#fanfic reblog party

[edupunkn00b]

Happily Ever After / Logan-Janus-Roman-Remus AU

Between the AU polls and the reblog party, I’ve realized I never built an actual complete post of every story in this universe and it's proving… daunting. AO3 has it all, and I will update this post as I go with Tumblr links to all the stories, as well.

Happily Ever After

Objections (Chapter 2 is currently only on AO3)

And I Feel Fine

What Might Have Been

Remy & Emile

Arizona's Journal

Fathers' Days

A Part of the Family

Butterfly Stories:

It Could Always Be Worse and The Uses of Adversity

Overruled

After Jack

[edupunkn00b]

This is the heart behind fanfic reblog party 🥳 I’ve already seen two new ones hit/continuations that came out of just a couple days, too.

Please keep reblogging your stories (or other people’s) and tag me! I’ve got a few more in the queue but it’s slowing down a bit.

Then reblog what you find under #fanfic reblog party!

want your favorite author to update but don’t want to be too pushy in their comment section?

here’s 5 things you can do to encourage them:

Reblog their fic link on tumblr (bonus if it’s with tags)

Bookmark the fic with a note about what you’re excited about/love in the fic

Recommend the fic to your friends or local discord channel

Draw art or create other media for the fic (as indicated by the author’s comfort level)

Leave them a comment when re-reading about the parts of the chapter/story that stood out to you the second time

[commisionofhumanrightsapparently]

DOES ANYONI HERE LIKE DC COMICS AND MCR KILLJOYS PLS RESPOND PLS PLS PLS

[partypanic]

Are you really a hlvrai fan if you haven't cried over it atleast once

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

And finally (at least for now) a series I'm really proud of!! @edupunkn00b

Faeries In The Forest

Virgil promises Roman a day where they'll do whatever he wants, even if that means spending the day hiking in the forest.

When the pair stray from the path and find themselves lost, Virgil worries that it might be the end- that is until they meet a seemingly friendly fae who promises to lead them back to the path free of charge...

----

| AO3 | Second Part |

Warnings: Panic attacks, minor references to manipulation and enslavement but nothing actually happens.

Pairings: pre-established Prinxity, implied anaroceit (as a note nothing is actually said straight up, but these are the intended ships)

Word Count: 6971

Notes: I really want to write more of this so expect a part two at... some point I'm not very good at writing fast... considering I've written like four fics in this fandom now I'm wondering if I should start a masterlist... Anyways enjoy!

They were everywhere. That’s what Virgil had always been told, they lurked in the trees and in the water, they waited on street corners and outside stores. They walked dirt paths and cobbled streets, everywhere you look they could be waiting.

Be careful, they said, to not give your name to strangers no matter how trustworthy they may seem, no matter what they offer you in return. Names hold power. Don't eat their food or step into their circles either, because it's all an elaborate trap.

There were many things to remember about the fae, all of which Virgil had had drilled into his head from the moment he was born, from his parents, his teachers, the shopkeeper, even the barista in the coffee shop had gone on a tangent when he was fourteen, while he was making his coffee.

Of course, there was a reason for these stories, rumours and such, people going missing, Hell, a girl in his sixth grade class- Marie- had disappeared one day, and since then he had listened a little more carefully when the adults told their stories. He had grown up in a small town in the middle of nowhere right on the border of a thick forest from which people rarely came back, and often they came back changed.

To say the least, Virgil had been overjoyed to leave that town behind, having moved to the city to attend university. He shared an apartment with another student who he’d met right at the beginning of the semester- not exactly the scenario he had been hoping for, but he’d realised pretty fast that he didn’t have the money for rent, so having Roman move in with him was the only choice he had really.

Speaking of Roman, Virgil had been wary of him for a long while after they’d moved in together. Roman had been confused when Virgil refused to give Roman his name, and didn’t understand the charms Virgil had up around the house. Even now that he was away from his hometown, Virgil wasn’t about to be lulled into a false security just because it was a city. Eventually, though a lot of persistence from Roman, Virgil had opened up to him, told him his name, and luckily nothing had come of it. 

In a place like this, a busy city where you could see a hundred people in just one day, a regular person might forget about the possibility of the fair folk. There was no forest on your doorstep, just a park and trees planted on the pavement at equal intervals. If you asked, most people around here would say that there was no way that fae existed, people would say that they were just a scary bedtime story to keep children in line, or even if they were superstitious, they might say that they were safe here, further away from nature. But Virgil knew better. Fae were everywhere.

—-

“Hey Virge!” Roman yelled, running down the hallway towards him, waving a paper around dramatically, “I got it!”

“Princey,” Virgil nodded his head with a huff, turning and starting to walk and trusting Roman to catch up and start walking at his side, “You did?”

“Yes!” Roman cried, “Oh I’m so excited! I got the part I wanted!”

“Well done, can we go home now?” Virgil asked with a huff, he had been waiting out in the hall of the theatre- he’d promised to wait to support his friend- and he was starting to get paranoid. He didn’t like being out in public for so long, he couldn’t help it- and he was almost out of spoons for the day. 

“Oh come on hot topic! We should celebrate!” Roman grinned, though his smile fell when he saw Virgil’s face. 

“I’m sorry Princey,” Virgil said as they left the theatre, heading towards the bus stop, “I think I'm all out of spoons, but uh- I have a free day tomorrow… I know you do too, we could- I mean- eugh words,”

“Take your time,” Roman said as they sat down to wait for their bus, he took a moment to glare at the timetable, "We certainly have time to spare," 

“Just- Whatever you want to do, we’ll do it tomorrow, ok?” Virgil promised, “And hey, it’s your birthday next week, consider this a celebration for that too, so um, I’ll go along with whatever you want to do tomorrow,”

“For the whole day?” Roman asked, looking hopeful, Virgil understood at least a little, he usually didn’t like being out of the house longer than required for his lectures or his job, so of course Roman was interested, “Even… if it involves the forest?”

Virgil considered backing out then and there, but he'd promised, and he knew that Roman had wanted to go hiking in the woods an hour from town for years, though he'd never wanted to go alone. Virgil hated lthe idea of going into the forest, but… maybe it wouldn't be so bad with Roman, and they'd take precautions, it… should be ok.

"It's alright if not," Roman said, though he sounded slightly disheartened, "I know you hate the idea of going off on a forest adventure - I can choose something else-"

"No," Virgil interrupted, "No we- I said whatever you want, so the forest it is,"

"Yay!" Roman said, happily clapping his hands, "I'll make sure everything is perfect for you ok? We'll bring a picnic and- oh you make me a list of everything we can bring that'll help you feel safer and we'll bring that too- oh and-* 

"Princey," Virgil patted Roman on the arm, gently pulling him from his ramble, "We can get everything together once we get back home,"

"Right, right! You're right," Roman nodded, though he was obviously trying to contain his excitement- Virgil could see it in the way his leg bounced and his fingers tapped out a rhythm on his thigh. He hoped he was making the right decision.

As they were waiting for the bus in comfortable silence, a stranger wearing a hat that shadowed their eyes joined them on the bus stop, immediately Virgil felt the wave of suspicion that always came from being near strangers. He tried not to look creepy as he glanced at the guy every now and then, turning one of his protection charms over and over in his pocket as they waited.

"There's the bus!" Roman announced way too loudly, making Virgil jump before he stood up. Sure enough their bus could be seen from down the road. 

The stranger didn't get on the bus after them, and Virgil tried to push them out of his mind as he and Roman spent the evening preparing for their trip tomorrow. 

—-

"Here we are!" Roman grinned as the forest finally came into view, they'd already been walking for half an hour since the last spot where the taxi was willing to drop them off, Virgil brought a hand to fiddle with the pendant around his neck as they approached the tree line.

"We're finally here! I'm so excited, aren't you excited V?" Roman said, with the level of energy that Virgil could only compare to one of those puppies that never stops going. 

"Woah, you're going to tire yourself out before we even reach the trees," Virgil huffed, walking with his hands out of his hoodie pockets for once, though he had a fidget cube in hand, one Roman had handed to him as they left this morning.

"Oh shove it Robert Downer Jr," Roman rolled his eyes, but did slow down a little.

"... alright," Virgil said with a deep breath, "Here we go, as long as we stick to the path… everything should be fine." 

..

They managed to stick to the path for all of twenty six minutes before- upon hearing the sound of a stream nearby, Roman had immediately veered off the path with a call to Virgil that he was going to find it and of course Virgil had gone after him. For some odd reason, he'd rather be lost and screwed over with Roman than alone on the path in the woods. 

When they'd turned back from the river to find the path again, it was as if they were in a completely different part of the woods, no path to be found. 

"I told you!" Virgil said pacing as he tried to stave off the impending panic attack the only way he knew how, by being angry, "I told you not to leave the path and what do you do! You leave the goddamn path! Now look at where that got us-" 

"V, I-" Roman started, only to be cut off by Virgil's rambling. 

"And now we're lost somewhere and I don't know how to get out and we're in the woods and- and- anything could happen and I can't believe I agreed to this! I should've said no! I knew this would go wrong I knew-" 

"V- I need you to breathe," Roman instructed, trying to keep his voice soft, he had taken hold of Virgil's wrists without his notice, "Just take a deep breath,"

Virgil did as instructed, before Roman led him over to their bags and handed him a biscuit. Virgil nibbled it gratefully.

"We still have the map and the compass," Roman said, "I've already checked my phone and there's no signal, but the compass will work, and hey, at least we have each other, right?" 

"Yeah- yeah you're right," Virgil said, taking a deep breath, "Sorry for snapping at you," 

"I get it," Roman waved him off, before unfolding the map, Virgil peered over his shoulder, "Well uh- here's the river but… it says the path should be right here…"

"Well, the river comes out of the forest here," Virgil pointed to the map, "so if we just keep following the river southeast we should reach the edge of the forest no matter where we are right now," 

“Ok, ok good, right,” Roman nodded, grabbing their compass, “I… I’m really glad you’re here, V,”

“Huh?”

“Yeah uh- I think I’d be screwed if this happened to me alone,” Roman said quietly, Virgil shrugged.

“Me too, so- we’ll call it even I guess,” Virgil smiled, “Which way?”

“The uh… the compass is going haywire…” Roman said, eyes going wide as he watched the compass needle spin uselessly round and round and round… 

“Perfect,” Virgil said sarcastically, “So we’re stuck with no clue which way to go?”

“Seems like it,” Roman shrugged. 

And not only that, but it was just about noon, so they couldn’t even use the sun. 

“So I guess we just…” Roman glanced around, “Well choices are to stay here or start walking, so… which should we do?”

“Well- ok- it’s 50/50, so… i guess we’ll start walking, I don’t want to be here when it gets dark,”

Roman visibly shivered, “Same, lets go, we can eat on the way,”

—

“Princey!” Virgil cried, grabbing the back of Roman’s jacket and yanking him back hard enough that he toppled over onto the grass, Roman fell on top of him.

“V! What the heck was that for?” Roman cried, Virgil took a couple of deep breaths to steady himself before standing up and pointing at something in their path.

“Look, mushrooms,” Virgil said, leaning forward to see better, “It’s a faerie circle,”

“You pulled me over because of a couple of mushrooms?” Roman asked, standing up and dusting himself off. 

“It’s not just a couple of mushrooms, princey!” Virgil hissed, “If you step inside the faerie who owns the circle could trap you forever, idiot,”

“Oh jeez, well that doesn’t sound too great,” Roman huffed, “Thanks then, I guess,”

“You’re welcome,” Virgil huffed, looking at the circle thoughtfully, “How are we going to get around it?”

“Uh- we could just go around the edge?” Roman said, phrased as a question, “It’s a pretty big circle though,”

“Yeah… I don’t want to lose sight of the river…”

“That does sound bad,” Roman nodded, “And the river is pretty deep here too so we couldn’t walk through the water…”

“I don’t know if we could climb the tree and get over it- I’m not sure if it works like that…” 

“You could always just go through,” Said a new voice, making Virgil jump so much he crashed into Roman’s side, thankfully Roman was able to catch him so they didn’t fall again as they both turned to face the stranger. Virgil stared at them, eyes wide. 

The stranger wore a bowler hat, which made them look incredibly fancy. Their face was angular, all sharp like it had been chiselled from stone. They had pointed ears, chestnut brown hair that fell to their waist, held back and intertwined with delicate looking yellow flowers. His eyes were stunning, one a deep shifting turquoise that reminded Virgil of the ocean and the other a piercing yellow, with a slit pupil like the snake. Not even to mention the beautiful golden scales that covered half of his face, this stranger was very obviously fae, and if Virgil took a guess he’d say that the circle they stood next to belonged to this fae in particular. He had to elbow Roman to stop him from gawking after he’d managed to shake himself out of the same daze.

“Um, hello,” Virgil said, trying to seem less awkward than he felt, the faerie raised an eyebrow and smirked, “We’re just- passing through, we won’t be here for long if- uh- if we disturbed you or anything,”

“No bother, darling,” The faerie said with a grin, Virgil noticed fangs, “Really, I’m only curious what two lovely mortals are doing so close to my ring, say, might I have your names?”

“I’m R-” Roman started, before Virgil turned and slapped a hand decidedly over his mouth.

“You can call me V,” Virgil said, “And you can call him Prince, excuse my abrupt actions, he can act an idiot sometimes,”

“You are a smart one, V,” The fae said, taking a step forwards, “You two can call me Deceit,”

Roman licked his hand and Virgil couldn't help but yell.

“Ew prince what the hell!” Virgil yelled, snatching his hand back and wiping it on his shirt, Deceit just raised an eyebrow, Virgil mentally thanked whatever deity was out there that the fae seemed amused rather than offended, “That’s gross, you’re gross,”

“You weren’t letting me speak,” Roman said with a pout, “Hi Deceit, Isn’t that a kinda ironic name?”

Virgil facepalmed.

“How so?” Deceit asked, both eyebrows raised now, Virgil thought he may as well just ask the guy to kill them now.

“Well… fae can’t lie, right? At least V says so, and your name’s Deceit- which is all about lying!” Roman said, pointing as if his statement was an accusation.

“There are many ways to deceive that don’t involve outright lies. darling,” Deceit smirked, stepping even closer, he was close enough to touch now and he did just that, reaching forwards and trailing a finger down the bridge of Roman’s nose, Virgil’s heart sank as Roman’s face went red.

“Now is not the time for this, your royal gayness,” Virgil huffed, rolling his eyes. 

“Oh, as if you’re any better, sweetheart,” Deceit turned to him with a coy smirk playing on his lips, the fae’s fingers traced a path across his cheeks, and Virgil felt his cheeks heat up no matter how hard he tried to fight it, Deceit was… really pretty, and way too good at flirting.

“Look um- we just got lost, and we’re trying to figure our way out of the woods by following the river, if we could continue on our way…” Virgil said slowly, trying to pick out words that hopefully wouldn’t offend the faerie, that was the last thing he could possibly want from this. Deceit almost looked disappointed.

“Oh but I was having such fun,” Deceit sighed, “Won’t you two let me accompany you, at least? So you don’t have any run-ins with… less amicable fae? I can guarantee you safe passage through the forest, if you want it,”

“And what exactly would that cost us?” Virgil asked, “Not to sound suspicious but… nothing ever comes for free with the fae,”

“You’re smart to be cautious, little one,” Deceit whispered, walking around them and dragging a hand across Virgil’s shoulders- and then Roman’s as he went.

“I don’t know what you’re so suspicious about V, he seems very nice and he’s offering to lead us through the woods!” Roman smiled, leaning into where Deceit was now cupping his cheek with a delicate hand. Virgil quickly grabbed Roman’s hand and tugged it gently.

 “You know why, Princey, just because you’re gay and he’s cute doesn’t mean he’s trustworthy,” Virgil huffed. 

“Awe you think I’m cute,” Deceit smirked at him, Virgil huffed, “So how about your journey, then?”

“You never answered my question,” Virgil said, “What will it cost us?”

“You really think so low of me, my darlings? I’m sure your company will be payment enough,” 

“Yeah right so you’ll take us back to the city in exchange for what? Us keeping you company until we get there?” Virgil asked, “What’s the catch,”

“No catch, promise,” Deceit said, taking one of Virgil’s hands and one of Roman’s, smiling as he gently but insistently tugged them around the faerie circle. Virgil huffed, but let himself be gently pulled along. The fae had promised, which definitely meant something. But why would he promise there would be no catch? Weren’t fae supposed to be tricksters? Weren’t they supposed to make deals and promises and snatch mortals and such? Why was this faerie being so… generous, it didn’t make any sense. 

