#hopefully someone reads this and enjoys this

[thegoddessprose]

I barely see any of these, but I like this kind of challenge. I'll be answering all of these as Chiasa.

🌧️: I usually use an umbrella on rainy days because believe me, as functional as is, it's very hard to find a stylish hooded raincoat that doesn't make my hair all static-y... But there's plenty of nice umbrellas. I like the rain (better from the inside!) I love the noise the raindrops make, the way it smells afterwards... Really an example of the beauty and power of nature.

🍳: I like to think that I am, I haven't had any complaints since I was still learning. I guess I'm alright, but I'm no chef, or my father. I enjoy it when I have time, it keeps me close with my family and is all around calming. And my favorite... Oh! Kare for sure. Out of everything I make, everyone thinks I'm the best with that.

🧼: Showers are for the morning (The ones alone at least, hehe...) and baths are for the evening. I love baths! Not only are they a vital part of my skincare, but also one of my favorite ways to wind down after a hard day. As for my favorite scent... I like anything earthy or floral, but I really like eucalyptus and jasmine.

❌: My sister Quinta loved to tell me to stop "galavanting with young lovers, dressing like a sorority girl (Wouldn't you believe she wore even less on the pageant circuit...)" really, just living my life. If my skincare and procedures did their job, then why should I hide myself away and quilt and "bingo" or whatever "old biddies" are supposed to do? Hell, I recall she had the same stuff done, even just so we stay looking alike. Since she's more concerned about appearances than my own well being... I'd listen to my own parents over her if they were still here. I'd listen to my brother in law, friends, Plutarch too, but none of that means I'm bowing completely.

🏳️: When there's absolutely no other way or someone would get hurt. I didn't get this far in the fashion world, no, in life, just to give up at the slightest problem.

📖: I guess I'm a little cliche for this, but I really like romance novels... Especially the trashy ones. Plutarch's been trying to get me into the philosophy and government stuff he likes, but they're much more fun to read with him than alone. He makes them very easy to understand and he's so cute when he's all passionate like that. Sadly, I don't have a lot of time to read... Even now I'm awfully busy.

⛸️: Mm, I'm not a big sports girl. I used to do some roller skating when I was younger, but that was only a phase. Unfortunately most of the "sporting events" I've been around for were rather... Barbaric. Hopefully there'll be something a lot less violent on in the near future.

😷: I don't get sick very often, I actually do my best to stay healthy. When I do, I try to stay home so I don't pass it on, no one wants that after all! If I must go out, I'll wear a mask, and I might if I hear about something going around. I've got a few cute ones on standby, so I don't mind at all.

🥼: Ugh, thankfully no. I haven't worn a uniform since that hideous thing I had to wear at the Academy, and believe me, the minute I graduated, I cut it up for scraps. I doubt I'll be wearing one now, but if I had to go back in time and change it, I'd keep the pants and skirt separate, change that awful blue mandarin to a white button down, and add a gold tie or scarf. That would at least fix the damn thing.

🥂: I like to be surrounded by my loved ones, maybe pop a bottle or two, enjoy some good food, music, and dancing. I've been raised to believe that life isn't worth living without any joy, and what's better than everything that makes me happy close after a great thing?

🛴: I have a car (A gorgeous pink roadster with fins!) to get to further parts of the city in less official capacity, but otherwise Plutarch and I also have drivers. I like to say I do my best, but urban drivers are the worst!

🕰️: I check my handheld most of the time, but sometimes I also have a fashionable watch on my wrist.

🥰: I'd have to say the biggest thing is acknowledgement, actually listening to what I have to say and taking an interest. I'm used to people marvelling at the surface, but it can get old, especially when those people's intentions aren't always the greatest. Actually listening to me, though? That's rare and I just adore it.

🐇: I guess I used to, but just between us, I wasn't exactly sober for most of that time... Plus even a lot of my spiritual side withered away with the world.

🎺: I really like psychedelic rock and synth wave. A bit of indie too. I don't play any instruments, I think I might be tone deaf I'm afraid. One of my exes let me try his saxophone once... It didn't end too well. Thankfully, that's not why we broke up.

💿: Oils, I guess? I don't really collect anything like that, but I do collect certain oils, some to burn as incense, some to use on my skin and in baths, some just to sniff.

🧋: I like a nice pink lady. If you mean non alcohol, I like both coffee and tea. The coffee I'll take both ways, but I like my tea hot. I like a nice chamomile and I take my coffee with cream and one spoonful of sugar.

🌻 random in-character questions

an ask game where, instead of replying from your perspective, you answer as if it's your original character/muse/self-insert/etc. answering the question ✨

🌧️ "When outside during the rain, do you use a raincoat, an umbrella, or something else? Do you enjoy rain?"

🍳 "Are you a good cook? Do you enjoy cooking? What's your favorite thing to cook?"

🧼 "Do you prefer to take a shower during the morning or evening? Do you like taking baths? What's your favorite scent of shower gel?"

❌ "Would you do something that someone told you not to do? Why? Is there someone you'd actually listen to more than everyone else?"

🏳️ "What will make you give up?"

📖 "What kinds of books do you read? Do you have a lot of time to read?"

⛸️ "What's your favorite kind of sport? Do you follow sports closely or don't care at all?"

😷 "How often do you get sick? Do you stay at home when sick or do you end up going outside to, say, get some groceries? If you go outside, would you wear a mask?"

🥼 "Do you have to wear a uniform somewhere? If yes, how do you feel about it? If no, what kind of uniform would you love to wear?"

🥂 "How do you celebrate you accomplishments?"

🛴 "What's your preferred way of getting somewhere - own car, public transport, a bicycle, or something else? How well do you follow the traffic rules?"

🕰️ "What do you use to check what time it is?"

🥰 "What would make you feel happy and loved?"

🐇 "Do you believe in other dimensions?"

🎺 "What kind of music do you mostly listen to? Do you know how to play an instrument, and if not, which one would you want to learn to play?"

💽 "Do you collect anything? Why?"

🧋 "What's your go-to thing to drink? Do you prefer cold or hot drinks?"

[life-is-more-than-just-a-game]

Can you make a jealous chishiya? Where chishiya tells the reader to thet information about arisu but the reader and arisu gets along prety well and chishiya gets jealous? Thank you.

♠️ Chishiya being jealous about you and Arisu getting along pretty well ♠️

A/N: Hey, sorry for letting you wait so long. Maybe you have already forget that you wrote me this request but I like the idea behind it, so I decided to make this my "comeback". 👀

I'm actually not sure if I understood it the correct way, but I definitely understood you want a Chishiya who is jealous about the fact Arisu and you are get along splendidly. 😋

Hopefully it reaches you and I also hope you will enjoy reading this. ♥️

Characters: Chishiya

POV: gn!reader

Warnings: Not given.

C h i s h i y a

I don't see him being a jealous person actually.

Unless you give him a reason to ...

Chishiya isn't even a person who falls in love easily.

But when he is falling for someone, he falls pretty hard.

So, you have to deal with his feelings and his behavior when he sees you together with Arisu, chatting and laughing together as if there would be no tomorrow.

Okay, to be fair, nobody knows if there would be a "Tomorrow" ... but that's something different!

Arisu may be a great help to him when it comes to collecting all the cards, but sometimes Chishiya thinks Arisu is his downfall.

Especially when it comes to you.

Yeah, but don't think he will talk about it- he is more concerned with hiding his feelings from you than actually speaking about them.

Even if you already have realized something isn't okay with him, he wouldn't admit it.

"I'm used to it that you are not talking much when there is nothing important to discuss about." "I can hear your "but" even though you didn't said it yet." "Then guess what I wanted to say next." "I don't have any problems, I feel fine, no worries."

Nobody said it would be easy with him. He can be as cold as he looks and it's hard seeing through him, even for you.

Still, he can be a calm and cool person as much as he wants- but he's just a human being. You can endure a lot, but at some point everyone reaches their limits.

You and Arisu are talking a lot? Fine.

Arisu makes a joke you find funny, so he watches both of you laughing and having fun with each other? Alright, you aren't his trophy, everyone can have other friends next to his own partner.

But seeing both of you hugging after a game ...

Because you saw someone die in front of your eyes and you are now overwhelmed by many different emotions ...

Well, enough is enough.

"Step aside, Arisu, that's not your part, alright?"

He was waiting for you the entire time you were in the building, so it's not hard for him to find you both outside being ... needy.

"In the future, you'd better keep your hands to yourself." "Excuse me what was that?" "You already understand."

While Chishiya switches positions with Arisu and holds you captive in his arms, he just gives the dark-haired man a warning look.

… Even if unintentionally.

… And unconsciously.

"Well ... I better go then and ... leave both of you alone ... for now." Arisu lets off of you, leaving you to the person who means the most to you. "You better do."

Trying to catch your breath and calm down, you look up to Chishiya and Arisu alternately, feeling the tension between them.

Still, you can't help but start giggling a little.

Arisu und Chishiya both start looking at you now, irritated and confused.

"W-Well, wait ... just to make it clear- is there someone ... really ... jealousy?" "Yes, he is." "No, I'm not", he says calmly. "Okay, then ... let me hug Arisu again ... s-shouldn't be a problem when everything is okay. Right?"

Silence.

You smiling up to Chishiya, who is now biting his tongue and pressing his lips together, not even thinking about letting off of you.

Arisu watching in amusement.

"I'm ... just not fine seeing another one be there for you while I can be there for you. It's my job to cheer you up- even though I'm not the best in it, but I'm trying very hard." "You ARE jealousy, Chi!" "Oi, stop saying this, will you ... ?"

[shiningjustforreid]

aura

where Spencer Reid meets someone who shares his pain - if only for a bit.

warnings/tags: 18+ (implied intimacy), migraine-era spencer reid, reader has migraines, reader is called ‘girl’ once, heavy themes at the end, spencer rambles about stars, hospitals, spencer calls reader ‘angel’, no use of y/n

word count: 1774

a/n: hi! this is my very first published fic (even though i’ve read for years!) and it’s nothing major, but i thought it would be fun to finally write! i hope you enjoy <3

- ✩ -

Hospitals may be one of his least favorite places.

“Did you know that actually on any given day 1 in 31 people in a hospital have a hospital induced infection? these include things like a surgical site infection, MRSA,”

Cue the smell of the antiseptic, drowning out the smell of people dying. It’s too clean.

Makes him on edge. But then again, most things do. When people give him that look that clearly says ‘shut up.’ He seems to pull in darkness, trouble, and maybe it’s because he creates it for himself.

Currently, he’s sat, in one of those uncomfortable hospital benches, foot tapping anxiously, sunglasses on, because everything hurts. Notably, his head and eyes.

The lights. The lights build a nausea in him that’s like a tidal wave, build an agony behind his eyes that threatens to reduce his thought process to ash. He still squints, behind the black plastic; it’s not enough, not enough to quell the pain entirely.

“No, I’m, about to go in, actually.”

Is what he should’ve said. But Spencer Reid, a forward man, an eloquent man, is not.

“Can I sit here?”

Quiet, but polite. He makes the mistake of looking up. Your hair is messy, probably from the wind outside, and tucked away from your face. The coat you have on is a deep admiral blue, and it just makes the lack of color in your face all the more apparent. A green bag, slung on your shoulder, as you fiddle with the zipper. Chapped lips form into a halfway smile, and, most noteworthy of all, you have black, plastic glasses on.

“I have an appointment, it’s probably, it’s right after yours, but if I can’t sit here, it’s okay, I-“

You’re backtracking, which means you’re nervous, probably because he’s just been looking at you with an impassive expression, even more unreadable due to the glasses. He clears his throat, and opens his mouth.

“No, um, actually I’m waiting. Hopefully not much longer though.”

God help him, because there’s a shared struggle here, between the two of you. He sees it, in your tense shoulders, the way you sit down slowly, as to not generate any more pain than necessary, the way your hands tremble like leaves in the wind when you adjust your glasses after slowly turning to him. Your halfway smile stays put, though, even through the slow movements.

You move like that, because every movement seems to intensify the burning hot behind your skull.

He knows. He doesn’t know you. Not at all.

But he knows your pain. And maybe that’s enough.

You don’t nod, because it’s unnecessary movement.

“Yeah, I finally gave in and booked an appointment. I’ve had to call out of work for them at least 3 times in the last two weeks.”

Them. The migraines. You don’t need to name them, you both just know. You’re clearly both there for a reason.

“I’m uh, Spencer, by the way. I’ve had mine for a bit now too.”

You tell him your name, and the sound makes a welcome warmth flood through his chest. A star, tiny, but burning, is born. Gravity in his chest, tugging you in, as your heat floods his heart.

Bad idea, bad idea - the alarm bells are clanging. He doesn’t know how sick he is, and he really doesn’t know how sick you are. This could spell disaster, and yet-

He’s intrigued. You radiate this nervousness, a distinct desire to be understood, seen, known. He knows that desire. He has that desire. He wants to know you.

“I think mine might just be due to stress, but, I don’t know. It’s the easiest explanation to deal with.”

For your sake, he hopes that’s all they are. Stress.

And, you’re still sitting there, head bowed, when the nurse comes out and asks questions.

She asks about hallucinations. As if this hell is all in his head. You sit there, silent, biting your lip, worrying the cracked skin in your teeth, your hands picking at the fraying edge of your coat.

When he comes back out, somehow even more tired, even though all he did was lie there and answer some questions, he speaks your name, softly.

As if he has the right to.

You jump a little, look up, and remove your glasses. He stares, he can’t help it. Visible, is the pain, the way your ocular muscles are tense, your skin without color, but you smile, still.

He makes you smile.

“Everything okay?”

Spencer nods hurriedly.

“Fine, for now, I have to get to work. You uh-you’re next?”

“Mhm. Will I—is there any chance I’ll see you again, Spencer?”

You don’t know him. You know him, you must.

“Uh, I mean, I—you want to see me again?”

When will he learn to speak when it actually matters?

“Only if you want to, I-I know I would like to see you again.”

He leaves the hospital, that damn hospital, with a small slip of paper, with ten numbers scrawled in purple ink, and your name below it, a tiny smiley face beside it.

When he gets home from his next case, he fishes that paper out of his messenger bag and types each digit into his cell phone with shaky hands.

Is he tempting fate? Perhaps. But fate answers, your soft voice coming through the phone.

Soon, he finds himself at a café with you, sipping his saccharine sweet coffee and telling you about his job, or some book he just finished, in detail that you don’t seem to protest against. It’s refreshing, really - just to be listened to. To be heard. When you leave, you give him a barely-there kiss on the cheek, a soft goodbye. The star burns brighter.

“I had my follow up appointment.”

He tells you, on the third date, as you two sip coffee once more - are these dates? Would Morgan be impressed? - trying to keep the conversation casual, yet relevant. Your eyes widen with interest.

“And? Did they give you answers?”

He makes a face, shaking his head.

“No. Well, yes, but they told me it’s psychosomatic.”

All in his head.

Your face falls, and you look truly sympathetic.

“I’m sorry, Spencer. I knew how much you didn’t think that to be the case.”

He takes comfort, then, in the way you hug him goodbye, your cheek pressed against the cotton of his cardigan, eyes shut against the light. He tenses, only for a second, before his arms curl around you, resting against your coat.

“We should do dinner.”

He mumbles into your hair, before he can stop himself.

A real date.

And you do. You have dinner, and he makes you laugh, even though it’s quiet, like a bell ringing at Christmas, tiny, joy-filled, and the star in his chest just glows. Your face is tense, though, and he can’t figure out why. You won’t say. either. You never do. You keep your responses composed, and careful, calculated. Like you’re afraid. He wonders why, but won’t press it. You are made of nervous energy. He knows this now.

A few months, of appointments for both of you and cases for him where he aches for your hand in his and coffee and dinner and museum dates, and one ice skating excursion he will not mention, and then—

He makes another mistake then, when he asks you to come over, after a case.

“Just for coffee, or to talk, not to-you know, unless that’s what you want, I—“

Yet, that’s how he ends up with you in his bed, in his lap, your warm hands sliding over his skin like you’re in awe, your wide eyes meeting his own, because he dimmed the lights, and thank God neither of you are hurting right now.

He takes you apart, piece by piece, with his mouth on your collarbone and fingers across your ribs, learning, seeking to know. Because that’s what he wants, to know you, fully, in every way he can, until there’s nothing left for him to study.

After he watches you tremble under him, with his name on your lips, he realizes he’ll never be able to memorize all of you. You’re too extensive, with the blush on your cheeks and the way you cling to him and the way your eyes sparkle for a moment, just a moment, before they dim again.

You’re tucked into him, under his chin, as he traces shapes mindlessly into your back with his fingertips. He feels that star, burning bright in your arms, for millennia to come.

“I love you.”

You smile against his chest, before you speak again, choked up.

“You shouldn’t.”

“Whyever not, angel girl?”

Because you are like an angel, come down from the heavens, his angel, gracing his life during some of the most incredible pain he’s ever felt.

“They told me I’m dying. They found the source of it all.”

And the star fizzles, and sparks, and slowly, a cold ice begins to dwell where the star was. Months fly by, and yet drag, each day feeling long but the weeks short.

He finds himself in the hospital - miraculously, his migraines have given him respite today - your hand in his, his eyes on you. You don’t say much, you never did, but now, he feels like you don’t ever speak at all.

Until you do.

“Spence?”

The light in his chest flickers, illuminating his darkness.

“Yes, angel?”

“Can you talk? About anything? I just wanna hear you.”

He nods, and his voice gets quiet, almost breathless, the longer he speaks.

“Did you know that stars actually are simultaneously pulling apart and being pushed together? The heat from inside the star creates a pressure that causes the atoms to separate, but the gravity attraction forces them back together, as it burns. The bigger a star is though, the less time it takes to go through that fuel.”

He stops, looking down at you. He wonders if you’re listening.

“But when the heat is gone, when it stops burning, there’s nothing to counteract the gravitational pull, and—“

And it collapses in on itself.

“And it just sort of sucks everything else in without its heat, the light, if it’s large enough. Pulling everything in, everyone in-“

He’s said too much. You open your eyes, your voice barely a whisper.

“I don’t want you to do that. You won’t, Spencer, I swear.”

In a rare moment of strength, you tug yourself up, to hold his face in one hand.

“You burned before me. You’ll burn again.”

He nods, desperately trying not to weep.

But I won’t burn like I did with you.

“The brightest stars burn the fastest, so we must love them while we can.”

- Anna Todd

[bunnywonyo]

HEAR ME OUT ‼️‼️‼️ BUT WHAT IF.. SNOW WHITE & THE SEVEN DWARFS EXCEPT IT'S A HAREM TYPE SITUATION (READER BEING SNOW WHITE)???? LIKE.. PUT THE MOMMIEST KPOP IDOLS THERE WE GONNA SEE KARINA, WONY, SANA, ETC. ?????? IT'S SEEMS PRETTY BIG FOR A SINGLE FIC BUT IDKKK

SNOW WHITE AND HER SEVEN EIGHT MOMMIES??

g!p karina, g!p wonyoung, g!p sana, g!p sakura, g!p rosé, g!p minnie, g!p yeji x innocent snow white! reader x secret bonus g!p celebrity (what a mouthful)

synopsis: after running away from the evil queen for something you overheard, you found shelter in a house shared with not one, not two, but seven attractive women who all happen to have the hots for you

word count: 10.2k

tags: smut, g!p, somnophilia, choking, spanking, double penetration, may get ooc sorry, lmk if i missed some

a/n: i'm terribly sorry if this took too long college bit my ass, but please do enjoy even if this is shitty

your legs have started hurting from all the running. how long have you been running? hours probably. far too long than what your weak legs could handle. but you had to keep running. you need to get as far away from the castle as possible. far from the evil queen. but did you run far enough? hopefully yes.

taking a break from all that running, you spot a house by a lake hidden behind the thick covers of the forest. it was your only chance of surviving this forest so you decided to try your luck and ask the house’s owner if you could stay there. 

knocking at the door, you waited for any response. receiving none, you noticed that the door was slightly open. after some internal dilemma, you decide to just enter hoping the owner was nice enough to forgive you for trespassing into their property.

the first thing you noticed when you set foot inside was how dirty and disorganized everything was. the sink was filled with unwashed dishes, there were food crumbs everywhere, the dining room table had chairs all over the place, and clothes littered the couch. you shuddered in disgust before a bright idea concocted in your brain. you were gonna clean this whole house to show the owner of this house that you would be a helpful addition. you grabbed a broom and dustpan that were leaning by the front door and started cleaning

after hours of cleaning, you found out that seven people lived here based from the disorganized items in this house mostly being seven. seven pairs of fork and spoon, seven plates, seven disorganized chairs. while cleaning the second floor of the house, you also found seven bedrooms, each with signs on the door that showed the owners’ name. wonyoung, karina, sana, sakura, rosé, minnie and yeji they read. 

suddenly feeling drowsy, you headed downstairs, deciding to sleep on the couch. (you’ve already trespassed, you wouldn't want to worsen your possible friendship with the owners now won’t you?) laying down, you felt your eyes getting heavy, so you let go all the tension in your body and started to drift off to dreamland.

after what seemed like hours, you could hear whispers. naturally, this woke you up. stirring, you slowly opened your eyes, blinking away the remnants of sleep. as your vision cleared, you realized you were not alone. seven pairs of eyes were fixed on you, each pair belonging to a remarkably beautiful girl. they stared at you, a mixture of surprise, curiosity, and something else in their expressions. you quickly sat up, feeling your cheeks flush under their collective gaze.

"i'm so sorry for intruding," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "i was running away and found your house. i didn't mean to trespass, i just... i needed a place to stay."

the girls exchanged glances before a tall girl with a mole above right cheek stepped forward. "you cleaned our house?" she asked, her voice soft but firm. there was something familiar about her, like she reminded you of someone

you nodded, feeling a bit self-conscious. "yes, i thought it might help. i wanted to show you that i could be useful if you let me stay."

another girl stepped closer, her eyes twinkling with amusement and somehow, mischief? "well, you did a pretty good job," she said, looking around the now spotless living room. "it hasn't looked this good in ages."

another tall girl crossed her arms, you noticed a mole below her lips, a smile tugging at her lips. "why were you running?" she asked, her eyes searching yours.

you took a deep breath, gathering your thoughts. "i was escaping from the evil queen," you explained. “yesterday, while i was cleaning the castle courtyard, i heard her tell her adviser, “i want that y/n girl in my special room by tonight.” the girls gasp, but sensing that there was more to the story, they let you continue.

“i was really suspicious so i followed the queen around. then before she entered her quarters, i heard her mutter under her breathe, “finally, after all these years i can finally take her” when i heard that, i panicked and ran away from the castle until i ended up here” you continued, “i didn’t know what she was gonna do to me, if only i knew i would’ve never worked there” you innocently finished.

when you finished your story, something shifted with the girls. their expressions, already intrigued, took on a darker edge, a subtle heat in their eyes. they exchanged another series of glances, this time laden with a silence. you didn’t notice, too naive and too caught up in your own story, but their gazes lingered on you a little longer, their thoughts clearly taking a different, more intimate darker direction.

a blonde girl stepped forward, placing a gentle hand on your shoulder, her touch lingering just a bit too long. “you’re safe here,” she said, her voice soothing but with an undercurrent you couldn’t quite place. “you can stay with us as long as you need.”

relief washed over you, and you smiled gratefully at them. “thank you, thank you so much.”

still not letting go of your shoulders, she squeezed them gently before letting her hand fall away. "why don't we sit down and get to know each other a bit more?" she suggested, gesturing toward a cozy seating area nearby.

as you all settled into the plush chairs, the atmosphere became more relaxed, the tension from earlier dissipating into the background. you and the girls conversed with each other and that’s when you learned who the names you read upstairs belonged to. they discussed where you would sleep and what tasks you were assigned to do. after a while, it was finally decided that you are going to sleep in the attic and cleaning the house was your job. soon, night arrived and after eating the dishes sakura cooked(10/10 would eat again) and tidying up the kitchen, you all went to bed. you sighed in content as your body relaxed against the soft cover of the bed. you were really happy, not only did you escape from the clutches of the evil queen, you also gained seven attractive friends! (very attractive if i say so myself). as you pondered with your thoughts, you could slowly feel your eyes getting heavy. you yawned and let your mind wander into dreamland. 

minutes passed by and you were already in deep sleep. so deep that you never hear the door to your room open as a figure enters. 

you were awakened minutes later by the sensation of something entering inside you and a body on top of yours thrusting. you tried screaming for help but the person saw this and covered your mouth. tears welled up in your eyes as the pain spread all over your body. your tried to fight back but they were so strong that your futile attempts only made the already creaking bed creak harder. 

