#codependent is not the same thing as a close relationship.... like AT ALL..

[tannieastrology]

Composite Observations

💔 Ive noticed that alot of long term couples have asteroid briede conjunct the sun which makes sense because its literally the asteroid of marriage and union.

💔 Cancer rising couples will find it very hard to leave each other even when they arent good for each other. From the moment these two meet they feel so comfortable with each other and will feel like "home". They are each others comfort people but ive often noticed that these relationships tend to stagnate especially if the rest of the chart has complicated placements. They are also very moody around each other lmfao. The fights get intense and almost "domestic" which is why its important to be careful w cancer placements because codependancy can become an issue.

💔Gemini Rising couples are so cute and fun omg. So flirty and when youre near them you wont even feel like youre third wheeling. The fun couple.

💔 Libra Rising/ Venus in 1st house omg literally everybody shipped us together. Everyone always assumed we liked each other(which i did but he didnt) and told us we had such good chemistry. We looked really good next to each other but it was hard getting close to him beyond that. Our Venus was in libra first house but it squared our 7th house ruler mars in the 10th house, so we argued alot since the day we met. Our arguements were public and everyone had an opinion but they also all shipped us at the same time lmfao. If you do tarot you would know that justice is represented by Libra so our entire friendship had themes of "justice" in it. Our disagreements sometimes became very bitter.

💔 About 10th house mars, im starting to not like this placement ngl. I definitely feel like in this house it acts more as a malefic. There will be power struggles and difficulties seeing eye to eye if AFFLICTED. I think if its not afflicted then maybe you can push each other to grow together in yalls career but for the person I had this with it was our 7th house ruler and made multiple squares in the chart. Literally everybody had an opinion in our business and also like i said the fights were intense. The thing is we were immature kids. Im sure if we were adults it wouldnt have been that bad and we wouldnt have acted out of ego but it was hard seeing beyond it sometimes. Now as im older I feel like im starting to really admire how talented he is( I always have) but in a way now where I want to support him instead of trying to piss him off lol. Another thing is when Mars transited over our composite 10th house we had a huge fight and everyone at school knew it. I cut him off.

💔 Speaking of transits yall pleaseee look at them for the composite chart they are so so so accurate. They have predicted almost every issue I had with him. Another thing I noticed was if you set the transit for January 1st of that year it will predict the themes between u and that person off the composite transits. Every year this had been so accurate as to what happened and its worked for multiple couples I observed. For example when venus and mars was transit on the 5th house during new years the couple started dating that year. It acts as a solar return.

💔 Alot of long term couples have sun in 4th house composite and they are actually healthy.

💔 I love 11th house placements in the composite like yall will just naturally get along so well. This is the true "crush" feeling you would get sometimes more so than the 5th house but instead yall will have a friend dynamic. Just be careful not to get friendzoned LMFAO

💔 8th house placements are not for the weak and having it in the composite can be more complicated than having it in synastry. You were meant to meet this person because both of yall need to go through a psychological change through a partnership of some kind. I dont think 8th house placements are toxic if people are self aware but theres not a lot of people out there who are mature like that at a young age.

💔 Good luck if you have saturn in 12th house with someone. Yall will constantly have issues that neither of yall will understand how to fix. Boundries will be nonexistant and honestly it will be hard to form a partnership. This is IF yall hide from each other and do not communicate. You need to be vulnerable with each other. This is one of the biggest indicaters of a karmic partnership and its painful. Theres always this feeling of something feeling off and hurt in the back of your mind even when something isnt wrong. Ive seen from astrologers that saturn feels comfortable in this house and saturn here represents longevity but the benefits of this placement will not come through until yall go through some serious struggle.

💔 Chiron conjunct the mc will expose all of yalls pain to the public. A couple that had this through aries chiron transit the MC made it known eventually that they become toxic and everyone just thought of them as the couple that fights and hurts each other alot. They also broke up near this time.

💔 Ive noticed that the MC represents the status of the relationship. Having jupiter transit the MC made the couple have good luck and were trying to get together romantically. They also had asteroid anteros(god of requited/mutual love) conjunct jupiter in 10th house as a transit and EVERYONE was talking about them at school and were trying to get the two together.

💔 Lowkey I feel like davison charts(which can be read exactly like a composite) are even more accurate than composite charts. Not to say composites arent accurate but when it comes down to showing the overall long term duration of the couple I found that davisons are more accurate.

💔 If yall have venus square saturn just pack it up lmfao the universe do NOT want yall together and I often see couples trying to work it out but in the long term they often arent compatible. They force it and try to go against the grain and it never works out.

💔 I hate seeing jupiter squares in composites yalls values will be so difficult to align

💔 Jupiter in the 5th house is such a good place for romance. Ive also heard of couples doing "it" very early on in the relationship and most of them had this placement.

Hope Yall Enjoyed

-Simmi K💋

[sunshinetrinket]

codependent does not mean what everyone seems to think it means

[if-loves]

because you're everything (i have left)

// Phainon

sum: Is it so wrong that Phainon is everything you know?

wc: 1001

warnings: 3.0 story quest spoilers, amphoreus inaccuracies, ooc phainon, written before phainon release, implied (??) yan phainon, reader is a hot mess tbh

a/n: help i tried to make him yan but this just devolved into codependent relationship 

likes & reblogs appreciated :)

Phainon has known you his whole life. You have both seen each other in your most vulnerable of times, as children who had yet to understand the cruelties of the world, and as adults who have suffered the cruelties of the world. Through it all, you and Phainon held onto each other, mumbling promises of never leaving each other.

That was when Aedes Elysiae first fell to the savage flames, and the two of you were the only ones who managed to escape.

Years have passed since then, but the sight still lives in your mind, a vivid image that only seems to refresh and worsen the pain and guilt in your heart. Could you have done something and saved at least one more person? Was the way you were acting at the moment too selfish? Had you been a little stronger, a little smarter, would your home still be standing? 

You know enough about Phainon to know that for all his act as a playful young man, he harbours a grief and rage so deep in his soul even you don't know if you'd be able to coax it out of him. It's true he'd do many things for you, yes, but asking him to open up may be a boundary even if you can't cross.

But you'd do anything to keep Phainon happy, because you know he would do the same for you - because you're all each other has to remind you of home. Because you're all each other has left.

Upon finding asylum in Okhema, Phainon decided to leave his original name behind with the ruins of Aedes Elysiae and start somewhat anew in the Holy City. He had even told you to forget the name you've known him by all your life in favour of this new one, yet asked you sweetly to keep yours.

Sometimes you wonder if, had it not been for the destruction that rained upon your village that day, you and Phainon would be as close as you were today. Would you have shared all these intimate moments, like kissing and cuddling and all that naturally followed after, if everything was still as you had known? Would he have looked at you with the same disarming smile he always does when he comes back from another mission, or would he have slowly left you, like watching a boat be carried away by the sea's currents. 

You try not to let yourself be consumed by these thoughts. Phainon wouldn't be happy to know you doubt his love for you, and you'd hate to make him sad. He works so hard to keep you safe and happy, so the least you could do was make him happy when he was home. 

You'd do anything to make him happy. Even if it meant isolating yourself in the four walls of this home, even if it meant reducing yourself to nothing more than the one he'd come home to, even if it meant sacrificing your happiness for his, because this is what love is, isn't it? 

Phainon tells you he loves you often, while holding your face gently in his calloused hands. There's an emotion in his eyes you can't quite decipher, but it reminds you of a feeling you're very familiar with - guilt. You wonder why he feels that way, and why it only appears when he looks at you. What emotions does he harbour inside that lonely head of his?

You think it's hard to imagine Phainon wanting to hurt people. He's always been a kind person, even as a child and especially as an adult. He's always wanted the best for everyone, and he's never done anything to make you feel otherwise, so it's no surprise that when he tells you to never leave the house without him, and to never answer any knocks on the doors or windows, and to never open the curtains and windows, you listened. As a Chrysos Heir, he must be privy to some sensitive information, and as your lover, he must only wish to protect you. Phainon would never do anything to hurt you.

Despite your unwavering faith in him, you find it especially difficult to control your thoughts on particularly lonely days like these. He told you that he may be gone for awhile for some business to do with being a Chrysos Heir, and left you with a chase kiss on your lips before he was locking the door on his way out. How long would he be gone this time? 

Without him around, the disease named fear starts its infection and spreads throughout your soul. You're well aware of its tell tale signs, and you have yet to find a remedy for it that isn't Phainon's presence. It starts slowly, taking its time to seep into the crevices of your soul, before it comes crashing down on you and all of a sudden you're drowning.

Is Phainon taking care of you because you're all that's left of Aedes Elysiae? Do you deserve everything that Phainon has given you? Was your life worth the deaths of all those villagers? Phainon is a Chrysos Heir, greatness is written in his script since the moment he was born. What were you?

It's okay, though. Because when Phainon walks through the door, all your doubts disappear in an instant. He engulfs you warmly, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, and everything feels right even if only for a moment.

But sometimes even his presence isn't enough to dispel some of your doubts. Does Phainon truly love you for you, or does he love you for what you remind him of? Of a bygone past that only exists in your memories, that smells of ash and sounds of screams, that the both of you can't let go of, even as it threatens the destruction of you and him? 

But it's okay if it’s Phainon, you think. Because you love him. Because he's all you have left.

[karofsky]

Nandermo is canon. Full stop.

They’re openly, irrevocably in love with each other. They have shown time and time again that their devotion to each other will always come first. Nandor’s codependency is suffocating and Guillermo’s inability to adjust to human society is because he’s never actually wanted to. Everything has always been about him refusing to move on from Nandor, because he never has wanted to, but was always too scared to admit it to himself. Nandor has called him on it, and finally we’ve seen him accept that his place is with the vamps, and beside Nandor.

Nandor who doesn’t WANT romance. He wants companionship. He plays the song and dance because it’s a fun game, and because it’s kept him from admitting just how much Guillermo means to him. His sense of true love was always muddled in what others had and what others thought he needed, and not what he actually wanted. He wants his family, and he wants the one person he genuinely, canonically believes fate brought him to. He understands that in all nearly 800 years of his life, everything was bringing him to Guillermo. He’s told him that. Loving Guillermo is his purpose— the one thing he’s always been actually searching for.

Guillermo who equally has been trying to to force himself into a box. “If my loyalty isn’t tied to getting what I want then what is it.” Guillermo who had a whole year to himself, and another year on top of it telling himself that he was in love with a man who he only told lies to. Freddie was only ever a distraction the same way Marwa was. He tricked himself into believing this was the life he wanted, the romance he wanted, and it all predictably fell apart when his inability to give up Nandor got in the way.

Paul Simms and the writers, since season three, have only ever treated them with care. They’ve openly called attention to the fact that it’s a love story, and a fucked up one. They’ve also openly said that it will never be what most people want out of a romance. For years. That doesn’t change the fact that they’ve now made it canonically clear that these two characters are soulmates. They are not platonic, they are not Two Besties, they are not purely familial. They are two neutron stars that are locked by gravity to one another, who only ever will be locked to one another, and will crash and burn and die together. They are that weird, homoerotic, fucked up, “what’s up with those two” relationship that we’ve always called them, and now they’ve openly accepted to one another.

A kiss would be great. They deserved a funny little sex scene. We aren’t going to get them, and that doesn’t make it any less queer, or any less of a canon love story, because for the first time, I’m finally seeing the weird, unconventional, fucked up queer romances that I, in my own queer life, have always had or wanted. I love so strongly and so fiercely and so loyally, and it’s often unspoken. The people who are important to me I keep with me for my life, even long after they leave. I don’t need my love to look like what people expect, or tick off boxes of What A Relationship Is. My romance is in that devotion and yearning for closeness and companionship.

Fall in love with your best friend and feel exactly no pressure to change anything about it (I have). Have crushes and flings that are fun for fun sake, or end messy because you get in too deep, or things just don’t work out and That’s Life (I do). Be devoted to your friends like you are your partners, make out with whoever you want, allow yourself to blur the lines of your relationships to what you and those relationships want to be. And if you like the structure of a classic romance, and enjoy said song and dance, that’s fine too. But please ask yourself why, when looking at other relationships that don’t, that you consider those less valid in your eyes. Why do you turn your nose up at those who refuse to see the love and see the queerness, and then you yourself look that love and queerness in the eye, and say “it’s just not enough, though.” A love and romance not being for you does not make it any less valid as a love and romance. In fact most people probably should not want what Nandermo have at all.

But Nandermo are it for each other. They’ve now accepted it. They have so much time (as little or as long as they physically have) together to figure out what else they want in their relationship. After 15 years they both are FINALLY on the same page. Wherever they go next is up to them, and I’m so thankful that they are looking to leave that open-ended. Because those that know, KNOW. I know it, the characters know it, the writing team knows it, Harvey and Kayvan know it. If people want to convince themselves it’s purely platonic love, that’s on them, but everyone who has watched six seasons and seen, canonically, EVERYTHING, has seen it for a reason. The love is written, and the love has been addressed, now conclusively. Nandor and Guillermo are in love with each other, they know they are in love with each other, and they know they’ll never have a love like this outside of each other.

[dinsbeskar]

[Never] Sleep Alone (Sauron/F!Reader)

Sauron’s obsession with you knows no bounds. He claims you, body and soul, in your waking and dreaming, so now it seems only right he takes what is his.

Can be read solo, can be read alongside my In The Dark series // AO3 Link

Soundtrack: Sleep Alone by Bat For Lashes, Closer by Nine Inch Nails (that song is so Sauron coded!!), Oral Hex by Bludnymph (I've listened to nothing but horny EDM for a week)

Warnings: 18+ only!!! Smut!! Consensual Non Consent (CNC). S*mmo k!nk: he fucks you while you're asleep, but there is consent in place. Toxic relationship tbh, they're a little codependent/obsessed with one another. But also v soft, toothache soft. P in V sex, oral sex (female receiving), male masturbation, cockwarming, bodily fluids, creampie, maybe a lil breeding kink if you squint, praise kink, a little emotional manipulation (it's Sauron so??)

A/N: idek guys. I'm a sleepy girl, and I've been listening to s*mmo audio, this kinda just happened. But it does seem like a natural escalation, considering I've written Sauron as stalking you, and claiming you in your dreams. So tbh this isn't that far of a stretch. However I will not be offended if you guys nope out, totally fine!!! But I will not do the whole kinkshaming thing, sorry we're not here for it. Don't like, don't read! :) okay enjoy!

thesaurus.com my beloved, how many different words can we find for sleep lmfao

Word Count: 3k!

He loves watching you sleep.

And sometimes he follows you there, into your dreams.

But sometimes he just lies awake beside you, gazing at your sleeping form, prone and vulnerable, his alone to protect and worship.

When you wake, you usually feel the weight of his gaze on you, the warmth of his body pressed against you, but lately Sauron has taken to rising before you, depriving you of morning cuddles, which frankly will not do.

"Where did you go?" You ask him softly, as he climbs back into bed after much pleading on your part.

"What do you mean, love?" He replies, brow furrowed, as he kisses your shoulder, rubbing your back in slow circles.

"In the mornings, when you abandon me to a cold bed, where do you go? What could possibly be more important than your wife's comfort?" You turn over to face him, meeting his gaze.

"Does it matter, my love? I always come back if you call." He tries to handwave your question away, but his evasion only makes you more curious.

"No, really, I need to know, what are you doing that cannot wait until I rise?"

He huffs an exasperated sigh, still running his hands over your bare skin, trying to avoid your gaze.

"Please. While you're here, I want you all to myself, I don't want you leaving me without forewarning me." You hate how needy he makes you, how desperate for his presence you are.

He regards you for a moment with that intense stare that makes your toes curl, and you feel him on the edges of your mind, feeling you out for whatever he has to tell you.

"You can tell me, after all this time, there are no secrets between us." You are starting to get concerned now, what could it possibly be?

"I love you. So much, unbearably so sometimes. My affection for you knows no bounds, and if it were possible..." he trails off, studying you for your reaction, his Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows nervously.

You can't help but beam, your smile spreading wide and lighting up your whole face. You know how he feels about you, because you feel exactly the same way. Emboldened by your radiance, he continues.

"If it were possible, my lust for you is so many times greater." There is a glint in his eye now that thrills you to your core, as you realise that perhaps it would have been less dangerous to leave it well alone.

"And when you're asleep, my love, wandering your dreams without me at your side, I cannot help but want to be close to you." He draws closer to you, every firm plane of his body pressed against you, fingers softly tracing your curves as you shiver under his gentle touch.

"I cannot resist you. I have tried, but you defeat me every time." You raise your eyebrows at his words, still a little confused, but your cheeks grow hot at his flattery all the same.

"You are so close to me, so vulnerable to my gaze, to my touch," he punctuates every pause with a kiss to your neck, forcing your eyes to flutter shut, listening to his confession.

"And if I wanted to have my way with you, to ravish you while you sleep, I could do so." Your eyes fly open, meeting his pitch black gaze, as goosebumps arise at the nape of your neck, heat pooling in your abdomen.

"But I resist." His heartbeat matches yours, racing in tandem as he edges closer to revealing his nightly activities.

"I take myself in hand, and imagine it's you instead."

Your heart pounds as you slowly realise what he might be asking for, your thighs rubbing together in anticipation.

"Your hand, your mouth, your hot wet cunt. But nothing compares to you, my love, imagination can only take me so far." His eyes are dark, pupils blown, as he grinds his cock against your ass.

"It is to thoughts of you that I fuck my own hand, yearning for your touch, unable to wait until morning when you rejoin me in waking."

"And that is where you go? Why do you not wake me, love, if you suffer so?" Your heart aches at the thought of your husband so deeply bereft, even with you by his side.

"Not always." He kisses your neck softly, stroking your side.

"Sometimes I lay next to you, breathing you in, inches from the very flesh I need to claim, spending my seed anywhere but inside you," he murmurs, his hot breath tickling your ear, "where you deserve it."

Your breath hitches and the throbbing in your clit will no longer be ignored. You reach down to take the edge off, but he takes your hand and presses it to his lips with a tsk.

"If I cannot have you when I wish, you certainly cannot, my love."

You whine and squirm against him, but he holds you fast.

"So when you wake, I am simply making myself presentable to you, my darling, that is where I am when you're searching for me, still walking the line between dreams and reality."

The idea of your husband satisfying himself as you lie beside him, blissfully unaware, has you rocking against him softly, the familiar coiling sensation beginning in your abdomen as his words ignite your insatiable desire for him.

"It can be so... pitifully lonely, watching you slumber, my love, but I never wanted to burden you." He smirks against your neck, his hands beginning to roam across your body.

"It would never be a burden, you are my husband, I want to please you, as much as you please me." He works so hard for your pleasure, that it would be remiss of you not to reciprocate.

"You need your rest, beloved, you cannot not entertain me all hours of the night." He chuckles softly, probing your mind for the seed he has planted, nourishing it to fruition.

You ponder for a while, the blood rushing to your cheeks as you come upon a solution that sends bolts of arousal to your core.

"Perhaps... no, it is foolish, forget I said anything." You murmur, worried that he will think you depraved.

"What, my love? Come now, are we not one and the same soul? You can share anything with me." With you still facing away from him, he does not have to fix the expression on his face, a wicked mixture of glee and anticipation as his idea comes tumbling from your lips.

"Perhaps, you need not wake me. Perhaps, you do as you will. If I wake, then so be it, but I would not have you suffer unnecessarily, my love." You're sure your face is glowing, how red and hot it feels; you're glad you're facing away from him so he cannot see it.

His long pause has you rattled, and you're about to lose your nerve and tell him it was just a foolish notion, when-

"You would have me... defile you, while you sleep?"

You can hear his concern, his bewilderment, but you cannot see the glint in his eye, the dangerous delight that paints his handsome features.

"If it disgusts you, love, please think no more of it, forget I said a word." Shame begins to course through you, nausea building even as arousal pools in the pit of your stomach.

He pulls you close, nose in your hair, and breathes in deeply.

"I could never feel anything other than utter devotion to you, my sweet wife. You think only of me, and offer yourself freely. How could I feel anything but adoration?"

Your heart swells, reaching out for his, his love smothering you like a blanket, encompassing you in his warmth and devotion.

"We would need some kind of... signal. To let me know what you want when you cannot tell me yourself." He might want you wholly, body and soul, but he wants you to be a willing participant, even when dreaming.

You nod, musing on what could be the most obvious sign that you were happy to have him claim you while you slept.

"Perhaps, underwear on, I attend to my own affairs." He murmurs in your ear, pulling you ever closer. "However, underwear off, I can ravish you as I please?"

It's a question, technically, but he knows you will agree.

"That does seem simple enough, and one could not mistake any intentions with such a... deliberate sign." With his arms still wrapped around you, you are beginning to fall asleep, but you turn around as much as you're able, craning your neck to kiss him softly.

"I love you." He whispers into your kiss.

"I know." You smile, rubbing the tip of his nose with yours. "I love you too."

You roll over and allow him to cuddle you, pulling his arm over your body tighter, holding his hand until you fall asleep. He regards you all the while, eyes fond, cock hard.

~

He traces his hands over your sides, gently, so softly, so as not to disturb you. You need your rest after all.

He peels back the sheets delicately, and you fidget a little; he holds his breath, staying still for a moment, but you remain sound asleep. Thank the Valar you're a deep sleeper.

He breathes a sigh of relief, before pressing on with exactly what he wants to do to you.

The night is warm, so you're covered only by a gauzy nightgown, the fabric of which is so thin, he can already tell you've forgone underwear.

This is the answer he needed to the question he can't ask you while you slumber.

You had agreed that wearing nothing under your slip was the sign he was free to do as he wished with you.

He trails his fingers up your thighs to find your cunt is already wet and waiting for him. You must have come to bed thinking of him; the thought frankly makes him weak, makes him want to wake you and ravage you until the sun rises.

But he won't ruin the fantasy on the very first night, at least not intentionally.

