#even if he got to grow up outside a statue

[owl-bones]

dream with trust issues.............

[rafesfavgirl]

covered in you — r. cameron

part 1. this isn’t technically a part 2, but definitely could be, so take it how you want it ;) enjoyyyyy

❝ oh, i can't stop you putting roots in my dreamland my house of stone, your ivy grows and now i'm covered in you ❞

pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader

context: for the first time since you and jj broke up (you found out he was cheating on you with kie), you go out to a party on figure eight, where a certain blond kook finds you.

words: 1.3k+

warnings: definitely +18. mdni. revenge sex (i don't condone… unless it's with rafe ofc), p in v sex, praise kink, hair pulling, fingering, slight spanking, SMUT with little to no plot

"well, well, who do we have here?" you hear a familiar drawl while sitting at the egde of some kook's pool wearing only your bikini, your feet hanging in the water.

you tilt your head up and roll your eyes, going back to sipping on your drink.

he chuckles at your choice to ignore him. "y/n y/l/n," your name leaves his mouth as he moves to sit beside you. "what brings you to this side of the island?"

"what's it to you, cameron?" you ask, turning your head towards him.

"no reason," he shrugs, sipping on his own drink. "just figured you'd be busy with that loser pogue boyfriend of yours."

"well… not that it's any of your business, but we broke up two weeks ago," you tell him.

you weren't really sure why you did, but it must've had something to do with the alcohol currently running through your system.

a snicker falls from his lips. "oh, shit."

"i'm so glad you find that amusing," you say.

"no, no, it's not that," he stops laughing, now locking your eyes with his. "it's just…"

"what?"

"you are so out of maybank's league," he says. "i'm surprised you even gave him a chance."

"you really think so?" you ask, the alcohol clouding your judgment. "pogue status and all?"

had he always been so sweet?

"oh yeah," he nods. "guy's a fucking idiot."

your eyes trail over his face, half-expecting him to be joking, before trailing down the rest of him from his broad shoulders to his sculpted arms, his strong chest, and finally, his defined abs.

fuck. were you seriously hot for rafe cameron right now?

the vodka taking over you, your next few words catch him by surprise. "you wanna get out of here?"

a smirk playing at his lips, he stands up and holds a hand out to you. "come on," he nods his head to the side. "my truck's outside."

—

"god, maybank fucked up," rafe says between kisses, his hands trailing all over your body as you grinded your hips against his.

you let out a giggle and throw your head back, your hands tugging on his hair as he sucks softly on your neck.

"you got a condom?" you ask, your fingers tangling through his hair.

he reaches towards the center console, and opens it, pulling out a small blue wrapper. "right here," he pulls his lips away from you and holds the condom up between you, a smirk on his lips. "get in the back."

you happily oblige and move from his lap to go between the two front seats, over the console and into the backseat.

rafe quickly hops out of the car and opens the passenger seat to join you, closing and locking it behind him.

"fuckkkk baby," he says, his eyes glazing over your bikini body from the way the small fabric of your triangular top clung to your breasts, to your exposed stomach, and finally, the spot between your legs, which was desperately aching for his touch.

"shut up and kiss me," you snake a hand behind his neck to pull him in for a passionate kiss, his mouth parting to give your tongue access to dance with his.

his hand trails up your thigh, causing goosebumps to rise on your skin as he stops by your hip and fingers the tie of your bikini bottom.

he slowly unties the string while you untie the other and lift your hips slightly to let him rip them off your body.

"shitttt y/n," he drawls against you, a finger swiping up your soaked cunt. "you're so wet."

"mhm," you nod, fingers gripping at his hair.

his thumb begins rubbing small circles on your clit, eliciting a small moan from your mouth.

he smirks against your lips. "you like that baby?"

"more…" you moan. "rafe…" kiss. "please."

he slips a finger into you, your mouth dropping open when he curls it inside you.

"say my name again, doll," he says, his lips connecting to your neck as you tilt you head back in pleasure.

he adds another finger, and begins slipping them in and out of you, the sound of your squelching juices filling the truck.

"rafe— fuck," you moan, closing your eyes. "just like that."

he continues at a slow pace before picking up the speed, his thumb working relentlessly on your clit. your orgasm begins to build in your core, one hand gripping tightly onto his shoulder as you feel yourself get closer and closer.

it's not long before your body is trembling and you come undone on his fingers, a deep chuckle emerging from his lips.

"damn baby," he smirks at your state and brings his fingers up to his mouth to suck your juices off of them. "you're sweet."

panting and coming down from your high, you let your back rest back against the seat, facing forward. "give me a second."

"oh, no, no, no," he tuts, leaning his head in towards your ear, as his hand reaches down to rid his bottom half of his shorts. his teeth grazes your ear in a nibble, causing you to tilt your head against him, while he opens the condom wrapper and slips it onto his long, hard cock. "i still need to see you ride me, pretty girl."

his arm snakes around your waist, grabbing your hip to swing your leg over him, putting you in a straddling position, your eyes only focused on him.

he looks down between the two of you, and positions his cock at your center, a moan escaping your lips at the slight contact.

slowly, but surely, he presses your hips down against him, every inch of his dick filling you up.

"fuckkk, you're so tight," he groans, throwing his head back on the seat as you lean down to pepper kisses on his neck.

"that feel good?" you ask, slowly beginning to bounce your ass on him. 

up. down. up. down.

"so so good," he says, a hand trailing up your back to tangle into your hair.

his other hand keeps you steady, his cock slipping in and out of you at a good pace.

"pull my hair," you whisper against his neck, and he does—tugging on your hair and making your head tilt back.

that elevates the pleasure and you begin bouncing faster on him, his hand gripping your ass tightly.

"just like that, baby," he groans, looking down to see himself going in and out of you. "just like that."

when you begin to slow down again, your thighs wanting to give up, he pulls you off of him. "turn around."

you do as your told, the alcohol and pleasure mixing together as you push your ass up in the air and lay your head against the seat.

"this is mine, now," he smacks your ass as you do, and repositions himself behind you, one knee on the seat as he aligns his dick with your cunt again. "you got that?"

he pushes into you without warning and leans his body down against yours. "who's ass is this?" he lays another smack on it, and you just know there's a red mark on it now.

"yours, rafe," you moan, as he begins ramming into you.

"that's right, pretty girl," a hand slips under you and grabs one of your tits, the fabric of your bikini top moving to the side as he twirls a finger around your hard nipple.

"so so good, rafe," you mewl, making him fuck you faster at the sound of you moaning his name.

another orgasm begins to build up inside you, every thrust pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

"yes, rafe," you moan. "keep going."

he does just that, sliding in and out of you at a rapid pace, the sound of his balls slapping against your ass ringing loud and clear.

"cum with me, doll," he whispers against your ear, as you reach your high.

he follows soon after you, his body falling limp against yours as he buries his head into the crook of your neck.

"we're definitely doing this again."

since i couldn't help myself, here's part 2/3.

safe to say i'm never listening to this song the same way again. reblogs and comments are deeply appreciated <33

click here to be added to my tag list!!

[artofchoisan]

A BODYGUARD'S PUNISHMENT

Cold!Bodyguard!Seonghwa x Heartbroken!Brat!University!Reader

The Plot: Being heartbroken was a norm for your life especially with your own parents not caring about you and just giving you money to keep you quiet. No matter how much chaos you caused or the one time you almost got yourself killed to which they didn't want their status to be ruined they just assigned you a bodyguard with whom you’ve had a past that only you and him knew of.

TW: Rough Sex.

Words: 2.3k

► ATEEZ MASTERLIST

Causing chaos all around you, drinking until only alcohol flew into your veins, wrecking havoc by organizing parties and sleeping around and not to forget stealing cars and smoking weed, you’ve done everything, yet none seem to care.

Your own parent couldn't give one single fuck about you, never a caring words nor a caring touch, they only threw money at you and wave their hands off and just assigning you a bodyguard so as you don't get yourself killed which they only did mainly for their own name to not get soiled.

Yet, you gave your own bodyguard so many shit to deal with, the countless time you’ve been a brat to him by running off away from him, getting on his nerves and always getting wine onto his suit as you grinned, you didn't hate Park Seonghwa, he was just doing his job but anything associated with your parents you hated, and this man was just another toy in their hands.

So there you were, into another one of your escape, lying into a bathroom floor with a bottle of vodka into your hands as you stared up, what the fuck was your own life? You couldn't even escape this life and just hope that once uni was done you could get out of this fucked up home and lead a life of your own.

“Here you are.” An exasperated sigh reached your ears, as you only look up to find your bodyguard rushing to your side and forcing you up, “Could you stop running out of my sight at least once.”

“No! Fuck off!” Forcingly removing your hand off his hold as you almost tumble down before he catches you again, “Give me a break will you.”

“It’s an order, we’re going.” His voice is tight and cold, not wanting to put up with any of your bullshit, you’ve been getting on his nerves for nearly a year, it’s a miracle he held up for so long, “It’s my job.”

As you struggled against Seonghwa you knew it was of no use, as he was two heads taller than you and much stronger, “I’m not going anywhere.” With that he still managed to drag you outside the bathroom, out of the club and managed to open the door of the car and threw you inside, “Behave now.” Voice lathered in a warning as he glared at you before getting into the driver’s seat and putting on the child’s lock, just to be sure.

“What were you even thinking?” Starting the engine as he drive towards your apartment, your only answer to him was a roll of your eyes, "This disappearing act is getting really damn old," Seonghwa lead on, sharp and deliberate, digging the hurt in your chest deeper, "You need to learn how to grow up before—"

“Shut the fuck up Seonghwa.” Your own voice is colder than ever before.

Then a sob broke through your own voice, your hands over your face as the tears threatened to fall and just like that more anger swirl inside of you, “I know, I’m a fucking mess and fucked up all I do.” Saying more through gritted teeth, “I’m an embarrassment to my own parents and just someone who can't do anything right, just a little pompous bitch who uses her parents money without thinking. I know what everyone thinks and knows what you also think.”

Letting your head lean against the car window, “Just drive me home Park.”

This rendered Seonghw quiet, his eyes glancing at your tired face from time to time, jaw unclenched as for a few seconds he almost felt pity for you, he wasn't blind to the actions or lack of actions of your parents to you.

Once his car reached your apartment’s parking lot, he unlocked your doors and with that you made a dash for the elevators, not wanting to see more of him. Luckily as he locked the car, you managed to catch the elevator and in mere seconds you were gone, leaning against the elevators, you let out a sigh.

Once it reached your floor, you lazily walked towards your door, quickly inserting your keycode and before you could get inside your arms were gripped in an almost deadly one and was thrown inside as you groan, the door slammed shut behind him, “Can you stop acting like a fucking kid? Whining and crying like one.”

Too tired, you only turned your back to him, what have gotten into Seonghwa? Had he finally snapped. And if he did, despite your own tiredness you wanted to test just how riled up you can rile him up.

“I’ll continue to act like a kid as you say.” Saying those words out of your own tongue, as you turned to him, a few meters away as you unzipped your dress right in front of him and despite the few seconds of shock from Seonghwa’s eyes, he said nothing trying to not wanting to let you win.

Your dress dropped down to the floor revealing your black lingerie that hugged your breast well right in front of him, a generous portion of skin all in full view in front of him as you turned before bending down to get your dress.

That’s when you felt it, a deep growl and a strong pair of arms around your waist, “You’re a fucking brat.” A venomous tone into your ear, “You keep getting on my nerves, playing with me.” His hand around your neck, tilting your head up as you felt his breath onto your skin.

“But you didn't leave, you like it just as much but you would never admit that, right Mr Park?” Almost laughing at your own words, “Always handling me and touching me.”

You’ve crossed way too much line in just a few days.

Seonghwa seemed to be releasing all of his pent up anger onto you, feeling his tongue, teeth and lips against your neck, biting and sucking leaving your naked canvas of your neck in a painting of red and purple marks, his tongue licking long stride along your neck, “You need to be taught a lesson brat.”

His fingers traced along your body, his other hand still around your neck as his lips and teeth never leaving the bruising canvas he was creating on your skin, “Going out to get fucked? Huh? Come on princess, you know the dangers of that.” He then pulled hard onto your panties, tearing it up before it slapped against your skin.

The cold air hitting your cunt as you gasped out, “Please Hwa, I want you.” Your hands working behind you as you quickly took off his belt and palm onto his crotch, “Please, please. I’ll be good to you.” This wasn't an unfamiliar situation, fucking with your bodyguard wasn't a new thing.

Seonghwa turned you around, gripping on your shoulders he pushed you on your bed, “Just look at you princess.” His grin turned sinister, “Thinking another man can even fuck you as good as I can. Do you beg for their cock as you do for mine? Do you whine and plead, begging for it as if your life depends on it?”

His anger did all the talking as he looked livid, finally letting his emotions take a hold of him after months of restraining himself, wanting to do his job, only wanting to protect you and burying his own feelings down but jealousy always rear its horns.

“Please Seonghwa, I want you.” Nor you, not being able to deny yourself of him, your feeling blossomed into something more for him, for once, one person truly and sincerely cared, yet his own principles always comes in the way, “Fuck me, I want you to wreck me.”

With that he delved his fingers into you, forcing a gasp, grabbing his arms, digging your nails in as he wrapped one arm around your waist and the other brushed against your clit. "You're soaked, Princess. Only I can make you feel like this, right?" He asked growling slightly as he bit at your ear "Something turning you on?" He asked and you whimpered in response, whining out.

"Hwa, fuck... slow down" You begged as he thrust his fingers in and out, his palm brushing against your clit, his bracelets rubbing against your lower stomach, forcing whines and whimpers from your lips.

"When you mean it, I'll slow down" He grunted out, pressing kisses along the side of your face as you gasped looking down watching his fingers plunge in and out of you, his cock pressing hard against your ass. "Do you want to cum on my fingers, Princess?" He asked softly and you gasped arching your back slightly as he pressed on your lower stomach as his fingers reached deeper inside of you.

"Seonghwa" You cried out, pushing against his arms as your release slammed through you, spasming around his fingers and soft whines leaving your lips as he continued to kiss along your jaw and down your neck. He smirked against your neck and pulled his fingers out.

Without warning he turned you around and forced his cock deep inside you as you cried out in pleasure, “Oh fuck! Yes! More.” His animalistic thrust meets you with so much pleasure, his cock thrusting in and out of you as his mouth comes closer to bite onto your shoulder as his deep grunt drives you even more insane.

Seonghwa was fucking you with no mercy, “Look at you being so desperate for my cock and now taking me in so well, so good, such a good little brat for me.” Chanting his name like a mantra as feeling him so good and so big inside of you and being fucked so dumb made you to lose it as you press yourself more against him chasing your own high, “Fuck, you’re so tight.”

“I could just leave you here,” Seonghwa warned yet his hips continue to fuck you even harder than before, his hold on your hips tighter than before, “I could just cum all over your back and leave you just like that, still all wet and horny, but we wouldn't want that, right princess.”

You were so fucked out, the tears in your eyes began dripping down your cheeks, “No please, Hwa. I need you, please don't leave me.”

Seonghwa’s demonic grin crossed his lips, “That’s my good girl, see you can be obedient when you want to.” Still thrusting into you, with no rest “I'm the only one who can make you feel this way. i’m the only person who can fuck you like this. you’re mine. say it, brat.”

“I’m all yours Seonghwa, only yours.”

With that you felt the knot onto your stomach tightened before the both of you came to your orgasm as you cried out in bliss, “Fuck.” Your body landed bonelessly onto the bed as you both were panting out, Seonghwa had removed himself from you as strings of white cum landed onto your back, “That’s my good girl.”

Once both of you had calmed down, Seonghwa helped you to lay more on the bed, his caring nature was what caused you to fall harder then he adjusted your hair and with a tender smile, Seonghwa leaned in and kissed your forehead.

“Love you..” mumbling out those words out of all the emotions into you.

The sweet atmosphere turned cold, Seonghwa froze and you immediately regret it. With a cold expression, he leaned back and stood up, adjusting himself in a robotic manner and his cold expression lying back into him.

“You can't keep doing that Seonghwa, you told it to me yourself before, you can't keep coming back fucking me out of jealousy, touching me and caring for me like that and then acting like that when I say the words you’re too scared to say.”

The secret had been out of the box, a few months ago when alcohol got the best of your system as you drowned into sin, you got quite intimate with your bodyguard who despite your wandering hands all over his body and your pleading eyes and whines, you’ve shared a night you’d never forget.

As the next morning had reached you, your secret was already out of bed and dressed sitting in the living room with eyes darting forward, thinking of a mistake he’d made but as the days went by, the man broke the first rule of being a bodyguard and it almost cost you your life one day, as he got distracted and it almost cost you your life.

After that encounter with death, you’ve found some warmth into the arms of your bodyguard whom this time had the both of you sober and this time he allowed temptation to take hold of his soul, gripping onto the chains of his own restraint, he ripped it out and took your mouth in his as you allowed sin and lust to consumed the both of you in a horrid night of sex.

“You know I can't, my job is to protect you. I can't fail, I can't let you get almost killed.”

Every time, after he allowed temptation to get the best of him, he would grow cold and distant and would only worry about your safety while his icy demeanor brought you some hurt that only caused for you to cry as you’d allow the pain to make you cry as you’ve had confessed to him to which he could only shake his head not wanting to break any more of his own rules.