At least Roman was enjoying himself. He had decidedly kept hold of Deceit’s hand after he had let go of Virgil’s, and Roman was happily chatting away about theatre and art and whatever on earth he could find to talk about. Thankfully Deceit seemed interested in entertaining him, or at least the way he continued to hold his hand and bump against his side every so often made it seem so. Virgil was happy enough to trail along behind them, listening in to make sure Roman didn’t say anything too stupid.

Until apparently that wasn’t enough for Deceit.

“V, darling, why don’t you join us instead of trailing behind like a shadow, hm?” Deceit called, looking over his shoulder, “I’m sure you have some interesting stories to tell too.”

“Oh no, not really, I’m just your boring old emo who works at a coffee shop and otherwise never leaves his house,” Virgil shrugged, though he did jog forwards so he was just shadowing Deceit, rather than walking a few paces behind, he wasn’t going to argue with a faerie.

“Well that can’t be right,” Deceit shook his head firmly, “The way you dress seems to tell a story all on it’s own, surely you have something worth sharing,”

“No I… I really don’t,” Virgil said almost sadly, he shook his head, “Princey is much more interesting than I am, why don’t you um- why don’t you keep listening to his stories?”

Deceit stopped walking and Virgil did too, immediately worried he’d offended the faerie, but Deceit just cupped his face gently, leaning close enough that Virgil could feel warm breath fanning on his cheeks.

“You say you’re so uninteresting,” Deceit said softly, “But everyone has a story to tell, even if you believe you don’t… there’s always something,”

“I’m not sure anything I have to say would interest someone like you,” Virgil said quietly, looking away.

“Oh be quiet, V, he was interested in hearing me ramble about my musical theatre roles! No-one wants to hear me ramble about musical theatre!” Roman said, patting Virgil on the arm, “Talk about your music!”

“Music?” Deceit asked, full of curiosity, he turned to keep walking, but kept hold of one of Virgil’s hands this time, “Tell me,”

"Well I-" Virgil huffed, "I don't really like talking about it, but I produce music I guess, though I'm self published so it's not going so far at the moment…"

"You should hear some of the music he's made," Roman said with a grin, "It's amazing,'

"I would love to hear some of it, darling," Deceit smiled, linking their fingers more firmly together, Virgil blushed.

"Well um- I don't exactly have my guitar with me, so…" Virgil looked away.

"A shame, surely," Deceit sighed, "I'm certain you would have a lovely voice,"

"Like an angel," Roman said almost dreamily, "But like, a dark and stormy one,"

"Shut it, princey," Virgil muttered.

"No, no let him speak, I would like to hear you sing," Deceit said, brushing a hand through Virgil's hair. He jumped, because Deceit was still holding both Roman and Virgil's hands- he wasn't prepared for the faerie to have a third hand.

Virgil shook his head to clear his thoughts, embarrassed about the idea of Deceit hearing him sing, the Fae were known to have beautiful voices after all and he was sure he'd never compare, "I um- I'd rather not… if that's ok…"

"Later, then," Deceit said surely, as if there would definitely be a later.

"Aren't you leaving once we get back to the city?" Virgil asked, confused, because as far as he was concerned, they'd never see this faerie again after he left. 

"Did I say that?" Deceit said mock thoughtfully, "You may have to remind me, I seem to have forgotten," 

Virgil spluttered for a second before taking a breath and trying to string the correct words into the right order, "You promised no catches,' 

"I wouldn't say him accompanying us home is really a catch," Roman said with a smile and a shrug, well, at least Virgil knew he wouldn't be getting any help from his roommate any time soon. Deceit had him wrapped around his finger. 

"I'd just like to spend a little more time with you both," Deceit said, ruffling Virgil's hair, "You're both obscenely adorable, and very very interesting," 

—-

"Could we stop for a break? We've been walking for what feels like hours, " Roman practically whined, by the looks of the sky, they really had been walking for a long time, the first streaks of the pink sunset were beginning to light up the sky. Virgil groaned. 

"It's getting dark…" He said, wrapping his arms around himself. He didn't want to show weakness in front of Deceit, but he also really didn't want to be trapped in the forest at night. 

"Maybe we should stop for the night? Set up some kind of camp?" Roman asked awkwardly, they hadn't brought any camping equipment with them, and all they had for a blanket was the picnic rug they'd packed. 

"You needn't be worried," Deceit told them, coming to a stop in a small clearing, "You should be safe from anything else roaming the forest with me here," 

"...right?" Virgil nodded, not trusting the uncertainty that the 'should' left them with, "So do we stop or keep going?" 

"It would be unwise to travel at night," Deceit told them, "We will stop," 

Virgil nodded, hunching his shoulders and glancing around at the trees, they suddenly looked a lot more sinister, As Roman and Deceit started to bustle around the clearing, Roman looking to see what they had left over from lunch- thank goodness Virgil had asked to bring some extra food- and Deceit using some sort of magic to make the clearing nicer. As time passed Virgil didn't move, he simply became more and more uneasy.

"Hey V?" Roman called from across the clearing, Virgil's head snapped up with a short breath, his eyes darted around again, when had it gotten so dark? And who had built the campfire? Why was it so cold…? "Are you ok there buddy?" 

Virgil tried to breathe, but he looked around at the trees again and another wave of panic hit him, it was getting so dark now, it would be easy for something to reach out from the shadows and grab him, drag him off with a hand over his mouth so that he couldn't scream, they probably wouldn't even notice.

"I'm gonna hug you, ok?" Roman asked, a lot closer now, Virgil nodded and felt Roman's arms wrap themselves around him, he buried his nose in Roman's shoulder, drawing comfort from the only familiar thing around. He and Roman had done this so many times before, Roman hugging him while he panicked, it helped, it really did. But here, Virgil still felt vulnerable, with the forest at his back.

“What’s going on here?” Virgil heard Deceit’s voice from somewhere to their right, Virgil shifted, worried, but his tone sounded concerned, rather than accusatory. 

“V is panicking,” Roman said, squeezing Virgil a little tighter when he tensed slightly, “He doesn’t like forests, or the dark, all that much,”

“I see, does this-” Virgil could assume he gestured to them in the pause, “-Help?”

“Usually yeah, V?” Roman asked, Virgil just shook his head into Roman’s shoulder, “Not this time though, somethings still stressing him out…”

Deceit hummed thoughtfully, before speaking softer than Virgil had heard all afternoon, “May I hold you as well?”

Virgil hesitated, but slowly nodded. After a moment, he felt a presence at his back that made him flinch, something was coming for him- he knew it!

“It’s alright sweetheart,” Oh, it was Deceit, Virgil suddenly felt really stupid, “You’re safe, we’ve got you,”

Another pair of arms wrapped around him, this time from behind, he felt Deceit’s nose nestle in his hair, Virgil repressed a shiver, he felt Deceit smile. 

“Any better?” Roman asked, chin on Virgil’s shoulder.

“A little,” Virgil whispered, tightening his arms around Roman, Deceit hummed, and another pair of arms wrapped themselves around his middle.

“That's good,” Deceit practically purred, nuzzling his hair, Virgil sighed, leaning more heavily on Roman.

“Woah,” Roman huffed at the added weight, “I might be strong, but I can’t hold up both of you,”

“It may be best if we sit down, that is if you want to continue in this way,” Deceit said, pressing a kiss to the top of Virgil’s head, this time he did shiver. 

“Well I- I guess it is cold out, so- that might not be so bad…” Virgil muttered.

“Admit it, Hot Topic, you’re just as gay as I am,” Roman said with a grin, Deceit chuckled. 

“Come, let us sit by the fire,” Deceit said, drawing away just to take Virgil’s hand, gently pulling him, and thus Roman, towards the fire pit that had been set up, he lead them to a surprisingly comfortable bed of moss that Virgil was certain hadn’t been there when they arrived at the clearing. When had that gotten there?

“It’s so cold,” Virgil muttered, pulling his hoodie jacket closer around himself, scuffing his foot and hesitating to sit down, “We should light the fire…”

“How do you light a fire?” Roman asked, glancing around, “I’ve never been camping before,”

“I didn’t pack a lighter or matches or anything,” Virgil said sadly, scuffing his foot, turning back to the fire only to find it lit and burning away happily, Virgil glanced at Deceit, who just smirked at him.

“I’m summer,” Deceit said. By way of explanation, Roman looked confused, but ultimately shrugged and sat down on the moss.

“That would explain why you’re so warm,” Virgil said quietly, sitting down as well, Deceit grinned.

“If I’m so warm, and you’re cold, why aren’t you over here?” Deceit smirked at him, Virgil sighed, pulling his knees to his chest.

“You’re deceitful charming tricks won’t work on me,” Virgil muttered, looking away.

“I’m not trying to trick you, sweetheart,” Deceit said softly.

“He has trust issues,” Roman stage whispered, Virgil glared past Deceit at him, before shuffling a little closer to the fire and staring into its centre, the crackling sticks, Roman wasn’t going to stop spilling his secrets to the faerie, so he may as well not bother. Roman had never been good at keeping secrets, so really it had only been a matter of time. 

“He was kinda like this when we first met too,” Roman explained with wide gestures, “He wouldn’t tell me his name for the first three months we were living together, even though I did everything he asked to prove I wasn’t a faerie the first week we met, so um, I can imagine he’d have more issues with you- because- you are- you know,”

“An actual faerie, yes,” Deceit nodded, “i am aware,”

“Sorry,” Roman said with a cringe, “V’s just… I’m not sure why but he struggles to open up to people,”

“It is understandable,” Deceit said, before gesturing to himself, “Considering,”

“What’s so wrong with fae anyway? You’ve been really nice to us this whole time,” Roman asked, shuffling a little closer to Deceit and looking at him as if to ask if it was alright, Deceit smiled softly at him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.

“I am not your average faerie,” Deceit hummed, trailing a pattern across Roman’s shoulder with his gloved fingers, Virgil watched the movement from the corner of his eyes, covered by his hair, “V is right to be wary of us, most would have tried harder to take your names or lure you into their circles, or make a deal and trick you, there are many things I could have done that I didn't, that many others would have," 

"So why didn't you?" Virgil asked bitterly, "What's so different about you?" 

“I… don’t really know,” Deceit shrugged, “I suppose I was simply… intrigued by you both, and it does ring true that I have been lacking in adequate company as of late so… it seems that perhaps fate brought the two of you to my circle, I wasn’t about to waste that, now was I?”

Virgil huffed, he wasn’t sure what to do with that answer, he shivered again, even with the warmth of the fire close by, the forest was still all around him, no shelter, no safety, no security…

“I’m not gonna be able to sleep,” Virgil said instead of answering.

“Are you not tired?” Deceit asked, “You look exhausted,”

“Thanks,” Virgil glared, “I’m too anxious to sleep, my brain won’t let me switch off, I’m too jumpy, too vigilant, do you need more reasons?”

“I didn’t think humans were supposed to be this afraid all the time,” Deceit said quietly, Roman shifted.

“They’re not,” He said almost sadly, Virgil curled further into himself.

“I get it, ok,” Virgil snapped, surprising even himself, his anger was more directed at Roman than Deceit, of course, Roman was the only one who was talking about it really, “I know it’s weird that I do my courses online because I hate leaving the house, I know it’s weird that I refuse to wear a nametag at work, I know it’s weird that I barely talk when we’re around other people, I know I don’t like to talk about myself or start conversations, I get that it’s not normal, I know being so anxious about everything isn’t normal just- leave me alone,”

Virgil turned around so his back was facing them, he wasn’t about to cry- he wasn’t. Where the hell had that outburst come from? 

To be honest, he knew it really had been a long time coming. Roman tried so hard to make sure he was comfortable, but he never really understood, he didn’t get why Virgil wouldn’t want to go to the campus or meet his friends, he often put pressure on Virgil to come and watch his shows or go to some party- he didn’t understand and he never would, because Virgil was different. At least in the little town he grew up in his superstition wasn’t questioned, now, living in the city, it seemed like everything about him was out of place.

“Would it make you more comfortable,” Virgil choked on a sharp breath as he heard Deceit’s voice right next to his ear, he didn’t lift his head from his knees- he wouldn’t let the faerie see him crying, Roman was one thing, Deceit was a whole other, “If we continued travelling through the night? We’re close enough now that we’d reach the border in just a few hours,”

“You- you said it was more dangerous,” Virgil forced out, “Don’t- don’t want to put Princey in danger…”

“Hm,” Deceit said, the grass crunched next to him and a warm hand was pressed to his back, between his shoulder blades, despite the spike of fear he first felt, he found the hand rather comforting, grounding, “I possess the means to protect you both from anything we might come across,”

“I-” Virgil said, before trying to take a deep breath- it stuttered on the way in, “We need to- to rest…”

“So you’d be more comfortable staying here?” Deceit asked.

“Think so…” Virgil nodded, “We have- we have light here,”

“Alright then, we’ll stay,” Deceit nodded, “Would it help settle your nerves if I kept watch while you and your prince attempted to sleep?”

Despite the situation, Virgil found himself blushing furiously, “He’s not- he’s not my prince! He- I- We-”

“No need to get so flustered, darling, I’m only teasing,” Deceit said, smirk carrying through his voice, “My question?”

“You’re- oh, uh… not really,” Virgil admitted quietly, “I still don’t trust you not to stab me while we sleep,”

“Hm, I plan to keep watch regardless, so, in that case, would you like to join me in watching over your… friend?” 

“Yeah I- I guess that works,” Virgil nodded, finally lifting his head up and hastily wiping the tears from his cheeks, Deceit didn’t comment and Virgil was… really glad about that.

Roman fell asleep with his head in Deceit’s lap, with the faerie running fingers through his hair not even ten minutes later. Virgil still sat a little ways away, knees still tucked to his chest, but he was looking out into the forest now, making sure nothing was going to come for them. 

“Is he always this- touchy?” Deceit asked, voice quiet even though it sounded loud in the surrounding silence.

“I’m glad to have a break,” Virgil answered with a huff, Deceit raised an eyebrow, “Yes, he’s always like that,”

“And you?” Deceit asked.

“Me?”

“Yes,” Deceit nodded, looking over at Virgil, his scales glinted in the light of the fire, and Virgil was captivated for a moment, “How do you feel about touch?”

“I uh- well I guess I’m more reserved than Princey, uh- I don’t really like being touched by people I don’t trust, especially strangers,” Virgil said with a shrug.

“But you allowed me to help when you were overwhelmed earlier,” Deceit pointed out, “And didn’t seem bothered by my touch otherwise, yet you continue to say that you don’t trust me?”

Virgil realised he’d been backed into a corner, albeit what seemed to be a padded fluffy one by someone who really didn’t seem to want to hurt him. 

“I just-” Virgil said, before sighing, “I don’t trust anyone, really,”

“I will not harm you,” Deceit said, meeting his eyes, “And I will do my best not to let anything else do so either,”

“That… helps, a little,” Virgil whispered, “Fae can’t lie,”

“Does knowing that help?” Deceit asked, twisting Roman’s hair into a braid as he spoke, almost as though he didn’t realise he was doing it.

“Yeah,” Virgil nodded, “When you say definite statements like that, at least.”

“I shall aspire to do so more, then,” Deceit smiled at him and goddamn it Virgil was so gay- so gay, “Would you like to come over here? I swear not to hurt you.”

Virgil hesitated, but eventually gave in- he really wanted to hug the faerie, even if he wouldn’t admit it. He shuffled closer and Deceit wrapped an arm around his shoulder. Virgil sighed happily and dropped his head onto Deceit’s shoulder- he was so warm- he felt the faerie chuckle more than heard it. 

“How many hands do you have,” Virgil questioned quietly as a third hand brushed through his hair in a way that was so comforting. 

“Six,” Deceit said with a quiet laugh, “i’m surprised you didn’t ask sooner,”

“Didn’t wanna offend,” Virgil murmured as the hand around his shoulders squeezed him a little tighter, he felt another hand around his waist, settling on his hip.

Deceit hummed, “Just relax little one, I’ll keep you safe.”

Despite his previous hesitations, Virgil found it easier to relax now, he was surprised to find that he really did feel safe. After barely any time at all, he fell asleep.

—-

Virgil awoke with a yelp to the sound of a bird cawing way too close by to be a pigeon outside of his window. He heard a sharp hiss before the bird screeched and seemingly flew away. 

“What the fuck,” Virgil muttered, blinking his eyes open only to find he was looking at the morning sky, the sunrise making the clouds pink and basking just the tops of the trees in a warm light. The events of yesterday came back to him in an instant and Virgil groaned, flopping back onto the cool grass, he was going to miss his lecture this morning.

“Stupid creature,” A voice hissed from somewhere to his right, literally, it sounded almost like a snake- if a snake could talk, he heard the bird caw again, further away this time “You woke him up, you fiend, yes get out of here, I don’t want to see you again until you think about what you’ve done,”

“Shut up,” Virgil slurred rolling over, “Wanna go back to sleep,”

“I brought you breakfast,” The voice- Virgil placed it as Deceit’s, it certainly wasn’t Roman’s, “If you want it,”

“Not eating faery food,” Virgil said tiredly.

