#did you know i ALMOST lost this english version

[sneevl13t]

dropping this because i dont want to lose my original work, will edit with every microsoft word page i exceed

02/01 UPDATE UPDATE UPDATE IT IS DUE IN 5TH OF JANUARY BUT I DONT WANT TO COMPELTE IT UH OH!!!

Will the world ever wonder, what comes after death?

Will it be dark, or would I be greeted with the gates of paradise?

Will I be lonely, or will you be there with me?

“Telos!” The voice of a young girl, oh so familiar to the ears of the world, echoed through the meadows. Despite his peace being interrupted, Telos looked back to see Arche running towards him without a care in the world. Within seconds, she crashed onto him, her long, curly blonde hair waving freely in the breeze of the wind. The two kids laughed at the simplicity of the moment, the rays coming from the sunset glistening upon their skin.

After a while, they finally get back on their feet. Arche was huffing due to how fast she ran towards him, a drop of sweat coming down from her forehead to her cheek, eventually dropping down to the ground. “You’re far too energetic for your own good.” Telos spoke with a faux frown on his face, ruffling up Arche’s hair before he went back to admiring the sunset.

Arche, naïve as ever, could only giggle at him. However, his focus on the sunset caught her eye. Why is he so focused on the sunset? The thoughts swirled in her mind as she admired him, almost as much as he admired the sunet.

How does he remain calm in every situation: no matter how big or small?

How does he get blessed for his beauty: his flowy brown hair and iridescent blue eyes?

How does he never see her: was she always his second choice?

The thoughts linger on Arche’s mind for far too long, and her focus was eventually taken away from her best friend. The bellflowers that decorates the meadow lays still, indicating the wind had halted its breeze. “Telos,” She spoke softly, trying to gain his attention. “If we get separated in the future, would you remember me after a century?”

“Are you dumb? I’d be dead by then. Of course I wouldn’t remember you.” Telos replied half-heartedly, even snorting at the supposedly ‘dumb’ question.

Arche felt a flare of disappointment and bitterness in her heart, but she kept her persistence, demanding an answer from Telos. “Come on! Have some creativity for once. You’re always so technical and factual…” There was a clear giveaway of her distress, one of which was the way her eyebrows furrowed and her soft cheeks puffing up.

“Fine,” Telos sighed in annoyance, leaning just a tad bit closer to the younger kid next to him, wrapping an arm around Arche’s shoulder.

“Let’s just say… I would still remember you after a century.” Telos spoke softly, making sure that Arche kept her eyes on him to know that he truly did mean it. “You mean a lot to me, Arche, even if I don’t show it.” He continued, ignoring the distant cries of the meadowlarks which had descended upon their ceremonial meeting place. “And I do realie that this is a serious moment, but I would like to add that the question is still dumb because I know that you know that this will be my answer.”

Upon finishing his words, Telos soon earned a smack in the face from Arche, and the laughter began once more when he saw how bummed she looked. “Hey, it’s the truth! Come on, you know I’m right!” Telos said amidst his laughter, patting Arche’s back as he does so.

Seeing how Arche was still pouting, almost like a petulant toddler, Telos rolled his eyes before dragging her up from the fallen tree log, holding her close so that she remains stable in the sudden change from sitting to standing. “Do you want to go back now? It’s starting to get dark, and I know that you’re a scaredy cat.” Telos teased her, receiving a grumpy grumble in return. He couldn’t help but smile at her act, already walking back to their village.

As the pair made their short way back to home, the darkness of the night slowly engulfing the previous sunset colouring. The squawking of birds, big and small, had begun once more. The magenta bellflowers, which was already beautiful in the sunlight, had somehow glows much more in the moonlight.

[longagoitwastuesday]

.

I'm only two episodes in right now, and thus far I find the show neat, but nothing unforgettable; which is a normal occurrence, I'm after all just two episodes in.

I was told the anime had both a sort of noir film and western air and I think it's interesting how the music reflects that (it so reminds me of Morricone and spaghetti westerns specifically at times). I do love the mix.

Something else I find very interesting, and the is quite common of old scifi, is how the development of futuristic aesthetic has changed through time alongside the evolution of our technology in real life. Futuristic aesthetic used to be way more mechanical and manual than it is now, not in a steampunk kind of way but in a manner that in hindsight does somewhat recall that. It makes me think about how cars' engines, while at their core remaining mechanical, have become more and more electrical with time. You can see in these old futuristic renditions that cars used to be more mechanical. I do prefer that. I like machines because of their machine part. I also find extremely interesting how one can dream up a whole new world or technology, yet it is hard to get rid of what is considered at the core of the functioning of that technology; wasn't there a Jules Verne book in which something like the Internet worked similarly to wired telephones?

Spike is neat. He's very funny and goofy in that actually-he's-sad-and-haunted way. I must say I do love those things. Pretty sure he's going to die. The very beginning of the first episode seems like a flashback, which I think is kinda confirmed by the ending's imagery. And yet it also seems like a flashforward, as if past and future converged in one, and the present were just a necessary thread stitching them together. He was there once, but he'll be there again; it will be for the same reason, and he will die again in a second death that will be but one, since it's the same. You know, that kind of deal. That's the feeling I'm getting out of him, especially given the whole "You'll meet a woman and you'll die / Again? I've already done that" scene in the very first episode.

In that regard, in a way it reminds me a bit of Chronicle of a Death Foretold by Gabriel García Márquez, or some other play on repetition of one's life in which you can foresee the ending from the beginning because they're the same (in general GGM has this happen a lot through his writing). Following that same line, the first flashback, despite giving big noir film vibes aesthetically, also reminded me of the western High Plains Drifter. I rather like that film.

I think of the song "Blue", which is part of the reason why I'm watching this. I think of it now with what I've seen. Hard to tell the difference between life and death, dream and reality, once you've already died and are on borrowed time. Like a watch stuck always on the same hour, the same minute, the second hand trembling but never advancing.

[intheholler]

the appalachian murder ballad <3 one of the most interesting elements of americana and american folk, imo!

my wife recently gave me A Look when i had one playing in the car and she was like, "why do all of these old folk songs talk about killing people lmao" and i realized i wanted to Talk About It at length.

nerd shit under the cut, and it's long. y'all been warned

so, as y'all probably know, a lot of appalachian folk music grew its roots in scottish folk (and then was heavily influenced by Black folks once it arrived here, but that's a post for another time).

they existed, as most folk music does, to deliver a narrative--to pass on a story orally, especially in communities where literacy was not widespread. their whole purpose was to get the news out there about current events, and everyone loves a good murder mystery!

as an aside, i saw someone liken the murder ballad to a ye olde true crime podcast and tbh, yeah lol.

the "original" murder ballads started back across the pond as news stories printed on broadsheets and penned in such a way that it was easy to put to melody.

they were meant to be passed on and keep the people informed about the goings-on in town. i imagine that because these songs were left up to their original orators to get them going, this would be why we have sooo many variations of old folk songs.

naturally then, almost always, they were based on real events, either sung from an outside perspective, from the killer's perspective and in some cases, from the victim's. of course, like most things from days of yore, they reek of social dogshit. the particular flavor of dogshit of the OG murder ballad was misogyny.

so, the murder ballad came over when the english and scots-irish settlers did. in fact, a lot of the current murder ballads are still telling stories from centuries ago, and, as is the way of folk, getting rewritten and given new names and melodies and evolving into the modern recordings we hear today.

305 such scottish and english ballads were noted and collected into what is famously known as the Child Ballads collected by a professor named francis james child in the 19th century. they have been reshaped and covered and recorded a million and one times, as is the folk way.

while newer ones continued to largely fit the formula of retelling real events and murder trials (such as one of my favorite ones, little sadie, about a murderer getting chased through the carolinas to have justice handed down), they also evolved into sometimes fictional, (often unfortunately misogynistic) cautionary tales.

perhaps the most famous examples of these are omie wise and pretty polly where the woman's death almost feels justified as if it's her fault (big shocker).

but i digress. in this way, the evolution of the murder ballad came to serve a similar purpose as the spooky legends of appalachia did/do now.

(why do we have those urban legends and oral traditions warning yall out of the woods? to keep babies from gettin lost n dying in them. i know it's a fun tiktok trend rn to tell tale of spooky scary woods like there's really more haints out here than there are anywhere else, but that's a rant for another time too ain't it)

so, the aforementioned little sadie (also known as "bad lee brown" in some cases) was first recorded in the 1920s. i'm also plugging my favorite female-vocaist cover of it there because it's superior when a woman does it, sorry.

it is a pretty straightforward murder ballad in its content--in the original version, the guy kills a woman, a stranger or his girlfriend sometimes depending on who is covering it.

but instead of it being a cautionary 'be careful and don't get pregnant or it's your fault' tale like omie wise and pretty polly, the guy doesn't get away with it, and he's not portrayed as sympathetic like the murderer is in so many ballads.

a few decades after, women started saying fuck you and writing their own murder ballads.

in the 40s, the femme fatale trope was in full swing with women flipping the script and killing their male lovers for slights against them instead.

men began to enter the "find out" phase in these songs and paid up for being abusive partners. women regained their agency and humanity by actually giving themselves an active voice instead of just being essentially 'fridged in the ballads of old.

her majesty dolly parton even covered plenty of old ballads herself but then went on to write the bridge, telling the pregnant-woman-in-the-murder-ballad's side of things for once. love her.

as a listener, i realized that i personally prefer these modern covers of appalachian murder ballads sung by women-led acts like dolly and gillian welch and even the super-recent crooked still especially, because there is a sense of reclamation, subverting its roots by giving it a woman's voice instead.

meaning that, like a lot else from the problematic past, the appalachian murder ballad is something to be enjoyed with critical ears. violence against women is an evergreen issue, of course, and you're going to encounter a lot of that in this branch of historical music.

but with folk songs, and especially the murder ballad, being such a foundational element of appalachian history and culture and fitting squarely into the appalachian gothic, i still find them important and so, so interesting

i do feel it's worth mentioning that there are "tamer" ones. with traditional and modern murder ballads alike, some of them are just for "fun," like a murder mystery novel is enjoyable to read; not all have a message or retell a historical trial.

(for instance, i'd even argue ultra-modern, popular americana songs like hell's comin' with me is a contemporary americana murder ballad--being sung by a male vocalist and having evolved from being at the expense of a woman to instead being directed at a harmful and corrupt church. that kind of thing)

in short: it continues to evolve, and i continue to eat that shit up.

anyway, to leave off, lemme share with yall my personal favorite murder ballad which fits squarely into murder mystery/horror novel territory imo.

it's the 10th child ballad and was originally known as "the twa sisters." it's been covered to hell n back and named and renamed.

but! if you listen to any flavor of americana, chances are high you already know it; popular names are "the dreadful wind and rain" and sometimes just "wind and rain."

in it, a jealous older sister pushes her other sister into a river (or stream, or sea, depending on who's covering it) over a dumbass man. the little sister's body floats away and a fiddle maker come upon her and took parts of her body to make a fiddle of his own. the only song the new fiddle plays is the tale about how it came to be, and it is the same song you have been listening to until then.

how's that for genuinely spooky-scary appalachia, y'all?

[possesseddesiress]

Brother's Issues

CONTENT WARNING: This story includes themes of transformation and body control with a suggestive approach. If this type of narrative is not to your liking or you do not meet the recommended age, we suggest you do not continue. All images used (if any) belong to their respective owners. I claim no authorship over them and they are only used for illustrative purposes.

If you decide to go ahead, welcome to Possessed Desires, where mind and body are never completely under your control.

Brother's Issues (English Version)

My older brother was infuriating. A guy with more ego than brains, but who had such an enviable body that it further reinforced his smug attitude.

The fights in my house were constant, the idiot left his clothes all over the place and hardly showered! He was always bragging about his "man smell"; and of course, being the oldest, my parents let him do whatever he wanted. He always got away with it, and I could only die of envy.

Mark was the big brother while I just made do with the scraps, I don't think I'm unattractive, but when you compare a river to the sea, clearly the sea is going to win.

He always got everyone's attention: teachers, family, even my ex-boyfriends; even if he wasn't gay, they always ended up confessing to me that what they wanted was to be near him.

And I was fed up.

I had been lost on the Internet for at least two hours in the wee hours of the morning, not seeing anything interesting until an email seemed to arrive.

"Want to be someone else? Read this email."

The first thing I did was close the message. It was ridiculous, sure it was some kind of spam mail. But the more time passed, an extra curiosity began to tingle in me, until I couldn't take it anymore. I ended up opening it and reading it.

It had a series of instructions on how to prepare a concoction with rather curious ingredients, but that would cause two people to change their bodies when they drank it.

Again I thought it was all stupidity, when I heard something crashing again and again against my wall from my brother's room, and the excited screams of a girl who was probably his fling today, like almost every night.

I had reached my limit.

The next morning, I set about gathering all the ingredients, until I finally came up with the last one: the other person's sweat, I thought it would be difficult, but I remembered that my brother left his sweaty underwear everywhere in the house. That morning, he was out, so I thought it would be easy to sneak into his room to steal some boxers.

No sooner had I entered his room than I had filled my nostrils with a pungent odor, the whole stench of my brother was quite strong. It looked like he hadn't cleaned his room in years and it just smelled like sweat and his fluids, it stank...

I was going through his dirty clothes when I heard the thunder of the wood on his door, my skin crawled, expecting a knock. But my brother wasn't standing in the frame, but his best friend: Theo.

— What are you doing here, buddy?

Theo was a nice guy, I didn't know how he was friends with my brother. His blond hair was silky, his smile was bright...

And I'd had a crush on him for as long as I could remember.

I didn't know if it was because he treated me well, because he was a good person and kind, or all together. But gosh, he sure drove me crazy.

— N-nothing. I was about to pick up Mark's laundry.

— Is he making you do his laundry again?

I swallowed hard right then and there.

— Uh, yeah, yeah.

— Let me help you.

He came over to me to lift the basket and carry it to the laundry room, my heart was beating fast.

I didn't know if it was because I was afraid Mark would come in at any moment and notice the absence of his sweaty clothes, or if it was from being with Theo.

— Well, buddy, there's the laundry. I'll wait for your brother in his room, see you.

He waved his hands, disappearing. As soon as he left, I dived into the pile of stinky clothes, trying to find the freshest thing possible. I grabbed a pair of red underpants, they felt wet and smelly, I tried not to smell them but ended up stuffing them in my face. Soon that would be my smell...

I gathered the rest of the ingredients, prepared it in a jar and when I squeezed the sweat out of it, I swear I saw how it shined.

I let it sit until the next morning. I knew my brother was going out to work out as usual, so I always prepared his protein for the gym; before he went out, I opened the glass to pour half of the liquid and run back to my room.

The rest of the time passed slowly, I didn't know whether to drink the rest of the concoction, what if something went wrong, what if I ended up doing something bad to my brother?

Thousands of questions tormented me, but I caught a glimpse of my brother's body: Tall, stocky, with his stinky armpits, his strong legs, how his arms swelled or his big pecs. All that could be mine, at last not just the puny brother, I could be the big one.

I ended up drinking all the concoction, up to the last drop; for an instant I felt nothing, until suddenly I felt a cramp accompanied by an intense pain and dizziness, I fell to the ground like a sack of potatoes, feeling my whole body trembling and my vision went black.

In less than a second, I could see light again. However, something felt strange from the moment I blinked. Maybe it was the aroma I was now emanating, the place where I was now or the noise of weights and sports machinery being used.

I looked down, noticing my tanned skin, my thick pecs and muscles, yes I was strong!

I couldn't help but let out an excited laugh and dropped the weights my brother was carrying moments before, I almost looked like a schoolgirl with emotions running high.

I immediately dropped everything, walking uncertainly towards the bathrooms or the locker room. As soon as I saw my new reflection, it was like feeling an adrenaline rush, I was seeing my brother's reflection! I flexed his arms, enjoying how my arms and chest were swelling up. Gosh, yes!

I lifted my armpit, beginning to lick and sniff, enjoying the aroma. I clutched my nose against my new hairy armpit, panting loudly as if unhinged.I caressed every inch of my new skin, bristling at the slightest touch. I smiled smugly.

— Oh yes, my name is Mark.... – I murmured, taking the opportunity to touch the relief of my brother's pecs, letting out a squeal from the sensitivity – I'm the star athlete of my high school, a real casanova – I was loving every second, seeing how what I was saying, my brother was making exact copy of it – I used to like girls but now.... I don't know, bro. I think I'll only like boys.

I was drunk with power. I ended up leaving the gym after finding my brother's stuff, I didn't even change, I enjoyed feeling how the wet clothes stuck against my skin, the stench my body gave off, even how other guys saw me.

I ended up getting home, I didn't hear any noise, everything was quiet. I knew my parents were at work, so I went upstairs, straight to my room.

I was scared to find my brother in my body, awake. My heart was pounding... but when I opened the door, I could see my old body lying on the floor, asleep.

I smiled, I couldn't help but scoff inwardly, I even moved him slightly to see if he would react.

—You're not so strong anymore, are you, little brother? – I said teasingly.

I simply turned around, closing the door to go to my brother's room. I lifted my armpit, smiling at the scent; now I understood why he was addicted to smelling that bad.

I started rummaging through his closet, beginning to try on all of his clothes. There was something exciting about it that made my skin crawl.

I put on everything I could get my hands on: Sport shirts, shorts, skinny jeans, leather jackets. It was fun, until I found something in a drawer that made my new member firm up instantly. It was a smelly sports spandex, it was my brother's wrestling uniform. I suddenly took off my clothes to put that on instead, I smiled as I saw it fit perfectly on my body, all in place.

My fat legs encased in the tight fabric, leaving nothing to the imagination. I sat in a chair my brother had in front of his mirror, leaning back.

Loving the way I looked, I picked up his phone to start taking pictures of myself, letting my strong muscles show, or my armpits, I even made the occasional silly face.

I was a brainless jock now, wasn't I?

I sniffed hard at my new masculinity, taking advantage of the friction to drive me crazy. I was waving my hand frantically when someone entered the room, it was Theo.

— Shit! – I muttered, covering myself. He just raised his eyebrow.

— What are you doing? - he asked without giving it much importance.

— Nothing, nothing. I wasn't expecting you – I mumbled, trying to avoid his gaze.

— I told you yesterday I'd come today, are you running out of brain cells from so much protein? – He joked. I felt a warm feeling in my stomach when I heard him laugh – What are you wearing?

— My wrestling uniform, what else? – I tried to diminish the strangeness of the moment, I had to be more like Mark – it drives girls crazy, don't you think? – I muttered, flexing my arms for him.

Theo let out a friendly laugh, nodding.

— Sure, dude.

We talked for a while, at first he caught me off guard but the more I talked to him, I felt my brother's knowledge and tastes seep in. Suddenly he was talking about his subjects, his other friends, video games that only he knew about, even what sports games were coming up.

— Mark, do you want to go play video games at my house? I bought something new and we can go try it out.

— Sure, bro – I felt natural with every step and every sentence. I changed my clothes so we could go without looking ridiculous, that would be for later – Let me let my annoying brother know.

I ended up walking to my old room, still lying my body on the floor. I went out with Theo, walking down the street and enjoying the sun.

— Sometimes you're too hard on him.

— With who? – I said a bit confused.

— With your younger brother, I remember when you used to get along with him.

I felt some guilt for what he made me remember, there was a time when Mark was protective of me, and I was always hanging out with him and Theo, until.... Wow, I don't know what happened.

— He's such a loser.

— I like him, he's really nice.

I smiled to myself to hear my crush say such a thing. We ended up arriving at his house, apparently no one was home. We went up to Theo's room where we played for at least two hours, the afternoon went by fast; we kept talking about trivial topics but I couldn't help looking at him from time to time.

I felt a connection with him, natural because of my brother's friendship with Theo, but there was something that also seeped out of me, that I liked. The way he laughed, or his hair falling on his forehead, his skin, fuck, fuck...

— Come on, dude. I'm kicking your ass! – I could see how my character ended up being defeated, I was silent, just listening to his laughter, which confused him, he turned to look at me. – Mark... Are you ok?

And I couldn't hold it in any longer.

I approached him to kiss him softly, I was afraid he wouldn't kiss me back, but he immediately started kissing me again.

It was a chaos of kisses, my hands wandering awkwardly through his hair.

— Jesus, Mark...

— Don't you love it?

— I love it, man...

We ended up kissing like crazy. There were a lot of questions in me, So Theo was gay? Did he always have feelings for Mark? Was this the relationship they had? What was going on here?

But the more kisses he gave me, the less I cared. In a matter of mere seconds again we were kissing intensely and passionately. I had everything I wanted, the body I deserved, the boy of my dreams? At last everything was in place.

Theo climbed on top of me, still kissing me, even tenderly.

— Do you want me to take good care of you, big guy?

He whispered in a tone I never thought I'd hear him speak. He caressed my chest and then my abs.

— Theo...

I murmured.

— Shh...

I immediately quieted down. And gosh... He sure knew how to use his mouth, my eyes rolled to white from just feeling how over and over again he acted greedily. I was lost in the sensation until I could feel my new phone vibrating like crazy, I preferred to ignore it, but I kept getting notifications.

I reluctantly picked up the phone, only to see notifications from my old number. Apparently my brother had already woken up, there were endless messages:

"What did you do, midget!? Where are you!?"

And more messages from him, completely hysterical, although there was one in particular that made me trace a wide smile on my face:

"Are you with Theo?! Stay away from my best friend!"

I immediately activated the camera to send him some pictures. Which infuriated him even more.

I was about to burst out laughing when I heard Theo's phone start ringing.

— Mfh... Wait a minute, buddy – he sat back up and picked up his phone to check who was calling – That's weird, your brother is calling me.

— Don't answer it - I tried to sound natural.

But Theo seemed to ignore me, he answered and not only that, he put it on speaker.

— Hello?

There was silence, until Mark finally exploded with my squeaky voice.

— Theo, it's Mark! My idiot brother did something and now I'm in his body! That asshole is using my body, you have to do something!

Theo looked at me strangely, scowling, I couldn't even hold his gaze.

— Didn't you hear, Theo?! That's not me that's with you! You have to do something!

I guess the luck had lasted only a few seconds, now Theo would reject me or even hate me.

— I know, Mark – I looked up quickly, I could see the boy of my dreams with a cold profile, but not for me exactly – And I like it that way.

My old voice sounded hysterical and annoyed over the speaker until Theo cut the call.

— So... You know?

— Yes, I do.

— Was I too obvious?

— A little, but it wasn't really about that.

Without warning he kissed me again.

— But Theo...

— Who do you think sent you the mail?

He let out a laugh to kiss me intensely, I had to restrain myself from kissing him for hours or putting my hands on his body.

— Why?

— Because I've seen you, buddy - he smiled, then I realized that I always use the nickname he used to call me - I know how you look at me, I know how much you liked it. And although I felt something similar, I couldn't reciprocate you, I saw you as my little brother, it felt... wrong. Your brother's body, though, I could certainly mess with it an infinite number of times.

He caressed my smooth abs.

— So you like that I'm Mark?

— I love it. The goofy jock look suits you.

He grabbed my pecs to weigh them, then without warning lunged against my armpits to lick and sniff like crazy.

After a few weeks, I ended up adapting to my brother's life perfectly. I continued playing his sports, improved his grades, got along with his friends... The only change was when “he” came out as openly gay, my parents had to accept it and my younger brother... Well, he has no choice but to watch me bring my cute boyfriend, formerly best friend, into my room every night.

