#i’m not who i’m meant to be. everything’s hazy and i’m losing it all. i cannot stand my stupid tiny self

[groupwest]

begging my brain to not be so empty i have to message so many people back but there’s nothing to say i wish we had evolved past spoken and written language by now. i wish i could just send love beams and movies to play in peoples heads and little birds to sit on my friends shoulders and play with their hair for me

[shizuturnspages]

UR NEWEST POST ABOUT BREAKING UP WITH DILUC??AHBAJWJSJSNSB YESS. Its pure perfection. I have nothing else to say. What happens after his darling wakes up tho?

I'm so happy you liked it <3

After his darling wakes up, this is what might happen:

The world comes back in hazy fragments: a dull ache throbbing in the back of your head, the sensation of rough, unyielding fabric against your wrists, the muffled sound of crackling embers nearby. You blink, slowly coming to, the dim light casting a warm glow that feels strangely… comforting. But then, as the fog clears, a new feeling settles in—a sharp jolt of realization, of panic. Your wrists are bound.

Eyes flying open, you see the familiar walls of what must be a room within Dawn Winery, the deep red decor and soft flicker of candlelight unmistakably Diluc’s style. It’s not your room, though; this is somewhere tucked away, a space meant to stay hidden, secluded from prying eyes. You strain against the ropes, the roughness biting into your skin as you test your limits, only to find them hopelessly secure.

A soft rustling pulls your attention. Across the room, a shadow stirs, and out of the darkness, Diluc steps forward, a subtle, intense smile lingering on his lips. There’s a warmth in his eyes, but it’s a smouldering warmth—possessive, unyielding, and somehow all the more terrifying for it.

“Ah, you’re awake,” he murmurs, his voice low and gentle. He crosses the room, his steady gaze never leaving yours. In his hand, he holds a small cloth—a fresh one this time, free from the faint scent that lingered the last time he put you under. “I was starting to think you’d sleep forever.”

You shift, straining against your restraints, but his eyes flick to your wrists, a frown creasing his brow. “Careful,” he says, his voice soft but firm. “Those ropes weren’t meant to hurt you, but if you struggle like that, you’ll only hurt yourself.”

The words should sound like a warning, but in his low, velvety tone, they’re almost soothing. He reaches out, fingertips brushing over your wrist as if to reassure you, his touch lingering just a bit too long.

“Diluc,” you whisper, voice hoarse from disuse and tension. “What… what are you doing? This isn’t—”

He cuts you off with a gentle finger pressed against your lips, his gaze darkening slightly as he tilts his head. “Shh… I’m only doing what’s necessary. You kept talking about leaving, and I… I can’t allow that. I won’t lose you.” His voice dips, the determination behind it like a steel blade wrapped in silk. “You belong here, with me. Don’t you understand that?”

He moves closer, sitting beside you on the edge of the bed, his hand reaching out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. “You’ve been restless,” he murmurs, his fingers brushing the side of your face. “But I can give you everything you need, right here. There’s no need for you to go anywhere else.”

A rush of fear runs through you, but there’s an undeniable tension in the air as he leans closer, his face mere inches from yours. The warmth radiating off him, the rough timbre of his voice—it sends a confusing, almost dizzying sensation down your spine. And somehow, despite everything, there’s a part of you that finds it difficult to look away.

“What are you… going to do with me?” you ask, trying to keep your voice steady, though it comes out barely a whisper. His gaze flickers over your face, studying you, as if weighing every word, every breath.

Diluc’s lips curl into a soft smile, but there’s nothing comforting in it. “I’m going to take care of you,” he replies, his voice so sure, so unwavering. “You won’t have to worry about anything. I’ll keep you safe, away from anyone else who might try to take you from me.”

He leans in, the warmth of his breath brushing over your cheek as he speaks. “I’d go to any length for you. Don’t you see that?” His voice is barely a whisper, yet it sends a shiver down your spine, his words laced with an intensity that’s as thrilling as it is frightening.

As he pulls back slightly, his hand slides to your shoulder, lingering there as his thumb brushes gentle circles over your skin. The gesture is almost tender, yet his grip is unyielding, a silent reminder that he’s in control.

“You’ve always been so stubborn,” he continues, his eyes never leaving yours. “But I think, deep down, you know this is where you belong. Here, with me.” His gaze drops to your lips, lingering there for a beat too long before he looks back into your eyes, his expression unreadable.

In that moment, you realize there’s no reasoning with him, no convincing him otherwise. He’s made up his mind, his devotion twisted into something unrecognizable, something possessive and consuming. And as much as you want to deny it, there’s a part of you that’s captivated by his intensity, by the way he looks at you as if you’re the only thing in his world.

With a soft sigh, he reaches out, tracing his fingers along your cheek, his touch deceptively gentle. “You’ve driven me to this, you know,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible, as if he’s confessing a dark, shameful secret. “You kept pushing me away, kept trying to leave. And I… I can’t let that happen.”

His hand drifts to your chin, tilting your face up so you’re forced to meet his gaze, his eyes burning with a fierce, unwavering determination. “I’ve given you everything,” he says softly, his tone carrying a hint of vulnerability. “And yet… it was never enough, was it?”

“Diluc, please,” you whisper, your voice trembling. “You don’t have to do this. I won’t—”

But he shakes his head, cutting you off with a sad, almost wistful smile. “I know you’re afraid,” he says, his fingers brushing over your skin in a tender, almost reverent touch. “But in time, you’ll see that this is for the best. You’ll come to understand… even if I have to keep you here forever.”

His thumb brushes over your lower lip, lingering there as his eyes darken, a hunger flickering in their depths that sends a shiver through you. He leans in, his face so close that you can feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his lips barely a whisper away from yours. “One day,” he murmurs, his voice a low, dangerous promise. “You’ll thank me for this. You’ll see that no one else could ever care for you the way I do.”

With that, he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a heartbeat longer than necessary. It’s a gesture that would have once been comforting, reassuring—but now, it only serves as a chilling reminder of the depth of his obsession, of the lengths he’s willing to go to keep you by his side.

“You’re mine,” he whispers, his voice a soft, possessive murmur. “And no one else will ever have you.”

And as he pulls back, his hand resting possessively on your shoulder, you realize with a sinking feeling that he means every word. In his twisted, unwavering devotion, he’s claimed you as his own, bound you to him in a way that goes beyond reason or sanity. And as you look into his eyes, you know that there’s no escape from the hold he has over you—a hold that’s as fierce and unbreakable as the man himself.

[tsunami-of-tears]

A Court of Shadows and Sunshine — Part Nine

Azriel x Aurora (OC)

Summary: Cute mating bond fluff and chafing. Most filler chapter. 

A/N: SHE’S BACK!! Sorry for the hiatus - I’ve been struggling since the holidays. It’s been hard to get back into it, I lost my uncle recently so I think there will be some self-insert to come.

Wordcount: 900 

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst/pining, sexual themes

Part Eight

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Azriel

It’s just past dawn when Azriel slips back into bed, the dim morning sun illuminates the room in a hazy glow. Aurora stirs, reaching out for him. 

“Where’d you go?” she asks sleepily.

Azriel sinks into the warmth and wraps his arms and wings around Aurora - in both protection and comfort. “I had some business to attend to, I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”

Aurora gently grabs Azriel’s bandaged hand. “Who did you beat up?” she questions, turning her head to look into his eyes. 

“No one that didn’t deserve it,” Azriel answers, kissing Aurora tenderly on her forehead.

Aurora sighs, relaxing further into Azriel’s chest. “Are we training with the others today?”

“I planned to give you some time off, I don’t want you to push yourself.”

“I know, but it gives me something to focus on. It helps to channel everything more healthily.” 

Azriel rests his chin against the top of Aurora’s head and sighs deeply. He completely understands where she’s coming from, but in the same breath - his protective instincts were firing and he didn’t want to put her at risk. 

“How about we train together, just the two of us? That way, you won’t lose any progress and I won’t worry so much.”

“Okay, deal,” Aurora agrees.

———— 

The next few days were like a dream. 

No, they were better than anything Azriel could have dreamed up. He had his mate, and she was everything and more than he’d ever hoped for. 

Their days were split between exercising and lounging around together - either chatting or simply enjoying each other’s presence. 

Azriel taught Aurora new fighting techniques and after, she taught him new yoga poses. 

With all the training, Azriel was working one muscle harder than the rest - his self-control. 

Gods…

The way she moved, how she looked up at him with those big beautiful eyes and that innocent little smile. 

Azriel had never yearned for someone like this. 

Still, there was one thought that played over and over in his mind. ‘It could have been worse.’

Azriel guessed what Aurora meant by that, but he wasn’t sure Prythian would still exist if his worst fears were confirmed. 

Regardless of that glowing thread and the tug in his chest, Azriel would wait for Aurora to make the first move. He’d rather go without those touches forever than push her too far, away from him.

———— 

Aurora 

Ever since the mating bond snapped into place, Azriel had barely left your side. And, he’d never pushed for more intimacy than you were ready for. You truly didn’t understand how you got so lucky, but you thanked the Cauldron every day.

Helion, your uncle, was staying in Velaris to assist in your magic training, alongside Rhys and Amren. 

It was strange to spend time with Helion knowing the truth of your heritage, you wondered how you never noticed the resemblance. It seemed so obvious now. It was bittersweet - you were grateful to have him in your life again but it made you wish you’d had more time with both of your parents.

Once you understood how your powers worked and what they could do beyond creating light - it was much easier to start to harness them. It wasn’t long until you were breaking small wards created by your High Lord and his Second. 

As well as spell-cleaving, you discovered your magic made a great shield - one that could protect you from even the harsh blast of a Siphon. With your budding confidence and your growing grasp of your powers - everyone agreed it was time to rejoin Valkyrie training. 

———— 

Despite the cold wind rushing around you, you felt warm and at peace. You always did with Azriel. In his arms, you soar above Velaris, making your way to the House of Wind for training. Your first training session with the group since the bond snapped.

You hadn’t seen much of Cassian or Nesta in that time, and you were worried they’d been avoiding you since you revealed your powers. 

That worry faded quickly, as you’re met with big smiles from everyone. 

Cassian steps forward, moving closer to you and Azriel. “Good to see you, Rory. Let’s see if you’ve kept Az in shape.” Cassian smirks at you and playfully slaps Azriel on the chest. Azriel straightens his back and his wings flare slightly, making him appear even taller. 

You glance between the males, and you scrunch your nose, slightly confused. “What do you mean?” You question. “We’ve been training every day.” 

“Training eh, is that what you call it?” Cassian chuckles. 

Wings flare, and glowing beams of red and blue flash in front of you. The movement stops as Azriel pins Cassian to the ground on his back. Cassian raises his hands, conceding defeat. “I’m sorry Az, chafing much?” he laughs.

Azriel glares as he offers Cassian his hand, helping him to his feet.

From beside you, Nesta rolls her eyes and crosses her arms across her chest. “Illyrian brutes,” she mutters.

Cassian turns to address the group, “Okay, let's warm up and then Rory, you can show us what you’ve learnt in your special training.” One glance at Azriel’s face has Cassian backtracking and raising his palms again, “Oh no, Az, I meant the training with Helion. I promise I won’t joke again.” 

The remark makes Nesta scoff, and the pair begin bickering. You smile softly and look up at your mate. Love pours down the bond in both directions. It took a while, but you’ve finally found your family. Both of you have.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*✧

Tags ♡ @mis-lil-red

Part Ten

[mystolli]

## . . . [ birthday bitch ] !!

𖦹︎ genre: smut

𖦹︎ w/c: 2.9k

𖦹︎ cw: afab! reader (no pronouns specified), aphrodisiacs, handjobs/fingering, praise/light degradation, creampie, overstim, squirting

𖦹︎ a/n: im sorry for being 3 days late to posting for my bby’s bday!! im so bad with deadlines guys … but anyways happy bday kaeya i am forever yours 🫶

[ 10:12 AM ]

your plan for kaeya’s birthday was simple enough. a party tonight, invitations sent to all the knights. jean, lisa, rosaria, even diluc. cake, balloons, presents…

but it was your job as his lover to add a little twist to pick things up.

as you explained to him your proposals for the night, kaeya kissed your cheek and wrapped his arm around your waist as you walked through the market. “it sounds lovely.”

“but I also have a little game for us to play,” you finished, smiling at him in a way he knew wasn’t meant to be as doting as your previous words.

“oh?”

from your pocket, you pulled out a small unassuming pill. “you enjoy competitions, don’t you?” your eyes sparkled. “this is an aphrodisiac.”

kaeya nodded, peering at the pill, a smirk on his lips. what did you have in store for him this time?

“so how about this:” you pulled him in close, whispering so anyone passing by couldn’t hear. “I give you this tonight, for the party. if you can’t make it through without needing to relieve yourself, no birthday sex for you. but if you do…” you tugged his collar a little bit in the way you knew he liked. “i’ll give you the best fuck of your life.”

he looked at you, surprise on his face, before he switched to his cocky grin. “it’s my birthday, isn’t it? shouldn’t I be the one making demands?” his features hardened into a combative grin. “but it’s a deal.”

[ 5:48 PM ]

everything was going according to plan. streamers were hung in the party area, glasses of wine and champagne circled the area, and dim lighting coating the room with a cozy feel. kaeya stood by the island table, flipping a coin absentmindedly as he waited for you to finish getting ready.

he heard the pattering of your feet and turned to greet you with a suave smile. “dear, the guests will be here any second…” he stopped mid sentence to marvel in your beauty, eyes growing wide as his confident facade slipped away in the sight of his love. you finished clasping the necklace he had given you for a special occasion around your neck, fixing your hair and straightening your clothes. “sorry I’m late, I was rushing—” you paused, watching his eyes take you in from top to bottom with something hazy in his gaze.

“you look ravishing,” he finally spoke, pulling you in once you were close enough. “angels pray to look like you.”

you blushed a bit, containing your composure by placing the pill in his palm. “maybe it’ll be some more incentive for you to lose tonight.”

he rolled his eyes, popping the pill back with a swig of wine. “you’re almost too much to bear, making me suffer so much on my birthday.”

“well, if you keep your dick in your pants for the next two hours, we’ll see who’s suffering tonight.”

he opened his mouth to retort before there was a knock at the door, to which you smiled at him coyly, walking away to greet the first guest of the night.

kaeya shook his head, an amused expression on his face as he sipped from his glass again. he listened to you greet the visitors, wondering if maybe this wasn’t the best idea for his own sake.

[ 6:56 PM ]

this was definitely not the best idea for him.

a challenge that seemed easy in retrospect had greatly undermined him. he had obviously underestimated the strength of the pill, the ache in his pants, and his darling doll that seemed to be purposefully riling him up at this point.

the party had been wonderful so far. it was easy for him to take shots with lisa and rosaria, engage in discussion with jean and some of the other knights, and even work up some conversation between him and diluc. the first half of the party had been a breeze, tricking him into thinking the rest would be too. but he noticed his palms began to sweat. his cheeks were heavily hued, his body almost overwhelmingly hot. suddenly the gossip wasn’t loud enough to distract him from his thoughts, the alcohol not strong enough to stop him from looking at you across the room. and it wasn’t long before he had to hide behind the counter, readjusting his pants to hide the tent he could now barely conceal. he slapped himself lightly a few times.

get your head in the game. only an hour left to go.

he could win this. he just needed to get his mind off of things. unfortunately, you had other plans.

you knew kaeya well enough to tell he was struggling. the others around couldn’t sense anything was off, but you knew he was cracking. he was right where you wanted him.

you walked over to the counter he was conveniently hiding his lower half behind. your breath ghosted over the shell of his ear, fingers dancing on his arms. “sure you don’t want to give in yet?”

he looked away, peering at the guests to make sure none of them were watching. “why would I? I’m doing great.”

“really?” you crept under his arm, pushing yourself in front of him to brush your ass against his crotch.

he groaned a bit, looking back at the guests. “shit baby, don’t do this to me right now.”

“what, scared you’re going to lose?”

“you’re acting all high and mighty now, but an hour from now things will be very different for you,” he watched as you sent an innocent smile to a passing knight. “you might even be begging on your hands and knees for me to touch you.”

he lightly moved you away from him to release the friction you were building on his groin, blocking all the thoughts trying to break the dam and let a flood in.

“well, not if you don’t make it to the next hour.” you shot back to his comment, grinning.

“my, someone’s feeling bratty today.” kaeya raised his eyebrows at you, flipping his coin in the air and catching it with a quick hand. “we’ll have to fix that, won’t we?” he strode away, taking his wine glass with him.

as unbearable as this was for kaeya (no matter how much he tried to hide it), it was nearly torture for you as well. even though you hadn’t taken an aphrodisiac, watching him fidget with his slender hands and cross his ankles had you thinking of things you weren’t meant to at a birthday party. this whole situation was getting you worked up too, to the point where you eyed the clock every few minutes, waiting with baited breath for the hand to hit eight.

[ 7:32 PM ]

kaeya was seriously worried he might not be able to make it through the next half hour.

he found it to be abhorrent that he couldn’t even make it a full two hours on this pill, but it was starting to etch itself into the recesses of his mind. he excused himself to the bathroom more than once, only to splash water on his face or take a breather. he always made it quick, knowing your watchful eyes would interpret his absence as something else.

finally, things were picking up when they cut the cake, and kaeya almost felt relief knowing it soon would be coming to an end. this truly was a different kind of suffering. every time he thought of what he would do once the guests were gone, all kinds of images and ideas started crawling through him and he had to use the bathroom again to refocus.

meanwhile, you had to remind yourself to keep your eyes off of kaeya. because the longer you stared at him, the more you noticed his red tinted skin, the way his eyes looked clouded as if he was thinking of something else, and soon you were unconsciously pressing your thighs together.

when the clock struck 7:49, kaeya made sure his efforts to look tired were notice. maybe it was rude that he was trying to trick his friends into leaving, but he couldn’t stand this anymore. he knew in the next fifteen minutes, his composure would shatter and he would lose the challenge.

the first pair of knights left at 7:52, wishing him a happy birthday as he raised his glass at them in a thank you. slowly, a few more trickled out, and a few after that. diluc handed him a large box, conservatively wrapped, before he bid the two of you good night. kaeya’s heartbeat began to pick up, noting the last few guests in sight.

