#bc i have so many ideas that fill my soul

[olive-main]

Hi, hope you’re well! Saw your request for angst ideas. If you’re interested: Reader has been part of the Inner Circle for years, like an og member. Post war she watches Az fall in love with Elaine or Gwyn. She’s known they’re mates, but he’s always told her he loves her as a friend, and nobody else knows they’re mates. She watches as his relationship grows, maybe they’re having a kid or whatever, this can be all the angst you see fit. She’s finally had enough and decides to leave (either for work as an emissary or for herself). Maybe as she starts to rebuild, Az and the IC realize how much her loss impacts them. But when they go see her, she’s thriving. Ending can be whatever floats your boat, maybe she’s with Eris or thriving in Day as Lucien’s advisor, or something else all together.

To Love and Let Go

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Summary: An unrequited love, and a one sided mating bond. What will reader do when she can no longer watch Azriel fall for another female who isn’t her?

Wc: 2.9k (gah dayum)

A/N: ok, this is the longggest fic I've written to date, but I don't hate it...and I may be persuaded to write a part two with multiple endings bcs I'm indecisive asf. Requests are still open and highly encouraged since I'm on break and have a bunch of free time, clearly.

Masterlist

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The stars are mocking tonight, their gleam far too bright for the storm brewing inside you. Velaris has always been beautiful, but tonight the city feels suffocating. The laughter of your family echoes around the River House’s dining room, filling the space with warmth and joy.

You sit at the edge of the long table, wine in hand, your smile carefully in place. Cassian is in the middle of one of his stories, something about Azriel and a drunken spar decades ago. The table erupts in laughter, and you can’t help but glance at him.

Azriel sits across from you, his shoulders relaxed, his shadows soft and relaxed as they curl lazily around him. He’s laughing—quiet and rare, but enough to tug at your chest in a way you’ve never been able to stop.

Beside him, Gwyn is radiant. She laughs, bright and genuine, her hand resting on his arm as though it’s the most natural thing in the world. His hand shifts, fingers brushing over hers in a way that’s intimate, tender. Simple. Devastating.

You lift your wine to your lips and down the rest of the glass in one burning gulp.

You’ve known for years that Azriel isn’t yours to have. When the Cauldron whispered of your bond, it hadn’t been the joyous revelation you’d dreamed of. Instead, it had been a curse.

You feel it even now—that golden thread tying your soul to his, pulling taut every time you see him. But Azriel never acknowledged it, not once. How could he when he didn't even know it existed?

“You’re my best friend,” he’d told you long ago, sitting beside you on a rooftop in Velaris, the two of you cloaked in silence and shadows. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

And you’d smiled. Smiled and tucked the truth deeper inside yourself, burying it so far down you almost convinced yourself it wasn’t real. Almost.

The conversation shifts around you, but the words blur together, distant and unimportant. You force yourself to stay, to laugh when you’re supposed to, to nod in all the right places.

Across the table, Gwyn leans closer to Azriel, whispering something in his ear. He smiles at her, that soft, secret smile you’ve seen so many times over the years. But it’s never been for you.

The ache in your chest spreads, sharp and relentless, until you can’t bear it any longer. You push your chair back, the legs scraping loudly against the floor.

“Everything okay?” Mor asks, her brows furrowing as she studies you.

You nod quickly, forcing a tight smile. “Just need some air.”

No one questions you, and you’re grateful for it. You slip out of the room and onto the balcony, the cool night air rushing to meet you. The stars stretch endlessly above, and for a moment, you close your eyes and pretend this life isn’t yours.

But the bond hums faintly in the back of your mind, tethering you to someone who will never feel the same way.

—

You grip the balcony railing, the cool metal grounding you as you draw in a shaky breath. The quiet should feel peaceful, but it doesn’t. Not with the sound of their laughter spilling through the open door behind you, not with the bond thrumming painfully in the back of your mind.

You’ve endured this for years. Watching Azriel laugh, fight, live, all while pretending your heart doesn’t shatter every time he smiles at someone who isn’t you. Gwyn. Elain before her, and Mor long before that. All the women who could never feel what you feel for him—but were lucky enough to have his attention anyway.

And then there’s you, his best friend. The one he trusts, confides in, leans on. Just never in the way you ache for. Even before the bond snapped, you’d been in love with the Shadowsinger. He was always the calm amongst the chaos of your family, the one you could seek refuge in.

The sound of footsteps interrupts your thoughts. You don’t need to look to know it’s him. His shadows reach you first, curling gently around your wrist, hesitant and curious. They always do that, as if they sense the things he doesn’t.

“Are you okay?” Azriel’s voice is soft, warm in a way that makes it harder to breathe.

You release the railing and turn to face him, your mask firmly in place. “I’m fine. Just needed a moment.”

His brows pull together, his hazel eyes studying you in that unrelenting way of his. “You’ve seemed… distracted tonight.”

You force a laugh, shaking your head. “I’m not distracted. Just tired, that’s all.” The lie was easy on your tongue, a lie you’ve repeated more times than you can count.

His shadows shift, curling tighter around you. “You can tell me if something’s wrong,” he says, his voice low, careful.

You want to laugh again. Wrong? Everything is wrong. Your mate is standing in front of you, looking at you with concern while his love sits inside, waiting for him. He doesn’t even feel the bond that’s been tearing you apart for years. How could you possibly tell him the truth?

“I’m fine, Az,” you say again, stepping back, putting distance between you. “Go back inside. Gwyn’s probably wondering where you are.”

Something flickers across his face, but it’s gone before you can place it. He hesitates, his shadows brushing against your hand one last time before retreating.

“All right,” he says quietly. But he doesn’t look convinced.

You watch him go, his wings casting long shadows across the balcony as he disappears into the house. The bond hums faintly, pulling at your heart even as you stand there alone.

—

A part of you wants to blame yourself for never telling him about the mating bond. It was known Azriel always longed for a mate, so much so he had made the bold claim of Elain being his mate once upon a time. Now, he's with Gwyn under that same notion. Unfortunately, your heart had wanted him to love you without the influence of the bond.

Your thoughts persist as you force your eyes shut, trying and failing to fall asleep.

Instead, you lie awake in your bed, staring at the ceiling as the weight of it all presses down on you. You’ve built your entire life around the Inner Circle, around him. And for what? To watch him build a life with someone else? To keep breaking your own heart over and over again?

No.

When dawn comes, the decision is already made.

—

“Are you sure about this?” Feyre asks, her hand resting lightly on your arm.

You stand in the foyer of the River House, your bags already packed and waiting by the door. The soft morning light filters through the windows, casting golden hues over everything. It should feel warm. Comforting. But all you feel is the ache of goodbye.

“I’m sure,” you say, and your voice doesn’t waver.

Rhysand stands a few paces away, arms crossed, his violet eyes sharp and assessing. You were like a sister to him, someone he’d protected and seen through every phase of life. “You don’t have to do this,” he says gently. “We can figure something out. If you need time off, time for yourself—”

“I need more than time, Rhys,” you interrupt, forcing a small smile to soften the blow. “I need space. A fresh start. This is the right move for me.”

You’d rehearsed this conversation a dozen times, carefully framing your departure as a professional opportunity. An emissary position in Day Court. Helion had been eager to accept your offer, praising your skills and promising a new challenge that you could sink your teeth into.

It wasn’t a lie. You would thrive in Day Court. But it wasn’t the whole truth either.

Feyre’s grip on your arm tightens, her lips pressing together as if she’s holding back an argument. “I just… I don’t want you to feel like you’re running away,” she says softly.

You glance past her, your eyes catching on the open archway leading to the dining room. You can feel him in there, his shadows faint even from this distance. The bond pulls, a sharp tug against your ribs.

“I’m not running away,” you tell her, even though part of you wonders if that’s exactly what this is. “I’m choosing myself for once.”

Rhys nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “If that’s what you need, then we support you. Always.”

A lump rises in your throat, but you swallow it down, turning to hug Feyre. “Thank you. For everything.”

—

Azriel watches from the shadows of the dining room as you leave. He doesn’t mean to linger there, doesn’t mean to eavesdrop—but he can’t help it.

He hears Feyre’s quiet goodbye, Rhys’s reassurances. He sees the way your shoulders straighten as you step out the door, as if you’re carrying a weight none of them can understand.

Something twists in his chest, sharp and unfamiliar.

He doesn’t understand it. You’ve left Velaris before, gone on missions and trips for weeks at a time. But this feels… different. Permanent.

For a moment, he almost steps forward, almost calls out to you. But then the door closes, and you’re gone.

—

The Day Court is a world apart from Velaris.

Here, the sun always seems to shine, casting a golden glow over Helion’s sprawling palace. It’s vibrant, full of life, and for the first time in years, you feel as though you can finally breathe.

Helion welcomes you with open arms, praising your work and throwing you headfirst into new projects. The days are busy, your nights peaceful, and slowly—very slowly—the ache in your chest begins to fade.

You make new allies and friends. Lucien, especially, becomes an unexpected source of comfort. He understands unspoken bonds, the pain of being tied to someone who doesn’t want you. For the first few weeks, most, if not all your time was spent by his side.

“You’re free now,” he tells you one evening, the two of you sitting on a balcony overlooking the Day Court gardens. His amber eyes glint in the fading sunlight. “It doesn’t feel like it yet, but it will. One day.”

You smile, a real smile, and let the words settle in your chest.

—

Back in Velaris, the Inner Circle feels the void you’ve left behind. Cassian complains loudly during training sessions about how things don’t run as smoothly without you. Mor keeps suggesting trips to Day Court, half-joking but half-serious. Even Feyre finds herself reaching for you during meetings, only to realize you’re no longer there.

And Azriel…

Azriel notices most of all.

He misses the quiet way you steadied him, the way you always seemed to know what he needed before he did. The balance you brought to the group. To him.

At first, he tells himself it’s just an adjustment. You’ll be back eventually. But as the weeks stretch into months, he begins to realize just how deeply your absence has cut into his life.

The shadow of the bond hums faintly in the back of his mind, but he doesn’t understand why.

Not yet.

—

It’s Feyre who suggests the trip.

“You’ve been working too hard,” she tells Azriel, shooting him with a look that leaves no room for argument. “We all have. A visit to Day Court will do us some good. Besides, it’s been too long since we’ve seen her.”

Azriel hesitates but eventually agrees. He tells himself it’s curiosity, that he just wants to see how you’re settling in. Since you’ve left his relationship with everyone, Gywn especially, has grown distant. He tries to find you in her, comparing the small things that shouldn’t matter—and every time it only makes his heart sink.

When they arrive, they find you in the Day Court gardens, laughing at something Lucien has said. The sunlight catches in your hair, your face glowing with a happiness Azriel hasn’t seen in years.

The gardens are breathtaking, a vibrant sprawl of golden blooms and gleaming fountains that seem to echo the brilliance of the sun overhead. But Azriel doesn’t see any of it.

His focus is entirely on you.

You look radiant, the golden hues of Day Court seeming to highlight the confidence you’ve gained in your time away.

Lucien leans closer, his expression soft yet intent, and the sight makes something dark and ugly twist in Azriel’s chest. It’s not the first time he’s seen Lucien or been jealous of the male, but this—this—feels different. He used to feel that pang of jealousy when he blindly pined for Elain, now with you it returned with a greater force.

He doesn’t understand why these feelings have suddenly spread through him. You’ve always been his friend. His anchor. But as Lucien reaches out to brush a stray hair from your face, Azriel feels like he’s watching something slip through his fingers.

“Az?” Feyre’s voice pulls him back. She’s watching him with careful eyes, her brow furrowing.

He shakes his head and straightens his posture, forcing his expression back into neutral territory. “I’m fine.” But he isn’t.

Before Feyre can press him further, Lucien notices their approach and gives a low whistle. “Well, well. Velaris sends its finest.” His tone is teasing, but there’s warmth in his amber eyes as they flick toward you.

You turn, and when your gaze lands on Azriel, your smile falters. It’s a subtle shift, but he sees it. Feels it.

“Rhysand. Feyre. Azriel,” you greet, inclining your head slightly, your voice polite but distant. As if they were strangers and not the family you chose all those centuries ago.

He hates it.

The reunion is cordial at first, filled with pleasantries and talk of work. Lucien stands close to you, his presence steady, his hand occasionally brushing yours in a way that grounds you. Azriel’s shadows stir restlessly, but he forces them into submission.

“You’ve done well here,” Feyre says warmly, her gaze sweeping over the garden. “It suits you.”

“Thank you.” Your smile is genuine, though it doesn’t quite reach Azriel. “Helion has been… generous with his trust.”

“And with his emissary’s time,” Lucien adds, grinning at you. “She’s a natural. Can’t imagine how Day Court managed before she arrived.”

The praise makes you duck your head slightly, a faint blush blooming across your cheeks. Azriel’s jaw tightens.

“Sounds like you’ve been keeping busy,” he says, his voice lower than usual.

Your eyes flick to him briefly before turning back to Lucien, but there’s something guarded in your expression. “I have. It’s been… fulfilling.”

The word stings more than it should.

—

Eventually, Feyre and Rhys drift away with Lucien, leaving you and Azriel alone amidst the golden flowers. The silence stretches between you, heavy with unspoken words.

“You’ve been… different,” he says finally, breaking the silence.

You glance at him, your arms folding across your chest. “Different how?”

He hesitates, searching for the right words. “Happier,” he admits.

The softness in his voice almost makes you falter, but you stand your ground. “I am,” you say simply.

His shadows curl around his feet, agitated. “You left so suddenly,” he says, his tone sharper now. “One day you were there, and the next you were… gone. No warning. No explanation.”

You raise an eyebrow, bitterness creeping into your voice. “I told you I needed space. I told all of you.” You pause for a second, staring at a cluster of white lilies. “Why does it matter now, Azriel?”

“Because I miss you,” he says, the words raw and unguarded. “We all do. But me… I—” He stops himself, jaw clenching.

You laugh softly, but it’s a hollow, bitter sound. “You miss me now? After I’ve finally started to find peace? After you’ve built a life with Gwyn?”

His shadows surge forward, brushing against your arm, but you shake them off. “Don’t do this, Azriel.”

“You’re my friend,” he says, and the words make your heart twist painfully.

You whirl to face him, your eyes blazing. “No. I was never just your friend, Azriel. I was your mate.”

The truth spills out before you can stop it, sharp and cutting. He freezes, his expression shifting from confusion to disbelief.

“What?” His voice is barely a whisper.

You laugh again, a broken sound. “The Cauldron tied us together centuries ago, but you never felt it, did you? You never even noticed.”

His shadows pull back, retreating like they’ve been burned. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because it didn’t matter!” you snap, your voice rising. “You didn’t want me that way, Azriel. You never did. And I wasn’t about to force something on you that you didn’t feel.”

He stares at you, his usually stoic face cracking with something raw and uncertain. “I—”

But you shake your head, cutting him off. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’ve moved on.”

“You’ve moved on?” he echoes, his gaze flicking toward the direction Lucien went. His voice lowers, dangerous. “With him?”

“Yes,” you say firmly, though the word feels heavy. “Because he sees me, Azriel. He knows what it’s like to be unwanted. To feel second-best.”

The words are a dagger between you, and you can see the way they strike him, the way his shadows twist and writhe.

“Is that what you think?” he asks quietly, his voice breaking. “That you were second-best?”

Your throat tightens, but you refuse to back down. “I don’t think it. I know it.”

For a moment, neither of you speak. The bond hums faintly in your chest, but it’s different now—fading, unraveling as you finally let go of the male who could never love you the way you deserved.

“I’m happy here,” you say softly, your voice steady. “And you… you have Gwyn. You have your life in Velaris. Let that be enough.”

Azriel doesn’t argue. He just stands there, his shadows a chaotic storm around him, as you turn and walk away.

This time, you don’t look back.

Aaannd scene XOXO ~

[bloodbenderz]

there was a lot of mistakes made in the live action but the worst one without reservation was that the creators did not understand patriarchy and they did not understand women's liberation outside of an american context ( or any context if we're being honest )

it's easy to see on a surface level how that fucked up katara's whole character how she wasn't allowed to have her character defining moments how she wasn't allowed to be angry or even excited or impulsive but i think it doesn't really become clear how deeply wrong the show's conception of gender & patriarchy is (and the implications for the political landscape of the show) until you get into how they destroyed sokka's character too

sokka's whole Complex is born of patriarchy. i'm not trying to do men's rights advocacy here but in my experience when a people is under constant threat, constant assault, constant violence (much of which is gendered) and the traditional "protectors" or "providers" of that people are men, the masculine role becomes protecting women and children. i am not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing but it is true the narrative of violent resistance is overwhelmingly about men. to be a man in a time & place like this means fighting to protect your women, & to die for them is honorable. that is where sokka gets this idea that he has to be a warrior & he has to fight & if necessary die for katara & the rest of the tribe. it's about duty. everyone has a part to play, a role to fill

everyone including women! which is the other half of this. the duty of women is to keep up the home, to maintain a country worth fighting & dying for, to raise children so that the community can have a future. it becomes especially obvious in the context of the show when you see how the nwt lives & in specific how yue lives and dies.

many women participate in patriarchy. many colonized women participate in patriarchy. most of my family comes from or still lives in a country completely devastated by colonialism & its aftereffects & many women in my family believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everyone in the house has a role to play. it's not because these women are stupid or they hate themselves. but when you grow up believing that men & women are fundamentally different, and seeing that women are in specific danger because of their gender, it actually makes a lot of sense to expect the men in your family to protect you, and to raise your sons that way.

in practice that means that men aren't really expected to do anything around the house, especially when there's no actual danger. my aunt literally 2 days ago told me this lol like she doesn't make her sons do anything bc she wants to let their lives be easy before they have to go out into the world & take care of their wives & children.

what does women's liberation look like when an entire community is under threat? colonized women have been dealing with this question as long as colonialism has existed. the writers of this show don't even pretend to understand the question, much less to formulate a thoughtful response to it. they just say oh, well, katara, yue, & suki are all the exact same type of liberated girlboss for whom patriarchy is no significant obstacle.

which brings us back to sokka lol. sokka, at the beginning of the show, has completely subscribed to patriarchy, has integrated it into his sense of self. he has a lot of flaws, but he also has a lot of really good traits. his bravery, sense of honor, loyalty, work ethic, selflessness, all of this came from him striving to be a good man. he would die to protect katara, because she's his sister. he also has her wash his socks & mend his clothes, because she's his sister. even after he meets suki, humbles himself, & expands his view of the role a woman can play, he doesn't completely disengage from patriarchy. at the end of the day he believes in his soul that a good man's duty is to fight & if necessary die for his people, & that's exactly his plan. this is a very real psychic burden. pre-aang, it's also largely fictional & completely ridiculous. we're SUPPOSED to think it's ridiculous. he's spending his time training babies & working on his little watchtower. the swt hasn't been attacked since their mother was killed because it has been completely stripped of all value or danger it once held for the fire nation, & everybody knows this. there is very little "men's work" left, aside from hunting & fishing, which is so damaging to sokka's self image he resorts to toddler bootcamp to feel useful. the contradiction here is comical. it's also completely devastating. that's supposed to be the fucking POINTTTT like colonialism & patriarchy convinces this young boy he needs to be a soldier & die for his family. & you know what he does? He acts like a young boy about it. they didn't just leave this unexplored in the remake they completely changed the circumstances to 1. make sokka incompetent for some reason 2. make his "preparations" seem less ridiculous. Which ruins the whole character. Possibly the whole show.