---

I hope you enjoyed this story as much as I enjoyed writing it. If you liked it, don't forget to follow it and share it so more people can discover it.

I'm always open to suggestions and ideas, so if you have any fantasy or scenario in mind, let me know in the comments or in messages.

This will be my new account, I hope you like the stories that are coming soon. See you in the next story... Who knows what body you will occupy this time?

---

[not4simp]

OOPSIES!

You got caught red handed smoking!

featuring - Sylus x reader, Caleb x reader

a/n - i can't do endings and english is not my first language so forgive me for any grammatical or structural mistake. Maybe I'll continue and make a version for Rafael, Zayne, and Xavier idk thoo.

Sylus

Sylus is an observant man. Every small detail, every precise moment, every specific word, does not go unnoticed. So it was quite a surprise that you have gone so long without him noticing your minor addiction. There were quite a few times where you almost thought you were done for. But hey, luck was truly on your side.

3 months ago You had invited Sylus over to your place to just relax. He had brought some food over and placed it over the kitchen counter where he came across 13 lighters splayed out. At first he thought you had taken an interest in collecting them, but upon taking a closer look it was from the same cheap brand you could find in a nearby mini market but in form of different colors. ‘sweetie what’s with all these lighters?’ he asked amused.

You paused for a moment, every time you used a lighter it somehow always ends up lost, frustrated you bought a whole bulk the other day. ‘oh I just love lighting up scented candles’ you waved it off. Sylus didn’t press further on and left it at that. That day Sylus went home but found not one single candle present in your house.

2 weeks ago Under the hot scorching sun you draped a shawl over your head trying to shield your boiling scalp from the immense heat. For the past days Sylus and you had just finished running some business errands and now had some free time to hop from one stall to another checking out what the locals had to offer. Within a few stalls Sylus had gone to purchase some refreshments leaving you some cash to look around and buy anything you wanted. You were looking through some fine jewelry when something else caught your eye.

A beautiful gold-plated ashtray adorning with intricate carvings. It was cool to the touch contrasting with the current weather and truly one of a kind. ‘An ashtray?’ Sylus appeared holding strawberry lemon soda in hand. ‘exquisite don’t you think?’ i said eyes still on the item. Sylus nodded an agreement, ‘let’s take a look at what other stores have to offer , oh and i already payed for it’ nudging his head towards the ashtray in my hand.

Present It was late at night yet the street lights illuminates the dark. Sylus and you had just drove through Linkon taking in the gorgeous city. It was cold and quiet everyone was fast asleep but you were parked in a 24 hour fast food restaurant enjoying an ice cream cone.

‘sweetie where’s the charger?’ he asked rummaging through the glove compartment. ‘oh yeah it’s in the armrest console’ you quickly replied. As Sylus reaches out to open it you had just recalled that it was where you had kept your Marlboro stash. Panic flowed through your chest ‘wait!’ you exclaimed, but it was too late and all you could do was sink into your seat.

Sylus examined the pack, opening it to find 4 sticks left 'Kitten this can’t be good for you, you just bought this 3 days ago' his voice carried out softly. I whipped my head to look at him 'how did you know when i bought this?' my brows furrowed questioning him. 'oh sweetie you can’t think I’m that oblivious' his lips curl into a smirk. 'if you knew all this time then why didn’t you tell me?' 'i thought I’d wait until you would tell me yourself besides, Mephisto is having a blast scouting for lighters to add to his collection' you gasped as a hand flew to your mouth feeling disbelief 'that was you?!' a finger pointed at him.

Caleb

Your head hung low looking aimlessly as cars passes by. A hand lays on the steel railing supporting your whole body while the other holds a cigarette between your index and middle finger.

You couldn’t comprehend why you continued this habit. Caleb is back, he’s alive, and you both have made up. So why couldn’t you put this habit behind you? Perhaps you were paranoid that he could be taken away from you any moment just like last time. Perhaps you’re worried that Caleb has changed and you couldn’t accept it, or perhaps-

You shut your eyes and took a long drag as the warmth overcomes you. The heavy bitter taste dances on your tongue as the nicotine settles in calming your nerves. You really needed to find another alternative way to soothe these thoughts. You were to caught up with your own mind when your ears perked up. It was as if someone has called your name.

Light footsteps clicked through your apartment’s living, You flipped your head towards the glass door behind you and to your suprise your favorite Fleet-space Colonel was currently peeking through your bedroom to look for you. Shit. At times like this you surely regretted giving him a spare key to your home. Quickly you dropped your cigarette onto the ground stumping on it before kicking it off your balcony.

The glass door slid and in walks Caleb with a big smile 'Hey Pipsqueak I’ve been calling out for you what’s got you so preoccupied out here?'. You shrugged and gave a nervous smile slowly inching back, afraid that the persistent tobacco scent would be noticed. 'Not happy to see me?' he chuckled grabbing your waist and pulling you into his embrace.

You noticed that he pulled away longer than normally but his hands were still placed firmly on your waist. 'name' his voice was sharp. It was the tone he carried when commanding the space-fleet. Oh surely you were fucked. 'hmm?' you cocked you head. 'Have you been-' he paused taking a scan of the small terrace. 'Have you been smoking?' brows furrow. Feeling caught red handed you didn’t bother answering him but rather threw your gaze towards the bustling streets.

A hand reaches your cheek guiding you to look at him But you’ve never, Why would you… Your gaze meets his and as the two of you locked eyes a silent understanding falls. His face softens up ‘You know you don’t need to carry all your burdens and worries alone anymore right?’ 'i knoww' you whined. 'how about you throw this away,' he said whilst reaching for my back pocket and waved the cigarette pack in front of me, 'and we’ll get dinner, my treat' he winked playfully. 'but it was expensive' i groaned frowning a bit. 'all the more reason to stop pipsqueak how about we also stop for dessert’ he squished your cheeks. ‘and snacks’ your voice muffled from the force against your cheeks. Caleb chuckled 'alright we have a deal' placing a chaste kiss on your forehead.

[ssa-danhotchner]

please i need a least angstier version of happier maybe reader has to go to a mision like s7 aaron in pakistan a he sees how much he really misses her

What we left behind | Aaron Hotchner x fem!reader

note: I tried my best, I hope you like it!

english isn't my first language so please be kind

cw: BAU reader, beth is in here, angst, regret, past relationship struggles, unspoken feelings

wc: 1.5k maybe?

read part two here

It wasn’t like you hated Beth.

She was kind, warm, and approachable—the kind of woman people gravitated toward without hesitation. She seemed good for Aaron, too. For all his years of shielding himself, she brought out something softer in him. When you saw them together, he smiled more. He laughed in a way that had felt rare, almost forgotten.

But watching them together hurt in a way you hadn’t anticipated. It wasn’t jealousy exactly. It was grief.

Grief for what you and Aaron had been, for what you thought you might have been.

He was the one who ended it, after all.

You remembered the night so clearly it still stung, like a bruise you kept accidentally pressing. He’d invited you over, his voice softer than usual on the phone. At first, you thought nothing of it. But when you arrived, the heaviness in the air made your stomach twist.

Aaron wasn’t one to stumble over his words, but that night he did. “You mean the world to me,” he’d said, his voice breaking slightly. “But I can’t give you the life you deserve.”

You’d stared at him, stunned. “What are you talking about? We’re fine.”

“No, we’re not,” he said quietly, looking at you like it physically pained him. “You deserve someone who can be there for you, who isn’t constantly distracted by the job, who can give you all the things I can’t. And I... I can’t keep holding you back.”

His words shattered something in you. “I didn’t ask for perfect, Aaron. I asked for you.”

He closed his eyes, his jaw tight, and shook his head. “You’ll see, one day, that this is what’s best.”

You didn’t fight him after that. You couldn’t. And maybe some part of you even believed he was right. But that didn’t make it hurt any less.

--

For months, you carried that pain with you like a shadow. You buried yourself in work, throwing yourself into cases until you were so exhausted you couldn’t think about anything else.

It helped, a little.

But then Beth showed up.

The team was supportive of Aaron’s new relationship, of course. They were profilers—they could see how happy Beth made him, and they teased him lightly about it. Even Rossi, who had a knack for keeping things professional, cracked a joke now and then about Aaron’s “smiling problem.”

You played along, smiling and laughing at the right moments, even as it chipped away at you.

“You okay?” Emily asked one day, catching you lingering at the coffee machine longer than usual.

“Yeah, fine” you replied quickly, avoiding her eyes.

Emily didn’t press, but the look she gave you made it clear she didn’t buy it.

---

When the opportunity to work with the State Department in Pakistan came up, you jumped at it. The mission would take you halfway across the world for months, giving you the distance you desperately needed from Aaron, Beth, and the suffocating reminders of what you’d lost.

“It’s a great opportunity” you told the team, forcing a smile as you shared the news during a team meeting.

Morgan gave you a skeptical look. “You sure about this, kid? Seems... sudden.”

“I’m sure,” you said firmly.

Rossi, always perceptive, gave you a knowing look but said nothing.

Aaron, however, was harder to read. He’d been quiet during the meeting, his dark eyes flicking to you now and then, but he didn’t say a word.

Later, as the team dispersed, he stopped you outside the conference room.

“You’re really going?” he asked, his tone carefully neutral.

“I am,” you replied, meeting his gaze.

He hesitated, as if searching for the right words. “You didn’t mention you were thinking about this.”

“I didn’t think it mattered,” you said, your voice sharper than you intended.

Aaron flinched slightly, his jaw tightening. “Of course it matters.”

You sighed, softening your tone. “Look, this is a good opportunity for me. I need... a change.”

His eyes lingered on you for a moment longer before he nodded. “Be careful,” he said quietly.

---

Pakistan was everything you expected and more. The work was intense, the days long, and the challenges endless. But it was exactly what you needed. The distance, the change in pace, the focus on something new—it all helped you start to piece yourself back together.

And yet, there were nights when the loneliness crept in, catching you off guard. You missed the team. You missed Garcia’s bright enthusiasm, Morgan’s playful teasing, JJ’s steady calm.

You missed Aaron.

You told yourself you didn’t have the right to miss him, not after everything. But you couldn’t help it. You missed the way he grounded you, the quiet strength he carried even in the hardest moments.

---

Back in Quantico, Aaron found himself drifting. The bullpen felt emptier without you, and he hated how often he caught himself looking at your desk, expecting to see you there.

He tried to focus on work, on Jack, on his relationship with Beth. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the nagging emptiness you’d left behind.

Beth noticed, of course. She was too perceptive not to.

“You’ve been quiet lately,” she said one evening as they sat on the couch, a glass of wine in her hand.

“I’ve just been busy,” he replied, though they both knew it wasn’t the whole truth.

Beth studied him for a moment before setting her glass down. “It’s because she’s gone, isn’t it?”

He froze, his heart skipping a beat.

Beth sighed, setting her wine glass down. “I’ve always felt like I was competing with someone who wasn’t even here.”

“I’m sorry,” Aaron said quietly, his throat tightening.

“I know you care about me, Aaron,” Beth said gently. “But it’s not enough, is it?”

He looked at her, guilt and regret twisting in his chest. “You deserve better than this. Better than me.”

Beth nodded, her eyes sad but understanding. “And so does she.”

---

When you returned to Quantico, the familiarity was both comforting and suffocating. The bullpen buzzed with the usual energy—Garcia’s colorful office lights glowed from the corner, Morgan leaned casually against Spence's desk, and Rossi greeted you with his characteristic warmth. But despite the smiles and hugs, there was a lingering sense of unease.

You tried to shake it off. You were home now, and that was what mattered.

But then you saw Aaron.

He stood at the far end of the bullpen, just outside his office, his dark eyes locked on you. The usual stoicism in his expression faltered as you met his gaze, something softer, almost hesitant, bleeding through.

Your breath caught in your chest. It had been months since you last saw him, and yet it felt like no time had passed at all. He looked the same—polished suit, perfect posture, the slight furrow of his brow that you’d memorized years ago.

He started walking toward you, his steps slow and deliberate. You tried to prepare yourself for the moment, but when he finally stopped in front of you, the carefully constructed walls around your heart wavered.

“Welcome back,” he said softly, his voice carrying a gravity that made your pulse race.

“Thanks,” you replied, forcing a small smile, though your throat felt tight.

There was a beat of silence. The bullpen buzzed with life around you, but all you could focus on was him—the way his eyes lingered on your face, the way he seemed like he wanted to say something but couldn’t quite find the words.

“Can we talk?” he asked finally, his voice low enough that no one else could hear.

You hesitated. Part of you wanted to say no, to protect yourself from whatever this conversation might bring. But the way he looked at you—vulnerable and intent—made it impossible to refuse.

“Yeah,” you said quietly.

He led you to his office, holding the door open for you before closing it behind him. The sound of the latch clicking seemed to echo, amplifying the tension in the room.

You stood awkwardly near the desk while he lingered by the door, as if trying to keep some distance between you.

“How was it?” he asked, gesturing vaguely. “Pakistan, I mean.”

“It was... intense” you admitted. “Challenging, but good. It gave me a lot to think about.”

He nodded, his jaw tightening as he seemed to weigh his next words. “I’m glad you’re back.”

“Thanks” you said again, the word feeling hollow on your tongue. You couldn’t take the tension anymore. “Aaron, what did you want to talk about?”

His shoulders rose and fell with a deep breath, and when he finally looked at you, his eyes were heavy with regret.

“I owe you an apology” he said, his voice low and rough.

You blinked, startled. “An apology? For what?”

“For walking away” he said, stepping closer. His gaze held yours, steady but full of something you couldn’t quite name. “I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought letting you go would... would give you the chance to find someone better, someone who could give you what I couldn’t.”

Your heart clenched painfully at his words, but before you could respond, he continued.

“But I was wrong” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I thought I was protecting you, but all I did was hurt both of us. And every day you were gone, I felt it—I felt how wrong I was.”

You stared at him, your mind racing. “Aaron, I—”

“I missed you” he interrupted, taking another step closer. “Every day you were gone, I missed you. And I realized that I’d rather spend my life trying to be enough for you than spend another day without you.”

Tears blurred your vision, but you blinked them away, trying to process his words.

“You ended it” you whispered, your voice trembling. “You told me I deserved better.”

“I thought I was doing the selfless thing,” he admitted, his expression pained. “But all I did was rob us of the chance to fight for what we had. And I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

The rawness in his voice cracked something open inside you.

“Aaron, I...” You trailed off, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. “I don’t even know what to say.”

He stepped closer again, closing the remaining distance between you. “You don’t have to say anything. Just... tell me if there’s still a chance. If there’s even a small part of you that still feels the same way.”

His vulnerability was overwhelming. This was Aaron Hotchner—the man who never wavered, never let his guard down. And yet here he was, standing before you, baring his heart.

“I missed you too” you admitted finally, your voice breaking. “But I don’t know if I can do this again. I don’t know if I can survive losing you a second time.”

“You won’t” he said firmly, his hand twitching at his side like he wanted to reach for you but didn’t dare. “I know I don’t deserve it, but I swear to you, I won’t let you down again. I’ll fight for this—for us. Every day, if I have to.”

The sincerity in his voice, the way his dark eyes held yours, left you breathless.

And in that moment, you realized something: you still loved him. You always had.

Slowly, you reached for his hand, intertwining your fingers. His breath hitched at the contact, but he didn’t pull away.

“Okay” you said softly, your voice trembling but sure. “Let’s try again.”

Aaron’s shoulders sagged with relief, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled—a real, genuine smile that reached his eyes.

And as he squeezed your hand, you felt a flicker of hope that maybe, just maybe, this time would be different.

---

[violettwritess]

I hate that I still care pt.2 m.s

Part 1

Summary: when y/n has an unexpected visit would she follow her heart or her brain?

Warnings: Really long, angst, slight fluff at the end

Wc: 3k

English is not my first language

A knock on the door startled her, she sat up, her heart pounding in her chest, for a brief, fleeting second, she thought hoped it was Matt. That maybe he had come to fix things, to explain, to tell her he was sorry.

But when she opened the door…

There he was, standing in his hoodie, the one she had always stolen from him, the one that smelled like late night drives and whispered conversations that once made her feel like she belonged in his world, but now? Now, it felt different. His eyes, red and swollen told a story he had never bothered to say out loud, he was staring at the floor, not daring to meet her gaze.

“Matt?”

He snapped his head up to look at her, his heart racing like crazy, for a moment, he didn’t know how to approach her, how to even explain what had brought him here.

“Can I come in?”

Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at him, frozen in place, the very presence of him in her doorway, so vulnerable, so lost, made it impossible to think straight. Every part of her wanted to pull him inside, to ask him why, why now? Why did it had to come to this for him to finally show up?

He shifted on his feet, hands shoved deep in his pockets like he was trying to steady himself.

“Please, can I come in?”

His voice cracked, almost fragile, as if he feared she might slam the door in his face or, worse, turn her back on him completely.

Y/n gripped the edge of the door, her nails pressing into the wood, she could feel her heart beating louder than ever this was what she had wanted, wasn’t it? For him to show up, to fight for them, to finally show that he actually cared.

But now that he was here, standing in front of her like a broken version of the boy she had fallen in love with, she didn’t know what to feel, her pulse raced, torn between the part of her that wanted him in, wanted him to try, and the part of her that had already started to build walls so high she wasn’t sure she could tear them down again.

Without saying a word, she stepped back, just enough to let him inside, she didn’t trust herself to speak, to let him see how much it still hurt.

Matt hesitated, his eyes scanning the space like he wasn’t sure if he was welcome. He finally walked in, slow and uncertain, the familiar weight of her presence still hanging in the air between them, she shut the door behind him, crossing her arms as she turned to face him, her body a shield against the emotions she wasn’t ready to confront.

The silence was thick, suffocating, it wasn’t just all that time of unspoken words or unaddressed pain, it was the space that had grown between them over time, one text left unanswered, one moment ignored, until it had all collapsed. Finally, he spoke, his voice low.

“I didn’t know what to say”

Y/n let out a sharp breath, a humorless laugh escaping before she could stop it.

“That’s all you have to say?”

Matt ran a hand through his hair, fingers gripping the strands like he was trying to keep himself together.

“No- I mean, I-” He exhaled hard, shaking his head. “I screwed up”

Her arms tightened over her chest, bracing against the flood of emotions she was trying to suppress.

“Yeah, you did.”

His lips pressed into a tight line.

“I know I made you feel like you didn’t matter to me, I know I wasn’t there the way I should’ve been”

His voice cracked slightly, and for the first time, she saw it, the fear, the regret, the weight of everything between them pressing down on him.

“But you do matter to me. More than anything”

Y/n swallowed hard, the lump in her throat making it difficult to breathe, he wanted to believe him. God, she wanted to believe him so badly, but words were easy, they always were. So she just stared at him.

“Then why did it take all this time, all this pain for you to realize that?”

Matt’s face fell, his shoulders slumping like he had just been punched in the gut.

“I don’t know” he admitted, voice barely above a whisper. “I wish I did”

Silence again, but this time, it was different, se wasn’t angry. She was… tired, tired of the fight, tired of waiting, and most of all, tired of the silence that had filled every crack between them until it had become the loudest thing in their relationship.

She should’ve been angry, she was angry, but beneath all of it, there was something else, something raw, because this wasn’t the Matt she had been fighting to get the attention of. This was Matt, just Matt, standing in front of her, broken and terrified, completely real for the first time in a long time. And that was what made it hurt the most.

She let out a shaky breath. “Matt…”

He took a step closer, searching her face, as if looking for some sign that this wasn’t it, that there was still hope, still a way to fix everything.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just- I just couldn’t let it end like that”

Y/n blinked, her chest tightening. “Then how does it end?”

Matt held her gaze, his eyes pleading. “That’s up to you.”

Y/n stared at him, her heart pounding so loudly she could barely think, he was right, she had the power now. But it didn’t feel like a choice, it felt like a weight that threatened to crush her under its heaviness. The words That’s up to you he just blurted them out like it was that simple, like he had just placed everything in her hands after all this time, after all the nights she had spent waiting, wondering, convincing herself that he did care, that she wasn’t just another afterthought in his busy life.

She scoffed, shaking her head. “That’s not fair”

Matt’s brows furrowed. “What?”

She exhaled sharply, taking a step back, needing space.

“You don’t get to put this on me like it’s my decision alone, I’ve been deciding, Matt, I decided to fight for us when you wouldn’t, I decided to hold on when it felt like you were already gone, and when I couldn’t do it anymore, I decided to walk away”

Her voice wavered, but she forced herself to stay steady. “So don’t stand here and tell me it’s up to me. It was always up to you.”

Matt’s jaw clenched, he looked like he wanted to argue, like he wanted to tell her she was wrong, but he didn’t, because he knew. She saw it in the way his shoulders dropped, the way his lips parted slightly, like he wanted to say something but didn’t know how.

Finally, after what felt like forever, he whispered. “I was scared”

Y/N flinched at the rawness in his voice, he ran a hand down his face, exhaling shakily, “I know that’s not an excuse, I just- I didn’t know how to be what you needed, and instead of trying, I pulled away, I let you do all the work, and I convinced myself that was enough”

His voice broke. “But it wasn’t, and now I might’ve lost you for good”

Y/N swallowed hard, “Might’ve” Like there was still hope, like he still had a chance, and that terrified her, because she didn’t know if she could trust him with her heart again. Matt took a hesitant step closer.

“I don’t want to just be your friend, Y/n, I don’t want to lose you, but I also don’t want to keep hurting you” His eyes searched hers, desperate.

“Tell me what to do, tell me how to fix this”

Her throat tightened. “I don’t know if you can”

Matt’s face fell, and for the first time, she saw it, real fear, not just the fear of losing her, but the fear that he had already lost her. He opened his mouth, then closed it, like he was trying to find the right words, the right way to say what he needed to. But there was nothing left to say. Because love wasn’t just words, it was effort, it was showing up. And for so long, she had been the only one doing that.

The silence between them felt unbearable, Y/n could feel her pulse in her throat, her hands curled into fists at her sides just to keep them from shaking. Matt was looking at her like he was waiting for something, some kind of sign, some reassurance that this wasn’t it, but she had nothing left to give.

“You don’t know if I can?” he echoed, his voice barely above a whisper.

She let out a shaky breath. “No, Matt, I don’t”

His face crumpled for a second before he masked it, swallowing hard.

“Then let me prove it to you”

Y/n’s stomach twisted.

“You don’t get to say that now”

Her voice wasn’t loud, but the weight behind it made Matt flinch.

“You had every chance to show me, to make me feel like I was important to you, and you didn’t”

She shook her head, her throat burning.

“I can’t keep doing this, I can’t keep waiting for you to love me the way I needed you to all along”

Matt sucked in a breath like her words physically hurt, maybe they did.

“I did love you” he said, his voice breaking, “I do love you”

Y/n felt her heart squeeze at the way he said it, so raw, so desperate, but love wasn’t just a word. She blinked quickly, forcing herself to hold her ground.

“Then why did I always feel alone?”

Matt closed his eyes, like he couldn’t bear the truth in her words. She stepped back, wrapping her arms around herself.

“I don’t know if I have it in me to trust you again”

Matt’s eyes snapped open at her words, and for a moment, he looked utterly lost.

“Y/n, please…” His voice was rough, thick with emotion, “Tell me what to do, tell me how to fix this”

She exhaled sharply, looking away.

“You keep saying that, Matt, but that’s the problem, I shouldn’t have to tell you how to love me”

Her voice wavered, but she pushed through.

