#existing customers alike

[aerynwrites]

It's About The Chase

Halsin x Fem!Reader

A/N: FINALLY finished this halsin pic I've been working on for the past like month lmao. a huge shout out to @princessbatears @hdlynnslibraryand @maybegefor being the pushes I needed to finish it! I hope you all enjoy! <3

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY, SMUT! Hunter/Prey Kink, halsin is chasing reader through the forest lol, P in V sex, cream pie, cock warming, marking, biting, rough sex, soft sex, fluff, slight aftercare, cuddling.

Summary: You and Halsin have been together for sometime now, so when Halsin approaches you and asks you to partake in a Ritual custom of his people to further your relationship...who are you to deny him?

Orange embers add to the number of stars in the night sky before flickering out of existence against the blanket of night.

The fire roars fierce before you; orange, yellow, and red tangling together in a dangerous dance to the euphony of songs around you.  Your heart races, blood thrumming through your veins like a raging river.  The heat from the flames only adds to the heat bubbling beneath your skin, making the fingers dragging across its surface seem startlingly cool in contrast. 

You look down at your friend, Avella, as she drags her fingers down the length of your arm in mesmerizing patterns, leaving a shimmering trail of golden paint in their wake. You watch in fascination as the liquid coats her finger tips, dripping in a glimmering trail down the back of her hand before she moves to retrieve more from the bowl at her feet. 

You’ve only ever bared witness to this ritual once, Halsin wanting you to see it before committing to it with him, and while you remember it being just as intriguing, it feels…different, now. 

Now that it’s happening to you. 

Avella, one of your closest friends, had helped you prepare for the ritual just earlier. The golden paths she is painting now, are a continuation of the ones that snake beneath the simple white dress adorning your body.  

You look across from you to see Halsin garnering the same treatment, except the paint adorning his skin is a crimson red, appropriately matching the tattoos inked into him. The only thing that separates you from one another are the flames, making him flicker in and out of view as the fire laps at each new log added to it. 

But even from this distance you can see the way he looks at you. See the way his eyes darken with hunger. The way his shoulders tense and his fists clench from where they rest at his sides. 

He’s ready to pounce. A predator with his prey in sight but just out of reach. 

At least for now. 

You can feel your breathing speed up,  becoming shallow, chest rising and falling quicker as Avella finishes her artwork and the harmony of songs and drums alike come to a complete stop around you.

One of the elders, a druid you’ve only met on occasion, comes to stand in front of the fire, between you and Halsin. He speaks in an old language, one you don’t understand before slipping back into common. Yet, even then, the words do not reach you. 

The elder speaks eloquently about tonight's ritual, describing everything Halsin had already prepared you for. 

This ritual is a sacred one, that you know. Halsin, like many druids, believed that life, like nature, is a fluid thing. Not to be bound to one person or place or thing in one's life. Yet, this very practice seemed to contradict that very principle. You still had lingering questions, one that Halsin promised would be answered come the end of tonight. 

Because, by the end of the night you would be Halsin’s, and he would be yours. Completely and wholly, under the watchful eye of Silvanus himself, you and Halsin would become one with the natural world he holds so dear, cementing one another as an inseparable part of each other's existence. 

You only realize the elder had ended his prayers by the low blow of a horn, and the steady reverberation of the drums picking up once more. Your eyes dart from where you had been staring off, to your partner across the fire, his brows drawn in slight concern at your hesitance. 

That’s right…you must run. 

And so you do.

Turning on your heel, you take off into the forest behind you, the moss and fallen leaves surprisingly springy beneath your bare feet as you dash deeper into the trees embrace. 

The singing grows louder behind you at the start of your retreat, but as you put distance between yourself and the others, the sounds grow softer, quieter ��� muffled by nature until the only thing you can hear is your own breathing, the blood rushing in your ears, and the rustle of foliage beneath your feet. 

Only then do you pause, not knowing how far you’ve gone or where you’re even going. It’s then that Halsin’s words echo in your mind, your eyes slipping close as you try to reign in in your excitement, your panic. 

“You mustn’t let your mind get the better of you. It will be dark, unfamiliar, but you know where to go. Find the tree.”

You wring your hands together nervously, worry evident in your features. “What if I can’t find it? What if – what if I fail?”

Halsin smiles softly, reaching out to take your hands in his own, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. 

“You will not fail. Even if you cannot find the tree…the oak father will guide you.”

With a deep breath, you open your eyes once more, taking in your surroundings as quickly, but as efficiently as possible. Halsin was right, this place is utterly unfamiliar to you. A forest he’s lived in for most of his life, yet you have never truly seen before. Yet another advantage in his favor. 

Another breath. 

He believes in you, he trusts you. You wouldn’t be here otherwise. So, with one last steadying breath you turn slowly in place – listening, looking, feeling…until you see it. 

It would have been almost impossible to see just moments ago, dark clouds shrouding the moon’s light. But just as you turn, there is a break in the sky, the celestial light making the silvery underbellies of oak leaves that sprout from branches that tower above the rest, glint at you.

“The heart of the forest. That is your goal,” Halsin’s voice rings in your ears again. 

You smile, heart leaping with triumph as you take off at a sprint once more, all while sending up a silent prayer to Silvanus for guiding your way. 

– – – – – – – – – – 

Despite seeming to know the way you need to go, you continuously doubt yourself. The forest all looks the same, the trees too similar, the sounds never changing, and it feels like you’ve not made any progress towards the heart of the forest. 

The branches whip past you, brushing against your face and arms, surely leaving behind evidence of their assault, but you couldn’t care less. Despite the rush of anxiety and primal flight coursing through you, there’s also...a thrill. A thrill like you’ve never felt before. A thrill that makes you giddy as you continue your race. And it only seems to intensify as you hear the distance sounds of a pursuer in the distance. 

The chase has begun.

Without thought, you move faster. Feet digging into the earth beneath you, arms pumping faster, breathing harder. You will succeed. You will not fail. Not tonight.

And once again, as if the Oak Father himself heard your earlier prayers, the forest around you changes for what feels like the first time. Endless trees give way to a small clearing; an iridescent, bubbling stream running through it, separating you from more forest on the other side. 

You come to a pause at the stream's edge, mind racing with what to do. But each second matters. Each breath matters. 

One. 

Your mind races with information that Halsin has told you about his hunts. 

Two.

A branch cracks in the distance as your eyes scan the water. 

Three.

Goosebumps rise on your skin as you step into the stream, the water splashing around your ankles. 

Four. 

Tracks…you have to leave tracks. 

Five.

The mud squishes between your toes as you emerge on the other side of the river. One step, another, and another -

Six. 

You hear footsteps now, clear as day as the massive bulk of your partner crashes through the woods. 

Seven. 

Quickly, you dart back into the stream, rushing in the opposite direction of the heart of the forest before moving to crouch behind a large boulder in the water, your dress tugging at you with the movement of the current. 

Eight.

This breath you don’t release, as Halsin burst from the tree line, pausing at the edge of the stream just as you had. 

You watch silently, blood rushing in your ears as you peer around the edge of your hiding place. Halsin is breathing just as hard as you were, and even from here you can see the sheen of sweat adoring his skin, the moonlight reflecting off him. His eyes scan the water before they pause. Quickly, he makes his way through the water, kneeling on the other side where you exited the water. He follows them with his gaze carefully until they disappear back into the water in the opposite direction. From this distance, you can’t be sure, but you think you catch him smiling. 

“Using the water to hide your tracks…” his voice is almost lost to the bubbling stream, but you manage to hear him. “Clever, girl.”

His words send a pang of arousal through you, and you have to cling to the boulder to fight the urge to reveal yourself, but you manage. You stay in place and watch as Halsin stands to his full height once more and takes off jogging upstream, until he’s out of sight within the trees. 

You wait a few moments longer, and then just a moment more before leaving your hiding place and darting out of the water and back into the forest’s sanctuary. You see the towering top of the sacred tree, closer now than you ever hoped, and you know - you know, you’re going to make it. 

And you do. 

Somehow this last push to the end feels quicker than the rest. The forest doesn’t feel endless, time doesn’t feel like it’s dragging on. In fact, the closer you get, it feels as if a warmth flows through you, a calm you haven’t felt since the night started. And as if on cue, you burst from the trees once more into an awe-inspiring sanctuary. 

You understand now, why this place is called the heart of the forest - a huge clearing cut naturally in the middle of this vast place. The air is cooler here, a light breeze rustling the fabric of your simple gown as you come to a stop at the edge of the trees, your breath coming in quick deep breaths as you are finally able to stop running. If just for a moment. 

Your eyes trail over the space, catching instantly on the fireflies dancing through the air, blinking in and out of existence as they fly. With slow reverent steps, you make your way closer to your goal, standing tall and unmoving at the center of the clearing. 

The Sacred Tree. 

It stands silhouetted against the night sky, a looming presence that towers hundreds of feet above you, its base thick and imposing as roots sprawl out in a vast network from its center. 

With as much care and reverence you are able, you pick your way over the roots, trying to memorize every detail of this magnificent place. After a moment you even notice another stream bubbling steadily into a small pool at the base of the tree, sparkling with moonlight and calling to you. 

Soon, you kneel next to the pool, hands dipping into the water, dissipating your reflection on the surface. You lean down, bringing your cupped hands up to your lips as you take small sips. You nearly moan at the cool liquid cascading over your tongue, quenching the intense thirst you didn’t even know you had. It even tastes…sweet, like fresh honeysuckles in spring, or the faint sweetness of honeydew. 

You stay at the edge of the pool for a long few moments, taking slow sips and deep breaths before finally standing back to your feet. As you do, your eyes trail over yourself, astonished to find that the paint adorning you has stayed intact, not even the dirt or branches rubbing it off.  

Your dress is another matter however, the garment showing clear evidence of your traipse through the woods. Tugging at the hem of the piece of cloth, you send a small smile to the tree above you. 

“I suppose it’s a reasonable sacrifice, a dress for…”

For what exactly?

While Halsin had told you the basics of the ritual, and the things that were to come, you can’t help but feel like you still don't understand the cultural importance of this sacred rite. 

And you don’t have time to wonder, for just as you step closer to the tree, the world around you spins uncontrollably as familiar strong arms wrap around you and rough bark meets your back as you are pressed up against the imposing trunk. 

You didn’t even hear him approach, his steps surprisingly silent for a man of his size. But he’s here now - he’s here and wasting no time as his lips capture yours in a bruising kiss, his hands gripping you wherever he can. His fingers dig into the soft flesh of your hips as he presses you further into the tree behind you, fisting the delicate white fabric of your dress in his need to get impossibly closer to you.

“Halsin-” his name leaves your lips in a gasp, barely able to pull away from him before he’s dominating you once more. 

Your mind cannot even keep pace with what’s happening, Halsin’s presence cutting off any and all logical thought you may have. The only reprieve you get is when his lips leave your own only to leave a trail of messy kiss down your jaw and lower, one of his hands sliding up to cradle your jaw and expose the line of your neck to him as he continues to explore you. 

Blunt teeth nip at the delicate skin of your neck and you can’t stop the whimper that slips past your lips, your hands coming up to clutch at his shoulders as he continues his assault. You’re so absorbed in him, in the way he presses against you and mouths at your skin that you don’t even notice his hands as they move to take hold of the gauzy neckline of your dress.

You’re only able to utter a gasp of his name as he tears the thin fabric clean down the center. The threads rip easily under his grip, snapping and popping until it hands In tatter remains on your shoulders. You’re barely able to take in another breath, before calloused palms cradle your cheeks, and for the first time since he’s found you are you able to truly see him.

The sight nearly takes you to your knees. 

He towers over you, pupils blown wide with lust as he drinks you in. His shoulders heave with labored breaths, sweat damp skin glistening in the light of the moon. He looks like a god, cut and carved from stone before you. 

Halsin has always been an attentive lover, and at times you would even describe him as tame. Always doting on you, putting your pleasure first and handling you with the delicacy of a newly blossoming rose petal.

Not now. 

The man that stands before you, clutching you in his hands, fingers pressing into the base of your skull, is nothing more than the beast he always tries to contain. yet, even now you can sense a moment of hesitation in him, restraint. A moment you know won’t last - nor do you want it too. 

“I’ve found you, my heart,” he says, voice nothing but a low rumble in his chest. “I’ve found you, and I intend to make you mine. Wholly and completely with no one but Silvanus as witness and I…I cannot promise gentleness. Not tonight.”

He didn’t ask, not out right - but you know he’s asking. As much as he wants this - wants you - you know he would back down if you so much as hesitated. He would take his hands from you and walk away and never hold any ill-intent towards you. 

But you want this. You want this more than you ever could have imagined. Halsin unrestrained and untempered…

You want him to devour you.

You nod resolutely, hands sliding up his arms to rest upon his wrists. 

“You’ve found me,” you tell him, voice but a whisper as you squeeze his wrists, inviting him imperceptibly closer. “So, claim your prize.”

The only response Halsin offers is a growl as he dives back in, his lips crashing against yours in a mess of teeth and tongue and you don’t dare refuse him when he pushes past the seam of your lips to explore you further. 

Halsin makes quick work of the remnants of your dress, tugging the tattered fabric from your shoulders to let it pool at your feet. Once free from it, you reach up and cling to his shoulders as he divests himself of his own clothing before his hands come to grip at your thighs lifting you up into his arms as if you weighed nothing. 

From this position, you can feel the heat of him against your inner thigh, hard and just as eager as you are. A fact he is more than aware of as he brushes up against you, groaning into your mouth as he feels your wetness against him. 

“I knew you would be ready for me,” Halsin says, his lips brushing against your jaw as he moves to press faint kisses to the skin there. “I could smell you even back at the stream.”

You pause at his words, surprise coloring your pleasure and Halsin laughs, breath warm against your sweat damp skin. 

“Oh, yes,” he whispers, “I knew you were there. placing fake tracks, hiding…”

He presses you further back into the tree, the bark bringing a pleasant sting of pain to the pleasure building in your belly as he lines himself up. 

“Why…” you trail off, words choked out into a whimper as he finally - finally - presses into you, inch by agonizing inch.

Halsin lets out sinful sounds of his own, grunts and sighs that make you quiver in his hold as he continues to fill you until his hips are flush against you own and you feel so full that you might burst. 

“Because,” he breaths, nipping quickly at the juncture of your shoulder and neck, “It’s about the chase. The hunter and his prey-” he grinds his hips into you, eliciting a moan from you that would have made yo blush in any other circumstance. “It’s the catch that makes it worth it.”

Halsin emphasizes his words with one swift movement, pulling out of you before thrusting forward to the hilt once more, as stars burst behind your eyelids. No more words are said as he sets a devastating pace. Anything you do try to say slipping from your mind like warm honey as he drives into you. 

With Halsin, there’s usually build up. He’s a man who loves to play with you, wring out your pleasure in the most torturously pleasurable way he knows how. Tonight, however, there is none of that. And you thank the gods above that you found the chase itself so exhilarating, because even with how ready you were, how eager you are for him - the size of him is bordering on overwhelming. 

Yet you can’t find it in you to truly care. 

All you can do is clutch helplessly at his shoulders and back, nails digging into taut skin as your legs wrap around his waist in an effort to pull him even deeper inside you. 

It feels as if he just started touching you and you can already feel that familiar tug deep in your belly, arousal burning bright as he continues his furious pace. But you also notice a falter in his rhythm, his hips stuttering ever so slightly as you assume his own end approaches. 

“Halsin-” his name falls from your lips in a whimper, hands moving to tangle in his hair as he comes back up to claim your lips once more. 

You expect him to acknowledge your silent plea or agree and tell you he’s close too, but you should know to not expect anything tonight. instead, your surroundings blur around you. Your back leaves the rough bark of the tree in a blink and soon, up becomes down and cool moss meets your knees as warm hands meet your back and before you can even take another breath Halsin has you on your hands and knees before him as he presses into you once more. 

You can’t stop the cry that falls from your lips, this position letting Halsin even deeper into you, allowing him to touch places that make it feel like magma runs through your veins. 

“Oh, gods…”  you moan, eyes squeezing shut as your fingers dig helplessly into the soft ground beneath you. 

“No,” Halsin growls, one hand sliding up your back to tangle in your hair as he moves to lean over you, surrounding you in him. “There are no gods here, not now.”

His words and the combination of his cock buried so deep inside you at this new angle catapults you over the edge. You come with a cry of Halsin’s name on your tongue. 

Your lover helps you through your high, his thrusts growing more erratic until he too finishes with animalistic grunts as he spills himself inside of you. 

You still struggle for air beneath him, chest heaving in the aftermath of your orgasm, that it takes you a moment too long to realize that warm hands are tugging at your hips. A small whine slips past your lips when Halsin pulls himself from you, and it’s then as he rolls you onto your back and leans down to capture your lips in a much more tender kiss than before, that you realize he’s still hard. His release doing nothing to satiate the need coursing through him. 

“I love you, my heart,” Halsin says as he pulls away from you to nose at your temple. “You have given me a gift, this night - a gift I do not think I will ever have words enough to repay you.”

Then, for the first time tonight do you truly seem him. He’s pull away from you slightly, just enough so he is able to look upon your face, and you can seem him clearly. His eyes glisten with emotion, vulnerability and utter devotion swimming in pools of hazel. You take this instant to take your lover in, commit this reverent moment to memory as your eyes flit over his face and lower. From the scars cutting through his brow to his tousled hair. To the paint that adorns him - the paint that now lies muddled against his bronze skin, red mixing with your gold. A visual representation to anyone who sees that you two are bound to one another. 

Your hands slide up his arms, fingers dancing across his shoulder before finally coming to cradle his face - your heart fluttering when he leans into your touch. 

“Then show me,” you whisper, puling him into another searing kiss.

His lips are hot against your own, yet despite the sureness of his movements there’s just a hint of tenderness there. A familiar warmth that encompasses you as he touches you once more. 

His hands are firm against your skin, squeezing and gripping and pulling you tighter to him, but gone is the pure urgency that was just moments ago.  Halsin is all consuming - he always is - but now it’s as if he is taking up every part of your existence. 

Solid arms wrap around you, holding you to him as he slots himself in the cradle of your hips. The familiar scent of him seems to envelop you whole as he presses himself further against you - sandalwood, sage and  moist earth after a spring rain. He breaks away from your lips only to nose at your temple, and you take this moment to breath him in, your hands sliding up his back in an effort to pull him closer. 

Halsin sighs against you, warm breath ghosting over your ear as he shifts his hips, pressing into you once more. He moves to kiss you once again as you take him, swallowing the moans that bubble from your chest until his hips meet yours.

He stops, then, breaking the kiss to rest his forehead against your own, as he allows you both pauses to bask in one another completely. You, for one, are grateful for the small reprieve, the moment becoming completely overwhelming in a new way. 

You and Halsin have lain together more times than you’re able to count, each time never ceasing to take you to new heights, but this…this feels as if you’re seeing him for the first time - being with him for the first time. 

He holds you to him in a reverence you never thought possible from a man, cradling you with a delicacy that makes your chest tight with emotion. He presses featherlight kisses to your brow and then your lips once more before he finally moves. 

And it’s as if the heavens open up above you. 

Ecstasy burns through your veins with each push and pull of his hips, as if you can feel every vein and ridge of him inside you. He sets a steady pace, but nothing like the hurried fucking he gave you earlier. No…this was slower, more measured, as if he never wants this night to end. 

“I love you.”

The words are a mere whisper against your cheek as Halsin moves, his hips pressing deep into you forcing you into the soft moss beneath you as he tries to mold himself further into you. 

“I love you, my heart,” he says again, voice strained. “I have never felt…” he trails off voice going soft before he picks up again. “I am bound to you, body and soul. And by the Oak Fathers grace I will never be parted from you. Not if…If you’ll have me.”

His words make your heart flutter, tears burning at the back of your eyes as you turn your head to look at him, your hands coming up to tangle in his hair once more. 

“I would have no one else,” you tell him solemnly, pressing a slow kiss to his lips. “I love you, too.”

At your acceptance, your reciprocation of his vow, Halsin shudders in pleasure above you. With one arm still wrapped snugly around you, his other hand trails down, over your hip coming to rest at the back of your knee only to tug it quickly over his hip, changing the angle and allowing him to slide deeper inside you. 

The cry that falls from your lips in nothing short of erotic, his name falling from your lips in a jumbled prayer as his pace speeds up, bring you both closer to the climax you feel burning in your belly. 

Gone are the sounds of nature that greeted you when you first entered this sacred place. Now the only sounds that meet your ears are your lovers groans of pleasure in your ear and the blood raring in your veins. His skin slides against your own, damp with sweat and swirled in gold and red as the paint so delicately applied to you both now mixes together. 

Halsin’s thrusts become erratic, and a wave of golden light washes over him as he ruts against you. He pulls your hips closer to him, and you wrap your legs around him obediently as the hand that was supporting you comes up to cup your jaw, titling your head up and away, presenting the delicate expanse of your throat to him.

You catch the familiar flash of druidic magic in his eyes through your lashes, and you know he’s fighting the beast, holding it back as he lowers his head down, lips brushing the underside of your jaw as he thrusts into you again, harsher this time. 

“You are mine,” he growls, voice octaves lower than his usual deep timbre. 

“Yours,” You relent, voice a whispered plea into the night air. 

The only warning you receive is another harsh thrust of his hips, this one making him reach so deep inside of you that you see stars as his teeth sink into the flesh of your neck, breaking skin and sending you to another plane of euphoria you’ve never experienced before. Moans and cry of pleasure spill from your lips as you come, nearly sobbing as Halsin follows you over the precipice once again, pressing himself into you fully as he fills you. 

With ears ringing and heart racing, you almost don’t hear the soft call of your name, Halsin’s lips placing delicate kisses to your cheeks and lips, drawing you closer to coherency as gently as he can. 

He has not separated from you - the forest floor still at your back as he presses his weight comfortingly against your front, brushing errant strands of hair from your face.

“I love you,” you finally say, voice raw. 

When you speak, Halsin lifts himself from you slightly, bringing one hadn’t up to stroke at your hair affectionately, eyes brimming with emotions you can’t yet place. 

“And I you,” he says, leaning down to capture your lips in a slow, tender kiss. 

After a few quiet moments, Halsin takes you into his arms once more and rolls so he is on his back with you resting against his chest, never separating himself from you in the process. 

His heart beats strong beneath your ear, his chest rising and falling in long even breaths, and if it weren’t for his fingers tracing patterns up and down your spine, you’d think he’d fallen asleep. 

Neither of you speak for a long while, using the silence to bask in one another’s presence, your mind still reeling from your experience. the silence is only broken when you hear the faint call of song birds and you see the barely there streaks of grey tinting the horizon beyond the trees. 

You sit up turning your head and wincing at the tinge of pain that accompanies the movement. a hand comes up to touch the spot at the juncture of your neck and shoulder, and your suddenly reminded of the mark Halsin left behind. 

His hand comes up to cover your own, calloused fingertips tracing over the bite gently, and you look down to see concern tugging as his brow. 

“I’m sorry, my heart, I lost myself-”

“Will it scar?” You cut him off, turning your hand to lace your fingers with his own. 

Halsin pauses at your question, lips tugging downward. “I can make sure it will not-”

You shake your head, leaning down to capture his lips in a quick kiss, pulling back to stare into familiar hazel eyes. 

“Don’t.” you say. “Leave it. I…like the idea of it. But I…” you trail off, your courage waning. 

Halsin’s other hand comes up to card through your hair, urging you to face him again.

“Speak freely here,” he encourages. 

You nod, sliding one hand up to run your fingers over the spot on his neck that mirrors your own.

“I’d like you to bear a similar mark.”

Halsin smiles, pulling you down to him so your lips are a mere hairsbreadth away.

“You are mine just as much as I am yours, my heart.”

You smile.

You could get used to that. 

[weepinwriter]

Road to Heaven is an 18+ Dystopian fic which takes inspiration from popular media like the “Shatter Me” series and “Hunger Games”. It may contain distressing content like major injury to the characters, character deaths, blood, gore, body horror, amnesia and optional sexual content. More specific warnings will be given at the beginning of each chapter.

You are inmate No. 1441, incarcerated in Tartarus, the most notorious prison on the continent. You find yourself imprisoned for a crime that you do not remember committing, leaving you in a state of uncertainty about your own identity and purpose. The first memory you have is awakening to the sensation of a gun being shoved into your mouth.

Within the grim confines of Tartarus, you have been branded as the most dangerous criminal, feared yet hated by both fellow inmates and prison authorities alike. It becomes clear to you that in order to survive and unravel the enigma of your past, escape from this formidable penitentiary is imperative. However, achieving freedom will not be an easy feat, as you must navigate treacherous encounters with some of the most malevolent criminals known to humanity. In your quest for freedom, you find yourself entangled in complex relationships with three significant individuals. Firstly, your cellmate, whose icy demeanor suggests a deep-seated disdain for your very existence. Secondly, your best friend within the prison walls, whose seemingly excessive friendliness may harbor ulterior motives. Lastly, there is the warden, whose overtly amicable nature masks a peculiar familiarity with your past. As you navigate the perilous labyrinth of Tartarus, your ultimate objective is twofold: to survive amidst the most notorious criminals and uncover the truth about your forgotten past. In a world where danger lurks at every corner, you must tread carefully, for the path to redemption and self-discovery is riddled with uncertainty and perilous choices.

Fully customize your MC. Choose your pronouns, sexuality, appearance and more. Take control of your interactions with the characters and experience the world of Elysium City through a personalized scope.

Romance one of the 7 RO’s, and if you are charming enough, fall in love with any two of them. The four possible poly routes available are: The Cellmate and The Friend, The Warden and The Master, The Protector and The Master, The Cellmate and The Rebel

Struggle against the evil that wants you dead and uncover secrets about yourself

Accept your identity as an Esper and rediscover your powers, or completely reject them

Master your ability of Conscious Manipulation and perhaps learn a few things about yourself unexpectedly

Choose to make allies within Tartarus or antagonize them. Your choices have consequences

Lead a dying rebellion against the Hightable or join them as an equal

There are a total 7 romance options, each with their own personality and a story along with dark secrets for you to uncover

Survive

1. The Cellmate [f/m] | Enemies to Lovers

Subject Name : Twenty

A palpable enigma surrounds the inexplicable disdain they harbor towards you, leaving you to ponder if your past misdeeds have sowed the seeds of their ire. Your questions remain unanswered, rarely do they grace you with a response, and when they do, it arrives veiled in hateful glares and a tapestry of venomous words. The origins of their animosity remain shrouded in silence, with fellow inmates mirroring their reticence. Only when they are complaining about the prison's wretched conditions and the Warden's despotic rule do they momentarily shed their icy facade, revealing hints of vulnerability and human emotion. When they do smile, albeit rarely, it is a fleeting moment of breathtaking beauty. If only you could find the courage to tell them that.

[ Number 1579 is an S rank Arcane Tendency Esper with the Cryokinesis ability. They are under Libra’s Jurisdiction, and thus only follow orders coming directly from them. ]

Other Tropes : Emotional Scars, Nobody thinks it’ll actually work, Hate Sex

2. The Warden? [m] | ???

Subject Name : Nikita

There is an uncanny familiarity surrounding him, leaving you torn between the unsettling grip of dread and the elusive allure of desire. He claims to know you personally. Apparently the two of you were close friends before The Incident. Yet, when you press for details, he skillfully redirects the conversation before your emotions can catch up. "The past is but a fleeting shadow," he says, "no need to talk about something that can't be changed. Besides, you wouldn't remember anything." Evidently your memories had been erased. The question of who hangs heavy in the air, but his response remains enigmatic, offering only a mirthless smile.

[ Nikita is the Warden of Tartarus, the Reformation Asylum in Sector 10, 8th District. He is under Scorpio's jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Slowburn, Betrayal, Puppy play

3. The Friend [f/m] | Friends to Lovers

Subject Name : Victor (m.) | Vanessa (f.)

A compassionate and devoted companion, V. shines as a beacon of light in the desolate depths of this grim abyss that became your world. From the moment you opened your eyes, they extended a helping hand, guiding you through the labyrinthine complexities of Tartarus and easing your transition into this unfamiliar realm. Unfazed by the venomous whispers that tarnish your reputation, they remain steadfastly by your side, unwavering in their loyalty. Their warm smiles and whimsical wordplay serve as a balm, mending your wounded spirit after every bitter clash with Twenty. How fortunate you are to be blessed with such an illuminating presence, brightening the shadows that consume your existence.

[ Number 1339 is an A rank Catalyst Tendency Esper with the Illusion Manipulation ability. They are under Scorpio’s Jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Partners in crime, First Love, Good people get good sex, Slight yandere

4. The Count/Countless [f/m] | Forbidden Romance (relationship history can be friends with benefits)

Subject Name : Emir (m.) | Evara(f.)

A remarkable visionary and an exceptional entrepreneur, E. stands as an unrivaled figure in the illustrious realm of Elysium City. Holding the distinction of being the youngest Grandmaster in history and amassing unparalleled wealth, they reign as the CEO of the renowned Quinn Industries. E. is adorned with numerous titles within the esteemed echelons of society, serving as an icon of inspiration and a beacon of hope, while simultaneously arousing envy in the hearts of many. An arrogant and proud individual, their ugliness is conveniently covered by their astonishing fortune, combined with innate brilliance, seems almost mystical, as if destined for greatness from their very birth. Within Elysium City's grand social tapestry, few possess the persuasive prowess to sway the decisions of the Hightable itself, yet E. stands tall even among this select few. As an eligible bachelor, their daily inundation of love letters and marriage proposals is a testament to their allure. And yet, amidst all this splendor, it is you who has found a place of interest in their extraordinary life.

[ E. is a part of The Senate and thus does not fall under any District's jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Belated love epiphany, Billionaire, Power play, Daddy/Mommy kink

5. The Master [f] | Forbidden Romance

Subject Name : Leo

In her calculated pursuit, you find yourself ensnared. Your allure captivates her discerning gaze, for you possess what she desires most. You are the coveted object of her desires. In this strategic game, you are but a pawn, a possession within her calculated grasp. Yet, curiously she maintains a measured distance. Her reason? She eloquently articulates, “Witnessing the growth of one's possession is a fascinating phenomenon.”

[ Leo is the Master of {DATA REDACTED}. They are the Ruler of the 5th District. ]

Other Tropes : Secret Identity, Second Chance, Blood play, Begging

6. The Protector [m] | Bodyguard Romance

Subject Name : Caesar

A battle-hardened soldier, Caesar bears the scars of a lifetime spent serving the FAE and the city. With an intimacy unparalleled, he has danced with mortality on numerous occasions, making death a companion rather than an adversary. Yet, behind that facade of strength, Caesar is a fractured soul, haunted by insecurities and a self-destructive nature. His journey, filled with shattered dreams and the weight of his daughter's aspirations, has brought him to the edge of despair. The immortality he once embraced now feels like a curse, a harbinger of misfortune that has become synonymous with his presence. In his eyes, he sees himself as not a protector but a bearer of ill fate. However, the stars, in an unexpected alignment, have granted him a final purpose: to protect you. Beneath the intimidating exterior lies a gentle giant, yet one plagued by a profound sense of self-loathing. He grapples with the belief that his very existence is a catalyst for tragedy, a vortex that draws calamity toward him and those he holds dear. Intrigued by this complex guardian, you see the duality within Caesar — an attentive and understanding individual burdened by the weight of his own perceived malevolence. As you navigate through the intricate layers of his psyche, perhaps you could help him ease his suffering, even by a little.

[ Caesar is a registered S rank Endura Tendency Esper with the Regeneration ability. He comes under Leo’s jurisdiction. ]

Other Tropes : Beauty and the Beast, Single parent, Stop calling me daddy

7. The Rebel [f/m] | Enemies to Lovers

Subject Name : Gael (m.) | Gwendolyn (f.)

You betrayed them. Or perhaps it's the other way around? You do not remember. The trust you once held dear has been shattered, and now you must face the price for your misguided beliefs. Like a fool enchanted by deceit, you must bear the weight of your choices. Remember this lesson, for betrayal's toll is a heavy one to pay. Proceed with caution, lest you become ensnared in the web of your own treachery.

[ There is no known information on this individual. Extreme caution is recommended. ]

Other Tropes : Amnesia, Revenge, Redemption, Breathe play

Links

[ DEMO ]

[ PINTEREST ]

[ THE DISTRICTS ]

[ THE HIGHTABLE ]

All asks and reposts are welcome 😁!

