#but the POINT (one of them) of fanfiction is the MISSING SCENES

[halflingkima]

recent google searches: how to gently explain to booktokkers that i don't disregard their fravorite "smut" bc i'm a prude, but bc it's bad writing

[inumakis-boo]

TOGE INUMAKI ⟢. ݁₊⋆.˚ ༘♡˚

fanfiction synopsis ␥ you and toge inumaki are both in your third year of jujustu high, but youve barely spent a moment alone yet. when you do on a saturday night, you realize exactly why you need to "hang out" more // aka, the first step to being friends with benefits.. hooking up the first time.

word count - 4,629 // hope you enjoy! tw obviously.

You would have never guessed how this night would end, compared to its beginning. Like something you would have read in a terrible booktok novel with its cliches and tropes- but you could have never understood how even cliches, imitate life.

It was finally Saturday night, and all of the second and third years sat in Itadori’s room, with the dim blue LED lights circling them, and posters of clad women on the wall to give off the perfect teenage boy aesthetic. Some game was going on the TV and both Itadori and Nobara had been occupying everyone's attention with their shouting and cheers as they fought on screen.

You didn’t know exactly how or why or when, someone had swiped a bottle of something, and now it lay on the mats on the floor, empty with a broken seal. At least everyone had gotten more than a few sips of the fire in the bottle, and you struggled to swallow it, but you still smiled after and laughed. It made the stress of training on the body at least feel a little better as your fingertips buzzed.

Nobody checked the time, and everyone laid out on his bed, on the floor, on the desk and chair. It wouldn’t be too much of a problem- all the teachers would be gone for the weekend. After all, they were all old enough that Satoru Gojo wouldn’t have to babysit constantly, right?

They sat, comfortably then, letting the TV be loud and the shouting obnoxious.

It had taken you awhile to notice, but one member had been missing for the last few minutes with no explanation. You double-checked the room and did not see the violet-eyed boy sitting anywhere. He had last taken a few sips of the bottle and beat Itadori in a game, before at some point dipping for.. whatever reason.

Perhaps he had gotten sick or was fetching something? You decided to go check it out. You silently got up off the floor and didn’t pay much attention as everyone laughed at Itadori dying for the 7th time tonight.

The hallway was darker than usual, but it was probably too late anyway. Moonlight shone through the panes of the window, their crossed shapes decorating the hardwood down the hall, each window revealing the silky glow from the outside. Your eyes followed down and caught to one pattern disturbed.

You follow it up and see the one you were checking on, leaning on the window sill, soaking up the moonlight. It glimmered against the pale skin of his face but did not fade the marks around his mouth.

You slowly walk over, and he tears his eyes from the scene towards you and smiles a little. Instinctually, he pulls out his phone.

“You look happy.” You remark, and his smile grows as he types into the notes app.

// Just felt like walking around, but seeing you here is better. //

You were familiar with his real personality beyond the curse lodged in his throat, the silly and rather typical teenage boy attitude in everything he did. But for some odd reason, it was seeing it face to face was a difference. You had only maybe a few conversations with him before over text, and while you trained together in class, didn’t mean you were used to him yet.

// Something happen? //

“Nah.” You lean on the sill with your body, feeling the open breeze come in. “You're not missing anything.”

He just smirks with a little head shake, and his eyes that had met yours look back to the sill.

// I won’t keep you here, //  He types as you look over. // I should be back soon. //

“I’m not in a rush to watch Megumi and Itadori argue about the game rules again.” You smile and snicker. “Out here is nice.”

// Not surprised about that at all // He snickers aloud, // I would like company. //

The moonlight and the random liquor someone brought must have been messing with your senses- He felt welcoming and charming, and in this space, it was more private than anywhere else.

“You had plenty of company in there.” You bring it up, but he just shrugs. Perhaps he wasn’t asking for that kind of head-ache-inducing company.

He scrolled up again to the first note.

// ..it is better seeing you here.//

What was happening with your stomach? It was like something was bubbling up, in a good way. He gazed with an interested eye. and you tried to hold back a dopey grin.

He turns to face away from the window and stretches. You watch him turn back to you, his face now in the dark of the hall. He types-

//I am going to go back to my room, wanna me to walk you back to everyone else?//

“W-What?” You stutter embarrassingly, then clear your throat- “Nono, you don’t have to. It is only down the hall. Let me walk you instead.”

Ah, his smile was so genuine, and he brushed back his hair for a moment before shrugging. A visual okay.

You begin to walk with Him down the silver halls, cusping your hands in yours, watching as you walk in step, his dorm slippers on with his casual sweatpants and navy t-shirt. He wanted to be comfortable- it wasn’t even the first time you had seen him in casual clothes.. although it was more of a rare sight to not see his mouth covered.

You blindly follow him to his room, your eyes catching peeks of his face. He still looked like he did last year according to school photos, but his jaw was more defined, and of course, his inky markings had always made themselves apparent. You thought they were interesting, like any tattoo or scar.

His eyes look at you curiously, and you realize you're just staring at him and look away. You don’t look back, even though he brushes his arm against yours. He had little words to say, yet had better social skills than anybody here. It didn’t feel awkward though, it was just a little new. You hadn’t really noticed him before.. nor had you noticed him noticing you.

Both of you arrived at his dorm room, a little wood plaque around his doorknob that was a gift, a salmon emoji that had been painted for him hung there. It was cute, and you watched it as the door opened.

Toge stepped into his room and didn’t bother to flick on the lights, the full moon shining right through his windows. You couldn’t see much but you could smell him from outside of the room, a mix of his shampoo and cologne- fresh and warm. It almost pulled you in.

He turned after he kicked off his slippers, coming back to the door with his notes presented still.

// We should hang out more often. I think you're fun. //

You shake your head with a laugh. How did he come to that conclusion?

“We didn’t even do anything..!” You laugh, rubbing your arms. Toge returns to his phone. “How would you know?”

// Yeah but, I have my reasons, don’t I? Maybe I have a feeling. //

Okay, maybe your knees had good reason to be weak. Was he flirting? His face seemed to say so.

And.. what could happen if you tested the waters? You hadn’t ever flirted with many people before but.. he was just a friend, right?

You look down the hall and bite your lower lip with a smile. “What kind of feeling?”

It is his turn to look away, leaning against the door frame. He is trying to not smile too hard, you can see.

“Are you feeling like.. we should hang out sooner than later?"

You were wondering if others had drunk more than you had, and according to his eyes, sizing you up, you had an inkling that he might've had just enough to not fear with his expressions. If he was truly cautious, he would be covering his mouth, right?

And according to the feeling between your legs, you had little filter to worry about.

He took a step once, then twice until your chests were practically meeting, and he looked like he had already decided what he wanted, and was bold about it. While your heart was still beating, even if rapidly, you wouldn’t stop until you figured him out.

Of course, he typed with one hand by your side, then presented.

// I am feeling like you are curious about me like I am curious about you, and I wanna see more. Only if you wanna. //

He had read you like a book. You licked your lips and sighed, looking up at him. His hair had been pushed back some since he arrived at his dorm, and the warmth from his body mixed with his cologne was driving you nuts. You wondered how toned he was under these clothes- and wondered if he thought about you the same way.

“If you're so curious..” Your hand slipped onto his pec- firm and warm. “How about you come find out?”

That would do it- one smirk and another step and his lips were pressing against yours. So softly at first, but once your hand had slowly crept up his neck and pulled him just a tad closer, you could feel the intensity rise, his tongue running across your lips and into your open mouth, hands running up and down your hips, never pulling you further but always closer.

Then you could feel him moving back and pulling you with him. You were still in the hallway outside of his dorm, after all. You accepted it- and had no room to even protest. He was too good of a kisser and knew exactly how to take control, not much of a surprise there.

By the time you had started paying attention again, you heard the decoration on his door tap on the door as it closed shut, and realized vaguely you were in a dark room with his boy that just moments ago, considered nothing more than friendly with.

How far this was going to go or fear of being caught was honestly the last thing on your mind. He had reiled you up and at this point, he could have anything he asked for. He wanted to know, he needed to know.

You let his tongue slip into your mouth as his hands run underneath your shirt, his hands on your skin sending you even more haywire. It was addictive, and you were determined to make the same reaction out of him- if not better.

You let your fingers curl in his hair, pushing him forward more, his warm sigh against your cheek telling you how much he was enjoying this. He deserved it, for being so nice to you, and coming onto you like that, making you feel so nervous and witty. You let him guide you to somewhere in his room, and suddenly you can feel the edge of something behind your ass. You were slightly pinned to the end of his bed frame, just enough to keep you from running away.

His knee slowly dragged between the gap of your legs, and the proximity made you sigh in appreciation. He hummed, yet didn’t dare leave your lips. He was being so explorative, passionately involved in every toss of your tongue in your mouth and every patch of skin he touched. His fingertips were dragging across your flesh, and the entire time you could barely keep yourself sane enough to touch him back.

But you did- starting at his navel, just to make him sigh through his nose as his kisses traveled from your mouth to your neck and ear, the brush of his face and lips making you want to squirm with delight. Then, the palm of your hand, just teasing enough, palmed his firm abs, defined so perfectly that you could imagine them in your dreams just by touch alone- but here you were, touching his so wantingly. Your fingertips, like his, grazed so temptingly across his obliques, feeling their tightness and the rumble in his chest easily.

At this point, his shirt was bunching at your wrists, and as a final act of teasing, simply made a motion to pull it up, and meeting violet eyes as he did could’ve made you sink to your knees at a moment. His eyes were lidded and needy, and his lips were pinker with friction, and you could only imagine if he was the type to leave marks behind.

The white shirt had been tossed, maybe on his desk chair, he clearly hadn’t cared where it ended up, because he was too busy doing the exact same to you. You wouldn’t even break eye contact, wouldn’t dare, as his hands sat right below your bra, and could feel the urge in his grip to just take it off right then and there.

Maybe helping his urges wouldn’t be so bad, right?

You took his hand, and encouraged the back of his, allowing him to sneak under the wire and squeeze your perky tits, watching his eyes return to yours as he squeezed on his own.

There was no way you were returning to your dorm room tonight.

Next thing you knew, your bra wire was sitting right near the top of your breasts as he had leaned down, holding his head as he licked and sucked on the hard nipples, rolling one in the other hand. It was erotic, watching his tongue, marked with the scar of his curse, flicking your cute buds to make your body jello in his hands. It was extremely hot, and you knew that these panties were going to be ruined by the time you let him tear them off of you.

Speaking of underwear, you forced his head to lay next to your neck, returning his lower half to be in your grasp, and immediately got to work palming at the other. He sure was enjoying that attention, letting you fondle your smaller hand against his clothed thickness, shuttering at the idea of sitting right on it. The lewd thoughts were going a mile a minute, and you weren’t planning on stopping.

He continued to pull at your sensitive little buds as you fondled him, his breath becoming heavy against your neck as you thoroughly got an idea of what to expect- but hands wandered on his side, and you knew that his long fingers were not going to be idle much longer. His entire hand curled around your mound over your sweatpants, and the pressure in his fingertips along your pantied slit was driving you nuts.

But, with bra abandoned on the floor, he moved you with his hand still on your crotch to the side of the bed, his forehead against yours as he switched places and sat down first, then brought you into his lap.

You could tell he was not going to be rough in manhandling you, just simply moving you just to better fit his need to touch you, and the touch alone was enough to make it obvious how wet you were- and he became very aware the moment he dragged down the band of your sweatpants to reveal the heat of your pussy, throbbing with need for any kind of friction, by anything.

You could hear the hum in his throat, the holding back of a groan as he touched the lace of your underwear and found it moist, clearly satisfied with all that had been hidden before. You could feel the grind of his cock against your ass as he leaned back more into the headboard and pillows, making your torso almost barely sit up, while your legs were pulled apart so easily by setting them on opposite sides of his own knees. You were so bare, and his fingers trailing around your clit, throbbing with need, was enough to make you moan into the air, your chest rising with the lighting going through you.

“Be quiet.” The command shot through you instantly, and your mouth closed, only faint whimpers lodged in your throat managing to make any noise- anyone could hear, of course, it was late.

But no- that was only one half of the coin. The other half was being able to hear the gushing noises as he softly slapped your wet folds, just enough to hear it, and being forced to hear how needy you had become. His other hand held your jaw close to his neck, and let you cover your whimpers there. You moved your ass against his length just below, but he wasn’t done here.

One finger had slipped in so easily with all the lubrication gushing out of you, but the second dreadful finger had entered so achingly slow, pushing your insides slowly apart as he made a few experimental pumps before sinking them deep and curling, slow at first then faster and faster.

You weren’t going to make it like this. You were bound to cum, splayed out like a breeding slut for him, taking his fingers as he fucks you so earnestly, and sighs and grunts like he is fucking you, all the while not even having the pleasure to groan out yourself- only forced to hear how much your pussy needed his cock soon, and by soon, you meant thirty minutes ago, out in the hall way in the moonlight outside of Itadoris bedroom.

“Haah..” He grazed your ridges so slowly that you almost came, his thumb flicking your swollen clit too many times to count. He was too good at this.

You couldn’t handle it anymore- it was either you were going to cum here, or he would fuck you. Or both. Hopefully both.

Your fingertips grab onto his waist band and try to pull it down, but the angle is hard and you almost grow frustrated. He only bites his lip, forces your head so he can kiss you, and drags his own pants down, lifting both of you up to do so briefly.

Your first contact with his cock is when it slaps against your wet folds, the tip of his dick just brush so teasingly against your slit that you can barely imagine how you would somehow fit it in your throat eventually (hopefully, eventually, if she made it out alive.)

Now he was gasping, the mix of the delicate heat on his shaft, the wetness leaking from your needy hole, and his tiphead rubbing against your clit was even driving him insane. His hands were bruisingly gripping your waist, keeping you still as he slides up and down, shifting his hips to graze his tip all around your folds.

“P-Please, Toge-” You manage out when he gets weaker, your watery eyes and whimpering tone catching his ear immediately. “I want y-you to fuck me.”

He wouldn’t resist that kind of plea, not when he himself wasn’t sure how much longer he was going to last- fuck it, he would use his curse to go longer if he needed too, as long as he was buried inside your cunt when it happened.

You felt it, instantly as the tip of his cock buried slowly into your hole, finally, stretching so good you were ready to about give up and let him take you anyway he wished. He was not going to let that happen though, you had to witness it all, how good he was laying it down.

The shaft went deeper and deeper until you felt the tip graze your delicate cervix, even with this much preparation, you still knew it was going to be bruised tomorrow morning. Fuck it, what did you care. Toge Inumaki was going to fuck you, and hearing his whimpering as he finally hit his base against your folds was like music to your ears.

He pumped it in, slowly and surely, until the pumps couldn't be timed anymore as he was, becoming steady thrusts into your creaming cunt that the hand on your jaw moved to your lips to block any noise from escaping.

God, his cock was so perfectly heavy just enough to burn your entrance as he entered over and over again, and perfectly long to make you groan into the palm of his hand as he slams it into you. It was too erotic the noise, what was the point of even covering your voice? Between his huffing and the squelching, it would be instantly noticeable to anyone outside the door.

Yet, he fucked your pussy until you could feel all the wetness gather at the base, dripping down his shaft. He didn’t even care beyond holding your mouth in his palm to conceal the noise.

But, he wasn’t done yet. No.. one final trick.

“Sit up and face me.” He whispered, and thank goodness you did not resist whatsoever to spare his voice, already so weak, you found yourself slipping his fat cock out of your needy cunt, and turning around, watching him readjust himself to look at you.

Yep, as expected. Face nothing more than a filthy reaction, dimmed and teary eyes, bitten lips, and red-got ears and cheeks, followed by cute red marks all along your neck, just enough to match your pink, toyed nipples against your pale skin, and finally, hand marks to go right along with glistening folds, already drooling all over the cock in his hand, directed right at your hole.

His hair had long since been pushed back, and his cheeks and lips were the same hue of red, his chest sweaty from bearing your heat on it as he fucked you on your back against it, and finally, silvery hair trimmed right at the base of his hard cock which throbbing and beading with precum.

“Sit on it, like a good girl.”

You had no inclination to do otherwise, feeling the tip enter you again, but this time, so much deeper than you knew another could go. It spreaded you out perfectly, watching as he got a perfect view of your hole, stretched around his dick while your tits sat prettily on your chest, hands stabilizing you on his hips.

You sat fully on it, your insides spazzing as it throbbed inside you, and you watched his face as he relished in the feeling, so completely trying to hold back from the display in front of him.

You wanted him to tell you exactly what to do- you were going to be his plaything tonight, no matter how much embarrassment you would feel in the morning, you were addicted to the idea of this man find every weak spot inside you, and letting him do exactly what he wanted.

He got the memo very fast.

“Bounce up and down, baby.” He whispered again, and your thighs moved, allowing you up and down on his shaft with ease. Even the burning in your thighs had disappeared, thanks to his order. You let his cock pump into your the first few time, watching as he tilted his head back to feel the bare heat, the friction of your ridges inside of you dragging across his head and shaft constantly.

You didn’t tire of watching him, not of him holding your hips and guiding you even though his words had done enough, not tiring of watching his eyes roll back, his mouth opening to moan aloud, his abs squeezing as he control his abdomen from reacting. It was your turn to watch him fall apart, and with all the foreplay with your tits and clit, you thought it well-deserved, if not vengeful.

You gained confidence as you rode him, hearing the slickness coat your thighs then meeting his, creating a sound so erotic it would get you both kicked out of jujutsu high, but you didn’t care when you grabbed his hands from your waist and let them grope at your tits, watching his eyes dilate with the motion of them moving in his hands. It went right to your abdomen as you felt his fingers pull at your already tender nipples.

You weren’t ever going to be the same after this- of course, you fooled around briefly before you joined the third years before Jujustu High, being a late bloomer, but this was going to be part of every wet dream, every shower spent with your fingers deep in your holes, would be about this moment, with his eyes grazing over you like he had a million things to say and command, and you're expected (and will) obey every single one, simply because he could fuck you to the point that you hoped he cummed right inside of you.

The very thought was going to make you explode, right on the base of his cock, you were going to lose all control, and nothing but his words were going to stop it.

But he was waiting for the perfect time- no, he wanted to cum with you, at the same moment, wanted you to cream right inside you as you creamed on him. He was going to make you remember this night, when you discovered all of him.

The sickening slaps had increased, and the effect of his words had worn off, but you didn’t care. The feeling of your g-spot being constantly rubbed into, fucked into, was all that mattered. His hands abandoned your tits for now, and instead, settled right on your face, and brought you down to kiss him. Now, it was his turn.

He trusted his hips deep in your cunt, and if nobody knew you two were fucking, somebody probably knew now. The dick was simply too good to even speak, feeling your lips wet with drool as he kissed you, your tongue being eagerly played with as he entered your mouth. He wanted you to go insane- he refused to be the only one.

Finally, he pressed your forehead against his, with both of your sweaty bodies rubbing together as he fucked your cunt easily with a flick of his hips, your moans and breath sharing the same space between your faces, he couldn’t resist any more. Not any longer could he hold out, now when you looked so prettily drunk on sex.

“I want you to cum.” He managed in a guttural demand. “Right now.”

The squeeze of your walls finally killed him as your racked out a deliciously loud moan turned whine, his hot cum shooting right into your clenching pussy as you leaked all over him, twitching and stuttering and faltering, head meeting his chest and neck as she came hard, right where she wanted to the most.

He holds you with both arms around your back, giving slowing thrusts into your sensitive cunt, tits and chest heaving against his as your whimper and whine, until he finally comes to a stop, and with the missing of friction, comes out his hard cock, and the load dripping onto his navel that he had buried deep inside you.