“I shouldn’t have to beg for the bare minimum”

Matt inhaled sharply, rubbing his hands over his face like he was trying to ground himself.

“I know” he whispered. “I know, and I hate that I made you feel that way”

He let his hands drop to his sides, his gaze searching hers.

“I swear, I never meant to make you feel like you were alone”

Y/n’s stomach twisted. “But you did”

She shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper

“And I don’t know how to come back from that”

Matt flinched, his breath hitching, his fingers curled into fists at his sides, like he was trying to hold himself together.

“So that’s it?” His voice was strained, cracking at the edges. “You’re just… done?”

Y/N hesitated. Because wasn’t that the worst part? That she wasn’t just done? That despite everything, there was still a part of her that wanted to believe he could change, that he could be the person she had needed him to be all along? But she couldn’t live on maybes anymore.

“I don’t know” she admitted, her voice small. “But I know I can’t keep hurting like this”

Matt swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing, his shoulders slumped like the weight of everything was finally settling on him.

“I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

Her heart ached at the rawness in his voice, but she held her ground. She had spent so much time waiting for him to realize, waiting for him to fight for them, but the longer she stood there, the more she realized how much of herself she had already given away. She swallowed, forcing herself to speak, even as the words felt like they were tearing her apart

“You’re not the only one who doesn’t want to lose this, Matt, but it’s not enough anymore, wanting something doesn’t make it right.”

Matt’s face twisted in pain, his eyes wide, and for the first time, she saw the depth of the regret he felt. He took a step closer, but Y/N took a step back, needing space, needing clarity.

“Please” he said again, his voice breaking.

“I didn’t realize… I didn’t understand how much I was hurting you until it was too late, I see it now, I see how much you’ve been carrying, and I can’t undo it, but I need you to know I’m sorry, I’m so sorry”

Her chest tightened, but she refused to let herself crumble.

“Sorry’s just a word, Matt, a word that doesn’t fix all the times you’ve made me feel invisible, sorry doesn’t make up for the nights I spent crying because you couldn’t be bothered to answer a text, sorry doesn’t bring back the time I wasted convincing myself things would get better”

His face softened, and she saw the regret there, real, tangible, but it wasn’t enough anymore.

“I can’t keep waiting for you to get it, Matt” Y/n continued, her voice steady even as the tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

“I can’t keep hoping things will change when it’s clear that we’re both holding onto something that doesn’t exist anymore”

The silence stretched between them again, heavy and suffocating.

“I don’t want to be just sorry, Y/n” Matt whispered. “I want to show you, I want to do better, I want to try for you”

His eyes were wide, desperate, searching her face like she held the answer. Y/n stood there, her heart heavy as she stared at Matt, her thoughts a whirlwind of everything they had been through, everything that had been said, is eyes were full of pain, regret, and a raw sincerity she couldn’t ignore. He was trying, he could see that.

“I can’t just forget, Matt” she whispered, her voice trembling with the weight of everything she was feeling.

“You can’t just come in here and say all the right things and expect me to believe you after everything that’s happened.”

Matt took a step forward, his hands shaking

“I know, I know I don’t deserve your trust, but please, just- just give me a chance to show you, I’ll do whatever it takes to prove it to you, I know I messed up, and I know I’ve hurt you, but I want to fix it, I want to make things right”

Y/n’s heart beat faster as the words swirled in her head, part of her wanted to say no, to close the door and walk away, to protect herself from the hurt he’d caused her, but another part of her, the part that had loved him so deeply, couldn’t let go. The love she had for him hadn’t disappeared, no matter how much she tried to convince herself it had. She inhaled sharply, her chest tight.

“You keep saying that, Matt, but words aren’t enough, I need more, I need you to show me, not just tell me, I need to know that you’ll actually be there when it matters, that I won’t be fighting for us alone anymore”

Matt’s eyes softened, and he nodded.

“I swear, I’ll show you, I’ll show you that I can be there, I won’t make the same mistakes, I- I love you, Y/n, and I need you in my life, more than anything”

Y/N’s heart fluttered at his words, but she still felt the weight of caution, she didn’t want to be hurt again, didn’t want to fall back into something that could break her again, but then she looked at him really looked at him, and saw the fear in his eyes, the vulnerability, the way he was standing there, completely laid bare, hoping that she would give him another chance. She swallowed hard.

“I don’t know if I can trust you again, Matt, I don’t know if I’m strong enough for that”

“I’ll prove it to you, every single day, I’ll do better, Y/n, I promise, you won’t have to fight alone anymore”

His voice cracked, and it felt like the weight of his words was crushing him, but he didn’t back down. Y/n closed her eyes for a moment, her mind racing. She had loved him so deeply, and no matter how much pain he had caused her, part of her still wanted to believe that they could be something beautiful again. When she opened her eyes, she saw him, standing there, broken, but willing to try. And maybe that was enough.

“Okay”

she said, her voice soft but steady. “But this has to be different, Matt, I can’t keep giving chances if you’re not willing to fight for it”

Matt’s face softened with relief

“I will, I promise”

And in that moment, Y/n knew that she was taking a leap of faith, that she was opening her heart again to the possibility of love, despite the fear that it might break her again. But maybe that was what love was, taking risks, being vulnerable, even when you’ve been hurt before.

As Matt stepped closer, she didn’t pull away, she let him in, letting her walls come down for the first time in so long.

“I’m not asking for everything to be perfect”

Matt whispered, his hand gently brushing against hers.

“But I’ll work every day to make sure you feel loved.”

And that was all she needed to hear.

She nodded, her heart still a little guarded but willing to trust again.

“Okay, Matt, let’s try again, but we take it one step at a time”

He smiled through his tears, pulling her into a gentle embrace.

“One step at a time, I’ll do whatever it takes.”

And in that moment, as Y/n closed her eyes, leaning into him, she realized that maybe, just maybe, second chances weren’t always a mistake. Maybe this time would be different.

[flowerandblood]

The Lost Haven (14/16)

[ modern mafia • Aemond x niece • female ]

[ warnings: incest obviously, unprotected sex content, kind of hate sex too, oral sex, fingering, smut, the angst, drug dealing, violence, uncomfortable conversations, bad, bad things ]

[ description: The vacation from eight years ago still haunts his memories and doesn't let him forget what happened between him and his niece, the daughter of his sister and Harwin Strong. Their paths separate and he immerses himself in his father's mafia world until the day she calls him for the first time since those events. Sexual tension, dark, dangerous, withdrawn, thirsty Aemond. ]

Author’s note: As promised, this is another, this time official modern version of The Fall from the Heavens. In this version, Daemon is not related to the family, but is simply Rhaenyra's husband and the leader of the second gang, Alys and Larys are also not related to each other, but Larys is Harwin's brother. I will partly refer to the original series, hiding some easter eggs, and some will be a completely new, fresh plot. As in every universe, only Aemond calls her Rhaenys and this is not her real name (she is unnamed character and the others also do not know that he calls her that). There will be a lot more brutality and angst in this version, so watch out. You can read this as a standalone story.

Series & Characters Moodboard Aemond & Rhaenys Moodboard

* English is not my first language. Please, do not repost. Enjoy! *

Next chapters: Masterlist

_____

She wasn't sure when she first felt it: that overwhelming, suffocating terror, the unpleasant, cold sweat on her back, the anxiety and fear. Just as in her childhood, such feelings were evoked in her by the darkness, mostly when she did not feel his warm body beside her, his safe arms not embracing her, his calm breath not enveloping her face.

She opened her eyes then, always feeling the same thing: panic.

Her fingers tightened on the duvet as she realised after a moment, semi-conscious, where and who she was, who she was actually waiting for and why he wasn't there.

An almost physical pain accompanied her as she realised that her uncle was not with her, that he had gone again to sink into his Hades, his World of the Dead, full of drugs, shootings and whores, something she never wanted to have anything to do with.

She would then look anxiously at her watch, counting the seconds, the minutes, the hours, flinching at every creak of the floor or sound in the stairwell, her heart pounding in the hope that it was him, that he had returned, that she would soon be able to sleep in peace again, wrapped in his arms and his wonderful, familiar scent.

He did not return, however, and as usual, when her despair reached its zenith her only thought was that he was dead.

That he wasn't coming back this time.

Even though she knew she shouldn't do it, she would then pull out her phone and call him with tears in her eyes, praying that he would answer, her breath stifling in her throat, when suddenly she heard his voice on the other end.

"What is it?" He asked impatient and frightened, as if he feared the worst.

That something had happened to her.

She was relieved because he was alive and didn't know how to act, how to explain the fact that she was actually bothering him with whatever he was doing for no reason.

"I woke up and you weren't in bed." She muttered in pain, listening to his quiet sigh of fatigue and understanding.

"I know. I'm sorry, baby. I didn't want to wake you up. I have to stay here for at least another hour."

She swallowed hard, glancing at her watch, seeing that it was one o'clock in the morning.

Another hour alone, in the emptiness of his flat, which felt foreign and cold without him.

Even with her things there, it didn't feel like home.

It was his flat, his space, his Hades, and she was just a visitor in his darkness.

"Why?" She asked like a small child, looking around her, again seeing the various frightening shapes in the objects that stood in the room.

She closed her eyes, trying not to think about it, repeating to herself that, after all, she had long since outgrown this fear, that monsters did not exist.

"I have a problem with one man. We are clarifying things, but he is…reluctant. He has taken a lot of money from me, but he has not given me what I need. I have to go. One more hour and I'll be back, I promise." He whispered in pain, and she swallowed hard, feeling her heart in her throat.

Had he just tortured someone?

No, he'd promised her he wouldn't do such things.

That he would do everything he could to avoid violence.

"Oh. Okay." She mumbled, unable to get anything else out, feeling even more terrified than the moment she had called him.

Her lower lip began to tremble when she heard him hang up, tears of fear and despair one by one began to run down her face.

She went into the living room, lay down on the sofa and turned on the TV: the sounds that came from it and the light it emitted made the space around her seem less frightening.

She thought she would just wait for him.

However, an hour passed, then another, and he still wasn't there.

She curled up on the couch and began to cry, tired and drowsy, at the same time unable to fall asleep, Vhagar lying next to her on the floor turning from time to time, having no similar worries to her.

She shuddered as she opened her eyes, still half asleep, feeling someone touch her, his familiar arms lifting her up.

"– easy – it's just me, little one –" He whispered tenderly, her hands and legs automatically entwined around him like vines, her heart full of pain and relief at the same time.

He was back.

She stared at him, breathing loudly through her mouth, at his familiar, beloved face, his sad look full of remorse, his fingers stroking her cheek tenderly.

"– you promised –" She mumbled, hurt and disappointed, his broad hand running over the skin of her warm face as his brow arched in pain.

"– I know, baby – I know – I'm here now –"

He always made love to her when he returned, no matter what state she was in. Even if she tried to push him away, to show him her anger and dismay, his hands and lips full of patience caressed her between her thighs until she fell apart in front of him.

He only took her when she was completely vulnerable, her cunt all slick and leaking from her peak offering him no resistance, even more delicate and sensitive to his every sharp thrust. She couldn't push him away then, craving only the embrace of his arms, his lips that devoured her in a thirsty, yearning kiss.

Their hands clenched desperately on their bodies, cuddling them into each other with loud grunts and moans escaping from their throats, wordlessly testifying to the fact that they both suffered the same way through the separations they experienced almost every night, finally being together again. She drew then on his sighs, his assurances and his pleasure, his gaze filled with an affection so deep it frightened her.

There was something beautiful in the fact that he was somehow devouring her, bit by bit.

The feeling of emptiness would only return when he disappeared again a few nights later.

In between, in the time when she woke up in his embrace, when she looked at his peaceful face in the sunshine, she had the feeling that she was a completely different person: everything made her happy.

In her presence, her uncle was gentle; that didn't mean he didn't get frustrated or that they always agreed, but sensing subconsciously that her words weren't meant to attack him, he reigned himself in and expressed the understanding she so desperately needed.

He did not treat her as his housekeeper or maid: together they went shopping, cleaned his flat, went out with Vhagar, did laundry. She enjoyed watching him from the sidelines as he did simple, prosaic tasks: cutting vegetables next to her, reading on the internet how to make a dish they liked, wondering aloud with her if he had just poured too much pepper into the pot.

"– fuck, so spicy –" He muttered when he tasted what he'd made with the sauce, but she decided when she tasted it herself that it wasn't so bad, and that pepper, unlike salt, was very healthy.

He chuckled at her words, looking at her with pity, as if he was wordlessly trying to tell her that she didn't need to show him mercy.

She noticed that he began to laugh and smile in her presence.

That he began to joke and tease her.

That they talked about things that were increasingly difficult and complicated, and that he didn't back down or avoid answering.

That he had changed.

And then his phone would ring again at night, and he would get up quietly, get dressed and leave.

It felt like she was regressing at that moment: all her childhood phobias, the terror of being left in the dark, were coming back to her with redoubled force, and although she didn't tell him, she would light the small lamp next to her bed, calling Vhagar to come inside, wanting to at least hear her breathing beside her.

Only when she heard the sound of the key turning in the lock did she turn off the light, afraid he would think she was being childish, and pretend to sleep until his hands sank into the softness of her body under her shirt, his lips against her ear, whispering:

"– I'm back, baby –"

A few days of sweet peace had lulled her vigilance again, and the appearance of his grandfather on his doorstep made her state of limbo between worlds collapse. As she locked herself in her room, where she didn't usually stay but kept most of her belongings and books, she began to reflect on the fact that although her mother had called her several times, she hadn't had the courage to answer her.

She didn't know what words to use, fearing that she would try to convince her to come home.

But there was no going back for her.

Not there.

It bothered her that this conversation had gone on for so long and she felt an overwhelming urge to overhear what they were talking about, but she held back, thinking that she should trust him, that he surely knew what he was doing. She jumped up on the bed when she heard the front door open and close, getting up uncertainly and stepped outside, looking at his silhouette from a distance.

He was bent over the countertop and had just had a glass of whisky despite it being so early.

Why?

She approached him uncertainly, feeling his aura, his rage and frustration.

"What did he want?" She asked, watching in horror as he filled his glass anew with alcohol.

"That I should come back. I didn't agree." He replied coarsely, not even looking at her.

She swallowed quietly, glancing sideways at him, her hand touching his shoulder seeing his gaze, frantic and wild.

"Aemond. What happened?" She mumbled and he looked at her in a way that made her feel a cold sweat on her back, a darkness and emptiness in his eyes, something she felt like running away from and hiding under the bed.

"Are you deaf?"

She stared at him with big eyes, feeling for a moment that she had lost her breath and her heart stopped. She turned away, moved ahead and closed herself in her room, locking the door behind her with the key, feeling that her hands were trembling.

Who was this man?

She naively thought that that look, that tone of voice was reserved only for his men, only for those with whom he had to talk rough, whom he had to press down and destroy, but not for her, never for her.

She sat on the bed, pulling her knees up to her chin, and sat like that, staring dully ahead, feeling shivers with every move or step he made on the other side.

He knocked on her door only hours later, when she was struggling to concentrate on reading one of her textbooks.

"– baby, I'm sorry – he brought me out of balance and I took it out on you – I shouldn't have done that – it's a hard subject for me – will you join me and Vhagar for a walk? –" He asked in a voice she knew well, the same one he had used after he had forcibly kept her in his family home.

In a voice filled with remorse.

She looked at the pages filled with text, thinking with surprise that she didn't want to go anywhere with him, didn't want to do anything with him, didn't want to have anything to do with him.

She thought the look was for everyone else, but not for her.

That she was special.

But she wasn't.

"– I'm reading a book – I'd rather stay home –" She said quietly, but loud enough for him to hear her.

A long silence answered her and she was afraid he would become furious, but he only swallowed hard, as if her words had hurt him.

"– okay – we'll be back soon –"

He made several more attempts to drag her out of the room, she however felt safe there, knowing that he could not violate her space by force and had to stand outside, waiting patiently until she wanted to look him in the eye again.

"– are you angry with me? –" He asked at last.

She felt tears under her eyelids thinking that she was not angry with him.

She was afraid of him.

But she wasn't sure if he would bear those words.

"– shall we watch something on TV? – I'll stroke your head afterwards before bed, just the way you like it – I'm sorry –" He mumbled out like a little boy, and she felt a squeeze in her heart knowing that he had already returned, that he was again the one she loved, the one she wanted, the one she had agreed to marry then, on that beach.

She looked at her bracelet made of candy and then at the scar underneath it, thinking that she was sure the man because of whom she had made it to herself had disappeared.

"– I think I'd rather spend the evening here – if that's okay –" She muttered in a breaking voice, feeling tear after tear run down her face, her lips quivering all over with emotion, with regret that she had to push away, if only for a moment, the man whose presence she craved incessantly, because she needed distance and a moment to breathe.

A sense that she, too, had something to say in a situation where everything really depended on him.

"– oh – okay – I'll be next door if you need me –" He replied, and she closed her eyes, pressing her lips into a thin line, trying not to make a sound, feeling her chest twitch with each of her quiet sobs.

And then, as the late evening fell, she saw him turn on the light in the hallway, heard him put on his jacket and shoes, and her heart stopped in her throat.

No.

"I have to go out. I don't know when I'll be back." He said loudly, and she jumped up from the bed as if burned, opening her door quickly, facing him, pale and shocked.

"– why? –" She mumbled with difficulty, thinking that she didn't want him to leave, that she just wanted him to let her be alone for a while, but for him to be next door, in the other room.

"– the policeman who was helping us was shot – Tyland is taking revenge for what I did to him – the consequences of my actions are slowly reaching me –" He muttered without strength, as if he was very tired and weary, something in his gaze that told her he had given up.

Tyland is taking revenge for what I did to him.

The consequences of my actions are slowly reaching me.

"Take me with you." She whispered, just wanting to make sure he was okay, that everything was under control, that she would be with him and not in an empty, dark, big, scary flat, counting down the hours and minutes until his return.

"No. I can't. I won't make the same mistake again. The more they are aware that you are not my temporary whim, the more danger I put you in." He said, and she shook her head, deciding that she didn't care what happened to her.

She could no longer stand the terrifying emptiness she felt when the door closed behind him and she was left alone in her cage.

"Then treat me like your whore in front of them."

She saw that his eyes grew big at her words, as if he couldn't believe they really came out of her mouth.

"What did you say?"

"Treat me as if you're bored with me. As if you hold me close just because I am Daemon's daughter. Be cold and chilly. You can hit me if you want." She said without thinking, deciding that it didn't matter anymore anyway.

In their eyes she was just his whore anyway, a deviant, a niece he had raped and made his sex toy out of.

"What? Do you want me to do it so you can find the strength to leave me? Reassure yourself of how fucked up I am?" He asked furiously, gesturing with his hands in a sign of impatience, his words like a cold shower that woke her up, making her realise what she was really afraid of and why she was so desperate to say something like that.

"I don't want to stay here alone, wondering if you're still alive. The fear I feel then no lamp can light up." She muttered with difficulty, feeling that she couldn't hold back the tears that flowed down her face.

His eyebrows arched in pain, as if it was only then that he understood what she was trying to convey to him, something in his gaze that told her he had hesitated, that he felt something, that there was hope.

"– I don't know, baby – God, I have to go – I –" He mumbled, and she nodded, not wanting him to think about it.

"– give me five minutes –" She said and disappeared out the door, looking for some of his hoodies in the wardrobe to put on, feeling relieved.

And then she heard his quick footsteps, the sound of the door opening and closing, the fact that he had shut it with a lock he knew she didn't have a key for.

She ran out into the corridor, looking at it, the symbol of her enslavement, and ran towards it as if she had lost her mind, bursting into a loud sob, banging on it as if she were a small child.

"– NO – NO, NO, NO, AEMOND, DON'T LEAVE ME ALONE – TAKE ME WITH YOU, PLEASE, DON'T LEAVE ME –" She shouted, choking on her tears, digging her short nails into the wooden structure, pounding on it with her fists only to fall to her knees.

"– I'M SCARED, I'M SCARED, I'M SCARED, PLEASE –" She whined, laying down on the floor, but he was gone.

She felt Vhagar run up to her, sniffing her anxiously only to lie down beside her a moment later and they lasted like that, an hour, or maybe more, lying cuddled together.

When she woke up, she was blinded by the light of the lamp in the corridor – she felt an unpleasant shiver and the fact that she was cold, so she picked herself up from the floor and went to her room. Vhagar moved behind her, apparently thinking that perhaps they would go out for a walk, however, even if she wanted to, she could not open the door now.

He had locked her in here.

She stared blankly at the ceiling, feeling a constriction in her chest, tears one by one running down the side of her face onto the pillow under her head, complete nothingness in her mind, darkness, as if there was not a drop of light left in her.

He didn't return until hours later – his silhouette that stopped in the doorway of her room was dark and tall, as if he were a demon, a nightmare, a demigod, a dream, but not human.

The touch of his hand on her skin, his fingers digging into her flesh, his lip that she bit, the taste of his blood on her tongue seemed at once completely foreign and wonderfully familiar to her.

"– no –" She breathed out, wanting to punish him, to push him away, to make him feel what she felt.

However, her body betrayed her, her pussy leaked under his fingers with desire and lust, with the need for him to embrace her and wrap her in the warmth of his body, for his hard manhood to sink deep into her again and soothe her.

"– I'm back – I'm here, baby – you can let go now –" He whispered, as if uttering some kind of spell or curse from which her body relaxed, allowing him to do what he wanted, to sink her into his darkness and take her for himself.

His voice seemed to come to her from afar, his fingers deep inside her hitting again and again the sweet spot between her throbbing muscles making her lose touch with reality, writhing beneath him in ecstasy.

"– being with me, you won't know freedom – I'm not in a position to choose between that and your safety – if that's what you want, I'll let you leave – but make love to me one last time –" He breathed out and she felt tears under her eyelids, her throat squeezed so tight she had trouble taking a deep breath.

If that's what you want, I'll let you leave.

I don't want leave, she thought.

I just want to be alone.

I want to be special to you, the only one in the world.

Beloved.

"– my sweet baby girl – my little sunshine –" He whispered, taking her for himself, the voracious, desperate stabs of his hips thrusting deep into her slick, hot opening, filling her with his seed with the loud click of her moisture, their breaths heavy and ragged, their embrace tight, full of desire to be reunited again.

His tears joined hers as he pressed his face to her cheek, his broad, familiar hand stroking her head, his breath raspy, surrounding her ear with warmth.

"– my grandfather – what he told me –" He whispered, and she froze, opening her eyes suddenly. "– he said that you wouldn't be able to bear this life, just like my grandmother – that you would commit suicide too – and I don't want to live in a world where you won't be there, even if you are no longer by my side –"

She hugged him tighter, feeling that she suddenly understood what had happened.

Why he had been so angry, why he had looked at her that way, why he had spoken to her that way.

He was terrified as much as she was.

This realisation, the fact that she wasn't the only one living in fear was both depressing and liberating for her, the weight of his words and the emptiness she felt inside her seemed to pull her lower and lower.

When she woke, the sun was just rising – his arms were embracing her from behind, her hand on his palm, his warm breath enveloping her neck.

She knew that something inside her had snapped, that if she just stayed and claimed that nothing had happened, their whole lives would start to crumble around them, and he would feel it.

She stood up quietly and looked at him, putting her hand in the pocket of his trousers. She swallowed hard when she felt the keys to the house by the sea underneath them and took them out quietly, praying he wouldn't wake up.

