#idk i just keep think of the image of him waking up after one of bill's possession with the opening bars of grey matter playing

[screampied]

ੈ✩‧₊˚ TWENTY THREE MISSED CALLS — G. SATORU

☆ sum. you had always nagged to your boyfriend satoru to answer his damn phone. it’d always go straight to voicemail—you told him in your own words, ‘toru, what if something ever happened to you?’ but this time, it was far too late.

wc. 1.7k tags. gn!reader, angst, nickname(s) 'baby, angel.'

an. idk how to write angst much but i was sad so came up w this. merry christmas :)

“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”

such a dork.

you lost count of how many times you listened to that automatic message over and over again. the playful cheekiness in his voice, you could just see his smile. the dumb dimples that poke out against both of his cheeks whenever he grinned.

a cute dork. your dork.

besides that though, it’s been at least twenty three times of you ringing him, but to no avail. each time it went straight to voicemail—sucking your teeth in confusion, you started pacing around your bedroom. it was christmas morning, and gojo promised he’d be here before you wake up.

he couldn’t be…

no, he’s gojo satoru. he always wins, right?

right..?

the more you waited, the more impatient you became. the room grew colder and colder, despite the heat being turned on. you sat on gojo’s side of the bed, inhaling his scent, as if he was here right now.

he’d always fill up the room with his loud cologne scents—you’re always telling him how it’s too strong and he always kisses your cheek, muttering, “eh really? i don’t smell it that much, baby..”

the scent was always sweet, a mixture of cinnamon and multiple other spices—you glanced at the roségold alarm clock that rested against your nightstand, the time reading six thirty am.

he still wasn’t here.

it was hard to not overthink, think the worst, gojo was always so good at calming your nerves. you’d be one to constantly overthink. his trick to stop that was to simply hold you in his arms, stroke your hair and tell you in a soft cheery voice, “hey angel, everything’s gonna be okay. i’m okay, we’re okay.”

but again, he still wasn’t here.

gojo mentioned to you before he left last night around midnight he had to ‘take care of something’ — his code word of he’s about to go into battle or fight, but he didn’t want you to worry about him.

that’s the very last thing he wanted. and if anything, he always assured you he’d be okay. even if he was beaten to a pulp by his enemies, he’d always return back home to you with that stupid lovable grin on his face.

so what made christmas day any different?

you swallowed the thick, nonexistent lump in your throat, trying to snap out of your deep melancholy thoughts. dragging your feet,

you rubbed your eyes from the sun just barely shinning through the curtains scattered throughout the house.

with a soft sigh, you made your way towards the christmas tree — the pretty lengthy tree the both of you decorated together last minute, a tiny smile went on your face at remembering how gojo kept accidentally breaking all of the ornaments, so he had to constantly keep buying new ones.

lights, glimmery multicolored lights, a plethora of ornaments and a pretty sheeny star sits at the very top. you sat on your knees, before glancing down at the various presents — one caught your eye, it was a tiny box. a velvet heart shaped box, and gojo told you it was the biggest surprise yet.

you paused, glancing down at your phone that was about it to die soon, wondering why gojo still hasn’t returned any of your calls.

he’s been gone for hours, and the knot in your stomach continued to tighten—it felt like something inside of you was squeezing, tugging you from the inside.

was this what a gut feeling feels like? something was telling you, screaming at you that something wasn’t right.

with shaky hands, you went to his contact for what seems like the millionth time, staring at the image that was his picture, him and you.

the both of you were being goofy, it was a old polaroid picture a few years ago of the both of you during your birthday.

he spoiled you so much that day, but as always he never forgot to repeat how much he loved you.

the phone rang three times and your mind pretty much knew mentally he wasn’t gonna answer, it was a bit foolish for you to continuously keep trying. but something in you told yourself, it’s satoru. he’s gonna answer. anything to reassure yourself, this happens a lot — gojo’s the type of person who always has his phone on silent, or he says he’ll call you back but ends up forgetting.

after a few rings, the same automatic voicemail plays, and just hearing his voice again, no matter how many times — it never fails to make your heart swoon.

“hey heyy, it’s satoru. uh, you’ve reached the—eheh what does that lady say again…? you’ve reached the voicemail box of.. gojo satoru. leave a message after the beep, beeeeep. heh, bye.”

you intake a sharp breath, closing your eyes before bringing the warm phone up to your ear, pressing it against your cheek before speaking in a voice.

a voice you hardly recognized, “…toru?” and you were on the brink of tears, it was easy to hear and you tried not to let your emotions get the best of you but at this point..

was it really worth holding on to?

fifteen long seconds passed and you forgot the phone was still in your hand.

you sniffled, gathering yourself briefly before continuing in a soft drowsy voice, “h-hey, um. i don’t mean to blow your phone up but, you aren’t responding and i’m getting kind of scared. are you okay?”

you pause again, feeling the sting of tears nearly escape through your eyelids before you squeeze your eyes shut, lightly squeezing your left thigh to prevent any more emotions from revealing themselves.

“i um, just wanna say i love you, and i hope you’re okay. i didn’t wanna open my gifts until you got here but you’re taking forever..”

and you manage to crack a tiny smile that purses against your lips—yet after a while, it fades and your heart feels like it’s just walking on egg shells. “but anyway, yeah. i love you satoru, text or call me back so i know you’re alright, please? and just get home safe okay? bye.”

you hung up the phone and a single tear ran down your cheek.

so much time had passed, and he still wasn’t here. it was nearly seven in the morning now, and your dumb curiosity got the best of you—you wondered what gojo’s big surprise gift was.

he wanted you to wait to see your reaction, but you were just so curious, so enthused.

you started to peel the pretty striped velvet wrapping paper off, one at a time, it was neatly wrapped with a perfect red and blank bow tied on the top.

once you opened it, it had a tiny black box, and your eyebrows raised, a note sticking out the side. grabbing it, you revealed it and it read in neat handwriting:

“hi baby!! merry merry christmas, i’m kinda tearing up while writing this, and i know i know you probably just wanna see the gift but first read this ‘kay? just wanna say i love love you so much, and i’m so glad we’ve been together for almost four years now. you mean everything to me, you’re so sweet and kind, always there whenever i need to talk my feelings out, or even if i just need to lay on you and fall asleep. but anywho, you know who loves you? this guy! hopefully i made you smile as you read this, im probably not at home yet but ill be back soon. don’t worry your pretty little head, alright? i love you baby, merry christmas from your honored one, xoxo.”

tears were in your eyes—and it was like you could hear him, he was right, you did manage to smile. sniffling, you placed the note aside before opening the small black box.

once you pulled the top back, your eyes widened, seeing a small coruscating ring. your heart sang, blinking twice to make sure your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you.

gojo was planning to propose..?

the ring was so pretty.

various scattered crushed up like pearls around the top, and once the tears started, they kept streaming down your face. you quickly pulled it out, sliding it on your ring finger and it was a perfect fit — in a frail sob, you mumble, “y-yes, i’ll marry you satoru.”

yet — that’s when you wake up, finally snapping back to reality. confused with tears still streaming down your face, burning.

“satoru?”

no answer.

you get up from the bed, your eyes widen before you look at your right hand — and the engagement ring was still there. a sigh of relief exits your mouth, and that’s when you make your way towards the kitchen.

nothing to worry about, maybe you just fell asleep while opening the gift. yeah, that had to be it.

although, the atmosphere of your house felt different. taking a quick glance in the living room, the christmas tree wasn’t there anymore, it wasn’t snowing, and it was almost as if you lived by yourself.

“satoru?” you called out again, before pulling out your phone — scrolling towards your messages and your heart suddenly sank. the last message you sent him was two years ago, a subtle ‘satoru, it’s christmas and you’re still not here? are you okay?’

christmas…?

you pulled a tab down on your phone — and the date read march 17th. approximately two years later from when you last sent that message, and you were so confused.

but the further you scrolled down, you saw messages from others, sending you their regards and condolences for your loss….loss?

the recent message was from geto — and your last reply was, ‘thank you, i’m doing okay. i just still can’t believe he’s gone.”

. . .

you felt sick — tear after tear racing down both sides of your face before coming to the sudden unfathomable realization.

gojo never came back home for one reason and one reason only. he died a painful death those long two years ago, even though he swore he’d come back to you on christmas.

perhaps everything was all a lie.

sometimes people don’t win all the time, not even the honored one, the love of your life, gojo satoru.

[agustdtown1]

FREE USE | JJK (hcs)

PAIRING: roommate!jungkook x roommate!fem!reader.

SUMMARY: headcanons of what it’d be like to let jungkook use you as much as he pleased.

WC: 1.2k

WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol consumption, free use dynamics, friends/roommates with benefits, unprotected sex, masturbation, mentions of oral sex (male receiving), fucking while doing mundane things, reader and jungkook are very laid back in this one. Grammar mistakes as per usual.