He spreads your thighs, being careful not to jostle you too much, wanting to satisfy everything you spoke about, for you and for himself.

He's always loved the taste of you, and while he loves bringing you pleasure, the simple truth is he can't get enough of you, and would spend days between your thighs if you let him, for purely selfish reasons.

He noses your clit, drinking in your scent, flattening his tongue and devouring you whole. He delves into your folds, sucking at your clit, looking up occasionally to see if he has disturbed you. Thankfully you remain asleep, though for a moment he would appreciate your trembling thighs wrapped around his neck.

He wonders if he can bring you to orgasm while asleep; perhaps a goal for next time.

But he is achingly hard for you, having resisted touching himself as he savoured your cunt. He strokes his cock once, twice, then lines himself up with your entrance, still watching and waiting for you to wake, sure that you will.

Sauron is sure he has never been more aroused than this very moment, admiring the view of his sweet, trusting wife, so vulnerable beneath him, allowing him to do exactly as he wishes while she gets her valuable rest.

His fingers slip inside you so easily, it's as if he belongs there, and he quickly replaces them with his aching cock, the head running over your folds before slipping inside your tight wet heat.

He groans, perhaps a little too loud, but he cannot bring himself to care while he is buried to the hilt inside you. He grasps your hips and adjusts you slightly, sliding right in, his balls slapping at your skin. He tries, he really does try to keep quiet, but you move in your sleep, trying to roll over, and he moans, long and loud, from the added sensation of you tightening around him.

"I'm sorry, darling, did I wake you?" He whispers after pausing a moment, half hoping you won't respond.

You grumble a little, pressing your hips harder into his, but you seem to fall back to sleep while his hips have stilled.

He resumes rolling his hips, hesitant to fully plunge his cock into the depths of your cunt, rocking in and out of you as you clench around him.

He has to be so quiet, he doesn't want to disturb you, but he needs this, needs to fuck you senseless even while you're not awake, the depths of his lust for you seemingly endless.

The fact you were unperturbed by his confession only made him love you more, that his depravity was shared in the other half of his soul. And the way you offered yourself to him so freely; his heart always sang for yours, but at that moment, your song was all he could hear.

When he is fairly sure that you're peacefully asleep, he ruts into you once again, his cock painfully hard as he draws out his own pleasure to save your slumber.

You clench around him, your body used to his ministrations, responding to his touch almost as if you were awake.

The only noises that can be heard in your chambers are his own deep breathing and the soft, wet sounds of flesh on flesh as he pounds into you, reassured by your continued repose.

He feels his orgasm draw closer, heat in his belly that threatens to engulf him whole. He throws back his head and gasps, his balls drawing up, readying for his release, as he kneads your pliant flesh, relishing in your curves. He reaches up under your slip, cupping your breasts in his large hands, thumbs circling your nipples. At this point, he no longer cares if you wake, thrusting erratically inside you, leaning down to lick and nuzzle your neck, to breathe in your sweet scent.

Your throat bared, he has the urge to sink his teeth into your soft flesh, to wake you with the unearthly pleasure that his torture would provide. That urge pushes him over the edge, spurting inside you, his thighs shaking in the effort not to collapse on top of you.

It is your tiny whimpers that bring him back to the present. He props himself up on one hand to find your eyes wide open, a sleepy smile gracing your face.

He smirks, drawing you in for a languid kiss, before he resumes lazily rutting into you, cock still hard and weeping, still ravenous for any sliver of pleasure you will grant him.

You let out a moan as he hits the sweet spot inside you, your toes curling with pleasure. He cannot help but regard you fondly, your eyes screwed shut, as you try to keep up the ruse for him even now.

He leans down to kiss the tip of your nose, before drawing back to ravage your cunt the way he knows you like best, circling your clit with his fingers.

Angling his hips the way he knows will torture you best and playing your clit like the master musician he is, he brings you to the edge of orgasm before halting altogether. You whine and squirm and pull his hips into you, but he nips your ear in warning.

"Not yet, love, together." He urges you breathlessly.

In response, you clench your walls around him, drawing a guttural groan from deep within his chest.

"Please, love, please, come with me." You murmur, tracing the contours of his back, digging your fingernails into his smooth skin.

You can feel his peak approaching again, as his lips on yours become more desperate, his tongue delving into your mouth as if searching for the meaning of life in your body.

"That's it, sweet girl, come for me, come now." He groans; he fills you again, spending his seed exactly where you both want it as you clutch at his skin, the coil in your belly releasing in a blazing heat that renders you speechless.

"Good girl, you deserve it, don't you? My sweet wife, not a drop wasted," he smirks, claiming your lips again, swallowing your desperate moans.

He languidly rolls his hips against yours, guiding you through your orgasm as your thoughts continue to evade you, nothing in your head but the feeling of your husband inside you.

You both finally fall back against the pillows, sated for now. He moves to pull out of you but you hold him fast, slinging a leg over his and refusing to let his cock leave you empty. He chuckles and pulls you close, your head on his chest, his iron embrace so comforting after the exertion of the evening.

"How long were you awake?" He asks with an affectionate smile.

"How long did you know I was awake?" You respond with a playful smile, sleepily tracing his jaw.

He hums, conceding the point.

"We can always try again," you murmur, sleep coming to claim you swiftly.

"I'm sure we will." His heart is so full that it feels tender, as if one more soft word from you would shatter it to oblivion.

"Love you, more than anything," you whisper, as if on cue, as he can do nothing but hold you and feel his black heart ache for his impossible love of you, kissing you softly before nestling his face in your neck.

[merakiui]

crow & goat in courtship.

yandere!rollo flamme x (female) reader cw: yandere, nsfw, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, dub-con, coercion, religious symbolism/imagery, mentions of pregnancy, implied breeding kink, obsession, alcohol/intoxication, slight codependency, non-consensual touching/groping, au in which you attend classes at nbc instead of nrc under rollo's supervision note - the crow is always on call.

i. “but each person is tempted when they are dragged away by their own evil desire and enticed. then, after desire has conceived, it gives birth to sin; and sin, when it is full-grown, gives birth to death” (james 1:14-15).

Rollo answers on the third ring.

He always does—claims it’s polite to answer after three chimes just as it’s right to knock thrice before entering a residence. He’s stubborn in his ways, a crow bound by routine, only ever doing things in threes. Habitual to a fault, strictly so. You are similar in that regard; you find solace in the familiarity of predictable patterns. The relief that stems from knowing what will come next—in being prepared for all manner of events even if you haven’t yet reached the first.

But then you also like fun, and the best sort of fun is often had with a disregard for habit. Disorder and spontaneity. Throwing all caution to the wind. Trusting in the arms of the crow who will catch you, the carefree goat, when you fall.

“Good evening,” he mutters into the phone, his voice sounding so close despite the distance between you and him. “It’s rather late. Is there a specific reason you’re calling?”

“Rollo! Hey! Hiii,” you drawl, grinning like a fool. You stagger through the door into the chilly, starless night, your heels slipping on cracked, frozen pavement. “Whoa!” You stumble against the railing with a carefree giggle. “Almost lost my footing!”

There’s a stalling silence on his end. And then, with a deep inhale, he asks evenly, “Have you gone out?”

“Mm. Yeah. Went out to celebrate with some friends.”

“Some friends?”

“Like one or two…or a whole house full of ’em.”

“(Name).”

“What?” When he doesn’t reply, you laugh. Not because it’s humorous or embarrassing, but to merely fill the silent gap. “What? Roro, you’re sho stern. Don’t lecture me!”

“So you’ve been drinking.”

“What?! No!” With an offended scoff, you shake your head even though he’s not here to witness it. “You know NBC’s no-booze rule. I’m not gonna get caught—won’t get caught.”

“You slurred your speech and called me ‘Roro’—both in the same sentence, mind you.”

“So what? Rollo, Roro. Tomato, potato.”

“It’s to-may-to, to-mah-to. And—” he exhales an exhausted breath— “Never mind. That’s besides the point. Why, pray tell, have you called me at midnight?”

“Why’re you up at midnight?”

“I could ask the same of you.”

“Not fair! I asked first!”

“Not quite.” There’s a smile in his voice when he speaks next. “If I were to visit your room right now—knock on the door and wait there—would you let me in?”

“Yeaaah,” you start to say, only to catch yourself halfway in the trap. “No!”

“No?”

“No…thank you. No visitors tonight. S’late and I gotta study for tomorrow’s exam.”

“And a party will somehow aid in that endeavor? (Name), you do realize you’ve spun one too many lies and now you’re woefully entangled.”

“Less poetry and more picking me up.”

“Ah, so that’s what this is about.”  

“Rollo, please be nice,” you whine, your lips twisting into a pout. “S’cold and I didn’t bring a jacket and I’m kinda-maybe-sorta a little…”

“A little…?” he encourages, and you can just envision that self-satisfied smirk of his.

“A little-drunk-but-also-not-really-drunk-but-also-totally-drunk,” you hastily admit in a string of syllables. Snowfall swirls around you, and you grasp the bannister to prevent yourself from falling over. “Oh, it’s snowing.”

“I can see perfectly clear from my window. Beautiful, is it not?”

“So stop being an obtuse dick and come get me before I freeze!”

“Should that come to pass, you may just rival the Righteous Judge at the entrance. I’ll be sure to polish you every month.”

“I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna poison your coffee and watch you drink it, and then we’ll see who’s stiffer than a statue. It’ll be you—in death, y’know!”

“Will you now?”

“If you don’t pick me up, yeah!”

There’s the distinct sound of shuffling. You hear crisp pages turning and then a book closing before the rustling of fabrics invades your keen ears. You picture your responsible friend pacing around his room as he dresses himself for the weather.

“Very well,” he says after a moment, ever the composed gentleman. “Send me the address.”

“You’re the best. Love you lots. Thank you! Thank you!” You press your lips together to mimic obnoxious kissing sounds, which elicits a huff of amusement from him. “It’s not a far walk. Promise.”

“Stay on the phone with me. I’ll be there shortly. And don’t go anywhere.”

“Wasn’t planning on it.”

“You do realize sneaking out is against the rules, yes?”

“Aaand here comes the lecture. Gimme a break. Can’t a girl celebrate her birthday in peace?”

You drag your hand over your mouth and wipe sticky wine residue away. In the process, you smear black lipstick. Dark like night, like a crow’s inky feathers, it leaves your once-flawless appearance in disarray.

“There are much better ways to celebrate. Did I not say I’d take you into town this weekend and we could celebrate then?”

“That’s so far from now.”

“It’s three days away, (Name).”

“Still too far.”

“Don’t expect me to provide cover if you get caught.”

“And you can just leave campus whenever you please?”

“This is different.”

“Yeah?” You giggle into the speaker, warm and fuzzy and endlessly entertained. It’s enough of a distraction to keep winter from seeping into your marrow. “How so?”

“This is official Student Council business.”

“Really?” you ask with an impressed whistle. 

“Indeed. On account of my being President, it’s only natural I punish students who conduct themselves poorly. Shall we review your list of infractions and decide on a suitable penalty together?”

“I’d rather we not.”

“Oh, but I insist. Perhaps our discussion and the cold will sober you and teach you a valuable lesson about integrity.”

With an exaggerated sigh, you lower onto the step to await his arrival. The icy stone digs harshly into your rear, which is hardly covered by your too-short dress. It’s definitely not fingertip length or weather-appropriate. You shiver and stuff your hand into the pocket of your cropped sweater. You should take shelter inside, where it’s plenty cozy and inviting, but your inflated pride disagrees. Retreating to the warmth after you’ve already bid farewell would be foolish. At least, that’s what the alcohol in your system is telling you.

So the goat endures the cold, for it knows that that is all that awaits it as the crow closes in.

“Yeah, yeah. I’m an academic criminal. Get on with it, President Flamme.”

“Let’s see. You’ve disobeyed campus curfew, snuck out on a school night, attended a party when your grades could use improvement, neglected your studies, drank carelessly, called the one person who can and will punish you for this and the aforementioned…”

The sound of crunching snow pierces the air then, and you look up in time to see Rollo approaching. He’s dressed in a long woolen overcoat with a scarf twined around his throat and a hat pulled down over his ears. He smirks at you from where he stands on the pavement, cutting the call and sliding his phone into his pocket. Tilting his head at you, he pulls another coat from under his arm and offers it to you.

“And you’re dressed for your death.”

“Okay, that one’s personal.”

Rolling your eyes, you rise on unsteady legs. He meets you at the stairs, climbing two of them to help you into the coat. It’s an embrace more welcoming than that of a lover’s, so soft and comfortable that it immediately rejuvenates your weary skeleton. It smells like Rollo, too—like coffee and weathered pages in an old book. You hum your approval, snuggling into the fluffy fabric. He’s plopping his hat on your head next, tugging it so far down that you almost slip on the slick stoop. Like he always has, ever since he first met you, he catches you. 

“Hello to you, too.”

You blink back at him. “Yeah, thanks. I owe you.”

“Let me see your hands.”

He takes them in his, runs his thumbs over the tops, and then procures mittens from his pockets. You watch him slide both over your hands, rubbing them together briefly to generate heat at a faster rate. Your body sways, gaze unfocused. He’s just about to unwind his scarf from his shoulders when you reach out to stop him.

“I’m good. This is enough.”

“You’ll catch your death—”

“And you won’t in just a coat and scarf? At least let me give you your hat back.”

He shakes his head, holding his hand up in objection. “You’ve been out in this weather longer. It’s only fair. But, really, did you have to wait out here? Couldn’t you have gone inside?”

“My pride’s on the line.”

Rollo’s unamused stare cuts through you. “You won’t have much pride left if you’re encased in ice.”

“Then we’d best get moving. Campus awaits!”

You wrap your arm around him, clinging out of instinct. Rollo peers at the proximity, his lips upturned in a covert half-smile, and his arm snakes slowly around your waist in return. You don’t notice this, for you’re too busy dragging your feet through the snow while he acts as a helpful crutch, stable in a way you just aren’t. Not right now, at least.

But then the goat is never stable enough to survive the inevitable—the swift, sacrificial blade that befalls and beheads, leaving gory spatters to run red and visceral in the wake of the end.

You’ve never known, and you never will. How could you when he’s been nothing but cordial? A clean slate. Admirable guidance. A helpful friend. Your only friend.

The crow descends in three knocks. He lets himself in regardless of whether you wish to have him as a guest. He is unwanted and feared, the very foundation of death and destruction, and he has set his beady eyes on you—the goat.

It’s common knowledge that you cannot pray away the crow. He persists, as always, quiet even when his wings beat against his sleek, feathered body like the loudest war drums. And the caw—the dreadful caw! It’s a most disturbing cry, one that pierces through the dark like jarring slivers of light in shadow. Or a butcher’s blade through flesh, sawing through sinew to get to brilliant bone beneath. The hoarse call of Death’s crows—they circle in a murder, swooping down to meet you as harbingers of malevolence.

Rollo has always strived to lead a virtuous existence defined by a rigidly righteous moral compass. In the gloomy pits of misery and hatred, where he festers in a bundle of tar-colored feathers, he does not hope for sunshine. He no longer knows the uplifting ebullience of life’s greatest miracles. Because there is no miracle in death or tragedy. Because there is no happiness to be found in a doomed hand, every card showcasing Death and its many forms. Not for him. Never for him.

But then, amidst the despair and despondency, each all-consuming, a goat fell into his lap.

A divine offering to the crow, who is so far from divinity himself, can only mean one thing. It is neither conciliatory nor a reward.

It is a sacrifice.

But then the City of Flowers adores its goats—reveres them for all that they are. Goats are cherished, not sacrificed. But to drag a nameless, magicless goat from the grounds of its far-off, inconceivable pasture—is that not the cruelest form of sacrifice? To drop this goat into the equitable embrace of the crow—is that not the sweetest gift? Generous yet unfair. Plucked right from the folds of another heaven.

The mortal coil can be callous, which is precisely why the crow is permitted to exist in impartiality. Death does not care for who you were in life and who you will be in the next, and the crow only ever oversees finales. Never beginnings. Much like a deity does not care for what good you can do if you do not first adore them in copious adequacy.

The crow carries with him a most fearsome knell—the chime of judgment, to be delivered right on time like an execution staged for noon.

All throughout life, you can plan for the crow and all that he shall deliver, and still you will never be fully prepared to greet him. He brings misfortune bundled in baskets woven from the bones of sacrifices past. In holy scripture, it is the goat who is punished most often—who is slaughtered at the altar, who is arranged as peace to quell the torrential fury of the deity, who is made to suffer at the hands of those hoping to avoid damnation or godly wrath, who is meant to shoulder the blame when no one else wants to. Favors have been bought with the blood of the goat, its head nestled amidst verdant grasses, pure forevermore even when it is dyed carmine. It appeases and pleases.

So it’s just—religiously so—that the crow takes the goat for himself, strips it bare, and proves to the prying eyes in heaven that the greatest sin is more than lustful temptation.

For the crow—for Rollo—the heaviest sin, a vile, cursed burden from his very first breath—it is existence itself.

And only the blood of a pure goat can wash away such filth—can cleanse what has been rotting within. The goat can make a garden out of the crow—bring life and love to its barren insides regardless of however fleeting its presence may be. It is within this garden—within the softest, fertile soil—where the crow shall sow the most special seeds.

You cross the bridge with Rollo, your laughter filling the cloudy sky as you recall all manner of amusing stories from the past few hours. Drinking games paired with drunken gossip. Delicious wines and snacks. A party with an energy so lively it could rival the city’s annual festivals. Even though he doesn’t seem outwardly pleased to hear any of it, he listens well and occasionally stops to steady you before you can topple over the railing into the water below. Your heels clack against smooth, frosted stone, and the wind whips at your face, each snowflake biting and vicious. Noble Bell’s vast campus waits just beyond the wrought iron gate, standing proud and backdropped by the night.

“You think anyone’s up?” you ask, curling your fingers into his arm as he guides you through.

Rollo eases the gate shut. “They might if they hear you. It would be best to keep quiet.”

You pantomime zipping your lips and discarding a nonexistent key. He quirks a small smile at that and then hurries you along. Nights are always peaceful at Noble Bell. The halls are desolate and quiet, devoid of all signs of student life. Your and Rollo’s shoes click in unison as you walk through the hall and past the courtyard. You gaze at the arched openings, counting each one as they become fainter with the growing distance.

Your breath materializes in front of you when you sigh. “I’m so sleepy. I wanna go to bed for a thousand years.”

“You’ll miss your exam if you do that,” he chides, tutting. “And every other exam that will follow.”

“That’s the point!” Your voice bounces off the walls, returning to you in a reverberating echo. Cringing under Rollo’s disapproving glower, you speak softer. “Oops. Sorry.”

“Just how much have you had to drink? You can hardly walk straight without leaning on me for support.” He narrows his eyes, his lecherous gaze crawling down to your bare legs. “Not that I mind…”

His words don’t reach you, for they’re swallowed in a howling gale as it sweeps across the courtyard. You spy the dormitories then, each one looking more like gingerbread covered in confectioners’ sugar instead of buildings dusted with snow. Your eyelids droop while you cross the distance to reach your designated building, your every movement feeling slower than molten molasses, and by the time you’re actually inside the dorm—Rollo’s shushed you more than once—you’re yearning for the warmth of your bed.

So it’s bewildering when, rather than your own room, you stop at Rollo’s instead.

He opens the door and steps inside with you in tow. You keep your mouth shut, too tipsy to think coherently. After he clicks the lamp on, which leaves the room awash in soft shades of amber, he shrugs his coat off, draping it over a nearby chair. You drag yourself over to his bed and flop down, squeezing your eyes shut to block out both the light and your spinning surroundings. Rollo doesn’t say anything, but you hear him shuffling about his room, crossing to close and lock the door before walking back towards you. The mattress dips under his weight, and you feel nimble fingers working to undo the buttons on your coat.

“Can I sleep here tonight?” you ask, cracking your eyes open just as he’s pulling the coat from your person.

Rollo folds it neatly and sets it aside. “You’re practically melting into my bed already. It would be quite the undertaking to make the walk back to your room at this hour.”

“So considerate,” you tease, grinning up at him. Sleep stretches your expression into something dazed, and you yawn loudly. “Then I’m gonna sleep here. Wake me up before class.”

You almost drift off, but those frigid fingers are moving to tug you out of your sweater next. They crawl across your bare shoulders like a spider on a web.

“You really are something,” he marvels, glancing at your body sprawled beneath him. “To brave the cold in such thin material…”

“Stupid choice. I know.”

“It appears we’re in agreement.”

“Shut up,” you snap back with a weak laugh. “You’re no better, showing up so cozy and then giving everything to me.”

Rollo memorizes the way the form-fitting dress hugs your figure. He inhales a shaky breath and brings his hands back to his sides. Your chest is right here. So close. So frustratingly close.

He can’t indulge. He really shouldn’t. It’s unbecoming to show such unfair favorability when he’s meant to remain impartial. Death should not lust for the beauty of life because it only knows endings—or the beginnings of ghostly eternity. The crow should not allow himself to be swept up in tumultuous temptation.

And the goat is the only friend he’s known—the only one who understands the crow, if only by a few meager slivers. But someday the goat will know.

Rollo swallows his inhibitions, beating his urges away with a stick. He’s not one for rash decisions; he’s meticulous and thoughtful. He would never take such a risk—would never nosedive into a crude confession. He’s plotted it in his diary, but it’s never come to fruition. He restrains himself because he must. Because it’s the polite and proper thing to do when caught up in courtship. Because if he opens his torso and allows you to poke around inside, you’ll find that he is not the friend you’ve known for all these months.

He is a fiend, devilishly so, wearing the hide of a goat to put the real one at ease.

Warring with rationality, he slides away from you and intends to recover at his desk. He’ll scrawl all of the things he wishes to do to you in there and that will be enough. That will help clear his head of the intoxicating fog that settles whenever he’s with you in private. But then he’s reaching to untie the canopy draped over his bed, each corner undone within seconds. The sheer curtains fall in thin layers, confining the both of you to this island in the middle of a barren sea. It’s darker in here, dimly lit by the faint glow of the lamp outside.

