#but the ending still... holds my heart hostage in some way

[noctiispiri]

The best feeling I experienced this week was, after watching Marble Hornets with a friend who's never seen it before, seeing their reactions as I say "and that's the end."

And then completely throwing it out the window and watching thac videos with them to cope with the ending

[rafey-baby]

hidden

outlaw!rafe holding pogue!reader hostage in her own house after banging his fist on her door in the middle of a stormy night, demanding to be let in with a gun in hand and wild waves in the sea of his eyes…

cw: outlaw!rafe being mean and manipulative, mentions of murder, violence & other dark themes, he’s also weirdly soft in the end?

wc: 2k

he's been stuck in my head for a while so hope u enjoy xx

part 2 part 3 part 4 part 5

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

There’s still sleep dust lingering in her lashes when she hesitantly cracks open the oak door at 3am, revealing a tall, scary man with scarlet stains on his big hands, white button up saturated in maroon and a scowl painted over his unsettling countenance.  

She stands there like a deer in headlights, unmoving as he stares down at her with arctic eyes as chilling as the frigid waters surrounding an iceberg.  

At first, she thinks she’s still asleep, tired brain conjuring up some creepy murderer scenario where she’s the idiot who does everything the audience in the movie theater is screaming at her not to. But as she properly blinks her sleepy eyes open, she comes to the realization that this is not a horror film and this intimidating stranger (with oddly appealing features) who’s definitely just killed someone is very much real.  

She’s about to open her mouth and she’s not sure whether she was going to scream for help or simply stare at him with her mouth hung open in shock but she doesn’t get the chance to find out before he’s pasting a massive palm over her mouth.  

“Don’t make a sound,” his low mutter makes a shiver run down her spine. 

And she doesn’t, instead she just blinks, too out of it to even move a muscle; the reek of the dried blood on his hand hitting her nose, making her face scrunch up. And she doesn’t know why she’s not putting up any sort of a fight, blaming it on the fact that half of her brain is still swimming in the lake of her dreamland; soaking up the glittering sunbeams that never dull and dipping its toes in the grass that consists of misty nebula and twinkling stars. 

And he’s just so mean, ordering her around with a gun to her head, manhandling her around to his liking, grumbling about needing to stay at her house for a bit since he needs a hiding place from the cops after dumping a body somewhere in the ocean and getting caught. Apparently, his temper really just got the best of him at times.  

“I didn’t even mean to kill the guy, alright. He just kept pissing me off on purpose and I was provoked, what was I supposed to do?” He offers as an explanation that seems to do very little to soothe her overstrung heart that’s thudding in her ribcage. It’s loud enough for him to hear; almost as if she’s a terrified rabbit and he’s a big bad wolf, hunting down his prey.  

“I’m taking a shower now, and you’re not gonna move an inch, you understand? Cause if you do, I’m gonna have to hurt you, and I really don’t wanna do that, okay?” 

She nods her head, unable to form any coherent sentences. 

He takes note of the way her inhale gets caught in her throat when he steps closer to her, inquiring whether she lives alone or not, to which she just nods her head again.  

“Dumb girl”, he tuts, shaking his head in disapproval. “When someone’s knocking on your door in the middle of the night you don’t fucking open, alright?”  

She’s making it entirely too easy for him.  

The second he’s in her bathroom, she forces her exhausted brain to think; quickly coming up with a rickety plan as she listens to the water streaming down from behind the door. She waits for a moment, making sure the coast is clear before she bolts towards her bedroom, trembling fingers grabbing her phone from her nightstand and trying to dial 911.  

However, her shaky hands don’t help her one bit when they drop the phone; the clattering sound of it hitting the floor echoing in the quietness of the room.  

She can’t breathe, her brain short-circuits as she bends down, reaching for the wretched device that has somehow tumbled under her bed. However, when she finally catches it in an unsteady grip, she hears the shower turn off; an eerie stillness following. In her state of panic, she fruitlessly tries to turn it back on and call for help but it’s proving to be harder than she thought when her lungs decide to stop working, her respiration shallow and her heartbeat ringing in her ears.  

“Boo,” a low whisper right behind her makes her blood run cold; a shiver traveling down her spine as she slightly jumps, a faint gasp leaving her.  

“Why did you just do that, huh? Told you, didn’t wanna fucking hurt you and then you go and pull this shit,” a strong hand is gripping her by her throat as he turns her around to face him.  

“I’m sorry, I...I don’t—” she’s paralyzed, unable to move.  

“You don’t what, huh?” He stares into her horror-stricken eyes with an almost bored look, seemingly entirely indifferent to her torment.  

“Can’t…can’t breathe,” her voice is nearly inaudible, making a grim chuckle bubble out of his chest.  

“Can’t breathe? Maybe you should’ve thought about that before, yeah?” He scoffs, cruel words mocking her.  

“You’re so fucking stupid, want me to kill you, is that what you want?” He grits out as he squeezes at her neck, making her feel dizzy; gasping for air.  

“No! No, please. I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Won’t— won’t do it again, promise, I’ll do anything—” she manages to force out as he’s nearly crushing her windpipe in his unrelenting grip.  

“Anything, huh? That’s real tempting and all but what I need you to do is not pull stupid shit like this, you understand?”  

“I won’t, I promise. You can...stay here for as long as you want and I’ll help, okay?” she thinks she’s gonna pass out soon, stars peppering behind her fluttering lids and her weakened limbs starting to feel heavy. His coarse panting fills her eardrums as he seems to contemplate her offer for a moment.  

“If you even think about running to the cops tonight, I’m gonna fucking find you, you understand?” 

She’s frantically nodding her head and at last, his hold begins to loosen around her trachea, allowing for her greedy lungs to finally suck in air as she takes a step back, trying to even out her respiration.  

He doesn’t say anything, silently observing her as she clears her throat, swallowing a few times as she tries to pacify her racing heart and calm the thoughts running around her head; trying to reassure herself that she’s still alive and she will stay that way if she just doesn’t rile him up anymore.  

He notices how her rounded eyes look up at him as he stands before her, smelling like her honey-scented body wash and orange blossom shampoo, nothing but a towel hanging low on his hips, leaving very little to her imagination as the room grows quiet.  

“What’s— um…what’s your name?” Her voice is creaky when she tries a different approach once she feels the flat floorboards under her wobbly feet again, a nervous hesitation overlaying her precarious question.  

“Don’t worry about it,” he simply dismisses her, but a small pout molds her mouth as she stares at him and he lets out a discontented sigh, rolling his eyes.  

“Rafe,” he finally responds, not bothering to ask for hers, seemingly not caring enough for it. She tells him, nonetheless and he laughs at her priorities. A literal criminal has broken into her home and she cares about fucking introductions.  

“So…have you— have you killed anyone else?” She doesn’t know why she’s trying to make small talk with him but she supposes if she gets him to talk about something, choking her to death won’t be at the forefront of his mind anymore.  

“You seriously wanna know?” He raises his brows. 

She thinks about it for a moment and then settles on shaking her head, followed by a harsh chuckle rumbling out from his sturdy chest.  

“So, uh— what is it that you do? Like besides…killing people and stuff?” She tries once more.  

“Look, the less you know, the better, alright?” He simply states, making her let out a soft sigh in defeat.  

All of a sudden, a vigorous thunder crackles behind her windows, an ablaze lightning illuminating her dimly lit bedroom soon after.  

She flinches at the sound and the sinister way it momentarily lights up his face.  

“You scared of a little storm?” He feigns concern as he peers down at her.  

“N— no,” she lies, forcing her face to stay neutral, hesitant about him finding out her weaknesses.  

“Don’t worry. I’ll keep you safe, yeah?” The mocking grin on his face causes a shudder to travel through her as she swallows, wishing this was all just a nightmare she could wake up from.  

- - - - - - - - - - - - 

After that little incident, he thinks that she’s just as sweet as sugar, offering to make him tea and asking if he wants a blanket or an extra pillow so he’d be more comfortable sleeping on the couch.  

He can tell that she’s merely doing it because she’s terrified of him, which she should be. Nonetheless, he thinks it feels nice to be pampered, doted on; to have a pretty girl following his orders like a trained puppy. Makes him figure he's gonna enjoy his stay just fine.  

The following morning though, he’s woken up by her shaky figure standing next to his own tired form, pointing his gun at him.  

His softened bones feel mellow from the sleep and he lets out a sigh, rubbing at his sleepy eyes and shifts to sit on the couch cushions; teasingly lifting his hands up in surrender. 

“Puppy’s got a gun, huh? Trying to be all tough now, are we?” There’s a lazy smile on his face.  

“I— I want you to…leave,” she says, voice rickety and words unsure.  

And he’s trying to take her serious, he really is, but it’s proving to be a little difficult since she resembles a scared little kitten more than someone who knows what they’re doing.  

“You want me to leave? Maybe you should work on your pitch, I’m not very convinced, you know?” The exasperating smirk plastered on his face makes her brows crease.  

“Rafe, this is not a joke,” a scowl shades her face and he thinks she looks rather adorable.  

“Come on, Puppy. You’re not gonna shoot me. You don’t even know how to use that thing, do you?” His voice is even; she hesitates. 

“Well, it can’t be that…complicated?” It’s more of a question than a statement and he really can’t keep the chuckle from bubbling out of his throat. Her frown deepens.  

“Why don’t you give it to me, yeah? You don’t want death on your conscience. Would break you, you’re too soft for that shit.”  

“You don’t— know me.” 

“I know you enough,” he says, finally standing on his feet. He takes a slow step towards her and she squeezes the gun tighter in her trembling fingers.  

“If I give it to you, you’re gonna— you’re gonna…kill me. I don’t wanna die,” her words are hysterical, rushed.  

“Now who said anything about killing you? Look, if you give me the gun right now, I’m not gonna do anything. I give you my word, alright?” He’s towering over her, solid chest nearly grazing the barrel.  

“I don’t trust you,” her voice is a whisper.  

“I know, Pup. But I also know that you’re not gonna use that,” his steady hands are a contrast to her own precarious ones when he grabs for the firearm, slipping it from her weak fingers with ease.  

“There we go, no need to be so fucking theatrical, yeah?” He lowers his head in order to lock his eyes with her frenzied ones.  

“See? Not hurting you, am I?”  

She manages out a hum of agreement and then her waterline is brimming with water, salty droplets trickling down her cheeks as she chokes out a sob. “I’m sorry. I don’t—”  

“Hey, hey it’s all good. Mistakes happen, yeah?” He says and then his strong arms are wrapping around her trembling form because he’s not a complete monster and for some reason that makes her weep harder.  

Her crocodile tears wet his shirt but he doesn’t seem to mind, big paw rubbing against her back. And it’s almost…comforting, she thinks as he starts to sway her from side to side, like he’s trying to calm down a crying child.  

“There you go, just let it all out and maybe you can chill out a bit, yeah? You Pogues can be so fucking dramatic sometimes,” he pats at her back, rolling his eyes as she takes in shaky inhale after shaky inhale until she’s feeling slightly more placid.  

“Shit, if I’d known you were such a crybaby I would’ve picked another house,” he grumbles, pulling away from her weakened form, pushing her back to stumble on her feet; setting the gun back on the coffee table with a clank. 

[skzdarlings]

lady-like ; skz ; chan x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: ❛ i'd say you need someone to put you in your place. ❜ W CHAN I BEG OF YOU + original ask: requested by anonymous: “You want gentle? Wrong fucking address”+ Chan <3

pairing: bang chan/reader content info: enemies to lovers, established lovers. criminal!chan, masked!chan. dom!chan, sub!reader (background mentions of switching). choking, floor sex, rough sex, dirty talk. brief mention of some sexism in the workplace. word count: 2050 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy!

-

It is the middle of the night and you are patrolling the art gallery yourself.  You do not trust your colleagues or the security team tonight.  No one believes there is any way to track the SKZ gang but you have found an undoubted pattern.  That motley band of thieves have struck this gallery more than once, making off with paintings and artifacts alike, but tonight you will catch them.

Tonight you will catch him.   

Your thought conjures him like a devil.  You turn a corner and a gloved hand escapes the shadows, covering your mouth.  You are yanked backwards, right into his chest, your back to his front. 

You feel a moment of satisfaction because ha, you were right.  No one believed you but you knew SKZ would strike tonight. 

Then you are furious because those rotten thugs are probably making off with a priceless artifact while their leader holds you hostage. 

“Hey there,” Bang Chan says in that too-friendly drawl.  “How’s my favourite girl tonight?”

You try biting his hand but the leather of his glove is quite thick.  Probably on purpose.  You have left more than one bite mark on him in past encounters.   

“Ah-nah-nah,” he says, steadying you when you wriggle. “Stop that.  We both know how this ends.  Let’s play nice this time instead, yeah?” 

You answer by stomping on his foot and throwing your head back.  The smack surprises him and he stumbles, giving you an opportunity to turn and brace yourself in a more defensible stance.  You face him, hands up, adrenaline thundering through your body. 

Chan is wearing all black, including a beanie and mask.  He removes the hat, revealing hair just as black, but keeps the mask while rubbing his jaw.  The half-hidden face somehow makes the dark intensity of his eyes look even more severe. 

You and Chan have a played a long game of cat-and-mouse.  You are so used to his teasing that you almost forget he is dangerously competent man.  A criminal.  A criminal you despise.   A criminal who is undoubtedly grinning at you under that mask, given the way his eyes crinkle with mirth.  It should not make your heart race. 

“Ouch,” he says.  He takes a step towards you, inching out of the shadows.  “You’ve been training.  Impressive.” 

“Not like I had a choice,” you snap. “Some no good criminal keeps attacking my art gallery.” 

“Criminal, yeah,” Chan says.  “But no good?  Really?”  He flicks a hand your way, not so much striking as testing your reflexes.  You bat it successfully and his eyebrows lift, showing he is moderately impressed.  

“You’re a dirty thief,” you say, taking a swing of your own.  Yours is much more deliberate, swinging at his head, but he dodges just as easily. 

You scamper backwards, his booted steps following swiftly.  You keep your hands up in defense.  He is still smirking under that mask. 

“Thief, yeah,” he continues to tease.  “But dirty?  Well… I suppose you’d know…” 

Heat pulses under your skin. 

This cat-and-mouse game has crossed many lines.  You cannot even remember how it first happened.  It feels like Bang Chan has always been in the shadows, stealing paintings and kisses alike.  One moment you were snarking at the infuriating cat burglar, then your hands were in his hair and his mouth was on yours. 

Sometimes he wins, distracting you or holding you, giving his team time to make off with something.  Sometimes you win, trapping him or his men and only letting them go if they relinquish their prize.  Weirdly, Chan seems to like it when you outsmart him.  It quite literally puts him on his knees.

Flustered, your next swing is more emotional than strategic.  He catches your arm and spins you again, trapping you against his body.  You grunt and struggle in his arms. 

“That’s not very polite, you know,” he says.  “I thought you said you were a lady.”

Yes, you have made such an insistence in the past, reminding him you are a lady of class, an educated woman, an intelligent academic.  He did not argue.  He did pin you to the wall and choke you in that infuriatingly delicious way, the way that gets you coming all over his hand in a second.   That’s it, he said, with a hand around your throat and another under your skirt.  Tell me what a lady you are.  Letting a criminal like me make you come.  Tsk, what would your co-workers say? 

You stamp the memory down because it is getting you hot.   He is holding you differently than before, so you cannot swing your head back again.  You writhe uselessly. 

“I didn’t just say I was a lady,” you snap.  “I am a lady.  I am a respected professional, unlike you—”

“I’m respected and professional, thank you,” he says, his tone still bright like he is having fun. 

It is fun. You hate to admit it, but it is.  Before he started breaking into your galleries, every day was the same.  Your life was such a monotony and you dread returning to it. There is a reason you never call the authorities on him.  There would be no triumph in that demise. You would lament his absence and forever feel like business went unfinished. 

You are satisfied when you can face this dangerous man and win, when you can push him on his back and put him in his place, when all that danger and power and skill surrenders to you and you alone.  Because Bang Chan has a notorious reputation for a lot of things, but fraternizing with civilians is not one of them.   

Except you. 

Except right now. 

“You know what I say, little miss lady?” he asks.

He gives you no time to answer.  Your breath catches when he circles that gloved hand around your throat and squeezes.  It softens every part of you immediately, like a kitten grabbed by the scruff, instinctively and animalistically submissive in the claws of something powerful. 

You whimper, your knees going weak.  You know you are wet.  You know he knows. 

He pulls you against him.  You can feel every hard plane of his body, his bulky body armour, his weapons.  You feel either a buckle or his bulge against your body, but either way it is irrevocably suggestive.   When you wriggle, he squeezes your throat, and you go pliant again. 

“I’d say,” he whispers, “you need someone to put you in your place.”   

Oh, he has talked about your place many times before.  It’s with me, he will insist, fucking you within an inch of your life, making you come again and again, putting you on your knees and bringing out all the hidden dark and dirty parts of yourself.  Come on, he will say, we’re perfect for each other, yeah? You know it.  Join my team.  Come with me. 

You do admit, he respects your keen eye and talent, and he acknowledges your expertise far more than the other people at your gallery.  It took a year to even be allowed to do substantial tasks, relegated to fetching everyone’s coffee, getting spoken down to because you were a woman whose ambition was considered a nuisance. 

That is not enough to resort to a criminal life.  Surely? 

But for a moment, you can imagine giving into the darkness permanently.  Tonight, it is you that surrenders as he drags you both into the shadows and onto the floor.  He takes off his jacket and lays it out, pushing you down face-first onto it.  You take a dizzying gulp of air while his hands are occupied, removing his gloves, unbuckling his utility belt.   

You wait for the moment he lifts your skirt.  His breath catches when he realizes you are not wearing anything underneath.

You yelp because he smacks your ass.  You look back at him with as much fury as you can muster in your haze of lust. 

“A lady,” he says, grabbing your hips and tugging you back.  “Sure.” 

“I am,” you say, but your voice is rough, your breathing heavy just from his bare fingers gliding down your wet pussy, the evidence of your desire betraying your claims of propriety. 

“Sure, baby girl,” he says, because he knows it annoys you even while it makes you clench.  He can see the evidence of that too, swearing as he looks at you, making you feel even more exposed and flustered.   “You’re made for me, you know that, sweetheart?  Always feel so good on my dick.  God.” 

“You’re taking your time tonight,” you say dryly.  “Getting sentimental?  Turning into the slow and gentle type?” 

He laughs.  Then he grabs you by the neck, pinning you to the floor as he sidles up behind you.  The head of his cock presses at your entrance, wet with anticipation. 

“You want gentle?” he asks.  He is inside you with one deep thrust.  “Wrong fucking address.”

The truth is, even when rough, he is careful.  Your face never leaves his jacket and he knows where to squeeze and hit and press properly.   Bizarrely, ridiculously, you are safe in this criminal’s dangerous hands.   The biggest threat they pose are just how skilled and deft they are, making you forget about all of those details as he manhandles you and fucks your worries away. 

He wraps a hand around your throat and lifts you.  He is still in his mask, still almost entirely clothed except his undone fly.  Your skirt is up, your shirt in disarray, your chest and throat exposed to his hands.  You can hear him panting into his mask, your own breath as wild until he steals it.  You clench around him, making a weak, ragged sound as he chokes you and pounds into you. 

“You’re not gonna come like this, are ya?” he taunts, because he knows your body well, can feel you are the on verge just from his angles and rhythm.  “Tsk,” he says.  “That’s not very lady-like.”

You would tell him to shut up, but you can only manage a weepy moan as he drives you over the edge of a mind-numbing orgasm.  You feel drenched, dripping down your thighs, and he still doesn’t relent, pushing you back down and holding your hips as he drills through every sensitive nerve. 

“Fuck,” you say, twisting your fingers around his jacket.  Your knees will probably be bruised after this.  No short skirts or everyone will know something happened.  Would they guess you let the most notorious burglar in the country arch your back and fuck you on the floor?  Probably not.  You have always been a stickler for rules. 

Until this.  Until him. 

“Chan,” you say, breathless, rasping.  “Chan.”

“Fuck,” he says.  Then the weight of him is on your back, his hips grinding into yours.  His masked face brushes your ear and he speaks in a low voice, “Guess where I’m coming tonight, baby girl.” 

Your walls are still fluttering with aftershocks, pulling him deeper at his words.  It is not the first time, no.  God only knows how long ago that conversation first happened, telling him it was safe, how much you wanted it.   Letting him do things you never let anyone else do.  Breaking all your rules for him. 

“Fuck, Chan,” you say. 

“Yeah, baby,” he rasps.  “That’s who’s fucking you.  No one fucks you like I do.  God.  You can take it.  So good.” 

You can feel when he comes, his chest vibrating with his groan, the warmth inside you.  You slump in his arms, ravaged and sore and not the least bit sorry for it. 

You should be.  He won this round.  You should be furious at him.  You should be threatening him.  Your usual rapport. 

His mask comes off.  You hear it hit the floor.  Then he is grabbing your jaw and turning your face and kissing you deeply.  He holds your throat, not threateningly but possessively.  He is kissing you for so long, you almost forget who you are.  Then you surface.  You look at each other. 

“Come with me,” he says. 

The haze of lust has vanished.  You should be thinking clearly.  You fear, for the first time, you are.    

You suppose he has stolen everything else, why not you too? 

You put your hand in his.   

[gloomwitchwrites]

Winter Gem

Thranduil x Female Elf Reader

Content & Warnings: soft!Thranduil, widowed!Thranduil, fluff, peril & rescue, mild hurt/comfort

Word Count: 1.8k

Seeking something precious for Thranduil, you're caught in a storm. When you don't return, he goes searching for you.

A/N: For @firelightinferno

ao3 // taglist // main masterlist // winter 2023 masterlist

“The first snows have arrived.”

“It has come early.”

Thranduil inclines his head in acknowledgement. “Indeed.”

You stand beside Thranduil outside the main gates. Five guards stand nearby but there is no danger. A steady snowfall drifts down from the sky. The snowflakes are slightly gray in appearance, almost like ash on the wind. You frown down at a few of the flakes that land on your leather vambrace.

“You look ready for your hunt,” observes Thranduil, gesturing toward your attire with the tip of his head.

“Yes,” reply softly. “I plan on heading out for a bit.”

His eyebrows rise toward his hairline. “In this weather?”

You glance up from the vambrace and meet his blue eyes. Thranduil’s gaze is startling and sharp. Piercing. Intense. It cuts right down to your heart. His gaze always holds you hostage, wrapping you up in his essence. Most might find Thranduil intimidating, but you know better.

“Is my king telling me I cannot?” You’re teasing him, and Thranduil knows this. His smile is one of soft amusement.

“As long as you return to me. You are free to do as you wish.” Even though Thranduil’s tone is gentle, you understand the deeper meaning.

Thranduil lost his wife many years ago. Other than his son, Legolas, you are his comfort. He wants you to be free, to enjoy the pleasures of life, but he also wants you to be safe, to return to him at the end of every leaving.

Thranduil glances over his shoulder. The guards on duty discreetly glance away, staring off into the distance as if they’ve suddenly found something of great interest. Thranduil leans in and shifts his body to block their view of you. He is close enough that it might appear that the two of you are kissing, but he does not meet your lips.

In the end, Thranduil is private about affection. He does not like to share your tender moments together in front of others.

“Enjoy your hunt. I eagerly await your return.”

You give him a half-hearted, sarcastic bow that immediately puts a wide smile on his face. Thranduil watches you until you disappear into the trees. Perhaps he lingers longer than that, wondering if you will turn around and come back to him.

It is true. You are on a hunt, but not for what he or anyone else is likely expecting.

Over a week ago, Thranduil went out in the woods with some of the guards on patrol. It’s the first time he’s been out beyond the walls in some time. Many patrols that ventured into the northern regions reported back on a strangeness in the air, and the scent of evil. Thranduil decided to investigate.

While tracking, he lost something precious.

Around his neck on a chain, Thranduil kept a silver ring. Within the ring is a precious gem, a blue stone so pale it almost appears white like a burning star. The chain that held it snapped while he and the guards chased a group of spiders that had made their way south.

He remembered it snagging, and while he did not show any distress upon telling you of its disappearance, you also know how much that ring and jewel means to him. It was a gift from his wife when they were newly married. She had a matching one, but upon her death, Thranduil moved it from his finger to around his neck.

This hunt—your hunt—is about that ring. You have a fairly good idea about where it might have fallen, and there is no reason for it to have moved since then. Few enter these woods unless they follow the road, and that is on rare occasions.

Tracking is your specialty, and your time is not limited due to the falling snow. But you’ve tracked in worse weather. The snow is unfortunate, but you can still search as long as it remains at its current pace. The tree cover will keep much of the snow in the higher canopy. There will be time yet before the snow completely covers the ground and you lose the trail.

