#happy halfway through the fic mark everyone

[robininthelabyrinth]

The Other Mountain - ao3 - Chapter 15

Pairing: Lan Qiren/Wen Ruohan

Warning Tags on Ao3

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“At least your catering was excellent,” Wen Ruohan said to the Jiang sect disciple showing them out the door, purposefully snide.

The discussion conference had been canceled, of course, or at least postponed by at least half a year, having never actually gotten properly started in the first place. It was a tremendous embarrassment to the Jiang sect, though most of it wasn’t even their fault – the Lan sect needed to go search for their missing heirs, the Wen sect had just shocked the world with their sect leader’s marriage, and then there was the assault of a sect leader that fell under the Jin sect’s purview…all the Jiang disciples looked on the verge of tears, seeing the results of what was undoubtedly months of effort disappear in a flash.

“I agree,” Lan Qiren said from his side, voice much less sarcastic. “It is a credit to your sect that you were able to stand together and maintain your sect’s dignity under such trying circumstances. As always, it can be seen that each of you strives to live up to your sect’s motto: achieve the impossible.”

The Jiang sect disciples at the door brightened under Lan Qiren’s praise, however measured. “Thank you, Teacher Lan! Have a good trip!”

Lan Qiren nodded at them and continued on his way with his hands tucked behind his back, Wen Ruohan easily keeping pace beside him.

“I did mean that as an insult, to be clear,” he remarked.

“To be clear, I do not care,” Lan Qiren replied, utterly at peace. “It is not their fault that Jiang Fengmian lacks the spine to get the sects back in line even within his own home.”

Wen Ruohan snickered, too delighted by Lan Qiren’s relatively unusual cattiness to complain further.

“How many people do you think have guessed by now that we know where your nephews are?” he asked. “And how many think they’re with us right now, despite all of our possessions having been searched three times over?”

They’d even dug into Lan Qiren’s clothing, tossing it this way and that, in what was very obviously meant to be an insult – it wasn’t as though two children could plausibly be hidden in a few bags’ worth of folded fabric, and the searchers had deliberately left everything a mess. Wen Ruohan had enthusiastically suggested that Lan Qiren consider simply forgoing clothing entirely rather than wear something stained with others’ fingers, but tragically the Jiang sect had been able to provide them with swift laundry service.

A pity, really. Wen Ruohan would have been more than happy to keep Lan Qiren company for as long as it took to find new clothing, and probably even longer. Especially after the display Lan Qiren had put on, draping himself in Wen sect colors and fashions and playing politics with all the skill of ten years’ able expertise, all of it for him…

The mere thought of it was driving Wen Ruohan insane.

He couldn’t stop thinking about it. From the first moment he had woken up and heard about it from his subordinates, to when he’d made his way around the Lotus Pier eavesdropping on the chaos Lan Qiren had left in his wake, the deliberate chaos that had left everyone with the Wen name on their tongues, to when he’d walked into the main hall and seen Lan Qiren standing there, proud and untouchable as any immortal. Lan Qiren, wearing his Wen colors and a low collar that hid nothing and instead proclaimed that the untouchable had been touched, and by the only man who deserved the honor…

The entire thing went round and round in Wen Ruohan’s mind, inflaming his desire until he was very nearly in pain with it.

Truly, sometimes he envied Lan Qiren’s lack of innate sexual impulse. It certainly seemed to make his life a great deal easier! It must be much more straightforward, not constantly feeling the rushing heat of yearning desire in reaction to sight and sound and thought…and it wasn’t as though the lack of impulse impacted Lan Qiren’s ability to perform or enjoy the act in any way, in much the same way a man accustomed to inedia could still enjoy food. It was only the irrepressible need for it that he lacked.

“Many will guess the truth,” Lan Qiren replied, and Wen Ruohan had to tear his mind out of the gutter and return it to the conversation they were having. “And the rest will figure it out once they have conferred with their wiser fellows. It is not that difficult to deduce that we must have had something to do with it, or at least it will not be once they are no longer distracted by constant twists and turns.”

“It was a shocking discussion conference-that-wasn’t, wasn’t it?”

“Mm.” Lan Qiren climbed into the carriage that would take them back to the Nightless City. When they were both seated, he said, very abruptly, “I want to compose something. For you.”

Wen Ruohan arched his eyebrows at the change in subject. “I have no objections. Some music would alleviate the boredom of a long journey quite well.”

Lan Qiren glared at him as if he were missing something. Wen Ruohan thought that that reaction was rather uncalled for, given that his suggestion would have been to see if they could fuck the entire way back. Wasn’t that what enclosed carriages were for?

(All right, it was to travel in comfort while allowing a large delegation to keep pace with each other for a lengthy journey; such a thing would be impossible with all of them on swords, so going by carriage was necessary to avoid embarrassing the weak and unnecessarily exhausting the strong. That wasn’t the point. The point was that they could, if they wanted to.)

After a moment, Lan Qiren seemed to realize his ire was misdirected and deflated somewhat, though he still looked grumpy. “Perhaps later,” he said with a faint sigh. “In the meantime, a gift to keep you occupied.”

He shook out his sleeves and put his left hand into Wen Ruohan’s lap. Not in any sexy way, either: his palm was facing upwards, his fingers lightly curled, the whole limb at rest, all white and red and pink and – black?

That wasn’t right.

Wen Ruohan frowned and peeled back Lan Qiren’s long undersleeve, revealing the purpling flesh of a particularly nasty bruise around his wrist. There were several indentations that were worse than the rest, visibly forming the shape of fingers – someone had grabbed Lan Qiren by the wrist and held him hard enough to bruise, hard enough to damage the muscle and grind the bone, to cause injury that Lan Qiren’s high cultivation was still working to fix it.

Someone had hurt Lan Qiren. How dare they?!

“Who…?”

“Your anger was not the purpose of the gift,” Lan Qiren said firmly before Wen Ruohan could really kick off into a rage – not least of all because it was evident that Lan Qiren had purposefully waited until they were on their way out of the Lotus Pier to reveal it to him, thereby robbing Wen Ruohan of the chance to find and destroy the person who’d dared to lay a finger on him. “Do not succumb to rage.”

“Oh?” Wen Ruohan said snidely. “Then what is its purpose?”

Lan Qiren sighed again, as if Wen Ruohan were the one being deliberately obtuse, and reached over to wrap Wen Ruohan’s fingers around his wrist. “I dislike bearing the marks of others, and I would have you fix the issue. And no, before you ask, I am not referring to your sect’s famed medical skills.”

Fix the issue? Without using medical skills, how was he supposed to fix –

Oh.

Wen Ruohan’s tongue darted out to lick his lips, his rage abruptly forgotten and his whole body suddenly aflame once more. “You would permit me to hurt you? To mark you anew, so that the only thing left on your body is me?”

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows at him. “I would not offer if I did not permit,” he said dryly. “And we are in an enclosed carriage, are we not?”

People did say that couples grew to resemble each other once they married, Wen Ruohan reflected as he pounced, sliding himself into Lan Qiren’s lap and pinning the other man’s injured wrist above his head to watch him wince. He’d never noticed that before with any of his wives, not even the first, but he thought he might be starting to see some aspects of it now.

Ah, but it was such an incredible rush, the power of knowing that he had lured Lan Qiren onto this path of darkness along with him. A rush to know, too, that they were walking the path together, walking side-by-side, Lan Qiren his equal in a way no one else was, the way no one else could be. The power of knowing that he’d had a hand in reshaping this rigid and implacable man, recasting him in a mold of his own making, taking all that he was and adding in Wen sect arrogance and reckless disregard, the sun so far above the rest as to leave them all behind. Even if Lan Qiren maintained his scholarly reserve, his insistence on abiding with his sect’s strict rules, his bone-deep commitment to his principles of justice and chivalry…well, that just made it all the sweeter when the fire Wen Ruohan had stoked beneath his cold stoicism flared out.

When he finally acted as though he understood what a treasure he was. As he should.

Even if other people still didn’t see it.

Wen Ruohan wondered idly if Lan Qiren knew that everyone in the cultivation world thought that he was the one receiving when they were in bed together. Jin Guangshan had made a few comments along those lines in his hearing, since he incorrectly viewed himself as being Wen Ruohan’s friend; he had been smirking and condescending, laughing as if he thought that Wen Ruohan were only fucking Lan Qiren in order to break him – which had admittedly been his initial aim, though now in retrospect Wen Ruohan was pleased not to have been so predictable. Qingheng-jun had said something disapproving about it, something which most people would take as mere Lan sect prudery and which Wen Ruohan knew to be instead genuine upset at the fact that Lan Qiren wasn’t suffering as much as he might have hoped. And based on his reaction, it was clear that Lao Nie, who really ought to have known better than to make assumptions one way or the other, had also thought (initially, anyway) that Wen Ruohan was the one forcing the issue, so to speak, rather than the other way around.

They weren’t the only ones, either.

With Wen Ruohan’s cultivation, he could hear the speculation and whispers from all around, and at least a few of them had torn themselves away from politics to wonder about Lan Qiren’s performance in bed. Most of them were hilariously wrong, thinking of Lan Qiren as some ravished maiden from a bad opera, although a few of them, mostly the ones who’d sent him students, correctly identified him as someone who would incline towards being dominating in bed – though those few had then incorrectly assumed that Wen Ruohan would have crushed such rebellious behavior at once. All of them fools, all of them thinking that a sexual position or inclination said anything about a person…

Of course, even if Lan Qiren knew, it was unlikely that he would care. Wen Ruohan certainly didn’t, not when he could have Lan Qiren wincing under his hands, voluntarily submitting to his cruelty, letting him twist flesh between his fingers and dig furrows in with his nails –

“I broke a rule at the discussion conference,” Lan Qiren panted. His lower lip was still a little raw from where he had bitten it during his confrontation with his brother; Wen Ruohan swept down to replace the mark with one from his own teeth, kissing him so thoroughly that he nearly forgot what he was saying. “Not just – a casual rule. An important one, and I broke it knowingly. I thought to myself as I did it that I would need to impose punishment upon myself, physical discipline, and that you might – mm – that you might enjoy being the one to administer it – ”

“I would indeed,” Wen Ruohan purred. “Do you have something in mind? Do you want me to beat you? I know the Lan sect uses wooden disciplinary rods, but with my cultivation I could do the same degree of damage with my palms alone. I could turn you over my lap and spank you until you scream.”

That sounded good. Very good.

“I would not scream. Discipline is meant to be taken with dignity – and spanking is a punishment for children.”

“Mm, yes, and humiliation is meant to hurt, so as to better seal in the memory. I find myself rather taken with the idea of beating your ass until it is red, and then having you fuck me against a wall again, knowing that every little move you make makes it ache and burn.”

“I think we have gotten rather far away from the subject of discipline. But if it makes you happy…”

“It does.” Wen Ruohan ground himself down into Lan Qiren’s lap. “You’d do it for me, wouldn’t you?”

He was mostly joking, not really meaning it, but Lan Qiren nodded.

“I would,” he affirmed verbally, as if it were that easy, as if he could just say something like that. “I would do many things for you.”

Wen Ruohan grinned triumphantly.

“And the next time you break a rule, I would return the favor twofold,” Lan Qiren continued, voice steady and unmoved, giving Wen Ruohan pause. “I do not think that I have the strength to actually harm you in that manner, of course. But perhaps I could make the experience enjoyable for you nonetheless – each strike driving you further into my lap until you are little more than a dog, shameless in your wretched display.”

Wen Ruohan glared at him. He was not going to let Lan Qiren thrash him!

Lan Qiren arched his eyebrows at him. “Humiliation seals in the memory, does it not?”

“…point taken,” Wen Ruohan conceded. “Perhaps we’ll limit it to strikes with the rod after all.”

At least to start.

Lan Qiren looked pleased – or he did until Wen Ruohan dug his nails into his already battered wrist, making him hiss and squirm beneath him as if trying to escape. Only he wasn’t, not really, because if he had truly wanted to get out, he would have found a way already.

“You’ll still have to kneel before me, though,” Wen Ruohan said, already imagining it. He used the friction between them to please himself as he did, rubbing himself against Lan Qiren. “Even in your sect, strikes are taken kneeling. I’m going to make you hurt – I’m going to make you bleed – ”

He stared at Lan Qiren’s face, avid, watching for fear, waiting for it…

“In that case, I think that I shall take the punishment in one of my newer outfits,” Lan Qiren said thoughtfully. “It will both increase your enjoyment and avoid ruining one of the ones I actually like.”

…and never getting it.

You are all alone, Wen Ruohan had told Lan Qiren. You have no one who would help you.

I have you, Lan Qiren replied straightforwardly. He had been so sure of it.

Even now, with Wen Ruohan hurting him, that certainty did not break.

How had Lan Qiren put it? Mutually consensual sadism?

Ah, truly, but it was so good that Wen Ruohan was a genius! To think, if he wasn’t so brilliant, he might have missed this chance to claim the treasure that was Lan Qiren for himself and for his sect. If he had done nothing but stood aside, someone else would have had this man, this man who was so obviously perfectly suited for Wen Ruohan and no one else, and then inevitably Wen Ruohan would have had no choice but to start a war just to get him.

Because he really truly had to have him. He had to have him in every way, in every manner, anything he could get –

“I want to dual cultivate with you,” he said without thinking, and then winced.

He regretted saying anything, of course. Even if he did want it, and he did, suddenly, want it desperately, Wen Ruohan still knew better than to bring it up just like that, suddenly and without preparation – dual cultivation was dangerous, particularly when there was such a difference in cultivation levels between the two partners.

Despite Lan Qiren’s talent, Wen Ruohan was by far the more powerful. If Lan Qiren lowered his defenses and yielded control over his qi to him, he would be helpless in the face of any decision Wen Ruohan chose to make. If he so wished, he could drain Lan Qiren dry, using him as a cultivation furnace to empower himself, sucking out years of painstakingly acquired spiritual energy from that beautiful golden core of his, so pure and shining bright. He could leave him as little more than the husks Wen Zhuliu’s core-melting technique left behind. He would not be wholly crippled the way they were, since he would still have his golden core and meridians intact, but assuming he survived the process, his power would be greatly damaged, requiring years if not decades of hard work to rebuild.

Sure, Lan Qiren could try to do the same to him, stealing what he could, but Wen Ruohan had more than enough power to spare. No matter what Lan Qiren did, he would survive the experience, however unpleasant it might be, and then he would kill Lan Qiren after. But Lan Qiren was unlikely to do something like that, being infamously virtuous and principled, whereas Wen Ruohan was a well-known madman – no, the risks here were all on Lan Qiren’s side.

Real dual cultivation required trust, the sort of trust that needed more than just a few bows and a vow to create. Not all married couples did it. Even those that did love each other, as Jiang Fengmian and Yu Ziyuan did in their strange, tempestuous way, might not be willing to allow their partner that level of intimacy, that level of vulnerability. And Wen Ruohan, who himself trusted no one, knew that he of all people was the last on the list of people that could be trusted –

“Very well.”

Wen Ruohan stilled and stared down at Lan Qiren, who frowned and amended his words: “Not in a carriage. I have standards.”

“You understand that I mean actual dual cultivation, correct?” Wen Ruohan said, feeling a little blank inside – not the usual sort of benumbed apathy that often came upon him and drove him to the Fire Palace to seek out any sort of feeling he could get, but a weird floaty sort of blank, like the type that preceded the mind-clearing lucidity of a really good orgasm. “Not the type you hear about in badly written erotic stories where it’s nothing but a thinly disguised excuse for sex, but the sort where both partners genuinely merge spiritual energy, share qi for qi, letting our golden cores resound and fill with each other.”

Lan Qiren blinked at him, as if puzzling through what he meant, and after a moment, his brows unfurrowed as he reached a conclusion that satisfied him. “Ah, of course,” he said, nodding judiciously. “Forgive me: obviously you would also not do something like that in a carriage, so my statement was unnecessary. I did not mean to imply that you lacked standards.”

Wen Ruohan did lack standards. He was the terrifying tyrant of the cultivation world, the unstable madman who lusted only for power and dreamt of standing above all the other sects as their master, and he knew it. He knew it was all true, what they said about him. There was little enough he would not do to achieve his goals, whether lying, cheating, stealing, murder or worse, and if he did not typically employ the most wretched of methods, such as human furnaces, that was not because of any scruple. His cultivation path was still an orthodox one, and so engaging in that behavior would likely harm him more than it helped; that was the only reason he hadn’t done the worst of the worst, the only reason. And yet, in the face of all that, Lan Qiren was still willing to give him the benefit of the doubt – to rely on him, to trust him.

Lan Qiren, Wen Ruohan decided in a moment of clarity, must be insane.

Luckily, it was the sort of insanity that went in Wen Ruohan’s favor, so he wasn’t going to complain.

Instead, he leaned down and kissed Lan Qiren again, using the hand that wasn’t busy digging new bruises into Lan Qiren’s already injured wrist to reach down and get himself off as efficiently as possible – which didn’t take long, as close to the edge as Wen Ruohan already was.

“Do you need something on your side?” he asked, after. “Or are you content to wait until later?”

“Later will do just fine,” Lan Qiren said, though he wrinkled his nose as he looked down at the mess on his bare abdomen. His slightly bruised abdomen, in fact, which Wen Ruohan noted in his heart as something else he’d have to pay back to someone someday. “A bath would be too much to ask for, I suppose, but some water…?”

Wen Ruohan moved back to his seat, allowing Lan Qiren to clean himself up and taking the time to simply luxuriate in the languor that followed release. When Lan Qiren returned to his seat, he took the other man’s wrist into his lap once more, this time to apply a few acupuncture needles to encourage swifter healing, then when that was done to smooth on some salve and wrap it in a bandage. And then, because he could, because no one would ever dare tell him not to, he slid down to his knees on the floor of the carriage and took Lan Qiren into his mouth.

“You are insatiable,” Lan Qiren said, though he sounded fond rather than complaining. Very few men would complain in such a circumstance, though Wen Ruohan suspected Lan Qiren might be one of them, if he were sufficiently motivated – though he didn’t seem to be now, based on the way he reached down with his injured hand to slide his fingers to rest in Wen Ruohan’s hair. “But if this is meant to be for me, then we shall do it my way, you understand?”

Wen Ruohan hummed in reply.

“Good. Just stay still, then…yes, just as you are, just like that. You may meditate or daydream, as you prefer – I do not require your attention – but do not move until I grant you permission. You can do that for me, can you not?”

He could, and quite happily, too. Wen Ruohan hadn’t kneeled in penance for a long time, though he still remembered that type of discipline from his childhood. Though shortly enough he discovered that this didn’t feel like penance or punishment – Lan Qiren would have made it clear if that was what he expected Wen Ruohan to get out of the act, and this wasn’t that. It wasn’t even meant to be humiliating.

No, it was more just…

A way to pass the time.

After a little while, Lan Qiren summoned his guqin, plucking at some song or another – not one Wen Ruohan recognized, so perhaps the one he had said earlier that he wanted to compose – while Wen Ruohan enjoyed himself. It was strangely meditative, in its way, and after a while it started to feel almost competitive, a race to see which one of them would break first: Wen Ruohan’s pride and paranoia against Lan Qiren’s stubbornness and stamina.