[pinkrelish]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 "𝐲𝐞𝐬" 𝐩𝐨𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐲.

singledad!mechanic!eddie x fem!reader

✶After a lifetime of questionable decisions, you moved from the big city to the sleepy town of Hawkins with your best friend, and took the first job you saw: answering phones for the most boring auto shop in the dullest place on Earth. It wasn't exactly the adventure you wanted it to be.. but attempting to win over the jaded mechanic who insisted on ignoring your existence proved entertaining.✶

NSFW — slow burn, eventual smut, strangers to lovers, flirting, mutual pining, angst, drug/alcohol mention/use, depictions of poverty, sort of grumpy x sunshine but eddie's just tired, reader and eddie are mid-late 20's

chapter: 1/20 [wc: 5.5k]

↳ part 01 / 02 / 03 / 04 / 05 / 06 / 07 / 08 / 09 / 10 / 11 / 12

AO3

Chapter 1: Surprise, Surprise

“Yes.” A simple answer which spawned as many awkward scenarios, as it did great ones. Your name was spray painted on the side of a bridge, you spent nights learning to tango on abandoned rooftops, the amount of tales you accrued of bad dates could fill a self-help book.

Whatever the question was, the answer was “yes.” Life was more exciting that way.

Well, your policy usually lended itself to exciting adventures, anyway.

Currently, you were sat behind a desk with your boss, Mr. Moore, who slouched on his black stool with his cheek propped on his fist, pointing a pencil at a customer’s pink invoice sheet in front of you, explaining who to call in the spiral-bound catalog for the parts to be shipped.

The tall counter top partially obscured the both of you from employees and customers alike, but as you soon realized, the number of employees was slightly above two, and the customers even less; and if any of them paid you any mind, you couldn’t tell from the disorienting mix of exhaust fumes, dirty oil, and grease wafting in from the glass door on the left.

Thus began the first day of your new job at David’s Auto Repair. Boring.

————

Your second and third days were hardly different. Arriving at the butt crack of dawn and beginning the routine that definitely wasn’t in the ad in the newspaper: clean the bathrooms (hey, at least they had two), start the coffee pot after scrubbing off years of neglect caked onto the inside, and organize the paperwork Mr. Moore left for you in his office.

Oh, and most importantly, after locking up your bike outside the front door, you made your way through the echoey workshop and poked your head out the back door to the parking lot–which, by all means, was a gravel alleyway with overgrown trees blocking your view beyond the sleek black car parked next to the dumpster.

“Morning!” you greeted the one employee who arrived early and stayed late. “Eddie, right?”

The man leaning against the gray brick wall didn’t bother acknowledging you. Didn’t lift his head from its dropped back position, nor open his eyes. Definitely didn’t take the cigarette out of his mouth to bestow you the gift of his chipper attitude, nor did he uncross his arms to offer you the bare minimum wave.

And much like the other days, you sat perched behind your desk and beamed up at him as he walked past you to the break room. And as usual, he slid his gaze to you. And like normal, he didn’t say anything.

But he did hold your eye contact for a fraction of a second longer, albeit, he looked a bit frightened when he did, as if he were suspicious of your smile.

You listened to the clunk of his heavy boots fade down the hallway, then return with him holding a mug of coffee.

This time, as he walked by, he remained vigilant, and your grin went ignored by his stupid big brown eyes surrounded by envious lashes.

Lucky you, the reception area was essentially a glass cage. Behind the black pleather seats for customers was the glowing blue sky, and beside you were floor to ceiling windows showcasing the artificially bright garage where the man in grease stained coveralls twisted gaudy rings off his fingers and placed them on a tray with his coffee, before picking up a dirty rag and popping open the hood of the car he worked on past closing last night.

“You’re welcome for the coffee,” you mumbled in a mocking tone, sneering at his red name patch–Eddie. “Jerk.”

————

Friday was different. You locked up your bike, chucked your backpack into your chair behind the desk, and made your way to the back of the garage for the routine, “Good morning.”

For some reason, you decided to reveal your whole self; more than your head stuck out the door, or rising above the countertop customers leaned on when trying to schmooze deals on parts–hell if you knew how to do that, anyway. You didn’t get paid enough to bargain.

You stepped onto the uneven gravel and surveyed the scenery, looking both ways down the alley to the major roads on either side leading to the heart of downtown Hawkins. Absolutely dismally silent. Void of life. Except for the small things you never noticed, like faraway birds, the hum of a distant motor, buzzing bugs before they disappeared for the cooler months. You felt the dew settling on your forearms, and swore you could smell impending rain on the cloudless day.

“Is it always this quiet?” you asked, face pinched in confusion as you took it all in. “I swear I can hear my own thoughts.”

Eddie may not have appreciated your joke, but he did surprise you.

He kept one of his arms crossed over his stomach, and took the cigarette from between his lips to flick the ashes. “You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked the dilapidated fence across from him.

Feeling cheeky, you schooled the thrill out of your voice from getting a response out of him, and said, “What gave it away?”

A drag on his cigarette was his wordless answer. Fair.

“I’m from New York.” The implied City followed without clarification. “Just moved here last week. My roommate’s from Hawkins, and she had to move back to help take care of her parents. They’re older and her dad has some health problems, and yeah, I couldn’t afford rent on my own, so you know, why not. Why not follow her to a town so small it’s impossible to find on a map.”

All your talking earned you a magnificent thing. Eddie finally opened his eyes, if only to pin you with a mild glare, and a skeptic pinch between his brows.

He said more to himself than you, “You must really like your roommate to come here.” The inflection at the end was both amusement and contempt, no doubt.

“We met in our first year of college and became best friends like that–!” You snapped. “Both theater kids going to school for acting, and we later made a comedy troupe with a few other people. When she asked if I wanted to move with her, I said ‘yes.’” Inclining your upper body towards him, you explained, “It’s sorta my thing. If anyone asks me anything, I say ‘yes.’ Obviously, I can veto shit that’s dangerous or crosses any boundaries, but it’s my policy to try everything. Life makes better stories that way.”

Your unique brand of wisdom furthered his obvious distaste for you.

Eddie inhaled his vice until the orange glow burned to the filter. Smoke fell from his mouth in a rush as if he were about to speak again, but he didn’t. He merely stared at you. And if he were having a staring contest, he won.

“Well, have a good day, then,” you said, spinning on the toe of your shoe.

You sat in your glass zoo for the day shuffling papers, making calls, and filling out forms. Most definitely not talking to the guy who appeared annoyed at your very existence.

Unfortunately for him, Hawkins was tiny and the pickings were slim.

Maybe it was his eyes, or the way the short layers of his choppy hair cut escaped his low bun to curl themselves in face-framing waves, or the fact he was twenty-years younger than the other two mechanics, but you took a liking to Eddie, much to his dismay. And due to your affinity for his annoyance, you noticed the subtle changes in his appearance sooner than you should. 

————

Dark purple circles announced the lack of sleep under Eddie’s eyes before the bags could. Bloodshot and struggling to open past a sliver, he sucked down half his cigarette before the routine minutes of peace he carved into his strict schedule were interrupted by the newest knot in his muscles.

“Good morning!” you said.

“Morning,” he returned without thinking about it. Rookie mistake.

You stood closer this time, inching down the brick wall, approaching him as if he would startle like a wild animal to get a better look at the years wearing heavy on the fine lines etched into his face. Perhaps no longer ‘fine.’

“You good?”

He didn’t have the energy to put up his usual front. With his chin dipped to his chest, he kept his eyes closed, nearly drifting to sleep as he muttered, “Long night.”

“Ah.”

Your clumsy shuffling alerted him to your movement, and he reluctantly observed you standing a few feet in front of him, rocking on your heels. He filled his chest with an incredulous sigh before you even spoke.

“You seem like you could use some cheering up,” you beamed. “I could juggle for you! Should I do three or four?” Eddie’s jaw went slack, and the cigarette stuck to the wetness inside his chapped lips. You bent down to gather large rocks into your palms, opting for four when he didn’t answer.

You stood up and stepped back. Made a big show of tracing invisible arcs above your head with your gaze, readying your hands. Sucking in a breath. Building suspense while his expression slowly crept into one of tempered curiosity.

Tensing, you tossed all four rocks into the air, and made a genuine effort to catch them before they fell unceremoniously around you, bouncing off the gravel in your scramble.

Clasping your hands behind your back in feigned shyness, you announced, “I don’t know how to juggle.”

For a moment you thought he was going to continue to regard you as if you were a bug in his coffee.. Then his veneer cracked.

He snorted. The cute way, when someone’s trying to suppress it. A subtle shake in their shoulders, keeping their head down, and their smile hidden behind the heel of the palm.

Eddie hugged his arm tighter over his chest, and chastised himself, “Why’d I let that get me.”

And truly, when he flicked his gaze to you with the lopsided remnant of his grin, you were imprinted with the heat of his wonderment, and your body remembered that feeling. Sensing it later when you sat at your desk, tapping your pencil, rattling off a series of numbers and letters for engine parts, and you snuck a coy look over the phone at the exact moment Eddie turned around to ask Carl for a wrench instead of getting it himself from the tool box near the window.

And he felt your stare during lunch when you promised an irate customer their car would be ready by the end of business hours, and hung up the phone with the type of heavy-handedness one used when implying a ‘fuck you’ without stating it.

You pushed yourself from the desk and went to the fridge in front of the circular table in the break room, eyeing Eddie’s odd choice as you walked by. A bologna sandwich–fairly normal–but also a stained orange tupperware container with an array of dried out microwaved leftovers. A corner of spaghetti, pale instant mashed potatoes with three peas stuck on top, unidentifiable sludge that may have been beef stew at one point, and a handful of Kraft mac n cheese.

Pitiful amounts of food that most people would’ve thrown out.

Not that you should judge. Your lunch was the blandest rice-based meal your roommate’s mom made the night before. The woman had never heard of salt, much less other spices, but she was letting you live in their attic for free until you and Bobbie found a place to live.

Breaking your chain of thoughts, you smiled at Eddie on your way out.

He didn’t look up from his paperwork.

Wholly ignored.

————

Over the rest of the month, you learned there wasn’t a definitive pattern to which days of the week were hardest for Eddie, but it was clear when he was enduring the worst.

As the evenings grew cooler, you left the lobby door open, and in doing so, were wise to the bite in his words, the edge to his voice. The quick apologies to Carl when he let his frustration show. The fluidity of ‘fucks’ flying past his mouth, the way he wrung his nape while staring into the distance, and the lurking stress of bottled emotions causing his teeth to grind.

He approached you with concern spurned from the windows being painted black with night.

“You don’t have to stay behind, you know that, right?” Eddie got your attention in the doorway. You blinked at him, still seeing the words of the book you were reading swim past your vision. “I have a set of keys. I can lock up when I’m done.”

It was the most he’d said to you in two weeks. Three entire sentences composed of more words than he’d uttered if you added them all up since your juggling stunt.

“I don’t mind.”

A meager response which resulted in a standoff.

Eddie wasted no time bunching his shoulders at your defiance. He left streaky fingerprints on the door handle as he reached for his neck, and tucked his fingers under his collar to run his thumb along his chain necklace in a self-soothing gesture. A layer of grime coated his skin. His disheveled hair stuck to his sweaty, dirty neck. The front of his coveralls were blackened with grease, as was the white tank top he wore underneath, peeking above the unfastened top snap.

On the other hand, you overturned your palms and glanced around the barren room. “Is it really that much of a bother that I’m sitting in here being quiet?” you drawled.

“Yes.” Automatic irritation.

“It’s not like I have somewhere to be.”

“Don’t have a comedy routine to rehearse with your roommate?” he intoned in complete monotony.

“Ha-ha,” you replied, just as emotionless. You thought about correcting him in regards to you and Bobbie no longer doing stand up, but decided to grab your backpack and leave without putting up a fight. His concern about you staying late may not be genuine, but it was evident he wanted–or needed–you gone. You didn’t want to push his boundaries when he showed this level of discomfort, especially when the burden of fatigue wore beyond acceptable exhaustion, and he was ready to snap, no matter how hard he tried to quell it.

You surrendered, “Bye, Eddie.”

No reply.

In total darkness, you unchained your bike and hopped on, pedaling past the mailbox when you heard the thunderous slams of the service doors being lowered shut.

And you made it to the edge of the trees before coming to a screeching halt in the middle of the empty street, cracking your neck at the speed of which you whipped around to gawk.

Your heartbeat skipped, then timed itself with the extreme drum beat and opening wail of a guitar accompanied by high-pitched screamed lyrics.

The music may have been muffled, and the inside fluorescent lights struggled to penetrate the dense fog from the upper warehouse windows, but it was as if Eddie was subjecting the desolate parking lot to his own personal Judas Priest concert, hearing be damned.

You didn’t even know the dusty radio in the shop worked. But whatever helped him blow off steam, you supposed.

————

Today was a good day.

Eddie liked Fridays. Most people working weekdays did, but when he came inside early from his morning cigarette, and you hadn’t finished sweeping the shop, he made a point to idle around the orange car at the center, seeking your attention and offering an apology. Not a spoken apology, mind you. But it was rare he initiated eye contact, and when he did it with the purpose of showing deference in his softened features, you understood.

You forgave him with a gentle lift at the corner of your lips for an incident yesterday afternoon, wherein he grunted at you to leave him alone when you were telling him about one of the plays you and Bobbie acted in. Sometimes you required your own reminder of when you were being annoying, and gave him an apologetic smile for bothering him. He nodded. All was right with the world. All was forgiven and now he could get to work.

He wiped his hands down the sides of his coveralls, and leaned his upper half through the open car window to reach the latch for the hood.

The perfect opportunity to mess with him presented itself in all its glory. But first, you couldn’t resist taking a long.. long look at his backside, head tilted, mouth more than a little hung open.

“Huh?” He nearly banged his head on the roof, rounding on you with the sharpest glare in the Midwest.

Under the guise of perfect innocence, you kept brushing the broom over his work boots and toward the dust pan. “Sorry, sir, just doin’ my job. Gotta clean up the filth.”

“An actress and a comedian, huh?” he posed, allowing his smirk to foster as he gripped the edge of the door. “Gonna tell me you were a clown, next?”

“Actually..” You were interrupted by Carl coming in, followed by the near-retired Kevin who worked two days a week.

You greeted them loud and proud, overdoing it in the joy department at the ripe morning hour. Asking about Carl’s wife, and Kevin’s dog; really laying it on thick for the purpose of sending a message to the looming ghoul behind you: I’m annoying you on purpose now.

Still, as you entered the lobby, you caught sight of the sneaky grin on his face before he turned his back to you. A tight-lipped thing he was clearly trying to rid himself of while pulling his hair back into a low bun, and taking the time to tie up a bandana to keep everything out of his face, thus losing his security blanket from the world perceiving he wasn’t in a permanent bad mood.

And of course, Eddie kept up his act through lunch. Stomping through the lobby in that way people did when they were so very obviously trying to appear aloof, and coming across as anything but. Eyes staring straight ahead, but too wide and too aware to not be soliciting a reaction from their periphery. Chest out, muscles flexed. Posture the very opposite of casual, causing them to walk in a stilted manner like a robot.

And his charade continued when he came back from the break room, rounding the corner with softer steps. Slower. Hanging onto the precious milliseconds where your back was to him, and he could absorb your image freely without being noticed. Then, he lifted his chin and returned to his project, pretending you weren’t there.