“shh y/n” you recognized that voice, “you wouldn’t want the others to see how much of a slut you are now won’t you?”

you looked up to your perpetrator and what you saw drained the life out of your face. the person forcing themselves onto you was none other than sana!

sana noticed the shock in your face before she giggled and leaned closer into you. 

“surprised? sorry honey i couldn’t help myself.” she whispered “but i’m serious, you better shut that pretty mouth of yours before you wake everyone up” you replied but since sana’s hand was covering your mouth, it came out muffled. removing her hand from your mouth, you spat “why? are you afraid cuz you know that the moment they wake them up and see this they’ll do something to you?” while glaring at her.

this ticked sana off before she dropped a truth bomb to you “afraid? oh honey, the one who should be afraid is you” she grinned. “the moment the other girls wake up, they won’t be able to control themselves. the truth is, the moment we saw you, we all wanted you. i just happen to fuck you first. i just want to savor you first.”

panting, you retort “you’re lying! you’re only saying that to trick me! you’re nothing but –ah!” sana’s harsh thrust cuts you off. “shh shh shh, less talking, more moaning.” you shook your in response and bit your lip. 

“don’t hide your moans, i know you want this too” you denied this by shaking you head. this response caused sana to tighten her grip on you waist and thrust even harder. 

one of her hands snaked in between your thighs, her fingers trying to find your sensitive bundle of nerves. when she found them, she abused the hell out of them. this action caused you to roll your eyes in pleasure and let out a loud moan. sana smirked at your response, rubbing harder.

“lying little slut acting like you don’t want this but here you are moaning like a whore”

you couldn’t handle it any longer, tired and weary, you finally stopped resisting and fully submitting to sana. your whines and moans soon filled the room. sana delighted with your submission and you with your head way up in cloud nine, both failed to notice the two pair of eyes by your door, watching your every move. 

“ahh mommy! s-something’s happening” you cried out, “my tummy feels weird”

sana smirked at the nickname before giggling “sweetheart that’s called cumming. that’ll make you feel really good” she then groaned “i feel like im gonna cum soon too”

“im gonna cum inside you ok? gonna feel your insides with my seed, gonna paint you insides white”

“y-yes please ahhh f-feel so good mommy” “fuck here it comes baby” her hips thrust for one final time. this being her deepest thrust inside you, all in effort for her cum to fully reach deep inside you. the feeling of her cum inside you caused you to also go over the edge.

legs shaking, sana pulls out her cock from inside you. she sees your juices mixed and flowing out of your pussy. sana groans at the sight before plopping on beside you, one arm slung around your waist.

“that felt good baby?”

as much as you wanted to lie, you couldn’t. even if sana forced herself onto you, you can’t deny that what she did somehow removed stress out of you.

too shy to admit it, you muzzled your face onto her neck and nodded. sana ruffled your hair before yawning. both of you shuffled on bed to get comfortable, ready to sleep the night away. well that was the original plan before someone spoke.

“that was it?” a voice asked, breaking the silence in the room. this caused you and sana to sit up from the surprise. “that was kinda boring right minnie?”

“really short if you ask me, and really sana? one round and you’re done? i’m so glad rosie brought me here” minnie tsked causing sana to blush.

“why don’t minnie and i teach you how to properly feel good, what'd you say y/n?”

although tired and dazed, you were curious. ‘what exactly did they mean by properly?’ you thought. apparently, your curiosity was written all over your face because the two started snickering. they both went on each of your side, stripping off their clothes on their way, their hot breaths lingering in your ears.

rosé turned to sana, “why don’t you be a dear and sit by that chair? you’re free to watch or go back to your room.” she spoke. sana grumbled before picking up her discarded clothes and heading to the chair, one hand wrapped on her dick.

“ew you’re gonna jerk off watching us?” minnie bemused. “what? i bet you were doing that a while ago too!” sana spat back. rosé rolled her eyes, pushing you to lean against minnie before also leaning closer. you blush at being sandwiched by two attractive women.

rosé grabbed your chin, your lips meeting hers. you moaned at the feeling of her soft lips against yours, which she immediately took advantage of. darting her tongue inside your mouth. minnie on the other hand, busied herself with your breasts and your neck. fumbling your mounds like there’s no tomorrow while sucking and nipping on your neck. eventually, they got tired of all the foreplay. even sana was getting bored, evident in her groans in the background.

the three of you changed your position resulting to you straddling rosé while minnie was behind you. you gasped at the the feeling of their dicks rubbing against your nether regions. 

“i–i’ve never tried taking two at once before….” you whined hiding your face on rosé’s neck

“don’t worry baby, rosie and i promise to be gentle” to which rosé nodded in agreement.

you took deep breathes before nodding in submission to them. seeing your response, their eyes twinkle before plunging their dicks inside you at the same time. your scream at the sensation while the two groaned at your tightness. it felt so painful, like your were being ripped in half. the pain was overwhelming but so was the lingering pleasure that was starting to build up. the girls started thrusting until they reached a pace they were comfortable with. 

soon, your pained gasps turned into pleasured moans. hearing this, the two started getting rough. they started thrusting harder while their hands lingered all over your body. rosé fondled with your breasts while minnie snaked one of her hands, searching for your sensitive bundle of nerves. once her hand reached its destination, she was merciless. she rubbed so hard you started twitching from the sensation.

“ahhh minnie feels so good~” you moaned, “rosie, minnie mommies –ahh– faster please” you pleaded.

“you like that y/nnie? you like taking dicks abusing your holes?” rosé asked, amused at how helpless you looked.

you aggressively nodded in response, yelping when she suddenly smacked one of your buttcheeks. “shit do that again please” you pleaded. 

rosé smirks at your reaction before sending a barrage of alternating smacks between your buttcheeks. two dicks inside you, minnie stimulating your clit and rosé smacking your ass caused your brain to be overwhelmed your back arching. the two groaned at the sight.

sana, who has been quietly jerking herself by the chair also groaned before standing up, walking towards you, hands still jerking herself. she positioned herself near your head before grabbing the base of her dick, aiming it to your mouth.

“open up” she grunted. although dazed from pleasure, you managed to process what she asked for. you opened your mouth, taking her member in. sana groaned before starting to thrust in your mouth. tears ran down your cheeks from all the pleasure you were receiving. 

this continued more until suddenly, you felt it again. the knot in your stomach was starting to form making you whine more on sana’s dick. the three noticed this, based on how they all suddenly started thrusting harder onto you.

“fuck–you’re cumming baby? could feel you getting tighter.” minnie grunted, her thrusts starting to reach an uneven pace. she was close too; you could feel it, and so were the other girls.

“shit baby im cumming, you’re gonna take it all right? gonna keep my seed deep inside you like a good girl.” rosé hissed before releasing her load this caused to be over the edge and cumming too. your holes tightened causing a domino effect of minnie and sana also cumming.

the four of you layed there for awhile before they all pulled away. sweat running down your faces as you tried to catch your breathe. after awhile, you suddenly spoke up.

“well now that that’s over, im gonna catch some sleep now. it’s up to you guys if u want to return to your rooms or if you want to sleep here with me. good night girls” you announced, ready to sleep for the nth time today.

“sleep? oh baby you think we’re done? we’re just getting started. you won’t be able to sleep a wink tonight” minnie interjected, hands already snaking all over your body. you shivered at the feeling before praying in your mind.

‘lord, have mercy on me tonight.’ you pleaded as the three starting shifting their positions.

the next day, you woke up feeling sore. specially in your nether regions and your mouth. you turn to your left to see the cause of your pain, all tucked together and sleeping like they never gave you those mind boggling orgasms. you rolled your eyes at the sight before grabbing your pillows and started hitting them.

“ow ow y/n? ow!!” yelped sana as she was surprised and confused with your actions while rosé and minnie grumbled, clearly annoyed with getting their sleep disturbed.

you payed no heed to their reactions, “you guys need to get out! i need to fix myself up” you continued hitting them.

though drowsy and annoyed, the three obliged. they, picked up their clothes and got dressed. as they started heading out, rosé turned to you, “you know y/n, kicking us out to get dressed is kinda useless now. cause we’ve already seen everything.” she laughed as she dodged the pillow you threw at her.

you grumbled in annoyance as you tried to stand up and fix the bed. keyword = tried. as soon as you stood up, pain struck your whole body causing you fall flat on the floor. it let out a thud loud enough to send someone running to knock on your door.

“y/nnie?” it was karina, “are you okay? i heard a thud.”

“im fine! i just fell!”

“are you sure? can i come in?”

“rina im butt naked right now.”

“o-oh… i can help you(?)”” “WHAT?!”

despite your protest, karina wanted to see your naked body help you. she took a deep breathe before barging in, one hand covering her eyes but she was obviously peeking.

“RINA!” you squealed before covering your body with a fallen blanket. 

for a while, karina just stood there, mesmerized with how innocent and helpless you look. countless thoughts entered her mind, all of them involving her having her way with you. this lead her to feel a sudden tightness in her lower region. your eyes then trailed to the tent on her crotch causing an idea to pop inside her head. a smirk spread on her face but was quickly replaced by a faux look of distress.

noticing her discomfort and getting concerned, you asked “are you okay rina?” to which she shook her head no.

“it hurts……down there…..” she started whining whilst gesturing to her nether region. “can you help me? please?”

this of course caught you off guard, blood rushing to your cheeks. although flustered with the situation, you wanted to help karina and hey you’ve already experienced pleasuring someone three times last night right? you could say that you were already experienced. ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

realizing that you have yet to respond to karina, you again tried to stand up this time succeeding (if standing on wobbly legs was successful at all).

“down there?” you repeated, your voice barely a whisper as you gestured towards karina’s crotch. your cheeks were on fire, and you felt your heart hammering in your chest. this was certainly not what you expected when you woke up this morning.

karina nodded, her eyes wide and filled with a mix of vulnerability and something else you couldn’t quite place. she looked at you with a pleading expression, and you knew you couldn’t just leave her in discomfort. despite your own flustered state, you wanted to help her.

gathering your courage, you reached out and clasped her hands. “alright, i’ll help you,” you said, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. you carefully guided her to the bed, feeling the tension between you both rise.

karina’s internal smirk was hidden behind her innocent facade, but you could sense a shift in her demeanor. she seemed more confident now, her eyes glinting with a spark of mischief.

as you both sat on the edge of the bed, you took a deep breath and leaned closer to her. “just… tell me if i’m doing things right” you murmured, your voice gentle.

karina’s breathe hitched as you positioned yourself between her legs, “i trust you, i know you’ll do great” she replied. 

you nodded back, feeling a rush of determination. you wanted to make her feel better, to ease her discomfort. slowly, you started by palming her erection through her shorts to which she shuddered. you then unzipped them and pulled them down along with her boxers. her cock sprang up, almost hitting your chin in the process. you heard karina let out a sigh of relief while you stared at her member.

it was noticeably throbbing, a sign of how much pain karina was suffering right now. poor baby, if only you knew.

not wanting karina to be in pain for any longer, you quickly went down in business. you wrapped your hands around the rigid member. karina’s eyes fluttered shut, and she bit her lip, trying to suppress the sounds of pleasure that threatened to escape. you leaned in, your lips brushing against her ear. “let me know if you need me to stop,” you whispered, your voice husky.

she shook her head slightly, her grip on your hands tightening. “don’t stop,” she breathed, her voice laced with need.

encouraged by her response, you continued your ministrations, your touch growing bolder. you could feel her body responding to your touch, her tension melting away. 

karina’s breaths were coming in short, sharp bursts now, and hips started thrusting against your hand. you could see the desire in her eyes, and it fueled your own passion.

“y/n baby……….. your mouth” she gasped “i need it” 

although you were caught off guard by her request, you still complied. you opened your mouth to accommodate to her plea. 

karina whimpered as the warm, wet mouth enveloped her throbbing member. it felt so good to have this intimate part of her worshiped in such a lewd manner. the stimulation was overwhelming, and she arched her back in delight. head nearly falling to hit the bed, her upper torso barely being supported by her forearms and elbows against the bed.

she groaned, one of her hands moving to get tangled in your messy hair as they bobbed up and down on her member. the suction increased, and she gasped for breath. the pleasure was intense, making her feel like she was floating on a cloud.

"y/n" she moaned, her voice thick with desire. she felt like she was on the verge of exploding, and she couldn't help but beg for more. "harder, baby," she pleaded. "more." her hips starting to thrust inside your mouth

hearing this, you started sucking harder. you found your hands playing with karina’s balls causing her to cry out in pleasure, her body shuddering as she felt intense waves of pleasure wash over her.

she screamed out in ecstasy, her body shaking with the feeling of her nearing climax.

"i'm gonna cum," she warned, her voice ragged. "don't stop, baby."

you didn't miss a beat, and moments later, karina exploded in a symphony of bliss. her muscles tensed, and her cries of pleasure filled the room. it was a moment of pure, unadulterated pleasure that she would never forget. it was better than those times when she relieved herself.

as the aftershocks of her orgasm faded away, karina collapsed onto the bed, panting heavily. while you, climb on top to lay beside her.

"that was amazing," she breathed, reaching down to stroke your hair. "thank you, baby." as she kissed your forehead.

karina then rolled over, pulling you on top of her. her fingers traced along your back, urging you closer as her lips met yours in a passionate kiss. although caught off guard, you matched her passion. but before you could further continue, a knock was heard on your door. groaning in annoyance you asked who it was. “WELL IF YOU DON’T WANT YOUR BREAKFAST TO GET COLD YOU BETTER GET YOUR ASS DOWN NOW!!” the person yelled back, revealing herself to be minnie.

the mention of breakfast made you realize how hungry you were and apparently you weren’t the only one, judging by how karina’s stomach grumbled. her ears reddened making you laugh at her. “say, let’s eat breakfast now what do you say?” you offered to which karina quickly agreed, nodding quickly you’d think her head will fall off.

you both got up, picked your discarded clothes and fixed yourself and your bed before heading downstairs for breakfast. reaching the kitchen, you saw that everyone was already there and are eating what seems to be sakura’s cooking. the smell caused karina’s already grumbling stomach to further grumble louder making everybody look at her. silence lingered in the room before a snort, then a giggle, then full on laughing was heard all over the room. “HAHAHAHAHA Y/N MUST’VE TIRED RINA OUT FOR HER TO BE THAT HUNGRY!” sana jokes amplifying the laughter. embarrassed, karina fought back “AT LEAST I COULD CONTROL MYSELF AND NOT WAKE THE WHOLE HOUSE UP IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT!”

this caused sana to gasp but before she could answer back, sakura cut them off “now now, breakfast’s gonna get cold, eat first then you settle things later when you do the laundry” to which they grumbled but still sat down making you also sit down.

“so y/n,” sakura began, “how did you sleep last night? good hopefully minus some nightly visitors.” eyeing three people making them look away.

you blushed at the reminder of last night before bashfully answering “it was nice, i slept great and i appreciated their company last night.” this made the three smirk and sakura to huff. 

you heard someone muttering but chose to ignore it, maybe it wasn’t important right? wonyoung then opened up a topic leading to a breakfast filled with chitchat. you guys divided up today’s task and as expected, yours were to wash the dishes and tidy up the house. you weren’t alone of course, sakura and yeji volunteered to help which you were grateful for. 

soon, everyone was finished with breakfast. prompting them to all stand up and for you to collect the plates and do the dishes while sakura and yeji disappeared in the house gathering the cleaning materials and the rest go out to either collect firewood, hunt for meat or forage carrying with them, the packed lunches that sakura prepared.

as you stood at the sink, warm water flowed over your hands as you scrubbed the final few dishes. the frequent sound of running water and the soft clinking of dishes runs through the silent room. your attention drifts a little, concentrating on finishing the rest of the task.

suddenly, you feel a set of arms gently wrap around your waist, drawing you back in an embracing hold. surprised, you turn to your side to find sakura leaning her head against your shoulder, her breath hot against your ear and her eyes filled with hunger. this made you feel hot on the inside.

“you think this is all just a game don’t you? getting fucked by nearly everyone in this household?” she spat in your ear as her hands found their way to your underwear, toying with your clit. “you’re already this wet? you are a slut aren’t ya.” making you whimper and to lean against her. 

“kkura-ah!” she clamped your mouth before you could catch any unwanted attention. 

“quiet,” she spat. “now bend over for me like the slut that you are.” her words making you feel even hotter. you wordlessy obliged sakura’s demand making her smirk.

as you bent over, her hands ran down your tank top covered back. it was as if her palms were trying to memorize the curves of your back. you felt her hands on the hem of your pajama pants 

as she starts to pull them down along with your panties. your slick making the panty stick to your nether region. sakura bit her lip at the sight before in to give it a long lick. you rolled your eyes at the sensation, even leaning back to be closer to her.

sakura chuckled at you reaction before she stood up and unbuckled her pants and pushing it down along with her boxers. you turned to look at her only to be faced with her throbbing member sitting between you buttcheeks. you blushed at the sight making her grin. leaning over to your ear, she began “im gonna fuck you on this sink until your breasts get imprinted here and everytime someone puts their dishes here, they get reminded of how good i fucked you here.” hands on your waist while humping against you.

then without any warning, she plunged herself inside you. you gasped at the intrusion, feeling how deep she was inside you. sakura grunted at how your walls tightened around her and how warm it was being inside you. she waited a few moments, letting you adjust around her size.

she soon started thrusting making your body press even further against the marbled sink. as moans, whines, gasps and a mix off all came out of your mouth, sakura thrusted harder. she then soon remembered that yeji was still inside the house.

“you’re moaning here like an attention seeking whore. you want yeji to hear you? i bet that riles you up, getting caught whoring aroung, being a whole household’s fuck toy” her taunting was proven when you tightened at her words making her smirk.

“ah— stop saying it like that” you tried to defend yourself.

“but isnt it true baby? i felt you tighten and all” sakura rebutted one hand leaving your waist to smack one of your cheeks, leaving a red hand print.

“it’s embarrassing—ah kkura!— when you say it out loud” you cried as your body responded to her stimulations. tears running down your eyes from the mixture of pleasure and pain as sakura maniacally laughs with bits of groans coming out at times.

this onslaught of moans continued on until you felt the familiar knot in your stomach starting to form. “kkura im close —ah!” you warned her turning to her sweat covered face. 

“hold it,” she grunted, “i know it feels good but i don’t give a fuck, i want you to hold it.” 

this made you whine, your body saying no but you knew better than to disobey sakura. 

“please kkura! i need it.” you pleaded but sakura’s face remained unchanged. the only thing that seemed to change was how her thrust became uneven, a sure sign that she was also near. 

but what you didn’t know was how great sakura was at holding her release. determined to prolonged your pleasurable suffering, she bit her lips as she held her release. minutes passed by and you felt like you could no longer hold yourself any futhwe.

“kkura,” you begged. “i can’t take it anymore, i wanna cum please please please please” sakura groaned, knowing that she also can’t hold it any longer. “just a little more love, i’m near” she thrusted a few more times before finally letting go, her hips shaking as she buried herself deeper inside you seemingly trying to prolong her pleasure. the moment you felt her warm fluid inside, you also let go. eyes rolling to the back of your head, your legs twitching and your mind going blank. sakura pressed her face against your neck, inhaling your post sex scent leaving a trail of soft kisses as she does so. 

a few moments passed and your rapidly beating hearts have finally calmed down. sakura pulls away from you, including her member, leaving you whining at the lost of contact. her eyes trailed down to your nether region, the sight of your mixed fluids making her eyes glimmer as she licked her lips. but it all crumbled down when she heard you groan in pain as you attempted to raise your upper body that lied against the marbled surface for so long. 

“oh dear did i overdo it? i have some pain relievers in my room, do you need some? what about water? are you feeling thirsty?” your eyes just started staring at her in shock  like a tarsier.

……‘is this really the same woman that made me submit and called me names.’ you asked yourself as you continued to stare only breaking your train of thoughts when you realized that sakura was starting to panic and ramble. you giggled at how cute she was in contrast to how dominant she was a few minutes ago. you pinched her cheeks to stop her from rambling which thankfully was really effective. sakura blushed at the gesture before you began, “im fine k kura, just tired” you reassured her. 

“but i think i need to rewash the dishes, sweat got all over them”

she rolls her eyes before joking, “don’t bother, some freaks in this household would want that” and then cackled

your eyes widened at her statement making you playfully shove her shoulder. “don’t say that, that’s so unsanitary!”

wiping her sweat, she picked both your clothes up, helping you get into them before also wearing her own clothes. her fingers brushed a strand of hair from your face as she leaned down, her soft voice filled with warmth.

“rest for a bit, alright? i’ll finish my task first’’ she said, her tone comforting. with one last glance over her shoulder, she walked away, her steps light but satisfied.

“oh by the way,” she paused, facing you “if you want more of me, just go to my room” she winked before finally leaving. you rolled her eyes at her statement before rerinsing the dishes. 

after finishing the dishes, you dried your hands and walked into the living room. yeji was sitting on the couch, her face flushed as she quickly grabbed a pillow and placed it over her lap.

“you’re done already?” she asked, her voice slightly shaky, avoiding your gaze as she fidgeted nervously.

you raised an eyebrow, noticing her unusual behavior. taking a step closer, you tilted your head in curiosity.

“what’s wrong?” you asked softly, your voice laced with concern.

yeji’s hands gripped the pillow tighter, her gaze darting away as her cheeks grew even redder. “n-nothing!” she blurted out, a nervous laugh escaping her lips.

you knelt slightly, trying to meet her eyes, your curiosity growing. “yeji, are you sure? you look… flustered.” you pressed gently, your tone teasing but kind.

her lips parted, but no words came out as she shifted awkwardly, clutching the pillow like her life depended on it. 

“come on, you can tell me yeji.” you urged. this made her let out a sigh of defeat, finally giving in.

“fine, it’s just that i uh-uhm…” she stammered, her voice starting to fade. “i watched you and sakura at the sink.”

it was now your turn to blush at what she said, “what?”

“yeah i uh-uhm got a situation down here……” she admitted. 

you gasped at what you heard, feeling guilty at the situation you’ve placed yeji into. you wanted to help and you were going to, with the ways you learned from this household.

“oh my gosh! im really sorry about that.” you apologized making yeji shake her head. “no no it’s fine y/n” 

“i can help you with your situation if you want” you offered. this perked her interest, countless thoughts running through her head and making herself smirk. “well…. if you want that” she accepted, ears reddening. you beamed at her before she took your hands pulling you upstairs to her room. 

when you both reached her room, she wasted no time pinning you against the door while locking it. her lips locked with yours rubbing her bulge against your core making you whine. her lips travelled from your jaw to your neck, trying to find your sweet spot. when she found it, she abused the hell out of it, your already loud whines were getting louder at this point.

while your mind while being turned into putty, yeji’s hands got busy too. they snaked around your body, slowly undressing you and herself. with all your clothes now pooling on your foot yeji pulled away, pushing you down on her bed. as you’re gasping for breathe, yeji sat between your thighs, hand placing one of your thighs on her shoulder. she then guided her member against your folds, spreading the wetness secreted by your greater vestibular gland. 

you whined at the teasing wanting nothing more but to feel her inside you. yeji on the other hand, wanted this as much as you but she wanted to take some necessary precautions to avoid hurting you. when she deemed you wet and lubricated enough, she pushed in. a satisfied groan soon ripped out of her throat, as you cry from her intrusion. yeji stays still for a while, letting you adjust to her size.

as soon as you seemed to adjust to her member, she began to thrust wildly making your eyes roll at the back of your head. in a moment, yeji’s room became filled with your pussy squelching accompanied by your whines and her groans.

