#hes cursed me and yet at the same time this has opened my eyes compared to the sweet normal years

[mifunebooty]

I will survive my 6 month streak curse of being in love and having the mega hots for Robert Mitchum

[passmethatcokezero]

hot and bothered... (18+ // woozi!friends with benefits au) pt.1

- jihoon x fem!reader - 2.7k words - warnings: smut. minors dni! bff!woozi is hot and bothered at work so bff!you came to the rescue, dry humping, blowjob, needy jihoon cos why not, made so quick cos I was missing him and he has been living in my mind rent free since the day i saw him on the carts ( i wasnt same since then and thoughts have been thunk so here's a fraction of those thoughts ), just a short one, but thinking of making a part two continuation. enjoy! - (prequel link at the end of second part cos i think we all need it)

“You alright?” The silence breaks, as the words from your mouth betrayed yourself. You didn’t really want to speak first, although you did feel the air has now gotten a little lighter compared earlier.

It was Seungkwan’s stupid plan; the guys had been sick of staying up all night after hours of practice for a few days now just to please their dear producer. No one can seem to thaw him, moreso pinpoint where the tension is rooted from. Obviously, it was self-inflicted pressure. Jihoon can’t understand why nobody seems to meet his expectations lately and it got bad to the point of Seokmin blaming himself for what seemed like delays but aren’t as they still got plenty of time before the next comeback. Seungkwan, hurt, seeing his talented friend’s self-esteem chase tears down his cheeks, stepped up by calling you over because “maybe you can do something about your best friend,” as he said.

Jihoon sighed as he slumps his body deep in his chair. You’ve made your presence known since earlier when Soonyoung was trying to ease the tension but you kept your mouth shut or else Jihoon might explode knowing you’re just going to take the poor boy’s side who was even more in tears brought therein by your comforting strokes on his arm. “You came here for what exactly?”

“Excuse me?” you scoffed at his words. “Seungkwan called me. For some reason I thought I was coming for a celebration and yet…”

Silence takes over once again. The boys had long been gone since Bumzu initiated that everyone should take a breather first, and secretly asking you to stay and maybe help clear up your friend’s mind. “I don’t even know why the boys kept on doing this, okay? Suddenly all the pressure’s on me whenever you’re acting up.”

You did not want to say it, but it had been a long day at work and hearing his snarky voice ticked you in a bad way.

“I am just tired.” Jihoon says almost immediately, as if not wanting you to say anything more. He massaged his temples and continued, “...tired as fuck.”

“But that does not excuse that kind of attitude!” you stood from the couch, rising with the tension inside the room. “You’re being too hard on the boys and yourself. Again.” You cursed under your breath, realizing the cringy tone that just left your mouth. The last time the same exact nagging tone came out, Jihoon’s anxiety was having a field day in his brain just like earlier, and you did not expect what happened after.

And then it came to you. Soon you were flooded with flashbacks from what happened that night: Jihoon aggressively pinning you by the door, meaning to actually open it and let you out, when all of a sudden you pulled him into an embrace in an attempt to calm him down, crashing your lips to his after a long eye-fucking, breath kissing when you caught him off guard, blushing from the sudden warmth. Not long after he responded, kissing you hard as if you were not just shedding tears arguing with him over his sharp words when you were just asking him to simply breathe during a heated exchange with Soonyoung over the phone. The kiss went wild yet slowly turned comfortable as he kept on apologizing, feeling your hot tears meet his burning red cheeks. You figured he needed it that time, like a de-stressor of some sorts, and so you let his mouth conquer yours as a way to help.

That kiss went longer than what friends could actually share. But if it's the only way to keep your friend sane that moment, you suppose you can let him use you as long as he is not going to be weird about it right after. Which he did, or so you thought.

Because that day never left his mind. He was not sure why you let him kiss you like that that night, nor why you did not even bother to ask about it days, weeks after. A bit hurt that it seemed like a casual thing for you, but for him it meant healing, washing away the anxiety clouding his thinking. That moment stayed on his mind unhealthily long, almost turned into songs he would never write and let you hear, even causing him to get wet dreams for quite a while. But of course, no one could know. Not about the kiss. Not even his budding feelings towards his best friend.

“Jihoon-ah…” you exhaled, turning his swivel to face you. “I can help, Just… tell me how..”

Both of you had the same thing in mind, he needed you just like that night. But why does he find it hard to admit it? 

The guy blushed in pink, avoiding your eyes at all cost, acting as if in deep-thought. “I…”

“Look at me,” he obeys in a second, but his eyes can't help but fall into your lips inches away from him. “Do you want…. my help?”

He nods subtly as an answer, but you can’t just accept that. You needed him firm, an answer to also clear your doubts about the way his eyes are glued to your lips, his ears blushed to the reddest of red, and the way his adam’s apple bobbed up and down when you leaned in closer: is he nervous because he’s uncomfortable? or was he nervous because you suddenly make him be?

“Yeah…” his breath hitches, the side of your lips upturns.

“Then say it—”

“I need you,” he reveals his innermost desire as he scrambles to his feet and catches your lips like he has been waiting for it for centuries.

Just like the first time, the kiss deepens instantly as you two found a comfortable position on the couch, you settling on his lap, arms around his shoulders. You two couldn't even care less if the door had been left unlocked when the people had left. It’s just your mouth sharing warmth with his; tongues dancing together in harmony. Just like the first time, he was craving for more, and he was able to relay that message when his teeth grazed at your lower lip, causing a moan to escape your lungs. He too groaned and by then you realized he is now rock hard underneath your heat, his thin shorts revealing himself to your clothed mound. 

“Fuck…” you did not expect yourself to be so turned on knowing you made your best friend erect just like that. All you did was wet kissing and well, maybe sitting right above his cock was what it all took.

You arched your back when you felt him squirm underneath you. He was definitely trying to move and find his rhythm, you thought, so you matched with his and rolled your hips against his erection.

“Damn….” he moaned so deeply with his hoarse voice. The friction between your clothed pussy and his bulge was enough to send you dripping to your core. Not even him, the most rational person you knew, can think straight at a moment like this: does he want to kiss your neck or pull you for another tongue wrestling? Does he want to tear all the annoying garments away from you? Does he want to set his cock free and let you sit on it, ride it if it’s too tempting for you? There’s one thing he knows though, he does not want to stop humping for now. The kind of pleasure the friction is giving him, plus the fact that he was doing such an erotic activity with not just any person but his best friend he had been fantasizing about lately was enough to send him nuts. He cannot even fathom what would happen if this escalates to something more, just having your warmth and your equally heightened libido had his focus on the now.

“You’re so hard, Jihoon.”

It felt so good and ego-boosting at the same time. Is he having a good time as well? He seems to like it as much as you do. His erection and hip movements to meet yours say it all: he wants you so bad and you feel proud someone actually desires you that much. When even was the last time you got laid? Was it a very long time ago? You aren’t sexually active yourself, and surprisingly, you’ve never been in a serious relationship as well. Maybe it wasn’t your priority, but having this heated session with your friend, you realized, you also craved to be touched, and be wanted. You wanted to be kissed deeply and ravenously, to be held possessively, and to be wanted as hungrily as how Jihoon was making you feel. Exactly as how Jihoon is obsessing for all that you are right now.

“Touch me. Please, Jihoon…” 

The dry humping must have had a drug, you thought. How come having all these annoying barriers on your skin makes all these way hotter than you thought it could be? Especially when Jihoon’s feisty hands made their way from your waist to the insides of your shirt while his sloppy kisses made their way to your neck. His cold hands cupping your breasts send electricity to your spine, causing you to moan out his name as dirty and needy as possible. Who could blame you, he was making you feel so good. His hands that created masterpieces are now invading your privacy, so sweetly yet so heavy with emotions. It was as if he was milking out lyrics to an explicit love song out of you, to match the melodies coming out of your lungs that harmonize with his.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know that?” he managed to say between breaths, as he enjoys playing with your now slightly free breasts that had slipped out of your bra. He is still a boy, you found that out long time ago, when you’ve caught him subtly staring at your chest during that one listening party night you were his plus one at a bar hosted by a producer friend and you just had to wear something skimpy and rather revealing, something to match the R&B vibe of the album. He did catch himself as well staring that time, and proceeded to lend you his suit because “the bartender was having the time of his life flirting with you," - went his alibi.

“Yeah? That’s why you wanted me so bad huh?—oh shit!” you moaned out loud when his hold on you became heavier, pushing you down to his hardened cock as if there were anymore spaces left in between.

Mouths agape, together you humped against each other's heat, only moans were resonating inside his studio alongside a minute sound of the friction cause by the fabrics.

“Fuck I think gonna cum, fuck,” Jihoon cursed, while his eyes were shut and his teeth gritted to concentration. “Fuck,” he humps against you harder as curses kept on rolling from his tongue, while your hips rolled faster to meet his tempo, moans pitched higher and higher. You were also close, and suddenly you were reminded this isn’t about you. You were helping your friend. And you gotta do what you gotta do.

“Wai-wha—what are you doing?” his voice sounded annoyed but you know better than to answer him. Legs folding on the floor as you positioned yourself in between his, not wasting time in pulling twice the constraints that were his shorts and underwear. His cock sprung healthily, all pink and angry, veins bulging out as if wanted to be traced by your tongue.

He hissed out of breath, confused if he wanted to surrender on the couch or look at you in a position he had only dreamt of once. 

No words need exchanging as you started sucking him off right there, mixing his precum with saliva, coating him down until your mouth can take. He had praises for you behind his teeth but all he could let out were needy guttural moans that translated how good you were making him feel anyway. You let his moans and the sight of him all sweaty and consumed fuck your system as the pool in your south continued to dampen your undies, the insides of your thighs getting ticklish, missing the attention it has gotten from him. Oh how badly you wanted him to fuck you right then and there, how badly you want him bucking his hips and drilling you so deep, how badly you wanted this thick cock of his inside you, stretching you oh so painfully yet so pleasurable.

“fuck… cant… anymore…” his shaky words were almost inaudible from all the dirty noises he was making, sounding even more gibberish while his body moved erratically to fuck your mouth, hands glued to your head to try to get his momentum, which did not take long as strings of cum exploded inside your mouth. You were quick to swallow, but most of his loads were still overflowing, racing down to your chin straight to your neck. It was one heck of a view, he thinks, as his chest heaves chasing his breath while appreciating a bit of the scene: his softening cock popping out of your mouth, before almost passing out.

“that was… really good.” it was probably an understatement to the euphoric climax he just had; his mind was still hazy from the release so he cannot find the correct words to tell you. But you were fine, the moans already sounded like praises to you. “That feels much better than I do with my own.”

“Of course it would,” you gave him a peck on the corner of his lips, and then dusting off the wrinkles on your clothes and adjusting your bra. “Takes two to tango.”

Confusion was then plastered on his face when you began fixing your hair and proceeding to face your back to grab your bag you left by the table. “What are you doing?”

“Leaving?”

“Who said you are?”

Somewhere in the room, his phone rings which he attentively checks. The name wasn’t supposed to annoy the hell out of him, but right now it almost spelled like a curse to him.

“You’re not leaving, please.” he grabs your hand as he takes the call from Bumzu. He knows you did not have your release, and he doesn’t want you carrying all that unreleased tension inside you when he himself had the best one tonight. 

You heard the other line asking how he was feeling now and that he had left something inside the studio and if it’s okay to go and get it. Jihoon agrees, not without a defeated sigh and a click of his tongue only you can hear.

“You know the passcode right? I think I’ll take my leave tonight, I don’t think I can wring anything out of my mind at this rate.”

You looked at him while shaking your head as a smirk forms on your mouth, furrowing your eyebrows at him as if asking him what he was saying.

“Sure, actually we’ve been meaning to tell you that.” Bumzu seconds him, and asks about you right after. You heard him say Seokmin and Seungkwan had been asking if you weren’t busy and maybe hangout for a while as a way to thank you from earlier. Both guys had always been the sweetest among the bunch and although it was only out of courtesy, Jihoon can’t help but fume in jealousy, making himself lie to keep you in his (and ONLY HIS) sight for a while.

“She just left, I think she said she’s going for an early appointment tomorrow,” and ends the call soon when Bumzu bids his farewell and hopes of him getting well.

“I didn’t know you can lie to your brothers,”

“For an emergency yeah,” he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, and now he was already leading you out of his studio to the elevator.

“You could just say you’re sending me home, that would sound a lot better,”

And then what, you finding out about how the guys had been teasing him about you since day one? Of course, he won’t let that happen. Not until he finds the time to finally be honest with himself and to you.

“So… my place or yours?”

-

stay tuned for part two for the hoo-haa ;)

a/n: updated! part two is up! again, there's a prequel you can read after. link will be at the end of the second part ^^

[heedeungism]

say yes to heaven (say yes to me). | teaser

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 ⭒ ice prince!sunghoon x fire princess!reader 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ⭒ the crown prince of the ice kingdom is not known for having objects of affection. perhaps the fiery princess of the fire kingdom is all that is needed to thaw his frozen heart. (route 1 of the eternal flame saga) 𝐈𝐍𝐂𝐋𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐒 ⭒ alcohol, cursing, the beginnings of a panic attack, dwagons 𝐄𝐒𝐓. 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓 ⭒ 10k> (teaser is 1k) 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒 ⭒ this is only a small snippet of a longform fic i’ve been working on since house of the dragon started up again, so obviously it’s inspired by that. however i did need to fix the whole incest = dragons so i made up this whole concept that, while obviously inspired by hotd, is incest free! i have other fics in this same universe outlined(hence the ‘route 1 of the eternal flame saga’), but i will be focusing most of my attention on this fic until it’s done!

masterlist. rules. request.

The House of Frost’s sigil is arguably one of the more simple of the Great Houses. A banner of pale blue, a white emblem of stark beauty, a dragon. Next to sigils of the other Kingdom’s, it appears as icy as one would imagine.

The Houses of Earth and Wind fly flags of more neutral colors, ivories and browns. The Water Dragon Kingdom’s a royal blue and Sky Dragon's a pale pink, but none so beautifully bright as his.