She didn't know how she would then explain to him what she wanted to do and what it meant to them.

She pulled her hoodie over her head and, dressed only in his sweatshirt, shorts and trainers, with her small backpack in which she had only her keys, wallet, phone and charger, she quietly left the house and closed the door behind her, seeing the look of concern of Vhagar standing in the corridor, not understanding why she had not taken her with her.

Sitting on the bus, she wondered what he would feel when he woke up.

Disappointment?

Anger?

Helplessness?

What she felt every time he left?

She wondered if she should leave him any kind of message, but as much as she wanted to, she wouldn't know what she should write him on it. She felt that she was stuck, unable to either move backwards or forwards.

She knew she loved him and she knew she was miserable.

When she arrived, the sky was cloudy, as if the world around her reflected her state of mind. She only had time to step inside the large, empty house and felt her phone vibrate.

She knew he was awake.

Was he angry?

Desperate?

She unlocked the screen with a trembling hand and swallowed hard to see couple unanswered calls and one message from him.

She closed her eyes, understanding what he was asking, feeling that part of her wanted to do this for him, to reassure him him that she was okay, but she knew how it would end.

He would write another message, then another and another, and she would give in to him and let him come.

She needed to clear her mind, she needed the solitude she had condemned herself to, not forced into.

When she walked into his old room she put her small backpack on the floor and lay down on his bed, looking towards the window. As she looked around she felt a squeeze in her heart at the thought that when she was a child it felt like there was so much space, but now she felt it was cramped.

She reached her hand to the shelf standing next to his bed and smiled, taking from it one of the small volumes telling the adventures of the Mighty Vhagar. She flipped through page after page of tales of the Prince and his beloved Rhaenys travelling across distant lands on their dragons, feeling tears of emotion and melancholy pool under her eyelids, clutching her throat.

The Prince, though fearless and relentless, feared, watching the other powerful dragon riders for his beloved's life; her dragoness, Larax, was beautiful, her scales silvery blue, glistening in the sunlight, her figure slender and light, sailing beside him across the sky. However, what made Larax different from Vhagar was size – Vhagar was gigantic like a stone fortress, yet Larax was small and delicate. And so, although his Rhaenys deeply desired to visit the neighbouring Kingdom, he never agreed, knowing that it was a barbaric people, riding dragons that were shrill and terrifying, which he himself feared, though he did not speak of it. He, as a Prince, would travel to this dark land with his father the King, thus keeping the peace, and she would cry when he left her. "Weep not, my dearest," he said, "my heart remains with you."

She closed her eyes, feeling the heavy tears one by one run down her cheeks straight onto the sheets of paper, onto the pages filled with beautiful illustrations of dragons and their riders, stories they had read with hot cheeks all evenings.

She spent the day walking on the beach – the squeals of the seagulls around her and the hum of the sea simultaneously calmed her and filled her with sadness. She put her arms around herself, feeling the coolness of the wind seep through her body, involuntarily smelling his scent as soon as she touched the fabric of his sweatshirt.

It was as if a part of him was still with her.

She looked at the bracelet she had received from him, an expression of his love, so childish, naive.

Innocent.

And yet so dark at the same time.

And then the night came.

Even though she slept in his bed, under his duvet, even though she could smell him, she was afraid: she was not afraid of monsters now, however, but of what was going on inside her head.

Where was she supposed to go back to?

Who was she supposed to be?

What was she supposed to do?

She felt that a sense of meaning had slipped through her fingers: she realised that without her mother, her father, her uncle, her professor, she was nothing.

What kind of person was she really?

What were her values?

What did she want?

For eight years she had only dreamed of being with him again, but she had never thought about what that would look like.

What she would have to sacrifice.

She didn't want to betray him, abandon him – never – but she was terrified of living in constant fear of losing him again.

Of hearing the news that someone had shot him in the head, just as he had once done to Larys.

The next day she woke up even more tired than when she fell asleep: she had nightmares all night.

She dreamt of a monster coming out of the wardrobe, dark, tall and long, who just stood over her and watched her, and she couldn't say anything or scream.

She realised that this was the personification of what she feared most.

The inability to react, to make a move.

The cage.

The fact that she had received another message from him and how he was suffering did not help her.

She didn't know what she was supposed to answer him.

"I'm alive"?

Wouldn't he then feel that she no longer loved him? That she had only written him off so that he would give her a break?

She didn't want that.

She didn't want him to suffer.

Sitting on the beach for hours, gazing at the horizon, she thought of a way out of the deadlock she was in, something that might make her regain control of her life, the feeling that she was co-determining what was happening to her.

But there was a void in her mind, and that scared her the most.

That there was no path in her life in which she could be truly happy.

That she was doomed to wither like a flower, to die while she was alive.

Part of her wanted to give up, to call Daemon and tell him to take her home: however, what kind of life would await her there?

Jace would never forgive her. They would all pretend that nothing had happened, but they would certainly be disgusted with her in reality. After all, she'd fucked her own uncle, run off with him even though he'd hurt her, fooled her, humiliated her.

It was hard for her to understand how one man could combine so many contradictions: her uncle. It seemed to her, although she recognised that this could only have been the result of her vanity, that in her presence he was revealing a part of himself from the past that he had locked away. He was rediscovering a gentle, tender touch, a soft tone of voice, a calm gaze, a lightness in breathing, as if to remind himself that what his men had seen was only a mask.

But was that really the case?

Or was she merely telling herself this to make herself feel better, to look at his stone-cold face when he spoke to them without feeling terror?

That he wasn't pretending at the time.

That he was the other part of himself then.

A monster from the wardrobe.

Could she love someone who soothed and terrified her at the same time?

Or did he need her to subdue that side of himself, to save himself from falling?

In the end, she knew that he himself was afraid of the dark.

She thought sadly, looking at her hands, that they were both just as hopelessly lost, standing on the margins, unable to find a place or purpose for themselves, feeling an eternal, never-ending shame since they were little children.

That night a storm broke loose: lightning struck close to home, thunder shook the ground, loud and dangerous, making her curl up in bed in fear.

And then she heard it: the creaking of the floor.

She clamped her hands on the sheets, swallowing hard and listened with her heart beating in panic, recognising that the sound was coming from the floor below the room.

She drew in the air loudly when she heard it again, this time more clearly, as if someone was coming up the stairs: she picked up her backpack, slid to the floor and hid under the bed, exactly as she had done when she was a small child.

She closed her eyes, feeling the tears of terror one by one run down her face, clenching her lips to make sure no sound came out, thinking it was just a bad dream, nothing more.

And then someone opened the door.

She stared ahead with big eyes, feeling her heart in her throat, begging in her mind that she could just melt into the floor, disappear, dissolve into the air, the footsteps beside her getting louder and clearer, making her realise it wasn't a nightmare.

And then a silhouette knelt beside the bed and she recognised his face.

He was looking at her exactly as he had when he first found her: his gaze expressed shock and compassion, his brow arched in pain, as if he himself wanted to cry.

"– Rhaenys – oh, baby –" He mumbled with a breaking voice, reaching out to her, and she crawled to him quickly, bursting out crying as soon as he enclosed her in the embrace of his familiar, safe arms.

"– I'm sorry –" She cried out, whooping with tears, feeling that her whole body was trembling from fear, sadness, disappointment, the suffering caused by their separation. "– I'm sorry – I didn't know what to do –"

He hushed her, kissing the top of her head again and again, his hands stroking tenderly through her hair and down her back, cuddling her into him, his wonderful scent filling her nostrils giving her relief.

"– no – it's okay – I found you, little one – you're safe now –" He whispered, and she nodded quickly, tightening her hands on his leather jacket.

She felt him take her in his arms and lift himself up, exactly as he had done then, laying down on the bed with her. He pulled off his shoes and jacket before his shaking hand touched her cheek again, as gently and slowly as if she were made of glass.

He gave her one tender, warm look full of relief before his warm, full lips pressed against hers in the sweetest, gentlest kiss she had ever experienced in her life.

He gasped when her fingers ran over his neck, when her body pressed against his, when her lips parted in front of his, trailing over their fleshy structure, just teasing them. She heard his shuddering sigh, felt his hand sink into her hair, combing through it with tentative, affectionate strokes full of hope, the tips of their tongues touched and licked, making her shudder.

There was something perverted and obscene in those kisses alone, in the way their lips, swollen with desire, melted together again and again with the quiet clicks of their saliva as all she could hear around them was the tapping of raindrops against the window.

She thought that only in his arms she was not afraid.

Only in his arms did it all make sense.

The affection, the suffering, the sacrifice, the pain, the joy, the sadness.

It all came down to his person.

"– I love you –" She whispered into his mouth and heard him sigh, his hands clenched tightly on her body, craving those words like nothing else. "– that's all I know –"

His tongue slid deep between her teeth, coming out to meet hers, as if he couldn't take any more of the feeling that was tearing their hearts apart, his hands pulled her closer, allowing her to feel the hard, throbbing bulge in his trousers on her stomach.

She moaned involuntarily into his throat, feeling her nipples harden with sweet desire, the space between her thighs all swollen, producing moisture in response to his treatments.

They said nothing more to each other – his hands slid under the fabric of her hoodie, roaming lazily over the bare, smooth skin of her back, her waist, her thighs. He wasn't in a hurry; she felt that after this sudden, terrifying, shocking separation he wanted to enjoy this moment, the feel of her body under his fingers, everything she was and had become to him.

He pulled away from her to look at her, his free hand stroking her jaw – his thumb ran over the line of her cheekbone as his gaze traveled all over her face, a hot, tender feeling in his healthy eye from which her heart fluttered in her chest. She clenched her thighs together, feeling the tension, just looking at his parted lips, hearing his broken, accelerated breathing, feeling his manhood pushing again and again against her lower abdomen.

When his fingers rubbed against the material of her panties she merely nodded, and he took a breath, pressing his thirsty, moist lips against hers again, pulling them off her thighs with a few sure tugs. He didn't unzip his trousers, however – instead, his fingers sunk tentatively between her thighs into her warm folds, drawing a surprised, girlish moan from her throat.

"– shhh – shhh, baby, it's okay –" He murmured into her mouth, sighing with delight as her cunt leaked under his hand, hot and eager, the tips of his fingers wandering lazily around her swollen, sensitive clit made her roll her hips, needing more, harder.

"– please –" She mumbled, throwing her arms around his neck, allowing herself to drift off completely into the pleasure his painfully slow, sure touch was giving her, his movements deliberately gentle, not giving her what she needed.

The corner of his mouth twitched in satisfaction when he noticed something in the expression on her face that told him she would give herself to him completely, his free hand tightening on her hair.

"– I'd rather use my mouth down there – but I want to look into your eyes when you come –" He whispered in a way from which she felt a drop of cold sweat run down along her spine, her lips parted involuntarily in a pathetic moan as the tips of his fingers dug firmly into her silky folds at last.

There was something unsettling and frightening about his dark, defiant gaze, the way it was fixed confidently in her eyes, not allowing her to turn or move away, just to simply take what he was giving her. Her fingers tightened on his black T-shirt as he finally sped up, with each circle around her clit rubbing her throbbing opening, weeping in desire, begging for his attention.

She closed her eyes and gasped as she felt the tips of his two fingers push against her slit, stretching her swollen pussy on their thickness, receiving her quiet cries of desire in return. His hand tilted her head back, his breath heavy and hot on the skin of her face.

"– no – look at me –" He breathed out, his gaze dark and hot with desire, his fingers hitting her sweet spot again and again making her walls begin to clench around their length in convulsions.

"– Aemond –" She cried out and his mouth was immediately on hers, devouring her with greedy, loud, sticky kisses full of his tongue and panting, his fingers pounding into her in a relentless, fierce rhythm making her feel a wonderful tingling in her lower abdomen, in her lips, in her nipples, her pussy beginning to clamp down on them, close to fulfilment.

She squealed and mewled, feeling the tears of relief one by one run down her cheeks as she suddenly reached her peak, her hazy gaze barely able to see his face, his black eye staring at her as if he was seeing a woman orgasm for the first time, wide open in delight and satisfaction.

She felt him slide his fingers gently out of her hot, throbbing insides, hearing the sound of his belt and zipper being undone a moment later, letting the fingers of his hand stretch her slit to the sides, allowing his full, fat cock to slide easily into her without any resistance.

He groaned in relief when he was finally inside her, positioning himself so that the movements of his hips were enough to sink him again and again between her hot walls, leaking from her fulfilment, letting his hands embrace her and cuddle her into him.

He panted into her ear, focused only on himself and his sensations, with lazy, slow thrusts opening her again and again on his swollen length, teasing again her spongy spot inside her, now oversensitive and delicate.

His touch was surprisingly tender, light, devoid of aggression; it made her feel relaxed, herself taking pleasure in feeling him deep inside her, in the way his face sank into the hollow of her neck, his lips brushing her skin encouragingly.

"– oh baby – mmm – my little girl – ah, God, yes –" He gasped, speeding up, chasing his fulfilment without thinking about how long he should last to feel masculine enough, experienced enough, confident enough.

Something about knowing that with her he wasn't worrying about such things, that he was just being, reaching for what he really wanted with a few sloppy, messy thrusts reaching his peak with a sigh of delight, made her simply close her eyes, focusing on how hard he was pulsing inside her, filling her with his release.

They lay snuggled into each other, panting quietly, not saying anything or moving, just lingering in that most natural state for them, where their bodies were entwined together to form one person.

"I know how to fix this, baby. Do you trust me?" He asked in a whisper, and she opened her eyes and blinked, surprised to feel her heart hit harder in her chest.

"What do you mean?" She asked just as quietly, trailing her fingers down his back, pressing her face into his neck, smelling of his aftershave and cigarettes. He swallowed hard, as if gathering his courage, and kissed her forehead.

"I will give you back the premises that belonged to your father."

She froze, not understanding for a moment what he meant, and looked at him, trying to make out anything on his face.

"What?"

"Before Larys took over their entire family business, your father had three establishments: Harrenhal Club, Twins Club and Eagle's Nest Hotel. He got to the point, wanting to get as far away from drug smuggling as possible, that the people working there were reluctant to go back to their old ways. Larys forced them to do so, but most of the best workers fled to my grandfather or Daemon. I didn't know for a long time what to do with these places, but now I think I should just pass them on to you. That will make you able to take part in some of our conversations as an associate, like Baratheon does, for example. I will assign you some of my men to protect you. Some of them are tired and want peace and quiet for themselves and their families. Your presence, the fact that you are with me and at the same time you are Daemon's daughter gives us the assurance that you will not be attacked from any side."

She listened to him in disbelief, thinking, touched, that he was serious.

He wanted to give her some of his power, some of what her father had worked for, so that she would feel that she was not completely dependent on him.

She would be part of his world, not delving into the darkest side of it.

"What about Jace? Luke? He was their father too." She mumbled, thinking that would surely make them hate her even more.

She heard her uncle grin.

"I don't give a shit about them."

She swallowed hard, looking him straight in the eye, seeing the certainty in his gaze that made her feel hot.

"I won't have to store your drugs or sell them?" She muttered, and he shook his head.

"No. You'll just be giving us cover for our meetings from time to time. Nothing illegal that would burden you." He whispered in a trembling voice, looking at her expectantly like a child waiting for praise.

"You'll really do it?" She asked, and he nodded, licking his lower lip.

"Yes. Yes, if you come home with me. We'll go to the notary tomorrow, make it official." He said, excited that she hadn't rejected his idea.

What he was saying simultaneously pleased and horrified her.

"After all, none of them will want to listen to me. They won't respect me. I'm just a little girl, what do I know about their tough world?" She asked, shrugging her shoulders, realising that it all only sounded simple.

"I'll help you. Just like you helped me with my studies. I will teach you everything. They'll respect you, first for the sake of me and your two fathers, and then for the sake of you when they realise you'll protect them and not drag them into this shit." He said looking her straight in the eyes, something in his certainty, the warmth that emanated from his voice made her eyes glaze over with tears.

"Shall we try?" He mumbled, his haze full of hope.

She nodded her head and hugged him, his arms closing her instantly in a tight embrace.

"I love you. Everything is going to be okay. I promise." He whispered.

And she believed him.

[mika-mp3]

The treasure is all mine!

-Prologe- (Chapter one, chapter two) Genshin Impact x Creator!Reader

warnings: first post ever! almost swear word, the most classic start to a SAGAU fic ever (Im sorry I dont know hot to start else), no y/n used, gender neutral ,english isn't my first language so propably spelling errors, I don't know how Aranaras talk. (I professionally ignored that quest.), characters might turn yandere in the future

summary: After playing TCG your screen becomes strangely white. It starts glowing brighter and brighter and the light seems to suck you in? That can't go wrong... right? Suddenly you find yourself in a forest, not remembering anything but meeting a little creature that might be able to help you out

characters: you, your mom (no this is not a joke), aranara!oc: Aramasu

word count: 1.359

wattpad version here

https://pin.it/38Diiq1CA

"THIS BI-" you yelled at the screen. The third time. The third time you lost at that damn card game, and the third time you got annoyed because of it. "How?? How can this be so hard? It's the same technique I always use when I play normally! It works against bosses; why not now in the Genius Invocation TCG? I was so close this time too!" With a frustrated sigh, you let your head fall back. On the screen was still the word "defeat," big and plastered onto a red background for extra drama. Seriously, who had this idea? It's just frustrating at this point. Not even the recommended teams online seemed to work. You even tried copying the other players' teams that defeated you, but you still lost anyway. Why were you doing this again? Oh right... rewards.

Another sigh escaped your mouth when you heard your mother's voice from the kitchen. "Darling! Come down, dinner is ready!" A small smile crept on your face. 'Darling,' a nickname your mom gave you whenever she was in a good mood. Seems like work was quite alright today.

"Coming!" you answered, the dinner smell already reaching you by the time you finally mustered up the courage to sit up. Looking at the screen one last time, you decided to stop playing Genshin Impact for today. You had already done your dailies and everything else you felt like doing. Seriously though, doing dailies started to feel like a chore. That's why you were more than happy to open chests and explore instead. Standing up, you turned the game off and watched the screen go black.

Or... did it?

You were just about to leave the room when it lit up once more, but not with the loading screen, just plain white. "What the..." A bright white light filled the room, instantly blinding you. With your hands lifted before your eyes, you managed to get closer. "What is this?!" you said, a bit of fear in your voice. This had never happened before! You didn't even know that your screen could be so blinding! Just when you were about to touch it, everything went dark. Dark and warm. That's all you felt. Looking around frantically, you tried to make sense of the situation. It was still bright outside, so it shouldn't have been so dark now! Maybe just the aftermath of the blinding light?

"Darling, are you okay?" You heard a voice in the distance, but it felt oddly far away, as if it went further and further away with every word spoken. "M-.. Mom?" you asked, but there was no answer. It was still very warm. So warm. Slowly, you felt yourself grow weaker and weaker. Soon your knees gave in, but you didn't fall while your eyes closed shut. Before you could say anything else, your consciousness had already left your body. . . . . So... comfy. It was so warm, like on a sunny summer day when you lie down on the grass and just enjoy the fresh air. Talking of which, whatever you lay on felt just as nice. The sounds of birds could be heard in the distance. After a couple of minutes, you opened your eyes and saw...

A vast expanse of vibrant green, stretching out before you. You're lying on a bed of soft moss, the texture cushioning your body like the most luxurious mattress. Above, a canopy of trees sways gently in the breeze, their leaves creating a symphony of whispers. Sunlight filters through the branches, casting dappled patterns of light and shadow that dance around you.

You sit up slowly, feeling the softness of the moss beneath your fingers. The air is filled with the sweet scent of blooming flowers and the earthy aroma of the forest floor. You take a deep breath, the freshness of the air invigorating you. The sounds of chirping birds and the distant babble of a stream create a soothing background melody.

As you look around, the forest feels both alien and familiar. Massive trees with trunks wide enough to house entire rooms rise majestically around you. Their leaves are an array of colors, from the deepest greens to shimmering golds, reflecting the sunlight in a magical display. The forest floor is dotted with flowers of every hue, some glowing faintly, adding to the otherworldly atmosphere.

Confused, you try to remember how you got here. The last thing you recall is the blinding white light from your screen and your mother calling you for dinner. Your thoughts are interrupted by the feeling of something soft nuzzling your hand. Looking down, you see a white rabbit, its fur pristine and its eyes large and expressive. It seems completely at ease, cuddling against your hand as if it belongs there.

With a gentle touch, you stroke the fur of the rabbit. It nuzzles into your hand, happy and content. A gentle smile spreads across your face. Have you ever felt so at peace before? It's hard to say when you don't remember anything from before. Not like it matters now. Nothing matters. There is no reason to question anything at all. Not why this wild rabbit is so calm and cuddly with you, not scared at all. Not why you don't feel certain things, like hunger or thirst. It's all so nice and warm and cozy.

Wait, there is something. Some feeling, not very familiar, but you still recognize it. Are you being watched?

Yes. No, no, it can't be that. Probably? Turning around, you scan your surroundings. All the bushes, the trees, and their leaf crowns, then you see it.

It isn't threatening, more weirdly familiar than anything. The small creature is floating above the ground with a little cute 'hat'? One word pops into your head as the creature comes closer: 'Aranara.' But how do you know that? It feels natural, like knowing the name of a dog or cat. Aramasu. This little Aranara's name is Aramasu.

"You're not a Nara," says the curious creature.

You answer, "No, I am no Nara. That's what I believe, at least."

With a soft smile, you reach out, cupping the little Aranara's face. It looks up, surprised, almost speechless. The warmth soothing through its body by the mere touch of you.

"What might you be doing here, little Aramasu?"

The rabbit, still cuddled up in your other hand, seems very happy with the encounter. The Aranara isn't surprised that you know its name; it feels truly natural.

Aramasu's eyes widen slightly, then it relaxes into your touch. "I was just wandering, like I always do. But today felt different. The forest whispered to me of a new presence, something... special."

You look around; the forest seems to glow with a subtle, otherworldly light, as if acknowledging Aramasu's words. The trees sway gently, and the air is filled with a soft, harmonious hum. It feels as though the entire forest is alive and aware of your presence, welcoming you in a way that goes beyond mere coincidence.

"Special?" you ask, intrigued. "How so?"

Aramasu tilts its head, studying you with a curious expression. "You have a light within you, one that resonates with the heart of the forest. It's warm and soothing, like the embrace of the earth itself. It's rare to see such light in anyone other than the forest spirits."

The rabbit nudges your hand, drawing your attention back to its soft fur. You feel a sense of contentment and belonging, unlike anything you've ever experienced—or at least, anything you can remember. The forest, the creatures, even the very air around you, all seem to sing in harmony with your presence.

"Perhaps," Aramasu continues, "you are more than what you think you are. The forest recognizes you, and so do I."

As you ponder Aramasu's words, a sense of purpose begins to stir within you. Though you may not remember your past, the present feels vivid and alive, as if this is where you were always meant to be. The forest, with all its mysteries and wonders, seems to be waiting for you to discover your true self.

-to be continued-

https://pin.it/3bEkLA0wa

Thank you so much for reading! Fell free to give me feedback and ideas how to continue this!

Mika

[veevrsee]

❝ ⎯⎯ Off Brain, On Heart ! ꞌꞋ ࣪ 투어스 　❞

┈ With them, you don't think. Six different ways to surrender to the gentle control of those who treat you as their center... without you having to lift a finger.

