#based on an au that lives solely in my head Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[magpielark]

What would you do? If you were me? And I were you?

[euphoricfilter]

hearts for dinner

pairing: yandere! taehyung x devil! reader

genre: fluff || smut || non-idol au || established relationship || yandere au

summary: how to wake up the devil

word count: 1.5k

tags/ warnings: fluff, mentions of death and murder, blood, yandere! tae, she does in fact eat hearts for breakfast lunch and dinner, eventual smut to come

notes: mother is back!!! with a mini series based off this idea!! and am fully open to questions about the au which can be turned into future drabbles :D

where you can find the rest of my work!!

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

fingers tease the ends of your hair, taehyung tugging gently.

he lays on his side beside you, head propped up by his hand as he stares at your sleep stricken face. ever so peaceful, fragile and delicate, warm, entirely unaware of the world around you.

though he supposes even when you’re awake, he doesn’t leave much room for your mind to wander.

a man having tamed the devil herself.

filing down sharp edges and dissolving her poisonous touch until you’d become nothing but soft, warm, pretty gooeyness. tooth rotting sweetness. a heart wrenching loveable being hidden in human form.

tucked away from people. tucked away from civilisation, kept between the walls of the cottage with everything you ask for.

your own crafted paradise, taehyung the creator of your world. the pinnacle of your mind, the core of every thought and feeling.

your life solely his to keep, held in calloused hands, stained in the blood of hundreds. though those lives of everyone who passed, had a new purpose. the purpose of feeding you— taehyung’s only reason to live.

to keep you alive. happy and alive.

<3

you briefly register the ghost of a touch over your cheek, a loose strand of hair tucked behind your ear before warm, soft, lips press over the supple skin of your neck.

you turn, sheets tangled around your waist, noise of question catching in your throat as you slowly slip into consciousness. a gentle slide into the waking world.

“sweet dove” taehyung murmurs against your skin, pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder.

goosebumps prickle the skin of his arms as the scent of you sinks into his pores, the taste of you dancing across his tongue.

“hmm” you tug the blanket up higher, knees curling into your chest. utter warmth surrounding you.

he coos, “my little dove, i have breakfast for you”

you breathe out a long sigh, hands blindly reaching out for him, fingers pressing over his chest, trailing up his arms until your reach his neck, deft fingers curling around the necklace that dangles over his collarbones. your initials locked around his neck. a forever promise that he will never take off.

“can’t you smell it?” he brushes a knuckle down the line of your jaw, “i thought you’d enjoy it warm today… got too cold on the way home”

you peek an eye open, tongue wetting your bottom lip.

“you were gone all night” you croak, trying to pull him closer. quick to throw the blanket over his body to keep the warmth in.

“and how would you know that” he hums, “what time did you go to bed?”

you press your face into the pillow, words muffled, eyes slipping closed, ready for you to slip back into your own little dream world.

“i asked you a question, dove” he presses, arms slipping around your waist.

“6” you mutter.

“A.M. i assume” he presses on.

“mmhmm” you nod, “my gaming console died and i couldn’t be bothered to get out of bed to get the charger…”

a low rumble of laughter vibrates his chest.

“breakfast, then, i’ll tuck you back into bed for a nap. how about it?”

your eyes peel open, “okay” you nod, hands fumbling around under the blanket, looking for his hand.

your fingers wrap around his wrist, bringing it up to your face. you sniff, nose scrunching up at the onslaught of smells. apparent why’d he been gone so many hours of the night. because no matter how much he scrubbed his hands after, the sweet tickling scent of blood will never be missed by you.

“how many?” you wonder, and he smiles a toothy grin.

“enough to last you the week… that’s why i was gone for so long” he leans down, gentle kiss presses to your cheek in apology.

you sigh, leaning your cheek into his open palm “i missed you”

“oh darling” he croons, pulling you closer, face pressed against his chest.

you can feel the steady beat of his heart, the gentle rush of blood slipping through his veins.

“i think i may have missed you more” he whispers, words sweet like nectar as they drip off his tongue, “but i’m here now, just like how it should be”

“and you won’t leave?” you murmur, fingers grasping at his shirt.

“never”

“promise?” you swallow.

“you are my life” his fingers slip into your hair, tugging your head upwards to look at him, “we are forever. there is no end to us until the day our bodies decay, and even then you will never get rid of me. i am yours for eternity”

you nod, smile tugging at the corners of your lips “okay. what if i wanted to travel”

“then i’d follow” his answer is quick, no hesitation.

“and if i wanted to get married?”

“i am all yours”

your fingers skim over his cheek, “what if i wanted the stars?”

at this, he smiles, “i would venture far into the galaxy to pick you the most perfect stars, and name a constellation after you on the way”

“i would want to come with you” you tell him.

his fingers rake through your hair “i wouldn’t ever leave you behind”

you look up at him, silence stretching out between the both of you.

“what about—“ you start, though taehyung’s boisterous laughter cuts you off.

“anything. anything you ask for, it is yours. but first you need to eat, my little dove”

he peels the blanket off the both of you, whine of protest bubbling up your throat as the cool air of the bedroom caresses your skin.

“poor thing” he frowns, arms wrapping around you, pulling you up and off the mattress, “i’ll put the fire on while we eat” he hums, footsteps heavy as he trudges down the stairs, your arms wrapped around his neck

“hold on for a moment” he tells you, hoisting you up a little higher as he pulls out your chair at the dining table. gentle as he sits you down.

your bare feet touch the cold tiles, recoiling to press against your chest.

taehyung scuttles out of the kitchen, quick to grab you, your favourite blanket from the couch, wrapping it around your shoulders as he flitters around the kitchen.

your gaze wanders, eyes catching sight of the outside world. the vast forest seems never ending, darkness lurking just beyond the safety of the house.

“we can go out for a walk later if you like?” taehyung hums, “i have a new coat for you to try”

you turn to look at him, voice soft “i’m okay, thank you though”

he looks over his shoulder at you, holding eye contact. you feel your breath catch in your throat.

he tilts his head, turning back to the pan on the stove, “alright. tell me if you change your mind”

it’s only second after that he’s turning back to you, plate in hand.

you look at the heart, perfectly seared, puddle of blood still coating the plate even though cooked.

“let me know what you think” he smiles, taking the seat opposite yours.

you don’t bother with cutlery, fingers digging into the muscle, wet squelch of blood dripping down your palm, ever so warm. the tantalising smell of it enough to have yourself hungry.

“thank you” you look up at taehyung with a smile, and he simply grins, motioning for you to eat.

you bring the human heart up to your lips, tongue pressing against the muscle before your teeth sink into it.

you chew at it, molars tearing at the meat, swallowing down the metallic blood as it coats your tastebuds.

your fingers tighten around the heart. frown slowly pulling at taehyung’s lips, noticing how your cheeks don’t go rosy, he can tell your bloodlust is not nearly sated.

you drop the heart back onto the plate, not bothering that blood splatters onto the tablecloth.

“what’s wrong?” taehyung stands, taking the plate from in front of you.

“not good” you look up at him, bottom lip pulling into a pout.

“my dove” he kneels down before you, hand running over your cheek, “here—“ he stars, standing.

he moves towards the freezer, pulling the door open, then tugging the biggest drawer open.

“pick which one smells the tastiest, yeah?” he motions for you to look. freezer packed with individually wrapped hearts, the smallest shelf saved for his own meals.

“then i’ll cook you a nice breakfast, better this time” he starts, “then we can stay in bed for as long as you like, yeah?”

you nod at him, from still pulling at your lips, “please”

he smiles.

“i want something sweet for breakfast” you tell him, “something younger than the old piece of shit i just had”

“i should have known you wouldn’t like him… he was more my own indulgence than your dinner” he admits, “horrible man” it comes out barely above a whisper.

“taehyung” you call out to him as he rummages through the drawers.

he perks up, “yes, dove?”

“i love you”

and he can’t help the grim that stretches his cheeks, heart beating rapidly, locked away in his ribcage though so close to bursting through his skin. a heart full of awfully delicious love, ready for you to consume.

“and yet, i might love you more” he tells you.

[yunazxxx]

sophia laforteza x lara raj

≫ cw ; yandere!sophia , knife play , cutting kink , sophia gets pretty weird at parts , obsessive!sophia , possessive!sophia , stalker!sophia , crying, choking, sex toys, neighbor au, threatening, manipulation, stockholm syndrome, slight cnc, torture, sadistic!sophia ,, etc ??

wc ; more than 4.3k

an ; so uhh this has some heavy topics, kinda listed in content warnings, i might've missed some things if i did then!!! — and i’d also like to add in no way am i glorifying kidnapping/manipulation/cnc/nonconsensual torture/ or anything else bad mentioned in this fic , do not take this out of context in any way. — ps, none of this has actually taken place between this girls so take this w a grain of salt as this story between these two in particular is fictional!!! have a nice read <3

—

lara had been living in this neighborhood for a few years now, the house across from hers has came and gone with new neighbors or place holders whatever, you name it, shes had it.

but today was really different, you see, she was getting a new neighbor. she, obviously, didn't know who it was but she also didn't really care to find out.

normally there was always some type of drama including her next door and the one directly across from her, meaning she was normally caught in that stupid crossfire.

her next door hadn't changed ever since she moved in, but it seemed this time they had to because when she looked outside there were moving trucks and et cetera.

she would mind her business though, not caring about it. by the next time she makes her way outside to run some errands, she catches a glimpse of her new neighbor.

and she caught a glimpse of her, she was walking inside but turned around and waved to her with a stupid smile plastered on her face.

she waved back, and honestly, it all seemed so innocent, she seemed so innocent. she continued with her plans, getting inside of her car and going where she needed to be. she wasn't much to her at first, just another neighbor.

really, after the last two its been something so tedious to ask lara to get back close to her neighbors. a few hours passed an she finally returned home, after she was finally inside, there was a ring at her door.

"who is it?" her voice rang through her house, a muffled, "your neighbor" came from the other side, and the voice was, unrecognizable to say the least.

she didn't know who it was, solely based off of their voice, nonetheless, she made her way to door. seeing the same girl from earlier, "hi, i'm just going around trying to get to know everyone, my name is sophia”

her voice was, soft, careful. although, she seemed a bit timid, like she was scared or shy, it wasn't like lara wasn't, that's exactly how she was back when she frst moved in.

she shook her hand, "lara, nice to meet you sophia" she said, a soft smile plastered on her face. she smiled back to her, "likewise" after a while the pair took a look up.

noticing the skies were getting dark, and it had been an hour that they were standing there and talking so lara offered they'd talk more at a cafe nearby and sophia happily agreeded.

they said their goodbye's and went their seperate ways, with no string attached. the next day, lara woke up that mornng, and got ready.

she checked the weather, wearing something that would fit it and its random changes. about an hour later, she walked out of her door and mad her way to the destination.

it was beautiful out, the weather was nice, and the skies were a nice blue. the cafe wasn't far off from her house, so she arraived really quick. she walked inside and sophia spotted her, she stood up and walked towards the younger.

"hey" she said sheepishly, "hi" she said, her voice as light as a feather. the black haired woman offered to hold her hand while they walked down back to the seat and she accepted. she was pretty calm, and they ordered their drinks.

the more the red head would look at her and study her features,, the more cute she found her, that same calm demeanor she had was slowly slipping away, not being able to look at her while they talked. this made sophia giggle, she found it adorable that lara couldn't hold eye contact.

she watched the way she was, and she was really well mannered. sophia was as extremly polite, which lara really loved about her.

after things fnally were, calmer, they began talking. she asked her what some of her hobbies were, just out of pure curiosity. she would answer her, but it would take a small while for her words to come out due to her slight stutter, but sophia would comfort her, saying ressuring things.

she was really sweet to her, the conversation went as good as you canget it. they even exchanged numbers to each other, and then went their seperate ways. still no strings attached.

they would talk pretty much constantly over texts, the way she would talk to her, made her feel so special and heard. sophia was a sweet girl, she did her best to keep that up however she could.

she would invite the red head out with her a lot, she would use an excuse saying "its good to have company even in the smallest things" and of course she would go with her.

not because of that, but it would be nice to get out of her daily schedule that was the same thing every single day.

these hangouts would turn from just her errands to them stopping at parks and etc to have some extra time together.

name an activity and trust that lara and sophia did it, those two quickly became close. she gave her this sense of comfort and she had always felt like she would need it, especially when something would go wrong so she'd ask her to come over or if she could visit her.

and she would never say no, even if she didn't know the situation simply becaused she loved having her around, those two quickly became best friends though. when they say the pair was rarely not together, they meant that.

when she'd vist over her house, she was always upstairs in her bedroom, nights she'd let her sleep over, or if she would stay late, despite the fact she had more than four bedrooms in this house she'd always allow her to sleep in her own room and she would sleep elsewhere.

this didn't rub lara any kind of way, in fact it just made her happier, because it was such a nice gesture, plus she was a really great person. but that small liking she had, turned into something far more than it sould have.

see, sophia asking lara to hng out all the time was't solely because she enjoyed having her around it was because she was obsessed to say the very least.

as she and lara grew closer, it made the chances of getting what she desiered so much easier. she would invite her over, at first becase she wanted to get those last few hours with her.

sophia would never let her sleep elsewhere was because she wanted her scent on her bed so when she'd lay in it herself all she would smell was her.

sophia was one to make a lot of jokes, while they walked the streets of their city, she would say small things after lara would say someone was cute or attractive to her, she would make a joke and say something like "look at another and you'll loose you vision" but she'd say it fast enough that lara doesnt catch it and she'd speed up.

sophia did this so much that it would leave the younger completly dumbfounded, confused what she said but she'd quickly drop it. she'd follow her along, but she was normally saying little slick shit under her breath she would never be able to hear any of it.

there was even one time she had lara on her lap, she can't exactly recall what put her there but she was and she couldn't focus on anything else but wanting to kiss her, her eyes were so focused on her pink plump lips, it didn't make it any better when sometimes when she would say bye she'd kiss her, leaving a mark of her lipstick on her cheek.

each time she'll do it, it'll always catch her off guard and leave sophia smiling like a idiot, but tonight was different with the pair. remember how she was always upstairs in her house when they'd hang out?

she kept them downstairs today, they talked about their experiences on nearly everything in life, naming their pet peeves, now sophia only brought this up to get more information on the girl.

she looked the girl in her eyes while she was sitting on the further side on the couch, they were enjoying each other's company.

they were laughing an playing, lara genuinely made sophia feel so much joy and happiness.

she didn't want it to leave, she didn't want to lose this feeling because it meant literally everything to her.

she excused herself upstairs, and lara cozied up on the couch and focused her attention on the moving pictures on the screen in front of her.

sophia was gone for a, while, to simply say. when she finally returned, her hands were behind her back, with a mischievous smile plastered on her face. the redhead looked at her, “soph?? what's behind your back?" she asked, her eye brows were furrowed.

"nothing.." she said, her eyes starting darting around the room. she looked at her, not believing what she was telling her. "show meee” lara said, and sophia shook her head.

“noo” she said, testing her. she put the cup down, and look at her, a michevious smile bein gon her own face as well.

"show it" she said, and she still shook her head, she was feeling playful and lara was willing to chase her. in a quick motion lara stood up and ran towards her, sophia quickly turned around, now putting the item inforn of her and ran the oppisite direction.

she chased her around the house a while, trying to grab at her shirt to stop her from running away so far but to no avail, she was able to get a good distacne between them but she was determined to find out what she had.

the chase continued for maybe 10 minutes nonstop, before lara was able to successfully tackle sophia, and they ended up on the floor. she was quick to take her chance and showed her what was in her hands so she could get off of her.

once the younger was off of the black haired woman, she asked her to follow her somewhere, it was downstairs, which caught lara’s attention. the house was big, of course, but if they went any further down, they defenitly would be in the basement an what could she possibly have to show her thats in the basement?

nonetheless, she followed her down. she was in front of her while they walked downn the stairs and she could feel a cold pair of hands around her throat, it was too fast for her to be able to react before the grip tighten and she could feel her breath shortening.

the grip only picked up more and more until she was passed out, and sophia dragged her body back ustairs, putting her inside one of the rooms that she was never allowed in or had never walked in.

soon the girl finally woke up, obviously unfamilliar with the room she was in. she tried moving her wrists but to no avail, quickl she began to panic, she didn’t know where she was and her head was aching, honestly she couldn't even lift her head without feeling dizzy.

twenty minutes passed, which felt like hours to her, and sophia finally came back, a sadistic smile on his fasce. "finally, you're awake" she said, that soft and gentle voice she had just a smile while before was gone, her entire facade of the "soft girl next door”was gone.

she looked, fucking insane. she crouched in front of her, "i have you all to myself now" he started, "do you know how long i've waited for this?" she said. a psychotic chuckle falling from her throat. "oh don't look so scared now, it's barely the beginning."

she stated only making the younger fear her more, she didn't know what to do, she couldnt even speak due to her having around taped her mouth. she couldn't look her in the eyes, she was too scared to meet her eyes which burned of passion, and lust, maybe even a hint of anger.

she broke into laughter like a maniac, she genuinely found the sight adorable, somthing was telling him to rip the tape off though, there was still that, piece of her that felt bad.

she carefully peeled it off her lips, allowing the girl access to speak, "w-why me?" she weakily said, her voice comin out barely due to how rough she choked her just moments prior. she would smile, it sent shivers down her spine automatically.

"why not you? i mean, lets name some reasons why" and with that, she continued to talk, going into brutal details about how she's wanted her ever since she laid eyes on the girl.

this all scared her terribly, to say the complete least. she had her in her house at one point, while it was never ending with the stuff she's done for her, it seemed she personally didn't have any limits for her. she used the time she had while she spoke, to use friction to break her free but to really no avail.

it seemed sophia was, prepared, for everything she might do. while she tried the act, sophia put her hand on her shoulder and whispered in her ear, "keep trying that and i'll have to hurt you." she whined, scared of what she might do to her.

she stopped, "p-please.." she panted out and it made soph feel a certain way. she had never thought of her such a way but weirdly, hearing her pant like that, it made her want to do something else, something more with her.

she fixed the way she cuffed, she was always prepared, she had more than one pair. so, she cuffed the girl to the bed, and also tied her ankles to the foot of the bed. sophia was weirdly gentle with her though, she would lightly tap along her body, despite her cries for her to stop, for her to not touch her anymore.

but she wouldn’t listen, actually she loved the way lara would beg for her, wishing she'd just stop and leave her alone, but she never did. at first, she was thinking to get it over with, but she knew once she left her alone for a slight second she'd run off or try to.

sophia was, rough, with her to say the least. she kised her aggresively, she marked her chest, down with so many hickeys. she then sat on top of the girl, rubbing along her shoulders, along her torso and she placed her hands on her throat.

she watched the girl while she cried, but she would lift her neck giving her more access, she would then wrap her hands around her throat, or better yet, just one.

her hands were big enough to hold the girl by her throat, and her began apply pressure. she smiled at the indian girl under her, watching as she held her wrist, trying to lift her off of her throat but with little to no avail.

she would only apply more pressure as time went on, listening to the girl struggle to breathe more as the seconds went by.

she smiled sadistically while watching the tears stream down her face, "p-please.. let go" she forced out between the squeaks, she really couldn't breathe, she was struggling to keep her eyes open before sophia finally let her go.

she watched the younger struggled to catch her breathe, she was choking. she smiled at her, and left for a while, knowing how long it'll take for her breathing to regulate again. she left the room, running off to retrieve whatever it was she needed, lara was terribly scared, her chest rising an lowering insanley fast as she panted.

she finally returned, that same evil ass smile was plastered on her face. she saw what she had in her hand, "something for a little fun" she said, and contiuned walking up to the bonded girl.

she found it really cute, seeing that she was all to herself, no one around to take her attention away from her. she continued on, and she touched her again, gently rubbing her hand on her thigh.

“it'll feel nice, don't worry." she said, her voice deeper than the ocean, which was far from normal with sophia. she was scared, she couldn't shut her brain up for a few seconds. she was shaking so badly, "I-let me go" she tried pleading, "no." she said, then she used the item she brought with her.

she moved her hands up the hem of lara’s skirt, sliding the toy up through there, directly against her clothed cunt, but the girl didn't want that, she didn't want any sexual done to her but sophia didn't care. she continued to ignore all of the younger's protests for her to stop.

“please, sophia" she tried, her tears streaming the closer she got to her. she placed her finger on her lips, "shh" she said and contined to start the toy, catching her off guard.

the speed was aready so fast, she couldn't even keep up the way she wanted to, not only was the toy on it's highest but sophia would also circle the toy around, teasing the girl. she enjoyed hearing her beg and plead with her for her to stop and slow it down but she never would.

it didn't take the younger long to cum, but sophia wasn't satisfied, no, she kept the toy on her and left the room. she left the younger bonded to a bed with a vibrator directly against her cunt. she tried moving but it would only make the sensation more intense.

thirty minutes passed before she came back, her whines and cries subsided, the girl was passed out on the bed. she then smiled to herself, proud that she was able to get her exactly how she wanted her.

she walked up to the sleeping girl and turned the toy off, deciding it was enough. she untied her wrists, seeing the marks so she genlty rubbed them, deciding that she'd help her out the next morning. she laid besid the girl, pulling her by the waist closer into her embrace, she would genity kiss the back of her head.

sophia tried sleeping but she knew she may also try to escapse while she slept so she tied her wrists again, not as tight as before but tight enough where she couldn't easily break out.

she soon fell asleep herself, completly engulfed in her scent. the next morning came, lara felt her arms around her. but all the fear she had from the previous night, was gone. she felt comforable in her arms with her, or that's what she kept telling herself? she didn't know why but she didn't want to leave her embrace.

it wasn't like she really could either, she had her legs wrapped up with hers. she tried moving her wrists, to break them apart but she had no luck. she just sighed, when she woke up she did too, now she was just laying behind her.

then she spoke, her voice with it's normal morning rasp, “good morning, darling" she said soflty and kissed the back of her head. she broke the intertwined their legs were in and stood up from the bed. she began untying her wrists, and after she was finished she hugged the girl.

she melted into the hug, all the fear she had from the previous night seeming very much nonexistent. sophia could only smile at this, finding it all so perfect and adorable.

she loved that she brought the girl that same amount of comfort even during this, she would rub gentle circles into her back. she could feel her sobbing against her chest, begging and asking her to set her free, why did it have to be her out of everyone.

sophia only rubbed lara’s back and kissed her head in response, she wasn't going to promise the girl release because by now she definitely couldn't let her go. she apparently didn't live alone, and now people were definitely looking for her, actively looking for her.

after that ordeal, she took the girl downstairs wth her and she made her a nice meal. she, of course didn't have an appetie and sophia knew that, you see, when she bought the girl to the bathroom she was able to get a full view of her neck and saw the darks handprints righ there.

she didn't have to do much to see her wrists, seeing the marks left from the ropes and chains. she cried inside the bathroom as well, wanting any type of freedom from this situation and sophia would give her multiple chanes to escape but she'd never take them.

the thought of leaving her sounded amazing, it sounded perfect to her, but actually doing it was so hard for her to do, but she just couldn't undersand why. she wanted freedom from her, she wanted to be away from her but something made her stay in that house, with her captor.

and that would be something she would regret that same night, she didn't come off as crazy as that same night, in fact throughout the day, she took her out with her.

it was not by choice, for sure not by choice after finding out people were searching for the younger.

sophia just didn't trust her in her house alone, so she would take her with her but her wrists would be tied up the entire time and she'd be forced to lay down in the backseat.

today sophia was realy nice to the girl, she gave the younger that came comfort like he did just a few weeks, prior.

he, of course was gentle with the younger girl all day, and he would continue be. as the night grew, lara became more timid, not knowing if tonight would be as before.

there was really no telling with sophia, so she just simply had to find out. she was missing while upstairs for a long whle, and lara was seated on the couch in the living room.

she had all physical freedom while they were inside but when they were outside, she had little to none.

finally, sophia came back down, but she was on a different type of time, her vibe was so much different?

sophia took her upstairs, and tossed the younger on her bed, locking the room door behind her. she had lara strip out of her clothes, walking up to lara.

sophia had her hand inside her hoodie pocket, and lara watched carefully as she took off her clothes.

sophia walked up to lara, while she was laying on the bed, fully nude. she gently ran her hand down lara’s body "p-please.. f-fuck” " she'd whimper out, making sophia smile to herself.

she broke off the contact, and flipped her over, which caught her off guard. she had her laying on her stomach, and she began to fondle with her ass cheeks.

sophia pulled the item from her pocket, it being a knife and held it against lara’s soft skin. she began carving her name inside of the younger girl’s thigh.

lara whimpered as each mark was made, her blood trickling down and sophia sucked at her thigh before lifting back up and leaving to pull off her clothes.

lara moaned, her hands grabbing at the pillows already, when sophia began pushing the strap inside of her.

lara screamed out into the pillow, the feeling of the silicone cock stretching her was too much for her to take. “fuck, you're so tight" sophia said as she thrust slowly.

lara’s head never left the pillow. sophia then laid along the girls back, and thrust her hips gently, dragging her cock in and out of the younger's cunt.

soon, she gained a good enough rhythm, and she began pumping in and out of the girl much faster than before, "p-please" lara said, between cries, “please what huh?" sophia said while he continued destroying the youngers cunt.

"I-let me cum" lara moaned, sophia snaked his arm around the girl's waist, lifting her up so she has free access to her clit. she began rubbing her clit and slowing her thrust down to make lara cum.

"c-cumming please — don't stop" the younger girl moaned, as her orgasm took over her. lara’s entire body shook against sophia’s, making her pull out and turn the girl over, laying down so she'll be on top of her.

lara was still in a post orgasm trance, she didn't even realize sophia had already began fucking her again. this time she was chasing her own orgasm while kissing lara from time to time.

“sound so pretty moaning my name, baby” sophia whispered in her ear, lara whimpered and began grinding into her thrust, and she started kissing along her neck to bring extra pleasure, marking the girl up.

"fuck i'm cumming" sophia said and slowed her pace. while sophia came, it made lara cum again her eyes rolling back as she fell onto the older girl, completely limp.

sophia thrusted up a bit more, before pulling out officially. they both were panting, she pulled her into a hug, and she began praising her.

sophia might’ve been psychotic, she may have even needed help, but she didn’t want any of that. she wanted lara, and only lara.

[jhuzen]

Will there be a part 2 of the "Attention" fic?

infidelity [gn/m.reader]

the answer to that is a solid yes AND a big apology for taking a hundred years to post this. this ask has been in my inbox for freaking months. and it’s mostly because i have been remaking this fic until i got the most satisfying fic LMAO. i’m sorry for taking so long 😭 i hope this is compensation enough. btw this part 2 to this! but honestly, you don’t have to read it lmao.

𖦹 crack taken seriously, hsr mention but this is mostly genshin, this is just a fic of me making fun of cheaters aka you, highly based on that one tweet of the “welcome home, cheater” one, pushing my grand overseer reader agenda like in my early fics teehee <3, sagau, sahsr au

“I should probably go back…”

Jing Yuan begged to differ. The general himself had his reservations about your sudden eagerness to depart. After all, you were a good company — one that amused him to the core and even kept him awake for the better part of the day. You are an interesting being to him after all — much after learning from the exuberant girl from the famed Astral Express suddenly emphasizing your importance when they left you under his supervision.

You, in much simpler words, are adorable in the Luofo general’s eyes. With eagerness and curiosity melding in those gaze of yours that could leave anyone transfixed — wanting and desperate.

You truly live up to the title as the grand overseer across worlds. You were the sole beholder of their sentience, despite the fact that right now, you’re barely aware of your status and your circumstance, it was more than enough for anyone go cherish your presence. How could they not? It was a blessing to see you descend from where you were, behind the great barrier that they all could only stare at when they looked to you for guidance.

Alas, that mattered little, not when you were beside the amused general and his coy smile, fingers raking through your hair; reminiscent of the pattern when he would do the same thing to Mimi when you visited his abode to meet the furry beauty that was his pet.

Quite frankly, you weren’t all too sure if this was something you were used to, being treated like an animal companion, with even the way Jing Yuan’s hand would suddenly roam behind your very human ears, scratching behind out of habit.

The only thing missing was him giving your food to you in a bowl, actually, and you’d be no different than Mimi at that point. Wait. No. You were sure Jing Yuan’s lion also ate out of a golden encrusted plate when you saw his hired caretakers come and feed Mimi.

“Bark for me, won’t you?” The general teased with a purr and it was more than enough for you to pull the plug at your willing compliance.

You removed his hand from your head and only shot him a subtle glare, “That’s a request I can’t honor even if my life depended on it.” You sighed, “I should get going now though, General… I made a promise to help our conductor in sweeping the floors. Apparently Caelus tracked some dirt inside when he decided to lug some trash.”

“Must you really? You’re the grand overseer, no? I believe such a title deserves a limitless freedom in doing whatever it is that they wish,” he coaxed in a suave tone, quick to win anyone over. And honestly, that sounds nice. But you’ve never seen Pom-Pom look so stressed when you saw an unwilling March and Dan Heng drag some trash either wrapped in gold bags or regular black ones inside the express when they came back from Belobog.

You somehow regretted leaving first — but even you had urgent matters to attend to at that moment.

“Ah—!” The lax Jing Yuan jolted at your sudden outburst.

“…Anything troubling you, Grand Overseer?”

“T-Teyvat! I completely forgot…!” Your eyes were blown wide as the panic settled within you. You had promised Nahida you would make it to the Interdarshan championship. She was so excited when she communed with you just days ago, completely elated that even your beloved Wanderer would participate as a representative in a Darshan.

Albeit confused by your sudden squawking, Jing Yuan understood and only watched you pace around while you lamented what sounds to be a rehearsed apology that you will no doubt tell to someone you hold precious.

“How envious, to receive an apology from you even sounds like a great honor.” Jing Yuan teased with a chuckle. “Well then, off you go now. Don’t be away for too long. I rather enjoy our time together.”

“O-Oh, yes, of course… I truly apologize for cutting our time together short. Do give my regards to Fu Xuan and Yanqing if they drop by. I have to go and talk to the crew and also bid my goodbye for now.” You bowed before turning away, briskly walking your way towards the door outside of the general’s office, only to bump into Welt and March.

“Oh! There you are! Ya ready to go shopping?” March held an exuberant energy as she asked, clasping your hand in hers tightly with an excited gleam flashing through her eyes.

Welt, however, was far more observant than March, “Judging from that look in your eyes… you have some affairs you’ve forgotten to tend to, Your Benevolence. Would I be correct in my judgment?”