Yet, you see no sign of it as you sit at the head of the dining hall beside your brother.

Tourney’s you’ve attended usually start with a dinner the first day, then a melee or joust the second and third, a tour, maybe even a hunt if so desired by the king, or Prince Regent in this case. Your brother seems keen on being exceptionally annoying, booking your schedule for the week with barely enough time to bathe let alone avoid the eyes of the realm.

So, now, you sit at the large dinner, and realize you have yet to see the sigil you were so expecting.

Riki leans down at his station standing close behind you, “I imagine the Northern Sea is rather backed up this time of year.”

His jest does not impress you, “He could arrive on dragonback if he so cared.” As you finish your childish claim, the doors open.

“Prince Sunghoon of the House of Frost. Heir to his throne.”

Your sworn knight nearly snorts, as a tall male arrives. He has no company, only the sword at his hip as he prowls toward the table you sit.

Ten years had changed a lot. No longer did he have the sickly look about him, his skin even and his shoulders fuller with what you can only assume is muscle. He carries himself with a confidence you could never compare to princes like Yeonjun of the Earth Territories, who holds his head too high and carries too cocky of a smile for you to respect him outright, or Sunoo of the Sky Archipelagos in the west who’s bashful countenance somewhat underwhelmed you considering the story attached to his crowning.

Prince Sunghoon is sure of himself, you can see it in the slight sway of his shoulders and his wide gait, but he doesn’t carry that confidence with the arrogance you expected of the Prince of Crystal Snow.

He’s beautiful. Fuck.

“It appears he does care, your highness.”

Riki snickers as you quickly bite back, “Shut up.”

“Prince Sunghoon, I thought we were to expect your family on the morrow?” Your brother muses, and the prince bows at his waist in greeting.

“My mother, the queen, fell ill. I come alone.” He said, his voice is much deeper as well, though that’s to be expected.

“I wish her good health, then.” The Prince Regent wishes a genuine prayer. The ice prince bows his head, his gaze only moves to you when you speak.

“And your knight?”

Your brother kicks your foot under the table at your tone, yet the prince only offers a gentle smirk with another honest bow, “Ser Jaeyun arrives tomorrow. He found a ride on dragonback to be…unpleasant.”

Riki coughs, and you fight the tug at the corner of your mouth with a sip of wine, “Pity.”

“Is Ser Jaeyun to participate in tomorrow's celebrations?” Your brother asks, the joust, and the prince shakes his head.

“I would prefer, Your Grace, myself to participate,” His gaze flicks to yours, and an unyielding warmth plants its roots at the bottom of your spine, creeping up the longer his eyes keep you in their sights, “If you would allow it.”

Your brother seems all too pleased at the news, “I see no reason to object. What of you, Princess?”

Sipping the wine in your cups does nothing to ease the nerves of your heart, “By all means.”

He bows once again before a servant guides him to his table, where a visibly excited Prince Sunoo waves him over. The other princes gather at that table, mingling and laughing together.

While you sit at the grand dining table sipping from your cups like it’s life’s water, the dress you were put into squeezing your abdomen uncomfortably.

“I do hope we have enough sheep to keep the dragons fed.” Your brother muses, observing the table of dragonheirs before glancing your way.

“Most of them keep themselves fed,” You dismiss, “We shouldn’t deplete our people’s resources for an event this needless.”

“Your words wound me, sister.” He pouts, quite unbecoming of a Prince Regent.

“Then may you bathe in the salts of Azora.” The bite to your words makes your brother sigh, he startles slightly when you slam your goblet back onto the table beside your plate of picked-at food, “My cup is empty.”

A servant hastens forward to refill it, a shaky apology falling from her lips, which has you regretting your outburst immediately. When she moves to retreat back to her position hovering near the wall so as to not be seen, you grab the pitcher from her hands and say, “I’ll keep this, please.”

The word falling from your lips seems to surprise her, before she panics and bows, “Of course, my princess.”

Riki snickers as the servant hastens away to make herself useful elsewhere, biting his cheek when you hiss, “Shut. Up.”

When you face forward once again, your eyes scanning the room, your gaze is caught in another.

Smoldering flames meet biting frost, and a burning tug travels up your gut and into your throat. It’s pure instinct that tears your gaze away, an attempt to free your body of the dreadful feeling.

It lingers in your chest even as you take a hefty swallow from your cup.

I am dragonfire. You repeat to yourself, a rush in your veins. The wine makes your skin hot, and the corset around your torso only makes catching your breath all the more difficult. The litany does not quell the flames in your chest.

I am dragonfire. I am the flame's heart. I am unburnt and I am the Princess of Eternal Flame.

©heedeungism : do not rewrite, copy, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission.

[loveliestlovelygirl]

one of his girls

finnick odair x gn!reader

synopsis: stuck in a long elevator ride with finnick odair himself, he promises to save you a dance at the capitol party. with him, you become the center of attention instantly. the guests watch in envy, most of them wishing they were you. but finnick has his own motives for his pursuit of you.

w.c: 2.2K+

highlights: {minors dni} dark content, implied sex trafficking, alcohol, capitol party, social hierarchy, sexual content, lack of aftercare

Finnick’s suit jacket is navy but darker. Something like a midnight blue. The fabric is shiny, so shiny that you can faintly see your reflection on his bicep.

“Pretty.”

Startled that he would speak to you or even notice that you were standing beside him. You are a nobody compared to him. “T-thank you,” you stutter. His voice is enticing in a way. Not deep. But unapologetically masculine and yet soft at the same time. It haunts you. Any reply you could fathom would be but nonsense.

He chuckles. His smile is big. “Oh, I meant my suit.”

Suddenly, the elevator you are riding in together seemed even smaller. You can’t escape your embarrassment. It suffocates you entirely. Completely mortified by your assumption, you hang your head to hide your building tears. Why do I have to be such an idiot!

The hundreds of people at the party above would kill to be in this elevator with him. And you choose to act a fool.

When Finnick turns your way, you glance up just enough to really view his outfit. His shirt is made from a sheer black fabric, and his jacket is left open. You can see every ripple along his abdomen. You curse yourself for noticing.

“You are too though.” He leans down a bit to meet your eyes. “I just like this suit, don’t you?”

“Yes, it… becomes you.”

Finnick gives you a satisfied smirk. “Ah, my first compliment of the night.”

You cover your mouth to laugh. “I’m sure you’ll be drowning in them by the end.”

“If only that weren’t true,” he notes, leaning against the back wall. “It’s hard being loved by all.”

You laugh again. While everyone goes on and on about his incomparable beauty, they’ve never mentioned his humorous side. But you wonder if maybe there is some truth to his statement. Maybe he doesn’t like being in the limelight so often. He’s always a main attraction at Capitol parties. Everyone tries to go home with him.

You admire Finnick’s makeup. The coal liner that brings out his green eyes. And the gold flecks on his pink cheeks, matching his golden hair. “You really do look pretty, Finnick,” you say to him.

He nods. “I have to. The scandal I would cause if I were underdressed. You know me, always the attention whore.” He says that with a hint of disgust that maybe he didn’t intend for your ears.

The elevator comes to a stop before you have a chance to ask what he meant by that. Finnick waves to you.

“I’ll save you a dance, darling.”

Everyone fiercely fights for Finnick’s attention through the batting of eyelashes, assaulting him with compliments, and insincere kisses to his golden cheeks. You watch him accept their adoration with gracious elegance that only he has. When they flirt with him, he flirts back flawlessly, without skipping a beat. From this outside view it seems to come so naturally to him. It looks like he thrives when he’s adored. Most people wouldn’t know how to handle the attention. They would suffocate from the weight of it all. But not Finnick Odair. You figure he’s seen so much in his life that nothing phases him. Nothing at all.

While he’s in the center of the room, you draw near to the sidelines. You nibble at the food and sip white wine. Finnick has been too busy the entire night entertaining guests that he has no time for enjoying a meal. You hope he ate before.

From the dessert bar, you watch him dancing with a loudly dressed man with green hair. The way their bodies move together is fluid. Finnick can dance. In fact, he’s very skilled with the way he controls his partner all in the rhythm of the music. Perhaps your envy causes you to avert your gaze, and you walk around to the opposite side of the bar so that you no longer have to watch. You know that your encounter in the elevator meant nothing to Finnick. His calling you pretty means nothing. He flirts with everyone he can.

You lose yourself to chocolate and your self-effacing thoughts. And you don’t notice when he sneaks up behind you. When Finnick’s hand touches your shoulder, you nearly jump.

“Hello, Finnick,” you mutter, not turning to look at his face.

“I noticed you were watching me.”

You shrug. “Everyone was. He seems… fun.”

“I don’t care about everyone.” He steps around you and wedges himself between you and the bar. “Are you…” he leans in, staring at you suspiciously, “jealous?”

“Of him?” you balk at his presumptuousness. “You—”

“He’s obsessed with me,” Finnick scoffs. “And I hate him. But…” his lips ghost your ear, “he’s close to our beloved president.” He steps away from you after he says that. “But that’s just between you and me.”

A little stunned that he would share a private detail of his affairs with you, you’re caught at a loss for words. “I have no one to tell.”

His fingers slip between yours. “Don’t you? You frequent these gatherings.”

Quickly, you remove your hand from his. “My mother insists that I make an appearance. She’s working on marital arrangements for me as we speak.”

Finnick nods. “I see. I suppose it was a little self-assured for me to believe you came for me.”

“Plenty do.”

Turning his face toward the crowd, he watches them dance and laugh, drink and eat. “It’s true. They know they might get something from me.”

“Your reputation precedes you.”

He looks back to you and centers his gaze upon your eyes. “You don’t act like them. You don’t gorge yourself on extravagant pleasures as they do. You’re not from the Capitol, are you?”

You shake your head. “No. I’m from a lesser district. I was adopted.”

“I pity you. You would have been better off back home.” Finnick reaches behind you and grabs a drink. He leans back to swallow. “I count down the days until I can go back to mine. But… it’s uncertain when I will be allowed to go back.”

You look at him quizzically. “Allowed?”

He smiles cheekily, acknowledging that you heard him correctly. He means for you to know that. “You should dance with me,” he says, abruptly changing the subject. He grabs your wrist with his big hand, his grip so strong that you could never overpower his might. His strength is god-like, a formidable weapon in a fight. But with you… he uses his strength gently.

There is no use denying him his wishes. Finnick pulls you along to the middle of the dance floor where you both quickly become the center of attention. The faces that never bothered to give you a second glance are staring at you unashamedly. But it’s all because of the man who holds you in his arms.

They’re jealous of you… for once.

Finnick leads you in the dance, both arms about your waist and holding you close to him. His cologne warms your senses. His scent is potent and tempting, and you only wish to get closer to him. But with where you stand right now, that’s quite impossible without taking off all your clothes.

You hold onto his neck as you sway to the beat of melody filling the room. He moves your body in time with his. You follow his lead completely. Being in the spotlight magnifies every flaw you can conceive of for everyone to see and tease you for. The blinding light of Finnick’s stardom no doubt makes it worse. No one looks pretty standing beside him.

You press your face against his suit jacket to hide yourself. You can’t take it anymore, looking all around the room and seeing all those judgmental expressions directed toward you. Holding onto Finnick keeps your grounded. He makes you feel safe. As you dance you begin to understand why so many obsess over his attention. Regardless of whether or not it is genuine, it feels that way. Every touch, every look feels real. And it makes you crave more. More of him. And it’s disgusting how quickly he’s made you harbor lustful feelings towards him.

Every time he looks down at you with his mesmerizing gaze, he gives you fuck me eyes. Every single time.

Like now.

You pull at the collar of his jacket and giggle. “Finnick… you can’t look at me like that.”

He lifts your chin. “Don’t tell me what I can’t do.” His tone is playfully cautious.

“You might make me fall—” you stop, shaking your head, backing away one step to put distance between your bodies.

“That’s the point, sweetheart. Tonight. I’m all yours.” He pulls you back in a spin, leans in close to your ear, lips grazing. “A favor you might… repay one day.”

“What kind of favor are you asking for?” You can’t believe you’re considering his offer. But there’s something about him. How can you resist the pull? You’re only human.

“I know who you are. I know you have a house in your district 7. I need a haven and transportation to the location. Until the storm blows over.” Finnick tells you these things with a big smile on his face.

“Storm? What storm?”

“I’m leaving the capitol. Very soon. You’re the last piece of the puzzle.”

You laugh at him as if he’s crazy. “Why would you want to leave the Capitol, Finnick? You can have everything you want.”

He turns serious for a moment. “I don’t want everything. I just want to go home. I have a connection in your district.”

“Okay,” you say. “I can make arrangements for you.”

Pulling you in closer, Finnick’s eyes drift over your lips. “So shall we head upstairs?”

You interlace your fingers in his and give him a nod. This is not how you expected the evening to turn out. Not at all. Your little interaction with Finnick in the elevator wasn’t meant to lead to this. But he pursued you… and his reasons are clear to you now.

When you’re alone with him in one of the upstairs rooms designated for illicit activities, you look around the four walls that surround you. You’re here while they’re stuck beneath you. You’re where the rest of them long to be.

Alone with Finnick Odair.

He pours you a drink and brings it to you. You sip at the sour liquid while he watches you.

“Look into my eyes, sweetheart.” He’s looking into yours, his irises almost as dark as emeralds in the dim lighting. Rolling back his shoulders, his suit jacket hits the floor. You see his skin through his sheer shirt. You’re sure that’s the point of it. He wants people to look at his body.

It worked on you. Easily.

Under the glitzy chandelier, crystal droplets catch the light and enhance his glow. Finnick slowly reveals himself to you, undressing to please you. The darkness in his eyes is alluring, and it draws you to him. The low lights, the incense burning, and the alcohol in your hand are meant to seduce you, as if having Finnick all to yourself is somehow not enough.

His expensive clothes are left behind when he approaches you. His long arm pulls you close, and he holds you against him, his body warm and comforting.

“My drink,” you say, “it spilled.”

Finnick takes the glass from your hand and drinks what’s left. His adam’s apple bobs when he swallows. He tosses the glass somewhere, and it lands in a crash.

