#as well as growing more and more uncomfortable in the fandom

[years-n-feather]

My weird relationship with the She-Ra franchise

[area51-escapee]

I feel like people particularly in fandom have this idea that once a person reaches like over 25 they’re supposed to lose all their interests and only have the set pre approved Adult Interests™️ like paying taxes and having kids and drinking wine and the only reason an adult would like anything is to find some kind of sexual gratification in it because all adults are sex crazed perverts so even the most innocent fanart or fanfic is deemed sus and inappropriate and idk that sounds like a terrible way to think of getting older

[pwippy]

sua's such an under analyzed character but her mentality and presentation is really interesting!! to others (besides mizi), she appears reserved (very demure. very mindful) / cold but she's genuinely going through constant inner turmoil.

growing up, she was literally used as a commodity by her guardian. she's bullied by her sisters for being the guardian nigeh's favorite, but it's really only because she makes the most money. even after death, her guardian doesn't care that sua's gone, they're more concerned with the popularity and revenue that her fandom brings.

to the segyein, sua's essentially a doll and an ideal pet human. she's a top student at anakt, aka she sticks to a routine and acts easily brainwashed. when asked about her study habits, she just says "it's not really that hard... you just have to memorize what they teach you."

her objectification by others strips her of her identity and livelihood. it definitely plagues her perception of self worth/value, and manifests in her behavior (being quiet/not taking up much space, jealousy, apologizing often, being defensive - more on that later)

^ i think this whisper sums up her situation pretty well. her circumstances and the way she presents herself affects her relationships in anakt a ton if that makes sense ?

when sua meets mizi, such a vibrant, lively, and loving person, her focus and dare i say will to live completely shifts to mizi. in mizi's eyes, sua is seen as mizi's soulmate, someone she'll be with forever. someone who's always there for her. synergyyyy

although sua's feelings are mutual, she carries a level of self doubt and anxiety with her. sua believed her love for mizi would harm her in the end. she's stated before (EXPLICITLY) that she would die for mizi, and she does end up doing this in the form of sacrifice in round 1.

it's almost as if sua feels guilty for loving mizi. she knows they're doomed, and with their limited time, why should she be focused on? is it selfish of her to not tell mizi of their inevitable fate to live in their dream a little longer?

^ the lyrics of sweet dream can also serve as her mentality and point of view leading up to alien stage. she knows the idyllic world she's in is temporary, knowing her end is imminent yet praying to be saved.

although mizi views sua in a tinted lens, the other characters do not. at least, not in the affectionate sense. to till, sua's demeanor is offputting and uncomfortable

to ivan, he sees straight through to suas actions and (maybe unintentionally but i doubt it) exacerbates her doubts. he has his own events going on and genuinely does seem to want to be close to sua (graduation message + human relationship rating) but interacts in a way that makes her feel threatened. (in addition "he keeps crossing the line" in the relationship chart)

to the outside viewer its interesting to note sua often pulls mizi away from people. she pulls mizi away from ivan, and pulls mizi's attention from till to her in a short act of jealousy.

[stayevildarling]

Emily Prentiss x Reader- You're the greatest thing I lost

A/N: I'm back after a little break. I have been binge watching criminal minds for weeks and am currently on Season 7. The last few episodes gave me this specific idea. I'm sure people must have done this before given the size of the fandom. 🤍

prompt: You watch Emily die on a mission, unable to cope with the aftermath of her passing until your supervisor Hotch gathers you all for an important meeting and your world spins around completely once more

tw/tags: female reader, mentions of death, mention of blood, mention of gunshots, mention of depression, mention of alcohol consumption, mention of smoking, mention of self destructive behaviour, mention of insomnia, mention of troubled eating, heavy angst, happy ending though as always

word count: 3.8k

taglist:

@lunaticwhittaker , @billiebeanhoward , @lanawinters-ily , @kenzbro , @minaslittleone , @httpfiftyshadesofgay @whitelotus00 , @ninaahs , @paulsonsratched , @vintagepaulson , @isle-of-earle , @grilledcheeseandguavajelly , @lucyintheskywithxanax , @fanfics4world , @mymiraclewitch , @hazard-to-myself , @awritersometimes , @wastdstime , @p1pecleanerwitheyes , @queen2234 , @ihartnat , @lifebyinez , @stepintomyworld , @ahsatanizgay , @blu3dimples

,,No'' Penelope's begging startles you, followed by JJ's ,,She never made it off the table''.

With tears streaming down your cheeks and panic deeply settled into your chest, you find yourself sitting upright in your bed, the little sleep you had managed to get lately, interrupted by another one of the nightmares. It had been the same for months, the lack of sleep, the exhaustion creeping deep into your bones, the headaches and the fight to stay awake during the day. Yet each night, you would lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, feeling her beside you when in reality it was simply Sergio, trying to find some warmth beside you.

It had been hell, the mission, everything happening so fast as you and Morgan made it there, finding Emily on the floor, barely hanging on. The next thing you know, you had all been waiting in the hospital for hours, pacing back and forth before JJ shared the news. You couldn't breathe, collapsing into some bright bathroom, as the sheer panic gripped you. And it seems to have never quite left you, your chest always tight, your hands always shaking and your heart hurting every minute of every day.

The woman with dark brown hair and those brown eyes you could get lost in was gone. You had worked beside her and the BAU for several years, Morgan your partner at first until the three of you became the perfect trio. You worked well together, alongside Reid and Rossi and Hotch of course. There had always been a silent understanding between you and Emily, the deep trust that took a while to build, until the two of you knew you had each other's backs. But there was something else beside the trust, which you shared with other members of the team. There was something in each other's eyes that captivated you both. During a boring meeting, your eyes would find each other, silently communicating and remembering what gossip you would share over coffee afterwards.

An uncomfortable case or interrogation when either you knew Emily needed a break or this was getting to you a little much. A bumpy plane ride which Emily knew made you nervous and a gentle and subtle hand resting somewhere near you. In return, you knew exactly what got to her, certain cases, the paperwork in the middle of the night and so you kept her company, eventually growing close and seeing each other outside of work. It wasn't anything major, the occasional drinks after work, the occassional coffee before work but it had been obvious as neither of you minded it being simply the two of you rather than the whole team. Neither of you ever dared to express the underlying feelings and truths hidden beneath the smiles and the gentle strokes of each other's thumbs.

Emily had a feeling once, brushing it off as she wanted to focus on her work, and assuming that you couldn't be interested in her, when an unpleasant unsub on a case came a little too close to her and you sent him flying to the nearest wall. She had been impressed at first, but after giving it some time, she couldn't forget the expression on your face, more than it being your job, more than wanting to protect your partner. She had sensed love, in it's purest and truest forms but she brushed it off, despite her having the same feelings towards you, too busy with the cases piling up to ever adress what she had witnessed and what had been on her mind.

It had been the funeral that hit you the hardest, placing flowers on her coffin, standing beside Penelope as she held your hand, sobbing by your side while you remained with an empty expression on your face. You never cried in front of them, brushed Hotch's assessment aside as you couldn't talk about it but they had noticed. The long nights at your desk, the extensive research you had been doing on Doyle, helping Morgan find him and chasing nothing but revenge and making him pay for what he had caused. They noticed the bags under your eyes, the shaking of your hands and voice. And Reid has his suspicions about the contents of your coffee cup. Penelope worried as she never saw you eat anymore, at least around them and seeing how thin you had become. Yet throughout it all, you remained the best at what you are doing, profiling. You broke through even the toughest of cases with your team, often giving them important intel and chasing the unsubs down. And so neither of them could really do or say anything, simply watching you suffer in silence.

Your life had become dark, despite never really having Emily the way your heart had hoped, she was gone. No more smiles to share, no more silly gossip, no more running into missions with her, no one to comfort you on the plane, no one to get coffee or drinks with. And so your days had looked the same, working in the office until the late hours, long after the team had already left home. Stumbling home before forcing some small food down your throat in order not to pass out. Staring at the ceiling for hours, thinking of the woman suddenly gone from your life, getting little sleep before getting interrupted by the same nightmare. Like a robot, you got yourself in the shower and dressed, looking responsible for your day before grabbing a togo coffee and putting a little something in there in order to get you through the day.

At least three times a week you would stop by her grave, at first ever only managing to stay for a couple of minutes until it turned into hours. Sitting in front of her tombstone, no matter the pouring rain or blaring sun coming down on you as you would talk to her, cry over her, beg her to come back. The stages of grief hit you hard and each one was harder to overcome. The last couple of days had been different with you and Morgan finally chasing down the man responsible. When Morgan brought him into the BAU, you watched as anger bubbled over you, your fists clenching as you felt the urge to reach for your gun and cause him the same pain that he had inflicted upon you all. You weren't needed for the interview and you couldn't stomach it, so you remained by your desk. Yet the days leading up to this had you so exhausted, you felt on the verge of falling apart, your body barely keeping it together and the only thing getting you going the amount of caffeine in your body.

It's not until JJ finds you, asking you to join the others in the meeting room, that some adrenaline kicks back in, hoping on some updates with the case. You stand beside the table with the others, watching as they chat along. Seconds pass until your supervisor walks inside, having been gone for some months, his appearance different as he isn't wearing a suit and his facial hair grew in the past few months.

,,Welcome back'' one of them greets him, unable to quite make out who it is as everything arounds you feels a bit muffled due to your state of exhaustion.

,,Thanks. Everybody have a seat'' he encourages and his eyes fall upon you, and you reluctantly take a seat, worried you may fall asleep depending on the reason of this meeting.

,,Why? What's going on? Everything alright?'' the team almost asks in unison.

,,7 months ago I made a decision that affected this team. As you all know, Emily had lost a lot of blood after her fight with Doyle.'' he begins.

Your eyes force closed, really not able to stomach another one of these meetings or even hearing her name.

,,But the doctors were able to stabilize her. And she was airlifted from Boston to Bethesda under a covert exfiltration. Her identity was strictly need-to-know. And she stayed there until she was well enough to travel. She was reassigned to Paris where she was given several identities, none of which we had access to for her security.'' he explains, your whole world spins at his words, this feeling like another one of your nightmares.

,,She's alive?'' Penelope asks, tears already streaming down her cheeks.

,,But we buried her'' Spencer stutters, unable to believe a word your boss is telling you.

,,As I said, I take full responsibility for the decision. If anyone has any issues, they should be directed toward me'' he carries on and as you glance at Morgan, you can tell he is about to lose his temper.

,,Any issues? Yeah, I got issues'' he argues, staring at you in disbelief. You can't react, sitting there frozen, hoping you would wake up from this nightmare sometime soon, not able to stomach this change in your dreams and the option of her being alive. Your nails dig into your skin involuntarily, hoping this can wake you up.

,,Oh, my God'' they whisper and turn around in unison.

,,I am so sorry. I really am. Not a day went by that I didn't want to... Really, I-- you didn't deserve that. And I'm so sorry. There's so much I want to tell you guys, and I will. I promise. But right now I really need to know what's going on with Declan'' her voice cuts through the air, instantly bringing tears to your eyes, not being able to hide them this time.

You couldn't bear to look at her, the realisation slowly creeping in that this was far from a dream. Your eyes dart between JJ and Hotch, having figured by her positioning next to your boss that she had something to do with this, at least knowledge before you all did. Penelope is the first one up, taking the brunette into her arms.

Without another word you reach for your jacket, standing up before walking out of the room, ignoring their concerned faces and ignoring the woman's presence altogether, not being able to handle this. Somehow through the panic and tears and shock, you manage to make your way to the rooftop, your secret hideaway lately as no one ever really came there, fumbling the inside of your jacket pocket until you reach the packet of cigarettes and the lighter, quickly putting one between your lips before lighting it. For a moment it all seems to stop, the only noises the background noise of the usual busy city, your thoughts, emotions all stopping for a moment before they come crashing right back, forcing you to your knees and sliding down the wall, sitting in silence as the cigarette continues blowing smoke into the air around you.

,,Morgan follow her'' Hotch orders, knowing they needed you on this case. ,,I don't think we should'' Penelope tries, knowing how hard the last few months have been for you. ,,With your permission, I'll do it'' Emily offers but he shakes his head, ordering them to finish this interview first, knowing how time was running out and they needed answers fast. ,,Give her whatever time she needs, let's finish this case first'' he orders, thinking it through and they all nod, before getting back to work, Emily's mind unable to think of anything other than you or your wellbeing.

They had been so busy with the case and catching the man responsible for this that by the time they return, neither of them due to the adrenaline had noticed that you never ended up joining them again. Hotch is the first one in his office and on the desk, he finds your gun, credentials and your resignation. He sighs, having expected his decision to cause consequences, knowing the emotional torture this had been for you. Emily lingers by his door, wanting to check in whether he had heard anything when she connects the dots. „No“ she whispers, already having a bad feeling from your prior behavior. Hotch looks at her, the guilt written across his face before he takes a deep breath. „I will give her a few days before I make this official, she can change her mind until then and we never speak of this again“ he says, knowing this was the only thing he could really do to help. „Thank you“ Emily sighs in relief, hoping sincerely she could find you and fix this by then.

The team waits by the cubicle desks, hoping for some information but as Emily returns and tells them, they simply look down, understanding your decision. The brunette is quick to gather her stuff, telling them not to worry and that she will figure this out. Before she can reach Penelope‘s office, hoping she could maybe share some insight on your whereabouts, Derek stops her. „Emily.. you gotta understand what Y/N went through“ he sighs before she gives him a questoning look. „Haven‘t you all went through the same?“ she questions before he shakes his head. „Not like her, she‘s been a wreck, I haven‘t seen her smile since, you know she has been sitting at your grave almost everyday?“ he asks snd this statement sends tears to her eyes, the usual strong and put together woman losing herself in the pain of his truth.

She simply nods, gesturing that she will figure this out. By the time she leaves the BAU for the night, Penelope having checked your phone and figuring you must simply be at home, sharing some insight on her suspicions snd how worried she had been about you, Emily‘s heart is both filled with anxiety and pain. She hated having to do this to her team but especially to you, not a day went past where she didn‘t think of you, hoping she could reach out and tell you it‘s all just a cruel joke. By the time she makes it to your apartment, the sky is pouring buckets on her, the occasional strike of lighting illuminating the dark sky and the sound of thunder crumbling in the background.

With caution she makes it to your apartment door, knocking gently before the knocks grow more desperate. You stumble towards the door, opening it without your usual care before laying eyes upon the woman responsible for your grief. „Y/N thank god“ she sighs in relief, her eyes scanning every single one of your features. And she could see it now, the pain behind your eyes, how thin you had become. „I“ she begins, unable to finish as you interrupt her. „I‘m sure your here to get Sergio, let me just grab him and his stuff“ you announce. By her puzzled reaction you should have known that she had no knowledge of you taking him for her yet, this definitely not the reason for her standing by your door in the middle of the night.

,,Y/N wait'' she pleads, grabbing your wrist so you can't leave her standing there. You turn around, avoiding her eyes as you wait for what she is about to say. ,,Can I please come in?'' she almost begs and by the desperation in her voice, you can't say no, never really being able to deny Emily of anything. You nod, allowing her to enter before you walk towards your living room. She stands there hesitantly, glancing at the empty bottles on the table, the empty medication wrappers laying around and the packet of cigarettes. She remains silent, unsure what to say and how to ever make you forgive her.

,,Drink?'' you ask as you gesture towards one of the bottles but she shakes her head, gesturing towards the sofa and you nod, making sure to take the opposite sofa across from her, unable to be anywhere near her as your feelings are all over the place. The thunder grumbles loudly in the distance, the lighting illuminating your apartment further before she begins speaking. ,,Y/N I'm so sorry'' she apologies, her voice sincere as she struggles to keep her emotions at bay. ,,I never meant to leave any of you but I had to'' she confesses. ,,Not a day went past when I didn't think of you'' she admits, for the first time addressing you directly rather than the team. You manage to meet her eyes at her statement, seeing the raw emotion in them, the honesty and the truth.

,,I care about you Y/N and I'm so sorry for hurting you and what you have been through'' she apologises again, her eyes glistening with tears as she takes in your state again. ,,Why didn't you tell me?'' you ask, speaking for the first time since having her back. ,,Why JJ?'' you blurt out, understanding why Hotch knew but unable to understand why she would have trusted the blonde over you after everything you had been through together. ,,She.. you know her position, she was the one able to get me the fake identities and make this whole thing possible'' Emily tries reasoning, sensing the frustration in your voice. ,,You know I have had your back for years Emily, I would have taken that secret to the grave, I could have helped you'' you blurt out, angrily reaching one of the cigarettes before lighting one in frustration.

There is a long moment of silence, the storm outside matching your emotions on the inside before Emily sighs. ,,Started again hm?'' she whispers, gesturing towards the cigarettes, knowing it had always been one of your vices in the past. ,,You have no idea what the last few months have been like'' you sigh. She stares at you before sighing again ,,I do'' she acknowledges. ,,I know you have sat at my grave everyday, I know you carried my coffin, I know you have been struggling but please let me help you'' she begs, glancing at the countless empty bottles and packets again. ,,Why do you care?'' you blurt out, the anger now very visible in your features.

,,Because I care about you.. more than you know'' she admits, letting her guard down in front of you. Her words take a while to register and before you can say anything, Sergio suddenly makes an appearance, jumping on the brunettes lap, greeting her with kisses and you can't help but smile at the picture of the two of them reuniting. He eventually settles beside her, curling up in a little ball as she focuses her attention back to you. ,,Please let me back in, I know I messed up but I will spent the rest of my days making it up to you'' she pleads and something in her statement finally causes you to break, the walls suddenly crumbling right in front of you as you fall apart on the sofa right in front of her.

The tears begin pouring, matching the rain outside before sobs wreck through your body. Emily's lips part in shock, her eyebrows knitting together seeing you like this. Without another thought, she lunges forward, kneeling down in front of you before taking you into her arms. You stifle at first, those arms having felt so familiar before and at the same time praying every day to be in her arms again for the past few months, before relaxing. Emily was back, Emily was safe and home and all you can feel in this moment is the grief of it all but her safe arms grounding you. Her own tears run down her cheeks but she still makes sure that her thumbs catch every single one of yours. ,,I'm so sorry honey'' she whispers as you continue falling apart in her arms, the weight and grief finally lifted off your heavy chest a little.

By the time your tears are dry, the sobs having subsided by now, you catch a glimpse of her eyes as she continues kneeling in front of you, her hands stroking gentle circles on your knees, a weak smile on her face, yet the worry remains. Suddenly you feel this urge to tell her, tell her all of the feelings you had been keeping in for so long, scared she would slip through your fingers again. And Emily can tell, the way your eyes dart between her own, the slight trembling of your hands and the face of realisation. ,,Emily I..'' you mumble, your emotions taking over you as you would have never told her in any clear state like this, especially after a night like this.

,,Y/N I know'' she whispers, a small smile on her features despite the pain of your truth written in her eyes. You search her eyes for any sign of disgust, of shame but all you can find is sadness between her brown orbs. You close your eyes and sigh, worried you had made a mistake, worried you had ruined whatever you may have left with her before her lips come crashing onto your own, the usual composed and careful woman not able to hold this back for a single moment longer. She had these feelings for so long and if Paris proofed anything to her, it was that she couldn't do life without you by her side. She had missed you every day, your smile, your silly jokes and needing you close to her. Tonight was all the confirmation she needed.

Your eyes force open, shocked by her actions before you relax, your lips moving in synch as your heart beats out of your chest. When the two of you pull away, a tear streams down both of your cheeks, as well as a small smile in the corner of your mouth. ,,I didn't know you..'' you whisper but she shakes her head gesturing you to shush. ,,I have known for a while, I have missed you so much darling and I don't want to do this without you, ever.'' she confesses. The night passes on, the storm eventually settling outside and in your chests as you lay in Emily's arms, the events from today having shocked you, not having expected any of this but her confession making your anger subside and hopeful for what was to come next.

,,You still wanna quit the BAU?'' she whispers with a smirk and you shake your head as you nuzzle closer into her chest. ,,Tomorrow morning, we'll go to Hotch together, alright trouble?'' she smirks, causing you to giggle into her as you nod. The brunette can feel you relaxing in her arms, assuming this must be the first night in months you would be able to get some actual sleep. She holds you throughout the night, not wanting to be anywhere else as she watches over you protectively, her arms involuntarily wrapping tighter around you. And she wasn't going to leave you ever again, not being able to stand being away from you.

[lxkeee]

TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN

-PART SIX

Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Seraphim Angel! Fem! Reader

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel

Genre: Angst (for now)

Warnings: Depression, swearing and mentions of self h*rm.

Notes: shit is about to go down.

PART ONE | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN | NAVIGATION

“I don't understand Michael sometimes, I guess it runs in the blood.” The angel of death muttered underneath his breath, Azrael sighs, running his hand through his dark black locks, feeling the soft strands of his hair in-between his fingers. He is annoyed, annoyed at how Michael didn't leave any room for [Y/n] to say no. Sure, Michael did make a bargain that if she wins rock-paper-scissors against him, he'll change his decision but [Y/n] sucks at rock-paper-scissors so she didn't have any chance of winning in the first place. Well, he guessed that this is Michael's way of winning against [Y/n] as the man is absolute shit when it comes to Monopoly.

Azrael is confused, why does Michael want [Y/n] to see her good for nothing husband? Azrael asked him about it and the man just told him to trust him, as it is what their dear creator has told him. He is confused why Michael is really pushing [Y/n] to see his twin brother. Azrael asked the man about it and he just looked away with a sad smile. Azrael knew how much it affected Michael that his twin brother was casted out of heaven. Despite him being one of the angels who voted for him to be casted out. Azrael knew how much of a tough decision Michael made. But still,

Bullshit. Absolute bullshit.