all this makes the writing of katara & the other women infinitely more offensive to me. katara is a good character because she believes in revolution. she wants to liberate her people from imperialism, & she wants to liberate women from colonial gendered violence, traditional patriarchy in her own culture, & the complicated ways those things interact. it is LITERALLY the first thing you're supposed to learn about her. she's the PERFECT vehicle to address the question of women's liberation under colonialism. one of the things i was most looking forward to seeing in this show was how labor is distributed in a place where almost everything that needs to get done is "women's work" & how it affects katara & sokka's day to day relationship when their lives weren't at risk constantly. what actually are her responsibilities every day, & how do they compare to sokka's? how does her grandmother enforce these traditions with katara & sokka, & how is that informed by her own experiences in the nwt? what does patriarchy look like in a tribe made up of mostly women & children? it's so important to who katara is & what she believes! but why bother exploring any of that when u could instead make her a shein model who has nothing in common with the source material except her hairstyle lol.

yue is actually even worse to me bc yue is supposed to be sokka's counterpart. she's supposed to show you how destructive it is for women specifically to internalize this gendered duty so completely. it sucks for sokka, but he is a man & thus his prescribed role gives him some agency. yue's role affords her no agency whatsoever, & this is the POINT. to make her someone who's allowed to break things off with her fiance if she likes, who sneaks off to do what she wants when she's feeling stressed, whose will is respected as a monarch, like what is even the point of yue anymore? in the original the whole reason she was even allowed to spend time with sokka was because her father knew she was with a trustworthy boy. her story completely loses all significance when the dimension of patriarchy is removed from it. the crux of her whole story is that she is not just a princess but the literal & spiritual representation of the motherland. that's what women are supposed to represent during wartime, at the cost of their own sense of self. in order to fulfill her duty to her people she gives her life to them in every single way that matters.

it's just so unbelievably frustrating (and WRONG) that the only types of characters for these writers are "soulless misogynistic fuck" and "liberated american-style feminist." there's no nuance at all! they don't bother exploring how real love manifests in patriarchal communities, & how patriarchy defines the limits of that love. or how for so many of these people their idea of goodness, morality, & honor is gendered. or how imperialism affects not just individuals but entire cultures & their conceptions of gender. but why do any actual work when you could completely change sokka & katara's general demeanors, their entire personalities, & their roles in the tribe so you can dodge any & all nuance

Anyways. in conclusion. it was bad

[haitanology]

all is said and done before doomsday comes ; s62 x fem!reader

—it’s no secret that tenjiku brings misfortune to all those whose red fabric bleeds onto their skin. before the dooming tragedy crashes upon all of your closest friends, you indulge yourselves in a night where all limits break, tasting what once was forbidden to them.

warning — smut (mdni) ! gangbang, sub!reader, rough sex, unprotected sex, fingering, oral (f & m receiving), orgasm denial, double penetration, anal, dacryphilia, squirting, lots of cum/spit/tears, creampie, praising, body worship, overstimulation, size kink, reader’s eyes are covered at one point, 69, mating press (?), some of them are filthy little freaks and others nasty little shits, kakucho not invited bc he was 14 at the time, got a master’s in dickology i guess bc never have i ever described so many with such detail, there’s probably more i missed idk

wc ~ 9.6k

note, this. this is what i bring to the function. the inability to write porn without plot, always shoving in feelings everywhere.

part i. my heart for thought.

the day before the fight between tenjiku and toman, all men close to you meet up for dinner at your apartment. a tradition dear to you ever since they were boys, with so much anger on their cupped hands spilled in the violence that filled their every desire. yet, not a single drop ever splashed onto you, their touch soft albeit drenched in murderous blood.

paths crossed after stumbling upon their formation, running away from a crowd of high school boys —at the time way older and bigger— you were the reason for their first conquest as tenjiku. a bond forged with the vivid red of your hearts’, the black of the darkness that surrounds them and the white of the ray of hope you offer.

ever since then you’ve been friends, the closest ones could ever be. your heartbeats merged; a yearning for your warmth naive. presence leaving traces of heat on their cheeks, some dark red much like their uniforms.

however, time passes, and before you now stand men. knuckles bruised and innocence gone, viciousness part of their hearts along with the thirst for a bigger power. and even then, a big chunk of their hearts and souls has never left your hands, having them crave more strongly —never understanding what they even wanted.

also having grown with them, with each year your fear has only grounded itself further. roots wrapping around your feet and having you stay put as the world they have constructed opened itself to you. screams laced in agony and tears reflecting sadness, you were aware one day those sadistic grins would perish. the thought eats you alive night and day, in your nightmares and dreams.

it wasn’t the loneliness that scared you, but the idea of losing the blood that pumps your heart. romantically, there’s nothing (or so you say); despite that, the strings that connected you to them are thicker —tough to break and more tense than they have ever been.

so tense they could come undone and tie themselves back up to a bond that’s even mightier. but nothing can make them crumble, you are sure of it.

“i don’t want you guys to fight tomorrow.” you leave your words to hang in the air, washed in the scent of loitering takeout boxes, steam circling around them.

outside, the vast darkness is splattered by dots of light. not following a pattern, entangled in their dance, two stars farther than the rest. in the wide crystals that separate your group from the cold winter night, calmness is reflected.

you barely whisper, but their attention is always on you, so to them it was as loud as a scream. a plead for tranquility to finally settle, heart stripped to vulnerability.

“why the hell not?” shion retorts, although his tone isn’t mad nor pissed off. eyes on you, like they’ve always been, feasting on your pouting lips.

he keeps the head shake to himself, chopsticks navigating through his food to keep his mind occupied. nevertheless, the plopping sounds coming from the boxed noodles have him swallowing down an invisible lump in his throat.

“have a bad feeling, dunno.” shrugging, you mumble, dulcet to combat shion’s unconscious roughness. a gesture he silently thanks, chest constricted inside of him.

not having touched the food tonight, your hands rest in heavy fists on top of your thighs. your stomach mocks you, feasting on the concern that drops upon it, twisting in giddiness that makes itself painful to you. the living room’s icy kisses bring you shivers, its presence heavy.

when the younger haitani scoffs, forcing you out of the mortal trap that are your thoughts, you notice the piercing ache in your head from your harsh wrinkles in between furrowed brows. you don’t want them to misinterpret your worrying for anger —not that they would— the curve they form now more upset.

“nothing will happen.” rindou waves your fear off with a lazy hand from his place in one of the couches. the smile he gifts you gives a tender hug, so joyful and relaxed. “as long as you’re alive, none of us could ever think of leaving you.”

they don’t need to say it out loud; they all agree.

on the other hand, you offer rindou a smile of your own. it’s nervous, trembling while it holds itself up, but ravishing in his eyes. swimming in a vivid purple, his pupils grow bigger, lights reflecting a desire for your wellbeing —a desire for you.

his words can do wonders, and while it may be just for a short time, you can proclaim there’s been an instant tonight where you’ve felt everything would be alright. the world sure wasn’t ending tomorrow, not when that same world declares it won’t. no matter what, all because of you.

yet it’s all in your eyes, wide and averting. the terror has taken over you like a parasite, taking more than sweet words to get rid of.

“yeah, we’re plenty strong!” mochi exclaims, his grin triumphant. arm lifted, he flexes it with pride to which shion rolls his eyes, but the short snort you utter makes it worth it. “what, you don’t trust us?”

your eyes broaden even more when you hear his dejected question, his smirk fallen into a disappointed frown. you shake your head, rapidly so. trusting their strength; with your heart in their hands, you don’t want it to suffer.

throughout the years, the bond that connects you to them has proven to be ever growing. your mind, body and soul as much of a part of them as your own. same for them, who have given all of those to you when all you knew were their names. if it were to be severed, something within you would die, and if it happened to morph into a more passionate craving —one none of you answer to nor understand— you’d fear for the unknown future, and the growth within your heart.

“it’s not that, i’m ju— just—“ you don’t mean to stumble upon your words, the same way you don’t want them to think you can’t leave fate on their calloused hands. taking a deep breath, you gulp. “just—“

but your words are deep in your chest, unable to get out. your gaze glistens, honing onto your fidgeting hands, blinking any trace of the soon to come tears. the bad omen only makes its presence more evident to you, poking its ugly tongue, invisible to anyone else in the living room. it’s real, vivid, and it makes you—

“scared?” it’s mucho who completes your train of thought in your stead, always listening to your heart, inviting him to the confines of your mind.

he’s never needed many words, his gaze hungry for the knowledge of you. and when you nod, answering his query, his expression relaxes. although only when your terror has truly subsided, will he rest peacefully.

“i’m terrified.” you confess, the moon at its highest peak in the darkest sea. voice thin, breakable with a simple touch.

they loathe it, your distress. a stab to their hearts even when someone else’s fright pumps it back to life. to them, that was love, caging your fragile heart in their arms so that their backs take all the damage.

a hushed promise is shared between all of them, one to save you from that dismay, no matter what it takes or how it’s done. it’s sealed, and so is the night’s fate.

there’s shuffling, muted steps silent against the floor below. in front of you stand a pair of black socks, looking up to come across the diminished violet hues of izana. a deep color honed in violence, shining with anger that once glimmered with joy. ruined by the big heart of who he thought was his brother, so eager to bring up mikey to the life they shared —their secrets, their bond, broken by the youngest’s toothy grin.

alas, you haven’t been tainted by his ill-fated hands yet, secured by his own presence. his hand, small but grounding, delicate despite how many punches it has thrown at the world around him. all blood is cleaned, resting on your thigh, caressing your skin.

an electrifying touch, much like the others’, having you sweat. heat on your face, heart hungry, but you’ve never given it much thought. you’ve always loved them, willing for the emptiness of your body to fill itself with yearning so as to not sacrifice what was carefully built.

izana speaks in gentle promises and strong declarations. he doesn’t sugarcoat what’s intense, allowing it to crush whoever hears him, wanting his love to be known. you know they do love you, but the blind eye you all turn to when it comes to the dissatisfaction of your desires will always yell louder.

“we love you, so much.” more than you could know, the silence completes, unheard.

you find the hidden words with ease, nothing will happen to us, he says, and what izana says, goes. but they are blind to the scythe in the middle of the room, itching to spin around and take its next victim. and you know, between you and those whose red jackets bleed, the result will always be one of them.

“enough to drop the fight?” you counter, your decisive frown challenging them. deepening once izana gives a slow shake of his head.

“enough to refuse to die.”

his response isn’t as reassuring as you would have liked, no matter how deep his words puncture. he gives your flesh a firm squeeze, eyes widening at the tight grip on your thigh.

clearing his throat, he turns back to his place on the couch. a small smirk, concealed as triumph when all it really shows is satisfaction. actions given out to make you forget the disappointment due to his answer.

you sit there, missing the warmth of his presence; the contact on your skin. cravings come back up, like bile stuck to your throat. you need to keep it away, as you have always done.

gulping, you focus on the clock’s ticking. small conversations are carried out between them: shion’s obnoxious laughter and rindou’s childish chuckles, the serenity of mucho’s presence, mochi’s boyish pride, the veiled kindness izana attempts to hide or ran’s attentive listening that you know makes him caring —even though he sometimes uses all he knows to poke fun at them.

you love tenjiku, even kakucho, who couldn’t be there tonight. his spot is empty, unoccupied, chopsticks untouched on top of the table. you don’t care, keeping him close to your heart as well.

“i’ll protect them, always.” mumbling, ran’s lips curve up into a smile full of fondness. adoration sparkling the hyacinth tint of his pupils, capturing the memories of the people he treasures for himself.

your own smile engraved on his mind forever, one he makes sure will always stay that way. along the light in your eyes, never dimming despite their company. you make them forget what they are, and what friends would they be if they don’t return the favor?

dinner ends when the moon is at the brightest peak of her journey. between indistinctive chatter you all clean up, the suffocating smell of food consumed by the strong winds from the ajar window.

goodbyes happen as they have done ever since the beginning. strong hugs that last longer than usual this time, pressing you closer to them, some hiding the goosebumps caused by your nose against the side of their necks. others decant for kisses on your cheek, lips so different but exuding the same elation —the exact same passion that burns you from the inside out.

the door opens; you wish for this night to keep going. a reckless dream that should have been more precise.

“i love you guys.” through wobbly words, you manage to say in a flimsy voice. stare avoiding theirs, and lips pressed together tightly. “thank you, for being in my life.”

you blink, trying to dry off your watery eyes. back of your hand wiping them, getting rid of any trace of tears. your heartbeat quickens its pace, moving its way up to your throat, unable to add anything else.

but you turn to them, fear aside, wanting to take one more look before the inevitable happens. and when you do, you come across their gaping mouths and reddish blushes, their hearts going so crazy they are just as speechless. something was different, less friendly; more intricate.

it’s shion who breaks the silence, knowing that if any of them were to touch you now, what would happen could break what was so carefully tied together. they hated to fight against what they wanted, but they could never win if it meant for everything to crumble to pieces.

the world was so unfair, depriving all of you of the purest of loves, and the night to seal it off.

“you’re gonna make me blush, cutie.” shion smirks, more a grimace than anything else, turning around to walk towards the elevator. with an aching heart and disappointment, the others follow his lead too.

“yeah, he’s gonna have to go home quickly to beat his meat in peace.” mochi snorts, their backs to you, leaving you to listen to their forced chuckles.

“oh shut the fuck up! you don’t want me to start talking.” threat dangerous enough to have mochi’s mouth shut, you dread for the moment the elevator arrives. maybe it’s for the best, as all fun has now turned sour, frustrations hard to hide in each and every expression.

you loathe this departure, the bad feeling hugging you so close you choke on your misfortune and the emptiness in your body and soul. no choice but to sit back on your couch, loveless and alone, dreading for horrible news you are sure will end up coming true.

the elevator dings, doors opening wide. before they close, all of them spare you one last look, blended in sadness and failure, for your fear persists in your shaking figure and your pleading eyes. maybe they should have kissed you so hard, you have nothing on your mind but that. filling your thoughts with each of them, helping you sleep, doing whatever it takes. but they can’t do any of that.

after all, you’re just their bestest friend. a step they’re satisfied standing in, or they convince themselves they are, at least. but has there ever been someone to stay in the middle of some stairs, waiting forever for something to happen, not making their way up themselves?

the elevator closes; so does your door. the spare key still in its place inside the potted plant by the entrance.

part ii. my body for dinner.

your bedroom welcomes you with a cold hearted hug, having you wrap your arms around yourself. the huge windows make way for the night painted in streaks of melancholy, the city below so lively; you so dejected.

giving your bed a single glance, you can already tell sleep won’t be coming tonight nor tomorrow. your love is laughable to you, shy and unwilling to make itself braver, sticking to comfort.

what’s so comforting about the loneliness you are doomed to drown in? where no helping hands remain alive to pick you up, having no choice but to join the men you love in death?

tonight will be full of these thoughts, you know that, yet they still hurt. each a stab to your body, a mockery at your soul. every ounce of positivity you try to get out of your system mere carnage to them. it had to be today, you should have crossed that line that unconsciously formed.

allowed them to come closer to you. much like shion’s calloused hands and their cold touch creeping up from behind you, covering your eyes and whispering close to your ear.

“boo!” you shriek, shoulders tense as you jump up in place. however shion’s hold is tough to get rid of, pulling you closer to him without coming across his chest. he wouldn’t have bitten back the moan that was sure to happen.

he laughs, everybody joining right after. you take a deep breath, huffing through their laughter with a hand to your chest. though you don’t want to admit, your heart’s elated at their appearance —at the fact they have come back for you.

“shion, what the hell’s your problem?” it comes out louder than intended, shrill and angry. to them, it’s obvious you don’t mean it. your brows furrow, scowling at the group of men you can’t see. “and why did you guys come back?”

when shion’s lips lean closer to your ear, hot breath fanning the side of your face, your voice falters. the question dies out, tongue starting to dry. you have to suppress the filthy little sound you almost let out when he nibbles on your earlobe.

“you knew it was me?” you gulp when his voice turns deeper, lowered to a darkened pitch that you are ashamed to admit has gone down to your core. room growing hotter. the icy loneliness dissipated the moment they all walked back in, and even so your nipples are erect against your top.

you want to blame it on the cold, but you aren’t fooling any of them with that excuse. instead, you try to turn the situation around, gaining control and drawing another line.

“you didn’t answer my question.”

“you didn’t answer his.” bold as ever, izana takes the control off your hands unapologetically so. previous fondness gone, reserved in his heart for his full desires to let loose. at least, it’s what they all promised to do before clicking your floor’s button again.

deciding against remarking that you did ask first, you take one last deep breath. it’s filling and calming, not easing your erratic beating but doing wonders to clear your head. you don’t know what to do, having them all on your side, a stupid line long forgotten. is giving in to them your best choice?

or rather— is what you have always wanted the best choice?

with your next answer, soft spoken and sincere, you have erased any chance of such a line existing again. the fate of the night has been set, written in the stars watching behind your windows. destiny promised to the moon, gifting all of you the pleasure you’ve been seeking for.

“of course i know it’s him. i know each and every one of you.” because you love them, and because they love you so much too, they’ll help you without a doubt. in the nastiest way they can, but they’ll keep that to themselves.

for a brief second, shion’s hands leave your face to have you see them all. with barely any time to register the image of their eager eyes and hungry mouths, you are grabbed by the aforementioned and pushed to the bed, where you are now sitting on his lap. hands back to your eyes, nerves corrupting your mind.

biting back a whimper when your ass inevitably bumps into his clothed crotch, you notice shion’s breath staggers as well. it’s not too evident yet, but you know his cock will turn much harder, the wet kiss he gives your nape leaving a trail of goosebumps down your back.

you press your thighs —already close together— much harsher. the friction isn’t helping, but you don’t want shion to feel your throbbing cunt at the thought of what could happen. of what is sure to happen.

“we know you’d be awake tonight, still scared of us dying.” izana’s voice, under the sturdy curtain of playfulness, carries heed. their eagerness however, mixes in to give the atmosphere a knot of tension that must be undone. forming for years, but so fragile. “we want to help you forget, for you to relax.”

he doesn’t specify how they’ll do that; you don���t want to ask either. their response comes in heavy footsteps, a presence stopping right ahead of you, breaths heavy and fervent. then, your own breathing halts, leaning towards the anticipating uncertainty.

a hand is tamely placed on your cheek. huge, with big long fingers, and cosy, making you lean your head towards his hold. touch mild despite the brutality you know it unleashes, but you bathe in the traces lit up with craving fire as it slides down your face. moving down towards your chest, where a single finger circles around your covered boobs, crossing to your nipples to play with their hardness. his thumb joins to pinch one, your muted moan silenced by shion’s groaning at your ass’ moving.

