#having humans reach out to him despite all of it

[kiame-sama]

Humans Are Extinct (Yandere!TWST x Fem!Reader) Monster AU pt 26

(Rollo is part of a subsection of Fire Nymphs known as Inferno Fire Nymphs. Most Fire Nymphs cannot burn themselves out as a result of their own fire, but typically have a more muted flame core as a result. Inferno Fire Nymphs can burn themselves out with extreme emotion which can lead to the Nymph passing away suddenly, but they are much stronger as a result. Rollo has a particular hatred for his flames to the point he suppresses his own core which makes his flesh appear ashen instead of a warm pink-red which is much more common for most Fire Nymphs.)

Warnings; Yandere, yandere behavior, obsessive about behavior, multiple yanderes take an increased interest, Ovulation, platonic yanderes vs romantic yanderes, explaining Human things to non-Human creatures, hellcat, vampire bat, Raiju, Cervitaur, dragon, harpies, Sphinx, Selkie,

~~~~~~~~

You awoke later in the morning than usual, Grim curled up and tucked safely in your arms as you tried to somewhat shake the cobwebs of sleep. Despite the rather cathartic release of emotions and the more than supportive cuddling from everyone, you found yourself still weighed down from the events the day prior. Naturally, you figured you would struggle with what happened and what seemed to be constantly happening around you because of what you couldn't control.

Talking with the kindly Human Ghost had been eye opening, but the realization that you were both the source of the problem and the solution weighed heavily on your mind. It explained so much of the varying behaviors exhibited towards you and yet left you feeling more hopeless than you had been before. If they were truly addicted to you, there was no way these monsters would let you go without a fight. You shuddered at the thought of an Overblotted Malleus.

Said Dragon was laying by your side with his wings wrapped around you and his tail wound around one of your legs. He had stubbornly remained by your side and ensured you ate the food Sam had kindly cooked up for you despite your disinterest. The rest of the Hoard and even most of those you knew among the student body had been keen to comfort you following you emotional breakdown the day prior. From Leona, to Vil, to Lilia, even Jack, all had tried to soothe you as the full gravity of the situation crashed down on you.

Malleus had been sleeping with his nose buried in the crook of your neck, his body laying behind yours. From what you knew already of the Dragon, he was not going to be keen to release you any time soon due to what had happened. You hoped that calling upon him in your time of need actually helped calm him despite what had happened to lead up to calling him.

It was while you were thinking that another thought angled for your attention; who was going to guard you this week?

You doubted the Crow remembered to do another raffle so it was likely going to be up to you again. That also meant it was likely that every prospective guard would be present. Despite your willingness to be openly emotional following your attempted kidnapping, you really didn't look forward to the idea of having to have any kind of further emotional outbursts in front of such a large group. At least, not if you could help it.

Laying with his face pressed into your stomach was Lilia, his wings resting over your hips and legs. You had allowed the Bat to snuggle your stomach after further emphasizing you didn't see stomachs as inherently sexual like they believed and he jumped at the opportunity. The Bat's ears even wiggled slightly as he had made himself comfortable against your warm stomach and seemed almost keen to cuddle your tired form.

You vaguely wondered if it was past breakfast time when your phone buzzed angrily nearby. Luckily, it was well within reach and you didn't have to disturb any of your nestmates to grab it.

"Hello?"

"(Y/n), my darling little chick, where are you?"

"... Sleeping in my dorm?"

"We need to decide on your next guards! I believe I sent a message to Mr. Draconia late last evening about today's meeting, but I have gotten no response."

"... Because we are sleeping."

"Everyone except for Diasomnia and yourself are already present."

"So, I'm going to guess there is no time for breakfast?"

"... It's almost midday."

You glanced at the clock on your phone and sure enough, most of the morning had already gone by. Odds are the events of yesterday really took your energy out of you and as a result you slept through the morning. Of course, the others in the Hoard did the same as they were either nocturnal Fae or lived with Nocturnal Fae species, so sleeping during the day was more natural to them anyway.

"I guess I can wake them up and we can all get there soon. I won't promise anyone is going to be in a good mood though."

"See you soon, my sweet and adorable-"

You hung up before Crowley could continue to coo over you. Honestly, you had half a mind to just go back to sleep and let them figure things out themselves. The heavy sigh you huffed out was enough to rouse Lilia from his sleep, the Bat yawning with his pink tongue stretching out.

"Good morning."

Lilia hummed, sounding almost like he was purring as he smiled at you affectionately. You returned the lazy smile and moved your hand to pet the Bat gently. He was quick to lean into your touch and the little fur on his wings fluffed up with his joy, his fuzzy wings fluttering slightly.

"It's almost midday. Headmage Crowley called to see about my next round of guards, apparently he told Tsuno about it last night, but I've never seen Tsuno use a cellphone."

"Malleus often breaks most electronics, especially delicate things like phones."

The sound of his name began to rouse the Dragon from his slumber, his wings and tail tightening their hold ever so slightly before he opened his eyes. A low hum escaped the beast as he let out a gentle purring noise and nuzzled your shoulder once more. He didn't seem keen to wake or really rouse beyond the purring hum, so you decided to try and wake the Dragon.

"We gotta get up, Tsuno."

There was a long pause as Malleus moved his mouth, the faint feel of two light touches from between his lips made you frown in confusion. You would assume whatever it was was his tongue- it was forked, after all- but your understanding was that was how reptiles "smelled" things, as he had done it before while you cooked. What confused you was why he was doing it to your shoulder.

"I don't think so."

"... We have to go see who my next guards are."

"No."

"But I-"

"No, (Y/n). We are not going."

You were genuinely stunned at the sudden and almost curt words of the Dragon who was normally agreeable and indulgent of you. It seemed like he was almost angry, as if you had asked him to do something detestable and infuriating. None of them had ever really flat out refused you before, Crowley being the only one to come close when he let you go mushrooming with Jade.

Lilia also seemed thrown off for a moment, his brows furrowed in confusion at the Dragon. You noticed the way his tongue flashed across his pink heart-shaped nose and he took several sniffs, all while watching the Dragon closely. It took a moment of sniffing before his eyes suddenly widened and flashed down to stare at you.

"... Lilia?"

He held his fingers to his lips, non-verbally indicating he wasn't going to speak. Malleus' eyes must have still been closed as the Bat gestured to your phone, holding out his hand for it. You decided it was in your best interest to follow Lilia's lead and handed him your unlocked phone.

The Bat kept an eye on the Dragon that had settled back down, tapping away quietly at your phone. When he finished, he handed your phone back to you and continued to stare at Malleus.

Displayed on the screen was a text that had not been sent to Lilia's phone and you quickly tried to read over it. You barely saw the first few words before Lilia pressed the button on the side and darkened the screen.

Malleus was stirring behind you and let out a deep almost happy hum.

The difference between how worried Lilia had become versus Malleus' almost pleasant behavior was confusing and stressing you. Apparently your heart gave away your increased panic as Malleus went deathly still behind you, a gentle growl escaping him. His low almost gravely voice hummed against your shoulder as the Dragon spoke softly to you.

"What's wrong, (Y/n)?"

"Why won't you let me get up?"

"We can get up, but you will not be going to any of those other dorms. You are staying here, safe and secure."

"Mal-"

"Tsuno."

His voice was almost a warning despite the still relaxed way he held your figure.

"I prefer you call me Tsuno. I am quite partial to the name you have gifted to me. It means a lot to me."

"Okay. Unless you tell me otherwise, I'll call you Tsuno."

"Good. I'm sure you are hungry, rouse little Grim and we can sort out something to eat."

Malleus relaxed considerably and his tail slowly unwound from your leg, raising his wing to let you get up. He seemed to be acting a bit more pushy and you wondered what it was that had set Malleus off, but he didn't seem particularly angry about anything other than any suggestion of leaving. What was it Lilia had smelled that had caused such a change in his behavior?

You gently pet Grim and he lifted his head with a squeak. The little cat beast smiled up at you and you were happy to see he seemed to be recovered from Erikír's magic. He stretched and pointed his little paws as Lilia roused Silver and Sebek, both of the retainers coming around to consciousness quickly.

Silver yawned but paused midway through rather suddenly, his nostrils flaring slightly as he turned his head to you curiously. While Silver looked to Lilia for guidance, Sebek was quick to shake out his fur. The spiky thin scales were sticking up and giving him an electrified look like he had too much of a static charge.

"Looks like we have to get you brushed again, Sebek."

You smiled at the Raiju as he shook off the sleep, taking a deep breath while stretching before he too paused. Four of five was far too many, and it tipped you off that something was amiss. As you gathered clothes and ducked into the bathroom to change, you finally got the chance to look at what Lilia had said.

'Your scent tells me you will be at peak fertility soon, I don't remember if Humans have a heat like other species. The others will know by your scent and Malleus already knows it most acutely. It is in your best interest to contact the teachers as guards for the week and try to keep from setting off Malleus' hoarding or mating instincts until they arrive.'

You felt your mouth go dry as you read over the words, quickly following Lilia's advice and contacting the staff members and Crowley. Doing quick mental math, you vaguely realized you were going to be ovulating if you weren't already and that was likely what these monsters could smell on you. The message you sent to the professors and Crowley had the vaguest of explanations as to what was happening and why, just enough to convince them of the severity of the matter.

All you hoped was that these beasts would have enough self control to keep themselves from jumping you.

~•§•~

The many dorm members seemed almost bored as they had been waiting for what felt like far too long. Surely (Y/n) and those Diasomnia guards wouldn't take this long to reach them? Vil was first to voice his complaints, as he would rather be performing other tasks and befriending the lovely little Human instead of sitting around waiting for them.

"Headmage, when will (Y/n) be arriving? It has already been-"

"She won't be. None of the dorms will be guarding her this week, the staff will be doing so instead."

This caused a murmur to sweep through the students present, many exchanging worried glances. The Housewardens and Vice-Housewardens had been present for the rather deserved emotional breakdown, so they worried something else had happened. None would enjoy letting the Human be hurt or having to withdraw from them.

"Why?"

"Mr. Schoenheit, this is as matter only for the professors and I to deal with-"

"This is a matter of (Y/n), and as her rotating guards, we deserve the right to know what has happened and what changed!"

Vil's tone was almost frantic, which unsettled many sitting there as they knew Vil to be much more composed than this. His increased stress was infectious and it was clear everyone else was becoming unsettled as well. Crowley didn't want to tell any of these ruffians a single thing about the situation at hand, but he had to in order to keep the peace.

"(Y/n) is in the peak fertility part of her monthly cycle, and apparently Mr. Draconia is going to have to be gently separated from her for her own safety."

There was a moment of contemplative silence before it seemed like all hell broke loose. From objections shouted across the room, to several standing with weapons in hand, it was clear there was outcry from all the students present. The outcry wasn't all focused on Malleus being near the Human, but some was also about keeping them away from the Human during this cycle.

No one was happy.

"Enough! I will consider allowing all of you to aid in gently convincing Mr. Draconia to keep his distance but I will not jeopardize (Y/n)'s safety in this matter! You all are young adults attending this school for an education, not a free chance to try and mate my little chick, act like it!"

Silence fell quickly as it was unusual for Crowley to ever show any level of anger beyond parental annoyance with any student. This was a firm command and even firmer mandate that none of them could ignore or oppose. There was a reason Crowley was the Headmage of Night Raven College and sometimes it was all too easy to forget.

"Mr. Shroud!"

"Eep!"

"If dear (Y/n) is going into the peak of her own cycle, she cannot attend classes with others until it has passed, which she assures me will not take long. She will need one of your tablets to virtual attend."

"I was gonna give her a tablet later for the holidays, but I guess it makes sense to do it now..."

"Good! Now, I will only allow a few of you to come with me for this, so which of you will be joining me in this endeavor?"

~•§•~

You moved around the kitchen, making a kind of brunch for your group. Vaguely, you wondered how long it would take the professors to reach you and how they planned to remove Malleus. It at least seemed Lilia was more on your side as he had warned you instead of leaving you in the dark.

Truth be told, you didn't know exactly how to avoid upsetting Malleus or triggering any of his instincts as he was hovering almost obsessively around you. From standing behind you to laying his chin on your shoulder, it seemed like a kind of haze had overcome the Dragon and he was quite keen to spend time around you. He had yet to show any particular violence or aggression, but you hadn't tried to leave yet nor had any outside 'threats' come to disrupt his protective behavior.

Sebek and Silver both seemed to take an equally great interest in you but gave the Dragon room to cuddle and nuzzle you as he pleased. Lilia was the only one who seemed unaffected by his own instincts but he didn't try to stop Malleus in his affectionate cuddling of your body even though the Dragon was impeding your ability to cook.

"Tsuno."

"Hm."

"Tsuno, I need to move to cook."

"Then move."

"I can't when you are holding me like a stuffed animal."

He hummed and nuzzled your neck again, his arms wrapped around you securely. It was obvious Malleus wasn't really listening to what you were saying.

"Hm."

"Tsuno, let go!"

"No."

"For the love of- Tsuno, I need to eat to survive. Do you want me dying?"

"No."

"Then let me cook!"

Malleus was visibly pouting and you had half a mind to bite him when a noise at the entrance of the kitchen drew your attention. Similarly, it drew Malleus' attention as well though he snarled deeply towards the door like anyone outside of the Hoard was somehow not permitted near you. It was clear the Dragon was not pleased with anyone visiting as he growled angrily towards the interlopers.

To your surprise, it was professor Divus and professor Trein standing there. Neither looked overly pleased as they stared at Malleus with equally angry expressions. Sebek stood to try and intervene or stop the teachers, but one quick glare from Divus made him back down with his ears folded flat against his skull.

"You four need to get out. Now."

Malleus clearly didn't like the idea as he began to snarl a deep and percussive sound in his throat. His tone was flat and he seemed less than intimidated despite Malleus being far stronger than both professors combined. It was during this stare-down that more footsteps alerted you to the presence of others arriving.

"Mr. Draconia," Crowley started as he rounded the corner with a few students at his heels, frowning at Malleus, "the staff will be taking over guarding (Y/n) this week. There will be no taking advantage of her state by anyone."

"I can guard my own Hoard."

"Can you guard her from yourself?"

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Can you keep yourself from trying to mate her while she is this fertile?"

"..."

"My point exactly! Now, she will be safe and protected with us, but you will have to leave, especially if you know you can't stop yourself."

"..."

There was a certain anger burning in Malleus' eyes that you hadn't seen before, and it was clear he was becoming rather upset as his wings rose up. You decided it was a good time to duck out of his arms, the Dragon letting out a loud snorting growl in complaint as he tried to catch you in his embrace once more. Thankfully, Divus and Trein were acutely aware of your escape from the Dragon and used their magic to move you behind them protectively.

"You dare take my Hoard-?"

"Stop it!"

The much harsher tone you had taken made everyone present flinch, looking at you in surprise as you stood up against the Dragon with a deep frown. Even Malleus seemed taken aback from your less than pleasant attitude towards him as he stared in confusion and discontent.

"That is enough! I don't know what happened that makes you think I need a mate, let alone want one when I am still barely surviving in this world as is, but you need to knock it off. I am not a pet! I am not a hunk of meat to fight over! If all you see me as is some fuck-toy then I don't think I want to be part of your Hoard."

Your words hung heavily in the air and you almost regretted them the moment they fell from your lips as Malleus' expression changed over an array of emotions in moments. First was unbridled rage, darkening his typically patient smile with a kind of bloodlust you had never seen from him before. Next was bone-chilling fear that made him look even more pallid than he already was. Finally a deep sorrow seemed to settle over him as ice slowly formed around his body and across the floor towards you.

If you were going to keep one of the strongest allies you had on your side, you would have to make him see the situation as you see it.

"... You don't want to be in my Hoard..?"

"I do want to be in the Hoard, but not if you are going to treat me like some pet or toy. I have my own wants and desires, Tsuno. I don't think anyone has the right to take that away from me. I don't want a mate right now."

"But... Your heat-"

"Humans don't have heats. I'm ovulating, not going into heat. It makes me more interested in finding a mate, but I don't need to mate. It isn't something that will hurt me if I don't, it just means I'm more... fertile... than normal. I don't want to be treated as a toy, for mating or otherwise. It isn't right that anyone treats me like a toy, not even you."

"I didn't mean to..."

"So I gather. But that still doesn't make it right, Tsuno."

That crushing look of despair took over his entire face as the temperature of the room dropped further and you could see your breath. If lightning meant he was angry, then surely this frost meant he was sorrowful. He had grossly misread the circumstances and was quite hurt by your scolding.

You faintly remembered Lilia telling you that Malleus was an adult, but was very young by Dragon standards and would continue to be considered young until he reached 1,000 years. He didn't have many- if any- true friends growing up other than Lilia and it was clear he didn't often bring others into his Hoard unless he truly wanted them to be a part of it. Malleus was acting like an outcast among outcasts and it made your heart hurt for him to recall his unfortunate reality. How he had to keep others at arms length despite how much he truly wanted friends and camaraderie.

Despite the ice and cold, you approached him unflinchingly and noticed how he avoided your gaze. It almost seemed little crystalline tears were forming in his eyes as you looked at the Dragon's shadowed face. He refused to glance at you before you wrapped your arms around the Dragon, holding him in a warming hug that thawed the forming frost and pushed back the cold.

It was a long moment of holding him before he reciprocated the embrace, hesitantly allowing his tail to wrap around your leg and his wings to fold around you. His shoulders shook somewhat as if in small hitching sobs as he buried his face in your shoulder. It was as if his entire body was focused on keeping you close and holding you to his chest.

"Please don't leave me. I'm so tired of being left alone. Please..."

"I won't leave you, Tsuno. But you need to understand that I will choose what makes me happy and gives me comfort. I want to be part of the Hoard and I want to be your friend, but you aren't allowed to just make decisions for me without even talking with me first. I agree with Headmage Crowley that the staff should be my guards this week, at least until my ovulation period is over."

"I'll miss you..."

"It won't be long, but it will keep me safe."

"I want to be the one to keep you safe."

"And you will have plenty more chances, but for now, this is for the best. That way no one else gets confused about this situation. Okay?"

"... Okay."

You nodded and let Malleus continue to hold you as he calmed himself down. As his breathing soothed to a steady rhythm with no more hitching you knew he was back in the proper state to listen and make rational decisions.

"Will you tell me when I can come back? When it's over..?"

"I will tell you the very second it happens, okay?"

"Okay... I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..."

"I know you didn't. But we have plenty of time to catch up again after this. Are you going to make it storm or snow if I walk away?"

"... No."

You chuckled softly at the almost childish and pouting response, smiling at the dour Dragon that had saved you from those Fae and had done what he could to protect you. Not wanting to confuse him, you pulled away instead of leaning into the continued embrace. He let you go but still seemed withdrawn and downtrodden. The only harm it could do was comfort him, so you paused to plant a soft kiss on his forehead and a small wry smile pulled at his lips.

"The moment this 'ovulation' cycle is over, okay?"

"Of course."

"Lilia, Silver, Sebek, we need to leave for now, but we will be back soon. Until then, (Y/n)... I will wait for your call."

[svt-luna]

𝜗℘ CAN I BE HIM?

❛ 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘪’𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘯𝘰. 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘢 𝘥𝘳𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴, 𝘬𝘪𝘴𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴— 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 '𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘪 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯. 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘪 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴, 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮? ❜

timeline: 2017 & 2018

synopsis: Amid the tangled emotions between Luna, Jeonghan, and Mingyu, unspoken confessions and lingering hopes weave a bittersweet narrative of love, regret, and the desperate longing to be chosen.

warnings: angst, multiple povs, narrative description heavy, cursing, crying, mentions of rejection, heartbreak, jealousy, regrets, unrequited love (?), sad!Luna, jealous!Jeonghan, jealous!Mingyu, lowkey possessive Jeonghan, secret feelings, confusions and realizations, acceptance, unrequited love, everyone is lowkey sad

read If Only first before this if you haven’t already! this one-shot is the aftermath of that story. this is also inspired by these request by you lovely humans: (request 1), (request 2), (request 3) & (request 4) happy reading, my loves 🤍🤎

sidenote… my heart aches for the three of them cause i have been on their shoes before… all three of them (also, i made myself cry again)… i promise, they’ll be fine 🥹🤍

“and when i felt like i was an old cardigan under someone’s bed, you put me on and said i was your favorite.” listening to Cardigan while writing this is not for the faint hearted…

╰ ౨ৎ LUNA-VERSE MASTERLIST ╰ ౨ৎ writings masterlist

Can I be him?

The thought crossed Mingyu’s mind as he sat on the cold floor of the practice room, his back propped against the wall. His dark eyes were fixed on Luna, who was across the room, quietly stretching. Her movements were methodical, almost robotic, as if her body was going through the motions her heart wasn’t in. She tilted her head to one side, letting out a soft laugh at something Dokyeom had said, but Mingyu wasn’t fooled.