[ 8:00 PM ]

at 8:00, only lisa, jean and one last knight of favonius remained.

kaeya’s foot tapped anxiously, his hands shaking a bit around his glass. he wasn’t going to make it.

but to his luck, lisa and jean kissed the two of you on the cheeks, thanking you for the lovely evening. together they dragged out the last knight (who was almost too drunk to stand) and let the door shut softly behind them.

you turned the lock, letting the silence wrap around the two of you.

when you turned, kaeya looked like a fucking animal in heat. his tie strewn, the top of his shirt unbuttoned, eyes filled with a piercing lust. almost immediately he was on you, pushing you up against the door and locking your lips with his messily.

you let out a muffled sound in surprise, but fell into the softness of his mouth. he kissed you until he couldn’t breath, letting his hands finally wander up your body the way they’d been itching to all night long.

when he finally broke away, you slipped out from his embrace, walking towards the direction of the bedroom. but he grabbed you by your waist, letting you topple onto his lap on the couch.

he grabbed your hips, guiding them up and down against his erection.

you gasped, grabbing the pillow beside his head. “kaeya, l—let’s at least get to the bed—”

“no—fuck—I can’t wait anymore,” he groaned. “I’m sorry darling, but I can’t hold out for a single minute longer. do you know what hell you just put me through?”

you laughed a little bit. “archons, you’re needy. I thought you could at least wait to open presents.”

“you owe me something first.” he replied, letting his hips fall into a comfortable rhythm with yours. but soon the stimulation wasn’t enough, and he pulled you off of him and let you sink beside his body, already sheened with light sweat.

“touch me,” he almost demanded.

“well, that’s no way to speak to your saving grace.” you huffed, even though your hands were fighting to not do what he was asking.

“I’m not going to beg, babe.” he grinned at you. “birthday boy’s wishes, right?”

you let your fingers roam his abdomen, slipping down to palm at his bulge. he let out a sigh, too desperate to tease you. as you continued, you slipped off your clothes until you were left with only your panties on, a spot of dampness on them already clear. you unbuckled kaeya’s belt and pulled down his dress pants before slipping your fingers in the waistband of his boxers, letting them fall.

kaeya cursed under his breath, so relieved he couldn’t even speak. you felt as though you’d messed with him enough tonight—and it was his birthday.

you wrapped your hand around his erect cock, moving up and down his shaft. you collected the beads of precum, smearing them around his length as he fucked himself into your fist. every once and a while you’d swipe the slit of his tip, letting those cascades of breathy moans and your name fall out of his mouth. his head was tilted back, his arm covering his forehead as his hips bucked. you knew him well enough to know he was close, so you quickened your pace. to your surprise, he grabbed your wrist, stopping your movements. “what are you—?”

“mmph—fuck, c’mere.” he pulled you closer next to him, slipping his fingers down your panties to rub at your neglected bud.

you gasped as he let your slick collect on his fingers. “kaeya, it’s your birthday, I was trying to focus on you.”

“then I guess you don’t know how much I adore this pretty pussy of yours,” he replied, slipping your undergarments off fully. “now keep stroking me, sweetheart.”

you obliged, letting out little breaths and moans as kaeya’s slender fingers prodded their way into your hole. he leaned in closer, kissing along your jaw as his sinfully skilled hands made your legs shake a little. your hand continued to pump his cock just the way he liked, the heat of lust between the two of you palpable in your stares. “hah—baby, you’re doing so good for me,” he whispered.

“I thought you—mmph—told me I was gonna be on my hands and knees, begging for you to touch me,” you slurred.

“did I? well, things have changed. I forgot what a pretty thing you are to play with.” his body seized as you gave him a particularly pressured touch to his slit.

“ah, kaeya—” your hips bucked as he circled your clit with his thumb. “please, kaeya, please let me cum—!”

“and you said I was the desperate one, huh? didn’t take too much to have you begging like a slut.” he grinned, feeling his orgasm approaching.

his teasing ignited a different kind of desire in you. your hand stopped on his shaft and he sputtered in protest as you pulled yourself out from his grip. slowly, you lined yourself up, his tip nestling itself at your entrance before you sank down. the two of you let out twin moans as you wrapped you arms around his neck, leaning into him for support. he gripped the plushness of your thighs as you steadied yourself. “ah, so you’re an unpredictable slut now.” he noticed the way you tightened around him at his words, smirking.

you began to bounce on his cock with a squeal, kaeya’s grip strengthening on you. it didn’t take long for you to cum, since you’d been oh so close previously. you gushed around him as he toyed with your clit to help you ride out your high. the sight of your cum leaving a ring around the base of his dick made kaeya’s coil snap as he came too.

“look m-me in the eyes, angel,” he groaned, snapping you out of the drunkenness from your high. he smiled as you pulled in closer, your chests touching as you felt the heat of his cum pool through you.

“that’s my sweet thing,” he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear and held your face in his palm. “so good to me on my birthday.”

he kissed your fingers and gave you a look equally as lustful as before. “but you gave me that pill, didn’t you? and I’m still not satisfied. so you think you can give me another?”

you nodded and he grinned, replacing his hands on your ass. you began to bounce again, crying out from the stimulation of his dick hitting all the right places. this angle was simply ecstasy, the way your clit kissed his pelvis and his cock brushed your cervix. it wasn’t long before the knot in your stomach twisted until it couldn’t anymore, and you came again. but kaeya didn’t stop.

he held your hips and guided you up and down with his own strength as you nearly sobbed from how overstimulated you were. he slapped your ass lightly a few times, purring about how good you were, cumming on his cock and still taking more.

“kaeya, kaeya—!” your cried, unable to even think of any other words. “m’ gonna cum again—”

he groaned deeply, watching his length disappear into you thrust after thrust.

“slow down—!” you squealed. “feels weird—m’ gonna, ah!” was all you managed to form before your eyes fluttered, completely dumbed down by kaeya’s dick.

“that’s right baby, make a mess for me, let it out.” he cooed in your ear.

the heat of your body skated through you as you squirted, crying out while your juices splattered onto his abdomen and both of your thighs.

his movements stuttered as he stared at your aftermath with wide eyes. the sight of you squirting on him, tears streaming down your cheeks was enough to have him cumming again, his voice strained and body almost erratic.

the two of you heaved breaths for a moment before you leaned into his chest, head foggy as he wiped the tears from your cheeks. though the scene was erotic, the warmth you both felt was anything but. it was tight strings of love, wrapping their way around each other until you were locked in close, tenderness dripping down the thread like it was doused in syrup.

“you never cease to amaze me, my darling.” he whispered, stroking your hair as you nuzzled into him and placed a kiss on his lips.

“happy birthday kaeya.”

[multiverseprincess]

cupid's season | “The idea of love” | blurb #2 | j.h.s x reader (AU)

multi's note: Back again, with another piece. I am writing a couple of chapters and laying down the timeline. We're cooking with gas, we'll be on the road soon!

Loosely based on Emma by Jane Austen. I do not own any of the characters from both works.

tw: amateur writing? unmatched energy (flangst), allusions to smut, fwb situations, mentions of frats, and social events/situations.

Reader has a nickname. Reader is a cis-genered fem.

------x------

The afterglow seemed like a place, with liminal quality. Especially with Jake. Or just with Jake. He had a way of making everything around her drenched in hues of gold and pink. It wasn’t good for her, she knew. Nothing about this arrangement felt sustainable.

Drawing shapes on his hand, as she held it against her belly, she tried to even her breathing. It felt like they were minutes away from losing everything they found with each other, each time they fell into the sheets.

A barely there line, a glass door that would collapse on itself, if it knew just how vivid and agonizing her feelings were. It was eating her alive, gnawing at her nerves, bubbling under her skin. The need to tell him how in love she was, how much he meant to her.

He got on her nerves more than anyone else. Scratch that, he was the only one who could annoy her the way he did. Whether it was because she was head over heels for him, or his typical Jake Seresin charm she didn’t know.

But the thought of anyone knowing him the way she did, made her want to climb tall something and scream. Maybe fight too. She’d probably fight first and then scream. As she was trying to recount all the ways she knew how to take someone down- Jake spoke up,

“You love the idea of love, don’t you?”

She caught the end of his sentence, her heart thumping, she let out a gentle hmm- turning to face him.

“Love, the idea of it- you love it, don’t you?”, he asked. turning around to face her, their joined hands lying between them.

As she was about to answer him, he spoke up again, “It scares me, how much you believe in it. Like one day when you get over it, I’m scared you’ll realize just how fucked up and brutal it’s out there”

She blinked two times, to figure out where this was coming from. She had trouble processing the word “love” coming from him- a. in this moment and b. being repeated many times.

But then as she processed what he said, her heart clenched. She could feel her throat tightening, as it did around him sometimes- when he annoyed her too much, when he carried her to either of their beds, when he made her laugh too hard, or when like he had just now- made her doubt herself.

“Jake, where’s this coming from?”, she asked, not wanting to start arguing just yet. She felt too vulnerable, too raw.

“Dais, I think..I think that you get too caught up, in what your idea of love is”

Her hand that lay limp against his clenched loosely, she got ready to pull away as he landed his final blow-

“You’re not gonna find a love like that, that’s all I’m tryna say”

Jake got up then, walking towards the loo, and as he did- Daisy pulled the now tightly clenched fist to her chest, pulling the blanket with it to shield herself from the aura in the room.

She could feel her lashes get watery as she heard Jake in the washroom. She soon got up and hastily dressed herself, feeling hazy and out of control. A mixture of emotions flooded through her- anger, sadness, and hopelessness- at how lovelorn she was, a fucking fool for believing in anything romantic related to Jake.

That was not what they were. They were good friends, neighbors, frenemies, and maybe bedmates here and then.

Just a platonic source of comfort that blurred the lines, due to lack of boundaries.

Daisy grabbed her phone and opened Jake’s bedroom door. She ensured that, when she stepped out she’d never let him back in.

------x------

[daddyy333]

Lonely | Neteyam x Omaticaya!reader

if you’d like you can reblog my original work, but please don’t post it without credit. if you take inspiration from my ideas please tag me, I’d like to see how someone else would write it

word count: 1.4k

warnings: reader is shot, reader dies, Neteyam kills quaritch, Neteyam don’t feel so good anymore

summary: Neteyams childhood bestfriend who he’s been in love with for years follows him out of the forest and to the ocean, and now she’s dead because of him and he barely got to tell her how he truly felt about her.

anything in bold like this in the middle of a sentence means it’s either Na’vi or meant to be in Na’vi but I don’t trust the translation websites so I just use the few words I know and make do with it💀

He doesn’t know what just happened. He was here for all of it. Watched it all happen. But nothing makes sense. What the hell just happened?

5 minutes ago, you were alive and well. In a lot of danger, but you were still alive. “Neteyam, go!” You said and pushed him off the ship. You grabbed the gun and fired it for a few seconds before jumping yourself, but you were too late.

You screamed as a sharp pain erupted in your upper back and then your chest, making water fill your mouth and your throat a little as you fell in the water. You tried to keep your head afloat but you couldn’t and you were choking. Not to mention, the pain was excruciating.

“Ne- ahh! Nete! Net- Neteyam! N-” you were trying to shout his name but everything was working against you. He heard you though, and looked over and realized you were hurt. “Y/n? Hey, hey no no no! Oh, Great Mother, no!” He said and pulled you up onto his shoulder a little, swimming to Tsireya’s ilu.

“She’s hurt! Y/n is hurt!” He cried, helping you on the ilu. You coughed your lungs out, wheezing hard as you felt blood ooze out of your chest. You’d been shot.

They got you to a rock nearby, laying you down gently. Neteyam was sobbing, he was so scared of losing you. He sat next you, cupping your cheek as you groaned and whimpered, struggling to breathe.

“No, Great Mother! No! Not now, please! Please do not take her from me, this is not fair!” He cried and you cried out of pain. You grabbed his hand and said “Nete…I’m dying,”

“No, no you are not dying! No! You- y-you- please, please! I cant- y/n you don’t understand. Y-You just have to hold on, we can get help” he said and you whimpered. You wheezed and said “Neteyam…oel ngati kameie”

“No…no, no no no! Don’t say that, you are not dying!” He said and sniffled. Jake and Neytiri found them, and they began to cry as well. You were like another daughter to them, and they wanted you to be Neteyams mate when it came time for it.

“Great Mother, why?! Oh, sweet child,” Neytiri said, dropping to her knees as she held your hand, crying softly. Tuk was sobbing into Jake’s chest. Lo’ak, Kiri, and Tsireya weren’t doing well either.

“S-Say it b- ba-back…please” you said, struggling to breathe. Your vision was hazy, and you knew you didn’t have much time. He cupped your cheek, wiping your tears. “O-Oel ngat-ti kameie,” he sobbed, caressing your cheek.

“I can’t- y/n, how am I supposed to live without you?!” He said and you whimpered. You groaned and said “kiss me, ‘T-Teyam” He let out a sob, kissing you softly, so you could still breathe as much as your body would let you.

You kissed back only a moment before the pain got worse. “Uhh! Neteyam- Nete, i-it hurts!” You cried. Lo’ak was keeping pressure on the wound, but it wasn’t doing much. The three of you were all covered in blood.

You began to feel scared, realizing you were really dying. You weren’t ready. “C-Can you hold me?” You asked quietly, trying so hard to stay alive. He cried as he nodded, looking at Lo’ak. He moved his and you yelled in pain, nuzzling into Neteyam’s chest.

He sniffled, petting your hair. “I’m not- I-I’m not ready. I don’t w-wanna- I-I don’t w-wanna die…ple-ease…” you said frantically, whimpering as it got harder to breathe. He sobbed as he said “don’t be scared. D-Don’t…don’t be scared. The Great Mother wi-will welcome you with o-open arms”

“I-I don’t w-wanna- wan-nna leave you” you whispered, eyes fluttering. He shook his head, this was it. You were really dying now. “I-I love you,” you confessed, holding his hand weakly. He pressed your foreheads together as he whispered “I lo-love you too”

You hyperventilated slightly, trying desperately to breathe but your body was giving up on you. “R-Relax, relax- I’m h-here” he said, caressing your hand. You let out a weak cry, whimpering through the pain. “Neteyam…” you whispered before you stopped breathing, eyes dilating before you relaxed in his arms.

Neteyam sobbed into your neck, holding your body tight to his chest. “Son,” Jake said and Neteyam whimpered, unable to control his breathing. He’d never cried this hard before, he’d never felt such pain in his life.

“P-Please, wake up! Wake up! Y/n! Come on- come back, please! I’m r-right here, baby, come back- c-come back to me!” He said and shook your body, there was no way you were just gone like that.

What the hell just happened? How could you just be gone for good? Why you? It should’ve been him. It would’ve been less painful.

He slowly lowered your body onto the rock, standing up with a numb look on his face. “Where are you going, my child?” Neytiri asked, wiping his tears away. He growled and said “to kill the demons that took away my mate”

He walked away, mounting his ikran and Neytiri let out a sob, she was so scared. She was worried he would die too, but she knew there was no stopping him. She’d do the same if someone looked at Jake in the wrong way.

“Ma Jake, come. You three stay with her, stay safe please” she said through a shaky voice. Jake got on his skimwing, and Neytiri mounted her ikran and there were both following after Neteyam.

The three of them took down every one in the RDA that was on the ship, doing what they could to avenge your death. Neytiri found Quaritch, grabbing Neteyams arm. She nodded her head towards Quaritch and saw the anger in her son's eyes increase.

He drew his bow, piercing Quaritchs stomach without a second thought. He ran over to him, kicking him to the ground. Quaritch groaned, losing his gun in the process. Neteyam hissed at him, grabbing his knife and pressing it to his neck.

“You h-hurt my people. You hurt m-my planet. Y-You hurt Eywa. I can handle that. But k-killing my mate, that was too far. For that, y-you die!” He said, slitting his throat. He stabbed him in the chest, screaming as he realized you were gone for good.

Jake and Neytiri ran to him, Jake pulling him into his arms as he cried. He sobbed as he said “I-I don’t want to live w-without her, dad” “I know, son, I know. You’re gonna be okay, we all will. Just gotta take this one day at a time” he said and Neteyam whimpered.

Neytiri hugged her boys, tears rolling down her face as she struggled to watch her son feel so much pain. Neytiri looked up at her mate with so much fear in her eyes. She felt as if she had lost a child of her own, watching Neteyam go through the pain was just torture.

He kissed her head, whispering to her, “we will get through this. No pain is permanent, my love” They eventually made their way back to the kids and where your body was, Neteyam immediately returning to his spot and pulling you into his arms.

You were cold now, your eyes still open. He brushed your hair out of your face, whimpering. “He is dead. The demon that killed you is dead now. You may rest in peace, beautiful” Neteyam whispered, closing your eyes.

Kiri placed a hand on her big brother's shoulder. He sniffled, standing up and holding you bridal style. He called for his ilu, adjusting you so that you were in a better position to hold.

He rode back silently, tears rolling down his face. He went slow, not wanting this to end because once he got back to the island and announced your death it would make it more real. He noticed your ilu following and whimpered.

A few friends you had made during your time there ran to him, crying at the sight of your bloody and lifeless body in his arms. He sniffled, more tears welling up as your head rested limply against his chest.

Surrounded by the entire clan, he had never felt so lonely in his life. He was nothing without you, and he lost you before he could tell you that.