“do you know who’s touching you now?” the latter wonders, tone low and full of need. through quick breaths he regains his composure, but his straining cock calls for your pulsating cunt so desperately.

unknown hand making its way below, it stops right above your clothed pussy. with its lone force he parts your legs apart, giving light slaps to the thin fabric of your pijama. you hum, leaning your head back to shion’s shoulder, legs making more way for the hand to go deeper.

it does, taking the hem of your pants and sliding them down to your ankles, where you make quick work to get rid of them. your panties are on full display, the darkened spot from your arousal a feast for their eyes. his lone finger once again slides against your underwear, the damp circle having the boy licking his dry lips. meddling with your entrance, but never quite entering, you want to beg him too, so badly. thought scrapped when his finger presses through to the wet mess that is your sex.

“yasuhiro…” you whisper, a primal want dressing it as a throaty moan leaving you to shudder in place. the mention of his first name, uttered so airily, sends blood rushing straight to his cock, giving an angry twitch silenced by his pants.

whining when mucho’s finger leaves your arousal, moving up to the hem of your panties, it singlehandedly pulls them down. legs moving to aid him in taking them off, letting the cool air be the first to taste your naked folds, covered in shining slick as it begins to clench around nothing.

“you want us that much, it’s good to know.” mucho declares, underwear pending on his index finger as he shows it to the rest, too distracted on your bare wetness. he discards it somewhere across the room, the sound of his voice so sensual to your growing impatience. “we want you so much, too.”

easy to tell by your dampened shoulder, where shion has let out a glob of his drool at the sight of you. fully hard cock pressed against your bare ass, rubbing your plump skin as he swallows all spit from his hunger. you don’t care, clenching your jaw at the absence of attention at yourself, your hands still as you know it wouldn’t be enough.

“such a beautiful pussy, so wet and needy.” is all mucho says before leaving your side, having you want to cling onto him and pull him closer with your wrapped legs. nevertheless, a new pair of hands rest on your thighs, just as big but way softer. tender skin well taken care of, rubbing your flesh near your core.

he’s graceful with his ministrations, long fingers ghosting over your clit. it’s easy to tell who carries himself with such elegance, dainty hands so curious yet sure of what to do. confirmed when his tongue licks its way up your cunt, lapping at your slick folds and sucking the plump flesh.

his tongue penetrates you, curling around to reach every spot it can get. you convulse around him, his insatiable mouth never getting enough of your slit, taking all the juices he can get. you wrap your legs around him, imprisoning him to your pussy. being barely able to register shion’s questioning, so eager to get an answer out of you.

“do you know who’s eating you out? can you tell?” you don’t say a word, poking your tongue out as you can only let out strangled noises. muttered cries for more, drool falling out of the corners of your lips.

your lack of a response isn’t welcomed. the confirmation of who’s hungrily devouring you coming when his pointy nose flickers your clit. choking your sobs at the tightness on your lower stomach, so willing to come undone as you buck your hips into his face —a feeble try to ride his big nose.

“oh—fuck!” you cry out, hearing the braided man slurping on your slick. cunt pulsing, begging for something more to fill it with. hands to the top of his head, ruining his perfectly combed hair with your grip. “ran, it’s ran!”

and for a job well done, he leaves your pussy unattended to give your clit a thankful kiss, resounding in the silent room. you hate it when his strength is much more than your own, pulling away from your hold. all the buildup inside you for naught.

shion’s tongue moves fast to wipe out your saliva, cleaning your lips and replacing the shine with his own. offering a chaste kiss to your cheek, at the same time that ran licks his lips with a content sigh.

“tastes so good, could eat her for hours.” he tells the rest. savoring the flavor of you inside his mouth, he gathers what is left around his lips and nose.

without much time to prepare for what’s next, as everyone in the room has grown eager to have you, your body writhes from the disturbance of a thick, prodding finger inside your cunt. walls squeezing the single digit, unmoving, a victorious grin on the man’s face at the spectacle you offer by thrusting your hips into his finger —fucking yourself with it.

shion’s breezy moans in the background don’t help his case in having the voice of the group. recomposing himself from the implacable grinding his dick receives. this time, he stutters, his hold on you turning frail. he doesn’t sound so cocky now, restraint crumbling without having any hands to pick it up with.

“a—and do you know whose finger is in— si—inside you right now?” he finishes with one long inhale, teeth biting his bottom lip.

on the other hand, you fight off the brimming tears in your eyes with your grinding. lengthy finger shoved in fully so that his knuckles are pressed against you, bruised and battered. less kept together but so welcomed by your walls anyway.

“mo—mochi.” you answer almost immediately, hopeful that he would do something to reward you for it. for his finger to pound you relentlessly until you finally cum. the thought alone sends you to clench around him, asking for more.

but mochi turns out to be sadistic, taking out his finger coated in your essence. you don’t see how he brings it up to his mouth, taking it fully to lap at your slick with an echoing pop. your breath hitches, shion’s pants now wearing darker stains.

“no first name for me?” he mocks you, teasing grin growing wider. silence greets him, and he does well to beat it by causing the first scream of the long night ahead. shoving three of his fingers inside your cunt, unannounced.

they curl, setting a merciless pace of back and forth to reach as deep as he can. the squelching sounds accompanied by your uncontrollable moans, high pitched and cursing out. the pressure builds once again in your stomach, back arching so his tough fingers can keep touching you in every spot possible.

“ah! kanji— sorry, so sorry kanji!” you beg for him to forgive you, spewing out apology after apology between the growing tears and trailing drool.

“it’s ok sweetheart, i love you.” he reassures you. so nice to you, your walls thank him by closing in on him. so good for him, leaving him to grunt from how obedient you are being.

“love you t—“ you want to tell him and the rest of them, in all its glory now that all limits have been broken and left behind.

however, rindou seems to have other plans, shoving mochi away not caring about his shouted protests nor your mewling at the emptiness of your pussy once again. orgasm denied for the second time, rindou’s weight bringing you to lie down on top of shion, lips chasing after your own.

they join together in a feverish kiss, viciousness bringing you two to a world of just both. lips tasting one another; tongues playing with each other, in such an aggressive way spit makes it way down your mouths and to your bumping chins. noses hitting as rindou tries to get even closer to you.

shion’s hands are forced out of your eyes, having you witness in the dead of the night, swimming in darkness, the pile of clothes by the bed. the men are all in front, almost naked if it weren’t for their underwear. doing little to cover their blazing erections.

“want you s’bad.” he breaks the kiss, a thin string of saliva connecting the two of you. mumbled so close to your lips, he takes yours in his without hesitation, teeth clashing and tongues entangled.

you wrap your arms around his neck, fingers ghosting over the streaks of black ink swirling through his back. muscles tense, he groans in your mouth and lowers his hips to your core. clothed cock rubbing against your folds, looking for more friction as he moves faster.

beside you, shion undresses, glancing over to rindou picking you up to kneel ahead of him, arms wrapped around your waist. empty thumps are heard from his grinding, and he decides to crawl his way behind you to help him in getting rid of your top.

effortlessly, they succeed in having you be the first to be completely naked. both men ogling your body up and down. your curves, every inch and crevice of your skin a feast for all of them. some palming their cocks through the fabric, others like rindou and shion, marking you with their mouths.

“so divine.” rindou mumbles, his arms and shion’s controlling your squirming from pleasure. hot breath trailing down to your naked boobs, hands drawing shapes on your flesh. “gorgeous body, all for us.”

you want to nod, instead drooling at their two hard cocks caging you between them. shion grabbing your ass cheek, playing with the molding skin by stiffening his grip. you moan their names, the covered contact insufficient.

“want your cocks, want you inside please.” begging for them, your hands make their way down to grab at their clothed dicks. both men pant, fingers wrapped around their lengths, feeling their hardened girths. “please fuck me.”

and with that said, both of them take off their underwear to have it join the rest of sprawled out clothes. in the dim lighting, with only the moon and the stars as witnesses, only the sparkling light in your pupils guides you to your instincts. so famished, tongue watering at rindou’s erected cock, intimidating as it stands —starving for your pussylips.

he’s big and very thick, a single protruding vein running down his length. red, angry tip, leaking precum and leaving it to slide down to pool around the base of his shaft. balls full and large, saliva drowning your mouth.

shion doesn’t stay far behind, not as big and way thinner, curving slightly to the right. his veins aren’t as marked but there are many, cockhead thick and itching to bury itself inside you. fat drop of precum waiting to fall into the mattress.

with a hand he guides his member to your folds, gathering all the wetness he can get. having you moan against rindou’s mouth, drowning any sound, you pull away to taste shion’s lips as well. spit mixing in with your eager tongues, hearing him swallow.

“can’t wait anymore.” you hear rindou complain, tip prodding at your entrance as he begins to penetrate you. a content sigh leaving your lips, whole length making its way past your tightened walls, cock molding the shape of your cunt to adjust to his size.

bottoming out, cockhead brushing your cervix, you and rindou moan in unison at eachother’s warmth. walls squeezing him so hard, his own cock buried in your wet pussy —the pressure so tempting to have you thrust against him.

and you do, bucking your hips onto his twitching cock, balls slapping your skin to create the filthiest of sounds. wet plops from rindou’s pace sending you into a frenzy, meeting his rhythm so that the coiling tension thickens and explodes into your orgasm.

“taking me in so well— fuck—“ although you can’t register rindou’s praises too well, shion’s rutting against your ass beginning to change into the intrusion of his dick inside your hole. pushing his way in with a single thrust —your very own slick acting out as lube.

you yell out his name when he hisses yours, spreading your ass open as his cock splits you apart. both holes completely filled, hints of pain slapped off by rindou’s fastening pumps. gripping shion so well, clenching around his girth and feeling every vein slide past your heated flesh.

“too much! s’good…” you cry out, the first set of tears coming out from your shut eyes. joining the threads of saliva you can’t keep in your mouth, mixing in on their way down your face.

the single vein running down rindou’s shaft ravages your walls so roughly. their tempo matching so that you never feel utterly empty, balls shaking with each snap of their hips. ecstasy choking you when rindou’s tip kisses your g-spot, relentlessly going at it so that more tears stain your vision —hazy and blurry.

you can distinguish izana’s nearing body, hand on his cock while he gives it a few pumps. he leans closer to your face, same fingers coated in his cum wiping your closed eyes. painting your face, you hum, growing hot as you convulse around both of the men’s cocks. answering you by pulsing through your clenching walls.

“these are the tears i love to see.” giving his finger a kitten lick, saltiness of your pleasure melting in his tongue, izana takes your limp hand and brings it up to his dick. “want to shower your face with my cum. you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

you nod, hand taking his cock and stroking it with deep movements. barely keeping it together with the sloppy pace both cocks inside you are falling into, forcing you to sometimes squeeze his length, drawing out throaty moans from the dark skinned man.

your cool fingers gliding past his searing meat make of him a fervent mess, hips bucking to fuck himself with your hand. head on rindou’s shoulder, you stare at his own tilted back, adam’s apple bobbing as your name is the only thing his lips can say.

“cutie your ass is so tight.” shion drags his cock out with difficulty, hole so adamant in keeping him in. only his tip rests inside, forcing your ass to remember his shape. “gonna fill it up, alright?”

he doesn’t leave room for answers, burying himself deep inside until your vision turns blind. rindou’s cock mimicking his actions, growing at the thought of your cunt taking all of his cum.

“gonna cum—“ you spit out, rindou’s shoulder welcoming your saliva and tears, joining his thin layer of sweat. “cumming, i’m cumming!”

“me too.” it escapes past his kissing teeth, the tremors of your body having him give one last powerful thrust before stilling inside of you. rolling his eyes, his risen shoulders relax once his orgasm crashes upon him. “keep it inside for me, will you?”

you do, for both of them emptying themselves inside of you. hot strings of sticky cum crawling into your holes, painting your walls white and having them spasm and contract as you let your own orgasm wash rindou’s length. he doesn’t let it run out, fucking the union of your juices back into you, not a single drop wasted. feeling so full, heaving out praises to both blushing boys.

“our good girl.” shion pats your head, soft kiss on your back and hands fondling your tits. you regain your breath still by rindou’s shoulder, knowing it’s not over yet with the way izana’s cockhead nears your face.

the two boys’ cocks leave your holes the moment izana’s twitches. releasing his load on your face, reaching your lashes, forehead and cheeks. streaks of cum painting your skin in a dense white, giving the last touch to your fucked out expression.

“god i love you so much.” admiring his work, and the way your cunt and asshole fight desperately to keep shion and rindou’s seeds. his smile broadens at the thought that this is just getting started.

indeed, mochi’s next in taking you into his arms, so small compared to his size. you don’t have time to regain your breath, composure crushed by the brutality of the s-62, quivering at mochi’s frosting hands.

“so sensitive already, sweetheart.” and so easy to handle, too. moving you as he pleases, lying down on the bed and having you on his chest, right above his underwear and bulging cock.

the big stain of precum is evident on the light grey fabric. an enormous bump waiting to be freed of its confined space. dark, trimmed hairs leading the way to his aching dick. your hands on his abs, stroking his built chest and floating up to his pecs.

his hands cup your ass, thumbs kneading the plush skin and hovering over your widened hole. you feel his dick jump up, taming him with a rock of your body pushed by your legs. he groans, guttural desire drying out his throat, starving for your glistening folds.

“can take it.” you promise him, small whisper loud in the quietude of your room. where the men touch themselves to the landscape of the shade of your figure plastered on the bright nightlife ahead of your windows.

he chuckles, vibrating chest so good for your throbbing pussy, waking up his cock even more. a hand trails up to your face, big thumb pinning your bottom lip. his tongue wetting his lips.

“course you will.” he says it like it’s obvious, dragging down the swollen lip until your bottom teeth can be seen. fingers full of your saliva, drying patches from the previous crying making you look so filthy. exactly how he likes it. “want these lips around my big cock, gonna give you a full meal.”

grabbing onto your hips, he turns you around with one swift twirl. pulling your ass closer to him, legs on each side of his face lifting your lower body, back arching as you are laid down in front of his underwear. clenching around nothing at the compromising position, mochi’s first to dig in to your cunt —tongue flickering your clit so erratically, you purr.

alas, you now have to fully undress him, taking the rim of his clothes and sliding them to the middle of his crushing thighs. he wriggles his legs, aiding you in taking them off completely, widely grinning against your pussy when you gasp at the full size of his erection.

standing furiously near his chest, where your chin hovers above his pubes. the size is enormous, so thick and dressed in many veins that draw intricate curves on his meat, making him even wider. mushroom tip prominent, broad slit already seeping out so much precum. fat plumps of a dirtied white gliding down his whole length, pooling around his base where even bigger, heavy balls rest. your mouth waters at just how much cum he will give you, hurrying up when the tip of his nose lightly teases your entrance.

your hand takes his shaft, whimpering when you see the struggle your fingers have wrapping around it. you pump it once— twice, mochi’s groaning so good for your cunt, going down on his nose so that the tip enters you. when your lips near his head to give it open mouth kisses, wet plops taking bits of his salty cum, your hand holds his balls, playing with them as they barely fit inside.

you take his tip in your mouth, warmth enveloping his cock as you try to move down on him. only taking almost half of his length, breathing through your nose and hollowing out your cheeks, easing your throat as his hips buckle onto your face. his moaning going straight to your pussy, where he begins to grow desperate slurping on your juices. noises nasty, making you moan and tighten your throat on his cock. tongue darting to lick every crevice, drooling so much it accumulates at the base.

both continue the rhythm of your grinding bodies, building your climaxes and chasing after them. hunger making you frantic, savoring every bit of essence as if it were your last meals.

“looks so pretty.” you listen to mucho’s voice on your back, his hand on one of your cheeks. “but i think you can take more.”

he declares it so impassively, keeping his cool as always, that you don’t see his hand raised and profoundly slapping your ass. it jiggles, closing in on mochi’s pointed tongue licking slow stripes. you scream, muted against the wet heat in your mouth. another hand joins mucho, this time being ran’s long finger entering your ass, so sensitive from shion’s stretching not long ago.

both of their fingers buried knuckles deep, a third hand slaps you once again as they begin to stimulate your hole. their ministrations along with mochi’s starved devouring pushing you to take more of the latter’s dick, gagging through parted lips as you take him fully —choking on his tip at the very back of your throat.

nose pressed against his bouncing balls, fucking your face as you do the same to his nose and tongue. your chin scratched by the bush near his shaft, you cry out feeble attempts of his name as more spit leaves your lips, fat tears joining.

“there we go pretty!” seems the third hand belongs to izana, cheering you through the orgasm that pours down onto mochi’s face. giving one more hard slap that sends your skin tingling, trapping mucho and ran’s fingers on your ass, finally letting loose.

you come undone, flooding mochi’s face with your cum and crushing his face with your thighs. he doesn’t seem to care, lapping at your cum without shame, drinking it until nothing is left out, before joining you and snapping his hips to release his load.

it’s dense, so much cum leaving his cock you can barely swallow it all. hot spurts abusing your throat, leaving thick trails out the corners of your lips that you’ll take care of later. it keeps fluttering, but never once you leave it unattended, making sure all of his semen is sucked dry. breathing in when you let it go, tip of your tongue gathering what little is around your lips.

you swallow it down loudly, the echoing plop from your mouth leaving his cock free so gratifying for his ears. he gives your cunt a mellow kiss, tenderness fighting off his roughness.

“good girl.” he coos, readjusting you as he pleases so that you now lie in his direction, ass against his still hard cock. he holds your chin and turns your head around to his, deeply kissing you, passing down the rest of your orgasm so you can taste the sweetness he did. “we love you so much, you are perfect for us.”

and you smile, fond and big it has their hearts pounding in their chests. you kiss the tip of his nose, giddy from their worship.

however, mochi moves up so that his head rests on your pillow. hands tracing patterns on your skin, watching your stomach rise from the harsh breaths you are taking.

“got one more in me.” he mutters close to your ear, feet parting your legs open, showing the rest your abused holes. “will you be a sweetheart and take it?”

how can you deny him when he asks so politely? previous fingering helping you for what will happen now, cock rubbing through your ass cheeks, willing to take his big dick to split you apart. pushing in, slowly making his way through unlike shion’s desperate entrance.

you wriggle in his hold, mochi shushing you by whispering sweet nothings into your ear. wailing at the size you have to adjust to, a little easier thanks to shion. your cum stained face is full of fresh tears and brand new globs of spit. tongue lolling out of your parted lips when he bottoms out.

buried deep inside your ass, filling you to the brim with each thick vein hitting you just right. your squinted eyes widen tremendously at mochi’s calling, gripping him so tightly at the idea of being torn apart by the two biggest.

“mucho, wanna join in? she wants it.” and he doesn’t hesitate to crawl up to where you are, underwear long gone. his cock isn’t much different from mochi’s, less thicker but way longer, looking so delicious against his chiseled chest.

he takes your legs, having them bend down near your shoulders, leaving so much room to hit even deeper. entranced by your wet cunt, glossy and begging for his cock to break it. and who is he to say no to his woman?

in one swift plunge, he finds himself buried to the hilt. balls swinging as the sound of smacking flesh from his ruthless penetration elicits the most pornographic moan he has ever heard from you. massaging his cock just the way he likes it, sponging walls enclosing the space and making him feel impossibly closer.