Yep, so painfully obvious when he forgot reflections existed and you were surrounded by glass.

~~~

Fridays were the days he anticipated most. Work was grueling, and he had many things to finish before the break for the weekend, but he didn’t mind staying late. He preferred it.

Fridays meant he could rely on someone else handling the stressors at home, and he was free to earn his late hours at the garage, indulging in his loud music, and unwinding the constant state of tension lurking beneath the surface. It was the only way he knew how to cope. To stay sane.

Yeah, he loved Fridays. Until a surprise came running at him in her tiny pink shoes.

Eddie screwed his eyes shut and exhaled a long, hard breath through his nose.

“Sorry,” came Wayne’s earnest apology as his nephew wilted; shoulders sagging, head hung. Tapping the wrench he was holding on his thigh. Trying his best to keep it together. “Don’t mean to drop ‘er off on you, but work called me in, so I came here after picking her up.”

Turning away from the engine he was installing, Eddie assumed his authoritative voice, but it came out as a weary sigh. “Adrienne, you know the rules,” he warned lowly, “No running in the shop.” After a beat, he corrected himself. “I mean, no being in the shop at all!”

She giggled as she skipped away from him, sloppy pigtails bouncing with mirth, plastic glittery shoes slapping the concrete floor where a myriad of items she could trip on laid.

“Adrie!” He called out, but she was too busy opposing him to pay attention.

Lucky for her, a certain receptionist caught her by the shoulders before she crashed into a rogue tire.

“Whoa there, little Miss!”

You looked to Eddie for further instruction on what to do with the girl currently laughing up a storm at your feet, but he was frozen. A bit paler, and wringing the back of his neck. Unable to articulate any of the broken consonants on his tongue as he stared at you. You switched your gaze to the older man beside him, but he was equally confused as to why Eddie was having trouble speaking.

Addressing anyone who would like to volunteer an answer, you asked, “And who’s this?”

“This.. This i-is my daughter. She, I, Goddamnit–I’m sorry, can you take her inside? I swear she’ll be quiet. Right, Adrie?”

Seeing the pure desperation settle around his eyes, you assimilated into the role of babysitter, wanting to alleviate his anxiety despite the sudden surge of your own. You held your hand out for her to take, and she did so without a second thought, grasping onto you with her little fingers and standing up, being the one to lead you to your desk.

As the door closed behind you, you overheard the older man clear his throat under the strain of bad news. “The water heater is broken again, and I couldn’t– ..Before I had to leave.”

Their private conversation was sealed behind the glass. You didn’t care to eavesdrop. It was too heartbreaking watching Eddie frantically catch his fingers on his bandana before removing it so he could tangle his curls into his fist, tugging them over his face as he groaned in a fruitless effort to hide himself from the world.

But on the subject of his brunette waves..

His daughter had the same curl pattern. Almost the same cut, too. Clearly Eddie was the acting barber of the family. Something you’d find adorable if it wasn’t for the pang of rejection in your stomach.

Daughter. Family.

The words repeated themselves in your head as your eyes wandered to the black tray beside the tool cabinet. He wore several large rings. Lots of jewelry, in fact, but you couldn’t remember if any of them were a wedding band, and the embarrassment of developing a crush on a married man for weeks without taking two seconds to cross reference his left hand burned your cheeks hot.

“Hi,” his daughter said cutely, swaying from foot to foot while holding two of your fingers.

You crouched to her level. “Wanna draw while we wait?” She nodded, sucking on the tip of her thumb.

Steadying your spinny office chair while she climbed into it, you made sure she was comfortable before bringing out the black stool from Mr. Moore’s office, and sitting next to her. You opened your backpack, flipped to a clean sheet in your sketchpad, and presented it to her along with your colored pencils.

“Hmm, what should we draw?”

Adrie snatched the bubblegum pink color, and began her masterpiece. “Mrs. Teresa read us a book about a mouse.”

Thank God she said it was a mouse, because you didn’t want to be the one to guess what the two oblong circles on the page were.

Adorably, she filled you in on the parts of the story she remembered, and added a triangle of yellow cheese under the mouse, then waited for you to prompt another thing to draw. You followed the nocturnal theme and asked for an owl. She hesitated on what colors to choose, and you helped her pick out the shades of brown and tan.

“How old are you?” you asked while she inundated her bird with too many feathers.

“Four-and-a-half,” she said proudly. “How old are you?”

You raised your brows. “Certainly not four-and-a-half.”

At some point, your arm had wrapped itself around her. Maybe to help shift her closer to the desk. Maybe to collect her in a pseudo-hug when she completed her art. Maybe to let Eddie know everything was okay when he craned his neck to check on you while conversing with the man outside, and you put on your best face, grinning at the story his daughter reenacted about a cartoon she watched that morning at preschool.

“What next? What next?”

“Let’s see.. Can you draw me a bat?”

She was more sure of herself, grabbing the black pencil and outlining an entire colony of bats mid-flight with more attention to detail. “My daddy has bats.”

“He has bats?” you questioned, sweeping loose hair out of her face.

She pointed to her elbow.

Thinking on it for a moment, you perked up. “Oh! He has tattoos?” She recognized the word, nodding vigorously. “Interesting, interesting.”

She’d hardly begun to fill in their wings when Eddie opened the door, and held up the comically small backpack slung on his arm, signaling it was time to leave.

You helped her down from the chair, and she excused herself to the bathroom, which only contributed to the awkward silence when she disappeared down the hall and Eddie was forced to wait at your desk.

It didn’t have to be analyzed, nor stated. The reality.

He had an entire life outside of work.

Duh. Of course he did, but still. It was one he never shared with you. Not like you earned the privilege to know, or to be included in anything he didn’t want to divulge, but with how private he was, it came as a surprise.

Invoking the thousands of dollars you spent on acting classes, you moved on, and kept your tone light, “The butterfly backpack suits you. Not sure about the color, though. Bright pink clashes with your navy blue outfit.”

Tough crowd.

His sulky demeanor permeated in his dull gaze trained on his stained sleeves. “I’m sorry.”

“What for?”

“Dumping her on you like that. Normally my uncle has the day off work and can take care of her, but he’s gotta go in because someone called out sick, so, yeah..”

If it were at all appropriate, you would reach across the countertop to soothe him from picking at his torn cuticles. But it wasn’t appropriate. So you didn’t.

You locked your hands behind your head and leaned back in your chair. “Funnily enough, I worked a brief stint as a clown for children’s birthday parties, so I’m actually quite comfortable entertaining them.”

“I’m shocked,” he said, void of shock. Finding the strength to lift his eyes from the animals she drew on your sketchpad to the encouraging curve of your lips, he tried to match your grin, but it fell flat. “At least you can go home on time today.”

You sucked in a breath for a quick retort, but Adrie interrupted you in her tiny voice, “Daddy! I can’t reach the sink!” And maybe that was for the best before you humiliated yourself more.

Because, the truth of the matter was, you always had the ability to go home on time. It was only because Eddie stayed behind that you made excuses to sit at your desk past your scheduled hours, prattling off some nonsense about memorizing the catalog.

“C’mon,” he said to his daughter, supporting her on his hip. “Let’s get going.” His tone wasn’t unkind, but it wasn’t exactly patient, either. The creeping exhaustion he kept under wraps was breaking through. Stress fractures in the mask he wore around others. The sanity he gripped for dear life for the sake of Adrie.

He caught the empathetic pinch between your brows, and used the last of his energy to turn so his daughter could see you. “Say ‘bye,’ and ‘thank you’ for playing, Adrie.”

She waved with the same enthusiasm as a golden retriever wagging their tail. “Bye! Thank you!”

“Bye, Adrie,” you laughed. “Bye, Eddie.”

Like usual, he didn’t respond. Today that was okay.

————

Eddie was on the verge. He was trembling, failing to loosen a bolt on the water heater to investigate why it broke–again–when his hair was yanked–again–and his knuckles scraped a bent piece of metal–again.

He was kneeling on his kitchen floor, craving nothing more than a shower to wash away the work week until his skin burned, but he was not afforded the simple luxury.

No relaxation. Not for him. No one to call on when Wayne was gone. This was his life to fix. On his own.

After repairing cars all day, he was exhausted. Touched out. But Adrie needed something from him, something he couldn’t understand with his tired mind. All he wanted was a break. All he needed was a break from her using his coveralls to scale his body. All he sought was the energy to deal with her pulling his hair.

But he was not spared the fortune.

“Adrie, please,” he resorted to begging. And when she didn’t stop, he withdrew his arms from the closet, and pried her hands off his hair, peeling her away and setting her on the floor.

She made to grab him again, but he used his waning strength to squeeze her arms to her sides, giving her his full attention she fought for.

“Can I get you a snack? Or put something on the TV? Do you want a nap?” He listed off anything, shaking and desperate.

“I wanna play with Daddy.”

Guilt amplified the shame.

He was a shit dad. He knew. He did his best and it was never good enough.

“I know you do,” the words fluctuated in the wake of water stinging his eyes. “I know you do, but Daddy needs to fix this. I can make you a snack and you can eat it in the living room. How ‘bout that?” Under normal circumstances, that wasn’t allowed. She had a penchant for dropping sticky food on the carpet–which was just another thing he’d have to get around to cleaning–but he was willing to bend the rules for the promise of a shower.

Adrienne thought about his offer for a long while, and settled on his deal.

And yet, it was hours.. hours until he was able to sit down.

The water heater required more service than he initially thought, and his daughter wasn’t entertained by herself for very long. She came to him in intervals of minutes, climbing up his back and hanging from his neck. He stopped caring. He didn’t have it within him. He made sure she was safe, and that was it.

He fed her a dreadful dinner, and she was so happy for her overcooked noodles in pasta sauce. He saved the leftovers. Put them in the nearly-empty fridge and took out two beers for himself, cracking the tops before sinking into the couch.

Adrienne stood between his legs while he wrapped her in her favorite blanket, and placed her in his lap. The top half of his coveralls were tied by the sleeves around his waist. No matter how dirty he was, this was how they ended the night. Him staring blankly at the TV, and her cheek on his chest, ear pressed to his white tank top, listening to his heartbeat. Curling her fists into her tattered quilt in response to him nuzzling the top of her head, and resting there in a content hum. Closing his eyes. Turning off his brain. Tipping back swigs of beer until he felt better, and giving her kisses until she giggled and squirmed.

The kisses were as much for her as they were for him, giving and receiving the only affection in his life. Apologizing for earlier when he couldn’t stand to be touched.

Her hug was small, yet powerful. Clumsy, but what he needed. Another person to gather in his arms and have their weight fall asleep on his chest.

He collected Adrie, and gave her a few more doting kisses while carrying her to bed.

“Stay, Daddy.”

Sometimes he did, just to have a real bed to sleep in, but with how long it took to fix the water heater, there was only enough hot water to bathe her. He’d have to wait until the morning.

“Not tonight, Daddy’s still dirty from work.”

It hurt to walk away. It hurt more to sleep on the lumpy couch. Hurt worse when Wayne came home to crash on the roll out bed, and the sun funneled through the windows, and the day started all over again.

Hurt the most when Eddie thought about the surprised look on your face when you learned he had a daughter.

Hurt the least when he imagined a world in which you wouldn’t care, and still flirted with him come Monday morning, because fuck, it was the only thing he looked forward to after Adrie’s meltdowns on the way to school.

[spookygibberish]

Funeralworms comprise a genus of Juggernaut characterized by a heavily-built, serpentine form, the absence of eyes, a single pair of broad, paddle-like forelimbs, and a prominent array of individually articulated, crushing jaws. They are employed in the disposal of organic materials, the production of high quality fertilizer, and the reclamation of Ibis tissue from corpses. The latter function earning them a central role in Bibat funeral rites, hence the name.

In Bibat, it is believed that Ibis tissue, while a powerful creative force in life, is equally capable of corruption, especially when touched by death. It is therefor not adequate to bury the Ibistouched, since Ibis tissue, if allowed to decompose, has the potential to render the earth fallow and breed illness. By consuming the Ibistouched dead, Funeralworms collect the Ibis tissue from the flesh, freeing it from corruption, purifying it, and accumulating it in their bodies to be returned to the Oracle System. It is mandatory that the corpses of all dagnyds, Sansin, Thrones and Throne-children both headless and unbodied alike, be fed to the Funeralworm. This is not a necessary funeral rite for those who are not Ibistouched, but the devout often choose to have it preformed upon their death. If a funeralworm is not available, cremation is an acceptable alternative.

Funeralworms are semi-aquatic dagnyds that reside entirely in special pools (bymūt)constructed for their housing. At their least elaborate, bymūt are little more than shallow ponds dug into clay soil, but they are often encircled by a low, stone fence with an offering platform at one end, and a chamber for dung collection at the other. These pools are usually located several kilometers from areas of habitation, although many larger cities have grown to encircle bymūt that were originally constructed a more acceptable distance away. These tend to be the most elaborate of their kind, ending up with bespoke temple complexes erected around them. As the functions of the Funeralworm are deeply linked to Bibat customs, their husbandry is entirely handled by Sansin, though the service they offer is a public one.

The design of the bymūt is necessary for the survival of fully mature funeralworms, who are not only so large as to be incapable of freely moving over dry land, but risk being crushed beneath their own weight without the support of water. Newborn funeralworms, at about a meter and a half in length, are the most mobile of their kind, and often attempt to escape their bymūt to explore. This is usually permitted (with supervision), as such young individuals have limited processing capacity, and rarely exist in a context where the sole burden of waste management relies on them. Many Sansin are sympathetic to the plight of the Funeralworm, and see little purpose in restricting the movement of a creature which never approaches agile at any age, and for most of its decades long life will be confined to a single small pool.

Despite a life spent entirely in water, Funeralworms are entirely air-breathing, and are not particularly good swimmers. They are protected from flooding by the high fat content of their bodies, which renders them buoyant and unlikely to drown. The greatest risk floods pose is temptation. Rising water allows Funeralworms the opportunity to travel freely from their bymūt, and many die after becoming stranded once the water level recedes, especially those which are particularly old and heavy.

[within-your-eyes-if]

Within Your Eyes Intro Post

DEMO [Last Updated June 22nd, 2024]

You are a Warden, a monster hunter who has come to the Kingdom of Auris which has become the forefront runner in it’s acceptance of magic and supernatural alike within the West Highlands. But when strange happenstances occur, you are called upon not just because of skill, but also because of your condition. A condition you’ve lied about for last 12 years.

Unearth the secrets that magic holds as a new form is discovered.

Befriend or romance those who attempt to worm through the cracks of the mask you wear. Or will you fight to keep them at arms length?

Regardless of where your journey takes you, your feathered friend will be at your side. As he always has been.

This story will be 18+ for the following reasons:

Explicit and erotic intimate scenes

Death, including of a child

Violence, blood and gore

Thoughts of suicide

Mentions of suicide

Self harm

Explicit language

Mental trauma

Horror elements

Feelings of being watched

NOTE: Your character will be pretending to have a disability (blindness), not because of a disorder but out of self preservation.

This list may be updated.

You are running away from your past. As you take a this new job, you're forced to confront it. What vices do you use to cope? Will you learn to rely on others or will your raven be your only source of comfort? Will you feel guilty for your lies? Yours will be a journey of self-forgiveness, or maybe you'll only fall deeper into despair.

Play as a man, woman, or non-binary. Gay, straight, or bi.

Plenty of customization options from physical appearance to clothes.

Φ Admos de Le Wren ─ Male | Draconian | Second-Born

Admos, the Dragon Lord of Auris, ascended to the throne following a devastating conflict with his father, bypassing his older brother's claim. This decision deepened the rift among his siblings. As he enters his fifth year as sovereign, Admos grapples with guilt and uncertainty about his role in the family's discord. Will you help him find clarity or fuel his doubts?

Φ Lyth/Lyari de Le Wren ─ Gender Selectable | Draconian | Tenth-Born

Ly took on the role of Viceroy/Vicereine in Auris and became their brother Admos's Right Hand, playing a vital part in the kingdom's recovery after a conflict with their father. However, an incident they triggered over a year and a half ago almost led to another war, casting doubt on their suitability for their position and their aid to their brother. Will you help Ly grapple with their past actions and uncertainties about their role as Viceroy/Vicereine, or will their internal conflicts remain unresolved?

Φ Leese/Lea van Laere ─ Gender Selectable | Human | Vampire

Born into nobility, Lee's life as the child of prominent figures in Lenia took an unexpected turn when they were turned into a vampire. Forced to leave their home, Lee now wrestles with their new identity, desperately seeking meaning in their existence and if it's worth maintaining.

Is Lee a monster consumed by instinct, or can you help them reclaim their humanity?

Φ Xiang Xiaowen/Xiaodan ─ Gender Selectable | Human

Xiao, an ambassador dispatched to Auris to aid the Dragon Lord in Council matters, fought hard to secure their role. Serving as an unofficial advisor, they frequently share insights to assist Admos. Yet their unwavering dedication to obtaining this position hints at a deeper motivation. Perhaps they will reveal it to you.

Φ Gabriel Duarte ─ Gender Selectable | Human

Assigned to you as an assistant of sorts, the recently knighted guard is searching for their place within the Order. Perhaps their new mission will set them on a path for glory, or sink them beneath the turmoils it takes to obtain.

Φ Hestia ─ She/They | Elf? | Witch

Even the most kind have their secrets.

Φ ???

Poly Routes: Lyth/Lyari and Gabriel | Leese/Lea and Gabriel | Xiaowen/Xiaodan and Hestia

Love Triangle: Admos and ???

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

FAQ

Romance Information Post

Ko-Fi

Tumblr Asks are disabled for the time being.

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

WYE will always be free with chapters released once they are finished.

This is a planned trilogy.

Thank you for reading and for your support! ♥

[driverlando]

🗞️ is that max verstappen buying butt plugs in the same sex store that i am currently in or ??? OMFG it is him!!! he just bought handcuffs too…

Spotted: Max Verstappen’s Surprising Shopping Spree—Handcuffs and More!

In a shocking and unexpected twist, Formula 1 World Champion Max Verstappen was recently spotted indulging in some rather intimate shopping. Witnesses report seeing the Red Bull Racing star in a well-known Amsterdam sex shop, browsing a selection of adult toys and accessories. The surprise sighting has left fans and onlookers buzzing with curiosity and excitement.

The Unexpected Encounter

An anonymous source—who happened to be shopping in the same store—couldn’t believe their eyes when they recognised Verstappen casually strolling through the aisles. “Is that Max Verstappen buying butt plugs in the same sex store that I am currently in, or ??? OMFG, it is him!!!” the excited witness tweeted. The sighting quickly became the talk of Twitter.

Verstappen, who is known for his fierce competitiveness on the track, seemed quite relaxed and at ease during his shopping trip. Dressed in a low-key outfit, the 26-year-old driver didn’t shy away from picking up some interesting items. Among his purchases, the witness noted, were a set of handcuffs—raising plenty of eyebrows and questions.

A Peek Into Verstappen’s Private Life?

This unexpected encounter offers a rare glimpse into the private life of one of Formula 1’s most private and focused athletes. While Verstappen is typically reserved about his personal affairs, this outing suggests he’s not afraid to explore new and adventurous aspects of his life.

The incident has sparked a flurry of speculation among fans and the media. Who is the lucky partner joining Verstappen on this adventurous journey? Is this a new relationship, or is he simply adding a bit of spice to an existing one? While the Dutch driver has kept his romantic life relatively low-profile, this public purchase has certainly set tongues wagging.

Fans React

As news of the sighting spread, reactions have been mixed. Some fans were amused and delighted by the revelation, taking to social media to share their thoughts. “Max Verstappen buying handcuffs and butt plugs? I guess we all have our hobbies!” one fan tweeted, accompanied by a laughing emoji. Another wrote, “Love seeing F1 drivers being normal people with fun sides! You do you, Max!”

Others were more reserved, respecting Verstappen’s right to privacy. “Everyone’s entitled to their personal life, even celebs,” one comment read. “Let the man shop in peace.”

The Shop’s Response

The sex shop, which is popular among locals and tourists alike, declined to comment directly on the specific purchases or the presence of high-profile customers. However, they did issue a general statement: “We respect the privacy of all our clients and are pleased to offer a discreet and comfortable shopping experience. Everyone is welcome to explore their desires in a safe and judgement-free environment.”

What’s Next?

While the incident has certainly piqued public interest, it remains to be seen if Verstappen will address the situation. Known for his focus and seriousness on the track, this playful and unexpected side of him has caught many by surprise. Whether this was a one-time visit or the start of a more open exploration of his personal interests, only time will tell.

For now, fans and followers of Max Verstappen will be left to speculate and, perhaps, see him in a slightly different light. This peek behind the curtain reminds us all that even the most celebrated athletes are human, with their own unique tastes and interests.

Stay tuned for more celebrity gossip and behind-the-scenes glimpses into the lives of your favourite stars. Whether on the track or off, the excitement never stops!

[baeshijima]

— of lattes and dozing generals

in which you're just a cafe employee, and he is the luofu's revered general — the one who can never seem to stray too far from you, no matter how much time passes.

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 10.4k wc, fluff, some angst, hurt/comfort, coffee shop!au(-but-not-really-but-yeah-but-also-not), set slightly before current timeline, (old) friends to lovers, (attempts at) humour, pining pining bc they are old..., mentions of death (reader killed a mara-struck for the first time), hints of blade x reader if you squint

A/N : after a month the fic is done... i am so unwell for this man good lord ಥ_ಥ

General Jing Yuan is a cafe addict. That much is common knowledge among the citizens of the Luofu. Spanning from those who have been around for as long as he — and even older — to children and visitors alike, there’s not one person who hasn’t heard of this rumour.

When asked by a few brave (or nosy, depending on how you look at it) souls, the corners of his lips merely quirk up in a display of fond affection as he vocalises with equal sentiment, “They have my favourite there. How can I possibly resist the temptation?”

…Yeah. Whatever that meant.

Unsurprisingly, word spreads fast. News of the Cloud Knight’s general making regular trips to a meagre cafe? Just what in the world did they have to cause the great, beloved General Jing Yuan to return time and time again?

In the end, no one could actually figure out what his favourite item on the menu was. Every time he went in, it would always result in him leaving with something new! The only consistent occurrence, however, was the same employee taking his order with an expression akin to that of exasperation.

Meanwhile, to the regulars who have grown used to his profound presence within the humble cafe, they know better. This so-called ‘favourite menu item’ rumour that’s been going around? Preposterous! Having bore witness to the general breeze through the entrance in a bee-line to wherever it is you may be currently stationed (typically behind the counter) on many occasions, they’re confident the last thing in Jing Yuan’s mind when visiting is the menu.

After all, for what reason would he have to visit other than to converse with and see his favourite employee?

As a Xianzhou Native, you’ve experienced many oddities and menial routines throughout your extensive life. From being a medic-slash-supporter during countless wars and purges to your current job in a humble cafe, your options are beginning to run thin. After all, life is about exploring the new and revisiting the old (in your philosophy, at least), and there’s plenty of time to do so after having lived as long as you have.

Granted, outside of your role in purging the Denizens of Abundance, it’s safe to say your current occupation in the cafe has been your longest one yet! Well, you suppose the citizens of the Luofu — and, by extension, the Xianzhou Alliance — were never really ones for drastic change. At least the outworlders who come to visit bring some semblance of entertainment in your mundane life.

Yes. Your simple, mundane life you have come to appreciate.

“I see you’re busy as ever,” comments a baritone voice — languid in intonation yet you’re no stranger to the power which belies it. Against your better judgement, your eyes lift from the marbled counter to meet the smiling face of the bane of your existence, and the general whom the masses respect and fawn over. “Mind taking another customer?”

Ah. Right. This guy.

Out of everything that has been thrown at you, you’re almost certain this man takes the cake for the strangest experience in your life. And the longest, you suppose.

Although, it seems the same can’t be said for your coworkers, as you practically hear their beams of excitement before they can vocalise it.

“Welcome back, General Jing Yuan!”

You sigh at the enthused greeting from one of your coworkers, the beginnings of a headache teetering along the edges of your conscience. 

Ignoring the commotion, you resume your work. What was it you were making again…? Oh, right. One milk tea and a—

“If you keep frowning like that, you’ll drive away customers.”

“Will it drive you away?” you retort, focusing on the last part of the order. After securing the small fruit tart from behind the display case, you pass the milk tea and pastry to a coworker so they can take it to the customer.

“Sorry to disappoint,” he drawls, impish smile magnified by the glimmer in his eyes when you turn to make contact, “but it’ll take much more than that to drive me away.”

You stare at him for a few seconds, unsure of what it is exactly he wants from you this time. Your eyes begin to narrow. “Are you saying a smile will drive you away?”

He feigns an exaggerated expression of hurt. “Drive me away? Oh, how your accusations wound me!” A chuckle bubbles from his throat when you glare at him for his theatrics, lifting his hands up in mock surrender. “Fine, fine. I concede. Would you believe me if I said I’m worried your attention will be stolen away from me if you smile?”

“Not at all.”

“I’m merely looking out for you, [Name],” he says with a sigh, a shake of his head and a light tutting sound. “While I am immune to your smile, the customers are not. I don’t wish for you to be bored due to the lack of customers.”

Seriously, you can’t believe this guy sometimes. If he wants a challenge, then you accept.

And so you close your eyes and present your best century-perfected customer smile (which, to your credit, has been the number one selling point for many of the regulars and returning customers), deciding to play along with his whims. “Welcome back, General Jing Yuan. Would you like your usual today?”

(Granted, he likes to vary his order every now and then but the caramel latte seems to be his most consistent choice as of late. Pretty good taste, if you do say so yourself.)

“…”

…Why is it so quiet all of a sudden? Did everyone just unanimously decide to up and leave?? Is there a minute of silence you’re unaware of???

A meek cough disrupts your thoughts. Relieved at the new sound, you open your eyes only to be stumped by the general in front of you. His prior relaxed posture is now rigid, eyes focusing everywhere but on you. Wait, upon closer inspection, is he… shaking?

“...Please excuse me.”

Huh?

You’re not given much time to process his words. With one swift turn he’s already stalking towards the door.

“Hey! What happened to not being driven away?!” He doesn’t turn back at your shout. No, it seems to only make him speed-walk faster. Barely a blink and he’s gone, the only indication of his presence being the echoing chimes of the bell.

He bigged himself up saying he wouldn’t be driven away but then he goes and leaves you in the dust the moment you smile.

What a hypocrite.

(Unbeknown to you, the regulars who happened to witness the spectacle could only chuckle in fond exasperation at their general’s splutter and flushed skin, the only time they can truly get a read on his thoughts, and your dumbfounded expression.)

“One milk tea, as always.”

“No need to sound so enthusiastic,” Tingyun laughs before thanking you. A satisfied hum leaves her lips when drinking the beverage, and that’s all the indication you need to know you have, once again, aced the recipe.

Well done, me! You deserve a pat on the back and a century-long holiday away from as many people as possible!

Graceful movements snap you out of your fantasies. You blink rapidly to process the flutter of a fan, a disarmingly sweet giggle and a cold, paper-like material pressed into your palm.

“Have fun with your dream man~”

“Wait what—”

And then she’s gone, leaving you to stare blankly at the place she was standing mere moments prior. You’re starting to see a pattern here with people abruptly leaving you in a fit of confusion.

Well, nothing you can do about it now, you suppose. So instead you move your focus to the small, thin object enclosed in your hand. Its now-exposed surface gleams under the cafe lights, the reflection obscuring the details. A picture? But what can you do with a—

Wait. Is that… Jing Yuan… winking at the camera…?

Sure enough, under the pressure of your scrutiny as you hold the picture in various angles and heights, the winking face of Jing Yuan stares back at you in mockery. Somehow, this photo feels slightly more personal than the usual ones Tingyun distributes to the masses. Actually, you’re not sure how she even manages to obtain these photos in the first place and, quite frankly, you think it's best you don’t know.

…The hell am I supposed to do with this?

Just as you were wondering what to do with the polaroid, a familiar voice comes from behind — almost as if the small, glossy image clutched between your fingers had the ability to summon him. “If you wanted my photo, all you had to do was ask.”

“Please don’t misunderstand, general,” you deadpan in response, your head swerving to meet his amused gaze before placing the photocard on the counter. “I was given this against my own will.”

“Is that so?”

“Yes.”

“Hmm,” he hums, a melodic sound which serves to speed up the palpitations of your heart. It comes to an abrupt slow, however, when you spot the corners of his lips lift into a smug curve, already dreading whatever it is that may leave his lips. “I wonder why I find that hard to believe.”

“That's not my problem.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

…

“Stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” He laughs at your groan, eyes crinkling with joy at the dispense of your suffering. Yeah, why suffer when you can make drinks? Besides, you already know he’ll accept whatever it is you make, so there’s no reason to ask for his opinion!

He follows close behind when you venture behind the counter in search of some ingredients, uncaring for the stares he receives from the customers who aren’t regulars. 

When you crouch, you shoot one last accusatory glare at the still-smiling general before disappearing to rifle through cabinets underneath. “For someone in a position such as yours, you sure do have a lot of spare time to be spending it on a humble cafe worker such as myself.”

You’re not sure if he responds, too focused on searching for what you need. After finding the ingredients, you rock back on your heels and stand, the top of your head brushing against something smooth. When you rise, you realise it was the back of Jing Yuan’s hand which you made contact with, as he grips the edge of the counter where your head most definitely would have hit if he hadn’t cushioned the impact.

He merely grins when your eyes travel up the length of his arm to meet his gaze. “Well, what can I say other than you are worth every second of my time.”

…

“Don’t look at me like that, [Name].”

“Like what?” You watch as his smile strains when you repeat his words from earlier, a victorious grin creeping its way onto your lips. “Alright, alright. I’ll make your drink now. It won’t take long.”

True to your words, it doesn’t take long. Within a matter of minutes you’ve prepared a caramel latte. (It was the only thing you could find ingredients for. Perhaps it’s time to go shopping again…)

After securing the lid on the takeaway cup, you hand it over to him. He reaches out, your fingers brushing slightly and—

The silence is unnervingly loud as you both stare blankly at the spilled drink rolling across the counter.

“...I’ll be charging extra for that latte today.”

“Aha…”

You’re no stranger to quiet days in the cafe, and neither are the staff and regulars. After a particular incident way back when, it’s safe to say the establishment has faced many peaceful shifts. Though that’s not to say there hasn’t been any disputes from customers, but they’re usually small, easy to resolve issues that only require a practised smile and a (sometimes threatening) deal before sending them on their merry way.

Today, however, doesn’t seem to be one of those easy days.

“Sir, I’ll have to ask you to leave,” your voice resounds in the quiet cafe, stern and unwavering. The man in question tears his attention away from his phone to glance over his shoulder, his once haughty expression now fallen into a scowl.

“And why’s that?” he asks after telling the other person on the line to wait for a moment. “I’m not being disruptive to anyone.” With the progressively hostile looks he’s been getting since earlier, you beg to differ. Well, even if he clearly is an outworlder unaware of the Xianzhou customs, that doesn’t justify his ignorance.

And you decide to tell him just that.

“Since you seem to be a visitor, let me give you a piece of advice: it would do you well to cease all mentions of seeking immortality when aboard any of the Xianzhou ships, lest you want to make an enemy of yourself to the locals.”

“Oh? And who are you to tell me that?” 

Your eye twitches at his haughty tone. Within a second your signature customer smile is plastered onto your expression, an even tone conveying your next words, “A Xianzhou Native, of course.”

And the next thing you know there’s a seething customer causing a disruption in the middle of the cafe. Though not unexpected, you still held onto a fraying hope that the issue could be resolved somewhat peacefully.

How bothersome.

A light weight plops itself atop the line of your shoulder, shifting slightly with a soft brush against your jaw before coming to a still. With a blink, you and the man share a brief moment of confusion, and you find yourself more stupefied at the finch gazing up at you with a slight tilt of its head.

It looks familiar, but that isn’t much to go off of. Besides, the first person to come to mind already said he would be busy this week, so you highly doubt he’s managed to appear at just the right time like always… right? Right—

“What seems to be the issue here?”

Your answer comes in the form of a tender warmth encasing your back, a beguiling voice resounding from behind, and a familiar scent relaxing your tensed muscles. It doesn’t take a genius to recognise who’s standing behind you, but perhaps it’s because you’re so used to his presence that you can identify him the moment he steps into a room.

“General…” you trail off at his unexpected appearance. Jing Yuan does not meet your gaze, however, instead choosing to remain upright behind you and fixate his focus onto the man who kicked up a fuss, expression hardened into that akin of a general.

The little finch is not deterred by the overwhelming presence Jing Yuan now exudes. Rather, it chirps happily and nudges its head against your jaw once more before making itself comfortable along the slope of your neck. Looking at it a little closer you realise it's the one who sometimes greets you when you and Jing Yuan meet up, finding purchase on your shoulder during a round or two of starchess. A smile makes its way onto your lips when it leans into the touch of your finger.

It would seem the small bird did a great job in distracting you, however, for the next thing you know wind sweeps past you, exclamatory apologies spewed out in haste follow and gradually fade in its wake. There’s a faint chime of the bell and a missing presence in front of you.

Oh, you blink, he ran away.

Jing Yuan turns to you then, expression much softer than it was a few moments prior. “Are you alright?” he asks, his hand gently squeezing your free shoulder.

“Yeah, thank you,” you sigh. Your fingers lift to massage away the built up tension in your temples. “I’m sorry you had to see that on your break.”

There’s a small pause. “You shouldn’t apologise for something like that.”

“Huh…?” It was a mistake to meet his gaze, you belatedly realise, for your breath is ceased by the flame which burns molten gold, your heart caught in your throat amidst a gravitas you haven’t seen for a while.

His lips part, tone gradually changing to something more light-hearted; a stark contrast to his current expression. “You were just doing your job. It was that customer who was in the wrong. Honestly, he should have known better than to talk so flippantly about that topic.”

Well, you can’t refute his words.

“What are you doing here anyway?” You cough in an attempt to divert the topic, only to raise a brow at his unreadable countenance. “I thought you said you would be busy.”

Jing Yuan pauses, as though hesitant, before responding, “I sent you a message to send notice of my visit but you didn’t even leave me on read, so I knew there was something wrong.”

“I didn’t even notice…” Without a moment’s haste, you pull out your phone. There on your home screen displays notification banners: 6 unread messages from my headache <3.

my headache <3: I have some free time, so I will be paying you a visit. Don’t mention this to Qingzu though, she doesn’t know I am taking a break. =w=

my headache <3: Are you busy? You don’t usually leave me on delivered for longer than five minutes.

my headache <3: Did I do something to make you mad?

my headache <3: [Name]?

my headache <3: …

my headache <3: I will be at the cafe soon. Wait for me.

A pang of guilt seeps into your conscience. You hadn’t realised he sent so many messages. Did that customer take up that much of your attention? Also, do you really not leave him on delivered for more than five minutes??

“Oh! You kept the heart I put there?” Your thoughts are promptly cut off by the baritone voice resounding beside your ear. His light breaths puff against your skin as he leans against you, peeking over your shoulder to read the messages he sent.

“Why wouldn’t I?” you huff, eyes trained onto the device to avoid meeting his gaze. “I said you could make any changes you wanted to your contact name and this was what you wanted.”

He stiffens at your words, breath stuttering ever so slightly against your skin but quickly catches himself. There’s no response for a while, instead a wave of calm washes over you as you scroll through your phone with Jing Yuan watching from his place over your shoulder, sometimes recalling a particular memory which comes to mind at certain photos in your camera roll.