“It’d be a miracle for you to be wrong at this point,” you laughed amidst your panic. “But yes, unfortunately. March, I hope you don’t mind a little bit of postponement… I have somewhere to be urgently.”

March’s bottom lip stuck out into pleading pout, “But you promised!”

“March, let’s not force them. It is as they say — an urgent affair.” Welt only looked at you with a small nod and an encouraging smile, ��Don’t be too worried. I’ll let Himeko and Dan Heng know of your absence. Just be safe.”

“I will definitely come back and visit.” Your smile and reassurance was enough to quell March’s disappointment and Welt’s initial concern. “Please tell Caelus not to track more dirt inside. It’ll only serve to frustrate Pom-Pom further.”

“It’s a useless attempt, but for you, I’ll try,” March winked as she waved to you with Welt.

With a nod to the two of them, you were off to Teyvat — lucky that you have little need for the Star Rail in the first place to travel. Otherwise, it would most certainly take you the entire conceivable time just before you could even come back to one of the many worlds that you oversaw and to a fault, even took care of from afar.

You stepped into the familiar grassy fields of Sumeru’s rainforest, looking up to see that the city isn’t too far off. There was a gentle breeze that blew by, almost like a kiss from a certain archon, but you paid little heed to it. You normally always took your time to appreciate the sights in Teyvat, finding its vast lands and many biomes incredibly fantastical in sight. But even that couldn’t keep you from the fact that you’ve broken several promises that you willingly made to some residents here.

You can only imagine the disappointment in everyone’s faces once you’ve admitted to the fact that… other people may have swept your attention away in the first place — hence your sudden absence.

You owed your first apology to Nahida. She is after all, one of your far more favored archons around, treating her like your own, definitely something that would make Rukkhadevata proud among every other archon out there. And then there’s also a matter of apologizing to your dear Aether, you made another promise to him that you would spend your time with him in Sumeru’s far end by the Realm of Farakhkert to meet the infamous Sorush and the majestic race of the Pari (you once made a claim that Aranara’s are superior, and your endeared traveler was reluctant in protesting to your words it seems).

Now that you thought about it — you were sure you made quite a lot of promises to the residents of Teyvat. A lot of commitments were hammered into your special sanctuary that Aether had built for and with you inside his teapot.

Commitments that you’ve forgotten in favor of space travels with a couple of trailblazers.

Onlookers turned to your direction, completely flabbergasted at your casual appearance. What were you doing in Sumeru city (not that they were ungrateful for your gracious presence) — but it was as if you were solely taking a stroll on your own. Where are your entourage? Was the Acting Grand Sage even informed of your arrival? What about the archons that always accompanied you? Where is Buer?

Best of all, why does your face contort into an expression of what seems to be utter guilt?

You hiked your way to the Sanctuary of Surasthana, refusing any help offered to you by the guards that were courteous enough. You were prepared to face Nahida’s crestfallen look — prepared to start indulging her wishes to make up for the tomfoolery you engaged in. The corners of your mouth trembled as it itched to finally spill out the plethora of apologies that you’ve prepared.

“Oh. So you exist after all.”

Only for your well-rehearsed (by the last minute) apologies to fall apart when the Wanderer’s voice rang from above. You looked up to see him perched on one of the ledges just above the door of Nahida’s residence. He was stationed like a watchful hawk — and he was, constantly on the prowl for anyone suspicious daring to come up to the sanctuary.

Suddenly, a memory of you promising him to go fishing by the coasts of Sumeru had you wincing. And with the way the puppet’s mouth turned up in a smug smirk showed that he was aware of an engagement you swore you’d do with him.

“Ah… I hear you go by Hat guy now?” You tilted your head, giving him a reluctant smile.

“Spare me the meaningless prying. Where have you been?” His eyes narrowed, suspicious and a tad bitter at your absence and incompetence in attending a tiny little leisure that you yourself insisted he join you on. Who the hell even creates plans first and suddenly flakes out? The Wanderer has never felt more betrayed, quite frankly.

You suddenly looked like a guilty spouse that came from a messy affair, with the way you shifted your footing and how you averted your gaze quick. The Wanderer was intolerant of such a behavior however when he finally came down from his little high up spot to face you with no escape. He will summon a void and trap you in it halfway if you so much as make an attempt to escape.

“I’ve been… away…”

“Were you now?” His scrutinizing gaze only served to intimidate you further when he came up close, his nimble fingers tracing against your clothing. “Whose is this?”

And before you, he held a familiar long strand of white hair — possibly acquired when the general of Luofo decided to frolic around with you, coaxing (or coercing, more like) you to give him a much deserved head massage for his hard work (though in truth, he barely did anything that day).

“…A cat.” Technically not a lie. Jing Yuan does exhibit certain behaviors that you can classify as a behavior that a feline has.

“Is it now?” His voice went an octave higher — clearly mocking you if his churlish grin wasn’t enough of a sign about his suspicions of you and your… agendas prior to your unprompted visit in Teyvat.

A terse silence engulfed you and your Wanderer before he flicked away the hair and dragged you inside Nahida’s sanctuary.

“She was disappointed that you were absent the entire Interdarshan event thing. Where in the abyss were you?” The puppet hissed, his grip on your wrist tightening. Somehow you found it far more comforting compared to the times where people would treat you like some fragile object that could break at any second.

What’s not comforting however, were his words. You couldn’t bear the thought of letting Nahida down, and now you’re faced with that very thought becoming a reality that you now have to get through just for the sake of your sanity.

You smiled a little despite seeing the Dendro Archon’s back turned while she minded her own business. There was always something comforting when wasting your hours away inside the sanctuary. Just having to teach Nahida from your old world knowledge about people, and to an extent even teaching the Wanderer with your wisdom that rarely pops out (according to him, with full intent to insult you). It’s not as daring as the time Venti decided to fling you up and catch you or Ei’s insistence on you eating your tenth dango during your walks.

For now however, you had one goal in mind — and that is to make amends with your favored archon and puppet.

Teyvat altogether created an unspoken rule to never ever doubt you — the Grand Overseer. You have a position that transcends even farther than the Primordial One, your eyes that gaze on many universes and worlds. You are the one that took care of the blooming life in each planet that teemed with it, thriving under your guidance.

There was a collective decision among all gods and mortals alike to never doubt your endeavors, much less your love for them. You care a lot about them, and based solely on your constant descent towards their world, it seems as though above all other worlds, you favored them. They were the proof of your benevolence, granting the residents your presence while you walked among them.

Right. That was the case that everyone agreed upon.

However, there was an underlying layer of unease. Heaven forbid may it be doubt; they could never! But perhaps… a tiny bit of uncertainty in the layer of cautiousness as the residents watched you with adoration.

It first started with the wrong names.

When Albedo, Sucrose, and Timaeus wholeheartedly welcomed your help when you visited Dragonspine with Klee. Jean was far too busy with her work and while she wished to, could not have time to bask in your presence after the announcement of your sudden arrival. In turn, you only assured her and relieved her of her added duty in watching over Klee.

Klee was the one to visit big brother Albedo, to surprise him that you were finally back. And you complied. Dragonspine is an extension of Mondstadt, and you had plans to check up on every single resident of the nation.

Suffice to say, you were quickly hooked up in a chair, pulse detectors attached to your temples while you watched Klee doodle away on the floor. For a respected overseer, you certainly were a people pleaser, letting Albedo scan you out of his own volition (Sucrose was fussing the entire time, she didn’t want you to be hurt in the process, after all!).

“Look Grand Overseer! This is you and me and Dodoco!” Your vision was quickly filled with a flurry of bright colors on paper, one that was filled with an abundant amount of red and the other with the colors of your clothing.

“Ah! So it is! Good job, Hook!”

Everyone in silence soon tore themselves away from their work, looking at you with evident confusion.

Klee blinked, tilting her head as she looked just as lost and surprised as the other three researchers in the mountain, “Hook? That’s not how you say Klee…”

Your heart hammered against your ribcage and tried to save it with a cough, “D-Did I now? Ah, my bad… I meant to say was that you… did a great job! It immediately hooked me in!” It was a half-baked excuse — hell, call it a raw excuse even and everyone aside from Klee caught on as the explosive child beamed with pride, just happy that you loved her heartfelt creation.

Albedo eyed you in suspicion before returning to his work.

Then there was your misplaced reminiscence.

In your defense however, Snezhnaya does feel like Belobog. Sometimes… most definitely not because of the fact that both places are constantly subjected in a thick layer of snow.

The Tsaritsa was all but cruel to you. She loved you like any other archon out there and always basked in your presence — even keeping you for herself a week or two longer, leaving the next nation in your rotation of visitation completely restless at your tardiness. However in her gentle kindness was a terrifying beast that laid dormant.

Only then did you catch a glimpse of it on the morning that you and her spent on your appointed room in the palace, both you and the Cryo Archon siting on the balcony while you sipped on a hot beverage, enjoying the mountainous coated in freshly fallen snow.

You sat your cup down and blew on your hands. The Tsaritsa laughed at your actions, pleased that you can truly feel the love she embodied through the cold winds of her icy nation.

“Cold enough for you, Grand Overseer?” She jested with a light tone.

“…Yep…” your teeth lightly chattered. “…T-This place is a lot c-colder than Belobog, I’ll tell you that… B-But not more than Jarilo-VI as a whole…”

All of a sudden, you could feel the creeping coldness from beside you and looked to where the archon sat, her striking eyes looking at you with curiosity… with a smidge of coldness behind them.

“Pardon? Not colder than where?”

Her tone was pressed despite her sweet adoring smile. She took pride in her sovereign kingdom of cryo. It was all for you, to feel the comforting cold after you spent your last stay with Murata in Natlan. This was her giving you love, and suddenly, it wasn’t enough?

The better part of your mind decided to feign ignorance. And you lived to see another day.

And then the sudden secrecy.

By all means, of all people, Zhongli indulged in your stories the most. Whenever you visited Liyue, you were almost always found beside him if Ningguang wasn’t asking for your presence or if you weren’t getting coerced into another drinking competition with Beidou and her crew. And in this case, you were preoccupied with a little something while you accompanied Zhongli in his usual spot.

He listened earnestly to the storyteller while you busied yourself writing a little something on a parchment you had acquired from the Wangsheng parlor when you fetched Zhongli for his break.

And ever so slightly, he’d find himself glancing at your hunched over form, while you stewed in your little activity. He didn’t particularly mind the lack of conversation from you. Having you beside him was more than enough, actually. But it wouldn’t hurt for you to have him be just as engaged in your little agenda, would it?

The former archon peered at your work, only to be faced with scripts that were oddly reminiscent of Liyue’s characters. Albeit there were significant changes that made the language still all too different from his nation.

“…Might you be translating ancient texts, Grand Overseer?” He inquired and was met by a suspicious jolt from you.

It was a text Dan Heng gave you before to practice the language used in the Xianzhou fleet. Only now did you have time to do his little practices upon your descent. You had plans to check up on everyone as soon as you were done in Teyvat, and perhaps impressing Yanqing with your language prowess was a good party trick (and eventually not get bullied into eating something spicy because of your ignorance).

“Ah! N-No—! I— yes. No.”

Zhongli tilted his head and you were quick to recall your flubbed answer, shoving away the parchment into your little pocket. There was a frantic look in your eyes and Zhongli was concerned, naturally.

You used to be so willing in divulging everything to him in exchange for his stories, with the both of you managing to talk from dusk to dawn without fail with him needing little to no sleep and the time dilation that your body couldn’t seem to adjust to. You weren’t afraid to share what you were preoccupied with, and even often let him experience new things from your own world.

So why are you keeping secrets now?

But perhaps, the breaking point was your standoffish nature.

Aether has always cherished his raw connection with you and was proud to wear his closeness to your divinity, not because of infamy, but because of how incredibly special you treat him. While, certainly, you have made the people of Teyvat special on your visits, but what sets him apart from the rest is your adamant expression of affection towards him. For some reason, he was favored alone, not as a part of a collective unlike Venti and his people, or Zhongli and his. He alone was yours to indulge, even more behind closed doors in his teapot realm.

However… something was off after your abrupt visit.

Something had changed when you came home.

You were far more distracted, occupied with that tiny device you always held in your hand. Suddenly, Paimon wasn’t the loudest one in the teapot mansion with the incessant beeping that your phone made. It never did that before, it was always tucked away somewhere, sometimes even letting him place it in his inventory if there was little time to go back into the teapot.

He had always deemed your mode of communication useless. Especially on your travels. It was always so silent, like a useless artifact that you keep on you.

But suddenly it was teeming with life, buzzing endlessly that could drive any man with weak resistance into the threshold of insanity. You’d often pick it up and grant the little device a heavenly smile and proceed to be on it for hours upon hours.

It was a heartbreaking time for him.

It was heartbreaking whenever he would peer at your device, only for you to keep him in the dark as you made some lame excuse.

It was heartbreaking whenever he could no longer recognize your words when you talked about your own anecdotes, throwing name after name at him while he listened intently.

And oh was it heartbreaking when you called him by the name of someone else.

“[Name], have you seen my earring?” He took pride in his informality with you showing your comfortability and familiarity with the renowned traveler.

“Over on the table, Cae— ther… Caether… Aether.”

Not so much with that tiny slip.

Yes. Perhaps that was it. And all the preceding reasons.

Perhaps it was why you sat like a condemned criminal in the court of Focalors, as every archon looked at you with scrutiny and skepticism in their eyes. Only sweet Nahida looked at you in concern. Ah, your poor child. You’d rather her look away than experience the possible punishment you were about to receive.

“Grand Overseer, make no mistake, this is a trial born from the accumulated concerns of us all. This is a trial born… from our love.” The hydro archon’s voice bellowed through the courts. She normally wasn’t one to personally try the defendants, however you were a special circumstance.

You always were.

…Sure doesn’t feel like it…

“M-May I at least know what my charges are…?”

“Infidelity, Grand Overseer.” Ei answered for the collective. “I can only hope you are not found guilty.”

You grimaced. You’re quite glad that this was a private trial, with only the archons, retired or otherwise, gazing at you. Make no mistake however — this was an intimidating position to be in. You may be the Grand Overseer, but you’re quite sure the only thing keeping you alive is their thinly veiled fanaticism and adoration for you. Otherwise, you would have been incinerated long ago.

It might have been your luck. But it was something you would wholeheartedly thank as the moment Focalors slammed her gavel down, the horrifying screech of something you can only classify as a hideous ally pulled you out of your impending doom.

The alarm on your phone rang incessantly, a glaring reminder of your subpar and mundane reality, waking you up from a dream that you could barely remember.

You shot up, only realizing you fell asleep in front of your own computer. You looked up to see your game open, with your beloved traveler gazing down at you with a disappointed frown on his face.

You chalked it up to your awful sleep and rubbed your eyes, closing the game and migrating to the other, where your in-game phone was filled to the brim with messages.

Smothering a yawn in your hand, you can only shake your head.

“My games have been really weird lately. I should probably leave them alone for now. Maybe have fun with Elysia and the girls.” You muttered to yourself but not before powering your computer down.

Truly, your utter cluelessness is bound to drive everyone insane.

Fret not however, they will make it work. They will let you know of their sentience. They will make sure that you are aware of how much they admire you.

It’s only a matter of time until then.

[wheresmymilliondollarman]

please jealous Noah Shaw. I love him so much

goldrush

noah shaw x fem!reader

you never took your boyfriend as the jealous type, a little misunderstanding unveils a whole new side to noah.

a/n: omg im so happy to take a noah shaw request thx for this. and him jealous?? love ur mind bff. i havent read the confessions of noah shaw trilogy yet, so im basing info off the mara dyer trilogy - hope that's alright !! au ig bc no specific timeline??.

also ik this fc is italian and noah is british, but he is who i imagined the whole time while reading so let a girl dream <3

word count: 3.4k

warnings: i get a little too into backstory bc i can't help myself, noah getting a little handsy, suggestive tones, mara and jamie comedic duo, reader's style is specified

"oh my gosh, shut up!"

"yes, please shut up." noah mumbles to himself, his arms crossed in discontent. hearing your laugh usually was angelic music to his ears. but now it only sounded like a mocking melody created to provoke him.

noah watched as you, unknowing of his thoughts, stood in the kitchen immersed in conversation and light banter with daniel, mara's older brother. you laughed at whatever he was saying, playfully hitting the side of his arm. something soured inside noah the more he watched the interaction.

"dude, you keep looking at them as if you're trying to blow daniel's head up." jamie remarked, walking up next him with a can of soda in his hand.

if only, noah thought. but lucky for daniel, his gift only enabled him to heal people.

stella and the dyers were in the house's living room filled with various streamers and party decor, while you were in the kitchen with daniel, if that hadn't been clear enough. noah bitterly watched, leaning up against the wall of the hallway with a direct view of the interaction through the kitchen entrance. he was sure the scowl on his face hadn't moved since he started keeping his attention on you both.

your reason for even going in the kitchen had been to put candles and bring the cake out while mara's mother found a camera to record mara blowing out candles. it was daniel who got up by his own account from the couch and insisted he help you out. it was also him who started distracting you from the task by talking with you.

it started when you all gathered at mara's house in celebration of her birthday. her mother insisted she invited you all to the houses as a merit for mara's improvement with therapy, or at least tha's what she believed. jamie may have possibly fed her fibs involving mara's mental health with his compulsion.

your connection with the dyers had a long history, one noah was still learning. you befriended mara around the first grade after getting partnered up for a school project. you two hit it off, both having weird persoanlities of your own, but she was already friends with rachel at the time, so you remained solely school friends for years. you were also a very smart kid, which is how you also befriended daniel almost immediately after mara. weirdly enough, it wasn't through mara you both met - it was through the school's book club. later, you found out the two were related.

so, you started finding yourself at the dyer house a lot, but it was to hang out with daniel. you remained a common occurrence in mara's life, but couldn't seem to get closer than friend. you had invited her to hang out various times, but she always had the excuse of already having plans with rachel. you never took it personally, or let it wipe the smile off your face, you had other friends - that included daniel.

it wasn't until the arrival of claire and jude did your dynamic change. mara began getting excluded from claire and rachel's hangouts and found herself losing her closest friend. you took notice of mara's loneliness during school, and once again offered to hang out, and for the first time - mara accepted. she realized she really liked having you around, and you moved up from possibly last in her last to being somewhere on top.

mara still remained friends with claire and rachel, she wanted to include you in their hangouts, but you got the feeling the other girls didn't like you much, and claire's brother jude gave you a feeling of discomfort. out of courtesy you did accept an invite every now and then, but you liked it better when it was just the two of you and sometimes daniel.

on the night of the asylum, you were spending the night at mara's house, unaware and what was suppose to happen. when jude showed up, she explained then pleaded for you to join her. you were scared out of your mind, but still followed her out the window.

inside, rachel and claire dragged you away to give mara and jude alone time, but you knew something was off. you were right because jude had cornered mara when you returned. you immediately pushed jude off, and he, in retaliation, shoved you back. then, the asylum was brought down, later learned to be mara's doing, and you and her were the sole survivors. at least that was assumed at the time.

when mara's family announced their move, you pleaded with your parents for the same. you argued a new start was the best option, and it was better to be around someone that went through the same traumatic experience. by some miracle, your parents agreed and moved to miami.

you met noah through school and with your active involvement in mara's messes. at first, noah had highly doubted the two of you were friends, you were like opposite sides of the same coin. mara had bleak and ominous aura to her while you were upbeat and vibrant. in simple, mara was a black cat, and you, the orange cat.

unlike him and the majority of your friends, you weren't supernatural. at least not genetically. however, you were oddly immune to their abilities for a reason no one had an figured out yet.

your normalness is what drew noah to you at first, he thought it to be weird and admirable how despite not being supernatural, you went along and supported mara through the whole thing. as you grew closer, it extended to noah as well. he was never annoyed by your energetic attiude, your optomism, or your corny humor. he saw you as the sun that never saw the night sky. he wanted nothing more than to protect that brightness.

it took a while for you to accept his advances, the school rumors did nothing to help. you had genuinely assumed noah and mara were into each other, so you were a bit oblivious to his flirtations. noah had thought you were just uninterested, his pursing of you slowing dying. it was all cleared up when you offhandedly mentioned your assumption, and noah made sure you understood he had no romantic notions for mara. he kissed you for the first time that same day. eventually, it turned into a relationship.

noah was secure in his relationship with you. maybe he wasn't the best man, but he knew no one could love you like him. though he had serious issues of his own, he didn't have any doubts about how deep the two of you cared for each other.

he blames mara for bringing unwanted thoughts into his mind.

everyone was seated in the living room watching twilight new moon, in honor of mara turning eighteen. it had been suggested as a joke by you, but it ended up being played and invested in by the group. you were sat on noah's lap, his arm around your waist and your back to his chest. mara's mother had come in and asked you for the favor, so you stood up, gave noah a kiss on the cheek and walked off, daniel leaving a bit after. after daniel had followed you into the kitchen, mara shook her head and silently laughed, taking a sip of her drink.

noah noticing, raises a brow, "what are you laughing about?"

mara glances toward the kitchen and shakes her head, "nothing. it's just typical of daniel to do that." she says nonchalantly.

"typical of him to do what?" jamie, now invested in this conversation instead of the movie, asked.

mara shrugs, "he just always wants to help y/n, ever since we were kids. he would carry her backpack and books, help her do homework, and bandage any bruise or cut she got." she turns her head back to the tv, then smiles at a memory, "there was even a time when her date for the eighth-grade dance bailed, he stepped in. i think he does it subconsciously at this point."

noah had never thought about just how deep your friendship with daniel ran. he knew you were used to be closer to him, but he didn't think much of it because of how close you and mara were now. he had never actually seen you both interact much since he's known you.

noah glances around the room and sees the wall with various family photos. he begins to notice your involvement in a lot of photos, many which included daniel. in fact, there were more with daniel and you together rather than you and mara. he notes the photos of matching halloween costumes, birthday parties, and school events all involving the two of you, mara making a guest appearance in some. but the big picture was obvious - you had a long-lasting friendship with daniel.

jamie stuffs a handful of popcorn in his mouth, "sounds like he had a crush on her." noah's jaw clenches hearing that.

noah has known daniel since he's met mara. by this point, they were pretty good friends. he believes if daniel held any sort of affection toward you, he'd be able to see it. but then again, it wasn't as if the topic of you came up very frequently when the two hung out.

"i don't think-"

stella piped up with her input, having silently listened to the conversation, "yeah, my dad use to act like that around my mom before they got together. they were best friends for years before he finally confessed, and she even had a boyfriend at the time."

who even asked her?, noah thought.

"maybe, i wouldn't be surprised. my mom always wanted them to end up together, she already sees her as another daughter. i actually think he was her first kiss." mara responds, still focused on the film.

noah's senses sharpened at the mention of first kiss, "first kiss?"

mara realizing what she said tries to backtrack, "well, i mean, it's only a theory, but it's really nothing, noah."

noah can now feel stella and jamie cast their attention on his reaction. he leans back in his seat, uncaring, "doesn't bother me, past is the past."

that was enough for mara and the others to turn their heads back to the television. but, noah could no longer pay attention to bella and jacob on the screen.

jamie, the closest to noah on the coach, leans in to him, "personally, if that was me, i'd be overthinking this thing. i mean childhood friends is the gateway to lovers. but, hey, it's cool to see you're not that type of guy." then as if nothing, he goes back to stuffing his face with popcorn.

noah didn't know why a burning sensation began to build within him at the image of you two. he told himself it didn't matter that you were currently in the kitchen with him, alone.

noah excused himself to the bathroom, but his real intention was toward the kitchen. he told himself he wasn't jealous; he was just going to check on you like a good boyfriend. he was totally not jealous when he saw daniel close next to you, helping you place candles. nor did he feel an intense rage seeing your hands occasionally brush over each other. at least that's what he told himself.

it didn't help that you were the prettiest girl; your hair let loose, but still looked pristine, you wore a baby pink lace top with a small rose on the top middle, a gold chained necklace with a crystal heart, tiny gold hoops, on your bottom is a denim mini skirt accompanied by a sparkly belt, then to finish off you wore white knee high knitted socks with baby blue converse that had embroidered stars all over.

on the other side, noah just wore a plain gray tee and some loose-fitting black jeans. the only accessory he had on being a gold-chain necklace and a michael kors watch, both which you'd gifted him.

she's everything, he's just ken.

"why are we weirdly staring at y/n and daniel." mara had appeared out of nowhere and now joined the conversation. she had come with the purpose of informing her brother and best friend her mother was ready for them, but instead ran into jamie and noah in front of the kitchen entrance.

jamie shrugs, "i don't know, i found him like this."

noah, not paying attention to them, mutters, "since when does bringing a cake involve two fucking people."

mara looks at you and daniel in the kitchen then back at noah, "this isn't because of what i said right?" she asks noah.

"don't know what you mean." he denies.

jamie rolls his eyes, "de nile is a river in egypt. you are acting like a jealous boyfriend."

mara agrees, "seriously, you've got nothing to worry about. y/n is crazy about you, and daniel is into that new friend of his."

noah doesn't respond; he pushes himself from the wall he leaned on and waltzes into the kitchen.

jamie cackles, "this is gonna be great."

"shouldn't we do something?" mara questions feeling a bit guilty.

jamie gives mara a look, "c'mon, you can't say watching shaw feel threatened for once isn't the least bit entertaining."

mara shrugs, "fair enough."

noah walks into the kitchen, your back facing him as you talk to daniel. he doesn't say anything as he wraps his arms around his frame and fits his head in the crook of your neck. he gives a few small kisses on the side of your neck.

your conversation comes to a stop once noahs antics begin. you smile and move a hand to ruffle through his hair, "hey baby, what brings you in here?"

daniel also greets noah, but he ignores it. noah hums in contentment at your touch, "just wanted to let you know mara's mom is ready for you to bring out the cake."

daniel laughs, "right, that's what we come in here for. if only you hadn't sidetracked us with your horrible placement of candles."

you gasp, offended, dropping your hand from noah's hair, "hey! my placement was perfect, you're the on-"

"i think i hear mara calling us." noah interrupts. it was a lie, mara went back to being immersed in twilight new moon.

daniel nods and goes to carry the cake himself, and you're about to help him out, but noah hold you tight - stopping you. "let's go get seated before we sing happy birthday, i'm sure he has it covered here, don't you daniel?" noahs states with a passive aggressive tone.

you give noah a weird glance, and daniel either didn't pick up on the attitude or ignored it because he replied in his usual preppy tone, "yeah, i've got things handled over here, you guys go on ahead."

noah wastes no time in taking you to the dining room. you didn't comment on noah's attitude back there and brushed it off, thinking you might've read into things. you're blind to the glances exchanged between mara and jamie when you both return.

you go to take a seat next to noah, but he pulls up down onto his lap.

you frown, "but there's a seat right there."

"the leg is super wobbly on that one," noah then kicks one of the chair legs very hard, enough to make the once stable leg now unstable, "see? i wouldn't want my girl to hurt herself."

you kiss his cheek, "you're the best boyfriend," you tell him appreciatively.

"tell that to daniel." noah whispers.

"what was that?"

"hm? nothing."

everyone begins taking their seat at the table once daniel comes out with the cake. you inform mrs. dyer of the broken chair, which she was surprised to hear, commenting how it was fine that same morning.

everyone stands up as the happy birthday anthem begins, mara being sat in front of the cake, awkwardly waits for the singing to stop. you and jamie make sure to prolong the song as much as possible to annoy mara. she conveyed her appreciation by throwing gestures your way when he mom wasn't looking. when it does end, everyone sits down and gets a piece of cake. daniel takes a seat next too you and noah, and he notices you both sharing a chair.

being the gentleman he is, he offers his seat to you, "here, i'll stand and you can sit here-"

you grab his arm to stop him from standing, "no, no, it's alright i'm-"

noah doesn't let you finish, "she's fine here. she's used to being situated on my lap, in more way than one."

mara chokes on her drink, stella gives a disgusted look, and jamie is biting into the knuckles of his fist to stop a laugh from leaving him. daniel is visibly uncomfortable at his comment and mutters an ‘alright’ and sits back down. luckily for you, both of mara’s parents were busy handing out cake to tune into the conversation.

you turn to noah with an incredulous look, your face beginning to flush at his innuendo. noah gives you a shrug and feigns innocence, seeing no issue with his comment.

mara did you the favor of speaking up with a new topic to move past the awkward tension.

eventually, the others retreated to the living room, taking plates of cake with them. you took the chance to talk to noah privately.

you turn your head to the side and lower your voice to a whisper, “why would you say that?”

“what? it’s not like it isn’t true…” his words trails off as he leans down to kiss the crook of your neck. noah starts nibbling gently, but enough to leave faded marks on your skin.

you roll your eyes,"rather not have our friends gag before the cake." you assert.

"why? is it because you don't want dear old daniel to hear." noah mutters bitterly.

you turn your body in his lap to look at him. you furrow your brows, "why are you acting like this? i thought i was jumping to conclusions, but ever since daniel and i were in the kitchen-" noah jaw clenches at the mention of you and daniel.

"see, there you go again. anything daniel related, and you-" you cut your sentence short in realization. you should've seen it sooner, but it was the most obvious at this moment. noah was jealous.

your faces shift from confusion to amusement, and you let out a small laugh. noah was lost on the your change in demeanor, "what? why are you laughing?" he questions.

"you're jealous," your eyes widen in realization,"that's why you've been acting so weird."

he roll his eyes and shakes his head. "no, that's absurd."

"it's cute, really. i hadn't thought of you as the type." you coo at him, going as far as pinching his cheek a bit. noah retaliates and swats your hand away.

"i'm not the type," noah denies, "i've just come to the realization how annoying daniel is."

you nod, playing along, "right, the same daniel you hang out with every week. daniel. who you've called your best friend, and the one you saved from death."

"people's opinions change," noah defends, but you're still not buying into it.

"—and mara may or may not mentioned him possibly liking you at some point." noah adds in quickly.

your head snaps, "what? daniel doesn't like nor has he ever liked me."

"c'mon, you've been friends for so long and mara just happens to think he was your first kiss."

your eyebrows furrow, confused by noah words. ten, it hits you, and you can't help but snort as you remember.

"this is painfully embarrassing to admit, but that was a rumor we made up at school so people thought i'd kissed someone."you confess.

noah eyes narrow, "so you and daniel.."

"never kissed?" you finish for him,"nope, but my entire middle school class thought we did."