Taglist: @laylasbunbunny

As of now l'm writing for

Eddie Munson

Joseph Quinn

Jamie Bower

Steve Harrington

Robin Buckley

Maya Hawke

Lo’ak

Neteyam

So just comment the taglist you want to be added to and l'll add you :)

[higekki]

@allgather

he wonders if tenten has ever seen him without facepaint. it’s irrelevant, so very insignificant in the face of what he’s just survived, but the thought does pass through kankuro’s mind. everything is so hazy, a likely side-effect to sakura’s antidote still working it’s way through his system, and for that reason, his sister is hesitant to let anyone in to see him. but tenten, he insists on seeing, he insists she in’t just anyone, and temari has to relent ( it’s easier to convince her now that they have gaara back. the sheer relief of saving both your little brothers from the brink is one hell of a drug ). she sits with him now, and he tries to stay conscious, but kankuro comes and goes. her words from one of those times he’d held on long enough to have a conversation echo in his head each time he slips under. i’m here if you need anything, okay? and it seems she wasn’t over-exaggerating; tenten is always there when eyes flicker awake again. like she hasn’t moved an inch from beside him.   he’s exposed. his face, his chest; he’s completely vulnerable before her, slipping in and out of wakefulness in front of her eyes. more than that, she’d found him after master sasori had left him to die - she’d seen him, smudged facepaint, ripped robes, paled skin, half dead. it should all make him nervous ( when has he ever let a shinobi from another nation see him like this? ) but tenten can be trusted, this he knows deep inside. not only an ally, not only the saviour of the kazekage, she’s dear to him. those letters and kisses exchanged over the past few years carry weight in kankuro’s heart and, if he’s reading tenten’s expression correctly ( worry, care, love? ), in hers as well.  this time when he comes around, kankuro feels well enough to speak. it hurts to move too much, but he’ll squeeze tenten’s hand in his to get her attention. “you saved me. temari told me it was your team who found me.” what do you think of me now? now that you know i can be so weak? now that you’ve watched me fight the poison from my veins and almost lose? now that you can see me whole and naked and unpainted?  he doesn’t ask. how could he. instead, knakuro strains to kiss tenten’s hand. “thank you.” 

before this mission, she can only remember two other times that the sight of an injury had rendered her unable to act and neither had happened in the field where inaction meant death. it was a point of pride, truthfully - the levelheadedness that came so naturally to her was a skill that many young shinobi had to learn through time and repeated exposure. how many times had she boasted of her ability to stay calm in the face of injuries that brought other kunoichi to their knees? and how many times had she chided her hormone-stricken peers for their overblown reactions when the injured party was some cute but reckless boy?

this is different, isn't it? because the way she feels about him is different and kankuro is DIFFERENT and the weight that brings her to her knees isn't some superficial panic, it's the realization that he could die and she wouldn't know. at any point he could die and she would be the LAST to know. every kiss and every letter and all the moments of laughter in between - in the grand scheme of things it didn't mean anything. to sunagakure, it doesn't mean anything. because he's the kazekage's brother and she's just--

distantly, she hears lee say her name. through blurred vision she watches gai turn kankuro over and her breath catches in her throat. there's hardly any blood. the other two times there had been so much blood. her hands move on their own, like someone else is controlling them, reaching out to push back his hood. his robes are torn and his hair is soaked in sweat. his face paint is nothing more than a couple purple smears across the bridge of his nose and down his cheeks, but he's breathing. he's breathing.

this is different, isn't it? or maybe the feeling of hopelessness - of uselessness - isn't so different at all. but the poison is unlike anything anyone has every seen and maybe if she had just been GOOD ENOUGH to train under lady tsunade as sakura had she would have been able to spare him hours of agony and pain. instead, all she can do is sit and wait and exchange terse, nervous glances with temari and try to piece together the broken parts of the puppets he loves so much.

what is she good for if she can't be around to watch his back and she isn't able to do anything more than stitch up superficial wounds? what is she good for if she can't even put crow back together after he's shown her a dozen times? what is she good for if all she can do in the face of earth shattering loss is cry like some pathetic little girl? what is she good for? what is the point of her? what is--

neji tells her it's time to go. to help naruto, sakura, and kakashi find gaara. to find him and bring him back, because that is her duty as an ally the the land of wind and a ninja of the hidden leaf village and there is no one else in the word who matters more to kankuro than his brother. she can bring gaara back - that what she is good for.

this is different, isn't it? because other girls don't have to put up the fight that she did just to be allowed in the hospital room. they don't have to wait for their loved one to wake up and request their presence for the notion of their presence to even be entertained. she can hear them speaking through the door. his voice is hoarse and temari sounds so tired. when the door is opened tenten is on her feet in seconds, brown eyes falling expectantly upon the oldest sand sibling's face. a half-hearted wave is all the approval she needs to run in. the door hasn't even closed by the time she reaches his bedside, hands cradling his face as her forehead rests again his and every fearful thought falls from her lips.

i'm so sorry i wasn't here sooner. i'm so sorry i didn't find you sooner. i'm so happy you're okay. i'm so glad you're okay. i'm here if you need anything, okay? i love you so much--

she loves him so much.

even like this, stripped of all the paint and eyeliner and heavy robes that he hides behind. he told her once it's because he hates how he looks, but looking at him now she can't understand why. the feeling she understands, but to her he's so inexplicably perfect and this time she'll make sure he knows. this time, she'll make sure there's no doubt in his mind regarding how she feels. she won't leave until she can do so knowing that, if he ever does die, it's knowing that he means the world to her.

when he wakes, her fingers stretch so he can more easily press his lips against them. she laughs, even as tears well up in her eyes, so caught of guard by the notion of thanks that for a moment she is once again rendered unable to act. but this time it's shorter. this time she regains herself in seconds. this time, her fingertips dance over the rise of his cheekbone, chasing the path that his face paint would have taken across his skin. "of course i found you. i'll always find you. wanna know why?"

because they're different.

"because i love you, kankuro."

[thecandywrites]

Monster March 2024- Day 20 - Part 5

Benefit Of The Doubt

As always, thanks to @borealwrites for their amazing Monster March 2024 Prompt List!

before she left and came to the Royal Coop to see Queen Kat inside playing with the chicks Queen Kai’s chickens had laid and had just hatched only days before Kat took over. 

“Oh, I see you’re recovered and have hopefully gotten a chance to catch up with what has happened since you’ve been recuperating.” Queen Kat tried to greet Hazi as sweetly as she could muster. 

“I missed out on quite a bit. I am still adjusting Isthantari.” Hazi offered as she slowly approached the Queen since Queen Kat had invited her to join her and sit beside her on the bench in the coop. 

“Could you please, just use my name? Isthantari is so…impersonal.” Kat requested hopefully. 

“Your Majesty…” Hazi tried to counter. 

“Please, enough Hazi. Please? I’m…I’m sorry. I’m really, really, truly and honestly sorry for the way I came in and treated you. I didn’t know what I was walking into when I was coming in here a week ago. And…I just…I need you Hazi. I need you to help me. I need your help with…everything. Especially since you alone seem to be the only one to have everything all figured out. And while the Hive ran smoothly while you rested and recovered, because you had amazing protocols in place. Everyone else has been at a loss, especially me. I treated you like an enemy, when I should have treated you the way you tried to treat me- like a friend and an ally. And I’m so sorry I hastily came to the absolute wrong conclusions about you at first. I’ve since been learning just how wrong I was.” Kat turned and pleaded with Hazi with tears starting to fill her eyes since Queens actually had the ability to cry. 

“I know that I’m not what you or anyone else expected. And I know I’m barely old enough to leave an incubation cell. And because of an emergency situation everything was rushed and I can’t undo what I’ve already done. But…but I don’t want to fail. I don’t want to lose…everything. I don’t…I don’t want to lose myself in all of this. I know a Queen’s only purpose is to control Her Hive. But this Hive is…it’s its own…thing.” Kat said as she curled in on herself and just continued to pet the little chicks in her cupped lower hands with her upper hands as once again, Hazi was struck by just how small she still was. Like any other child of any other race, forced to wear a crown placed onto their heads by others- years before they were meant to. As she started to see- the truth of the situation. 

“Let’s talk.” Hazi invited before she simply reached out to touch Queen Kat’s forearm as the two immediately linked up to create their own private bubble, a miniature private network, just the two of them. 

“Ok, talk to me. This is a safe space. I’m not going to judge you as long as you don’t judge me or other members of the hive. I will be as honest with you as you are with me. But this is strictly for communications to build trust between us, not an investigation that will be met with consequences ok? Deal?” Hazi asked. 

“Yes! Deal, done deal, please. This is what I’ve been waiting all week for is just this with just you!” Kat readily and immediately agreed. 

“Ok. I just learned that you practically hatched only seconds before you took over the Hive. That must have been quite the feat for you. You got the message that the largest Hive in the Quadrant, much less, the galaxy, was about to fall and you were called from the homeworld years before you were ever supposed to. And then you get here, and you find that it’s not nearly the “emergency” it was talked up to be. And the very one who urged you to come, had vanished without any answers once you got here. And then it took a few days for him to be found and for you to finally get some answers to your questions that you had to live with and no doubt wrestle with while he was gone.” Hazi invited, taking Jaxx’s advice. Since he was the most removed and objective about this from his unique perspective on this whole thing as she sensed Kat’s surprising desperation and earnest genuine nature. 

“Yes! Thank you! That’s exactly it! I have had nothing but questions that the Hive Mind, nor anyone else can even hope to answer. And when I did get some answers, they were…anticlimactic and so unsatisfying and if anything- only sparked new questions that I don’t think anyone, let alone, any Hive Mind, let alone a Super Hive Mind could have answered.” Kat complained as Hazi gave her a sympathetic look. 

“Ok, so what other questions do you have that you still need answers to?” Hazi invited. 

“Why are private Isthantari’s a thing? Like…why would anyone who isn’t Jika, want to isth with us?” Kat asked as Hazi noticed Kat’s disgust at the very notion of isthing. 

“From what I’ve gathered, because I have no experience with it myself yet, but when I communed with the former unmated consorts right before coming here, it’s about relationship dynamics. To Queens, Consorts live to serve you. But, usually, most other Queens, only view other Consorts as walking sperm banks and barely tolerate their presence. And because unmated Consorts have higher brain function and personalities unique to them. They are attracted to the idea of having a life partner who is just as intelligent as they are, and just as nurturing, kind, loving, caring, compassionate, empathetic and sympathetic that they are but have all of those qualities mirrored back to them. And they like the idea of monogamy with such an individual to mirror such things back at them. Which for the inhabitants of earth- is a really big deal and just about every living thing on that planet with a higher brain- lives for and pursues their whole lives and we’ve been here long enough and integrated ourselves into the culture enough, that’s it’s rubbed off on the local population. But now that you’re here, you have the power to stop that if you don’t like that.” Hazi offered honestly. 

“No, I don’t want to stop it! I…I find myself wanting the same exact thing. In fact, that’s why I chose the consort I did when I first exited the incubation cell on our ship. But then…Kit…he changed once he did isth with me. And the Kit I had grown to love and admire in stasis in the cell, was just…gone…once I isthed with him. And…I’m terrified the same thing is going to happen to all of my other Consorts. And…I like them too much as they are and I like my current relationships with them as they are right now- to do that to them. But…But Kit was supposed to be so different and so special and he was my favorite out of all of them. And then, one moment we were finally becoming one and then, the next moment, there was me and only me and he was just…gone. I can’t explain it outside of that.” Kat explained with more tears of worry and regret and sorrow and loss. 

“Ah. I see. Yeah, that’s…that’s probably why Queens only isth with their second favorites. But keep their true favorites “unmated” to a degree but keep them as personal guards and personal caretakers otherwise. And both enjoy the closeness but deny themselves from truly finishing the process, just to keep their Consorts intact mentally.” Hazi revealed. 

“Why didn’t anyone tell me that sooner?! You’re the only one who knew that then! None of the other Queens said a word about any of that! If I had known that, I would have picked anyone else other than Kit.” Kat complained. 

“I don’t know. You should have been told about that. Usually that’s told by the queen to her daughters once they are hatched. But because you didn’t have that. Reverend Mother must not have included that detail with your instructions because in the grand scheme of things, it’s a non necessary detail as far as a Queen taking over a Hive. But, I do have a way to bring back another Kit, if you miss him that badly.” Hazi began. 

“How?” Kat asked, both relieved and in awe that Hazi would know of a solution. 

“Message the Reverend Mother, tell her anything you want to tell her to justify your request, but simply request to have Kit’s father re-impregnate her with another set of Kit- Super Consorts. Have all of them sent here. Granted, you will have to wait for them to fully incubate and hatch. So you’ll need to learn to be patient. But hopefully, they will be worth the wait, and here’s why.” Hazi began as Kat turned to face her completely and put the chicks down to hold her hands with her own. 

“Each sperm and each egg make it’s own unique individual, but you can have someone who is the same genetically and hopefully similar enough in personality to be like a new version of Kit. Jaxx knows your disappointment with Kit’s change. And he is working on- what I can gather is an inhibitor to keep that mental change from happening once you fully isth. However, that means, that should any of your Royal Consorts displease you from here on out. You can not dispose of him the one way you have to dispose of a Consort once chosen. That once he displeases you or does anything that would endanger the hive, there is no way to get rid of him while still preserving his genome. Would you be willing to do that? And then, be willing to wait for your new batch of Kits?” Jazi asked. 

“I would.” Kat readily agreed with an adamant shake of her head yes.  

“We will do our best. I’ll even use the Royal Nursery to do it too.” Hazi urged. 

“Ok. well, just in case that doesn’t work and none of the new Kits are what you want and are not the replica of the Kit you love. The only other way to bring him back is to reanimate him, and then put him back into incubation to regrow what he lost. It’s been done before. But that process is just as lengthy and honestly, the chances of him making a full recovery to be fully what he once was- are about 50/50. So not horrible odds, but not great either. Inhabitants of Earth also have to deal with this. When people down there go into a coma, they don’t always wake up the same person. It would be the same thing. But it takes the same amount of time either way. There is no quick and easy fix.” Hazi specified.

“Can we try both? I feel like we should try both, just in case.” Kat urged. 

“Thank you.” Kat thanked her as she hugged her tightly. 

“You’re welcome.” Hazi offered as she hugged Kat, marveling at the still so small and so young Queen in her arms and wondered if this was what her mentor had done or felt with Kai a generation before. 

“I feel like you’re this…big sister or like an aunt or…even a second mother to me.” Kat confessed. 

“Aww, well if that’s what you need me to be. I can definitely do that. But please don’t forget Kat, that you are still the Queen. You may be young, but that only means that you’re that much more adaptable and able to learn that much better. Yes there will be growing pains but we will get there by going through this, day after day. I know you feel like you got off to a bad start. But you didn’t. It’s not to late to save this. Sure your ascension was a bit rushed and a few things can get lost in translation. But we are both new to this. Let’s give ourselves and each other patience and grace with this. Ok? Just take it one day at a time.” Hazi gently urged as she hugged Queen Kat and gently pet her fur to soothe her, the same way she had done with the other nursery drones when they were hatching and learning the Nest and The Comb and would get overwhelmed. 

“Could you please stop thinking that everything is a trap? And that anyone is out to kill you or your sisters? That’s not the case at all. Like, I am a little jealous that they seem to have all their shit together and are already not just with the program but are the program. And I know that I’m the Queen and I’m supposed to have all of my shit together already, but I don’t. Honestly, I feel like I’m just barely holding onto the edges and that at any moment, everything is going to tear apart. I just…It’s so loud here. The Hive Mind is just…it’s so big and loud. It makes me want to shrink back and isolate myself just so I can hear myself think. But I can’t hush the Hive Mind because then everything stops. And we can’t afford to have everything stop. That’s why I like my private networks, I have one that’s just for me. That’s my own personal quiet place. Where the only thoughts I hear, are my own and only my own and no one else's.” Queen Kat admitted as she curled in on Hazi and leaned into Hazi’s sweet, soothing strokes of her head and body and down her back and arms and even down her little wings. 

“Yeah. I get that. Well, now that you are a Super Queen. I’ll have your Super Consorts help me to restructure the Hive Mind so that it’s more orderly instead of everything all at once, because that’s what Kai liked, she liked the cacophony of sound because to her- the great volume meant great success. Even though you are finding how untrue that is. Usually Queens are grateful for the Consorts not having much mentally so that she can focus more singularly on the Hive and Hive Mind without distractions. But for you, you get to be different. This is your Hive now. And your Hive Mind. You get to have it however you want it to be. If you want it quieter and more organized, we can insulate you from all the nonessential noise and put back up all the barriers that Kai tore down because she liked the transparency. But you don’t need it. This is your Hive. No one would dare deceive it or try anything. You can trust the Hive to stay Your Hive, no need to micromanage it the way Kai liked to.” Hazi offered as she cupped Queen Kat’s cheek the same way any mother would to a smaller child. 

“Why do you think we all have our own private communication networks? Because we couldn’t stand the cacophony either.” Hazi whispered in Kat’s ear which got Kat to snicker a laugh. 

“Besides. I think it’s a wonderful thing that you actually like your Consorts just the way they are, and don’t want them to lose their own distinct voices and personalities. Don’t be so hard on yourself. Fuck everyone else’s expectations. What do you want for yourself? What kind of Queen do you want to be? Before you were given this call to come to this Hive, what did you wish you could have in a Hive? Because that’s what you should strive for and make for yourself. If you want camaraderie from your Consorts, both mated and unmated, you should have that. And if you want a sisterhood like I do, I’ll try my best to help with that too. But while I can give you a measure of that, the fact remains- is that you are still the Queen. And you can only stop being the Queen once you have a daughter of your own who is ready and willing and able to take your place. And while you have the final decision to make, doesn’t mean that you should only have one option to choose. If you want an over abundance of options and ways to change and improve things as you grow and as you see what works and what doesn’t work, keep your options open. And realize that you can change your mind too, and that’s ok and I encourage you to do reevaluate your decisions from time to time as you grow and change too. With little to no explanation either. While perfection is always the goal- no one is perfect. Not even you. Even as Super as you are. Sorry kid.” Hazi gently consoled her as Queen Kat laughed at the gentle jab got recomposed and wiped the precious few tears from her eyes. 

“Are you sure?” Queen Kat still felt the need to question. 

“Like it’s an ocean of fluff and spikes and you’re drowning?” Hazi supplied. 

“Yup. Positive. Let me guess, you haven’t been sleeping well either all week? Miss your cozy cell?” Hazi suggested.

“Yes! Like my Super Consorts already spun me a bed like Nest and it’s big enough for all of us. But I feel…” Queen Kat admitted. 

“Yes! Is that normal?” Kat asked hopefully. 

“Oh yeah. Even drones will align themselves as if they’re back in the comb cells even in an open space. Like, you can just look at them, and it’s as if they never left those honeycombed cells.” Hazi insisted before Hazi combed through her memories to share with Queen Kat, like sharing old photographs as Queen Kat and her shared a couple of hours just sitting in the coop, physically petting chickens while mentally, Hazi was sharing pictures. 

“I’m sorry if I stole your royal jelly from Klip.” Hazi murmured after a while. 

“Oh ppfffbbb, don’t be. Klip’s my ‘let’s take a minute and explore all our options’ and I still don’t have the patience for that. Kit was my ‘get it done, got it done’ guy.” Kat waived off as she looked at the memories like they were pictures and appreciated that Hazi took the time to capture them in the first place. 

“Slow pokes.” Hazi teased which got Queen Kat to erupt into a bright laugh. 

“And you like immediate results.” Hazi gathered.

“Well…I thought I did. But the “results” I’ve gotten this week has proved that there is such a thing as ‘too hasty’ in dealing with everyone outside of the Hive.” Queen Kat sighed with a wince and a grimace.  

“I know right? Why can’t everyone just be quick and efficient?” Queen Kat practically stuck her tongue out playfully which got them both to laugh. 

“But you and this was definitely worth waiting for.” Kat added, a bit more seriously as she appreciated the pictures of Hazi with her sisters. 

“Sorry to keep you waiting as long as I did.” Hazi offered. 

“Well, your sisters look to you to lead the way. I take it you were farther along in incubation than they all were? Is that why you’re a natural leader?” She asked. 

“It is. I was actually in the beginning of the programming phase. And Gadi saved not only everyone through that entire phase but even my sisters who passed it. And even got the order to make eggs for themselves. And they were always arguing with how things should go and how things should be done. And then, when Kai went to “punish” her mated consorts, they grew to like it. To the point that the Consorts preferred those sisters to her. Kai of course, could not tolerate it, and out of jealousy, killed two of the five that had been saved and attempted to finish as Nursery Drones, which, didn’t take the change really. They were too interested in bossing the other drones around rather than being nurturing to the actual larvae and pupae and drones once they did hatch. Worst Middle Managers ever. And it was a relief when they were killed. It was hidden under the chatter of the hive. That’s the real reason why Kai wanted to hear everything.” Hazi recounted as Kat listened attentively and frowned at that. 