Heading north, you retrace the path the patrol took. Yes, a week has passed, and nature reclaims much, but not everything is hidden so quickly. There are small disturbances that indicate the path ahead.

As you begin to draw nearer to the area Thranduil mentioned, the snow starts to pick up. It becomes thicker, not staying above in the canopy but instead making its way to the ground. It’s not ideal, but you can manage.

Thranduil mentioned two tree trunks growing together and then breaking apart. When you happen upon it, the snow comes down in thicker sheets. On the ground, it’s sticking. Collecting. Time is running out. Elves have good eyes, and you focus in on the ground, gnarled roots, and underbrush.

Near the base of the tangled tree, you notice a slight sparkle. Approaching it, you go down on one knee, brushing away some of the snow.

“Found you.”

The ring is there, resting in the roots. It appears undamaged, and that is a relief. Picking it up, you tuck it into an inside pocket, protecting it from the elements.

The snow crunches under your boots, and the wind howls. For the first time, you shiver. Cold is not and has never been an issue. Elves can withstand a great many things, including winter weather.

Frowning, you turn into the chilly wind. There is a disturbance. Something dark and foul. It sets the edges of your nerves tingling. A simmering suspicion bubbles up from somewhere within you, question whether this snow is natural or not.

Turning on your heel, you head back the way you came. But the snow is heavy, and your fresh tracks are starting to slip away, returning to the snow. As you walk, the snowfall becomes a storm. The wind whips up, swirling the snow around until you cannot see more than a few feet in front of your face.

Your instincts were right. This storm is not natural. It is too early for it, and storms like these are rare in the Woodland Realm.

The toe of your boot catches in a downed tree branch and you slam face first into the snow. It’s freezing. Temperature isn’t usually a deterrent for the elves, but this is beyond cold. It’s as if you’ve been swallowed whole by a massive glacier.

You walk and walk, and you have no idea if you’ve gained any ground. There are no visible signs, and you’re not sure how far you’ve gone, or if you’re simply walking in circles. The snow is deepening or perhaps you’re imagining it. Everything seems darker, like the world is closing in.

You’re not dressed for this sort of weather.

And you’re tired. So tired. Your knees and thighs burn, and sitting down for some rest doesn’t seem so bad. It’s fine. You can take refugee within the deep roots of a tree. You can stay warm there until the snow dissipates. Then, you can return. Thranduil will understand.

As if opening for you, the roots of a nearby tree expand, showing safety from the storm. You slink into it, curling up into a ball.

You drift in the howling wind. There is a haze that sits on your eyelashes. Whether you dream or not is irrelevant. Numbness oozes into your limbs, and that only forces you to curl up tighter, wanting to pull away from the cold.

A hand touches the side of your head. It is warm. Gentle. The fingers slide up to brush your hair out of your face. You hear your name but it is a whisper. Distant. So far away it doesn’t seem real.

There are arms around you. Lifting. Steady. And when you inhale, the scent is familiar. You know who it is instantly.

“Thranduil,” you murmur, and the answer is a gentle squeeze of your hand.

“I found you, my star.”

There are only short moments of consciousness. There is snow. Cold. The antlers of an elk. The gates of home, and then warmth. So much warmth that the numbness begins to recede.

You are brought back to the living world near a roaring fire. Beneath you is a makeshift bed comprised of pillows and soft blankets. You shift, and feel bare skin against bare skin. Slowly, you push yourself to sitting.

Your leather gear is gone, replaced with a soft robe that traps in the heat.

“You’re awake.” Thranduil’s voice is a gentle, comforting hug.

Turning toward his voice, you watch as he glides across the floor. Thranduil wears silver robes of starlight. In his hands in a small tray. On it is a steaming cup of tea and an assortment of food. Bending at the knees, Thranduil settles in beside you, placing the tray down on the blankets.

“You came looking for me,” you say, and your voice nearly cracks with emotion.

“Did you think I would not?” he asks, arranging the food around on the tray.

You know, deep in your heart, that Thranduil would come, but you also believed in your abilities as a tracker. “When did you start to worry?”

Thranduil lifts the cup off the tray and presents it to you. “When the storm picked up. Something about it felt unnatural.” You take it, and bring the warm beverage to your lips. “I gathered some guards and we set out. It is good that we found you in time.” He pauses. “I’m not sure my heart could take any more loss.”

The heat of the tea spreads throughout your body, the chill slipping away quickly. “I do believe you are correct. That storm was not natural.”

Thranduil nods. “There is a growing darkness to the north. The scouts on patrol have spoken of it often but have been unable to get close enough for more details.”

“Perhaps I strayed too close,” you murmur.

“Perhaps,” replies Thranduil, reaching out to take your hand. He lifts it, and brings it into his lap. Using both hands, he rotates your wrist until your palm faces the ceiling. Then, he guides your open palm to his lips, placing a soft kiss in the middle of it.

Instant warmth shoots out from that spot, running down your arm and piercing your heart like an arrow. Slowly, he curls your fingers in, creating a loose fist, and then brushes his lips against your knuckles before pulling away.

He does not release your hand. “I know why you left.”

“Thranduil—”

“You did not need to explain. I understand why.” Thranduil reaches out and cups your cheek, turning your face toward him. “I am thankful that you found it, but you are also precious to me, and losing you is a far greater loss.”

You turn into his touch. “That ring is important to you.”

“Many things are important to me. But the ring is just that. A thing. You are breathing. You are here. I would like to keep it that way.”

Your eyes drift close and you revel in the warmth of his touch. “Are you mad?”

“Never.”

“Will you hold me?”

“For as long as you like.”

taglist:

@foxxy-126 @glassgulls @km-ffluv @sweetbutpsychobutsweet @singleteapot @firelightinferno @glitterypirateduck @tiredmetalenthusiast @protosslady @childofyuggoth @coffeecaketornado @ninman82 @therealbloom

[colethewolf]

A Real, Legitimate Summary of the Teen Wolf Movie's Plot:

(I'm not joking, but you're going to think I am)

also, spoilers obviously...

Scott McCall works as a rescue dog saving victims from building collapses in LA

Mr. Harris, the long DEAD biology teacher for school somehow magically comes back from the dead and decides to get his revenge on Scott

Mr. Harris flies to Japan and robs a ramen shop that Liam & Fake-Kira Hikari own, because they decide to keep the nogitsune locked in a spice jar on a spice rack

The nogitsune brings Allison back to life, who has been dead for 15 years, and uses the oni to kidnap everybody to hold them hostage in a magic spirit realm located underneath the lacrosse field while scott & eli play a lacrosse game

The nogitsune's plan is to make the entire pack watch Allison shoot Scott in the heart and kill him, so that everybody will be sad and he can drink their sadness to become more powerful

Scott pretends to die, so the Nogitsune gets made and turns into a WEREWOLF-NOGITSUNE HYBRID MONSTER and attacks

The pack decides that the only way to kill the nogitsune (even tho the nogitsune was previously established to literally be unkillable) is to have Parrish hug him and set him on fire to death

For some reason, the werewolf-nogitsune hybrid monster won't stand still to die, so derek decides to literally SACRIFICE HIMSELF by holding down the werewolf-nogitusne and letting Parrish burn BOTH derek and the nogitsune to death

Derek literally burns himself to death right in front of eli and orphans him

Scott and Allison decide to adopt Eli and run a dog shelter in LA

The End.

(no, i'm not joking.....this actually happened. this was the movie. some of the worst fanfiction that I ever read watched in my life)

P.S the only good part of this really bad fanfic movie is that for the whole movie derek keeps saying that he hates stiles' jeep (and he doesn't explain why) and then at the end of the movie at derek's funeral, sheriff stilinski gives Eli the jeep and says that derek secretly didn't hate the jeep.

then he explains that after Stiles left it behind, Derek towed it back to his auto shop (because derek is a mechanic now btw????) and fixed up stiles' jeep literally so he could keep it for himself. and I'm pretty sure this is supposed to be some metaphor for derek not realizing he's in love with stiles until after stiles moves away and now all that he has left is the jeep????

so, canon!sterek yay!

[anzulvr]

Thank you for follow back! >.> meant a lot to me. Is it okay if I request a Karma x reader where the reader is very sweet & affectionate towards Karma & it makes him shy. No pressure. Just wanted to say hi & thank you! ^_^

♡ ୨୧ Karma with affectionate Reader ୨୧ ♡

ʚɞ fluff; no warnings || Karma Akabane ♥︎ note : HIII HII SORRY THIS IS LIKE CENTURIES LATE SHEA… guys pls tell me if you see typos I checked but I get sick of reading my own things again and again… 😭|| ʚɞ

— Karma is inexperienced when it comes to relationships therefore when you’re affectionate and sweet to him he doesn’t know how to act!!

His face canonically gets super red when he’s embarrassed though it’s not an often thing because he can usually shake things off with a joke! When it does happen it’s finally your chance to get back at him for all the times he’s purposely taken weird photos of you.

He’d be shy with PDA (when he’s not trying to embarrass you, since he’s also the type to mortify you by calling you the stupidest pet names in front of your friends and family.)

If you react strongly it's worse because he loves getting you mad and rilled up it's like his love language. Some people like giving gifts or giving words of affirmation to their s/o while he likes pissing you off.

If you randomly hold his hand or rest your hand on his shoulder he won’t know what to do. He plays with your hand instead of staying still as a way to distract himself from how giddy he’s feeling.

Half the time “playing with your hand” means him trying to jokingly get you to slap your own face with your hand, the other half of the time when he feels like being nice and cute he’s just lightly squeezing it.

Very “opposites attract” troupe.

Even when you were just friends you were very attentive which isn’t something he’s familiar with. For the first time ever there’s someone taking care of him? Asking about his day and doing anything to make him feel better when it’s a bad one? He’d find it hard to believe you’re doing so much for him without wanting anything in return.

When he starts getting more comfortable in the relationship he inches towards being sweeter and more open with you.

E-class finds it hard to believe when they first see it, cause it’s Karma out of all people?? Karma being affectionate??

Don’t get me started on Asano’s reaction to this, he from the bottom of his heart, thinks you’re being held hostage.

Most of Karmas “affection” is just making fun of people so when they see him being weirdly nice to you it’s creepy to them. Constant compliments and praise coming out of his mouth is something they didn’t think they’d live to see.

He can’t be serious for long periods of time and always finds a way to “ruin the moment”. For example you’ll hug him and Karma will hug back… for three seconds before he lifts you off the ground and spins you till too dizzy to walk. (He finds it funny to see you struggling.)

Ms.Vitch is tired of you both because you refuse to work with anyone else she sets you up with (since her class centers around assassination with seduction). Sure, the phrases she makes you all say are awkward no matter who you’re saying it to but you can’t bring yourself to work with your other classmates for that class! If you do work with someone else he’s so shady about it afterwards.

“Karma do you mind getting my bag for me?"

“Maybe ask Maehara since he’s so strong.”

“You know I only said that for the class!!"

Karasuma is also sick of you two getting side tracked, instead of sparring you two sword fight, instead of running a mile you somehow convince Karma to carry you on his back while he does all the running?! (he’s a show off.) Instead of doing pushups you sit on Karmas back as he does them. It gets to the point he makes you work on opposite sides of the field but you somehow end up getting together anyway within minutes. He’s starting to give up.

On the brighter side you’re together in all of Korosensei’s classes because he can’t bring himself to separate you two! He did once and you were so miserable he gave in. Even if Karma does give you the answers in exchange for a kiss (it’s really that easy.) Korosensei thought you might’ve died from heartbreak if he kept you apart longer.

It’s pretty hard to make him shy since he’s constantly being praised to the point his ego is up there. It happens in more quiet, private moments. Like if you’re at his house watching a movie and you’re moving closer together all of a sudden he’s looking at the roof and not the screen. He can’t let you see his face is beet red.

Another example is him seeing you in a pretty outfit and not being able to act right cause he’s flustered.

“Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re just, you’re- you you’re I like.”

“Come again?”

[ctheathy]

Hello, I hope you have a nice day! , I would like to request a headcanons of yandere nine x reader being kidnapped by doctor eggman

Yandere Nine w/ Darling who got kidnapped by Robotnik

Nine x Reader

Yandere Headcanons

Short Concept

Author's note: You, my dear reader, are all out for the drama and I'm here for it~!

Nine/Reader [Romantic Tendencies]

[Gender-neutral Darling|Female Darling|Male Darling]

Potential ⚠️TWs⚠️ :

Possessiveness • Nine is so traumatized omfg- • Eventual PTSD • Age regression • Overprotective behaviour • Poor mental state • Paranoia • Emotional dependency • Trust Issues • Insomnia • Violence

Pfft. If Nine wasn't already considered severely unhinged before, he most certainly will be right now. Oh how much terror the fox would feel in the pits of his stomach, the horror in his eyes, the helplessness in his heart. He most certainly would have never allowed this to even remotely come forward if he were the one to be in your presence. But... he wasn't. The whole team would have felt this immense sense of hesitance and dread to even tell him about it, having noticed his attachment and emotional bond towards you... and when the words slip from Sonic's mouth, not ready to test the nine-tailed foxes’ impatience, he cracks. And not just any regular burst of anger, he has a complete mental breakdown.

Nine will be nothing less than a ball of angst and fright at this point, something which he desperately tried to cover up with an infuriated facade, despite his evident worries from your abduction. But none of that would matter in the end, because he'd behave completely berserk one way or another. He doesn't dare rest or waste time for that matter until he can hold you in his arms again. Likely as soon as they reach The Chaos Council to try and bring you back... Nine would not hold himself back, still taken over by his violent meltdown. Instead of trying to avoid the Council's eyes and enemies that are in the way, maintaining a low profile as he'd say, he releases all of that pent up malice.

Though he'd leave many of the his robotic opponents onto the grounds ...torn to scraps by the fierce abilities of his mechanical tails, Nine would be surprisingly merciful to any living mobian for the sake of getting answers on where you're being held hostage. Because remember; although venting out some of his frustrations during the fight was equal to his hostility towards those who just so happened to be in his way, this mission is not and never will be about assassinating every enemy he comes across for the sake of just hurting them. It's all just to release you from The Chaos Council's grasp, take you back to his workshop where you rightfully belong ...bring you back to him. An objective and promise he will never allow himself to forget ever again after seeing your frightened face and body.

Even after he does get you back to the team, and he will no matter the costs or sacrifices he has to offer. But although you're back home, safe.... His paranoia will continue to linger and remain at its highest. Though the wounds you obtained through your abduction will eventually heal, his trauma of your kidnapping won't for a very long time. The side affects seemingly starts off small through your perspective, and you probably wouldn't even know how much it deep down affected him. Especially as the amber fox just seems to want to stick closeby you, seeking for comforting reassurance and some guidance to get himself back on the right track, which you more than understand and accept with open arms.

But what if I told you that he just got much, ...much more insane and delusional than you may think after you got taken away like that. It was like a newborn kitten being taken away from its mother right after birth, one whom he'd desperately cry out to and crawl after. To Nine, it wasn't just the idea of losing that happiness of having somebody to care about, but this also re-activated his defense mechanism to his past trauma.

Kill or be killed.

Nine's whole mentality practically returns to that of his younger self, almost similar to an age regression... You'd probably also notice the changes in demeanor, how he's practically almost behaving like a juvenile again. Decisions are made more so out of instinct rather than rational, logical thoughts. Which, to you, is something completely foreign and out of character for Nine.

His overprotective impulses would kick in at full force and he'd be quicker to lash out, along with his pessimistic mentality and stress being multiplied in the process, which is something his already poor mental state is absolutely not emotionally capable of handling. Even with you just not being in his eyesight can leave Nine with severe anxiety. His emotions are quicker to flow over, resulting in either anger outbursts or crying... And he practically treats you as if you were actively dying from a disease, constantly thinking of and mentioning the “what ifs”.

There would be many restless nights where he wakes up in the middle of the night, teary-eyed after a dream vision or isn't even capable of drifting off into a slumber at all. The simple thought of you ending up hurt and scarred while he wasn't there to protect you keeps his nerves excessive and senses on constant high alert. Even just the consideration in itself can leave him in a condition of hysteria for the next half hour, unable to calm himself down. These sudden exchanges of panic making you realise just how inconsistent it is, as Nine was usually known as collected, self-assured... in control of the situation. Something you'd consider the other side of the coin of how he was operating at this very moment. A complete and sudden reverse swap in his very identity.

Making you pray... that this was a crutch you could hopefully help him grow out of

[drakulana]

the first spark // trafalgar law x reader

content: sfw, fem! reader, female pronouns, sloooow burn w little resolution, long reader backstory, violence

part 2, part 3

word count: 5.5k

notes: this is my first ever fan fic!!! i’m very proud of it, and i worked on it for a few weeks on and off. i hope you enjoy!!

⋆⭒˚‧₊˚°❀⋆₊⊹ ⋆｡𖦹˚. ͟͟͞☆

The Polar Tang had been under the water for about a month now. Never in a million years did (Y/n) think she’d be in the middle of the ocean, let alone underneath the surface in a submarine, 395 meters down. She had joined the Heart Pirates about 6 months ago and was just now getting used to being underwater for such a long amount of time. She had been having continuous headaches she assumed to be due to the pressure of being underwater for such a long time. They would come and go, some days worse than others. Today was one of the worst days. The chores had been done, and all the tasks were complete. Most of the crew decided to lounge around, hanging out with one another. To (Y/n) it seemed as if all corners of the submarine were occupied, and they all had too much noise to focus. Trying to find some peace and quiet, she made her way down to the boiler room, letting the laughter and chatter of her crew fade as she departed. It was not the first time she had done this, in fact this was her little secret. No one liked to come down here unless it was included in the work that they had to do. Pipes lined the walls, and the low hum of engines from a few doors over buzzed through the room. Finally at peace, she took a deep breath and exhaled.

A week ago, (Y/n) had stashed a book and a blanket down here, along with a pillow and a cushion she found in storage. She tucked herself into the corner, and sat down on the box that had placed the cushion on. She pulled out the book she was reading which was just a volume of some medical book Captain Law had in the library. Principles of Neurology. It was not an interesting read in the slightest, but there really was not a wide variety to choose from in the Surgeon of Death’s library.

Her mind started to wander as she flipped page by page trying to follow along the best she could with what she was reading. An entity of “frailty” has been conceived to encompass the sum of breakdown in multiple organ systems… She read the sentence over a few times. She made a mental note to get a book that was relatively interesting on the next island that they stopped on. Letting out a sigh, she continued to try to read but ended up drifting away with her thoughts. She was still relatively new to the crew, she had been with them for 6 months. Long enough to get comfortable with her crewmates, but not so long that they knew everything about her.

(Y/n) joined the Heart Pirates after aiding Law with intel that he needed about someone he was “researching.” During the process of this, she got caught up with the conflicts of whoever Law was looking into, and was taken hostage. While in hostage, the person pressed her for information of who was after them, how she knew all of their info, who was her informant? Despite the pressure, and the fear of looming death, she did not give out any answers. She chose against ratting out the Heart Pirates. At that moment, she was sure she was gonna die either way. If she gave out the information, the Heart Pirates were sure to come after her. If they were to get a hold of her, she’d have to answer to the Surgeon of Death. However, if she didn’t give out the answers, the man who was holding her hostage could kill her. So naturally, she picked the lesser of the two evils. Her mouth was staying shut. Like hell was she going to answer to Trafalgar Law of all people. She sat back and recalled that day.

She was held in a damp, dim, humid room. She wasn’t too sure on how long she had been there, but it was probably half a day. The interrogation started out like all of them did with questions and threats. After the first few hours of not speaking punches began to be thrown, and weapons were soon pulled out. Somebody’s hasty, she thought to herself as the interrogation took turns for the worst faster than she had anticipated. It was clear the man she had sold out was in a hurry. He was scared. How he found out it was her that sold his information, she didn’t know. All she knew was that this guy found out, and now he was mad and had a dagger. He kept questioning, each unanswered question he got a couple cuts in. Midquestion, a commotion outside the door started. Yelling ensued, then things breaking and then a panicked, “Boss, we have visitors.” The man interrogating you paused his mild torture, faltering as he stepped towards the door, like he was weighing his options. Would he stay in this room, or deal with the inevitable of being confronted by the man who seemed out his information, Trafalgar Law. He turned to the girl who was sitting in the chair. Her hands were tied in front of her, and her feet were tied together. “You,” He pointed an accusatory finger, “this is all your fault!” and you know, he was right, it was all her fault. She gave the intel for a very pretty penny, but how was she suppose to know she was going to get kidnapped and interrogated. How did they even know it was her who gave the intel? Questions zoomed through her head as he stormed towards her with the dagger in his hand. He held it to her throat. “I oughta kill you right here, right now. A life for a life.” The cool edge of the shaky blade pressed into her skin, nicking her in the slightest due to his unsteady hands. Then, with a sharp slice, her warm sticky blood poured down her neck. An involuntary gasp ripped from her throat as she felt the blood gather at the neckline of her shirt, soaking it. This is it, she thought, Here’s where I die. But before he could cut any deeper, the door to the room burst open. A warm yellow light illuminated the room from the hall outside. A tall figure stood in the doorway. It stormed over to the man, grabbing him by the back of his collar, turning him around. The warm light from the hallway casted across the face of the figure, it was none other than Trafalgar Law. Law craned down to the man’s height, paying the woman tied to the chair no mind, “I believe you have something I want,” he said in a low gruff voice. The man trembled in his grasp. “Now why don’t we take a little trip to your laboratory,” Trafalgar Law dragged the man out of the room, leaving the woman in there alone. It was a quick few minutes before she realized she was gonna have to free herself, and this was her only chance.

She looked around the room and spotted the dagger that the man had dropped near the doorway. Seeing her chance of escape, she scooted the chair towards the entrance. She grabbed the knife with her feet. Reaching down with her tied hands, she cut the ropes that bound her. Whoever tied her up did a really shitty job. Finally free, she prepared herself to escape. Dagger in hand, the silver of the blade glinting as she gazed upon the object. She couldn’t help but notice the blood on the edge from the man attempting to slit her throat. She tried to pay no mind to the wet sticky pain that was starting to raidiate down her neck and into her collarbones. Pushing the pain aside, she made her way through the place, careful to avoid anyone who might be lurking. Once she made it out, she let out a sigh of relief. Barefoot and bleeding, she decided she should probably take the alleyways home. She would hate to scare oncoming bypassers, or god forbid someone contact the authorities. Slipping into the alley, she started to make her way home before a voice cut through the night, “And where do you think you’re going?” Her head whipped around, gripping the dagger that she held in her hand. That voice was the one of Trafalgar Law. She met the man’s golden eyes. She quickly took in his appearance. When she first gave him the intel she had noticed his height, but she also wasn’t fearing for her life at the time. The weight of impending doom really added a foot or two to his appearance. “I didn’t tell them anything,” she breathed. “I didn’t say a word, I swear.” The words tumbled out of her mouth, and her voice didn’t sound like hers as it bounced off the alleyway walls. He took a step closer to her, “I know, but I still can’t let you go. You’re hurt, let me look at it,” he stepped closer. Her mouth felt as if it were filled with cotton. She took a step back, “I’m fine,” she gritted while taking one more step back, trying to put enough distance between them just so she’d have a chance of running away. She was just interrogated and borderline tortured, if she had known what the intentions were behind the wanted intel, she would’ve denied the offer. Besides, it wasn’t like the intel was collected for malice in the first place. (Y/n) had a goal, and that goal was to collect the most information she could, and write it all down into a book. This extended from histories of islands, pirates, doctors, scientists, government officials. Few people knew about her knowledges of the world and it’s inhabitants. Every now and then she would get someone wanting some information, and if the price was right she’d give it to them. She never thought it would lead to this, cornered in an alleyway by the Surgeon of Death himself. “I’m a doctor,” Law’s voice echoed off the walls as he slowly stepped forward towards her, like he was trying to approach a scared stray, careful not to spook it. His hands were held out in front of him, as if he meant no harm, however the word ‘DEATH’ tattooed across both his hands stated otherwise.

“I know good and well who and what you are.” Unintentional venom laced her words. She knew all about the reputation that seemed to proceed him. She had done her research whenever she came across his wanted poster a year ago. She never thought she would cross paths with him, he was just another name in her book for the longest time.

“Then you know it’s in your best interest if you just come with me.” With that last sentence from him, she falsely dropped her guard, muttering a small okay. She didn’t think this tactic was going to work, but as soon as she saw him relax his stance, she bolted. Running through the alleyway with no shoes seemed to be a difficult task, impeding her usual speed. Trying her best to avoid glass and nails, she darted in between the buildings, and in and out of the alleyways. She had the advantage, she knew this city. The poorly maintained asphalt stung, but she had no other choice but to ignore it if she wanted to get away.