“ah-ah-ah yeji!” you gasped out as you felt her member repeatedly hitting your cervix. yeji eyed the way your chest heaved up and down, how your breasts shook, a trail of drool running down to your jaw. she leaned in to lick it as one of her hands crept to wrap around your neck, giving it a light squeeze. your walls tightened as response to your body suddenly receiving a limited amount of oxygen arms thrashing against yeji’s back. 

yeji, feeling your reaction smirked as she further tighten her grip on your neck as black dots start to dance around your eyesight. 

“you look so beautiful like this, my hands around your neck”

just when you were about to pass out, yeji let go. you gasped for air as she continued to thrust roughly inside you. while you were catching your breathe, yeji leaned in to engage you in a lip locking session. moaning against the kiss, you wrapped your legs around her waist as you feel your climax approaching making her hiss at your tightness.

“fuck. are you getting close dear? you’re getting tighter all for me.” as she said those words, she began to feel her release too. determined to let you cum first, she held her release as her thrusts became became deeper and messy. your eyes well up from yeji’s change of pace as you reach your climax.

“ahhhh-im cumming!” you squealed wrapping your arms around yeji’s neck, pulling her to your chest, smothering her face in near your breast as you came. yeji groaned against your chest at how you tightened around her, finally letting go and filling you with her release. your bodies shuddered at the peak of your pleasure, your chests heaving up and down in an attempt to catch your breathe.

yeji stayed inside you for awhile, resting, before finally pulling out. you whined at the feeling of emptiness inside while yeji remained silent. you looked at her and her eyes was glued to your nether region. as she starred at how your mixed liquids flowed out of your folds, she let her intrusive thoughts win and she swiped her fingers to collect your fluid bumping against your clit making your body twitch as she licked it off her fingers.

“that was hot” you muttered, making you both look at each other before giggling together as if the two just didn’t have sex. 

“yeah it was” yeji agreed, closing in to cuddle you. minutes passed by as you both rested in her bed, nothing could be heard but your relaxed breathing as your eyes start to get heavy but a knock at the door interrupts the silence.

“yeji? y/n? i know the both of you are really tired but please do know that the others will be coming home soon and if you don’t want to be the subject to their teasings, you both better be by now” sakura advised. 

“yeah yeah we’ll be ready in a bit” yeji answered back, getting up and picking up your discarded clothes. your eyes followed her as she moved around the room picking up the clothes. as yeji finished, she sat back down at the bed handing you your clothes.

“you heard kkura, get dressed, when you’re done we’ll head downstairs” she said, getting up again to properly wear her clothes.you nod, thanking her as you also got up to wear your clothes. 

when you were both finished, you headed down to find sakura by the couch reading a book. she catches you guys in her peripheral vision, and she smiles closing her book. she patted the space beside her calling the two of you to sit close to her. you smile back pulling yeji with you as you jump to sit at the couch. the two giggle at your antics as yeji reaches over the coffee table to get some of the cookies that sakura seemingly baked. the three of you lounge and chat as you  wait for the others to arrive home. 

while the sun sets, you hear a bunch of familiar voices outside and the door opens with a bang.

“I’M HOMEEEEE!!!” sana yells and rosé hits her in the head to quiet her down. 

“shut your yap i’m already tired of hearing you all day” rosé complained rolling her eyes.

sana ignores her, eyes landing on you making her squeal.

“Y/NNIE I MISSED YOUUUU!” she exclaimed tackling you in a hug.

“hey sana…….” you greet hugging her back.

“how as your day? did kkura and yeji give you a hard time? did you have any fun? are you tired?” she interrogated.

“now now sana-chan, don’t overwhelm her so much” karina tried calming the squirrel down.

murmurs of agreement spread around the room making sana pout hugging you tighter. you all giggled at her adorable antics before sakura stood announcing that she’ll start making dinner.

“you guys should freshen up” she advised, pertaining to the group that stayed outside the whole day.

they all agreed with her, not forgetting to thank her for again cooking a meal for everyone. as sakura left to go to the kitchen, the rest proceeded to go to their rooms upstairs to freshen up, yeji towing behind saying she forgot something in her room. 

you were left there alone in the living room as you leaned back against the couch eyes glued to the ceiling as you let today’s events sink down. minutes pass by and you feel the couch dip beside you. you turned to your left to see wonyoung looking at you curiously.

“penny for you thoughts?” she asked.

“oh im just thinking of the things that happened today” you admit.

“how is it so far? have you been adjusting well?” she wondered.

“yeah, im loving it here.” you answered.

the two of you kept conversing as the rest of the girls joined after freshening up. time passed by and soon, sakura finished cooking, prompting you to stand up to help her set the table. one you were done, sakura called the rest over.  

wonyoung was the first to arrive, her bright energy filling the room as she eagerly claimed a seat. "it smells so good, sakura! what did you make?" she asked, her eyes sparkling with curiosity.  

"you’ll see," sakura replied with a small smile, bringing out the dishes.  

sana followed shortly after, laughing softly as she settled beside wonyoung. "it’s nice to just sit down together like this after such a long day," she said, stretching her arms.  

karina nodded, sliding into the seat across from them. "no kidding. carrying all that firewood back was no joke. my arms feel like they’re about to fall off."  

rosé joined next, brushing snow off her cloak as she sat down. "you think that’s bad? try foraging for berries in the freezing cold. my fingers are still numb," she said, holding her hands out toward the fire.

soyeon walked in with yeji close behind, both of them looking a little worn. "hunting today was rough," yeji said as she dropped into her seat, her tired expression softening as the aroma of the food reached her. "but at least we managed to bring something back."  

"yeah, but i think the deer were mocking us by how fast they ran," soyeon added with a small laugh.  

soon, the table was filled with laughter and conversation, everyone sharing stories about their tasks and the small triumphs of the day. sakura’s cooking didn’t last long as everyone happily dug in, the warmth of the meal matching the lively energy of the group.

after dinner, everyone helped clear the table, but you offered to handle the dishes. the sound of laughter from the other girls slowly faded as they headed to their rooms, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

once the last plate was cleaned and dried, you wiped your hands and headed to your room. exhaustion weighed heavily on you, and you were grateful for the softness of your bed. as you settled under the covers, just on the edge of sleep, a gentle knock startled you.

"come in," you called softly, sitting up slightly.

the door creaked open to reveal wonyoung, holding a small cup of water. her usual brightness was dimmed by concern as she stepped inside. "i noticed you didn’t drink much during dinner," she said, offering the cup with a sweet smile. "i thought you might need this before sleeping."

"oh," you murmured, touched by the gesture. "thank you, wonyoung." taking the cup, you sipped it without a second thought.

as soon as you set the cup down, a strange dizziness overtook you. the room swayed, and your limbs felt heavy. panic rose in your chest, but your body refused to respond.

"w-wonyoung...?" you managed to whisper, your voice slurring.

"shh," she said gently, brushing your hair back. "don’t worry. you’ll be fine." her words were soothing, but the darkness that pulled you under was anything but.

when you woke, the cold bite of metal against your wrists jolted you fully awake. your hands were tied above your head, the cold shackles digging into your skin. your previous clothes were now replaced with a thin white nightgown that barely did anything against the cold. your surroundings were unfamiliar, a grand yet eerie castle chamber, with high ceilings and dark stone walls. the luxurious bed beneath you was in stark contrast to the situation you were in. it was eerie yet seemed familiar…….

your heart pounded as you struggled against the bindings, but they held firm. the dim light from a single window only added to the suffocating sense of dread. how did you end up here? and more importantly, where was wonyoung?

your train of thoughts was cut by the loud bang made by the door, a figure entered and faced you a smirk evident in her face. all the color drained from your face as you properly saw the figure. standing infront of you was the person you were running away from in the first place, the queen herself. queen jang daah.

your shocked must’ve been really obvious because daah began laughing.

“h-how did you find me?” you tensely questioned.

“oh y/n y/n, my sweet innocent y/n.” she mocked. “you thought i’d never find you? you thought a house hidden deep in the forest would be out of my reach? i have eyes everywhere my dear.” she finished, leaning close to you.

if you were first scared, now you were terrified. countless thoughts ran through your head. if daah knows about the house, what happened to the girls? were they caught? oh god hopefully not you prayed.

“why the silence my sweet? cat your tongue?” she giggled, her hand cupping your cheeks.

“w-what did you do to the girls? are they okay? did you hurt them?” you asked, tears starting to well up if your eyes. you let out a gasp at her response.

“oh your housemates? oh dear why would i hurt my attendants? that would be counterintuitive” she tilted her head, her eyes gleaming with menace.  

“a-attendants?” you repeated, your mind racing.  

“yes, my darling. attendants,” she cooed, leaning in closer. “they’ve been serving me all along. my eyes in the forest… such loyal little helpers, don’t you think?”  

your heart sank as her words began to sink in. “they… they were helping you?”  

“of course,” she said with a smirk. “did you think they were just simple girls living in a cottage? no, no, my sweet. they were tasked with bringing you to me. and oh, they did such a fine job of earning your trust.”  

you shook your head, tears spilling over. “no… no, they wouldn’t do that. they’re my friends. you’re lying!”  

her grip on your cheeks tightened slightly, her smile widening. “friends? oh, my dear, how adorably naive. they played their roles well, didn’t they? but don’t fret. their loyalty is rewarded, and now, you are here, right where you belong.”  

“why?” you choked out, struggling against the bonds. “why are you doing this?”  

her expression softened, though the glint in her eyes remained predatory. “because you, my sweet, are special. and i’ve waited far too long to have you. you should feel honored, you’ll never have to leave this castle again.” you didn’t believe her words, surely she ulterior motives right? like she’ll use your body for a ritual or something. 

“don’t struggle, my sweet,” she murmured, her face drawing closer, her lips curving into a smile that sent a chill down your spine. “this will only make it easier for you to understand… you belong to me now.”  

her hand trailed to your jaw, tilting your face up as she leaned in. her breath was warm against your skin, her lips dangerously close. you tried to turn away, but her grip was firm, holding you in place.  

just as her lips were about to meet yours, the door slammed open with a thunderous crash, the sound echoing through the room.  

“get away from her!”  

your eyes widened as you saw wonyoung standing in the doorway, her chest heaving like she’d run all the way there. for a brief moment, relief washed over you until you saw her lips curl into a sly smile.  

“oh, sister, you didn’t think you’d get to have all the fun without me, did you?” she said, stepping inside.  

your heart dropped, confusion and betrayal crashing over you. “w-wonyoung… sister? what’s going on?” you stammered, your voice shaking.  

daah let out a delighted laugh, her hand still cupping your cheek. “oh, my sweet, you didn’t realize? wonyoung isn’t just anyone she’s my sister. and she’s been helping me all along.”  

it all made sense now, why she looked familiar, why she reminded you of someone. she was the queen’s sister. the one rumored to have left the palace in pursuit of a much simpler life, hence you never saw her. but her resemblance to the queen was undeniable

wonyoung’s eyes softened as she approached the bed, but the warmth you’d once found in them felt twisted now. “don’t look so scared,” she murmured, crouching beside you. “we didn’t bring you here to hurt you. we just… couldn’t let you go.”  

“this has to be some kind of sick joke,” you whispered, tears streaming down your cheeks. “you… you lied to me.”  

“we did what we had to,” wonyoung said, brushing a strand of hair from your face. “don’t you see? you’re special. you’re ours.”  

“ours,” daah echoed, her voice dripping with satisfaction. “and now, there’s no escaping it.”  

you struggled against the bindings, your heart pounding in your chest, but neither of them seemed fazed. instead, wonyoung leaned in, her touch unnervingly gentle as she rested her hand on your arm. daah’s grip on your chin tightened, her possessive smile sending shivers down your spine.  

“don’t fight it, my sweet,” daah whispered, her lips dangerously close to yours. “this is your new life. you’re ours now.”  

daah closed the gap betweens yours lips while wonyoung snaked her hands around your torso. her hands played with your breasts until your nipples were erect. this made you moan against daah’s mouth giving her the chance to push her tongue inside your mouth as her hands found their way to your clothed folds, gently rubbing it. 

tears ran down your cheeks as your body responded to their touches in ways you didn’t want. but how could you resist it when two extremely attractive sisters are currently playing with your sensitive regions. daah pulled away for moment giving you the chance to breathe as she ripped your nightgown, exposing your bare body to the cold.

as your body’s natural response, your arms attempted to cover your body but daah caught them in time. 

“no need to hide your beautiful body my sweet,” daah cooed but her toned changed. “we deserve to see it after all the shit that you’ve put us through.”

wonyoung giggled at her sister’s sudden shift before joking, “calm down sis, we have all the time in the world don’t we? after all, she’s ours now”

daah said nothing, only nodding in agreement before sitting up on her knees to unzip her 

gown. wonyoung, seeing her sister, then followed suit. your eyes widened at the sight of their members stood tall between their thighs. seeing your reaction, the sisters dissolved into laughter at how you looked.

“why are you so shocked? it’s not like this is first time seeing one right?” daah mocked leaning closer again, “wonyoung told me about how much of a slut you were to my attendants.” her statement made you whine, closing your eyes in an attempt to hide your embarrassment.

the sisters grinned at your reaction before you felt the tightness of shackles against your wrist suddenly vanish. you open your eyes in confusion and just as you were about to ask a question, wonyoung already cut you off.

“we’re giving you the chance to redeem yourself, so be a good girl for us.” she explained. “and you better not waste it or you’ll face some severe disciplining.”

her last words made you shiver in fear but nevertheless, you nod. it was useless to fight anyway, your first and final attempt to freedom was nothing more than a facade so why not accept and enjoy your new life now?

“words pretty, i need to hear it.”

“y-yes mommies….”

“good.”

“now where we’re we?”

as those words left daah’s mouth, it was like a switch was flicked inside them. their grinning faces turned into faces filled with desire, almost predatory. like you were some sort of prey trapped.

“say sis, which one do you prefer? the front or the back?” wonyoung asked her sister.

“hmmm… i think i’d prefer her backdoor” daah replied, already moving behind you as her hands found their way on your breast. her actions making you moan, leaning back against her which in turn causing your body to rub against her member. this made the queen groan, pulling you closer to her rubbing her member against you.

“don’t forget about me.” wonyoung spoke, leaning in to capture your lips. you moaned against her lips wrapping your arms around neck. you were so loss into the kiss and the amount of stimulation you were receiving that you never noticed that the sisters have already lined their members against your holes.

you pulled away from the kiss to let out a squeal when you felt them enter you. you smothered your face against wonyoung’s neck as you tried to adjust to their sizes. this was only your second time taking two shafts inside you and it wasn’t easier than the first time. the sisters groaned as your walls tightened around them in an attempt to adjust to their sizes.

they stayed still, letting you get used to them. when your whimpers died down, a sign that you’ve adjusted, they were ruthless. daah moved first, and wonyoung followed suit their thrusts pattern all over their face as they try to find a rhythm. your eyes rolled to the back of your head, blindly grabbing anything in your reach. daah’s mouth found their way at the base of your neck leaving light kisses all over, but she soon gave a hard bite making you scream out it pain.

“may this be a reminder of who you belong to, us” daah whispered, thrusting harder than before, her hands slithering down to find your bundle of nerves, abusing it when she found it.

tears ran down your face from the combined sensation of pain and pleasure. wonyoung, seeing this leaned in to kiss your tears away her thrusts, following behind her sister’s. 

“fuck you’re so tight for us y/nnie~. for someone who ran away from us, you’re awfully enjoying this so much” she teased, her lips also finding their way to your neck leaving out her own mark. she pulled away, admiring your mark filled neck that the two of them made. she made eye contact with her sister, smirking as if they read each other’s mind. you felt them slowing down to a stop, pulling out and just as you were about to plead for them, they suddenly plunged back inside you with full force. your mind, now already deteriorated into putty made you mindlessly babble as more tears ran down your face. 

the room was soon filled your cries of “mommy”, your pleas, and the sister’s groans of pleasure as you felt their members hitting your deepest crevices and as you leaned forward in exhaustion your eyes caught sight of something. a bulge can be seen in your womb area, the sight rousing your attention making your moans start to quieten down.

daah, confused with your sudden silence, looked over your shoulder to take a look at whatever it is that caught your attention. seeing the bulge she smirked, leaning in to whisper in your ear.

“fuck, you feel us my sweet? that’s us, that’s us that your slutty body is taking” pressing down the bulge making you wail and wonyoung to let out a groan as her hands found their way to play with your breasts.

“she’s getting tighter–shit i’m getting close ahhh fuck!” wonyoung yelled out, her thrust getting out of control as she tried to chase her high.

“ahhh me too fuck y/n keep that up my sweet” daah followed, groaning as she laid her face in your neck, sniffing your scent. 

with their thrusts being all over the place and getting rougher and deeper inside of you, of course you also felt yourself being pushed over the edge. 

“mommies!” you wailed, “i–fuck cum!” words being forgotten, pleasure overtaking over your cognitive functions. 

“no! you’re not allowed to until we cum!” daah demanded, the restriction worsening your already sobbing state.

“b-but!” you tried to plead, only to be cut by wonyoung “i don't care how good it feels you better not cum unless we tell you to” she spat, closing her eyes.

fortunately, with how much you were squeezing them, they reached their highs. wonyoung came first, gripping your thighs, her nails digging against your skin as she shakingly tried to pump into to you in an attempt to maximize the pleasure that she felt. your eyes rolled to the back of your head as you felt the warm fluid fill up your walls.

daah followed suit due to your anal orifice tightening in response to wonyoung’s release. she grabbed you by your neck, forcing you to look at her, your lips being caught in a liplocking session against her own lips as she releases inside you. 

the overstimulation got to you and without warning, you felt yourself release, your legs twitching as you let out an ear splitting squeal of pleasure, before leaning back against daah in exhastion. wonyoung layed against you too and you all layed there, in a sandwich position, all you of breathing deeply in exhaustion. 

you felt your eyes start to get heavy from fatigue as you squirmed to find a better position to sleep in. as you tried you moved around, the two pulled their members out of you to give you some space to move. when you finally settled down, they both layed beside you, each taking one side. 

“sleep now our darling, you need to regain your energy for next time” wonyoung whispered by your side, leaning in to kiss your cheek. daah seeing her sister’s actions, did the same kissing your other cheek. you smiled at their gesture, as you finally let your sleepiness take over you, finally able to accept your new life in the castle, pleased with the fact that their intentions with you have been cleared.

[princecharmingwinks]

This fic isn't finished yet but I can proudly say it is #1 on my WIP to complete and I have almost up to the +1 part, so hopefully it won't be too far away. Thank you for all your love and support. Special shout out to @jade-bright for not giving up on this WIP, and while I cannot give an ao3 link (yet!), hopefully another little snippet will be a nice treat! Thank you all!

“Have a great day and enjoy the read,”  Stiles said as he handed over the bagged books a customer had just purchased. The elderly woman smiled as she toddled towards the door which was being held open by a guy, roughly Stiles’ age he would guess, who had just entered. Nice to know chivalry wasn’t dead in this economy. 

“Good afternoon, welcome to Alpha Books. Is there anything I can help with today?” Stiles greeted, rounding the counter. It was then that he noticed a petite girl, again around the same vintage as Stiles, had appeared from behind the guy.

Stiles could instantly tell she was a sweetheart. Her smile was warm and shy as she gave a small wave in the form of hello.

“If I am being dragged along on this stupid venture, I’m not going to also be the spokesperson,” the guy grumbled and Stiles wondered how someone who had just held a door open in a polite manner for a stranger could also be so grumpy. 

“Always such a gentleman, Jacks.” The girl rolled her eyes affectionately as she took a step forward. “We have a friend who is currently reading the Bean and Pennywise series and we wanted to gift him the next book in the series,” she explained. 

“Oh! That’s my favourite series ever! What book are they up to?” Stiles began the trek over to the shelf that held the series, feeling true delight to meet another fan of the series, be it through a proxy.

“Oh, um, that’s a good question. Sorry, I don’t know the names myself,” the girl apologised.

“How is my sister-in-law such a dork?” The guy – Jacks? – pulled a piece of paper from the girl’s back pocket and waved it in front of her face.

“Oh! That’s right! I wrote it down. Um,” the girl glanced down. “he just finished book three.” 

Stiles halted the hand he currently had outstretched towards the series books. Oh. This fan was exactly like him. He turned fully back to the pair.

“I’m sorry to disappoint but the author is still working on the fourth and final book of the series. A release date hasn’t actually been confirmed yet, so I can’t even give you an indication. It has left us fans in quite a state of longing.” Stiles draped his hand across his forehead in a dramatic replica of a damsel in distress.

The girl giggled. The guy rolled his eyes, fully judgemental.

“That’s a shame,” the girl said. “I guess he’ll have to wait for the opportune moment himself then.” 

Stiles crinkled his eyebrows in confusion. Was that a metaphor for something else?

Thank you for tag, lovely @noyzinerd !! The snippet you provided on your post was brilliant! I have a few little fics on the go but this one is probably the closest to finished. Not named yet but it is a 5+1 Sterek where Stiles working at a bookstore slowly meets different members of Derek's pack who know Stiles is the perfect match for Derek.

It was a quiet Tuesday afternoon at Alpha Books, Stiles the only staff on while the bosses were away on their 2 year anniversary trip. He was happily humming along to the radio, reshelving when the bell jingled announcing a new customer. 

Stiles popped his head out of the aisle and smiled, “Welcome to Alpha Books, can I help you find anything today?” The new customer was a girl, maybe a few years younger than him and small in stature but her whole presence radiated Tough, with a capital T.

“What do you get your older idiot brother to distract him from the ridiculousness of his life?”

Stiles tried not to grin at the exasperated tone but it must not have worked because the girl’s eyebrows crinkled into a judgemental frown.

“Sorry,” He offered in apology before completely stepping out of the aisle. “What does your brother like to read?”

She huffed out an annoyed sound but Stiles wasn’t completely convinced it was aimed at him. “I have no bloody clue. How do you work out someone’s tastes?”

“Well, what’s he like? Maybe we can work it out together?” Stiles was getting excited now, he loved a good book hunt.

She nodded, taking a moment to think. “He’s one of those crazy morning people who actually enjoys jogging before 7am. But it also means he’s in bed like an old grandma by sundown. He doesn’t like anything too horror-y or gore-y. I guess maybe some kind of adventure series?”

Stiles lit up with excitement, this brother sounded like he may enjoy one of Stiles’ personal favourite series. “Has he ever read the Bean and Pennywise series?”

The girl frowned again, “Been what?”

Stiles held up his hand and ducked down another aisle, returning in a flurry with the first book in the series in hand. He offered it to the girl and gave her time to inspect both front and back covers, including the blurb.

“This Bean guy sounds just like his type.” She gave a small smile and Stiles had a feeling it was a rare sight he was beholding. 

He also had to fight against the blush that was probably forming when he realised he was about to admit that he related way too much to Bean. This girl was super pretty, if not also intimidating, and Stiles was sure her brother would be too. And based on her description, her brother sounded like someone Stiles would swoon over. Stating he was like the lead character in the novel who was apparently her brother's type was way too forward. 

