed beside him, staring at the ceiling while he faced away from you, it hit you.

you weren’t waiting for him.

you were waiting for the version of him that used to love you properly. the sunghoon who held your hand just because, who sent you texts filled with hearts and dumb jokes, who made you feel like you were the best thing to ever happen to him.

that sunghoon wasn’t coming back.

and loving someone shouldn’t feel like convincing them to love you back.

packing was the hardest part.

not because you had too much to take with you, but because everything in this space had traces of him. the hoodie draped over the chair, the half-used bottle of his cologne on the dresser, the polaroids of the two of you stuck to the mirror.

you stared at them for a long time.

then, carefully, you pulled them down.

“where are you going?” his voice was groggy with sleep, but the moment he saw the bag in your hand, he sat up.

your throat tightened, but you forced yourself to meet his gaze. “i can’t do this anymore, sunghoon.”

his brows furrowed. “what do you mean?”

you let out a breathy laugh, but there was no humor in it. “you know exactly what i mean.”

he didn’t say anything.

because he did know.

you waited. you waited for him to tell you to stay, to promise he’d fix things, to reach for you the way you had been reaching for him all this time.

but all he did was stare, lips slightly parted, eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite name.

guilt? regret? relief?

whatever it was, it wasn’t love.

you nodded to yourself.

that was your answer.

walking out of that apartment, out of him, was the hardest thing you’d ever done.

but as the cold air kissed your cheeks and the weight of waiting was finally lifted from your shoulders, you realized something.

it hurt like hell. but for the first time in a long time—

you could finally breathe.

k: i hope this doesn’t flop TT

xoeus ‎ ‎ ‎ 𓂃 ‎ ‎ ‎ TheXoeusArchive

[hishumanbellestories]

First kiss, but nothing serious.

I wanted something about the first kiss between Alastor and Deborah, I let myself go with the feelings, sweet and pathetic. 🫠

The air crackled between you like the charged silence before a storm. It had always been this way with Alastor — his presence was a static hum in your bones, an unseen force twisting the world around him. And yet, you were drawn to it, to him.

He grinned, as he always did; that sharp, ever-present smile that seemed more a mask than an expression. But his eyes — deep, endless red — lingered too long tonight, watching you as if there was something he couldn’t quite place.

«You do enjoy testing your luck, my dear», he said, voice syrupy smooth, but there was something else beneath it. Something unsettled.

You tilted your head, challenging him with nothing but a look.

«And you enjoy pretending you don't care».

For once, he didn’t immediately respond. Instead, he took a step closer, the space between you vanishing like smoke. His gloved hand reached out, hovering just near your cheek, fingers twitching as if fighting the impulse to touch you.

«You make the most dangerous assumptions», he murmured, and his voice was softer now, almost uncertain.

A rare thing.

You could feel his breath, though he didn’t need to breathe; could feel the static between you tightening like a wire pulled taut.

You knew Alastor — knew the way he toyed with the world, with people, but this wasn’t a game, was it?

The moment stretched, a delicate thread of something unnamed. Then, without thought, without fear, you closed the distance, placing your soft lips against his, just to spite him, and ruin his "I've got it all under control" ways.

The kiss was not meant to be anything but a test — chaste, fleeting. But the moment your lips brushed his, a current surged between you, sharp and consuming.

His entire body stiffened, and for a single, breathless second, the ever-present grin faltered. Then, just as quickly, it was back.

He pulled away, laughter bubbling up, but there was something wrong with it — too high, too forced — control slipped from his hands, causing the world to collapse beneath his feet.

«My, my, what a bold little thing you are!», he took a step back, a flicker of something unreadable flashing across his face before his mask slammed firmly back into place. «Careful, darling. You wouldn’t want to start something you can’t handle.»

But you saw it.

The way his hands trembled ever so slightly.

The way his grin no longer reached his eyes.

He didn’t know what this was.

And that...

Terrified him.

For the first time, you saw Alastor shaken. It wasn’t much — just a tremor in his fingers, a flicker of something too raw in his eyes before he forced it back into that gleeful, manic mask. But you saw it. And he knew you did.

He recovered fast, of course. Spun on his heel like nothing had happened, hands slipping into his pockets as he whistled some old radio tune, his voice bright, careless. Too careless.

«Well, well! That was unexpected! Can’t say I planned for a lady such as yourself to be so…», his grin sharpened, «forward».

You crossed your arms, tilting your head.