You blink up at him, owlish.

“You…” He stops himself, shakes his head, and turns away. Hastily, he fishes his handkerchief from his pocket. With this enclosed propinquity, he can smell your perfume. It’s spiced and flowery—alluring and adorable all at once—and it assaults both his nose and mind. “You should sleep. It’s late.”

This is for the best. The crow is only meant to look after the goat, remain unaffected even in the face of lustful, fateful sacrifice.

But you’re here. You’re splayed like a spill, perfectly imperfect, and your shoulders are a canvas coveting kisses. He clutches his handkerchief in a white-knuckled fist.

“Mm, okay. Night…”

“Yes… Yes, good night,” he mumbles, lowering his handkerchief. He swallows thickly.

This is for the best.

But even though he thinks this, his arm is stretching out. Closer. Closer. So close, until his hand is hovering just above your chest. He’s so close.

When will he ever have another chance as fortuitous as this?

His hand closes around your breast and he squeezes it experimentally. It’s soft when his fingers dig in gently, depressing with the pressure of his digits. Rollo’s green hues flick to your face. Your eyes are shut, and soft snores slip from your parted lips. He glimpses your chest again and, with the utmost care, slides your dress down to free your breasts. They’re mostly bare, save for the heart-shaped pasties covering your nipples. Rollo heaves a disbelieving sigh.

“Promiscuous,” he mutters, plucking the edge of the first adhesive and peeling it away to reveal the perky nipple beneath. You look so soft, so clean, so pure… What was he even worried about? No one’s had you before. He’s sure of it.

He’s about to remove the other heart when your voice freezes him.

“What…are you doing?”

He holds your gaze. It’s tense for a moment, unspoken accusations brewing between the both of you.

“A massage,” he blurts, but there isn’t a hint of haste in his tone. He suspected this outcome when he chose to traverse the line of right and wrong—and ultimately sided with the former. Because to him it’s right, even if it’s wrong. He knows what will soon follow: disgust and detestation.

Instead, you giggle. It’s sleepy and silly-sounding, but it’s also light and lively.

You catch his hand in yours and drag it back to your chest. “If you wanted to touch, just ask,” you murmur, your words slurring. “Nothin’ wrong with it.”

You’re not just perfect and pure. You’re everything.

Yes, it’s the alcohol blurring your brain and the intimacy of being trapped in a quiet, comfortable space such as this one that allows you to desire him. Would it be the same if you were sober? He can’t quite say, but he doesn’t wish to know. This is enough. This is paradise.

He kneads slow, steady motions into your breast, and you watch from where you’re lying on the bed. His other hand slithers between your legs to search for your clothed clit. Your breath hitches just as his fingers brush it, and he presses in, rubbing with his index. Your arm falls over your face, and your chest rises with every breath.

“How does it feel?” he asks, rolling your nipple between chilly digits.

“Not enough,” you bemoan, curling your fingers into a fist. “S’not enough…”

“How fascinating. I suppose cheap wine truly does turn you into a pute.”

“No… Was definitely expensive. The fancy kind.”

“Was it now?” He circles your clit, predatory and shark-like, his eyes alight with glee. “You say that, but look at the state it’s left you in. Utterly disheveled.”

“That’s because of—” you gasp, your voice rising in pitch— “because of you…”

His heart hammers in his chest, a resounding, pounding melody.

The City of Flowers treasures its goats, and the crow loves his fiercely even though he shouldn’t.

“Did you enjoy drinking yourself foolish and indulging in debauchery?” His fingers dance along your inner thigh, hooking around the hem of your underwear. “Was it a fun celebration?”

You lower your arm to glare halfheartedly at him. “Someone sounds jealous.”

“More so disappointed, mon chou chou,” he coos, sugary, sickeningly sweet. “Someone could have taken advantage of you. Someone could have tainted you with magic.” His lip curls up into a nasty sneer. It lingers for a moment before fading into something calm. He gazes at you, oddly tender. “That didn’t happen, though, yes?”

You shake your head and flinch when he drags your panties down. Dewy strings of your slick come away with it, and you shudder at your newfound nudity. He hums approvingly and drags his finger through the wet patch staining your panties. Driven by libertine compulsion, he stretches viscous strands of your essence between two fingers.

Your eyes find his deceitful greens once more. Silence sparks between the both of you, quickly broken by your exhalation. Rollo kneels before you, taking in the sight of you as your face wavers through the stages of consideration. Upon arriving at your conclusion, you sit up slightly and shuck your dress over your head. And then you’re lying back, shaking your panties from off your ankle, and wrapping your legs around his waist to draw him in closer. 

You grin, coquettish. “Why not search for yourself if you’re so worried, Mr. Student Council President?”

There’s no turning back. Not that he ever would. Not when the goat’s given him the signal. The blade doesn’t fall, but he does.

And this is better than dreams and erotica. This is real.

He surges forward to fit his lips against yours. Sloppy and inexperienced, he molds himself to your body. You tug him against you, your hands working to undress him. Clothes and shoes are cast aside between open-mouthed kisses, torn off half-buttoned and ripped away from soles. You breathe him in, gasping into his mouth. Translucent strings of saliva connect your mouths when you part, soon broken when you lean in for a chaste peck.

“You’re okay,” he says, the words practically bleeding onto your own tongue with how close he is. “Still as pure as the day I first met you.”

“That’s a good thing, right?”

“The best thing.”

His third and fourth fingers prod at the depths of your pussy, pressing inwards. Shallow at first. He watches your face unblinkingly, burning every pleasured contortion into his brain, and slides his thumb along your clit. Your breathing staggers, coming in quick huffs, and you grab at the bedsheets to steady yourself. Rollo works you open on those fingers, curling and scissoring in equal measure. The slick squelches join in the salacious symphony you’re currently producing. Every sigh and groan come together in perfect harmony. You’re a heavenly harp, and he’s plucking your strings like an expert musician.

“Tonight is unforgivable,” he adds, and you blink through blissful tears to view him. “Folly is the worst distraction.”

“Then be stupid with me,” you joke, running your hands over his shoulders. He’s so cold. “Warm yourself with me.”

And he will because he’s always wanted to. He’s desired it. Craved it. Coveted it. Thought of nothing else for days and days, each delusion so cyclical it often felt tangible.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispers, sliding his other hand up your hip and towards your rib. He traces the path of where it lies beneath layers of flesh before pressing down to feel it. “So beautiful…”

Your hand glides into his, fingers twining like silken thread around a spool. A lopsided smile lifts your lips, and you preen under him. “Yeah? Am I really?”

“I wouldn’t lie about the obvious…” Your walls hug his fingers tighter then, and a shiver electrifies your nerves. He hums again, quite pleased. “Oh, did you like that?”

“I did. Very much.”

Lashes fluttering against your cheekbones, your head thrown back in ecstasy ever-mounting, you render him ensorcelled. Like a prized Renaissance nude, a goat laid to sacrifice in the crow’s nest, you are beatific. Divinely so.

“Allow me to reiterate then.” He hastens his pace, pumping his fingers relentlessly. You tamp down a shameless moan. “You’re exquisitely beddable. A work of art. Enchanting. Une belle femme.”

You’re nearing the edge—very gradually, but not quite—and so it’s devastating when he slips his fingers out, each one thoroughly coated in you. They shimmer in the dim light, reminding you of where they had previously been.

“Put it back in,” you beg with wide, glossy eyes. “C’mon… Please don’t stop now. Was so close. So close and—”

Your complaints are curbed when you follow his hand as it moves to wrap around his half-hard cock. He strokes himself thrice, using your slick as lube, until his cock is curving up against his stomach. You stare at him; he stares right back.

And then you realize he intends to go all the way.

“Wait, Rol…lo… S’not my safe day,” you say, shifting away. Whether impatiently or anxiously, he can’t tell, but he can certainly guess. Your world spins once, a dizzying blur, before it promptly clears. In the very center of your vision, as he’s always been, Rollo remains. “S’not safe…”

He smiles, the corners of his eyes crinkling with levity. “I know.”

He’s kept track, dutiful like always.

You attempt to crawl out from under him, but he stops you. Your stomach churns.

“I’ll pull out in time,” he promises, rubbing soothing circles into your plush hips.

Even with the alcohol still buzzing through your system, you aren’t convinced. “N-No, really, we should stop here…”

“You’ll feel so good. Come now, aren’t we nearly there already?”

Rollo lifts your legs onto his shoulders. You squirm with more determination this time, but his fingers dig into your thighs. With a startled squeak, you sink into the mattress, cowed into submission.

“We… We can’t.”

“Why not?” The smooth, soft head of his cock prods curiously at your pussy.

You chew your lip, admitting in a meek tone, “I… I could get p-pregnant…”

“Pregnant,” he parrots, tasting the word as if it’s a delicacy he has yet to sample. His cock twitches. “Pregnant…”

“So… So that’s why…”

“Do you not want children?”

“I… Well… Now is kinda…”

He presses onwards, sinking in slowly. Your breath hitches; your heart stumbles. The intrusion is not entirely unwanted, for your slick, snug walls cling to his shape, and you almost give in to bodily inclination. But it doesn’t feel right. You’re scared. No matter how naturally your body reacts, you don’t want this.

“Rollo, wait—”

“It would be a wonderful thing—to see you rounded with my children.” Rollo props himself on either side of you, his body pinned to yours in sinful, sweaty connection. He exhales a deep breath, restraining himself as he pushes deeper. Patience is a virtue, after all. Your expression tightens with discomfort, and so he peppers your face with placatory kisses. “To see you grow in and—mmh—out of the most flattering maternity wear. To behold every change that blesses this beautiful body of yours… To see you swell with my love, filthy as it may be. Ah, but pregnancy is just as messy… Nevertheless, it shall be a special bond for us—a sacred vow, if you will. We are connected here—” he punctuates this point by slotting the rest of his length inside, and your legs involuntarily close around him to keep him there— “and soon here when life develops within.”

One hand splays across your stomach to pat it with fondness. You choke on your helpless whimper when he rocks his hips once, experimenting with the movement. It’s awkward, but it reminds you that he’s inside. So close to your womb that in just a few more thrusts he might—

“No… No, please… Rollo, you have to—oh—have to pull out. Please pull out. Don’t wanna get pregnant…”

“Oh, but you would be so beautiful.” He breathes you in, savoring sex and floral fragrance. “If I’m allowed one miracle—just one for all the anguish I’ve endured—let it be this.”

You know not of what anguish he speaks, for he’s never verbalized it, but even so it can’t possibly be so agonizing that it would warrant such invasion.

The vise-like hold your velvety walls have on his cock is deliciously addictive. He groans while he ruts into you, his eyelids fluttering. He could be animalistic and cruel in his movements—ravish you as if the world is faced with annihilation and this is his final hour—but instead he settles for exploratory leisure. His hand fits into yours and he squeezes it gently. A feeble protest builds in your throat and so he swallows it with a hungry kiss, his mouth molding against yours.

Your nails dig into his shoulders when he draws back and slides in again, filling you deeper than before. You breathe between kisses, panting and licking into his mouth in even intervals. He does much the same, anchored to you in a way that is both temporary and yet so permanent.

The world narrows down to this single sliver of space, enclosed in a canopy. And in it, laid bare and fertile, the goat is sacrificed to the crow. Death cannot reach either one here. There is only the promise of new life, thrust upon the goat all at once.

You don’t have the willpower to object, for you’ve already found yourself entrapped, so instead you cry. Tears track down your cheeks; your mascara runs with it. Ruined. So, too, is your pitch-black lipstick, smeared along the edges of your lips and printed onto Rollo’s porcelain skin.

Rollo’s hips stutter to a halt and he holds you against him when he spills thick and hot inside. Nothing is wasted; it’s all emptied deep within. If you’re lucky, it won’t take. But if some mischievous fertility goddess has cursed you, you’ll wake nauseous in the coming weeks.

If you have anything worth praying for, it’s the former.

The both of you are panting in the aftermath, but only one is coming down from his glorious high. You remain unsatisfied, your peak not yet breached. Rollo rolls his hips once more for good measure before easing out. You crumple into the wrinkled sheets, frigid and still as a statue. Carved empty and hollow, yet stuffed with sin.

The crow has come. Though this time the gift of tragedy is something between boon and curse.

— — —

The curtains are drawn to let in sunlight. It filters in through frosted glass, each pane stamped with snow, and it blinds you the moment you try to open your eyes. You twist and turn in bed, feeling heavy with hangover. A splitting ache cracks your head in half, and you groan loudly.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you hiss, digging the heels of your palms into your eyes. “This sucks…”

You force yourself to wake after two more minutes of rolling around. Groaning once more, you sit up in bed. The canopy has been tied back in place, and when you glance sidelong at Rollo’s desk you notice something. A glass of water and a plate are waiting for you, seeming more enticing by the second. You throw the covers off, realize you’re nude seconds later, and promptly snatch them back. They’re wrapped around you like a comforting cloak. You stagger out of bed to check the contents. Two croissants, a single orange, a dollop of strawberry marmalade, and two tablets are arranged on the plate.

Hangover medicine, you realize, lifting one up to scrutinize it.

You peer around the room. It’s empty. And then you see the clock. It’s a little past noon.

“Oh,” you mumble, lowering into the chair. You clutch the blanket closer. “Rollo must be in class.”

Amidst the piercing migraine, which you quickly resolve by throwing your head back to swallow both tablets in a single gulp of water, two things occur to you. You’re in Rollo’s room. Naked. In Rollo’s room. Surely you must have spent the night after you returned from the party. Why are you naked?

But more importantly…

“Shit! My exam!” The excitement doesn’t help your current state, and you slouch in your seat, even more exhausted than before. “I completely missed it… Rollo’s gonna kill me.”

You scrub the sleep from your eyes and reach for a croissant, content with giving up. You don’t want to endure the walk of shame from Rollo’s room to yours. If anyone were to catch you, they’d certainly be left wondering.

As you nibble on the croissant, admiring the way Rollo’s arranged the contents of his room, you spot the edge of something beneath the plate. Perplexed, you push it aside to reveal a note. Penned in Rollo’s effortlessly pretty script, it reads:

I’ll forgive your transgression just this once if you’ll forgive mine. For now, get some rest. I’ve left breakfast here. Stay for however long you’d like.

You scowl at his attempt of ‘breakfast,’ and your stomach rumbles in dissatisfaction.

“Right?” you say to your stomach, clicking your tongue. “If anything, this is hardly a snack.”

But you’re grateful for his efforts. He cares. He always has. From the very first day you found yourself in this world, he cared.

While you peel the orange, pondering foggy recollections of last night, you begin to realize just how sticky you feel. As if someone’s slobbered all over you and left it to dry. The feeling persists between your thighs.

You pause momentarily, overcome with an uncanny sense of panic as you piece the puzzle together. The still-forming picture does not look good.

“Shit…” you whisper, haunted with a fragmented timeline. “What the hell did we do last night?”

You know. The deep, dark part of your brain knows, but you don’t want to confront it. Because Rollo wouldn’t, right? He couldn’t. He’s always done what’s best for you, so he wouldn’t.

Right?

[aereasrage]

The Favorite pt. 2

summary: If there is one trait the green children have all retained from their lady mother, it is their obsession with their little sister.

cw: very codependent mother-daughter relationship, platonic!yan!alicent, incest, incredibly dubious consent, voyeurism, mentioned animal cruelty, drugging, matching mother-daughter anxiety♥️

notes: the pairing for this chapter is mainly aegon x reader but that’s more a matter of plot setup. while there are jace x reader crumbs, we’ll get plenty of those two freaks (affectionate) later.

part 1

word count: 3.3k

Alicent’s decision to betroth her youngest to Aegon rather than Helaena was not one that came easily. It was also not one that came without resentment from her second son.

Logically, you should have been betrothed to Aemond or a lord from whichever house was suitable since it was Helaena who was born first and Aegon would have to wait years for you to be marriage age. But Alicent always knew she’d never marry you outside of your house, she needed you close at hand. A girl needs her mother, desperately, she knew that very well. She had suffered without her own mother, for it should have been her who guided her in matters of marriage, in holding her head high as a young girl living in such a tumultuous place as the red keep. But it would be different for you, she resolved. You would not suffer from being without your mother, you’d not enter marriage to a man you hardly knew. You’d have her as your eternal advocate. There were kinder men than your brothers who would have your hand, she could concede that much but Viserys had been kind and still she had been lost, had been isolated, she had still been wounded irreparably. No, what you needed most was to stay with your mother.

She thought of wedding you to Aemond, who followed you about like a little guard dog; but truly, she felt it wrong to marry Helaena to Aegon. She was a delicate girl, even more so than herself when she’d become queen. Aegon rejected even simply speaking directly to her when they were in the same room. Helaena was a strange sort of girl and though she loved her all the same, Alicent knew very well she couldn’t saddle the poor girl with the duties of a queen in addition to standing alongside a boy so unruly as Aegon. Aemond would be dutiful toward her, whether he wanted her for a bride or not. You, however, were the only one who would quell Aegon even temporarily. Your scoldings were the only ones that got any real reaction from him. He hovered near you and acted like a fool simply to hear your laughter.

She remembered that when you were small, you played with a newborn kitten you found in gardens. You’d insisted on taking him and his mother inside and caring for them as your pets. Aegon, who seemed to trail after you wherever you went then, had handled the poor thing too roughly and it had died. You had been so furious and bereaved that you refused to speak to him for weeks. In those weeks, Alicent witnessed her slovenly, shameless and apathetic son rush to and fro with gifts, trying to make you forgive him. To him, it had only been a game, a bit of fun, really. They were only little, what did their lives really matter? He had done the same with Helaena, crushing butterflies and moths in his hands in front of her. But even if he didn’t understand the fuss, even if he didn’t regret the act in and of itself, he truly felt remorse for hurting your feelings and even more so for making you so cross with him. He had stood outside your door drunkenly pleading every night before he went to bed. You were no fool. You could tell from his vague platitudes that he didn’t truly feel sorry for what he’d done, only for upsetting you. Which was why you continued ignoring him until he surprised you one night with the soft mewing of kittens outside your door.

You had rushed out to find a basket of orange kittens with Aegon standing nearby with a proud smile on his face. “Do you like them?” He had asked. You knelt to play with the wriggly kittens, they were mewing loudly, climbing over each other in the basket and they nibbled on your fingers when you pet them. You giggled. “Where did you find them? I hope you haven’t separated them from their mother.”

“Be at peace, sweet sister, I found them while I was about the streets. No mother in sight. You’re their mother now.” He clasped his hands behind his back tightly, hoping this offering would make you love him again. In reality, he’d been about the brothels, whining about the situation in the arms of a whore until she, a bit fed up with his weepiness, told him to simply buy you another kitten. King’s Landing was lush with cats coming and going from their owner’s homes, constantly getting pregnant and having squalling little babies that most would gladly sell if they could. Aegon had then lept up, tossed her some coin and set about his plan for redemption.

Alicent had never seen anything like it. Aegon bumbling about like a fool trying to impress you, to stay in your good graces when he wouldn’t do so much as be decent to stay in hers. She thought you’d make him a fine queen. It was your head that the crown would rest most easily on. Helaena would not be able to pull him this way and that as you did; and he would not be so kind to her as he was to you. So, she betrothed you to him and Helaena to Aemond. Aemond had his complaints but he knew his mother would only hear so many of them until she tuned him out. In his own eyes, he was the superior heir to the throne, dutiful and sedate but still it belonged to his worthless elder brother, he had come to terms with that much. He was only a second son, it was bitter and unfortunate but it was a matter of birth that was not to be mourned over forever. But to know that he had been denied his younger sister’s hand was enough to awaken that resentment again. Aegon was the firstborn son, he got to be unworthy and still have a bride above himself. Aemond was dutiful, he listened to their mother’s commands and what had he gotten for the trouble? His elder sister who should have been his brother’s bride.

What did Aegon know of love and duty toward you? It had been Aemond protecting you whenever Aegon was trying to lead you into some foolish plot outside the keep. It wasn’t fair. Why was he constantly being rewarded for his shamelessness? Why did duty not just go unrewarded but get penalized? It made his blood boil with indignation but there was nothing he could do except marry Helaena. Continue to do his duty as his mother insisted. He knew how to covet in silence.

Aegon once coveted his mother’s love, lamented that she did not love him even in his depravity as he felt a mother should. She had loved you since you were born but she could not even meet his eyes anymore. It gave him all the more reason to mope and stew in self pity, to brew an undue hatred toward you but as you grew, you were able to reach him with your smile. A giggle when he teased Aemond or when he made a fool of himself. You trusted him, loved him even. You, with the face of your mother, looked upon him with pleasure. He would have done anything to keep that. It was too late for Alicent’s love, he knew that much. But it would be easier to keep in your good graces, you didn’t really know him yet.

On the morning of your wedding day, Alicent helped you get ready. She sent away your maids as she often did. When you were just a child, she’d hover over them disapprovingly as they brushed your hair and admonish them for minor infractions until she simply snatched the brush from their hands with a sigh and took over. She hated for you to be touched by others, especially your lowborn maids. They didn’t understand how gentle you were, that you required an especially gentle hand. She was also the only one who truly knew what hairstyles you best suited. She knew how to put pins in your hair without hurting you even once, she knew how to braid your hair tight enough to hold but not tight enough to give you a headache. She loved your hair, she could not bear to see anyone mistreat it.

Today, you were to wear your house colors. Helaena sat on the floor, fiddling in your jewelry box, handing Alicent a golden necklace with rubies to drape across your neck. The cool metal made you flinch as it touched your skin. You were trembling, frightened of a day where all eyes were to be on you. “You look lovely,” Helaena said quietly. “I’ve never seen you in red before, it makes you look like a little ladybug.” You smiled at her, not wanting to ignore her kindness even despite your anxiety. “Thank you.”