Azrael trusts God on his decision but he doesn't know if the outcome of this will be good, Azrael has been by [Y/n]'s side ever since Lucifer was being a neglectful asshole and he heard that the fallen angel got married again when in hell. How is he going to accept that his dear friend is going to get hurt again? Azrael knows how much pain Lucifer caused [y/n], how much pain it brought to Xavier. Goodness! He saw the poor boy trying to stab his own face with his own angelic weapon, thankfully he was there to stop him.

Azrael's shoulders slumped, already feeling more stressed than usual. He is worried, so worried about [Y/n]'s mental state as he knows how fragile it is. He knows how much shit she's going through, she's constantly trying to help cleanse earth from the constantly growing evil while maintaining to be kind and to add more to her plate, she has a son to take care of and now... She's about to take care of whatever the fuck is happening on hell?

His feet quickened its pace, speed walking the long hallways of the Seven Heavenly Virtues building, trying to reach [Y/n]'s floor and office, he would've immediately checked up on her after the meeting but he had some important matters to deal with and he prays that the poor girl didn't have a mental breakdown again. Which somehow, he feels like she already did. He hopes that he's wrong though.

His heels clicked against the gold marbled white tiles, rays of sunlight passing through the curtains giving the hallway an orange glow from the setting sun.

He finally reached her office, knocking against the wooden door. No answer. He sighs rather loudly. He knocks again. No answer.

“[Y/n]? It's me, Azrael. Are you alright?” He asked softly, pressing his ear against the door to listen if she answered him. None. He became worried.

Grabbing the spare key that he has—he has a key to everyone's room and office, don't ask how and why he has them. Anyways, inserting the key to the lock, twisting it and he finally heard the satisfying click.

He quickly pushed open the door, his worried and tensed shoulders relaxing once he finally saw her, asleep on her desk. Her head on the table, her body slouched uncomfortably.

He could see the tear stains on her cheeks, golden blood from her fingers. A rather bad habit of hers, she tends to pick the skin off the side of her nails when she's stressed and sometimes causes it to bleed.

Azrael smiled softly, allowing himself inside her office. He closed and locked the door behind him before he tiptoed across the room and finally beside her.

He kneeled down beside her so he's now face-to-face to her. Azrael admired her sleeping face, he loves it when she's at peace like this. He wants her to be happy. His eyes saddened, oh how he wished to give her the happiness she deserves. But it's truly unfortunate that she doesn't love him the same way he loves her.

Always the side character, never the romantic interest.

With a sigh, he gently lifted her up from her seat. Carrying her in his arms like a bride that he'll never have the chance to call as his.

[Y/n] groans when she felt that she was lifted off from her chair, she opened one to look at the person who woke her up. She saw Azrael looking down on her with an amused smirk.

“Come on, let's get you back to your room. You need some rest.” he says softly to her and she just groaned and he chuckled. A black and gold portal opened behind them and Azrael stepped inside with [Y/n] in his arms. The portal closed after they went in.

Azrael opened the portal back to her house and back to her room, he gently laid her on the bed. Making sure she didn't lie on her hair. Tucking her in comfortably.

“I don't know what I'll do without you, Azi... I wished that I could've loved you instead. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry.” she whispered, her voice breaking. She really wished that she fell in love with Azrael, he treated her and Xavier far better than Lucifer does but her heart remained still with Lucifer. Why? Why? WHY?! Why can't she fall in love with a perfect man that is in front of her but continue to love a man that is far away from her and probably doesn't give two shits about her and their son?

Azrael's eyes softened, a forced smile on his face. He tucks away a strand of her hair that is falling in front of her face, tucking it behind her ear. I really wished that too, I can treat you far better than him, is what he thought but decided not to say, “Don't apologize sweetheart, you really can't force a heart to reciprocate someone's feelings, no? And I can understand that. How about you take some rest and clear your mind hmm?” he suggested softly with a small smile, wiping away the tear that runs down her cheek. [Y/n] nodded, hiccuping slightly before eventually closing her eyes.

She was fast asleep the moment she did.

Azrael smiled and sighed, turning around on his heel as he walked out of her room, closing the door behind him. Walking away from someone he's not meant to be with. He just hoped that whatever God is doing is right.

Time flew by so quickly that [Y/n] didn't even notice, she was far too busy dealing with both Heavenly and Mortal realm matters. The root of evil is constantly growing and getting even more powerful on earth and the Seven Heavenly Virtues are trying to contain it. All seven of them were exposed to such horrors and so much evil while on earth, slowly threatening to consume them or even corrupt them.

[Y/n] limped back to her office in heaven, golden blood flowing off her side. She just finished her work on earth, she was trying to cleanse a root of evil when it suddenly changed direction and changed its direction towards her in immense speed and causing it to pierce her side. She managed to cut it down but the negativity from the root seeped into her wound, causing her healing powers to slow down.

She winced as she finally slumped down into her seat, hovering her hand over her wound, a golden glow radiating from her palm. The wound slowly closed, but not fully but enough that she can bandage it up. But the healing took too much of her energy and she felt she was about to pass out.

She opened one of the drawers of her desk, pulling out a medical kit and began treating her wounds. She winced as she tried to clean it. After so much struggle, she finally cleaned her wound.

[Y/n] leaned against her chair, almost passing out when her eyes landed on to the calendar that is in her office. Her eyes widened, “Today is the extermination day?!” she shrieked and quickly stood up from her seat, she hissed as pain quickly shot from her waist all throughout her body. She gripped into the table, her nails scratching the wood.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck... I forgot about that.” she muttered, trying to stabilize herself, “I hope I can stop Adam and the exorcists..” she muttered, pain still evident in her voice. Running her hands through her hair. Gripping into her locks in frustration.

Ah crap, I hope I don't pass out. She thought as she weakly opens a portal to hell. Composing herself before finally stepping inside the portal.

The first thing she noticed is Adam spewing out shit from his mouth, the hotel she heard about now destroyed, exorcists killing sinners. Anger fills her veins, her six wings puffing behind her and along with multiple eyes opened on her wings. She's beyond pissed, the audacity these angels have to perform an act without notice from the higher ups. Without thinking she summoned her second angelic weapon, a bow and arrow. Aiming it just beside Adam—a warning shot. Successfully catching his and the other's attention.

“Adam, respectfully please shut your mouth!” She ordered, her voice booming, glaring down on the people on the ground, specifically at the first man. She's far too angry to keep her attention on the back of her husband or ex-husband. There's a limit to how much an angel of kindness and healing can take, and unfortunately for Adam, this is Angel Raphael's breaking point.

“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” She sneered, her hand clenching tightly on to her bow, her fingers itching to fire another arrow and just finish the man.

“No... You don't get to end this.” Adam growled in pain, weakly standing up from the rubble of where he crashed, “I'm fucking Adam! I'm the fucking man!” he yelled, turning to look at Lucifer in anger, “And you're just some fucking clown or something!” Adam growled and Lucifer just stared at the man with a deadpan expression, not really paying attention.

“I started everything on earth! All of mankind came from these fucking nuts!” Adam exclaimed. They just stared at the man who's clearly pissed at the fact he lost.

Suddenly, an arrow shot just beside Adam, barely missing the first man. The golden arrow embedded on to the ground. Silence, as people were filled with awestruck. Adam was filled with fear.

“Adam, respectfully please shut your mouth!” A female voice boomed, her powerful and authoritative voice echoing in to the air. Goosebumps danced across Lucifer's skin, he knows that voice. The very voice that he didn't hear for so many years, the voice that kept haunting him. The haunting and guilt worsened after Charlie told him he had a son in heaven.

They turned around and looked up at the sky to see a very furious seraphim glaring down on them—specifically on the first man, Adam.

Lucifer's eyes were glued on her, she's so close yet so far away.

He admired her angelic form, he can practically feel her authority and power from where he stood. Despite all of this, despite how absolutely terrifying she looked. Her beauty never really scared him. She looked as beautiful as the day he lost her when he fucked up.

“Because if you don't, I will personally kill you myself.” [Y/n] added, her eyes glaring down on Adam, her power and strength can be felt through the air and they can tell that she is absolutely furious.

“Oh shit.” Adam muttered underneath his breath. His boss' boss is here.

END NOTES: SURPRISE UPDATE 🤯🤯 ANYWAYS, AZRAEL STANS HOW ARE WE FEELING TONIGHT?

TAGLIST I:

@valerie-36 @blackbleedingrose @adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata @kouyoumarryme @sxgacxbe @kooidoom @ok-boke @random-3455 @izzieg3987 @snoozewritezz @dreamzaremyrealityy @hcneyiced @witchbunny1210 @ghostdoodlen @aikobakugou @just-here-reading @dzhanett-blog @des-deswain5621 @cocomollo @haleypearce @onyxstarhigh06 @nirvana5874 @shaebutter-baby

[animeyanderelover]

Hello, I heard that your request box is now open and have an idea for a yandere reaction for a few for the Naruto fandom.

Yk how Sasuke/Itachi Uchiha had fangirls when they were kids/in their teens? How would the yanderes feel when their S/O had groups of fangirls/fanboys, wanting to be their partner, giving them gifts, wanna be train together, etc. With Yandere Asura, Indra, Izuna, Temari and Neji?

Tw: Yandere themes, possessive behavior, obsession, delusional mindset, paranoia, stalking, threats, manipulation, abduction

Tags: @shumidehiro @swagenemyartisan @cachamata

S/o has lots of fans

Otsutsuki Asura

🔳​Gosh, he is absolutely dying on the inside every single time your fans just swarm around you like bees around flowers. On the one hand Asura absolutely understands why you are so popular and beloved as he is in some way also a part of your fanclub but it is just so frustrating that he so rarely gets his chance to truly be left alone with you. There is a ton of competition as lots of people would love to be your significant other and he's not going to lie, his throat sometimes tightens when he sees all the gifts, the confessions and the affection you receive from others. He's always been labeled as the weak offspring who fails in comparison to his talented brother Indra and it is this gap in strength that will sometimes mess with him if this should be before he went on his father's quest in order for Hagoromo to figure out who the next head of the village should be. There are lots of other talented, kind and beautiful people in his village and Asura is humble enough to admit so himself. On the other hand it is also a sure way to motivate him to vie with your admirers for your adoration as he starts training harder, picks flowers for you on fields and tries to cook for you though he ends up burning a lot by accident.

🔳​His jealousy remains even once he finds himself in a relationship with you though he feels more secure by that point as he trusts his darling. If he's at that point already head of the village most people are probably going to respectfully step back though you probably still receive a lot of gifts and love letters. He takes it very well though, often likes to joke that you're probably more beloved than he is which he honestly wouldn't even mind since you are nothing short of amazing in his eyes. However, he doesn't like if someone ends up confessing to you and asking you to be their lover right in front of him. It's awkward and uncomfortable and only leaves him with the option to clear his throat as he tries to be mature only to very quickly end up arguing with the other person in a way very much reminiscent of a child with the way he pouts and whines. After such an encounter he always grows clingier and more affectionate, deeply upset that someone was bold enough to confess to you whilst fully knowing that you are already with him. Your popularity truly is a two-sided sword yet Asura refuses to revert back to being the same pathetic stalker he was in the past now that you're actually together with him-

Otsutsuki Indra

💜​Indra takes a very different approach than his brother as his patience is very thin and his possessive feelings for you very high. Once he has developed feelings for you he grows very quickly rather possessive over you and all of it is only sped up due to the adoration and love you're frequently showered with due to all of your silly admirers. This entire commotion is a waste of time in Indra's eyes as those people behave as if they were a sorry excuse of a circus trying to entertain you and gain your attention. On every single occasion Indra has made short work of them, always interfering their pathetic attempts to woo you and scaring them away with a scorching glare and equally searing threats before turning his wrath to you with a deep scowl on his face. Why would you even entertain such good-for-nothings? If any of them ever even dare to ask you to train with them he quickly shows them just how unfit they are to even consider such an outrageous thought, his opponents always left bloody by the end of it. At one point he starts claiming your entire time for himself, keeping you by his side and isolating you from others to calm his own burning possessive feelings down.

💜​After Hagoromo doesn't acknowledge him though that previous arrogance he always had turns into an inferno of paranoia and jealousy he did not possess before. Indra projects his hurt on you as he starts believing that you would abandon and leave him as well and it is that thought that drives him to abduct you. It is likely that he might also murder some of your most persistent admirers who've always gotten on his nerves the most, people who he actually somewhat acknowledged and for that now views as the biggest threats who may steal you from him. It is after the abduction that Indra at the very least finds some semblance of peace again as he knows that there are no fans anymore who could get on his nerves and it eases his possessive urges somewhat. Yet his ego has been forever damaged which leads to you having to be very delicate as Indra needs a long time to get over the shock of being betrayed by his father and his brother. Every time you defy him as well he lashes out, spits angry accusations that you probably miss being swooned over and being spoiled by those weaklings in the village. Too unfortunate for you though because he'll never let you go back.

Uchiha Izuna

🔹​For Izuna it will depend on whether your admirers are also Uchiha or not as he is someone who only believes in the good of his own clan which means that he would be much harsher and scarier with your fans if they should not belong to his clan. There will be only disrespect and intimidation as he would never allow his darling to choose anyone but him, especially if your other choice should be someone who is not an Uchiha. After all the young man is deep down quite a prideful warrior though he can be very charming and sweet around you as well. If your fans were to be Uchiha, Izuna is inclined to be more merciful though he still expects them to know their place, especially since he's the younger brother of Madara and one of the strongest fighters. Now, obviously the Uchiha feel quite intense which is why your admirers might be more persistent if they were to be of the same clan as he is, leading to potentially more conflict though Madara is going to fully support his younger brother once he's aware of Izuna's feelings. Sometimes there is a sense of satisfaction though knowing that you're so desired which would make it all the more satisfying once he claims you.

🔹​Once you are officially Izuna's darling he is going to be less tolerant of your admirers antics. Any gifts you receive he expects you to reject on the spot or throw away later. None of them are going to be kept and if you try to still keep them he is going to burn them before turning to you with a disappointed glare on his face. He's the only one whose gifts you are allowed to keep. One's ego can never be boosted enough though so it happens that Izuna takes you with him on a stroll through the streets simply to bask in the jealousy of the other people who can only silently murmur and glare at him with envy as his arm is wrapped around your waist. It is this jealousy that results in that smug look on his face, knowing that he managed to court you and make you his though you had so many other admirers. It's not always fun though, especially if someone still believes to have any chances with you even though you now belong to Izuna. In such cases you always know better, quickly stepping away from them to not displease Izuna all whilst said man is already busily glowering at them, irritated that they still don't understand. Perhaps they need a reminder of why he is the only choice for you.

Temari

🌪️​Temari is very much a no nonsense person so she is going to be irritated with your little fanclub long before she is even in a relationship with you. Temari isn't a very jealous person as she is a confident lady but it is very agitating to see the shinobi of her village courting you instead of training to get stronger. She wants the best of her village as she is aware that Sukunagakura didn't always have the best reputation amongst other villages and she is very determined to change that. So it isn't even jealousy but disappointment and frustrating anger that the shinobi who swore to protect the village now have nothing better to do than trailing behind you, swooning over you like fools and spending their money on presents instead of training to sharpen their skills. Worst of all is that you suffer from their infatuations as well, always stopped from training properly which is the point where Temari storms in like a hurricane and scolds all of them harshly for behaving in such an unsightly way. Her irritation even reaches you as she reprimands you for being too polite to your fans all the time instead of making your disinterest very clear as you instead gave them always hope.

🌪️​It is in an actual relationship that she gets more possessive. It's basic etiquette to respect it if someone is already in a relationship with another and it is then that she truly figures out who the true idiots are, too desperate to give up on you. She expects you to inform you as soon as anyone of them even dares to suggest that you could still choose them and leave her. She doesn't let Kankuro or Gaara help her, firm in her decision to deal with this problem herself as she is the one in a relationship with you and it is her job to protect you. She is more than capable of doing that in this situation. There is no kindness your admirers still going after you can expect from Temari either, her entire face an angry mask and her words brash and abrasive. Are they not ashamed of themselves? There is no respect given to those people, their display of desperation nothing short of pathetic and unfitting for the shinobi of the village. On some days she is in such little mood to deal with your fans that she asks of you to stay at home for the day. She is going to make sure that all of them learn their lession though. They can admire you but they cannot try to be your lover.

Hyuga Neji

🕊️​You absolutely deserve to be loved and cherished yet it isn't even the fact that you have fans but more the unsavory way that some of them behave that enrages Neji so much. They're loud, they scream your name and ignore your discomfort as they are pushy. Such people he finds himself actively despising the most and especially when he notices that you're uncomfortable does he get protective and scare them away with a stern glare and a few simple threats. Most of the time Neji is not jealous though as he would never view people with no behavior as rivals as they are nothing more than inconveniences he wishes to remove from your life. He doesn't mind those who show their admiration in more respectable ways by gifting you stuff though he observes such actions very closely as he makes shameless use of his Byakugan in such situations. His confidence remains largely intact though, secure in his knowledge that he is still going to love you better and treat you like you deserve to be treated. He prefers to do so in the Hyuga compound though where people who aren't part of the clan aren't allowed in unless with permission, giving him the chance to focus only on you and vice versa.

🕊️​The possessive urge to let your fans know that you are his sometimes gets the better of Neji even though he deems himself about such urges. Yet it can't be helped when he watches as they still try to capture your attention before he steps gracefully in, his hands holding yours as he presses a kiss against your forehead before white eyes glance at your fans with the silent but clear warning that you are his and that they should know their place. With his Byakugan he is able to easily avoid them as he guides you throuh Konoha and away from your fans yet he finds himself worried about the persistence some of them show which is why he starts keeping you more and more to himself in the Hyuga compound where their presence can't vex him as much as it would have outside of the district. It's in here that he truly feel like the two of you are finally in your own world where he can focus fully on you and you can do the same. It's not like Neji believes your fans to ever harm you but he fears that they might find you when he isn't there and make you uncomfortable without him being able to help you. It's this smothering worry that leads you to be isolated even though Neji only wants to do the best for you.

[sukunasbow]

sfw hcs, the specialists.

summary: the specialists and sfw hcs!

warnings: fairy!reader and not fully proof read yet!

notes: i know winx probably doesn’t have much of a fandom on here but honestly this show gives me so much nostalgia so enjoy!

sky ✿

sky spoils you so much, he treats you like a princess, which is ironic considering he’s a prince.

to him, you’re his world, he’d never do anything to hurt you and he loves you so much.

sometimes, when the two of you are relaxing together, he lets you style his slightly long hair.

speaking of relaxing together, that’s one of his favourite dates, when the two of you just spend time at a cafe, getting a break from the chaotic fairy and specialist duties you usually deal with.

brandon ✿

you were one of the few people to first know that sky and brandon switched names. brandon wanted to be completely honest about the switch and you understood due to sky’s feelings about wanting to try a normal lifestyle.

literally the sweetest boyfriend ever, he treats you so good. he’s so gentle and loving with you, your heart melts every time you’re with him.

he doesn’t get jealous that often and neither do you, the two of you trust each other and have a relationship that’s really built on honesty and loyalty.

riven ✿

no one would’ve thought the two of you would get together, as riven has a high temper and you pretty much have no temper, always calm and relaxed. in fact, the only people that suspected something was going on with the two of you were bloom and sky, they always took notice of the flirty comments and subtle touches between the two of you. however, ever since you’ve announced your relationship with the hotheaded specialist, you’ve been extremely happy with him, and your friends started relaxing exactly how much sense the two of you make.

you’re a balanced couple that occasionally has rough patches, as riven can get really jealous and insecure, but you guys always make it out and your love grows even more. riven loves you and never wants to make you feel less than appreciated.

his favourite date with you consists of literally anything that involves you two being near each other, but he especially loves when you and him help your friends defeat the newest villain. he also loves when you cuddle with him, as he’s really just a softie deep down, constantly wanting to be touching you. he’s a huge fan of pda, unless you’re uncomfortable with it.

helia ✿

you and helia go together so well, no one was surprised when the two of you made your relationship official. your both calm and loving people, quickly becoming one of the best couples out of your friend group.

you love his hair so much. he just lets you run your fingers through his hair and style it into stupid little ponytails and buns, the man not even complaining about it, actually secretly enjoying it.

he’s literally the best boyfriend. he is always at your side when you need comfort and he gives you all his love.

timmy ✿

it took a while for timmy to build up the courage to ask you out, but once he did, you happily said yes.

the two of you are the definition of ‘opposites attract.’ you’re outgoing and a social butterfly, compared to timmy, who’s shy and doesn’t talk to many people aside from his friends.

he isn’t a big fan of pda, but behind closed doors, he’s always wanting to be close to you.

[nothingbutsweetwords]

ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴏɴ, ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ'ꜱ ᴅᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ

ᴀᴇᴍᴏɴᴅ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ!ɴɪᴇᴄᴇ

"...ᴛʜᴇɴ ꜰᴀʟʟ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛᴏɢᴇᴛʜᴇʀ."

Word count: 3000.

Fandom: House of the Dragon.

Pairing: Aemond x Reader!Velaryon!Niece.

Warnings: Angst, mention of injury, medical procedures.

HOLDING — 6. Him.