It goes on like this for a little while until he shifts, strands of silver brushing against the shell of your ear when he releases a light sigh. You glance over your shoulder only to see him already looking at you, the lines of his features soft and gentle.

“You know,” he starts, voice soft with a twinge of nostalgia seeping through, “I’m your first and longest supporter.”

Well, that certainly came out of the blue.

But he’s not wrong, and perhaps that is why you find yourself huffing out a breathy laugh in response. “What? You want me to praise you?”

“Would you?” he asks, an instantaneous response to your lighthearted jest.

You stare at him, incredulous, but he doesn’t falter. His gaze holds weight, seizing your breath and rendering you speechless. Ah, he really isn’t good for your heart.

“Keep dreaming, general.”

Despite the scoff backing those words, you make no effort to hide your smile. And though you don’t catch it, Jing Yuan makes no effort to hide the adoration glistening in his gaze.

Sidestep to the left. Duck. Step back. Parry. Clang! Step to the right. Pivot. Clack! Raise your arm—!

A sword flies up, twirling mid-air as it plummets back down and digs cleanly into the grass. It gleams under the artificial sun, becoming a focal point in the otherwise barren grounds. You straighten your posture, spear at your side and a bottle of water in hand as you approach the worn-out aspiring Sword Champion.

“You’ve improved, Yanqing.” You smile when he looks up, breathing ragged as he mumbles his thanks before guzzling down the fluids of the water bottle now in his hands. You sit beside him, and it’s not long before a refreshed sigh escapes him, setting the near-empty bottle in his lap.

A lapse of silence. A faint breeze. A wave of heat. A shift of gold.

You sigh upon noticing the boy’s gaze switching between you and your weapon. “What is it?”

“That spear,” he starts, “I’ve never seen anything like it before.”

“How so?”

“It’s different from the spears the rest of the Cloud Knight’s use and, even though it has a similar aura to the general’s Devastator Glaive, it feels like… it was almost made for you. A weapon that only you can wield.”

For a teen yet to explore the larger part of life, he is frighteningly perceptive. He’s quick to pick up subtle nuances and yet retains that innocent curiosity which enables him to ask questions most adults would not. It’s part of a child’s charm, and you can only hope he will never be robbed of that part of him.

“Made for me, you say?” You cast a glance to your side, vision tunnelling into the fine details which adorns the crafted spear. Despite the many centuries the weapon has braved through, it still appears as though it were only crafted yesterday. Its colours are still vibrant and its exterior holds minimal wear. Your breath hitches when your gaze trails down towards the hilt and hones in on the faintly carved names: yours and the one who gifted this to you.

Your mind numbs. There’s a matching bow which sits in your home, you recall, locked away in a spare room deep within the confinement of your walls. There are other accompaniments, too, surrounding it in decorated, bejewelled boxes filled with handicrafts ranging from everyday trinkets to carefully crafted ornaments carved from the purest of jades.

It sits there, collecting dust all year round. All year round except for one single day — a day when your thoughts surge to new heights and can only be tamed when in that room, cleaning off layers of dust and spiralling into seemingly endless nostalgia. It serves as both a commemoration of the past as well as a reminder for what will never again be.

Immortality truly is a wretched thing.

“[Name]?”

You blink, snapping out of your thoughts. Yanqing, who was sitting beside you mere moments prior, is in front of you with a hand on your shoulder. He probably shook you while you were lost in thought, you surmise. How mortifying…

“Your teacher seems to be slacking off,” you cough, swiftly changing the topic. He doesn’t take note of your awkward transition, but, if he did, he’s done a good job hiding it. “Is he busy?”

“The general?” he repeats in a murmur, chin held between his thumb and forefinger with a contemplative expression. He blinks. “Nope! No clue.”

“I see,” you sweatdrop. Worry begins to pool in the back of your mind, but it is quickly smothered when Yanqing jumps up, bouncing on his heels as he shows off his recovered energy and readiness to spar with you for another round.

You cast one last glance at your spear before standing, following close behind an eager Yanqing as he bounds to the middle of the field with his sword in hand.

(You can still recall him; the young man who gave you these gifts way back when, putting on airs of nonchalance in a poor attempt at masking his bashfulness, the furtive glances, the hand raised to rub the back of his neck, the awkward cough he always did before excusing himself after gifting whatever it was he made that time — all of it is practically ingrained into your mind.

You can still recall him; how could you not when he is the same man who haunts you when in your lonesome.)

--

He’s not here. Again.

You’ve lost count of the number of times your focus darts to the door when a resounding chime of the bell is heard, only to be left with aching disappointment when it turns out to be anyone other than Jing Yuan. His radio silence is concerning, though you suppose any kind of silence from him has that effect considering he always made sure to notify you when he would be busy, therefore unable to visit you due to urgent matters.

Has he been well? Has he been eating regularly? What of his sleeping habits? He’s not overworking himself again, is he? What if he left on an expedition without saying anything?

Your answer appears in the form of Yukong.

“The general?” she repeats, blowing lightly on the freshly brewed coffee before answering you. “While I am not completely in the know, I’ve heard in passing that he has been cooped up in his office. For once.”

It’s practically common knowledge to the Luofu citizens how Jing Yuan tends to be absent from the Seat of Divine Foresight. More often than not, he will appear as a hologram, sometimes choosing to instead give advance notice of his lack of presence. Well, you suppose most have grown accustomed to finding him at the cafe. So for him to now hide away in his office without a word is of course a matter of concern. After all, the last time he did this was years ago, and that was because he didn’t want you to worry about… him.

You pause, fists clenching at your belated realisation. A tinge of frustration begins to creep up, but the concern over his condition is far more prevalent, curling around and constricting your heart as worry clouds your senses. “That guy…”

--

“I didn’t expect to see you here,” he comments, voice languid in a valiant attempt to hide the undertone of surprise at your arrival. He quickly recovers with a genial smile. “To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival?” 

Admittedly, it would have fooled many others. Unfortunately, you have known him too long to be fooled by such tactics. You’re sure he knows, if the slight waver in his gaze has anything to say about it.

Instead of answering, you choose to remain still in front of the now-shut doors. He doesn’t seem to notice though, as he merely resumes his task in a robotic manner. Except for the two of you, the office is void of the usual stationed knights and his few assistants, making the room feel much larger. It’s daunting.

Your unease does not fade after hearing his voice. No, it only heightens, his sluggish movements and voice laden with exhaustion further spiralling you into a state of distress over his well-being. You watch his slow blinks, head dipping slightly only to snap up to prevent himself from falling into slumber before continuing to sign document after document, replacing each signed sheet with a new one in a never-ending cycle.

It would have been comical if you weren’t aware of the fact he’s been neglecting his health to finish these papers.

Typically, he wouldn’t be having this issue, always having been the type to get his work done ahead of time despite his… less than professional demeanour at times, though it seems the papers have been brought in heavy bulk this time around; that, or they contained pressing matters which couldn’t be put off.

“Take a break,” you finally say, unable to stand the sight of him pushing himself any longer. He doesn’t spare you a glance. If it weren’t for the brief pause in his writing before continuing, you would have thought he didn’t hear you. Teeth digging into your lower lip and eyes narrowing into a glare, you try once more. “I’m serious. Take a break.”

Palpable silence douses the room.

And then he lifts his head, meeting your furrowed gaze. His eyes are anything but bright, a dull glaze coupled with dark eyebags signifying his lack of sleep.

“I have to finish signing these papers,” Jing Yuan sighs out, giving what you assume to be an apologetic glance before lowering his head back down to resume the paperwork.

Unfortunately for him, you won’t allow him to succeed in his attempts.

“And I don’t want you to collapse from overwork again!” He flinches at that, and you know you have managed to convince him when he places his pen down on the table’s surface and relents with a deep sigh. When he finally nods, defeated, the building tension dissipates and you’re able to breathe without worry again.

With cautious steps, you make your way over to the large chair. Having been in this room countless times, it’s easy for you to glide to where Jing Yuan sits despite the darkness which now drapes like a veil over the interior.

When you reach his seat, your eyes harden at the scattered documents, staring at them for a few seconds in hopes it will miraculously burn them, before tearing your gaze away and focusing on your weary friend.

“Let’s get you home,” you mutter. You lean down and prepare to help him stand in case he needs the extra support after having sat for too long. It doesn’t go as planned, however, when he tugs you down beside him and plops his head onto your lap. “Hey—!”

“Just for a moment…” he intercepts, voice heavily laced with sleep. The second you lock eyes, you know it’s all over for you. “Just for a moment, stay here with me.”

And you sigh knowing ‘a moment’ will turn into hours. But you’re fine with that. As long as he gets his rest and can finally let his guard down, you would gladly lend him your lap for days on end.

“Fine.” You shift slightly to provide him more comfort. “Take as long as you need. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

He responds in the form of a grateful smile and soft squeeze to your hand. Within a matter of seconds he’s sound asleep, the steady rise and fall of his chest soothing the dull ache in your heart.

Cautiously, you raise your free hand and reach out to his peaceful expression. His hair is silkier than you last remember, easily threading your fingers through the soft strands to brush them away from obscuring his features.

‘Than I last remember’, huh…

Your eyes trail to the hand clutched in his.

Thinking back on it, it has been a while since you last relaxed like this with him. Life tends to be busy, the cafe takes up most of your time, and Jing Yuan has his official duties to take care of. No matter how lax he tries to play it off, you’re aware he has his hands full with governmental affairs and conjuring a multitude of tactics to minimise losses. That’s the kind of person he is — to badger you about the happenings in your life, yet hide away and gloss over his with a genial mask so as to not worry you.

You’ve always hated that part of him. Why can’t you worry for him? Why must it always be he who consoles you but not the other way around? Does he truly not know how his evasive tendencies pain you, intentional or not?

Questions, questions, questions; all these questions and yet there’s never a concrete answer.

Is he… really so oblivious to the way his secrecy is what spurs your distance with him?

Your hand pauses.

Perhaps steadily drawing a line between you is a pointless pursuit in clinging onto the past, a fleeting hope for everything to revert back to the way it was before; to deny the happenings of bygones which paved the way for the present.

Things will never be what they once were. You understand that. You accept that. And, perhaps, that is what makes it hurt all the more.

Four familiar faces emerge from deep within the hidden crevices of your conscience, ones you have not physically seen for a long time — too long, perhaps. And yet they appear just as vivid as before everything went up in flames, endlessly haunting you when you’re left alone with the silence of your own mind. No matter how tightly you shut your eyes in blatant refusal of their presence, nor the strength in which you cover your ears to drown out the remnants of their voices, they never leave you alone. They cling to you, desperate; the same way in which you are to be free of them.

But even so, in spite of the hostility and bitterness and hurt which remains in their wake and binds itself to their legacies, you cannot help but to wish they are doing well, wherever it is they may now be.

And maybe it’s the full moon glaring down at you which spurs this wishful thinking but, on the off-chance they return, perhaps those of you that are left can gather at the cafe after closing hours and chat about anything and everything, exciting and menial, you have come to experience in the time spent apart.

(Just like old times.)

But, of them, only Jing Yuan remains, and maybe that is why he doesn’t manifest alongside them as a result of this aching nostalgia, instead resting peacefully on your thighs with steady, even breaths; the only indication that he truly is here with you.

“We will be okay, Jing Yuan,” you find yourself whispering as you gaze down at him. “We’ve made it this far, and we’ll continue on, braving through our fate.”

The image of him blurs, his colours further contorting the more you try to blink it away. It is then you force your eyes shut, lean down towards him, lightly brush away his fringe and press two fleeting, chaste kisses: one against the skin of his forehead and the other atop the mole under his left eye. “If not for myself, then, for you, I’ll be okay.”

Whether that’s to reassure you or him… you’re not sure.

For as long as you can remember, Jing Yuan has always been with you.

It wasn’t merely a matter of staying by each other’s side during the day; no, it’s more than that. Your relationship runs deep — centuries bordering a millennia worth of memories tucked away in the crevices of your mind — and it would be an understatement to say you know each other like the back of your hand.

Together, the two of you have been through it all, in practically every sense of the word.

--

Despite enlisting into the Cloud Knights, it was far from what you wanted, instead aligning with the demands of your parents. To have that expectation of continuing your family’s tradition, to have that burden of battling for the Xianzhou Luofu’s legacy, to have that constant worry of one day being mara-struck due to your race, to perhaps never be able to do what you want for yourself, shackled to generations of family service… that was the meaning of your existence. Whether you liked it or not.

You eventually gave up, simply accepting your unwanted fate and following the hollowed footsteps carved by your ancestors. That was how you ended up amongst the new recruits for the Cloud Knights and listening to the current general’s speech about glory and honour and pride — all for the Xianzhou Alliance; all for the Xianzhou Luofu; all for the Cloud Knights.

Fate is such a weird thing, you remember thinking to yourself as your gaze swept across many others in the same uniform as you. Because despite you all looking the same, despite you all holding the same make of spear, you knew their passion and dedication to serve the alliance would far outweigh your own.

He was no exception.

Contrary to you, the boy who stood a couple rows in front wanted to be there. It was obvious in the way his eyes glimmered, the way he held himself in an upright posture and focused with rapt attention on the general at the front. Perhaps that was what caught your eye back then — the pure, unadulterated desire rolling off him had rooted you in place and forced your attention to be on him.

With a sigh you averted your gaze. There was only one thought which resonated within you in that brief moment: you would never grow close to that boy.

For, unlike you, he was made to shine under the glow of the artificial sun, while you were a passionless bystander relinquished of your fate.

--

It wasn’t long before you made a name for yourself amongst the new recruits of the Cloud Knights. It stemmed from a training session-turned-competition. One which you came out on top.

A natural prodigy is what they called you.

A lucky fluke is what they whispered behind your back.

Looking back, you’re not sure why you tried so hard. Did you think you would have it easy if you won? If anything, it probably made your future that much more troublesome with weighty expectations and watchful eyes from those around you.

Well, there went your quiet life.

At least it couldn’t be as suffocating as it would be back at home. The most you would receive are jealous glances from your weaker peers, or urges from your trainers to try a bit harder. But what reason was there to try when the outcome never changed?

“Why are you here?”

“Huh?” When you looked up, hands still gripped tight around the length of your training spear, your unimpressed eyes met pools of gold. They widened upon contact.

“Wait— that’s not what I—!” he had cut himself off with a sigh, pink dusting his cheeks. He quickly regathered himself and faced you once more. “I mean, why are you here when you clearly don’t want to be? I watched your matches earlier, but there was no light in your eyes… Kind of like now.”

Was that the expression you had? You would never know. What you did know was that the boy was persistent. Evading the topic would not work on him and, quite frankly, you were tired.

“I’m only here because of my parents,” you began. Your fists clenched and your eyes hardened as you lowered your gaze to the grass. “I hate my fate. I have no say in what I can or can’t do in my own life. That’s all there is to it.”

There was a moment of silence after your sombre words. Maybe now he would leave you alone and be on his way. Just like it should be. Someone like him who shines above the rest has no business with you, whose passion was extinguished before it could manifest.

“That’s not true.” Your gaze snapped up, words of protest ready to be let loose only for that burst of anger to dissipate the second you locked eyes. “You can escape your fate.”

“Hah! What nonsense are you—”

“Because that’s what I did.” You blinked once, twice. Your disbelief must have been obvious by the way he flushed slightly, the crimson tinge spanned from the tips of his ears to the apples of his cheeks. “I mean, my ‘fate’ was originally supposed to be a scholar or some kind of official in the Realm-Keeping Commission and follow my family’s footsteps, but look where I am now. I’m nowhere near that.” 

It was strange. He was not supposed to be someone similar to you. He was supposed to be someone you could only gaze at from afar. He burned brightly; you did not.

And yet, through his next words, you discovered that you, too, were capable of dreaming and hoping, the light suddenly appearing in what you deemed to be an abyssal darkness.

“I’m now a Cloud Knight, and I believe that you can also change your fate!”

A sense of camaraderie formed between you and the golden boy that day, an odd, tingling warmth coiled around your heart. Though an unfamiliar feeling, you found you didn’t hate it.

--

“Master asked about you today.”

“Tell her my answer is still no.”

“You don’t even know what she asked about!”

“Don’t need to.”

A sigh came from your left at your instant retorts, but that didn’t bother you. The sun was still up and you were set on soaking up as much of it as you could before Jing Yuan had to leave for his training.

It had been a couple years since you first met now, and you somehow became an inseparable pair; where one of you would be spotted, the other wouldn’t be far behind if not already there.

Well, most of the time, at least.

When Jing Yuan had caught the attention of the Sword Champion, Jingliu, he was offered a place in her team. He accepted, of course, and ever since then he began training under her guidance. As a result, those were the only times you were actively separated.

But by extension, you were somehow roped into her interest.

“So this is where you were.” You grimaced at the familiar tone, turning away as Jing Yuan scrambled beside you.

“Master…!”

“You go on ahead, Jing Yuan. There’s something I need to discuss with [Name].”

Although you hadn’t raised your head, the hesitation in Jing Yuan’s movements were clear. The silence stretched on for a long few seconds before he sighed, “I’ll meet you after I finish, [Name].”

And then he was gone, only you and the Sword Champion remained under the tree’s shade. Blades of grass swayed under the faint breeze, but that, too, came to a standstill within seconds.

“I noticed you didn’t take the oath earlier,” Jingliu said, the silence broken.

A humourless laugh escaped your lips. “I didn’t realise the Sword Champion was keeping such a close eye on me.”

“You’re hiding your talent.” You fell silent at her abrupt statement. Your fingers twitched when she continued. “I know you’re capable of more than you let on.”

What do you know? You thought to yourself as your fingers dug into the grass. You know nothing about me, so stop acting like it.

You never understood why she was so persistent. Was it because of how close you and Jing Yuan were? Had your parents somehow managed to contact and persuade her? What did she even gain from chasing after you when it was clearly a waste of her time? Why…

“Why… why can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because he worries for you.” Your body stilled at her words. You stayed silent for a moment before responding, albeit weaker than your previous tone.

“I’m fine. There’s no reason to worry about me.”

“…[Name]—”

“It’s probably best if you go. Jing Yuan’s waiting for you.” She faltered at your words, ultimately conceding.

A sigh escaped you when you noticed her fall back and prepare to head to their usual training spot. She lingered however, and cast a glance over her shoulder to regard you once more.

“You should visit our training sometime,” Jingliu uttered, her usual stern expression a touch softer than what you were used to. “It would be nice to train together, and you can spend more time with Jing Yuan. I hope you can at least consider it.” And then you could only watch as she walked away, the hues of the sunset steadily engulfing her form.

Back then you had scoffed at her words, unaware of the bond you would come to form with the members of the High-Cloud Quintet as a result of your wretched curiosity.

--

“Someone became mara-struck on the expedition.”

“What…?” A soft gasp came from your left. “Is that why only you…”

“Yeah,” you hummed. You had no courage to face your friend next to you, choosing to instead stare listlessly at your quivering hands. “It happened so quickly. One moment we were discussing tactics, the next we heard screaming. It was agonising. And then, in the blink of an eye…” you gulped, drawing in a harsh breath as your hands clenched into fists, “I killed her. I had to. I… I was the only one left from the team and she kept coming after me and I realised then I truly didn’t want to die and—!”

Your words came to an abrupt halt, smothered by an all-too familiar warmth. The beat of his heart against your ear calmed your erratic breaths, allowing you to regain some semblance of composure. Even when you could no longer hear the rapid pounding of your heart ringing through your ears you remained slumped against his chest, the fatigue weighing down your muscles.

“Jing Yuan,” you called in a hoarse tone, “am I a monster now?”

“You’re not,” came his immediate response. You couldn’t find it in you to believe him.

“But I killed someone, Jing Yuan! We were comrades in arms and I took her life!”

“The situation was out of your control and it was the only thing you could do. It was for your survival and to stop her from suffering any longer. You’re not a monster, [Name].” His voice was steady like a pillar of support, a calm sound that could make you believe all the prior happenings were a mere nightmare you’d just awoken from. His arms around you tightened and pushed you further into his familiarity. “You never could be. Never to me.”

That day was the first time you had ever cried so hard to the point you passed out, the exhaustion having finally caught up. That day you were left unaware of the tears Jing Yuan held back as he bore witness to your rare vulnerability, vision blurring and heart aching as he internally vowed to stay by your side — until he no longer physically could.

--

As you both grew older within this endless spiral of longevity, you could only watch as he became something more than a mere soldier of the Cloud Knights — as he began to be someone out of your reach and unfamiliar against a golden glow too radiant for you to perceive.

It wasn’t long after that you left the Cloud Knights for a placement in a newly opened cafe, having had enough of a life out of your control and dictated by others. You had stayed with the Cloud Knights long enough and you finally found the courage to leave after your numerous contributions.

And while your family may not have been pleased with your decision, Jing Yuan had been supportive, taking it upon himself to visit you when he could despite his limited free time in-between training and expeditions. The other four of the High-Cloud Quintet would tag along as well, sometimes relaying entertaining stories to embarrass the others or to simply catch up with you during your time apart as you readily prepared food and drinks for the six of you to enjoy.

It felt like a dream to still be able to laugh with them.

Unfortunately, all dreams must come to an end. It was a notion that was so glaringly obvious, and yet it never truly occurred to you; not when their visits gradually became less frequent. Not when you began to notice the tension between a couple of your friends. Not when a familiar cold lingered during the moments where all was silent and you were alone.

It was through those moments you foolishly clung to the fraying hope that everything would turn out okay — that all the budding tension would smooth itself out, allowing for you to all converse like it never happened and to move past the hurdle.

Perhaps it was because you had deluded yourself into believing everything would be okay that, the moment your fantasy shattered before your very eyes, it hit you in a way far more torturous than death could ever hope to be.

It hit you in the form of Jing Yuan returning to you on that fateful day in his lonesome, eyes hollow and empty, body battered and bruised; your heart which beat for him shattered when he slumped against you, your world crashing in pursuit. The after-effects of the sobs wracking his battle-worn being reverberated through your slack form, a seemingly endless stream of tears stung the skin along the crook of your neck as he released his unfiltered anguish within your trembling embrace.

You found there was no need to ask how the confrontation with Jingliu went, for his desperate grip and hitched breaths spoke louder than his voice ever could.

At that moment, you believed there was nothing more painful than the sound of his broken cries — your mind, body and soul yearning to take his pain and make it your own at the sheer despair in his eyes as he seeked your comfort. In that moment, you had never felt so powerless, so utterly weak and useless when all you could do in the face of his agony was lend him your familiarity in the confines of the closed cafe.

Even now, seven hundred years later, you still do not believe there to be anything more painful.

During your quiet moments, you’ve always wondered what it would be like to experience some of the scenes penned in countless novels you’ve read. Would they be just as heart-throbbing as the authors depict them to be? Or would they fall flat and lacklustre when put into a real-world scenario?

What about the stories you’ve overheard during your shifts, or the tales the regulars recounted during the slow days? Would they ever happen to you as well? You’ve always wondered about these things, however…

Just what is this situation?? Isn’t it a bit too similar to that one scene in a novel you recently read? Well, it’s not as if you’re hiding away in the middle of an apocalypse, but the setting of an empty cafe after dark where it is just the two of you still remains the same.

Jing Yuan stands before you, his imposing silhouette prominent against the fragmented brushes of moonlight, pools of molten gold stark against the night’s backdrop. He remains still in the face of your racing thoughts.

The pelting rain (courtesy of the alliance’s artificial weather) drowns your thoughts. In all honesty, you can’t recall how you came to be in this situation. One moment you were closing up the cafe, the next a sudden downpour arrived alongside a drenched general. In your haste to bring him inside, you didn’t stop to think about why he was in the rain in the first place, the only objective in your mind being to dry him as soon as possible.

And so that’s what you did. Only, in your attempt to persuade the man to share an umbrella and walk back home, you were pulled back into him, the umbrella rolling helplessly across the floor as he rooted you in place by the presence of his hands on your shoulders.

Which leads you to your current predicament now.

“What is it?” you ask upon noticing his silence. There is hesitation in his silence. It prolongs in the way a void is endless, stretching on for miles upon miles with no end in sight. There’s a flicker of light in the form of his voice as he brings himself to speak, his words firm yet lacking that usual self-assured intonation he always has.

“Am I someone close to you? No, do you consider me as someone close to you?”

“What nonsense are you…” your words die out when you fail to see his usual air of playfulness, a grave countenance piercing you in its stead. “Of course I consider you as someone close to me. I wouldn’t have spent centuries upon centuries by your side otherwise.” He doesn’t seem to take your light jest well, if his darkening expression has anything to say about it.

“Then why are you still formal with me, even when in private and away from prying eyes?”

“Because you’re one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals, while I am a cafe employee. In a realistic perspective, we are not the same and I’m aware of our boundaries. In fact,” you mumble, meeting his conflicted gaze with a blank one, “I should be the one asking you if I’m someone close to you.”

It’s silent for a brief moment, up until a whispered murmur of “And just who is the one speaking nonsense now?” shatters it.

Your patience, too, shatters alongside it.

“Then what else am I supposed to think when you’re always keeping things from me? You’re always asking about what I’ve done in the day and prying into the details of my life, but what about you? Whenever I ask how things are, or if there’s anything troubling you, you just brush it off like it’s nothing and avoid answering altogether! Am I not allowed to worry about you? Am I not someone who can lend you a shoulder?

You always blabbered about sharing each other’s pain, to not keep our hardships to ourselves, but take a look at yourself first. ‘Am I someone close to you?’ ‘Do you consider me as someone close to you?’ You have no right to ask me those questions when it’s you who's been the one keeping their distance this whole time. What…” A shuddering breath escapes you, your mouth running dry amidst your high emotions. There’s a dull pain which spreads through your bottom lip, your teeth digging into the soft flesh just as your nails do in your palms. Your eyes squeeze shut, and you can only hope it's enough to prevent the well of tears building behind your lids. “What else am I supposed to do if you refuse to let me in?”

You’re tired, you come to realise. Tired of his avoidance and tired of his secrecy. Even if you don’t have the energy to voice your other built-up sentiments, you have an inkling he already knows — whether or not he wants to admit it… well, that’s a problem for him, not for you.

The sigh you release is heavy; heavy with emotion and fatigue.

Your gaze drifts to the window behind the silent man. Despite the ripples in the puddles, the previous downpour has begun to let up, now only a faint pitter patter is all that remains. Seeing how Jing Yuan has made no effort to move or speak, you decide it would be best to leave as soon as possible. After all, there is no fight left in you, only a frail shell hollowed by your insecurities.

When you try to move, however, his grip tightens. You’re pulled closer than you were just a moment ago and his fingers dig into the fabric of your clothing — as though he were desperate to keep you in his sights. Your protests die before they can even arise, for the way his eyes glimmer despite there being no light renders you immobile.

“Do you really not see?” His voice comes in the form of a broken whisper, and you try to suppress the suffocating ache in your heart when he gazes at you as though he witnessed you pluck the stars and hand it to him.

“See what?” you scoff, a weak sound that pales against the hammering of your pulse. “All I see is a coward running away from his problems.”

A cold silence. A trembling grip. A shuddering breath.

“You’re right. I am a coward.” You’re taken aback by his ready agreement, though you’re unable to dwell on it for long when his voice gradually begins to rise, his emotions spilling over in pursuit. “I run from problems I cannot handle. I avoid anything that can be deemed as troublesome. I fear that if I burden you with my pain — with my hardships — you will grow tired of me and leave. You’re already so far away, you’ve always been so far from my reach, and yet…” A strained gulp follows his dying words. “And yet if even your fading silhouette is something I can no longer see, then I don’t know what I will do with myself.”

There’s a plethora of things you want to say, but none can be articulated. No matter how much you try and force the words out, nothing is uttered. Just as you think the words will string together, he laughs, humourless and empty.

“You’re right. I have no right to ask you when I’m the one pushing you away — when I’m the one causing this rift between us. But what else must I do to stay by your side, if not this? Where else can I reach you, if not shadowed by your light? You’re the last person I want to lose, [Name], so please,” his voice trembles ever so slightly, a detail that would go unheard if it were not for the fact it is just the two of you, a desolate silence, and frail streaks of moonlight, “don’t go to some place I can’t find you.” 

His chest heaves in tandem with his shuddering breaths, the only sound which punctures the still air. You’re not sure which is louder: that, or the white noise ringing amidst your senses. There is no room for thought, however, as you barely take note of your lips parting and the words which leave them.

“You… make me feel like a fool the longer I stay with you.” Your words are not loud, nor are they particularly harsh. But with the current atmosphere being so tense, you may as well have shouted them from the bottom of your heart with the way the echo ricochets within the empty cafe.

Even if your words are not loud, the silence most definitely is; deafeningly so.

After your… confession, for a lack of better words, belatedly registers in your conscience, you have half a mind to slap yourself silly. After all, who in their right mind responds to such an emotional, heartfelt barrage with… that.

You, it would seem.

(A petty part of you deems it fine considering the inner turmoil he’s put you through for Aeons knows how long.)

“Do you want to know something?” he asks, leaving you with no time to linger on your life choices. “When I’m with you, I feel like a fool as well.” Your surprise must have been obvious as he chuckles lightly with a gaze never straying from you. There’s a subtle shift in the atmosphere, one which lightens your heart without dismissing the emotions woven into the space between you. Before you can even think up a response, he continues. “Even if I rehearse what I plan to say to you, it rarely comes out the way I want. Sometimes the words don’t even come out at all. It’s always been this way, even before we became acquainted with each other.”

You blink at his words, stupefied. “You mean back when we were first enlisted into the Cloud Knights?” His sheepish chuckle is answer enough. “Wait— you mean— since all the way back then— huh??”

“Yeah,” he responds, voice light and teeming with unbridled affection, “since the moment I saw you in the welcome ceremony.”

????? Since then?! All you can remember is not wanting anything to do with him back then! To think you never noticed anything until he said it now, though technically it’s not entirely your fault since he never explicitly said anything… right?

Yeah, no it’s both your faults.

“I’m sorry to not have noticed anything till now,” you sigh, your head drooping. “Is there anything I can do to make up for it?”

(Jing Yuan just barely manages to control himself from kissing you senseless right then and there. Who gave you the right to be so adorable?? Not him, but you won’t catch him complaining.)

“Anything, you say?” he asks after a cough or two. Your eyes narrow at his behaviour before shrugging it off.

“Well, within reason…” you trail off at his pointed look, your mouth instantly shutting at his expression akin to — dare you say — puppy-dog eyes. It’s oddly cute, though you’ve always found his sleepy, cat-like demeanour to be the most endearing and heart-melting of all. (Not that you would ever admit this to him, of course. Well, not when he’s awake, at least.) And so, unsurprisingly, you relent. “Okay. Anything.”

“Then don’t be formal and act distant in public. Just call me ‘Jing Yuan’ familiarly like you used to.”

You blink once, twice. “...That’s it?”

“Well,” he drawls, “considering how you only addressed me as ‘General’ or ‘General Jing Yuan’, which was admittedly closer to my preference, despite being one of the few who were well aware I never wanted to be a general in the first place, I believe it’s the least you can do to show your sincerity.”

You scoff. “You sure know how to hold a grudge, foolish Jing Yuan.”

And he laughs, a breathy melody which sets your heart ablaze. Then you feel his fingers thread through yours, the faint callouses brushing against the back of your hand a testament to his battle prowess.

His lashes flutter shut as your hand is brought up towards his lips. Just as the plush of his lips grazes against your palm, his head dips, instead planting a soft kiss along the pulse point of your inner wrist. There’s a huff of laughter against your warmed skin, and you’re positive it’s because he found amusement in the way your pulse surged and stuttered under his lips.

Smug bastard.

His lashes flutter once more when they open into a half-lidded gaze, your wrist growing ticklish as his lips begin to move against your skin as he murmurs out, “I suppose that makes two of us, my foolish [Name].” When he turns to stare at you completely, his expression is nothing short of soft — eyes filled to the brim and overflowing with tender adoration doused in liquid gold and a warm, gentle curve of a smile that has you clammed up and breathless.

“Yeah,” you mumble after regaining some semblance of composure, unable to stop the smile which blooms on your lips, “I suppose it does.”

if you enjoyed this, then reblogs with/or comments are greatly appreciated !! <33

[arc-misadventures]

The Noblesse Oblige of Humanity

A young boy was laughing as he played in the field, his smile radiated pure innocence as he basked in the suns golden warmth. His golden locks of hair meshed with a the vibrant green hues of the grass he rolled around in. His laugh only heightened in its intensity, and euphoria as a large hand came down, and tussled his hair.

The boy reached up his hands as his father hoisted him in the air, throwing him at he reached the zenith. A flit of laughter escaped the child's lips as he sored the the air like a bird freed from gravity's hindering restraints.

His father caught him with a hearty laugh as he embraced his son who's emerald eyes shined with unrestrained glee as the boys father, and mother took the child away. As they left the playground his helmets optics zoomed out to see a similar occurrences happening throughout the playground.

Children basking in the warm embrace of a family who loved them unconditionally.

He zoomed out further with his helmet until the idealist visage of a happy family life was no more then blobs of movement upon his horizon, Jaune Ara, B Class, Spartan couldn't help, but wonder the idealistic thought that all Spartans had: If he wasn't born with, Aura would he have been just as happy as that child?

Aura, Spartans, and their Noblesse Oblige towards Humanity: A potent cocktail that started from one step onwards towards the next step. A cocktail that held the key to mans salivation, or if it failed, towards it's inevitable extinction.

It all started with, Aura; It possessed a near limitless potential to all humans, and faunas alike to fight the never ending tide of darkness that besieged all those in their way: The Grimm.

Aura the raw embodiment of the soul, a rare power that every human, and faunas had the potential to unlock, and wield against the forces of darkness. However, only one child born of amongst a thousand other souls had the potential to unlock such a power. Because of the rarity of, Aura, and potential lethality of the Grimm's threat to humanity each , and every child that was born was tested for having, Aura of any level. And, if they unlocked this rare gift of, Aura they were immediately taken away to be trained as, Spartans.

It was seen as a great honour by many to have birthed a child capable of wielding, Aura. But, many mothers saw it as a terrible burden to be placed upon their dear children that often brought many to tears. How else could any mother react to the news that their child would be taken away from them at birth to be raised as child soldiers to fight in an unending war? Children taken from their mothers with scarcely nothing, but a name.