› Pairing: TWS x 7thmember!Reader

› Word Count: 6.3K

› Warning: Soft dominance from the members. Fluff

┈ Note ! ꞌꞋ Hi, I'm back. I honestly don't know what this is, I just wanted to imagine how TWS would be protecting and taking care of her member and s/o, with my guilty taste as it is non-sexual domination, with them I did it softer than I thought but in the end I ended up melting for all of them (Shinyu and Youngjae...🫠🫠). I was hesitant to add to the maknae line, but I don't regret it, I loved Kyungmin's (completely identified🫡).I might make a version in which the roles are reversed… I don't know yet.

I also want to clarify that English is not my first language, so there will probably be several typos or it will look very formal; an apology for that. Without further ado I hope you like it and have a nice night/day.

vee﹒ᵔᴗᵔ﹒

Shinyuㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤShin Junghwan !

He guides you with his hand on the small of your back when you enter a room.

The hallway leading to the set was filled with voices, cameras adjusting their lenses and lights flashing like artificial stars. The atmosphere was noisy, almost chaotic, but in the midst of that whirlwind, Shinyu moved with the calm of someone who always knows where he's going.

And not just for him.

For you.

As soon as you crossed the front door, his hand descended with almost calculated precision towards your back. It wasn't a casual brush, it was a silent, firm guide, perfectly placed right at the base of your back, there where the skin is most sensitive, where the touch may seem innocent… but it's not.

He did it with such natural fluidity that any camera capturing the scene would only see a leader making sure her teammate didn't get lost in the crowd. But you felt differently. You knew him too well not to notice.

His warmth.

His precise pressure.

The way his fingers molded to you as if molding you to their own rhythm.

—Come on —he whispered softly, like a gentle command disguised as politeness.

And you followed him, of course.

Because that's how it was with him. Always one step ahead, but never far away.

Always protecting you without encroaching, guiding you without demanding.

Sometimes his fingers would barely flex when someone passed too close to you. Not out of jealousy -he trusted his members completely- but because of that natural instinct he had to make sure you always knew who was by your side. That you felt his presence like an invisible shield, even with cameras watching.

Because yes, you were in public.

Yes, you had eyes everywhere.

But still, Shinyu would always find a way to touch you in a way that only you would understand the true meaning. That hand on your back wasn't just companionship.

It was a silent promise: "I am here. I take care of you."

He makes decisions without asking you, but he always gets it right (he knows you so well that you don't even need to give him an opinion).

The spotlights were pointed directly at the couch where the seven were seated. Friendly voices, soft laughter and prepared answers filled the air as the interview progressed smoothly. You spoke naturally, a smile on your face, but between words you let out a small, almost imperceptible sigh.

Maybe it was just tiredness.

Maybe thirst.

But he noticed.

From his place, Shinyu looked at you from the corner of his eye. Not out of curiosity. Out of habit. Because you were always at the center of his attention, even if it didn't seem so. He got up with quiet movements, as if to stretch a bit or to get something for himself.

No one was alarmed.

No one was suspicious.

You did.

Without even looking at you, he went to the small table where assorted drinks rested. His fingers moved with eerie precision: he grabbed your favorite, added just the amount of ice you preferred when you were tired, adjusted the sugar because he knew you by heart.

He wasn't doing it like it was some great feat. He was doing it like someone who has your taste tattooed on his skin.

He returned to the sofa, sat down as if it were nothing and held out the glass without looking at you, with that strategic neutrality he mastered so well.

—Here —he murmured, without raising his voice.

The gesture seemed nondescript.

To others, perhaps even tender, but without suspicion.

But you felt his fingers brush yours with that premeditated softness, the warmth that lingered on your skin even after the contact was gone.

His half-smile peeked out, briefly, and disappeared before anyone noticed it. But you saw it. And you knew.

Because to you, Shinyu wasn't just a fellow who knew you. He was that kind of man who never asked because he always knew. And not for controlling... but for knowing.

For observing you so much, so intensely, that he could anticipate you in every detail. And even in the midst of the noise, the cameras and the fans, he still cared for you like a precious secret that no one could fully understand.

He hugs you from behind with his chin on your shoulder, transmitting silent protection.

It was all over.

The music, the lights, the screams of the audience. All that remained was the echo and the sigh of the adrenaline going down. You walked away in silence, looking for air, a bit of shade among so much euphoria. The backstage corridors were a world apart: less bright, quieter, but no less guarded. Staff still walking, technicians disconnecting cables, cameras capturing extra footage.

You were there, your back to the world, when you felt it.

Shinyu.

He arrived unannounced, with calculated steps and silent presence. There were no words. Only the weight of his arms that slid around your body from behind, enveloping you slowly, with that mixture of firmness and tenderness that was so his. His chest pressed against your back with brutal security. His chin found your shoulder as if it were a natural fit.

No one seemed to notice the gesture. At first glance, it could pass for a show of companionship, a discreet “good job” between members sharing stage and effort.

But it wasn't that. You knew it. And so did he.

His hands rested calmly on your abdomen, his quiet breathing synchronized with yours. For an eternal moment, no one else existed.

Just the two of you.

Shared silence.

Bodies intertwined in a way invisible to the rest, but so clear to you.

—You did amazing —he whispered in a voice so low you barely heard it. And yet, I knew it cut you to the bone.

He did not stay long. Shinyu was careful.

But before releasing you, he left one more brush on your arm, like an invisible trace marking his presence. As if to say, "Even when I can't hold you in front of everyone... I'm still here. I'm still yours."

And as he walked away, he didn't look back. He didn't need to. He knew you felt it. And you knew, without a doubt, that he would be behind you always.

No matter who was around.

Dohoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤKim Dohoon !

He covers your ears with his hands when there is noise, as if you were his priority.

The stage was shaking with the excitement of the moment.

The screams from the audience echoed like a constant sea, and the cameras kept moving. Everyone was tense, waiting for the announcement of the winner, nerves running under their skin. Next to him, you were still, serene on the outside, but Dohoon didn't need to see you tremble to know that the burst of confetti and streamers would make you startle.

He had already watched you on other stages.

He knew how you closed your eyes a second before the bang, how you subtly pressed your hands against your thighs so you wouldn't cover your ears like a child. You knew how to hide it well.

But he didn't like you getting used to enduring things alone.

So when the presenter began to lift the envelope and your limbs tensed, Dohoon took a step toward you without a word. He took advantage of the commotion, the fact that everyone was looking away, and raised both hands carefully. He covered your ears with his large, warm palms, like a shield tailor-made just for you.

You gave a little gasp, looking up at him in surprise, but he said nothing. He just held you steady, his eyes locked on yours, calm, as if his whole world was reduced to a single goal: to protect you from the din that was about to fall.

Streamer cannons exploded. The lights intensified, the music blasted and the audience roared like a wave breaking on rock. But you, between his hands, heard only your breath. And his.

Dohoon stayed like that for a moment longer than necessary.

As if refusing to return you to the noise.

He left you a silent caress as he passed over your cheeks. An invisible trail that told you without words that you were protected.

Always.

Even if no one knew it.

Gently tug on your belt or sleeve to pull you closer to him as you walk away.

The night had been long.

Between the spotlights, the cameras and the audience's applause still pounding in their ears, the band walked off the stage with automatic steps. The backstage corridor smelled of hot lights, makeup and sweat. Staffs ran across, voices shouted instructions and water bottles passed from hand to hand.

In the midst of that flow, you took just a few steps away.

You just went to grab a drink, maybe catch up with someone. But to Dohoon, those two steps away were a silent alert. An invisible line that he simply wasn't willing to leave crossed for long.

From where he stood, he watched you. With his head barely bowed.

With a muted intensity that no one else noticed.

You did. Always you.

He didn't call you. Didn't ask you to come back.

He didn't need to.

He just reached up, and with natural precision, caught the side loop of your belt. He held it with two fingers, slow, sure, as if that little strip of cloth were an anchor point to his own peace of mind.

And then he pulled. Not hard. Just just enough. Just enough for you to feel the exact pull.

The call that didn't sound, but weighed.

The gesture was clean, imperceptible to any nearby camera. A tug that anyone could mistake for a rubbing between partners. But you knew what it was. A silent way of saying, "Here. With me. Not so far away."

When you turned to look at him, he was calm again. His face serene, his eyes lowered. But his finger still entangled in your belt, as if he didn't want to let go yet. As if the physical contact was a reminder of something deeper.

And when you weren't wearing a belt, he wore your sleeve. Your jacket. Your purse. Anything you had on you became his way of pulling you back. Because he wasn't possessive, but protective.

Because his need to have you close wasn't insecurity... it was devotion.

He gives you soft commands disguised as questions, but you know he wants you to obey.

The training had been over for a few minutes. The high beams were still on, and several members were chatting with the choreographer. Others were lying on the floor, exhausted, laughing. You had gone to sit in a corner, on a sound box, cell phone in hand. Just for a while.

But Dohoon had already noticed you.

From the other end of the room, leaning with one arm against the wall, Dohoon was watching you. Calm. Quiet. The others thought he was resting, slowing down. But you knew he had you in his sights from the moment you stepped out of his range.

He walked toward you unhurriedly, sneakers making a dull thud on the floor. And when he was close enough, he stopped, barely bowing his face, letting his shadow cover you.

He leaned in just barely, just enough for only you to hear his voice, and in that soft, confident, slightly low tone, he threw one of his “questions” at you:

—Are you coming now… or do I have to come get you?

A question. In appearance. Almost playful. But you knew him. You knew that when he talked like that, there was no room for negotiation. It was his way of asking you something without asking.

Of giving you the choice, knowing that the answer was already written in his gaze.

You stood up. Not out of obligation. Because your body was already trained to react to that exact tone. Because with him, even commands sounded like caresses, like camouflaged promises. His hand reached out. Open. Waiting for you. And you didn't hesitate.

You took it, feeling his fingers close immediately with quiet strength. He pulled you gently, and you walked beside him without asking where.

He walked beside you, unhurriedly, without boasting. But his thumb caressed the back of your hand in slow movements.

Because Dohoon didn't need to assert himself.

He just needed to look at you. And you already knew what to do.

And the most dangerous thing of all... was how much you liked to obey him.

Youngjaeㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤChoi Youngjae !

He always stands between you and any unknown person without you even noticing.

Youngjae never needed to be taught how to read spaces.

He had a quiet, fine, almost invisible instinct that allowed him to anticipate the movements of others… especially when it came to you.

As soon as they crossed the entrance of any event, whether it was a recording, an open rehearsal or a gala with press, he did so without haste. But every step he took was millimetrically calculated to be close to you without drawing attention to himself, and more importantly, to step naturally between you and any unfamiliar figure who came too close.

It wasn't something you noticed right away.

It wasn't obvious.

He would slip past you like a well-trained shadow, a reflection that would appear just as someone -a cameraman, a technician, a random guest- moved in your direction without realizing how close they were passing. It always seemed accidental.

As if it simply coincided with Youngjae turning on his heels, or taking a side step just at the same time as someone else.

But it wasn't coincidence.

It was choice. Decision. Instinct.

Youngjae read the environment like a map in real time, and you were the red dot he had to protect at all costs. If the staff called him from one end, he would look toward you first, and if you were safe, then he would respond. If someone extended a hand too animatedly to say hello, Youngjae would appear in the middle, pretending to reach out or exchange a professional look, but leaving you just out of direct contact.

And you, without quite noticing, would begin to relax.

Because even without knowing he was doing that for you, your body felt it. You felt the air between you and the others become calmer, cleaner... more yours.

Because he made it seem natural, like it was just good placement. But in his mind, that move was an act of protection. Not because he distrusted the world, but because he couldn't tolerate the idea of anyone, however unwittingly, invading the place where you breathed.

The place he considered exclusively yours... and therefore, also his.

He helps you put on your coat without asking, and then carefully adjusts your collar.

It was one of those shooting days where temperatures dropped as soon as the sun began to set. The staff was moving fast, looking for coats, handing out hot drinks, wiping the sweat from their temples as the wind began to seep through the lights.

You stood, distracted with your phone, your jacket folded over one arm, and cheeks a little cold, not complaining.

But Youngjae saw you.

He saw you as if you were the only sharp shot in a blurry scene. As if among all that bustle, you were the only constant that required real attention.

He approached wordlessly, so close that his presence became warm before he touched you. His hands slid to your coat with a slow, firm gesture, and he took it from your arm without asking permission. As if he knew you needed it even before you did. As if your comfort was part of his personal work.

Patiently, he lifted the garment, waited for you to raise your arms slightly, and placed it on your shoulders with almost reverent precision. Her fingers were warm, her touch direct but delicate.

And it didn't end there.

Once the jacket was in place, his hands lingered a moment longer. One on your shoulder, light, sure. The other went up to the collar, where the fabric was a little twisted, and began smoothing it with thumb and forefinger, with slow, meticulous movements. As if the coat was an extension of you, and he refused to leave it untended.

And then he lowered his head.

Not quite, just a nod.

The gesture was so intimate that your breathing changed unintentionally. His face remained close to yours, close to your ear, but he said nothing. He just stood there, as if that space of air between you was sacred, as if protecting you from the cold also meant enveloping your world in his.

For the cameras, it was a simple gesture.

Kind.

Nothing out of the ordinary.

But you knew it wasn't that. You knew that every time he wrapped you up, he was covering you from more than just the weather. It was his way of enveloping your body with his without crossing the public line. It was his secret language of belonging.

And you let him do it. Because you felt that every time he arranged your coat, what he was really saying was:

"I've got you. Always. Even when you don't notice."

He holds your hand under the table, squeezing it when he needs you to calm down or be present.

The press room was white, too white.

The intermittent flashes set the rhythm of anxiety in your chest, and the reporters' questions came one after another, sometimes soft, sometimes disguised as traps disguised as interest. All the members responded with their rehearsed smiles, some joking to lighten the mood.

And you nodded, correct, elegant, but stiff.

Youngjae sensed you, even without looking at you. Sitting next to you, his attention was on the environment like radar… but his energy was focused solely on you.

He knew when your breathing became shallower.

When your fingers began to brush the hem of your skirt.

When the pressure built up in your silence.

So without interrupting anything, without anyone noticing, he slid his hand under the table, slowly, and reached for yours. Fingers first. Then with the open palm. And when he found it, he didn't catch it… he held it.

As if holding your hand was a ceremony.

He squeezed once. Gently, but firmly. A single squeeze.

It was his signal.

His, "I'm here. Breathe." His: “You don't need to carry alone.” His: “With one word, I'll get you out of here if I have to.”

He wasn't looking in your direction. He kept his eyes straight ahead, his face neutral, professional. But with his hand intertwined with yours, you knew he was attentive to every emotion that moved under your skin.

And he didn't let go.

Nor when they changed the subject. Nor when you responded in a slightly more confident voice. Nor when the other members started joking again. He was still there, his thumb barely caressing the base of your thumb, creating a little anchor in the middle of all the noise.

No more was needed.

Because when Youngjae held your hand, the world became a little easier to bear. Not because of what he said, but because of what he conveyed: a deep, subtle restraint, as firm as it was invisible.

And even if no one knew... you knew.

And that was enough.

Hanjinㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤHan Zhen !

He always walks slightly in front of you, as if he wants to cover you from the world.

Hanjin did not do it consciously.

It was not a cold calculation, nor a premeditated plan.

It was simply that his body was positioned that way. Always one step ahead of you. Always first. As if his duty -no, his desire- was to lead the way, to clear the air before you breathed it, to receive any glance before it touched yours.

And though it might seem like a simple walk to others, he felt it as an invisible responsibility, as natural as breathing. In every aisle, in every backstage, on every carpet where the spotlight chased him, he walked with a silent purpose: to cover you from the world without you having to think about it.

It wasn't mistrust.

It wasn't jealousy or possession.

It was something more intimate, more raw: it was instinct.

Because in his mind, the world was too noisy, too fast, too unpredictable for someone like you. And if he could put you a little further back, if only for a few steps, if only for a few seconds… then you would be a little safer.

And he made it look so natural.

The cameras caught him opening doors, making space between members, leaving just the right gap where you could follow him without difficulty.

No one suspected a thing.

To everyone else, he was a silent leader.

To you, he was a mobile shelter.

Sometimes he would turn his face, just a little, to make sure you were behind him. And when you were, when his eyes met yours -if only for a split second- something inside him would settle.

He would calm down.

And you, even if you never said anything, knew it.

You knew that this step of distance was not out of indifference, but out of love. Out of that silent love that Hanjin spoke not with words, but with direction.

With steps.

With presence.

He whispers your name in a deep voice when he wants you to hear it, and that's enough.

There was something in his voice that didn't need volume to make itself heard.

A weight.

A gravity that pierced you without violence, but with intensity.

In the midst of any chaos -a celebration, a waiting room full of screams, a rehearsal between laughter and jokes- it was enough for him to pronounce your name, just a whisper, just a brush between his lips, for you to turn around immediately.

As if an invisible current pulled you firmly.

“Noona...”

That word came from him with a tone that no one else used with you. It wasn't just a term of respect.

It was a private statement.

A way to envelop your attention with just one syllable.

Hanjin knew what it caused when he said it.

He knew you tensed just a little, as if his voice touched your skin, even without coming close.

And yet, he didn't abuse it.

He only used it when he really wanted you to hear it. When he needed your focus back on him. When the rest of the world was pulling you in a thousand directions and he wanted to remind you that he was there.

—Noona... —he would say, in that deep, dense voice, so soft it seemed to caress. And you, no matter who you were talking to, no matter what was going on around you, you would turn. You looked at him. Always.

And when your eyes met his, Hanjin didn't immediately smile. He would hold your gaze. Steadily. Completely. As if he had just tightened an invisible bond between the two of you.

For others, it was nothing. For you, it was everything.

Because he didn't shout.

He didn't ask.

He was just calling your name.

And in that moment, you belonged to him again.

He takes you by the chin towards him if you are sad, forcing you to hold his gaze.

I didn't need to see you cry to know something wasn't right.

I could sense it in the longer-than-normal silence.

In the way your shoulders didn't rise as high when you laughed.

In that slight emptiness that crept into your gaze.

Hanjin didn't pressure you.

He didn't fill you with questions or carelessly intrude into your space. He waited. He watched you. He gave you that leeway he knew you needed…until he decided it was enough.

And when he decided to act, he did so with a commanding calm that left no room for evasion.

He approached without words. Just him and that dense magnetism that seemed to envelop the air around him. And you could feel it. You felt it on your skin, even if you weren't looking at him.

And then, his hand would come up. Firmly. His thumb brushing your chin, his fingers resting just barely on the line of your jaw. He would lift your face with unrelenting gentleness.

Not to force you. But to guide you. To make you look at him. So you wouldn't run away.

—Noona… Look at me.

His voice was low, but it left you no choice. It made you hold his gaze as if that connection was the only thing keeping you grounded.

And maybe it was.

Because in those eyes there was something that painlessly disarmed you. A kind of serene strength that held you from the inside.

And it didn't say much.

It just looked at you.

With that quiet intensity, with that absolute devotion that said, “You may be bad, you may fall…but you're not going down alone.”

And you knew that.

You knew because although his fingers didn't tremble, his thumb caressed your skin as if you were fragile, as if at that moment nothing else mattered.

And he stood there, holding you with his gaze. Like an anchor. Like a shield. Like a refuge where you didn't have to hide, because he had already seen it all... and still, he looked at you as if you were his universe.

Jihoonㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤHan Jihoon !

He watches you silently and acts before you say anything, which makes you feel completely seen.

Jihoon was observant.

Extremely so.

Jihoon didn't need you to speak to know what you were feeling.

The slightest gesture was enough, a subtle change in the way you sat, in how you held your glass, in the pause you left before answering any question.

From his place -whether on a group couch, backstage, or behind you during an interview- Jihoon would watch you with that quiet intensity that seemed to brush you without touching you.

He didn't invade, he didn't interrupt, he didn't demand.

He just… was.

Present.

Aware of your every micro-expression as if they were tattooed on his soul.

And then he did it.

He would act before you could even formulate the thought.

If your drink was no longer cold, he would silently change it, and set it down next to you. If the microphone slipped, he had it in his hand before you could grab it again. If there were too many people talking at the same time and your gaze began to wander, he would place his hand just barely brushing your arm, as if to say, “Here, look at me.”

And you did.

You always ended up looking at him.

Because he was the only one who didn't need to listen to you to understand you. As if he had you figured out. As if he existed in the same internal rhythm as you, synchronized on a level that even you didn't fully understand.

Jihoon never presumed that.

He never used it to impress you.

On the contrary: he was so discreet that often only you noticed what he had just done. But that was the point.

For you to notice.

That you would feel that there was someone who really saw you.

And he did.

All the time.

Even when you thought he didn't.

Because to Jihoon, your comfort wasn't an option.

It was a priority.

He takes you by the wrist gently, but with no option to let go, as if he knows exactly where you are going.

It wasn't always easy to move through the hustle and bustle: cameras, fans, staff running around with schedules and lists, calls and lights on. And you, in the middle, sometimes so focused, so full of things in your head, that you didn't notice when someone called your name or asked you to move somewhere.

But Jihoon did.

He always noticed.

He always had you measured.

He always knew exactly where you were going… and where you shouldn't go.

So he kept it simple.

Straightforward.

Without asking permission, without giving explanations that weren't necessary.

He took you by the wrist. With a measured firmness. Precise. As if his hand was made to encircle right there. And you felt it. The warmth, the pressure, the delicate but immovable control. And without a word, he would begin to guide you.

Through corridors.

Through people.

Through everything.

It was a small movement, but loaded with message: "With me. Now."

And you followed it.

Not because you couldn't resist, but because you didn't want to. Because there was something about the way he pulled -with that quiet, absolute authority- that made you trust. That made you give in.

And he didn't even look back.

He didn't need to check to see if you were coming with him.

He knew you would.

And in those seconds, as you walked behind him, following the rhythm of his sure step, of his straight back, of his hand that did not let go of yours… you felt calm.

Protected.

Chosen.

And when he finally stopped, his fingertips would linger a few seconds longer on your skin, as if he didn't want to leave you completely.

As if your pulse was his anchor.

He silently corners you against the wall just to make you laugh and lower your tension.

It was one of those days when everything weighed on you.

Stress hung in the air like an invisible veil: too many repetitions, too many instructions, too many expectations.

And you, even if you were smiling, were tense.

Jihoon could feel it.

He noticed the stiffness in your shoulders, the lack of real sparkle in your eyes, the way you sighed when no one was looking.

And as always, he decided you weren't going to take it alone.

So he waited for the perfect moment. A pause between recordings.

A side hallway with no cameras. Just a few seconds alone, between boxes and lights off.

And without warning, he stepped in front of you, and took another step. And then another. Until you, without realizing it, were against the wall. Between his body and the cold concrete.

But there was no threat in his eyes.

Just spark.

Just playfulness.

Just that intention laden with tenderness disguised as provocation.

He said nothing.

He just looked at you from above, with a barely raised eyebrow and a restrained smile curving his lips. His hands remained on the sides of your head, but they didn't touch. He didn't need to. Because his presence was enough to invade your entire chest.

And then he spoke to you.

Low.

Mischievous.

—Are you going to keep that face, Noona… or are you going to tell me what's wrong?

And you laughed.

You couldn't help it.

Because his voice, his closeness, the way he cornered you with fierce care, broke down any wall you had erected.

And he knew it.

It was his way of taking care of you without you seeing it coming.