“Someone will clean that up,” he notes, taking both your hands and leading you across the room. “Just focus on your desires.” He grins ear to ear. “Focus on me.”

With the way he looks tonight, that’s the easiest thing in the whole world. Maybe it’s the alcohol, but you throw yourself into his arms, and Finnick gracefully catches you. And for the first time, you share a kiss with him, two worlds colliding for a moment and an eternity all at once. You feel hazy in wonder. The maneuvering of his mouth pulls and demands the greatest pleasure from you. Never have you been kissed this way before. From the rumors you have heard, few rival Finnick Odair as a lover.

Together, you collapse on the sofa, your body on top of his, your lips never breaking contact. You kiss him all over his face, leaving lipstick prints on his cheeks and forehead. Finnick turns swiftly and pulls you under him, holding you down with his bodyweight and warmth. His skin against yours feels so right somehow, despite the situation. The excitement sparks across your skin, every place he touches with his hands, his fingers, and his mouth as he sucks on the pulse point of your neck.

He unzips the back of your outfit and traces down the ridges on your spine. At the same time, you pause to gaze into the other’s eyes. In that moment, you know you’re thinking the same thing, and soon you find yourself tangled in silken bedsheets.

You’re naked under him. This is the first time you’ve been intimate with someone you barely know. But you feel safe with him. He’s gentle, warming you up first before he truly makes a move. It’s skin on skin, two beating hearts, nails digging into flesh and leaving red marks. The echoes of his smooth voice reverberating in your ears, over and over. Over and over. When he’s inside you, you suddenly discover an insatiable side to your own desires. Passion takes over your body, and you can’t get enough of him and the little freak he’s unraveling in your soul.

The bed shakes and creaks, and in a fleeting glance, you look out from under him, you wondering if the pictures on the wall would crash down over you.

You grasp at his skin, the sheets, the headboard, in attempt to hold out, to let this last a little longer. To enjoy him because it’s unlikely that, once he makes his escape, you’ll see him again. Not like this, at least.

You cry when it hits. That rush, crashing into you like a wave. Finnick backs off soon after, giving you space. You’re not even sure if he felt the same.

You lie there for a long time, just staring up at the ceiling. And eventually he leaves you without another word or loving touch. You know that this was all a favor, but you can’t help but fall a little for him. Everyone does.

But you’re just one of his girls. A means to an end.

add yourself to my taglist!! @jaanefitoor @minniluvs @parkersvogue @marvelxhrry @motherphoebe @marcyss @hasalazzo @shaysevxx @miserablebl00d @junoxstevens @heroinhchicblog222 @hoslunix @ellenonesblog @theycantseeus @arxtixmonkeysxxx @lingerologist @mistyyrooms @scoliobean

[haerni]

HOW SWEET, “i’m without you”

synopsis: y’know it’s just an old trick && the demon who keeps knocking at your heart knows the formula,, but you won’t fall for it anymore, right ?

ft. lee heeseung, park jongseong, sim jaeyun + park sunghoon. (based on ‘how sweet’ by NewJeans!)

content: fem reader! just hyung line trying to rizz (woo) you up, kind of exes to lovers, they fumbled lol except for jay, lowkey implied toxic relationship, miscommunication trope, subpar dialogues struggling fr, jake & reader has issues fr (10:36 inspo). 2.8k words

— as always minimal proofread and very self indulgent >< & also because i wrote it on a whim.

( 🗯️ ) notes: a very word vomit drabble, haven't written in a long time, my exams are approaching soon this is sort of a lil warm gift from me ! ^_^ can u tell i love jay.. he's literally every eldest daughter's dream :(

JUST STEP OUT YOU LITTLE DEMON IN MY STORYLINE don’t knock on my door, i’ll see you out

this has been too much of an occurrence, a habit that heeseung has grown accustomed to. he knows he shouldn’t, its not acceptable, he knows he’s subjecting himself to a torture that was designed to be his dreams of you.

he should stop, he should leave, yet he finds himself once more at the same blocks of pavements with the exact same four steps up to the porch decorated with flowers that bloom so prettily in the night. and his knuckles hits the same wooden door, eyes dazed, out of his mind, but he knocks.

he knows he doesn’t have any right to be here. to stand in front of your door letting his frame lean on it as he waits for the same footsteps he has memorized.

heeseung prided over being a gentleman, he’s respectful, he knows his boundaries—his place, but right now he’s anything that.

maybe lee heeseung has never been one after you.

he hears the scuffle behind the door, and maybe it was weird that he knows exactly those footfalls, how just sound manages to touch a vile in him, a rush of excitement thrums as he waits the door to creak open. because the other side to where he stands, there you were.

it opens.

there you are—his favorite girl. a frown adorning your face and your eyes reflecting the warm light above your door, “you can't keep doing this, heeseung.”

and a stupid smile makes its way to his face when you call his name. he’s almost thankful he stopped taking the drinks jake kept giving him, it could never even compare the sound he hears now (which he would rather much indulge in).

“hi, baby,” he breathed.

he may or may not remember this night, but he’ll regret it again in the morning.

you scoff at him, “you can’t call me that now, heeseung.” his name felt like acid to his face when you say it that way, but nevertheless lee heeseung lets you burn him—because he deserves it, a faint voice whispers in his head.

“sorry, bad habits.”

what a little liar, he was. because after all, he knows that you know it was, there was never a point for him to utter it in your face.

he doesn’t know what was worse, the venom that kills you or the silence that drowns you? heeseung prefers if you would curse him just a little, maybe he would feel more good with that, maybe it would lessen the guilt that lies heavy in his chest.

but heeseung is addicted, he is addicted to this tryst (you’re not together anymore, he reminds himself) and he still asks you the same question.

“let me in?”

he was bad for you, you knew that. he wonders why you still open your door for him every night his feet takes him to you? you were just as addicted as him, he surmised.

it’s selfish, but he wishes you’d stay the same.

DONE SCROLLING THOUSAND TIMES I KNOW IT’S AN OLD TRICK it’s a very simple formula

for someone who you call as your ex, park jongseong became much more than that to you.

your fallout was something you couldn't call fine, because it isn't. you were a mess—jay wanted to hold you and you can't have yourself fall over the edge just yet.

you weren't ready and he was.

you and jay are the polar opposite of each other. he was put together, he knows what he wants, he has everything, he is secure with himself. and you are simply not everything he was—it was daunting, it scared you and it was stupid. jay loved you all the same, he was perfect and that became bigger than all the good things you call in your relationship with him.

you knew that dating jay would come with perils and problems, you knew them you would both overcome it. but is love really enough to be an answer, when you were the problem itself?

it is incomprehensible to you, how can someone be capable to love this much?

you never asked him, he couldn't give you an answer that you deserve because of it.

it’s unhealthy—you are calling him again. you really shouldn't, you knew your friends would be disappointed. it's ironic how fast you fall in the abyss of darkness, but you couldn't trust yourself to do the same when he asked you to let him catch you. (familiarity was a variable that played a favor over your heart and jay knew that)

the dial tone rings—once, twice, you hear his voice.

“yn, you okay?” it was immediate and it's soft. it's too much. you're convinced you were cursed. you yearn for it, for him.

he waits for you, as he always does. patiently, as you knew him and he hears the breaths you take, the sniffles, he worries more. he tries to call you out once more.

“lov—” he catches himself from saying it, “hey, talk to me, angel.”

“i’m sorry. i don’t know what is wrong with me, ‘seong,” you try to catch your breath, apologizing as soon as you said it.

god, it breaks something in him, “it’s okay, yn. i got you, yeah?” he’s already at the door taking his keys, he doesn’t have any right, but you need him, right? please say it to him, please need him just one more time and let him hold you this time. as soon as he utters his prayers, you whisper.

“can you come to me..” it was so quiet he almost didn’t catch it, “please?” but he’s glad he did.

when he had declared that he would love one person in his life, he vowed and kept it. park jongseong was in it for you, he knew why you broke things off with him, he understood—like all the times he does. you probably didn't know, but he couldn't get himself to remove the picture of you in his bedside. when you called him a week after, he knew he should hang up the call and let you figure things out by yourself, but he didn't. your number stayed as it was before. he should grant you space and time, but he couldn't. because jay loved you so damn much, it's either you or no one else.

be damned all those fears that lingers with you, because park jongseong wants you and only you.

I WON’T ASK ANYMORE (HOW SWEET IT TASTES) you don’t have to tell me now that i’m without you

one thing that jake fails to understand was how much you think he doesn’t need you as much as you need him. he shoots all your words down before they can leave him out alone.

the nights have always been a nightmare for you, not because of the dark veils in the sky, or the monsters that chase you, but because you can’t sleep. you cannot descend to slumber as you would have when you were a child—it was easier then. now warmth was more of a problem for you, it’s a small problem it shouldn’t really be much to be fuzz over it. a stuff toy would’ve solved the problem just fine, it provided you the same security that lulls you into the night.

except that you have found sanctuary in sim jaeyun—a safe haven that envelopes you deeper into sleep, his warm body offers more than security. serenity and heaven sounds just as the same when he holds you in the night.

but everything should always come to an end, doesn’t it?

you don’t know when the peace he had offered cracks through you and it felt like a burden of guilt you couldn’t understand.

“we can’t keep doing this, ‘yunie.”

he doesn’t get you, confused and bewildered at your sudden statement to him when he sat down on your couch. he thinks you’re playing with him, maybe a prank, one of your silly little ideas. because he is sure as hell you didn’t just call your relationship as something like ‘this’, like it wasn’t worth of anything.

“what do you mean, yn?”

the air feels a little heavier, jake knew then that he wouldn’t like what was ever you were going to say. and he does whatever could save him of his position to you, whatever could shut down every rejection you think of. but before he could even dismiss it, this time you beat him to it.

“let’s stop this, jake. stop pretending like you need me.” you say more firmly.

he frowns at that, he doesn’t need you? are you being serious? “i don’t know what you’re talking about, pretty. because i’m pretty damn sure i’m not pretending here.”

you scoff at that. he doesn’t really get it does he? “aren’t you tired? we aren’t anything jaeyun, you’re just someone who helps me sleep at night and i don’t want to take up your time, i don’t want to use you. we’re nothing more, nothing less than this.”

this—jake hates that word now.

why do you keep using it, why are you reducing your relationship as to something less than what it should? why are you pushing him away now? why were you pretending like it’s nothing? why are you not understanding that you’re not the only one who needs something?

“what’s so wrong with this? with us?”

“everything!”

what’s wrong with that? what’s wrong with holding you in the night to sleep? so what if you don’t know what to label it between the boundaries of romantic and platonic? what was wrong with having you? what was wrong leaning to him? to ask him for help?

his eyes tell you everything you need to know that goes in his head, because you’ve known enough to read him. you were friends since you were fifteen and now you don’t know anymore, but you know him. you can’t lean into him anymore—not when, what you feel now steps over the line of what a friend should be.

(it feels weird now, to have the need to hold someone at night, yet you want it. but you can’t tie down jake, you can’t do that to him.)

jake doesn’t understand what the problem was. he knew the risk of what the two of you had agreed, he was willing to bet on every star that he wouldn’t mind for you to have him.

he doesn’t understand but he knows he loves you, “hold me, then. don’t let me go.” he pleads with you.

you can’t.

I’M FEELING MY OWN WAY I’M IN IT ‘CAUSE ME AND YOU ARE DIFFERENT so i won’t stay, i’m leaving

you and sunghoon has always been an intricate of woven patterns, with spools of threads of your color stitch into each of you. both of you are too much of each other. you used to think nothing could ever sever the tapestry the both of you weaved. that was before he was miles away from home and time was not a challenge to the both of you.

all the memories you remember were now bound with his last words before he left, “take care.”

he was called to train internationally, it was big. he was making a name for himself out there and now his name is called over to be known by the world. you’re always happy for him, you’re proud. sunghoon was made to be in the spotlight, he was made to be loved, he was born to be on a stage where he shines. and you think sunghoon looks pretty, he looks pretty when he’s on the rink, skating. he looks so happy there, a place so far yet so near where you can’t step in and reach.

he looks so happy without you and that was okay, you think to yourself. it’s okay, a repeated mantra sounding in your mind as you watch him through a screen.

waiting wasn’t new to you and wanting him more wasn’t either. you don’t really know what is much worse.

there is a space between that bleeds, an indentation of sunghoon in your heart. cold was a familiar company in your darkened nights, his name was like a ghost of an echo in your home.

it’s okay, you remind yourself again. you’re fine with this.

because he looks so happy when he’s not with you, park sunghoon belongs to the world and it makes you sick—even though you know it’s selfish and it’s disgusting to feel something like this—you realize then, you don’t want to be part of that world, just among the sea of faces he’ll forget.

the picture in the frames looks at you with mockery, his side in everything feels hollow and nothing. he is like the ocean that slips past beyond your fingers, but completely engulfs you wholly, having your lungs deluge in it. it pierces through like an arrow, the same ones where you used to believe it was out of love, before everything comes down.

you love park sunghoon, you really do. in the depths of your heart his name was carved gently and carefully.

a name that would solely have your heart beating in a mile, you've never thought it would just end up bleeding, cut open freshly with his own hands, a heart you have given so willingly and with so much trust that you can ever offer in a silver lining platter. to love boundlessly and endlessly until you’re a void of nothing, but a shell of yourself shriveled. but you can’t stop pouring the wine until it overflows—until it’s empty.

you’re not sure where it started, when all the warmth turned cold, where he decided to give up, you're not sure if you can keep fighting.

you never saw it coming, you’re sure the love the both of you had can overcome anything, it can have your relationship stay afloat through all the storms and tides of problems and indecisions, maybe you’re wrong, maybe it was him, maybe it was bound to happen. you’re too hurt to think about it. but a mirage plays in your mind dauntingly, that you can still have those memories you had together, the thread stands on its own, stretching to its limits, the lines dwindle and your hope dies down together with it.

when did his hands drop yours?

the indentation he leaves is noticeable, you can hardly miss it, after all you felt like you were the letter that got crumpled.

his name echoes around the walls of your home (can you still call it a home if it’s devoid of anything?) a mockery to you, his things were, his conspicuous absence, the darkened place of loneliness, the moonlight bleeds into the window, giving your room an illuminated light, it’s suffocating, and somehow the room seems smaller, closer, a cage or walls of once you knew were the sanctuary of comfort, now stands tall as nothing, but a reminder of the fall apart.

the heart of once you have loved was gone and you’re not sure if you’ll be fine by then. were you even sure of anything at all? living with a ghost of a name in your heart, moving on wasn’t always easy to do, but you hope nonetheless, you hope his name would be nothing, but healed scars from all of the distance.

he comes home on a random wednesday with nothing, but his training suit and eyes that you always adore tired and on the verge of falling. a crazed look of apprehension, sunghoon knew you were slipping through his fingers when you wouldn’t answer his calls anymore and the best thing he could think of was to hold you, physically—so you wouldn’t disappear on him.

when he stands in front of you the words don’t appear in front of him, it’s frustrating.