You were delirious with sex, completely and utterly spent as you panted against his chest, feeling his breath match yours so perfectly it was calming your brain down. You couldn’t stop twitching though, and you didn’t know if and when you would stop.

“Breathe..” He whispered, using probably the last of his energy to calm you down. Of course, it works, and you can feel yourself take a deep breath and release it with a shuttering take.

“Is it okay.. if I stay?”

You could hear the soft noise of him tapping a screen.

// To hang out? //

You smiled weakly, and lifted up a finger to type back.

// yes pls. //

Thank you all for reading! I had rewritten this, it was supposed to much more vague but.. i like this better.

anyways, @inumakisser and @nectardaddy this is for you pookies, i promised fr to deliver.

see ya later!

[paulyenvol6]

As Slow As You Need (Chapter 2)

Marcus Acacius x female reader

Idea by @mrspascalsworld <3

This is the second part of this fanfiction, but there are not many references to the first part, so you could consider this a separate one-shot. Enjoy and there will definitely also be a part 3 :))

Contains: sexual harrassment/assault and attempted rape (not done by Acacius!), soft!Acacius, lots of angst and panic, Acacius being sweet and caring and obsessed with you, fluff, comfort, crying, so many declarations of love, age gap (reader is 23, Acacius' age is not specified but he gets called 'old' a couple of times), mentions of fighting in battles

Wordcount: 8,773

Masterlist

The room was filled with music and chatter people dancing and twirling around but you only had eyes for Acacius.

You needed him close to your body all the time; a hand clinging to his arm or feeling his hand on your thigh and occasionally you feared that he would find you annoying or too needy but soon you realized that your worries were unnecessary.

It was the contrary really; Acacius seeked your presence just as you did his and didn't miss a chance to wrap a possessive arm around your waist or press soft kisses to your cheek. You felt comfortable. Embraced and protected by the man at your side finding that you could overcome anything in the world if only your husband was by your side.

But as it turned out the night didn't continue to be so harmonious and peaceful because at some point you actually ended up separated from Acacius which immediately made you miss the warmth of his body right next to you. A high general had approached him and asked for a private conversation and of course your husband didn't have a choice but to leave you for a moment after squeezing your hand and promising to be back soon.

Now you were alone sipping on your cup of wine while your eyes traveled over the scene before you. It was the first time that all the other generals, politicians and their wives had your undivided attention because Acacius was out of sight - and therefore unable to distract you - and so you took in the people, some familiar faces among them and some new ones.

You were just slowly strolling over the dance floor when someone cleared their throat behind you and so you turned around and the corner of your mouth dropped at the sight of Emperor Geta giving you his creepiest smile.

"My lady," he purred taking your hand in his sweaty one and kissing it.

"Emperor. What an honour it is," you politely spoke although you felt the little hairs on your arms standing up.

He was a difficult human being and saying that you felt uncomfortable in his presence was an understatement. If only Acacius was here at least, you thought searching the room for him but it seemed like he wasn't back yet. Geta straightened up again placing a hand on your bare shoulder which made you slightly twitch and then got closer. Too close for your taste and you unconsciously moved backwards a little.

"Do you think General Acacius is aware of the fact that he is the luckiest man in this room tonight?" Geta said with his oily voice that rang in your ears like shrilly bells pursing his lips while you hoped you were able to hide the disgust on your face.

"Perhaps even the luckiest man alive when I think about it," he continued seemingly blind to your distaste for this conversation. "You're the most beautiful, stunning and thrilling girl in this room, darling. You're radiating."

You clenched your jaw at his words a few angry tears welling in your eyes because Acacius was the only person you wanted to hear you call 'darling'. And yet there was nothing you could do, the man was simply complimenting you and as much as you hated it, you were supposed to thank him and so you forced your lips to curl into a smile and bowed your head.

"Thank you, emperor. That is a very high compliment."

Geta nodded in satisfaction raising his chin but still wasn't finished with his speech.

"You know… You should really visit me and my brother more often. Most of the time it's either Acacius alone or the two of you but I just want you to know that you are welcome any time. You are a friend. And I know that Acacius tends to be so possessive and protective over what he thinks is his but… I am your friend. He should know that too."

You avoided Geta's eye contact anxiously fumbling with your hands that were folded on your stomach your thoughts racing. It had sounded like a threat and you started to panic the longer you were in his presence.

"Thank you, emperor. I appreciate hearing that," you breathed nevertheless but almost choked when you felt his clammy hand on your chin.

"Look at me when I speak to you," he whispered nostrils flared and his pupils dilated. "You are so pretty. Such a pretty girl… I'm not sure if Acacius deserves you. I find that he is way too rough and old for such a delicate thing like you."

You swallowed loudly unable to move feeling your trembling hands clench around the fabric of your dress as though it could give you some stress relief. The stinging pain in your chest only increased when Geta toyed with a strand of your hair hanging in your face and you held your breath panic controlling your senses although there were dozens of people in the room with you. The rational side of you knew that he couldn't harm you in here but it was overshadowed by fright and anxiety that you couldn't hold back no matter how hard you tried.

You had a feeling that Geta knew exactly what he was doing to you and perhaps even enjoyed to make you uncomfortable but soon he finally let go off you dropping his hand and giving you one last mischievous glance before taking a step back.

"It was lovely to talk to you, sweetheart. I'll be looking forward to seeing you soon."

This time you threw courtesy aside and did not reply, too focused on inhaling and calming your pounding heart in your chest, and by then Geta had disappeared into the crowd and you were alone again.

When you felt a hand on your arm you twitched and jolted away fearing that the emperor might have changed his mind and returned to you but the rough warm skin was familiar. Your widened eyes relaxed and so did the rest of your body as you turned around to look into Acacius' deep brown eyes.

"Y/n, what is it?" he worriedly asked obviously having noticed the way you had flinched at the physical contact and looked you up and down for any hint for what had happened.

"It's alright," you pressed feeling flooded with love for him and you once again realized how well he was able to calm you down merely by being with you.

"My love," Acacius whispered taking both your hands and bringing them to his mouth to kiss the back of them while still not letting you out of sight for a second.

"You're jumpy. What happened?"

You thought about it for a moment and then let your eyes wander over the people around you, suddenly uncomfortable in the middle of the room surrounded by so many people.

"Can we go back to our table?"

"Of course. Let's go," you perceived your husband's soothing voice and blindly followed him as he led you across the room to your chairs. Here everything was a lot quieter, only a few people sitting around you as most of them were chatting and dancing in the center of the room.

Acacius sat down next to you his hand immediately cradling your face and then he kissed your forehead whispering words of comfort.

"Tell me, darling. I know you. Something happened while I was gone, right?"

You dropped your gaze feeling Acacius' concerned eyes on you and nodded slightly.

"It is nothing of great significance, Acacius. I was just caught off guard," you whispered with a quivering voice gulping loudly before continuing.

"Emperor Geta talked to me for a little while," you said so quietly that you almost weren't sure whether your husband had even heard you. "I just… I wasn't very comfortable. You know him and you know how… he can be frightening."

Acacius' mouth tensed before coming down to kiss your brow once more, then running his thumb over the area under your eyes chewing on his bottom lip as he watched your terrified face.

"Oh darling... I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry I wasn't there."

It seemed like he wanted to say something else but you straightened up before he could forcing a slight smile to appear on your face as you scooted closer to his hand on the side of your face.

"But I would really like to forget about it, Acacius. Let us talk about something else."

He raised his eyebrows scanning your face for any signs of uncertainty but your expression softened up at the sight of your loving husband and soon all he could see in your face was the craving to be embraced by him.

"Are you sure?" he asked bringing his hand to your waist to run some soothing circles over your clothed skin with his thumb and smiled when he provoked a little laugh in you.

"Yes. I just want to think about something else. You, perhaps."

Acacius wasn't entirely convinced yet but wanting to serve you and your needs he nodded pulling your chair a little closer to his and wrapping an arm around your back.

"Alright. Think about me then."

~~~~~~~~~~

The next few days passed without any important events happening and you soon didn't think about your unpleasant encounter with Geta anymore. Your days were filled with both joy and quietness as you spent the days in the gardens beneath the sun caring for your flowers and herbs and the evenings and nights with Acacius.

You would eat on the terrace, the air still delightfully warm from the hot day but not so much that you would break into sweat. Then you would sit with him for hours, laughing and enjoying the various delicacies on the plates, until Acacius would carry you inside and when the sun had long since disappeared below the horizon, the moon and stars having replaced it in the night sky, he would make love to you.

He would carefully trap you underneath him, pleasuring you with his fingers or mouth until you had collapsed underneath him what felt like a thousand times, and then melt with you in deep, slow thrusts. It was these moments you thought about the days after during lunch or while you were reading, biting your lip at the memory and unconsciously shifting in your seat. Acacius and you were meant for each other, that much you knew, because he felt perfect in you like the gods had created him to become one with you.

It was a warm summer night when you lay on your back with your eyes open, unable to find sleep.

You were at peace just like your body was. Acacius was sprawled out next to you, eyes closed his breath going steadily and despite feeling the urge to snuggle against his chest inhaling his scent until sleep would wash over you, you sat up in your bed staring into the darkness.

You needed fresh air and chose to find it in a short stroll through the gardens with the hope you could go to sleep then. You glanced at Acacius one last time smirking at the way his lips were parted a little and lightly kissed his cheek before leaving the bed. You would just walk through the gardens for a couple of minutes, enjoy the clear and peaceful night and then return to your bed to huddle against your husband.

Without making a noise you put on a cloak to cover your body that was quite exposed by the thin nightgown you wore right now and then sneaked out of the chambers.

You loved to stroll around the villa in the nights and compare it to the busy hustle and bustle during the day. Where servants were carrying beverages and food, important messages and books from one room to the other during the day, the quietness now laid upon the villa like a muffling blanket covering everything which led to a haunting silence that would have scared you a little had you not known this place so well by now.

You inhaled greedily feeling that the pleasantly cool air was just what you needed right now and yet pulled the cloak tighter around your body so you wouldn't catch a cold. Then you passed the different doors leading to the library, the kitchens and all the other rooms until you found yourself in the garden of the mansion.

Your senses perceived new scents and noises now, the chirping of the crickets, the smell of roses and lavender and the howl of a dog from afar. You liked this because you felt that when you spent time in the gardens in the daylight there were so many other things happening around you that you couldn't focus on these kinds of impressions.

After passing your favourite spot of the garden, the oleander and geranium patches, you sat down on a bench crossing your legs and looking up to the sky. It was a beautiful clear night with many stars visible and you wished Acacius would be here to tell you the names of them. But since he was sound asleep in the bed where you were supposed to be right now as well, you settled with just watching the celestial bodies and got lost in the beauty of the night.

That was until you heard a noise behind you that made your whole body flinch and your heart sank into your legs. 'It surely was just an animal,' you assured yourself turning your head to find the source but the only thing that moved were the branches and leaves of the olive tree a few feet away from you.

'This is odd,' you found but tried to stay calm. Why should anyone be out here at such late hour? Your eyes ran over where the noise had come from again but since you couldn't find anything suspicious you averted your gaze staring ahead of you but feeling a chill run down your body. Suddenly you felt cold and wished to lay in Acacius' arms where it was safe and so you rose from the bench with the intention to go back inside the house but then you heard the noise again and then as you suddenly saw a person approaching you you shrieked jolting away.

"Shhh…," a familiar voice cut through the air and a cold shiver ran down your spine. It was Geta and he certainly was the last person you wished to see right now although a part of you was glad it wasn't a stranger who would murder you in cold blood.

"W-What are you doing here so late at night?" your thin voice asked taking another step backwards but Geta followed you his face scarily lit by the moonlight. He frightened you even more now that the two of you were alone in the dark and your heart pounded loudly your mind racing as you tried to come up with a plan to escape this scene as quickly as possible.

"I think the same what you have been doing, little bee." He giggled his lips curling into a gruesome smile that made the blood in your veins freeze.

"Aren't you a little bee? Always fleeing to your gardens when you need a moment alone. But don't worry, little bee, I won't bother you. You won't even notice that I'm here."

He chuckled again aimlessly walking around you while you were stiff like a wooden plank. He frightened you more than anything right now because he seemed so lighthearted and peaceful but what if he snapped once you told him that you wanted to leave? Geta was unpredictable, going from being fake friendly and giggly to cruel in a matter of seconds.

"Why are you here alone anyway?" he suddenly asked his piercing brown eyes fixed on your face his lips pursing in a smug pout. "Why did your husband not accompany you?"

"H-He is s-sleeping," you stuttered your hands toying with the hem of your cloak that you were very thankful you had put on right now.

"Mhmm, I see…," Geta hummed watching you as if he was thinking.

The air was tense and thin making you tremble with panic because this whole encounter was so strange and scary to you. What was he doing here and how could you politely tell him that you preferred to go to bed now?

"I-I…," you began eyes on the ground. "I think…"

Before you could say anything else Geta had rushed towards you putting a hand under your chin to make you look up to him his mouth once again forming an arrogant smile.

"Oh sweet girl…," he sighed. "No need to be so nervous. Aren't you such a good little girl… Always so polite and endearing. And so pretty to look at."

He moved closer to you, so close that your heart skipped a beat a new wave of panic creeping up on you and you saw red.

"No," you said your hands coming up to push away his hands that attempted to take hold of your face but Geta raised his eyebrows in a disapproving manner taking both your wrists in one hand while his other traced your jawline.

"No?"

He let out a disgusting chuckle showing you his teeth. "You're saying no to your emperor? You better think about it one more time."

Your trapped hands writhed and moved in order to make him let go but his grip was like iron keeping them pressed to your body and when he lowered his face towards yours your chest rose rapidly, your eyes wide and the fear evident in the way your face was twisted.

"No. No, stop it, please," you pleaded turning your head away from him but Geta's hand clasped your chin keeping you in place and then his lips crashed against yours forcing a cold and hard kiss on you who whined in resistance trembling under the assault.

"Stop it. You have to stop, please," you mumbled against his mouth and then you finally managed to succeed in your fighting kicking Geta against his shinbone making him hiss out in anger and he pulled back a little which gave you enough time to free your hands.

You turned on the spot rushing towards the door that would lead you back inside but you had barely taken one step when Geta's hand wrapped around your upper arm pulling you back and making your body crash against his chest.

You didn't know how you ended up that way but the next thing you felt was the earth beneath you, your hands pinned down above your head and Geta's strong body on top of you caging you between the ground and himself. By now you were crying and sobbing uncontrollably squirming and kicking with your feet but in this new position there was nothing you could do against the significantly stronger man. And all he did… was laugh. His jaw was clenched but he gave you an evil smile that quickly turned into a chuckle when he watched your attempts to free yourself.

"L-Let me g-go. P-Please, d-don't," you begged him because you believed it was your only chance. You didn't have any power over him right now so you had to convince him that this wouldn't have a good outcome for the both of you.

"I don't think so," Geta said almost looking as if he had genuinely thought about your words and then lowered his face once more lips pressing against yours who refused to let his greedy tongue enter your mouth. Then he wrapped a hand around your throat forcing you to stay in place as he examined you closely eyes flashing and spitting with a mixture of anger you couldn't explain yourself and plain amusement.

"So fucking pretty. And so beautifully delicate and young."

He traced the veins on your neck scratching your sensitive skin with his nails and then all of a sudden spit on your face a condescending smirk following.

"Little slut," he growled and then the hand around your neck traveled down to the hem of your dress pulling it up so the cold air brushed over your thighs.

"No. No, no, please. Stop it please you can have whatever you want but please don't."

Geta tilted his head and applied more force with his hand, holding your wrists in place as you relentlessly squirmed in his grip.

"You don't even know what I'm gonna do, sweetheart. A little patience please."

You opened your mouth to scream for help but at first no sound came out and as if Geta saw what you were about to do he placed a hand on your mouth muffling any noise escaping your lips as a precaution.

Now it was officially over, you thought tears spilling from the corner of your eyes as you put everything in your fighting, all the fear and anger, the panic and sole frustration about the fact that you had ended up in this place but no matter how hard you tried, no matter how aggressively you bit his hand resting on top of your mouth, nothing changed. He was like a possessed animal claiming his prey and it seemed as though nothing would prevent him from doing what he had in mind.

He had pushed up the fabric your upper thighs exposed to him while his knee parted your legs so he could settle in between them.

'Acacius, Acacius, Acacius,' was the mantra in your mind and you squeezed at the fact that he wasn't here pulling this man off you and holding you until you would stop crying. A part of you was so incredibly mad at him although you knew that he obviously wasn't to blame.

Geta now nestled at his pants and opened them while your throat tightened making it impossible to breathe. And then you felt his hand on your center.

~~~~~~~~~~

Acacius turned to his other side groaning lowly. When his hands searchingly wandered to your side and he found that you weren't in bed he opened his right eye.

Usually this wasn't a rare event as you were a night owl that oftentimes spent your time in the gardens when you couldn't sleep and yet Acacius sat up in the bed. He didn't know why but suddenly he was wide awake, his mind clear and on alert and his body urging him to move.

Perhaps it was the cool air in the room that made him crave to feel your warmth next to him or he simply wanted to make sure that you were fine but Acacius decided to search for you.

He climbed off the bed and put on his robes and then left the room somehow hoping that he would immediately run into you but the corridor was empty and quiet and so your husband chose the gardens to search next as there was a high chance you were just taking a stroll. Mayhaps the two of you could enjoy the night together once he had found you noting that it was indeed beautiful tonight.

Acacius walked his footsteps echoing against the high ceiling and then the cold air hit him like an icy wind giving him chills and a shiver ran through his body. He just hoped that you wouldn't get sick being here outside for so long and he accelerated his steps wanting to find you as quickly as possible to perhaps give you his cloak and warm you up.

But as he passed the various patches and trees he suddenly heard a noise from far away. A whimpering or… a cry?

He narrowed his eyes feeling his heartbeat prominently everywhere in his body and rushed to the source of the sound the adrenaline pumping through his veins.

At first he saw a pile of fabric on the ground, but in a matter of milliseconds his brain comprehended, his heart skipped a beat, his breath went uneven and shaky and his mind clouded with panic. He acted quickly grabbing the shoulder of the man on top of you, tearing him off you and pushing him down to the ground as far away from you as possible.

Acacius' face was drawn with concern immediately kneeling down next to your trembling body your hair being everywhere which was why he couldn't see your face. But he heard you crying and whimpering his own eyes tearing up at the horrible scene before him and then he reached down to run his thumb over your cheeks.

"It's me. Acacius. It's alright, y/n, I got you. It's gonna be alright, you're safe."

He examined your face searching for any external damage but when he heard Geta move behind him he unwillingly let go of you turning around to grip the emperor's collar and pulling him up so his face was inches away from his.

"You fucking bastard," Acacius spitted his face twisted in anger. "If you or your brother ever attempt to touch her again or even just look at her I will kill you. I will kill you with my own hands if I have to. The only thing that is holding me back from strangling you right now is the fact that it will take too long to get rid of your fucking body."

He could see a flickering in Geta's eyes; almost a sign of fright and Acacius couldn't help himself and hit him with his fist letting go off him in the same moment so the man fell to the ground again. Blind with rage he kicked him twice in his stomach before clenching his fists flaring his nostrils at the sound of Geta's moaning.

"Go now. If you're still here the next time I'll turn around I'm gonna kill you. That is a fucking promise."

He turned his gaze away and actually heard the sound of soles dragging across the stoney floor exhaling loudly as he looked at you again.

Acacius dropped to his knees taking your face into his big hands and gently lifted your head so it wasn't lying on the hard ground. Now it was time to take care of you and try everything to help you deal with this traumatic experience.