She finally was able to duck behind a building after what felt like an eternity of turning down random streets and alleys. She leaned against the bricks to catch her breath, gripping the dagger in her hand. Her heartbeat was in her ears, she could feel the blood rushing through every vein. She stilled and tried to stay quiet, the only sound leaving her was a shaky exhale. The adrenaline slightly wore off as the silence of the night settled. The events of the night really started to set into her body. Her arms and legs aches, her lungs burned, her throat was on fire. Despite the pain setting in, she thought she had gotten away by some miracle, but a second later the same low voice she was running from bounced around her again. “You really think you could get away from me that easily?” His voice echoed, giving it a more sinister sound than what he had intended. She met his eyes. She didn’t know if it was the adrenaline making her analyze her situation in full detail, or if she was just delusional, but she found herself taking in every detail of his presence. The eyes that held her eye contact were golden. He had a lean figure, and was undoubtedly in shape. The moonlight poured over his figure, casting an intimidating shadow as he now stood in front of her. She noted the yellow button up that was halfway buttoned, showing a glimpse of the tattoo on his chest. He had on jeans that had spots on them, and a white hat that shared those same spots. Draped over his shoulders was a long navy coat. If she wasn’t running from him, she could’ve admitted that he was quite an attractive man, but in her head he was trying to catch her so he could kill her.

Her grip on the handle of the dagger tightened before hurling it in Law’s direction. The blade rotated in the air before hitting Law in the shoulder. The way the dagger was thrown would’ve been deemed as impressive by him if he wasn’t on the receiving end of the throw. He quickly pulled the dagger out of his shoulder, and threw it to the ground before chasing after her, once again. This time she was only able to make it a few blocks before he finally tackled her to the ground against the rough concrete. She felt the skin of her knees and elbows scrape against the asphalt, surely breaking the skin. Heart racing, and body trembling, the woman underneath him had no choice but to accept her fate. “You’ll be coming with me,” he growled at her, bitterness lacing his tone. He pulled her up and off the ground then led her to the dock on the bay. His grip was more than enough of a reminder that there was nowhere she could go.

The walk to the submarine was silent, and the man next to her was not giving off a very welcoming energy considering he was taking her against her will. Blood slightly bled through his shirt where the dagger had hit him. He walked her down the dock, and onto a yellow submarine that had ‘DEATH’ written on the side of it. Well how lovely is that? She thought to herself. His firm grip on her upper arm never faltered as he guided her down the hallways of the submarine. Several of his crew members moved aside to make way for the two of them to walk down the hall. It was like a walk of shame. Once they reached the end of the hall, he opened a door. The sterile smell of rubbing alcohol and latex filled her nose, as the bright white lights poured out of the room. It was an examination room. “Sit,” he pointed to the examination table. Having no other choice, that’s exactly what she did, she sat.

Without another word, he started inspecting her injuries. He lifted her chin to get a better look at her neck. “This will need stitches,” he said flatly. He examined the other scrapes and cuts on her body. The adrenaline wore off long ago, and pain radiated from her toes to her head. He cleaned the area and prepped his needle. The stitching process was painful. She sharply inhaled when he stuck the needle through. “Be still,” he commanded, “It’ll only hurt worse if you move.” She had to force herself not to flinch at the needle stitching up her wound. Finally having her still, and in front of him, Law couldn’t deny that (Y/n) was very attractive. The way her hair framed her face, the way she held herself with such self assurance. Fear still resided in her pretty eyes, as she stayed as still as possible while he stitched. He ended up doing seven stitches, the cut was sure to leave a scar to adorn her pretty neck. He cleaned the other wounds and bandaged them up. It was silent in that exam room, and then finally he broke the silence. “Why did you run away?” He asked her. She looked at him like asked the stupidest question, and in some way he did. Who wouldn’t run away from the Surgeon of Death? His reputation alone was enough to make a grown man fall to his knees, and she had literally just seen a grown man fall to his knees at the hand of him. After weighing her response, she broke the silence, “Dying wasn’t on my agenda once I got out of there,” her voice quiet, but not weak.

“Why would I kill you?” He asked her. Again, another incredulous look was thrown at him. Was he not aware of the grumbling that went along with his name?

“For knowing too much?” She answered, in a duh tone.

“You don’t know anymore than you did whenever I approached you for intel. I had some of my men go through your files, you have some very impressive intel on multiple pirates including the warlords and emperors. Where do you get all that?”

“Verified sources,” she simply answered, not letting onto her process of gathering information. There was another silence before she broke it this time. “Listen, if you’re going to kill me, just go ahead and make it quick. Medical torture really doesn’t sound appealing.”

He chuckled lightly at this, but it was not one of humor, “I’m not gonna kill you, but I’m definitely not letting you go either. I know what you’re working on, and I want your intel. Join my crew.” It wasn’t a question, it was a demand, and by the way he was talking to her that was very obvious.

“What’s in it for me?” She inquired like she had a choice.

“You can do some more of your research, and we could use your intel,” He stated like it was obvious. “Everybody wins.” Unfortunately, he was right. Going island to island would be great for her research, and it would give her an opportunity to get first count perspective about the things she was writing about. For a pirate, the information that she held would be very helpful, they would never go into a situation blind. However, being a pirate was not appealing. If she joined the Heart Pirates, she’d surely be wanted, especially with the information that she had collected over the years. She had been able to keep the things that she knew on the low, only occasionally being visited by certain people who wanted intel, but the intel always came at a price. It was a very hush-hush thing. Putting aside the fact that she knew more than most about what was going on in the world, she was just an ordinary woman with no devil fruit, no haki, how was she supposed to be a wanted woman? After mulling over his words, she finally spoke up, “I don’t think you know what I do. I’m gathering information to add to a book. I am not a pirate. I don’t have any fighting techniques, I would die as soon as we hit the battlefield. I will slow you down, no information is worth dying for, or putting your crew in danger for,” she argued, trying to convince herself if she made herself look like a burden, she would be let go.

“Your knowledge outweighs your weaknesses,” he stated. He wasn’t budging on this matter. “Join my crew, and you’ll get to gain more knowledge about the world. Think about the intel you could get if you were traveling the seas?” Once again, he did make a very good point.

“What if I say no?” She asked, wondering if he’d confirm her suspicions. A pregnant silence fell over the room again. She knew she wasn’t getting out of this one, and this just might be the death of her.

“You don’t want to say no.” He left it at that, and finished cleaning her wounds and patching her up.

That was six months ago. Six months of being on this submarine. Six months ago and she still didn’t feel as if she belonged, still felt as if she served no purpose. Sure after the first month, her crew mates started to adore her with her little jokes and random fun facts, but what was she really doing out on the open ocean? She sat there pondering until a voice ripped her out of her head. “You enjoying the Principles of Neurology?” It was her dear captain. She didn’t know he had been standing there, watching her unmovingly stare at the same page. She looked up at him, and then back down at the page she had been staring at for what felt like forever. “Sure, I’m having a blast learning about…The Neurology of Aging,” she read out the chapter name.

“What are you doing down here?” her captain asked her, curiosity lacing his tone.

“This is my secret hiding place, don’t tell the others,” she mused at him. Their relationship was very professional, and in fact for the first month and a half she was on the Polar Tang, she hardly said a word to him outside of him asking for information about various people and places. It’s not like she had a choice or not to be on the damned submarine. It still didn’t feel quite right to be there, but in the past few months she had started to let her guard down. She always addressed her captain with a professional tone, but every now and then she’d throw in a bit of a playful tone, and most times he would entertain her antics. “What are you doing down here?” she asked. She looked at her captain, taking in his appearance. She couldn’t lie, he was a very attractive man. Whenever she would have thoughts like this she would kick herself. She would remind herself who he was. He was her captain, and that’s all that was.

He looked down at her, discreetly looking her up and down, “I was looking for you. I would like to discuss some information about an island we will be arriving to in the next few days. There is an epidemic there and I will need all the information you have on the island, and the citizens so that we can take the proper precautions upon arrival.” His voice echoed off the metal walls.

“Oh okay, let me go up and grab my notes,” She said as she got up from her box, folding the blanket and placing the Neurology book on top.

“Meet me in my office,” he ordered, as he turned to go up the ladder. She made her way into her bunk and pulled out a notebook and a binder filled with stuff about all the islands she knew about. They were organized by North Blue, South Blue, East Blue, West Blue, Grandline, and New World. She gathered all her things and made her way towards Captain Law’s office.

She entered the Captain’s Quarters with a binder that was bursting at the seams, holding all her notes. As she walked in she took in her surroundings. It wasn’t the first time she had been in the Captain’s Quarters, but everytime she had been in there it was only for a brief period, usually dropping off files and papers from her research. Papers were stacked high on his desk, and there were files and books scattered across the room. It was messy, but it was not dirty. The room smelled like paper, ink, and Law.

She made her way over to his desk and started to flip through her binder. The binder was as full as it could be, and while the different places were organized, the contents of the binder within her neatly divided sections were scrawls of writing and small sketches here and there. “So, where we going?” She asked, beaming. She loved talking about all the things she had researched. She loved gathering information and putting it all together. Her goal was to write a full encyclopedia on the world and maybe one day she could write about the One Piece, if it was ever found. Without looking up, Law answered, “Bronze Island.” She was aware of the location, and she was also very aware of the disease that spread through the island, almost 60% of cases were fatal.

She flipped to the section where the island’s information was found, hesitantly inhaling before stating, “Uhh… I don’t think you want to go there.” Law looked up at her for the first time since she had entered his office, feigning annoyance behind his eyes. “I do think I want to go there,” He countered. She didn’t argue with him, he was the captain after all, but this island was being raided by pestilence.

“This disease has a high mortality rate, and it’s more contagious than the common cold. It’s an airborne disease. It spread mostly through bodily fluids,” she spouted off. “The island has poor air quality which just adds to the mix, making the citizens’ immune systems weaker. The island’s government is riddled with corrupt officials. There have been many uprisings staged, but none of them have aided in the ridding of the corrupt officials,” She set the paper in front of her captain. “If you have any questions, let me know. I’ll leave the rest of these pages to you,” she took a stack of papers out of the binder and laid them on his desk. There must have been at least 20 of them. The pages consisted of information about the epidemic, information on the citizens, as well the island officials. Law looked through the papers, before setting them back down. She used that as her cue to leave, and went towards the door, “Just let me know when you’re done with them.”

“Where are you going?” He asked her as if it were normal for her to stay. He never asked her to stay after giving him her research. He usually just looked at them and returned them. They shared eye contact for a split second before he answered her unasked question of why. “I’m going to need your help on this one.” Without replying, she turned back towards him and sat in a chair that was in front of his desk. The chair was hardly broken in, and it was obvious her captain didn’t really enjoy visitors all that much in his study, unless necessary. A dull sense of pride bubbled up inside of her, hearing that he needed her help. For a second she was able to push aside the feeling of not belonging on this ship. Her captain picked up the pages that she had given him and handed them back to her. “Let’s start with the island officials.” (Y/n) flipped through the papers getting to the officials section of her research, and started spouting off the names and the roles they played within the island’s government. She didn’t know what her captain was planning, nor did she think she wanted to know what he was planning. She was still new to this pirate thing, new to the notion that sometimes some people will get hurt in the crossfire. Hell, she was almost one of those people.

Brushing off her thoughts she skimmed across the paper, coming across some grammatical errors. “Captain Law?” A comfortable softness laced her tone as he caught her eyes. He had never heard her voice sound so sweet, so warm. His heart almost melted. “Could I borrow a pencil?” She asked him, holding his gaze with hers. He mumbled a quick of course before holding the object towards her. She reached out to take it, the tips of her fingers brushing his. When they touched, a jolt of electricity shocked them both. His golden eyes met hers once again, but lingered for a second too long this time. Long enough for her eyes to travel down to his lips, and then back up to his eyes. It felt as if time stood still. It felt like it was the first time she had really taken a good look at her captain since that night 3 months ago. She pulled her attention away, muttering a quick thank you as she took the pencil, hoping the lighting in his office didn’t capture the slight pink dusting her cheeks. She internally kicked herself for letting her eyes travel, for letting herself put him on a pedestal in her mind, even if it was only for a split second. It was wrong in so many ways, she couldn’t let herself think about him in that way. She couldn’t let her guard down. Mutually ignoring their little moment, they both resumed to what they were doing.

After about 2 hours of going through the information about the island and it’s government, as well as its citizens, they wrapped up their work. “Would you like me to leave you these papers?” She asked him. Without looking up from all of the notes that he had taken, he let a single, “Yes,” fall from his lips. She nodded, and put the papers on his desk. “If you have any questions, you know where to find me,” As she was about to make her exit, she heard her name being called. She turned her head to look at her captain, unintentionally savoring the way her name rolled off his tongue. “Thank you for the help,” he said smoothly, hesitating before continuing, “And if you ever need a place to hide, don’t hesitate to come in here to read or to finish your research.” She smiled and nodded her head as the feeling of belonging settled in her core for the second time that night. “Thank you, if you ever need anymore help I’m more than happy to do so,” she replied trying to sound as professional as possible in order to combat the warm feeling that was starting to bubble in her stomach. She turned on her heel and made her way back to her bunk.

That night, against her will, her thoughts were consumed by her captain and the moment they had shared. She felt guilty feeling this way, it wasn’t right to feel borderline giddy as she recalled such minor events. Sure, maybe their fingers touched, and maybe he made her feel like she belonged for once, but it was a moral dilemma just waiting to happen. Internally, she berated herself for even thinking about her captain in that way. Despite her self berating, she let her thoughts drift to her captain as she stared at the metal ceiling. There was a comfortable air around him, one she didn’t like to acknowledge that often. He felt safe, but she knew he could be dangerous. He seemed sane, but she knew he wasn’t. She was aware the longer she stayed with the Heart Pirates the more she let her guard down, and that included Law. She surely was trusted if he was offering to share his quiet space. She thought about how he offered it to her, with softer words than his usual tone. No matter how hard she tried to shake the doctor from her thoughts she couldn’t. That night, she went to sleep with Trafalgar Law taking up the space where her dreams usually lay.

Down the hall, in the captain quarters, Law mulled over what he had said to her before she left the room. It wasn’t like him to just offer someone a place in his study like that. Law worked alone. It was his space. That was the one place he was guaranteed to get some peace and quiet. What was even more strange was that he didn’t even regret offering his space to her. In fact, he was hoping that she would take him up on it and spend her time there instead of in the boiler room. He pushed his thoughts away, rationalizing his offer as just an excuse to gather more of the information she held. If she were to come to the office for peace and quiet, it was inevitable for her to work there too. He told himself that was the real reason he had offered it, rather not acknowledging the warmth he felt when he was around her. He pushed his thoughts away and buried himself in his work for the night, every now and then thinking about his crew member. The feeling that was tugging in his chest would have to be for another day.

⋆⭒˚‧₊˚°❀⋆₊⊹ ⋆｡𖦹˚. ͟͟͞☆

@drakulana 2023 // i do not give permission to copy, translate, or repost without my consent

[bonefall]

Bones Bones Bonesss wc Star full book spoilers already out in the wild (forums)......... Looking forward to your thoughts when it officially comes out (or whenever!) cause. I will not say. But ohhhhhh it sure was a book............ :33

You know I'll also be doing a full read when I get my grubby paws on a copy, but I do have some strong feelings assuming that the leaks are totally accurate!

The no-spoiler version of my opinion; BOY this ending is a stinker. This arc truly was a blundering mess of lost potential and wasted time. As someone who still feels the first few books were STRONG setups, from 3 onwards I feel like I've been watching a train run out of track and derail in a slow, pitiful fashion.

It's not even a FAST trainwreck. The ending was predictable insofar as they clearly had no good climax or message in mind. Infact it's kind of a marvel how utterly bloodless this arc was, and how any violence they DID show came out of left field because they failed to build up to it.

HOWEVER. I am not just a reader, I'm a scavenger. This stuff is GREAT for BB. The ending gave me the most important pieces I need, and now I know how BB!ASC is going to rework it.

But I'll not get ahead of myself; quickly, I'll just talk raw first impressions of the spoilers.

(As always, take this with a grain of salt and the knowledge that the spoilers may be incorrect. Opinions may change once I read the book myself.)

Splashstar is a garbage villain. He is absolutely bottom-tier for me.

His "amorality" comes out of nowhere and quite frankly he reads like a Chick Tract Evil Atheist.

I don't get how people can accept the way the characters call him "manipulative" when his plots are utterly brainless.

He is the type of naunceless evil that makes me want to hurl. Splash reads like a writer trying to "repeat" the evil of Tigerstar without any of the intelligence of early TPB.

Tigerstar was a RESPECTED warrior. He leveraged his standing in the Clan to secretly carry out his assassinations and forge alliances. He was established strong to begin with.

Splash is like cat-18 and able to kill-no-miss strong warriors with his Evil Jump, and then keeps the Clan in line by holding his siblings hostage.

It makes me not understand how he has ANY followers, because he has no consistent ideology or rhetoric.

Anything they did use (like claiming he'd make the Clans strong and saying tigerheartstar wanted to take over the whole forest or whatever) isn't consistent because they failed to establish these over the SIX BOOKS THEY HAD.

It feels like he was only a legitimate threat for like 2 out of 6 books

And then he's dead in chapter 13. Halfway through the story. Incredibly lame.

I want to reserve my judgement on the Frostpaw vs Splashstar battle, but it's absurd on its face. Harelight went down in 1 hit but Frostpaw musters all her strength to use his move and overcome him?

I have to see it first before I conclude if it's something I want to salvage though. Sometimes fights just come across better when you're reading them.

But on the note of battles, it's frustrating how bloodless this arc was. We started off with tigerHeartstar invading and occupying RiverClan-- yet we're looking at a total body count of 5, with one heart attack and one illness.

And speaking of deaths.

Whoever decided to give Berryheart a redemption death should get offscreen greencough.

UTTER shite. You have this whole arc with radicalization as a major theme, show Berryheart trying to brutally murder her in-law with a snake, grabbing at power desperately to the point where she CHANGED CLANS to be Splash's deputy, and decide that her ideal ending is "she would die for her baby :(((("???

Ffffuuuuuck yoouuuuuuuuuuuu

This is why we can't have good, nuanced villains, these writers trip over themselves the MINUTE they have a sad parent. It could never actually STAY about power or politics, they cant allow a parent to truly be willing to sacrifice their child for their own ends.

No matter how badly or violently they treated you, They're Still Your Parent. Hogwash. I'm sick to death of this thought-terminating cliche.

Being a parent does NOT automatically mean they'd die for you. They already did this earlier with Curlfeather, and the absolute insult it is to the theme of radicalization aside, having Berryheart repeat that sacrifical death cheapens hers.

Now it's not that CURLFEATHER is the one who would never go so far as to allow her daughter to die for her own ends, contrasting Berryheart. It's Just What Moms Do.

And furthermore if they were going to do a "redemption death," it REALLY sucks that they decided to have Berryheart refuse to kill Yarrowleaf and not FRINGEWHISKER.

It's not even indicative of GROWTH or RECONSIDERING HER BELIEFS or anything. She won't kill her SISTER.

It might have meant something to have a chance for revenge and refuse it, but nooooo. Yarrowleaf. My god. Yarrowleaf.

and don't @ me about Yarrow being ex-kin, they both joined and rejected it at different times.

All that said...

There are some things I like here!

Frostdawn and Whistlebreeze getting their names at the same time was really sweet. I like them a lot.

Sometimes a predictable choice is the right one. Icewing becoming leader is a good move. Icestar my beloved.

I'm personally excited to get to Icey's leadership ceremony in my own rewrite, the canon one was as fanservice-wanky as you'd expect of modern arcs but I LOVE rewriting those.

Though I would have preferred Froststar, I'm ok with this.

The fracturing of RiverClan is a great move. I love the idea of there being a mass exodus following these events. It's wild we haven't gotten that before.

While I bemoan the awful politics and lack of setup, I do LIKE the idea on paper of there being "ex-Splash Supporters" to cause problems in future arcs. Not that these writers know what setup and payoff is, but hey, more for me.

I liked the sort of desperate feel of Frostpaw being exhausted in StarClan and deciding if she wants to go back or not. Im a little iffy on how much other cats PRESSURE her, though.

I need to read the chapters myself but I fear that it might not read like her own choice, but another thing that she's being forced into.

Shut UP Tree why are you HEREEE

The part where they all point out that without her, RiverClan wont have a holy messenger and that's bad, fits the consistent way the writers try to portray StarClan as a good thing when they're really not... but.

I think it would have made a fascinating moment for Frosty to realize that SHE is the one who really holds the power in this situation. What spirituality is going to look like in the future of her Clan is in HER paws now.

They are absolutely going to toss this potential away, but I guess the things I like most about the ending are the ways it kinda softly threatens the status quo.

The fracture of RC and the exodus of cats, Frostpaw deciding she will return and fix RiverClan, Icestar accepting help from the other Clans to fix the camp...

It's not ALL bad, it's just that the negatives outweigh the positives and this is exactly the kind of ending I feared. I hope that this isn't just a tease of a change to the status quo, but I've learned to not get my hopes up.

And, lastly, Owlnose deputy and Nightheart's ending chapter are just straight up beyond parody. I can't even be mad, they're such bad moves they're funny to me at this point.

[pandagyaru]

What we use to be..

Pairing: Jasper x Implied Nonbinary/Male reader (Not really specified but like its a major plot point here that the reader isn't a woman)

Rating: None

Type: Angst to fluff

"Get away from me. I never wanna see you again" The words. His tone. The hatred in his eyes. It still haunts you to your core, even tho it was centuries ago. You'll never forget the way he made you feel that night. You pleaded with him, asked him to give you a reason to his sudden coldness; but he didn't answer. All he did was slam the door in your face and cast you aside, like some poor rabbit you drained the blood of. Now centuries later, you move to a new area. Pretending to be a high school student. You just needed to leave your last home, throwing away everything that you kept to remember him by; all but one thing. A locket he gifted you with a picture of him in it. The picture is old and faded now, yellowed and on the verge of withering away but you keep it dearly, can't bring yourself to part with it. It clings to your neck like a lifeline, you sometimes fidget with it out of habit.

You sit in your classroom alone, the bell hasn't even rang yet but you stare out the window; watching as rain drops race each other to the window sill. Students start pouring into the class, taking their seats. You look over to see a girl with long brown hair sits next to you. She smiles at you and waves awkwardly.

"I'm bella" She says, laying her notebooks down on the desk. You smile at her and raise your hand to her. She takes it.

"Im (Y/N), I just moved here" You state. She chuckles a little and gives you a jokingly weird look.

"out of all places to move, you pick forks? this place is like the last place I'd wanna move" She says, tucking her hair behind her ear. You look away from her and sigh.

"I needed a fresh start, and I quite like the doom and gloom of this place" You half joke, turning to her and smiling wide. You don't know what it is about this girl, but you like her. The bell rings just as the teacher steps in the room, ending yours and Bella's playful chatter.

By the time Lunch rolls around, you're hanging by Bella and her friends. They seem to take a liking to you immediately. You like them also, they bring a nice aura around that you need. That is until, you feel eyes on you. You look around to see gold eyes staring at you. Bella looks over with you.

"Don't mind him, that's my boyfriend Edward" She explains, slowly waving at him. He waves back. but you're not really paying attention him. If you had a heart, it would've stopped again. There sitting next to Edward, was Jasper. He has a pretty brunette attached to his arm, he looks happy. You feel a pang in your chest at the thought, he's over there happy and you can't get over him. You grab a hold of the locket on your chest, rubbing the metal on it to calm yourself. You look away from him, missing the way that Edward gets his attention.

"Do you know them?" Edward asks him, pointing to you. Jasper looks over and thinks. You lift your head a bit to look at Jessica as she compliments your locket. Jasper's eyes snap to it, it looks so familiar to him; yet he can't place it. Then he sees it, the big J carved into it messily. His mouth falls open slightly and he stands up. His chair scrapes the floor slightly and it catches the attention of your whole table. You and Jasper make eye contact, he has no doubt that it's you. You still look the same as the day he lost you, to his own thoughts and insecurities. He walks over to you and grabs your arm, lifting you up and dragging you to an empty room. You try to break free, yelling at him to let go. He pins you to a desk and just stares at you. You push at his chest, God you're lucky you can't cry or you'd be sobbing right now. He grabs your chin and makes you look at him.

"What are you doing here?" He whispers to you. You blink at him and don't answer. He looks so pretty in this light, even when he's practically holding you hostage. He shakes you slightly "ANSWER ME" You flinch and look him in the eyes.

"Why'd you leave me?" You mutter. He breaks eye contact with you and lets go of your wrists. He paces the space in front of you.