That smile didn’t reach her eyes.

Her eyes told a different story.

Slightly swollen, rimmed with a faint red that hadn’t been there the day before, they seemed heavier today, carrying the kind of weight that only came with a sleepless night and a broken heart.

Luna’s smile faltered just slightly as she stretched her arms over her head, her gaze dropping momentarily to the floor. But she recovered quickly, plastering on the same bright expression that fooled most of the room.

Most of the room— but not the members, not him, and definitely not Jeonghan.

Mingyu’s gaze drifted from Luna to her shadow.

Jeonghan sat across the room, leaning against the mirrored wall, legs sprawled in front of him. His usual air of calm amusement was absent. Instead, he looked subdued, almost tired. His sharp eyes followed Luna’s every movement, his expression unreadable except to those who knew him best.

Mingyu could see the sadness there, the guilt. Jeonghan wasn’t the type to wear his emotions plainly, but Mingyu knew him too well to miss the subtle signs.

Mingyu let out a quiet sigh, his chest tightening as he turned his attention back to Luna.

She was so good at pretending.

Too good.

But not good enough to fool him.

Despite his reputation for being loud and playful, Mingyu was surprisingly perceptive, especially when it came to his members. He had a knack for reading the room, for picking up on the things people didn’t say.

And Luna, with her slightly too-wide smile and tired eyes, was screaming in silence.

His mind wandered back to the night before, right after they had wrapped up a grueling day of comeback promotions. They’d all piled into the van, worn out but satisfied with their progress. But something had been different. The usual chatter and teasing had been dampened by a palpable tension that no one could quite name.

He remembered how Jeonghan had broken the silence as they pulled up to the dorms.

“Can you guys give me a moment with Jiyeon?” Jeonghan had asked, his voice calm but carrying an edge of urgency that couldn’t be ignored.

The members had exchanged glances but ultimately agreed, leaving Jeonghan to chase after Luna to the elevators.

Mingyu had lingered just a moment longer, glancing back to see Jeonghan jogging after Luna, his expression uncharacteristically serious.

Desperate, almost.

The elevator doors had closed, muffling whatever conversation took place between the two.

By the time they arrived at the practice room today, they had both looked… normal. Talking, laughing, pretending nothing was wrong. But it was clear as day that something had changed. Luna moved with less energy, her usual spark dulled. And Jeonghan— he looked like a man carrying a secret too heavy to bear.

Then there was the matter of Luna’s swollen eyes. She’d walked in and mumbled something about it being allergy season.

Allergy season.

The excuse might have flown with someone else, but Mingyu wasn’t buying it. He knew better.

Luna wasn’t allergic to pollen— or anything but mushrooms, for that matter. And while the other members had let it slide, choosing not to push her, Mingyu had spent the entire morning unable to shake the image of her red-rimmed eyes.

It wasn’t allergies. It was something else.

Mingyu’s chest tightened again as he watched Luna push her hair behind her ear, her focus entirely on her stretches.

Luna wasn’t looking at Jeonghan. She hadn’t looked at him directly all morning. And yet, her entire body seemed to lean in his direction, like she couldn’t help but orbit him.

Her heart was crying for Jeonghan, Mingyu realized.

Whatever had happened between them last night, it had left her raw. She was trying so hard to act normal, to be okay, but it was written all over her face.

And Jeonghan— Jeonghan’s face held an ache that mirrored hers.

Mingyu had always known Luna to be someone who wore her strength like armor. She was tough, fiercely independent, and had an almost stubborn determination to handle her own struggles.

Over the years, he’d watched her laugh off bad days, push through injuries, and hide her tears behind radiant smiles.

He knew why she did it— she hated the idea of being a burden to anyone.

Even now, when her swollen eyes and tired demeanor betrayed the storm inside her, she continued to act as though everything was fine.

But Mingyu also knew her tells.

He knew the little cracks in her facade that most people missed. The way her laughter came a beat too quickly, or how she busied herself with menial tasks when her thoughts became too loud. And he especially knew how she would retreat into herself, bottling everything up until she couldn’t anymore.

In those moments, there was always one person who could reach her— Jeonghan.

Jeonghan had a way of being exactly what Luna needed.

He was always the first to notice when something was wrong and the first to drop whatever he was doing to listen to her. No matter how busy or chaotic things got, Jeonghan would sit with her, offering his undivided attention and quiet reassurances until she felt safe enough to open up.

But not today.

Today, Jeonghan was the reason for the sadness she was hiding, and Mingyu knew she wouldn’t be going to him. Not with the way she avoided looking in his direction or the way she flinched just slightly when his name was mentioned.

Mingyu had decided then and there that if Jeonghan couldn’t be the one to catch her this time, he would.

Even if it wasn’t his place.

Even if it hurt.

He’d made it his mission to be the shoulder she could lean on, at least until she and Jeonghan could figure things out.

Mingyu didn’t need to replace Jeonghan in her life— though the selfish part of him ached to hold even a fraction of the space Jeonghan held in her heart.

No, Mingyu would happily be whatever Luna needed him to be. Because she deserved to have someone in her corner.

The practice session dragged on, but Mingyu barely registered it. His attention kept flickering to Luna, who worked quietly in the corner, tying her hair up into a ponytail as the rest of the members milled about the room. She was doing her best to blend into the background, her movements measured and unhurried. But Mingyu could see the way her hands trembled slightly as she twisted the hair tie around her fingers.

He didn’t hesitate.

Before she could finish, Mingyu crossed the room in a few long strides, his heart thudding in his chest as he approached her. Without a word, he gently turned her around to face him and wrapped her in the biggest, warmest hug he could manage.

Luna froze in his arms, caught off guard by the sudden embrace. For a split second, she didn’t know who it was, but the familiar weight of Mingyu’s biceps around her shoulders was a dead giveaway.

Her body tensed at first, stiff and uncertain, but then it melted against him. Her arms came up to wrap loosely around his torso, and Mingyu felt the tension in her shoulders ease. She sank into the hug as though it was exactly what she needed but didn’t know how to ask for.

Neither of them spoke. The world around them seemed to fade away, the noise of the practice room becoming distant and inconsequential.

Mingyu rested his chin on the top of her head, his large hands moving gently to the loose tie of her hair. He pulled it free, his fingers working carefully to gather her strands and tie them properly. Luna stayed in place, her arms still around his waist, her face pressed lightly against his chest.

When he finished, Mingyu pulled back just slightly, cupping her neck with both hands as he tilted her head up to look at him. His thumbs brushed softly against her skin, and he offered her the gentlest smile he could muster.

“You did good today,” he said, his voice low and steady. “I’m proud of you, Lulu-ya.”

Luna’s eyes went misty at his words, her lips curving into a sad, soft smile. “Thank you, Gyu-Gyu,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

Mingyu’s chest ached at the sight of her.

That smile— bittersweet and fragile— made him feel both helpless and fiercely protective all at once. He knew his words weren’t much, but she deserved to hear them.

Luna’s heart ached, too.

Jeonghan was always the one to tell her these things. After every practice, every performance, every small accomplishment, he would praise her for things she didn’t even realize mattered. “You did so well,” he’d say, whether it was after a grueling practice session or after a performance or something as simple as finishing her meal.

Mingyu wasn’t trying to replace Jeonghan, and deep down, she knew that. But it hurt all the same because his words reminded her of what she had with Jeonghan. And yet, it also made her heart swell with gratitude for Mingyu.

Mingyu felt the weight of her emotions, even if she didn’t voice them. He didn’t say anything, letting the moment hang between them before speaking softly again.

“Let’s eat together later,” he offered, his voice calm and reassuring. “I’ll come to your place, and we can hang out. Just you and me.”

Luna hesitated, her brows furrowing slightly as she considered his words. “You don’t have to, Gyu…”

“I want to,” he interrupted gently, his tone leaving no room for doubt. “You can tell me everything if you want or we can just watch something, okay?”

Her lips parted as if she wanted to argue, but she stopped herself. Instead, she nodded slowly. “Okay,” she said softly.

Mingyu smiled again, his hands still cupping her neck as he gave her a small nod. “Good. I’ll bring something over later. We’ll make a night of it.”

“Okay,” she repeated, her voice a little steadier this time.

It wasn’t much, but it was a start. And for now, that was enough.

Across the practice room, Jeonghan now stood, his against the mirrored wall, his arms crossed against his chest. Dino and Dokyeom were animatedly chattering beside him, their voices rising and falling with excitement as they recounted some trivial story from their schedule earlier that week. Jeonghan nodded absentmindedly, his lips curling into an occasional smile to show he was listening.

But he wasn’t.

His eyes were elsewhere, fixed on Luna and Mingyu, who were still locked in that quiet, private moment.

Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on the way Mingyu’s large hands cradled Luna’s neck with such gentleness, the way he tilted her head up to meet his gaze as if she were something precious. The way Luna’s tired face softened in response to Mingyu’s words, her lips curving into a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.

Jeonghan didn’t even realize he had stopped nodding along to Dokyeom and Dino’s conversation until Dokyeom nudged his shoulder, snapping him out of his trance. “Hyung, are you even listening?”

Jeonghan blinked, his head turning slightly toward them. “Hmm?” he murmured, feigning nonchalance as he offered them a distracted smile. “Yeah, I heard you.”

Satisfied, Dokyeom launched back into his story, and Jeonghan gave another vague nod. But his attention drifted back almost immediately, his gaze locking onto Luna once again.

Jeonghan wasn’t sure what he was feeling.

There was a tightness in his chest, a gnawing sensation that twisted uncomfortably in his gut. It wasn’t something he was particularly familiar with, and yet, it felt impossibly loud in his head.

He watched as Mingyu’s hands lingered at Luna’s nape, his fingers brushing lightly against her skin before he stepped back, giving her a reassuring smile. He watched the way Luna’s shoulders seemed to relax under Mingyu’s touch, how she nodded at whatever Mingyu said with an almost imperceptible hesitation, as if she was letting down a guard she didn’t even know she had raised.

And then, like a whisper in his mind, the thought came unbidden— Can I be him?

Jeonghan’s chest constricted at the question, his heart skipping a beat as if the thought itself had startled him. The weight of those words settled heavily in his mind, lingering like a bitter taste he couldn’t shake.

But almost as quickly as it had come, the thought shifted, his mind backtracking with a sharp pang of realization.

I was him.

His fingers curled against his thighs as the words echoed in his head, quiet but insistent. He was the one Luna used to lean on, the one she sought out when the weight of the world became too much to bear. He was the one who used to coax those smiles out of her, who knew exactly what to say to make her laugh, to make her feel seen.

And now, someone else was standing in his place.

Jeonghan’s jaw tightened as he forced himself to look away, his eyes dropping to the floor. He hated how his thoughts were spiraling, how his emotions felt tangled and messy in a way he couldn’t quite unravel.

“Hyung?” Dino’s voice pulled him back to reality again, and Jeonghan glanced up, his expression carefully composed.

“Yeah?” he asked, his tone calm and even.

“Are you okay? You seem… distracted,” Dino said, his brow furrowing slightly.

Jeonghan gave a small laugh, shaking his head as if to brush off the concern. “I’m fine. Just tired, that’s all.”

But as he glanced back across the room, his eyes catching the tail end of Luna and Mingyu’s conversation, that gnawing feeling in his chest remained.

He told himself it was nothing. Just a passing moment of jealousy, perhaps. Nothing he couldn’t shake off.

But deep down, Jeonghan knew better.

Luna knew better as well.

She knew this quiet evening with Mingyu, as comforting as it was, would inevitably end with her peeling back the layers of her conflict with Jeonghan.

She knew Mingyu well enough to recognize that he wasn’t here just to keep her company or to feed her. He was here because he cared, because he had always been the kind of person who would wait patiently until she was ready to share the weight she carried.

Later that night, just as planned, Luna and Mingyu found themselves in her cozy apartment. The smell of her vanilla perfume lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the soft citrus scent of the candle she had lit on her kitchen counter. They were supposed to order takeout, but Mingyu, ever the culinary enthusiast, had other plans.

“You know, you could just sit there and be pretty while I do all the work,” Mingyu teased as he rummaged through her fridge, pulling out ingredients with practiced ease.

Luna, standing across the kitchen island with her arms crossed, raised an eyebrow at him. “And why would I do that when I can help? You do realize I’m capable of cooking, right?”

Mingyu paused, a dramatic look of skepticism plastered on his face. “Capable? Sure. But am I willing to risk my life testing that theory? Not really.”

She rolled her eyes, but the corners of her lips twitched upward despite herself. “Oh, please. I could outcook you any day.”

“Oh, really?” Mingyu leaned against the counter, smirking at her.

“Really. I’m an amazing cook, Gyu,” Luna huffed, grabbing a wooden spoon from the utensil drawer. “I’m helping, whether you like it or not.”

Mingyu grinned, knowing she wouldn’t back down. “Fine, fine. I’ll give you a task so you don’t feel useless.” He gestured toward the living room with his chin. “Go pick something for us to watch. Something good, okay? No pressure.”

Luna narrowed her eyes at him, but she set the spoon down and wandered into the living room, already knowing exactly what she’d choose.

When she returned a few minutes later, the television glinting as the screen flashed and showed what she chose. Mingyu burst into laughter. “‘Tangled’,” he said, shaking his head fondly. “Why am I not surprised?”

“What’s wrong with ‘Tangled’?” Luna asked, feigning offense as she arranged the table in front of her.

“Nothing,” Mingyu replied, turning back to the stove. “I just knew you’d pick it. You’re predictable, Lulu-ya.”

“Predictable? I’ll have you know that this is a classic,” she said, plopping down on the couch and throwing a cushion at him for good measure.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t,” Mingyu called back, dodging the cushion with a grin.

The sound of vegetables sizzling in the pan and the faint background score of the movie filled the apartment, creating a warmth that wrapped around them like a blanket.

When the food was finally ready, they settled on the couch with plates in hand, the coffee table serving as a makeshift dining area. The meal was simple— kimchi fried rice with chicken and some stir-fried vegetables— but it was perfect.

As the movie played, Luna found herself laughing more than she had in days. Mingyu kept up a steady stream of commentary, poking fun at Flynn Rider’s exaggerated smolder and mimicking Maximus the horse with over-the-top gestures.

It was silly and endearing, and it was exactly what she needed.

But Mingyu never pushed. He didn’t ask her how she was feeling, didn’t pry into the thoughts she was clearly holding back. He just let her exist, let her enjoy the moment, and it made all the difference.

For now, Luna didn’t have to think about the ache in her chest or the unspoken tension that lingered between her and Jeonghan.

For now, she could just be.

But deep down, she knew better. She knew that before the night was over, the words she had been swallowing all day would finally spill out. And somehow, she also knew that Mingyu would be ready to catch them when they did.

And then it did happen.

It happened in a flash, so subtle yet so significant, that Luna barely registered the words leaving her mouth until it was too late.

Mingyu stood from the couch, stretching his long limbs before heading toward her pantry. He ran a hand through his hair and casually asked, “You want a glass of wine? Thought it might as well be our dessert.”

She was mid-laugh, relaxed for the first time in what felt like ages, when the words slipped out, unbidden. “The last time I drank, I got fucking drunk and told Han I–”

The room fell into an unnatural stillness as her sentence cut short. Her breath hitched, and she froze, eyes dropping immediately to her hands. Her fingers instinctively twisted the gold rings she always wore, a habit Mingyu had seen countless times before. It was her tell, her silent admission of unease.

Mingyu turned slowly, his hand still hovering over the wine bottle. He studied her with the kind of calm that came only from years of reading people. He released the bottle without a sound and walked back toward her.

He didn’t speak, didn’t push, simply sat beside her, his broad frame a steady presence in the quiet room.

Luna felt the couch shift under his weight, but she couldn’t look at him. Her fingers kept twisting, the band of her rings cool against her warm skin. She felt a hand gently rest atop her head, and her tense shoulders eased just slightly at the comforting gesture.

The silence stretched between them, thick and heavy, until she finally closed her eyes and sighed, long and weary. She knew Mingyu wouldn’t force her to speak. But that was precisely why she wanted to.

He deserved to know.

After everything he had done for her tonight— his lighthearted banter, the warm meal, the quiet reassurance he provided without ever needing words— he deserved this piece of her, no matter how raw it felt to offer.

And maybe, just maybe, she needed this too.

“The last time I drank…” she started, her voice shaky, barely above a whisper. She forced herself to keep going, the words tumbling out like a confession she had been holding too tightly for too long. “I got drunk and told Han… told him that I liked him.”

Her voice cracked at the last word, and she bit her lip, still unable to meet Mingyu’s gaze.

Mingyu had known.

He had always known.

From the moment they had met as trainees, it was as clear as daylight. Luna’s feelings for Jeonghan were written in every lingering glance, in the subtle softening of her features whenever he walked into the room, in the way she instinctively gravitated toward him no matter the situation.

It was in the way her eyes sparkled like stars whenever Jeonghan praised her, the way she seemed to orbit around him without even realizing it.

Mingyu knew it because he felt the same way about her.

He knew how it felt to linger in the background, to notice every small detail about someone and hope they’d see you too. He knew how it felt to hide his feelings behind jokes and smiles, burying them so deeply that no one would ever guess.

The difference between them was that Luna’s feelings were as evident as the sun at noon, while his were a well-guarded secret. He had mastered the art of pretending, of hiding his heart in plain sight.

He watched her, his heart aching as she twisted her rings even harder. It was as if she were trying to ground herself, to stop herself from breaking apart completely.

“…And the next day, in the elevator, he told me we wouldn’t work.”

The quiet admission shattered Mingyu’s trance.

His eyes snapped down to her, and he saw her finally look up at him. Her dark eyes were rimmed with tears, glistening under the soft light of her apartment. She blinked rapidly, as if willing them not to fall, but her lips trembled despite her effort to keep her composure.

“Am I too hard to love, Gyu-Gyu?” she whispered, her voice so soft, so heartbreakingly vulnerable, that Mingyu’s chest tightened.

His breath caught, and for a moment, he couldn’t find the words. He could only see the pain in her eyes, the self-doubt she had no business carrying, and the weight of her question that hung in the air between them.

Mingyu swallowed hard, his fists clenching against his knees as a bitter thought crept into his mind.

Can I be him?

Could he be the one who made her laugh, made her cry, made her feel so deeply? Could he be the one her heart longed for so desperately?

Mingyu had tried to push those feelings down for so long, telling himself it was enough just to be her friend. But seeing her like this, so broken over someone else— it hurt. It hurt more than he could have imagined.

Why can’t I be him?

And yet, even as the thought consumed him, Mingyu couldn’t look away. All he wanted, more than anything, was for her to smile again. Even if it wasn’t because of him.

Because that was what love looked like.

And right now, love was a battlefield he was losing.

He wanted to tell her so much— that she wasn’t too hard to love, that she deserved more than she was giving herself credit for, that if only she would let him, he would love her in ways she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

But he also knew this wasn’t about him.

So, instead, he cupped her face in his large, warm hands, his thumbs gently brushing against her cheeks as he steadied her gaze.

“No,” he said, his voice firm yet impossibly soft. “You’re not hard to love, Jiyeonie. Not at all.”

Her tears spilled over then, and Mingyu felt his heart splinter in ways he didn’t think were possible. He pulled her into his arms, holding her tightly, as if he could shield her from every hurt she had ever felt.

And for tonight, he promised himself he would be that person for her— the one she could lean on, the one who wouldn’t let her fall apart.

Luna broke.

It was slow at first, a trembling exhale that Mingyu barely heard over the rush of his own thoughts. Her body stiffened against him, her small frame caught in the vice grip of emotions she could no longer hold back.

Then, with a sound that tore straight through his chest, she broke completely.

Mingyu felt the full weight of her grief as her fingers fisted tightly into his shirt, clutching him like he was the only thing tethering her to the earth. Her tears spilled freely now, soaking the fabric of his shirt as sobs wracked her body.

He didn’t speak, didn’t move beyond the slow, soothing circles his hand traced on her back. He held her tightly, anchoring her, silently telling her she wasn’t alone in this.

It was the first time she’d let herself cry again after last night’s explosive breakdown. Almost twenty-four hours had passed since she’d stepped out of that elevator, leaving Jeonghan behind with a reassuring smile she’d fought to muster. She’d told him it was fine, told him she understood, before the doors slid shut and she was finally, mercifully, alone.

The second she’d stepped into her apartment, the dam had burst. Every ounce of strength she’d held onto collapsed under the weight of his polite rejection. She had screamed into her pillow, sobbed until her chest physically hurt, and curled into herself as the words replayed in her head like a cruel melody:

“…we can’t do this.”