“so fucking tight— god, fuck!” he growls, pushing you to mochi’s chest, boobs pressed against mucho’s big —worked out— pecs. sandwiched between both men, ruining your insides just by staying still, you sob for them to ruin you —to move faster.

“s’big… ‘s too big—” your incoherent mumbles become higher in tone, allowing them to rock your body as they please. trying to meet their hips as they pound you dumb, reckless rocking making you cry out in ecstasy. “lov— love you s’much. luv your cocks s’much.”

your babbling pushes them to thrust harder. having you whine when mucho stops and his hand lightly slaps your cum covered cheek, calling for your attention. you look up at him, teary eyes sending heat straight to his cock, throbbing against your cunt.

“you see that?” he points down at your belly, a small bulge making it stick out. you take your hand to trace its shape, a silent chuckle gifting hints of happiness to your fucked out face. “that’s my cock, babygirl.”

and you love it, he knows you do. picking up his pace to meet mochi’s, so engrossed in your ass. he doesn’t want this moment to end.

you don’t notice how both of your hands are taken by shion and rindou, hard once again. but they know you don’t care when each hand takes their cocks, already familiar to you, beginning to masturbate them. their moaning helping your orgasm build up, this time stronger, with mucho ruthlessly pounding against your g-spot.

your head turns to the side, coming face to face with ran’s dick. he slaps you with it, playing with your hanging tongue by wetting it with your saliva. you stare up at his innocent grin, him looking down with dilated pupils.

“there’s still a hole unoccupied.” he simply mentions, cock twitching when your hand pulls the foreskin back to expose his angry head. so pale and long you don’t know what you’ll do to make it fit. curving up, he applies his precum to your lips like gloss, pushing in with his hips until he’s balls deep into your mouth.

body used by all of them, including izana whose hands are on your swollen clit, it doesn’t take long for your legs to begin their uncontrollable tremble. this time’s different, your moans turning into shrill shouting as a stream of tears run down your eyes, closed in bliss as you begin to see stars.

your third orgasm hits you harder than any other, right after mochi cums for the second time filling you up to the brim with his huge loads. you begin squirting all over mucho’s cock, squelching sounds getting wetter as more and more cum leaves out of you in hot spurts. he takes it out, watching as you make a mess of mochi’s legs, the mattress and his abs.

“shit!” you moan out, cum gliding down mucho’s cock that has entered you again. though your words are muffled by ran’s dick around your lips, you continue squirting out all your juices, milking out mucho’s cock in the process.

he has so much cum too, cunt stuffed full of his own after your mind blowing orgasm. balls drenched as well, but his smile tells you enough, and you don’t feel ashamed of it —even better, only proud.

pulling away, despite mochi’s cock still buried into your ass, he leaves your chest free for shion and rindou, who don’t take too long in covering your tits and stomach with their loads. satisfied groans out of their lips as they admire their work, thick globs of white on your sweaty skin.

ran’s the last to empty out his cum, doing it inside your mouth much like mochi. you take it all without hesitation, opening wide for him to see you gulping down his seed. uttering a sigh when you’ve eaten it fully, kissing the tip of his cock for a job well done.

“nasty little whore.” you have no idea who says it, the loss of mochi’s dick as he comes out of you taking over your mind. oozing cum follows, filthy trickles running down into your cunt, where you do a good job in retaining what they have given you. “our perfect slut, should’ve done this sooner.”

you agree, spent after three rough orgasms. alas, you see two men staying on the bed —two men that haven’t been inside of you yet. but you are so sore you don’t know if you can take them. such big cocks just like the rest of them.

“we want to taste you, too.” it’s ran’s voice, the one he uses when he wants something. turning innocent, words so tender they heal your tiredness with dulcet touches. you hate when he does that, falling for it every time. “you’ll let us, right? we’ll be gentle, i promise.”

your moans are so loud with each touch, both izana and ran standing you up on your knees, between both of their bodies. you teeter, head tumbling towards the man you have in front, which turns out to be the older haitani. shoulder so comfortable, you nuzzle closer to the side of his neck, kissing it.

your pussy takes him right up, so tight despite being so used throughout the night. he’s washed in the remains of your orgasm, easy for him to move, but he doesn’t. you wonder why, whining against his neck and jumping on his cock, legs quivering so hard you know it won’t take you much to cum again.

instead, a second cock makes its way up your cunt, having you scream out for your fourth orgasm at the close fit of both dicks inside your pussy. they rub one another, not appearing to care too much as both of their eyes are closed, jaws clenched. you squeeze them, adjusting to their size and ignoring the pain for the cum sliding down past them.

you’re crying, tears licked by izana’s tongue as he rejoices in them. no longer are you sobbing from fear, but so destroyed by each and every one of them you have nothing left of you but scorching pleasure.

“already?” he purrs, dragging his cock out just to thrust once more. skin gliding past ran’s veiny shaft, making him move as well, desperate for his release. “but you’ll let us cum, won’t you? after we’ve been so good to you…”

he trails off, falling into rhythm with ran, abusing your cunt for a little while longer. convulsing against them, forcing them closer, tightening your walls so that you can get out another orgasm for them. to show how grateful you are.

“we’ve been so helpful, haven’t we?” he slaps your clit, ran’s lips latching onto your nipples, sucking them clean. chest pressed on his own, sticky cum joining your bodies.

“yes! want you to cum in me.” you cry out, hips meeting their thrusts, bouncing on both of their cocks, balls slapping your pussy. “want you to stuff me!”

tongue poking out, ran moves up to take it between his lips, playing with it in his mouth. pulling his lips to yours in a messy kiss, so full of exchanged spit and trailing drool to your chins. you love it, you love them, and you show them by squeezing them so tightly they have no choice but to fill you up with their cum.

“well, pretty girl, take it.” izana grunts, and with one big roll of his hips, he empties himself inside of you. ran follows suit, whimpers and moans drowned out by eachother’s mouths.

you join them with your last orgasm of the night, leaving you barely conscious on the bed, drenching their cocks with one last wave of cum. you stay there, sprawled out on the bed for all to see, face full of dried out tears, so many different salivas around your swollen lips and remnants of izana’s cum. your body follows suit, drenched in sweat and thick lines of cum following down to the small little bulge on your stomach.

it’s mucho’s hand that presses that tiny bump, all watching as all the cum you’ve tried so desperately to keep inside oozes out of your beaten cunt, huge loads wetting the bed below you. your ass much of the same. you groan, whimpering at his touch, hips bucking unconsciously.

and with two fingers, mucho again shoves some of their seeds back inside, to leave you full. you close your legs, stretching your sore muscles from all the rough handling tonight. the moon’s still up, and its glow is casted above you, giving your enamored smile and angelic touch.

they all lie around you, circling you. shion and mochi on your thighs, rindou and mucho by your chest, and ran and izana near your head. soothing your muscles, kissing every spot they can.

“thank you.” it’s honest, despite the pain it brought, you enjoyed it more than anyone you are sure. in the darkest corner of your heart, it’s what you’ve always wanted, and you got it.

izana doesn’t want to ask if there’s any other thought inside your head that isn’t what just happened. after all, they’ve fucked you dumb. you have a hard time opening your eyes, breaths still long and shallow with huffing here and there.

he’s relieved, your suffering fully gone, consumed by their yearning. leaning down, his lips peck yours, back of his fingers brushing the side of your face.

“we’ve loved you like this for such a long time.” ran confesses, so vulnerable post-sex you love it. always having it hard to open his heart to what he’s feeling, trying to shove it in with insecure cockiness. you are glad it’s him who declares it.

your finger boops his nose, the two of you sharing childish laughter.

“me too.” you whisper, wanting to pat the other’s heads. to show them that you consider them, always. “but it’s all good, now i’m yours.”

and it felt so good to hear, meaning twisted to turn more romantic. more heartfelt, something they aren’t used to, but you’ll give it to them every time they need it.

“and all of us belong to you, but that’s nothing new.” you chuckle at shion’s words, legs numb and body resting. the bed becomes more plush to your body, hugging you and lulling for you to sleep. you try so hard to fight it, never wanting the moon to leave. for this to become a memory.

“i wish for this night to never end. to stay like this forever.” you dream, a foolish one. the moon will always leave and the sun will replace it, and this would only have belonged to the night before doomsday comes.

“c’mon, let’s give you a warm bath.” mochi says before you doze off into a deep slumber. missing their soft cleaning and the close attention to your body. praising it, worshipping all it has done for their enjoyment. they thank you in warm kisses and dark hickeys, thinking to themselves that after tonight, the result of tomorrow cannot escape their grasps.

they must win, for the woman so full of love for them. so that they can live their lives as one, together forever. and perhaps, all of you should have dreamed harder, because the memory of tonight would be the last between you all.

izana and mucho taken away by death’s greedy hands. you, having fallen so deep into a sea of darkness, you had to escape before it all consumed you. the only ones to hold this night close to their hearts, having their friends engraved in hanafuda and your love in their chests, where your initials rest.

everyone of you looking up at the moon every night, begging for her to take you back to that night —the night before doomsday comes.

— end —

good or bad i’m throwing it out there that english isn’t my first language. thank you for reading <3 our troops are so brave, getting through this whole thing and ending up with brain trauma (probably) anyway, reblogs are appreciated :) it’s like a pat on my back (yipee)

( @tenjikusstuff4 @luminouslaybyrinth @idekwhatimdoingsblog )

[singukieee]

—my all time favourite bts fics (pt. 3) ᯓᡣ𐭩

consists of my personal favourite bts fics that I've read countless of times. including those from other platforms, such as Wattpad, AO3, and Patreon.

For some works that are cross-posted between tumblr and wp/ao3, I'd only link them to the latters bcs I find it easier to read and navigate the stories on those. but I also tagged all the authors I know are here and linked the rest so you can check their blogs out yourself!

I'll also separate this list into several parts simply because there's too many... So it'd be easier for you guys to navigate!

red means unfinished

blue means finished

🗯️ curator's note

(sorted by alphabetical order)

Merilia by saylilirose

"Mermaids are not real!" That's what you and Namjoon hear everywhere you go. It's funny that you're hidden in plain sight, although perhaps popping a tail in front of strangers wouldn't end well for you. That's what you've come to learn. You've also learned, to hide yourself very, very well. Until- "NO-DON'T JUMP-SHIT!" You and Namjoon are joined by others, not by choice.

🗯️ mermaids and insane drama oooh yes

Moonchild by @yoongiofmine (paid on patreon but so worth it)

Working at a coffee shop that only opened in the late hours of the night was the most exciting thing about your life, really. You never had that many friends, your love life was nonexistent, and you just couldn’t explain the feeling of not belonging that chased you no matter where you tried to find your place. It was when seven very handsome strangers came into your life that weird things started happening around you and within you. Could they be the ones to fill in what’s been missing? Or would getting involved with them and their world put you in danger?

🗯️ aaaah so good!!! so well-written, gahh plott so great, identity crisis (human or...?), werewolf drama.

My Muse by Zennnoe

I felt my lungs suddenly stop and a coldness brush onto my face, I gasped loudly clutching onto my chest. Dropping down onto my knees trying to grasp whatever air in-front of me. But I was at dance practice. So why did it feel like I was breathing underwater? I soon felt the hands of my close friends lift me up and lay me down as I try to takin in as much air as possible, for her. Soon the staff swamp me and I hear them talking about her, my other half. I soon clutched onto my stomach and I shouted loudly in so much pain, pink fluorescent patches bloom onto my skin. Yes they looked pretty. But the reason why they were there was not. As I try to reach out I grab one of my friends hands tightly and request for one thing. "My music. Pass me my music." I beg. This is the only way for me to reach her…to help her. My beloved soulmate.

My Soulmate are IDOLS by tinyeyecat

In a world where soulmates exist and people receive their soul bonds (a red string of fate, body exchange, timer tattoos…etc) when they turn 20… Wet dreams are not the norm for Amber. She should not be haunted by men she doesn't know, let alone by the world-famous boyband, Bangtan. But on the day of her birthday, Amber switches bodies with the idol on stage and finds out that the members of the boyband are her soulmates. All seven of them.

🗯️ this is one wild story... aren't all emi ree's stories so wild tho? but also well-written. (epilogue is on Patreon).

Not My Hybrids by Ghosstwriterss

When Y/n is pressured to volunteer at a hybrid rehabilitation/adoption Center, and asked to house 7 hybrids to help them become comfortable with humans and the idea of adoption, who is she to say no?

🗯️ the kind of story where mc's so freakin nice I don't think she's human. but yea it's all worth it.

One Kiss by DuraWrites

In a world where soulmate exist, where you can only know your soulmate through a dream. Confirm through a kiss and complete the bond through love-making. Han Bora just celebrated her 22nd birthday and not long she started having dreams of her soulmate. Correction. Soulmates. Already being a fan of this popular K-pop group, she immediately knew that her soul is tied to all seven of them. It was a dreadful yet thrilling thought as the realization of being the soulmate to her favourite artists hit her. But it isn't just as easy as it seems. Because she was the only one who had the dreams. So She has to prove to them she's their soulmate. And the only way to confirm that is through ONE KISS. How will an average girl find her way to that untouchable top to prove to the biggest boyband that she's their soulmate? Come along and let's dive into this crazy mess of a journey together.

🗯️ one kiss is all it takes... literally

Out of Time series by Alphathyx

🗯️ so freakin sad wtf but that is why there's an alternate ending. soo good and heart wrenching.

❶ Out of Time

A story about a girl named, Hana who has suffered a chronic condition all her life that would soon take her life one day. But with her final wish, she uses it to see BTS, but the boys decided to have more in store for her. Join Hana, and the members in a fluff filled adventure before time runs out.

❷ Out of Time: Young Forever

The alternate ending for 'Out of Time' and bonus chapters

Parfait by fullspectrumfangirl

Alpha bands are a popular entertainment schtick. Handsome, powerful, talented, they sell the fantasy of availability as much as they sell their music. After all, everyone knows a pack is incomplete if it only contains alphas. Omegas and betas dream of being a part of the balance. Unfortunately, this is more than just marketing. A band needs to function as a pack, but with only alpha members, bickering and infighting are almost unavoidable. Beta managers help, but there is another common tactic that helps the talent maintain equilibrium: house omegas, hired companions who stand in for the missing pieces. BTS is a wildly popular seven-member alpha band. They are known to be particularly kind and humble, but they are still struggling to keep house omegas for their pack. None of the prior candidates have wanted to leave, but one member has protested them all. What is the missing ingredient in their otherwise winning recipe?

🗯️ again, idk what to say but it's good! a really well-written story with great plot.

Peculiar Pack by @daydreamindollie

You’re a successful hybrid writer and psychologist, who takes in seven hybrids one stormy night after finding one of their pack stealing from your garden.

🗯️ cute T.T

Petrichor by @purpleyoonn

You had been working at Bangtan Corporation for almost two years now, and not once have you ever laid eyes on your bosses. That was, until you met them when out with some of your coworkers. Now, you almost wish you hadn’t. Almost.

🗯️ courting... yes please! and again, I love possessive mates.

Plump by koozip

Meeting Namjoon's close friends was something you've been anxious about since meeting him. You wanted them to like you. Starting off with a group chat seemed like the perfect way around your fears. You weren't sure how they'd feel about you in person. So when they fell in love with you and your lovely curves, you were taken by surprise. You soon realize that you're stuck with the seven handsome men for the long run. The chronicles of chubby y/n and her new smitten friends. Based around the group chat named 'chubbybear' that started it all.

🗯️ gosh this one's just warm and sweet, especially for fellow chubby girlies out there!

Rainy Days by Peanut_The_Sugar_Glider

Life had dealt you a rather crappy hand, but you kept on fighting, you kept on existing day by day. On a gloomy day however, you feel as if it all means nothing, as your beloved pet had past away and she always was there to cheer you up and enjoy the gloomy weather, making it less sad and depressing. Be it fate or otherwise, movement catches your attention outside. And your life is never the same after. You never will have to worry about being alone, and you find yourself enjoying the rainy weather.

🗯️ despite the title, this story feels like a warm hug.

Redamancy by strawberheecake

In which Yn met an unknown pack of hybrids living on a land she inherited. Feelings bloomed as the pack helped her weather the storm that is her greedy family.

🗯️ another neat and well-written story <3

Retribution by Babydoll_Blue

The Bangtan Boys were known around campus for being heart breakers, but when they made poor Seul-ki cry, Y/N and Mina decided it was time for retribution. Forming a plan to ruin their images, Y/N sets out to seduce them all.

🗯️ revenge gone wrong... or right? wtf am I typing, just read it guys.

Rose & Thorns by @minniepetals

A lone rose, a little broken, until Jungkook came along and the two of you saved each other, and in doing so, Jungkook showed you a world where he shared with his six other mates.

🗯️ a dramatic and warm story. I'm such a simp for soft but strong MCs like this one.

Safe House by SweetBreadFictions

In a dystopian universe where hybrids exist, the government had turned a blind eye to the mistreatment of hybrids. These persons were used, abused and treated in the most unfair ways. To escape the evil owners, hybrids make their way to the rumored district of freedom called Area 613. To help these refugee hybrids, an underground railroad had been developed by kind people. Being sympathetic to these persons, you run a safe house stop for the hybrids during their journey. As you help these hybrids, seven of them decide that your safe house might be better that any rumored district of freedom.

🗯️ I love when the relationships develop one by one so you got attached to allll of them.

Sanctuary by @softykooky

Some people are lucky enough to be born into a family that loves them. others meet their family in a coffee shop while on the run from the korean ambassador, while they’re holding a man at gunpoint and beating him to a pulp for treason against their syndicate.

🗯️ :")👍

Seven by Worldwidehandsomeyouknow

Life is boring. Same thing, day in and day out. Nothing new or exciting ever happens. I just want something, anything to happen! Well something happens alright. Seven somethings in fact

Sheltered by Gracie30102

What Namjoon thought was trouble turned out to be a blessing as he rescued a wounded kitten who would capture his packmates hearts little by little.

🗯️ s o f t.

When a vaccine leads to unexplained symptoms, the world erupts into panic. What happens when one girl finds out she is soulmates to all seven members of the largest group in the world?

Shifted by dailyJinspiration

You were property, a casualty of an archaic law, but he didn't see you that way. You're an elemental witch, leaving the country of your birth to be mated to Hoseok, the leader of a pack of brothers who were forced to come together or risk being exiled forever. They are broken, discarded and angry, they can also shift into giant feline predators in the blink of an eye. You thought you would have a simple life, try to win them over one by one, but there are bigger plans in motion and it will take every skill you possess to keep what's yours.

🗯️ defo one of my absolute faves fanfic in 2024. it's got intricate issues, steamy scenes, sassy and strong witch mc, and the guys as hybrids. writing's so neat!

Soulmate to You by OT7oramI

🗯️ another well-written soulmate story! this synopsis doesn't give justice to this freaking good story so just read it please.