“why can’t you just leave me?”

and god does he wish you wouldn’t say that to him again.

“i can’t,” he whispers, “i tried and i simply can’t.”

when park sunghoon met you, he started dreaming—he was nine summers then. still has the childlike wonder who held admiration and you were eight who live on the other side of the road from his house, he thinks you were pretty.

like a beautiful sunset he always watches with his sister on the seaside, you always seem to be there for him anyway, catching a glimpse of your face on the side of his eyes. his coach always scolds him for being distracted in the rink, he only responds with,

“sorry, coach. i’ll do better.” he wanted to impress you back then. (he still does.)

the sun shines so brightly it doesn’t miss how it always seems to reflect your smile. laughing at something your friend has told you, he wonders what it was.

back then the two of you didn’t really talk much at first, always the brief gaze at each and little waves. but nothing more, he wishes to talk to you on other days, when the time is slow and the breeze washes all the heat from his face, but he doesn’t, always hesitating, almost made encounters, but by the end of it he’ll just back out the last minute.

it’s almost a surprise how he even managed to call you his, park sunghoon has loved you since the ninth of summer.

you still love him despite everything.

he thinks you are still pretty until now, wearing his old jersey with his name on it on the sidelines, cheering him on top of your voice, he decided right then that he would like to have you always there for him.

—fin.

｡｡｡ ♥︎ likes, comments & reblogs are highly appreciated! hope y'all like this, i went a lil crazy on hoon ㅠㅠ.

[celestoria]

Genshin Impact (Taylor’s Version)

Tags: SFW with semi-angst Characters: Scaramouche, Zhongli, Kaeya, Lyney

Scaramouche (The Way I Loved You)

I miss screaming and fighting and kissing in the rain // it's 2 a.m. and I'm cursing your name // So in love that I acted insane // And that's the way I loved you // Breaking down and coming undone // It's a roller coaster kind of rush // And I never knew I could feel that much // And that's the way I loved you.

Loving you was so frustrating…yet so addicting.

Scaramouche had a complicated way of showing his feelings towards other people and always rubbed them the wrong way. However, you didn’t give up.

You noticed how the same lips that mumbled disdainful complaints were the same ones that would kiss you so passionately under the pale moonlight. His hands that would brutally throw a fight when needed are the same ones that would hold you delicately as he leads you to a secret spot only the two of you know.

Sure, there are times when you wouldn’t meet eye to eye, but in the end, no word would mean as much to him compared to the first time you told him you'll never leave him. Scaramouche felt so alive since he fell in love with you and he would never trade it for the world.

Zhongli (Wildest Dreams)

Say you'll remember me // Standing in a nice dress // Staring at the sunset, babe // Red lips and rosy cheeks // Say you'll see me again // Even if it's just in your wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha // Wildest dreams, ah-ah, ha

Times of old may be memories of the past but those moments shall never be forgotten.

How long has it been since he last saw you? A month? A decade? Centuries? It all feels the same when you’ve lived for 5000 years.

Still, he can’t bear to forget every bit of you, even if it pains him to reminisce about the days you called him yours. He loved how your hair flowed with the wind the first day you met each other during a busy day at the harbor, the distinct scent of your favorite perfume that could easily make his head turn, and even that beautiful shade of red that often smudged on the side of his neck whenever you were going out.

Sometimes your ghost haunts him in his dreams, but alas it was just a figment of his imagination playing what could have been if life was a little bit kinder to the both of you. But if everything is just one Samsara cycle playing over and over again, he promises to love every one of them until Teyvat and Celestia itself ceases.

Kaeya (Cruel Summer)

I'm drunk in the back of the car // And I cried like a baby coming home from the bar (oh) // Said, "I'm fine, " but it wasn't true // I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you // And I snuck in through the garden gate // Every night that summer just to seal my fate (oh) // And I screamed for whatever it's worth // "I love you, " ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

Everyone has their fair share of secrets, and Kaeya was no exception.

But he kept them buried where no one would find them. Like the last time he opened up about his deepest, darkest secret to someone he trusted, Kaeya fears you’ll push him away once he finally comes undone in front of you.

However, it was such a pain to keep things like that. Always yearning for you but never having you. Brave is the kindest word you can call a fool, so call him the most foolish man on earth when he poured his heart confessing to you how much his heart aches for you like it's his guilty pleasure.

He was ready for rejection to kick him in the guts like a horse, but instead, he was meat with your flushed cheeks and warm smile. To him, he felt like he was confessing shame, but to you, it was the few words you always wanted him to say.

The weight of pining finally fell off his shoulders, freed with the knowledge you always felt the same way for him. Kaeya’s thankful that even though luck often refused to be on his side, it gave him this small chance to find something sweet to make everything seem a little less cruel.

Lyney (Today was a Fairytale)

But can you feel this magic in the air? // It must have been the way you kissed me // Fell in love when I saw you standing there // It must have been the way // Today was a fairytale

To him, loving you felt like a romance novel, always making his heart flutter like the wings of doves flying out of his hat. It must have been love at first sight, the way your enthusiastic, wide-eyed smile became enthralled with his street performances as you stood amongst the crowd.

How lucky he is that fate allowed him to have someone always by his side. Though he was the magician between the two of you, you were always the one taking his breath with whatever you had to offer.

You seem to know how to make his gloomy days a little bright with a bright smile, how to make the simplest gifts feel like the grandest gestures with him, and how to make real life feel like a fairytale that he thought would only be possible in children’s books. The sun always seems to be burning on his cheeks whenever you try to kiss him.

Even though he knows every magic trick there is, how in the world he managed to pull such a beautiful person like you will always remain a mystery to him. That must be destiny’s own little magic, he guessed — always finding a way to let two people tied with a red string of faith find each other in a chaotic mess of a world.

[isa-ghost]

Hey, do you have any Phil & Charlie hcs or perhaps Phil & Foolish?

I'm having such a struggle picking which fucking one to do bc on one hand Foolish probably has more material to work with but on the other I've seen Phil and Charlie interact so much (but like outside of qsmp) that I'd have a way better idea of their dynamic. Charlie Slimecicle log on qsmp more often you talented fuck.

Anyway we're gonna attempt some Phil/Foolish ones. I think they're called Immortals or some shit?? Idr.

qPhil headcanons masterlist

Phil had no fucking clue what Foolish's deal was prior to being paired with him on Bolas. He knew he was a goofy happy-go-lucky and talented guy that?? Maybe had allegiances with the Feds?? Hard to tell?? He thought it was a bit tbh. But Purgatory opened Phil's eyes up and he learned that yeah, he's kinda right to a degree. But there are still layers to Foolish despite how Just Vibing he is.

And holy shit can he TELL Foolish has the capacity to be terrifying. You're telling me an immortal shark-totem hybrid doesn't have the ability to kill a motherfucker violently??? NAH. Phil can tell if enough of the right buttons are pushed, Foolish would snap and tear a bitch to shreds. Likely for Leo.

Phil's not entirely sure he can trust Foolish bc he's so unclear about where his loyalties lie, but Phil CAN tell that Foolish keeps it that way for a reason, and Phil thinks it's smart. Despite not entirely trusting him, he believes Foolish wouldn't like. Sell out his friends for a corn chip, yknow?

Now when you take all the serious out of these two though, THEN it gets interesting. Foolish is one of the islanders that has the easiest time getting Phil to let loose. It's just contagious, Foolish is too silly.

At the same time Phil looks at him and is just like ???? How the fuck does he smile through the horrors like that ???? Like clearly he's aware Situations suck and he's anxious like anyone else so how does he have the willpower to be silly and chill???? Phil envies it. He's too full of anxiety. Survivalist's curse.

Foolish's laugh is pure serotonin to Phil. And kryptonite, Foolish's laugh makes Phil laugh. He can't help it. Motherfucker sounds like a window washer squeegee thing when he's dying.

They have 2 very different flavors of immortality to me and while I don't know how a conversation about it would go bc Foolish is so casual and Phil is so? Not secretive but like. Not nonchalant about it? There's still something there that the ccs should cook on. I'm begging them to, in fact.

Also something about how one of them has deep ties to the air and the other technically has deep ties to the sea. Something about that. Especially when used in like, a serious situation. Like spying on the Federation or some shit. Do you see my vision. Using their inborn abilities to their advantage while in collaboration with each other for the sake of them and their friends. Do you see it.

Phil: Gifting shed feathers to trusted loved ones 🤝🏻 Foolish: Gifting lost shark teeth to trusted loved ones

I don't headcanon Phil as a short king like the entire rest of the fandom apparently does but obviously Foolish is fucking enormous compared to 99% of people, Phil included. If Phil could fly he'd spitefully hover just a little higher than Foolish's full height just to mess with him.

FUCKING. TALENTED BIG BUILDS DUO. SHAKING THEM BY THE SHOULDERS WHEN WILL THEY COLLAB. (The kids beg for this often)

Foolish has no idea if he's some kinda deity or if he's just immortal with some kinda weird totem roots and it drives Phil insane bc the hardcore deities have such a different energy than him yet you're telling him (maybe) both are divinity??

Speaking of the hardcore deities, Phil desperately wants to introduce Foolish to the Ocean Overlord bc they're (maybe) both himbo gods with some sort of tie to the ocean that are just vibing their asses off. (Oh my god wait I'm cooking on that idea. Doozers let's cook together on this).

Phil is jealous that Foolish can still swim, the thing he's deeply connected to (esp with those cosmetic fins he has) but he can't fly, the thing he's deeply connected to. But really it's just that Foolish is lucky bc the Federation would have to horrifically butcher him more or less in order to take away his ability to swim properly. Phil's easier to forcibly contain.

Believe it or not, if a situation arose where it was necessary, Phil would pick Foolish for his team (again) in a heartbeat. He may not be as passionate about fighting as Etoiles, or as ruthless as Fit, but hes powerful nonetheless, a trusted friend, has been in that situation with Phil before, and is a beacon of positivity; excellent for morale. Silly disposition and weird alliances aside, Foolish is an invaluable addition to a team from an objective perspective.

[ukiyoryn]

Hermione barely noticed his arrival. By the time he stepped into her cubicle, her desk was a disaster zone of half-open tomes, scribbled notes, and a half-drunk cup of tea.

She immediately pointed towards the exit, which was… just the walkway. “Absolutely not.”

“Morning, Granger,” Draco drawled, leaning against the cubicle wall. It wobbled, and he gave it a cursory glance of disapproval before standing straight again. “Sorry, I already tried. Kingsley thinks I’m the one who needs to babysit you. Thrilled to be here.”

Hermione sighed and went back to work.

She didn’t bother to look up as she thumbed through the pages of two books at the same time. “I don’t need a babysitter, Malfoy. And I’m busy.”

“So I see,” Draco said, eyeing the chaotic desk and, more importantly, the ominous crate. “What’ve you got there?”

“A delivery.”

“Very quick off the mark, aren’t you?”

She narrowed her eyes, flicking a glare his way, before flipping two pages. “I believe there are some cursed artifacts from Japan inside.” She waved her wand over the crate, muttering diagnostic charms. “I just haven’t been able to open it yet.” The diagnostic glittered into being, sparkling various red and purple hues before exploding into shimmering dust.

“I’m assuming that’s not supposed to happen?”

Her nose wrinkled. “No.”

“How long have you been at this?”

“All fuc—” she cleared her throat, forced a placid smile, and then tried again. “All day.”

She finally resigned to look at him, sitting back in her own squeaky swivel chair, she let her gaze dart over his person. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d actually spoken to Malfoy. Perhaps two years ago during a New Year’s party at Seamus’s pub?

He looked the same, and by the same, she meant otherworldly attractive and annoyingly posh.

He was still overwhelmingly tall compared to the average wizard—not that she expected him to shrink any time soon—but it was still jarring to witness up close. That shock of pale hair remained coiffed and shiny no matter the state of his person or the time of day, and Hermione found herself glaring at his otherwise perfect, punctilious, prim appearance.

His Auror robes were, of course, immaculately pressed and somehow looked to be without a single hint of lint or even a rogue strand of hair. She resisted the urge to look at her own robes, knowing they must be frumpled and stained from the hours she had spent crouched in various positions all throughout her cubicle.

“I figured, given the state of your hair.”

Her brows nearly hit her hairline beneath her charmed bangs, cast daily to remain in a near perfect state of just enough wispy-ness (humidity non-withstanding). She immediately pat her mane of chestnut curls, no longer frizzy and untamed as they once had been in her girlhood. Her expression darkened when the beginnings of a grin began to overtake his mouth.

Her hair charms were still perfectly fine.

Wanker, she thought, eyes turning into little slits.

Swot, his answering sneer replied.

“So, aside from your failure in figuring out what you’re looking at, what are your thoughts on why exactly my presence is needed?”

“I assume it has something to do with my overwhelming status of importance within the Ministry.”

Her smile was not coy, but positively catty.

“Yes, yes, the Wizarding World’s Leader of Innovating Ideas. I rather believe the title suggests all you know how to do is bore an audience to death with useless knowledge.”

“I’ll have you know I have a combined number of eight degrees, two of which are mastery’s and one a doctorate—”

“—Granger, I jest.”

She snapped her lips together into a tight line.