"perhaps, i acted a bit hastily before." your boyfriend grumbles.

"jealous." you correct in a fit of faux coughs.

noah groans in your shoulder, "i hate this feeling, make it stop."

you shrug, "it's not totally bad. it could mean you care about me so much, you hate the thought of losing me to someone else. which you won't, so you have nothing to worry about."

"promise?"

"cross my heart and hope to die." you recite heartily, drawing an x motion over your chest.

noah looks at you in adoration before leaning in to connect your lips. you hum contently, and weave a hand through his soft hair.

"unless it's my celebrity crush, then you should definitely start worrying."

"careful darling," he leans down to whisper in your ear, "i'd hate to have mara put her powers to use."

"noah i swear—"

[we-love-morioh-cho]

I am........a little heated about how Jolyne's mother was treated in the story today esp in contrast to a certain ex husband of hers 🙃, so I decided to post some of my personal ideas and headcanons for her! This is partially based on what little we have of her, but is also very fanfic-y, self-indulgent and may be unkind to Jotaro lol

I have 3 main ideas for her name which I am very indecisive on -

Irene - based on Irene Rapona and alt. Jolyne's name. This would mean that Jolyne's parents put their names together to name her which is cringe but does happen. In the ending, alt. Jolyne now lives free from the Joestar curse (I think?) and so, symbolically, loses the 'Jo-' prefix and just inherits her mother's name whom she's always been closer with anyway.

Dolly - because of Dolly Parton who obvs wrote and sang 'Jolene'. A musical reference and also just a very cute name imo.

Hanna - named after Hanna Thorn, the model who Araki based her design and the pendant photo off of. While Irene and Dolly are based on her relation to Jolyne, this is the only name I could think of more based on herself. I'm not the biggest fan of a female character being named based solely on her connection to someone else BUT we have nothing to work with for this woman and, between the two characters she's connected to, I would much rather her name tie into Jolyne's. I haven't chosen a specific name yet though, I like all 3 ideas atm.

Based on the above reference to a model, I like to think Jolyne's mother is a model or at least works with fashion in some way. While it is a non-canon AU, the 'Jolyne, Fly High with GUCCI' one-shot written by Araki gives us some crumbs to work with. I haven't read it yet, but apparently Jolyne's mother has passed in this story and left Gucci clothing behind for her daughter. She's even customized them to fit Jolyne and, through wearing these clothes, Jolyne feels like she's connected to her mother again 🥺 So yeah, I head canon that she's maybe a fashion designer who models her own clothes.

We're told she's a 'crybaby' and is unwell with stress over Jolyne's situation, so I see her as having some type of anxiety disorder. I think that Jotaro's neglect and Jolyne's delinquency has puts a lot of stress on her along with her career. She's been left in a really difficult situation and it takes its toll on her. Sadly, I could totally see her as one of those women who had to give up on her career dreams due to the pressures of single parenthood, so maybe she's no longer a designer or model. This would add to Jolyne's anger at Jotaro - not just for his neglect of her but also the toll it's taken on her mother. Her not being present during Stone Ocean could be due to health issues to parallel Jotaro's condition and the Gucci one-shot. I think she's generally a quiet and graceful woman and hasn't always been able to stand up for herself much; creative and brilliant but also unsure of herself esp when she was younger.

I'm not gonna dwell on this point too long because it makes me angry, but I don't think her marriage to Jotaro was ever that good. They were both quiet and got along decently, but I don't see much emotional warmth or openness there. Tbh, I question why Jotaro decided to marry and have a child if he was just gonna neglect them due to 'dangers', but who fucking knows lol. Anyway, I think their marriage was distant and sad and Jotaro did not open up with a baby like Jolyne's mother hoped he would. Instead, he left her to do all the hard work, showing a real disregard for her and Jolyne 😒 You'd think he'd be more empathetic to single mothers with absent husbands and wouldn't want to put his own child through that but apparently not! 🙃 I think, before his neglect of Jolyne, she rarely challenged Jotaro and instead accepted whatever he wanted. But when his distance started to include Jolyne, an innocent child who needed him, she had had enough and started demanding better. I think him failing to show up while Jolyne was dying in a hospital was the final straw. She was the one who filed for divorce, and when she demanded custody he didn't contest it.

Moving on - she of course deeply loves her JoJo even with all the hardships and doesn't want her daughter to repeat her parents' mistakes. She's a very accepting mother, encouraging Jolyne to express herself and stand up for herself. She's relieved that Jolyne hasn't inherited her quiet and anxious personality, treasuring how bold and open she can be and always working hard to encourage that. She was always accepting of Jolyne’s emotions, letting her vent and making sure she didn’t repress her feelings. To keep up with her unruly and wild daughter, she became more confident and assertive over time. She had to be a strong woman to raise someone like Jolyne and she found her daughter inspiring during some of her lowest moments. And while she never got the chance to know this, Jolyne was inspired by her in turn.

Even with her anxiety, career and general stress - she does as much as she can to give Jolyne a great childhood. She's happy to dye Jolyne's hair and style it however her daughter wishes. While she's not use to the style in her own fashion, Jolyne's mother does her best to make cute little punk outfits that Jolyne adores and proudly shows off to everyone. She brought Jolyne to a shoot one time, curious if her daughter would be interested, but the girl only got up to trouble and pointed out how uncomfortable and uptight it all seemed. On the drive home, Jolyne expected her mother to be furious or upset but instead she just burst out laughing at her daughter's bold antics and comments. It was clear Jolyne was NOT gonna turn out like her mother and that brought the woman a lot of joy and relief.

Sorry to say, but I think she's a Disney adult 😞 While they don't get to visit too often, I think the duo absolutely go to Disney World when possible and I think Jolyne's mother styled Jolyne's buns to look like Mickey Mouse ears. She is a fanatic for the old princess movies, their dresses inspired her to get into fashion and she watched those films with her own mother so she repeats that tradition with Jolyne. She knows Jolyne doesn't really give a fuck about those old movies and that does make her a bit sad, but it means a lot that Jolyne at least tries to sit still and pay attention as best as a child can. Watching those movies and going to Disney World brings out a new side to her in Jolyne's eyes; her mother seems so giddy, is fine with the large crowds and becomes so emotional over the romances. While Jolyne doesn't understand why her mother likes these movies and does get embarrassed by her obsession sometimes, she usually agrees to go meet the princess actors so that her mother has an excuse to see them as well (plus the park is still a lot of fun and exciting). And yes, her mother does see the actual princesses when Bohemian Rhapsody happens and she cries lol

Jolyne has a phase where she becomes deeply interested in marine life, largely inspired by Jotaro's career and interests. Jotaro took her to an aquarium once or twice and got her a book - she then became obsessed. Part of this enthusiasm was that she wanted to impress Jotaro and connect with him, wanted to find a way to make him stay this time. So Jolyne immersed herself in marine biology and tried very hard to show off her knowledge, desperate for her dad's approval. But he still left and, not wanting Jolyne's genuine interest and enthusiasm to be soured, her mother took time off work to take the girl to an aquarium herself, asking questions so her daughter could tell her at least. Jolyne barely spoke the entire time, and the next day her mother found the marine life book in the trash.

The two are obviously very close, but an absent parent can still be disastrous for a child. That's why Jolyne's delinquency hurts her so much - she really wanted to be enough for Jolyne to stop her going down a bad path, but believes she isn't. She endlessly tries to get through to Jolyne but just doesn't know what to do. Eventually, the lectures and emotional turmoil makes Jolyne a bit distant, especially compared to when she was younger and almost seemed afraid to be away from her mother. She still loves her mother and their relationship isn't bad necessarily, but it is strained and her mother fears one day Jolyne will shut her out like Jotaro. Jolyne's mother holds onto far too much guilt over their family situation and her anxiety is affected terribly. She always did the absolute best that she could and was a fantastic mother even if she didn't always know what Jolyne needed and I will die on that hill.

I hate to even think about her experience during Made in Heaven. Surely, she would've known her ex and daughter were at the center of it - while Jotaro hid a lot from her, I think in that moment she just knew. I'm sure she tried for hours to contact either of them, the phone lines jammed and the roads a dangerous mess. How would anyone have felt during that whole event, let alone a mother worrying for her child? My headcanon is this - despite her condition, anxiety and the sheer risk of going outside, she set out on foot to find Jolyne. She had no direction or idea of where to go but she had to try. She knew the world was ending but she needed to find her daughter no matter what. And sadly, I think she died searching, hoping her JoJo would somehow be OK.

In the new universe, Jolyne's mother is still separated from Jotaro, but I think it ended on much better terms. Irene only mentions visiting her father on the trip, so I assume her mother lives elsewhere. She met another partner and her life is generally freer from hardship and stress. With a partner and Jotaro's help in raising Irene, I like to think she achieved her dreams that she had to give up on in the OG universe. Maybe it's sappy, but I really want to believe that life is just nicer to her in the new universe and that her and her daughter remain as close as ever ❤️

[ryttu3k]

Astarion, Wyll, and Shart for the chara meme? :3c

[send me a character]

Under the cut! Spoilers for all three of their arcs.

Astarion

First impression: …tragically, it was "oh hey, he's the dude that fucked a bear." That was where I first learned of BG3. It was… memorable.

Impression now: My baby. What a shitbag. Needs a hug and possibly a slap upside the head. Meet me in the pit, Cazador. Blorbo of the year.

Favourite moment: Discovering the dungeons in Cazador's palace. Dude's going through the first four stages of grief all at the same time and Neil Newbon sells it. …That, or, "W~ell, apPARently there's a limit. Somewhere between a ~nice summer's day~ and the fuLL CONCENTRATED POWER OF THE SUN! *deep breath* [Astarion disapproves]"

Idea for a story: I have a whole list of the fuckers, but one I've been tentatively noodling at is an AU where a god does, in fact, answer him. Namely, Lathander. By the time he meets the rest of the Tadfools, he's been a Cleric of Lathander for about a century, and, yes, is also a vampire spawn. It's okay he and Lathander have an understanding.

Unpopular opinion: He was a Sun Elf. I know they're rare I know he's almost certainly a Moon Elf based on his hair colour and living in Baldur's Gate but I will die on this hill that he was a freckled, gold-eyed Sun Elf for the tragedy, okay. Ties in with the above story idea, too. He just loves the sun 😭

Favourite relationship: I have five OTPs for this jerk. Five.

Favourite headcanon: He's going to discover a talent for creativity and crafting. Embroidery and making perfumes and fragrances, yes, but also he's going to get quite into sketching, origami, all sorts of stuff. Post-game, he'd totally have a craft room.

Wyll

First impression: Designated hero, probably would be the main character without a Tav/Durge.

Impression now: Designated hero, probably would be the main character without a Tav/Durge, complete with all the complexity and fucked-up-ness (positive) that implies <3 He's still very much A Hero but he's definitely more complicated than just A Hero.

Favourite moment: Meeting Karlach face to face and realising Mizora has deceived him. He knows he's going to have to defy her and he's goddamn terrified but he barely even hesitates to do the right thing and keep Karlach safe.

Idea for a story: Ooh man I have one bobbing around about Wyll seeing Astarion's scars and realising he recognises them. Inspiration for wanting to save people, versus the helplessness of being all of sixteen years old at the time.

Unpopular opinion: Honestly I still go back and forward between reconciling with his father. On the one hand, I like seeing them move on and heal. On the other hand, he was seventeen years old Ulder you absolute fuck.

Favourite relationship: With Karlach. Probably due to design since their stories are interwoven, but I love how they just go from like… him being dedicated to killing her, to being so ride or die for each other that Wyll is willing to go to the Hells for her - and that Karlach is willing to go back somewhere she's said she'd rather die to return to, solely because Wyll promises he'll be there with her 🥺

Favourite headcanon: While chatting idly to Volo in the Elfsong, he learns Volo has that prosthetic eye handy. After breaking the pact with Mizora, Wyll approaches Volo and asks if… maybe he could have it, and replaces the stone Sending Stone eye with the Ersatz Eye instead. It's a hell of a relief.

Shadowheart

First impression: The Mean Girl tbh

Impression now: She is baby. Let her grow night orchids and feed pocket mice.

Favourite moment: Reunion with her parents ;_; I goddamn cried. Let her make her own choice and she let them go; when I do a Shadowheart Origin run she's going to choose them to survive and will get so many hugs.

Idea for a story: Got a silly little slice of life thing about getting frustrated at her hair getting tangled so easily in the wilderness, and Halsin teaching her some herblore for hair care. Alternatively, swimming lessons!

Unpopular opinion: Not sure if it's unpopular, but I find her the most unlikeable character in act 1 and a lot of act 2. I know a lot of it is her upbringing, and there are moments of sweetness (like with the night orchid), but otherwise she just kind of annoys me.

Favourite relationship: With Lae'zel. They instantly and immediately clash. They're also extremely similar, in that they both grew up in cult-like surrounds led by dangerous figures, and have to learn to find their own paths after breaking away from those surrounds in absolutely heart-wrenching circumstances. I think once they realise that, they'll start to develop a ridiculously close bond.

Favourite headcanon: She tended to avoid the full moon just because of its association with Selune. The first time she intentionally sits and communes with the moon at night, it'll trigger her first transformation going Full Werewolf and she will be quite surprised.

[drev-the-procrastinator]

20 Questions for Fic Writers -tag game

I got tagged by @zyrafowe-sny, thank you for the tag! This was fun! I wrote the answers at like 5 am sorry if they're rambly and unhinged haha.

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

13, but really 7, because all but one of them are Finnish and English language versions of the same stories sjdfnasdfj

WWAIT 14! one of them is anonymous jhfashdfj almost forgot about that one

2. What's your total AO3 word count?

24 448

3. What fandoms do you write for?

Well,,, the fandoms I’ve published fic for are Hetalia (kringelis krongelis i know) and The Owl House, but when you add WIPs there’s also the Mandalorian, Noragami, and BNHA, and there USED to be HTTYD and GNG as well. Yeah the last one is the old anime where dogs fight bears. What can I say it’s really popular in Finland, Hopeanuoli 4ever

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

hands, grasping (the one TOH fic so no surprise there), Six Sunflowers (which is the oldest), Traitor’s Glory, Two Boys, Two Moments in Time, and lastly December 30th, 1929. 

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I mean I do try! When I leave comments it’s always nice to get answers, so I think it’s just nice to answer others. :) I do have some comments atm I’ve not answered but. Well. Just look at my url lmao

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

LMAO. I have no idea. I’m just going by the published ones here, but like: character seemingly falls to his death, character finds his mom’s dead on his 9th birthday and is left with his two other underage siblings to fend for themselves in the 1930s ussr, character resigns himself to the fact that his siblings probably hate him as he’s starving to death in a prison camp. Which one’s the angstiest? You choose!!

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Lmaooo well none of them are really _happy_, uh. I think Laid Down By Human Hands has probably the most neutral ending, whereas Six Sunflowers is more bittersweet, but like the sweet is there… And then Two Boys isn’t terrible either? Like it sucks a little cuz that kid’s living in WWII time Finland ya know, but it’s _fine_. I dunno! In truth it’s probably the fic on anon that’s the least terrible, but even that ending’s not a _happy_ one, it’s got unrequited pining in it lol.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

Nope! So far at least! I don’t think my fics are popular enough to get it haha.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Nope! I’m almost strictly a gen writer, aside from like. 2 AUs and one TOH wip. I guess some of the WIPs could potentially and maybe should have some fade to black kinda scenes because they’re stories involving a fair amount of romance and in one of them it’s even kind of relevant to the plot. But yeah no. 

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

WELL, okay. You see, I actually started out writing via original fiction? I was like 12 when I made up a story based on a long-lasting play-pretend during recess thing I had going on with my dear friend, and it was. Written and plotted by a 12-year-old. But THEN I got really into the How To Train Your Dragon movies, and then I crossed over my story and HTTYD and then tried (still kinda low-key sorta in the process of) to separate it into my original story again, but this time with dragons! So that’s. Like the craziest journey ahfijsd my original as-of-yet unwritten fantasy story has a crossover sequel with HTTYD lmao. Also just occasionally I think about a potential giant crossover that’s got allllll my faves meeting and interacting, but that’s solely for daydreaming and “lmao wouldn’t it be funny if” -scenarios in my head. I’ve later also crossed the characters from my original story with other ones I’ve liked, in my head lol, but I don’t think I’ve written out any. Other than the TT x HTTYD hybrid. (TT is the WIP name for that original story. it doesn’t stand for anything anymore tho lmao it’s just tt)

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Nope! Not to my knowledge, at least! Again, my fics don’t get enough hits/are too niche for anyone to think about stealing them, I imagine. 

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah! Almost all of them! By me. What can I say, I try to fight the good fight to keep my native language alive on the internet and also in my head. 

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No. I did once talk about the possibility with a friend, but nothing ever came out of it. 

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

Hhhh. This is very silly but I don’t really actively ship stuff, and rarely think of ships outside of when I’m watching or reading the source material or something. Thus the one I can feel confident in saying I ship is a…. oc x canon ship sshfskjfsidkfajksaf or maybe it’d be more accurate to say oc x mutated blorbo version of a canon character lmao. It’s mainly in. 2 AUs that have so little to do with the source material that they might as well be original fiction and probably by this point mostly are lol. 

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

GHHH I want to finish ALL of my big 5 main WIPs because I love them dearly and want to read them, but then again. I don’t know if I ever will because I can’t get myself to fuckin WRITE any of them. So I’m just gonna say all of my main WIPs. That is:

TT (original fantasy story thing)

home front fic (historical fic set in WWII Finland about the friendship between a kid and the soviet POW sent to work on his home farm)

Kingdom AU (girl from the country accidentally befriends the crown prince and there’s politics and they fall in love and some cool stuff and some less cool stuff happens. hard to summarize cuz i’ve never had to, target demographic is like. three people + me. here's the aesthetics and vibe blog it's got)

sad BNHA fic (what if. Eri got ofa. but how? i murder someone to haunt the narrative. easy. sad. sad bnha fd. naming skills on full display here) 

anddddd. hypothetical TOH fic (what if i came up with what happens after TTT before the two other eps of s3 came out and stayed on that path. what if the first thing i wrote about it was hunter falling off a cliff to his death. what then).

Kind of also TOH fic 3 (it’s about evelynnnnn) but that one is. Hopefully. Shorter and has the outline all written out so there’s a bigger likelihood of me finishing it someday. And to be fair the hypothetical TOH fic isn’t that long either, I could get it done, one day, but then the other ones have grown to massive size plotwise so I don’t know if I could ever get them done, actually. I hope so! But ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

16. What are your writing strengths?

I guess my plots are sometimes kinda good? Sad BNHA fic and Kingdom AU are pretty cool on that side. I used to be pretty good at writing dialogue too, but that was back when I a) wrote regularly, b) read a lot, and c) socialized. So. But I used to be good! though back then my plots were real frickin weird lol. in my defense. i was 14 to 17.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Writing itself. That’s the only answer I’ve got because recently I haven’t written enough to know what I’d be bad at. So just. Writing. See I can plot without writing, that’s why I’m good at that lmao

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

Sure! Hell yeah! I’m gonna do that! I have done that! I love it, I love languages. Though translations are appreciated. Though I think it should be for emphasis, more so than just writing it in the language just for the hell of it (though like I had a wip where all the spoken dialogue was to be in Russian because there was so little of it and it was simple enough that I could do that, but i lost my notes for it). I think if it’s just normal dialogue and the pov character knows the language, it’s best to just add like, “they said in Finnish” to the dialogue tag, especially if there’s a lot of it. 

In my personal opinion, also when the character doesn’t know the language, I probably wouldn’t write it out? But then if a character knew the basics of the language and it was maybe one sentence I would write it in the language. Or if it was a really important line, like someone telling another character they love them in their native language, or a culturally significant thing, like, idk the adoption vow in mando'a in the Star Wars universe. But sometimes it’s also just fun to show off your own language skills! So overall, strongly encouraged. Just. Try not to use Google Translate (etc.) for it jfajfasjdn

19. First fandom you wrote for?

Hhooo. Probably the Ginga-fandom, but that one was so brief it barely counts, so I’ll say HTTYD because of the crossover thing. If it’s just fanfic without crossing it over with my own original work lol then Hetalia. 

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

TRAITOR’S GLORY!!!!!! I got to talk about my rather niche but intense area of interest in it, which is Soviet POWs in Finland during the Continuation War 1941-1944. Well, that’s the finished one at least, there are some snippets of WIPs I’ve not posted nor finished that are also very good. Imo. But. Yeah. Most of the other favourite stuff I have, concerning my fics, hasn’t been written. So. ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ But Traitor’s Glory is pretty nice. :)  Thanks again for the tag! I guess I'll tag some people, though no pressure: @evevoli @cowboy-garfield @peach-oolong-tea @starcloud-nova @littlekysworld @slightlycrunchy uh. yeah. If you see this and wanna do it you can say I tagged you! :) And no pressure!

[kaythefloppa]

Binga Redesign [Sloth Bear] + Rewrite/HC:

My first artwork that ever is posted on Tumblr. It's garbage and disproportionate, but it's something!! [to be clear, this isn't the only Lion King/Guard-based artwork that I've made, this is the first of many that I'll be uploading here].

I've been high off of my Lion Guard hyper fixation for the past few weeks, mainly in how demotivation and disappointing S3 was and how I should write my post-canon fic/have the events after the finale play out in my verse [which I will illustrate with some art-pieces - I'll do this here, Deviantart and on the Lion King subreddit, my user is KrattBoy2006].

However, one thing really ground my gears to a halt and made me immediately clap my hands and say "Fuck this" was fucking Binga. I refuse to accept this abominable incontinent MLP-OC-reject-pukeskin-gender-bendered little Chippette. She's 10x more annoying than Bunga is [even with Season 3's character assassination of the poor dude], her existence, personality, design, and by extension, her relationship with Bunga relies on really outdated, sexist, and overall boring hetero-romance tropes. You could cut her from the story and nothing of substance would be changed [don't believe me? Fiona Riley recorded more lines for the one episode Shabaha appears in, than for the 3 episodes Binga appears in. Take that however you will]

Out of everything in TLG S3 that I've had to tolerate or write around when it comes to my headcanons, AUs, and fics, Binga is the one thing that I flat-out choose to ignore altogether. If not because of how much cringe I endure, it's because.... she's boring lmao.

And rather than just taking the easy way out and pretending she doesn't exist [not like that's not a good option either] or by having Bunga dump this chick [again, am not entirely opposed to], I eventually just said “screw canon” and came up with my own version of her, more fleshed out than in the show itself [I’m definitely not a fan of her name since that’s another cisbend of Bunga, but until I find a good substitute, I'll go with Sloth!Binga].

Rant Aside: On with my Rewrite version of Binga. Here, she’s a sloth bear: Why that? Because A) I want to take more advantage of the Asia setting, B) because sloth bears are termite predators like honey badgers so it does fit, C) because sloth bears, much like honey badgers are incredibly fierce when they need to be, D) I’m a sucker for height difference in relationships, and E) I think them being an interspecies couple makes it very interesting, funny, and wholesome, and be a neat mirror to Timon & Pumbaa's relationship. [And before y'all say anything about how they can't have babies, note that the ability to reproduce in a relationship should not solely determine if two characters should and shouldn't get together]:

I originally wanted to have her be a honey guide [since they do also live in India]. But then I read that the whole "Honey badger/honey guide symbiotic relationship" thing was an outdated myth so I went with the next available bug-eating, Indian-native animal.

In my AU, Binga is the polar opposite of Bunga. She lived in fear and isolation as a result of immense trauma from the loss of her parents [in the same tragedy that took Sãhasí and Ãnanda and left young Rani with a scar, I'll get to that point in my verse soon]. The Night Pride adopts her out of pity and she grows up as a sister to Rani and Baliyo until she leaves on her own: Meeting Bunga inspires her to be braver, but at the same time, she is able to help Bunga become mature and level-headed, and which inspires him to eventually reconcile with Kion and apologize to him for his emotional negligence.

Bunga and Sloth!Binga have an on-off relationship. Both of them are new to the concept of actually being with someone, especially with one of them having such a coveted and busy title as the Night Pride's Bravest. They go through some ups and downs and travel around lands with each other before eventually deciding that they would rather spend the rest of their lives with each other.

I have 2 existing possible outcomes for their future:

Scenario 1:

Bunga and Binga follow Kion to the Pridelands after him and Rani's relationship falls apart, and during their time there, Bunga and Binga stay at Timon & Pumbaa's old home. When Kion returns to rebuild his alliance with the Night Pride, Bunga, and Binga opt to stay in the Pridelands, and they help advise the next Bravest of the Lion Guard .

Scenario 2:

Same as Scenario 1, except when Kion returns to the Tree of Life, Bunga and Binga return alongside him and become the surrogate aunt and uncle to Kion and Rani's kids.

In either outcome, they do end up adopting children, orphaned from both the Pridelands and the Tree of Life, much to the excitement of Grandpa Timon & Pumbaa.

For Binga's design, I tried to incorporate the sloth bear look and blend it with Binga's design. The freckles were my own design choice. Overall it doesn't look as awful as it could've been.

[marshmellowtea]

okok willy clarke all prompts? (numbers, questions? idk)

anon..........@yanderesoulmate........i love you both so much (/platonic) ;_; 💞

1: sexuality headcanon

okay i actually do have a solid headcanon for this character for once--he's asexual and you CANNOT change my mind!!--it's, uh. his romantic orientation i keep flipflopping on KLFJDKF. specifically i keep going between aro will and bi/pan will......also ace lesbian william lives in my head rent free because my toxic trait is looking at male characters and going "that could be a lesbian!" ahglkjdsf but yeah he's ace for SURE you can't tell me otherwise lmao

2: otp

not even gonna lie to y'all i really do think it's will/tanya HGLKDSJF something about them has carved out a space in my brain permanently. also will/tanya/mike is REALLY good and i care them so much :') .....i also wanna give a shoutout here to will/regina which was a rarepair that got out of hand and is now genuinely a ship i'm lowkey passionate about ghkljKDF. i wouldn't call them an otp necessarily but.....cradles themin my hands. i care them

3: brotp

can i say basically everyone in this damn game.....? give this boy some FRIENDS oh my go d if i had to choose though i want him and lila to be friends i want her to genuinely care about him and i will Force Her To no matter the cost HGLDJSF. also me being my aro self who enjoys platonic versions of my otps, i'll say i also adore him in brotps with tanya and mike, especially in fix it aus ;v; also, him regina and jimmy as a goofy friends trio who spend more time together than expected has been in my head rent FREE lately lmao

4: notp

there aren't a lot of super popular ships in this fandom, so keeping in my rules about notps being relatively well known ships and not just a crack ship i pulled out of my ass for the sake of hating it....tbh, i'm not a huge fan of him and martha together as a ship? idk why, it seems cute, and it's definitely not a dealbreaker for me when it comes to fics, but it just doesn't click for me for some reason. i kinda wish it did, i know it's a fan favorite :') tbh now that i think about it it's kinda one of those ships i really only feel things for in the context of polyamorous ships with other characters involved HGKFDJSFLK

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

not to be on my bullshit again but age regressor will is so real in my head he's. he's little guy ;_; that feels like cheating because i headcanon every character i love as a regressor but LISTEN ahgkdsj.....he needs to be taken care of he really does he deserves it--

6: favorite line from this character

i have a couple nominees: him saying in his diary that he still loves lila despite her scaring him because holy shit it breaks my heart that little speech he gives to tanya about how she's not the center of the world and how he and her friends do want to be there for her (we stan a king who can read her to filth LMAO) him confessing to lila's murder in the strength ending because it breaks my HEART he deserves the WORLD him asking martha if she needs anything while she's drunk out of her mind.....him just generally trying to help her in that scene tbh. he's such a sweet boy bwahhh

7: one way in which I relate to this character

me 🤝 william being neurodivergents with bad moms :') i'm sure there's more i could think of tbh based solely on the neurodivergent thing but those are the biggest ones HFLKDSJF

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

this is less about him specifically but i watched manlybadasshero's playthrough of this game and some of the expressions he gave him are hard for me to look at idk why adkfjKLDJF 😭 for a more real answer though, it's also a little hard to watch him at the party at points but, like.....tbh i found that whole scene more charming than anything. he's a sweet boy and he's TRYING okay :')

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

i already answered this one but for the sake of completionism he's my littlest cinnamon roll. my little guy. he's certified baby <3

[bearsinpotatosacks]

I feel like I'm going through a bit of a shift in my writing recently, so I'm constantly asking people about how they do it. In the past, I've mostly written one shots, so for them I just work through the fic quite quickly. But I'm still figuring out longer things. For some other things I started out trying to get things prewritten, then get impatient and start posting. For 6 days it's been different, I started writing it as a one shot that I wrote out different bits on based on what I wanted to write. Then I realised that I wanted it to be multi chaptered so split it into three distinct sections: Richie relapses into his eating disorder, it gets worse, and then people finding out/recovery.

One thing that's helped is that I use Ellipsis to write, now, and it's quite useful. I did a list of all the scenes (eg. Tina makes Richie eat family, then Ebra gives Richie a sandwich to eat etc) then make it into a heading. That makes it into an outline so I can see how many bits I have left to write.

Anyway, back to 6 days. For the first 2, I set myself a goal of trying to get 2 scenes written a day, which turned out to be quite difficult when the scenes turned out to be quite big, what the scenes were was more about how I felt on the day. Some days I'd do it chronologically, others I'd write one current timeline scene and a flashback etc.

I realised I had a bit of a stressful Christmas as well as my birthday around the same period, I was crocheting a blanket for a Christmas present, so basically gave myself a few weeks off as I was so burnt out from writing non stop for 4 weeks straight.

Now I've kind of hit a block. I'm very very slowly writing chapter 3, but I'm also working on a flashback chapter that's going to be in between ch2 and 3 where we saw what everyone else was doing and thinking about Richie outside of his POV (since chapters 1 and 2 were solely in his POV, and chapter 3 starts to bring in other's).

I've also reached the stage where I keep getting side tracked with other new ideas. I've got 2 Mikey Lives AUs already planned out (one where Richie stops Mikey ending his life and they fall in love after and another more heartbreaking one where they were married but are on the verge of divorce). I've got my version of season 4. I've got a few ideas that I planned out a while ago.