To force you to let go, to breathe, to come back to him when everything else was too much.

Jihoon wasn't one to hug you in public, he wasn't one for overt gestures. But when he held you like this, so close, so much his... he protected you with that intensity of someone who knows every corner of you and is not afraid of any of them.

And when you laughed -finally, for real- his smile also appeared.

Real.

Calm.

Because then he knew you were well again.

And nothing mattered more to him than that.

Kyungminㅤ ❛❛    ──── ㅤLee Kyungmin !

It always finds a way to touch you (shoulder, waist, neck), as if it needs to remind you that it is there.

Kyungmin didn't need to think about it.

His body just did it. It was as if his nervous system was already trained to look for you.

To find you.

To touch you.

Always.

Every time you were near -even if there were people, cameras, noise, laughter or interviews- his fingers would find their way. It was a passing brush, as if it didn't matter. A gentle touch on the small of your back as you moved forward. A distracted caress on your shoulder as they waited in a circle. Or his warm hand resting just at the curve of your waist, just for a second… just long enough for you to feel it.

He didn't say anything.

He never announced it.

But his touches had weight.

They had presence.

They had the language of someone who loved you so much that he needed to confirm you with his fingertips.

Sometimes it went unnoticed.

Sometimes not.

Sometimes a member would joke, throw a sidelong glance, and Kyungmin would just smile, cocking his head. Because he knew what he was doing.

And he loved that no one could say anything.

Touching you was like breathing to him.

It was his way of anchoring himself to the moment, of knowing you were there, that you weren't a dream. Because he held you close, because you let him do it, because you wouldn't move away either.

And that… it killed him with tenderness.

It destroyed him with love.

As if everything in him was only alive when you were within reach of his touch.

And if ever, for seconds, you were too far away to catch up, his eyes followed you. And the body, restless, searched for you until it found an excuse to come closer again.

Because yes.

Because you were his anchor, his silent obsession, and his way of loving was measured in millimeters of shared skin.

He murmurs soft commands to you amidst a smile, tenderly disarming you.

With Kyungmin, control was not imposed.

It was whispered.

It slipped between slow smiles and sweet words. His way of dominating was so gentle, so charming, that it left no room for resistance.

Only surrender.

“Stay close to me, okay?” “Drink this, it will do you good.” “Come here a second���”

Simple phrases.

Innocent.

But you knew.

You always knew.

Because his voice lowered a little, his tone became more intimate, and his smile seemed sweet… but it had an edge.

A warm edge.

Tender edge.

Inevitable edge.

Kyungmin didn't ask for things.

He declared them in disguise.

And you obeyed without argument. Not because he demanded it. But because it came naturally to you. Because deep down, you wanted to do it. You wanted to respond to his tone that left no room for doubt.

And he was fascinated by that.

Seeing you nod slowly, seeing how your body responded before your lips, how you moved towards him naturally… it melted him inside. It made him addicted. It was a devotion that didn't scream, but existed in each of those seconds where you simply followed his lead without thinking.

It wasn't that he needed to control you. It wasn't possession.

It was certainty. It was the relief of knowing that he could guide you because you trusted him. Because you let him hold you in his hands as gently as you would hold something sacred.

And even if no one else noticed, even if it seemed like just a normal conversation, he knew what was going on between you.

And he smiled.

He always smiled afterwards.

Because having you like this -obedient without fear, surrendered without pressure- was the most beautiful thing he knew.

He makes you sit between his legs and wraps his arms around you, as if you were his.

The scene was innocent.

Casual.

No one suspected anything.

It was one of those moments when the cameras were not pointing directly. One of those spaces between scenes where the staff was resting, where the members were relaxing, and you -with your tupper open on your legs- had decided to record a little clip for the group's vlog.

You were on the floor, right in front of the dressing room sofa, your legs crossed and your cell phone resting on a small improvised tripod while you were talking to the camera. You were in vlog mode, talking to your fans with that sweet, natural voice, as if the camera was your friend.

But you were not alone.

Kyungmin was behind you. Sitting on the couch, legs apart, and you… between them.

Perfectly wedged between his body and the soft backrest.

From there, he had effortless access to you. His left arm draped over your shoulder, hand resting gently on your chest, not invasively, but like an anchor. As if he needed to remind himself that you were there.

That you were real.

That you were his.

And sometimes, just sometimes, he would lean in a little, lower his head and murmur little things next to your ear. Things that didn't stick.

Things just for you.

"Don't talk so fast, noona. You're choking." “Drink some water, come on.” “Look at me for a second.”

And you did it.

You obeyed without thinking, without needing an explanation.

From the outside, it looked like a normal scene.

A teammate recording a vlog while Kyungmin was resting behind.

But if anyone looked closely... if anyone watched closely... they would know that he wasn't “resting”.

He was watching over you. Claiming you without words.

His body surrounded you.

He was protecting you.

No one else could sit like this.

No one else could hold you so still between his legs, while he rested on the crown of your head for seconds, and then lay back down as if nothing had happened.

He didn't need to kiss to mark territory.

He did it with his arms.

With the way he hugged you from above without suffocating you. With the way his hands would always find you, adjust your hair, or just hold your food container for a second to catch your breath.

They didn't need words.

And even if you didn't say anything, even if you didn't even look directly at him, your body spoke for you.

The way you just stood there, the way you didn't want to move... it drove him crazy.

In the best sense.

You knew it too. You knew what he was saying without saying it.

And he... he was completely satisfied with that.

© veevrsee — All rights Reserved.

[majusialikesfastcars]

EYES OFF YOU

Arvid Lindblad x reader

Summary: Arvid never believed in love at the first sight. But then he met you, Ollie's cousin, and wasn't so sure about his beliefs anymore.

this request 🫶

⚠️Tw: prema boys being the little shits they are

!English is not my first language, so please bare with me🙏🙏!

(arvid's version)³

♪ 🌻 ♪

♪ 🌻 ♪

There's no touch or feeling,

Pleasure or pain,

Anything like the way you're runnin' through my veins,

No breath or beauty,

No sound or sight,

That ever made me feel the way you do tonight,

I just can't take my eyes off of you.

♪ 🌻 ♪

Going to the track at early hours of the morning was something normal for Arvid. Morning fog surrending garages and the silence of only few people working, was something he grew to love. He could quiet his mind and focus on the upcoming race. It was like second nature for him. When the crowds started to gather, he liked to hide in his garage, being a little introverted.

Today wasn't an exception. He sat in the corner of the prema garage, watching people walking by. And that's when he saw you, smiling at everyone. When your eyes met, he felt like time has stopped. He shyly smiled back, feeling his cheeks grow hot. That's when you decided to walk up to him. He could feel his heart beating rapidly, when you finally stood in front of him.

"Hi," you said sheepishly, tucking your curly hair behind your ear. "do you by any chance know how I can get to formula two paddock?"

"Yeah," he stuttered a bit. "I can show you where it is."

For the whole walk, he couldn't keep his eyes away from you. He was simply enamored by you. You talked like you knew eachother for years and he loved the lack of akward silence.

"How did you even end up in the wrong paddock?" he asked, curious as to why you were here.

"My cousin was supposed to pick me up, but something came up and I got lost." you laughed and Arvid knew he found his new favourite sound. He didn't dug deeper and unbeknownst to him that said cousin was watching you two with a sly smile on his face. Ollie Bearman was a lot of things, but not stupid. He knew by the look in your eyes, that you too were smitten by the dark haired boy.

It was time to play cupid.

♪ 🌻 ♪

Ollie, Kimi, Dino, Gabriele and Arvid sat on chairs, ready to play pico park for prema's new YouTube video. You watched the boys laugh and scream at eachother, when someone was sabotaging the game, with a fond smile on your face. Lost in thoughts, you didn't notice that Arvid was also staring, totally not focusing on the game. But the other boys were fully aware of it and who would they be if they didn't tease him for it.

"ARVID!" Ollie shouted, smirking at the younger boy. "Focus on the game, mate."

"Yeah," Dino said with an evil grin on his face. "you can ask her out later."

Arvid swore, he would kill him later. When you looked at him, he really wanted the earth to swallow him whole. He almost became as red as Ferrari. The boys, of course, laughed at him. Now, he was sure he would kill them all. And then ask you out.

♪ 🌻 ♪

You sat in the prema garage, watching Ollie prepare for his race. Formula three race ended with Arvid winning it and you were really impressed with his skills. It was like him and his car were one. You felt someone's presence next to you. When you turned your head, you saw Arvid smiling from ear to ear. It was like he knew you thought about him. You smiled back, blush covering your cheeks. You could shamelessly admit that his post race look was hot.

"Congrats on P1." you said, winking playfully at him. "Winning looks good on you."

Arvid felt his heart practically melting, when you said that.

"Thanks." he decided, that it was now or never and asked "Would you like to hang out sometime?"

He felt blush cover his cheeks as soon as he said it, looking at the ground sheepishly.

"I would love to." you said, sitting closer to him and shyly taking his hand in yours.

Maybe killing the boys wasn't that necessary, he thought, looking at your fingers now intertwined together.

♪ 🌻 ♪

Author's note: I swear the pico park video is my fav thing in the world. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoyed the story<3

[dunmeshistash]

Kabru Revealed in Five Keywords

5 keywords section from the Adventurer's Bible, this is transcribed from the EHScans translation for more info you can check this post. My own notes will be at the end of the post.

1. Utaya

Kabru's hometown, Utaya, was a town that flourished due to its dungeon. However, it was the monsters that poured forth from the dungeon that ultimately led to the town's ruin. Kabru was buried under rubble during the monster attack, and was discovered by the (then) vice-captain of the Canaries, Milsiril*, who then took him westward. The tragedy that befell Utaya left a great scar upon young Kabru's psyche, and now he explores dungeons with the goal of eventually exterminating all monsters and dungeons.

2. Milsiril

Former vice-captain of the Canaries. Her hobby is raising children from other races, and she ended up adopting Kabru, who had lost his mother. She's the one who trained Kabru extensively in combat techniques. During his time with Milsiril, Kabru apparently came to the realization that he "would never be able to understand long-lived races". Despite that, Kabru doesn't seem to harbor any negative sentiment toward the long-lived races.

3. Magic

Kabru is able to cast simple spells like illuminate, water walk, and healing. However, casting magic tires him out considerably, so he refrains from doing so if there is a mage in the party. He really wanted to learn illusionary spells, but it was too difficult and he eventually gave up.

4. Mother

Since Kabru's mother worked at a tavern in Utaya, he was able to get a close-up look at adventurers from an early age. His mother came from a respectable family; however, she ran away from the family she married into because they were about to kill Kabru** over the color of his eyes. Though she had a tendency to start complaining after a few drinks, she was a hard worker and did her best to raise Kabru as a single mother.

5. People Skills

Kabru excels at building friendly personal relationships with others. He's well acquainted with all the members of his dungeon party, but it looks like he's having a difficult time creating opportunities to get to know Laios. Holm commented that Kabru was the type of person that would do anything to gain someone's trust.

------

*The official english says Milsiril is the "current vice-captain of the canaries", unsure how they got that from the original but she was the vice captain during Utaya but she retired after.

**Official english translated this as "her husband's relations almost killed her over the color of his eyes" while EHScans says they were gonna kill Kabru. The original text is "母 親 は 良家 の 娘だったが 、嫁き先で生まれたカブルーの目の色が原因で殺されかけ、逃げ出している" I can't really tell which translation got it more accurate but either way I would assume both their lives were in danger

Stats

Timelines

Official version bellow the cut

[choikanghuening]

[re]Connect (or simply “Playground Love”)

now playing: Playground Love - AIR

synopsis: Kai returns to his hometown and reconnects with you, his childhood friend. When you met, you have an emotional reunion that leads to a passionate moment, and you are faced with the choice of moving forward together or letting go of what might have been.

pairing: huening kai x afab!reader

trope: childhood friends to strangers to lovers (what a ride)

genre: angst, fluff, smut (mdni)

wc: 5.9k

warnings: not proofread, kai is shy and clueless here, mentions of death, alcohol consumption, dry humping, unprotected sex (don't do this y'all). lmk if i forgot anything (i probably did).

elle speaks: idek what to say, im too sleepy. english is not my first language, so sorry for any typos and mistakes. feedbacks/reblogs/likes are appreciated.

fic below the cut

Kai was back in the small town where he grew up, spending a rare period of free time. The gentle breeze hinted at the arrival of summer, and he wanted to savor these quiet days before returning to the hustle of the big city and the intense pace of his job. After a homemade dinner prepared by his mother, he decided to go for a walk, letting himself be surrounded by the silence of the streets on that night.

Feeling thirsty, he stopped by one of the few convenience stores still open and bought a bottle of beer. With the drink in hand, he wandered slowly through the nearly deserted streets, relishing the familiar silence. There was no movement—no cars, no hurried footsteps, no loud voices. Only the distant sound of the wind rustling through the trees and the occasional crackle of dry leaves on the asphalt. In that quiet, sleepy town, everything seemed to be at rest, deepening his sense of nostalgia and solitude.

Guided by impulse and memories, he made his way to the playground in the main square, the gathering place for so many moments of his childhood. When he arrived, he paused, taking in the scene before him. The square looked almost the same, but the subtle marks of time were unmistakable. The wooden bench where he had often sat now had peeling paint, the surrounding trees were taller and denser, and the lighting seemed colder, a bit more distant. The small wooden playhouse, where he had spent so much time, seemed renovated, though. Still, he smiled, realizing that despite the changes, the spirit of the place remained.

Kai looked around, letting his gaze travel over each piece of playground equipment, each structure that seemed to hold the secrets of his youth. The slide, the swings, the playhouse where so many promises were exchanged. He closed his eyes for a moment, feeling as if each detail brought him a little closer to a younger version of himself. This was where he had spent most of his childhood and teenage years, amid laughter, secrets, and, most of all, with you.

“Y/N…” The name slipped from his lips in an involuntary whisper, as if he could no longer keep it just in memory. He took a sip of beer, and the memories of the two of you together flooded his mind. It was like he could hear the sound of your laughter, the patter of your feet running around the playground. For a moment, he lost himself in that sensation, reliving the intensity of that first day, as if everything had happened only yesterday.

Flashback

Kai was six years old, walking hand in hand with his mother through the square of the place they had just moved to. He looked at the new surroundings with enchanted eyes: the trees swaying gently in the touch of the fresh wind, dogs running with their owners, people chatting on benches nearby. It was as if this place had come straight out of one of the stories his mother used to tell him before bed. 

“Don’t you want to go play for a bit, son?” His mother asked kindly, but he just nestled closer to her, feeling shy. When they sat on a bench facing the playground, the boy watched the children playing, curious but hesitant. He wanted to join them, but he didn’t know anyone. 

Distracted, he started fiddling with the zipper of his jacket until a small voice suddenly called out to him, “Hey, you there!” Kai looked up to see a girl with messy hair—you. “Wanna play with me?” 

Feeling his cheeks heat up, he glanced at his mother for a sign of permission. She smiled and nodded. After hesitating a bit, he gave in, approaching you, who had a big grin filled with baby teeth and a few gaps. 

“What's your name?” You asked, curious, with your eyes shining as you looked at him. 

“Kai,” he answered softly, and you immediately took his hand with a firm, natural grip. 

“I'm Y/N,” you replied, full of confidence. “Now come on, let’s go to the swings!”

Sitting on the same bench from so many years ago, Kai let out a melancholic smile. He had no idea how you were, since it had been years since you last saw each other. Ever since he left to study abroad, you had lost contact—something that would've seemed impossible to anyone who saw you together as kids, inseparable until your teenage years. 

The memory of your laughter and the warmth of your hand was still with him, bringing a pang of longing. Kai sighed, feeling the contrast between the shy boy he once was and the man he was now. Despite all he had experienced and the places he had been, you remained a constant in his memory—as if this city and the time you shared together were pieces of whom he would always be. 

The truth was, when he began to understand his feelings better, he realized he liked you in a way that went beyond friendship. He was falling in love, but he never had the courage to confess, convinced you couldn't feel the same way. Besides, since he was eleven, he knew he would have to leave: he would go live with his father, study music, and pursue his dream of becoming a successful producer. 

Time passed, and he achieved professional success, but a lingering doubt followed him like a shadow. “What if I had at least told her how I felt before I left?” The thought often surfaced, unanswered. Now, however, it seemed too late. Years had gone by, and he didn’t even know where you were or how you were doing. Maybe you were married, maybe you had children, or perhaps you had even moved away—though he knew that you never really wanted it. In a more pessimistic impulse, he even thought, “What if she’s not even alive anymore?” 

Kai shook his head, brushing away the dark thoughts. Wherever you were, he only hoped you were happy. What he didn’t know was that fate still had something in store for the two of you.

“Oh crap, where did I leave my wallet?” You were pacing frantically around your house, rummaging through bags, cushions, and anything that could hide the lost object, but nothing seemed to work. 

Sighing nervously, you closed your eyes for a moment, trying to retrace your steps from the day. “I’m sure I left work with it. I didn’t use it at the market. I paid for the groceries with my phone. So where could it be?” 

Suddenly, your eyes shot open. “Of course, the playhouse!” You had been there just before heading home to leave the flowers you bought. You’d planted them, and in the rush to finish, you must have dropped your wallet from your bag. 

“That’s it; it must be there!” You smiled in relief, grabbed your phone, and dashed out to the park. 

Arriving there, you hurried to the playhouse, and luckily, there was your wallet. You found it lying on one of the steps, and a sigh of relief escaped your lips. You sat down right there to catch your breath and calm your nerves. 

Then, as you looked around, you noticed a tall figure sitting on a bench not too far away. He seemed to be looking in your direction. A chill ran down your spine. Feeling wary, you stood up, ready to leave, when a deep voice suddenly broke the silence. 

“Y/N?”

Recognizing that voice, you looked over, blinking as if your eyes were deceiving you. 

“Kai?” you asked incredulously. 

The man approached, and now closer, you noticed how different he looked: taller, with broader shoulders and slightly longer hair. But the features you remembered from your younger years were still there. 

Gosh, he was so handsome.

Completely surprised, you covered your mouth with your hands. He smiled, and on impulse, you were pulled into his strong embrace. Kai was stronger, but he was still the same childhood friend. 

“I can’t believe it!” You finally managed to speak; your voice still filled with disbelief. “You… it’s really you!” 

“I’d never imagine running into you here at this hour,” he replied, pulling back slightly, scratching his head, clearly nervous. “You look… different.” 

“No shit, Sherlock. It’s been… how many years since we last saw each other?” You teased, trying to hide your surprise with a lighter tone. “About 8, maybe?” 

“Something like that.” He smiled awkwardly, his usual shyness now even more evident. “And you, how are you? What have you been up to?” 

“I’m working at the city hall; I’m an architect,” you replied with a small smile. “I’ve been working on revitalization projects around here, in the city.” 

“Wow, that’s amazing, Y/N! That’s incredible!” Kai exclaimed, genuinely excited. 

“Yeah, and you? I assume you’re working with music; it’s always been what you loved most.” You said, remembering how he always had a guitar or headphones close by. 

“Yes, I’m a music producer at a big label in the capital,” he replied, his smile showing pride. 

“I’m glad to hear that,” you said, feeling a pang of nostalgia but with a genuine smile. “Well, Kai… I gotta go. It was good seeing you.” 

You took a few steps to leave, but he quickly grabbed your arm, making you stop. 

“Look, Y/N… I don’t have much time in town, so I was wondering if you’d like to grab a coffee with me some time,” he asked, his voice a bit more hesitant than he’d like to show. 

You made a playful face, trying to hide how nervous his proposal made you. 

“Oh, you really forgot that I hate coffee?” You laughed, noticing how embarrassed he seemed. “I’ll go for a beer, though, like the one you’re holding there.” 

Kai looked at the bottle in his hand, and as if he suddenly had an idea, his face lit up. 

“If you’re not busy now, we could grab a few and, I don’t know, catch up a bit; what do you say?” he suggested, with a shy smile. 

You looked at your phone, thinking about what you’d do. If you went home now, you’d probably end up watching some random movie and snacking on some chips or whatever. At least a beer sounded like a good way to unwind. 

“Hm, okay, sure,” you said, smiling gently, and he responded with a sincere smile, clearly relieved.

After buying the beers, you both sat on the steps of the playhouse and talked for a while. 

“I ran into your mom at the market the other day,” you said. “She told me she hadn’t heard from you in a long time.” 

“Yeah, life in the city is kind of chaotic,” he sighed, taking a sip of his beer. “I barely have any time left between one project and the next. That’s why I decided to visit her during these few days off.” 

“I know how it is; that’s why I chose to stay around here,” you shrugged, taking a sip yourself. 

“Did you leave the city?” he asked, curious. 

“Yeah, after I graduated, I lived in the capital for a few months, but then my grandpa got sick, so I dropped everything and came back here,” you said. 

“Oh, and how are your grandparents?” He asked eagerly, smiling. “Your grandma used to make the best chocolate cookies.” 

You felt a knot in your throat and your eyes welling up, so you avoided looking at the man beside you. Keeping your head down and gazing through the neck of the bottle, you finally spoke. 

“So you really don’t know…” You kept looking at the bottle, your voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“Don’t know what?” he asked, curious. 

“They passed away, Kai.” You finally looked at him and saw the smile quickly fade from his face. “My grandpa stayed with us for only six more months. He fought hard, but his heart just couldn’t take it. A year later, my grandma left, peacefully, in her sleep.” 

“Oh, Y/N, I’m so sorry,” Kai said, completely devastated. “I don’t even know what to say.” 

“There’s not much to say, I guess,” you tried to give a weak smile, shrugging. “My grandparents were inseparable, and I always looked up to their relationship. My grandma was incredibly strong, watching my grandpa suffer and reassuring him that everything would be okay. But when he passed, that light in her eyes vanished. A part of her died with him.” 

“That’s really sad,” he said, but you shook your head. 

“It’s not sad; it’s love,” you said, and he felt his heart race. “The doctors said my grandma was starting to feel the effects of age, but I believe she died of a broken heart.” 

Kai kept looking at you, silent. You finished your beer, set the bottle aside, and continued. 

“I tried to be strong, but it wasn’t easy. I was there, taking care of them alone, and sometimes the weight felt too much. But suddenly, they were gone, and I was truly alone.” You paused. “That’s when I understood that missing someone can feel like it’s killing you from the inside.” 

“It’s so hard to imagine you like that,” he finally said. “You were the happiest person I knew. I’ll never forget how you’d come over every day when my parents split up to check on me.” 

“Yeah, at least you had someone to rely on,” you laughed dryly, and Kai swallowed hard. Guilt washed over him, tightening his chest. He looked out at the horizon, then down at the bottle he held, then at you, focused on your own hands. He tried to speak several times, but the words wouldn’t come. Not only that, but he couldn’t even imagine what you’d been through, and remorse ate him. 

“Look, Y/N, I’m so sorry we got out of touch,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I can’t imagine what it must've been like going through all of that alone.” 

“Thanks, Kai, but it doesn’t matter anymore,” you sighed. “It’s been three years; time has passed. You learn to live with pain and loneliness until it becomes bearable.” 

Kai simply nodded and finished his beer. Both of you sat in silence, lost in your own thoughts. You were so strong, he thought. If something like that happened to him, he wasn’t sure how he’d handle it. Yes, you were hurt, but you radiated a strength that was impossible not to admire. In fact, your resilience had always been something Kai looked up to. When you were frustrated, you’d scream into a pillow, then toss it aside with a sigh, saying everything was fine. 