He waved a lazy hand towards the crate, resigning himself to accept their current predicament. She begrudgingly did the same.

“Catch me up to speed.”

So, she did, and somehow, Draco did not appear to be the least bit bored. He asked her questions, parroted her answers back for clarity before he streamlined some of his own opinions and observations.

[area50thdream]

Chapter.3. 1/…

“The long journey begins…”

Note: I knew i took a while but its there 😅. Anyway this chapter is quite long compared to the others but i had to spit it in to more parts since there wasn’t enough space. If youd like to read more comfortably i also uplode the story on ao3 under the same user name as already mentioned <3

I was unsure how long I had looked at him now. The night had passed without a single disturbance. Sometimes the wind had picked up as if to lighten the heavy atmosphere. As I gaze at him, I slowly become aware of his wounds. He was also incredibly thin. The last time I had seen him was the day he had taken Nephthys to wife. He was so unbelievably happy that day. Even though he had not shown it to the people around him.

Throughout the night the small boy had ended up leaning against me. The nights were cold, so seeking the warmth of another was an instinct of the humans. As the sun slowly began to rise, I had to make a decision. I could either stay with Seth and accompany him on his journey trying to find out what had happened in the time I was gone and try to fix it, or I could let him find his own way. As far as I know, he was wearing a cursed bracelet on his wrist, which was not removable. What the curse entailed I still had to find out. Very carefully I move away from the two and walk over to the fire burning nearby. I had to get something to eat. I did not need it, nor did Seth, since he couldn’t starve as a half god, but he could still suffer the pain of an empty stomach. The sun had yet to rise completely as I made my way back to the village nearby. I was not able to get a lot, but I was able to spot a small shop about to open for the day. I got some bread made from Emma wheat and a small pouch of lentils. I also got a bit of honey and wine. Those two items were slightly more expensive but not of high quality. But in the end the honey and wine were not meant to be eaten or enjoyed. They were for treating wounds. I return to the campfire where the small boy sat, now completely awake and poking the cheek of the still sleeping man. “Hey, stop that. He is exhausted”. I mumble and place the bought goods down. “Say, you wouldn’t happen to have a pot of sorts.” He did not speak, but he could hear since he got up and vanished in the high grass. I sigh and walk over to the sleeping man. I pour some wine onto the wounds, and then I dip my fingers into the honey and smear it onto a blood bruise on his arm. I caught myself smiling. Honey was a strange thing. It was sweet, golden, and tasted good. Even better, it helped against throat pains, infections, healing, and is antiseptic. It has always been a good way to get children to take medicine.

I bandage Seth’s wounds and then hear the soft steps of the young boy once more. He had brought a clay pot. “Can you fill that with water?” He nods and runs down to the river and returns. I place the pot down next to the fire on a hot stone so it could heat up. I pour the lentils into the water and stir them occasionally so they won’t burn to the bottom of the pot. Lentils were not the healthiest option, but they were filling. I wait for the whole thing to cook through and then let the whole thing cool down. We had no utensils, so hands it were. Once the lentils were cold enough, I scooped a bit up with my hand and held it out to the boy. “Here.” I mumble out and turn back to look at the river. A few hours later I hear something stir beside me. I look over at Seth, who was slowly waking up. He very slowly sat up as if he was contemplating the situation. His eyes fell down to his legs, where he saw the bandages. I was glad he had woken up. Somehow he still reminded me of the small boy he once was. As if in shock, he turned to look at both me and the boy.

~ <3

[marie-swriting]

Last Time - Stuart Twombly

Masterlist

Romance Masterlist

Summary : You've been sleeping with Stuart since the beginning of your internship at Google. After every night spent together, he always claims it's the last time but he always comes back.

Warnings : set during the movie, hooking-up, implied smut, drinking (be careful with your alcohol consumption), nightclub and stripteasers, a bit of angst, happy ending, maybe some grammatical mistakes as English is not my first language, tell me if you see some or if I missed any warnings.

Word count : 3k

French version on Wattpad

French version on Tumblr

Song Inspiration : This Love by Camila Cabello

You squint your eyelids as the first sunray comes into your bedroom at Google’s. You slowly raise while wrapping your bare chest with your sheet. You notice Stuart getting dressed, ready to leave like a thief in the night, again. When he came to see you yesterday, you didn’t know how to resist him even when you knew how it was going to end. Like every time. You think you’re really pathetic to let him have that much power over you.

“What time is it ?” you ask.

“6:00 A.M. I’m gonna go back to my room.” he informs you, before a silence takes place, “About yesterday-”

“It won’t happen again”, you finish with weariness, “I know.”

“This time, I mean it. If we keep doing-”

“We might jeopardise our internship. I know.”

“We’ll see eachother later, with the team, for the new trial ?” Stuart enquiries whilst scratching his neck.

“Yeah.”

He smiles at you awkwardly one last time and leaves your room, his beanie in hand. You let yourself lay down on your bed again and curse at yourself all at the same time. It’s been a little over a month since this has been happening. Generally, it always begins again the same way : you ignore each other for a few days then he slowly comes back to you and next thing you know, you’re both naked until he tells you it’s the last time. It’s like a never ending story. The more the time goes by, the more you feel like he takes you for a fool. You wish for once, he’d keep his words when he says it’s over. You can’t take it anymore. Everytime, you build up walls, trying to get used to the idea that it won't happen again but he takes a perverse pleasure to make them fall again and again. You feel like you’re just a game for him. You wish you could say it didn’t affect you that much but yet, everytime he comes back just to leave once more, your heart tightens a bit more in your chest. You’re totally overwhelmed by it. Besides, as your internship goes by, the more your feelings for Stuart get stronger to your dismay. Yet, boys were the last thing you had in mind when you came here. 

Upon arriving in the team's meeting room, you realise you’re the last one. You freeze for a second when your eyes fall on Stuart, but you act as if it was nothing. No one knows about… you two ? Well, if we can use that word to describe it, indeed despite your intimacy, Stuart reminds you often ‘you two’ doesn’t exist. You keep your pseudo-relationship a secret to avoid a weird atmosphere in the team, the balance between each of your personality and your age compared to Billy and Nick is already very fragile.

A week has gone by since your last time. You feel some relief to know he still hasn’t come back. Maybe this time he was serious about it ? You’d be lying if you said there hasn’t been an obvious tension between Stuart and you in the past few days. Albeit your team doesn't know, they feel something happened between you two, though they can’t guess the reason. Nea tried to talk to you about it in private, however you denied everything. You lied to her by saying there isn’t any disagreement between Stuart and you. After all, everything is over, what would be the use in telling her ?

You’re in your room, ready to go to sleep when you hear someone knocking on your door. You open it and find Stuart, his lips pinched together. You feel sick in your stomach, thinking it’s going to happen again like the last times.

“Sorry to bother you, my charger doesn’t work anymore and I wanted to know if you had another one or if I could use yours.” he explains, showing his phone.

“My battery is full, you can use mine now.” you propose.

You’re going to get your charger to give it to him. Though, when he takes it, he doesn’t move from your door. You raise your eyebrows, not understanding what he wants more.

“I’d like to talk to you. Maybe we could do it while my phone’s charging ?”

He gives you his cell and your charger, you go plug it and put the phone on your nightstand. You turn around and see Stuart trying to avoid your gaze. The silence is becoming more and more unbearable so you sit on your bed. You give him a look to invite him to say what he has in mind. He sits next to you and clears his throat.

“You know, maybe we should act like nothing happened. I think the others are guessing there’s something.”

“Yeah.”, you sigh, “Nea even asked me if something happened.”

“What did you tell her ?”

“That nothing happened, she was imagining things. She didn’t seem fully convinced, but she didn’t insist.”

“If it curbs our internship, we’d really need to do something.”

You nod as a simple answer. You both stay silent, not knowing what to add. You avoid his eyes at first before feeling the presence of his body closer to yours. When you turn your head towards him, you notice his lips are only a few inches from yours. You don’t even know how you got there. You know you should back up, nevertheless you feel attracted to him, in spite of yourself. Stuart knows how to bring you back to him. You have no idea if he does this on purpose or not, yet, he can make you succumb slowly again. You don’t have the time to think much longer that you fell Stuart’s lips on yours. You kiss him back as if it was an automatism. Like you’re used to, your body gets closer and closer and you straddle Stuart’s lap. He puts his hands on your hips to have no distance between you two. You feel his hands slipping under your shirt and as if it was an electroshock, you snap out of your transe and break your embrace from him. You run away in a corner, opposite from him, trying to get a grip on yourself and putting your shirt correctly again.

“You said it was the last time last week.” you exclaim, out of breath, “Is that why you came to my room tonight ? Your phone and the conversation were just excuses, weren’t they ? I’m sick of it, Stuart. I feel like this is just a game and I’m the one who gets played. You can’t leave and come back again and again. It’s hurting me.” you admit.

“Sorry, I don’t know what got into me. I meant it when I said it was the last time.” Stuart apologises with red cheeks.

“Yes, just like the time before and the ones before. I always need to build up walls and then you have fun destroying them. I’m tired of it, Stuart !” you lose your temper, “You can’t say one thing and the next time say another one. I’m lost. I don’t know how to act with you, that’s why the team realised something happened between us.”

“Y/N, I swear to you-”

“Keep your explanation for yourself.” you retort before going to your nightstand, “Take your phone back and go ask Yo-yo for his charger. Leave me alone.” you order, giving his cell back.

Stuart lower his eyes before getting up from your bed and leaving your room without saying anything else. When he closes the door, you run your hand on your face, sighing. It’s the first time you’re able to stop yourself before it goes too far. On one hand, you consider this a victory but on the other hand, he still got into your head for a second. You wish he didn’t have that much effect on you. If you could, you’d go back in time and make sure to stay far away from him. You shouldn’t have talked to him and become friends with him, you should've listened to your brain and focus on your internship.

After your last altercation, you haven’t said another word to Stuart. You try to avoid him as much as you can, despite the circumstances. Unfortunately, that night, you have to stay in his presence longer than you’d want to. Your team needs to create an app and neither of you has an idea so with the team, you’re still in your room, making knots into your brain.

The more the time goes by, the more panicked you all are. It’s the second to last trial so you can’t make a mistake if you want a job for the next year. From time to time, Billy and Nick try to propose some ideas but they have already been done. What annoys you the most in the situation is that they don’t seem stressed about the fact you got nothing. The teamworks is really complicated with them sometimes. You feel like they don’t understand how important this internship is for you. 

“You know what ? We should get out, change our mind.” Nick says without a warning.

“We need to find an idea for our app. We don’t have the time to go out.” you retort, massaging your temple.

“You’re always working. It’s not by racking your mind you’re going to find a solution, trust me.” he says before getting closer to his friend. “Trust us.”

“Alright, but not too long.” Lyle accepts, “We really need to work.”

After a meal in an Asian restaurant, Nick brings you to a bar, on the advice of a person from the restaurant. When you arrive in the place, you all discover Nick in reality made a mistake while translating. It’s not a bar, it’s actually a nightclub, like the stripteasers prove it to you. You instantly feel embarrassed, like the rest of the group. Some women get closer to you, especially to the boys. One of them comes in front of Stuart who has his nose in his phone. When he raises his gaze, he’s surprised at first, then his eyes go wider when the stripteaser takes his fingers and puts it in her mouth. You can’t help but open your eyes wide as well when you see the action. Without saying anything else, Stuart follows the women in another part of the club whilst you stay by Nea’s side.

Thirty minutes later, they’re all having fun and drinking alcohol. As for you, you stay in the booth, a drink in your hand. You don't really want to dance with Nea or see Stuart having fun with another woman. This night is definitely in your top three of the worst nights of your life. 

Notwithstanding, you try to see the good side by thinking Stuart doesn’t come your way with his hormones yet you’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you feel something to see him leave with that woman. You don’t like to be eaten by jealousy. You finally got what you want : Stuart away from you but at the same time your body only wants one thing, to have him again. Stuart doesn’t make you think rationally and you hate that, you hate him for that.

“Not having fun ?” Nick asks you as he sits next to you.

“I’m not in the mood to party.”

“Y/N, you’re 21, it’s time to enjoy yourself. After that, it’ll be too late, believe me.”

“I have too much in mind to enjoy myself.”

“Ah ! It’s because of a boy, isn’t it ?” he states, smiling. “Maybe I know the guy who is turning your head.”

“Nonsense ! I’m worried about the app we still haven’t made yet because of you and Billy’s brilliant idea.”

You put your drink down on the table in front of you violently before standing up, angry at what he said. You only take two steps when Stuart comes in front of you with a huge smile on his face. Apparently, he just had a great time. You see him open his mouth, ready to talk, but you cut him off.

“You shut up, I absolutely don’t want to hear you !”

You go in the club’s bathroom to splash some water on your face, hoping it’ll calm you down. You’re surprised to know you got easily riled up. The situation with Stuart is irritating you more than you thought.

Ten minutes later, you leave the bathroom and go meet the group. However, you find them on the verge of getting thrown away by the bouncers. Confused, you follow them out of the club and Yo-yo informs you they got into a fight, that’s why they had to leave. Sometimes, you wonder why you didn’t make more effort to get into another group.

You end up in a place near the Golden Gate Bridge to sober up, well actually for them to sober up because besides two drinks, you didn’t drink anything else so you’re fine. Lyle is completely wasted while the others are hungover.

You’re on a bench, away from the others. Your annoyance is too strong for you to laugh at their alcoholic antics so you prefer to stay alone and enjoy the coolness of the morning. You need thirty minutes to finally laugh at Lyle’s actions. He says a lot of nonsense which is really different from what he usually does. From afar, you can see Stuart talking to Nick. You wonder what they’re talking about before you can’t stop yourself from doing it. Stuart needs to stop being on your mind 24/7. Speaking of Stuart, you see him get closer to you. He sits next to you so you refuse to look at him, keeping your gaze on the landscape in front of you. 

“Could we stop avoiding each other ?”

“When we don’t, they notice there’s something between us… I mean there was.” you retort drily.

“I said we wouldn’t sleep together anymore, not that we should stop talking.”