That is what happened to the boy named, Jaune Arc; He was born seventeen years ago to a family of a loving mother, and father, and their seven daughters. But, when he was tested for, Aura he proved to be positive, and carried the burden of having an immense, Aura. So, shortly after his birth he was taken away to be trained, given nothing, but a tearful goodbye, and the first, and last loving embrace of a mother who did not want her child to leave so soon.

That is at least how, Jaune liked to imagine his departure from his parents went. He knew of his family, and their existence, but the plight of becoming a, Spartan made him warry to meet them in the flesh. It was common of those born with, Aura, and trained to be warriors from birth to have a hard time relating, and associating to the common people.

It was agreed long ago by the four kingdoms of, Remnant that the children born with aura should be raised within the tight confines of a specialized learning institution: A Spartan Academy.

Each academy had its own name, and customs that it ingrained in its students. But, there training was all the same: The first few years they were trained on academics, and improving their physical abilities. Then they were taught hand-to-hand combat, the use of a verity of firearms. Each lesson only growing more, and more in its complexity as they grew up up. Their training was once compared to that of an ancient civilization, long lost to the sands of time. A city of warriors that took their young men to be trained as warriors to fight in their wars, these ancient warriors were once called, Spartans. A name that stuck to the, Aura empowered warriors of Remnant.

At the age of twelve most members of a, Spartan Academy started their own personal specialization training. Learning how to master the use of various weapons that best suited to their individuals fighting style, and taste. But sometimes, in a rare few occasions these fighting styles were impacted by something wholly unexpected.

A birthday present.

Jaune Arc remembered his twelfth birthday with crystal clear clarity. He had expected it to be just like any of his other birthdays, one of those rare days off from their rigorous training where he, and his classmates would get to enjoy in a cake. But, this time was different, this time, Jaune had a birthday present.

It was a large white boxed tied with golden ribbons, with a note attached to it. He remembered nervously reaching for the note, and reading it, scared at the possibilities of what laid within it. As he read the letter contents, tears of joy dropped from his eyes. Within it he read a letter from his mother, a woman named, Juniper Arc, telling how she was sad that her lovely baby boy was taken away from her at birth, but she was proud that he would become a warrior of legend that would carry on his great, great grandfathers legacy as a, Spartan. She wrote how she prayed that this gift would serve, and protect him, and others in the future. At the bottom was a list of names; one from his father, another from sisters each written in their own unique way, before reading the last name on the list, a name that was bore deep into his heart as he read the name: 'Love, your mother, Juniper Arc.'

Spartans were trained to suppress their emotions as a means to combat the, Grimm who fed upon their raw negative emotions. Often leading to many, Spartans to become so far detached from normal human emotions that they couldn't understand, nor comprehend them. But, for the first time in, Jaune Arc's life he felt that emotionless mask break, and fall into pieces, and the human boy that long for his mother finally appear. A memory he often fled to when the darkest of times came before him.

Within the box rested a sword of golden hues, bound with blue leather, encased within a sheath of white metal. Jaune slowly pulled out the silver blade, and marveled in it's simplistic elegance. It was a greater shock when he picked up the sheath, and it deployed into a heater shield. Upon it, lay in a field of snow were a pair of golden arch's. When, Jaune asked his instructors what these symbols meant he was told it was his families emblem, that these colours represented his family, and their legacy.

Years had past since then, and despite the fact these old weapons had been improved upon, and made better, Jaune Arc wore it, and his families colours, and emblem proudly upon his armour.

For he was, Jaune Arc, B Class, Spartan, and he would live up to his family legacy, and become a warrior of renown as he fought to save humanity of the scourge that was the, Grimm.

For he was a , Spartan; They were the bastion of humanity against the growing darkness of the, Grimm. It was his, and every, Spartan that ever lived noblesse oblige to fight, and die for the betterment of all of humanity.

A life of a happy little child embraced by their loving parents.

Wasn't that something worth dying for?

///

Okay, this based on an story, based on an idea made by @evenmorefatallyobsessed. Here's a LINK to the post.

This was how I thought to play out this idea. I'll add more to it later on. I've got a few more ideas I want to write out.

Till later then.

[boundinparchment]

Kinetic Harvest

“I ain’t got the money. Not now. But with your…assistance, I can make it worth your while. Consider me a lifetime customer.”

You put the bullet back on your desk, a peace offering. He took it back and tucked it away, gun still trained on you.

“I don’t work on those who threaten me.”

Boothill/Gender Neutral Reader oneshot. Can be read as a pairing or not. Dottore reference if you squint. Not beta read.

Leaks used as a base, read at your own discretion. On AO3 here.

Reblogs are appreciated.

Desperation drove most to your doorstep, trembling as their bellies stoked fires so strong they made suns pale in comparison. Their eyes darted, assessing the clean office and workshop, as if they were wondering the validity of the rumors. A back-alley mechanic who took the money of criminals, crooks, and high society alike had to certainly have signs of that wealth. Or perhaps they thought morality was tied to cleanliness.

You cared not.

And they only cared whether you could fix their problem.

It made for a very convenient workflow.

But the man who sat before you was a deviation from that norm. He was surefooted, a little curious in the way his head turned to gaze about the darkened space. His eyes lingered not on you but on the prosthetic arm you kept behind your desk, the finger joints extended and the gun attachment on the wrist popped out, unloaded.

Never gave his name but you liked his drawl. You’d heard it from folks in a distant system. Aeragan-Epharshel was an ancient land, home to a language as old as the green plains and permafrosted mountains and dusty canyons; you were certain your mentor would have loved it there. So much to explore and learn from those who came before.

The stranger told you a story of a boy who grew up taming horses and identifying plants. Caring for everything around him. Isolated though the planet was, it was not without a law of entropy and a reciprocity that few ever even knew existed anymore. Of a child whose smile lit up a room like the sun itself.

There wasn’t an ounce of hesitation in his eyes when he stood a bullet up on your desk. In the glint of the lamplight, you caught three letters: IPC.

The one party you never took funding or clients from. The Interstellar Peace Corporation was, quite ironically, stood for the exact opposite, in your opinion.

“You specialize in cybernetics,” the man tilted his head as he leaned back in his seat. The wood squeaked. “And rumor has it, you go beyond the usual…modifications. I ain’t done in this universe ‘til that bullet is buried in the skull of the leech that sucks planets dry.”

His words were pinched tight by this teeth, jaw on edge. This man, this stranger off the streets, knew what he wanted and you wondered how many others in your profession turned him away. Plenty would. There was a liability in taking the human form too far, both ethically and bureaucratically. Too much red tape, too much diffusing of pre-conceived notions.

No wonder your mentor chose the path of eternal funding and embraced his legacy.

“Before you tell me, ‘No’,” the man drawled. “Know that I have endured harsher summers and brutal winters than most o’ your so-called patients, doc. I can handle what needs to be done.”

“I don’t doubt that,” you replied, fingers reaching for the bullet and holding it up to the light.

Those who were so glued to their convictions made for difficult clients, though. They were stubborn.

Worse, really, you reminded yourself as you looked up and noticed the barrel of a gun staring back at you. No one would stand between a hunter and his prey.

“I ain’t got the money. Not now. But with your…assistance, I can make it worth your while. Consider me a lifetime customer.”

You put the bullet back on your desk, a peace offering. He took it back and tucked it away, gun still trained on you.

“I don’t work on those who threaten me.”

A second, and then two, before he clicked his teeth and holstered the weapon. He gestured with open hands to demonstrate he was unarmed and then folded them in his lap.

“You’ll have a difficult road ahead,” you advised. “Years of assembly.“

“A full cybernetic body that preserves my noggin and my perfect eyesight is hardly unreasonable. It’s been done. Everyone knows you studied hidden away from the Aeons, under the Heretic. He’s dead, o’ course, but if I were a gamblin’ man…”

“You don’t strike me the type.”

“I ain’t,” the words came out strained, frustrated with a huff of breath. “A waste o’ money and time. Frivolous. All I’m sayin’ is…if I wanted the easy way out, I wouldn’t be here. I know what I’m signin’ up for.”

Your eyes traced his haggard face, white hair with tinges of black that had seen better days, a muscular frame trimmed a little too lean in places due to malnutrition. A hat more pristine than his dusty pants.

“Lay down over on the table,” you jerked your head in the direction of the vivisection table off to the side of your workshop. “We’ll start with your measurements.”

The man let out a slow exhale, one you didn’t dare attribute to relief. He rose with a steadiness you recognized only in those who trusted in their abilities and convictions, who would succeed not just through skill but by the cognitive bias that they embraced with every fiber of their being.

“Just promise me one thing, cowboy,” you said, collecting a tablet from your desk.

He turned, weight shifted to cock his hip impatiently.

“I don’t want your money. But when we’re done, you’ll tell me your name. I want to know what to call the one who succeeds in gutting the IPC.”

He smiled, crooked and charming, and you wondered if you ever saw eyes sparkle like that in this office before.

“It’s a deal, doc.”

[exculpateinteractivefiction]

"All suffering originates from craving, from attachment, from desire." - Edgar Allan Poe

Exculpate: The Fall from Grace is an upcoming 18+ action packed and fantastical interactive fiction novel. Loosely inspired by media like “My Hero Academia”, “Bungou Stray Dogs”, “Jujutsu Kaisen”, “The X-Men” and “Titans”.

Tags: [Urban Fantasy/Sci-Fi, Romance, Drama, LGBTQIA+, Textbased]

The Astra. In the years after the war it was a name that had grown familiar. A select group of individuals who had gained special abilities after the…incident. They are powerful. They are talented. They are gifted.

And you’re one of them.

Or at least you were around a decade ago. Before you made the mistake.  The type of colossal fuck up that blows up your apparently  flimsy life in a matter of minutes. The kind that has you running away and starting completely over. That kind.

Now instead of using your worthless ability to save people, you are stuck using it for much more…aggressive work. More effective work. Or at the very least work that pays better. The only cost seems to be your sorry excuse for morals. Trading your soul and sense of justice for a paycheck. What could go wrong?

It was manageable. Meaningful even. Something that gave purpose to the now shattered pieces of your life.

Everything was great.

...until you got a hit for the strongest hero in existence. Wonderful.

Play a former hero turned assassin turned…“hero” but not really .

Customize your character’s name, appearance, personality, and gender identity.

Develop a better understanding of your dreadful ability.

Explore and navigate complex relationships with six unique romantic options.

Kill your former best friend and betray old allies and new ones alike!

Come face to face with your past (both the choices you’ve made and the people in it).

Repent for your mistakes…or continue making them.

The Hero (Your Target): Maverick “Mav” Kingston (He/Him)

Maverick Kingston, your current target and the strongest member of Astra. The strongest, period. He is unstoppable - unreachable - unattainable. You would know as his (former) best friend.

Appearance: Maverick is the embodiment of “perfection” and that crosses over into his looks. He is roughly 6’1” and is quite lean. He has vibrant light blue eyes and a head of messy blonde hair that seems to always fall perfectly into place.

Personality: Maverick’s greatest flaw is undeniably his personality. To put it bluntly, he’s the best and he knows it. He manages to come across as nonchalant and egotistical on a good day - often just messing around or teasing both his enemies and coworkers alike, and while he can be quite charismatic, his laidback and annoying disposition tends to steer most people away. Although, you get the feeling that there seems to be something deeper lying beneath the surface even after all these years…

The Strategist: Carmen Reyes (She/Her)

Carmen Reyes, lead strategist of the Astra and to put it bluntly the only one with any common sense. She is an intimidating presence - although that might just be due to her title of the best hand to hand combatant of the Astra. You used to be co-workers and classmates but that was a long time ago.

Appearance: Carmen’s beauty is just another thing that adds to her imposing nature. She is roughly 5’11” and has spent years building up her muscular physique. She has curly dark brown hair that rests just below her chin and surprisingly sharp hazel eyes that seem to track your every move…

Personality: Carmen can be considered reserved and wise at best and completely distant at worst. She has a professional air to her that most officials and authority respect, but it can come across as aloof or boring especially when comparing her to the loud personalities that the rest of the Astra has. That’s not to say she is uncaring though - in fact she is arguably the most moral of the group - or at least she was back when you were a member…

The Heart: Silas Jones (He/Him)

Silas Jones, arguably the kindest member of the Astra. He’s excitable and naive - if not a bit endearing. He tends to act as the mediator between the public and the other members of the Astra when necessary. You don’t remember being particularly close with him back when you were in the Astra so it’s surprising how desperately he seems to want your attention now…

Appearance: Silas is roughly 5’8” and has dark brown skin with glowing silver marks scattered across his body. He has black locs that have been dyed red at the tips and dark brown eyes that seem to pull you in wherever you go…

Personality: Silas is easily the nicest of the group and can be quite soothing especially compared to the harsher personalities of the other members and higher ups of the Astra. He is incredibly open and energetic, if not a bit naive. He cares very deeply for the people around him and that clearly extends to you even after all these years. It does make you wonder why he is so interested though…

The Healer: Juno Aceso (She/Her)

Juno Aceso, head of the healing and medical department at Astra. She isn’t what most people expect when they hear the words “doctor” but she is a breath of fresh air compared to the rest of the group. You were close with her back when you were in the Astra…or at least as close as you can be with someone like her.

Appearance: Juno is roughly 5’5”. She has deathly pale skin and dark eyebags that frame her murky green eyes. Her straight chestnut colored hair lands right at her chest, though she usually keeps it up in a bun.

Personality: If Carmen is distant and Maverick is nonchalant then Juno is on a whole other level. She is practically apathetic with her laidback nature and tends to be quite removed from everyone else. That’s not to say she has no personality though. She can be incredibly snarky and sarcastic when she wants to be. Unsurprisingly, she seems the least invested in your return. Although you get an odd feeling whenever she glances your way…

The Star: Payton Monroe (They/Them)

Payton Monroe is nothing if not a star. They embrace the celebrity status that comes with being a member of the Astra with open arms. You weren’t particularly close with them back when you were in the Astra but you heard the rumors of their exploits…

Appearance: Payton is roughly 5’7” and seems to make it their life’s goal to make themself as appealing as possible. They have ivory colored skin and dazzling lavender eyes. Their hair is shoulder length and white with streaks of pink going through it.

Personality: Payton is someone who has no issue embracing the finer things in life. They are far more interested in the public image aspect of being a member of the Astra and that comes across in nearly every interaction. While they are quite flirtatious, they seem to hold no interest in pursuing an actual relationship. Maybe you’ll be the one to change that…

The Newbie: Amari Gray (Gender Selectable)

Amari Gray, the newest member of the Astra. Not much is known about them - they joined after you left and they don’t seem exactly interested in getting to know you. They tend to be annoyed with you more often than not but you get the feeling that they are that way with most people. Although, their constant avoidance towards you specifically is quite odd…

Appearance: Amari is roughly 5’3”. They have tan skin and sharp gray eyes that seem to be set in a perpetual glare. They have thick white hair that is currently styled as a short undercut. They have a few piercings and tattoos.

Personality: You don’t know much about Amari but one thing you do know is that they don’t like you. They are either actively avoiding you or are going out of their way to pick fights with you. They seem incredibly familiar which makes their determination on making your life miserable even weirder…

DEMO TBA

[starcrossed-sky]

Hey Twitter(/Reddit) alternative seekers

Okay, fandom. Everyone's all worked all the time about this or that new alternative to Twitter and how it's either awesome or it sucks. I'm here to tell you about an OLD alternative: Plurk.

(Note that this was originally formatted for Twitter so forgive the jank thread paragraphing)

Disclaimer: This information is specifically aimed at people who use Twitter for fandom purposes; it is not intended to cover the exhaustive list of things that people use Twitter for (professional networking, art/photography promotion world news, etc). It's friend-centric rather than follow-centric, at least as the existing site culture goes.

So what is Plurk? It's a threaded microblogging platform dating back to 2008 that has only ever seen extremely niche use in English-language use. (Its primary userbase is Chinese-speaking.) It has a purely chronological timeline and a lot of privacy features that you haven't seen since the LJ era (assuming you're old enough to remember that).

Plurk functions through an exclusively-chronological timeline on your homepage (desktop) or in the app. Algorithmically sourced content? We ain't got it! (There is a different page for viewing top content but you have to go there specifically.) Instead, your timeline shows your own content and the content of other plurkers you friend or follow, and the occasional ad (MUCH more occasional than Twitter).

Each top-level plurk can be replied to, and this creates a chain of replies that can be used for conversation. Unlike Twitter and Reddit, replies don't form branching threads; each plurk is only one stream of conversation. Plurks with unread replies will be lit up as unread; however, they can be "muted" to stop them from giving you notifications.

(Two small caveats: You cannot mute your own plurks, and there is actually a cap of around 200 muted plurks. Mutes will fall off from the oldest, so you'll sometimes see an ancient plurk pop back up on your timeline if someone comes back to it. You can just mute it again.)

Your plurk timeline has a global privacy control. If your timeline is set to private, only people you have friended can see what you say on there. If your timeline is public, then anyone who comes to you page can see what you've posted, AND logged-in users can share your post on their own timeline with the "replurk" function (works just like a normal retweet), as well as reply to it.

There is also an "anonymous" option, which anonymizes you and also the names of everyone who replies (it randomly generates names like "lemon354" and "libra262" for repliers to differentiate them). Anonymous plurks will stay within your timeline if your plurk is set to private, but can be replurked if it's public.

BUT WAIT, THERE'S MORE, because individual plurks can also be given specific privacy levels: -> Friends only (if your timeline is public but you don't want this one getting around) -> Private to "cliques," which are Twitter circles but you can have more than one -> Individual users (including those not on your friends list - this is plurk's equivalent of DMs)

Your own plurk homepage is also insanely customizable, if you want to break out the CSS or even just have a custom background. You can also alter your display name (though the character cap is VERY short), and your display name color, as well as the standard avatar change. Usernames cannot be changed as a free user, but can be changed by paid users (more on paid options in a second).

Plurk also has its own image hosting, and a pastebin-alike plaintext called Plurk Paste that has no character limit. (The character limit for top-level plurks is longer than Twitter's.)

It also has CUSTOM EMOTES in addition to its (somewhat wild) default selection. They're similar to Discord's customs, except that you can use GIFs from the get go; what's restricted is the number of slots you have as a free user. (And size is capped at 48x48 px.)

Plurk has ads, but they're mostly unobtrusive (and can be clocked entirely with ad blockers, but I didn't say that). Plurk keeps the lights on through a subscription model called Plurk Coin, which is very cheap (under $2.50 USD/month) and can be gifted to other users. Coin gives you a number of benefits including the "Except" privacy option, more username colors, response editing, and a bunch more custom emote slots.

Concerned about harassment? Plurk has one of the most robust blocking systems in social media that I've ever seen. You block someone, and they can't see you (even by going to your profile) and you can't see them. That's it, done. Full no-contact.

NSFW/18+ content is allowed. There's a specific flag for it when you first post a plurk. Plurk does expect you to use that tag when appropriate, but is otherwise very forgiving of NSFW content, at least in my experience. (Again, though, English plurk is a very small community ATM).

The thing to remember about Plurk is that it is very much a remnant of an older internet, from the days before algorithms. Like Tumblr, it's a social media where you won't see anything if you don't reach out to follow and friend people. It predates "going viral" as a goal of internet usage. The goal is to talk to people.

As an aside: Since I originally wrote this up, I've seen rumors about Japanese fanartists moving to plurk and even seen one or two mentions of it in the wild on my Twitter timeline as people talk about following those artists. Fantastic! If that's you, then I hope you find this slightly more in-depth guide to features helpful.

If this sounds up your alley, I've made a public plurk specifically for Twitter refugees to come meet people and get more information on how plurk works! You can find it here.

Twitter version: [link]

Please replurk to spread this information about!

EDIT Sept 7 2024: You can mute your own plurks now, whoo!

[forgeofthenine]

Hi everyone, this is the surprise I've been working on! It's actually a collaboration with the lovely @swordcreature where we gave the other person a soulmate AU and a character to write a vaguely 1,000 word fanfic on. My prompt was 'you see visions of your soulmates life through your dreams' with my forge hubby Dammon. If you'd like to see what prompt I gave (for a different tiefling bachelor 👀) then you should go check out Worms blog ;)

Overall this collab has been so much fun, we've had a great time chatting behind the scenes with me teaching a little local slang and I hope you guys enjoy reading what's resulted from our shared love of soulmate AUs! Thank you so much for working on this with me Courtney, and I hope everyone enjoys!!

Of blacksmiths and thimbles (soulmate AU)

The dreams had always been there. Your Mother assured you they were normal, good even, that you should enjoy them. Every night you stepped into the world of someone else, someone with red-orange hands that reached up towards their own Mother. Those hands belonged to your soulmate. You watched each night as they grew up alongside you, playing with similar wooden toys, eating strange food, living somewhere that wasn't Baldurs Gate. Soon however, you learned to stop telling people of your dreams, unsure why so many people had to force smiles when you'd talk about what you knew of your soulmate.

It was when you turned ten that the dreams changed. Your own life had altered significantly, and you knew your soulmate would be seeing you learn to tailor, watch as your pinpricked hands hemmed pretty skirts and dresses. After work, every night, you'd watch him learn to forge. You could almost feel the heat of the fires glow on your skin, overwhelmed by the clang and clatter of the men hammering out metal platters and ploughshares. You knew nothing of your fated love than his hands and his skill in craftsmanship. Though, this wasn't the last time your dreams would change.

Soon you'd have nightmares each night, watching as an entire city was dragged down to the hells below you. Soon the lovely hands you grew to admire switched from crafting farming implements to weaponry. The forges grew larger, hotter, much more fierce. As you grew in your own craft, moving from hemming to pattern making to custom fitting boned bodices in silk dresses, you watched your soulmates life fall apart each and every night. Needles found your skin despite your thimble, your eyelids drooping while working, so tired from worry for a man you've never actually met.

It was then that you learned his name. Dammon. The tiefling you were destined for, stuck in Elturel. You heard the name called across the hectic forge, hands stopping their work as the man looks towards the call, your own dream ending right afterwards. It's no surprise you grasp at any news of Elturel that makes it's way into the Gates Mouth Gazette, much to the growing curiosity of your fellow tailors.

You watched on as he was cast from his home, joining a group of others who all found themselves driven from the only city they'd ever known. By day you were an up and coming tailor, by night you watched tiefling refugees try desperately to survive. It was months of near torture, and you were sure this Dammon thought you overly privileged, living in your parents home and sewing pretty dresses for a pay cheque. A vast difference from his own existence.

Slowly, he makes his way closer to Baldurs Gate. Closer to you. By now watching his escapades was a nightly adventure, but your work called each and every day. Clients of renown, endless comissions and repairs, the replacement of even your most trusty tools. It only took you losing your thimble, the small tool nowhere to be seen, encouraging you to venture to a blacksmith.

Blacksmiths in Baldurs Gate were bleak, rude, or downright incompetent. You trudged through the crowded streets, dodging refugees and steel watchers alike, before stumbling on a new blacksmith's forge. It was a gorgeous open air shop, with a large clear sign. 'The Forge of the Nine'. Worth a shot, you decided while climbing the cracked stone staircase.

Honing a blade on the whetstone was a tiefling, somewhat tall and very broad, his skin an oddly familiar red-orange. Small stones grind under your feet as you see the blacksmith perk up, ears lifting and a smile on his handsome face. "Oh, just a minute!" He calls out, voice soothing as he places the sword off on a random bench. Hands pat over his apron, wiping off any residue as he walks over to you. "Welcome to the Forge of the Nine, what can I do for you? A dagger, maybe? Or a bow?"

You let out a chuckle at his assumptions, it seems you've found another forge that can't meet your needs. If only you could find your soulmate, a proper blacksmith on demand would be so very useful. "Nothing quite so aggressive. I need a new thimble actually, for tailoring?" You ask, wondering if he'll be like the last blacksmith who made one almost the size of a cup by mistake. It seems you don't need to worry however, as his eyes light up in recognition and his smile relaxes into an easy grin.

"A tailor?" He questions, motioning for you to follow him further into his forge. "Interesting... Well, you have nothing to worry about, I have a few thimbles here I've already made." His voice picks up at the end, body turned away from you as he pulls out a small, ornamental box that rattles with thimbles and stacks of finely crafted sewing needles. "Pick what you'd like."

You peer at the shining metal, delicately picking up a gleaming thimble, the loveliest one you've ever seen from a blacksmith. "It seems odd, to have a stack of such nice sewing supplies premade. Most blacksmiths hardly know a thimble from a goblet.“ You chuckle, trying the thimbles size.

"Ah well, I've spent a lot of time watching them be used." The tiefling responds almost hesitantly, his hand coming up to rub the back of his neck. As he sees your confused expression, he explains further. "My soulmate, I believe they're a tailor. I've watched them sew in my dreams since they were young."

It's then that things click in your head, only one word able to leave your lips. "Dammon...?" Bright blue eyes light up as soon as you say it, all the air leaving your chest as you look at the man you've been thinking about for years. Dammons lips part slightly, closing again, a hand reaching out for you that you take instantly.

"It can't be... It's you?" He murmurs, seemingly not quite able to believe it. It's not long before a small laugh leaves you, your thumb running over his calloused hand as you pull him closer.

"Always has been." You respond, quickly being pulled into a hug you can't help but reciprocate, wrapping your arms around him. Like most tieflings, he's endlessly warm, but the difference is how his body seems to engulf yours. The smell of smoke and iron heavy on him as it surrounds you like a blanket. Finally, your soulmate, safe in your arms.

[squirrelsqwirow]

HC: lovesick!muzan x fem!demonreader

a/n: I love the idea of a powerful, intimidating man being head-over-heels for his wife cw: mentions of death, cannon setting, slight yandere, suggestive themes, odd use of blood cause demons, ooc a bit????

lovesick!muzan who rules as the demon king, feared by both demons and humans alike, a murderer of thousands, a egocentric psychopath who believes himself to be a god walking earth, a heartless, cold man who cares not for others and only for his self-gain

lovesick!muzan who would only kneel for his beautiful wife - the demon queen

lovesick!muzan who ensures that your existence is kept a lethal rumour - lower demons tremble when they utter the title 'demon queen' for they fear muzan will hear them - and he does

lovesick!muzan who's eyes sharpen when one of his pathetic creations dares speak of you, and is by their side within a blink, hand dug deep into their stomach, fingers wrapped around the spine and with one harsh pull, they are left motionless as the sun peaks over the buildings

lovesick!muzan who confirms your existence with his upper moons by having you join his side at his last meeting over one-hundred years ago - they hadn't seen you since

within the stomach of the infinity castle, atop a risen platform you lay comfortably with your head on your husbands lap. muzan looked down with disgust at his supposed upper moons - the most powerful products of his unwavering hatred, yet in that moment all he felt with disappointment. his hand was gentle as it ran across your jewelled hair, careful to not catch on the golden accessories. "they're pathetic," you had said. muzan hummed as you continued: "loyal but incompetent." "I give them power and a simple request in return," he stroked your cheek and your eyes closed. "Yet they have nothing to show for it." muzan's voice sharpened and he narrowed his eyes as all but one upper moon looked displeased. "imperfection isn't acceptable."

lovesick!muzan who allows you and only you to keep him company in his lab - he prefers to work in silence, but if you take an interest in his love for chemistry he will answer every question with a smile so small only you can see it

lovesick!muzan who believes his wife to be the most intelligent individual he's ever met - calm, cunning, vicious, elegant with a strong desire for destruction and power - he'd never think so highly of anyone else

lovesick!muzan who stares at his wife constantly - any lesser being would assume him to be glaring, but you've known him long enough to see the love in his stare - he doesn't like being caught staring, and most times isn't, but he lets his guard down around you

lovesick!muzan who will give you his blood without hesitation, for you are the demon queen and therefore deserving of all this power

muzan swiftly sliced the pad of his index finger with the sharp nail of his thumb. he delicately took your face in his hands and your mouth fell open, tongue resting against your lower, red lip. he smiled and slowly placed his index on the base of your tongue and dragged it to the tip - silk-like red trailing his finger. it was like iron in your mouth, a metallic tang as you swallowed. muzan kissed you next, soft and chaste with his lips flush against your own. as he pulled away, he could feel the thickness of your red lipstick against his lips, and his cunning suspicion was confirmed as you smiled largely.

lovesick!muzan who creates a unique deep red lipstick for only you, specially crafted in his lab and injected with his blood - it was vivid against your complexation, often attracting the attention of many human women who would approach you asking for the store you purchased it from

lovesick!muzan who swells with pride when you tell them it's custom made by your intelligent husband

lovesick!muzan who doesn't sleep very often - nor do you, but when you lie down for a nap every decade or two, he will only protest once before joining you under the covers

lovesick!muzan who sleeps on his back with your arm slung over his chest and your face buried in the crook of his neck - he's not one to fall asleep fast, but he stays and rubs small circles into your shoulder as you sleep peacefully

lovesick!muzan who will admire you as you sleep, tracing your facial features and planting small pecks to your forehead - one of the very few times he'll smile kindly

lovesick!muzan who ventures into the human world with you on his arm, visiting the wealthiest parts of Japan and purchasing you anything you stare too long at - a foreign gold necklace, a luxurious kimono - anything, ask him for anything and it's yours

lovesick!muzan who knows you long to travel the world, but it is too much of a risk with sunlight still damning him to the shadows - but he gives you his word, that once he has conquered the sun and given you the same ability will he give you the world

lovesick!muzan who would rip cities apart and massacre villages if it brought a smile to that lovely face - he would approach you when it's done, drenched in blood yet not a hair out of place

he approached with arrogance in his step, pressed black suit velvet under the moons light. he stop before you and kneeled. his deep voice drawled: "have I pleased you, my love?" his eyes - a sharp red like the splatters of blood against his pale face - looked up at you expectantly. muzan knew you were, but oh how he loved to hear it. you smiled: "I'm beyond pleased, such a wonderful sight." as he rose you cupped his cheek and caressed the skin beneath his eye. "you always know how to make me happy."

lovesick!muzan who would tear any man or woman apart for staring at you with anything akin to lust or want - you are no longer phased by this habit of his

lovesick!muzan who drowns you in praise and whispers of love, paired with chaste kisses to your hands and cheeks

lovesick!muzan who ensures that his beloved wife lives a life of luxury and class, never needing to lift a finger, never needing to raise her voice, never needing to demand anything twice because it is done instantly

lovesick!muzan who bathes you in the finest blood - he'll sit on the edge of the large tub and read to you one of his many favourite poems or stories

you sat against the tub and leaned your head against the rest, a smile on your face. your knees poked from the red liquid, droplets running down the smooth skin of your thighs. his words were soft and deep as he recited a poem only a mind like his could understand. they lulled you to a peaceful mood, not quite asleep, but in a conscious state where all you could hear were your husbands words, and all you could feel was his hand linked with yours.

lovesick!muzan who initially refused to involve you in his work, but upon your constant pestering he finally admitted to his goal - the search for the blue spider lilly

lovesick!muzan who appreciated your efforts to finding this flower for him - you created a garden in a place between space and time, a dimension only the powerful could enter, and planted every seed you got your hands on in hopes that one day the blue flower would sprout from the ground

lovesick!muzan who adores your attempts to help him and loves visiting your garden when he is stressed - although he isn't confident this is the best way to find this flower, he appreciates the effort and comes to find peace within the garden

lovesick!muzan who, during upper moon meetings, will compare his demons to you

"in the past month my wife has made far more progress in obtaining the blue spider lilly than any of you have in the last century," muzan sneered and looked down upon his most powerful creations. such a waste of blood they turned out to be - perhaps he should consider replacements. "please, my lord! please forgive us!" hantengu cried on his hands and knees. "I do not want excuses," muzan said with a narrowed glare. he overlooked all his upper moons and felt disgust in the pit of his stomach at how far they had fallen. centuries they had lived, thousands they has slaughtered and consumed without mercy, hundreds they tortured for entertainment, yet they fall short when finding a flower. how dishonorable, how frustrating, how insulting to his and his wife's name. "I want results."

lovesick!muzan who met you when he was human, the beautiful, kind and intelligent daughter of his doctor, and never cared for you in the beginning, but as you appeared more and more, he grew to enjoy your company

lovesick!muzan who fell in love and so desperately wanted to give you the life you deserved, but from the confines on his bed it seemed impossible

lovesick!muzan who grew bitter and angry at the thought that one day soon he would die and you would take another man - he swore to you that if he lived he would give you everything you deserved

lovesick!muzan who becomes a demon thanks to your fathers innovation, and quickly turns you too, making work of his promise in giving you everything you deserve - power, wealth, loyal servants, a kingdom and a title

lovesick!muzan who never would have fallen in love with you had you not been there since the very beginning, but is so thankful you were because he cannot bare to think how empty and lonely his life would be without you

[yoongsisbae]

Spring Day Still with You | JJK

You ran away from the cold and Jungkook ran with you, warming each other’s hearts. But within the cycle of life, there is death, and as spring blooms, the blood still lays soaked in the dirt. You ran and they chased.

hybrid!Jungkook x reader. fantasy AU

Hey reader, I am back with another story! I know I usually update sooner, so much stuff has happened in my life to “slow me down”, but hopefully this makes up for it! Anyways, enjoy this unofficial official sequel to Not a Creature was Stirring aka Y/N and JK being fluffy and cute and then taking on his bros like the ultimate power couple :D

Warnings: horror elements, blood, gore, violence, monsters, unwanted kisses/scenting, smut, knotting u.u, breeding kink, exhibitionism, predator/prey, “catch me”

Word Count: 15k

-🌑-

Jungkook doesn’t remember how he became a beast. 

But he remembers when he first became human.

It was in Spring, when he reached twenty years of age. 

One morning he woke up without fur, terrified of his new weakened body. He wandered his forest, lost and confused. He never had a family, he never had anyone who taught him what he was. 

A lone wolf. 

Jungkook grew up not knowing anything other than loneliness, hungry nights without any kills and mornings waking up in a panic, running away from animals and humans alike, not understanding how powerful he truly was. He spent evenings hiding, jittery, scared. Even though he was only a pup, his form resembled a large wild wolf, a predator. 

Jungkook’s kind were meant to dominate the land, hunt animal kind and human kind and prey on everything in between. Jungkook didn’t know, he knew of nothing except survival.

Jungkook grew and became monstrous. He didn’t have to hide anymore, he didn’t have to run, and no longer went hungry at night. But inside, his loneliness ate him alive instead. 

His kind were not meant to exist alone, even though Jungkook did not remember what happened to make him an outcast, he knew deep down how abnormal it was for him to be without a pack, without a family.

By chance he found others like him. 

At least, that’s what he believed... 

At his weakest moment, wandering aimlessly, wishing for a better existence or perhaps no existence at all, he became human. 