“Told you,” Roman said from somewhere across the clearing, “He won’t eat it,”

“V, you’re going to be walking for a few hours and you havent eaten anything substantial since before you arrived at my circle yesterday,” Deceit reasoned, “This food was gathered from the forest, it does not share the properties of food from faerie,”

Virgil groaned and pushed himself up, rubbing his sleeve across his eyes to try and wake himself up a little, he’d have to go without coffee today, “What have you got?”

“Berries, mainly,” Deceit answered, “And a few apples,”

“Gimme the apples,” Virgil said, holding out a hand, an apple was tossed to him and he inspected it carefully before taking a bite. Thankfully it was a good apple, he really was hungry. Roman spluttered.

“Woah ok so what did I miss, what happened while I was asleep?” Roman asked, sounding astounded, “Cursed? A spell? Bribery?”

“I have done nothing to V,” Deceit answered, “I assure you, nothing bad has happened without your knowledge,”

“Yeah Princey, nothing happened,” Virgil said, standing up and brushing himself off as he took another bite out of the apple, “So uh- which way do we need to head?” 

“Southeast,” Deceit said, when they both stared at him confused, he pointed off into the forest, “That way,”

“Excellent!” Roman grinned, before starting off in that direction with all the bravado of a real life fantasy prince who’d had four doses of coffee. Virgil sighed, stretching with a yawn.

“Is he always that enthusiastic in the mornings?” Deceit asked, raising an eyebrow as Virgil stood up, he shrugged with a tired grunt.

“Somehow,” Virgil nodded, before trailing off after Roman, pulling up his hood and hunching his shoulders as he marched off after his more normal companion, somehow Deceit managed to catch up to walk between them. Well, at least he knew that the faerie was still coming with them.

—-

It really did only take a few hours of walking before the trio arrived at the edge of the forest, right at the point Virgil and Roman had entered around the same time just the day before.

As they approached the treeline, Deceit stopped, looking back at the forest, Roman caught on quickly, since he had been holding Deceit’s hand again, it took Virgil a second later to notice, when he almost crashed into Roman.

“What’s going on?” Virgil asked, eyes darting around, suddenly more aware than he had been previously, “Is something wrong?”

“You’re fine, darling,” Deceit reassured, “Nothing is necessarily going on,”

“Well that was a statement,” Virgil said, looking at Deceit with an eyebrow raised, he looked much more awkward than he had at any point before, “What happened to being direct?”

“Well, we’ve arrived at the edge of the forest,” Deceit said. Instead of answering him, Roman and Virgil shared a glance, he was redirecting, “I trust that you can both get wherever you’re going from here?”

“...Yes we can,” Roman nodded, shifting from foot to foot, “But… I was under the impression that you were coming as well?”

“Princey, call us a taxi so we don’t have to wait forever,” Virgil commanded, Roman pulled out his phone, looking at the screen for a moment before gasping.

“Oh my goodness!” Roman cried, “Sweet sweet phone signal! Oh instagram I missed you so much-"

“Princey, focus,” 

“Oh right,” Roman nodded, pulling up something on his phone.

“We’re still gonna have to walk a while to get to the point where the uber can pick us up,” Virgil said, turning to Deceit and holding out his hand, “So, are you coming?”

“I am not particularly aware of the route from here,” Deceit told him, eyeing his hand.

“Don’t worry about it, Princey and I have that covered,” Virgil said with a half smile.

“Alright then,” Deceit said, taking Virgil’s hand, “Lead the way, darling,”

[subtleshenanigans]

Finally finished! A piece of fan art for @rjam9 ‘s Fic The Party’s Never Over For You on AO3

This is a fantastic Fic and I highly recommend it! I decided to draw this scene even though it’s further in the Fic, so that all the characters are together. Really, Monty should be in place and Roxy walking in, but I decided to have Monty last since he would block our humans too much.

Anyways, I hope you like it!

Here’s the Fic: https://archiveofourown.org/works/38276893/chapters/95641903

[lidlverse]

To those who care hello hi it’s me uh lidlverse chapter one is up? It’s gonna take a few days for chapter two as I need to rewrite it because it sucks but other than that please read and keep up to date. I know the writing isn’t phenomenal or anything but it gets good I promise

A long time ago in a galaxy far far away… in the country of Great Britain. The total drama cast find themselves barely surviving in yes England because funk you I’m not researching if any of this makes sense in Canada, and having to work multiple mundane jobs in retail and various, with many working at the titular Lidl, our main characters find themselves wrapped up in a story way beyond their (or yours… or mine even) comprehension.

What’s with all these sudden deaths? Why is there an ant colony under Zoey’s bed? Will Gwen and Courtney be able to sustain their relationship? Does pineapple really belong on pizza? Well… if any of these questions intrigue you, then Total Drama; The Lidlverse might just be the perfect fan fiction for you. And if none of those pique your interest? Well read it anyway if you’ve already made it this far.

Also follow my IG and Tumblr : @bhnsby on T and @envariiety on IG for any other Lidl content; for the actual Lidl accounts it’s @lidlverse on all

[exorcismist]

Amoureux Déguisé

Spy had always prided himself on his cool, calm, and collected demeanor. As a master of disguise, he was able to blend in with any crowd and keep his emotions in check. But there was one thing that he couldn't control - his feelings for the Sniper. His enemy.

Spy came up with a plan. He would disguise himself as a younger woman and go on various dates with the Sniper, getting to know him personally. Perhaps, in doing so, he could figure out why he was feeling this way and find a way to put an end to it.

Then he’ll surely realize that his feelings are false..

What could go wrong?

A Sniper/Spy Fic

Multi-Chapter

W.I.P.

[naminethewitch]

@edupunkn00b Decided on this one since I might be planning a little addition to this AU 😉

One's Hometown, One's New Home - Masterpost

Welcome to my first contribution to the wonderful ship that is Anxceit! It is Anxceit Week, run by @tss-anxceit-week and I have a story for you about them meeting in a quiet town Janus has spend most of his life in and that he adores, while Virgil is new there and might be there to hide from... something. It a mostly fluffy story, with them getting to know each other and getting together but also has some supernatural elements! I hope you enjoy what I've come up with 💛💜

Summary: Janus' hometown is a usually quiet place where everyone knows everyone. So when someone new moves in, they're usually the hottest topic of local gossip. The newcomer then comes by the library Janus works at, he can't help but chat with him a little. Doesn't hurt that he's good looking as well.

Potential Content Warnings will be added to the appropriate chapters.

Read here on Ao3

Chapter One: Quiet Meeting

Chapter Two: Coffee and Mothman

Chapter Three: Curious Encounter

Chapter Four: Interrupted Shopping Trip

Chapter Five: A Home Full Of Memories

Chapter Six: Complicated Families

Chapter Seven: Learning About Each Other

My writing Masterpost

[shinsources]

Why can't FFN.Net have a site wide Dark Mode instead of just on the fanfics?? Why can't AO3 have a Dark Mode without the need of an account to even enable a Dark Mode skin?? Dark Mode should be accessible by default and for free to everyone without the need of an account and/or third-party extension for everyone. That is especially true for those with eye problems, light sensitivity, and what have you.

[edupunkn00b]

Chapters: 28/28 Fandom: Sanders Sides (Web Series) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders/Morality | Patton Sanders Characters: Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Deceit | Janus Sanders, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Morality | Patton Sanders, Logic | Logan Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders Additional Tags: Alternative Universe - Kingdom, Dragon Deceit | Janus Sanders, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders Angst, Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders is a Good Brother, eventually, Anxiety | Virgil Sanders is a Little Shit, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Damage but said in the way that one dude on TikTok says it, Self Confidence Issues Summary:

Prince Roman is desperate to break the curse placed upon his people, no matter what the cost. The dragon Janus is able to break the curse, but he will only offer his services for a price. Though, Janus' intentions are not quite what they seem.

[zarameraki]

♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧ 𝘆𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗲𝘅𝗽𝗲𝗰𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝘀𝘂𝗸𝘂𝗻𝗮'𝘀 𝗰𝗵𝗶𝗹𝗱, 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝘂𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱'𝘀 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗴 ♡₊˚⚜️・₊✧

: ̗̀➛ tropes: fem! reader 𖥔 mdni 𖥔 sukuna is a mafia kingpin 𖥔 teasing grumpy x sunshine 𖥔 pregnancy trope 𖥔 he'll burn the world for you 𖥔 "my wife" 𖥔 he's a great dad 𖥔 mentions of miscarriage 𖥔 mentions of physical and sexual assault 𖥔 mention of parental death 𖥔 major fluff 𖥔 sexual content 𖥔 alternate universe 𖥔 nsfw 𖥔 he loves eating you out 𖥔 anal play (yup.) 𖥔 last warning: mdni!

: ̗̀➛ words: 6.0k

: ̗̀➛ notes: no bc i love you all so much. it's insane how much you guys have supported my toji fanfic & and my nanami fanfic. i'll def be writing a part two to both of those masterpieces (yes i have self-confidence). as someone who's always imagined sukuna as a mafia leader, i decided to say fuck it and write it. please leave a comment, like, and reblog! thank you & ily. enjoy! (p.s. pregnancy trope>>>)

You never thought you'd be married to Sukuna Ryomen, let alone carrying his kid again. Yet, four years deep into this forced marital mess, thanks to your father owing a hefty debt to the kingpin of the underworld crime syndicate, here you were.

“Look at you, Mrs. Ryomen, radiant as ever!” chirped one of your husband’s associate's wives. You had studied a name list last night, but it all escaped your memory after you passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Sukuna wasn’t keeping a hawk's eye on you like he used to when you first stepped into the public eye. Gone were the days of his glares if you messed up a name. Never once had he laid a finger on you at home, despite your assumption that forgetfulness would earn you a beating.

“Thank you." You forced a smile at the woman, your patience waning as the mayor's birthday party stretched on. It was almost the end of the night, and your feet were protesting from traipsing around in flats. All you craved at that moment was your bed, pronto.

The woman and her husband attempted to capture Sukuna's lukewarm attention through political discussions and expressing gratitude for the illegal artillery shipments from your husband's syndicate. They made no effort to acknowledge your existence by his side.

Your hand rested on your belly, a mere eight months into your pregnancy—a new personal record. The first time you conceived, Sukuna demanded an heir, and you willingly agreed, knowing that the child would provide some distraction in the expansive estate that felt like a cage. Unfortunately, at the two-month mark, you experienced a miscarriage.

Feeling Sukuna's knuckles lightly tapping your back, you straightened your posture momentarily, only to slouch again almost instantly. It was futile. The discomfort of your swollen and cramped belly made it nearly impossible to maintain a poised demeanor in the midst of the party.

Disobeying Sukuna meant facing inevitable death, a fact well understood in his dangerous domain, and you had never dared to challenge that.

"Let's go," Sukuna said, cutting through the incessant chatter of the couple. He didn't grasp your hand, only your fragile wrist, a gesture you didn't mind. Yours was not a typical love; he, Sukuna Ryomen, a most feared monster in the criminal underworld, and you, a sacrificial lamb, a trophy collected three years ago, a means to his heir.

"I'm sorry," you whispered as you exited the venue, heading towards the limousine surrounded by fifteen armed guards under Sukuna's command. "I'm so sorry—"

"Get in the car." He held the door open for you, signaling his guards to disperse and take their positions in the Jeeps parked behind.

Silencing yourself, you cautiously settled into the back seat, and Sukuna joined you, slamming the door with force. His anger was discernible, and the memory of that night, losing your second unborn child to a kidnapping, plagued your dreams. You were uncertain if the nightmares were about Sukuna's wrath upon finding you or the horrors his enemies inflicted on you during your 48-hour captivity.

Sukuna noticed your struggle with the seatbelt and contorted his body toward you. Your fingers released their grip on the belt, allowing him to pull it taut and secure it snugly around your midsection. Click. He withdrew, distancing himself from your face that had been mere inches away.

“Tedious fucking party, anyway,” Sukuna grumbled, his left ankle casually perched on his right kneecap. He always adopted a specific posture, his elbow leaning against something, cheek resting on his knuckles, and his narrow eyes a rich brown that could almost pass for a deep shade of red. He exuded an unrelenting air of intimidation.

"I agree," you unintentionally voiced your thoughts, earning a sidelong glance from him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

His attention barely lingered on you as the car roared to life. You breathed a sigh of relief, stretching out your legs and leaning your head back against the seat's shoulder. Your palm absentmindedly traced circles on your belly. Goosebumps peppered your skin from the frigidness in the car, stirring an involuntary shudder.

"Turn on the heater," Sukuna ordered the driver in his smooth, languid baritone.

"Yes, sir."

As warmth gradually surrounded the backseat, you hummed a small "Thank you" and closed your eyes, enjoying a few moments of peace.

Disorientation clouded your senses, and you dispelled it by rubbing your eyes and using your knuckles to prop yourself against the headboard. A couple of contractions ripped through your gut, causing you to groan and hiss through gritted teeth.

The enormous room was devoid of Sukuna, its black silk sheets hinting at the luxury covering you. The fireplace casted a warm glow, and a soft, dim golden light spilled from the lamp onto the floor.

In the first year of your marriage and pregnancy, your bedroom was located three doors away. You were tended to by on-site nurses and doctors, surrounded by an entourage of maids for company. Days were spent aimlessly wandering the estate, occasionally crossing paths with one of Sukuna's mistresses, their curious smirks evident as they exited his room.

The second year brought a subtle shift. You still slept alone, but now there was a surprising addition of joining Sukuna for dinner. Positioned diagonally from him, an air of restrained silence hung above your head. Yet, between the utensils clattering and quiet chewing, Sukuna's glances toward you and your five-month-old belly revealed your anticipation for the impending arrival of your child.

One of your maids had been instructed to lure you into a private conversation in the back garden, and before you could react, a group of men clad in black drugged you and forcibly removed you from the cage, which in that cruel moment felt like a sanctuary.

Most details of the monstrosities forced upon you in that warehouse have been compressed by your mind—the merciless physical and sexual assault endured for hours. They callously bragged that raping Sukuna's Ryomen's wife was a personal victory, cackling like bloodthirsty hyenas as you bled from your legs. In the thick of your suffering, you lost your second child in a pool of your own sweat and feces.

When Sukuna discovered you, when he annihilated every man along with their bloodlines, you were left as a mere shell of a woman, practically lifeless. You've existed as a walking corpse for quite some time now. Following that dreadful night, you attempted every conceivable means to end your own life—drowning, leaping out of windows, creating a makeshift noose from bed sheets and tying them around balcony railings, teetering on the edge—but every attempt proved useless. Sukuna consistently interfered at the last minute, sweeping in and enveloping you in his arms as you wept until unconsciousness claimed you for days.

Therapy provided some relief, as did the medications. Sukuna heightened security measures tenfold, keeping only those workers who served during his father and grandfather's reigns. He moved your belongings into his bedroom, sleeping by your side with a gun beneath his pillow. There were times when you would doze off in the library while reading, only to wake up in his room.

Two years seemed like an eternity in the slow process of healing, both physically and mentally, from the torment that had befallen you. Stepping into the garden was a reminder of the progress you had made, yet the hope that blossomed in your womb now filled you with a different kind of fear.

You needed your baby. Even if it meant risking your own life during childbirth. The only thing that mattered was the precious life you carried within you, and as long as your baby took that first breath, you'd welcome death with open arms.

Sukuna's bedroom door creaked open, revealing his presence.

Mink-colored tendrils of hair obscured his eyes, disheveled from their usual spiked stance. The stark white of his dress shirt was marred by the unmistakable stains of someone else's blood, and a gun dangled casually from his grasp. In the subdued lighting, his facial markings, inked tattoos designed to mask the scars of his tormented childhood, appeared more ominous than ever.

Without acknowledging your ogling, he briskly entered his bathroom.

You slipped back under the covers, pulling the comforter up to your chin, soothing the sharp twinges in your belly. The rhythmic sounds of his shower served as a background melody. Sukuna took an eternity to freshen up, nearly two hours passing before the door finally creaked open. You had kept a close eye on it, lost in your own world and trying to ignore the persistent contractions. No complaints, though – you were at the eight-month mark, and this baby was determined to make its entrance into the world.

Draped in a sleek black silk robe, Sukuna strolled toward his side of the bed, his eyes locking onto yours. "Why are you still awake?" He tilted his head as if studying an unfamiliar creature. He always regarded you with a curious interest, unearthing some new revelations about you.

"Cramps," you whispered in the dimness, even though the first rays of morning sun began to seep through the curtains.