And Wen Ruohan did not lose.

Luckily, Lan Qiren might seem to have the endless patience of a block of granite, the way the Lan rules seemed to advise, but in the end he was still human. Eventually he gave in and let Wen Ruohan suck him off properly – and that, too, was a pleasure, and not just because it represented victory.

Wen Ruohan was in a very good mood.

That good mood persisted all the way through the long carriage ride back to the Nightless City, and even after, when Lan Qiren disappeared in the direction of their shared rooms with his guqin and a distracted air that suggested he was likely to forget to eat dinner that night in favor of playing music. Wen Ruohan saw him off with a smirk before heading towards the main hall: tragically, even though the time he’d been gone for the discussion conference that wasn’t had been shorter than expected, the never-ending work of a sect leader still beckoned.

Surely even those annoyances couldn’t dampen his mood…though they certainly seemed to be trying their best.

“Sect Leader, I swear to you, that is the rumor,” the reporting disciple bowed deeply. “They claim that our Wen sect cleared the area only through driving the monsters to the next region – that we are not only dishonest and untrustworthy, betraying the rules of the night-hunt, but that our great forces are only there to hide our weakness.”

Above all things, Wen Ruohan hated being laughed at the most. Normally, he would retaliate against such an insult by destroying anyone who dared make it, regardless of the truth of the matter – the truth didn’t really matter, after all. History was written by the victors, and the offense of insulting his Wen sect was far greater than whatever petty crimes his subordinates might or might not have committed. A subordinate could be punished, a scapegoat could be blamed, but someone who dared insult him…?

Perform acts of chivalry, have courtesy and integrity, take wins and losses…

Ugh, he could hear Lan Qiren earnestly chirping those stupid Lan sect rules even now.

Wen Ruohan rolled his eyes. Such a thing definitely wasn’t worth ruining his good mood over.

“Send a secondary squad to investigate what happened, both the initial squad’s behavior and the rumors,” he ordered, waving his hand dismissively. “If the crime has been committed, report to me for further instruction. If it has not, and the existence of false rumors is verified, then both squads may join hands and make clear our Wen sect’s displeasure.”

The Lan might preach If others lose to you, do not look down upon them, but the Wen had always felt differently. Even Wen Ruohan’s ancestor Wen Mao, who’d left his descendants with a whole list of seemingly altruistic sayings to make himself feel better about the vicious conquest he’d enacted to raise his clan up to the skies, had never included anything about having mercy on those that wronged you.

Even Lan Qiren wouldn’t be able to complain.

The subordinate bowed and retreated, shouting, “Sect Leader’s wisdom is infinite!” as he did.

The next petitioner stepped up – based on his clothing, he was one of the disciples surnamed Wen, a kinsman whether born or adopted, rather than merely an outer disciple.

“A report from the army, Sect Leader,” he said crisply, as professional and intimidating as expected from someone who bore their surname, and presented Wen Ruohan with a missive.

Wen Ruohan scanned it over for any unusual elements. It was mostly the usual, though naturally Wen Ruohan would never ignore something from his army – he was the only one with a sect large enough to even have an army, the only one bold enough to force lower-level cultivators into the sort of discipline required to call them an actual militia rather than merely wielding the fighting force of his sect disciples the way other sects did. Not that he could underestimate that: Qinghe Nie, for instance, had made its way into the Great Sects on account of their disciples’ outsized strength in arms.

“What’s this about us sending a squad to deal with a matter near Jiujiang?” he asked, tapping one part of the report. “That’s in the area between Gusu Lan and Yunmeng Jiang, it’s not our responsibility.”

More to the point, it was perilously close to the Quanjiao Liu sect, the target of Qingheng-jun’s upcoming war of conquest. Not to mention only a stone’s throw from Xixiang, where Cangse Sanren was currently heading with Lan Qiren’s precious nephews…

“We received word of a large group of hauntings all in one place,” the Wen disciple said, saluting. “It seemed perfect for a training exercise on a large scale. Permission was received from the local sect that manages the area.”

Wen Ruohan grunted. That was normal enough, he supposed. “What sect?”

“Yuexi Xu.”

He’d never heard of them. A small sect, then, with nothing but their clan to back them up – even with paranoia as acute as his, Wen Ruohan had to admit that the chances of them being up to something that could harm his great Wen sect was relatively low. Still, wading into another Great Sect’s territory was always fraught with risk. It tended to make people nervous, and that nervousness was particularly acute when it was his Wen sect, given the reputation Wen Ruohan had for conquest. Was all that trouble really worth it for a mere night-hunt…?

“Is the prey particularly notable?” he asked. “Something that would gain our Wen sect great fame?”

“No, Sect Leader. However, the general was convinced that the opportunity was worth taking in order to ensure that the army had experience outside of drilling, in facing up against real opponents. In particular, he wishes to develop his protégé…”

Wen Ruohan relaxed. Now that made sense. He’d almost forgotten that he’d sent Wen Xu to be tutored by one of his generals, but naturally they’d want to flatter him by finding a way to show off to his son.

“Naturally my Xu-er must have many opportunities if he is to win fame for himself,” he said indulgently. “Very well, approved, provided they’re quick in handling it and getting out again. I don’t want to run into any trouble. Do you have any verbal reports to add?”

“Only that the general observed a number of sects in the area of Jiujiang making movements of their own recently, in their own names. He thought it unusual, given that they were not chasing the hauntings he was targeting, and thought to inform the Sect Leader of it in the event they were preparing for war.”

Now that would be bad timing, Wen Ruohan reflected. Mostly for Qingheng-jun – if the local sects in the area were gearing up to go against each other, the Lan sect’s little war of conquest risked escalating out of control as other sects leaped into the fray in order to win themselves some advantage over their neighbors. Starting a war to win some land was nothing, everyone would accept that, but kicking off a big clash like that? That would bring down censure and draw criticism from the entire cultivation world on any sect that dared, even if they were as renowned for integrity as the Lan sect. Even his own Wen sect would need to think very carefully before getting involved with anything like that.

Well, it wasn’t his problem if Qingheng-jun would need to delay his war. Wen Ruohan might have carefully negotiated a contract that gave his sect’s tacit support to the Lan sect’s war in exchange for support further down the line to eat away at the Jiang sect’s other subordinate sects, and certainly he wanted to take advantage of the benefits he’d negotiated for, but his real goal of obtaining Lan Qiren had already been fulfilled.

Lan Qiren was his, now, and by the Lan sect’s own traditions, he would never be anyone else’s.

“So noted,” he said, smiling faintly to himself and ignoring the way that it made the disciple in front of him blanch in terror. “Dismissed. Pass my regards to Xu-er, and tell him to plan to return to the Nightless City for a visit when he’s finished with this night-hunt.”

It was really past time for Lan Qiren to meet his children. The only reason he hadn’t met them already was because Wen Xu, who was promising, was far away, and Wen Chao, who was close by, was spoiled and arrogant and more than a little silly. He’d initially planned to wait until Lan Qiren had settled plans for his future classes to introduce Wen Chao, asking him to act as personal tutor in advance, but now it seemed better that he wait until Lan Qiren’s nephews arrived. His younger son had always yearned for the acceptance of his peers, and once they were all in the Nightless City, in Wen Ruohan’s grasp, it would be easy enough to ensure that they got along.

The next report involved even more rumors, this time in a different area – and even more impudent.

“They really said that my Wen sect is only a paper tiger, with nothing but empty roars and past glory to back us up? And they said it in public, to others?” Wen Ruohan laughed in anger. “Do they not want to live any longer? Ridiculous.”

“Should we take action against them, Sect Leader?”

“No, of course not. No one would dare say something like that – ”

And if anyone really was that daring, they certainly wouldn’t be after the discussion conference.

“– which means there’s the chance that someone is spreading the rumor on purpose, to use us as a weapon against their enemies. Do they think our Wen sect is so easily manipulated? Have it investigated.”

“At once, Sect Leader!”

Wen Ruohan shook his head. So many rumors, all at once, and not the ones he’d wanted or expected to hear after the success of the discussion conference. How irritating! It stunk of some sort of plot.

He raised his voice and addressed the room at large. “Has anyone else got any unusual rumors to report?”

Silence, with most people exchanging glances. After a few moments, one of his subordinates, relatively far back in the crowd, stepped forward.

“Reporting to the Sect Leader,” he said, saluting. “I heard some unusual rumors in the vicinity of Yueyang Chang, but was reluctant to share them, absent any corroboration.”

Wen Ruohan raised his eyebrows. Yueyang Chang was the sect he’d absorbed with Lan Qiren’s advice, and which had been suffering from – should he call them growing pains? To go from independence to subservience required an adjustment period, but that wasn’t anything he would call ‘unusual’. “Speak.”

“Sect Leader Chang was overheard complaining by those who I trust, who reported back to me. He claimed he had been tricked – that he was pushed to go out on a limb by someone who knew the branch would not hold his weight.” The subordinate hesitated. “He said that he would never have instigated the fight in the first place if he hadn’t received encouragement from the Lan sect.”

“From the Lan sect? Gusu Lan?” Wen Ruohan was confused. What did the Lan sect have to do with Yueyang Chang? It wasn’t located in their territory. Moreover, the Lan did not have a habit of messing around with other sects, they tended to treat themselves as being better than that. “What was he promised?”

“He did not say. Only that he greatly regrets his actions…the usual sort of thing. It was only the reference to the Lan sect that was unusual.”

That was unusual. Wen Ruohan didn’t like things that were unusual, particularly in politics. Too often, something unusual was an early sign that something was about to go wrong.

“You did well to report it,” he said, frowning. “Anything to do with the other Great Sects is worthy of my attention.”

That got the attention of yet another of his servants, this one right next to the last, and made him step forward eagerly. “Sect Leader, I also heard something unusual,” he volunteered. “Lanling Jin sect sent out many messages in recent days, and I intercepted several. It appears they are contracting rogue cultivators, experienced ones.”

Another surprise. Wen Ruohan was starting to get tired of them. “Mercenaries?”

“Yes, Sect Leader.”

“You said ‘in recent days.’ Do you know when they started? Before or after the discussion conference?”

“After, Sect Leader.”

Wen Ruohan scoffed. Qingheng-jun must have overplayed his hand, then – Lanling Jin was a Great Sect, but not especially known for its military talents. They rarely spent money on arms when they could instead use it on frivolities, like even more gold leaf for their ridiculously luxurious accommodations. The only reason Jin Guangshan would be reaching out to mercenaries was because he’d managed to figure out that the Lan sect was going to go to war, and he wanted to see what advantage he could get for his sect by fishing in troubled waters.

“Good to know,” he said. “Though hardly what I would describe as ‘unusual.’”

“It’s not that, Sect Leader – it was Yueyang Chang, that was what reminded me! One of the mercenaries the Jin sect reached out to was formerly part of the Chang clan, disowned by the last sect leader, so he’s formally unaffiliated with them, though I believe he’s still on good terms with his kinsmen. He wrote back to confirm that he would participate, saying he knew that it was coming, because – ”

The subordinate abruptly stopped, having clearly not meant to say as much as he was.

Or perhaps regretting what he had been on the verge of revealing.

Wen Ruohan’s frown deepened. “Speak. I will not punish you.”

“This – I – I can only report what I have read, Sect Leader, without judgment as to whether it is true or false. I have not had time to take any steps to verify…”

“Speak.”

“...yes, Sect Leader. The Chang mercenary stated that he knew trouble was coming because he had seen both Lan sect leaders in the environs of his natal sect not long before.”

Wen Ruohan blinked, for a moment not understanding. Both Lan sect leaders? There could only ever be one at a time, and Lan Qiren’s father was long dead. The only way such a thing would be possible was if the man was claiming to have seen Lan Qiren and Qingheng-jun together – together, and near Yueyang, which was nowhere near Gusu.

“Impossible,” he said firmly, ignoring the way his stomach started churning and bile rushed to the back of his throat as his paranoia tried to wake up with a vengeance. “Lan Qiren and his brother despise each other, I have seen it myself. They would never willingly spend time in each other’s company. The Chang mercenary must have been mistaken.”

Surely he must have been mistaken. Lan tended to all look quite similar from a distance, with their pale robes and strong family features and identical forehead ribbons. There was no reason to think that it really had been Lan Qiren.

It couldn’t have been, anyway. From the time Qingheng-jun had left seclusion to Lan Qiren’s marriage with Wen Ruohan and after, all of Lan Qiren’s time was accounted for.

Unless he was lying about being in seclusion, his paranoia whispered. The churning in Wen Ruohan’s stomach got worse. No one saw him. Everyone knows how much he dislikes seclusion. And the Lan sect were all so surprised to see him at the conference, weren’t they? Even his own sect…

But there’s no reason for him to lie, Wen Ruohan argued back. And anyway, he’s Lan Qiren. Do not tell lies, remember? He wouldn’t.

He wouldn’t. Not to me.

Wen Ruohan shook his head and stood up. “That’s enough for today,” he said sharply, watching as his subordinates all knelt and bowed before him. “Dismissed.”

That done, he rose and headed out of the main room, still feeling uneasy. He knew better than to listen to the words of some random rogue cultivator who might not know anything, or who might be lying for purposes of his own – and anyway, it wasn’t the first time he’d doubted Lan Qiren, only to see the error of his doubt. Even as far back as the first time he figured out the extent of Lan Qiren’s growing influence as a teacher, he had wondered if it was some sort of ploy, only to conclude it wasn’t.

It was surely the same now.

“ – of course Lan Qiren wouldn’t be concerned! Why would he? He’s got our dear husband wrapped around his little finger.”

Wen Ruohan paused, hearing Lu Qipei’s strident, scathing tones from the next corridor over, echoing loudly against the walls. She was talking with Shen Mingbi, or rather at her, as usual, with Shen Mingbi hurrying to keep up with her pace.

“You won’t believe what I’ve heard about the discussion conference,” Lu Qipei continued, her voice querulous. “The things that man said – and in public – ! He’s far more shameless than I ever imagined. To put such things out in front of the world as if he wanted us to be seen as some sort of farce, the dignity of our great Wen sect reduced to nothing – he’s laughing at us all, I’m telling you, and our husband not the least of it.”

“I don’t think he laughs,” Shen Mingbi said doubtfully. “Not in general, I mean. Not at all.”

“Oh, he laughs all right,” Lu Qipei said with a sneer. “I’ve heard him. Even today! He was looking at our husband from a distance, and he chuckled – laughing at him behind his back, I’m telling you. He’s nothing more than a shameless hussy whose plans are working out just as he intended – ”

Her voice faded away as she passed into the next room, Shen Mingbi’s hurrying footsteps fading away soon after, and all that was left was Wen Ruohan, standing there, feeling cold.

He hated being laughed at.

He’d never tolerated it, not even in his youth, not even with his brothers and sisters – not even the ones he liked. Mockery had always been his reverse scale; once he’d become the Sect Leader of the Wen sect, that great and glorious position, he had finally been in a place to ensure that no one would ever mock him again. He’d wreaked havoc on the cultivation world to ensure it, time and time again. He had always preferred that everyone think him a madman or a tyrant rather than allow them to think him weak.

Lan Qiren wouldn’t, he insisted to himself. He wouldn’t.

Certainly not now. Surely not now, not just after Wen Ruohan had just humbled himself before him, when Wen Ruohan had asked him to dual cultivate with him. He’d asked Lan Qiren to trust him and Lan Qiren had agreed, and Wen Ruohan had been happy, because at last, at last, he had someone who would give him the benefit of the doubt, someone who looked to him first, someone who trusted him who he could trust in return –

He could trust Lan Qiren in return. Couldn’t he?

Surely he could. Lan Qiren was…he was Lan Qiren. For all the (admittedly) quixotic fascination Wen Ruohan had for him, Lan Qiren was still so boring, so dull, so pedantic when he wanted to be – the passion that moved him was only his rules, which he followed with alacrity, and his loved ones, like any proper Lan. His nephews, of course, and…and his spouse, surely. Wen Ruohan, for whom he had promised to be a good husband, for whom he had written his own rules and tried his best to abide by them. He might not yearn for the sex they had, but neither was he repulsed by it, and he’d offered Wen Ruohan gifts, his own pain, given freely.

Surely Lan Qiren wasn’t going to betray him now.

It was odd how much it mattered, Wen Ruohan reflected as he walked towards the rooms he and Lan Qiren had shared since their marriage. He’d always prided himself on betrayal not mattering to him. He’d told Lao Nie himself that he didn’t really mind it when people betrayed him, as long as they did it with style, and he’d meant it, too. He was so powerful, so beyond all the rest, that no one could really hope to harm him, so what did their pathetic little plots mean to him? Let them squirm and scheme; what did he care? At most, all their connivance would do quite well to amuse him, like watching a play in which he was meant to be a character, a small break in the dull apathy of daily life.

He liked watching people plot against him. He liked crushing them in the end, too, when he was done being amused.

He didn’t like this.

Wen Ruohan knew himself to be paranoid, fearful and wary well beyond the normal bounds of men, but he also knew that his paranoia was well-earned. Who in his life had not betrayed him? In his childhood, it had always been that way: his father had been indifferent, his mother had preferred his older and younger siblings, his brothers and sisters saw him as an impediment to their goals. Even his sense of security in the world had abandoned him, courtesy of the supposedly peaceful Lan sect’s great war, where his mother and brothers had left him behind to die.

Nor had it changed as he’d gotten older. His younger brother whom he liked best had had his own interests, separate and apart from his own, and although Wen Ruohan’s own betrayal of Wen Ruoyu had been by far the worse, it wasn’t as though he had been incited to action out of nothing; it had been those cracks between them, the little evasions that chipped away at trust, that had allowed for Wen Ruohan to be deceived into turning against him. And his wives – ah, the less said of them, the better. It had been his first wife, who’d sworn an oath to be loyal only to him, that had first introduced him to the notion of adultery, blatantly telling him that she would take others to her bed to make up for what he did not give her. Only she hadn’t really ever wanted anything he could give, always laughing at him, never appreciating him, never trusting in him or his potential. He had still been weak when he’d married her, and so she had always looked down on him, sneered at him, thinking to herself that she could have and maybe should have done better for herself than settling for the likes of him. It was only later, much later, that she regretted her cruelty and selfishness, only when unexpectedly he really did begin to achieve all of his ambitions and gain the power that was rightfully his.

Of course by then it was too late. Too late for her to win his affection, because by then he knew the truth that she’d only ever wanted him for his power, and he’d hated her for that. And the two wives that came after her…he had long ago found them to be the same as her.

His children, of course, all tended towards their mothers, following in their footsteps. They all wanted his seat, wanted his power – perhaps Wen Xu and Wen Chao were too young to really scheme, but their mothers weren’t, and they’d grow to follow their long-dead older brothers’ footsteps one day, he had no doubt. One day they, too, would turn against him, inevitable and unstoppable, and there was no point in even hoping for more.

