#i forgot to add any tags LMAO hold on

[deadmaidclub]

revisiting/redoing a few of my sdr2 redesigns :)

[saetgvia]

genshin boys takin care of u on ur monthly

im back from the void of no content

im feeling berry soft and fluffy so enJOY the boys taking care of fem!reader on her period :)

characters: wriothesley, lyney, alhaitham, xiao

tw: periods (duh), staining sheets in wrio’s one, lmk if i forgot anything :D

also also i wanna make a pt. 2 pls drop any characters u want in my asks or comments ily guys enjoy

also does anyone know how to add the blue

read more tag on mobile/browser? tyty

———————————————————————

wriothesley

- kay so idk him really well needa finish archon quest but he would treat you like a QUEEN

- whatever u need he has it

- bro is chill af and knows what hes doing

- will get cuddly LMAO

- he js wants to pamper u

- so he does :D

- if u stain anything he’ll be calm and change the sheets and everything while u take care of urself

- cooks for u

- reminds u to take painkillers if u need them

- soft kisses heh

- movie marathons!!

- takes care of ur EVERY CRAVING

lyney

- determined to do ANYTHING to make u smile

- so he’ll pull random bouquets out of his pocket and present them to u

- or pretend to do a trick and kiss ur nose instead

- he is SO asking lynette for advice

- poor boy panics a lil even tho he knows how normal this is and he has a sister

- but he’s never really bothered too much abt it before

- he knows how to deal with it but he just wants to make u happy

- he treats u so well aww

- cooks for u

- makes everything cheesy

- like little smiley face rice balls

- or an egg cooked in a heart shape

- so many cuddles

- i love him

alhaitham

- so chill and nonchalant

- gets u wtv u need

- cooks for u

- ion think he’s a very big cuddler but if u need him he’ll hold u

- forehead and nose kisses

- he’ll hold ur hand a lot and like run his thumb on the back

- when he does hold u its u sitting on a couch binging movies with ur head on his chest and his fingers in ur hair

- he does acts of service to help lessen ur load

xiao

- he’s basically js confused

- ‘human women… bleed… for a week every month… and don’t die??’ WHAT SORCERY IS THis

- like lyney poor boy panics a bit

- he’s been around for millennia but this thing can get him flustered

- always nervous to hold u and kinda doesn’t want to but he will for u

- cooks for u obv

- always checking up on u, asking if u need anything

- ‘here, i got this for you’ (insert literally anything he randomly saw and thought would make u smile)

- constantly asking if it hurts

- you tell him to chill and he goes ‘HOW CAN I WHEN YOURE HURTING’ and ugh hes so soft and silly

- takes extra care of u

- constant vigilance

- so sweet

GUYS i think i’ll make a pt. 2 so again, if you have any reqs for this or any other fics drop ‘em in my asks or comments ily all <3

[last-starry-sky]

kinktober day 5 - foreplay only // knifeplay

ghost x soap x f!reader - (continued in day 6 here)

[MDNI - NSFW - MIND THE WARNINGS: 1k, NONCON: forced PDA, restraint, knifeplay, implied kidnapping. No actual sex but this is insane as hell! Stay safe and don't read if any of the above makes you uncomfortable! If I forgot any warnings, please let me know!]

tag list (lmk if you'd like to be added!): @slut-lmao, @mishaglass

“P-please! Please . . . n-no,” you sputtered out, hands held up instinctively in surrender as you backed away. 

The large man just continued to stare at you. The alley is dark, barely lit from either end by the street lights. Dark enough that you almost ran into him. You backed away from him immediately, more embarrassed than scared. You can see he’s in all black, perfect camouflage to melt into pitch-black alcoves and back doors. That’s not what scared you, though. He could have been taking the same shortcut as you, or minding his own business, not that you cared now. It’s the oversized knife in his hand that has your heart racing. 

“I didn’t mean to- I’ll leave! I’m leaving! Please just-” you try to bargain as you back farther and farther away from him. He continued to stare at you, broad shoulders hunched, face hidden in the shadow of his hood. When he makes no move to follow you, you allow yourself to think you’ll be safe. Just one more weird encounter to add to your list since moving to the city. 

You relax your arms to your sides with a sigh. Your eyes are still on the man, just in case he decides to try anything. He doesn’t. He’s still standing where you ran into him, large size menacing enough to push you away without a single action or word. You’re just about to turn on your heels and run the fuck out of there (and all the way home, the long way) when a strong arm suddenly braces across your chest, pinning your arms uselessly to your side.

“Well, wouldjae lookit this now?” the man behind you said, his northern accented voice full of excitement. 

Your mouth opened to scream, but his other hand was quick to seal over your mouth. His fingers press insistently into your jaw, not too hard but enough. A warning. His hand turned your head up to face him, strangely wanting you to see your attacker and all of his distinguishing features: his blue eyes, high cheekbones, the mohawk, and a mouth turned up in a cruel, elfin smile. You try to kick and wiggle away, but he, like the other man, is too strong. He effortlessly picked you up with just one arm, making you stand on your tip-toes, splayed open on the tops of his boots, pinned to his chest.

“Lively lil’ sprite, ain’t she Ghost?” he said to the other man. 

As if he’s been activated, he began to move down the alley. His hulking, black-clad form was a terrifying thing to see in motion. Before you can even think to struggle again, he’s right in front of you, sandwiching you between their bodies. He towers over you and the man holding you. Good lord, you think. The knife you’d only caught a glimpse of before is right in front of you now. He held it casually in one hand, black gloved fingers dancing on the grip, making the cruel length of it bounce. The dull metal blade caught the weak light of the street lamp, winking at you.

He, Ghost, pressed the flat of his blade to your outer thigh, right below the hem of your skirt. You shiver against the cold metal, only your thin tights separating it from your skin. 

“Yeah,” he answered, voice deep and rough as he slid the knife up your hip, not caring that your skirt was brought up with it.

You whine behind the man’s hand as Ghost carefully pivoted the knife under your skirt to trail along the elastic band at the top of your tights. You squeezed your eyes shut when you felt the knife stop. If they were going to kill you, it would happen right now. You know it. Ghost's other hand grips at your waist, thumb pressing up and under your shirt.

“Move yer hand, Soap,” Ghost instructed, flipping the blade of the knife around to face him before pulling against your skirt. The fabric doesn’t stand a chance against the sharp steel. With a barely audible riiip, it fell to the ground between your and Soap’s feet. “Wanna hear her.”

“Only if she’ll be gooood,” Soap cooed, sing-song sweet as he tips your head to press his mouth to your head. Just the sound of his voice sends you trembling. His thick fingers on your mouth splay open just a little. “Scream ‘n, well . . .” he said softly into your hair, the threat hanging as open as the blade stroking the center seam of your tights.

It’s the barest of stimulation, and, given the situation, it should not be arousing you. The hardness of the metal is nothing like your toys at home. Even fingers and real body parts have never had the same unforgiving press like the weapon in his hand. Still, you feel your slick cooling against your core now that you’re exposed to the night air. As the tip of his blade draws upward, catching the delicate knit of elastic, it ripples and whirs. When it paused over your clit you let out a little sigh. You thought it would be too soft for either of them to hear, but they did. 

Ghost stopped, a surprised huff falling from his mouth, like he can’t believe what he’s heard. Soap groaned behind you. He dropped his hand from your face. Instead, he drew you tighter to his chest, squeezing your breasts with both his muscled arms.

“Hear that Ghost?” Soap asked, nuzzling his face down to your ear.

With a flick of his blade, Ghost slashed open the front of your tights, exposing your soaked panties. 

“Sure did,” he responded. 

With another quick flick of his hand, Ghost flipped the large knife so that he could grip it by the blade. Now wielding the handle, he brought the warm grip up to rest against the gusset of your panties. You jumped at the sudden feeling, feeling a blush spread across your face. How embarrassing, you thought. Two strange men were having their way with you in an alleyway of all places, and you were enjoying it. You had to be sick, truly not right in the head. You bit your lip to prevent yourself from letting any other noises come out. You couldn’t let them know how this was really making you feel.

The grip on your waist tightened as Ghost began to saw the handle back and forth across the lace of your panties. Your slick had already soaked the fabric, leaving almost no friction in his cruel movements. You whined behind your teeth when he pulled the knife back, letting the blunt end of the grip draw up through your covered folds, bumping your clit as he pulled away.

You watched, stomach dropping, as he brought the handle up to his masked face. He gave the handle an audible sniff. He hummed behind the skull-print balaclava, eyes falling closed in pleasure, before pressing it to Soap’s mouth.

“Wet,” he said, low and simple, to the other man. You managed to turn your head up in time to see Soap stick out his tongue. He licked a fat stripe of your juices along the handle as his own saliva dripped from his mouth. “Think she like it,” he added, pulling the knife away before sliding it back into whatever hidden place he carried it.

“Think she likes us,” Soap sighed, eyes half closed as he pressed a kiss to your forehead. He squeezed you in another lung-compressing hug, forcing a squeak from you. “Comm’on Si,” he said turning to look at Ghost with large, begging eyes. “Let’s keep this one. Just this once. Please?”

Ghost sighed in annoyance, but something in your gut knew it was just for show. 

“Olright,” he said gruffly. “Just this once.”

[kittykittyanon]

if we were irl friends:

Imagine us laying on your bed during a sleepover, it's late and night and we're snuggled together (i love physical affection) and if you're cool with it I would be lile twirling one of your curls with my fingers.

Suddenly I would say the most depressing shit like, "Sometimes I wonder if everyone in the world hates me but then I remember you, and realize that if everybody in the world hates me at least I have you."

Of course you would probably stare at me like 😧 "what the fuck Amor"

And then a few seconds later I would say the most inappropriate shit like the mood swinging teen I wm ,"The things I would let Leo do to me 😏😏" (which would be a joke btw)

woahzaz,, that was fast!! /pos!! and—

—OMIGOSH OMIGOSH OMIGOSH YESSSSSSSS. GAHHH!!! I LOVE THIS SM AMI!!! i was actually gonna add a bit related to this (deep talks, i mean) to the hcs but i didn't know if you were cool with it so i ended up scrapping it,, but now that i have confirmation i am ready to go WILD. (LETS GOOO MUTUAL LOVE OF PHYSICAL AFFECTION RAHHHHH) (other hcs here)

and i love those types of suggestive jokes,, they're so fun — especially when it's with someone who can match it LMAO

song for this: Thérèse by Maya Hawke!! and the other hcs gave me Warsh_Tippy and Zelda by Whatever, Dad vibes but i forgot to put it at the end of them (*ﾉ∀`*),,,, tags: @ziipzeepzop-eez cause you wanted to see it (*/▽＼*) !!

imagine under the cut!!

we'd tuck into eachother, comfortably tangled in a nest of limbs; my head would lay on your chest, mindlessly scrolling though my phone on one hand, the other resting by your side. your hand in my hair, the atmosphere cozy and the lights off, room only lit up by the faint blue light emitting from my phone, it was a comfortable end to the day filled with excitement. your chest would rise and fall with each breath and i'd hear you sigh, the first sound you made in a while. perhaps you were thinking.

"sometimes i wonder if everyone in the world hates me, but then i remember you, and realize if everybody in the world hates me atleast i have you."

the room falls silent again. what? where did that come from? my thumb pauses mid-scroll, hovering in the air above my screen. my hand is still. yours is not.

despite the absolute bombshell of a sentence you dropped on me, my curls are still twisted and twirled between your fingers, undisturbed in their pursuit.

i don't know what to say.

"... there's no way everyone in the world hates you. you're not hate-able, amor." i'd murmur, a dry attempt at making you laugh. i don't think it worked.

"you're loved. and not just by me. anyone who says otherwise is factually incorrect and i will, uhm... commit... some sort of crime to stop 'em." that one pulls a slight amused huff out of you, and relief pools in, atleast i managed to get you to smile, "but... i'm glad you know i love you."

there's a pause, an intermission; your hand would rest in my hair and we'd be unmoving, still, content to sit in each other's company. a comfortable silence.

...

"the things i would let leo do to me..." you'd snrrk, and i'd hold back my giggles, but let a few slip through anyway.

"you when leonardo," i'd turn my phone to face you, showcasing a silly meme that made me think of you, and in moments we'd burst into laughter, filling the quiet of the room with a lighthearted atmosphere once again.

"anyways DONNIE WANTS ME FRFR 😍😍😍🤩🤩🤩🤪🤪🤪🤪💥💥💥—"

taa-daaa!! that's it for this imagine :PPP eueuegdgejdgh it's my first time writing where it's with a hypothetical scenario and i'd have to use "would" so my apologies if there was an overuse of the thingy "'d" !! if you have any criticisms or things you noticed that i have to improve on,, pretty please share!! i wanna improve (ノ*°▽°*) !! ((and about the donnie thing,, that was a joke too LMFKAKAO))

for extra hcs related to this,,

we'd definitely have deep talks at the randomest of times. like we could be eating snacks while watching a show or a movie and the conversation (originally discussing said piece of media) would swerve into our beliefs and ideologies and we'd dig into our childhoods and how it affected us and our behaviors and just as quick as the topic derails it goes right back to being silly again

feels like the kinda friendship you can share anything in. like one of us could share a piece of jaw-dropping, tear inducing, heart breaking trauma or one of the most embarrassing things we had ever done and there would be zero judgement.

where if you're comfortable, then i'm comfortable, and we do whatever we want together without fear of weirding the other out.

"kitty, what's the meaning of life? why are we here? what's our purpose?" "i dunno. but i pet my cat, ate a sandwich, and i hung out with you. i think that's enough meaning for today." "oh." a moment of silence. "... wanna play just dance?—" "is that even a question—"

we wouldn't even be able to finish a song 'cause we'd laugh so hard we'd end up on the floor.

[cescalr]

New tag game: list ten of your childhood ships!

tagged by @babybeale <3... forever ago. Uh. Whoops!

[I will also state my current feelings regarding the ship, and I'll go into as little or as much detail as I feel like <3 I'm also. I have a sieve brain. I'm trying to remember what the fuck it was I shipped as a kid lmao. Anything I shipped, say, pre 2016, I think should count? ftr that means I was 14 or under when I shipped it.]

Nina/Fabian, from House of Anubis;

They're still cute. Better than what they pulled in the last season ;-; fabian and mara...... why...........

2. Sam and Freddie, from iCarly;

This show was just. Not good at writing romance. At all. It was bad at it. But I am very smart and know better than them (/joke) so I could do seddie justice. Er. Maybe trying to do that right now, actually. Shh.

[also, friend; jade and beck is so complicated, you're right. A fun mess, but still a mess lmao. Me and my rarepairs was always a fan of stuff that never ended up being canon though. Might as well put it next, I guess? Looking at your 3.... when it comes to icarly; we could not possibly have had more different opinions on the matter <3 lmao]

3. Tori Vega / André Harris;

I haven't watched it in years so I do not remember why! But I do remember that I did. I think. Don't - don't quote me on anything ever.

4. Willoz - from buffy the vampire slayer;

No gifs for them :( :( :( love them still so very much <3

5. Honestly, I'd steal your number 5 bestie, 6Teen was great. In the spirit of obscure animated TV shows, though - and It's been so damn long I forgot the names of some characters, had to look up the guy's name, lol - Zero and Vin from The Invisible Network of Kids. It left a profound impact on my psyche because they did something really fucked up in the last episode, plus left us on a cliffhanger, and then the show got cancelled </3 rip. Haven't watched it in a decade or so. No idea if it holds up, but I was super invested in these kids doing spy work and experiencing insane levels of trauma that would be ignored come each new episode </3. I was literally 8 years old <3. It has a TV tropes page and the entire show is availible on the Internet Archive, of all places, sooooooo I may browse. For nostalgia's sake. There are literally zero gifs available for this one, because. I mean. No shit.

7. Didn't watch any of that continuity - only got so far as Tracey Beaker Returns... alas. Anyway, my pic for 7..... hm. Sigh.

Stiles/Lydia, Teen Wolf.

This ^ is NOT romantic! she slams her mouth onto his in the middle of a panic attack. Babe. No. No. Regardless; I don't like it </3. They really. Oh god they really fucked up this one. Like a lot. Plus, they both just ended up with much better canon ships (stalia, marrish) that then got shafted for this mess to be the endgame and then the movie breaks them up anyway!!! OFFSCREEN!!!! they didn't even last 2 weeks!!!! fuck!!!!!!!! I don't like them. But I used to. Playlist, for proof. I feel like this counts, because I shipped them when I first watched the show as it aired (I was 10 when the show started), but I did still ship the pairing until well into my teens (16 or so) before I wised up (the show made them very bad in a really boring way. Not that they weren't bad before. Love how they both do things that are otherwise reprehensible but the show frames them as romantic for some fucking reason </3 I was like 13 when I saw this kiss on screen. They're lucky I did research and didn't just take it at face value or I could've gotten some really bad ideas about what's healthy in a situation like this!).

8. Zikki (Zane/Rikki), H20: Just Add Water;

Season 3 does not exist <3 [also, the way they wrote the 'cheating' plotline was fucked up. That woman planted one on him!!! he did not consent!!! Why are we supposed to be blaming him for being sexually harassed in the workplace!!! No!!!]. Still ship them fr fr.

8. maf;lkasjd;f yeahhh. Think if you watched friends as a kid, it was inevitable you'd ship rosschel, the damn thing was pushed so hard. Stand in regretful solidarity;

For really obvious reasons (being that it is rosschel); hot damn no I do not!

9. Harry and Ginny, Harry Potter.

Ignoring the horrendous movie adaptation, when I read the hp books I basically just defaulted to shipping whatever was canon. Luckily for me, the canon hp ships are actually pretty good ones! If you ignore the canaries in the room. (I. Do not. Famously. Well. Infamously.) As for Hinny, whilst its a garbage ship name, the pairing itself is pretty great <3

10. kaljdflkasdt thank god I don't remember jack shit about watching glee for the first time! the sieve brain is a blessing in this one occasion. I've already mentioned in another (tagged <3) post my vaguely-relevant hsm ships, though, so..... hmm. What should I pick.... let's think.... I'm kidding. I don't need to think.

Shoker is a major missed opportunity in ME, and I've been mad about the choices for my fem!shep for YEARS because. Look. Kaiden she did not cheat on you. You left!! You accused her of being evil and fucked off after she was resurrected!! what else was she supposed to think other than 'guess he doesn't want to date me anymore. Rude.' And. You could have sex with Jack but not romance her, that was locked to male characters >:| biphobia [Jack can have sexual relations with women, but her only real connections are to men. Rude!]. And, Liara in my games always turned herself down for romance because she assumed my shep wanted to date Kaiden because she's not a total dick to him and there's no way for me to clarify otherwise, also people making assumptions :/ not great. Plus Li becomes the shadow broker and it's a whole thing, so that doesn't really work out narratively for me anyway. Can't romance Miranda. Can't romance Tali (wouldn't anyway - Tali/Garrus <3). Refuse to romance Garrus that is just so platonic a dynamic it's not even funny. Jacob cheats and dips, so fuck him. Like... all of the fem!shep romances are terrible (or Trainor, I guess, but she's... kind of. Nobody. She's Just There. Sorry. It's not narratively interesting enough for me.) and Joker was right there and augh. Augh! Still ship. Still mad about it. Hatboy Project is doing the lord's work! I salute thee soldier in thine endeavours. Waiting to replay LE until it's been finished <3.

<3

If anyone wants to pick this up, go for it!

[tieftail]

tieftail pinned! (updated sept '24)

hello! i'm tieftail (for now no names, just url please), i'm 23, i'm queer/genderqueer (any pronouns), i'm a switch and a vers. this blog is primarily but not totally reblogs. slowly getting braver.

quick gender disclaimer if you are a blog who prefers men or women not to interact! i am not a man or a woman, i am both a man and a woman. this sometimes makes it hard to judge where dnis lie. i use my brain about it obviously but if you don't want me interacting, feel free to block, no hard feelings! that being said, you're going to see a lot of butch/femme content here, since that'a a term/dynamic that i and my partner have a lot of affinity for.

my partner is @divineundone and i love them dearly. if you see me rambling about my love or my pet or my goddess, that's them :)

this is a kink blog. minors dni. Get outta here. also, do not touch my content if you are a terf, an ed/proana blog, or a self harm blog. that aside, i am not a dni person, but some preferences for how you interact with me if you choose to- please do not add comments in rbs or tags related to detransition kinks, feeder/fedee content, ddlg/age regression/ageplay, or incest.

information about tagging system and kink talk below the cut!

i will sometimes post about intox (almost exclusively weed), somno, and cnc. when i do, i will tag them as "intox //" "somno //" and "cnc //". block as needed.

all original posts tagged "tieftail.txt"

other things you're likely to see here, in no particular order: general d/s shenanigans from both sides (things i want to do tagged as "my turn" and things i want done to me tagged as "pleaseee"), lots of oral, cum talk, marking, some vague petplay, worship/divinity kink, shibari/restraints, some public fantasies/voyeurism, overstim, penetrative sex

things i'm not personally into: ddlg and all its variants including use of the term daddy and mommy, medfet, hard injury/gore, anything beyond light/teasing stuff as far as degradation goes, non-cum bodily fluids, pregnancy, feet, knifeplay. i feel like the term "hard cnc" means noothing lmao but i personally don't like use of the term r4pe and tend to hold a personal cutoff there in terms of stuff i want to see.

if something isn't on here, don't assume i'm into it, assume i forgot to put it on this list- my memory is awful

[altschmerzes]

First Sentences Game!

tagged by @disappearinginq (thank youuuu!!!)

Rules: share the first lines of ten of your most recent fanfics and tag ten people. If you have written less than ten, don’t be shy and share anyway.

putting the rest of this under a cut so it’s not a huge long post! decided to take a leaf out of disappearinginq’s book and use only WIPs that haven’t been posted yet so >:) enjoy. we got 4 ted lasso fics, 2 9-1-1 fics, 2 locked tomb fics, 1 now you see me fic, 1 flashpoint fic, and 1 ffxv fic. yes that adds up to 11. it’s a surprise.

i have included the opening...... Couple Of Paragraphs. Or for these lmao because as always with me, i cannot help it and it is longer than intended.

tagging some folks up front no pressure but if you want an excuse to share your stories or brag on yourself this is your cue. i dont think it matters if it’s posted fics or wips - @heavensenthale @appalachianapologies @bold-and-nosy @nativestarwrites @impossiblepluto @roguelibrarian (and anyone compelled to do this who can go ahead and take this as a sign to say i tagged you and Do It)

1. Love Stuck - ted lasso

the aromantic jamie tartt fic. jamie realizes he’s aro, and this becomes a study of his and keeley’s post-breakup friendship and how aromanticism can open doors and allow for more freedom and personal choice in relationships for non-aro people too.