"Y/n. It's okay, I'm here. It's me, Acacius… You're safe now, I promise," he whispered his voice thin but determined.

You didn't reply the sobs and whines being the only sound that left your mouth but your eyes were slightly opened so Acacius hoped that you were perhaps at least able to perceive his presence. He trailed your cheekbones but then decided that it would be best to get you inside, the coldness still attacking him like sharp stitches against his skin and so he put one arm under your knees and one around your shoulders and lifted you up in the air.

You reacted to it with a gasp but your hands instantly clung to his shirt in a help-seeking manner. Acacius kept his eyes on you despite having difficulties at making out the way in the dark, a deep crease between his eyebrows and his jaw clenched. He carried you back into the house, up the stairs and then into the room all while listening to your painful cries with a big hole in his heart.

Once there he carefully laid you down on the bed his skin prickling with cold sweat at the way your dress was ripped at the hem and sat down next to you taking your hands to squeeze and hold them as long as need be.

"A-Acacius?" your thin finally cut through the air and your husband was so relieved that he had to swallow a few tears.

"Yes. It's just me, everything is going to be fine. Take a deep breath, darling, it's okay now."

"Acacius," you repeated fresh tears straining your face but overall he understood it as progress and nodded.

"Yes. I'm right here. And I'm not going to leave."

The next minutes he spent drawing patterns with his thumb over the back of your hands while you bawled your eyes out, your body shaking and your hands holding on to him so tightly that he soon felt his hands turning numb. At some point, neither of you could tell how late it had gotten, you chewed on your bottom lip pressing his hands to your chest and gave him the most heartbreaking eyes while clearing your throat.

"I-I… What… Acacius, please," you whined shifting in the bed so he quickly cupped your face making you look at him.

"Are you in pain, my love? Has he hurt you?"

You closed your eyes the touch of his warm familiar hand sending a wave of comfort through your body.

"I-I don't think s-so," you stuttered your voice still gripped by sheer terror.

"I'm so glad, darling," he whispered wiping away some of the tears soaking your face. "You're safe in here, I promise. Do you need anything? Water, food, whatever it is, I'll bring it to you."

You shook your head holding on to him like your life depended on it. "No. Stay here, please."

Acacius tightened his grip on your cheek while squeezing your hand his words sweet and soft whispers that embraced you in a warm hug.

"I'm not going to leave. I'll stay here forever if that's what you want. I give you my word."

Your eyes fluttered seemingly satisfied with the content of his words because you allowed yourself to let your body relax a little.

"You want to sleep, little one?" he asked leaning over you to kiss your hair.

"Yes," you swallowed your pupils still dilated and each of your little twitches and fearful glances to your left and right crushed his soul, progressively ripping out his heart.

"Alright. You want me to sit here? Or lay next to you?"

Your glossy eyes wettened at his words a hand coming up to weakly pull at the sleeve of his cloak and then your trembling lips parted to breathe your next words. "Next to me."

Acacius was quick to comply nodding at you and then lying down on his side of the bed his eyes on you at all times as though someone would harm you if he looked away for a brief moment. You instantly moved towards him rolling yourself in a ball and your husband understood the gesture correctly opening his arms so you could snuggle against his upper body and feel protected and safe in the embrace.

After a while he could feel his neck getting wet so he moved one hand to the back of your head soothingly cradling and caressing you while his other was wrapped around your lower back.

"My precious girl," Acacius cooed you, feeling wide awake with the focus on calming and caring for you while you slowly drifted off to sleep.

He held you, fingers lightly grazing over your back and head just to ensure that you knew that he was right there next to you sheltering you from everyone and everything that wished to harm you. He didn't allow himself to fall asleep just yet wanting to be certain that you wouldn't be alone with your awake mind but much later when he heard your steady breathing and felt how you had loosened up in his arms Acacius finally closed his eyes as well entering a dreamless world.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning Acacius woke up from stinging intense light that fell through the windows brightening up the room charmingly.

It was so beautiful that for a second he forgot about the events last night and watched the clear blue sky outside before everything came back to him and he turned to your sleeping figure who was still close to him but now gripped the bedsheets instead of his shirt.

Acacius watched you looking all peaceful and comfortable and prayed that you would be granted some more time resting like this carefully moving a strand of hair out of your face. He didn't doze off again wanting to be there for you when you woke up and so he spent the minutes looking at you and the window in turns until you eventually lifted your eyelids glancing at him and your surroundings and for a moment you seemed confused.

Your swollen eyes came to a stop on his face and then you pulled up the blanket to your chin as if to hide behind it. Acacius gave you a tender smile doing his best to environ you with as much love and safety as he possibly could radiate.

"Good morning, love," he whispered. "How are you feeling?"

"I think I'm fine," you replied biting down on your bottom lip turning your gaze away from him instead eyeing the bedsheets as if there was something to see there.

Acacius cleared his throat not feeling sure about his next words but he nevertheless expressed them in hopes that you would appreciate it in some way.

"Do you want to talk about what happened? If not that's fine as well. I just want you to know that I'll listen."

Fresh tears instantly welled in your eyes and at first Acacius believed that he had made a mistake bringing it up too early but it was as though something was dropping off you. A weight or a heavy load you were getting rid off.

"I don't know," you breathed knuckles turning white by the amount of force you held on to the blanket with.

"He… I don't know, he came out of nowhere. And I w-wanted to leave but I-I didn't know how."

Acacius' lips were tightly pressed together as he pulled you closer to him so gently that it almost felt like it was the wind blowing you towards him and it stood in great contrast to his tensed up face.

"He tried to kiss me a-and I pushed him away b-but he didn't stop and then I was on the g-ground and he-he…" Your voice broke a quiet cry leaving your mouth. His hand almost automatically came to your shoulder and you gratefully grabbed it your hand wrapping around his thumb.

"He didn't do anything before you came. Not really, I mean. He… He didn't rape me."

Acacius muscled tensed closing his eyes so he would hide his anger instead of upsetting you further by how mad he was growing. He intended to be gentle with you, comfort you just the way you needed it and deal with his hate towards Geta another time. This was about you and he most certainly wouldn't draw the attention to him.

Acacius reached to the small of your back and then carefully pulled you towards him so he could embrace you in a hug just to feel you. Feel your pulse, the very sign that at least physically you were alive and well.

"I'm so sorry, my love. I'm so sorry you had to go through this and I want you to know that whatever it is you need right now, I will give it to you."

You sniffed twice your nose nestled against his chest seeking comfort in the way he shielded your body from your surroundings.

"I don't know…," you mumbled quietly. "I just need you."

Acacius felt his eyes getting wet at your soft voice smiling tenderly when he felt you pushing yourself against his strong body.

"And I'm here. I'm right here, sweetling and I won't leave," his soothing voice cradled you like a sweet song which made you close your eyes feeling safe for the first time since the events in the gardens.

When he heard you cry again Acacius tightened his protective grip although you sounded a little different now. They were quiet and soft sobs, helpless and longing sounds that fit the way you buried your hands in his flesh of his arms and shoulders. You were holding on to him for dear life showing him how much you needed him close to you and Acacius wanted nothing more than to act according to your desires.

"That's right…," he hummed. "Let it all out, my precious girl. I'm right here…"

It was almost noon when your cries had faded away and when you raised your head from his chest your big eyes looked clearer and more awake than before. You even managed to give him a careful smile and then sat up straight in the bed.

"I'm very hungry," you said Acacius following your movement sitting next to you and tenderly stroking your arms.

"Then let's eat, darling. I'll get the servants."

The both of you simultaneously climbed off the bed but before Acacius approached the door he stopped letting his gaze linger upon your face again another question on his mind.

"I need to know if you're hurt, love."

Your eyes were big as you looked at him but then lowered your view to your hands that were folded in your lap.

"My hip hurts a little," you murmured. "I fell down on my side. And my neck."

Your hand came up to soothe the red marks where Geta had squeezed your throat and then felt courageous enough to meet your husband's gaze.

"But it's fine. Nothing that will not heal."

Acacius took a step towards you holding your face in his huge hands his jaw tightened. From the outside he looked hard and cold but inside a storm was roaring. He felt the urge to hit something or better someone, get rid of all the anger and tension controlling his thoughts while holding and cuddling you until all of your pain would be transferred to him and he could be the one enduring it. How he wished it was possible…

You were his girl, his precious sweet girl that only deserved love and warmth and was way too pure for this cruel world. And now you had been harmed and Acacius craved to beat up the person that had made the smile on your lips vanish. Not that anyone deserved to go through what you had just been through but you were meant to be worshipped, that much he knew.

"I love you," he whispered so close to crying but he couldn't.

He couldn't do that to you right now because he had to be strong now, for your sake. Acacius knew you so well and if he was to let his emotions take over and show himself vulernable to you you might feel unsettled or scared never having him seen that way before. So instead he swallowed kissing your forehead and welcoming your hands trailing up his wrists.

"I love you too," you whispered.

The day went on without any special events. Acacius of course noticed that you were flinchy and more quiet than usual and tried his best to balance distracting you whilst giving you the opportunity to let out whatever you wanted to express. Therefore he spoke to you about unimportant matters that wouldn't upset or scare you all while paying close attention to you and your needs.

Time passed and with great relief Acacius observed clear progress in your behaviour sensing how your old-self returned over the next few days. There were moments when you twitched at a sudden movement and you couldn't stand the darkness let alone going to the gardens at night even with Acacius by your side but over all you seemed to get better and so he felt optimistic.

And yet he didn't initiate any sexual contact with you although he craved to feel you all the time. Before the assault Acacius and you hadn't been able to keep your hands off each other spending most of the nights as well as the lazy mornings making love and being intimate with each other so it was no wonder he missed tasting you or feeling you around him. But of course he was well-aware that it might not be what you desired at the moment and so he didn't bring up the topic once instead focusing on giving you space while offering you physical closeness whenever you craved it.

And you surely did, being even more eager to snuggle up to his chest and entangling your hands at any chance. Sometimes it became hard for your husband to keep straight thoughts especially when you pressed yourself so close to his center but he always remembered the circumstances and what you had gone through gritting his teeth and managing to keep his hands off you.

~~~~~~~~~~

It was a couple of days later when Acacius left your home for a few days to participate in a battle around 20 miles away from Rome and although you had a sour feeling in your stomach already knowing that you would miss him terribly you kissed him goodbye and trailed your hand up his cheek.

"I love you. And I will miss you."

"I love you too and so will I. But I will think about you all the time."

He kissed your hands before giving you a serious look. "My sister will visit you tomorrow and look after you. She said she can also stay the night if need be. And I talked to Julia and she said that she's available too the next few days. You can send a message to her any time, alright?"

You smirked but nodded. "Thank you. I'm looking forwards to seeing your sister again. But you know that I'll be fine, Acacius. I promise you. I'm good."

"I know you are. But I want someone around you in case you are not at any point. And I also want you to be safe."

Your cheeks dimpled your fingers tracing his neck and jaw before drawing him into a deep kiss that was meant to show him how much you appreciated what he was doing for you.

"I will be. And I already can't wait for you to come back," you hummed against his mouth, which caught your words for no one but Acacius to hear.

"I love you, darling." Then he took a step back kissing your hands his eyes glistening with a certain longing that tightened your throat.

"My lady."

You inhaled heavily trying to loosen up your chest and then gave him one last smile. "I'll see you soon."

~~~~~~~~~~

There was no part of you that ever doubted his capabilities or skills in the coming days. Acacius was one of the fiercest and most experienced generals of your time and you whole-heartedly believed that he would come back safely and barely wounded from the fighting.

It was more the fact that you simply missed him. You always did when he was gone longer than a day and although you were grateful for his sister's visit that turned your attention elsewhere for a couple of hours you often had problems falling asleep staring ahead of you in the dark your gaze falling upon the empty space next to you.

These were the moments when you wondered if Acacius might be thinking about you as well right now and when you squeezed your eyes imagining his face in front of you, you believed that he might.

You had spent your whole life, these 23 years without being dependant on anyone outside your family. So you knew what it was like to love or to long for someone especially considering that you had just lost your father a couple of months ago but Acacius was something different.

You were scared suddenly. Scared to give away all your love, your heart and soul with the fear of losing him and strangely, you had never felt that way about someone in your family. Perhaps because right now you were choosing to do so. You were choosing to open up to this man offering him everything that you had, falling head first for him and trusting on this delicate and yet intense bond the two of you had grown.

You had chosen to give away your heart because you had started to trust him and it had felt right and the time that you had spent as his wife had been incredibly beautiful so far but right now you were experiencing the consequences.

Missing him while he was gone. Feeling like your heart was being ripped out when you woke up alone in the morning. And although the logical side of you tried to deny it, fearing that something might happen to him during one of the battles.

It was torture and yet you would never trade the life you had with him right now with the life you had lived before marrying him. He was worth it, of course he was. He was the love of your life and as much as it had hurt you to see him leave it also had made you aware of how precious your bond was.

And you managed to go on. The days sometimes passed slowly but you found distractions in reading or inviting your friends to your house and then finally after 7 days of being separated from your beloved husband, he returned.

It was a warm day but not too hot for your liking. You wore a light gown that you had specifically picked out because you knew how much Acacius liked the light pink color on you and wore your best perfume.

The whole morning you were more than jittery, relentlessly walking up and down, the wide grin not vanishing from your face for a moment. You almost felt a little ridiculous because there were women waiting for their husbands over the course of several years and you were behaving like this after a week of separation but in the end you didn't care and you cared even less when Acacius finally walked through the gate his hair messy, small cuts visible on his arms and face but his eyes soft and his lips formed into a relieved smile.

It only intensed when your eyes lit up, a joyful squeal leaving your mouth and you jumped in Acacius' arms. A quiet chuckle went through his body as he held you effortlessly lifting you in the air and twirling you around a few times.

"My sweet girl," he laughed deeply inhaling the familiar scent of your hair his eyes closed in delight.

"I missed you so much," you whispered tonelessly hands buried in his dark locks your legs firmly wrapped around his hips to gesture him that you weren't ready to be lowered to the ground just yet. And Acacius wasn't either holding you so tightly that it almost cut off your air supply but it was exactly what you craved.

"I missed you too. I thought about you all the time, darling, gods…"

His hand laid flat on the small of your back while the other was buried in your neck tracing your skin through the veil of hair. When he put you back on your feet your knees felt wobbly and you gladly took his arm that guided you back into the house.

Once inside Acacius sank down on a chair exhaling deeply as he leaned back but didn't let go of your hand.

"How have you been while I was away?" he asked gently pulling you towards him so you stood right in front of him.

"It was fine. I read a lot and… I had a lovely time with your dear sister. I missed you though. I'm so glad you're back, Acacius."

"And I'm glad to be back. You didn't worry about me though, did you? You know I will always come back to you, right?"

You nodded reaching for his messy locks that stood in all directions twisting a strand around your finger.

"Of course. But you're getting old," you then whispered with flashing eyes mischievously grinning from one ear to the other which Acacius reacted to with a tilt of his head.

"Oh do I now? What are you doing with an old man like me then?"

He placed his hands on your hips while parting his legs so you could stand between them while you cradled his head the palms of your hands brushing over the spiky hairs of his beard which gave you tingles.

"Mhmm," you made pretending to think as if you didn't have the answer on the top of your lips. "That's a very good question actually."

Acacius curled the corner of his mouth into a amused smile closing his eyes in relish as he leaned into your touch.

"Do you want me to answer it?" he asked quietly.

"No need to," was what you replied or better whispered as you lowered your face to him kissing his lips gently and then proceeding with his nose, his chin and both his cheeks.

"Well, perhaps I have a special fondness for men who know what they are doing. Because you definitely do."

He chuckled lowly which you sensed in the way his body vibrated and brought a hand up to the back of your head.

"I should hope so."

When you pulled back from him straightening up you could swear you saw a disappointed flickering in his brown eyes but you had a plan in mind sitting down on his lap the wrong way around so your knees rested right next to his hips. Your husband let out an approving hum encouraging you in your attempt and shoved you closer to his body by firmly holding on to your waist.

"I want to feed you," you said raising your chin in your most confident way even when Acacius raised his eyebrows.

"Feed me?"

You reached behind you and grabbed a bowl filled with all sorts of delicious and exotic fruits, made your choice and then dangled a strawberry in front of his face.

"Open your mouth," you demanded your eyes determindely glistening and who was Acacius to refuse you?

He parted his lips closing his eyes while you carefully brought the strawberry to his mouth pushing the fruit past his lips and smiled when he sank his teeth into it. He moaned in relish tasting the sweetness spreading in his mouth and began chewing on the strawberry while you placed the leafy whorl back on the table.

Then you brought your thumb to his glistening lips carefully wiping the juice and leaned into another kiss tasting the familiar flavour once you explored his mouth with your tongue. The both of you were breathless when you pulled back and your husband instantly cupped your face trailing his finger over the softness of your flushed skin.

"You want another one?" you giggled already reaching behind you Acacius biting his lips at the adorable sight of you.

"Yes please. I don't know what I did to deserve this treatment but I'm not going to complain."

You tilted your head pursing your lips in a playful pout while feeding him another strawberry.

"Let me think… You fought in a battle, defended your country, and you're the best husband I could possibly imagine."

You had whispered your last words almost feeling shy about expressing your love for him like that but obviously you had no reason to be.

Acacius swallowed the strawberry and this time it was him who pulled you in for another kiss his lips gently sucking at your bottom lip. He devoured your mouth in the most gentle and delicate way carefully nibbling at your lip and this time it took the two of you longer until you could break away from the kiss.

"The sweetest," Acacius mumbled and although you couldn't figure out whether he was talking about the fruit or your lips you could only agree.

That night you fell asleep lying on top of Acacius' broad body and despite feeling that this was an uncomfortable position for your husband you relaxed after he had assured you a hundred times that he was fine and didn't want you to climb off him.

It was a quiet and peaceful moment; one of those that you wished you could carve in your brain and revisit whenever you had the desire to. It was just the two of you; you forgot about everything and everyone else in the world your mind turning into a mush when all you sensed was him.

Your nose smelled his neck the familiar scent of cotton and sandalwood, your hands clinging to his muscular shoulders and your back that Acacius was running his hands over loosening up against his warm touch.

All the while Acacius was whispering sweet nothings in your ear and you were almost certain that he wasn't even sure whether you were still awake but nevertheless he continued to do so until you actually were sound asleep.

Only then did he stop talking, inhaling deeply while smiling into the dark his thoughts drifting to a place just as peaceful and beautiful as this one.

[revelboo]

Hey I just wanted to say I love your works and have been spamming you with likes on a lot of them. Please make sure to take breaks and sending lots of love and hugs your way!

I saw! 😁 Glad you like my silly stuff

That’s one of the things I’d missed about fanfiction. Trying to work Star, Soundwave, and Meg’s personalities into a 70k word novel with their dynamic? Not happening without greatly watering them down. Couldn’t really delve into motivations or their pasts, work on really making those individual connections because there’s just not the room for it. I don’t have to ‘kill my darlings’ here. I want to write a purely fluff scene to further reinforce a character’s softer side? I can. And getting these three where I want them is like herding feral cats. They just keep biting

Everything Is Alright Pt 114

IDW Starscream x Reader, Soundwave x Reader, Megatron x Reader

• Seeing Starscream lunge forward off the medical berth, peds hitting the floor only to just collapse, optics dimming freezes Soundwave in place. Because the Seeker isn’t that badly hurt. Not enough to warrant whatever just happened and there’s a growing fear as he looks at Hook and the medic just shakes his head, bending to try and haul the Seeker up. “A little help here?” Hook growls. But Soundwave is slowly standing. You’re all the way on the other side of the Nemesis with Megatron. Whatever this is, he’s afraid it has to do with you. “Hey, I’m talking to you.” And you’re too far away.