The days had become an endless parade of maesters, and his company had been reduced to their constant presence and that of his mother. The few hours he managed to spend alone vanished into a pit of lethargy, lying on the cold bed, too drowsy to engage in any activity. Pain, a constant intruder, forced him to rely on the milk of the poppy for any relief, as small as it might be.

Several days passed since the grand maester, with a worried face, began to show signs of alarm at his condition. However, he was too weakened to interpret his look. His body, in a terrifying contrast, burned while his skin bristled with cold, and his left eye, swollen and red, struggled to heal despite the scar that crossed it progressing slowly.

“We need to remove the eye, your grace” the maester had informed his mother, in a grave and urgent tone. “The eye is becoming infected. We have tried everything to prevent it, but it is useless.”

He heard his mother’s sobs as she held his hand. He didn’t need to ask what had to be done; the answer was clear and painful.

“When will you do it?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.

“As soon as possible. It’s a risky procedure, and there is a chance that…” He shook his head. “But if we don’t do it, the infection will keep growing, and there will be no turning back.”

“Very well” Alicent said, nodding as she braced herself, though her eyes were still full of tears. “My son is strong, he can endure this.”

“Yes, your grace.”

He started to see things that weren’t there, his mind distorting reality in a feverish delirium. He moved restlessly on the uncomfortable stretcher in the Grand Maester’s room. The old man gave him more milk of the poppy, mixed with other herbs in a steaming tea. As he drank it, he slowly sank into a restless sleep, not deep enough to drown out the suffering.

The pain of the original wound paled in comparison to the agony of the procedure. He was sure his screams could be heard in the farthest alley of King’s Landing, but he was unable to contain them. His chest broke with each cry, and time stretched into an endless torture. The intervention, a macabre dance of pain and resistance, seemed to last for eternal hours, and his body couldn’t withstand it, collapsing before it was all over.

The room was in dim light as he began to regain awareness. A dull pain throbbed on the left side of his face. The bandage pressed tightly against his skin, covering the empty space where his eye once was, while a persistent dizziness kept him on the verge of unconsciousness. The air, filled with the scent of different remedies, did little to mask the underlying stench of blood and suffering.

His mother was there, as she had been every day since the attack, sitting by his side with eyes red from crying. Noticing him stir, she took his hand tenderly, her voice breaking in whispered words of encouragement. However, he could barely process her words, his mind shrouded in a dense fog of confusion.

“You’re safe now, my son. The maesters say the procedure was a success” she said, trying to hold back tears. “The Mother has heard my prayers.”

With a blend of incredulity and resignation, his mother mentioned that the princess had opted to accompany them back to King’s Landing. Skeptical that a young lady would forsake her family to be there, and she had warned him of the risk it entailed, urging caution; if a brother could act thus, why not she? He lacked the strength and resolve to let her know she was wrong.

His mother did not fully understand the reason, ignorant of what had driven her to be there, but he did. He knew, deep within his being, that she had come for him. His heart, which had been steeped in despair, began to beat with the intensity of that first real encounter in the library so many moons ago.

However, the endless days without news of her had plunged him into anguish, making him doubt his own sanity. The conversations with his mother, which once had been a source of comfort, turned into a constant torment. Where was she? And why hadn’t she come?

Every movement was torture. Lifting his head from the pillow caused intense dizziness, and every deep breath sent stabs of pain through his skull. And if before the operation he had felt overwhelmed by the presence of the maesters, in that moment he was completely suffocated.

They came and went, insisting on the need to monitor his progress. Each day, they carefully removed the bandage, exposing the sensitive flesh to the dim light of the room. They applied ointments that burned like liquid fire and cleaned the wound, the sharp pain of these treatments a cruel reminder of his new reality. The fever was a persistent enemy, alternating between chills that made him shiver uncontrollably and sweats that soaked his clothes and sheets.

The bitter substance remained his ally, dulling the pain just enough to allow him to rest, yet never fully erasing the suffering.

Only when the sun set completely did they leave him in peace, with a jug full of the familiar infusion, and the promise to return at dawn.

And like every night, he opened the rear door, hoping to catch a glimpse of her face, waiting for her arrival, only to close it with the last ounce of his energy, enveloped in profound disappointment. Had it all been another cruel illusion, a fever-induced hallucination?

The following days were just like the ones before, a blend of pain and drowsiness. Sometimes, the pain became unbearable, and his cries filled the room, his strength sapped by the constant battle between torment and the sedatives that kept him in a fragile balance, barely afloat.

And although he deeply valued the newfound closeness with his mother—a relationship previously limited to meals and sermons—his heart desperately yearned for her. His mother's eyes, full of worry and love, were a great comfort, a light amidst the distress, but even that devotion did not ease her absence, one that could not be filled by anyone else.

Daily, as he shared moments with his mother, he hinted at his desire for visitors, without daring to name her directly. The response was always the same: if anyone wished to see him, she would let him know. But for now, he needed to conserve his strength and rest.

But that night, despite the pain that enveloped him like a blanket of thorns, a flash of happiness that had abandoned him in recent days—leaving him in his solitary room, steeped in deep melancholy—appeared out of nowhere, like a ray of sunshine piercing his dark reality. That night, against all odds, he saw her sweet face again, though marked by sadness and worry, she was there, present, tangible, an almost unreal vision in the somber castle.

In that moment, she was there, in his arms, whispering that she had tried to see him every day, that her desire to be by his side had never faltered. That confession was like a new anesthesia, a wave of immense calm that spread throughout his being. Helaena had heard his prayers, and his princess had responded to his call.

A silence full of meaning reigned in the room, his pain easing with each calm breath he heard from her. He didn't want to ruin the moment or exploit his weakened state and her compassion to obtain an easy forgiveness, but he needed to get it off his chest and ensure it wouldn’t be a stumbling block for them later.

"I'm sorry" he whispered, his voice trembling, slowly stopping his caresses in her soft hair.

"What are you sorry for, Aemond?" she asked softly, though her voice reflected the tension of someone who fears hearing the answer. He wondered for a moment if she was even aware, but he continued anyway.

"I said some things that... It was never my intention to insult you" he said, trying to find the right words to offer her a sincere apology. He felt her tense, almost imperceptibly. Her breath hitched for a few seconds at his confession, yet she did not move from his chest.

"It was a... mistake. And I do not blame you for it, you were just trying to defend yourself."

"I shouldn't have..." the remorse weighing down every word.

"I know it won't happen again" she said, interrupting him in a manner that brooked no argument. "Let's not talk about this anymore" her voice a bit firmer, though her sweetness remained. He could do nothing but accept, though he still felt guilty.

The room returned to silence, though somewhat more tense. He resumed his gentle caresses on her disheveled curls, each movement of his hand releasing more of her typical sweet scent of roses, easing his tension, and helped him relax. A few minutes passed before her breathing became slower and more regular, falling into a deep sleep, and dragging him along with her.

He briefly wondered why his mother had forbidden her visits, but soon dismissed any speculation. He knew she believed she was acting in his best interest, thinking he needed rest and peace, not knowing that a single glance at her face would alleviate his pain more effectively than a hundred doses of the best remedy ever could.

That night, with the princess nestled against his chest and her arms holding him with infinite tenderness, he felt hope blossom again in his heart. The darkness completely dissipated with each synchronized breath, replaced by the warm certainty that, no matter what, he would not be alone. And the sweet promise of a better dawn arose anew.

Over time, the sharp pain began to subside. A sensation of emptiness and pressure appeared in the place where his eye once was. The fever slowly abated, and the maesters seemed more optimistic in their assessments. The wound was healing, slowly but steadily, and his body started to regain some of its former strength.

His body, weakened by fever, rest, and interventions, required careful and constant rehabilitation, the maesters had said. Walking, something he once did without thinking, became a monumental challenge. At first, even getting out of bed was a test of endurance. His legs, once strong and agile, now seemed weak and shaky, as if they might fail under the weight of his own body. The maesters offered him a cane for support, which he proudly refused, and his mother was always nearby, ready to hold him if he faltered.

Every step was a struggle against dizziness and lack of balance. Without the vision in his left eye, his perception was distorted. He had to do recommended exercises, such as walking in a straight line and performing slow, controlled movements. These sessions, though exhausting, began to strengthen his muscles and restore some of his lost confidence.

However, physical recovery was only part of the battle. Days turned into weeks, and another kind of hurt gave him no respite. 

The weight of loss continued to crush his spirit. Afternoons were the worst, as darkness began to fall, enveloping him, and the loneliness became unbearable. Everyone else was training, attending classes, fulfilling their duties, while he remained there, a prisoner. He would close his eye, wishing he could go back to being his old self, or at least imagine it, but the void remained, relentless and omnipresent, and every time he passed by his mirror, he avoided looking at his reflection, fearing to face the image of his own mutilated face.

Returning to combat training was an even greater challenge. The first time he held his sword, he felt a mix of relief and irritation. The familiar weight of the weapon in his hand was comforting, but every movement felt clumsy and unbalanced. Exercises that he once performed with grace were now arduous and erratic.

Criston Cole, the young guard with infinite patience, became his guide on this difficult journey. He taught him new training methods to compensate for the loss of his eye. Balance exercises were essential, standing on one foot, shifting weight from one foot to the other, and slow movements with the sword, all aimed at strengthening his stability.

They worked on improving his depth perception, something crucial for any swordsman. He was made to practice with fixed targets, the straw dummies. Cole would have him approach and retreat until he could better judge distances. At first, his strikes were imprecise, and his frustration grew with each failure. But slowly, with patience and determination, he began to improve.

The first sparring sessions were exhausting. Each bout was a bitter confrontation with his new reality, often ending with him on the ground, his pride as wounded as his body. However, she said that each fall was also a lesson, an opportunity to learn and adapt, and a victory on his path to recovery. He began to adjust his movements, relying more on his instinct and the feel of the sword moving through the air.

Despite everything, the constant presence of his mother, the nightly visits from his princess, and the tireless efforts of the maesters began to bear fruit. The scars, both visible and invisible, were now a part of him, hardening his spirit, and marking the beginning of a new stage in his life. A stage that, although painful and full of challenges, was also a testament to his resilience and ability to survive even the hardest trials.

He still remembered the night of the accident with unsettling clarity. The pain, the sudden darkness, and the fear that had wrapped around him like a suffocating shroud. Yet beyond the despair, he had found a new resolve. He would not be defined by it.

Over time, his body began to respond better to training. His balance improved, and although he would never regain full vision, his perception sharpened. He learned to use the field of vision he had left more effectively, moving with renewed caution and precision.

Although his movements still showed signs of his arduous journey, he had regained enough skill to face an opponent with confidence. Finally, the day came when he felt strong enough for a real practice duel. Aegon was his opponent, who seemed indifferent to the fact that he was still recovering. Everyone watched with expectant hearts. 

The duel was intense, each strike resonating with the force of his determination. He lost, but he did not feel defeated. He had proven, especially to himself, that he could still fight, that he could still be the warrior he had promised to be. His loss, far from being a sign of weakness, had become a symbol of his strength and perseverance.

However, his life did not revolve solely around the sword. There was a constant, warm presence that filled all his nights and, slowly, his days as well.

They had resumed their visits to the library. She had encouraged him to take up reading again. When she noticed his eye beginning to tire, she would take his book into her hands, setting her own aside, and read aloud. He could not complain about that, as her sweet voice turned any book into a masterpiece full of colors and nuances. 

He had also helped her immerse herself in the world of their mother tongue, High Valyrian. He was pleased to say that his princess was as intelligent as she was beautiful, learning with a speed he never had in his time. 

But their encounters in the library were limited to that, as the shadow of his guard, by order of his mother, never left him except to sleep, and they couldn’t help but feel withdrawn, observed. Now, in the comfort of his room, in the solitude of the night and away from any prying eyes, they could open up. They were under the covers, each in their place, facing each other, whispering their confidences.

“Your nameday is coming up” she said, looking at his face, still covered by a bandage. The maesters had provided him with a patch, but he still couldn’t get used to the discomfort of the hard material, which was irritating against his scar and didn’t completely cover it. So, during the nights, he still required the soft linen bandage. The maesters had not dared to ask why he didn’t just sleep without anything.

At first, it had caused him some inhibition that she looked at his face so attentively, as if memorizing every feature. He used to lie on his back to try to spare her any glimpse of the left side of his face, and she never questioned him nor asked otherwise. It was he who, over time, realized that there was no safer place than there, with the princess who had set everything aside to be with him and accompany him, though he still wasn’t ready to reveal himself completely.

“Yes, it's true” he said, remembering. His mind had been too pained and preoccupied. He had come to think that he would never get better or that it was something he would never overcome, so any form of celebration hadn’t even crossed his mind. But now, with his princess in front of him, his physical wound healed, and his gait almost restored, the idea began to excite him.

“I’m sure your father will throw a grand feast in your honor, to celebrate you and your recovery.” He almost laughed at the thought, certainly far from reality.

“I do not believe so. The king has never hosted a feast for me” he replied softly, and though he still felt some sadness over the strained relationship with his father, he set it aside. “Besides, I’d prefer something more modest.”

“I promise I will make it special” she vowed, and he believed every word. What he couldn't bring himself to express was that each day with her presence beside him was special.

@callsignwidow @helaenaluvr @purplegardenwhispers @scarletbedlam @squidscottjeans @woodlandwrites @oh-you-mean-me @fics-i-love-and-recommend

[froggywritesstuff]

rest | yandere!asmodeus

ship/pairing: Yandere!Asmodeus x g/n!reader

fandom: Helluva Boss

request: anon: yandere asmodeus

warnings: yandere, kidnapped reader, too many pet names (reader gets called darling, sweetie, honey, and baby), forced close proximity, unwanted touching (not sexual), unhealthy relationship, not proofread

word count: 710

A/N: i'm so very tired rn.  i do not in any way support yandere behaviour, please know that this writing is purely fictional, and should not ever be reenacted in real life

You glare at the door in front of you, debating running away and back to the comfort of your own bed. No, comfort wasn’t the right word. Your mattress felt unusually hard tonight, and the sheets felt like sandpaper grinding against your skin. Your blankets were too hot and you felt suffocated underneath them, but that wasn’t nearly as bad as the uncomfortable sensation you got from sleeping without any covers. After an eternity of contemplation, you will yourself to lift your hand to the door, your knuckle knocking against the wood. Regret immediately hits you as the sound rings through your ears, but you stay still. It’s been too long since you got a good night's sleep and you weren’t gonna let an overgrown chicken stop you from getting that. You’re not letting your guard down, and you’re not letting yourself forget about the monster he really is. The love he claims to shower you with is nothing but poison he decorates with food dye and glitter. And you won’t fall for it, no matter what.

”What’s the matter darling?” he opens the door and you reluctantly crane your neck upwards to meet his eyes.

”I can’t sleep.” you say simply, hands clinging onto your pyjama shirt.

You don’t miss the way his smile widens ever so slightly, before he asks, “Do you wanna sleep in my bed?” he pushes his door open further, allowing you to get a look at his bed. Your body has never felt as exhausted as it does when you see his bed. It’s just so big and fluffy, and the blankets are so soft, you feel like they’re calling to you, telling you to come sleep.

The thought of saying no and marching back to your own room crosses your mind more than once, but you genuinely don’t think you have the energy to do that right now. Nodding your head, you remind yourself of all the shit he’s put you through, you just really want a good sleep. You’re not falling in love with him like he’s so convinced you eventually will and you never will, you know that. 

“Is everything alright with your bed sweetie? Anything you need fixed?”

“I dunno I just couldn’t sleep.” you shrug, frustrated over how genuine his voice sounded.

He grabs your shoulders, leading you to the bed, "Well not to worry darling, you're always welcome to sleep in my bed."

You know that. Not a day went by when he wasn't reassuring you that there wasn't any pressure to sleep with him, and that he trusted you to grow comfortable with him in your own time. Though apparently not enough to not kidnap you. You keep reminding yourself of that whenever you catch yourself thinking about how nice he treats you. Or whenever you find yourself wanting to believe him when he tells you how much he loves you. 

The bed as you suspected is comfortable as fuck. The soft sheets and blankets gently hug your body, and you can feel yourself sinking into the mattress. It's almost enough to make you forget about your captor lying next to you. Almost.

"You comfortable honey?" his voice rings through your ear, making you aware of just how close he is.

Shuffling over to further the distance between you, you sigh, ”I hope you know I’m only doing this for your bed, this has nothing to do with you.”

”I know.” he answers nonchalantly, making your chest tighten with frustration.

You sit up, staring at him with the coldest glare you can muster, ”I just want it absolutely clear that I’m exhausted yet I took like, ten minutes standing in front of your door, contemplating sleeping in the same bed as you.”

”You’re adorable baby.” he says tiredly, laughing softly as if this were just some joke. His hand gently but firmly pushes you back down to the bed, done with the ease of moving a pillow. You go to make yourself more comfortable on the bed, but feel Ozzie's hand pull you against his much larger body.

Before you can even begin to struggle, you're trapped between him and his arm, as his mumbled voice softly speaks to you, "Get some rest darling. I love you."

[rapunzellovesbooks]

The entitlement some people feel over Luke Newton´s career is baffling to me. Like, people out here saying "Oh, he has not milked the success of Bridgerton enough, his time has passed" or "He played his cards wrong" is just... wrong. Like, I get it, compared to Nicola, in the past few months, she has been much more active on social media than him, but can you actually blame him? Yall saw one picture where he was clearly uncomfortable, running away from the paparazzi and destroyed him online. Then he went on a vacation after months of press (and God knows which auditions, jobs or fittings on the side) and made it seem like he was committing a crime. Then he posts about a trip to Spain and some of you go call the hotel to check who he was with. If I were him, I would not post anything online ever again, because there is no winning, is there? He commented on one of Nicola´s post and she had to delete the awful comments people left. All because of what? A picture taken out of context with a girl who is not Nicola. News flash, people are allowed to have other people in their lives, romantically or otherwise. And to the people thinking that he did it to disentangle himself from Nicola, what drugs are you on? Like, he was holding so tight to her the night before, so excited for the premiere of Part 2, always praising her and looking at her with love in his eyes, even when no cameras were on them. I bet if people had not haunted him on social media he would have posted bts, or shared funny edits but the toxic fandom made it impossible for him to do so in real time. Because, apparently, to some people, if he had posted about Nicola while not being officially together with her, that is leading them astray. Umm, what?

And then you have the idea that he is not working. Nicola literally signed off to do Magic Faraway Tree before Part Two and has a small role in it, and the rest of her work has been in fashion. He went to fashion shows as well. Both of them are signed to Season 4 of Bridgerton and from what we have heard, they have quite a big part in it. If it took them 8 months to do their season, I can, at least, see them being there for maybe 4 or 5 months of shooting. That is work. Going to rehearsals and fittings is work. They literally get paid for that. It is astounding to me that Nicola has no future projects lined up yet, same as him, but everyone is on his ass for the same thing he has been doing for years, work in private. Now, I am a shipper, I do believe they will be together eventually, but I genuinely do not understand how that has anything to do with people trashing him for his upcoming projects. He may not have found the project he wants to do or is waiting to share info. Also, I bet you Nic or him would have shared a picture of going back to set already if some fans weren´t analysing pixels on screens.

I do feel like there is a double standard here, because if Nicola had done the same, gone on vacation or been photographed with a random guy, everyone would have been like "Good for her, etc.". She gets on the Top 100 List for, honestly, being more present online with the work she does, but there are so many people who do great work who are not and will never be on that list. If Luke had gotten on it, some people would be so mad at him, I just know it.

I just miss them together and I have to blame the toxic fans for not seeing them together anymore. I do not doubt they have been in contact since, I mean, this whole ordeal happened because we are so obsessed with their connection, they must have talked about that infamous day, but also, I think some fans are creating stories of them not talking or growing apart that are just hurtful. Even before the world tour, they did not see each other every day, they do not have to speak every day for them to have a great bond. They simply cannot share it online anymore or, at least he can´t, because people over dissect every thing, even if it is just a smiley. Taylor Swift was framed with the whole Kanye thing years ago and she disappeared for a year. She was still doing stuff and seeing friends but we just never knew about it. And I get it.

It hurts me so much to see a genuinely nice and kind guy who did an amazing job as Colin get so many negative comments over nothing. Every time Nic does something, people throw it directly in his face. Oh, he was not at the Emmys. Oh, he was not at a fashion show. Maybe he does not want to be?! Maybe he couldn´t? Does Zendaya have to be everywhere with Tom Holland? Like, what?!

#lukola #nicluke #lukenewton #nicolacoughlan

[giannan04]

Hi, can you please do a fluff featuring Han Jisung x Chubby Fem. Reader? Reader feels insecure about her body so Han makes her feel loved🥰

Of course! I’m on the chubbier side myself so I can definitely relate. I hope you like it🥹💕

You were lounging in your room, boredom settling in as the rain tapped softly against your window. The day had been long, and you found yourself caught in a cycle of self-doubt. You've been feeling insecure for the past few months. It started ever since you went with your boyfriend, Jisung, on his band's world tour. Stays, the group's fandom, were so beautiful, and you began to compare yourself to them. You even started to wonder why Jisung chose you as his girlfriend out of all the pretty girls he could have chosen.

The sound of the doorbell interrupted your thoughts, and you sluggishly got up to answer it. As you opened the door, you saw a small package lying on the welcome mat. Your heart fluttered—this was the delivery you'd been waiting for. You had ordered a bunch of new clothes online, hoping that the clothes would make you feel better about yourself. Maybe, just maybe, this new clothing would be the change you needed.