It was something that happened to all of his kind eventually, but he was never taught that, never shown how to utilize his powers, and Jungkook was once again terrified and alone and small. 

Jungkook was found by a young boy out hunting with his father. It was actually their luck that they did not stumble upon Jungkook in his beast form, for both Jungkook and the pair of men. 

And finally Jungkook learned something...

When the old man rushed to his side, took off his hunting coat and gave it to Jungkook, when the boy helped him to his feet and Jungkook walked on two legs for the first time, and they took him back to their home, he learned about living life as a young human man. 

He was shy, Jungkook did not understand how to live like a human, barely understanding how to live like a beast. But they gave him kindness. 

Kindness, he also learned, was always punished in the end.

Jungkook was never taught the mechanics of his transformation, he thought this new body was what he was always meant to become, had given him a way to finally not be alone. He stayed human for days, months, years…he did not understand what he truly was. 

He learned their language, their customs, he helped the father who in his old age was slowing down; he became friends with the son, and finally had a home. Jungkook slowly let down his walls.

Eating fresh caught fish at a table with kind strangers who treated him like one of their own, Jungkook smiled and felt a sense of peace wash over him, a happiness now that he was not alone.  

It was the calmness, an acceptance within him, that triggered his second transformation.

It was a calmness before a terrible storm.

When that father and son first stumbled upon Jungkook, scared and wandering alone in the woods, they were not the only ones who had found him.

But unlike a man, a predator hid in the shadows, stalked its target, unseen and unheard, always learning, always observing. Because a predator knew when to strike at the perfect moment.

So when Jungkook, unable to control himself, transformed, it was an instantaneous reaction so quick he will never know who attacked first.

Was it him, with his senses so heightened once again, his instincts to end the looming danger so strong that overtook all of his reason?

Or was it the father and son, so fearful of his beastly form, their once kind eyes now looking upon him with contention? Jungkook doesn’t know, but he has always blamed himself nonetheless.

The home he had found was destroyed in a flash of fur and bloodshed, the people he grew to care for turned on him before he could grasp what he had done. And Jungkook, broken again, transformed back to human and believed he was alone once more, now by his own blood-stained hands. 

Standing in destruction, he found a truth within himself that he was more than a scared animal or a weak human, he realized that he was a monster.

With their blood dripping from his hair, his hands, staining his skin and the rancid metal taste of what used to be kindness covering his lips, he hated what he was.

He cried, devastated at what happened, wishing he too laid in a pile of bones and limbs with them. And then overcome, he felt his arms and legs stretch and break and reform again.

He howled.

He thought he was alone. 

But they had been watching him all this time. Waiting.

And they pounced. 

A group of men circled him, and even though he could have torn them to shreds, he curled into himself, tried to lick away the blood tangled in his fur and whined and wretched. 

He did not understand his own power, but they did. 

They saw how massive and eclipsing he was, they saw his potential even in his patheticness. How useful he could be to them one day. 

The leader walked forward, and did something Jungkook never expected to witness. He transformed too, instantly becoming a beast just like him. His eyes red and glowing, pierced into Jungkook with an understanding, that Jungkook did not have to give up just yet. His fangs pulled at Jungkook’s nape, ordering him to move. Jungkook whimpered, then howled. And to his surprise, he was met with six other howls. 

The men were gone, it was now only a den of beasts.

So they took him back into the woods. And because Jungkook had nowhere else to go, he went.

And he learned more, he learned what it was to be beastly.

That was nearly eighty years ago.

-🌖-

“Ow!”

Jungkook frowns, “Nothing happened.”

“Was something supposed to happen?” You rub your shoulder, huffing. You sit with Jungkook on the steps of your cabin. 

He’s cute in the way he looks at you, eyes wide and inquisitive. “I thought it might trigger your transformation, getting hurt.”

You roll your eyes, your irises already dulled back to your natural color. You pull your legs into your body, leaning your chin on your knees, and look toward the landscape, bright and sunny, inches of white snow slowly melting in the sunlight. 

‘Last night....what happened last night,’ you wonder.

There are deep scratches etched into the wood of the cabin walls from yesterday’s fight. The wind’s howls still echoed inside of you.

Another howling, terrifying; a growling, echoed in your thoughts too.

A twig snapped you out of your spiraling thoughts. Everything was now calm and peaceful. Everything except you. Jungkook stares at you, knees knocking into your own.

‘What happened?!’ You tried to piece it together, but it was lost. You only had a series of memories that barely made sense, that felt like a dream, or what more adequately could be described as nightmarish.

Red eyes staring right into yours, a wet slimy snout so close to you, long sharp fangs barely missing your skin, snowflakes that seemed like they stood still in the air as you moved, and a desire inside you to...kill-

You can’t stay here anymore! And Jungkook? He can’t stay here, no, you won’t leave him, but can you really leave this place...together? Should you?

How are you going to explain Jungkook to your friends and family? And there was another question piecing itself inside you. What were you going to do about the undeniable energy coursing through your body, the buzzing warmth from within you that you can’t comprehend, the freezing air that feels refreshing on your skin... 

“Explain what happened again. What do you mean I was still human?”

Jungkook wishes he had answers to give you, the one who could give him answers he couldn’t risk asking. “You still looked human. Your hair was longer,” he plays with your finger tips, examining each nail, “and your nails and teeth were sharper, but you still looked like you.”

His large eyes stare at you, remembering, awe-like, “You were fast, faster than all of us. You really don’t remember anything?”

You felt dizzy. Your head wasn't spinning, you weren't off balance, it felt like the lightheadedness you get after singing, too much air, too much light, too much, it was all too much. “No...I-I’m sorry-” you stand up, turning away.

Jungkook pulls you back and into a kiss, surprising you, his strong arms wrapping around you, his smell engulfing you. Has he always smelled so enticing?

Jungkook pulls away, perplexed. “No, that didn’t work either,” he hums. 

You pout, his kiss had silenced your worries until he reminded you once more. “We need to leave, before they come back,” you say resolutely. “We can’t stay here.”

“Okay, are you sure?”

“I...Yes.” You take a deep calming breath. “Yes, I can’t stay here, Jungkook. I have to go back,” you say, sad and weary.

Jungkook stands with you, his hand grasping onto yours. “Okay. Let’s go.”

You can’t help but smile. And he smiles too.

-

You pace through the cabin one last time, making sure nothing was left behind, steps heavy on the cabin floor as you walk quicker than usual. “We’ll have to find our own way back to the ranger’s post.” Jungkook nods, trepidation clear on his features, yet he was willing to do what you asked. 

You massage your temples while looking over your luggage, belongings that remind you there was a world waiting for you past this cabin and these woods. A job you had to get back to, relationships you had to mend, a life you had to pick up the pieces of to keep moving forward. 

But you didn’t want to leave. Everything feels so inconsequential now. You catch Jungkook’s beautiful brown eyes following you around and you feel scared to leave the security of the cabin that had become such a safe haven to you both in such a short amount of time.

“What if it happens again and I can’t remember again?” You whisper, shuddering at the thought.

Jungkook looks just as confused and conflicted as you feel inside. He reaches for you, holding you close. “I’ll be there with you.”

-🌖-

“What’s that?”

“Electric Teapot.”

“What’s this?”

“A rice cooker.” You lean against Jungkook’s back, wrapping your arms around his lean torso. “Any other questions?”

He lifts his arm so your head peeks under it. “How are you feeling?”

“The same,” you shrug, “maybe hungrier,” you laugh. “Want me to show you how to use that?” You point to your microwave. 

Jungkook looks at the appliance and scrunches his nose in disapproval. “No.” 

You giggle, pulling him through your home. The journey back to the ranger’s post went smoothly. Jungkook transformed one last time and took you to the edge of the woods. Racing through the woods his senses were on high alert, but there was no left trace of his pack. However, Jungkook couldn’t get rid of the sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach that you both were still in terrible danger.

But your smile reassured him. 

Jungkook was calmed by the way you looked wistfully towards the woods that were full of horrors, laughing with the new ranger on duty while giving him back the keys to the cabin. You spun the silver house keyring around your pointer finger listening as the ranger told you the best roads to take back towards the city, only vaguely aware of how the silver coating now itched your skin the longer you played with the keys.

Then the car ride back to your place left Jungkook overstrung, jumpy. The city’s mechanics were a jarring contrast, everything sounded louder after staying in the wilderness, even to you. Jungkook stayed on edge until you both entered your apartment. 

It’s not as if Jungkook hasn’t visited the city before. However, years of advancing technology made the woods a more ideal hunting ground for his kind. It was a blessing and a curse. Jungkook stayed in the woods, growing more isolated, for what could have been a lifetime in human years. Jungkook could barely recognize the city as it was now. But there were reminders, street names prattled by a monotone navigation voice that stirred unpleasant memories inside him.

Memories like...

-🌒-

“Can’t we go home now?”

“Our Jungkook always has such a soft spot for humans.” The second youngest of the pack, Taehyung puts drapes his arm around Jungkook’s neck, squeezing him into a painful headlock.

“It will be okay Jungkook, we’ll be quick,” his brother, Jimin whispers, smiling.

“Speak for yourself,” Taehyung grunts.

“But the screaming is so annoying,” Jimin whines. Jungkook feels like screaming.

The oldest members of the pack were getting closer, each with an unsuspecting human or two clinging to their bodies, laughing drunkedly as they led the way to Jungkook and the others.

Before Jungkook could attempt to dissuade them again, Taehyung and Jimin had already transformed, bounding towards the large group. Jungkook reluctantly transformed and followed, keeping a lookout, but really hoping to ward away others out of harm’s path.

The humans screamed and the members they had befriended lead them down another alley, pretending to help, a deadly trick.

They escaped right into a dead end. And then, when they believed things could not get any worse, the men’s mood shifted, and so did their bodies.

-

It was like this in the beginning. When Jungkook was taught the extent of his powers from his pack, they would go into the city to prowl. He was taught how to lure in prey another way. And Jungkook reluctantly learned how to approach humans and make friends so his pack could feast.

Like most things they asked of him, he answered with a kind of quiet resistance, many times he refused to partake and his personality became quite...unalluring.

He was rude, mean, and hateful to humans. Yet, it wasn’t because he hated them. He did it to spare them, he could not have human friends, and he could not find friendship amongst his pack who found him odd and difficult to teach. It caused the pack to bully Jungkook for fighting against their ways, tearing him down and belittling him, until one day, on Christmas Eve, he decided he had enough...

-🌖-

You check your phone, no new messages from your mysterious host. You left a voice message, trying to stay light in your inquiries to her, but perhaps you need to be more direct, you think. Still, how are you going to convince a stranger to help you when it could put her in danger as well? 

You call again, leaving another voice message. “Hello! It’s me again...your cabin was lovely, I felt very safe. I was, well, hoping you could give me some tips on how to properly make my own home feel just as secure-” You frown, how direct is too direct? “-from you know, um, unwanted visitors…please call me back.” 

You hang up, hoping for a good response to your awkward plea. “What do you think?” You look at the magnets littered on your fridge, pulling down old photos that left an unpleasant taste in your mouth, your eyes stopping on the number to your favorite take out place, “Take out tonight?” you ask Jungkook.

“Um, ‘take’…‘out’?”

It’s not like you had a ton of expendable cash to feed and take care of another living being, but watching Jungkook devour your favorite dishes, humming in happiness as he tries the greasy take out food, made you think maybe this arrangement could work out somehow for the best.

You hadn’t expected another man in your life so soon, but you realized, trying not to laugh as Jungkook took his time cleaning the bones of his fried chicken, he was not quite all man…

You smiled, and then wondered what that meant for you, looking down at your short nails that Jungkook claimed became as sharp as talons.

“Eat,” he holds out a piece of chicken which you gratefully take. He looks towards the window, “We’re high up, that’s good.”

“Yeah?”

He nods, grabbing another piece of chicken and speaking in between bites. “It makes it harder to track a scent.”

You feel fear wash down your spine, cold and unpleasant. “Do you think they will? They’d come to the city for us? All this way?”

All those years, Jungkook never tried to leave the woods on his own, so he did not know. But he understood the pack’s dynamics, you had wounded them, and if they survived he knew they would not take a loss without retaliation. And he knew they would stop at nothing to establish their dominance again.

Jungkook moves to your window, cracking it open. He could smell so many things, but nothing out of the ordinary for a city. “If they come,” he breathes out, “I’ll be ready for them this time. I’ll be better, I’ll protect you no matter what.”

You watch the city lights twinkle and bury your head in his chest, hugging him close, making a silent promise to yourself to protect him too.

-🌘- 

You felt snow beneath your bare feet, the coldness was only a mild bother.

In fact, you felt warm.

The woods surrounding you were familiar, the dead branches spreading out in patterns you recognized. You stayed quiet and listened, and if you concentrated hard enough you could hear the wings of a large bird flying overhead, gliding from one branch to another, you could hear the small steps of a bunny rabbit moving on the ground, you could hear steady breathing in the distance. 

You saw a wolf. 

It was not intimidatingly large like Jungkook, it did not look terrifying and monstrous like the man in the fur coat, or wild and threatening like the wolves that chased you. 

It was a calm wolf with dark long fur. Its eyes watched you, studied you. 

The wolf’s eyes were not a menacing shade of red like the beasts’ eyes that haunted you still. No. It’s eyes stared into yours, a familiar shade that made you think of only one thing as the wolf moved closer to you, mere inches from your face, so close you could see your own reflection in its similar eyes, your eyes staring back like a mirror in its orbs. Your hand reached for your cheek in reflex, pulling on your bottom eyelid. Your eyes…

Your eyes.

It was your eyes.

“Y/n!” 

Jungkook shook you, waking you up. You clung to him, surprised. “You…you were crying in your sleep,” he says worriedly. 

You catch your breath, feeling the sting in your eyes from your mounting tears. “I’m sorry, sorry, I’m okay.” you reassure him, and yourself, cuddling back into his embrace.

“Are you sure?” he whispers, burying his nose in your neck out of habit. “I am here, you can talk to me. You don’t have to go through this alone,” he says softly, remembering all the moments when he wished he could hear someone utter those words. No, he won’t let what happened to him happen to you too.

You run your fingers through his hair, untangling the ends, your chin resting against his forehead. “I feel it inside me…this other thing. How do I stop something like that?” Your voice shakes as you try to make sense of your dream. “How do you?”

“It took me a while to control it,” he winces.

“How do you? ‘Control’ it?”

Jungkook pauses, thinking of his pack.

They would transform in front of him quickly and fluidly, utilizing whatever form benefited them in the moment. It took him a long while, to not let his emotions dictate his outside form, and eventually he felt comfortable enough to switch between forms, learning to follow their lead if only so Jungkook wouldn’t be left behind...

“I shouldn’t have used that word. You don’t control it, you accept it. I can transform easily because I know this is me,” he looks down at his hand, intertwined in yours, “And my other form...” he trails off, quieting screams that still shrill in his memory, “is who I am too,” he swallows.

But for you, if that beast hadn’t attacked you, you wouldn’t be going through this…this nightmare. This isn’t you.

You nod anyway, kissing his forehead to not only calm him, but your own worries as well.

“I have a couple more days of vacation,” you yawn. “I can show you around. We can buy you some clothes.”

Jungkook pulls the ends of your hoodie down, “I like wearing your clothes, they smell nice.”

You laugh and yawn. “We can get you clothes that fit you better. I need new clothes too, it’s going to warm up soon, I already feel so hot,” you huff, adjusting the collar of your night shirt. 

Jungkook’s reaction does not go unnoticed by you, the way he licks his lips absentmindedly, eyeing your revealed skin, his grip on your body tightening.

“Jungkook…”

“Yes?” He leans on his elbow, looking down at you. His eyes were curious, cautious, but his chest was heavy on yours. His presence over you left your stomach hungry-

You felt that hunger drop through your body, spread down your legs as you felt yourself heat up for an entirely different reason.

You try to focus on something other than his warmth.

“Is this okay for you? Being here in the city?” You push his hair behind his ear so you can stare into his eyes. Jungkook nods, but you press him. “Are you going to be okay? Everything here is so…tight, packed. You were free in the woods.” Even the cabin felt less confining than your apartment. Would he even be able to transform here? 

Jungkook shakes his head no, a small smile curling over his lips, “I wasn’t free. Not until I met you.”

You interlace your fingers with his. “You might have to stay just human until I can find some place better, is that okay?” You were thinking of leaving this place anyways, there were too many old memories here, traces of your ex that stuck to the walls of your home.

“I like being human,” Jungkook shrugs, lying his head back down on your shoulder. “I want to be human, with you.” Jungkook’s preference was one of the reasons his packmates would torment him, how could he prefer such a weaker form?

“I want to be with you too,” you hum, melding into Jungkook’s embrace. “I love you,” you whisper, knowing Jungkook could hear you loud and clear. It was undeniable how much you wanted him near you, how you wished you had met him sooner, before your heart was broken and guarded, maybe then you wouldn’t feel so fearful of your future together.

Jungkook smiled and moved himself closer…and as you were both already pressed up against each other, closer meant his body over yours, legs tangled, his head buried into the crook of your neck .

Now that Jungkook had already given himself to you, it was hard to stop himself when you were right there, in nothing but a t-shirt, so beautiful under him.

He wanted all his senses filled with just you.

He breathed in deep. He wanted to drown in the sweet scent of your love, feel your skin against every inch of his, listen to your soft sighs, your breathing escalating as he licked across your neck.

He wanted to study your features, your body, memorize your unique and intoxicating taste as he explored your mouth with his tongue.

He wanted to tell you the same, he wanted to make you his mate, and hold you forever. 

But he was still too shy and unsure of himself. He doubted he even deserved such a happy ending to his life when so much wickedness lived inside of him. 

But with you under him, even if he couldn’t tell you what he desired, his instincts to claim you in that moment took over. You were always so responsive from his touch, so inviting, and he craved your sweetness.

Your mouth widened and your legs opened, acting like a perfect mate, he thought. Your lust hit him in waves, each hit stronger than the last, encouraging him on. It made his desire to have you all consuming.

You gasp as Jungkook rips your shirt open. Oh, you’re definitely going to need more clothes.

It was hard to be annoyed over clothes when Jungkook had himself pressed so tightly against you, his mouth kissing you with such unrestrained passion it made your head spin.

You both rushed to have him inside of you, you were so wound up and ready to release all the tension and anxiety you felt.

“So warm,” Jungkook moaned, buried deep inside you. His hips jerk forward, pushing you up the bed. “So soft.” He loved the softness of your body when he bent your legs forward, spread your thighs open, his fingers digging into your supple skin. With the curves of your body molding into his, all he could think about was how perfect you were for him, his perfect mate.

You don’t think you’ll ever get quite used to this full feeling, or the way Jungkook makes love to you so fervently. Even on your best days with your past lover, it was never like this. What you felt in Jungkook’s embrace was primal.

Your bodies collided together like you were meant to stay connected as one. The pleasure you felt was blinding, bright as the light of two stars crashing together and creating something so brilliant there was nothing else. And for you, there was only Jungkook consuming your thoughts and overriding your senses, driving you higher into the cosmos.

“Yes, yes, yes!” your cries of pleasure only made Jungkook thrust faster, harder into your heat. The way you tightened and he expanded felt so intensely satisfying you both unraveled into a mixture of grunts and growls, until you came around him shaking, his own following quickly after, hips stuttering and filling you up.

You clenched around him in sensitivity as he swelled even more inside you. “Fuck, I’m not used to this,” you shuddered, laughing breathlessly.

“Sorry,” Jungkook nipped at your lips, rolling over so you laid over him, nestled to his chest. You listened to his erratic heartbeat as your own breathing slowed. “My kind mate like this.”

“‘Mate’…” you smile against his chest at the way he describes the act. “Is that what we’re doing, mating? Are you trying to get me pregnant, Jungkook?” you tease cheekily. You were on birth control, so you weren’t particularly worried, but giggled at Jungkook’s flushed face and flustered expression.

Jungkook bites his lips as your fingers draw circles into his chest. You should be tired after coming, but the way his dick was still hard and thick inside you hadn’t helped to lessen your appetite to have him. The twitch of his cock felt so good still, the fullness of his cum inside you felt obscenely arousing. You swiveled your hips against his, making you both moan.

“If you wanted to…” The thought of you pregnant with his child had his body feverish. He licked his lips, calming himself before he took you all over again. He could smell you weren’t yet in heat, but that did not stop his fantasies from running wild.

“Is that what you want?” you ask, licking your lips. 

Jungkook shifts inside you again, barely holding himself together.

Could he have this; his deepest desires, with you?

He nods quickly. You run your thumb across his jawline. You hadn’t really thought about children with your ex-boyfriend, especially at the end of your relationship when the sex was barely existent. When you looked down at Jungkook, who looked so reverently up at you, who you’ve known for only a sliver of time...somehow the idea of a future family seemed more…real than it’s ever been.

“Let’s work on getting you some new clothes first,” you smile. “Then we can talk about that–hey! O-Oh–” you laugh, your giggles turning into a series of moans as Jungkook pulls you into a kiss, pressing his hips up.

---

You giggle as Jungkook carries eight bags full of new clothes and groceries. He looks around the open market, head spinning in all directions at the sight and sounds and smells. You looked at a table with jewelry displayed. There were already Valentine’s Day sales, but even with the marked down price it was still out of your price range. You frown, “Ready to go home?” Jungkook nods, bags in tow.

“Just set everything on the table, what do you think of stew tonight? I have a new recipe I want to try!” you clasp your hands together excitedly, pulling off your coat and rolling up your sleeves. Jungkook was already dressed in one of his new outfits, a tight sheer turtleneck that made his muscles stand out.

You reached for the ends of his sleeves, rolling them to his forearms. Jungkook stared down at you, smirking at the way your body was already starting to heat up. 

“Here, for you.”

“Jungkook, where did you get that?!” You grab the bracelet from his hand, astonished.

“Err you wanted it, didn’t you? You were staring at it back at the-”

“But you can’t just take it! That’s stealing!” You turn the shiny piece dangling in your grasp, admiring it despite your worries.

Jungkook frowns, “I’m s-sorry, that’s what we used to do when we came into the city.”

“You and your, um, brothers?” you ask. Jungkook nods. “You can’t…there’s CCTV, you’ll get caught,” you warn. Jungkook bites his bottom lip, he very much doubted he would get caught, but he nodded in agreement nonetheless.

“It’s beautiful…” you murmur, “but not worth getting in trouble.” You still put it around your wrist, Jungkook helps you clasp the ends when you struggle, concentrating on the tiny piece with a furrowed brow that makes you giggle.

“Thank you, Jungkook…but don’t do it again, please.” Jungkook nods, surprised when you pull him into a hug, and then pull his head down for a kiss. If you react this way, he will just have to find a way to get you jewelry without stealing, he thinks, already wanting to do it again.

“We need to cook!” you laugh when he licks and nibbles the column of your neck.

A knock draws both your attention away.

Who could be knocking so late at night? It couldn’t be your family or friends, they would have called you ahead of time.

And suddenly you felt like you were back in the woods, fear washing over you as you walked cautiously closer to the door, peering through the peephole.

No…

‘Stay there,’ you motion to Jungkook anxiously, who looks back at you like he wants to do anything but that.

You unlock the door and open it. “What are you doing here?”

“Y/n, hey. I heard you were back from your trip. How was your Christmas?”

Your ex stands awkwardly at your door. ‘It was supposed to be our trip,’ you think, annoyed. “Yeah,” you clear your throat. “It was good. Did you need something?”

He looks lost, confused at your demeanor. You frown, crossing your arms over your chest. What did he expect from you? you think, to beg him to take you back? “I, um, wanted to get some things I left...”

“Okay, stay here-”

“Let me help you, I wanted to talk-”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You block his way in as he advances, holding the door firmly.

“Come on, you’re really going to make me wait out here in the cold?”

You look down at your shoulder, the place where your ex had his hand placed over. You were not happy about the flood of emotions that entered your system, it was already hard enough to see his face, hear his voice, but then he had to go and touch you in some quazi-comforting gesture that made your blood boil and your heart ache. You couldn’t stop the shaking in your voice after that, “...after what you did…yes.” You flinch backward, shaking his hand off.

“I’m sorry, y/n, I’m so sorry. Please believe me-”

“I’ll never trust a word you say ever again!”

“Y/n, are you okay?” A hand landed on your shoulder again, gripping it hard, pressing into the muscle to relax your tense body.

Jungkook stood at your back protectively, crossing his arms, chest puffed out trying to look intimidating, and you guess he did to others who did not know him like you did.

You were grateful for his presence. “I’m fine,” you mumble looking over your shoulder, “Let me go get your stuff,” you address your ex. 

“Uh-” Jungkook moves forward, hiding you from his view. “H-Hey.”

Jungkook glares, lips tightly shut, leaving a heavy awkward silence in the air.

Your ex stands stiffly at your door until you come back with a box of his old clothes and toiletries. “Here you go.”

He looks between you and Jungkook. “Is this a friend?” You could tell he was uncomfortable with even that idea, his demeanor completely caught off guard by Jungkook’s presence.

You were allowed to move on, he’s the one who cheated on you! The days after you caught him in the act, leading up to Christmas, were some of the worst days of your life. You haven’t forgotten or forgiven him. Your ex had made you feel worthless, stomping on your feelings like you were dirt under his shoe, he made you think no one could love you again...

“No,” you say, “this is my boyfriend.”

You guess you could call Jungkook that. Your bond was a bit more complicated, even if neither of you really made things official until this moment.

“What, your ‘boyfriend?’” he said, tone unpleasant.

“Yes,” Jungkook glares, daring him to challenge him, placing his hand protectively around your waist. “I’m hers.”

You have unwittingly become leader of your own little pack. It was definitely a complicated bond.

-🌕-

It happened during the next full moon.

You woke up drenched in sweat, your muscles locked, your skin felt like it was on fire.

You were in too much pain to speak, you trembled and whimpered instead. Jungkook pulled your body out of bed, carrying you to your shower, holding you tightly as water cascaded down your bodies, steam filling the bath even though the water was cold. 

Your eyes were a glowing shade of red as you shook in Jungkook’s arms and looked up at him pleading for help. The more you fought against what was happening, the more pain you felt. Your long nails dug into his arm, drawing blood as you gritted your teeth.

“I’m here, I’m here, I’ll protect you” Jungkook whispered soothingly, but he did not really know how to help you. Until you began screaming, resisting with everything inside you, and all he could do to quiet you was to press his lips to yours, softening your cries.

You woke up on your living room floor, furniture pushed to the walls and Jungkook’s large wolf body encircled around you, with only a foggy memory of the night before.

-🌗-

“Hello! Thank you for returning my call.”

Jungkook sits cross legged on your couch, now pushed to the wall, as you pace around the living room. After that terrifying night you left a lengthy voice massage for the cabin’s owner, desperate for help.

Jungkook watches you move back and forth and wishes he could calm your nerves. He felt useless, like a burden, a horrible mate, no, a boyfriend, Jungkook reminded himself.

“Heh, did I say werewolf?” you pace to the left, “Wait are those real? Oh, of course, that makes sense...” you pace to the right, “Yes...um, I did say that, didn’t I? Well, he was human when I brought him inside, I wouldn’t just let a wolf inside your cabin-” you stop in the center, sending Jungkook a worried smile, “Yes. Right. I-I just really need your help!” Jungkook shifts forward on the couch encouraging you to keep going. “Your cabin had um, some kind of, protection magic? Right?” Jungkook watches as you listen to her answer, shaking your head in frustration. “I’ll pay you! I will pay you, if you help me.”

“Oh…” You take a seat on the couch. Jungkook listens as you explain what happened on Christmas Day in more detail and the days following, his head in your lap, enjoying when you scratch his scalp. You slump into the cushions, pouting. “Yes, I know you said not to go outside at night, but-”

You play with the strands of Jungkook’s hair as you listen silently. “Is there a way to protect my home too?” you ask, so pleadingly Jungkook wraps his arms around your waist wishing you did not have to go through this.

“He’s not!” you yell. “Oh, I was not–I see…yes.”

Suddenly, your exasperated expression turns into one of excitement. You jump up from the couch, looking for a paper and pen. “Yes yes! Okay.” Jungkook looks over your shoulder thinking, ‘What is Wolfsbane?’

“Thank you!”

-🌓-

This counted as spring cleaning right? you think as you finish boxing the last items left in your bedroom. “Jungkook!”

“Yeah?” he seemingly appears out of nowhere, peaking into the room.

“Can you tape this up?” you ask, standing up and brushing the dust off your pants.

Jungkook nods, tape gun already in hand. His helpfulness is cute and endearing, and his lack of shirt and tight ripped pants made him irresistible. You run to the kitchen to make sure your sexy boyfriend doesn’t distract you any more than he already has.

But Jungkook, for all his intimidating good looks, acts like a lost puppy, following after you straight away. “Let me help.” He reaches over you, pulling the last of the dishes from the top shelves of your cabinets.

He smells good. Even after hours of moving boxes, he smells so good.

“Hey,” his hushed voice drops two octaves, looking down at you. He could always tell when you were distracted...aroused.

“Two more hours until the movers get here,” you remind him. You were relieved you found a nice place to move into, it was bigger and cheaper due to its location near a college, and there was even a park in walking distance.

Jungkook licks his lips, “Two more hours?” he repeats, moving closer to you.

“We haven’t finished packing,” you remind him, sensing his intentions.

Your hand against his bare chest for space is not helping, only decreasing your reluctance. “Two hours is plenty of time,” he surprises you by picking you up, dropping you on the counter.

“We should focus on–oh–the–ah-”

You really couldn’t focus on anything other than Jungkook’s mouth leaving love bites across your chest, his lips and teeth dragging down your skin, lowering his head until he was nipping at your stomach.

He teased you, pulling away your clothes until you were naked and willing to waste time with him. Your enthusiasm always riled Jungkook up, made him animalistic, until he was pushing you down onto the only carpet left unrolled, mounting you and thrusting into you hard and deep as you squirmed under his strong hold, getting wetter and tighter as he quickened his paced until he was feral, unhinged thrusts fucking into you as deep as he could reach.

“Please-”

“Please what?” he growled into your ear, spilling all his filthy thoughts out, “Give it to you harder? Fill your womb up with my seed?”

“Yes-”

“You would look so good–ah-full with my pups. Would you like that?” He laid his weight over you, rolling his hips to reach every part inside you.

“Fill me up,” you moan, “I want your babies.”

Jungkook’s cock swelled, pumping you full of his cum. You could feel rivers of his release against your walls, sticky and wet, with no place to go with his cock plugged inside you.

You laid gasping and twitching under him, covered in sweat, filled to the brim.

“Want more?” he grunts, holding your body down. You nod eagerly.

-

Knock knock knock.

You and Jungkook look up surprised, locked together and naked, thinking of a good excuse for the movers.

-🌕-

Three times it’s happened, and though it's gotten easier for Jungkook, it never gets easier for you.

Walking the aisles of the convenience store late at night kept your mind off the things in your life you couldn’t control. Like random spontaneous transformations, the looming threat of monsters after you, or reoccurring night terrors that left you with even more unanswered questions.

You sneaked away while Jungkook was sleeping, hoping that a surprise dinner date would do as an apology for the night before.

Even if Jungkook did not act like you had done anything wrong, this morning you saw the fresh scars that covered his shoulders and reached his neck. It killed you inside to see the marks, evidence of what you had done...it terrified you.

“Can’t go wrong with noodles,” you sigh, adding a variety of flavors for Jungkook to try. ‘Hmmm, what else would he like?’ You should probably get him some meat too, you think, grabbing various cuts. You weren’t a big meat eater before, but even just smelling the raw beef had your mouth watering. You shiver, pushing those kind of thoughts out of your mind. 

You notice a huge display of strawberries, your favorite fruit, juicy and red, abundant in the spring season, so you grab some for Jungkook to try.

Maybe you should take him to a strawberry farm! The idea of Jungkook curiously roaming around a field of the red fruit, carefully choosing the ripest berries, makes you smile. You’ve noticed just how gentle Jungkook acts despite his massive size.

You add ‘strawberry picking,’ to the mental list of things you want Jungkook to experience. ‘Oh, Jungkook.’ You wanted to let him rest, give him some space since the only time you’ve been apart from each other is when you went in to work, but you’re starting to miss him already. How silly, you think.

While in your thoughts you hadn’t noticed the man next to you, but you smelled him, a familiar scent...if you didn’t know better you might have mistaken that smell for your stubborn boyfriend.

As though he recognized the moment you finally noticed his presence, he cleared this throat, “Excuse me, can you help me?”

You turn around, catching light brown eyes. The stranger offers you a large bright smile, it makes you feel safe...warm.

With his sharp jaw, high cheekbones, and long brown hair, he is very handsome, intimidatingly so. “O-Oh, what did you need help with?” You look over to the basket he is carrying, filled with alcohol. 

“Well,” he laughs shyly, “I’m new to the area, looking for some place to take my brothers, do you know any good nightclubs around here?”

“Oh, I just moved here too,” you smile, “There is a University close by! I bet there are clubs and bars around there.” You pull out your phone and open your navigation app, searching for the University. The man moves closer, looking over your shoulder while you toggle the map to magnify the area.

You glance to your side, where the man peers over your shoulder, eyes concentrating on your phone. His presence feels familiar and you can’t help but think of Jungkook.

This man reminds you of Jungkook. It’s a crazy thought. A scary thought.

His eyes dart up quick to meet yours, so fast you almost flinch, feeling embarrassed you were caught staring. But he just smiles wide, crescent eyes shining.

You quickly navigate your phone, pushing those ridiculous thoughts away, it has been months already and nothing has happened.

“Oh here, there’s a street full of bars. This one club has four and a half stars. He tilts his head closer to you, hair brushing along your cheekbone. Too close. You step to the side, closer to the strawberries, mindlessly running your fingers along the cases and picking out another box out of nervousness.

“Can you text me that address?” he asks, “If you don’t mind!” he adds quickly.

“Oh? Okay.” You fumble with your cell, “Yeah, sure.”

“You smell nice, what is that scent?” His fingertips graze the edges of your hair making you tilt your head away.

“Um, coconut, maybe?” you laugh nervously.

“Coconut? I will have to try that,” he smiles.

His phone dings after he finishes typing his number in, an old flip phone style you haven’t seen in years. The loose sleeveless shirt he wore left his lean muscles out on display. He catches you staring, smiling, “Well, nice meeting you, um…” he waits patiently for you to finish his sentence.

“Y/n.” you smile awkwardly.

“Hoseok. Maybe we’ll see each other around then? I will introduce you to my brothers.” He gives you a bright smile, tongue in between his teeth.

“Yeah, maybe.” You smile politely.

You steered your cart to check out, looking over your shoulder one last time, curiosity getting the better of you, watching him saunter away, alcohol and berries now in his cart.

Wait.

Why do you have only have one case?

---

As you unload your bags of groceries on the kitchen counter a sleepy Jungkook presses himself to your back, “Where did you go?”

“To get dinner. I thought we could make something from scratch,” you muse, “pasta with meat sauce?”

You turn and your smile slowly drops at Jungkook’s expression. “Jungkook....”

His grip around your waist tightens as his head lowers to your shoulder.

“It hurts,” you wince, pulling away.

“Why do you smell like that? Where did you go?!”

“Just to the store! That’s all,” you say, confused.

“Did you meet someone?!” He yanks your shirt closer, stretching the fabric.

“No! I mean, y-yes, there was-” 

“You let him touch you!?”

He looks furious, his chest rising and falling rapidly, anger radiating off of him. Jungkook could smell his scent running along the column of your neck. It made him see red.

“No!” you yell. “He wanted my help-”

Jungkook groans, turning away. He makes sure the front door is locked out of habit, even though a small lock wouldn’t truly stop them from entering. He runs to the window, using his senses to search for the same scent on you.

Had you been followed? Jungkook was sure of it, they knew exactly where you were and that you were alone. How long have they known?