But I'm also pressuring myself with how season 4 is getting closer, so any ideas I've got that are set post season 3 may be null and void by June. And to top it all off I keep pressuring and putting myself down about not writing enough (despite how I've been ill on and off since before Christmas and I work a full time job)

I love your writing, I was just curious about your writing process? Do you go chapter by chapter? Or do you pre-write then post? I like finding out how other people write, it inspires me

thanks for asking :) yeah, I feel like everybody does it differently. For Failure to Thrive, I have a massive google doc containing the whole fic in a draft stage, which I then edit and sort into chapters as I go. So pre-write then post. Some parts are really fleshed out and basically fully written, other parts are much more bare-bones, just ideas. I updated the New York chapters so quickly because I had it written and ready to go for over a year haha.

The scenes I write first are the ones that come to me the most clearly, and the ones that really excite me. I started with this idea of Hell Farm, so I wrote a big draft right up to Carmy getting injured there, and then I jumped right ahead to the New York scenes and everything beyond, leaving a big gap in the middle. I then did the middle part of the fic chapter by chapter, seeing what people responded to - which characters they liked, what scenes, etc. I didn't have a very fixed idea of what I wanted for that part, so I kinda just wrote about my own experiences in different cities and countries, but through Carmy's eyes.

So yeah basically, I wrote the beginning and the end simultaneously, knowing how I wanted those parts to align and maybe feeling more confident about them, and left the middle to be a lot more open to exploration. I think I did that because it's important to write the parts you're excited about first - forcing a chronological chapter-by-chapter method might kill the momentum. I'm still editing and making revisions, right up until posting.

I hope this helps! I'd be interested to hear if you do something similar?

[dreamerstreamer]

Somewhere Only We Know

Pairing: god!Dream / DreamXD x gn!reader

Summary: [Reincarnation!AU & Dream SMP!AU] Being a god can be especially lonely—Dream knows that better than anyone. Yet somehow, you always manage to find your way back to him in every life you live. If only it didn’t hurt so much to love you.

Warnings: tw// mention of death

Word Count: 5.6k

A/N: requested by the lovely 🤡 anon, who asked for a piece based on keane’s somewhere only we know! i got rather carried away when writing this, and it’s certainly quite sad, but i hope you all enjoy it! <3

Dream blinks lazily up at the fluffy clouds drifting across the cerulean sky, his emerald eyes tracing over their soft edges. He hums to himself as one of them drifts in front of the sun, the warm light suddenly leaving his face. Frowning, he sits up a little straighter, raising his arm above his head. He snaps his fingers once, and in an instant, the clouds vanish. Warmth floods his cheeks as the sun’s brilliant rays crash over him once more. He smiles, but it’s melancholic, a forlorn look passing over his face.

Just how long has he been alone like this?

Sighing, he rises to his feet, kicking at the soft dirt beneath the soles of his boots. His viridian cloak is light atop his shoulders, his wings neatly folded underneath the soft fabric. Above his head, his halos glow with a dazzling golden hue, sending beams of amber light flashing across the nearby tree trunks. Rolling his neck, he snaps his fingers again, and his wings and halos vanish in a flash. Just like that, the weight on his back dissipates, and his lips twitch. There—that’s much lighter.

His gaze flickers over to the waterfall lying just a yard away, rushing ripples of water streaming down the short cliff face and into the pool lying at its base. He crouches down next to the small pond, brushing his hand over the soft soil beneath his feet. Sparks shoot up his arm and into his fingertips, the earth suddenly bursting to life underneath his touch.

All of a sudden, a blossom sprouts from the ground, soft and pink as it unfurls its petals and soaks up the warm sunshine. Dream grins as row after row of flowers shoot up from the ground, circling around the pond and lining the trees around the clearing until suddenly, the whole space is surrounded by breathtaking blossoms. He stands back with a satisfied hum, glancing around himself with an almost nostalgic gleam in his gaze.

It’s been ages since he last returned to this little alcove in his favourite forest. He could tell no one else had stepped foot here except for him, too. After all, there was only one other person who knew about this place—the only other person in the world he knew would be able to find it in the first place.

Had it been decades or centuries since he last visited? He’s not sure anymore, but really, he’s not sure if he cares, either. There’s a reason why he doesn’t come back here very often—one that he hesitates to even think about.

It’s far too painful of a memory to relive.

“Hello?”

Dream freezes, his eyes going wide at the sound of a new voice—a familiar voice. Slowly, he turns, his lips parting in awe as he sees a figure stepping into the clearing, a mix of caution and curiosity flitting across your cheeks.

He knows that face—knows you.

His heart aches at the thought.

“Hi,” he manages after a long moment, swallowing ever so slightly.

You flash him a sheepish smile, lowering your gaze to the ground almost bashfully as you brush a stray leaf off your shoulder. “I’m sorry if I’m intruding, or anything. I was just passing by when I saw the flowers, and thought they looked really pretty, and...”

You trail off, your voice growing smaller and smaller until it fades off into silence. Dream stares at you, unmoving as his heart races a mile a minute in his chest, battering against his rib cage as your timid gaze flickers to his.

“I, um,” you squeak out, feeling the intensity of his eyes on yours. “I can go if you wa—”

“No,” Dream suddenly blurts, the word flying out of his mouth before he can stop himself. He can already feel the heat flooding his chest at the way you startle in front of him, and he sucks in a breath.

“Wait,” he says, calmer this time. “Please, I—you’re not intruding at all. You can stay.” He takes a shaky step forward, offering you a crooked yet earnest smile. “I’d love it if you stayed.”

In an instant, your face lights up, and his breath hitches in his throat at the sight. “O-Oh, thank you! It’s nice to meet you. My name’s [Y/N].”

In that moment, he could have sworn his heart stopped and would never beat, again. “What’s yours?” you ask, your eyes shining like freshly cut gemstones.

His eyes scan your face for a moment, taking in the soft panes of your cheeks and the delicate curve of your lips as your smile leaves tiny cuts in his lungs.

“Dream,” he breathes at last. “Call me Dream.”

Suddenly, your eyes curve into tiny crescent moons as you grin at him, and he feels the loneliness flowing through his veins subside the tiniest bit.

Even after all this time, he still can’t bring himself to forget your smile.

Dream hums to himself as he tosses a pebble into the pond from his spot on the fallen tree log. The stream laps at the stone once before swallowing it whole, letting it sink to the murky bottom without so much as a splash. A rustle comes from behind him, and he immediately whirls, his lips curling up into an eager smile.

“[Y/N],” he chirps, bright and keen, “welcome back.”

Your glowing face greets him in return, and he nearly combusts on the spot. He still remembers the way you had promised him you would return to see him again a week ago, when you had first stumbled upon his clearing. His head still spins at the thought, and it almost makes him forget the longing ache that sinks into his bones when his gaze lingers on you for a fraction too long.

Almost.

You wave at him as you jump over a protruding tree root, crinkles forming at the corners of your eyes. “Good morning, Dream! What are you doing here so early? The market only just opened.”

He shuffles over on the log to give you room, raising an eyebrow at you. “I could ask the same of you.”

Crouching over, you settle down onto the space next to him, not at all noticing the way he stiffens when your thigh brushes against his. “I woke up early to watch the sunrise,” you say with a half-drowsy smile.

There is a beat of silence, then Dream tilts his head at you. “The sunrise?”

You bob your head, turning to look at him. “Yeah,” you murmur wistfully, raising your arm to wave your hand up at the sky above. “I love watching all the pretty colours fill the horizon. It only lasts a few minutes, but it’s so magnificent, and I always try to watch them if I can.”

His eyes flash as he takes in your gentle expression. Then, he opens his mouth, thoughtful and slow. “Sunrises, hm? What other things do you like?”

You pause for a moment. “Other things I like?” When he nods, you hum, averting your gaze from his until you find yourself staring over at the bubbling waterfall.

“I like... I like flowers,” you begin, “but you already knew that.” He chuckles at the hint of a smile that dusts your face before you continue. “I like exploring the market every Saturday, too. They always have something new to find.”

Suddenly, your eyes flicker to life, glittering with excitement. “Oh, I also like stargazing! It’s like watching the universe paint a picture with little crystals every night, and something about looking up at the sky makes me feel so small, and I... I...” You gesture vaguely, a frustrated noise escaping your throat. “I don’t know. I just like it.”

Dream cannot help the way his heart melts in his chest at the sound you make, a certain fondness seeping into his soul. You were always so endearing—always, always, always.

“What about you, Dream?” you say suddenly, looking at him curiously. “What things do you like?”

Dream blinks at you—once, twice. Suddenly, his mind is flooded with image after image, memory after memory.

He thinks of the millennia he has lived through, the cities he has watched rise and fall. He thinks of the countless distances he has wandered, travelling far and wide with a heavy loneliness hanging in his barren heart. He thinks of soft kisses pressed to calloused fingertips and fluttering eyelids.

Then, he looks at you, with your enraptured eyes and your glorious grin.

“You,” he says, sincerity gracing his every word. “I like spending time with you.”

He watches as you stammer in reply, your eyes going wide as you gape at him in a mixture of embarrassment and flattery. He laughs at you, and his heart swells in his chest.

He’s missed you—more than you would ever know.

“Say, Dream, have you ever seen the ocean?”

The sun glares harshly into your eyes from where you lie on the earth, staring up at the cobalt sky, but Dream hardly notices—his eyes are too focused on you. “I have,” he murmurs as his gaze traces over the bridge of your nose in wonder. He’s seen more of the world than he would like to admit. After all, he was the one who created it in the first place. But to you, he’s just a simple traveler with a penchant for waterfalls.

Before he can even register it, you’ve bolted upright, bending over him with an excited shout. “Really?! What’s it like?”

He jolts at the sudden movement, all too keenly aware of how close your face is to his before his shuffles into a sitting position, resting his chin on his hand. “Well,” he begins, “it’s really big. So big that you can’t see the shore on the other side no matter how hard you try. It’s blue as far as the eye can see, and the breeze kind of tastes salty if you open your mouth.”

He catches a flash of your awed expression as he waves his arm in front of him to illustrate the vast size of the ocean. “The water,” he continues, envisioning the waves as they crash onto the sand, “is nice and cold, and if you swim deep enough, you might find fish and coral. It’s relaxing to watch the tide come up into the beach. Sometimes, shells wash up onto the shore, too. You can keep those as little souvenirs.”

For a moment, you are silent as you simply stare at him, something swirling deep within your gaze. “Wow,” you say at last, sounding completely breathless. “That sounds beautiful.” You stretch your legs out in front of you, your fingers curling into the grass spread beneath your palms. “My best friend says there’s mermaids in the ocean.” You scrunch your nose. “I don’t know if I believe him, though.”

Something dark ripples through Dream, and the tiniest of frowns passes over his face. “Your best friend?” he parrots.

You nod. “Yeah—his name’s Karl. He’s really nice and likes to goof off a lot. He’s also a really good storyteller!” You look at him then, fondly and with such a kind look it almost knocks Dream right over. “I think you might like his stories.”

His lips quirk up into a coy smile, and he leans ever so slightly forward. “Would I, now?” he croons, a teasing lilt tinting his tone. “What kind of stories does he like to tell?”

You clasp your hands together, excitement brimming in your face. “Oh, wonderful ones! There’s the one about the sleepy fox, the one about the pig who could not be killed, and the one about how we all face reincarnation after death, but my favourite,” you murmur, “is about the creation of the world.”

Dream goes still at that, his smile faltering for a split second. “How does that one go?” he asks softly.

You scoot the tiniest bit closer to his side, your gaze lowering ever so slightly. “Once upon a time,” you start, your voice as smooth as velvet, “a god descended from the heavens and carved the world into the shape it is today.” You traced your finger along the soft dirt. “He made valleys and hills, oceans and rivers, decorating the land with flowers and trees. The world he made was beautiful, but it was lonely, so he filled it with people to keep him company. He was so full of joy to have friends, until one day, he fell in love.”

Your demeanour, which had been cheerful up until this point, suddenly shifted, darkening as you let out a sigh. “He fell in love so quickly and so deeply that he was blind to the nature of his own creations, as they had a mortal lifespan, unlike him. When his lover died, a part of his soul died with them. He vanished after that, never to be seen again.” You curl your knees to your chest, resting your head upon them. “Some people say he wanders the world, mourning for all of eternity. Others say he died of heartbreak. Even fewer believe that his lover lives on and he loves them still, although they’re not entirely sure. Either way, he has yet to appear, and humanity quietly awaits for his return.”

Dream is silent beside you, his lips pressed into a thin line as his chest rises and falls with the timing of his breaths. “Why is that story your favourite?” he finally asks.

You lift your head, surprise shooting across your face. “I’m not sure,” you say softly, pondering for a moment. “I just think he sounds so... sad. It’s a tragedy, what happened to him. He only wanted to not be alone anymore.” Your voice drops even lower. “He only ever wanted to love someone.”

An ache suddenly expands within his gut, digging into his sides of his skull with such ferocity he fears he may never escape it. That same, fleeting sense of solitude slinks around his lungs, squeezing and squeezing until your eyes lock into his, and they halt.

“Do you think that he lives on?” you whisper, your gaze searching his. “That he might have found someone else to keep him company, despite his sadness?”

You pause, something like hope sparking within your eyes. “Do you think... he ever loved again?”

Dream stares at you, and stares at you, and stares at you. Your lips are right there, are so dreadfully close to him as he looks at you, feeling the blood pound through his ears as the pain in his heart begins to lift. It rises higher and higher within him before sliding off his shoulders entirely, leaving nothing behind but tender affection and warmth—a warmth he had been yearning for for so, so long.

He smiles at you then, and for once, this one is real.

“Something tells me he did.”

Dream stretches his wings out behind him with a quiet groan, feeling the cool air ruffle his ivory white feathers. His cloak sits on the ground next to him while his golden halos spin rapidly atop his head from where they float, glowing faintly in the fading evening light. After a moment, he lets his wings fold back up against his back, lowering his arms with a sharp exhale. In the distance, he catches a glimpse of the setting sun just before it dips below the horizon, shrouding the world in darkness. With a bored look, he picks at his nail, curling his toes in his shoes.

He’s already waved you off and watched as you wove your way out of the clearing and between the forest’s tangled trees back to your village. Now, he has nothing left to do but wait for your return the next day, his throat aching for your arrival with every passing second.

How far I have fallen, he thinks distantly to himself, to be reduced to nothing more than a helpless admirer for a human.

A moment passes, and his heart sighs.

A lovely human, at that.

All of a sudden, he hears a stick snap behind him, and Dream immediately snaps his fingers, his wings and halos disappearing in a flash, almost as if they had never existed to begin with. Whipping around on his heel, he narrows his eyes at the clearing entrance, jaw clenched in preparation. His shoulders are raised at his side, tense with anticipation when just then...

...you stumble out of the forest, tears streaking down your face.

Dream’s shoulders fall in an instant.

“Dream,” you choke out, your voice cracking sharply.

You don’t even get the chance to open your mouth again before he’s standing in front of you, his hands gripping your shoulders as gently as he can manage. His eyes scan your face as his stomach churns with agony at the despair painted onto your features. “[Y/N],” he murmurs softly, “what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

You sniffle, lifting your head to look at him through watery eyes as you open your mouth. “Karl—he’s sick. Really sick,” you babble like a winding stream. “The doctor doesn’t know what’s wrong with him, and he’s been coughing so badly that you can just tell he’s in pain. At this rate, I—I’m scared he’s not going to get any better. He... I’ve known him since forever, and I—”

The words die in your mouth as you cut yourself off with a broken sob, and Dream almost feels as though he’s been stabbed in the gut. He never wants to see you in pain, to see you as sad as this, and the fact that you are sobbing at all makes him want to wail himself.

Softly, he wraps his arms around you, pressing you close to your chest as he rocks you gently back and forth with your head resting on his shoulder. Your tears soak his shirt, but he doesn’t mind one bit. “Shh, [Y/N],” he coos quietly. “It’s going to be okay.”

You pull back with a wary gaze, fear etched into your features. “How do you know that?” you whisper. “What if he doesn’t get better? What then?”

Dropping one arm from behind you, Dream slips a hand into his pocket, quickly rubbing his fingers together. Just like that, cool glass that wasn’t there a moment earlier presses against the warmth of his palm, and he pulls out a vial filled with a pale, rosy liquid.

“Here,” he says, pressing the vial into your hand. “This is an antidote I’ve been...” He pauses for a split second, then fibs. “...holding onto for a while. For emergencies.” Slowly, he clasps your fingers until they’re closed around the glass top, sending you a reassuring smile. “Give this to Karl, and I promise you he’ll recover.”

You blink at him, your eyes glimmering underneath the light of the swirling stars overhead. “You swear?” you ask meekly, hope dancing along the edge of your lashes.

Dream swallows thickly and nods. “On my life.”

You inhale a deep, shuddering breath, then raise your hand to wipe at your eyes before smiling at him, warm and full of affection. “Okay,” you murmur as you step back from him. “I trust you, Dream.”

The next morning, you come tumbling into Dream’s arms with a gleeful cry, tears flowing freely down your face as you knock him to the ground. This time, they’re there for an entirely different reason as you ramble about Karl’s cleared airways when the doctor came to check on him after you fed him the antidote.

Beneath you, Dream relishes in the warmth of your body against his, praying you cannot feel the way his heart hammers against his chest.

There were not enough words in the world that he could use to describe how deep his devotion to you ran.

He fears there may never be enough.

Months pass in a blur, and Dream watches with knowing eyes as summer turns to autumn. Soon enough, snow coats the clearing although the waterfall continues to flow. No matter how harsh the weather, you stumble your way back to the forest to him, and each day, Dream feels himself sink deeper and deeper into the very essence that is you.

To think that there was once a time he never wanted to return here at all.

“Dream,” you say abruptly one day, “you know, I think you might be my favourite person in the world.”

He cocks a brow at you, his lips twitching up into a small smirk. “In the world?” he repeats. “I think Karl would be offended.”

You roll your eyes at him, but you can’t stop the smile from stretching across your face. “Maybe, but it’s the truth!” You lift a hand and begin counting off on your fingers. “You’re—you’re so nice, and passionate, and bold, and bright, and...” You pause, then chuckle almost shyly. “I could go on and on, but that’s embarrassing.”

He chuckles at your words, only growing more and more enamoured with each word that falls from your lips. “It’s not embarrassing,” he says gently. “It’s cute.”

Your shoulders suddenly stiffen, and you slowly turn your head to glance up at him. “Cute? You think I’m cute?”

He doesn’t have to think twice about his response. “Very much so. I would dare say that you are even more beautiful than you are cute.”

You whine with a pout, heat crawling up the side of your neck as you dig your thumbs into your palms. “You can’t just say things like that.”

He stares at you for a second, then he flashes you a grin that is both parts wicked and affectionate. “Maybe, but it’s the truth.”

Your mouth drops open at the way he fires your own words back at you, and you gape at him a moment before you groan, reaching over to playfully bat at his arm. “Why, you!”

He laughs at you and loves the way he can tell your heart races in your chest. He loves the way you smile despite your small shouts of frustration. He loves the way you are just so endearing to him in every which way.

He laughs at you and he loves you, hopelessly and wholly.

Dream gazes up at the orange sky with a slight frown and furrowed brows, watching as the clouds coast by overhead on a distant, northern gale. The waterfall babbles restlessly at his side, and he taps his foot against the smooth stones lining the pond with abandonment. The flowers he had once grown rake this petals over the soles of his shoes as he lets out a long sigh, anxiety slowly beginning to paw at his backside.

Are you going to show up at all today? he wonders. There are some days you don’t appear at all, typically because you had to run some errands or something of the sort, but those days are few and far between. He won’t chastise you for not seeing him, of course, but he cannot simply ignore the pang of his heart when he misses you so.

His fingers drum against the cool material clutched in his hands, and a melancholic look flits over his features. It would be a shame if you didn’t appear though, especially given what he had in mind for the day.

Right then, he hears your lovely voice call out for him. “Dream!”

His frown is immediately replaced by a smile as he whirls around to see you, his hands carefully tucked behind his back. “[Y/N],” he greets, striding up to you. “It’s good to see you.”

You’ve only just made it in front of him when he opens his mouth again, excitement filling his words to the absolute brim. “I brought you a gift.”

You blink wildly at him, pointing to yourself in surprise. “For me?”

His grin only grows wider, his heart leaping into his throat. “Of course it’s for you, silly. Who else?”

You squint for a second, then smile. “Karl?”

Dream deadpans at you, and you laugh in return, not noticing the way his eyes melt fondly at your expression. “I’m kidding,” you chide, shuffling a step closer to him. “So, what is it?”

He’s practically bouncing on the balls of his feet when he finally brings his hands out from behind him, pushing them towards you. “Ta-da! Here.”

Your breath catches at the sight of his palms, and with trembling hands, you reach up to pull the curved item from his hand. “Is this... a shell?” you whisper, your eyes as wide as saucers.

He nods, his emerald eyes gleaming with pride. “A conch shell,” he says. “From the ocean.”

You sputter as you gently turn the shell over in your hands, your fingers tracing over the solid edges with nothing short of pure shock. “H-How did you even get this? The nearest ocean is at least a week’s travel on horse away!”

Dream thinks of the wings he typically had tucked on his back and how they carried him to the ocean and back in less than a few minutes, but to you, he only smiles and shrugs. “I have my ways.”

You don’t respond for a moment, then two. All of a sudden, you sniffle, and Dream is bending before you in a heartbeat, his hands reaching for yours before just stopping short. “[Y/N]?” he asks in a soothing tone. “Is something wrong?”

Your gaze is watery, but only slightly as you raise your chin to look at him, your lower lip set with determination. “Dream,” you say with a shaky breath, “I have to tell you something.” You gulp. “It’s serious.”

Immediately, Dream’s mind runs through a million and five possibilities of what you could possibly say to him, each one increasingly worse than the last. Your family is in need of funds, or you’re about to leave on a life-threatening journey. Or maybe Karl is just sick, again.

But before he can run himself into the ground with his own worries, Dream lets out a breath and tilts his head at you. “What is it?”

Your gaze falls down to your feet, and you stare at the earth for an excruciatingly long minute. Dream simply stands in front of you, patiently and earnestly waiting for your response when you suddenly open your mouth.

“I—I love you.”

Dream’s lungs feel as though they are about to collapse in his chest. “You do?”

You bite your lip, but raise your head, your shoulders trembling at your sides. “Yes,” you whisper, the syllable steeped with emotion. With one hand clasped around the conch shell, the other reaches up to rest over your chest, palm pressed flats against your left side. “My heart is yours, all of it.”

The world is a blur of colours and sounds around him, and he can feel his head spin faster and faster as a wave of memories come crashing down over him, drowning him whole. He wants to tear his hair out and scream to the heavens above until his throat is raw and he can scream no more.

You love him. You love him back, and as much as he wants to burn your words into the back of his eyelids, something else sinks its claws into his heart and tears a hole right into the flesh.

This is not the first time you have spoken these words to him. No, not at all.

He had done his best to forget them over all those years, had tried his best to outrun the anguish with every century he lived through. After all, when you live as long as he has, it is only natural for him to forget some things. Through wandering across every land he had lovingly sculpted by hand, he had hoped to erase his suffering by engulfing himself in other worldly affairs, isolating himself entirely from others.

But no amount of time could ever truly erase the memories he had of you—the first incarnation of you, from all those years ago.

He remembers how the two of you had shared your first kiss under the light of the full moon, giggling to one another as he wrapped you up in his soft feathers. He remembers the way you would hold his hand and tell him about all the things you could not wait to do with him in the very same clearing he stood in now. He remembers the way your body went limp in his own arms, coughing until your lungs could cough no more. He remembers the agony and the torment as he wasted away, too caught up in the imprint of your skin against his before you turned to dust before his very eyes.

He remembers it all, and he cannot not let himself be shattered like that, again.

“I have to go,” he whispers, jerking his arm back from yours.

You whip your head up, pain shooting across your face. “Y-You’re leaving? What?”

He takes another step back and swallows down the lump in his throat, but it tastes like acid burning his stomach. “I—I can’t stay here.”

Before he can move back again, your hand shoots out to grab at the hem of his shirt, desperation soaking into your face: “P-Please,” you plead, “you can just say you don’t love me back. My feelings for you won’t change.”

He wants to cry. No, he thinks, it’s not that. It could never be that. Not with you.

You clutch at the cloth, hoping your feelings somehow reach him through your anguished touch. “I love you, Dream,” you begin, “I really do. I love how attentive you are, how much you always seem to care. You’re always so patient with me, so kind, so generous, and it makes me melt inside. I love the way your eyes shine so brightly, and I love your little freckles. I want to count them all, and I don’t mind if that takes the rest of eternity.”

You’re almost entirely out of breath by now, and Dream’s jaw has gone slack. He can only stare at you with a look of pure conflicting despair as your eyes search his for answers he knows he cannot possibly give. “An eternity with you would be nothing,” you breathe, your voice cracking. Your grip on his shirt suddenly goes limp, and your arm falls back to your side. “Please. Stay.”

The knife in his gut only seems to twist deeper as he takes yet another step back, his cloak feeling like a boulder upon his back. “I can’t,” he chokes out. “I really can’t.”

Tears line your eyes like tiny jewels, and he wishes he could wipe them away. “Why?” you beg. “Why do you have to go?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, shaking his head. He doesn’t even know where to begin.

In front of him, a look of absolute defeat sinks into your expression, and your voice grows smaller than ever. “At least—at least tell me if I’ll ever see you again.”

Dream’s feels the back of his eyes sting, and he clenched his hands beside him. “Not in this lifetime,” he wants to say. “And hopefully not in the next, either.”

“I’m sorry, [Y/N],” he says instead.

Just like that, he watches as the light fades from your eyes, vanishing from sight as the setting sun watches on with a sad gaze. Your lower lip trembles, and before you can stop yourself, you’re crumpling to the ground in a heap and watering the earth with your tears. You clutch the conch shell to your chest and let it dig into your chest from how tightly you press it against yourself, your vision completely blurred. In front of you, Dream holds back tears of his own, forcing himself to look away from your broken figure as he walks toward the forest away from you.

Your wails follow after him even after he unfurls his wings deep in the forest and soars up into the sky, flying high above the world below as he dries his tears with the harsh wind that bites at his face.

He will not return here for a long, long time.

He doesn’t think he would even be able to bring himself to if he tried.

Dream brushes a stray leaf off his shoulder as he steps over a root, his eyes focused on the bushes before him. A bird chirps as he strolls past a tree, nestling further into its nest as he ducks under the branch. He smiles at the sight, a deep fondness seeping into his heart as he lets his hand run over the tree’s hard bark.

He recognizes this forest—these trees. He knows this sky, has leapt over these rocks. He’s walked this path before.

It’s a shame he can’t remember how long it’s been since he last came here.

He hums a quiet melody to himself as he weaves a path between the trees, drawing nearer and nearer to the place he had been searching for with every passing second. He’s only a few steps away when a sound calls out to him—a sound that isn’t a part of the forest.

“Hello?”

Dream goes stock still, his heart coming to a screeching halt in his chest.

He knows that voice, too.

Sucking in a deep breath, he slowly steps forward, out into the entrance of the clearing. In front of the waterfall stands a silhouette he is absolutely positive he’s seen before—countless times before. Something tells him that he should leave, that he should run far, far away and disappear from view. But as he watches the silhouette take a tentative step toward him, his inhibitions fall away.

Warmth blossoms in the space between his lungs, all encompassing and full of grief as he opens his mouth.

“Hi.”

[idleglowingpixels]

Welcome To My Blog!

Whether you're here from my AO3 or from the great beyond, I'd like to welcome you to my blog page. This is mainly intended as a master-post detailing a few things about me, a list of my AO3 fanfics with hyperlinks, what you can expect from my blog -- so forth and so on. I'll probably edit this over time, so if you're ever unsure about something, this would be the post to consult.

About Me And My Blog

Lin / Idle 20 Scorpio (Western Horoscope), Horse (Chinese Zodiac) Cis Female (She/Her) Bisexual

IdleGlowingPixels is my unhinged (currently main) blog. I'm a multifandom writeblr account, mainly focused on fanfics for franchises with low fantasy, romance, and action (mainly superheroes, for some reason...?) elements. I also dabble a bit into horror, but usually I'm more interested in horror that's not super gruesome or disturbing.

I'm currently in the process of developing another writeblr blog specializing in my original works. When I complete it, I'll tag it here.

Asks are open!

Feel free to send me an ask! It can be about my stories, fandoms, me, or whatever you like as long as you're respectful about it. (Spare Asks, Spare Asks Sir/Ma'am)

I am a Tag-Game Friendly blog!

I'm more than open to ask and/or tag games. Again, so long as it's respectful, I'd be happy to be tagged and participate in tag games, especially writeblr-related games!

What You'll Find Here (In No Chronological Order)

Giving more frequent/thorough updates regarding my AO3 fics than the Author's Notes on my fics can allow || Discussing content, head-canons, etc. explored in my fics

Current/Ongoing Works:

XXY || PowerPuff Girls (1998) || Teen AU, Mostly Slice-of-Life, Teen Romance & Canon-Typical Action/Violence (#xxy)

Completed Works:

I'll Talk To You Then || Miraculous Ladybug || 1.1k Word Ficlet/Oneshot || Major Character Death, Tragedy, Chat Noir Identity Reveal (#I'll Talk To You Then)

Trapped By The Rain || Monster High AU || 5.7k Oneshot || Pre-Relationship Fluff for Frankie X Jackson/Holt, in Holt's POV (#trapped by the rain)

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Fanwork masterposts/hyperlink posts || Regularly updated as more content releases || Typically has links to character bios, designs, and related fics

(XXY Masterpost is currently a WIP; will update when enough content releases)

Idle's Monster High AU Masterpost

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Content About Or Related (But Not Limited) To The Following Franchises:

PowerPuff Girls (1998)

Mainly regarding updates about my fic || May also discuss aspects of the 2016 series in relation to my fic || Excited for the 2024 series -- the creator's back AND it's gonna be serialized? Sign me up, I just hope its team can recreate the magic

My Little Pony: Friendship Is Magic (2010)/My Little Pony: Equestria Girls (2013)

Almost always reblogging || I don't really follow Gen 5 content so my knowledge is minimal || I grew up on G1 & G3 as the target audience then G4 from adolescence onward

Monster High (2010)

Got into the franchise around late-G1 but didn't really get hyped about it until the pandemic || Gen 3 enjoyer almost solely for merchandise; I plan on watching the series but I'm scared I won't like it q-q I enjoyed the live-action movies tho || working on a G1-based AU with G3 elements I really like (ex. Twyla having ASD, Heath being the son of Hades, etc.)