Sukuna strolled to his side of the bed, lifting the comforter to settle down. "Do you take any medication for it?"

You shook your head. "I don't want to take any risks."

"So you're just going to endure the night with a migraine?"

Your husband seemed oblivious to the concept of cramps. He hadn't bothered to educate himself about your pregnancy or even familiarize himself with basic menstrual cycle terminology. You hesitated to bring attention to his title and position, but he was, after all, born from a woman.

How could he not know?

"Answer me," Sukuna demanded, fixing you with a cold, indifferent gaze. How could two simple words carry such a heavy, intimidating weight? Your entire body shuddered, and you swore you felt your child kick in response to his attitude, causing you to clench your teeth.

"Cramps . . . are something women experience during their period and pregnancy. They're sharp, unpredictable pains in your gut and back," you explained, finding a position that eased the cramps and calmed your baby. "It's worse when you're pregnant—like someone attached a taser to your body without a switch to turn it off."

Sukuna's brow furrowed, and he seemed pissed off as if he held a vendetta against cramps. "Will it have any consequence on the baby?"

You were really trying to be patient. “The baby is the reason why.” 

He ran his hands wearily down his face, casting a stern gaze at the ceiling, his breath quickening. "Is there any way to relieve the pain? Besides medication?"

“Well,” you said slowly, “when I first started menstruating, my mother used to place a warm rubber bottle on my stomach.” The recollection of nights spent groaning, tossing, and turning with your hand clutching your stomach brought a smile. After her passing in high school, you found yourself managing the household, dealing with your drug-addicted father, and taking care of yourself all on your own.

"Come here."

Startled, you shifted your focus to your husband, who raised the comforter like a makeshift tent with one arm. "You don't have to—"

"Come here."

With caution, you edged closer, lying flat and holding your breath. Sukuna propped himself up on one elbow, resting his temple on his knuckles while adjusting the blanket up to your neck. His left hand glided up your sweater and settled on your swollen belly.

An immediate sense of relaxation cocooned you, your eyes closing as warmth radiated from his palm onto your skin. The sensation passed through to your child, who quit kicking within seconds, seemingly recognizing their father's touch. It dawned on you that Sukuna hadn't touched you since you conceived, and you hadn't realized the volume of your misery and longing until this moment.

"Feeling better?"

"Mm-hmm." You nestled your face close to his neck. All you managed to whisper, your voice tinged with brokenness, was, "Please, don't let go."

Sukuna responded only with silence.

You'd woken up screaming bloody-mary.

The security team and maids hurried into the bedroom, their eyes widening at the sight of blood staining your clothes and darkening the black sheets. In a swift response, the doctor and her team of nurses rushed in while Uraume, Sukuna's trusted aide, calmly called for your husband from a corner of the room.

In the heat of your excruciating screams, five nurses attempted to guide your breathing and encourage you to follow a pattern. Guards carefully lifted you into a sitting position, and Uraume decisively cleared the room of all men. The doctor swiftly removed your sweatpants and panties, covering your lower region with a sheet, and instructing you to push.

Your body felt numb, your eyes rolling to the back of your head, and a black vignette closing in on your vision. Your head swayed left and right, on the verge of dropping if not for Uraume's unwavering support. Despite the intensity of your grip, they held steady, their only reaction being a stream of muttered curses amid the chaotic scene.

"I can't—Uraume—"

"You will, Mrs. Sukuna. You have come this far. Giving up now is not an option."

"I don't want to die," you whispered akin to a prayer.

"You won't," they softly replied. "He won't allow it."

Uraume, a silent figure from the past, now stood by your side, offering support and encouragement. The connection with them had been minimal, limited to the formalities of a marital contract signing. They had simply muttered, “He’s not half as evil as they say,” to you before packing up the papers and leaving you in the room with Sukuna.

The room buzzed with affirmations, reassuring you that they could see the baby's head and urging you to push with each breath.

The sound of the baby's cries stirred you awake.

You snapped to attention at the sweet, reassuring sound, realizing that your baby was close to arrival—alive and ready to face the world. Following two heartbreaking miscarriages and the pain endured as Sukuna's wife, the bearer of his lost children, you were finally on the cusp of welcoming motherhood.

"Two more pushes!" The doctor's voice cut through the air.

"AGH!" A guttural growl escaped your throat as you grappled with the harsh sensations. Your body trembled, and waves of fiery discomfort overflowed through your core as you exerted yourself to bring your baby into the world.

"Come on," Uraume whispered. "You can do this, Mrs. Ryomen."

You let out a powerful cry and strained with effort, bringing forth new life. The baby and you were crying at the exact wavelength, competing against who could be louder. The nurses and attendants, familiar faces from your previous pregnancies, clasped their hands in prayer for a safe delivery. Tears of relief streamed down your face as you pushed for your own well-being.

"Blanket!" the doctor urgently called out, prompting a nurse to rush over with a soft cream blanket. "Push!"

With a final, determined push, the weight lifted suddenly.

The slippery sensation of delivering the child and the immediate release of pressure left you slumping against Uraume's shoulder. As they laid you down, the doctor directed the staff to tend to you while the baby's cries filled the air.

The doctor approached through your hazy sight and gently laid your newborn on your chest. Overwhelmed with emotion, you showered your baby with kisses, tears of joy streaming down your face. Your little one was here. They were finally here.

"Congratulations, Mrs. Ryomen," the doctor announced as the cries of your newborn gradually faded into the background. "It's a girl."

You drifted into unconsciousness.

The soft cadence of Sukuna's voice filtered through the foggy boundaries of sleep, causing you to slowly come back to life.

“Why is this brat refusing to sleep?” you heard your husband grumbling.

With a laborious effort, you rubbed your eyes, summoning the strength to lift your head from the comfort of the pillow. The scene unfolded before you—Sukuna, the most feared criminal, pacing at the foot of his bed, cradling your crying newborn daughter in his arms, unsure of how to handle his little foe.

"What do you want? Food? You don’t have any teeth yet, little miscreant."

"Sukuna . . ." you whispered, a gentle plea for attention.

Your husband's gaze snapped in your direction, relief washing over his features as he realized you were conscious. "Thank fuck." Moving swiftly, he approached and took a seat at the edge of the bed.

His brown-reddish eyes lingered on the delicate scene unfolding before him—the intertwining of your index finger with your daughter's tiny, rattling fist. A calming magic seemed to stem from your touch, instantly soothing the cries to soft sniffles.

"Already playing favorites, I see," he remarked with a teasing tone, a wry smile on his lips.

"I have to feed her." Your voice was hoarse from the relentless screaming during the delivery. A series of deadly wheezes followed when you coughed, frightening your baby once more. Her cries started again, blending with the impatient curses of her father.

He gently placed her in the cradle, his strength used to prop you up against the headboard. The room carried the scent of coconut soap, your body freshly washed, the sheets beneath you brand-new. You were also dressed in a new set of panties and a nursing bra.

"Are you sure you have enough nutrients in your body to feed her?" Sukuna asked, holding your baby girl as you unclipped the front left cup. Rather than wasting your breath on a response, you focused on helping your daughter latch onto your nipple.

You winced once she caught it, then melted back as she started drinking. “I’m fine,” you finally answered. “Body . . . hurts.”

"No shit. You pushed an eight pound baby out of you." Despite the crude sarcasm in his tone, Sukuna tenderly caressed his knuckles over his daughter's cheek.

"Did you want . . . a girl?"

"Why do you ask?"

"I'm sorry," you mumbled, adjusting your baby onto your lap. "I assumed you'd prefer a boy as an heir."

"I'm not my father," he declared, putting an end to the conversation. "She's got your eyes."

Your daughter gazed up at you with a curiosity remarkably similar to yours. You smiled down at her, grateful she had made it. Grateful that Sukuna wasn't throwing a tantrum over the gender of your child but instead cupping the top of his baby girl's head and brushing his thumb across her forehead.

“You got a name for her?” Sukuna asked.

“Yes, but we can brainstorm if you don’t—”

“You carried the child, you birthed her, you will name her. Whatever it is, I agree.”

Something dead stirred inside your chest. Swallowing hard, you shared the chosen name, "Nobara."

He nodded in approval, and as he pronounced her name, Nobara responded with a wailing cry. "Her tantrums will be the fucking death of me." Sukuna took her into his arms again.

"Support the back of her head and rub her back. She needs to be burped," you advised.

He grunted but followed your instructions. Moments later, a tiny burp from Nobara made you chuckle, earning a slight eye roll and a hint of a smile from him.

"I'll take the next few weeks off to help you recover from the aftermath and the stitches," he announced, rising and walking towards his work desk, where he settled into a large leather chair, cradling your newborn.

You nodded appreciatively, easing yourself down.

"Oh, before I forget," Sukuna mentioned as you settled into bed, "I've arranged a new doctor for you."

“Did you fire the last one?”

“I fired at her, yes.”

Your eyes widened. "What? Why would you—? What?"

He shrugged, cradling the back of your newborn's head. "She suggested an additional stitch for you. Said it would make things 'tighter' down there for me."

Your face flushed. “So . . . you killed her?”

"Yes," he confirmed, his gaze fixed on you with those penetrating eyes, "I don't need a mere doctor questioning whether I'd still enjoy having sex with my wife after she gave birth to our child."

“But . . . you have mistresses. Don’t you?”

He lifted a brow. “I had mistresses up until . . . ”

Up until the kidnapping.

Sukuna never spoke of the crime after he’d saved you. Instead, he expressed his commitment through actions: sleeping beside you, teaching you how to handle a handgun, keeping a protective arm around your waist at social gatherings. Occasionally, you swore you felt him run his fingers through your hair as you slept.

"I wouldn't mind if you did," you admitted, a voice inside contradicting your words. "Given what my body has been through, I would find myself repulsive for pleasure, too. I understand if you feel disgusted."

Sukuna halted the gentle strokes on your daughter's back and straightened up. "What the fuck did you just say?"

An icy shiver ran through you, momentarily numbing the pain. "I-I just assumed—"

"You know, you make a lot of assumptions about me, wife. It gets under my fucking skin that you'd ever believe I could raise a hand on you. Day and night, every hour and minute, even now, in your presence, my mind is consumed with ways to kill the fear that's taken root in you.” He was infuriated yet vulnerable, with Nobara sleeping peacefully on his shoulder. “Everyone I’ve ever met has done nothing but fear me like I’m a curse on their soul, and while I’m flattered of the monster they’ve painted me out to be, I refuse to let my wife and daughter see me in that light. Do I make myself clear?"

You . . . nodded. 

“And for your information, I had mistresses up until I married you.”

You took in a sharp breath, processing the confession. "But those women—"

"Spies," he clarified, his voice low and steady. "They operate undercover in my clubs, keeping an eye out for potential threats. I haven't fucked anyone since the day I put that ring on your finger." He offered a small, almost imperceptible apology to your baby for cursing.

"Oh."

All you ever heard were twisted stories about the Sukuna Ryomen, a young man who, against all odds, slaughtered his own father to ascend the throne of the underworld criminal realm. Whispers spoke of a chilling childhood, where a mother's desperate attempt to suffocate her son in his sleep. The scars etched into his skin, concealed beneath a tapestry of dark markings, bore witness to the brutal initiation rites inflicted by vengeful uncles. In his domain, everyone prayed to see him buried six feet under.

Which is why you felt sympathy for your husband. He was lonely. Too lonely. Despite all the riches and influence surrounding him, he was stuck in a fortress where danger lurked around every corner. He had no friends, no one he could truly confide in—except perhaps Uraume. Opening up about his emotions wasn't in his nature. He kept the tough exterior, convinced that being a monster, a curse, was the only path to earning respect and recognition.

But just now, when had cut himself open in front of you and bled a human color, he was Sukuna. Your husband. The one who just became a father. A man wrapped in a comfortable robe with his hair combed down and his skin clean of dirt and blood as he held his daughter, as he gazed at you like you two were the only people meant fighting for in his treacherous world.

Sukuna noticed your silence, tuned in to your steady breaths, and lowered his lashes. "You'll ask me to touch you. Not just for the sake of having another child but for your own pleasure. If I'm not around and you need me, you will call, and I'll rush home. If this little brat gives you any trouble, I'll handle it. Hell, maybe I'll let her in on a bit of the family business for a head start."

"No," you murmured, absorbing everything he'd just said. "Not now. I want her to enjoy a proper childhood."

"Is that a demand?" Sukuna tilted his head slightly, another method of asserting authority. Yet, after all he'd shared about dropping everything for you, about making love to you, the fear in you started to dissolve bit by bit.

"Yes," you affirmed. "It's a demand."

A small smirk played on Sukuna's lips as he rose from his spot, circled the bed, and settled down beside you, with Nobara resting peacefully on his chest. Summoning all your strength, you turned to run your fingers over your baby's soft cheek and tiny, parted lips.

“She sleeps like you, Mr. Ryomen.”

“Sukuna,” he corrected, his arm covering his eyes as he breathed with a slightly open mouth. “My wife will call me Sukuna.”

Teasingly, you asked, “Is that a demand, Sukuna?”

His arm shifted low, and his reddish-brown eyes softened, stealing your breath. “Only from my wife and daughter.”

You smiled, closing your eyes. “Goodnight, Sukuna.”

In response, he wrapped his strong arm around you, pulling you close to his side, his two girls snuggled against his body.

In the beginning, you knew you didn't belong in the hell Sukuna ruled. Your father's mistakes, pilfering drug shipments and peddling them locally, had sealed both his fate and yours. With thoughts of fleeing the disgrace your father brought upon your family, you had started packing, desperate to escape the clutches of your old man.

The following night, Sukuna and his henchmen barged into your cramped apartment, wreaking havoc on every piece of furniture. Rocking in the corner of your room, Sukuna casted his shadow over you like the God of Death, bathed in your father’s blood.

Crouching down to your eye level, he tipped your chin up, leaving a splotch of blood. He used the collar of your sweater to wipe it away. In a hushed confession, you revealed the hidden drugs under the sink and floorboards, along with your father's buyer list folded in the cereal boxes. Sukuna grinned and ordered his underlings to retrieve the concealed items. Then, the chilling question hung in the air: "Are you going to kill me, too?"

"I'm tempted," Sukuna replied, "but not to kill you." His gaze fixated on your left hand, and he raised it, studying your ring finger. "You will pay for your father's crimes with your life." He held your hand in front of your face. "You will take my last name." His smirk widened, revealing perfect teeth. "Isn't that the cruelest form of death, love?"

Unconsciousness claimed you then, but after seven years of marriage, enduring unimaginable hardships, and finally welcoming a baby into the world, your answer was clear. The true torment wasn't caused by the man you once perceived as a monster but rather by his enemies.

"How am I supposed to know if Mr. Munchkin wants more tea? He's a fucking stuffed toy. Can't talk, you know?"

"Sukuna," you warned, perched on the armrest while busy crocheting baby socks for your little one on the way.

Nobara, wielding a rubber, squeaky hammer, stood up from her seat, giving her father a bonk on the head each time he let out a curse. And you often heard the squeak of the hammer around the house.

Nobara's tiara was slightly askew, frustration evident in her curled lips and bared teeth. She was growing increasingly irritated with her father's lack of understanding about the rules of her tea party. "Mr. Munchkin wants tea, Papa. Give him tea! Give him tea! Give him—"

"Fine, I surrender. Here, you little bastard. Take the whole fu—damn pot." He shoved the plastic teapot towards Mr. Munchkin, a well-loved cat stuffed toy you had gifted Nobara on her last birthday. "Happy?"

"Cup," she insisted, pointing at the tea cup in front of Mr. Munchkin.

Sukuna sighed and poured the water from the kettle into the pink plastic cup.

"Me too," Nobara added, settling back in her kiddie chair. Sukuna had barely taken his seat before she had him on the floor. "Hurry!"

"May I pour for the other toys first, Your Highness?"

"Not toys. Friends."

Sukuna shot you a helpless glare, eliciting a chuckle from you. He filled the table with tea, and Nobara, holding her small cup, clinked it with her father's, followed by her collection of stuffed animals. Sukuna reluctantly mimicked the gesture. Instead of sipping the tea, he downed it like a shot.

“Papa!”

“Sukuna, come on.���

There wasn’t any winning with his girls.

Sukuna reluctantly poured himself another cup, sipping it with an air of royalty that mirrored a princess. Despite his resistance to the make-believe tea party, you couldn't ignore the genuine affection he showed toward his daughter. He would nod attentively when one of the stuffed animals "spoke," laughed along with Nobara, and even beautified himself with a glittering tiara, a feathered pink scarf, and deep purple-painted nails.

Sukuna was, without a doubt, a fantastic father. It came as no surprise that Nobara's first word was 'Brat.'