Even his lovers were the same! No matter how sweet their words, they all betrayed him in the end, one way or another. Even Lao Nie, who had been so gallant at the start – he’d taken one wife, which Wen Ruohan could understand given the need for descendants, and then another, which he couldn’t. And even now, with both wives gone, he’d turned quarrelsome and suspicious, always the first to think the worst of Wen Ruohan. No, Lao Nie had never been fool enough to think that simply sharing Wen Ruohan’s bed meant that he could trust him…

But Lan Qiren is different.

Lan Qiren trusts me. He doesn’t fear me. He would give me everything, and happily. He’s a Lan! The Lan love deeply, love madly, love only one – it is what they are all like, as characteristic of them as their ridiculous rules. No Lan would ever betray their beloved. It’s impossible!

…though that assumes that I am Lan Qiren’s beloved. Not just simply the one he married.

Wen Ruohan growled in frustration and threw open the door to his rooms.

Lan Qiren wasn’t there.

He should have been there, shouldn’t he? He’d said he was going to go play music for a while. His guqin was there, sitting on the low table he preferred to use when playing, and that meant Lan Qiren should have been there, too. But he wasn’t. He wasn’t here –

“Sect Leader, your lowly subordinate greets you. Forgive my impudence in coming here unannounced!”

Wen Ruohan turned, surprised. It was Wang Liu, his spy from the Lan sect, and he was kneeling.

“You,” he said blankly. “What are you doing here?”

It was impudence to come to Wen Ruohan’s rooms without being sent for. If Wang Liu had wanted to report to him, he should have gone through the usual channels – Wen Ruohan would have summoned him when he was ready and not a moment before, or else gone to meet him somewhere private. Even if it was urgent, there were ways in place that Wang Liu could have made that known.

Ways that didn’t involve bothering Wen Ruohan when all he wanted was to find Lan Qiren.

“I apologize, Sect Leader, but it was a matter that could not wait. It has to do with your marriage.”

Wen Ruohan’s eyes narrowed. His marriage?

“What is it?” he demanded. “Tell me now.”

Wang Liu hesitated, but then squared his shoulders. “Sect Leader, the news I have may be unpleasant – ”

“Did I ask you to equivocate?! Tell me what you came here to say.”

Wang Liu still hesitated.

“Enough of this,” Wen Ruohan said angrily. “Tell me this instant – ”

“It’s all a joke!”

Wen Ruohan took an actual step back. Something was wrong with his balance. “What?”

“Forgive me, Sect Leader,” Wang Liu saluted deeply. “I have discovered that – that earlier reports regarding the dislike between Lan Qiren and Sect Leader Lan were erroneous. There is no such great hatred between them…or rather, the hatred we had observed was all manufactured. It was deliberate.”

There was a roaring sound in Wen Ruohan’s ears.

“It was all planned out from the start,” Wang Liu said. “They worked together on a plan that would allow them to best improve the Lan sect’s future, now that Qingheng-jun was out of seclusion. It was all part and parcel to it: Lan Qiren pretended to retreat into seclusion while his brother established himself, using the time to go look into the various weak points the sect had developed the past ten years. Refreshing alliances with some sects, identifying others as budding threats – Yueyang Chang and Yingping Wang, for instance – ”

“Those sects are nowhere near Gusu,” Wen Ruohan said. His voice sounded dull to his own ears. Shocked. Betrayed. Pathetic. “Why would the Lan sect care about their fate?”

“It is not those sects directly, Sect Leader, but their alliances. They were providing support to certain of the subordinate sects that fall under Gusu Lan, but now that they have themselves become subordinates of the Wen sect, that link is broken, and Gusu Lan’s control is now firmer than ever. I can show you evidence of letters, Sect Leader.”

He fumbled at his sleeve, pulling out some letters and unfolding them – Wen Ruohan could tell at a glance that the writing on them was Lan Qiren’s, even if he couldn’t make out exactly what was written on them. Beautiful but rigid, inflexible, uncompromising…

Not the sort of person who would decide to make the best of things in an unwanted marriage.

Lan Qiren had given in rather quickly, hadn’t he? I will be a good husband to you, he’d said the very first night, and Wen Ruohan had found it funny. He hadn’t complained or yelled or thrown a fit – not until later, not until he’d found the note from his nephews and had that terrible meltdown, which had been so severe that Wen Ruohan had first thought he was having a qi deviation. But when he’d checked him later, Lan Qiren’s qi had been just fine…could he have been faking it?

No, that was impossible. Surely it had to be impossible.

He laughs at him behind his back, Lu Qipei had said. I saw him, just today, looking at him and chuckling.

The mercenary from the Chang clan said he saw both Lan sect leaders in that area, together.

Do not tell lies, Lan Qiren said, and then looked his brother right in the face and claimed, I do not know where your children are right now.

“There’s more, Sect Leader.”

Wen Ruohan turned his head slowly to look at Wang Liu, who looked…apologetic, almost. Like he was pitying him. Looking down at him, the way everyone always looked down at men who had their heads turned by a pretty face, men who let themselves be led around by their lower halves. Men who let themselves be fooled and tricked into doing stupid things because they thought they were in – that they were in –

Wen Ruohan didn’t trust anyone. He certainly didn’t love anyone.

“What more?” he asked.

“Your former spy, Qing Yu. As you suspected, he was a spy for another sect…and he knew.”

Wen Ruohan’s hand shook. “He knew? That – that was months ago!”

At the time he’d had Qing Yu thrown into the Fire Palace, the idea of marrying Lan Qiren hadn’t even occurred to him yet. But it was that conversation that had sparked it, hadn’t it? It had been long enough ago that he couldn’t remember exactly what it was that had given rise to the idea, remembering only that long and circuitous discussion that had first led him to suspect Qing Yu, but…it had been then that the seed had been planted, his idea to marry Lan Qiren for himself, to take him into the Wen sect.

The Lan sect didn’t use spies. But they might suborn one, if they thought of it.

Had it all been planned? Had Lan Qiren and his brother been playing him all along? Him, the great Wen Ruohan?

Had they been laughing at him?

Every time he’d let Lan Qiren have his way – when he’d allowed him to be the one on top, when he’d acted against his own inclinations to indulge him, when he’d taken a loss rather than see his distress…when he’d let Lan Qiren call him his wife in front of the whole cultivation world, and even thought that he was enjoying it. Had that all been a joke to Lan Qiren? A humiliation?

“That was why I couldn’t wait to call on you, Sect Leader,” Wang Liu said, wringing his hands. “I got word that Lan Qiren was going to take action now.”

“Action?”

“Yes, Sect Leader. My men intercepted word that he sent back to his sect, saying that he thought you were sufficiently distracted that he would be able to go rescue Qing Yu from the Fire Palace – ”

Wen Ruohan held up a hand, cutting Wang Liu off.

He was seeing red.

How dare he? How dare he – how dare Lan Qiren laugh at me? How dare he take my goodwill, my sincerity, and throw it back into my face? How dare he think that he can take advantage of me?!

Wen Ruohan was nobody’s fool. He was nobody’s plaything, to be manipulated and used and then discarded – and he was sick and tired of being betrayed.

(Maybe it’s a mistake, something deep inside him whispered, soft and flat and monotone the way Lan Qiren’s voice tended to be. Maybe Wang Liu is wrong?

But how could Wang Liu, who had so much evidence, be wrong?)

“I will deal with this myself,” he said coldly, and swept out of his rooms, heading straight for the Fire Palace.

The walls warped around him as he strode forward, walking as fast as he could without breaking into an undignified run – he was losing control over his power, letting it leak loose in a way he hadn’t in ages. He didn’t care, just as he didn’t care about the way the servants who saw him recoiled and cowered at the sight of him, the way they used to before he had relaxed these past few months. He barely even noticed.

His attention was too caught up in the war inside his head, the roaring that still filled his ears.

Half of him, the paranoid old monster that he was, was screaming in wretched miserable vindication – I knew he was too good to be true, I knew better than to trust him, I should never trust anyone at all! – while the other half was thrashing around in denial, shouting No, no, there must be something wrong, something is wrong with this, Lan Qiren wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, he wouldn’t, not to me, he wouldn’t –

Wen Ruohan threw open the doors of his Fire Palace.

Lan Qiren was there. He was deep inside, but instantly visible, in his pale robes with white clouds and red suns, immediately recognizable, with that so-distinctive forehead ribbon fluttering behind him.

He was standing next to the cell Qing Yu had been consigned to.

He turned to look at Wen Ruohan and somehow, impossibly, began to smile –

“How dare you!” Wen Ruohan screamed, his voice cracking as he did. He watched in sick joy as Lan Qiren’s eyes went wide and he took a step back. “How – how dare – you betrayed me – ”

Lan Qiren was already shaking his head, trying to deny it, but it was too late, too late. Why else would he be here, if not for the reason Wang Liu had said? He didn’t love the pain of the Fire Palace.

He only liked the pain that Wen Ruohan gave him.

Or so he’d said.

So he’d lied – and all without saying a single untrue word.

“You want to make me a gift of your pain, do you?” Wen Ruohan said, his lips peeling back from his teeth as he snarled. “Very well, let me give you a gift back. My Fire Palace has all the pain you could possibly want and more. I will let you have your fill of it!”

Lan Qiren reached out to him. “Sect Leader Wen,” he said, his toneless voice as urgent as he could make it. “Wen Ruohan…!”

Wen Ruohan would have none of it. No more lies, no more mockery.

He turned his back on Lan Qiren.

“Guards!” he called, and his men appeared quickly, always at his beck and call. He smiled grimly at them, and they quailed back before him, afraid, terrified as they watched his rage-reddened eyes resume the dead look that he had worn for so long. The one that had protected him for so long, and it was only that he had let himself forget that, for a little while. A mistake, it seemed. “Lan Qiren will be staying as a guest of the Fire Palace from this moment on. Please make sure that he gets only the best of our Wen sect’s hospitality…and no matter what he says, don’t let him leave.”

“Wen Ruohan!”

Wen Ruohan left.

[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!!

if you want to be notified when i post a new fic, you can join my taglist here!

taglist — located in the replies

[erinwantstowrite]

Let me just quickly say, cross-overs can sometimes get REALLY difficult to map out and write in a cohesive way but you have absolutely NAILED IT!! I absolutely ADORE LoF!!! I usually don’t even bother reading fics with the ‘Richard Grayson is Richard Parker’ premise cause I felt like they were super confusing and overcomplicated but this fic?? SUPERB. ABSOLUTELY INCREDIBLE. OH MY GOD I ADORE IT. Everyone’s characterizations are so nice and wonderful aaaaaaah!!!! <33333

Ok ok I did actually have a question as well: would you be willing to share what your writing process looks like in terms of a chapter you’ve already posted? I was just wondering since I’m also currently working on my own fic (it’s been a few years but I managed to get fixated on an idea and it grew legs lol) and I’m currently fighting the organization of it haha.

How do you keep track of the plot points and/or foreshadowing you want to get a ‘lightbulb!’ moment for later? Do you have any tips?

Thank you so much! I absolutely adore your writing AND your art is so gorgeous omg it adds so much to the incredible story :DDD I hope you have a good day!!

I have a secret: I actually didn't like "Richard Grayson is Richard Parker' tag for a while for the same reason. Sometimes they felt like they missed the mark or it's just. A thing that's there? I almost didn't include it for LoF, but I'm glad I did because it changed the direction in such a big way.

Another secret: this made me incredibly happy because I have read so many wikis and scoured the internet to make sure that I had enough info on both fandoms so LoF could make sense to anyone who's reading it, whether they know Spider-Man, Batfam, or neither at all. Sometimes I worry a lot before I post that I'll miss a mark and will confuse people.

As for the question: I definitely am willing to share what my writing process looks like!

Be prepared for under the cut, I love to yap. It's in my blood to yap. And that's why it took a minute to get to this ask haha

(Spoilers for Leap of Faith!! Everything mentioned has already been published ((Chapters 1-11))

I had to go and find out which chapter I wanted to use as an example and I think we're gonna go with Chapter 5 for the most part :)

My writing process is, as described by alighterwood:

I think the description fits because while I'm all over the place, I have to be very detail oriented and I store everything in one spot.

Starting with the overall process, what I find is most helpful for me, when organizing, is having a notebook rather than doing it all digitally. I've been using a 70 sheet notebook that I had lying around waiting to be used, and as of yesterday, I officially filled the entire thing front to back. It's been an incredible help, for a lot of reasons, but mostly because it's a lot easier to remember something I physically wrote down than it is to remember something I typed. I'm now on to my second notebook for LoF, and I might even have to get a third.

In another ask, startupkat asked me this:

And I shared a little about my outline process there, but I'll try to go into a little more depth here. Emphasis on little because this is so long.

I write a truly insane amount of outlines in this notebook.

This is just what I can show you, but a good chunk of the notebook is just outlines. Over and over and over again. That's because they're always changing/adapting based on so many different factors. Sometimes I get to a chapter I thought I had fully planned out and then realize it just doesn't work anymore. Other times, I get to the chapter and realize I don't want to write that anymore/isn't as interesting as I thought it would be. A few times I got halfway through a POV of a scene I was struggling on and decided to switch POV's, which will change up the outline for a chapter every now and then.

Which is why I don't write incredibly detailed outlines and try to keep it vague until I actually get to that chapter. It's a lot less daunting to rewrite a chapter outline than it is to rewrite the entire outline.

Fic outlines and Chapter outlines look a lot alike.

This is what I said in the other ask, but I didn't elaborate on it all the way.

I make a list just like that, and then I try to put it in chronological order/in an order that makes sense. I keep the Fic outline vague by writing down "Goals" for a chapter rather than scenes. But I also keep notes to myself if I really think something is important. The more important I think a scene needs to be, the more details I write down to make sure my future self recalls what I had in mind when I thought it up.

Really simple example:

Chap 1 Goal: Peter gets to Gotham and meets Babs while running around. Meet Nightwing too? Get shelter.

Chapter 2 Goal: Bats are like "???" about Peter. Batfam dynamic important... Peter stalking Batfam back? Peter meet Batman >:)

When I get to a chapter, that's when I make a far more detailed list of wants/needs/goals. It's the Step 2 from the Step 1. Here are some examples from Chapter 5:

Needed to have:

More POV's from universe 1299 (Peter's home universe)

Tony's POV more specifically, how he's doing/feeling, what he's figured out

What they've figured out on 1299 side vs what's going on in 1300 (Gotham)

Explaining more about Peter's trauma/his past

Dick learning more about Peter, and vise versa

Wanted to have:

Ned being a more central character

Natasha :)

Loki being a little shit

Tony and Cap bickering

Peter talking to Nightwing again

The last name Grayson

Gymnastics!!

(This is the shortened list, because the chapters are so long)

When I looked at this list before writing my outline, I had to figure out how I could incorporate everything. If I needed more 1299 POV's, and I wanted Ned, Natasha, and Loki, there's one scene accounted for. I had to get their side of things and wanted that trio together. I needed a Tony POV, and I wanted Tony and Cap bickering, so those went together, plus I got 1299's POV of Ohnn and his plans explained.

I needed to have Peter explaining more about his trauma, and Dick and Peter to talk/get closer. I wanted a Nightwing POV, to have Peter say his last name, and them doing gymnastics. I knew Peter wouldn't willingly talk about that, so I had him have a nightmare. Not only did it give readers perspective but it made Peter more susceptible to talking to Nightwing because he was more emotionally vulnerable/lonely, and that's how that scene came together.

That's when I would write down the chronological order of these events by writing out "Scene Blocks." (This is what I wrote down but my handwriting was so bad I can't subject y'all to it):

scene 1- Ned talking to Loki. Natasha should be nearby and observing Loki's behavior. They are not on friendly terms. Ned is more worried about Peter than he is as to what Loki could be up to, so Natasha takes on that role.

scene 2- Tony is freaking out about Peter being in an alt dimension. He should attack Ohnn when he's not prepared for it. Beat his ass? Beat his ass. Cap there too.

scene 3- Peter's nightmare. "Ben, where do you go when you die?" "Where do you think?" "With you. Where you went."

scene 4- Nightwing and Peter.

Of course, things come to attention when writing. Like originally, Tony and Cap were arguing in the Tower. But it was a little too much like his and Natasha's argument, and I kept in mind that Tony is smart. Sometimes I forget that the characters are smarter than I am, so I have to account for what they would figure out. So Tony would have picked up the puzzle pieces and come to more conclusions than I originally thought about, and I figured he'd be way more proactive about it than just. Being in the Tower and waiting.

Which means that that scene ended up being as listed above: having a squabble with Cap, learning more about Peter's dynamic with the Avengers in this universe, and seeing how Tony is reacting to it by throwing himself head first into trying to capture Ohnn.

I'll realize I need something else to be mentioned or put in and I'll have to shimmy things around, but that's basically how it goes.

As for other forms of organization:

Keeping a timeline is so important because it tells you a lot about the environment your characters are in. It's also important to remember what a character has on them, what money they've spent, who they've met/who you have mentioned, every alias that is being used, to read your work and write down edits you want to make before you make them, to write down ideas beforehand of situations you can use, and, most importantly: MAKE A MAP!! This has saved me so many times. Sometimes your brain WILL trick you or make it harder on you to envision a scene. Make a map of where your characters are physically!! It will save you too!!

As for foreshadowing and plot points, I'll let you in on yet another secret:

Your subconscious is doing a lot more than you think it is.

Sometimes when I foreshadow something, I didn't even know I was until I got to it. I very often go back to read chapters that came before this to see what I've mentioned and what I haven't, and when I do, I'll see something and go "I have to bring this back" or "I almost forgot about that!"

Other times, I am very aware of what I'm foreshadowing, and that's because I follow a mystery plot formula. You have to keep in mind everyone's intentions, all the time. How are they feeling? What are their motivations? And: what are they doing right now, while this character is doing this?

Like Beck and Ohnn. From the very beginning, I knew I had to make sure that it was obvious Ohnn wasn't working alone. From there, I had to weave through the story and slowly build him up as someone who's working behind the scenes. Even from Ned's first POV, I made sure to mention that this person knows Tony and is tech savvy.

My biggest tip is to make sure you reread your work or at least skip through it, because sometimes you don't even know that you placed something there.

And sometimes, it's very purposeful. :)

I hope this helped! I really tried to keep it short but I am insane and the process is sooooo long. It sounds complicated but it really is simple when you're actually doing it I swear

[astarioffsimpmain]

Halloween in Waterdeep

Gale Dekarios x F!Reader (called "Tav" once)

Synopsis: Tav thinks Gale's tower might be haunted; Gale has an answer for it. But is it the right one?

Author's Note: Happy Halfway to Halloween, everyone! Since people celebrate "Half-o-ween" anywhere from April 30th through May 2nd, I'll hopefully be posting a few more Halloween themed fics in the coming days! But for now, enjoy this fluffy Gale fic. <3

*Extra Info: Some of this fic is stretched a little beyond what is canon, I am aware and did it on purpose to suit my idea. However, what I did research for canon-alignment purposes is that Faerunian "October' is commonly known as Leaffall, and the holiday at the end of Leaffall is called Liar's Night, which is essentially Faerunian Halloween, or Samhain. It's on the 30th day of Leaffall and it's common to dress up in disguises to avoid the attention of the deities known as Leira and Mask.