«It was just a kiss, Alastor».

He stopped.

Just for a second.

Barely noticeable, but you caught it.

He turned to you, that ever-present amusement still there, but something lurked beneath it, something restless.

«Just a kiss?», he repeated it like the words were foreign on his tongue. He took a step toward you, then another, the distance between you vanishing once more.

He didn’t touch you, but you felt him all the same, the crackle in the air thick enough to choke on.

His voice dipped lower, softer, almost dangerous in its curiosity.

«Tell me, my dear… was that just a kiss to you?»

You held his gaze, refusing to flinch.

«I don’t know yet».

His grin widened, but his fingers twitched at his sides. That was new. Alastor never hesitated. He never second-guessed himself. But right now, he was doing both.

For a man who delighted in control, in knowing the game before it was played, this uncertainty was driving him mad.

The silence between you stretched, thick with something unsaid, something unacknowledged. You could see it in his eyes — the war raging inside him.

Then, suddenly, the tension snapped. He laughed. Loud, sharp, as if trying to shatter whatever had settled between you. With a theatrical flourish, he stepped back, hands thrown up as if waving off the entire moment.

«Well! That was certainly entertaining!», his voice was back to its usual, sing-song charm, but there was something off about it. «But really, darling, if you were expecting a fairytale romance, I’m afraid you’ll have to find some other poor fool for that!»

He winked, as if that sealed it, as if he hadn’t just been shaken to his very core.

You didn’t argue. Didn’t push. You just smiled.

«Who said anything about a romantic fairy tale?», you teased.

Because you knew.

He was running.

And one day, he’d realize there was nowhere left to hide.

Alastor kept his distance after that night.

Not in an obvious way — no, he was far too cunning for that. He still laughed with you, still appeared at your side with a flourish and a grin, still teased you like nothing had changed.

But it had.

You saw it in the way his gaze lingered just a second too long, the way his hands would twitch when he got too close, the way his smile would slip — only for a fraction of a moment — whenever you so much as met his eyes for too long.

He was unraveling, and he knew it.

But Alastor didn’t unravel. He didn’t falter. He was chaos, but controlled chaos. And yet, you had done something to him.

And he hated it.

It came to a head one evening, the two of you alone in one of the lesser-used sitting rooms of the hotel. Rain pattered against the windows, and the room was dim, lit only by the flickering glow of an old lamp. It cast long shadows, twisting along the walls like they were alive, like they were watching.

You were watching too.

Alastor had been quiet all night, tapping his fingers against the armrest of his chair, his smile a little too sharp, his posture a little too tense.

«You’re avoiding me», you broke the silence with ease, not bothering to mask the amusement in your voice.

Alastor’s fingers stilled. His eyes flickered toward you, red and unreadable. Then — laughter. Bright, grating, forced.

«Now why would I do a thing like that, darling?», his voice was its usual sing-song self, but it lacked its usual bite. «I think you must be imagining things! After all... I am here, with you, all alone».

You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. «Am I?».

He hesitated.

It was brief, but it was still there.

A moment of hesitation, a sliver of uncertainty, and that was all you needed.

«Do you regret it?», you asked, voice softer now.

He went very still.

The shadows stretched around him, his antlers casting long, spindly shapes against the wall. The radio static that always followed him crackled just beneath the surface, an unspoken tension thrumming between you both.

Then — he laughed again, but this time, there was no humor in it.

«Regret?», he cocked his head, grin stretching unnaturally wide.

«Now why would I regret something so insignificant?».

You didn’t flinch. You didn’t even blink.

«Then why are you running from it?»

His smile twitched. It was the smallest thing — so small most people wouldn’t have noticed. But you weren’t most people.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head as if shaking off something he couldn’t name. Then, with a sudden, almost violent movement, he was out of his chair and in front of you, too fast for you to react. One gloved hand braced against the chair’s armrest, the other hovering just near your face, fingers curling like he wanted to touch you but couldn’t.

Couldn’t.

Or wouldn’t.

You held your breath, but you didn’t look away.

«You think you’re so clever», he murmured, voice too low, too smooth, like a blade hidden beneath silk. «Poking at things you don’t understand. Playing a game you don’t know the rules to».

You smiled, slow and knowing.

«Then tell me the rules, Alastor», your voice firm and your gazes locked.

His breath hitched. Just for a second. And then, something in him snapped.

His lips were on yours before you even had a chance to react.

It wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t soft.