“Jungkook, what’s happening?”

They're here.

“His name was Hoseok,” Jungkook says solemnly, looking over his shoulder to you.

“Y-Yes,” you swallow. “He said he was looking for a bar for his...brothers. But he was n-nice! Fuck, I should have kno–he even reminded me of you.”

“I’M NOT LIKE HIM.”

Your heart drops to the pit of your stomach in that moment, chest hurting from the weight of his words. “Just take a deep breathe, before something happens-”

“BEFORE WHAT HAPPENS?” Jungkook roars, “Before I turn into a monster?!”

You shake your head no, your hands reaching on either side of his face. You could feel his body shaking in anger against your palms. “No, I did not mean it that way, you’re not like them, Jungkook, you’re not.”

You rest your forehead against his until his breathing calms down. You did not know how to explain all the reasons why you loved him, and simply said, “I love you.”

His mood changes, leaning into your palm. “I’m sorry, I can’t stand it, the thought of any of them touching you...hurting you...” he takes in a shaky inhale, “I love you too.”

-🌖-

“Touch right there,” you point, taking a deep breath, “and it will call him.” You hand Jungkook your phone. “Ready?”

He nods and you hold hands while the line rings three times. A taunting voice you don’t recognize answers.

“Am I speaking to y/n…or Jungkook?”

“Stop, whatever you are planning, stop it. I’m warning you,” Jungkook growls.

“You know we can’t do that. Where ever you go, we’ll be there. We’re family, aren’t we? You can’t leave family behind.” The voice laughs and Jungkook grinds his teeth.

“He doesn’t want to live with you anymore, can’t you see that?” you interject.

“Doesn’t want to? We all do things we don’t want to. Do you think I want to be in this infested town? Entertaining the likes of you?” The voice’s sweet mocking tone turns dark and threatening so quickly it makes the bile in your stomach rise.

“Jimin, don’t speak to her like that!”

“Ooh, I’ve never seen our Jungkook so possessive,” another deeper voice speaks up.

“Over a human,” another one scoffs quietly in the background.

“He always had a soft spot for them.”

“But does she know, what he’s done to her kind?”

“Did you tell her, Jungkookie?”

There were too many voices, all speaking one after the other, until silence left everyone including you waiting for his answer.

You spoke up instead when Jungkook could no longer keep his eyes locked with yours, looking down shamefully. “Whatever he’s done in the past, it doesn't matter! Especially when it’s been under your influence!”

The group’s mocking laughter rings through your phone’s speaker. “What a loyal pet.”

It was another voice, one that hadn't spoken yet, one you recognize, one that haunted your nightmares still.

The man in the fur coat, the one who attacked you, spoke last. Everyone else stopped talking, showing respect to their leader.

“How are you feeling, by the way? It was a full moon last night, wasn’t it?” he says in a chilling mocking tone.

He tuts, “What are you going to do, Jungkook? You’re lost without us. You’re nothing. Acting like a human, it’s pathetic. Even she’s stronger than you now-”

“That’s not true.” you grit. 

“Pet, you know it is my blood inside you, not Jungkook’s. I’m inside you,” he laughs. You hang up, not wanting to hear anymore.

“They know where we live,” Jungkook says solemnly.

“It’s okay, we have all the things Miss Manyo gave us. They will work,” you reassure Jungkook. “You’ve gotten stronger too,” you whisper encouragingly, “They don’t know about that...”

-

“Is there a way to protect my home too?” you ask, desperately hoping for good news.

“You’ve already let a beast inside,” Miss Manyo says thoughtfully. “We would need another kind of spell-”

“He’s not!” you yell.

“He? Huh? I was talking about you, dear,” she says softly.

“Oh, I was not–”

“You have a beast inside you. It will have to be a different spell, I will have to search for one,” she sighs. “It will cost extra,” she says cheekily, trying to lighten the mood.

“I see…” you whisper, embarrassed you misunderstood her.

“You said ‘he,’ before, he’s there with you now, yes? The hmm wolf boy you found.”

“Yes,” you swallow.

“Okay, that will make things difficult, but not impossible! Here, I'm going to give you a list of items to ward off those pesky wolves while I see what I can do, just warn your friend to keep his distance, you might feel the affects as well because of your...condition, write these down...ready?”

Suddenly, your exasperated expression turns into one of excitement. You jump up from the couch, looking for a paper and pen. “Yes yes! Okay.” You scribble down a list of items while Jungkook looks over your shoulder.

“I used to vacation in the summer at that cabin when I was a little girl” she says wistfully, “I’m all too familiar with the legends of those woods,” she sighs. “That spell was cast long ago, but I might be able to recreate it...I can’t make any promises,” she warns wearily, “but I will try my best. The wards cast are old and powerful. Unlike things in this world, magic only gets stronger with age...like me,” she laughs.

“Thank you!”

---

“Jungkook, you have to let me go to work, if they were going to attack me like that, don’t you think they would have done it by now?”

The poor shapeshifter had made you late to work for the third time this week.

“They showed themselves, its only a matter of time before they try to hurt you! Please, take one of your ‘sickness days’, or let me come with you again! I will hide better!”

You sigh. You and Jungkook couldn’t live in fear for the rest of your life. You won’t!

“Or-” Your eyes widen, excitedly. “We could catch them first! We have everything we need now. Jungkook...are they the type to make a scene?”

-

“Oh my! Well well, so this is what they look like without all the fur.”

Miss Manyo circles Jungkook, enthralled. “You definitely have taken my advice on strengthening your human form,” she pinches a shell-shocked Jungkook’s cheek. “Right? Hasn’t he?” she whispers in your direction.

“Well, yes,” you tilt your head thinking, “but he has always looked like that.”

“Dear, I completely understand you now.”

“Heh heh, t-that’s not why-Oh! Are those-”

You notice two necklaces in her hands. “This one,” she holds up the silver chain with a green gem attached, “will protect the space as long as the wearer is inside, it was the best I could do at such short notice, sorry dear.” You nod. Right now you were happy for anything. Holding the silver necklace doesn’t hurt, only tickles your skin, but you can imagine how it might get uncomfortable the longer you wear it.

You’ll endure.

“What is the other necklace for?”

“This one,” she holds up a gold necklace with a red gem attached. “Is for him! That is, if he wants it,” she smiles.

“For me?” Jungkook’s eyes go wide in surprise and Miss Manyo sighs wistfully, completely enamored.

“Err what does it do?” you ask.

The old witch laughs quite deviously.

-🌗-

“This is beautiful,” you sigh, “Don’t you think?” You and Jungkook walk down the street after eating lunch at a new café. There is an entire block spanning with flower stand after flower stand of all colors. “Should we get some?”

“What do you do with them?”

“You look at them, I guess?” you laugh.

“But they are cut,” he flops the bouquet upside down, and thin tiny petals go flying, “They are going to die.” you send an apologetic look to the seller, pulling out your wallet to pay for the bouquet. Jungkook holds a bouquet up to his nose...and sneezes.

“Well, yeah, but we’re all going to die eventually, aren’t we? What’s important is appreciating the beauty of the moment,” you smile, hugging his side, grabbing the beautiful bouquet and admiring the flowers, “like being here with you.”

Jungkook kisses your cheek softly. “Next time can we get a bouquet with roots?”

You laugh, “Yes, definitely.”

-

“Not in public, Jungkook,” you shoo Jungkook away. Your boyfriend has become very touchy as of late. You did not think it was even possible for Jungkook, who always found a way to wrap himself around you.

You did not mind, but having his hands all over you while waiting in line for dessert pastries might be ruining the appetites of those around you! You laugh, moving away embarrassed. Jungkook kisses you one last time, standing stoic with his arm over your shoulder.

You couldn’t help but feel proud to have such a doting boyfriend, someone as kind and protective as him. It was you, who cuddled into his embrace this time, too happy to have him in your life.

By the time you chose your pastries, a strawberry cheesecake petit gateau for you and a meat and cheese croissant for Jungkook, it started to rain.

The sun was still shinning despite the rain, and instead of running for cover, Jungkook grabbed your hand and led you to a place you passed by on you search for the café.

“W-Where are we going?” you ask confusedly.

“I want to show you something! It only happens when it rains,” he says excitedly.

So you follow Jungkook in the rain, without an umbrella, without a second thought.

“When it rained like this, I would go to the lake in the woods, and watch the raindrops jump back up, look look!” he smiles, looking at the small pond, admiring the rain hitting the surface.

“It was calming,” he sighs, smiling to himself, unbothered by the raindrops falling down onto his clothes. “The others would sit with me and watch sometimes. We wouldn’t talk, just listen to the rain...drink...be happy...” he says smiling.

“Do you miss them?”

Jungkook stays quiet for a very long time. You sit next to him, throwing your head back and letting the raindrops sprinkle your face for the first time since you were a child. You listened to the rain, the steady pattern was soothing, Jungkook was right.

Jungkook thinks about the rare moments where he would play with the pack, laughing.

“No.” Those moments were nothing compared to every day sacrificing his humanity to please the pack, to make his leader happy.

Jungkook did not want to go back into the woods.

Jungkook wanted to live with you.

He wanted to be a better man. He wanted to be a man.

You notice Jungkook’s somber shift in mood. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned them.” You push the wet strands of hair out of Jungkook’s eyes.

“It’s okay, I’m happy, this is more fun. This is what I wanted,” he smiles, kissing your worries away.

Maybe it was because he always did it to you, or maybe you wanted him closer; you buried your head against the crook of his neck, holding him tightly, kissing the rain off his neck.

Jungkook closes his eyes, listens to the water and your steady heartbeat. A slow warmth starts in his throat, spreading down to his chest, vibrating in pit of his stomach. He loved every touch, caress, and kiss you gave him, but this...made him wild.

The rain showers down harder, clouds covering the sun. The plastic bag that held your pastry box was safe from the rain, your clothes however, were not spared. The spring dress you wore clung to all your curves, garnering all of Jungkook’s attention.

He picks you up abruptly, surprising you, arms wrapped under your thighs, pushing your short dress even higher up your widened thighs.

Your lips find his mouth, tasting his soft wet lips, and he deepens the kiss until you were breathless.

The rain tickles your exposed skin.

Jungkook held you like you weighed nothing, energized by his desperate need for you. He licked into your mouth, tongue pressing over yours in a performance of passion and dominance that left you panting and jittery with adrenaline and lust.

“Let’s go home,” you offer, wanting more.

“Why? No one is around.”

That was true, the rain was strong enough now that no one else dared to stay outside.

You pant, his growing hardness pressing between your legs affecting you more and more.

You give in. “O-Over there,” you look over to the treeline which would provide you with a little more cover from the rain and intruding eyes.

Jungkook looks around, the tiny park is empty and he can’t wait. He wants to take you here, out in the open.

The embarkment was perfect to lie your body against, pound you into the earth. Oh he wants to, desires so badly to claim you, lie your body on the grass and fuck you full of his cum.

You wiggle in his embrace until he drops you. You try to concentrate while his arms go under your dress, yanking you possessively closer. “Let’s go over t-there,” you moan as he fervently kisses your neck, sucking your soft skin and marking it.

“Oh f-fuck...w-wait!” You grab his cheeks, pushing his head away, so you can steady yourself.

There was an animalistic need in his eyes that made your body tingle all over. “Y/n, please,” he begs as he tries to nip at your lips again. His please was such a desperate low pleading murmur you felt your body surge.

“Catch me,” you kiss his lips playfully, before turning and running towards the treeline.

You bounced away, dress clinging thin to your assets. Jungkook felt his dick swell, an urge overtaking his body at the thought of capturing you in his arms, like an itch he always wanted to scratch, a filthy desire to claim you in the most animalistic way. Jungkook never gave in to that side of him, but his desires were too strong, his composure strung too thin, snapping all of his restraints.

He let you have what you wanted, a chase to a more secluded location, because he got to have what he wanted, you.

So sweet and soft you felt, your pretty voice whimpering such lewdness when he caught you, lifting you up in his arms. He held you against a tree, your legs back around his torso, and your inviting wet pussy stretching over his cock.

Jungkook did not hold back, ravaging your body, and you, too filled with pleasure did not mind his passionate digging touches. You grip the muscles of his back, adrenaline pumping through your veins, gasping into his mouth for more.

You'll take Jungkook in his sweet boyish charm and wild passion, you want all of him, just as he is.

-🌖-

“You look...”

“Yes?” you twirl in your light purple tulle dress.

“...cold,” Jungkook bites his lip, blushing.

“What!” you laugh. You admit the tulle skirt is cut in a way that shows off most of your legs, but this spring has been so hot!

“People will see,” Jungkook pouts.

“See what?”

“Your body,” he says. He hugs you close, gliding his mouth over every exposed bit of skin he sees.

“You’re the only eyes I care about,” you whisper breathlessly, unable to hide the way his ministrations affects you.

“Let’s stay home,” he says smirking wickedly, affected by your growing arousal.

“No!” you laugh. “C’mon,” you say, pushing your handsy boyfriend towards the door, “It’s tonight, we have to stop acting like prey and start acting like...monster hunters!” you wink, pulling on your white lacy gloves, picking up an array of silver utensils and pocketing them in your purse, the far cheaper option to the old century silver daggers Miss Manyo suggested.

---

“Do you want to dance?”

Jungkook grabs your waist, yanking you to his side, practically growling under his breath.

The stranger holds up his hands in surrender, “Sorry, sorry,” moving quickly away.

You sigh, wrapping your arms around you jealous partner’s neck. “Do you want to dance?” you ask Jungkook. “Do you smell them here?” you whisper.

Jungkook could barely think with the music so loud. He currently smelled a lot of things, unpleasant things at that; the rancid smell of alcohol everywhere, body order, vomit. He hated this part of the hunt his brothers would engage in. It was so hard to concentrate when there were so many loud noises and flashing lights. But he thinks, he feels, they are here, somewhere.

“How am I supposed to concentrate now?” he murmurs against your hair. You roll your hips into him again, laughing.

“Dance with me, ” you give him a teasing look and pull him on the dance floor. “You’re so stiff, relax!” you smile, pressing your body close to his “C’mon, we can’t be afraid,” you tease. You pull Jungkook to you, guiding his body with yours, until he breaks into a small smile.

You tried your best to relax him, letting Jungkook spin you and pull you back into his embrace, keeping your own worries to yourself.

You peered over his shoulder as you danced together, watchful, scrutinizing each dark corner, each sharp noise, ready.

“They’re here.” Jungkook whispers. You nod against his chest, scanning the dance floor.

You felt eyes watching you.

It felt like the forest all over again, except this time, dancing bodies instead of trees stood as obstacles between you and the beasts, and this time, you were not going to run away.

Instead, you held Jungkook’s hand and moved your way through the crowd where you were sure you saw a glimpse of those eyes that haunted your dreams.

“Looks like we meet again, y/n.” Hoseok walks right into your path, knocking into you. You stumble back into Jungkook.

Hoseok only moves closer, sandwiching you between them on the crowded dance floor. “Yes, that’s how it looks,” you swallow.

Hoseok sends you a deceptive smile. “Calm down Jungkook, enjoy the night,” Hoseok warns, looking to the man behind you.

Jungkook can smell them, see their movements out of the corners of his eyes. Three other bodies move closer, his brothers moving in at all angles.

You felt it too, looking over your shoulder just in time to see two men knock into Jungkook on both sides, hands yanking him back. Hoseok moves too, finding your abandoned wrists and pulling you into a dance.

“You, I can see being foolish enough to come here and challenge us, but how did you convince our Jungkook?”

Hoseok expected you to be emanating fear, but you were calm and collected. Jungkook, usually impulsive and tempered, was holding back as well. Well, as best he could, his anger on the brink of exploding.

“What makes you think that? We just felt like dancing.”

“Ahh, and the fact that this is the place you suggested means nothing?”

“Have you been coming here every night waiting for us like a dog waiting for its master? Sounds miserable,” you jab.

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” Hoseok mimics your detached attitude rather than taking the bait. “This is the best bar in town, so many young men and women here, all just so eager and willing, they don’t even put up a fight,” his arms wrap around you suffocatingly tight.

Jimin yanks Jungkook’s shoulder back as he tries to move towards you. There's a rumble in Jungkook’s chest, a swirling pit of rage and jealousy watching Hoseok's hands travel over your dress, disappearing under your tulle skirt to lay his hands on your skin.

“Don’t do it, or it will only get worse for her,” Namjoon warns, pressed against Jungkook's other side, surveying the dancing crowd.

Hoseok drops his head down, smelling your neck. “But you, you have something up your sleeves, don’t you? Please tell me you do, we’ve all been aching for another fight.”

“So you can lose again?”

Hoseok laughs against your skin. You’re covered in Jungkook’s scent, Jungkook had made sure of that every night and every morning, but your perspiration from the heat of the club let your own smell come through just enough for Hoseok’s liking. Hoseok took the opportunity to lick your neck, tasting your sweat on his tongue.

You shudder in his embrace, this felt wrong and menacing and nothing like Jungkook's sweet acts of scenting you. “There’s only four of you tonight? Where are the others?” ‘Where is that man who wore the fur coat?’ you think.

“Oh, they are here, enjoying the show,” Hoseok smirks.

“Take me to him then, the one who did this,” you nod down to your shoulder, where the smallest tiniest scar still remains of your bite.

Hoseok laughs, hands roaming your body again. “To our Seokjin? Sure, I owe you an introduction, right? Just one last thing-”

You tried to catch Jungkook's eyes as Hoseok traps you in his embrace, kissing you. You saw him, three men surrounding him and another moving suspiciously closer. You trusted that he could handle himself, even with such unfair numbers, just as you hoped he trusted you as well and did not lash out in anger.

Jungkook’s blood boiled. It was the angriest the pack had ever seen him. Jungkook cracks his knuckles as he watches Hoseok continue to do as he please, moving you further and further away from him. “Hey,” A voice speaks out to him from behind. “Why are you wearing gloves?” Taehyung asks.

Jungkook moves like lightning; like a bolt of energy trapped in glass, ricocheting off in every angle, that was how the furious shapeshifter behaved.

Luckily, his pack mates made themselves conveniently close. Close enough for Jungkook to hit them in the face with a small purple enchanted flower, a bag of poisonous wolfsbane holding a confusion spell from his admiring new witch friend.

Yoongi, who was close by, stepped back, but Jungkook who had been training his human body all this time, was now just too strong and fast for him.

-

You finally manage to shove Hoseok off of you as he pushes you into a corner. You fall against the velvet seating, your shoulder knocking into the one you had been looking for.

Seokjin isn't wearing a fur coat anymore, he’s in a white suite, jacket opened and shirt barely buttoned, showing off his strong wide build.

The crowd of dancing bodies and loud music provided them with the perfect cover, or perhaps everyone was too drunk and apathetic to care about their violent movements.

“I could kill you right now.” Seokjin says, fingers wrapped around your neck. “Remember when I told you, you would beg me for death?” He studies your features up close, smiling at your struggle.

Your fingers dig into his forearm as you try to inhale fruitlessly. He brings you closer to him, your face merely inches away from him, “Interesting.”

Seokjin could see the cool blue club lights reflected back into your eyes, but even under the lightning he could see a familiar shade of red in your irises. His ego believed it was because of him, you were now part him after all.

Hoseok cranes his neck over the crowd, “Something is wrong.” He turns to leave, nodding for approval from Seokjin who nods back.

You smirk despite being seconds away from unconsciousness.

Seokjin is intrigued. He abruptly lets go and you gasp in air, coughing, rubbing your neck. “You’ve missed one small tiny detail in your plan, pet.”

“Yeah?” you cough.

Seokjin grabs your chin painfully tight, turning your head to the exact spot Jungkook was. He looked determined, weaving through the crowd to get to the pair of you.

“You wanted to get me alone, but what if that was what I also wanted, to finally have you all to myself?”

You swallow, looking out of the corner of your eye to look one last time at Jungkook.

“Oh, he’s so close.” Seokjin’s arm snake around your waist, holding you tight. “Right there,” he taunts.

The pulsing bass felt like a ticking clock, you felt it hit you with each beat, like a row of dominoes, toppling over, closer and closer to destroying everything. And Jungkook was on the path to destruction.

Or was he?

Seokjin watches the youngest pack member disappear back into the crowd.

“I have a confession,” you look over your shoulder. Seokjin still sees red, a burning confidence in your gaze, “You’re not that scary in your human form to be honest.”

“Is that right?” Seokjin smirks, his arm now digging into your side painfully. “Our kind do have a certain look to us in this form that makes it easier to lure in prey.” He leans close to your ear, keeping his eyes on the crowd. “But I’ll tell you a secret too...I know you visited our little witch friend,” he says smiling.

“Afraid then?” you whisper.

Seokjin laughs, “Oh I like this version of you.” He grabs the hand that held your wristlet, making sure you could not pull out what was in your purse. “You should be thanking me, don’t you think? I could teach you, just like I taught Jungkook, how to make the most of your...situation. Just pledge the rest of your life to me and I’ll be willing to spare it, how does that sound?”

But the confident woman you are now was not because of him, nor this courageousness you felt. The strength you felt inside of you was reinforced not by pain or fear, it was all love, it was all Jungkook.

You might have melted down Jungkook’s walls when you were stuck together for the winter, but Jungkook warmed your broken heart, made you feel cherished and loved again.

Jungkook was the reason you fought so hard, was the reason you nurtured this new side of you. Every time you let her in, you thought of Jungkook, and you felt safe...

-🌑-

“There’s legends that talk about what happened to you, but who really knows what is fact or fiction.” She shakes her head, “I only know the spells passed down from my family and my coven.”

“So there is nothing I can do to control it?” you ask, disheartened.

“Well now I didn’t say that...”

-

Jungkook sits still as he watches your resting figure on the ground. He pulls out slivers of grass nervously while he waits.

Miss Manyo stirs some old dried red flower petals in a large jar of water, reciting an incantation.

“What’s that?” Jungkook blinks, smelling the strong fragrance from his distance. You wanted to open your eyes, but she was insistent you keep them closed.

“Moon water from the last blood moon.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“You ask a lot of questions, dear. You’re lucky you’re cute,” she teases. “I'm going to do this,” and Miss Manyo throws the entire contents of the water jar in your face.

“What the hell?!” You sit up, coughing out water, but you don’t see Miss Manyo anymore, or Jungkook. You don’t see anyone, because you’re not lying in green grass anymore. Your face and hair is no longer wet, but there's a chill in the air. The warmth of spring is gone, and so are you.

This familiar place is freezing, and yet when your finger tips drag along the winter snow on the ground, you aren’t cold. You breathe out a puff of smoke.

A twig cracks.

And the wind howls.

What are you suppose to do? Why did she bring you back here?

You stand up. Everything is quiet and snow falls steadily around you.

It's too quiet, the hairs on the back of you neck stand up, so you hurriedly stand up.

Another branch breaks.

You turn around suddenly, moving before you even realized what you were doing.

You see it, so far away yet so recognizable against the winter white.

And for those few moments, it feels like time stops still.

You have to make a choice.

You decide to run.

And the dark wolf, sensing your decision too, sprints forward, its paws kicking up white dust.

You take a hurried step backward.

Solid footing, to push you forward.

---

“Never,” you grit out. “I came here for answers. What did you do to me?!” You try to yank your arm out of Seokjin's grasp with all your might, yet you barely move in his grasp. “What has been happening to me?”

Seokjin thinks for a moment, looking away from you to look over the crowd again, like he’s buying time, but time’s up, you’ve bought it all up.

Screams of terror fill the club, there’s a crash, and another, and another.

A roar louder than the bass boosted music, louder than the screams and noises of the club, louder than anything you’ve ever heard erupts.

And a huge wolf appears from the crowd with a struggling man in its mouth.

“Sorry, Jungkook told me how you hated making a scene,” you smirk. You try to pull away from Seokjin, but he's stronger, lifting you off your feet as the crowd panics.

A group of drinkers knock into you both as they hurriedly try to get away from the enormous beast. You and the furious pack leader fall to the ground and it distracts Seokjin just enough...

You jump to your feet, quickly opening your purse before Seokjin reaches for you again. His nails dig into your scalp as you try to get away, pulling you back by the hair.

“Do you know what you have done? You have endangered us all,” Seokjin sneers, yanking you back harder.

“If you stay human, you’ll be fine,” you mock, “that is, if Jungkook doesn’t get to you first.” In that moment Jungkook whips his head, growling, throwing a bleeding Hoseok into the air.

You scream, “JUNGKOOK,” before Seokjin covers your mouth. Jungkook in his wolf form pounces over tables and bar stools to get to you.

Seokjin recoils his hands away, yelling in pain.

“Is that a...spoon?” he balks.

“Yep,” you hold it up happily. You throw it at his head, pushing through the escaping crowd. Seokjin chases right after you.

With every knock against your shoulder, you have to reorient yourself, losing precious distance. You see flashes of white moving closer and closer, Seokjin shoving to the ground anyone who dares to run into him.

“Jungkook!” you scream, running towards the farthest exit instead, where terrified drinkers disperse as Jungkook’s large wolf body course corrects. “Jungkoo-”

“Y/n!” Jungkook crashes into you, pulling you through the exit doors.

“Hold on!” you stumble, “I can’t run like this,” you pant, pulling off your heels.

“I told you to wear boots!” Jungkook and you start running again.

“I would have looked silly! No one wears hiking boots to a club, they would have noticed too,” you try to yell as you run. “This way!” You and Jungkook run towards the university. There’s tons of students around this area, they wouldn’t-

One shrill scream makes you turn your head, only to catch three large wolves barreling down the sidewalk.

“How long was that spell supposed to last?”

“I don’t know! I have more-”

“Your should have thrown the whole bag at them-”

Jungkook looks behind him. The wolves are catching up fast. “Should I-”

“No! Don’t transform. Follow me!”

There’s a park by the university, a pretty spacious piece of green land sandwiched between high-rises, with a few trails that veer off the lighted pathway, making a perfect hideaway.

“Go!” Jungkook tells you to hide.

“No, you go-”

“I stay. We have to keep our distance, I’ll find you,” Jungkook pulls you into a crushing kiss, and you relent, sprinting away.

Seokjin said he wanted you all to himself, but that was a lie. No, the pack leader doesn’t want you apart, he wants you and Jungkook together, so Jungkook has to watch, so you hold back.

-🌑-

And Miss Manyo throws the entire contents of the water jar in your face.

You sit up, gasping for breath, coughing up water.

“You did it.”

“No dear, you did. though you’ll still have to pay me,” she winks.

“Y/n?” Jungkook holds your hand, gripping it tightly to ground you.

You wipe the water off your face. Jungkook catches your eyes, holding your face to make sure he saw correctly-

You smile, falling into his arms.

---

“There you are.”

You catch your breath, leaning against a tree. “And who are you?”

An auburn haired man you noticed was one of the men holding back Jungkook steps out of the shadows. His body was beaten up, his hair wild, cuts and scratches across his face.

“Jungkook really beat you up.”

“You’re quite the nuisance,” he licks his lips, red eyes glowing in the moonlight.

You caught another pair of red eyes from a silver haired man, moving languidly in the shadows, his eyes glowing in the blackness of the night. One more, there should be at least one more, you think.

You expected it to be Seokjin, the leader, but you see blonde hair instead, frowning. It’s okay, it doesn’t matter, you have faith that Jungkook can handle himself.

“You don’t have to do this, you don’t have to follow Seokjin.” You push off the tree’s trunk, moving into the open space. The group encircles you.

“But we want to see for ourselves what makes our Jungkook so-”

“-Possessive.”

“-Why is he keeping you?”

“-Why won’t he share?”

“-Show us that trick of yours.”

“-What makes you so special?”

They spoke together, dizzying you with words.

It was easy for a woman in this situation to fall victim to men, but you had the kind of power that made them hesitate, waiting for you to move first.

“Haven’t you ever felt someone love you?”

Met with silence you can only softly laugh. “I guess not...that makes me sad for you. If you survive tonight, you should try...”

The trio stares daggers into you, red eyes glowing, their menacing presence piercing through you.

You heave a low sigh, looking up towards the waning moon, thinking of Jungkook.

You guess now, you looked the same kind of menacing, though you did not feel it.

Under the moonlight you just felt...

Serene.

And ready.

---

You watch Jungkook curl weights in your living room, your laundry only half folded, his heavy grunting and muscles flexing proving to be too much of a welcome distraction. He has taken the witch’s advice wholeheartedly, training his already strong body.

“Can you help me?” he asks, wiping off his face with a towel.

You blink, “Y-Yeah, what did you want me to...”

Jungkook lays on his stomach, “Come here,” he says as he moves in a push up position. “Now concentrate,” he laughs as you settle over him, your arms holding tightly around his chest. “You’re already being...distracting,” he grunts, smiling.

You can’t help but giggle, impressed by his effortless pace. You were having too much fun, cuddling against Jungkook’s muscular back as he lifted himself and you up and down.

“Do you think that, um, after we do this,” Jungkook grunts, “after we stop them, you think Miss Manyo will be able to turn me into a human?” Jungkook asks you.

“Oh, I-I don’t know, I can ask her if there is a spell like that?” you hesitate. “Is that what you really want?”

Jungkook lifts you up and back down, “Yes.”

You hum, “Jungkook...You don’t have to change yourself, I love you just how you are.”

Jungkook stays silent, his mind already made up. Up and down you go. “Okay, if it makes you happy, I just want you to believe in yourself, I believe in you.”

“I love you.” He grunts, moving faster and you giggle, hugging him close.

---

Jungkook can no longer see you or hear you. Good, you’re far away now. He transforms.

Three wolves find him. Hoseok, whose human form took the worst of Jungkook’s attack, growls louder, his wolf form bleeding profusely, staining the grass underneath his paws red.

Their leader is fuming, barking and spitting, ready to show the youngest why the others bow their heads to him instead, why no one challenges him, what a lovesick fool the youngest was being. Even on that fateful night, if you hadn't interfered, Jungkook would have been beaten, broken, had submitted as he should.

And tonight, you’re not going to interfere this time.

He sent Namjoon and Yoongi to deal with you. The oldest and stronger members of the pack. He would have sent Hoseok, but due to his injury the second youngest, Taehyung volunteered. With still two more nights before the full moon, Seokjin was confident those three could handle you.

The leader barks obscenities, ‘Foolish traitor.’ Lunging forward, his teeth sinking into Jungkook’s body as he starts his attack. Jungkook bites back, and Hoseok and Jimin attack, the loyal wolves tearing into his body. Jungkook whips his head around, catching Jimin’s nape, flinging the wolf away, using the advantage of his massive size.

It was a test of not only strength, but endurance. How much pain could Jungkook endure, how many attacks could his body withstand. It was vicious how they bombarded Jungkook with attack after attack, showed him no mercy for his betrayal.

Hoseok fell first, his injuries overtaking him. Jimin fell next, and it was only the leader and Jungkook left standing, their fur soaked in blood. Most of it Jungkook’s blood.

Jungkook transformed back into a human, panting, doubled over and still on all fours, fallen to his knees. “Give up, this is your last chance,” he pants, weak and tired, issuing a very unconvincing threat.

The beast bares his teeth, stalking closer.

The beast’s mouth unhinges.

Jungkook digs his hands into the ground, grinding his teeth, pain overwhelming him.

Seokjin aims his fangs at Jungkook’s head.

Finding what he dropped earlier, Jungkook pulls out a small silver instrument from the earth. It was not sharp, it was not deadly. It was a tool humans used not for killing or even hunting.

Jungkook stabs the prongs of a tiny silver fork right into the roof his leader’s open mouth.

And then takes a butter knife, stabbing the beast’s open wound.

Seokjin howls.

Taking the opportunity, Jungkook runs to find you, abandoning his wounded leader.

---

You run, searching for Jungkook. You could smell him close, your senses so heightened you could smell his scent mixed with a revoltingly overwhelming amount of blood. You ran faster, tracking his scent, worried for him, clawing through branch and even through trunks until you crashed into a body.

Fingers wrapped around your throat, blood dripping over his hands and onto your neck. “Now, you die,” Seokjin says. He looks delirious, maddened.

You nails pierce into the leader’s forearms as you growl back.

Seokjin roars, taking the knife still lodged in his shoulder, yanking it out. The handle burns his palm, but he doesn’t let go, too full of rage to care, pressing it against your chest, using all his weight.

You’re stronger.

You knock him backward, pouncing on him instead.

“Have you ever killed anyone, pet?” he grunts, wheezing in laughter. “But Jungkook on the other hand, he could tell you all about that.”

“Stop, you’ve lost, give up.”

“Kill me now because I’ll never stop,” he hisses. “but you’re making a mistake. Do you enjoy your life locked up in that building? To go work in a different building, aren’t you bored? Doesn’t it feel suffocating? You could roam the world with us, powerful, unstoppable.” Seokjin looks up at you smirking. Plus, where you went, Jungkook would follow, he was certain of that.

Seokjin is right, and he’ll never stop. You lessen your hold on the leader, leaning away. “Y/n, get away from him!” You look up, seeing Jungkook run towards you.

“I’m sorry, Jungkook.”

Seokjin smiles wickedly at Jungkook, sitting up with you in his lap. “I’m sorry,” you repeat. Jungkook will forgive you.

It was supposed to be for him.

“What did you put on me?”

You move away quickly as Seokjin struggles to pull the necklace off.

But the spell has already been cast, it can’t be removed. The red gem glows.

Jungkook rushes towards your side, helping you to your feet. “I’m sorry, I know you wanted the necklace for yourself.”

---

“What does it do?” you ask.

The old witch laughs quite deviously. “It gives the wearer the ability to trap his beast. It’s what you wanted, right dear?”

---

Seokjin stands up, wincing in pain, his legs weak and stiff. He yanks on the gold chain, inspecting the gem.

“What did you do?!” Two red eyes look back at him in the swirling gem, an echo of a howl resounds in Seokjin’s soul. “You think this will hold me forever!?” he growls in disbelief.

“You better learn how to defend yourself in your human form, Seokjin,” Jungkook says, leaning against you for support.

“Or do you believe your brothers will still obey a weak human?” you say, holding tightly onto Jungkook.

Barking at his back, five beaten and broken beasts pace around. Seokjin couldn’t understand them, gritting his teeth, searching for power he did not possess anymore.

They were without a leader, they were hurt, and they were angry he led them down this path.

Jungkook looks at the remaining wolves. “Does anyone still want to fight us?”

You hold hands, united, a stronger pack than they ever were.

-🌘-

Jungkook sneezes. You giggle. 

You and Jungkook are having a picnic, enjoying the park in the daytime together. He pounces on you, hugging you close, rolling across your picnic blanket.

“Is he going to stay there all day?” You tilt your head back, looking far, far...far into the distance, eyes zoning onto the very spot an inconspicuous (yet very conspicuous to yours and Jungkook’s senses) human man hides behind a tree’s trunk.

Seokjin peeks his head out, and noticing your attention in his direction, he quickly hides again.

“Probably?” Jungkook says, kissing your cheek. He nips at your neck, his full attention back onto you.

You look up at the sky, sighing softly. You could still see the large skyscrapers of the city still around you. You close your eyes, enjoying Jungkook’s sweet attention, smiling.

Seokjin was right about one thing, you did not feel like the city was for you anymore.

---

Let me know what you think, can you guess who leads the wolves now? :P What do you want to see in part three for summer?

[dearmura]

daydreamin'

☆ cw. reader uses she/her pronouns + is referred to as girlfriend, a teensy weensy bit of cursing, the reader is hit on by some creep at one point, not proofread

☆ pairings. non-idol! riki × fem! reader

☆ genre. fluff, strangers to lovers

☆ synopsis. summer would've proven to be monotonous, the greatest thrill being the audacity of the ice parlor's customers. that is until a new face walks in, leaving you daydreamin'

☆ a.n. enhypen exists in this au but let's pretend that riki isn't an idol for story purposes

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

"one scoop of mint chocolate ice cream, one of cookies and cream, one of rasberry, and one of chocolate in a sugar cone with rainbow sprinkles, chocolate drizzles and Oreos on top. and get it right, it's for my kid" they end with a forced smile, not even bothering to say please or thank you, not that you weren't used to it. sadly, you wish you could say that was the weirdest order you've gotten but, one thing this job has taught you is that kids, and parents alike, are weirdos. nevertheless you make the salty parent's order with a feigned smile and don't bother when they snatch it from your hands, throwing you the cash and not even bothering with the change

one would think that working in an ice cream shop in the hot summer heat would be ideal

if they didn't have the job, that is

but you were in no place to complain. while scooping questionable orders for ipad kids and karen parents all summer wasn't your passion project per se, it did help bring money in, money you desperately needed to afford tickets to enhypen's tour. with your unfortunate luck last year, you couldn't afford to not see them again this year. therefore, you were left to deal with a customer service job you hated where you feigned smile all day, motivated by the motto 'enhypen's worth it'

you wish you could say you at least made a friend in the process, though, your co-workers consisted of retired old folk who were too much of overachievers to at stay home and bask in their retirement money and kids around your age who you can only assume were too popular to be in your league

mentally cursing as the rude woman walked away, you compose yourself before serving the next customer who only makes you double take. a boy around your age with a height no one other than a k-idol could bear. he spoke in a low voice you'd be lying if you said wasn't attractive

"wow, that woman seemed really rude umm...y/n" he eyed your name tag before meeting your gaze, making you furrow your brows and shake your head on instinct