That night, you kissed your daughter goodnight and tucked her into her bed. Sukuna joked that he’d spent every last bit of his wealth decorating the brat’s room, filling it with the latest toys, and stacking her closet with whatever clothes she laid her finger or eyes on. She was truly the princess of her father’s heart.

"She's asleep," you informed him.

"I'll give her a kiss in a minute. Just need to finish this," Sukuna replied, pouring over his documents.

Letting out a sigh, you shuffled over, rolled back his chair, and settled onto his lap. He continued reading as you wrapped your arms around his neck, resting your cheek on his shoulder, peering at him through your lashes.

"I want you," you murmured.

Sukuna paused, lowering his gaze to meet your cheeky smile. "Later."

"It's late."

"I have to finish—" He halted as you began kissing his neck, moving up to his jaw and cheeks, tracing the contours of his face tattoos.

"Please, Sukuna," you whispered near his ear.

How could he refuse you anything when you appeared so stunning, radiating with the joy of expecting another child in your four-month-old belly?

“Take off your robe and get on the bed. Spread your legs for me.” He gave your ass a little smack as you happily skipped away, shedding your clothes and clearing the bed to settle in. With a grin, you opened your legs, propping yourself up on your elbows.

Sukuna stood up from his seat, loosening his robe as he did. He sighed, watching the moisture forming between your legs. Pregnancy seemed to heighten your lusts, and Sukuna was always ready to fulfill your needs.

“What pretty, wet cunt,” he whispered softly, leaning in to kiss your chest, trailing down to your stomach, your hips, your calling clit. 

Over the years, you realized Sukuna enjoyed pleasuring you more than the opposite. He feasted on you like a starved man, whether it happened in the back of the limo, in a guest room during a party, or just minutes before a crucial meeting in his office. He insisted it was his way of relaxing, often pleading with you to spend a full hour on his face as he ate you out and drank every drop of your release. It had turned into a daily routine for him. And for you.

“Oh, Sukuna, yes, yes. Right there—ah!” Your back arched off the mattress when his tongue drove into your hole, flicking and exploring your clamping walls. His mouth was latched to your pussy, sucking it in, his cheeks hollowing rapidly. Your fingers tightened in his hair, hips voluntarily grating against his face, his sharp nose rubbing over your swollen clit. 

Sukuna drew back as you came down with a muted cry behind your hand and lapped at the flow of your juices pouring out of you. His lips shone as he leaned over and gently kissed you, allowing you to taste yourself from his tongue. “If I don’t fuck you now, I will die.” 

“Hurry, then.” 

Sukuna pushed himself inside you, and that first wave of pleasure hit you so strongly that you sank your nails in his back and cried out heavenwards. He groaned and grunted, thrusts growing speed, his plump balls smacking against your ass. You loved that he fucked harder, faster, driving you to the brink of ruination. 

After you'd healed from Nobara's birth, he would always make sure to get at least ten orgasms from you. From midnight to early morning, he'd fuck you in every possible position. But his favorite was always missionary, where he could have his eyes on you, writhing and whimpering beneath him, telling him it’s too much, he's too thick, all while using your heels to draw him in even closer.

Sukuna curled his arm around your waist and sat you up on his lap, thrusting up into you as you coiled yourself around his neck. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck. Your cunt was made for me, love. Your cunt was fucking made for me.” His hand threaded to the back of your head, grasping your hair and drawing your face back so you were looking him in the eyes without wavering, without bowing your head. He needed to know you didn’t fear him when he fucked you like this. It was an unspoken check-in, and when you smiled drunkenly, only then did he let you return to embracing him. 

“Are you close?” you whispered. 

“Not yet. I want to come in your ass.” 

You shivered despite how scalding and sweaty your bodies were. “Do it.” 

“Yeah?” 

You nodded. “Please.” 

Sukuna dragged you off his cock so you could get on all-fours, raising your ass up for him. He’s only ever been in your sacred spot a handful of times but never finished himself inside it. It appeared that tonight you were both a little extra spellbound.

Mounting himself behind you, Sukuna unfurled your ass and spit on his fingers, stroking the puckered hole. He gathered the creamy liquid dripping out of your pussy to lubricate the spot. His middle finger stretched you out, followed by his ring fingers, pushing in and out until he knew for sure you were prepared for him. 

Sukuna’s steel-hard cock pushed into your tiny hole. The sight of it expanding to swallow his girthy size almost made him come right there and then. He started to move in sluggish movement, grabbing onto your waist. His hips cruised, brushing against your ass, making you impatient and push yourself back. 

“Understood.” He chuckled and dug his nails into your skin, dragging out to the tip and shoving himself inside. Your face pressed into your pillows, crying and trembling as he abused your asshole non-stop. “You’re taking me so well, my love. Oh, fuck, fuck.” He rutted into you like a beast, claiming your body, rubbing your clit from the front, spanking your ass, brandishing you over and over again. 

You both snapped in unison. 

Sukuna sagged over your spine as he bucked in every last bit of his sloppy seed. His lips kissed your shoulder blades, holding you up by one arm. Gently, he pulled out, his cock growing floppy until you flipped onto your back, hair sticking to your sweaty, flushed face, belly slightly swollen, your tits larger in size, his release mingled with yours seeping out from your holes. 

“Fuck, I love you,” he whispered, cupping your face like he didn’t just fuck your soul out of you. That smirk you’d come to love appeared on his lips. You reciprocated back, stretching out your arms so he could lean down and kiss you sweetly on the lips and cheeks and toss in a praise or two for what a good girl you were as he slid into you again, slower and more intimate with his game. “I fucking love you, Y/N.” 

You smiled against his lips that continuously whispered the three beautiful words and said, “I love you, too, Sukuna,” before sealing it with a long, lasting kiss.

[prince-rowan-of-the-forest]

Hi @edupunkn00b !!! I've got a few fics coming your way for the party so hang tight, obviously this is the first one :3

Ribbons and Rainstorms

Chapter 1 : That Fateful Day

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Roman Edevane has been terrified of storms since his twin brother's death when they were small children. He sits and he watches the dark clouds roll from his window, too afraid to sleep but unable to tear his eyes away. Then, one night, lightning strikes the temple on the hill and he forgets all about the storm in his rush to protect it. When he finds not a burning temple, but the God of Storms himself.

After that he kept coming back—Why? He wasn’t sure, and though meeting the god responsible for the storms doesn't abate his fear completely at first, Vi was… nothing like Roman could have ever expected. The God of storms was kind, he was sweet, a little shy and not to mention a whole other level of handsome. Somehow Roman can’t help but fall for them.

But he can’t be in love with a God… can he? Even if he was, could a God ever love him back?

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-Ao3-

Masterpost | Next ->

Art For This Fic by @anxious-mess19

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Warnings: Past character death, touch starvation, panic attacks + flashbacks, non-graphic injuries.

Pairings: Prinxiety, platonic DLAMPR, background Remile

Word count: 42,585

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Thunder terrified Roman.

The fear started on a night like this. When he and his twin brother were only six years old. The night he lost him.

He couldn't help but think about it whenever there was a storm, curled up in the bay window seat of his bedroom wrapped in blankets that couldn’t quite bring him the comfort he wanted. He kept a lantern on the other side of the window seat, but it was still the lightning that brightened his room, water that raced down his window and thunder that shook him to his very soul.

Neither of the servants knew. Of course, he had never told anyone aside from his parents about his fear. The servants would think him weak, a hopeful Protector of the Storm being afraid of thunder, and his tutor would think it an issue he must overcome. 

And while he rejected most notions of fear, this one he kept close to his heart. 

As much as he hated it while the storm itself raged on, when his fear took control and made him weak. When there wasn’t a storm to scare him he kept that same fear safe in his heart, reminding him of his lost brother, lost to the fire that struck him down from the sky. He had been there when it happened and seen Remus afterwards, drenched in water and coated in mud in their garden but so severely burned that he didn’t even look like his brother anymore. He had screamed and cried until a maid had rushed down from the house to find the young Roman cradling his twin close. He had still been alive, though barely, and unconscious. They had rushed him to the closest healer, still in the darkness of the storm. But in the end he hadn’t made it, and died with Roman clutching his hand. 

After Remus died, Roman had refused to leave their room for nearly a week, and for every thunderstorm since he had sat in his window wrapped in blankets, praying to the great God of the Storm that his brother was safe in the afterlife and no-one else would be hurt. 

His household by now knew not to bother him during a storm, even if only his parents knew why. 

From beyond his window, one stormy night that was the same as most, Roman saw a flash and flinched, before his eyes widened, lightning had just struck the temple that stood tall on the hill in the forest beyond their house. He watched as lightning struck once more, twice, then three times and that… couldn’t be normal? Wasn’t it said that lightning never struck twice? But here it was, striking the temple over and over. 

Not to mention, that was the temple the lightning had hit. The temple dedicated to Vi, the storm God. The temple he, Roman, was supposed to protect, ironically.

Storm almost entirely gone from his mind in an instant, Roman ran from his room. Grabbing his sword from its hook by the door as he went. He ran through the house, grabbing his cloak with one hand and throwing it over his shoulders while he tugged on his boots with the other.

“Roman?” Taz, called, shock lacing her voice, “Honey, what in the name of the Sun himself are you doing? Where are you— Roman!?”

“No time, Ma! I have to go, I’ll— I’ll be back— I’ll explain later,” he called, throwing open the back door and running straight out into the rain. 

His boots slid a little when they hit the soaked, mud coated grass. But his years of training — agility courses and races against other trainees through rough terrain — helped him to keep his footing as he ran through their gardens towards the forest. The sky lit up once again with lighting, and Roman’s attention was drawn back to the storm. The thunder crashed as he ran, the fear in his heart somehow guiding him towards the temple. He ran faster, not even hesitating as he leapt over the wall that separated their gardens from the road and the forest on the other side. He didn’t stop running until he stood on the steps of the building. 

The temple was grand, as it should be, built from bricks of black marble, streaked with white like lighting strikes. The large brackets that usually held flaming torches — which he lit and replenished mind you — were put out by the rain that had soaked the front steps and a large portion of the inside of the temple too, though the braziers at the back nearer the altar were still glowing bright with fire. The sight had Roman wondering if he had been seeing things. The temple didn’t seem damaged from the lighting strikes in the slightest. The only damage the temple faced was the constant wasting of time and abandonment — he had always been one of the very few to come here, after all. 

His instincts still urged him forward though, so Roman mounted the steps to the temple, trying his best to get some of the mud from his boots. As he entered the temple at last he noticed a figure stood next to the altar. They dressed in black and a deep, rich purple, they looked almost like a shadow in the firelight. 

“Hey!” Roman called, raising his sword, he was the lone defender of this temple, after all, and his gut was telling him there was something strange about this figure, some kind of… strange aura, they didn’t turn, but their head lifted, “What is your business here?”

“You’re not going to fight me with that sword, are you?” The stranger said, still facing away from him, Roman thought he could hear the smirk on their face through their voice. 

“That depends,” Roman answered slowly, this figure sent a spark of adrenaline through his heart that he hadn’t felt for a reason other than rumbling thunder for years and years, “Do you wish to do harm to this temple?”

“I do not,” They said, running their fingers over the old silver candelabra that sat on the altar in a way that seemed much too delicate for their imposing presence, “You are the one who sits and watches the storms, fearful, from your window, are you not?”

Roman wasn’t sure what to say, his sword now lowered to the ground. He still wasn’t certain this stranger wasn’t a threat. Besides, how on earth did this stranger know that?

“I see you there often,” They said by way of explanation, “But I don’t understand why you’re here now? The storms make you afraid, yet you have left your safety, here in the Storm’s temple itself, don’t you think you’re in more danger?”

He had to take a deep breath, the words stabbing through him, he noticed then that his hands were shaking. Only now did he realise that yes, he had left the safety of his windowsill, why? What was it that brought him here?

“I… I saw lightning strike the temple,” He said, “So…”

“The temple is undamaged by the sky’s fire,” The stranger told him, resting a hand fully on the altar and lifting the other to gesture to the ceiling, “It is the storm God’s temple, after all,”

“Oh… of course” Roman said quietly, admittedly, he now felt a little stupid. He should have had faith that the Gods could protect their own temples.

“The temple is safe, why don’t you go home?” The stranger asked. Roman turned to look back out the door, just in time to see a lightning bolt strike somewhere in the far distance. He flinched, the idea of staying in the temple with this stranger seemed far superior to going back out into the storm now that he had come to his senses. 

“No I… I think I’ll stay,” Roman said, clutching his sword tightly, his drenched cloak heavy on his shoulders. He honestly felt rather pathetic in front of the stranger, whose robes seemed to be of finer quality than any noble he’s ever seen, definitely more expensive than anything his family owned. They may be rich for their small village, but in comparison to other families… they had barely anything. He was soaking wet and in his nightclothes underneath the cloak and boots, he hadn’t been expecting to meet a pretty, well-dressed stranger in the temple, though he wasn’t sure what he had been expecting either. 

“Oh, really?” The stranger asked, “Shouldn’t you go home to your mother? She’s worried about you, after you ran off into the rain without a warning nor an explanation,”

“How do you… know that?” Roman asked slowly, his curiosity finally getting the better of him. 

“I know of all that takes place in my domain,” They said, turning a little, black hair and glittering silver circlet giving way to moonlight pale skin and piercing silver eyes that glowed slightly in the darkness, Roman took another step back that must have been instinct, “And you, little protector, just happen to be quite interesting." 

“You’re…” Roman trailed off, gaze flickering from the stranger’s face to the tapestry that hung between the flaming torches on the back wall of the temple. The same pale skin, though depicted with purple eyes, and black hair splayed out like a dark halo. The figure on the tapestry was wearing dramatically flowing purple and midnight blue robes and held a lightning bolt within their hands. The figure who stood in front of him had black streaks under their eyes, as if they had been crying black tears and he wore simpler clothes than the tapestry depicted, but Roman had no doubt that they were the same person. 

The God noticed Roman’s line of sight and turned to look at the tapestry as well, before turning back with a smirk on their face. He noticed distantly that his eyes now glowed purple like the tapestry, and his hair had gained purple streaks amongst the black. What on their good earth.

“Perhaps,” they said, glancing back at the tapestry, “It’s quite unflattering, really, I look far too…” They paused, bringing a hand up to their chin, “Villainous, maybe, is that why no-one comes here?”

Roman spluttered for a second, his mind tripping over the fact that he was talking to a literal God right now far too much to form proper sentences. After a moment of opening and closing his mouth, though, he finally found a sentence, “I— I don’t know… most people I meet say that the Sun God is more friendly or the God of Stars more appealing, even my mother doesn’t understand why I worship here,”

“Of course,” Vi sighed, “Why do you?”

“Why do I… what?” Roman asked, confused.

“Worship here,” they said, “You’re afraid of me and my storms, yet you still pray to me and see that my temple is clean and protected. I do not understand why.”

“Oh…” Roman sighed, looking down, he didn’t want to talk about this, God or not. He supposed he would have to, a direct request from a God was not one to be refused, “I— um— well— my brother— twin brother— he died, when we were a lot younger…”

Vi’s eyes seemed to soften, but he didn’t tell Roman to stop.

“He was struck by lighting, during a thunderstorm,” Roman said, his voice growing small, “I started worshipping you afterwards because— I guess because six-year-old me thought since your lightning killed him, you’d be able to protect him in the afterlife, which is, stupid, I know, Jay probably would’ve been better, but I guess I’ve hoped— whatever, storms remind me of the day it happened, that’s— that’s why I’m scared at least.”

When he looked up he found that Vi was now right in front of him, like, right in front of him. He had to look up to look at their face, this guy was unfairly tall, and unfairly pretty too, it probably came with being a God. 

“I’m sorry for what has happened to you,” Vi said, his deep voice unfairly soft. Was everything about this God unfair? “Storms are forces of destruction, it’s true, but I never intend for them to take the lives of those so young and undeserving.”

“Thank you-?” Roman stuttered, when on earth had he started crying? One corner of Vi’s mouth pulled up into a half smile as he leaned forward and kissed his forehead. The spot they had touched felt almost like it burned but… in a way that wasn’t unpleasant, somehow.

“I accept your thanks,” Vi told him, hands on his shoulders, the touch burning even through his clothes made him jolt slightly in surprise. He wondered if that burning sensation was something that came with Vi or if it was something else, “I will see you another time, for now you must return home, the storm is clearing up,”

True to his word, the rain outside the temple was starting to calm and the thunder was sounding much further away. When Roman looked back to Vi, he found him gone in a swirl of purple sparks.

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[the-baddest-of-batches]

Chapter Twenty-Three: The Children's War (Sneak Peek)

5 BBY Training Quarters of the Malevolent

Over ten years of service and what is the reward? Trainees. Soft, wet behind the ears, fleshy little rats without an ounce of discipline. They're all civilians now. Clones, we're an obsolete invention.