You carried the package inside, feeling excited as you carefully opened it. Inside were a few new items you had picked out: a crop top, some jeans, and a dress. You decided to try them on, hoping that the new styles might put your insecurities to rest.

First, you slipped into the crop top. It was a sexy black halter top. You smiled, anticipating how sexy you were going to look. However, as you looked in the mirror, your excitement quickly turned to disappointment. The top fit tightly, drawing attention to your stomach. Also, the top was cut way too short. You knew it was a crop top, but this one revealed too much belly. Your stretch marks, which you had been trying to ignore for as long as you could remember, seemed more noticeable than ever. The sight of the unsightly lines on your stomach brought tears to your eyes as you traced them with your fingers. You tugged at the fabric of the top, hoping it would hide the things you felt insecure about, but it only made them more visible. Sighing heavily, you took the top off and tossed it aside.

Next were the jeans. You squeezed into them, but they felt constricting, especially around your thighs. The way they clung to you seemed to accentuate the very areas you were self-conscious about. You stared at your reflection, feeling a pang of frustration as the jeans pulled and creased in all the wrong places. They made your thighs look even bigger than usual. You quickly removed them, adding them to the growing pile of discarded clothes.

Finally, you tried on the dress. It was a beautiful light pink sundress, but it did nothing to make you feel better. It hugged your curves in ways that made you uncomfortable, highlighting the acne on your chest and shoulders as it did so. Tears welled up in your eyes as you looked at yourself in the mirror, feeling overwhelmed and disgusted by the sight. You had hoped these clothes would make you feel better, but they only magnified your insecurities. You felt worse than ever, your self-esteem plummeting.

Feeling defeated, you threw the clothes back into the box and shut it with a snap. You were going to return these clothes as soon as possible. You sat back on your bed, scrolling through social media for a distraction. But as you flicked through Instagram, the flawless images of influencers and models with perfect skin and slim bodies only intensified your insecurity. The comparisons were relentless, and you couldn't shake the thought that Jisung, your boyfriend, might feel the same way. Did he wish he were with someone who looked more like those models? Was he ashamed of you? The idea kept picking at you, deepening your self-doubt. You threw your phone on the ground and buried yourself in your covers, bawling. You weren't sure how long you'd been crying, but it must've been a while as you heard Jisung walking in the front door. He always left the studio late.

"Y/n? I'm home," he called. You stayed silent. You were afraid that if you opened your mouth, he would be able to hear that you had been crying.

Jisung kept calling your name until he reached the bedroom. "Hi, babe," he smiled when he saw you, running over to give you a kiss, which you returned half-heartedly.

Jisung knew something was wrong. He was always able to sense when you were upset. He looked at your face, immediately noticing your wet cheeks. It was obvious to him that you'd been crying. "Hey, what's wrong?" he asked, his voice filled with concern.

You opened your mouth to say something, but you found yourself sobbing uncontrollably. "I'm not enough," you cried. "You deserve someone prettier, someone skinnier. Why did you choose me out of all the girls you could have had?" You placed your hands in your face, sobbing.

Jisung's expression softened with sadness as he reached out to gently cup your face. "Listen to me," he said, his voice tender. "You are more than enough. You're beautiful just the way you are, and I love every part of you." The warmth of Jisung's hands on your face didn't even make you feel better. You shook your head, not believing him.

You tried to turn away, but Jisung held your gaze firmly. He tightened his grip on your face only slightly. His gaze was gentle and loving. "When I look at you," he continued, "I see your beautiful curves, the beautiful print of your stretch marks, and the unique features that make you who you are. I adore your thick thighs because they're part of what makes you uniquely you. They're also so sexy to me, and I love the way they feel in my hands when I squeeze them, and how soft they are when I lay in your lap. I cherish your stomach and the way you carry yourself. Your acne, your stretch marks—they're part of your beauty. They're not flaws; they're what make you special to me." Jisung had started caressing your body as he told you this. You didn't notice, but you started smiling. This was one of the many reasons why you loved Jisung; he always knew how to make you feel better.

He pulled you into a warm embrace, his touch reassuring. "You don't have to change a thing. I love you just as you are, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Your imperfections are part of what makes you beautiful. You'll always be the most beautiful woman in the world to me."

As he held you close, his words began to soothe you. Jisung's words were a gentle reminder that your worth wasn't defined by your appearance or by what you saw online. It was defined by the love and acceptance you shared with him.

In his arms, with his heartfelt words still running through your mind, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, you were enough.

Jisung looked at you and smirked. "Now, get undressed so I can show you how beautiful you are to me."

[messiahzzz]

thank you sm for the ask!! 💕 i’m glad you enjoy my posts and it is not a strange request by any means!

note: this is merely my read on gale’s sexual preferences/kinks. i don’t want to police anyone on their headcanons or claim they are “incorrect”. since the game doesn’t provide too much detail, many things remain up to interpretation. (and lest we forget fanfiction has always encouraged the exploration of dynamics that may not be present in canon.)

gale is a character who isn’t interested in walking the straight and narrow route. he is all about new experiences, favoring non-traditional means, putting his own spin on things, and the thrill of seeking the forbidden. the sheer romance of the uncharted and the unknown. he is enthusiastic in almost every aspect and possesses an infectious zest for life. in regards to his sexual preferences, this translates into an eagerness to explore, witness new sensations, and reach new heights together. while approaching the topic of sexuality with a generally playful, adventurous attitude.

if you’re looking for harder kinks, however — i don’t believe gale is the character for you. and in case it needs to be said again: there is nothing wrong with being vanilla.

initially, i see gale as a switch, who gravitates more towards assuming a dominant role, due to his ever-present desire to give and to impress. i do think he enjoys giving up control, yet you still have to actively convince him to let himself go and be spoiled for once. his first focus will always be to fulfill his partner's needs and drown them in his all-encompassing love and adoration. i also believe that gale will grow more comfortable with being the center of attention, once their relationship has reached a point of total security (and he had ample opportunities to show in just how many ways he can wow them). gale is not a strict dom, nor a sub. in his ideal relationship roles would be discarded entirely, deeming them too restrictive in his expression of intimacy with a trusted partner. it’s all about variety and ridding oneself of the shackles of the worldly, after all. melting into one perfect whole, not knowing where he ends and his partner begins.

gale: we are all sensual vessels. illusory magic lets us sail farther, and feel more deeply.

gale: [..] i could use the weave to make us feel sensations beyond reckoning.

based on what we know about gale, these could be some of his kinks:

lots of praise (this is non-negotiable), sensation/temperature play (waxplay, electrostimulation/all the many perks magic has to offer), sensory deprivation, light restrictions and bondage, the occasional roleplay, katoptronophilia (self-explanatory), altered mental-states (hypnosis, psychedelics), orgasm control & denial, body worship, olfactophilia and given his propensity towards verbosity: narratophilia and some very inventive dirty talk. as for my own self-indulgent take: due to the recurring emphasis on hands during his romance, as well as his being the main tool in how he shapes and navigates the world: quirofilia.

nodecontext: flustered, standing in front of his romance partner in bondage gear. not necessarily uncomfortable with the bondage aspect, just trying to stay focused.

now, what are gale’s hard-limits?

gale, after the player received loviatar's blessing: your hide, your choice. not quite my cup of tea though.

while projecting your own kinks and fantasies onto fictional characters is fine and well, disregarding and ignoring the source material (and the character's stated boundaries) is another matter entirely. fanon!gale is rather ooc and very different from his canon portrayal, which is something that tends to irk me. although this remains a common fandom phenomenon.

personally, i don’t see gale as someone who enjoys pain of any kind, be it giving or receiving (with the exception of spanking and light choking, if a certain mood strikes. although it is kept mostly playful). contrary to what fandom may claim, having self-worth issues, being loquacious, emotionally expressive, and vulnerability-seeking (as well as being commonly perceived as arrogant and insufferable) doesn't automatically equal having repressed masochistic tendencies. he could be convinced to dip a toe into sadism, but only upon his partner’s insistence. although i doubt he himself would find enjoyment in that.

the same applies to degradation/humiliation. i doubt that a character who is still very much struggling with inherent self-worth issues and a general feeling of being defective/not worthy would derive sexual gratification from being degraded. yes, it can certainly be healing for some, but gale doesn’t strike me as someone who would find particular enjoyment in that. quite the contrary, actually. nor would he like to do the degrading for that matter (he would vehemently refuse. all he wants to do is sing your praises.) gale wouldn’t enjoy being leashed and/or collared in any way either. the prospect of being tied up or restricted is rather intriguing, cause it serves to center one’s vulnerability while also allowing for more intense sensations. anything that taps into the puppy play/slave territory tho? he would find it demeaning… and, quite frankly, silly.

gale is also not a voyeur, nor a cuck. the entire scene with the drow twins leans way too much into dub-con territory for my tastes. the only way you can get him to participate at all is by rolling a persuasion check with DC 25. in every other dialogue option, he immediately (and explicitly) declines. even if you do manage to pass the persuasion check, he is still very hesitant about participating.

gale: i might enjoy watching you tangled up with the drow, as long as i was five paces back.

he then immediately runs from the room, because sending a simulacrum in his place was the only way to somewhat remove himself from the situation while still being able to please tav. because of course he wants to please and clearly this is important to tav so he might just… have to discard his reservations and... just go through with it?!

gale: well i suppose it would do no good to back out now. let us begin this little anthropological study, if we must.

i am aware that fandom uses the fact that his “orb lit up in telltale excitement” as a justification that persuading him was the right choice, as well as confirmation that he was secretly into it and “just needed a little push" to explore his desires/get out of his comfort zone. that implication alone is very suspect and goes straight into the sort of logic abusers often use. you can be physically aroused by certain scenes, images, or sounds, even while being visibly uncomfortable with the presented scenario. it is a natural response that you can’t often control. which is what he is showing throughout the entire scene: discomfort. he was coerced into this situation, without any prior discussion or an opportunity to talk about his boundaries. furthermore, this is what he has to say if you approach him after the threesome:

gale: ahem. i hope you're not here to ask about our recent, erm, activities. i'd rather those were consigned to the footnotes of our romance, if it's all the same with you.

since he is strictly monogamous, any arrangement involving another person is also a no. he made this rather clear when tav sought him out after receiving halsin's proposal. him being monogamous isn't solely rooted in his trauma, it isn't something he has to “overcome” in order to heal, nor does it mean that their relationship is any less fulfilling. call him greedy, stubborn, or old-fashioned, but he cannot comfortably agree to that.

[lovelyhan]

— hoax ⟢

pairing: joshua x reader

summary: you’re a hostess that’s drowning in debt, and jisoo is a man with too many secrets to keep. making a clean break for it isn’t as easy as you’d hoped.

word count: 18.6k words

tags: mafia!shua, strangers to lovers, angst, smut

warnings: shua smokes cigarettes & has tatts...i think that should be a warning LOL, mentions of shady mafia business but nothing detailed, graphic sexual content (minors dni!!)

notes: psa that this is a fic i originally wrote for another fandom, but decided to repurpose for svt! in case you find the narration familiar, it's posted on ao3 as a genshin fic, i just did some tweaks to the story to make it fit shua better hehe ++ i loved writing this so much, but it didn't get as much love as i expected back so i've decided to share this w caratblr as well :')

smut tags: dub con in one of the earlier scenes, protected & unprotected sex, shua & reader are both whipped as fuck

svt taglist: @wonderfulshinee - @misssugarlips - @yourfavoritefreakyhan - @jeanjacketjesus - @just-here-to-read-01 - @hanihans - @venusrae - @taestrwbrry - @minnie-mouser22 - @dreamhannies - @thvhannie - @kkooongie - @gae-uls - @lenireads - @gaebestie - @ryusha-rose - @spk93

joshua taglist: @renjunphile - @potatofrieswithketchup - @pretty-trustme

“Rei, time’s up!”

Your current patron groans with contempt at the manager’s announcement. He was a salaryman that’s probably in his thirties, and has been visiting the bar for about two weeks now. It didn’t take long for him to become one of your regular guests. 

“Rei, you’ll be here tomorrow, right?” he asks.

“Of course.” You flash him an apologetic smile as you untangle the arm that circles your waist. “I promise we’ll continue where we left off when you get back~”

This is how you normally appeared to your customers – the bubbliest escort in the entire red light district. It’s easy to lull men into a false sense of connection when you act so sweet and lovely; when you smile like the sun is in your eyes even in the middle of the night. In just six months of working in this place, the manager has considerably taken a liking to you, and you intend to keep up that track record just a few weeks more.

Then, you’d be free.

But no matter how much you doll yourself up for the evening; no matter how much money is signed on your paycheck, you can’t help but feel that something’s amiss. 

It’s a lingering thought that tickles the back of your head every now and again. Your fellow hostesses once told you that feeling the way you do was all part of the job. So once you start feeling uncomfortable in your own skin – under the gazes of your own lecherous patrons – you pour yourself a drink and throw your head back with a ditzy smile. Despite that steadily growing void in her heart, their beloved Rei will continue to grin and bear it. 

“They’re here again.”

You flash the manager a puzzled look once you make it back to the counter. “Who are we talking about?”

She presses her lips into a thin line, gesturing vaguely somewhere behind you. You manage to follow her line of sight discreetly, but when you see a pair of men in rugged suits seated near the entrance, your heart plummets to the pit of your stomach.

“I know you said you’ll deal with them, but they’re starting to unnerve the other girls,” the manager explains quietly. “Is it okay if you take care of this ASAP? I don’t want the bar to get mixed up in something bad.”

Dread sinks its claws into your skin as you mull over a response. The manager has been considerably patient with your dealings involving those loan sharks. But part of you knows that she’s only being this lenient because you were good at your job. 

“Yeah, sorry. I’ll go talk to them now,” you mumble.

Each stride you took feels like a step closer to your own grave. It’s always these same, two men keeping tabs on you ��� both with full sleeves of tattoos and a missing finger or two. It would make sense that the other girls didn’t like them lingering around the property. After all, your first instinct is always to steer clear every time you see them. 

“How can I help you?” you ask sweetly the moment you arrive at their table.

The first one glares at you through his tinted sunglasses, taking a drag of his cigarette none-too-discreetly. “Cut the crap. You know what we’re here for.”

He says your real name in a way that sounds like two sheets of styrofoam gnashing in your ears. You look around warily, hoping no one heard him.

“I go by Rei in my workplace, so I’d appreciate it if you addressed me as such,” you speak sternly, refusing to take a seat in their company. “What do you want this time? Didn’t we agree that I’ll be paying for the last installment this month?”

The second man snorts before bringing out an envelope from the lapel of his coat. “You sure about that? You got some nerve actin’ all feisty with the people kind enough to loan ya some cash.” 

You accept the envelope with trembling hands – brows cinched as you take out the document inside. But the longer you take to scan its contents, the wider your eyes become. 

It’s an approval notice for a loan of five million won, signed under your father’s name.

“W-What is this?” you stammer. “We didn’t submit any more loan requests.”

The first man shrugs – wholly unconcerned with your plight. And as he kills his cigarette on a crystalline ashtray, you feel your entire world crumbling before your eyes.

“Your old man specifically told us,” he began, words sounding more and more like a threat with each syllable. “That you’d take care of it all.”

You don’t know how you end up running barefoot in the streets after that. Your heels have long been ditched in an alley when you realized you can’t exactly get that far in them. And now, you’re mindlessly shouldering your way through the late night crowd – tuning out the people yelling your name in harsh voices. Those men came prepared; they even stationed a couple of their goons around the area. You can only evade them now because the streets were so packed, but you know better than push your luck.

Goddammit, you think to yourself – cringing a little when you step on a wet patch of something underfoot. I was almost free…

“Don’t let that bitch get away!”

Your body seizes up when you hear the loan shark’s voice closer than you anticipated. Fuck. They have you surrounded. 

In the midst of your momentary distraction though, you fail to see another person who’s also on the run. The same as you. While you did excellently in evading all the other passers-by, you ended up crashing into him in the middle of the busy street anyways – the impact making you stumble to the ground.

“Shit, sorry!” 

You look up with misty eyes – staring at the perpetrator with the intent to glare at him, but his doe-like gaze takes you by surprise. He’s adorned with a neatly-pressed suit, dark hair slicked back to perfection as he holds out a hand for you to take; the one not gripping a heavy-looking suitcase.

“I’m okay…” you mumble, getting back to your feet without accepting his help. “If anything, I should be the one who’s –”

“There she is!”

The two of you bristle at the loan shark’s voice, and you’re rooted to the spot – frozen with fear. You don’t notice the way the stranger you just ran into flickers his gaze between your trembling form and the lackeys coming from every direction. And you’re ignorant of how he manages to put two and two together before seizing your wrist.

“Come with me,” he murmurs, tugging you along before you can protest. 

You know you should be skeptical of him. The district you work in is the perfect environment for scheming assholes like the men who are after you to use as a stronghold. For all you know, this person is the same breed. But there’s something in his firm yet gentle grip that tells you he means no harm. Even as he makes you run faster, farther, you feel none of the dread that slowly crept on you the moment those loan sharks cornered you at the bar.

Your lungs are burning by the time you make it out of the busy streets – nothing but the chirp of cicadas ringing in your ears. Mystery man makes you sit on a bench just outside a small temple, and you’re not exactly in the position to refuse. 

“Ow…” You wince, glancing down only to see that your toes have cuts all over; blood and grime mixing with the wounds.

“Hmm. Wonder what a pretty thing like you got herself into,” the man sighs, raking a gloved hand through his messy black hair. “You sure you’re going to be okay?”

You don’t respond. You barely have the energy. The silence only deepens as you train your eyes on the ground. Your throat was parched from all that running, and you belatedly realize that you still haven’t eaten.

What’s worse is that the cuts on your feet sting like a bitch. Mystery man heaves a deep sigh, and you clearly hear the sound of leaves crunching beneath his shoes as he walks away. You try not to feel disappointed.

You didn’t expect him to stay and comfort you or anything like that. He was kind enough to go out of his way and take you somewhere those goons won’t be able to catch up. It would be stupid to ask for more. But still, you feel that hole in your heart rupture itself even wider – leaving you so hollow that you can’t even hope to fill the void anymore. 

Your makeup is running. Your pedicure is a mess. These are some of the things that you always cared to pay attention to before timing in for work. But now, with nowhere else to go, none of them seem to matter anymore. Even if you spent a significant amount of time getting ready for tonight, you can’t be assed to give a damn.

This is so fucking pathetic.

You don’t want to live like this – working at a goddamn cabaret club just to pay off the debts your father always keeps racking up. All he ever does these days is drink himself dead before dragging his ass to the nearest pachinko machine. You hate it. You hate him. What did you ever do to deserve all the shit that’s being thrown your way? 

Why do you have to deal with all of it alone?

“Here.”

You startle at the sound of your savior’s voice – surprised to see him as he tosses something on the ground in front of you. He came back? But what did he…

Are those sandals?

“I picked out a pair that matches your outfit best. Women are always particular about that kind of stuff, right?” he says nonchalantly, kneeling to the ground as he brings out a pack of wipes from a plastic bag. At that moment, you realize that he’s changed out of his stuffy gray suit in exchange for a pair of jeans and a ratty t-shirt.

Even his hair seems different now, like he'd washed out the wax keeping it in place. Now, it looks just a bit damp as the tips curl at the edges. How he managed to do all that so quickly, you have no clue.

“Hold still. I’m going to clean you up.”

You wince a little when the cool, wet tissue comes into contact with your skin. He doesn’t speak as he wipes off the blood and dirt from your feet, and you’re more mortified than grateful for his kind but uncalled for gesture. Is he trying to get you indebted to him? Are you going to have to pay this back, too?

A few moments later, you spot a general store a few blocks away and the pieces start to fit in your head. That must’ve been where he bought all this stuff. You look around as he continues cleaning you up, and notice that his suitcase is nowhere to be found either. Instead, he has a black knapsack hoisted across one shoulder – a red baseball cap hanging from one of the straps.

How did he manage to buy all this and get changed so quickly? Or were you just sulking about your stupid predicament for that long? 

“There we go,” he says, tossing the soiled tissues into a nearby trash can before covering your wounds with…cute band-aids? “I’m not really one to stick my nose into other people’s business, but my mom would never let me hear the end of it if she found out I left a poor woman for dead.”

Mom? “Okay, but you didn’t have to do all of…this.”  

Mystery man glances up at you with a lopsided smile – the light of the street lamps somehow accentuating the color of his eyes. He looks so much younger like this; dressed down like a college student in his first semester. Once he’s put all the bandages in place, he even goes the extra mile and slides the newly bought sandals on your now-clean feet.

“You’re right, pretty girl. I don’t have to.” He beams. “But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to.”

Your breath catches in your throat. Your heart skips a beat. Everything about him is still rightfully suspicious, but you find yourself oddly happy with the care he’s given. This is the first time someone’s been so nice to you in a long while.

“Now that you’re good to go, I best be on my way.”

All of a sudden, that fleeting bliss dissipates in a puff of smoke. “...Wait, what? W-Where are you going?”

The man rises back to his feet, and it occurs to you just how tall he is. You swallow the lump in your throat, instinctively backing away from him on the bench. He’s still wearing that endearing look he showed you earlier, but when he speaks again, his voice holds none of his initial warmth.

“Somewhere that has nothing to do with you.”

The words lance through your heart the moment they leave his lips, and you ask yourself, why do you feel so…sad about parting ways with a complete stranger? You don’t even know his name. It shouldn’t be a big deal, right?