It was a collision — sharp, desperate, edged with something neither of you had words for yet. His hand finally found your face, going against his instinct to give up on you, on your skin. Gloved fingers pressing into your skin, as if grounding himself, as if keeping himself from slipping through the cracks of something he couldn’t understand.

For a moment — just a moment — he let himself have this.

Then, just as suddenly as it had begun, it was over.

He pulled away as if burned, eyes wide, chest rising and falling in sharp, uneven breaths. His lips parted like he wanted to say something, but nothing came.

Then — he laughed.

It was sharp, grating, too loud for the room.

A poor attempt at covering the tremor in his hands, the way his whole body seemed to be fighting against something it couldn’t name.

«Well, now!», he straightened, adjusting his tie with an exaggerated flourish. «That was certainly… enlightening!»

You didn’t speak. You just looked at him.

Waiting.

His smile didn’t quite reach his eyes.

«But I do believe I’ve kept you up far too late, my dear! Sweet dreams and all that!»

And before you could so much as blink, he was gone, vanished into the shadows like he had never been there at all.

But you knew better.

Because this time — he was the one running.

And sooner or later, he’d have to stop.

The distance didn’t last.

Of course, it didn’t.

You were attracted to each other like two magnets, the attraction for each other was too strong.

Alastor could run. He could retreat into the static, into the shadows, into the illusion that nothing had changed. But it had. And now, it was eating him alive.

It had been days since that kiss, since he had fled from you like a man on the edge of something he couldn’t name, something he couldn’t control. You had given him space, knowing he would break before you ever had to chase him.

And tonight, he did.

It was well past midnight when he found you.

The storm outside had swallowed the sky whole, thunder rolling in waves, rain hammering against the windows like impatient fingers demanding entry. The dim light of the hotel flickered, struggling against the pull of something unseen, something raw and waiting in the air.

You were in the lounge sitting on the sofa, the piano under the moonlight that created nostalgic atmospheres with the shadows of the reflections.

Alastor stood near the grand piano in the lounge, back turned to you, shoulders stiff beneath his coat. The room was empty, silent but for the faint crackle of radio static, seeping from him like a wound he couldn’t close.

You stepped forward.

«Alastor».

He didn’t turn.

«I should have left», he said, voice thick.

His voice was different. Not his usual sing-song lilt, not his playful, taunting tone. It was quiet. Unsteady. Almost human.

You frowned. «Left?»

He let out a short, breathless laugh, shaking his head.

«The moment I met you, I should have left».

Finally, he turned, and when he did, you nearly forgot how to breathe.

Alastor had always been unsettling — too sharp, too knowing, always grinning like he was two steps ahead of everyone else. But now… now he just looked wrecked.

His red eyes burned, feverish, his usual grin nowhere to be found. Instead, his lips were slightly parted, like he wanted to speak but couldn’t form the words.

You stepped closer, and this time, he didn’t back away.

«What are you so afraid of?», you asked, voice gentle.

His jaw clenched. «Don’t».

«Don’t what?»

He exhaled sharply, running a gloved hand through his hair.

«This», he whispered.

«You...», he gestured wildly, like the very idea of you existing in his world was an offense to the natural order of things.

«It’s not supposed to happen like this».

You searched his face. «Like what?»

His eyes flashed. «Like this!»

And suddenly, his hands were on you — gripping your arms, pulling you close, too close.

You could feel the tremor in his fingers, the barely contained storm raging beneath his skin.

«You think I don’t know what you’re doing to me?», he whispered, voice rough, unsteady. «You think I don’t feel it? The way you—», his breath hitched. «The way you’re ruining me?»

Your heart pounded. «Ruining you?»

His grip tightened.

«I don’t love. I don’t want. Not like this».

His voice shook, something raw bleeding through the cracks in his mask.

«Not until you», his voice a tremor.

The words sent a shiver down your spine.

You lifted a hand, brushing your fingers over his jaw, his skin burning even through the gloves. «Alastor…»

He sucked in a sharp breath, as if your touch had cut him open, and for the first time, he didn’t move away.

«I hate this...», he confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

«I hate you», he said again.

«I hate that you’re in my head.

That I dream of you.

That every time I close my eyes, all I see is you. I hate it because I can’t stop it. I hate it because I don't want to stop it».

His forehead rested against yours now, his breath mingling with yours, the storm outside howling like a beast.

You swallowed hard. «Then stop running».

He stilled.