"it was 1861, people weren't exactly open to what we were back then" He mutters, but you catch it. Of course you do.

"We could've worked it out! Clearly were both here now! We could've lasted Jasper!" You yell at him. He looks over at you, slamming you into the desk again.

"Did you suspect we'd both be here now? 142 years later?!" He shouts in your face. You look down.

"No, I never thought i'd see you again. I thought you'd only live on as a memory or a photo I kept" You whisper. He looks down at the locket, he grips it and opens it. There it is, a picture of a 17 year old him. He stares at it and then looks at you. He grabs your face, kissing you. You freeze and stare at him. Slowly your eyes close and wrap your arms around him, pulling him closer. That is until you remember the girl that was attached to him, you push him away; wiping your mouth.

"What about the girl that was hanging onto your arm?!" You say, staring him down. He looks at you, thinking and then he starts laughing at you.

"That girl is one of my sisters, I swear nothing like that is going on. I haven't been able to stop thinking of you. ever since that day I lost you, due to my own selfishness" He says, grabbing you and just embracing you. You lean into him and hug him back.

"We'll be okay?" You ask. He looks at you.

"We'll be okay"

So uhm, how was that? I've got bad Twilight brain rn and I think its cause its fall. Yes, they are implied to be a fated pair, even before they were turned. also I'm sorry if its bad, I haven't written in forever.

LOVE YA

[toomuchracket]

office nerd saying “I love you” for the first time…

here, have a fic <3

i'm in love with you (office nerd matty x reader fluff)

you collapse into giggles as the song ends, hugging the girls before excusing yourself to get a drink. matty looks up from the conversation he's having with his dad, grinning as you make your way towards him and the table, lip syncing and nodding in time to the girls aloud song that's just begun; he slides your chair out in anticipation of you, kissing your head when you sit down. “alright, darling?”

“yeah. that was fun,” you down the last of your diet coke, turning to face the men. “christ, i'm thirsty. anyone want another drink?”

“finish my pint, if you want,” matty moves to stand, gathering some of the empty glasses. “i'll get the refills.”

you start to protest, but tim gently pats your hand and shakes his head. “let him, pet, you got the last round. which is deplorable, by the way, matthew. you should be spoiling her.”

tim winks at you as he finishes talking, clearly taking the piss; that fact seems to bypass his eldest, though, currently blushing beet-red and scoffing. “yeah, thanks for that, dad,” matty turns to you, face softening. his cheeks still stay rosy, however. “what d'you fancy, darling? aside from me, i mean.”

“daft boy,” you shake your head at the same time tim mutters “fuck's sake”, before you smile genuinely at matty and reach to kiss his hand. “surprise me.”

“alright,” comes the reply, followed by a forehead kiss. “be back in a minute. dad, you want anything?”

“i'm alright, thanks, son.”

“sweet.”

as your boyfriend hurries off, curls bouncing as he weaves his way towards the bar, you take a sip of the guinness he left you, doing your best not to wince at how bad the pour is. tim notices anyway, and chuckles. “that dublin trip ruined the pair of yous - matty made the exact same face when he started on that pint.”

you smile. “we had a good time, though. and,” shuffling in your seat, you take another sip of the pint (it's not that bad) and smirk. “matty spoiled me rotten, just in case you were worried about that. paid for everything. carried my shopping bags. lifted me over puddles so i didn't get wet. the whole shebang.”

“he lifted you over puddles?”

“well, he offered to. you know what he's like.”

��aye. daft as a brush.”

“i was gonna say ‘very sweet’, but yeah, you’re right too.”

tim laughs, patting your hand again. “i’m glad yous two have each other, pet. and that we all get to know you - you're a diamond.”

your heart glows, and you squeeze his hand in a wordless thank you; wordless, because a lump seems to be forming in your throat in response to the kindness of his words. it dissipates when you clear your throat, and you speak. “he makes me really happy,” you look across to the bar, where you can see matty talking animatedly with one of his cousins. there's a cosy, loving energy throughout the room, more potent than at any other wedding you've been to, and you like being surrounded by it. “and so does being here, with all of you. i feel proper part of it, you know? s'nice.”

tim smiles. “that's because you are, pet.”

“she's what?” matty returns, and carefully lays the ice bucket on the table in front of you before sitting down and kissing your cheek. “perfect? i agree, dad.”

snuggling into him, you giggle, and you can feel his lips stretch into a smile against your forehead. “not quite, darling.”

“well, i think you are,” he kisses your forehead properly and leans back to look at you. fuck, he is so beautiful. “come outside for a bit? i need a cig.”

“yeah, alright,” you stand, gesturing to the wine in the bucket of ice. “we taking that?”

matty nods, picking it up. “bring a couple of glasses, babe. we'll be back in a bit, dad, yeah?”

“aye,” tim nods. “your mam seems to be holding your brother hostage on the dancefloor. i’ll see if i can rescue him.”

your boyfriend laughs. “yeah, good luck with that one. right,” he holds his free hand out to you, and you clasp it eagerly. “ready, darling?”

“mhmm,” you shove your bag onto your shoulder, waving to tim before scooping up two coupé glasses. “see you in a little bit!”

tim nods. “bye, pet.”

after saying his own goodbye to his dad, matty begins to lead you through the crowded room, towards the french doors open to the summer evening. the air is cool when you step out, a refreshing change from the heat indoors, and the setting sun is turning the clouds a beautiful shade of pinky-orange.

you stop just around the corner from the door you exited, next to a quaint little wrought-iron bench and side table. matty lays the bucket on the latter, and you follow suit with the glasses before rifling through your handbag for the cigarettes of matty's you've been safekeeping all day; you light one, taking a drag of it yourself before you pass it to him. “oh, christ, i forgot i had lippy on. sorry, baby.”

“s'alright, darling. you know i love it when you cover things in lipstick marks,” matty happily takes the red-rimmed cig from you, taking a couple of drags and passing it back to you so he can open the bottle. “tempted to get one tatted on me, if i'm honest.”

you snort. “where?”

“dunno yet. arsecheek?”

“you're an idiot,” you scoff, watching him fiddle with the foil over the bottle cork; your eyes widen when you read the label. “a proper, proper idiot, actually. champagne?! i thought it was prosecco! jesus christ, matty, how much did that cost?”

he just smiles demurely, twisting the cork out of the bottle almost professionally. “well, it's your favourite. what kind of boyfriend would i be if i didn't get my girl the things she loves?”

“a sane one,” you mutter, giggling when he flicks your nose. “but thank you, angel, i appreciate it.”

“anything for you, my gorgeous girl,” matty hands you a glass, clinking it against his own and kissing you quickly. “shall we sit?”

you nod, letting him settle down on the bench before settling yourself on his lap as gracefully as you can. for a moment or two, there's peaceful silence between the two of you, soundtracked only by the birds chirping in the nearby trees, the muffled music playing through the wall behind you, the soft exhales of cigarette smoke and sipping of champagne. it's not cold by any means, but you snuggle into matty anyway, resting your head in the crook of his neck and savouring the way his arm moves around to pull you tighter against him. you can hear the buzz of laughter from inside, and the dj inviting the newlyweds onto the floor “for another dance”; it's a reminder of the happy occasion that brought you to this exact moment, dressed up in your finery and cosied up to your sweetheart of a boyfriend, looking out over lush greenery, vision tinted golden by the evening sky and lips flavoured sweet by the champagne.

it's so idyllic, so cosy, so fucking perfect, in fact, that you barely register the words when they seem to flow of their own accord from your lips. “mmm, i love you.”

matty's breath catches in his throat, his body tensing around you; your throat muscles follow a beat later, panic setting in as you realise what you just said and growing when you register his reaction. you sit up as best you can, turning to talk to him, and the slight frown on his face breaks your heart. “matty, i-”

“no,” he shakes his head, eyes closed, and you feel tears prick at your own. after an inhale, he looks at you - bemusingly, there's a small smile on his face. “you just had to go and steal my fucking moment, didn't you?”

you sniffle. “what?”

matty beams, laying his cigarette in the ashtray and his drink on the table. his hands come up to cup your face, thumbs gently wiping the tears pooling at your lower lashline; his expression is even more gentle, pretty eyes sparkling. “i love you too, darling. was gonna tell you once i'd finished the cig. been working up to it all day, actually.”

oh.

“shit,” you press your forehead to his, giggling with embarrassment. “sorry, baby. just… couldn't not say it, you know? it felt right.”

“i know, angel, i know,” matty coos, kissing the bridge of your nose. “m'glad you did, yeah? i mean, how could i not be? the girl i'm in love with is in love with me, too. doesn't get any better.’

“yeah, it does.”

“oh?” matty grins, moving you so you're straddling him. “elaborate for me, baby.”

you beam. “she's gonna be in love with you forever.”

your boyfriend laughs, pulling you in for a kiss. “and it's reciprocated, believe me,” he reaches across to grab the champagne glasses, clinking his off yours. “to us, then. i love you!”

giggling, you nod, and take a sip. “i love you too.”

[reds-skull]

Fic recs - oneshots (part 4)

I'm currently in like, a lot of pain (...don't ask), so what better way to distract myself than cataloging some fics!

Last time I said I'll do a list of writers, but I noticed that so much time has passed that I've collected enough oneshots for another post like this, so I'm doing this first.

A couple of ones here are from shadowforest-wolf's lists, go check these posts out if you want more recs!

As always, sfw oneshots, if there are any dead links you need fixing let me know!

Sea of Love by MiddlemistsRed (chiakashie) - Soap keeps dying in Al Mazrah and Ghost reincarnates each time to save him.

Offhand Remarks by bisexual_werewolf - Ghost doesn’t think Soap is a good enough soldier. Soap tries his best to fix that. (Spoilers: It doesn’t work)

You'd Be the Mercy Under My Cruelty by ajax_in_agony - Ghost takes care of Soap in the aftermath of "Alone".

TV. by Kodalax - Ghost thinks Soaps mad at him so he distances himself as much as possible and clams up like he’s a child again. [this is a series with a second work from Soap's POV]

where the nightmares end by oh_ellie - Soap is sitting up in his bed, the sheets shoved off of his body and sweat beading on his forehead and running down his temple. It's dark in his room and far too quiet.

taken a shine to me? by oh_ellie - Soap is captured by Graves during alone [this has a second work which is nsfw]

Eleven by VibeDemon - Ghoap get stuck in an elevator. [this is just a little funny one :)]

He's The Gift That Just Keeps Giving! by StrixDaddy - some hurt/comfort featuring Christmas fluff.

Hold On To Me by iamtheidiot - That's when he saw it. A goddamn fucking knife sticking out of the man's right side, his arm at an angle like he was trying to conceal the thing from Soap.

Ghostly Music by oh_heccity - A 5+1 where Soap helps Ghost learn to have a healthy relationship with music, it, of course, has its ups and downs.

My heart in your hands keeps going on by FetteEule - 5 times Ghost is forced to go on leave and 1 time he takes leave on purpose.

Bleeding Sands by Islenthatur - What if Soap was one of the 15 who survived Operation Sand Viper [COD Ghosts Soap]

notre dame by merikai - Soap is stuck under rubble, but it takes a while until someone comes to the rescue.

heaven help the fool who falls in love by merikai - Soap has a "girl". Ghost tries to find out more.

leave it to the land by merikai - “Hypothermic,” Ghost mutters, more to himself as a note than to Soap. “You're delirious. Need to get you warmed up.”

no shortage of sordid by merikai - Hassan's men have taken Soap hostage—but there are things worse than this.

Dehiscence (Opening of a Wound) by made1for1life1 - Johnny knows his mind doesn't work the same as other people's. Maybe he just needs to try harder. Trying harder is a lot harder than he thought.

A quick game of chess by cheersyaslag - when Ghost tells him to shut up, he doesn't exactly know why it hurts so damn much. Maybe he's being too sensitive. But he does shut up. He will do as he's told for once.

Observations and Ink by Fearless_leaderr - He shifts nervously as the other man flips through the pages, and Soap can feel sweat begin to collect on his brow. "Didn't know you could draw like this, Johnny."

Still got like 3 days until I finish the semester, but I already got so many ideas for comics and drawings and fics it's not even funny. I'm gonna have so much fun once I'm finally done with my work T_T

[jeonsweetpea]

Moonstruck (15) - Final Chapter

Werewolf & Vampire Hybrid!AU, Supernatural!AU | Hybrid!Jungkook x Hybrid!Reader | Werewolf!Taehyung x Hybrid!Reader (ft. BTS)

genre: angst, e2l, supernatural, thriller, slow burn

rating: mature

description: Heavy decisions fall on you when Taehyung throws you one last curveball. Do you say goodbye or do you stay?

word count: 10.2k

warnings: contains SPOILERS!!! Multiple POV changes, compulsion, mention of blood, mention of death, it’s very angsty, the ending is bittersweet – pls understand i poured my heart into this and it’s okay not to like it or comment about it, i tried to cover all plot holes :)

a/n: This is the final chapter of my series Moonstruck. I’ve been writing this story on and off for YEARS, so if you’ve stuck around this long, thank you! I’m aware people might be upset at the ending and that’s okay! My OC isn’t perfect and the point is she chose her own happiness for once. Please be kind, as I plan to write an epilogue in the future that can also be read as a stand-alone (with all the werewolf smut a reader could dream of lol).

Moonstruck Series Masterlist

“Let me go to Jimin. Please.”

Her voice was frail, broken, desperate. You caved into her pleas, seeing as she was in no condition to fight. Whatever happened between her, Jimin, and Jungkook must’ve been brutal. It’s amazing she was still standing, but as she limped towards her lover, her legs gave way from exhaustion.

Still, she persisted and crawled the remaining distance to hold her dying boyfriend in her arms. You walked over to them, finding the moment tender and beautiful despite the circumstances. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll fix everything,” she said, smiling through her tears. Jimin could barely utter her name, but she shushed him. “Save your strength.”

She pulled out an artifact from her pocket that you recalled from your studies and gasped. 

“Is that…?” you started to say. She didn’t answer you and looked up towards the sky. You followed her gaze to see streaks of shooting stars across the velvet night sky. 

“Tonight’s a meteor shower,” Ari said, as if she was anticipating it. “A celestial event will fix everything.”

You tore your gaze away from the sky to see blood dripping from her nose onto the circular artifact. From what you remembered, it was called an Ascendant. Combined with the blood from a Choi witch and the cosmic power of a celestial event, a portal to a prison world was possible. 

“No. You’re not serious!” you exclaimed. 

“It’s the only way to save him,” she said, running a hand through his hair with a fond expression. “To save us.”

“So what? You’re going to live out the rest of your days with someone who doesn’t even love you?! He’s going to die over and over. That’s not a way to live.”

Prison worlds were just that — a hell with no escape. Death was a pleasure one wasn’t able to experience there. It was a place for banishment, home for the worst of the worst. 

Ari looked you dead in the eye. “He’s my first love. I intend to be his last.”

In this moment, you knew this was your best friend talking and not some demented evil version of her. She was dying because Jimin was dying and if she wanted to be tethered to a prison world the rest of her days, who were you to stop her?

Almost as if she could hear your thoughts, she added, “I’ve done too much to be forgiven for. Let me go.”

She deserved it. She deserved to rot there with him. So you weren’t going to deny her wishes, only prolong them. You bent down and swiped the Ascendant from her hand, holding it hostage. 

“No.” Your voice was unwavering. She stared at you aghast, like you committed the most terrible sin.

“[Y/N]!”

“You want to abandon all the problems you exacerbated? No. I’m tired of this bullshit. If anyone gets to run away from this mess, it’s me. Now you better give me a solution…” You held the artifact high, threatening to smash it into smithereens. “Or else.”

“Stop, stop!” she begged.

“I’m waiting. The meteor shower will be over soon. Tick. Tock.”

She glanced down at Jimin, reaching her hand up to his neck to grab the amulet. With a forceful tug, she yanked it off him and handed it to you.

“Here! This will solve everything. I promise!”

You took the amulet from her, your eyes watching her every movement in case she tried to pull something. “How?”

“I sense someone trapped within it. Someone who has an energy signature similar to you… I’m not sure, but I think it’s your father.”

Your entire body froze. “How is that possible? How do I release him?”

A faint click sound captured your attention. You lowered your hand and stared at the Ascendant, watching the gears rotate into place, the cosmic energy from the meteor shower beaming straight into it. A relieved smile graced Ari’s features as she closed her eyes. 

“No, wait!” You were too late. A bright flash temporarily blinded you and once you opened your eyes again, Ari and Jimin had vanished, leaving behind only a burned Ascendant. 

Mora Miserium…

Ari’s words rang loud in your ears, though you had no idea what they meant.

However, the amulet was still in your hand. You dangled it in front of you, paying attention to its alluring glow. It seemed to shine brighter the closer it was to your face, like it was attracted to something. You realized your moonstone was reacting to it, so you placed them near each other, igniting a burst of energy that knocked you backwards. Groaning, you sat up to see a figure manifest before your very eyes—a ghost you never thought you’d see again as your eyes flooded with tears.

“Dad…?”

“My little miracle… come here.”

You stumbled while getting up and rushed into his warm embrace, crying your heart out. 

“Where have you been all this time? I missed you so much. I lost my best friend and—and—” You hiccuped from talking so fast. He held you by the shoulders. “I know, sweetheart. I know. I was in your necklace. Trapped, actually.”

“But how?”

“Nevermind that. I’ll take Jungkook to the infirmary. You go release the professors, Hoseok, and Jiwoo. I’ll explain everything.”

You obeyed your father’s instructions, releasing everyone from their cages in the underground cellar. Everyone was quick to ask you what was going on, the noise unbearable. There were too many questions, apologies, concerns — the chaos finally stopped when your father appeared after dropping Jungkook off. 

“[F/N]...” Jin and Yoongi embraced your father tight, afraid it was a dream. Once they released him, Hoseok and his sister gave an awkward introduction but were friendly nevertheless. 

“Where the hell have you been?” Yoongi asked, giving him a punch in the arm. Your father, quick with his reflexes, caught his fist. 

With a soft smile, he replied, “In [Y/N]’s moonstone,” Jin dropped his jaw so wide that it almost made you laugh. “I know, I know. It’s a lot. But let’s heal the injured first. I took Jungkook to the infirmary and patched him up. [Y/N]?”

“Yes, Dad?”

“Heal Namjoon. I know he’s treated you awfully and you don’t have to forgive him—”

“But he was compelled,” you said, finishing his statement. “So everything that’s happened… isn’t his fault. I’ll heal him.”

You bit your wrist, devoid of the pain it usually brought and lowered yourself to Namjoon’s limp body on the ground. You lifted his head gently, placing your wrist on his mouth and making sure he was ingesting it. 

“He’ll be fine after some rest,” you said, standing up. 

“Thank you, [Y/N],” Yoongi said, though you didn’t bother sparing him a glance. “I know I should’ve told you about releasing Hoseok but—”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He nodded in understanding and you turned to your father. “Dad, what are we going to do? Jungkook and Taehyung’s lives are linked.”

“What?!” Everyone aside from you and your father was stunned. God, you needed a newsletter or something to keep them all up to date.

“Yeah, yeah,” you said with a dismissive hand gesture. “I’ll explain that later but for right now, I need to unlink them because if one more bad thing happens, I will turn off my humanity again. What can you tell me about Mora Muserium?”

He seemed astonished by the mention of it. “That’s an ancient artifact witches use to remove dark magic and have it contained. I was traveling the world to find it for you, hoping it’d remove the dark magic and help you regain fertility.”

You glared at him and he cleared his throat. 

“I know,” he said, scratching the nape of his neck. “Father of the year right here. I should’ve told you the truth.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t find it.”

“No. I had to find an alternative. There was a witch who gave me the moonstone but said its powers only activate if a werewolf sacrifices his soul.”

“Oh my god,” Hoseok said, placing a hand on his heart. “You were willing to stay inside the stone for the rest of your life if it meant [Y/N] could have children?”

He nodded while giving you a fond smile. “Anything for my little girl. She deserves a life with her needs fulfilled.” Your dad suddenly snapped his head in Hoseok’s direction. “But then you killed her.”

Hoseok held his hands up in surrender while Jiwoo stood in front of him, her protective nature taking over. “Hey. He was manipulated into doing so to save me.”

“Still. The moonstone is useless now for fertility,” your father huffed. 

“Can we please get back to the Mora Muserium?” you said, wanting to pull your hair out from frustration. “We don’t have much time. Taehyung died with my blood in his system and will need to drink it again to complete his transformation. If not, he’ll die and take Jungkook with him!”

“How did their lives become linked?” Jin questioned. 

“The night of the banquet we drank some alcohol that Ari gave us.”

“It must have been dark magic. If we can get the Mora Muserium, we can use it to absorb the dark magic out of Jungkook and sever the connection.”

“Great. But where can we find it? What does it look like?”

“I think I’ve seen it before,” Yoongi chimed in. “It looks like a sand clock of sorts. Like an hourglass.”

“Yes. But the one I was looking for was sold to a private collector,” your father informed.

“I’ve seen it…” The groggy voice came from the floor. Jin rushed to Namjoon’s side, helping him sit up. Aside from the dried blood from his nose, his wounds had lightened and were in the process of healing. “Jimin’s parents. They own an armory full of artifacts. I saw one that looked like an hourglass the day I helped him get the White Oak stake.”

“I’ll go. Tell me the address,” your father stated. “I’m taking Jungkook with me.”

“What? He’s knocked out and needs time to recover.” Your protest fell on deaf ears.

“It’s the least he can do for you. Besides, it gives me time to get to know him. A little heart-to-heart.” He patted your head. “Don’t worry. I’ll wait for him to wake up. You go take care of that bite wound and rest. All of us should rest.”

Jungkook’s Point of View - 12 Hours Later

I woke up in the infirmary sore as hell. Sitting up only exacerbated things, the pain surging through me like fire. My torso was wrapped in bandages and my arm was in a sling. The battle with the bitch witch would’ve gone sideways if Jimin didn't intervene. I barely made it out with my life.

“You’re awake, boy.”

The voice was gruff, unfamiliar. I saw a silhouette from behind the privacy curtain, but I didn’t feel threatened. I could tell he was a werewolf from his scent. 

“Who are you?”

He pulled back the curtain, revealing his face to me. He was far older than me, with streaks of gray in his hair. His stern expression intimidated the shit out of me, but after giving me a once over, his eyes softened and his forehead creased with wrinkles of concern.

“I’m [F/N]. [Y/N]’s dad.”

“Oh,” Shit. This was not how I envisioned meeting him. “She has your eyes.”

A soft chuckle came out of him. “I get that a lot.” He pulled up a chair to sit by my side, the smell of cedarwood filling my nose. “Look, I know a lot has happened around here. I’ve been trapped in that damn moonstone for months.”

I looked at him in horror. “You mean the necklace [Y/N] has? That means you’ve seen…”

I trailed off, but he seemed to understand what I was getting at. He waved his hand in a dismissive manner, his face twisted in disgust. “Yes, yes, there’s a lot I did not wish to see but anyway… not the point. Honestly, part of me wants to strangle you for hurting her.”

I knew my time had to come sometime. Better him than someone else. I closed my eyes and braced myself. 

“But…” He continued, “You and my daughter have been through hell and back. You protected her. Thank you.”

I opened my eyes, trying not to exhale in relief too loudly. “I always will.”

“Do you love her?”

“I do.” My response was so fast; it sounded automated. I noticed [F/N]’s eyes narrowing at me, like he was searching for doubt. 

“Why?”

If I took too long coming up with an answer, that would only make me look ingenuine. I spoke from my heart, keeping my voice steady even though he looked like he could tear me in half at any moment’s notice.

“For the first time in a while, I feel like I can think clearly. The sire bond was like a crutch that made it impossible for me to distinguish my own feelings from [Y/N]’s,” I said, watching for his reaction. He nodded for me to continue. “Now that it’s severed, I feared I would stop loving her. That it was all an illusion. But that’s not the case. I know I love her. So much that it scares me…”

“Even if she’s infertile?”

“I already knew about that. It does not affect how I feel.”

“What about Jimin?”

I’d be damned if I saw that wretched vampire ever again. He manipulated everyone, especially me. Like an idiot. “What about him?”

“You chose to believe his words over my daughter’s. I want to know why.”

He might as well have broken my other arm. I fought the urge to throw up. What did he want me to say? That I was an idiot, that I was manipulated, that I was doubting her because I was a coward?  “I don’t know.”

“Answer me.” He was telling, not asking. But I was stubborn. 

“I said I don’t know.” I did know, of course. However, I didn’t want to shoot myself in the foot. Anything I said would sound like a pathetic excuse.

“Gonna take it to the grave? You don’t have much time left.”