“Seonghwa.” You sigh, face pinched into a hurt expression, “Listen to me, I love you, I’m not scared to admit that, you’re not careless, you protect me so please, let’s give this a chance, until I finish university, please.”

For a while, he was quiet and then he walked to you and dragged you into his arms, “I’ll trust you. I’ll protect you. For once I’ll be selfish, I won’t let you go so please bear with me for a while.” Then a smile appeared on his lips, “I love you too my little brat, I don't think I can live without you.”

“Neither can I, Mr Bodyguard.”

[hannahbarberra162]

Emperor's Prize (Alpha Shanks x Omega Reader) Part 2

18+ MDNI on Ao3

Seek medical attention for infected bite wounds.

The first chapter

The next chapter

Shanks POV

Hongo tilted his head to the side while contemplating your last statement. His mouth opened and closed before asking  “Captain, may I speak to you outside for a moment?” Shanks nodded, using his thumb to wipe away the tear tracking down the Omega’s face.

“Stay here, OK? I’ll be just outside the door,” Shanks said in your ear quietly, his stubble scraping against your cheek and earning him a shiver from you. Picking you off his lap with ease, Shanks set the Omega down on the unmade bed. You were still steadfastly looking down at your feet and avoiding eye contact with either Hongo or himself. Shanks stood up and followed the doctor, opening and shutting the cabin door gently behind him to avoid startling you. 

“Are you keeping her?” the doctor asked, letting out the breath he’d been holding.

Shanks hadn’t given it much thought in the short time he’d had the Omega on his ship. If Shanks was a better man, he could let her go back on suppressants while living in anonymity on a protected island. She’d made it years without being detected and likely could go back to doing the same. 

Or he could sell her and make a ton of Berri, maybe even equal to his bounty. This idea was dismissed as the thought of turning her over to someone who would traumatize her just as badly - or maybe worse - turned his stomach. Besides, the islands he protected were perfectly happy to supply him with whatever the crew needed. The Red Force was welcomed all over the Grand Line, Shanks had no need for more money.

“Yeah, I’m thinking about it,” Shanks said, rubbing his goatee. The idea to keep the Omega for himself had growing appeal. Your scent had started to perfume the cabin and it was taking everything in Shanks not to rub his nose on your scent glands. You had a subtle scent of lily of the valley and cedar that Shanks found incredibly appealing. With his status, power, and crew he could keep you safe from anyone else who would seek to have you. 

“Well, you’d better decide quickly. If you’re not keeping her, we need to get her off the ship immediately.”

“How much time do we have?” Shanks asked, peeking back in on your still form again. If he didn’t see you breathing and blinking, he would have thought you a statue.

“Only four to five days, and that’s if your presence around her doesn’t initiate her heat sooner which it likely will. If you’re not keeping her, we gotta put her in the infirmary, brig, or somewhere where your and Beckman’s scent is weak.” The mention of Beckman set Shanks on edge, surprising both himself and the doctor. He’d been friends with Beckman for over twenty years and this was the first time he’d ever felt anything so negative towards the man.

“How much do you know about Omegas?” 

Shanks hummed as he recalled that he had read a few books over the years, but hadn’t taken a particular interest in Omegas. He didn’t think he’d ever find one and he wouldn’t want to spend a single Berri on buying one through the slave trade. He’d bedded hundreds of Betas and even a few Alphas which had suited him just fine. “I know a little but not all that much truthfully,” he stated while looking at you through the circular window in the cabin door. You hadn’t moved an inch, your gaze still trained on the floor, sitting in the exact position Shanks had left you in. He could only imagine what Kid had done to you to train you to such a sick level of obedience. 

“We’ve got to get to an island and dock for the duration otherwise everyone’s gonna be miserable, especially Beckman. You’re not gonna want anyone else around her either.” 

“How do you know she’s going to be in heat?” Shanks asked, genuinely curious.

Hongo scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Doctor isn’t just a title, I went to a real medical school. I learned about all this and we need to get her ready. If this is her first heat like she’s saying it will be, it’s going to be intense.”

“What does that mean exactly? What do we need to do for her?” Shanks’s practical knowledge about heat cycles left something to be desired. He’d often glossed over those sections in manuscripts under the assumption that it would never apply to his situation. 

Hongo rubbed the back of his neck in thought. “If you’re keeping her, there’s a lot we need to do. First, she must bathe so I can tend to her wounds. After that, you’ll have to scent her. If you want the heat to go as smoothly as it can we need to erase any scent left from Kid and replace it with yours. That way she’s not searching for her old mate, even if they had a….bad relationship. We’ll need to get her soft, clean, unscented linens and blankets so she can make her nest. She needs to eat up - heats use a lot of the Omega’s reserves and she doesn’t have that much left. We need -”

Shanks cut off Hongo with a wave of his hand. “One thing at a time. First, let’s bathe her.” 

“After the bath, we’re gonna need Beckman,” Hongo stated.

“Beckman? Why?” Shanks was an Alpha too and stronger besides. Anything Beckman could do, Shanks could do better unless it took two arms. Belatedly, Shanks realized his feelings were the precursor to jealousy. He threw Hongo a frown before he carried on speaking in a sullen tone, “She doesn’t need him.”. 

“I’m gonna have to clean and dress her wounds,” Hongo explained.

“So? What does that have to do with him?”

“He’s gonna keep you from punching or trying to fight me. You’re not going to like watching me tend to her or hurt her, no matter if it's for her own good.” Shanks rolled his eyes at the doctor’s words.

“Pffff. It’s not gonna be like that, I can control myself. It’s not like she’s my mate,” Shanks scoffed.

“I’m getting Beckman,” Hongo stated, unmoved by Shanks’s self assuredness.

Your POV

You heard the Captain and doctor talking outside of the door but were lost in your own thoughts. You’d been off your homemade suppressants for a while but you had pointedly avoided thinking about the possibility of going through heat. You had chalked your rising temperature up to your wounds causing you to be feverish. Nuzzling into the cloak, you inhaled Shanks’s scent deep into your lungs. The velvety material and clean smell made you feel peaceful to the point of being a little sleepy. You ached to lay back on the comfortable looking bed and curl up into a ball but he hadn’t given you permission to. You wanted to pass and show that you could obey in case this was a test. Kid liked to test the limits of your obedience in creative ways and you’d learned your lessons the hard way. He would leave food out when you were hungry and punish you if you ate it, or leave out blankets when he’d told you to remain naked and enter his cabin randomly. So you sat even though you were bone achingly tired.

You tried to look about your surroundings surreptitiously while you waited. The wooden cabin was mostly tidy but well lived in. Clothes were piled on a lounge chair in the corner, a writing desk had letters, maps, and an inkwell on top, and a small bookshelf held a few tomes. A dark colored chest had more linens poking out of the corner while the bed you were perched upon was large and covered in fuzzy sheets and piled with blankets and pillows. You didn’t see any hooks or chains hanging from the walls, maybe the Alpha wasn’t going to shackle you to the bed. The room had the aroma of the Alpha and gave off the feeling of coziness, of snuggling under blankets on a cold night. It felt….homey.

The door opened and Shanks reappeared without the doctor. Watching the Emperor approach, you didn’t want to imagine his displeasure at finding you asleep on the bed when he hadn’t allowed it. Kid’s power was mind boggling to you and the Emperor had swatted him away like a fly. You would do anything to remain on the Emperor’s good side even if it was to your own detriment. You heard him approaching you and watched his sandaled feet stop in front of you. He didn’t stoop down to catch your gaze but you felt his hand land at the top of your hair. You winced, remembering all the times it had been pulled in the past. No pain came as Shanks just patted you and rubbed the strands of your dirty hair between his fingers.

“Hongo has to treat your wounds. We need to get you clean first though, yeah? And take these off too,” Shanks’ fingers left your hair as he spoke. He reached down into the cloak and pulled on the chain between the cuffs you were still wearing. Feeling the bed dip next to you, Shanks pulled one of the cuffs closer to his face to inspect the manacle. “Where’s the lock? They’re not welded shut,” Shanks noted. 

“Magnetic,” you said in your hoarse voice. Shanks’s face soured as he traced the smooth metal of the handcuff with his thumb.

“Ah.” Shanks seemed to mull your response over for a few moments before he commanded you to close your eyes. You complied immediately and heard crunching as the metal of your cuff fell off your wrists. You desperately wanted to see how the Emperor had gotten them off but you were waiting for his command. A warm and calloused hand rubbed your bruised wrist where the metal had been previously. “You can open them again,” Shanks said softly, running his thumb over your pulse. There were no weapons around and the Emperor’s sword was still sheathed within the scabbard. You could only guess the power he’d used to remove them. 

The door swung open and three men appeared, two carrying a metal tub filled with steaming water and the third with a bucket with toiletries. Shanks stood to put himself between you and the crew members, blocking them from your view. “Thanks, guys, just put it over there,” the Emperor requested, gesturing to the largest open area of the cabin. The men followed their Captain’s request carefully but a little water sloshed on the floor. Alarm shot through you at the sight of the water on the floor, and you hoped the Captain didn’t blame you or punish you for it. You nearly went to clean it but you hadn’t been told to leave the bed and the new men were still in the room.

“Is it time for introductions? I’m Lime -” one of the men began speaking in your direction.

“Ah, not now. Maybe later Lime Juice, sorry. Thanks for bringing the tub,” the Emperor said with genuine praise in his voice.

“No worries. Nice to meetcha Little Miss,” the man said easily. You didn’t reply. The men exited the cabin leaving only you, Shanks, and the piping hot bath. 

“Come on, then. Let’s get you in there while it's still hot,” the Emperor suggested. You nodded and stood up, shucking the Emperor’s cloak you’d been clutching.

Shanks POV

He shouldn’t have been surprised when you complied immediately, leaving his cloak on the bed and revealing your nude body. You’d been beaten into submission - if he told you to jump overboard he’d hear the splash shortly thereafter. His eyes raked over your form while you limped to the tub, noticing the bruising, the cuts, the marks he hadn’t before. Even in your currently broken form, you were breathtaking. Shanks’s fingers twitched with the desire to touch you but he stuffed his hand into his pocket for the time being, getting closer to aid your descent into the water.

“Why are you limping?” Shanks asked as you gripped the edge of the tub to lift yourself in. You froze in place, looking down at the water. Raising your foot behind you revealed a deep gash in the sole of your foot. Shanks crouched down to get a better look at the wound while capturing your foot in his hand. The doctor hadn’t inspected the bottom of your feet so he was sure Hongo hadn’t seen this one. The cut was clearly deliberate with how deep and uniform it was. Taking a deep breath to avoid swearing caused the tempting perfume of your cunt to hit Shanks’s nose. His first instinct was to hold you in place and run his tongue all the way up your legs till he reached your tantalizing pussy. Then he wanted to rub his nose up and down your slit until the scent of your pussy was all he could smell. Now wasn’t the time, you were shaking and tired and had a long way to go until you could rest.

“Ach. I wish you’d said something, are there any other cuts Hongo didn’t inspect?” Shanks said in mild admonishment. You licked your lips and nodded slowly. You were shaking, your shoulders hunched in to make yourself smaller. “Hey, don’t worry, I’m not mad,” Shanks said quietly, putting your foot back down and standing up, regrettably moving away from the scent of your groin. He cupped your face and rubbed his thumb over your cheek repeatably in an attempt to soothe you. “I’m not mad, I just need to know where you need medical attention. I can’t help you if I don’t have all the information, right?” You nodded, your hair obscuring your face from his view. “Where’s the other cut?” Shanks inquired while moving his hand to the small of your back.

You took in a deep breath and put your good foot on the tub, opening your legs to his eyes. At the very inner crease of your leg, where your thigh met your groin, was another infected bite mark. Shanks squared his shoulders and kept his face neutral. His first instinct had been to snarl at the offending sight but managed to restrain his response at the sight of you. Shanks saw your vacant gaze, shaking hands, and clammy skin and knew it would only make things worse.

“”S all right. We can let Hongo know later,” Shanks slipped on the mask of his affable nature as he spoke to smooth over the moment. “In ya go, Love,” Shanks said while picking you up by the waist and depositing you into the tub without warning. Shanks needed you in the water so your smell would dissipate before he lost control of himself. You hissed when your skin hit the water but otherwise made no movements. “Here you go,” Shanks said, handing you soap and a towel before dragging a stool over to sit near the tub. “You do your front, I’ll get your back.” 

You began lathering the washcloth with soap and warm water before you began rubbing down your arms and torso. Shanks maintained a steady one sided conversation while he started pouring water down your back. He was trying to acclimate you to the sound of his voice in an attempt to bring you comfort in what surely was an uncomfortable time. While lathering his own washcloth Shanks saw the formerly clear bathwater turning rust red with every swipe of your hands. As he began sudsing your back his eyes picked up faded scars he’d missed when looking over your more recent wounds. 

“I’m gonna wash your back now, ok? It’s hard to wash your own back and even harder when you only have one hand. There are more tasks than you’d think that require two hands, even beyond fighting or washing. Can you imagine how difficult buttons are to do with one hand? Or even tying boots? I have Beckman help me, that’s Benn Beckman, my first mate. You’ll meet him later, you’ll like him for sure. He looks gruff but make no mistake he’s a total sweetheart. He says that I milk it, and I do of course, but what’s the point of being a Captain if my first mate won’t hand feed me eggs every morning?” 

Shanks was acting casually but he noticed a miniscule shift in your mouth as he joked about Benn feeding him breakfast. You were close to smiling and Shank’s heart swelled with pride. He knew there was some glimmer of you buried deep within and he was going to bring you back to the surface. He finished washing your back and you’d washed your arms, torso, and legs but made no move to wash your hair.

“Do you want me to wash your hair, Love? I can if you’d like,” Shanks was trying to offer you as many simple choices as possible to show you that he wasn’t going to control every aspect of your life. You shook your head in response to his query. “Alright, go ahead then, almost done here,” Shanks said gently but to his surprise, you shook your head again. “No? I don’t mean to be rude sweetheart but your hair’s dirty, it needs to be washed.” 

“Cut it all off,” you rasped. Shanks tilted his head to the side, your request startling. Even male Omegas preferred long hair, it was simply a characteristic commonly associated with the dynamic. One of the most severe non-corporeal punishments an Omega could face was having a forced haircut. For an Omega to request a drastic haircut was unheard of. Your hair was long, indicating you’d been growing it long before Kid had gotten his hands on you even through your time being suppressed.

“Can I ask why?” Shanks questioned, picking up the soggy ends from the water. 

“Can’t be pulled,” you answered. You parted your hair in the back, showing a bald spot where your hair had been yanked out from the root. Shanks moved his stool so he was no longer sitting behind you but beside you.

“Look at me,” Shanks requested and you partially complied as you turned your head towards him. You looked at his chest but not at his face. “ Look at me,” Shanks repeated, this time with a Command. Not physically able to disobey an Alpha of his power, your widened eyes snapped to him. It was the first time he’d Commanded you to do anything, but this was important.

“I’m not going to hurt you. Not now. Not ever. You may not always like what I do, but I will never harm you. Do you understand?” Shanks said softly while stroking your cheek with his thumb. He’d done that a lot, he mused. Something about you called him to take care of you, to provide for you physically and emotionally. You nodded. “I’m gonna have to hear you say it,” Shanks said, almost sorry for forcing you to talk.

“I understand,” you stated in your ruined voice. Unsure if his Command was completed you continued looking at him. Shanks smiled at you and kissed the top of your head.

“I’ll tell you what, we’ll make a deal. I’ll wash and brush your hair for you tonight. If you still want to cut it off tomorrow morning, we will. We can have matching haircuts if you want,” Shanks said, flipping back his own hair for emphasis. A ghost of a smile turned up the corners of your lips as you nodded your consent to his deal.

Your POV

Your arms looped around your knees in the cooling water as Shanks washed your hair tenderly. You had been sincere in your wish to cut it - you never wanted to be dragged by your hair ever again. Shanks’s offer startled you since Omegas were often physically groomed to whatever standard the Alpha wanted regardless of how they felt about it. The bath had given you a lot of stress since you weren’t sure what to expect. Anything new, any deviation from the standard made you nervous since you couldn’t predict the outcome. It had been an all right experience but not as relaxing as the Emperor had anticipated. 

Shanks only had one hand but it didn’t slow him down when bathing you. He rattled on about whatever he was thinking about while you listened as he worked the soap onto your scalp and rinsed it. He was pulling the brush easily through your hair while telling you about a strange boy he’d met years before when there was a knock at the door. 

“Wait,” Shanks ordered in a tone more stern than he’d used when speaking to you. “Up, dear,” Shanks motioned with the hairbrush. The water dripping off you in rivulets left you exposed to the cold air making your skin erupt into goosebumps. Shanks quickly dried you off with a fluffy towel before he wrapped it around your body. After you were dried to Shanks’s satisfaction, he swapped the towel for a large purple robe, picked you up, and sat you on the chair by the desk.

“Come in,” Shanks said, sitting on the edge of the desk next to you. He took your wrinkly hand and held it in his own as you resumed staring at the floor. Three pairs of boots walked past and you heard them hefting the tub back out of the room.