I know it's the Moff's way of rewarding me with the closest thing to a pension. I'd much rather be back out there on the front lines, but no. It's 0500 and I'm up on my feet, dressed in an officer's uniform stalking my way toward the training room, again. Today, maybe today they'll get it.

The class before them got it eventually. As did the one before them. You come here to do one job. Fight for the Empire. Protect the peace. Show no mercy.

I yawn. I need more caf in the morning. I never drank it before but boy do I want it now. I've heard it's more addicting than alcohol, and alcohol is the only thing that keeps my sorrows at bay usually. Maybe I ought to switch.

There's not a sound in the open air room as I approach. I frown. Did they all sleep in? If so I'm going to drag every one of their shebs out onto that floor and make them run laps till their legs fall off.

I toggle the door. It slides open and there's not a light on inside. "Kriffing recruits." I hit the lights.

Right smack dab in front of me stands a stiff sandy colored B1. I start back, my hand on my blaster before a voice rings out, half laughing in the worst monotone I've ever heard, and echoes from the droid's chest.

"Roger. Roger."

I gather my senses and my composure quickly enough to snap up my blaster and shoot the blasted thing right in the chest.

The whole thing crashes over and falls to pieces. It's not even fully there. It's a B1 dummy with protocol droid legs. Among their bits, I find a busted up commlink. I pick it up. It spits sparks and static.

"Cadets!" I yell into it.

There's a scramble from somewhere within the room and from the storage closets rookies come stumbling out, laughing their heads off.

"You thought it was real, sir!"

"We got you!" Cadets grab each other howling at their own prank.

Someone waves a hand in front of another cadet's face. "This is the droid you're looking for. Hah!"

One of them grabs their gut, doubling over laughing.

I click the setting on my blaster discreetly to stun and I level it at the nearest person I see. "This isn't an arena for fun."

Every sound in the room turns to silence. Pure, fearful, silence.

"Now that I have your undivided attention." I put my foot on the head of the droid. I crush it beneath my boot. "Who set this up?"

Not a word. They look among each other. I'd be disappointed if they ratted each other out so quickly. However, this isn't the time to be covering it up.

"Spit it out!"

Several fingers point to the Iridonian kid in the middle of the room. He huffs out his chest and crosses both arms over it. "Pretty good, huh?"

"If you wanted to get shot, then yes. As far as construction, it's completely shoddy work."

His pride fades out of his face. I holster my blaster. "Everyone of you, we're skipping our planned training. I want you all to run the Crucible."

"But that's for the–"

"I don't care." I put both hands on my hips. "Every. Single. One. Of. You. Run it till you get a perfect score. If you don't, you run it tomorrow."

"A perfect score?" A murmur through the room. Now they're scared. They should be. Scared will keep them alive.

I gesture to the door out. The Iridonian Cadet-Braze his name is–steps up and I put my hand on his chest. "And you're cleaning up this mess."

More pride fades. My commlink buzzes. What now? I grab it and stay behind as the cadets filter out.

"Copy," I mutter into the commlink.

"Officer, you are requested in the Grand Moffs office."

"Sir, I'm in the middle of training."

"Another officer will be assigned your duties. Report ASAP."

"Copy that." I shove the commlink and follow the rookies out. I raise my voice to a yell. "All of you! Someone else is filling in. I still want to see perfect scores when I get back."

A few heads turn. I know they gossip. This isn't the first prank they've pulled either. It might be their last.

I wave them on. They'll talk. I don't care. In a few months they'll be shipped out like the rest. Then it'll start all over again. New faces. New tricks. More pride to knock down a few pegs. I was probably like them once. Too much war changes you.

I proceed to the Grand Moff's office. He too relocated with me. Now that his project is off the ground, the ISB, he's taken the cozy route. Overseeing cadets must be a breeze when all the work falls on my shoulders.

A trooper, they're called Stormtroopers now, stands outside the door in dark armor. I casually salute and he opens the door for me.

"Sir?" I step inside.

"Kian." The Moff turns around. There's a panoramic view outside of his office window. All of space. This isn't just some training base. This is the base. The star destroyer known as Ground Zero. The brightest and the best come off this ship.

The Moff steps down and looks at me. "I doubt you keep up with politics, but I do. Tonight there will be an Imperial gala on Naboo. Several high ranking officers and senators will be there. I'm told even Bail Organna and his daughter might appear."

"And you're telling me this why, sir?"

"I need security."

I glance back at the trooper in the open doorway. The Moff strides past me. He closes the door. "I need security I can trust."

"I trained all these men, sir."

"You did, but they don't possess your loyalty. Nor do they possess your experience."

I lift a brow. "You're not going to listen to political prattle?"

"I believe there may be more insurrectionists in our ranks. Surely you've heard the rumors. Rebel attacks, insurrection, civilian riots. Naboo is not free of them, nor is any planet. I will need a second set of eyes and ears. Someone who can be anywhere."

I lift my chin a few inches. "I understand."

"Good man. I will assign your cadets to another officer for now. I'm sure they will turn out fine."

"Yessir." They'd better.

"One more note," The Moff folds his hands behind his back and begins to pace back to his desk. "Many important faces will be attending. This Gala is something of a...show. I of course expect no particular threat, but I know better than to anticipate a quiet evening. We still have many enemies."

"Understood, sir."

"Thank you." The moff sits. He sets his hands on the desk and looks at them firmly. "One final thing."

I cock an eyebrow.

He smiles, then shakes his head. "Nevermind. It will be better to discuss after."

The Moff's words leave a twist in my gut, but I keep up my stoicism. "Yessir," I whisper.

"Please prepare quickly. We shall be arriving at 1500." He waves to the door and almost smirks. "I do hope you don't mind a crowd."

[junkissed]

ocean view

member — junhui x f reader genre — romance, smut, strangers to lovers, soulmate au word count — 8.8k synopsis — an all expenses paid trip to greece for your friend's wedding seems too good to be true, but it gets even better when you meet a handsome stranger on the beach. with the help of a mysterious old lady, her magic deck of tarot cards, and one too many coincidences, you're starting to believe things really do happen for a reason. warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, unprotected sex, fingering, marking, an oddly romantic one night stand, mentions of past hookups, reader wears dresses, way too much yearning, happy ending ! notes — my part for the @svthub world tour collab; check out the masterlist here! thanks to @multi-kpop-fanfics for answering all my questions and the biggest thanks ever to @onlymingyus for proofreading & helping me brainstorm throughout !! inspired mostly by the spell mv but also a little bit from nana tour and in the soop bc of the vacation vibes. disclaimer i know nothing about tarot but i did a ton of research so i hope that part makes sense anyway :) this fic was a huge challenge to write so please please reblog if you enjoyed reading, the feedback is super appreciated and it helps me keep writing!! read bonus material here!

they say time flies when you’re having fun.

it felt like just days ago when your best friend had announced she was flying everyone to athens for her destination wedding. between helping prepare for the wedding and getting yourself packed for the trip of a lifetime, a weekend on the beach sounded like exactly what you needed to unwind.

but now that you’re here, you’ve quickly realized that your dreams of lazy spa days, massages, and lounging on chairs in the sand with cocktails aren’t on your friend’s itinerary.

what is on her itinerary, however? clubs. lots of clubs, and bars, and raves.

the night before the wedding, you’d showed up at the place you had all planned to meet at for her bachelorette party, a popular bar right on the beach in the center of everything. you hadn’t been sure what to expect, so you’d worn your swimsuit underneath your sundress just in case. between wedding plans and jet lag, you hadn’t yet had the chance to explore the beaches, and you weren’t about to let your favorite white strappy one-piece go to waste without wearing it the whole trip; especially not when you’re surrounded by gorgeous clear waters you don’t get to see while you’re at home.

you tug at your dress a little awkwardly, a simple off-white piece with buttons all down the front. cute and casual, the perfect thing for an evening on the beach. except an evening on the beach is not what you’re getting.

“next round is on me!”

all the girls let out a cheer, clapping and whooping as they raise their glasses. you’re still not even halfway through your first drink; the night is young, but your friends are more enthusiastic partygoers than you are.

you lean away to check the time on your phone, trying not to feel defeated when you see how early it still is. you’ve been trying to hype yourself up for tonight all weekend, but it doesn’t help that your friends are bigger partiers than you. that isn’t to say that you dislike parties, or that you never go out; but parties like this, huge events with hundreds of people packed into a small space with loud music and flashing lights, aren’t really your ideal way to spend a saturday night. even for such a special, rare occasion like a bachelorette party in another country, you can’t bring yourself to get lost in the scene. you should’ve known how this would go, and yet here you are, standing at a cocktail table by yourself surrounded by drunk women.

you turn back around and suddenly the bar is a sea of unfamiliar faces, everyone around you lost in their own worlds jumping and dancing to the music that booms from the speakers. you stand up on your tiptoes to see above the crowd, trying to push your way through in search of someone you recognize, but it seems like they’ve all vanished.

the pounding of the music is starting to give you a headache, so you down the last of your drink and head away from the bar, pushing past people until the crowd eventually starts to thin and you break out into the open air.

it’s still light outside, but the contrast from the darkened bar makes it feel like stepping into another world. the noise gets quieter the farther away you move, and you find your feet carrying themselves down the beach. you walk backwards, turning to look over your shoulder one more time to see if you can spot your friends, but all you see is a crowd full of strangers.

it’s easier to breathe out here, feeling the freshness of the ocean breeze and the salty air in your lungs as you get further and further from the people and the businesses. you turn around again and almost run straight into a man walking from the opposite direction, and you stumble into his arms before you realize what’s happening. you let out a little squeak in surprise and jump backwards, almost tripping over your own feet but his hand instinctively shoots around your waist to help keep you upright.

your cheeks burn with embarrassment, an apology already ready on your lips, but he beats you to it. “sorry,” he says with a shy laugh, slowly letting go of you and offering his hand for balance as you slip your sandal back on that had come off. he steps back and gives you a polite smile, trying to move out of your way. “you look like you’ve got somewhere to be.”

“the opposite, actually. escaping my friend's bachelorette party," you explain. 

"we're in the same boat, then," he chuckles, tucking his hands into the pockets of his shorts. "trying to ditch the bachelor party. it’s a popular place for weddings, huh?”

“seems like it.” you hum, turning to look out over the water. the setting sun glints off the surface, a clear and bright sparkling blue, and you lift your hand to keep the glare out of your eyes. “i just didn’t think it’d be so…”

“…hectic?” he asks, and you laugh a little.

"yeah, you could say that.” a warm breeze ruffles through your sundress, and you cross your arms over your chest. “i guess all weddings are like that, though.”

he nods, following your gaze off into the horizon. you go quiet, listening to the music still loud in the distance and the sound of seagulls cawing above your heads. "i was hoping to get a chance to explore more of the beaches while i'm here. i don’t get to see it often."

"wanna go for a walk?” you ask suddenly, uncrossing your arms. maybe it’s the fresh air of a new place, maybe it’s the comfort of finding another person wanting to get away from it all, but some part of you wants to stay here and find out. you’d wanted to see more of the landscape anyway, and now seems like as good a time as any, especially now that you’ve got company.

he looks over at you, judging your expression before his face softens. “that sounds perfect.”

it’s still early enough that the beach is still mostly full of tourists, adults lounging on towels while reading books and kids splashing water at each other and playing in the sand. you walk further down the beach, passing in front of a grey haired old woman sitting cross-legged on a towel, shuffling a deck of cards in her wrinkled hands.

"always lovely to see couples enjoying the islands,” she calls out to you. there’s an almost rhythmic lilt to her voice, and it’s so sudden that it makes both of you pause and turn around, having paid her no mind as you walked past before. she gestures down at the deck and you finally notice that she’s holding a set of tarot cards, a deep matte black that seems to glitter and sparkle even while shadowed. “would you like a reading?”

your cheeks start to warm, and you push down the butterflies that flutter to life when she assumes you’re together. "oh, no, we're not—”

"sure," jun says over you, and you sneak a glance up at him when you think he's not looking. "how much?"

she clucks her teeth and shakes her head, staring directly at you although she’s answering his question. "no, no, no, my dear. just offering a bit of friendly advice. won’t cost you a thing."

jun nods, but she seems like she’s waiting for your answer so you quickly nod, too. “okay. what… do we have to do?”

she places her palms over the deck and closes her eyes, falling silent. you stand in front of her, feeling a little awkward to be hovering over her like this, but she it’s like she doesn’t even notice. you share a look with jun, but after a beat he grabs your hand and grins as if to say, just go along with it.

her eyes suddenly fly open and she seems pleased with whatever she was doing. “i knew i could feel it,” she says cryptically as she begins shuffling the cards. “but let’s just see what fate has to say about it.”

she stops and pulls the top two cards from the deck, placing them face down on the towel as she motions at them with her hand. at her signal, jun bends forward and turns over one of the cards, reading it aloud. “ace of cups.”

“ace of cups,” she repeats. “an invitation. the open, uninhibited flow of emotions, creativity, and love; the awakening of your spirit. this is a new beginning for you, the start of a new season. trust yourself and your feelings, and embrace the opportunity to grow with your emotions.”

jun nods seriously like he’s taking in her words, but you can see the hint of a smile at the corner of his lips that he’s trying to suppress.

she looks at you expectantly, and you hesitate before realizing she’s waiting for you to flip over the second card. you cheeks heat as you read it, but you try not to let it show. “the… lovers?”

she smiles, and although her face looks kind you have a sense that there’s something she’s not telling. “the lovers,” she says, almost solemnly. “many people think this card is strictly about romance. and in some ways it is, but what it really represents is a choice. two diverging paths, two responsibilities. will you choose with your head, or with your heart?”

she stares at you for another moment, then looks back at jun. you both stay quiet and still, subconsciously hanging on her every word as she pauses, clearly having more to say. “having these two cards come up together… now, that’s fascinating for you two, isn’t it?”

you find yourself nodding silently, although you have no idea why. you feel jun’s hand in yours, warm and soft and grounding, and the smallest shiver runs down your spine.

“the lovers and the ace of cups are the potential for new beginnings and the fulfillment that comes with following your heart,” she says, her eyes locked with yours. “this is a very powerful and meaningful connection, but only if you make the choice that is most heartfelt. you must be willing to be your most authentic self and hold nothing back. keep your eyes open, and you will be rewarded with profound joy and happiness.”

immediately you turn to look at jun to see his reaction. he looks just as confused—but is that a hint of excitement in his eyes?—as you do. the woman’s words are… cryptic, to say the least, but it stirs up a feeling of excitement in the back of your mind that you’re trying to ignore. it probably doesn’t mean what you think it does, right?

"hey, wait, so what does—”

you turn back to look at the woman for another explanation, but there's no one there. the beach is empty except for you and jun and the slowly setting sun, a few boats tied up at the dock. you’ve walked so far down the beach that even the distant music has faded into obscurity and you’re left standing alone together, surrounded by nothing but the sounds of the waves. even the wind has died down, and it feels eerily quiet but in an almost comforting sort of way, to be alone together in a place like this.

"you believe in that kind of stuff?" you ask curiously as jun starts to walk away.

"mm… not really. but she seemed like a lonely old lady. i thought it'd make her day." he looks down at your entwined hands and squeezes lightly, almost teasing as you look up and see the grin on his face. "why, do you?"

you can't help the butterflies that instantly flutter to life in your stomach when you feel his warm hand in yours, but you shrug. "why not?"

jun doesn't reply, just nodding thoughtfully as you continue to walk hand in hand. 

with the way the atmosphere has suddenly changed, it feels like time has stopped as you meander your way along the edge of the water. you chat off and on with jun, but there’s a hefty amount of silence that neither one of you feels obligated to fill. talking to jun feels like talking to an old friend, and maybe it’s the beautiful scenery or maybe it’s the way both of you had found yourselves here looking for company.

after a while you come to a stop just below the rocks where you’d started. your footprints from where you’d run into each other are still visible, little indents in the damp sand, and it reminds you of what you were running away from in the first place. maybe you don’t want to run anymore. 

"well…”  jun says, inhaling slowly. "we should get you back to your friends. i'm sure they're looking for you."