“Awesome! I’ll ring it up for you.” Stiles took the book back and headed over to the counter, slipping the store’s bookmark that doubled as marketing for his blog inside the front cover.

Hope you liked this snippet! Tagging some mutuals since I'm not sure who has been writing lately or not. No pressure of course :) @fairytales-and-folklore @breakingjen @elisela @haletostilinski

[dominarava]

Angel

Ghostface × Female!Reader

CW: Dub/Non-Con, Blood, Stalking, Breaking & Entering, usual fucked up GF stuff

Rating: 18+

Word Count: 2.2k

Summary: The quiet guy in your discord server decides to chat you up in the general vc, and as expected, has a lot more to unpack than you ever expected.

Notes: I was lazy and just posted the ugly default AO3 link when I first posted this, so I'm coming back and making it look nicer with new and improved tags lol

This piece doesn't specify who is really behind the mask, so whoever you want is up to you~

I had fun with this and left light references to the movies, Dead By Daylight, and Mortal Kombat to honor some of my favorite appearances of him-- hopefully it doesn't ruin the immersion lol

I don't usually leave notes, but it's been a while and I've adored all the comments and kudos I've gotten in my absence, cause at the end of the day, that's what will always bring me back. I love all your support and time reading this and hopefully I have more soon to come for you all!

Thank you again so much for reading, and I hope you enjoy! 🔪💕✨️

AO3 Link

This had become the nightly habit: get off work, make dinner, chill with the lads in a Discord call until bedtime. Mindlessly playing a game, you weren't surprised by the sound of someone joining the call, however you were surprised by who it was. He was a rando that had joined a while back, was nice enough, but didn't have much to say as he relegated himself to really only short replies or emoji reactions. You could have sworn he posted a thirst trap without his face in the #selfies channel, but you weren't 100% sure. When he would join calls he would always stay muted, opting to reply in the text chat or not at all, merely listening to and enjoying just being around the good times happening. All the same, you felt it rude to not say at least a little hello. 

“Hey! How’re you doin’ tonight?” 

“Hey there~” 

The voice on the other side was low, having a bit of a flirtatious twang in the sigh of his greeting. Your heart skipped a beat, you weren't sure if he had ever spoken to you, much less anyone else in the server. And if you were being honest, he sounded kind of hot. Letting the giddy feeling ride, you tried to keep him talking since it was just the two of you. 

“Woah–” You poked cheekily, “I dunno if I've heard you say anything before.” 

“I'm more of a one-on-one kind of guy,” He offered smoothly, “But I enjoy listening to everyone having a good time.” 

“Fair–” 

The air fell dead as you wondered what to talk about next, letting him cut into the silence with a question, “So.. what's your favorite scary movie?” 

Having just finished a server horror movie night not too long ago, the question felt like a natural segway into your interests, “Hmmnn that's actually a good question– I think if we're just talkin’ horror in general my first and favorite would have to be Silence Of The Lambs. The back and forth relationship between Clarice and Dr. Lecter was probably one of the most challenging to my mind at the ripe age of twelve, since then I've loved horror that has a female protagonist that is put under pressure by the killer to make difficult choices and solve the puzzle he left for her.

“But– that's not to say pieces like Substance or Midsommer aren't incredible mentally challenging works of art to me, I love both, along with movies like The Empty Man, Smile, It Follows, The VVitch, The Void, V/H/S–”

He cut your train with a light chuckle, “I definitely want to know which you thought was better, Smile or It Follows, but I meant to ask, what’s your favorite slasher movie?” 

You gave this one a lot more consideration as your heart swelled with a damning excitement at the thought of your favorite killers, “That's such a hard choice! Of course Micheal Myers from <i>Halloween</i> is like everyone's big daddy– but I think if I had to choose it would have to be Stab! Ghostface is just a lot more fun, playful, and let's be honest– horny.” 

“Oh yeah?” He hummed, “Why's that?” 

How his tone seemed to curl at the end of his words made your chest tighten and a heat rise to your cheeks, “I mean, at the heart of it.. the voice actor responsible for his voice changer in the movie said that his tone is flirtatious, beyond that– between the fact that the first Ghostface seemed to get off on the idea of causing his object of obsession, Sidney, the most pain possible by the mocking of her mother being the town bicycle and it's even pointed to at the end of the movie that the two who were behind the Ghostface killings were the same two that brutalized Sidney's mother–” 

“Goddamn–” Nearly groaning his words as he cut you off, he cleared his throat and pressed, “Good girl~ You sure do know your stuff.” Praising you with words that melted like chocolate over your tongue, your mind tilted at his words, ‘Good girl’. 

Good girl?!

“Excu–”

“I fuckin’ love girls like you–” He went on, swearing you could hear the ache of him through the call, “Your type always knows how really appreciate us..” 

‘Us’?

Before you could get a word in, he went on, “Buuut it looks like that's my cue– I hope you're ready for some fun this evening.” Leaving the conversation with the disconnect sound chiming through your ears in silence to process what just happened. 

The sound of him leaving the call let a wash of relief run over you, only lasting for a moment as the floor creaking caught your attention with arms wrapping you in a winding embrace. Having your arms pinned at your sides, your hands flailed looking for any sort of way out. Only, the way your grip seemed to find his length caged behind his pants before skirting over to the long hunting knife strapped to his leg, making your struggle against him stop with a gasp.

“Yeah.. that's all for you Babe, whatever you need– so.. let's behave.. alright..?” The same voice that was lingering in your headset only moments ago was in high definition against your back. 

Firmly pressing his hand over your mouth, you froze as someone else joined the empty call with you, “Hey you there?” 

Your headphones loud enough for him to hear, an uneasy pause passed between you two as his hold over your lips lessened, “Yeah-” He let you breathe through his nitrile gloved fingers.

“Good, kinda glad he's gone, he's chill and all, but it kinda bugs me that he's just in here just dead-ass silent all the time. Fuckin’ weird.” 

Looking over your shoulder a bit to get any sort of a look at him, you were only met with the deep black drooping eyes framed by a gasping bone white mask. Familiarity of the visage made your heart drop into your stomach, forcing you to chew on the harsh fact that that same familiarity you knew to fear, also brought the flutter of butterflies in with it.  

A rough bump of his hips to your back-end snapped you out of your own mind and made you bark out, “Uh– Same– he is kinda weird, I've– talked to him a little bit and he just– seems like a bit of a creep..”

“Oooh shit whaddaya mean?” 

He peered over your shoulder to look at you, curious to see how you would pull this along as his other hand pushed at the elastic of your pajama bottoms, “He uh– waited for everyone to leave– and then started hella chatting me up–” 

“Are you good? It sounds like you're doing something.” 

Eyeing him, the slight nod of his head coaxed you to keep talking while his fingers made their home in exploring your heat, “Yeah I'm fine– I think I pulled a muscle and I–”

“Oh shit– sorry, one sec– groceries are here, I'll be back in a minute!”

At the sound of her disconnection he lifted you up with a near effortless toss onto the bed, wasting no time crawling on top of you to get at what little clothing was left with his blade. Watching the fabric dance away from your frame, he gripped your wrist as you tried to switch your mic off.

“Go on.. stay in that call.. let ‘em all know what a stagy little whore you are.” He pushed, lifting the hem of his hoodie above the glimmer of the silver button hiding his length behind the black denim. 

No time was wasted getting into you, making himself at home between your legs with a few rough thrusts and shivering grunts that made your mind twist. Squirming under him the grit falling off his boots into your blankets made you buck against him in frustration, earning a low sigh from him as his beat picked up. 

“Mmn if you keep fighting me.. I'll gut you like a fucking pig.” Groaning into your ear, the delicate touch of his knife teased itself between your breasts. 

Defiance sparked in you to bite back, “If we're– oh god– following the rules, you'll just do it anyway–” 

The blade pulled its edge against your skin, splitting you like a ripe peach under its cut, “True.. but the killer's favorite little slut never dies.. she's gotta make it to the sequel, the trilogy, hell! Maybe a whole fuckin’ saga..”

Suddenly ringing in your ear the sound of the bluetooth assistant chimed,

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

You held your lips tight as the length of him pushed to the hilt over and over, letting the air in the call stay dead as your friend and others passed through, thinking you were away from your keyboard. 

“What’s wrong? Suddenly have nothing to say? I thought you liked the idea of being yanked around by a big man with a knife? Little different than on the big screen, ain't it Babe?” 

You could practically hear him purring behind the mask, his pace slowing to deep grind as you felt the rub of his metal pants zipper dig into your skin like a threat.

“Mmmm– remember a couple weeks back– we were all watching that scary movie– when you wouldn't shut the fuck up about how you wanted to ride that slashers cock like a carnival ride– fuck you don't know what that did to me– hearing you get all giddy about bouncing on dick after a kill– goddamn you don't have a fuckin’ clue– how bad I wanted bust through that fuckin’ window and tear you apart–” 

Gripping his palm across your eyes to pin your head to the bed, the unrelenting barrage of what came was less of a kiss and more of a hostile takeover of your senses. You couldn't tell how long you were left to his devices, using you with the excitement of a new sex doll he'd been waiting months for. The fight in you began to fade with the swipe of your tongue to his, earning the zeal of him rutting into you harder. 

“See.. I knew you'd love it..” 

Battery Low.. Please Charge Soon.

Dipping down to your chest to kiss the fresh wound that lay spilling blood around your breasts, taking in the heavy scent of your rubies like a jewel thief making his biggest heist. Slipping his free hand over your chest to the slick of your nipple made you gasp as a perfect distraction before pulling his mask back down. Adorning his usual visage now laid a smeared print of your life in blinding crimson, letting that be the first and only thing you saw as he let you have your vision back in the darkness. Against the blur of your eyes readjusting from the pressure of his weight on them, the dip of his frame dropping against yours with his hands gripping the sides of your head in a vice made you dizzy with a feral beat between your legs. Throughout his treatment you didn't feel that familiar latex rub of a barrier between you, forcing your stomach into a twist as his panting behind the mask got heavier. 

The first grace of the evening came when you finally heard the powering down beeping of your headset giving its last bit of juice before cutting out. Unbound by the fear of being heard, your voice let out a moan that vibrated the silence of the dead air room. Relaxing a little under him, he pushed your rear up, angling himself better to pump deep before running his fingers over the tacky blood joining the fresh on your chest in a macabre mess. Having the dig of his fingertips into the open wound weeping from you was a new kind of violation before he breathed out a shaken manic pleasure from the mask that captivated you. 

“Oh fuck– I'm going to smear your blood over my every  fucking pore!” The bubbling frenzy in his tone gave away his devouring bliss as it promised to swallow you whole. 

Honestly, you weren't long for the session either way as he found just the right spot to rub his tip into the soft warmth of you hugging his length and perfect grind of his mound against your bud aching to come undone. Seeing him watch you in those last moments before you went over the edge was enough to send you there as you trembled and cried out under his grip. Moaning and reaching to touch him in any way you could, you couldn't get enough of him as your body craved the closeness it needed. Expecting swift punishment for the affection, he surprised you by taking your hand in his, slowing his pace. Lacing your fingers as one, the gentle caress of his thumb to your skin had your rose colored glasses as red as they could be. Watching with a affectionately hazed gaze while he pinned you down, your skin when cold as his words dripped from his lips like sweet poison: 

“You think you're getting away that easy? I'm just gonna cum and that be that? No.. I prepared for this all day. You're not goin’ fucking anywhere.”

[mirx-xko-offical]

I’ve always enjoyed the idea of body swap fics

the idea of you swapping bodies with someone like Rook you stressing out hard and rook having the time of his life gaining a deeper understanding of you

not to mention the fact the beastmen and merboys avoid ‘Rook’ like the plague and r very off scared of ‘your’ new personality

this lady’s, gentlemen and, our other gendered friends, is a amazing idea. I’ve never written for Rook so this is going to be fun !!

prompt: Body swap

Content warnings- Second person pov, nothing romantic (honestly because I don’t know how I’d make this romantic tbh), Not proofread, Rook (and probably Vil) is probably OOC mainly because I haven’t written him before (and quite frankly don’t like him that much but please don’t come after me for it 🙏), probably short because I’m trying to finish it for once

You’d never expect to not only wake up in someone else’s bedroom but, to also be in their body too… The bad thing is that you seemed to swap with someone who has a certain stalker reputation. Oh how you wonder how you’d make it through the day. Hopefully he doesn’t do anything weird to your body.

You dress yourself, looking at yourself in the mirror before a certain housewarden walked in, seemingly checking in on the blond that your soul is currently in.

’Rook! There you are. Where were you this morning? You were meant to wake me up!’

He complains as you just stood there awkwardly, unsure how to explain the current situation you’re in.

‘That’s the thing…’

You mumble on, explaining how you weren’t the blonde he was looking for but instead the magicless human. He simply stood there before sighing.

‘Why must it always be you potato…’

‘I don’t know..’

You sulk for a while as you followed Vil around, so ready to get out of the blonde’s body. Speaking of the said blonde, what just is he doing while he’s in your body? You’d much rather not think of it…

You sigh as you walked into your potions class, the only class you really have with him. Everyone turning towards you suspiciously as you kept your head low, most of them not knowing about the swap of bodies.

You sit down at Rook’s usual desk, looking towards the doorway before finding Rook or rather you walk in with the amount of confidence you’d never have in your life.

You decide to just keep your head low and wait u til the end of class to confront Mr. Crewel about it.

You look up at the clock again, something you did often today it seemed. 5 minutes til the end… You thought to yourself, your mind always making sure you knew the time.

Time passed by slowly as if it was slowing down to a complete stop. You look at the clock again, reading the time. 3 more minutes…

Then those 3 minutes turned into 2 and finally I to 1. Most of the students by then were already packing up their stuff as Professor Crewel finished the lesson.

You sigh at the sound of the bell finally ringing, standing up from your seat before walking up to the professor. You glance over to see Rook do the same.

You were the first to speak, telling him about the entire situation through your awkwardness, looking up from his desk to see him nod, understanding what you were saying.

‘I am sure I have something for you pups.’

He hummed as she stood from his desk, walking over to a shelf, grabbing a potion with a small purple hue. He gave it to you both, telling you to simply drink it and you’d be back.

You look over to Rook, him giving you his signature smile before drinking it himself, giving you a nod to drink it as well.

You looked down at the potion before placing your lips against it, drinking it quickly as if almost out of desperation.

You gasp before feeling your vision fade before finding yourself opening your eyes, looking down to find yourself back in your own body. You look at Professor Crewel before nodding to him respectfully, walking out of his class with a thank you.

You’re sure that both you and rook had came to an agreement, to never have this happen again.

[aaronstveit]

so you want to read more this year!

i answered an ask about this recently, but i thought i would make a post about it so i could (hopefully) be a bit more clear and helpful. i specifically wanna help people who used to read a lot, but have fallen off for a while now. obviously everyone is different, but i hope at least a few of these tips can help you.

let yourself read slowly. you don't have to speedrun every book you read; in fact, it's usually better if you don't. forget the way that you used to race through books when you were younger. let yourself take time with them now. especially if you haven't read much lately, it's going to take you longer to read now than it used to. and that's okay! a lot of stories are better when they are experienced slowly, so you can absorb them more.

stop viewing reading as a competition. you aren't trying to win a pizza party or special field trip now, so there is no need to compete with other readers. so what if someone else read 10 books in the time it took you to read 1? other readers have nothing to do with you. the only person you should be "competing with" is yourself.

that said, setting goals and challenges for yourself can be a life-changer. i'm not just talking about a goodreads goal, although setting a numerical goal is often helpful. but i mean setting more broad goals, like reading more books of certain genres, or more books by authors of color. setting goals without specified quantities can help you because it's not a pass-fail situation, it's just a personal challenge. there are also all sorts of reading challenges you can try, like reading a book for every letter of the alphabet. you can find any sort of reading challenge on the internet; the storygraph has a whole section dedicated to challenges, both site-run and user-run. you can even create your own! popsugar also runs a very popular year-long reading challenge.

experiment with book formats. physical books, e-books, and audiobooks allow several different formats for people to try out! figuring out which formats work best for you help you to enjoy reading and gain more from the experience. don't listen to people who say audiobooks aren't "reading." if you enjoy audiobooks, listen to them! the only person you have to answer to is yourself.

experiment with different genres. even if you think you know exactly what genres you like and don't like, try branching out and trying books outside of your comfort zone, especially if you haven't read a lot lately. you never know when your tastes might change!

don't be afraid to DNF or pause a book. the thing about reading as a hobby is that it's supposed to be fun. yes, you should read books that challenge you, but this doesn't mean you have to make it to the end of every book. if you're hating a book, if you dread picking it up, if it bores you: just quit. that way, you can find a book you actually enjoy to read. trying to force your way through a book you're hating just usually makes you read less in the long run.

utilize your public library if you have one. this one always feels obvious, and yet people always seem to forget it. libraries exist for a reason! a lot of libraries have apps where you can check out e-books and audiobooks, so definitely use those if you have them. if you want to read a physical copy of a book that your library doesn't have, you can probably request an interlibrary loan! and if they still don't have it, you can usually request that your library order a book.

take advantage of books in the public domain. most classics are now in the public domain, which means that you can read them for free on Project Gutenberg, and if you use apple products, you can usually find them as free ebooks on Apple Books as well. if you're looking for audiobooks, Project Gutenberg also has those. you can also check out LibriVox, which is a volunteer-based organization that provides free audiobooks of public domain books. you can find a lot of their books as free podcasts on spotify!

reread old favorites. this is my personal favorite way to get out of a reading slump. familiar favorites are great for getting your brain back into reading mode without having to introduce yourself to a brand new story. you can also take the opportunity to annotate, if you're into that! speaking of which:

don't let the idea of annotation intimidate you. if you're not being graded, you can do whatever you want with annotations! i know some people who choose specific themes and tab them in their books, which is cool. some people just highlight favorite quotes and passages, and that's good too! you can pick out foreshadowing, make notes on things you find funny or interesting, even draw on the pages! if it's your copy of a book, then you can do whatever you like with it.

challenge yourself to write reviews. even if it's only a few sentences, it makes you engage more with the story, which is a good thing! you don't have to share these reviews, you can keep them in a private journal or document if you like. but it's good to make you think more about the book you've just read.

check the trigger warnings. if you have any triggers whatsoever, you definitely want to check trigger warnings before you read a book. you can usually find them by scrolling through goodreads reviews, or by googling "[book name] trigger warnings."

let yourself get distracted sometimes. i know this sounds counterintuitive, but hear me out. if you're in the middle of reading and suddenly you start thinking about scrolling through social media or something, finish your chapter and then let yourself scroll for a few minutes. it's better to give yourself a few minutes to scroll and then come back to your book, rather than continue "reading" while just thinking about scrolling. i'm not saying to put down your book and devote yourself to your instagram feed for the rest of the day; just take a few minutes, then get back to your book. do it between every chapter if you have to. or, if you decide you want a snack or something to drink, go get it! you don't have to sit still for hours on end if that doesn't work for you.

find someone, anyone, that you can talk to about books. it can be a person irl or online, a friend or coworker or family member. you can join a book club or a discord server. just, if you can, find someone to talk to about the books you're reading. this is another way to engage more with your reading material, because you're thinking about it in conversation, and it's also a way to get more excited about the things you're reading! you don't even have to be reading the same books. you can also recommend books to each other, and discover new favorites this way.

try reading more than one book at a time. mix and match genres, time periods, and styles so that you have different books going for different moods. that way, if one book isn't holding your attention, you have another one that will.

social media is cool, but don't let it control you. let social media bring you new book recommendations and friends, but don't let it dictate what you read or how you organize your bookshelves. just because everyone else is reading something doesn't mean you have to, if you don't want to; just because everyone else has a picture-perfect reading nook doesn't mean you need one, too. you aren't less of a reader because you don't spend hundreds of dollars on new books, or because you don't read the most popular genres and authors. you also aren't less of a reader for reading what's most popular! again, you aren't in competition with anyone else. don't let bookfluencers steal your joy.

obviously, this list isn't all-encompassing or universal. this is just the advice that helped me get back into reading after years of barely touching a book. i hope there is something on this list that can help you, if you need it. happy reading!

[kisolvetica]

Hello!!! Thanks for the tag!! <3 Didn't expect to be tagged to be honest but I'm glad I did get tagged! :D

Also I must say everyone who reblogged before me sounds like such cool people! :>

Last song: American Jesus by Bad Religion! At first I wanted to say a Bowie song because I was listening to it all day due to it having been his death anniversary but then my playlist thought to be like "I don't think so!" and played a different song I like. I am pretty much a person who listens to everything.

Favourite colour: Despite my layout having purple and blue as the primary colours, my favourite colours are yellow (especially the yellow daffodils have) and dark green! Obviously I also like my layout colours but I'd say green and yellow just feel so soothingly happy to me.

Last Book: I am currently reading Faust 1 by Goethe because my finals are creeping up and it's one of the books I may need for those lol. But I also enjoy the book quite a lot!

Last movie: The phantom of the opera! I watched it together with my mother one random evening last year and I haven't watched any movie since then. I do want to watch Nosferatu next, though!

Last TV show: My mother and I have started watching a lot of shows together (this includes DBDA but it was too gay to handle for her conservative mind and she noped out after the cat king was introduced) and the latest is "From" it's not really popular, I think, at least it doesn't have a lot of Fanfics but I did enjoy the first season. I am a little sceptical about how they always introduce a bunch of characters but I hope that they flesh them out! It does have sapphics though so that's a win.

Sweet/Spicy/Savoury: I do have a big sweet tooth but I think outside of snacks and chocolate I am more of a fan of spicy food? Like, if someone asked me whether I'd want a spicy or a sweet dish for dinner, Id probably be more inclined to choose the spicy one.

Last thing I searched online: I researched for a fanfic I want to write and so it's "Boarding schools in Edwardian Britain" (now take a big guess for which fandom!! It's so niche you will never figure it out /s)

Current Obsession: My obsession with Genshin and HSR is dying down quite a bit (let's face it, it's the fandom's fault) And now my focus is back on demons and Greek Mythology. I have the want to get into Athuriana literature as well but ugh I'm too busy for this. Outside of occultism and mythology, yeah, obviously DBDA. It hit me HARD and I'm not mad!!! ... Also my own OCs but that's something only I can fix.

Looking forward to: Graduation!! Yes, everyone is telling me that it only gets worse from now on (which,,, very promising btw) but I am so glad when I leave this school. At least at university I can choose a bit more of what I want to do. I am also gonna get a therapist which I am in dire need of and hopefully try to get gender affirming care at the end of the year. I already have a job lined up so the only other things I want to achieve this year is finishing up my driver's license and get the scholarship I applied for but that part is something I have no control over! Also, I might need to look out for apartments because of a reason surrounding my family situation but, well, I prefer living alone anyway. Just gotta see how I'm gonna support myself.

Ten people I'd like to know better: You know, I don't even know if I know the blog names of ten separate people or if they're even okay with me tagging them (what's the etiquette for that? I know that some other platforms were rather... nasty about it). So,,, if you come across this and you want to do this, I always like to read about other people's interests!! So pretend I tagged you, if we're mutuals or I follow you, I do know and like you, I am just an awkward person who doesn't know how to act with people :).