“But then, when the remaining three, ended up naturally developing the eggs themselves. Then they grew pregnant. And Kai really wouldn’t tolerate them then. Then all of us were rounded up and inspected to see if any of us had any eggs or even the beginning follicles for eggs. And if they were found, they were surgically removed. Half of my sisters died in surgery just getting the very follicles removed, so that, not under any circumstances would there ever be a fertilized egg that didn’t belong to the Queen. That’s why there’s barely a dozen of us left. There had been over four dozen when we were first saved and the generation before us, died from exhaustion saving even us. Which, I knew mere minutes before you came that you were coming and I had to shut off the Queen’s feed from the Hive Nest, just so she wouldn’t kill me for trying to save her children.” Hazi revealed. 

“Maybe by then, the thought of isthing won’t be as…disgusting as it seems to be right now.” Queen Kat offered. 

“Is that why you left all the Princesses who were past that stage, alone? Because you didn’t want the past repeating itself?” Kat realized.

“Yes. I couldn’t endanger the vast majority of the younger sisters, just to save a few of the older ones. That, and you don’t need any challenge to your authority over the Hive. You are a Super Queen. You should never have to deal with a usurper the way normal Queens do. Besides, at least with saving the ones I did, at the stages I did. I still ensured that for now, Queen Kai’s body is the only one laying fertile eggs. And because I removed the phallus’. You officially have about a year, before you would need to be up to breeding size and up to laying your own eggs. Which is perfectly possible and doable, granted, you may have to start eating really fatty and protien rich foods to get up to that size. And then once you fully replace her in every single sense. Then you will still be the only female to have fertile eggs. You as the Queen, the way it’s meant to be. And you won’t have to worry about any of them secretly trying to take over the hive from within either, because none of them were ever programmed to. Even when some of us are more than our programming.” Hazi offered. 

“I’m sure it won’t. Because you are so small, it probably hurt like hell.” Hazi mused. 

“It did! And on one hand, it felt natural in a way. But in another, it didn’t, because he was so, so big. I felt like he wore my canal and my entire abdomen like a sleeve.” Kat murmured with a sour expression. 

“Ouch. I’ve never isthed, so I have no idea either way. Kai respected me too much to ever order any consort that didn’t please her perfectly to order it for me. She was insistent that I had much better things to do with my time, she thought isthing was a waste of time and only ever did it with her mated consorts once to capture their genetalia and then never again, she thought of isthing as a punishment and a waste of time and energy for her.” Hazi admitted. 

“Well, from where I sit, you’re not missing much. Although, for my Consorts, it’s like, they have an itch that I can’t scratch and to get it scratched feels good? I guess? But then they just get itchier and itchier and need more and more scratching and yuck!” Kat tried to illustrate before she made a disgusted face and mock gagged and shivered.  

“And for you, it was ‘I came, I saw, I’ve moved on, I don’t need or want that itch to ever get scratched any time soon and I’m gonna avoid anything and everything that could possibly itch me’?” Hazi guessed. 

“Yes! That’s exactly it.” Queen Kat offered. 

“Ok. Well, obviously, if my sisters are consenting and are obviously can isth, but can’t do the full isth- and tari. Because they lack both the hardware and software for it, if you catch my drift.” Hazi delicately explained. 

“Yes I do.” Kat nodded. 

“Well maybe as you age, and grow and mature you might think differently. But for now, if that’s the way you feel, you can keep your Royal Consorts at arm’s length or hell, arms and wing’s lengths. And maybe by the time Reverend Mother sends you that batch of Kits. And we get your Kit into incubation and once they all finish incubating and hatch- you might feel differently.” Hazi suggested. 

“Doubt it, but maybe.” Kat shrugged. 

“Well, if the thought if Isthing is really that disgusting to you. You could always use my freely consenting sisters as funnels.” Hazi offered. 

“Funnels?” Kat repeated in confusion. 

“Ok, so I don’t know if you know Nursery Drone anatomy, but our abdomens, where we have a canal to isth. Instead of having eggs or follicles, which feels like bumps- according to the Consorts who Isthed with my late sisters. The insides are smooth. And that chamber looks like a funnel to collect misbehaving Consort seed. And when and if that Consort re-earns respect and trust- to re-enter her good graces, but is already too tired from having to isth with a Nursery Drone- the Nursery Drone puts her abdomen up to yours and simply drains the contents into you. It’s like refilling a drinking glass. And it’s as impersonal as that act of service normally is anyway.” Hazi explained before she brought up the scans that had been done on her and her sisters before and after the surgeries. 

“Oh I see! It’s shaped like a funnel! Oh, that would be so much better. That way, their seed really doesn’t go to waste, we still preserve their genetics, but without the messiness of isthing.” Kat realized as she beamed a happy smile at the news and revelations before she hopped up and kissed Hazi on the cheek. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! This is the best news yet! And this way, my consorts get to stay my platonic friends, I get to gain more friends with you and your sisters. And everyone’s happy and yet the Hive doesn’t collapse. And all that needs to happen is they can funnel into me as needed or wanted. Which, I don’t or won’t need any of it- for at least a year or hopefully two, maybe three if I can get away with it, or more! Who knows right?! They can dispose of it as they see fit for now. Because I want to give Klip’s seed every chance I can. And I don’t want any other seed but his- in me for the time being at least.” Kat insisted. 

“Yes Ma’am.” Hazi chuckled as she removed the scans before they left the private network before Kat got to her feet and grabbed Hazi’s head and kissed her all over her head. 

“Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You’re the best! I gotta go call Mom!” She cheered happily as she gave Hazi her own Super Codes to do as she wanted and needed before she flew out the Royal Coop to go and contact their Reverend Mother to request a whole batch of Kits.

Hazi could only laugh and shake her head as she pet the other chicks and chickens before she got up and dusted herself off and then got the chicken’s a treat block and the chicks a batch of wax worm grubs to snack on. 

“Name it.” He invited before she pulled him into their private network to have this conversation. 

“So? How’d it go?” Jaxx asked as he came into the coop with her.

“It went really well. You were right. She needed the benefit of the doubt. She misjudged me and I misjudged her at first. It’s not nearly as dire as I thought it was going to be. Poor thing is just young and inexperienced and has the whole world trying to weigh on her little shoulders. She just needs a few braces and to build up some strength to bear it all. But I’m gonna need your help with a few things.” She offered. 

“First- inhibitors for the Super Consorts so that- if they do fully isth with her, they remain mentally intact and have no atrophy. Also, I’m gonna need for you to help them grow a second pair of phalluses and gonads.” She instructed. 

“A pair for Kat and a pair for…whoever?” Jaxx guessed. 

“Yes. Second- her Super Consort- Kit, the only one she isthed with- where is he?” She asked. 

“Still on their transport ship, in her cell that she was incubated in- in stasis.” He answered. 

“He will need to be moved to the Royal Comb. I’m gonna have to work with the Incubator Protocols to try to restore him to who and what he was right before isthing with her. If I fail, the only safety net I have- is if Reverend Mother- will send Kat a whole new batch of Kits that we can fully incubate here, hopefully one or any or at best- all of them are replicas of what he was. But I fully know my chances and odds of that happening.” Hazi explained. 

“Ok, what else?” He asked. 

“Continue with your work to cement her pheromones and the pheromones of her daughters so that no one can usurp her or her legacy or dynasty. Unless a Reverend Mother comes here herself to oust her and replace her- which we are no where close to needing or wanting that- otherwise- I want her to give her every chance to succeed that I can. She was thrust as unwitting into this as we were. But she is literally only a week old and we met when she was only minutes old. I don’t know if you remember- but I remember how bad I was at everything at  her age. You were right, we need to give her and ourselves and everyone else patience and grace. She is doing better than anyone else could have- given these circumstances. I know if I was in her wings, I would have probably thought and reacted the way she did, if not worse. I will need Jaxon and Sable’s help to help Kat get up to size.” She decided. 

“Done.” Jaxx answered with a nod. 

“And then- I’m gonna need introductions to every single private- non-jika Isthantari. All I want is to meet them and get to know them on some kind of friendly-personal level. And then once Kat proves that she doesn’t mean me, my sisters or the other private Isthantari’s any harm- then we can work on being friends and maybe something like sisters some day. But what I really don’t want to happen is for all of us to get used to this as our new normal and then for her to wake up one day- all grown up and want to change things back- at the peril of everyone else.” She murmured. 

“I understand.” He nodded. 

“Next, I want to make sure that my sisters are ready and willing to be funnels. Because Kat is so young, and psychologically immature, she’s averse to isthing. She’s still too small and fragile for it. I’m surprised Kit didn’t accidentally kill her- isthing with her. When I brought up funneling, Kat was delighted and overjoyed that it was possible for her to be pregnant without isthing. That’s how averse she is. And I know these Royal Consorts are ready and eager to ‘lay all their pipe’ as soon as possible.” She muttered under her breath as Jaxx snort a laugh. 

“Yeah, you can say that again.” Jaxx nodded. 

“What am I not seeing?” Hazi asked him, knowing that he would be mindful to remind her of things- her already overwhelmed brain was probably forgetting. 

“Did she tell you what kind of personality Klip had?” He asked. 

“Only if they don’t all fall in lust with me too.” Hazi muttered. 

“Yeah, she told me he was her- ‘get it done, got it done’ guy.” Hazi answered.

“Well, that tracks. But you should also know that only reason we’re all alive is because of Klip. Because he’s the opposite of that. I think if we resurrect Kit- he may push her to act before thinking. I think Klip needs to have at least a few of his own copies sent with a whole batch of Kits. Just to even things out and Kat doesn’t regress in her progress.” Jaxx suggested. 

“Why do you hate him?” Jaxx asked. 

“I don’t…I don’t hate him. I just don’t trust him.” Hazi answered. 

“Has he done anything to betray your trust?” He asked. 

“Not…yes and no. He’s made his interest in me too apparent and it’s just plain unnatural. I was never put into the part of programming where isthing would have been a pleasurable experience. And I still remember how Gabi warned all of us that isthing was always dangerous to us, and dangerous to the Consorts. I know for you- my sisters death seems like a lifetime ago. But…It was practically burned into my memory. I don’t wish for anything like that to ever repeat.” She shuddered at the memory as Jaxx practically got a repeat of it himself through the private network. 

“Well, speaking of repeats. Do you still want Little Stubborn to be cued up? Just in case?” He asked. 

“Yes. I don’t care what we have to do to hide her in plain sight. But we need safety nets, just in case. And if Kat ever reverses this, and ends up becoming our worst nightmares, I’d rather not have to call back to the home world to have any, let alone our Reverend Mother bring in another Super Queen or whatever. Because none of us would survive that. We barely survived this.” She offered after she made sure that there was no way for this conversation to ever be recorded in this private network. 

“Consider it done.” Jaxx nodded. 

“Thanks.” She grinned as she mentally just hugged his arm for a moment before she let go and then stepped out of the private network to go and get ready to receive Kit’s body in the Royal Comb because she got messaged that it would be arriving shortly.

[staycharming]

Little Memories, Lost

Last month I had my work bag stolen from my car, which contained a laptop and a few other personal effects. Most of the stuff was replaceable or had little value, so it didn’t feel like a colossal loss until I remembered a journal I kept was in there too. It was a journal I started when I found out my wife was pregnant with our first child in which I documented significant milestones in the pregnancy, the birth of our child, our scare in the NICU, what it meant to be a father, how inspiring my wife’s strength is, and all of our baby’s firsts up to his eight months before I lost the journal. I called it Little Memories. The name signifies documenting the journey and growth of our baby. Still, most of all, it was to help me remember all the small details of the past year as my memory is notoriously unreliable. I wanted something to bring me back to any given day over the last year to recall any small achievement our baby accomplished or how awful I felt the next morning after sleepless nights. Bringing it with me daily to work felt like keeping a pocket-sized, sentimental part of my baby boy everywhere I went. They were short, mundane journal entries to anyone else, but meaningful core intimate reflections that I hoped to relive years later at the flip of a page. They were memories that I hoped to pass down to my child, so he could one day have the ability to vividly recount an experience in which he was the main character but would have no existing recollection. It’s not lost on me how silly it even sounds to say it, but losing my notebook felt akin to losing part of myself. These memories feel like a hazy dream that I am clinging to, desperately trying to remember, but all the details keep changing the more I try to recall them. I honestly wish I could start over and rewrite them, but these once hyperspecific details are illegible scribbles etched in the walls of my brain. Attempting to go back to rewrite them would merely be like writing fiction. Ultimately, I hoped these journal entries would forever serve as a testament to my pride in my son and an unending love letter to my wife, but now they don’t belong to anyone, and they’re starting to fade from my memory. I’ve become emotionally enveloped in this material loss, and any closure at this point seems impossible. Suddenly everything in my life feels extra fragile. Like I can lose everything I love in an instant. The silver lining of this experience is that it has given me some new perspective on attempting to live more in the moment and a reminder to love the people and things I can hold right now. Still, I’ve always been a sucker for nostalgia, and like these precious memories, this journal now only exists in the past. I don’t exactly know why I’m writing this or who it’s for, but I’ve found myself incapacitated by a state of arrested development, yet the world keeps going.

[talesofmetalandmagic]

Azir (in whump) and Renekton

When he’s Xerath’s captive, Azir would often plea (sorry, I meant… imperiously request) to his old retainer to help him.

Now if he was someone with more experience in manipulation, he’d plant discrete seeds to get him by his side: but Azir is impatient, blustery and… well, the opposite of a manipulator. So the best he can do is try different ways of coaxing, ditching each of them when they don’t succeed at first try. Which was also his policy as a ruler.

“I’m Emperor Omah Azir and I DEMAND you to free me! If you defy me, you betray Shurima!”

“Let me go, Renekton, and I’ll reward you aplenty. The riches of Shurima will be yours.”

“You’re letting this… this Baccai command you? I expected better from you. Who is he to tell you what to do?”

When wrath fails, he attempts sweetness. Azir has a bit of romanticism in himself, compensated in his youth by Xerath’s more cynical outlook, and is so desperate to try anything to make it stop.

“Renekton, my dearest friend… in the name of all the love we shared, find it in your heart to help me. I’m hurting, Renekton. I’ll forgive everything if you help me escape this place. We can… go back to the way it was. I’ll treat you as you deserve… Renekton, please. Remember how you held me, when my siblings were done for? I know you’re still that man, I know… LET ME GO, I HAVEN’T FINISHED! NO!”

Yet Xerath is aware that if there’s anything that can coax Renekton’s mad wrath is love, the most powerful force on all the lands. When Azir began his pleas at him, Renekton would beat him furiously and punish him with glee, but over time… he seems to lose his gusto, as if something was choking it.

So one day, when Azir readjusts his eyes to the sun after another night with his head encased in tight black leather, he realizes someone’s missing.

“Wondering where he is? I sent him off to find your retainers and bring me their heads. He wasn’t as free a spirit as I. But fret not, Azir… I’ll punish you personally from this day forward. Who am I to deny an… *snicker* an emperor what he deserves.”

(what Xerath doesn’t know is that his retainers now include Nasus, and the combination of strategic minds will be enough to subdue the Butcher of the Sands and keep him in a place where he can’t hurt himself or others as they prepare for rehabilitation… he still won’t tell them where Azir went, though, but it’s not his fault – his memory is hazy)

[eeveearoace-creative]

... the brainrot took over.

enjoy :3

(ps it's only the first image but shhhhhh)

cw: blood, pain, injury, implied possession

Marcy crumpled the ground, deathly still. The cursed helmet rolled off her head, revealing a face Sasha had missed so badly it hurt to think about – but here she was, so close, and Sasha refused to waste even a single moment, even as her back cried with agony, scalding skin protesting with every movement. None of that mattered right now.

“Marcy!” Sasha cried, scrambling over to girl she loved, the girl who still wasn’t moving, and carefully pulled her into her lap.

Marcy’s skin was paler than Sasha had ever seen it, and her cheeks had sunken so much that her cheekbones had become visible, green blood glistening in the cut Sasha left there. Dark bags had made themselves known under Marcy’s eyes, so heavy it made Sasha wonder when she had last slept – then, Mother Olm’s warning that that thing, The Core, didn’t sleep made Sasha’s heart skip a beat as she realized that if The Core hadn’t slept, Marcy might not have, either.

And now Marcy wouldn’t wake up.

“Marcy,” Sasha repeated, brushing a lock of oily, sweat-laden hair behind Marcy’s ear. Shuddering at the inhuman cold of Marcy’s skin, Sasha searched Marcy’s neck for a pulse.

Nothing.

“Marcy…?” Sasha whispered, panic rising in her chest. “Hey, hey, you gotta wake up now, alright?” Forcing a smile she knew wouldn’t trick anybody, Sasha rested the back of Marcy’s head in the palm of her hand.

No, not now, not after how far we’ve come. Not when I finally have her again. I can’t lose her again, I can’t, I can’t-

“C’mon, Mars, c’mon, wake up,” Sasha pleaded. “Th-this isn’t funny anymore, c’mon, you gotta – you, you gotta-” She hiccuped. “C’mon, Mars, I promise I won’t ask for anything ever again, just please, please wake up, please…”

Sasha sobbed. Marcy was still just so cold in her arms, and she wouldn’t wake up, why wouldn’t she wake up-

“Wha-?”

Sasha gasped.

“Huh?” Marcy slurred, eyes hazy and unfocused, but they were that beautiful brown they were always meant to be, that beautiful brown that Sasha loved with all her heart, not the sickly orange that came from somebody else using her body as a puppet. Marcy’s eyes were tired and dull and she wasn’t okay, not yet anyway, but they were hers, and that meant everything. Sasha swore she would never take that for granted ever again.

“Thank God you’re okay!” Sasha sobbed, throwing her arms around the love of her life her best friend. She was okay.

She’s okay.

Everything ached.

Sasha was holding Marcy and sobbing, so softly and so gently, like she was the most precious thing in the universe.

Where…?

“Wha-?” Marcy slurred. “Huh?”

Sasha gasped, eyes widening with… was that relief?

“Thank God you’re okay!” Sasha sobbed, throwing her arms around Marcy.

Agony shot up Marcy’s spine as she went completely rigid. White specks danced across vision as everything began blurring together, shapes melting into messy shapes and colors. Her head pounded like someone had hit her skull with a sledgehammer, but there was a fuzzy numbness spreading through her fingers and legs, and-

“Woah, hey, stay with me Marce,” a panicked voice, Sasha’s voice, directed. “Just stay with me, okay? Help is coming soon, alright?”

Help? Why-

Everything flashed with orange.