The only warning that Keeley gets before Jamie shows up at her house is a text message that she knows he sent by voice-to-text because of its use of capital letters and the complete lack of emojis. It announces his imminent arrival and apologizes for the lack of warning, explaining that he forgot to do that until he was almost there, all in one long, run-on sentence without punctuation. She has just enough time to grab a cardigan, because she’d been getting kind of chilly anyway, and pause the episode of Sex and the City she had been watching before he’s ringing the doorbell.

When Keeley opens the door, Jamie bypasses any kind of perhaps typically-expected greeting. While this isn’t exactly unusual for him, what he says is.

“I’ve got great news,” he tells her, smiling like he really does have great news, which helps to somewhat offset the sense of foreboding she’d been starting to feel. “I am not in love with you. Can I come in?”

2. Wriggle Up On Dry Land - ted lasso

au where everything is pretty much the same except for the part where jamie is the fifteen year old groundskeeper’s assistant who works part-time at nelson road. proceeds approximately through the timelines/events of seasons 1 and 2 (and maybe 3 depending on how that goes).

At this point, Ted has been in England for less than forty-eight hours, he’s slept for somehow both too many and not enough of those hours, and people keep saying things to him that are ostensibly in English but have no coherent meaning he can wring from his exhausted, jet lagged brain. This, he thinks, is a reasonable explanation for why it takes him several moments to process what he’s seeing when he reaches the coaching office.

One hand loosely gripping the strap of his backpack, the other holding out his keys in preparation to unlock the office, Ted stands there for a long time and blinks. The office does not need unlocking, it turns out, because the door is already open. The door is already open, and there’s what appears to be a kid crouching next to it, doing… something to the lowest hinge with a screwdriver. The boy glances up when Ted approaches, but makes no direct acknowledgement of him and goes immediately back to whatever he’s doing with the tool.

Now. On the one hand, this is a teenager Ted has never seen before and he is messing with the door of the head coaching office. That feels like bad news. On the other hand, he is wearing a grey zippered jacket with the Richmond logo on one lapel and STAFF embroidered underneath it in cursive. That, and his non-reaction to Ted catching him mid-potential-mischief, seems to indicate maybe this whole situation is above board after all.

“Uh,” Ted says after the silent pause has gone on long enough that he officially feels like he’s being rude. “Good morning?”

3. the bus curse 5+1 - ted lasso

Five Times The Curse Of The AFC Richmond Away Game Post-Game Bus Ride Home (Mostly Referred To Simply As 'The Bus Curse' For Conservation Of Time) Ruined The Night And One Time It Tried To But Couldn’t. tl;dr bus is haunted (roy voice It Is Not) (for fun and profit the chapter titles for this are ‘twitter’ ‘illness’ ‘the heavy existential burden of captaincy’ ‘nightmare’ ‘injury’ and ‘double birthday’)

The most important thing to understand about The Curse Of The AFC Richmond Away Game Post-Game Bus Ride Home (mostly referred to as ‘the bus curse’ for conservation of time) is that it doesn’t fucking exist.

Roy is fully ready and willing to die on this hill and go to his grave still swearing up and down that the ‘curse’ is superstitious bullshit, just like the one on the training room. Sure, he’s experienced two flat tires and a radiator overheating on the way home with Richmond, which never happened with any previous team, but that’s probably because management always hired the cheapest charter possible. Sure, the driver once stopped off for petrol and simply never came back from inside the station, but that’s because the bloke apparently had some kind of epiphany and decided to radically change his life, not because of the bus itself. Sure, there have been some dozen-odd other assortment of events ranging from inconveniences to calamities that have disrupted specifically the return bus journey from away matches, but there are explanations for all of them, none of which involve any kind of curse.

4. Never Been In Love - 9-1-1

the aromantic evan buckley fic. buck has a very rocky time coming to terms with being aro, and then telling everyone about it. ft internalized arophobia, romance repulsion, found family, the power of queer friendship, and the way the episode with red the retired firefighter was the perfect set-up for an aro character realization but of course they’d never go there.

The thing about dates is that, theoretically, at some point they are supposed to go well. And it’s not like Buck’s never been on dates that he has fun on. He has! A lot of them, actually! He’s a people person, he always has been, he likes spending time around others and spending time one-on-one is extra nice - it feels nice to bask in the attention and to focus his attention solely on someone else for a while. However, there always comes a point where the woman Buck is out with starts blatantly flirting and he knows he needs to flirt back, or he just… remembers that he’s out on a date and not just hanging out with a cool person he wants to get to know better, and it all goes sour.

The end of it is, even when Buck’s dates go well, they don’t. The mere fact that they’re dates is enough to thoroughly ruin the experience, either in the moment or in hindsight, particularly once there’s an expectation that there are going to be more dates and, at some point, a relationship. And that… Buck really just doesn’t know what to do with that.

5. One-Way Mirror - now you see me

oneshot set between movies 1 and 2 that gets at explaining some of the shifts in character dynamics and digs into what it would be like for dylan to mesh with the team when they were already a team and he was on the outside. lot of focus on what happened to create such a faith in him from jack specifically.

The nice thing about setting yourself up to look like the lawman who got duped by a team of criminals just a little too smart for him is that, when you announce your intention to take a sabbatical, nobody really asks too many questions. Dylan must have played his role effectively, because not an eyelid is bat when the Agent who got too invested in fugitives that ultimately eluded him decides to take off for a while. He has the leave accrued, it’s a matter of putting in the paperwork. Fuller is a little concerned but Evans waves it through with barely a thought. Cowan swans around the office dripping smug satisfaction, and Dylan keeps his head down and swallows it.

He goes to France to visit Alma first. While things are still white-hot in the fallout of the case, the Horsemen are laying low in the area. They’ll take off for a house the Eye has arranged soon enough, but in the handful of days intervening Dylan gets on a plane to Paris. Alma deserves some answers after everything she went through on this case with him, and if it means he’s going to get arrested after all, well, so be it. The others are set up, they’ll be okay.

6. untitled fic about mercymorn and augustine in a doc labeled ‘rotates them’ - the locked tomb series

this is simply me losing my mind about this dynamic, getting somewhat at how they came up with the plan they attempted to enact in ht9.

“Do you love your brother?”

Augustine stops in his tracks, facing away from her. His body twitches in a horrid, disarticulated little spasm, like a marionette that’s been electrocuted. The question has hurt him, and she can tell.

Good, Mercymorn thinks. Pain sharpens the senses.

“How dare you ask me that.”

Mercymorn does not back down. For one thing, she does not, as a rule, back down. Ever. For another, she’d caught up to him here and brought up the subject for a reason, and it isn’t just to torment him with it.

7. One Right Move - flashpoint

time loop of the episode one wrong move where lou young died. spike relives his best friend’s death over and over and over until he can figure out how to make it stop.

This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends.

This is the way the worst day of Michaelangelo Scarlatti’s life ends - not with a bang, but with the echo of one.

Explosions have not been an unusual occurrence in Spike’s world to date. Moments of ground-shaking thunder and fire have come and gone for him the way a lawyer conducts depositions or a surgeon draws a dotted line indicating where they plan to cut - something that is an incomprehensible oddity to those outside the profession, but as familiar as the tree on the corner of the street you drive down every day to those inside it. While the detonation of a bomb may be the worst or most shocking thing to happen in the life of just about any random person you grabbed off the street, it’s Tuesday for Spike. Even when they go bad, they still ultimately go. He doesn’t spend hours reliving them after the smoke has cleared.

This time, he does. Laying on his side on the couch in Greg’s living room, the moment that mine went off replays again and again. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if he’s imagining it or if something is still actually exploding, because Spike can still feel himself shaking from the percussive force. Or maybe shaking from something else. It’s hard to tell, now, in this diluted, slipping evening that doesn’t feel remotely real.

8. Can’t Grow A Proper Branch - 9-1-1

5+1 of five times someone got one of the pieces indicating that buck’s childhood and family were Really Fucking Bad and one time he just straight out told someone.

Man plans and God laughs.

When Bobby was growing up, the Nash family’s next door neighbor had been a Rabbi and his wife whose older daughter had been his age. Often, when his parents were working late, Bobby would end up at the Rose house, playing with Sarah Rose or doing homework with her at the kitchen table under Rabbi Rose’s quiet supervision. Man plans and God laughs. A Yiddish proverb Rabbi Rose had been fond of. Even though it’s been decades since he’d lived in the house in St. Paul next door to the Roses, decades since he’d last spoken to the man at all, the phrase he’d used so often still pops into Bobby’s head sometimes. It even makes its way out of his mouth now and then.

From the moment they meet, it feels to Bobby like Evan Buckley is God laughing at his plans.

9. Game Over. Try Again? - final fantasy xv

the first time noctis had to use a phoenix down on each of his friends. exploring game resurrection mechanics from a narrative standpoint.

Gladio has been twenty years old for all of nine days when he dies in an assassination attempt that leaves Noctis without a scratch. It all happens so quickly that there’s no time to feel the energy in the air change before the shooting starts.

A second before the first bullet shatters what had been a perfectly fine, unremarkable afternoon, Gladio’s hand closes around Noctis’s arm, the other plants in the square centre of his back, and he’s being shoved so hard it propels him several feet forward. He’s all ready to be pissed, to whirl around and demand that the big dumb bastard explain what, precisely, his issue is when a chunk of concrete explodes from the waist-high wall he’s landed behind. Noctis isn’t really sure what he thinks is happening at first, but ‘someone is shooting bullets at me because they are trying very hard to kill me’ is not it.

10. baby heist au - ted lasso

the one where bex decides to leave rupert, rebecca decides to help her, an extremely unlikely friendship forms, and i cast spell of ‘hold a baby’ on the entire richmond greyhounds roster.

The first thing that enters Rebecca’s mind when she gets the initial message is suspicion. She stares at her mobile, squinting at the text from the number - unattached to anyone in her address book - and trying to piece together who it could possibly be from.

Hello Rebecca. I was wondering if you might have time for a coffee and a chat soon. I have something I’d really like to discuss with you.

It came through just as she was walking to her desk upon first arriving at the office, and caught her so off-guard that she’s still standing there in the middle of the room looking at the screen when the second message arrives.

Oh, this is Bex by the way. Bex Harper.

A third, not a moment later.

Well. Bex Mannion I guess.

bonus 11. baby heist au 2: 2 heist, 2 baby - the locked tomb series

modern au (i know, but bear with me) where it’s like pov. you are ortus nigenad. you are in your very early twenties. you have come to the unfortunate realization that you are in a cult and you have Fucking Snapped and you cannot be here one more moment longer. on your way out, you decided to take a pair of toddlers with you. pov. you are abigail pent. you are a professor and you live with your husband in the top floor of a duplex. a young man with a pair of little girls just moved in downstairs, and you’ve got the feeling there’s something Going On with them.

The bottom unit of the building has been empty since before Abigail moved into the upstairs of the duplex on Primis Street. She’s never met the person who owns it, and so there has never been an opportunity to ask after this curiosity, despite her desire to know if there was a reason for it. Magnus tells her that it’s probably just not a keenly desired neighbourhood, especially for the university demographic comprising most of their area, but still she has always wondered.

When someone does move into it, Abigail doesn’t notice at first. It’s such a shock the first time she hears a sound and looks out of her unit just in time to see the downstairs door close behind someone that she nearly calls after him on the spot. She manages to repress the instinct, but she calls Magnus immediately upon going back inside.

“What? Since when?” he asks when Abigail tells him they’ve finally got neighbours.

“I haven’t the faintest idea! I just saw him coming home. Didn’t see much, just the door closing behind him, but I think he’s young. There’s not even a car out front! It’s all quite mysterious.”

Things do not clear up from there, especially not once Abigail catches her first glimpse of the children.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

WORKING ON IT AS WE SPEAK o7

LMAO someone upgrade galvantula to a pseudo legendary rn LMFAO Reo being like “yeah feel my pain” wait speaking of legendaries kinda have you ever considered any legendary encounters happening within pursuit au? I completely forgot they existed ngl LOL

OHHH the puzzle pieces are all coming together no bfb for Rin it’s ok he can have his happy ending in the many works swimming in his tag

Oh wait wtf you’re right LMAO Isagi doesn’t really give me old vibes?? Or maybe that’s because I just don’t think about him oops wait it is kinda funny how he’s older than almost all of the second years LOL I could be wrong but I think the only one is Kunigami?

HAHA tullias a girls girl she’s slandering otoya on behalf of the female population LMAOO garchomp saving karasus ass is so funny id imagine it’s a mix between mother hen and reckless hype man like it thinks karasus cool and doesn’t mind as much but is still sweat dropping everything Karasu picks a fight

LMAOOO truly matching the yarou vibe wait the love triangle dynamic where Isagi pushes her away at first to make her happy and it ends up working until Barou dies and then reconnecting ooooh the plot is so juicy

YEAHH we’ve now got fully evolved Karasu LMAO wait a daycare nurse and Karasu being a dumbass faking injuries to give him an excuse that fits so well with loser Karasu behavior omg lucario deadpanning and letting out the fakest whimper/“ow” while limply holding its paw out (pursuit reader playing passive wingman otoya and aiku being in stable relationships before Karasu is brutal though LMAOO)

FR team v Reo where he had some dynamic with zantetsu too >>>> so funny and imo much more enjoyable than Emo breakup Reo somehow Barou being clueless just adds even more to his charm ugh I think I’d also melt away if Karasu did that he totally would do the whole interlacing fingers thing shekejsiwjsj

LMFAO NAGIS METHOD HAS ME CRYING real though but hiori fr pulling all the shots when he actually finds someone >>>> maybe it stems from the parental trauma he has and how he struggled with finding out that everything they’d done for him wasn’t really out of love for HIM so when he does it he goes above and beyond to try and show that he actually does love someone also ill trust you’ll cook with this!! I was also imagining something kinda on the serious side i forgot to mention i think my only preference is that it doesn’t end in full on angst because I’ve not entered that mindset yet after all the crack LMAOO when i was reading your thoughts on hollyhock ending i was going through it BUT if you feel like crack or even angst works better feel free! Anything to make another Mira masterpiece o7 I was also actually considering throwing yuki in the ring but couldn’t come up with anything that spoke to me at the time oops

Ok I kinda merged my response to this in an earlier section but this is like top tier kdrama content the DEVELOPMENT >>>> your Isagi is sm more interesting too I like all the complexities with his insecurities and whatnot it’s a big refreshing contrast from canon Isagi LMAO yayoi and Isagi slowly working through the trauma of barous death and rekindling their love shehsksishsb

LMAOOO I see the vision I think it’s just so funny considering that I think spike also has some moments where he’s like “ugh I feel like the dumb little sidekick” LMFAO Tullia being fluttershy fits so well with the breeder concept KARASU APPLEJACK REAL even with the accent LMAO chigiri rainbow yup yup and Reo is so rarity from the colors to that “fabulous” aura wait iirc twilight has some moments where she’s like “pinkie pie get your shit together” guys MLP parallel????

KARASU NATION EXPANDING UNDER CEO MIRA BUT FR!!! Feeding the bllk and jjk nation time to spread around miralations!! Also STOPPSJSHSJSJS bro I thought about sending in one for Karasu but I was like maybe I’ve given him too much love lately esp with my request spiraling into fwtkac…but also from what you’ve said about your current inbox I figured Karasu nation had conglomerated around your blog and that someone would pull through so I didn’t wanna flood the event with Karasu (imagine THREE Karasu works that 25% of the whole thing LMAO but I fr saw the chinchou one and was like “thank god someone pulled through and requested him too”) but WAITTTTTT LOVE TRIANGLE WITH KUNIGAMI???? That literally checks off boxes you were just talking about not having written Kunigami ever also ISAGI REQUEST CAME TJROIGH LMFAOAOO yk I was lowk considering requesting a duo type because it looked kinda plain at first just being a horsea (no offense to horsea I love it) but I couldn’t think of a good enough pairing (u think I was only considering fairy but Wb is already that trope) so I was just like “I’ll leave the artistic freedom to Mira” LMAO

Ok wait speaking of I checked the team so far and straight up thought arctibax and scovillain were fakemon SHSHSHSHS I fr thought wait kyurems also ice dragon whyd they make a fake one ITS NOT FAKE I had to look it up to realize it’s one of the latest gens pokemon omg

HAHAHA omg two sae requests though too im crying two saes a Kaiser and Nagi nowhere to be seen SHSHSH

- Karasu anon

HAHAH okay ykw that reminds me of…when i originally originally had the idea for this story reader had a hydreigon as her starter and it was unrelated to barou’s team and barou was not possessed he just worked for the evil team and was her half brother who she didn’t know about!! LOWKEY a hydreigon would go insane as a starter for reader icl (it’s one of my fav pokémon)…but houndoom…I’M WAVERING AHHDDJKSKS if we went the hydreigon route i’d change dragalge to smth else as well because no need for two dragon types BUT reader’s current team is so iconic 😭 but hydreigon…but then we wouldn’t have the arcanine/houndoom parallels…but we WOULD have goodra/hydreigon parallels and lowkey nagi with a goomy as his starter goes hard…and the final fight would make even more sense because dragon is super effective against dragon so hydreigon vs hydreigon makes more sense than houndoom vs houndoom…and reader’s gyarados can still mega evolve so maybe barou gives her the keystone instead of the mega stone…but the hydreigon line can’t learn the move pursuit…AHHHHH

yeah fr rin has too many happy endings already he’ll be okay just this once (him not existing in pursuit is also so funny to me like he and sae genuinely don’t even APPEAR even kaiser’s references as another e4 candidate but the itoshis are straight up nonexistent)…i think isagi gives young vibes because he’s short LMAOAAO like i thought he was younger than rin until the anime states rin is a year younger FJFJSJS

tullia fr getting reparations for the many women otoya has wronged by absolutely embarrassing him 🤩 that’s why she’s a queen…no 100% like garchomp is always down to do what karasu wants but sometimes he raises an eyebrow at him LMAOO like “you want to put ME out against this fuck ass kid just because his raticate knows thunder fang???” (idk if raticate can learn thunder fang but ykwim) karasu just going absolutely nuclear on all electric types because he’s so traumatized from them and tossing out garchomp when it’s obviously not necessary LMAOAAO

THE PLOT IS SO GOOD the bayosagi edits that could be made…okay i attempted to diagram what yayoi’s fuck ass pokémon trainer haircut would be so i’ll add that in!! ft a silly quote because is it even a mira diagram without some random unrelated comment included 😭 speaking of which someone reblogged the barou funeral invite so now random people are seeing it LMSOAOAOA with 0 context too i’m crying i wonder what they think of me now

karasu finally reaching his final form and finding peace we LOVE to see it LMAOAOA no his lucario is so done with him i think of all his pokémon it’s the only one that never settles fully into the peaceful life given that it’s a fighting type…lowkey maybe he lends it to hiori and hiori lends him his nidoqueen or smth so that way lucario can still be busy on patrol and have fun working whereas nidoqueen has a bunch of babies to look after since she can’t have any herself (apparently nidorina and nidoqueen can’t have eggs??) nidoqueen and garchomp platonic soulmates era perhaps ⁉️ and omg pursuit reader isn’t even wingmanning she’s bullying him 😭 WAIT AS A MIRAVERSE MULTIVERSE MOMENT WE COULD HAVE AIKU PULL UP AS A WINGMAN DIFJSKSNSN no because karasu getting in a relationship after otoya and aiku is insane work i fear but so so funny

i agree i think it comes from hiori’s specific childhood!! like he was so devoid of love in the past that he does everything he can to ensure the people he loves never feel that from him…but at the same time he doesn’t really quite know how to express that so we get these ridiculous scenarios of him just being lowkey insane about his love interests LMAOAOA okay but listen nagi waking up to make pancakes for is basically a marriage proposal from him or like him baking cookies with reo for you…he’s a simple guy JFKDKSKS just be happy w what you get 😔 omg wait yuki would’ve been so fun agreed though idk what tropes he could’ve worked for…side note coming up with 18 tropes was HARD i was fr struggling and putting random stuff for some of them 😭

HAHA YESS THAT’S WHY I PICKED THEM lowkey otoya def has those vibes though like reader and karasu have deep stories with trauma and their siblings as well as super strong teams, tullia has a vision for her life and the team to accomplish it, meanwhile otoya and his cutesy pokémon are just chilling i KNOW he crashes out when he everyone’s training (throw in mc trio too) like maybe there’s an arc where they have a tournament with one pokémon each and karasu uses his garchomp, tullia throws out infernape, reo uses gallade, chigiri uses dragonite, nagi pulls up with goodra, reader picks gyarados, and otoya has SYLVEON 😭 the funniest thing is every single one of those pokémon is weak to fairy except gyarados so otoya actually makes it to the final round before reader and gyarados beat him 😩

you know what the funniest thing is…the person who requested barou also requested a tabieita love triangle and said they didn’t care who was endgame so we could’ve had 33% karasu content LMAOOO i limited requests to one per person though (considering the event’s been out for barely even a day and i only have 3 spots left that was def the right choice) and decided to go w barou to spread the love…only on this blog is karasu the most popular character DKFHDIDJSJ i always forget he’s actually a rare/underrated fav elsewhere because all of karasu nation is gathered her so in my perception he’s popular because i always have karasu requests and he’s always winning the polls (or coming second place) over much more popular characters 😭😭😭 THE KUNIGAMI SECOND LEAD HAS ME SOOOOO HYPED OMG IT’S GOING TO BE SO FUN especially him as a second lead to karasu??? BRUTAL tbh idk if people understood that when i said love triangle and pick a second lead i didn’t mean threesome/throuple i meant second lead gets their heartbroken but oh well #yolo 🤩 HELP THE ISAGI ONE IS ACTUALLY SO FUNNY IDM it’s from a silly mutual of mine and she wanted it to be where reader keeps trying to confess her feelings to isagi and isagi’s just like “haha…nice…” so like reader’s feelings are the unrequited ones but without too much angst and honestly i just think that that’s such a funny concept that i’m excited to write it even though it’s ISAGI

HELP I GOT THAT AND I WAS LIKE WTF IS THAT ⁉️ and the person who requested for barou just gave me a type combo not an actual pokémon (actually a lot of people did that ig i didn’t explain well enough 😓) so i had to find a fire/grass type myself and that’s the ONLY one but yeah idk any pokémon after gen vi and a COUPLE gen vii ones

BRO I’M FR SOBBING TWO SAES, KAISER, ISAGI, AND ZEROOOOO NAGI 🧐⁉️ at least karasu and hiori are there…also reo omg i’m so excited to write for him 😄 the reo requester said either hiori or reo but since you had already sent hiori in i was like REO TIME and then the person who requested the abomasnow for sae (they actually also requested wrong but what they MEANT was abomasnow) said i could do reo or sae for it and as much as i wanted to do reo again i thought ice + fairy (angst + childhood friends) and ice + grass (angst + relationship of convenience) might be too similar so i was like ok…sae it is…KFJDJDJS wait you’d be interested to know that i actually got another request for alolan ninetales!! the person who sent in chinchou for karasu said either that or alolan ninetales for ness and well…you know who i’d pick in every universe and who i’d pick in none /j (although that trope for ness lowkey would go crazy but i’m not about to pass on KARASU especially love at first + miscommunications with him i’m sorry that is such a perfect combo of tropes for the man)…ykw at the end of the day nagi gets my long majestic stories he can share the love a bit…i’m surprised i haven’t gotten any rin entries!! but there’s still three spaces left so maybe i shouldn’t speak too soon 😓

wait unrelated but i was scrolling on the for you section of tumblr’s dash and i saw a list of bllk fic recs and i idly scrolled through tell me why SEABIRD was linked in the sae section??? that was the only one of my fics on the post (it was mostly for bigger characters that i don’t write for as much like kaiser, rin, etc) help i was so jumpscared and it wasn’t even a link to tumblr it was my ao3 page…yk it’s insane when it’s getting recommended on ao3 of all places 😭 seabird anon whoever they are fr cursing me with sae itoshism 😩 i’m like avidly a nagi karasu barou blog and reluctantly a sae one in the sense that i can never escape him…watch me end up liking him during season 2…JK HE CAN NEVER TOP BAROU LET ALONE KARASU LET ALONE NAGIIIIII LMAOAOAAO (feel free to laugh at me if i change my tune in the future)

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Knife

Relationship: Bucky Barnes x Reader Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, fingering, knifeplay/knife kink, dirty talk, slight degradation, slight metal arm kink, definite finger and hand kink - 18+, minors DNI Summary: Seeing Bucky casually flip and twirl knives really does something for you. And he happily indulges the fantasy. A/N: Alright I’ve never really written a bit of any kind of particular kink but I mean, come on, of course I had to try. I am super aware this is not the most original idea but I still wanted to add my take on it. p.s. i forgot to do an initial tag list portion on this because i am not used to having one but i will fix that for the next lmao i am sorry

Masterlist

You thought you were going to explode as you walked into the kitchen. Standing in the middle there was Bucky mindlessly flipping one of the knives in his hand — of course, it had to be the metal hand — as he cooked dinner, watching the food simmer away.