When you were teenagers, Kai found it funny, especially the first time you showed him that trick.

Flashback

“Look, Kai, I know it's tough that your dad is moving so far away, but try to see the bright side,” you said, sitting beside him on the Huening family’s couch. “At least you can go there in the summer and bring me back some souvenirs!” 

“YN, I know you’re just trying to help, but honestly, all I feel like doing right now is screaming,” he replied, frustrated. 

“Oh, I’ve got an idea!” Your face lit up as you grabbed a pillow nearby, handing it to him. “Here.”

“What’s this for?” he asked, confused. 

“Whenever I’m really upset about something, I just hold a pillow to my face and scream into it, like this,” you demonstrated. “Then I calm down.” 

He blinked a few times, staring at you in silence until he couldn’t hold it in and burst out laughing. You couldn’t resist his laughter and joined in, and soon both of you were giggling and doing the pillow scream together, laughing all over again. Your laughter sounded like music to his ears, and as you were distracted with your phone afterward, he found himself admiring you quietly. He noticed your hair, the texture of your skin, the sweetness in your eyes, and the way you bit your lips when you were focused. That’s when he realized how much he liked you. 

“Why are you looking at me like that, Huening?” You caught him staring, snapping him out of his thoughts. 

“N-nothing,” he stammered. “It’s just that… you have a little something on your cheek.” 

He reached out, gently pressing your cheek, and you winced. 

“Ouch!” You rubbed the spot, “Oh, you’ll pay for that!” 

In no time, the two of you had launched into a full-on pillow fight, laughing uncontrollably. The sound of your laughter drew the attention of Kai’s parents, who exchanged a glance and smiled as they watched you both. They knew he would be okay, especially with a friend like you by his side.

The memory made Kai's chest tighten. He remembered that, when you were together, nothing seemed final. But life always changes, and over the years, he drifted from what once felt eternal. His longing for you had never truly gone away, but it wasn’t something simple anymore, as it used to be. Time had changed everything, yet those moments remained a part of him, touching him deeply. 

He saw your determined gaze set on the horizon, and it was in that instant that he knew all those feelings he had harbored for you since that afternoon at his house had never really left. Silence lingered between you, both lost in your own thoughts, searching for words to express what felt too difficult to say. Kai wasn’t sure how, or even if he wanted, to break that silence. The truth he held inside was growing increasingly suffocating, but doubts haunted him: shouldn't he just forget about it? After all, so much time had passed. 

He looked at you, feeling the urge to speak burn in his throat, but the fear of making things worse held him back. How could he put into words everything he felt after so long? What could he say that wouldn’t feel too simple or, worse, that wouldn’t come too late? 

“To hell with it,” he thought. “At least I’ll get it out of my chest.” 

But as the words were about to escape, he hesitated, right when your eyes met his. Something within him quieted. 

“The mood got heavy,” you said with a faint smile. “Sorry, I don’t know what came over me, saying all these things when we haven’t spoken in so long.” 

“No, YN, if anyone owes an apology, it’s me.” He finally broke the silence, taking your hand. “I’m sorry for drifting away, for not reaching out, for being so absorbed in my own life that I forgot how important you always were to me. We grew up together. 

“But we drifted apart, Kai,” you replied. “And that’s it; that’s life, I guess. It’s okay.”

“No, it’s not.” He sighed, shaking his head. “I was a terrible friend, and I truly am sorry. I just hope you can forgive me and that maybe we can be a little like we used to be.” 

The pain in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, but you didn’t know what to do with it. You weren’t even sure if there was anything to be done. 

“I appreciate what you’re saying, but honestly, I don’t think we can go back to how we were.” Your voice was softer now, but the hurt was still there. “I missed you too, more than you know, but things change.” 

“They don’t have to, YN.” He squeezed your hand. “I want to make things right.” 

“Look, Kai,” you sighed, gathering the courage to pull your hand away from his. “You drifted away from me even when you were still here.” 

“What do you mean?” he asked, confused. 

You took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the words you were about to let out. “I liked you, Kai. More than anything back then. But you never noticed, and when I realized there was no way you’d feel the same, I gave up. I was alone back then, and so were you, but in a completely different way.” The sadness in your eyes was undeniable. “We weren’t on the same page, and the worst part… you just left, and I stayed behind, you know? I hoped that at some point you’d at least fight for our friendship, but I finally understood you’d turned the page. So, I moved on.”

Kai was silent for a moment, his words failing him, his mind reeling. The ache in his chest was so intense, he thought it might crush him. 

“I didn’t know that, YN. I… I had no idea how you were feeling. I never realized.” The sorrow in his eyes was visible, and guilt filled his chest, heavy as stone. “If I had known…” Kai couldn’t even finish the sentence. He seemed to be staring into an abyss within himself, searching for the right words, but nothing felt sufficient. The guilt, the regret—it all blended unbearably, like being trapped in a nightmare he couldn’t escape. 

“It’s okay, Kai; it doesn’t matter. It’s all in the past,” you tried to comfort him, placing a hand on his shoulder. 

“No, YN, it’s not in the past.” Kai looked into your eyes, his expression tense. “I was a fool not to see it, and not to show you how much I liked you, too.” 

“What?” you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

“I’ve always liked you, but I never had the confidence to be honest about it.” His gaze was full of regret, and you felt tears brimming in your eyes. “I never told you because I was afraid of losing your friendship, but the worst part is that by saying nothing, I lost you anyway.”

Silence fell between you once more, but this time it was different. The words were out, the truths had been spoken, and the feelings between you—long buried—were now exposed. You felt a mixture of emotions welling up in your chest. On one hand, a wave of relief washed over you at hearing the words you’d never expected. But on the other hand, the pain of everything lost was still there, fresh and raw.

“And what happens now, Kai?” You asked softly but firmly, trying to find some answer in his eyes.

He sighed, gathering his thoughts. The uncertainties hovered in the air, but there was something stronger now—a desire not to let time and missed opportunities slip by once again. “I know things may never be the same as before, YN. They have changed, but I can’t just let it go without trying, without reconnecting. I don’t want to lose you again.”

The words spoken, and the truths shared, had opened a door neither of you realized was still there, waiting to be discovered. Kai’s gaze, once filled with doubts, was now steady on you. Your eyes, so familiar yet so distant, seemed to be searching for an answer that went beyond words.

“I’ll ask you one more time, Kai,” you said in a low voice, moving your face closer to his. “What happens now?”

“Whatever you want,” he replied, his voice almost a whisper, as if he had finally found what he needed to say. He stepped closer, the space between you shrinking, the weight of all the unspoken words from years past hanging in the air. “I just… don’t want to lose you, YN.”

You could feel Kai’s warmth, now almost intoxicating. The doubt and pain still lingering seemed to be softened by the intensity of his gaze. Your heartbeat quickened, and even if you wanted to pull away, your body wouldn’t obey. Kai seemed to have a magnetism that drew you in, and you let yourself fall.

Kai leaned in, and you felt the softness of his hand on your face. The pressure wasn’t just in his touch, but in the heat emanating from him, so intense it seemed to consume every cell in your body. He didn’t pull back, and you felt your eyes closing, as if your soul already knew what was coming.

When he finally leaned down and brushed his lips against yours, it was gentle, sweet, and delicate. But soon, the intensity took over both of you. The warmth of his lips, the urgency of the gesture, as if time and distance had disappeared all at once. For a moment, you both lost yourselves in the light, but soon the gestures turned more desperate, as if you were finally reconnecting. Your breaths mingled, intensifying the kiss that had been so long awaited.

Kai, with his hand still on your face, deepened the kiss, and you felt a wave of warmth that made you surrender completely. The taste of beer was still on his lips, but now another flavor was present—a taste that spoke of all that had been stored up and yearned for.

When you finally pulled apart, time seemed to slow down. The world around you was silent, as if everything had disappeared for a moment. You stood there, your heart beating so fast you could barely hear your own thoughts.

“You have me now. I’m sorry I wasn’t there before… But I’m here now. You have me now and forever,” Kai said, his breathing still fast. His eyes were calmer, but a hint of restlessness lingered, as if he was trying to convince himself that things could truly work out now. “What happens now, YN?”

You smiled at him, shy happiness blending with a touch of hesitation. Your answer was a gentle kiss, a soft brush of your lips that then turned into a gentle press of foreheads, as if you both wanted to imprint this moment. And yet, there was something more.

Kai’s gaze never left yours. The intensity in the air was palpable, and something in you couldn’t escape what you were feeling anymore. He had opened a door, and now you found yourself standing before a choice. Without hesitation, you said, your voice firm yet laden with a deeper desire:

“I want you to make love to me, Kai.”

Kai was silent for a moment, surprise mingling with the intensity of the desire now hanging between the two of you. His eyes shone with something deeper than mere longing—a mix of relief, doubt, and perhaps a silent gratitude for this moment finally becoming real.

“Are you sure?” His voice was husky, as though he needed to confirm, as if he wanted to make sure this wasn’t just a dream.

You smiled, your expression now calmer, but with a glimmer of desire still clear in your gaze. Without hesitation, you looked into his eyes, and, wordlessly, you took his hand and placed it on your waist, pulling him closer.

“I’m sure.” The simple gesture, combined with your confidence, said it all. There were no more doubts, no more hesitation. Both of you were ready to move forward, to give in to the feeling that had finally rekindled after so much time lost.

“Come on, let’s go inside.” You led him into the playhouse, where he had to duck to enter, which made you laugh. Once inside, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap.

Kai pulled you even closer, the intensity of the moment overtaking both of you. Your lips met again, but now with more intensity, with more desire. His hands began to explore your body gently, each touch warm, each careful, passionate gesture feeling like a step toward something both new and yet familiar.

Your heart beating faster, your body responding to his, and the need to be with him, to connect in a way that felt like destiny, were finally becoming real.

When you finally parted, breathless and with your breaths coming in quick, shallow waves, you both knew this wasn’t just a moment of repressed passion but a new beginning. Something bigger was building between you, something that couldn’t be broken this time.

“Now… this is our moment.” Kai’s voice was low but full of conviction, as if he had finally found himself. He kissed you again, deeply, and this time, you both knew there was no turning back.

Slowly, you began to slide your hands down his torso, invading the black shirt he wore. His abdomen was warm, and you did not delay moving away from the kiss only to remove that piece of clothing from Kai’s body.

He did not take long to do the same with you, and soon your blouse lay in some corner of the house that was dominated by the gloom, with a few beams of light penetrating through the small windows. This allowed you to see each other’s expressions and reactions.

The man’s mouth soon went to your neck, where he alternated licking, biting, and languid kisses. The heat was increasing more and more, and soon you did not contain a heavier sigh, trying to hold your hair as you could.

His fingers soon played with the strap of your bra, and he looked at you as if asking permission, which you promptly gave. With dexterity, he opened the clasp and quickly removed the piece from you.

“You’re even more perfect than I imagined,” he said, and without wasting time, he took his tongue to one of your nipples while playing with his fingers on the other.

The groan that came out of your throat exposed the pleasure you felt now, and your hands were against his black hair, pulling slowly. Kai seemed to like it because he started sucking your tits more willingly.

You soon began to roll your hips over his bulge, which made him groan and squeeze your waist.

“Can you feel how my body is reacting to you?” he asked in your ear, with a raspy voice, which made you roll your eyes.

“I feel, and I’m enjoying it so much.” You embraced him and continued with the movements.

“Don’t do that; you’ll drive me crazy,” he said, squeezing your waist even harder.

“Maybe it’s what I want,” you looked at him, joining your foreheads, “punishing you for having gone away all these years.”

“If that’s the punishment, I’ll be happy,” he smiled, pulling your lower lip with his teeth, “but let me take you to heaven first.”

“Lead the way, honey,” you smiled, and he soon unbuttoned your shorts. You quickly did the same with his pants, and, with some effort, you got rid of the remaining pieces, your underwear.

The mutual admiration between you burned your skins. Kai always looked beautiful, but seeing him naked certainly exceeded any fantasy. And you seemed like a piece of paradise to him. The look from top to bottom that he threw at you made his body warm even more.

“I can’t take it anymore; I need you now.” He sighed and went to search the pockets of his pants, complaining. “Shit! YN, I don’t have a condom here. Do you?”

“Don’t worry, I’m on the pill,” you said, and Kai bit his lower lip, trying to control himself.

“You definitely want to drive me crazy,” he laughed and pulled you close.

Without turning your eyes from his, you approached, feeling the heart beating fast, as if each beat was a response to his. You needed no more words. The looks exchanged between them were enough to communicate what they both felt. You touched his face with an almost reverent lightness, and Kai closed his eyes, letting himself be lost in that touch at that moment.

“Come here,” Kai’s voice came out raspy, laden with desire, and, holding your hand, he sat on his own clothes, pulling you close. With his free hand, he held his dick, pumping quickly, “sit.”

You position yourself, and slowly you sit. He was huge, and you had to be careful. Kai closed his eyes for a moment, feeling your warmth engulfing him. The contact between you seemed electric but at the same time delicate, as if every gesture, every movement, was calculated. Time seemed to stand still at that moment. After some time, he was fully inside you, and, after adjusting, you started bouncing on his dick.

You couldn't contain the groans and didn't stop rolling your eyes, numb with pleasure. Kai’s half-closed eyes took turns between your contorted face of pleasure, your bouncing tits, and your pussy swallowing his dick deliciously.

“Damn, you’re so hot,” he said, looking at your fucked-out face. “I might not have been the first, but I want to be the last to taste you like this.”

“Keep doing what you’re doing, and you might,” you said between moans.

You were completely surrendered, feeling the pressure of your bodies against each other, but also the emotional space that both were creating. The world outside disappeared, and you became one, sharing not only the physical desire but the need to heal past wounds, to meet in a way that you had not been able before.

“Fuck YN, you feel so good around me,” he groaned, grabbing your waist.

With a tender gesture, you pulled him closer, and Kai wrapped you in his arms, feeling the heat of your body mix with his.

Once again, your lips were against his, and a quick kiss was exchanged because you had to break out in search of air, gasping violently.

Feeling he was getting close to his high, Kai began to push his hips up as much as he could, in uncoordinated and uncontrolled movements. Breathing faster and faster, you got noisier.

“Don’t stop, Kai” you moaned.

“Are you gonna cum, baby girl?” He asked, and you moaned at the pet name, “Go ahead and cream on me.”

Only a few more thrusts were enough for you to explode, squeezing him internally. He held your hips in place while filling your gummy walls with his own release.

Finding it hard to breathe, you looked at each other and exchanged a sweet kiss, full of meaning. The kiss began soft, almost as confirmation that they were finally in the same place. But it soon became more intense, as if each wanted to capture the other, as if the time lost was compensated there at that moment. The lips met a few times, exploring. What you'd both lived marked you in ways that you were still discovering, but the need to be together was undeniable.

When you broke the kiss, Kai’s eyes were calmer, but there was a different energy between them—a stronger and more intimate connection than anyone could have imagined. You were smiling, not believing what had just happened, but without a shred of regret.

“I’m screwed,” he sighed, still inside you. “I don’t think I can live without your pussy anymore.”

You laughed, slapping his shoulder lightly.

“I don’t want to think about the future now, but would love for us to try to work this out if you want to,” he said, scratching his head. “Can I take you out?”

“Sure. I’ll clear my schedule for you,” you winked, smiling as you got off him, “but like you said, I don’t want to think about the future. I want to enjoy it now.”

“Now,” he said in a soft voice, but filled with a desire that could no longer be contained, “I am here. With you, YN.”

“Great,” you said. “We can continue this in my room; what do you think?”

“I’m in,” he said, smiling, and you two soon got ready, heading to your house.

You were ready to move on, to live the present moment without any more barriers. And tomorrow? It belonged to the future, but it was undeniable that it was promising.

elle speaks²: i don't really like writing smut, but i tried my best. hope you enjoyed, thanks for reading ♡

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction created by me. the characters of TOMORROW X TOGETHER and the song mentioned are used for creative purposes only. this story is not affiliated with BigHit Entertainment or TXT, and all content is fictional and does not reflect reality. the song “Playground Love” is owned by its creators and used here without profit.

© CHOIKANGHUENING 2024. do not plagiarize, translate and/or post on any other site. minors DO NOT INTERACT.

[wandixx]

Ghost of fries and hero of cookies part 6

All work words count: 14 643

Words in this part: 2 686

Summary of whole work: Duke wasn't expecting to wake up from his quick rooftop nap to some meta kid with fries. He also wasn't expecting kid to stay

Or

Danny asked Dani to stay safe while she was in Gotham. Where would she be safer than under the wing of local hero? And he looked like he needed bad day combo anyway

This part summary: Batman wants an explanation. His kids however, wouldn't be themselves if they did add some chaos

Beta read by @audhumla-sailor though English is second language for both of us, so proceed with this in mind. I also know all of the charaters through fics alone, so probably ooc. Stay catious if it's something you don't like

First part, Previous part

“Signal.”

Duke bit back a sigh as his last hope to leave Cave undiscovered disappeared. He shot Steph message of:

Having The Talk. Come as moral support

and turned around to face Bruce.

“Yes?”

B grunted in disapproving and ‘Signal report’ way but Duke decided to buy some time and answer only questions that were actually asked. He slowly sat at the briefing table and looked at the man expectantly.

Lift chimed and moments later Tim and Cass went to Batcomputer and training mats respectively. Duke was, like, 80% sure they were there to eavesdrop. He knew them well enough. He knew them well enough.

“The girl”

“Izzy?” Was Duke annoying on purpose? Yes. He really didn’t want to have this talk. Like, at all. Psychological warfare it was “I mean, I know she is civilian and you don’t approve but at least she isn’t doing anything illegal, right? Like, you know, robbing museums or killing people?”

Bruce looked repulsed and Tim snorted.

“Low blow Narrows, low blow” Jason announced through speakers. He was slightly winded as if he just finished a fight “Good job kid”

“So you’re listening too, great” Duke muttered under his breath before louder he added “Is everyone who wants in on a show, here already?”

“Give me a sec- here Dick you’re going live now”

“Thanks Babs, you’re the best”

“I know. Donuts, you know which one”

“Of course. Glad we’re finally going to talk about Duke’s kid”

“Shut up, she is not my kid!”

“Steph ETA 2 minutes” Cass interrupted.

At least Damian didn’t show up- as if summoned by this thought Damian stomped down the stares, Alfred the Cat curled in his arms. Maybe others had a point, calling him Demon kid and stuff.

“What is an emergency?” he demanded and Duke decided to take what little relief he could from the fact that Bruce seemed equally defeated by sheer number of people around for this talk. 

“It seems like… oh, literally everyone lost an adoption bet” Babs explained. Huh, so Steph didn’t change her stance.

Damian looked genuinely terrified as he muttered “No” eyes darting between everyone present in silent calculation.

“Oh, shut up” Duke whined knowing all too well his stalling had to come to the end. Maybe it was wishful thinking but he almost heard roar of engine of Steph’s motorcycle. Her presence would be double edged sword but she would help him advocate for Dani and that was more important.

“Thomas, what have you done?!” if it was anyone other than Damian, Duke would call sound he made a whine. As it was, he preferred his entrails to stay inside and since the boy showed up, called by thought, the older boy preferred not to take risks.

“Nothing, Babs is overreacting”

“Don’t deny it. She went about it kinda Tim Lite style but it worked”

“I don’t even know her surname, where she stays or really, anything about her life outside of our patrols, how do you expect me to go about adoption?!”

“B knew even less about me when he decided, yes this tire thief is my new son!” Jason chimed in and Duke knew he was grinning despite voice modulator.

“What from my origin story was lost to make Lite version?”

“Identities weren't breached as far as we're aware. Just ‘came one day and refuses to leave’ part and some light stalking. She was smart about it, invisible, keeping out of sight and to the hot spots. Wouldn't find her if I didn't know she was there”

“She could still just not tell, I mean I knew for years before telling anyone…”

“There is no way. Believe me, she has no brain-mouth filter, I swear”

“But-”

“She introduced herself by her first name,” Duke deadpanned ”She told me civilian names of heroes from her hometown, in context that didn't require me to do any actual research to clue me. I did anyway. I don't think she even realized she did it. If she knew our identities we would know already”

There was a moment of silence as everyone digested the thought of just how gigantic breach Dani accidentally caused.

“Well, it's as good of a proof as we can get for now,” Babs bristled. 

“Who let her in on such secrets then?!” Damian sounded genuinely appalled and Duke wasn't too surprised.

Like on a cue, Steph stormed inside on her Spoiler in civies. Bruce looked about ready to get aneurysm. Duke was a bit glad that everyone was doing such good job in distraction department.

“IT’S OKAY, WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE!” Steph yelled, jumping from before her vehicle fully stopped. She threw something small in general direction of Batcomputer “Timmy plug it in, I made a PowerPoint!”

Duke felt blood leave his face. He wasn't sure if he wanted to know what Steph put together but he probably didn't. Tim opened it anyways.

WHY HOOPOE IS ADORABLE&CHAOTIC BEAN AND SHOULD BE PART OF THE TEAM

The title slide said, one of the clearest photos of Dani from before she started wearing mask in the background. It was close-up of girl smiling, bits of brownie on her cheeks.

“Was this photo taken with a goddamn calculator?” Tim asked with disgust so clear Duke could taste it. Metaphorically of course.

“Nah, just body-cam. Her powers mess with technology a bit”

Tim still looked displeased at the craftsmanship.

“Don't worry, it's not  a bad photo. Baby Bird is just being perfectionist,” Dick placated.

Duke didn't realize that Damian froze until he unfroze and made his way to the screen, stopping less than one foot away from it. His movements were rigid, his face scrunched with distress. Alfred the Cat escaped its master probably due to hoe tense he was. Everyone in Cave quietened as soon as boy took first step and expecting mood had to run through microphones because nobody from the on-line crowd quipped in.

“This is the green of Lazarus” he whispered finally, sounding actually scared. Jason swore. Bruce and Cass visibly stiffened. Tim choked and he wasn't even drinking. Dick did his whinny breezy name saying thing when he wanted explanation and felt lightly betrayed. 

It was Duke's turn to freeze because… it wasn't. Of course he wasn't all that well versed in the Pit, less alone its color but he did bust quite a few trafficking rings with Jason and he saw his eyes afterwards all raging, toxic, neon green glory and it wasn't the same as Dani’s. As much as he liked English and how good he was at it, it failed him at simple task of describing the obvious difference between each other. He'd have more luck describing tastes with set of color samples from IKEA or something. And really, even if he tried he would lose the fight of competence with Damian. Who wouldn't.  But-

“There is no way she has any connection with LOA”

“Why is that?” Damian seemed to misinterpret it as challenge like he always did when emotions were running high. Duke took a deep breath. Well, it was a moment to use all of his diplomatic skills and speak in the language of the demons.

“I've seen her fight. She would be utter disgrace”

“It does not prove-”

“It does” Duke interrupted with the tone and mimic of person who saw too much because he did ”None of you have any say until you watch a tiny and I mean tiny ten year old tackle five Joker goons like it's a joke, by sheer virtue of super strength and intangibility-means-I-can-ignore-bullets-Signal-don’t-be-such-worrywart. She should get shot, like, three times at least. And she kept laughing!” he was low key wheezing at the end because even after all this time (a week) it was fucking horrifying. Bruce made a huff that meant he was laughing and put a hand on his shoulder as a sign of support. Dick's lighthearted laugh sang from the speakers.