And now, here she was again, sobbing uncontrollably, except this time she wasn’t alone.

Mingyu said nothing as her cries poured out against him. He stayed rooted in place, steady and quiet, letting her grief unfold at its own pace. His hand never stopped its gentle motion against her back, his other arm a firm yet tender hold around her.

He didn’t mind that his shirt was drenched, didn’t care that her nails were digging into him.

All he cared about was her.

When her sobs finally began to soften into quiet sniffles, he shifted slightly, but only to press his lips to the crown of her head in a gesture so soft it was almost reverent.

“You are not hard to love, Jiyeonie,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. He pulled back just enough to tilt her tearstained face up to meet his gaze. His hands cupped her cheeks gently, his thumbs wiping away the streaks of tears on her flushed skin. “You are far from that. In fact, you’re so easy to love.”

Her swollen, teary eyes locked onto his, and he could see the raw emotion swimming in them. Confusion, sadness, disbelief— all of it was there, but she didn’t pull away.

Luna let him hold her, let him speak.

Mingyu exhaled softly, his thumbs brushing over her skin again as he continued. “You care so deeply about the people around you. You go out of your way to make everyone feel seen and heard, even when you’re struggling yourself. You light up every room you walk into, Lulu-ya. People gravitate toward you without even realizing it because you make everything feel lighter, better. You’re kind in ways that most people can’t even fathom. You make people laugh, you make them feel safe. You make me feel safe.”

His voice wavered slightly at the last admission, but he pressed on, unable to stop the words tumbling from his heart. “You’re the type of person who loves so selflessly, and I don’t think you even realize how rare that is. You’re easy to love, Bae Jiyeon. So easy. Anyone who tells you otherwise doesn’t deserve you.”

He let out a shaky breath, the weight of his unspoken feelings threatening to overwhelm him. This wasn’t just about reassuring her— it was a truth he’d been holding onto for years, a truth he’d never been able to say out loud until now.

Luna’s lips parted slightly as she stared up at him, her wide, tear-filled eyes searching his face for something she couldn’t name. She didn’t speak, but she didn’t need to. Her silence said more than words ever could.

Mingyu’s gaze dropped to her lips, lingering there for a moment too long before flickering back to her eyes. And then back again. His breath hitched, and he realized just how close they were, her face cradled in his hands, their breaths mingling in the quiet space between them.

Her eyes held sadness, yes, but there was also a flicker of confusion, a question she didn’t yet know how to ask.

His head dipped slowly, so slowly that time seemed to stretch around them. He could feel the pull, the magnetic force drawing him closer to her, but just as his lips were a whisper away from hers, he stopped.

Mingyu froze, his breath shaky as he closed his eyes and let his forehead rest gently against hers.

He sighed deeply, frustration and guilt clawing at him as he scolded himself silently.

What are you doing, Kim Mingyu?

Luna didn’t need this. She didn’t need more confusion, more complications. She didn’t need him taking advantage of her vulnerability.

Luna nudged her forehead against his, a small gesture of concern that only deepened his guilt. “Gyu-Gyu?” she whispered, her voice laced with confusion.

He opened his eyes slowly, finding her gaze still locked on him, her brows knit together as if trying to piece together what he was feeling.

Without a word, Mingyu pulled back just enough to place a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. His lips pressed against her skin with a tenderness that conveyed everything he couldn’t say aloud.

When he finally pulled away, his eyes met hers again, and he offered her a small, reassuring smile. “You’re going to be okay, Jiyeonie,” he said quietly, his voice filled with a conviction he wasn’t entirely sure he believed. “You’re stronger than you think.”

Mingyu took a deep breath, steadying himself as he stared into Luna’s tear-streaked face. Her eyes, still wide and brimming with confusion, searched his for answers he didn’t yet have the strength to give. But there was one thing he knew with unwavering certainty, one thing he could promise her.

“I’ll make sure you’re okay,” he said, his voice soft yet filled with conviction. His hands, still cradling her face, fell to her shoulders, giving them a reassuring squeeze. “I don’t know how long it’ll take or how much it’ll hurt, but I promise you, Jiyeonie, I’ll be here. Whatever you need— whenever you need it— I’ll be here.”

The words hung in the air like a vow, unspoken yet understood. He didn’t need her to respond. Her silence, the way her fingers clung faintly to his wrist, was enough.

And with that, he stayed close, letting her process everything in her own time, his presence a silent promise that he wasn’t going anywhere.

And Mingyu kept that promise.

Through the days, the weeks, the months that followed, he was there. Quietly, steadfastly, he became the anchor Luna needed as she worked through the storm raging inside her.

He was the one who showed up unannounced at her apartment with her favorite takeout when he suspected she hadn’t eaten. The one who filled her living room with laughter when he pulled out his collection of terrible dad jokes. The one who dragged her out for morning walks when she felt too drained to even leave her bed, promising her that fresh air and sunshine could do wonders for her soul.

Whenever self-doubt crept into her voice, Mingyu countered it with an unwavering confidence in her. “You’re stronger than this,” he’d say, “and I’m not just saying that because I care about you. You’ve gotten through so much, Jiyeonie. You’re going to get through this, too.”

Whenever fatigue settled into her bones or fear whispered cruel lies into her ear, Mingyu was there. He’d sit with her in silence on her toughest days, a steady presence she could lean on without judgment. He gave her space when she needed it and filled it when she asked.

Mingyu knew when to push and when to wait.

There were days when she would cry, and he would simply hold her. Other days, she would rant about how lost she felt, how fragile she had become, and Mingyu would sit there, listening to every word without interrupting.

Mingyu didn’t try to fix her. He just let her feel what she needed to feel.

And slowly but surely, Luna began to heal.

Her laughter returned, soft at first but growing stronger with each passing day. Her confidence, once so shaken, began to rebuild itself. She started to hum absentmindedly again, a habit Mingyu had always found endearing.

Even her relationship with Jeonghan began to return to normal.

The awkward silences that had once stretched between them disappeared. The lingering tension in their stares faded, replaced by the easy camaraderie they had always shared. They laughed together again, talked as though nothing had happened, and spent time with the rest of the members without the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

Jeonghan, true to form, never brought up what had transpired between them months prior. He respected her unspoken boundaries, never prying, never pushing. Luna, for her part, was grateful for that.

But no matter how much Mingyu helped her heal— no matter how many of her insecurities and doubts he managed to soothe— there was one thing he couldn’t replace.

Her feelings for Jeonghan.

Even after all this time, even after nearly a year of distance and rebuilding, her heart beat only for him.

It was Jeonghan she thought of in quiet moments, Jeonghan whose laughter still echoed in her mind, Jeonghan whose touch she longed for.

Her heart ached for him, yearned for him, and no amount of time seemed capable of changing that.

Her heart beats only for him; it longs only for him, an unyielding melody that no one else can rewrite.

And Mingyu… Mingyu was content with that.

Because if there was one thing he knew about love, it was that sometimes, love meant putting someone else’s happiness above your own. It meant helping the person you loved most find their happiness, even if that happiness didn’t include you.

After all, you would do anything for love— even if it meant helping your love with their love.

Mingyu marveled at his own heart sometimes, at its strength.

How was it possible to love someone so selflessly, to give so much of yourself knowing you might never get anything in return?

He didn’t know, but he also didn’t regret it.

Then again, Luna’s heart was just as strong, if not stronger.

She had endured the kind of heartbreak that could shatter a person, and yet she had chosen to keep loving. She had chosen to persevere, to hold onto that love even when it felt impossible.

Mingyu thought of her often, of the quiet resilience she carried, of the way she smiled even when her heart was heavy.

She amazed him, and in some ways, she inspired him.

If Luna could endure so much and still love so deeply, then who was he to do any less?

And so, Mingyu stayed by her side, his heart heavy yet full.

Because loving Bae Jiyeon— helping Bae Jiyeon—wasn’t a burden.

It was a privilege.

Jeonghan feels the same.

It was a privilege.

It was a privilege to know Luna, to stand beside her through the years as they navigated the treacherous waters of the idol world. A privilege to work with her, to watch her light up stages with an effortless grace that took his breath away every time. A privilege to call her his best friend, the one person who could read him like an open book even when he thought he was being clever.

And above all else, it was a privilege to be loved by her.

Jeonghan had known since the moment she confessed to him in her apartment, her words slurring slightly from the alcohol but her heart painfully clear.

Luna’s love for him wasn’t something fleeting or shallow. It was deep and real, a kind of love he’d never dared to believe someone like him could deserve.

But it terrified him.

The moment in the elevator the night after when he told her, “We can’t do this,” he knew he’d made a mistake.

The look in Luna’s eyes— the fleeting flash of pain she couldn’t quite mask before she quickly plastered on a smile— was something that haunted him.

He remembered the way she reassured him, her voice trembling slightly as she said, “It’s fine. I was drunk and being stupid.” And then she left the elevator, her head held high, as though the weight of his rejection wasn’t bearing down on her.

But Jeonghan knew her better than that.

He always had.

That night, he couldn’t sleep. His mind replayed every moment of their conversation, every little detail he wished he could take back. He pictured her walking into her apartment, finally letting her guard down, finally allowing herself to cry.

The thought of her alone, her shoulders shaking with sobs he knew she wouldn’t let anyone else see, made his chest ache.

The next day, he noticed the shift immediately.

Luna avoided his gaze in schedules, her usual bright smiles now tempered, softer, almost rehearsed. She threw herself into work with a single-minded focus that even the other members started to comment on. He could see it in the way she laughed at jokes— polite, short, never reaching her eyes. He could see it in the way she distanced herself, not just from him but from everyone, wrapping herself in a cocoon of work and solitude.

And then there was Mingyu.

Jeonghan noticed how Luna began to gravitate toward him.

It started small— a lingering conversation here, a shared laugh there. But it grew, and before long, Mingyu became her shadow, her support, her confidant.

Jeonghan should have felt envious, should have felt angry, but all he felt was gratitude.

Because if anyone could help Luna when she refused to help herself, it was Mingyu.

Jeonghan knew how Luna was.

She wasn’t the type to openly share her emotions, not unless she was pushed. She was the type to bury them, to lock them away until the weight of them became unbearable. And Mingyu… Mingyu had a way of drawing people out, of making them feel safe.

Jeonghan was thankful for him, even if it hurt to watch them together sometimes.

And so, Jeonghan watched.

Silently, slyly, like a fly on the wall, he kept an eye on her.

He noticed the little things— the way her smile faltered when she thought no one was looking, the way her hands fidgeted nervously during group meetings, the way her laugh sometimes felt just a little too forced.

Jeonghan noticed how she stopped seeking him out the way she used to, how her lingering stares disappeared, replaced by a pointed avoidance that cut deeper than he wanted to admit.

He noticed, too, the way Mingyu seemed to bring back pieces of the Luna he knew.

Little by little, she began to laugh more freely, her eyes regaining some of their sparkle. She started to hum to herself again, a quiet melody that Jeonghan hadn’t realized he missed until it returned.

But even as Luna began to heal, Jeonghan couldn’t shake his regret.

He regretted the fear that had gripped him in that elevator, the fear that had made him choose the safe path instead of the one he truly wanted.

Jeonghan regretted making her feel like her love wasn’t worth the risk, like she wasn’t worth the risk.

He regretted the way he had hurt her, the way he had driven her away, the way he had made her question herself. And he regretted most of all that he hadn’t been brave enough to tell her the truth.

Because the truth was, Jeonghan had loved Luna for as long as he could remember.

Jeonghan was in love with Luna.

Hopelessly, irrevocably in love with her in a way that defied logic or reason. It wasn’t something he could pinpoint to a single moment or a singular trait.

From the moment they met as trainees, there had been something about her that drew him in. Maybe it was despite her cold outward appearance, she smiled so beautifully, so bright and unguarded, or the way she laughed, unabashed and full of life. Maybe it was the way she looked at him, like she could see straight through the facade he so carefully crafted.

It was everything, all at once.

It was the way she scrunched her nose when she laughed too hard, her giggles filling the room like sunlight spilling into a dark corner. It was the way she remembered the little things— like how he liked his coffee or how he always needed a nap after a long schedule.

It was the way she seemed to know him better than he knew himself, calling him out on his tricks and teasing him just enough to make him feel seen but never exposed.

He loved the way she carried herself, too— quietly resilient, endlessly kind, and fiercely loyal.

Luna was the type of person who gave her all to the people she loved, and Jeonghan had been one of the lucky ones to be on the receiving end of that love.

Jeonghan loved her then, and he loved her now.

But he had convinced himself that love wasn’t worth the risk.

That the friendship they had built, the bond they shared as members of the same group, was too important to jeopardize. That their careers, their futures, couldn’t withstand the weight of a love like theirs.

And so, he had told her no.

Even now, after everything, after he had hurt her, rejected her, and created a chasm between them, she treated him with the same warmth she gave to everyone else. He could see it was different now, of course— more guarded, more deliberate— but it was still there.

And it made him ache.

Jeonghan had spent countless nights lying awake, staring at the ceiling, replaying the moment he told her no.

But now, as he watched her from afar, as he saw the way she smiled at Mingyu, as he noticed the way she seemed to come alive again under his care,

Regret was a constant companion, whispering in his ear, reminding him of what he had given up. It wasn’t just her love he had rejected— it was the possibility of something more, something deeper, something that terrified him because of how much he wanted it.

He wanted to make things right, to take back the pain he had caused her, to give her the love she deserved. But he didn’t know how.

But he was determined to make things right, no matter how long it took.

So, for now, he watched. And he waited.

Even if they could only ever be friends, Jeonghan was willing to accept that. He would rather have her in his life in any capacity than risk losing her completely. He was willing to put in the effort, to prove to her that she was safe with him again, that he could be someone she could trust. He was willing to push his own feelings aside if it meant seeing her happy.

And he hoped, with everything in him, that one day he would find the courage to tell her the truth.

But it wasn’t easy.

Even after months of careful rebuilding, after they had returned to a semblance of normalcy, Jeonghan could still see how Luna clung to Mingyu.

He didn’t blame her. Mingyu had been her rock during the time Jeonghan had faltered, the one who had stepped in when he had stepped away. And Mingyu, ever the gentle giant, had been exactly what Luna needed.

They were behind the scenes of a photoshoot when Jeonghan saw it again.

Luna’s laugh rang out, bright and unrestrained, as she squealed and called for Mingyu. “Gyu-Gyu, look at this!” she said, her voice laced with excitement. She held up her phone, waving it at him as he approached, his face lighting up in that easy, boyish grin Jeonghan had come to know so well.

Mingyu leaned down to look at her phone, his broad shoulders nearly swallowing her small frame as they shared a moment of quiet laughter.

Jeonghan watched from the corner of the room, his hands loosely clasped in front of him, his heart constricting painfully at the sight.

He was happy to see her smile like that, truly happy.

It was the kind of smile that reached her eyes, the kind of smile that had been absent for so long. And he was thankful for Mingyu— deeply, profoundly thankful— for being the one to bring that smile back.

But despite the gratitude that swelled in his chest, another thought crept into his mind, unbidden and unwelcome.

Can I be him?

The question lingered, heavy and bittersweet.

It mirrored the thought that had crossed Mingyu’s mind so many months ago, the same quiet longing, the same resignation.

But where Mingyu’s question had been born from the pain of unrequited love, Jeonghan’s was laced with guilt and regret. Because he could have been him. He could have been the one to make her laugh like that, to stand by her side, to be her rock.

But he wasn’t.

And now, as he watched her with Mingyu, he couldn’t help but wonder if he had forfeited his chance entirely.

Jeonghan’s gaze lingered on them, his heart twisting with an ache he couldn’t quite put into words. He saw the way Luna tilted her head up to meet Mingyu’s eyes, her expression soft and full of trust. He saw the way Mingyu looked at her in return, his own gaze steady and unguarded.

It was a silent conversation, a quiet understanding, and Jeonghan felt like an intruder simply for witnessing it.

It was ironic.

Both Jeonghan and Mingyu were caught in the same cycle, both willing to put their own feelings aside for Luna’s happiness. Both of them aching for something they could never truly have. And yet, where Mingyu’s strength lay in his ability to give selflessly, Jeonghan’s strength was still a work in progress.

He wanted to be better for her. He wanted to deserve her.

But as he stood there, watching her laugh with Mingyu, the question lingered in the back of his mind, haunting him.

Can I be him?

Jeonghan’s breath caught in his throat as he stood frozen, watching the scene unfold before him. Luna and Mingyu were standing just a few feet away, their heads bent together over her phone. She laughed again, her voice light and melodic, and something inside Jeonghan twisted painfully.

She looked so happy.

The kind of happiness that was effortless, unguarded, real.

And yet, all Jeonghan could think was, Am I still the one?

The question clawed at him, desperate and raw, filling him with a fear he couldn’t shake. It wasn’t just the sight of her smiling at Mingyu or the way she leaned into his presence like he was her safe harbor.

It was the possibility that somewhere along the way, Jeonghan had lost her— lost the part of her heart that once belonged to him.

Had she moved on? Had her feelings for him faded, dissolved into nothing but a distant memory of what could have been?

Jeonghan’s fingers tightened into fists at his sides, his chest heavy with the weight of uncertainty. He had no one to blame but himself. He had been the one to push her away, to draw that invisible line between them, to let fear and doubt dictate his choices.

But what if, in doing so, he had extinguished the flame that once burned for him in her heart?

Jeonghan’s mind raced, desperate for answers.

He thought back to every stolen glance, every lingering touch, every smile she had ever given him. He thought about the way she used to look at him, her eyes filled with a kind of quiet adoration that made him feel like he was the center of her universe. He thought about the way she used to laugh at his jokes, even when they weren’t funny, and how she always seemed to seek him out in a crowded room, as if drawn to him by some invisible thread.

Was any of that still there? Or had it all been erased, replaced by something else— someone else?

Jeonghan swallowed hard, his throat tight with emotion. Please, he thought, his heart aching with the weight of his unspoken plea. Please let me still be the one.

He wanted so badly to believe that he was.

That somewhere deep inside, Luna’s heart still called for him, still craved him, still loved him. That despite everything— despite the hurt, the distance, the months of uncertainty— he was still the one she wanted.

But the fear was relentless, gnawing at the edges of his hope.

What if he was wrong? What if she had already let go? What if Mingyu had become the person she turned to, the person she leaned on, the person she loved?

The thought was unbearable, and yet it lingered, taunting him with its cruel possibilities.

Jeonghan’s eyes flickered back to Luna, watching the way she lit up in Mingyu’s presence, her smile brighter than he had seen it in months. He felt a pang of gratitude for Mingyu, for being there for her in a way that Jeonghan hadn’t been able to. But that gratitude was overshadowed by a deep, aching longing— an unrelenting desire to be the one who made her feel that way.

I can be him, Jeonghan thought, his mind racing with determination. I can be whoever and whatever you want me to be. Just don’t let go of me. Please, Nana-ya. Don’t give up on me.

The words burned in his chest, desperate and silent. He didn’t know how much longer he could hold on to this hope, this fragile, flickering belief that he still had a chance.

Jeonghan just needed to know. Needed her to give him a sign, a hint, anything to tell him that he wasn’t too late.

Wait for me, he thought, his gaze softening as he looked at her. Just a little longer. Don’t let go. Don’t let me go, pretty angel.

Because if there was even the slightest chance that he was still the one, Jeonghan would fight for her. He would fight with everything he had, against every fear and every doubt, to be the person she needed.

To be the person she loved.

Jeonghan just needed her to wait. Just a little more.

He can be the one.

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[bewaryofpity]

we all know quinn looks like he’s in a constant state of anxiety so it’s definitely not unlikely that his small, dainty hands have a slight constant tremor too. and you love teasing him about it.

maybe he’s unsure about physical touch in public because he doesn’t really like it and doesn’t want to draw attention to himself, or yourself too, and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable. and you think maybe that’s why his hand shakes a bit when he sneakily interlocks your pinkies together, or the tremble when he puts his hand on the small of your back to lead you through the crowd.

you think it’s cute how nervous he gets, despite being in front of the cameras and talking to reporters more often than not, or the fact that he’s a captain and so he can’t avoid human interactions as much as he would like.

and in the beginning you thought it was all related to being socially shy, not really a fan of talking to strangers and being asked for pictures. but months into your relationship you realize that his hands tremble regardless of the environment he’s in.

you noticed in the mornings when he’d kindly prepare your coffee before he had to leave for practice and he placed your cup in front of you a bit wobbly, but you know a cup of coffee doesn’t weigh that much.