"would it be so bad if i said i didn't want to find them?"

he pauses to gauge your reaction, and you don’t miss the flicker in his eyes as he looks at you. after a moment nods and points up the shallow cliffs, towards a little stone staircase worn down from years of being travelled on. "my hotel is just up there. if… if you wanted to stay a little longer? with me?"

you pull your lip between your teeth, looking up at him and the way the fading sunlight shines through his soft brown waves, and it only takes a second to make your decision. “i’d really like that.” 

it turns out that missing out on your friend’s party for a few more hours is an easy price to pay for more time with jun.

the door of his hotel room barely has time to shut before your hands are on each other. you tug him closer by shirt with an eagerness you rarely allow yourself and he immediately reciprocates, pulling you by the waist until you’re pressed chest to chest.

his hand skims over your collarbone towards your neck, and you shiver at the warmth of his fingers caressing the side of your jaw. he angles your chin upwards and leans in as you meet him halfway and your lips finally touch, a low sound escaping from your throat as his nose brushes your cheek.

he makes a soft noise as he inhales, deepening the kiss until you feel your knees go weak. his hand cups your jaw harder, trying to draw you further into him, unwilling to break apart. he kisses you so softly yet you can still feel the intensity behind every movement of his lips, exploring your mouth with a gentleness that feels more natural than anyone you’ve ever kissed before.

jun curls his arm around you tighter, and you’re sure he can hear how fast your heart is beating as he kisses you again and again until you’re breathless. you slide your hands away from his chest and start to undo the buttons at the front of your dress, but he stops you. you look up and meet his gaze as his hand on your cheek moves to wrap around your waist, carefully walking you backwards until the backs of your knees hit the bed and you let yourself fall back onto it.

he lets out a quiet groan as you pull him down with you, landing on top of you and catching himself on his forearms beside your head. his face is inches away from yours, staring into your eyes for a beat before he presses down to capture your lips again.

his kisses feel like magic, and you almost forget exactly what you’re here to do. you’d be content to spend hours with his lips on yours and nothing else, but you’re quickly pulled away from it when he sits back and starts to slide his hands down your body, his nimble fingers skillfully undoing the buttons of your dress one by one.

he pulls the fabric away and lets it fall to the floor before leaning to kiss you again, and a grateful sigh slips from your lips at his touch. your fingers tug at his shirt and he breaks away once more to quickly pull it off over his head, tossing it behind him without a second thought.

your hands slide earnestly across his body, your fingertips trailing down his torso and the deep lines of his abs. his fingers brush over your swimsuit in tandem, tracing the cutouts of the fabric where your skin is visible and making you prickle with goosebumps at his touch.

he seems equally as content to just continue doing this, but eventually his hands make their way upwards and gently slip the straps off your shoulders. he doesn't move any further than that, waiting for you to move instead, his fingers resting at the base of your neck just beneath your chin. 

you follow his actions and shimmy the suit down, letting it bunch up at your hips. only then does he finally break apart from you, moving his mouth down to your exposed breast and letting his tongue glide over your peaked nipple. your skin tastes like salt and sweat, like sunny days and warm breezy nights, and he can't get enough of you.

the first moan you let out is like music to his ears, and immediately he craves more of them. he wraps his mouth around your other nipple while keeping his hands attached to your body like magnets, desperate to be the one to draw more of those pretty noises from your lips.

you lift your hips just a little and he quickly gets the hint, wordlessly pushing his fingers between your skin and the fabric of your swimsuit before tugging it all the way off. he pulls it down your legs and you help him kick it away, leaving you completely bare beneath him.

your hands slide across his shoulders and up the back of his neck, tangling in his hair with another moan that sends a shiver down his spine. you can’t help but roll your hips upwards against his body, squirming for more friction as your nails scratch at his scalp.

his face stays buried in your chest for a long time, moving between your breasts and planting wet kisses all along your skin. your head is spinning at the sight of this gorgeous man working his magic on your body, his hands wandering up and down with a tender purpose. you don't even know his name but you already know you're gonna be thinking about this night for months, probably even years. you're shocked at how good he is at this; there's a melancholy feeling looming in the back of your mind, knowing that this is probably the first and only night you’ll get to spend with him, but you don't have time to focus on that when you have the tingly feeling in your stomach to focus on instead.

despite not saying anything aloud you can tell exactly what he wants from you, and something about how easy this is sends a feeling of relief through you. all of the mistakes of your past hookups feel like a distant memory. there’s none of the empty conversations meant to do nothing more than fill the silence and the awkward, tentative movements that you’ve become accustomed to from strangers who aren’t familiar with your body. 

but something about the way jun touches you does feel familiar, like you’ve been waiting all your life for it, for him. his silence, something that most of your partners in the past had fought so hard to avoid, now only leaves more room for you to enjoy the sounds that often go overlooked: the wet hum as his lips connect with your skin, the distant crash of waves outside the window, the quiet whir of the ceiling fan.

jun leans down and kisses you again, shifting on top of you as his hand wanders down your hips. you pull him closer and let your hand travel a similar path, and you bite your lip in excitement when your fingers skim over the bulge straining against his shorts.

he lets out a strangled noise almost like a whimper at the contact but the sound only encourages you to add more pressure, soaking in his reactions. he whines again, pushing his hips into your hand and exhaling a shaky breath as you continue to palm him, feeling the hard outline of his cock as he struggles to keep his composure.

his knee is against your thigh and he repositions himself to press it higher between your legs, returning the favor and giving you something to grind on. instinctively your legs widen a little to give him easier access, and he rewards you with another hot, messy kiss.

you groan at the feeling, pushing your hips down towards him and rubbing yourself on him. it’s a little rough at first, but you’re already so wet that it doesn’t take long before his knee is coated in your arousal and you slide along him easily. 

after a minute he pulls back just an inch, giving you room to breathe, but one hand is still on your hip and the other curled behind you to support your neck. “good?” he asks breathlessly, and even though it’s clear as day that you’re enjoying this as much as he is, you still nod and give him an encouraging smile, and he returns it with a smile of his own. “just let me know,” he says, and the sultry yet sweet tone of his voice makes your heart skip a beat.

at your approval his hand begins to wander again, trailing over the top of your thigh. his finger slowly make their way down and you shiver, your hand stilled against his abdomen as you anticipate his next move.

you take this moment to get a good look at him; you’d been too shy to stare earlier on the beach, unsure how things were going to go. but now that he’s on top of you, shirtless and obviously just as eager as you are, you let your gaze roam unabashedly across his body. your eyes glide over his torso, the hollow slope of his collarbones and his hardened nipples, the deep-set grooves of his abs and the faint lines of his ribs beneath his skin. you want to reach out to touch him and run your hands over every inch of him, but you’re trying to be patient. and although you know your time here is limited, it seems like jun is only just getting started.

his fingers finally make it to your inner thighs, tracing the area around your pussy, but it’s still not close enough for your liking. you wiggle a little to try and encourage him, whining softly and letting out a little plea. his lips quirk up and he nods, his grip on the back of your neck tensing and tangling in your hair. 

his fingers finally brush against your entrance and you gasp, writhing at how gentle his touch is. he dips his middle finger into your heat before pulling it back out, trailing upwards to your clit to circle it for a moment before heading back down and repeating the process. it’s barely enough, yet it leaves you breathless almost instantly.

he’s staring down between your legs with an intense focus, spreading your arousal around before sinking back into you for more. and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pushes his finger in deeper, holding it still for a second even though you’ve already adjusted to it. he waits until you start moving, arching your back and trying to get him to go further, before he adds his ring finger and begins slowly thrusting both fingers in and out together.

you whimper and curse under your breath, trying to roll your hips to match his rhythm. he starts to curl his knuckles and you swear you see stars, despite the fact that he’s barely moving at all.

after a moment when you’ve regained the ability to breathe normally again you start to move your hand back against his bulge, shaky fingers dipping beneath the waistband of his shorts. you wrap your hand around him and your eyes widen at the thickness, the heavy weight of him in your hand and how you’re sure he must be aching by now. you feel the way his cock jerks when you squeeze ever so slightly, his fingers inside you freezing for a split second as his brain tries to process before he plunges them in even deeper, curling into you with even more fervor than before.

you hold him tighter and run your thumb over his tip, swollen and leaking with precum. he gets a little noisier with every move you make, unable to contain the pleasure he gets even from this. even the smallest touches from each other have both of you on edge in a way you’ve never felt before, drawn to each other like no one you’ve ever had before.

his clothes in the way are starting to frustrate you, so after another second you release his cock and move your hand up to the waistband of his shorts instead, trying to tug them down but it’s difficult from the position you’re both laying in.

“please,” you pant out desperately after having little success, and he obliges, pushing his shorts away as fast as possible before resuming his motions. he’s still almost completely ignoring himself as he continues to focus on you and only you, and his complete devotion gives you another boost of confidence.

now freed, his hard cock slaps against your thigh and you moan happily at finally being able to see all of him. it looks even better than it felt, thick veins bulging out across his length and his tip flushed a deep red. you wrap your hand around him once more, flicking your wrist as you start to jerk up and down.

his fingers curl upwards to massage the spot that makes your eyes roll back, and if you had any functioning thoughts left you would’ve marvelled at the fact that he was able to find it so easily, but you’re too busy arching your back against his pillow to think about that.

he can feel you starting to clench harder around him, making his fingers stutter inside you, so he pushes his other hand down on your hip to stop you from moving so much. he pulls his fingers out and your eyes dart back up to his face for an explanation, unable to stop the whimper that escapes from you at the loss, but the look in his eyes instantly puts you at ease. you can already tell he knows what he’s doing, and somehow he seems to know exactly what you need, so for once you don’t mind sitting back and letting someone else call the shots.

“can i fuck you now?” he murmurs, and it takes you a second to even hear what he said because you’re shocked at how low and rough his tone is since the last time you heard him speak. he wipes his fingers against the inside of your thigh as he waits for your reply, and you shiver at the cool wetness on your skin.

the best you can manage is a stuttered “yes”, and without a word of acknowledgement he pulls you off the bed, guiding you off your back and onto your hands and knees.

you let out a squeak at the sudden change but you let it happen, and a second later you hear his voice beside you, his breath warm against your ear. “still okay?” he asks, and despite the gruffness in his voice you can still hear the soft edge to his words.

“yeah,” you repeat, suddenly losing the ability to say anything else to express your pleasure, but somehow you know he understands. your stomach flutters at the low tone of his voice, steady and calm but so full of warmth and lust.

you feel the heat from his face move away from your skin, and you know he’s sitting up on his knees behind you. his hands slide down your sides, reaching under you to cup your boobs with both hands as he groans at the feeling. you let out a matching whine, pushing your hips back against him to feel his hard length against the soft flesh of your ass.

his hands still holding your breasts, he leans down over you to keep you flush to his body, your back pressed against his chest. he presses a kiss in between your shoulder blades, letting his tongue trace lightly over the ridges of your spine.

you grind backwards against him harder, your body on fire from his kisses as he starts to suck gently at the back of your shoulder. you’re not sure if it’s hard enough to leave marks, but you kind of hope they do, because then you’d be sure this encounter wasn’t a dream. what other explanation is there for the fact that you’ve not only met the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life, but that you’re currently on your hands and knees in his bed as he runs his lips over every single inch of you, waiting for him to fuck you? it’s too good to be true.

but it is true, and you know it when he pulls away to brush your hair to the side and expose more of your back for him. his fingers are still so gentle against your skin, his touch heavy but soft, and it makes you even more desperate for him.

after a while he lets go of you and leans back, taking his cock in his hand and gently tapping it against your ass. you groan and fall forward, pressing your face into the pillows and arching your hips up into the air. his hands slide down your sides, gripping your waist with a low groan as he leans forward to kiss the side of your neck again.

he finally pushes all the way into you, and it feels so good it takes your breath away for a second. you can feel your walls throbbing around him, struggling to adjust to the feeling of being so full in the best way, a way you haven’t felt this strongly in so long. it’s a feeling like no other, and it makes you wonder why you ever settled for anything else before this.

his hands are all over you like he can’t decide what to do first, but after a while they settle at your hips and give them an encouraging squeeze, waiting patiently for you to set the pace. finally you bring yourself to move, tipping forward to let him slide out of you just a bit before you lean back into him.

he adapts quickly to your rhythm, thrusting in and out and matching your pace, using his grip on your waist for leverage to push himself deep inside with every stroke.

“fuck,” he moans under his breath, finally breaking the silence, and with just that one sound you feel yourself starting to let go.

the words tumble out of your mouth and you ball your fists into his sheets, clinging to the bed to keep you grounded while your head is spinning. “please, please, yes—”

everything finally hits you all at once, like a tidal wave pouring over you as you fall forward and bury your face into the pillow with a broken whimper.

“don’t stop, please,” you whine breathlessly. your words are muffled by the pillow, but you can tell he’s heard them because his grip on your hips tightens even more, slamming into you with just as much force as before and carrying you through your orgasm.

jun has to bite his lip not to sail right over the edge with you, focusing all his energy on holding himself back until he feels your body go limp all at once, the waves finally subsiding and you let out a deep, pleasured exhale. he’s so close he can practically taste it, his skin flushed and damp with sweat and his abs burning with exertion. only once he’s absolutely sure that you’ve finished cumming does he let himself break, pulling out as fast as he can and wrapping his fist around his length with all the energy he has left.

he moans weakly at the loss of your tight, warm walls hugging him so perfectly, but the view as he jerks himself over you all but makes up for it. the sight of your ass pressed flush against his thighs, your lower back arched and on display like a gorgeous blank canvas, and it gives him such a rush until he can’t hold on anymore.

the warm, sticky liquid hits your back and you whimper into the pillow, instinctively lifting your hips even more towards him. his cum spurts out in thick ropes, painting your skin and pooling in the little divot at the base of your spine, running down your ass until it feels like you’re soaked in it.

he finally pulls back and lets out the breath he didn’t know he was holding in, groaning as he sees you sitting still on the bed with your hips in the air. you feel the bed shift with his weight as he gets up, but you don’t pay any attention to it as you focus on trying to steady your breathing instead. something in your gut tells you to stay put, and sure enough, a minute later you hear the sink running and then feel the cool fabric of a damp washcloth brushing over your back.

he lays his hand on your ass and gently gives it a little squeeze to signal that he’s finished, and you finally fall over onto your side. you’re coasting on cloud nine, and everything feels both dulled and hypersensitive at the same time. the whir of the overhead fan is a little more prominent now, and the quiet drone echoes around in your brain.

“do you need water? or do you want a snack, or something?” jun asks, and while his voice still has a touch of shakiness as he’s recovering himself, you can tell his tone is back to the gentle and polite sound you’ve become used to hearing from him.

you shake your head, and he hums softly in acknowledgement as he points to the nightstand on the side of the bed closest to you. “there’s an extra water bottle there, if you need it. i haven’t opened it.”

you nod against the sheets, suddenly too tired to even think about forming words. jun climbs back onto the bed next to you, stretching out his long limbs and leaning against the headboard with a satisfied sigh. 

you surprise yourself when your body automatically reaches out for him, curling into his body and laying your hand across his forearm like a weight keeping him close. but what surprises you even more is when he mirrors the action, scooting closer to you and letting your head rest against his stomach. your first thought is that he makes a very comfortable pillow, and you let your eyes fall shut for a moment as your breathing returns to normal, wanting to savor this moment as you collect yourself and prepare to leave.

you open your eyes what feels like minutes later, but when you reach over to check your phone you realize you’ve been asleep for more than an hour. you inhale slowly and swallow, blinking a few times as the sore feeling in your hips reminds you of where you are.

instinctively, you start to panic a little. your friends are probably looking for you. you disappeared without telling anyone, and now you have to get back to your hotel and make sure you have enough time to sleep properly and get ready for the wedding in the morning. never mind that it was probably the best night you’ve ever spent with another person, and never mind that your friends are probably still out partying and haven’t even noticed you missing yet.

you slide off of the bed as quietly as you can, stumbling a little when your feet hit the floor. you crouch down to pick up your swimsuit off the floor and put it on, hopping on one foot as you slip each leg through the holes. it's darker outside now, but the street lamps and the moonlight shining through the sliding glass door that leads to the balcony of his hotel room are bright enough that it still feels like day. you're so focused on getting dressed and mentally running over your to-do list that you completely forget there's another person in the room until you hear his voice cutting through the silence.

“you don’t have to do that, y’know.”

you freeze and look up, your half-buttoned dress hanging loosely from your shoulders, your cheeks burning at the realization you’ve been caught.

jun swings his legs off the bed, crossing the room in a couple of strides before he’s standing in front of you. he’s wearing nothing except for the boxer shorts he threw on right before you fell asleep, and your cheeks flush even harder at the sight, despite the fact that you’ve already seen much more of him than this.

it takes every ounce of restraint you have to keep your eyes from straying, locked on his face before your gaze falls quickly to the floor where your sandals are left in a heap.

you didn’t mean to sneak off. but what else were you supposed to do? you hadn’t meant to fall asleep and stay as long as you did, either, and now you were stuck with the awkward conversation that always comes afterwards. the inevitable hurried goodbyes and uncomfortable tension as you try to put yourself back together and leave as fast as possible.

jun takes a small step closer to you, and despite all the confidence you know he has, it feels almost… tentative. as if you’re meeting for the first time and he isn’t sure whether or not he’s allowed to touch you yet.

there's a lingering feeling that you can't quite put your finger on yet. it's conflicting, because you know you can't stay but everything in you is screaming not to leave. maybe there's something you can do, anything you can do. is it all worth it? to turn your life around in a complete 180 for someone you barely even know— and yet, the last few hours that you’ve spent with him have been incomparably the best of your life.

after a moment he reaches out and starts to finish buttoning your dress for you, his fingers working them back through the loops with just as much care as he did when he was taking them off earlier.