You slid your hands up his chest, fingers curling into his coat, holding him there, as if anchoring him to this moment.

«I don’t want you to love me if it means destroying you. But I see you, Alastor. The real you. And I’m not afraid».

His whole body shuddered, as if your words had shattered something inside him.

And then, before you could say anything else, he kissed you.

It was nothing like before.

There was no hesitation this time, no fleeting, confused touches.

This was something deeper, something desperate, something starving.

His hands tangled in your hair, his body pressing against yours like he wanted to disappear into you, like he wanted to drown in the feeling.

You gasped against his lips, and he swallowed the sound greedily, his grip unrelenting, as if letting go would tear him apart. The static around you roared, the air splitting with unseen energy, lights flickering wildly. The very room seemed to bend around him, as if he was losing control of everything but this.

When he finally broke the kiss, his forehead pressed against yours, his breath ragged, his hands still cradling your face like he didn’t dare let go.

His voice was hoarse, barely audible.

«You ruined me, my dear. You have no idea what it means to want you mine. What it means to be mine. Like a poison you have corroded my mind. My heart».

You smiled. «No. I saved you», a shiver runs down your spine.

Alastor let out a sharp breath, something like laughter, something like surrender.

Then, with a slow, almost reverent touch, he kissed you again.

And this time, he didn’t run.

[frozenjokes]

can you guys stop slandering the clowns. they’re not assassins, nuns, deities of corruption, victims, or anything of the sort, they’re just clowns in the circus called hermitcraft.

ao3 link

Mumbo had always held a distinct awareness of life, a sixth sense almost, and he wasn’t so sure anyone else was the same. He felt the roots of trees under his feet, the tender pulse of want eminenting from every living thing wisping up his ankles and sinking under his skin. He’d see dogs on walks and feel the scratch of their nails on the sidewalk like marks on his bones, he held their hot breath in his lungs, felt the sting of bright sunshine on their dark eyes. He did not have to see the fox to know its teeth in his own mouth, nor did he have to hear the squealing mouse to feel fangs in his own spine.

All the same sensations he shared with humanity, no weaker, no stronger. That had always been a point of distress for Mumbo; growing older, it seemed so clear that people shared an inherent connection with each other, stronger than their link with the rest of the world’s life. Species preference did not come naturally to Mumbo, it was a trait he had to learn, and it was not one he learned quickly.

He learned adults didn’t like when he hit other kids. Arguably, they were more horrified when he threw rocks at squirrels and sparrows and cats. Mumbo was not allowed to peel the bark off trees or gouge them with sticks, but this was not a crime deemed abhorrent, so he often found his caretakers would rather look the other way than fight with him.

Mumbo was always fighting, with adults, with other kids. He could not identify with them, and as a little kid, he did not understand cooperation was necessary for his own wellbeing. The world should bend around him, or at the very least he should be able to fight to make it that way- all the social hoops just got in the way.

Mumbo loved animals. There was one foolproof way for his many various caretakers to quell him, knowledge passed from one to the other, that Mumbo was partial to bribes, and payment by any nature related book or magazine would be acceptable. He wasn’t a particularly talented reader, but he didn’t need to be, not when the pictures painted worlds infinitely better than this one, when he had memorized his favorite passages to the point where his eyes only skimmed the words, lost in the scape of his own imagination. He watched the same documentaries hundreds of times, and in foster homes it wasn’t uncommon for one to always be playing, Mumbo’s only problem being that he wanted to be outside, and the TV could not come with him.

One of Mumbo’s favorite hobbies was running away, and faced with the smallest inconvenience he would be gone, out the front door without those pesky shoes everyone always wanted him to wear. Animals didn’t wear shoes, and humans were animals, so they ought not to be wearing shoes either! The local fire departments got to know Mumbo well, and honestly, were the source of most of Mumbo’s positive adult interactions. He was not a nuisance, he was never yelled at or scorned, he was Mumbo, running around without his shoes on again, we should probably make sure he doesn’t get hit by a car or abducted. Mumbo got to ride in multiple fire trucks, he got to wear their big hats and chase several firemen around the station while waiting for his guardians to pick him up. In elementary school, when Mumbo was not allowed to be a tiger shark or a jaguar or a peregrine falcon for career day, he relented to being a firefighter.

Sometimes Mumbo still thought about that. It felt too late, sometimes. He never went to college, didn’t have a clean criminal record, and had a history of job instability. He struggled with commitments, struggled being trapped inside. Maybe a career like that could work for him regardless. As far as physical fitness went, he could probably pass a test.