10 People I'd Like to Know Better

Thanks for the tags @gaiaseyes451 and @beerok23!💜!💜

last song: Gloria by the Lumineers

favourite colour: Red, like a deep luscious red that you know would taste good if you licked it. Don't act innocent, you know exactly what I mean by that. Red is a color that you just know tastes good.

last book: I am currently trying to read the Witcher series (per @lickthecowhappy's suggestion) so I am at the start of the Last Wish

last movie: Moana 2 (I have young kidsssss)

last TV show: My oldest is almost 10 which means she stays up late. Which also means I have so little time to watch adult things. So we've been watching the Office with her. I think I want to watch the Good Place with her next tho (I've never watched it!)

sweet/spicy/savoury: Sweet followed very, very closely by spicy. Habanero maple syrup is one of my favorite things on the planet.

last thing i searched online: How to explain a 10 year career hiatus in a cover letter (looking to return to work since having kids. It's been an interesting experience so far).

current obsession: Have not moved on from Good Omens, but recently realized that my obsession may be more in my own little connected universe of fics that I wrote rather than the actual canon at this point😳. I'm sure once we get that first glimpse of red and white hair that will change very quickly.

looking forward to: Going back to work and having a more established adult life again, honestly. I've been so lucky to be home with my kids while they are young, but I am ready. And figuring out how my newfound passion for writing is going to fit into that new life of mine. Another big year of change over here for me, and I am eagerly looking forward to how the growing pains are going to make way for something beautiful beyond.

ten people i’d like to know better:

@addledmongoose, @di-42, @afrenchwriter, @haemey, @eybefioro, @alwaystuesday, @katspause, @alphacentaurinebula, @shadesofecclescakes, @ochre-sunflower and whoever wants to do it (but also feel free to ignore!)

[focusonkayjay]

Wildly Wealthy Koreans (7); inspired by Crazy Rich Asians

Pairing: Jungkook x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: photographer/ filmmaker! jungkook, rich girl/ fashion designer! reader, established relationship, angst, fluff, smut

Series summary: When you invite your boyfriend, Jungkook, to accompany you to your brother's wedding in your hometown, Daegu, he’s overjoyed, eager to meet your family and experience a side of your life you’ve never shared with him. However, once he uncovers the truth about who you really are, he’s unable to grasp the full extent of your reality. The situation becomes even more complicated when a certain someone makes him feel profoundly unwelcome, leaving him to question not only your world, but also his place in it.

Disclaimer: This series is heavily inspired by the movie Crazy Rich Asians, with the storyline closely following the original film's plot. However, I wanted to reimagine it as a fanfiction, where Jungkook and OC take center stage as the main protagonists. While I’ve kept the core elements and themes from the movie, I’ve added my own touches here and there, such as altering certain character dynamics and incorporating a few original settings. Some scenes are directly inspired by the movie, and I’ve worked to recreate them in a way that it hopefully resonates with the fans of the movie. Hope you enjoy!!

Word Count: 7.7k+

Chapter Warnings: i'm assuming there are no warnings but if i need to add anything pls do lmk !!

A/N: my fav part about working on this series is having to rewatch the movie repeatedly to make sure i’m capturing its essence just right. at this point, i feel like i could recite every line by heart without even watching it lmao. anywaysss, this series is wrapping up soon, and I’m going to miss it SOOOO MUCH. pls do read this part and let me know your thoughts! <3

part 7

"I don’t want any part of your family." Jungkook announces, his voice sharp. Before you, your mother, or your grandmother can respond, he turns on his heel and strides away.

You gasp softly, a lump forming in your throat as you spin to face your mother and grandmother, your eyes glistening. "Was this really necessary?" you seethe, your voice trembling with anger and disbelief.

Without waiting for a reply, you rush after Jungkook, your heart pounding as panic and hurt collide within you. The music and laughter of the party feel like a cruel backdrop as you weave through the crowd, calling his name.

Jungkook, however, is already far ahead, his chest tight and his breathing ragged as he pushes through the sea of dancing bodies.

He doesn’t stop, doesn’t look back, his mind reeling from everything he’s just heard. The weight of the accusations, the humiliation, the betrayal... it’s all too much. He crashes into shoulders, mumbles hurried apologies, but keeps moving, driven by only one instinct... to escape.

You, meanwhile, search frantically, your eyes darting through the kaleidoscope of lights and people. “Jungkook!” you call out, your voice barely audible over the music.

You somehow manage to spot Taehyung and Miyeon, who are laughing with your cousins, their cheeks flushed from champagne and joy.

"Have you seen Jungkook?" you ask breathlessly, your desperation apparent. They all exchange confused glances, clearly dazed and unaware of the storm brewing inside you. "No, I haven’t..." Taehyung answers, his brows furrowing. "Is everything okay?"

But you’re already stepping away, scanning the room, your pulse quickening with every passing second. You press through the crowd, ignoring the curious looks from partygoers as dread settles deep in your chest. You silently curse yourself for letting him slip away, knowing how deeply this moment must have wounded him.

Jungkook, now outside the hall, stands under the open night sky, his chest heaving as he tries to steady himself. The cool air stings his skin, but it does little to numb the chaos inside him.

For a fleeting moment, he thought he had found a place to belong... someone to belong to. But tonight, the cracks have grown far too wide, and all he can feel is the ache of being an outsider again.

If your mother’s disapproval had ended with him, he could have taken it... he had prepared himself for that. But dragging his only family into it, accusing his mother, the one person who had given up everything for him? That was unbearable.

The words your mother spoke play on a loop in his head, tearing at his composure. His mother... the woman who worked tirelessly, who sacrificed her dreams for his future, who always made sure he had what he needed, no matter how little they had... how could anyone think so little of her?

He clenches his fists, trying to dispel the anger and confusion threatening to consume him.

And yet, there’s a tiny seed of doubt buried beneath the pain, watered by memories of the sudden move to New York. How his mother randomly quit her job in Busan one day and told him to pack up. How she never offered a real explanation, only saying... "It’s for the best."

Jungkook shakes his head, his trust in her unshaken, but his mind remains clouded. He doesn’t know what to think, what to believe. He feels lost, untethered, as though the ground beneath him is crumbling away.

There’s only one place he can think of going right now... away from this party, away from all these people, away from the echoes of your mother’s piercing words, and that’s Yoongi’s place.

The city noise fades into the background as Jungkook walks, his steps heavy and mechanical. The streets of Daegu blur together, unimportant and indistinct, as he trudges forward, his blazer hanging limply from one hand while the other is buried deep in his pocket.

By the time he reaches Yoongi’s estate, his shoulders are slumped, his head bowed, and he looks like a man carrying the weight of the world.

The massive iron gates screech open, revealing the familiar expanse of Yoongi’s mansion. Jungkook steps inside, dragging his feet across the paved path.

The grand doors swing open almost immediately, and Yoongi rushes out to meet him. "Kook!" Yoongi’s voice is filled with concern, and it’s obvious that the guards must have informed him of Jungkook’s unexpected arrival.

As Yoongi jogs towards him, his expression shifts from confusion to alarm. He slows down when he’s just a few steps away, studying Jungkook intently, trying to piece together why his friend is here instead of at the wedding.

But when Yoongi looks into Jungkook’s eyes, he immediately knows better than to ask. The storm of emotions written all over Jungkook’s face... hurt, betrayal, and exhaustion speaks volumes.

Yoongi doesn’t press for answers, doesn’t push him to talk. Instead, he closes the remaining distance and pulls Jungkook into a firm, securing hug.

Jungkook stiffens at first, but then he lets out a shuddering breath, his tension easing just slightly as he leans into the warmth of Yoongi’s embrace. He shuts his eyes tightly, as if holding them closed can stop the emotions threatening to spill over.

//

You click your tongue in frustration, shaking your head as the voicemail drones on again. You lower your phone, staring at the screen, your heart sinking with every passing second.

Taking a shaky breath, you dial his number again, your hands trembling. "Please... please pick up, Kook... please." you mutter, but just like the 36 times before, the call goes unanswered.

Standing just outside the wedding venue, the muffled sounds of the party echo faintly behind you. The heavy bass of the music vibrates through the ground beneath your feet, a constant reminder of the celebration you’re supposed to be a part of.

Yet everything feels distant, blurred, inconsequential. Your mind is consumed by only one thing, only one person... Jungkook. His face. The look in his eyes when your mother and grandmother shattered the fragile sense of belonging he had.

A part of you knew your mother wasn’t exactly thrilled when you brought Jungkook home for the first time. She had always envisioned someone who fit her rigid mold of perfection... someone polished, wealthy, and born into a family with status.

Jungkook, didn’t exactly align with her ideal type for you. But you convinced yourself, naively, that in time she would see what you saw in him. That after witnessing how much you loved him, she would come around.

What you didn't expect was this. This level of cruelty. A literal background check? Digging into his family’s past? And then to humiliate him so mercilessly in the middle of a celebration? The memory of it makes your stomach churn, a fresh wave of guilt crashing over you.

But you don’t care about his past. You never did. Whatever your mother uncovered, whatever reasons she thinks she has to deem him “unworthy”...none of it matters to you. What matters is him... the man you know, the man you love.

You don’t see Jungkook as a blemish on your family’s pristine reputation or a potential "threat" to your social standing.

You see him as the man who stole your heart the day you met him in New York. The dreamy photographer whose eyes light up when he talks about the things he’s passionate about. The man who sees the world through a lens most people couldn’t even imagine.

You love him for his little quirks... for the way he fusses over perfect lighting, the way he scrunches his nose when he’s deep in thought, the way he pouts his lips to hold himself back from crying while you both watch sappy romcoms in his little apartment, the way he makes you feel truly seen. Not as the rich girl born into privilege, but as you. Just you.

And now, you’re terrified you might have lost him. Terrified that the person who made you feel whole might be slipping away because of the very family you’ve tried so hard to reconcile him with.

Your phone screen dims, and you realize with a jolt that your call has ended... voicemail again. Your breath hitches, and your vision blurs as desperation claws at your chest.

A tear trickles down your cheek and all you can think about is where Jungkook's gone, how he is and what's going through his mind.

//

“Kook… you gotta eat something, man.” Yoongi calls gently from the doorway of the guest room, his voice low and laced with concern.

His eyes scan the dimly lit room, landing on Jungkook, who remains curled up under a thick blanket, his back turned to the world. The younger man is a still, silent figure, lost in the folds of the bed.

There’s no response. No shift. No acknowledgment. Just the faint rise and fall of Jungkook’s shoulders as he breathes.

It’s been a full day since Jungkook showed up at Yoongi’s doorstep, looking like a ghost of himself. He hadn’t offered much explanation, but Yoongi didn’t need one. He’d pieced it together soon enough.

“Alright...” Yoongi murmurs, almost to himself, noticing how Jungkook doesn’t so much as flinch. “Maybe later.” He steps back, pulling the door shut and makes his way to the living room.

“He’s still the same.” Yoongi says as he steps into the room, his tone subdued. His gaze shifts to you, perched on the edge of the couch. You’re sitting so still, your hands clasped tightly on your lap, your knuckles pale.

When Yoongi called you earlier in the morning, informing you that Jungkook was at his place, you hadn’t hesitated. You came immediately, in hopes of seeing how Jungkook was doing.

But now, sitting here, your chest aches with a mix of guilt, worry, and helplessness. You’ve already told Yoongi about what happened at the party... how your mother humiliated Jungkook, dredging up his past like it was some dark secret to be weaponized. And now, the image of his face in that moment... hurt, exposed, betrayed, still haunts you.

Every instinct screams at you to go upstairs, to see him, to explain, to apologize. But fear holds you back. What if you make it worse? What if he doesn’t want to see you? What if he blames you, even though none of this was your doing?

You force yourself to take a breath, the air shaky as it fills your lungs. “Okay then…” Your voice is quiet, almost trembling, as you stand up from the couch. “I’ll leave now.”

Yoongi watches you with a mix of empathy and reluctance. He doesn’t try to stop you, though you can tell he wishes he could offer some kind of comfort.

You make your way to the front door, your footsteps slow and hesitant. But when you reach the door, you pause, turning to face Yoongi. “He’ll... be okay, right?” you ask, your voice soft, fragile. Your eyes search his, pleading for reassurance you desperately need.

Yoongi’s lips press into a thin line before he offers a small, tentative smile. “Hopefully.” he says gently. “I’ll keep you updated. Don’t worry too much.”

You nod, though his words do little to ease the ache in your chest. Your smile in return is faint, barely there, as you turn and step out to leave

Once you’re gone, Yoongi lingers at the door for a moment, watching your car drive away. Then, with a deep exhale, he retreats upstairs, returning to the guest room. The room is as it was... dim, still, heavy with silence. Jungkook hasn’t moved an inch.

Yoongi approaches the bed, sitting on the edge, careful not to startle him. “Kook...” he begins, his tone soft but steady. “Y/n was here.” That gets a reaction, albeit a subtle one. Jungkook’s shoulders stiffen ever so slightly, but he doesn’t turn around.

“She’s worried about you, you know.” Yoongi says gently, his voice cutting through the thick silence. “Said you haven’t been answering her calls.” He pauses, his eyes fixed on the back of Jungkook’s head, waiting for any sign of acknowledgment. When none comes, he exhales softly. “Maybe you should talk to her.”

Jungkook remains motionless, his eyes locked on the faint glow of light outlining the edges of the curtains. The world outside feels distant, unreachable, like a place he no longer belongs.

He’s seen the missed calls, the messages, each one a silent plea from you. He knows you’re worried, he can feel it even in your absence. But the thought of facing you now feels impossible.

His mind loops through the events of the night before... the way your mother’s biting words had stripped him bare in front of you. The sting of humiliation burns fresh in his memory, each detail sharper than the last. He knows it wasn’t your fault. You had no part in what happened, no idea of your mother’s cruel intentions.

Still, the weight of it all... the shame, the vulnerability, the fear that you might look at him differently now, keeps him rooted to the bed.

He misses you. God, he misses you so much it hurts. He wants nothing more than to bury his face in your shoulder, to let your presence soothe the storm raging inside him. But right now, he feels too raw, too exposed.

Maybe he just needs time. Space.

Yoongi watches him closely, waiting for even the smallest reaction. When it doesn’t come, he lets out another sigh, long and heavy with understanding.

“Alright...” he says softly, standing from the bed. “Call me if you need anything. I’ll be downstairs, okay?” His voice is calm, reassuring, as if he’s trying to lend Jungkook some of his own strength.

With that, Yoongi turns and walks towards the door, leaving the younger man alone once again. The sound of the door closing echoes faintly, a quiet reminder that the world hasn’t stopped, even if it feels like Jungkook’s has.

//

“He still hasn’t responded?” Taehyung’s voice is tinged with worry. You don’t reply, your gaze fixed on the open window of your bedroom, the soft rustle of curtains doing little to calm the storm inside you.

Miyeon sits beside you, her arm wrapped gently around your shoulders, her thumb tracing slow, soothing circles. She doesn’t say anything... she knows words won’t reach you right now.

Taehyung, Namjoon, and Seokjin stand nearby, their expressions heavy with concern. Seeing you like this... so pale, so fragile, so utterly shattered, breaks their hearts. It’s been three whole days since everything fell apart.

Three days since the party. Three days since you've seen Jungkook. Since your world crumbled.

According to the initial plan, you and Jungkook were supposed to leave Daegu yesterday to board your flight back to New York. However, the unforeseen turn of events derailed everything.

These past three days, you’ve visited Yoongi’s house every day, hoping… praying… to see Jungkook, to catch even a fleeting glimpse of him. But each time, all you’re met with is Yoongi’s somber shake of the head, a silent confirmation that Jungkook doesn’t want to see you.

Your chest aches with a pain so profound it feels etched into the very fabric of your being. You miss him so fucking much but what haunts you the most is the uncertainty. Where does this leave the two of you? Does he want to end things? Does he want to break up?

The mere thought of never seeing him again feels like an unhealing wound, a chasm that devours every sliver of hope. It’s unbearable... the kind of pain that steals your breath and leaves you hollow, trembling, and utterly lost.

Suddenly, you rise from the bed, startling the others.

“Y/n?” Seokjin’s voice is hurried as they all follow your purposeful strides towards the door. “Where are you going?”

You don’t answer. You don’t even glance back. Your steps quicken as you walk past the hallway and descend the grand staircase, the sound of your footsteps echoing in the tense silence of the house. Your eyes dart around until they find her.

Your mother.

She’s seated by the pool in the garden, sipping tea and reading a book as if nothing has happened. As if she hasn’t ripped your life apart with her calculated cruelty.

Something inside you snaps.

You shove the glass door open with a force that makes it clatter, storming out onto the lawn. Your mother looks up, startled by your sudden presence. She carefully sets her teacup down on the table beside her, a composed expression masking the chaos she’s caused.

“Y/n darling—”

“You’re horrible.” you blurt out, cutting her off. Your voice trembles, not with weakness, but with the sheer force of emotions clawing their way to the surface. Her calm demeanor falters, just slightly. “Y/n—”

“Did you really have to go that far?” you demand, your voice rising with each word. “Really, Mama? A background check? Was that necessary?”

The others... Taehyung, Miyeon, Namjoon, and Seokjin exchange uneasy glances. They stand a few steps behind, unsure if they should intervene, but they know better than to stop you now.

“Do you honestly think digging into his past, dredging up something so personal, and throwing it in his face was the answer?” you continue, your voice shaking with anger and heartbreak.

“Did you think that humiliating him, tearing him down in front of me, would make me change my mind? If you did, you’re wrong, Mama. So, so wrong.”

Your mother opens her mouth, but the fury in your eyes silences her.

“I don’t care about his past!” you cry, your voice breaking. “I don’t care about what his mother did or about your stupid obsession with our reputation. I don’t care if you think he’s a ‘threat’ to our image. None of that matters to me! All I care about is him. I love him, Mama. Don't you understand that? I love him more than anything, and I can’t—” Your voice cracks, tears streaming down your face now.

“I can’t imagine a life without him. And you’ve made him feel like he’s nothing. Like he’s not worthy of me. How could you? How could you be so cruel?”

Your mother’s calm facade begins to crumble under the weight of your words, but you don’t stop.

“You’ve destroyed the one thing that made me happy, the one person who truly matters to me. And for what? Your pride? Your precious image?” You shake your head, your voice now quieter but no less intense.

“You didn’t just hurt him, Mama. You hurt me. And I don’t think I can ever forgive you for that.” Your words hang in the air, heavy and final, as you stand there, chest heaving, tears streaming freely down your face.

Your mother looks at you, her expression frozen, as though struck too deeply to formulate a response. She simply stares, her composure faltering under the weight of your outburst.

Behind you, the others remain silent, their own hearts aching at the rawness of your pain. No one moves, no one speaks. They simply bear witness to the moment you finally let it all out... the moment your anguish and love refused to be silenced any longer.

//

Yoongi peeks his head around the door, his gaze landing on Jungkook, who is lying in the same position as always... curled on his side, back facing the door.

It’s been a week now, and nothing has changed. Jungkook remains silent, unresponsive, and withdrawn. At this point, Yoongi is just relieved he’s started eating again, even if it’s only small amounts.

"Hey, Kook..." Yoongi calls out softly, his tone hesitant, careful. He watches as Jungkook’s shoulders tense ever so slightly, a subtle acknowledgment that he’s heard his voice.

But still, Jungkook doesn’t move. His eyes remain fixed on the curtains ahead, their edges glowing faintly in the daylight. He feels like he’s become one with the bed, as though his body has fused with the mattress, drained of all energy, all will to do anything.

Every day, Yoongi tells him you’ve come by to see him, and every day Jungkook reacts the same way... he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak, doesn’t give in. It’s not that he doesn’t want to see you... he does. God, he does.

But the thought of facing you feels like scaling a mountain he’s not ready to climb. The humiliation, the pain, the anger... none of it has faded. He knows it wasn’t your fault, knows you didn’t know what was coming, but even so, the wounds are still too raw.

He knows he’s hurting you by shutting you out. He knows this isn’t the right way to handle things, that his silence is only amplifying the ache for both of you.

Yet he feels paralyzed, trapped in this endless loop of shame and sadness. He’s been telling himself he just needs more time, but deep down, he wonders if any amount of time will be enough to make him feel whole again.

By now, he should’ve been back in New York. His flight was almost a week ago. His work is piling up, responsibilities waiting, but none of it seems to matter.

His body feels heavy, his mind clouded with everything that’s gone wrong. Moving, talking, doing anything... it all feels impossible. The future feels distant, unreachable, while the present keeps pulling him under.

“Someone’s here to see you.” Yoongi says, breaking the silence.

Jungkook sighs deeply, his shoulders slumping further. He doesn’t need to guess who it is. He already knows. And just like every other day this past week, he mutters the same words. “I don’t want to see her.”

“It’s not her.” Yoongi says quickly. Jungkook freezes at that, the words catching him off guard. There’s a brief pause before he slowly turns his head, curiosity breaking through his haze. He shifts slightly on the bed, looking at Yoongi standing by the door.

Yoongi steps aside and pushes the door open wider. Jungkook’s breath catches when he sees who steps into the room. His eyes widen, and he’s off the bed in an instant, his movements uncharacteristically quick.

“Ma!” he exclaims, his voice trembling, filled with surprise and a touch of desperation.

His mother stands there with a soft, understanding smile, her presence warm and familiar, like a balm for his aching soul.

But Jungkook doesn’t smile back. He doesn’t speak again. He simply rushes towards her, crossing the room in a heartbeat, and throws his arms around her.

“Ma.” he whispers again, softer this time, his voice breaking. His arms tighten around her as he buries his face in her shoulder, his eyes squeezed shut. She holds him just as tightly, her hand gently stroking the back of his head.

//

"Here, eat this." Jungkook’s mother says gently, holding a plate of food as she sits on the bed, facing him. Her voice is soft but firm, carrying a motherly authority that Jungkook doesn’t dare defy. She picks up a spoonful of rice, bringing it to his lips.

"How can you go on like this, Kook? Not eating, not taking care of yourself..." She shakes her head softly, a small sigh escaping her.

Jungkook opens his mouth obediently, letting her feed him. He chews mechanically, his gaze fixed on her face. Her expression is calm, unchanging, the same serene smile he’s known all his life.

Her eyes seem to study him with quiet concern, yet there’s an unshakable strength behind them. It’s comforting in a way that almost makes his chest ache more.

It’s been twenty minutes since she walked into his room. Twenty minutes since he buried himself in her arms, his emotions spilling over for the first time in days.

Yet, he hasn’t uttered a word about the storm brewing in his heart. He doesn’t know how she got here, doesn’t know why she’s here. Did Yoongi call her? Does she know what happened? More importantly, does she know what he’s learned about her... about their past?

His thoughts swirl in a relentless loop. He keeps telling himself it can’t be true, that it doesn’t make sense. But the questions claw at him, relentless, demanding answers.

His mother lifts another spoonful to his mouth, and he opens instinctively. He chews slowly, his mind racing as he watches her. She seems... the same. The same gentle demeanor, the same patient smile.

Finally, after a few minutes of silence, Jungkook speaks, his voice hesitant and shaky. “Ma...”

She hums softly at his voice, acknowledging him but continuing to feed him. He swallows thickly, his throat tight. “I... I need to ask you something...” he says. The words feel heavy, like they’re scraping their way out of his chest. “Y/n’s mother... she told me a few things.”

Her hand pauses for a fraction of a second, the spoon hovering in the air, a few inches away from his mouth. But her expression doesn’t falter. She places the spoon back on the plate and looks at him directly, her calm gaze unwavering. “I know.” she says simply.

Jungkook’s heart skips a beat. Of course she knows. She always knows. But it doesn’t make it any easier to hear. He searches her face for a hint of denial, some sign that it’s not what he fears. “If... If you’re wondering if any of it is true...” her voice trails off, and she looks at him with an unspoken apology in her eyes.

His breath catches. He can feel the words coming before she even says them, but he’s still not ready. “They’re all true, Kook.” she says softly, her tone gentle.

Jungkook stares at his mother with wide eyes, the weight of her confession pressing down on him like a heavy storm cloud. His thoughts are a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief, and the depth of her words only leaves him more perplexed.

But before he can even form a coherent question, she continues, her tone soft but firm, as if determined to finally unburden herself after all these years.

“When we were in Busan....” she begins, her gaze drifting towards the window where sunlight filters through the newly drawn curtains, illuminating the room with a brightness Jungkook hadn’t seen in days.