Alicent stepped back to look at you. “You do look lovely,” she said, sadly. Her eyes were misted over with tears seeing you dressed befitting a Targaryen bride. You were but small to her. Here you were, looking as she did when she was wed to Viserys. It made her realize just how young and frightened she must have looked then. “Enough to bring the seven kingdoms to their knees.” She mustered a smile. Your fate was not hers, she assured herself, all you needed was your mother’s care and unlike her, you would always have it.

“I'm frightened…” You unraveled at your mother’s praises, giving away your façade to confess your anxieties to your mother who had always soothed them. Alicent pulled you into her arms delicately, so as not to smoosh your intricately done hair. “Oh, sweetling,” she murmured, tearing up. “It is alright.”

“The eyes of the whole court on me...” Your voice carried such a heartbreaking note of fear. You were near trembling in her arms, Alicent almost wished to put off the wedding entirely. She did not seek to wed you to Aegon for her own folly, but because you had to be wed as a princess and if not within the family, to someone outside who would steal you from her arms and perhaps harm you. And were she to send you to become a septa, you’d also have to part from her. You'd be alone and without her guidance. She knew why she was doing what she was doing and that it was the only thing to do, even so, it nearly broke her. But she was no longer a frightened child, she was the one whose job it was to be strong.

After holding you in her arms for some time, she soothed you and finally resolved to walk you down the altar. It was unusual for a mother to walk her daughter down the altar and tongues would certainly wag for her coddling you but she didn't care. If you could not go alone, she would always offer you her hand. She took your trembling hand in her warm, certain one and led you down to Aegon. When you reached him, she continued to hold your hand, standing to the side of you, mouthing the vows you'd near forgotten in your nervousness. Her eyes flitted about the sept, making sure everyone was behaving properly, she wouldn't have anyone embarrassing you with whispers of gossip. They could do that when they left the keep, when they were far enough away that she could keep their insults from reaching your ears.

Luckily, though it seemed there was a bit of talk, many found your timid disposition to be endearing or at least unsurprising due to your elder sister’s shared reticence. When you got to the feast, many already tipsy lords and ladies came up to you, speaking sweet words to wish you congratulations on the wedding. Still, it did little to lessen the anxiety you felt growing toward your next task as a wife. Aemond had given a toast in which he very pointed asserted that his sword would always be at your service and that if you should need a dutiful man to rely on, he would be at your side in a moment’s notice. Helaena had expressed her wish that all of your time would not be stolen away by Aegon. Rhaenyra and her lot were there, to her chagrin, her eldest son's dark eyes lingered on you, lusting for what was not his, as usual. She wanted more than anything to have him sent from the feast for leering at her daughter but she knew that would not do, she was at least glad that it escaped your notice. Rhaenyra had once offered a marriage bid between you and Jacaerys; seeing how well the two of you played as children but Alicent had, of course, refused. Aemond had been tasked from then on with keeping you away from all of her bastard boys, the Driftmark incident had only further strengthened her resolve. Had she let one of those boys lay hands on you, the gods only know how much you'd pay for it.

Alicent remembered her own wedding night, the pain and the odd need for her to stifle her tears. She remembered thinking of how strange it was that this man was now her husband, now with her in the most intimate way and even so, she had to keep up a certain countenance. She should not share her pain and displeasure with him. He was not just a man, nor her king or her husband, he was a job. Her heart was aching every moment just looking at you and remembering.

She had always resolved to help you through. She wouldn't dare let you suffer. She handed you a goblet of wine which you took without hesitation, drinking it down in hopes that inebriation would help you tolerate the night ahead. But Alicent had thought ahead and had your goblet filled with poppy wine to make you sleepy, pliant and unable to feel such fear and pain as she had. By the time you and Aegon bid your guests goodnight, you were in the clouds. But her job was not done.

When you and Aegon reached your chambers, Alicent followed, helping you onto the bed. Aegon gave her a look. "Really, mother...Don't tell me you need to see me bed her to believe I can." He was insulted by her feeling the need to hover over even his wedding night. How could she believe he'd do something untoward to the only sibling he truly loved? Aegon's mind swirled with undue indignation at his mother's presence.

"I won't have you damage her, Aegon." Alicent said, warily without any bite to her words but with a resolve that would not be argued against.

Meanwhile, as Aegon whined back to her, you laid on the bed which somehow felt softer than anything you'd ever slept on before, your mind gone away and into the sky with the dragons. You heard the murmuring voice of your mother and it made you feel warm inside, it made you miss her hand which had held yours before. "Mother..." you mumbled. Alicent was at your side in an instant, whispering soothing words as she carefully took off your wedding dress, “I'm right here, sweetling, it's alright." She draped it over the back of a chair and turned to Aegon, "I'll be looking over you, as often as need be. You've skirted your duties for too long now, I won't have you hurt her in another of your grasps for pleasure. She is your wife, not a whore.” Then, she perched in a chair near the bed, eyeing him mistrustfully

Aegon frowned and took off his clothes with a huff before her, climbing onto the bed, hovering over you. He was frustrated from his mother’s insult and his breaths came harshly as he struggled to proceed with the night with any dignity. He had trouble even getting it up, feeling his mother’s prying eyes on him, waiting to scold him. Your hand came up suddenly to cup his cheek, your bleary eyes meeting his and a soft smile tugging at your lips. That moment of tenderness was all that he needed. It fell into place nicely for him then. You were his lady wife, you loved him and finally, he could have you as any man wishes to have a woman. His mother’s uncertain gaze mattered nothing in that moment. All that mattered was you beneath him; soft, forgiving.

He was…made capable by just your hand on his cheek and his own hand went to his cock, stroking it to full hardness as he spit in the other to rub into you. He began trying clumsily to loosen you up. He had only ever been with whores and the stray serving girl now and again, he was unused to pleasuring a woman. He wasn’t sure carnal pleasure was something women like his mother and sisters felt, perhaps it was truly only a service that only baseborn women were willing to lower themselves to. Even so, he wished for you to cry out like they did, to writhe in pleasure under his ministrations. To prove himself to you and to your mother somehow.

Alicent sat quietly, already nauseous at the display. She wanted to cover your eyes, to take you back into her arms and have you only for herself forevermore. Yet, as a queen and a mother, she had to accept that it was his and your duty. She watched on with a stoic look. Her audience was necessary, Aegon hadn’t convinced her otherwise even with his whining, but it didn’t mean that it was pleasant for her. It was her duty to her daughter to make sure that you weren’t going to be hurt, no matter how unseemly it all felt. Mercifully, you were peaceful, sighing softly at Aegon’s machinations, as though you’d soon fall asleep. Your head lolled to the side, gazing at your mother who hurriedly put a small smile on her face. You smiled back, clearly still in the clouds, even as Aegon grew impatient and finally decided you were wet enough.

“Gentle,” Alicent hissed, a ball of anxiety in the corner of the room. Aegon did not acknowledge her save for a soft scoff but was a bit more careful in his actions…a bit.

It didn’t hurt much, there was just a slight sting with each snap of his hips. Otherwise, it didn’t feel like much of anything, either due to the wine or Aegon himself. But as you were lost between dreams and reality, you sighed softly at the gentle rocking of the bed. Aegon took this as your pleasure and he was further spurred on. He sped up, his own sounds of pleasure ringing out in the quiet room. Your dreamy expression was entirely due to the poppy wine but Aegon would never know that. All he could feel was the rush of pleasing his sister, of his own pleasure, of proving his mother wrong. He was overzealous, coasting on the desperate little burst of scarce pride it all brought him.

Meanwhile, Alicent’s body shuddered in revulsion and horror. She bit down hard on her lip, trying to suppress a strangled sound of distress. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears. To watch her most treasured daughter…she did not have the stomach for it. It was her duty, one she’d taken on willfully but she had not been thinking of herself then. She had not been thinking of how much it would remind her of Viserys. She had nearly cried out herself when Aegon had first entered you. When the two of you were done—well, when Aegon was done, he slumped over to the side of the bed, apparently exhausted with his arm still around you. She sat for a while in silence, staring blankly into space and considering everything. You, however, were still just barely awake. “Mother…” you murmured just as she was trying to gather sense again.

Alicent snapped back into reality. “Yes, sweetling?” she breathed, overwhelmed by the display she had just seen but still wanting to attend you. She quickly grabbed a nightgown from your wardrobe to cover you.

“Stay with me, please,” you said as she pushed Aegon aside and carefully slid on your nightgown.

Alicent’s heart melted at the words. She sat at the side of your bed and wrapped her arms about you, pressing your head to her chest. Her voice wavered. “I would not dream of leaving you.”

[hanibalistic]

CANNIBAL, MURDER, CHURCH | LEE HEESEUNG. PARK JONGSEONG.

genre | brother!heeseung, godbrother!jay 

synopsis | jay always thought there was something weird about you and heeseung. turns out it's much worse than what he imagined.  

word count | 4.4k+

warning | mention of violence, killing, cannibalism, blood, injuries, bite marks / implications of an incestuous relationship

note | 哥哥我要殺了你 / i've been really into 骨科 recently so i brought this piece back

Heeseung swung your bedroom door open with force strong enough to screw the doorknob loose. 

Jay ignored the frustrated footsteps raging behind him as he carefully laid you down on your bed. 

He remained silent when you pulled your legs up to your chest, avoiding the covers he grabbed to drape over you. He figured you were cold, considering your skin was; he felt the staking chill from the back of your knees when he carried you here from Heeseung’s room, which was left in a mess after the recent commotion. 

You might have dodged his good intention on purpose, and neither would he question nor denounce it. After all, he did just forcefully inject you with a sedative. Without proper medical training, the needle likely stabbed a new bruise on your arm. He couldn't check it if he tried to. The spot was covered by the sleeve of your shirt. 

Gently dropping the blankets at your feet, letting them cover your toes, Jay pulled from the edge of your bed. Heeseung stopped next to him. The bed of sweat on his head was kept afloat by his hair, and his chest still huffing from the marathon he ran from the hospital to home after he received multiple missed calls and one defining text of 'Help. [Name]' from Jay.

 “What happened?” Heeseung asked.

“I should be asking that,” Jay said after a moment of contemplating silence. 

When his father first brought you and Heeseung into his home, he recognized that you were like two peas in a pot. Being brought into a new environment so suddenly must have been difficult. Jay never questioned your inseparable bond, but it continued for the past few months. If anything, at this point, Jay would go as far as to say you two were unhealthily codependent on each other. 

He didn't judge it, though. It made sense for you two to be so close. His father, your godfather, had told him your parents died at an early age. After knowing the system had plans to separate you two, Heeseung fled with you and practically filled the role of a father. Nobody knew how that was possible, especially when Heeseung shouldn't have the ability to plot like that at his age. 

Jay’s father chalked it up to the system being underfunded and understaffed, so it must have slipped past their grasp when two children went missing. Jay thought it was a hoax on Heeseung’s part, that he wasn’t telling the whole story about what happened to your family.

But, other than history, things have been suspicious. For a pair of siblings, for being an older brother, Heeseung was alarmingly aware of your existence. He was protective and borderline possessive of you, but that didn't nearly baffle him as much as how you two regarded your physical intimacy as something natural to share. 

You always hung out with each other and went wherever the other one went. You ate the same meal simultaneously and always sat as close to each other as possible. He has never seen someone your age who'd still openly hold their brother's hands or sit between their brother's legs during a movie night. 

Given what you guys went through together, he understood being hyper-vigilant, but everything else was unreasonable. Jay had suspicions about the extent of your relationship with Heeseung, but he never spoke a word of it. 

He was never confrontational, to begin with. Not to mention, he was still trying to fit into your circle now that his father had moved you two into their home and started his role as the godfather. He ought to blend into your family by first becoming you and Heeseung's (god)brother, too, and interrogating you for answers would ruin it.

However, after what just happened, he changed his mind. 

Turning his body to face Heeseung fully, he raised his arm to show the unbuttoned cuff of his black dress shirt. Heeseung stepped back instinctively at the proximity of their bodies and sneered that he was intimidated by Jay’s firm silence. He curled his fists by his side as Jay carefully rolled his sleeve up to reveal three bite marks spanned irregularly across his forearm, all of them in the shape of teeth.

Your teeth, specifically. He has seen and felt enough of them to know.

“Care to explain what this means?” Jay asked, putting his injured arm in Heeseung’s line of sight.

Heeseung stared at it with a clenched jaw. That and the frantic attempts to reach him were enough resources for him to assume what happened while he was away. 

What a shame. He managed to keep the secret safe for so long. He was so diligent and meticulous, fixating on every timetable and operating based on strict discipline. He held your limbs together and bit your teeth back for you. All for an unpredictable accident to pull the curtains open. 

Heeseung curled and uncurled his hands, and then he glanced at you. You appeared unharmed. Even if you were, if his assumption was correct, the sedative would alleviate the pain and discomfort you were feeling anyway. But he doubted you were. 

He hated to admit it, but if there was one thing he could count on Jay to do, it was to never intentionally hurt you. 

“I asked you first,” he said. “What happened?”

“That’s not how this works. I hold more leverage against you,” Jay said. 

“I don’t know anything about tests and examinations, but I’m sure if I take this to the hospital, they will be able to find [Name]’s saliva over my injuries, and I will technically be able to press charges.”

He tilted his head. "Or are you going to forge the test results like you forge medical orders to steal sedatives from the hospital? I must say, Lee Heeseung, undetectable handwriting forgery is some skill to have."

Heeseung smirked bitterly. He hasn't gotten in trouble with the hospital yet, so Jay must have pulled some strings behind the scenes with his daddy's money to confirm a suspicion he already had. 

But Jay was right. With so much evidence on hand, he was at a loss here. Unfortunately, he wasn’t willing to kill anyone to keep a secret, so the only option was to tell the truth.

“What did you see?” he asked. 

“Are you going to keep fighting me on this?”

“It’s easier to explain it through your eyes,” Heeseung retorted. “Tell me what happened.”

Jay dropped his arm, careful not to press his wounds against his clothes. It stopped hurting for a while, but everything else lingered. Psychologically, he knew vividly the injuries were there and have been there, and how they were caused. He couldn't ignore anything about it despite it not reminding him anymore.

He smacked his tongue over his front teeth and rolled his eyes. Heeseung's question has an easy answer because it is so dramatic that he remembers everything that went down, and it has a difficult answer because it is a sorry sight. 

He had gone home to pick something up between classes. This would have never happened if he hadn't forgotten to bring it when he left for school this morning. What he initially thought was a burglar turned out to be you, but in Jay's head, he wasn't sure if he could ever consider such psychotic desperation as you. 

You were always so quiet and presentable, walking with a ghostly grace that alerted nobody. Stealth was your special skill, and he didn't think you even knew it. You have crept up on him multiple times, either to get something he was blocking or to get his attention. You often used gestures, though, pointing at objects and motioning for him to make space.

He rarely heard you speak. Jay always thought it was social anxiety that prevented you from verbally interacting one-on-one with others, and that very well might still be the case despite all the other factors. 

But, otherwise, Heeseung was your keeper. He made most of your decisions and spoke for you.

You had been rummaging through Heeseung’s room when Jay found you. Throwing papers off of desks and tissues out of trashcans, drool dripping uncontrollably down your chin as you hyperventilated away the hunger in the pit of your tummy. 

Jay had thought you were drunk off your mind when he saw you. He tried to coax you out of your endeavor; it didn’t work. When he circled his arm around your body, one hand reached out to pull your head away from sticking under your brother’s bed, you bit him and didn’t let go.

He had been careful not to shove you off or exert any force to pull you away from him, but his stability gifted him two additional sets of teeth marks, so he ended up having to hold your head and rip his skin off your teeth.

“They were looking for sedatives,” Jay said, holding back a wince as he recounted the event. “They told me to inject it, so I did.” 

He found it in a childish-looking safe located on top of a bookshelf. It was where people usually discard unwanted things, but in Heeseung's case, it was a hiding spot. Surprisingly, the password to access the safe wasn't related to either you or him, so Jay ended up having to pry it open with a tool. 

Inside the safe were bottles and needles. Sedatives, Jay recognized.

Heeseung licked his lower lip when Jay’s voice dropped from the brief explanation. He stared at the floor but managed enough consciousness away from his thoughts to shift his weight and rub the bridge of his oily noise by pinching it with his thumb and index finger. 

He wasn’t ready to face the idea of another person being in the know of your condition, but again, he wasn’t willing to kill someone again. 

“This is my fault,” he muttered. 

Jay raised a brow. “What is?”

Lowering himself, Heeseung extended his arm and ran his hand harshly over your hair. He moved closer to your face, intently observing the state of your unfocused eyes. They were clouded and sorrowful, filled with tears once fallen, and they were ready to fall again now that your brother was finally willing to touch you. 

"Hey," he smiled, rubbing his thumb over your eyes, " I'm back." 

"I did something bad," you whispered.

"No, you didn’t." Sighing, softened, smitten, Heeseung smoothed the back of his fingers down the side of your face. "Good job looking for the sedative.”

You spared no reaction to the tip of his nose brushing against yours. It could have been the sedation, or you were used to your brother being so close. Jay grimaced as Heeseung visibly glanced down at your mouth and then back up at your eyes, and then nothing more than that.

Getting onto your bed in his outdoor clothes, creasing your sheets into a familiar pattern, Heeseung placed his hands under your thigh and the small of your back to lift you forward. Once there was enough space, he moved to sit behind you, his legs spread to cage you between them. 

You habitually leaned back onto your brother’s chest. His frame towered over yours, familiar and safe.

"I'm sorry. I've been so busy with work and school lately that I neglected you," he whispered, nudging the side of your head with his jaw.

His adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he spoke, akin to the beat of his heart. You slowly moved a hand up to touched it with your fingers, pulling at his skin and pressing your thumb gently against it.

He never flinched when you touched his throat, even though a few years ago, you bit him so hard that you tore some skin off of it. He was left with ugly scabs for a while, and he made you apply medicinal cream on them daily as punishment.

Smirking at your silent pleas, he pulled your hand away from his neck, his fingers folding you snuggly around himself. The neck must have some anatomical advantage that makes it so well-loved. He was never sure what it was. It could be the strong shape, the pulsing blood flowing beneath, or its position on the human body providing easy access. 

One thing he knew for sure, though, was that it’ll be a long time before he allows you access to his throat again. 

"You are adorable, but that is off-limits," he said, and you obeyed. “You must be hungry."

His hair fell over his eyes as he stared down at you, making the perfect slant of his nose and his smile the only visible features to grace others. If Jay had to guess, he was sure Heeseung's eyes were soft and spoiled when he looked at you. 

The wavering chemistry of your positions and interactions that could be noticed by an unassuming passersby was not lost on Jay, but he wasn't sure if there was anything concrete to make of it. 

Heeseung circled his arm around your neck and tipped his finger at your mouth. ”Do you want a bite?”

Jay furrowed his brows. After the minor public display of affection, that was the last thing he thought would come out of Heeseung’s mouth.

"Excuse me. What?”

Heeseung looked surprised when he turned from you to his new brother as if he wasn't already aware of Jay's presence in the room. He stared at the other man to blatantly access him. Stone-faced, strong jaw, with grit spaced between each purse of his lips and furrow of his brows. 

Jay knew how to read the room. He wasn't stupid and supposed that was all Heeseung had to bet on. 

"[Name] is a bit of a cannibal," he said.

Was Jay surprised? In retrospect, not quite.

"What do you mean a little? You either eat people or you don't," Jay questioned.

"They have cravings. They do eat if an opportunity presents itself, but we've learned from our mistakes," Heeseung said. "I've trained them to settle with chewing on skin occasionally. They don't eat anymore, but they do get hungry. What happened just now will happen when you leave it too long." 

“Jesus Christ,” Jay whispered as he shook his head in disbelief. Heeseung made sense. His story wasn’t completely implausible. The worst part was that he was nonchalant about it. “How–how did you even find out?”

“We’re not ready to let you know yet,” Heeseung replied with a firm glare. 

“Have they actually eaten anyone?”

“We’re also not ready to let you know that yet.”

Jay held a hand up and closed his eyes, squeezing it to force discomfort so he could better maintain his composure. “This whole one entity, ‘we’ speaker thing is driving me out.”

“Then get out,” Heeseung mused, his brow raise borderline condescending. “You’re not required here.”

“Well, I require myself to be here,” Jay retorted with a frown. “How have they… dealt with the problem before?”

“It’s not a real problem. You people made it up.” Heeseung rolled his eyes.

"First of all, I'm not the founding father of words," Jay said. "Second of all, I'm not going to sit here and defend the dictionary definition of what a problem is."

“Like I said,” Heeseung pointed at the door, “you are welcome to leave.”

“I am also [Name]’s brother!”

“I’m not going to sit here and argue the legal definition of whether a godsibling counts as a real sibling.”

“Touché,” Jay clicked his tongue. He glanced at you and gulped, finally meeting eyes with you for the first time after standing here and arguing about you as if you weren’t here. But that’s what you were used to; leaving yourself up for others to debate, for your brothers to debate. 

He looked back up at Heeseung and exhaled, his jaw locking. “But if that’s who I consider myself, you can’t stop me. I deserve to know.”

Heeseung raised a brow in mild approval. He always knew Jay had everything it took to stand his ground. Being raised with immense wealth, that man grew up to be both confident and humble. However, if his upbringing taught him anything, it was that money talks. Someone with the trust fund he does should fear no one and nothing.

He let you play with his fingers and put them in your mouth, nibbling on them and trying to prick his nails out. You were clearly uninterested in the conversation. He pinched your cheek harshly when you hurt him, and you softened your approach. He rubbed the redness away, pressing his face to your head apologetically. 

“I used to feed myself to them,” he muttered without looking at Jay.

“You cut yourself up?”

“No, I’m afraid of self-inflicting pain,” he said. “I just let them gnaw on me until they’re satisfied.” 