“Blech, what’d she do? Bathe in mud?” one man said.

“Shut the fuck up,” Hongo replied calmly while coming to stand in front of you. He had his medicine kit again and you knew this part would be even less fun than the bath. Two pairs of boots stopped in front of you but you only recognized Hongo’s. The other male was also an alpha though not as strongly scented as Shanks.

“There’s a few more Hong,” Shanks said casually, stroking the top of your hand. “She’s got a cut on the sole of her foot and one on her inner thigh. Both need attention.”

“Alright, not an issue. Let’s get started,” Hongo said while setting his bag on the desk. “Over to the other side of the cabin,” Hongo ordered Shanks, who bristled immediately. 

“Nah, I’m gonna stay here,” Shanks said, keeping your hand in his own.

“No, you’re not. Go over there with Beckman. I don’t want to have to treat my own wounds in addition to hers when I stitch her up.” You cringed, waiting for the Captain to slap his subordinate but it never came. Instead, you heard a deep voice ushering the Emperor away from you.

“C’mon, Cap. ‘S for the best. We’ll be a few feet away and she’s a big girl, she can be apart from you for a minute or two.” You were guessing this was Benn Beckman, the first mate Shanks had told you about. Shanks whined in response but let go of your hand nonetheless.

“”M right here if you need me, Sweets,” Shanks reassured you as he receded. You didn’t protest but a part of you did wish Shanks was nearby. You didn’t feel all that comfortable around him but he was the person you were most familiar with. Hongo had been taking tools and liquids out of his bag in preparation for the procedures. After putting on a pair of glasses, Hongo snapped on a pair of rubber gloves.

“It’s not gonna feel great, but I’ll try to make it as painless as possible, OK? Let’s start with your neck, I think that’s the most severe. Did you wash it in the bath?” He asked, using the stool Shanks had previously occupied. You nodded in confirmation that you had followed the doctor’s orders.

“Let’s take a look, yeah?” You tilted your head to allow the doctor access to your neck. Even though you knew he was going to touch you, you still flinched when he made contact with your skin. “I’m gonna clean it and drain the pus. After I’m gonna have to stitch it,” the doctor informed you. You heard the sound of liquid moving and felt alcohol being applied to your neck. Not wanting to interrupt Hongo’s work, you stayed as still as you could even as the alcohol burned on contact with your wound. 

“See? Not even a single reaction outta me,” you heard Shanks say in the background and Beckman grunted in response to his captain.

After wiping down the area, you heard the clanging of metal as Hongo picked up a scalpel. You closed your eyes and waited for the sharp pain as the knife met your skin. Based on other wounds you’d received, you knew the doctor was trying to be gentle but you still hissed as he cut into you and pressed on the wound.

“No, sit down. She’s fine -”

“I AM sitting down, but I just wanna go -” 

“No, stay put.” You heard Shanks and Beckman arguing on the other side of the room. Hongo was right to bring the first mate, it sounded like Shanks was having a hard time watching the doctor tend to your wounds. You wondered if it was from possessiveness, like Kid, or because he didn’t like watching you being hurt. You didn’t think about it for long as a sharp pain crowded out your train of thought when the doctor began pressing on your wound to drain the pus.

“Not much more, almost there. It’s a deep wound, otherwise I wouldn’t have to stitch it.” You whimpered as the doctor pushed even harder for a moment, then covered the area with gauze. You heard scuffling again.

“Let go of me Benn, I need to - I said stop shoving me!” Shanks’ voice rose with more anger in his voice. His scent was starting to bloom, filling the air with the smell of oranges and cloves in an unconscious effort to soothe you.

“One more time and you’re out of the cabin until he’s done. Stop talking and distracting everyone. You know it’s for her own good so Let Hongo work,” Benn huffed. You couldn’t concentrate on Shanks anymore because the doctor started to stitch. You closed your lips into a thin line and screwed your eyes shut in a futile effort to block out the pain.

“Ah, relax, relax. If you tense your muscles it hurts more,” the doctor chided you gently as the needle pricked your skin over and over. You relaxed your face as much as you could. You’d had stitches before and you were no stranger to pain but the bite was in such a delicate and sensitive area you couldn’t help as a few tears escaped your eye. Finally, you heard the words you were waiting for.

“All done, just snipping the end of the thread. One more moment and we can move on.” Scissors were brought close to your face and snipped the end of the medical thread. “Look straight ahead for me?” Hongo instructed you, facing you head on. You looked forward, your neck aching with the effort. “And turn to the other side?” You turned and saw Shanks smiling and waving at you despite being held against the wall by Benn. You dropped your eyes after a moment too long.

“So what’s next? Shanks said you had a foot injury? Those are a real drag,” Hongo said, trying to make light conversation. You nodded and crossed your leg over your knee to show the doctor the sole of your foot. Hongo reached out to pick up your foot by the ankle and peered closely at the wound with his glasses.

“Knife?” he asked abruptly. You nodded. “Accident?” You shook your head. 

“Punishment. Ran away,” you said quietly. Hongo hummed and tilted your foot. You used the extra fabric of the extravagant robe to cover yourself more as Hongo lifted your leg and placed your foot on his lap. Shanks growled lightly but otherwise made no noise.

“Luckily it’s pretty shallow. Probably hurts to walk but it should heal quickly. I don’t need to suture it but I am going to wrap it,” Hongo explained. He cleaned the wound and used long nosed tweezers to get a few pieces of debris out. The digging was uncomfortable and made you try to jerk your foot back unintentionally but Hongo’s grip was tight. He finished quickly and wrapped the wound in gauze and bandages.

“Next is the leg, right? Let’s see,” Hongo offered. Your mouth twisted as you thought of having to show the wound. You pointed to the bed and hoped the doctor didn’t think you were arrogant.

“Sure, go ahead and lay down if it's easier for you,” Hongo offered. He picked you up and you heard the Emperor’s rumble returning, making you ball your hands into fists.

“Oi, you’re scaring her Redhair,” Benn said as you were placed on the bed. The rumble stopped for a moment but quickly resumed as soon as you opened your legs to show Hongo the wound. You were covering what you could with the robe but Shanks only got louder as Hongo came closer to you. As his head dipped low to look at it with his glasses, Shanks’s loud roar made you cower. 

“That’s it, we’re leaving,” Ben said, manhandling the Emperor out of the cabin. “I’m keeping this one outside. Let us know when you’re done. C’mon you,” Beckman said, still grappling with a struggling Shanks. You knew that if the Emperor really wanted to stay, no one on board could keep him out. You guessed that the Emperor was trying to allow Hongo to take care of you but the Alpha within him didn’t like the other male so close to you. You closed your eyes and willed this experience to be over as soon as possible. Hongo was touching your upper leg in a professional manner but the feeling of someone near your core had you near tears. This wound wasn’t as bad as the one on your neck since you had secretly washed it a few times. 

“All done. Good job, Omega. You did better than some of the men on board,” Hongo said before removing the gloves and putting his glasses back in their case. “You stay there, I’ll get Shanks.” No sooner had the doctor finished speaking than the door opened and the Emperor strode in, carrying a basket in his hand. You sat up and gulped, unsure how angry he would be. 

“Out,” he said to Hongo before he shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Sorry Hong. What I meant was, thank you. And you were right about Beckman, owe ya one.”

“Owe me a bottle of booze is whatcha owe me,” Hongo said, smiling easily. “Have her eat and go to sleep. Poor thing’s exhausted.” 

“Already on it,” Shanks murmured. He placed the basket on the bed as the doctor left, taking his equipment with him. “Didn’t know what you liked, so I took a bit of everything. The crew already ate dinner and those assholes left no leftovers. Well, we didn’t really know you were coming, but Lucky’ll make you whatever you want tomorrow. For now, here’s a little snack.” Shanks reached into the basket and pulled out some cheese, dried meat, grapes, crackers, and some nuts. “I stole a bunch of this from Beckman’s cabin, he’s got good taste.” You hesitatingly reached over to the slices of cheese, taking one in your hand. Biting into it, you nearly moaned. You hadn’t had fresh food in forever, subsisting on whatever Kid remembered to bring into his cabin. 

You ate a few more slices in silence, Shanks leaning back on the bed and eating some of the mixed nuts he’d taken. “You want one?” he asked, holding a grape in his hand. You nodded and held out your hand to take one from the bowl. “Ah ah. Open,” he demanded, putting the grape right in front of your lips. You obediently opened your mouth and Shanks popped the fruit in. You didn’t know why but you felt yourself starting to blush faintly. You were wearing the Emperor’s robe, on his bed, after he bathed you, and yet feeding you a grape made you feel embarrassed? You yawned after you swallowed, your eyelids feeling heavy. You wanted to rest but were still unsure if you needed permission.

“Aw, you’re tired? ‘S alright, we can eat more tomorrow. Drink a cup of water and we’ll be off to bed,” Shanks said, pouring water into a cup from a bottle on the nightstand. Handing you the cup, your fingers brushed against his. You drank greedily, draining the cup in seconds. “More?” Shanks asked but you shook your head. He quickly put the food back in the basket and set it on the floor.

“Lay down. You look so sleepy little Omega. Come on, right here next to me on the bed, it’s nice and warm, I’ll hold you,” Shanks cooed at you. Your lip wobbled at the suggestion but you held firm and didn’t cry. You’d spent many nights on the cold floor of Kid’s cabin, your chains pulling at your weakened limbs. Crawling over to the head of the bed, you laid down on your side on one of the fluffy, feather filled pillows. The Emperor covered your body with his heavy blanket and you burrowed down into its warmth while inhaling the rich scent of the Alpha. You’d missed being warm and comfortable at night more than any other luxury, even more than eating regularly. Shanks laid down behind you and pulled you close to his body, draping his arm loosely across your torso. 

“Good night, little Omega,” he said, kissing the top of your head.

“Good night, Emperor,” you croaked, already half asleep. One thought tickled the corner of your mind before you could succumb to sleep completely. “The other ship?” You’d felt the Emperor’s boat rock earlier but you were too focused on your circumstances to notice anything else.

“Hm? Kid’s ship? Dorry and Broggy cut it in half,” Shanks mumbled while running his hand up and down your ribs. You hummed happily and let sleep overtake you.

Taglist: @mfreedomstuff @v1ennie @staarflowerr @treelogirl @rebeccawinters @nocturnalrorobin @mochiclouds @cursedforlife666 @epochal-oracle

[rafedarling]

𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

pairing: sweet!rafe cameron x pogue!reader

summary: you and rafe have known each other for years, despite being from opposite sides of the social spectrum on the outer banks. while you’ve always been a pogue and he’s a kook, there’s always been a connection between the two of you, one that has deepened into friendship over the years. but when rafe shows up at your parents’ house one day with a bouquet of your mom’s favorite flowers, asking for permission to take you on a date, it becomes clear his feelings for you run deeper than you ever expected.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, friends-to-lovers, pogue vs. kook tension, supportive parents, a kind and sweet rafe cameron.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated, actually i wrote this for drew but i though oh why not a sweet rafe for this. taglist | tagging: @rafeyslamb @tracymbcm @enjoymyloves @akobx @rubixgsworld @xoxohoneymoongirl @mileyraes @maybankslover @noobmazter69 @littlelamy @wearemadeofstardust0 @xoxosblogsblog @saviorcomplexrry @bisexualcvnt @stuffyownswrld @anamiad00msday @httpsdrewstarkey

The Outer Banks was always divided—two worlds coexisting on the same stretch of sand and water, yet so far apart. The Pogues, like you, lived on the south side, where hard work, loyalty, and tight-knit community defined your way of life. The Kooks, like Rafe Cameron, lived on the north side, where money, power, and status were everything. Growing up, those lines were clear, and you were taught to stay on your side of them. Yet, as you got older, you began to realize that not all Kooks fit the mold.

Rafe was different.

He wasn’t the Rafe that the rest of the world saw—the Rafe who threw parties at Tannyhill, who had a reputation for getting into fights or drinking too much. With you, he was kind, thoughtful even. You had known each other for years, despite the social divide. It started with brief conversations on the docks or passing each other on the beach. But somehow, over time, those small exchanges turned into something more. Late-night talks when no one was around, shared glances across bonfires, and moments when it felt like the world around you faded away.

Still, you both kept it platonic—safe, avoiding the possibility of crossing a line that might complicate your lives. After all, what would people think? A Pogue and a Kook? No one would understand. But that didn’t stop the quiet tension that always seemed to linger between you two, the way his hand would hover just a little too close to yours, the way his eyes followed you when he thought you weren’t looking.

You had convinced yourself that Rafe was just being a good friend. That his kindness didn’t mean anything more than that. But everything changed the day he showed up at your parents’ house.

It was a warm afternoon, your mom sat at the table with her cup of coffee. Your dad was nearby, flipping through the latest fishing magazine, savoring the rare quiet weekend. The sound of the doorbell suddenly interrupted the peaceful atmosphere, drawing your dad’s attention.

“Who could that be?” your mom mused aloud, glancing toward the door.

Your dad stood up with his usual slow, deliberate pace, not expecting anyone. He made his way to the door and opened it, only to find Rafe Cameron standing on the front porch. Rafe, with his light brown hair and piercing blue eyes, looked as out of place as ever in your Pogue neighborhood. He held a bouquet of gardenias in his hand, the white petals stark against the casual but expensive clothing he wore.

Your dad blinked in surprise, not expecting to see him here. “Rafe?” he asked.

Rafe smiled, but there was a nervous edge to it. He’d been here before, of course—your parents knew him, albeit from a distance. He wasn’t a stranger, but he certainly wasn’t someone they saw frequently outside of the occasional gatherings. Still, Rafe had always been respectful, polite. And today, something in his expression told your dad that this visit wasn’t just a casual drop-by.

“Hey, Mr. Y/L/N,” Rafe greeted, shifting the flowers in his hand. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

Your dad tilted his head slightly, raising an eyebrow. “Not at all. Come on in, son,” he said, stepping aside and holding the door open.

Rafe walked inside, his gaze sweeping over the familiar interior of your home, which was far smaller and cozier than his sprawling family estate, Tannyhill. The warmth of the space, the lived-in feeling, was a sharp contrast to the cold elegance of his house. That’s what he always liked about coming here. It felt real.

Your mom appeared in the doorway of the kitchen, a curious look on her face when she saw Rafe standing in the foyer. “Rafe Cameron,” she said, her tone lifting in surprise.

“What brings you here? Is everything alright?”

Rafe smiled politely, but you could see the tension in his shoulders, the nervous energy beneath his cool exterior.

“Everything’s fine, Mrs. Y/L/N,” he assured her. He lifted the bouquet in his hands and offered it to her. “These are for you. Y/N told me once that gardenias were your favorite.”

Your mom blinked in surprise, her lips parting slightly before a smile spread across her face. “Oh, Rafe,” she said softly, reaching for the flowers. “You didn’t have to. They’re beautiful.”

Rafe’s smile relaxed, his nerves easing a bit. “I just wanted to bring something.”

Your mom took the bouquet and inhaled the sweet scent of the gardenias. “You’re too kind, Rafe,” she said, her voice full of warmth.

“I’ll put these in a vase. Y/N’s always telling me how thoughtful you are.”

Rafe chuckled lightly, his eyes softening at the mention of you.

“She talks about you all the time too.”

Your dad, who had been observing the exchange quietly, leaned back against the kitchen counter, crossing his arms as he gave Rafe an appraising look. “So, Rafe, what brings you by? You and Y/N got plans today?”

At the question, Rafe’s heart skipped a beat. This was the moment he had been preparing for, the reason his palms were sweating despite his efforts to stay calm. He straightened slightly, taking a deep breath before answering.

“Actually,” he began, his voice steady but filled with a quiet intensity, “I came here to talk to you both about something. About Y/N.”

Your parents exchanged a look, their curiosity deepening. Your mom set the vase on the counter, her attention fully on Rafe now.

“Go on,” your dad said, his tone neutral but not unkind.

Rafe swallowed, his eyes flicking briefly toward the floor before meeting your dad’s gaze again. He wasn’t used to feeling vulnerable like this, but he knew he had to do this. He had to be honest, not just for himself but for you.

“I’ve known Y/N for a long time,” Rafe said, his voice calm but carrying the weight of his emotions.

“And she’s always been important to me. We’ve been friends for years, but over time, I realized that what I feel for her isn’t just friendship anymore.”

Your mom’s expression softened as she listened, her maternal instincts kicking in as she sensed the sincerity in his voice.

Rafe continued, his gaze steady but full of emotion. “I care about her, more than I ever thought I could care about anyone. And I didn’t want to move forward without talking to you first—without getting your permission.”

The room fell into a brief but meaningful silence as your parents processed his words. Rafe stood there, feeling the weight of the moment, knowing that this was more than just asking permission for a date. It was about showing respect—not just to you, but to your family, to the life you had built on the south side of the island, so different from his own.

“I know there’s a lot of history between Pogues and Kooks,” Rafe added, his voice softening, “but I don’t care about any of that. I just care about her. And I promise, if you give me a chance, I’ll do everything I can to make sure she’s happy.”

Your mom smiled softly, her eyes shining with affection. She had always liked Rafe, despite his background. She had seen the way he looked at you, the way he treated you with care and respect. And more than that, she knew you cared about him too, even if you hadn’t admitted it to yourself yet.