A/N: idk where I was going with this, but I liked the idea so here it is, enjoy!

Masterlist

Your arrangement started as a simple roommates with benefits type of thing.

It sort of naturally happened.

After a long day of working at your nine to five job and Jungkook dealing with some unnecessary family drama, both of you were at your limit.

You two were in need of some good release.

At the time, alcohol looked like the better option. The best remedy for your miserable day; perfect to leave behind all your concerns and numb your mind for a few hours, until you wake up the next day with an unbearable headache.

Neither of you anticipated that what started as a peaceful drinking session, would end up with both of you fucking desperately to the point of almost breaking the sofa.

After Jungkook finally got a taste of you, however, it became an impossible task to keep his distance with you; despite both of you agreeing to that night being just a one-time thing, and never doing anything like that again.

And so his long nights of jacking off to the thought of you started.

Jungkook would make sure that you were peacefully sleeping before pulling his sweats down, slightly teasing himself by feeling his cock through his underwear.

It was so painfully hard and already leaking.

When his own teasing was too much to bear, Jungkook would pull down the last piece of clothing preventing him from feeling his fingers wrapped around his cock.

He’d start at a slow pace, taking his sweet time to build up his release. He knew the best way to tip himself over the edge, but it seemed like after your one night together nothing could make him cum. His avid fingers weren’t so avid on himself anymore. It didn’t give him the same sentiment that you did. His hand was significantly bigger than yours, on top of being rough and calloused due to all the weightlifting he did on the daily.

Jungkook could notice the stark contrast between you and himself.

He remembers so vividly the way your fingers wrapped around his base, squeezing lightly, before you started to pump his dick at a painfully slow pace. He didn’t mind at the time, but in the darkness and loneliness of his room, Jungkook could only beg for his hand to go faster. However, it wasn’t enough. And that’s how the mental image —the memory of your soft lips kissing his tip came to the very front of his mind. It was hard to forget it; the way your tongue wrapped around his dick, the way you swallowed all of him in one go, just to show him that he could be rougher with you, that it was okay for Jungkook to lose all his self control and fuck your throat only like he knew.

Sadly, those nights filled with the most filthy sounds and moans had to stay a secret for a few more weeks.

Before the unthinkable happened.

Truth be told, you were just as needy of Jungkook as he was of you. And maybe that’s the reason you didn’t think too much before suggesting that crazy idea to him.

“So… Friends with benefits?” His question sounded a bit unsure. “Well, should I say roommates with benefits?” You nodded, agreeing while taking a sip of your coffee. “Yeah, if that’s what you wanna call it. I don’t really care about the name, as long as we’re both on the same page and understand what all of this actually is.”

It was so pathetic how fast Jungkook wanted to agree and say yes to whatever deal you had for him, as long as that meant he could have you all the time he wanted.

And so, it became a recurrent occurrence to be found in the sheets of the one and only Jeon Jungkook whenever life became too stressful.

Surprisingly, the guy learned to read your body in a matter of a few days. His rough hands knew what path to follow; how soft or hard the touch of his fingers had to be to get the exact reaction he needed from you. His warm lips always found that perfect spot on your neck that would steal the sweetest of sounds from your mouth. And his dick would always move just the right way to make you see starts.

But no matter how much of your body you would give to Jungkook during the hardest of days, he would always crave more.

And that’s exactly how you found yourself in the current predicament you were in.

Your hands were acting clumsy due to Jungkook’s hard thrusts. The pencil placed in between your fingers was shaking so badly, and your handwriting was so illegible that not even someone with their 20-20 vision could understand what you wrote.

“Slow down a bit, it’s difficult to write while getting fucked.”

“Sorry, sweetheart.”

His pace was turned down a few notches, but it only served to feel him inside you ten times deeper.

You see, your initial arrangement got to the point of fucking at any moment, anywhere, any day. No matter what either of you were doing, if it was important or not, if you had time or were in a hurry; if your bodies were ready for it or got taken by surprise. It became normal for the both of you to use each other at any given moment.

Just like right now, you could be having a peaceful moment studying, cooking or even watching a movie and Jungkook would simply slide down whatever clothes you were wearing and slip inside, enjoying the warmth of your velvety walls.

You got so used to it that you no longer were surprised by his sudden actions. And just like you did, Jungkook also got used to your impromptu appearance in his room when he was playing video games with his friends, watching a movie, or even just listening to music.

There was one time when he was on the phone with his brother and you easily walked in his room, pulled down his pants and started to suck the life out of him. Surprisingly, Jungkook did good in suppressing his moans while speaking to his brother.

There were other times when he would be reading a manga on the couch, and without previous warning you would get on top of him and ride his cock as if it was your last wish. Even maintaining a conversation while fucking was the usual for you both.

“What are you reading?” Your airy voice rang through Jungkook’s ears, making him look up from the manga placed on his hands, before continuing reading. “Jujutsu Kaisen, the one I told you about the other day.”

“Is it the one with that Gojo guy?” Your movements got messier and faster, desperately trying to reach your high. “Is it— fuck, is it any good?”

“Mhm, it became one of my favorites.” He answered, but even if Jungkook tried to keep his voice steady you could tell he was getting there. “You should read it. I have a feeling you’d— fuck, just like that... I have a feeling you’d like it.” You nodded, not really finding your voice to answer due to your rapidly approaching orgasm. It was a matter of a few more thrusts before you were coming undone on top of him.

At any moment, any minute, any day and most importantly anywhere. That’s how it would usually go for you two.

Both of you fell into the routine so easily and neither were ready to let go of it anytime soon.

[slut4thebroken]

Giddy

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Stepdad!Cillian Murphy x reader

Summary | You had a dream and couldn’t hold back anymore, so you made it come true.

Warnings | Smut, con to non con, somno, forced breeding, pseudo incest, dry humping, kissing, pregnancy kink, riding, missionary, ionno lol.

Words | 1k

Notes | Idk I edited this like once :/

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

Kinktober | day 27: forced breeding

You crept into his room quietly, then crawled onto the bed and straddled his legs. With only two pairs of underwear separating your bodies, you started grinding on him, keeping your movements slow and steady so you didn’t wake him yet. You could already feel his cock fattening up underneath you, making it easier for you to grind against him. After a little bit of that, you slipped your panties off your body, now only wearing a shirt, then resumed rocking your hips. 

Once he was hard enough, you gently took his cock out of his underwear and flattened it against his stomach to continue grinding on it. With his cock between your folds, your arousal was smearing over his length, making it glisten in the dim lighting. Cillian shifted a little and let out a soft sound, but other than that, he remained fast asleep. 

Since you were touching yourself before you came in here, you only really managed to last a couple more minutes before you got too needy. So, using one hand to cover your mouth and the other to line his cock up with your hole, you slowly sank down on him, letting out a muffled moan. He was always so fucking thick you could barely take it, but that only made you even needier every time… You loved the way it felt when he stretched you open, forced you to feel every single inch making its way inside your tight little cunt. 

You stayed seated on him for a moment, not moving as you caught your breath and adjusted to the stretch. His brows were scrunched together now, but he still didn’t wake up. When you started circling your hips, he let out a soft groan, making you smirk. 

Not caring about staying quiet anymore, you placed both hands on his chest and started gently bouncing up and down on his cock. His eyes finally began fluttering open and he shifted under you, confused about what was happening right now. 

“Fuck— fuck, baby…” He rasped, voice laced with sleepiness. Even though his hands moved to your hips, you didn’t stop moving. 

“Needed you, daddy…” You smiled, enjoying how fucked out he already looked while he struggled to wake up quickly. 

“Baby, I have work tomorrow.” He protested weakly. You would’ve faltered if it weren’t for him tightening his grip on your hips to start guiding your movements. You didn’t bother with a response, too focused on the pleasure of riding him. He was letting out soft grunts and moans that added to the symphony of depravity from your own sounds of pleasure, as well as the wet squelch of his cock sliding in and out of your soaked pussy.

After a little bit, he finally was becoming more awake— which also meant more dominant. When he suddenly flipped both of you over, you landed on the mattress with a soft grunt, then let out a quiet giggle at his eagerness. 

Cillian started pounding you, still not going as hard or fast as he normally would since he was deep asleep barely five minutes ago… But it still felt amazing. 

Truthfully, the reason you came in here was because of a wet dream you just had. You tried to rub on a pillow like he taught you, but you just couldn’t get the image out of your head— your stepdad coming inside you, filling you up, fucking his baby into your belly… Even thinking about it now was making your pussy gush around his cock. 