Marcy screamed, thrashing in Sasha’s arms. Oh. Oh. Everything came flooding back – everything Marcy did, how she hurt, betrayed her friends, everything Andrias – The Core – did to her, being alone, all alone, in that dark void, how she almost gave in to a fantasy just because she never wanted to be alone, was so scared to be alone-

“Hey, hey! I have you, okay? I have you, Mars. It’s okay, you’re okay.”

Marcy whimpered, pulling away from Sasha’s touch – she didn’t deserve it.

“Marcy?” Sasha asked, voice tight with concern. “Hey, hey, it’s me, it’s Sasha. I’m not going to do anything to hurt you, okay?” Sasha brushed Marcy’s hair. “I’ve got you. You’re safe now, I promise.”

Marcy shook her head. That wasn’t the problem.

“Marcy, it’s gone.” Sasha’s eyes glittered with concern. She reached towards Marcy. “It’s not-”

Marcy flinched away.

“Mar?” Sasha whispered.

“I…” Marcy’s voice wavered. “I’m – I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m so, so sorry-”

“Hey, hey, shh, shh,” Sasha soothed. “I – I forgave you, okay? I’m just-” Sasha reached for Marcy’s hand. Marcy let her. “I just need you to be okay.”

“But, I-”

“No buts.” Sasha hugged Marcy again, careful not to aggravate her back this time.

Marcy sniffled. She didn’t deserve this, but if Sasha wanted it… hesitantly, Marcy hugged Sasha back.

Her hand touched something wet.

There was blood on Marcy’s hand. Blood oozed from a gash in Sasha’s back.

“S… Sashy…?” Marcy trembled. “What…?”

“I – I’m okay,” Sasha dismissed. “It’s… I’ll deal with it later, okay? I’m okay.”

“What? No, you’re not okay!” Marcy cried. “Who did this to you?”

“Marcy-”

“Whoever did this-”

“Marcy-”

“Where are they?” Marcy tried to stand up, but her legs refused to listen to her, and she was sent crashing to the ground. Sasha caught her just in time, guiding her safely downward.

“Marcy.”

Everything stopped. No. No, she wouldn’t.

“Sashy?” Marcy whimpered. “Who did this to you?”

“Marcy…” Sasha sighed. “That wasn’t you. You would never do that, I know that.”

“But, I-” Marcy hiccuped. “Sasha, I – I hurt you!” Marcy legs failed again her as she tried to stand up and stumble away.

“No, you didn’t,” Sasha insisted. “Mars, I – I’m okay.” She grimaced. “Help is coming, alright?”

“How can you stand to be around me?” Marcy cowered away. “After everything I did? After I hurt you?”

“That wasn’t you,” Sasha repeated. “And, Marcy, I’d go through all that a million times over if it meant getting you back.” She was crying again. Sasha didn’t cry. “Marcy, I thought I lost you.”

It’s what I deserved.

“Just stay with me, okay? Help is almost here, I promise.”

“Okay,” Marcy whispered.

Giving in, Marcy sank into Sasha’s side.

idk angsty sasharcy bc the brainrot hit me

[aujanerene]

why do you hate me for loving you ?

i gave you everything i had

all the way down to my last

You’d have to lose what i’ve had

To understand why i love you the way i do

Them demons all in your head,

Making you say things later you wish you could take back instead

Guess you’ve lost your mind again

Yeah, love’s dead.

So now the old me, i shed

Dont know what went wrong, but im not so sure we were ever meant to go right

It’s me who is breaking my own heart, you said ?

I guess you’re right

What was wrong with me ?

I gave you all that love and you couldn’t even put up a fight

I loved you and you said hurtful things

Trying to dim my light

You say i’m weird and call me crazy

When im sitting in my room at night,

Crying alone, teardrops on my phone

I be left wondering if it was that good dick that left me hazy

Your love for me, it was lazy

You don’t love me like you say do

Love is a verb, it’s in the things you do

Why do you hate me for loving you?

[drhu0806]

10 – “It’s alright, I’m here now.”

Fandom: Baldur’s Gate 3 (fanfiction) Characters: Shadowheart, Tav/custom player character Rating: G Warnings: spoilers for Act 3, depictions of grief

In the quiet of the night, under the beautiful, muted glow of the full moon, Kainé hears someone softly weeping.

Silently she follows the sound, weaving through stone paths until she happens upon a small enclave, sandwiched between buildings. Within, she sees Shadowheart with her back turned, kneeling on the ground.

A quiet sob confirms the source, and she slowly and deliberately steps closer, making sure her presence is known. The cleric’s breath catches when she hears her footsteps, and she tries to quickly wipe away her tears before she turns around.

“Who goes there—oh. It’s just you.”

It still feels strange to see her friend without her harder, standoffish exterior, sporting the symbols of the moon goddess she used to disparage so often. Though the business within the House of Grief is well behind them, Shadowheart still looks rather lost under the moonlight.

“I..thought I heard something, and just came to take a look,” Kainé explains. “Are you alright?”

“I’m fine, I just—ugh, sorry.” She wipes away more tears, annoyed at the way it makes her makeup run. It just makes it worse, leaving behind more black streaks across her face. With a small, frustrated huff she throws her hands to her side as she gives up. “Don’t know why I even bother… I’m fine, everything’s fine.”

The tiefling, knowing better, simply smiles, and takes a seat next to her. She doesn’t speak, yet Shadowheart finds something comforting in her presence as they sit in silence.

And though Kainé doesn’t ask, she still speaks. “I suppose… I was wrong about it taking one day to pull myself together.” She laughs, and it comes out more like a bark, hard and sharp. “You’d think I’d know how to handle it better, having served the Lady of Loss for so long.”

“You just lost your parents and your entire way of life, Shadowheart,” Kainé argues softly. “No one in their right mind would expect you to be at a hundred percent so soon after.”

“Perhaps, except I should know better, shouldn’t I? After all of Shar’s teachings, after all those years of devotion, I thought that I…” Angry tears well up within her eyes, and this time she doesn’t bother wiping them away. “It should have meant something, shouldn’t it? All those years I spent in there, it should have been worth at least something, right?

“But no, no, I’m still here, still here with all this loss and pain and—” her breath hitches as the tears spill over, “—and for some reason I still feel so alone.”

A choked sob erupts, and she hides her face in her hands. Kainé wraps an arm around her and brings her in an embrace, resting her chin on her head as they gently rock back and forth. Shadowheart doesn’t resist, tucking her face into her shoulder.

“Ssh, it’s okay. It’s alright, I’m here now.”

They stay like that for a while, long enough that Shadowheart loses track of time. When she pulls away—though not far—the moon still hangs above them, accompanied by a sea of stars painted across the clear night sky.

“Kainé, may I ask… When you lost your grandmother, what did you do? I mean, how did you deal with… all this? How long does this go?”

“I’m not sure my situation is the same as yours…”

“Not exactly, but you still lost someone important to you, didn’t you?”

Staring up at the stars, she ponders her answer, or really her lack thereof. “If you’re asking when you might truly forget, or when the pain will finally go away, I can’t really tell you, because it hasn’t for me. It’s been years, but I still miss her every day.”

“And your parents?”

She closes her eyes, and hazy faces from long ago still surface. Warm eyes, kind smiles, though tinted through a thin haze of sadness. “I still miss them too.”

When Shadowheart appears discontent with her answers, Kainé pulls her close again. They rest side by side, watching the clouds above roll by over the bright moon above.

“I don’t think we’ll ever stop hurting over them to be honest,” she muses. “They loved us, and I don’t think we’ll ever stop missing that, or wanting it. And you know what? Sometimes maybe there isn’t a point, Shadowheart. That’s what I think at least. Sometimes shit just happens, and there’s nothing to be gained. No meaning, no such thing as it being ‘worth it’. All you can do is pick up what’s left and let everything find its place in your life.”

In the ground, she draws a circle. “But you know what? I remembered some things, back when my parents passed, and when I lost Grandma.” She draws another circle surrounding the first. “When my father died, and then my mother, I was young and it wasn’t like it was easy. But I still had a family, still had a life I could choose to live. So… I could still carry on.

“But when Grandma was killed I… I guess I didn’t really have anyone else at the time.” Another circle the same size as the first is etched in the ground, next to the two concentric ones. “So it was harder for me then, so much more so. It took me a very long time before I felt like myself again.”

“...What changed?”

“I got kidnapped by mindflayers and found you lot,” she replies with a wry smile, tapping the first set of circles. “You know, I used to think grief was something that would shrink with time. That the pain would fade away into nothing, and then that would be it, then I would be ‘fine.’ But now I know,” she draws a fourth circle around the third, larger than any of the others, “that it’s not the pain that gets smaller. It’ll never truly go away. It’s the life I build that has to grow larger around it.”

In another life, Shadowheart thinks, Kainé would have been a wonderful cleric for a much kinder god. What a strange thing to consider after all this time, for grief and loss to not hold utmost importance like she’d always been taught, nor to turn a blind eye and run away from them, as so many others have tried.

“I don’t know what must be like for you, to lose your family like that so quickly after getting them back,” Kainé says. “But all I’m saying is… If you want to find some time to be in a cry corner, you can always call me so you don’t have to be alone. I mean, I could use some time in the cry corner myself, you know.”

They both laugh, and Shadowheart takes comfort in knowing that she’ll never have to feel lonely for very long.

[cain-gunn]

“A freighthopper?” He echoed, only conjuring loose ideas about what it meant. But Mack continued, filling in the shapes and the colors for him. “So, that’s how you actually ended up in all the districts.” It wasn’t for work, or any legal reason at all. It sounded dangerous in the sort of way that was the antithesis to who Cain had been at twelve. Sure, he’d run right toward death, but he’d done it without really knowing what that meant. He’d done it with discipline and pride. “What’s your favorite district to end up in?” He asked. Cain had been to each district on Victory Tour after Victory Tour, but they were so structured, sterilized, a part of him knew he hadn’t really seen them at all.

“It’s funny. You skipped town after your first reaping, and I volunteered.” The observation wafted around him, hazy as the smoke that clouded the room. “I feel like I was kinda running away from stuff too, though, y’know? My grandfather was a victor, and then my dad was always planning on doing it too, until he busted his knee. When I was little, he was always talking about how great he should’ve been. I guess I was freaked out about missing my chance and never getting to be anything that mattered.” She’d only technically asked for one true thing about him, but she’d gotten two. “So, I get it— the running away, the wanting to feel like you did something.” It was different, but maybe there was more common ground between them than she'd admit.

Her comment about the way he talked made Cain bark a laugh. “Oh yeah, people tell me all the time that I’m a great enunciator. It’s one of my better qualities,” he teased, but he was glad she told him. It made her that much more real, a solid thing to cling to here where everything else was practically spectral.

He watched as she failed dismally to blow smoke rings in the air. He was working for some quip, but the thought came too slowly, and it didn’t quite catch before she was hovering over him. Her lips brushed against his, and Cain reached up to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His palm came to rest, cupping her cheek like he could hold her where she lingered, like he might lose her if he didn’t. He breathed in deeply, letting the smoke pass between them. And when there was no more smoke, Cain continued inhaling. He was a drowning man in need of more— more air, more touch, more her. He craned his neck up from the cushion he was laying on, letting his lips press against her without restraint. He half expected to move right through her, but she was real— soft and with the taste of smoke still on her lips and against his tongue. (It was hard to tell exactly whose form started or ended where.)

Mack was trying not to take this for granted. These were, after all, probably some of her last moments. Certainly the last ones of freedom, for even if she emerged from the arena, it would be in a collar, chained to the title of victor and obligated to the Capitol's whims for the rest of her life. And as drugged as they were, she was oscillating between entirely here, unable to conjure an outside thought, and out of her body entirely, staring down from up above. She watched the confession fall from his mouth, though, and she was firmly in her form. He brushed her fingers, and she floated up to the ceiling, confused, torn.

But he had given her what she wanted: something honest, something dangerous but true. And what did he want in return? Not another opinion, certainly. Something personal? Something about her?

"I'm a freighthopper," she explained, finding it an easy entry-point. "It means I illegally ride the trains that move all of the district-made goods to the Capitol -- and send the rations back to the districts." It was always better to ride the rails in, when produce was fresher and the goods were of higher quality. "You know what's funny? I started when I was twelve. Went to my first Reaping and-- And I got so scared that I-- Well, I guess I was scared I'd die without really living first." She hiccuped a laugh, but there was something about it that, even through the haze, felt somber. "I only went back to Six for the Reapings." Ironic, then, that she'd be picked to represent the district.

She fell silent, trying to determine if she'd paid her due. For good measure, she added: "And I'm not deaf, but it's hard to hear sometimes. Just when someone's, like, mumbling or whispering, or there's a lot of background noise. That's why I keep looking at your lips--" Wasn't it? "You enunciate a lot. It's nice. Fancy." Career.

Cain blew rings up into the air, and Mack watched, admiring them, the way the smoke rolled and the circles widened until they disappeared. "I don't think so," but she tried anyway, taking the hose back, trying to match the way his mouth had moved, but failing miserably. She sputtered a laugh, defeated. "Didn't realize they taught that in the Academy," Mack teased, rolling onto her side, propping herself up, flourishing the hose with pride. "I can shotgun, though. Here--" She drew in from the nozzle, stretching her lungs, leaning forward over him, mouths ghosting. "Inhale," she murmured, careful not to expel too much too soon. Against the brush, Mack released a slow exhale, letting the smoke seep from her lips to his. From her lungs to his. Something shared, passing forms.

[jungkxook]

—make it right. (m)

⟶ pairing: jungkook x reader 

⟶ genre: punk!jungkook / band au / exes-to-lovers au / angst / smut

⟶ words: 11,528

⟶ rating: 18+ 

⟶ summary: you’re wholeheartedly, madly in love with jungkook and yet you shouldn’t be because it’s been almost a year since you broke up with him. worst part of it all is that you know he’s still in love with you too

⟶ warnings: jungkook has a tongue piercing, oral sex because of said tongue piercing (fem!recieving), more tattooed and long haired jungkook to feed my fantasies, angsty pining clingy sex, also just general soft sex, crying sex lol, riding, creampie, slight praise kink themes, unprotected sex

⟶ disclaimer: here’s my one year blog anniversary present inspired by the first ever fic i posted on here! yes this is technically a sequel to melomaniac but not really. sort of like an alternate universe to the alternate universe but you don’t really have to read one or the other to understand the other. so, i hope you enjoy!

⟶ this is part of the melodrama tour series!

You swear you’re over Jungkook.

In fact, you would even go so far as to say you hate him ━ but you know that’s not true. It’s just that it’s much easier to believe that if you tell yourself you hate him enough times, then maybe you’ll find a way to fix your broken heart, and the pain in his absence won’t hurt so bad. 

As it turns out, it hardly works.

Seven months since he had left you to travel the world with his band, basking in promised eternal glory and fame and money, and yet even miles and oceans away from where you stand, he’s all you can think about. There’s a myriad of reasons as to why trying to forget him was an useless endeavour. The hardships of trying to forget a cherished life-long friendship you had grown accustomed to was one of them, and those lingering happy moments you had shared with him as lovers however fleeting they may be was another. But then there was the ever present fact that Jungkook and his band were so quick to rise to fame, their names far exceeding the seemingly cramped and small city you had both reigned from, and suddenly the boy you had known forever, and everything special that makes him, was now being shared to hundreds of millions of adoring fans.

You were certain it was all Jungkook ever wanted, the added attention and the pretty girls fawning over him, because he had always been a casanova in many ways despite always promising you that you were the only one for him even before you had started dating. You had told him it wouldn’t work ━ I trust you as my best friend, you had said in a moment of despair, grasping at straws. I don’t have to worry about you breaking my heart. But I don’t know if I can trust you as my boyfriend ━ far before he and his band had been signed to their record label and paraded around the world, when they were still practicing in rented storage units and friends’ garages and rundown local studios, playing gigs anywhere and everywhere from dingy bars to college campus parties, supporting him every step of the way if only because he was your best friend, and he had been so persistent that it would work, chasing after you even when you tried to push him away. I would treat you right, he had urged so ardently late one drunken night after stumbling back to his apartment. I already practically worship the ground you walk on.

And how could you ━ who had already been so madly in love with him but scared of him breaking your heart, scared of losing him, scared of this happening ━ ever resist him? He made love seem so easy, and maybe that’s because it was when you were with him. But now, he was no longer yours; now, he was the world’s, and you were nothing but a mere hazy fragmented memory in his mind, long forgotten, watching from the side of the stage much like you always had from the very start of it all.

“Hey, isn’t this that band?” Jihyo’s voice bursts through your wandering trail of thoughts.

It takes you a moment to recollect yourself, finding yourself not in the arms of an ex-lover or stuck in a bygone time of months past, but in the cosy and amiable café nearest your campus and frequented by a plethora of your fellow peers. You’re fortunate to find that your other group mates have also become sidetracked, trailing far from the assignment you were all supposed to be working on. Dahyun is perched beside you, chin nestled in the palm of her hand and elbow propped on the table as she scrolls aimlessly through her phone; Jihyo and Taeyong were sat across from you, gossiping fervently about some mutual friend of theirs. You hadn’t known the pair long enough to know much about them or the tragic affair of whoever Mina is for accepting her cheating boyfriend back for the second time, and, likewise, they seem oblivious to your own self-wallowing once you realize what’s caught Jihyo’s sudden attention.

You hear his voice first.

It’s easy to discern, even after all this time and even amongst the muffled chatter and clanking of porcelain and cutlery of those seated around you. The sweet, velvety lull of Jungkook singing throughout the café from the overhead speakers, pretty upbeat melodies and synths mixed with wistful words making up the song he had written for you before he left, before the fame and fans, as a way of telling you how he truly felt about you. It feels like a dream, and maybe that’s because it is, bringing you instantly to another time, and another world. You still remember him showing you the unfinished song for the very first time, curled up next to him in his living room, listening to him serenade you to sleep, humming in places where he hadn’t formed the words yet, strumming along with his acoustic. It was yours and his until he showed the world almost a year ago on their very first show at the Seoul Olympic Stadium in front of thousands of people, as a final desperate act of proclaiming his love for you after a disastrous attempt at a first date that he had begged from you. Just one, he pleaded. To prove it to you that I can be a good boyfriend. And if things don’t work out, we can pretend it never happened and just go back to being us. That’s a promise.

At the time, you had treasured the song. It was beautiful in every way, his love transcending his words and enveloping your heart in pure warmth.

Now, you hate it.

It’s the third time you’ve heard the song that day. Despite avoiding it as best as you could, it seems to find a way to make itself known in your daily life like the nagging nuisance it is. Because fate seemed to enjoy its sadistic behaviour of having the song be one of the main reasons Jungkook and his band had skyrocketed to fame in such a short span of time and, suddenly, Jungkook disappearing from your life meant little when his voice remained as a constant reminder of what could have been, what couldn’t have been, and what fell apart at the already fragile seams. And what was a proclamation of love to you turned into nothing but a fabled tale of lovers. You wonder if people who hear it ever think about where they’ve gone, or who they’ve turned into, or if their love was made to last. You wonder, above all else, if people ever think about it at all.