or when he was helping you cook by chopping some vegetables and when you turned around to reach for the salt jar, your eyes glanced at the way his hands were shaking just slightly while scooping the chopped vegetables off the chopping board and into a bowl. maybe his hands were cold or maybe he was nervous for the start of the season the next night, so you left him be.

but then you caught on and you started to take a peek at his hands every change you’d get. like now, both of you sitting on the couch, a random movie you chose as background noise while you read your books and simply enjoying each other’s presence. you take your gaze off the page you’re reading to look at quinn, and you catch a glimpse of his hand turning the page, and it’s obviously shaking just barely.

it’s minimal but you notice, and a smile creeps on your lips. so you do what you do best and drop your book on the coffee table before taking his out of his hands and placing it on top of yours. he’s confused and even more so when you take the blanket off his lap, a what are you doing on his lips.

you reach towards him, steading yourself with your hands on his shoulders before completely plopping down on his lap, his brows furrowing at your sudden change of mood. he’s not really complaining though.

he puts his hands on your hips and you smile, leaning down to place a small peck on the corner of his lips and you keep kissing around his face — left cheek, nose, temple, forehead, right cheek. he’s beaming and you keep kissing him, his hands caressing your hips underneath your hoodie.

and when you start pecking his face more rapidly he begs you to stop, laughing at you, but you don’t, how could you when he’s looking all cute and his hands are still shaking against your skin.

quinn brings one hand to your cheek, parting away from your ever loving lips and you can’t miss the way his fingertips are brushing you before cupping your cheek. this is your opportunity to tease him.

“do i make you nervous, quinny?”

“what?” he’s blushing, your question catching him off guard. “no, why d’you ask?”

“your hands are always shaking.”

he doesn’t even know what to say because yes, his hands do shake, but it’s not because you make him nervous. you do sometimes, because you’re beautiful and you make his heart beat probably too fast in his chest. but his hands? that’s simply because he’s perpetually anxious and no matter what he does, the trembling doesn’t go away.

“yeah.” he says softly.

“so i do make you nervous.” you tease brushing your nose against his. and he groans, trying to hide his face in your shoulder so you wouldn’t tease him more about the growing blush on his cheeks, but you know him like the back of your hand so the natural thing to do is laugh.

“sometimes, but it’s a good nervous.” you can barely hear him, his lips hovering on your skin while he speaks before planting a light kiss on your shoulder.

you run a hand through his hair and you try really hard to suppress the laugh bubbling in your chest because quinn is purring like a cat, but his hands on your hips are still trembling, fingertips brushing at your delicate skin.

a/n: meg said that quinn looks like he has a hand tremor and i had the smallest idea for a blurb @star2fishmeg @capquinn convinced me to write in full :)

[sylusplushie]

''My dragon...''

summary; when mc is facing death and has no choice but to save her, sylus is forced to show his other side. in the end, no matter how much he tries to hide it, his horns are visible

This was my end, I was sure of it. I couldn't go any further; my strength was completely depleted. Warm blood streaming down my face blurred my vision, but I knew they had surrounded me. They were shouting; their voices reached me in a muffled way. I could hear my own breath, my heartbeat. I felt like I could faint at any moment.

I had no strength left to fight them; all I could think about was Sylus. I thought of all the moments we had spent together. If my life was flashing before my eyes, then my entire life was about him. Without realizing it, I felt myself smile. Despite being on the brink of death, just thinking about him soothed my soul. When I noticed the weapon raised toward me, I knew everything would end. I knew he wouldn't hear me, but I wanted to call out to him anyway. "I love you, Sylus."

I closed my eyes tightly, bracing myself for the end as much as I could. But suddenly, a violent sound rang out. It was so intense that I had to cover my ears, thinking the sky had split in two. Filled with chaotic emotions, I, like everyone else, looked up at the sky. My heart was racing; could things get worse than this?

The sky looked more terrifying than ever. The redness blending into the night's darkness was captivating. Everyone was stunned and frightened. "Did you do this?! Is this one of your tricks?!" they shouted at me, but I was too frozen to answer. There was something moving in the sky—a silhouette? I didn't know, but it seemed like… something huge.

"ANSWER ME, YOU BASTARD!" They aimed the weapon at me again, and that sound echoed once more, like an enraged roar. I was trembling; I had never heard anything so terrifying. When I looked up at the sky again, I couldn't believe my eyes. Was a massive creature flapping its wings, or was I losing my mind? Before I could comprehend what was happening, the ground began to shake. The creature roared with such fury that I was sure even the atmosphere was trembling. Everyone was running in fear, but I was losing so much blood that I felt my vision darkening.

I fell face down; the ground was shaking, everything was shaking. My vision was getting blurrier, and I had no idea what was happening around me. I wished so desperately for everything to be a nightmare. I was going to die there; there was no escape or salvation. I could clearly hear the creature's roars. It looked furious, destroying everything and everyone in its path. The surroundings had turned into a ring of fire and chaos. I was forcing myself to stay awake, but it was futile; my strength was dwindling.

I saw the creature descend, its massive body hitting the ground with a thud that shook everything. My vision was blurry, and I couldn't help but think my mind was playing tricks on me. Could the thing I was seeing in front of me be a dragon? No, it couldn't be. I wasn't in my right mind; this had to be some kind of illusion. Until I felt its breath. Warm and ash-scented, it surrounded me. Damn, it was real. I was face-to-face with a dragon, and I had no strength left. What could be worse than this? Maybe this was worse than death itself.

Yet, there was an inexplicable feeling of safety I felt toward this creature. It was as if I knew it wouldn't harm me from somewhere. I thought if I had encountered a dragon before, I wouldn't forget it. For some reason, I felt very calm; my heart and mind were at peace. It was a strange feeling, one I couldn't even explain to myself.

My vision was getting blurrier; the blood flowing from me was no longer warm. I felt my body starting to freeze. I had no idea how much blood I had lost, but I didn't even have the strength to move a finger. Even though my vision wasn't clear, I was sure the dragon had transformed into a human form. "I'm losing my mind… I must be… or maybe I'm already dead…"

This couldn't be possible, it shouldn't be. It was approaching me with heavy steps, and at that moment, I began to tremble like an injured bird. I didn't know what would happen to me, and I had no strength left to endure. Just before I fully closed my eyes, a familiar scent reached my nose. I knew this scent. I definitely knew it. My body was screaming silently to wake up again. I had to see, I had to be sure. My mind wasn't playing tricks on me; I had to be sure of it. I was battling with my consciousness as if it were a war, trying to open those delicate eyelids had never been this difficult.

I managed to barely open my eyes, and I was being carried by someone. When I lifted my gaze, I saw the owner of that familiar scent. Sylus. It was him. It was really him. I wanted to cry, to shout, but I could barely keep my eyes open. What was all of this? Could it all have been a simple illusion? I didn't know. All I knew was that I knew nothing.

My consciousness was slowly returning. I tried to open my eyes, but the light was so intense that it took a while. I looked around; I was in a hospital room. I was bandaged all over, and I still hurt a lot. Everything I had seen came rushing back to my mind. I had remembered everything; it was impossible to forget. My heart was racing, and I couldn't control my breath. It felt like a dream, but it wasn't. I didn't want to consider the possibility that it was a dream. The door opened, and Dr. Zayne entered. The last thing I remembered was being carried by Sylus; he must have brought me here. Dr. Zayne was taking the best care of me.

Finally, I found the energy to speak. I parted my dry lips. "Dr. Zayne, do you know who brought me here?" My voice was so faint that Zayne had to lean in to hear me. I saw him sigh and frown. I hoped he wouldn't hide anything from me. "Sylus brought you here, but don't worry, I'll take care of you—"

"Can you call him?" I felt bad for cutting Zayne off, but I couldn't suppress the excitement and the need for answers inside me. I wanted to know. I wanted to know what my visions meant. I wanted to know what had happened. Zayne looked at me silently for a while. "I don't know where he is, and I don't think I can reach him. You just need to rest and relax. Don't think about it now."

If only it were as easy as he said, not to think. I didn't have the energy to argue. I thought Sylus would come to see me eventually. I didn't know how many days had passed, but only Luke and Kieran had visited. Sylus hadn't come at all. I knew he was getting information about me from Luke and Kieran, but what I didn't know was why he hadn't come personally. When I asked them, I always got the same answer. "The boss is very busy."

The days in the hospital felt endless. Even though Zayne was taking the best care of me, I had been eagerly waiting to be discharged, and finally, that day had come. Luke and Kieran were accompanying me. I wanted to ask them more questions about Sylus, but I tried to comfort myself, thinking he might be home. It was a silly thought, I knew. Finally, we arrived; I was still having a bit of trouble walking, but I refused to accept any help. "I can manage on my own." When I entered the house, it was exactly as I had expected—Sylus was nowhere to be found. I narrowed my eyes, clearly, he was avoiding me. I turned to Luke and Kieran, who seemed ready to give me the same excuse. "No, Sylus is not busy, and you two are going to tell me where he is."

They looked at each other. I was sure Sylus had instructed them; I knew him well. I stared them down, determined not to leave them alone. "Something is going on, and I'm not stupid. You're going to tell me where he is, or I'll go look for him myself." My wounds were still healing, but I was already prepared to search everywhere. "No! Something could happen to you, your wounds haven't healed yet," Kieran said in a panic, which gave me a chance to manipulate him. "Oh yes, but you can't stop me forever. So, tell me where Sylus is, and I won't exert myself. Or I'll go everywhere to look for him and lose sleep." It wasn't exactly manipulation; I could do more than my best to find him.

Luke and Kieran looked at each other again, knowing how stubborn I was. I crossed my arms and gave them a challenging look. I wasn't going to give up. Sylus had never avoided me before, and I wasn't going to sit idly by when there was an obvious problem. Finally, Luke sighed. "The boss is going to kill us."

According to Luke and Kieran, Sylus was at an abandoned church in the forest. I had no idea what he was doing there; I couldn't even guess. Even if I thought about it, I wouldn't have imagined him being there. By the time we reached the forest, it was already night. I turned to them and said I wanted to go in alone. They weren't very eager to argue with me; both looked uneasy.

The forest was gloomy and silent; I could hear the crows. The ground crunched under my feet. I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. No matter how much I hesitated to admit it to myself, I was nervous; my palms were sweating. When I stood in front of the church, the only thing I felt was the urge to run. There was something inside that was causing me to feel that way; it was heavy, sinister, mysterious. Still, my curiosity and longing for Sylus didn't let me take a step back. Slowly, I opened the old door. I had to put all my strength into it, but eventually, it opened with a creak.

The interior was dark and dusty. I had to cover my mouth with my hand. There was very little light inside, just a few candles lazily placed on the floor. It was clear they had been lit recently, which meant he was here. I took a few steps inside, unable to see anything until my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I looked around, but it seemed as if there was nothing. The sound of my footsteps echoed inside. My heart began to beat faster; I didn’t know what awaited me and I was scared. "Sylus…?" Even I could barely hear my own voice, but for some reason, I didn’t want to call out to him loudly. I moved forward into the church, I had come this far, and I wasn’t going to turn back. Near the window, I finally saw a silhouette with its back to me. It was him; it couldn’t be anyone else. He knew I was here; it was impossible that he didn’t. But he didn’t move; he just stood there as if waiting for me to approach. I even began to doubt whether this was the Sylus I knew. I was scared, and I didn’t want him to sense it. Yet I slowly walked toward him; he still didn’t turn to face me.

"Is it always this hard to get rid of you?" His voice rooted me to the spot, my whole body stiff. He spoke without looking at me. "Why did you come? Couldn’t I have wanted to be alone for a bit?"

"You don’t want to be alone; you’re running away from me, Sylus." I took another step toward him; the least he could do was look at me while we talked. "I’ve come this far, but you’re still running from me; you’re not even looking into my eyes." I was filled with complex emotions; I felt like I was going crazy as I failed to understand what was happening. "What’s going on, Sylus? This isn’t you. You’ve never acted like this."

Sylus sighed, his breath fogging up the glass. "Maybe you don’t need to know everything. Some things aren’t worth bothering your little head over."

I frowned; yes, the situation was becoming increasingly infuriating. "I almost died there, and when I opened my eyes, I was in your arms, and then you started avoiding me. You didn’t even visit me in the hospital. And now you’re telling me I don’t need to know everything. Something is happening, but am I supposed to act like nothing’s wrong?"

I heard Sylus growl, though I couldn’t tell if it was out of anger or impatience. His fists were clenched. Slowly, he turned to me, his cold red eyes seemingly piercing my soul. He was still the Sylus I loved, but there was something off. "Why are you so eager for answers? I saved you in some way, and you’re alive; focus on that."

I took a few more steps toward him, now standing directly in front of him. Whatever was going to happen, let it happen; he could be as mad at me as he wanted, but I wasn’t going to hold back anymore. I looked into his eyes, but there was no sign of softening. "What did you do there? Was it some kind of illusion? What are you hiding from me?"

Sylus closed his eyes and lowered his head slightly. I couldn’t see his expression, but I was sure something was deeply troubling him. I cupped his face in my hands and lifted his head to look him directly in the eyes. The coldness was gone; instead, he looked so vulnerable, as if he had no strength left to hide anything. I gently caressed his cheeks with my thumbs; there was no rush to speak. I had to understand him too. "Please, Sylus, I want to know what’s bothering you so much," I whispered, looking into his eyes.

Sylus placed his hand over mine and brought it to his lips. I felt his cold lips on my skin. He stayed like that for a while, then looked at me with his half-open eyes. "Would you promise never to give up on me, no matter what happens? Or no matter what I become?" His voice was soft, very soft. I looked at him for a moment, trying to understand his words. "I would never give up on you. I care only about you, not what you are."

He slowly released my hand, his brows furrowing. I didn’t know if I had said something wrong, but I was sincere in my words. He stepped back a few paces, leaving some distance between us. I was afraid he would disappear again, run away. My heart was beating rapidly. He never broke eye contact with me. "Turn around."

I turned around immediately. I had no idea why I didn’t hesitate. I wasn’t afraid of him; I could give him my very soul. I just hoped he wouldn’t disappear anymore. The only sound I heard was the fluttering of something. "Look at me."

I turned around, trying to prepare myself for whatever I might see. But there was no way I could have been prepared for this. I held my breath. I had no idea what expression was on my face at that moment. Sylus… he had horns on his head, a tail behind him. He opened and closed his wings as if to show me. He stood so calmly. I knew he was waiting for me to say something. At that moment, everything felt surreal. While seeking answers, I found myself with even more unanswered questions. My tongue felt tied, as if I couldn’t utter a single word. He leaned against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Are you happy?" His voice brought me back to reality. I was still in shock, but I knew I had to shake it off. "Sylus…" I whispered; it was the first word that escaped my mouth. He chuckled, nodding as if he had received the reaction he expected. "Now you understand why I hid myself, why I ran from you, don’t you? I didn’t want you to know what I was."

Sylus looked at his claws for a moment, while I still didn’t know what to say. "I didn’t want to show you this side of me anymore. I was trying to leave it behind. You should have believed everything you saw was a dream." He looked at me again with those cold eyes; it felt like a dagger to my heart.

"What are you talking about?" I walked toward him; he wanted to distance himself from me, but he couldn’t. "What made you think I would give up on you?" He leaned in close to me, our noses nearly touching. "It seems like you still don’t remember anything."

At that moment, I felt like I had shattered into a thousand pieces. I had no idea what he was talking about or what he meant. Before I could gather myself, he continued. "I was hoping you would remember in some way; then I wanted to show you my true self because if you remembered, you would…" He sighed deeply, locking his gaze away from me. "Forget it. Even if you remembered, you wouldn’t want to continue your life with a monster. Nothing would change."

My body moved without my will. I suddenly held his face, looking directly into his eyes. I could feel my eyes filling with tears, and I was trembling… I was filled with so many emotions that I couldn’t describe them. My breathing was becoming irregular, but he didn’t break eye contact. "What nonsense are you talking about…" I finally managed to say, unable to hide the trembling in my voice no matter how hard I tried. "How can you call yourself a monster, Sylus? After everything we’ve been through together, how could you think that I wouldn’t want to be with you just because of this?" Finally, tears started streaming down my cheeks. I held his face tighter; I didn’t want to see anything but his eyes. I wanted to see him, just him.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about when it comes to remembering. Maybe… maybe you’re talking about those illusions I saw. And you wanted me to think that what happened that day was also an illusion. You wanted me to think that the dragon that appeared in the sky to save me was an illusion, but it was so real…" I smiled softly; I would give anything to see that illusion again. To fully remember, to completely understand what Sylus was talking about. But here we were, in this moment. Just because I couldn’t remember something from the past didn’t mean I couldn’t guide this moment. Sylus listened to me silently, saying nothing.

"I love you, Sylus. I love you. I don’t care what you are or what you’ve become. I love you with everything you are. I love you in this life too—"

Sylus suddenly pressed his lips to mine; I could taste the salt of my tears. His kiss wasn’t filled with desire but with longing. We had kissed before, but this was the first time he kissed like this. I held him tightly, grasping his horns. I had no intention of breaking the kiss. Our tongues entwined, our breaths mingled. He held me so tightly I felt like I might be crushed.

When he slowly broke the kiss, he wiped the tears from my eyes. I leaned into his touch, words failing to describe the emotions between us. He planted a kiss on the top of my head and held me tightly again, as if he never wanted to let go. I inhaled his scent, feeling his wings wrap around me. I buried my nose into the crook of his neck and closed my eyes.

"My dragon…"

this is the first time i have written so long. PLEASE let me know your feedback, good or bad. i hope you liked it ໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১

[inhuman-obey-me]

Congratulations on the 100k likes!🩵 And happy new year!

Can I ask for 65 with Solomon?

Really love your writing, keep up!

Thank you so much!! ;//u//;

Solomon + 65 | "Rain" - Unprocessed

He shouldn't want this. He shouldn't want you.

For centuries, Solomon has led a rather solitary life. Being the most renowned sorcerer throughout history was a rather isolating existence, one that had garnered him a great level of notoriety in some circles. The Sorcerer's Society begrudgingly worked with him (after having once thrown him out completely), the witches preferred to stay acquaintances and business partners, and the demons … well, most of his demons didn't particularly care for him, for obvious reasons.

He's done more than his fair share of unsavory deeds in his quest for power, in his mission to show that humans could hold their own against angels and demons alike. He had not meant to become immortal, but what better way to utilize his eternal life than to safeguard the human realm in a way only he could? It was a burden he ultimately placed on himself, one that Solomon believed only he was able to carry. So he must do it alone.

Then you arrived.

It happened so quickly, a whirlwind of events that led you to becoming his apprentice — his first apprentice in a very, very long time. You started to spend great lengths of time together, filled with laughs and debates and companionship. He's not sure when exactly it was that you had wormed so deeply into his heart that now it ached anytime you were no longer near.

Solomon watches you now from a distance. The town is bustling on this rainy evening, and he can see you perfectly framed by one of Cafe Lament's windows. The candles and lights surrounding you awash you in a captivating halo-like glow, making you feel even further from his reach. With a wry chuckle, he turns away.

"Solomon!"

He hadn't made it very far before he hears your voice, his heart skipping a beat. He musters his usual smile as he turns towards you, but is caught by surprise as you throw your arms around him.

"Where have you been? I swear it's been so hard to get a hold of you lately." You squeeze him for a moment before pulling back to examine his face. "Is everything okay?"

"Ah, yes, just … been busy with some research projects, that's all." Solomon finds himself wanting to sink into your embrace, his conflicting emotions battling in his chest. No, he shouldn't want this. You deserved better than him.

"Is that all?" You question, eyes narrowing. "Something is on your mind, I can tell."

You had become awfully good at reading him, despite his constant attempts to hide behind his well-crafted mask. But how could he tell you? That he had become dependent on your warmth? That you were too good for him? That he was scared of losing you one day whether to his secrets or to your mortal life, leaving him all alone again?

"It's nothing, really. Just tired." His hand comes up to cup your cheek, thumb brushing away droplets of water on your skin from the light rain. "Sorry if I made you worry."

"Hm." You don't seem entirely convinced, but to his relief, you accept it. "Well then, guess I'll just have to help you get some rest."

Before he can answer, your lips find his in a slow, languid kiss. He sighs into it, his arms coming to hold you close as he gives in. As the world fades away, so do his concerns — right now, all he wants is to feel you in his arms and pretend like you were the only two humans left in the universe. In this moment, at least, he'd allow himself this selfishness.

[solxamber]

Has anyone requested: Diasomnia, 3, hurt/comfort yet? If not may I request it?

Strength to Believe || Sebek Zigvolt

For the Holiday Event! || Prompt: "I'll always be here" ; Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Sebek's sword sliced through the air with relentless precision, yet his expression remained taut with frustration. The training grounds, bathed in the golden light of dawn when he started, were now drenched in the pale glow of moonlight.

He had been practicing the same intricate moveset for hours, his determination unyielding despite the clear strain on his body.