“Rafe,” she said gently, “you’ve always been a good friend to Y/N. And I can see that you’re serious about this.”

Your dad, who had remained quiet for a moment longer, nodded thoughtfully. He wasn’t blind to the tension between the Pogues and the Kooks, nor to the complications that could come with crossing those lines. But he also wasn’t blind to the fact that Rafe, despite his wealth and status, had always treated you with kindness. And as a father, that meant more to him than any social divide.

“Rafe,” your dad said, stepping forward, “if you’re sure about this—about her—then you’ve got my permission. But remember, this isn’t just a casual thing. If you’re serious, you’d better be ready to prove it.”

Rafe’s heart swelled with relief and gratitude. He had expected this to be difficult, but the approval in your dad’s voice, the trust in your mom’s eyes—it meant more to him than he could put into words.

“I am,” Rafe said, his voice filled with sincerity. “I’ll take care of her. I promise.”

Your dad extended his hand, and Rafe took it, the handshake firm and full of unspoken understanding. Your mom smiled warmly, her eyes twinkling with affection as she watched the exchange.

Just then, the sound of the front door unlocking echoed through the house. Your parents turned toward the door, and Rafe’s heart skipped a beat as you walked in, the sunlight streaming in behind you. You had just returned from the docks, your hair slightly tousled from the wind and your skin warm from the sun. You kicked off your shoes and set your bag down by the door before looking up.

“Hey, everyone,” you greeted, smiling as you stepped inside. Your eyes landed on Rafe, and your smile faltered slightly in confusion. “Hey, Rafe Cameron? What are you doing here?”

Your mom exchanged a knowing glance with your dad before turning to you with a warm smile. “Oh, nothing, sweetheart. Rafe was just stopping by to chat. Why don’t you two go sit in the living room for a bit?”

Your heart did a little flip in your chest as you looked between Rafe and your parents. Something was definitely up. There was a tension in the air, a kind of nervous energy that made your stomach flutter with anticipation. You had known Rafe long enough to know when he was holding something back.

“Uh, okay,” you said, your voice uncertain as you led Rafe into the living room. You sat down on the couch, motioning for him to join you. The air between you was thick with unspoken words, and your mind raced, trying to figure out what was going on.

Rafe sat beside you, his hands resting on his knees as he took a deep breath. He turned to face you, his blue eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, the world around you seemed to fade away.

“Y/N,” Rafe began, his voice soft but steady, “there’s something I need to tell you.”

You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched him. Rafe had always been sweet to you, always treated you differently than the other Kooks, but you had never let yourself believe it could be anything more than friendship. After all, you were a Pogue, and he was a Kook. That was just how it was. But the look in his eyes now—it made you wonder if maybe you had been wrong all along.

“I care about you,” Rafe said, his voice low and full of emotion. “More than I’ve ever cared about anyone. And I know we come from different worlds, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is you.”

Your breath caught in your throat as you stared at him, your mind reeling. Was this really happening? Rafe Cameron, one of the most popular Kooks on the island, was sitting in your living room, confessing that he had feelings for you.

“I talked to your parents before you got here,” Rafe continued, his hand reaching out to gently take yours. “I asked for their permission to take you out on a date. I wanted to do this the right way.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as his words sank in. Rafe wasn’t just confessing his feelings—he was showing you, in every way possible, that he was serious about this, about you.

“So,” Rafe said softly, his thumb gently brushing over the back of your hand, “will you go out with me, Y/N? On a real date?”

A tear slipped down your cheek, but you were smiling, your heart swelling with emotion as you nodded. “Yes, Rafe. I’d love to.”

Rafe’s face lit up with a smile that could have melted your heart on the spot. He leaned in, his forehead resting gently against yours as he let out a soft, contented sigh.

“I’ve been waiting for this moment for a long time,” he whispered, his breath warm against your skin.

As you sat there, your hands intertwined and your hearts beating in sync, you realized something: maybe the lines between Kooks and Pogues didn’t matter as much as you had once thought. Maybe love was bigger than the social divide that separated your worlds.

And with Rafe, you were ready to find out.

[starcurtain]

Everyone on Twitter playfully dragging Aventurine for his crop top and track pants fit, and while I agree that this is hilarious and should be meme'd into oblivion, I also can't help but think that the Aventurine fandom as a whole should definitely embrace turning "He's kind of tacky, wouldn't know a subtle outfit unless it was picked by Jade, and wears bizarrely out-of-touch fits on his days off just because he personally thinks they look cool" into an endearing fanon character trait.

Because like, canonically? It makes perfect sense.

As a child, his family didn't have the luxury of giving him a wide variety of clothes in different styles or fabrics. He wore what he could get. Then, we're only ever shown adult Kakavasha wearing rags until joining the IPC.

We know from his character stories that he was kept extremely out of the loop on world news and mainstream media as a slave and literally wouldn't know anything about clothing other than seeing it on other people.

From the time he was a child, wearing whatever his family could pull together, to the time he became an adult prisoner wearing literal scraps, there was never a need or even reasonable opportunity for him to learn about fashion or the social pressures of "dressing to fit in."

The first thing he's told to do as a member of the Stonehearts is "Go pick out new clothes," and the next time we see him, he's wearing the most peacock-esque outfit possible. When Jade told him to pick out his clothes, he literally went in completely blind with no lessons on how to appropriately dress for any adult occasion at all.

While I do think that one of the first things Aventurine would have done as a new Stoneheart is research how to establish a certain "character" for himself and how to dress to give a specific impression, I also think that Aventurine would delight in finally, finally having the power to present himself exactly as he chooses--and that would likely be very strongly informed by an entire child- and young-adulthood growing up without a single social pressure to "dress normal."

Given that he never had someone to teach him how to dress in any modern intergalactic style in his formative years, I think that it makes perfect sense for his "fashion" sense to be extremely unique to him, with little outside influence except for being strongly based on what he knows best: the luxuries the Avgin people could gather from the deserts of Sigonia-IV.

Ratio accuses him of being "flashy," but Aventurine likely loads up all his personally-picked outfits with turquoise jewels, fur trim, and gold metal accents because that's what he grew up perceiving as status symbols and signs of prosperity. Of course he's flashy! Why would he not want to wear furs and jewels now that he has them?! What do you mean wearing six gold bangles is overkill with a t-shirt? No such thing as overkill, come on!

Topaz dropping the Star Rail equivalent of "You look like what would happen if Fashion Week was themed on the yakuza and the Roaring 20s at the exact same time" every other month.

"Well, I think it looks great!"

tl;dr: Aventurine can definitely do his research and blend his outfits into any scenario if needed, but when left to his own devices, he absolutely wears the most over-the-top and/or bizarrely unmodern and "I couldn't care less what is currently trending" fits because no one ever taught him fashion sense when he was growing up, he's finally got the autonomy to dress himself in whatever he thinks looks best, and he's still a little bit drunk on the opportunity to bath in the natural luxuries he longed for but could never have as a child.

Just sayin'.

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort. Pt2

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader.

Just some more hc’s of a scenario I came up in my head!

Warnings: Short, Yandere tendencies, Platonic!!, obsession, the kids being upset. Spoilers for the beginning of the second book!!

The camp was under attack and Percy found himself, and his two friends arriving at the scene. He and the others all joined in on killing the metal beast that plagued the camp.

Percy was itching to see you again, Annebeth was also since she was always with you since she came to the camp and that summer she went with her father.

The camper’s returning had no clue of the changes in the camp. Not only from the new activity director, but from a change you had brought.

The first time Percy walked to his cabin to drop off his things, annabeth on her way to with Tyson following them, caused confusion.

A big white cabin with carvings of the same he saw in Olympus. It was beautiful. Flowers growing up the sides of it, statues placed around it and the gold accents. It was beautiful, like a new aphrodite cabin.

There was a crowd of campers surrounding the outside as two older campers stood on ladders to hang up the new flag.

“What’s happening?” Percy leaned over to his friend. She just shrugged, “I didn’t know there was anyone to add, maybe the lesser known have had children.”

Then chaos broke loose when the flag finally dropped. And the symbol made the campers gasp and rub their eyes to see if they actually saw it.

It was your symbol.

When they found you at the train grounds with some of the students that stayed there over the summer. They rushed around you and screamed for answers.

“Why is there a new cabin?” “You can’t have children!” “This isn’t far!”

Yeah yeah we all know how it goes down. The child screaming, and demanding answers. All they could do was watch you tap your foot and wait for them to quiet down like a mad mother. Once they all calmed down that decided to listen to your speak.

And everything was true. You had children and they are close to the age to coming to camp, even could come to camp now. And oh boy, they started to scream again.

Those poor children had no a clue how much they had going for them.

Some campers could wait to meet your child, and love them the way they love you. Become their protectors, surely they would be as comforting as you.

Some campers hated them. They didn’t need to met them, they wanted them gone. You had a whole camp of children to take care of but you had to go and have your own? That’s now how this should work, aren’t they enough for you? But they knew they couldn’t do much about it because once you got upset, the gods were angered.

And then, the other half. Didn’t really pick a side in it. They are willing to share, or not. What ever happened they didn’t really care since you’re still at camp.

[luneariaa]

ᯓ★٠ ࣪⭑ UNSPOKEN. ✧ KENJI S. { 𝐈 }.

✰ — PART 1 ; mentions of kenji having some deep; untold sadness, emi mention, the reader being the sunshine friend to kenji + having close relationship.

✰ — probably will have more two - three parts of the story! tried to fit in one part, but it doesn't work somehow ( ╥ω╥ ) to those who wanted to be tagged in the next future parts, feel free to comment or send me an ask <33 !! ✩₊˚. PART 2.

. dividers by @/strangergraphics ⛓ !!

GROWING UP, for almost his entire life, KENJI— regardless of the increase of popularity and fame, doesn't really have that much of friends. Does he even have them at this point? He doesn't really have anyone that he could actually rely on; even trusted fully.

Despite everything from the outside of one's possible perspective, he's still the lonely, sweet boy deep down. None has ever truly cracked his persona down and managed to bring out his true self, which a part of him is glad for some reason— but the other, not so much.

The attention that he has received all over the world doesn't really mean anything, not what he silently craved and secretly desperate for.

Companionship, someone who actually cares about his wellbeing as a whole despite his ongoing status.

Yes, of course, he loves the fact that he's able to accomplish something that's quite significant to him, at least— getting all of the attention that they think he truly deserved, but there will always be this one void within his heart; as if begging to be fixed with something that even he himself wasn't so sure about it.

His mansion may have everything that he ever needed, but it still feels bleak, somehow, no matter what he's trying to do. What's the point of having large spaces, when in the end, the mere silence will be his only company?

Kenji doesn't even realize it, but sometimes, he ended up just staring blankly at the empty gaps of his surroundings; feeling lost at the said moment.

His world has been nothing but simply revolving around his stardom life as much as the realization hits him; an endless, monochromatic-colored world that he tacitly faced alone with some fair, or unfair number of struggles.

"Must be a tough day today, yeah Ken?"

"You should take some more needed breaks, at least!" He swiftly got pulled out of his train of thoughts, eyes immediately glancing to the source of sound. This is his reality now, not the one that he keeps on unconsciously reminiscing of.

"Pushing yourself too hard wouldn't be too good for your health, y'know." A euphonious voice scolded him lightly, accompanied with a bright, albeit concerned grin.

Kenji now took notice of you standing by the doorway; your smile remained despite the visible apprehensive look that was directed towards him. Completely aware of the mere truth behind your words alone, he averts his gaze back elsewhere— cracking a small, yet almost forceful of a smile as if he's trying to ease down your concerns.

"Yeah, you got a point. It's just the usual, I guess," he scratches the back of his head while lazily slouching on the bed. "It's not me if I don't mope over some pointless stuff."

"Well, it's not that pointless if it bothers you." You exhale out, gradually pulling him out of the bed.

"Maybe we can try something for the day— maybe you wanted to play baseball for a bit? I'll watch 'cuz you know I suck at those."

He couldn't hold back the snort from escaping, which earned a disapproving pout from you, but nonetheless, you added further.

"Or we could just play around with baby Emi as always! Or both, I don't know.."

"Perhaps that could at least ease your mind for a bit..?"

He could clearly sense your efforts; chuckling as he knows that he doesn't have any other plausible choices, but to simply follow your lead without any complaints. When it comes to you, Kenji knew it would always be futile to try anything quite the contrary from it.

"That sounds nice, actually." A genuine smile, despite the hints of his exhaustion, tugged at the corner of his lips. Has he even noticed it himself on how easy it is for you to coax him out of his shell? "Playing with Emi sounds amazing."

Kenji admitted along with a smirk being present by now, replacing his previous smile while doing some mini stretches here and there.

"I know!" You merely giggled over his words, "Besides, I just know that the baby already misses you. I fed her earlier too, in case you're wondering!" His pretty, midnight-colored eyes seemed to brighten up after you finished speaking for a bit.

"At this rate, I think you're spoiling her a bit too much," he castigated facetiously, earning an eyeroll from you when one of his hands ended up atop of your head— giving it a playful ruffle.

"Well, what can I say.."

"She's just a cute, big baby."

His genuine smile returned in mere seconds, finding the whole idea to be quite endearing; causing for him to feel the warmth that's starting to blossom within his chest. He's totally aware of his whole responsibility at this point— unintentionally, yet welcoming the idea of becoming a father to the baby kaiju, now willingly to take care of her because she's one of the reasons that actually changed him for the better.

Throughout the whole conversation that the two of you have shared with one another, it seemed as if the burdens on his shoulders has been lifted away; the atmosphere becoming more comfortably lighter than before without you even realizing it yourself.

Kenji doesn't even know how, but your sole presence has something in particular that keeps him grounded, and he values you deeply for that.

Even with such mystery that's been shrouding around you, it never really bothered him that much; respecting your boundaries and taking an immediate notice on how you seemed to be uncomfortable with talking about your own past and parents, in a way. He assumed that something might have happened before, hence the vague details you kept telling him— no irritation present ever.

Maybe someday, you'll have the courage to tell him. But for now, you would rather keep it a secret.

@luneariaa. do not repost; reblogs are welcomed. all rights reserved.

[bonny-kookoo]

Jungkook

𝙁𝙞𝙣𝙞𝙨𝙝 𝙇𝙞𝙣𝙚 | 🔞 Main Work

He's one of the best, no race too tough to handle, every track a new challenge he takes on- especially when it's you who's waiting at the finish line for him.

Tags/Warnings: Racer!Jungkook, established relationship, romance, suggestive themes, heavy flirting, adult content, mentions of online hate, only minor angst, they're a power couple, this MC is now my spirit animal, smut

Length: ~5k words

There is no taglist for this fic.

-> Masterlist

A/N: I know nothing about actual car racing. Pls don't take it too seriously, thanks haha 💗

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"But be real here-" A fellow driver asks, sitting down at the side now to pick up a water bottle. "-I always wondered, are you like, actually a couple?" He asks, taking a sip of his water, replenishing what he's sweat out during the training session with Jungkook and the other drivers.

Jungkook sighs to himself, before he gets into a sitting position, tapping the timer on his phone to a stop. He gets these questions a lot- whether or not you're in if for the right reasons, how good your pussy must be to have him put up with your annoying attitude all the time, or how someone like him isn't hooking up with models and actresses left and right. He's not sure why it's such an outrageous thing apparently to have a stable relationship, but somehow, if he just went by what magazines and online gossip-blogs report, it's apparently absolutely unthinkable to be in a normal loving relationship in his position.

But he is. And he intends to keep it that way for as long as you'll have him.

He loves you, dearly so. Your 'bad habits' and flaws are just as endearing to him as the rest of you, mainly because you were also there when he was just starting out, bank account almost always empty at every end of the month, rent barely being paid. You stayed even when he was at his lowest, you cheered him on when he won his first major race, and you consistently keep supporting him at every event you can. And to him, you're prettier than any model he could ever come across anyways.

"We're an actual couple indeed." Jungkook affirms, locking his phone before he screws open a plastic bottle of water himself.

"But like, isn't it a bit disappointing sometimes?" Jake asks him. "Like, I heard you never go to afterparties, and if you do it's always with her. You could have anyone, man." He laughs.

"You'll get there too, maybe." Jungkook chuckles simply, when the door opens, and familiar jingles of jewelry make him smile to turn around- and there you are, meeting his eyes with a smile, as he instantly moves to stand up.

"I bought you all your favorite snacks, and there's like, one of those electrolyte drinks there too." You say after pecking his lips with your strawberry flavored lipbalm, putting the white plastic bag into his hands. "You're not overdoing it, right?" You ask, and he grins, shaking his head.

"I'm almost finished anyways. You wanna wait up here? We can go back to the hotel together then." He asks you, gently pulling your hair out of your long earrings where some of it had gotten tangled. You let him, and wait for him to lean back as a sign that he's finished, before you answer.

"If it's not too much of a bother? There's already a bunch of paparazzi outside, I think someone might've leaked your location online.." You tell him, and he grows serious at that.

"Then you'll wait. I don't want you going back to the hotel alone if they're outside." He tells you now, not giving you another option. He remembers the last time you almost got mobbed at the airport, simply because you flew out the country a day after he did- and of course it created rumors and the wildest theories as to why that might've been the case. It's what happens to him constantly due to his status as the 'hottest race driver of his generation'.