“Except that when we do talk, you always wanna get in my pants. So I prefer keeping my distance.”

“I didn’t want to ruin our friendship.” he admits, “you’re an amazing person.”

“Less amazing than the other woman at the club.” you murmur.

“What ?”

“Nothing.” you tell him, not wanting to show your jealousy.

“Y/N, I swear I never meant to play with you or ruin our friendship. When I kissed you the first time, I don’t know what got into me. It shouldn’t have gone this far. I apologise.”

“We’ve talked about it a thousand times, Stuart.” you sigh, looking at him, “I feel like we go around in circles. Either you want me or you don’t. But you can’t leave and come back whenever you feel like it.”

“I know.”

“Why do you do it then ?” you ask him, desperate.

“I don’t know.”

“Wow, you know how to talk to women.” you say sarcastically. “Fuck this love.” you mutter before standing up.

“Wait. I care about you, Y/N.” Stuart holds you back while taking your hand in his, “More than I’d like to and I think that’s why I leave and come back. I don’t want to lose you but I don’t know if you want me.”

“I wish you had talked to me about this instead of hurting me. At least, I’d feel less shitty.” you throw at him before leaving him alone.

Your team’s hangover ended up giving you an idea for an app which earned you a lot of points. Although you’re happy to see your internship is going well, you can’t help but feel perturbed by what Stuart told you earlier. Did he mean it ? Or did he only want to put you in his bed again ? He said he cared about you however you don’t know if you should believe him. After all, you got disappointed so many times by him in a month and a half…

As your trial is over, you walk to your room to finally get some rest. Between the sleepless night and the app you had to do at the last minute, you don’t have energy anymore. You dream of only one thing : the comfort of your bed. You’re about to open your bedroom’s door when you hear someone screaming your name. 

“Y/N !”

“Stuart ? What do you want ?” you question as he comes in front of you.

“I’m tired of hiding.” he drops, “I really care about you, Y/N. You’re a smart, funny and beautiful person. I was stupid for always leaving and coming back, you don’t deserve me to do this to you. You were right this morning, I should have talked to you about what I felt before screwing everything up. It’s just, I didn’t know if you’d want a relationship with me so I was okay with what we had and you seemed okay with it too, except I ended up hurting you and I’m terribly sorry about it. I know I’ve ruined all my chances with you, but if I could at least have you as a friend, it’d make me happy. Y/N, I promise you, if I could go back in time, I’d confess my feelings for you way before so you wouldn’t hate me now.”

“I don’t hate you.” you correct him, staring at him.

“You don’t ?”

“I have been disappointed by you, that’s for sure. You’ve messed with my brain, that’s the least we can say, but I can’t help and fall back into your arms because I care about you, too.” you admit to him, “I know I’ll probably regret what I’m about to say but if this time, you promise to communicate with me, to not run away at the first hesitation, I’d like to be friends with you again. Even if I have feelings for you, I can’t promise you we’ll get back together, I need to fully trust you again before getting into a relationship. But I can’t act as if I wanted to stay away from you. Let’s try one last time.”

“One last time is all I ask.” Stuart smiles with a hopeful look.

In the end, this last time ended up being different from the previous ones. Your relationship with Stuart has finally been able to blossom into something beautiful, like both of your hearts wanted it so much.

Masterlist

Romance Masterlist

{This is my side blog so I'll be answering comments under the username @marie-sworld}

[agustdenovo]

Eye of the Storm (Yoongi's POV.)

➻ pairing: hyyh yoongi x hyyh jungkook AKA min cein x jeon jeha

➻ genre: hyyh!au, based in the bangtan universe, pure angst bc is it ever anything else with these two? 😭

➻ summary: Yoongi can't live without Jung Kook. Yet, the only sensible thing to do is push him away, he tells himself.

➻ wordcount: 573

➻ released: 21st of june, 2024.

➻ author’s note: my first published work here hsjfshds this was honestly just something i wrote on a whim!! but!! i hope i've done these two justice, hyyh makes me bawl every 2-3 business days :')

disclaimer: i do not ship any of the actual bts members with each other, nor will i ever in the future. this is about hyyh yoonkook, characters from the BU, NOT the bts members yoongi and jungkook.

crossposted to ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56794450

I am a whirlwind of destruction. A tsunami batters my heart, my head is ravaged by perpetual sandstorms and yet no force of nature can hope to inflict even an atom’s worth of damage as I have done so already.

I am a storm, and Jung Kook is right in the eye of mine. He stands there, unflinching, and I, like a coward, decide to abandon him once more.

The light in his eyes makes me violently ill.

“Why didn’t you go see Jung Kook? Don’t you know what you mean to him?”

He said my music makes him want to live. I can’t steal that away from him.

I know what I mean to him. Of course I do, which is why I can’t let him stay. He has stars in his eyes, and I pluck them right out with the coarse words climbing up my throat, leaving my lips like dry lumps of coal. And despite every bone in my body yearning to see his teeth peek out in that smile of his again, I shirk his gaze. He calls me hyung. I call him something far worse.

I can’t tell if I’m the pathetic one for always leaving, or Jung Kook for always staying. My arms are tattered with his claw marks from all the times he refused to let me go. They’re my favourite scars. I rub my arms raw, trying to make them disappear.

“Go home, Jung Kook.”

Futile. Streamers of light from his eyes wrap around me, trapping me, glueing my feet to the ground. No diamonds can even hope to compare with his, twinkling in his waterline from the misty yellow and blue lights from nearby skyscrapers.

I curse. I yell at him to go away, but he refuses to budge. His conviction is almost as strong as my anger.

Or maybe he’s just as stupid as me, because he walks over and gives me a hug; like he isn’t the Sun itself. And I, the Moon, foolishly orbiting Terra when my existence revolves around a star.

Warmth seeps into the crevices of my heart. Jung Kook wants to save a man cursed from his very creation. Cursed to cycles of dolour, a samsara of misery. Yet, I can’t muster up the energy to push him off. His arms around me feel like relief and torture all in one. Liquid drips onto my neck. Fruitless to ponder upon its source.

Only after a long minute does he let go. I stare into red-rimmed eyes. My voice sounds unfamiliar when I choke out the same words again, and I clench my fists until my jagged nails draw blood.

“Go home.”

Tonight seems like a good night for a stiff drink. I wonder if the corner store will still be open at this time, instead of thinking about the crestfallen look on Jung Kook’s face. No matter how many times I cause it, it will never cease feeling as if a dagger were twisted into my very soul.

“Promise me you’ll come see me tomorrow.”

I turn and walk away, before Jung Kook can say more.

Maybe if I pretend he isn’t there, he’ll leave and not foolishly come back, for once.

Maybe then I won’t be forced to spit out grimy words and act like it isn’t killing me, for once.

Maybe, that way, I’ll be able to save Jung Kook from my cursed fate, for ever.

[tala-bez-i]

At first sight Chapter Forty-One

(m!reader x Bonten!Haruchiyo Sanzu)

Fluff/slash/reader is male/cursing/BontenTimeline/drugs and alcohol mentioned/violence/blood/death

All characters that appeared in the Tokyo Revengers manga and anime belong to Ken Wakui.

Words: 3490

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

It was well after midnight when you finished reading and comparing all the police reports your sister had given you. Some of them had a few handwritten notes on them, but the most interesting thing for you was the last page in the cardboard folder. 

It contained a list of confirmed and potential hideouts of Yuji L/n that the police had managed to determine so far, as well as the ones that Tomoko suspected after reading the same documents you had in front of you. 

You decided that this was information that would be worth sharing with Sanzu, sending people to check out these apartments scattered around the surrounding cities for you. 

You leaned back in your chair and rubbed your eyelids, sighing slightly. You were starting to feel tired again and you knew that a third cup of coffee wouldn't do any good. You looked at the phone that had been silent until now and began to wonder again why Sanzu hadn't shown up yet. 

Had he changed his mind and gone to his apartment after meeting with Mikey? 

Before you made the decision to dial his phone number, you heard the front door to your house open and just after closing it, someone dropped the keys on the floor. You heard a curse and a giggle that you knew very well. 

You got up from behind your desk and went to the office door to check what state Sanzu was in, but you only managed to see a fragment of his pant leg as the man went up the stairs to the floor. 

“Sanzu?” You called from downstairs and your partner walked down a few steps, surprise written all over his face. 

"You do not sleep?" He asked. “It's almost 1 a.m...” 

“I was working on the reports from Tomoko.” You looked at him more closely and the corners of your mouth twitched upwards slightly. Not only had he taken drugs, but he had clearly been drinking alcohol. “I guess you had a good time, hmm?” 

“Excellent.” He answered you with a wide smile and a twinkle in his eyes. His pupils were dilated, and he seemed re-energized. “We got two new girls today as debt repayment. Seriously, families give away such little diamonds for such ridiculously small amounts of money.” 

He leaned against the railing and looked deep into your eyes. “Of course, we had to check how much they were really worth.” 

You shook your head, knowing full well what that meant. “And?” 

Sanzu pursed his lips slightly and rolled his eyes. “They’ll learn. Until then, they will practice a lot.” His pale pink lips stretched into a mischievous smirk and he gently ran his fingers through your hair. “Did you find anything useful?” 

“Yes. I have a list of his current addresses and more where he could have potential hideouts.” You explained and the man nodded. 

Suddenly he grabbed your face with one hand and dug his fingers into your cheeks. You looked at him in surprise, his face expressed coldness and concentration, his eyes calmly moving over your face. 

“One more time, I will see or find out in another way...” He leaned forward slightly, a cold warning echoing in his voice. “That you went to that fucking store alone while that slut works there...” He smiled, pulling you closer. “Then believe me, I won't be as nice as I am now. Do we understand each other, honey?” 

“Yes.” You replied, trying to stay completely calm. “I'm sorry.” 

Sanzu loosened his grip on his fingers and moved his hand to your cheek, giving the gesture a tender look. His other hand brushed the loose strands of your hair away from your forehead and rested on your other cheek. 

“Don’t let me down, Y/n.” He said in a quieter voice. “I agreed to make a concession and share you with your immediate family. No one else has the right to flirt with you, and you, my sweet lover, have no right to respond to such advances. Do you understand?” 

“Absolutely. Forgive me, Sanzu.” 

He leaned over the railing even more and kissed your forehead, sending a shiver down your spine. You knew what Haruchiyo was capable of, and you also knew that he wouldn't hesitate to hurt you if he saw even the slightest sign of any betrayal. 

He caressed your cheeks and looked at you again, this time his smile was more genuine, and gentle. 

“Well then. We will go to the hideout tomorrow and give Mikey everything that Ko-chan gave you.” He took his hands away and gestured for you to go upstairs with him. "Now, it's time to go to bed. You need to get some sleep, because tomorrow I have to visit a few places, and you'll be my companion." 

You obediently followed his instructions and half an hour later you were both already lying in your bed and you, looking at the pink-haired man who was still checking something on his phone, fell asleep. 

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

You woke up as soon as the first rays of sunlight crept into your bedroom through a gap in both curtains covering the window. You looked at Haruchiyo's still sleeping form and his handsome face, which was filled with peace. 

You looked at his long, thick eyelashes, which you adored, and your eyes rested on his pale, slightly parted lips. You swallowed and approached him slowly and carefully enough not to wake him. 

You leaned down and kissed him, completely ignoring the quality of his breathing, typical after a few hours of sleep. When it came to the person you loved, it didn't bother you at all. 

His lips didn't respond in kind, but when you pulled away, the man closed his mouth, moving it slightly, as if he was tasting an unexpected new flavor. He mumbled quietly under his breath and turned his head slightly to the side. You smiled and brushed his longer hair away from his neck and shoulder, giving yourself better access to his bare skin, which you began to kiss gently. 

You began to gently suck on his skin and scrape it with your teeth, knowing full well that in the next few moments, you would leave the man a lovely hickey. Sanzu's only reaction was to inhale more sharply through his nose and move his hands more to the sides. 

You pulled away, checking if your action had the desired effect, and one corner of your mouth lifted. The red spot on your lover's neck looked good and was at just the right height for him to hide it behind his shirt collar, and if it did become more visible, he could always blame it on some girl he might have managed to lure to his apartment for the night. Who would check on him? 

You looked back at the sleeping man's face and pursed your lips, curious to see how far you could go before he woke up. You gently grabbed the sheet that covered him and slowly began to slide it off of him, revealing more and more of his bare, pale skin. 

When one of his nipples showed, Sanzu moved his hand behind his head, but his eyes remained closed. His breathing was still calm and his body showed no signs of waking up, so you slowly began to place kisses on his hard chest. 

You gently touched the tip of your tongue to his hardening nub and took it into your mouth. His breathing froze for a moment, but it quickly returned to normal and a quiet groan escaped the pink-haired man's lips. 

"Mm-hhmm..." His other hand came up and he placed the back of his hand on his forehead. 

You lifted your head, holding back your laughter and waited a moment, but as soon as Sanzu began to snore softly, you leaned down again and went back to playing with his nipple. As you began to suck on it gently, your partner moaned again and moved his leg slightly. 

You moved away again and pulled the sheet down further, this time revealing his flat, muscular stomach and the slightly raised material of his pajama pants over his crotch. You gently ran your finger over the spot and Haruchiyo let out another moan. 

You had never managed to get this far while he was asleep before, so you decided to try your luck and slowly, carefully, you pulled down his pants, revealing his slightly aroused manhood. You directed your eyes to the man's face and carefully began to caress him, stroking his cock. 

You watched every, even the smallest, movement of his. Every change in his handsome face and as soon as his breathing quickened, a charming blush began to appear on his cheeks. 

You felt a drop of moisture under your fingers and when you looked at the head of his penis, you saw a drop of pre-cum, suggesting an approaching ejaculation. You made a decision, took his hard member in your entire hand and began to move it up and down, returning to watching his face, which began to contort slightly under the influence of pleasure. 

You leaned over his crotch and closed your mouth around the head of his penis. At first, you only used your tongue to caress him, but after a short while, hearing another purr that turned into a long, quiet moan, you started sucking on him. 