From your spot near the sidelines, you watched him with unwavering focus. You'd been there the entire day, offering cheers, water, and snacks at intervals, though Sebek barely acknowledged your presence.

"Don’t overdo it, Sebek," you’d called earlier, only for him to reply, “I must master this, for Master Malleus deserves no less than perfection!”

As the hours stretched on and fatigue set in, his strikes grew sloppier, his movements less precise. Even so, Sebek pushed himself forward, the fire of his ambition refusing to dim.

It was nearing 3 a.m. when he finally executed the sequence flawlessly. His blade danced through the air, his footwork aligned with perfect grace. When he stopped, chest heaving, the realization that he’d done it slowly dawned on him.

“That was incredible!” you exclaimed, rushing to him with a wide grin. Before he could react, you wrapped your arms around him in a jubilant hug. “You did it, Sebek! I knew you could!”

Sebek stiffened in your embrace, his cheeks warming at your proximity. As he looked down at you, exhausted and flushed but beaming with pride for him, something unfamiliar twisted in his chest.

He replayed the day in his mind—the times he dismissed your encouragements, brushed off your care as unnecessary, simply because you were human. Yet you had stayed. You had believed in him.

“Why?” he muttered, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Hm?” You tilted your head up at him, still smiling.

“Why have you stayed here all this time?” Sebek asked, his voice uncharacteristically soft, almost vulnerable. “I… I have not been kind to you. I’ve called you ‘just a human,’ dismissed your words, and yet… you stayed. You cheered for me. You believed in me.”

Your expression softened, and you reached up to cup his cheek. He froze, wide-eyed, as your thumb brushed against his skin.

“Because I care about you, Sebek,” you said simply, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “I know how hard you work, how much you want to prove yourself. I’ll always be here to support you. No matter what.”

Your words struck him like a blessing, one he felt deeply unworthy of. His throat tightened, and for once, he had no retort, no haughty remark about his devotion to Lord Malleus. Instead, he swallowed hard and nodded, his usual bravado replaced by quiet gratitude.

“…Thank you,” he murmured, his voice trembling slightly. “For believing in me. For staying.”

You smiled, your fingers brushing his cheek once more before you dropped your hand. “Always,” you promised.

Sebek let out a shaky breath, his heart pounding in a way that had nothing to do with his hours of training. As he looked at you—your tired yet radiant expression, your unwavering support—he felt an unfamiliar warmth take root in his chest.

And for the first time, he wondered if his greatest strength wasn’t just his swordsmanship, but the person who stood beside him, believing in him when he struggled to believe in himself.

Masterlist

[luimagines]

Link, shut up and kiss me.

Another Commission!

They asked for Time, Twilight, and Warrior with the phrase above.

Masterlist

Enjoy!

Content under the cut!

Time

It was nearing sunset when you were called to follow your husband on some stroll through the forest. The dwindling sunlight draped itself over the trees and sparkled downward to illuminate the bits of dust and leaf particles that would otherwise have been naked to the human eye. The sunset had turned the earth pink. It would have been lovely to see, had Link not steadily led you deeper and deeper into the forest. The shadows progressively got darker and darker. The animals got quieter and somehow more foreign to your senses.

A consistent stream of anxiety began to creep into your body. You didn’t want to look like a scaredy cat but you couldn’t ignore how you were scanning your surroundings more and more frequently.

Link for his part, didn’t look bothered at all. 

“Is there any reason we’re doing this?” You looked around the crooked trees and subconsciously took a step closer to Link. Nowadays he was going by the name Time, if only to avoid confusion with the other eight Links that have been his traveling companions in the past months.

You’re not entirely sure how they found each other. Link hadn’t told you the exact details but then again, you trusted his judgment. You knew that he went through a lot of trouble to keep you, and by extension, all of Hyrule safe. There was a lot of darkness that he unfortunately had been privy to. He had used himself as the filter of a lot of wicked visions and realities that he had guarded you from. 

It had taken its toll on him.

There were countless nights when you could hear him grunting and whimpering in his sleep. The demons refused to leave him alone even then. He’d woken up screaming more than once and each time you had taken it upon yourself to calm him down and soothe him back to sleep. It hurt, knowing that despite all his efforts and strength, Link wasn’t strong enough to defeat the monsters in his own head. To add salt to the wound, you knew there was nothing you could do about it except hum a lullaby and hold him just a little bit tighter.

Still, Link did his best to keep the evil away from you.

There was a moment of silence where Link held his hand up and you paused behind him. He waited, searching for some hidden clue before reaching for your hand. “We’re doing this just to take a moment to breathe,” He gives you a cheeky wink. “Is it so wrong to merely want a moment with my darling, away from prying eyes?”

“That’s not what I was asking and you know it.” You give him a playfully flat look. “We didn’t have to travel this far to get away from the boys. I’m sure if we asked nicely they would have found a way to entertain themselves without us.”

Link rolled his eyes, squeezing your hand in his. “I didn’t want to take any chances.”

“Alright, fine, but you still haven’t told me whatever it is you have planned.”

“It’s called a surprise, my love.”

You tried your hardest not to pout. It wasn’t often Link got this playful. While he wasn’t usually grumpy on a good day, (despite what the other Links may have tried to convince you of), he didn’t usually like to keep you in the dark if it involved get-away plans either. On one hand, part of you was glad that he seemed less stressed enough to play with you this way. It was cute and made him look ten years younger. On the other hand, you were annoyed and feeling nosey as hell. You wanted to know! Why is he keeping these sorts of secrets from you? Now? Of all times!

Link, for all his perception, obviously notices that you’re being a tad petulant. He laughs as quietly as he can under his breath before tugging you along again. “This way. We’re almost there.”

You bit your tongue, otherwise you would have stuck it out at him. You can feel Link’s smirk on his face, and frankly, you don’t care for it.

Within seconds, Link moves a branch out of the way, revealing a babbling brook with a picnic blanket on the ground. There’s a picnic basket filled to the brim with goodies and treats alike and a very expensive bottle of wine. You didn’t even drink! Where did he find the time to do all of this?

Your heart swelled, wiping off the minor irritation from his earlier teasing. “...Oh Link… How did you-? Where did-? Why-?”

“I’ve missed you.” He says softly, gently tugging you closer. “Getting your letters isn’t the same as actually talking to your face. I’ve missed your laugh and your smile. I’ve missed holding you in my arms. I’ve missed waking up next to your face every morning. I don’t want you to think I’ve forgotten about you while I’m out traveling to protect our home-”

“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You blurt, cutting him off at once.

Smirking, Link pulls you flush against his chest, cupping your jaw with his free hand. Leaning down, he tilts your head just enough to close the distance easier. A breath passes and the air leaves your lungs. Link presses his lips to yours with retrained hunger. There’s a depth that warns you of the impending desperation behind his touch. His touch is firm but not painful. You reciprocate in kind, clutching onto the front of his shirt as your knees begin to buckle from underneath you.

Link pulls away first, letting go of your hand to wrap it around the small of your back. There’s a delight clean in his eyes. His eyes have gone stormy and borderline sultry. “Not to cut it short, my love, but if I don’t restrain myself, I fear we won’t be leaving this little slice of paradise any time soon.”

Wordlessly, you nod. How lovely. 

Twilight 

“Link?” You quietly call out to The Rancher.

The group decided to take a break for a day or two purely to regroup and regenerate their forces before continuing on the next leg of their journey. It would have been fine and dandy to get more supplies and rest your feet if Twilight hadn’t been acting… strange.

He’d been distant and distracted.

It was worrying, to say the least. Granted, it wasn’t as if he was a man of many words. Twilight, you’ve noticed, was a bigger man of action than you’ve ever had the privilege to meet in your life. On top of that, silence was commonplace among anyone in the group named Link, but lately, it was heavier when you stood next to him. Pensive. Lost in thought.

You didn’t want to pry. It wasn’t like it was any of your business.

But you were nosey as hell.

I mean- you care about him! Of course! Naturally, that was the bigger- the biggest reason you wanted to ask him what was up. If something was bothering him you wanted to know and you wanted to help him.

Sure.

After everyone had checked into the inn and had settled for the night, you found that you couldn’t get your brain to shut up. Twilight had been the last to get one to go to bed and you weren’t entirely sure that he followed through with his promise to head to bed anytime soon.

You walked into the lobby of the inn and found The Rancher resting on one of the provided chairs. Lo and behold, he was still very much awake and staring off into the fireplace that the inn had kept lit just for him.

You don’t think he heard you call for him.

“Twilight.” You try again, moving to stand by his side. Bending your knees, you squat next to his chair so you’d be able to look up and meet his gaze better. “Hey. I think it’s past your bedtime, Rancher. What are you doing still up?”

He took a breath and looked over to you. His eyes widened and he leaned back as if noticing your presence for the first time. He said your name under his breath and it sent goosebumps down your spine. He didn’t have to say it like a prayer.

You gulped and nodded. Yes. That was your name. You asked him a question.

He responded in kind and shook his head free of the thoughts in his head. Twilight opened his mouth to question your intentions but you beat him to the punch.

“What’s going on, Link? Don’t lie to me.”

His eyes widened once more and he cleared his throat. “Do you… Do you ever think that maybe-... Nevermind, it’s stupid.”

“No, tell me.” You stressed, putting your hand on his knee. “You’ve been all out of sorts lately. It’s had me worried.”

“Really?” Twilight turned back to you. “Was I that obvious?”

“You lack subtlety Link.”

“...Oh…”

You wait for him to continue. He doesn’t. If anything, it looks at war with himself. He opens his mouth multiple times, looking back and forth between you and his lap. He’s silent. Multiple minutes passed as he tried to get his thoughts in order. You were willing to wait for him to make headway with his thoughts. There was no use pushing him before he was ready.

“I think I’m in love with you,” He blurts.

You fall backward onto your butt.

Twilight coughed, blushing a bright red that traveled all the way up to the tips of his ears.

“L-Look, I’m not going to pressure you or anything.” He stumbled into an unwarranted explanation. “I’ve been trying to think this through and I’m aware this isn’t exactly the most opportune moment to say this or admit this and we still have a job to do so this is arguably the last place for a relationship. But I don’t even know if you want a relationship or if you even think about me that way-”

Your jaw slowly dropped as he continued to verbally barf into the space. You couldn’t get a word out otherwise. He just kept talking.

“And then there’s Midna and everything that she was to me.” Twilight desperately runs his hands through his hair. “I almost feel like I’m betraying her and everything I stood for at the time but this is different. It feels different. You’re different. It’s stronger. All-encompassing. From the top of my head to my toes, this is a drowning sensation of ever-loving need and I don’t know what to do with myself. I don’t know how to stop it. I don’t know if I want to stop it.”

“Link-”

“And you’re so beautiful.” He shakes his head, ruffling his hair roughly. “And I’m a shotgun nobody from the deep ends of the country-”

“Link-”

“How do I even begin to start with how amazing you are? With how talented and great and absolutely breathtaking-”

“Link, shut up and kiss me.” You grab the front of his shirt and tug him closer to you. 

Twilight completely freezes on the spot, staring in your eyes like a fish out of water.

A beat passes.

Then a second.

And then he surges forward, scooping you up from the ground and placing you in his lap with very little issue. One hand stayed by your hip while the other caressed your jaw. His touch was soft, tentative, like handling fine china.

You, however, had no such reservations.

You weren’t about to let this hunk of a man slip through your grapes and allow his self-doubt to dictate what happened next. You wanted to eliminate any sort of inquiry about where you stood from his mind. You wanted him. You have been wanting him.

You undoubtedly returned his kiss with more passion than he had anticipated. After a second of scrambling to match your energy, Twilight finally got with the program.

You had absolutely zero regrets.

Warrior

“Why would you do this?” You hissed, vibrating from the sheer force of will you exerted over your body to keep from throttling the man in front of you. “Didn’t you say that we had a plan? Weren’t you yelling at me earlier about sticking to the plan we came up with?”

“Things got… complicated…” Warrior sighed, rubbing his temple. He had taken a gnarly hit to the head and it wasn’t going to do anyone any good if he had a concussion. The sight made your heart ache, but it was also fully brought upon him by himself. “...The plan needed… last-minute reconfigurations.”

You growled and ruffled your hair violently. This was the farthest thing from ideal. You were both in the middle of nowhere and there was no sign of any villages or fairy fountains.

You had both set off to scout ahead before anyone arrived to survey the land. Your efforts were more or less fruitless. It was a mountain range with countless dips and swells that held more hidden threats than you were able to avoid.

The plan had been to stay out of as much as possible and to not engage in any fights or battles if you could help it. That being said, that didn’t account for any hidden threats or monsters that were laid in an ambush. You would have thought that would have been what had caused Warrior’s injury. Nope! It was far more simple, and frankly, far more stupid than that.

Frustrations aside, the land was beautiful. It struck you as odd that this mountain range would cease to exist by the time your Hyrule came into fruition. There were hundreds of maple trees scattered about that gave the earth an absolute darling shade of red as the sun traveled across the sky. A gentle, if bitterly cold breeze shook the leaves from their branches, sending them to flutter through the air in their dance to the ground.

You throw your pack onto the dirt and begin to rifle through it. You needed to find something, anything! You didn’t want to deal with Warrior while he dealt with his concussion. You weren’t entirely sure if it was bleeding, but given that his golden blond hair hadn’t been stained yet, you were willing to bet a pretty rupee that it wasn’t as bad as you had initially feared.

You cursed your luck. You had no potions, no painkillers, and no bandages at all. You could have hit yourself. Weren’t you warned by the Vet to pack extra of everything on the off chance something gets lost or stolen? Granted, neither of those things was stolen or lost, they were simply used up and not restocked. You had only yourself to blame.

“I blame you,” You tell Warrior, giving him a sideways glare. “Tell me why you thought it was a good idea to do a double backflip off a rock, then proceed to slip on the landing and hit your head on the very same rock.”

Warrior groaned loudly and rubbed the goose egg that was thankfully hidden under his hair. “Well, for starters, it’s not like I intended to slip. I had the full intention of landing that flip.”

“Ok… So, tell me again why you didn’t.”

“...”

“...”

“I may be in need of new boots.”

“Oh shut up! That wasn’t the problem I was trying to highlight! You shouldn’t have done it to begin with! We knew it had been raining earlier.” You shout, watching unapologetically as Warrior winces at the sound. You huff and helplessly turn in circles, trying to spot something in the distance where you could go. But you don’t see anything despite turning around multiple times. It feels demoralizing. 

Sighing, you walk over to Warrior and wrap your arms around his middle for safekeeping. You’re not entirely sure how steady he is on his feet and you don’t need to risk him slipping and hitting his head again. 

He tries to push you off but you’re not having it. After getting swiped at no less than three times, you poke his stomach eliciting a soft ‘oof’ from him as a result. “Stop squirming. I can’t trust you to not get hurt again and we’re not in the position to take any more chances.”

Warrior puffs up, offended and indignant. “I’m the captain and leader of the entire royal battalion-” 

“And you nearly tried to crack your skull open with no one around to impress,” You hiss and jostle him to prove a point. “Tell me you didn’t think that I would find that particularly impressive.”

Warrior stays silent.

“Oh for Nayru’s sake,” You grumble, shaking your head exasperatedly. You adored Link, truly you did, but your tolerance of shenanigans could only contain so much before you’ve reached your limit. Since then, Warrior decided, (or rather he gathered that he wasn’t going to win the upcoming argument any time soon), that it was better to not engage in a verbal sparring match about his stupid decisions and that his safety would depend on keeping his mouth shut for the time being.

Walking beside him, side to side, was actually quite nice, you admitted to yourself. He was warm, lean but not without the feeling of power he carried beneath his skin. You never had a reason to be this close to The Captain so this was a pleasant surprise. Warrior leaned against you, favoring a leg no doubt as you walked. You wanted to stop and yell at him again for hiding it, but there wasn’t much that would change if you decided to follow through with that thought.

There was still no hope of rescue or hiding civilization to get him treated. Feeling antagonized, you managed to maneuver the both of you into a cave and set him down. Without another word, you got to work on making a fire to warm you both against the chill of the stone. Warrior hissed softly as he rested his body and he was beginning to look a little worse for wear.

‘The pain must be finally settling into his body,’ you think to yourself as you watch him from the corner of your eyes. With a sigh, you try once again, in vain, to look through your pack for anything that could help him.

Nothing.

“...Oh wow…” Warrior says breathlessly. “You look really pretty like that.”

You freeze.

“...”

“...”

“...Excuse me?” You say gently and slowly crawl to his side. As subtly as you could, you look over the side of his head.

“Next to the firelight,” Warrior says, adjusting his position against the stone wall of the cave. “It made your hair glow and your eyes sparkled. There were flecks of gold that shimmered and shined. It was pretty. You looked pretty.”

“H-hush,” You ran a hand through his hair to check the damage. The swelling had begun to settle at long last. “It’s the concussion talking. You don’t mean it.”

“My filter is busted but my thoughts are valid,” He growls under his breath. “I’m not sure how I’m going to think of this when I gather my wits about me this time tomorrow. But I’m certain enough now to not regret my words.”

You flush against your will. You couldn’t stop it. You turn your face away from the fire to hide in the shadows. You pray it would be enough for him to not notice the way his words had affected you.

“The pink looks cute on you too.”

Too late.

“OH-! Shut up.” You huff and spin back to him. “You’re cheating. That’s not fair.”

“Cheating for being honest?” Warrior gets a boyish smirk on his face. It’s lethal damage. “For giving you a compliment?”

“Shut.”

“Can you at least look at me?”

“Nope.”

“Please?” He says sweetly.

“Shut up.” You say weakly, turning to face him anyway. “Shut up and kiss me before I do something stupid.”

Warrior laughs and tugs you closer by your sleeve. “You have to come closer. I can’t move much like this.”

With a small whine, you scoot even closer, letting him move you the way he wants before he gently presses his lips to yours. Something tells you that perhaps you shouldn’t take advantage of the situation like this. He still took a hit to the head. That hasn’t changed in the past hour.

Still, Warrior tugs you impossibly closer, snaking his hand from your arm and into your hair. The slight tug catapults the thoughts from your mind as you sink deeper into his arms. Your hands come up to cradle his face and pull him closer as well. Right as you feel the need to pick up speed, he pulls back, a pure, satisfied smile full of male pride dancing on his lips.

The look would have had you buckling at the knees if Warrior hadn’t decided it was a good moment to break the silence. 

“Enjoy yourself?”

You nearly smack him in the head again.

[thomamaru]

Brushed Numbers and Lingering Words

Synopsis: You were always admired by others by your sharp analysis in English. Rin itoshi, on the other hand, was known for his swift math solving skills. So what would happen if you both ended up on the same team for a quizbee? Chaos.

Tags: Rin Itoshi x gn!reader, sarcastic Rin, academic rivals trope, lotssss of teasing from Rin, fluff

The announcement came abruptly during homeroom, and with it, a new responsibility you hadn’t expected.

“The school has chosen two representatives for this year’s quiz bee,” the teacher began, her tone as bright as a fresh cup of coffee. “(Y/N), for humanities, and Rin Itoshi, for mathematics and sciences.”

Your head snapped up. You glanced around, wondering if there’d been some mistake.

Rin Itoshi? Seriously?

Rin sat across the room, perfectly composed as though the teacher had just complimented him on his haircut rather than volunteered him for a major academic event. His teal eyes met yours briefly, his expression unreadable, before he returned to scribbling in his notebook.

When the bell rang, your curiosity got the best of you. You hesitantly approached him.

“So… looks like we’re partners.”

Without so much as glancing up, Rin replied, “Partners? That makes it sound like we’re splitting the work evenly.”

Your brows furrowed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I’ll handle the important stuff,” he said, finally looking at you with a faint smirk. “You know, things that don’t involve reciting poetry.”

“Wow,” you deadpanned, crossing your arms. “Do you always have this much charm, or is it just for me?”

“Depends,” he replied casually, closing his notebook with a light thud. “Do you always take everything personally, or is it just because you know I’m right?”

You blinked, momentarily stunned into silence. This was going to be a long partnership.

---

The first training session in the library was about as smooth as you expected—which was to say, not smooth at all.

“You know, you could try to take this seriously,” you said as Rin flipped through a set of sample questions, barely paying attention.

“I am taking it seriously,” he replied, setting the packet down. “I’m just not panicking, unlike you.”

“I’m not panicking,” you snapped, though the furrow in your brow betrayed you.

Rin tilted his head, regarding you with a mixture of amusement and exasperation. “Right. You’re completely calm. That’s why you’re holding that pen like you’re about to duel someone.”

Your grip on the pen immediately loosened, and Rin chuckled under his breath.