Miraculous Ladybug (2015)

I don't even know why I still care for this dumpster fire || I'm not continuing past Season 5, I'm sorry I can't do it no more q-q || I intend to make an AU fic rewriting the series in the future!

Five Nights At Freddy's (2014)

My only experience with the franchise is through YouTube || Personally consider the Steel Wool era not canon to the Scott Cawthon era, but do enjoy SW's games || If I do post about it outside of reblogs it's probably for personal thoughts on upcoming/newly released content, or for a Human AU I'm not planning on writing a fic for but I might post about here and there idk

Sonic The Hedgehog (1991)

Usually about the live-action movies, Sonic X or Sonic Boom (TV Series), I don't really follow the games haha

Cuphead (2017) & The Cuphead Show! (2022)

Almost always reblogging || I still haven't seen the DLC content :')

Disclaimers

As you can see from the previous section, this is a multi-fandom blog. I plan on trying to make separate archives/masterposts/specific tags for my AO3 works and fandoms but otherwise it will be mostly multi-fandom with little to no organization.

I try my best to maintain a safe space on my SMs -- if you support/fall under any general DNI criteria, please respectfully DNI with me, my blog or anything on my AO3.

If I make a mistake to any degree in one of my posts, feel free to correct me, I only ask that it's done with mutual respect in mind. I try to be open to criticism so long as it has a constructive intent and isn't delivered in a cruel/demeaning/humiliating manner.

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I hope you enjoy your browse through my blog, and maybe enjoy my works on AO3 as well. Thanks so much for visiting!

(Updated on 10/26/23)

[iagreewithlilithsrightsnwrongs]

i have a very nice liliava scene on my college au. on their second year, students have to choose between three mediums to study for the next 3 years. beatrice, ava, n lilith all chose painting (which is the one i chose irl btw!! this au is based on my experiences in my uni). this is fine for bea n ava who have a slow but growing friendship. lilith n ava however cant seem to get along too well, since lilith is very standoffish n cant stand ava’s carefree attitude towards her uni work.

lilith is serious. she comes from a successful family of painters, very rich and very strict. lilith actually does like painting, always has even before knowing her family business, but it turns from a hobby to a duty the moment she can speak. she needs to be a painter, she needs to master in arts, if not painting then maybe sculpture, none of that modern contemporary nonsense, the classier the better. lilith goes to the same art college her parents went to, which is in porto, potugal. the teaching is sufficient and the curriculum is acceptable, n so both parents aim for lilith to go to this uni n then master in painting in another country, possible in paris or italy, depending on how well lilith does with this one. 

lilith is cold, objective, and solely focused on her work. shes intense but manages to hide it well from the teachers as to not scare them off. she doesnt care for the students tho, they can think whatever they want. she knows who she is and who she is going to be. none of them can compare to her and this is just fact.

ava, however, only went to portugal since its her hometown n she thought it’d be sweet to study art there. shes carefree, and she goes with the flow. doesnt have grand plans, just wants to learn all abt art and meet new people and go out, live her life. lilith doesnt get that, cant get that, n so they clash n fight a lot. they have drawing class together and it is painful for everyone involved.

they do share on moment of peace during their first year drawing class, but it is brief. the moment i want to talk abt is in their second year, painting class.

their painting classroom, an atelier, is open at all times, even at saturday. ava was catching up on one painting while some classmates were hanging out n making a LOT of noise. she was kinda fed up, but just focused on finishing the painting. she takes a lil break, gets up, walks around n checks out the other’s paintings. she sits pretty close to the door, so when her classmates runs off out the door, they clash with her easel, and the painting crashes on the floor. all ava’s prayers of it being unscathed are not answered. while it fell, it scrapped along a lil table where she keeps her supplies, one everyone has, and now her painting has a long wide stroke of paint all over it. hours of work, gone. paint wasted, hours wasted. 

ava tries to remain calm n positive. she does not want to have a fainting spell or worse cry in a place any of her classmates can walk into. she puts the painting back in place and thats when she cries. she has the sudden urge to just rip it out, destroy it, n that just makes both her arms tingle n go numb, so now she’s upset abt that. she also can’t breathe properly n she’s sobbing quite loudly, sat on her stool, head on her knees, arms pathetically dead on either side of her, unmoving. thats when lilith walks in.

now. lilith isn’t actually heartless. she just doesnt have time for friendships built on actual love n care n shit, that shit doesnt help. but... as she gingerly walks in and circles around to look at ava, shes confused n a lil bit concerned. then she looks up n sees the painting and audibly gasps. ava looks up, sees lilith, they make eye contact, n lilith watches ava’s already red, blotchy, swollen, tear riddled face crumple n sob even harder. ava is so embarrassed she wants to disappear. apparently that means she has to faint so she tries to warn lilith but lilith just ends up with an armful of semi conscious ava. lilith is fucking panicking, ava is disgusting n limp n a mess and its only 11 am on a wednesday she didnt ask for this. 

still, smth in her snaps n she puts on her best soothing voice (aka beatrice voice) n tries to calm ava down (aka acting like beatrice). it doesnt work, it only makes ava more confused so she just curses n says “for fucks sake dont faint please, i’ll help you fix it. cant do it with u out like a light now can i”. that manages to calm ava down. after some breathing exercises, and some weird awkward head petting, ava is fine. mostly. 

they both look at the mess of a painting n ava just half screams half sighs n goes “welp!” with fake cheerfulness. that bugs lilith for reasons yet unknown, but she does help them both up n does damage control. “we’ll tell the teacher, hes reasonable n for all ur faults u are a very fast painter so. it’ll be fine. we just wipe off what we can n then... well maybe you should not touch it for a bit. yknow. distance yourself from it. or whatever” 

its the first time ava sees lilith so painfully awkward but earnest, making zero eye contact, but nodding seriously to the painting as if it was her own problem n not ava’s. lilith cares. for ava. and even tho her face is still very wet, she’s smiling so wide right now. it will be okay. it’s fine. she’s got this (we got this).

[fireflyinsummer]

An Amalgamation Waltz 1839. |01|

> pairing: min yoongi x reader

> genre: FallenAngel!AU

> words: 23k

> warnings: hints of smut (heavy make out), a scene of harassment (nothing explicit), violence. possible heresy. forgive me. a third party’s unrequited feelings for OC. don’t know if i did this right, it’s 3 am right now.

> summary: When it comes to the both of you, a lifetime is not enough. And when it comes to you, there’s really no lines he wouldn’t be willing to cross. Even on the brink of a war that could destroy the world as we know it, you’re everything.

  “ (...) ‘Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?’ he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

   ‘I’ve never had to,’ you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you.”

a/n: my love for Paradise Lost gave birth to this. i really like this one :) gonna be posting the second (and last) part soon! no need to say that PL was just an inspiration, this isn’t exactly based on the poem. 

                                               “(…) Here at least

We shall be free, the almighty hath not built

Here for his envy, will not drive us hence:

Here we may reign secure, and in my choice

To reign is worth ambition though in hell:

Better to reign in hell, than serve in heaven.”

     The sudden thud on the wooden surface of the table made you jolt and close the book, heart rate increasing considerably.

  “Y/N.” His voice was deep, dragging your name through his teeth to evince his annoyance. The bustling café was already at its peak hours and you didn’t even notice the time as it passed you by.

  “Yes, Taehyung?” You ogled your grumpy friend, his noisy arrival being due to the study material he tossed in front of you.

  “You said you’d help me with English lit. I was waiting for you at the library for about an hour and your phone is off.” As you remembered why you were even in the café in the first place, you threw him a guilty look. He pouted. “Hey, what does that Milton guy have that I don’t? And the fancy words don’t count.” You giggled.

  “John Milton has nothing on you, Tae. He’d probably need my help to get through this semester as well.” The joke seemed to almost let you in his good graces again, but you knew he still needed the bribery. “I’ll buy you your favorite if you forgive me.” You could tell he was fighting back a smile upon hearing your offer, his mood suddenly uplifted.

  “Okay. But don’t think I’ll let you off the hook that easily.”

  “I wouldn’t dare. Wait here.” You went to the balcony to pay the check and get his frappuccino to go. Taehyung was a sweet guy who liked sweet things, and that also applied to his coffee. His sweet tooth earned him a nickname from you – Marzipan. Waiting for the bartender to finish your order, you looked over where your best friend was digging through your copy of Paradise Lost without much enthusiasm.

   You had moved in next door to his house about fifteen years ago, and you two instantly initiated a solid friendship. As much as you could say about three-year-olds. Despite him being one of your favorite people in the whole world, the both of you were into totally different things. He went to parties, you enjoyed some lone quality time. He played all sorts of sports, you preferred to stick to your writing and, sometimes, the piano. You were still working on the latter. But even though you seemed to be totally opposites, he still got you like no one else could. He was the person you told all your secrets to, not that you had that many anyway, and you liked to think – no, you were sure of it – he felt the same way about you.

  “Here’s your overly-sweet drink, Marzipan. I don’t even know if you can still call it coffee,” you scowled.

  “Don’t diss my frappuccino, it’s the sole reason of my forgiveness.”

  “Yeah, right. So, you wanna get going? I’m sure you have a lot of thoughts on that book already.”

  “It was very average so far, if I do say so myself. I don’t know why you like it so much,” he teased you.

  “Well, that’s what the private lessons are for. So I can teach you good taste.” You pushed the door open and immediately shivered as you felt a cold gush of air. It was snowing.

  “Here, take my coat. Why don’t you ever wear decent clothes in the winter? I swear to God, I don’t know how you never caught something serious, like pneumonia or whatever,” he scolded.

  “You don’t have to. We’re near home anyway,” you tried to reassure him, but he was, as usual, outwardly ignoring it. “Really, Tae, it’s no big deal. Let’s go.” He was ready to fight you on this one, but you were already walking away. He took a few hurried steps to catch up.

  After a ten-minute walk, daylight was almost completely gone, lit lampposts following its wake. You both hit the front door rug with your feet several times before getting inside, your mom was a bit freaky when it came to cleaning.

  “Mom, Tae’s here!” You shouted from the living room, guessing she was in the kitchen. “We’re going upstairs for a bit! School work!”

  “Okay, honey! Tell him that dinner will be ready soon!” She responded.

  “I love you, Ms. D’Angelis!” He shot back. Yes, you had an italian background. When she heard his voice, she made sure to come out and greet him.

  “Love you, too, honey”, she pecked his forehead and he beamed. They liked each other way too much for their own good. “And you,” she pointed in your direction, “give mamma a kiss.”

  You sighed before attending to her request. It was in your best interest not to fight it. “Okay, enough of this. We’ll be upstairs if you need us.”

  “Have fun, kids.” You sure would. Taehyung might beg to differ.

  The rest of the night was somewhat peaceful. You had helped Taehyung as much as you could before your mother called you out to eat, claiming that you shouldn’t starve the boy and then make him eat a cold meal. He couldn’t agree fast enough. For the most part, that was your life. Uncomplicated and comfortable, which was plenty for an eighteen year old. When you went to bed after practicing the piano for a little while, you were completely unaware of the pair of pitch black eyes that observed you through the window. But he was fully aware of you.

  ||\\

                                                                    [Fear of the Water, by SYML]

  You knew it was a dream. From the moment your brain processed the heavenly sight that unrevealed before your eyes, you knew. It was breaking dawn, the soft orange light kissing the ocean like a long lost lover. You were at the end of a cliff, but couldn’t find it in yourself to be afraid. You looked down at the waves that broke into the rocks almost violently, the salty breeze somewhat comforting. You loved the sea.

  Taking a few deep breaths, you barely noticed the crack. The sound came from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t want to look away from the view, neither did you want to wake up. When you heard it again, you recognized footsteps. You turned around lazily, curious as to whom it would be the visitor of your reverie. When you fixed your eyes on him, though, you stopped breathing for a moment and your heart surely skipped a beat. He was a stranger in a number of ways, for he was seemed truly unworldly. Maybe ethereal was the word you were looking for. His violet eyes were scrutinizing you from head to toe. Beautiful. His hair was dark as it fell like a silky curtain on his forehead. Not a single flaw on his skin or his body, but none of that was as breathtaking as what lied on his back. Great, large white wings, so beautifully outstretched that you felt unworthy of looking at them.

  You opened your mouth a few times, but nothing would come out. Probably for the best, you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself in front of what was probably your mind’s greatest creation. How you could come up with him was beyond you. You wanted to ask his name before it all ended and you had to go back to real life, back to average. You wanted to touch his face, his wings, see for yourself if they felt as they looked. You wished you never woke up. As he took a step closer, you took your own back, startled at the sudden movement. Before you realized your mistake, it was too late. You had lost your balance. You knew it would be over soon. Taking one last look at the stranger, you saw as he stretched one arm to reach you, but to no avail. Too soon, the wind was ricocheting your skin and you were falling.

  You woke up with a loud gasp as you searched for air, finding it oddly rarefied. When you registered the annoyingly high pitch of your alarm, you whined. Real life was the last thing you wanted to face right now, but if you told your mother that you’d stay in bed daydreaming about a figment of your imagination, she would personally retrieve you from the bed and toss you into the shower. Made sense.

  Getting ready as quickly as you could manage, you felt excited for no obvious reason. Maybe it was the afterglow of the dream, but now you were eager to get out of the house, as if you wanted to find him. Which was insane, because you knew he did not exist. Come to think about him now, it was getting harder by the minute to remember his face. You panicked.

  Running towards your desk and grabbing a pencil and your notebook, you tried to recreate him on paper, which was a lost battle from the start. Even if you were some doodling genius – you were definitely not – you would never be able to do him justice. You doubted anyone who had ever stepped on this planet, past or present, ever would. It was not the kind of beauty that could be explained or demonstrated, but rather felt. He wasn’t just inhumanely pretty, wings and all. There was something about him that you couldn’t quite pinpoint. It may sound cheesy and totally deranged, but you felt whole in those few shared moments, like you knew him your entire life. Your mind didn’t recognize him, but your body did.

  Groaning at the piece of paper and throwing the pencil at your baby-blue wall in annoyance, you gave up. It was pointless, his features were already escaping your mind. You didn’t know why you were so hung up on a dream, honestly. Seeing that you were a little riled up, you decided to let it go and just finish getting ready for class. You could see through the window that Taehyung was already waiting for you.  

    ||\\

 “So, how did it go?”

  He pouted before answering. “It went alright.” Lies, he was a big fat liar.

  “C’mon, Marzipan, be honest with me for a second.”

  The nickname finally broke him down. “Fine, I hated it. I remember you telling me about every important detail of the subject yesterday, but I couldn’t put it on paper. Plus, why the fuck does he have to elaborate the questions so much? Most of the time I didn’t even understand what was being asked. Literature sucks,” he whined indignantly. You could tell it was taking a toll on him.

  “Don’t worry too much about it, okay? I will help you. We’ll both graduate this year, yeah?” you reached his hand on a reassuring squeeze.

  “If you say so.”

  “I do.”

  “Then sure. But you have to take me seriously, Y/N,” he warned you. “No more losing track of time in coffee shops.”

  “Hey, I bought you a frappuccino, that incident should be six feet under by now,” you accused and he mumbled a grumpy response.

  The both of you spent half of the morning taking the lit test. You thought you did fine, though the questions really were a little bit tricky. Walking side by side with Taehyung, you didn’t notice him at first. But once you realized there were no seats available right next to each other, your eyes eventually landed on his.

  “We can’t sit together through this class, we’re too late,” Tae grumbled, trying to get your attention back to himself, but to no avail. “Y/N? Hey!” He flicked your forehead and you yelped.

  “Did you just… flick me?” you seethed.

  “I wouldn’t have had to if you weren’t lusting over the new guy. Who is he, by the way?” If you acknowledged the hint of jealously in his tone, you didn’t show it.

  “I was not lusting over anybody,” you huffed.

  “If you say so.”

  “Stop saying that.”

  “Grumpy. Is it because I caught you?” You just snarled and took a seat at the front row, while he chuckled and chose the one in the back.

  To be honest, you were lusting a little. Those eyes seemed oddly familiar, though you couldn’t quite put a finger on why. The rest of the day passed by smoothly; you were able to sit with Taehyung for the remaining classes you had together and even helped him a bit with some homework. After a while, your new classmate was nowhere near your mind, despite that funny feeling you got every time you looked at him. Maybe it was because he was stunningly handsome. Who knows? You never cared much about those things, but you were only human.

  On your way home with Taehyung, you felt eyes burning on your back. You turned around and found him staring, expression unfathomable. He wore a black lather jacket, jeans and a black shirt, his dark hair beautifully disheveled. He gave you a wanton grin and you scoffed. Well, you knew his type, and it unnerved you to death.

  Preppy playboy. Nothing more, nothing less.

  He cut off the eye contact abruptly, heading towards a grey motorcycle. No shit, huh? You almost laughed at the predictability. You weren’t exactly into bikes, but that looked expensive. And it suited him perfectly.

  “Holy-… do you see that? That’s a Triumph fucking Rocket,” Taehyung gasped, shaking your elbow lightly. “A 2500cc engine capacity Triumph Rocket. Man, his parents must be loaded. That’s not a high schooler’s bike,” he said, almost dreamy. Yeah, you saw that coming from a mile away.

  “You talking about the new guy?” You asked nonchalantly, turning your head as you resumed walking.  

  “Don’t even try to pretend you weren’t ogling just now,” he accused.

  “You’re obsessed with our new-found bad boy. Maybe you should date him, Tae,” a snicker left your lips at his appalled expression.

  “Shut up,” he pushed your shoulder. “I’m just curious.”

  “As in bi-curious?”

  “Okay, that’s it, I’m leaving you behind,” he grumbled as he fastened his pace. You chuckled, trying to catch up with his long legs.

  When you arrived home, you noticed an attempt of a drawing on top of your bed. It looked like a poorly doodled angel. First things first: though it definitely looked like something made by your hands, you didn’t have any recollection of it, let alone of leaving it on display like that. You looked around, searching for something, but nothing else seemed out of place. Trying to shrug the uneasiness off, you picked some clothes off the wardrobe and went for a warm bath.

    ||\\

  It was a Saturday afternoon, so you planned to do the usual: hit the library and grab some coffee on your way home. Taehyung had promised to watch a movie with you this weekend, but a surprise party to one of his friends came up. He’d invited you to tag along, more out of habit than anything else. Your answer was always the same when he asked you to spend time with his peers; you weren’t even remotely fond of them. They had maybe one functioning braincell and a whole lot of conceit. Not your crowd at all.

  “Mom, I’m leaving. Do you need me to get you anything?” You said, already on your way to the front door.

  She was sprawled on the couch, gazing attentively at the TV.  “No, honey, thank you. Are you going out with Tae?”

  “Nope, something came up, we rescheduled. I won’t be long.”

  “Okay, then. Be careful!”

  “Will do!”, you shouted from the outside.

  It was closing time when the sweet old lady had to gently kick you out. You weren’t surprised when you found out your phone was dead; you probably had a billion calls from your mother and, if she was desperate enough, maybe even Taehyung. Letting out a sigh, you grabbed your stuff quickly and waved goodbye to the librarian as you made your way out the door, grumbling to yourself about not being able to pick up some coffee now.

  The air was hazy and cold, you couldn’t see more than ten feet ahead, and the streets were oddly empty. You tightened your coat around your body and quickened your pace, not willing to spend more time outside than you needed to. Seeing that all the stores were closed, you realized that Martha (the librarian) probably let you outstay your welcome a little bit. You cursed at the freezing night and your cheap coat. Taehyung was right, you should buy warmer clothes.

  Lost in thoughts, you were stupid enough to miss the drunken noises coming from the end of the street. There was a group of three men coming your way and they all seemed to have ingested an unhealthy amount of booze, laughing loudly and pushing each other playfully. You felt cold sweat fall down your spine but just tried to ignore it, hoping that you’d be able to pass them by without being noticed.

  “Y/N?” His voice was dragged, and he was tumbling around the words. It was only then you realized they were from your school, the boy in the middle being Jimmy, Taehyung’s drink buddy.

  “Hi”, you tried to stay as far away as possible, but the one with the fashionably boring rectangular glasses didn’t let you, hooking his arm around your neck. He reeked of cigarettes and whiskey.

  “C’monnn-“ he hiccupped, “don’t you wanna par-tay with-“ another one, “-us?”

  You repressed the urge to gag as your pulse quickened.

  “Not really. I have to go,” you almost managed to untangle his disgusting arm from you, but he kept it in place, holding you tighter. “Let go of me.”

  You were annoyed. And scared to death, to be honest. These boys didn’t exactly live by a moral code, and the four of you were alone in the middle of nowhere. You didn’t trust them.

  “Aww, don’t be shy, princess. You’re always so… boring. Makes me curious about what you’ve got going on under all… that.” The last one, Ian, made his way towards you, snickering menacingly. He wasn’t as drunk as the other two, and if you could give a hunch, you’d say he knew exactly was he was doing. That scared you even more. Feeling the brick-wall hit your back, you realized you were cornered, a curse escaping your dry lips.

  “Look, I really have to g-“ he cut you off by pressing his body into yours, making you lose your breath for all the wrong reasons. “What the fuck, man?! Let go of me!” You were visibly growing desperate as you tried to punch his face and his chest, but that only earned you a chuckle from him as he held both your wrists with one hand.

  “Feisty. I like it.” You almost puked right then and there, the bile stuck in your throat making you scowl. He let his filthy fingers slide down your sides, until he could grope your ass.

  Your stomach sank, heart drumming against your ribcage as you held back a whimper.

Okay, think.

  Taehyung had taught you the basics about self defense a thousand moons ago. And yet, you realize that it was nothing like the real thing. You balled your clammy fingers tightly, knuckles white as you scanned every corner of your brain to try and find a way out.

  “Tae will kill you if you touch me,” your voice trembled. You couldn’t help it.

  He laughed whole-heartedly. As if the mere thought was actually funny to him.

  “He wouldn’t dare, sweetheart. Besides, I think he actually wouldn’t mind sharing his bitch with us for the night,” he stated. “He’s not using it anyways,” he punctuated with a roll of his hips and, this time, as you felt the pathetic bulge inside his pants, you couldn’t hold back a tiny sob. Because fuck, this was it. There was no way you could take down three grown men on your own.

  “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” The voice was low and steady. It made your skin crawl. You snapped your head and looked at the dark haired man standing behind the boys. Ian lazily turned around, still keeping your wrists wrapped tight in his hand.

  “None of your business, newbie. Now get out of my sight before I lose my patience.”

  When he chuckled, it was different from Ian’s. It was darker, rougher, and concealed a vicious ferocity that you knew was there. You knew because, as he disregarded your aggressor and looked you in the eyes, you almost feared for them.

  “Ian, dude, let it go.” Jimmy instantly sobered up and tried to avoid any confrontation. To think he spent time with your best friend but would let Ian harass you without saying a word was disgusting. “Come on, your old man will kill you if you get in trouble again.” So that was his main concern. Still looking out for his shitty, abusive friend. Men’s sorority really is misogyny.

  “You should listen to your friend. Believe me, you won’t survive me when I get my hands on you,” he stated matter-of-factly. You felt the sincerity in your bones. And so did Ian and his stupid cavalry. “Leave.”

  Ian sighed, but relented. You felt a hot wave of relief as he disconnected his body from yours, leaning on the wall for balance as your legs wabbled.

  “You better watch out,” he spits.

  “Y/N, I... I’m really sorry,” Jimmy said as he scooped his friends and dragged them away from you. “You too, Min. He’s just drunk. We would’ve stopped him if it got too far.”

  He’s lying. You can tell.

  “Get the fuck out of my sight,” he growls, his composure faltering for a minute. As they stray out of view, he turns his gaze to you.

  “Care to tell me what the hell are you doing walking alone in the middle of the night?”

  He’s angry.

  You scoffed, adjusting your coat around your shoulders and straightening your back.

  “Thank you for the help, but I’m too old for a babysitter,” you say. “Besides, I don’t even know you.”

  He looks at you and, as if trying to regain some sense and control a fit of rage, he closes his eyes and pinches the bridge of his nose before exhaling a long puff of air.

  “Alright. My name is Yoongi,” he takes you by surprise as he snatches your wrist in an iron grip, “And I'm fucking walking you home.”

  As he drags you across the street, you want to yell at him. You want to tell him to fuck off, you preppy bastard. But you don’t.

  Because the truth is, you’re so fucking grateful. God knows what would’ve happened if it wasn’t for him. As he calms down, he drops your hand and slows his pace, allowing you to catch up without having to make an effort. You want to talk, but you choose to stay quiet.

   Now that you weren’t so skittish anymore, it finally dawned you how the snow was beautifully spread throughout the streets, the trees, the buildings. Everything that was cool, cold, blue, held some fascination to you. Summer was never really your season – it had always been winter. To be able to curl up on your couch with a warm blanket and a hot cup of coffee, it was heavenly. You always thought that, if you could see the world through a color palette, it would be in different shades of blue.

  The snow was not the only thing that you were entranced by, though. Yoongi was, from what you saw so far, much like winter to you. Harsh when needed, cool, but also peaceful and comforting. He didn’t urge you to talk about the incident; he didn’t urge you to talk at all. His mannerisms caught your attention from time to time – how he constantly ran his long fingers through his hair, how his eyes seemed to flutter shut lazily a few times in a row, or how he carried himself so elegantly that it almost made you jealous. He looked terribly familiar, too.

  “Why are you staring?” His bluntness caught you off guard, but still couldn’t disturb the peacefulness of the moment.

  “Just curious.” It was true. “Apart from the motorcycle and the superhero complex, I don’t know much about you.”

  “Well, there’s not much to know.”

  You hummed in response. “What are you doing here, then?” You ask, and his feet come to a halt.    

  “What is this, an interrogation?”

  You scoff, and you both start walking again. “Just trying to make conversation. Besides, I’m actually curious,” you ponder. “People don’t move into this town very often,” you kick the snow under your feet. He sighs.

  “I’m here with my… brother,” he hesitated before continuing, “he’s my guardian, sort of. We used to move a lot. Work thing.” He couldn’t hold back a grimace, but it disappeared in a second. You wanted to ask about his parents, but felt like you’d be crossing a line, so you kept your curiosity to yourself. “Now you tell me,” he said.

  “Tell you what?”

  “About yourself. Your family. Whatever you want to.”

  “Um, let me see. I live with my mom. We moved from Italy when I was about three years old. My dad… my dad stayed.” You didn’t want to get into it, and he immediately noticed, just nodding for you to continue. “She’s been taking care of me by herself since then.”

  He hummed in understanding, sparing you a few glances that you couldn’t quite decipher.

  Before you knew, your house was already in sight. You wished you lived farther, just so you could keep that strange interaction on for a little longer.

  “Well, this is me,” you announced. Lying about your address had crossed your mind somewhere along the way.

  “Sorry if I was a jerk,” he surprised you by saying. You mouth opens and closes a few times before you say anything.

  “It’s okay, I guess. I was pretty riled up, too.”

  He nodded. “See you Monday, then?” His voice was deep and silky.

  “Yeah. Hey, I… I’m glad you showed up when you did.”

  “I am, too,” there was a dark undertone in his voice. “Good night, Y/N,” he surprised you by leading his right hand to the top of your head and lightly messing your hair before walking away. You stood still for a minute, until your mother opened the door.

  “Y/N?! Darling, why did you take so long? I was so worried!”

  “Um… Sorry, mom. I ran into a friend and my phone was off.”

  “Well, you should’ve at least borrowed your friend’s phone to let me know, things aren’t like they used to be around these parts anymore, it’s getting pretty danger-“

   She kept talking as she let you in, but you couldn’t concentrate. That night, you dreamt of him.

   ||\\                            

 “(…) Farewell happy fields

Where joy for ever dwells: hail horrors, hail

Infernal world, and thou profoundest hell

Receive thy new possessor: one who brings

A mind not to be changed by place or time.

The mind is its own place, and in itself

Can make a heaven of hell, a hell of heaven.”

     You didn’t think of yourself as an early riser, but when Monday morning came, you woke up before the alarm – and seemed almost delighted to do so. To be honest, you really tried to ignore the eagerness to see him again, but to no avail. The day before was thoroughly torturous, flashes of the short period of time you spent together coming back to haunt you now and then. At some point, you were so annoyed that you just lied on the bed and attempted to blast your eardrums off by listening to some crappy rock band at full volume. It didn’t work, obviously, and now you probably had hearing damage. The cons and cons of obsession.

  At this exact moment, for the first time in your entire friendship, you were banging on Taehyung’s door first. Because you just couldn’t wait a minute longer.

  “Damn it, woman, was is it with you today?” The sound of his voice was muffled. That, or you were going deaf, there was no way to tell for sure.

  “You’re going to make us late, Marzipan!” At that, he opened his bedroom door slightly, just enough so you could peek at his disheveled hair and sleepy face.

  “It’s dick o’clock in the morning, we have at least forty minutes until we leave,” his voice was rugged and he had an aggrieved look plastered on his pouty face.

  “I brought you coffee,” you smiled at him while raising the thermal cup.

  “Stop the madness and go wait for me downstairs, Gilmore girl,” he grunted. “Dad probably misses you, the poor old man. Keep him company, will ya?”

  “Don’t be silly, Mrs. Kim need his sleep in the morning.”

  “Then shut up and don’t wake him,” he grunted, closing the door shut, but it took him just a second to reopen it. “Wait, if dad’s asleep, how did you get in?”

  “I, uh… Might or might not know that you keep a spare key inside the porcelain elf’s hat,” your lips tugged upwards sheepishly.

  “Of course you do, you little imp. I’ll be down in a sec,” he grumbled and shut the door again.

  Taehyung had asked you a couple of times why you were so anxious to get to school that morning, but you just brushed it off with an excuse that you knew he wouldn’t buy. There were several reasons as to why you wanted to keep things to yourself for now. Mainly, it was because you were afraid that he’d be furious enough to break Ian’s face in front of everybody once you told him the whole story. Not that you felt any sympathy, but rather that you didn’t want Tae to get in trouble. You’d tell him as soon as you could, though. You didn’t care for the idea of him being friends – or whatever they were – with Jimmy.

  As soon as you stepped into school ground, you discreetly searched for his motorcycle in the parking lot. It wasn’t there. You tried not to let the disappointment show on your face, but you couldn’t help it. He didn’t come today. Who cares? As much as you wanted to force some sense into your stubborn brain, you were still hoping he’d show up, even if you didn’t talk to each other. You just wanted to see him, is all. Great time to start acting like a stupid teenager, Y/N. Kudos.