You felt the metallic taste of his pre-ejaculate on your tongue and spread his thighs with your hands as much as the elastic sewn into his pajama pants would allow you. When you sucked the head of his penis harder, his body jerked violently and you felt his hand on your head. 

“Fuck, Y/n... Taking advantage of a person sleeping like that is rape!” He said in a hoarse voice, and you looked up at him. 

His face was beautifully flushed, lips glistening from moistening them with his tongue, and he had a half-amused, half-surprised look in his eyes. 

You lazily sucked on his erection and with a loud *pop* released it from your lips, which you immediately licked. 

“You asked for it coming home under the influence of drugs and alcohol.” 

“That doesn’t mean you have to take advantage of my vulnerability right away, honey.” He laughed a little nervously, running his fingers through your hair. 

“Oh, come on, vulnerability.” You mumbled, kissing the base of his cock that rested against your face. “I didn’t start right away… And it’s not rape at all.” 

“And what do you think would be rape, hmm?” 

“This…” You carefully inserted the tip of your thumb into his anus and Sanzu's body jerked again. 

“Fuck! Oh fuck! Y/n... Baby!” The man's bright eyes were wide open and his face turned even redder. “What if there was a surprise there?” 

You moved your finger slightly from side to side. “But there isn't.” 

“Y/n...” His voice was shaky, although he tried to sound serious. “That's disgusting...” 

“If that's the case, why did you blush even more and more pre-cum leaked from your beautiful penis, tempting me even more, hm?” You asked, raising an eyebrow and moving your finger inside his tight hole again. 

“Y... Y/n, please don't.” He groaned and you smiled as his penis twitched involuntarily. 

You slid your thumb out of his hole and began to stroke his tense thigh. “See? I listened to your objection, so it’s not rape.” 

“Fuck…” He sighed, rolling his eyes. His fingers lightly tightened in your hair. “Do you consider only full intercourse to be rape? Would you have to stick your dick in a sleeping person's hole for your little brain to register it as rape? 

You shrugged. “Maybe.” 

“Oral sex can count as that too, you know?” 

You slowly ran your tongue along the length of his member, which was twitching desperately, demanding its release. 

“I don’t think so.” You replied calmly, looking the man in the eye again. 

“What if you were asleep and I started sucking you off?” He asked, frowning slightly, but your response was a growing smile, for which Sanzu tugged on your hair, causing pain. “Pervert. What if a stranger started doing it, huh?” 

You pouted slightly, running your hands over his thighs. “Then I would be angry. But…” You raised a finger, seeing on Sanzu's face that he wanted to say something, to show that he was right. “But, you're not a stranger to me, I'm not a stranger to you. We're together and we love each other, so I will never consider oral sex as rape, while one party is asleep at the time.” 

“Y/n!” Haruchiyo was outraged. 

“End of the subject, Haru. Now, let me finish.” You said again, taking his throbbing member into your mouth, focusing on giving your beloved man as much pleasure as possible. 

“Fucking, stubborn ass…” The other groaned, his fingers tightening in your hair, and after a short while he began to move his hips in perfect synchronization with the movements of your head. “Damn... Hhmmm... Ahh, ahh... Damn perv... Perv... PervertAHHH!” You felt the taste of his seed in your mouth, which shot out of his member almost straight into your throat. “Shit! Y/n!...” 

His heavy panting and moaning resounded in your ears like the most wonderful melody, and when he let go of your hair, you lifted your head to look at him. He covered his face with both hands so as not to look at you, but after a short moment his body shook with a quiet laugh. 

You let his cock fall onto his pants and propped yourself up on one elbow, happily swallowing his cum and licking your lips like a cat after drinking its cream. You watched him with contentment, knowing that you had managed to satisfy him, and as soon as he uncovered his face, you saw joy and satisfaction on it. His bright eyes looked at you from under his lashes and his lips stretched into a mischievous smirk. 

“Don’t tell me you swallowed again, Y/n.” 

“We both know that turns you on, Haruchiyo.” You replied, holding out your hand to him, which he took in his and your fingers intertwined. 

“You know you’re a pervert, honey?” 

“Uh-huh, but I’m your pervert.” Sanzu laughed again and closed his eyes for a moment. 

“God, Y/n… Never take action against me. I’d hate to have to kill you.” 

“I’ll remember.” You kissed his lower abdomen and the man laughed again before reaching for his phone with his free hand to check the time. “Time to get out of bed?” 

“Yeah. Unfortunately, yeah.” He let go of your hand and you moved away from him on the bed, making room for him to get up. “Where do we have to go?” 

“A few clubs that work with us and for some unknown reason are behind on paying interest on protection. Ran and Rindou are dealing with a similar case.” He explained as he took his pajama pants completely off and walked naked to the bathroom. 

You frowned slightly as you followed him. “Really? They are late?" 

“Yes. Kokonoi has been reminding us of this for the past two days. You know how nervous and annoying he can be when the money doesn’t add up.” He stepped into the shower and turned on the water. 

You thought for a moment as you brushed your teeth. This wasn’t the first time this kind of thing had happened, but you couldn’t remember the specifics... 

“Sanfu...” 

“Yes, honey?” 

“When was the last time they didn’t pay us on time?” You asked, starting to wash your tongue. 

The water stopped running and the man’s head appeared from behind the glass shower wall. He looked at you in silence for a moment, then grimaced slightly, frowning. 

“You’re not suggesting that Yuu is hanging around the area again, are you?” He asked in a gloomy voice. 

Exactly. It was like that last time too, with the difference that then he had Kuroda, Nagano, Nagasawa, Sato and the Uchiyama couple by his side... 

You spat out the toothpaste foam and rinsed your mouth. “I'd prefer not to, but I'm not ruling anything out.” You replied with a sigh. “Although on the other hand, it would be in our best interest. We could finally track him down and kill him.” 

Sanzu dried himself off with a fresh towel and threw it in the laundry basket. He wasn't happy about the likelihood of a repeat of all the crap from earlier in the month. He put on fresh underwear and went over to the sink where you were still standing to brush his teeth as well. When he reached for his toothbrush, his hand froze halfway. He stared at his reflection in the mirror in disbelief. 

“Y/n, for God's sake...” He touched the fresh hickey on his neck with his fingers and you puffed out your chest proudly, very pleased with yourself. “Seriously?” 

You laughed, running away from his hand as he was about to smack you in the back of the head. 

“It's not my fault that sometimes I want to leave a little mark on you.” 

“A little? Two fingers wide!” 

“It's not my fault you didn't wake up.” You shrugged, stepping into the shower. 

“A mean creature.” Haruchiyo grumbled, starting to brush his teeth. 

“But seriously, I wouldn't rule out the possibility of Yuji coming back.” You said, soaping up your body. 

“But who would he be working with now? All his pals are dead.” 

“It's not hard to find Bonten's opponents in the area.” You noticed, rinsing off the foam. 

“True. They're nothing but problems.” 

“You know what they say. There's no 100% pleasure in life, it has to hurt.” 

“But to be such a pain in the ass right away?” 

You turned off the water and started drying yourself with your towel. Sanzu was right. No matter how many enemies you crushed, another one always showed up. Not to mention the police themselves. 

You went back to the bedroom to start dressing in clean, ironed clothes and Sanzu looked at his phone again. 

“No breakfast today?” You asked, fastening the bracelet of your watch. 

“You already had yours.” He answered you calmly and you quietly snorted in amusement. “On the way, stop by 7-Eleven and buy me a sandwich and a canned coffee. We'll have a normal lunch later.” 

“No problem. The usual?” 

“Yeah.” He said, fastening his holster, where he had put his gun after checking it out. He put on his jacket and looked at you. “Y/n, when are you going to learn how to tie a tie?” 

“I know how to tie one...” You said, irritated, letting the man take care of it. “It just looks different from this side.” 

“A poor excuse.” He grumbled, smoothing out your shirt. “At least you didn’t cut yourself shaving last time.” 

You pursed your lips, making an offended face. “It’s not my fault I have hands for metal...” 

“I'm made of metal too?” He asked looking into your eyes, so you immediately looked away, feeling your cheeks start to redden. 

“No comment.” 

“Hey, look at me.” With one finger he turned your face, so you were looking at him again. He smiled gently. “I'm glad you can be gentle with me, you know? I love you, Y/n.” He kissed you softly and you wrapped your arms around his waist, pulling him more towards you. 

“I love you more.” You murmured, kissing one of his scars over and over again. “Are you sure we have to go there?” 

“Yeah...” 

“Can't you just dump the job on the Haitanis? You're number 2 after all...” 

“Y/n...” He kissed you again and pulled away from you. “You're starting to act like you're in heat. I'm not your bitch.” 

“And who is the mean one here?” You picked up your holster and started to put it on, but Sanzu waved you off and left the room. 

You heard his footsteps on the stairs and after a moment you heard him closing the cabinet in the kitchen. You started to wonder again if Yuji was actually in the area. True, all of his coworkers were dead, or at least the ones you knew about, but there was a high probability that there was someone else who remained in the shadow of them all. 

You went downstairs and saw Sanzu putting his bottle of pills into his jacket pocket, letting you know that he had just taken his first dose of drugs for today. 

“Maybe you should eat something first?” 

“I'll do it in a few minutes. Ready to go?” He went to put on his shoes, closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them again, his pupils were already dilated. 

You laughed quietly, already feeling sorry for those who decided to cause even the slightest problem to the pink-haired man today and you hoped it wouldn't be you. 

<PREVIOUS/NEXT>

[macabremoons]

Midas' Prologue

TW: Grimoire being himself, sicko for sicko romance, possessive behavior, anxiety, and general dark themes.

Word count: 1.2k

A/N: "Wow, Moon," you ask with sweet innocence, "you're four concept stories in. Are you closer to understanding this wip?" No. No, I'm not. Honestly while I like this I still haven't untapped Grimoire's true insanity. One day, truly. Oh! Sabelina's name has been changed to Annabella <3 Anyway enjoy!!

Rain taps on outside of my tent. I try my best to relax to the sound, but the smell of petrichor takes my mind right back to where it was running from. 

The sword shifts from more to less than an itch away from my face. Cassander smiles down at me, and my mind is flown back to my father. All this effort, and he regards me with the same causal power. 

I bite the inside of my cheek. I can afford this time to recoup, but I can not afford to be consumed by fear. I still have to find a way to get out of Cassander’s hands. I’ve escaped them temporarily, but he will be back, even madder than before now that Grimoire has killed so many of his men. I’ve steeled myself through many things on this trip. Corpses, infected wounds, screaming soldiers. This matter is not different. Rather, I refuse it to be.

The tent flap goes up, and I go deathly still. I resist the urge to cover the tear marks on my face, but then I see who it is and sigh.

“Grimoire, you still need to announce yourself before walking into my tent.” To my delight, my voice doesn’t waver.

“My deepest apologies, my lady. I am a bit tired, so it must have slipped my mind.” 

“Tired? You?”

Grimoire laughs softly, flopping onto his side of the tent.  “Yes, me; tired. As violent by nature might I be, too much of it is still exhausting.”

My eyes dart away. He wouldn’t be so tired if he hadn’t had to save me from Cassander. It strings—seeing my exact failure stare back at me. Worst yet, Grimoire has been very obedient lately, and said obedience allowed me to make mistakes. His resistance before had felt like a curse, but now feels like a blessing in disguise.

“We’ll take a break then. I have many things to do,” I say. He doesn’t reply. He’s drifting off, but he looks tense. “Wait, Grimoire.”

“Yes, my lady?”

“Sleep in my bed tonight. The floor is not enough for proper rest.”

Grimoire opens his eyes, staring into mine. His eyes stake through me completely, but I stand my ground. I must look ridiculous, but if I want respect, I must demand it in any circumstance. A king that can not be mocked by his jester is a coward, after all.

He wordlessly gets up and slides into my bed with me, face down. He’s quite close to my thighs. Too close, even. Though there is only so much space in the bed for him to be comfortable. I’ll just bear through it. 

“Might I ask one question?” Grimoire whispers. 

A single question in a lifetime of servitude. “I don’t see why not.”

“Does the taste of violence satisfy you?”

I begin to regret my kindness immediately. “I’m not sure I understand.”

He turns to look at me. “Violence is blood, and blood is life essence, at least for me. For you it’s power, no? But power at the hands of violence is an acquired taste. Do you like it?”

My fingers curl around the blanket. “I’m not scared of violence.”

“Mhm? I didn’t think so.” His lips ghost my skin, but I am too angered to be embarrassed by it. “No, no. You’ve been in too many battles to be scared of violence. I just don’t see that you enjoy it.”

“It’s a means to an end.”

“So you don’t enjoy it?”

“I am not sadist, Grimoire. Of course I do not enjoy violence.”

“But you enjoy the power it brings?”

Is he of all people suggesting pacifism to me? Grimoire reeks of blood.. He’s washed of it now, but you can see it in his very soul. Or the nook it used to be in. Nothing I could do would compare to him.

“Ah,” Grimoire hums. “That is more than one question. No pressure to answer, my love.”

A way out of this conversation. An easy solution, I do not take those anymore. Grimoire’s words could be excused with exhaustion, or it could be that exhaustion is letting him say what he really feels about me. If so, I need to know this. Grimoire is my greatest ally, and therefore my greatest enemy.

“I do enjoy the power it brings. Words can only get one so far. Or, perhaps ,they could get a different person farther, but I am not in a position to be propelled far by them. You know I had to fight just to be here.”

“Verbally, but yes.”

“We wouldn’t still be here if I did not resort to violence.”

“We wouldn’t be, no.”

The format of his words irk me. “You have more to say.”

Grimoire sighs. “Wouldn’t it be better if you were in the bed, like I am? You deserve rest too, you know. We are not in a battlefield, my lady, no need to be so tense.”

I should deny him, but I am tired. I sink into the bed. A sparkle goes through Grimoire’s eyes, but his expression does not change. Something, too, goes through me. Grimoire is my familiar, but he is still a man. This is the first time I’ve shared a bed with one. 

"Well?" I press.

"Time takes most things despite how tough they are. Maybe I just worry it will take the fire you have with it.”  Grimoire gives another soft laugh. “Or maybe it’s not my place to say at all. Yet, your desire is so warm. Ah, I’d miss it.”