The two of you fell into a rhythm of reluctant cooperation. Despite his irritating sarcasm, Rin was sharp, dissecting complex problems with ease. And despite his dismissive attitude, he listened—though he rarely admitted it—whenever you pointed out gaps in his reasoning.

But it was the accidental touches that threw you off.

Your hands brushed when you both reached for the same sheet of paper, and the contact sent an unexpected spark through your chest. A quiet “sorry” escaped his lips, and for a brief moment, you thought you caught a flicker of hesitation in his usually confident eyes.

It was nothing. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

---

As the day of the quiz bee approached, you found yourself pacing outside the classroom, clutching your notes nervously. The responsibility of representing the school suddenly felt much heavier than you’d anticipated.

“Are you planning to wear a hole in the floor?”

Rin’s voice startled you out of your thoughts. He stood a few feet away, hands tucked casually into his pockets.

You opened your mouth to retort but hesitated, glancing at the water bottle in his hand. “What’s that for?”

“For you,” he said, holding it out. “You look like you’re about to faint. Can’t have you passing out before the competition.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, crossing your arms. But when he didn’t move, you reluctantly took the bottle.

“Thanks,” you said, your voice softer. After a moment, you added, “Good luck, by the way.”

Rin’s lips quirked into the faintest smirk. “We don’t need luck,” he said. “We’ve got my brains and… whatever it is you bring to the table.”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t stop the small smile that tugged at your lips.

---

The auditorium buzzed with anticipation, and you felt your nerves coil tighter with every passing minute. As the participants were seated, Rin leaned closer, his teal eyes sharp with amusement.

“You’re shaking,” he observed, his voice low enough for only you to hear.

“I’m not—”

“Yes, you are,” he interrupted. “Relax. We’ve got this.”

His voice was steady, almost calming, and you found yourself nodding despite the teasing.

When the questions started, everything faded except the two of you. Rin handled math and science questions with a precision that left you momentarily speechless, his solutions flowing so naturally it was almost mesmerizing.

“Focus,” he murmured, nudging you lightly when a question in your area came up.

You answered confidently, earning an approving nod from him. “Not bad,” he said, the corner of his mouth twitching upward.

The quiz bee continued, the two of you working together seamlessly despite your differences. Each small interaction—a shared glance, a subtle brush of hands—felt like a thread tying you closer together.

---

When the results were announced, you and Rin were just one point shy of first place.

“We were so close!” you said, laughing despite yourself.

Rin’s brows furrowed as he scanned through the score sheet, his analytical mind already dissecting what might have gone wrong. “One point,” he muttered, his tone laced with frustration.

“Hey,” you said, nudging him lightly. “It’s not the end of the world. We still did great.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening. “You’re taking this a lot better than I expected.”

“Maybe because I enjoyed it,” you admitted with a small smile. “Working with you, I mean. It was… fun.”

---

“Fun,” he repeated, as though the word was foreign to him. But the faint smile tugging at his lips told you he didn’t disagree.

---

The week following the quiz bee, you expected life to return to normal. To your surprise, the school had other plans.

By Monday, posters of the quiz bee results were plastered in the hallways. Your names were printed in bold letters—Rin Itoshi and (Y/N)—Second Place Winners! Teachers spoke of it during class, while students congratulated you both whenever they passed by.

“Looks like we’re the new school celebrities,” you joked to Rin as you walked together toward an assembly.

Rin shrugged, unbothered. “They’ll forget about it in a week.”

“I don’t know,” you teased. “Some people are really excited to know you’re good at more than soccer.”

“Don’t push it,” he said dryly, but there was a faint, amused glint in his eyes.

When you reached the auditorium, a staff member gestured for the two of you to come up onstage. A podium had been set up with a banner behind it that read, "Congratulations, Quiz Bee Participants!" The school wanted to make the most of your achievement.

As you walked up, Rin let out a barely audible sigh. “This is unnecessary,” he muttered.

“It’s just a picture,” you whispered back. “Smile, and we’ll get this over with.”

Once onstage, a student photographer directed you both to stand beside the podium. You positioned yourself on one side, with Rin on the other.

“Ready?” the photographer called out, adjusting the camera.

You turned toward the camera but hesitated when you caught a glimpse of Rin in the corner of your eye. Unlike his usual aloof self, he actually looked… relaxed. He even had a faint smile on his face, which somehow made you look longer than you intended.

That’s when Rin noticed.

“What?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Nothing,” you said quickly, redirecting your gaze. But the teasing smirk creeping onto his lips made it clear he didn’t believe you.

As the photographer called for final adjustments, Rin suddenly reached out and brushed something near your temple.

“Your hair,” he said simply, fixing a stray strand with surprising gentleness.

The soft touch sent a jolt through you. Your breath hitched, and before you could react, Rin looked back toward the camera.

The photographer clicked the shutter just in time to capture the aftermath—Rin, standing tall with a small but confident smile, and you, completely flustered as you looked up at him instead of the lens.

“Great shot!” the photographer exclaimed, unaware of the flurry of emotions in your chest.

You climbed down the stage after Rin, trying to gather your thoughts. “What was that about?” you asked, slightly out of breath.

“What was what about?” he replied nonchalantly, glancing at you with feigned innocence.

“The hair thing!” you blurted, your cheeks warming.

“Oh, that.” He shrugged. “It was bothering me.”

“You could’ve just said something,” you muttered, still flustered.

“Would you have fixed it yourself if I did?” he countered, smirking. When you stayed quiet, he added, “Didn’t think so.”

Despite his usual teasing, there was a subtle warmth in his voice. You couldn’t tell if he was doing this on purpose or if Rin Itoshi really was this obliviously charming.

---

Later that day, the photo from the assembly was pinned on the school’s bulletin board. It didn’t take long for students to notice the details.

“Is (Y/N) looking at Rin in this picture?” one whispered.

“And Rin’s smiling?! I didn’t even know he could smile,” another chimed in.

You buried your face in your hands as you overheard the gossip. Rin, on the other hand, seemed unbothered as usual.

“What’s the big deal?” you mumbled when you caught up to him after class.

He tilted his head, smirking. “You’re overthinking again.”

“That’s easy for you to say.”

“Relax,” he said, his voice unusually soft. “It’s just a picture. Besides…” He paused, the corner of his mouth lifting slightly. “You didn’t look bad.”

Your heart stuttered at the unexpected compliment, but before you could say anything, he added:

“Just try not to get a big head over it.”

And with that, Rin walked away, leaving you to wrestle with the mix of emotions he always seemed to stir.

You were just his partner for a school event.

Days passed, but the memory of the quiz bee lingered. In class, Rin couldn’t help but steal glances at you, his mind replaying moments he thought he’d brushed off.

That’s all it was.

And yet, when your laugh echoed across the hallway, or your hand brushed his while passing a note, Rin found his thoughts straying in ways he couldn’t quite explain.

And though he would never admit it, the memory of your shared moments during the quiz bee was one he wouldn’t forget anytime soon.

A/n: this story might be based on my own experience,,, :P

[silkscream]

CHAPTER 17: FORCE OF NATURE

ੈ✩ gojo satoru x reader

ੈ✩ chapter cw/tags: angst, vaginal sex, rough sex, prone-bone, dubcon

ੈ✩ wc: 6.9k

ੈ✩ a/n: there's your dinner

playlist ✸ read on ao3 ✸ series masterlist

April, 2010

When Suguru fucks you, lately, he’s gentle.

It’s only slightly unlike him. He’s often pent-up from missions, the same way that Satoru is, but the need instilled in him is different. Quieter. You can’t encapsulate it in words — it’s all feeling.

You think that maybe this is the reason that you sometimes favor him. It makes you feel guilty. Beyond all of Satoru’s faults and flaws, you know that he loves you. It all comes out in jagged, messy ways, but he does.

Being with Suguru alone feels… simpler. There is nothing unkempt about him. Every time he needs you, he never begs. It’s often the other way around.

It’s easy for you to be pliable for him with just a few words. Conversations that make you feel larger than life, faint touches that have your skin shivering. He makes you feel like a girl. Desperate and easily enraptured.

While Satoru is loud and talkative, Suguru is reserved and magnetizing. There are moments in between classes when he takes your hand and lies with you in the grass, sharing soft-spoken jokes and murmurs. There’s always something guarding his mind. You can tell. It only makes you want to pry even more, but Suguru is good at deflecting.

You’d be content to share a bed with him and simply stare at his face for hours. Sometimes, you’re with Satoru and you yearn for that. The things that Satoru babbles on about go through one ear and out the other. His energy is always frenetic whereas yours is starting to feel lethargic.

__

Through early April, cherry blossoms begin to fall, coating the grounds of Jujutsu Tech in a soft pink blanket. You’re surrounded in heaven wherever you are.

Satoru is bombarded with solo missions. Meanwhile, your company is kept with Suguru, who sleeps in your bed with you most nights.

At the moment, you’re tangled with him. The moonlight casts a silvery glow across his features. Sometimes, he doesn’t even look human to you. You could swear that he was sent to Earth as a being born from the stars. You feel pathetic and corny even thinking about it.

Despite being wrapped up in you, his eyes are distant, focused on something beyond the confines of the room. Beyond your reach. Aside from the chorus of cicadas outside, silence stretches between you.

“Suguru,” you whisper, your fingers tracing the line of his jaw. “What are you thinking about?”

He turns to you, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "Nothing important," he murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your forehead.

You're not satisfied with this answer. It's always like this lately - his thoughts locked away behind an impenetrable wall. You sit up, pulling the sheet around you, frustration bubbling up in your chest. The tenderness of moments before evaporates, replaced by a tension that crackles between you like static electricity.

“You’re clearly thinking about something.”

“I’m not,” he answers softly. “Just you. Just thinking about how pretty you are.”

You sigh. “That’s all?”

He gives you a smug grin. “You don’t like being told you’re pretty?”

“I do. Maybe I just want to pick your brain sometimes. Rummage inside of it like a treasure chest.”

He scoffs. “Just because Satoru says everything that’s on his mind doesn’t mean I have to.”

Your face flickers with disappointment at his tone. He probably didn’t mean to sound bitter, but it came out more curt than you expected.

“Don’t you tell him everything on your mind, though?”

“Sometimes, I guess. He’s my best friend.”

Then what am I?

You almost say it out loud.

“Have you talked to him lately?” you ask. “He hasn’t been answering my texts.”

“Shocker,” Suguru replies, a hint of sarcasm laced on his tongue. You frown slightly.

“He always answers.”

“He’s also the strongest,” he snorts. “Can’t always dote on his little wifey, can he?”

“What?”

His smirk falters slightly. “I’m just kidding, baby,” he says softly, kissing your nose. “He’s probably busy or he doesn’t have service.”

“Are you two fighting again?” you blurt out.

Suguru raises a brow in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“I just know that sometimes the two of you argue. And you know, the bruises—”

“The ones from sparring or the ones from sex?”

You’re quiet. Both, you want to say. But then it occurs to you that none of it is particularly your business.

It was always difficult to tell where you stood between the two of them. It was as if you were on a constant current, buoying towards rough waters where you didn’t belong.

“I— um. I don’t know. I just noticed things have been… tense.”

He stares at you blankly. “Things are fine.”

“Are they?” You have the urge to ask him a million questions. Was everything fine? Between him and Satoru, you felt like a thinning rope in a tug of war, but always unsure of who was pulling harder.

“You just seem, I don’t know… off lately,” you continue, mumbling. “I can’t help but wonder if something’s bothering you.”

He pauses before speaking again. “There’s just a lot on my mind.”

“Like what?”

He rolls his eyes and it guts you more than it should. “Just a lot. There’s more cursed user activity, more grueling missions. I’ll probably get assigned more soon.”

“You’re doing it again. Deflecting.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re just—” you sigh, “You're always... guarded. I feel like there's a part of you I can't reach.”

Suguru's expression remains impassive, but you notice the slight tightening of his jaw. He sits up as well, his bare chest gleaming in the dim light. "I've given you all of me that I can."

"Don't do that," you say, your voice sharper than you intend. "Don't brush me off."

"I'm not brushing you off. You’re throwing a tantrum because you’re expecting me to spill all my thoughts like you’re my therapist. Or are you feeling insecure and you want some grand romantic gesture from me? There’s nothing to say either way.”

You blink at him rapidly, hurt by his assumptions.

"I’m not expecting anything," you insist, frustration mounting. "I just… I feel like I barely know you sometimes. I just want to know what’s on your mind.”

“Maybe you won’t understand what’s on my mind,” he mutters. “If I can even put it into words. It’s okay to have different minds, you know. Different world views.”

Your face stings as if he’d just insulted you. You stare at the ceiling. What the hell did that mean? Did he keep things from you because he thought you wouldn’t understand? Did he think you were stupid?

“Okay,” you murmur weakly. “Whatever.”

__

March, 2012

The cherry blossoms are in full bloom again. Their delicate petals drift on the breeze through the window. Whispers of a forgotten spring. The change of the seasons whips you in the face— it had been so cold only a month prior.

You’re glad about it, anyway. February was always brutal. The passing of the 3rd had been awkward— unlike last year, neither you nor Satoru acknowledged the day at all, though you had danced around it as if Suguru’s ghost was following you.

You had flinched all day whenever Satoru spoke to you, as if paranoid he could read your mind.

He’d bombarded your thoughts, reminding you of the last birthday you spent with him. His face when he’d looked through the photo album you’d given him. The way he fucked you like he needed you to breathe.

Selfishly, you hope Suguru still has the photos. An awful part of you even hopes he still looks at them. You wish you’d kept some of them for yourself.

It was a stupid idea not to make copies. At the time, you considered making some to keep for yourself and to give to Satoru, but the keepsake you made for Suguru’s birthday felt like a secret just between them. Satoru hadn’t even thought to inquire about the photos you took anyway.

Often, you imagine them scattered on your walls, the boys teasing you as you decorated. Reminiscing your teenage years together, both of them laughing and joking around at the antics you’d been able to capture.

You make a mental note to purchase another disposable camera again. Satoru’s apartment could use more photographs, and the kids would get a kick out of it. You still haven’t moved in with him, to his chagrin, but you enjoy having your own space despite his qualms about it. It’s the one thing you have to yourself, even if he does pay your rent.

You sit alone on the balcony, a cup of lukewarm tea cradled in your hands, and you think of yourself from one year ago.

There’s a bittersweet ache in your chest. You can’t help but think of a certain dark-haired sorcerer that occupied so much of your time at Jujutsu Tech.

The world changed in his absence— the air heavier, charged with an undercurrent of tension that still hasn’t dissipated. In your head, Suguru Geto is a fleeting memory. A passing dream.

But there are moments when you feel the warmth of his body next to yours. The timbre of his voice. The intensity of his eyes when he looked at you as if he was seeing through you.

You shake the thoughts of him away as you dump your tea and make your way to the school. You have the greenhouse to yourself today.

It feels odd to walk around Jujutsu Tech without the presence of two shadows on either side of you. The slight breeze whips your hair and it makes you think of them — how Suguru would often tuck a flyaway back for you while Satoru would tug at your braid.

Stop thinking about it, you chastise yourself. He’s not dead.

Or maybe he was?

You aren’t sure if a year and a half feels too little or too long. There are dreams you have about crossing paths with Suguru— a raven-haired stranger in the night, a fleeting text message from an unknown number. When you overthink like this, it’s difficult to tell how much you really knew him at all. Were you important enough to even get in contact with again?

Something twists in your stomach when you think about the same hypothetical of Satoru. You think that maybe he would contact Satoru again. Maybe.

You weren’t there for the end. You hadn’t seen them fight, could barely imagine the thought of a tear-stricken, twenty-year-old Satoru begging Suguru for anything. Had they lashed out at each other? Had they said anything about you?

You pause in your work, hands hovering over a delicate orchid. Your insecurities flood back unbidden, vivid, and painful.

The nights you spent alone with Suguru replay in your mind. His guarded expression, the palpable tension between you. If only you'd pushed harder, tried to break through those walls. Maybe things would have been different.

But you didn't. And now he's gone.

A shadow falls across you, and for a moment, you think it's just another cloud passing overhead. But then you feel it - a presence that makes the air around you hum with an electric charge.

A sharp prick of pain jolts you from your reverie. You've pricked your finger on a thorn, a bead of blood welling up. You watch it for a moment, mesmerized by the crimson against your skin.

"Careful there," a familiar voice calls out. "Can't have you bleeding all over the plants."

You turn to see Satoru leaning against the greenhouse door, his presence filling the space as it always does.

"Hey," you say softly. "I thought you had a mission today."

He shrugs, sauntering over to you. "I do, but I wanted to stop by first. Thought I'd surprise you."

There's an awkward beat of silence as he stands beside you, both of you pretending to examine the flowers. You can feel the weight of unspoken words hanging between you.

"You were thinking about him again, weren't you?" Satoru's voice is quiet, lacking its usual bravado.

You don't answer immediately, unsure how to navigate this minefield. "I... it's hard not to sometimes," you admit finally. "Especially here."

Satoru nods, his face inscrutable. "Yeah. I get that."

Another silence stretches between you. You desperately want to ask him about that day, about what really happened. But you're afraid of the answer, afraid of reopening wounds that have barely begun to heal.

"Do you ever wonder..." you begin hesitantly, "if things could have been different? If we'd seen the signs earlier, or—”

“Twigs,” Satoru cuts you off sharply.

You flinch at his tone. “Sorry.”

His expression softens. He reaches out, gently taking your hand in his.

"No, I'm sorry," he murmurs. "I just... I can't think about the what-ifs. It's too much."

You nod slowly. Neither of you really talked about Suguru since he left. It was easier to pretend, to go on as if the gaping hole he left behind didn't exist.

"Do you think he's okay?" you whisper, voicing the fear that's been gnawing at you for months.

Satoru's jaw tightens almost imperceptibly. "He's alive. I'd know if he wasn't."

You nod, not quite sure if you believe him or if he even believes himself.

He sighs, pulling you into a tight embrace. You bury your face in his chest, inhaling the familiar scent of him, and for just a moment, you let yourself be comforted by his presence.

But as you stand there in Satoru's arms, surrounded by the falling cherry blossoms, you can't shake the feeling that something is still missing. That maybe it always will be.

April, 2012

You fumble with your keys, exhaustion weighing heavily on your limbs. The thought of going home to your apartment fills you with dread. You’d gotten into a squabble with Satoru again – asked too many questions about Suguru, your heart flooded with nostalgia.

He wanted to be patient with you, but you were childishly bitter.

As you push open the door, something feels... off. The air inside is charged, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. Your heart begins to race as you cautiously step inside, eyes scanning the darkened room.

"Twigs."

The voice, smooth as silk and familiar, cuts through the silence. You gasp as you whirl around, eyes wide with disbelief.

There, leaning against the wall with an air of casual elegance, is Suguru Geto.

He looks different, yet achingly the same. His hair is longer now, cascading over his shoulders in inky waves. His eyes, once warm and inviting, now hold a sharpness that sends a shiver down your spine. But his smile, that infuriatingly beautiful smile, is exactly as you remember it.

"Suguru," you breathe, barely able to form the word. "How... why are you here?"

He pushes off the wall, moving towards you with fluid grace. "I missed you," he purrs.

Your mind reels, a thousand questions fighting to be asked. But as he draws closer, all you can focus on is the familiar scent of him - sandalwood and something uniquely Suguru. It makes your head spin.

"You can't be here," you whisper, even as your traitorous body leans towards him. "If Satoru finds out–"

"Satoru won't find out," Suguru interrupts, his voice low and soothing. He reaches out, fingers ghosting along your cheek. "I've made sure of that."

You should pull away. You should tell him to leave. But instead, you find yourself leaning into his touch, eyes fluttering.

"I've thought about you every day," Suguru murmurs, his breath warm against your ear. "Have you thought about me?"

"Yes," you admit, the word escaping before you can stop it. "God, yes."

His lips curve into a smile against your skin. "Show me," he whispers.

And just like that, the floodgates open. You crash into him, your lips meeting in a desperate, hungry kiss. It's like coming home and setting yourself on fire all at once. His hands are everywhere, relearning the curves of your body as you cling to him.

You stumble backward, not breaking the kiss until your back hits the wall. Suguru presses against you, his body solid and warm. You gasp as he trails kisses down your neck, teeth grazing your sensitive skin.

When he coos into your ear, it is not his voice, but Satoru’s.

“Twigs.”

Your eyes open abruptly. Sweat trickles down the nape of your neck as you stare into the space of your dark bedroom. Despite hearing Satoru’s voice, he’s nowhere to be found.

You exhale shakily in embarrassment, at how easily the guilt knocked you out of your slumber. 