Spring Day by @nunchiimagines

Becoming a part time english teacher wasn’t exactly the ideal startup you had hoped for yourself when you first moved to Seoul, South Korea. Luckily, you loved working with children and you were grateful to have found a well paying job with housing included so soon after university. Amongst your class, however, are 5 boys who seem to be constantly ostracized not only by the rest of the students but also by the other teachers and staff members. Becoming attached to you fairly quickly, you’re unintentionally tasked to be their permanent caretaker during their stay at school, even staying past the hours you were needed until they were picked up safely. However, what you didn’t expect was to catch the hearts of their seven older brothers, the leaders of a notorious and well known mafia family in Korea.

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 4 | NAVI

[resande]

Steddie fic idea

‼️‼️‼️If you’re a writer that wants to collaborate with me into giving life to this big project, hmu. I’ll draw for it and all i need is someone who will put into words and also help me build up more on this story and fill the gaps. Also someone that won’t give up on the project when it’s not completely done. This story will also have nsfw scenes in it so take that into consideration aswell.

This project doesn’t have a deadline at all. It’s my baby and i wanna give it the life and attention it deserves because i love this idea so much.

Soo, if you’re interested, DM me🫶🏻

Also if you have other works, i would like to see them aswell. You can attach them to your message, in case there’ll be more people that want to take the place.‼️❤️❤️

The idea in question: (copied from x)

Edward being a witch and in a life before this, him constructing this Colossus of a gothic cathedral for his love, Stephen, who was a priest.

The town found out because the cathedral was finished too soon (stephen was terminally sick and edward wanted him to see this monument dedicated to their love while Stephen was still alive, so he said fuck it and used his powers to finish what supposed to be a +600 years of work.

The town people found out he was a witch and began a witch hunt so they can burn him at the stake.

Eddie faked his death right before the burning thing in the middle of the town, right in front of the cathedral happened. No one knew except Stephen. There was a scarecrow made to look like eddie (magic happened there aswell). And because Stephen was The priest of the town, he

was forced to burn the witch. (Including here a “no one mourns the wicked” scene because that tore my heart out and i need it here and also bc Stephen felt like the real wicked between the two, because of betraying god (but also without any remorse towards it)

Once he set fire to the scarecrow, the town tried to set fire to the cathedral aswell. But it never burned. The fire would go out as soon as it started and the skies would rip apart and heavy rain would fall. So the cathedral will stay intact.

For as many years as Stephen had, and so many more after that, the town tried to burn down the cathedral thousands of times. The only thing that happened was the color of it became black. And it stayed that way, protected forever by eddie’s powers.

They promised eachother they will find one another in afterlife, until stars will cease to exist. Stephen told Edward “to make your searching easier, you’ll find me right here. In our home (the cathedral)

“In every life i’ll live, until my soul will decompose, i will cherish our love.”

Also right before eddie would get captured, eddie made a scene in front of the cathedral and the whole town, by swallowing the cathedral’s front door keys. (Magician trick Get it. Or nawt) as to show everyone that no one has power over what he created, other than himself (n stephen ofc).

————

After hundreds of years, a mechanic & struggling musician called eddie, got a hitchhike by an old weird man, and kinda got kidnapped into a town that.. weird enough, doesn’t show on the map… . Stuck in time, set in the 40-60’s, and has in the middle of the old town the most bone chilling creation eddie had ever seen. That damned colossal cathedral. (Eddie also has a tattoo of an old key on his sternum)

eddie gets into town And has so many weird reactions from peers when they look at his face.

(They have pictures of the witch that created the cathedral and eddie looks identical to him). He has a breakdown out of nowhere while stopping in his tracks, right in front of the creation. All the people surrounding him, not moving a muscle. They’re convinced they are assisting to a historical moment. The prophecy. The second coming of the witch.

No one dared to touch eddie while he was sobbing and having a panic attack on the ground.

No one, except a young priest,

In his 20’s.

Calming him down. And taking him away from prying eyes. In the back gardens of the cathedral, where only priests and nuns are allowed. Found an empty spot and sat eddie down. Told him everything.

Eddie had one week until the mark of the 300 years, since the death of the witch. To do what the whole town - turned into a cult, wanted since Edward died. To open the old chest that lies in the attic, so “the second coming of christ will come” or so that’s what all of them

Believed. (Actually someone sniffed edward and stephen out and selfishly wanted to open that chest to prove everyone that stephen must die for his sins. Basically a Carver invented one of the oldest lies they ever heard.)

If people find out about the key tattoo eddie has

That he got from his dreams, make a real copy out of it and try to open the front doors + the chest, and it works, “then the second coming of christ is happening and at dawn everyone and their animals will enter in the afterlife/eternal heaven.”

They also need to burn the witch

Again so he won’t stop “this process for once and for all.”

From here on out, in this one week, eddie faces the psychological horrors of this fucked up cult town, hunted by its people, couple of times but gets away because now steve sees through all the bullshit he got indoctrinated all his life, has time to fall in love with eddie, helps him out, and tries to put a stop to all of this.

In the end it becomes a ghost town, while eddie and steve get away, steve getting to see life outside of the town’s walls, for the first time in his life.

It’s not all thought out but this horror-ish idea i’ve had for a long ass time and i wanna draw for it… my babey🤲..

[kairiscorner]

Helloo, can I request Miguel with an artist reader who draws him a lot? 👉👈 Like the reader has a secret crush on Miguel and he inspires them a lot, without even knowing it. And maybe there's a Gwen-and-Miles-like-situation where Miguel by accident discovers the drawings of him in their sketchbook?

AAAAAAAA ANON THIS IS SO CUTE !! tbh i wanted to finish the miggy fic i had for ate @binibinileonara bc i wanted to connect these two together, BUT I COULDN'T RESIST, I'LL MAKE IT SEPARATE BC WHY NOT !! thank you for the lovely idea btw (i also had an idea like this actually in my notes) THANKS FOR GIVING ME THE OOMPH TO DO IT !!

(reblogs are greatly appreciated, it helps get my content out there! if you guys like what you see, please reblog it too <:D)

you always had this desire to capture all that interested you in its full beauty, in its unbridled greatness. that was, to you, the essence of all your art pieces; they always reflected how you saw the world, how you saw nature, how you saw people.

you never believed people had one or two faces to them, you believed people were multi-faceted, that every person was a kaleidoscope of beauty, skills, quirks, flaws, fears, hopes, and dreams. you loved capturing every bit of people who intrigued you the best you could, and you hoped that if you stood back and admired the big picture that was them, going over the details and fibers that made each person their own–from the good, bad, pretty and ugly details–you would finally see the whole, uncut image of the person you were illustrating; who you were painting in the colors you saw them in, the colors that stuck with you and filled the empty canvas of your mind with all sorts of shapes and splotches of hues and shades that formed the image of them when their name would come to mind.

and for some reason... that person to you right now was miguel o'hara. you had a lot of things to say about him, even words that many would argue don't exist. you felt a myriad of feelings when you were around miguel, and you knew there was more than just the dictating leader miguel that everyone was familiar with. like all people, miguel, too, was an explosion of different kinds of colors to you–colors that only you could see, because when he was around you... he was more than just the cool, calm, and collected boss everyone saw him as.

he was much more caring, much more funny around you. his smile when you told him a funny story illuminated a bright yellow and a warm orange to you–his eyes would twinkle and you'd see the hazelnut brown in his eyes, and a shade of what appeared to be coffee brown at the bottom of his irises. he exuded a commanding aura, a dark, cool blue–but when paired with you, and only you, he exuded a bright red; a color of fiery passion, intimacy, and most of all... attraction.

he was the subject of your affections, you, the soulful and emotional artist that admired him and all that he was from afar and up close. you admired the way he held your hand when you were scared on a few missions, you admired how gently he held you when you two were caught between a rock and a hard place; and how soft and loving his eyes were when they gazed at you. you knew he might have felt a platonic kind of love for you, what with being so comfortable around you and all, but you felt a different kind of love for him–and you hated denying your creative side the indulgence of capturing him in all his beauty.

hence, you began slowly filling the empty spaces of your sketchbooks and notebooks, or whatever other papers lay around when inspiration struck you, with images of him and only him. you caught his face in moments where he was nonchalant, disappointed, angry, grumpy, and... smiling.

when you witnessed his smile for the first time when you met him, that image was burned into your retinas, into your mind, into your heart. you saw that smile from the minute you went to bed to the minute you woke up, the only thing that saddened you was that you could never hold that man who smiled at you and made your heart beat a little faster–you could only watch him and be with him at a distance. but art was the bridge between you two that'd close that distance you wanted to cover so, so badly.

you did, at times, believe what you were doing was... a little creepy. you refused to let anyone see your sketchbooks even before you drew him, and that was out of embarrassment at your drawings. but now, it was a new kind of embarrassment, a feeling adjacent to guilt and disgust at how nobody but he could fill your mind and have you wanting to keep him in your mind by feeding yourself, indulging yourself in putting him on paper and coloring him in; to be with him at a closer perspective than how you two were in the real world.

you had to admit it–seeing him constantly in your mind, wanting to let thoughts of him out on paper as you wanted to be through with imagining him, but knew you couldn't the more and more you portrayed him–it meant you... wanted him. you really, really loved him.

you knew nobody should know, nobody had to know about this little crush you had on miguel. you'd rather die than have someone peek at your sketchbook that was filled with all kinds of drawings of him. but unfortunately, the man himself bore witness to your caricatures and illustrations of him when you left your sketchbook at his office.

you ran as quickly as you could, praying he hadn't opened it out of curiosity. he was always asking you what you were up to, and you'd immediately shut your sketchbook and laugh awkwardly, claim you were merely doodling. you always left out the part that you were constantly drawing him, and only ever him; and now, he'd find out.

as you entered his office, scouring with your eyes for your sketchbook, a figure emerged from the darkness behind you and gave a slight cough. "this is yours, isn't it?" that low, fluid voice was none other than miguel's. you turned around in fear of what he was going to look like–would any of the faces you drew seeing him as be one of the faces you'd see?

to your surprise... no. he had a different, completely new face that you had never drawn him in; a flustered state. he was blushing, his angled cheeks and high nose bridge were covered in a pink-red hue–and he was grinning. he handed you the sketchbook with a now sheepish smile. "i'm sorry, i wasn't sure if it was yours. i had to... look through for a name. and, um... it was very–" he wanted to continue, but then, he saw you were on the verge of tears.

"i'm... sorry..." you muttered, feeling incredibly ashamed of yours and busted for having indulged in drawing him without him knowing. guilt stirred in your stomach and elicited tears to well up in your eyes. miguel smiled, and as his eyebrows curved upwards together to form a look of reassurance, he placed both hands on your shoulders.

"listen, you have a wonderful talent. i'm sorry if you don't hear that enough, but that changes today. i'm so... wow, i'm so flattered you thought i was good enough to be drawn that way. it feels... amazing, to know an artist sees me fit to be their, what would you call it?" he asked as he wiped a tear rolling down your cheek away from you.

"a... muse." you whispered, wiping the rest of your tears away. miguel chuckled. "right, a muse." he said as he inched closer to you, with the sweetest smile on his face. "i might sound really crazy right now, but... i want to be your muse. i really, really want to be your muse." he said, with emphasis on 'your'.

your face lightened up as the tears that welled up gave your eyes a glassy look, and you saw the blush on his deepen as you became more and more flustered. you smiled and wrapped your arms around his chest, pulling him in for an embrace you needed to release. "and i want to be your artist. only yours." you whispered, to which miguel reciprocated your hug. and it was here that you witnessed him in a new color, a pinkish, reddish hue that made you feel all kinds of happiness and excitement.

a love meant to be captured and painted in with bursts of emotion and care for one another.

a/n: I'M SO SORRY IF IT DIDN'T COME OUT THAT WELL NGL I MADE THIS A LITTLE RUSHED 😭😭😭 BUT I LOVE MIGGY HERE PLSSS AND I HOPE Y'ALL LOVE HIM HERE, TOO <333

tags !! @thecoolerdor @miguelswifey04 @binibinileonara @luvstarrstruck

[stu-dyingstudent]

Sakura Haruno fic recs: Akatsuki/missing-nin

Okay, so I actually love the akatsuki so much. They were genuinely such good characters with really interesting storylines and powers. The whole akatsuki arc/repression was quite rushed imo and many of the wins from the fights felt a little unwarranted, but that's not too unusual in Naruto...

Anyway, this list is set to include fics where Sakura is either in the akatsuki or akatsuki members (excluding itachi bc that's literally any non-mass) play a large role in the story or Sakura just somehow lands herself being a missing-nin. From my experience, it's hard to find fics of this type without it being some sort of harem, which is not what I'm interested in, so here are some that I recommend!

Started: 2024.09.28

Last Updated: 2025.01.02

note: feel free to check out my master list which has a bunch of Sakura Haruno fic recs (all organized)!

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Vertigo - Cynchick || ffn || M || deisaku || akatsuki AU || complete

Sakura accepts the most critical and dangerous mission of her life, but the price of success may very well be her soul. When your entire world turns upside down, how do you keep from going under? DeiSaku.

I made this list literally just so I could recommend this fic lmao. Sakura takes on the mission to infiltrate the akatsuki, ruining her reputation and destroying her friendships in the process. Due to a brief encounter she had with Deidara, Sakura is allowed into the ranks and joins as his new partner. Their relationship is actually quite sweet and I think it's interesting to see things from Deidara's perspective as although he was very explosive (haha) in Naruto, he is also quite intelligent and a very capable shinobi.

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A Second Chance - Invisibleninja12 || ao3 || T || sasosaku || time travel AU || ongoing

A 15 year old Sasori turns up in the Leaf Village almost one year after Sakura defeats him (in canon). Not knowing what to do with this young, (semi) innocent Sasori, Sakura hides him from the world.

A teenage Sasori somehow manages to land himself 20 years in the future and he isn't quite sure what to make of it. Sakura feels she owes it to Lady Chiyo to help out (a bratty and emotional constipated) Sasori and ropes Sai into assisting. I've really been enjoying A Second Chance so far and I really love that Sai has a large role!

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Ankle Biter - a_pastel_edgelord || ao3 || E || gen || missing-nin AU || ongoing

“Pinkie, attack.” Sakura's teeth tear through skin and tendons until they meet. Her mouth fills with blood but she doesn't let go. The screaming of her victim washes over her like water. “Sorry about her.” Haku shrugs. “She's always been a bit feral.” The only family Sakura has are Zabuza and Haku.

Sakura is just another orphan picked up by Zabuza. With him and Haku being all she has, it results in her dependance and desperation to prove herself to them, but now that they're in wave it opens her eyes to something new. I really like how the relationship they have is portrayed as even though they are her family, it is obvious that Zabuza isn't as hung up on the matter, which feels quite realistic to his character.

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New Day Dawning - IncompleteSentanc (Erava) || ao3 || narusaku || T || canon divergence || complete

One day, while visiting the grave of Nohara Rin, Obito stumbles across a young girl terrifyingly like her. He decides to ensure she doesn’t meet the same fate.As for Sakura? Sakura had no idea what she was awakening the day she went to visit her parents graves - but she never looked back. One way or another.(Feat. Sakura raised by Obito and the Akatsuki, and her eventual return to Konoha and all those she left behind)

Sakura is brainwashed and manipulated, but loved by notorious killers nonetheless. Incredibly well written and I won't lie when I say that the ending took me a bit by surprise. Just read it

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One Change in the Story - Aingeal98 || ffn || T || gen || time travel AU || incomplete

It wasn't supposed to be like this. She was only supposed to go back five minutes in time. Instead, Sakura wakes up in a dark room surrounded by people wearing black cloaks with red clouds on them. The worst part? She doesn't have a clue who she is.

Praying for One Change in the Story to be completed!! Sakura lands herself back in time with the mind and body of her four year old self. With Pein being the first one to find her, Sakura's new life purpose is to be the Akatsuki's weapon. Sakura slowly loses herself to her new roll and in a sense becomes the embodiment of a ROOT agent. It was interesting to see Itachi's internal battle with the situation and Konan's guilt. However, even with Sakura bound to Ame, there are children back in Konoha who have an itch that a pink-haired girl named Sakura is someone important.

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Old Man by the Bar - Varmint || ao3 || T || gen || academy AU || complete

All it took was one school teacher's decision for the reality of Konoha to be altered in a way that no one could have imagined. Follow Kiba Inuzuka, Sakura Haruno, and Chouji Akimichi as they grow as individuals, friends, and ninja. All with the help of that grumpy old man with all of the cool war stories.

AHHHH READ THIS!!! For some reason I thought this fic was a school AU for the longest time and only got around to reading it recently and I'm so glad I did. It's set back in the academy where Sakura, Choji, and Kiba get grouped together for a project on the shinobi wars. The three misfits end up encountering Kakuzu who tells them a tale of his time fighting. They have so much character development and although they weren't originally happy about their predicament, they grow to look past each other's fronts and form a close bond.

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Expedient - SwiftKick || ffn || T || canon AU || complete

Konoha and Iwa sign a truce and agree to an Exchange Program between recently promoted genin to "bolster village relations." Fortunately, if anything were to go wrong, Haruno Sakura was just average enough to risk losing.

Sakura gets sent on an exchange to train in Iwa just to find out her sensei is only a few years older and a bit obsessed with his explosive art... It's interesting to see how she struggles both in Iwa and back in Konoha as Sakura is as good as an outsider in both villages. Expedient is an all time favorite of mine and I didn't have high expectations going into it, but this fic is truly great. Deidara is such a fun character and I really enjoyed Sakura's growth.

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Stumble - writer168 || ao3/ffn || gen || T || time travel AU || complete

Sakura wanted to die.Sasori was fine with staying dead.But it seemed fate had other plans for them, because when they both wake up younger with blood pulsing through their veins, they had to remember how to live again.Time Travel AU

Sasori and Sakura are both sent back in time and they try to make a difference in their respective villages. Told in the perspective of both characters, but primarily Sakura. She ends up forming a pretty sweet bond with Ibiki and Genma (which I love) and they help her through some things. Sakura has a rough time

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Will of Fire - Cynchick || ffn || M || kakasaku || missing-nin AU || complete

Forced to flee their village and the new regime, the loyal shinobi of Konoha must find a way to preserve their way of life and take back their home. As they fight for their future, Team Seven struggles to overcome the past. KakaSaku

When Danzo overthrows konoha, shinobi fled in hopes of escaping their death and the cruel reign. Sakura and many others go into hiding as missing-nin and plan on how they will reclaim their village. I love this author, and they actually have many fics that would fit on this list, but trust me when I say the writing is truly great. Sakura grows a lot as a shinobi and broadens her fighting style out of desperation for survival and I love it. The characters are all really well done, so just give it a go!

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Dirt and Ashes, or: The One-and-a-Half Body Problem - Tozette || captured || gen || M || canon divergent || complete

The invasion of Konoha during the chuunin exam didn't fail. Team seven is broken, people are dead, and Sakura is hurt and frightened and a very long way from home.Alternative summary: In which Sakura carries half of Hidan across two countries, leaving a trail of blood, bodies, and other people's legs.

Super gory story about Sakura's journey with the cranky and absent legged Hidan. Dirt and Ashes is very popular and it's for good reason.