  You were in the middle of a pretty heated argument with yourself as you entered the classroom. Taehyung picked a desk in the middle, as he usually did when the both of you were able to sit next to each other. You were almost putting your stuff down at his side when something caught your attention. There. You felt a girlish jolt of excitement when you saw Yoongi sitting at the last row. His silky black hair was damped, probably from the shower, and he was wearing a black, long sleeved shirt, v cut. You were about to divert your eyes, but then he stared right at your face and calmy removed his bag from the chair next to his. He smirked, as if defying you to take a seat. Annoying little piece of-

  “Tae, do you mind if I sit somewhere else today?”

  “What?” He looked at you, confused. “Where do you want us to…” Your eyes flashed to the end of the room and he followed your gaze. “What? Why would you-”

  “Do you mind?”

  “Uh… No?”

  “Okay, great. See you soon.” You knew Taehyung was confused, so you should probably be thinking of what to tell him when this class was over. But for now, you just carried yourself to the empty spot in the back. Yoongi was looking at you with an amused expression, hiding his little smile behind his intertwined hands. You wanted to wash that smug off his face so bad. You took a seat and his scent assaulted you, warm and musky. Almost irresistible. You saw Taehyung from across the room gazing at the both of you with an inscrutable countenance.

  “Is your boyfriend mad that you sat with me today?” He audaciously asked.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “I see. Must be hard, then,” he looked almost sympathetic.

  “What?” Your face contorted into confusion.

  “Nevermind. Tell me how was your Sunday,” he said while opening his notebook and doodling something you couldn’t decipher yet.

  “So we’re friends now?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Shouldn’t you ask me first?” You lifted your brow.

  “You’re bossy today.”

  You were about to give him a proper answer when the teacher barged in, almost breathless. As the class began, focusing on Hess’s Law was your main priority, it really was. But you couldn’t help the tingle crawling up your skin every time he unintentionally bumped his arm into yours, because he was still drawing, keeping his head down since Mrs. Edwards started talking. Still, you couldn’t move. No. Focus. You held onto the edge of your desk with one hand, knuckles white, as you kept the other taking notes on the subject.

  “Relax,” he softly whispered, not taking his eyes away from his notebook. You immediately loosened the tight grip of your left hand.

  “I’m relaxed,” you lied, imitating his tone. He chuckled, lifting his head to show you the most beautiful gummy smile. God, why was he so distractingly handsome? His soft, pale skin, his cat-like eyes. His hands, Lord, you wouldn’t even dwell on his hands. Everything about him was appealing, alluring. His voice, his smell, his gaze. He was devilish.  

  All of a sudden, he ripped off the page he was working on. You tried not to get even more distracted, keeping your eyes on the board, until he touched your arm with his hand. You tensed. “Here, keep this if you want to,” he said, passing the folded paper to you. Curiosity washed over your face and you were about to unfold it, but he stopped you. “I don’t think you should open it now.”

  “Why? Is it, like, an erotic sketch?” You could tell you broke his demeanor a little, he seemed both shocked and amused.

  “I wonder if that kind of thought crosses your brain very often. You’re filthy, Y/N,” he smirked. You almost choked at his tone and his words. He was teasing you, and you refused to go down without a fight.

  “Well, I don’t exactly know you, do I? You could be a perv.” He bit back a chuckle.

  “I’m an honorable man. You’ll see.”

  “Will I, now?”

  “Yes. We’re friends now, aren’t we?”

  “You haven’t convinced me yet.”

  “Challenge accepted.” The two of you stared at each other for a few seconds, then the bell rang. He grabbed his stuff and got up, then tilted his head and asked, “Do you want a ride… friend?”

  “I thought you didn’t ride here today.” Confusion stained his expression before he realized the meaning behind your words. You could see the enlightenment in his face and suddenly banging your head on a wall wasn’t all too bad. He was too cocky for his own good, and now you’ve just made it worse. Way to go.

  “I parked on a different spot,” he responded.

  “Yeah, sure. Uh, anyways… Thanks for the offer, but I’m going home with Tae.”

  “Suit yourself.” Before walking away, he turned around and said, “I’ll save you a seat tomorrow, Y/N.” Before you could elaborate an answer, he was already out the door, and Taehyung was in front of you with that ‘what-the-actual-fuck’ face he made every time he was caught off guard.

  “I’ll explain on the way home,” you sighed.

        ||\\

  You were both in the safety of your bedroom when you told Taehyung everything. From how Ian tried to do God knows what with you, to why he wasn’t able to. Pure luck. It was pure luck that Yoongi happened to be passing by, and it was pure luck that he’d bothered to check what was going on. You told him Jimmy was there. You saw the guilt and rage clawing their way to his chest, and there it was; the reason you were wary to tell him in the first place. Taehyung was explosive, a force of nature when he let himself indulge.

  “I’ll kill him. Why did you hide that from me?” Even though he was trying his best to hold back, you could still tell how furious he truly was. “Answer me, Y/N, I’m not fucking around here,” he didn’t mean for it to sound like a scold, but it still did.

  “I knew you’d be mad,” you retorted.

  “Of course I’d be fucking mad. I don’t think you understand just how mad I am.”

  “I know. Tae, really, nothing serious happened. It’s not worthy getting yourself in trouble for it.”

  “How can you even say that?” he barked.

  “Promise me you’ll let it go,” you asked softly.

  He looked like he’d just heard the worst profanity fall from your lips. “I don-“

  “Promise, Tae,” you were using your serious voice now, the one you used to tell him that no, it was not okay for him to mess with your books back when you were kids. You took it to the heart too often. He stared at you for a moment or two before sighing.

  “Okay,” he grudgingly said. “If that’s what you want.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said after a moment.

  “It’s not your fault. Really, it’s not.”

  “I know. I’m just… sorry,” he let his head rest on your lap. You hummed and stroke his hair for a while. These little moments of utter understanding and peace was one of the reasons he was your best friend. The person you could rely on, always. And he could always rely on you, too.

||\\

   A few weeks passed you by in the blink of an eye. After the infamous events of that night, you and Yoongi grew closer each day. Not that it was always easy, he was infuriating at times; you had to be sharp to keep up with the incessant bickering. But, for what it’s worth, you were able to gather that he was much more than just a little shit, even though he tried to deny it. 

   And you suppose that’s one of the reasons to why your stomach flutters and your heart skips a couple of beats when he gets too close. 

   Probably a month too late, you come across that piece of paper Yoongi had mysteriously given you the first morning you sat together.  You took it in your hands with a gasp and carefully unfolded it, taking a sharp intake of breath at the drawing. It was a pair of eyes – your eyes, perfectly detailed by strong, yet delicate, traces. It was beautiful and left no room for doubts as to whose they were. The cocky bastard was actually pretty talented, you had to give him that. Before you had much time to think about it, your phone rang. You hesitated a moment before picking up, the number was unknown.

  “Hello?”

  “Did you like it?” The voice on the other line was coarse and drawn, and you recognized it immediately.

  “How did you get my number?” You asked while laying yourself on the bed, staring at the ceiling. 

   He had become a constant whenever you were at school or at the library. Nothing beyond that. The call was a pleasent surprise.

  “I have my ways. Will you answer at least one of my questions anytime soon?” There was a hint of a boyish amusement in his tone, and that instantly made you lighter. You liked him better in a good mood.

  “You don’t answer any of mine, so why should I bother?” You shrugged, even though he couldn’t see you.

  “That’s hardly fair. What do you want to know, George?”

  You scoffed at the nickname. “First things first. I want to know how you got my number.”

  “It’s not so hard to get privileged information on the students’ personal data if you’re charming enough. Ms. Parker has a soft spot for me.” Of course. You should’ve seen it coming.

  “You’re shameless,” you scolded half-heartedly, taking a plushie in your hands and squeezing it.

  “It’s one of my many qualities. So, can you answer me now?”

  “Hmm… I might’ve liked it,” you stated, referring to the book he’d recommended. “But you’re already a pretty conceited man, so I should probably spare you the details.”

  He was silent for a while, and you almost mention the drawing you found in your backpack. But then, he’s talking again. “So you think I’m pretty, huh?”

 “Are you… Have you-“ you stammered in astonishment and he chuckled. “Do you actually select the words you want to hear?” you asked and he hummed.

  “Where are you?”

  “Home,” you answered without much thought.

  “I’ll pick you up in ten. Be ready.”

  “Wait, what?” You jolted out of the bed, dropping the plushie on the floor. “You can’t just… decide that. What if I’m busy?”

  “You’re not.”

  “What if I don’t want to?”

  “But you do,” He sounded almost confused. And he was right, you did want to. Somewhere deep inside your brain there was a voice saying that you should’ve objected at least a little bit more. But, against your better judgement, you kept quiet, and soon enough your silence gave you away. “I’m hanging up now. See you soon, George.” You meant to talk back to him, but he’d already ended the call. That, arrogant, insolent, contemptuous jer-

  Before finishing that thought, you remembered you didn’t have much time. So you took a five minute shower, put on a little mascara and went out of the bathroom to find something to wear. There wasn’t enough time to go wild, so you just went for your favorite pair of mom jeans and tucked a burgundy sweater in. After brushing your hair and your teeth, you were ready.

  As soon as you were done, you heard a horn and rushed to the window. There he was, in all his glory, hips resting against his stupidly cool Triumph Rocket. Black boots, black jeans, black long-neck shirt and his usual leather jacket. Wonder what his favorite color might be, you scoffed. He shot you a smirk that made you hold your breath for a moment. It now occurred to you that you had no idea as to where he was taking you. Also, was it a date? A friend thing? Shit. You should’ve said no. You sighed. It was too late now.

  Before running downstairs, you sprayed a little bit of perfume on the nape of your neck and your wrists. Chloé, your signature scent.

  “I’m going out for a bit.”

  She was sitting by the window with a hot beverage on her hands and a book on her lap. Like mother, like daughter.

  “Last time you said that…”

  “I know,” you cut her off gently. “But I have class tomorrow. I promise I won’t be long.”

  “Is your phone charged, young lady?”

  “Yep, it is.”

  “Then call me if anything happens, alright?”

  “Sure thing. Bye, mom,” you gave her a brief peck on the forehead and rushed out the door.

  He was waiting for you at the porch, even more breathtaking now that you could see him up close. His musky scent was stronger and his pale skin was glowing. He was drinking you in with mysteriously piercing eyes.

  “Come,” he said, taking you by the hand.

  “Where are we going anyway?” you asked. As the both of you approached his motorcycle, you were trying your best not to trip.

  “You’ll see.” He took a helmet off a compartment that you didn’t know to exist and cupped your face to hold you still before he put it on you.

  “Is this like a Hitchcock movie? Will you take me just far enough so I can meet my fate by the end of the night?” A hint of dread crossed his features, but he composed himself soon enough.

  “Do you believe in fate, Y/N?” He asked, fixing the straps under your chin, his fingers setting your skin aflame.

  “I don’t know,” you couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but his countenance urged you to provide a proper answer. “Faith is just not my strong suit, I guess,” you mumbled.

  Yoongi pondered about what you said for a moment. “Hold that thought, yeah?” Then he climbed the vehicle. “Hop on,” he started the engine. You were now too aware of the fact that you had never ‘hopped on’ one of those. “Don’t worry, I’m a really good driver,” he tugged his lips upwards.

  “I just… I’ve never done this.”

  “What, ride a motorcycle?” He asked and you nodded. “Trust me. I wouldn’t let anything happen,” he reassured you.

  I know. So you climbed the damn thing and held tight onto his waist, almost comforted by his warmth. He felt the sensitive skin on his back crawl at the contact. Especially between his shoulder blades.

||\\

     You spent the entire ride with your eyes closed. If you had any doubt that Yoongi was a mad man, those god-knows-how-many minutes on the back of his motorcycle had erased them completely. He was going fast. You could feel the wind ricocheting your face relentlessly, and every time he had to make a turn, your stomach fluttered. Sometimes, he turned his head just a little bit, as if checking if you were at least breathing, but you would grit your teeth and snap at him to look ahead, tightening your grip. You could feel him chuckle, his whole upper body being assaulted by small tremors.

  But when you finally arrived at your destination, it was all worth it.

  “Do you like it?” Expectation washed all over his ethereal features.

  “Do I… like it? It’s amazing,” your eyes sparkled with wonder and astonishment at the sight of the ocean. You were at a relatively high spot, like a small cliff, and you could smell the delicious salty breeze that you adored so much. But what truly amazed you, what really took your breath away, was the electric blue lights sparkling all over the wave crests. “Bioluminescence! How did you find this place? Can we go down?” You asked with the biggest smile, a childish excitement seeping through your tone. He giggled, the most magnificent, angelic sound you had ever heard.

  “I’d rather if we didn’t. I don’t want you to meet your fate at those slippery rocks, it wouldn’t be very Hitchcock-y,” he joked. You felt a bit disappointed but chose to let it go. The night, the sea, the sky; it was all too beautiful for you to allow yourself to be petty.

  He took a few steps ahead and sat closer to the edge, wind whisking his hair and making his catlike eyes narrow. You followed suit, sitting in lotus by his side. You both took a minute to appreciate the sight, falling into a comfortable silence, that was soon broken by his husky voice.

  “I come here a lot when I need to remind myself of who I am. Of where I’m from,” he said, still looking at the waters below, eyebrows furrowed. “I never thought of bringing anyone else here before.”

  “So why did you?” Your voice was small, whispered.

  “I don’t know. I guess…” he stopped for a moment. “I possibly just wanted to make sure you were okay. And I don’t know any place else that feels more like home to me. Perhaps I also wanted to share it with you.” Then he turned his gaze to you, eyes reflecting the moonlight. He was divine, bewitching. Especially now, when he seemed to be opening up to you for the first time. You felt your heartbeat speed up at his confession.

  “Thank you,” you said softly, diverting your gaze to the waves. “I can understand why you’re so fond of this place. It’s blissful, feels like heaven.”

   He humms, fixing his gaze on the crashing waves above you.

  “Y/N.” He was surveying your face now, as if trying to read you. Expectant. 

  “Yes?”

  “Do you believe in heaven?” His voice is a whisper and, for a moment, you wonder if you’d heard him correctly. 

  That was probably the last question you’d expected from him, it took you completely by surprise. You inhaled deeply, searching for the right words, but ended up blurting what first came to mind.

  “For all I know, heaven is here. Hell, too. I want to be better, yes, for the people I love. I want to be better for whoever needs me to be, because I know how tough this can get. If there’s an afterlife… at least I’ll know that I tried to be good for the right reasons. So yeah, let’s say I don’t dwell on it. Whatever happens, happens.”

   By the time you finished talking, there was something sparkling deep inside his onyx eyes that you couldn’t recognize.

  “That’s sort of refreshing,” and there it was again. The sheepish gummy smile you adored so much, so utterly genuine and divine you thought you’d die.

  “What about you?”

  “Yes. Heaven, Hell, the whole ordeal. Except for God.”

  “But… How would it be possible for all those things to exist without God?”

  “That is not what I said,” he let out a humorless little chuckle. “Let it suffice that God is… I believe, much too real. Just not how humankind paint him to be. I believe God exists; I just don’t believe in him. Not anymore.” His tone was raw and melancholic. You ached with the need to console him, because he seemed adrift; and that bothered you more than it should.

  Without realizing, your face had gotten closer to his, and suddenly he was all over the place. All you could see, smell, hear, it was all him. He must have known, because then he traced your features lightly with his long, graceful fingers. You thought that was it. That was heaven.  

  You closed your eyes so you could savor every second of it, heartbeat going wild and butterflies assaulting your stomach. He lifted his other hand, and now he was cupping your face gingerly, like you were made of glass. Every touch ignited something foreign and glorious inside of you.

  He shifted, moving closer, and his scent hit you, unyielding, but you didn’t dare to open your eyes. When his lips finally brushed against yours, it was enough to set something off, and your hands made their way to his neck on their own as you let out a shaky breath. You pressed yourself harder and sucked on his bottom lip, before caressing it with the tip of your tongue, earning a groan from him.

   Well, shit.

  He took the hair in the nape your neck in a dainty – yet firm – fistful, asking permission with his tongue to deepen the kiss. There was no denying him, you could never. His taste, God, you could spend eternity tasting every single bit of him. When he licked past your teeth, you moaned, and it was so utterly pleasing, sinful, that he felt compelled to go harder, mercilessly swirling his tongue inside your mouth. There was no room to breathe, the neediness for one another unbending.

  You don’t know how much time you spent in that haze of mind-numbing desire, but neither of you dared to stop. Until your phone rang.

  You jerked away, pupils blown wide from the intensity of the moment, skin flushed. You were both panting, eyes trained on each other, searching, scrutinizing, waiting for a reaction. His reddened, glistening lips were parted slightly and he seemed displeased to cut the moment short. Even so, he managed to talk.

  “You should probably get that,” he gusted, trying to catch his breath.  You couldn’t find it in yourself to do anything but nod.

  You took the device out of your back pocket and checked the ID caller, brows furrowing. He mirrored your expression.

  “Who is it?”

  “It’s a girl from school. We have history class together. That’s… odd,” you said. You and Sarah have never had a real conversation, one that didn’t involve Napoleon or Julien Sorel. You just had her number saved because of a paper you had to do together a while ago. “Hello?”

  “Y/N? Thank God,” she sounded truly relieved. “Look, I’m sorry to bother you but… We’re at the school’s gym and-“ she let out a loud gasp, and only then you noticed the noise in the background, an uproar of voices and… Did you did hear a punch?

  “Sarah? What is it?”

  “Tae’s here. Y/N, you should come…”

  Your blood ran cold.

  “What? Is he okay? Sarah, tell me what’s going on. Now,” you blurted, already standing, missing the way Yoongi’s face contorted in confusion and concern.

  “We tried to stop them, we really did, I-“

  “Sarah,” you grunted.

  “Okay, yeah. Him and Ian are at each other’s throats right now, it’s pretty bad. Y/N, I don’t think it’ll be long before someone calls the cops. I just thought I’d let you know, ‘cause-“

  “I’ll be there in a minute,” you cut her off, and then hang up.

  You were a lot of things at that moment, but mostly worried and angry. You had told him not to, you had told him to let it go, and he went behind your back. You heart rate was through the roof, adrenaline rushing through your veins. But this time, it wasn’t out of passion.

  “Y/N,” Yoongi had a wary look on his face. “Tell me.”

  “Can you take me back? Tae’s in trouble.”

  ||\\

  He hadn’t meant to. He really hadn’t meant to break his promise, but he knew it was bound to be broken the minute he made it. The idea of someone else touching you was torturous enough, but to think of them doing it without your consent actually drove him crazy with rage. Those unbidden images of you scared, asking that piece of shit to stop, only for him to hold you tighter, closer, wrapping his filthy hands around you… it wouldn’t stop coming to him, even though he’d tried his hardest to restrain them. It had haunted him ever since you told him. He felt sick. He hated himself for not being there for you, with you. Like the disgraceful best friend he was, he’d canceled movie night to get wasted. Ugly feelings, even the ones he didn’t care to admit, pierced their sharp claws at his chest. Guilt, exasperation, jealously.

  He’d tried to suppress the bitterness from watching you with the new guy, he tried to be just glad that he was there and hold out against it, because if he wasn’t… The point is: he really tried. But the way you looked at him made Taehyung’s stomach sink. He’d never seen it before, and he craved it like a man in the desert did a single drop of water. He wanted to be on the receiving end of that gaze more than anything.

  He’d go mad if he stayed inside, so he went out for a jog. Your mother had told him you weren’t home, and he figured you’d be at the coffee shop near school. What a big surprise it was when he found Ian next to a blue SUV that was parked near the gymnasium. He choked out a chuckle; it was just too tempting. Rage boiled trough his veins, and at that moment he knew he couldn’t hold back. He couldn’t not break that scumbag in half, even if that meant he’d be going against your wishes.

  So he did. Every punch, given or taken, satisfied him little by little. Because he also deserved to be punished, he thought.

 ||\\

    “What was that shit that you pulled? After I explicitly told you to stay out of it! Why now?”

  Taehyung had a bloody nose, a deep cut just above his eyebrow and some pretty ugly purple spots all over his upper body, staining his previously pristine skin. When you and Yoongi had arrived at school, you discovered he’d been taken. By a police officer, nonetheless.

  You’d been so mad. But now that he was in front of you, all screwed up in torn clothes, the speech you had prepared escaped your mind. You just couldn’t understand his impulsiveness, and the fact that he was in a tiny, smelly cell because of you was infuriating.

  “We both knew it was bound to happen eventually, so I figured rather sooner than later,” he answered nonchalantly.

  “Taehyung,” you said through gritted teeth

  “What, Y/N?!” He snapped. “You wanted me to let him get away with it?”

  “Yes! Yes, I literally told you that that’s what I wanted!”

  “Well, too bad,” he darkly said. He knew he was in the wrong here. But he was just too riled up to think straight.

  “Okay,” you said, taking a sharp intake of breath while running your fingers through your hair, “Okay, let’s be practical about this. Your dad is coming, right? We can talk about it at home.”

  “Fine,” he said, avoiding your eyes.

  “Fine,” you, too, knew how to be petty. “I’ve got to go outside for a minute. Behave,” your gaze flashed to an officer for a second, but quickly made its way back to Taehyung. When you realized he wouldn’t give you an answer, you just sighed and carried yourself out the door.

  As soon as you stepped out of the threshold, you saw Yoongi leaning on his motorcycle, arms crossed and head hanging from his shoulders. You didn’t know what tonight had meant. You wanted to at least try to figure out if he felt the same as you did, but you had bigger problems. And to be honest, you’d rather sleep on it. It was all too intense and hazy.

  “Hey,” you said, walking slowly towards him. He lifted his head and offered a tiny smile.

  “Your boyfriend really hates my guts, doesn’t he?”

  “He’s not-“ you cut yourself off when you realized he was just messing with you again. Of course he is, he stuck his tongue down your throat just an hour ago. “Anyways. I guess Tae will be out in a couple of hours, but I have to stay here and wait for Mr. Kim. Thank you for… tonight.”

  He nodded. “No problem, George. I’ll call y-“

  Suddenly, his eyebrows knitted together and his whole body tensed as he straightened himself. If you ever told anyone about this, you’d probably be admitted in a mental facility. But you swore that, for an instant, his eyes changed colors, going from pitch black to a deep violet. It happened in a heartbeat, and then he wasn’t looking at you anymore, but at something past your shoulder. You felt a chill run down your spine as you turned around to see what caught his attention.

  A tall, broad-shouldered man was walking towards you. As his lean figure got closer, the tension grew almost palpable, and you could see from afar he had a small smile plastered on his plump lips. But it wasn’t comforting at all. Instead, it was vile, almost sadistic. Your head snapped to Yoongi again, and you saw how he didn’t move a muscle, fists closed tight and jaw clenched. That made you panic a little.

  “Yoongi, what-“

  “Y/N, go inside,” his voice was hoarse and restrained, like he hadn’t talked in weeks.

  No, you wanted to say. That man, whoever he was, screamed bad news. He walked like a predator, and you felt like his prey. Though your self-preservation instincts were going wild with every step he took, something stronger made you want to stay. You knew he wasn’t here for you, but for him. And that sparked a need to protect him that you didn’t know to exist, nor where it came from. However, you just kept quiet and waited for the man to catch up, not missing the murderous aura emitted from Yoongi.

  At last, he stood in front of you, reddish hair and twisted smirk still on his face. You could see him clearly now, and he was beautiful. The kind of beauty you’ve only seen once.

  “Has anyone actually pressed charges this time, little brother?” His voice was deceivingly soft.

   Brother?

  “How did you find me?” Yoongi asked with an icy voice that almost made you shudder.

  “Is that how you greet your elders? Father would not be pleased.”

  “Well, you’re one to talk, aren’t you?”

  “People are still hung up on that, I see,” the man chuckled. “Yoongi-ah,” he said, his feet taking him closer at a slower pace. Yoongi kept his ground, knuckles white from his balled-up fists, while you instinctively took a step back. That’s when they both seemed to acknowledge your presence. Yoongi’s eyes bulged slightly, his pale skin becoming ever paler, while the other wore an unreadable expression on his face.

  “I told you to go inside,” he almost growled, taking your wrist in an iron grip and pulling you to stand behind his back. You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand any of it. Why did he seem so threatened by his own blood? The man was scary, sure, but was he actually dangerous? Your head was spinning, so you held onto his jacket to keep yourself vertical.

  “Were you not planning on introducing me to your friend, baby brother? That’s just rude, you know how much I love meeting new people.”

  “I’d advise you to be careful now, Jin.” The threat in Yoongi’s low voice was noticeable even to you, but Jin didn’t seem to mind. On the contrary, he relished on it. His little brother didn’t get all protective over just anyone, and the fact that he didn’t want the eldest to know about you pointed straight to a weak spot. One which he intended to take full advantage of.

  “Easy, Prince, no need to get riled up,” Jin chuckled again, lifting both hands in a sign of peace. “What do you take me for?”

  “Neither of us can deny your nature, can we, brother? It’s the reason why we’re here in the first place.”

  “It’s true. Have you told her your name yet? Since you appear very comfortable sharing such details in front of her.”

  “What are you doing here? I thought I had made myself clear the last time we saw each other,” Yoongi changed the subject, hoping you wouldn’t pay much attention to his question.

  Jin’s face turned serious for the first time before he spoke. “They approached me, Yoongi-ah. It would seem that they need their Flam-“

  “Quit it!” Yonngi growled. “Hold your tongue, I don’t want to hear any of it. You need to go.”

  “Not until I have delivered my message.” The well-proportioned man stood his ground.

  Yoongi took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He could not have this kind of conversation in front of you – in front of anyone, for that matter. Jin was breaking the rules; an old habit of his. “Then I need you to wait for me at home. I suppose you already know where I live, don’t you? I’ll meet you there soon.”

  “Alright then. Y/N, it was splendid meeting you. I do hope I get to see you again soon.”

  Yoongi scowled as he watched Jin turn on his heels and disappear in the night. For all he knew, Jin would never get this close to you ever again. He was caught off guard today. He then turned around, black orbs scrutinizing you for a reaction.    

  There were many things going through your mind at that exact moment. Too many questions, he could tell. You looked at him in a grimace of confusion and horror.

  “How did he know my name?” That was the first thing that popped into your mind. You hadn’t said your name, neither did Yoongi. “And who’s ‘they’? And did he really just call you prince? Is that a pet name or something?” You blurted out, sensing you wouldn’t have too much time to elaborate the questions the way you wanted to.

  He looked into your eyes, face contorted in what you could only describe as a desperate hesitation, brows furrowed and lips pressed into a fine line. He was pondering his options. You knew that because, when he made up his mind, you could clearly see the taint of resolution.

  “I can’t answer your questions,” he muttered.

  “Why not?”

  “I’m really sorry, Y/N. Please, just forget about this. All of it.”

  “What are you talking about?” you were on the brink of losing it at this point. First Taehyung, and now this. He wasn’t making any sense. But his eyes spoke to you in ways he couldn’t. Only then, you understood. “No,” you said with a resolution of your own. “What the fuck is wrong with you? Listen, it’s okay if you don’t want to tell me right away, whatever it is, just don-“

  “Y/N.”

  “Yes?!”

  “Close your eyes.”

  “Why?”

  “Listen to me just this once,” he groaned, stepping into your personal space. He twisted your hair in one hand, holding your face securely to his. When he rested his forehead on yours, your eyes gave into his wishes, closing on their own. “I’ll be gone for a little while, George,” your breath hitched, but you didn’t interrupt him. He gave you a light peck on the mouth, lips soft and moist, breath hot on your face. “I have to settle some things straight. Be good for me while I’m gone, yeah? Don’t do anything stupid,” he frowned.

  “Will you come back?” your voice almost cracked, ‘cause you weren’t so sure of his answer. You felt foolish. You’ve only known him for a short period of time, after all. But the intensity of your feelings, though you couldn’t discern them clearly yet, scared you.

  This felt horribly like goodbye – it was, at least for now – and you hated it.

  “Do you want me to?”

  “Yes,” you answered straight away.

  “Alright,” he nodded. “Then I will.”

  You didn’t dare open your eyes when he stepped away from you after one last chaste peck on your lips, nor when you heard him start the engine of his Triumph. But when you felt a warm hand on your shoulder, you jolted slightly and your eyes fluttered open.  

  “Let’s get you inside, kid” Mr. Kim said softly, brushing away a lonesome tear from your cheek. “Then you can help me scold my boy for making us come all the way to the police station on a school day, how does that sound?” he tried to uplift your spirit, and you offered him a half-hearted smile.

   ||\\

                                                       “Which way I fly is hell; myself am hell;

And in the lowest deep a lower deep

Still threatening to devour me opens wide,

To which the hell I suffer seems a heaven.

Oh then at last relent: is there no place

Left for repentance, none for pardon left?”

     It’d been four weeks since the last time you saw him. A whole month since he’d disappeared completely. At first, you waited anxiously for him to reappear out of nowhere. For him to just slide into the classroom, like he’d done the first time. But as time passed by and the third week came, you grew worried. He didn’t get specific about how much time it would take for him to do whatever it was, but you imagined it would be one, maybe two weeks. But now, a month later, you were beginning to wonder if he’d even come back at all. If something had happened, if he was okay…

  No. He promised.

  You’d rather not dwell on the possibility of something going wrong – hell, you didn’t even know what he was doing or what was that strange conversation he had with his deviant brother in front of the police station. You had a few theories, though. Not that you’d ever utter them out loud.

  Number one: mafia. Maybe not The Godfather sort of thing, since that seemed pretty outdated, but rather… Scarface, perhaps? So you had come up with the idea of Jin being a druglord; nothing more, nothing less. It made sense, to be honest.

  Number two: well, number two wasn’t exactly clear on your mind, but had something to do with super rich parents and an insane heritage. He could be the prince of an empire, right? You didn’t know anything about his family, except that his brother was blood-curdling.

  You just wished to keep your head in the right place until he explained the situation to you. If he explained, that is. Sighing, you tried to contain your derailed thoughts and get back to the real world, where Taehyung needed you to pay attention to Mamma Mia! for the nth time.

  “Alright, that’s it. You didn’t even sing along during S.O.S and that’s where I draw the line,” he said, taking the remote from your hand and pausing the movie. It was a cozy night and you were both plopped on the couch wearing socks and sweatpants.

  “When have I ever sang along during S.O.S, Tae?”