He looked so casual as he lingered at the stove, twirling the knife between his fingers. He was doing little tricks, tossing it in the air and catching the handle of it perfectly. It was just so effortless — and made you unbelievably wet.

Truly, this wasn’t a super uncommon thing to come home to. As some people bit their nails or played with the ends of their hair, Bucky twirled kitchen knives. While a habit you’ve now come to… appreciate, it certainly startled you the first time he did it. He had thought nothing of it, much like the position he was in now, as he played around with the knife. While the naturalness of his motions was quite a sad habit he had been forced to pick up, he seemed more comfortable with it. Almost treating it like some special talent or party trick. As for you, it was just a fucking turn-on.

You couldn’t pull your eyes away from the knife and your boyfriend’s moving hand as you slipped off your shoes. You placed your purse down gently, slipping off your coat. Bucky turned around as he heard your movement.

"Hey, doll," he greeted you with a warm smile, the knife not stilling. He never missed a beat.

Your words were losing you as you watched him keep up his motions but now he leaned against the kitchen counter, across from you. You had apparently been hypnotized in the motions because Bucky was giving you an odd look, eventually breaking you out of your phase as he asked, "Are you okay?"

You blinked in surprise, forcing your eyes away from the weapon and to his beautiful, concerned face. You gave a small smile. "Yeah, sorry," you chuckled, walking over to the stove to inspect what was on the menu. "Long day," you added, waving a hand in dismissal.

"Yeah?" He hummed. "Something got your mind occupied?"

You picked up a spoon to stir around the vegetables. You were about to respond, trying to shake off your initial feelings when a body was suddenly pressed against your back. You gasped at him, at the surprising force he possessed. He practically towered over you. His breath was heavy as he leaned down, his lips just grazing over your skin. One hand suddenly came to your hip while the other, holding the knife still now, pressed the side of it to your skin. You just about jumped at the sudden action.

"I-I’m fine," you mumbled, trying to ignore the cool metal pressing to your hot skin. Trying to ignore how it went directly to your core. Trying to ignore the god damn wetness pooling —

"What’s got you worked up, baby?" Bucky asked. You could pretty much hear the fake frown he wore, acting all innocent. While you two had never talked about any sort of weapon play, or really many kinks to begin with, he must have seen the lust encompassing your eyes.

As he waited for an answer, Bucky trailed the side of the knife up and down your arm, cautiously and slowly, letting the metal cool you. His other hand gripped your hip tighter. You let out a sigh at his touches, unable to really keep yourself together anymore.

"It’s- It’s the-," you lost your train of thought as Bucky’s free hand came up under your shirt, caressing your side gently. He moved the knife to begin tracing your collarbones obvious by that little bit of neckline skin peeking out from your blouse. It was surprising but earned him a moan from your lips. Bucky chuckled darkly, placing a soft kiss on your neck.

"It’s the knife, isn’t it?" He asked, finishing your sentence for you. There was just a hint of mocking in his tone which didn’t help the wetness still forming between your thighs.

Weakly and just as pathetically, you nodded. It was all you could do — you couldn’t trust your voice.

Bucky seemed to like that as he began pressing on. The hand under your shirt slowly made its way down your torso to the buttoning of your jeans. He popped them free and wasted no time dipping two fingers into you. You yelped at intrusion while he moaned at the wetness soaking his fingers. He pumped them steadily, making little flicking motions every now and then.

The knife on the other hand was still near your neck, making weak little traces, being dragged over your hot skin. Nothing was enough to hurt you and Bucky was sure skilled with quick reflexes, always prepared for the little jolts your body gave as he continued fingering you.

"So wet for me," Bucky mumbled, picking up the thrusting of his fingers. "And all from me twirling a knife. How pathetic, don’t you think? It’s a knife, doll. A weapon. Could slice through anything and yet it turns you on?"

You let out a small whimper as he forced you to fully press against him. Your bodies were practically cemented together. You felt him getting hard making you so desperately want to help him out but there was no way out of this. Your mind was a daze as he never let up with fingering you. The coolness from the knife still rested on your skin sending shameless shivers across your body.

Your orgasm was building up now as his motions picked up. Without much warning, he decided to add his thumb to mix, moving in tight circles on your clit. That forced a surprise moan from you, making Bucky chuckle.

"F-Feels so good," you mumbled, your eyes fluttering close as you leaned your head back to rest it on Bucky’s shoulder.

Exposing more skin for his access, his lips attached to your neck, kissing and nipping at it. The knife now began moving slowly, delicately, down the valley of your breasts and to the rest of your torso. You groaned at the movement, the scandalousness of it. The absolute danger this held but the total trust you had in Bucky.

"Yeah?" Bucky hummed. "What feels good? My fingers?" he gave a rough thrust for emphasis making you jolt. "Or the knife?" The weapon stopped just above where his hands were disappearing into your jeans. You weakly lifted your head and glanced down, really seeing now the sudden contrast between his loving fingers and the haunting knife. It made you nearly lose your mind as you let out a groan, feeling your orgasm just approaching.

"Hmm," Bucky hummed, following your gaze. He seemed to pick up words where you were failing. "I think it’s the knife. I think my dirty girl likes the danger. Likes seeing me handle it. Right, doll? Isn’t that it? That’s what got you soaking my fucking hand?"

You gasped at his words. They were just doing enough for you, borderline too much. You wanted to practically thrust away but that was not happening.

"B-Bucky-," you whimpered. You were right on that edge and Bucky knew it as he picked up the motions. The pressure on your clit from his thumb movements got stronger as his pumping didn’t let up.

"Come on, doll," Bucky’s voice had dropped, almost panting behind you. He was fully turned on but completely consumed with you. "Cum for me, honey." His arms were just barely keeping you standing. Without him, you were crumbling.

Determined to get you just there, Bucky pressed the tip of the knife to your lower stomach. It didn’t do any harm but the action was just thrilling enough that you couldn’t stop yourself. Your orgasm plunged through you as you let out screams full of Bucky’s name and incomprehensible moans.

Your boyfriend was chuckling lowly watching you squirm under his touch. He threw the knife on the counter, fully gripping your hip with his now free metal hand as his fingers and thumb continued working you through the pleasure.

"Please, Bucky — " you groaned, "Too — Too much."

He gave a couple of last pumps, letting your wetness totally coat him, before removing his hand from your pants. You nearly fell forward but Bucky was quick to grab you. As you caught your breath, he went back to planting sweet kisses along your neck.

"That’s it, doll," he mumbled against your skin. "So good for me. So dirty, baby. Getting turned on from my knife…" He let out breathy laughs as you pulled yourself out of your dazed, orgasmic state.

"Don’t-," you chuckled, shaking your head. You were finally thinking clearly again, almost embarrassed by how far you had succumbed to him. All because of a fucking knife.

"Don’t what?" His hands left your body, allowing you to readjust to your regular standing position. As if nothing happened, you turned back to the food still cooking away — luckily not burned. But Bucky wasn’t quick to leave this alone. "Don’t talk about how my girl has a knife kink?"

You gasped, "Bucky!" You shot him a look as he went back to leaning against the counter. His arms were folded, looking so cocky and proud now. That flirty grin was playing his lips as his eyes raked over you, shamelessly. You could still see his erection poking through his pants but you opted to ignore it, turning back to the food. He wasn’t getting anything now if he was going to tease you about what had just happened.

"Why didn’t you tell me, doll?" Bucky finally asked, sounding much nicer.

You refused to look at him again. Your eyes were set on the sautéed vegetables. "It’s just… I don’t know. Figured you’d find it weird or something."

Bucky sighed. A metal hand came to your arm, rubbing gently. "Never think that, honey. I love exploring this stuff with you. I gotta know what my girl likes if I wanna keep her happy, right?" You could tell he was smiling widely at you. His words were making you blush uncontrollably.

You nodded, "I’ll try to remember that."

"Good," Bucky said as he came up behind you again. The motion too familiar from just seconds ago. "Now… Is there any other things that you like I should know about?"

A shiver went down your spine. You glanced at the metal hand laying softly on your hip. "I do wonder about your arm."

"My arm?"

"Mhm," you confirmed. "I wonder if it vibrates."

Bucky let out the wildest, deepest groan. "You’re going to be the death of me."

[nelavili]

I'm still processing Season 6 and as an unpopular opinion I'm not too happy about it as a whole. I feel horrible for not enjoying it as much as the Cast/Crew would like me to, but I just can’t change this feeling I have.

Just to clear my head I'll write the things down that irked me. I don't want to start any discussion, they're only my thoughts on stuff ‘n thangs. Huge spoilers ahead, please don’t read if you haven’t watched.

Michael

I admit it, I have probably more sympathy for the bad twin than I should. And after the whole S5 I thought we get a bit more closure with him. I didn’t expect a redemption arc, after Michael killed Remiel, Dan and Chloe it would have felt wrong. But after the “Everyone deserves a second chance” the dude is down in hell, scrubbing the floor with a toothbrush. Really, Lucifer? That’s cruel after such a righteous line.

When Luci realized he could help everyone, even if he hated them, I hoped for a dive into the twins’ relationship but it was like Michael didn’t even existed anymore. And if someone needed therapy it would be the twin with the huge inferior complex. That could have been so interesting. (I had hoped that he'd sat on the couch at the end, but noooo we get the Frenchman.. such a disappointment.)

Maybe Tom Ellis didn’t want to play 2 roles again, or there was no time, but I feel that was a huge opportunity wasted.

What even was the plan of Michael? To get God to retire and wreck havoc on earth to get Dad back, so Mickey can take over as the new God? And then what? Wipe out humanity? I see no endgame here.

Ella

I liked Ella’s Story so far. But she stole the personal file of Carol and even broke into his house.. and everybody is cool with this? Carol might be crushing on Ella pretty hard but if somebody tells you they broke into your house, because they feared you were hiding something bad, You run for the hills. But the dude isn’t even phased.

I’m glad Carol is a good guy, though. Even if he’s kind of bland.

Ella finding out the truth on her own came out of nowhere. I would have found it better if they would have her act a little suspicious over the whole S5. But since they wrote S6 while S5 was shot, a little to late for this.

The scene at the wedding was amazing. I had so much fun with her outburst there.

Dan

Ghost!Dan was my favorite by far in this season. And I really liked how he wanted to help and tried to find out what he still felt guilty about.

I am so glad he got to spend his afterlife with Charlotte and I laughed so hard with the pudding. Didn’t expect that, in a positive matter. :D

The scene with Trixie killed me. Bawled so hard as soon as Kevin got teary eyes. That really gripped at my heartstrings.

But how could he go to heaven while in a body of a killer when his daughter stands right next to that killer?

Comedy-wise Dan is top notch

Trixie

I missed her so much.

It felt like she was an afterthought with everything. She recently lost her Dad and Chloe spends most of the time with Lucifer. I really missed the scenes with her and Luci, they always were so adorable.

They explain it later that she’s at a science camp, but I honestly thought Chloe chooses Lucifer (and later Rory too) over her.

She wasn’t at Chloe’s deathbed but here I’m not sure if the scene with Rory isn’t placed somewhere at the threshold to heaven where only celestials are able to enter. But if she wasn’t there because Chloe sidelined her in favor of Rory, then I can understand her absence.

Linda

I love Linda, she always gives good advice but nobody’s ever took it.

Her book probably would fly under the fantasy tag if she ever published it. Still, it felt cringey.

It was so sad that she thought she was a bad therapist.

Apparently she wants to keep helping celestials because it’s better than helping humans. In the end, celestials have the same problems as humans just on a bigger scale. But okay.

Amenadiel

Amenacop was good, and a nice nod to Dan who put in the application.

It made him realize that he only can change things when he has more power. I’m white and no american so I don’t know if the BLM theme there was well enough executed. Got me wondering.

The apocalypse just being Angels who are incompetent was a letdown. Like this whole season.

I really like him as god. And I am glad he took the position in the end. Even if he could have decided this a bit earlier.

Rory

I like her sarcasm and her character.

Didn’t like the whole time travel, time loop and daughter spiel. I’m not a big fan of time travels or couples getting a kid just for the sake of a happy end or to add extra drama. I could have lived without a Deckerstar baby. Instead they could have focused on Trixie for a change.

The time she spent with Lucifer on the 4th August was precious though.

How in hell did the Frenchman capture her? How did he even know how she looked? IIRC Dan hasn’t seen Rory while in that body. Dan just went over to Trixie that’s why I thought he’d capture her and not Rory.

Lucifer

He found his calling to help the souls in hell only because Rory traveled back in time? No man, he already took the step with Jimmy Barnes in preparation to take over as god. I don’t think it’s far fetched to believe that he would have the same epiphany without Rory there.

But without Rory, he wouldn’t have been helping Ghost!Dan to go to heaven. Though, before Rory traveled back in time, Lucifer was already trying to help Dan. They probably would have needed more time to figure out about what Dan felt guilty about, but figure it out anyways.

How did he even got Chloe pregnant? Was it his subconscious deciding he was ready to be a father? Amenadiel had to believe that he was human to get Linda pregnant. Or maybe it’s because they always thought they couldn’t impregnate a human and self-actualized it that way. Anyways, it’s a tiny hang-up I have with it.

Somebody else besides me thought that the scene in the panic room was awkwardly long? I know they thought Lucifer would vanish somehow, but it seemed too much to me.

His singsong while the magician talked about the trick. :D

I don’t want to even get into the whole time loop thing because I think it’s ridiculous(ly bad).

It took a lot of time for him to realize that he didn’t want to be god, after he put it on hold for a second time. Even Chloe could have asked him if that is really what he wanted. Could have spared us an episode or so. Why is the communication on this show so bad? Q.Q

I loved that he helped Maze with Eve to get the wedding back on after their fight.

He didn’t say goodbye to Trixie  - again. What a nice step-devil..

It’s been Chloe, Rory and his family since he found out she’s his daughter. Not even mentioning the one kid who probably loved him before even Chloe fell for him.

For someone who is all about free will and led a rebellion against God for it, he was quick to accept that he has a “fate”. I thought he’d find another way, or at least try to. Nope, he just did what his child wanted. And they disguised it at his “choice”. Doesn’t look like a choice to me if your daughter begs you for it and you have to promise it. Just getting along with what your child wants.

Why does everyone need to shoot him? Just cut him until he bleeds. The Americans and their fixation on guns. Nice parallel to Chloe though.

Lucifer trying to fix the relationship to Rory with gifts was so cringey. I don’t know why but I couldn’t watch him sing/dance in that scene.

Both him and Amenadiel didn’t want to become like their Dad because of the reasons stated in S5, yet Lucifer exactly did. Another letdown.

 

Chloe

As soon as she knew Rory was her and Lucifer’s daughter it was all only about Lucifer and Rory. No thought of Trixie? I understand she was worried about being a bad mother to Rory, but come on, you’re being a bad mother to your first child right now.

She was ready to go to heaven with Lucifer. And Trixie does what exactly without her parents? Living with her Grandma because one of her parent died and the other one is abandoning her? It’s like the writers forgot about Trixie while forcing Rory on us.

The addiction to the necklace got old pretty fast.

And that whole fight against Lucifer felt unnecessary just to add more drama.

She gets mad at Lucifer for not telling her everything while not telling him that she went back to the LAPD. It’s Lucifer, he always has things on his plate. Double moral, pretty much.

She looked so gorgeous at the wedding, oh my god.

Most of the Deckerstar scenes were good. I got tired of the obvious naked cuddle times, surprisingly. Somehow it felt not like the ones in S5 and it bothered me.

I thought Chloe would finally get to know about everything Lucifer did for her, but I didn’t expect her to read it in Linda’s book. And that she only took away that he left her every time they had an emotional breakthrough.

They spend Lucifer’s last day at the beach and once again, no thought of Trixie. I’m sorry I repeat myself here so often. But this whole season wronged Trixie so much.

They face the baddie without any backup.  At least get Amenadiel with you.

Other things

The use of music between scenes was too much for me. Got annoying at some point.

I appreciate that they wanted to show us snippets of past Deckerstar scenes but here too, I felt like it was too much.

Couldn’t really follow the timeline. Maybe it were the cuts.

What’s been the point of bringing Adam into the mix? Just to wrap up Maze and Eve’s story? For Linda having another celestial to therapy?

The animation in the Jimmy Barnes Hell loop was AMAZING. I laughed so hard.

I’m not saying that Deckerstar shouldn’t have sacrificed everything for the time loop to stay intact, I say that the whole daughter-time travel plot shouldn’t have had happened. They never even talked about having kids, and then ignore the whole existence of the one kid that’s already there.

I really need all the Michaella fanfics, please. My first ship that’s actually a raft, because they never officially have met. RIP lmao

The acting was great as usual, all my problems come from the writing and the plot.

In the end, I really feel frustrated, underwhelmed and disappointed by the whole season. I didn’t have high expectations other than the same writing quality like S5. My excitement for that Season died as soon as Rory told Lucifer that she’s his daughter, to be honest. I waited for a plot twist that never came. Then the whole time loop shit.  I’d rather have waited one more year for S6 if the plot would have made more sense, since this felt like a first draft of a whole other show. And now I wished that S5 would have been the last season. If I could travel back in time, I’d rather not watch S6.

I can honestly live with the fact that Luci and Chloe are in hell, trying to help souls to get to heaven. (But hello, not the murderers perhaps? Or I want Michael sitting on that couch right now.) But the fact that both “chose” to sacrifice their time together with their family and friends just because it’s fate now and parents have to make sacrifices for their children; and anyways there’s an afterlife because (human) life is just a blip in our existence… nah thank you. I do not want it.

I’m probably not gonna rewatch S6 anytime soon.

[clouds-rambles]

Howdy, since your feeding the angst tag today could I please request a Lisa, Diluc, and reader poly one shot where the reader has to choose because of the incident with Diluc's father(sorry if referring to it as choosing is rude, I lack any better wording).

Maybe end it with fluff?

I do either one of two things; feed the Venti tag or feed the angst tag. And I honestly I love that for me

I hope what I’ve written is okay lmao

I made this more about Diluc whoops

Edit- I COMPLETELY FORGOT ABOUT THE FLUFF PART I’M SO SORRY I JUST REALISED-

Pairing(s); (Polyam) Diluc, Lisa x reader

Warnings; angst, hurt

Keep reading under the cut!

Both you and Lisa have tried to give as much comfort as you can to Diluc as he suffers from his fathers death and his brothers unknown betrayal.

You both understand how much he’s suffering from the losses and the two of you try as much as you can to make him comfortable, to make him open up. To just try and help him process

But Diluc pushes the two of you away with strings of curses. He’s different, definitely traumatised about whatever happened around his fathers death

Originally the two of you stumbled upon Kaeya and Diluc’s death match. And before either of you can cut in to stop Diluc from getting blood on his hands Kaeya’s vision manifests

You will never be quick to remember that fight. The way Diluc swung his heavy greatsword at Kaeya, the heavy rain, the tears in both brothers faces

And very much that’s when Diluc started closing himself off more. Even if he participated in events between the three of you he seems absent. And much like before no matter what the two of you do to help Diluc he pushes you away

As much as you want to continue to be there for Diluc, you can’t help but see your own mental health decline as he brushes you off. So that’s whats led you here sat with Diluc and Lisa at the table

“I.. uh I’m going to have to leave” you announce scratching the back of your neck “I can’t take much more of this tenseness I-”

“It’s okay” Diluc states bluntly “I’ll leave” he adds “With everything that’s gone on I don’t blame you I’m-”

“It’s not like I still don’t hold you dearly” you interrupt before Diluc can say anything self deprecating “I’m sure Lisa will agree, you’re welcome back anytime” you smile softly, Lisa nods

“Of course” she returns your smile and looks at Diluc with the same smile. The redhead nods

He never does

But whenever you and Lisa giggle and chat at the back of the angels share with a few drinks you can always feel Diluc’s stare on your backs. Maybe a sense of longing, maybe a sense of missing something he thinks he’s lost

You and Lisa have both spoken about it a few times as the years pass and are still very much in agreement in welcoming Diluc with open arms if he so wishes

But he doesn’t

Diluc decides that he’s better off alone. Despite the traumatic death of his father being so many years ago he finds himself emotionally distant from everyone

Maybe that’s how it should be for a little while longer for him... 