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final exams coming up! - waterpllar || ao3 || gen || M || captured || complete

Kakuzu can name numerous reasons why Hatake Kakashi could make him an excellent profit, most of which involve the numerous organizations he's sabotaged. Specific figures would certainly be willing to pay very well for free reign to relieve their violent frustrations on one of the most notorious jounin in the Bingo books.Such a business would only function with a healer on hand, but it just so happens that a vast majority of shinobi teams have a healer, and there is a pink-haired genin without a bloodline limit or bijuu on the team.What he did not anticipate is that the Copy-nin's teaching might be so remiss that he hadn't trained said genin in any iryo-ninjutsu whatsoever. Kakuzu does not like making oversights, and he decides to remedy this fact immediately (unluckily for sakura).

Kakuzu captured Sakura and Kakashi in an attempt to make money (of course) off of Kakashi's many enemies and Sakura is forced to learn medical ninjutsu in order to keep him alive. Although this is marked as complete and could be considered that to those who read it, the ending is not very conclusive tbh (I wanted more).

Edit: ok this actually just got updated even though it’s marked as complete, so ig it’s still ongoing?? Maybe???

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Your childhood home is just powder-white bones (and you'll never find your way back) - Dovey || ao3 || gen || M || captured || complete

Sasuke is not the only one who worries he's getting too comfortable in his genin life. Itachi decides to add another motivator to Sasuke's revenge plans by kidnapping the teammate who wasn't a charismatic Jinchuriki. Sakura is used to being an objective for those around her, not a person, but even for her this is a little much.In which Sakura is held captive and learns what a genjutsu specialist can do to a person's mind, that sharks can actually make great friends, joins a dying clan, and gets regifted multiple times before she's finally strong enough to fight back.*while this fic contains explicit and graphic torture, there's no sexual assault.

Okay, this was actually a really hard read for me. We truly see Sakura's decline in this as she slowly loses her mind and it is very frustrating to see what has happened to her. Nonetheless, it is extremely well written and great is you want something dark.

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Shinra Tensei - multifandom_fanfic_writer || ao3 || T || itasaku || akatsuki AU || complete

With renewed determination, Sakura stepped forward. She passed the guards, who waved at her absently. She smiled, filled with elation as her foot crossed the threshold of Konoha’s gate. She would no longer blindly follow orders. She would no longer be part of the corrupted system. Sakura felt no grief, nor regret. As of today, the old Haruno Sakura didn’t exist anymore. She would be a new person. And she would be one of the greatest. - The world of shinobi is a harsh one, filled with blood and death. Sasuke dies, and Team 7 is left scattered. Sakura’s loyalty to Konoha wavers until it breaks. Determined to find a better purpose, Sakura sets out to figure out how to live in a world where morality is merely a line in the sand. But her path is soon changed when she is summoned – by the leader of the Akatsuki.

I actually have not read Shinra Tensei, but it is quite popular, so I thought I would recommend it if any of you are interested.

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Hoshigaki - writer168 || ao3 || M || gen || sakura is kisame's daughter AU || complete

When Sakura was three, her father told her he was a criminal. When she was seven, the last thing she saw of him was the sword on his back. When she was eight, she had a friend named Kiba. When they were twelve, they met Shino. And when they were genin, they began to fight for the truth because they could no longer fight for the sake of Konoha.

Perhaps one of the more interesting AUs out there as Sakura is actually the daughter of Kisame! Definitely shines a different light on the village and is such a great story (even has a sequel).

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life goal: punch a god in the face - itsthechocopuff || ao3 || T || gen || time travel AU || incomplete

Fist poised to punch a goddess. A glare from opalescent eyes. A flicker of chakra. Sakura’s fist met Kaguya’s face at the same time her vision went black. When she woke up, it was to find herself twenty years in the past, with a pair of eyes she’d personally helped shut staring down at her.

Sakura dies and wakes up in Wind country with a young Sasori watching her. Somehow, she ends up agreeing to help him kill the kazekage once he's strong enough and sets off to Konoha where she befriends Kakashi's team.

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A Curious Kind of Atonement - Katlou303 || ao3 || M || itasaku || mentor!itachi AU || complete

Just after the Uchiha Massacre, a guilt-stricken Itachi wants to make Sasuke's life better. He meets a pink-haired little girl who seems to adore his little brother. He decides he can atone for his crimes by keeping her alive, and so decides to train her in secret. ItaSaku.

Fair warning, I have not finished reading this fic nor have I gotten to the romance. However, I do think it is very well written and I appreciate that the author doesn't waste time with a bunch of random scenes that are unnecessary to the story. Sakura is unknowingly trained by Itachi Uchiha for six years before the truth comes out resulting in the village losing trust in her. She faces a lot of harsh criticism because of this and her relationship with her former mentor is quite strained. Unhealthy relationship

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Psychopaths - jokergirl2001 || ffn || M || gen || Sakura knows Hidan AU || incomplete

Everyone knew about how Hidan slaughtered his neighbors before heading off to join the Akatsuki. What most didn't know was that just like Itachi Uchiha, Hidan had someone he just couldn't kill. A little girl who was founded and taken in by the Village Hidden in the Leaves. A girl who would be placed on Team Seven. A girl named Sakura Haruno.

I've really enjoyed a lot of this author's works! Psychopaths is a super interesting AU and Sakura is definitely a bit morally questionable. I mean, Hidan is kind of her friend, so what do you expect?

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I love when y'all send recs! cheers

[f1amboyant]

I'm not gonna say that I've been plotting this AU instead of working this morning but that's exactly what I'm doing, thinking about my comfort emotionally constipated soulmates. Honestly I feel like Carlos would really be happy to romance even if he wasn't Charles' soulmate, boy is he smitten with his little green eye teammate that looks at him like he created aerodynamics, he never had a chance. I am also 100% sure Ferrari would exploit it like the money hungry pr vultures they are but anyway, this is the direct following of the last ask:

Charles knows it is unfair and stupid to be upset about Carlos finding a new soulmate in his new teammate but he had to endure all the summer break reading James Vowles' words about Carlos and he was jealous and triggered that someone would dared to talk like that about him, like he wanted to climb inside him; it made him a little insecure that James would predicate his love for Carlos and STEAL him away from Charles.

So in Charles opinion he had a perfectly acceptable reaction on a Thursday morning in their motorhome after not seeing his soulmate for weeks and him dropping a bomb like that and that is climb into his lap (Carlos allows it even though he had to maneuver his coffee cup), breaking up in tears and babbling about how this is so unfair and he loves him more than anyone in Williams ever could and complaining about his soul hurting since February and something about setting Fred's room on fire... Carlos lets him get all out, a little stunned and petting Charles' back from the back of his neck to the swell of his ass before settling on his waist, over where he knows his mark is and his other hand scratching his head, coffee cup abandoned on the floor. If someone would had entered the room they would've seen them like that, folded into each other, meters of skin touching, fitting like a puzzle, filling each other's gaps and in such intimate conversation, whispering their yearnings into each ears, painful to watch such a beautiful image. After a while Carlos decides to move the conversation forward and helps Charles move out of his lap bc this is a serious situation and he can't think clearly when he has the weight of his literal soul on top of him and he rather have the talk before his dick decides to move the conversation to another direction 👀

Their love confessions are raw, no more pretty words and metaphors, just pure feelings and stories of yearning, pain; Carlos says he can always feel Charles around like a missing limb and Charles' recalls how he thought he was having a stroke after the Lewis news broke out, how he thought his heart was stopping. They both rip themselves opened for the other to see and Charles is sure that if you cut him open at this mark, not only his skin, but his flesh, bones and organs would be stained gold and for a second he wished he could move his mark from Carlos' shoulder to his throat or his lips so everyone would see it, so there wasn't any doubt that Carlos is his and his only, that even though Carlos was full of color and love for the world, his skin a canvas and his body a museum, his heart only belongs to Charles.

Their first kiss is soft and warm, interwoven with each other, Charles' legs over his lap and his head cushioned on his shoulder, hand over his heart, Carlos' hands still on his mark and his hair, keeping him close and wondering what's next, bc for starters they should be on their way to do their press work but how do you go out after ripping your own soul in half and sew it inside someone else? Charles really doesn't want to move and Carlos has to coax him with sweets "mi alma" and "mi corazón" and promises of a evening alone in his room getting to know every corner of their bodies and souls 🫣🫣🫣

Charles is not above asking for a bj (he doesn't even care what way it goes) and being a menace tbh. He is also gonna be a little shit every time he passes James Vowles bc honestly, f him.

I have so many ideas about their dynamic (and other's tbf), they make me insane 🥰🎨

OH MY GOD

First, plotting AUs during work is such a mood. I totally get it 🤭

Yes! Carlos would absolutely love Charles, whether they are soulmates or not!! So true!

Oh my god, Charles falling apart 😭 Saying his soul is hurting?? I am hurting at that 😭😭😭

Love confession, yay!!! But no pretty words, they are raw and tender, they just say it straight. They are one. Together or nothing 😭 Their first kiss so tender and yet so urgent.

I wonder what they are going to do for that first night together 🤭

Ahahah, I love the idea of Charles being a complete menace to James (and maybe James plays with it a little, teases him, still uses romantic terms to refer to Carlos, until Carlos puts a stop to it)

Thank you so much for sharing anon! Please feel free to share more if you want to! (I must admit that I'm more interested in the charlos part than other ships though 🫣)

[auxxrat]

mother, where have you buried all your children?

Hi everyone !! this is a really quick oneshot that I just had to write out. I'll probably expand on it later, but !! had to get it out. my pookies gave me the idea so :>

I hope u enjoy it !!

the throat singing is inspired by this song from Avatar, bc I think it's beautiful and it emotionally moves me.

Tags !!

angst, shaak ti, delta squad

The Jedi believe that everyone is tied together within the Force. That no matter what, our souls remain connected, no matter how far apart. And once someone’s gone, they disappear from the Force completely—a noticeable wound—the feeling of emptiness. 

That was all Shaak Ti knew now: the waves of dread, the feeling of a hole punched through her chest, the knowledge that they were never coming home. Each clone had their own song, each verse and chorus an achievement or milestones reached. 

But every song had to have a last verse. 

Too many bodies came home. Sometimes the only thing that can be salvaged is a piece of armor, anything–just to take home and bury properly. These funerals could only be held at certain times when the storms of Kamino calmed their rage and the waves dulled. What was left of the fallen was decorated with the highest of honor.

The faces of the dead were painted, gifts given for the crossover into whatever waited after this life. The clones had to believe in something. 

Goodbyes were said as the eldest of them carried the bodies down to the depths of Kamino, where the platforms lowest to the sea hung. Everyone gathered, solemn faces, many hidden by helmets. The waves may have settled but the rain didn’t, it pelted down against armor and skin, matting the clones’ dark hair onto their foreheads. 

Shaak and Appo stood at the front while Delta Squad led the line of bodies. There were no voices as the bodies were set down, even the smallest of clones had the harshest glares. The rain didn't ease up, streaming down Shaak’s face in replacement of tears. She could not cry. 

Boss made eye contact with her as he set down the last body. But it would never be the last body; they both knew that. There were so many brothers here, so many pieces of them. When is it going to be enough? How many more need to die for this great plan? They both asked each other with their eyes only. 

Even now, Shaak could feel their bodies dropping. She could feel every single one dying, it didn't let up, not even when she was supposed to be burying them. 

Boss joined the small group at the front, while the rest of Delta worked on lifting the first coffin onto their shoulders. He joined the small group of boys, standing beside them, serving as an example. Backs straight, you're honoring your brothers. 

He began a guttural, pain-filled throat song, projecting their mourning for the Universe to hear. The boys joined in depending on how high or low their voices were, but the song was all the same. 

It was something deeper than pain, deeper than loss. They sang that pain through their chests, crying out in beautiful octaves. Boss’ voice ran deep towards the end, drawing out a long cry as the last body was cast into the roaring sea. Deliver them to somewhere better than here.  At the end of their long cry, there was silence again, the rain sounding like bullets on the metal of the platform. Shaak Ti and Boss made eye contact again, and this time Shaak was crying; eyebrows tied into a knot as the rain poured down her face. How many more are going to die before this is over?

Read it on AO3!!!

[jhuzen]

a game of chase [m.reader]

i told myself i’d never get caught dead doing a solo childe fic bc my friends and i hate him. well. i’m not dead yet. ahdijsidmv. jk i’m just taking a break from a fic i’m writing so have this one-shot :D. idk why but when i thought of this, childe fits for some reason. and when i brought this up with my friend, they only said “yeah, the attention whore checks out”.

𖦹 i have no idea what genre this is, childe pining for you like mad, my indulgent hc of ekaterina being so done with her boss, a little bit of some characters x you

For every unfortunate soul out there that Childe would have the pleasure of coming across, he made a personal ranking of just how good that first meet was. Of course, it didn’t happen until halfway through he realized how much fun it was to catch some opponents off guard. And on times that he has to go and personally fight to collect certain debts for the bank, he always liked the absolute fear he instilled in every person.

Oddly enough, it wasn’t an ambush he created to be the one sitting at the top rank. Rather, it was his meeting with the traveler. It’s not everyday you see someone with a little flying child getting chased by the Millelith the moment they’ve stepped foot in Liyue. It was hilarious, really. And their meet was nothing short of pure amusement.

And yet, even rankings change.

Especially with the way you barged into his not-so-quaint little life.

A quiet stroll through the harbor — that’s all Chile ever needed and he knew he’d be set to sit on his chair for hours on end, doing boring old paperwork and reports to submit to The Jester. It was nothing to exciting, hence his innate need to get out and go for some fresh air. Take it as a preparation for this grueling boredom that he’s about to face. Though his subordinate preferred he start work now, he still was the one who has the last say.

And so here he was.

Children that reminded him of his little siblings loitered around, playing with huge smiles on their faces. It warmed his heart as he thought about his cold motherland where his family was. He ought to head back as soon as he finishes his reports for now. Just a few days with his family will do the trick.

Vendors by their stalls beckoned to him. He is the facilitator of the Northland Bank in Liyue’s Branch. It’s not too odd to be pulled aside constantly to be offered certain goods. They were only doing business, and as someone who has a sizable mora to spare, it wasn’t surprising to be solicited by them.

With a quick wave to the vendors, he rounded the corner. It was the relatively quiet part of the harbor — not often populated by any vendors as it wasn’t quite in the middle of the bustling crowd where anyone could see. It was quiet. And for someone like him who craved the noise of every clanging blades in a spar, the pained grunts of opponents, and the sound of a blunt impact from every landed punch, Childe enjoyed this part.

A subtle pout came onto his features as he realized that it wouldn’t be long before he has to go back and face the music of the cumbersome paperworks.

Well, that would have happened until his keen ears heard hurried footsteps hitting the pavement. He looked over his shoulder only to see someone hellbent on running. His mind quickly deduced the way you ran — calculative in steps and yet still on a hurry.

Is this guy running away from someone?

Hiding away from them too, in fact, as you booked it to his direction, and before Childe could even react, you had a hand on his wrist that not even he can tear away from. Your head snapped towards an alleyway and shoved him in it, with you following after as you caged him in this tight squeeze of a gap.

Childe blinked. And while he had many questions, your tensed silence was enough for him to clamp his mouth shut, with only your short ragged breaths filling the quiet space.

It didn’t take long though before a portion of his hypothesis was quickly answered as he heard dozens of heavy footsteps and clamoring armor heading to the direction where you and him were in. While you were a tad bit taller, he managed to see over your shoulder a couple of Millelith soldiers all in hot pursuit of you, no doubt. His dull eyes looked up at you, and even with the heavy shadow, he could faintly make out your relieved face when the soldiers came to pass.

You both waited for yet another excruciating minute until the soldier’s clanking armors finally drowned out in distance. A sigh of relief escaped your lips as you finally shimmied your way out of that tight gap, hand already pulling the little harbinger by the wrist once more.

“Sorry about that,” you finally spoke and Childe had to nod. For once, he was less chattier as he slowly rode out the mild thrill in his system. “I had to leave no witnesses.”

He quickly regained his footing in the conversation and chuckled, “Yeah? And I don’t suppose I’m your only witness?” He asked, adjusting his clothing from all the ruckus of being shoved in a dark corner.

“I ran out of luck hiding. So, yeah. You’re the only witness. And besides, if I move anymore while wearing this, I’m bound to attract more than what I intend — which is none,” You shifted around in your clothing, which now Childe took note of. You were dressed in the finest robes, patterned with the most graceful looking snakes and dragons that were no doubt handwoven by skilled artisans in Liyue.

Childe also happened to look up at your visage, cleaned up nice and well, hair done neatly aside from the little stray hairs that went out of place from what he assumed was your little chase with the Millelith. His brain quickly noticed the incongruence. You looked like an important figure and yet… you were being chased around by the people meant to protect figures that are deemed important.

He cocked an eyebrow, sizing you up and down, and you almost laughed at how hard he concentrated. You kept quiet as you waited for his little guess.

“A politician?” He tried and you quickly shot it down. Though, if Childe was being honest, with that Adeptus working in the Qixing as well as that scary fellow hydro vision and bow user lady, there was no room for corruption in the position of power. And besides, there would have been news around, even through rumors, knowing how well informed Liyue citizens could be.

Childe took a step back before he realized just what in Teyvat you were wearing. Those robes were no ordinary ones — they were a traditional Liyue garment used in ceremonies.

Your grin was evident as he locked in his final answer with a flabbergasted look;

“A runaway groom.”

“Bingo.”

“Well, I’ve heard of brides being whisked away before. But I’ve never heard of a runaway groom.” Childe laughed a little, but even in his dull eyes, a flash of pity and curiosity shone through which did not escape you. “What happened to you, man?”

You waved him off with a charming grin, “Nothing you should concern yourself over, my good friend. I just happened to be the unfortunate son who had to be pawned off to a lovely lady to expand our clan’s horizons.”

“That’s insane.”

“It is. Such is the life of a nobleman. Well, no, not always — just some special nutcases who can’t live without power.”

That was how Childe met you. Through a chase. A chase that decided the path of a good portion of your life.

How ironic was it that now he was trying to determine a certain part of his life through a chase.

Perhaps the fact that you were being chased when he met you was an omen of some sort of how his tumultuous love would end up. Childe wasn’t always superstitious, he only believes in the palpable results, the successes in his every mission, and the triumph that gives him high in every victorious ending in fights. But now, the thought of it was slowly questioning his radically logical mind.

Because now, he was chasing after you. Despite the fact that you’ve settled over your marital affairs, you risked your connections being severed from your family when you refused to marry the woman that waited for you by the ceremonial altar. And when you did, you proved everyone wrong by living a far more comfortable life at the edge of the harbor, managing a little teahouse that Childe had funded in capital for you.

In hindsight, the harbinger’s claims of generating more profit should have been an obvious forefront of how his emotions truly manifested. It was a hulking passionate love that towered over everyone but somehow it could never reach the peak where you sat in peace, making tea and indulging the bliss of your freedom.