He laughed at my stunned face, as if mocking me. “What do you mean?”

“Your life is linked to that other wolf’s. [Y/N] mentioned something about the night of the banquet where you drank liquor.”

Taehyung. Fuck, fuck, fuck! No wonder that bastard was so elated when I returned. That must have been why I blacked out after clawing him. Though my body was already on the verge of collapsing from the constant battling. 

“Anyway, I’ll get straight to the point,” [F/N]’s said as he stood up. “Taehyung died with my daughter’s blood in his system thanks to you. That means he’s in the middle of transitioning to becoming a hybrid.”

“But it’s incomplete…” I whispered. He nodded, crossing one arm over the other.

“He needs to drink her blood one more time after coming back to life to become a hybrid. If not, he will die. Which in turn means you will die.”

“I gotta see [Y/N].” I practically ripped the covers off me with my good arm, swinging my legs off the cot. However, he placed a firm hand on my shoulder.

“You’re in no condition to leave.”

“She’s going to do whatever it takes to save me, including saving that son of a bitch. He’ll be sired by her, which is what he wants!”

“Yes, but would you rather be dead than see him sired by her? Think straight for a second. We have a mission.”

“What mission?”

“We’re going to go artifact hunting and I need that compulsion ability of yours to succeed. Then I’ll consider letting you see my daughter.”

Of course there was something else. There always was.

Your Point Of View - 12 Hours Later

You slept like a log. Your body was worn down, weathered by the stress and trauma the universe kept sending your way. The only reason you woke up was because your sharp ears picked up the sound of digging. At first, you tried to ignore it. But it was consistent and your curiosity got the best of you.

“Put your back into it,” Yoongi said, sitting on the snow criss-crossed. Jin huffed and set the shovel aside. 

“This would go a lot faster if you helped!” He turned around to see you appear out of nowhere. “Ah fuck! Oh my god, [Y/N]! You scared me.”

“Sorry. You woke me from my sleep.” You stared down at the wide chasm he dug, the body inside instantly recognizable. “Is that…?”

“Yes. It’s Sunghyun,” Yoongi said. “We wanted to give him a proper burial.”

“I’ll help,” you offered. Jin and Yoongi gave each other a look but said nothing. Jin handed you the other shovel, giving you a gentle smile. 

“Thanks.”

“Where’s Hoseok and his sister?” you asked.

“Still sleeping,” Yoongi answered.

“And my dad?”

“He went to find the Mora Miserium with Jungkook.”

“Namjoon? Taehyung?”

“Infirmary. Taehyung’s chained up in the caves. Jungkook really fucked him up; he’s still knocked out,” Jin said, releasing a grunt as he dug. 

There wasn’t any more conversation after that. Once Sunghyun’s grave was filled, Yoongi used a piece of wood as a makeshift headstone until he could get a proper one. He had etched Sunghyun’s name into it with a pocket knife and you all said your prayers. 

“He saved my life,” you said, taking out the amulet from your pocket. “Especially with this. I wanted this buried with him but the risks…”

“He’d understand,” Jin said, reassuring you. “He wouldn’t want the wrong person to get their hands on it. We can frame it or you can keep it.”

You stared at the amulet in your hands, contemplating what to do with it. Then your eyes lit up as you took your moonstone necklace off. Last time the two pendants touched, there was an explosion. But what if this time…

“Can you fuse the two necklaces together? I think they’re connected.”

Jin cracked his knuckles. “Easy peasy.”

He chanted some words in Latin, moving his hands in the air around the two pendants as you held them. Then with one final snap, the stones fused together to create a double moon necklace. Jin grinned at his work and then proceeded to help you put the necklace back on.

“It suits you,” Yoongi remarked. The three of you headed back towards campus, the snow crunching beneath your feet. “I’m sorry.”

You stared at the professor, shaking your head. “Please don’t.”

He stopped walking, so Jin followed his example. You sighed, halting your footsteps as well. 

“I’m sorry too,” Jin said.

“I don’t want to hear apologies. I just want this to end. Okay?” You interrupted them before they had a chance to say more. “I know. You released Hoseok because you love him. And you recorded my sessions because I don’t know, documentation? It’s fine.”

The two men couldn’t bear to look at you, so they opted for looking at the ground instead.

“How do you intend for this to end?” Yoongi said, his voice soft, as if you could be set off at a moment’s notice. “Do you… have a plan?”

You dropped your shoulders, not realizing how tense they were. “I don’t know. Dad gets the artifact, we sever the link, Jungkook gets to live.”

“And Taehyung?” Jin said, trying not to sound nervous. “What about him? Will you give him your blood or…”

He trailed off, but you filled in the blanks pretty easily. “Let him die? That’s what you want to know. You’re my professors… Why should the decision fall on me? Haven’t I been through enough?”

You scoffed, shaking your head in frustration. 

“I can’t do this right now,” you said. Yoongi and Jin let you walk away, not having the heart to stop you. 

Namjoon’s Point of View

Vampire blood was one thing, but hybrid blood? It accelerated my healing three times as fast. I was pretty much back to normal after a good long rest. Hoseok and his sister woke up fifteen minutes ago, keeping me company in the infirmary. We played a game of cards while catching up.

And boy, did I have a shit ton to catch up on. Truth be told, my memory was fuzzy ever since the night Jimin and I went out in search of [Y/N]. I remember him being so eager to help; I thought it was sweet. But I lowered my guard too easily and paid the price. He whacked me in the head with something hard and next thing I knew, I was tied up.

Hoseok was able to piece things together from there and I quickly changed the subject, asking about him and his sister. It was admirable how everything he’s done was for her. For [Y/N] too. He was simply trying to protect everyone, and though his execution was poor, he had good intentions. 

“So… Yoongi, huh?” I asked. Hoseok dropped the cards on my cot, retracting himself into a shy ball. His sister giggled when his cheeks reddened.

“He’s all my brother talks about,” She lowered her voice to a funny octave, mimicking Hoseok as best as she could. “I miss Yoongi. I wanna be with Yoongi. I’m Yoongi’s vitamin.”

I let out a hearty laugh, feeling a weight off my chest for the first time in a while. Hoseok whined at Jiwoo’s teasing, and she patted his head while smiling. 

“Do you think [Y/N] will ever forgive me?” I asked. Hoseok stared at me like I had insulted him.

“Forgive you? Dude, I killed her and caused her to never be able to have children again. She’ll forgive you.”

“She’ll forgive you too,” Jiwoo assured. “You were being coerced. You didn’t want to kill her.”

Two knocks came from the door. We all glanced up to see [Y/N] step in, her head hung low. 

“Am I interrupting?”

I could barely hear her, but Hoseok answered with a quick, “No, you’re not interrupting. Do you need us?”

“I… I want to talk to Namjoon.”

I was gobsmacked to the point where Hoseok and Jiwoo gave me a look, as if they were telepathically asking me if it was okay. 

“Yeah, yeah, come over. Would you two mind giving us some privacy?” Jiwoo was quick to leave, but Hoseok gave me a gentle squeeze on my shoulder first. Once the siblings closed the door behind them, [Y/N] stood in front of me without moving. She fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, her eyes pointed to the ground. 

“Sit down,” I said, trying to sound like a gentle giant and not an authoritative douche. She finally made eye contact with me and then in the blink of an eye, her arms were around me. My body stilled. “[Y/N]?”

“I… I want my friend back,” she said, voice slightly shaky. My muscles relaxed and I hugged her back tightly, wanting her to know I was there for her.

“I’m here, I promise,” Poor girl was trembling. “You can cry. Let it all out.”

She did. First it was small sniffles, which gradually became much louder sobbing. I held her close, rubbing soothing circles on her back. I wanted to tell her so much, apologize for everything, but only after she was ready to hear it. I didn’t care how long she needed to cry; I just wanted to be there for her.

“I think I’m ready to talk now… I have a lot to ask. A lot to say.”

She was sitting at the foot of my bed now. “Go ahead. I’m listening.”

“You’re you?” I couldn’t blame her for being cautious. I taught her as much. “You have to be you… Jimin is no longer a part of this world, so the compulsion must’ve worn off.”

“Did you…” I trailed off, but she shook her head.

“Ari took him to the prison world with her.”

“Whoa…” I didn’t know what to say other than I shouldn’t be surprised. Those two deserve each other for eternity. 

“You really thought I’d kill him?” Her words were sharp, laced with offense. 

I sat up straight. “No, I just didn’t know what happened to him. Once he was gone, it was like my mind felt clear. Like I had control again. I know you wouldn’t kill him unless it was out of self-defense. Actually, even if it wasn’t out of self-defense, I wouldn’t have blamed you. No one would have.”

She bit her lip, a nervous habit of hers when lost in deep thought. “The only person I’ve ever killed was my childhood abuser. It still haunts me. That weight of taking someone’s life is soul-crushing, Joon. Even if he deserved it.”

Her shoulders drooped as she said the next part. “What do I do about Taehyung?”

Ah. That was a very good question indeed. He’s done unforgivable things, his intentions stemming from obsession. Obsession over her. His past record with his last love interest wasn’t any better either. That wolf was dangerous.

“What do you want to do about him?”

She scoffed, as if she knew I would say that. “I don’t know. That’s why I came to you. You’ve killed countless supernatural beings, humans too. Why do I have to decide?”

Valid point. I was a hunter first, headmaster second. But she was only a student, my apprentice, still a kid in my eyes. Always a fighter, never a killer. “Once the link between him and Jungkook is severed, you don’t have to give him your blood. He’ll die of natural consequences. It wouldn’t be your fault.”

“But he’d suffer.”

“Isn’t that what he deserves?”

“You thought Jimin deserved a second chance. Are some people not redeemable?”

“It sounds like you want him to be.”

She covered her face with both hands. “No. I just—he’s a student. And it’s because of his love for me that this got so out of hand. It’s my fault…”

“Stop. None of this is your fault,” She dropped her hands, a sad pout on her lips. “I’ll do it. I’ll put Taehyung out of his misery, so you don’t have to. It’ll be on me.”

“You’re the headmaster. You took him in. You think… he deserves to die?”

“I think he deserves what you think is fitting. Because he’s the one who wronged you. But I’m more than willing to make the hard choice for you if you choose to do nothing.” She hopped off the cot, pacing back and forth in the room. I removed the covers off me and swung my legs off the edge of the bed. “Hey… you don’t have to save everyone.”

That got her to stop. “But I do… my blood is cursed to do so.”

“Listen, I’ve tried to save everyone. Every student. I see so much potential, it’s overwhelming. But some people can't be saved no matter what you do and that’s okay.”

I stood up, but my legs stumbled clumsily. [Y/N] caught me and swung my arm over her shoulder. 

“See? I’m a natural at saving others.”

It was good to hear her make a joke, even a small one. I smiled. “Ultimately it’s up to you. I’ll support whatever you do.”

Your Point of View

You set Namjoon back on the cot, joining him as you two dangled your legs off the edge. Well, yours dangled while his feet stayed planted on the ground. 

“There’s only one thing I know for sure…” you said. Namjoon placed his hands in his lap, awaiting your answer. “When this is all over, I have to do what’s best for me. And that means—”

“You have to leave.”

It felt like deja vu of your previous conversation where he said he was letting you go. Except this time, you were choosing it yourself. 

“Yeah… you actually gave me the idea first. I realized you were right.”

His tone shifted to a more grave one. “I’ll be honest. I probably said many things to you while I was under Jimin’s influence. I don’t remember much after he knocked me out while we went out searching for you. Bastard tied me up and waited until the vervain was out of my system to compel me. Stole my ring too.”

“But…?”

“But…” He sighed. “I made a promise to you and your parents that I’d always look out for you except it’s not healthy for you to be here anymore.” He placed his hand on your own, squeezing it gently. “You were always the right person, but this is the wrong place. I have to let you go because you deserve peace.”

“Namjoon…” You already cried your heart out once, so you refrained from tearing up again. His gaze on you was affectionate, protective, but also solemn. 

“I’ll get all the stuff ready for you to graduate early. Anything you need, I’ll do it. Just know you are always welcome here.”

Shit. It looked like he was about to cry. You’ve never seen him like this, so you did the only thing that might bring him some comfort.

“I love you, Namjoon. Thank you for taking care of me all these years.”

He let out a small wheeze from trying to reply to you while keeping his emotions in check. “I love you too. And I’m sorry for everything.”

“I know. But I have a way you can make it up to me.”

Taehyung’s Point of View

I woke up to find myself chained. Not only were my wrists and ankles bound, but there was a collar around my neck too. The chains clinked when I charged forward, but I didn’t get very far since they were attached to the wall. A hole in the ceiling allowed some sunlight in, but it did little to stop the cold winter air. At least someone put me in sweatpants before confining me here.

I wracked my brain to remember my last memory. Ah. Right. I was clawed to death, which was extremely gruesome and sucked ass. However, it would be worth it. She was worth it. 

Were my methods unorthodox? Yes. A bit insane? Absolutely. But when you’re in love, you do stupid things. We should have never broken up, but I was overly jealous and she was a stunner. She could have any guy, so I had to do whatever it took to make her choose me.

I wanted her to keep choosing me. Hell, she could use me for all I cared. For sex, for comfort, I would always be down. At first I gave her space, but that was my biggest mistake. A new wolf enrolled into our campus and became my roommate. Little did I know he would soon become my biggest threat.

The human hunters I paid did a splendid job attacking Jungkook. However, it seemed Mother Nature wanted me to work harder because that damn sire bond saved his life. While he was being an ungrateful sired jackass, I was longing to switch places with him. It was my ultimate goal, my desire, to be sired to [Y/N].

So when I caught Park Jimin masturbating to Jungkook’s pictures, the alliance was formed. He’d get Jungkook, I’d get [Y/N]. Little did I know, that vampire bastard was going to double-cross me. A lot of things went south, but it didn’t matter. The end result was what was most important. 

I had finally got a taste of her blood. Sweet, delicious, rich liquid crimson. I closed my eyes, licking my lips at the memory. My plan was finally coming to fruition. 

And the best part? It was fail-proof. Dying with her blood in my system was step one. Step two was drinking it once more after resurrecting to complete the transition into becoming a hybrid. If she didn’t give it to me, I’d have to force her hand.

Honest to god, I didn’t plan for my life to be linked to Jungkook’s. That night at the banquet, I originally wanted to be linked to [Y/N] as a means to be closer to her. Who knew things would work out in my favor?

If she didn’t give me her blood, I’d die and that means Jungkook would die. This was great. Victory was within my reach; I could smell it.

Well, actually I smelled something else. A saccharine scent I knew all too well. Opening my eyes, I saw a figure approaching in the distance past the iron gate bars. 

“[Y/N]...”

My smile was so wide that it hurt my cheeks. The large gauze on her neck was a beautiful sight to see. I hoped she remembered my bite for the rest of her life. The memory of pinning her down, the way she wiggled beneath me trying to escape — it made me hard. If I wasn’t chained, I’d claim her as my own and abduct her for my own twisted needs. 

When she opened the gate, I writhed against the chains like a feral beast. She hesitated at first but then entered, leaving enough space between us so she’d still be out of reach.

“You’re such a fucking tease, I’m tired of being the nice guy. Get over here and release me,” I snarled. She didn't respond, so I kept going. “What? Are you mad I drank your blood? That I’ll be sired to you?”

I knew I had won at this point. I couldn’t help but be smug, wearing a proud smile at my soon-to-be victory. She simply shook her head at me. 

“I’m not mad. I pity you. Things didn’t have to be like this, Tae.”

“I agree. You should’ve chosen me. I wish…” My voice was losing its venom. I almost winced in pain as I said the next part. “I wish you could love me again.”

Her eyes softened a bit, like I chipped away a piece of the strong front she always put on. “Maybe in another life, we could’ve been happy together. But you had to go and orchestrate a murder. Work with hunters, a psychotic vampire, and a corrupted witch.” She ran a hand over her face, sighing loudly. “You’re in the middle of transitioning into a hybrid.”

“I know, I’m over the moon,” I said, enlarging my eyes to show her my excitement. I probably looked insane. “Even if you didn’t choose me, I chose you. And I’ll be yours even if you’re not truly mine. I still won.”

“That’s what you think. You need to drink my blood once more or you’ll die.”

“I know,” I said quickly, anticipating that tidbit. “You’ll give it to me soon enough.”

“What makes you so sure?”

“Because…” This was it. This was my moment! “I linked my life with Jungkook's. So if you don’t give me your blood, he’ll die.”

I let out a hearty laugh, but it quickly faded upon seeing her stoic expression. Why was she so calm? 

“Okay, I’m confused,” I said. “You’re supposed to be devastated.”

She took another step forward and I almost tried to kiss her, desperate for her to be closer. 

“There’s no easy way to say this,” she said. “So I’ll just tell you. I already knew about your life being linked to Jungkook’s.”

I’m sure confusion was etched into my features. What the hell was she talking about? 

“Ari told me. Before she and Jimin were sent to a prison world.” Okay, not even I could predict that. Was I next? I wrestled against my restraints at the fear of being banished. I didn’t want to be away from her. “Calm down. I’m not sending you to one; it’s impossible without Ari’s blood anyway.”

I relaxed and stopped moving, so she continued, “It’s true that I would’ve cried at the thought of losing Jungkook and letting you win. But Ari left me with one last gift before she left.”

That bitch was lucky she went to a prison world because I had half a mind to burn her at the stake. 

“And what was that?”

“She found my father. You see, he was trapped in my moonstone necklace after making a deal with a witch. In exchange for his freedom, the moonstone would be imbued with magic strong enough to grant me fertility. Of course, it would only work if I hadn’t died.”

She lowered her face closer to my level. 

“I managed to release my father from the stone and ask him about some strange words Ari told me. Have you heard of the Mora Muserium?” 

I shook my head. “You know I don’t know what that is.”

“Well, the Mora Muserium is an hourglass that can remove dark magic from people and store it. The spell Ari used to link your lives used dark magic.”

I processed what she was saying, my mind racing a mile a minute. She wasn’t possibly insinuating…

“The dark magic tethering him to you has been removed, Tae. He and you are no longer linked,” she revealed. 

My face stiffened, the smile on my face I once had disappearing altogether. This couldn’t be true. My plan was fail-proof! “No! You’re lying! You’re fucking lying! He and I are connected forever! If you kill me, he dies! Do you really want to risk that?!”

“Tae…” she said, her tone full of pity. It angered me more. “It’s true. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s not!” I was shouting at the top of my lungs. “You are sadly mistaken if you think I’m going to fall for your scare tactics! I don’t believe it one bit! Prove it!”

“After they removed the dark magic from the linking spell, my dad snapped his neck. Jungkook’s out cold while you’re… not.”

I dropped my jaw as I fell to my knees. “No…”

She got down on one knee, matching my level once more. “Jungkook will come back to life soon. But you won’t be here to see it.”

“So what? You’re going to kill me?” I spat. 

“No. First your eyes will bleed. Then your body will be consumed in the most unimaginable pain you’ve ever felt. Like pure acid running through your veins, eating you alive inside out. It’ll be as painful to watch as it is to experience and lasts a long time before death finally consumes you.”

“You’re kidding me…”

“I’m not. I can’t bear to watch you suffer for that long so… someone else will put you out of your misery.”

She stood up and turned towards the gate. I narrowed my eyes to see a male figure approaching. He had a shotgun in his hand and a tool belt around his waist. The stench of vervain and wolfsbane from it was gag-inducing, and it made me sweat nervously too. 

“Namjoon…” I muttered. He looked at me like I was trash. When I tried to reach [Y/N]’s hand, she had already stood up and walked over to the headmaster. 

“Are you sure about this?” Namjoon asked. [Y/N] bit her lip but nodded slowly. My heart sank to the ground. “Leave it to me. Go. You don’t want to see this.”

She marched forward towards the exit, determined not to look back. Namjoon stood in front of me, pointing the shotgun straight at my chest. I looked him dead in the eye, slowly rising to my feet.

“Sorry it had to end this way. But you did this to yourself, Taehyung.”

“Some headmaster you are. Killing your own student.”

“[Y/N] was the one who asked me to do this.”

“No! Stop lying! She would never!”

I tried to run towards the gate, her back still in view as she walked away rather slowly. I knew deep down, she didn’t want this. 

“[Y/N]! [Y/N], please! You’re going to just walk away? Even though you know you can save me?! Are you that heartless?!”

*BOOM!*

Fuck! My shoulder was stinging with pain from the poisoned bullet. I groaned in agony but remained standing, reaching out for her.

“[Y/N], please! I don’t want to die! All I ever wanted was—”

*BOOM!*

My left leg was fucked. I fell down to the cold ground, desperation being the only thing helping me stay conscious. She had covered her ears this time, but I knew my voice would reach her.

“[Y/N], I love you…” I breathed. “Even in my twisted, messed up, obsessive way. I love you and I just wanted you to choose me for once. For once…”

I heard Namjoon’s footsteps and him cocking the gun in preparation for the next shot. I tried to crawl away.

*BOOM!*

Now both my legs were done for. I cried. Wailed. Screamed as I laid on my back. I didn’t want to die, not unless it was for her. Not because of her. 

“[Y/N], I’m sorry! Please… please don’t let me die. You’re better than that… you’re better than me… you’re different!”

The cock of Namjoon’s gun let me know my time was up. I closed my eyes and waited. I guess I finally lost.

“Wait, don’t shoot!”

Your Point of View

The words left your mouth without you realizing. Namjoon froze and Taehyung opened his eyes, seeing you run towards him. In a matter of seconds, you placed yourself in between him and the professor with your arms spread in a protective stance.

“Don’t kill him,” you begged.

“[Y/N], are you sure?” Namjoon asked. You looked over your shoulder to see Taehyung try to sit up.

“Stay down!” you shouted at him. Taehyung obeyed and laid as still as a wooden plank. “Don’t fucking move or try anything. I already regret this.” 

You bit your wrist and bent down to the ground, forcing it into Taehyung’s mouth. His eyes widened in alarm, but he drank your blood nevertheless. Once he had his fill, you felt his emotions skyrocket — particularly joy.

“Stay still and stay seated until I tell you to move,” you commanded.

He sat in a criss-cross position, his smile beaming with pure bliss. “You love me. I can tell. I can feel it.”

“Shut up!”

You stood up and Namjoon slung his gun over his shoulder. “You want him alive?”

“I… I don’t know.” You were shaking and pretty soon close to hyperventilation until Namjoon centered you, reminding you that you were in a safe space. 

“It’s okay. I’m not judging you,” He put his hands on your shoulders. “Talk to me.” 

“I… I thought I was doing the right thing. He’s fucking insane, but at the same time… I thought about my childhood abuser. How I shoved him off, how he fell, how he was begging for me to call for help — but nothing was done. I let him die. He deserved it, but that was such an easy way out. He should’ve been rotting in jail or at least atoning for his sins. I didn’t want to do the same thing to Tae.”

“Breathe… breathe…”

You took a deep inhale and then let out a slow exhale. “This time I know about my blood and its healing properties. I couldn’t let him die… I thought I could, but it felt wrong. God, what’s wrong with me?”

Namjoon placed a finger to his lips. “Shh. No more talking down to yourself. You want to save him, then save him. It’s your blood. Now… you mentioned atoning for sins. Do you have something in mind for him?”

You turned your head to the side, seeing him stare at you with such an intensity that it made you self-conscious. 

“Yeah… what are you going to do with me, oh great sire?” He was taunting you, but you didn’t let it deter you. 

“I’m going to compel you to forget me.”

“What?! No. I refuse. Don’t do that, please. My love for you is the only thing that keeps me going. I can’t—”

“Taehyung? Stop talking.”

He had to oblige. Namjoon let go of you, crossing his arms over another. 

“You’re absolutely sure this is what you want to do?”

You gave him a small smile. “Yes. Because maybe if he didn’t love me, didn’t know me, then he’d be different. He’d be able to focus on himself, finding himself.”

You then tilted your body at a 90 degree angle, startling the man in front of you.

“What are you doing? Why are you bowing?”

“I need your help. Please.”

“Okay, okay,” he said, waving his arms around and forcing you to stand up straight. “Anything for you. You don’t have to beg.”

“After I compel Taehyung, I need you to help him start a new life. He’s going to be a newborn hybrid. Please take care of him in my stead.”

“I will, I promise. Look… I’ll wait outside the cave while you say your goodbyes.”

You gave him your thanks and he left, the last sound being the creaky iron gate closing behind him. Then you walked over to Taehyung, who was crying softly. 

“Taehyung… stand up. Let me look at you.” He got to his feet right away and you shoved your fingers in his bullet wounds, extracting each bullet out with skill and precision. Taehyung couldn’t even scream until you told him it was okay, so he stood still and endured. Once you were done, you held his face with both hands, wiping his tears away with your thumb. “What do you want to say? Tell me.”