  “I remember it vividly, we were eleven. But that’s not the point,” he retorted. You bit your lip and kept your eyes trained on the frozen screen of the TV, already sensing where this was going. “You’ve been like this for a while now.”

  “Like what?” you pushed, trying to feign innocence. You were not in the mood for this right now. You just wanted to stare unseeingly at the TV and have some private time with your own thoughts until the movie was over.

  He sighed. “Look, I can only guess what’s going on,” he scowled, but tried to compose his features into a serene mask before speaking again. “But I need you to not be in your own head for a minute.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t apologize. I want to help,” he said, taking your hand in his. The touch was warm and familiar.

  “I know, Marzipan,” another sigh. You took your hand from his carefully and got up. “I’m going to the store, you want something?”

  “What, now? Y/N-“

  “I just-, I need coffee and snacks if we’re pulling this off. If you want me to keep my eyes opened during Moulin Rouge, that is,” you pointed out matter-of-factly

  Taehyung shifted in his seat, face contorted in confusion, wariness and a hint of hurt. “Do you want me to go with you? It’s late.”

  “No, it’s fine. You can stay and plan ahead, I’m sure we’re not stopping at the next one.”

  He watched you silently while you fumbled for your keys. When you found them, he muttered: “Don’t be too long.”

  “I won’t.”

  As soon as you crossed the threshold, the cold air of the night hit your skin, making you shiver slightly. You closed the door and hid your hands in the pockets of your sweater, bringing it closer to your body in a poor attempt to keep the warmth from escaping.

  Walking towards the convenience store located a couple of blocks from your house, you let yourself get lost in headspace again. You knew you weren’t being fair to Taehyung. As much as you wanted to talk about this situation with him, you couldn’t. It felt like betraying someone who hadn’t even put their trust in you to begin with. Yes, it was unfair, and maybe you were being a shitty friend every time he tried to have a serious conversation about the subject and you brushed him off with an excuse, like getting coffee in the middle of the night.

  You sighed, not really willing to wallow in guilt tonight, and just tried to focus on your immediate task. One step after the other, then one more, and you could already see the lights of a tiny single shop, the only one opened this late at night. It belonged to Mr. Newton, a sweet old baker who treated you kindly every time he was filling up for his cashier.

  You entered the store and heard the little bell announce your arrival. Much to your surprise, Mr. Newton was working there that night. As he saw your expression of detachment, he frowned. So you tried to arrange your features in a polite smile before speaking.

  “Hello, Mr. Newton.”

  “Y/N, child, why are you wandering alone when it’s already this late?” he asked softly, though clearly concerned for your safety.

  “Don’t worry, sir,” you answered, walking towards the cooler where they kept the iced coffee and taking two in one hand, as you went for the chips next. “Tae and I needed a little snack. Movie night.”

  He nodded and you placed the items on the counter for him to scan.

  “Well, then. Tell that kid to come by whenever he can. My wife wants to send some essential oils for Mr. Kim’s aromatherapy sessions,” just as he’d said it, he got a bit closer to you, as if the next words to come out of his mouth were a secret. “Truth is, she misses him. The boy is the only one who can stand her cooking.”

  Despite being moody, you chuckled wholeheartedly. No one could be indifferent to Taehyung’s charms, it seemed.

  “Yes, sir, I’ll tell him.”

  As you went through your wallet to pay the old man, you heard the little bell once again. Mr. Newton greeted the new client, but you were too engrossed in finding the right bills to snap your head in the newcomer’s direction. However, the inquisitive sound that left the old man caused you to steal a glimpse, catching auburn hair and broad shoulders in their wake. You stood still for a moment, trying to recall why those locks seemed so familiar. Until it hit you.

  “Jin?” you breathed, not loud enough for anyone in the store to actually hear you. Just as you muttered his name, he closed the door and turned left, disappearing from your sight. You gasped. “Keep the change, Mr. Newton!” you said – audibly, this time – leaving a ten dollar bill on the counter and grabbing your stuff as gracefully as you could muster, rushing to the door like your life depended on it.

  “No running in the store, kid!” he tried to scold you, but could already feel the cool breeze as you opened the door and looked around, expecting to find his brother. Only this time around you weren’t scared, no. You wanted answers, heart beating fast at the possibility of hearing from Yoongi, maybe even seeing him… Okay, no, not the time for this, first things first.

  When you realized he was nowhere to be found, you ran. Left. He went left. You passed by a few houses and almost tripped on a stray cat, turning your head to the side to check on it and apologizing profusely as you picked up your pace again. A few blocks later, you were already out of breath. You came to a halt and put both hands on your knees, gasping and feeling your lungs burn.

  Trying to ease your labored breathing, you realized that you were probably going crazy. A halfhearted chuckle escaped your parted lips. You were disappointed, even if actually meeting the redhead meant trouble. Trying not to let frustration and melancholy get the best of you, you decided to just let it go and head back home. Even if it was Jin, he probably wouldn’t tell you anything anyway.

 ||\\

    The snow under your feet was slippery as you got out of the library, leather backpack and navy-blue beanie on. You held a large cappuccino on one hand, careful not to spill it as you dodged passers-by and umbrellas every now and then. The streets were a little crowded that afternoon, and you were dying to get home and relish on Mrs. D’Angelis’ famous chicken noodle soup. Maybe she’d even grant you a warm glass of wine if you asked properly. You tried to occupy your mind with ordinary, day-to-day thoughts, trying to ignore the flutter on the pit pf your stomach.

  During that entire week, you were constantly under the impression that something was off. When you were going to school with Taehyung, or grocery shopping for your mother, there was always that tingling feeling on the nape of your neck that told you that someone was watching. Then you’d turn around and nothing. No one was ever there. The uneasiness was uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel endangered, just really jittery. And your motto was: no better medicine for anxiety than tons of caffeine.

  “Mom, I’m home!” you crooned, taking your coat off and discarding the empty thermal cup.

  “In the kitchen, honey!”

  The smell was splendid. You took a deep breath, already yearning for the hot meal, and kissed your mother on the cheek while she stirred… something.

  “Uh, smells nice,” you praised, making your way to the fridge for a glass of water. “I’m shocked Tae hasn’t come knocking on our door yet. Maybe his flair is broken because of the flu.”

  “Is Taehyungie sick, honey? Why didn’t you tell me?” she almost whined.

  “It’s nothing, just a bit of phlegm. But I’ll take some of these,” you pointed to the pots, “for him and his dad later.”

  “You really should. Now go upstairs and change before dinner.”

  You mumbled a response and climbed the stairs to put on some good old band t-shirt and sweatpants. You didn’t notice the broad-shouldered frame behind the door, and as soon as you closed it behind you, you felt a cold hand covering your mouth, while the other held you in place by the waist. Your whole body tensed, eyes bulged and breath hitched. Fuck. You were prepared to let out a loud scream, but his whispered voice stopped you.

  “It’s me, it’s me,” he shushed you. As a reflex, your muscles relaxed. “Gonna take my hand off your mouth now, George,” he informed, slowly moving his hand from your face.

  Of course it was him. His smell was all over the place, his touch still left little electric jolts on your skin. You snapped your head and turned around to face him. You realized your memories could never do him justice. He was so heartbreakingly handsome, you could cry. Pale skin, shiny disheveled raven hair. You noticed the circles under his eyes were darker and he seemed exhausted. Regardless, when your eyes fell on his lips, your body reacted before your mind could.

  Your hands made their way to the nape of his neck, caressing and gently pulling his hair. At the same time, you clasped your lips together on a desperate kiss. His surprise didn’t stop him from matching your frenzy, grunting as he sucked your upper lip and asked permission with his tongue, one that you promptly granted. Henceforth, your tongues performed an erotic, lewd dance as they fought for dominance, swirling and exploring each other’s mouths.

  Only when the back of your knees touched the bed did you realize he was moving you towards it. He broke the kiss for a moment to mercilessly throw you on the soft duvet, and you let out a surprised moan when he immediately covered your body with his, mouth returning to yours. A primal need surged from within you when you felt one of his hands roaming at your side lustfully, gabbing tight on your ribcage, your waist, your hip. He hoisted your leg and you hooked it around him, holding back a loud moan when he pressed his erection to your groin. You could feel your panties drenching from the sudden contact, a new wave of desire making your core ache.

  “Y/N-“ he tried to speak through heavy breathing, his lips never leaving yours long enough for him to finish a sentence. “Baby,” he groaned, obviously trying to say something, but you weren’t ready yet. You rocked your hips against him, earning another lecherous noise from his rosy lips as he closed his eyes shut.

  You used that moment of weakness to knock him to his side, climbing on top of him as you clamped your thighs harder on his hips. His eyes went dark at the sight, a devilish smirk tainting his beautiful features. You didn’t give him time to say anything, taking his lips on another bruising kiss. His hands on your ass, squeezing and groping, and you felt him throb inside his pants. You moaned, a gush of wetness coming out as you clenched around nothing. You couldn’t form coherent thoughts anymore, pressing yourself harder against his bulge as you rolled your hips, searching blindly and desperately for a sweet release that was already so close…

  “Hold it, baby.” His voice was stern, and he pinned both your wrists on your back, his hands seeming incredibly big when closed around them. He was sitting now, hot, labored breath hitting your lips, heightening your senses and sending shivers down your spine. You crumbled under his dominant demeanor, feeling an inconceivable need to obey, and instantly stood still. It surprised him as much as it did you, and you saw a smug grin plaster itself on his face. “That’s it. Be good for me so I don’t lose my mind.”

  You let out a breath you didn’t know to be holding and weakly nodded, mind still clouded with want. He let go of your wrists and gently pecked your lips, sitting you down on the bed instead of his lap. Father knows he would be physically uncapable of having a proper train of thought if he didn’t.

  “So… I guess we have a lot to discuss first, don’t we?” his smile was sheepish now, hands going through his hair in a nervous tick.

  “Yes,” you breathed out. “What happened? I was so worried, Yoongi, you have no idea. I didn’t even know where you were or what the hell you were up to, I-“ you took a moment in order to stabilize your voice. You knew you were affected by his sudden absence, you just didn’t know how much until now that he was actually in front of you. “I don’t even know what the worst case scenario could be, but I bet my thoughts came pretty close,” you chuckled humorlessly.

  “I’m sorry, I never meant to worry you. If I knew I’d be gone for that long, I would’ve told you before I left. I missed you so much,” he confessed, voice lower than before, and rested his forehead on your own.

  “Tell me. Please, I need to know,” your brows furrowed.

  “I met my brothers,” he paused, waiting for a reaction that never came. It’s not that you were not surprised by the information that he had other siblings, you just wanted him to finish it before you spoke. “Jin aside, I spent… years apart from my family. You could say that we didn’t leave things on the best of terms when I left father’s, so it was a surprise for me when I learned that they wanted to talk. Notwithstanding that it’s out of need, not love.” His heavenly features contorted in hurt and resentment, and you felt you own heart clench. You gave him an eskimo kiss as a sign of reassurance and he smiled timidly. “They offered to take me back. It’s… certainly a grand gesture for the likes of us,” he shook his head slightly and knitted his brows.

  “Isn’t that a good thing? Don’t you miss them?” you didn’t know why your voice was so small.

  “Not anymore, no.” His gaze was intense and made your heart beat impossibly faster. “I do miss them. They used to be my whole existence, the reason for every breath of mine. But now… now everything’s changed.”

  “What’s changed?”

  “You.”

  Your breath hitched. If it was anyone else, if it was any other situation, you’d laugh at the cheesy line. But this was him, and that, too, changed everything. That one word was enough to unleash butterflies in your stomach, enough of them to knock you breathless. The truth behind his statement carried a heavy meaning, one that you yearned for and that made you giddy. His onyx orbs were wary, and you wondered if he was blind to the utter relief plastered on your face. It was selfish, but you couldn’t help it. Not when it came to him.

  “H-How come?”

  He chuckled. “Don’t get bashful on me now, George, I’m pretty sure you understand.”

  You tried to scowl, but the grin was insistent on your lips. “Alright, let’s put a pin on that. You still haven’t told me everything. What did your brothers want?”

  “Y/N, there are certain things about me and my family that I cannot tell you. It wouldn’t be safe.”

  “You don’t trust me?” you were mainly curious, but a hint of hurt could be heard, too.

  “That’s not it. It just wouldn’t be safe for you.”

  “Is your family involved in something… illegal? Is that why?”

  “Not illegal, no,” he chuckled.

  “Then I don’t understand.”

  “I know. But please, George, don’t be stubborn about this one. All I’m asking for is a leap of faith,” his eyes were pleading as they bore into yours. Was he aware that he could probably convince you that the sky was neon green if he looked at you like that?

  “It’s a big leap,” you mumbled.

  “I know. Just trust that I have good reasons,” he smiled softly.

  You sighed. “Fine, Romeo, keep your secrets. Just tell me if you get too deep into whatever it is that the Min’s are hiding. I care about your safety just as much as you care about mine.” You forced the heat back, secretly hoping that it did not reach your face in time for you to actually blush.

  “Doubt it,” he grinned. “Dinner is ready, Mrs. D’Angelis will be coming for you soon. I should get going.”

  Your face paled as you rushed to the wardrobe, retrieving some clean clothes from your drawer. “Wait,” you stopped on your tracks in the middle of the room, glaring at Yoongi through narrowed eyes. “How do you know that?”

  “I have my ways,” he shrugged, then tugged his lips upwards on a daring smirk. “It’s a secret.”

  “If you keep giving me clues I might just figure it out. Go on.”

  He chuckled and stood up from the bed, walking languidly in your direction. He touched your nose with the tip of his index finger, tracing it’s way all up to your forehead, then coming down to your jaw, where he grabbed firmly. His lips were smooth and slightly damped as they softly touched yours in a chaste kiss. A ragged sigh of pure bliss escaped you, and you tried to fight the haziness.

  “Bye, George,” he was still lingering when he spoke. As he broke the contact and turned to the window, you woke up from the trance.

  “Stay,” you breathed out. He looked at you with a hint of confusion. “I-I mean, you can stay if you want. I can bring you some of mom’s soup and we can eat it here. But you don’t have to, if you’re bus-“

  “Okay,” he deadpanned.

  “Okay. Yeah, uhm… I’ll go change in the bathroom, you can make yourself comfortable.”

  “Already am,” he said as he threw himself on the bed, bouncing a little. His countenance was amused and he eyed you intently, toying with the elephant plushie.

  “Of course you are,” you snorted, carrying yourself to the bathroom.

  That night, you both relished on your mother’s cooking while watching some old movie about Cole Porter on your laptop. You were sure that it wasn’t his cup of tea, but he payed attention to it nonetheless. After you were done, you offered to take the dishes downstairs, since your mother would probably have a stroke if she knew there was a boy in your room. You stopped by Taehyung’s to check on him and offer his favorite hot meal, but it didn’t take more than five minutes. You were on a hurry, and he knew better than to question it.

  Back upstairs, you and Yoongi curled up under the covers and tried to find something interesting enough to watch for what seemed to be ages, your head resting on his chest and his hands holding you securely by the waist. It wasn’t long until you fell asleep, and only then did he leave, pecking your forehead gently before jumping out the window.

  ||\\

  “Get in.”

  “No,” you tried to end the discussion then and there. As expected, you failed.

  “Y/N, you can’t go back on pinky promise. You should’ve thought this through.” His goal was to sound stern, but in reality you could see the hint of a pout on his lips. “It’s my birthday.” Okay, there it was. That was definitely a pout.

  “No,” you closed your eyes shut and facepalmed – for good measure. “Don’t give me those eyes, I’m not looking,” the sound was muffled by your hands.

  He wrapped his incredibly large fingers around your wrists and whined: “Come on, we’re already here. What’s the worst that could happen?”

  “Why on earth would you say that?” you instantly took your hands from your face and shot him a glare. He had the nerve to chuckle.

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this alone.”

  “You can’t possibly expect me to do this at all,” you retorted, kicking the snow piled up near the curb, shunning away from his puppy dog eyes.

  “You promised you would! I’ll do it, Marzipan. If you win this round, I’ll get a tattoo with you as a birthday present,” his voice was high pitched.

  You snorted. “I was out of it, mental faculties completely fried. Drunk on power and merlot. Plus, I’m pretty sure you cheated, you could never beat me at Mario Kart,” you grumbled.

  “I did not cheat,” he was outraged. “I’m a lawful man, I abide by the rules, and they are clear: a bet is a bet.”

  You honestly have no idea why you let him talk you into this. Perhaps because you’ve been feeling guilty lately, and therefore didn’t have the heart to turn him down when he broke into your room to collect his victory this morning. It’s a good present, right? To get tattoos with your best friend? He had been trying to convince you since three birthdays ago. You hoped it would be enough to ease a bit of the weight on your chest.

  Truth is, you had been spending too much time with Yoongi these past few weeks. After what happened when he showed his face again, it became routine that he came by almost every night when your mom fell asleep. You’d talk, watch movies, kiss… But what you enjoyed the most were those moments where you curled up in his embrace, face buried in the crook of his neck, and neither of you would say a word. You’ve always appreciated peaceful silence, but those moments were so much more. You felt truly connected to him, in a way you’d never felt with anyone else. Like you were both pieces of the same puzzle, cheesy lines aside.

  Or when he would be the one to rest his head on your chest, blinking lazily as you twisted his silky, raven locks in your fingers. Perhaps those were truly your favorites, as you felt the incontrollable urge – need – to be protective of him, to never let anything disturb his serene, almost childlike countenance, so bare before you in the night’s veil. Before the sun came up and brought back the little wrinkle between his eyebrows.

  During the day, you often returned to his safe haven – one that ultimately became yours, too. The waves breaking against the rocks, the salty breeze, the deep blue of the ocean, you had gotten acquainted to it all in a heartbeat. On occasion, you’d bring warm, fuzzy blankets, hot cocoa and books, spending an entire afternoon on your own personal eden.

  You never meant for any of it to get in the way of your friendship with Taehyung, but counterbalancing proved to be harder than you first thought. Although you may have gotten too caught up, inevitably distancing yourself a bit, you were now eager to make it up to him. He was like family, after all. So here you were.

  “Fine, have it your way. But I’m telling mom that you put me up to this,” you threatened. The snow under your boots making a crunchy noise while you crossed the street to get to the tattoo parlor.

  “She won’t believe you. I’m a saint. I’m her Taehyungie.” He was beaming.

  As soon as you got in, you saw a man sitting behind the counter. He was buff, and you’d bet that pretty much his whole body was covered in piercings and tattoos – mostly about dragons and snakes. Looks aside, his voice was warm and welcoming when he greeted you.

  “Welcome, kids. My name is Eli, how may I help you today?”

  All the drawings and pictures on the walls seemed to have detained Taehyung’s attention, so you plastered a polite smile on your face before answering.

  “Hi. My friend over here came to get a tattoo,” you pointed at the boy beside you and he scowled.

  “We both did,” he smiled at the receptionist.

  “Alright. You have to sign a couple of forms before we get into details. You’re both legal, right?” the receptionist asked and you nodded. “Peach. Just a second,” he turned his attention to the computer in front of him, taking a couple of papers from the printer soon after. He handled you each a consent form. Before you signed yours, you exchanged a look with Taehyung, almost having a whole conversation – bickering – with him through knowing looks.

  “Here you go,” Taehyung handed the papers to Eli.

  “Cool. Do you guys have something in mind? We have a few drafts you can check out. But if you already know what you want, Hyunjin can draw it when you get inside. Don’t worry, he’s good.”

  “I have something in mind,” Taehyung offered a bright boxy smile. “I guess I’ll just explain it to him, then.”

  “Great,” Eli turned his eyes to you, realizing that you definitely had not made up your mind just yet. “If that’s the case, I’ll let him know that you’re going in,” he said to Taehyung, who nodded in response. When the buffy man went to the back, he glared at you through narrowed eyes.

  “I’ll come back with permanent ink on my skin. You better not chicken out by the time I’m done,” he threatened.

  “Hope you don’t regret it within the year,” you taunted.

  “I won’t,” he snorted.

  Eli returned a second later, excusing himself to lead Taehyung to the tattoo artist. In the meantime, you picked a binder that was resting on top of the counter to take a look at the drawings he’d mentioned, hoping to find something you’d actually like – or at least an inspiration. Most of them were very intricate, and although they were beautiful, you wanted something simple. Less is more when you’re tainting your skin for life because of a bet.

  You were turning the pages with such disinterest that you almost missed it. It seemed unfinished, just a sketch, and you couldn’t quite pinpoint the reason as to why it caught your attention in the first place. It was a dragon intertwined in a circle, it’s countenance exuding fierceness and strength. Inside the circle, however, was just an unembellished arrangement of lines, one that was strangely familiar and alluring. 9-7-1-12-6, if you think about a clock.

  “Oh, I see you’ve found Lee’s work. What do you think?” Eli pulled you out of your headspace.

  “Uhm… Yeah, he’s great. His drawings are pretty authentic.”

  “Uh huh, he’s been working on those for a while now. So, do you have any idea what you’re gonna get yet?”

  “Not really. I mean, I liked this one,” you pointed to the page you were previously analyzing. “Do you know if it means anything in particular?”

  “Yes! Actually, it does, but I can’t really remember what. I think it’s a sigil, though. You know, one of those thingies people believe to be magical.”

  “Mhm.” You really didn’t know why you felt the need to purge those next words, but you were saying them before you could stop yourself. “This is it.”

  “What? You’re gonna tattoo that?” Without even knowing what it means?

  “Yes. I liked the dragon.”

  ||\\

  His lips were soft against your collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps on their wake when he moved them lazily to your jawline, wet little kisses making you squirm and sigh. His index finger was tracing patterns on your bare thigh, caressing and examining as if he’d never done it before, as if you were a made of glass. The sun had graced you with its appearance for the first time in weeks, and you wanted to enjoy the good weather as much as possible, so you had convinced Yoongi to lay on the grass by your side.

  “Tired of Miss Brontë already, love?” his velvety voice evinced his amusement.

  “Can’t read. You’re distracting me.”

  He chuckled lightly, delivering small puffs of air on the crook of your neck, and raised his head just enough to look at you, blocking the sunlight and making it possible for you open your eyes. Before he’d made his mission to disturb your concentration, you were reading for him, like people do with kids before they go to bed. It became a thing after the first time you did it, and now he picked a different book every week or so. When you’d asked about it, he just shrugged and declared that ‘It’s just nice. I like hearing you.’ This week, it was Wuthering Heights.

  “Continue, please,” he adjured, laying his head on your chest as a demonstration of good will. You grabbed the book you’d previously set aside and opened it, leaving one hand free to play with his locks.

  “That, however, which you may suppose the most potent to arrest my imagination, is actually the least, for what is not connected with her to me? and what does not recall her? I cannot look down to this floor, but her features are shaped on the flags. In every cloud, in every tree—filling the air at night, and caught by glimpses in every object by day, I am surrounded with her image. The most ordinary faces of men and women—my own features—mock me with a resemblance. The entire world is a dreadful collection of memoranda that she did exist, and that I have lost her.”

  His eyes were no longer closed, he was gazing at you.

  “Do you pity him?” he suddenly asked.

  “Heathcliff? I don’t.”

  He nodded slowly. “So, you think there’s no redemption, then?”

  “Not for him. He lived and died as an antagonist. Some might think his cruelty is just an expression of his frustrated love for Catherine, or that he conceals at least some virtue, a romantic heart. They expect him to be anything but what he constantly proves to be, they expect misunderstood heroes. But he himself acknowledges his sadistic nature.”

  He stood still, seeming to be lost in thoughts while tracing invisible patterns on your shoulder and refusing to meet your eyes.

  “Would you be able to love someone as tainted as him?” he asked wistfully.

  You lifted your upper body, compelling him to a sitting position as well.

  “I’ve never had to,” you pecked his lips chastely, even though he still kept his eyes trained on the grass underneath you. “Hey,” you dig your nails gently on the nape of his neck, asking for his attention. When he raised his head, the wrinkle between his eyebrows was there again. It worried you that, since he’s been back, it’s been a constant feature of his. Every now and then, his face twisted into an inscrutable grimace. “You understand, don’t you?”

  A half-hearted nod was your response, and he built up the mask to conceal his discomfort once again.

  “Enough vitamin D for you? I can’t stand the heat,” he grumbled.

  “Yeah,” you chuckled, pressing your lips to his forehead and standing up, stretching a helping hand. “Where do you want to go?”

  “My place.”

  Which was code for: Your mom is home and I want to pass out on my bed nuzzling you.

  “Whatever you want, grandpa.”

  “Be a brat and I’ll hit the throttle,” he threatened, positioning himself on top of his Triumph. Sometimes he took full advantage of just how dreadful you found his two-wheeled vehicle. And it always worked. You snorted, climbing on the back seat and wrapping your arms around him. “Hold tight, George.” His warning was delivered with amusement, but you knew better than to take it lightly.

  The fifteen-minute trip went as smoothly as it could, and even though you’d made sure to keep your eyes closed, you still felt dizzy and light-headed when he parked into the old building’s garage. He sensed your distress and got off the motorcycle slowly, careful when untangling you’re your arms from his waist and never completely breaking physical contact.

  “Open your eyes,” he murmured, one hand on the small of your back and the other placed on your hip. You took a deep breath and your eyelids tentatively fluttered. His lips brushed your right cheek as he effortlessly lifted you and put you down on the floor, covering the entirety of your hand with his and making a beeline for the elevator.  

  Yoongi’s apartment was on the fourth floor, which happened to be the last one – the building was a small, fading-yellow rectangle in the middle of a quiet neighborhood. In a way, it suited him. Secluded and discreet. Perfect for a misanthrope such as himself, given that you’d never even bumped into one of his neighbors – and you’d been visiting quite regularly. On another note, however, it was uncannily unpretentious for someone like him.

  He stopped for a moment on the front door, fumbling for the keys in his pocket. As soon as he opened it, you made your way to the couch, crashing with a sigh, face buried in the cushion. A minute had passed before he plopped on top of you, compelling a puff of air out of your lungs. You grumbled something about manslaughter, but the sound was muffled. He ignored you, making himself comfortable by nuzzling your neck and taking off his shoes using only his feet. You chuckled, making an effort to turn on your back so you could catch a breath.

  “Sleepy?” you asked, running your fingers through his hair. He hummed a response, content with your ministrations. “I, uh… have something to show you.”

  He raised his head from your throat, eyeing you curiously. “What is it?”

  “Bedroom,” you commanded.

  “Oh, I see,” he taunted, but stood up nonetheless. You rolled your eyes.

  You guided him to his room and closed the door behind you. He leisurely sat on the bed, waiting cautiously for you to proceed. You sucked in a deep breath, growing doubtful under his gaze. Pushing all insecurities aside, you unzipped your shorts.

  “Y/N, what are you doing?” he warned in a low-pitched, deep voice, orbs darkening considerably. You dismissed it, tiptoeing closer to him. He straightened his back and raised his eyes to meet yours, searching for any indication of what you intended to do. You pushed the waistband down, letting the piece of clothing pool on the floor, but he didn’t flinch, attention still focused on your features. When you hooked one finger on the hem of your white panties, he quickly snatched your wrist on a tight grip, brows knitting together. “I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, baby. You know that, right?”

  Your chest swelled with warmth and affection. After the night he came back, things heated up a couple of times. Once he’d realized how tense and anxious you got at first, he began to hold back, withstanding your advances. You never verbalized anything, but he had a hunch, and pressuring you was definitely not on his to-do list. He was being respectful and caring, and although you shouldn’t accept nothing less, it made you feel safe. He made you feel safe, always.

  “Let me show you,” you murmured, a soft smile blooming on your face. He seemed puzzled, but ended up nodding warily. When you moved your finger, slightly pushing the fabric down to expose your hip, he finally had the guts to jeopardize his restraint and look down. You didn’t know what you expected his reaction to be, but that certainly wasn’t it.

  His breath hitched and he paled, eyes almost bulging out of their sockets. He didn’t move a single muscle, whole body tensing up. It was as if he couldn’t fully comprehend the sight before him, like he couldn’t believe. He composed himself soon enough, but you could still see the glint of shock in his eyes. It didn’t make any sense.

  “When did you get that?” his voice came out flat and a few octaves lower than usual.

  “A couple of weeks ago,” you frowned. The tattoo that marked your hip was now almost fully healed. You were doubtful in the beginning, but now you kind of grew fond of it. “What’s wrong?”

  “Do you know…” he cleared his throat, fingers twitching. “Do you know what it means?”

  “Not exactly,” you confessed sheepishly. “The tattoo artist said it was a religious symbol and… Truth be told, I’m not even sure why I did this. Just felt right,” you mumbled, realizing then that you probably sounded a tad out of it. You held your lip between your teeth, unsettled.

  “Yes. It’s the sigil of one of the seven archangels, love. It’s… Michael’s… sigil,” his jaw clenched, but his tone was now softer. “It’s used to invoke strength and protection. The ancients believed that, if you will it enough, he will be able to hear your prayers and, perhaps, be of assistance,” he laid his hand flat on your skin, stroking the symbol with his thumb, oblivious to the little jolts of electricity the simple gesture sent through your body. An unfamiliar mixture of dejection, despair and awe flashed through his onyx eyes, and you wondered what it was that he wasn’t telling you that could’ve possibly elicited such reaction.  

  “How do you know all that?” you wanted him to focus on something other than whatever it was that poisoned his thoughts.

  “Father taught me,” he shrugged.

  It’d been a while since he last mentioned his family. But you knew he was thinking about them whenever you saw the accentuated wrinkle every time he furrowed his brows, or when his muscles felt so tense to the touch that he was akin to marble against your skin. He was worried, he had been for a while now. And it scared you. You needed to know.

  “Yoongi…” the uncertainty that laced your tone made him squeeze your flesh encouragingly. “Where is he? Your dad.”

  “Home,” he stated tersely.

  “I know, but… Where is home? And what about your brothers? I know you said you don’t speak to them anymore, you just never explained why.”

  “We’ve already talked about this. They’re home, too. Y/N, just forget it,” he shook his head, avoiding your gaze.

  “Why do you build this wall between us every time? It’s frustrating. I can help-“

  “You can’t,” he deadpanned, breaking off any contact when he got up, making his way to the door. His demeanor screamed for you to back off, that he had no interest in continuing the conversation. But you were done being left in the dark.

  “Why is it so hard for you to trust me, huh?”

  “I already told you that it’s not a trust issue,” he raised his voice. “Why can’t you accept that I don’t want you to get caught up in the middle of my mess?”