• “Pet?” Catching you when you just collapse, he curls his servos around you. Can feel your heart beating against him, but he’s almost positive it’s never been this slow before. And you’re unsettlingly limp in his hand, breathing, but shallowly. “Little one?” Had something happened to Starscream? Hadn’t thought the Seeker was that badly hurt, but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe it’s you, something human. Nudging your head gently with a servo, he looks at the door to his habsuite. Can he get you to the Medbay fast enough? “Come on, little one.” Jostling you in his palm, he knows it’s not his problem. Enjoys talking with you, your company, but you’re not his. Pacing, he stares at you, willing your heart to beat. For those eyes to open.

• Barely aware of Hook muttering something about Starscream’s spark, calling out for help. But Soundwave is already out the door, shoving past Mixmaster as he runs. Knowing he’s not going to get to you in time. That this is his fault as much as Starscream’s. Both of you going into shock because something’s wrong with the spark you’re carrying. Just knows it’s the problem. All the stress they’d put you through finally taking a toll. Needs to believe you’ll survive this, that he can get to you in time. That he can save you and a spark that’s not even his.

• Denta gritting, Megatron starts toward the door and then stumbles to a stop. Why can’t he feel your little heart? It has to be still beating, just weakly. And anger simmers through him as he stares at you, anger at himself for even caring if you live or die and anger at you for making him care. Swearing, he gently bounces you again. You’re just a little organic. You shouldn’t matter. So why does he pull back the plating protecting his spark and cradle you to it? Just a partial bond to try and give you a little boost. Get your heart beating again, because he’s a fool and can’t just watch whatever this is happen. Stiffens as his spark arcs and connects.

• Curling into yourself, around that warm point of light even as it eats away at you and slips through your fingers. Can’t think, can’t breathe as the moment stretches into an endless agony. Can’t let go either, because it’s yours. It’s everything. And then you’re wrapped in unfamiliar light, coaxing at you. The pain easing as what you’re trying so hard to hang onto responds. Someone has you, calling out to you. Star? You’re not sure, but you let go, giving in completely to that sweet coaxing, letting that warmth and light spill into you. Needing it not just for you, but for that spark you’re trying to hold together. Knowing it without knowing how. Too tired, too stressed to resist that coaxing. Because whoever this is, they’re familiar. Soundwave, maybe?

• Doesn’t expect you to just submit, tangling into him as a feeling of relief spills through him. And there’s a disjointed moment of realization, but there’s no way to stop what’s happening. Taking all of you, bonding you fully when you don’t resist. Feels your light washing through him, suddenly knowing you as completely as he knows himself. Anchored to you in a mix of shock, wonder, and worry. And taking something unexpected from you. Feels that tiny point of light become his, the spark too small, too weak. Groaning as he separates you from his own spark and stumbles back, staring down at you as you slowly curl up in his palm. Look up at him with tired eyes. “Pet, were you sparked?” Brow furrowing, you hesitantly nod. “You’re not sparked anymore,” he growls seeing your eyes widen in immediate fear. Because he can feel the new spark within himself, stabilizing with his spark to feed it. “But I am.” Primus. How had you even done that?

Previous

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Hahaha you’d think I would delete some, right? That would be the reasonable thing to do. Instead I just hoard them to look at in a bizarre mix of horror and fascination that even I don’t understand, because surely tumblr has to have an inbox limit at some point, right? …Right?

I started this last September. This blog is five months old… it’s up to 603 this morning not counting the ones I’ve answered. Not sure whether to be amazed or vaguely terrified by y’all.

[focusonkayjay]

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (7); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 7.7k+

Chapter Warnings: i'm assuming there are no warnings but if i need to add anything pls do lmk !!

A/N: my fav part about working on this series is having to rewatch the movie repeatedly to make sure i’m capturing its essence just right. at this point, i feel like i could recite every line by heart without even watching it lmao. anywaysss, this series is wrapping up soon, and I’m going to miss it SOOOO MUCH. pls do read this part and let me know your thoughts! <3

part 7

"I don’t want any part of your family." Jungkook announces, his voice sharp. Before you, your mother, or your grandmother can respond, he turns on his heel and strides away.

You gasp softly, a lump forming in your throat as you spin to face your mother and grandmother, your eyes glistening. "Was this really necessary?" you seethe, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief.

Without waiting for a reply, you rush after Jungkook, your heart pounding as panic and hurt collide within you. The music and laughter of the party feel like a cruel backdrop as you weave through the crowd, calling his name.

Jungkook, however, is already far ahead, his chest tight and his breathing ragged as he pushes through the sea of dancing bodies.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back, his mind reeling from everything he’s just heard. The weight of the accusations, the humiliation, the betrayal... it’s all too much. He crashes into shoulders, mumbles hurried apologies, but keeps moving, driven by only one instinct... to escape.

You, meanwhile, search frantically, your eyes darting through the kaleidoscope of lights and people. “Jungkook!” you call out, your voice barely audible over the music.

You somehow manage to spot Taehyung and Miyeon, who are laughing with your cousins, their cheeks flushed from champagne and joy.

"Have you seen Jungkook?" you ask breathlessly, your desperation apparent. They all exchange confused glances, clearly dazed and unaware of the storm brewing inside you. "No, I haven’t..." Taehyung answers, his brows furrowing. "Is everything okay?"

But you’re already stepping away, scanning the room, your pulse quickening with every passing second. You press through the crowd, ignoring the curious looks from partygoers as dread settles deep in your chest. You silently curse yourself for letting him slip away, knowing how deeply this moment must have wounded him.

Jungkook, now outside the hall, stands under the open night sky, his chest heaving as he tries to steady himself. The cool air stings his skin, but it does little to numb the chaos inside him.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he had found a place to belong... someone to belong to. But tonight, the cracks have grown far too wide, and all he can feel is the ache of being an outsider again.

If your mother’s disapproval had ended with him, he could have taken it... he had prepared himself for that. But dragging his only family into it, accusing his mother, the one person who had given up everything for him? That was unbearable.

The words your mother spoke play on a loop in his head, tearing at his composure. His mother... the woman who worked tirelessly, who sacrificed her dreams for his future, who always made sure he had what he needed, no matter how little they had... how could anyone think so little of her?

He clenches his fists, trying to dispel the anger and confusion threatening to consume him.

And yet, there’s a tiny seed of doubt buried beneath the pain, watered by memories of the sudden move to New York. How his mother randomly quit her job in Busan one day and told him to pack up. How she never offered a real explanation, only saying... "It’s for the best."

Jungkook shakes his head, his trust in her unshaken, but his mind remains clouded. He doesn’t know what to think, what to believe. He feels lost, untethered, as though the ground beneath him is crumbling away.

There’s only one place he can think of going right now... away from this party, away from all these people, away from the echoes of your mother’s piercing words, and that’s Yoongi’s place.

The city noise fades into the background as Jungkook walks, his steps heavy and mechanical. The streets of Daegu blur together, unimportant and indistinct, as he trudges forward, his blazer hanging limply from one hand while the other is buried deep in his pocket.

By the time he reaches Yoongi’s estate, his shoulders are slumped, his head bowed, and he looks like a man carrying the weight of the world.

The massive iron gates screech open, revealing the familiar expanse of Yoongi’s mansion. Jungkook steps inside, dragging his feet across the paved path.

The grand doors swing open almost immediately, and Yoongi rushes out to meet him. "Kook!" Yoongi’s voice is filled with concern, and it’s obvious that the guards must have informed him of Jungkook’s unexpected arrival.

As Yoongi jogs towards him, his expression shifts from confusion to alarm. He slows down when he’s just a few steps away, studying Jungkook intently, trying to piece together why his friend is here instead of at the wedding.

But when Yoongi looks into Jungkook’s eyes, he immediately knows better than to ask. The storm of emotions written all over Jungkook’s face... hurt, betrayal, and exhaustion speaks volumes.

Yoongi doesn’t press for answers, doesn’t push him to talk. Instead, he closes the remaining distance and pulls Jungkook into a firm, securing hug.

Jungkook stiffens at first, but then he lets out a shuddering breath, his tension easing just slightly as he leans into the warmth of Yoongi’s embrace. He shuts his eyes tightly, as if holding them closed can stop the emotions threatening to spill over.

//

You click your tongue in frustration, shaking your head as the voicemail drones on again. You lower your phone, staring at the screen, your heart sinking with every passing second.

Taking a shaky breath, you dial his number again, your hands trembling. "Please... please pick up, Kook... please." you mutter, but just like the 36 times before, the call goes unanswered.

Standing just outside the wedding venue, the muffled sounds of the party echo faintly behind you. The heavy bass of the music vibrates through the ground beneath your feet, a constant reminder of the celebration you’re supposed to be a part of.

Yet everything feels distant, blurred, inconsequential. Your mind is consumed by only one thing, only one person... Jungkook. His face. The look in his eyes when your mother and grandmother shattered the fragile sense of belonging he had.

A part of you knew your mother wasn’t exactly thrilled when you brought Jungkook home for the first time. She had always envisioned someone who fit her rigid mold of perfection... someone polished, wealthy, and born into a family with status.

Jungkook, didn’t exactly align with her ideal type for you. But you convinced yourself, naively, that in time she would see what you saw in him. That after witnessing how much you loved him, she would come around.

What you didn't expect was this. This level of cruelty. A literal background check? Digging into his family’s past? And then to humiliate him so mercilessly in the middle of a celebration? The memory of it makes your stomach churn, a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you.

But you don’t care about his past. You never did. Whatever your mother uncovered, whatever reasons she thinks she has to deem him “unworthy”...none of it matters to you. What matters is him... the man you know, the man you love.

You don’t see Jungkook as a blemish on your family’s pristine reputation or a potential "threat" to your social standing.

You see him as the man who stole your heart the day you met him in New York. The dreamy photographer whose eyes light up when he talks about the things he’s passionate about. The man who sees the world through a lens most people couldn’t even imagine.

You love him for his little quirks... for the way he fusses over perfect lighting, the way he scrunches his nose when he’s deep in thought, the way he pouts his lips to hold himself back from crying while you both watch sappy romcoms in his little apartment, the way he makes you feel truly seen. Not as the rich girl born into privilege, but as you. Just you.

And now, you’re terrified you might have lost him. Terrified that the person who made you feel whole might be slipping away because of the very family you’ve tried so hard to reconcile him with.

Your phone screen dims, and you realize with a jolt that your call has ended... voicemail again. Your breath hitches, and your vision blurs as desperation claws at your chest.

A tear trickles down your cheek and all you can think about is where Jungkook's gone, how he is and what's going through his mind.

//

“Kook… you gotta eat something, man.” Yoongi calls gently from the doorway of the guest room, his voice low and laced with concern.

His eyes scan the dimly lit room, landing on Jungkook, who remains curled up under a thick blanket, his back turned to the world. The younger man is a still, silent figure, lost in the folds of the bed.

There’s no response. No shift. No acknowledgment. Just the faint rise and fall of Jungkook’s shoulders as he breathes.

It’s been a full day since Jungkook showed up at Yoongi’s doorstep, looking like a ghost of himself. He hadn’t offered much explanation, but Yoongi didn’t need one. He’d pieced it together soon enough.

“Alright...” Yoongi murmurs, almost to himself, noticing how Jungkook doesn’t so much as flinch. “Maybe later.” He steps back, pulling the door shut and makes his way to the living room.

“He’s still the same.” Yoongi says as he steps into the room, his tone subdued. His gaze shifts to you, perched on the edge of the couch. You’re sitting so still, your hands clasped tightly on your lap, your knuckles pale.

When Yoongi called you earlier in the morning, informing you that Jungkook was at his place, you hadn’t hesitated. You came immediately, in hopes of seeing how Jungkook was doing.

But now, sitting here, your chest aches with a mix of guilt, worry, and helplessness. You’ve already told Yoongi about what happened at the party... how your mother humiliated Jungkook, dredging up his past like it was some dark secret to be weaponized. And now, the image of his face in that moment... hurt, exposed, betrayed, still haunts you.

Every instinct screams at you to go upstairs, to see him, to explain, to apologize. But fear holds you back. What if you make it worse? What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he blames you, even though none of this was your doing?

You force yourself to take a breath, the air shaky as it fills your lungs. “Okay then…” Your voice is quiet, almost trembling, as you stand up from the couch. “I’ll leave now.”

Yoongi watches you with a mix of empathy and reluctance. He doesn’t try to stop you, though you can tell he wishes he could offer some kind of comfort.

You make your way to the front door, your footsteps slow and hesitant. But when you reach the door, you pause, turning to face Yoongi. “He’ll... be okay, right?” you ask, your voice soft, fragile. Your eyes search his, pleading for reassurance you desperately need.

Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line before he offers a small, tentative smile. “Hopefully.” he says gently. “I’ll keep you updated. Don’t worry too much.”

You nod, though his words do little to ease the ache in your chest. Your smile in return is faint, barely there, as you turn and step out to leave

Once you’re gone, Yoongi lingers at the door for a moment, watching your car drive away. Then, with a deep exhale, he retreats upstairs, returning to the guest room. The room is as it was... dim, still, heavy with silence. Jungkook hasn’t moved an inch.

Yoongi approaches the bed, sitting on the edge, careful not to startle him. “Kook...” he begins, his tone soft but steady. “Y/n was here.” That gets a reaction, albeit a subtle one. Jungkook’s shoulders stiffen ever so slightly, but he doesn’t turn around.

“She’s worried about you, you know.” Yoongi says gently, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “Said you haven’t been answering her calls.” He pauses, his eyes fixed on the back of Jungkook’s head, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment. When none comes, he exhales softly. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

Jungkook remains motionless, his eyes locked on the faint glow of light outlining the edges of the curtains. The world outside feels distant, unreachable, like a place he no longer belongs.

He’s seen the missed calls, the messages, each one a silent plea from you. He knows you’re worried, he can feel it even in your absence. But the thought of facing you now feels impossible.

His mind loops through the events of the night before... the way your mother’s biting words had stripped him bare in front of you. The sting of humiliation burns fresh in his memory, each detail sharper than the last. He knows it wasn’t your fault. You had no part in what happened, no idea of your mother’s cruel intentions.

Still, the weight of it all... the shame, the vulnerability, the fear that you might look at him differently now, keeps him rooted to the bed.

He misses you. God, he misses you so much it hurts. He wants nothing more than to bury his face in your shoulder, to let your presence soothe the storm raging inside him. But right now, he feels too raw, too exposed.

Maybe he just needs time. Space.

Yoongi watches him closely, waiting for even the smallest reaction. When it doesn’t come, he lets out another sigh, long and heavy with understanding.

“Alright...” he says softly, standing from the bed. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs, okay?” His voice is calm, reassuring, as if he’s trying to lend Jungkook some of his own strength.

With that, Yoongi turns and walks towards the door, leaving the younger man alone once again. The sound of the door closing echoes faintly, a quiet reminder that the world hasn’t stopped, even if it feels like Jungkook’s has.

//

“He still hasn’t responded?” Taehyung’s voice is tinged with worry. You don’t reply, your gaze fixed on the open window of your bedroom, the soft rustle of curtains doing little to calm the storm inside you.

Miyeon sits beside you, her arm wrapped gently around your shoulders, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles. She doesn’t say anything... she knows words won’t reach you right now.

Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin stand nearby, their expressions heavy with concern. Seeing you like this... so pale, so fragile, so utterly shattered, breaks their hearts. It’s been three whole days since everything fell apart.

Three days since the party. Three days since you've seen Jungkook. Since your world crumbled.

According to the initial plan, you and Jungkook were supposed to leave Daegu yesterday to board your flight back to New York. However, the unforeseen turn of events derailed everything.

These past three days, you’ve visited Yoongi’s house every day, hoping… praying… to see Jungkook, to catch even a fleeting glimpse of him. But each time, all you’re met with is Yoongi’s somber shake of the head, a silent confirmation that Jungkook doesn’t want to see you.

Your chest aches with a pain so profound it feels etched into the very fabric of your being. You miss him so fucking much but what haunts you the most is the uncertainty. Where does this leave the two of you? Does he want to end things? Does he want to break up?

The mere thought of never seeing him again feels like an unhealing wound, a chasm that devours every sliver of hope. It’s unbearable... the kind of pain that steals your breath and leaves you hollow, trembling, and utterly lost.

Suddenly, you rise from the bed, startling the others.

“Y/n?” Seokjin’s voice is hurried as they all follow your purposeful strides towards the door. “Where are you going?”

You don’t answer. You don’t even glance back. Your steps quicken as you walk past the hallway and descend the grand staircase, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the tense silence of the house. Your eyes dart around until they find her.

Your mother.

She’s seated by the pool in the garden, sipping tea and reading a book as if nothing has happened. As if she hasn’t ripped your life apart with her calculated cruelty.

Something inside you snaps.

You shove the glass door open with a force that makes it clatter, storming out onto the lawn. Your mother looks up, startled by your sudden presence. She carefully sets her teacup down on the table beside her, a composed expression masking the chaos she’s caused.

“Y/n darling—”

“You’re horrible.” you blurt out, cutting her off. Your voice trembles, not with weakness, but with the sheer force of emotions clawing their way to the surface. Her calm demeanor falters, just slightly. “Y/n—”

“Did you really have to go that far?” you demand, your voice rising with each word. “Really, Mama? A background check? Was that necessary?”

The others... Taehyung, Miyeon, Namjoon, and Seokjin exchange uneasy glances. They stand a few steps behind, unsure if they should intervene, but they know better than to stop you now.

“Do you honestly think digging into his past, dredging up something so personal, and throwing it in his face was the answer?” you continue, your voice shaking with anger and heartbreak.

“Did you think that humiliating him, tearing him down in front of me, would make me change my mind? If you did, you’re wrong, Mama. So, so wrong.”

Your mother opens her mouth, but the fury in your eyes silences her.

“I don’t care about his past!” you cry, your voice breaking. “I don’t care about what his mother did or about your stupid obsession with our reputation. I don’t care if you think he’s a ‘threat’ to our image. None of that matters to me! All I care about is him. I love him, Mama. Don't you understand that? I love him more than anything, and I can’t—” Your voice cracks, tears streaming down your face now.

“I can’t imagine a life without him. And you’ve made him feel like he’s nothing. Like he’s not worthy of me. How could you? How could you be so cruel?”

Your mother’s calm facade begins to crumble under the weight of your words, but you don’t stop.

“You’ve destroyed the one thing that made me happy, the one person who truly matters to me. And for what? Your pride? Your precious image?” You shake your head, your voice now quieter but no less intense.

“You didn’t just hurt him, Mama. You hurt me. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” Your words hang in the air, heavy and final, as you stand there, chest heaving, tears streaming freely down your face.

Your mother looks at you, her expression frozen, as though struck too deeply to formulate a response. She simply stares, her composure faltering under the weight of your outburst.

Behind you, the others remain silent, their own hearts aching at the rawness of your pain. No one moves, no one speaks. They simply bear witness to the moment you finally let it all out... the moment your anguish and love refused to be silenced any longer.

//

Yoongi peeks his head around the door, his gaze landing on Jungkook, who is lying in the same position as always... curled on his side, back facing the door.

It’s been a week now, and nothing has changed. Jungkook remains silent, unresponsive, and withdrawn. At this point, Yoongi is just relieved he’s started eating again, even if it’s only small amounts.

"Hey, Kook..." Yoongi calls out softly, his tone hesitant, careful. He watches as Jungkook’s shoulders tense ever so slightly, a subtle acknowledgment that he’s heard his voice.