Heeseung never took a knife and sliced parts of his flesh for you. But if you had asked for it, he thought he might forgo the pain and do it. He also never allowed you to actually consume flesh due to health reasons. Your body was not immune to diseases carried by others. God knows the horrific possibilities if you end up eating human meat. 

You settled with gnawing on flesh. Heeseung taught you to, and you never complained about that. You liked it. You were enamored with the sensation lingering at the tip of your teeth when you sank them into a place between skin and bone. You loved the threat of mutilation and the waltz of moving toward and backing away from that point. 

You remembered your brother's blood tasted bitter like expired grapefruit. You remembered how his gentle palm caressed your head after the deed to lure you to slumber.

"Have you never tried to get help?" Jay asked. 

“What do you think would happen to us if this gets out? We will get separated, so I made sure we can both keep a secret,” Heeseung said as he rolled his sleeve up, your head banging against his shoulder in the process. 

"No, that's not–" This wasn't a battle he understood, but the urge to prove his existing beliefs correct was overwhelming. Although he even thought he would have this conversation. "You're supposed to get them professional help.”

"Why do you think I'm planning to attend medical school?”

He hasn’t asked Jay’s father for any handouts so far. Besides the unstoppable freeloading in his home, which he would have compensated financially for if given the chance, Heeseung hasn’t asked for anything from his godfather because he was saving up all his favors for medical school expenses.

"Oh my god? So, what? You're just going to deal with this–" Jay cut himself back when he almost referred to you as baggage. He shook his head in dissatisfaction, avoiding Heeseung's divided attention. "You're planning to do this alone? For the rest of your life?"

"Yes," Heeseung said without hesitation. "I'm their brother.”

"You're missing a defining description of yourself, that's for sure.”

Heeseung looked up. His blanket stare prowled through Jay's conscience, and for the first time, Jay questioned himself. Intentionally bringing you closer to him, Heeseung sneered faintly. 

"What you're implying is inconsequential to the grand scheme of things.”

Jay returned the stare momentarily before he looked down at the floor, chuckling in defeat. Heeseung was a brother who loved you a little too much, and you were too dependent on his care and support. In a way, you both save and destroy each other.

Given the circumstances, Jay couldn't imagine it otherwise.

"They get anxious with new people around. The anxiety makes them hungry like fear makes people's stomachs empty," Heeseung muttered. His breaths were soft against the back of your neck. "I should have taken precautions and fed them more. I was too careless." 

He might have begun his medicine studies for you, but he actually enjoyed the topic. He also wanted to give it his all at school and the workplace. It all got to his head, overloading him with tasks and stress. He got careless. 

Pulling the tip of his index finger out from between your teeth, he habitually rubbed away the wetness before moving to uncurl the sleeve of his undershirt. Jay silently gasped at the scars littered across Heeseung’s arm, all similar in shape but irregular in placement. 

His arm has become a template that measures the shape of your violence, your anxiety, your teeth. Bruises scattered across made more visible in comparison to his paleness. 

It was second nature to Heeseung, to a point where the habit of earning and owning those bruises cannot be unlearned. The next step of his mental leap would be the state of yearning—chaotically, desperately seeking for a morsel of your bite, to be mutilated by your mouth.

Jay looked down at his own arm. It was almost identical to Heeseung’s. This was just the beginning.

“Here." Heeseung put his arm to your mouth, angling it so there’s a plain surface to feast on. “Bite me, but not too hard. You’re gonna break me.”

It was like a love confession, or something much worse than that. It’s chronic suicide; an oath to it, between you and him.

Jay watched as you sniffed Heeseung's skin, rubbing your nose against the surface, and then, finally, you kissed a spot on his arm. The kiss led to a bite, your lips spreading open to bring him inside. 

Heeseung pursed his lips in pain, but his chest heaved out as he relaxed upon your satiation.

He couldn’t pinpoint the difference between this and the closeness of regular lovers. He wouldn’t point at one or the other and announce that one was true love while the other wasn’t.

"Wait." 

He didn't know what took over him, but the request came out before he knew it. Jay shrunk faintly at Heeseung's glare, his resolve breaking again. But this time, he was pathetic. He was a man with a favor to ask.

"You can leave,” Heeseung said monotonously.

“No. It's just–this is partially my fault," Jay said. "You said they get anxious around new people. I am considered one of those new people.”

“Get to the point.”

Jay’s thoughts were in complete disarray, but standing tall among all the incoherence was a fallacy birthed through one immense curiosity: how it feels to be bitten. Or at least it must be.

There was no other quality more fundamental to humanity than curiosity. Besides that, it must be love.

Jay has conditioned himself to care about you and Heeseung now that he has become part of the family, but he didn't think he loved you with the same intensity and meaning as Heeseung did.

It didn't make sense that he would offer himself the way Heeseung did to you. It wasn't natural. 

Surely, your brother knew that this wasn't normal. A man of his caliber—determined and intelligent, daring and responsible—must know this crosses an unspoken territory. 

So then, if it didn't come from him, the obsession must be you?

Approaching the bed, Jay ignored the dissatisfied expression on Heeseung's face as he propped one knee on the bed and exposed his skin to your face. Light gradually lit up your stoic eyes with an uncertain huger, and Jay cleared his throat.

"You can take a bite," he said.

You looked behind you at Heeseung for approval. His eyes flipped back and forth between you and Jay, and then he reluctantly nodded.

Patience was a virtue Jay had since birth, and endurance was a skill he learned.

He never knew how far he could take or was willing to take until he felt your fingers wrap around his hand and your teeth squeeze into his flesh. He furrowed his brows upon the initial clench, and he never got used to it as you printed your front teeth better than any tattoo gun has ever drawn on his skin.

Your bites were merciless, but it was different than the previous ones you left on him. You were more controlled now, eating with timid etiquette, a reflection of a wolf begging not to be feared, begging to feel intimacy. 

It hurt with a newfound sensation. 

Jay looked down at you. Saliva and blood painted the corners of your lips and his skin, and your teeth dragged against his skin whenever you hiccupped into a moan.

He watched you hold yourself back, your brain squirming to adhere to your brother's rules. His breathing picked up. It was uncanny. 

It hurt with a newfound sensation—perseverance, devotion, attachment.

He put himself in your brother's shoes for once, and he realized the roles were reversed.

Instead of Heeseung sacrificing everything for you, he has you caged in the confined of his walls. He taught you to only crave his flesh, to run everything by him first. He sculpted you to need him incessantly so he could have you all to himself.

He gives you everything you want, which is him, so you give him everything he wants, which is you. A neverending supply of mutual desire. An endless supply of love, which had always begun with consumption anyway. 

One cannot claim to love anymore without knowing how it feels inside them. And there was no God. There was no other God but your heaving satisfaction in creating and licking his wounds. An ambiguous truth, a corrupted awakening—the obsession to be consumed, the obsession to be chosen, the obsession of you.

Taboo, stigmatized, predatory, and real. More real than anything he has ever felt.

Jay understood. 

“[Name], careful,” Heeseung urged with a hand around Jay’s wrist, lightly pushing it out of your mouth. He stared straight at the blood rolling down your chin, seeping into the cracks of your dry lips, mixing with your saliva. The saliva he was used to smelling. “Not too much of him.”

"It's okay," Jay muttered immediately after, the stinging pain present and overwhelming. But in that instant, he knew Heeseung was right about everything. "They're hungry. Let them eat."

“You're bleeding,” Heeseung accused.

“Yes." Jay nodded. "What else am I supposed to do? Not let them get what they want?"

Heeseung's eye twitched, but he'd take cooperation over any other reaction. "I take it that you will keep a secret.”

"Of course," Jay said. "I am a brother, after all.”

And his hands are ready to bleed.

[kittyscupcakeandbunny]

Set Me Free

18+

Part five

Good Girl Gone Mad

Characters: Min Yoongi as Agust D/Mafia boss, Jung Hoseok as Jack/Concierge, Namjoon/Police detective, Jungkook/Police detective, Park Jimin/thief and gang leader, Taehyung/Mafia member, Paradise owner. Jin/unknown, Busan/Mafia boss.

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Warnings: This story contains nsfw content (descriptive blood, gore, etc.) as well as sexual content. Mentions may include violence, consumption of alcohol, explicit sexual interactions, sharp objects, knife play, description of injuries, themes of major horror and also explores obsessive behaviors and codependency, robbery, killing, guns, torturing, fire, toxic yandere men, violence, possessive behaviour, unhealthy relationships.

🩸My master list 🩸

We Go Down Together - Dove Cameron & Khalid

< Previously • Next Chapter >

My mind have been a mess ever since i encountered agust d but that was also the moment i saw a chance to prove my worth at the station and to finally be one of them like Namjoon, it was a chance for me to get the bad guy and that was always my priority ever since i decided to become a police officer. As the days went by i found myself growing more and more impatient. The more my path crossed with Yoongi the more my greed became apparent, meeting Yoongi it was like a fire burning my skin, he brought out the things in me that I never once thought i had it it was uncomfortable to be in such situations I hade found myself to be so easily influenced by his presence that I just simply lost control. It was dangerous to be close to him but now more then ever I had no choice but to stay by his side but being with him i realized a part of me that was living dormant for all these years. I’m going down a path i never once thought considered fallowing and for that reason I’m lost inside this hell by my own choice, i had so much pride of my own morals and achievements when i started working at the station, my beliefs where always to make the world a better place by making the right choices and protecting those who made the same choices. After losing my dad i knew i wanted to fallow the path he did, make the right decisions and help people from the darkness of this world.

But what no one tells you about fallowing the right path is that to be a hero, is to bear the weight trying to bring justice to those who have no power but, you cannot.

Our laws exist to protect us but they are so limited to a point where even if you know who’s the bad guy, without any solid evidence they will just be set free from punishment. The worst part is you know they are going to hurt people again.

I never wanted to be part of this, somehow I’m grateful but at the same time I regret it very deeply all my choices. All it took was one slip and i was in the rabbit hole, that same darkness the people i was supposed to put in jail lived in, sooner or later, we always give in that slip to taste a new world.

I was taught to do the rigt thing and always fallow the rules, with my dad playing the biggest part into this. I know that justice takes time and you can’t always do the right thing. The more i thought about the things i had done so far the more i realized, i was only trying to hold on the small part of me who still lives in my past. The girl who worked at her fathers police station, the girl who loved Namjoon and would do everything she could to fallow her fathers steps and protect the last family she had.

Right or wrong are just concepts made by us to justify our actions, who really decides was right or wrong in this? In the end we all have to count on someone else’s empathy to get a less harsh punishment. If a convicted criminal of murder shows remorse he could use the empathy of the judges, the same laws that are there to protect us also protect them, whether they are faking it or not.

There is no god in this, we are all by ourselves here trying to live in a world were anyone you cross paths could be a psychopath.

As Jack drove us back to the mansion this was all i could think of, feeling a weight over my chest press down my heart against my bones and the emptiness it left as if killing that men was the last straw to selling my soul to the devil and I could feel every bit of it happening under my skin.

All that didn’t phase Yoongi even the smallest bit, i stared at him sitting comfortably beside me he had his eyes closed a relaxed almost pleasant look on his face. It made me wonder if he even felt anything when he killed his first victim, was he a normal person once? Did life made him a monster? What lead him into this world?

Once we got at the mansion he walked out first and i fallowed him out, keeping on his shadow as he entered the mansion and slowly walked towards his office.

No one said a word the entire time and i could already feel the hot tension rise by the seconds, if he notice my presence behind him he didn’t mentioned and as we finally got in his office he was quick to fill a glass with alcohol while i turned to closed the doors behind me slowly sitting in on of the couches on the room.

He took the sit on the other couch in front of me lighting a cigarette the fire shining bright in front of his face making the scar on his eye even more noticeable, never failing to make his looks sharp and scarier. He took a blow of it before finally looking at me for the first time since we got here.

Whatever went through his head in that moment i knew it was far away from any comfort words, i never expected that from him and i wasn’t disappointed by it.

I had taking someone else’s life to save my brother, the only thing i want now is the truth he had promised me.

- if you are expecting a hug from me.. i hate to disappoint - was the first thing he said, scoffing a laugh.

- i wouldn’t dare to - i was quick to reply, getting a chuckle from him.

- then why did you fallow me? - he asked, clearly amused taking a sip of the drink in his hand while the cigarette burned between his fingers - wanna make sure i fallow the end of our bargain?

- yeah…

- don’t worry it’s done - he said, as if it was nothing. But i founded hard to believe, it couldn’t be as simple as that.

I never expected but it still angered me, moved by the fire inside me i got up making my way towards him i harshly took the cigarette from his fingers, taking a blow of it before turning to him.

- since you’ve proven yourself Yoongi why don’t you start talking? - i spat - i don’t want your compassion, i know you got none. From you i just want one thing, the damn truth.

- why? - he scoffed, turning to look at me impatiently - you think you’ll go back to that silly life of yours? Get over it, is too late for that. You’re in my world now, you get what i give when i decide to.

Now it was my turn to scoff but no matter how much that angered me he was right. You can lead the horse to the lake but you can’t force it to drink from it, i bite back my tongue feeling a bitter taste up my throat.

- and if you still want me to work for you, you need to start talking - i said, sitting down beside him.

- now you’re ordering me around? You are not in charge here sweetie…

- you owe me that - i said, turning to him, using the right words would get me good points with him, i needed to gain his trust if i wanted to live a longer life, that was the only way to avoid Jack. Still it infuriated me how he never told me anything, i knew he didn’t had to but the least he could do is tell me about his plans at the station.

I knew exactly were i stood in here, not above him, not beside him and not even under him like his dogs. I was disposable, the last thing I wanted was to die here of all places. I knew for a fact that fallowing the rules would get you the the best chance. I hated to admit that but that was the only way.

- you said you would tell me everything after i did my work tonight - i said - then do it. Why were you at the station that day? Why did you almost killed the director?

He sighted almost rolling his eyes, taking a sip of his hard liquor before looking at me with bored eyes.

- i had a deal with you’re director - he said, staring at the cup on his hand as he moved around over his thigh - you’re smart enough to know it by know, what would i possibly want with the police?

It had passed my mind before that the director wasn’t exactly the good guy to begin with, Yoongis insinuations seemed to set fire to that old thought of mine and I could almost feel the dots connecting to each other - so the police was working with them this whole time, they were hiding Agust D tracks every time and making it impossible to get him. But why?

Namjoon has been fallowing a ghost his whole life in hopes of making justice possible, they had been playing with him just like they did to me.

It made me sick to even think about it.

But most importantly I could only wonder what would the police needed with Yoongi or what he used against them to get them to hide his tracks this whole time?

- I’m sure you know now… - he chuckled, knowingly - you’re friend was getting too close, i came to talk to him and he decided to call out our agreement. He was confident that Namjoon guy would get me eventually, so i had to make sure I made them aware of who they were dealing with.

- so that was a massage… - i murmured, more to myself staring at the floor.

- yeah, not that i needed to do much - he chuckled, taking the cigarette from my hand yes staring back at me with smirk laying over his red lips - you just happened to be there right on time, every single time i needed.

- what?

- in so little time you manage to get inside Paradise, obviously thanks to Scarlet then you proceeded to offer yourself to me unknowingly and ruined their opportunity to get me - he said, eyes shining brighter with delight.

Looking so proud of my mistakes, it didnt help to ease the way my insides were turning and turning around at his words. Making more and more obvious how my intervention helped only him, the one i was so confident i would put behind bars.

- i had reasons for it…

The most poor and stupid excuse left my lips, I couldn’t look at his face anymore to embarrassed to face him and the truth. I made a terrible mistake by thinking I could face him head on and win.

- you did… but what now? - he taunted - what do you have? Nothing… you’ve been nothing but a puppet this entire time, my puppet.

He made it clear from the beginning how it would end up for me if I continued with that investigation on him, i was honestly surprised at how he left me leave the first moment we’ve meet and yet i decided to ignore all the warnings he was “kind” enough to give me. I pondered if he was truly warning me or if it all wasn’t just an act to get me exactly where he wanted me to be.

He told me he would bring me to hell if i kept digging for him and here i was now, it felt different having to hear him say all that I’ve been thinking about ever since we meet.

But I was too deep into the darkness that surrounded him, there was no way to live in this world without getting your hands dirty. I was aware of that. It was all my fault.

For a second i felt stupid at how well he played me without me even realizing, feeling stupid for being so weak and giving in more and more. But now? I didn’t felt bed for destroying the operation and letting Yoongi escape, i made up my mind in that car as we came back deciding to rather then running from the fire, i would burn and dance with it. He wasn’t wrong when he looked into my eyes and showed me my own sins, but the more i stared at the fire in his eyes the more i felt deeply attracted to the darkness surrounding him.

To survive.

To feed my own greed. Truly… a puppet.

-I could still end you here right now… - I gripped his neck.

I was serious, I could feel my blood boiling under my skin. My pride was hurt, my heart was in pieces and all he did was stare at me with a sly grin on his face. He chuckled gripping my hands around his neck even tighter, his eyes burning into mine.

- do it… - he dared - but we both know you won’t.

he wasted no time proving how much stronger he was then me, pulling my hands away from his neck. With one hand he gripped the back of my neck, pulling me closer.

- tell me why you won’t kill me… you had many chances… - he said, a whisper. He’s breath hitting my lips.

- don’t play as if you didn’t know why…

- no, you don’t play coy with me… come on now, be a good girl for me and use your words.

His lips lifted into a smirk, he leaned forward face centimeters away from mine. Feeling his breath over my own lips a shiver runs down my whole body, the smell of whiskey was intoxicating making me crave more of him.

- say it… y/n.

I swallowed hard before thinking about it one last time. I knew this was one way and no turning back, but Yoongi was my best shot at surviving now. Even more he wanted me to be honest with him and myself.

- Don’t lie to me… - he smile was completely sickening, eyes darker then ever - it’s not that hard.

- i want…

- yes, what do you want? - he leaned more into me, hands reaching behind me to cage me under his body.

And to feed my desires for him.

- you…

He stopped immediately, eyes searching for mine and in that split second while i stared into his sharp eyes i saw his facet break, just a bit but enough for me to notice - surprise. He truly didn’t expect me to say that, one would even think that hearing that would be so fulfilling to ones ego, but him? It was as if he never heard it before. I didn’t know anything could get a reaction from him but i knew in that moment, despite everything else he secretly wished to be desired too. Even though he said he knew.

So i took my chance and braced the fire that would come with it.

Closing my arms around his neck i pushed him down, sitting over his lap with one leg on each side of his hips.

- i want you, Agust d - i said over his lips - in every way possible.

Looking down in his eyes seeing how he no longer had any trace of surprise in them but a serious look, hands sliding up my hips to my bear back holding my arms to slid away from his neck.

My heart begin to beat faster, blood running cold on my body. Shit.

I could see it in his eyes that he wanted, so what was holding him back in that moment?

- are you sure? - he simply asked, not looking me in the eyes but at our hands - do you have any idea what that choice comes with?

- does it matter to you? - i bit into my lower lip, i felt so confused in that moment. The warmth that surrounded us was disintegrating slowly, i helplessly wanted to hold on into that warmth.

His unphased expression was making me more and more anxious, one moment i was burning under his gaze and now completely frozen and lost. Swallowing all of my pride and embracing myself, i wished to be right about this.

- it makes me…. Yours - in that small second i looked into his eyes again i saw the surprised in them, bearly noticeable but it was there for a second.

- and you’re sure you can take what comes with that? - he mutter over my lips.

- i don’t know but i don’t wanna leave you…

I can’t leave my only chance to survive now.

- you’re life will be mine… completely… - he whispered above my lips.

- we’ll go down together then.

I didn’t wanted to lose any more seconds when i pushed my lips over his, feeling his smirk as i bite into his botttom lip. Catching his eyes briefly as i did so, he was quick to press his short nails on my exposed back scratching the skin down stoping at my hips. I moaned on his mouth kissing him hungrily.

He let out a soft groan as i slide my hands down his waist inside his shirt slowly tracing his ribs, the friction was enough to make us both lose our minds, i could tell he was holding back from letting out a moan as i grinded against his hips, my own body was becoming needy, craving more and more.

- Mmngh..You feel so good… - He whispered between ragged breathes and I felt my thoughts growing more and more blank, the only thing on my mind right now was him.

I grind against his hips again, feeling his warmth through the fabrics separating us, his breath hitches when i grind against him again, i hold his chin up taking in his lustful gaze, his grip on my hips tightened and i could almost feel how blissful he was becoming.

He gives me a devious smirk and gently ran his fingers along your spine as he whispered in my ear:

- You truly are a skilled rider, you feel so good on top of me.

The doors for the office burst open.

- you have to go to Busan - said Jack in a rushed tone.

Yoongi leaned away from me, hands still dancing over my naked back. I stared at him as he nodded to Jacks direction who soon left the room.

- i have to go - he said to me.

I nodded resting my forehead over his, lips brushing against each other as the heat slowly drifted away from our bodies.

- now, you behave while I’m gone.

His hands slipped down my back to rest over my hips pulling me out of his lap. After that o was quick to make my way out of his office but no before he called out my name.

- the room in front of mine - he said - that’s your room, some of your stuff is there already.

- okay, thanks.

With that i left completely.

From what i could tell, how he suddenly changed in seconds and jacks rushed and slightly worried eyes, something big must’ve happen that needed him to be there in person. I over heard from Namjoon once at the station, that his mafia had rooted connections in Busan as they were investigating and I wonder if Namjoon manage to take action on his secret plan as he told me once.

If he did Yoongi might be in trouble, but I can’t tell. Both of them are unpredictable when it comes to getting what they want.

[…]

It’s been two days since Yoongi left to Busan, no one told me anything about him or when was he even going to come back.

Anytime I would worry about him my mind would remind me of who I was thinking about, he certainly was not someone who would let anything happen to him. He made it clear who he was and what he was capable of. So I worry nothing about him.

Still it felt weird to be here without him, it was his house and I was used to have his presence around. Hands even been that long and I was so deep in a nest of snakes.