“Beyond the Scene, right?” Taeyong asks. He seems just as animated to be discussing the song as Jungkook’s voice fades into Jimin’s.

“God, I love this song. It’s so dreamy,” Jihyo lets out a longing sigh as she slumps against her seat. “Y’know, I’m seeing them this Friday. It’s their first time being back in, like, five months.”

“Dude, I’ve been trying to get tickets to see them for months now!” Taeyong gaps incredulously. “How’d you score them?”

“A friend of a friend knows the guy who plays keys,” Jihyo says. “The cute mysterious one.”

“Yoongi, right?”

“Yeah━”

As the pair dive into a passionate discussion about the boys and their first full-length album released under their recently-signed-to label from Columbia Records, you shift uncomfortably in your seat. Dahyun almost immediately straightens up, eyes flickering from the pair to you and back again. You’re both fortunate she’s there, having known your past with Jungkook, and despise it a little more, wondering what her pitying gaze must mean.

“Hey, Dahyun. Y/N.” Taeyong’s voice grabs your attention now. “What do you think of these guys? Didn’t some of them used to go to this school?”

“Yeah, I had a few classes with their drummer.” Dahyun waves her hand airly, swiftly brushing over the fact that she did far more than have a “few classes” with any of the boys but was also one of their closest friends. “I think they’re great━” She glances sideways at you one more time. “Hey, maybe we should get back to the assignment now━”

“I had a class with their lead guitarist, Jungkook, last year,” Jihyo continues, her excitement getting the best of her as Dahyun’s voice drowns out in the foreground.

“No way!” This dubious exclamation comes from Taeyong.

“I tried talking to him once but he totally blew me off,” Jihyo says. “Which is fine, because he’s still hot. If I had known he was gonna be a famous rockstar, I’d have tried asking him out a second time━”

Suddenly, you feel sick.

It’s odd to hear two strangers discuss Jungkook’s life while you’re seated across from them, as if you’re nothing more than an outsider to whoever Jungkook has become now. But you can’t stand it anymore. You’re certain you look insane to them when you push your seat back abruptly, the metal legs screeching against the floor as you stand.

“Whoa, what’s wrong━?” Taeyong starts to ask but you’re gone before he can finish the question, murmuring a half-hearted excuse about how you forgot you needed to be somewhere.

You’ve rounded on your heel and have fled from the café before anyone can try to stop you, with nothing but Jungkook’s mellifluous voice fading in the distance as he croons aloud for you in a time long since passed.

You don’t care. Besides, you’re sure Dahyun will cover for you.

The worst part of it all? The dreadful realization that sinks into your mind, and into your heart, beckons the question: who’s to say you aren’t a stranger now to Jungkook’s life altogether?

“So, what are you trying to say?”

You remember the moment so clearly despite wanting nothing more than to forget it all, and the pain associated with it. Because even from then you knew you would always be in love with Jungkook, but you couldn’t have him. It’s hard to remember whose fault it is this time that caused the sudden fight, though random little arguments had been a frequent occurrence nearing the end of your one year relationship more often than not. You hate blaming it all on him, because you were certain you were at fault too. Maybe a little bit wary at times, a little selfish, wanting him all to yourself. Even though you knew he has an obligation to the world, it still hurt when he started making promises he couldn’t keep, blowing you off for soundchecks, or spontaneous interviews, or record label meetings. More and more you could feel the both of you drifting apart, maybe without even meaning for it to happen.

It was just that Jungkook was destined for a lifetime of greatness, and you were starting to think that meant without you.

You had stopped him late one night after he had stumbled home from his and the band’s nightly studio sessions as they worked through recording their debut album as a signed band. Lately, it seemed as if that was all that Jungkook cared about, and while you knew the band meant the world to him and you would always support him in his endeavour, you couldn’t help but feel lesser in comparison. That, and you hated seeing the boy overwork himself to the point of near exhaustion every night if only because their label was so adamant about having the album finished before the month ended.

“You want to, what? Break up?” Jungkook asked, this time more incredulously and less dumbfounded as he had initially been. He didn’t believe you just yet, but you couldn’t exactly tell what he was thinking anymore at that point.

“I just figured we could use some time apart,” You had suggested awkwardly. “Just a break.”

He had let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “Y/N, this is insane.”

You flinched. You remember having to look away, refusing to meet his suddenly sorrowful look. “Is it, Jungkook? I mean… Look at us. We’re falling apart. It was bound to happen eventually. We tried to make it work but maybe we’re on different paths now.”

“But I love you,” Jungkook gasped, exasperated. “Where is this coming from?”

“And I don’t want to have to tie you down for the rest of your life,” You continued on stubbornly, “or make you think you owe me your whole life just because you said you fell in love with me when you were thirteen━”

This seemed to catch Jungkook’s attention. He grew rigid in front of you, a look of wary agony contorting his face. “Is that what this is then? You don’t love me anymore?”

You didn’t respond immediately, instead the dread of the night seemed to finally catch up with you and you had grimaced. You had loved him even then, but the thought of voicing it aloud when you were supposed to be breaking up with him didn’t feel right. The tears began to swell in your throat and blur your vision. Jungkook must have noticed, because he always seems to spot the small things about you that even you miss. Almost instantly, the sour look on his face softened and his gaze turned helpless, with those big puppy-dog eyes that you’ve always been too fond of. He closed the distance between you at once, warm hands grabbing at your own.

“You do.” It wasn’t a question, but a statement. He knew you were still in love with him ━ or maybe he’d just been hopeful. “I know you do. So then why are you breaking up with me?” 

He let go of one of your hands to reach up to your face, calloused fingers gentle and soft against your cheek as they brushed away a rogue tear you hadn’t realized had fallen from your lashes. For a moment, you had let yourself get carried away. You leaned into the comforting heat and touch of his palm as he cradled your face.

“Don’t━” You choked out after a moment of silence, hating when your voice splintered into a sob. “Don’t touch me. Please, Jungkook. You’re only going to make this harder.”

His hands sprang away from your face almost at once, as if he had just been burnt by scalding fire. He wanted nothing more than to reach out and pull you into his arms but he had refrained the urge somehow, miraculously. So, instead, he grit his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as his arms fell limp at his sides.

“Then don’t do this. Don’t walk away,” Jungkook pleaded desperately. “I don’t understand. If you love me still, why are you making this harder for yourself?”

“Because what if that’s all we have in common anymore?” You asked wretchedly. “We care about each other. We always will. But you’re focused on the band, and this is my last year of school. Maybe we just need time to focus on ourselves.”

Jungkook blinked once. Twice. His stare was suddenly devoid of any emotion as he gawked at you, but you could tell that he was hurting. It was there in the fluttering of nerves in his jaw; there, in the way his lips pulled taut into a thin line; there, in the way even you could see his eyes begin to shimmer with wet tears that he unabashedly displays without trying to wipe away.

“So that’s it?” he asked. “After everything we’ve been through. You’re just gonna end it, like that? Y/N, come on━”

His hands had found purchase on your waist, and you had lingered for a moment too long; then, fumbling, he tried to grab delicately at your face, probing you to look at him. But you couldn’t. The moment you met his wounded gaze, you shook your head furiously. You had slithered out of his grasp, slipping through the seams of his fingers just like that.

“I━” You paused. “This isn’t some spur of the moment decision, Jungkook. How can you not see it? I’ve felt so alone these past few months. It’s like you’re here but not entirely. Your mind is always somewhere else, always thinking about the band and never about us.”

“What am I supposed to do?” he had asked hotly. “The band is my everything.”

“And what am I?” You asked. The question only mildly offended you, a shot right to your heart. Because if the band was his everything, what were you in comparison? “A distraction until you get everything you want? I can’t keep being that.”

“No!” he protested. “You’re not a distraction. You’re━” He stopped himself short, brows furrowing. “You can’t keep pinning this all on me. You just don’t trust me, do you? You never did. Always thinking I’m with some other girl when I’m not with you━”

“That’s not true,” You admonished.

“Isn’t it?” Jungkook retaliated.

“I don’t want to hear it,” You had said at once. Your tone was final, a decisive ending to your argument with him. “My mind’s already been made up, Jungkook. I don’t think we should see each other again until we sort all this out ━ or, until you sort out whatever your priorities are.”

Jungkook’s stare had hardened, a frown deeply etching into his face. He had straightened up then, perplexed and upset with your standoffish demeanour, as if thinking this surely meant nothing to you. But little did he know this would become one of the hardest decisions you would have to make.

“Fine,” he said rigidly. “If that’s how it is, then I’m gone. You’ll never have to see me again.”

You hadn’t known at the time just how terribly you had messed up ━ neither had Jungkook. He had left before you could stop him, or before either of you could change your minds. Because nothing’s worse than a broken heart, blinded by stubborn and defensive rage. Accusatory fingers and blaming him or you wouldn’t heal the wounds that had already formed, and ending things seemed to only make it worse, months of lonely heartache without Jungkook to further prove just that…

The last time you spoke to Jungkook, you told him you never wanted to see him again ━ or, at least, that seems to be how he interpreted it.

Now, you were standing in the midst of his domain, surrounded by everyone in his public sphere of friends and colleagues and acquaintances, and there was certainly no way of escaping him.

You were starting to think you’re losing mind, because you’d truly have to be insane to have worked up the nerve to agree to go with Dahyun to a party being held celebrating the band’s recent tremendous success and headlining their first world tour. Their manager, Jin, had personally reached out to you and Dahyun, calling you as a means of asking you to attend, though you had given him a timid and dismissive response at first. If it hadn’t been for Dahyun purposely and almost quite literally dragging you out under the premise that “even if you don’t want to see Jungkook, you at least owe it to the boys to go,” you don’t think you’d even be here. But while you didn’t know where you stood with Jungkook anymore, that didn’t mean you weren’t still proud of him or the rest of the boys. It just became harder to bask in their success with them when you had gone from knowing every detail of their lives, of Jungkook’s life, to knowing only what you could hear from gossiping fans around you, or plastered in tabloids, or all over any form of social media.

The party is held at some sort of fancy lavish restaurant, the entire back room rented out by the band’s record label and management, and is filled with dozens of people you don’t know. Fortunately, you and Dahyun aren’t left alone for very long, as an elated Jin and Jimin, the appointed lead singer, bustle their way through the crowd to you almost as soon as you arrive, leaving very little time for you to feel so awkward that you consider running away again. Jimin, in all his spritely and extravagant blue haired disposition, wastes no time in engulfing you both in a comforting hug as if months hadn’t passed since you’ve last seen them.

“Glad you guys could make it!” Jin smiles from over Jimin’s shoulder.

“It’s been forever,” Jimin affirms.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Dahyun says. “I’m surprised you guys didn’t forget about us, considering you’re big rockstars now.”

“Rockstar is a bit of an overstatement.” An effortlessly charming smirk unfurls on Jimin’s face, which seems to immediately dazzle Dahyun. “Besides, we could never forget you. Hey, come with me to find the guys. I think we could all use some time to catch up━”

He places his hand on the small of Dahyun’s back as he guides her away, leaving you with Jin. A moment of silence passes, in which time you can feel the boy’s eyes lingering on you.

“He knows you’re coming tonight, if that��s what you’re worried about,” Jin says carefully, treading over his words lightly. It’s too painfully obvious who he’s talking about, though you’re fortunate he doesn’t bother mentioning Jungkook’s name anyway. “There’s no point in hiding. I think you should talk to him.”

“I━” You trail off uselessly, your voice croaking. Fearing an imminent breakdown, you shake your head. Then, holding your chin a little higher, Jin’s startled to hear you pretend as if he hadn’t said anything. “It really is good to see you guys again. If you’ll excuse me, I think I need a drink.”

And you’re gone once more before he can say anything else. On your lonesome, you find refuge at the bar, though you only order water because you’re certain you won’t be able to stomach anything stronger. You don’t know how long you spend there, blankly staring at a spot on the wall as your mind wanders everywhere and yet nowhere at all until━

“Y/N?”

There it is again. The familiar sound of his voice, only this time it’s much more attainable, closer to your world and not elsewhere so high in the clouds like a hopeful dream. You brace yourself before turning to face him.

This close, Jungkook looks breathtakingly and painfully beautiful.

As always, he’s adorned in all black, the first few buttons of the silky blouse he’s wearing left undone so that it teases the exposed flesh of his collarbones and the rose tattoo that inks his chest, the thorny stems crawling up the side of his neck just below his ear, accompanied by a pair of leather pants. He’s the same as ever. The same imperfect tattoos that decorate his fingers and arms that you’ve always loved, the same ring-clad fingers painted a chipped black, the same hoop accentuating his button nose. His hair is still his natural dark ebony color (something he’s seemed to stick with much more as of late despite dyeing it wild colours throughout his past), only it’s a little longer than you last remembered, and the sides of his head are shaved in the form of an undercut. You’re foolishly surprised to find he still looks the same, but almost a year away from someone can both change nothing and yet everything all at once.

“Jungkook…” You want to say something more, but your words fall short.

It’s hard to tell if he’s angry or upset at seeing you there, but you don’t think he’s either, and you have an inkling of a thought that he purposely sought you out amongst the many faces. Instead, he looks hesitant, apprehensive, as if dreading how you’ll respond to see him. As if you’ll yell at him, push him away. You do neither, fortunately.

Just when the dense silence starts to become almost unbearable, Jungkook clears his throat. “I━ Wow… You look great.”

You blink once, a flustered blush warming your face that you hope he doesn’t notice. “Oh. Thank you. You do, too.”

His eyes flicker over your presence as he nods absentmindedly. Then, he’s offering you a pretty smile, soft and sweet in nature. No malice, or ill-intent. “Um━ How have you been?”

You hate this. You hate the awkward pauses, the prolonged periods of silence. A year ago, even despite knowingly pining for one another, your moments alone with Jungkook were never so terrible. He always found a way to say something cheekily flirtatious even when you were just friends, if only because he knew it would make you blush and giggle because, no matter how many times you would roll your eyes or nudge his sides, he also knew you secretly loved it. All the inside jokes, the milestones shared together, the ardent fleeting touches ━ where did it all go? And while you were both noticeably trying to maintain the peace and pleasantry between one another, it didn’t feel the same. It felt forced, fake. Distracted.

“I’ve been good,” You lie. “How about you? Actually, don’t answer that━” You let out a breathless chuckle. “You’ve clearly been doing amazing. I mean, your album, and your world tour. And tomorrow you’ve got a big day with the hometown show. I heard it sold out in the first ten minutes.”

“Something like that,” Jungkook says modestly. “It’s been kind of crazy. Namjoon says it’s good, but I miss━ I just miss a lot of how it used to be. The slow pace. I dunno. The quick burn up is quick to burn out, right?”

“Maybe,” You admit. “But I think you’ve all got it in you. You’ve worked so hard for this moment. Enjoy it while you’re in it. You deserve it, Jungkook.”

His stare softens as it meets yours. “Thanks.”

Another beat of silence passes. He looks as if he’s warring with himself, as if he’s fighting the urge to say something more, gnawing at his lower lip, brows knitting together.

“Yo, Jeon!” A foreign voice from amongst the crowd beckons aloud abruptly for the boy.

Jungkook glances over his shoulder swiftly in search of the source, then waves his hand as if to motion he’ll be there later. Then, he turns back to you. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay. I won’t keep you,” You say. “I know you’re busy.”

“But━” He stops himself, his jaw clamping shut. Changing his mind, he decides to ask hopefully, “Will you be at the show tomorrow?”

“Of course.” The affirmation seems to relieve him, even though it’s a spontaneous decision made by you on the spot. Before this moment, you hadn’t been so sure you could go.

“Promise?”

You can’t help but shake your head, a chuckle slipping past your lips at the innocent boyish question he asks. “Yes, Jungkook.”

His smile widens a little more, however sheepish it may be. “Then can you promise me one more thing?”

“What?” You quirk a brow, intrigued to say the least.

“Will you drop by the hotel we’re staying at tomorrow morning, so I can take you out for a coffee? Just to catch up. It’s been a while,” he says timidly. Then, feeling a little stupid for being so bold, scrambles to explain himself. “And no pressure if you don’t want to. I just thought━”

You can’t possibly say no. Not when it comes to Jungkook, all your past struggles seemingly vanishing without a trace. “I’d like that a lot, Jungkook.”

“Really?”

“Yeah.”

Then he’s positively beaming, his self-indulgent grin making your own heart flutter in your chest. When he leaves your side that night, you find yourself looking forward to the future perhaps a little too optimistically. But how terrible could grabbing coffee with your ex be, if you had survived the first wretched encounter?

So, in the morning when you wake, there’s not a stutter in your step or a wavering flicker of your confidence as you make your way to the Four Seasons hotel Jungkook had told you to from the night before. In fact, a selfish part of you almost thinks that maybe things will start to look up. That maybe you and Jungkook can finally make amends. That maybe you never had a reason to fear Jungkook breaking your heart if he made such an effort to heal it.

The hotel itself is one of the most luxurious ones in Seoul, a considerable contrast from when the boys were slumming it on friends’ couches and in their run-down van touring the country. The room Jungkook tells you to meet him at is one of the hotel’s grand suites, located on the higher levels of the building. But as soon as you reach the landing and have begun making your way towards the designated door, it flings open and a pretty girl comes stumbling out. She’s giggling at something that has just happened inside, her hair a dishevelled mess which she ruffles up in an attempt to fix it. She’s adorned in a pretty little dress, the skirt of which is hiked a little higher up and one strap falling down her shoulder, as she clings her shoes and bag to her chest. She smiles at you on the way past, though she’s too far gone in her own little daze that you wonder if she even notices you at all.

But you certainly notice her, and, all at once, your reverie of him and what could be comes crashing to the ground once more.

Maybe you should have stayed, should have waited for Jungkook to let him explain, but you were too afraid to hear an answer you weren’t looking for. You try desperately not to imagine Jungkook loving someone else. You try not to think about him holding her the same way he held you, his lips finding purchase on some other girl. But by trying to avoid the thought, it beckons the unwarranted memories of how it felt to be loved all over by him once upon a time. You wonder how many girls he’s hooked up with in your time apart, and the overwhelming sense of regret washes over you.

You don’t bother to wait. You know fleeing is the easiest option rather than facing your fear, but you’re far too timid of rejection again. Instead, even before you can approach Jungkook’s hotel room and knock on the door, you turn on your heels and run.