“Fuck— oh fuck, I’m gonna come.” He choked out, bucking into you even faster now. His eyes were squeezed shut and his lips parted in a silent moan. He looked almost angelic with the moonlight from the windows casting a glow on the side of his face… You couldn’t wait to be pregnant with his baby— your belly getting all big and round, your tits swelling with milk… You could finally be his completely. The only other thing that could even come close to solidifying his ownership over you and your dedication to him was a ring.

As his sounds got louder, you suddenly wrapped your legs around his hips and locked your ankles together, making his eyes snap open. 

“Baby, stop. I’m already close— Let go.” He ordered breathlessly. 

“Come, daddy.” You said sweetly, ignoring him.  

“No— fuck… Sweetheart, please let go.” He begged. He could’ve stopped moving his hips to bring himself back down from the edge… but he didn’t. He kept fucking you.. with nowhere else to go. 

“Just come.” You giggled at his struggling. 

“Let me pull out— Baby, let me pull out please.” He whined, his brows scrunching together as he tried to hold it— but he still never stopped thrusting. “Stop… I- I can’t...” You could tell he was seconds away from giving you what you wanted, so you clamped down on his cock, forcing a strangled moan out of him. “Please let me pull out— I can’t come in you, angel.” He whimpered weakly. 

His breathing picked up, getting faster and faster, until he let out a strained moan and buried his face in the crook of your neck. His hips stopped moving, but you pulled him firmly against you with your feet, keeping him buried deep. He whined and groaned as you milked his cock, occasionally bucking into you as his length pulsed and twitched with each rope of come that was landing on your cervix. After another moment— longer than his usual orgasms, you noticed— his body finally relaxed as he panted, trying to calm down. 

“Baby, what did you do?” He whined breathlessly, making you smile. You were finally his. Not that you weren’t before, but now you belonged to him even more. “You can’t— You’re too young… I’m going to have to get you something to take and hopefully you won’t even need to go to the doctor,” You pulled his head away from your shoulder by his hair and cut off his rambling with a kiss. Once he let out a heavy breath through his nose and relaxed into the kiss, you pulled back. 

“I love you, daddy.” Was all you said, making him shake his head in disbelief. “Now I’m yours forever.” You added with a shy smile and a faint blush. The best part was that he really couldn’t force you to get rid of it… So he could be as coy as he wanted, but you’d still get your way no matter what. The thought was already making you giddy. 

[blniight]

alright, been thinking alot and one thought crossed my mind. a yunho one shot. this came at work idk how, don't ask i'm sick in the head.

you're married (not to yunho) BUT you've had a rough marriage with your husband lately & one night you decided to go out with your friends. you got drunk, had too many shots of tequila. dancing alone at the dance floor blah blah.

you met yunho that night, he approached slowly and you started talking.

ever since that night, you and yunho have been texting back and forth. you never told him abt your marriage, you don't even wear the ring.

SURPRISE ME OMFG

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞 | jeong yunho .ᐟ

☆ ᴀᴛᴇᴇᴢ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

☆ ᴊᴇᴏɴɢ ʏᴜɴʜᴏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

꩜ synopsis .ᐟ — picture perfect marriage downfall caused by the undeniably hot golden man

꩜ content .ᐟ — mature content | non-idol!yunho | cheater!reader | husband!hongjoong | lots of overthinking | bad decisions ( or were they? ) |

꩜ warnings .ᐟ — smut, MDNI 18+ | drunk sex | slight dirty talking | affair | unprotected sex ( pls do not yall ! ) | very long ( sorry )

꩜ author’s note .ᐟ — i’ve been pretty unactive here and it’s supposed to be my beginning on tumblr so i’m truly sorry for that, but anyway here i am almost two months later and i’m back to the requests. i hope you enjoy the story ahead and that it suits your wish!

꩜ the characters and events in the story are all fictional except for the k-idols taken to fill in the imaginary role of a main character. nothing in my works is an attempt for sexualization nor it’s a hate towards anyone. please keep in mind everything is fiction and the way idols act is not presenting their actual picture nor i want to ruin their image to the society. if you’re staying up for reading. i hope you enjoy. don’t forget to like, reblog and leave a comment. it means a lot. thank you. .ᐟ

Marrying a wealthy man, with his future clearly painted out across the golden canvas. The one who graduated from an elite college and who’s name people in the city say with the brightest smile was definitely a plan your parents had for you.

And weren’t you just the luckiest girl in the world for finding that perfect love in the third year of college, a love many of your friends could only dream of having, saying that soulmates only exist because you and he are together.

Kim Hongjoong was exactly that man — the one who fits next to you.

Blinded by the young heat of love, not caring how many more tomorrows were ahead, being the couple the whole campus was gossiping about.

Hongjoong was every girl’s dream — a full green forest, they’d say. Women were naturally attracted to him by his good and neat-boy character.

A little bit nerdy, head always in the book but his little breaks during lessions were all about you.

You didn’t think you’d get this happy with choosing a man like Hongjoong, considering your previous choice in the opposite sex.

Soon after graduating, both of you got promised to a life together in front of the altar, reciting the vows and saying “I do.”

Ever since then, it was all like a fairytale. Days and nights spent with the man of your dreams.

Five years into the marriage passed in the blink of an eye, but just as everything seemed to be milk and honey to the freshly married — it turned out the milk was closer to expiring.

You had always admired Hongjoong’s passion for work and improvement in all stages life brought him but it’s just wasn’t healthy.

He was a workacholic. The insane kind of one.

Obsessed with the every single detail that happened in his company. He was always the first one to accept the call, grab his coat and rush out of the house without a second glance at you.

The sheets of your shared bedroom often cold, the mornings and nights turned into an endless routine of waking up and falling asleep alone.

You were quite understanding of his actions, as being your own boss is truly a lot of work for the man who somehow manages it all alone. But it seemed like work was the only thing on his mind, even when catching a dinner with you on a quiet Sunday when he could spare those 20 minutes away from the office.

For some time now you had been offering Hongjoong help and get a job in the company as well, but he would quickly dismiss you, saying how he got it all handled and that you should take care of yourself and rest.

Of course, as frustrating as it sounded, you were grateful. Hongjoong’s money was keeping you food on the table and whatever you wanted it was delivered to you in a seconds. He tried his best to redeem himself and soon enough your closet was full of many dresses, necklaces and shoes he used to buy whenever he would stay late at work.

It was always delivered to you by the postman and at the beginning, this gesture of his made you happy, showing that he still cared about you and that he was just busy. But now the feeling was worn off, just like every piece of clothing he got you by now.

You realized that you craved attention, love and your husband’s touch and it’s something you weren’t getting at all from Hongjoong.

Your friends would often tease you, saying how Hongjoong must be a perfect husband during the day and that he probably satisfied all your needs during the night.

Hongjoong was, in fact, good in bed, from what you experienced with him by now. People would think that being married for five years means you two couldn’t keep your hands away from each other but it was quite the opposite. You can’t remember the last time you had sex with Hongjoong. Was it last month? Or last year?

Your body was feeling the pressure of being sexually frustrated, especially during ovulation and Hongjoong was usually never in sight.

It’s embarrassing to remember how many times you needed to pleasure yourself just to be able to sleep at night alone in the bed. It was without any thoughts, not even about your husband, just a quick chance of getting some relief even if it was never enough.

Of course seducing him at some point was in your thoughts but it always led to the words of “I’m busy now Y/N” or “I’m tired”.

Today was also a day in this routine of marriage with Hongjoong. He wasn’t home and yet another night alone was ahead of you, until your friend group decided it would be awesome to get together and grab some drinks outside.

And this was exactly what you needed — to get out of this house and have a little bit of fun without the emptiness of the room hugging you.

Getting dressed, you picked the last dress Hongjoong had bought for you. It was the short black one, that reached your mid-thigh, with tiny sparkles all around it.

A slight touch of a smokey eye make-up with a little bit of redness on your lips that made you look elegant. Your hair reached just above your breasts and for this occasion you had it up in a nicely shaped bun with a few strands falling messily yet gracefully on your face.

By the time you got ready, your friend group arrived outside your door. Grabbing the small leather purse with your phone, you escaped the boredom behind you into the black BMW your closest friend, Haerin, owned.

“ So where are we going? “ — you questioned, putting on your seatbealt.

“ To a club downtown. “ — the brunette from the backseat responded, making your head turn to look at her.

“ Why didn’t you tell me it was a club? Do I look too elegant for it now? “ — slight anxiety rose up on your spine.

“ Girl, are you for real now? I would absolutely bang you right here on this backseat if I were a lesbian. But I have to say you’re kinda making me rethink my sexuality now. “ — Eunchae, the blonde next to the brunette replied.

“ I’m telling this to Wooyoung. “ — Jiyong, the brunette replied, about to jokingly take out her phone and call Wooyoung — Eunchae’s boyfriend.