“It was hard, Kook. Being a single mother… it wasn’t easy. People weren’t exactly kind, and landing a decent job was a struggle. But somehow, I managed to secure a position at a respectable company. It felt like a turning point.”

Jungkook listens intently, noticing how her voice wavers slightly. “Life became a little easier after that.” she continues.

“I could give you a proper allowance. I was able to afford your photography courses in high school. I even started saving money... something I never thought I’d be able to do. For the first time, I thought life was finally falling into place.”

She pauses, her lips curling into a bittersweet smile. “And maybe, in hindsight, I got a little greedy. I started thinking... now that we were stable, maybe it was time for me to think about myself for once. To find love again.”

Jungkook’s brow furrows slightly, confusion flickering across his features. She notices but presses on, her voice tinged with a mix of nostalgia and regret. “My manager at the time… he was a kind man. At least, I thought he was. I don’t know if he pitied me or if his feelings were genuine, but... one thing led to another, and we fell in love.”

She pauses, exhaling softly. “For a while, everything was perfect. You were thriving in school, my bank account wasn’t empty anymore, and for the first time in years, I felt like a woman again... like someone who was cared for. I even thought about introducing him to you, about telling you that I’d found someone who made me happy.”

Her expression darkens slightly, the corners of her lips twitching downward. “But all of that changed one night. I was working late, staying overtime to finish a project. I stepped out to the coffee room for a quick break, and on my way back, I heard noises coming from one of the conference rooms. It sounded... strange... like someone was yelling.”

Jungkook feels his chest tighten, the anticipation growing as his mother’s voice lowers, tinged with unease. “I got curious and peeked in. What I saw... I still... I still wish I hadn’t. My manager... the man I thought I wanted to build a future with... was berating an employee." she pauses, letting out a soft breath.

"But it wasn’t just yelling. It was violent. He was shoving the employee, slamming papers onto the desk, threatening them. At first, I thought it was a one-off, maybe a moment of stress. But the more I watched, the uglier it got. He was kicking their knees, smacking their face, saying vile things like they were less than human.”

Jungkook’s jaw clenches, his fists tightening at his sides. “Did you... did you saying anything back then?” he asks quietly.

“I should've... but I didn't because honestly, I wasn’t sure what I’d seen... ” she replies, her voice steady but heavy with the weight of the memory. “But something inside me told me it wasn’t an isolated incident. So I started paying attention. Watching him. Watching others in the company. And, Kook... it wasn’t just him.”

Her gaze drops to her hands, now gripping the edge of the plate in her lap. “It was everywhere around the company. Managers and higher-ups abusing their authority, taking advantage of their employees. Screaming at them, humiliating them, even threatening to ruin their careers. And worse... when I started digging deeper, I found financial misconduct, embezzlement, and exploitation.”

Jungkook feels the air grow thick with the gravity of her words. “I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. So, I started collecting evidence... voice recordings, videos, emails. Anything I could use to expose them. And eventually... I did.”

She smiles faintly, but it’s laced with bitterness. “I went to the authorities anonymously and leaked everything. At first, it seemed like justice might prevail. The company took a massive hit, and several higher-ups were investigated. But it didn’t end there.”

“What... what happened?” Jungkook whispers, his voice trembling.

“The company was owned by a powerful, influential family and the scandal bothered them... a lot.” she explains, her tone growing quieter and Jungkook immediately knows who she's referring to.

“It didn’t take the company long to figure out who had leaked the information. And when they did... everything came back to me. The media had a field day. My name was dragged through the mud. People called me unprofessional, accused me of sleeping with my manager to gain favors. They twisted everything to make me look like the villain.”

Her voice cracks slightly, but she takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “I didn’t care about my reputation, Kook. But I cared about you. I was terrified that you’d be dragged into it, that kids at your school would bully you, that your life would change because of my actions. And I couldn’t let that happen. So, with what little savings I had left, I made the decision to leave. To move far away, to a place where I could give you a better future. It was hasty, yes, but looking back... I don’t regret it... at all. I’d do it again to protect you.”

Jungkook’s throat tightens, his chest aching as he watches the quiet strength in his mother’s face. Her sacrifices, her pain... it all begins to make sense, to sink in, piece by piece. “Ma... I didn’t know...” he murmurs, his voice breaking.

“I never wanted you to.” she replies, reaching out to brush a strand of hair from his face. “All I ever wanted was for you to have a life free from the burdens I carried. And if I had to do it all over again, Kook, I wouldn’t hesitate.”

Jungkook feels his vision blur with tears, and before he can stop himself, he leans forward, pulling his mother into a tight hug. His arms tremble as they wrap around her, and he buries his face into her shoulder, letting out the sobs he'd been holding back.

"I'm... I'm so sorry, Mom." he cries, his voice cracking under the weight of his emotions. His mother strokes his back gently, her touch soothing even as her own tears threaten to spill. "Oh, sweetheart, don’t be sorry." she chuckles, her voice soft yet steady. "You don’t need to apologize for anything."

A few quiet seconds pass. "You know... I really thought she was the one." Jungkook whispers. "But it... it just got too much. I tried so hard to be strong... no matter how much her mother tried to walk all over me." He pulls his mother closer, his grip tightening as his emotions spill over.

"I love her so much, Ma." he cries, burying his face against her shoulder. "But now... I just... I just want to go home." His voice drops to a quiet murmur.

His mother says nothing, holding him still, her presence grounding him as he clings to the one person who has always been there.

They stay like that, wrapped in an embrace that feels timeless. Jungkook feels like a child again, sheltered in the safety of his mother’s arms, a refuge against the storm raging in his heart. The room falls silent except for the soft hum of their breaths, the world outside momentarily forgotten.

Eventually, his mother shifts, gently pulling back just enough to meet his eyes. She cups his face in her hands, her thumbs brushing away the tears that streak his cheeks. Her lips curve into a soft, loving smile, though her eyes glisten.

"I may not have had much luck in love..." she begins, her tone tender. "But you, Kook… you don’t have to carry that fear. You’re not me."

Jungkook blinks at her, his sniffles the only sound breaking the stillness as she continues. "I know this is a lot to take in. And I know things have unfolded in ways neither of us ever wanted." she says.

"But you’re stronger than you think. And you deserve to let yourself love, even if it feels terrifying." She pauses, letting her words settle. Then, after a moment, she smiles again, her voice soft but purposeful.

"You know… Y/n was the one who called me and brought me here." she reveals. Jungkook’s brows knit in surprise, but he stays silent, his eyes searching hers. "That girl… she cares about you so much, Jungkook. More than I think you even realize."

Her smile falters slightly, replaced by a solemn look. "I know it’s hard." she says. "Facing her, facing everything after what’s happened... it’s not easy. And knowing the challenges her family brings into the picture… it must feel overwhelming."

Jungkook lowers his gaze, his hands curling into fists in his lap. His mother reaches out, gently covering one of his hands with her own, her touch warm and reassuring. "But shutting her out, ignoring her... that will only hurt her." she says. "And it’ll hurt you even more."

Her words feel like a lifeline, cutting through the fog clouding his mind. He looks up at her, his heart aching at the sincerity in her expression. There’s no judgment in her eyes... only love, hope, and unwavering belief in him.

"You don’t have to worry about me anymore." she continues, her voice soft but firm. "I’ll be okay, Kook. I’ve made my peace with the past."

She leans forward and presses a soft kiss to his forehead, lingering for a moment before pulling back. "So do what your heart tells you." she whispers, her voice filled with gentle conviction.

"If you still want to go back, I’ll understand. But I still think you should go and talk to her, before we go."

Jungkook closes his eyes, letting her words sink in, and for the first time in days, he feels the faintest flicker of clarity, a spark of hope amid the chaos.

//

The cool evening breeze brushes past your hair as you gaze down at the glimmering water, the rippling reflections of streetlights dancing on the surface of the tranquil sincheon river. The world around you feels quiet, yet your chest churns with restlessness.

Jungkook had finally reached out. He had called. And you had begged him to meet you. You needed to see him because frankly, you were practically unraveling without him.

Now, here you are, waiting by the walking trail that winds along the river. A soft sigh escapes your lips as you lift your gaze up to the sky. The sun has long set, but its remnants linger, smearing the horizon with hues of violet and amber, like a bruise spreading across the heavens.

You're nervous, scared even. You don’t know what you’re going to say or what he might have to tell you. You just hope that his mother, whom you had called in desperation, was able to ease some of the burden you knew he was carrying.

Your mind is a chaotic swirl of emotions, tangled in fear and anticipation but the sound of approaching footsteps halts the train of your thoughts. You whip around, your heart leaping to your throat. And there he is. Your boyfriend.

His presence seems to anchor you and unmoor you at once. Your breath catches as you take in his appearance... he looks drained, exhausted. His eyes are shadowed by evident dark circles, and his shoulders droop with a weariness that tugs painfully at your chest.

All you want to do is pull him close, to hold him, to protect him. Without hesitation, you do just that.

"Baby... oh my god." you breathe out, your voice trembling as you jog up to him. Wrapping your arms around his frame, you cling to him tightly, pressing your face against his chest. His familiar scent, warm and grounding, fills your senses. "I missed you." you whisper.

His arms move just as quickly, circling your waist with the same desperate fervor, holding you as though letting go might shatter him. "I missed you too." he murmurs, his voice low and rough.

The warmth of his breath grazes the curve of your neck, and in that moment, something inside you unravels... a knot of fear and longing dissolves into the solace of his embrace.

The world around you melts away, leaving only the sound of the river lapping gently and the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

The two of you stay entwined in that embrace and minutes stretch into something timeless, and slowly, reluctantly, you open your eyes and carefully pull away. Your gaze meets his, and the weight of your emotions crashes over you like a tidal wave. Tears spring to your eyes, unbidden.

“Kook... I’m sorry.” you begin, your voice trembling as your lip quivers. “I’m sorry for everything. I don’t know what my mom was thinking—” Your words catch, a sob escaping your chest, breaking through the dam you’ve tried to hold steady.

“Hey...” Jungkook breathes out gently, his hands coming up to cradle your face. His thumbs brush away your tears, though they continue rolling down your cheek. “It’s okay.” he whispers, his voice steady yet tender, a soothing balm to your frayed nerves.

But you shake your head, overwhelmed. “I’m sorry for everything, Kook. I really am.” you choke out, your voice cracking under the weight of your regret.

“It’s not your fault.” he murmurs, his dark eyes searching yours, shimmering with his own restrained emotions. “Shhh...” he hushes you, pulling you close again.

His embrace is solid, a haven, and you wonder how someone can carry so much grace. Even now, when he should be the one comforted, he holds you together.

The tears spill freely as you bury yourself in his arms, your body trembling against his. Jungkook’s hands move gently along your back, his touch rhythmic and calming. “This past week... it’s been so hard, Kook. I missed you so much.” you manage between sobs, your voice cracking.

Jungkook feels his heart splintering, guilt threading its way through him. He tightens his hold on you, his own breath hitching as he battles the storm inside. He knows he hurt you by shutting you out, but at the time, it felt like the only way he could cope. He was drowning too.

He pulls back slightly, just enough to see your face. His hand stays warm against your damp cheek, his thumb gliding across the soft curve of your cheekbone.

When your teary eyes lock with his, something magnetic draws you closer. You tilt your head upward, closing your eyes, and press your lips to his in a kiss that feels like both an apology and a plea.

Jungkook responds instantly, his lips meeting yours with an intensity that leaves no room for doubt. His hands anchor you in place, one cradling your jaw while the other settles at your waist.

The kiss deepens, raw and full of unspoken emotions, and you can feel in the way his lips move against yours just how much he’s missed you, too.

When he finally pulls back, breathless, his chest rises and falls rapidly. “I’m sorry I shut you out...” he exhales.

You shake your head quickly. “No, Kook. You had every reason to. What my mom did... it was unforgivable. She had no right to come at you like that... and... and disrespect you like that.”

Stepping back slightly, you look up at him, your hands still resting lightly on his chest. “I had no idea she’d been scheming all of this behind my back. When I brought you here, I just... I wanted to introduce you to my family because you’re so important to me. You’re everything to me.” Your voice softens, but your words are laced with an ache that refuses to go away.

“I should’ve seen it coming, though. The first time she was rude to you in the kitchen, I should’ve taken the hint. I should’ve warned her to stay out of this.”

He exhales deeply, the sound heavy with a mix of resignation and lingering pain. Slowly, he moves past you as he edges closer to the riverbank.

"I knew she never liked me..." he starts, his voice low, carrying the weight of a truth he’s held in for too long. "It was so obvious. She didn’t even try to hide it." A humorless chuckle escapes his lips, but it’s laced with pain, not mirth.

You follow him quietly, closing the distance, until you’re standing right next to him. The cold bites at your cheeks, but the ache in his voice hurts even more.

Together, you gaze at the dark river ahead, the water shimmering faintly under the moonlight and the surrounding streetlights.

"A part of me understood her..." he continues, turning his head slightly towards you. His eyes, glistening but guarded, meet yours for a fleeting moment before he looks away. "She had every right to be worried. I mean… I’m dating her daughter. Of course, she’d be protective."

You hold his gaze briefly but remain silent, sensing he needs to say more.

"Maybe she doubted my intentions..." he admits, his tone soft but raw, like he’s peeling back layers of himself for you. "Maybe she thought I could never be good enough for you." His shoulders rise in a small shrug, his expression distant.

"All of that… it’s valid. I could accept it, you know? I would’ve tried. Tried to prove myself to her, even if it felt impossible."

He stops, his jaw tightening as he stares at the water. The moonlight catches on his profile, illuminating the subtle tremor in his lips as he fights to hold himself back from brutally cracking open.

"But when she brought up my mother..." His voice wavers, and he turns his face away, his adam’s apple bobbing as he swallows hard. "She said she didn’t want to be linked to a family like mine. And that…" He exhales sharply, his shoulders slumping under the weight of the memory. "That broke me."

You feel your chest tighten at his words, your heart aching for the pain he’s trying so hard to contain. He doesn’t need to explain further because you already understand what he's trying to say.

"Kook..." you call out softly, inching closer and placing a gentle hand on his arm. "She was so so wrong... so wrong. And it wasn’t fair to you at all."

He turns his head slightly, his gaze flickering to yours, the sadness in his eyes now tinged with something else... perhaps relief at being seen, or maybe the fact that he can finally open up.

"And I’m done." you say, your voice firmer now, though it still trembles at the edges. "I’m done making excuses for her. For her actions, for the way she treated you, for the way she handled things."

You reach out with your other hand, cupping his jaw and guiding his face towards you. His eyes, meet yours fully now. "Kook..." you whisper, your breath hitching as his name falls from your lips.

"Your past, what your mom did, my reputation… none of that matters to me. It never has, and it never will." Your thumb gently grazes his cheek, and you see the tension in his jaw loosen, ever so slightly. "All that matters to me is you."

His lips part as if to respond, but the words seem to fail him. You press on, your voice shaking with sincerity.

"You matter so much to me..." you confess, your heart pounding as you take another step closer, until there’s no space left between you. "And I’m ready to leave all of this behind... I'm ready to walk out of everything if it means I can be with you. None... of this matters without you."

He looks down at you, his brows furrowing as he tries to process the enormity of your words. His chest rises and falls heavily under your touch, his breath warm against the cool night air.

"Let’s start over." you say, your voice soft but resolute. "Let’s start a new life together in New York... our home. That’s where we belong, Kook. That’s where I belong. With you."

Your words hang in the air, suspended between the two of you, and you can feel the shift in him... his walls crumbling under the weight of what you're saying.

"Let's elope, Kook."

<- part 6

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[jollyinmadness]

Of Canopies and Twines: Chapter 1, Solas | Azriel x OFC

Pairing: Azriel x Original Female Character

Word Count: 8.3k

Warnings: Minor Azriel x Elain. References to sexual thoughts. Very vague references to a genocide. Cursing.

Summary:

When an unknown curse starts spreading through the Night Court's lands, the Inner Circle is forced to seek help in the wisdom of Day's vast libraries. Among the dusty tomes, they are met with a mysterious female who wields magic that may yet be the key to their problem.

Kira, one of the few surviving Purifiers, will have to leave her reclusiveness on the shores of the Continent and learn what her ancestor's vow really means.

Azriel will be forced to reconcile his follies, step out from his shadows and push against his shortcoming with nothing but the scarred skin of his hands.

After years of lucky breaks, will the Inner Circle succeed one last time? Or will their fate rest in the hands of an outsider who has more to lose than gain in helping them?

Then again, the Cauldron is forever being stirred by the Mother and no one escapes the yarn on the embroidery of their lives.

Azriel’s hands were hidden under his armpits as he walked the empty streets of Velaris. The faelights in the Palace of Thread and Jewels still shone brightly, though many of the shops had their doors shut and signs turned to say ‘closed.’ 

He had just left a seamstress’s shop and regretted not accepting a jacket for the suit Rhysand ordered on his behalf. Despite having many in his closet, Rhysand noted that he only owned outdated ones and needed to, quote, freshen up. After a few adjustments, the seamstress had ushered him into the cold street with a smile, saying she was celebrating tonight and needed to get ready too. 

During the longest night of the year, even this part of the town closed down, its habitants retiring to dining rooms with their families. As Azriel passed by houses that hadn’t closed their blinds, he dared to peek in if even for the smallest moment. More often than not, he saw children running around a table while the adults prepared utensils and plates, scolding the little ones for not being careful enough. It caused the corners of his mouth to lift, seeing these people so free of worry that they didn’t even care to draw their curtains. 

His feet moved on their own accord, walking the familiar paths. Something unsettled and grew restless inside his bones as he thought of the estate he was heading to. This year, his own family was meeting in the River House to celebrate the Winter Solstice and the attendance was bound to be plentiful. 

He had already helped Feyre decorate, while Rhysand looked after little Nyx. This year would mark his first Solstice and everyone was eager to make it the most memorable one. Nyx put up the first decoration on the tree but when he was handed a garland from paper, he had torn it in half which elicited a laugh from Azriel and a gentle scolding from both his parents.

Considering he was Rhysand’s son, he was surely going to be a handful once he learned how to talk back and run away.

During it all, Azriel had noted Cassian’s lack of presence, though his brother was most likely hunting down some last-minute gifts before the shops closed for the evening. And last he heard, his mate was up in the House of Wind, preparing with Emerie and Gwyn. Emerie had been spending the last few days with her and Azriel could tell the Illyrian female felt out of place here even after months of daily training. The priestess, on the other hand, had promised Nesta she would spend the dinner with her, before returning to the Library for the evening service. 

Gwyn had shown so much growth since her arrival to Velaris and after the Rite, after she cut the ribbon, Azriel noted how she looked to the sky with a renowned longing. Some of the fear and reluctance had fallen off and in its place had grown courage and curiosity. Perhaps her trip to the River House was a stepping stone.

His mind shifted to the rest that were bound to be present and Azriel wondered what Elain was up to. Whether she was trying on dresses and picking out the ones Azriel would love to see on the ground of his private quarters. 

He hadn’t seen her since a few days ago when he had walked past the kitchen in the River House and beared witness to her gentle chuckles. Her hands were covered in flour and his two trusted shadow wraiths talked in hushed voices to her. Not even his shadows were quick enough to catch onto what was being said because when the three had noticed him, their words died down just like their laughter. 

Cerridwen and Nuala had sketched a quick bow to Azriel, much to his dismay but Elain only stared at him with those wide, doe-like eyes. It had made the air in the kitchen warmer and as she offered him a soft smile. He had disappeared into the shadows after nodding at her. Nodding. 

What a fool he was, pining after a female who was mated to another male, let alone allowing himself such a visceral reaction to simple things like smiles. Foolish, indeed. 

Feyre had mentioned in passing that Lucien was bound to make an appearance during the night. He didn’t let himself feel insulted. The voice inside his head was telling him that Feyre could see right through him and thought him fragile. He didn’t need to be notified of guests, especially Lucien.

Azriel sighed, blowing a white cloud into the biting air and hoped Rhysand had enough chairs for everyone. 

A shiver ran through him when, at last, the front gate to the River House appeared at the far end of the street. He quickened his pace, hands pushing the gate open. His dress shoes clicked against the stone walkway leading to the front door and before he reached for the knob, he pulled at his suit. His scarred hand ran through his hair, fixing and making sure he looked presentable before tackling the entirety of the Inner Circle. 

The shadows curled around his ear, telling him that everyone was already somewhere in the house except for Amren and Varian, who were Mother-knew where and doing Mother-knew what. Azriel didn’t care enough to know. 

With one last inhale, he braced himself for an eventful evening and opened the door. He followed the sound of chatter and bottles clinging to the decorated family room where everyone was gathered. 

The first person to notice his entrance was Cassian. “Az, brother, there you are!”

He came up to Azriel, stuffing a crystal glass full of aged rum into his hand and wrapping a shoulder around him. Cassian was already inebriated, Azriel could tell as their wings brushed on accident. Nesta sent subtle stares their way from the corner of the room while nursing a cup of grape juice and making sure he was still standing upright. She made some comment to the two Valkyries near her, making them giggle while watching.

Cassian and Nesta were still considered to be newly mated and Azriel avoided the House of Wind with fervor. Especially after Feyre and Rhysand had given it to them as a mating gift. He had been planning on vacating his room and moving to the Townhouse way before that but he dreaded packing all of the trinkets decorating his shelves. He would have missed the silence too hadn’t it been replaced by sounds of rabid fucking. Even the dining table wasn’t safe from their ministrations and a small part of Azriel grew jealous at it.

“You should stop with the drinks if you plan on participating tomorrow,” muttered Azriel, still cheering his glass with Cassian’s.

Cassian laughed, the sound joyous and open. “I will end your winning streak this year, spymaster.”

“No, I think it will mark my two hundredth win,” Azriel remarks absentmindedly, elbow shoving itself into Cassian’s ribs. Cassian didn’t take to that lightly and while balancing his almost empty glass, he put Azriel into a chokehold with a boom of laughter. He ruffled his hair while promising utter devastation come tomorrow morning. 

Cassian’s technique wasn’t sloppy despite being drunk but it took one smooth move for Azriel to free himself and knock back the contents of his glass.

“I would save the energy, Cass,” he told him, unfastening the button on his jacket.

Cassian grinned. “Or I can beat you now and eliminate the competition.” 

Before they could begin to play-wrestle, Feyre cleared her throat, staring them down. “No fighting in front of Nyx,” she reminded them. “Besides, Az just arrived and you’re already wrinkling his suit! Get off of him, Cassian.”

“A suit I paid good money for,” whispered Rhys from beside his mate, his ankle resting atop his knee. The tips of Azriel’s ears went red and once he pushed Cassian off, he heard a soft, female chuckle behind him. 

Without a thought, he turned his head, his shadows scattering at the sight in the doorway. Words escaped him like they always did in Elain’s presence and instead, he stared down at her. 

Her hair was done half-up half-down, decorated with little white flowers she was sure were grown by her own gentle hands. Baby breaths, he recalled her saying. As his face traveled from those brown eyes looking at him with mirth, his breath caught somewhere on its way from his lungs and to his mouth. A light pink dress made of the softest fabric adorned her curves, pooling and shimmering around her feet like a waterfall. The color and the design reminded him of that one time he stayed in the Day Court. Sun had just risen and painted the entire sky a brilliant pink and small puffy white clouds dusted the horizon.

At once, he willed his shadows to enshroud him again and stepped from the doorway, his eyes never leaving hers. His only thought was on that necklace in his breast pocket, still undecided on whether he should give it to her or not. Seeing her, he couldn’t help but notice that the little rose pendant would go perfectly with the dress. There and then, his mind was made. He would put the petite box on the pile later once everyone had gone to sleep. 

Somebody behind her cleared their throat and it was the only reason Azriel noticed the fire-haired male. 