One magazine reported that you apparently have been spotted fighting by someone at a restaurant, and that that could explain why you had sunglasses on during the airport walk- because you two probably broke up, and your eyes must've been swollen from crying. In reality, you always wore shades or shielded your eyes, because you're sensitive to the camera lights and the masses of people make you anxious, so you always try and blur them out somewhat.

Another online forum speculated that you two definitely broke up, and that it was long coming, because the hate must've gotten to you finally. That there's just no way you both could've ever worked out, and that it was just pushed by your parents so you'd have the most comfortable life imaginable. Your father allegedly introduced you to Jungkook at a press conference, which made Jungkook laugh.

True, your parents know each other- but only because you're a couple, and obviously became closer over the years of dating. It didn't make sense that you both just became a couple so you'd have it easy, when he's mentioned multiple times that you both have been dating for way longer than the span of his career.

And then, that one gossip site that pushed the narrative that he cheated on you at the last afterparty. That there's images from the event where he can be seen with a woman with long dark hair that's definitely not you, and that you most likely found out and kicked him out- and just flew out to start a new life in a different country.

That one made him angry.

The woman he'd been seen with was Mingyu's mother- his best friend whom he'd helped out the burning wreck of his car after he'd crashed into the side barriers. She'd simply been there to thank him, and he'd hugged her just as a way of reassuring her that he'd always be there for any of his teammates, no matter what. And that specific website constantly stirred up cheating allegations- either at him, or you, it didn't matter. Clearly edited photos, alleged video evidence that didn't even show you both at all, it was stupid, really.

He's lucky that you don't instantly believe anything you see. Up until now, you always confronted him first if there was anything you were concerned about. And you trusted him, just as much as he trusted you.

Finishing up his workout, he takes the towel you offer with a thanks, deciding to ignore Jake's stares at your tits for now, since it doesn't appear to bother you at all. And honestly, he can understand. They do look great.

And they feel even better- but that's only for him to know.

The moment you both exit the gym they're all there- and he instantly moves you slightly behind him to properly shield you from anyone trying to reach out to you, which has happened often enough before to make him now hyperaware of it. But you somehow make it into the car waiting to take him back to the hotel without anything happening- though the questions hurled at you both from every side do annoy him to high heavens.

Jungkook are you still together?

Jungkook did you both talk things out?

Jungkook did you really cheat on her?

Jungkook-

"Jungkook." You ask him, and he moves his head to you now. "I asked you if we wanted to take a bath at the hotel? The tub is huge!" You beam at him, and at the sight of you all genuinely happy and carefree, he smiles, nodding, before he takes your hand to hold.

As long as you're still there, everything's fine.

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"Oh god-" You breath out, hand in his hair while he's gripping your thighs over his shoulders to keep them open.

Your panties are still hanging from one of your ankles, toes curled as he licks and swallows over your core, orgasm rapidly approaching you as he places a teasing kiss to your sensitive pearl. He moves around with ease, slips out of his pants rather quickly before he pushes your legs towards you once more, aligning himself with your entrance after lubing himself up shamelessly with your arousal he's gathered with his hand.

He doesn't need to rid you of any clothes- he's done that already.

You always joke that the secret to your happy relationship is back-breaking sex and good cooking- but sometimes, you actually believe it.

It's his main way of relieving stress- he's told you as much before. And he also enjoys the more romantic and sensual aspects of it, the closeness to you, and the knowledge that it's something special just between the two of you. It's always a little playful, unserious, light and relaxing, especially afterwards- the shared afterglow you both experience always something special where you both reconnect and bond once more. It's like you grow closer every time you're together like this.

Even though, according to him, that's impossible.

"Gonna.. wanna take you to the movies..!" He grits out, leaning back while while he holds your legs by the backs of your knees, thrusting his hips steadily into you. "Ah, fuck.."

"Can I- can I choose?" you giggle in pleasure, hands over your head grabbing the pillows while he watches your chest swing in the rhythm of his pace.

"Hm, I don't know.." He mumbles, leaning over you now after letting go of your legs to peck your cheek. "What do you wanna watch?" He wonders, before mouthing at your neck.

"Right now?" You hum dreamily, closing your eyes at the sensations of it all. "Wanna watch you." You say, and he chuckles against your skin, hands next to your head steadying him as he slows down a bit to a more sensual rhythm, though he presses himself deeper at the same time, making you arch your back as your legs hook together over his back.

"You're so cute." He teases, one of his hands moving to run over your chest, playfully smacking one of them once to earn a squeak from you- and laughter from him.

"Kook-!" You whine, and he mimics your tone a little, before his hand moves over your body between your legs where you're currently connected, fingers toying around with you. "Yes-!" You beg, thighs pressing together against his body, before you reach your high, muscles twitching from the feeling, while he becomes a bit more erratic now with your core clenching around his length.

He cums a little afterwards, pulling out before he spills his seed over your lower abdomen, the sight always doing something to him.

"You know, I really wanna go to that premiere that I was invited to with you." He says after taking a deep breath and running a hand through his hair, getting up after leaning over you to peck your lips twice- because once is never really enough for him.

"Heh, you know I'll always be at your side if you want me there." You sing-song, stretching your limbs while he turns on the water in the bathtub, door open to be able to hear you. "So, if you wanna take me, of course I'll be your arm-candy!" You chirp, and he smiles as he returns with some babywipes in his hands to wipe down your skin.

"I always want you at my side." He tells you gently, careful with the rather cold wipes on your skin. "And I'm glad you're still willing to put up with me and this whole thing." He shrugs, throwing the tissues away in the trashcan.

"Why wouldn't I?" You wonder up at him as he hooks his hands underneath your back and legs to carry you into the bathroom of the hotel room you're staying at, to help you into the tub.

"Why would you?" He sighs, getting into the tub as well, unscrewing the small bottle of soap offered by the hotel to pour it into the water. "I sometimes really wonder how.. strong you must be to just constantly put up with all the things said about you and me." He says, pulling you closer to him as the bubbles form with the water pouring in. "…I was really scared, you know." He mumbles onto your skin before he kisses your shoulder.

"Of what?" You ask, unsure.

"When the rumor spread of me cheating. I always.. get worried you might become doubtful of me when things like these are said." He admits to you, before you turn around in his arms, his hands immediately on your hips.

"I'm not worried though." You simply tell him, running your hands through his hair before they settle around his neck. "I trust you." You shrug, and he moves his hands up to hold your cheeks, pulling you closer to kiss you until you giggle, pushing against his pecks to get him away. "Kook no-" You laugh, but he whines.

"But I want to love my girlfriend!" He complains.

"You just did!" You argue back, and he plays with his lip rings for a second.

"But you deserve more." He purrs, trying a little more.

"And my pussy needs a break!" You respond back, making him laugh. This is why he loves you so much- why he loves your relationship so much. Living with you is easy, it's relaxing, it's light and it takes his mind off of all the worries he has.

Because when he's with you, it's like none of it matters. He can just fall into your arms and trust you to catch him every single time.

And you do. Just like right now, as you kiss him until the water cools down, and the bubbles are all gone.

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Something he's never really told you is the amount of people trying to get to you- through him of all people.

Mainly because everyone still somewhat believes the most common rumor that you're just a sugar baby kind of situation- that you're up for anyone, as long as the numbers fit your standards. It's infuriating really, makes his blood boil because what else does he have to do to make people take you both seriously? It's not even just the fact that they apparently don't take him seriously as your partner- but that they really think you'd be someone to use others for money, just because you're not the quiet sweet person in the background who they can bully around.

But he has a plan. Foolproof, really, and he's wanted to do that this year anyways.

"I need my good-luck-kiss.." He teases, keeping you close to him.

"Well if we had enough time I'd give you the whole good-luck-menu, but you gotta go get ready now." You giggle while he bites at your neck.

"Not yet.." He complains, already in his overalls, helmet on the bench close by. You're hiding behind a corner like schoolkids attempting not to get caught skipping class, and he admits that you both do this a lot. He just can't get enough, and today especially, he just wants to make sure the cameras can see his marks on you, and know that they're his. "Will you watch the race?" He asks, and you giggle.

"Of course. I always do." You promise, and he grins, before he pecks your lips one last time, finally getting ready.

You're standing in the VIP spots, watching closely how he starts the race, seemingly a bit behind. But he's pushy, he always is, competitiveness not letting him lose without a fight. And fighting he does, quickly catching up as he squeezes past several other competitors, making your pulse rise quite a bit. Truth be told, you always worry- especially after his friend's last accident that you witnessed that day. The race had been interrupted because of it, and had been decided to be re-started at a later date once Mingyu had fully recovered.

He only sustained minor injuries, cracked a rib and a minor concussion, but nothing else. But the sight of the car will stay in your head for quite a while.

You have nightmares, sometimes. Of Jungkook being in a wreck like that, flames swallowing his broken body whole, and you can't do anything to save him. That's most likely the biggest reason you're always a little on edge whenever he drives. You know he's a good driver, of course he is- but still. You can't help but worry.

Not that you'll ever tell him. He doesn't need about something stupid like that.

It's not even half an hour in, and a black flag is waved at a blue car lagging behind. There's smoke coming from the back wheels- so he's asked to leave the tracks and drive into his pit box, which he promptly does to get his vehicle inspected. It seems to be a more serious issue however- because the announcer suddenly explains that the racer named Jake Pitcher won't return to the tracks.

Time passes by, and the race goes on without much interruption. Everyone follows the rules, flags are waved left and right to navigate things happening, and your eyes occasionally lose sight of the mainly red and black hyundai Jungkook is driving, though you always find him again at the very top, leading the race. It's after the second pit stop that a driver in a sky-blue Toyota is becoming visibly more aggressive, especially towards Jungkook.

It's alright to be a bit pushy, you've learned that that's the norm- but this guy is putting other drivers in danger with just how close he's pressing himself against Jungkook's back and another's side.

But this is the sport. It's an aggressive one, and the rules about how to race are pretty grey.

Someone crashes, a yellow and green racecar you've seen earlier. The vehicle spins on the ground in donuts a few times before it comes to a stop on the grass, and the team is visibly running around to sort things out. It's announced that the driver is awake and alert, and doesn't seem injured- and the car is towed safely away, one lane closed until everything is cleared once more, caution in place for now causing everyone to slow down a little until the track is cleared again.

Jungkook had crashed before. Multiple times, even. He's cracked ribs, bruised his body, broken bones. Never anything too serious- but enough to remind you every time how dangerous his career is. You hate that side of it, and sometimes you really wish he would just call it quits- but you also understand that he's passionate about this, that this is his dream.

You'll always remember his worst crash- the way his car had flown through the air rolling around like it was nothing but a toy, front wheels almost pulled off entirely- and your fear inside your bones as it took him ages it felt like to climb out of the wreck, surprisingly unscathed, only bruised badly in some spots.

He was on a stretcher that day, a safety precaution even though he turned out mostly fine. You remember not even having the energy to scold him in hospital, crying at his side for hours it felt like until he'd managed to calm you down enough, his laugh teasing as he'd helped you wipe off your ruined makeup before going back to the hotel later to sleep- your body even clingier than ever before.

It's his fourth pit stop. Things are looking good- this time the car seems to be holding up a lot better than last time when he only made the third place, and the commenters seem to recognize that too. Jungkook is the only one bringing a car of his type on the track after all- it's basically the talk of town every time he participates. He went from being a joke to a true competitor nowadays- finally being taken seriously on the tracks, and you know Jungkook relishes in the feeling of it.

He loves to win, after all. Even if it's just the respect of others.

Suddenly, something happens in the front. The toyota pushes too hard, too far to the side, and it breaks the current leader completely into the barriers as the car loses control, dragging several cars with him- And as your eyes search for the familiar red and black car with white font written all over it, you find it.

There's a lot of smoke, several cars unable to continue, a driver exits his own on the grassy spot in the middle, throwing his helmet in frustration. Jungkook's car is scratched, badly, a slight crack in front, but he's still driving- seemingly having escaped with nothing but some minor damage. He's slowed down just like everyone else now, entire track under major caution as the damage to a lot of other car's is being inspected, several people now left out with their cars damaged too hard to compete any longer.

Jungkook seems just a bit out of breath from the shock from what you can see on the screens, now in the pit box where tape is placed over a break in the front over the scratches, car being refueled and inspected just to make sure. He gives a thumbs up when asked if he's alright- a nod given to other questions. According to a commenter, he's asking for any serious injuries in other drivers- but there are none, so he's reassured that everyone's alright and up walking around.

Caution is lifted, green flag waved. The fight is back on, speed increasing as they once more go back full force, pushing and mixing up the order in which they're making their way towards the finish line.

It's the last stretch now, and things are getting clearly heated on the tracks. From clear pushing to forceful passing, scratches and bumps can probably be found on every car after this race is done. There's a fight happening now, and Jungkook is not backing down from anyone- now doubling down, and pressing himself towards the front. He's not as impolite as some other drivers further back, but he still bites, clearly so- currently passing another car, the white flag waved as he presses himself against his competitor.

One round left.

You can practically feel the tension now, pulse racing just as quickly as his car drives as he pushes himself further and further up front. He's in second place. That's most likely the spot he'll make.

Or?

It's almost in the last second it seems like when he manages to outrun the Chevrolet he's been pushing against next to- the black and white checkered flag waved, Jungkook's name being called as everyone cheers.

He made it. His team cheers- but you're frozen in time.

Because this is also a win for you, every singe time. Your prize is the fact that he's unscathed, that he's okay, that nothing happened. Fireworks light up the sky, when suddenly, he turns the car, covers the track in white smoke from his wheels, a full on spin one of his by now signature winning gestures.

His team runs towards him, pulls down the window gate to congratulate him as he climbs out, pulling his gloves off before he takes off his helmet and climbs on the roof of his car, clearly excited over the win. The interview is easy, as he answers questions thanks his team, before he becomes nervous, visibly, shaking his hands a little. "You still seem rather emotional from the race!" The interviewer jokes, and Jungkook nods, before he runs a hand over his face, bracing himself it seems like.

"Yeah that too, but uh- I made myself a little challenge too, you know?" He laughs. "I promised myself if I won this race, I'd.. do something I've been chickening out of for quite a while now." He explains, and you become a bit nervous now, unsure what he's trying to say. You're making your way down now to where his team is too, now closer and in sight as Jungkook grins to himself.. almost shy?

A member of his crew gives him something, and you become suspicious when he walks towards you now, because that stupid grin he has on his face just spells trouble in bold capital letters.

"You put up with so much shit, you know?" Jungkook tells you over the sound of people cheering and the commentator telling the crowd what's happening- everyone now curious. "You really do- and I don't think there's anyone out here in this world that can really love me like you do." He offers, and you laugh to yourself. "Don't laugh! I'm serious!" He complains, making some crewmembers laugh. "Either way, I might've won the race, but do you know what prize I'd really like instead?" He wonders, before he moves to drop to one knee.

"You, as my wife." He tells you, slightly dirty black box containing a ring.

And suddenly, the world seems to quiet down entirely as you nod, watching in fascination as he puts the ring on your finger in front of thousands.

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"Jungkook you're speeding!" You whine as he laughs in the driver's seat, sunglasses shielding his eyes from the weather.

"Babe I'm actually way below the limit, what're you talking about?" He chuckles, always a little amused by the irony of your fear of him driving- him, a professional racecar driver. "It's an RV, not a racecar. Relax a bit." He says, taking your hand to kiss the back of it before he continues to hold it.

He's taking some time off- spending a vacation in europe with you, having rented an RV for some quality camping that he's always wanted to do with you. Now that his relationship status had been officially upgraded so to speak, rumors have died down- the thrill seemingly left now that he's made it more than clear that he's taking it seriously with you, even though he always has.

"Still, can't you drive a bit slower?" You worry, and he shakes his head.

"No can do darling. But we only have half an hour to go anyways, so we're almost there." He tells you.

"Half an hour can feel like a lifetime though.." You pout quietly, and at that, he runs his thumb over the back of your hand.

"Were you scared when they all crashed?" He asks, and you nod.

"I searched for your car right away. You can't believe how I felt when I saw you come through that cloud of smoke and car-parts almost unharmed." You whine. "I hate that I'm always so scared. I don't want you to feel bad when you drive-" You worry, and he laughs.

"You're not making me feel bad, don't worry." He shakes his head. "I can understand how hard that must be to watch though. Just like I said, I'll never understand how you put up with me and my shit." He offers, and you shrug.

"I don't know either." You huff. "You constantly bully me." You complain.

"I don't bully you!" Jungkook argues scandalized.

"You constantly make fun of my height, and you laugh when I'm scared, and you slap my ass in front of everyone no matter who!" You say, and he shrugs.

"It's a nice ass, what can I say?" He defends himself, making you glare at him. "Hey come on, you can't possibly blame me, you slap my ass too!" He argues back to you.

"That's cause you deserve it!" You respond.

"And you don't?" He wonders.

"Absolutely not. I'm an angel!" You state, and he laughs theatrically.

"You might get down on your knees regularly but you're not a saint-" He jokes, making you roll your eyes. "-see? And a brat too.!" He teases.