"Gale, are you certain your tower isn't haunted?" You scrunched your knees up to your chest as you sat in the very center of Gale’s large four poster bed. The wizard was sitting merely feet away at his desk grading papers, but he still seemed too far away for your liking, your earlier experience in the tower while he was away for work still lurking in the shadows of your mind. 

"I'm quite certain, my love. I lived here by myself with only Tara for an entire year and never experienced anything of the… phantasmic nature. That is, unless the spirits of the mice Tara has disposed of in that time have returned for justice." He chuckled to himself, and normally you would chuckle with him, but your fear currently outweighed your humor and you huffed instead. 

Your frustration caught his attention and the pen he was holding went down. He turned to you in his chair and appraised your balled-up position on the bed. You looked so small and helpless, and he couldn’t help but feel guilty for teasing you. Pushing himself up, he made his way to you, the urge to wrap his arms around you and make you feel safe again superseding all of his professor duties for the time being. You came first; you always had, and you always would. 

You reached for him as he climbed up onto the bed, and he gathered you up in his arms, pulling you close to his chest where the marks of the orb still lay in harmless divets and grooves along his skin. The hair that grew there scratched your cheek as you nuzzled into him, and you found comfort in the familiar sensation. 

"Alright. Tell me what happened and we'll see what we can do. If it is a spirit, I know several incantations that will allow us to speak to them and safely move them along. If it's something else, we've fought worse, I'm sure. Yes?" He cupped your cheeks in his warm hands and lifted your face, forcing you to meet his tender eyes. 

You nodded, determination returning to you now that you had the confidence of your fiancé again. "Alright," you began, walking back through the experience in your mind. "I was in the kitchen downstairs making coffee, and I heard a thumping noise behind me. I knew you were at Blackstaff, so naturally, my first guess was Tara, so I called out to her as I turned around, but she wasn't there. I looked all around the kitchen for her but she was nowhere to be found. Finally, I found her in your study, curled up asleep. So, I figured it must have been an animal of some sort inside the walls. It happened a few more times when I returned to the kitchen, but I ignored it as best I could in favor of my task. But then, something happened that I simply could not ignore. The spice cabinet door flung open by itself! I was shocked, of course, as none of the windows were open - for the gods' sakes, it's the 26th day of *Leaffall, it's chilly out there. I stared at it in shock, then it closed right back! I cast Detect Magic, as you taught me to do, and came up empty handed. That is not the first odd occurrence that has befallen me, Gale. In the last week alone, there have been numerous times in which I've felt like I'm being watched or heard strange, unexplainable noises in the tower."

Gale shook his head, a smile slowly creeping across his face. "I do believe I know what's going on here." 

"Oh?" You quirked a confused eyebrow at him. 

"In the days leading up to *Liar's Night, some Waterdhavians pull pranks around their houses to confuse the deities of Leira and Mask. They wear wooden necklaces so their magic cannot be detected while they have their fun. Then as you know, on Liar's Night, we all don disguises to keep those deities from showing us any special attention. Well, in the year Tara and I spent alone here, Tara did her best to keep my spirits up in any way she could in that dark time, including pull pranks on me during Leaffall. I suspect she's doing the same to you as a sort of… welcome to the Dekarios family. Let's ask her, shall we?"

You nodded, finding yourself both relieved and irritated at the Tressym for tricking you. Gale led you from your shared room and led you to the study, where Tara was bedded down next to one of Gale’s many bookshelves. "So, Tara." Your fiancé's voice was deceptively casual, but you heard - and you were certain Tara did too - the undercurrent of annoyance laced in his tone. "Playing pranks on my fiancée for Leaffall, hm? You truly startled her, my friend, and I do hope you will apologize."

"Mr. Dekarios," Tara tried to interject, but Gale continued without pause.

"By all the gods, she thought the tower was haunted!"

"Mr. Dekarios…" another failed attempt. 

"I very much want my wonderful fiancée to feel safe in her new home, and-"

"Mr. Dekarios, for heaven's sake it wasn't me!" the tressym screeched and flapped her wings indignantly. Gale, at last, halted in his tracks and furrowed his eyebrows, the creases on his forehead deepening in displeasure. 

"Tara, are you being totally honest with me?" He said, his voice stern, and you stepped up behind him, laying a hand on his tense shoulder. He breathed out slowly, relaxing under your touch. "I apologize, Tara, Tav." He nodded to both of you in turn, then fully turned to you, taking your hands in his own. "I just- I can't stand the thought of you not feeling safe here with me. So, Tara, please, if it was you, just tell m-"

Thud

All three heads whipped around suddenly as a loud, clear thudding sound came from the wall of the study behind them. "Gods above, what kind of anim-"

Thud Thud 

"Gale-"

Thud Thud Thud 

"Mr. Dekarios-!" 

BANG!

Books flew off the bookshelves and piled unceremoniously into the floor as the wall cracked open with a blinding light for several seconds before a woman was revealed standing in the study with them. The crack of light closed as though it had never been there in the first place, and the woman, giggling gleefully, cast a spell to return the books to their rightful places. You took glances between the strange woman and Gale, whose jaw had fallen slack. But after several seconds of uncharacteristic silence, all was revealed.

"Mother?!" 

.

.

.

fin

Tagging Darlings: @knightofmight01

( If you'd like to be on the taglist for all my writing, please DM or send in an ask! Thank you for supporting me, and Happy Half-o-ween! <3 )

[oxpogues4lifexo]

Keeping up with the Camerons

— My Alternative Ideas —

This is my WHAT IF's of my show and how different it would've been if I had stuck with my original plans. Happy halfway mark to KuwtC!!!

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

• The Characters

I wanted to write them all as they were in the show that’s why they never stuck to my original ideas.

Ward: The nicest man on the island. I was hoping to keep him as the loving father everyone knows and loves until the last episode where all hell breaks loose. Except that didn’t end up happening because then the show wouldn’t have been interesting or real.

Rose: The caring mother. I wanted to write Rose like how she is in the actual show. She cares about the girls and somewhat Rafe but wouldn’t fight for him. Except I was going to write her as the woman everyone went to for help. She cared for everyone no matter what, and even Bella and Callum. But I didn’t because defending Callum is wrong and if she doesn’t like Rafe she’d never like him. Also it just felt right to write her the way I did because she just gives off posh snobby vibes and I wanted to accentuate that!

Rafe: The disobedient kid. I wrote him exactly how I wanted to. Except I wanted him to be the one to stand up for Bella. Not the one to shy away and not help. I didn’t write him like that because then it took away from the last episode. I wrote him to do the things he did for a reason. Everything I write has a reason. It all comes out in the last episode!

Sarah: The princess. I was going to write her in as a main character. As Bella’s best friend and her and Rafe got along. I don’t really know why I didn’t it’s just I never really got many scenes of Sarah in obx where I actually learnt something about her (my opinion anyways) so I found it difficult to involve her like I did Rafe as I don’t know as much and wouldn’t do her justice!

Wheezie: The quiet yet optimistic one. She’s the same. She always was even when I planned it a few months ago. She’s the only character I’d write the same way through and through.

Bella: The sweetheart. I wrote Bella exactly how I planned her. Shes my original character. I know her inside and out. I know things about her I’ve never written because I think about her a lot. I’ve written other fics, not on here, for myself. And she’s always been the main character. So it only felt right making her this one. It made writing it alittle easier.

Callum: The jerk. I never meant for him to turn out that way. I never think when I write I just let my mind lead the way and the first sentence I got with him taught me how he was going to be. I wanted him to be the overprotective big brother. The one who wouldn’t let anyone touch her or look at her. I wish I did write him that way, I regret not! It’s one of my only regrets from writing the show. But there wouldn’t have been a plot if I hadn’t made atleast one of the characters problematic and no one cared about Callum because he’s a made up OC I thought about on the spot! So it only made sense changing him and not someone like Rafe or Rose when that wouldn’t be accurate.

Topper & Kelce: The best friends. Yep they’re the same. I meant for them to be the side pieces but they ended up playing a big part and I actually like it that way! It gives me more personalities to play with. They’re how I view them in the show. Toppers always been caring but makes stupid decisions when provoked, and Kelce is the funny one who doesn’t have a single brain cell. (Again just my opinion)

JJ Maybank: The Pogue. He was meant to play a big role. I wanted him to be Bella’s actual best friend. Not Rafe. But I thought then it wouldnt be about the Camerons and no one would care because Bella’s someone none of you know and it wouldnt make sense to just cut to them when they aren’t in the family. But even though I did cut him out from a lot of scenes I still wanted him in it way more than he was. So stay tuned for upcoming episodes! That’s regret number 2.

John B Routledge: The Girlfriend Stealer. I expected him to be the one in it the least. I didn’t expect for him to be in a whole episode and a half. But there would’ve only been half the episode if I didn’t write someone like him in to fill up the gaps. I wanted him to just be wherever JJ was as I was hoping JJ would’ve been the main Pogue in the story. But things change and it worked out so here we are!

Kiara & Pope: The others. I never intended to write them in and I haven’t. Pope has nothing to do with the Camerons. His father wouldn’t have let him be. And Kiara wants nothing to do with Rafe. She wouldn’t be in it like John B was because then it wouldn’t make sense if I’m following from the actual show.

Bella’s Mum and Dad: The Dead Couple. Well I know her mums not dead but you get the idea. I wanted them to be in the picture. Or well the dad anyways. I always find it easier writing stories where the parents aren’t involved. But I never like not having any at all. But the fact we had Rose and Ward already in the story I didn’t need more. And to make the characters more interesting to you all I wanted to get rid of their parents. It also meant she got along well with John B as they’re in the same boat. Same as Sarah and Rafe hence why that’s how they met in the first place and why Rafe’s so sympathetic towards her. It makes the storyline what it is! The mum idk. I have no idea what she would’ve been like because she would’ve been gone either way. But the dad I was going to make him Wards best friend. He would’ve been the one to look after Bella and discipline Callum but then where's the show?? Also he would’ve been going through shit because the mum left so that’s why they had to stay with Ward for a while. Because he trusts him. But none of that happened because again the show is about the Camerons and it wouldn’t have made for the plot I’ve planned out!

• Relationships

Topper and Sarah: The Kook Couple. I originally wasn’t even going to write them together. I actually don’t know why not I thought it would’ve just been different but because I did it meant we got the whole John B arc aswell.

John B and Sarah: The Troubles. I wasn’t planning to make them like each other at all. But after I had to involve John B in the situation it just made sense to because it meant more story to write and more show to read for you all.

Rafe and Sofia: Ugh. I was going to make them a couple. Thats it. I wanted more characters in the show and she made sense. But then it wouldn’t have made for the tensions coming up in upcoming episodes.

Rafe and Bella: I wanted them to end up together at some point. But in my head, the person Bella is and the shit they both go through, a relationship between the two of them is the last thing they want. It’s the only thing they have left and they can’t ruin it.

Bella and JJ: I was going to make this a thing. From day one. The first episode. I wanted to write in all the tensions of them liking each other but not being able to show it around their friends because they aren’t supposed to like each other. The build up. Them finally saying yes etc. But once again, it’s not about them and also it wouldn’t have made sense for the amount JJ’s actually in the show anymore.

Topper and Bella: I know. Just wanted some tensions in the group when everyone found out lmao. Because I’m an angst enthusiast you see! But thought Bella isn’t like that and she wouldn’t do that to Rafe even though there’s nothing there.

• The Episodes

I was hoping on doing like 12 episodes for the first season. But when making the leaked footage I realised you can only add 10 pictures and I couldn’t be bothered to argue if I’m being honest lmao. But also 12 for someone like me who’s never committed to a big project like this was too many so I settled with 8. Normal for a first season anyways I’d say.

Episode 1: Kildare Royalty. I wrote it how I wanted it. I expected it to be longer however. But I didn’t know if anyone would read it and it’s the first episode which is never normally very long for tv shows. I’m very proud of the first episode though. I love how it turned out as it’s exactly how I imagined it! And you all loved it so thank you!!

Episode 2: A Helping Hand. Basically everything that happened I had planned except the conversations on the boat would’ve been the conversations in Wards office. I’m really happy with how it turned out to be honest I'm just upset it took so long because a lot of people stopped reading my work and it was a little bit of a shock when I didn’t get many likes compared to the first.

Episode 3: Life Inside The Bubble Wrap. I didn’t have high hopes for this episode. Like I already said I don’t really have a good grasp of Sarah’s character so it was a struggle for me to come up with a whole episode that would live up to the one previous. That’s why I ended up copying from the actual show. Overall as an episode I didn't mind it, except I don't remember a single thing that happened other than the huge argument at the end. Oops. I'm not surprised it didn't do as well.

Episode 4: Prince and Princess. For this episode I really just wanted to experiment with Bella and Rafe’s relationship. Which I did! I wanted to show who Rafe could be when he’s with the right person. And I wanted to get real deep into their pasts and their feelings. I loved this episode because it was set in a completely different place and the angst was just MWAH. And it was all about Rafe.

Episode 5, 6, 7, and 8: I have these planned out. There's always just been a rough plan for them all. Obviously by the names of them you can gather; 5 is about Rose, 6 is about Wheezie, 7 is where the shit begins to hit the fan and 8 is a total rollercoaster. I'm happy with my ideas for the rest of the season but I know for sure I will not be going along with my original plan since its gone off course a while ago. I will say however, my original idea for the last episode, it would be the end of the show completely, so all problems would be resolved and everyone would live happily ever after. Spoiler alert, that doesn't happen. I wanted there to be room for more, I love writing and this has been my gateway, I don't want it to end so if people like it enough and want more then there's room to make more.

• The Plot:

At first I wanted it to be a very open show. I mean like they travel around the island (the camera crew) and just ask people like the Pogue's what they think about the Cameron's. Meanwhile the Cameron's would just be going about their day to day life. There wasn't going to be much to it and Bella and Callum weren't going to be a thing. But I'm glad I changed my mind. I'm glad I added structure and an actual storyline and I'm glad I added Bella and Callum. I didn't want to just copy the real show and make it all about the Kooks and Pogues hating each other. Although it is based around that it isn't my main focus and I'm glad I decided to do it that way. When deciding to add Bella and Callum, my first thoughts were to bring them in as extras to speak about the Cameron's but they wouldn't be at the house all the time. I never had a clear idea of a plot so what it is now is pretty much my first idea.

• Seasons:

Originally like I said already, I was going to make it a one season show but now I have written half and knowing how its going to go, I like the idea of having more episodes to write. The next season will consist of resolving the issues of these season 1 episodes and also all the characters rekindling or breaking up their relationships with one another. That could be anyone from Ward to JJ to Topper etc. I want it to be more of a, see how it goes, kind of season and just have fun with it. Maybe it be less angsty and more fluff this time around. I don't know I want season 2 to be a more follower based season where you all give me ideas for the episodes or you guide me almost. I'd like that alot.

Any other questions or things you wanted to know let me know! Thank you for reading and showing so much love to the series so far!! Almost 100 likes on the trailer is insane so thank you!!! 💕

Episode 5 is in the works!!!

Taglist: @viawritesstuff @mymelodylvr @rafeinterlude @cerya @aariahnaa @nativegirltapes @b1mb0slvt @irlfaixry

[missholloween]

SORRY I JUST REALISED U RBD THE TRICK OR TREAT POST OML TRICK OR TREAT!!!

Hi!!!! I wanted to share one of the spooky ones (because you know, spooky season), so I was between vampires and werewolves. At the end, vampires win (I see you as more of a vampire person too? Tell me if I’m wrong)

The title of this fic is “come to me”, as me and @samuelandthesun were in a really big interview with the vampire mood. I hope the translation isn’t too funny because it was Really Hard to do (once again saying that if you all knew spanish you’d have the best fics ever).

TW for suicide attempt, blood <- nothing too heavy, picture iwtv

The cold night of December 31 wrapped around the only man who walked the empty streets of London. Crestfallen, he heard the laughs coming from the houses he walked by. He looked at the thousands of lights from the buildings that surrounded him, he heard the happy murmurs growing louder as the tower clock was closer to midnight.

It was new year, and Owen Carvour had gone through the worst year of his life. Finishing it alone was just the cherry on top of the shitty cake those last few days had been. His last days alive, he wished.

Owen was in walking through a bridge, and stopped halfway through. He looked at the horizon, a landscape tainted by human intervention. He looked at the stars, barely visible due to light pollution, yet existent: an invisible hope that would never abandon the night sky… But Owen didn’t have a star in his life. He only had a bunch of degenerates that weren’t able to see or understand his vision, his dreams. He could do so much more, but his legacy would end there. He climbed up the guardrail.

“It’s a bit ironic, trying to leave it all behind in new year’s eve, don’t you think?” said suddenly a voice at his right. “It’s all about new beginnings, but at the end of the day, we’re all the same.” The figure smiled.

As if he was a ghost, the man who had driven Owen to leave everything behind looked at him from the heights. Owen avoided his gaze, grabbing his chest and with his eyes on his objective: a quiet river that would finally let him rest.

“Look who’s talking. Did you know immortality stops your brain from growing? At least, yours has- I can’t believe you’re so old and so tactless.”

A gust of wind moved Owen, now with someone by his side. He felt a hand in his arm that made him shiver, a cold breeze that went through his hole body. How could he once have found warmth in it?

Even if his voice didn’t show it, Curt was worried. He tried to catch his partner’s attention. “Ouch, sick burn. What about the season’s joy and all of that?”

“What about minding your own business?”

“I’m sorry, Owe, but I think your suicide concerns me.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry, is my crumbling mental state affecting the wellbeing of the all-powerful Curtis Mega? Father of all egos, breeder of fools and brutes? Your highness, forgive this mere mortal for thinking that, after everything that has happened, he could at least finish his story alone.”

Owen looked at Curt with a painful fury that the vampire had only seen in men way older than him, men who had suffered many more years than him. Owen kept moving erratically on the guardrail. At no time Curt let go of his arm.

“Your story can’t stop here, Owen. I’m really sorry that your colleagues won’t believe your theories, but their approval shouldn’t be your priority, not when-“

“You still don’t get it, do you, Curt?!” Owen shouted, getting out of the foolish immortal’s grab. “You’ve been living your eternal existence with blood-tainted glasses for too long. You’ve forgotten how does it feel to be human! My life depends on their approval, Curt! I need it to survive, to keep going, to leave even the slightest mark on history!”

Silent rained between them, with only the sound of Owen’s heavy breathing. Curt opened his mouth to talk, but was quickly interrupted. “Not everyone has the time to be remembered…”

Finally, Owen collapsed, sitting on the bridge’s guardrail. He kept looking at the river, his defeated expression reflected in the calm water.

“Now I won’t be more than another idiot who thought he could do something more in this rotten world.”

“… What if you had it?”

Wind roared in that lonely bridge where the only rule their relationship had ever had had vanished.

Curt saw disbelief in Owen’s eyes, eyes more reddened that they should have ever been. However, there was also a hunger. An insatiable hunger that Curt knew all too well. A hunger that had leaded Owen to him.