I had shaken hands with the devil before now it was time to dance with him, the only thing that kept wondering with worry in my mind was how no one would tell me anything.

The few maids in the house wouldn’t even say a word to me, the guards around the mansion acted like I was invisible.

I had no one here.

It felt just like I was back at the station once again, no one would tell me anything because I wasn’t a detective yet. Just a mere office worker for them, I couldn’t tell anything to Namjoon because he wouldn’t understand.

He grew up in a completely different world then mine, he didn’t know how hard it was to try to grow your career in a police station especially when you are a woman, no matter how good I was or my scores in the academy they still viewed me as weak and fragile.

I thought that if I worked harder they would notice me, but that only got me more work and less acknowledgement.

My view for them has changed also, now that I knew how corrupted they are. They were nothing but mere trash to me. Walking garbage.

My days here were the same, day after day ever since Yoongi left I was completely alone in this mansion. The only exception being the presence of the house keeper and the very few employees that helped her.

Another two days had went by without any news from Yoongi, I don’t know if I should’ve been grateful for that or worried.

Tha was until I heard a loud noise from downstairs, I was goin to bed since it was half past ten already but the noise caught me off guard. I quickly turned to fallow it and see what was that about.

The moment I saw his face I couldn’t hold myself anymore, first thing I notice I was rushing towards him. No second thoughts in my head as I closed my arms around Yoongis neck. For a while he didn’t move, I could feel how his body was stiff under my arms.

- what are you doing? - he said. His words were like a bucket of cold water.

Of course it would be like this, what was I even thinking in that moment. Is not like I missed him.

- I’m just checking if you got any holes in you… - I pull away, staring up at his eyes.

- you think I’d be that careless? - he chuckled - it was all playful banter…

He didn’t seem one bit concerned or stressed, almost as if he went to a trip and not to fix a problem. He came back in a complete different mood then he left. Was i wrong then? Did Namjoon not went with his plan for Busan?

- not that I care about what you do… but next time send a message?

- I’ll remember that for the next time… - he says as he walks up the stairs, without looking back.

I scoffed, of course. Criminals and their cold blooded hearts, i only grew more suspicious. Exactly what happened in Busan?

I decide to fallow him up stairs, not really sure why. It felt so natural, waiting for him to come home and being in his presence after not seeing him for days.

I enter his office after him, watching as he lights a cigarette and sits down behind his desk.

- You seem off… more then usual… - I cross my arms over my chest as I observe him.

For some there wouldn’t be a way to see it, but he was different tonight. I could see it by how he used his left hand to light his cigarette, he never did that and he kept avoiding having to use his right hand. He didn’t meet my eyes ever since he came back, he’d always stare at me so deep as if sweeping inside my soul.

It was odd how he looked serious now, not intense serious but cold, so cold.

He paused for a second, looking around before he glance at me with irritation clear in his eyes.

- Does it concern you ? - He replied, his voice low and sharp.

He took a long drag from his cigar, the smoke spilling past his lips in a steady stream.

- I was busy with work - He muttered simply, the corner of his lips quirking up into an almost mocking smirk.

-it was just an observation…- I say, at that point I knew he wasn’t going to tell me anything and I couldn’t blame him. If I was him, I wouldn’t either.

He let out a dry laugh, shaking his head slightly. “Is that so ?” He mused, his eyes boring into you.

- How observant of you - he sneered, his gaze now locked on mine. - as always…

He visibly tensed, his hand clenching around his cigar for a moment, his eyes narrowing as he studied you carefully. He let out a huff, his expression still stoic, but his eyes almost seemed to soften slightly.

- i have a meeting tomorrow… - He finally says - you’ll accompany me so go to bed, is late already.

Part of me wanted to stay, to talk to him but I knew better. Besides how tense and angry he was in that moment he still manage a bit of softness to tell me to go rest it was tiny, but it was there and that weighted so much more to me then I ever thought it was possible.

With no further do, i turn to leave his office but he pulls me back. Fingers circling around my wrist.

I look back at him surprised for a second, that surely was unusual.

- don’t leave yet…- he says, looking away from me.

- do you need to tell me something more? - I questioned, crossing my arms.

- don’t… - he mumbled, frowning as he stared at the desk in front of him - don’t sleep on your room tonight.

I could almost feel the thumping of my heart in my chest the moment he said those words, as if on cue my entire body burns with excitement but I try to hold back from the possibility.

- and were should I sleep? - I mumbled, my voice almost a whisper.

- with me.

I gasped the moment he pulls me closer by the waist, pressing our bodies together as his hands slide down my back at my hips.

- you should sleep with me tonight…

I stared into his eyes looking for something, anything that could tell me what was going inside his mind. He’s been hot and cold ever since he came back from Busan, keeping secrets and acting as if nothing happened even though I couldn’t tell that there was more to it then he was letting me know. Now as i stood so close to him, feeling the warmth of his skin and his heart beat through his chest. How his eyes seemed to falter ever so slightly, i knew it.

Something did happen.

But neither he could tell how he felt.

[…]

I couldn’t tell if I had actually slept, it felt as if I only blinked my eyes and when I open it was morning already.

Going to bed with him last night felt so odd and i could tell it was for him too, because we weren’t enveloped by the blinding desire or our needs. It was more intimate then we’ve been to each other, we both spent a night together only by each other’s arms and suddenly it didn’t felt like i was in bed with Agust d, that was Yoongi. When i woke up he was already up.

This time I had breakfast with Yoongi and seeing him across from the table as the light reflected on his face was a sight for sore eyes, how the sun iluminated every line of his face making him look much softer even with the scar over his eye. He looked so domestic in that moment that I almost forgot I was looking at a criminal. Almost.

Looks can surely be deceiving - i thought as i sipped my coffee, watching him from across the table.

We haven’t spoken a word to each other since last night, none of us tried to make small conversation. We just kept going as if everything was normal. It felt unreal and yet so comforting, it still amazed me how natural we could act together at times like this at this point I didn’t know if he was the insane person or me.

Oddly enough we did everything together, from breakfast to picking each other’s clothes for today, to lunch and eventually getting ready in his room for the meeting.

I was confused, it was writing all over my face and anyone could tell. Even he could as we got ready in his bathroom, I couldn’t stop stealing glances at him as i did my make up.

- that’s rude… - he said as he fixed his sleeves - you’re staring.

- that’s audacious coming from you - put the lipstick own.

We didn’t said anything after that but I couldn’t forget how he laughed at that, for the first time it was a genuine laugh.

As i found myself beside him on his car, Hoseok - as he called jack when we got in the car - drove us to our destination and I couldn’t understand how he wouldn’t just tell me what this all was about, even after making me come all the way with him.

What was this meeting about? Why he needed me there?

- I have something for you…- he said for the first time since we left the house.

- yes? - I turned to look at him.

He takes my hand, palm facing up before placing a silver collar with a butterfly on it.

- I saw you wearing one like this when I first meet you… - he says as if it was nothing.

I looked at him in utter shock, i was aware that he was perceptive of everything around him I just never knew I was included in that perception as well. He had notice such small detail about me from so long ago, I couldn’t hide my surprise - more like utter shock.

- don’t think too much of it… you can wear it or throw it away - he says, his tone was nonchalant, but i could still see his lingering gaze on the necklace every now and then.

- I never thought you were one to give gifts…

- humph… i told you not to think much of it - he looks over the window as i stare at him with a grin.

- my bad… help me put it on? - i say leaning closer to his side, watching as he looks at me suspiciously.

His eyes lock into mine sharply, almost like a cat eyeing a mouse before he scoffed and leaned closer to me with a smirk on his lips. He takes the necklace from my hand, and turn my back for him holding my hair up as he places the jewelry around my neck. For a split moment his cold finges slowly brush against my neck making me almost shrink at the sudden touch. I could hear his south breathing behind me, his breath hitting the back of my back exposed by the dress i wore. Once i could tell the necklace was closed around my neck i let go my hair, but before i could move away he pulls on my arm making me stop on my tracks.

- what? - i say in almost a whisper, feeling my cheeks heat up for letting him know how he had affected me in that moment.

- don’t move… - he says behind me, his breathing hitting my shoulder as he leans even closer.

I could feel my face heating up and body shivering, suddenly feeling like a tiger was about to jump over me from behind. He pulls my hair to the side, his touch almost soothing and like a predator hunting its pray he was the best at distracting before attacking.

I gasped when he suddenly grips my neck pushing his body against mine as he circles his right arm around my waist.

- you do have a beautiful neck… - he whispers in my ear - you know what i like the most about you, y/n?

- no… - i swallowed hard, knowing him this could either end really good or bad.

- your strength… - he grips my neck tighter, forcing me to look only ahead but still not enough to cut my air, just enough to apply the needed pressure to keep me in his claws. - you almost look weak but when i push the right buttons you never hesitate to pull the trigger, such an interesting puppet you are y/n. I want you beside me.

- i thought i already was… you trying to make it seem I’m choosing to work for you just to mess with me - i grip his writs pulling his hand off my neck - i was always a pawn on your games, i will stay beside you but not like the others.

- good… - he gives me small smile letting go of me- I’d hate to get bored of you so soon.

I couldn’t decipher him at all. He only acted however he saw fit in any situation, I couldn’t understand him at all but one thing i knew - he did know which buttons to push to make me go mad in both good and bad ways.

The car son comes to a stop in front of a luxury building, the name Golden Star shined bright in cursive words on top of it. A few sports cars were parked in front of it and i watched as a men walks out of a Ferrari in a tuxedo with a woman wearing a bright silver dress, completely exuding luxury head to toe. Suddenly i felt a bit self conscious of picking my doctor martins as shoes with the dress i wore, it never bothered me before in Paradise because people there weren’t always dressed so sophisticated like that but now that i look at it. I should’ve have put more effort into it.

Yoongi takes my hand placing around his arm as he guides me inside the building, the place was something I’ve only ever saw in movies. As we walk past the entrance we stop at the entering hall, in the middle of two big stairs was a red velvet curtain leading to entry of the cassino. I only ever heard about this place on the news, the hotel and cassino Golden Star. Even the air here felt more rich than outside.

- master Yoongi - a men dressed in a tuxedo approaches us, his name tag read Alfred. - mister Wuhan hasn’t arrived yet but he left the room ready for you in advance, but if you wish to entertain yourself at the cassino till his arrival I’ll guide you there.

- want to see the cassino? - Yoongi suddenly whispered to me.

- what? - i looked at him surprised, i didn’t expect he would take that into consideration and mostly i didn’t understand why he would.

- it might take some time… won’t you indulge into some fun before the real meeting starts? - he grins, glint shining in his eyes mischievously.

- honestly… it doesn’t catch my interest.

It truly didn’t, games in cassino were never something I found interest in partaking. If ever, i might felt curious now that they were so close to my reach but i was more inclined into watching it seeing how it worked rather than playing.

- we’ll go straight to the room - he says to Alfred.

- Very well master - Alfred smiles softly - this way, please.

We fallow Alfred up the long stairs, into a long corridor till we stop at a double black door. The men uses a black card on the digital lock, i notice the three golden letters on it “VIP” in golden cursive. As the door opens were soon met with glass window wall ahead with golden curtains hanging from above on each corner. The floor and the walls where black but the floor had a marble effect with gold and gray, in the center of the room was a L couch in velvet black as well as a red glass coffee table in the center and a mini bar on the right with a tv above it on the wall.

The decoration wasn’t what surprised me but who was sitting there, all blissful and shirt half opened.

- oh there you are… Agust d and miss bodyguard… - Jimin looks at us over his lashes, taking a sip of a red drink on his right hand and having a hard time with the straw. Clearly he was already drunk.

- i thought you stoped with this…. - Yoongi says, walking over the opposite couch and sitting down already taking a cigarette and his lighter to smoke.

- i did but… Wuhan offered a good deal so I couldn’t say no - Jimin mumbles, for a moment i try not to jump to conclusions but I couldn’t help but wonder what business he had here, especially with the men Yoongi was supposed to met.

- take a sit.. - Yoongi says to me, blowing the smoke into the air - have your fill…

He motions with his head towards the mini bar filled with all different types of alcohol bottles.

- I’m not one to drink actually - i cross my arms, taking a cigarette at sit at the corner of the couch.

- why? Can’t handle your alcohol? - he smirks, his tone full of sarcasm.

- no i just get tired from drinking, besides… as your pawn shouldn’t i stay sober? - i arch my eyebrow as i look at him.

- touché… - he blows the smoke into my direction.

- did you two fight? - Jimin leans closer to me - y/n! Since you’re here give me some attention, hum?

He blinked slowly as he stares at me, still leaning closer to my side. Although i doubt he was doing on purpose and not just falling at this point. It could be considered a crime how blissfully beautiful he looked now, perhaps the lingering innocence he managed to keep while still having a sexy appeal was what made him impossible to resist. The combo of always saying the right words as if he coated each one with honey could be added to the list of things that made him powerful, with no doubt i was sure he could have anyone he wanted with just a few words.

But i wasn’t like others, i could still see under that mask he wore, different then Yoongi i could read Jimin with ease because that was who he was, he never tried to hide his intentions and desires. Being like that was who he was, and being himself with the wrong people was what made him weak and easy to take advantage off. Knowing that I couldn’t just look at him as some sexy guy in front of me, i felt more… worried.

- i’ll give you some then…- i smiled softly, taking the glass from his hand i pick a bottle of water from the coffee table opening for him and putting a straw in it, i hold it up for him to drink.

At first he only stares at me with a pout on his lips before reluctantly drink the water, i hear a chuckle behind me and i look at Yoongi over my shoulder.

- you’re picking strays like that? - he teases.

- shut up… I’d do the same for you… - I mumble.

- you wouldn’t.

His assertion was final, it was truth. I would never do the same for him because he would never put himself into such situations, Yoongi didn’t need anyone to take care of him he was just that capable of living by himself. Knowing exactly every step to take to get where he wanted and never falling into the temptations of getting wasted as it would only take away his focus and control. Perhaps now I could actually get a little bit inside his mind after all, that thought brought a smile to my face for some reason.

I spend the next moments taking care of Jimin, making sure he eat an apple from the fruit plate in the middle of the coffee table that at first I thought was fake, and making sure he drinks water until he’s at least bit sober.

Jimin was a baby when drunk, I took those mental notes as he nuzzled on my neck and pouted the entire time.

If it wasn’t for the moment someone called him over he would probably still be on my lap like a puppy.

- Thank you miss body guard… thanks to you I can walk down the stairs without breaking a bone - he smiled at me before walking out the privet room.

I chuckled to myself as I saw him leaving.

- you’re quite the sweetheart adopting strays… - yoongi mumble.

- you seem jealous? - I retorted.

- me? Of that? - he scoffed, while pouring another glass of whiskey for himself.

He looked at me for a moment wordlessly, his gaze boring into mine. He slides closer to my side, until i almost feel his body heat against mine.

- Maybe you’re just trying to get a reaction out of me, - he added, voice lowering to a deep murmur as he holds his eyes still firmly on mine.

- And if I want a reaction, which do I get? - I stare back at his eyes firmly.

A hint of a smirk tugged at the corners of his mouth, and he took another drag from his cigar, a plume of smoke billowing around his face.

-Maybe you should find out, -he replied, his voice lowering to a deep murmur. He was leaning so close now I could feel the heat from his body, the scent of cigar smoke filling my lungs and the whiskey on his breath.

He let the moment drag on, his eyes never leaving mine. After a few moments of silence, he reached out, his fingers brushing against my cheek as he holds my chin to face him.

- You’re playing a dangerous game, - he murmured, almost to himself.

- you’ve been sitting here watching, playing fool but I want you… - I stare back at him.

A low growl escaped his lips and in one swift move, he had me backed up against the couch, his body pressed close to mine, hands on each side of my head, trapping me under him.

- You’re playing with fire…. - he whispered against my ear, his voice a low murmur. - we shouldn’t do this game now… I’m working here.

I froze for moment, his eyes meeting mine with a longing and fire I never seen before. I could feel my body heat rise, my chest moving up and down as I breathed and the loud thump of my own heart beat in my ears.

- You don’t know what you’re asking for, - he said quietly, his voice almost hoarse. - teasing me like this before my meeting….

- Why? Afraid someone might walk in? - I mumbled, breathing heavily as I looked from his eyes to his lips.

I could see how he tensed slightly, his eyes darting to the door.

- I’m not afraid of anything, - he snapped, his voice a little gruff. He leaned in closer to my face, his gaze intense. - But if someone were to walk in, what would they see? How much… would be off by then?

He slides his hand under the skirt of the dress, tracing up my thigh and pulling over his hip.

His hand clenched around my thigh, the tension between you both growing.

- You want to do this here? - He asked quietly, his voice gruff. He leaned in even closer, his breath hot against the skin of my neck.

- You set my body on fire… is only fair you take care of it.

- I might just do something we’ll both regret. - he murmured, his voice low and rough.

- I never thought you’d be one to restrain yourself?

A smirk tugged at the corner of his lip, and let out a mocking little huff.

- You really think you can tease me, don’t you? - He asked, his voice lowering to a dangerous murmur.

Before i could respond, he suddenly pressed his body against me, his lips claiming mine in a harsh, intense kiss.

- Mmmh… - I circle my arms around his neck, pulling him even closer.

His lips met with mine hungrily, body pressing against mine and hands gripping my thighs in bruising grip. He didn’t hold back, making me ache even more for his touch, giving in to the desire i had been holding back for so long. One of his hands gripped my hip as the other slides over my side and chest, giving it a tight squeeze before sliding up my neck grabbing a fistful of my hair. I moan into his mouth, arching my back, he let out a low, guttural, possessive growl against your mouth.

He tilts my head to the side, with a pull on my hair trailing his lips down my neck, leaving rough kisses as he went. I was a mess under him as he continued to bite and suck on the sensitive skin, gripping his shoulders as I felt him leave a long lick over my pulse.

- Do you have any idea what you do to me?- He whispered against my skin, his voice rough and ragged sending shivers down my spine.

- Ahhh… I could think of… a few things… - I mumble breathlessly.

He thinks I can still speak right now?

He let out a mocking little huff, his breath hot against my neck.

- Oh really? - He asked, his lips hovering over your skin, his tongue darting out to taste you. - You seem confident, huh?

- shut up…

He lets out a dark laugh, his hand tightening in your hair.

- Is that what you want? - he presses another harsh nip at my neck. - For me to shut up?

He tugged on my hair again, pulling my head back further, exposing more of my neck completely to himself. His lips trail wet kisses along my skin, nibbling gently on my collarbones.

He lets go of my hair, hand trailing down the curve of my body to my hip, squeezing the flesh in a tight grip.

I could feel his smirk against my skin, his fingers gripping into my hip tighter as he pushed his body even more against mine, pressing his hips into mine.

- Don’t tell me you’re getting shy on me all of a sudden? - he murmured, his tone almost mocking.

- Shut up… you know what I want…

- I know what you want - he murmured, his voice low and rough. He leaned in, his lips ghosting against my earlobe so softly I could feel my body giving in all restraints - But I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you want.

I couldn’t bring myself to say it, all the things I wanted him to do to me in that moment. All the lewd things that clouded my mind and the ways I wanted him to take me. For a split second I was back at reality, we shouldn’t be doing this now. Anyone could enter the room, but heaving him so close after heaving a taste was not helping my mind make a single right thought.

So I didn’t say anything and just pulled him into a fervently kiss.

He groans against my lips, almost caught of guard as i pull him but quickly, his hand is gripping my hip even tighter as he regains controls once more. His body is pressed even more into mine, his other hand grabbing a fistful of my hair, as his lips move against mine hungrily, desperately as if he couldn’t get enough of it and so couldn’t I.

His tongue delves into my mouth, tasting, dominating the kiss in a brutal sort of way. He was restless, pushing and pressing his body flush against mine, his arms wrapped around your waist as he grinds against my core pulling my leg over his hip.

I groan into his mouth, pulling on his hair making him moan into the kiss, his hand yanking on your hair slightly as I bite his bottom lip. He was so demanding and fierce, It turned me on even more, and i could feel the fire inside me burning hotter with each second. I needed him desperately.

He pulls away from the kiss, nipping at my lip, and moves back to kiss along the side of my neck again, this time with a little more teeth, as if to leave his own mark on me.

- You’re driving me crazy… - he murmurs against your throat, his voice rough.

He lets out another low chuckle, as he continues to kiss along your neck, his teeth grazing the skin, leaving behind little marks as his hands roam all of my body.

I stare up at his eyes, holding him closer. I wanted to stay in that moment forever but before I could even open my lips to say anything, the sound of a knock on the door stopped us.

He froze, his eyes snapping towards the door, his expression dark. He was breathing heavily, holding me even tighter, obviously angry to be interrupted at this moment.

- He’s here… - Jack voice says from the other side of the door.

The men Yoongi was supposed to meet arrived. What a timing.

Once he registered that he was quick to let go of me, sitting upright while he fixed his shirt.

Now it was time for business, for Agust d to show up.

- I’m gonna fix myself in the bathroom… - I say as I get up.

- yeah… don’t take too long though - he mumbles already taking another cigar from his pocket.

Once I exit the room I release a breathe I didn’t even knew I was holding, my body still tingled from the after effects of his touches and I couldn’t think of anything else but us.

I no longer felt ashamed from wanting more, for the first time I’ve been with Yoongi I only wanted more of him. I didn’t had to worry about people finding out at work because I no longer belonged to that life.

As I walk to the ladies room, I look back at the corridor seeing as a men with white hair walks into the room Yoongi was. He had two bodyguards with him and Jimin by his side, clinching his arm like an intimate friend. So that’s what he does - I thought.

I didn’t wanted to go back now, so I took my time in the bathroom. Splashing some cold water on my hands so i can wet my neck, trying my best to keep my body in control.

For some reason I had a bad feeling about this meeting. I couldn’t put my mind into what it was, but something felt odd. I felt like I saw that men with the white hair before, was it something at the station about him, perhaps, but I couldn’t put my mind to it.