[taeslovehandles]

I posted 527 times in 2021

283 posts created (54%)

244 posts reblogged (46%)

For every post I created, I reblogged 0.9 posts.

I added 289 tags in 2021

#taeslovehandles - 82 posts

#chubby bt5 - 33 posts

#wg story - 31 posts

#weight gain - 29 posts

#ask taeslovehandles - 24 posts

#weight gain story - 22 posts

#wg - 21 posts

#wg fic - 19 posts

#fat bt5 - 15 posts

#wg art - 13 posts

Longest Tag: 123 characters

#can we have more movies with realistic characters that are not viewed differently or dumber just because they are heavier!?

My Top Posts in 2021

#5

Look what you did to poor Namjoonie. All his abs are gone! But it looks like he doesn't really seem to care that much. In fact. It looks like he is challenging you all! Retweet or like this post and show this tubby man if he can really hold all the food you got for him!

*no time limit this time idk if I can post an update in a week lmao*

If you forgot how the old one looked- Check this out.

98 notes • Posted 2021-10-17 20:39:12 GMT

#4

Soo a good friend of mine is finally writing a story and I had to encourage her to keep writing it, so I drew this for her. It kind of is eprocto and I normally do not draw this but here you go. Enjoy. c:

Reaally fat jk with helpful bf Tae. <3

100 notes • Posted 2021-06-28 22:47:38 GMT

#3

[HoBT] Busy Shedule

A few years went by until Jimin and Jungkook had enough money to buy their own flat in the city. It was much easier for Jimin to get to work now in the new strip club downtown and Jungkook could focus on his gainer career a lot easier.

See the full post

114 notes • Posted 2021-07-03 10:43:42 GMT

#2

Could you maybe do any member as pretty big and another as the fit feeder? Bonus points if it’s about fitness humiliation

Okay. I have sat on this way too long, but I also really love this? And of course I had to go with Jikook my dear anon x3 <3

I'm pretty interested, what would you guys answer in Jungkook's position to Jimin's question/teasing? x3

140 notes • Posted 2021-06-20 19:08:42 GMT

#1

500 FOLLOWER - WEIGHT GAIN DRAFT!

And of coursetted and Namjoon won this one easily! So here is Namjoon sitting in his whirlpool looking smexy. Now it's your turn to feed him and help him grow soft and biiig!

With 2 hearts he gains 1 lbs

1 retweet is equal to 5 lbs

(I might change the value depending if it's not enough or too much. I am not sure how many will participate lmao xD)

His current weight is a muscly 175 lbs! Come and make this boy grow <3 You got a week time to share and like this post until I will count all of the weight he gained and draw a chubbier version of him!

I did not add any lbs gain for follows simply because I do not want people to feel forced to follow me just for this. Follow me if you like my stuff c: <3

Oh and sadly we did not hit 500 last month but how do we say? Each month is pride month. So Namjoon got a cute little rainbow tattoo <3

And of course thank you so much for everything. Honestly I just made the account to retweet and comment. I never intended this to blow up as it did and I love you all <3

221 notes • Posted 2021-07-11 19:44:56 GMT

Get your Tumblr 2021 Year in Review →

[ace-oreos]

You must be so sick of alpha and Fordo asks but you’re latest fic has given me angst potential- maybe a one-shot with alpha working with the bad batch to find Fordo post order 66 an him just breaking at the seams when he finds his Vod because he thought he lost Frodo like he lost Sev. Tears and man hugs ensue

Oh I am NEVER sick of Alpha and Fordo asks - they’re such a fun chaotic duo to write for. :D Also, Alpha working with the Bad Batch is something I never knew I needed until I saw your ask and I would absolutely write something with all of them again. I cannot express how difficult it was to not go off on a tangent about Hunter.

In true Sev style, I chose Kashyyyk as the main location for this one. It’s just so useful for these kinds of things.

Also. Y’all. I did not realize until I was four pages into this that I forgot Echo. So uh... whoops?  😅 😂 With that in mind, let me warn you that this is WAY longer than the other fics. I have no idea what happened. I have no idea what I’m doing.

Also also, thank goodness for Wookiepedia lmao

Edit with tags: @dudewhynotthis @merspots @the-mandalorian-clone-lover @delta-the-mando (taglist is open!) 

“Captain.” The sergeant keeps his distance even now, face inscrutable as he surveys Alpha. 

“Alpha,” he corrects half-heartedly, more for the sergeant’s sake than his own. 

“Alpha,” Hunter amends. “We’ll be entering the Mid Rim soon - maybe an hour, hour and a half tops.”

“Good to know.” Alpha knows he sounds despondent at best, but he’s hit enough dead ends by now to know all too well this will likely be a fruitless endeavor. There’s nowhere in the galaxy safe from him - not when his brother’s life is hanging in balance.

But it’s a big galaxy, with little regard for individual yearning or emotion. Alpha can vow to upend the galaxy as much as he likes, but the fact is they’ve only so much time, and only so many resources, and...

And maybe Hunter picks up on that, in that way of his as he observes Alpha without further comment. The sergeant is as much his vod as anyone else Alpha has encountered. Still beyond him sometimes, a little too other for Alpha to ever fully mesh with him or his brothers, but he’s a good soldier. A good man. 

“We’ve always got room for another,” are Hunter’s parting words as he makes his way back to the cockpit. 

If you find out your brother was dead all along. 

Alpha doubts it was anything less than a genuine offer, but it isn’t the only route. Not until I’ve exhausted every other option. And even then....

It doesn’t do, to let himself become so intertwined with a brother until he isn’t entirely sure he knows who he is without the other. He’d tried, both for his brothers and for his own peace of mind, to put a stop to it before it went too far. And maybe that was Jango getting in his head more than Alpha ever should have allowed, but he’d thought it was the right thing to do.

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder...

________________________

“ - you know as well as I do we’ve been going in circles for weeks now - ”

“Yeah, you might’ve mentioned that once or twice…”

“You said it yourself - we’ll get ourselves killed if we aren’t careful.”

“So we’ll be careful.” Hunter’s voice holds a note of finality. “We can keep rehashing this conversation, or we can help a vod.”

Alpha doesn’t catch the muttered reply, but it’s hardly amenable, if Hunter’s sigh is anything to go by. He can’t blame them, really - Fordo isn’t their brother, and outside of combat they’ve little common ground. And it’s only natural for Crosshair to raise the questions none of them are yet ready to face. Alpha thinks he could learn to like the man, given time. 

He reigns in his thoughts before entering the cockpit. The least he can do is put on a rational front. This whole thing isn’t at all rational, but the Bad Batch seem to understand better than others. It runs deeper than brotherhood here, whatever it is, and Alpha is irrepressibly reminded of Fordo, somehow - 

(And osik, does that thought burn, dig under his skin to remind him once again that he failed, that should he redeem himself it will be not on his terms but likely an inconsequential whim of a galaxy that cares nothing for them or everything they’ve fought so hard to hold on to - )

“Y’know, I’m not sure we’ve ever been to Kashyyyk,” Wrecker muses. “That’s a first.”  If he’s trying to divert Alpha’s attention from Crosshair, it’s a skillful effort that almost takes Alpha aback. “‘Course, I only remember the fun parts,” he adds as an impish afterthought.

“Anything with explosives, you mean?” Alpha asks drily. 

Wrecker grins. “Something like that.”

You and Fordo would get along fine.

What leaves his mouth is, “I don’t suppose anyone has any relevant information about this place?”

Right on cue, Tech pipes up from his position alongside Crosshair. “Actually…”

Tech is just as much of an efficient distraction in his own right. It’s not exactly the height of strategy on Alpha’s part, but once again it redirects attention. He has no doubt Hunter sees right through it; still, the man has enough tact to refrain from commenting.

You understand, I think, Alpha decides, watching exasperation and amusement play across Hunter’s face in turns as his brothers’ bickering fills the cockpit. You would go to hell and back for them, wouldn’t you, Sergeant? 

Hunter casts him a wary glance. Alpha holds his gaze.

There’s too much we can’t say. It’s okay, vod - I think I’m starting to understand too.

________________________

Kashyyyk is dishearteningly vast, all sprawling jungles and endless island chains set on a swath of ocean that dissects the planet’s hemispheres. Getting in was no easy task, what with the Imperial blockade cutting off the planet from others in its sector. But Tech’s adroit piloting had come through, and they’d slipped past the blockade with little disturbance.

“You really think your buddy is here?” Crosshair asks dubiously, surveying the area with a distinct air of displeasure.

“I’ve seen the records,” Alpha says, as much to reassure himself as the other man. “The Empire’s tighter with the book-keeping, I’ll give them that. Fordo’s unit lost contact not long before Order Sixty-six went down. If they made it out, it would be on record somewhere.”

“And if they didn’t?”

Alpha battles his temper into submission before replying. “Then they would be confirmed KIA. But they’re still listed as missing as of two weeks ago.”

“Sounds like you’re leaving an awful lot to chance,” Crosshair opines. There isn’t malice in his voice so much as an unmistakable note of disapproval. “What’s your plan if it turns out they were just waiting for reinforcements and pulled out days ago? That leaves us here in the heart of Imperial occupation.”

“I haven’t forgotten,” Alpha says grimly. “But if they lost comms before the order came through, then there’s a chance they aren’t with the Empire. Their main focus would be survival, not falling in line nice and neat like Palpatine expects.”

It’s clear there are a number of objections rising to the forefront of Crosshair’s mind, but the man keeps them to himself. There’s a conflict brewing there, Alpha knows, but that’s a matter to address at another time. 

“There’s an area south of here where all comm signals go dead,” Tech announces, tapping furiously at the device mounted on his vambrace. “According to intel, the Wookies call it the Black Forest.”

“Sounds inviting,” Hunter says. “What’s the deal with it?”

“A prison ship crashed there centuries ago,” Tech relays. “The Wookies believe it’s cursed, so they avoid it whenever possible. It’s possible Fordo and whoever was left were driven back by the Seps - or it was a desperate bid and he was banking on the droids not following somewhere they can’t maneuver well. But why cut himself off from allies…?”

“The forward operating base was set up in Kachirho,” Alpha muses aloud “There was another commando squad deployed here, but they were retasked shortly after Order Sixty-six. If Fordo’s here, I doubt he would hang around anywhere with high Imperial activity.”

If he were operating alone, the decision would be simple. But he has the welfare of four other men to consider now; one wrong move, and they’ll all end up on the business end of a blaster.

With that in mind, Alpha looks to Hunter. “Sergeant. What do you think?”

“It’s your call,” Hunter answers. “If you have reason to think your brother is hiding out here, then I think it’s worth taking a look. So long as we go careful, I don’t see why the Imperials should notice us.”

Wrecker’s chuckle fills the comms. “Famous last words.”

_________________________

For all that they have a reputation for being unorthodox - a reputation that is doubtless justly earned - the Bad Batch can pull off stealth pretty well, too. It comes as a bit of a surprise, if Alpha is being honest, but if nothing else the overarching threat of Hunter’s wrath is enough to keep them in line. 

“Keep an eye out for slavers,” Tech warns. “The whole planet has been a hotspot for them ever since the CIS first let them in.”

It’d be just our luck to run into slavers, Alpha thinks wryly. Individually they’re not much of a threat, but a group of Trandoshans spells trouble for anyone. Even without the training to back it up, their brutality can overpower even an ARC trooper. ‘Course, it’d be just like you to get into a mess like that, Fordo…

“We’ll be a bigger target if we travel as a group,” Hunter says. 

“If we split up we might as well ask for a death sentence,” Alpha cautions. Typically his first choice would be to operate alone, but between the slavers, the Imperials, and the remnants of the Separatist forces, he’s starting to think their strength might lie in numbers this time. 

Alpha mulls it over. Greater numbers means slower going. If we split up, we’ll be able to cover more ground. It’ll be risky, but - payoff is worth it. 

“We’ll move faster this way,” Hunter says, echoing Alpha’s thoughts. “Wrecker, Tech, you’re with me. Cross…” He fixes his brother with a stern stare. “Don’t do anything stupid. Alpha has my full permission to stop you by any means necessary.”

Alpha rewards the sergeant with a wolfish grin. “I’ll hold you to that.”

He can’t read Crosshair half as well as the others, but the sniper doesn’t appear altogether displeased. He merely shrugs when Alpha jerks his head towards the route they’ll be following, and trails after him without argument.

Silence lays thick over the jungle. There’s an odd rustle here and there, interspersed with faint growls from time to time, but progress is relatively smooth. Alpha takes pains to remain on guard; just because he can’t see a threat doesn’t mean they’re in the clear. 

Before long the silence is disconcerting. Given the planet’s Wookie population, there should be regular movement around them, or some sign of existence. But this stretch of the jungle is oddly lacking. 

“This doesn’t feel right,” Crosshair mutters. 

“Guess no one’s home,” Alpha answers absently, scrutizining the terrain. “Look - there’s no sign of a fight. Maybe no one was here to begin with.”

“Kachirho isn’t too far from here,” Crosshair points out. “You don’t think it’s a little odd that this path hasn’t been used at all?”

“It is,” Alpha allows, “but look at it this way. We’re traveling the way we’ve been trained to in this kind of setting. The Wookies probably have their own methods for getting around.”

“It’s still weird,” Crosshair decides. “And if your brother really was here, we’d have found evidence of that, too.”

He isn’t wrong, but it nonetheless stings to hear the man voice the doubtful thoughts that have been creeping up on Alpha. Still, we’ve come this far. What have we got to lose?

(More than he’s willing to surrender. But Crosshair doesn’t need to know that.)

“Let’s keep moving,” Alpha says, sharper than he intends. 

“Hang on,” Crosshair says suddenly. “Contact - ”

Alpha pivots in time to see a Trandoshan emerge from the surrounding foliage. The lizard is taller and more solid than he previously anticipated; instead of hitting it head-on like he initially planned, Alpha redirects in order to avoid being gutted on the lizard’s knife. 

He hears the shot and the telltale thump of the lizard falling to the ground. As Alpha picks himself up, Crosshair scans the area through the scope of his rifle. 

“Oh, shab,” the sniper hisses. 

It doesn’t take long for Alpha to locate the cause of Crosshair’s disgruntlement. A group of Trandoshans lurches towards them. Alpha does a rapid assessment: each lizard is packing some sort of ranged weapon - including slugthrowers, he notes unenthusiastically - and most are carrying an assortment of knives.

“Ideas?” Crosshair asks tersely. 

“They’ll just follow us if we run,” Alpha says. “It’ll save us trouble in the long run if we take them now.” 

“I can see why Hunter likes you,” Crosshair says, oddly nonchalant considering the circumstances, and fires. 

With Crosshair covering ranged attacks, Alpha elects the more up-close-and-personal option. The slavers have the advantage of size, but Trandoshans aren’t renowned for their intelligence. As long as he stays in motion the risk of having his throat slit is greatly reduced. 

Alpha targets a straggler first. He hits low, knocking the lizard off balance and sending it staggering into another. The other makes a grab for him, but Alpha is already ramming his vibroblade into the first slaver’s exposed neck. Using the limp body as a buffer, Alpha pushes against the other lizard, trying to force it onto its back foot. 

Just as he feels his opponent’s defense start to give, another three descend on him. Cursing, Alpha throws himself aside before they can hem him in. One of the slavers has enough presence of mind to bring his knife down on Alpha’s unprotected back; the force of the blow has him crashing to the ground. 

Alpha scrambles for a foothold, but one of the lizards seizes his leg in a vicelike grip. He writhes instinctively, kicking out with his other foot. He feels the impact more than sees it and wrenches himself free. 

Just as a third lizard fills the other’s place, there’s a crack from Crosshair’s rifle, and the lizard topples. Alpha springs to his feet to avoid being crushed by several hundred kilos of Trandoshan. The others are wary now, trying to divide their attention between him and Crosshair. 

Alpha doesn’t give them time to choose. This time he uses his blaster to put a round through the closest target. It’s not quite enough to put the lizard out of commission entirely, so he follows up with a quick succession of bolts. 

It’s not exactly an even match, but things aren’t going as badly as he first feared, Alpha thinks. No sooner does the thought cross his mind than his helmet flashes a warning. He turns to deflect the attack coming from behind, but he moves too late and steps directly into the strike. 

The slaver’s curved knife skids off Alpha’s breastplate and sinks into his bodysuit in the gap between the cuirass and the shoulder bell. Alpha manages to pull away, but not before the knife catches the underside of his arm and slices a gash halfway down his bicep.

A line of pain sears through his arm. There’s no doubt the Trandoshan cut deep into the muscle. That arm is effectively useless now; Alpha grimly switches his knife to the other hand. 

He doesn’t have eyes on Crosshair from his current position, but the rasping breaths and occasional curses over the comms suggest the sniper isn’t having an easy time of it either. Time to fall back and reassess.

“Let’s pull back. We might be able to lose them.” Alpha bites the inside of his cheek to suppress a hiss of pain when his wounded arm is jostled. “We can’t take them now, at any rate.”

“You might want to rethink that, alor’ad…”

Crosshair jerks his head to indicate the slavers pouring into the area. There’s a slim chance they’ll be able to slip by, but not without risking serious injury. Slowing down to accommodate a bad hit would mean certain death or capture.

Pinned down. Shabla brilliant. 

Alpha makes an effort to keep his rapidly rising alarm in check. “We’ll have to hold them off, then.”

“There’s no way,” Crosshair objects. “We’re outnumbered eight to one.”

Alpha sends a slaver sprawling rather than answer. He can see it as plainly as Crosshair, but he’s not going to lay down and die, not when his brother is still out there somewhere, not when there’s still a chance they could pull this off -

He hasn’t been this close in weeks and it isn���t his place to gamble anyone else’s life but his own, but even now he can’t bring himself to give in and he understands in a sudden flash of clarity that this is where he will always fail - because he has a foothold, now, and even though all logic points to turning back for once he can’t give in - 

An arm clamps around his neck. Alpha thrashes, trying to throw his attacker off, but now that he’s been caught off guard the lizard has an advantage. His vision begins to blur at the edges and he redoubles his efforts, fueled in no small part by panic at being unable to draw breath. 

He doesn’t know where Crosshair is anymore. He can hardly see beyond his own hands, scrabbling desperately at the arm locked around his neck. 

No sooner does his vision begin to fade than the crushing pressure on his neck abruptly loosens. Alpha hits the ground gracelessly, coughing violently as he tries to inhale. His breath rattles in his throat, but his vision gradually returns. 

He lurches to his feet and assumes a defensive stance as best he can. He’s lost track of how many slavers are still standing - too many is his best estimate.

But the man standing before him isn’t an enemy. He’s -

“Vod,” Fordo says softly. 

Alpha can only stare at his brother in stunned silence, momentarily deaf to the ongoing struggle around them. Fordo....

“Later,” his brother promises. 

______________________

“So how’d you end up running with them?” Fordo asks with a nod towards the Bad Batch. 

“It’s complicated,” Alpha says lightly. “Too much to unpack now, at any rate.”

Fordo laughs. He’s battered and weary, with something lurking in his gaze Alpha can’t quite decipher yet, but it’s Fordo, and that’s more than enough. 

“It’s quiet here,” Fordo remarks. “I like that.”

“‘S nice,” Alpha agrees. 

They’re still hovering just above the surface. Tentative. It’s not exactly what Alpha is accustomed to, but for Fordo’s sake he lets his brother take the lead. 

“Everything’s gone sideways, hasn’t it,” Fordo says suddenly. 

“It has,” Alpha admits. There’s no use pretending otherwise. “But we’ll find a way through.”

Fordo flashes a small smile. “You’re good at that.”

Alpha merely shrugs. There’s a thousand other things he wants to say, but he hasn’t the faintest clue where to begin. Finally he ventures carefully, “Y’know, for a while now I thought this mission did you in.”

Fordo lets out a long sigh. “I was starting to think it might, myself.”

“I…” Alpha breaks off, startled by the sudden pressure behind his eyes. It worsens when he tries to continue. “I don’t know what I would’ve - ”

He falters again. I care more than I should. I never should’ve let that happen, but even now I don’t know if I regret it.

“Alpha,” Fordo says softly, and pulls him into an embrace.

Alpha doesn’t know how much time passes before he finally disentangles himself from Fordo as gently as he can and scrubs at the hot trails on his face. He can’t quite bring himself to feel any shame over it. He’s never been given to such displays, but… Fordo is his vod. 

“So what’s the plan, alor’ad?” Fordo asks with a familiar note of mischief in his voice.

Alpha smiles despite himself. “It’s a big galaxy.”

“We’ve got time.”

“Yeah,” Alpha laughs. “We have time.”

[bringingglory]

thank you so much for the tags @hanamuri @fullmetalscullyy @megthemighty @nightofnyx8 @tsaritsa !

How many works do you have on AO3? 11! some are botw, one is tdiapt, some are fma, and some are haikyuu! i mostly just write for whatever im interested in at the moment/whichever fandom inspiration strikes for

What's your total AO3 word count? 101,939

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Keep Your Friends Closer But Your Enemies Closer - T: ahhhh my miraculous ladybug fic! ive literally been working on her for FOREVER and i swear to god im going to finish it, i literally know how i want to end it and i know all the events leading up to it. hell, i even have a vague idea of what i want to happen in the middle, i just need to know what order the middle stuff happens in and also i just have to write it. It's an AU where Ladybug and Chat Noir are actually enemies but then Chat Noir accidentally befriends Marinette and then drama etc etc etc.

rain - G: first zelink fic babey! set Pre-Calamity and basically link and zelda get stuck in a cave because of the rain and there's just a lot of quiet pining, etc etc.

Your Friendly Neighborhood Oikawa - T: HAHAHA this was a crack fic inspired by my roommate but then i forgot it was supposed to be a crack fic while writing it and there are accidentally real emotions alkjdfalksdf but anyway it was very fun to write lmao. it was based off this meme and basically it's an AU where Oikawa is Spider-Man and Iwaizumi doesn't know but they still like hang out and stuff. It's a lot of fun, or at least I think it is, haha.

stolen moments - T: first royai fic!!! just a series of "stolen moments" (mic drop) where roy and riza like cant be together but yknow, they try. lots of pining. etc

a secret weapon of sorts - T: 5+1 edwin fic inspired by the Simple People OVA where instead of ed giving winry earrings to get out of trouble, he gives her kisses.