He kind of didn’t want to, though. He didn’t want any job at all. Though if he had to choose an animal, his answer would probably change. Little Mumbo had great ideas, sure, and adult Mumbo’s answer at the current moment would probably be something like an albatross, what cool birds, though his ideal animal could change on a whim. It didn’t matter too much, Mumbo was pretty sure he could be happy as anything so long as it wasn’t human. Maybe that was an exaggeration. But fuck, life would be a lot simpler, wouldn’t it.

Mumbo never understood why people had to do things so differently from the rest of the world. Like- he understood, he got it, but did no one else feel like something was so deeply, intrinsically missing, that if they could just beat the shit out of someone from time to time, everything would be better? To take a life in your fingers, feel it break, Mumbo felt crazy just thinking it, but there had never been a time in his life where he hadn’t been this way. He’d always been one of the bigger kids in foster care, he’d always been stronger, but physical violence always got him in trouble, even when the other kid clearly deserved it. The adults in his life were always appalled, as if not everyone in the world had that innate instinct to hurt.

Everyone in the world did not, in fact, feel instinctually driven to hurt others. That was not normal. They were not pretending.

That was a dizzying realization. Mumbo was nineteen, just before he was about to be forced to leave his final foster home. Now, maybe that was late, but late grade school and high school were easily the worst years of his life, and kids did not have to be physical to be vicious, so. Though, those ‘worst years’ were only the worst before twenty and twenty-one when he was homeless and lost, and ‘escaping’ to the wild didn’t really work out like he’d dreamed for so many years in foster care. At twenty-two, prison sounded deeply appealing, but he didn’t get the chance to go before being bailed out by a stranger pretending to be his cousin, promising to take him home.

And he did.

Mumbo was so fucking desperate, he didn’t care. He didn’t even ask his ‘cousin’s’ name. Mumbo was shown a room, of which he locked himself inside, determined never to leave. This stranger would either kill him, acceptable, or call the police and have him thrown in jail, also acceptable, but Mumbo would not spend another night on the streets.

Grian did neither of those things. He did not push when Mumbo refused to leave his room for over twenty four hours, not to eat, drink, or go to the bathroom. Mumbo was really animal now, and there was no world in which he imagined coming back.

Grian felt differently, it seemed. Sitting outside Mumbo’s door, talking through it, chatting like they’d known each other their whole lives. Traversing the house loudly, letting Mumbo get used to the noise. Going to work, trusting Mumbo in his place alone. Gifting him the power to stay, leave, hide, or poke his head out the door of his bedroom, peering into the living room down the hall where Grian sat reading on the couch, the TV on, but muted.

Mumbo wanted to know what he was reading. What kind of books he liked, the TV he watched, what job he had, and the other things he did in his free time. Those questions burned hotter than the ever-present bloodlust at the back of his mind, at least in those early days.

Grian was receptive. He wanted to know about Mumbo, too. It felt like a trick, but all these years later, Mumbo had to relent his suspicion. At a certain point, did it really matter if Grian had ulterior motives when he’d given Mumbo a life he could live at his own discretion for this many years?

He still didn’t know where Grian came from. He never asked, not even now, twenty seven and having grown into his own. Mumbo was afraid to ask, to question anything about this happenstance, like doing so would cause the illusion to crumble under his fingers. It had been almost a year ago when Mumbo suggested he move out; he had money, he had a job, even if he’d been planning to quit in favor of something new, something to suit his atypical needs. That violence, the drive, always crawling under his skin. That was the day he told Grian, craving his rejection.

Mumbo was going to be an assassin- however you went about doing that. He was going to kill people, an idea that was impossibly exciting, regardless of the life he’d lose in the pursuit.

Grian knew Mumbo was the one tearing up the leaves of the old oak in their backyard, stripping the bark with pocket knives. Grian had seen him pull up flowers and weeds alike. He had caught Mumbo with blood on his hands more than once, and turned the other way.

Grian knew.

Mumbo knew Grian knew, and he could not stand to wait for the blow of his rejection to land any longer, red hot and smoldering. Mumbo wanted it now. He needed it now, for his savior to see just who it was he’d picked off the streets, to see the mistake he’d made.

And Grian loved him anyway. Begged him to reconsider. If not to reconsider, just to stay.