“sorry,” you manage quietly, though you’re not even really sure what you’re apologizing for. a lot of things: sorry for running away, sorry for having feelings you probably shouldn’t be feeling, sorry for knowing this won’t work out despite the way you really, really wish it could.

but he just shakes his head as he finishes buttoning the last button. “i took it off. i can help you put it back on, too.” you can tell he knows what you had actually meant, but he’s ignoring it either for your sake or his. something about his words feels so easy, like all the problems in your head don’t mean anything anymore. here you are, an anxious and awkward and confused mess, and there he is, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress like it’s something he’s been doing all his life.

he adjusts the strap on your shoulder with a gentle pat, but his hands linger for a few seconds longer than they should, and you lift your eyes to meet his. “can i kiss you again?” he asks quietly, and for some reason his choice of words sticks with you. not one final kiss, not a goodbye kiss, just again. like he’s refusing to admit this will probably be the last time you’ll ever see each other.

and you nod, and his hands slide up to cup your cheeks and pull you back into his lips, just as warm and just as soft and just as familiar as the first time. there’s something so innocent about kissing him, even in the midst of a complicated and confusing mess of emotions that makes you second guess everything. somewhere in the back of your mind you vaguely register that this is the last time you’ll ever kiss him, but as long as his lips are on yours it doesn’t matter. you’ll figure out how to deal with all that later; for now, the only thing you’re concerned about is the way he grips your chin and pulls you even closer.

it feels like hours later when you finally pull away, letting out a slow exhale as you try to blink yourself back to reality, and you know what has to happen now. “can you find your hotel on your own? do you want me to walk back with you?” jun asks, and you can feel the hesitancy in his voice.

“it’s not far,” you sigh quietly, turning away to slip your feet into your sandals that wait by the bed where you’d taken them off earlier. you should’ve said yes. “but… thank you.” your words hold a sincere weight to them, and it’s silent for a few seconds as you cross the room quicker than you want to.

“you could stay,” he says finally, but his hand is already on the doorknob and you both already know the answer. you hate that you have to be the one to tell him no, even though it’s been clear from the start what the outcome would be. you give him a small shake of your head, and he pulls on the knob. 

he stands and stares for a minute, watching you walk down the hallway and praying you’ll turn around. and then you do, glancing back at him over your shoulder, and he almost allows himself to have a little bit of hope that you might come back, even though you both know you can’t. when you find him still standing in the doorway your eyes light up just the slightest bit, and finally you disappear with a tiny little wave.

the door clicks shut again, and the silence that follows is louder than anything he’s heard all day.

“and you didn’t even get this guy’s number?!”

you wince at the tone in jeonghan’s voice, rubbing the back of your shoulder guiltily. “his name, either.”

“even after the magic old lady said all that shit about soulmates?”

“she didn’t say that!” you huff. your tone rises almost defensively, although it probably has no reason to. she didn’t say anything about being soulmates… right? “she said something like, ‘keep your eyes open for stuff around you’. but he said he didn’t even believe in it, anyway.”

a waiter carrying a tray of champagne glasses walks past, and he snags a couple of them, holding one out to you. “well, it doesn’t sound like you’re keeping your eyes open. it sounds more like your eyes are closed, actually. are you blind?”

you scowl and take the glass from him. “my flight home is tonight, hannie. i’m not gonna see him again.” you take a sip, letting it sit in your mouth for a second before you swallow. “and besides, he said he was here for a wedding, too. he could be from anywhere in the world. it would be impossible to find him.”

“doesn’t hurt to at least try.” you both stop in front of a circular table covered in flowers, with a little placard next to one of the plates with jeonghan’s name on it. “i guess this is my table. you want me to help you look for yours?”

you shake your head, pointing to a table a little ways away. “i saw mine on the way in, it’s over there.”

“whatever,” he hums at you, but you know he’s just teasing. “i still wouldn’t blame you if you ditched and ran off to try and find him.”

“not happening!” you call over your shoulder as you walk away, matching his playful tone. but you can’t help but feel like maybe he’s right.

jun taps his fingers against the table, staring mindlessly at the bubbles floating in his glass of champagne. he’s stuck in his head— no, that’s not right. that’s not the problem. you’re stuck in his head. it’s nearly a full day later and he hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you, the taste of your lips, the feel of your breasts in his hands, the scent of the shampoo in your hair. if that wasn’t the most perfect hookup in the history of hookups, then he doesn’t wanna know what is.

he still feels bad for not even paying attention during the ceremony, because he was too busy imagining you and him up there on the altar kissing instead. god, what he wouldn’t give for another kiss like that. but just like you, he knows it never would’ve worked out, and despite the what-ifs that are chewing him up inside and the fact that he definitely, absolutely, totally would’ve tried to make it work however large the distance was, he knows it’s probably for the better. even if it means he’s gonna spend the rest of his life pining after a girl he met on vacation for less than a single day, and he’ll never even know your name.

he takes a swig of his champagne and tries to put on a cheery face. this is a wedding, after all, and he can’t afford to spend all his time pouting when he’s in a beautiful city by the seaside enjoying delicious food and near perfect weather.

and then he sees you.

not really, of course, because it’s probably the champagne going to his head after chugging the majority of his glass like a frat boy at a college party. but then he blinks, and it really is you, wandering around for a second before you sit down at a table on the other side of the venue, wearing a soft blue dress that’s even prettier than the one he saw you in yesterday.

he blinks again, not fully believing that it’s you and not just the combined effect of the alcohol and his daydreams, but you’re still there when he opens his eyes again. and he knows it’s you, because he can see the faint hickies on your back and shoulders that you clearly tried to hide with makeup but couldn’t fully reach.

the chances that he’d see you again—not even that, but the chances that you’d be attending the very same wedding he was—must be one in a billion. maybe even more. yet there you are, picking at your nail and staring wistfully at your empty plate as you wait for the reception to start.

he stares for another minute, just to make sure you’re actually real, before he stands up and makes his way to the terrace at the back of the venue where the groom is standing next to a tower of cupcakes.

“gyu,” he greets him, “hey. are we allowed to switch tables?”

“i… don’t think so?” mingyu hums, a little off guard by the sudden question. “i made sure we put you next to hao, but—”

“if i give you twenty bucks, can you put me at table 8 instead?” jun’s eyes flicker with desperation, and he has to force himself not to look back over at you.

mingyu whines apologetically and hesitates, glancing at his bride a little ways away as she talks to a table full of guests. “she did all this planning, jun, i can’t just change everything now…”

“it’s not changing everything.” jun pulls his wallet out of his pants pocket, already rifling through the bills. “i’ll make it a hundred. mingyu, please, just switch me,” he says.

the whine in jun’s voice makes him pause, and he bites his lip as he considers it. on one hand, he could have his brand new wife a little bit mad at him for a while (who’ll probably forgive him the second she gets in bed with him tonight), plus get to help his friend and get an easy hundred dollars out of it. or, on the other hand… he could not help him, and his wife would never know, and jun would probably hate him for some unknown reason even though he doesn’t think jun has a single bone in his body capable of hating anybody. the decision is easy.

mingyu takes the bills from jun’s hand and stuffs them in his pocket before anyone can notice. “go ahead,” he says, tossing his head in the direction of the table. “i don’t know what it is you want, but don’t let anybody see you.”

“thanks! i owe you!” jun grins and hugs him, letting out a noise almost like a squeal before he turns and dashes away.

you’re barely paying attention to the reception anymore as you sit with your chin in your hands, again mentally running over all the things you need to pack and how on earth you’re going to be able to board your flight tonight and leave everything behind. the beaches, the city… and him. how are you supposed to just get on a plane and get on with your life, knowing that he’s out there somewhere in the world, and you’re never going to see him again. 

you’re trying not to sulk, but you can’t help the way your mood has been sour all morning, already filled with regrets and you haven’t even left yet. maybe you should’ve skipped the wedding altogether and spent another day in his bed, wrapped up between his sheets and lying in his arms. but then the rational part of your brain reminds you that he was also in town for a wedding, so even if he’d wanted to or even been okay with doing that, he probably had other plans anyway.

you’re still trying to figure out what to do about your hopeless situation when you hear a sound close behind you. it startles you into putting a smile on your face, preparing yourself to socialize although you really aren’t in the mood to.

“is this seat taken?” jun asks as he pulls out the chair to your left and sits down.

your brows furrow in confusion, trying to place the familiar voice, until you turn around and your jaw drops when you see who it belongs to.

you stare at him in shock, your eyes darting back and forth between his trying to figure out what to say. “you’re not joshua,” is the best you can come up with as your mouth hangs open and you whip your head around to check the list of names assigned to this table. you recognize them all, yet here he is: the nameless stranger you’ve fallen so helplessly in love with in so short an amount of time.

he smiles at your reaction, and it’s such a genuine smile that you know he’s feeling exactly the way you do right now. “i guess you’re right. i’m not.” he brushes the name card in front of him to the side and sets his own down in its place instead before he holds out his hand to shake. “it’s nice to meet you. i’m jun.”

you pause for a minute, staring at his hand. you can’t believe this is real, you can’t believe he’s real; you’d almost been able to convince yourself that the whole encounter last night was a fever dream, if you hadn’t woken up in the morning with a soreness between your legs that screamed that it definitely was not a dream.

finally you reach out and take his hand, and even in that little touch you can tell it really is him, from the way your heart picks up when you feel the familiar softness of his skin and the gentle squeeze that sends goosebumps down your arm.

“it’s nice to meet you, too.”

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[naminethewitch]

@edupunkn00b There's quite a few I could tag you in but this one I'm super proud of and barely anyone read it, so it gets first dibs 😉

Cursed Woods

Is it really already the last day of @roceit2023? It was a very fun event to participate in, thank you very much to the organizer(s)! 🥰 So let's end this week of pure fluff with some angst 😈

Here on Ao3

Masterpost | Roceit Week 2023 Masterpost

Summary: Roman is almost home! If only he could convince Janus to go with him.

Content Warnings: Off Screen Physical Fighting, Ambiguous/Open Ending, Hurt No Comfort, Near Death Experience, Flashbacks

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Roman broke through the tree line, panting. Before him rose an archway of stone, otherworldly in its construction. Well, otherworldly to him at least. Stones drifted through the air, and a wild energy buzzed around the clearing.

This was it. He was sure of it.

Yelling from behind him startled him out of his awe. Janus was still behind him, engaged in battle with whatever creatures had attacked them this time. He couldn’t leave him to fend for his own.

~~~

“Who are you and where have you taken me!”

“I haven’t taken you anywhere. You were already here when I got here.”

“Lies! I wasn’t in the woods, I was…”

“Can’t recall?”

“Shut up! I was… What have you done with my memories, snake!”

“Nothing at all. I simply found you sleeping, my prince.”

“Aha! How did you know I was a prince? You are holding me for ransom, aren’t you?”

“You wear a crown, stranger. It was simply a guess.”

“I demand you bring me back to my country this instance!”

“I can help you get home, your highness, but it is not something I can just make happen. It’s a long journey to make, through treacherous lands.”

“Why should I trust you to lead me anywhere?”

“What choice do you have?”

~~~

“I found it, Janus!” Roman called. He spotted the snake-man not far away, avoiding the claw strikes of a monster, then cutting it down with his sword.

“Wonderful!” he answered once the beast wasn’t moving anymore, though he continued to look around for more attackers. “Then leave!”

“I’m not leaving you to fend for yourself!”

“I can handle them. You’re their prey!”

“I will not abandon you!” Roman cried as he jumped on a creature running up to him.

“Foolish!” Janus hissed as he took on a monster of his own.

~~~

“As much as I hate to admit it, you are a reliable fighter.”

“What high praise! I’m honored to have your approval, your highness.”

“I was giving you a compliment, no need to be so passive aggressive.”

“Maybe you should rethink your own tone then.”

“Tsk. Whatever. I still don’t trust you.”

“I am well aware.”

~~~

“I think that was the last of them.”

“I can’t hear any more at least,” Janus agreed and wiped his sword clean on the hide of one of the creatures. “Let’s get you to the portal before we’re proven wrong.” Roman nodded and lead Janus to the spot he found earlier. He watched his companion as they entered the clearing and saw a look of recognition in Janus’ eyes.

“Yes, this is it. This will lead you to where you need to go.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I can feel it.”

~~~

“Why are you helping me anyway?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“I’m a stranger and we’ve been attacked daily because of me. Don’t think I haven’t noticed that they are aiming for me more than you.”

“No, it’s true. You are their target.”

“So why are you helping me if it puts you in danger?”

“Isn’t it the right thing to do?”

“You don’t strike me as the righteous type.”

“Maybe not.”

“Then why?”

“I’m not sure. I feel like I know what it’s like, to be lost in a world you know nothing of. And there’s something that’s telling me to bring you to safety, though I don’t know what it is.”

“What do you mean you feel like you know what it’s like? Either you have experienced it, or you didn’t?”

“I wouldn’t know. There’s little I remember from before.”

“Before what?”

“I don’t know. I know there was a before but… I don’t know when that was. I think I wasn’t always here, but I don’t know how long it’s been. I also don’t think you’re the first one like you I met but I also can’t remember if I truly did.”

“That’s… weird.”

“It’s what I’m used to. Maybe one day it will make sense.”

“You don’t sound that worried.”

“I’m not. It wouldn’t get me anywhere anyway, so why bother? I know there will be time when I remember but that time isn’t now.”

“And you just accept that?”

“Yes. It’s all I know, after all.”

~~~

“Janus, come with me,” Roman pleaded, holding on to Janus’ hands. The other shook his head.

“I can’t, my prince.”

“You don’t know that!”

“I do know.”

“No, you don’t! At least try! Please? For me?”

“I wish I could, Roman, but it’s not where I’m meant to go.”

“Who cares about that? I want you with me. I want you to go with me. I love you. So please, just try. I can’t leave you.”

~~~

“Janus! Wake up! Don’t you dare leave me alone!”

“Don’t cry, my prince. Everything will be alright.”

“You’re hurt!”

“Yes. And I will heal. I always do.”

“The… the scales? They’re glowing?”

“They’ll grow over the wound. Just give it a minute.”

“So… all the others?”

“Yes.”

“You scared me!”

“I didn’t mean to, my prince. I’ll be fine.”

“Don’t you dare jump in front of me like that ever again.”

“I will protect you if you are in danger.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because I was an asshole to you. Why would you want to safe me?”

“Why are you crying for me, my prince?”

“Huh?”

“Why are you crying?”

“Because I care about you! Why else?!”

“Then you understand why I wish to protect you.”

“Wha-? Why would you care for someone like me?”

“How could I not?”

~~~

“Roman,” Janus mumbled, holding the prince’s face in his hands. “I know this is hard for you, but you need to go. Without me.”

“I don’t want to. If you don’t come with me, I’ll stay.”

“I can’t let you do that.”

“Why not? Why do you have to be left here all alone? Why do you insist on enduring this by yourself?!”

“You have people waiting for you, Roman. Your brother, your friends, your kingdom, remember? I’m not done here. I need to stay.” Roman was crying. He held on to the hands cupping his face tightly, afraid that Janus would vanish if he let him go.

“You don’t even know why you’re here! You’re sacrificing yourself for a simple feeling?! I can’t allow it! I won’t let you.”

“And I can’t let you interfere. I’m sorry.” Janus’ eyes started to glow and Roman quickly realized what he was attempting. He tried to break free of Janus’ grip, to break eye contact but he was too late. Janus’ spell was already taking effect.

“Don’t! Janus, please, don’t make me leave you!” he begged but despite Janus starting to cry as well, he didn’t stop.

“I am so sorry, my prince, but this is what needs to happen.”

“No! Please!”

“I’m sorry.” Janus took one last moment to take in Roman’s face before he spoke the command Roman wouldn’t be able to ignore: “Go home. Now.”

“Janus!” Roman cried as he was let go and his body moved by itself towards the portal. “I will find a way to get back to you, I swear!”

That was the last thing he said before he vanished in the swirling colors that had gathered in the archway. Janus watched the magic dissipate, still crying.

“I love you, too, my prince. I hope that if we meet again, I will be allowed to remember you.”