Do you reply to comments, why or why not? Yes! I try really hard to!!! Sometimes I get overwhelmed and I don't respond to comments for a while, but I absolutely do my best to when I remember because I feel like it's my way of saying "thank you" for them reading my fics in the first place, haha.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending? Uhhhhh, sleepless I guess? But it's more open-ended/not explicitly positive more than anything, though even then I feel like I've got a hint of hope in there. alkjdfhalsdk idk man I just, I can't write *pure* angst, there's gotta be some light, and thus I could never end anything angstily

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending? LMAO most of my fics??? I guess??? bc despite being an anxious piece of shit, I am an optimist by heart

Do you write crossovers? If so, what's the craziest one you've ever written? When I was younger! Idk, I guess the Rise of the Brave Frozen Tangled Dragons fandom??? if anyone remembers what that is lmao

Have you ever received hate on a fic? Not exactly? Maybe some weird comments on KYFCBYEC but even then, it wasn't that often.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind? No no no no no no no no. I am telling you, I physically cannot write smut. I don't think I actually have the capacity. Absolute fucking kudos to every single smut writer out there bc it truly is an art form capturing that intimacy and emotion and etc, but I literally get flustered from writing mildly detailed kiss scenes. If I ever wrote smut, I would burst into flames on the spot.

Actually lies, I technically wrote smut once, but it was at the request of my roommates and they wanted me to write a crack smut fic of Y/N x our uni's mascot and I wrote that thing in like 3 hours with so many silly memes to keep myself sane (not like other girls, tongues battled for dominance, etc), did not edit it, and because it was so, like, not serious, I was actually able to get through it. But even then, when I wrote "thrusting" I literally had to put my laptop down for 20 minutes.

Have you ever had a fic stolen? Nope!

Have you ever had a fic translated? Not yet! Someone commented on Your Friendly Neighborhood Oikawa and asked if they could translate it and I said yes! They haven't gotten around to it yet, but I would love to see it if they do!

Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not yet!

What’s your all-time favourite ship? Bro it changes day to day. You can't ask me this lmao. The current ship I'm most fixated on is Iwaoi, but I wouldn't say they're my all-time favorite.

What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will? I'm not answering this energy. On god, I'm going to finish things. I want to.

What are your writing strengths? uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh very good question lmao. I don't really like thinking about "strengths" in my writing bc who am I to say? akjdslakfjdf idk, instead, I'm just gonna say some things I like/try to do in my writing, which are: conversational prose/having a lot of voice in the narration, I try to add humor wherever I can, and recently I've gotten better and metaphors and describing things bc I picked up writing poetry a year ago!

What are your writing weaknesses? hmmm, a thing I dislike about my writing/the writing process is that I'm slow to publish things and slow to finish things because I'm such a messy first drafter and I also take forever to edit. I would like to uhhhhh get things out faster. Also I tend to repeat myself a lot bc I forget the details of things I write sometimes lmao.

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic? Hmmm, I dunno, I guess I don't have any strong thoughts? The only other language I know is Mandarin but even then, I suck ass at that, so I'll prolly never write dialogue in another language simply bc I like to try to portray things semi-realistically and I don't think I have a good enough grasp on any other language the same way I do in English to produce authentic enough dialogue.

What was the first fandom you wrote for? Fablehaven I guess? But Idk I was in fourth grade an didn't even know what fandom was yet. Rise of the Guardians, maybe?

What’s your favourite fic you’ve written?

AHHHH idk??? maybe hold your hand out in the dark because i really experimented with my writing on that one and im sort of proud of the result, just like the fact that i wanted to try something new and it turned out alright. that or Sunset Wheeling which is an iwaoi fic where they just skate, and like it's prolly one of the most self-indulgent things i've ever written because it's silly and they just. skate. but aljdfalsjd idk i loved it and i churned it out in 6 days and it was a lot of fun lol

ahhh a bunch of people have been tagged already, so sorry if im tagging you again, but for now im just gonna tag @niconiconina @notkorras @thatisadamnfinecupofcoffee @firewoodfigs and anyone else who wants do it!

[yibo-wang]

Seven comfort movies

thank you so much Vish! @vishcount !! sorry I'm ages late to this.

I was trying to find the post where I did this but since I couldn't find it I'll just do this again with some different ones. (p.s I watch more comfort episodes more than movies haha so I'll probably add more of those)

The Untamed ep 43: I love this ep! It's probably my favourite one, and no matter how many times I watch it I'll never get tired of it. baby lans, the simple act of devotion and domesticity of lan zhan bringing wwx emperor's smile right infront of the lan sect leader, bringing him into his home— his bed, sharing clothes and nursing him, they're all such little details but it means so much.

MDZS Chibi: listen there's literally nothing cuter than this. Like I literally just put on any ep and its bound to fill me with serotonin, I adore it.

Captain America: the winter soldier: my all time favourite movie, if I had to watch one movie for the rest of my life I'd choose this. If it wasn't obvious from the general posts I reblog lmao I am weak for characters being devoted and fighting for what is right and going against the majority just to save that one person.

Lion King Simba's pride: it's not cheating since it's part 2 of the lion king. simba's pride doesn't quite match up to TLK but it's definitely up there in the list. It's one of those movies I watched a lot as a kid with my cousins and sisters and it holds a special place in my heart.

Rio: I cant believe I forgot about this. Rio was such a incredible movie. I adore it, and its once of those movies which just reminds me of comfort and warmth. (I think I might rewatch it today)

not tagging anyone since I already did that but if you would like to do it consider yourself tagged by me with no hesitation 💛

[jksangelic]

heaven’s winter (m)

RATING: M

GENRE: fantasy, fluff, smut, a hint of a soulmate au, light angst

PAIRING: village daughter!reader x seraph!yoongi (alternatively, an “angel”)

WARNINGS/TAGS: lots of overthinking/past angst regarding both reader and yoongi separately (yoongi especially), tae is involved as an important plot side character but he’s barely in there i’m sorry, surprise aggression from yoongi because u get in his personal space, slow burn smut but the smut is nice and flavorful, explicit sexual content, body worship, oral sex (female receiving), virgin!reader, clumsy cute smut uwu, unprotected sex (wrap it up pls), several positions, unintentional temperature play?, lots of love and respect up in this house and lots of other things i probably forgot. 

also i wrote a lot for the intro you can skim idc lmao.

SUMMARY: your duty as the village daughter places you in line for the season’s Offering; a tradition not to tread lightly upon. as the snow falls slow and heavy, and the seraph awaits in the shallows of the mountain, you fail to realize what the winter has in store for you.

WORD COUNT: 18,600

NOTE: welcome to my slice of the Fantastical Stories for Curious Souls Collaboration!

it’s always really an honor to be able to work with other writers and i’m really grateful that they allowed my butting-in )))): thank you all!!! make sure to check out everyone’s stories in the link above and let us know what you think!

(uhhh i just..... i spent way too much time on research and the politics behind this fic for it to still be aLL oVer tHe plaCe but please cut me some slack. might i throw in that this has no religious/cultural affiliation and instead has more of a fantastical theme to it that is entirely fictional. especially for the concept of the Offering and how i loosely throw around the word “angel” and “heaven” and etc.)

((might i add that i recently discovered that i am *terrible* at describing geography and am totally basing it off of video-game visuals........ cough cough zeldabreathofthewild))

(((this last one’s kinda important!!!!: yoongi is described to be larger than you bc he’s this magical bird being. i always try to keep reader insert broad in description but if you’re taller than irl yoongi boongi, pssst, you’re not in this universe sorry but i make the rules)))

((((this is currently unedited. @14statelier​ get to work.))))

Part One

The snow falls slow and thick. The children catching it on their tongues and compacting it to shoot at each other, screaming and wailing all the same as it continues to pile. It fell particularly early this time around, normally nothing more than cold bitter to the skin and clouds stirring prediction of the oncoming winter. You were always a heavy sleeper despite the beauty of first frost, long past your days of childish amazement through fogged windows and warm fires but you watched the icy cotton substance pile since dawn this morning. Not even drowsiness will overrun your excitement for the day ahead.

“You light three incense and make sure they burn all the way through before you turn around,” Taehee states.

“Find some stones on your way. Use them to hold the tapestry down as you set up. It looks especially windy today,” Mina adds.

Yoona finishes tucking your hair back rather tightly, “You should stop by Jin’s and pick up some extra bread. You know he’ll give you some of his fresh batch if you asked for it.”

You suppose, not even the nagging of your aunts.

You chew on your fingers, a nervous habit. Taehee pulls your slobbered index from your lips with a wrinkled forehead, “You better remember this, dear. You only have to do it once but if you do it right, it’ll be worth much more.”

You recite drearily, “Follow the path, set up the altar, say our prayers, return home.”

“Once the incense is out, Y/N. You mustn’t forget.”

“And you cannot explore the manor. Don’t walk around. Don’t look through the windows—”

“It’s a manor? How big do you suppose?” you ask with newfound interest to your words.

“That doesn’t matter, girl. You don’t wander. You don’t explore. You do what is told of you and nothing more. What matters is that you don’t spot a seraph, and that the seraphs don’t spot you.”

You never understood that rule. If the seraph tribe was so kind as to help your country win a rather one-sided war, then why the invisible boundary? To be in alliance and never interact was an odd sense of unity to you, if any. “Have you ever seen a seraph? Is it true they have two sets of wings?” You’d always been curious to the subject, a fairytale-like existence just waiting below the peak.

“The elders claim they do. A large and small set. Some say it’s necessary for having human proportions. You know, they say it’s bad luck to stare at a seraph’s wings. ” Mina says in awe in correspondence to the way she suffocates you with your robe’s sash.

You swat her away, forcing down a smile, “I don’t believe that, you haven’t even seen one! How do you even know they exist!”

“Hush! You’ll get into some real trouble if an elder catches you saying that. They exist. And they live up the mountain. And you will do the Offering with utmost delicacy and respect. Besides, you’re the only one coming-of-age this year! A girl to do it by herself is surely something the leaders will appraise of you.” You avoid their scrutinous, expectant gazes.

You could say you’ve been cursed at birth. Weak in basic skills in which an adult, regardless of age, is identified by. You lacked time management and a sense of direction, you harbored a bad habit of looking down when you spoke, you couldn’t even wash the dishes without chipping a glass. Your legs worked against you at random times, quite literally tripping you up and deeming you as a clumsy, pitiful thing. As you grew older, the only skills you were able to contribute were to the fields, where things were organic and didn’t require fragility.

“I am not as useless as you think of me,” the words come out unprompted but true and exposed.

The women gawk and babble like hens in a flurry of angered denial or soft apologies but you no longer have time to discuss unimportant matters.

In the midst, rough, giant hands encase your face. You don’t realize you’re looking to the floor until Taehyung props your chin upwards, met with smiling eyes and an ear-to-ear grin. His name rolls off your tongue in surprise.

“Hey, don’t start moping before you even start. It really isn’t a big deal. You hike all the way up to the riverbank more than the others and that’s a long way. This is no different. And think, when you come home everyone will come to realize how much they’ve missed you! Me included.”

“It’s not that I’m…” You start haphazardly. Well, it’s not that you’re reluctant to do the Offering. To adventure otherwise prohibited land and by yourself, to prove that you can handle life just fine and don’t need to be seared by the judgement of deploring eyes. Some time to enjoy solitary peace. It wasn’t even a whole day, dammit, but you’ll take what you can get. You choose to lie, “I guess I am a bit nervous. I’ll make sure to pace myself. Besides, I’d run myself short if I finished in half-a-day like you.”

Tae puffs, a little proud of himself, “What can I say… I’d like for the little ones to look up to me.” You roll your eyes, scanning your bed for your scarf. Taehyung eyes the cloth as you wrap it around, a rare moment of quiet. He stares, entranced, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen him so focused. As you think about inquiring his statue-like manner, you notice that more of the silence is due to the disappearance of the squawking hens. Those sly, evil matchmakers.

You suddenly pull him along and towards the exit, “You can’t be in here. You’ll get us in trouble.”

He blinks dumbly and slumps against your ministrations. “Your aunts seemed to be fine with it. And it’s not like I haven’t snuck in your window a few… several times.”

Your expressed sheepishness is his favorite source of entertainment, “Goodness, as kids! You make it sound so rebellious.” He winks as if you share a grand secret, all to his imagination of course.

Taehyung, on the other hand, was the village’s be-all and end-all. Born to work and carry everyone else on his back. He stands tall with his shoulders wide and prominent, chestnut waves that reached his cheekbones now. Shirt tight around his torso in ways that could excite anyone that risked a glimpse. You can’t help but find it amazing how much of a crybaby he was when you were young and how sturdy and dependable he is now. He was humorously your polar opposite.

You try to shoo him once more, “Anyways. I’m getting ready and you can’t see me. Go wait with everyone else!” His pout is jarring paired with his hard, strong build. Like a teddy bear with abs and palm blisters from years of physical labor.

His body moves on his own at some point, reluctantly reaching for your door handle, “No parting kiss upon my cheek, fair lady?”

It’s obvious he’s being more daring these days. With frequent visits and gifts on your doorstep, and now requested kisses. The whole town knew you were likely to marry him, a relief for most. But on your hand, you’ve just known him for so long. Practically since you were born. You’ve already shared kisses, you’ve already had those butterflies in your stomach; but the kisses were stolen in secret and the butterflies were stagnant. And although it was never a consistent nor official courting, you felt as though Taehyung was already a route taken. You know better to never admit that into the air, though. Not when everyone expected your cooperation with marriage at the least. To care for someone so special, and to bear his children plump and healthy.

What a static life to live, you try not to think. You instead try to blame such thinking on your inferiority complex, to at least ease some of that horrible guilt in your stomach. You should be grateful for your life. Talentless yet adored. A village princess that was easy on the eyes and sought after by those looking for that beauty and its accompanied dowry.

A proposal was near, that much you could tell with his efforts. In his perspective, the sooner the better lest he want someone else to steal you from him. Contradictory to your own reasoning, the only relief you find is that it is him, your dearest friend. Perhaps the only one to disregard your shortcomings and want to fill your empty spaces as much as he can. He cared about you and that could be enough. So you try to convince yourself of that.  

You kiss his cheek softly and without hesitation. Not so much as a blush. He suspects nothing less than mutual adoration and takes his leave like you request, leaving you alone in silence for a relieving twenty seconds. Then the hens come back inside and squabble about who will be able to sew together your future gown.

 Part Two

It starts under the old pine tree on the far side of the village. A crowd gathers as you wait under the swaying branches, mutters and looks of excitement apparent. A cleric waits beside you with three elder women who prepare your things: a woven satchel loaded with the items that you are to lay out, things like dried flowers, fruits, fine wines, tapestries, collected crystals, baked goods and the incense. A replica display of what little the humans had presented at the foot of the seraphs. Untouchable beings with class and power much above your own. Kindness as well, so it seems; to be provided with just this and offer unparalleled assistance to a hopeless cause in the old wars. You wondered if they still watched from afar, curious to the well-being of their mortal neighbors.

"Dear, keep your mind with us. You'll be off shortly," one of the grandmas whisper, placing a carved selenite athame into a leather holster and slipping it into the confines of your robe, "For protection." You smile and thank her kindly, tuning back into the ceremony and waiting for the second elder. They continue to adorn you in charms and traveling goodies, eventually piling on unnecessary weight that will, for sure, slow you down in the process. The trek was basically a day’s trip. If you moved efficiently, you should be home no later than when the sun begins to set, in time for supper even. As much as you’d like to stay out longer, you dare not risk a night in the mountains.

“—this year’s representative will be just as prosperous. May she bring good fortune and health onto our town just as the many before her has done so,” the old cleric roars into the audience, just about finishing his speech as you start to listen. You hope he didn’t say anything too significant. Can’t possibly hang on to every dry word when you were so close to tasting temporary freedom.

You make your way into the parted sea of people, some who grip your hand as you walk by to invoke strength as you move along. A few grumble good luck’s and come back safe’s. Then an angry baker charging through helpless bodies.

“Take this, you stupid girl. You were supposed to stop by the bakery this morning,” Seokjin whines, thrusting what seems to be a warm pastry wrapped with cheesecloth into your hands.

“Thank—Thank you. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to bug…”

Jungkook pops in from nowhere, hitting your shoulder a little too playfully, “Chin up, love. Don’t be back too soon.” You nod shyly as he distances behind. Jungkook always had a strong nose for your facades but he also always kept your secrets. Clutching your things tightly, you watch your boots as they pick up speed through the mess of attention.

“Good luck!”

“Watch your surroundings, little one.”

“Come home and don’t wander off!”

You leave northbound until you no longer hear their cheers. Until the snow no longer has indented prints and you think you’re alone and off to the races. A sudden tension snaps when you release your sore cheeks from an artificial smile, not even aware you were sporting one in the first place. There was always a heavy pressure when you presented yourself to the public, and while you were no damn princess, everyone ensured that you at least feel the looming responsibility of one. Curse your family’s political ties and all that, otherwise you wouldn’t give a damn if you seemed like an old witch spotted once in a blue moon.

When you reach the border gate is when you see Taehyung for the last time today. It comes as a surprise to see him waiting for you like a loyal dog, dark hair sprinkled with snowflakes, red cheeks a striking contrast against the bright setting. If you were more grateful, you’d think he looks particularly good today. If anything, it strikes you more that you failed to see his face at the send-off.

“Hey. I didn’t want to do this in front of everyone else… and today of all days but if I don’t right now, I don’t think I ever will,” he jumbles. In his hands hold a scarlet scarf, the same one you had seen as a child when his mom would occasionally take care of you, let you help bake, and playfully dress you in her accessories. All but that scarf, folded neatly and tucked into a corner or her closet.

“Oh! Don’t touch that, love,” she said, “That’s something my mother-in-law made for me.”

You had pouted then, a spoiled brat of sorts. But Taehyung’s mother’s eyes were always warm and she spoke softer than cashmere, “I have to give that to my son when he decides to marry. Will you make sure he finds the right one, for me? You are his best friend, aren’t you?”

You remember the challenge you felt, yelling without hesitation, “Taetae will marry me! When we grow up I’ll be his bride and you won’t have to worry!”

She giggled in contentment, eyes squinted in a wide smile and petting you lovingly, “Ah, of course. I know you’ll be a wonderful wife, Y/N. Taehyung will be in great hands.”

“I had been there, you know,” Taehyung chuckles, “When you claimed you’d be my wife when we got older. I was hiding in the hallway and initially, I thought, ‘I’ll never marry my best friend!’. But, now… I just can’t imagine wanting to marry anyone else.”

You grin at him sadly. Of course he had been holding onto this his entire childhood.

“Taehyung…”

“We’re still young, I know that. I just want to give you this for your trip to make me feel more at ease and so you can think about it. You can take all the time that you need. I know Mother wouldn’t mind, especially for you.” You nod. It’s all you can do. Taehyung pulls you into a tight embrace and kisses your hair. When he pulls away, he wraps your neck into the warmth of the scarf you’d always wished to wear. But it’s almost suffocating now, locking in your fate before you even step out of the village boundaries.

“For now, just come back to me. I’ll be waiting for you no matter what you decide.”

You can fathom the communal disappointment of rejecting your strongest suitor. More importantly, you would be shameful to turn down his proposal. Once it was out there, there was no “decision”.

You can imagine your aunts now, squealing in delight and sewing from their best cloths.

 Part Three

Though you never had the chance to explore much, this really was nothing you've ever seen before. An ominous stairway carved into rock weaved in and out of your trail which made it fairly easy to follow along. You can't imagine the labor that went into sculpting this far ahead and all the way up the side of the mountain; it was truly something mind-boggling. As the air begins to thin, the amount of snow starts to grow thicker. If you had waited any longer into the winter you wouldn’t even be able to see the path, you’re sure.

You only need to stop twice to catch your breath and sit down. Snacking on the bread Jin gifted you only a few hours ago. It’s satisfying to look back at the area you’ve covered, how small things look from your height and the beauty of a fresh snow blanket. The scenery to the riverbank was nowhere as near breathtaking to that of the mountain. A dreamscape of evergreen trees and varying shrubbery, crossing over a short wooden bridge floating over a near-frozen stream, even occasional wildlife prancing into view. The summit itself wasn’t terribly high. It was manageable to hike for the most part, more so that your goal wasn’t to reach the peak. 

You could travel all the time, you think. Hike or take a horse somewhere farther than here but that’s not very practical. There was nowhere really to go and you didn’t have the luxury to just up and leave your household, and now Taehyung. The knots in your brain seem to loosen, blame the inclination and dry air infiltrating your head. Knowing your life was to be faced someday and all your immature ambitions to leave the village now seeming childlike and unattainable. The pessimism had yet to blow out your weak flame of philosophical rebellion but it was surely keeping you in check.

Judging by the sun's position, it's midday. Meaning it shouldn't be long before you catch sight of the "manor" and thus will be halfway finished with your journey.

You nearly walk off the cliffside before you notice the route's abrupt change and how it slithers deeper into the eye of the mountain. The farther you walk, the closer the earthy walls begin to shut in on you in a trench-like structure. It's even more unbelievable coming upon a short archway, perhaps man-made and mined through a boulder that could have fallen from atop one of the peaks. Being here, you realize, makes you feel small. Slithering through the terrain like a fairy in the tales your mother had told you at night. Of beasts and cryptids that could appear in the tangles of forest and vanish all in the same. There was a sort of dreamlike trance you found yourself in as you walked under the rock as if it were a portal.

And, unexpectedly, it's there. Atop a few more dreadful flights of stairs, hidden between an odd bundle of trees and beneath a fresh veil of snow, you can barely make out the silhouette of a house. It's still a bit far and eerily surrounded by fog but it's there and it almost looks as if it's... floating. Like a gateway to a secret nook of heaven.

It's one of those odd, puzzle-like mirages when you climb more steps to think you're only getting farther from the house. The swaying of branches keeps you from determining just how big it is and what it could possibly conceal. Even the atmosphere, chill and intimidating, makes your heart skip in perplexed anticipation. Having been at this for hours, if the staircase hadn't just ceased you would have kept walking straight into the dark wooden door.

But your aching legs find relief in the stretching flat surface of a porch and your exhilaration to reaching such a majestic destination that you could squeal. Of course, you don't, and instead get started at the task at hand.

You kneel onto the cool floor and begin to unload your things, neatly and without the need to rush. You lay stones on each corner of the tapestry to hold it down, you lay out the contents in somewhat of an aesthetically manner, you strike a match to light the incense and you mumble your thanks on behalf of the village, all as you were told. The snicker under your breath comes unwarranted as you finalize the display, even Taehyung couldn't have done this well.

It feels a little anticlimactic; a little short-lived. To have come up this whole way and spend a maximum of five minutes in somewhere you could spend days exploring. Idling, you can practically hear the warning clucks of your aunts engraved into your brain.