With trembling hands, you swing your legs over the side of the bed and let them dangle for a moment, grounding yourself in reality. The remnants of the dream still swirl around in your mind like fractals. You blink against the dimness, peeling away from the haze left by sleep.

The gentle hum of silence fills your apartment as you push yourself up to stand on slightly unsteady legs. Each step you take feels heavier than the last; gravity pulling differently somehow.

You feel… odd. You decide to blame it on the unwanted arousal.

When you enter the small kitchen, you distract yourself with your kettle and scan your surroundings blankly. Pastel tiles — faded yet inviting. Drawings on the fridge from the Fushiguro children.

As you wait for the water to boil, you feel a sense of unease — the very same you felt when encountering a curse, though the after-effects of arousal in your body have your stomach curling inside out. Everything is too quiet and too dark.

You hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights, relying on a small nightlight plugged in below your cabinets. You turn to peer into your living room but there’s nothing there.

As you slowly turn your head back to the kitchen, your breath catches in your throat at the silhouette in front of you. The shadow, darker than the surrounding night, detaches itself from the wall. Your heart leaps into your throat, cursed energy crackling at your fingertips instinctively.

But then the figure steps into the moonlight, and your breath catches.

Suguru.

He looks different – thinner, harder somehow. His hair is longer, tied back loosely, and there's a weariness in his eyes that wasn't there before. But it's undeniably him.

He wears a large, black gojo-kesa with yellow and green details. He looks like a dream come to life. He's changed, but he's still breathtakingly beautiful, like a fallen angel come to Earth.

"I’m sorry," he says softly, his voice carrying the same gentle cadence you remember, but now tinged with something darker. "I didn’t mean to scare you."

You want to run. You want to scream. You want to throw yourself into his arms and beg him to explain why he left, why he turned his back on everything– on you. Instead, you remain frozen, your mug trembling in your grasp.

Suguru takes a step closer, and you can see the details of his face more clearly now. You instinctively take a step back, and something flickers in his eyes – hurt, perhaps, or amusement. It's hard to tell with Suguru.

"May I sit?" he asks, gesturing to the space in front of you where your small kitchen table stands.

You nod mutely, unable to form words. He settles next to you, close enough that you can feel the warmth radiating from his body. You smell the familiar scent of sandalwood and something metallic. Blood?

For a long moment, neither of you speak. You continue to drink in the sight of him. He looks out of place in your small apartment, too large and too otherworldly for the mundane space.

"Why are you here?" you finally ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

"I wanted to see you," he says simply, as if it explains everything. As if he hadn't abandoned everything– abandoned you and Satoru – over a year ago.

You take an involuntary step back, your mind reeling. "But you left. You've been gone for over a year. We thought... I thought..."

"That I was dead?" He smirks, but there's no humor in it. "Not quite. Though I suppose in some ways, the person you knew did die."

You scoff, clutching the countertop behind you.

"Why now?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. "Why come back after all this time?"

“This isn’t the first time, exactly.”

You don’t even want to ask what he means.

You shake your head, trying to clear the fog of confusion and longing that threatens to overwhelm you. "You can't be here. Satoru will come back from his mission—"

Suguru's eyes darken at the mention of Satoru's name. "Ah yes, Satoru," he says, a hint of bitterness in his tone. "Always Satoru."

You feel a pang of guilt but push it aside. "Suguru, I—"

He cuts you off with a gentle shake of his head. "No need to explain.”

A heavy silence falls between you, filled with unspoken words and suppressed emotions. You watch as Suguru's gaze drifts to the falling cherry blossoms against the velvet sky outside the window, his expression unreadable.

You sniff. “I thought you were dead at first,” you whisper. “But you’re stronger than that. Always have been.”

“You were upset.”

“Of course I was! I—” you huff, looking away from him.

He turns to look at you fully now, his gaze intense. “You’re still upset.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“There was nothing you could do.”

You wince slightly. It was the same thing that Satoru told you during the fight you had. The one that overwhelmed you with anger, made you walk away. Heat curls within the delicate sternum of your chest. You’ve always been so fucking naive, haven’t you?

“I— I thought—” you trail off. You thought you could’ve done more.

“Would you have come with me?” he murmurs.

The question hangs in the air between you, heavy with implications. You open your mouth to respond but find you have no answer. Would you have gone with him? Left everything behind?

Satoru’s face flashes in your mind.

Suguru seems to read the conflict on your face. He reaches out, his fingers ghosting along your cheek. The touch is feather-light, but it sends electricity coursing through your body.

"I'm not here to cause trouble," he says, his voice low and soothing. "I just... needed to see you. To make sure you were alright."

You lean into his touch despite yourself, closing your eyes briefly. When you open them again, Suguru's face is closer, his eyes searching yours.

"Are you?" he asks. "Alright?"

The question catches you off guard. Are you alright? You've been going through the motions for months now, smiling when expected, and fulfilling your duties. But alright? You're not sure you even remember what that feels like anymore.

"I'm... managing," you reply honestly.

“I missed you,” he sighs. “You have to believe that.”

You want to believe him. God, how you want to. But the pain of his absence, the confusion and betrayal, it all comes rushing back.

"Do you remember our last spring together?" he asks suddenly, his voice soft and wistful. "How we'd lie in the grass for hours, talking about everything and nothing?"

The memory washes over you, bittersweet and painful. "Of course I do," you whisper.

Suguru turns to you, his eyes intense. "I've thought about those moments every day since I left. About you. About the choices I've made."

Your heart races, torn between longing and fear. "Why did you leave?" you ask, the question that's haunted you for over a year finally escaping your lips.

He's quiet for a moment, considering his words carefully. "I… realized Jujutsu society was deeply flawed. I had to act, even if it meant leaving everything behind."

There's a gravity to his words that sends a chill down your spine. "What do you mean?" you whisper, almost afraid to hear the answer.

Suguru's eyes darken, and for a moment you see a flicker of something dangerous, something that wasn't there before. 

"Our world is rotting from the inside out," he says, his voice low and intense. "The higher-ups, the clans, even Jujutsu Tech– they're all part of a system that perpetuates suffering. I couldn't stand by and watch anymore."

His intensity startles you. This isn't the gentle, thoughtful Suguru you remember. There's an edge to him now, a darkness that both frightens and intrigues you.

You shake your head, struggling to process his words. "But... but we help people. We protect them from curses."

"Do we?" Suguru asks, his tone sharp. "Or do we simply maintain a status quo that allows curses to flourish in the first place? Think about it. The more negative emotions in the world, the more curses are born. And what creates those negative emotions? Inequality, injustice, pain– all things that the Jujutsu world turns a blind eye to."

His words stir something inside you, a doubt you've tried to ignore. You think of the missions you've been on, the people you've helped, but also the ones you couldn't save. The systemic issues seemed to persist no matter how many curses you exorcised.

“I’m— I’m not going to be one of your followers,” you say, your voice cracking. You feel tears prickling at the corners of your eyes.

“I wasn’t asking you to be,” he replies coolly. His presence makes you heady with the familiarity of his spell.

“Then why are you here?” You try to sound firm but your voice is barely above a whisper. “How did you even know where I lived?”

“You must know me better than that. You think I wouldn’t be able to find you?”

Your heart jumps at the same time your blood runs cold. You’re almost thrilled that he sought you out, but it couldn’t be like this.

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek, wiping away a tear that you didn’t realize had fallen. The touch is gentle. Familiar. It takes every ounce of willpower not to lean into it and preen into his touch like you always have.

“I did miss you, you know. Don’t think that I didn’t,” he drawls. Suguru’s eyes soften, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of the boy you once knew. “My favorite girl.”

You close your eyes, allowing hot tears to run down your face. The liquid salt cascades in warm streams on your skin.

Suguru's words hang in the air, a mix of bittersweet nostalgia and unspoken longing. You feel the weight of his gaze on you, even with your eyes closed. His thumb brushes another tear from your cheek, the touch achingly tender.

"Twigs," he murmurs, the old nickname rolling off his tongue like honey. "Look at me."

You hesitate, afraid of what you'll see in his eyes, afraid of your own heart's treacherous desires. But you've never been able to resist him, not really. Slowly, you open your eyes, meeting his intense gaze.

He's closer now, close enough that you can see the flecks of gold in his dark irises. His breath ghosts over your skin, sending a shiver down your spine.

"I never wanted to hurt you," he says softly, his voice tinged with regret. "You have to know that."

"But you did," you whisper, your voice cracking. "You left. Without a word, without an explanation. You left me and Satoru and everything we'd built together. I–”

I loved you. We loved you.

Suguru's jaw clenches at the mention of Satoru.

"I couldn't stay. Not after everything I learned, everything I saw. It would have been a lie."

You shake your head, anger and hurt rising in your chest. "And this isn't a lie? Sneaking into my apartment in the middle of the night, touching me like nothing has changed?"

"Everything has changed," Suguru counters, his voice taking on a sharper edge. "The world is not what we thought it was. What I thought it was. I couldn't continue to be a part of a system I no longer believed in."

“You could’ve talked to Satoru and I—”

“If Satoru was in my position, it would be easy for him,” he snaps. “He’d find a way to get you to believe in him. You would probably find a reason anyway.”

“That’s not true!” your voice cracks. “He wouldn’t kill every non-sorcerer—”

“But he could, my sweet girl. You’re blinded by him. You’ve always seen him as a god, haven’t you?”

You shake your head desperately, pathetically. His words make you feel smaller than you’ve ever felt.

You feel the sting of Suguru's words, an accusation wrapped in a painful truth. Your relationship with Satoru has always been complex, the unspoken power dynamic frustrating you throughout the years. But to hear Suguru lay it bare, to twist it into something ugly– it feels like a knife to the heart.

“That’s not fair,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You know there’s more to him than that.”

Suguru's expression hardens, a flicker of something dark and possessive in his eyes. "Satoru will never understand. He's too blinded by his own power, his own sense of righteousness. He can't see the world as it truly is."

You take a step back, shaking your head. "And you can? Suguru, listen to yourself. You wouldn’t—" You choke on the words, unable to say them out loud. "The Suguru I knew would never pick on the weak. He wouldn’t turn his back on—”

Suguru moves forward, closing the distance between you once again. His hand comes up to cup your face, his touch gentle despite the intensity of his gaze. 

"I haven't turned my back on you," he murmurs, his voice low and intimate. "I could never do that. Don't you see? Everything I'm doing, it's for a better world. A world where we can be together without the chains of the Jujutsu society holding us back."

You stare at him, torn between the pull of his words and the screaming warnings in your head. This is wrong. This isn't the Suguru you knew, the gentle, thoughtful boy who held you under the cherry blossoms. But oh, how you want to believe him. How you want to sink into his touch and let the world fall away.

"Suguru..." you breathe, your resolve crumbling.

He leans in, his lips brushing against your ear. 

"Baby," he whispers, his voice a siren's call. "I know you. You’ve gotten stronger. You’re the strongest girl I’ve ever met. I remember that mission in the forest, how you exhausted yourself. You’re so fucking powerful. Don’t you know you could be more than a pawn for the higher-ups? For Satoru?”

“Don’t,” you retort harshly. “I’m not a fucking pawn for anyone and I won’t be one for you.”

Suguru's eyes flash with a mix of surprise and admiration at your fiery response. He leans back slightly, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. "There she is," he murmurs, almost to himself. "That fire. That strength. That's the girl I remember."

You blink rapidly, caught off guard by his reaction. You expected anger, frustration, not this strange sense of pride.

He shakes his head, the smile fading. "You're right. I shouldn't have said that about Satoru. Old habits, I suppose." He sighs, running a hand through his dark hair. "I didn't come here to fight with you or to try to sway you to my side. I just wanted to check on you.”

“I’m fine,” you mutter.

Suguru nods, a rueful smile on his lips. "I suppose I should leave before he comes back? He'd probably try to kill me on sight. Not that I'd blame him."

“He wouldn’t. He would never do that,” you say quickly.

The thought sends a chill through you. The idea of Suguru and Satoru, once inseparable, now on opposite sides of a war you don't fully understand.

“I won't ask you to keep this a secret," Suguru says, as if reading your thoughts. "I won't put you in that position. But I needed you to know...no matter what happens, no matter what you might hear about me, my feelings for you have never changed."

Your heart skips a beat. It's the closest he's ever come to a confession, to putting a name to the unspoken thing that's always simmered between you.

"Suguru..." you begin, but he shakes his head, cutting you off.

"Don't," he says softly. "Don't say anything you might regret. I know where your heart lies, even if you don't fully realize it yourself yet."

He takes a step back, and you feel the loss of his proximity like a physical ache. "I should go," he murmurs.

You close your eyes, tears falling down your face. You don’t even sense his departure. He leaves as quietly as he entered.

__

Satoru is often needy when he comes back to you lately. He hopes to see in his bed, anyway, but doubts it considering your most recent argument he had with you.

It wouldn’t be an unusual occurrence if he found you there–  he often returns from his missions and finds you curled up in his bed. Despite your reservations, you’ve been staying in his room more often. After an intense video game session with the kids or a particularly intense night with him, you don’t bother to make the trip to your apartment downstairs.

In Satoru’s apartment, you have extra skincare products (he bought them) and a toothbrush (it had been sitting in the mug on his counter since you came back to Tokyo. Just in case.).

He comes home at an ungodly time. Nothing was open save for the local konbini and twenty-four diner, neither of which he had any options he wanted. There was no onigiri left, so he snacks on matcha pocky, knowing you’d scold him for it if you were awake.

His heart stops when he opens the door to his bedroom and sees you in his bed. But not just because of how beautiful you look in between his sheets, lit by soft hues by the moon.

But because he smells him.

Satoru can sense the cursed energy on your body. It’s like a perfume that doesn’t belong to your skin, yet he can feel it cling to you.

A rabbit hole opens in his brain, splitting into a black hole as he spirals. He’s been here, maybe in this apartment, and he’s touched you.

You twitch, your lips stuck in a cherubic pout. Satoru wants to bite you.

Selfishly, he does. Canine nipping at the junction of your shoulder. You stir and feel his arms tighten around you.

“Satoru?” you mumble, your voice soft and sleep-laced.

“It’s late,” he whispers. “Go back to sleep.”

But you can’t, not with his teeth on your neck. He licks and kisses the back of your neck with an urgent cadence, almost with frustration. He grabs at your covers impatiently. He only rushes like this when something’s bothering him.

He’d woken you from such a heavy sleep that you’re still adjusting to being conscious. He feels as much as a dream as Suguru standing in your kitchen–

You freeze at the memory.

You make a noise of surprise when you feel his hardness prod at you from behind.

"Satoru," you breathe. "What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer, just presses himself closer, his hand sliding beneath your nightshirt. His touch is electric, sending shivers down your spine. But there's an edge to it, a desperation you haven’t felt from him since you were teenagers.

"Nothing," he murmurs against your skin, but his voice is tight. "I just need you."

You turn in his arms, facing him in the moonlight. His blue eyes are dark, stormy with an emotion you can't quite place. Jealousy? Fear?

"Tell me," you insist, cupping his face.

Satoru hesitates, his jaw clenching.

"Shitty mission,” he mutters. You know he’s lying.

“Satoru," you start, but he cuts you off with a bruising kiss. You imagine in combat, fighting curses with the same kind of aggression. The thought sours in your brain but warms the animal of your body. He felt the same as he did when he was nineteen.

His knuckles graze underneath your panties, the silver ring you’d given him cold against the skin of your inner thigh.

I have to get you a matching one now, he’d joked weeks prior. Then we’ll be engaged.

You knew without a doubt he was dead serious.

He bites your shoulder again and pushes you onto your stomach. Reflexively, you push your ass and feel his hard cock between the offending fabric of his boxers. When had he undressed?

“Please,” he breathes into your ear.

You don’t respond. You simply push down your underwear, already drenched from his jagged kisses. 

He grunts as he pushes into you. You wince at the thickness, stinging just barely from the lack of prep. His large hand pushes your shirt up from beneath you to grope at your tits. His other hand snakes in between your legs to rub at your puffy clit.

You gasp at how heavy he feels inside of you. Each snap of his hips feels harsher than the last.

“Couldn’t stop thinking about this,” Satoru mutters, as if to himself. “About fucking you.”

You whimper in response.

“Yeah? You missed my cock inside you?”

“Yes,” you choke out.

“You sure? No one beat me to it, already?” His voice is slightly bitter, so low and buried in your shoulder blade that you almost don’t catch it.

Your eyes widen. You turn slightly to see his blue eyes nearly glowing in the moonlight, brows furrowed as he focuses on his hard thrusts.

“Satoru, I–”

“Wouldn’t blame him. I’d miss this cunt, too, if I was gone for a year and a half.”

“I–I didn’t—”

“Do you think about him when I’m inside you?” 

His face is scarily neutral even though he’s fucking you so rough. Each time he knocks into you, it takes your breath away, your pussy tightening at how impossibly deep he is.

“No,” you whimper.

“It’s okay if you do,” Satoru laughs bitterly. “I think about him too. Both of you.”

You moan softly as he lifts your hips and drives into you deeper.

“You thought I wouldn’t be able to smell him? Feel his residuals all over you?” he grunts. His teeth are bared as he fucks you. Sex-starved. Part animal, part god.

You don’t have it in you to respond. You can’t think of anything when he gets like this, the undulating motion of his cock molding your insides to him and him alone. 

He groans in pleasure, his hand a soft noose around your neck as he lifts you up by the chin. He turns your face over your shoulder so he can kiss you roughly, teeth on your bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. It’s all making you dizzy.

Your pussy constricts around him. You think you hear him laugh breathily. He presses down on your lower back at the same time you close your legs. He drives into you, your cunt tight and snug. 

Satoru coaxes a thumb in your mouth and it makes the thread of desire in your gut fray. It’s so close to snapping. You can feel yourself about to cum.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he rasps. “That’s it. Fuck.”

A whine is pulled from your throat when the pressure inside of you blows over. Your pussy constricts around him and his thrusts get rougher. Meaner. 

Your dry throat feels like it’s on fire, your body wrung out with tiredness and ecstasy all at once. He fills you to the brim, finally, cursing as he buries his face into your hair.

For a moment, the dark room is filled with exhales and nothing else. You wince when he pulls out of you. He sits on his knees and soothes a hand on your back underneath your shirt.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

You turn to face him. “I liked it.”

“You know what I mean,” he swallows.

You nod slowly. The two of you stare at each other for what feels like an eternity.

“It wasn’t what you think.” Not a betrayal. Barely a rendezvous.

Satoru exhales, his mouth in a taut line. “Did he hurt you?”

Neither of you could say his name. It had always bothered you that Satoru would never say his name,

“No. You know he wouldn’t.”

“I know.”

You lick your lips nervously. “He said he missed me. And that he came to check on me. I asked him why he left.”

“And?”

“It was probably all the same stuff he told you.”

Satoru’s face stays eerily calm. “Alright.”

“You’re… not upset? Or mad?”

His face softens at how terrified you look. “No, baby. I’m not.”

Without a word, he goes to the bathroom. You lie on your back and stare at the ceiling. You feel sick, suddenly. As if something has shifted the atmosphere entirely.

You’re almost asleep when Satoru returns. He brings a warm towel in between your legs and kisses both of your knees. You keep your eyes closed– you can’t bear to look at his eyes right now.

He’s glad for it. You’re unable to tell that his eyes are a little red, soul-weary.

As he rests beside you, arm draped over your waist, you feel his warm breath on your neck whispering, “I love you.”

[sikyulioness]

Heyyyyy, I love your stories. ❤❤❤❤

The first and second ones make my heart ache 🥺🥺.

Anyway, can you write a Jinwoo x reader where the reader is a cat that Jinwoo picked up and raised, then suddenly one day the cat turns into a human???

HOPE YOU HAVE A NICE DAY!!✨

✨Of course here you go I hope you like it✨

My Master, My Love

A Solo Leveling Jinwoo x Reader Story

---

It had started with a storm.

The rain had been relentless that night, drumming against the pavement as a lone figure hurried through the streets. Sung Jinwoo, now hailed as the world's strongest Hunter, barely flinched at the downpour. What was a little rain compared to the dungeons he had conquered?

But then, something made him pause.

A faint, pitiful sound—a meow.

He turned toward a dimly lit alleyway, where a tiny, shivering cat huddled against the wall, drenched and weak. His brows furrowed. The rational part of him told him to move on. He wasn’t exactly a pet person. He had a sister to take care of and a life filled with battles.

Yet, before he even realized it, he was crouching down, reaching out to the trembling creature.

“Hey there,” he murmured.

Golden eyes peered up at him, filled with a strange intelligence that made his chest tighten. Without thinking further, he picked you up, cradling your tiny form against his warm jacket. You didn't resist—too weak to protest, or maybe... maybe you had already decided to trust him.