With one last look at the mirror I exit the bathroom, walking back to the VIP room. From afar I notice the two body guards weren’t by the door anymore, making me stop immediately at my tracks. This didn’t seem right, as I reach for the door handle I hear a groan from behind the door and my heart jumps in my chest - Yoongi!

I gasped as a hand grabs me from behind pressing a cloth over my mouth and nose, the strong smell of chemicals immediately hits me making my nose burn. I try my hardest to pull away but the men holds me tightly against a wall, my mind was beginning to feel hazy and I knew what would happen then.

I was getting kidnapped.

What a damn timing.

[…]

It felt like I was hit by a car, my head was so heavy it took my longer to open my eyes then to wake up. I regretted immediately after once a sharp pain hit through my head, when I tried to move I felt my wrists and feet tied to the chair.

All the sounds around me were distant muffled voices, my head was spinning and I couldn’t speak.

- oi! Wake up doll…

- oh… gods… you guys are ugly - i groaned, looking up at the two men.

I’m so fucked now, how did i even got in this situation?

- ahh damn you Agust D!

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Authors note: Call me the queen of cliff hanger endings because I’m about to push you all, jokes aside i bet you all thought i left right? And i did… for some time, but I’m back to finish this up for you all. Also sorry for any errors and mistakes. You better give this chapter a heart! Love you all and happy new year!

Tag list; @catlove83 @passionandsuga @crystallizedtime @cuntessaiii @rosquilleta @fatmaortiz @wobblewobble822 @mygdday @coralmusicblaze @whipwhoops @glosstwn @i-have-no-life-charlie @kooslilhoe @tarahardcore @manuosorio @thvlover @missroro @btspurplesky @i-am-invisible-for-you @celticcountrygal @fairywriter-oracle @m4gg13-g @unadulteratedlyunique @anaspectoflife @younhakim29 @nochookiee @strxwbloody @yoongislatinagff @pandafuriosa60 @kimsonlyluv @sukonsukuna @amariemoore @starrlo0ver @effielumiere @lovelgirl22 @baechugff @poochieshooky @seonghwaexile @xyahrinx

[cherri3berri3s]

When Today Comes ┃Ticci toby x Reader

Warning: possible relationship codependency, mentioned cannibalism + descriptive homicide

An officially unofficial part ii to "I Got Law" that could be read + interpreted separately. The synopsis is same as follows ↓

Synopsis: You're awakened one morning to see your boyfriend shaken with doubt. What's on his mind? (Toby's Perspective)

Word Count: 1.4k + words

Part I → "I Got Law"

And the morning was evil,

Doing all it could to steal her from me.

Killing the clock with much suppression as I'd felt when I looked at her face. The only thing between me and godliness was the sound of love dripping from her sorrowed voice. Not making me feel as clean as I'd hoped for the events to come.

How do you do this type of thing anyway? Turning yourself in;

Do you announce, 'Yeah, I murdered someone' with pride before ultimately waiting to get picked up by the speedy fuckers in robust cop cars.

Should I walk there myself? Take the long route?

It's not like I could hold back the inevitable any longer, it's already decided that I should go.

"Vogel," I prepared, "Can I get one more kiss before I go?"

"If I do, will you come back." She said dryly, accepting all that's become of the situation.

"Vogelchen," I uttered, softness meeting my voice and eyes, "Of course I'm not coming back. I'll probably be dead by tomorrow."

And for every part of me to think that felt so true. I'd been at this too long that death came to be second nature. Enjoyed by none but me each time, and all stares pointed back to me. 

I see them as they see me; the ones I've killed. Difference is, I'm the one with the audience.

I like the feeling as much as I hate it. It's almost as if I'm being judged for something I enjoy. Yet, I had the power to defy all the looks that wanted me as dead as them. I'd relish in that power all year if I could. And now I'm prepared to turn myself in, but between me and them, it's far from experiencing feelings of remorse.

For each time a victim cried I felt bolder. And each time they fought back, I fought back harder till their blood spilled. It was a job that I liked, and an unsubstantiated urge I'd love to fill. Undoubtedly, I guess I loved it as long as it meant it didn't reach her. Now I see I'd failed all too embarrassingly at preventing it. 

Easing into that car seat, I felt her presence. Feeding into my drive to speed off as I know I should've. All before my body told me not to, and before he tells me not to. 

Before I choose not to do it.

I’d remembered instead, when we first met. As our relationship had begun.

 I was a sleazy pawn to the operator. I would do all that he asked of me. And all that he asked of me was fine, even if it wasn’t as righteous as it felt.

“Y’know, I’ve definitely seen you somewhere.”

 “Where?“ 

“Some magazine or something at the store.“ She grinned. Laying on my lap tenderly as the breeze wafted past us, less gentle than the autumn sun.

Never mind my matter-of-fact tone when I answered, unfazed and sounding nonchalant in each reply. She looked up at me all the same. Those eyes killing sores rested within mine.

“I don’t model,”

“And if you did, that’s exactly where I’d find you.” The damp grass lazed beneath us. Little bugs crawling past my shoe in a fit of determination, racing to beat the setting sky.

“Here, lemme see-“ she said, grabbing my jaw to redirect her gaze into mine. Her eyes squinted and refocused as my hair had fallen past my shoulders. Relaxed as I looked down at her ever so closely. 

“Yeah… that’s a cover boy if I ever seen one”

“W-What about me screams cover boy?“

“You smile with your eyes,“

“Ew, I got crow's feet?”

“No,” she detest shockingly. Holding back a laugh as she props up just a bit “You never watched Tyra Banks? The ‘smize’ doesn’t ring any bells?”

“I barely had cable,” I said begrudgingly, shaking my head as I’d become amused with her peaked interest. “I watched p-public service Christian shows at best.”

“And never watched Tyra?!“

“I barely know who she is,” I smiled confusedly, lighthearted as I attempted to maintain seriousness. “My dad w-w-would force me to watch WWE if he thought I wasn’t being m-manly enough.”

“Boo,” she disagreed abruptly, holding out the ‘oo’ sound as she plopped back down on my lap.“You know more about Hulk Hogan and public service than the real important shit”

“Modeling’s important?”

“If I was blessed with your features, it most definitely would be.“ She claims. A chuckle escapes my throat and kisses the air, protest meeting my face as a result. Her eyes holding onto mine as I just couldn’t stop myself from laughing.

“I’m being serious,” she smiles, eyes widening to convince me otherwise. “I think you’re the hottest guy I know.” her hands raised in defense, standing by the words spewed from her lips.

“I think you’re crazy,” I say, my hands resting on her hips in content. Stroking lovingly as our eyes lay amongst one another the way they’ve always have.

“And you’re a train wreck,“ a stray hand reaches out to caress the edge of my face where my scar lies. Treating me far more delicately than I knew I deserved. Far more delicately than I knew I’d ever been. The open field we were in overcrowded my judgment, producing a warmth that embodied all I had been experiencing in the cool of that day.

 “Do you think that’d make me stop loving you?“ Her eyes wandered, searching for even a hint of how I felt given the secluded embrace of the moment.

“You should.”

– And now, foot pressed against the peddle, gripping the steering wheel as roughly as I was, I couldn’t find it in me to disagree.

I never told her about the reluctance I had felt when wanting to hold her, even though it resulted in a tight everlasting grip on her flesh. The pads of each of my fingers suckling into her skin. Nor did I admit to the readiness I felt for wanting to end her life; suspecting that she had found out about my beyond most dangerous endeavors.

For so long, I’d wanted to. I accepted coming to terms with what had to be done. What the whispers said was a job most notably left for me alone. What I suppose was his plan all along. 

I'd do anything the operator asked of me. The only moral code I’d bothered to stand by after life for me changed. I saw all I was willing to give up, making the fullest assumption that my mind was no longer my own. That I had to sacrifice to live.

It didn’t bother her witnessing that sacrifice firsthand. Blood trickling along the wooden slickness of the floor. Producing such a pretty sloshing sound, tickling the inside of my ears. My hands feverishly clasping on the meatiness of the person‘s neck below me. 

Each slam cascaded with a distinguished crack, the moment their head collided with the floor. Their face bloated, black and blue in contrast to the deep red seeping underneath.

I wasn’t ready to tell her it felt so damn good. Too good as I licked my fingers devilishly of the steaming hot liquid messily staining my hands. Eyes rolling with a moan indistinguishable from one of immense pleasure. 

Had I not blacked out into an ill-fitted rage, I would’ve remembered her being there.

She didn’t mind the object sight of cannibalism displayed before her. In fact, she was no fearful accomplice, helping me cover it all up until not even a blotch was left to see.

I wanted desperately for her to be next. To be the one I was indulging in; just as she would let me.

I sat awake understanding all it had meant for us. What I’ve done to a perfectly sane relationship as I wanted to keep it. I wanted her to ignore the signs, remaining blissfully ignorant to the extremities expressed by my sickness.

To want normalcy, and not me.

I drove closer to the precinct, hungering for a chance to go back. Pleading that, as once before, I’d misunderstood my own place. He needed me to rid myself of all distractions. That’s what she was- That’s what she is. 

She is.

I hadn’t seen it then, but I was back at her place shedding my skin, as today was finally here.

I've realized that I love writing for toby so goddamn much because I get to experiment with all his complexities. I just hate when it feels like there's a thousand times more shit I could add (or as if I'm not doing him enough justice).

You're free to reblog all you like!

© CHERRI3BERRI3S - ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE OR CLAIM MY WORK AS YOUR OWN

[yandere-daydreams]

so is the amputation thing like he likes to cut off your limbs and then go to town on the stumps? or use the amputated parts to stuff you or himself with?

tw - amateur amputation, unhealthy relationships, forced codependence, and controlling behavior.

in purely my own defense i think it's less of a physical 'jerking off on the bloody stumps' thing and more of a 'masturbating to the thought of you never be able to physically get away from him' thing. he's just got such condensed abandonment issues that, as soon as you two hit your first rough patch and the extent of his obsessiveness starts to show, the 'please don't leave me please don't leave me please don't leave me' mantra that's been playing in the back of his head since he met you shifts to something more along the lines of 'don't let them leave don't let them leave don't let them leave' and he,,, gets the urge to make it so you can't leave, whether that means severing the legs you would've used to run away from him or breaking the hand you'd slapped him with when he offered to pay his way out of your last argument. he'll usually panic and take you to shoko to get fixed up in a few hours, but the fact that there's no lasting damage doesn't mean he can't get hard every time he pictures you all cute and helpless, unable to walk or eat or breathe without his help, and it doesn't mean the next time he does something unforgivable (because there's always going to be a next time), he can't put off your visit to shoko for just a little longer, spend just a little more time bouncing his cute little fuckdoll on his cock despite the bitter tears rolling down your cheeks, the way your voice shakes as you whimper his name.

he's also be the type to want to have some part of you on some part of him at all times. it might be enough to carry a lock of your hair close to his heart early on, but as the regenerated limbs stack up and he's given more time to toy with the idea of more permeant changes, he might decide that a vial of your saliva is more romantic - or better yet, a ring made out a few of your finger bones. just pray you don't have the same blood type. he might find out about kidney transplants and get some ideas.

[craziertogether]

stancy & mileven

GOOD LORD THIS IS A LONG ONE. but i hope you guys enjoy it)

so i often think about stancy and mileven in the grand scheme of the show & fandom. if someone ships mileven it’s almost a guarantee that they will ship stancy too. i’m gonna be honest this usually tells me 1-2 major things about the person, you’re too young and have a very immature outlook on love OR you’re used to face value & toxic love/infatuation.

stancy is THE most perfect portrayal of the first “popular” / “bad boy” boyfriend a teenage girl most often gets. i say this from experience, like nancy i was a “good girl” that became infatuated with my first boyfriend, a trouble maker/womanizer but a good time. that is what stancy represents, a good time but nothing permanent or even endgame just the guy who makes her feel special. it kills me how much i relate to nancy but it also kills me more to think about how people are romanticizing stancy because of season 4. we just watched the rest of the show with our eyes closed huh? yes he was very sweet coming back to help clean up the movie theatre and IG the season 4 confession about his dreams with her were “cute”. but i’m sorry to say this like its not the most obvious thing ever but, you do NOT have to love someone because they love you. love is not enough to keep a relationship together. and unfortunate all steve has for her is that same high school idealistic view of nancy that made him fall for her. steve did not understand nancy, nor her goals her passions. that specific scene in s4 when jonathan listed off how hardworking and determined she was and how he couldn’t come between her and her goals. he showed what she REALLY needed, someone who understood her and knew that he couldn’t get in the way of that. steve and nancy are what people who don’t understand how mature relationships are. they’re not codependent (like steve + nancy). they’re not fully based around lust (like steve + nancy). they’re not based all on the goals of one person (like steve describing his insane dream of marriage and kids asap). (PS showing steve with like 10 other girls away from nancy and then bringing back his “i actually always wanted nancy all along in s4 was LAME and just a way to show the audience imo that those ships are also SUPERFICIAL AS HELL. the audience saw right through it, that nancy and jonathan were better for each other, it might’ve revived some stancy shippers to hear the “i love her still” about nancy. but guys COME ON. you’re telling me the GA somewhat saw through that fake revival of feelings but not through mileven and mike’s confession? i cannot today.) anyways i wanna say that if jancy not endgame, that’s insane first off, but second nancy can be alone and independent but to put her back with steve would be like the worst possible outcome. just like mileven.

as for mileven, it’s the same thing. as i stated before i was a mileven lover, but i was also 10/11 and i wasn’t aware that queer relationships could happen. if we take out the byler aspect of why mileven is doomed. we completely overlook the fact that they are the young version of stancy. the love at first sight lie, something that i know many girls can probably relate to, my elementary boyfriend seemed like my husband. i was conditioned to think heteronormative thoughts, that i had to absolutely marry a man and i had to be someone’s perfect wife. that’s why mileven fans think it’s the perfect outcome for mileven wedding and naming kids after the members of the group that may die. it’s not just childish but it comes from a lack of understanding complex relationships and from the conditioning of staying in a toxic relationship. mileven shows how empty and unreliable both mike and el are for each other, outside of mike being unable to say “i love you” to el, mike can’t stop idolizing her for ONE sole part of her identity (ahem steve + nancy w/ her being the good girl that’s a virgin) & el can’t stop idolizing mike for her idea of love (ahem nancy to steve when she grew up seeing her parents, thinking she can stay with him even after she felt her connection to jonathan and choosing to be with him because it was comfortable and it was easy, it’s what was expected of her by steve’s friends). both mileven and stancy represent what it means to be confined to heteronormative and social norms, they prevent you from becoming who you’re meant to be/ be with.

it’s crazy to me too because we see how many people LOVE nancy with a gun and think she literally is so badass and showed off incredible skill throughout the seasons and yet fail to see that the MAJORITY of those scenes are with jonathan?? (like will and mike they bring out the absolute best in the other). they know the other better than anyone else, even when they fight, they fight and it’s real, it’s raw. they fight through honesty and they fight because they love the other and they KNOW that they can take it. with jonathan calling out nancy in season 3, we see how he's calling her out for being immature for not being able to see that he is poor and he struggles and he needed that job, she fought with him bc it felt like he was coming from a place of ignorance and not addressing her mistreatment. they’re both incredibly honest even if it hurts the other one. versus her fight with steve, she can’t even honestly say the words “i love you”, so instead she stays silent. (HMM I WONDER WHO THAT SOUNDS LIKE…. mike queeler). but also when jancy is together they’re TOGETHER. they have heart to hearts, strong ones. they have MATCHING SCARS GUYS. even thousands of miles apart, they describe the other like the light of their life, they call out the TRAITS that make the other so wonderful (unlike steve who literally js thinks of nancy as his first love and who’s pretty). jonathon believed nancy and goes on a literal psychotic bender to find murray and get justice for barb, versus steve who remind me again, says they should try to be “normal” and party? yeah sounds a lot like another person trying to be normal. direct parallels blow me away btw, the GA has to be choosing to act blind on purpose. but yeah, let’s switch to mileven then byler. every major fight between mileven has been because mike lied or felt lied to. he felt lied to by el when she said that will was alive, he lies to her in s3 about his grandma and acts like he can’t completely understand her species (queer coding to the MAX) and in season 4 hes once again lying to her and SHE is also lying to him. dare i say, they’re not fighting with the OTHER, they’re fighting to keep their facade up.

and now let’s look at byler (my beloved)!!! 1) the first relationship established in the show is byler, like it or not, that moment of intimacy “it was a 7”, soulmate behavior. 2) complete and TOTAL trust from both of them. it’s interesting that will only tries to tell two people in the show that hes still alive. joyce his MOTHER, and MIKE with his walkie talkie. not jonathan who has a radio system? not dustin? not lucas? not hopper? the police? no. he chooses his mom and mike, interesting. 3) he hides his struggles from his friends and his family, everyone treats him like hes weak like hes different but not mike? why not mike? i mean he spends the most time with mike and yet, you’re telling me mike never once maybe slipped over his words and said something insensitive, no instead he “makes him feel better for being different”. 4) now onto the actual fights, bc this is really long. when will and mike fight, it’s raw and real, it hurts the audience to see will hurting because he’s been through so much trauma, and yet, mike hurts him anyways, but will CANNOT stay away. one moment i think we forget to mention is in s2, when mike gets angry about max, mike takes a jab at will. “did you agree to this?” “you should’ve told ME first.” will literally looks SO defeated & hurt. why mike? why does will need to tell you? you’re the leader? you own will? no. it’s bc will wasn’t honest to him, will didn’t come to mike about a big decision. also yeah a little gay bc why are you mad about a girl. but okay. and the season 3, yes the rain fight is back. i won’t dissect it any more but i will say, mike’s cruelness towards will was so unwarranted. but will’s willingness to say what no one else was willing to was yet another example of how deep their relationship is. calling mike out for being a shit friend, that’s will being what mike asked of him (season 2 halloween & honesty), and yet mike’s become too afraid of revealing his own feelings, but he’s still somewhat honest to will. he’s projecting his feelings to will, he’s TELLING ON HIMSELF here. and yes we know he regrets it runs back. but the fight is what matters it’s them still being real and honest to the other even if they don’t realize it just yet. season 4 is just another extension of the season 3 fight, but this time, they’re both projecting/accusing and yet insanely they’re both still being honest. will’s accusing mike of yet again abandoning him while deflecting his fault for not calling and mike’s projecting his homosexual thoughts into will, and yet again hes still being fully transparent to will, he calls out will’s bad behavior & WILL’S lack of effort too. all of this to say, we can see as the audience, queer or not, it’s practically crystal clear that stancy & mileven are parallels and only exist to show the audience immature, unreal love. while byler & jancy actually show the hardships of true love. romantic or not, they show how love is meant to be. it’s mean to be hard it’s meant to be painful, it’s meant to make you doubt, take a step back and remember that nothing is perfect but that it can always be worked through. byler & jancy make ALL parties involved better/uplift the other while stancy & mileven do the opposite they lead to lying, they lead to trying to uphold the “perfect” couple image and forgetting to make the other better because they’re too busy trying to make themselves look good. these ships are selfish and don’t put the other person’s needs into perspective. CRAZY btw that stancy (platonic) & elmike are WONDERFUL. they showcase the care they have for the other and how deep their relationship can actually become when they’re faced with life or death. one example is how mike reacted in season 3 when billy was coming after el and he found his courage to hit billy (mileven was broken up) but in season 4 despite being together and all love dove, in a serious moment, mike just can’t do anything to help el, she needed him and yet he couldn’t deliver romantically but he could platonically! reminding her to fight vs the i love you’s (duffers were crazy for this.

basically, stancy & mileven CANNOT be endgame and byler and jancy don’t have to be endgame bc the wheelers might enter an independent era. however, they cannot return to the people that have done nothing for their character development except show the audience how much better off they are without them. also if you think about it this is literally applicable to all endgame ships, jopper, duzie, lumax, & rovickie. nobody doubts jopper, why? because bob was adorable but they were low-key superficial, hopper understood joyce and was willing to believe “crazy joyce”. and even their fights in season 3, so interesting that we see this olive branch that exists between them from joyce even after they spend the ENTIRE season arguing. lumax, endgame from the jump, dustin was superficially fascinated with max bc she was a girl that had boy-ish interests he didn’t even know her, he didn’t try like lucas really did, you could say he didn’t have the chance, but it’s just too clear that lucas saw her as an equal, dustin saw her as an ideal figure (HMMM) & rovickie + stobin , teaches the audience that queer people deserve love and acceptance, exactly what they’ve been denied over and over. and dustin and suzie, insane that dustin had to teach steve that social norms don’t matter, that he should pursue the person who understand him best. suzie is gorgeous to dustin and she’s a brainiac that is now dustin’s equal. dustin has his disability but it doesn’t change at all how suzie sees him, she sees him for his perfections. jonathan is the outcast with mrs. perfect, two people who don’t “make sense” and yet fit together better than any popular jock for nancy. and byler, don’t get me started AGAIN, no one understands will like mike does, and no one makes mike feel better than will does. these ships don’t have to make sense to the outside world, just to the other.

[thedaughterofkings]

Sooooooo what is this cool german (?) show I'm seeing on my dash? 👀

This turned out long, so please click to read more!

Oooooooookay, soooooooo:

There is this long-running crime show on German television called Tatort (crime scene) - and I do mean long-running, the first episode was broadcast in 1970! The first broadcast of a new episode is almost always on a Sunday at a quarter past eight (prime time). In total there are almost 1300 episodes! The good thing is though, that you don't have to watch every single episode because it's not one continuous story.

Rather, there are different teams which investigate crime in different cities, and while there are some teams/characters which have been around for a very long time, we do get new teams regularly.

In 2020 a new series with a new team of police officers started in Saarbrücken (capital of the smallest federal state, disregarding the city states). AND BOY DID IT START!