"Yeah well if you're not nice to me I won't suck your dick for the entire trip." You threaten. "Not even once." You state, making him pout playfully.

"Not even the tip?"

"Won't even touch your balls." You respond, and he whines.

"Oh no! Anything but that!" He complains, finally driving towards the entrance of the camping spot. "What do I have to do to gain back the sacred touch of my soon-to-be-wife?" He asks, having parked the RV now, and taken off his glasses.

"..you can start by giving her a nice kiss." You tell him. "But a good one. With feelings and all- the whole menu." You demand, and at that he leans over the middle, careful not to touch anything and cause an accident, pulling you closer by your neck.

"Well-" He smiles warmly at you. "-that's easy."

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"So how have you always dealt with all the hate and rumors about you both? That must've been pressuring!" A paparazzi asks you as you stand right next to your by now husband, who's just made the second place in his latest race.

"Oh, I just look at him naked to remind myself why it's all worth it in the end!" You beam happily at them, Jungkook laughing loudly next to him.

Yeah- you're really one of a kind.

And he doesn't mind spending the rest of his life with you.

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[pookieace]

you belong with me

✰ . . . bridgerton au, gojo is meant to be a viscount, fem!reader / fem!pronouns used, secret relationship kinda???, mention of arranged marriage, secret meetings (no cheating though) fluff & smut, fingering, ooc gojo idk he’s lovesick and shit, kinda olden day language that i don't think is 100% correct but idc the brainrot is too strong at this point for me to care therefore you shouldn't either <3

✰ . . . 2.5k words i don't know how we got here

✰ . . . i uhhhh binge watched bridgerton in less than a week and i am having the most scandalous thoughts and scenarios about it.. like i am vibrating at the speed of light waiting for the second part to drop tonight LMFAO this is just pure word vomit and brainrot and it's probably shit because i don't remember the last time i sat and wrote smth this long... but oh well !!! i also SUCK at titles thanks taylor swift for having this song

Satoru Gojo loves a good thrill. The thrill of betting his money on horse races or boxing matches. The thrill of playing pranks on the maids or the cooks. The thrill of having all eyes on him as he walks into a room. He knows everyone will stare considering his wealth and the status of his family but it still feels good, feeds his ego. His favourite thrill however? The one where he meets with you in secret. Just thinking about sneaking away from the public eye, trying to find a quiet place where you two could have time alone, where you could kiss and touch each other, sent goosebumps all over his body. It excited him.

You're not sure why you let him coax you into it though. As a lady, you should be prim and proper, present at the balls or social gatherings. You're meant to be talking to your friends or making conversation with respectable suitable gentlemen, or in the midst of getting courted. Perhaps it is because Gojo Satoru is a breath of fresh air in such a repetitive lifestyle that you keep sneaking off in the middle of the gatherings to see him, and it's certainly no different tonight.

In the middle of the ball, you see Satoru’s tall figure slip past a group of people and off into the shadows. To avoid being seen as suspicious, you need to wait a few moments before you too find yourself following after him. The minutes of waiting around feel like hours however, your feet are itching to just walk off and run to him, but you can't. It would be seen as outrageous for a lady to be seen with any man alone, it would cause an uproar within the community, spreading amongst the partygoers and even the ones who didn’t come within a matter of hours.

Then finally, after what feels like eons, you excuse yourself from the people you were chatting with. You're glad the ladies you were with are attempting to woo the gentlemen that had approached the group by fluttering their hand fans and blinking excessively. Quietly, you make your way towards the corridors. The females are too busy trying to gossip and the men are trying to prove their wealth or talk about their mistresses which makes slipping away into the shadows easier.

You are quite lucky that it was your family who was responsible for today's ball. It made it easy to find a secluded place where you and Satoru could meet without having to worry about a member of the ton or one of your maids accidentally finding the two of you alone, god forbid that from happening. You hold your dress up so you don't trip over it, walking briskly to one of your many gardens at the back of your family's estate. It is dark outside and the air is now chilly, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up as you slow down and try to squint in the darkness, attempting to spot your favourite white haired male.

"Oh? What do we have here? A rather fine young lady, all alone. With no one around... but me." You'd recognise that teasing voice anywhere and you're immediately spinning around to face him with a smile on your face.

"Lord Gojo." A pout on his face grows almost immediately as you bend at your knees to bow at him, a gesture of respect that has been conditioned into your very being since you were a little girl.

"I thought I told you to call me–"

"Just Satoru, yes. I am well aware of that." The use of his first name has him smiling almost as quickly as he had pouted, and in only a couple of steps he is directly in front of you, chest in your line of sight. You have to tilt your head upwards to get a good look at his handsome face.

"I have to say, I rather enjoy the way my name falls from your lips." He's not slick with his eye movements, tongue darting over to lick at his plump pink lips while his eyes glance at your mouth and back to hold your gaze again. "You make it sound... Pretty."

"Well, it is a pretty name for a pretty boy. Your mother did well at picking it."

"Darling, as much as I adore my own mother, I did not ask you to meet with me so I could listen to you praise her."

"Oh Satoru!" You have to cover your mouth so you don't laugh out loud and garner unwanted attention. "Are you jealous of your mother?"

"I am not!" He hushes you, thankful that you are meeting in darkness and the only light is from the moon so you don't see the blush of embarrassment on his cheeks. "Not of her at least."

You are about to open your mouth to ask what he means but he beats you to it. "Lord Basset was rather close to you... Was he not?"

"He spoke to me for a mere two minutes, if that, Satoru. Besides, all he asked was how my family was doing, nothing more."

"Two minutes too many if you ask me." There is a slight growl in his voice as he mumbles unhappily, large hands pulling you close to his frame by your hips.

"Perhaps you need to start courting me in public."

"Sweetheart." He sighs, leaning down to rest his forehead against yours. "The sooner my father realises I do not wish to marry the woman he has chosen for me, the better. It is torment trying to stay away from you in public. Mother is attempting to talk to him now, I think she may know I have someone else I would rather be courting."

You feel him furrow his eyebrows, scrunching them up as he speaks and thinks about the marriage his father is trying to get him to agree to. His father is a businessman, and the marriage, If Satoru agrees, would give them more wealth and more power – Something that the Gojo family already has ample amount of according to Satoru but it was not enough for his father.

"Toru," You begin, voice barely above a whisper. "I can wait for you. I will wait, do not worry about that."

"What did I do to deserve such an understanding woman like you?" Satoru exhales deeply, letting out a breath of air he did not realise he was holding all this time.

"For one, forcefully drag me to meet with you secretly."

"What a strange way to say I wooed you with my charms."

“What charms exactly?”

“Oh, you know. My pretty face, my sense of humour, how witty I am– oh! Lets not forget how tall I am.” You’re holding back a laugh as he lists off his so-called charms to you.

“Let us not forget how you were looking not so subtly at my hands when we first met either. Or my pants, not very ladylike of you, is it?”

“That is not my fau–”

“Oh so you are blaming me for your pervertedness?!” He gasps rather too loudly and you’re quick to cover his mouth with panic.

“Satoru! Please… Keep it down!” You’re whisper-yelling at him, heart pounding as you look around with fear.

He just hums against your hand over his mouth, rubbing your waist as he removes it and kisses the tips of your fingers gently. “You are afraid of being seen with me.”

“Unchaperoned, yes. You are well aware of how everyone will talk about a lady being seen alone with a man such as yourself.”

“Would it not be for the best if we were seen by someone though? Then, I would be forced to marry my little secret, and my father would be forced to give up on his ridiculous quest to marry me off.”

You can’t find yourself to talk back to him and put his crazy idea to rest because he did have a point, unfortunately.

“Sweetheart,” He began, peppering kisses on the tips of your fingers to your wrist, all the way to your inner arm and eventually leading his lips to your neck. “Please, let us be caught.”

“S–Satoru– We can’t… The public scrutiny, the ton–”

“Fuck what the ton has to say. I feel as if I am dying from not having you by my side. Do you know how bad I want to kiss you? How I want to promenade with you, to show you off to the men, to let everyone know you are mine and mine only just as how I belong only to you?”

Satoru’s hands wander to the curve of your ass as he speaks his heart out, large hands groping the flesh best he could over layers and layers of your clothes. You feel him breathing heavily against the skin of your neck, which is soon followed by him inhaling your scent with his eyes closed shut. Then, he’s cupping the side of your face, thumb rubbing over your bottom lip which has him gulping as he waits for verbal consent.

“Satoru. Touch me.”

And he wastes no time in doing so, capturing your lips in a rather messy and sloppy kiss that you are sure will do nothing but mess up the expensive lipstain you are wearing.

You push him further into the shadows where you know not a soul will be able to see you two from the lack of light. He’s against the brick wall and he lets out a small grunt into the kiss but makes no effort to pull away from your mouth. Instead, he takes a hold of your waist and spins the two of you around so now you are hidden in the shadows. By chance, if someone was to see the both of you, your body would be hidden and you wouldn’t be exposed.

Satoru always kisses you with passion, as if there’s a fire burning inside of his body that only you can put out but something about this particular kiss feels far too different to any kiss you have shared before. It feels more urgent. More desperate, you can physically feel it with how hard his lips press against your own. How he grunts and groans into the kiss, how his hand is now cupping the nape of your neck to keep you in place while the other pulls your waist into his own crotch. It allows you to feel the hardness in his pants against your stomach and has you letting out your own set of whimpers.

Momentarily, he pulls back to allow you to breathe. “Let us be caught.”

“Do not try and convince me when you have made my head go dizzy with lack of air.”

“Perfect time, is it not? Come on sweetheart, do you not want to have all of me? To feel all of me?”

“You are a disgusting pervert.” There’s no bite behind it however. Not when your thigh is being wrapped around Satoru’s waist and you feel his hands inch further and further up your thighs.

“Yeah? Why don’t you say that again, you know I love it when you call me names.”

If you weren’t seconds from being fingered, maybe you would have hit his shoulder but you feel the pads of his fingers rub your mound over your undergarments before you could do so.

You’re sighing in pleasure as he continues to tease you over the fabrics but you grow impatient. It’s not as if you haven’t been in this very compromising position before, you’re well aware of how long the white haired male can tease you for, how much he loves it. But when you are in public, only a couple of hundred yards away from the partygoers on your own estate, it is not the time for hours upon hours of teasing, especially not against a brick wall.

“Toru, please. More…”

He pretends not to hear you, keeping a straight face as he keeps on holding your thigh up as the other hand continues to touch you but not really give you what you truely need.

“Toruuu, now is not the time to be a tease.”

“Oh? What’s that? I couldn’t quite hear you sweetheart. Would you mind speaking a little louder for me?”

“Satoru!”

“Y/N!”

Your head tilts back out of anger, hitting against the brick wall behind you with a gentle thud. You despise how he’s choosing to act with you right now.

“Say it.” He speaks, but it’s not using that annoying, teasing tone of his he usually gives you when you want him to touch you more. It’s serious. “Say you are mine.”

His eyes lock onto yours, keeping eye contact as he waits for your answer.

You do not keep him waiting, cupping the side of his face as you speak with sincerity. “I am yours, just as you are mine.”

Satoru feels his cock twitch in his trousers, wanting nothing more than to be balls deep in you right after you said that, but not yet. He can wait, he will wait for you to marry him before taking away your virginity. He’s a gentleman, albeit that gentlemanly honour is hanging by a mere thread when you speak about belonging to him with that pretty voice of yours.

But his fingers are quick to push your undergarments to the side and allow you to truly feel his touch in all its glory. Even in the darkness, he knows exactly where to touch, and he finds the little nub that makes you feel good with ease that it’s almost scary. He allows his fingertips to make circles on it, and you’re burying your face in the suit jacket he’s wearing to drown out your noises that you know will get louder and louder.

His digits have you so riled up and wet in a matter of minutes that his fingers are easily buried in your warmth with one swift move.

You always feel full, how could you not when he has such large hands and long fingers. “Feels— so good, ‘Toru.”

“I know sweetheart.”

“Much better than when I do it to myself…” You know he loves hearing words that boost his ego and god, did it make him feel things. It garners a low growl from him, and he’s pumping his fingers into you with such vigour you swear you two will be caught with just how loud the skin slapping and sloppy noises are.

It does not take long for you to reach your high, two digits in your pussy whilst one rubbed your clit and you’re cumming with shaky thighs and a soft cry of the man’s name, thankful that he’s holding the back of your head and pushing your face into his chest so you don’t accidentally moan out loud.

“Marry me.” He whispers, forehead resting against your own as you pant and come down from your orgasm.

“Get me a ring and I will say yes in a heartbeat and fight your father for your hand in marriage, Satoru.”

i also can’t write endings for shit rip me </3

[deconstructthesoup]

Personal Ranking of the Fantasy High Moms, From Worst to Best:

Arianwen Abernant: -19999/10. She's not as bad as Angwyn, since she's convinced herself she's a good mother, but her "I just want the best for you" shtick isn't any better, and the fact that she's ignorant about how horrible she is doesn't make up for years of neglect. And she also attempted to rope her daughters into raising a being of pure nightmares because she lost her status, so.

Donna Applebees: 0/10. Conservative, racist, judgmental, only loves her kids conditionally... you get the gist. Also, she's absolutely a Karen.

Hallariel Seacaster: 3/10. Yes, I know, she's a MILF, she's got such an iconic vibe, she's a badass with a sword, but none of that excuses years of being emotionally absent from your son's life. She's not a bad person, but she unfortunately doesn't know how to be a mom. Sorry, Hallariel. I wish I could rank you higher.

The Last Phoenix: 5/10. Bird. She's a bird. We don't know enough about her except for the fact that she is the last phoenix, she started out as a "haha Arthur Aguefort is a crazy motherfucker" gag, and she gave us the incredible gift that is Ayda. I cannot rank her fairly, but given that she is Ayda's mom, she goes on the list.

Roz Last-Name-Unknown: 6/10. Same deal with Gorbag---we don't know enough about her for me to properly rank her, but we do know that she was a teen mom, and she's made the choice to reconnect with her son and be in his life. Props for that.

Sandralynn Faeth: 7.5/10. I am ranking her realistically, but let it be known that I love her so much. She is such a beautiful example of a flawed person who consistently tries to be better, and even though she does relapse into old behaviors, she's still growing---and outside of the serial cheating (that is a response to trauma, by the way) and occasional lapses in social skills, she's a pretty damn good mom, all things considered.

Cathilda Ceili: 8/10. She's the parent that Fabian needed, even if he didn't always realize it. She's sweet, she's caring, and if anybody hurts her boy, she will fucking rock your shit. (Also, the reveal of Cathilda being an incredibly fearsome and ruthless pirate outside of Solace was one of my favorites.)

Wilma Thistlespring: 9/10. She's a caring and supportive mom who writes songs, is sex-positive, and loves her son! Again, she does need to recognize when she's embarrassing Gorgug, and she needs to recognize that he's gotta learn how to be angry, but still! We all love her!

Lydia Barkrock: 9.6/10. While she doesn't quite get the full score due to the fact that her son was briefly an ass, it clearly was not her fault, and from what we've seen of her, she is a fantastic mom. She's a badass disabled powerhouse who cooks incredible spreads and cares about her son and his friends a lot. I love her a lot. She's amazing.

Sklonda Gukgak: 10/10. She took that spot in her very first scene, where she poured water in her cereal so Riz could have milk in his, and she's been holding it up ever since. Despite the fact that she's constantly swamped with work, Sklonda is literally one of the best moms you could ever ask for. She deserves the world and it's a constant injustice that she's not getting it.

Bonus: Garthy O'Brien, while having transcended gender and therefore not being able to fit into either of the "mom/dad" rankings, is an 11/10 parent---not just to Ayda, but to everyone younger than them who they've essentially adopted. Words cannot express my adoration for this person.

[rafeskai]

Game On | Gamer!Rafe Cameron x Gamer!Reader

First Game

Summary: One day, you step into the unfamiliar world of Call of Duty, unsure of what to expect. As the chaos unfolds, a smooth, teasing voice cuts through the tension, offering guidance and unexpected camaraderie. What starts as a random match becomes something more, leaving you intrigued by the connection forged in the midst of gunfire and strategy.

Pairings: gamer!reader & gamer!rafe

Warnings: N/A

Author's Note: Let me know if you guys like this concept and want more of it!

It was a late Friday night, the air crisp outside but warm inside your room as you settled in for your first-ever Call of Duty session. You had spent the last few weeks watching gameplay videos, trying to learn the ropes, but you knew tonight would be your real initiation into the world of multiplayer gaming. You weren't sure what to expect, but you were eager.

With your headset snug around your ears and your controller in hand, you queued up for a random match. As the loading screen began, a voice came through the headset.

"Yo, you new to this?" The voice was smooth, teasing, but also somehow welcoming.

You jumped slightly, not expecting someone to talk so soon. You had just barely gotten the game started, and you were still figuring out the controls.

"Uh... yeah," you admitted, not sure how to respond. "First time, actually."

"Nice, you're in for a ride," the voice chuckled, sounding amused. "I’m Rafe, by the way. And you are?"

"(Y/N)," you said, still adjusting your controller as the game finally loaded, your avatar popping into the map. "I’m hoping I don’t totally mess this up."

"No promises, but I'll try not to let you die too fast." Rafe’s laughter was infectious, and somehow, it made you feel more at ease. You were still figuring out the controls, but having someone to chat with helped take the edge off.