But still, Jungkook doesn’t move. His eyes remain fixed on the curtains ahead, their edges glowing faintly in the daylight. He feels like he’s become one with the bed, as though his body has fused with the mattress, drained of all energy, all will to do anything.

Every day, Yoongi tells him you’ve come by to see him, and every day Jungkook reacts the same way... he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t give in. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you... he does. God, he does.

But the thought of facing you feels like scaling a mountain he’s not ready to climb. The humiliation, the pain, the anger... none of it has faded. He knows it wasn’t your fault, knows you didn’t know what was coming, but even so, the wounds are still too raw.

He knows he’s hurting you by shutting you out. He knows this isn’t the right way to handle things, that his silence is only amplifying the ache for both of you.

Yet he feels paralyzed, trapped in this endless loop of shame and sadness. He’s been telling himself he just needs more time, but deep down, he wonders if any amount of time will be enough to make him feel whole again.

By now, he should’ve been back in New York. His flight was almost a week ago. His work is piling up, responsibilities waiting, but none of it seems to matter.

His body feels heavy, his mind clouded with everything that’s gone wrong. Moving, talking, doing anything... it all feels impossible. The future feels distant, unreachable, while the present keeps pulling him under.

“Someone’s here to see you.” Yoongi says, breaking the silence.

Jungkook sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping further. He doesn’t need to guess who it is. He already knows. And just like every other day this past week, he mutters the same words. “I don’t want to see her.”

“It’s not her.” Yoongi says quickly. Jungkook freezes at that, the words catching him off guard. There’s a brief pause before he slowly turns his head, curiosity breaking through his haze. He shifts slightly on the bed, looking at Yoongi standing by the door.

Yoongi steps aside and pushes the door open wider. Jungkook’s breath catches when he sees who steps into the room. His eyes widen, and he’s off the bed in an instant, his movements uncharacteristically quick.

“Ma!” he exclaims, his voice trembling, filled with surprise and a touch of desperation.

His mother stands there with a soft, understanding smile, her presence warm and familiar, like a balm for his aching soul.

But Jungkook doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t speak again. He simply rushes towards her, crossing the room in a heartbeat, and throws his arms around her.

“Ma.” he whispers again, softer this time, his voice breaking. His arms tighten around her as he buries his face in her shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. She holds him just as tightly, her hand gently stroking the back of his head.

//

"Here, eat this." Jungkook’s mother says gently, holding a plate of food as she sits on the bed, facing him. Her voice is soft but firm, carrying a motherly authority that Jungkook doesn’t dare defy. She picks up a spoonful of rice, bringing it to his lips.

"How can you go on like this, Kook? Not eating, not taking care of yourself..." She shakes her head softly, a small sigh escaping her.

Jungkook opens his mouth obediently, letting her feed him. He chews mechanically, his gaze fixed on her face. Her expression is calm, unchanging, the same serene smile he’s known all his life.

Her eyes seem to study him with quiet concern, yet there’s an unshakable strength behind them. It’s comforting in a way that almost makes his chest ache more.

It’s been twenty minutes since she walked into his room. Twenty minutes since he buried himself in her arms, his emotions spilling over for the first time in days.

Yet, he hasn’t uttered a word about the storm brewing in his heart. He doesn’t know how she got here, doesn’t know why she’s here. Did Yoongi call her? Does she know what happened? More importantly, does she know what he’s learned about her... about their past?

His thoughts swirl in a relentless loop. He keeps telling himself it can’t be true, that it doesn’t make sense. But the questions claw at him, relentless, demanding answers.

His mother lifts another spoonful to his mouth, and he opens instinctively. He chews slowly, his mind racing as he watches her. She seems... the same. The same gentle demeanor, the same patient smile.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Jungkook speaks, his voice hesitant and shaky. “Ma...”

She hums softly at his voice, acknowledging him but continuing to feed him. He swallows thickly, his throat tight. “I... I need to ask you something...” he says. The words feel heavy, like they’re scraping their way out of his chest. “Y/n’s mother... she told me a few things.”

Her hand pauses for a fraction of a second, the spoon hovering in the air, a few inches away from his mouth. But her expression doesn’t falter. She places the spoon back on the plate and looks at him directly, her calm gaze unwavering. “I know.” she says simply.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. Of course she knows. She always knows. But it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. He searches her face for a hint of denial, some sign that it’s not what he fears. “If... If you’re wondering if any of it is true...” her voice trails off, and she looks at him with an unspoken apology in her eyes.

His breath catches. He can feel the words coming before she even says them, but he’s still not ready. “They’re all true, Kook.” she says softly, her tone gentle.

Jungkook stares at his mother with wide eyes, the weight of her confession pressing down on him like a heavy storm cloud. His thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief, and the depth of her words only leaves him more perplexed.

But before he can even form a coherent question, she continues, her tone soft but firm, as if determined to finally unburden herself after all these years.

“When we were in Busan....” she begins, her gaze drifting towards the window where sunlight filters through the newly drawn curtains, illuminating the room with a brightness Jungkook hadn’t seen in days.

“It was hard, Kook. Being a single mother… it wasn’t easy. People weren’t exactly kind, and landing a decent job was a struggle. But somehow, I managed to secure a position at a respectable company. It felt like a turning point.”

Jungkook listens intently, noticing how her voice wavers slightly. “Life became a little easier after that.” she continues.

“I could give you a proper allowance. I was able to afford your photography courses in high school. I even started saving money... something I never thought I’d be able to do. For the first time, I thought life was finally falling into place.”

She pauses, her lips curling into a bittersweet smile. “And maybe, in hindsight, I got a little greedy. I started thinking... now that we were stable, maybe it was time for me to think about myself for once. To find love again.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows slightly, confusion flickering across his features. She notices but presses on, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and regret. “My manager at the time… he was a kind man. At least, I thought he was. I don’t know if he pitied me or if his feelings were genuine, but... one thing led to another, and we fell in love.”

She pauses, exhaling softly. “For a while, everything was perfect. You were thriving in school, my bank account wasn’t empty anymore, and for the first time in years, I felt like a woman again... like someone who was cared for. I even thought about introducing him to you, about telling you that I’d found someone who made me happy.”

Her expression darkens slightly, the corners of her lips twitching downward. “But all of that changed one night. I was working late, staying overtime to finish a project. I stepped out to the coffee room for a quick break, and on my way back, I heard noises coming from one of the conference rooms. It sounded... strange... like someone was yelling.”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten, the anticipation growing as his mother’s voice lowers, tinged with unease. “I got curious and peeked in. What I saw... I still... I still wish I hadn’t. My manager... the man I thought I wanted to build a future with... was berating an employee." she pauses, letting out a soft breath.

"But it wasn’t just yelling. It was violent. He was shoving the employee, slamming papers onto the desk, threatening them. At first, I thought it was a one-off, maybe a moment of stress. But the more I watched, the uglier it got. He was kicking their knees, smacking their face, saying vile things like they were less than human.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides. “Did you... did you saying anything back then?” he asks quietly.

“I should've... but I didn't because honestly, I wasn’t sure what I’d seen... ” she replies, her voice steady but heavy with the weight of the memory. “But something inside me told me it wasn’t an isolated incident. So I started paying attention. Watching him. Watching others in the company. And, Kook... it wasn’t just him.”

Her gaze drops to her hands, now gripping the edge of the plate in her lap. “It was everywhere around the company. Managers and higher-ups abusing their authority, taking advantage of their employees. Screaming at them, humiliating them, even threatening to ruin their careers. And worse... when I started digging deeper, I found financial misconduct, embezzlement, and exploitation.”

Jungkook feels the air grow thick with the gravity of her words. “I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. So, I started collecting evidence... voice recordings, videos, emails. Anything I could use to expose them. And eventually... I did.”

She smiles faintly, but it’s laced with bitterness. “I went to the authorities anonymously and leaked everything. At first, it seemed like justice might prevail. The company took a massive hit, and several higher-ups were investigated. But it didn’t end there.”

“What... what happened?” Jungkook whispers, his voice trembling.

“The company was owned by a powerful, influential family and the scandal bothered them... a lot.” she explains, her tone growing quieter and Jungkook immediately knows who she's referring to.

“It didn’t take the company long to figure out who had leaked the information. And when they did... everything came back to me. The media had a field day. My name was dragged through the mud. People called me unprofessional, accused me of sleeping with my manager to gain favors. They twisted everything to make me look like the villain.”

Her voice cracks slightly, but she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “I didn’t care about my reputation, Kook. But I cared about you. I was terrified that you’d be dragged into it, that kids at your school would bully you, that your life would change because of my actions. And I couldn’t let that happen. So, with what little savings I had left, I made the decision to leave. To move far away, to a place where I could give you a better future. It was hasty, yes, but looking back... I don’t regret it... at all. I’d do it again to protect you.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens, his chest aching as he watches the quiet strength in his mother’s face. Her sacrifices, her pain... it all begins to make sense, to sink in, piece by piece. “Ma... I didn’t know...” he murmurs, his voice breaking.

“I never wanted you to.” she replies, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his face. “All I ever wanted was for you to have a life free from the burdens I carried. And if I had to do it all over again, Kook, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Jungkook feels his vision blur with tears, and before he can stop himself, he leans forward, pulling his mother into a tight hug. His arms tremble as they wrap around her, and he buries his face into her shoulder, letting out the sobs he'd been holding back.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Mom." he cries, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His mother strokes his back gently, her touch soothing even as her own tears threaten to spill. "Oh, sweetheart, don’t be sorry." she chuckles, her voice soft yet steady. "You don’t need to apologize for anything."

A few quiet seconds pass. "You know... I really thought she was the one." Jungkook whispers. "But it... it just got too much. I tried so hard to be strong... no matter how much her mother tried to walk all over me." He pulls his mother closer, his grip tightening as his emotions spill over.

"I love her so much, Ma." he cries, burying his face against her shoulder. "But now... I just... I just want to go home." His voice drops to a quiet murmur.

His mother says nothing, holding him still, her presence grounding him as he clings to the one person who has always been there.

They stay like that, wrapped in an embrace that feels timeless. Jungkook feels like a child again, sheltered in the safety of his mother’s arms, a refuge against the storm raging in his heart. The room falls silent except for the soft hum of their breaths, the world outside momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, his mother shifts, gently pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. She cups his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that streak his cheeks. Her lips curve into a soft, loving smile, though her eyes glisten.

"I may not have had much luck in love..." she begins, her tone tender. "But you, Kook… you don’t have to carry that fear. You’re not me."

Jungkook blinks at her, his sniffles the only sound breaking the stillness as she continues. "I know this is a lot to take in. And I know things have unfolded in ways neither of us ever wanted." she says.

"But you’re stronger than you think. And you deserve to let yourself love, even if it feels terrifying." She pauses, letting her words settle. Then, after a moment, she smiles again, her voice soft but purposeful.

"You know… Y/n was the one who called me and brought me here." she reveals. Jungkook’s brows knit in surprise, but he stays silent, his eyes searching hers. "That girl… she cares about you so much, Jungkook. More than I think you even realize."

Her smile falters slightly, replaced by a solemn look. "I know it’s hard." she says. "Facing her, facing everything after what’s happened... it’s not easy. And knowing the challenges her family brings into the picture… it must feel overwhelming."

Jungkook lowers his gaze, his hands curling into fists in his lap. His mother reaches out, gently covering one of his hands with her own, her touch warm and reassuring. "But shutting her out, ignoring her... that will only hurt her." she says. "And it’ll hurt you even more."

Her words feel like a lifeline, cutting through the fog clouding his mind. He looks up at her, his heart aching at the sincerity in her expression. There’s no judgment in her eyes... only love, hope, and unwavering belief in him.

"You don’t have to worry about me anymore." she continues, her voice soft but firm. "I’ll be okay, Kook. I’ve made my peace with the past."

She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "So do what your heart tells you." she whispers, her voice filled with gentle conviction.

"If you still want to go back, I’ll understand. But I still think you should go and talk to her, before we go."

Jungkook closes his eyes, letting her words sink in, and for the first time in days, he feels the faintest flicker of clarity, a spark of hope amid the chaos.

//

The cool evening breeze brushes past your hair as you gaze down at the glimmering water, the rippling reflections of streetlights dancing on the surface of the tranquil sincheon river. The world around you feels quiet, yet your chest churns with restlessness.

Jungkook had finally reached out. He had called. And you had begged him to meet you. You needed to see him because frankly, you were practically unraveling without him.

Now, here you are, waiting by the walking trail that winds along the river. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you lift your gaze up to the sky. The sun has long set, but its remnants linger, smearing the horizon with hues of violet and amber, like a bruise spreading across the heavens.

You're nervous, scared even. You don’t know what you’re going to say or what he might have to tell you. You just hope that his mother, whom you had called in desperation, was able to ease some of the burden you knew he was carrying.

Your mind is a chaotic swirl of emotions, tangled in fear and anticipation but the sound of approaching footsteps halts the train of your thoughts. You whip around, your heart leaping to your throat. And there he is. Your boyfriend.

His presence seems to anchor you and unmoor you at once. Your breath catches as you take in his appearance... he looks drained, exhausted. His eyes are shadowed by evident dark circles, and his shoulders droop with a weariness that tugs painfully at your chest.

All you want to do is pull him close, to hold him, to protect him. Without hesitation, you do just that.

"Baby... oh my god." you breathe out, your voice trembling as you jog up to him. Wrapping your arms around his frame, you cling to him tightly, pressing your face against his chest. His familiar scent, warm and grounding, fills your senses. "I missed you." you whisper.

His arms move just as quickly, circling your waist with the same desperate fervor, holding you as though letting go might shatter him. "I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

The warmth of his breath grazes the curve of your neck, and in that moment, something inside you unravels... a knot of fear and longing dissolves into the solace of his embrace.

The world around you melts away, leaving only the sound of the river lapping gently and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

The two of you stay entwined in that embrace and minutes stretch into something timeless, and slowly, reluctantly, you open your eyes and carefully pull away. Your gaze meets his, and the weight of your emotions crashes over you like a tidal wave. Tears spring to your eyes, unbidden.

“Kook... I’m sorry.” you begin, your voice trembling as your lip quivers. “I’m sorry for everything. I don’t know what my mom was thinking—” Your words catch, a sob escaping your chest, breaking through the dam you’ve tried to hold steady.

“Hey...” Jungkook breathes out gently, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His thumbs brush away your tears, though they continue rolling down your cheek. “It’s okay.” he whispers, his voice steady yet tender, a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

But you shake your head, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry for everything, Kook. I really am.” you choke out, your voice cracking under the weight of your regret.

“It’s not your fault.” he murmurs, his dark eyes searching yours, shimmering with his own restrained emotions. “Shhh...” he hushes you, pulling you close again.

His embrace is solid, a haven, and you wonder how someone can carry so much grace. Even now, when he should be the one comforted, he holds you together.

The tears spill freely as you bury yourself in his arms, your body trembling against his. Jungkook’s hands move gently along your back, his touch rhythmic and calming. “This past week... it’s been so hard, Kook. I missed you so much.” you manage between sobs, your voice cracking.

Jungkook feels his heart splintering, guilt threading its way through him. He tightens his hold on you, his own breath hitching as he battles the storm inside. He knows he hurt you by shutting you out, but at the time, it felt like the only way he could cope. He was drowning too.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face. His hand stays warm against your damp cheek, his thumb gliding across the soft curve of your cheekbone.

When your teary eyes lock with his, something magnetic draws you closer. You tilt your head upward, closing your eyes, and press your lips to his in a kiss that feels like both an apology and a plea.

Jungkook responds instantly, his lips meeting yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. His hands anchor you in place, one cradling your jaw while the other settles at your waist.

The kiss deepens, raw and full of unspoken emotions, and you can feel in the way his lips move against yours just how much he’s missed you, too.

When he finally pulls back, breathless, his chest rises and falls rapidly. “I’m sorry I shut you out...” he exhales.

You shake your head quickly. “No, Kook. You had every reason to. What my mom did... it was unforgivable. She had no right to come at you like that... and... and disrespect you like that.”

Stepping back slightly, you look up at him, your hands still resting lightly on his chest. “I had no idea she’d been scheming all of this behind my back. When I brought you here, I just... I wanted to introduce you to my family because you’re so important to me. You’re everything to me.” Your voice softens, but your words are laced with an ache that refuses to go away.

“I should’ve seen it coming, though. The first time she was rude to you in the kitchen, I should’ve taken the hint. I should’ve warned her to stay out of this.”

He exhales deeply, the sound heavy with a mix of resignation and lingering pain. Slowly, he moves past you as he edges closer to the riverbank.

"I knew she never liked me..." he starts, his voice low, carrying the weight of a truth he’s held in for too long. "It was so obvious. She didn’t even try to hide it." A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, but it’s laced with pain, not mirth.

You follow him quietly, closing the distance, until you’re standing right next to him. The cold bites at your cheeks, but the ache in his voice hurts even more.

Together, you gaze at the dark river ahead, the water shimmering faintly under the moonlight and the surrounding streetlights.

"A part of me understood her..." he continues, turning his head slightly towards you. His eyes, glistening but guarded, meet yours for a fleeting moment before he looks away. "She had every right to be worried. I mean… I’m dating her daughter. Of course, she’d be protective."

You hold his gaze briefly but remain silent, sensing he needs to say more.

"Maybe she doubted my intentions..." he admits, his tone soft but raw, like he’s peeling back layers of himself for you. "Maybe she thought I could never be good enough for you." His shoulders rise in a small shrug, his expression distant.

"All of that… it’s valid. I could accept it, you know? I would’ve tried. Tried to prove myself to her, even if it felt impossible."

He stops, his jaw tightening as he stares at the water. The moonlight catches on his profile, illuminating the subtle tremor in his lips as he fights to hold himself back from brutally cracking open.

"But when she brought up my mother..." His voice wavers, and he turns his face away, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "She said she didn’t want to be linked to a family like mine. And that…" He exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the memory. "That broke me."

You feel your chest tighten at his words, your heart aching for the pain he’s trying so hard to contain. He doesn’t need to explain further because you already understand what he's trying to say.

"Kook..." you call out softly, inching closer and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "She was so so wrong... so wrong. And it wasn’t fair to you at all."

He turns his head slightly, his gaze flickering to yours, the sadness in his eyes now tinged with something else... perhaps relief at being seen, or maybe the fact that he can finally open up.

"And I’m done." you say, your voice firmer now, though it still trembles at the edges. "I’m done making excuses for her. For her actions, for the way she treated you, for the way she handled things."

You reach out with your other hand, cupping his jaw and guiding his face towards you. His eyes, meet yours fully now. "Kook..." you whisper, your breath hitching as his name falls from your lips.

"Your past, what your mom did, my reputation… none of that matters to me. It never has, and it never will." Your thumb gently grazes his cheek, and you see the tension in his jaw loosen, ever so slightly. "All that matters to me is you."

His lips part as if to respond, but the words seem to fail him. You press on, your voice shaking with sincerity.

"You matter so much to me..." you confess, your heart pounding as you take another step closer, until there’s no space left between you. "And I’m ready to leave all of this behind... I'm ready to walk out of everything if it means I can be with you. None... of this matters without you."

He looks down at you, his brows furrowing as he tries to process the enormity of your words. His chest rises and falls heavily under your touch, his breath warm against the cool night air.

"Let’s start over." you say, your voice soft but resolute. "Let’s start a new life together in New York... our home. That’s where we belong, Kook. That’s where I belong. With you."

Your words hang in the air, suspended between the two of you, and you can feel the shift in him... his walls crumbling under the weight of what you're saying.

"Let's elope, Kook."