Warm? The rain has me frigid cold, and I can’t stop shivering from fear. Grimoire thinks too highly of me. I wonder if it’s delusion from living for so long or another part of his… charm.

His words make me even colder. He’s slightly right. I find myself not missing the men lost in battle until I have to send letters home. It’s easy to have poison testers until they find poison. Does this make life not worth living? Does this mean that my dreams should not be achieved just because I might feel differently about them years later? An easy answer comes to mind.

“Maybe I’ll puke on the taste of bloody luxury later, but I am certain that starvation kills. I do not have the hindsight to tell you you’re wrong, but—” Words catch in my throat. They scramble away from me, leaving only the truth that lets me sleep at night. “I have to become more than my father’s daughter.”

Grimoire stares into my soul one last time before smiling wide enough I can almost see his fangs. “We will have to find out together then, mhm? I am excited to see it. Whether you like your Midas’ touch or not, I’ll stick with you. High heaven or low hells—they’re all the same to me, my lady.”

“Such is the life of a familiar,” I murmur. My tiredness is catching up to me, but I force myself to stay awake. 

Grimoire leans in closer. “Sleep. No one will harm you by my side.”

As I drift off, I call back to my own thoughts: greatest ally, greatest enemy.

Taglist (ask to be added!!): @anonymousfoz, @stesierra, @leisoree, @immortaladrien, @lyra-brie

[jjkweeb]

Incarnate

Chapter 2 

Getting out of the car you stretch and groan. Your legs are sore from all the driving you’ve done for the day with Geto. He’s getting out of the car right behind you. You turn to see a giant mansion. It's almost creepy the way the fog has settled down around the house and forest yet beauitful at the same time. The gray bricks pair amazingly with the black roof. There are massive black double doors with a shrine symbol on them.  

Sukuna was standing on the deck leaned against one of the giant pillars that lined the deck all the way around the house. Noticing that you and Geto had arrived he pushed off the pillar and walked down to you. He had changed into normal clothes. A pair of dark jeans with a black button down that fit him snuggly showing off everything, and some black boots. His tattoos had seemed to vanish. You choked eyed him up and down. Who knew this man could look so normal to be a cursed spirit? As he walked up to you, he threw you a set of keys.  

“We’re taking my car in case.” 

“Okay. But why did you give them to me?” You tilt your head. 

“I don’t feel like driving.” 

You rolled your eyes looking down at the keys. The key was to an Infinity. 

“Geto, rooms are on the second floor. Each room has its own bathroom. Don’t damage anything.” Sukuna stated grabbing your wrist and walking off. Looking back at Geto he waved to you bye. 

Sukuna’s touch sent a warmth through your body and making your heart race. His touch was gentle compared to what you thought it would be. His hand easily wrapped around your wrist and his fingers over lapped. He dragged you to a garage at the back of the mansion. The garage door opened to a black Infinity with dark windows. Your mouth dropped open. 

“How the hell do you have all this?” 

Sukuna chuckled slight making your ears turn red and hot, “When you’ve been around for a thousand years, money isn’t an issue so it’s easy to get whatever I want.”  

You just looked up at him as he stopped you on the driver's side of the car. Letting go of your wrist he reached for the door handle before setting both hands on the window, caging you. You flushed and swallowed hard staring at him. The warmth of his body washed over you with his scent, a mixture of a coppery woodsy smell. Your body froze under him.  

“Two things y/n.” He looked at you, “one, you better stop eyeing me the way you are. Second, you do not need to be in this war.” 

Your face grew red, and he smirked knowing he caught you, “I can handle myself. You don't know me.” you replied and turned around to open the door.  

He scuffed shutting the door back shut leaning down, “I can tell you're strong, but you're getting into something you may not make it out of. Are you really willing to sacrifice yourself?” He whispered in your ear before pushing off the car, opening your door, and walking to the passenger side and getting in. You growled under your breath gathering yourself and got in. 

The drive to the store was short and quiet, too quiet. You could have heard a pen drop with how quiet it was. Parking the car, Sukuna got out and opened your door. You got out of the car and looked at him a little confused. Women and Children were really his thing. 

“Thanks.” 

He just nodded and walked ahead of you. You soon followed behind him watching everyone around you in the store. Standing at the front of the store deciding on what to get Sukuna spoke up, 

“Grab a few things for the night and I'll get the servants to cook then come get more stuff tomorrow. I got it covered, get whatever you want.” 

Once done at the store, Sukuna loaded the groceries up and opened your door. Once you got in and situated, he shut the door before heading to the passenger side and getting in. Starting the car, you both headed back to his house. The ride was quiet yet again all the way there. Once you pulled up you got out the car and Sukuna took the groceries in giving them to his servants.  

Walking into the mansion was breath taking to the point you stopped in your tracks to admire it. High vaulted ceilings, with a black stairway that leads up to the second floor of the house. The foyer had a table to the left where everyone's shoes were placed after taking them off before walking through the house. The floors were a dark cherry red hardwood and gray walls throughout the house. Sukuna looked back at you then turned around before walking off again.  

“You’re welcome to explore if you'd like,” He explained 

You smiled still standing there, “Why don’t you show me around,” before grabbing his hand and bolting down the hallway dragging him unwillingly before he could avoid you. Sukuna scuffed and followed behind you pulling his hand away from you shoving them in his pockets.  

The first room that you came to was the dining room. There was a long table that could easily seat ten people if not more. The next was the kitchen, followed by going upstairs to the area with all the bedrooms. In the middle was a huge living room set from couches to a tv and coffee table and side tables. There was a huge library at the end of the second floor as well.  

Stopping in front of a door Sukuna pointed to it. You reached for the knob and opened it shocked at how big the room was, not to mention the California king sized bed that was in the middle of the room. It was filled with very neutral tones, mostly different shades of brown.  

“This one is going to be your room.” he said as you walked in, he grabbed your arm pulling you to him, “since you both don’t really have clothes with you, Geto has money to go get him some while you both stay here, I'd like to take you in the morning to get you a few things to make your stay more comfortable. For the time being one of my servants about your size left you a few outfits to relax in till then.” 

You blushed looking up at him before realizing your hands were resting on his chest. You pulled away and rubbed the back of your neck. His tattoos had appeared once again and you hadn't noticed. His eyes were soft and a light to them you didn’t see before back at the forest. Your heart felt like a heard of horses running through a field, sounding like drums in your ears.  

“Thanks, I guess.” You smiled slightly at Sukuna as he turned around to walk away before you could say anything else. 

It had been roughly ten hours since you left Tokyo and the sun was starting to set. The sunlight peaked through the curtained windows. Sitting on the bed relaxing for a few minutes before you got up and showered and went down stairs to eat. The bed was soft, forming to your body almost like a cloud. The comforter was cool putting you at ease and almost to sleep.  

Jumping up to keep from passing out, you walked out to the dresser and opened one of the drawers. There was everything you needed in it. You chose something a little more comfortable, leggings and a T-shirt. Once you gathered your clothes you walked into the bathroom that was attached to your room. The bathroom was just as breath taking as the whole house. 

Once your shower was finished and you had eaten dinner, you went back upstairs to your room and laid down. Your mind was racing over the events of the day. You questioned why Sukuna was being somewhat nice to you since one, he didn’t know you and two the whole deal with him not liking women. What was so special about you? Eventually you drifted off to sleep before you realized.  

[hourglassstationacademy]

Falciette Story Chapter 17

After introducing Mark to the dorm and showing him around… you decided the next day to pay a visit to the infirmary again… as you arrived you saw Daire finally opened his eyes again… however he held onto one of the ledges trying to get up as Tesadelle stopped him.

“You should rest, or else-”

“Tell me where he is.. I need to find him.”

He was almost yelling as a face entered the infirmary and every Falciette member suddenly looked in anger… it was Andrew who came in, with a bundle of flowers.

"YOU…. IT'S ALL YOUR FAULT!”

Daire walked up to him a bit wobbly and suddenly punched him in the face.

“IF YOU DIDN’T RUN AWAY! IF YOU DIDN’T START COMMOTION! MY SISTER WOULD HAVE-”

Suddenly he felt someone grab his fist… it was Gabrielle to his surprise.

“Stop it… he may be terrible but… you know he isn’t the only one to blame… or not the main cause.”

She put a broken gem in his hand… the same Despoina had around her neck.

Daire clutched onto it and cried. 

"She suffered from a curse as well…she suffered and didn't show it to any of us…we should have noticed the signs earlier… and I know Daire why you couldn't tell… we all are to blame… not just one person." 

A silence settled in the room yet instead of an answer from Daire to this…he suddenly slumped over and Gabrielle held his fall. He was unconscious again… some tears in his face… even if Gabrielle was weak herself from the injuries she tried to lay him back in bed and speak to the others in the room.

“Listen up… I, as your dorm leader for now, will likely still need to recover and think about this… my wounds sting and… there is a lot my brain is thinking about… even as the unshakable warrior you might have seen me before….. I am just… tired…”

It was hard for her to speak… she was far different from what she was before, those tired eyes seemed empty… as Tesadelle stepped up to stand before her.

“That is why… I will for now take over the duties my sister has still she recovers… and Inanna will be assisting me… for what happened… for everyone… we need to be strong and get up… fix the damages that happened in the dorm… it will never be a fire forgotten… the wounds probably will never fully heal but… “

She wiped a tear away and put her hand next to her, on Daire’s… even if he wasn’t awake it seemed he reacted slightly… 

“But… we will take this as a reminder… to not lose sight of ourselves and speak up… my sister and I still have this curse but… maybe together… we can find a cure to all those curses… all those demons each of us suffers off.”

The other dorm members nodded, you slowly were on your way out… as you found Andrew sitting on one of the steps outside the infirmary… somewhat holding his face in his hands. 

“Don’t worry I heard what they talked about… I really am unfit to be her husband after all…”

He stood up from the step and left as one Sylvi got out of the infirmary and called out to him.

“Hey, where are you going?”

“I don’t even know… just… somewhere where I can find and answer how to be someone else other than my brothers without it resulting like this…”

He waved with his hands and seemed somewhat avoiding his face… it was unsure what he was thinking or planning… many still had much distrust of him… he likely would have a hard time from then on in this dorm yet… at least he did realize his faults.

Rouge came out of your back sighing. 

“You still got that stone, Las? “

You looked down at the overblot stone in your hand… compared to the other three it was pitch black… much more darker… Rouge sighed.

“I know it's terrible but these stones seem important.. don’t let them out of your sight… let's head back to the new member… shall we.”

As Rouge swayed you took one last look in the infirmary… Gabrielle looked empty at something on the table… a purple gift box with a name on it… Dragiselle.

Daire by @terrovaniadorm​  

[zorkaya-moved]

"...... you must have had a dream of my memories." the lancer murmurs, matter of fact; vainly trying to gauge her reaction as eons old of guilt clouds his golden gaze. diarmuid had momentarily forgotten that it would eventually occur due to their bond as master & servant, but the remembrance washes over him like cold water as he wakes up, sensing his lady was also roused from slumber. sadly, there was nothing he could do to prevent such a thing, only apologize for the annoyance it must have caused. would that change her opinion of him...? he honestly did not want to find out.

".... if you intend to stay up, my lady, I could go make you some tea, if you'd like." the former knight of fianna continues smoothly despite his slight unease of the past; politely bowed in front of her form. it had been awhile since he had witnessed the events that ultimately lead to his death & it still felt fresh every time.

@loyaltyloved

It's hilarious how sadistic and ironic fate could be to those who are summoned to this time, to this place, to this war, to each Master. Why did Diarmuid answer to her call? The prideful and noble knight who has fallen victim to a smitten girl who sought out a way out of a failing marriage. Medieval times are too different compared to her days where she will cut down any man who tries to wish for her hand in marriage without proving themselves worthy. She is of ancient line, of power and of pride. But not the noble pride Diarmuid proves himself to be. Why did he answer to her call when she summoned him? Perhaps, her wish to save her family and herself from the familial curse makes for a valid way to have a HERO be on her side.

It surprises her how he looks away from her. (How dare he.) If he acts like an ashamed dog before his own past, then he doesn't show her the pride she wants in him. They are equals. If he considers what happened in his past to be shameful, he must think of her as the most tainted woman ever yet he still acts like such a good knight. There's no need for him to act like this. It's just a couple of memories from his past where everything already happened. It happened. That's it. He shouldn't think that it will alternate her opinion on him, ever. She's smarter than that.

"Lancer," her commanding tone comes out as sharp as a frigid knife. Only when he looks up does she continues, not looking away. Her eyes of gold are not like his: they have no hesitation, to guilt, no shame, but also no kindness and no warmth. She is a woman made of glaciers and moon's light, polar nights are her reign and she'll make ice her one and only domain. Death bows before her and wishes to marry her every night. "Do not have your metaphorical tail hide between your legs. Look at me with pride and nobility you've always had. The past is in the past. What happened in your life will not change my opinion about working with you or seeing you as you are right now."

He offers tea and she will have some, certainly, but he must hear her words loud and clear.

"I see no issues with your past nor how your life came to an end. Love, jealousy, possessiveness, selfishness, nobility, determination, and a wish." Zarina places her hands on her hips, her white nightgown and bare feet with a thin white robe almost illuminate in the light of the moon that falls into it through open blinds. Her slumber's interrupted, but not because of Lancer's memories. Simply because she decided to get herself a drink of water. "Right now, there are no lords and it's no longer medieval times. You are my partner, not my slave or my knight. What irritates me is that you did not have enough confidence in me to not change my mind about you."

It's a work in progress, of course. Then again, now he sees more of her. This steel heart, this unwavering gaze, this strength of a woman.

"My partner must be proud of who he is, looking forward with determination and trust towards victory. If your loyalty remains the same, so will mine," in this war - they work together. It's not a solo mission and it's not her using him as a weapon. Doing so will defeat the purpose of this war, of this battle, of his summon. "Is that clear? Now look at me straight and say your answer. Was my answer to your worries heard or must I explain more?"

Then, they can have tea.