Mumbo had never been wanted before. Loved, unconditionally. It was truly the most horrible, gut wrenching thing, like having sand thrown in his eyes, his windpipe being stomped on, a vice crushing his lungs. He cried so hard, chest heaving until he hiccuped, then wheezed, he truly thought he was going to die. He had never hated himself as much as when someone else loved him. He had never wanted to be truly human so badly, to feel that connection everyone else seemed to share. Maybe then he would understand. Maybe he’d be able to love Grian back.

It had only taken five months to be injured severely enough to kill Mumbo’s dreams, as well as most other work opportunities for the foreseeable future. Recovery had not been kind to Mumbo, the concussions leaving him with unbearable vertigo and nausea that kept him hunched over a toilet seat for hours at a time. It seemed like every form of entertainment was off the table when your brain was this fucked, and Grian enforced the hospital restrictions relentlessly, only allowing Mumbo old freedoms once he got the okay from a doctor. Even then, Mumbo felt lost. He was suddenly, unfathomably uninterested in everything that used to bring him joy, like his failure to chase what he really wanted hit so deep, he would never be fulfilled again so long as he laid to rot in bed.

The incident with Cub made month four of Mumbo’s recovery, and since then, Mumbo couldn’t stop thinking about him. How was he doing- bad by the look of it, but how was he doing at home, was he as restless as Mumbo, as miserable? That was assuming Cub liked being an assassin, that he was driven to hurt, and the time without had him spiraling in all the same ways, but Mumbo couldn’t help but project, not when Cub had been so helpless, just as frantic as Mumbo had been for so long.

He tried to talk to Grian about it. Tried to explain with none of the words he needed, since those words were dark and bloody, and the rate at which Mumbo was starting to want was enough to disturb even himself.

It wasn’t Grian’s fault he didn’t know how to help. Hopefully, he tried to suggest Mumbo ease back into working, just part time to ease the stir craziness of bed rest. That they go on walks despite Mumbo’s new disinterest in being outside at all, that they take a cooking class, or do yoga, or learn a random new hobby.

Mumbo got so frustrated with him. He didn’t know why, and it frightened him just how angry he was, how rage boiled over into hate some nights, laying alone in bed, wide awake, hyper aware of every sensation across his body, every brush of blankets, the draft from the old windows, his own hairs standing on end. Mumbo had always had violent impulses, he’d accepted them as part of himself, as thoughts he could not act on in accordance with the law, and he would not feel guilty for them, but it disturbed him how intensely they were starting to turn in on Grian, how detailed his fantasies would get if Mumbo indulged them, and nearing month six of his recovery, Mumbo did indulge them.

He isolated. What else was there to do?

The world was far too overwhelming, Grian was too much to face most days, and Mumbo didn’t think he could take being in his presence for too long. Grian was pushy, he was scared, he didn’t know what was going on, but even he relented dinner at the table together after Mumbo screamed he wouldn’t do it any more.

Mumbo wouldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t do this anymore.

///

Cub had run in to the grocery store around ten minutes before closing, not one of his finest moments, but he’d had trouble getting out of bed after his mid afternoon four hour nap, he was disoriented and a little weak, and he really didn’t want to go. Unfortunately, he’d run out of the frozen toaster waffles he ate most every morning for the past thirty years of his life, and he didn’t want to go tomorrow, so he had to go tonight.

Most people pushed their shopping carts at a walking pace, so while the banging of a high velocity shopping cart was unorthodox, Cub was far more focused on his waffle buying at the end of the frozen breakfast aisle. Did he go for the blueberry or the regular? He liked the blueberry, but he got them last time, so did he really want them again? Maybe he could just buy actual blueberries and put them on top, that was always good, but produce was all the way at the front of the store..

The rampaging shopping cart screeched as it turned into Cub’s aisle, the bull at the helm red and angry, Cub momentarily frozen in place before grabbing a random box and scurrying out of the way.

“AaAugh-“ came a belated noise of distress as the driver anchored the cart with deadly precision to block the easiest path of escape down the aisle, then abandoning their vehicle to trap the second path with their body, blocking Cub in. Recognition hit, and with it, terror.

“You.” Grian hissed, and despite being similar in stature to Cub himself, he looked twice as big, puffed up like an angry cat. “I owe you an apology.”

Cub was frantic in his brief search for any escape at all, but it seemed he and his waffles weren’t getting out of this one unscathed. “I’m sorry, then. I have to go.”