The match began, and instantly, you were thrown into the chaos of gunfire and explosions. Rafe’s voice came through again, guiding you.

"Alright, go left—watch your six!" he warned as you awkwardly navigated your character, trying to figure out how to aim and shoot without getting killed immediately. You managed to take cover behind a crate, heart racing as you peeked around.

“Got your back, just stay low.” His voice was steady, like he’d done this a thousand times.

You didn't need much guidance to know when things were going wrong, and in the next few moments, you found yourself at the mercy of an enemy soldier. But just as you were about to be gunned down, a shot rang out, taking the enemy out.

“Did you—?” you asked, astonished.

"Yep," Rafe replied casually. "Just wanted to make sure you didn’t get your first kill too easily."

Your heart skipped a beat, both for the adrenaline rush of surviving and for the way Rafe seemed to always be a step ahead. You were starting to get the hang of things, moving cautiously but with growing confidence.

Throughout the match, Rafe guided you like a pro, his voice always just a step ahead. You learned quickly—taking cover, timing your reloads, using the environment to your advantage—and before you knew it, you were a lot better than you had expected to be.

"Nice shot!" Rafe complimented you as you managed your first headshot, your fingers trembling in excitement as you took down an enemy from a distance.

“Thanks!” you grinned, surprised by how good it felt. “I actually got one?”

“Hell yeah, you did. You're not half-bad for a newbie,” he said, teasing, but there was a hint of admiration in his voice.

The match came to an end, with your team pulling off a narrow victory. The satisfaction of winning, even in your rookie status, was unmatched. As the post-game stats flashed across the screen, you couldn't help but feel proud of your performance, especially after Rafe’s guidance.

"First time playing and you’re already carrying the team," Rafe said, sounding impressed. "You sure you're a newbie?"

You laughed. "Totally. If you had seen me at the start, you’d know how lost I was."

“Don’t worry, we’ve all been there.” Rafe’s tone softened, and you could hear a smile in his voice. "You sure you don’t wanna team up again sometime? Could show you some more tricks of the trade."

You hesitated, the idea of playing again with someone as skilled as him both exciting and intimidating. But then again, he’d already shown he was patient with you.

"Yeah, I'd like that. Maybe I can return the favor next time," you said, feeling more confident than you had when you first started the match.

“Deal,” Rafe replied, his voice smooth with that easy confidence. "Till next time, (Y/N)."

© 2025 rafeskai | All rights reserved. My work is a work of fiction inspired by different characters, and no part of it may be reproduced or distributed without permission.

[savi-our]

Anti-Harem with OP Mage MC pt. 3 ft. Horrortale

Its 3 am- This... this is over 3k words.... I'm both cooking and cooked apparently bc this is even longer and more detailed than the last part, I honestly dont know what came over me. The ending is a bit rushed and im posting this half asleep and barely able to make sense of whether or not any of this is actually good but i wanted to post it before going off to sleep - i do hope you enjoy it though, even if by this point im not sure you can call it an anti harem... maybe ill explore that bit more in the next part.... (p.s. i would love love looove to hear you guy's thoughts on what ive cooked up here so please leave a comment if youre inclined to <3)

Part 1 Part 2

It had been a few weeks since the attack on the monster settlement and your work kept you busy. Black and Mutt had both been a welcome new change as far as your experience in monsters went, the three of you seemed to grow closer by the day - sharing the mutual burdens of your job whenever you had any amount of free time. You and Black formed a good professional relationship, often sharing insights on the progress of monster integration into the world outside, and Mutt - albeit avoidant, seemed to develop an interest in watching you whenever he thought you wouldn't notice. He even sometimes visited you whenever his brother had been busy, coming to your office to slump on your couch and waste away his free time, scrolling through his phone and trying not to get caught staring at you while you filed away paperwork.

It was on a particularly early morning that you had arrived at your office, still dazed from your lack of sleep when a new case appeared at your desk. You rarely did personal requests, but this one you could hardly refuse as it had come from one of the joint rulers of the Underground. 

Queen Toriel summoned you, and you listened as she told you her concerns about a particular percentage of her population having an especially difficult time with the integration process. You picked up on the finer details of her request - unspoken words to her plea.

You were aware of the spatial anomaly that had caused the particular brand of chaos that was currently plaguing Monsterkind, a rift that had caused a collision of alternates and pulled them all here. It was a guarded secret among the higher ranking officials, the details shared only to those who were known to be trusted - or to those who were smart enough to see beyond the fragile lie. You were both you supposed, the Archmage themselves requested your insight into the matter, and you offered to consult wherever you could. It didn't surprise you that the Queen turned to you for assistance - involved as you were in the matter.

You agreed to her request, you could hardly refuse considering the high brand on the paperwork, the signature of the Archmage looped in finer print at the corner of the page. You left promptly, assigning a trusted associate of yours to man the office while you were gone, unfortunately the urgency of your task bid no time to waste so you left without notifying the two skeletons that had seemed to be stuck in your orbit as of late, but that was the nature of things when you had such a demanding position.

You were relocated into the depths of the Underground, a rather lavish apartment greeting you in the shadow of the castle of the royal families, but you had little time to waste, the faster you got to work the smoother the integration process would be.

You met with those currently overseeing the progress of the whole thing, a joint department consisting of monsters, humans and mages - social workers, professors, doctors, therapists and volunteers - all with ample experience concerning the more particular quirks that came with joining cultures and assessing risks where there were any. Your status would do you more harm than good here - you realize early on, advised by the royal court to take a more personal approach as you shed down your heavy coats and branded insignias - monsters in the underground were still rather wary of mages, especially ones as infamous as you. You took on the faux position of a well renowned inspector, and set yourself to figuring out what the problem was and how best to solve it.

It was there that you met them, two new yet rather familiar faces that were introduced to you as the spokespersons for the rebuffed population, Twilight and Dusk by name. 

Twilight was large, even by monster standards, a lean silhouette that towered over any others in the room with a set of jagged teeth and a weathered look to his eyes. His appearance however, seemed to be rather misleading. He was friendly, overly so, extending his hand to you in his introduction as he shook yours with a controlled precision, his crooked grin lifted, delighted to meet a new face among the many who were already so familiar over his long stay in the program. He was chatty, friendly even, a social butterfly that delighted in telling you about the many state of affairs that flitted about the establishment. There were some quirks however… every now and again he confused words, voiced idioms that you could hardly make sense of - something about frisbees. He had ticks, nervous habits and moments of sudden cautious anxiety that brought concerns to your mind, there were times where he seemed almost manic, a rattling in his bones as he flitted about the room as if trying to burn off excess magic, trying to keep his hands and mind occupied.

Then there was Dusk. Like his brother he was considerably larger than the average monster. He was bulkier, bigger, an imposing presence in the room that set even your nerves on edge. He seemed dangerous, more than any of the other monsters you've come across, something in your mind whispered caution as you introduced yourself. The best word you could use to describe Dusk was heavy, both literally and metaphorically. He dragged his words as if he practically pulled them from the depths of his mind, his movements were slow, weighed almost by some unforeseen force you could not comprehend, and every now and again he lost focus, a single red eyelight dilated and staring promptly into nothing. His mind was both sharp and slow at the same time, he often shared insights that were surprising in their outside perspective, he commented on things that others had passed by in their expertise - drawing attention to underlying issues that had been overlooked due to the fact that nobody had really thought of them as issues before he made comment. He had a finer eye for detail, but at the same time there were moments where he'd lose his train of thought, a byproduct of his severe head wound no doubt, words forgotten on the tip of his tongue - moments like those seemed frustrate him quite badly, his fingers pulled on his one blank eye socket in quiet irritation. On his better days he'd make offhanded puns that were rather dark in theme - cannibalism seemed to be a favorite of his. On his bad days his voice turned cold, words sharp as his grin pulled on his face almost maniacally, he was tense, guarded like a cornered dog ready to bare teeth.

It had taken you some time to get situated in your new environment, you spent your days meeting with the other monsters who shared similar ailments to both Twilight and Dusk, consulting with the people directly responsible for their integration process and finding correlations between things that worked best and those that didn't work at all. A common pattern in all of those monsters became clear days after your assignment, the heightened cases of sudden anxiety and panic attacks. It was odd to you for some reason, it wouldn't be unnatural for this particular batch of alternates to suffer from such things, considering what you knew they had gone through back in their own reality, but something about it seemed odd.

You investigated your suspicions further, repeatedly meeting monsters and doctors alike, questioning them about the intricacies of their ailments, trying to garner light on the plausible cause for the widespread issue. Twilight seemed eager to help you, he often accompanied you in your search for more information, more knowledge, and his assistance proved quite useful - when you questioned him as to why he seemed so willing to assist you, he responded with an abashed admission - a want to help the monsters who were struggling most finally see the light of day, to taste the fresh air of the outside world, they had been stuck underground for too long. He often stayed with you after hours, organizing papers and research as you delved into the mystery with a hyper focused obsessiveness. You found you always became like this, obsessive over things you could not define or explain, it was that part of you that had helped you rise in power as fast as you had, starved for answers, eager to explore and redefine the things unknown to you- it was almost nostalgic in a way.

 Twilight had a talent for filling blanks in your knowledge, unfamiliar territory as this was he often offered you more insight in the particularities of monster illnesses and behavioral patterns that you were not privy to. You often asked him for clarifications and added depth to your research and he provided them eagerly - either through his own knowledge or systematically organized interviews and research papers that were color coordinated and alphabetized neatly on your desk. He had a knack for organization that one, but you couldn't help but notice how his expression soured whenever he had to bend to lift a particularly heavy box of files off the floor - he tried to hide it, face turned away and the occasional popping of bones concealed by the clear of his throat, but you noticed. You tentatively questioned him about it one late evening, not wishing to pry more than he was comfortable with. He seemed embarrassed by your attentiveness but didn't deny it, hands clasped and pulling on his long fingers in a nervous habit. He revealed to you that the current brand of healing magic and medicine could do very little for his deteriorated state, the effect was not potent enough or so it seemed. The fact didn't sit right with you, and you decided in your mind that you could multitask.

Your research prolonged, and your frustrations grew as the answer to your questions evaded you. You began to spend more time in your office than in your pristine afforded apartment, head buried in books and rushed consultations between experts in the department. Your obsessiveness seemed to grow, and with it your attention to your health lessened, overtaken by a constant hunger for answers. That hunger seemed to replace your baser instincts however, and one particularly busy day the consequences of your declining attention to your physical state seemed to catch up with you.

 You had been on your way to another scheduled meeting with an on site surgeon, carrying a closed file with a hurried pace, you were far too absorbed in your head to notice the shake of your own fingers, or the way the corners of your vision blurred. You were so absorbed in fact, that you didn't even notice the sudden approach of Dusk from the hall across from you. You had ran right into him, nose buried in the plush of his sweater as you had your senses knocked right out of you. The contact didn't even phase him, and he had caught you by the forearm to steady you. You had apologized, noting how it was unlike you to be so distracted in your surroundings. He hadn’t seemed to mind, his large eyelight coming to a soft focus on the point of contact with your arm. 

The force of your run in with him had knocked the file you were carrying onto the ground however, and as you leaned down in your hurry to grab it the world around you spun. You lost your bearings, and your vision turned to black as you fainted, vaguely aware of the pull of someone's arms around you.

You had woken up in one of the medical rooms, an IV in your arm and a growing headache in the corner of your mind. Dusk was there too, hunched in an office chair that was far too small for his hulking frame, you would have laughed - if you hadn't felt like shit at the time that is. Your movement seemed to wake him from his zoning out, and he had leveled you with a look that you couldn't readily discern - something of a mix between worry, scrutiny and confusion. The doctor on hand had walked in to check up on you, cautioning you to pay better attention to your health, you had felt like a child, embarrassed with your own state. Dusk had sat silent next to your bed while you were being discharged, and as you stood to leave with an order to go home and get some rest from the doctor, he stood with you.

The skeleton escorted you home, a silent but unmistakable presence at your side and as you were ready to thank him and say your goodbyes at your door, he had asked you when you had last gotten something to eat - you couldn't give him a straight answer. 

He had pushed his way inside your temporary home then, and you questioned him in your confusion as he opened your fridge to find it mostly empty, he clicked his tongue, a low growling hum from the pit of his ribs as he pushed you down on your couch with a stern order to ‘wait here’

He blinked out of existence then, returning after a while with a greasy bag of food and he urged you to eat, pushing the bag in your lap despite your urge of protests. You complied, silently eating under the watchful eye of his softly dilated gaze.

From then on Dusk began to visit your office on a regular basis, bringing both you and Twilight regular meals and spending his time lounging in one of the bigger chairs available at the time, idly flipping through books. His presence seemed to anchor you, and often he knocked you out of your hyper focused state with a random pun or an offhand comment about the weather. It worked, your urgency had stilled to a healthy normal, mind clearer as both brothers had now taken to paying a keen interest in your physical condition. You still remembered the frantic lecture Twilight had given you after your little trip to the emergency room. He had begun to limit your time in the office after that, setting a healthy time table with a balanced schedule for both rest and work.

The growing connection between the three of you was plain as day, and as days passed you began to find the answers you were so desperately looking for. It was a regular day in the office when you finally solved the mystery - a calm afternoon spent in a comfortable conversation with the brothers over a cup of tea and some snacks Twilight had graciously shared. You had been brainstorming with the brothers, shooting off your theories for plausible causes when Dusk piped in with something that caught your attention. 

You almost dropped the cup of tea you had been idly cradling in your hand. Jumping up to your feet in a newly discovered frenzy, you rifled through a box of files that had been offhandedly pushed to the side, and as you flipped through a particular heavy file about dietary needs it was then that it hit you, something so simple and so overlooked - of course Dusk would have been the one to point it out. Your grin was almost manic in its excitement as the puzzle pieces finally clicked into place, and you turned to the brothers that had gathered behind you in their confusion. You pulled each of them down by their faces, placing a loud smack of your lips on both of their foreheads and watched their faces glow warm as you called them both a genius. You rushed out of the office, missing exchanged looks of embarrassment - eager to share and confirm your discovery.

It was simple really, so easy to miss in all the confusion of the spatial rift and the ongoing process of integration. It was the food that was making the monsters so sick and riddled with anxiety. Coming from a reality here there had been a significant shortage of food - the first response of the healthier populace had been to feed them, feed them as much as they wanted to eat, it was natural really. Except monster food - magical in nature had high levels of energy, too high for a population of monsters that had been previously so deprived of sustenance. It made their magic run rampant, fluctuate in its intensity with high highs and even lower lows. It was the same in humans, eating too much after starving made the patient sick and would effectively do more harm than good. The answer was right there all along, and you cursed yourself at not seeing it sooner.

Things moved quickly after that, you wasted no time to form a plan of order for a change in provisions, something less straining, human food imbued with magical properties was the natural choice. It would take time for the monster's conditions to stabilize, but after a few days on the new program you began seeing positive results. You had reported your success to the royal family and Toriel had once again summoned you for a showing of your solution. If things went as predicted, the rebuffed population would soon show results of steady improvement, they would finally be prime and ready for the further relocation process.

The queen had thanked you for your service and had shown you a rather unexpected act of kindness in doing so, inviting you over to her rooms for a private tea party where you both conversed not like high mage and ruler, but as two troubled souls with the weight of the world on each of your shoulders. It was pleasant, if not a bit awkward on your part, but Toriel seemed to have a knack for making someone feel welcome.

It was a couple of days before your departure that you had invited the skeleton brothers to your apartment for a celebration dinner, you had surprised them with a meal of your own making. Expertly following the guide of their new diet you had imbued it with your own magic, the fact seemed to fluster the brothers for some reason, but they were unwilling to comment as to the reason why. 

The evening trailed off in shared conversation, and as the hour grew late, the mood slightly sombered, it seemed like both Twilight and Dusk had something they had been meaning to confess for a while now, but it had never seemed like the right time. You had a feeling you knew what it was about - they weren't aware of just how much you knew about their past -you had been pretending to be a high ranking inspector after all, a secret as big as alternate realities wouldn't be handed off to someone as low down the hierarchy as that.

It was then that they opened up to you, a cautious whispered admission of their past sins, sins bred out of desperation and grief. In a moment of your own vulnerability you told them you knew, you knew and understood. You reassured them that it didn't change your opinion of them, you shared gentle words of encouragement, soft admissions of your own grief filled memories. 

You would not judge them for their past, because you saw in them a desperate wish for a better life, a fragile hope that they could learn to become monsters capable of loving themselves. 

Perhaps it was wrong, out of all the people in the world it was you who were the greatest threat to their continued existence. You realized you held their fragile future in your scarred hands, and decided to trust in the goodness in their souls.

[dongslinger--420]

You were born to two people who never wanted to have you, who never should've had you. You grew up around alcohol, and your only role model was on television. People tried to make friends with you, but you just pushed them away. You made your first friend at 21. You love your friend more than anything, but you cannot escape the fact that he was indirectly responsible for your downfall. You try so hard to go back to the era where you thought you were happy that you end up making two of the biggest mistakes of your life. You surround yourself with people who remind you either of him, of yourself, or both. Your lack of true, authentic experience means that you believe yourself to be both unworthy and incapable of love. You have 4 best friends and you take them all for granted until it's too late. Millions love you, and you feel so alone.