You don’t say anything as he takes his baseball cap and eases it atop his messy hair. You don’t utter a word when he starts walking away for real. But the moment you recall the fate that awaits you back at the red light district, the ridiculous debt your father had foolishly signed, and the pathetic life you’ve been wanting to escape from for so long…

Your new sandals crunch against the fallen leaves as you run after him. Your heart nearly leaps into your throat from the adrenaline, and before he can go any farther, you catch the mystery man by the hem of his shirt. He doesn’t even flinch. As if he expected you to follow him right from the start. That makes you wonder if he thinks you’re being a nuisance, but at this point, you can’t bring yourself to care.

“Take me with you. Please.”

He stares along with an unreadable look – his doe eyes shining in the dark as he watches you clutch onto the fabric of his shirt. 

“If you come with me, you’ll never be able to go back,” he tells you up front. “You okay with that?”

In hindsight, maybe running away with a complete stranger isn’t far up in the best decisions you’ve made in life – god knows you’ve only made a few of those. Just because he showed you an ounce of kindness, doesn’t mean he’s a good person. 

Still, the answer comes to you quite easily.

“Yeah,” you say, more confident than you’ve ever been. “Anywhere is better than a dump like this…”

He considers your answer for a moment before letting out a soft laugh. “This town must’ve fucked you up pretty badly, huh? Poor thing.” Mystery man holds out his hand again, and you’re a bit too glad that he’s speaking to you nicely again. “The name’s Joshua.”

“Joshua…?”

Well, that was obviously an alias. You consider telling him the one you go by at the bar as well, but when your eyes rivet to the floral sandals he bought for you on a whim, you immediately assume that you should tell him the truth. Even if he was doing the exact opposite.

You give him your real name with little hesitation, face warming at the intensity of his gaze. But at that moment, you don’t really care what happens anymore. All you want is to escape reality without looking back.

If you have to cling to a complete stranger to achieve that, then so be it.

...

“You were just about to ditch me, weren’t you?” 

Joshua jolts like a cat dumped with ice-cold water – hand shying away from the doorknob of your hotel room with a sheepish look. “Me? Ditching you? You’re dreaming, princess!”

You let out an irritated noise, but your shoulders relax once you catch him plopping his bag on the mattress either way. He’s the one who told you that you can’t go back once you tagged along. You wanted to say that you’re going to make it his responsibility to take care of you, but your mother brought you up better than that.

Still…this all feels a bit surreal.

All your life, you’ve lived in the small town of Andong. You could never afford to make the trip to Seoul even if you wanted – given that a majority of your salary is dedicated to paying off those shitty loans. Yet now, you’re checked in one of the most beautiful hotels you’ve ever seen, courtesy of your stranger-than-life companion. 

Now that you’re in a clearer state of mind, you start to consider the possibility of Joshua being a foreigner; if his name wasn't already a dead giveaway in and of itself.

Another thing you’re left thinking about is how well-off he really is. Not everyone can just book a fancy room at a fancy hotel. But when the two of you showed up at the front desk earlier tonight, he was surprisingly received with warm hospitality. Although, you suppose that all guests are treated the same way in high-end hotels. Not that you would know.

“Well, since we’re stuck together anyways, I’ll be showering first,” he grumbles, tossing his cap on the nightstand as he musses his own hair. “Ahh, I can’t wait to crash into bed.”

“Wait a minute. I thought we agreed I was going to shower first –”

Joshua shuts the door to the en-suite, clicking the lock before you can even finish.

That jerk…!

You angrily sprawl yourself across the mattress as a petty means of getting back at him. Let’s see if he can crash into bed comfortably now! But the abrupt movement makes the bag that Joshua left rustle in place. You shift around until you’re seated on the bed, taking a quick peek at the opened zipper. Somehow, it doesn’t surprise you to see thick wads of cash inside. You knew that you were right on the money to think there’s more to him than meets the eye.

The more rational part of you insists that you get out of here while you still can. That man is probably more dangerous than you think, and even if he’s acting all cheeky with you now, there’s no telling when he’ll decide to cut you off. You remember how quickly Joshua's mirthful countenance morphed into something…scarier when you asked where he was going earlier. Long story short, you do not want to mess with that.

“Hey, princess. It’s your turn.”

You scramble on the bed at the sound of his voice as you compose yourself in a way that doesn’t suggest that you’ve been going through his stuff. Joshua emerges from the bathroom with steam billowing from the doorway – a fluffy towel hanging low on his hips. But now that he was liberated from the confines of his clothes, you realize that his body was actually inked.

Twin koi fish curled around both of his pecs – accentuating the contours of his chest better than you’d expect. And when he turns around, there’s a massive caricature of a dragon splayed across his muscular back. You don’t know whether he’s oblivious of your observant stare or he’s just letting you enjoy the show. But either way, Joshua grants you an eyeful of his tattoos for a good amount of time. 

He walks over to the table near the windows – grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter you didn’t know he was carrying around. Joshua takes a stick between his teeth, and you can’t peel your eyes away from the way he takes a drag after he lights it. But when his deep brown gaze finally flickers to yours, you’re not quick enough to disengage.

“So how long are you going to stare at me for?” He asks, amused. 

Eye twitching with annoyance, you grab one of the pillows on the bed before throwing it right at his face. Joshua manages to catch it before that happens though, much to your dismay.

“None of your business!”

It’s only when you get under the spill of a hot shower that the gravity of your situation finally hits you. You absentmindedly scrub away the grime off your body as you think that you might’ve followed someone you shouldn’t have. Now that your prior amazement from seeing his tattoos had come and went, you realize that he didn’t have them inked on a whim. They were a symbol of status and power. 

Working as a hostess means that you get to know a lot more shady guys than you’d otherwise meet under normal circumstances. But apart from those nasty debt collectors, you’ve done a great job at avoiding a lot of them. But now, you willingly waltzed into the den of someone that’s probably ten times worse. 

Great.

You put on a bathrobe before heading out of the en-suite, peaking your head out of the door to make sure Joshua isn’t doing anything weird. But all you see is a tall man dozing softly on the bed – his still-wet hair dampening the pillows slightly. You sigh before padding back inside the room. Didn’t he ever learn that sleeping with damp hair is going to make him catch a cold in the morning?

For some reason, you end up grabbing a small, dry towel he left on the table – intent on patting down some of the moisture. Joshua lays still on his side, undisturbed in his slumber. You make sure you’re careful with how you dab the towel across his head; not really wanting him to wake up in the middle of it. But now that you’re close enough to study his face, you can feel yourself growing embarrassed. Joshua's thick lashes lay softly across the skin beneath his eyes, and when you look closer, you can almost see the tiny spots that dot his cheekbones. 

You don’t like to admit, but he’s actually pretty…handsome.

A while later, you come to terms that you won’t be able to pat down his hair thoroughly if he’s asleep. That’s when you decide to towel dry your own hair for ten or-so minutes before climbing into bed with him.

The sheets feel smooth against your skin, but that does little to keep your mind off the fact that a gangster (at least, you assumed he was a gangster) is sleeping right next to you. You tell yourself not to sneak any glances, but you end up doing just that anyway – admiring each detail of his tattoos without really meaning to. 

Is this really okay? Should I really let my guard down around someone like him?

All these thoughts drift in and out of your head, but in the end, you succumb to the day’s fatigue. Joshua bought dinner for the both of you once you got off the train on the way here, so your hunger was already abated. But you figure that a good night’s sleep is what your body needs to completely recuperate.

…But if he’s kind enough to patch up your wounds and buy you dinner, then gangster or not, maybe he isn’t such a bad person.

Joshua, however, makes you regret even thinking that literally the next second later.

The moment you’ve found a comfortable spot on the bed, the man beside you suddenly pounces – caging you in his strong arms before you can even draw a breath. His lips twitch into a lazy smile that borders on devilish, and you immediately figure out that you’re fucked.

“You’re a sweet little thing, aren’t you?” he laughs, tracing the swell of your lower lip with his finger. “Drying my hair ‘cause you’re worried about me? Princess, I’d be more careful if I were you. After all…”

When Joshua leans closer, you feel his breath fan against your ear – making you hate the way your body shudders from the feel of it. 

“I’m not a good man.”

You should push him away – you know you should. But from the hypnotizing strokes of his tattoos to the endless honey brown of his eyes, you find Joshua whittling down your defenses alarmingly fast. When his mouth descends onto yours, you welcome him despite your voice of reason screaming for you to stop – to get away while you still can.

But that’s the thing, you can’t get away. Not when you willingly followed him in the first place.

His body is impossibly warm against yours, and you can’t help but respond to his touch whenever his dexterous fingers graze your skin. But as you let him deepen his tongue-filled kiss, you suddenly recall why you’re even here. 

Persistent loan sharks. A never-ending debt. 

And you have the gall to be doing all this? 

“Joshua,” you plead, mustering the strength to push against his chest. “Please, stop.” 

He doesn’t listen. Instead, Joshua nudges the folds of your bathrobe apart, exposing your chest to the cold air of your hotel room. A large hand moves to grope your breast, languidly massaging the supple flesh. But the sensation of his heated palm on your cold skin is enough to snap you back to your senses, and finally, you manage to retaliate.

“I told you to stop!” you shout, folding your knee high enough to kick him in the chest. Joshua obviously doesn’t expect this, and grunts in pain as he stumbles backwards on the mattress. He stares at you with a puzzled look, as if he didn’t try to take advantage of you only a few seconds prior.

“I didn’t come with you to be your fuckdoll, asshole,” you growled, tears stinging your eyes despite the anger in your voice. “Just because I’m a hostess, doesn’t mean I’m easy. Who the hell do you think you are?”

You expect him to lose his temper – to ‘remind you of your place’. Because that’s how gangsters usually operate. Going for the things they want without considering the repercussions on the other people involved. When he reaches out to you, you brace yourself for the oncoming impact. But instead of a hard slap to the face, Joshua caresses the side of your cheek almost apologetically. You startle at his touch – flashing him a perturbed look.

“Sorry, my mom’s always told me that I can be a bit too into the things I do,” he chuckles, thumb grazing the high of your cheekbone. “And that I can be a bit selfish and presumptive. When I did all those nice things for you today, I expected you’ll return the favor by whatever means~”

You don’t even have the time to think about how this man just brought up his mother in a serious conversation. Instead, you scowl at Joshua like he’s just lost his mind. “Doesn’t that just make you a scumbag?”

“When did I ever say I wasn’t?” He laughs. “Didn’t you find it the least bit suspicious that I was being kind to you without asking for anything in return? I’ll have you know that everyone has ulterior motives these days, princess.”

“I did,” you snap. “And I’m glad I didn’t trust you right off the bat.”

“Oh? But you trust me enough to share this room with me?”

You open your mouth, close it, open it again, but alas, no wise retort comes out. He’s right. You knew that Joshua was suspicious from the start, but you still threw everything to the wind and ran away with him. It’s not like you can go back now that everything has gone to shit, though. And you can’t say with confidence that you can find a place for yourself here in the city with no connections nor cash either.

All you have is Joshua, as much as it pains you to admit.

“Come here.”

Joshua eases himself back to his side of the bed and holds out his arms – as if inviting you into his space. You respond with a bizarre look that makes him snort. “You think I’ll come anywhere near you after that stunt you pulled?”

“Hey, you don’t want to have sex. That’s cool. I’m not so much of a scumbag that I’ll force you to do it,” he tells you nonchalantly. “But can we at least cuddle? It’s been quite a while since I’ve felt the warmth of a woman.”

“...You’re really, really strange. You know that?” 

“Mhmm. So I've been told.”

Gods, you’re tired. Downright exhausted. You just want to knock yourself out and forget about the misfortune of having landed someone like Joshua as a companion. You appreciate that he isn’t the type to coerce women into sex, but…ugh! This guy’s impossible to figure out.

…Still, you inch closer to his welcoming touch, biting down a sharp retort when you hear him chuckling softly at your surrender. Joshua wraps his strong arms around your frame, and you close your eyes – catching a whiff of a salty breeze in the air. You wonder if the scent is coming from the sheets or his wild, wild hair.

“This isn’t so bad, now is it?” he teases. 

“Shut up and go to sleep.”

“Aww, you’re making an awful lot of demands to the person who saved you! I think I liked you better when you were bashful and on the brink of tears, princess.” 

You scoff. “So not only are you a scumbag, but you’re also a sadist.”

“Mmm, I don’t have any objections about that, really.”

God, just what have you gotten yourself into?

...

If you thought your first night as Joshua’s unwitting travel companion was a big hassle, you’re certainly in for the ride for the next few days.

He’s always out during the daytime – feeding you excuses like he has to meet up with a couple of friends before leaving you alone and bored in the hotel room. It’s a good thing that the cable service here covered your favorite noontime soap operas, so you could kill time for at least a few hours. Joshua always returns before dinner, and orders room service while engaging you in small talk. He doesn’t tell you about his daytime escapades, nor do you ask.

But when the daily cycle repeats itself for the third time, you decide to put your foot down.

“Are you trying to get me to die of boredom or something?” you ask him once the bellboy takes away your food trays for the night. “I know you’re doing some super shady stuff somewhere out there, but would it kill you to show me around? First time I’ve ever been to Seoul and I’m confined in a hotel room.”

Joshua stares at you dubiously. “Princess, you’re not some inmate I’m keeping locked up in a cell. I never said you weren’t allowed to go sightseeing or whatever.”

You pause. Right, he never did say that explicitly… But you can’t really tell him you were too afraid to go out wandering on your own. 

“Have you been behaving like I kidnapped you or something?” Joshua snorts, walking over to the windows to light a cigarette. Your face scrunches up at that. The room’s going to reek of tobacco smoke now. “How about this: let’s walk around the shopping district tomorrow morning. Besides, the spare clothes provided by the hotel are just going to rack up on the checkout bill. Might as well get you some better outfits instead.”

Looking down at your current attire, you can’t help but think he’s right. You couldn’t exactly bring any of your clothes with you on this very impromptu trip, and you refused when Joshua offered to lend you a bunch of his own. For some reason, a whole duffel bag full of men’s clothes arrived a day after you checked in, and when you asked Joshua about it, he simply said that he prides his men for always delivering the necessities for a trip. 

His men. Meaning, this asshole is definitely a big shot kingpin of some sketchy organization and he’s just keeping his mouth shut about it. It’s a good thing that the staff offered to give you some hotel-issued clothes for a certain price, though. Like hell you’re going to prance around in a mafia boss’ clothes.

But…did you hear him right? Did Joshua just offer to take you shopping?

“Don’t you dare think you can buy my trust with material things,” you warn him, bringing your knees closer to your chest on the bed. “I’m still on to you.”

“So scary,” your companion chuckles, tilting his chin up before puffing out a cloud of smoke. He looks like he’s just about to follow that up with another jab to get on your nerves, but something seems to catch his gaze. 

Then, you realize that Joshua is staring at your feet.

Before you can blurt out some offhand remark about a foot fetish, though, he asks, “You won’t be needing band-aids anymore, right? I can always run to the drugstore and get you some.”

“Yeah, you don’t have to do that. My feet are fine,” you insist before following it up with a softer, “But I might need a new pedicure, though…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. What time are we going out again?”

The next morning, Joshua jostles you out of bed at seven A.M. sharp – much to your utter dismay. Judging by how never stays out too late despite his questionable business ventures in the city, it probably makes sense for him to be a morning person. He tells you that the shopping district doesn’t even open until nine, but the bastard insists that the early morning sun is good for your skin!  

As he shows you around the main avenue, though, your initial unwillingness to go out so early in the goddamn morning slowly ebbs – having been replaced with pure, unadulterated awe because wow. The big city really is a sight to see. It’s so different from your hometown that you kind of regret not visiting sooner.

Thankfully, there are some places just outside the shopping district that open much earlier. Joshua escorts you to a nearby restaurant – insisting that you can order to your heart’s content. You receive the offer with equal parts bewilderment and concern, but cooping yourself up in that damn hotel room gives you little time to think about courtesy. If he’s willing to pay for your expenses, who are you to refuse?

Breakfast goes the same way all the other meals you shared with Joshua have gone so far. You try to probe his reasons for visiting Seoul as subtle as you can, but he always skirts around the topic with a face as smooth as butter. It’s obvious that he isn’t going to start talking about whatever undercover mission he’s on, so instead, you ask about his family.

“My family?” he repeats.

You nod. “Yeah. You brought up your mom like...twice already. Kinda made me wonder if a lunatic like you is actually a family man.”

“Hey! While you’re not wrong about me being a lunatic, I’ve yet to show you that side of me. That’s a pretty mean assumption.” Joshua pouts, scooping a spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

You’re not even going to ask him to elaborate. 

“Hmm… But I guess you could say I’m a family man,” he hums right after swallowing his food. “I’m an only child, but I've always wanted a family of my own, you know? Old suburban home, white picket fence, six kids, and a dog –” 

“Six?” you echo. “Were you that lonely growing up?”

Joshua snorts. “Where I'm from, it's completely normal to have a ton of kids.”

“Where are you from anyway?”

“The U.S. Los Angeles, specifically.”

Los Angeles… Well, at least he's honest about that. His answer also proves your hunch about him being a foreigner.

“What are you doing so far away from home then?” you ask. “Won’t your parents miss you or something? Don’t you miss them?”

An emotion you can’t quite identify passes over Joshua's face – something grim and untouchable. You’re about to insist that he doesn’t need to answer or anything, but the look disappears faster than it surfaced and he’s back to flashing you a shit-eating grin like usual.

“Hmm, why are you talking about family when we’re out on a date?” he sulks. “You’re so unromantic. How about you teach me how to use chopsticks instead?”

You stare at him, puzzled. “You…don’t know how to use chopsticks? But your Korean is so fluent.”

He rolls his eyes. “Hasty generalization. Just because I can speak the language, doesn't mean I'm good at the other cultural customs, you know.”

Just like that, Joshua expertly makes you forget about all that talk about his family. He distracts you well enough until you finally arrive at the shopping district, and the first thing he does is drag you to a beauty salon.

“Uh, I thought we were buying clothes,” you tell him dryly.

He hums, already signing the clipboard that the lady behind the reception counter hands to him. “Didn’t you say you wanted to get a pedicure first?”

“...I was joking.”

“Well, I’m not.” He grins before pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll come get you in half an hour. That sound good?”

You can’t even let yourself feel the heat rushing to your face because Joshua is already sliding a black credit card onto the counter – the limitless variant that you can only dream of getting for yourself. What on earth is he doing with that bag of cash back in the hotel room when he had one of those the whole time?

“That’s a gorgeous boyfriend you have, miss.” Your beautician sighs as she massages your feet with moisturizer. “I wonder when I’ll get lucky to land a guy that hot.”

You’re compelled to tell her, no. That potential criminal mastermind is most certainly not your boyfriend. But the way this woman’s gentle hands press down on your toes reminds you of the night you met Joshua. How he went out of his way to clean the dirt off your feet without uttering a single word in complaint. How his eyes appeared so disarmingly brown that you can’t forget their color even if you wanted to. 

And not to mention that innocent kiss he gave you before making his leave earlier…

Nope. Get it together, you chide yourself. That is the same douchebag that tried to have sex with you the other night. And are you forgetting the fact that he’s hinted at his own criminal activity several times now?!

But in spite of yourself, you respond to your beautician’s words with a gentle smile. 

“I’m sure you’ll meet him soon.”

…

“Joshua, this is way too much.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, thank you for spoiling me rotten, but what the fuck? Who buys a hundred thousand won's worth of clothes for a woman he barely knows?”  

“Does it matter? Not to brag, but I’ve got lots of cash to burn, princess.”

“...That’s – That’s not the point!”

It’s not even lunch time but you’re already arguing with Joshua over his irresponsible expenses. Like, sure, this all totally works in your favor, but you still have a shred of decency at least! He’s already bought you three expensive dresses, a nice pair of designer jeans, and some chic-looking heels. He got you the last one from the store the moment Joshua noticed your stare lingering too long on the display window. 

You used to joke around with your old college friends about getting a sugar daddy in the past but… Is this really the right way to go about it? Why does it feel like you’re doing something illegal?!

“Don’t you like them?” he asks, lower lip swelling into a pout. “We can always pick out something else. Oh, I forgot to make you choose a swimsuit.”

“...What do I need a swimsuit for?”

He spares you another conniving smile, taking something out from inside his jacket before showing it to you.

“Are those…” You gape at him. “Plane tickets?”

Joshua nods like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. “Yep. We’re going on vacation to Jeju Island. Doesn’t that sound exciting?”

No, it doesn’t! Not in the slightest!! Okay, maybe you’re a bit curious to see what Jeju's famous coastlines have to offer, but… That doesn’t explain why Joshua is so willing to spend unspeakable amounts of money at the drop of a hat. You wonder what’s so damn special about you for him to keep spoiling you like this, but then again, maybe he’s never been frugal to begin with. Unlike yourself – who’s always had to work for every penny just to make ends meet.

The realization dawns on you like a sucker punch to the gut. Sure he’s kind enough (more like, crazy enough) to let you tag along with him, but the fact that the two of you live in completely different worlds only starts to sink in at that moment. 

Right now, Joshua is donned with a maroon shirt with the buttons done only up to the middle – giving you a glimpse of those tattoos you’ve never grown tired of looking at. He matched it with a black leather jacket and a nice pair of trousers, looking like a million dollars in every single way. Even if you managed to change into a more stylish fit compared to your hotel clothes, you still feel grossly inferior – not that the two of you were on equal footing in the first place.

This isn’t all that different from that sinking sensation you always felt in the bar – a feeling like you’re somewhere you’re not supposed to be. Somewhere you don’t belong. 