“No- I’m sorry, listen to me, won’t you?” Grian was still talking at Cub like he was mad at him, so this made nothing clearer.

“Why are you sorry. What is happening. You look like you have a lot of groceries, you should check out before they close.”

“I do not think I overreacted given the circumstances, but hindsight has made me believe you were probably more innocent than I initially gave you credit for. I know it’s not easy. This could happen to any of you, and it does, all the time, to no fault of your own. It’s not like you have anyone else to turn to.

“I- hey. You’re making a lot of assumptions about me. I have other people in my life.” Cub crossed his arms, a little awkwardly with the cast, to which Grian pointed, lamely.

“I only see one name.”

Cub looked down. Scar’s name was the only one visible, written large enough to cover the entire front of the cast. Cub had been so mad at him for that. He huffed, showing Grian the other side, covered in the names of most all the clowns in the clownvent. He had friends. Even if it was Scar that had made him go around collecting the signatures… and Cub didn’t know half their names… and he only talked to one or two of them a couple times a month…

Grian raised his eyebrows, looking more surprised than he had any right to be. “Other.. victims..?” he said, looking more disturbed than anything- come on!

“No! They’re the clowns! Do you guys seriously not know about the clownvent, it’s where the clowns live!”

“The. Clowns. Right,” Grian dismissed the subject as if the clowns were imaginary, and moved on before Cub could defend himself, “I need to know what it’s like.” The sudden switch in intensity caught Cub off guard, holding his waffles close as Grian suddenly advanced, “Mumbo’s sick, really sick, and I don’t know why or what to do. Scar-“

Cub snorted, “Well now you’ve gone and done it. He’ll be on his way now.”

“What? What are you talking about?”

“He hears. If he’s given you permission, he’ll know every time you speak about him. His name, at least. He’s nosy, he always wants to know what the fuss is about.” Cub sighed, deeply relieved. Grian was on a timer now. “You have five minutes, ten at most, but coming from you, he’ll definitely want to know what you’re saying about him. You didn’t know?”

“No one- Fuck! We need to get out of here.” With one hand, Grian grabbed his cart, and with the other, Cub’s wrist. “What does he know, just the location I said the name, or will he be able to follow me?”

“What- What are you doing!?”

“Answer me!”

“I- Just the location you said it, I think- Let go of me?”

“I’m not done with you.”

Cub was too frightened to fight, too bewildered and still too unsure on his feet to put up a proper resistance, even if Grian was really as weak as Scar insisted he was. Grian hadn’t seemed incapable when he’d shoved Cub out on his doorstep, and his grip was like a vice, tight and determined. Grian maneuvered his cart with impressive dexterity, especially for how fast he was moving, and the way Grian bulldozed through the self checkout had Cub mesmerized, up until Grian snatched the waffles out of his hands, scanned them, and shoved them unceremoniously into his reusable shopping bags, taking all four in his arms and sprinting out the sliding doors without his receipt. His- He took his fucking waffles!

Panicked, Cub pushed the cart Grian had just left back to the return, and scrambled after him. Grian whipped back, already halfway in his car.

“Get in.”

“I don’t really-“

“Get in the fucking car!”

Cub wasn’t sure at what point in his life that he lost his spine, but he was starting to believe as he fell into the passenger seat of Grian’s car that it might be a problem. He considered calling for Scar, but with Grian in the driver’s seat, it was unlikely that’d do anything but piss him off. Given the maniacal way Grian screeched out of the parking lot, Cub wasn’t trying to test his luck.

“As I was saying.” Grian spoke through gritted teeth, eyes dead forward, “Mumbo is sick. And as much as I would like to suspect the corruption’s influence, I am not so sure it’s to blame. We, uh.. We have an arrangement-“

“I know about the sex.”

“He told you!?”

“He told everyone and their brother, so like, all the clowns and some of the other circus people. He’s kinda pissed. Mostly he’s pissed it was good. If it wasn’t good he would’ve eaten you, that’s what he usually does at least. I guess he might not have eaten you, not with Mumbo around. He’s just mad he agreed not to bother you for so long.”

“For fuck’s sake! Are the clowns all spawn of corruption?”

“No, they’re just clowns. He just doesn’t give a fuck. It’s pretty obvious to everyone but the ringmaster he’s evil incarnate, but he’s fun and makes good cookies and he’s a pretty good clown. They like him well enough.”

Grian snorted, “I wouldn’t be surprised if he crafted some kind of spell, curse, or otherwise on the whole circus if that’s the case.”