You’re long gone by the time Jungkook comes to the door, prying it open in search of you on a whim. When he doesn’t see you, he glances up and down the hallway but to no avail. Namjoon comes slinking past inside then in his own disoriented haze, having just woken up from moments ago when the girl he had taken back to their room the night before left. Even then, Jungkook had warned the rhythm guitarist against bringing the girl back, pointing out the fact that they had much to do today ahead of their concert. Namjoon had promised it wouldn’t be long, that she would be gone in the morning, and Jungkook was fortunate enough that the suite had two separate bedrooms on the opposite ends of one another so that Jungkook didn’t have to hear whatever it was the pair were doing in the other.

“Did Mina leave?” Namjoon asks through a yawn, digging the heels of his palms into his tired eyes. When Jungkook nods, a sliver of a reminiscent smug grin tugs at Namjoon’s lips. “You missed out, Jungkook.”

The cheeky quip is met with a roll of Jungkook’s eyes. “I’m sure I’ll survive. You know I’m not like that.”

Like that━ As in midnight hook-ups and cheap thrills alike. He tried it once, far ago when you had first broken up with him, on a drunken spur of a moment as a way of healing the anguish in his heart. It hadn’t worked then; he assumed it would never work.

Namjoon seems to understand this immediately. He gives Jungkook a look that the boy doesn’t notice. “Well… is Y/N here yet?”

“No. But I’m sure she’ll be here,” Jungkook grimaces. He hopes. “Something probably came up.”

Namjoon clasps a reassuring hand on Jungkook’s shoulder, humming aloud, “Good luck, dude.”

But you never arrive, even though Jungkook waits for most of the morning, nervous eyes flickering to the door at every commotion outside, running to check only to see room service delivering breakfast or concierge showing guests to their rooms. He has no choice but to give up on the thought of you coming when Jin knocks on their door, prompting the boys to get a start on their day. Interviews and soundcheck await, but how could he possibly go on with his life without knowing what happened to you?

Which is why you stay on his mind for the rest of the day, distracting him in every aspect, mixing up his words when he’s in the midst of his interview, tripping up on stage as the boys set up and begin to rehearse. As the hours wane down to just an hour before the show, the thought of performing in front of thousands of fans starts to make him nervous and he doesn’t know why. He’s done this countless times before, almost nightly during the tour, so what stops him now? Of course he knows the answer, had grown all too accustomed to the feeling the first few months in which the break up had been so recent. It would always be about you.

But just before the show starts, Jungkook is making his way backstage from the greenroom, where the band had been waiting, to the stage. Fiddling with his in-ear piece, he almost doesn’t notice you and Dahyun weaving your way through the roadies and sound tech, being guided by Jin to the pit on the side of the stage where only family and friends are allowed. You don’t see him, and there’s a split moment where he thinks he should just let you go, until he doesn’t.

As he makes his way to you, the tour manager for the band intervenes part way, shouting out to the boy. “Where are you going? We’re on in five, Jungkook!”

“Yeah, I’ll be right back━” He waves the manager off as politely as he can, wasting no time to chase after you. He calls out your name, though it drowns out in the sound of the music being blasted through the speakers of the arena and the screaming fans. “Y/N, wait up!”

He’s relieved when he sees you stop in your tracks, turning to face him as Dahyun and Jin become lost in the chaos of the backstage. He comes to stand just before you, smiling breathlessly at you, unaware of the way your shoulders tense at the sight of him.

“You didn’t show up this morning,” he says as a way of greeting, his voice a curious prob. “What happened?”

You try desperately not to get lost in his big beautiful eyes, laced with such hope. Instead, you fold your arms over your chest, looking away. “Something came up.”

It’s then that Jungkook senses something is wrong. You’re upset with him, though he can’t tell why. Aside from the obvious rift in your relationship that had initially split you two up, you had been so pleasant to see him the night before. But he doesn’t give up just yet. “Well… you’re here now.”

You meet his gaze with your own hardened one. “For the boys.”

A shot right to his heart almost makes Jungkook gasp for air. He flinches, and then his stare softens, and you wish he wouldn’t look at you like that, out of fear that you might just relapse into his arms.

“What’s wrong?” He closes the distance between the two of you. He wants nothing more than to reach out and touch you, but refrains with much difficulty. There’s dozens of things that could be wrong, and he braces himself for your retaliation. “You didn’t want to come, did you?”

When you don’t respond, but also don’t stray from his side, Jungkook hurries to speak again if only to fill the tense silence.

“Look, last night… Maybe it was just me, but last night seemed like things were okay,” he says. “Was I wrong to feel that way?”

“Jungkook…”

“Please, just let me know,” he begs. “Because you’re all I can think about these days, it’s driving me crazy. And I don’t know what’s going on, but the reason I wanted to see you this morning was because I hate how things ended between us, and I wanted to tell you…” He swallows nervously as he trails off uncertainly. “I wanted to tell you that I’m still in love with you. And I can’t get you out of my head. These months away from you made me realize that I━”

Suddenly, you’re shaking your head and he knows you don’t believe him. As soon as the words leave his mouth, he regrets saying it, if only because they seem to enliven you. Now, you push yourself away from the boy. “I’m not doing this right now. You’re not doing this right now.”

As if to further your point, the band’s tour manager can be heard calling out frantically for the boy. “Two minutes, Jungkook!”

But Jungkook is hardly paying attention now, instead solely focused on you. “Please, Y/N━”

“No, you don’t get to say that to me,” You admonish hotly. You can’t bite the words back, no matter how hard you try. “You don’t love me. You think you love me, but you don’t.”

His jaw clenches, and his brows furrow into a frustrated stare. “I do.”

“You don’t.”

“Yes, I do.”

“Stop.” The harsh word makes Jungkook clamp his mouth shut. You shake your head furiously, but you know it’s only to distract yourself so that you don’t let the tears fall. “You’re being selfish, Jungkook. You don’t get to take all of me, love all of me, and leave, only to come back months later and pretend you’re still in love with me. And whatever this━” You gesture vaguely between the two of you, “is, or was, doesn’t exist anymore. We both need to stop pretending otherwise.”

Jungkook winces, eyes tinged with pain. “You don’t mean that.”

You don’t respond. Elsewhere, his tour manager starts to grow impatient, scolding the boy aloud, “Jungkook, we’re gonna be late. Hurry up!”

“Yeah, I’ll be there!” Jungkook calls back, irritated. Maybe he is being selfish. He’s wasting precious time by not leaving, all the hard work that the crew put into tonight’s show, and the fans awaiting his and the band’s arrival. He can still hear the crowd, this time their buzzing voices amalgamating into unanimous chanting muffled by the walls that sounds akin to the band’s name.

“You should go,” You say now. “Don’t wanna disappoint them.”

But he’d throw it all away for you if you told him to. He promised you that even before he had left for tour, before the band had been signed. Had you forgotten? Because he surely hadn’t.

“Y/N…”

“Good luck out there.”

Then, you’re gone before Jungkook can even make a move to stop you ━ but even if he did, what could he do to make you stay? The feat seemed impossible, and you always seem to find a way to slip from his grasp no matter what he does. Only this time he has no choice but to let you go, out of fear of being berated further by his tour manager or angering the boys so much to the point where he gets kicked out of the band.

He makes it on stage in time, the band filing out to take their places one at a time, deafening screams blowing out their in-ear pieces that stand no chance as each member joins the stage. The lights fizzle out until complete darkness cloaks the venue, but Jungkook still looks for you. He finds you in the pit on the side of the stage, Jin and Dahyun standing beside you, and finds it hard to keep his eyes off of you even though you attempt to pretend as if he’s not even there.

After their first adrenaline-filled opening song of the night, Jimin takes to the microphone to greet the crowd who scream back an indiscernible shout as, elsewhere, you notice Jungkook pry himself away from the microphone stand on his side of the stage to wave the rest of the boys over to Hoseok’s drum kit. They murmur amongst themselves briefly, though they go unnoticed by Jimin or the crowd as the lead singer entertains them.

“Seoul! It’s good to be back. We’ve missed you all so much━”

Jimin’s words get cut short when Jungkook, having just parted ways with the rest of his members for their impromptu meeting, beckons the lead singer over, out of range of the microphone. They seem to discuss something just as shortly as Jungkook had talked with the rest of the boys, in which time Jimin nods understandingly, then steps away from the microphone. Then, Jungkook takes to the microphone, the rings on his fingers glistening under the spotlight as he grips the stand.

“I know the night’s only getting started,” Jungkook’s voice wavers as he speaks, “but we’re gonna slow things down for a moment. We hope you don’t mind.”

Intrigued murmurs echo around the crowd, suddenly buzzing with excitement as they watch Jungkook with eager eyes. A few encouraging bellows has Jungkook smiling smally. Jin, on the other hand, looks perplexed.

“What is he doing?” Jin asks no one in particular, a quizzical look on his face. “This isn’t part of their set.”

“I think a lot of you might know this next song,” Jungkook continues, “but I don’t think I’ve ever expressed how much it means to me. This next one, I wrote for a special someone, and it sort of helped us achieve all of this. So, I think it’s time that person knows how much they mean to me.”

Jungkook glances nervously over at the boys standing behind him, each in their own respective spots. Then, sweeping his gaze across the crowd, he finally finds you already staring up at him. His own eyes soften into a look of longing, however hardened by past tribulations and sorrow it may be. As if he’s determined not to lose you again; determined to make it up to you.

“This next one is for Y/N,” he says timidly. He has to turn away from you in the next second, afraid he might just break down before the fans and the boys and you. “I’m sorry I messed up.”

As the boys take their place, with Jimin taking an acoustic and fading back from the limelight, you wonder why. But then you hear it, the familiar beginning chords making up the song you had so wholeheartedly claimed you hated. Only this time they’re gentler, made up of acoustic strums of a guitar, Hoseok’s drums, and Yoongi’s keys, all amalgamating into a pretty song almost unrecognizable.

Then, Jungkook starts singing, and what was once a wistful dreamy song of prospective lovers suddenly turns into a melancholic requiem for you. Some lyrics are changed, present tense turning to the past, and Jungkook sings his way throughout the entirety of the song in contrast to the one that plays all over the radio featuring the other member’s voices. The fans sing along, their voices melding with Jungkook’s into some sort of celestial mellifluous choir, and you’re left no longer wondering if the fans would ever know the meaning behind the song that Jungkook had brought to life. Because now, it wasn’t just Jungkook singing to you; it was the whole world. And yet, paradoxically at the same time, it felt all that much more intimate. As if it were just you and him once again, seated on the couch in his small apartment, listening to the beginnings of what would be their number one selling song.

Above all else, you realize that you don’t seem to hate the song as much you claimed to.

That night, you can’t sleep.

You find yourself leaving the venue earlier than everyone else, even when the boys invite you and Dahyun to join them for celebratory drinks, returning to your home in the hopes of forgetting the night altogether. Instead, you stay up tossing and turning, your mind filled with memories consisting of only Jungkook and his haunting voice singing to you, and for you. But at some point during the night nearing one or two in the morning, just when you give up on the idea of sleep, the sound of incessant knocking at your front door rouses you from your trance.

When you finally answer the door, you’re more than surprised to see that Jungkook stands on the other side of the threshold as if coming to you from a dream. But then you register the fact that he’s a complete mess. Dark circles line his weary eyes, now smudged with that faint hint of charcoal liner he had worn for the concert, hair so messily mused beyond repair, and you notice quickly that he’s crying, fresh tears glazing over his pupils and streaking down his face. It’s startling to see him in such shambles, a complete contrast to how effortlessly charming and confident he usually portrays himself. But though you’ve seen him cry before on various occasions, now is all the more unsettling.

“I━I’m sorry.” It’s the first thing he says, screwing his eyes shut tightly as he shakes his head. He fumbles over his words, slurring them together in his rush to get them out. “I know I’m probably the last person you want to see right now, but I needed to see you.”

“Are you drunk?”

“No, no, I swear━” He pries his eyes open to meet your desolate stare, tears unabashedly falling from his lashes. His voice thins with desperation. “You said we need to stop pretending, but I’m not pretending. I never have been. And if you think ━ if you truly believe ━ that there’s nothing here between us anymore… Tell me. Right here, right now. And I’ll leave you alone forever, you’ll never have to see me again. I just━ I’ve missed you every moment and it kills me.”

You’re silent for a long period, pitying gaze sweeping over him, but he doesn’t care if he looks insane. He just needs you to know how he feels.

“Well, how do you think I felt?” You ask the question carefully, but then the memories come flooding back and the semblance of a scowl forms on your face. “You leave and suddenly everywhere I look I see you. Your song is playing everywhere, you and the guys are everywhere, and I’m reminded every day about how we ended. About how you left me.”

Jungkook blinks. He shakes his head stubbornly, the nerves in the corner of his jaw fluttering as he grits his teeth. “You were the one who said we should take a break.”

“A break!” You snap sternly. “Fuck, Jungkook. I didn’t want you out of my life forever. I wanted you to fight for me.”

“No, don’t put this all on me,” Jungkook pleads helplessly. “I have always fought for you. But the minute things got rough, you bailed. You told me you never wanted to see me again. What the hell was I supposed to do?”

“I was scared!” You try to swallow the tears away that start to form as a lump in your throat but to no avail. “I was, and I still am, so fucking scared of losing you. And you━ It felt like you gave me no choice. Like you were over it. I would have wanted to make things work but you left. You just… You left, and suddenly it was like you were never in my life at all. Seven months, and I get no word from you.”

“I fucked up, okay!” He cries out so suddenly, it silences you at once. He bites at his lip, and straightens up half-heartedly, running a hand through his hair. When he meets your stare this time, he’s zealous yet sincere. “I know that I messed up. I know. And it fucking kills me every single day. I don’t know where it went wrong, but it did, and I know it’s all my fault. When you said we should take a break and I agreed, I was only thinking about you. Because I knew I was disappointing you every day, and I was afraid that was all I would ever do, and you don’t deserve that. I thought it would be better this way, if I was just gone from your life for good. But I can’t forget you.”

“How can I trust you?” You ask. When his pained stare gawks at you, you tilt your chin a little higher. “I came by your hotel room yesterday morning, just like you asked, only to see that girl leaving.”

Jungkook’s gawk turns into a dumbfounded expression. He looks weary as he shakes his head, as if struggling to keep up with the way you accuse him now. He tries not to focus on the fact that you actually came to the hotel, then feels inconsolably terrible when he realizes why he never got to see you. “That girl was Namjoon’s fling. We were sharing the suite, and they were in a whole other room. I didn’t even think about her━”

Your stare droops from him, and he knows he’s struggling to keep you on his side.

“Okay, fine. You want trust? I’ll give it to you,” he says. A newfound sense of confidence seems to possess him, though he approaches the topic with extra caution anyway. “After we broke up, I was crushed. I couldn’t move on from you, and the guys thought I should get drunk, find a random girl to bring back to our hotel one night on tour. And I listened, because I wanted to forget you, but it didn’t work. All I could think about was you. Every time she touched me, every time she kissed me, I could only imagine it was you. And when she left that night, I broke down because I felt like such a fucking idiot. I instantly regretted it. Like, even though you and I weren’t together, I still did something to hurt you by sleeping with that girl. And all it did was hurt me too in the process.”

He pushes himself forward, taking a step over the threshold. Even despite him admitting his wrongs to you, you can’t find it in yourself to hate him. Because, at the end of it all, he’s here at your doorstep, pleading for you to forgive him, but he had already won the moment your eyes had landed on him.

“You’re the reason I am who I am today.” His voice is hoarse when he speaks, almost in a whisper. “That I get to do what I love for a living. But all of it means nothing without you. You saw me at my worst, and my best. And you were the best I ever had, and I ruined it, and the worst part of it all is that there’s nothing I can do to make up for it. But I promise I can make it better ━ I can make it right again ━ if you just give me a chance.”

There’s a short pause filled with poignant silence in which Jungkook thinks you’ll push him away or scream at him. He’s fortunate when you do neither; instead, he hears you whisper faintly.

“Kiss me, Jungkook.”

And it’s more than enough for him. His heart thrums in delight as he wastes no time in reaching out for you. His hands are warm as they come to grasp at your face, holding you delicately; then he’s leaning in to you, drawing you closer and closer until his lips are pressed against yours. It’s unadulterated, but not without feverish passion, noses smushing together in both your eager hastiness to close the distance between the two of you. It doesn’t last long either, though that’s partly because Jungkook can taste your tears mingling on your lips, and can feel your faint smile form against his mouth. Kissing him feels both foreign yet familiar at the same time. You know the feel, the taste, and the sense of comfort that comes with it, but months apart from one another has left it feeling different.

Jungkook’s thumb wipes away at the tears on your face. “Why are you crying?”

It’s a useless question, he knows, but he needs something to fill the silence. He’s relieved when he hears you snicker. “Because I miss you, you idiot. And I’m sorry I’ve been acting like such an idiot. I’ve messed everything up.”

His own shoulders quiver with contented mirth. “It’ll be okay.” As he leans in once more for another kiss, you can feel him murmur against your mouth, “I promise I’ll make it up to you.”

“Then make it right,” You say, “right here and now.”

“I’ll do anything for you,” he promises earnestly.

Jungkook understands the underlying yearning in your voice even without having you explain yourself. He knows, if only because he can feel it too. As his hands fall to your waist, fingers digging into your skin, your own arms wrap around his neck and pull him into your apartment. He has you pressed up against the nearest wall within seconds, kissing at your throat, then up to your jawline.

“It’s been so long,” he sighs.

You hum in agreement, though your mind is already spinning, and all you can muster is a weak yet urgent croak of his name. “Jungkook.”

Your fingers thread through his hair, tugging at the roots and he croons with delight. His lips finally meet yours again, only this time he lets his tongue lav at your lower lip. Almost as soon as he does so, you notice something strange. It takes a moment for you to register the small metallic object that grazes your lower lip but when you do, you pull away from the boy.

“What’s wrong?” Jungkook asks in a confused dazed.

“Is that…” You rasp. “Did you get your tongue pierced?”

Suddenly, Jungkook is smirking, one brow shooting up to his hairline in a smug demeanour. He sticks out his tongue for you to see the silver ball poking through and you almost moan at the sight of it as the thought entices you.

“Oh.” Your face warms with a flustered blush. “That’s new.”

“Yeah,” he says. “Always wanted to get it done. Guess I was saving it for the right moment.”

“Right moment, huh?” You scoff as if the implications don’t already have your thighs rubbing together. “Care to explain?”

“I think you’ll find out soon enough.”

You dissolve into a fit of giggles, marvelling at the way Jungkook’s familiar flirtatious bantering can soothe your troubled heart at once. It’s almost as if time hasn’t lapsed between the two of you.

“I’ve missed this,” You sigh. “I’ve missed you, Jungkook.”