Though Childe, despite the rationality that he claims he possesses, can be an unreliable narrator. He lies to protect his family, so it’s not a surprise to say that although true, his imaginative descriptions of his love for you is anything but tragic and complicated.

Simply put — he loves you but you were so, so dense.

Always just a foot away no matter how much he ran to catch up to you. No matter how many times he dropped by your shop that he proudly invested in, bringing you lavish gifts to woo you, all you had to do was smile gratefully, make him tea and it felt like all his efforts in winning your affections reversed into your favor — wooing him instead.

“Boss, have you tried… confronting the bull head on?” Ekaterina sipped on her tea as she looked at her boss with mild disdain, which is justifiable, considering that Andrei would always pass him off to her in his heartbroken rants about you.

A resounding groan left Childe’s lips as he slumped over the table with a lack of grace. He looked up at the bank’s receptionist and glared at her, “Mind your words. He is not a bull.” He said in defense of you, completely missing his subordinate’s point. “He’s more like a… a stallion that I would ri—”

“I will turn in my resignation if you continue that sentence, boss.” Ekaterina says with much defiance. The determination to just resign and perhaps get hired by you instead sounds lovely. Granted, she’d still see Childe and his insufferable pining soul, but she would be busy enough tending to other people to notice him… not to be the catch basin of this man-child’s flooding love troubles.

His blue eyes flitted from corner to corner, eyes narrowing at any unsuspecting man or woman that dared to make a move on you. He was always on the guard, but if anything, if he took Ekaterina’s little piece of advice, he would’ve had no worries. You would reject people with that kind smile of yours and politely tell them off with a claim that you finally have someone else.

Ugh. And you would look so cute with his family too! Teucer made another unprecedented excursion two months ago and was relatively surprised that his big brother made an investment on a teahouse. The way you tended to his little brother like a good big brother or even a father made him feel weak in the knees. Though it wasn’t as fun when Teucer had to be convinced to head back to their motherland, it endeared Childe to see a side of you that rarely comes out unless in the company of the little ones.

The way you acted now was a stark contrast compared to when you and him met. You were mischievous and playful on the first few months in his company, but it was the surface that he was slowly chipping away at — only appreciating your much deeper layers when he saw you fight for your freedom against an undesired matrimony that was being pushed on you. You worked with persistence and diligence in your name and Childe could not get more hot and bothered.

You were so inexplicably interesting. It was no wonder he was just one of the many people who were hoping to have a shot with you — that quiet teahouse owner in the outskirts of the harbor. Hell, even he had to meet that fellow hydro vision and bow user lady twice as she convinced you to come down and work in her establishment.

Childe’s eyes narrowed at the thought of her luring you into her web. Though he knows she means it as a literal job offer at the teahouse and nothing more, he couldn’t shake off the way your eyes seemed to soften around her, growing relatively fond of her appearance.

The harbinger decides that the day Yelan starts to bring in gifts, is the day he urges a business relocation. Maybe somewhere in Wuwang Hill. Anywhere but here.

It also didn’t help that one of your regulars was the charming former archon. He either came alone or brought his tiny superior with him. And on the off chance that Childe comes to pass by, he could see the way you seemed so engaged with the old man, leaning closer as he told his life stories from a thousand years ago, meriting him a melodious laugh that Childe couldn’t hear from the outside.

And while he adored the traveler, he also didn’t like that they’ve been trying to nestle themselves into your cozy abode like a love tick. And it drove him over the edge when you, ever the generous man that you are, would treat them to a cup of tea, free of charge. Like, that was a lost revenue, you annoyingly attractive and scrumptious airhead! That could have been profit!

You are denser than the muscles Childe would subtly feel out in his tight hugs with you. It was annoying. You’re annoying. It’s annoying. He hates it.

He hates you.

“Oh dear, you don’t look too good, Ajax.”

His eyes snapped open as he felt your hands raking through his ginger hair. He almost sobbed at your gentle touch, just going through with ease. He looked ahead to see Ekaterina missing, and from his peripherals, he could see her pouring herself another fresh pot of tea. Ah. Now that he noticed, the teahouse is now quiet, completely void of customers. He supposed it’s already your closing time.

“Had a tough day at work.” He mumbled.

“No, he didn’t.” Ekaterina’s voice echoed from and Childe only huffed.

Laughter rumbled from somewhere deep in your chest and Childe had to restrain himself from just ambushing you with something that he deems as the deciding moment of your relationship. He’s normally impatient, often just wanting to go at it bare hands. Heck, if stated otherwise in a mission, he would directly make contact and fight off the opponent.

But this isn’t a fight. It’s love. It’s raw attraction towards you and for once, Childe who had the boyish charm that could make everyone drop to their knees was at loss.

“Go back to the bank, Ekaterina,” Childe grumbled as he finally sat up from his seat, looking at his subordinate with a pout. “Andrei would scold you.”

“Andrei pays me double to stay with you.”

“I wish Andrei would also pay me double for putting up with him,” you sighed and he almost choked on his own spit, hitting your torso with a glare. You may be dense to his advances, but you still displayed a teasing disposition that no one is safe from. Not even poor him.

He huffed, crossing his arms, “I can just as easily pull out as this teahouse’s investor, y’know? Watch your words, [Name].” His threat was light and empty, and you knew as well — much to his chagrin. “I mean it,” he added for extra measure.

You only gave him a light hum and nodded along, “Of course you do,” your words were in agreement, and yet it only served to invalidate his empty threat towards you. “So, would you like a refill?” You asked, cocking your head in Ekaterina’s direction, who still had a hand on the pot. You were sure she’s gone through about half of it already since the moment she got a hand on it.

Childe’s breath suddenly got caught in his throat as he watched the setting sun’s rays illuminate through your form from the window. You looked absolutely breathtaking and suddenly, the moment felt right. You were only a few inches away, but as his foot moved to take a step, he felt restricted, bound by the chains of uncertainty as he watched you take a step away, your distance growing by a foot. Again, you were a foot away. After he hesitated when he was so close to just… claim you right there.

He coughed before nodding, “Yeah. Sure,” his voice, painfully stiff and strained.

The harbinger was quick to blame it on the fact that Ekaterina didn’t leave you two alone for some space.

But he knows that she was hardly the reason, not when his heart thudded with regret as he watched you walk over to his subordinate and wrestle the pot away from her. Not when his heart continued to hammer against his chest as his emotions went into another overdrive of absolute adoration.

Not when he can finally feel the chains loosen against his heart when he finally, absolutely without a doubt realized you truly were the one.

[theoihalioistuff]

Hey! Regarding your last post about Zeus facets, do you have any idea about how he was perceived in cults?

I think this is such an interesting topic! There's no easy answer considering how ubiquitous and widespread his cult was, but for a quick overview I really recommend Jennifer Larson's Ancient Greek Cults. It's far from a complete coverage (for that there's Farnell's psycopathic 5 volume effort The Cults of the Greek States, and even he falls short), but it's an amazing collection of the most significant, fundamental and peculiar cultic aspects of every major god. So for my answer I'm shall offer a shamelessly plagiarised deficient summary of her work.

The most familiar cults of Zeus are the large panhellenic sanctuaries of Nemea and Olympia, where the god was famously honored with athletic contest. This last cult, a meeting place for local chieftans at least since the 10th C. BC, had victors offer massive hecatombs at the center of the sanctuary: a walled precinct called the Altis (Sacred Grove) where a primitive altar stood, a great conical pile of molded sacrificial ashes. The sanctuary also boasted of having one of the Seven Wonders of the world, Zeus' colossal chryselephantine statue. Appart from the awe and majesty, "viewers received the impression of a calm and peaceful deity. According to Dio Chrysostom (Or. 12.51), “whoever is deeply burdened with pain in his soul, having borne much misfortune and grief in his life and never being able to attain sweet sleep, even this man, I believe, standing before this image, would forget all the terrible and harsh things which one must suffer in human life.”"

Earlier cults focus more on Zeus's aspects as a rustic rain deity. As "the" sky god he frequently dwells on the summit of the tallest mountains (Mt. Lykaon in Arkadia, the Oros of Aigina, Ida in Troy, Hymmetos in Attica, etc. until ultimately Olympos) where he was worshipped under titles such as Ombrios (of showers), Aphesios (releaser, in reference to the myth of Aiakos and the drought), Hyetios (of rain) and Ikmaios (of moisture). Rain-magics were common (such as sprinkling water from oak boughs), and he was curiously worshipped on Keos and Mt. Pelion in conjunction with Sirios (the scorching Dog-Star). Fleeces seem to have formed a common part of many of these rituals.

Second only to Artemis, Zeus also had some of the most sinister cults, where mythically humans became the sacrificial victims. In Thessaly, Athamas almost sacrificed his son to Zeus Laphystios (the Devourer), and further strange practices survived to Herodotos' days (Histories 7. 197). Similarly in honour of Zeus Lykaios (wolfish) a secret nocturnal sacrifice was held during which participants ate portions of a “mystery meat” from a tripod kettle, reputed to contain not only entrails of animals, but also a human victim. Several traditions speak of the later lycanthropy of the participats. Zeus always makes a show of refusing human sacrifice in myths, punishing Lykaon and having Herakles berate Athamas, but still rituals that outlived even the roman era paint a darker picture of the god (though there's no archaeological evidence of human sacrifice).

Zeus also dwellt in the cities. An amusing rite was held in Athens in honour of Zeus Polias (of the city), where after the ox had been sacrificed the priest who had committed the deed quickly run off, and the axe that was used was tried for murder. He could also be found as Zeus Boulaios (of the Council), Agorarios (of the Agora), Soter (Saviour) and Eleutherios (liberator), and Zeus Tropaios (of the Rout) was worshipped as the defender of cities in the form of an empty armor placed on a pole. He also resided in the home, where he could be found in shrines dedicated to Zeus Patroös (ancestor), Herkeios (of the Courtyard) or Ktesios (of possessions), this last one embodied in a wool-wreathed jar filled him "ambrosia", that acted as a charm to increase the household goods. In the sanctuary of Zeus Messapeus, near Sparta, other finds were eclipsed by the staggering number of crude clay figures with massive, erect phalloi; presumably votive offerings related to male fertility and fatherhood. He was also syncretised with Zeus Meilichios, a serpentine god of a chthonic nature that deserves a post of their own. His moral attributes where reflected when he was surnamed Hikesios (of Suppliants), Katharsios (of Purification), Xenios (of Strangers/Foreigners) and Exakester (of Making Amends), and as Zeus Horkios (of Oaths) he served as the ultimate witness.

Finally, he had fascinating rites in Crete, where he was said to be born and die every year, and his tomb was shown to visitors (I won't go into details because I'd be here till the cows come home), and he was as an Oracular deity in Dodona, his other major panhellenic sanctuary. His cult title there was Naios (flowing), and together with Dione (the female form of his own name) he delivered prophecies (different ways are given depending on the version or theory: speaking oak-trees, doves, dove-priestesses, ascetic male priests, wind-chimes, lead tablets, etc.). In such a capacity, and as lord of fate, Apollo and other oracular figures were conceived of as his mouthpieces.

Generally speaking, quoting Larson: "His cults typically reinforce traditional sources of authority and standards of behavior, whether in the family, the kinship group, or the city." Still, plenty of his cults where surrounded by an elemental and primitive air. He ranges from majestic and lawful to savage and wild, from rustic to urbanite and from straightforward to mystical. He's the pile of contradictions I love to see in my mythological figures.

[aanoia]

Post!Azkaban Sirius but he absolutely refuses to go outside in the cold no matter how many jackets he has on bc it reminds him of the dementors and gf!reader helps him work through it.

I made some changes from your request so I hope it's okay with you! Of course if it's not, I'm terribly sorry and feel free to request again and I will definitely rewrite it exactly how you requested. Otherwise, thank you so much for the request, I loved this idea so much and i hope you love what I made out of it!

Cold

Sirius Black x reader

Summary; I hate making these.

Words; 1041

Warnings; ptsd, flashbacks, trauma, yk, the usual with our boy Sirius

This made me want Christmas so bad, I had to fight not to add a Christmas theme in here (I fr should've tho)

Anywho, please request guys. I absolutely love bringing your guys' ideas to life. It makes me so happy! (And if you like my writing and wanna be added to my marauders tag list just comment and your wish shall be my command 😉)

Y/n had always loved the snow. The pure sight of the white powder in the winter filled her with joy. Therefore, it’s safe to say that when she awoke to the sight of it outside her window she was beyond ecstatic. She was so excited she immediately started squealing and searching her closet for her snow clothes.

“What’s got you so excited?” Her husband asked, walking out of the bathroom with his towel hanging low on his waist. Y/n paused and smiled at him, walked over and pushed a piece of wet hair out of his eyes.

“You cut it again.” She observed.

He nodded, “That I did.”

“It’s snowing.”

He smiled, “That it is.”

“Will you go outside with me? We can have a snowball fight and build snowmen.” She suggested, eyes sparkling.

Sirius laughed softly, “Yes, I will, love.”

Once they were properly dressed for the cold weather, Y/n ran out of the door, immediately sticking her tongue out to try and catch snowflakes. Sirius would have never guessed the cold would bother him, it never really had before. However, when he took a step out of the door and his mind flashed to his cell in Azkaban, he was thoroughly shaken. He tried to ignore it, but when the cold fully engulfed him he couldn’t stop it. 

All he could think about is the feeling of the dementors as they passed his cell, the cold that overtook every one of his senses. He looked around the area hurriedly, not noticing the girl he loved begin to walk over cautiously. He remembered what it felt like at the lake as it froze over, the dementors flying above him, desperately trying to suck his soul from him. 

“Sirius?” He flinched at the sight of the hooded figure floating in front of him, its face nearing his. He stepped back, pulling out his wand with a shaky hand.

“S-stay away!” He warned, although he knew it was no use. Dementors didn’t feel fear, they wouldn’t be intimidated by him. When the figure instead neared, his wand dropped to the ground as he stepped back again. His back hit a wall and he sat down, curling into a ball and shutting his eyes tight, desperately hoping for the dementor to leave him alone. 

He flinched at the sound of a door shutting, but as warmth once again soothed his skin he slowly lifted his head. Through blurry vision he could make out Y/n kneeling in front of him. His Y/n. He wasn’t at Azkaban anymore, he was home. She wasn’t a dementor, she was herself. She was his wife. 

“Sirius?” She whispered, softly placing her hand on his knee.

“Y/n?” He asked, just in case.

“Yes, my love, it’s me. It’s Y/n.” She said warmly. “It’s just Y/n. No one else.”

“I’m scared.” His body trembled as she pulled him up for a hug, he graciously let her.

“I know. It’s okay to be afraid.” He clutched tightly onto her body, silent tears falling onto her jacket. “You’re safe, love, you’re safe. You’re okay.” She pulled away and softly placed a hand onto his cheek. “Look at me, it’s just me. Just me, no one else.” Y/n repeated and he nodded shakily. “Sh, just breathe, Sirius. You’re okay.” She gently rubbed his cheek as he took strangled breaths, slowly feeling the panic leaving his body.

Sirius gave her a small smile, “Thank you. I didn’t know that would happen. I’m so sorry you couldn’t enjoy the snow and had to deal with me instead.” He said, hanging his head low shamefully.

Y/n gently lifted Sirius’ head and placed a soft kiss on his lips, pulling away only to rest her forehead against his.

“Don’t you ever apologize for something like that Sirius. It is not your fault. It’s a totally normal response, I’m not gonna hold it against you.”

Sirius sighed and pulled her into another hug, resting his face in the crook of her neck. “I love you.” He said quietly.

Y/n hugged back immediately, “I love you more.” She whispered back.

“Are you ready?” Y/n asked, holding tightly onto Sirius’ hand.

He shook his body in an attempt to get rid of the nerves filling his body, “I was born ready, it’s just a bit of cold. If Moony can be a freaking werewolf his whole life, I can go out into the snow.”

“I’m not sure about that, scaredy cat.” Remus said from behind the two, a teasing smile on his face as he held tightly onto his bundled up toddler.

Sirius rolled his eyes, “I’m a dog, idiot.” His eyes lit up. “I’m a dog!”

“What an obtuse observation, Pads.” 

“Remus, be nice.” Y/n scolded.

“Yeah, be nice, papa.” Teddy said quietly.

Remus looked at the girl, “You’re turning my child against me.”

Y/n held her hands up with a smile, “That’s all you, Moons.”

“Wait, guys, I’m a dog. Dogs don’t get cold. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy..” Sirius explained and transformed into his animagus before running out of the open door.

Y/n smiled as her and her lifelong friend walked out as well, “He’s doing it.” She said as she watched the black dog jumping around in the snow.

Remus laughed as he set Teddy down. Immediately the toddler ran to Sirius while giggling and wrapped his arm around the dog's neck. Sirius happily lapped at Teddy’s reddened cheek, giving him slobbery dog kisses.

“Ew!” Teddy exclaimed while laughing and Sirius transformed into a human. He pulled Teddy into a big hug and began spinning around. Their laughter filled the air as Y/n and Remus watched happily.

Teddy ran towards the two with his arms outstretched, “Papa, it’s cold!” He exclaimed, the chill in the air finally getting to him.

Remus leant down and picked the boy up, “Let’s go inside and make some hot cocoa, yeah?”

Teddy hummed while nodding and the two went inside. Sirius walked to his wife and took her hand, spinning her in a circle before placing a firm kiss on her lips.

“For the record-” He whispered once he pulled away. “Dogs do get cold.”

baby taglist; @1lellykins @loving-and-dreaming

[kholnt]

I just wanted to say how much I looooooovvveeee your Lost Link fic! I love the idea of what would happen if Wild remembered his past. I wanted to know how you think his knight training went? I definitely think that it was a terrible experience that gave him a whole wagon full of horrible coping mechanisms and bad habits(and from where the fic is going, I'm guessing you think similarly), but I wanted to know how you thought his training went. Anyway, just wanted to say how much I appreciate and love your work, Thank You!