Joshua is a goddamn big shot, and you? You’re just a parasite. You don’t deserve all of this finery. You don’t even deserve his company at all.

If he notices how you’ve gone noticeably silent as he leads you to an athletics store, Joshua doesn’t bring it up. He merely holds up all the bags of unnecessary purchases in one hand, and your own hand in the other. You don’t fault the lady at the salon for thinking this guy was your boyfriend. To an outsider, the two of you must’ve looked like a couple in their mid-twenties.

But even if he practically jumped you last time, you know better than to expect more than what he’s already giving you. Besides, you didn’t run away with Joshua just to get together with him… 

Right?

“Does this look okay?”

You come out of the dressing room to show Joshua the swimsuit he picked out for you. He glances up from his phone, and you try not to let the mesmerized look on his face get to your head. 

“You’re looking real sexy right now, princess,” he admits – pocketing his phone as he walks to the front of your stall. “I knew it. Blue really suits you.”

“Quit saying weird things,” you mumble, shyly draping your arms over your chest. “Do you want me to get it or not?”

“More importantly, do you want to get it?”

“H-Huh?”

All of a sudden, Joshua pushes you back inside the stall – locking the door behind him before you can utter a protest. There’s a serious look on his face that you don’t get to see a lot, but you don’t get to ponder on it much. He’s quick to place both of his large hands on your shoulders, making you face the full-body mirror inside without any delay.

“Do you not like receiving gifts, gorgeous?” he whispers, and you hate how your skin prickles at the new pet name. “You’ve been so against everything I bought for you all day, even though you’re the one who picked them out yourself.”

“Joshua –”

One of his hands starts to descend, brushing across your arm and onto the curve of your waist. His other hand teases the straps of your bikini top, sending involuntary shivers running down your spine. To make things worse, your breath hitches as you meet Joshua’s gaze in the mirror – piercing doe eyes holding you hostage with a single glance. 

“Or maybe you don’t like receiving gifts from me,” he considers. “Well, I am a bad guy. If you want me to cut it out, you can tell me up front. I just hate seeing that look on your face.”

“...What look?” you whisper – trying your best to distract yourself from the heat of his touch.

Joshua sighs as he rubs your exposed skin tenderly. “The look you make when you’re sad. You’ve always been making that look ever since we left for the city. Honestly, I’ve even considered sending you back home a couple of times -”

“No,” you cut him off sharply. “D-Don’t send me back. Please. Anywhere but there.”

You don’t even notice that your own hands moved on their own accord – palms placed on top of his much larger ones from where they now rest on your hips. Joshua stares at your reflection with wide eyes before he sighs, burying his face in the hollow of your neck.

This is a dangerous position to be in. He easily covers your body with his own, and you can only do so much to hold back the noises threatening to spill from your lips as Joshua massages your sensitive skin. 

“Then why do you keep refusing me?” he murmurs, teeth grazing the column of your throat. “From what I recall, you’re the one who came to me, princess. I thought you’d be more thick-skinned than that. Other women would kill to be in your place, you know.”

“That’s because I don’t get you, Joshua,” you argue, biting your lip when he starts to suck on your skin. “Y-You can be an ass at times, but you still do all these nice things for me anyway. You’re even splurging a shit-ton of money for no good reason. I get that you’re loaded but…why? Why are you being so kind to me?”

He lets out a soft laugh that reverberates sweetly across his chest – you feel the vibrations from where he presses himself behind you, and you have to clench your thighs together to stem your pooling desire. “You’re not used to being treated well by the people around you, huh?”

You scoff – the accusation stinging more than it should. “You think?”

Joshua doesn’t respond immediately – letting himself get a feel of your pliant body for as long as you allowed it first. He tries to familiarize himself with how your skin feels against his fingers; where your erogenous zones are, and the other spots that make you blush like a schoolgirl. It’s a bit selfish of him to delay such an important answer, but Joshua is nothing if he’s not selfish.

“When I was assigned to go to Korea, my…employer gave me an ultimatum – one that involves my family back home,” he tells you quietly. “If I don’t go back to L.A. with substantial results, they’ll be the one to suffer the punishment.”

Suddenly, you could see through the sensual haze that hung between the both of you seconds prior. Shock paints itself raw on your face as you blurt out, “You were blackmailed?” God, no wonder he didn’t want to talk about his family.

“Heh. I’m used to being blackmailed, pretty girl. It’s part of my job,” Joshua speaks nonchalantly. “But…that doesn’t mean I didn’t drag my ass here, nearly overwhelmed with anxiety. I’d kill a man if I was ordered to do it, but if my family’s lives are at stake? Anyone would be terrified.”

You feel your heart sink at the way his expression shifts into something more melancholic. Joshua exchanges his suggestive caresses for a proper embrace. He hugs you from behind, breathing in the scent of cheap shampoo still lingering in your hair. 

“What does that have to do with me?” you whisper. “I don’t understand…”

“When you bumped into me at Andong that night, you kind of snapped me out of it,” he chuckles. “I couldn’t think of anything else but my job and my parents, but then you came along. Honestly, I was only supposed to help you get away from the assholes chasing you but…”

“I ran after you…” you continue, feeling more embarrassed than you should. 

Oh. You don’t even have the right to feel like shit for being with Joshua because you chose to be here, dammit! Why do you keep forgetting that?

“Exactly.” Joshua hums as he snakes an arm in front of your stomach, pushing your body against his chest. “I’m not always this territorial, you know, but you practically offered yourself up. Do you know what that does to a guy like me?”

You shouldn’t find it so fucking hot when his other hand trails up from your navel, your chest, all the way to your neck – thick fingers pressing down your throat with ample pressure. Your gazes meet in the mirror, and you don’t miss the near-manic glint in his eyes as Joshua holds onto you possessively.

“Now tell me, princess. Do you want the swimsuit or not?”

You can’t help the shuddering sigh that escapes your lips. At this point, you have no choice but to let him buy you the damn thing. You’re pretty sure Joshua’s aggressive display is enough to make you soak through your bottoms, and it’s not like he’s going to take no for an answer either.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper as he eases his hand away from your neck. “I’m just…not used to wearing all of this. It’s like I’m not meant to. I’ve always just settled with clothes that go on sale, you know.”

“...Well, how do you feel about the stuff I give you?”

“Um. They’re all pretty, I guess?”

“Do you wanna wear them?”

“O-Of course.”

Finally, Joshua peels himself away – only to twirl you around to face him directly. His tousled black hair is sticking out every which way, but all you can focus on are his rich brown irises, nearly drowning you in those endless pools of honey. 

“Then you better wear them unapologetically,” he tells you, tucking a tuft of your hair behind your ear. “A princess needs only the finest garbs. Why do you think I call you that all the time, huh?”

“To get a rise out of me?”

Joshua barks out a laugh. “I guess I can’t say no to that. But anyways, the point still stands: I’ll give you anything and everything in the world. All you have to do is ask.”

After what seems like an eternity inside that damn dressing room, you manage to kick him out of the stall before putting your clothes back on. You end up replaying everything he just told you like a broken record. Anything and everything? This man is a different kind of delusional. 

But you can’t really afford to think about it much. Just as you thought, the evidence of your rather…risqué encounter with Joshua is lathered across the inseam of your bottoms, and you shamefully wipe it off with a napkin you nabbed from the restaurant.

When the two of you head back to the cashier to make your nth purchase of the day, you’re vaguely aware of the other sales persons stealing glances at you and Joshua. Well, if you were in their shoes, you’d certainly find it odd why it took almost thirty minutes for you to try on a damn swimsuit. But fortunately, Joshua's reputation precedes him even at a shopping center all the way in Seoul. None of them dare to speak to him, much more raise any complaints.

“Couldn’t you have waited to sit down and have the talk with me back in our hotel room?” you groan once you make it out of the store. “I’m sure those guys think you fucked me in the stall or something.”

“Would you like that?” Joshua teases, and you’re sure he would’ve pulled you close to him if only his hands weren't full of shopping bags. “Does my princess get off on the idea of being fucked silly in a dressing room?”

“Don’t push it, asshole.”

You meant to punctuate the words with a borderline scowl, but all that makes itself known on your face is a sheepish smile that you can’t quite bite down. Joshua notices this, of course, but instead of making you flustered about it like usual, he offers to flag down a taxi on the way back to the hotel instead of walking. 

The last thing he needs is to ruin your new pedicure, after all.

...

A week later, you and Joshua arrive at Jeju Island.

You didn’t even consider the possibility of this place having an airport. All this time, you assumed that sea travel was the way to go for them. But you were surprisingly greeted by the sight of a modern-looking terminal as you and Joshua waited for your luggage. He’s been quiet for the whole ride, and you’d be lying if you said that doesn’t concern you even a little. Joshua not running his mouth just to piss you off means something was up.

But when the two of you finally make it outside, he’s back to his usual self. 

“So, do you want to sample Jeju's finest mandarin orchards, or do you want to settle down at the hotel first?” he asks with a chipper smile. “Though you do look like you want to take a nap.”

“I do,” you reply, yawning as you lean against his shoulder. “Can’t we just cuddle today?”

“Oh? You’re offering cuddles for free? Who are you and what did you do my princess?”

“...Cringe.”

“Wha – Did you just say I’m cringe?!”

Your banter is interrupted by a man in a suit clearing his throat. You stare at him with thinly veiled confusion, wondering what he needed. 

“Sir Joshua. We’ve been anticipating your arrival.”

…Sir Joshua?  

“Oh, Chan. I didn’t think you’d be the one stationed here,” your companion greets the man with a smile – plucking your duffel bag from your grasp before handing it to the newcomer. “Tell the driver to bring us to the hotel first.”

Chan nods swiftly. “Understood, sir.”

That’s how you find yourself in the backseat of a high-end limousine – speeding through the scenic roads of Jeju as you and Joshua bask in the silence. He’s busy talking to someone on the phone, but you can’t bring yourself to eavesdrop on their conversation. It feels wrong to do so. 

Instead, you let yourself wonder what he has planned. After he fulfills his mission, what then? Is he going to take you back to L.A.? You’re not so deluded to think that he’ll stay here with you when he has a family waiting for him. But the idea of traveling all the way to his homeland makes you a little queasy. You’ve just gotten used to visiting far-away places in Korea. You think you’re going to need a bit more momentum before packing up to the other side of the world.

…Does he work well in the cold? You barely see him sweat even in the humid air of the summer. Maybe Joshua is the type of person who can easily adapt to the current climate. When that train of curiosity starts to pick up, though, you realize that it’s a little hard to stop. 

You want to know more about him. About his habits, his quirks, his family, and his work. He obviously likes you enough to keep showering you with gifts. Of course, you’ve tried asking a few questions about those in the past, and Joshua merely brushed them off with a laugh.

But things are different now. Ever since that…fateful encounter in the dressing room, he’s been more open with you. More up front about the things going on inside his head. If you push the right buttons, then you might be able to understand him a bit better.

Joshua pockets his phone about five minutes later, leaning against you before circling his arms around your waist. “Hmph. Can’t believe I’m still forced to think about work.”

“You can always just switch off your phone,” you suggest jokingly.

He only sighs in response, and you pat his head gingerly as a means of comfort. “By the way, I planned on scheduling a trip for Sunrise Peak, but turns out, it's closed to tourists for the weekend.” Joshua looks up at you, pouting. “Sorry, princess. I can only take you to the beach.”

He was planning a visit to Sunrise Peak? Well, you haven’t seen it with your own eyes yet, but the fact that Joshua is intuitive enough to hazard guesses about what you might and might not like… 

You want to familiarize yourself with him, the same way he so effortlessly does with you. 

Not giving him any leeway to pull back, you grab his face and mesh your lips on top of his. Joshua doesn’t respond for a few seconds – and you can almost imagine him staring at you with wide, brown eyes. But eventually, he laughs into the kiss before pressing his mouth firmly against yours.

“That’s fine by me,” you murmur. 

As long as I’m with you.

...

Your hotel room back at Seoul was one of the best you’ve seen, but the one here on Jeju just set the bar even higher. 

Once the two of you have settled down in your suite, you gaze around in awe at the interior. Everything is mostly made out of wood, which further adds to the appeal of it all. Seashell curtains, exotic carpets, hand-made wind chimes – they have it all. Not to mention, this room in particular comes with a private pool just by the balcony, along with a view that overlooks the sea. Joshua teases you about how excited you are – just like a kid on a school trip – but you decide to let his impudence slide.

“Aren’t you going to swim with me?”

You gaze at him sulkily by the edge of the pool, watching as Joshua smokes a cigarette on top of a folding chair. He’s already changed into his swimming trunks – having removed his shirt and other accessories. Yet he still refuses to get in the pool with you. Still, Joshua gets up from his chair with a soft laugh, padding closer as he crouches over the edge.

“You should know about the delicate art of having a smoke while watching your girl have fun,” he tells you, taking a drag as if to prove a point. 

Your eye twitches. “You’re the one who picked out my swimsuit, so you better have fun with me!”

Despite all his bravado, you don’t miss the look on Joshua's face when you yank on his leg – the forward momentum easily making him topple into the swimming pool. You let out an unflattering laugh as he flounders in the water for a few seconds before Joshua rises back to the surface with an annoyed look on his face.

“Hey, I don’t remember you being this much of a brat, princess,” he grumbles, picking off the doused cigarette floating in the pool before tossing it back on the concrete. 

“That’s my way of telling you to quit,” you say, snickering to yourself. “Seriously, it always smells like cigarettes in our old hotel room. The smoke detector must’ve been busted or something… Joshua?”

While you prattled on about the fact that you disliked a habit that he probably formed years before he even met you, Joshua waded through the water and cornered you by the side of the pool. You gulp, observing how the water glistens across his skin as his tattooed chest stands proud for you to see.

“You know, I noticed a little something over the past few days,” he whispers – mouth twitching into a no-good smile as he reaches a hand to cup your jaw. “You really like staring at my chest, don’t you?”

“Wrong. I like staring at your ink.” 

“But it’s still staring, isn’t it?” Joshua breathes out an airy laugh before planting a kiss on your forehead – the same way he did that time at the beauty salon. The patch of skin that’s grazed by his lips burns when he pulls away, and you hate how the sensation spreads across the rest of your face.

“How about we get you inked someday?” he offers. 

“Me? Getting a tattoo?” You blink. “Uh, I used to think about getting one when I was still in college, but…?!”

All of a sudden, this bastard places his hands on your waist before hoisting you out of the water like you weigh nothing more than a bag of rice. You scowl at him, thrashing around and splashing water everywhere. But Joshua doesn’t seem to be bothered by all your flailing. He even seems to be observing your lower body like he’s trying to figure out how to chop up each part for later. 

“Hmm… I think one on your thigh would suit you,” he says, lowering you onto the edge of the pool. “Navel tattoos are pretty hot, too.”

“But what’s the point if no one can see?” you huff. 

“Hey, my tatts are always covered,” Joshua reminds you. “That’s because only a select few are deserving to see them.”

His words ignite a surge of heat inside your chest. If you weren’t blushing before, you certainly are now. “...You think I’m deserving, then?”

Your companion spreads your legs wider, easing himself into the space between as he holds your thighs firmly in his hands. Joshua stares into your eyes with a gaze that’s meant to devour. You’ve always found it odd how much self-control he can actually exercise. Apart from the first night he tried to pounce on you, and that little escapade in the dressing room, he never once tried to make any moves on you again. For someone who talks big about how possessive and territorial he can be, Joshua is being awfully ascetic.

“Of course you are,” he murmurs. “Once we’re done here, I’ll bring you to the best tattoo artist in L.A. He’s the one who did both of my pieces.” 

Something about the promise in his words makes your heart leap with delight. He’s…going to bring you to Los Angeles? 

“Are you going to let me meet your parents, too?” you half-joke, shying away from his intense gaze.

“Why not?” he asks. “My mom loves independent girls. You’ve only been relying on yourself before you met me, right? That’s pretty awesome.”

You shrink away from the compliment, unused to being praised about that segment of your life. “I’m not sure how she’s going to react about me being a hostess, though.”

Joshua shakes his head. “Believe it or not, you’re one of the few people who can put me in my place, sweet girl. I’m convinced that she automatically takes to someone like that.”

“So you’re a problem child, then?”

“Ehh, can’t say I’m not.”

Just when you thought he’ll finally let his self-restraint snap, you and Joshua end up talking about his life in America by the poolside. He tells you about how his father taught him how to fish in the lake the next county over, how to hunt and survive out in the wilderness. He tells you about his mother, and how he’d do anything just to guarantee her safety; even if it comes at the expense of his own. He willingly divulges all his fond memories of his hometown, but not once does Joshua allude to anything involving his work.

You try not to take it so personally. After all, in spite of the drastic development in your…friendship? Relationship? Either way, it doesn’t change the fact that you’re someone he hasn’t really known all that long.  

But as the two of you marvel at the twilight sun sinking on the faraway horizon, it seems that Joshua managed to read your mind.

“Can you believe it’s only been two weeks since we met?” he chuckles, hand inching closer to rest on top of yours.

“Nope,” you sigh. “I feel like I’ve known you far longer than that.”

“Heh. Time really flies when you’re having fun, does it?”

You couldn’t have said it better yourself. Honestly, you can’t even recall the last time you had fun. During the past few months, each day passed by painfully slowly. Despite being adored as Rei the hostess, you never had fun back at the bar; nor did you have fun coming home to your alcoholic of a father. 

As you glance over at Joshua – whose face is generously lit up by the soft orange light – you wonder if it’s really okay to turn your back on your life and just live the rest of your days by his side. It’s only been two weeks, but there was never a dull moment with him. But can you even afford to be more selfish than you already are?

“You really have a staring problem, you know that?”

“...Do you have a sixth sense or something?”

“I’m a trained fighter, princess. I’m supposed to know when I’m being watched.”

There it is – his first casual mention of his line of work. 

You can’t exactly narrow down the possibilities of what exactly it is that Joshua does for a living. You’re pretty sure that he’s in the same type of business as those loan sharks, but on a much larger scale. What’s more is that he’s trained to fight – as if his purpose lies more on confrontation than diplomatic relations. Him being stationed all the way here in Korea gives you a slight clue that he might be trying to settle the score with someone on behalf of his employer, though you can’t really say for sure.

But…you purposely shove all these thoughts in the back of your head as you lace your fingers around his neck – bringing his forehead against yours. Joshua doesn’t resist your advances. He even gazes at you with the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen, a hint of fondness shining in his vibrant irises.

Before meeting the man in front of you, you’ve always assumed that love takes time. You can’t call it love if you don’t even know the person that well! This is the very same thing you used to tell patrons who wanted to start a serious relationship with you back at the bar. But Joshua?

You don’t know how, but he managed to fill that void that’s long been tearing your heart to shreds. That seemingly ephemeral emptiness; the hollow space resting deep inside your chest – he filled it all up in the span of two weeks. Whether it be with all those expensive gifts and trinkets, or his worthwhile company alone, you don’t feel empty anymore. You feel so blissfully whole that you’d gladly lose yourself in him if it meant you never had to feel alone ever again.

“Shua, can I ask for something?”

“Heh. This is new. You never ask for anything,” he comments, and you still smell traces of tobacco in his breath. “What is it? Anything my princess wants, I’ll give to her in a heartbeat.”

On any other day, you would’ve chided him for saying something so cheesy – as if you haven’t gotten used to the way he speaks to you. But now, with the early evening breeze blowing all around, and the man who reminded you how it feels to be alive sitting so, so close to you…

“Can you make me yours?” you whisper.

Joshua stares at you, a low laugh rumbling in his bare chest. “You were already mine the moment you asked to come with me. Or are you forgetting that?”

Hot. His hands are hot against your hips – going lower and lower as he teases the ridge of your bottoms. God, you just want him to get it over with. You want him to grab your ass and take you by the poolside right here, right now. But you know, all too well, that Joshua isn’t going to let himself fall into the depths of his own depravity like that. Not until you give him a clearer sign.

“No…” you murmur, hoisting your thigh over his hips until you’re straddling his lap. “I want you –” You press your breasts against his lean chest. “To make me –” Your fingers trail up his neck, tangling them in his wild black hair. 

“Yours.”

You expect him to tease you like he always does – with that irritatingly handsome smile of his. But Joshua's eyes grow half-lidded as you press yourself closer to him, and you could’ve sworn his grip on your hips only became tighter. 

“You’re playing a dangerous game, pretty girl,” he warns you huskily. “I don’t want you to end up being the sore loser after I’m done with you.”

You chuckle, lips grazing his forehead, his eyelids, his nose. When you reach the spot just over his lips, you let your own hover for just a few seconds longer.

“I know,” you tell him. “I know, and I’m ready to lose.” 

If it’s you, I won’t ever mind.

Joshua lets out a strangled noise, like he’s barely holding on to what’s left of his own sanity. You’re slightly elated at the information. That just means he’s about to let himself go. To ravage you like you deserved. 

You’re not sure if it’s because of his own urgency or he’s just showing off. But Joshua makes a quick display of strength by picking you up while you’re still on his lap and getting back on his feet at the same time. He wastes no time mending your lips together – carnal and hungry and all sorts of impatient. Your legs immediately circle around his hips, and you bemoan all the days you wasted not getting kissed stupid by him.

But you console yourself with the idea that right now, you have all the time in the world.

...

The floorboards are damp with pool water, and so are the sheets. But you hardly notice it as Joshua strips you of the swimsuit he so carefully picked out for you. He tosses the spandex somewhere on the floor, and you even hear the wet plop as it hits. 