“That I love you s-so much.” He closed his eyes, embracing the warmth of your hands. “Don’t make me forget you.”

“I have to.”

“But you love me too. I know it, don’t lie to me.”

“The sire bond is complicated. It heightens every emotion. You’re confused.”

His eyes fluttered open, a fire burning in his gaze. “I have never been more sure of anything in my life. You align my soul, [Y/N]. I’m incomplete without you. Please…”

You stood on your tiptoes to press a tender kiss on his forehead. He shuddered beneath you, wishing this moment could last forever. 

“I need you to live your life and find yourself. As much as you say you want to be sired, I’d be withholding your freedom and that isn’t love. It’s abuse.” 

“I don’t care. I don’t mind it. Not if it’s you.”

“Shh…” You put a finger to his lips, staring deep into his eyes. 

“No. I don’t want to say goodbye. Please.”

Your pupils dilated as your compulsion ability kicked into gear. 

“You will forget about me and your love for me completely. You’re going to live your life and do better, work on yourself, love yourself, understand that this is a second chance at life. Don’t waste it. After I uncuff you, you’re going to walk out of the caves and listen to Namjoon, who will help you learn how to be a hybrid.”

You worked quickly and removed his restraints. He walked out of the cave like a zombie, and you almost wanted to pass out from the stress. It shouldn’t have been that painful, but it was like you ripped off the biggest band aid. Taehyung had burrowed himself into your heart and despite your best efforts to extract all remains of him, he’d left a permanent scar. 

The sire bond with Taehyung, although short-lived, had set your emotions in flux. The intensity of his love for you was very real, the ache in his heart when he was begging you to not erase his memories cut you deep like glass. After you compelled him, it felt like someone sawed your heart in half.

Letting someone go was never going to get easier, but you had one more person to talk to. Another bandaid. Another heartbreak. 

Jungkook’s Point of View

I wished [Y/N]’s father had given me a warning. After placing my hand on the hourglass thingy, black smoke (which I assumed was the dark magic) formed inside. Professor Min had to ask, “How do we know if it worked?” before her dad snapped my neck so fast, almost as if he had waited his entire life to do so. 

Even though I was going to come back to life, it didn’t make it hurt any less. All I could see was darkness. No sound, no sight, just unbearable loneliness. But then I saw a light in the distance and ran towards it. 

The first thing I saw once I opened my eyes was her. She was caressing my head, running her hand through my hair. Her smile was kind, but her eyes were empty. Almost as if she was forcing herself to be present when she didn’t want to be. Still, she was goddamn beautiful. 

I noticed the gauze on her neck and sat up immediately. “Are you okay? Your neck…”

She waved her hand in a dismissive manner, forcing me to lay back down. “I’m fine. It’s mostly healed anyway, take it easy. You just came back to life.”

I realized I was in my dorm room. Taehyung’s things had been cleared out already, so my side was the only one that had personality to it. I cringed seeing the mess of clothes, posters, and towels on the floor. I would’ve cleaned up had I known she would be here with me. 

“Wouldn’t be the first time I died,” I gave her a soft smile as I reminisced about the memory. “Do you remember it?”

“How could I forget? That’s how everything started. The hunters killing you, me giving you my blood, you being sired… you hated it.”

There was a playfulness in her speech that made me chuckle. “I did. Oh, it was humiliating.”

“Yeah, so awful,” she said, playing along. “You hated me.”

“Well… I don’t. I haven’t for a while… and don’t think I ever truly did.”

Her eyes widened a bit and she rubbed her palms on her thighs anxiously. “It’s okay if you did. We were put in an uncomfortable situation.”

“No… it wasn’t.” I sat up with my pillow propped against the headboard and rested my back on top. I leaned forward and grabbed her hand. “I shouldn’t have been so mean back then. I let my pride get in the way. I’m sorry.”

She turned her head to the side, trying to hide her embarrassment. “Why are you apologizing now? We’re past this. Silly.”

“Because you deserve it. You deserve to hear that you were right. About everything. About… him.”

She finally looked at me, slowly retracting her hand, but I held it tightly. I feared if I let go, she’d disappear for good. Something about her hollow gaze earlier left a sinking feeling in my chest. 

“If you’re going to apologize, then be specific.” She sounded exasperated and I wondered if I should’ve said nothing.

“I can sit here and blame Jimin for it all. Like how he kissed me, manipulated me into believing I enjoyed it. I can lie and say he’s the reason I didn’t believe you when I should’ve. But I won’t.”

“What’s your point?”

My voice started to crack as tears welled up in my eyes. “I’m a coward. I was scared. The sire bond ending terrified me. I thought you wouldn’t love me anymore, so maybe I pushed you away. Wanted to find an excuse to hate you, paint you like the villain you never were. I blamed you for things you didn’t do and I was wrong for it.”

No response. She only stared at our hands, so I intertwined my fingers with hers.  

“Please say something,” I begged.

“While I waited for you to wake up, I read Sunghyun’s notebook. He was in love…”

“With you?”

“No. With us. He always rooted for us to be together. In his notes, he put down how much we belong together.” I saw how she was taking in quick breaths to calm down as tears formed in her eyes. “I’m sorry to disappoint him.”

“What are you talking about?” 

She stared deep into my eyes, a grave expression on her face. “I’m leaving. Namjoon’s going to help me graduate early.”

“Well, where are you going? I’ll join you.” She shook her head before I finished my response. 

“No. Jungkook, I’m leaving everything. Everyone.”

I held our intertwined hands against my chest. “No. Take me with you. Please.” I kissed the back of her hand, trembling so much that I thought I’d throw up. 

“I can’t. I need to heal, I need space.”

“Then do it. I’ll give you all the space you need. Just don’t make this a goodbye.”

She pulled her hand away from me, using enough force so that I couldn’t stop her. She got up from her seat and turned her back towards me. Her fists tightened as her foot tapped the floor anxiously.

“I’m letting you go, so you can live your life. Just like I did for Taehyung.”

I’ve never moved so fast in my life. I scrambled to get out of bed, forcing her to turn around by gripping her shoulders.

“What is that supposed to mean? Isn’t Taehyung dead? Huh?” I shook her once to get her attention when she remained silent. “Answer me!”

“I gave him my blood.” 

Her words sent my emotions into overdrive. Anger, jealousy, confusion were all fighting for dominance. “What?! Why on earth would you do that? That bastard deserves to be six feet under for everything he’s done!”

She pried my hands off her shoulders like she was repulsed to be touched by me. “Because I could! I have the ability to heal him so how could I just let him die?! I didn’t want his death to be on my conscience!”

“It wouldn’t have been! He would’ve died anyway!” I placed my hands on my hips. “So what, he’s sired to you now? You know damn well he isn’t going to turn 100 times to break it.”

“What does it matter?”

“It matters a whole damn lot, [Y/N]. He’s won. He wanted you and now he’s got you. And what’s worse is that you don’t seem to mind,” I ran a hand down my face, forcing a laugh at the ridiculous situation, but I was truly dying inside. “He’s tried to kill me, he’s lied, he’s backstabbed you, he was obsessed over you. He—”

“Chose me,” she said, interrupting me. “Despite all of it, he’s chosen me time and time again. I let him live because I wanted him to know I chose him at least once.”

“Do you love him?” I sounded so pathetic, but I had to know. Her silence was eating me alive. “Answer me.”

“If Taehyung had died… I would’ve been destroyed. I couldn’t carry that burden of knowing I could’ve saved him. If anyone were to die by my hands, it should’ve been Jimin.” Her eyes darkened, but I could sense the fury within her. She appeared calm on the surface, which made her even scarier in my eyes as she told me the next part. “I’m not sure if you know this, but Ari took her and Jimin to a prison world.”

“No… I didn’t know,” I breathed. 

“So let me ask you this. If Jimin was here right now and I was about to kill him, would you let it happen?”

My arms slowly fell back down to my sides. My mouth was dry as I tried to form a response, but nothing came out. I felt heavy, anchored to the ground and immobilized by her question. Jimin deserved to die just like Taehyung did. I knew that. Why couldn’t I say anything?

“Do you love him?” she asked. 

“No.” I didn’t sound convincing, but I meant it. 

“See Jungkook? You say you don’t love Jimin, but you would save him too. Despite all he’s done. I can say I don’t love Taehyung, but I saved him anyway. Whether we want to admit it or not, we loved them in some capacity. Maybe not in the way they craved, but we did care for them.”

“Fine. You made your point. But what now, huh? Taehyung’s sired to you.”

She held her hand out in a stop motion. “I’m not finished talking. Taehyung’s… not sired to me. Not anymore.”

The relief that washed over me was overwhelming. “How?”

“I compelled him to forget about me.”

I didn’t need a sire bond to know what she was planning to do next. Fortunately, I was quicker than her and pinned her to the bed with my hand covering her eyes. 

“Jungkook?” 

“Please… please don’t do it,” My vision was blurry again with tears. “I know what you’re planning to do and I’m begging you to change your mind.”

She could easily overthrow me, but instead she reached her hand up to caress my face, smiling even though she couldn’t see me. “You know me so well…”

“Of course I do. After everything how could I not?” 

“Then you understand why I want to do it.”

“No. I don’t. Is this my punishment? Do you wish for me to suffer?”

“Not at all.”

“I will spend the rest of my life making it up to you if I have to. Please let me love you, please… I’m sorry.”

I was crying so much that a tear fell onto her cheek. She didn’t wipe it away and I leaned into her touch, kissing her palm once. 

“I want you to be able to live your life without being weighed down by me. The burden of everything, the trauma bonding—it’s not normal.”

“We’re not normal. Nothing about our lives is ever going to be normal. Maybe it’s not supposed to be.”

“You deserve a clean slate. To start over.”

“What’s the point if you’re not by my side?”

She sat up on the bed, but I didn’t remove my hand from her eyes. “I won’t erase everything. You’ll still remember me, but only as that girl that had a crush on you. How we sparred together sometimes. You won’t remember loving me.”

I gritted my teeth, wanting so badly to shout, but I knew I had to remain calm. It’s hard when you’re a blubbering mess though. “Erasing even a single memory of you is a crime. Each moment was a stepping stone that led me to you. There’s no point in compelling me to forget because my heart will yearn for you and only you.”

“Baby…”

“Without your love, I’m nothing. So please… stay with me. Hold on for a while longer. Let’s heal together.”

She slowly took my hand off her eyes and I let it happen. Next thing I knew, she grabbed me by my shirt, kissing me fervently, so desperate like she was afraid I’d disappear. It was ironic because all I could think about was keeping her close in case she’d vanish first.

I never broke our kiss as I pushed her down onto the bed, my body on top of hers. The way we melded together was perfect. I was made to hold her, to love her, and I wanted to show it. We were both crying because I tasted the saltiness of her tears as I kissed her. 

There was no changing her mind. She knew it, I knew it. This was our goodbye kiss. So I prolonged it as best I could, caressing her face and kissing her deeper than before. 

Then it happened. She caught me by surprise and flipped us around, her body now on top. My eyes opened like a stupid fool and she put her face right in front of me. Another tear cascaded down as her pupils dilated. 

“You’re going to forget the fact you ever loved me. I’m just the girl who had a crush on you and trained with you, nothing more. I want you to live your life freely. If we ever cross paths again, don’t approach me. When I’m ready, I’ll come to you and you can decide then if you’ll have me. You’ll remember then. I love you, Jungkook.”

I blinked once, then twice, and my room was now empty. Sitting up, I wiped my tears away and reached my hand into my pocket. I pulled out a small, dried vervain flower and it burned when it came into contact with my skin. Compared to what I’ve been through, this pain was nothing. My moonlight had left me, fading away for good.

Until our next encounter.

a/n: Again, thank you for reading Moonstruck!!! I cried while writing the ending, I hope I made you feel something too. I do have an AO3 if you'd rather show support over there. Much love! 🌙💗

[xenizaation]

permanent

pairing: fem! reader x choi san (ft kim hongjoong)

genre: angst, friends to lovers, smut

general warnings: depictions of a depressive state, mourning of partner, self-blame and slight ptsd

sexual warnings: dirty talk, pet names, manual stimulation, oral sex (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie,

word count: 12.6k

summary: they say moving on is hard. you find that it's even harder when in the process of it, you have to accept your feelings for your friend as well.

less important a/n: ok so this was supposed to be like 5k long 🙃🙃...chile, anyways. uhm, this came from me bottling my emotions up for the last 5 months and I just wanted to let some of my suffering out in some kind of way. even if it is far from what I feel (I feel the need to specify that the events related below aren't inspired from my life, happily so). read at your own discretion, for I have tried my best to make you feel horny and miserable at the same time 🥰🥰🥰 stay safe xoxo

a/n from long later: hi i wrote this about a year ago and i found it in my drafts and hey why wouldn't i post it after not posting something in ages? haha. enjoy! altough it's probably rlly bad and full of mistakes hihi, i ain't reading this again to correct it. i love you muah

______________________________________________________

The cold air felt like needles poking at your bare skin. You ran as fast as you could, barefoot in the woods, feeling every little scratch that was tearing open the skin of your soles and staining it with fresh blood. Your lungs were holding hostage a fire as you were inhaling the cold night air, and the sweat you felt dribbling down your face and back was only of help to make you feel even colder. You looked behind, once, twice, and then a third time too, slowly reducing your pace until it came to a halt.

"What am I running away from?" you ask yourself looking around. There was nothing, no one after you. So why were you running for your life? Your heart starts to beat faster as you hear screams coming from deep within the trees. But you don't run. You can't run anymore. You just fall to the ground, embracing your knees to your chest.

"Me!"

You don't turn around. That voice is way too familiar to make you turn around. Your mouth hangs open as you try to scream but no sound comes out as your muffled moans remain drowned in the deepest point if your throat.

You gasp for air as you wake up shaking your head relentlessly, in order to try to snap yourself back to the reality you're in- so your heart would stop beating so damn fast. You groan as you look over at the watch on your nightstand and see it spell 3:37 AM. You grab your phone from next to it and shut your eyes closed at the sudden brightness the screen displays. You manage to decrease it and open your contacts.

"Still awake?" you ask, and you know you shouldn't. He always offers you more than you can give back, more than you deserve. But you can't help yourself. You cannot deny yourself the little peace you still have in your life.

"Yeah, wassup?"

"Can you call?" you hit send and it's a matter of seconds between him receiving the message, him reading the message and then his name popping up on your screen. You answer.

"Again?" San questions from the other end of the phone. You only hum in affirmation. He sighs softly as you lay down on your side, phone trapped between your ear and the pillow. You hear the clicking of the keyboard and mouse clearly, he must be working late again. And yet he always answers. More than many people you've met did for you.

"Tell me a story." you ask once again. For the...well you've lost count.

"You know, one day I'm going to be out of stories," he answers and lets out a chuckle. Bathing in your silence, he takes his time to think about what he could tell you. As he begins, you close your eyes and imagine whatever he is helping you picture inside your head. Be it the times when he was a little kid and used to walk with his grandparents down the side of a river, or the times he was a teen and was always struggling to get out of trouble, San always gave you a vast amount of details that made you worship his each and every story. And they always made you dream something pretty when you dozed out of consciousness with him still talking on the other end. This night was no exception, so when you wake up, you send him a text that expresses your gratitude as always.

"Listen, if you still want a contract renewal you need to publish something within next year," you look at your boss and feel every word he lays out weighing your body down like you're going to fall through the floor. "I get writer's block, I really do. And we gave you time. You took your time. But it's been almost two years now..." his words stop reaching your ears as you're reminded. One year, ten months and twelve days. And still counting. The count will never stop, you realize, as the event it started from cannot be reversed. You will always be stuck in a period of time since it happened.

"You're one of the biggest names here in our publishing house, Y/N. We don't want to lose you but at the same time we can't keep focusing on you if it will be to no avail." he is right. He is always right, your boss. Always had a strategic mindset, and that always helped both of you. Except now. Now he was asking for something you couldn't offer.

"I'm sorry," you manage to blurt out. "I'm trying my best and I know it's not enough." if you had to be honest, hearing yourself say those words out loud made your heart break even more that it already was. Partly because it was true, and the rest? Because it sounded like you were asking for compassion, which you thought was pathetic. You never liked people looking at you the way you caught yourself looking at homeless individuals.

"I'm gonna get something out, ok? I promise you, just please have a little more faith in me. I need you to trust me to be able to do this."

You look up and make eye contact with him. Park Seonghwa was never one who showed compassion. But as his gaze traced over your fingers picking at your cuticles, the dryness of your lips and the shadows of your hollowed eyes, you felt something you grew too accustomed with in the last almost two years of your life.

Pity.

"Come on, let me take you out on Thursday." San pleaded as he was following in your steps down the hallway of the company you worked in. You didn't expect your little trip to talk to your boss would end with this. "You literally have nothing to lose." He completed and you stopped, facing him. You met his familiar and comforting eyes, which always reminded you of a cute fox, and his dimpled smile as he watched you keenly. It has been almost four years since he started working at the same company you did, but since the beginning, you two were more than just work colleagues. It was the type of connection where you would understand each other from simple looks into the other's eyes or where you could easily finish each other's sentences. You liked to consider him your platonic soulmate but you knew that if you hadn't had a relationship at the time you two met, you would've have surely gone out together and maybe made a good couple.

Well...now you didn't have a relationship anymore but you weren't exactly in the right headspace for one.

By now, you and all the rest of your workmates knew how big of a crush he had on you, but you never let it get out of control. You were feeling kind of guilty, to be honest. Knowing that in a way, you were using it to your advantage for your sleepless nights or the ones in which sleep was ruined by nightmares. But you were sure he was getting his benefits from it as well.

"Look, I want to but I really don't wanna be a bitch to you if I suddenly feel like shit." you reply, and in all honestly, it was true. Your mood hasn't been so stable lately, understandably so.

"Well, how about this: if you wake up in a good mood on Thursday and decide it's okay to hang out, you text me, and we do whatever you feel comfortable with. And if we do go out and do something together and you end up feeling like shit then you'll tell me and I'll get you home in the fastest way possible for a human being. How does it sound?"

Not bad. He is giving you every little piece of comfort that you knew you needed but you never asked for. So you agree. It wouldn't be the first time you hang out with San, sure, you never called them dates, because to you they were not. But you knew that for any outsider it looked exactly like that. And who is to blame? You two always worked hand in hand just so well. These no-pressure type of meet-ups you two had always made you feel comfortable so that was why you were considering it this time as well.

Days pass and you spend them stuck in your home, drowning in your bitter memories and your regrets. The taste of guilt never becomes sweet, you think. Not like how alcohol does when you drink more and more of the same kind. No. Guilt only grows in bitterness and in how it burns down your throat, feeling like it swirls all of your insides once it reaches your stomach. In a way, guilt feels like the long estranged sister of love. Both let their essence hover in your mind for however long they like.

As you rise from your bed to make some hot coffee you think of what day it is. Between the mix of reliving the moments long gone in the same apartment you still stand, and the countless intents to come up with something that you could present to your boss, you didn't know which one made you lose track of time more. You checked your phone for a bit of clarity. No new messages or notifications. At this point, everyone knew better than to bother you with their worries.

Thursday.

Well, seems like you had to cancel out on someone, you thought as you tried grabbing the coffee pot on the stove, but lost in your thoughts, you pay no attention to the handle and drop the pot on the kitchen tiled floor as soon as you feel the skin on your palm burn. You swore and quickly took a few steps back so the burning coffee on the ground wouldn't get to your bare feet. You shook your hand trying to get a cold breeze to the inflamed skin but it only made it feel worse. As you stopped to look at the damage you realized it wasn't all that bad, but it sure stung like a motherfucker. You ran your hand under the cold water of the sink and looked to your right. The brown liquid on the ground was expanding, getting in every little crevice in between the tiles.

****

Coffee was getting everywhere. It splashed on the kitchen counters, it was slowly getting under them too. You froze for a few seconds after your mug made contact with the floor, shattering to dozens of pieces.

"Well, that can't be a good sign." your lover said from behind you finishing with a low chuckle. You smiled, turning on your heels and taking in his form. You woke him up, well, the mug woke him up actually. Approaching you slowly, with a slight limp in his walk and his shoulders dropped all the way down, his hair was fluffed up and his skin a nice shade of pale with a few lines from the pillow on his left cheek. He always looked so angelic, you never could put it into words, how it made you feel, seeing him first thing in the morning. It was something that made your insides crazily stir up but made gave you a sense of tranquility, at the same time. That was how loving him usually was. Two opposite sides walking hand in hand. He grabbed you by the waist and pulled you closer to him, softly pressing his lips against the crown of your head. You joined your hands behind his torso and inhaled deeply. Your heart skipped a beat as your lungs felt intoxicated with his smell.

"Today is the big day, huh?" his voice was still hoarse as he spoke, every word of his drumming in your ears. You nodded.

"I'm really nervous." you answered and let your forehead drop against his shoulder. He hugged you tighter with the hand around your waist and gently pat your head with the other.

"I know, angel. But it's gonna be alright, ok? Your friends will be there, your parents will be there and I will be there. You can lean on me." he said kissing your cheek. "You know that, don't you?" his face right in front of yours, you responded with nothing more than a slow kiss. A kiss that was rehearsed so many times before that your lips and tongues already knew what they had to do, how they had to move around each other. Sometimes it felt like a dream, how everything came so easy with Hongjoong. How you didn't have to think twice about what you wanted from him and with him. And for all you knew, and all he had shown you across the time spent together, he didn't do that either. Every morning next to him felt like the luckiest one, and every night with him ended just the same. And you knew that if you were to live a hundred more years alongside him, you still wouldn't get enough of his embraces, or kisses or just simply him. There was nothing in the world that could cure the insatiable love you felt for the man in front of you.

As he pulled away from the kiss he gestured with his head behind you. "Now how about I clean the mess you made, and you make coffee for both of us? We have a book launch to attend, after all." you laughed and kissed him again.

*****

As your breath got heavier and your eyes started to burn up you unconsciously took your phone from the kitchen counter.

"a picnic would be perfect" you text your friend. The desire to get out of the prison your house has become, growing bigger by the second.

"Tell me if this isn't an appropriate question," you heard the man next to you say, derailing your train of thought as you directed your attention towards him. The weather is hot today, it really was a good call, suggesting a picnic. You haven't been on one in a long while and you missed feeling of how the calm of the nature overwhelmed most of your senses. Also, you couldn't handle a complicated social situation on this day. So it was perfect right now, laying on a blanket, stranded in a flower freckled field with none other than San. You turn your head towards him. " What made you want to go out today?" he completed, not looking at you. He was laying on his back, with one arm under his head and his eyes closed, as if he feared the reaction you were going to have to his words. You didn't blame him for asking. In a similar situation where the roles would be reversed, you knew for sure you would ask too. After all, you and San were made of many of the same things. " Don't get me wrong, I'm happy you agreed, but it didn't seem like you would." he adds.

"Some days my house feels like a torture chamber." you say turning on your side and facing him, supporting your head on your angled arm. He was so still, you could barely even notice the way he slowly breathed in and out. It was as if the sun was painting his portrait and he was afraid to move, to not mess it up. Every ray that was falling on his exposed skin seemed to caress him the way a lover does.

"And some days it does its job." you completed after returning on your position on your back, mimicking his. "Today just didn't felt like one of the days I'd like to be tortured." you finished and felt his gaze on you right before you closed your eyes. If you thought he seemed worried, you made sure not to address it.

"One time when I was little, I was playing with a friend of mine," you smiled, realizing this is just the beginning of one of his captivating stories. "I don't remember how we got to that point, but he left me in a room and said he was gonna lock me there, and so he got out and he did." a bit darker than what he usually tells you, but still intriguing.

"At first I thought it was fun, that we would take turns locking each other in the room but he wasn't coming back. The room had only one window but it was locked when I tried to open it and get out. So I just waited. I think hours passed, it was getting dark and I was getting worried and hungry, thought I'll be stuck there forever, until it crossed my mind. I never even tried to open the door. Turns out it didn't even have a keyhole."

"San, if you're trying to put me to sleep with this one, just know it doesn't really work." you say smirking, still holding your eyes closed as you let the sun bathe your face.

"I'm not, Y/N. I'm trying to tell you that most of the times, the doors aren't locked. We just think that they are." he responds and you open your eyes to look into his. His look is full of compassion, and a bit of sadness that you choose to overlook. You finally understand what he means to tell you and you realize he is right. But even if a door isn't locked, you shouldn't open it unless you're ready to do so. You gently touch the back of his hand, and he is quick to caress your fingers with his thumb, changing his focus to where your hands are joined.