<- part 6 // final ->

series masterlist

taglist: @mirinaeii @taetaecatboy @tsukiesimp @lovingkoalaface @taekrve @jaytheatiny @loverofannabeth @jaerisdiction @whoa-jo @parkinglot-nights @reneeblack6230 @rrosiitas @shellyyy177 @majesticjung-97 @wobblewobble822

[purplephloxpress]

Another year, another Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!!!! If you are a writer of fanfic, please know just how appreciated you are!! Fandom would be such a different space without your creativity and labors of love. 💜

Holidays are all about making traditions, and the bookbinding friends with @renegadeguild once again came together to bind copies of fics for their authors as a show of our appreciation. This year I had the absolute joy of binding Emergency Help Wanted by the wonderful @piyo-13 and even got to collaborate with her on some of the design elements! It's a Modern AU Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen fic that starts with a "help wanted" ad.

EMERGENCY HELP WANTED

I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.

Ok. So. I may have gone a little feral with this one. Online "help wanted" ad spiraled into loading wheel scene dividers, spiraled into fake Google search result headers, spiraled into FULLY committing to those authentic looking text messages. In full color. (There are so many. I typeset in MS Word. It was SO worth it, but god what a struggle at some points.) And don't forget the "recent searches" title page! Or the computer cutout on the cover! (It's bluescreening, just like Lan Xichen through this entire fic!) Also that cover/title page image that I just kept adding details to. (It's supposed to be Lan Xichen's desk, so it simply didn't feel right until it had sticky notes on the computer, #1 dad on the mug, scissors and measuring tape, scribbles on the sticky notes) Did I have a ton of fun designing this one? Perhaps. Couldn't say. Maybe just a tad. (This is a lie I had an ABSOLUTE BLAST!)

Historically, I've waited until I finish at least the typeset before reaching out to the author, but not so with this one! I got the idea for the fake google search results from Piyo's authors notes, teasing the contents of the next chapter. But! Those didn't start until about chapter 4! So I reached out and asked if we could collaborate and I'm forever glad I did! Not only does this have teasers for each chapter, I also got to bounce design ideas off of her, including what shade of blue and purple for the text messages. Because my friends, that is a serious matter and changed SEVERAL times throughout the process.

Also shoutout to all my Renegade friends who gave input and encouragement over the past year while I worked on this (what endpages to use? how to make this shade of green perfectly Nie Huaisang? how do we feel about this text message design? or how about this one?) - I love you all dearly and appreciate you so much for putting up with my nonsense at all times.

Binding details below the cut!

Fandom: The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pairing: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin / Lan Huan | Lan Xichen

Bookcloth: Aqua/Purple Dubletta from Colophon Book Arts

Endpapers: Craft Consortium Ink Drops - Ocean pack

Textblock paper: short grain cream from Church Paper

Titling: We R Memory Keepers foil quill

Endbands: leather cording core, DMC embroidery floss for the bands

Body Font: EB Garamond

Title Font: Berlin Sans FB

Text Messages: Roboto

Additional fonts: Times New Roman, Kunstler Script, Magis Authentic

Title page image from Rawpixel and designed in Canva

Various computer graphics from The Noun Project

Tumblr insists on eating and doubling text in this section at its own whim, so if there's something missing that you're curious about, feel free to DM me an ask!

[inawickedlittletown]

No Queerbaiting Here

A long time ago…I’m talking May of 2021, I wrote a meta post about queerbaiting. Essentially an essay. I wrote it right before the S4 finale of 9-1-1 aired because I was frustrated by Buddie fans calling Queerbait entirely like the boy that cried wolf. I still stand by it. Sort of. 

Now, even back then I was pretty clear about how 50/50 I was on Buddie ever going canon. (Maybe not in that post but certainly elsewhere) But, I shipped Buddie then and wrote a lot of fic and meta and participated in fandom. I never said it couldn’t happen…I just would never be bothered if it didn’t.

Where we stand now: It’s not going to happen. 

And where I stand now: fully immersed in Bucktommy. And what’s more, I am more than perfectly happy about Buck and Tommy staying together and going the long-run. Although I can still look at Buddie and think it’s a cute ship, I just don’t want it in canon. I would not be satisfied if the show went that way. But what’s more if Buck and Tommy don’t work out, that would be disappointing, but I’d be okay as long as they got to be happy. There is, after all, always fanfiction. 

So, I wanted to revisit this concept a bit now that Buck has been confirmed as Bisexual and now that he is in a relationship with a man. Not Eddie. Tommy. And somehow, some Buddie fans are still crying queerbait because their ship is not canon. That’s not how it works. Also…shipping works outside of canon, that’s the whole point of shipping. 

To reiterate from my original post on queerbaiting, here’s the definition from wikipedia:

“Queerbaiting is a marketing technique for fiction and entertainment in which creators hint at, but then do not actually depict, same-sex romance or other LGBTQ representation. They do so to attract a queer or straight ally audience with the suggestion of relationships or characters that appeal to them, while at the same time attempting to avoid alienating other consumers.” 

Here’s where I stand: Buddie was abandoned a long time ago. If it was ever a real possibility, we won’t ever know. What we do know is that Oliver was aware that at one point he had given them the go-ahead to make Buck Bi. Whether this was by putting Buck and Eddie together or having Buck realize this another way, we just don’t know that. We don’t have that information and nor will it probably ever be provided to us. Narratively, I know that a lot of fans figured the timing of it fit with S4 and that particular finale but we really just don’t know despite what happened in the finale.

I found that interesting looking back at my own post from back then and the discussion that followed where some fans felt that the way the finale went would determine if Buddie would be another queerbait ship. (I think most people agreed after the will scene that it wasn’t queerbait because it did leave a kernel of hope that Buddie might still happen). 

And yeah, I guess you could argue that the network deciding not to go the route of a queer storyline points to missed opportunity. That doesn’t then mean that any queerbaiting occurred or that any fans are owed anything just because something that was set up or that the writers were writing towards was then scrapped by the network. Is it a shame that it didn’t happen in whatever way they wanted to play it out, sure, but only because Buck would have been confirmed queer earlier. In the same vein isn’t it nice that we have a confirmed Bisexual Buck now? That the show managed to bring it back to that.

A Buck that is happy and free and that has realized something so monumental about himself? Isn’t it nice that all the queer coding that Buck as a character has received since the start of the show is actually finally not just queer coding but full on character development? That we can look back at the show and see all the things Buck did around other men for exactly what they were. 

When Tommy first returned to 9-1-1 in S7, I think a lot of us were excited by the spoilers about Buck and Tommy because of Bi Buck, but also because this was the thing that could lead to Buddie. 

And then…then Tommy was actually on my screen and I doubted it. I actually thought maybe the spoilers were wrong and this was about Eddie and Tommy? That episode flipped things in such an expertly way that by the time Tommy and Buck were sharing a kiss for the first time I was right there with Buck. On a second watch, it is all there. Buck was never jealous because his friend was ignoring him. He was jealous because his best friend had the attention of the guy whose attention he wanted for himself. The writing on that was perfect and no amount of twisting it can change what happened on screen. 

Buck was not jealous because of Eddie. Tommy was never interested in more than friendship with Eddie. And Buck and Tommy have nothing to do with Buddie. Tommy is not a stepping stone, a way for Buck to be ready to then embark on a relationship with Eddie. That’s both disrespectful to Tommy and Buck, but just not what the story being told on the show is doing. 

The storyline is monumental. Having a big strong guy, a firefighter, figure out his sexuality in his thirties is such good storytelling and add to that Tommy. Someone that we already know, who already works as a first responder, and who can show up and wow Buck in such a way that he realizes something about himself? This is what I’ve always wanted. Because guess what, Buck never questioned his sexuality before this. Not when he met Eddie and not when he met anyone else, not until Tommy. 

Going into the new season we know a few things and one of those is that Buck and Tommy are thriving. The media coverage talks about them as a solid couple, it talks about Buck having someone to turn to and complain to. It talks about how they are still in the getting to know each other phase and I love that for them. I love how they are being treated and described and I can’t wait to see what plays out for them and how much of the build up of their relationship we may get to actually see. 

Do you know what the media and the show never talked about outwardly like this? Buddie. Whenever it came up it was always brushed aside in a way that was respectful to fans and what they saw, but without ever confirming or hinting that the show would ever go there. They never queerbaited anyone with Buddie, what they have done is say “yeah…we know what you see” and then turned around and given us a Buck and Eddie friendship and Buck kissing Tommy, going on a date with Tommy, and thriving with Tommy. 

So, no queerbaiting here on the show where half of the major canon pairings are queer. It’s actually more like some fans baiting other fans with theories and headcanons that just don’t fit.

[inc0mple]

🗝️ ”Keys Are People, Too” 100 Chapter Q&A ⭐️ (ongoing!)

(Last edit: 12/20 10:40 CST)

Hi! :) If y’all don’t know me my name is Inco (it’s not but shh) and I write a fanfiction for Cinderella Boy called Keys Are People, Too. It’s not finished, it’s ongoing and rapidly approaching 100 chapters XD (yes we are like four chapters away but shh rounding) (I PROMISE WE’RE ALMOST TO THE LAST ACT). So because of an ask from @isitamia and, we’ll say the 100 chapter milestone… tada Q&A??

I don’t know how many people are going to engage with this but that’s totally okay :) I love ranting about stuff and I’ve put a lot of thought into this story, so it would be cool to have an outlet to answer some questions where they don’t get forgotten in AO3 comments. And if you guys also have general questions about writing advice/things like that, I am not an expert but I do also like talking about stories.

So please ask! I’m not planning to close this at any specific time—I was thinking y’all could comment questions under this post or via reblogs (I might miss them in reblogs though) and I will edit this post to answer them, and also reply to you so you know your question is answered. This might get like 10 notes and that’s fine haha (I have zero idea how many people regularly read my story beyond the ones who leave comments), but if there are a lot of questions I’ll try to categorize them. Really just a place to drop info for fun :)

Q&A below ⬇️

I tried to make it organized. It's... kind of organized. Kind of.

Plot/Characters

"What key archetype isn't one of the siblings? Do we get to know their archetypes soon?" asked by @spookieee28 12/20

I'm not gonna say the archetypes at this point in time because it risks spoilers. You will find out by the end of the story and hopefully by that points all of the archetypes should be relatively clear. Some have already been mentioned like the chapter "Heralds and Thieves" for Jade and Cooper, I think (?) Cora has been mentioned as the Innocent archetype, etcetera.

"Which character do you struggle writing the most and which feels easier for you, if you have preferences?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

"Do you ever struggle with keeping Cinderella Boy's canon characters in character?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

I'll answer both of these together. Chase is pretty easy for me because I just channel chaotic gremlin energy and it seems to work. Buddy is OKAY although I am struggling right now making him vulnerable while still retaining him Buddy-ish-ness if that makes sense? Deacon is just Deacon... I am sorry, I feel like I don't really do anything to characterize him, he's just there as a sounding board XD I will say- I daydream situations for CB ALL THE TIME which gives me a lot of comfortability with the canon characters and considering what they would do and say and how they would react. I do have a little bit of difficulty characterizing the human keys so I just kinda went like "oh WELL that's because, UUHHHH, the key siblings don't match the keys exactly! That's it that's the answer!" because I felt like Silver wasn't quite Silver-ish and stuff. As for struggling writing the most I have two main answers.

BRONTE. For those who maybe haven't read this but are scrolling through it anyway, or aren't there yet, Bronte is the "human" version of Bronze and I kinda accidentally eliminated him from the story until like... the 80th chapte ror something like that. I had a lot of trouble actually writing his dialogue and scenes with Chase. It just did not have Bronze's snarky energy. So that was tough and I feel bad because I really feel like I did not do him justice :c

DUKE RAVENELL!!!!!! Ravenell hates me. He gives me so much trouble primarily because I just plunked him in at the beginning and didn't give him a real personality beyond a few vague notions. I've really had to sculpt his character as I went and it's especially difficult because Ravenell is intended to do a lot of plot device-ing. He perpetuates a lot of themes in the story and he is a HUGE character foil to Chase, because he often reflects the opposite of Chase's (and Idonea's) values and intentions. I want him to be morally grey and I am constantly fighting a BATTLE with this man to make sure he isn't too likeable or too hateable. I posted on Tumblr like a week ago really just asking for a diagnostic and the response made my day because people are all OVER the place about this man, some people love him, some will never forgive him, some are like "he's alright but there's something off about him and I can't help but distrust him" and others are like "I know he keeps making mistakes but I can't help but trust him" and I LOVE IT. Fortunately I think he's finally in a place perception-wise where I want him. I want the confusion. So badly. Only now I have to continue to fight this stupid tug-o'-war to keep him properly dividing until the end of the story XD

Behind the scenes

"How did you come up with the plot for KAPT? Was it just a little thought that popped up in your head one day, or did you have like inspiration or something?" asked by @xcitrix 12/20

"Did you have an idea for how you wanted the story to end when you first started writing or did you come up with more ideas while working on it?" asked by @lapileaf 12/20

I'mma answer both of these (and any others if they are asked) in kinda the same go if that's alright. In August I was wanting to write some fanfiction for CB, and one idea rotating in my head was, what if Chase went into a nonfiction book? Like he thought it the most effective way to study for a history project, or he saw a mention of Ex Libris, or something. So, completely directionless, I drabbled out the first chapter of KAPT where they find the book in the museum and... adopt it. And then it sat there in my Google Docs for like two weeks while I worked on a different fanfiction, Violets and Chains. I tried to return to it a little bit and got through the first anthology chapter where they're in the Chartesia battle, but that too did not have a plot behind it, I was like "myeh... trebuchets... uh... and now there's a guy... oh maybe they're PRISONERS..." And then brain did not work and I gave up. Eventually got myself together, BS-ed the rest of the scene, and then sat down and essentially ranted to myself about potential ideas until I figured out the plot.

More ideas have kept cropping up as I've worked on it. There are certain puzzle pieces that are foreshadowed in even teh first ten chapters that I didn't even mean to foreshadow because I hadn't thought of the yet - the plot was generally mapped out but has defintely been refined and added to as time goes on. Eventually you get into the flow of a story and everything just starts clicking into place, like you yourself are theorizing about an external work. Keep in mind that because I am publishing it as I write each chapter, KAPT is a first draft, and I have to hatch out plot points and main parts of the story as I write and make my best effort to recover any loose threads or things like that. It's a fun exercise!

"Do you plan to stick to the story you have already till the end or is there a possiblity you'll have to change some things if we get to know more about canon Ex Libris/Buddy lore while it's still ongoing?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20

There are some new bits of information that are kinda iffy for KAPT, but ultimately because KAPT takes place inside a book most of the Buddy/Ex Libris lore is not applicable. Regarding Buddy's situation I am going to go ahead like I was planning to originally, and I'll add a disclaimer when time permits. I don't think either way throws a wrench in the plans too much but I would rather be confident in the themes I've already set up as opposed to trying to hastily recover new lore in the last third of the story, if that makes sense.

"How did you come up with your ocs? I know some, like Jaime, come from another original story of yours ... but what about characters like Ravenell, Galeus, and Rose? What inspired you? How did you decide their personaltiy, their struggles? Did you take inspiration from yourself for anyone, similar to how Punko took inspiration from herself for Chase? Do you follow any specific process to come up with ocs, like follow a list, scheme, or coming up with hypothetical scneraios?" asked by @isitamia 12/20

A lot of the characters are cameos from a passion project I've been working on for years called IFI (no I will not tell you what it stands for) - Jaime and emma are from there, as well as several others including Alexei, Nishan, Mattheo, Kelitia, Indie (the Marchioness), King Aarius, and King Olivyn. So those are just plunked in and then Jaime decided to become part of the plot. As for the other original characters made specifically for KAPT, they just kinda got plopped in for one reason or another (I wanted Rose to connect to the Chartesia lore, Ravenell to have a foil for Chase, and Galeus because, well, there had to be a king) and then I slowly worked to build connections, themes, and character. Often times I don't specifically sit down and think "this character will be this way", it just emerges naturally from their dialogue, like I'm chiseling something out that was already in the stone like an archeologist, as opposed to carving my own new sculpture. I've always written that way and it makes it difficult when I am required to add structure to my writing or explain why I do things the way I do. I will say it is all VERY inspired from my own life and beliefs; Rose exists as a confidante in the story, and many of her more preachy dialogue pieces are things I'm getting out of my system. So yeah, not really a lot of structure to it, they just appear... and I figure them out as I go... most of my characters are in some way facets of myself or the way I percieve life. As I get more experienced with writing I'm sure I'll be more intentional with them, but for now, they are Athena and I am Zeus.

"How do you post daily" (kind of) asked by @isitamia 12/20

To give an actual answer for this because I know it's a lot to post a 2-4k chapter PER DAY - I am a student and have a LOT of downtime in class where I can't really do anything but write. That is how. Also, I have taught myself to be a prolific writer because that is the thing in my life I can always rely on when other things are unstable.

"How did you extend the story so far? I love the plot and it's kinda insane how you were able to develop it so much, at this point it's a full novel and I kinda live for it LOL. Also how long would you consider one act?" asked by @shyve3 12/20

Two parts to this question, I will answer them both;

I didn't mean to. I am really bad about being concise; I can't. When I write and get passionate about a story there's so much I want to stay and I can rarely fit it into what most people consider a pallatable length. I just get going and... idk... unstoppable force or something lol. And yes KAPT is at least the length of a typical trilogy XD ITS BEEN FIVE MONTHS

Regarding the act question, I ORIGINALLY said KAPT would be three acts, with the first ending when Chase goes down into Rose's "tomb" for the first time, the second ending with the Bronte part, and the third being the final one. It is actually more like four now, with the "second" act split into two at the masquerade ball. We are so close to being onto the actual final act, which should be a 4th of the total fic, so we have maybe 30 chapters left (?) (we'll see lol)

I don't have a specific length, it's just the way the story tends to ebb and flow if that makes sense?

General stuff

"Do you have any advice as a writer?" asked by @iwikpines 12/20

I AM SO BAD ABOUT THIS because I really do just go type type type and words appear. I know there's more to it than that but I've spent a lot of time writing and not a lot of time learning how to write so I have the experience without the actual education behind it. Write what you care about :) I mean NO DUH but like - your best stories will come from the heart. You will find prolificness (is that a word?) in PASSION. If I didn't care about Cinderella Boy or the themes I'm trying to communicate in KAPT would I spent my days writing a chapter a day ABSOLUTELY FRIGGIN NOT I'd be writing a different story. So yeah - write what you love and your audience will find you. What the world needs is a buncha people doing what they love really well because it's what they care about. Also, I didn't include your full comment here, but I am excited to read your fanfiction! <3 Please post it on Tumblr when you also post it elsewhere!

[birdsong-goeson]

Jealous Alejandro kidnaps Valeria's girlfriend (1.6k words part 4)

Summary: Valeria breaks into the headquarters of the Mexican Army in search of her wife.

TW: implied sexual violence, violence more generally (and Google Translated Mexican Spanish)

Note: I'm back from my home country y'all and free to write gay fanfiction once again. I'm working on the next part ASAP but I wanted to post this because you guys have been waiting forever. Thank you for all the lovely comments and the interactions!! means a lot to me that you guys enjoy reading this :>

Link to A03 Link to part 1, part 2, part 3. Next part: part 5

'Army soldier' was more than a type of occupation, more than any other job title; it was a lifestyle. It is truly a different way of life, a way of life that most people are simply not built for. A soldier's form - their straight back, their way of taking in the world around them within a second, their way of assessing everything as either hostile or neutral, their battlefield instinct - it all became an inseparable part of who they are. There is a certain instinct that gets drilled into soldiers, the instinct to act immediately and fast. The instinct to not think twice about running into danger. It is triggered immediately and triggered intensely. So when the emergency siren at the Mexican Army Headquarters wailed, the whole place came alive. No time was wasted before troops placed themselves in position. Snipers grabbed their rifles and headed for the rooftops, Captains and sergeants tuned into their mics, barking orders to their subordinates, assembling their troops as quickly as possible. Guards ran to their posts and pilots rushed to where their aircraft were getting readied by flying personnel, prepared to take off to gain an advantage in the airfield and a much-needed vantage point of what was happening. The armoury opened as many hands reached within for ammo and other equipment.