You were born into a family of 7. Everyone in that family hates you. You were bullied in school, and your only role model was on television. You survive your 20s on sheer unbridled optimism and a barista's salary. You meet two people who are just like you, who are passionate and cynical and bright minded. One day, you fall in love with an older man who is nothing like you, but he's kind and extraverted, and it's something you have no frame of reference for. You meet your idol. He's not who you thought he'd be. He's the furthest from it that you could possibly imagine. But you love him. Because he's you. He reminds you of the girl you were growing up. Sometimes he's compassionate towards you. Sometimes your now husband is compassionate towards you. You don't know how to respond in either situation. You try to look for reasons to push them away. Your closest friends love you, and you feel so alone.

You were born the youngest of 12. Your mother loves you, but she needs you a little too much. You grow up obsessed with a film about a girl who flies away, a girl who (for better or for worse) comes of age. So then you decide to fly away. You get a job as a strongly independent intern. But then you meet a man. He's deeply flawed, and the way you take care of him reminds you too much of the girl you were growing up. But you see so much good in him, and you spend your time telling yourself that the good outweighs the bad. He has single handedly got you out of the worst situations you have ever found yourself in. And for all your independence, you crave companionship, in any form. The love that anyone feels for you is forever fleeting. You feel so alone.

You were born into a loving family. You meet a beautiful wife in your 20s, and get the best job ever solely by accident. There is no reality other than this. And why would anyone want one? This is perfect. You try so hard to go back to that first era where you were happy, by surrounding yourself with people who agree with you. Your first wife starts to disagree. You don't understand her decision to go into politics, because there is no reality other than this, and why would anyone want one? You break up with her. You have to keep the illusion going, fill that space asap. Your second wife disagrees with you. You meet your third wife on the day your second wife leaves you. Your third wife cares more about the world outside the bubble you've cultivated than your first wife did. But status quo is god. It worked in your dream job, and it's going to work now. Your third wife leaves you. You feel so alone.

You were born of a man you don't even remember. You were forcibly given the name of the man your mother married. He's extremely hard on you and you don't understand why. You love music and games and new experiences, and he loves anger and being boring and getting a job. You get kicked out at 18. You find someone new, and you feel almost as reliant on them. You don't know when your new situation will end, but it's easy. This is what you wanted, right? But all your new friends have proper lives. They have some sense of knowledge for what they were doing. And maybe your stepfather was right. Maybe BoJack was right. Maybe you need to get your act together before you amount to anything. Because for all your independence, you still crave approval and acknowledgement, in any form. You have no idea if anyone loves you, and you feel so alone.

[starcurtain]

What do you think about Sunday and Aventurine? and their interaction in 2.1, I know Sunday did what he had to do but I just have a strong dislike for him ever since. He is an interesting character though.

I mentioned on a previous ask that I wanted to talk about narrative foils/character parallels, and that ask mentioned Aventurine being similar to Robin and a little to Sunday. But I thought I'd combine that character foils idea with this post about Sunday because...

Aventurine and Sunday are Near Perfect Character Parallels

(Also sorry to Youtuber Fayato who I screencapped this image from; I literally couldn't find a single other good image of Aventurine and Sunday in the same frame!)

In media, the concept of the narrative foil refers to a character who contrasts another character; by setting the two characters and their plots side by side, the audience is better able to understand the traits of the central character.

And by setting two surprisingly similar characters in opposition to each other, it becomes very clear how even those facing similar circumstances can take diametrically opposed paths in life.

First, let's start with the basics:

Aventurine and Sunday are both characters whose real fathers were never in the picture, and who lost their mothers right in front of their eyes to traumatizing events.

They both experienced the violent deaths ("death" in Sunday's case) of their sisters.

They both were "rescued" by people who intended to use them by growing them ("grooming them" in Sunday's case) into a figure of authority.

They were both told they were "chosen ones" growing up. And yet ultimately this status as the chosen one is in doubt: Aventurine isn't sure if his family's faith is real, while Gopher Wood tells Sunday that Penacony's chosen should have been Robin all along.

They both became self-sacrificial, Aventurine through his obvious willingness to throw his life away, and Sunday through his plan to remain outside the sweet dream to be its keeper while everyone else got to live in "paradise."

They both are trapped by their situations, Sunday by his inability to leave the cage, Aventurine by his inability to accept the life he isn't able to throw away.

They both became the "villain" of their respective patches and both faced "death."

Personality-wise, they both strongly favor being in control, to the point that their scene together is an aggressive power struggle over each other.

This is how the "future" Aventurine describes himself:

Does it sound familiar? It should, since that's exactly how people describe Sunday.

But they also both prioritize their families, and they are equally altruistic at the core while seemingly self-centered on the exterior.

They both, of course, have the blessing of an aeon.

And here's where I'm going to take a massive tangent, but it's important: I do tend to be among those who think there is at least some connection between Ena, the Order, and Gaiathra.

I've heard all sorts of reasons that they can't be two different concepts for the same being, from the whole "Gaiathra is a goddess of trickery and that's not related to order" to the whole "the Order's followers worship with song while Gaiathra's followers specifically don't," but I think something that has been missing from the discussion of Ena and Gaiathra's possible connection is that "Order" as a concept has entirely different definitions depending on which cultural context you approach it from.

The most mainstream modern concept of "Order" is something that is imposed: A power from on high descends to quell the chaos of the mortal world, to "bring order" through guidance to humanity. This is very Abrahamic, very modern Christian, and that is reflected in the imagery surrounding Sunday. Sunday, as a manifestation of the Order's power, believes he will be able to uplift Penacony from the mire, free people from their unfulfilled desires and confusion, and bring about perpetual peace by enforcing his understanding of harmony on the populace trapped in the dream.

Sunday's Order is not the natural state of the world but something that must be carefully cultivated and maintained, a constant battle against the chaotic forces of life and its temptations. This type of "Order" promises an idyllic future, but at the cost of the present freedom of everyone who submits to the law, who must surrender their original fate for a structured sweet dream.

We understand this concept of "Order" because at its core, it's the one that modern societies largely embrace--ruling authorities establish laws that must be followed at all costs, even when they risk the freedoms of individuals, because they ultimately (supposedly) support a greater good. A majority of society adheres to the laws handed down from on-high, and life functions relatively stably.

Yet this conception of "Order" is predicated on the idea that the course of people's lives is decided first and foremost by the people themselves--which is why they can make mistakes, go astray, and need to be shepherded in the first place.

Without imposing structure through authoritarian power, this type of "Order" will crumble away in an instant, because this view assumes that rightness can only created by humanity, and that chaos--not order--is the natural state of existence.

Ena, who holds worlds tidily contained in her hands, who is tangled in puppet strings, who wears a hood like a nun or the Virgin Mary, and who is haloed like a Christian angel, clearly represents this definition of "Order" to a T.

But... this is not how humanity has always defined "Order."

It was not always taken for granted that people had the power of self-determination, and in fact, for many centuries and across many cultures, the concept of "the order of the world" was tied directly to the concept of destiny. Whether a volcano would explode and destroy your entire civilization, whether floods would swallow your city, whether the crops would grow or fail all depended on the pre-made decisions of supernatural powers, who were in turn often personified concepts of the natural world itself. What happened to any given individual, what twists and turns their life would take, whether they would achieve their dreams or not--all these aspects were also predetermined, decided not by the actions of the individual but by fate itself.

Thus, the world and everything in it has a natural order. Things may seem chaotic, they may even seem unbelievably horrible, but all events in existence unfold as they should. We may not understand why, but everything occurs in due course, woven into an endlessly repeating pattern on the fates' loom--spring becomes summer, life becomes death, disasters happen and are healed from, children are born and grow old. If it is your fate to die, you will. If it is your fate to fight and live, you will. To reject this natural order would be as futile as telling the sun not to rise.

The words "order" and "ordained" have the same origin.

Enter Gaiathra. First of all, she is the Star Rail equivalent of a pagan goddess--her worship exists separate of the confirmed existence of aeons, by an uncontacted and non-space-faring race. Even her description, being triple-eyed, evokes other "triple goddess" figures across history, both in modern interpretations (the triple goddess of Neopaganism) and in ancient mythologies (the three fates of Greece, the Tridevi of Hindu culture, etc.).

She is strongly associated with the natural world: The planet of Sigonia is said to be a manifestation of her very body, the rain is her blessing and acknowledgment, and she goes through a yearly cycle of death and rebirth (calling the cycle of the seasons to mind). She is said to be a goddess of both fertility and travel (likely in the sense of nomadic wandering by the time Aventurine was born). Avgin worship of the goddess manifests in the form of sacrificial cyclic knots.

Which might call to mind another pagan culture well-known for their cyclic knots: the Celts, whose famous Celtic knots represent cycles of eternity, unity, and the interconnected nature of life itself.

The Avgin prayer to Gaiathra focuses on elements of a person's life that all might be determined by "fate"--will your blood keep flowing, will your journey be peaceful, will your schemes stay hidden? It hopes that things will be as they should, that the future ahead of you is predetermined to be a good one, and that the cycle of life decided by the goddess will be in one's favor.

But while the Avgin hope for good things, they also strongly espouse embracing the reality of one's life, with suffering and hardships seen as manifestations of fate that should be accepted as facts of life. It is said that any society blessed by the Order ultimately falls--is it not the natural fate of all societies to one day fall? For mankind to return to the dust and be reborn anew?

Whatever will be, will be.

There is a reason--a logic--an order--to everything that happens.

I hope you can see where I'm going with this: While Sunday and Ena represent the concept of "Order" as a result of self-determination, a power "the strong" can wield to overcome the inherent chaos of reality, Aventurine and Gaiathra represent a different, older concept of "Order" (I can't help but see the entirely separate eye lurking behind Ena?): existence is not inherently chaotic but instead is foreordained, following endless orderly cycles life and death, weal and woe, rise and fall.

PHEW! Okay, so all of that to say Aventurine and Sunday make perfect parallels through a mirror darkly, even when it comes to the blessings they've been granted: One imposes order from on high; one continually rolls the dice despite knowing the inevitable outcome.

Both of their stories are entirely intertwined with the concept of fate, whether by opposing it...

Or accepting it.

And even at the end of Penacony, we leave both Sunday and Aventurine in precarious positions. Aventurine, while ostensibly "victorious," faces another roll of the dice immediately after Penacony, when his future as a Stoneheart is called into question. Yet "fate" comes through for him again--his bet, as always, comes true. His future isn't in question--it is the question itself. What's next? He finally wants to live to find out.

Sunday, meanwhile, ends Penacony's arc in a truly difficult place. He's virtually exiled from the only home he's ever known, a flightless bird tossed out of his cage into cold hard reality. He has to find an entirely new way forward and may even be forced to reckon with an entirely new definition of "Order" itself.

The parallels between these two characters are entirely intentional and very, very blatant, and I am exceedingly interested in seeing whether their paths diverge or continue to reflect similar fates moving forward.

So uhhh... that's what I think of Sunday? 😂

[loving-daisy]

You Had Me At Hello | Severus Snape x Reader

Young Severus Snape never knew what love was. That was until he met her, his Valentine.

YHMAH Masterlist • loving-daisy masterlist

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Chapter 1: Valentine

Word count: 1,344

Life was never easy for Severus Snape. Born to a muggle father and a pureblood mother, Severus was born a half-blood wizard. Truthfully, his father, Tobias, never liked him. He never wanted a child. But much to his dismay, the boy was born, and he hated his wife for it.

On the other hand, Eileen Prince, Severus’ mother, loved the child so much that she told her what he was at such an early age. She taught him useful charms, gave him books that were in possession of the Prince's manor, and even accompanied him when he first got his wand. Being the loving mother she was, her husband was no exception to all the love that she could offer. She loved him so much, even if he didn’t treat her right. She loved him even if she would start another day with purple spots covering all over her body. She loved him even if he didn’t love their own child.

It was toxic, yes, but love is toxic. That’s why the raven-haired boy swore not to build his love around toxicity. In the future, once he finds the love of his life, he will only love her, whoever she is, whatever she is.

But growing up in a small and poor neighborhood, growing up with an abusive father, Severus never knew what love was. Well, of course, he knew what motherly love felt like, but he never knew the bond that connected two people in ways that words can’t explain. He never knew it because it was missing in his parent’s relationship. It was one-sided, not completely full.

That was until he met her.

The raven-haired boy was currently seated at the library in Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. 5 years ago, he received his acceptance letter. He would have been surprised if it hadn’t been for his mother to inform him what he was before that. But a year before that event, he met a girl with auburn hair. Lily. She was like him, but she didn’t know what she was. And so he passed his knowledge to her, and they became friends. However, the moment they entered the Great Hall, they were sorted into their respective houses, eventually separating them. Lily Evans was sorted into Gryffindor while Severus in Slytherin.

Life didn’t get better for Severus after he left home. He thought that he was free from his abusive father, but he thought wrong. No one really liked him because of his friendship with Lily, his house, and his blood status. He never really had constant friend,s and he often got bullied because of that. Shallow, yes, but some people just got mad at the wrong things.

“Hello.” A voice greeted Severus, interrupting his train of thought as he did his homework for charms. Without lifting his head, the boy pierced his cold eyes to the stranger.

It was a girl from his house, seeing that she was wearing the same green and silver colors that he wore.

He didn’t bother to answer the girl’s greeting verbally. He merely raised a brow in anticipation, waiting for what the girl wanted from him.

Despite his lack of words, the smile on the girl’s face didn’t falter. “Hello, my name is Y/N.” The girl quipped.

Severus knew who she was. She was Y/N Valentine, the Slytherin sweetheart. In his year, or maybe in Slytherin overall, she was the nicest. But she wasn’t too nice to befriend other people outside their house. Though, a lot of people wanted to be her friend. A lot even wanted to date her, that is, if they weren’t already betrothed to some other pureblood.

Y/N Valentine had distinct features that only she could model. But she wasn’t really Severus’ type. His heart was set on the ginger Gryffindor after all.

“If I am not mistaken, your name is Severus. Correct?” She continued. Severus only nodded in response.

“Do you perhaps...mind if I sit here? The library is packed and there’s no other vacant table left.”

The boy shook his head. “Feel free to do so.” He breathed. It was the first words he ever said to the girl, and the girl felt relieved to hear the boy’s voice.

She knew who he was. He was Severus Snape, the boy people called peculiar. But she didn’t care. None of those trivial things mattered to her.

For a moment there, she thought that Severus was going to push her away. She was glad he didn’t. She wouldn’t want to go and find a different table. The library was packed with Gryffindors. It’s not like she had a prejudice against the house of Godric, it’s just that she didn’t want to deal with questions and interrogations coming from her own house.

That was the first time Severus Snape and Y/N Valentine met. You could say their relationship started there, yes, but it didn’t end there either. Truthfully, Severus wouldn’t have minded if nothing bloomed in that simple interaction. It’s not like a housemate of his didn’t ask the same favor, but that was really a rare occasion. Slytherins mostly study together in the dungeons. But even if someone asked to sit with him in the library, it was always the same; They wouldn't utter another word more and act as if the boy was invisible.

However, this time, it was different. Severus just didn’t know it yet.

After that event, Y/N Valentine became intrigued by the quiet and mysterious Slytherin. As they were studying that afternoon, the girl couldn’t help but take a quick peep on what the boy was doing. He was scribbling in his textbook.

Y/N thought that was just the way he preferred to take notes instead of wasting a good amount of parchment roll. However, her eyes landed on a crossed out procedure that had the contents to slice an ingredient she really couldn’t decipher. Instead of ‘slice’, Severus changed it to ‘crush’.

Was he making up his own procedure? How does he know if that’s gonna work?

The girl was curious about the boy seated in front of him and she needed to satisfy that curiosity.

She heard a lot about him, but not in the way people talked about Lucius Malfoy or James Potter or the good-looking Black brothers. Severus wasn’t popular, no. He was the boy who hid his face behind his long jet-black hair, the boy whose nose was buried in a worn-out Advance Potions textbook, the boy who had a dark aura around him. Okay, he might not be popular but people do know him. Except, all the words that were used to describe Severus Snape depicted his exterior. Y/N Valentine wanted to know his interior.

But after a lot of thinking, the girl assumed why the boy was quiet and reserved. James Potter and his lot often messed with him, calling him names and sending hexes towards his way. Honestly, the girl didn’t know the reason why the obnoxious Gryffindors bully the quiet Slytherin. It’s not like he’s doing anything wrong.

Being the Slytherin sweetheart that she is, she couldn’t just watch the group of Gryffindors harassing her housemate. She just had to do something about it.

Hidden behind a wall, the girl flicked her wand to point at the haughty Gryffindor, murmuring the incantation of the hex that would disable you to move, coating your body with thick ice.

After seeing the work that she did, she couldn’t help the smirk that took place on her lips even when she grabbed her book and pretended to read.

Severus didn’t know if it was his mind playing tricks or if it was a side effect he got from the marauders’ hexing but he knew he wasn’t the one who casted the freezing spell towards James Potter. The magic came from the side anyways.

If it weren’t for another Slytherin calling her name, Severus wouldn’t have any clue on who could have helped him.

End of Chapter 1