Neither of them wanted to break the silence. Curt knew it wasn’t his place, and, for the first time, Owen was afraid of what the vampire Curt Mega could do.

“… You can’t be serious.”

One after the other, Owen’s defense were falling. Curt only had to tore them apart as he had learned to do.

“Do you think I’d joke about this?” Curt didn’t let the other answer, as he didn’t want to hear his answer. He just sat next to him. “I know… I know this is a really difficult choice. There’s too much to leave behind, and you might take all the time you need to finish all your-“

“Finish what, Curt? I don’t have a life, I’ve never had one! There’s no place for men like me in this shithole; there’s just boots to lick and orders to follow. My mere existence is a cruel design from some… Tired demiurge that wanted to laugh for a bit. Believe me, I’ve been dead for years.”

Curt couldn’t help but laugh, something that made Owen jump. Curt saw him open his mouth to insult him once more, but he cut him.

“It’s not you, Owen, it’s just… You remind me of someone I knew long ago. I think I’ve heard those words before.”

“What, some of your Belle Époque boys?”

“No. It was a young boy from the west of Texas. He was a little boorish for his age… And really stubborn. I should introduce you two some time.”

Owen, despite of himself, laughed. Their eyes speak for themselves.

“This isn’t going to be like other times… It is really going to hurt. You’ll have to stay conscious while bearing the pain and-“

“Curt,” Owen took his hands. “Don’t worry. I trust you.”

A kiss, then another. The lips of the vampire slowly went down until he reached a thin neck, one Curt had learned to navigate. He didn’t take long to find his vein and start sucking his blood.

The next kiss was the most intense Owen had ever felt: an explosion of flavor filled him, a nourishment he had never tasted. Then, Curt guided his mouth to the source of the ambrosia, and Owen sucked until he dried him.

When Owen Carvour opened his eyes again, he was dead to the world. And, for the first time in his life, he felt like a free man

[nightfall-1409]

Writer's Update

Hi everyone <3 sorry things are taking a bit of time, I'm going through An Ordeal and that has regrettably been the case of late. I don't like to publicly air too much, but it's led to some delays. Not dead, but, just some updates under the cut with some snippets <3

So I, As My Mother Before Me

Obviously my mother's day side story for sabine missed the deadline, I'll get that out ASAP (as soon as its done), and the teaser for it is that it covers Sabine's 'missing' time in the fic, and threading the needle wrt Ursa, Myles, and those sorts of background elements in the fic, as well as letting me, Nightfall, meditate on what exactly I want to have the connective tissue be for her background. It's probably for the best it got delayed so much, as it'll contain some spoilers for later content in (Re)Convene, depending on how long that takes me to catch up.

Snow makes the world quiet, still, and then she interrupts it. Sabine gasps as she feels it against her flight suit, cold, and sudden, and wakes in a horrible instance. There is snow and trees all around her, and the forest is quieter still.  She knows this forest, but it’s an impossibility. She stands, barely needing a moment to collect herself before she’s calling for, “Ahsoka!”  There is no one around.  She lowers her rangefinder, scans her surroundings, ignores her gut screaming at her that she knows this place. Hu-Yang or Ahsoka would chide her, tell her that she should at least make the attempt of meeting her surroundings, connecting with them.  But that is not her way, it is not the Mandalorian way, and in an emergency scenario where she didn’t know what was happening, she’d not out herself to their enemies.   She’s bringing Ezra home.  She’s not here.  This place isn’t real.  This place is gone, and they knew that it was being destroyed when she... Her rangefinder interrupts her thoughts, and tells her that she's on Krownest, and she bangs her hand down into the soft snow of her home again in a fist.

(Re)Convene Ch. 41 (Ezra) The Flash Of the Dark

hahah I do apologize for leaving you lot on that cliffhanger...im working through it :) In the meantime, the opener.

He finds that his teacher is in the library, and there’s an older woman next to him, grave and sad.  Quinlan’s expression too is serious.  Ezra responds by shelving any and all irritation about how many different places he’d looked in before finding the Shadow here.  “Ezra.  About time,” Quinlan jabs anyway, clearly intending to be playful and Ezra bites his tongue.  “This is Master Kostana.”  Quinlan introduces; and Ezra straightens further— this is who Obi-Wan had mentioned. “Master to Sifo-Diyas.  The council asked her to visit the Archives, to aid in the investigation of the Sith compulsion.” “Oh,” Ezra pauses, piecing together what all that means, before he softens his expression.  “Thank you for your aid, Master,” He bows his head forward slightly, and she waves one hand.  “I ought to thank you,” she says after a moment.  “For bringing his lightsaber home.” Woof.  Ezra can feel it at her side.  It is not a happy thing to know, though, and further… Ezra’s not exactly good at handling those sorts of conversations.  “Well, I wasn’t the one who…”

Other fics: Things are progressing, but perhaps not as quick as I'd like... on account of the fact I'm aiming for the clone bang sign ups at the end of June! No Spoilers yet! 😘 But I look forward to revealing it in good time. I hope to get it to the 10k mark by sign ups close on the 30th, I'm about halfway to that point rn.

[henrysglock]

I’ve finally had the time to start reading through your big analysis and. Oh. My. God.

I’m gonna rant for a second so I’m like really sorry if this comes across as odd or smth BUT IM SO GENUINELY LIKE VIBRATING IN MY SEAT.

The way you put your words and thoughts together is so incredibly digestible, I’ve always loved wordy and long analysis and essays but because of my neurodivergence it is sometimes hard to keep attention on what I’m reading if the story or subject isn’t captivating to me. Which is something I genuinely worried about, I really wanted to read this analysis because I’ve been waiting for it for so long, but because of the fandom drama and stuff personally it’s been really hard for me to get really into Stranger Things media, wether it be fics or BTS pics or anything like that

That being said, this is the most excited I’ve felt about Stranger Things in so long, and I mean that so literally. I’ve been captivated by your words and thoughts the entire time, I haven’t been able to look away from it except for what I’m doing right now because I NEEDED you to know how much I’m enjoying it, you’re work is always so so amazing and I love all of it so much

I feel the need, the want, to go and rewatch Stranger Things to see all of the things I’ve missed or point out more parallels and odd little notes

And that means so much to me because I miss being excited about this show so so so much, I have not been as excited in so long and I’ve felt genuinely depressed about it- so just thank you so very much you’re so slayful

Also this made me giggle ^

Hi!! sorry it took me like 3 days to get to this :<

I'm really really glad my writing is digestible and engaging. That's something I really worry about when I'm writing longer analyses, because honestly sometimes even I get a little lost when I'm mapping out all the webby connections the writers pack into ST/TFS.

I'm exactly the same, though, when it comes to reading about stuff I'm not interested in: it's like pulling teeth 😭 So it's a really really huge compliment to hear that my work made you excited about the source material again!! I'm just :> waowwwwww lsdkjfdslk <3

The fandom drama is such a turn-off, but I let the spite fuel my love for the source material that much more. I love being able to give a big "fuck you" to everyone who shit on me—I'm just happy people are connecting with my stuff, honestly. I'm so, so happy you enjoyed it, and that it's brought a little life back to the ST experience for you. Thank you so much for the kind words <3 They mean so, so much to me.

Rewatching ST with a new frame of mind is something I've been meaning to do since about halfway through that analysis...and by god I'm going to do it eventually!! It'll probably drive me utterly insane when I do...if you do it, you'll have to tell me if you catch anything I missed (because I am NOT cocky enough to assume I've caught everything; I'm sure that analysis only caught like...2/5 layers of the iceberg aldkjfa)

Also: Martin Brenner Old Man Yaoi will save the fandom—mark my words!!!

[rpf-bat]

THE YEAR OF NIKOLEKSI

At the beginning of 2023, I decided to participate in The Year Of The OTP: 12 prompts. 12 months. One ship. I chose Niko/Aleksi because, well, in Niko’s own words, they’re soulmates. 🤷‍♀️

I have a very bad habit of starting a writing challenge and then giving up halfway through. (Sorry, Whumptober and Whumpuary mods. 😅) But I actually completed YOTP, and I’m very proud of myself!! So, I’ve compiled all 12 fics into one masterpost:

January: DU LÜGST

Prompt: Historical AU

Word Count: 969

Summary: Vienna, Austria. 1794 A.D.

Niko has been studying abroad for a few years now, learning the art of music from a master composer. One day, he hears about a new, handsome face in town. A fellow Finn - and a fellow musician.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Historical, 18th Century, Flirting, Pre-Relationship, Short Oneshot

🖤

February: I’M A SHIPWRECK

Prompt: Mermaid AU

Word Count: 1,378

Summary: After a lover breaks his heart, Niko decides he doesn't want to live anymore, and dives into the sea. But, a mysterious savior drags him out of the water, back to shore. Niko isn't sure what shocks him more. That someone saved his life - or that that someone isn't human.

Tags: Suicide Attempt, Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Drowning, Near Death Experiences, Mouth-to-Mouth

🖤

March: TOWELS

Prompt: “Make Me.”

Word Count: 584

Summary: Aleksi is hogging all the towels in their shared hotel room, and Niko is annoyed.

Tags: Arguing, Flirting, Nudity, Implied Sexual Content

🖤

APRIL: WHAT ARE YOU DOING NEW YEAR’S EVE?

Prompt: “No, I’m Not Dating Your Brother!”

Word Count: 963

Summary: It's Christmas, and Niko is in Oulu, visiting his family. Aleksi is in a different city, but he decides to give Niko a video call, and wish him a happy holiday.

Joona can see the obvious crush Aleksi has on his brother, and decides to meddle a little.

Tags: Christmas Presents, Webcams, Fluff

🖤

MAY: MY CUTE HAMSTER

Prompt: Pet/Child Acquisition

Word Count: 546

Summary: Aleksi and Niko have been dating for about a year now. They already have Rilla, but they decide they're ready to adopt a second pet together.

Tags: Established Relationship, Short & Sweet, Tooth-Rotting Fluff

🖤

JUNE: IT WAS HATE AT FIRST SIGHT FOR US, DARLING

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Word Count: 801

Summary: Everyone has the first words that their soulmate will ever speak to them, written on the inside of their wrist.

But, there's just one problem. The words on Aleksi's wrist are "fuck you."

Tags: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmate Identifying Marks, Enemies To Lovers, Short Oneshot

🖤

July: LET’S SEE HOW FAR WE’VE COME

Prompt: Vacation Together

Word Count: 518

Summary: Two years after their performance at Eurovision, Niko and Aleksi return to Rotterdam for a romantic vacation.

Aleksi is feeling a bit nostalgic.

Tags: Established Relationship, Vacation, Short & Sweet, Fluff

🖤

August: ENGLISH SUMMER RAIN

Prompt: Storm

Word Count: 538

Summary: Niko and Aleksi share a hotel room, the night before a festival gig. Aleksi discovers that Niko has a phobia of thunder.

Tags: Thunderstorms, Astraphobia, Sharing A Bed, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Short & Sweet

🖤

September: FIFTEEN LOVE

Prompt: Meeting The Family

Word Count: 1,374

Summary: Aleksi travels to Oulu, to meet Niko’s little sister, and cheer her on at her tennis match.

Tags: Established Relationship, Meeting The Family, Tennis, Fluff, Minor Injuries

🖤

October: PLAYING COPS & ROBBERS

Prompt: Couple’s Costume

Word Count: 1,056

Summary: On the final night of the Warrior Souls Tour, Nyamjantsan - better known as “Jaya” - from The Hu invites Niko and Aleksi to a Halloween party.

Niko really wants to wear a costume that matches Aleksi - but the DJ isn’t really sure why.

Tags: Halloween, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Jealousy, Love Confessions, Fluff

🖤

November: THE WORST WISH

Prompt: “Be Careful What You Wish For”

Word Count: 1,489

Summary: Aleksi is in love with Niko. But, Niko is in a relationship with Joonas.

When he spots a shooting star in the sky, Aleksi wishes - for one, selfish second - that Joonas would disappear, so that Niko could be his. Immediately, he regrets it. But, when Joonas gets into a terrible accident the next day, Aleksi is consumed with guilt. He can’t help but think this is all his fault.

Tags: Car Accidents, Major Character Injury, Hospitals, Pining, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Angst With A Happy Ending, Polyamory

🖤

December: ROSES ARE DEAD, VIOLETS ARE DOOMED

Prompt: Tattoo Parlor/Flower Shop AU

Word Count: 2,242

Summary: Aleksi is on the bus, headed to his part-time job at his aunt’s flower shop, when he meets a young tattoo apprentice named Niko.

Aleksi is only sixteen, and it only takes a day for Niko to become his first crush. But, Niko appears to have his eye on someone else.

Tags: Alternate Universe - Flower Shop & Tattoo Parlor, Teen Romance, First Crush, Light Angst, Not Actually Unrequited Love, First Kiss

[backtothestart02]

Just to be Sure - 1/1 | [RC - 9x05]

A/N: My sort-of fix-it fic to the end of 9x05. I hope you all enjoy! Takes place right after the ep.

...

Synopsis: Post 9x05 - Barry can tell something's off after he and Iris get home.

...

Iris was able to feed off the happiness for the duration of the party, but Barry must’ve known something was off about her smile, her laughter, even the way she talked, because he brought it up to her as soon as they walked through the door of their loft hours later.

“Hey, you okay?”

His hand on her lower back, his eyes glued to her face, she knew she couldn’t hide from him.

And yet, she tried to.

“What? Oh, yeah, I’m fine. It’s just been a long day, and I’m pregnant now, so I get tired easier, I think.”

Barry thought about that, thought about how the only thing they’d done today, since it was a Sunday, was go to the going away party for Joe, but he allowed that given how many revelations there’d been there that maybe it was aloud to be a long day.

“Do you feel any better?” he asked, concerned, even as she distanced herself to slide out of her shoes.

“Hmm?” she asked, confused. “What do you mean?”

“I mean…before Khione told us, you were feeling lightheaded. Do you still feel lightheaded?”

“Oh.” She blinked. “No. Actually. My stomach hurts a little though. Maybe I’ll go lie down on the couch after I change clothes. Or maybe I’ll just lie in bed. It’s more comfortable there.”

She was halfway to the stairs when his concerned stare prompted him to talk again, reminding her not for the first time that they were more in tune than ever.

“You wanted to find out first, didn’t you?”

She stilled, her hand on the railing, one foot on a step. She looked over her shoulder at him, her eyes glimmering.

“It’s fine, Barry. I mean, you already told me it would happen in three months, so-”

“So, you already had one person telling you when it would happen,” he said, approaching her. “And today, after you thought you had the chance to choose your future, you had another.”

She looked down at her still flat belly and felt herself well up with emotion as he covered his hand over hers on the railing.

“Iris?”

She swallowed, and her voice cracked when she spoke.

“I just wanted to tell you myself, you know? Take a test, surprise you with breakfast the next morning, and…tell you. And then together we could tell everyone else. You know, like how we did when we got engaged?” She paused. “The first time.”

She tried to smile, but it was more wistful than anything, and her eyes were shining with tears.

“That would’ve been nice.” He shared her sad smile.

“But…I wouldn’t have even thought to take a test for another month and a half, because your book said three months. Plus, with everything going on with Red Death and the rogues, it just….never occurred to me to even buy a test. I just didn’t think I could possibly be pregnant till that three-month mark, as crazy as that sounds. I don’t know why I thought that. When you change one thing in the timeline, it snowballs into all sorts of changes.”

She nibbled on her bottom lip, seeking some sort of logic into how messy her emotions were right now. She should still be celebrating. She was pregnant! Little Nora was coming, for real this time. And yet, she couldn’t stop going over the how of it all, and how it should’ve been her choice. It should’ve!

“Oh, c’mere, Iris,” she heard Barry saying, and then he was taking her into his arms, and she was collapsing into them.

His hands stroked her hair, and she was sniffling and almost sobbing, and it had come out of nowhere!

“God, I feel like I’m PMSing,” she muttered through the tears.

“Not quite.” Barry chuckled softly, making her laugh a little too.

“Won’t be doing that for a while.”

“At least nine months.”

She huffed a sigh and snuggled against his chest, letting him hold the full weight of her where they stood at the bottom of the steps.

“I have an idea,” Barry said after a while.

Iris sniffled.

“What?”

He untangled himself and tilted her face up, so he could wipe away the remaining tears.

“Why don’t we get a pregnancy test?”

Iris rolled her eyes.

“What would be the point? We already know.”

“Yeah, because Khione told us. How does she know? Is she an empath? Some other type of meta? We don’t know, and neither does she. We just took her word for it because she sounded so sure. It didn’t occur to us to get another opinion. But we really should get some solid evidence other than you feeling lightheaded, don’t you think? You can be lightheaded and have the flu.”

Iris blinked.

“We should get a test.”

She smiled slowly.

“I mean, we should find out for sure, that way we really know.”

He nodded and smiled, then kissed the corner of her lips.

“I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Literally two seconds later, Barry was back with a box of pregnancy tests in his hand and a super grin on his face.

Iris laughed, her sniffles gone, and the remaining tear tracks wiped from her face.

“Go take your test,” he encouraged, holding it out to her. “I’ll wait here.”

She smiled, taking it from him and making a beeline for the downstairs bathroom. Luckily, she’d had plenty of lemonade at the party and didn’t need to drink anything else in order to promptly pee on a stick.

After doing so, the time she had to wait felt unbearable. She kept checking her phone for the minutes to pass, but she felt very much like a speedster with how slow the seconds were going, and then at last, it was ready.

She tilted the test towards her where it sat on the counter, and an overflowing abundance of joy poured out of her, like she was finding out for the first time.

She opened the door, test in her hand, and found him standing almost on top of her as soon as the door swung open.

“Well?” he asked, looking nervous as hell, as if he didn’t already know, as if they both hadn’t before he went and got the test at the store.

She showed it to him.

“Two lines. I’m pregnant!”

His smile stretched wide across his face, and his eyes crinkled. He swept her up in his arms, careful not to spin her too fast, and when he set her down again, her smile was as wide and genuine as his was. She even giggled, overwhelmed with happiness.

“There’s the reaction I was hoping for,” he said, and his eyes were so soft and heartwarming, she didn’t know how she could possibly love this man more.

“I love you,” she said, cupping his face and bringing him down to her for a kiss.

“I love you more,” he murmured and embraced her again.