"Don't dilly-dally!"

"Come straight home."

"Even think of doing anything funny and I'll have Seokjin roast you alive."

Maybe it's why it's even more satisfying to you when you ignore them altogether, standing from your position and just dying to see the rest of the manor's exterior. One peek, one peek and I'll never stray from instruction ever again, you think. Just my last burst of freedom and then I promise to be a good girl with no more personality than a wet dish rag.

So you tiptoe to the massive door and lean your ear against it as if you could hear anything with its size and the strong winds. You questioned if anyone even lived here, void of any decorations or signs of recent activity. Maybe the deer would get to the food you laid out before someone even stepped foot on the property prior next Offering.

When there are no obvious indications of life do you weasel your way around the corner, an extension of the porch wrapping around the side of the house to much of your assumption and revealing an expanse of space. The cabin was two stories at the least, maybe even three if not had been for the first story windows and how incredibly tall they were. You could only imagine the comfort of being inside such a space, being able to wake and watch the snow behind a glass wall of incredible proportions. While you ogle the window do you, of course, fail to realize that it's transparent and startle a bit when something begins to move.

The reflection makes it a bit difficult to pinpoint, a large dark figure shifting ever so slightly in its confines. Like a complete buffoon, you near the wall even closer with squinted eyes just making out the shapes of an entity.

Whatever it is, it's incredibly large. A heart in shape and composed of monochromatic blacks, reaching the floor and surely much taller than you. It was killing you that you couldn't figure out what the hell it was, well-near leaning against the glass as you peer into the private space.

You freeze in place as the elongated heart is really in the shape of wings, accompanied by a body as they’re dragged behind it like a veil. Long and dark and ruffling occasionally as their owner rotates a bit...

But you don't get to see his face. The man in which you firmly believed could be nothing but a myth; as propaganda by the village elders to keep your actions in check. Rather, the seraphs were more authentic than you could have ever imagined, and as magical and inspiring as it may be, so are the Offering rules that are now proved and justified, and that could only mean that this was very, very unfortunate timing to be snooping around property that was not yours.

Your feet scramble backwards in attempt to flee out of sight, instead graciously slipping against the frozen wood and causing you to land quite harshly on your side. Your hip burns at the impact but more horrifyingly important, the crash rattles the side of the floating stoop and his eyes burn into your pathetic body. The moment is wedged between fractions of a second, eye contact barely existent but it's enough to see the daggers in the seraph's irises. It's enough of a warning for you to get back onto your feet and sprint as carefully as possible away from such a gaze that could light this winter wonderland into disastrous flames.

All that comes across your mind as you rush down the steps is how wrong you were. How you unjustly became more and more skeptical of the stories and legends of the creatures that existed in the crevices of the mountains. How numb you became to the warnings as your age drew near for your rite of passage. How much of a taboo you would become if you were to ever tell a living soul that you witnessed a seraph and its marvelous wings. Not that you would.

Your ability to run brings you to the realization that you forgot your things but it was beyond you now. For once in your life, you cherish the idea of being home and hiding under the covers in the tranquil warmth of a familiar fireplace. To dream away the moment that dark angel caught a sly fox trespassing into his territory and, rightfully so, looking as if he craved to skin it alive.

You yelp at the sudden caw of ravens as they fly overhead. Their screeches send shivers to your bones, a sudden chill slowing you down. Rustling in the nearby trees deem you completely terrified, a gut feeling deducting the possibility of winds blowing that strong in the middle of dense shrubbery. Your heart drops once more; your athame was left in the abandoned bag.

The last time you had seen a wolf was when you were barely a toddler, sleepily held in the arms of a younger (and much kinder) Mina. It lurked in the woods just past the fields, a little young and possibly separated from its pack. But wolves were smart and they knew better than to make trouble in a town of loud humans. You remember the way it pulled its ears back and slinked back into the sanctity of its wild home and never to be seen again.

These wolves were smart too, howling their announcement upon finding a small, weak girl all alone and oozing dread. Two pairs of eyes track you as their corresponding bodies stalk out of the bushes, large and sleek and beautiful. Both grey and both incredibly hungry, they begin to pace around you maybe 100 feet away. You startle back and up a stair, most favored option to return to the cabin and retrieve your bag, maybe stay near for a bit until the creatures leave but then another, black and larger than the other two, barks harshly and stands its ground on your sacred steps. You are royally trapped.

“Stay… Stay back,” you warn dumbly, looking to the only open direction in the woods. You wouldn’t be as fast as on the path as long as you had to maneuver through the snow but you could possibly break off a hefty branch. Enough to ward them off to get back to the cabin and pray that the seraph doesn’t pose more of a problem than flesh-eating hounds.

So you sprint, robes clenched in your fists and boots sinking into the pillows of ice, disappearing into the trees and disregarding the snarls that start up behind you. You look desperately for something, anything to help you. Snow begins to find its way into your shoes each time you trip over yourself, wetting the soles of your feet. Hands scraping against bark with each twist and turn and your fingers burn. You only look back occasionally, seeing no more than one pair of eyes at a time at a short distance. This must have been a fun game to them, howling their contents into brisk air.

The black dog truly appears from nowhere, a flash of teeth from your left peripheral before it tackles you to the ground the same moment you find a dead branch and thrust it into its snapping jaw. It all happens too fast. You yipe as you roll through the fall, wolf teeth still digging through your only weapon and snapping the poor thing to two. In pure desperation, you dig the sharper broken half into whatever it’s willing to hit. Fortunately enough, the wolf whimpers and tumbles off you. Then you’re off once again, adrenaline ringing in your ears as you don’t even care to recall which way is which, as long as it’s away from, what can you assume was, the Big Bad Alpha.

More howls from them, more cries from you.

You’re able to return to the path without another spotting. It turns out you were going the wrong way when you’re also met with the narrow exit and that cursed archway. A gateway to inevitable death.  

Halfway through the gap in manic rush and you’re face to face with a beast so pale that it camouflaged with the flurry encasing you both. Eyes clear as water and almost… comforting. Even with the low rumble in its throat and one paw in front of the other in a slow, tantalizing chase. The others growl behind you, an enraged black-furred monster bleeding from its right eye socket turned quite smug now knowing that you were completely, utterly trapped.

It’s when the white wolf soundlessly drags a deep wound into your thigh while the three merely watch is when you ascertain that it is, undoubtedly, the pack leader. You fall back as the beautiful thing toys with you, snatching the front of your thick robe and shredding it with a sickening rip. You scream for the first time this entire chase, grabbing at Taehyung’s scarf in fear that it got caught along with it, caring for it more than your own life at this point.

The scream must have been piercing enough to discombobulate your attacker, it’s large ears flitting around as it jumps away from you. It’s even more of a shock when they all flee out of the divide, leaving you bleeding and too traumatized to move an inch. Whatever alarmed them devastates you even more.

The ravens caw loud and the ground vibrates. Watching the birds circle in the sky, you notice the way pebbles begin to crumble from each peak, how snow begins to over pile on such weak grounds and the way it begins to slide inward.

It’s an odd sound; snow sliding against other layers of snow and having so much weight that it pulls a few small trees with it. And this trench-like area only had so much space and you were positive the amount of white that begins to hurl towards you would fill it like a water cup; bury you with absolutely no chance of being able to dig your way out. Despite your fear, you cower at its charge and wait for the weight to hit.

 And then your head lolls back against something wonderfully warm and dry. You were completely soaked but too exhausted to shiver. In your last moments of consciousness, with your neck craned uncomfortably, you see the ground as the sky and the sky as the ground and feathers as feathers. You think of home. Think of warm summers where you would dip your feet in the riverbed. Think of bonfires with Jungkook and Jin and Hoseok and even Taehyung. But everything is still snow and you think you’re beginning to loathe each damned flake. The only comfort you find is the homeliness of the carmine red material that blows softly against your face. With that and the fleeting thought that you might be righteously transported to heaven do you finally pass out.

 Part Four

Yoongi wasn’t particularly fond of humans. Unlike his brothers and sisters that sympathized with such weak creatures enough to put their own lives at risk, it was just something he would never come around to understand. Species were organized and separated for reasons and intermingling was a curiosity that died ages ago for him.

Which is all a hypocritical contradiction when he sees you sleep soundly on his common room couch, changed into dry clothes and buried beneath a heap of duvets. Whatever had possessed him to go after you was pure impulse after the stunt you pulled on him. Prowling around on private property and, more importantly, breaking the village’s strict ritual rules. Catching him going about on what would be another unmomentous day in his schedule, creating enough of a ruckus to capture his attention, and then fleeing as a feeble mouse.

It’d be a lie if he had said he didn’t watch you scramble away down the steps from the comfort of his front door and a fresh coffee in hand, watching you stumble over nothing on your way. It was more when you had left your things like a pure imbecile, food and tools and all, and left without even waiting for the incense to finish burning. It was then that he came to the conclusion that you were incredibly clumsy and that served as entertainment to him.

The howls were his test of will. Knowing the dogs were way farther up the mountain than they normally were and supposing they had followed your poor, unfortunate soul during your trek, waiting for the perfect time to strike. And you were practically handed to them on a silver platter, considering you’d left your only knife on the cold wood of his porch.

Maybe he had come down, grumpily disturbed from his peaceful Saturday, more to save himself from cleaning the remnants of someone eaten in his vicinity more than the compassion to save you. But that was a tad bit too cruel, even for him. He thinks it was more of that uniquely curious glint in your eyes as you practically skipped into his sight. Daring enough to ignore those rather ridiculous warnings and try your luck. Delicate as a deer in hunter’s perspective. As often as he’d go out to restock supplies in neighboring towns would he never come across a visitor in his own domain. Call him quaint, but it was a mediocre surprise.

He prods the fire, making it crackle and reflame with more vigor. It had barely been a few hours since he’s saved you by the skin of his teeth, almost caught in the landslide himself.

He checks the wound on your leg once more, cleaning it again before securing it in bandages. If only he had gotten there faster, Yoongi tsks, but you’d strayed from the path and he could only follow the prints so quickly before they were covered by the flurry. By the time he found you again, you were knelt in front of the pack and submitting to your death. Had he not been on a hill, had he not been able to utilize his useless wings to glide down before the snow had claimed you first…

You groan softly, unable to roll around without a searing poker sinking into your thigh with each attempt. Contrast to the icicle state the rest of your body sported. You felt like hell. Like hell in hell guarded by those hounds. Hell in your thigh and hell in your head and hell in—

“Don’t move too fast. You have a fever and I just replaced your bandages,” a disembodied voice orders. Your eyes snap open to tall, wooden ceiling. Sitting up is your first horrible mistake, dropping back down immediately with a pained wheeze.

“I just said not to move too fast. If you can sit up normally, you should drink some water. I have some here,” it speaks again. You try again cautiously, blurry spots ruining your vision the farther up you scoot. A silhouette is kneeling beside you, maybe a cup in his hand but you’re too jumbled to confirm.

Yoongi tries his best to fold in on himself, lowering the obvious limbs stuck to his back and appear as human as possible. You wouldn’t be able to run again in your state but he tries his best to be courteous to your skittishness anyway.

“Where… Where am I?” You dazingly question. You don’t really… recall too much. Last memory somewhat muddled between your send-off and contact with those treacherous wolves, very few in between and serving no importance if you couldn’t remember how it ended.

“You’re safe in my house. In the mountains still. You passed out pretty good out there, been out for a bit. Now drink.”

It’s easy to do as your told with you’re running off little brainpower, downing the water hastily.

The voice scolds, “Hey, slow.”

At some point, you can see again. The blankets that cover you and the large room you inhabit. Of course, the seraph from earlier that awaits by your seat. His seat. But you feel no urgency to scurry into safety. You were discombobulated, sure, but you knew enough that this man was kind enough to bring you into his home and care for you. So you fold back the material slowly and watch his face contort into confusion as you try to stand.

“I’ll be on my way. I’m sorry to have bothered you. Thank you for treating me.”

“Woah now. You’re in no condition to be standing. Besides, the path is blocked. Snow was too heavy and caused a slide. I doubt it’ll clear until the spring,” he informs, looking out the window as if to drag your own attention to it. The snow stopped but it’s fallen a few feet, at least. The path, you remember, chased by wolves and led into an ice trap. The few split moments in which the man must have scooped you up before your demise, remnants of being carried back towards his estate.

His place, in which is even more amazing inside than it was outside, a luxurious wooden mansion of sorts, tall and spacious and filled with those incredible windows that displayed better than you could have ever dreamed. The man himself that sits beside you draws full attention. Despite his position, he was large and still intimidating as the moment you crossed sights for the first time. Hair matching his wings in dark palette, soft and delicate looking. His face anything but, sharp eyes and thick brows, lips that curved into a simper. Above all, he looked more human. Even as radiant and prepossessing as he was, if the cape of wings didn’t follow him where he went he would look just as human as the rest of the population.

“Are you a seraph?” You ask dumbly. Dumb, because he laughs and because he obviously is.

“Are you a human, pretty thing?” He retorts. There’s no condescending lilt to his words but it makes him seem otherworldly to you. With such a provoking question and your lightheadedness, he seemed a blessing to be inhabiting such an earth.

You melt into the cushions once more, leg throbbing and eyes heavy. You watch his wings as they bob with his breath, “They say it’s bad luck to lay eyes on the wings of an angel…”

“Why would that be?,” he scrunches his nose, maybe a little appalled by the idea, “Such a misleading myth. Besides, I’m no angel.”

You don’t know why he stands to leave the room after that, unnoticing how you fall back into sedation a minute later.

 Part Five

You wake with clarity. Check your thigh to find it almost completely healed over except a now lingering scar. All’s left is a dull soreness but god it felt so much better. Enough to stand and stretch in the empty room. Enough to coherently realize that you only wear your underwear while the rest of your garments hang torn and sadly on the fireplace screen. It’s not as unbecoming if it had to be done for the sake of your health and wellbeing, right?

Getting dressed is easy when you don’t even bother with your robe, the gash decreeing it useless and instead tying Taehyung’s scarf around your shoulders as a shawl over your tank. You’re lucky it didn’t get torn.

There’s a fleeting moment where you really think you miss Tae, feeling a little regretful to being so afraid of his proposal in light of the recent accident. You’re sure he must be worried sick; must think you’ve perished under the debris and snow if he’s come to look for you. As his best friend, you solemnly wish he was here to hug you close and promise that it would all be okay. To fend off your shame and welcome you back into the village with teary eyes and a warm smile.

“Ah, human. You’re awake.”

You whip around to discover fox eyes in the door frame, poorly lit now that it’s nighttime. The moonlight pairs well with how it sits on his milky skin, almost something out of a painting.

“It’s Y/N. Not ‘human’.” You answer a little sharper than you mean. He notices too, quick to wave it off since he really had popped up out of nowhere. He tries your name once on his own tongue, a satisfying thing to say.

“Pleased to meet you. I’m Min Yoongi, in case you don’t want to call me seraph all the time.”

You suddenly grab your thigh, rubbing it over your pants in questionable disbelief, “How long have I been asleep? My leg is almost fully healed…”

He rubs at his eye, a little nonchalant about the scene at hand, “Only overnight and throughout the day today. It’s probably quarter to nine about now. I had medicine to help your cuts heal over nicely. Call it, uh, advanced seraph technology.”

The gashes hadn’t been incredibly deep to begin with, thankfully not going any further than the first layer of skin and just really causing some bleeding, but it was still amazing. The feeling is short lived. Even if only a day, you’ve overstayed your welcome.

“Thank you, um, Mr. Min. For saving my life and everything after that. I’d like to repay you sometime. But for now I’m afraid I should be heading back, I’ve stayed for too long. I’m sure I can find some way over the path.”

It dawns on you that Yoongi is a little facetious, especially when he purrs a, “Well you can do whatever your little heart desires, but I’m here to remind you that there is no path. Here, look out the window.”

You do, tiny bit distracted when he stands by you to point out the ridges of the mountains that surround you. “See those? How they curve in towards the top and how it sort of resembles a bowl? This area was made only for seraphs to get in and out of generations ago; flight only. Trying to climb it would be suicide on both sides. The path that goes through was strictly for human use, and if that’s blocked, there’s no way out, little one.” You weren’t the shortest in your village but Yoongi truly was massive, both lanky and filled-out somehow. Like there’s underlying strength to his lean build. You’re sure if you were to stand directly in front of him, the top of your head would barely surpass his sharp shoulders.

You disregard his name for you, a bit annoyed at this point, “Could you not fly me over the pass?”

Yoongi repeats in disbelief of such a daring request, “Fly… You over the pass… No. I’m sorry. I won’t do that. If you truly want to figure it out, you should do so soon. It's storm season."

Gritting your teeth, you express your discontent for once. What did he save you for, then? For points? You didn't know members of the almighty seraph clan were so keen to half-completed deeds. "And why not? Wouldn't you rather I be on my way? What am I supposed to do if I can't leave?"

"You forget yourself, Y/N. Did I not save your life? Chase after you and save you from being crushed? Buried alive?" He takes a second to straighten himself out, aware of how you look to your feet in frustration.

"Hey," he starts again, "I know you'd like to go home. I only tell you the truth of your situation in its entirety. If I could fly you over the pass I would but unfortunately, I'm out of commission."

You feel heat in your face, embarrassed of the way you address a complete stranger even after all the things he's done for you. But this was frankly a sticky situation to find yourself in, trapped and unable to get Yoongi to help you any further. Though you do wonder what he means by his last statement...

"I'm... I'm sorry. I don't mean to make demands. I'm just scared and in a place I'm not used to and I'm not quite sure what I'm to do from here. Is there no one else who can help me over?"

Yoongi averts his gaze before he shakes his head, "I'm the last one in this country."

That's even more odd to hear but you don't prod for information that isn't yours to learn.

In silence, you contemplate the work that even went into carrying another human body by use of wings that were structurally built for the owner's own weight and possibly nothing else. Now was not the time to be ignorant.

“What am I supposed to do?” You mumble weakly. Yoongi watches your gears turn warily, stress surely beating down on you.

He rubs his neck, ruffles his left wing, “Listen. I promise I’ll help you back come spring. You won’t be able to make a dent in the landslide as long as it continues to build with snow every night.” He tends to forget that humans are pack animals, often lost without one another and feeble in the hands of species not of their own.

Your doe eyes, beginning to well with tears, convince him over tenfold, “I’ll help you in any way possible to pay you back for all the things you’ve done. I know I’ve caused nothing but trouble but if you have the room, is it possible I stay here?”

And Yoongi had enough vacant rooms to house a whole herd of deer now that he’s been alone for these sum of years. It really was no trouble… and he could make use of you as long as you stayed. His brow shoots up, “You can stay.”

Your grin is enough to light the whole room encased in night’s darkness, looking back down to the ground now knowing you had some hope to hold onto in such an eventful day. A whisper of a thank you Mr. Min is thrown in and Yoongi can feel his fists tighten.

He clears his throat, standing a little taller than he already is and acting strict, “But there are some rules. And you can just call me by my first name.”

 Part Six

 It's always a little weird trying to adjust to new scenery. Though your past experiences have been anticlimactically different than this; not exactly the first time visiting a friend's house or dropping off delivered goods from Seokjin's shop and awkwardly facing an elder who forces you to stay for tea.

Yoongi had shown you around the areas you needed to know. Offered you the closest room to the main part of the house with a king bed, fresh sheets and your own majestic window to stare out of. The living room which you had rested in before and the kitchen, grand and spacious just like everything else. He showed you a greenhouse out back that was utterly ginormous. Stone walkways and a hot compost keeping it from freezing, rows of plants you both have and haven't witnessed before. And again, he showed you what you needed to know.

That goes onto the chores he assigned you as long as you stay, to help him clean come Sundays and manage the plants throughout the week which served as no problem. At least with horticulture you proved some use, struggling throughout the weekend to do anything else but cause Yoongi a bit of a headache.

Tuesday rolls around and Yoongi stops by your room with stationary. Tells you he has a messenger bird to deliver any letters you desire to send home and you hop on the opportunity quicker than the landslide had tried to eat you up.

Of course, it was an exceptionally long letter. Longer than the papers Yoongi had given to you and he had to fetch more when you looked absolutely devastated sitting at your desk. You began with the simple phrase, "I'm okay." Filling it with a volley of explanations and apologies, how you were nearly killed, how the seraph had scooped you up to safety and how you inhabit his home now until further notice. You write how you talk, sure the recipients are sure to read in hushed mumbles and run-on sentences. You explain that there's no use to try to get home now while the clouds continue to precipitate and gate your only exit from the bowl-like wonderland. You end with how you miss them already, a request to send back an update or two every once in awhile, and a final wish to have a happy winter without you (though you're sure they won't appreciate that joke).

You think, if they really receive the letter, how terribly furious they'll be with you. Taehyung and Jungkook will probably come hiking up the mountain to try to put a dent in the debris and fail miserably. Your aunts and how they must feel even the tiniest bit of guilt for thinking you so small and helpless. Mina and her jealous wonder that you've done it now, how you've seen a seraph before her and you're positive she'll have a flurry of questions when you return. When you return.

You come out onto the balcony to pay your respects to your so-called "messenger", pretty white thing large and wide-eyed. Humorous is the familiar to another winged being, bird of a feather, you chuckle to yourself. Yoongi pays no attention when he murmurs directions to the bird and sends it off, straight in the direction you were hoping.

Thursday and you think you finally have your routine down. No longer unsure in the hallways and able to sit when your work is done without feeling completely out of place. It's only when you're around the other member of the cabin do you feel a little subdued, reminding you that you burden him and quickly finding something to do out of that guilt.

❋

Today you feel a bit sluggish. You drag yourself down the corridor, opting for the bath until you see a dark head in an open room. Yoongi sits in his study, presumably reading with his back facing you. You can't say you've seen this room before, ceilings just as tall and walls just lined with books, journals, art pieces and things of the like.

"You can come in," he snickers suddenly, maybe feeling the heat from your eyes boring into the back of his head and warming the space entirely.

"This is amazing... Your collection, I mean." You force yourself down in a chair, hands trapped underneath your thighs in case they feel like touching anything.

"Thank you. It took quite a bit of time to build it up. Not by myself, of course."

It makes you ponder. If he's mentioned his state of loneliness twice, then your questions were expected.

"There were more, right? Family of yours? Why are you the only one left?"

"One question at a time, yeah?" He swivels around and takes off a pair of reading glasses that you would have liked to inspect on his face a bit more, "I can't leave because I can't fly, remember? They left because they held no other duty tied to this land. That's all."