“Don't worry Duke, it never gets better” B said with mirth.

He refused to elaborate whether he meant ‘kids keep jumping into danger like there is no tomorrow‘ or ‘it's equally terrifying every time’ and Duke decided to reflect on that sentiment later. It put some things into perspective. A lot of things if he was being honest.

Also, he was not ready for stuff like that to become even semi-normal occurrence. He was ready to give her all of his Alfred cookies if it could change anything. He knew it wouldn't. 

“Do you have any other evidence that your new acquaintance does not just fake being less experienced to make you lower your guard?” Damian asked warily.

“I had to teach her out of putting her thumb in her fist,” he deadpanned. Several people hissed in empathetic pain. Steph coughed to bring attention to where she stood in front of Batcomputer, other slide of her Power Point open. Duke recognised video from his body-cam.

“Exhibit A” she announced. She played a video with Dani’s first mugging attempt he witnessed. Let it be said, it was a disaster.

“Exhibit B '' One of Dani’s most epic fails at side-kick that ended with her falling face first to the ground.

“Exhibit C” Dani fumbled with zip-ties, looking at him utterly at loss.

“Exhibit D” the talk about her prior training.

“What’s was that sound?” Dick obviously on the verge of cooing when girl on video growled. Steph stopped video.

“Very angry kitten” Tim stated with soft smile.

“Honestly, furious girl” Cass corrected “She was really mad at you”

“Yeah, I know but promise of Alfred’s cookies was enough to placate her”

“You gave her Alfred’s cookies?!”

“She started by giving me a lot of food on a really shitty patrol, had to repay somehow”

“Was it from your share or-” Dick asked like it was most important thing in the world.

“Miss Hoopoe was added to my plans after she picked her new name” Alfred explained and shit, Duke really should get used to how man just appeared sometimes. Jumpscare the original.

“Alfred, you knew?” Bruce sounded so utterly betrayed.

“I have yet to meet her but I was informed about her presence about two weeks ago”

“He caught me printing mask for her”

“About that” Steph clapped and skipped her slide show “Look at thi clueless child with such horrible disguises and codename ideas” There was whole list of every name Dani wanted to try out and photo of her bare face.  Duke kinda repressed his memories of it. It was worse than he remembered.

“Did she really tried kenting that?”

“Got it after her cousin. He used his first name as part of his alias for almost half a year” Duke admitted in carefree tone, knowing it would cause a mess.

“Cousin?!” several people yelled in surprise.

“Caped cousin?!”

“Yup. Small time hero from Illinois. As far as I’m aware she’s alone in Gotham but they’re in regular contact and she has strong believe that he can and will help her if she used her panic button”

“Who in their right mind let’s kid alone in Gotham?!” Jason sounded about ready to strangle Phantom.

“He seems to be fifteen himself. And has anti-meta parents if I’m picking things up correctly. She didn’t mention them much. I highly doubt she has present parents at all, so…”

“What the hell Narrows.”

“I don’t know, it’s just a wild guess”

“Does it call for the rescue?” Steph asked eagerly.

“We’re not going to Illinois to rescue Phantom if he doesn’t ask for it. He has means to it” Bruce interrupted with bone deep sigh.

“How do you know I meant Phantom?” Duke perked up because he never mentioned this name.

“He is from Illinois, looks almost the same as far as I can tell from the photos and they share a lot of powers”

“I didn’t know you knew about random kid hero from other state?”

“He dropped by on few Justice League’s mission. There is still dispute whether we should approach him in his city or not. He was very clear on his opinion that we should stay away. I think we really shouldn’t”

“How you haven’t gone or sent anyone there yet?” Tim teased.

Bruce just stared at him then gestured at mountain of cases they were currently working on. Yes, they were printed. Apparently for man it made it easier to work on them like that.

“Can we focus back on untrained child you let join you on patrol, Duke?”

“You act like I could stop her from doing her own thing if I didn’t  let her. Plus, even though she doesn’t have combat training, she can handle herself well enough. And has this damn intangibility that makes her really hard to punch”

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t tell anyone other than Alfred and Steph and I wanted to wait a bit before leaving her to the wolfs”

“The bet”

“Shut up Steph”

“When did you plan on letting us know?” Bruce ignored what blonde insinuated. Duke was utterly grateful for that, he knew he would get lecture for that later but he was more than happy to leave it be for now.

“Somewhen next week. I hoped to introduce her gradually but apparently everyone knew already?”

“Kids tell me things. Hoopoe made a good impression on them” Jason explained.

“Hero sightings on Twitter” Dick admitted without a shadow of shame.

“What he said” Tim agreed “This person from crochet dolls made one for your kid too, so in public eyes she’s our already”

“For the last time, she isn’t my kid!” Duke groaned but as always went ignored.

“Nobody expected old man’s tendencies to rub on you so fast, Narrows”

“Shut up and this is half a reason I didn’t let you meet her. All of you”

“With all due respect Duke” Babs started teasingly “You gave us ammo yourself. You improved her diet, you brought her to The Food Track Of Mental Breakdowns, you teach her stuff, you check in on her almost as often as her cousin and their friends do…”

“How did you hack her pho- No, wrong question, why?!”

“We’re all paranoid bastards, I needed to check out the newest bird. She legally doesn’t exist btw so I suspect some shady stuff with her birth but otherwise nothing sus about her. Comms and trackers for her are waiting in drawer C19. You will give it to her tomorrow”

“Aye, aye captain Oracle ma’am” he joked.

“Wait, you showed her The Food Track?”

“She deserved it” he gritted out.

Before this could turn into a fight or something, Alfred demanded:

“Since we are all on the same page now, I would like to extend an invitation for family dinner to miss Hoopoe”

“We’ll eat it down here in full costumes”

“As you wish master Bruce. Master Duke make sure to let her know”

“Of course Alfred”

And he planned to do that but Dani didn’t show up. He hadn’t thought much of it because she was unpredictable like that. She tended to disappear from the face of the Earth for a day or two and return with tales of her “autograph hunting trips”

But then she didn’t show up on the next patrol too. It was unprecedented. And she hadn’t responded to the check in. Three times in the row. He was getting kinda sick from the stress.

He knew Dani well enough, she wouldn’t ghost him like that and in Gotham disappearing meant three things: getting kidnapped, trafficked or six feet under. To their knowledge, Dani didn’t have anyone who would pay ransom for her other than Signal and no demands were made so the first option was out.

Bats launched full fledged search.

Duke himself found and busted two trafficking rings in three weeks which was around how much he did in two months on a daily basis.

Thanks to Oracle, they found Dani’s utterly crashed phone in the dead end in the Narrows. It didn’t look any better.

Duke really hoped they wouldn’t be too late.

With each day it seemed more likely.

********

Bruce: *wants to have private conversation with his son about unknown child he's been working with*

All of the Batfam: Hello there

Duke: I managed to keep Dani secret my family of detectives!

Everyone other than Bruce: I knew for past two weeks, but goood job kid

Random o Twitter: I'm sooo disappointed with Signal for letting Hoopoe fight crime. She is just a little child, she shouldn't have to witness Gotham's worst

Other Random: Have you heard about Robin????? Have you seen teories that Signal is teenager???? With proofs????? Are you mad at child for not taking proper care of the other child????? That's messed up my dude/gal

Yell at Batman

Signal: You act like she isn't personification of feral cat I try to coax home so I can prevent her from getting in trouble. I dare you to try and stop her

Phantom: I do too, 100$ if you manage. It would save me from so much stress

Random: Now, who the f*ck are you?!

(Guess who never touched Twitter with 20 meters stick in her life)

Next part

Tag list: @pickleking8 @mynameisnotlaura

[dropthedemiurge]

Love for Love's Sake | Things You Didn't Notice #4 | Fight with Homophobes

Honestly, I wanted to dissect these scenes right away but then we got the rest of the show uploaded and the emotions overshadowed me. But now we're diving into informal Korean speech, swearing and slurs! It's going to be a fun post, let's go :D

Disclaimer: I'll be writing down both English and Korean slurs strictly in educational manner, obviously.

"Fuck. You two are always so fucking close together. (to Myungha) Are you also a faggot (homosekki)? Wow, Kyunghyun's skills are so good." "Why are you so vulgar? What's wrong with being homo?" "You're really crazy. Are you criticizing me?" ... (Myungha kisses Tak Junho) " Ah fu— You damn faggot!" "We both kissed. I'm not the only one who's homo. You're homo too~" "You did it yourself, you faggot!" "Ah, our Junho keeps saying 'homo'. Tss, slurs are forbidden." "Shut up, you faggot." "If you call me homo one more time, I can steal your lips for real. (Junho is silent) Ha, afraid you'll be robbed?"

Honestly, I like the translation in subs this time, I just wanted to give you a more technical version (and to show you the difference, because in Gaga subs the f slur is also used by Myungha but it's not exactly that)

So, as far as I noticed, the slur in Korean is a derivative from the term "homosexual" - thanks to the similar sounding, it became "homosekki" (from sekki - asshole, bastard, bitch etc). This is the word Junho keeps using in almost every sentence. And the socially accepted common term is now "gay" (at least, the cast and couple from Korean reality dating show "His Man 2" refers to themselves as 'gay' and not 'homo').

Myungha uses the original term, just "homo", which also gained a negative connotation but doesn't include a 'sekki' swearword. So he keeps saying "homo" to talk back in the language Junho used, only less derogatory. We'll see later but it's amazing, because both Myungha and Sangwon confidently used this word about themselves (Sangwon even went further and proudly reclaimed the slur itself).

Still, Myungha did threaten gangster Junho not to even call him "homo" or any similar terms. And here's the moment which made me laugh: in the next scene with Sangwon, Junho was angry ranting about Myungha, but he caught himself using the slur "homosekki" and quickly changed to the modern and neutral term "gay". LOL

Which is what Gaga subs failed to show it to us. Again, let's see more technical translation:

"I'll go after Tae Myungha and Ahn Kyunghoon soon, just so you know. Those fa– Those gay bastards must die. That fucker Tae Myungha kissed me in the lips, shit. Isn't it fucked up? It was disgusting." (Sangwon, pouting) "Wow, really? It must've been nice." "Jeez, you asshole. You're not a victim so you dare talking shit." "I'm being serious, though?" (Junho, appalled) "What the hell are you talking about? You're not a faggot." "I am a faggot, though?"

One, why is it so funny that the first reaction Sangwon had, hearing about Myungha kissing someone in a fight, was: awww :( i wish it was me :((( you so lucky :((

Second, it's hilarious how the gangster ends up the ONLY person who ever uses nice and modern term "gay" once in this show because our protagonists both hit him back with the derogatory terms (Sangwon even attached the slur to himself, when he only liked girls before falling in love with Myungha at first sight, what a legend).

Let's wrap it up with slurs and check out another small detail: informal speech in Korean.

(Sangwon to Myungha)"Why would we fight here?" (Yeowoon to Sangwon)"Hey, watch your tone (don't use informal speech)" "Was I talking like that with you?" "Talk curt (informally) only with me." "I'm already being curt (talking informally) with you."

This one is definitely a cultural thing that always gets lost in translation (but "being curt" is a nice way of putting it). There are two general styles of speech in Korean: Formal (존댓말, jondemal) and Informal (반말, banmal). Of course, it's a lot more complicated in the language, but I'll paint briefly the differences that are pointed out in the scene.

I talked in previous posts about properly addressing your senior in korean (usually by title/position). To convey respect to your senior, you also use 요 (yo) at the end of the sentences – and both Sangwon and Yeowoon talk politely to Myungha. UNTIL Sangwon uses the rude version of a question, without polite ending ("Why would we fight here?"), to which Yeowoon protests and tells Sangwon that it's banmal, informal speech, and he should only use it with him.

Because with your friends, same age people (Yeowoon and Sangwon in this case) or people younger than you, it's normal to use their names with different intonations (Think Myungha's "Yeowoon-ah, Yeowoon-ie") and talk informally.

(Yeowoon to Myungha) "I asked who it was." "You're being curt (that's an informal speech)".

Fast forward – Yeowoon loses patience and demands Myungha "I asked who it was", question without polite ending as well. To which Myungha cheekily says "that was an informal speech", reminding Yeowoon of his own remark to Sangwon.

Fast forward again – and now I have to take back my previous statement from another post that Yeowoon never called Myungha by his name because I found the rare case of him doing it xD

"Tae Myungha is so frustrating." "You're speaking informally more often these days."

Again, a youngster! calling his senior! by his own name! Not using the polite ending! The horrors of informal speech. He's not being too rude but he's sulking therefore he's rebelling. Though I can swear, again, Yeowoon hears Myungha's scolding and resorts back to speaking politely, and from now on, he'll keep using 'senior'.

If you survived until the end of this post, congratulations! The second half probably wasn't needed but in case you're learning Korean or you want to know why these seemingly normal phrases are being considered "curt" out of nowhere, I hope you understand it now a little bit better :)

// Previous messages translation + other language moments here //

[goosewriting]

Hey I loved your baby from the future series, and was wondering if you could do mikey?? no rush tho! I love your writing style btw!

🦆 anon @duckanon

All them bebes! 🥺 (rottmnt Mikey x reader)

summary: several turtle babies suddenly appear in the lair, and they look suspiciously a lot like Mikey

relationship: Rise!Mikey x GN reader

warnings: none

word count: 2.2k 

A/N: here we go with the grand finale ✨ (welcome duckanon btw!) this one was by far the hardest to write of the four, so i really hope you like it! ♥ i had gotten an ask for mikey’s part for a reader that has been alone almost all their life and accepted that they’d never be a parent even though they really wanted to, so i incorporated that, thanks for the idea!

More “Baby 🥺” versions: Leo | Raph | Donnie | Mikey (you're here)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

On a rainy Saturday afternoon, there wasn‘t a lot to do, so you decided to spend the day at the lair with your favourite turtle. You were in Mikey‘s room, with him lying on his belly on the bed, and you at his desk. Art supplies were scattered all around the place, and you both listened to some lo-fi while very focused on the masterpieces you were crafting.

Suddenly, there was a series of zapping sounds behind you. Confused, and slightly startled, you turned around on the squeaky office chair you were sat in, and saw some yellow flickering lights above the floor, of which a turtle tot came crawling out. Before you could even process what you were seeing, the lights disappeared, and there was a new flash of yellow a couple of feet to the side. With another turtle baby. Your eyes quickly shot up in Mikey’s direction, just to make sure that he was aware of this too and you weren’t just imagining things. To your partial relief, he looked just as shocked as you.

You didn’t even get to push yourself off the chair to stand up, as you were planning to, when the new wave of zapping lights appeared above you, and you looked up in horror. Out of thin air appeared yet another turtle baby, falling into your lap. You caught it with a squeal of surprise, which was reciprocated by a gleeful one coming from the baby.

One last zap, on the bed this time, accompanied by not one but two turtles, and then the flickering lights disappeared entirely, leaving you and Mikey very confused, as you were suddenly surrounded by five little turtle lots, all stumbling as they tried to stand up on short, wobbly legs. They all looked around curiously, the one on your lap looked slightly lost, even. But when you looked at the pair on the bed, you immediately recognised two little faces ready to cause some mischief.

However the two tots skillfully manoeuvred over the bunched up blankets to reach Mikey, cooing at him and climbing into his lap, as he was trying to stand up from the bed. Of the two turtles that had appeared on the floor, one waddled towards you, holding onto your leg and squishing its cheek against your knee once it reached you, while the other swiftly made its way to Mikey, making grabby hands at him and asking to be picked up. 

In your stupor and inability to speak, you intently took in the scene. They all had yellow splotches like Mikey, and were very freckly, the one in your lap having the most. They all had one thing in common though: all five were absolutely adorable. 

Seeing that the turtles on Mikey’s lap were in essence the spitting image of the few baby photos you had seen of your boyfriend, you smiled to yourself.

“If i didn't know any better I'd say they're your kids,” you told Mikey, looking at the little turtle in your lap and smiling widely, to which it cooed and waved at you. “They look just like you!”

“We have to get Donnie here asap,” Mikey said instead, ignoring your comment for the time being, although the faintest of blushes on his cheeks did not go unnoticed by you. He somehow managed to pry himself free of the three little turtles on him, leaving them on the bed instead, three pairs of curious eyes looking after him as he left to get his brother. After he was gone from view, all three heads turned towards you in comical synchrony. 

“So…” you started, picking up the second baby into your lap that had been pulling on your trousers impatiently. “Where are your parents?” 

Wow, look at you, trying to make conversation with a bunch of kids, you thought to yourself. Except that they all pointed at you without hesitation. 

Wait what? 

As you were trying to make sense of this, let’s be honest, pretty ridiculous situation, the pair of turtles that came in together started to get rowdy. If you had to guess you’d have said they’re the only pair of twins out of the five, with how they were always clinging to each other and even the splotches on their arms and faces seemed to be mostly identical. You weren’t sure what they were fighting about, but the pushes started getting stronger and their voices louder as well. You tried to calm them down but they were not listening, and you couldn't exactly get up, as the turtle you had picked up was trying to climb onto your head, pulling at your shirt. 

Before you were able to stop them, one of the twins pushed the other off the bed, and he fell to the floor with a slight clunk. You held your breath for a second, hoping he’d walk it off, but he started crying. With a deep sigh and an “alright” that was directed more towards yourself than the turtles, you got up and brought everyone to the bed, sitting down yourself as well. You picked up the crying turtle, bringing him into your lap, and you gently rubbed his head where he hit the floor. 

“There, there,” you cooed, giving him a little kiss, and that seemed to do the trick as he calmed down immediately. The other turtles protested, trying to climb into your lap as well; they all wanted kisses.

You chuckled at the sight, feeling like a horde of puppies was about to overwhelm you. You gave kisses left and right, trying your best to get everyone an equal amount. Just as the twins had finally calmed down and were about to doze off, tightly holding onto your arm and each other, Mikey appeared again at the door, Donnie behind him. 

The purple-clad turtle took one hard look, stopping in his tracks, taking in the scene before him. Mikey gave him a friendly slap on his shoulder to encourage him to go in there and do the thing.

With a sigh and an unreadable expression, Donnie approached you and started scanning the turtles with a handheld device of sorts. The turtles were silent but curious, following his movements with interest, and so did you. 

Then, Donnie proceeded to scan you, and then Mikey. The device calculated something, and his wrist brace beeped, showing a result in text hovering over his arm, so you were able to read it from where you were sitting.

“Congrats” Donnie first deadpanned, placing a hand on Mikey's shoulder. But then a slightly amused smirk appeared on his face. “You two made me an uncle.”

“What?!” you and Mikey said in unison, shocked, looking at his wrist again. The text read: “99.88% DNA match”.

“I'll be in the lab trying to figure out how to get them back into their timeline,” Donnie remarked, leaving the room as if he didn’t just say that you were surrounded by your turtle kids from the future. 

You were holding the twins in your arms, and another that had gotten behind you was leaning against your back, tiny head pressed between your shoulders; all three were about to fall asleep. The other two turtles were on either side of you, looking up at Mikey and asking to be picked up by him when he approached you. He took one into each arm and took a long look at each with a smile. His gaze shot up to you when he suddenly heard you sniffling.  

“Whoa, you okay?” Mikey asked worriedly.

“Yeah, I'm just... Trying to process this,” you replied, unable to wipe away your tears as your arms and hands were currently cradling the turtles, so the tears freely rolled down your cheeks and fell onto your shirt.

“That we get kids at some point?” Mikey asked, almost sheepishly. You slowly nodded your head, but it turned into shaking, as it wasn’t just that. 

“More like… That I have a family at all,” you admitted. “One of my own.”

One of the turtles in your lap stirred and his little hand reached yours, holding onto your index finger. Now you were trying to hold back sobs so as to not wake them up, but you were unsuccessful. The twins blinked a couple of times, then looked up at you with a slight frown. Even the two in Mikey’s arms looked all worried that you were in distress. 

Suddenly all five turtle babies started humming. At first it was a little desynchronised, but it quickly turned into a lullaby melody, one you hadn't heard in a very long time. This made you cry even harder, and Mikey sat down on the bed, so that all five turtles could hold onto you. 

You smiled through your tears at the whole situation; they were comforting you when really it should be the other way around. Even Mikey’s hand was gently rubbing up and down your back, his brows furrowed together, trying to come up with something to say. He knew you had been alone most of your life, but he loved you so much and wanted to give you the world because you deserved it and more; it hurt him to see you thinking you couldn’t have a family of your own. 

By now the song was over, and the babies just held tightly onto you. Mikey opened his mouth to say something, when a comically loud grumble filled the room for an embarrassingly long time. You laughed, finally able to get one arm free, and brought it up to rub over your face with the back of your sleeve.

“Was that the tots or you, Mikey?” you asked with a chuckle.

“I think that was all of us,” he replied, and five little heads nodded in agreement. “How about some food, then?” They all squealed in glee, starting to climb off the bed and running around. 

To keep them apart, you decided to put stickers on their shells, like Mikey had on his plastron. They all got to choose the one they liked best, and after they were marked, the whole group took off to the kitchen.

Mikey quickly whipped up something safe for the little turtles to eat, and make food for you and himself as well. After you were all full, you went back to Mikey's room and decided to make a nap pile on his bed. 

Unable to sleep, while the rest was happily snoozing, you got up and started gathering some crayons and pencils into a box so the turtles could draw after they woke up. 

Suddenly there was that zap again, and you turned around in shock, hoping that there weren't more little tots to take care of until Donnie figured out something, but you were frozen in place as this swirl of lights was far bigger than the others you had seen. Who, or what would come in through there?!

Your mouth hung slightly agape in disbelief when an older version of none other than Mikey came hopping into your timeline, looking around until his gaze met yours. That's when behind him came another figure, and it was Leo, except that he was way taller (oh he’d love to have a growth spurt like that for sure), and he had a… mechanical arm? Just what was going on?!

This Leo first saw the nap pile and went “aww, look at them” but the older Mikey quickly shushed him. Then he turned to you with a gentle smile, his orange cloak swooshing around his ankles.

“Let's not wake them up,” he explained. “The less Mikey versions everyone sees, the better. Especially the kids.”

“Are you here to… pick them up?” you asked, unsure if you were relieved that the babies would go back to where they belonged, or sad because you wanted to spend some more time with them.

Mikey nodded with a warm smile, and held your hand. Meanwhile Leo started carefully picking up the babies from the bed. In his big arms they suddenly looked so much smaller and frail. You felt a light squeeze to your hand, so you brought your eyes back to Mikey.

“I wish the surprise hadn’t been spoiled but,” he said, leaning in and placing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s quite the roller-coaster. Look forward to it.”

“I already am,” you admit, holding onto his hand for one more moment, then letting go so they could leave.

Leo gave you a knowing nod with his head and an encouraging smile as he stepped through the portal. Mikey turned around one last time before leaving, shooting you a wink, which you responded by playfully sticking your tongue out at him, as you would usually do. 

The lights flickered for a second, and then they were gone, leaving you standing alone in the dark room. Wiping over your face one last time to dry the remaining tears, you climbed into the bed with a sigh, and it felt much too big and empty now. You scooted closer to Mikey and he instinctively wrapped his arms around you, planting a sleepy kiss on your forehead. You sniffled into his plastron, trying your hardest to calm down and not wake him up.

Eventually, Mikey's steady breaths started lulling you to sleep, and as your eyes finally closed, you hoped to dream with five little turtles.

~~~~~

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