From the outside, it was a perfect scene of military efficiency and readiness. But from the inside, anxiety bubbled, threatening to cut loose.

"Why did this have to happen today of all days?" A soldier grumbled as he tightened his weapon belt.

"Someone planned this. It's the most popular day for annual leave," another responded as he grabbed his shoes.

"Dia de los Muertos," the first one said, his voice low and grim.

The Day of the Dead. Celebrated annually around November 1st but spanning over the course of multiple days. A day of celebration for life and death, a day to pay respects to those who have passed on. A time of parades on squares and community gatherings, with crowds of people in traditional costumes and painted faces taking to the streets to rejoice with others. A time when many troops were stationed outside the headquarters for public safety. A time, therefore, of relatively little staff being left behind to man the fort.

It was so perfect, Valeria almost giggled as she withdrew her knife from someone's body and let them drop to the floor.

She had infiltrated the headquarters from the underground tunnels that connected to some fields further out, which were created to be used in emergencies but had been long forgotten over the years. These were the same tunnels she took many years back when she wanted to see you on a day that she hadn't booked off. She would wait until most of the barracks were asleep before slipping away in the shadows, passing the guards and quietly unscrewing the lid that separated the tunnels from the world above ground. It was even more exciting once she taught you when and where to wait for her, at the end of the tunnel, among greenery and orange trees. Among the fields that you would lay on for the rest of the night underneath your blanket, touching each other's bodies and talking to the stars. Whispering how badly you'd missed each other, hearing the hum of insects in between short gasps and warm moans. Now, she had unscrewed these same lids and stabbed the person in front of her, dragging them out and passing the body along to the staff that followed her. They dumped the body back in the fields. Part of her found it annoying that these tunnels were always standing between her and her wife. And yet there was some charm, too. Travelling the bowels of the Earth for her love.

Having officially stepped on ground owned by the Mexican Army, El Sin Nombre and her people spread like a virus, taking down certain key spots and hiding bodies. Not enough damage to create immediate alarm, but good enough progress to feel confident about the next step. Her heart sped up in excitement as she thought of her wife, who was only one building and a lock away from her. And right in front of that building, was him.

Valeria looked out from one of the windows and saw Alejandro standing with his back straight, his face possessing a deep scowl as he conversed with Rudolpho. It had been many years since she last saw him, which was nothing memorable. There was no goodbye, no farewell. She had simply gotten up in the middle of the night and gazed at his face one final time; he glistened beneath the moonlight. He was younger then, his face smoother, his voice gentler; not yet hardened. A mass of muscle on a standard issue Army bed, he was unaware that the woman he loved was slipping right through his fingers. Unaware that by the time he woke up, she'd be gone.

There'd be nothing left behind to prove that she even existed. All of her things just went missing alone with her. She didn't even leave a picture behind to immortalise their love, to have something to look at during those nights when his heart almost gave out, when he realised that he was starting to forget what she looked like. That he could no longer remember her voice. Now, as she looked at him, she wondered why they even started a relationship in the first place. He was attractive, sure, but nothing special. Not like the woman in the box.

He was older now, his face more wrinkled. Valeria was raised with the idea that in women, this quality had the same visual effect as decaying fruit. When Valeria looked in the mirror and saw her signs of age - the smile lines that wouldn't smooth out when her smile fell, the lines around her mouth that could not be covered by cosmetics, the wrinkles around her eyes - it reminded her of something that was starting to fade. But in men, the quality was different, more merciful. More like maturing. It enraged her to see him getting older. To see him in the exact same place that she left him. The memories attached to this place were too much to handle. Memories of her younger years kept materialising at the edge of her vision, like a trick of the light; a shadow figure that kept pursuing. It used to be her, out there in the yard. Talking with Alejandro and Rudy, passing along jokes during a long day. But right now it was just the two of them, talking with ease like she had never been there at all. And right at that moment, as she gazed down at them, the alarm went off. What a glorious opportunity to have a front-row seat to witness Alejandro's reaction once she pulled the rug from underneath his feet. There was no more time to waste. She forced herself to stop gloating at these shadows of the past and to move forward. With each step, she got closer to her wife, her sweetheart. Valeria felt weightless, she felt herself glide through the space between herself and Y/N. She would pause here and there to ensure she did not reveal herself to her enemies. At times, she stealthily murdered someone who could have easily been her roommate back when she was a cadet. But that was another lifetime, a lifetime of making the wrong friendships and choosing the wrong lovers. She wasted no time on these obstacles. At last, her hand encircled the handle of the container. She pushed her weight into it and entered, ready for anything. Be it to murder a guard, or to embrace her love; her instincts were on the front seat. She could kill a hundred men if it came to it.

“Valeria. Bienvenida.”

The metal door crashed into the threshold behind her, the echoes reverberating, she felt, for eternity. There was nothing beyond these metal walls anymore, the whole world went silent. The wrath that burned in her eyes met the hatred that dripped out of his. Darkness met darkness; loathing encircled within their dark glares like an ouroboros, its dark scales flashing where the light hit it. Valeria and Alejandro were a perfect mirror, they were tuned into the same frequency, a frequency of violence. They were built of the same clay; two destroyers meeting at last.

He was right in front of her, waiting. Standing tall and armed to the teeth, Colonel Alejandro Vargas. Her jealous ex-lover, the kidnapper of her wife, the annihilator of peace, the snake that infiltrated the garden. The evil eye incarnate. And here was she, the abandoner, the backstabber; the woman lover.

“Y/N.” Valeria spoke with steel in her voice.

“Is no longer with us, I’m afraid.” The lines of his mouth fell into a pout, feigning sadness. Mocking her. “She’s not a fighter, like you or me. You know what happens to the weak here,” he scoffed. “What was it that you used to say? That the weak exist to serve the strong and die? Yeah,” he said diabolically, a grin etching itself on his face. “That’s what happened.”

She knew he was lying; Y/N walked this earth still. She and her wife’s souls were so intertwined, Valeria would have felt it if her wife was gone. Y/N could never leave without her heart knowing. Valeria would put her hand through fire to prove her conviction.

“If I thought she was dead, I would have shot you on sight,” she said. Her hand gripped a blade tightly, willing herself to stop shaking.

Alejandro laughed. “Oh, I didn’t mean she was dead.” His gloved hands held onto his vest as he looked down at her. “I meant that your wife served me.”

Unable to contain her wrath any longer, Valeria lunged at him with a scream.

tag list: @justmare @silas-222 @m0rganit3 @blarba-girl @sleepiemain @caffeineliker @ashy-kit @00ops1e @lesvii @therapyneeds @lez-zuha @starre-eyes @7smexy7diva @hello-kitty-festival @konigmeu @cassiecasluciluce @gay-ass-country-boy @starwars-theclonewhore @bi-witch-bxtch @somnoslvt @ashthepillow @b3ns0ne  @idiotwrites @danart501 @deakyspuff @mistresssiri @angethehimbosimp

thanks for supporting me!!

[lxnarphase]

do you have any advice for new writers who want to start posting on tumblr?

Oh man, I'm gonna give you a list of things I wish I could've told myself when I first started posting.

Some Basic Tips:

Don't be scared to post! You'll never see growth in your followers, mutuals, and even your writing if you don't post!

Be open to asking others for help or advice if you struggle with writing. I sometimes ask some of my mutuals for help or read fanfiction to see how others write a scene. Then, I take the knowledge and write it in my own way. For example, I do well with writing dialogue but find myself always struggling with how to start the story.

Don't be afraid to post about non-writing things, too! Remember, you deserve to have fun on your account, so post what you want. You aren't a machine. You are a person!

The number of notes you get doesn't determine your worth or skill in writing. In my opinion, Tumblr has shifted a bit, making it harder for smaller writers to get likes, reblogs, or comments on their works.

But at the end of the day, in order to enjoy being a writing blog on Tumblr, you have to enjoy what you are writing and posting. Do not feel like you have to force yourself to write just for the numbers, let it happen naturally. Things will start out slow at first, as all things do, but you'll get to a point where you can barely keep up with things.

Post and Blog Formatting + Style:

Formatting is really important! Break up paragraphs, ask a friend to be a beta reader, and for longer works, go back and proofread if you have the time! It's okay if you have minor mistakes, though. I tend to miss things in my writing, and when I return a week later, I just fix them. No big deal!

Nowadays, aesthetics is HUGE for fanfiction posts and your account. Channel your creativity and style! Make your blog super pretty in your own way! It can be pink and cutesy, black and edgy, simple and clean, or colorful and cluttered! Don't have a blank blog!

PUT YOUR AGE CLEARLY SOMEWHERE! In your bio, pinned post, SOMEWHERE IT IS EASY TO SEE. I have had writing accounts follow me but no age, so I don't feel comfortable engaging with them.

You can take inspiration from other accounts (don't outright copy, though) on how they format their fanfictions. You will probably notice a lot of accounts have headers, dividers, or colored text. You can do that too, as it can catch the readers attention.

I get headers from doujins and mangas I read, websites such as Pinterest are good for cute ones, and Twitter is your go-to for more NSFW headers.

Create a tagging system to make navigating your blog easier, and have a pinned post with links to your rules/byf/masterlist/etc.

Try to put warnings in your writing. A lot of people have filters on to avoid the types of content they don't want to see, but there are the occasional people who don't put warnings in the writing post itself. It could be a simple tag or a list of themes at the beginning of the post.

An example would be a post with the tag #dubcon #tw dubcon OR putting "cw: dubcon" in the post itself before the writing itself.

This is a tag vs. in the actual post

Tagging and Reblogs

Speaking of tags, USE THE TAGGING SYSTEM! If you don't tag your post with popular fanfiction tags, it will be hard for people to find you.

Only the first twenty tags will show up in Tumblr search, including your own blog. Reblogs will not show up in tracked tags or searches.

However, don't feel bad for reblogging your own works again. Do it as many times as you want. You created something and should feel proud of it! I still reblog things from January just because.

Making Mutuals

Don't be afraid to engage with other accounts. That's how you make friends on here! But here's something important:

Be genuine. Make mutuals because you enjoy each other's work, AND both have fun talking with each other! If someone doesn't add you back as a mutual, that is okay; don't feel like they have something against you! Making mutuals shouldn't be your only goal when posting on Tumblr. Otherwise, you might tire yourself out mentally. It took me a while to make mutuals on here, but I'm glad it did it naturally instead of trying to force it.

Asks and Anons

Once you build a following, you will get the most wonderful, loving, and supportive anons in your inbox! Cherish them, respond to them, and have fun with them! Because there is a very high chance, you will also get assholes in your inbox.

I say this from the bottom of my heart but do NOT give hateful people your attention because that is what they thrive on. I still get them, but when I tell you I am at so much peace, I block and delete the messages and carry on.

If a certain message bothers me for a bit, then I just take a little break, talk to some friends about what happened, and do what helps me calm down so I don't act rashly. Don't be afraid to turn off anonymous messages for a while. This is YOUR blog, not theirs.

Don't feel pressured to answer every ask or fulfill every request. Take your time because that can burn you out! I love socializing so much, but sometimes I just pull a blank on how to respond to my asks. I always ensure my mutuals and followers know that I'm not ignoring them and just tend to go blank-brained with some asks, OR I save some of them to look at when I'm sad!

Overall, just start and DO IT FOR YOURSELF.

That's the best advice for when you want to make anything. You just have to start posting and learning and improving as you go on. Hopefully, this will sort of help. I know it's not the best list of advice, but it's just some things I would tell myself back when I first started.

If you have any other questions, I can try my best to answer them!

[amarmeme]

I finally finished the game last night and have a lot of thoughts/feelings left lingering about Lucanis/Rook. I know people have gone on and around on this already, but I am compelled by this fictional mess.

I don't even think we need more from Lucanis, but more from Rook, which is my takeaway from the game as a whole regardless of romance, but I would guess is most highlighted by his romance path in particular.

Spoilers below the cut.

Pretty much anything I have written or will write is going to include some degree of angst. It's my favorite brand of tension.

Case in point: my favorite Austen novel is Persuasion. If that shows anything, it's that I live for inner turmoil, quiet suffering, yearning, unspoken words, and two idiots in love.

I want to get my heart shredded until the love makes it whole. The Lucanis romance has the potential for this in spades, but the execution is just lacking and that's because we never go beyond surface with Rook's thoughts. It feels like this romance is supposed to carry on the backs of the players' imagination, which feels a bit cheap.

I've seen criticism of not enough from Lucanis and also defenses that he's been through A Lot so we shouldn't expect more. I'm actually past that. Yes, more scenes with Lucanis would have been great, but I actually want more scenes from Rook's perspective, even if alone, to fill in the strange gaps.

Before you lock in mechanically, imagine if you will, Rook having a reflective conversation with Varric, or in Varric's mirror. Rook asks if they are imagining a connection, or seeing into things.

What if Rook has a chance to speak with Neve, given she and Lucanis have a clear connection whether they get together or not? Or Harding, one of the other people who appear in Lucanis' mind prison?

I could see this continuing after the romance "locks in" -- companions comment on Lucanis looking happy, them being together, but what about Rook? If they're not ready to comment directly to Lucanis on what this really means to him (since they never kiss, touch, exchange soulful looks, etc.), Rook should be able to ask the companions what they have noticed/what they should do to advance things.

This comes down to my struggle with this game versus past Dragon Age games. It all boils down to the lack of interaction between Rook and others. If Rook could ask their colleagues questions rather than just listening to ambient conversations or helping further their personal quests, it would do so much to make this game as amazing as the past installments.

Rook is so lonely, surrounded by all these people. You have to choose to imagine they are connected and are having these interpersonal conversations about themselves, because they never happen on screen. At least I didn't get any of that in my Shadow Dragon Rook playthrough.

I am completely fine with what feels like one-sided pining, and even angst about what Lucanis actually wants out of Rook, but the game needs some mechanics to put into place to make it feel like Rook isn't just quietly okay with an empty relationship, or expect us to imagine things are happening when the game presents them as very much not.

So much of what is there is perfectly rife for fanfiction, but I expect the logical progression to be clear in the game where it really is just not. I have no idea how Lucanis/Rook get from point A to B to C. It feels like it is missing content, and it could even just be Rook-specific content to smooth it over. As it is now, it feels like an unconvincing story.

Maybe one day I'll play it again as a crow to see if that adds any crumbs, but for now I'm just feeling kinda conflicted for my poor Rook. I love the potential, but am not super pleased with the execution.

[openphrase123]

i just finished this fic! it's good!

and because it's all done i want to like... be a LITTLE self indulgent and talk under the cut about some miscellaneous things that i ran into while writing it. don't click the readmore if you're interested in the fic and haven't read it yet i'm about to spoil the Whole thing.

also there is an epilogue to this fic now - go read that before this post if you're getting to this before the update!!

so!! i haven't written fanfiction in like FIVE YEARS. it's been a while! part of that is because i was doing original stuff and part of it was i was in a creative slump. so isat kind of dug me out of that and i owe it my thanks. i've been able to do a crazy amount of original work since starting this fic, it's brought back my creative discipline. in like seven years when my video game comes out you can thank isat for that probably

i originally set out thinking this was the only fic for isat i was going to write. and then as i was writing this i fell deeper into it. i kind of got out of isat a little disappointed in how it ended?? but now that i'm here i'm like ah it's fine. just cause i would have done something different in dev's position doesn't mean it's bad. it does mean i can write a bunch of fanfiction exploring things i wish had been tackled more in the game though LOL

i said this in one of the chapter authors notes but i DID start out curtain call hating loop with every fiber of my being. (as in i liked them as a character UNTIL the act 6 reveal which i thought was lame) and then i played through the game a second time knowing the loop twist and went "oh nvm this makes sense" so a lot of the loop stuff in this fic was actually written twice. originally i was just gonna have them soulmerge with siffrin and not be present at all but then i was like. no. i do want to keep this lighthearted and that's too depressing of an end for loop. i do have a loop postcanon doc so i'll go repay them for their slapdashed involvement in curtain call someday

i'm in a weird position with curtain call in that i wrote the themes and major conflicts Directly After playing through isat the first time. before i could really marinate and analyze the characters fully. so there are a lot of scenes and points where i think i wouldn't characterize certain people like that if i were to rewrite this from scratch? however i don't disagree with what i've written either - it's just an interpretation that i don't necessarily think is my favorite anymore.

neither is any of the worldbuilding i did for any of this - it works for curtain call and i think it was nice but i don't necessarily think it's my current interpretation of what the culture and people were like? i like the wishes being permanent thing, i like the language stuff, but i'd probably go in a different direction if i went through this again

i do actually still think "the forgotten island was destroyed by a volcano" is my solid headcanon explanation of what happened to it. in my heart. i think like - with siffrin as a character especially it's very important that he's always missing something, that it's not idyllically happy for them at the end of everything. so even if he can remember more from their own past, it's - you know - there's no way to go back. only forward.

in the vein of this i probably could have killed siffrin/loop's entire childhood family but i did not. mostly because i did think it was fun for him to have to explain all of those cultural taboos they broke to survive. which, of course, was not a big deal - any good parent would rather their kid be alive than lawful - but what is isat other than a vehicle to make siffrin work through every moral compulsion and spiral they experience

i had a thought halfway through writing the fic that i was stepping on the very good and beautiful odile friendquest by making the island real and having a lot of siffrin's personality dictate how it went. but i ultimately decided on keeping siffrin very close to their country, more than odile is to vaugarde, because siffrin actually DID live on the island when he was a kid and that i think is a Different type of "longing for your country" trauma than odile's. i think they can still drink over the feelings together though

writing bonnie is very fun but very emotional for me. the bonnie&siffrin age gap (preteen to late-20s) is the exact age gap between me and my niece so every time i need to sit down and write something for them i think about her and how much she's a little baby growing up. this has nothing to do with bonnie it just makes writing bonnie really hard for me

if the entire history of my ao3 account was not an indicator, i'm a very big fan of writing romance, but i did not want it to take over curtain call at all. i also could have left out sloopis entirely and almost did, but thought "you know. with the way loop functions in this fic. i should at least let that be open ended" cause sharing a body with a version of you who is dating some other guy is gonna get messy no matter what. it's just not necessarily something i had time to or the urge to explore here. think of it as a fun spiritual nod to the fact that isafrin is technically open ended in isat (<- cop out answer)

i think i'm pretty vocal in how much i am absolutely insane for the flashback "happiest i can remember being" conversation. who let them do that. i think a lot of how i worked with mirabelle and siffrin's relationship in this fic kind of revolved around that. important to me that it ends with mira checking in on him and getting the answer she was looking for all along <3

overall i'm happy with curtain call. glad i am done with it though. there's so much that's running in with it at once. i'll probably wait a month and reread the whole thing to myself front to back before i start having fond memories of this. i mean it's always gonna be the fic my nephew was born during and i'll always remember having a panic attack in the airport right after posting chapter 7 but it's gonna be weird letting this one sail off into the ocean of the internet. however feel free to ask anything about the fic, i wrote this in a lil hurry on a bad day and probably didn't cover everything

goodbye, curtain call!! i love you!!!!! i'll miss you!!!!