Lucien’s stare softened considerably as the golden eye shifted from Azriel the moment their eyes met. The emissary chose to ignore him, instead put a gentle hand on Elain’s upper back that Azriel traced with his eyes. As they crossed over the threshold, it was all he could do once the scent of their unaccepted mating bond filled the room. 

Sometimes, Azriel thought to himself, the Mother had a cruel sense of humor. 

Azriel leaned against the wall, letting the murmur of his shadows take the attention from Elain and Lucien. He listened, ignoring questioning stares from Rhysand and focusing on the sauntering female making her way to the family room. 

He turned his head just in time to be met with Mor’s profile appearing in the doorway. She was holding a bottle of wine and smiling, love filling her eyes as they went over everyone present. The familiar faces and the new. Azriel noticed how she took a while to look at the Illyrian female next to Nesta and he noticed Emerie staring right back. He bit back the small smirk fighting to be shown. Though once she had her fill, the last person whom she graced with her glance was Azriel. 

They shared a knowing look and at last, it was void of any tension or anxiety. “Hey, Az,” she said, a gentle smile on her lips. 

He dipped his chin. “Mor.”

He saw a flurry of brown hair before a muffled “Mor!” was exclaimed into the female’s chest. Mor recoiled due to the impact and suddenly, Feyre was hugging the Morrigan, not caring for propriety in front of guests. 

Rhysand’s cousin had been spending more time in Vallahan than in the Night Court, forging alliances and still not succeeding in convincing the Queen to sign the peace treaty. She tried to visit as much as she could and sent many letters through Azriel’s spies concerning the foreign kingdom. He worried for her, hearing just how proud the people in Vallahan were and the schemes the court was prone to. 

“Feyre, please, don’t crush me before I can make it through the doorway.”

“I’m so glad you could make it for the dinner,” she murmurs into her chest before pulling away and taking in the red gown Mor had put on. It earned a hum of approval from her High Lady and Mor wiggled her eyebrows, whispering something into Feyre’s ear and making her laugh. 

Azriel stepped away, moving further inside the room though the wall was his preferred place. Feyre had handed off Nyx to Elain, who was rocking the baby on her hip while conversing with the Valkyries. Gwyn was wearing her usual priestess robes and cooed at the small Illyrian. The middle Archeron sister was smiling unabashedly, sending something warm trickling down Azriel’s chest. 

“Brother,” Rhysand greeted, breaking him out of the reverie and lifting a bottle to fill his glass. With a cocked brow, Rhysand poured the liquor and walked away from Azriel without another word, leaving the shadowsinger hanging in the air.

Rhysand stopped in front of his mate, kissing her temple without sparing Azriel another second of his attention after filling his glass. It left an unsure feeling behind but he brushed it off, convincing himself to have misread the slippage of his brother’s mask. 

— ✾ —

It was only after an hour filled with Mor’s complaining about being hungry and Cassian’s grunts of approval that Varian and Amren arrived. Azriel knew the moment Rhysand’s second had walked through the front door of the River House and his shadows notified him that Amren’s lipstick was smudged, and Varian was rubbing a handkerchief along his face.

It made Azriel swear up the Cauldron as he began rethinking his decision to come to this particular family dinner. It wasn’t often that he chose to, rather opting for eating by his lonesome in the House of Wind. The smell of people’s scents mixed in the aftermath of sex was something akin to strangulation and Azriel liked to enjoy his meals without the sensation.

Rhysand turned away from Amren and Varian, clasping his hands together and announcing, “It’s time we feast!”

Cassian whooped alongside of Mor, and they were the first ones on Rhysand’s heels. At the left-hand side of the family room were double doors, too, decorated with garlands and ribbons. Rhysand pushed down on each handle, leading the grand entrance to a refurbished dining room. 

Azriel’s shadows skittered around him as they watched everyone enter. In hushed voices, they began counting those walking through the threshold and Azriel fought the urge to roll his eyes. 

As much as everyone assumed he had complete control over his little shadows, they were sentient creatures fascinated by the simplest things. It wasn’t a coincidence that shadowsingers were oftentimes spies, because while the shadows liked talking, they adored observing and reporting everything to their master whose job was to pick out the important information. 

And so, Azriel had to ignore his shadows gushing about a new table that could now fit not ten people but twelve! Once they were sure their master knew of the fact his shadows returned to counting. 

There’s four, five, six. Seven. Eight, nine, ten and eleven, and twelve. 

Amren had taken the head of the table, leading Varian to sit next to her with their intertwined hands.

Mor chose to be the mediator between Lucien and Elain and ignored all the sideways glances the emissary sent her way as she laid a hand on the back of the chair. The little smile she sent Elain did not escape Azriel either. While everyone had chosen their seats, Azriel entered last, closing the door behind him with his back to the group. 

There’s the thirteenth. Such a lucky number. 

In all his years spent in Velaris, Azriel failed to remember a time when a dining room was this full. The new table added two extra seats and dwarfed the room in comparison to how it used to be. Everyone made themselves comfortable, shucking off jackets and laying them across the backs of their chairs. 

Azriel hadn’t had the chance to pick where he wanted to sit and as he turned to the room, he had come to realize with an odd mix of relief and disdain that his seat was between Nesta and Varian. Pick of the litter, then. 

The seats have been specially altered to accommodate winged individuals and while Azriel settled into his chair, he was at least grateful that his closest companions lacked any membranous monstrosities protruding from their backs. Were he sat next to inebriated Cassian, he’d have to focus his attention there and leave his shadows with filling up the blanks. 

As food started appearing one plate after another, Azriel took in where the rest of the people were sat. He was facing Feyre and Rhysand, Nyx placed into a tiny chair between theirs. Cassian was occupying the other head of the table and already spoke to Elain in hushed tones to the best of his abilities. To the General’s other side was Gwyn, then Emerie and Nesta. One of his newer shadows notified him that Emerie couldn’t take her eyes from Rhysand’s cousin and that she blushed when their eyes met. 

A table of this size offered a lot of variety and where there was space between statement pieces, candelabras and flowers, there was food or drink. Once the sound of cutlery filled the room, the conversation fell off and comments about the food were exchanged. The feast, as Rhysand called it, was truly one for the books. 

Oh, the beef. It’s delicious. 

Could you hand me more of the potatoes, Lucien? 

Is there any more wine on your end of the table?

We should do this more often. 

The exchanges appeared awkward to Azriel and the small talk he had to endure from Varian made him want to retreat further into his shadows. All throughout the main course he felt Rhysand’s eyes on him but when he went to meet his High Lord’s stare, he had already turned away. 

As the food dwindled and the fae lights dimmed down to a comfortable glow, many different conversations were going on. Feyre talked to Lucien while letting Rhysand feed their son and the Valkyries were explaining their training to Mor, who had been unaware of all the progress the priestesses had made. 

Gwyn was in the middle of explaining the new technique that she discovered while helping Merill with her research when she offhandedly mentioned a thing that elicited a groan from Nesta and Emerie.

Cassian, dragged out from his conversation with Elain, drew back. “What? What happened?” he questioned, brows drawn together in confusion. 

“It’s the long-lost kingdom again,” explained Nesta and Cassian ah’d with some recognition, nodding along.

Gwyn blushed a deep crimson. "I promised Nesta not to talk about it," she sent a glare to the mentioned female over Emerie's head. "So I won't."

Nesta rolled her eyes but it couldn't be taken seriously because as she looked down, one corner of her mouth was lifted up.

"To talk about what?" asked Feyre from the other end of the table, cutting her conversation with Lucien short. The male was already tilting his body towards the priestess, eyes straying to his mate before focusing wholeheartedly back on Gwyn. 

Gwyn met Feyre's kind gaze. "I've finally started my own research and these three hear too much about it."

Something struck Azriel's chest on the left-hand side as he realized he was not included in the explanation. His shadows stilled and watched Gwyn. 

"Oh?" mused Feyre back. She settled her chin on the heel of her palm, smiling gently at the priestess. “What is it about?"

Almost taken aback by the attention she was getting from her High Lady, it had taken her a moment to get the words out. "It's this extinct nation– or at least many think it's extinct. They just about fell off the face of this world five hundred years ago."

There were more blank faces around the table as even Amren drew her unsettling gaze to Gwyn. Now, everyone was listening to her and even Elain let her gentle and encouraging eyes rest on her small form.

What a kindness she thinks she’s offering, one shadow hissed and coiled around his ear. 

Gwyn’s hand reached up to play with a strand of coppery hair, continuing, "Truly, there are barely any records on its fall, some books on its existence and even less on their emergence."

"You do love a challenge, Gwyn," muttered Nesta, earning a gleaming smile from Gwyn. 

"That I do," she responded, almost sheepish. "The last scriptures go back to a few decades before the War. It's unheard of that a kingdom from the continent is not mentioned in writing."

Mor shuffled in her seat, holding the glass of wine in front of her with both hands and offering an inquisitive look to Gwyn. "Is it Severín, by any chance?" 

"Yes," she breathed out, the realization that many of them are as old as five hundred dawning over her. "You fought in the War, didn't you?" she asked, this time with more gentleness. She looked to Cassian who was pushing his food around and nodding lightly, the tone of the conversation still easygoing, edging on clinical.

"We all did," stated Mor, her mood growing more serious with each sip she took. "I went there once but decades after it had fallen to aid an old friend."

"You were there for the liberation of Black Land?" she inquired, earning a nod and a small smile from Mor. She had connected the dots fast enough that it pleased her. 

"I offered my help to Drakon and Myriam, yes. I would not be wrong to suggest you know who they were." 

The use of past tense didn’t escape Azriel.

"Could I—" she started but faltered before she got too ahead of herself. But before she could find better words or consider a better timing, Mor lifted a gentle hand. 

"You can ask any questions you want. I'll come to the library tomorrow for a few hours and I'll make sure to find you."

For a moment, Gwyn was left speechless before she stammered out a quick, "Thank you."

"You're welcome," she uttered, before looking around the table. "We wouldn't want to bore these people with the recounting of ancient history."

"I, for one," said Feyre pointedly while fixing Nyx's clothes, "would love to hear more about this fallen kingdom. I don't get to read as much anymore."

Nesta bit back a grin, turning to her sister with a goodhearted smile. "Anymore? You were illiterate a few years ago."

A few reluctant giggles escaped the present and even Azriel had to hide his smile. Feyre gasped, resting her palms on the table and looking in feigned disbelief at her oldest sister. Rhysand looked to his wife, a smile splitting his face in half. "And whose fault is that?"

This broke the hesitance, light laughter echoing around the room and even Amren cracked a smirk.

Feyre hummed, letting her chin rest against her palm again. "But about the Black Land... Is it not the same as what Mor said? Severing, or something?"

"Severín, my lady," corrected gently Gwyn, letting Feyre copy the hard r's in her own time. She gave her an encouraging smile once she got it right. "But they're not the same, though they existed in the same place within Rask."

“I think I've seen it on one of the older maps, near where the Wall would be," wondered aloud Feyre and her mate gave her a nod, confirming her guess. "Is it close to that mountain range with a river? The northern one."

"Yes, the Vistula River,” she nodded at Feyre. “There’s a legend involving the Severínians and the river delta. Supposedly, before they ever settled in Rask’s territory, the region was surrounded by a desert and there was no vegetation unless you were close to the seashore. And even then it was only rocky ridges, not fit for cultivating crops.”

“But something changed,” muttered Feyre playfully, enchanted by the story Gwyn was gladly unraveling for her. 

“Something did change. ‘When the Severínians finally decided to settle, rivers sprang from the mountains and created a cradle for a new kingdom to rise from.’ It’s a quote from a diary of a Raskan traveler. The name ‘Vistula’ actually means to flow slowly and its roots are in the Severínian language.”

Feyre smiled at the little tidbit of information. “Do we know what urged them to settle there? If there was no life there, it must have been a hard decision to make.”

“I asked myself the same thing! We do know that they were a nomadic people, that their archetypal features were feathered wings. Individuals with pale hair were denoted to have powers. That actually created a new branching in the classification of magic. I saw some scholars give them the title of ‘purifiers.’”

Mor nodded along with the explanation as if everything that came out of Gwyn’s mouth was just confirmation of something she had already known.

“They had a so-called affinity for ‘life’ and it was sought after by many rulers at that time. They could grow crops within a few hours which would otherwise take months under normal circumstances. They made for very good healers and menders and no one had ever described them as violent. Actually, they were quite a docile people. One of their saying was something along the lines of ‘to live is to be gifted and to serve is to protect.’”

“Do you think they had never settled before because someone would have come to take their freedom away—simply because of what they possessed?” asked Feyre again with a thoughtful expression. 

“Perhaps,” agreed Gwyn calmly and judging by her change of expression, the silence around the table came to her with a force of a thousand bricks. Alarmed, she looked around at the present and realized that everyone, including Amren, was fully focused on what she was saying. Shadows notified Azriel that Varian on his right had sent Gwyn a smile before saying that he had never known anything about this kingdom. 

“Rask had never taken lightly to someone encroaching on their territory.  They might be the reason why this kingdom has been ‘wiped’ from the collective memory,” offered Rhysand. 

Mor scoffed, agreeing with her cousin. “Especially if they offered refuge to humans who could have been a workforce in their salt mines instead.”

“Refuge?” Feyre turned her attention to Mor, brows furrowed. “What do you mean by refuge?”

The blonde female looked to her High Lady, skillfully avoiding Lucien’s whirring gold eye. “Before their fall and before Rask had turned it into Black Land, they allowed humans to live side by side with them and even earn their keep. It was unheard of at that time since most of the Courts even in Prythian considered humans slaves.”

“The talks of human rights were nothing but murmurs within chosen circles,” concluded Rhysand, swirling the wine in his cup. “Shame, Severín could have made for good allies during the War.”

“They would not have fought,” spoke up Amren all of a sudden, surprising even Rhysand into stumped silence. 

He frowned, facing his second and declared, “You are right. They wouldn’t have but they were the only example of Fae and mortals living in peace together. That could have made a difference.”

“The fools were so in love with peace, they wouldn’t have sided with foreigners even if it cost them their lives. Which it did anyway.”

Azriel thought to himself that it was perhaps the biggest reaction Amren had given in the past year and since the day she crawled out of the Cauldron. It wasn’t often that this ancient female chose to speak her mind but something had grated against her at the mention of this long-lost kingdom. 

“Rask is a nation of conquerors,” said Amren, her hand playing with a ruby necklace adorning her collarbone. It twinkled in the candlelight of the table and the danger of her eyes. “They wouldn’t have given in where they didn’t have to.”

Mor sucked on the inside of her cheek before responding, “So they chose to sack a peaceful people?”

“Their feud wasn’t just some baseless thing, dusted over by centuries of anger. Those Severínians,” she had spat out the name like spoiled food, “had settled in Raskan territory, knowing damn well where they were.”

“They were the ones who created life there, not Rask,” argued Mor.

Amren’s ageless gaze moved sideways. “So the legend goes.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

She sat up, leaning on her elbows and zeroing in on Mor with a poise of a predator. “What I mean, Morrigan, is that not everything written in those books and scriptures is fact. It takes one desperate generation to rewrite what has truly happened.”

“Are you insinuating that those people deserved getting slaughtered?”

Amren bared her teeth. “All I’m saying is that I wouldn’t let someone with that magic anywhere near me. It’s not of this world and trust my word, I would know.”

Azriel’s shadows had stilled with the exchange, murmurs of questions and curiosity filling his ears. He just watched on as Mor and Amren exchanged heated glances, bared their teeth. Between them, Feyre massaged the space between her brows and when Rhysand laid a comforting hand on her shoulder, she had shook it off. 

“Please,” said Feyre, gaze still downturned. “Don’t argue. Not tonight and not over something meaningless.” 

Within the plead was hiding something more. It wasn’t often that Feyre could just sit down and dine with all of her close friends. She had a child to take care of, she taught children in the city how to paint and see the beauty of the world through the medium of the brush and when she came home, she was still a mother and a High Lady with obligations. The last thing she wished for was an argument—on her birthday, nonetheless.

On her other side, even Lucien had sent worrying glances her way. 

“I’m sorry, Feyre,” murmured Mor, though Amren remained silent. Azriel supposed that it was the biggest apology they would get from her, considering she had never once explained herself to anyone. All she deigned herself to do was meet Feyre’s eyes and nod as if she was heeding a command from her High Lady.

The Inner Circles and the rest had grown quiet, their eyes as if stuck to their plates. Only Azriel was still looking up and around, noticing how awkward it had gotten and wishing it was socially acceptable to winnow from this room. 

From the other end of the table, Cassian cleared his throat and said, “Varian, do you think I could visit this summer? I swear not to shatter another building.”

The laugh from Varian was a little choked and aware of the diversion Cassian had tried to make. “I don’t know if my cousin has lifted your ban.”

“Not even after everything?”

“I’m afraid not,” he sighed. “But Cresseida and I will put in good word for you.”

With a wink from Varian, Cassian laughed, exclaiming, “Atta boy!”

Elain, from Cassian’s side, leaned in and asked with a small voice meant for him only, “How did you get banned from the Summer Court?”

Those who already knew laughed along as Cassian dived into a dramatized retelling of that fateful day in Adriata. 

— ✾ —

The River House had finally fallen quiet after the eventful Winter Solstice dinner and the following party. The faelights had been dimmed to cast little pools of gold amid the deep shadows of the longest night of the year. 

Amren, Mor and Varian had finally gone to bed but Azriel found himself still lingering downstairs. 

He knew he should get some sleep. He would need it come dawn for the snowball battle at the cabin. After everyone had retired back to the family room, Cassian had mentioned no less than six times that he had a secret plan regarding his so-called impending victory. Azriel had let his brother boast, especially since he had been planning his own win for a year now.

Cassian wouldn’t know what was coming for him. And Azriel planned on capitalizing on the fact that Nesta likely wouldn’t let Cassian sleep much tonight. 

Azriel snickered to himself and the ever-restless shadows around him stirred, gazing out to the family room. 

Sleep, they had whispered in his ear and a sense of deep-set exhaustion crawled over his bones again. 

I wish I could, he comforted them silently. But sleep rarely found him these days. 

Too many razor-sharp thoughts sliced any time he grew still long enough for them to strike. Too many wants and needs left his skin overheated as it pulled taut over his muscles. And so he chose to sleep only when his body gave out, and even then only for a few hours.

Azriel surveyed the empty room from the hallway, the presents under the tree and the ribbons littering the furniture. There were two dirty glasses on the mantel of the fireplace, smeared lipstick on one and nothing on the other. 

Nesta and Cassian hadn’t reappeared in the house, though that came as no surprise. They were among the first ones to leave and Azriel’s shadows had notified him of his brother carrying Nesta to the House of Wind mere minutes after Rhysand had winnowed her friends out. 

He was elated for him and yet Azriel was never able to stop it—the green envy in his chest of Cassian, of Rhys. Cauldron, even of Amren. He knew he would be swallowed by that never-ending despair if he went to his bedroom, and so he chose to remain down here by the dying light in the fireplace. 

The room lacked the bustle and laughter it had enshrined for the last couple of hours. Now the silence grew heavy and the stillness of his bedroom began crawling between the walls and into the family room. He clutched his fingers around the jacket on his forearm, letting it dissolve into shadows.

Azriel removed himself from the doorway, entering the hall and walking soundlessly to the foyer. 

Soft steps padded from the stair archway and there she was.

The faelights gilded across Elain’s unbound hair, making her glow like the sun at dawn. Again, the image from the Day Court had appeared before his eyes and as she halted, her breath caught in her throat.

“I…” He watched her swallow. She clutched her fingers around a small box. “I was coming to leave this on your pile of presents. I forgot to put it there earlier.”

A lie. At least the second part was a lie. He didn’t need his shadows to read her tone, the slight tightening of her face. She had waited until everyone was asleep before venturing back down, where she would leave her gift among his other, unopened presents. Subtle and unnoticed, she wanted him to find it in the morning and after the snowball battle. Perhaps she had hoped he would pocket the little box, open it in the privacy of his room and away from the prying eyes of his family.

Elain closed the distance and her breathing quickened as she paused a scant foot away. “No trouble in giving it to you now, I guess. Here.” She extended the wrapped gift, her hand trembling. 

Azriel fought hard not to look at his scarred fingers as they took the gift. She hadn’t bought her mate a present, he recalled. When his shadows went over the gifts, they had divulged this precious detail to him. He hadn’t gotten one this year nor last but she went through the trouble of buying something for him. She had given Azriel a headache powder a year ago which he kept on his nightstand at the House of Wind. Not to use but just to look at. Something he had done every night he had slept there—or rather attempted to sleep there. 

Azriel unwrapped the box, glancing at the card that merely said, You might find these useful at the House these days. -Elain, and then opened the lid. 

Two small, bean-shaped fabric blobs lay within. Elain murmured, "You put them in your ears, and they block any sound. With Nesta and Cassian living there with you..." 

He hadn’t had the heart to tell he was going to move from the House soon and so unable to suppress his impulse, he just chuckled. “You wouldn’t want me to open this in front of everyone.”

Elain’s mouth twitched into a smile. “Nesta wouldn’t appreciate the joke.”

As he closed the box and stuffed it into the pocket of his trousers, he returned her smile. “I wasn’t sure if I should give you your present…” 

He had left the rest unspoken as he reached into his shadows. Her mate was here, sleeping only a level above them and he had been present all throughout the evening, not once leaving the room before Elain had retired for the night. The scent of their mating bond had filled Azriel’s lungs and even if he had positioned himself to a far corner, it would still reach his nostrils, tickling something wicked that called for unfairness. 

Though tonight, here in the dark and silence, there was only the two of them and he supposed it was fair at last to give her this one thing. Despite wanting to give much more.

He pulled the velvet box out, letting his shadows open it for her. Once revealed, they scattered to the back of his neck in a moment’s time. 

Elain sucked in a soft breath that whispered over his skin and his shadow retreated even further, almost completely disappearing. They and their murmurs had always been prone to vanish when she was around and so did his voice of reason. 

The golden chain was unremarkable and the amulet tiny enough to be dismissed as an everyday charm. Weeks ago, he had escaped the House of Wind and found himself walking through the Palace of Thread and Jewel. A vendor had waved him over from the crowd, choosing Azriel to present his newest invention. When he told him to hold it up to the sun, Azriel was rendered speechless once the true depth of colors became visible and it reminded him of her. It was a thing of secret, lovely beauty, just like the female before him. 

“It’s beautiful,” she whispered.

Azriel watched her face tentatively as she lifted the necklace from the box. The fae lights shone through the little glass facets, setting the charm aglow with hues of red, pink, white and green. 

Azriel let his shadow swallow the box as she said softly, “Put it on me?”

The everlasting murmurs in his head slowed to a still. But he took the necklace, opening the clasp as she exposed her back, sweeping her hair up in one hand to bare her neck. 

He knew it was wrong but there he was, sliding the necklace around her. He let his scarred fingers touch her unmarred skin, letting them brush the side of her throat, savoring the velvet-soft texture. Elain shivered, and he took his sweet time fastening the clasp.

Azriel's hand lingered at her nape, atop the first knob of her spine. Slowly, Elain pivoted into his touch, until his palm lay flat against her neck. 

It had never gone this far. They'd exchanged looks, the occasional brush of their fingers but never this. Never blatant, unrestricted touching. 

Wrong—it was so wrong. The murmurs returned with fervor but he didn’t care. 

He needed to know what the skin of her neck felt like. What those lips tasted like, her breasts, her sex. He needed her coming on his tongue—

The fabric of Azriel’s pants began straining against his will. It ached so fiercely he could only pray she didn’t peer down. Pray she didn’t understand the shift in his scent. 

He would only allow himself these thoughts in the dead of night, when everyone had fallen asleep and when no one, not even his shadows, could bear witness to his selfishness. 