"Thank you," your words came out more like a whisper than you would've liked. "I know I don't do much for you...but I'm hoping I'm not that much of a nuisance, like I feel I am." he turns his hand, joining his fingers with yours and making eye contact with you. The simple gesture of affection made your head dizzy in a way you haven't felt in a long time. Your heart creaks up a little.

"You couldn't be one even if you tried," he said, his gaze lazily tracing the outlines of your face. You were the most beautiful thing he's ever seen in his life, even now. Even after all the hardships you've been through, and that you're still going through. The adoration his heart held for you never stopped burning, no matter how much he wished for it to do so. For San, loving you was as easy as it sounded and as hard as it could get. Setting his eyes on the bags under your eyes he recalled a memory that stood like a scar on his brain. Your eyes were so dark that day, your eye bags a shade of purple he hadn't seen on any painting quite yet. Your lips were pale and chapped and your skin looked like it lost all its pigment.

Black didn't suit you so well, he thought. Not when it was worn the way you were wearing it then.

But the worst came when it was time to say goodbye. He still remembered your cries and wails and it made the skin on his spine tremble in its place. Could he ever forget how, on that day, you looked like the angel of death?

Now you looked better...like life was coming, little by little, back into your body, and the pure sunlight was definitely helping it. He should let the sun see you more often, he thought.

You pulled your hand from his when you felt like his eyes were analyzing your features for a bit too long. Rising in a standing position, you started examine the insides of the basket he prepared.

"Oh my God! You brought me watermelon!" you shouted loudly as you took the container holding the red pieces of fruit in it. The only thing San could do at your reaction was laugh, throwing his head back to look at the puffed up white clouds.

Four days since you brushed your teeth, three since you showered, two since you changed your clothes, one since you ate, and one year, eleven months and fourteen days since you've last held the love of your life in your arms. But, hey, who's keeping count anyways?

Time loses all its meaning when you confine yourself like you are some dangerous animal meant to be locked up in a cage. Between the moments you try to stay awake and the ones you try to sleep, you have little to remember. The only thing that gives a little light to the fog in your brain is San. His stories in the middle of the night, conversations you happen to have during the day and occasional meetings that you're always the one to initiate. He always makes you feel good, always picks the right words to say and you don't know how he has the patience for such things. You love and hate him for it. You love him for being such a considerate and kind person, and you hate him for making you forget. It's strange when you get home and reality dumps on you at the front door. The reality you actually live in and not one you indulged yourself to have with San for a few hours. It's just...with him everything is colorful and melodic but when you get home the only thing you hear are your sighs echoing off the walls back into your ears. You wished you could be stuck in the feeling you have around him forever, but at the same time, every time you have that feeling you feel guilty for it. Like it's impossible to allow yourself any sort of break.

The last days have been impossible to get through. All you did was look around at the mess that was around you. A mountain of clothes, waiting to be washed for weeks now, a sink full of dishes and mugs, lots of crumpled sheets on the ground ( proof of all your tries to put something together). Everything was a disaster, inside and out. You had no willpower to do anything about it but you knew that the more you would stay in a shitty space, the more you would feel like shit. So for the first time in months, you opened the window.

*****

He placed the two mugs on the windowsill as he opened the window, allowing the cold breeze of the morning to brush over the exposed skin. He watched you closely as you made sure to turn off the stove and place the coffee pot in the sink. Your eyes met his as you felt the cold air run down your back, giving you shivers. He smiled contentedly at the sight of your body slowly shuddering. The "window" habit was a thing Hongjoong let into the relationship since the beginning of it. It was crazy for you how sometimes you caught him doing it first thing after waking up. You loved to watch him open the window and inhale the morning air with his elbows pressed against the wooden frame. Those moments wouldn't last long, but you treasured them more than he maybe thought about it. There was a thing about this domestic life, and seeing him do his own rituals that had you turn into quite the observer.

"You love to make me cold, don't you?" you smile brightly getting closer and closer, until you reach the space right in front of him.

"Angel, you're so hot in the morning that I'm afraid you might overheat. I need to cool you down a little, don't I?" he says on his usual cheeky tone, the one you grew to love in such little time. As he places his hand on your hip, you take a sip of your coffee. Like your actions served as a reminder of the hot liquid resting in his mug, he does the same.

"I can think of some other ways you could cool me down..." you say as you hook your finger on the front waistband of his pajama pants, sliding it from left to right. He chuckles in his mug and pulls you closer. Your chests rise in unison as you look each other in the eye, you don't say anything but this moment feels like a promise neither of you wants to break.

He looks to his left, at the city and at the people. Taking advantage of the opportunity, you place a few slow kisses on his jaw.

"I want us to find a new place," he says scooping you up as you squeal in surprise. You hook your legs behind his waist instantly while he walks towards the bedroom. "I want a balcony." He completes before kissing you and you laugh into the kiss, thinking of the many ways you two could make use of said balcony. He sure was thinking the same thing you did, giving how he started laughing as well.

His laugh was the only thing you ever wanted to hear again.

*****

You look down at the windowsill and see the brown marks in the body of two circles imprinted on the wooden surface. You always told him to use the damn coasters. Now the wood was stained. Permanently stained. Permanently ruined. Just like you were.

As you get on with cleaning you try to keep your brain busy with thoughts like what you should do after you finish a task, and what you should do after that one is finished as well. You thank yourself for choosing to clean, as you get out of the shower and throw yourself into the bed. Not only does it now smell like flowers, but you're also tired enough for sleep to steal you the minute you close your eyes.

"Ha! Check mate!" San exclaimed from the other side of the table you both were sat at. This was an odd activity that you had never done before. Playing chess, in a park, fully exposed to the summer sun. And you weren't even middle aged. Crazy to see how far the desperation to get out of the house will make someone go. But if it was with San, you were sure that there weren't many place where you wouldn't go.

"Your mind seems to be elsewhere," he said, angling his head innocently like the little puppies do when you tell them not to lick the outlet. His black hair was swooped out of his face, making his cheekbones pop out in a way you didn't think it was more humanly possible.

"Oh, you know damn well I suck at chess, San." you said kicking his queen with your finger. It became clear to him that you were an unfit partner for this game after like, the half of the first match. As the piece made contact with the chessboard, San tittered, making his eyes turn into crescents and his dimples scar his cheeks again.

"You just don't want to learn," he said as he started picking the pawns. You gave him a hand, collecting all the pieces on your side.

"You play the pawns when you still have the queen..." he offered a dramatic sigh as he clicked his tongue on the roof of his mouth. True, it was more comfortable to lose with the pawns than with the queen.

"How's the book going?" placing the game of chess in his backpack, he made eye contact with you as he pressed his elbows against the surface in between. You sigh.

"It's not," you admit thinking about all the documents you've erased the last month or every manuscript you tossed in the trash. Nothing was coming together and you hated every word after writing it. Not only was this process driving you mad but it also made you doubt all your abilities as a writer. People would expect more from someone who had a bestseller out there, you thought. But it wasn't your job to rise to anyone's expectation.

"Maybe I was just a one hit wonder." you say smiling sadly. It really did pain you to think that you weren't able to do the sole thing you ever thought yourself good at. But maybe, after you lived in a thousand realities in the past two years (as of today, maybe the reason why you wanted to get out of your home so bad), this was your new one. A reality in which you weren't able to write anymore. Fear was not even close to describe how you felt about the future.

"Don't kid yourself, I know you'll make it eventually." San offers, grabbing your hand in his. "You know, you should be the last person who is hard on yourself." he rubs your hand with his thumb. You wish you could pull away from his touch, or to at least want to pull away. But you don't. His touch is comforting and not a lot of things in your life are that way right now. As you look at him there is a sudden desire to punch yourself in the face, for the only thing that comes through your mind is to thank him again. As you did countless of times before. He did say he grew tired of it.

"You know what I'm in the mood for?" you avoid the subject successfully as he rises his eyebrows, showering you in all his undivided attention. "Drinking my sorrows at a shitty bar." you finish off, painting a big smile on your face. He mirrors it as he sighs through his teeth, letting go of your hand. He notices your intention to avoid talking about anything serious. Anything that might actually help you. You always do it, that is exactly why you talk to him only about nonsense and why, when you call him in the middle of the night (and when he always, always answers) you make him tell you a story. Leaving him to be the only one to talk as you doze off. Never leaving room for him to ask you what is wrong or what you dreamed of. Is how you got on until then, and maybe that is why it went so slowly, the whole "moving on" thing everyone was telling you about. But it was the thing that worked best for you, you figured. Not talking about the elephant in the room got you this far, you can go a little more like that.

"Well, I happen to know the perfect place for that," rising from his seat, he extends his hand towards you. "Shall we?"

You didn't know if it was the alcohol or the bar lights or simply just him. Honestly, you couldn't tell the difference between many things anymore, but as you looked at San talking, you felt more attracted to him than ever. The mole near his eyelid seemed more prominent now, and so did his muscular arms under the fitted shirt he wore, and oh, the freckles painting constellations on his neck. His eyes were sparkling brightly and his teeth were showing from time to time. You looked closely as he licked his lips after taking a sip of his beer. The way he was doing it seemed almost erotic. That one part of your brain that would feel bad for having these thoughts has died when you drank your fourth shot, but you were glad it did. You felt more comfortable now, and with San here, there was not a lot more that you would wish for. Not realistic wishes anyway.

"I need to know which side you stand on," he says angling his body towards yours. "Socks on or off during sleep?" San asks with a serious face, as if he asked if you enjoyed kicking puppies in the face or eating toddlers for dinner. You burst out laughing at the mix of the question and his expression.

"Off, I'm not a psychopath." you answer through your stilled laugh. He frowns.

"Oh no, you're definitely a psycho. Do your feet not get cold?" a bit of frustration could be heard in his voice.

"How would I know? I'm asleep the whole time." you sip from your drink. "Don't tell me you like pineapple on pizza as well..." you plead looking at him.

"And what if I do? It's a good combination! It's like mint chocolate, de-li-cious." San smiles proudly at his outrageous statements. Maybe he is not the person you thought he was. God, he told you so much and yet you still knew so little. That was one of the most intriguing things about him. That you felt like a lifetime wouldn't ever be enough for you to get to know him completely. Like everyday he would pick another thing to like, or something utterly new to do so he doesn't get bored. He always told you how he gets bored of things and people so fast. And yet there he was, still by your side. Maybe you were the mystery he didn't get to solve yet.

"Dude, not toothpaste too.." you cry out as you push his arm, but instead of pushing him, you push yourself. You almost lose your balance off the bar stool, but San's quick reflexes kick in and grab you by the arm, pulling you back in sitting position. He cackles as you try to maintain your balance.

"Maybe we should get you home." he says laying some bills on the bar. You hum in approval and get to your feet as you follow him out of the bar, which was indeed shitty. San is a man of his word.

The walk home was short and calm as you focused more on seeming sober than to what was happening around you. It already got dark as you two strolled past the abandoned streets laughing about things you unwillingly forgot as soon as you finished laughing. This moment, you thought to yourself, is the one that you would remember when a certain song plays. One that will give you the same sensations you feel in this moment. And far away from right now, when you know you will be better, when you listen to that certain song, you'll think wow, so much has changed. That moment could happen 10 days from now, or ten years. You don't know yet. But something about this uncertainty makes you relax somehow, knowing that you still have hope. And most of it is thanks to San. He may not be aware of all the things that he is helping you with, but you are. It's like a mental list that you never stop writing on. Could you ever repay him for any of it?

"Here we are," he says as he places his hand on your shoulder and you take a hold of his arm as he rattles on about not drinking anymore and going to sleep and whatever else he decided to nag you about. Your focus is only on his lips, and then his eyes, and his lips again, and his hand on your arm, and then feeling his arm flexing underneath your touch, and the feeling of being taken care of by someone. You realize you don't want this night to end quite yet.

"Do you wanna come in?" you interrupt, and observe his quick reaction of rapidly shutting his mouth and widening his eyes.

"I could use a live storytelling session right now." you add.

What where you asking for exactly? As you looked at him hesitate for a bit, you weren't sure that you knew either. But after a few seconds of looking around, he hums in approval as he nods and follows you inside your home. It's not as clean as you would wish but not as messy as to apologize for anything. You both take off your shoes and walk into the open space living room. Feeling San's presence close behind you, you turn and signal for him to sit down on the couch as you go to a little counter.

"I have vodka, whiskey and some cherry liquor," you turn your head back towards him. He was sitting on your couch now. But not how someone who entered their friend's apartment for the first time would be expected to sit, no. Because he didn't have that posture of "oh, I don't want to make myself comfortable because my presence here is out of place". No. He looked like he fucking owned the place. Like he payed the bills. Like he chose every single piece of decoration there was inside your home. And you weren't mad about it, if you were being honest. The everlasting confidence that was emanating out his every pore always looked good on him. His legs were spread apart, and you didn't forbid yourself to spend more than a few seconds scanning his thighs, thinking of numerous ways you could make use of them. Prominent Adam's apple marked his throat as his head was thrown back over the backrest. It seemed that he moved in slow motion, lazily pulling his head up and in your direction.

"Glass of whiskey would be nice." he answered through a half pout as his hands splayed even more on the higher edge of the couch. Obeying his orders, you unconsciously let his choice be the one you make as well, so you pour the liquid in two glasses. The strong scent hits you immediately, and you know you won't be able to drink it, the alcohol in your system will reject this on the spot if you dared adventure too far. But you decided back when you invited your friend into your house, tonight was the night you were going to test your limits.

You sit yourself on the couch, next to the man you hide your desire for not so well, closer than you usually would. And he seems to observe regarding the fact that he appears to be leaning a bit into you. Maybe it's in your head. He sips from the glass you hand him, licking his lips again, the gesture he did at the bar seems to be hitting you in a certain, already wet, spot in between your legs as it did a little time ago. He hums right after swallowing the drink, you follow with interest the way his Adam's apple moves up and down. Why is he being so unworldly attractive tonight? Is it really the alcohol or has the sexual tension finally built up enough for you to not be able to take it anymore. You feel an unexpected, but not unwelcomed, ache in your heart and stomach and definitely in your pussy. He places the glass down, with careful fingers, on the table before you and resumes his previous stance, except now one of his hands chooses to rest on the thigh closer to you. You admire it from respectable distance, one which you weren't sure you'd be able to maintain for too long. His hands were clean, nails kept short on his slender long fingers, and the rings adorning them only completed the way his veins were traveling down the back of his palm. Will there ever be a time where you could look at Choi San and not like what you see? Highly doubtful.

"That's some good shit," finally his face catches your attention, and happily so. He looks at you through his lashes, smirking with one corner of his beautiful mouth. You wondered how his lips might feel. On yours, on your neck, your chest, everywhere. "never took you for a whiskey person."

"I'm not," you say through a bittersweet smile and you realize that maybe you really, desperately need the alcohol right now, so you chug some of it down. "it's been laying around." you finish the sentence and then the glass of whiskey and you place it down the table, next to his. The contrast of the glasses, one empty and one half full, makes you amused in some kind of way. It let's you reminiscence of the many times that you heard from a certain someone, how you were always rushed in the most unfit situations. It was true.

As you look back to San, you feel like you are left with no choice than laying on your back and placing your head on his lap. So you do, maybe slower than you feel you move in your drunk-dazed mind. As you nuzzle the back of your head into his thighs, you close your eyes, for your vision was getting blurry and the room slowly spun around.

"You can begin anytime." you sigh out and feel him shifting a bit underneath you. He chuckles lowly and it takes him a few moments to adjust to the situation presented before him, it would be strange to you too. These were exactly the kind of things that you hesitated to do with San, because you partly knew his feelings for you, so you didn't want to give too much water to the well. Exactly the kind of intimacy that would leave room to hope for more, want more.

And not only from his side.

"I met this girl a while ago," he starts and softly places his hand on top of your head, massaging your scalp and slowly pulling at strands of your hair. "she's the whole package. Smart, funny, kind and so fucking hot." , safe to say you don't expect his last words to hit you like they do. A tad bit of jealousy makes its presence felt in the bottom of your heart, thinking that there might be a possibility that he doesn't refer to you. But the slow strokes his fingers offer your head make you feel too good to give it any importance.

"She's got this thing about her, I don't know how to even say it. It's like every time we talk, we knew each other since birth and like the first time we ever met, all at once. It's incredible, really." the way he talked was how you only heard people talk in movies. Hopeless romantic to the very end.

"Sounds like she's got you head over heels." you huff out slightly annoyed.

"Yeah, you'd be shocked," silence following his words, words that had a heartbroken nuance to them. He continues to massage your head and his touch feels so good, so comforting, so familiar. Like he did it every time he saw you, like he at least imagined doing it every time. "she really loves my stories." he adds after what seems to be like forever, and his hand stops, pulling itself out of your proximity. Your eyes shoot open and you find his gaze upon you. At the same time he looks sad, his eyes are also filled with anticipation, of what is to come, of how you would react to the fact that he just confirmed it was you he talked about. You sit up, trying not to let the slight dizziness in your head get the best of you and turn to him. Faces close to each other, studying him one last time before things change between you two. He wants it. And you clearly want it. Both of you so bad that it's not even a surprise how you meet halfway into a kiss. You thank the universe in your head, for it being this way. For you to not beat yourself up too much later that you initiated anything. So you let yourself sink into the feeling of him, his smell intoxicating. You know that it will be hard to not feel it in your lungs for a long time after this, and you were happy for it to be that way. Your lips are shy at first, not used to kissing anymore, not used to someone who hasn't kissed you before. But the feeling is more than pleasant. He takes his time, slowly nipping away at your bottom lip, swiftly pushing his tongue into your mouth. Your teeth clash and you both smile, licking into each other's mouths a bit more. His lips are soft and so warm, this feeling has long been forgotten by your mind. He pulls away and you gasp for air, he reaches to brush the hair out of your face and cups your face gently, looking into your eyes with a glimmer you were sure you haven't seen on him before. But you knew exactly what it meant.

"I don't want it if you don't." he says, assuring you once again that his actions will only be made for your comfort.

"I can't even tell you how bad I want it." your voice soft as it answers, and after receiving your words with wonder on his face, San downs the whiskey left in his glass, only to rush kissing you right after he gulps it down. If the first kiss was both of you navigating uncharted waters, now you were both desiring more. Hungrily devouring each other, whiskey tasted so much better on his tongue. You climbed into his lap as he pulled you closer to his chest. Serving as a reminder, you needed to get that shirt off of him. And as you helped him get rid of it, you weren't even surprised of how he looked even better than what you kept picturing all night. He returned the favor of undressing you of your shirt, and briefly cupped your breasts through your bra as he pulled you into another kiss. His hands quickly running to your waist, pulling you deeper into his lap, feeling him get hard underneath you, moment by moment. One of his palms traveled down to massage your butt cheek through your jeans, and the other quickly moved up to unhook your bra deftly with steady fingers.

"You must be popular with the ladies." you whisper close to his mouth and he chuckles.

"Not with the ones I want." he replies and you jokingly slap his bicep in response. He pulls the bra off throwing it somewhere nearby and admires your chest for a second too long before taking one of your nipples in his mouth. You throw your head back and whimper at the feeling of his tongue swirling around the sensitive part of your breasts. You tangle your fingers in his hair as you try to slowly ride his thigh, feeling the need to get rid of the tension in some kind of way. He let's your nipple out of his mouth with a lewd pop and laughs as he glues his hand to the back of your head, forcing you to look into his eyes.

"Darling if you want something you just need to ask," he brings his mouth over to your chest, planting sprinkled kisses along your collarbones. "my thigh? my fingers? my cock?" he asks in between suctions on the soft, sensitive skin of your neck. You were so sexually frustrated that you thought you were going to cry, and his words definitely didn't help. If something, they only made the tightness in your belly feel even tighter. "Which one will it be?" he asks finally as his eyes find yours again. You barely manage a pathetic whimper as he let's go of your head to unbutton your jeans. His hand slides slowly until it meets the band of your panties, but it doesn't go further, his eyes stopping on your face.

"Fuck, San, I want everything." you finally verbalize for him, your words laced with desperation for him to take things further. He closes his eyes and smiles in satisfaction when hearing your words, resuming the attack on your neck, biting down some marks here and there. His fingers finally get a hold of your clit and you shudder at the sensation. The circular motions he starts only make you moan his name quietly, through whimpers. It's been so long since you touched yourself like that, let alone somebody else. Masturbation was a thing you couldn't get back into since everything happened. Every time you tried, your mind only pictured Hongjoong, and it always ended with you crying without releasing in any kind of way. That was how you spent the last two years of your life, no wonder you were sexually frustrated. But now, the only thing on your mind was San, and how you could get him to make you cum faster. The position wasn't really a favorable one, he didn't have much access and so, his movements were limited and slow. San sinks his hand further down, teasing your hole with his middle finger, coating it in your arousal.

"You're so wet baby," he slowly pushes his finger into you, wandering into your inside, and your tightness. It did definitely feel like rain after a long drought. He pumped his finger inside you a few times, adding an extra one after a few seconds, stretching you in a way that has become unfamiliar but satisfying all the same. He fastened his pace and you unconsciously started to ride his fingers, chasing after your long awaited release. It wouldn't last too much, taking in consideration that you haven't orgasmed in so long. Your left hand was on San's nape, anchoring you to some sort of reality that he was indeed there, and the other one was on his chest. It wasn't much longer until your body conjured the estranged feeling in your tummy, you were close. San seemed to read your thoughts once again as his movements came to a halt, you offered a frustrated whimper in return. He lifted you up of his lap and placed you on your back next to him. He helped you get rid of your jeans and then your panties.

"I know you want to cum, but I want you to do it in my mouth." his face in between your thighs, breath fanning over your aching core. This time he didn't wait for a verbal response anymore, and you were glad he didn't. His warm tongue licked a long swipe starting from your hole to your clit, his mouth latched to it with sensual movements, sucking and licking at it, taking all the time in the world.

"Ho...ly fu-fuck," you gasped as you threw your head back into the cushion of the couch, arching your back under his ministrations.

His tongue was skilled, and so were his fingers when they slid inside you for the second time tonight. He curled them up, hitting your g-spot every time he pumped them in. Your body shuddered hardly at the sensation.

"Feel good?" he asked looking up at you, for the first time since he positioned you like this, you looked down at him. And what a sight for sore eyes, so lewd that if you looked at it for long enough you would cum without him needing to do anything to you anymore.

"So good," you reply and place one of your hands into his raven hair when he continues abusing your sensitive bud in the best way you could think of, he continues his movements with his tongue and his fingers, and it's only a matter of seconds until it builds up. You pull at his hair as he deepens his head in between the thighs that are now clenched around his head and it finally all becomes too much for you.

"Fuck....San....ahh," you cry out whilst shutting your eyes tightly, thing that makes you see stars in the back of your head.

You feel proud for satisfying his wish. San seems too feel so as well. You come undone on his fingers, and he pulls them out quickly to attend your releasing wetness with his inpatient tongue, you feel as if you could pass out from the soft stimulation. Such a long time since you've had an orgasm and this might have been the best way to have one.

"Fuck, you taste so good," he says as he slowly rises and takes his place above you, letting you have a taste yourself as he kisses you, swirling his wet muscle in every corner of your mouth, making sure none of it is getting left untouched by him. You sure do taste better on his tongue. Feeling his hard dick press on the inside of your thigh, in all its dizziness, your brain only wants more.

"Can we go to the bedroom?" you ask nicely, only to be met once more with San's surprised face. Like the thought that you still might want more never crossed his mind. He helps you up by the waist and lets you guide the way to the room. As you enter the it you quickly run to the bed, throwing yourself on it as you giggle like you're high, and you might as well be. High hormones had the same effect as weed for you. San only shakes his head with a smile on his face, while looking down and getting his belt off. Shit, this is really happening. Really finally happening. He slowly approaches the bed, ridding himself of his pants as he reaches the edge of it. Your friend pulls down his boxers as well, and you watch closely as his erect member is finally out of its entrapment, it springs up vividly, slapping against his torso. You're left in surprise at the sight of his girthy, definitely above average long, cock. You bite your lip involuntarily and he laughs to your reaction.

"You don't need to," you quickly blurt out as soon as you see him pulling a condom from his wallet. "I mean...I'm clean, if so are you then..." well it's safe to say you've became quite a desperate little thing during your two, deprived of sex, years. "then, we don't need to worry." you finish your sentence.

"You sure?" he asks for confirmation once again.

"Yeah, 'm sure." you respond and beckon him with your index finger. He muffles out a swear word you don't quite register as he drops the condom from his hold, quickly climbing on the bed. He crafts a better position above you, kissing you gently as he lines up his tip with your entrance. You whine in anticipation, lips still attached to his own, softer ones. He slowly pushes himself inside, taking lots of time to make sure your tightness grows comfortable around him. It hurts. Not only it is the first time with San, it felt like the first time altogether. At first, it seemed like your damn hymen grew back. Ironic, considering the amount of sex you used to have. You frowned as you whimpered softly into his mouth. He quickly broke the kiss, watching you with a slightly panicked look on his face.