[looks both ways, waiting for most people to leave]

also. if you've read this far. i hope it's not too gauche of me to link my personal project. if you've read over 100k words of this you might enjoy the game i'm developing? i've been working on it for almost a year but i just started the devlog last month. it's still in early baby stages as far as a full video game goes but if you liked this you'll like the game when it comes out (similar nickname culture, timeloop trauma, petty interpersonal drama, very stupid jokes, natural disaster angst)

also there isn't a lot on the devblog yet, i've mostly been doing programming on it, i JUST started visdev i'm sorry if it's uglyyyyy (FOR NOW)

anyway i'm trusting you with that link. i'm going to use my professional name on that project when it airs don't cross the wires pretty please just pretend that's a butch-y cis woman's game <3 guard the closet door babeyyyyy

[revelboo]

Rambles/ clarification of my nonsense

• I just wanted to go ahead and clarify something before you guys make the connection between the TF One Megatron fic and the latest Thundercracker bit and start asking. First off, I have a fated mate series I write. I do love that trope, but I have an issue with how it’s handled sometimes so I will gently poke fun at it from time to time.

• I don’t like the insta-love eyes meeting across a room and falling hopelessly in love that some novels incorporate. I prefer love/affection to be earned over time through actions. Insta-love always comes across to me as losing a piece of yourself to another person, losing free will. Instant attraction or lust? I can work with that, tie it to a sense of belonging that keeps dragging you into that person’s gravity whether you want to be there or not. Just because it’s fated doesn’t mean it’s perfect or easy. I want the characters to clash, to fight that sense of need and maybe even resent that bond at first. Slowly building up trust and getting to know each other.

• If I write more TF One characters, I’ll probably use fated mates in that universe because I’m a gremlin and I like writing conflict. I wouldn’t mind writing that version of Starscream, B127, or Optimus Prime at some point.

• This blog started as a venting space. I needed to work on manuscripts, but I was so burnt out and my usual tactic of just swapping to a different project wasn’t working. I’d open the documents and just stare at the screen in dread. So, I wrote a silly little Starscream snippet, because I used to write fanfiction on FFN years ago under a different handle. And I missed writing silly, self indulgent nonsense that didn’t have to be perfect. The quick bullet point snippets I do are actually how I quickly get scenes down to expand later.

• I only meant to make a few characters and scenarios and then go back and start fleshing them out like a properly formatted story. Then you guys started asking questions, asking about different characters. So I just kept going, because I honestly missed writing for fun, for myself. Nothing serious, just telling a story to amuse myself. I needed an outlet for the stress and this is it.

• So, thank you guys so much. I’ll keep these going as long as folks want to read them, because I really did miss the Transformers community. There’s a sense that when you swap to professionally writing, you’re not supposed to keep doing the fanfiction stuff. You’re supposed to grow up and just write novels, nothing else. And that’s why I stopped ten years ago, but this makes me happy. I can do both and it’s not like I follow normal writing rules anyway. I’ve been told my writing can be too visceral, too much like a stream of consciousness instead of a literary work. That used to bother me, but that ship’s not only sailed, it caught on fire and sank with no survivors. Never been great at following rules anyway.

• And maybe someone else needs to hear that. You don’t have to stop what you enjoy because it’s ’unprofessional.’ Keep it separate, but keep doing it if it makes you happy. It shouldn’t be a trade off.

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7

Azriel x Reader Fic

WARNING:

I wanted to give you a heads-up that the following portion of this fic contains mentions of rape. While it does not go into graphic detail or describe the actual event, it does acknowledge that it is happening, focusing more on the feelings of the character. There is also a short secondary scene involving an attempted rape, but again, it is not described in detail and the scene ends before the assault can take place.

Please read at your own comfort level. If this content makes you feel uncomfortable, that's completely okay. I see you, I hear you, and I deeply appreciate you taking care of yourself. To ensure you don't miss any plot points, I will provide a brief summary in a follow-up post available at this same time. It will not mention the assault. You can look for it under "Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7, Summary".

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of rape, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's Note:

This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Throughout the rest of the day, you continued to watch the soldiers below, noting the times when the camp seemed quiet and when it was bustling with hundreds of males. An uneasy feeling gripped your shoulders as you felt trapped, reminiscent of being confined in your cabin in the mountains. You were unsure of Azriel's true intentions, despite his kindness, and you didn't want to wait around to find out. You decided you would leave tonight.

You took one of the pillows out of its linen lining, stuffing the naked pillow under the bed before placing your stored food and small collection of knives into the pillowcase and pushing that under the bed as well. You took the ribbon that Anthea had used to tie back your hair and looped it over a few times, securing the hunting knife Azriel had given you in the inner lining of your pants where it couldn't be seen. The only thing that gave you pause was your lack of shoes. Azriel had taken your shoes when you were brought here, and while you wanted them back, asking for them would raise suspicions. Your feet would have to endure the cold. You also gathered a few candle sticks and empty bottles from around the room, intending to use them for collecting water. 

When Anthea brought your dinner, a simple stew, you made an effort to eat every bite, savoring the warmth and preparing yourself for the uncertainty ahead. As she left, a sense of guilt washed over you—escaping a place where she clearly couldn't, if you could escape at all. The fear of continued confinement overwhelmed your fear of being caught. You half thought of bringing her with you, but her uneasy demeanor and the length of time she had been here made you question her ability to survive outside. If you could, you would someday return for her.

You perched by the window, watching as Azriel left for the evening. He didn't come to see you for the rest of the day, which was fine by you. When he was far enough away, you slid from your perch, grabbed the pillowcase of supplies from under the bed. You eyed the swords and axes, but when you went to pick one up, the heft of it caused your side to scream at you, and you decided it would slow you down too much to travel with it. You slipped out the door, ignoring the groaning protest from your aching side.

You found yourself in a small hallway, your room at the end. You made your way down towards the light radiating from below, the cold hardwood floor squeaking beneath your feet. Two other rooms were on this level, each with identical dark wooden doors. At the end, you descended the narrow stairwell to the lower level of the house. At the base was a modest living room with a large mantle, a red sofa, a dining room table with two chairs, and a meager-looking kitchen. Your heart raced too fast to take in much of your surroundings. Behind the stairs was a door that seemed to lead out the back—a welcome relief from having to walk out the front door. You pressed the door open and were immediately met with the smell of wet earth and excrement. Your lips curled in disgust as you pressed your sleeved arm to your nose and walked out, the mud squelching beneath your feet and oozing between your toes. You clambered up the hill, the fires being lit for the evening illuminating your path. Once you hit the treeline, you felt a renewed sense of peace as you continued forward, bumbling in the dark. 

Patrols would be in these woods, you were sure of that, and the best you could do was remain as silent as possible. You continued onward, occasionally freezing at the sound of a shifting branch but otherwise mostly alone. The cold mud made your legs shiver, and goosebumps erupted over your body. You silently wished you had brought one of those furs with you.

You must have only been fifteen minutes away from the camp when you heard what sounded like quiet sobs, followed by male grunting. Your heart stopped in your chest as you listened, the sobs sounding inherently female while the male groaned and moaned. As you walked closer, the sobs became clearer, and the male grunting louder. You realized the female was Anthea, from the small squeaks she let out.

You stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing the sounds of the crying. Your mind raced as you considered your options. There was no way this was of her own accord. Knowing what you did about Illyrian males and the way females shrank around them, you knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened to Anthea. Steeling yourself, you moved closer to the sounds, the light of a single lantern shining in the distance. As the sounds grew louder, the bile in your throat rose as you heard the male, between his animalistic grunts and groans, praising his victim. You had been in her place before. You had felt what she was feeling, and the anger that grew in you bloomed into a red-hot fire. 

You pulled the knife from your pants lining, gripping the handle hard within your fist, dropping the pillowcase behind you, long forgotten as you started to see red. Swallowing the rock in your throat, you moved towards the light and, without thinking, hurled yourself forward.

Your blade slashed through the wings of the male, and he howled, throwing you off him. His pants were still around his ankles as he turned to face you, breathing ragged. His face. Suddenly it all came back: the three Illyrian men, the tree, the storm. Darian.

Anthea slunk away, pressing herself against a tree, tears streaming down her scarred face.

“You,” the male hissed. “I thought you fucking died.”

You said nothing, holding the now-bloody knife as you struggled to your feet.

Darian pulled his trousers back up, tying them in place while licking his lips hungrily. “You’re going to wish you had died when I’m done with you.”

You pushed yourself upright. Though smaller than the others, he still towered over you, his wings flared out in anger, red blood streaming from the gash you had cut. He drew a long serrated hunting knife from his side, flipping it in his hand with ease, as if to show you the weapon he intended to gut you with. You swallowed any notion of fear and steadied yourself, crouching slightly to stabilize your body. The male smirked at your attempt. “Little kitty wants to play?” he laughed, crouching lower as well.

Without a sound, you launched yourself forward, your shoulder connecting with his upper chest, pushing him back slightly. Seemingly taken aback by your strength, the male stumbled and then laughed. “Strong one,” he hissed. “I like fighters, unlike that one over there.” He gestured to Anthea. “She stopped fighting a long time ago.”

His comment sent a new wave of rage through you. You yelled gutturally, slashing forward in a few long strides, but the male sidestepped immediately. When he was next to you, he wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you tight against him. His scent turned your stomach as he leaned in close, sending his tongue up the side of your face. “Delicious,” he purred as you desperately reached to loosen his grip.

He lifted you from the ground, his continuous pressure on your neck closing your windpipe. The familiar white lining of blacking out began to creep into your vision. You gasped, your nails digging into his hardened skin as he gripped places on your body that recoiled from his touch. He laughed into your ear, breathing you in.

In a moment of panic, you clawed wildly at his face, successfully scratching a long, bloody line down his cheek and through his eye. The male yelled in pain, loosening his grip enough for you to fall to your knees, choking on the air that filled your lungs. “You bitch!” he screamed, covering his eye as he picked up his knife and stabbed it down towards you. You rolled out of the way quickly, the knife digging into the forest floor.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you stood and looked over at Anthea, who sat frozen against the tree. You stumbled over to her, croaking out, “Come on!” But Anthea merely looked at you, her eyes glazed over the same way they were when Azriel touched her, the same way you knew you looked when your mate had done this to you over and over again. “Anthea, we have to go. Now!” you urged, but she didn’t move.

Darian got to his feet, turning towards you, rage embodied. You glanced back at the trembling, half-clothed Anthea, but before you could say anything, your feet were carrying you deeper into the forest. The male came barreling after you, howling insults and threats. Your throat raw from where he had choked you, hot tears poured down your face as you ran into the midnight black. But the male was faster and more calculating. Before you made it far, he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the ground. The air was knocked from your lungs as you cried out.

Darian, bleeding from his cheek, laughed. “Thought you could get away?” he taunted.

He straddled you, his hulking body pressing into your midsection as he fumbled with his pants. Even in the night, you heard the sound of rope untying. You screamed, blood-curdling, begging him to stop. Your hands flew up, only for him to grab your wrists, his hands caked in blood as he tried to work your pants down. You kept screaming, begging for anything, anyone. The male laughed into your face. 

Just when you thought it was all going to begin, the beginning of your end, the male screamed and lurched backward. Behind him stood Anthea, holding your knife, lodged in Darian's back. Her eyes were still glazed over. In an instant, he turned around, tackling Anthea, pulling his own knife from his holster and plunging it repeatedly into her neck and chest, howling curses at her.

You lay on the forest floor, unable to stop what was happening as Anthea was almost dead upon impact. You let out a hollow shriek, screaming for him to stop hurting her.

“Y/N!” someone called out, followed by the crashing of woodland underbrush breaking around whoever was running. You were still screaming as Azriel cleared the last fallen log and took in the sight. The male, so enraged, didn’t even turn to see Azriel. Azriel ran to you, wrapping you in his arms, and then a whoosh of cold wind carried you away from the forest.

Author's Note:

Due to the sensitive content in this chapter, I have chosen not to tag anyone. Those who requested tags will be tagged in the summary chapter instead.

I understand that rape and sexual assault are deeply troubling and painful topics in our society. I wrestled with the ethics of writing about these themes and considered whether this addition would move the story forward or if it would be better left out. I am aware that some depictions in novels and fanfictions can be harmful, as they may glorify or misuse these themes. That is not my intention at all.

My writing often reflects my journey toward healing and understanding myself in more complex and holistic ways. While I recognize that such writings don't always need to be shared, my connection to these characters, their pasts, and their traumas compelled me to include this subject matter. I frequently ask myself if scenes involving power and control over another character can be portrayed without depicting non-consent or sexual assault. If possible, I avoid these topics altogether. However, I chose to include this scene because of the ongoing systemic oppression of women in these novels, particularly Illyrian women. I aim to do justice to these characters and highlight the complex systems of oppression both in fiction and in our world.

I am still learning how to share my art with others, and my art includes a part of myself. I hope you understand that my intentions are not to use these themes as mere plot devices or for shock value, but rather to serve a greater purpose.

Please take care of yourself and make choices that honor your well-being. Know that you are loved, cared for, and valuable.

Thank you for allowing me to explore this topic. I'll see you in the next part.

[thekirammanjinx]

I think there are some people that are overly self righteous when it comes to Arcane in particular, it’s like they have missed the entire point of the show. It’s tiring and disappointing. And it’s so much worse when a sapphic couple is involved.

Like when it comes to CaitVi, people are so critical and striving for an impossible “perfection”. I always see antis being like “well Cait is a cop! I can never support it”, “the jail scene was so icky”, “Cait should have apologized this way.” We give so many passes to heterosexual couples and m/m ships than f/f ships. People really need to pay attention to the context of the show , especially when it comes to subtle details in animation. Also like you said, relationships can be messy and unhealthy at times but that doesn’t define it for the long term. They made that clear about Caitlyn and Vi tbh.

Sorry for the long one but I’m just tired of the constant negativity

Truly people are so self righteous and pretentious. Like no you're not morally better than anyone because you don't like the fictional "cop ship"(as if a million of these dont exist for m/f). People truly did miss the point of the narrative and Cait's role in being an enforcer. A character can be a cop without the show being copaganda.(this got long thank you for the ask)

But if these people lack so much cognitive thinking that every show that involves a cop is copaganda then maybe there is no hope. Truly missing the entire narrative. A story is being told, how about stop thinking you're better than people because you think you're above it all and start actually viewing the media in front of you??

The standards that people put on f/f relationships gets so exhausting. Just because the show didn't unravel in the way they would want in some fanfiction then they deem it bad or unsatisfactory. Or suddenly the character is ooc. Actually I don't think alot of these people know the characters. They've just created a version of these characters in their own head.

Fandom has gotten into the habit of labeling everything "toxic". Like no it's not toxic. They handled real emotions poorly. They made bad decisions in the face of battling said emotions. No Cait/Vi isn't toxic or abusive. People who say they are an example of domestic violence... please for the love look up and learn what domestic violence is.

A moment of physical assault does not necessarily equate to abusive. The two can be mutually exclusive. Please read the narrative in front of you.

I don't know what moral grand standing people think they're achieving but I promise the only thing they'll be achieving is continuing to reduce the f/f representation we get on screen. Why do m/f relationships get to be bumpy and have their ups and downs but f/f have to check off every perfectionist and purist box.

Let f/f be complex. Let f/f relationships that exist in complex universes be complex. Let there be moments that they regret because they lashed out because of their emotions. Let female characters be well rounded.

Speaking of details of animation. This show is so richly crafted, there's so much put into the facial expressions and posture and everything. This is visual media people. Please learn to take in the full picture this is not an audio book or podcast. Watch with your eyes please.

Speaking of giving m/f a pass, i love timebomb but nobody says they're toxic or talks about how jinx was terrible to ekko and the firelights. They got one au episode and suddenly forget all that happened before then? Nobody is begging for an apology there. Nobody is talking about how jinx could've killed them both on the bridge. Or how they had little interaction outside of those scenes if any.

Caitvi is deemed rushed or unsatisfying but they had to pull in an au episode/timeline for ekko to reach out to jinx. People say Vi only arc is in Caitlyn(guess we forgot about vander and jinx--again over simplifying a character story just because it's not what they wanted to see), but what was ekko arc at the end?

I'd be fine if people were giving the same energy across the board but no. Once again we are here watching people tear down a f/f ship.

"We deserve better" bitch China won't even let the girls talk to each other on screen and rest their head on each other's shoulders. Get a grip.

[iz1331]

Gonna have to rewatch Beetlejuice and Beetlejuice Beetlejuice back to back to compose a list of "movie canon" that were deemed not brought back/continued in the sequel.

For example: Like how the sequel "disregarded" the fact that only those who "died of suicide can become civil servants in the afterlife".

NO ONE CONFIRMED THAT! It was just a throw away line by Otho, WHO WAS A FRAUD AND KNEW LITTLE TO NONE OF THE SUPERNATURAL!

The sequel even subtly corrected that misconception. Not everyone in the Civil Service in the Afterlife died of suicide, several were wrongly assigned that cause of death.

Miss Argentina was the only significant character that had an accident in Beetlejuice that we've seen who works as a civil servant. And maybe the flattened guy, but not sure if that was an accident or not. He looked quite jovial for a flattened guy.

Case in point: we have Wolf Jackson, and he certainly didn't die of suicide, yet he works as a self-proclaimed cop and runs the whole police joint there.

The earlier scrapped concept of Betelgeuse hanging himself was just that. An idea/concept of how he died. They never used that in the film, thus it's not canon. It's considered fanon in the fandom cause it's been more than 30 years of no solid confirmation of a sequel and we were hungry for any scrap of Beetlejuice material that we can consume and use as inspiration for art and stories to feed ourselves over the years until news of Beetlejuice Beetlejuice was announced and got released.

The sequel answered some questions and gave us new content to work with. For both the characters and about the Netherworld/Afterlife in the Beetlejuice universe.

I'm all for creative liberty and freedom, make a canon divergent or write an Alternative Universe of it all, but don't just shit on the sequel and say that it's an "elaborate fanfiction" like the screenplay writers didn't put a lot of thought in it that even Tim Burton, Michael Keaton, Winona Ryder, and Catherine O'Hara finally, after DECADES of turning down script after script, found THIS story for the sequel to have the most potential and having the right tone as a follow up for the movie that meant so much to all of them.

Everyone who worked behind the scenes in creating the film from props, set location and design, puppetry, stop-motion, costume, stunt people, make-up, lights, sound, extras, production, marketing, EVERYONE put a lot of effort and passion and did AMAZING work on this project. I'm still amazed by every large and miniscule details I discover every time I rewatch it.

Was the story of the legacy sequel perfect?

Of course not.

No sequel ever is. Someone will always find something to complain about and that's just how things work in this industry, in this world.

But, was it fun? Was it both new, and brought the same feel from the original? Did the actors brought to life the characters we've loved for more than three decades and counting? Did it introduce new characters that fit the ensemble and had the same eccentric aura of the Beetlejuice world? Was it a relief that the story didn't just end 30 years ago?

Yes, it did. For me. I loved it. It's not perfect, but for someone like me who's a bit of a perfectionist on my works, and then finding the imperfections actually making the finished product better than I expected, it means a lot.

And for what it's worth, at least the time and love and the littlest of delusion I invested for Beetlebabes actually had something to show for. A one-sided romance it may be, at least I now know that Betelgeuse isn't harboring any lasting ill will towards Lydia for all these years.

That Tim also saw it that way. That Michael and Winona were open to this dynamic and relationship between the two characters/roles that they love and cherished to play.

Also, people change. No one stays the same. Life throws curve balls at us, and yes, to FICTIONAL characters as well. People mellow with age. One person or experience can change someone, even when they've been dead for 600 years.