You admired them honestly. Wooyoung was the man Eunchae met while working at the cafe back in her college days. He kept on getting the same thing every morning and once when paying for the drink — he slipped in the note saying how beautiful she was and that he would like to get her number, which she gladly gave him.

Even though ending up in his bed on the night of their first date wasn’t how the relationships should go, it was just right with them, in their own way, both matching each other’s energies to the point of perfection.

Jiyong was the only one single in the friend group, with a mindset of a high school girl, still having one night stands and not looking for any serious relationship yet, following with “The night is still young, so am I.”

Haerin, in the driver’s seat, had been married once, then divorced from a man she couldn’t see the future with anymore.

Choi Jongho, was it? You couldn’t really remember, but you do remember her saying that they stayed in touch since they both had financial sharings together.

And yet, somehow, you felt that you were the only one in the group with the worst case of a marriage there is.

Haerin parked the car not far away from the club and you all reached the front door in a few steps.

“ Oh, you weren’t joking this is literally a club. “

“ Should’ve gone to a strip club instead. “ — Eunchae commented once you got inside.

The darkness, hyped atmosphere, colorful lights barely shining through the smoke cloud that made your eyes burn a little, it was all what described this place you’d stepped into.

Jiyong got you a table in the very corner of the room, making sure you had the entire club in clear view.

Ordering the first drinks, you started off strong, with tequila shots.

“ To the girls night! “ — Haerin made a toast as the tequila burned down your throat mixed with the salty taste on the tongue.

Thirty minutes in, so many glasses of tequila had been taken and brought back to your table. The conversation between you started as a gossip session but turned into aimless words and silly laughter. The alcohol was strongly getting to your senses, but knowing your friends, this was only the beginning.

Eunchae kept the tequila coming until Jiyong deciced that you’re done with the appetizers, switching to the Red Label whiskey.

“ Oh my God, Hae, that handsome guy is totally checking you out! “ — Jiyong squealed, shaking Haerin’s form while she tried to gulp down yet another whiskey.

“ What are you talking about? “ — totally confused, Haerin drunkenly searched the crowd until Jiyong grabbed her cheeks, turning her head toward the table across from yours.

There sat four men, and the one who had taken an interest in Haerin had platinum silver hair that fell perfectly over his Aphrodite-like features.

“ Oh fuck, he’s really looking. “ — Haerin giggled, taking another glass of whiskey, her cheeks blushing.

“ Go fucking get him! “ — Eunchae stole the glass from her hands.

“ No, no… I really shouldn’t get involved with another man so quickly. “ — Haerin said, but her eyes never left the silver-haired boy until he suddenly stood up and walked over towards you.

“ Shit he’s coming… “ — Haerin panicked for a moment, trying to act natural but her drunken state was not cooperating with her.

“ Hello ladies! “ — the deep voice echoed. “ What are you drinking? “

“ Ohh, and why would you be interested? “ — Eunchae teased the figure that patiently stood in front of your table.

“ I want to make a deal and buy you pretty ladies a drink as long as you’re willing to give me this little angel here for a dance. “ — He said, smirking as his eyes fell on Haerin.

“ Oh my God, just take her already! “ — Jiyong said, pushing Haerin foward.

“ Thank you, all your drinks are on me now. “ — He said, taking Haerin by the hand, pulling her towards the dance floor.

“ I want to dance now too. “ — Jiyong pouted.

“ Then let’s fucking go? “ — Eunchae exclaimed.

“ I’m going to get some water first. I feel my head pounding already. “ — you said, standing up carefully as you made your way towards the bartender.

“ Hi, can I order one glass of water please? “

“ I fear there is no alcohol in that. “ — an unfamiliar voice said from your left side.

You turned your head to look at the boy who was sitting on one of the bar stools, a shot of what seemed to be whiskey in his right hand.

His eyes droopy, ears slightly red, indicating that he’s already drunk enough. Dirty blonde hair styled nicely with wet bangs covering his sweaty forehead. He was dressed in a white shirt, sleeves rolled up in what seemed to be an attempt to do so. Three buttons undone, showing off his milky skin and collarbones underneath. A small simple chain around his neck with a silver cross symbol.

He looked like he came neither out of the dance floor or the heavy make-out session from the bathroom.

“ I’ve already had enough of it. “ — you said, a smile planted on your lips.

“ Being in a place like this means the word ‘enough’ doesn’t really apply. “ — He replied. “ You know you can always get another glass of alcohol, it has the right amount of water inside it too. “

You rolled your eyes playfully, the smile still on your lips hearing his choice of words.

“ Wisely said. “

The bartender brought you a glass of cold clear water and the man sitting next to you turned to speak to him.

“ Two more glasses. “ — he said, pointing at the, now empty, whiskey glass beside him.

You looked at him while with wide eyes, surprised that he ordered one glass for you too.

“ It would be a shame if I didn’t order you a drink now. That wouldn’t be very gentleman of me. “ — he said, a small smirk forming at the corner of his lips.

“ Well thank you, that’s very gentlemanly of you…? “ — you trailed off waiting to hear him say his name, realizing he hadn’t introduced himself yet.

“ Yunho. “

Yunho. The name suited him. Like some kind of golden retriever, wanting to be petted, his droopy eyes and drunken movements made you want to embrace him in your arms. His aura was definitely dangerous and that’s what seemed to trigger you, drawing you closer to him more than you would have wanted to.

“ I’m Y/N. “

“ Well Y/N, cheers to us meeting each other. “ — Yunho said, pushing the new welcomed glass of whiskey in front of him towards you.

You tried not to grin like an idiot, so a sly smile decorated your features as your glass clicked with his and both of you emptied its contents, the whiskey burning all the way down to your stomach.

The conversation with Yunho continued naturally — or, it was probably the after effect of all the alcohol you both had during the talk.

You definitely weren’t the same person who had walked through the club doors by now. Eyes half-lidded, drunk smile to whatever Yunho was saying with occasionally playfully punching his shoulder.

After taking one more sip of the golden whiskey from the glass, Yunho looked up at you, offering his hand.

“ Do you want to dance? “

You nodded without even looking at him, immediately placing your hand in his as he guided you through the crowd of chaotic people to the middle of the flashing darkness of the club.

The music was too loud for you to even talk to him now. Your body, consumed by the alcohol, swayed in it’s own way with every step closer to Yunho, who was following your movements.

You let your hair fall down from your bun, leaving it messily to cover your shoulders.

His eyes never left you, even in the flickering lights, the smoke cloud — his dark eyes were creating holes all over your body and face, admiring your every breath. If he could he would take a picture of you like this with his own eyes.

You found yourself pressed against him in a way that wasn’t appropriate for a married woman, but your mind was drowning itself in the euphoria of the moment.

Yunho’s hands slowly creeped around your waist, keeping you close to him.

Sweat was forming on your neck and forehead. The close proximity was doing nothing to settle the flames in your body.

You reached for your hair, gathering it and moving it to the side, letting your neck breathe for a moment — but Yunho seized the opportunity, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder that made you shiver in his arms.

“ You’re so beautiful. “ — the breathy voice spoke in your ear.

Your eyes closed for a moment as you drunkenly giggled at his words.

“ Is that why you kissed my shoulder? You think it’s beautiful? “ — you laughed.

The question didn’t really make any sense but does this all even make sense to you anymore?

“ Yeah… “ — Yunho chuckled behind you. “ Maybe I need to kiss every part of your body. Because it’s beautiful as well. “

His deep voice rang in your ears, despite the loud music. Your stomach coiled tight, not just from the alcohol but from something more dangerous—something you weren’t supposed to feel.

You should pull away. The rational part of your mind screamed at you, reminding you of the vows you took, the man waiting — or rather, not waiting— at home. But then there was this other part of you, the one that had been buried for years under loneliness and cold sheets, the one that ached for touch, for heat, for something that felt real.

Your silence was enough of an answer for Yunho. His fingers pressed a little firmer against your waist, drawing you back against his chest. Your breath caught in your throat as his lips brushed against your exposed shoulder again, slower this time, more deliberate.

A quiet sigh left your lips before you could stop it. Your head tilted slightly to the side, granting him more access, and Yunho took the invitation without hesitation. His lips trailed along the curve of your neck, his breath warm against your skin.

This isn’t right at all, but why does it make you feel so good?

“ Tell me to stop. “ — Yunho murmured, his voice thick with something dark, something teasing. “ Tell me you don’t want this, and I will. “

You should. God, you should.

But the thoughts of his soft pink lips all over your body, your sweaty, naked bodies pressed against each other, his tender fingers exploring every inch of your skin are what keeps you insane in your head.

“ Don’t stop… “ — you whispered, barely audible over the pounding music.

Yunho let out a soft curse under his breath, his lips grazing just beneath your jaw before trailing lower. His hands slid down, gripping your hips as he guided your movements with his own, grinding your bodies together. Your back arched, your ass grinding against him.