You quiet. He returns to reading whatever it is on his flat desk. "Why can't you fly?"

"Because I was hurt."

"How were you hurt?"

"Next question."

"What are you reading?"

"A story of a girl with a terrible habit of too many inquiries."

"You know, I loved to read when I was a kid. All kinds of things. Novels, studies, maps even. Now I never have the time for such pleasantries." A wistful sigh leaves your lips.

Yoongi eyes you beneath his lashes, watches as you survey the room with giddiness and hands taut underneath your bum. "Why's that?"

You frown, "Too many things to do. Jobs and cleaning and family and stress. If I have time to read, I have time to be doing something more important."

His lips curl, amused at this little play-thing in his room. Like a child scolded all her life, whining and pouting in front of a stranger. Yoongi stands tall and shrugs his sweater tighter around him, "Well then, you'd better hop to it."

"Hm?" You squeak, chewing on your lip when you meet his eyes. So innocent.

"You only have the winter to read these. I'd get started soon. After work is done and you want to poke around in here, feel free to do so. Take them to your room if you'd like, just please return them."

And he swears he sees damn stars in your eyes before he turns and leaves the room. He hears your immediate footing once he's halfway to his room, little yelps of excitement enough as his thanks. Yoongi can't help but smirk, eventually floating away and speaking way out of earshot for you to hear.

"Nothing is more important than the things you want."

 Part Seven

 After a month, you find it a little boring. After receiving a teary letter of how your family misses you, not one ounce of scold or chastisement more than it was just wholesome relief to see familiar handwriting, their only wish was for you to stay obedient and not write so often as to waste poor Yoongi's paper. It was typical, somewhat stress-relieving. And that was that.

It was often you spent your quiet interest reading of botany and romance (in what little you found of it) preferably in his study on days he's holed up in his room. At this point, he still remains somewhat of a mysterious entity, conversing when he must and accidentally showing his face once or twice like a ghost. The only times you really see him are for Sundays with idle chit chat.

One particular evening you find an old, ratty recipe book. Handwritten and falling at the seams and that's how you know that there are some golden tips in there for you to test out.

You choose pumpkin bread. Something to warm the palette while ice continues to build outside. And working in Yoongi's kitchen by yourself was oddly fulfilling, no one to correct you or send you off to another job if you fail to do the first. It's probably why your bread turns out perfect, slicing the loaf and placing a piece on a small plate for a friend.

Rather, someone you'd like to establish as a friend.

You haven't seen him once today; not odd but a little lonely. Pacing on the carpets and looking for an open door with any sign of a sly angelic being. Even after a month, it's the first time you've freely made something with intents of sharing with him. Was that rude of you?

Coming upon a jarred entrance, you speak softly, "Yoongi? Are you in there?"

No reply.

You clear your throat and toe the door open just enough to stand in its frame, "Yoongi? I made some pumpkin bread for us—"

Thank your soft voice does it not wake him, still a snoring log in a bed even larger than yours. His limbs sprawled widely, laying on his stomach and breath soft and slow. Sleeping in the middle of the day while his guest slaves over the stove must be quite nice, huffing subtly and placing his plate on his night desk. Sure to be spoiled even more when he wakes to a treat.

As you turn, your eyes can't help but dawdle over the expanse of his wings. One covering a naked back and one hanging off the side of the bed, a marbling effect of muddled sepias and ink blacks, occasional golden ochre pigments seeping through the deepest layers of feathers. It was utterly breathtaking. This has to be one of the first opportunities you've had to inspect them so, equating staring at his monstrously large wings the same as blatantly staring at his junk.

You draw close like a moth to a damn flame, checking to assure he's still sound asleep. Reaching delicate fingers, you dare to lay a palm on the mass. It's surprisingly strong, an odd firmness as you slide your hand down silky plains and watch as the feathers ripple by your touch.

Then, as if you weren't dumb enough to foretell the upcoming events, he wakes.

A whirl of darkness encases you, whips you around so fast that you see stars in the middle of day, completely flipped and pinned to the bed beneath you. The intense heaviness makes you recoil, unable to budge your wrists and legs with Yoongi's strength.

And his face of unadulterated fury is one that would be ingrained into your memories forever. Pupils dilated and nose scrunched like prey warding off predator. Yoongi was surprised to say the least, a scared frenzy of confusion as he growls down at you.

"What were you doing, human?"

Your weeping gains no mercy, "Ow, you're, you're hurting me!"

"What the fuck were you doing?" He spits.

Incoherence is not what he asks for but that's all you can give, "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I won't touch them again I was just—"

His wings which were so beautiful to you before, makes you feel nothing but fear now, flapping angrily as he keeps his balance and shrouding you in shallow lack of light. When he lets up on his grip, you gasp like he also held your breath. Immediate relief streams through your blood, though he continues to trap you between his thighs. He asks you again and you sob.

"You know what happened the last time I let one of your kind close? Nearly fucking killed me for no reason. You know why I can't take you down the mountain? Why I'm stuck here by myself? Because a goddamn human stole my ability to fly. I can't fly anymore, do you understand me? That's all that I was and they took it!"

Yoongi sees the pity etching onto your face like some sort of charity case. With your pathetic excuse for tears that claim to sympathize with him and it makes the bile in his throat grow. As for you, you could have never imagined such a travesty. Those words that seem to bounce around in your skull, to be wholesomely one thing and to be rid of it by someone else's doing, you could never relate to that.

You itch to relieve his pain in some way as if he never lashed out on you to begin with. Like you were the one truly at fault here even though you know it's a two-way situation. Your hands struggle to not touch his face, to attempt to alleviate those dark, regretful feelings. "Yoongi, I'm so sorry. I would never—I would have never known--I'm from one of the villages where we look up to the—"

"Yeah, well I don’t trust people," He cracks, lungs filled with muddled sorrow.

Both of your breathing is ragged. He takes his leave off your body and sits on the edge of the bed, wings lamely drooped.

"Leave." So you do.

 Part Eight

 You find the most beautifully carved wooden bow the next morning. Sun barely risen and adventuring around in nooks you haven't looked through before. You find it, accompanied by plenty of arrows, leaning against the wall right outside the backdoor. Though it's been months since you've last hunted, you ache to make use of yourself. Wearing bundled layers of the clothes Yoongi let you borrow from what was left and bounding through the condensed areas of the woods behind the cabin.

Food isn't scarce to hunt for, you've come to realize. Rabbits abundant and easy to kill once you got the hang of it once more. Two are struck and red seeps through white. You always sink your knees into the ground after each kill, whispering your thanks before you move back to the house.

Taehyung's father had taught you the basics of hunting and fishing and everything that came after that. Skinning and cooking and preserving the flesh something everyone in the village should learn to do, he had said. Even after your mistakes, even after your hesitation for your first kill, he'd always pat you on the back and reward you with the first bite of fresh food.

You miss them all, especially now. It wouldn't be long until you saw them again with maybe a bit of heightened skills. You hope they'll be proud of you.

Yoongi wakes a little after you're finished cooking the first rabbit. He stumbles in quiet and groggy, as if having no recollection of the previous altercation. But he doesn't speak, doesn't so much as look your direction before he plops at the head of the dining room table and begins to sulk in an odd inner-turmoil state.

You wait a minute or two by garnishing the meat unnecessarily; perhaps he was waiting to say something. To apologize. To ask questions. To kick you out once and for all. Well, you'll beat him to it then.

You set his plate down in front of him, the jarring sound breaking his trance enough where he can finally meet your face.

"I hope you don't mind I used your bow. I cleaned the arrows afterward and put it back where I found it," you hesitate. "I appreciate your kindness thus far; to take me in like this. I was a complete stranger and you gave me shelter anyway, so I thank you. I've packed and cleaned and I—I think it's time I leave now. I'll find a way to get over, I don't care. And I'm, I'm so sorry for all the trouble I've caused, Yoongi. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable but I overstepped my boundary way too far yesterday and I apologize profusely."

You find that you dig your nails into your palms as you talk, head craned parallel to the floor and you wonder if Yoongi could even hear you when you were so rudely speaking to the rugs.

"Stop, you don't... You don't have to leave. There's still no way you can get over the snow." He massages the back of his neck, tense in his own skin.

"I'm so sorry," you repeat. "I let my stupid curiosity get the best of me and I can very clearly see how that made you feel alarmed and uneasy and—"

He cuts you off, "You know the myth, right? How it's bad luck to see a seraph's wings?"

Confused, you nod.

"It's not literal. It's a metaphor that it's bad luck to see our vulnerabilities. Our faults. Years and years and years ago, when the war was still active, I got mixed up with a human. Within enemy boundaries. I was naive and trusting and they made use of that. They sought out my weaknesses, ate 'em up and covered my suspicions with false adoration and love," he says the word like it's an illness, "But then. But then one night, they put something in my water. Drugged me. Something was wrong and I didn't fully go under. I suppose their original plan was to take me, probably torture me as a prisoner. But I caught on and still had a bit of composure and when they realized the drugs didn't work, they sought to kill me instead. Used a dagger and plunged it into my back as hard as they could. Right," he reaches an arm behind and massages a spot, "Right in the cross-section of where all four wings meet. I should have been paralyzed but we're tough. I can still move them but I haven't been able to fly since. Thank heavens I wasn't killed but..."

You can tell by the way that there’s no emotion in his statement, how true it rings, "That day, I might as well have been."

You wipe the pools of tears with your scarf, heartbroken for the shattered man that sat in front of you. Having to bear the sight of his wings every day and full-knowing he would never be able to use them again.

His voice croaks, "In their eyes, my own family's eyes, I commit a sin just by making such a fool of myself. The war ended and I was punished. They left me here and claimed loneliness is what I deserve."

Yoongi then realizes he sounds as if he's trying to justify yesterday's actions and literally sinks to the ground, "This isn't supposed to be a pity party. I just thought you might want to know why I am the way I am and how I had no right to snap like I did. I know you're from the north most village. And that you would never try to do what they did and I was wrongfully paranoid."

Then, out of all things unexpected, he grabs a bare ankle and lifts it out of the length of your dress. When you hobble, he grabs your gentle hand with his other to balance you. He can see the marks he left, not too dark but enough to tell and he can't help but despise himself. In pure remorse, he presses his lips softly to each bruise, not lingering for more than a second, before cowering to the ground with his head low.

"My sincerest apologies, Y/N. You don't have to leave if you don't want to. I prefer if you wouldn't. I'd like to get to know you and redeem myself, as selfish as that may seem. Maybe, until spring, I can make up for the things I've said and done—"

You sputter, voice too high and full of embarrassment as you struggle to pull him up, "Please! P-Please get up! I am at fault here! Don't kneel, please! You have nothing to make up for!"

Mouth agape and eyes wide, he watches you yell your affirmations and weakly tug on his arm. It was like watching a little kid throw a fit and that makes him chuckle aloud, how could he have ever suspected you as harmful? When your large eyes shed tears like no other and you impulsively make decisions for others before yourself. You were kind and he could see that. He laughs hard and you stop your squawking.

In disbelief you fall to your knees right beside him, looking plain stupid while you're at it. It occurs to you that you've never heard him laugh like this, smile so wide that his eyes crescent endearingly and it just lights up the room. After watching his handsome face radiate forgiving happiness, you join in too.

You eat rabbit together. The conversations from there on out easier to come up with, more emotional and found in the midst of tranquil understanding. Like you now shared a bit more of each other than before.

Occasionally, you think of all the sadness he must have accumulated until now. Of the things that happened to him that shouldn't have, and those years of isolation and abandonment that he suffered. But now you realize, too, how he's able to laugh and continue on despite those melancholy winters in a desolate place that he once called home. How it's all he can do as his only sign that he's still alive.

 Part Nine

The weeks after that seem to breeze past you; time racing when you have more things to do and someone to do it with. Yoongi really meant it when he said he would try to make up for his past harshness; never daring to miss a meal, spending more time in the livelier rooms if it meant that it was to accompany you, going as far as helping you out with your own chores if he hadn’t taken them over entirely. It was a polar opposite of who you knew before.

The first time he joined you to hunt again, in favor of how you had cooked his meat the last time, he layered himself in clothing that made his appearance softer than you’d ever imagined. Leaning towards darker garments that contrasted against his opalescent skin.

In some haughty attempt to show off your archery skills do you aim for a squirrel in a less-than-mediocre angle, letting the arrow fly without a second thought and piercing good ol’ trunk. Yoongi had a fabulous time laughing at your mishap, yanking the wasted arrow from the bark and handing it back to you.

“That was a horrible shot,” he said.

The temperature of your cheeks could have melted the snow, taking the thing with shaky, embarrassed hands, “I was being hasty.”

“You got two rabbits. I know you’re good. Let me just show you some things.”

You walked behind, letting him tread through the snow first so it was easier for you to fall into his prints.

“There. Squirrel,” he whispered. Probably the same one, mindlessly crawling up and down trees like target practice.

“Let me see your form again.” You aimed, self-conscious and probably showed it. You shivered when he swiped a hand under your grip arm, pushing it back.

“Keep it aligned with how the arrow is facing. Completely centered. You can widen your feet a little too,” his voice soft. “Don’t completely lock your elbow but tighten your back muscles before you hold. Does that make sense?”

“Mm. It won’t stop moving though, the squirrel.”

“Watch this.”

Then Yoongi had dug through the snow for a small stone with enough weight to throw. Aiming for a far tree to the right, he tossed just hard enough to cause a knock to echo in its vicinity. The squirrel halts, presumably looking for what caused the noise in its unknowing last thoughts.

“Shoot.”

And it landed perfectly.

He watched you silently each time you had knelt next to the victim and mutter your thanks, both sorrowful and appreciative. It was the first time he ever witnessed someone, frankly, talking to dead animals and at some point he asked you why you did so. You responded with a giggle, briefly claiming how all living creatures deserve the same respect, to be mourned, to not be wasted. Yoongi finds interest in the concept of valuing each as their own and of the same importance in the Grand Circle of Life, probably something his family would never have stopped to think about. The seraphs had always placed themselves above others in a deserving, self-righteous kind of way. It made him think.

❋

A particularly windy night and you caught him in the seat of his study's window, drawn to the mirage of colliding trees and listening to the croaks of the house on its plot. A muddled bottle sat on his desk, its glass counterpart being twirled in his hand.

"Do you like storms?" You asked.

"I didn't used to," he answered, unfazed by your sudden entrance, "Caused problems a lot of times. But I think they're pretty fun nowadays. And you?"

"I like when there's thunder and lightning."

Yoongi faced you at that, your twiddling fingers and the way you scanned the dim room.

"Would you like to join me for a drink?" Although it was a question he poured you one anyway, barely anything more than a few sips worth. Obliging, you took the liquid. Pride a little stung in all honesty, pretty aware of your high tolerance.

He tittered, "Don't pout. You can pour as much as you'd like. But this stuff is ancient, concocted from poison and the desire of Death itself. Watch yourself."

It was always a trait of yours to take on a challenge, though, ignoring his warning and foolishly gulping it down. The burn was subtle despite its awful, awful taste, yet you poured another and let Yoongi watch you spiral down the rabbit hole.

Two stories and one half-glass later and you draped yourself very unladylike on his desk, too warm and too moist and too loud.

"Yoongi..."

"Yes?"

"Min... Min. Mr. Yoongi."

"That's wrong but that's me."

"Yoongi you have to keep a secret. That I'm going to tell you! From Yoo—from Yoongi!"

"Wait, that you're trying to keep a secret from me or—"

You must had forgotten, instead focused on bunching your skirt and tying it higher up your thighs, "Soooo hot. Too warm. I'm going to leave it like this, ‘kay?"

"You don't have to pass it by me. They're your clothes," he said, biting back laughter. His accidental peak of pretty, bare legs could have made him think different though. Reverting his gaze back out the window, he wouldn't have been surprised to see lightning that night.

Taking his eyes off you wasn't his best idea. Hobbled out of his chair and sneaking to his place with hands buried in feathers before he could shy away. Yet the wonder stained your eyes with childlike amusement and he wouldn't dare change that face. So he idled in a flustered mess, relaxed in the way you unknowingly massaged his muscles.

"Pretty wings, Mr. Yoongi... Can I touch them?" You asked stupidly. Yoongi grumbled.

When you finished evaluating, you swiveled awkwardly and tripped over his knee, a yelp escaping your lips as if he wouldn't catch you in one swift motion and onto the safety of his lap. Yoongi could smell the bite of alcohol that stained your breath; could see how swollen and red and beautiful it had made your gentle face. The proximity was deadly and your innocent, apologetic features could have slain him right then and there. You didn't even make another peep, eyes drooped in what he assumed was embarrassment for your clumsiness.

In which he thought wrong, your hands slapping each side of his face and squishing it together horrifically. "Pretty face, Mr. Yoongi."

"Alright, time for bed."

You fought all the way until he tucked you in, out with soft breaths and sprawled arms. Even after he had laid you down to rest and calmed back in his lair, there was no slowing the fondness that grew in his ribs.

❋

You don’t know when you’ve started looking forward to Sundays, springing out of bed in the morning with a green thumb and a will to dig, or so you imagine. You knew Yoongi would be waiting for you in the greenhouse and spent a little extra time rinsing your face, doing your hair, and double-checking nothing was in your teeth.

Yoongi was already checking the pots when you had gotten there, wrapped in black per usual and winking as you walked by. The familiarity by now was tangible. There was always a nice flow to your conversations and Yoongi doesn’t back away when you naturally find yourself in his space like he used to. It was both a prideful accomplishment and an endearing new relationship that sparked joy every time you were able to do something together. To step back and see the difference over your time spent here, the things you’ve done, and the way Yoongi warms up slowly.

He watches you mindlessly hum as you harvest what you can, voice soothing when most times it would have been dead quiet. That’s what it felt like being around you: like a void suddenly filled, his whole being gravitating to your aura. You were addicting, if he had to admit.

The scarf, somehow pristine despite how often you wear it, is shuffled up your neck as you do one thing or another. Like a constant reminder that it’s there, you always feel the need to touch it.

Yoongi points to it, “Did you make that yourself?”

“Hm?” You follow his line of sight and crumple the red thing in your hands, “Ah! No. It… It was a gift.”

“Ooh, from a suitor?” He doesn’t mean any harm when he jests but it prompts the things you’ve left at home. No matter how much you’ve tried to suppress it down and not nitpick on the responsibilities you’ll have to return to. Awful as it seems, it makes you take notice to the sun and how it begins to peak out more with every day. You push the thought down once more.

Instead you laugh nervously. Yoongi knows immediately when you say nothing but, “Mmm…”

His gut twists from a melting of surprise and disappointment. How could he be so dim? To not even hypothesize the mere possibility of someone else being in your life. Though the feeling weighs heavy on his head, he speaks lightly and with a smirk.

“You must miss him then.”

“Yes. Of course. We’ve known each other since birth and have been best friends for as long as I can remember!” You chuckle, “He gave this to me right before I left and claimed we could get married once I returned. I was so shocked that I made myself sick thinking about going back. Just nervous, I suppose.” Taehyung, as expected, never said anything in the occasional letter updates to you. He meant it when he said he would only wait to talk about it for when you came home but you ponder how he feels now; what he’s been doing. If he’s changed his mind once he’s realized how incapable you are that you couldn’t even do the Offering correctly, but you know that isn’t true. Maybe just wishful thinking.

You throw dead leaves in the compost and Yoongi eyes you.

“’Shocked’? It’s not something you’ve been looking forward to?”

You look down, “It’s not that I—I don’t know! I just have seen him as family for so long and then there’s this sudden proposal without even talking about it beforehand… And everyone expects it. For me to just be married and have a family and all of that but I just, I just don’t see that for me so soon.” Your words begin to jumble and Yoongi hasn’t seen you so stressed within the span of twenty seconds before.

“Forgive me and my input but isn’t the most important thing what you want? You could just turn down his proposal,” He suggests like it’s the easy answer, hoping you don’t suspect a hopeful tone in there.

“Does it really matter what I want?” You stop to think about the people who matter to you and what would ease their minds most when it comes to your future. Marrying Taehyung seemed like the only option. “I can’t turn him down simply because I don’t want to. That’s selfish.”

“That doesn’t make very much sense to me.”

“Well,” you sigh, “in the village it’s courtesy to accept a marriage proposal regardless of how you feel. It’s the receiver’s obligation to be grateful towards—”

“Is that how humans treat their women?” Yoongi spits, agitated just by the thought. He leans against a table next to you, arms crossed like he’s simply not having it, “To ignore your own say and force you to think you should just be appreciative? That’s some bullshit.”

“It’s not as serious as I’m making it seem it’s just…” You think of your aunts and the elders and Taehyung’s mom. How you’ve grown into a nuisance, lacking here or there. The time where you were supposed to return to the village after a successful Offering and marry and finally be someone to be proud of. “In my case, especially, it’s probably better off I’m just someone’s wife. I’ve never been much to begin with.”

And that’s truly heartbreaking for Yoongi to hear, so much that he becomes enraged with whatever twisted society you grew up in, “Y/N. What have you been doing these last few months?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“I mean, what have you been doing? Just sitting around? Watching me sweep circles around you? Serve your meals on a silver platter and draw your baths? No, because you’ve been doing that yourself. For yourself. By yourself.” The look of confusion on your face causes him to huff before he continues. “Sure, you were a little rough around the edges with some things but who isn’t? You hunt, you cook, you read like no other, you do a lot of great things and it’s not because you’re trying to do it right. You do it right when you like what you’re doing.”

“Yoongi, I understand. Thank you but you don’t have to—”

He walks toward you, lecturing on. “I know it’s by unwanted circumstances. But has your time here been horrible? Have you despised being here and doing these things?”

Your answer is immediate, “No. Not at all.”

“Has it not been nice to have your own space and do things simply because you want to? Because you were thinking of yourself?”

“I-It has been… I don’t know where you’re getting at.”

Your legs hit the corner of another table and you notice he’s backed you up into it.

“So, you go back and you do what you want like you have here. Don’t worry about what they think. Wait until you’re ready. Marry for absolute, unwavering love. Be a little selfish,” Yoongi hooks your chin with his index and props it up. You didn’t even realize you were looking to the ground. “Look up.”

Your heart stammers, “But Taehyung…”

So Taehyung is his name, Yoongi thinks. He frankly does not care.

“Do you love him?”

“W-What?

“Perhaps I was mistaken. Do you want to marry Taehyung because you truly love him?”

You see his lips before you hear his words, parted and nearing you bit by bit. So close that you feel his warmth, aching to close the distance. “I…”

A shovel clatters onto the stone and Yoongi removes his arm that’s found its way around your back, shuffles backwards and lets your hand fall from his face. It was natural to touch him, you realize, unaware that you feel distant and cold when he’s away.