You feel like you should be cold – fresh out of the swimming pool and all – but the heat of Joshua’s body steadily permeates into yours, and can’t help but lean closer, closer, as close as you can – 

“I love you,” you whisper in-between kisses, feeling the evidence of his own arousal grinding against your own. You think the words don’t have as much weight when you’re doing something so openly intimate, but you don’t care.

He laughs, the sound sending tingles straight to your toes. “You sure you’re not just getting caught up in the moment, princess?”

You still have it in you to flash him a sulky pout, bringing his face right in front of yours as you spare him all the adoration you have in a single look. You desperately want him to know just how much you love him. You want him to carve this moment into memory and think of it even when the two of you are apart.

You want to anchor yourself so deep into Joshua that he can’t forget you even if he tries.

“Do you think I’m lying?” you whisper.

He sighs. “No.”

When he mouths the words I love you back in his own lust-fueled kisses, your heart soars; your body heats up – becoming more and more receptive to his lingering touch. Joshua’s lips never stray too far, even as he lathers the slick that’s collected between your thighs. His long fingers tease your entrance with the intention of seeing you squirm, and you hate how much you love it.

“Been waiting for you to come to me…for so long,” he growls, sliding two fingers inside you with embarrassing ease. “Do you know how hard it is to control myself around you? Especially after that time in the dressing room?”

Huh, so even he still thinks about that day. You giggle at the ferociousness of his words, but the wanton look in his eyes softens when you caress the side of his face. 

“Two weeks isn’t a long time, Shua,” you tell him. 

“It’s long enough if you’re as pent up as I am.”

As he works his fingers between your thighs, you can’t help but sneak a glance at the hard length straining against his abdomen. It’s been a while, so your mouth practically waters at the thought of Joshua sinking his thick cock inside you – fast and hard and everything you’ve ever dreamed. 

But your attention is promptly ripped away when he curls his fingers just right, catching on a patch of spongy flesh that has you writhing underneath him. Joshua smirks at that, uncoiling his thick digits as he continues slowly pumping them inside. Your juices are starting to drip on his hand – a testament to just how badly you want him. 

When he makes you come, all you see are the vibrant brown of his eyes – like honey in the spring. Joshua looks at you with so much love and longing at the same time, you nearly sob in his embrace.

Despite the implication that he’s no longer going to be patient, Joshua lets you reel your own consciousness back from the throes of pleasure – kissing your forehead tenderly as he caresses your sides. 

“Do you want to go all the way?” he asks, but you already see him stroking his own cock from where he lays beside you. “Remember, I won’t force you into anything you don’t like, princess.”

You shake your head, still lightheaded from your orgasm. But still, the clarity of your desire shines through. “I…want you, Shua. Want you inside me.”

He sighs in a way like he just doesn’t know what to do with you. At your request, Joshua reluctantly peels himself away – earning a mewl in protest from you that he appeases with a kiss. 

“Stay put, pretty girl,” he murmurs. “I’ll make you feel good in a minute.”

Joshua climbs out of bed and walks over to the dresser buck naked. But you can’t even bring yourself to tease because he’s got such a shapely ass. Not to mention, you get to see the dragon tattoo on his back again. Even if you’ve developed a fondness for the twin koi fish on his chest, there’s just something about this piece in particular that’s always left an impression on you.

True to his word, Joshua comes back to bed with you as he tears a condom open with his teeth. You have half the mind to tell him that opening it like that isn’t very safe, but when he rolls the rubber on top of his throbbing length, you’re suddenly too bashful to speak up. 

He spreads your thighs apart, making himself at home in the space in between. You just know he’s getting a kick out of the way your body trembles as he rubs the head of his cock along your glistening seam. 

“Shua,” you whine. 

“You want this inside you?” Joshua teases, dipping himself into your entrance only to pull away before you can even feel an ounce of satisfaction. “C’mon, talk to me, princess. You know I like it when you’re being honest about the things you want.”

“Please…” 

“Hm? What was that?”

You hate him. You hate him so much that the feeling gradually bleeds into love. And if you aren’t already whipped for this jerk, you don’t know what this obsessive feeling inside you is anymore.

“Please fuck me,” you whimper. “Make me come on your cock.”

Joshua breathes sharply through his nose as he leans forward, grabbing both of your wrists as he pins them above your head with one hand. He uses the other to guide his length to where you want him most, and the moment before he finally, finally breaches your entrance, he whispers:

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.”

He muffles the broken moan that catches in your throat with his own lips – his lean arm going around your waist as he presses his hips flush against yours. You’re dripping enough arousal onto the sheets that Joshua doesn’t even have to take it as slow as he expected. You instinctively clench around the hard length inside you, memorizing the way he stretches out your walls, and Joshua responds in earnest with an impertinent groan.

There’s no room for words anymore. All you know is the sound of skin against skin and your mouth almost never parting from his. Joshua fills you until the void you feared might swallow you whole becomes nothing but a tiny speck in your soul. You wonder if it’s enough to be two separate people, and not just one. His touches, his kisses – they aren’t enough. And even when he pushes himself so impossibly deep, you still find yourself wanting, craving, yearning for more.

You’re insatiable. You love Joshua so much that your heart overflows with it. Maybe you’re simply deluded because he’s the first person who’s treated you like you were important; and not just some forgettable girl he met at a bar. But that doesn’t change the fact that you want him to hold you, and touch you, and love you until you forget everything else but the syllables of his name.

He practically folds you into the bed a few moments later as he mouths his professions of love along the curve of your neck. You lock your legs around his waist to keep him as close as possible – not wanting to be apart for even a millisecond. And Joshua seems to share the same sentiments as he embraces so you’d never leave his grasp.

I need you, you wish to tell him. He’s already giving you so much and more, but you still need him. It’s the kind of hankering that nearly scares you because how can you ever live without him now? But the flames of your own, all-consuming desire quickly recede once he captures your lips in a soft, almost sensual kiss. 

“I love you,” Joshua tells you aloud. 

You know it should be impossible because your lovers from the past have never even tried to get you to orgasm once they were done with you. But the moment he utters those words, and shifts his hips at such a delicious angle, he promptly pushes you over the edge – making you thrash and shudder underneath his weight as you mutter his name like a string of prayers. 

You just hope that the gods are generous enough to let you have him forever.

…

The beaches in Seoul and Andong pale in comparison to Jeju's – you promptly realize this when Joshua brings you out to the shore a few days later.

“I’ve never really enjoyed going to beaches until now,” you admit, laughing a bit as Joshua reaches for your hand and twines his fingers with yours. “I’m surprised you even have the time to come all the way here despite being on the job.”

He shrugs casually, and at the same time you care to admire how he looks in a tropical-printed button up that’s completely undone at the front. “Well, my deadline isn’t all that strict, pretty girl. I’m sure I can afford a quick getaway with you.”

You smile at him sweetly while the both of you stroll along the beachfront. Sometimes, the waves reach out to the shore far enough for the water to reach your toes, and you squeal in delight every time you do. You’d be lying if you say you didn’t expect Joshua to tease, but when you look at him, he merely looks back like you’re the most precious thing in the world.

Like all lovers spending their morning on the beach, the two of you agreed to collect the prettiest seashells you can find. Though it was a bit hard, since there are a couple of signs indicating which ones you’re allowed to bring home, and which ones you should leave alone. Something about maintaining the ecosystem around the shore. 

But about half an hour before lunch time, Joshua calls out to you at the edge of the property.

The sundress he made you wear today flutters around your thighs as you make your way to his side. He’s crouched down on the sand as he picks up a peculiar brown shard.

“Wait,” you start, taking a closer look. “Is that a seashell? A broken seashell?”

“Seems like it,” he replies, retrieving the other pieces he can still salvage from the sand. “This doesn’t look like all the others we’ve seen though”

Joshua takes your hand and pressing the fragments into your palm. When you take a look at them, you realize the pieces are the same color as his eyes. 

“Do you…” you begin shyly, “want to make matching necklaces out of them? They’re a bit jagged now, but I know a jeweler back in Andong who –”

“Oh? So you do want to go back,” he jokes.

“Fine, never mind then.” 

Joshua’s laughter is slightly muted by the oncoming waves. Once your momentary annoyance fades, the two of you sit on the sand with your legs sprawled – letting the water tickle your toes. 

“I know I made a pretty bad joke just now, but can I ask you something?” he wonders.

“What is it?”

“It’s about the loan your dad supposedly took without your knowledge.” Joshua starts tracing idle shapes in the sand as he speaks. “You seemed in deep shit the night I met you, and I just wanted to know if there’s anything I can do to help.”

With his money and influence, you’re sure that Joshua could pull a few strings to get those debt collectors to lay off you. But it won’t really matter if you never go back to Andong, right? Still, you tell him about the five million won that your father suddenly loaned. How those loan sharks told you that he said that you’re going to pay for it all – on top of your remaining balance for the month. Just recalling it was already enough to piss you off all over again.

At the end of your story, though, Joshua ends up snorting with amusement.

“Sounds to me like you’re being tricked, princess,” he chuckles. “No one can rack up a debt that high unless you’re a trusted confidant. I’m sure the Korean mafia has limits to how much they’re willing to loan other people at a certain given time. Those loan sharks probably tricked you and forged the document because you were paying out the previous debt properly.” 

Your jaw practically drops to the ground. “They tricked me?”

“Seems like it. And now, you have grounds for a lawsuit! Maybe. I’m not sure, but I can help you pay for a lawyer if it all gets down to it.” Joshua shrugs. “Anyway, now that you know that the loan was probably a scam, why don’t you go back and talk to your old man? Isn’t he the only family you have?”

Your dad… Well, now you feel a bit bad for judging him so harshly. It doesn’t change the fact that he’s an alcoholic and a gambler, but you do see him trying to be better from time to time. 

“Yeah. My mom died when I was in high school, and it’s just been us ever since.” You tell him all this without meeting his eyes, unsure of how to react if he gazes at you with pity. But Joshua doesn’t offer his condolences, nor does he try to cheer you up. Instead, he suggests something that you probably should do.

“You should go back to your father,” he whispers. “I’m sure he’s worried sick.”

The waves wash upon the shore again, and this time, you actually turn around to look at him. Is he serious? Is this the same, so-called territorial man you met two weeks ago? If any of the things he’s told you were true, that’s the last thing you expected for Joshua to say to your face.

“If your father isn’t behind that loan fiasco, then you should at least let him know you’re okay, princess,” he tells you sincerely, rubbing your hand with comforting circles. “You’re the last family he has left, and I’m sure you know what loss does to a person.”

You sit there in the silence, letting Joshua’s words simmer inside your mind. You suppose that he’s right about everything. Those assumptions you made about your father are unfair, and you shouldn’t just abandon him now that Joshua helped clear up the misunderstanding. You know all these things, and you recognize them as what’s truthful and right. 

But…why does Joshua sound like he’s saying goodbye?

“Okay, I’ll do that,” you say, forcing your voice not to tremble. “But once you finish your mission, promise that you’ll take me to L.A.?”

He stares at you with equal parts surprise and disbelief – his handsome face twisting with a grin so lovely, you wonder why he never smiled at you like this before. Joshua shakes his head before rising back to his feet, hoisting you up by your waist as he spins you around.

You shriek in bewilderment, telling him to put you back down. He doesn’t relent right away, but once Joshua finally heeds your desperate request he sets you down on the sand – placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

“Alright, princess. What do you want to do there?”

You puff out your cheeks, not liking how it sounds as if he’s teasing you. Nonetheless, you give him the straightest answer you can manage.

“I want to meet your family. Your parents. Your friends. Everyone,” you tell him. “I want to go fishing because you love it so much, and it helps you meditate.”

Joshua hums. “America is leagues different from Korea, though. You sure about that?”

“Hmph. You’ll make a nice tour guide, won't you?”

“Heh.” He moves closer to wrap his arms around your frame, embracing you so firmly that you can’t help but melt into his touch. “Of course I will, pretty girl. But what do you want to do after we do all that?”

You flash him a puzzled look. “What?”

“Since we’re planning so far ahead, we might as well plan until the end, right?” He chuckles, one hand going to the side of your face as he touches you tenderly. “What else does my demanding princess wish for?”

For a moment, you consider his question seriously. What happens after? Well…

“I want to travel,” you say. “I took up an international relations course when I was in college ‘cause I always wanted to see the world.”

Joshua nods. “And?”

You gulp – unsure if what you’re about to say is a bit selfish or not. “Well, getting to see some places around Korea with you was the best time of my life. And I’m sure it’ll be just as fun if we see the world together.”

It sounds like such a juvenile dream, now that you think about it. But sometimes, even the most childish desires can lead to the most unforgettable experiences. You only decided to tag along with Joshua on a whim, and it turned out to be one of the best choices you’ve ever made.

You just hope he feels the same way, too.

He nods again, a pesky smile rooting itself on his face. When Joshua kisses the hand that isn’t clutching shards of broken brown seashells, you can’t help but blush.

“What the princess wants, the princess gets.”

It’s already high noon by the time the two of you conclude your seashell hunting session, and Joshua is already complaining about breakfast not being heavy enough. You let your gaze linger around the beautiful beachfront just a bit longer, wondering if you can visit this place again with him in the future.

“Joshua?”

He pauses mid-way in his rant, gazing at you with curious, brown eyes. “Yeah?”

You crack him a warm smile. “Can you tell me your real name?”

The ocean’s waves reach your ears again in the silence, as Joshua stands in front of you like you’d just unraveled all the secrets of the universe. You don’t miss the way his emotions seemingly conflict in his eyes, but in the end, he spares you the truth anyway.

“Jisoo.”

“Do you love me, Jisoo?”

He crosses the distance between you before you can even breathe, kissing you so deeply that you’re a little concerned that some of the hotel staff might be watching and judging you on the sidelines. But you know better than to give a damn about what others think when you’re with Joshua – no, Jisoo.  

When he pulls away, you can almost see the ocean glimmering in your lover’s eyes.

“More than anything in the world.”

...

Despite that romantic morning, you can’t help but feel like something bad’s about to happen. Your mother used to tell you that you should always trust your gut. And right now, your gut is telling you that everything that’s making you unbelievably happy right now is going to disappear right before your eyes. 

The anxiousness that comes with all that foreboding does little to help you keep up appearances, too. During dinner, Joshua – because he asked you to keep calling him that in public for your own safety – was telling you about the time he almost got run over as a kid, and you completely spaced out in the middle of it.

Of course, your sharp-eyed lover is keen enough to notice just how distracted you were. You attempted to make excuses for your lack of focus, but one thing led to another, and you ended up spilling wine all over your new sundress.

And now here you are, sulking in your bedroom as Joshua makes the arrangements to have your dress dry-cleaned on the intercom before you have to leave.

“Is something wrong?”

His voice comes out so softly, you nearly miss it. He sits with you at the edge of the bed, reaching out to clasp your hand in his much larger ones. The gesture is comforting, but your unease doesn’t fade away.

Should you tell him about this weird gut feeling? But you don’t want him to worry about you when this is probably just something trivial. Yet, you’ve always been weak to your own emotions. Before you can even cook up another half-baked excuse, the tears have already started streaming down your face.

“Everything’s going so well,” you sniffle, turning to him with misty eyes. “Y-You’re right in front of me but… Why do I feel like you’re already slipping away?”

Joshua's face doesn’t betray any sort of emotion. His honeyed eyes merely flicker down to where your hands are intertwined, and you don’t know if you should take that as a good sign or not.

“I’ll always be with you, you know,” he whispers, letting one of his hands trail up to the new necklace sitting on your throat before the other moves to wipe away your tears. “Always.”

A traveling jeweler offered to fashion a necklace out of the seashell fragments you found once you got back from the beachfront. And while this isn’t the work of your acquaintance from Andong, they managed to carve out the shell to resemble a heart. They even charged you for the labor only, and gave the chain for free. At first, you wanted to refuse, but these pesky feelings were already bothering you at the beach. 

Is it so bad for you to want a tangible representation of Joshua’s promises?

The fact that he wears a similar necklace eases your troubles a bit. It makes you think that maybe it’s really all just in your head. Though you know better than to think you’re out of the woods.

That night, he undresses you with unspoken apologies imbued in each kiss. You wonder if he’s sorry for unintentionally making you feel this way or something else. You don’t know. You don’t care. Because when you’re on the verge of collapsing from all these unpleasant feelings, it’s Joshua who holds you together before you can shatter into a thousand pieces at his feet. 

That’s right… Joshua – rather, Jisoo always fills you to the brim. He fills you with so much love that you can almost forget what it feels to be void; what it feels to be empty. 

But in the midst of it, he pulls away with a regretful sigh. “We already used up the condoms I have, princess. This is as far as we can go.”

“It’s – It’s alright.”

He snaps his head in your direction, beautiful brown eyes rigid with shock. But you don’t give him any leeway to feel guilt nor hesitation. When you pull him down with you to the bed, he doesn’t strain against your touch.

Jisoo is the reason why the life you thought was so dull suddenly has more color to it now. He taught you to have a little more hope for the future. To reevaluate the past for what it actually is. And most of all, he’s the one who taught you how to treasure yourself as you are in the present. 

If this is the last night you’ll ever share with him, then you’re going to make the most out of it.

...

“So we hop on a plane to Incheon, a train to Andong, and talk to my dad.” You list down the day’s itinerary before glancing at Joshua for confirmation. “Sounds like a plan, right?”

“I dunno, princess. Meeting the parents always makes me nervous,” he chuckles.

“...So you have met the parents of other girls.”

“Hey, that was only one time!”

You and Joshua managed to head over to the airport fairly quickly the next day – with a lot of time to kill before your plane actually leaves the island. The two of you decide to hang out in the waiting lounge, but this reminds you to not be too early for your flights next time. Apart from those weird negative feelings you had last night, boredom is your greatest enemy.

About thirty minutes before boarding time, you carelessly let slip that you’re craving some coffee right now. Joshua is quick to get on his feet and get you one from a nearby vending machine, of course. But just when he’s about to take a seat right beside you, he blurts out:

“I’m really glad I met you, princess.” He smiles, handing you your drink. “Even if you’re growing more and more bratty as the days go by.”

“You’re the one who made me like this, so deal with it.” You huff, before following it up with a much nicer: “But…I’m glad I met you, too, Jisoo.”

You half-expect him to clamp a hand around your mouth for calling him by his real name, but Joshua simply lets his head rest against your shoulder, holding your hand as tenderly as he always does.

“Hey, I’m just going to go out for a real quick smoke.”

Joshua informs you of his unnecessary need for a cancer stick just when you’ve settled into your seat on the plane. You scowl at him as he places that knapsack full of cash into your arms. 

“We’re about to take off, you idiot!” you whisper. “Can’t that wait until we land in Seoul?”

“Nope.” He beams at you. “I won’t be long, don’t worry~”

And then he’s off.

“Goddamn chainsmokers,” you mutter, angrily plopping the damn backpack to the vacant seat right next to you. 

As you watch the scenery in the airport unfold from the window to your left, you catch sight of your own reflection despite the bright light outside. Your hands trail up to the modified seashell around your neck, twirling it fondly between your fingers. This is the first solid proof of the time you spent with Joshua. You’re sure that he’s going to spoil you with even more gifts when you get to L.A., but this one is probably going to be your favorite for a long, long time. 

After all, this seashell is the same color as his eyes. 

Suddenly, you hear a clicking sound coming from above, and when you glance around, you see that the seatbelt sign is lit up. A soft voice flits through the speakers, informing all passengers that the aircraft is ready for takeoff. Frowning deeply, you call the attention of a nearby attendant. 

“Excuse me, my boyfriend isn’t here yet.”

She stares at you, puzzled. “I’m sorry, miss. But we confirmed that all paid passengers are already in their seats.”

At that second, your world crumbles. The void begins to rip itself back into your heart. The attendant asks if there’s anything wrong, but you dismiss her with a shake of your head.

Why do I feel like you’re slipping away from my fingers?

As you sit all alone in that plane, you realize that your mother was right all along. 

You should’ve trusted your goddamn gut.

...

Joshua smokes through half his pack of cigarettes when he makes it outside the airport – lingering by the parking lot as he watches each plane soar into the sky. He has no idea which one you’re on, or if you’re even still here on Jeju Island. But with each painful drag he forces into his lungs, he finds himself praying.

Praying that you’ll forgive him for what he just did. Praying that you’ll be able to find happiness even without him. 

His phone rings before his guilt gets the better of his emotions. The name S.Coups flashes on the encrypted caller ID.

“Took you long enough to pick up,” the informant sighs. “For someone who’s in dire need of intelligence, you’re acting awfully lax, Shua. Let’s see… You’re looking for Jeonghan. Is that right?”

He kills his last cigarette under his heel – all those feelings you effortlessly stirred up inside him dying along with the waning flame.

“Bullseye,” he replies, voice tinged with his usual mirth despite feeling like he’s just lost everything good in his life. “You got anything for me?”

Yeah, that’s right.

You don’t need someone like him to be happy.

…

The hotel room you booked for the night is small and quiet.

When you shut the door behind you, the sound rings in your ears – loud enough to emphasize that you’re all alone. You decide not to pay it any mind before dragging the rest of your luggage further inside. 

When you arrived at Incheon Airport a few hours earlier, you couldn’t even muster up the tears. All you felt was that familiar emptiness that never seemed to leave you alone until Joshua came into your life. A dreadful void that was twice as massive now that you got a taste of how it feels like to be whole. 