The friction was already too much for him to handle, his uneven breaths, sweat dripping on his forehead and droopy drunk eyes decorating his features.

You felt his hardness pressing into you, the feeling making you chuckle as your eyes closed enjoying the atmosphere.

“ Fuck. “ — he breathed against your neck, his voice strained, full of restraint he was barely holding onto. “ You have no idea what you’re doing to me. “

You did. Oh, you definitely did. And you liked it.

The warmth of his mouth sent a shiver down your spine, and your fingers instinctively curled around his wrists, keeping his hands exactly where they were — on you.

“ You’re playing a dangerous game. “ — he murmured, his lips ghosting over your jawline now.

“ So are you. “ — you countered, voice softer, teasing.

He let out a breathless chuckle, shaking his head slightly. “ Yeah… but I don’t think I care anymore. “

Neither did you.

His touch was fire against your skin, his palm pressing possessively as he whispered. “ Let me take you somewhere quieter. “

It wasn’t a question.

And you didn’t hesitate.

With a slow, deliberate turn, you finally faced him, your noses nearly touching. His pupils were blown, lips parted, waiting — for you, for your answer.

You licked your lips, fingers reaching up to play with the collar of his half-unbuttoned shirt before gripping the fabric, tugging him just a little closer.

“ Lead the way. “ — you murmured.

Yunho didn’t waste another second.

The club was a blur of flashing lights and pulsing bass, the heat of the dance floor fading as he led you toward the back, where a set of sleek, black stairs spiraled upward into dimly lit exclusivity.

Your steps faltered for just a moment, a flicker of hesitation tightening in your chest.

“ Where are we? “

Yunho turned back, his dark, hooded eyes locking onto yours as he smirked. “ Private lounge. “ — he explained, nodding toward the security guard at the base of the stairs. “ Owner’s a friend. “

A friend. Right. You didn’t need to question further. Places like this, high-end clubs with an air of indulgence, always had secret spaces—rooms meant for more than just drinking and talking.

Yunho led you toward the white polished wooden door at the end of the hallway. He pushed it open, revealing a space that was complete opposite of the chaos downstairs.

A low-lit room, a single king-sized bed dominating the center. The scent of leather and freshly washed sheets lingered in the air.

You swallowed, suddenly hyper-aware of the reality of this moment.

This wasn’t just some reckless dance on the club floor anymore.

This was real. This was happening. You were about to have sex with a stranger you met at the club.

You — a married woman.

But of course, at the moment we’re speaking, all the consequences of this left your mind along with your dignity.

Yunho turned to you, his gaze carefully reading your reaction. “ Say the word. “ — he murmured, voice thick. “ And I’ll walk you back downstairs. “

Was walking downstairs something you wanted now? Absolutely not. You were not going to chicken out drunk in front of a hell handsome man with an aching boner in his pants who was yearning for you, plus your legs were killing you in these heels.

Your fingers found the front of his shirt again, your fingers hooking slightly under it making his jaw clench.

“ Close the door. “ — you whispered.

Yunho cursed under his breath before reaching back, shoving the door shut and locking them.

Oh, you’re fucked.

You stepped forward, pressing your lips against his in a kiss that was all heat and hunger. Yunho groaned against your mouth, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you flush against him, your bodies fitting together lustfully perfect.

His lips left yours only to trail across your jaw, down your neck, pressing hot, open-mouthed kisses along your pulse. His teeth softly grazing your skin.

“ No marks, please… “ — you said breathlessly.

Yunho smirked against your neck, leaving a few more kisses that added the fuel to the already burning flames in your body.

“ As you wish, princess. “

His hands lifted your dress higher, sliding up your thighs, pushing the fabric over your hips. You gasped as his fingers pressed against the lace of your panties where you needed him the most.

“ You’re already so wet for me. “ — he murmured, his breath hot against your ear. His fingers moved slowly, teasing you through the thin fabric, sending shivers up your spine.

“ Yunho… “ — your whimpered, holding his shoulders like your life depended on them.

He hummed in response, his free hand slipping under your chin, tilting your face up toward him again. His lips hovered just above yours, teasing, taunting. “ You sure you want this, hm? “

Your heart pounded. Your body screamed for more, for everything.

“ Please… “ — you breathed. “ I want you. “

Yunho groaned, his restraint finally snapping. He grabbed your hips, guiding you backward until your knees hit the edge of the bed. You fell onto the mattress, your breath coming in short, desperate gasps as he followed, his weight pressing you down, anchoring you beneath him.

His lips were everywhere — your neck, your collarbone, the tops of your breasts as he pushed the straps of your dress down your shoulders, taking it off of you. His hands were rough, impatient, tugging fabric, exploring skin, lighting fire everywhere they touched.

Even in such a hurry blinded by the lust he took his time to worship every part of your almost naked body in front of him.

“ Fuck… You’re like a goddess. “

Your hands tugged slightly on his shirt, he quickly got the message, unbuttoning it completely and throwing it away.

I’m a goddess? Does he see himself?

Yunho’s body was picture perfect presented in front of your eyes. His shoulders wide just the right size, not too buff, not too slim — he was just perfect.

You sat up on the bed unclasping your black lacy bra, throwing it aside, immediately finding his belt.

“ Eager one, aren’t you? “ — Yunho teased, looking down at you.

“ Damn right I am. “ — You said, boldly, not even hidding the urge to have him all over you tonight in every possible way.

The touch deprivation inside of you brust out the moment Yunho touched you first.

Now all you could focus on was him, his body, his hands and his dick that was painfully hard and hidden beneath the pants you fastly tugged off of him.

Once his dick was out right in front of your face, you were definitely not disappointed by the size.

You wasted no time in taking it in your hand, stroking it a few times before your tongue ran over the anrgy tip, collecting the leaking pre-cum.

Yunho’s breathing was uneven, looking down at you playing with his cock, the sight itself could make him come right now, but he needed to calm down — he didn’t want the fun to be over yet.

You weren’t unexperienced on blowjobs, but it has been definitely awhile since you’d done one.

Attempting that with Hongjoong usually resulted in him dismissing you from the room, following with “Don’t you see I’m busy now?”

Yunho swore he saw stars the moment you took him inside your mouth. A few curses leaving his lips breathlessly as his hand found your hair, moving it away from your face into a ponytail.

“ God… You’re so good at this… “ — he said, a slight moan leaving his lips.

You hollowed your cheeks, bobbing your head at a steady pace, your core throbbing each time he let out a groan of satisfaction.

His hand at the back of your head, holding your hair, pushed you more into him until his tip hit the back of your throat making you gag.

Tears welled up in your eyes and you knew that by the end of this, you makeup would need to be fixed immediately.

“ Y-Yes… You’re doing so well princess. Just a little more, fuck. “

He took the control, guiding your head on him, pushing him impossibly more inside your mouth.

But he didn’t want to cum now, not yet, so before he could — he backed away from your mouth, sweat covering his forehead.

You breathed deeply, wiping your lips with the back of your hand, tears dripping down your cheeks.

His fingers raised your chin up so he could look at you.

“ So gorgeous. “

He tenderly wiped your tears with his thumb. You looking up at him like he was an angel from above, someone who would take care of you.

“ Turn around for me. “

Of course, you obeyed stupidly. Turning around slowly on all fours, your ass up in the air for him.

You felt the mattress shift as he moved behind you, his hands kneading the soft flesh of your ass before he ripped your panties, making you yelp.

“ Yunho! “

“ I’ll buy you a new ones, pretty. “ — he said, leaning over to plant a kiss on your ass cheek.

He spread you open, exposing just how wet you were for him. A sharp inhale came from above, followed by a deep, appreciative groan.

“ God, you’re dripping. “ — Yunho muttered, running his fingers through your slick folds, teasing but not giving you what you needed just yet.

You whined, pressing back against his touch. “ Please… I need you. Stop teasing. “

“ You sure you’re ready to take me? “ — he chuckled darkly, rubbing slow circles around your entrance, his other hand squeezing your hip to hold you in place. “ Impatient little thing. “ — he mused before finally pushing two fingers inside you.

Your moaned instantly, the stretch just enough to make your back arch. He worked you open, thrusting his fingers at a slow, torturous pace, curling them just right to make you clench around him.

“ Y-Yunho— “

“ I know baby, fuck you’re so tight for me. “

When he deemed you ready, he pulled his fingers out, making you whimper at the loss. You barely had time to catch your breath before you felt the blunt tip of his cock nudging at your entrance.

“ This might be your last chance to back out, pretty. “ — He said, his tip rubbing over your wetness.

“ Please Yunho… “ — you whined, impatient.

With one slow thrust, he pushed inside, stretching you open inch by inch. Your hands clenched the sheets, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp at how full he made you feel.

It caused you to feel the pain and pleasure at the same time.