The structure is almost always the same - there's a crime of the day which gets solved within 90 minutes. As the main characters are recurring, you usually also get some personal info about them and their relationships in every episode, but truly overarching B-plots are somewhat rare, especially as it's typically at least a few months until a new episode for a team is released (there are currently 18 teams in the rotation, which all get one to three new episodes per year).

With our current team for Tatort Saarbrücken we do get a larger focus on the characters and an actual B-plot over several episodes - which is especially surprising as it's produced by the smallest of the federal/regional public broadcasters and only gets one (ONE!!!!!) episode per year. Which we just had. And it ended on a massive cliffhanger. And now we have to wait. A YEAR!!! Anyways:

Our four main characters are a team of police inspectors investigating homicides.

I present to you:

Adam Schürk:

Our wet little meow meow, loves wearing double denim, police inspector that used to work in Berlin but recently returned to his hometown of Saarbrücken because he could become the partner of his former best friend -

Leo Hölzer:

the team lead, and, it turns out, the one who as a teenager put Adam's abusive (and criminal) dick of a father into a coma by hitting him with a spade to stop him beating Adam to death (hence the nickname "Spatort", a portmonteau of "Spaten" (spade) and "Tatort" (crime scene), which combined make a sort of "spade scene").

When Adam turns up, Leo is struggling to keep his team together, especially butting heads with

Esther Baumann:

the only competent one, initially very much questions Leo's authority and capability as team lead, still very much annoyed (and rightfully so) at the questionable methods that especially Adam uses to investigate their homicides ("Adam style" - which means dangerous, and probably illegal), speaks French (Saarbrücken is very close to France) and flirts with pretty fellow female French police officers, and calls the last member of the team pet names

Pia Heinrich:

why yes, almost every gif tumblr suggested for her shows her eating! In the first episodes I'd call her the laid back one, not as high strung as Esther, not as utterly insanely codependent as Adam and Leo, but oh how the turn tables! In the latest episode she's shown to be taking adhd medicine to be able to stay awake longer and investigate a cold case of a missing person that's probably going to fuel the B-plot for the next set of episodes.

When I watched their first episode, I was sitting there like - is anyone else seeing this??? I can't be the only one seeing this???? And the only place I could think of to check was tumblr - and lo, and behold, I was not the only one seeing it!

What we were seeing was:

Leo and Adam, childhood best friends (in contrast to what I've written above, in the following gif it's actually Leo, not Adam, who's double denim-ing)

it's revealed that Adam protected Leo from bullies at school, while he himself was being trained/abused/shut into wardrobes by his father, a criminal (to put it mildly). When they are discovered by Adam's father in the tree house, he beats Adam so much that Leo fears for his life and takes a spade and hits Adam's father with it, who ends up in a coma because of that. The boys hide the spade attack by feigning an accident and setting a fire to destroy evidence.

At some point after this, Adam leaves Saarbrücken/runs away, and has apparently no contact to Leo until he suddenly appears in Leo's office as his new partner!

They are of course immediately called away to a homicide and we get our first hug:

At this point I was biting back screams, kicking my feet in excitement and heading to tumblr. They've been reunited for like half an hour or so at this point!!!!!

Throughout the in total now seven episodes we also get scenes like these:

(this is Leo arresting Adam because Adam's father committed suicide in a way that made it seem as though Adam killed him - no I am not kidding and yes it involves frogs) Of course Leo works hard to clear his name and get him released form prison - which is actually when the above hug happens.

AND OF COURSE:

Are we being queerbaited? I honestly don't know - it could just be an accidental queerbait where we do most of the work ourselves, who knows, they might actually make them canon (in like five to fifteen years) - as it is, the last episode didn't have such a major focus on them and their relationship which my shipping heart of course doesn't like, but it did leave more room for the girls and for developing the relationships between the different constellations within the team and I did like that a lot!

Annnnnnd, we did end with something of a hug between the two (spoiler alert I guess^^°):

this is Leo's head on Adam's lap - unfortunately post explosion and of course the cliffhanger left us hanging before we could tell whether Leo's still alive or not! (guess why we are screaming)

Anyways, getting into Tatort Saarbrücken is both not a huge commitment (there's only six episodes of 90 minutes each so far) and a huge commitment because after each episode you'll have to wait A YEAR, but I think it's totally worth it!

Currently all episodes should be available in the ARD Mediathek, for anyone who can access it and speaks German (German subtitles available too). I do believe there are versions with English subtitles floating around as well, I can try and find them, if there's any interest!

I can go into (WAY) more detail on the different episodes or crimes or characters or relationships, if you're interested, but this is probably already way longer than you expected so I'll stop here!

[thehigherseekerastro]

Hello and Happy Holidays! I was wondering do you know what Synastry aspects & overlays indicate being very attached at the hip? To the point that it might seem very odd to see one without the other?? "We're a packaged deal"// "Hey, where's your shadow?"// "You guys are just two peas in a pod"// "With us you get a two for one special" Kind of energy/vibe. Thank you for your time, and hope that there is plenty of Holiday joy and cheer for you and your loved ones!

Hiiii, love! Happy holidays! And thank you very much for the well wishes. I wish you the very same back! 🩷

I always try to be as honest as possible here with my astrology content, so I'll say that I am not sure I am the best person to answer this question, but I will try to answer you to the best of my ability.

First, I will give you some cautionary ideas, but then I'll give possible positive outcomes of the synastry you asked about.

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

Synastry: External x Internal

The first thing to point out would be the manifestation of said synastry. What is it exactly that you want? Because it can look different from the outside than it feels like for the two people in the relationship. You could be talking about a synastry that LOOKS (external) like they're conjoined twins and happy about it, but FEELS (internal) like an obligation or suffocating for them. Or you could be talking about a synastry that is very private in display, so it seems cold or distant to the outside, but in their intimacy they're very attached.

You might even be looking at synastry that has veered into sibling-like/platonic convenience territory, and the romantic love isn't that strong there anymore, but they're still maintaining the habit of doing everything together. Perhaps a synastry that talks less of mutual adoration and more of codependency and lack of individuality.

It's important that when we look at synastry we don't romanticize the appearance of it (and that includes our idealized fantasies of what the perfect love would look like), and rathe focus on the FEELING of that synastry, because at the end of the day, it should feel good, healthy and mutually respectful, regardless of the vibe it gives off.

Synastry: Does all "good" synastry feel good?

Ever heard the phrase 'too much of a good thing is a bad thing'?

Now, here, I don't mean quantity, but rather intensity.

Having that type of synastry you talked about... are we sure it feels right for everyone? And HOW did we get to that point of being so close all the time? Was it because of a constant need for the other's company or is it possessiveness and an imbalance of power? Because synastry can describe both, and it can make one look like the other.

My point is to say that you could have no such aspect with someone and grow a very close and flowy connection, just like you can have that type of synastry and it goes overboard and turns harmful, but one would never know from looking at it superficially.

How much synastry does it take?

The answer is: more than you expect.

You see, while we'll often see analyses for individual placements online, that is done only to make it more simple to understand, but one aspect alone cannot realistically carry an entire connection. You are not gonna behave an entire way just because you have that one aspect or overlay. In real life, just like you need to look at the entire chart to describe a person, synastry aspects NEED support and combination with multiple aspects/overlays.

The reason being that the same aspect can cause different effects for different relationships. Codependency between lovers and codependency between family members are different things, for example. But they can come from having the exact same aspect/overlay.

So, like a puzzle, synastry needs multiple pieces at the same time to formulate an entire bigger picture and differentiate one thing from another.

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Assuming that you are talking specifically of synastry between a healthy and happy and loving couple...

It would need to be a combination of both emotional and physical synastry, so one Mars this, or one Moon that, is not gonna cut it. It needs multiple placements going in the same direction. So apply this if at least 2 or more aspects are present at the same time:

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* Rising conjunct rising *

No, not rising in the other's first house. It needs to be conjunct. Sometimes, not even having the same rising sign is enough if it's not conjunct.

If you use the Placidus system and you have a Leo rising at 21° and someone else is a Virgo rising at 7°, their rising will fall inside your 1st house – that does NOT mean you have the same rising sign, nor that your risings are conjunct.

If you are a Virgo rising at 2° and someone else is a Virgo rising at 28° degrees, you do have the same rising sign, but your ascendants are NOT in conjunction.

When the risings are in conjunction that indicates a similar way of going about life, carrying oneself, behaving and expressing. It COULD go the other direction and turn into rivalry, though. If it doesn't, then the people should naturally behave very similarly, and that creates a feeling of "ease" with the other person, because you don't have to be explaining yourself, they just act like you naturally.

* A combination of Cancer + Leo + Scorpio placements between the two *

That means that the two people have placements in those three signs. They don't need to both have all 3 signs in their chart at the same time, but they do need to have at least 2, and if they have the same sign it's even stronger.

For example: If Person A is a Cancer sun, with a Leo moon. And Person B also has a Leo moon and has a bunch of Scorpio placements in their chart.

Cancer is a naturally clingy and attached sign, so Person A will naturally want to be attached at the hip with the person they love. The closer they are, the more stable, safe and secure Cancerians feel, so they need emotional and physical proximity to feel like things are under control and safe. They see emotional compatibility as a sign that things are going right and they found the right person.

Leo is a fire sign, but it's a fixed fire sign, so it's also very attached to what it knows. Being a fire sign, Leo IS guided by their desires and wants, but unlike the other two fire signs (Aries & Sagittarius), Leo is not fickle. It doesn't change plans on a whim, on an impulse. Specially in love. But it feels emotions very ardently and deeply. So Leo wants to be obsessed with their partner and it wants their partner to be obsessed back.

Scorpio is another fixed sign - like Leo -, and another water sign - like Cancer -, so combine the two and you get a Scorpio. Scorpio is deathly committed, it's obsessive in it's love and it is dead set on one target and one target only. It wants to know its people deeply, inside and out, all of them. ALL of them. Which means Scorpio doesn't ever get bored or tired of their lover. They would gladly spend 24 hours + 7 days a week + 12 months with their lover.

That means that these placements naturally have a need to be around that person constantly and they thrive on doing and wanting the same things. So this can cause the two people to do everything together all the time, to a point in which they create their own little bubble and their own world, in which others from the outside can't really get in. At times, they might even forget others are even around.

* Same moon sign *

That means what it says. They have the exact same moon sign. Their moons don't have to be necessarily conjunct, but they DO need to be in the same sign.

So if you have a Sagittarius moon at 26° and someone has a Capricorn moon at 1°, TECHNICALLY your moons are conjunct by 5 degrees. But they are not in the same sign. Your personalities are different. That connection works in a different way.

But if you have a Sagittarius moon at 12° and someone has a Sagittarius moon at 25°, they are too far apart to be conjunct, but they are still in the same sign. So you have the same emotional landscape.

When two people share a moon sign that immediately describes a sense of comfort, understanding and safety. It also sparks up a gigantic amount of excitement. Because they recognize each other, they understand each other's emotional impulses, and they don't have to explain what they feel a lot, because the other person probably already feels the exact same way, so they just "get it". They can translate what the other feels easily.

It can make the people want to be around one another all the time, because with this person it feels safe, there's no suckerpunch, no surprise, no judgement, no rejection, no ambush. Plus, they validate each other A LOT.

Physically, they will want to hang out as much as possible. Emotionally, they will just rely on each other constantly for mutual support, which can make them – again – tune out everybody else and just focus on each other.

This literally gives "they finish each other's sentences" energy. Bonus points if it's a Leo moon.

* Mars conjunct moon *

Now, again, this aspect alone will not create this. If people have Mars conjunct moon, but the rest of the synastry is a disaster, they will most definitely not go the right way with this. I am talking about a COMBINATION of HEALTHY aspects TOGETHER.

There isn't much to say about this one. It combines physical needs with emotional needs. It IS a tricky aspect, because it gives rise to violent anger, on the account that it's the planet of aggression touching the planet of emotions. So they will value the impact of the other person a lot, which means that when that person upsets them, they feel it even more dramatically than with others. But when it works well, it really works nicely.

The first and most apparent effect of this would be a need to be physically close to the other a lot. So they will often sit next to each other, talk looking at each other, walk very close to each other, touch each other a lot, even if it's light touches, and depending on their level of intimacy, do physical forms of affection, like kisses on cheeks, head, shoulders, hugs, gentle caress etc.

Emotionally, they will search for drive in each other. It's like the other person is their personal motivator. If they are in a group setting, for example, they might look at the other person for validation that what the're saying is right, or they might feel safe to share their ideals and aspirations because the other person is there to support them. It can even make a shy person start to speak up their thoughts because the other boosts their confidence and will defend them if needed.

* Mercury in the same element *

Both having a water Mercury (Cancer, Scorpio or Pisces), a fire Mercury (Aries, Leo or Sagittarius), earth Mercury (Taurus, Virgo or Capricorn) or air Mercury (Gemini, Libra or Aquarius). Mercury is the planet of communication and the mind.

When two people have compatible Mercuries, even if they are not in the same sign, but they are in the same element, that talks of an easy flow of communication between them. That means the core of how they formulate their thoughts is the same:

Water - driven by emotional intelligence.

Fire - driven by sensorial intelligence (how it feels like in their body. Does it feel exciting or annoying?).

Earth - driven by practical analysis.

Air - driven by rational, factual mental processes.

They can understand each other fairly easy, as well as explain themselves to the other. That can mean conversations can become very centered on them and others sort of fade away into the background, SPECIALLY if the other people aren't getting what they mean. Mercury is impatient, so if they are with others and the others don't get what they're saying, they could be just like "ugh! Whatever. This person gets it, so I'll just talk to them and ignore the others. If they get it, that's enough for me."

* 5th house overlays with major planets *

Major planets are: Sun, Moon, Mercury, Venus and Mars. The 5H is the house of joy and excitement, the house of play, fun, romance and pleasure.

If someone's major placements touch your 5H or vice versa, it can describe a relationship in which everything with that person feels like a reward and the best times of one's life. Everything feels exciting and pleasurable.

So who wouldn't want to be around someone who's fun and makes you happy all the time? They never get bored of each other.

This one also gives "tag team" energy. They are mischievous together, and might cause trouble with the help of one another. In a good, light-hearted way. Like joining forces to prank their friends. They also go on all types of adventures together.

* Mercury in the 3rd house overlay *

The house of communication with the planet of communication. Need I say more? The Mercury needs to be in good condition, though, otherwise, it will be manipulation instead of cooperation. And, once more, other positive aspects need to also be present.

Just mental connection to a level that is almost psychic. They read each other's minds.

Internally, that can make they feel intuitively connected and understood.

Externally, they can be the pair that always knows what the other is thinking, what they're gonna say, and become the official spokesperson for the other.

They also do NOT get tired of talking to each other. Ever. They can talk forever, and they never seem to run out of conversations to have. They might even talk in a similar way, or adopt each other's mannerisms and speech patterns. They also learn words, phrases and expressions from one another. And they change the other's perspective easily.

* Pluto in the 7th house overlay *

This one can be more on the toxic side, I warn.

It creates obsession and possessiveness, as well as codependency. So it could give rise to that "shadow" effect. Always with each other, always in each other's radar, refusing to break apart. It also creates an addictive feeling.

It can also make them be secretive together, which can give even more the energy that they are each other's shadow.

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That's it!

There's a few more, but I feel like for now that's been enough to read.

I hope the information is helpful to you. Let me know if you have any questions or feedback!

Thank you for the question and have a happy holiday season! ❤️🎄

[deadbaguette]

Can we maybe see some PenDio? 🥹 What their love is like?

Some PenDio for the soul! I would LOVE to elaborate on them (assuming this is in context of my Diomedes goes to Ithaca AU)🙏

I think I’ve talked about their dynamic in one of my other posts/asks but to sum it up:

Their relationship cannot be encompassed in one word! It’s neither romantic nor platonic, but it’s not a friends with benefits type situation. The word I used for it before was ‘partners’ and I still think that’s the best word. They’re not husband and wife, but they’re not just good friends either. Initially it was a relationship of convenience; scare the suitors off until Odysseus comes back. But they’ve been doing this stalemate for YEARS, but neither of them want to change the state of their relationship until Odysseus is back/confirmed alive.

That’s another thing. Odysseus is absolutely haunting the narrative here lmao, he’s vital to the different relationships in this AU even if he’s not physically there. They won’t make things official because “that’s Odysseus’ wife”/“I’m Odysseus’ wife”, and both of them are pretty aware of this. Still, it doesn’t take away from the fact that they DO love each other. They’ve been there for each other in a way no one else in the kingdom can be. Despite having never met prior, there’s an understanding and connection between them that’s been there because of their intertwined backgrounds. They love Odysseus, and they love each other too. Not in spite/despite the fact they love Odysseus, it’s a simple love that coexists and at the same time is connected.

But to talk a bit more about THEM: It’s definitely a domestic heavy moment relationship with a questionably healthy amount of codependency. It’s a simple thing! Have you ever loved someone for just being there? Yeah, that’s what this is. They don’t need grand gestures or proclamations of love. It was a love that was realised and embraced in its simplest form. They’ll be content to sit in each other’s embrace and Penelope tells Diomedes of Telemachus’ early years, Penelope will tends to to the hair that Diomedes grew out for Odysseus while he recounts their years together in the war, and even something like a simple indulgence of how was the other’s day is all they need.

A little more headcanons about them before I finish the post:

Diomedes is quite romantically dense. He often misses the signs of romance (whether he’s the one doing or receiving the signs). While Penelope, much like Odysseus, is very aware of this thing. It doesn’t cause problems for them, but it was a little confusing at first. One time they sat at the beach for hours, exchanged a genuinely heart felt conversation, and when Penelope gave him a small kiss (on the cheek!) he was a little taken aback and ??..!?!,,!??!!!! Not in a bad way though

While I don’t hc Diomedes to live in the palace, I imagine when they are close, they’re CLOSE. Like not in the very in your face type PDA, but their knees might always be touching or a sturdy hand on the other’s shoulder or intertwined with the other’s hand.

They make each other smile a lot, but not in the way Odysseus did. Being with Odysseus brought a bright big smile to their face, or evening filled with soft laughter. But Pendio? It’s a small smile, not worth any less, but a reassurance or a grounding force.

All in all, there is a space for Odysseus when he comes back, because that space was never taken. But in his absence, I do like to think Penelope and Diomedes grew closer. Sorry if this is a little incoherent! They make me a little insane 😭

[morgana-ren]

Astarion in a relationship with Tav slowly but surely gets more used to physical touch as a form of reassurance and comfort. In Baldur’s Gate Astarion gets more anxious, Tav sensing his anxiety holds his hand. It anchor’s him to reality. He gently strokes Tav’s hand with his thumb, it’s small but he’s extremely grateful.

Everyone in the party is chiding Astarion for his sudden change in attitude around Tav though. Especially Lae-zel.

It would take a very long time, and when it happened, it would become a sort of strange codependence. Vampires stand ever at the precipice of an endless, abyssal eternity, and I feel that makes them very susceptible to the traditional and almost primal idea of a 'mate.' You have to have some sort of anchor to reality when you're robbing the mind of its one certainly: mortality. Cazador clearly chose his cruelty and dominion, and I think that and his experience is influencing Astarion to do the same, but he isn't Cazador, and he shows that-- whether he means to or not.

During the early part of their adventures, Astarion is very heavily masked, or 'chameleoned' around everyone. He has this posh, pompous air of arrogance and flamboyance, and uses his wit and snide sarcasm as a defense mechanism to keep everyone at arm's length. You can see it start to crack when he gets emotional or is surprised, or even just doesn't have things go his way. He is rash, angry, and explosive - feral almost. A fanged creature baring claw and teeth because that is all he knows, and when threatened, he reverts to his true nature, despite that it was forced on him.

For example, when he is trying to inspect his scars and you offer to help and he is surprised, he snaps on you. He is quick to apologize and rescind what he said, but that's him putting that mask back on. It's clear he is very angry and losing control now that he can finally view his situation through an unobscured lens and it's still frustrating.

He quickly realizes that he's shown a crack in his armor and straightens his spine and sucks it up for the sake of the facade. It happens a few times, but it's so, so hard to wear that heavy mask for weeks into months as he travels, and harder still to hide from someone who cares about him when he's spent so long in the dark alone.

Astarion shows fairly early on that he isn't averse to touch— just touch he doesn't approve of. Assuming you do the right things, he'll lie with you fairly early, but he makes it relatively clear that this isn't love. He'll even tell you outright that he'd say it but it's a lie. He is purposefully distancing himself because he doesn't want any distractions, any weakness, any vulnerability.

But this is all new-- so dreadfully, and terribly new. He doesn't even remember his life before Cazador, so in a sense, all he has ever known has been cruelty. Thorns and brambles hardly make for comfort, especially when they're self-imposed. Eventually, he might come to the realization that he doesn't have to go at this alone, and why should he? Eternity is such a long time to spend on one's own.

He gets nervous. He gets anxious. He pushes on but there are situations that blatantly frighten him. He stiffens his upper lip and handles it like he thinks he should-- on his own, with his fear shoved aside in his mind and his goal in front-- but would relenting be such a bad thing?

Taking comfort where he can find it: In the kindred spirit he found on the roadside. Someone who happens to be one of the only ones that knows what he's going through at the moment-- and one of the only people in the world that seems to understand him on some level. Having someone at your side doesn't have to be a vulnerability-- it can be a strength. Two blades are better than one, and life is so much easier when you have someone there to watch your back.

It's a small touch-- gentle and hardly noticeable at all-- just a subtle hand-hold, or a little grasp on the arm; standing closely enough together that you can feel each other's warmth or perhaps a tiny, inconspicuous nuzzle. It means the world to him, when he allows it. It shows him he's not alone-- and he doesn't have to be. When they can't indulge fully in each other far from the fireside of camp, he can take comfort in Tav's warm and gentle touch no matter how far from the light he must stray.

As far as he is concerned, everyone else in their merry band of men can fuck off. He couldn't care less about their opinions. Perhaps they're bitter, or maybe they're jealous and covet what he's found in Tav. Either way, they can drown in their own tears over it.