That night, you became part of Sung Jinwoo’s world.

---

At first, you were simply a stray he had taken in, a small, quiet companion in his vast, powerful life. Jinwoo wasn’t particularly experienced with pets, but he learned. He learned that you preferred fish over chicken, that you liked perching on his shoulder even when he was working, and that you had an uncanny ability to sense his moods.

When he came home from exhausting raids, covered in wounds and blood, you would curl up beside him, purring softly as if trying to heal him in your own way. And maybe, in a way, you did.

“(Y/N),” he sighed one night, watching as you batted at the pages of a book he was trying to read. “You’re spoiled, you know that?”

You just blinked at him, tail flicking as if to say, And whose fault is that?

Jinwoo chuckled, scratching behind your ears. “Yeah, yeah… mine.”

He never regretted picking you up that night.

---

Then, one day, everything changed.

Jinwoo had gone out for a quick errand, leaving you lounging on his bed. It was an ordinary day—until an unbearable heat spread through your body. You tried to move, but a sharp pain wracked your limbs. It felt like something inside you was shifting, breaking apart and reforming.

And then—

Silence.

When Jinwoo returned home, he immediately sensed something was off. His senses, honed from countless battles, went on high alert. There was someone in his apartment.

A faint rustling came from his bedroom.

His shadows coiled, ready to strike, as he slowly pushed open the door—only to freeze.

There, sitting on his bed, wrapped in his blanket, was a girl.

A very, very familiar girl.

Golden eyes. Soft (H/C) hair. A slight tilt of the head that reminded him so much of—

“(Y/N)?” The name left his lips before he could stop himself.

The girl blinked, then smiled.

“Welcome home, Jinwoo.”

And just like that, his world flipped upside down.

---

Jinwoo wasn’t an easy man to shock. He had faced monsters, kings, and literal gods. But seeing his tiny, fluffy cat turn into a breathtakingly beautiful woman? Yeah, that did the trick.

For the first few hours, he could barely function. His mind kept replaying the absurdity of it. You, now human, had laughed softly at his reaction, hugging his blanket around your frame as you patiently explained.

You didn’t know how it happened, only that one moment you were a cat, and the next, you weren’t. You weren’t human either—at least, not entirely. There was something… other about you. Something ancient.

Jinwoo, despite his disbelief, couldn’t deny it. After all, he had seen far crazier things in his life.

But even as he struggled to understand, one thing remained the same.

You were still his (Y/N).

Still the one who curled up beside him when he was tired.

Still the one who looked at him with unwavering trust.

Still the one who made his lonely world feel a little warmer.

And that realization hit him harder than any battle ever had.

---

Days passed, then weeks. Jinwoo adjusted—somehow. He learned that you were just as mischievous in human form, stealing his hoodies, teasing him mercilessly, and still insisting on perching in his lap like you were still a tiny feline.

“You do realize you’re not a cat anymore, right?” he grumbled one evening, as you comfortably made yourself at home on his lap.

You grinned up at him. “Old habits die hard.”

He sighed, but his hands instinctively went to your hair, fingers combing through the soft strands. Just like before, you leaned into his touch, a content hum escaping your lips.

Jinwoo’s heart did something strange. Something dangerous.

He ignored it.

Or at least, he tried to.

But then there were the little things—the way you always waited for him to come home, the way you instinctively reached for his hand when you were nervous, the way you whispered his name like it was something precious.

And Jinwoo, the strongest Hunter in the world, found himself utterly, hopelessly weak.

One night, as you curled up beside him—just like old times—he finally gave in.

His arms wrapped around you, pulling you against his chest. You stiffened slightly in surprise, before melting into his embrace.

“Jinwoo?” you murmured.

He buried his face in your hair, exhaling softly. “Stay.”

A pause. Then, a smile.

“Always.”

And with that, Jinwoo finally admitted what he had known all along.

You weren’t just a stray he had picked up.

You're no longer just his cat.

You were his home.

His love.

And he would never let you go

Till death do us part

---

The End.

[wc-fernclan]

My name is Ahmed Bakr, a Palestinian. I live in the Gaza Strip. My least wish is to save my wife and children (Neven, Khaled, Joan, Aida, and Musk) from certain death. I write these words and ask for your help. I do not know whether we will be able to survive. This is my last message to you as a human being and the story of my life and my family since the beginning of the war. My son (Khaled) is his age. (8) years old and suffers from enlarged liver diseases, infections, and anemia from contaminated food and water. We are unable to treat him, buy medicine for him, hold a baby no more than two months old, and I am unable to provide her with milk, pampers, or even supplies for small children. My children need food and treatment. We are deprived of the food we love. Our mental health is deteriorating and very destructive, and we need hygiene supplies in the tents. I was displaced from my home from the north to the south, to Khan Yunis, then to Rafah, and then to Nuseirat. I was injured by an occupation sniper while searching for a living for my children. I endured carrying water, searching for wood to light the fire, and bringing food for my children because there was no gas for long distances. Long, all day long, surrounded by devastation, bloody missiles and shattering shrapnel. We endured constant fear day and night for a whole year without any peace or comfort. I do not know where to take my children. Our lives are very painful and difficult, and every time we miraculously escape death, I want to help everyone who can help us, those with compassionate hearts. We live in the heat of tents and under the blazing sun. My house was completely demolished after years of effort and fatigue and building our house. Then, one night and one day, everything disappeared and my children’s room was completely burned and demolished. Even our car was not spared from the bombing, as we had all the wonderful means and tools. For the sake of a decent life, we started roasting our food over the fire despite the fatigue and heat. We are still standing despite the bombing, hunger, and severe shortages. We need your help. At this Save My Children event, we invite you to share our story with your friends and families with clarity and support. Your sensible words and prayers provide strength to endure these difficult circumstances... (Your donation) can make enough difference in our lives. We depend on your support and your standing by our side through this traditional ordeal, boxing, to restore hope and safety to Hayat and her family. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for considering my application. Your support and donation are very important to me and my family

Show your support for this GoFundMehttps://gofund.me/1d3a37c4

Ahmed, thank you for reaching out. Thank you for sharing the details of how much these atrocities have affected you and your family.

It’s not just your children who deserve better, you do as well.

To whoever sees this post, donate what you can and please share the link.

[noonew1lleverask]

Over and Over Again

Hello people. I’ve literally never posted on tumblr before, but I really really wanted to because I had this Spencer Reid idea. This sucks, and if you have any critic or advice for me, PLEASE LET ME KNOW. I hope you like it. There’s no warnings, besides a storm, maybe? Again, never posted before, yes, the banner is huge. I know. I do not know how to fix these things. I’m yapping.

ANYWAYS: this blurb was written based off of the song Would You Fall in Love with Me Again from EPIC (dog, listen to it, it’s the best musical ever). Loosely based, really. I hope you love it.

“I’ve changed,” he insisted. He persistently insisted, pacing his living room floor, expertly dodging books left face-open on the floor , words subject to dim lighting above them, watching like a crowded theater as he stood before her, laying himself bare. He wasn’t a man anymore— couldn’t she see that? He was a monster.

She watched him with wrinkled brows, mentally undoing the puzzle she’d spent all of her time knowing him trying to solve. She couldn’t understand it. Why did he think he had any right to tell her this? She knew he changed, it was obvious, it was natural, considering what happened. Yet, he spoke of his shift in demeanor as if it wasn’t obvious, as if she wasn’t aware of the yellow warning signs flashing by her as she drove down the road, speedometer reaching unsafe levels, but she couldn’t stop. She didn’t want to.

Stepping forward, toes catching against the corners of his precious literature now tossed aside in the face of his internal storm, she caught him by his wrists, stopping him. “Spencer—“

The words burst from his mouth, drowning her out. “I’m not the man you fell in love with. What I did in there?”

Despite his insistence, his hands slid down, entwining their fingers together and holding tightly, too afraid to let go, too desperate to cling to a lifeline suddenly cast toward him, a precious lifeboat of brilliant orange in a raging sea, waves of resistance keeping him at bay.

“What I did in there… it’s not… you have to understand. I did what I had to do—“

“Then that makes you more man than monster— that makes you human. You lived— the human instinct is to live— stop trying to… to dissuade me! Spencer, I—“

“Please—“

The desperation sat heavily in his eyes, glimpses of a lake hidden deep within a dark forest, a glimpse of heavenly seas of emerald spoke of in Revelations. They flickered, flashing between adoration and aggravation, desperation and deprivation. Duty and desire warred inside his mind, a voice near the back of his mind reminding him of his sins, of his transgressions. She didn’t need that. She needed clean cut and safety. How could she find wealth of any kind with him?

Electricity crackled between them, rolling like the breaching thunder outside of his apartment.

He didn’t believe in fate. He didn’t believe in destiny or signs, but this? This seemed to perfectly concocted. If there was a God, He was making his opinion known of the situation inside of Spencer’s apartment, expressing his vehement hatred of the private world they’d come to build together. He would tear it down if Spencer didn’t first.

Her eyes flashed to the window, and snapped back to him, mirroring his desperation; destruction; adoration; anger. She held his hands tighter, nails digging into the flesh of his knuckles. The singe of pain was needed, it tied him to her, fed his selfish desires to have her, to keep her inside of him, tucked securely into the empty cavity of his chest.

Her voice was a rasp as she seemed to beg, all but falling to her knees to clutch to his pant leg and sob like a child. “‘*Please*’. You keep saying ‘please’. Stop saying that!” She exclaimed, holding his hands tighter. Her body felt rigid, tense with all of the emotions tightly wound inside of her, aching to be let free in a cacophony of rage, explosion of lust, a torrent of emotions. “Spencer, I love you! I will fall in love with you over and over again, and I don’t care what you did. I don’t care who you hurt— do you think I haven’t hurt people, too?”

“Not like I have,” he attempted to intervene, and she quickly shushed him.

“What you have done in moments of desperation doesn’t matter to me!… Okay, it does. It matters to me because I… you’re here with me. You’re with me, holding my hands, telling me not to love you— but you told me I was the only thing keeping you sane. My letters were your anchor. Was that not true?”

His silence was answer enough. The thin press of his rose lips told her everything she needed to know. With a grating strength, she released his wrist, and drew her hand to his face. His stubble tickled her palm as she cupped his jaw, watched him lean into her touch like a sunflower towards the sun.

“Stop fighting me,” she whimpered. Her voice had lost it’s strength, but not it’s conviction. “Stop trying to keep me away from you… If I wanted to leave you, if I believed, truly believed you were a monster… I wouldn’t be here, would I?”

He looked so tired. When he smiled it was torn. This wasn’t the same man as before, but it was Spencer. Spencer fucking Reid, and she’d be damned if she didn’t love him just as much; maybe more.

“I love you,” she whispered, her voice thick with tears she hadn’t realized began spilling over her cheeks, collecting at her jaw and running down her neck in hot rivulets.

His pupils swelled at the sight.

Her words began to snowball, as did her volume as it rose and rose with every word, her strength returning under the clear dilation of his pupils; a solid tell he was just as affected as her. “And I won’t stop loving you, because you will always be the man I fell in love with. No matter what you’ve done, where you’ve been— damnit, Spencer—!“

His head dipped forward suddenly, lips catching hers in a powerful press of lips that she’d yearned for since he first delivered her a smile that broke through clouds over her head, offered one of his relentless facts of seemingly infinite wisdom that drew her deeper into this… well of adoration she’d fallen headfirst into.

Heat blossomed at the base of her spine, racing up her back to leave her lightheaded as she fell into him, hands falling to loosely clutch his shirt. His arms wound around her waist to capture her weak form, clutching her to him, his fingers curled into her shirt, wrinkling the fabric.

His lips perused hers with a desperate leisure, a slow hunger that threatened to tear him limb from limb. His seams were already loosened, and she was tugging, whether she knew it or not.

Pulling back reluctantly, he breathed heavily against her mouth. Bursts of moist, warm air hit her skin. She felt it curl around her cheeks, sink into her ears, her temporal lobe soaking in the lingering tingle of his lips on hers, leaving her drunk.

“I love you,” he whispered to her, his voice barely audible over the rain slamming against the windows of his living room. He had forgotten about God’s wrath looming outside of his windows.

She laughed softly, her voice still hiccuping around her steadily falling tears. “Do you know how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that?”

He smiled, a genuine, full smile of exuberant happiness. “Too long.”

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR READING IF YOU DID! <3 Even if you didn’t, thanks so much anyways! Remember, you are loved and appreciated by someone. You are loved and appreciated by me, and I hope you have a wonderful day wherever you are.

[monkesupreme]

Maybe i SHOULD draft out my ‘Clark is a SuperPlant’ propaganda post

[chirpsythismorning]

Watching Wayward Pines for potential ST5 inspo bc the Duffers wrote a couple episodes in s1, and when I got to their second (last) episode and their name crossed the screen, I noticed a visual parallel that might already exist on the show…

Recognize it??

It instantly reminded me of that last shot for the opening of s3, with the landscape peaking out behind the Russian base. But when I went back and actually compared the two, holy shit it’s near identical, and not just the landscape.

I didn’t even remember the helicopter being there on the left, not to mention the pillar-esaue contraption at the center. Like… they’re the same picture.!

With them being credited right at that moment, it’s obvious this was an intentional nod to their previous work.

I just thought it was cool so I wanted to share, but in terms of my watch overall, there is a LOT going on that they could pull from. I’m only halfway through s1, though I’ve heard the show goes downhill in s2 so we’ll see how that goes 😂

[the-stranger-of-the-hidden-world]

"Dragons who eat other dragons. It's not very common, but there are some kinds that do. The lightning breathers are one of them." Stranger elaborated, reaching out to put a hand on Lyra's shoulder. "It scares us, too...but it's just a fact of life. Bigger creatures need more food to survive. And sometimes...that food is smaller and more vulnerable dragons like us. All we need to do is avoid getting eaten and we're okay."

When Lyra sat down on the ground and explained herself, Stranger and Sunchaser both listened intently while Seabreak and Streak continued to wrestle each other. Maybe it was the stress and worry, or maybe they just needed a moment to relax and play, but they didn't seem too concerned, anymore.

The woman watched curiously with rapt attention as the fae woman made a flower bloom before her eyes, trilling excitedly at the sight of it. So, magic was just this...miraculous ability she had. No wonder humans tried to attack her and use her. That kind of power would be terrifying to those who didn't understand it...or alluring to those who wanted to use it for themselves.

It was sad that Lyra was outcasted for not being fullblooded...'dirty blood.' What a horrible concept. "To be fair, if I tried to learn your language, I don't think I'd sound that different than you do right now. Nothing wrong with learning something new." Stranger replied, sitting next to Lyra and admiring the slowly dwindling dusk as the stars began to dot the sky above them, Sunchaser yawning and laying down beside them, letting them lean against him for comfort if they needed to. It was a relief to see that Lyra was healing quickly, thanks to her magic. They were glad to help her...helpless prey was not very sporting and dragons with less regard for that sort of thing wouldn't hesitate to snap up the fae for a meal.

They knew what it was like to feel vulnerable. Their soft scales, smaller bodies, and stark white scales made them easier targets.

Stranger sighed softly through her nose, leaning against her brother as she looked up at the night sky. "Our old alpha - a really cranky dragon named Slate - she...well, she didn't exactly want me when our mother first took me home." She explained, reminiscing on her early days in the Hidden World. Those memories were a bit hazy, but what she did remember was as clear as day to her. "I...I was on a ship. I was little. I couldn't have been more than maybe a few years old. I remember the ship being destroyed...I remember floating away from the wreckage, crying out for my mother. I remember drifting away and ending up on the very edge of the Mothermouth and crying out because I was so scared...and then our mother - Moondance - found me. And...instead of eating me, she scooped me up and took me home and put me in her nest. Our father - Cloud - was a bit worried about raising me, but our mother insisted that I stay. When Slate found out...she was angry. She demanded that mother take me back and leave me to die, but...she refused. She even fought Slate to keep me and...well, I slept next to my brothers that night when they hatched. And we've all been together ever since - even despite all the trouble we've gotten into."

Sunchaser huffed, ear flapping as he listened to his sister tell Lyra how she wound up in their little family. "The stampede with those big shiny armoured dragons was as much Seabreak's fault as it was yours. Mom keeps telling you not to take the fall for him and you still keep doing it."

Stranger huffed, lightly smacking the yellow white dragon with the back of her hand. "I didn't want him to get in trouble with Slate...and it's easier for her to blame me than it is to blame him. Even if I didn't, she would've still blamed me...why bother arguing with her?"

Grumbling, the elder dragon curled around the both of them, resting his tail lightly on Lyra's lap. He wasn't sure how long she had been on that beach, but she must've been rather cold. "At least Mirage isn't as cranky. The most she does is give us the occasional scolding from time to time."

Chuckling, she trilled softly at him. "Hard to think she's so serious, now...I remember when she used to play tricks on us when we were younger just because she liked making us look undignified compared to her." Glancing over at Lyra, Stranger hummed thoughtfully. Lyra was alone, now. She wasn't sure how fae family and social structures functioned, but she couldn't help but empathize with the feeling of not belonging...well, anywhere, really. "I guess you're a stranger among your own, too."

Lyra yelped as Seabreak tumbled into Streak. But once she realized they were playing she giggled. Watching them happily. Though her smile turned worried as she listened to Stranger explain their world.

It sounded like they left of their own will. It also sounded like it was dangerous for them.

“Dragon eaters?!” She looked at Stranger scared. What would eat dragons?! What was dangerous enough to do that?

Lyra found a soft spot on the grass and laid down on her good side. Curling up and watching the brothers play. Lyra knew the questions would come and when her new friend asked the fae gave her a small smile.

“Fae connect to elements. Like fire, water, earth. I am forest fae. I connect to plants.” Lyra reached out and placed her hand on the grass. Slowly lifting her hand to reveal a purple lily flower growing and then blooming before their eyes.

“I help grow. I also help heal. Myself and others.” Lyra pointed to her arm where the gashes were almost completely healed. Laying there felt so nice. Lyra felt her magic returning and the pain of the day was fading away. She closed her eyes as she continued to speak.

“Magic how I speak with you. It give me knowledge to speak dragon. But I still learning. Speak like hatchling.” She giggled.

“But I only half fae. I half human too. Faes don’t like. Call me dirty blood. So forced to leave. I lived alone. Travel a lot to find new home.”

[lauralot89]

Actual things that happen in the 1897 Dracula novel, without context:

A character has ominous nightmares and attributes them to eating too much paprika

Dracula first appears wearing a fake beard

The person he was trying to fool with the fake beard immediately realizes Dracula and Beard Guy are the same man, due to both having really firm handshakes

We are told parrots are immortal unless fatally wounded

A Texan cowboy opens fire on a bat flitting around a window, and lodges a bullet in the wall of an occupied room

A woman is called a polyandrist for receiving blood transfusions from multiple men

An incorrectly addressed telegram leads to two deaths, multiple druggings, and several children being assaulted

Dracula, while trying to maintain a low profile, takes a lovely trip to the zoo and freaks out the animals so badly that he gets mentioned in a newspaper article

The one character who knows anything about vampires spends a good two-thirds of the book refusing to talk about vampires

Dracula went to Satan's Witchcraft Academy and somehow this is only brought up in two throwaway lines

A character gets stuck inside a circle of communion wafer crumbs

A major plot point of the book is Dracula (who was said to be a brilliant scholar and has the strength of twenty mortal men) realizing he can move boxes without human help

Someone is referred to as "manifestly a prig of the first water"

Two characters have a hobby of reading train schedules

A hospital lets a mental patient escape to see what will happen

A character starts vomiting up feathers from eating whole birds

A doctor refuses to give a medical diagnosis and instead makes a speech about growing corn

Dracula impersonates another character just by wearing the same clothes, despite being taller and visibly much older. This deception is successful.

A character "cleans" a room by eating all the insects in it

Suddenly: rats. Thousands of them.

The heroes progress in their efforts through "the wonderful power of money," i.e., bribery

Dracula has three other vampires in his castle. Their relation to him is never explained, nor are any of them named.

A character insists his salvation depends on having a pet cat

Dracula is thwarted by flowers on more than one occasion

A group of vampires stand in the hall outside a man's bedroom, talking loudly about their plans to eat him. When he comes to the door to confront them, they run away laughing

Dracula wears an unfashionable hat and gets roasted for it

A group of Romanians encounter a disheveled, shouting man and, "seeing from his violent demeanour that he was English, they [give] him a ticket for the furthest station on the way thither that the train reached."

A boat crashes due to Dracula having the munchies

A wolf is thrown through a window and immediately runs off, confused and covered in glass

Dracula makes a bed