Once you’ve claimed your baggage, you wasted no time ushering yourself out of the terminal. You’ve long decided to stay in Incheon for a while, given that you couldn’t exactly meet your father in such a state. But before making your way to the nearest hotel you could find, you made it a point to stop by a convenience store to buy a lighter and pack of cigarettes. 

For someone who’s more loaded than you could ever hope to be, Joshua liked smoking cheap brands. He told you it’s because those things could easily be bought anywhere. But his reasons for the odd preference were the last thing on your mind as you light up the first stick – taking a long drag that ends up making you cough out smoke and brings tears in your eyes. 

You fucking hate cigarettes. This is going to be one of the cold hard truths in your life. You hated them when you still worked as a hostess, and you hated them every time Joshua had the gall to smoke one in front of you.

…But this is the only piece of him that you have left to cling to. You like to think that each stick can help fill the void, even if it’s just smoke and ashes and false hopes. You always wondered why Joshua couldn’t bring himself to forego the habit. But maybe – just maybe – there’s also a void inside him. One that can’t easily be filled, the same one you’ve always struggled with.

Before that train of thought can fester any longer, you kill it along with the fifth cancer stick you’ve had for the day. The ashtray is full of cigarettes you could barely smoke past the filter, but you’re not about to give a shit.

In the solitude of your room, you wonder if you can ever forget those sunsets in Jeju. How your toes sank into the sand. How the salty ocean breeze tossed your hair around. If you close your eyes, you can still feel it on your skin.

But most of all, you ask yourself – can you ever forget Jisoo?

His eyes. His hair. His stupid tattoos. You abhorred how he always smelled like cigarettes, yet you’ve locked yourself up in some fancy hotel room to smoke a few just because you’re left with a ridiculous amount of laundered cash. Along with the bags full of those pretentious gifts he gave you, you selfishly kept the money because you deserve the goddamn means to take a real break from it all.

You don’t pay attention to the rest of your luggage – eyes solely focused on the knapsack lying idly on the mattress. Against your better judgment, you force yourself back to your feet, padding towards the bed as you open the zipper. 

Cash, cash, another wad of cash. You scoop every single piece out of the bag for no real reason. Is this solving any of your problems? No. Does it help you vent out your feelings? Yes. 

Stupid Jisoo, and his stupid fucking promises. Well, he never explicitly promised you anything, but still! What kind of evil maniac lets a hapless maiden fall in love with them, only to leave them hanging? Not all unfortunate ladies who’ve been pathetically led on by a handsome man were left with hundreds of thousands of won as some sort of compensation, sure. But that didn’t change the fact that you were fucking grieving.

You wanted to shout. To break something. To curse Jisoo Whatever-his-last-name-is so he can never find another woman like you. But once you reach the bottom of the knapsack, your anger is quick to go up in smoke.

There’s a red baseball cap inside – the same one Jisoo was wearing the night you met him.

You didn’t cry when you realized the love of your life had left you without saying goodbye. You didn’t cry as you carried your luggage alone in the airport. You didn’t cry either when you marched into this lonely, lonely hotel room.

But somehow, seeing that bright red cap made everything crash over you like a tidal wave.

“I thought you loved me more than anything in the world,” you murmur to yourself, holding that silly hat to your chest like a goddamn lifeline. 

“Was that a hoax all along...Jisoo?”

...

The small village near Silverwood Lake is remote yet accessible at the same time. It’s the heart of tourism in the lesser known counties in California, so it comes as no surprise to see a dozen people bustling in and out of the borders.

In that same town, a young boy with big brown eyes wanders around the market – dark tufts peeking from beneath a tattered baseball cap. Though he seems like any other local his age, he doesn't actually know the language. His English is still a bit lacking, but he swears half of the time that his mother teaches him bits and pieces when she has time.

Right now, she’s somewhere by the lakeside, talking with an important political figure in the town as his entourage shows her around the area. The boy wasn’t a fan of all those pleasantries, so he asked her if he could look around in the market instead. Like all mothers, her initial reaction was to tell him no, but eventually, the puppy eyes he’s practiced on her for years made good on their purpose.

Fine. Just don’t wander too far, Shuji. Promise?

As much as he dislikes breaking promises with his mother – he knows how sensitive she is about those, despite her age – the young boy figures that what she doesn’t know won’t kill her. He’s fifteen now. Even if he’s in a foreign country, he’s smart enough not to get lost in unfamiliar places.

So, when he finds nothing interesting in the market, the boy follows a merchant’s route that bypasses a huge forest. This is the road that he and his mother took on the way to the town, so he’s slightly familiar with the terrain. But still, the perspectives are warped when one traverses it on foot.

He follows the route just like he initially planned – admiring the looming pine trees rising everywhere he looked. His mother has taken him to all sorts of places because of her job, but America might make it to the top of his list at this rate. Though, his eyes are quick to spot a fork in the road – one barely visible unless you know what you’re looking for. 

The boy glances around, but no one else is in sight.

Ravens caw overhead as he traverses the stray path. Dead leaves and crunch underfoot as the trees seem to grow thicker around him. Anyone else would feel terrified of being in such a place, but the boy has always had a knack for braving the unknown.

His courage is rewarded once he arrives at the end of the road, revealing a magnificent lake that he could never hope to see if he’d stuck to the main route. This one's different from Silverwood Lake. It's much smaller, and less polluted by civilization.

He stares at the scenery with wide eyes, taking out his phone from the pocket of his jacket before snapping a few pictures to show his mother for later.

“Hey, kid. What are you doing here?”

The boy startles at the sound of another voice, and he realizes that there’s another person sharing this view with him. A man, much older than he is, sits on a foldable chair by the edge of the lake – fishing rod in hand as he tosses the reel into the water.

“Just…looking around.” He only replies with broken English because he doesn’t think the stranger is someone sketchy. The boy even notices the sturdy looking crutch propped against his seat. “What are you doing?”

For a moment, the man simply looks at him before surprising the boy with very fluent Korean.

“Fishing. What else do you think it looks like, kid?” the man says a-matter-of-factly as he rakes his fingers through his dark yet graying hair. 

He gulps before switching to his mother tongue. “There’s fish underneath?”

“Of course there's fish underneath.” The fisherman rolls his eyes. “You’re not from around here, are you? You lost?”

The boy shakes his head. “I told you, I was just looking around.”

“Okay. Tell your parents to come get you then,” the man tells him – growing slightly annoyed at his peaceful fishing session having been interrupted. 

“My mother’s busy. My father’s a scumbag who left her alone.” The young boy shrugs. “I’m pretty much free to do whatever I want, mister.”

A few moments pass by in silence, and he wonders if he said something strange. But either way, the man’s irritation morphs into amusement. “Shitty dad, huh?” he chuckles. “That’s right. Don’t ever forgive the people who’d hurt your mom. What’s your name, kid?”

The stranger jolts his fishing rod before the boy can give an answer, hauling a fish out of the water right before his eyes before dumping his latest catch in a wicker basket. 

“Jisoo,” the boy tells him. “But my mom calls me Shuji”

To his surprise, the man simply nods. “Cool name.”

“Aren’t you going to say it’s weird or something?”

“Now you’re just asking too many questions.”

“My mom said it’s common courtesy to exchange names on the first meeting,” the boy huffs. “So are you going to tell me or not?” 

The man sighs. “You’re really demanding for a kid. Kinda reminds me of someone I used to know.”

“...I’m leaving.”

“Ah! Wait a sec, lemme just pack up and I’ll head back to the harbor with you. If you wander around, you might just get mauled by the wolves,” the man tuts, already putting away his reel before folding his chair back up. That’s when the boy notices a glint of brown attached to a cord around his neck. He squints.

Has he seen that necklace before? 

But there isn’t exactly much room to ponder about that. The man is struggling to tidy up on both feet – clearly unfit to protect anyone from woodland predators. The boy wonders if he’s injured himself so badly before that the aftermath still lingers. But still, he finds it a bit awkward to just stand around, so he walks over to him with a defeated sigh, offering to carry the fish basket and chair in his stead.

“What happened to your leg?” he wonders.

The man brushes the hair out of his face, looking forward as he leans on his crutch. “Got fucked up by a bunch of…gangsters a few years back. Haven’t been the same since.”

“...My mom knows a lot of doctors all over the world,” the boy says. “I’m sure she can find someone who can help you walk normally again.”

“Hm? Aren’t you being too generous to someone you just met, kid?”

He frowns. “I was taught by mom to treat everyone with basic decency.”

“Heh. You really love your mom, don’t you? Does she travel a lot?”

“For work, yeah. She’s a diplomat.” 

The boy wonders if this is really okay. His mother might just be mortified at the thought of her only son talking to a stranger like they’ve known each other for years. But there’s just something about this man that he can’t quite pin down. Something that makes it easy to talk to him, even if they only met literally ten minutes earlier.

Well, his mother was looking for fresh catches to have for dinner anyways. Maybe she’ll let his penchant for making friends in unlikely places slide once he introduces her to this strange fisherman with fucked up legs.

⟢ end notes: if you made it this far, congrats UEYRUEF I KNOWWWW i have a shit ton of wips waiting in line, but i've been contemplating abt repurposing this fic for joshua for SOOOOO LONG. after hearing some advice from a few friends, i decided to just go for it and viola! 18k words shua angst was born out of nowhere. i felt so EMPTY the first time i finished writing it, so i hope you feel the same way too :3c

[bluegiragi]

hello! i'm gira, i go by she/her, and i've been making fanart for the cod fandom for about four months now :) the majority of that time's been spent on the soapbox saga, which is sort of just what i call the very plot-ridden porn comic featuring ghost, soap and konig. and recently i've been working on the monster 141 au!

i'm here to address the reasoning behind how i assigned certain monsters to certain characters, particularly the POC characters as well as accusations of racism regarding me neglecting gaz in all my art :) whoever you are, if you're reading this in good faith, i thank you! i earnestly never intended to make anyone feel uncomfortable from my work.

The Monster AU

i won't post the blog who brought this issue up mainly because, (realistically speaking) i think people might go after them and spam them with hate so I'm paraphrasing here. but basically..."how come all the POC in the Monster AU are assigned animal-associated monsters? Comparisons to animals can be incredibly demeaning when it comes to minorities".

I completely agree! But earnestly, I think my desire to assign every character a 'monster' that was relevant to their culture overshadowed the part of my brain that would've raised red flags about this sort of thing. There's the argument here that I could've assigned these characters cooler monsters such as Price who is a dragon, and Ghost who is a wraith, but I wanted to be respectful of all the minorities in the COD cast by giving them creatures that reflected their culture and personality.

ALEJANDRO - NAGUAL

In the Monster AU, Alejandro is a nagual, which is considered a guardian spirit in Mesoamerican culture. Typically, it's said that the nagual is the shapeshifted form that powerful men can transform into in order to do evil (although that doesn't apply in this case, Ale's a heroic lad), and can come in the forms of a jaguar, deer, dog or bird. I chose a jaguar, since it seemed to be the most common form of nagual depiction in the resources I was looking at. The 'panther mode' isn't pre-established as part of nagual mythology, but since most panthers are just black jaguars, i thought the association wouldn't be unreasonable.

I chose Alejandro to be a nagual because it's so in character for him to be protective of his home. The idea of him being a literal guardian spirit for all he considers his just made sense to me :)

--

RODOLFO (RUDY) - CADEJOS

In this AU, Rudy is the vessel for two cadejos, which are legendary dog spirits popular in the mythology of Central America, parts of South America and Mexico. Historically, they've been known as psychopomps (guides to help humans into the afterlife following their death) but modern interpretation has shifted to depict them as the good guardian dog and the evil attacking dog respectively.

A lot of the minute information about the cadejos tends to differ depending on the source. Like whether they're actually two separate dogs, or they're the same dog just in different 'modes', or how big they are. My personal depiction of them has them sized as normal dogs (although their spirit nature means they can move into small spaces pretty easily by just becoming immaterial temporarily) and as separate spirits that have been passed down through Rudy's family generationally.

I chose the cadejo for Rudy because although I wanted to include him in the Monster AU, i still liked keeping him as a character who was a bit more 'human' than Alejandro. I think Ale needs Rudy to hold him back sometimes, and having the two cadejo definitely helps with that. Sort of like how cheetahs in zoos have therapy dogs growing up because they're so anxious all the time! I think it also does a good job of showing Rudy's two sides as well, like he's a softie who just wants to protect those he loves, but he's capable of a lot of violence too.

--

VALERIA - GORGON

Valeria is a gorgon which, admittedly, is not part of Mexican mythology. However, I was put in a bit of a bind here, since my research didn't really reveal to me a monster in Mexican culture that I thought would suit Valeria's vibe (manipulative, elulsive) and I just felt like a gorgon would be perfect for her. Medusa's myth has her being continuously demeaned by the men in her life and is a symbol of female empowerment, which I thought was a great reflection of the implied reason that Valeria left the army was due to internal sexism. There's also the perfect parallel of how anyone who sees El Sin Nombre's face dies, and Medusa's whole 'turn you to stone' thing.

I thought i could compromise by making Valeria a gorgon but her hair would be Mexican black kingsnakes but...turns out they're actually not that dangerous. Some people even keep them as pets! So I decided to keep the visual, but make her a pit viper, a subfamily of vipers found in the Americas as well as Eurasia.

--

HORANGI - HAETAE

Horangi is a haetae (해태) which is a beast in Korean mythology that typically comes in the form of a horned lion or dog. It's prevalent in a lot of cultures in East Asia actually, although it goes under different names depending on the region - kaichi for Japan, xiezhi for China. I made Horangi a tiger variant on the creature because...well...'horangi' means 'tiger' in korean. It just made sense to me to put that little twist on it.

Typically, haetae are seen as spirits of judgement, that decide on innocent and guilty parties in disputes and punish the latter. It's also considered a guardian against fire (hence the fire immunity and cloud manipulation powers I gave him).

GAZ - HARPY

Gaz is a harpy which, I won't lie, was purely inspired by the fact that he seems to keep falling out of helicopters. But it's also because...yeah, I did neglect Gaz in the soapbox saga. But I think I neglected...everyone in the soapbox saga who weren't directly involved in the main ship. I sort of just tunnel visioned on the main three, so my exclusion of characters isn't just limited to Gaz, it was included Price, Laswell, Alejandro, Rudy, Graves etc.

I just want to make clear that my treatment of Gaz in particular isn't reflective of any inner preference against him. And to make good on that, me assigning Gaz wings of all things was to help me spend more time on him in the Monster AU! I think the contrast between Gaz being an upstart harpy, and Price being a one-winged dragon has a lot of potential as a mentor/protege relationship (and perhaps even something more) and it's why I assigned this monster to him. I really wanted to establish a connection upfront, but just making Gaz another dragon felt cheap - the harpy thing felt a little more in turn with his character :)

--

I really hope this cleared up any remaining frustrations with my designs for the Monster AU. I hope you can see that I never meant anything demeaning by assigning these monsters to their respective characters - in fact, I earnestly tried to go out of my way and be respectful to their backgrounds.

In any case, if you have any more questions I'd be happy to answer them - I'd just ask you to please ask politely :)

[luna-mad-talks]

Dear Ao3 Wakfu writers...

Please please please please rise up and write for these troupes:

• Yugo with his wings. Now that ss4 ep11 has brought us Yugo being so freely out with his wings I think we as a fandom can write so much shenanigans with them. Someone in the brotherhood giving him head massage and trying to navigate with the wings being sensitive/fluttering, nightlight, them betraying Yugo's emotions even more visibly than his hat ears, Yugo stimming and the wings flapping wildly or just people asking can they touch them and describe what the wings feel like as well as how Yugo feels about this interaction after years of hiding them aarryGGjiinuguercb

• Aftermath of Torture. Yeah okay you can not be telling me ss4 ep9 wasn't torture? Anyways Yugo be riding that war adrenaline but I'd like to think this affected him moreso than he'd thought and after things settled he has to have some long comfirting talks and hugs (and snuggles) to resolve his feelings. Hurt/Comfort

• Body dysmorphia! The transition of his small form to his much bigger one is violent as hell but I'd also like some fics exploring on him feeling trapped/uncomfort in his younger body and finally feeling okay after he grows up :D

• Wedding fics :D (That has "No Yugo you can not wear this to your own wedding I don't care if you made it out of your own wakfu")

• Feral aldult Yugo >:D

• Protective Yugo with Amalia now that they are King and Queen with a whole lot of aldult duties

• Yugo being a dork still (his older expressions are so cute !!!!???!!)

• The Eliatropes being eldritch because I'm a honest sucker for the unnerving entities troup

• Powerful Yugo and people's reactions to him

• Introspection on him and his Mom because wow she just up and left huh (I mean I partly understand,,, but still)

These don't need to be super groundbreaking or plotty or even 100% accurate to the series or anything long at all I just need more Wakfu fanfics please

[bloggingboutburgers]

I think everyone will benefit from properly tagging posts. xreader fics abd ship fics ONLY include the relevent _x_ tags but none of the character's name on its own, allowing all the usual fanart, theories and such to stay on the main name tag and not be crowded out by horny fanfiction (I say this as someone who very much enjoys very horny, very smutty xreader fanfictions. I want to be able to search the fics I want directly without having to trawl through headcanon posts, fanart, unrelated ship posts, etc.).

No one really has a tailored experience on the internet (I'm glad tumblr is at least a little more user dictated than advertiser algorithm based), but I do get the frustration and discomfort that comes from the abundant hornyposting feeling inescapable.

It's tempting to take offence to persistent cries against xreader stuff. I like special POV episodes of shows for the same reason I like xreader fics. My favourite characters WERE the company I kept, my only real form of companionship (albeit simulated) for many many years. Not because I am allo, basically. I sought something to meet my social needs growing up where I was unable to find community or companionship in real life.

Unfortunately, because they are usually sexual in nature I just came to associate a need for human connection with sex (so am I allo or just conditioned to blend sexual, platonic and romantic feelings and actions together?). I was just happy to feel like I had someone to hang out with. I knew they weren't real and that I needed to find real people to connect with (not for lack of trying, kids are just cruel. Finally made friends as an adult, yay).

Didn't intend for any of that to be so sad or pathetic, but hopefully it gives context for the prevalence of xreader fics. Alongside the varied reasons people write / read them (no just blind allo horniness), especially in light of the widespread loneliness epidemic over the past decade.

It's still more than ok to not want anything to do with them either (be it due to being aroace or not - I know plenty of allos who find xreader fics cringe).

Something I need to clarify here – we get it. Well, we don't fundamentally get it, but trust me, we've been told time and time again why people would write/draw/be into xreader content (it's all part of the package of "aroaces MUST put themselves in allo people's shoes at all times"), and we know they're perfectly legitimate reasons, and we don't find it sad or pathetic, or cringe. At the very least I don't at all. That's not what it's about. It's not something as surface-level at that.

The thing is... The same kind of understanding effort is VERY rarely put forward in return for us. And the fact that we're perceived as naysayers is symptomatic of this. We're not crying against xreader content. People are free to do whatever they want. We just want it to be tagged to keep ourselves safe, and so we can appreciate some variety and find fandom content we can properly connect with with the identity we have.

The issue isn't that there is xreader content, or heck, that there's lots of it. It's that, as @kaoruko-han put it, "everyone is assumed to be into this", and that you can't express something as simple as "I'd rather read something else" without being finger-pointed as a villain.

Yeah, no one has a tailored experience online, but there's still a very clear lack of balance on what is acceptable to tailor to or not (and for us, that includes tumblr). And trying to find fan-content while being sex-repulsed? Bruh, you'd better pray on your lucky stars and be ready to trudge through an ocean of stuff that's loaded with the very thing that makes you scared, uncomfortable or downright triggers a feeling of sickness in you, because a lot of it ain't tagged. An alarming amount of people don't bother, because why would people like you exist, right? There's only ever them, and puritan bigots. It's that black and white in a lot of people's heads.

Here's the difference though: we, too, want people to be able to vibe to whatever fan content they want. We just wish "people" included us properly in this case. As it stands now, trying to find fan content that won't give you an uncomfortable feeling as a sex-repulsed person feels kinda like this (I'll try to illustrate that to the best of my ability as a vague comparison, please no one take that as a clear parallel, I'm literally just trying to explain how it feels in a way people who have no idea how it feels might understand): you're not into gore at all, you don't wanna look at it, but your streaming platform keeps recommending you those series that are loaded with gore. You try to filter it out, but no matter where you go, you keep being recommended those series. And no one ever gets your discomfort and you're being branded as nothing but a wet blanket for not wanting to see gore. It's kinda like that.

At this point I admire sex-repulsed or romance-repulsed people who still TRY to find anything at all in fandom spaces. I've stopped reading fanfic altogether and I've largely stopped engaging with the large majority of fandom spaces for those reasons. And that wasn't an easy choice, or one that I find fun because it feels incredibly lonely, but it's the result of years of exhaustion and strain on my mental health trying to navigate something that's so hostile to me at its core, even if it's unintentional.

So... Yeah. We know the reasons, just like the content itself, they're kinda impossible to ignore. But we are largely being ignored in this, and it's not just something at an "ick" or "picky" level ; for a sex-repulsed person, being spammed with sex entails much more than that. It's not even frustration anymore at this point, it's downright despair a lot of the time. So... Yeah, like you said, everyone would benefit from stuff being more properly tagged. For us it'd be so huge to know our safety is taken into account – that we're taken into account at all. Thing is, we're not, and we're so invisible in this and most other things that at this point, I don't have much hope. Sex-related controversies allo people can understand would sooner create a change than anything done for our sake.