"no no no it's alright, I'm used to it" you reassure him. though, your answer doesn't seem very convincing to him. he frowns

"no, no it's not, no one should be used to that, I'm sorry" he apologizes, albeit, you don't know what for but, nevertheless, you nod

"thank you, babe. I'm sorry, what can I get for you?" you mentally curse at yourself for the term of endearment that slips past your lips. though, he doesn't seem to mind

"it's alright. actually, that woman speaking to you like that rubbed me the wrong way. what would you recommend, y/n?" he asked, looking at you with expectant eyes, which only make you blush

"um, I usually like to order a chocolate and vanilla swirl with rainbow sprinkles" you giggle a little

"it's the best of both worlds I guess, no need to choose a flavor when you have both" you reason, looking up at the boy whose eyes crinkle in joy. a warm laugh comes from the boy that only warms your heart

"valid. I'll take that then, please" he ends with a smile, which you return

"coming right up!" you say too giddily, as you turn around to make his ice cream you mentally curse at yourself for being so excited for no reason. though, you don't stop yourself from swirling the ice cream a little slower than usual to ensure his cone was perfect and a little higher than you're supposed to serve them

smuthering his cone in sprinkles, you hope he actually enjoys it considering you gave him extra of everything, not that he needed to know

"here ya go. that'll be $2.50, sir" you say, carefully handing him the cone, your fingers grazing his. your ignore the quickening of your pulse at the contact

"thank you so much" he hesitates a little before he continues

"and you can call me riki by the way, sir makes me sound way too old" he jokes, handing you a $5 bill as he laughes. nodding, you take the bill, your fingers failing to touch much to your dismay. upon handing him back his two bills and quarters, he doesn't even look before immediately placing them in the tip jar. thanking you again, he turns to leave, beginning to lick a stripe off his ice cream. though, you couldn't quite catch his reaction

as the door closed behind him, you catch your smile lingering a little too long for your liking. clearing your throat, you attempt to compose yourself, eying the clock until the very last minute. wiping down the tables and cleaning the ice cream machine kept you busy until closing. you wish you could say the thought of the sweet boy didn't entertain you through those last few hours but you'd be lying. in the back of your mind, you secretly hoped he would return soon

to let you know if he liked your recommendation of course...

✧

the next sale will begin in:

34 days 9 hours 0 minutes and 5 seconds

as if checking every hour would suddenly make them appear, you couldn't help but stalk the ticketmaster page, desperately waiting for seating charts, vip packages, or just prices in general to drop. with your entire happiness this summer being determined by whether or not you were going to enhypen's concert, you couldn't help but be utterly paranoid

with a heavy sigh, you peel your eyes away from your phone, dragging your feet slightly as you add the ingredients into the ice cream machine. as if the stress of ticketing and insensitive customers had not been enough, you'd been assigned the opening shift, a time you thought was ungodly to buy ice cream, but, you couldn't complain. overtime did mean more money in your pocket, so you opted to keep your complaints to yourself

as the day continued, you couldn't deny that the boy was on your mind again. even amongst tamer regulars, he was the one person you genuinely wanted to see

"um excuse me. I don't know why it's so hard for you to get it through your thick skull, but I ordered my ice cream in a waffle cone, not sugar cone" a woman spat out, shoving the cone in your hands before you could begin to unpack that statement

"I'm sorry ma'am but you ordered your ice cream on a sugar cone so I made it that way" you tried to reason, knowing damn well that she specified sugar, not waffle

"well the customer is always right! so quit the sass and do your j-"

"ma'am, I know this is none of my business but this young woman said she made your order to the 't,' so would you please have some human decency, admit your sorry, and leave her alone, please" the voice you'd been waiting yearning for all day rang out, interrupting the bitter words that came from the woman's mouth. looking up, your eyes meet his, which only give you a look of reassurance. completely stunned by his actions, the woman finds herself at a loss of words, grumbling as she stormed out of the parlor like a child throwing a tantrum

giggling as the door jingled behind her, he stepped forward, now directly parallel to you across the counter

"you never seem to catch a break, now do you?" he almost laughs, still amused at the woman's childlike nature. trying to keep your composure, you only shrug with a smile

"thank you, again. for caring I mean. you didn't have to do that" you insist, unable to meet his eyes, a little nervous being around someone you deemed way too out of your league. he only frowns

"y/n, this is only my second time meeting you but I swear if someone tries to disrespect you again, I will defend you towards the ends of the earth. who else is gonna recommend me ice cream flavors?" he ends with a teasing smile, which you only scoff at, ignoring the butterflies in your stomach at the implications of the beginning of his statement

his smile grows, a contagious expression which only reflects back to you

"speaking of ice cream recommendations, that was quite possibly the best ice cream I've ever had. when I got home, I couldn't stop thinking about coming back here. please share some more of your ice cream secrets, oh wise one" he teases, making you giggle. you ignore how your heart skipped a beat at the thought of him thinking about you like you had him

no

it wasn't like that

right?

you tap your chin comically as you think. the whole time, he bears an expectant look on his face, giving you his full, undivided attention, making you a little nervous if you do say so yourself

"you fancy me as a cookie dough kind of guy" you joke, playing along, making him smirk

"is that so?" he gives you an amused look. you don't miss the way his eyes rake you before returning to yours

"I'll take your word. I'll have that then, please" he smiles, sitting down on a stool in front of the counter, still parallel to you, watching as you make the treat

"so, if you don't mind me asking, what brought you here? there must be a reason why you wanna stay here even after all these fussy customers" he asks curiously, eyes never leaving you. as you scoop a few spoons of the cookie dough, you smile to yourself

"just trying to save up for a concert that's all" you tell the truth, opting to not elaborate, guessing he wouldn't care to ask anyways. your answer seems to pique his interest as he rests his chin in his hand, eyeing you with a curious look

"ooo what artist?" he questions, much to your surprise. you decide to tease the boy a bit, feeling oddly comfortable with him already though you just met him the previous day

"you sure do ask a lot of questions don't you? definitely cookie dough" you don't miss how he smiles to himself at your comment. he lifts his arms in defense with a warm smile

"got me there. now who are you seeing?" he continues. at this point you hand him his ice cream, making sure to add rainbow sprinkles on top. though he didn't ask for them, you did so nonetheless considering how he seemed to enjoy them the previous day. your guess seemed to be correct as his eyes lit up immediately

"oh thank you" *gasp* "how'd you know I love sprinkles" he takes a spoonful of the treat, humming in delight as his eyes shut, his head thrown back dramatically

"you're a genius, y/n, I swear" he says through mouthfuls of ice cream, making you laugh

"thank you, and, to answer your question, I'm seeing enhypen. have you h-" he immediately lets out a gasp, almost choking on his spoonful. bracing his chest, he swallows his bite before looking at you with wide eyes

"you like enhypen?" he speaks in a hoarse voice which you only guess is from the coldness he quickly swallowed. you nod questionably, still confused as to why he had such a visceral reaction. he throws his head back in disbelief before craning his neck back to face you, leaning forward over the counter, resting his chin in his hand once more

"I literally religiously listen to their music it's not even funny" he jokes, taking another spoonful of ice cream

"what can I say? only hot people love enha" you state, not even processing your words until they come out of your mouth. eyes widening, you immediately regret it after seeing him look up from his ice cream with a teasing smile

"so are you implying I'm hot?" he teases, cocking his head to the side as he raises his eyebrows, making you freeze, scrambling to come up with some witty response to save yourself

"well I was implying I was hot actually but I guess you're included in there too" you state, masking your nervousness with feigned confidence. he bursts into a fit of laughter, throwing his head back and clapping his hands, a habit you found way too cute for your liking. calming down, he wipes away the tears that formed in his eyes, giving you an approving nod

"touche, touche"

high from your sudden boost of confidence, you continue playing along, matching his energy

"so then you're implying I'm hot. touche, am I right?" you say with a look way too innocent for your intentions. giving him your best does eyes in an attempt to amuse the boy. you could see his act falter a bit as he scoffs taken aback by your words, low-key finding it really attractive

"if the shoe fits" he states simply, as if his words weren't going to replay in your mind the rest of the day and keep you up at night pondering their intentions. taking one last spoonful of his ice cream, he walks toward the counter to pay, immediately putting his change in the tip jar just as he did the previous day. before leaving, he didn't forget to bid you a goodbye, promising to come by the next day to see you

a jake stan you presume

✧

the next sale will begin in:

12 days 6 hours 0 minutes and 2 seconds

though the shop had it's flaws, one thing about it you adored was the days off. with every employee being part time, the manager decided to just give everyone a day off every week to meet the hour requirements for part timers. having a day to yourself to escape the antarctic temperatures and even colder people was essential

normally, you would have stayed home and basked in your ability to sleep in. though, you ultimately decided against it when finding out the local pool was open. now you weren't a fan of public pools, infested with children who fail to control their bladders. but, with your oddly good luck, you arrive at a time earlier than most head for a swim, ensuring the pool all to yourself

slipping your towel off your skin, you gently make your way into the water, hissing at the cold temperature. sighing in relief as your muscles seemed to relax, you bask in the sunlight. bracing yourself with your arms off the edge of the pool, you sway your feet up and down, almost like a mermaid. you laugh to yourself. suddenly getting an idea, you slide yourself into the water fully, gripping onto the edge of the pool with just your hands. dipping your hair in the water, you wip back singing "part of your world~" as water splashes all around you dramatically

as you look up, your smile slowly drops as a heavy blush takes over your face

"hey, princess" that same voice you found yourself replaying in your mind rang out just above you. he gives you a smile but you only widen your eyes at the name, making him suddenly go into a frenzy

"no no no, I didn't mean it in like a player, f-boy way. like princess as in princess ariel. and you were just ariel so I-" you only giggle at his panicked stage, finding him increasingly adorable by the minute

"are you gonna keep rambling or are you gonna join me?" you tease, suddenly getting confidence boost. you immediately pat yourself on the back when you see a blush take over his face. you pretend not to notice. he shyly slips his way into the pool beside you, albeit a few feet adjacent to you, only amusing you more

"don't worry, riki. I don't bite on fridays" you slip your sunglasses down your nose, giving him a teasing look which he only returns with a shy smile. for a few minutes, you two sat in silence like that. it was then when it finally occurred to you that your conversations never went beyond the shop. desperately trying to think up a conversation, he thankfully starts

"I really like ariel" he finally speaks up, meeting your gaze with an unsure look. you smile warmly at his comment. he continues

"my older sister, konon, had this bright red hair when we were little. I always told her she looked like ariel" he laughs at the memory, almost making you feel like you were there too

"I guess she kind of became my favorite Disney princess 'cause she reminded me of her. you know how younger siblings kinda idolize their big sisters at that age. and my little sister, sola." he smiles to himself "gosh she's a character"

"you and your sisters must be close" you say, orienting yourself to face him, giving him your full, undivided attention. he pretends not to be flustered by the sudden attention, nodding with a smile

"what brings you here by the way? I WAS planning on having the pool all to myself so you at least owe me an explanation" you joke. he hesitates a little before responding, refusing to meet your gaze

"well, I was gonna get ice cream butsawyouweren'tthere so I decided to come here to cool off" he mutters his words in the middle but you understand nevertheless. with a smile, you lightly push his side a little. you don't miss the way he tenses at the contact

"it's not like scooping ice cream is a skill. you could've gone in even if I wasn't there" you tease, seeing him smile to himself a little at your words

"I dunno, it's not the same without you there" he finally meets your gaze as he speaks. you panic a little at his confession

"ya! you ruined ice cream for me. now I can't have it without you" he complains dramatically, making you giggle. you don't notice his smile forming at your happy state

"well I'm sorry I let you down today. how about we have some now, my treat" you offer, seeing the glimmer in his eyes at your invitation. you can practically see the cogs turning in his head as he contemplates the right response. deciding to tease him further, you gradually climb the steps to get out of the water

"I'm not getting any younger~" he is immediately snapped out of his thoughts at your words. without thinking, he gently grabs your wrist, stopping you in your tracks

"it's a date" he gives you an unsure look, biting his lip a little in anticipation. you try to keep your composure but the look on his face was too priceless. giggling like a teenage girl, you shake his hand away playfully

"don't get ahead of yourself now" you tease, flashing him a smile as you run off playfully. searching for you things, you rummage through your bag in search of your towel. mentally cursing at yourself, you realize you had forgotten it at home. pouting at the implications of you walking around town all wet, you sigh

emerging from the water himself, riki quickly takes notice of your frustrated state. searching for his towel, he wordlessly approaches your wet figure

"may I?" holding the towel just before it made contact with your back, he gives you a warm smile. giving him a shy nod, you quietly thank him, not missing the way he tries not to touch you out of respect as he helps drape it around you

"let's go, yeah?" waiting for you, you stop dead in your tracks at his actions. inhaling, you didn't miss the boy's scent hitting your nose, soothing you. in a weird way, you felt a gravitation towards the boy you couldn't quite explain. felt so safe with him though you'd only met him not long ago. shaking your thoughts, you hold the towel around yourself, nodding a shy thank you before following him

upon reaching the ice cream parlor, he insisted you choose for him, requesting you "surprise" him. with a playful roll of your eyes, you order for the both of you, reaching for your wallet to pay only for him to hand his own bill to the woman behind the counter, much to your surprise. with a smile, he insists its his treat as an apology for interrupting your pool day

making sure to hand you your ice cream first, you thank him before you begin to walk. about to leave himself, the employee stops him before you notice

"your girlfriend is beautiful by the way, you're a very lucky guy" the old woman gives him a smile as she hands over the soft serve. blushing to himself a little, he returns her smile

"I know"

"riki!" you call after him after noticing he wasn't next to you. beckoning him over, he takes one last glance at the woman before running to catch up to you. smiling as he slowly reached you, your eyes catch an arcade down the street. both giving each other a challenging look, you wordlessly agree to head there

✧

"but you already bought me ice cream. that's not fair" you complain with a pout, refusing to let riki pay for your tokens. trying to stop him from inserting his bill only proved to be fruitless, using your height against you. raising it above his head, he smirks as he sees you struggle. fingers gripping onto his shirt as leverage, you use the other to futility reach for the bill. he masks his blush with a smile, pretending as if he wasn't internally screaming at your touch

"come on! you're holding up the line! just let your boyfriend pay already" a bystander stresses, causing a blush to come over both of you. suddenly aware of your proximity, you let go of the boy, stepping away as you let him slip the money into the machine. collecting the tokens, you two walk away together, trying desperately to hold your laughter but mutually breaking after only a few steps of silence

with a gasp, he immediately pulls you to two basketball machines adjacent to each other off to the right of the arcade. giddily inserting the tokens into their respect slots, you shoot him a smirk

"watch and learn pretty boy" you tease, knowing VERY well you were all bark and no bite. you can see his tongue poking at the side of his cheek, amused

"we'll see about that, babe" he challenges, his voice dropping an octave in a tone too attractive than you'd like to admit

as if on cue, the clock starts and basketballs roll down the ramp. your eyes widen at the boys lightening reflexes, immediately grabbing a ball. taking a gulp, you swiftly pick up a ball yourself, shooting and (thankfully) succeeding much to your surprise

with new found motivation to beat the boy, you keeping shooting, glancing over at his score every so often as you waited for balls to roll down. as if feeling your eyes on him, the boy turns his head, throwing you a wink

"this one's for you, y/n" he says in a voice you assume was supposed to sound flirty. rolling your eyes, you watch as he dramatically dribbles the ball, flicking his wrist as he throws it only to completely miss the net. a wide-eyed look comes over his face, absolutely crushing his ego. you can't help but burst out laughing, doubling over as you brace yourself against the boy

soon enough, the buzzer goes off with you two only making a couple of shots, not that you cared. eyeing the scoreboards, you smirk. turning to the boy, you bat your eyelashes mockingly at him, rubbing your win in his face. with a smile, he accepts defeat, satisfied enough by seeing you have a good time. with a giggle, he watches you flaunt the tickets you won

with a gasp, you tap the boy excitedly, pointing toward a claw machine just a few games down. you (of course) take the opportunity to tease him

"if you get me something from there, maybe we can all forget about that excuse for a shot back there" you cock your head, giving him a challenging look. he hates the way your attitude worked wonders on his mind. how it makes it much harder to resist looking at your lips. how it turns his mind into putty and makes him eager enough for your attention to instantly take you up on the offer. though he would've done it anyway if it meant your happiness

"which one do you want?" he asks, scanning the plushies for himself, mentally playing a guessing game of which you would choose. as soon as you laid eyes on the machine, you knew exactly which one you wanted. with a smile, you happily pointed to a little duck plushie. he gives you a questioning look but inserts the tokens nonetheless

being places in be middle of two games, the claw machine had only the facet facing you visible. combined with his tall frame, you found it hard to watch. with a pout, you searched for a way to observe him play, eyes lighting up when you see an opening just in front of the boy

slipping just under the boy's arms, you feel him freeze a little before resting his chin on your forehead, continuing to jut the switch "strategically." the same feeling took over yourself. you were nothing to him but why did it feel right to be this close to him? why did you feel so safe at this proximity and crave more than just the contact of his chin on your head?

your thoughts are interrupted by him pulling away, much to your dismay, shouting in celebration at his win as he happily danced around like a child. swiftly grabbing the duck plushie from the slot, he handed it to you with a smile, which you only returned

"okay, okay, I'll forget about that lame shot. thank you riki" you smile, eyes lingering a little too long as they meet his. giving you a playful nudge, you giggle as you watch him feign annoyance. hugging your duck plushie, you hold it up next to his face, using your other hand to caress your chin in a pondering manner

"hmm there's definitely a resemblance" you tease, looking up at the boy who only gives you an unamused look. you giggle as he pouts a bit, further proving your point

"you're too cute" you say with a laugh, only further annoying him

"not cute" he mumbles under his breath, crossing his arms like a child, earning a chuckle from you

"if you insist my little duckie" your voice raises in a teasing manner toward the end, already sensing his annoyance growing

he was too easy

"oh you're gonna get it" he threatens with a scoff too attractive for the situation

"not if you can't catch me~" you tease, running off before he could realize it, searching for a hiding spot amongst the neon lights and laughing crowds, face lighting up at a perfect spot just behind the basketball machines. being on a slant, you'd be under the upper portion of the game, giving you enough space to hide without being too claustrophobic

you almost laugh at how childish you were being but he didn't seem to care, eagerly searching for you through the crowds. with the spot in sight, you try to slip your way through the many people huddled around the arcade machines, running as fast as you could. your tunnel vision didn't seem to take notice of a quite everything in front of you, though. you immediately stop in your tracks at a figure in front of you just before you ram into them

"hey hey what's the rush pretty girl?" a boy around your age stood before you, a smug look on his face. your breath quickened a bit. for some odd reason, you couldn't help but feel disgusted at his words. like they were wrong to hear. like you were betraying riki in a way but letting the boy very obviously flirt with you. flashing him a fake smile, you try to slip through the crowds to lose him but he persists, taking hold of your arm with a vice grip

"let me go!" tears start to well in your eyes in fear, no one seeming to notice. scanning the crowds of people for the boy seemed futile

"relax, babe. we can talk this over somewhere else, yeah?" he smirks, starting to drag you toward the door. hot tears roll down your eyes as you try shaking his grip away

"hey! she told you to let her go" a familiar voice appears. with a hopeful look, you lock eyes with riki whose face bares a petrified expression. you can see the pain in his eyes as he feigns a confident look

"and who are you?" the stranger asks bitterly. you see him hesitate before he speaks, giving you a look beforehand, almost an 'im sorry'

"she's my girlfriend, so if she told you to let her go, then let her the fuck go" his voice shakes, his anger not masking his fear entirely, but you suppose the boy doesn't notice, immediately letting go of your arm, lifting his arms defensively before walking out the door

as your eyes finally meets riki's, his gaze softens, enveloping you into a tight hug. hit with the gravity of the situation if he weren't there, you cling to him, letting your tears dampen his shirt as he holds your head, massaging your scalp

"I'm so sorry I let you out of my sight, angel. I promise it'll never happen again" his voice was soft, his breath tickling the shell of your ear as his arms never left your side. you ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the name, too focused on his warm hold seemingly washing your worries away. cupping your cheek, he looks into your eyes with a soft smile as he rubs soothing circles onto your skin as he gently wipes a tear away

"how about I take you home" he whispers, looking down into your eyes as he towered over your figure. nodding wordlessly, you let him lead you towards the door, hand still around your waist, too afraid to let you go. you knew by now he was a man of boundaries, one of respect. but he couldn't bring himself to leave your side. placing a hand over his on your waist gave him the reassurance he needed that he had your consent

in that moment, you realize he never corrected himself when he addressed you as his girlfriend

you didn't seem to mind

walking through the streets as he led you home, you couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. the fact that a bystander would probably mistaken you two for a couple and you wouldn't correct them. you couldn't help but shake the thought that you could get used to it

upon reaching your door, you could see the hesitation in his movements, slowly dropping his hand from your waist. he scans you before speaking, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear

"are you sure you're okay, y/n" his voice softens as he searches into your eyes for any sign of discomfort

"never been better" you smile, slipping your hands around his neck, embracing him as an expression of your gratitude "thank you." you close your eyes as you squeeze him tighter, knowing he would never truly know how grateful you were for him through words alone

"my pleasure" he watches intently as you pull away, pulling your keys out to unlock your door. as your back faces him, he can't shake the one thought he had on his mind, couldn't let you slip away from him once more. with a gentle grip on your wrist, he pulls you back into his arms. hands coming up to cup your cheeks, he tilts his head, lips colliding with yours

for a second, the world stopped, the only thing running through your mind being the sweet taste of vanilla on the boy's lips. as the reality hits you, you follow his movements, tangling your fingers through the boy's soft locks. you feel a hot tear roll down your cheek, feeling utterly complete at the contact you've been craving for too long. as if this very moment answered all of the burdening questions and doubts that previously ran through your mind

and just like that, it got stripped away from you

he pulls away abruptly, eyes shifting frantically as his hands came up to his hair, pulling at the strands you once touched. you can hear his breath quicken as he speaks

"fuck, fuck, fuck, I didn't mean to do that. I didn't even ask for your consent. you were just hit on by some creep and this is what I do. God, I'm such a horrible person" you hear his voice shake as he paces back and forth

"please don't hate me" he locks eyes with you. only then do you see the streaks of tears rolling down his cheeks and the bloodshot nature of his eyes

"oh, ki, I could never hate you" tears begin to well in your own eyes. you attempt to approach the boy, cupping his cheeks in reassurance. he only feels disgusted with himself at your actions, feeling as if he manipulated you to feel that way. knowing you would never feel the same as he did you, he mutters an 'im sorry' before leaving

in that moment, it was as if every foot away from the boy was another one you'd never get back. you wish you could blame someone, something, but you couldn't shake the feeling that you were part to blame. like sand, you let the boy slip right through your hold. only the remnants of what used to be remained, leaving you completely empty

✧

the next sale will begin in:

8 days 18 hours 9 minutes and 26 seconds

"one scoop of mint chocolate ice cream, one of cookies and cream, one of rasberry, and one of chocolate in a sugar cone with rainbow sprinkles, chocolate drizzles and Oreos on top. and get it right, it's for my kid" they end with a forced smile, not even bothering to say please or thank you, not that you cared. every day felt like an endless loop, a time without meaning ever since the boy left you that day. how much you wished to see his puma eyes and tall figure walk through those glass doors. how you wish you could've hugged him tighter that day, then maybe he would still be here with you

forcing a smile became increasingly difficult. anybody could see you were at your breaking point. as the days passed and the voicemails accumulated, it felt as if you deserved to be ghosted, deserved the rude treatment, only pulling yourself through the day by pure muscle memory

eyes flickering to the clock, you began to lose hope that the boy would ever walk through those doors again. taking your last order, you greet the family goodbye with a feigned smile before you heave the heavy mop onto the tile floor emotionlessly. hearing the bell at the door ringing, you take in a sharp breath

"sorry we're closed" you force out, not even feeling like feigning a peppy voice. hearing a pair of shoes shuffling closer, you clench your jaw, ready to break at any point. looking up, your eyes meet the ones that have kept you up on sleepless nights, haunted your thoughts

wordlessly, you run to the boy, not even bothering to stop the tears from streaming down your cheeks. immediately doing what you dreamt of doing these past nights, you tiptoe to reach the boy, cupping his cheeks softly and letting his lips meet yours. your breath hitches and you taste the saltiness of your tears as you feel the boy's soft lips you missed dangerously. letting his forehead meet yours, you whisper painfully

"please don't leave again. please, ki" you breath out, interlocking your fingers in his hair as you did that day

"I promise, angel. I promise. I'm so sorry for being such a coward" you only shush the boy, relishing in the warmth you missed oh so much. you let out a breath you didn't know you were holding when his hands find purchase on your waist. you can't help but think the fit was too perfect for it not mean to be

"angel" he whispers sweetly into your ear, making your breath hitch. you only hum in response, not wanting release your hold on him just yet

"will you be mine?" he caressed your cheek softly as he whispers. you only giggle through tears

"only if you come see enha with me" you smile, leaning into the touch. wiping the tears from his cheeks, he chuckles

"you got yourself a deal"

fin

author's note: I hope you can tell I love angst but only to a certain extent cuz this one lasted a grand total of 5 seconds😍

also this is my first longer fic so pls let me know what you think!!! I would really appreciate it<3

@hachimarii 🤭🤭

[alicentsgf]

Let's talk in depth about book Alicent. because even though i read the book 3 years ago I didn't engage online about it until the show's release and um. wow. some people have a very different interpretation of her to me. and also... some of those interpretations show a fundamental misunderstanding of the text, a tendency toward indulging the misogyny present in Fire and Blood, or both.

People are saying the writers changed Alicent's story to 'make her a victim'... they didn't. It was always possible to read the book and perceive that she was in many ways a victim. Honestly the biggest thing they changed was her age, probably to assist the interpretation they'd chosen, but the larger elements all stay the same; in both versions she's worked in service of the crown since she was young (as a type of companion either to Jaehaerys or Rhaenyra) and she and Rhaenyra initially have a good relationship (according to one source in F&B - this supposedly changes when Aegon was born and not named heir). So making it Rhaenyra we see her close with just makes the emotional tethers that might have been there anyway more visible. After all, Rhaenyra Does spare Alicent's life in F&B, and whilst she says it's for Viserys sake, Alicent at that point had been at the very least complicit in the deaths of most of Rhaenyra's children. Rhaenyra having such a strong former bond with Alicent is going to give this event in the show a lot more weight. It's not hard to see why they made this change, because it adds to the existing tragedy of the story.

The fact is everything we see of Alicent in F&B is up for debate to some extent. Like, for example, did she seduce Viserys? of course certain sources tell us yes, but Fire and Blood is brimming with asoiaf-typical misogyny; it all reminds me somewhat of the story of Anne Boleyn, her story molded into something unrecognisable by history in order to make her the instigator. In truth, we have no way of knowing if Alicent wanted Viserys or not, but we do know she probably didn't have to seduce him. She was widely regarded as being the most beautiful woman - it wouldn't have taken a lot for Viserys to notice her. People, characters and readers alike, assume that because she wasn't the best political match he must have been persuaded, but Viserys was a selfish man, (that is indisputable, we see it in many of his provable actions), so it fits with his character to choose a slightly unsuitable wife on the basis of his own lust. The age gap in the show only serves to demonstrate visually the power imbalance that was at least somewhat present in the book anyway. And yes, this like most things in the book is up for interpretation, but I will say this: I seriously do not respect people calling her 'evil'.

The text never presents Alicent as evil. Even in the worst of her actions she is never legitimately shown to revel in the pain and suffering of others. At most you could argue she was ambitious, but I don't even believe that on the basis of one specific thing: it was her, not Otto, who asked Viserys to betroth Aegon to Rhaenyra. This was not a crazy suggestion in the book, as it was presented in the show; they were only a decade apart, and it was the Valyrian custom that the eldest son would marry his eldest sister, as Aegon the conqueror married Visenya. Alicent wanted this without stipulating the expectation that Aegon would rule instead of Rhaenyra. Viserys reportedly dismissed Alicent on the basis of believing she only wanted Aegon a step closer to the throne, and it can be read that way, but personally I don't think so. I think she was exhausting options to try to protect him after she realised Viserys was never going to name him heir.

Ultimately, Alicent would have been stupid to ignore that her children's lives were at stake. Especially in Fire and Blood where she was much less familiar with Rhaenyra. Nothing in Rhaenyra's actions suggested she wouldn't be capable. She reportedly had no affection for her brothers where she was kid enough to Helaena, suggesting she already saw them as threats. She had demonstrated herself willing to accept physical harm to them in favour of her own sons. She was later thought to be at least complicit in the death of her husband Laenor, who had by all accounts been a good, kind husband to her… and then she married Daemon. Even before this he had been an obvious threat to Alicent's children; a violent man who'd always lusted after power, with a known hatred for Hightowers and who'd never been kind to his nephews by Alicent. Even if Alicent didn't believe Rhaenyra capable of murdering her sons, she would have been stupid not to believe Daemon able.

The truth is even in the book this crisis was set in motion by Viserys. Once he'd refused to marry Aegon to Rhaenyra the bomb was built and ticking away, it was only a matter of time. Even if Rhaenyra's heirs had been indisputably trueborn, Aegon and his brothers and any descendants they had would have been symbols for those who wanted to oppose the Crown to rally behind as soon as Rhaenyra or Jacaerys disappointed them, no matter if Alicent's sons had personally bent the knee. The situation only became more dire when it was clear that Rhaenyra's heir was not trueborn.

Fire and Blood isn't even really quiet about Rhaenyra's first three sons being bastards. To me it read like Rhaenys' Baratheon blood allowed those who wanted to believe otherwise to delude themselves, as Viserys does in both versions. After all, in the book Laenor being gay is an open secret. But the thing is… it doesn't even really matter if they were or not. With so many people believing they were bastards, they were pretty much as good as. Eventually, and most definitely after Rhaenyra's death, there would have been some form of conflict. Because if Jace, an assumed bastard, ascended the throne it would throw into question the claims of almost every lord in Westeros, many of whom would have older bastard brothers. and if a bastard who didn't even look targaryen could sit the highest seat in the realm over a trueborn silver-haired son of a king like Aegon, what's to stop the bastard brothers of any lord from laying claim to their seat? Aegon would have become a rallying point for that dispute whether he liked it or not, and Jace would have been forced to dispose of him if he wanted to maintain power.

In light of this, it's really no wonder Alicent repeatedly voices her animosity over Rhaenyra's sons questionable births. It's very telling that in F&B every cruel comment she reportedly makes about or to Rhaenyra references it. and I say "reportedly" because one of the worst of her quotes, her saying 'mayhaps the whore will die in childbirth' about Rhaenyra, people quote as fact… if you do this I will laugh in your face and ask if you read the book. because Alicent did not say that. or rather, if she did, Fire and Blood would not be able to tell us either way because the quote is attributed to her by Mushroom, one of Rhaenyra's supporters who (apart from being a famed liar) was with Rhaenyra on Dragonstone at the time.

The other two quotes used to argue her supposed evilness are from slightly less questionable sources, and honestly, yeah, it does seem likely to me Alicent implied to Rhaenyra her bastard sons' blood was worth less than that of her own trueborn sons'… but at that point, with the horror she'd experienced on account of Viserys upholding Rhaenyra and her sons' questionable claims, her reacting in this way is perhaps cruel and prejudiced, but not evil. And almost justifiably cruel in my opinon; for all she knows the woman she's talking to directly ordered for her six-year-old grandson to be brutally murdered in front of her, her daughter, and her other grandchildren, directly leading to her daughter's madness and later suicide. Was she going to be respectful? Is it fair to expect that from her? This focus on the term 'bastard blood' overshadows the rest of the quote: “Bastard blood shed at war. My son’s sons were innocent boys, cruelly murdered. How many more must die to slake your thirst for vengeance?” Why is Alicent being a bit of a bitch treated as a worse sin than Rhaenyra ordering the brutal murder of a toddler, or at the very least excusing it.

The last quote mentioned to back up claims of alicent's 'evilness' is her telling her granddaughter Jaehaera she should slit the throat of her husband Aegon III in his sleep. By this point it seemed to me Alicent was no doubt consumed by bitterness and would have attacked Aegon herself given the chance, but even without condoning her words or actions we can see how she became like that; all of Alicent's sons are dead and she wants all of Rhaenyra's gone too. Wasn't it "an eye for an eye, a son for a son"? - Rhaenyra's side set the precedent - the idea that it is justifiable to take one innocent life in exchange for another, no matter if its the life of a child who just happens to have been born on the other side of a war.

Alicent by the end of her life had certainly been driven to cruelty in her grief, twisted into something ugly by the world and locked away to rot.

And yet her final words weren't steeped in bitterness or violence. When the fever sets in she accepts death, even welcomes it. She speaks of seeing her children again, and King Jaehaerys. So doesn't that say she was never driven by hatred at all? That there was never any kind of innate evil nature? At least that's my interpretation. This is the same girl who spent her youth reading to a dying king for no clear reward, and felt such affection for him that she mentioned him at the end of her own life, perhaps pining for the time before her marriage. (No doubt in the show she will mention Rhaenyra instead). This is the woman whose daughter and grandchildren visited her with such reliable frequency her grandson's killers knew to wait in her rooms for them.

So what was so evil about her? That she quite understandably saw Rhaenyra and her sons as a threat, and preemptively acted to protect her own? As much as people like to project ideologies onto these characters, neither Alicent nor Rhaenyra's motivations were ideological, that much as clear.

I may have many reservations about House of the Dragon's execution of it, but the decision to present Alicent as a victim of the world she inhabits was not only the right choice, but also kind of the only choice. HotD is presented as objective truth, where F&B is a collection of biased accounts dripping in the misogyny of the men relating them, and so HotD had to be a critique of its own source material. I admit to having my own bias, and my analysis is at least slightly skewed in Alicent's favour because I'm responding to the most negative interpretations of her. And they are all just interpretations. But in my opinion, those adapting the text looked at Alicent and asked "what if this woman is misunderstood?", "what if this woman had no real choice?", "what if the men of this world just chose to ignore her complexity, because she was a woman?" and those were absoutely the questions to ask.