Damn, it has been awhile.

“ Fuck, Y/N… “ — he gritted out, pausing to let you adjust, his fingers digging into your hips.

You pushed back slightly, needing more, and Yunho groaned at the way you clenched around him.

“ You’re gonna be the death of me. “ — he murmured before pulling out almost completely, then slamming back in, setting a deep, punishing rhythm that had you seeing stars.

“ F-Faster… Please Yunho… “

And he didn’t need to be told twice, he pushed himself deeper in a faster pace, making your face fall flat into the pillows as you nearly screamed his name.

The sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the dimly lit room, each thrust making your body jolt against the mattress.

You chanted his name like some kind of spell, your mind blurry as your body was floating from the pleasure, your fingers digging into the sheets, trying to ground yourself as his pace became relentless.

His hand slid down your spine before gripping the back of your neck, forcing your chest down while keeping your ass raised high for him. The new angle made his cock hit deeper, right against that spot that had you choking on a moan.

“ There it is. “ - he groaned, rolling his hips in a way that had your toes curling. “ You feel that, baby? “

You could only nod frantically, your body trembling from the intensity of it all. Your orgasm was building quickly and Yunho could tell by the way you desperately clenched on him.

“ You’re close, aren’t you pretty? “ — he groaned, his fingers sneaking between your legs to circle your clit. “ Wanna come all over my cock? “

“ Y-Yes. “ — you gasped, your thighs shaking. “ Please, I’m so close— “

Yunho smirked, his thrusts turning rougher, deeper, chasing both of your highs.

“ Come for me, baby. “ he rasped, his fingers pressing harder against your clit. “ Come all over me, come on. “

Your orgasm crashed over you in waves, your walls clenching around him as pleasure shot through every nerve in your body. You cried out his name, your body going completely rigid before melting beneath him.

“ Oh God— “ — Yunho groaned, his hips stuttering as your tightness sent him over the edge. He thrust into you a few more times before pulling out quickly, storking himself above you, spilling his release on your back with a guttural moan.

For a moment, the only sound in the room was your heavy breathing, both of you coming down from the high.

Your mind blank, your body fucked just the way it needed to be as you let yourself fall down on the bed.

Yunho stood up from the bed, opening the dark bathroom door at the very corner of the room, coming back with a paper roll, cleaning your back from the mess he made.

You rolled on your back staring at the ceiling as you tried to calm your breathing back to normal.

“ You okay? “ — Yunho asked, laying beside you, kissing your shoulder.

You nodded, eyes heavy to keep open. “ Yeah… more than okay. “

Yunho let out a satisfied hum, his fingers tracing lazy patterns on your skin as the warmth between you lingered. The room smelled of sweat and sex, but there was an undeniable comfort in the silence that followed.

You turned your head slightly to look at him. Even in the dim lighting, Yunho looked like he belonged here — with you, in this bed, in this moment. His chest rose and fell steadily, the aftershocks of pleasure still evident in the way his muscles twitched.

For a brief moment, reality began creeping back in. The weight of what you had just done settled over you like a thin veil, but you refused to let it suffocate you. You had spent so long feeling unwanted, untouched — aching for something you weren’t allowed to have. And now? Yunho had given it to you without hesitation.

You reached out, fingers grazing over his jawline. “ Thank you. “

He blinked, turning his head to meet your gaze. “ For what? “

“ For making me happy. “

Yunho chuckled. “ Anytime, pretty. “

You leaned in, pressing your lips softly to his. It wasn’t like the feverish kisses from before, desperate and urgent — it was slower, almost tender. Yunho responded just as gently, his fingers tightening around your waist like he was afraid you might slip away.

When you pulled back, his forehead rested against yours.

“ Stay. “ — he murmured, barely above a whisper.

You exhaled shakily, your fingers tightening against his skin. “ I don’t think I can. “

Yunho’s jaw clenched slightly, but he nodded, like he already expected that answer. “ Then let me hold you. Just for tonight. “

Your eyes burned, but you didn’t fight him as he pulled you into his arms, his warmth wrapping around you like a promise.

For now this was enough.

But you absolutely weren’t ready for what the morning ahead brought.

Once you woke up, your head was pounding like someone were hitting it with a hammer. You groaned, stretching across the bed, your body sore, muscles still tired and barely able to move on command.

You opened your eyes, slowly sitting up on the bed, looking around the room your brain didn’t remember as the usual one you would wake up in.

The memories from last night quickly filled the empty gaps in your head making your eyes widen in realization.

You cheated on Hongjoong.

With a complete stranger.

At the club.

You’re still at the club.

Alone.

Because the moment you looked around, bed was empty and no trace of the Yunho you met last night to be seen.

You would be lying if you didn’t feel your heart breaking in your chest because he left you all alone after last night like this. But, seriously, what were you expecting?

It was a one night stand and a bad decision made in a rush of lust and alcohol.

You’re still a married woman.

Your fingers went over your ring finger only to realize there wasn’t any ring on it anymore.

That’s when the panic shot through your whole body, and as it was on fire, you jumped up from the bed on your unsteady legs, frantically searching the messy sheets for the golden diamond ring — the only thing you had never taken off in the past five years.

Frustrated tears escaped your eyes as you continued searching all over the room for it only to be left disappointed.

It’s not possible that it could slip off from your finger — because it never had — it was made for you and your finger size only.

You decided to calm down, thinking that eventually it will pop up somewhere around. Maybe asking the club owner wouldn’t be a bad idea too — what if the cleaning staff found it somewhere on the dance floor?

You collected your stuff from the floor, realizing that your panties had been ripped by Yunho last night.

“Fuck.” — you cursed, hoping that the dress would cover anything inappropriate so you could go out.

Doing a random double take at the table that was by the door, you realized that your bag and jacket were right there, along with your phone.

Of course, it was left at the table you were with your friends at — but how did it end up here in the room?

Was it Yunho who brought it up while you were sleeping?

You rushed toward it, searching inside your coat and bag for the ring but still found nothing.

Grabbing your phone you sighed in relief that it turned on with only 10% of battery.

There were possibly hundreds of messages from your friends, and this would probably require a lot of explanations to cover up.

But what made your heart sink down to your feet were the two following messages that appeared on your screen.

Hongjoong : You’re not home? Where are you? I’m home 4:56am

Unknown number : Good morning pretty <3 I’m sure you’ve found all your stuff by now and if you’re still searching for your ring I think you should find me first ;) Yunho 8:33am

Fucked indeed.

[measuredingold]

coeur d'alene

authors note: i was a minute late posting on the 31st, but i'm still counting this as my noah day present to you all :) here’s part two of heaven sent, and i hope you all enjoy it. it took a long time for me to finish this and idk how i really feel but, i think it’s sweet LOL feedback is always appreciated :)

pairing: noah sebastian x reader

divider: @saradika-graphics

cross-posted on ao3 / part one

word count: 4.1k

cw/tw: friends to lovers, realization of ~feelings~, fluff, ~kissing~, angst, miscommunication trope at its finest, lots of tension, noah is still very much a sweetheart, 18+ minors do not interact

You wake slowly the next morning, the soft light of the sun flooding into your room. You blink once, twice, three times before groaning softly, squeezing your eyes shut to keep out the light. It was bright - way too bright for your poor eyes and your sleepy brain. It takes you a second to come to, flopping onto your back as you rubbed at your eyes. You groaned, arms flopping down beside you, and your brain finally caught up to the realization that you were alone.

Alone. In your bed. That you originally weren’t alone in.

You turn your head to where Noah had once laid beside you and your heart drops to your stomach. The sheets weren't warm, but they weren't cold. If he had left, it was probably in the last 30 minutes or so. 

You try to control your rapidly beating heart, telling yourself he probably went to shower or that he's in the kitchen making breakfast. Your ears strain to try and see if you can hear the running water of the shower, or maybe the playlist he loves to blare when he cooks, but you hear nothing. Your heart rate quickens again, and you reach over to your bedside table to grab your phone. Maybe he sent a text.

You sift through your notifications, hoping to find one from Noah with any indication where he ran off to, but find nothing from him. You go to your guys text thread, heart twisting beneath your chest when the last text was from him a few days prior. 

Fuck.

You sink back into your bed, trying to blink away the burning feeling in your eyes as you stare up at the ceiling. 

He left. Without a word. Didn't even bother waking you up to tell you, just slipped out of your room without a goodbye. Something swirls inside of you, building up in the base of your throat but you swallow it back down.

You should've expected it, you think. He was probably freaked out from the reality of the situation. Seriously, who can sleep with their bestfriend and be normal after? You slap your hand onto your forehead, mentally cursing yourself as your eyes begin to burn more. This time you don't blink away the tears, allowing them to slide down your face freely.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. You should have never fucking asked. How could you do this? 