[jinnxd]

Not only was I just thinking about you and your fic just as you updated it, you also wrote Mizuki in a way that absolutely made me disgusted, it was too perfect. Like spot on with some of the guys that have hit on me and one I ended up dating. Absolutely gross, I loved it! Even though it made my skin crawl. Like fuck Mizuki, Orochimaru can have his body if you ask me. And I can't wait to absolutely melt when you get to the point of actually making Kiya and Kakashi date. Is fanfiction off of fanfiction a thing? Because I can imagine it now: they get together and everything around the same time as team 7 is formed, and then Naruto and Sasuke get assigned to team 7, and they gotta warm up to Kakashi one way or another, and he to them, and it all ends up in the most adorable family picnic. Or family vacation. Where Kakashi and Kiya are trying to have a romantic moment or two that the kids keep ruining because they're trying to have a dumb contest, the kind Kakashi and Guy regularly have. Meanwhile Kiya and Kakashi are working on a way to take down Danzo. And both of the boys end up overhearing that goal but never know the reason why they wanna do that. And also I headcanon sasunaru so Sasuke leaves after the exams anyway, and along the way realizes his feelings for Naruto run deeper and so he returns to his family. And Naruto realizes his feelings after training with Jiraya. Kakashi and Kiya are kinda weirded out but they've seen weirder things so it's fine. And as a family, they take down Danzo. But during the fight Danzo reveals what he wanted to do with Kiya which makes both kids rage so hard they don't even leave a single atom of him remain once he's dead. Is there a plot to this? Absolutely, it's called revenge and happiness because fuck Danzo and I want everyone else to be happy. Anyway sorry for rambling, THANK YOU FOR THE UPDATE, and I love you baiii <3

omg… you were thinking about me?! hehe I’m blushingggg (*´ ˘ `*).｡oO ( ♡ )

I felt horrible writing Mizuki and Kiya’s interactions, but they’re really just all based on past experiences of mine :3 that and I just took every single revolting aspect I could think of and threw them all at him hehehe—self-proclaimed “alpha male”? Check. Constantly interrupts Kiya and refuses to take no for an answer? Check! Negs her at every possible turn? Check, check, check!!!

(AU headcanon: Mizuki is a die-hard Andrew Tate fan)

I feel like we’ve all had shitty experiences with shitty men before (like wtf why are they EVERYWHERE) so this chapter/Mizuki’s WHOLE character is a tribute to all the victims of shitty men (≧o≦) I sincerely hope that the guy you ended up dating did not last long at all, and I hope he got what was coming to him! No one deserves to be treated that way >:(

(but I admit I’m having fun with this—it’s like Mizuki is being put in a public stockade and we all get to throw rotten tomatoes at him :) in a way, it’s nice to see that he’s so widely hated, because WE ALL DESERVE BETTER!!!)

I can’t wait for Kakashi and Kiya to get together, either🤭 there’s been a tiny hint of progress, but there’s still a long way to go until they both stop being idiots and just KISS already 👺

The fanfic of a fanfic is ADORABLE, I love that so much :’) I just want them all to be happy, they deserve so much love <3

And as for the Danzo takedown, there are a million different ideas in my head that are floating around!!! It sort of drives me crazy because everything else has an outline, but Danzo’s demise is just one big question mark🙈 the goal is to have it be a team effort, give everyone a chance to get their revenge, y’know? But then in the meantime Danzo just gets to LIVE until Sasuke’s old enough to beat him up… AHHHH idk idk idk all I know is I want everyone to jump his old mummy-looking ass 😌

RAMBLING IS MY FAV, I LOVE RAMBLING!!! (as we can all tell, I physically cannot shut up… we’re barely halfway through the story and at almost 300k words… oopsie) DONT APOLOGIZE FOR RAMBLING!!!!! Thank *you* for this lovely lovely comment, it was a pleasure to read 🫶🫶🫶

SENDING YOU SO MUCH LOVE!!!! ( •ॢ◡-ॢ)-♡

[saellefanwork]

𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕋𝕖𝕒𝕣𝕤 𝕠𝕗 𝕋𝕚𝕞𝕖

Reminder: This Demon Slayer fic is rated Mature (adults only) for canon-typical violence and eventual suggestive or explicit sexual content

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Chapter 26: Grief and Gratitude

Tanjiro visits Kyojuro to see how he is holding on.

Author's note: Happy New Year with delay guuuuys! Sorry that I'm a bit late, I was more wasted than expected after the new year lmao. That's the pros and cons of hosting the party, I guess. Not everyone can be as flashy as our dear Uzui the days following such an incredible night of cosplaying and playing board/video games with my gang!

Anyway, this is a long chapter, and I think it's FINALLY a calm one where some good things happen. 2024 shall bring less angst and suffering to our characters, I swear!

There's actually only two chapters left. The rest will be bonuses!

Kyojuro held your hand, which seemed so delicate and cold in his, his eyes tracing the calluses and scars that adorned your palm and fingers. To most, such marks might appear unsightly, but the former Flame Pillar found them beautiful. They were the hands of a warrior who had battled, bled, and made profound sacrifices in the relentless pursuit of protecting others.

As a Pillar of the Kisatsutai, he was no stranger to the concept of sacrifice. To fulfill his duty and shield the vulnerable or his subordinates, he had willingly placed his life on the line, time and time again, without a moment's hesitation. Yet, upon reflection, he could recognize the boundaries of his own resolve when compared to yours. As a proud heir of the Rengokus, he found himself unable, or at the very least highly reluctant, to compromise his image, dignity, or principles. Becoming a demon, remaining one to vanquish his foes and save innocent people, or even accepting the loss of a civilian to ambush an Upper Moon—these were not options for him if the decisions were his to make. But you, you could seize such opportunities, unburdened by the fear of tarnishing your honor if it meant safeguarding your loved ones or more lives. To fight against monsters, one must accept the possibility of becoming a monster himself. Sacrifices were part of being a Demon Slayer, a reality well known to all, yet few were willing to soil their hands to fulfill their duty. By shouldering such weight, you demonstrated a level of selflessness that exceeded his own. In this aspect, you reminded him of his dear friend Tengen, who had quite a dark past too. Both of you were more honorable than him in his opinion, even though others might unjustly criticize your lifepaths. He acknowledged that he, too, had been unjust to you at some point.

His thoughts meandered through memories of the challenging last few months that the two of you had faced together. It was difficult to fathom that nearly a year ago, he had professed his love to you for the first time, after years of close friendship. The recollection of your initial kiss brought a faint smile to his lips, though the subsequent events left him burdened with profound sorrow and regret. His upbringing had instilled within him a stringent code of conduct, deeply rooted in bushido principles, but it offered no pardon for his past actions. He understood that you had forgiven him already, yet he longed to voice his remorse once more. How much he wanted to talk to you again...

"Rengoku-san Aniki..."

The Hashira raised his head slightly upon hearing his name, his thoughts disrupted as he turned halfway toward the room's entrance. He must have been deeply engrossed in his contemplation not to have sensed the presence of his former tsuguko approaching The young man stood near the door, his expression tinged with concern.

"Come over here, Tanjiro my boy," Kyojuro invited, tapping the seat beside him, unconsciously mimicking their second meeting on the train. The charcoal burner was taken aback by his superior addressing him by his given name, although Giyuu was also using it since the Hashira training. It wasn't unwelcome; in fact, quite the opposite. He nodded warmly and approached with a smile, which turned sad as he glanced at you.

"Nagase-san, she is..."

"Hmm! Kanoko has been in a coma for three months, as I'm sure your little sister has explained to you," Kyojuro began, his voice remaining as robust and steady as ever. "Nezuko has been a tremendous aid in taking care of her. The butterfly girls fon't allow me to tend to her, citing modesty and feminine dignity, so all I can do is hold her hand when they're not attending to her."

Tanjiro smiled compassionately at his former mentor, finding it admirable that Kyojuro could still provide kind and reassuring smiles despite the helplessness he must be feeling. He could hear and smell the worry and hint of self-deprecation that the retired Pillar exuded.

"I was informed that her body has endured significant strain due to her Blood Demon Art," Tanjiro confirmed as he settled into the offered seat. "But her scent suggests she's in a peaceful slumber, at least. I wouldn't be surprised if she awakens soon," he added with sincerity, wearing an encouraging smile.

Kyojuro's large eyes widened slightly as he gazed at his tsuguko, then his expression softened. "That's wonderful news, Tanjiro! I also have faith she'll wake up soon, but it's comforting to hear it from a person who truly believes it too."

The two young men remained at your side for an extended period, sharing updates and easygoing conversation, occasionally punctuated by tranquil silences. The months they had spent together as master and disciple had forged a camaraderie that resembled a fraternal bond, something that the boy in the checkered haori found both gratifying and pride-worthy.

"Rengo... Kyojuro-san," Tanjiro ventured timidly, emboldened by the informal address now used by his senpai. He was relieved to see that the older man didn't correct him. "How about we take a walk outside? It might help clear your mind, and I need to attend my recovery training anyway."

"Excellent idea!" Kyojuro responded enthusiastically. "How about I supervise your training, as a tribute to the months you've spent as my tsuguko?"

"With pleasure!" the young boy replied, his enthusiasm undiminished, despite his lingering apprehension. He vividly remembered the demanding nature of the Flame Pillar's tutoring, but he was not one to shy away from challenges or intimidation. He was the eldest son after all!

You awoke for the first time since the final battle a few days after the conversation between Tanjiro and Kyojuro. The enticing aroma of food miraculously pulled you out of the limbo where you had been immersed for months. Slowly, you opened your eyes, your stomach growling despite your confused state. The first thing that met your gaze was Aoi leaning over you, her brows furrowed, her serious face almost entirely filling your blurred field of vision.

She professionally lifted your eyelids and examined each of your pupils before straightening.

"It's good to see you've regained consciousness, Nagase-san. You've been showing signs of restlessness in your slumber for a few hours now, so I suspected you'd wake up soon. How do you feel?"

"Very weak...," you murmured, your voice hoarse and almost inaudible. "Food... smells good..."

"Does it? It's just soup, though. Now that you're fully human again, you can have it for dinner. Sorry that your first meal in so long can't be something more special, but you'll need to eat soft food for at least a few days."

Despite your disoriented state, a powerful emotion overcame you. Human food, not the blood of wild animals or the one of your dear comrades... you had almost forgotten how a real good meal tasted. How long had you been asleep, anyway? Your gaze instinctively turned toward the window above you. The setting sun bathed the cherry blossoms and plum trees of the Butterfly Estate's courtyard in a silky light with warm pink hues. It was already spring… You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sadness at having missed so much precious time with your loved ones.

Aoi supported you to sit up and slipped the tray of food in front of you. Despite the hunger and the joy of being human again (and alive), a question gnawed at you.

"Kyojuro...?"

"He's doing well. He had to be placed in intensive care after the battle, but he was only unconscious for two weeks afterward. He started his rehabilitation a month ago." Rehabilitation? You didn't have time to inquire further as she continued, "He was doing exercises with Tanjiro and Inosuke. I didn't want to give him false hope, so I didn’t tell him that you might wake up soon, but I saw Kaname-san fly off his perch when you emerged. He should be back any moment now."

You had many questions, but it was difficult to speak, so you settled for nodding and focused on eating. Soup had never feel so good, and it was frustrating that your hand trembled a whole lot. Your watchful assistant only intervened when necessary, letting you reacquaint yourself with moving again as much as possible. After a few spoonfuls, you already began to feel a bit better.

Toward the end of the laborious meal, Kyojuro burst into the chamber with a deafening crash of the western door.

"Kanoko! You're really awake!" he exclaimed with a huge smile, his face radiating both contagious joy and profound relief.

"Don't shout in the patient's room," Aoi snapped at him.

Ignoring her, your childhood friend jumped swiftly to your side, taking your hand in his. His shunpo made an unusual, loud clicking sound, almost like he had struck the ground with something hard, but your foggy mind didn't delve into the details. You smiled tenderly at your beloved, gently caressing his face with your free hand. He hastily kissed your palm and rested his cheek against it, gazing at you with fondness. Embarrassed by your open displays of affection, Aoi coughed and grumbled about the Flame Pillar's incorrigible behavior.

"Kyojuro... I'm relieved to see you in good shape," you said with an amused tone, as much as your rusty vocal cords allowed.

"Hmm! Kocho's rehabilitation therapy is as effective as ever. You'll be back on your feet soon too, Kanoko! Right, Kanzaki?"

He turned his attention to your nurse, seeking her confirmation, but Aoi's countenance took on a somber and sorrowful complexion. She tightly gripped the hem of her apron, nervously fidgeting with it.

"Um... yes! My master has already prepared customized treatments for both of you. You'll regain your strength quickly, Nagase-san."

Your gaze shifted between Kyojuro, whose expression had subtly closed off although he maintained a reassuring smile, and the remorseful young girl before you. You decided to address the aspiring doctor directly.

"What do I need to know, Kanzaki? I was aware of the risks every time I used my Blood Demon Art. What's the final diagnosis?"

Aoi's countenance deepened into a new shade of sadness, but she responded, "Well... according to Shinobu-senpai's analyses, it appears that the Time Backlash has caused irreversible damage to your body, Nagase-san... especially the last two instances during your transition back to your human form. While most of your battle injuries have left minor scars, many of your organs seem to have weakened, as if they've prematurely aged. I'm truly sorry to have to deliver this news like this, but... in this state, it's unlikely that you will live past thirty."

The absence of surprise in Kyojuro's darkened expression, who was no longer smiling, indicated that he had already been informed of the situation. He inspected your reaction with concern, raising his eyebrows when he noticed you softly laughing.

"In the context of a demon hunter's lifespan, thirty years equates to old age. An early end is a small price to pay for the miracles granted by my Blood Demon Art, and it would be in poor taste to complain when Marked individuals have even less time ahead of them." A menacing anguish stirred within you as you thought of the fate awaiting most of the remaining Pillars and Tanjiro... but you pushed it aside for now. Kyojuro held your hand tighter; you managed to continue, "I have no regrets. Thank you for informing me about all this, Kanzaki."

"Don't thank me... you have every right to be angry or sad, you know. What's happening to you is unfair. The rest of us stayed behind, which is why we are alive and in good health. On the other hand, you fought valiantly, and..."

She burst into tears, unable to finish her sentence.

"...And we were rewarded with a magnificent victory," Kyojuro continued, completing her thought and placing a comforting hand on her shoulder. "The end of a thousand-year-old war. That is worth all the sacrifices. We did it precisely because we didn’t want others to go through the same hardships as we did. Unlike many fallen comrades, we even have the chance to witness the dawn of a world without demons, where the new generations can live without fearing the night. Don't be sad, Kanzaki. Let's cherish the time we have left together, in honor of those who departed this world too soon. And who knows, miracles may happen!"

Aoi continued to cry while nodding vigorously. "I promise we'll do our best to keep you healthy for as long as possible! We'll defy the odds!"

"I have no doubt that you all will do an extraordinary job, thank you!" Kyojuro exclaimed enthusiastically, his gentle pat turning into an encouraging slap on her shoulder.

"Whatever happens, we'll forever be grateful for your care," you added with a sincere smile.

Aoi threw herself into your arms, and both you and Kyojuro chuckled at her outpouring of emotion. It was rare to see the young girl in this state, as she typically wore a mask of severity and discontent. You returned her embrace warmly, gently rubbing top of her head.

The butterfly nurse eventually left the room, and you quickly drifted back to sleep after the meal, your body still recovering. Kyojuro remained steadfast by your side throughout the night, despite the staff's insistence that he should lie in the neighboring bed. You didn't try to persuade him otherwise, fully aware of his stubbornness and relishing the comfort of having him close.

Dawn broke, and you awoke again, a habit perhaps formed during your last year as a demon desperately avoiding daylight. Sensing your restlessness, Kyojuro opened his valid eye as well.

"What's wrong, Kanoko? Is there something you need?"

"The sunrise..." you whispered, your voice strained from fatigue.

Initially, Kyojuro assumed you were still half asleep and was about to reassure you that the sun couldn't harm you anymore. However, he soon realized that fear was not the cause of your reaction. With an understanding gleam in his eye, he gently lifted you into his arms, cradling you as if you weighed nothing. He swiftly wrapped a blanket around you then carefully carried you outside. Once again, you noticed something different in his gait and the sound of his footsteps, but your thoughts were swept away when he executed a leap that brought you both to the rooftop. A tile broke beneath him after his slightly ungraceful landing, and he muttered to himself about Kocho going to kill him later for that mishap.

You chuckled softly, abruptly halting as you felt the first rays of light on your skin. Your gaze wandered toward the horizon, where the lush tropical forest and the mountains gradually came to life under the gentle morning glow. The colors of spring blossomed before you, vibrant and more captivating than ever, while the melodious symphony of birds celebrated the dawning of a new era. As you observed the daystar emerging from the dew-kissed landscape, you couldn't help but be reminded of Kyojuro's warmth. The soothing rays caressed your skin, which had grown pale after a year of darkness. You closed your eyes, basking in the embrace of the sunshine, a tear of joy tracing a path down your cheek. The Flame Hashira watched you in profound silence as you savored your first peaceful sunrise.

"My time as a demon has been a challenge for both of us, but I want to thank you for being my guiding light through this long and painful night," you whispered serenely.

You couldn't see it, but a myriad of emotions danced across Kyojuro's features. You felt him draw nearer, and he pressed a gentle kiss to your temple, his touch welcome, though you could sense it was tinged with a hint of restraint. You opened your eyes, meeting the blazing sea of his gaze. You couldn't help but get lost momentarily in the contemplation of his captivating beauty, his radiance accentuated by the blessing of the morning sun.

"In truth, Kanoko, it's the opposite," he murmured. "Thank you for all the times you saved me, despite knowing the consequences it would have on our relationship and your own well-being. Without your unwavering dedication and sacrifices, I don't know if we would have won, and for sure I would have never experienced the joy of witnessing the dawn of a demon-free world with you."

His words brought a lump to your throat, and you lifted your head to capture his lips in a kiss filled with profound emotions. You perceived a fleeting hesitation and a hint of tension on his side, causing you to pull back slightly, searching his eye with a questioning expression. He averted his gaze uncomfortably.

"I didn't want us to have this discussion right away, but... it seems necessary now. I love you with all my heart, Kanoko. My deepest desire is to cherish the years we have left together and make the most of it. However, given our potentially limited time, I would understand if you felt the need to seek someone with a better chance of living a full life, a man who could watch your future children grow if you decide to have any," he spoke slowly, each word carefully chosen.

You could sense the load of his speech, the difficult contemplation he had undertaken while you were in your coma. The recent events must have weighed heavily on him, and it was clear that he had grappled with this resolution to give up on you. It struck you that your positions had reversed from a previous conversation you'd had, right before he embarked on his mission aboard the Mugen Train.

"What about you, Kyojuro?" you asked, your gaze fixed on him. "Do you desire to find a healthy partner who might have a better chance of raising your future children?"

The former Flame Pillar shook his head firmly, his gentle smile unwavering as he looked deep into your eyes.

"No, I don't. I want no one but you in my life, and I believe I'd rather be alone than seek another solely for the sake of normalcy. However, I would like you to take some time to seriously consider it, now that we are free from our duties and can meditate on these matters. I wouldn't want to deprive you selfishly of a better future; I could never forgive myself if I did."

You rolled your eyes, hoping to convey that he was worrying needlessly.

"Kyojuro… Do you truly believe I would give up on you after all we've been through to hold onto each other? I don't want anyone else in my life either."

Despite your reassurances, you could tell that he had something more to say.

"Even if I'm not… the same as before?" he whispered uncertainly.

The vulnerability in his voice left you momentarily speechless. Sensing your confusion, Kyojuro lifted the folds of his hakama, revealing his left leg—or rather, the absence of it. In place of his limb was a prosthesis, primarily composed of wood and lightweight metal, stopping just short of the knee. You didn't recall that your companion had lost his leg during the battle, but he had been seriously injured and poisoned in that area. Perhaps Shinobu had deemed amputation necessary afterward due to complications.