WAAAH THANK YOU FOR YOUR KIND WORDS!!! (but give all of the writing credit to @/eponatheestallion <33 cannot emphasize that enough) BUT! you basically got it in one! his knight training was NOT kind to him in the slightest. i mean, even with the canon material we HAVE it still doesn't particularly spell a good time. (staring at mipha, zelda and purah's diaries respectively. and creating a champion. and possibly aoc but thats a different timeline + i barely know anything abt it so its there In Spirit) i will warn you that this ones gonna be long bc botw diaries TEND TO BE YAP SESSIONS! AND im a yapper so i'll just give you the tldr:

lost's knight training was abhorrent for his mental health and plays into a LOT of his mannerisms and why he is the way he is

ANYWAY! i'll just talk abt things that have been established either in the au or in botw canon :) any blanks you can fill on your own

as for canon things heres some things that stood out to me (formatted to be paragraphs for my sanity):

"A youth named Link was brought to me a hundred years ago, covered in wounds and on death's doorstep. Link… So young, yet so courageous. He was the youngest knight to have ever been appointed to the Imperial Guard at Hyrule Castle. He was also a gifted swordsman who was selected as captain of Princess Zelda's personal guard. I thought his skills would be enough to defeat Ganon in glorious fashion…

It was the best we could do…" -Purah's Diary

~~~~~

"When I finally got around to asking why he's so quiet all the time, I could tell it was difficult for him to say. But he did. With so much at stake, and so many eyes upon him, he feels it necessary to stay strong and to silently bear any burden.

A feeling I know all too well… For him, it has caused him to stop outwardly expressing his thoughts and feelings. I always believed him to be simply a gifted person who had never faced a day of hardship. How wrong I was… Everyone has struggles that go unseen by the world… I was so absorbed with my own problems, I failed to see his." -Zelda's Diary ~~~~~

"At the request of Hyrule's king, a group of outsiders came to greet us at the domain. One of them was a Hylian child of only about four years of age. His name was Link. He made quite a first impression. He was curious and full of energy, with a ready smile. Are all Hylian children that way?

One thing that surely sets him apart is his swordsmanship, which I hear is exceptional. He has even bested adults. He must be somewhat reckless, however, as he was covered in bruises. Wishing to be helpful, I healed his wounds for him." ~~~~~

"Link came to visit the domain. It feels like forever since he was here last. He no longer resembles the child I first met. He is now an accomplished knight and keeper of the sword that seals the darkness. I am so proud. However… He hardly speaks anymore, and smiles even more rarely. He is still the kind soul I knew, but something has changed.

I asked him if something had happened, if something was wrong. He merely shook his head. Perhaps it is his newly acquired height, but I feel he is ever looking past me, into the distance beyond…" -Mipha's Diary

~~~~~ "The details of how Link obtained the sword a hundred years ago have been lost to the mists of time, but since he was in possession of it for a number of years prior to becoming a Champion, he was likely around twelve or thirteen years old when it happened."

~~~~~

"After the Champions for the Divine Beasts were chosen, there was an incident at Hyrule Castle. A Guardian went berserk during a test run. Link deftly defeated it, earning himself a great deal of recognition. Impressed, King Rhoam made him Princess Zelda's appointed knight. With no regard for his own personal safety, he loyally fulfilled his duty to guard Princess Zelda with his life." -Creating a Champion

(there will be another thing later but its separated for a Reason.) ANYWAY! these are like. BIG things in canonical material that I feel like are important, especially if they're highlighted. i'm not really going to elaborate much since its kind of spelled out already but i'll say a few things nonetheless (also for consistencies sake i'm going to say lost but do know this ALSO applies to wild) he was the youngest knight appointed in history. like even that alone is FUCKED??? i don't remember if it was something in canon, fanon or something kay n i made up (but it doesnt rlly matter since its canon to the lost hero au ANYWAY!) but he became a knight at TWELVE soon after pulling the sword. then proceeded to become a royal guard at 17. this is a kid surrounded by adults in a generally Unsafe Environment, that alone is enough for some level of fucked. ill explain the "hes been training since he was four" later since i have Thoughts about that, but on a unrelated note do notice that mipha makes the assumption that lost is reckless and not through actually seeing him being clumsy. hyrulean guard when i get you now, to me the vow of silence was something that stemmed from before the calamity and started up in his training. because thats a twelve year old being forced to be a hero when he never got the choice to. OBVIOUSLY hes going to shut down. again, this will be expanded upon later also. lost is canonically self sacrificial. VERY self sacrificial. no further comments, just saying OKAY. NOW ITS LATER BC ITS TIME TO YAP ABT THE "inspired by canon but like. its canon plus." canon is bent in specific ways bc the way link is characterized (in cac specifically) makes him very uh,,,, inhuman i suppose. i love looking at scenarios where decisions have consequences, and it's that specific reason why i enjoy "what if" aus so much.

yes, lost was still trained when he was four. no it was not formally. to me, lost had an interest in swordsmanship because his dads a knight! hes going to be exposed to at least a little bit at an early age. he was insistent on wanting to learn, so with the power of sticks, pot lids, and a lot of positive reinforcement, he learned how to do the movements of swordfighting. he'd never been given a proper sword until the guard brought him to zora's domain. lost's dad never wanted to force the position of hero onto him, so he never gave him a sword. everyone knows that he's the hero except him, and lost's dad would rather keep it that way until he's old enough to climb mount lanayru (it happens much earlier than that) now abt the fucking "According to tales told by the long-lived Zora, Link visited Zora's Domain when he was younger and formed a bond with them, defeating a Lynel and teaching various skills to Zora children. This story sheds light on both his physical abilities and his strength of character." from creating a champion just like. isn't canon in this. the only other recorded time lost fought a lynel in zoras domain was when he was already zelda's guard and he was not younger. so by proxy it must've been when he was four WHICH ISN'T HAPPENING SORRY GUYS!!!! i'm not having a four year old fight a lynel hero or not!!!! it's referenced in lost hero canon (the soldiers accompanied made jokes and tried to egg lost on but it got shut down real quick since a. his dad was there and b. literally anyone who have thinking caps would go "yeah um... no actually!") and now its fanon time :))) when lost was in the army, he was usually trained separately from the other knights, mostly because of skill difference. as a CHILD he was able to clear soldiers, he needed different training period. as for the actual formal training, it was extremely strict. terrible conditions stemmed from an awful reward "system" (that usually led to lost being extremely fatigued and starting an endless loop of punishment. there is a reason why lost can push through awful conditions: hes used to it) all blanketed with the justification of "he's the hero of hyrule." they trained him to be a weapon, not a person. he doesn't have a sense of self nor an identity outside of "hero" "champion" or "weapon." things like "brother" got stripped from him when he joined the academy. they didn't bother with setting up a future for him. he eventually figures his shit out but thats YEARS down the line, and even then he's still suffering from this,,,, self objectification? idk how else to describe it when he wasn't getting grilled for "not swinging his sword hard enough" or having his foot a centimeter off even though he hasnt had the privilege of Basic Necessities To Survive in (insert timeframe) he was usually doing something in the coliseum. as it turns out, having the hero show off in front of an audience by fighting a lynel (or multiple) is a GREAT money maker! shame he wasnt usually told beforehand!

being forced into heroism is a big reason as to why hes the silent knight. he never wanted this. being separated from his family (whom of which i have Many thoughts about. same for his childhood honestly) and surrounded by strangers who have no care for who he is but rather what he stands for was absolutely awful, and only made worse by his age. being silent and just dealing with it is how he coped, and its eventually going to boil over (just give it a few years) his knight training was one of THE worst things to happen to him, right under failing to save his kingdom and inadvertently being the cause of hyrule's demise. it's the reason why he acts the way he does. he wasn't allowed to forget, so instead it influences almost everything he does, says and thinks. SO YEAH IT WASNT A GOOD TIME

[dranna]

Be Careful what you Wish for - a Wish rewrite

~ Prologue ~

Chapter 1

summary:

King Magnifico created his kingdom to protect his people because he knows what tragedies one single wish can cause, however when one entitled 17-year-old girl decided that the way he is dealing with the population's wishes is 'unacceptable', he must step in to protect the inhabitants of his kingdom, even if it means he has to use the book, he swore to never touch again...

Who is the villain and who is the hero?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ contents: noting clear yet but there will be graphic descriptions of violence and death later on, Asha is the villain of the story, there is NO goat. I’ll add the warnings at the beginning of every chapter <3

a/n: I started writing during sleepless nights. I didn't watch the whole movie bc I didn't find it enjoyable from the start, so there will be a lot of things from my imagination. I would say I stopped watching it around the 30 minutes mark ^^’

I've never written anything longer then a one shot, so it will be an interesting journey for me. Thank you for stopping by and reading it:)

- English is not my first language -

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Once upon a time, there was a young and passionate man, serving a rotted and jealous king. The king had everything he wanted: immense wealth where gold grew like grass everywhere he stepped, a huge kingdom where peace bloomed in every corner, loyal men, women, happy children but  the most important of all: Power. 

However he wanted more . 

Since he walked on this earth, he had everything his heart wished for. So now, as he was sitting on his icy gold throne made by busy hands for a spoiled child, he commended the youthful man to create something for him. An object that will turn into something terrible, evil and full of hate, masked with the promise of unlimited knowledge. 

“Magnifico” - he once called the hopeful lad - “ you are the greatest apprentice I could ask for, loyal to my crown and your homeland..” - the king started his poisonous honey speech, whispering harmless sounding lies into his ear.  Besides being young and full of hope, Magnifico was also a naive and trusting soul. He listened to his king’s lies, never doubting the intent behind his tongue.  “ I have a great wish I need you to fulfill. I want you to design a book, which contains all knowledge of sorcery. A book! If someone reads from it, they magically become the most powerful in the world!” 

What wrong can one wish do?  Hung the question above the sorcerer's head, as he excited the throne room. 

Magnifico was so excited to create this book. He imagined true things being done with his creation: helping people? Putting a stop to the gut wrenching illnesses of humanity? Stopping wars , and — oh! Spawn food out of thin air?  In his mind the possibilities were endless.  However, never in his wildest nightmares could he think about the events which were born from his work. 

His loving wife warned him many times, asked, weeped and begged to not do something so terrific yet marvelous for a man like the king, but Magnifico didn’t listen. It was the first of his lists of mistakes, which will burden him until the rest of his life.

  He worked all day and all night, warm ideas filling his brain and heart, not letting him sleep during nights. A productive fire ate through his muscles and bones, illuminating the twinkling of his azure- blue eyes. 

After months of hard work, he presented the book to the king. 

Upon opening the elegant cover, cosy, silver light-strokes were omitted from the beautifully crafted pages. They gently covered the book opener, always willing to be changed, used and shared. 

To Magnifico’s horror, as months went by, his pure creation started to transform into something vile, painful and barbaric under the hands of his once beloved king. The silver light slowly darkened and lost its welcoming glow, just to make place to dark green, seaweed and tentacle-like forms. They snaked around the sorcerer who opened the earthly cell, bounding and chaining him in both physique and soul, never letting him go. 

The book consumed the king more and more, and with him wasted away his kingdom and its inhabitants. 

Magnifico couldn’t bear to see his creation causing more devastation, he stole the book from the half-dead king leaving him and his wealth to rot. 

With the knowledge he learned about magic and wishes, he created a kingdom with his wife on his side. Promising himself, that he never let any wish to destroy the happiness of his people.  And the book? He locked it deep in his castle, displaying it in his study room as a trophy of shame and deep regret, laughing and creeping its freezing fingers in blood, which he will never be able to wash clean. 

[perhapsisuppose]

you. give me your ninjago headcanons

the joy that surged through me.

i have a LOT

my faves tho are related around what they’d look like as humans

cole - definitely a big guy, super strong, would have darker skin and cool hair. i sometimes see people hc him as blasian or indian and both of those ARE SO FITTING

I fully and firmly believe cole is a metaphor for being gay

the royal blacksmiths ep in s1 is smth i have always felt was a subtle nod to the struggle of being gay and having a “double life” where he was nervous to tell his dad.

zane - either darker skin for human form or just the titanium (i think he’s a metaphor for autism 😈)

jay - white. canadian, probably. freckled everywhere, redhead bs, etc. (my adhd twin) the thinnest ninja, my guy is muscly but thin.

nya and kai - asian, tan skin, nya is definitely taller after s8 when they all start to grow up. nya’s bulky but kai is on the thinner side.

lloyd - asian, sometimes i see him portrayed as tan, and sometimes white. either work in my head. he’s not that thin, probably middle build.

—

random ones i’ve collected :

- jay’s special interest is video games, hence why they pop up as a constant interest for him throughout seasons, unlike the baking and cooking he mentions in the pilot (those were definitely his past fixations.)

- jay has a knack for inventing and tinkering - maybe it was a past fixation because it did fade as nya took the character role of “inventor”

- kai thinks cole is probably the hottest dude he’s ever seen, whether romantically or platonically is up to you, but he’s definitely had at least one fleeting homo thought

- jay and zane stim and talk over robotics and tech for hours. nya often walks in and joins, but will leave after they fall down another inevitable rabbit hole.

- lloyd dyes his hair blonde. he was born with terrifyingly bright blonde hair, but it became darker into a light brown with his rapid aging in s2. he just prefers the blonde.

- misako 100% has had some cheating-ass romantic interaction with wu while garm was out of the picture.

- harumi doesn’t love lloyd. she loves the idea of him. all she wanted was to be protected, and here’s the easy-to-manipulate, powerful, and cute green ninja - her easiest way to feel in control, whether subconscious or not at first.

- while arguing about nya with kai, jay has definitely pulled something like “what, you want me to marry you instead, asshole??” “you can say you’re jealous.”

- cole and jay have a closer bond than many.

- during the early seasons when cole was “interested” in nya, i hc that as him either experimenting or caring for her and confusing it for romantic love.

- nya struggles to say ‘i love you’ directly to jay due to the intense vulnerability it fills her with. she shows it in many other ways, and regrets not saying it sooner before seabound

- jay is insecure about this. ^

- that one archer ghost from s5 who wanted ronan’s soul bc of some deal he made was DEFINITELY into him. or vice versa.

- pythor and scales are 100% a divorced couple. how would that work lore-wise? it wouldn’t. they just are.

- chen is into the most fucking kinky shit you could ever fathom. he was alone on that island for a long, long time.

and is insane.

—

IF I THINK OF MORE OR IVE FORGOTTEN SOME, ILL TELL U!!!!

YIPPEEEE

[darkstar225]

Twice's 10th member and her protective Mama Bear Jihyo

A/N: Heyyy, I'm coming back strong lol! Sry for taking so long to post but finally the semester ended :D I hope that my incredible bestie @yellothermate that gave me this idea on Tumblr likes it! :)

The request: hello bestie boo, loved the new chapter it was wonderful amazing 10/10 would recommend, anyways Im just requesting more angry mama bear Jihyo bc she is a baddie and we love it im mainly thinking back when they had their debut and Jihyo had her red hair maybe something with people saying on a vlive that 10th member was too young or didn't fit the beauty standerd enough and Jihyo was not having it 😏

PS: Tysm for everyone that reads what I write, I hope I can bring a smile to your faces every time I post! I'd like to thank whoever sent me this idea 'cause I loved to write it <3

__________________________________________________________

The stage was set, the lights were dimmed, and the anticipation among the crowd was palpable. It was a moment that would mark the beginning of something extraordinary. TWICE, the renowned K-pop girl group was about to make their long-awaited debut, and their fans were beyond excited. Among the members, there was a young girl named Y/N, the tenth and youngest member of the group. She was filled with nerves and excitement as she stood backstage, waiting for her turn to shine. The maknae had a distinct beauty (such as Hwasa, Chaeryeong and many more, I don't get the hate like ??), with her innocent charm and youthful energy that captured the hearts of many. But there were those who doubted her, who believed she was too young and not able to "fit" with the industry's beauty standards.

Jihyo, TWICE's fierce leader, stood beside TWICE's angel, her fiery red hair falling gracefully around her face. She was known for her unwavering confidence and protective nature towards her members. Jihyo had heard the murmurs and whispers about her baby, and it ignited a fire within her that burned brighter than ever. As the music began to play, the members of TWICE took their positions on the stage. The audience erupted in cheers, their excitement reaching a crescendo. One by one, each member showcased their talent, captivating the audience with their charisma and skill. And then, it was Jihyo's sunshine's turn. She stepped forward, her heart pounding in her chest, and a determined look in her eyes. The doubts and criticisms echoed in her mind, threatening to dampen her spirit. But she refused to let them define her. She took a deep breath and unleashed her energy, dancing with a passion that was beyond her years. Her performance was electrifying, drawing the audience into her world. As Y/N danced her heart out, Jihyo stood off to the side, her eyes fixed on the stage with a permanent motherly smile. She couldn't help but feel a surge of anger, fueled by the comments she had heard about her precious babygirl. The audacity of those who dared to undermine her talent and beauty!

Jihyo's grip on her microphone tightened as she walked towards the front of the stage. The music faded, and the crowd fell silent, their attention now focused on the fiery leader. Jihyo's voice rang out, filled with a mixture of authority and righteous indignation as she cut through the tension.

Jihyo - Let me make something clear, our maknae may be young, but she is a force to be reckoned with. She may not fit your narrow definition of beauty, but she possesses a beauty that shines from within. And that is more than enough.

The audience erupted in applause, their admiration for Jihyo's words palpable. Jihyo continued, her voice growing stronger with each passing moment as she took note of the smile on her member's face.

Jihyo - Y/N has worked tirelessly to be here, to stand on this stage with us. She has poured her heart and soul into her craft, and she deserves every ounce of recognition and respect. So, to those who dare to belittle her, I have one thing to say: don't you dare underestimate my child. She is strong, she is talented, and she is worthy.

The leader's words resonated through the venue, and a newfound determination radiated from Y/N. The doubts that had plagued her were replaced by a fierce resolve. She knew she had the support of her members, her fans, and most importantly, her mama bear Jihyo. At the end of the speech, said girl stood on that stage, basking in the adoration of her fans, she couldn't help but feel a surge of gratitude towards her wonderful mama bear. In her anger, Jihyo had unleashed a force that would forever change the narrative, proving that age and beauty were nothing compared to the power of self-belief and unwavering support. The crowd erupted in thunderous applause, their cheers shaking the very foundation of the venue. Jihyo, her eyes gleaming with pride, stepped forward and joined Y/N on the stage. She wrapped her arms around the youngest member, a protective embrace that spoke volumes while whispering into her kiddo's ear, her voice filled with triumph.

Jihyo - I told you, didn't I? You are a force to be reckoned with. Never doubt yourself again lovebug.

The maknae nodded, tears of joy streaming down her face. She had overcome the doubts and criticisms, emerging stronger than ever. And it was all thanks to the unwavering belief and love of her mama bear Jihyo. From that moment forward, TWICE's honey embraced her unique beauty and talent, unapologetically showcasing her skills on stage. And with each performance, she silenced the doubters and proved that age and appearance were insignificant when it came to true talent. As TWICE's journey continued, Jihyo remained a constant pillar of strength for her lovely youngest. She fiercely protected her from criticism and showered her with love and guidance. And together, they defied the odds, forging a bond that was unbreakable. Y/N grew and blossomed under Jihyo's watchful eye, becoming a beacon of inspiration for young girls everywhere. She showed them that they didn't have to conform to society's beauty standards to be successful. Their worth was defined by their talent, their perseverance, and their determined spirit (I hope this gets to the right people, you're all beautiful inside and out and society is not the one that should define that).

In the years that followed, Y/N and Jihyo became a dynamic duo, a force that could not be underestimated. They shattered glass ceilings and broke barriers, proving time and time again that age and beauty were irrelevant in the face of true talent and determination. And as TWICE reached new heights of success, they never forgot the journey they had taken together. TWICE's sugar, now a seasoned performer, looked back on her debut days with a smile. The comments and doubts that had once haunted her were a distant memory, replaced by the unwavering support of her fans and the fierce love of her mama bear Jihyo. Together, they had rewritten the narrative, not just for Y/N but for every person who had ever been told they weren't enough. They had shown the world that beauty came in all shapes, sizes, and ages, and that true success was measured by the impact one made on others.

I am proud of my dear readers.

A/N: I apologise for any errors, English is not my first language. Pls, let me know if there's something wrong, ty for reading <3