“No. They’re just normal clowns. They aren’t-“

“Whatever. Point is, I don’t think the corruption is behind this- not that I trust it to uphold its end of our arrangement, but I haven’t sensed his or your presence anywhere for months, and Mumbo hasn’t been speaking to ghosts or anything. I’m worried the concussions have messed with his brain chemistry, he has no interest in anything he used to care about, he sleeps all day, he’s miserable, he-“

“Oh, thank god.”

“Wh- What?”

“He looked so put together. Like, completely normal. Coping. Perfectly fine. I thought I was crazy. Like, I’ve been this depressed since I took my first steps, that’s just a given when you’re like us.”

“That- I know he’s depressed, Cub. But this is new.”

“For real?”

“Yes for real!”

“Fuuuuuuck.”

“Chronic depression isn’t uncommon mind you, unfortunately you’re genetically predisposed for failure in about a hundred different ways, but this isn’t the main issue- I mean- it’s the start of the problem, but ever since he’s stopped doing all the things he does to cope, his condition has magnified to a level I’m concerned is getting to be unmanageable- I can tell, I can tell by the way he looks at me, and I- I was thinking about hospitalizing him, but that’s a worst case for normal depression, and this is- I’m not into purity, Cub, I know he needs outlets. Antipsychotics aren’t going to fix him. I just. I want to do what’s best for him, but I’m.. It just got so bad, so fast. I don’t want him to suffer.” Grian trailed off, and even looking straight ahead, Cub could see him squint against panic, could hear him strangle the quiver in his voice.

Cub knew in some ways what Grian was, what he was here for. Scar was never very concrete in matters of the supernatural, but he’d dropped a few vague remarks in regards to the nature of Grian’s kind, old spirits, victims of the Earth’s scars. Scar framed their meddling as a matter of revenge, simplified to a war of ‘good versus evil,’ when in reality they were sticking their noses in business that didn’t concern them. Corruption’s spawn belonged to their fathers, their nature could not be changed, and trying to do so was an unnecessary cruelty, prolonging a miserable life that could instead be free. Scar dismissed them as spiteful. Selfish. Which was not to say Scar himself was not selfish and cruel, but in his words, he did not pretend to be anything else.

Cub believed him. Before Scar, most all of what he’d ever wanted was to die. At least now he had something to be. Mumbo as he was now was just suspended in a state of endless wanting, having inhuman needs left unfulfilled, stuck because Grian would not let him go.

He did not care about Grian. Cub did not want to help him. His allegiance was to Scar, and despite everything, it would always be to Scar. However, kinship with Mumbo drew a new line of loyalty, almost stronger, bound by the kind of shared agony that not even Scar could ever know. Cub did not want Mumbo to suffer like this, not if he didn’t have to, not if Scar was right there, when Scar could take his pain away, facilitate the violence that would ease Mumbo’s aching heart. Cub wanted Mumbo to feel that relief, that explosive, rushing weightlessness he himself had experienced when he’d curled his hands over his mother’s throat.

So that was that then. This needed to run its course. When Mumbo killed Grian, he would be free. If Mumbo’s state was as dire as Grian seemed to think, it could be a matter of days.

Good. Good..

Cub stared straight ahead, watching the yellow lines of the dark road blur past, Grian similarly fixed to the empty street, eyes glazed. Cub had no allegiance to Grian. His kinship was to Mumbo.

And Mumbo could not go to Scar.

“What’s your endgame.” Cub only breathed the words, yet the silence still shattered, Cub squinting against the discomfort. “What’s your plan with Mumbo? What are your intentions?”

“I don’t understand.” Grian’s voice was just as quiet.

“What do you want. Why are you here when you know he could snap and shred you on a whim? If all of this resolves, if everything goes your way, how does it end?”

For the first time, Grian took his eyes off the road, he looked at Cub for a long time, too long, only for the light of another car to catch his eye, in which he turned his attention back.

“Mumbo gets to grow old. He gets to live.”

Cub’s lips were gently parted, body rigid, but Grian didn’t see. He was too concerned with the road ahead, with his fingers trembling on the steering wheel. Cub might’ve forgotten to breathe, he certainly wasn’t taking in any air, chest taut, constricted. What a simple thing it was, that could bring his whole world crumbling down.

“You think that’s possible? For him?”

Something impossibly sad fell across Grian’s face, tensing his jaw, clouding his eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, I do.”