Kyojuro expected a horrified or more saddened reaction, but you didn't show much surprise; instead, your irises lit up with understanding. The strange noises when he walked and his 'clumsiness' on the rooftop now made sense. Your expression softened, and you gently caressed the prosthesis. Was he afraid you would love him less because of his wounds or perceived weakness? You knew that the loss of his half his eyesight had affected him more than he had let on already. But to you, he was more than just raw strength, bravery, or swordsmanship. He was the person closest to your heart, and he was the most beautiful man in the world to you, with or without any scars or disabilities. You could only hope to help him see that.

"Really, Kyojuro... is this the best you can do to try to convince me that there's a worthier match for me? Because that's not working very well." you replied with a teasing smile.

He looked at you in surprise, not expecting your lighthearted response, before letting out an amused breath. He knew you well enough to realize that he wouldn't change your mind anytime soon. So he gave in to his desires and leaned closer to you, placing his lips on yours and adding his warmth to the daylight.

The following morning, your first recovery training exercises began. They weren't harsh, but given your condition, even standing proved to be a challenge. You could feel just how weakened your body had become, and something inside you told you that, apart from your life expectancy, you might never fully regain your pre-demonization strength and vitality. However, mastering total concentration breathing allowed you to get back on your feet relatively quickly, and after a few days, you could walk without support. It was at this point that Kyojuro proposed taking a stroll through the Kisatsutai cemetery, a suggestion to which you readily agreed. Although you had only briefly been a part of this army and had known only a fraction of its members, you still wanted to pay your respects to your fallen comrades. The idea of informing these brave warriors that their fight was over and they could finally rest in peace felt like an important step in allowing both of you to move forward.

As you strolled through the graves, placing a flower at each tombstone, you quickly ran out of chrysanthemums. You had left some baskets behind, thinking you might not have the energy for an extended walk, but since you were feeling fine, Kyojuro offered to go back to fetch them. He took a shortcut across the woods, perhaps pushing his prosthesis a little too hard, but he couldn't help testing his limits. You let out an exasperated sigh as you watched him jump from a tree branch to another playfully, despite Shinobu's warnings not to engage in unnecessary risks. However, you knew better than to judge him harshly; after all, you were not much different and recently had your share of scoldings for the same reasons. Old habits died hard, it seems.

After waiting for a few minutes, you felt the approach of two individuals along the path, likely some former members of the Corps or relatives of the deceased.

"Anehue! You're back to normal!"

You turned just in time to intercept Senjuro, who had sprinted toward you from a distance and launched himself into your arms. Wide-eyed, you held him tightly, a lump forming in your throat. Kyojuro had promised that you would visit his family after you had regained enough stamina to make the journey back to Komazawa, so you didn't expect to see his littler brother so soon, but you welcomed the chance nonetheless. It had been almost a year since you had last met; he had grown so much, and the tips of his spiky bangs now brushed against your nose. His familiar scent enveloped you along with the warmth of his embrace, and you noticed he had become stronger, although he remained a relatively ordinary young boy in that regard.

"Senjuro... I missed you so much..."

That was all you managed to say without breaking into tears. The teenager was crying freely in your arms, and you hugged him even tighter. After a few moments, you finally released him and took a step back, looking into his eyes for the first time after such a long time. The resemblance between the Rengokus was still as striking as ever, and Senjuro's puberty only emphasized his connection with his brother and father.

"Me too, Anehue... I'm so happy to see you again." His bass voice had deepened somewhere between his thirteenth and fourteenth spring. "Now that you're back to your human form and awake, we can see each other like we used to, right?"

You were about to respond affirmatively but froze as you remembered sensing another presence approaching earlier, now standing behind Senjuro. With a sinking feeling in your stomach, you slowly raised your eyes to the third party, already knowing who it was: Rengoku Shinjuro. He must have witnessed the entire exchange. How would he react to learning the truth about you?

Contrary to your expectations, the gruff man appeared surprisingly relaxed. He stood with his arms crossed, adopting a pose that bore a resemblance to his eldest son's signature one, albeit more casually. His expression held a hint of exasperation and weariness, as he addressed you.

"Don't make that face, Nagase. Senjuro confessed everything to me weeks ago. I had suspected a while back that you had become a demon, which is why my sons avoided talking about you, and you stopped coming to the estate. If you had died, they would have eventually told me. But I must admit I didn't imagine you were fighting in that condition for the Kisatsutai, or that you had saved Kyojuro with your powers, and had been in a coma because of your Blood Demon Art.”

Lowering your gaze, you remained silent, still holding Senjuro's hand. Your beloved reappeared at that moment with new baskets of flowers, arriving through the path this time. His customary radiant smile suddenly turned vigilant upon noticing his father. While he greeted him respectfully, he subtly positioned himself slightly between the two of you in a protective gesture.

"It's been a while, Father. I'm glad to see you're in good health," he said sincerely, but with a touch of caution in his voice.

Indeed, the patriarch appeared to be sober and stable, displaying a composure that was unusual for him. In fact, you couldn't recall ever seeing him leave his home for anything other than sake runs. You wondered how long this change had been occurring. Senjuro's timid but relaxed smile seemed to indicate that it had been a while.

"Humph. It would be better if you came back more often and stayed longer, like I'd expect from my eldest son," his father chided without any real bite in his voice. "You took so long to send news and return that I had to come get you myself with your little brother. And what do I find once I arrive to the Butterfly Manor? That you're leisurely strolling nearby with Nagase without a care. Tssk, I should have known better than to worry for nothing."

Despite his exasperated speech, there was a hint of amusement and relief in his tone. It was rare to hear this man, who had been so distant, stern, and violent until recently, express his feelings. Not giving you a break to get used to this new behavior, Shinjuro looked around with a tinge of regret.

"It's been a while since I last came to this place. I have many comrades resting here too. I suppose it's time I pay my respects properly. Let's continue together."

After exchanging a glance with your partner, you shrugged your shoulders, having no reason to refuse. The visit to the graves proceeded in a respectful and contemplative silence. You placed a flower at each tomb, mostly without saying anything. Occasionally, Shinjuro or Kyojuro would introduce a Slayer they had known, sharing one or two memories about them, their expressions filled with sorrow. It was hard not to have tears in your eyes and a heavy heart while listening to their stories, even if you didn't personally know the deceased. Fortunately, the grief was softened by the idea that no more victims would be buried here in the line of duty, and you conveyed the wonderful news through your prayers to each of these valiant warriors.

"Shall we have some tea?" Senjuro finally suggested when the last flower was offered. "I brought some... it's probably lukewarm now, but this tea is good cold too, and the weather is nice. I also made some mochis."

You found a charming spot under a sakura tree. The four of you enjoying leisure time together was a new experience and felt a little awkward. You weren't used to anything other than hunting demons or training for that purpose, making you feel a bit restless, as if you were wasting precious time you no longer had to spare. Additionally, it was challenging to feel comfortable around Shinjuro, given his behavior in recent years. Senjuro appeared to be the most content among you, probably because he lived with his father daily and knew him the best. He was also the only one who hadn't faced demons directly, so maybe the new reality didn't hit him as hard as the rest of you. In any case, his relaxed demeanor slowly put you all more at ease.

After some time, perhaps encouraged by the emotions stirred by the memories of his fallen comrades, Shinjuro spoke in a calm voice:

"I must admit... I find it hard to believe that you managed to defeat Kibutsuji Muzan. Nagase, your ancestors hadn't falsely earned their reputation as excellent warriors that Rengoku Genjuro used to boast about in his boring writings. I owe you and Kyojuro an apology and my thanks. You kids did a great job."

Turning on his knees to face both of you, the head of the Rengoku family and former Flame Pillar bowed to the ground before your widened eyes. You had sworn before the gods that you would make this man eat his derogatory words about you and your clan, but over the years, it had lost its significance, especially after your transformation into a demon. Nonetheless, Shinjuro's apologies and congratulations struck a chord within you.

Both you and Kyojuro quickly bowed back. "We were just doing our duty!" your childhood friend hurriedly brushed away, distinctly flustered by his father's behavior.

Shinjuro straightened up slowly and placed his hands on your shoulders for you both to do the same. The gesture was affectionate but somewhat awkward, as the family patriarch had lost the habit of displaying tenderness.

"You can give yourselves more credit. That’s not all I wanted to say, though…" he hesitated, gathering courage. "If you wish to marry each other one day... you have my blessing," he uttered, clearing his throat and gazing to the side, a little embarrassed.

Your mouth opened in surprise at the declaration, and you bowed again, deeper this time. "Thank you, Rengoku-san."

As you straightened, you stole a glance toward Kyojuro, whose eye was shining brighter than before, his usual disciplined façade cracking under the weight of his emotions. He seemed much younger when he showed vulnerability like this. "Thank you, Father," he replied softly, his throat tight.

Shinjuro gazed at him regretfully, as if he was looking back at the harshness and unfairness with which he had treated his sons. Suddenly, he moved closer to Kyojuro and pulled him into a rough and uncontrolled embrace, filled with all the love and remorse he couldn’t express properly with words.

Initially stunned by surprise, Kyojuro froze. It had been about a decade since his father had shown him any attention, let alone affection. Now that he was an adult, a hug wasn't the kind of paternal gesture he thought he desired. But as he was receiving it, he realized how much he had secretly longed for his dad's warmth, who had once been so loving and passionate. He slowly returned the hug, his expression a complex mix of disbelief, hesitation, and boyish joy.

After a few moments of emotionally charged embrace, Shinjuro pulled back to look at both of you.

"I've asked the butterfly girls to send some Kakushi at our Estate to supervise your rehabilitation there, which they've accepted. Shall we head back together?"

To say you were surprised by the proposition was an understatement. Was the Rengoku patriarch inviting you to stay at their house for a while? His sharp eyes lingered on you as he waited for your reply. The two brothers also turned their expectant gazes toward you, their faces beaming with excitement.

An immense wave of happiness washed over you, and you nodded, grinning wildly.

"Hmm, let's go home!"

Taisho secret:

Kyojuro had informed Senjuro about your coma but hadn't extended an invitation for his brother to visit you. As suggested in the conversation, he had also avoided a proper discussion with his father regarding your previous demonic state. At that time, he felt ill-prepared to address the topic, as you were unconscious, and he was adapting to life with his prosthetic limb.

After you woke up, he still didn't give updates to his family, though he couldn't pinpoint the exact reason. Perhaps he wanted to savor some privacy with you after a long period without contact. It's also possible he wanted to give you more time to reflect on the conversation you had and, quite possibly, he feared his father's reaction upon learning the truth about you.

Fortunately, Senjuro stepped in to bridge the gap. He could sense that their father had found a better emotional place, especially after hearing about the defeat of Kibutsuji Muzan. Also, he understand that Kyojuro was not in his best state of mind and doesn't resent him for momentarily shutting himself. (What a golden child <3)

Next chapter: "Home"

[nimuetheseawitch]

🤝 and 🎶 for any of your wips

🎶 Share a song you associate with this fic

Because I'm really pleased I actually chose a line for the title of The problem with starting halfway through #5 (now Hoping that you're happy now), I'm going to talk about the song that shapes the series, Keep Them Close 'Cause They Will Fuck You Too by Tegan and Sara.

I don't know exactly when the idea for this fic series happened because it's been a while now, but I was listening to a lot of Tegan and Sara (a fairly normal state for me since approximately 2007), and this song really gave me hunnihawk pining feelings. I could write for ages about my feelings about this song and how it's shaped the story, but maybe I'll hold that for some sort of commentary way down the road when I feel like I'm done with the series. But this one comes from the lines that specifically address the fic chronologically before this one:

Sitting here tonight, I'm thinking those simple thoughts Hoping that you're happy now, happy with what ya got

It's the first time after the war that Hawkeye is seeing BJ again, and BJ hasn't told him about his and Peg's arrangement, so Hawkeye has boxed up his feelings and is trying to make the most out of his life and be happy for BJ. Due to BJ's complete inability to communicate, Hawkeye is doing his best to be friends and to keep everyone from the 4077 in life as much as he can stand.

🤝 Share a snippet that describes a physical sensation

Uh, so all of my physical sensation bits are definitely porn, so this is going under a cut. From Take me there again (SGA, McShep)

Rodney worried a soft spot in the hollow of his hip, alternating suction and blowing light breaths across it. John's focus narrowed to Rodney's teeth and lips marking him. He didn't notice Rodney's hand sliding back until it brushed against the plug, sending a shiver through his whole body. 

[dreaming-marchling]

🌈 - 🖊 - 🍰 (mine is your Marked-series 😍)

🌈 What inspired you to write [Marked in Trust series]?

I sometimes go through periods where I decide I don't want to post anymore. I just want to write whatever I want to write for just myself and not worry about making it something other people might like. MiT was started in one of those periods. It was the culmination of a lot of things I wanted to explore - the dark underbelly a soulmate world with the thought that not everyone though history can be happy with their person and the aftermath of that, a DEEP deep slow slow slow recovery from trauma, destined family mixed with a soulmate relationship, and daydreams I had been having of Brian's backstory/family coming back into his life. I also took elements of a story that I stopped writing because it started with Brian in a major car accident that I was working on when Paul Walker died in a major car accident and it just felt wrong/morbid to continue. That one included a lot of Brian's family history though so I took some of that and brought it with me to MiT. I got like halfway through MiT and was over my no posting funk and decided if I took out some of the really self-indulgent bits I could make it good enough to post.

🖊 Post a snippet from a current WIP

In the end Brian decided on Delphiniums but he also wanted to ask Mia first. Maybe she had some herb or something she was hoping he would start up. He would be down to take requests.

Brian flipped through the pages one last time, fanning them out with his thumb.

When he hit the front of the book, he saw writing.

He froze. The writing was very block-like. Not how his mother wrote.

🍰 Name one of your fave comfort fics (doesn’t have to be your all time fave)

Judas Kiss by JoeLawson - the family backstory goes way different than what's in my head but the exploration is great. I come back to this one every so often and sink right in.

Thank you for asking! I'm really glad MiT is a comfort fic for you! I'll have a new MiF up in a week or two :)

[lilac-melody]

The funny thing about writing is that goals change over time.

When I first began writing Ikigai, my goal was to write a novel-length fic for aiyuu, which was about 40k words.

However, as I approached the halfway mark, I realized that I was already almost to my goal, so I upped the goal to 60k words. Then it became 70k, and as I approached my final chapters, I thought to myself:

"Hmm. Can I outstretch this to 80k words?"

So my goal became to make Ikigai 80k words, and I managed to surpass my goal, even if not even by half of a thousand. I'm really pleased with how it turned out, even if my focus was all over the place.

The fic went from "Can I make a novel?" to "I'm making a whole adult fiction length book!".

It was a lot of effort, and lots of times I just wanted to stop writing because I was so tired, but I'm happy I pushed through with everyone's support!! 💜

So thank you all who supported me and this fic of mine throughout the chapters!

[littlelioncub43]

He Sees You When You’re Sleeping (And He Knows When You’re Awake)

Summary: Your next door neighbor, Robert, doesn’t celebrate Christmas, but there was one thing that was on his wishlist—you. 

Pairing: Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x Female! Reader, neighbor AU!

Warnings: 18+ ONLY(minors DNI, please, I mean it), breaking and entering, non con themes but nothing non con happens, mentions of murder, stalking, Robert being a peeping Tom, smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, pussy spanking, d/s dynamic, degradation, bondage, knife kink, Daddy kink, obsessive behavior, possessive sex, creampie, masturbation (m), claiming kink, filth. Just. filth. This has dark themes. You are in control of your media consumption. I love you.

Word Count: 5k and some change.

A/N: This is my submission for Happy Hoe-lidays Writing Challenge! I absolutely love Mr. Freezy. Much more than I should. But, writing this was so much fun! I have so many more Freezy fics planned out for the coming year, so I hope you stick around to read them when I eventually write them. Thank you all so much for reading and reblogging! I love hearing back from you guys! 

Dividers made by the lovely @firefly-graphics

The Christmas lights that hung around the neighborhood twinkled with a sort of artificial jolliness that made Robert scowl. It didn’t take much to make him sneer, but that addition of Christmas lights, snowmen, reindeer, and other bullshit lawn decorations were the cherry on top of the shit-show of the season. Parking his truck in the garage, he tossed his large duffle bag to his work table with a sigh. There were far too many knots in his back, bruises littered his sides from the fight that the mark put up, he was hungry and he was 90% sure that there was nothing to eat in his fridge. It was another shitty Christmas Eve. With another annoyed sigh, he stomps through his house to the shower; he needed to get the dried blood out from under his nails or he was going to go bat shit crazy.

The hot shower definitely helped some of his aches, his muscles no longer whining with fatigue. He was halfway relaxed when the doorbell rang. The chirpy ding-dong of the bell brought a wave of rage over him. Dressing in a pair of comfortable jeans and a random t shirt, he barreled for the door. “I swear to fucking God, if it’s Chuck, I’m gonna kill the fat bastard,” he snarled to himself.

Whipping the door open, with his long hair still damp and his lips poised to tell Chuck to fuck off and leave him alone, he recoiled in surprise. You stood on his porch with a small smile, the smile died when you saw the rage on his face, concern took over your beautiful features.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve come at a bad time,” you said smoothly, your voice was always so calm, “I saw you come in and thought you might be hungry.” In your hands you held a medium size container. Even through the lid, Robert could smell the enticing aroma of the hot meal. “It’s that chicken you liked so much.”

Robert’s face softened the moment he saw you, he couldn’t help it, especially when you bring him food. You offered him the container, which he takes with a smirk. His eyes raking over your figure as he leans against the door frame. “Thank you, Princess, just what I needed.”

The bashful smile you give him ignites a deep sense of pride within him, he always felt that way around you; he wanted to devour you completely, to consume every part of you until you were a part of him and he a part of you. You look up at his hulking frame through your lashes, loving how he looks at you, his eyes smoldering with an enchanting darkness. You always thought he had such interesting eyes; powerful pools of blue with insidious sparks that stayed hidden behind his glasses. You thought he was beautiful. Martha says he scares her shitless, but you didn’t care, as long as she stayed clear of Robert. Everyone in the neighborhood knew that he was your Bobby, just like they knew that you were his Princess.

“It’s no problem,” you assure him, “I’ll get going, don’t wanna bother you anymore than I already have,” before Robert could stop you, you were turning to head back to your house next-door. Before you descended the steps of his porch, you turned back to him with a flirty smile, “Merry Christmas, Bobby.”

He gives you a wink, feeling his jeans tighten at the sultry tone you use, the smirk staying on his face as he watches you enter you home. He shuts the door and makes for the kitchen, his half hard cock can wait, his empty stomach, on the other hand, cannot. Dinner was delicious as always, he had a weakness for your cooking. The only thing he misses about that cunt of an ex-wife of his was the home cooking. You’d given him enough to have leftovers for tomorrow, always so considerate. He checked the clock as he drank the rest of his beer. It was almost time.