Elain bit her lower lip and it took every ounce of Azriel’s restraint not to free it with his own. 

“I should go,” Elain said but made no move to leave. She was still peering up at him with those big eyes.

“Yes,” he said, his thumb sweeping long strokes along the side of her neck. The gentle brush sent a shiver down Elain’s spine and as her arousal drifted up to him, his eyes nearly fell shut. If he could, he would drop to his knees in front of her, asking her to let him worship her body. But Azriel settled for stroking her neck. For now. 

She shuddered, drifting closer. So close, one deep breath would brush up her chest again his upper stomach. She was looking up at him, face so open and unafraid as if he could deliver her to the lands of milk and honey. Azriel wouldn’t put it past himself to try. 

Still, her naivety hadn’t escaped those incessant murmurs of his own. They scratched their talons against his reserve, reminding him that the hand brushing her neck had done unspeakable things. Who was he to touch her like this?

It should be a sacrilege for his rough, scarred fingers to rest on her skin, to taint her with his presence. 

He could have this, right?

Azriel wouldn’t admit it to anyone ever but he was a selfish bastard and he would allow himself to have this one moment of reverie. If only to drive away his curiosity. But afterward, he promised himself to keep a hold on himself, he would go back to restraint. This single occasion would be it for him. Something to keep, something to remember during those long, dark and lonesome hours.

“Yes," Elain breathed like she read the decision. Just this taste in the dead of the longest night of the year, where only the Mother might witness them. 

Azriel's hand slid up her neck, burying in her thick hair. Tilting her face the way he wanted it. Elain's mouth parted slightly, her eyes scanning his before fluttering shut. 

Offer and permission. He nearly sighed in relief as he lowered his head toward hers. 

Azriel.

Rhysand’s voice thundered through him, halting him mere inches from Elain’s sweet and awaiting mouth.

Azriel.

The unrelenting command was an undercurrent to his name and Azriel looked up. Atop the staircase, Rhysand stood with a clenched jaw and a glower pointed at him and only him. 

My office. Now.

Rhysand vanished into thin air and Azriel was left standing there, the prickle of being watched and observed still skipping along his skin. Elain who stood before him was still awaiting his lips on hers. His stomach twisted as he pulled his hand from her hair and stepped back so their breaths would mix no longer. 

He forced himself to say, “This was a mistake.”

Something had his throat in a vice, whether it was a need or the shame at being called on like a dog, he didn’t know. He was only aware of the strained sentence coming out and Elain opening her eyes. They widened, filling with hurt and confusion before she whispered a single, “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t– Don’t apologize,” he managed to say. “Never apologize, it’s I who should…” He shook his head, unable to stand the bleakness in her face that he was the reason for. “Goodnight.”

Azriel winnowed himself into shadows before he could hear what she had to say if anything. He appeared only a heartbeat later in front of Rhysand’s study. His shadows whispered in his ear that Elain was already retreating upstairs. Shame washed over him and he ran a hand over his face. 

He pushed the dark, heavy door to reveal Rhysand at his desk, fury a moonless night across his face. 

He asked softly and only once, “Are you out of your mind?”

Azriel let the door shut behind him and didn’t even think of sitting down in the chair facing the monstrous desk littered with papers and memos. Azriel thinned his mouth at the question. He was always sparse with words and wasn’t going to stop the habit now. 

His brother looked at him in exasperation, as if not believing what he was seeing. Upon closer inspection, the lines on Rhysand’s face were longer and shadows lingered in the space below his eyes. But even despite the tired appearance, his power rolled around him like a dark cloud in an ominous reminder. 

“I asked you something, Azriel.”

Azriel joined his hands behind his back, saying, “What do you want me to say?”

Rhysand’s frown should have been an answer enough. “I want you to explain why I saw you about to kiss Elain in the middle of a hall where anyone could see you,” he snarled, pointing an accusing finger his way. “Including her mate.”

Azriel scoffed. Of course, he would mention Lucien. It wasn’t often that Azriel’s hackles rose and he allowed them to. But when he met his brother’s eyes with rage, he knew Rhysand could match him a thousand times over. His glare had crossed with its violet twin as the air grew heavier and heavier. The siphon on his chest that he kept glamoured vibrated in answer to the challenge.

Rhysand blinked. “What of Mor, Az?”

“Don’t talk to me about Mor,” he bit out.

“I’m going to talk to you about whatever I damn wish. Especially if you go about your delusions like that.”

Azriel chose to ignore that last bit if only to keep some of his sanity. This male before him had been his friend for over five centuries. They have bled, cried and laughed beside each other. He would never lie to him and never spare his feelings. And Rhysand was right, after all. The little voice in the back of his mind had always been right too and the way Rhysand was scowling at him was all the confirmation he needed.

He glared at his shadowsinger. “If Lucien finds out you’re pursuing her, he has every right to defend the bond as he sees fit. Including the Blood Duel.”

“That’s an Autumn Court tradition.” 

The duel had historically been enacted in rare cases and ended only when the other person was dead. There was no yielding, no three taps and out. There were only two fighters and no titles could help once the Blood Duel had been invoked. Despite being an outsider, Azriel had wanted to invoke it when he had found Mor all those years ago. He had been ready to challenge both Beron and Eris, prepared to kill them or die with them. But it was Mor’s right to claim their heads that had stopped him and he would never do her the dishonor of taking that choice away. 

“Lucien, as Beron’s son, has the right to demand it of you,” reminded him Rhysand. 

“I would win,” he stated, pure conviction lacing every word. 

“I know.” It was a bitter sense of acceptance that dawned on Rhysand’s face. “Your doing so would rip apart any fragile peace and alliances we have, not only with the Autumn Court but also the Spring Court. Jurian and Vassa, too.” Rhys looked up from where his hands were joined in front of his face. “You will leave Elain alone.”

Azriel neared one step closer to Rhysand’s desk. “You can’t order me to do that.”

The High Lord took in that step and thinned his lips. “I can and I will. If not to protect you three from a world of hurt, then to protect this Court. I watched you tonight and half the evening you had your eyes glued to Elain and the other half, you were lost in your thoughts. And if I caught onto it, then Lucien did too. You better mind yourself, brother. You’re losing focus.”

Azriel snarled softly against his best judgment. 

“Snarl all you want.” Rhysand leaned back in his chair. “But if I see you panting after her again, I’ll make you regret it.”

Rhysand had rarely considered punishment, let alone threatened it. It stunned Azriel enough to knock him out of his rage and into incredulity. His brother avoided his gaze, grabbing a pen and focusing on the papers on his desk. Even as he looked down, his eyes weren’t scanning the words written there. His hand with the wedding ring shook slightly when he ran it through his hair.

“Get out, Az,” he said, more gently under his breath but Azriel heard it all right. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

With no further words from Rhysand or himself, Azriel walked out of the study, pushing himself to keep a calm pace, though he wanted to storm out. He tucked in his wings, walked down the stairs and past the spot where his and Elain’s mouth had almost met. His eyes were focused forward, shadows swirling around him and sensing the distress of their master. Once he pushed through the front door and into the frigid air, he let it consume him. 

The white clouds escaping his mouth were the only sign he was alive because as he passed the gate, he stood still. Too still. The River House towered behind him and the light in Rhysand’s study went out. 

How his brothers used to fear being chained down by the ankles. They had joked with Azriel, saying he would be the first to settle and that their fleeing nature would never allow them to stay still for one female. 

But they had grown, changed over time while Azriel stayed behind, hoping that the relationship they shared would remain unchanged. 

As Azriel kept standing in the cold, he let it permeate past his suit. Down through his skin and to the marrow of his bones. There was no jacket to ward off the chill—all by his choice. There was no one to run to and Azriel wondered if that was his choice too.

Taglist:

this is being crossposted to ao3 so make sure to show some love there too, if you feel so inclined!

omg hi to whomever is reading this work ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

thank you for taking the time out of your day to sit down with this, be it on your commute, after a long day at school or whatever other downtime you have!! i am very honored and i hope i can entertain.

i'm very pumped to get this out and into the world. this oc has been stuck in my head for like over a year, i swear. maybe even perhaps when the bonus chapter of acosf with azriel first dropped ! the ideas of the plot and scenes just kept coming to me in random moments throughout these last 12 or so months. it felt like i was being shaken by my shoulder and someone was screaming into my face to, "write this one, goddammit!!!!!"

so here i am, appeasing some azriel-obsessed part of me.

since his character is very… open to interpretation due to the utter lack of anything (looking at you, SJM), i'm going to take certain liberties with his personality and motivations. so this might be slightly OOC, but i'll make sure that this is tagged on my ao3.

enjoy, my lovelies. i'll be grateful for any comments, tips or questions. if you think something could have been done differently, don't ever be afraid to comment on it. i am very open to criticism as bettering my craft is one of my biggest goals with this. my inbox is open (i think).

[benevolenterrancy]

mark your words, wei wuxian

(I have modern sports aus on the brain and decided that if we're taking away their swords we should at least arm them with sticks, so it became a hockey4hockey au)

[ofoceansandtombsanew]

heart to heart

cw. selfship-coded, childhood friend au, pre-canon, pre-relationship, slight angst, fluff, one piece spoilers

pairing. portgas d. ace x reader

notes. apparently it isn't enough for me to brainrot in private about a character i've been obsessed with for a decade, you guys have to be subjected to it as well. whoops🤪

It is not hyperbole to say that early mornings are the only time of day when the Dadan Family base is peaceful.

The sun has barely risen, the morning birds have barely begun their song and most everyone is still snoring away in their cots. Early mornings and late evenings have become Dadan’s favorite time of day, citing them as the only times she is ever allowed a moment of peace.

That peace is stalled whenever Garp visits.

“You sure you don’t wanna come with us,” you ask Ace a final time before you leave for your hometown.

Ace shakes his head with a small smile, “they’re more your friends than mine.” A true sentiment, in your six years of knowing each other, there is still a distinction between your friends in Windmill Village and your friends living among bandits on Mt. Corvo. “Tell ‘em I said ‘congrats’ though. We might end up seeing them later down the road.”

“As marines!” Garp calls over his shoulder gruffly, not waiting for you to catch up. He has one more year to change his grandson’s mind about becoming a marine before the two of you left Dawn Island for saltier pastures. If he knew that fact, however, you’re sure the marine would grab you both by the back of your shirts and drag you to the port in Windmill Village this second. “You should take after those boys!”

The boys in question are Demarius and Stacey.

They’ve adored Garp since before you knew Ace was his grandchild, constantly pleading for him to take them to a naval base. He promised to do so once they turned 16. The least you could do was bid your friends farewell before they lived out their naval dreams.

Ace rolls his eyes, “Pirate!”

“It’s too early in the morning for you two to start that old fight again,” Dadan grumbles, turning around to head back inside. This was enough kissing Garp's butt for her, tucking away her handkerchief. “I get nothing but headaches when Garp comes around.”

You snicker at the grouchy woman’s exit, looking over her shoulder. The door to the room you share is shut close but you can easily picture Luffy stretched out and snoring, limbs all over the place wildly. He’ll be adding to Dadan’s headache soon enough. “Alright, well, I’ll be back later,” you tell Ace unnecessarily.

“You should spend the night in town,” Ace’s disgruntled expression shifts into something warm. You remember a time when he seldom smiled and could only offer you scowls. It’s hard to believe how much he smiles now, your lips quirking instinctively at the sight. “You haven’t been in town for a while. Everyone probably misses you.”

You lean forward, wiggling your eyebrows, “aww, trying to get rid of me now? You’re just trying to get more of a cut at dinner.”

“Maybe,” Ace’s grin widens and you share a laugh before Garp calls after you, further away than he was last.

Damn for an old man he moves fast. “See you,” you nudge your freckled friend before turning on your feet, nearly tripping as you stumble after his grandfather. “I’m okay,” you call over your shoulder.

Garp is grumbling to himself as you approach him. You don’t need to hear his words clearly to know he is thinking about his pirate obsessed grandsons. “Those dolts,” he mutters. “You used to play marines all the time with those kids in town. Now they’ve got you talking about being a pirate. You’ll all be marines, mark my words!”

“I really only ever wanted to just sail on the seas,” you tell Garp truthfully. Even as a child when Demarius demanded you play marines because he always wanted to play marines, you never played because you aspired to be one. It didn’t have to be the marines, it didn’t have to be pirates, you just wanted to set sail on the ocean blue. Pirate merely became the subsequent medium you vowed to pursue. “The marines kinda seem,” you mull over your next words carefully. “Strict. I just wanna see the world, not be told what to do.”

“Discipline is a good thing,” is his rebuttal. He certainly was very strict in the training you unwittingly got pulled into once he discovered your true intentions.

Silence falls between you both but it isn’t comfortable, not like the silences you’re used to.

Silence in Dadan’s home is accompanied by snores or the movement of someone heading to the bath. Luffy mumbling in his sleep about the many adventures he and his dream crew are on causing you and Ace to share a look and chuckle quietly under your breaths.

It’s when you tell yourself ‘Today’s the day I actually do it’ and you count away in your head the number of Ace’s freckles until you inevitably mess up the count and have to start all over again.

It’s when it’s raining and you, Ace and Luffy sleep in an empty hollow of a tree, the croak of the frogs singing to the drops.

Silence with Garp is suffocating and the jungle is too quiet and your brain too full of anxiety-ridden hypotheticals to even think about your childhood friends you’d be bidding farewell to. Instead, the ones you wouldn’t be saying goodbye to were at the forefront of your mind.

Another minute of silence follows before you’re unable to stop the words from falling from your lips, “Mr. Garp?”

Garp hums gruffly, bark worse than his bite, “what is it?”

“Let’s say that, hypothetically speaking of course, Ace and Luffy do become pirates,” you begin nervously, wincing at how the older man’s eyes sharpened at the word. “Hypothetically!” You’ve been a recipient of many of the marine’s Fists of Love, despite not belonging to his family, you don’t fancy receiving another. “They hypothetically become pirates and end up getting taken in,” you lick your lips as you try to imagine the scenario.

To your discomfort, it is terrifyingly easy to imagine Ace and Luffy in shackles.

The spectacle the World Government would make of it all. The grand executions of the sons of Gol D. Roger and Monkey D. Dragon.

The vitriol of the onlookers spewing words of hatred and damnation. No one would know who they are, not the onlookers in the crowds or the marines holding the weapons that would end their lives. Devils, they would be called. 

There would be one marine who knew them, however. Who truly knew them and not what they represented. It only breaks your heart that in your many years of knowing the older man that you don’t know what end of the spectrum he falls on. No, that’s an incorrect assessment. What breaks your heart is that it has always been too easy suspecting precisely where Monkey D. Garp would fall.

In spite of your suspicions, you still part your lips and ask, “would you help them?” Uncharacteristically, you fiddle with your fingers, the index finger of your right hand being nestled by the thumb and index finger of your left. Clad in a tacky red button up with white roosters, the stocky man’s back seems broader than usual.

It’s the long pause between your question and his answer that sinks in your chest like a knife. “They,” Garp begins but you cut the man off with a laugh.

“Don’t be so serious,” you laugh so convincingly you almost believe you’re unbothered. “I was just messing around. I’m up in the air on the pirate thing but for all we know, Luffy’ll start talking about being the Marine King the next time you see him.”

The elderly marine laughs at the absurdity of your thought, “a king among marines, that’ll be the day.”

ー

“Your shadows not with you for once?” Stacey jokes lightheartedly as he leans his head over in mock surprise at the lack of people accompanying you.

“I’m pretty sure Mr. Garp would drag them onto that boat if they did,” anything to make those two follow in their grandfather’s footsteps. “Ace sends his congratulations anyways.”

“I’m still convinced that guy was replaced by aliens,” Demarius murmurs, squinting at the mountain’s peaks with narrowed eyes. You snort at the absurdity. You, along with your village-bound friends, had met Ace when he was more angry at the world and nearly all of the people inhabiting it. To say they’d been shocked when, the next time they met him, Ace was polite and all smiles is an understatement. Demarius’ suspicious glance lasts a beat longer before he turns his dark eyes to you, shoulders set back. “You can still come with us, you know.”

You remember being 10, running down these dirt roads playing marines with your friends as a rowdy quintet.

The battles you pretended to have against whatever made-up opponents Demarius decided you’d be fighting against. He’d always been the leader of the five of you ー him, Stacy, Pierre, Lisa Lisa and you ー would find yourselves on the tempestuous seas of the Grand Line, all odds against you.

“This is not a good day for battle but it is a glorious day to die,” you remember resolutely saying, words too heavy for someone who hadn’t been in a real fight her entire life until that point.

Real fights came after you met Ace and Sabo. When you began running amok in the capital and Gray Terminal. Real battle came when their angering the Bluejam pirates caught up with them. You couldn’t say you felt glorious fighting the Bluejam pirates in the flames of their hideout. Nor could you say Sabo’s horrifying end was glorious either. There is no glory in fighting but you will do what you have to to protect who you have left.

Pulling yourself from the memories, you shake your head, “you’ll see me at sea next year,” you vow with a grin. You lower your voice so the cantankerous marine behind you cannot hear what you say next. “It’ll just be in a way that pisses off the old man.”

There’s simply one more year to go.

You, alongside the other locals, wave the boys down until they become nothing but a speck on the horizon. Well, off their asses go. You sit on the porch step of what used to be the house that belonged to you and your grandfather. I think the last time I came here it was like, you purse your lips thoughtfully. Shiiieet, 3 months ago? You seldom spend time in the empty shack now. It is only good for your occasional visits and when you’re too lazy to head back up to Dadan’s. That is where home is now.

It’s wherever Ace and Luffy are.

Ace and Luffy who you know Garp loves but will always choose work first. He always has and he always will, so you will always choose them instead.

[rebornrosess]

A WORLD OF NOISE: THE ZABAJABA JUNGLE

ZABA by Glass Animals is 10 YEARS OLD TODAY.

A poem/stream of consciousness I wrote about ZABA on a rainy September night in 2022, one month after seeing Glass Animals live. ZABA was the album by which I found Glass Animals in 2018, and its abstract yet visceral nature continues to fascinate me. The more I listened, the more I felt I could understand the imagery drawn across its 11 tracks.

Essentially, I believe ZABA can be understood as a Queer reading and apologue of Plato’s allegory of the cave. There are many lines that allude to a (Queer) awakening from perceived societal constraints such as in Walla Walla (“it’s a ruse, all these creatures are a lie” & “i clap my hand and they’re gone into the night”), likely referencing the shadows projected by the puppet showmen in Plato’s allegory. Thus, the anguish expressed in songs predating ZABA’s release such as in Golden Antlers and in Exxus are symptomatic of a speaker trapped in a cave, unable to escape a deeper feeling of unease because they are only seeing the reality projected to them by a cisheteronormative system. It is only when the speaker escapes this metaphorical cave in Flip, the opening track of ZABA, (“I’m gonna shake my fetters / I’m breaking loose”), that they finally enter the confusing, overwhelming, but beautiful and fluid “world of noise” mentioned in Pools (and sonically created in Intruxx). Over the course of ZABA, the speaker wrestles with their preconceived notions of reality (Walla Walla uses a ton of imagery from The Matrix), relationships, gender, and sexuality, while simultaneously feeling betrayed by their family and society (Hazey and Toes).

The B-Side of ZABA dips into existential dread, as the speaker mourns the time they lost to the incomplete reality they had accepted in the cave, and the effects it had on their mental health (Wyrd), climaxing in Cocoa Hooves, as the speaker (or someone else), confronts them(selves) and the changes they have undergone in the ZABAJABA jungle. The speaker must choose if they wish to stay in the confusing yet euphoric jungle, or self-destruct (“set [their] wings on fire”) and return to the cave after flying too close to the sun and after indulging too deeply in their primal instinct. However, just as the freed prisoner in Plato’s allegory, the speaker runs the risk of never being able to live in blissful ignorance again, as their eyes may never re-adjust to the incomplete, crafted reality of the cave.

The last track of the album, JDNT, presents a conclusion as ambiguous as the title Dave refuses to explain. It is possible the speaker is accepting their doomed fate as prophecized to them by the antagonist in Wyrd, or radically accepting their outcast status, enjoying the “life untamed.” And perhaps, in the end, they triumph over their internal turmoil by recognizing it only has power over them if they allow it to, as it cannot “breathe without [them].” And thus, they return to the Earth, unfettered and born anew.

[glitchedcrows]

Making a podfic of my current hyperfixation just to bully my friends into consuming this story that’s taken over my life? No I would never 😅

….anyway….

I’m just gonna leave this here 👀

[yujeong]

Time was at a standstill. Vegas was holding his breath without noticing, and continued to hold it when he did - he was afraid of what would happen if he exhaled loudly enough to draw attention to himself. His gaze was shifting between Pete and the man who was standing before them in the doorway, blocking their entrance. Vegas had never seen him before, but even so, he recognized Pete in him enough to know who he was. A dangerous aura surrounded him. There was an edge to his presence that Vegas would only come across people of certain circles. He was a fighter. A muay khao. Pete's father. Shame coursed through Vegas' body, smearing his skin, settling in his lungs, rendering him speechless. I thought he was dead, he wanted to tell Pete if he could. He wanted to scream at him, I thought you killed him. Pete was the one who broke the stillness. As if awakened by something, he took a half-step back and made a motion with his arms, almost raising them to his chest, but not quite. In an instant, Pete reverted into the pet Vegas had been keeping at the safehouse, bound by handcuffs and afraid of his belt hitting flesh and drawing blood. A lump formed in Vegas' throat. "Have you stopped practicing? Your form is off." The uncanny similarities between Pete and his father appearance-wise didn't mean a thing when it came to their voices. Vegas shivered. Was this what Pete would sound like in a few decades? (Were these the condescending words he'd choose to spew? Was Pete going to embody his father? Was Vegas embodying his?) "What are you doing here?" Pete whispered. "They let me out for a few days, so I came here to collect some money. Imagine my surprise when I found out my offspring left the job someone found him worthy enough of doing to... do what exactly? Yaai didn't want to tell me." He crossed his arms, waiting for an answer. Vegas didn't know what he was allowed to say. If he was allowed to say anything at all. "It's none of your business." "I'd say it very much is my business, as well as yaai's business who was dependent on the money you were making being some rich asshole's human shield." A choked sound scratched Vegas' throat. He didn't like getting reminded of Pete being the main family's bodyguard, even though he stopped being one mere months ago. Especially like this. That was the first time Pete's father stopped looking at his son and turned his head to look at Vegas. For a moment, there seemed to be recognition in his eyes. Did he know who Vegas was? Did he care? A snort came out of his mouth. He leaned on the door. "Oh, I see how it is." He laughed, scratched his neck. "I never expected you to whore yourself out for money. Tell me, is it preferable to the path I carved out for you?" Vegas could sense the disgust in his voice. He could also see it on Pete's face. He was too astonished to share it, but not enough to be unable to speak. "Khun, there has been some misunderstanding-" "Don't bother. I can recognize a faggot when I see one." Pete's movements were too fast for Vegas to stop him. A direct jab to the nose; his father fell like a pack of cards, groaning like a wounded animal. Surprisingly, no blood - Pete held back. Vegas didn't know what to think about that. "That was a pathetic attack, even for you." "Get up." "We're not in the ring, son." Pete growled. Vegas could see his hands trembling as he was keeping them in the air, maintaining an offensive stance. "That never stopped you before." "You were too young to understand what I was doing back then. What I was preparing you for." Pete was silent. "The world isn't kind. It'll fuck you over one way or another." He got up, spat on the ground. "You still haven't learned a thing. You're too old to afford being naive." He turned around, and without sparing a look at Pete again, said: "Now get the fuck out of my house." (For @musictooth, whose posts about Pete's father have reignited my passion for this specific concept and for @wretchedamaranth, whose comments on my writing are always lovely and precious ❤️)