The one relationship in your life that you cherished more than anything down the fucking drain because you... wanted to stop feeling so behind? You could have slept with anyone. Anyone in the world and yet you chose Noah. Your heart twists beneath your chest at just the thought of your friend and you don't stop the quiet sob that slips from your lips, hands coming up to cover your face.

How can you face him after this? Wherever he went off to, he'll have to come back. Because he lives here. In the same apartment. With you. God, how could you be so fucking stupid?

You let yourself cry, rolling over onto your bed to bury your face into your pillow. Your entire body freezes when you realize it was the pillow Noah had used the night prior, and it still smelled like him. More tears fell at that, your stomach twisting so violently that it made you feel physically ill. Your sobs grew, arms circling around the pillow to pull it closer to you, face pressing so hard into the fabric of the pillow case that it almost hurt.

Your mind is racing, images of last night running through your head and it only makes you feel worse. It was almost everything you could've ever wanted, everything you pictured out of your first time. You never felt so cared for in your life, and the way Noah was so gentle with you... under better circumstances, you would have blushed, but instead your stomach just twists again as another sob rips from you.

The reminder of his gaze on you stings much worse than you could have ever thought. Your skin burned where he touched you, which was everywhere, and your lips felt sore at the reminder of the kiss you shared. The only kiss you have ever shared with Noah, and will ever share probably, and that thought alone brings a sour taste into the base of your throat. 

You find yourself wishing that there could be more kisses and moments like last night with your best friend, and that realization is scary all in itself. 

You trusted Noah, that much is true, but maybe somewhere deep down, the reason you had asked him wasn't just on that alone. Maybe... there was something more, lingering in the back of your mind, your heart, and you just hadn't noticed it yet. Or chose not to notice it? You're not sure, but either way it's here now, pushing it's way through and God... it fucking hurts.

You cry until you can't anymore, until it hurts to even blink, and then you're pushing yourself up and out of your bed. You're not sure if it's because of the raging headache you're sporting at the moment, or if it really is a good idea, but you decide on the only thing you can think of at the moment that may salvage your relationship with Noah.

Ignore everything. Act like nothing happened. If you do that, maybe he'll realize it wasn't a big deal and things will go back to normal. That'll work, right?

Something in the pit of your stomach tells you you're completely wrong, but you listen to that loud part in your brain that just won't shut up. You're going to shower and then hole up in your room. Maybe you'll take a drive. Anything to take your mind off of last night and off of Noah entirely. 

Your stomach twists again in that way you hate at the thought of your best friend, and you do your best to shove it to the back for at least a few more hours.

Noah feels lighter when he steps back into your shared apartment, a small smile on his face. The song he and Jolly worked on this morning was coming together and he felt really fucking good about it. So good, in fact, his feet were already dragging him towards your room, excitement filling him to tell you all about his morning endeavor.

He realized he can’t wait to see you, excitement only growing as he inches closer to your door. His mind wanders to last night and his skin buzzes just at the thought, stomach turning in the most delicious way. His face flushes at the thought of you beneath him, and his step slows down.

He never thought in a million years he'd ever been in a position like that with you. Had the thought ever crossed his mind? Sure, but he would never ever even consider making a move on you. You were his best friend - one of the most important people in his life. He wasn't about to ruin that, and maybe that's why he initially declined your offer. Though, the more he thought about it, the more he inched towards yes.

What really sealed the deal was the thought of you being under someone else. It made his skin crawl, and his stomach turned so roughly that he almost made himself sick over it, learning quickly that that feeling was jealousy. 

He feels a bit selfish having agreed to your favor, because he knew deep down it was more than just being a good friend. Maybe those feelings he thought he had pushed back into the deepest parts of his brain had vanished after the many years of being your friend, but he thinks it just grew. Slowly, but surely, and then all at once whenever you looked up at him last night, eyes glossed over and his name on your tongue.

He knocks on your door and waits, but after a solid minute of silence passes by his hand twists the knob, slowly pushing your door open. He expected to find you asleep in bed, growing excited at the thought of crawling back in with you, but his heart drops when he realizes you were nowhere to be found. Your bed was neatly made and your bag you typically kept on your desk was gone, indicating you were probably out.

Which was fine. He reaches for his phone, maybe having missed your text that you wouldn't be home, but finds nothing from you. That's odd.

He frowns, thumbs already moving across his screen as anxiety bubbles slowly in his chest. Usually you'd at least let him know you'd be out or even where you had gone, but giving him nothing was completely out of the norm for you.

where are you?

With a friend! Be home later.

His brows furrow at your message. Relief doesn't wash over him like he thought it would, instead dread fills his stomach.

You have other friends. This isn't anything out of the ordinary, he's come home to you not being there. You can hang out with other people. However, after last night, something in the back of his mind is screaming at him that something’s wrong. He shakes it off, chalking it up to his anxiety messing with him, thumbs moving again.

just checking :) got worried lol when will you be back?

Not sure. Don't wait up :)

His stomach drops. He didn't like the way that made him feel, the anxiety inside of him bubbling over. He scrolled up to your other text thread, seeing the messages shared between the two of you and the obvious vibe switch. To an outsider, this would probably look like a normal text between two friends, but deep down he knew something was up.

He makes his way to his room, chewing on his bottom lip as his mind races. Had he done something last night? Noah can't think of a single thing he may have done wrong, having thought he had done everything right. He did his best to make sure you were taken care of, the way he had wished his first time was, but maybe he hadn’t.

Or maybe you just simply didn’t like it.

He tells himself not to dwell on it, trying to find something to do to pass the time until you come home. That doesn’t work, because he finds himself staring at the ceiling hours later, the anxiety inside of him growing as each minute passes.

Fuck.

You managed to stay out much longer than you anticipated, turns out you had a lot to say to Anna when you had asked her if you could come over. You were scared that she was going to judge you for asking Noah to be your first, but instead she sat patiently with you on her bed, listening intently to everything you had to say.

When you were finished, she simply smiled at you before asking, "You like Noah, don’t you?"

All you can do is nod, and if you hadn't cried yourself out that morning, you would have probably cried right then and there. 

She didn't seem shocked, instead only smiled more before telling you that she figured as much, and maybe even confessed that that's why she suggested to you to ask someone you trusted like Noah, because she knew, and you quote,  Noah would never say no to you. You're not sure what to do with that information, because she refused to elaborate, saying you'll understand eventually. 

Hours later, when you came home and quietly tip-toed to your room, you thanked God that Noah was asleep. It was close to midnight, you think, and you had to pass his room to get to yours. His door was cracked open and you could just barely see him curled up in his bed, and the sight alone made your heart clench beneath your chest. 

Anna said you had to talk to him, and you think eventually you will, but the thought still hurts. You'll have to do it when it doesn't anymore, yet you're not sure when that will be. You toss and turn that night in bed, eyes glued to your ceiling as every single possible scenario passed through your mind.

What if you had truly ruined your relationship with Noah? You had to have, seeing as he didn't even feel comfortable enough to stay long enough for you to wake up. 

You let yourself cry one more time, mourning the loss of one of the most important people in your life, before you finally drifted off to sleep. Then, that morning when you woke, you told yourself that you'd talk to him tonight. Apologize for everything and tell him it can be forgotten, and hope you can go back to normal eventually. 

His door is still shut when you wake up, and you rush to your shared bathroom to try and hurry through your morning routine. You pray that he doesn’t wake, and when you’re tiptoeing back to your room, his door is still shut.

You’re relieved, but there’s still a small part of you that wishes maybe, just maybe, he would’ve been out here waiting for you. You crawl back into bed after that, deciding you’ll rot there for the day before having to face your roommate.

Maybe you’ll take another nap. Maybe you’ll finish that book you’ve been putting off for months. 

You actually don’t get to do any of that because your door is being pushed open, Noah staring at you from the doorway. At first you don’t do anything, hell, you don’t even breathe. Your eyes widen as you stare at your best friend, whose eyes are narrowing at you.

“Alright,” Noah stares at you on your bed, hands on his hips. “What the fuck is your problem? Was it seriously that bad that you’ve resorted to straight up ignoring me?”

You sit frozen, pulling your blankets up your body. “What?”

“Was it bad?” He repeats, his tone insistent. “Or did I hurt you? I had to have done something for you to ignore me.” 

“What? No.” You shake your head, embarrassment and slight anger running through because this is what he wanted to talk about after leaving you alone? “I’m fine. It was great.” 

He stares at you for a beat before his arms fall to his sides, mouth dropping into a frown. "Okay, cool. That still doesn't explain why you've been ignoring me."

The anger outweighs your embarrassment and you sit up fully in your bed, eyes narrowing in a glare at your best friend.

"Well, why haven't you talked to me?" Your arms cross over your chest, tilting your chin up. "Besides, you're the one who left me alone in the morning without a fucking word."