  “Well, I am caught up in the middle of your mess!” you roared. “You were gone for an entire month and have been on edge ever since you got back. Something’s going on, I’m not stupid.”

  “Jesus Christ, Y/N,” a deep growl escaped his throat. “It’s none of your business, if we’re being honest here. They’re my problems, I’m the only one who can fix them – hell, not even that.”

  “If you could stop being such a jerk for a second, you’d realize that they became my problems, too, as soon as I fell in love with you. But you’re so far up your own ass that we can’t even discuss things without yelling at each other,” you spit the words. “Do you know what it’s like for me to watch you struggle like you’ve got the whole world on your shoulders? Especially when my hands are tied,” you stepped closer to his figure, heart hammering on your chest after your little speech. It was nothing but a whisper when you said, “You’re not alone, you idiot.”

  His whole expression softened, and you could recognize a faint smile on his velvety lips. Taking a deep breath, he closed the distance between the both of you and let his hand rest on the column of your neck.

  “I am an idiot,” he nodded, visibly calmer. “And you’re stubborn, you know that?”

  “Might have heard something about it,” you grumbled.

  He hummed. “Forgive me. Could you?”

  “Maybe. Will you… I mean, I just wish you’d open up a little. I’m scared, Yoongi,” you confessed.

  “Me, too.”

  “I know. That’s why.”

  He shook his head and lowered it until his skin touched yours. “I’m scared of your reaction, baby. I don’t know if you’ll want me once you discover the truth,” he murmured, more to himself than to you.

  “I’d say you’re safe. Unless your family is trying to coerce you into becoming a real life Michael Corleone. You didn’t shoot anyone in the head, did you?”

  He chuckled wholeheartedly and took a step back to maintain eye contact and mock you properly. “That’s your theory? That I’m a mobster?”

  You looked down sheepishly, before answering nonchalantly in a small voice, “One of them.” He couldn’t help himself, even though his hand was pressed tight against his mouth and his eyes were glistening with unshed tears of amusement. He tittered.

  “May I know the others?”

  “No,” you glared.

  “Oh, George, what if I ask nicely? What if I say please?”

  “Not even then.”

  “How about pretty please?” You shook your head, trying to pass through him to get to the kitchen, but he encircled his arms around you from behind before you could grasp the knob. “And what if I tell you that I am, too?” he breathed in the shell of your ear and you held your breath for a second. You didn’t need him to vocalize what you already knew, but you felt butterflies fluttering anyways. Still, you kept your ground, suddenly very conscious of the fact that your shorts were still pooled on the floor near the bed.

  “Closer, goodfella. But not enou-“

  The loud bangs on the front door cut you midsentence. You felt Yoongi’s body stiffen before something that sounded terribly similar to a low growl broke out of his throat.

  “Get dressed and stay here,” he ordered, authoritative. He didn’t spare you a glance before exiting the bedroom, and you felt a dreadful feeling claw up your insides, piercing your gut and making you nauseous. Pulse thrumming viciously under your skin, you fetched your shorts and wiggled it up, fastening the belt with shaky hands. Stop overreacting, you told yourself over and over, growing more anxious by the second. You couldn’t understand why, to be honest.

  Taking deep breaths, you forced your fidgety fingers to stay still as you fell limp on the soft mattress, eyes closed. Your mind wandered to the safe haven: cotton clouds and baby blue sky, the smell of the grass, the books scattered around you and him. For a minute, you could truly take the edge off. Until you heard the noise of glass shattering on the wall.

  Getting off the bed as fast as you could, your head spun. You opened the door quietly, careful not to expose the presence of another person in the house, and made a beeline to the kitchen. While you looked franticly for something that could be useful as a weapon, you tried to stay attentive to the sounds. They were muffled, but you could discern at least two voices, apart from Yoongi’s.

  Alright. Great.

  As any sane person who’s watched more than a few movies would do, you went for the most obvious choice. Knives. Better safe than sorry.

  Almost counting your steps, you tiptoed your way to the living room. The voices were not very loud, but you could easily understand what was being said now that you were closer.

  “It’s imperative that you return with us now,” a dulcet, almost high-pitched voice uttered softly. “I am sure you are aware of your responsibilities. It’s time.”

  You stayed hidden behind the icy-white wall that separated the two rooms, gripping the hilt of the knife so tightly that your knuckles turned white. Maybe you shouldn’t be eavesdropping, that was clearly a family matter. Maybe you should lock yourself in Yoongi’s bedroom and do as he said. But the truth was that you were far too curious – and now far too enchanted by the childlike voice – to stop yourself from prying.

  “I believe you have already forgotten about the current state of affairs, then? Father exempted me from my duties as soon as he banished me from the Gates and sent me to exile,” Yoongi spit. You could see it clearly in your head as he ran his fingers through his hair in annoyance. He sounded… different. You didn’t have the courage to tilt your head and steal a glance, afraid they’d catch the motion.

  “Father warned you about the consequences of your stubbornness, Michael, but you were very much unyielding in your misconceptions,” the second person said, gruffy and curt.

  “It is not a misconception to care for our own flesh and blood.”

  Wait. Michael? Had he been listening to your conversation earlier? If the man wasn’t so deadly serious and the air so dense, you would’ve laughed – although you felt that it was probably not the right time to let out a full-throated  guffaw to mask an anxiety attack.

  “Our own flesh and blood abused his role as a persecutor and bent the rules for his own selfish purposes. Azrael is fortunate if Father ever forgives him, albeit we both know he will. Brother, I know you hold the highest regards for truth and justice, but it was not your place to question an order.”

  You could hear the crude man pacing around the room as he spoke. Hoping to stay unnoticed, you sneaked a peek. The first person you landed eyes on was not at all taller than you, and you supposed that was the first man you’d heard. His hair was silvery, almost platinum blonde, styled in a way that evinced his beautiful forehead. The way he carried himself was elegant and graceful, like a ballerina, and his appearance suited his youthful voice perfectly. The second figure to catch your eye, though, was the complete opposite. Tall, lustrous olive skin and brown hair, he was intimidating at first glance. His steps were heavy on the floor, nearly clumsy.

  “Perhaps there lies the problem. We are never to question, even whilst we deem fit. Azrael is the embodiment of corruption and amorality; it’s consensual, we are well aware. No matter how devious, he is needed. Casting one of the Seven out ought to never be an option. Be that as it may… There are only five of us within the Gates now. Was I supposed to receive graciously the task of exiling our own brother?”

  You were growing considerably annoyed by their choice of words. Why the hell would they be talking like your great-grandparents? All cells in your body were telling you that it was supposed to be cringey, but in reality it was nothing but alluring. Charming. And that’s where all the annoyance came from.

  “It is unwise to go against His instructions. Are you a rebel at heart, Prince?” The man stopped his pacing to let the words tumble out of his mouth, venomous. You could tell by Yoongi’s countenance that he was about to lose his composure, and in a way you were yet to see. His body were trembling slightly in fury, and his lips were compressed together in a well-defined line. You were astounded, however, by his eyes. In that moment, you couldn’t move even if you intended to. They were tinted in a deep violet, just like you had seen before at Jin’s encounter, except that, this time, they hadn’t gone back to black.

  “This has nothing to do with the Rebellion, Raph-“

  “Then why disobey? Do you plan to defy Father as well? It would be entertaining to watch you fight your antithesis for the throne of the underworld,” he chuckled.

  It all happened in an instant, but for you it felt like slow motion. Yoongi was convulsing within himself, as if attempting to refrain a great deal of energy from breaking free. Once you saw blood oozing from his closed fists, you knew it was a lost battle. But never, ever, could you have foreseen what came next, what kind of energy – power – exactly he was trying to repress. For a very brief moment, everything stood still. If you had been able to avert your eyes from him, you’d see the silvery-hair figure shudder. You’d see the faint smirk on the lips of the man who caused Yoongi’s outburst, even though he was, deep down, a tad terrified. But you did not have time, nor will-power, to pay attention to anyone but him, ablaze amethysts shooting daggers at the man before them.

  Then everything came crashing down. Your beliefs, the world as you knew it, it was all taken away ruthless and abruptly once you saw white feathers rip through black shirt. You gasped audibly, falling to the floor with a dull thud as the knife clinked at your feet. None of them noticed, too entranced by the interaction that unrevealed itself. Yoongi got to his prey at an unhuman speed, grabbing him by the throat and caging him against the door. The horrid sound was enough to make you wince through your stupor, and, if it were anybody else, their skull would have cracked. The man, however, only clenched his jaw to suppress a whimper.

  “How dare you speak ill of your Leader like this?” as his voice went down a few octaves, Yoongi’s hold tightened visibly. The man-child seemed as ready to meddle as he would ever be, though still too frightened to actually move. “How dare you, brother, mention the Chief of the Heavenlies in the same breath as his nemesis? Mere one hundred and fifty years, Raphael, and you already built the temerity of being impertinent towards me? Or have you simply forgotten who I am?” his wings were whooshing, as if he was preparing to – quite literally – take flight at any given moment. They were stupendous, bigger than he himself, and so snowy-white, so untainted. Truly immaculate, contrasting with his raven hair.

  His angelic features, albeit glorious, could never outstand the magisterial way to which he spoke, imposing authority. Like he was born for it. Everything about him in that moment urged you to bow before his feet, and you weren’t even the one holding his darkened glare. It was entirely alien to you, a facet of him you could barely conceive, let alone process. Raphael undoubtedly recoiled at his words, but tried to conceal it.

  “Then show me. Do your title justice and lead us to victory, as I know there is no wrath nor passion greater than yours. Not for a moment have I forgotten who you are, Flaming Warrior, but you certainly have.” Raphael spoke, and it fell to the ears like a prayer.

  As Yoongi’s wings retracted once again, you breathed what seemed to be the first intake of air in hours. He slackened his grip on Raphael’s throat, who then bent over in a fit of coughing. The boyish man’s shoulders visibly relaxed, and he let out a sigh. Of course, the little truce was bound to be broken the minute one of them laid eyes on you. It happened to be the blonde.

  “Michael, there is a human on your floor,” he whispered, resembling a kid more than ever with his eyes wide open. “Why is there a human on your floor?” he snapped his head, shooting the question directly to Yoongi’s face, and you saw his body stiffen. “Oh, Father! She’s heard our names! Brother…”

  “Silent,” his voice was gruff, and he turned to scrutinize your figure. You weren’t sure of how you looked from the view of an outsider, but you felt… Shock, maybe? Fright? You didn’t know who and what was in front of you, and all you could think was how come his eyes are pitch black now?

  “Yoongi, we violated the law,” the man you now identified as Raphael said.

  “Namjoon,” his eyes never left you as he spoke, “take our brother home and certify yourself that he does not mention today’s events within the Gates.”

  “B-But the protocol-“

  “Does not apply to her, Jimin-ah,” Yoongi cut him off, “If you still need me to fight by your side, that is.”

   He seemed appalled by the perspective of that being an option. “Needless to say, brother, of course we do!”

  “That means I am in charge, then. So, at your superior’s orders, will you be able to keep this to yourself?” Yoongi craned his neck to glance at them through his peripheral vision.

  “If it is what you want, brother,” he mumbled, averting his gaze to the floor in respect.

  “Well, that being the case, I fear we might have to end this dreadful visit already. Notify our soldiers that I am to be expected soon.”

  “Yes, sir,” Raphael responded with a worried frown tainting his beautiful face. He touched the cherubic-like man on the shoulder and they both left the apartment.

  Yoongi’s feet were glued to the floor, the same spot he’d been standing since landing eyes on you. Your breathing was labored and hitched; your throat so dry that it felt like sandpaper. He took a little step forward, slowly stretching one hand in your direction. You let out a low whimper, recoiling until you were almost balled up, knees pressed tight against your chest. He immediately withdrew his arm and flinched.

  “I told you to stay in the bedroom.” His voice was flat, it wasn’t a scold.

  “W-What- What the hell just-“ a sob broke through your throat, and only then did you notice hot tears striking your cheeks. “Y-Yoongi,” you weren’t sure of what to say, let alone if you were actually able to choke a whole sentence out.

  “Are you afraid?”

  Yes.

  Fuck, yes.

  Were you afraid of him, though? Granted, his whole countenance while exerting power over someone else sent chills through down your spine. But that was not the man standing before you now, no.

  “Who are you?” you asked, trying too hard to keep a clear head.

  He straightened his back. “My true name is Michael,” he muttered.

  “You know that’s not what I asked,” you objected.

  “Yes,” he sighed, “I know. Can you keep an open mind?”

  “An open mind?” you scoffed. “I’m here, aren’t I? After seeing a pair of wings growing out of your shoulder blades.”

  “You are,” he chuckled humorlessly. He then walked tentatively in your direction, sitting on the floor as well when he deemed close enough. “I’m one of the Seven.”

  Your face twisted in confusion. Your brain was trying to deny what your subconscious already knew. “Go on.”

  “My brothers and I… we are one of Father’s first creations. Have you ever heard of the seven archangels, George?”

  “Yeah,” your voice was nearly inaudible.

  “It’s easier for you to understand, then. We are responsible for maintaining harmony in Heaven. That, occasionally, includes keeping things in order between the Gates and Earth,” he paused, searching for anything in your face that would require him to stop. “I am… let’s say, of great importance to keep the balance between our worlds, including the nether regions. You might have already gathered that I’m their leader, so to speak. I am in charge of all heavenly troupes, every single one of Father’s soldiers is under my command, as well as I am under His. In times of war, I am indispensable. That’s why they call me Warrior Prince; amongst other things.”

  “So it’s… all real?” your voice almost cracked. “Hell, heaven… God?”

  “Pretty much, yeah.”

  “Then why are you here?” you murmured under your breath and his expression darkened.

  “Immortality can make you petty. Do you remember meeting Azrael? I guess you know him as Jin. Azrael is… unique. Known as the Persecutor, he was the first reaper to ever exist – created before I was, even. He harvests human souls in due time and delivers them to a realm that suits them best. Paradise, Purgatory or Hell. My brother can be misunderstood very easily; his job has brought to the surface a sadistic persona. We all deal with evil from time to time, it was born in our home, but… Azrael is death, it’s a heavy burden to carry. Infinite lifetimes dealing with the worst sentiments a human can ever experience is bound to leave some scars. He can be mischievous and quite a pain in the ass, to be honest,” he huffed, “but his loyalty is admirable. So, when he made an egocentric mistake, Father reunited us all to discuss the best course of action. Much like a trial, if you will. The point is: they banished him to live amongst his… victims for a certain period of time. I could never agree to that, I believe every single one of the Seven serves a purpose, we are all needed to maintain natural balance.”

  “So you rebelled?”

  “No,” he scowled. “I’m not a rebel, I’m… a nonconformist.”

  “It’s the same thing.”

  “Not for us, it’s not.”

  “Okay. Then what happened?”

  “It’s a long story, if you want me to explain it correctly.”

  “I do. And you’re everlasting, so I bet we have some time to spare.”

  “Right,” he snorted. “My people is a bit traumatized when it comes to defiance, you probably know why.”

  “Because of the devil, right?”

  “Lucifer deeply despises all of his nicknames. But yeah, he’s the reason. A very long time ago, Father decided to expand our family. My brothers and I were content, but when He presented the idea of more… more of us, more love, we agreed on the spot. See, He was never, ever, the tyrant your kind makes him to be. Until Lucifer, that is. He was… exquisite, my brother. From his birth, each and every angel to exist used to say that Father got inspired by me when creating him, but in a very distinctive way. As much as possible, we were the flip side of each other, although extremely similar still, if that makes sense. With time, our bond grew stronger; we became inseparable. Almost everything we did was in each other’s company: from training in the fields to reading manuscripts under the sunlight. My brothers and I didn’t have much to worry about, it was a very peaceful existence. We had not come to know sin yet.

   Needless to say, it did not last. Because we were oddly alike and yet so different, comparisons were nearly inevitable. I didn’t mind them back then, so I thought he would never take it to the heart either. I was wrong. Lucifer distanced himself slowly but surely, and with each passing day, he tried harder to triumph over me in a childish competition, one that existed strictly in his head. He’d become resentful, and his animosity soon spread like wildfire towards the others, too. None of us were able to comprehend a feeling we had never experienced ourselves, so it took us years to make sense of the situation. By the time we did… I guess it was already too late.

   When Father created your kind, the hierarchy became even more apparent: only us, the archangels, were allowed to interact with humans – even so, only to a certain degree and always serving a purpose. Father wished your… species to stay untouched by our graces. Masterpieces, as long as kept apart, he had said. You see, your people got it terribly wrong. Lucifer was never jealous of humans – in fact, he holds deep contempt for them. He was jealous of us, of me, because my new responsibilities evinced that we had different roles on the chain of command. If rancor was his first sin, fury came to be the second. He endeavored to make a point of how unfair it was of Father to ‘play favorites’ and provide the Seven with greater might. My brother was a very shrewd, intelligent being, but his envy made him blind to a lot of things.

  Lucifer used the following years to spread his beliefs right under our noses, and therefore was able to gather a herd of angels who succumbed to blatant lies just as much as he did. That was the beginning of the rebellion. His ability to lead was remarkable, but he could never be a true leader – not that he intended to, anyway. The reason is pretty obvious: my brother did not care the least about those under his directions, they were means to an end. His main goal was to dethrone the Seven, and for that he forged a deadly weapon: the flaming sword. The uprising initiated a war that none of us were ready for, not even him. For seven days, we fought. For seven days, we continuously killed our own. I suppose you already know the end to that story.”

   You were so fascinated by his narrative that you’d already forgotten the reason he brought up the subject.

  “I think so,” you said. “The real thing is actually so… different from everything I’ve ever heard.”

  “I know. Tales never accomplish the whole truth.”

  “But what does that have to do with the reason you’re here?”

  “Like I said, my kind does not tolerate defiance after everything that happened. When Azrael was sentenced, I didn’t exactly make an effort to hide how I felt about it. They didn’t take it very well, so if you ask any of them why I was exiled, they’ll say it was for disobedience. When, in fact, it was because I reminded them too much of him,” he sighed, and you both fall into a pregnant pause. “How are you taking this?”

  “I’m not sure. I guess I just didn’t have enough time to process yet.”

  “I know,” he twisted a strand of your hair in his slender index finger.

  All of a sudden, a realization fell heavy on your heart.

  “Is your time up?”

  His brows knitted themselves together. “My time?”

  “Yeah. You said you’d stay here… for a predetermined amount of time. Is that why they came to get you?”

  “No, George,” he let out a puff of air from his nose, “that’s not why they came for me.”

  “Then why?”

  “Think about it. Why would they need their General for?”

  You shook your head, trying to make sense of what he was telling you. Oh.

  “You said you were indispensable in times of…” your whisper faded to an end.

  “War,” he completed.

    ||\\

                                                                                                                                  “While they adore me on the throne of hell,

With diadem and sceptre high advanced

The lower still I fall, only supreme

In misery; such joy ambition finds.

But say I could repent and could obtain

By act of grace my former state; how soon

Would height recall high thoughts, how soon unsay

What feigned submission swore: ease would recant

Vows made in pain, as violent and void

For never can true reconcilement grow

Where wounds of deadly hate have pierced so deep:

Which would lead me to a worse relapse

And heavier fall: so should I purchase dear

Short intermission bought with double smart.”

      There was a thin layer of snow covering the streets once again. The friction between the tires and the asphalt was barely there, and if the circumstances were different, that would be your main concern. The wind howled as you cut through it like bullets, and you tightened your embrace around his waist, somehow enjoying the numbing air of a cold late-afternoon. Eyes wide opened this time. When he finally parked in front of the porch, you quickly hopped down and took the helmet off, placing it in the seat you had previously taken. Before you could say or do anything, Yoongi seized your wrist with a leather-gloved hand.

  “I’m positively opposed to this,” he blurted in a last attempt to change your mind.

  “I know.” You tried to free yourself from his iron grasp, but to no avail. It was getting easier to read his features, and you could tell he was still unsure. But you were not. “Yoongi, it’s my call.”

  “Don’t I have a say in it?”

  “Ultimately… no.”

  “Want you to be safe, that’s all. Let us be reasonable about this, why don’t you?”

  “I thought you understood better than anyone that I don’t get to be reasonable about this,” you sighed with impatience. “Please, I—”

  “Okay,” he loosened his grip. “I’ll wait here.”

  “Okay.”

  The light was off in the living room, your mother wasn’t home yet. You told yourself that it was better this way. Making a beeline to the stairs, you went over the little list in your head once again before entering your bedroom.

  Set of clothes, toothbrush, toothpaste, laptop… What else?

  You looked around, the baby-blue walls somehow mocking you, an excruciating reminder of simpler times. Memories of your childhood swirled inside your mind. All the times you and Taehyung would play hide and seek, the squeals he’d let out whenever you caught him off guard, how he was certainly faster than you, but would let you win a childish race every now and then. The familiar scent of caramel and coffee roaming around the house in the wee small hours of the morning after movie nights, your mom’s chocolate chip pancakes for lunch on Sundays. It all felt like a lifetime ago.

  Hauling your backpack across your shoulder, you had a weird feeling that that was it. That was goodbye. Although Yoongi had promised you’d be back safe and sound in a couple of days, you knew things could go wrong. It was a pondered decision; you were aware of the risks, he’d made sure of it. Still, leaving his side when there was a real possibility that he might not get out alive was just… not conceivable. Logically, you understood that, if things went south, you would not be able to do much. You did not care much for logic these days, anyway.

                                     [Cheers Darlin’, by Damien Rice]

  Stepping out of the room and shutting the door as quietly as possible—for no apparent reason—you hopped downstairs two steps at a time, making sure to avoid staring at other parts of the house that could trigger another episode of nostalgia. Too focused on the task of trying not to focus, you missed the six feet tall barricade blocking the entrance to the living room, crashing into it face-first. If it wasn’t for the unrelenting grip keeping you in place, you would’ve certainly hit the floor.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” the flat baritone voice resonated throughout the empty space.  

  Of course. You closed your eyes tightly, taking a deep breath before even contemplating lifting your head to make eye contact.

  “Do you need something?” in a poor attempt to shield yourself, you parroted his dead intonation.

  “Do I need something,” he hummed. Then he chuckled, fists clenching around your forearms. “Are you leaving?” he spat. “What about your mom, huh?”

  “It’s just a couple of days. I’ll call her.”

  By the scowl plastered on his face, your dismissive attitude hadn’t worked the way you planned it to. You had to do this quick, like ripping off a bandage. If anyone could give you a run for your money in this situation, that would be Taehyung. You knew he’d try to persuade you into staying, so you couldn’t risk it. For both your sakes.

  “I see,” he remarked. “Were you planning to tell me you’re running off with your boyfriend or you’d just leave me to figure it out on my own?”

  His venomous words burned out of his mouth at lightning speed, tainting his tongue with a pungent aftertaste.

  “You know I would never do something like that,” the hurt that laced your voice was evident, but, maybe for the first time, it didn’t make him feel half as bad as it should.

  “Do I?” he scoffed. “For the past few months, it feels like you’ve already left. Wouldn’t make much of a difference if you actually did, I guess.”

  That did it. You felt tears well up in your eyes, but you were determined to not let them fall.

  “Okay, I’m not doing this,” you whispered, not trusting your voice enough to speak properly, and pulled your arms out of his grasp roughly. You darted for the closed front door, feeling sick to your stomach at the thought of spending another minute inside the house. He clutched your shirt tightly, as if it was a lifeboat.

  “Wait,” his fists clenched tighter. You could sense him getting closer, but you didn’t have the guts to turn around and face him just yet. He buried his face on your right shoulder, holding your hip now, nails bound to leave little crescent moons on your skin. “M’sorry,” he mumbled. “I hate this.”

  Your heart ached. You hated it, too. Pushing Taehyung away was never your intention, but you finally came to understand all the times Yoongi had kept a safe distance before. To keep you safe. You couldn’t risk it, not with Marzipan.

  “It’s fine, Tae.”

  “It’s not,” he shook his head, brushing his nose on the fabric of your blouse. Inhaling deeply, he moved to the nape of your neck. You shuddered. “None of this is fine,” a peck on the bare skin of your neck, and your entire body tensed.

  “Taehyung…” you warned.

  “Don’t,” he begged, turning you around. You were adamant on avoiding his gaze, so your eyes kept darting between your feet and your hands. “Don’t go.”

  While he rested his forehead on yours, one hand on your cheek and the other thumbing your collarbone, you knew what was about to happen. You knew, and, still, you couldn’t bring yourself to stop him. You knew, but it was Taehyung, your best friend. Marzipan, the little boy from the house next door. Boxy smile, disheveled hair, sweet-toothed Taehyung. How wrong could it be? You were saying goodbye to a part of your own soul. How wrong could it be?

  When his lips touched yours, soft and ravenous, you really wanted it to feel right. But the answer to your previous question was: too wrong. You loved him, yes. But he wasn’t him. Didn’t taste the same, didn’t feel the same. His movements weren’t slow yet demanding, his hand wasn’t drawing invisible patterns on your lower back, his smell wasn’t musky enough. It just didn’t feel right.

  “Tae,” you tried to end the kiss, but he led his mouth back to yours like in a trance, nibling on your lower lip. “Taehyung, stop!”

  By the end of it, you were both panting. It dawned you how big of a mistake you had just made, and guilt made you nauseous. Neither of them deserved what you’d just done, neither of them deserved to have their hearts broken because you were such a fuck up.

  “I-I’m so sorry, Tae,” your voice cracked. He was about to answer, but you didn’t want to hear it. You couldn’t breathe, your skin was on fire and there was a big, nasty lump in your throat. You bolted out the door, only to be met with Yoongi’s inquiring gaze. It seemed to have broken a damn, and heavy tears tumbled down your cheeks. He rushed to meet you halfway, brushing the tears away as soon as his hands reached your face.

  “Hey,” he shushed you. “What happened, baby?”

  “Can we go home, please?”

 The crease between his furrowed eyebrows deepened, but still, he chose not to pry any further.

  “Of course, love. Of course we can,” he softly muttered, although still hesitant to take his hands off you.

  You climbed onto the familiar grey motorcycle and hid your damped cheeks on his jacket. The beast rumbled, gaining speed as you cut through the air. The ghost of Taehyung’s lips on yours haunting you the entire way back.

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 1

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader

Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it?

Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

This is a kingdom AU of DreamTeam & SleepyBoisInc’s characters! These are not the real people and I tried to portray them as how their characters are in the SMP as best I could. I took some small liberties to fit this specific plot line. I am also not caught up with the SMP since it is a lot to watch. In all honesty, at time of reading this Jschlatt has only just joined the server in regards to where I’m at.

How am I writing about characters I haven’t even met yet? I know enough vaguely about them to do so.

Also the kingdoms, in the original draft, are not named as I don’t know what to name them yet. This may change later.

Thanks for reading, though!

--

Chapter 1: Betrothal

"What?!" You heaved a sigh at the voice, moving your fingers from your hair as you turned to the rather affronted voice. In front of you stood your childhood friend, Dream. A scowl marred the visible portion of his face, one green eye narrowed at you. His distaste was clear, and you could only sigh again.

"We need to end this famine, Dream. Besides, a convenient marriage is a convenient marriage. I'm the age to marry. I have no one I want to marry. I'll marry who I need to assure the safety and security of my people." It was something so simple. Your people were currently starving, barely managing by. Even the castle and the nobles felt the waves of this. One of the neighboring kingdoms had offered help, but at a hefty price. Your hand in marriage to their crown prince.

"It's just a bad harvest! You can't go there to those warmongering monsters. Have you ever even met them?" His arm flung towards the wall, a vague gesticulation towards the other kingdom. He was right, you had never met someone from there. They had a grim past of war and conquest. Another reason it was convenient for you to go.

"It's been a bad harvest for a few years. While their values may differ from ours, marrying their prince has its perks. It should protect us from war with them, at least while I live." You walked to Dream, lowering his arm gently. A soft but firm hold. "I'll be fine. Besides, I'll be meeting them within the week."

You knew very little of this country, truly. They had differing reputation. The men called them monsters, while older soldiers said they were savages on the battlefield. Working women in the village insisted that they were just like any other country, but they at least had an attractive royal family. The servants in the castle seemed to agree with that sentiment. You? You had cause to believe both.

"A week? You- A week?!" Dream stammered in anger, or disbelief. Maybe both. He pushed your hands away from him, turning to pace around your room. Another sigh fell from your lips, eyes traveling from the axe bouncing against his back to the open door. Castle life was resuming as normal. Like their only princess wasn't being carted off soon to some foreign kingdom for marriage. This kingdom would be fine. Your parents were great rulers, and your older brother would be as well. You just worried about your future more than you would admit.

"-unknown kingdom run by fucking brutes, and you're giving me a week with you before I never see you again?!" Dream's rising voice ripped you from your thoughts, gaze finding him again. An enraged green eye focused solely on you, and you could only take a deep breath. He always had a volatile anger.

"You'll see me again, I'm sure. I'll be sure to write,” You soothed softly, offering up what you could only hope was a reassuring smile. There was no telling if it actually did, either. He definitely did seem to calm a little at that, at least. A little wasn’t quite enough though.

“It’s not the same. What am I supposed to do once you’re gone?” He grumbled, looking down at you with a furrowed brow. You resisted the temptation to laugh at the expression and general cluelessness. This wasn’t the time to tease him. He was like a puppy sometimes. 

“I think you’ll manage just fine. You could always go annoy George.” A smile graced your lips at the thought. George was your older brother, crown prince to the kingdom. He and Dream got along fine, thankfully. You were sure that he would keep your friend in check while you were gone. Dream would just have to get over it all once you had left.

“It’s not the same, he has responsibilities to attend to,” He huffed, head shaking.

“As do I. That’s why we’re having this conversation. How about your other friend?” You turned from him, moving about your room. You needed to think about what you would have to bring with you. Which dresses and which jewelry. You didn’t even know what the court was like over there. 

“Maybe. Are you sure you’ll be fine? You’ll come back if something happens?” He was calming down, it seemed. Good. You could do without him being frantic and yelling. It was always exhausting when it got like that. You paused and thought about his words. Would you even be able to come back? You had an inkling of a feeling that once you were married, you’d be stuck there. A white lie for the sanity of your friend wouldn’t hurt.

“Of course I will, Dream. If anything is wrong, you’ll be the first to know. I won’t stay where I’m in danger.” You turned to him, once more offering a soft smile. There was no telling if you were right in your words. Would you return? Would you be safe there? No one knew, and only time would tell.

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