Walking through the house, he slowly shut off the lights one by one. Each room dimmed perfectly to make you think he was asleep. Once he reached his bedroom, he quietly settled into the armchair in front of his window. He had the perfect view of your room from here, the houses were close enough that he didn’t need binoculars to see you, and you apparently hated the concept of curtains, leaving the view into your bedroom unobstructed.

Robert couldn’t help but lick his lips as he waited in the dark for you to start getting ready for bed. He knew your routine by heart at this point: you showered, put on lotion, combed your hair, put on clothes, then went to bed. Sometimes, if he was lucky enough, you’d give him a little show. You’d pull out that little toy from the bottom drawer of your nightstand and show him how cute you look when you cum.

When your bathroom door opens, Robert practically groans with excitement, the newest pair of panties he swiped from your hamper held tightly in his fist. He unzips his fly as you move around the room, dressed only in a fluffy towel, his dick already throbbing with need. Robert wraps the silky panties around his base, sighing when the cool fabric rested against his heated skin. You begin to apply your lotion, the last time he was in your room he couldn’t help but smell the bottle, and the cocoa butter scent quickly became one of his favorites. Your hands glide over your smooth skin slowly, Robert’s hand around his cock matches your pace, until you drop the towel to the floor. It was going to be a merry Christmas, indeed.

Humming to yourself, you shut off the shower and wrapped yourself in your favorite towel. Swinging the bathroom door open, you check the time and smile to yourself; he should be watching you right about now. You’d noticed him a little over 7 months ago; those adorable glasses of his caught the reflection of the nearby streetlight. Ever since then, you both had a routine: you’d eat your dinner around 9, do a last minute sweep through of the house, watch the lights in Bobby’s house shut off one by one at 9:15, take a shower, and by 9:30 he was sat in his room to watch you get ready for bed by 10.

Of course, now knowing that you had an audience, you couldn’t resist the opportunity to tease him. Standing to put your lotion on, sometimes wearing your expensive silk robe while you dance around your room (swaying your hips a little more than usual)—but today. Oh, today, you pulled out the big guns. It was Christmas after all.

You let the towel fall from around your middle, revealing your body in all its naked glory. You had to stifle a pleased smirk at the thought of what Bobby might be thinking of your little gift. Sighing, you continue with your routine, massaging your lotion into your skin with a little more sensuality than normal. A devious smirk takes over your features as you pretend to drop your comb. Turing your back to the window, you bend at the waist, giving Bobby a perfect view of your glistening pussy. You stay bent for a moment before popping back up and finishing your routine. Before you know it, you were dressed in your silkiest pajama set and switching out the light.

“Goodnight, Bobby,” you talk to his window, “hope you enjoyed the show.”

You crawl into bed, and drift off into a comfortable sleep.

Robert’s hand moved in quick, short motions over his shaft, beads of precum dribbling from his aching tip, his balls heavy with need. As you methodically apply your lotion, Robert can’t help but growl, his hand tightens around his cock in his frustration. He feels the high he so desperately wants teasing him at the base of his spine, his thick legs twitching as he thrusts into his hand. The delicious softness of the panties offer him some relief, but his mind wanders to how soft your skin must be, and how much softer that little slice of heaven between your thighs must be. He sees the comb drop and immediately speeds his hand up.

“Oh fuck! Pick it up, pick it up, pick it up, c’mon bend over for me, Princess, bend over for Daddy,” he mumbles to himself, his gaze locked on the silky skin of your back, willing you to bend over.

“Fucking hell!” He curses loudly when you do give him what he wants, your folds shine in the soft lamp light, your thighs look plush, and, God, your ass—he would murder the whole block just to bite it. The glorious view only last a few seconds, far too short if Robert was being honest.  You get dressed rather quickly, much to his dismay. When you go to turn the light out, he can see your lips moving, your eyes on his window. A deep growl rumbled in his chest. You knew.

He didn’t like that.

He tucked himself back into his jeans, his fingers petting the gusset of your underwear absentmindedly as he glared at your now dark window. You knew he was watching. How long had you known? You obviously didn’t mind him watching or else you would have called the police. You’d been letting him watch you undress for weeks or months, and you never made a move— and that’s what pisses him off so much. How long could he have been fucking you? How long could he have been making you cum on his cock rather than that pathetic toy you have? How long have you been denying him what he deserves?

Another snarl, he stands up and stomps off to the garage, your panties tucked into his back pocket like they always are. His duffle bag was already packed, he had everything he needed right there waiting for him. Leaning against his work bench, he lit a cigarette to calm him down. If he was gonna do this, he didn’t want to be sloppy about it. He looked at the clock, it was 10:27.

“11 o’clock,” he muttered to himself with a nod. He was gonna wait until 11. You’d be asleep, you wouldn’t wake up, you were a rather heavy sleeper and he found that out the hard way.

Another cigarette and a glass of water later, Robert was slipping on his boots. He didn’t bother putting on a jacket, it was a short walk from his house to yours. He hummed a Christmas song he heard on the radio as he double checked his duffle, making sure that everything he needed was there. With a satisfied smile, he zipped the bag and slung it over his shoulder. It was time.

Your lock was no match for him, it never was. A handful of turns with his lock picking kit and he was in— you really should install a better deadbolt. He shut the door silently behind him, locking it, too, for good measure. The house was dark and silent, the subtle whirring of the overhead fan and a gentle hum of your heater was all that stirred in the house. He tip toed his way to the stairs, he knew which floorboards and stairs creaked by heart, and with expert steps, avoided each one perfectly.

Your bedroom door was left open, like always. He saw the outline of your sleeping form underneath your duvet cover, your back towards him as you dreamt. Robert felt his heart pound in his chest, the adrenalin kept his senses sharp, any small noise or movement you made had him stopping in his tracks and holding his breath. You rolled on to your back with a sleepy sigh, your face serene and calm in the glowing lights from outside. You were absolutely beautiful, Robert was sure that he’d never seen a more beautiful woman in his life. He wasn’t sure how long he stood there staring at you, but the small noise you made was enough to break him out of his trance. He wasn’t here to just look at you. Setting the duffle bag on the floor next to your bed, he opened it quietly and got to work.

You sighed as consciousness began to creep back into you. You moved to rub your eyes but your hands didn’t budge. With a confused look, you tried again, tugging harder on the seemingly invisible force that held your arms down. Something cold and sharp pressed against the curve of your throat to keep you from fighting. You shivered when you noticed the cold air that enveloped you. Your duvet pushed to the foot of your bed without a thought, then you felt something moving on top of you. As your eyes adjusted to the darkness around you, you saw the outline of a figure looming over you. You would have been frightened if you hadn’t recognized his long hair. You smiled sleepily up at him.

“Hi, Bobby,” you rasped, and blinked your eyes a few more times to see him clearly. There he was, straddled on top of you, his face set in a cold yet lustful expression. Your greeting caught him off guard, his eyes widening in shock when you smiled at him and relaxed further into your bed. He was ready for you to scream, to kick, to beg for mercy and swear that you wouldn’t tell a soul about this; he wasn’t ready for this. When he swallowed thickly but said nothing, you chuckled lowly, stretching a little underneath him, “whatcha doin’?”

Your devious little smirk brought back his voice, you were teasing him again.

“Had to pay you a little visit for that stunt you pulled earlier,” he trailed the knife along the column of your throat, taking note of how you shivered when it touched your heated skin, “just couldn’t stay away any longer.”

“Mmm, I was wondering how long it’d take before you did,” you chuckled again, the anger from earlier bubbling up again in Robert’s chest.

“How long?” His voice was hard. You knew what he meant.

“Since May.”

A low growl rumbled in his throat. He didn’t like that at all.

“Seven months? You’ve been keeping me from your sweet little cunt for seven months?” He spat, the bulge at the front of his jeans rut into your stomach as he leans over you, one hand braced by your head. When you said nothing and instead looked up at him through your lashes, it was his turn to chuckle lowly under his breath. “Oh, Princess, I’m gonna have to punish you for that.”

“O-Ok,” you nodded, your panties were soaked the moment you felt him on top of you. Robert groaned under his breath at your compliance, you were already being such a good girl. You twisted against the ropes holding your hands above your head. “Bobby, untie me, wanna touch you,” you asked softly. You could see him thinking it over, “Please? I’ve been extra good this year.”

“Oh, have you, Princess?” He asks skeptically, his knife trailing down the front of the cream silk tank top, he loved how you shivered with excitement when he teased the hem of your top with the blade. His hips moving gently rocking into you to make you feel how hard he is. You hum with a nod, biting your lip as he moulds his body to yours. “You think that teasing me like that makes you a good girl?”

The harsh edge to his voice has another wave of slick staining your panties and a small moan slipping past your lips. You see his pleased smirk clearly in the dark. You lick your bottom lip and regain your senses. “No, it doesn’t… but haven’t I been so good for you this year? Made you dinner, helped you with your laundry, kept those pesky neighbors of ours away from you,” you leaned up a little, your eyes on his pulls him down closer to you, your noses barely touching, “haven’t let anyone touch me all year, saved myself all for you—doesn’t that make me a good girl, Bobby?”

He snarls and smashes his lips to yours, the kiss is all tongue and teeth, he overpowers you easily. You mewl into his mouth, kissing him back as best you can as he devours you, the little noises you make go straight to his cock. Your lungs burn from the lack of oxygen but you absolutely love it, his saliva mixes with yours as his tongue explores your mouth in greedy swipes. When he pulls back to gasp for air, you can’t help but whine and chase his lips, but the blade of the knife forces you to stay down.

“You’re gonna take your punishment like the good girl you are, then maybe I’ll let you go,” he bites out, his eyes crazed with power. He loved the way you nodded and took what he gave you, he knew you were different from other women already. They hated when he got too rough or slapped them around a bit in bed, but you—oh, he knows you can take it. If not, then… oh, well. He gives you a twisted smile, the sharp blade of his knife suddenly ripping down the front of your tank top. You gasp as he cuts the top to shreds, pushing the offensive fabric out of the way of your bare chest. You wish you could say that your nipples were hard because of the cold, but you couldn’t help yourself; not when the man you’ve been lusting for for over a year was literally tearing your clothes off.

The moment your chest is exposed to him, Robert wastes no time wrapping his mouth around as much of your breast as he could. The knife clatters to the floor as he tosses it behind him with a groan, his hand now free to pinch the other side. You keen for him, and your moans are everything he’s ever dreamed about; his tongue is just as unforgiving on your chest as it was in your mouth, it moves in rough, passionate swipes around your nipple. His hand pinches your bud, massaging the supple flesh eagerly. Your body writhes underneath him as you moan, your head tips back on to the pillows as he switches between your tits, his saliva coating his chin and the heated skin of your chest. “Oh, my God, Bobby, yes!”

He smirks proudly, his ego inflating with each praise you sing for him. A rough calloused hand dips down to the apex of your thighs to pet the damp spot on your shorts. When his digits feel the wetness there, he can’t help but moan happily. You were drenched.

“Aw, Princess, you’re soaked,” he taunted, “such a needy fucking cunt, just beggin’ for me to play with her, ain’t she?” He chuckled darkly when you nodded and thrust into his hand. His eyes stayed glued to yours, his gaze darkening with lust, his pupils blown wide. “How many months, Princess?”

“Seven…” You whisper, your chest heaving with excitement.

“Seven,” he confirmed and pulled your shorts and panties down in one harsh movement, the cool air hitting your core made you shiver once more. He placed his jean clad thigh between yours, his hand pushing your thigh out to expose you to him, he squeezes the flesh there, silently telling you to keep it open for him. Once he was in position, he gripped your jaw to make you meet his eyes again. “Seven.”

Suddenly, his hand came cracking down on your exposed pussy. You wailed at the shocks of pain that shot through you, they quickly fizzled into pleasure as he pet your folds to calm the sting briefly before he slapped your pussy again with a growl. The sting was excruciating but exquisite at the same time, you were a mess beneath him, babbling his name and curses as he spanked you seven times. Robert’s palm was coated in a layer of your juices, your puffy little folds were red from his slaps, a pool of your arousal was gathering beneath you on the bed. He couldn’t stand to wait anymore.

“Such a good girl, took it like I knew you would, knew you’d fucking love it, God, you’re such a dirty little slut,” he mumbled quickly as he tore his shirt over his head, his eyes locked on your form; hands above your head, leaving you helpless and vulnerable, your face blissed out, your legs spread and waiting for him— he wanted to remember this moment forever.

“Bobbyyyy,” you whined for him, writhing and pulling at the ropes again, your bottom lip jutting out. He smirked and undid his belt and fly as quickly as he possibly could with fumbling hands.

“I said maybe, Princess, never said I’d untie you,” he says gruffly and pushes his pants and boxers off to the floor.

You catch a glimpse of his cock in all its uncut glory. He’s a monster; thick and long. There was no way that you wouldn’t feel him for days after, even if he was gentle with you. But knowing Bobby, he wasn’t going to be gentle. It had you drooling with need, you like your lips without a second thought. His dark laugh pulls your eyes back to his face as he wraps a large hand around his base to stroke himself. “I’ll fuck that sweet mouth of yours after, been dreaming of fucking your little pussy until you’re crying and begging me to stop…”

“Mmm but you won’t stop, will you, Bobby?” You grin seductively up at him, his cock flexing at your words.

“Not a fucking chance,” he growls and speeds his hand up. He settles between your legs, your thighs spread so wide that the stretch almost hurts. You welcome it, you want it to hurt, you want to remember everything he gave you.

He rubs his length through your soft folds, coating himself in your slick. Your head lifts from the pillows to watch him rub against you, you mewl when his tip catches at your entrance. A strong hand roughly grabs your jaw again, forcing you too look up into his icy blue eyes, his stare cold, and for a moment you want to giggle. This is why they call him Mr. Freezy.

“Fucking look at me, I want to see your face when I split you open,” he grits through his teeth. You nod, licking your lips before he snaps his hips forwards. You let out a shriek, your eyes rolling back in your head, as you arch your back to cling to him. God, you’d kill to have your hands untied.

Robert waits a moment, moaning with you and relishing the feeling of your hot snatch welcoming him home. He feels that anger creeping back, he can’t believe you denied him heaven for so long. He smashes his lips against yours again then sets a brutal pace, every fiber in his being telling him to pound you into the mattress until you’re sobbing. So that’s what he does.

“Seven months, seven fucking months, Princess,” he pants out in a gravelly voice, his hands paw at your flesh, roaming from place to place, pinching and groping to his heart’s content, “coulda been fucking you silly all this time, instead of watching you, God, I had to watch you touch yourself, touch what’s mine, what should have been mine the moment I fucking saw you!”

He was pounding into you violently now, the whole bed frame shaking and slamming into the walls in time with his thrusts. With your hands bound above your head, you can do nothing but take it, and you love it. Your mind shutting down as he continues his vicious pace, all you can do it moan for him. He growls when he feels your pussy begin to flutter around him, and in one fluid motion, he brings his hands to your thighs and spreads you even further, his hips driving forward to push even deeper into you.

“O-Oh, fuck! Daddy!” You scream in a wavering voice, your eyes widening in shock; no one has ever been that deep before, he was touching places you never knew you had.

The moment the title rolled off your tongue, Bobby was a goner. There was no way in hell he was ever going to let you go now. Not when you’re so perfect. Not a chance. He lets out his own shaky moan before curling over you, his head tucking into the crook of your neck. Grunt after grunt falls from his lips, your melodic moans fill his ear, he could hear you gasping for breath after each thrust he gives you, his tip rubbing that special spot inside of you that had you nearly sobbing.

“Please, Daddy, please!” You beg, your fists shaking with need, your head leaning against his in a bid to hold him to you with your hands bound. One huge hand leaves your aching thighs to find you clit. Once he felt that little swollen button, he drew circles nearly as rough as his thrusts. He couldn’t help but growl when you velvety snatch clamped down even tighter like a wet fucking fist around him. He brought his lips to your ear to whisper to you.

“Pussy doesn’t want me to leave, does she? Just wants me to stay inside forever, wants me to fucking fill her up, cum so deep inside her that you can never get rid of me… God, you’re so fucking good, Princess, so fucking good, m’gonna give you what you need, and you’re gonna fucking take it, do you hear me?”  He tells you, his own high creeping up on him, his balls full and heavy.

You nod and whimper, “yes, Bobby! I’ll take it, please gimme it, Daddy, want it, want it bad!”

“Jesus fucking Christ, take it, you greedy bitch,” he whispers breathlessly, his own mind beginning to get lost in the never ending waves of pleasure. His hand strumming your clit in sloppy patterns, his excitement getting to him. The pit in the base of your tummy pulls tighter and tighter until you can’t take it anymore, you shatter completely. Your back arches dramatically as you cum, your body thrashing against the rope, you see star erupt behind your shut eyes, your thighs shake and tremble around his waist.

The moment you cum, Robert lifts his head to watch you fall over the edge. If he thought you were beautiful before, then you were ethereal when you came on his cock. Watching you fall apart proved to be too much for him to handle, he follows you over the edge nearly immediately. His back arching as well, giving you the perfect view of his face, his skin was dewey with sweat, his glasses had been lost at some point, his eyes crossed ever so slightly before shutting completely, his jaw hung open slack as he let out a long, wavering moan. His hands claw at your skin to pull you closer, closer, closer, he loved how your supple body bent to his will, your hips grind against his to milk your highs for all their worth.

The waves of pleasure slowly but surely began to subside, exhaustion took over Robert. His arms gave out and he opted to rest on top of you, his large shoulders heaving to catch his breath. You loved feeling him on top of you, your chests rising and falling in sync as you bask in the afterglow. His rough hands slide over the scratches and claw marks he left behind slowly, massaging the welts that wanted to form for a brief moment before lifting his head up. He wastes no time again in smashing his lips to yours, he’s still forceful but he moves much slower, tiredness taking hold. The kisses are sloppy and spit-filled, just how you like it. The air was once again stolen from your lungs as he kissed you; but he was more than just kissing you, he was owning you, reaffirming to both of you that you belong to him now.

“Bobby, please,” you mumbled against his lips, it was a soft plea that he listened to. Without moving his lips, he untied your hands from the bed post. A soft sigh fluttered against your skin when you were finally able to cradle his face, pulling him even deeper into the kisses if possible. You push a hand through his hair, your nails gently scraping his scalp. Robert can’t help but wonder what those nails would feel like leaving gouges on his back, the thought had his cock twitching, still rock hard inside of you. A small moan of surprise broke your lips from his when he started to rock into you again. You look up at him with doe eyes, shocked to feel him pulsing with need inside your abused cunt. He couldn’t help but smirk and chuckle.

“Oh, Princess, I’m nowhere near done with you just yet,” he growled proudly and slammed into your g spot once more, your nails digging into the meaty curve of his shoulder, his pace slower but still hard. Looking over his shoulder to check the clock, he sees it’s a little past 1:00. With a grin, he turns back to you. “Well, would you look at that. It’s Christmas,” he mouths at the sensitive skin below your ear, sucking deep marks into your skin—another way of claiming you, “the season of giving,” he moans when you move your hips in time with his, “let’s see how many more you can give me before the sun comes up.”

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