You spot him smiling before he’s kissing you again, this time his tongue slipping past your parted lips to meet yours midway. The piercing is strange to adjust to, but you get used to it quickly, humming at the feeling of it against the soft flesh of your tongue. It’s easy to get lost in one another’s lips as you pull and tug at Jungkook, guiding him to your bedroom, nearly tripping and stumbling over one another in the process. He knows the path like the back of his hand, the same way he knows every curve and dimple of your body as his greedy hands explore you. He has you sprawled out beneath him on the bed in a matter of seconds, carelessly shedding each other of your clothes until you’re left naked and he’s without a shirt.

As he’s tugging off the hoodie you’re wearing, he realizes two things abruptly. One: you’re not wearing anything beneath it, your bare body dazzling him at once. And, two: a sudden thought jogs his memory that makes him ponder aloud, “Is this my sweater?”

“Yes,” You admit sheepishly.

He smirks. “Was wondering where it went.”

“You forgot to take it back when…” You don’t finish your sentence. Instead, you tug your fingers at the hair at the nape of his neck, as if scared he’ll leave again. He doesn’t. Instead, he nestles his body between your legs, tonguing patterns on your neck. “I wear it sometimes, especially when I’m missing you. I don’t know… It just━ It still smells like you, even after all this time.”

Jungkook’s heart nearly implodes. He wonders briefly if he’d prefer fucking you without or with the hoodie; but then he’s letting himself time to study your naked body and he deduces he needs to gaze at you in your entirety a little longer.

“Keep talking,” he murmurs. He starts kissing down your body now, starting from your throat to your collarbones, between the valley of your breasts, then your navel. “Tell me more. How badly did you miss me?”

“So badly,” You whimper. Your legs instinctively part to make way for him as he shifts downward, kissing just above your core. A shudder runs down your spine when he kisses the inside of your thigh. “Sometimes I’d put your sweater on and touch myself to the thought of you.”

He grunts against you, teeth softly biting at your flesh. His tongue pokes against your thigh, the metallic piercing a dully cold sensation as he licks upward to your core. He laps at your folds, as if to taste the glistening cum that starts to form.

Your breath audibly hitches in your throat, hips jutting forward to meet his mouth. “I missed your hands, and the way they made me feel. Missed your mouth between my legs. Missed cumming on your tongue, or your fingers.”

Now, you’re starting to understand what he meant by waiting for the right moment to use the piercing to its fullest potential. As he lifts his head higher to tongue at your clit, the piercing makes your head spin. The contrast between his soft tongue and the harsh metal works wonders against you, rubbing you just the right way that has you a moaning mess beneath him within a matter of seconds.

“Fuck━” You cry out, hands twisting in his hair. “My hands never feel the same. You always made me feel so good, Jungkook.”

He hums something in response, the sound reverberating up your spine. He busies himself by replacing his tongue with his finger, rubbing small, controlled circles against your clit as he lowers his mouth to your folds. He teases the piercing against the sensitive flesh before lapping at your insides, burrowing further into you.

“Ooh, Jungkook━”

The noise that eclipses your throat is a piqued sob of delight. The piercing that scratches against your walls has your insides throbbing, body twisting and turning beneath him. You grab at your breasts, fingers pinching at the perked buds as you imagine Jungkook’s hands in replace of yours.

His mouth wraps just right around you and he sucks hard, earning a beautiful moan from you. It doesn’t take long for you to draw closer to your high, sputtering and whimpering at every action he does. Soon he’s burrowing his face even closer against your core, nose nudging against your clit in a way that makes you writhe and squirm. Before he can get carried away (and he certainly could), Jungkook decides to come to a stop which seems to thoroughly surprise and upset you. When you feel his missing warmth between your legs and the sticky wet mess accentuated further by the cool air that hits you, you pout like a child.

“That’s not fair,” you whine.

“Sorry, baby. Need to feel you.” He pulls away from you and crawls over your body once more. He kisses your lips, sloppy and heated, and lets you taste your own succulence on your tongue. “God, I need to feel you so bad.”

You’re just as much startled as you were seconds ago to hear the slight whine in his voice, a sound hot enough to almost push you over the edge.

“I’ve missed you too, just so you know,” he moans, burrowing his face in the crook of your neck. Your fingers continue to scratch delicately at his scalp and he simpers delightfully against you. He ruts his hips eagerly against yours, the bulge in his pants rough against your core. “So fucking much.”

“How much?” Now it’s your turn to ask, your curiosity getting the best of you once you find your voice.

“Every day,” he sighs as he continues to grind his hips into yours. “Get so hard at the thought of you. Your pretty mouth moaning my name. Your hands in my hair, just like this━” You pull a little tighter at the roots of his locks, and he has to stifle his contented moan. “And your body━ Fuck, your body. You take my dick so well, baby.”

“Jungkook,” You mewl impatiently. “Wanna feel you in me.”

“Fuck, okay. Okay━”

He hastens to rid himself of his pants and you help, arms momentarily tangling with one another in your rush. Then he’s kneeling before you, one hand planted firmly on your hip, rings digging roughly against your skin, as his other hand wraps a fist around his hard length, slowly pumping himself. He guides the tip of his leaking cock to your core and pushes himself forward carefully. He easily slips past your folds, coaxed by your slick walls, that he has to pause to give you both time to adjust to the feeling. It’s just as he remembered, though somehow better, and he isn’t so sure how long he’ll last. You don’t know either, marvelling in the way he stretches you open.

“Oh, shit,” he grunts.

He watches as your jaw drops open in a silent gap, your eyes fixed only on his. You grab at his hips, fingers scratching delicately over the laurel tattoos inked there, prompting him to move. He does so in one languid movement, burying deeper and deeper into you until you feel so full and he feels so warm. He fucks into you a little sluggish at first, taking his time and enjoying the way your clenching walls feel around his throbbing cock. It’s a pace so maddening that it soon has the both of you panting, heavy moans filling the space around you. Your own fingers dig into his shoulders, his back, his hips ━ anything to keep a hold on reality as you slowly lose yourself to the pleasure. He reaches for one of your hands, eager to feel you in more ways than one, and laces his digits with yours, pressing your clasped palms above your head. You squeeze tightly, his name falling from your lips in a cry.

“Doing so good,” he mumbles through gritted teeth. “Feel so nice, baby.”

Jungkook grasps at your hips and flips the two of you over. He lands on his back on the soft mattress and you fumble to not break the pace. Firmly planting your hands on his chest, you grind against him, sweat coating your forehead. He watches you with a dark fascination, brows screwed together and jaw clenched as your own cum starts leaking down his length. Not wanting to waste another moment without being beside you, he sits up and shifts you in his lap. Then he pulls you close to him, chest pulled flush against chest to the point where he can feel the rapid beat of your heart against his. You whimper aloud, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck as he guides your hips back and forth on him. There’s little to no space between your gyrating bodies, sweaty skin sticking to one another.

At some point, Jungkook notices you’re crying again, steady tears tangling in your lashes and wetting your face. Despite the way you’re driving him to near euphoria, he brushes your hair out of your face and manages to ask, “What’s wrong? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

“I’m sorry━ fuck,” You gasp. He can tell you’re genuinely sympathetic for whatever’s making you cry but it’s hard for you to convey it properly when you’re still so consumed by him. “I’m so sorry━ I’m okay. I just━ You feel so good, Jungkook.”

“It’s okay,” he whispers, rubbing tender circles against your waist that contrasts with the fierce burn between your legs. “You’re okay, baby. Doing so well for me, aren’t you? Cum for me, yeah?”

You won’t tell him why you’re crying ━ not yet, at least. But Jungkook thinks he knows why; he can feel it too. The bitter sense of longing and mingling regret for all the time lost. The overwhelming feeling of love of finally being reunited. You continue to roll your hips against his, and he, breathless, rubs his nose faintly against yours, resting his forehead against yours.

It doesn’t take much longer after that for you to come tumbling to you high. He strokes your hair so lovingly as you ride him recklessly, leisure rolls of your hips driving you to your high. When you cum, the feeling completely washes over you and electricity crackles in your veins, warming your entire body. He holds you close to his chest the entire time as you writhe with pleasure, your walls clenching around his cock.

“Fuck, I’m gonna━” His voice splinters off as you busy yourself by sucking a bruise onto the underside of his jaw.

He reaches his high moments later just as you’re beginning to wince at the feeling of oversensitivity. He grunts and groans, spilling his hot seed into you, and then, with his hips slammed against yours, grinds leisurely to ride out your highs.

Then, the room falls silent.

Neither of you move from your warm embrace, with you still perched on his lap, his cock softening inside you as his cum runs down his length and onto your thighs. Your face is hidden in the crook of his neck, and he waits until you’ve both calmed down from your orgasms. You’re running your fingers through his sweaty hair, but he knows you’re still sad. He kisses you all over in the meantime, a few ticklish kisses that make you smile sleepily and a few loving ones that have your heart swelling. Then, he gingerly shifts your head to look at him.

“Why were you crying?” he asks silently.

It takes you a moment to respond. You cling to him tightly when you do and all he can do is cradle you closer to him. “I don’t want this to be some kind of drunken one night stand thing. Like we both needed one last fuck to get over each other, or something."

“You mean more to me than a one night stand,” Jungkook says and it makes you smile smally, a little timidly. 

“That’s good,” You say, “because I’m not over you or us. I want us to work out. I love you too much to lose you again, and I’m scared this might be the last time I’ll ever see you.”

“I’m not letting that happen,” Jungkook shakes his head furiously. “I’d be an absolute idiot to let that happen. You won’t lose me. I’m not going anywhere this time. You’re my priority, Y/N. You always have been. Not the band and definitely not the record label.”

“I’m sure the boys will love to hear that,” You snort to yourself.

“Yeah, well, I’m sure they’ll understand,” Jungkook grins. But you’re only joking, and you know he sort of is too. That’s not to say the band isn’t still important to him, but you take precedent over it. “Without you, I wouldn’t even have the chance to be where I am now.”

You nuzzle your nose against his own, and he steals one sweet kiss from you. 

“Do you really mean all that?”

“With my whole heart.”

And, when he says it, you know he means it. There’s no reason not to trust him.

You’ll both move eventually from one another’s arms, soft touches from Jungkook peeling you off of him and wrapping you in your covers before falling asleep beside you, and waking up in the morning with you in his arms. But, for now, it’s just you and him, a little broken still yet all the more in love.

While you both know healing a broken heart will take time, you’re both prepared for it because you’re both worth it to one another ━ and that’s all either of you really need in the end to make it right.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work. 

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[rocorambles]

Patient 1: Addiction

Pairing: Toji x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, NSFW, Predator and Prey themes, Cum play, Knife play, Non-Con, Degradation

Link to: Prologue

Patient Name: Fushiguro Toji

Diagnosis: Adrenaline Addiction

Your brow furrows as you stare down at your first patient’s files. An addiction isn’t uncommon, but to adrenaline? You suppose it’s possible to become addicted to just about anything. Yet there are a million questions buzzing on the tip of your tongue as you turn to Uraume who just shrugs and says you’re better off hearing it straight from Toji’s own mouth.

Everything about this psychiatric facility is strange and you curiously stare at the elevator buttons as both of you descend, noting how each button has a name of a patient next to it with the final button having no label.

“Each patient has their own floor. They’ve been here for so long that we thought it would be more humane to give them ample room to live in instead of the standard patient rooms you typically see in other facilities. After all, we’re not here to treat them like caged animals, right?”

The humanitarian in you can’t defy that logic, but you can’t help but wonder if it’s safe for them to not be bound during your session, only to cringe at your own thoughts. They’re just ill patients, humans just like you, not prisoners. With that newfound determination you stride out of the elevator only to freeze when you hear the outer elevator cage slam close on your heels.

You turn, hoping to see Uraume right behind you, but your heart sinks when you see them safely on the other side of the metal fence, an eerie grin on their face as the actual elevator doors slide shut, leaving you with some parting words.

“I’ll see you when you’re done seeing all your patients today.”

Not even seconds pass before you’re scrambling to look for a button or anything to help pry open the elevator doors, fear overwhelming you as Uraume’s ominous farewell haunts you. But there’s no escape and you turn around to take in your surroundings, trembling and on the verge of tears.

Expansive is an understatement and you nervously walk around the dimly lit area, quickly losing track of all the rooms, corridors, and dead ends you bypass and amble through despite doing your best to keep track of everything. It almost feels like it’s meant to be a maze or obstacle course of sorts…

“Well, well, well. Look at the new little mouse I’ve found.”

Your heart threatens to burst out of your chest only to still in shock when you see a familiar face grinning at you, immediately connecting it to the manilla folder tightly clenched in your hands.

“Fushiguro Toji?”

“And you must be the new shrink. Follow me, doc. I’m sure you have a lot of questions. They always do.”

You don’t want to think about what’s happened to your predecessors, this “they” Toji’s referring to. You don’t want to follow this stranger. You don’t want to be trapped in this unknown environment with a highly dangerous patient and no means of escape. But what choice do you have? And with limbs weighted with despair, you trail after the dark haired man.

You’re surprised when Toji leads you into a room not far off from the police interrogation rooms you’ve seen in movies. A single table with a chair on either side are the only furniture in the room and you quietly take a seat across from where Toji has casually slumped himself down. But you note how his large stature easily overwhelms the small space, making the substantial table between you seem meaningless.

There’s silence as you fidget and fumble with Toji’s file, trying to find any professionalism and composure you have left as said patient continues leering at you, an amused smirk ever present on his face. It feels silly to treat this like any other examination, but it seems like the only thing you can do, what Toji himself is expecting of you.

“What is...what is adrenaline addiction, in your own words?”

You wonder if this is what opening Pandora’s box felt like, the question barely out of your mouth before regret instantly seizes you as Toji’s grin only grows wider and sharper, a crazed look in his eyes when he replies.

“It means I like being excited a little too much, doc.”

“And what excites you?”

You don’t want to know his response, but it’s the only way forward and dread fills you as he responds.

“Oh, lots of things. The burn of my throat and rush to my head after taking a shot. Gambling and the uncertainty of whether you’ll win or lose. The look of despair on my victim’s face when I shove a knife through their beating heart. The way it feels so fucking perfect to shove my dick in any tight hole it’ll fit in. But you know what makes me the most excited, doc?”

It’s theatrical how he tapers off, green eyes piercing you as he silently orders you to acknowledge him. And all you can do is shake your head side to side, tears threatening to fall from your eyes as you play right into his hands.

“What makes me the most excited is the thrill of hunting pretty prey like you.”

Instincts have you jumping out of your chair and bolting from the room. You don’t dare turn to see if Toji is chasing you down, his amused cackle at your expense trailing behind you. You’re blindly running, no sense of direction as you randomly turn left and right, your only prerogative to keep moving, hopefully farther and farther from your patient. Every corridor, every passage, every room looks the same and you struggle to breathe as quietly as you can despite the way your lungs ache.

You strain to listen, but it’s hard to focus on anything other than the drumming of your racing heart and you don’t hear the figure casually ambling towards you until you’re being roughly shoved face first into the wall you’re leaning on, a toned figure pressed against your back, caging you in.

“Now, now. You’re making this way too easy. Tired already?”

It’s a rhetorical question, one you can’t bring yourself to answer anyway, not with the way your teeth chatter and your body trembles in fear as Toji loudly inhales your scent while he buries his nose in the crook of your neck, tongue lazily licking a strike of your salty sweat.

You sob as he harshly bites down, not enough to break skin, but enough to leave you aching and hold you still as his hands wander underneath your clothes, groping and kneading your breasts and ass. You’re too scared to move, fearing the consequences of resisting, praying that maybe this is it, that you’ll be let off when he gets his fill of feeling you up. But you can’t help the way you yelp and instinctively struggle against his hold when he tires of your frozen state and decides to ruthlessly twist your nipples and shove a thick finger into your tight hole.

“There we go. Glad to know you’re still alive and kicking. I don’t enjoy fucking dead and broken toys like that pink haired bastard does.”

Pink haired bastard? Your mind briefly flashes to a hazy picture you’re sure you had seen in one of the patient files. What was his name-

You shriek as Toji shoves another finger alongside the digit already in you, sobbing as you feel him stretching your walls, relentlessly pounding his fingers in and out of you, his fingers painfully pulling at your nipples. All you hear is his grunts in your ears and you clench your eyes in disgust when you feel a long hard object grinding against you, knowing full well what it is without even looking.

He’s going to rape and kill you. This is how it all ends. And you wait for it, the searing pain of that massive shaft impaling you. But it never comes and before you know it you’re moaning as he twists and flexes until he finds that soft spongy spot inside of you, insistently rubbing and stroking it with curled fingers as he continues dry humping you from behind.

You’re so lost in the sensations that you don’t notice how your body is betraying you as it unconsciously grinds back against Toji’s hand, your ass shaking and pressing even harder against Toji’s cock. It’s funny how easily you’ve lost any common sense, but you’re not here to be a vapid bimbo toy. He’ll save that side of you for one his fellow inhabitants who’ll appreciate it more and he abruptly pulls his now soaked digits out of you, snorting at how you whine from the loss.

You look so confused, so stupid as he rapidly finishes himself off, hooking down your bottoms low enough for him to shoot his sticky seed all over the inner fabric of your panties. And he grins when you practically moan as he pulls your undergarments back into place, cruelly tugging a tad too hard and wedging his cum and the stained lace deep between your abused folds.

You’re panting, looking like a wreck as you try to ground yourself from the dizzying confusion of being pulled right from the brink of an orgasm, the emptiness of your edging making your head foggy. But then something sharp is being pressed against your vulnerable neck and it’s enough to have fear jolt you back to your senses.

“Don’t be such a boring slut. Time to run and hide again. It’s playtime, bitch. Or maybe you need me to cut you up a bit. Pain’s always a good motivator.”

He’s barely finished speaking before you’re shoving him and his knife away from you and he whistles in appreciation as he watches you race away again, taking his time to tuck himself back in his pants. You’ll need as much of a head start anyway to even try and remotely make some sense of this labyrinth he knows every corner of. Not that any advantage will actually help you much. Toji’s never had a prey he couldn’t catch.

How many times has he found you and released you after defiling you just a bit more every time? Neither of you can keep track and only when Toji has shoved his cock in all three of your holes, filling every orifice with his cum and fuckig you until you can barely walk does your session end. It’s almost comical how he has to quite literally drag you back to the elevator you had come from and he cruelly laughs at the white sticky trail you’re leaving behind you with your loose holes unable to keep in the copious fluids.

You barely register what’s happening, too exhausted, too fucked out of your mind to even be bothered by the rough friction of the ground against your body, only mildly stunned by the fact that the elevator you had frantically tried to re-enter is now innocently open. And it’s with muted despair that you realize what fate has in store for you as Toji presses the button of the next lower level.

Gojo Satoru

The neatly labeled name is all you register before the elevator doors slide open and you’re shoved out of it, blearily making out the sight of Toji tauntingly waving at you from inside the metal enclosure.

“See you at tomorrow’s session, doc.”

Your world goes dark as the elevator doors shut.