Yoongi picks the damn thing up and curses. It wasn’t like him to be so forward, close to doing the unimaginable to you. You, who was involved with someone else. Heading towards the door, he ruffles his wings like he’s restarting.

“Forget I said that,” he requests, “I’m going to wash up.”

You nod, frozen in your spot with legs too unstable to dare walk. Without even knowing you had reached for him, so close to doing something you’ve only been secretly daydreaming about of recent and how incredibly wrong it was for you to think this way. But in another sense, you would feel worse lying to yourself by saying you weren’t attracted to the seraph. It was a twisted contradiction of emotions and you could scream.

Needless to say, you don’t see Yoongi until the next day, and even then nothing is mentioned of the almost.

Part Ten

On Tuesday, the bird returns with a letter from your family and Taehyung. It’s brief, with evident relief that the snow is melting and how happy they’ll be to see your face. Your heart sinks at how much you miss them yet how angry you are to receive the letter. To what extent would they be happy to have you home? Until you dare humiliate Taehyung when you turn him down? To dishonor your name and his parents and gain the glances of people who care more about your failures?

You calm and shoo such immature feelings away. Yoongi is confused when you don’t send a letter back and you return to your room early that night.

❋

You haven’t had a full night’s rest that entire week. You’re sure Yoongi notices the tension and that makes you feel horrible, but the lingering necessity to run to him and never go back to the village is too prominent to just face head on.

He’s been checking the trail every day, making dents on the softer parts of the snow when he can and updating you when he returns. You know he doesn’t want you to leave and you know he thinks you feel the same. Maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t said anything about the proposal that day.

Flipped onto your back, you stare at the ray of moonlight that floats atop your bed. You would miss it here, so much that it hurts your throat. You would miss the windows, the kitchen, the greenhouse, the library that Yoongi was happy to share. It goes without saying that you would miss him the most.

Unprompted imaging of a possible future with him interrupt your thoughts, something so uncertain and fortuitous in comparison to the stone-set fate you have now. What the stoic seraph would think if you just asked him to stay a little longer, until you know you would never leave. The landslide and how much you had hated that unfortunate event seems so insignificant now, replaced with a dimmed appreciation for this life detour, no matter how short lived it will end up.

You’re probably on the verge of sleeping now, thinking of the incident and it’s wild connection to your present out of pure lunacy. You could bet your entire existence on the fact that you were meant to meet him; your entrapment by the snow no mere coincidence. Neither was Yoongi’s endless solitude atop this mountain. It had to be fate that you two were to meet at this moment and your heart feels it so strongly.

Even for you this could be too far-fetched, or maybe you were just trying to cover up the way your heart is undoubtingly falling for Min Yoongi.

 Final Part

 You prod the logs, provoking them to catch more of the fire. In your last night do you decide to pour a glass of wine, kneel on a pile of blankets and snack on the charcuterie board you made for yourself. In the past, you used to be so hesitant about helping yourself to the manor’s amenities, having no problem doing it now.

The lame, weak fire is your only source of light in the large living room, clouds blocking the moon from shining through. You feel, immaturely, just as cloudy. Set in your intentions to leave your feelings locked away as to not cause more trouble, confusion, and inevitable heartbreak.

“You look quite comfortable,” Yoongi surprises you and he can tell when you jolt. Speaking of the devil. He looks great in the dark too, leaning against a wooden pillar with folded arms.

“Well, it feels like I’ve lived here for quite a bit. Just,” you break to sigh with exaggeration, “soaking it in before I leave. Too beautiful to not.”

If not for the crackling between the wood, it’d be dead quiet.

“Would you like to join me?”

He titters, rolling his eyes before he walks your way. Laying on his side, you offer him your glass. “I hope you don’t mind that I used the wine from the ritual contents. With the stuff you normally drink, this must be nothing.”

“Like water to me but I’ll enjoy it nonetheless.”

You cheers to nothing with one glass to share. Occasionally picking off meat and fruit from the board and enjoying how the fire builds up.

“Your family will be so happy to see you.”

You hum. You suppose they would. Avoiding the bitterness you still associate with the thought.

“And I’m sure Taehyung will be too.” He says a little clipped. Not in a way to be facetious or sarcastic but because he feels the need to address it.

Yoongi is caught on the carmine scarf again, downing the rest of your poor wine.

Forcing a smile, you speak faintly, “Let’s not talk about that.”

At this point you both know. He nods to keep you happy, but there is no hiding or pretending. In front of the flames, your lies and justifications seem to melt away unspoken. Changing the subject, you shove him lightly, “You’ll miss me when I’m gone. I don’t think you’ll ever learn to bake as well as I do.”

He tuts, which is refreshing. “I’m great at cooking and baking, I’ll have you know. It was just nice having someone else do it for once.” You feign betrayal and scoff aloud. He mumbles low, “But I’ll miss you for more reasons than that.”

And he breaks an unmade promise not to bring it up again. Feeling the need to throw it out in the open and even with the simplicity of admitting that he’ll miss you, you really know what he means. The seraph feels for you. He feels deeply. Yoongi doesn’t expect a response, just pops more food in his mouth and rests his eyes.

You contemplate, following suit with a bite to a grape and thinking hard. What to do. What to say. How to say it if you did. You weren’t supposed to feel this way and it goes way beyond the rule of even coming in contact with a seraph, let alone unconsciously falling in love with one. 

But that’s just it: how you live by assumptions and rules based off the words of the ignorant villagers and the elders, how they all believe the seraphs are all still here, how they think there’s a direct relation to the Offering and a year’s good harvest, how it’s bad luck to see a seraph’s wings when it’s brought you anything but. If you learned anything from this winter, it was that you found you own way of living, thank the curiosity your home curses you for. Making your own path instead of aimlessly walking one that was already paved. You learned to trust yourself a little more while Yoongi propelled you forward and believed you deserved it all. You learned you did deserve more. You learned what love really felt like when it was new and fresh and exciting and real. And Yoongi. Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi was the wine to your previously empty glass, and this winter with this man, it was heaven.

You decide the realization is enough for you. Have been gifted with so many things and blessings that you’re grateful for the chance to have met someone like him.

“I’ll miss you, Yoongi.”

Yoongi tastes bitter in his mouth. He felt that if all these years left alone in a manor of silence and rejection was to eventually meet you he would do it a million times, but if all you could reciprocate was this then it just wasn’t meant to be for him. It felt unfair but it also wasn’t his decision. He takes the sourness with him and stands. “I suppose I should head to bed.”

Your sad stare breaks his heart, even more so when you give up and nod. The fire catches your attention as it pops and you leave it at that. He tries to walk away, footsteps haunting, until he stops altogether.

It comes unexpectedly when he wraps his arms around you tightly, pressing his knees into your back. A weird sight it is to see his wings unfurl and curl around your rigid body. “Are you satisfied? Is this enough for you?” His voice is soft, like he could take either answer as long as he heard it from you directly.

“No.”

“Why don’t you ask for more.”

“You’ve already done too much for me, how could I possibly ask you for more?”

He hisses liar into your ear. “Is it your family?”

“No.”

“Is it him? Taehyung?”

Here you are again, faced with a question that tore you apart in the garden while you ached to be with Yoongi anyway. But there were no distractions here; nothing to interrupt your thoughts. Just you, Yoongi and your truth. He loosens his grip so you can face each other, knees between knees. Instinctively, you reach out for his feathers and indulge yourself with their softness. He pushes his wing into your hand as if to bribe you like a child.

He grows impatient, “Do you love him?”

You don’t waver, “No.”

A quick glint in his eye, a sort of relief, and then he finishes what he’s started and kisses you. It’s wrong how right it feels, lonely lips moving in tandem to find comfort in one another. Yoongi leans into it, absolutely devastated by your simple touch. The strength of the wine remains on your lips and he can’t help but lick into the flavor, drunkenly entranced by such luxuries. Yoongi’s hands can’t stay, snaking up your back, caressing your face, dragging his knuckles across your jaw and finally grabbing at the scarf. Carefully, he unwraps it from your neck, slow enough to feel it tickle your shoulder blades, before he folds it respectfully and places it elsewhere.

You sigh, more weight taken off your shoulders than there should be.

“Is this okay?” His voice raspy, speaking into the corner of your mouth. You’re stiff, nodding shyly and lacking the fire you brought up until this point.

He rewords, “Do you want me?” Yoongi feels the need to confirm, waiting for this moment for so long that it seems superficial. Like if he’s not careful, you’ll disappear into another one of his many short-lived dreams.

“Of course I want you, Yoongi. I want you more than anything…” But your eyes flicker to the ground, your lip tucked between your teeth.

“Then what’s wrong, lovely? You don’t have to.”

“No! I want to, I just… I’ve never done this before. I want you so bad but I don’t know what I’m supposed to be doing—”

His laughs are light, his hand on the small of your back as he dips you onto the floor. Holding himself above, he plants a soft kiss on your cheek. “You don’t have to do anything. I’ll take care of you. I want you and we’ll go slow and if you decide you don’t want to anymore, we won’t.”

The way he makes you feel, how gentle he is, you couldn’t imagine a more perfect way for this to happen. It eases you slightly, letting your arms snake around him in an attempt to let your guard down. He’s patient and wonderful and you mumble about it. “Mhm, okay.”

The night robe he’s gifted you now poses a problem, his slender fingers looping through the bow that keeps it wrapped, “Can I?” You nod again, and he unties you like his own present. The feeling of being bare in front of him becomes apparent when he sucks in and the heat from the fire dances against your skin. Other than that, you look to the window to avoid his face.

“My love, look at me.”

His commands are easy to follow but you cover your breasts to hang onto your last bit of pride, granting eye contact at the least.

Face flushed, you can tell he, too, is trying his best. “You’re incredible. More prepossessing than I could have ever imagined. You shouldn’t be embarrassed in front of me.”

“Well,” you retaliate, “it’s hard not to be when I’m the only one naked.”

He grins at the challenge, sitting up to shed his layers, never noticing his garments having to wrap around in a way to accommodate to his wings. You just thought it was just a more ornamental way of dressing that the seraphs took to. He’s left down to tight underwear that hugs him incredibly, beautiful milky skin exposed and tinted with golden light. “Satisfied?” He lilts.

“You look like an angel,” you trace indents of faint abs. Wide shoulders that taper into a tiny waist, a slim build that you could study forever.

He kisses your words away, pushing you into plush comforters and pillows. A makeshift nest unintentionally built for the two of you. A groan rewards him when he licks your bottom lip teasingly, taking your wrists swiftly to pin them above you. “Pretty thing, I don’t have a halo.”

He starts from the top, kissing each inside of wrist before moving down your arm, slithering onto your shoulder, then into the crook of your neck with gentle suckles. Teeth grazes before puncturing, eliciting a yelp from you that satisfies him. He does this over and over, decorating the canvas of your neck.

“I want to burn you into my memory. I don’t ever want to forget this,” he moans with a wake left down until he meets cleavage. His muscles were relentless, impatient and eager, wanting to worship ever square inch of your body as you rightfully deserved. Your squeaks serve his purpose, his muse as he continues his ministrations down.

Out of nowhere, “I don’t want you to leave me, Y/N.” The profession makes you giddy, happy you’re not the only one who feels so. A hidden insecurity acknowledged and lifted.

“I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Let’s talk about it after?”

“Mmm.”

He reaches your stomach and doesn’t hesitate to nibble there too, flinching when your hand flies to his head and buries itself in his hair. He ditches his current plan to grab your hand and plant a kiss to your palm in a second, making you giggle.

He admits, “I like when you touch me.”

“I want to. I feel so useless letting you do this alone.”

“You’ll get a chance if you’d like later. But right now, it’s all about you.” Husking it out. Of course, the idea sounds blissful, but the scene of having you cum by his actions sound better. “Need to cherish what’s in front of me properly.”

So he dips dangerously, laving at the skin above the hem of your panties and hooking his fingers under the sides, “Please,” he breathes.

“You… can do whatever you’d like to me. I want it all.”

He tugs his lip between his teeth, pulling it down. An unexpected wetness strings between your skin and the cloth and you both see it; him amazed, you horribly mortified. You stutter trying to explain yourself, oblivious that you could even feel as aroused as you do now. But his forehead falls onto the jut of your hipbone and you can hear subtle teasing in his tone. “I-I’m just as nervous and that was so incredibly sexy. I don’t think I can go on, shit.”

You laugh stupidly. “Quiet! Not another word! Just hurry up and—”

That terrible habit of looking away becomes your biggest fault, unprepared for Yoongi to filthily bury his tongue into your heat. He flattens his tongue and tantalizingly drags up until he can just barely flick your clit with the tip. Growling in the process.

“You are so sweet. The sweetest I could ever have. You will be the end of me.” Rushed in panted breaths as he does it again. And again. And again. So much that the growing sound of wet against wet echoes in the empty room and renders you paralyzed.

The feeling of it makes you squeamish, like you want to move, buck your hips, pull his hair. Despite the lewdness of having his rough tongue against you and lapping you clean, you could never ask him to stop.

“You just… keep getting… wetter…” He says between turns. “You really wanted me this much?”

“Yoongi—ah! Please, I can’t. It feels weird.”

“You don’t want me to continue, my love?” He asks lightly, blowing cold air onto damp skin and really forcing you to buck.

“No! I just… I have never felt like this. I want you to but I can’t sit still.”

“Oh? Let me help you then. But you have to let me finish.” So you shyly nod and loosen your legs. He uses the prompt to scoop them underneath his arms and attach the back of your knees atop his shoulders, your hips curving up and towards him in a new, tight position.

“Yoongi!”

“No matter how you feel, just let it happen.”

Sultry wails are music to his ears when he brutally sucks on your clit, licking your folds here and there and using all his strength to keep you in place. He spells out his love with his tongue, digs it into you sweetly. His power, though, anything but kind.

“Uncover your eyes,” he orders deeply.

You whimper, begging for mercy.

“Look. At. Me.”

Unveiling your view, his stare immediately burns into your veins. Looking at you under dangerously slanted lids and that sinful mouth. Holding you in place with strength that could leave prints into your soft legs. With one roll of your clit under his teeth, you feel in ways you never knew how, as if all the pressure that built up in your abdomen suddenly overflowed with a tight burst. Choked sobs and hand gripping his hair enough to make him moan into you, vibrating wonderfully as he works you through it. 

He lets you go, remnants of syrupy arousal trickling down his chin; watches your legs fall open widely and your chest heave for air. Your features bring him joy, loving the way your hair sticks to your face with sweat, eyes closed, and brows knit together in concentration. He loved seeing you painted in warm hues and although he was never an artist, he could replicate this scene exactly how it’s displayed in front of him.

“How do you feel, lovely?”

You respond with a weak smile. “You’re so cruel… Min Yoongi.” You felt flimsy; weightless. A feeling you could come to love too much if you aren’t careful.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” slithering back up to rest his head in your neck, giving you more kisses like you haven’t had enough. You’re happy he’s back, massaging your hands over his torso, up his neck, down his spine. And then you hit it and he tenses.

Thick and raised, an area between his wings that softly juts out. It was fairly large and the texture varied from the rest of his beautiful planes of skin. It was a scar. Wide as a dagger.

“I wish it wasn’t there. I know it’s—”

“Yoongi, baby.” You nudge him to lift his head and he does unwillingly, face turned away. “My Yoongi, it’s nothing. What happened was horrible but it’s over. And I will do everything in my power to make it up to you by giving all of me.”

His lips stop you tenderly, a whisper of affection that pours out love, “You didn’t do anything. In fact, you’ve made me better. I wasn’t able to feel anything for a long time until you. So. Thank you.”

Any remaining embarrassment vanishes. Not when Yoongi’s done his part and you would do anything to take care of him.

Sweat molds your bodies together, heat emanating from a fire that’s ablaze now. There’s a private summer in this room while winter continues outside and it feels special to you. It’s hot here, hot when Yoongi scrapes his teeth against yours, hot where his pelvis lays. You take notice to the hard thing twitching against your thigh, making you flinch.

“Ah, I’m sorry. And we’re in A Mood and all.” Yoongi snickers.

“Don’t be,” you purr, feeling a bit lustful and reaching down to grab it through the cloth.

He hisses, “Fuck! Fuck, please, I’m so sensitive at the moment.”

Ignoring him, you unskillfully maneuver your fingers around him. Just touching to be familiarized with it. He surges forward accidentally, sighing in your ear as he shamelessly humps the space between your groin. You use his distracted state to pull his shorts down, the sudden reality of his skin touching yours bringing about sensual noises from the both of you. A sudden spurt of precum makes it easier for him to drag his heavy cock against your hip.

“I’m sorry. It just feels so good.”

“Stop apologizing. I’ll help you.” You stare down as you flick your wrist, encircling him with fingers shaped in an o and pumping him slow.

“Squeeze,” he pleads and you oblige.

“Is it… supposed to be this large?” It’s a stupid question to ask, especially when you’re not entirely clueless. You know his size exceeds average proportions.

“Don’t spoil me. Seraphs have always been larger than humans. Height wise, I was the smallest of my brothers though.” Which seemed unimaginable to you, not when he towers over you and could easily devour you in a hug. Cock hanging low and barely able to keep in your single hand. He must be acting coy.

“Now you’re just bragging!”

“I’m just being honest. I’m automatically pleasing to the likes of you,” he chuckles.

The dampness overflows, smears over your skin in incredible amounts and how you wish you could taste out of pure curiosity, but he has other plans for you.

“I don’t think I can hold myself any longer. Please.”

“That’s… fine. Um, should we? Like this?”

“It’s so hot, could you flip on your side?” You roll and he figures he’s made a mistake. Entranced by the way your weight, breasts and soft curves, naturally gravitate down in a seductive pose.

“Like this?” You ask, unaware that he could simply die right now.

He lifts your leg to rest on his shoulder again, easy to stretch. “Perfect, my love. I’m going to go slow. If it’s too much we can try again another time, okay? No rush.”

Challenged by his kindness, you shake your head, “I’m fine. I’m ready.”

Whatever’s left of the arousal between you both is more than enough to let him enter easily. Head of his member no problem to push past that initial tension.

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

But it’s his shaft that makes you keen, entire length seeming endless as he fills you and overloads your maximum space. You cry, nerves making you writhe, “It’s not going to fit all the way—hah…wait.”

Yoongi struggles to hold himself back, perspiration dripping down his nose, “Are you okay? Does it hurt? It doesn’t need to, I’m pretty close to being all the way in anyway.”

“I’m fine,” you pant, head lolled to the side as he stretches you out in an odd, numbing way. “You can… you can move.”

His hips test it, pulling out so little to only be sucked back in with a leveled grunt. “Baby, you’re barely allowing me to.”

“It feels so tight,” you sigh, worried that if you move it’ll really begin to hurt.

“Ah, really? Let’s do this then.” He quick to please, wanting your pleasure before his own and getting you to flip, propped onto your elbows and filled from behind. Smooth chest meets your arched back, him hiding a kiss below your ear while he’s there. A moan aches in your throat as his dick unintentionally digs deeper inside, easier to move and to the hilt.

“Is this better, Y/N?”

“Hah… Yes. Yes, so much better. So good. Please move.”

His hips roll, just enough to grind into you which feels nothing but euphoric in itself. You mimic each other’s lusty whimpers with every movement. Caving into each other’s kisses and licks and pants that you feel synchronized.

Yoongi grows impatient with himself, exaggerating how he pulls out and slams himself back inside. The mere force that he fucks into you sends you forward, opting to lay on your chest and bite the blankets beneath you to keep from screaming. “You feel so good. So, so good. I’m sorry it hasn’t been long, but I feel like…”

His wings fall at his sides and cover you in shadow. It’s weird to see them like this, in a way you could imagine the perspective of having them yourself. But it covers you in unnecessary warmth and makes you grunt.

“It’s hot,” you admit with a quick breath, “Let me on top. I’ll finish.”

The way his member slides out; the way it leaves you tensing over nothing is a sad, needy feeling. You don’t slow at the chance to lay him down and take control, straddling him and watching his face contort in loving awe.

Sitting on him is an entirely different feeling and Yoongi keeps himself from cumming inside you right away, a choke in his throat. “Fuck, fuckfuckfcuk. Y/N, I won’t last like this for long please—”

“I’ll make it quick.” You lean over him, palms to the ground as you start moving, grinding and using him to your advantage. The nerves start again and you shake with pleasure.

“Yoongi, Yoongi, Yoongi!”

Slender fingers dig into your velvety hips as he forces himself into you with harsh, quick jabs. “Baby, I have to cum.” He smooths his knuckles over your cheek, pulling you down into a tongue heavy-kiss in an impossibly fiery caress.

The ramming he enforces take incoherent sobs from your lips. You feel a ghost of a smile, sure Yoongi is enjoying your shameless display of indulgence; coming undone before his very eyes.

You arch into him, clenching tighter and falling onto his chest. With impeccable timing he pulls out, strings of hot white flooding between your stomachs.

“A lot,” you complain.

“Mmm. Because I’ve been waiting so long to have you.”

Without the pressure of moving, you lay on him despite the humidity. Petting the underside of his wings as they drape so gracefully against the blankets and the rug.

“Yoongi?”

“Yes?”

“I need to go home tomorrow.”

His heart sinks, “Oh?”

“To see my family. To come home and let them know I’m okay.”

“Yes, of course.” He’s afraid that you won’t come back, though.

“And… to turn down Taehyung’s proposal in person.”

Yoongi looks down and can’t see your face but he’s imagined it’s worried. “Y-Yeah?”

“Yeah. And Yoongi?”

He waits. You speak again, “Do you really want to be with me? For me to stay?”

“More than anything.”

He feels the tug of your cheeks on his chest; a wide smile.

“Then I’ll need to get my stuff.” And that makes him want to cry. After traumatic betrayal and years of loathing his punishment of isolation, he’s finally being let out of his cage. Free to be with someone that cares for him as much as he cares for you.

Your last thoughts remain on the fire and how it’s the only other entity to to swallow your talks, plans and confessions. Of his feathers like his arms as they fold in comfortably next to you, feeling like they’re meant to be there. Like you really were fated to be skin-to-skin with this man in his manor. Entwined by trust and love and an unprecedented future that would be everything as long as he’s in it. An irony of a useless girl and flightless wings.

Yoongi watches you fall under, wiping his thumb over your lips, trailing it down your chin and covering your naked body with his wing. Slumber finds him soon after, mind stuck on his self-epiphany that he had to lose his wings to gain you, and how incredibly lucky he is to have it that way.

a/n: ahAhaA, i’m sorry. please feel free to let me know what you think.

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