"Hey, you all right?" he brushed the hair out of your face with his right hand, holding his weight on his left arm. You slowly started to get used to him, your whole body relaxing noticeably when seeing his face.

"Yeah, you can move." you stated with a voice glazed with desire. He did as asked, moving his hips in slow strokes, every time trying to deepen himself more inside you. He groaned each time his dick reached a new part of you.

"Fucking hell, how are you so fucking tight?" he lets out in a tone that almost seems annoyed with the state of your pussy.

"You...are the first...since then." you speak in between craving moans. He shudders at your words, stopping for a second, as he buries his forehead in the crook of your neck.

"Well, damn, princess. Should've let me stretch you out sooner." he whispers into your ear. And that is by far the most obscene thing that has left his lips tonight. He started moving again, this time picking a pace that had you crying out for his name. You couldn't think of much else when San was fucking you, his cock kindly brushing over a certain sweet spot every time it reached its depth. His dick and your pleasure occupied most of the place inside you and your mind, respectively. But at one point, you did try to recall how exactly you ended up right there. Somewhere along the way of finding the answer, you realized it didn't matter how, it mattered that it did. And the strokes that San was driving into you only made you thank the universe that it happened. Following after his release, he increased his speed. His voice was starting to get raspy after groaning and moaning, as did yours, both of your throats dry now.

"I...I think I'm gonna cum..." he whispered in your ear, and you immediately understood the question hiding behind his words. Your mind was in a state of debate for a few too many seconds. In or out? The only person that ever came in was him. In or out? But you wanted San to cum inside you so badly. In or out? That wouldn't be fair. In or out? But why wouldn't it be?

"Inside." you determinately say. His movements begin to grow messy, losing rhythm. He immerses into you deep, almost knocking you out with the way his cock is so richly stuffed inside you, and he let's out an angelic cry as he fills you up with white ropes of his hot seed. With his forehead glued to your shoulder, San pauses to catch his breath for a few seconds, before pulling his body up to get better vision of you. He cups your cheek and kisses you softly once again, pulling himself apart from you quicker than expected.

"You're so beautiful," he brushes his thumb over your lips. "I could look at you for all eternity." your heart thumps heavily when hearing his words. It made no sense for you how someone who looked like him, could tell you that you're beautiful. It seemed so far away from your reality, but still, you were thankful. At a loss for words, and only giving a shy smile in return, San mirrors it as he ascends and then throws himself in the empty space next to you. The only thing that is heard the next few minutes is both of your breaths as your chests heave. You nuzzle up into San's side, he embraces you with his arm as you grab him by the waist, laying your head on his chest. He kisses you on the crown of your head as he starts humming a melody that you don't think you've heard yet. Nonetheless, sleep gets a hold of your tired body and mind quickly, and you don't know if it's the alcohol that creates an illusion, or if it's just San's presence, but throughout your dreams you feel as if you are guarded by an angel.

Easily the best sleep you've had in a while. You are reminded of how easy it is to fall asleep on someone else's shoulder, just as you wake up.

*****

Before you met him you always thought you were better at spending time alone than you were at spending time with others. Now your thoughts had changed about the matter. It was like you were made only for being in Hongjoong's company, and when you were, you felt at peace. Like nothing could affect you ever again. The moments after sex were the ones you loved most, it almost felt like after your bodies were joint, your souls were getting combined as well, while laying on one another. He had his warm hand draped against your waist, playfully tracing circles on your soft skin, humming whatever song came to his mind. Your hand was on his bare chest and your head in the crook of his armpit. If you would be stuck in a time loop made only of this moment, you would never get sick of it.

The heat his body was emanating seemed to strangely warm you up from inside out, and the smell that was around the two of you was making your mind dizzy and your lungs crave for more. Feeling his chest rise as he inhaled and exhaled made you realize that your breaths were in sync, and hearing his heartbeat, you were sure they were too, in sync with yours. For you, loving Hongjoong was such a natural thing to do, like you two were extensions of each other and worked at full capacity only when together. His fingers slowly took a hold of your hand which he brought to his lips, he kissed it and then squeezed it tightly. You looked up into his eyes. His beautiful eyes sprinkled with love and adoration as he watched you.

"I think that every day I spend with you, I find a new meaning to love." he brushes your cheek gently and you stay silent, your mind in a stage of awe at how greatly he sums up the things you feel, without even talking to each other. You smile as you kiss him again and again and again.

"Then let's find a new meaning to love together for the rest of our lives," still standing close to his face, you see him smile and you do as well. You knew that even in the darkest of days, his smile would always lighten up your whole world. He pecks your lips again and suddenly tries to get up from the bed, the coldness you feel not only in your body, but your heart as well, wraps around your mind and you quickly grab his hand. He stops and kneels on the bed, looking at your uncovered body still on display for the flame that takes ahold in his enchanting eyes.

"We'll be late..." he says as he gets closer to you. That wouldn't be a problem, you think. The author should be allowed to be late to their own book release, right?

"Ten more minutes," you plead as you pull him towards you. He smirks and let's you take control of both his mind and body, as he lays on top of you, filling you up with the heat emanating from his body once again. After all, ten minutes wasn't that much, right?

*****

There it was. The selfishness that has made you lose him. The selfishness that brought you here with San. Everything was your fault. You lost so much of yourself the day you lost Hongjoong, but you were sure your last bit of humanity was completely lost the day you let Choi San believe that you could love him the same way he did. How could you be so reckless? You couldn't even blame the alcohol anymore, only your fucking stupidity. You used the only friend left that you cared about, as a rebound. And he doesn't even know. You looked up at the man who was holding you tight against his chest, as if not to lose you. He was still asleep. His natural unflawed beauty made your heart exclaim in agony as you traced his features with your gaze. As thoughts were overwhelming your mind, you placed your head in its initial position. Your eyes were starting to sting when tears started to form up.

You were the worst there was, weren't you? You killed your boyfriend and you deceived your friend into being your distraction, from all the pain and guilt, in more than one way. You didn't recognize yourself anymore, not after so much time of ignoring all your thoughts and suppressing all your feelings thinking it would get better. It didn't get better, the opposite actually, seeing where you stand right now. It was all because of you, and your selfishness, and it could've all be avoided if you didn't wish for fucking ten more minutes.

You started quivering and sobbing.

"Hey, hey, what's wrong?" San confusedly asks. This should be a sight to see as soon as you open your eyes. The girl you were balls deep in the night before, crying in front of you the morning after. Comforting you came natural to him, like he has been doing it for all his life. And you realized he did do it, not for all his life, sure, but since it happened. He has done his best to comfort you in every way he could. And he always succeeded. And this is how you repaid him. How could you be such a fucking asshole?

"San you need to...you have to leave...I'm sorry." you say through sniffles as it gets harder and harder for you to control the tears pouring down your face. You cannot look him in the eyes but you do get a peek at his grave look, how he looks down, unsure of what to do.

"Did I do something?" he quietly asks with a certain thread of fear in his voice, as if he was terrified of what his question might cause. You wish you could tell him that at the same time he didn't do anything, he also did too much. His kindness and love were too overwhelming for you in the state you were in.t. No matter how much he tried, his love couldn't repair you. You were the only one who could do that, but for what felt like the longest time, you didn't want to do it. Maybe it was time to try now.

"God, no..." you barely manage to blurt out. Speaking seems like the most tiring thing to do right now. "I just have to be alone right now." trying to stop your tears briefly, you look him in the eyes as he retracts his hands off of you. And you can't help but feeling it again, even if you know that it's not the case. Abandoned. Once again, and like the first time, it was all because of you. He got up from the bed, quickly dressing himself in the heavy silence that was surrounding both of you. You slowly hugged your knees to your chest, slightly burying your head in the space that you created. Maybe it wasn't for the best to be left alone but you were afraid of what might happen if you weren't. You saw San walk to your front door, put on his shoes and look at you for a last time. You looked up at him with teary eyes.

"Y/N, I..." love you. He didn't need to enunciate it, you could already see it on his face, how much it hurt him to leave you in this mess, all alone. Whatever you felt for him was so hard to decipher in the amalgam of things that were dwelling inside of you. And it was even harder to accept that you did have certain feelings for him, stronger that you would've liked. He sighed and slowly shook his head, looking down. You saw him leave and then you didn't see much anymore. As bitter tears that flooded your eyes slowly slid into your mouth. Painful screams were tumbling out of your chest giving you no chance to control them. As you get up off the bed you start grabbing whatever comes first and throwing it around. Cradled papers, books off of shelves, tiny decorations on your desk. You reach a framed photo of you and Hongjoong and stop for a second to look at it. Back at the beginning of your relationship when you went to a museum. It started snowing so much that his black coat turned white. You still remembered the cold weather of that period but the warmth of his smile was burning still, even through the damn picture. A few of your tears stained the glass of the photo and after you whimpered in the discomfort you felt around your heart, like someone was squeezing it in their fist, you threw it on the wall across from you. Did you really have to destroy everything nice in your life? As soon as it shattered to pieces you rushed towards it, as if you were not expecting the completely obvious to happen.

"No, no, no..." you whisper to yourself in disbelief. You slowly pick the broken glass in your shaking hands as your crying only gets louder, rivers of tears flowing down your face when your eyes can't seem to look anywhere else but at the old photo.

"I miss you so fucking much..." you whimper in pain, like a dog being beaten.

It's pure torture, you realize, what you're doing to yourself. It takes a lot for your now bloody palms to make contact with your face and wipe your tears, only leaving more of a mess behind. The flesh, now torn from picking up the thin pieces of broken glass, stings when your salty tears slide over the bloody trails and as you rise up with wobbly legs to throw it in the trash, you find yourself looking out the same window you stood with your lover on his last day beside you. Your tears suddenly came to a halt as you looked at the city lights near and far away; your breathing steadied and you remembered.

I want a balcony.

How were you supposed to move on, when you haven't even moved out?

You never felt so nervous for anything in your life before. The microphone was waiting for you on the warmly illuminated stage. You took shy steps towards it as the people started to applaud loudly, you were sure you heard someone whistle from the crowd. As you got in front of the microphone stand you placed one hand on it, dragging it closer. You were not sure how to do this. It should've been your second time, but due to the incidents back then, it was the first time in your life you had to speak at your own book release. Or even attend it. You inhaled deeply and looked through the crowd once more. Your eyes met Seonghwa's as he slightly raised the glass of champagne towards you. The pity he laid upon you with the help of his gaze a while back had turned into pride. You couldn't help but remember the surprise on his face when you went not to his office, but his house, at two in the morning, when you finally finished writing.

You spent the night together, he began reading and you fell in and out of sleep on his couch. When you woke up, he made breakfast for you and he told you how great it was, with the little eternal side notes from his side. He was proud.

"I have no idea what I should say," you offer a strong beginning, everyone starting to chuckle at your awkward comment. "I've been through hell and back writing this book. Two years and a half ago I lost the love of my life in a car accident, and for a long time I thought I lost everything." the room became suddenly tense as you spoke the words.

"But this should be a reminder that some doors aren't closed. We just think that they are." you finish off raising your glass and looking at a familiar pair of eyes. Everyone cheers as you get off the stage, and after receiving compliments from your boss, your team and other people as well, you follow the suited silhouette that you've been secretly chasing with your stare all night, outside.

"Hey," you greet as you find San on a bench right next to the venue. His eyes meet yours and for a brief second it's like all the nerves you had on stage came back, but they were doubled this time. It was hard going through everything without San. He tried to contact you, of course, but you weren't giving him much and the only times you saw him were when you ran into each other at work. When you looked at yourself in the mirror you couldn't recognize yourself anymore, but he? He was just the same. Dressed for the occasion, his black hair swiped back neatly and his face...as gorgeous as ever, and the most beautiful thing you've ever seen.

"Hey," he greets back as he drags his body on one side of the bench, signaling for you to join him. You sit beside him and look forward, feeling his eyes on your figure. "how have you been?" he asks, his voice glazed in worry. You made him suffer for the last time, you tell yourself. The whole ghosting thing and all the times you avoided him, those summed up the last time you were going to ever hurt him. For now you were working towards slowly healing the wound that has scarred you, which gave you more clarity about a lot of things.

"Better." you answer, looking in his direction. "I finally got it out!" you add smiling, a bittersweet smile that you held inside for a long time, it was for him only.

"I told you." San mimics your smile and looks into the distance.

"You did," moments of silence accompany as you think of the best way to embody your thoughts into words. "I never got to apologize." you start and his head shoots right at you. "I'm sorry. For using you to try and fuck my pain away." finally saying it aloud to him and getting it off your chest make your lungs finally not burn up when you try to inhale.

"I should apologize too," he begins and it's your turn to look at him with confusion.

"A part of me was aware that you were trying to do that and yet I wasn't able to stop myself." he adds. And it's like some part of you already knew, and already forgave him for it and that was because you knew you had way more blame than him, but you learned to come to terms with it, like you did with many things in your life. Learning to forgive yourself wasn't an easy process, but with the help of a good therapist, you slowly learned how to do it. You were at peace with a few of the things that kept you awake during the night. Slowly getting better.

"I'm sorry." he says and you're sure that more honest words had never left his mouth.

You take his hand into yours and place it on your lap. For the first time since you know him, his hands are cold. You use your other palm as a blanket and cover his hand from the cold winter breeze outside. He nurtured for you enough, it was finally time that you were ready to return the favor.

"I read the book," he says, looking at your hands holding each other.

"Lots of them are inspired from your stories," you refer to the poems, thinking of how many more were written with your mind only thinking about him that didn't even make the cut into the book. "and lots of them are inspired from you." You look into his eyes as he squeezes your hand gently. Maybe you didn't yet know what you wanted. But you knew what you didn't want. And you didn't want to lose San. Not again. Not ever.

"Can I take you out on Thursday?" he asks as his gaze stills down on your warm face. If he asked you this on a bad day, you still weren't sure what your answer would be, but today was a good day. You never got to say goodbye to Hongjoong, but that didn't mean you couldn't say hello to anyone ever again. "You know, in case you need more inspiration for your next masterpiece." he adds and you laugh shortly while nodding quickly. You spend a few more minutes in silence, enduring the cold air, silently revealing to each other the most vulnerable parts of you. You look down at your joined hands and then into his eyes. You smile, partly because you do feel happy, and the rest because you know he'll do the same, and hell, you fucking missed that dimpled smile of his.

The man doesn't say anything when you lean your head on his shoulder, but you are almost sure you can hear his heart beating faster. "I missed you so much." you finally say, letting your feelings pour out in front of San for the first time, leaving you vulnerable in a way no one has seen you since then.

And for the first time, while looking at the bright clear sky above you, you think for yourself that...He would be so proud.

[tiredfox64]

Hi! I love your work, especially your Bi-Han writings. Not sure if you're taking requests, but would you write something for Mavado x Reader? Honestly any prompt is fine, there's literally no Mavado/Reader content and we need some 😭

It Only Takes 7 Días

Yip notes: Everybody stfu and let me cook. Gotta make something sweet for the fuckin people. (PS I actually had this set up in my drafts before and this encouraged me to finish it seeing that others are desperate).

Pairing: Mavado x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Suggestive kinda?

Everyone knows Mavado dedicates himself to the Red Dragon clan. He’s a man who listens and obeys Daegon’s command. A man who will bring hellfire upon anyone who disturbs his clan such as Kabal and Kano. All he knows is his duty and his clan. He is uninterested in such things as dating.

Or so everyone thought.

Mavado isn’t dumb. He could never allow anyone to know about you. It’s for your own safety. Heaven forbid Daegon finds out about you, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill you just to keep Mavado’s attention. Kano and Kabal would do so much worse. They would probably hold you hostage to force Mavado into giving up every piece of information about the Red Dragon clan. He would never forgive himself if he let the one person he truly loves get hurt. He had to be all hush hush, sometimes meaning he spent little time with you. He’ll make it up to you. He’s a man of his word. This whole week will be for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

You heard tapping on your balcony door. Little taps as if rocks were being flicked against the glass. You got up from your bed and slid open the balcony door. When you looked down below you saw Mavado holding a bouquet of flowers just for you. He had a smug grin on his face. He knows how to capture your heart.

“Trying to make up for lost time?” You asked.

“I think it’s obvious, mi reina.” Relax, papi chulo.

You smile as you begin to back away from the railing of the balcony. You knew Mavado wouldn’t come up the regular way. You saw his grappling hook wrap around the railing before he flung himself up. Of course, he landed perfectly since he had done this a thousand times. He handed you the bouquet before placing a kiss on your cheek.

El domingo empieza el juego de seducción

It’s never just one kiss. It’s always more. On your cheeks, on your forehead, on your lips, and on your neck. His stubble lightly scratches your skin, causing you to giggle. His arms wrapped around your waist so he could pull you in close. You jokingly told him to stop but you knew he never would. In fact, he started placing quick kisses on your neck before returning to your lips.

“We should get you back inside. I’ll help warm you up.” He whispered in your ear before picking you up.

Anyone with a somewhat developed frontal lobe knows what’s about to happen. Mavado was being truthful. He would help warm you up…without any clothes on. Body heat does count. It worked, didn’t it? You were sweating and panting by the end of the night. Knocked you out and left you curled up in his arms.

Monday night, una velada entre tú y yo

By the morning, Mavado was already gone. That’s not unusual. What was unusual was how early you got to see him again. He was back by the early evening. The sun hadn’t fully set yet.

The moment you walked through the door he came up behind you to give you a hug. You were spooked at first before you felt that familiar scratch when he kissed your cheek. You immediately relaxed from his touch and he chuckled about your tiny freakout.

“What? You didn’t expect me to come back?”

“Not really. You’re not really a man who stays for two nights in a row.”

Mavado acted like he was shocked but his face did not portray that. He still had that devilish smirk on his face which meant he had plans for you and him.

“I did want to make up for lost time.”

“Does that mean we are going for a second round?” You asked with a grin.

“If that’s what you want. But I was thinking of something more romantic. Whatever you want, mi reina.” Good heavens, Mavado. You’ll strike the hearts of many.

That evening was romantic, Mavado made sure of that. A nice dinner and great music. He literally swept you off your feet. If you didn’t know how to dance bachata before you surely did now. You can’t live your whole life without knowing how to dance bachata.

And as you requested, you both had a second round in bed. The Devil’s Tango.

Martes, te hago mi novia en París

You were surprised to see Mavado still in bed with you in the morning. He really was staying to make up for lost time. His hands traced up your body as your eyes adjusted to the morning light. You looked so majestic to him with the way you looked so relaxed and the only thing covering you were the sheets.

“Good morning, sleeping beauty. You ready for another day with your favorite man?” He asked with a cocky tone.

“You plan to spoil me like you usually do?”

“Of course. And what better place to do it but in Outworld. The culture is rich I can assure you.”

A trip to another realm? Fancy. He’s not wrong either. He has traveled around Outworld and knows the best spots to find goods. The finest pieces of jewelry and best-designed clothes will be yours. Just say the word and Mavado will give it to you, one way or another.

Get ready, put your best outfit on, and don’t leave your place without a smile. Mavado wants that smile to stay on all day long.

By Wednesday, you'll love me the way it should be

Y el jueves, el anillo down on my knees te propongo matrimonio, dices que sí

The first half of the week was amazing. You couldn’t remember a time when you weren’t smiling or giggling. You thought that this week couldn’t get any better. You are wrong and for once, that’s a good thing.

You were standing outside on your balcony, watching the sunset. The sky was painted with yellow, pink, and orange. The golden light illuminated you beautifully. You were like a shining star in Mavado’s eyes. He came up beside you and you immediately rested your head on his shoulder. His hand rested gently on top of yours. You thought this was another romantic moment before you felt him messing with your ring finger. He was trying to lift it slightly and you felt something cold against it. You turned to look at him before pulling your hand away.

“Heh, I thought I was better at being sneaky. Well, guess I should be upfront with you.” He said.

You were confused about what he meant till you saw him get down on one knee. In his hand was the ring of your dreams. The band was the metal you wanted, shining in the light. The gem was your favorite and cut in the shape you desired. The ring was beautiful. This moment was beautiful. What do you have to say about this?

“Yes!”

Friday, we'll marry wherever you want

You guys got married in secret. No paperwork or the pope’s approval. Your love was true and that’s all that mattered. You guys killed two birds with one stone by having a destination wedding. Wherever you wanted, you went. It could have meaning or it could be fun. The choice was yours. Mavado would make it happen and follow through. All for his lovely bride.

Luna de miel es el sábado, hermoso final

The day after your makeshift wedding you two spent your time enjoying a new destination together. It’s a dream come true. But you did have one question for Mavado.

“I’m surprised you’re not quick to return to the Red Dragon. I would have thought you’d return to them sooner.”

“I am still loyal to my clan of course. But I am also loyal to you. The clan could wait, I couldn’t make you wait any longer.” He brought your hand up and placed a kiss on it.

Your new husband is truly loyal to you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

“Where is Mavado!” Daegon yelled in frustration.

This was unlike the cruel crime lord. He doubted Mavado got killed since he was always super careful. So where the heck was he?

“Maybe he’s got a girlfriend now.” Hsu Hao suggested.

Daegon snapped his neck to glare at the idiot. His eye might have started twitching as well.

“Hsu Hao, you’re a bigger idiot than my brother. You’re loyal, but an idiot. Never in a million years would Mavado waste his time by dating. Don’t say another word to me.”

Unfortunately for you, Daegon, Hsu Hao is right. There ain’t nothin you could do about it.

Yap notes: unfortunately we never had a chance 😭. I mean when his name is basically malvado (literally accidentally call him that all the time) could we really expect him to love?

This feels satisfying to do and finish. This may be very headcanony but what can you do when we haven’t seen him in a long time. I can’t even find much for him when it came to the 3D era so I can’t figure out his speech patterns. I did my best and I hope this makes some people happy. Adiós!

[lostfirefly]

Buggy x Reader Masterlist

I had to reorganize my masterlist a little because Tumblr doesn't allow adding new links) Sketches, OC's stories are here :)

• Heart of Courage You and Buggy are being held hostage by pirates (based on my dream) • Make my heart a better place, give me something I can believe You're a cook on the Buggy Pirates crew. During the year you have feelings for the captain, but you don't dare to say it, but you write about your feelings in poems. One day he finds your notebook (based on my personal poem) • If you wake up in your bed, alone in the dark, I'm sorry I gotta leave you before you love me You're the owner of a bar where one evening a blue-haired pirate comes and you both play a drinking game. Just a random shitty shit :) • Please don't say you're gone forever, 'cause I can't hurt no more

You're the flower shop owner who has a long-standing relationship with Buggy. You haven't seen each other much in the last few months. He finally arrives to see you, but he's overtaken by fit of jealousy during the dinner.

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

• Thank you, driver, for getting me here, you'll be an inspector, have no fear, I don't want to cause no fuss, but can I buy your Magic Bus? You and your sister are taking the bull to the farm. You board the only bus that can transport bulls, the driver of which is Buggy. Just a random shitty shit again :) • Can't find my peace and quiet, some things are better left in silence You were tormented by nightmares, you came to Buggy's bed. • Make my coffee sweet and warm, just the way you used to lie in my arms (nsfw!) You were sitting in a coffee shop for work. The barista was Buggy. • I need you here till the very end, so stay here with me Buggy had a hard day. You comb his hair and wash off his makeup. Fluffy shitty shit. • I will lay it at your feet, and I won't hold back anything, 'cause what you are is all, what you are is all of me You haven't seen Buggy for several days, he's throwing you a candlelit dinner. Fluffy fluff! • Secrets I have held in my heart are harder to hide than I thought, maybe I just wanna be yours You throw knives together with Cabaji. Buggy joins you. • If you sit down with this old clown, take that frown and break it, before the evening's gone away, I think that we could make it Your sister took you to a bar so she could meet someone. She saw Buggy, but he clearly showed interest in you. • Now hush little baby, don't you cry, everything's gonna be alright You and Buggy have a little daughter. The ship is moored, and you go to rest, leaving Buggy with the child. • Baby, baby when you're looking deep in my eyes, I know you're seeing past my make-up Buggy asks you to help him apply makeup. • They say it's your birthday, we're going to have a good time Buggy's birthday. You want to cheer him up. • But what am I gonna say, when you make me feel that way? (nsfw!) You came to visit Buggy in his office. • Storybook endings, fairy tales coming true, deep down inside we want to believe they still do Buggy tells a fairy story to children.

• Maybe You're My Enemy

You're the captain of the ship, and Buggy stole from you the map that you stole from him earlier.

Chapter 1