You could hear a pin drop with how silent the room fell, the frown on Noah's face slipping away. Your heart raced beneath your chest as you watched Noah's face fall into one of confusion and then into understanding, soft brown eyes widening as yours only narrowed more. 

"Shit. I didn't text you."

Your brows furrowed. "What?"

"I meant to text you." He says almost frantically now, slapping a hand to his forehead. "Holy shit, is that why you haven't talked to me? Because you thought I left you alone?" 

"Well, I didn't have to think about it - you did leave me alone."

His lips form into a frown again. "It’s not what you think."

"Well, what am I supposed to think, Noah?"

He sighs before running a hand down his face.

"Jolly called me about some studio time, caught me up on an idea he had and I think I just got so excited over the whole thing I just... left?" He comes to stand next to your bed, frown still evident on his lips. "And I meant to text you, because I couldn't get myself to wake you up. You looked too cute. Didn't wanna disturb you after um… the night you had."

Your face flushes at his words, flashes of your night shared together racing through your mind. Noah notices, his own face flushing, before sitting down beside you. Your shoulders tense at the closeness. 

He continues, "I was going to come back. I wouldn't just leave after that. I'd never do that to you."

You let his words linger. If you had thought about it with a more rational mind, you would’ve realized that yeah, Noah would never do that to you. Leaving you without a word made no sense whatsoever. 

"Well." Your shoulders deflate, giving your friend a sheepish look. "I really wish you had texted me, because then I wouldn't have convinced myself you hated me and regretted the entire thing."

"Hate you? Babe, I would never." He looked at you, almost offended, and yet your body was buzzing at the slip of the pet name. "And for the record, I don't regret anything. As long as you don't."

"I don't." It flies from your lips so quickly that your face warms from embarrassment, Noah's own face flushing. "I don’t regret it at all. As long as you don't."

"I don't." He mimics your words, much softer than you had, and his gaze falling on you makes you feel warm all over.

Your mind was racing, trying to catch up with everything. Noah hadn't actually left you in a haste of regret, instead left because... he got excited about new music? A text he had meant to send was forgotten due to likely being distracted by whatever Jolly had sprung onto him, and you feel like punching yourself for not using the rational part of your brain and talking to him to begin with. Anna even told you that you should, but by then you had fully convinced yourself he hated your guts.

If only you had texted him that morning, maybe all this miscommunication would've never happened. Instead, you'd not only caused anxiety for yourself, but for Noah, and that thought alone upsets you immensely. You meet Noah's eyes with a frown, arms tightening around your chest.

"I'm sorry." You tip your head back with a groan, hands now coming up to cover your face. "If I had just... fucking texted you like a normal person, we wouldn't be in this weird mess."

"It's not a mess. Just miscommunication at its finest." Noah chuckles halfheartedly at his joke, and you feel the covers shift as he scoots closer to you. "It happens, and honestly, I should've just woken you up. That would've probably solved everything."

"Maybe."

Noah pauses before asking, “So… you actually don’t regret it?”

“No.” You flush, before quietly adding, “…It was amazing.” 

He flushes. "...Yeah?"

You feel him scoot closer, your covers shifting and all you can do is nod. He's close enough now that you can feel his body heat, and the urge to reach out to touch him was suddenly the only thing you could think about. 

"Mhm. Thank you... you didn't have to do that."

"I didn't." He hums and you realize just how much closer he's gotten. If it weren't for the blanket still partially wrapped around your body, your legs would be touching, and the thought brings a shiver down your spine. "But I wanted to. Thank you for trusting me."

You don't know how it happens, or when it happens, but the second your eyes meet Noah's again it's like some gravitational pull is tugging you towards him. It's all one big blur, a flurry of limbs as Noah reaches for you while you're trying to free yourself of the blanket wrapped around your body to crawl into his lap. Your lips smash together in a bruising kiss but you don't even care, especially when Noah makes the sweetest noises against your lips.

Your arms wrap around his shoulders as you settle into his lap, legs on either side of his hips, and his fingers dig into your thighs. The groan he lets out against your lips goes straight to your core and the reminder of last night is clear as day in your mind. You're overwhelmed, the need to be as close as possible to him again flooding your senses. It's you who lets out a noise this time, a desperate whine, and Noah pulls back at that, eyes half-lidded.

You catch your breath before you're chasing his lips again, drunk off the feeling, and your hips start moving on their own, grinding yourself into him. You gasp at the feeling of his hardening cock between your thighs and Noah takes the opportunity to lick into your mouth, swallowing the noises you were making. He pulls back only trailing his lips across your cheek and down your jaw, nipping at your skin. Your eyes are beginning to roll back at the same time he sighs out your name, fingers inching dangerously close to where you needed him the most, before something inside of you snaps. 

"Wait." The almost drunken-haze you had felt from his kiss was shattered, the reality of everything falling all at once. You pull back from his kiss against your skin, resting your hands on his shoulders to keep yourself steady at how fast you moved, eyes widening. "Wait, wait, wait. What the fuck are we doing?"

Noah pulls back from your neck, brown eyes glossed over in what you can only assume was want. He blinks before realization fills his features, and you feel his grip on your thighs loosen.

"I..." You can't help but watch his neck when he swallows, and also can't help but follow his tongue as it swipes across his bottom lip. "I don't know. I just really wanted to do that again."

His words hit you right in the chest, heart pounding against your ears. "Really?"

"Yeah. I haven't stopped thinking about it," He murmurs, and you watch his eyes drop from yours back down to your lips. "Kind of want to keep doing it."

"Oh." It comes out weakly, and you're not sure if the flush on your cheeks was from his words or from the kiss you just shared. Maybe both. "You want to keep doing it?"

"Yeah." His eyes drag back up to yours and you see something flash in them, something that has your stomach turning in a way you've never felt before. Were those butterflies? "I think I have for a while. Is that okay?"

Oh.

Your heart was beating so rapidly against your chest and you couldn't find the right words to say, because what the fuck was he talking about? He wanted to kiss you? And has been wanting to for a while? Your mind immediately goes back to Anna, to her telling you that you'll understand eventually, and suddenly it was all starting to make sense. Your arms settled back around his neck and you felt his fingers dig into your skin again, eyes never leaving yours.

"I think I have for a while, too, so um.” You swallow down the nerves, giving Noah a timid smile. “Yes. Very much okay."

You see the ghost of a smile on his lips, outer corners turning up at your words. "Yeah?"

You nod, but instead of answering you lean back towards him. He meets you halfway, lips pressing to yours in a much different kiss than the one you had just shared. It wasn't as frantic, filled with something you can't quite place yet, but you were obsessed. It made you feel warm, almost like you were floating, and you quickly realized you would never get enough of it. 

You've never experienced this with another person in your life and you're suddenly thinking about how you never want to do this with anyone else. Just Noah.

You squeak against his lips when you feel him lift you up and toss you onto the bed, your back meeting the sheets. He's on top of you immediately, but he doesn't attach his lips to yours just yet, instead stares down at you with the softest brown eyes you'd ever seen. 

"I also think I've liked you for a lot longer than I've realized, and I hope that's okay, too." He looks almost terrified to say that, and you feel a pang of sadness punch you in the stomach.

"That's more than okay," You all but whisper, reaching out to pull Noah down to you, "because I think I have too."

You don't miss the relieved smile Noah gives you before his lips were back on yours, his body melting right on top of yours.

[dekariosclan]

I’m curious how you think Gale would handle his beloved Tav who has epilepsy? It’s something I’ve struggled with for about 8 years now, and it’s a disability now often recognized.

Do you think he’d make some sort of potion to stop the seizures? Or maybe he’d enchanted a piece of jewelry to stop them? Idk, whatever you think!

For me my seizures typically happen within an hour of waking up, and are trigger by flashing lights and sleep deprivation. My seizures are always grand Mal seizures, which basically means I violently convulse and lose consciousness for a short period of time. If you have any questions or anything, feel free to DM me! I’m happy to help! And thank you for taking time k read and possible write this, I know it’s not easy. :) 💜

@nerbyrobotics, I’m so sorry that you have to deal with such a severe condition, but I’m happy to answer your question because I can’t think of a better or more loving partner for someone struggling with epilepsy than Gale.

You know, one of the reasons I think Gale would be absolutely amazing at caring for a partner with health issues isn’t just because of his loving heart and kind nature—both of which are still very important qualities!—but because he knows what it is like to have a debilitating condition. One where he was wholly dependent on others helping him and offering him assistance during his flare-ups. After experiencing such a condition and the stress and anxiety that goes along with it, Gale would be completely empathetic to his beloved’s struggle and would go out of his way to do whatever he could to ease their burden.

Of course, I think if there were any possibility of Gale curing Tav completely, he would go for it—even if doing so had a fair chance of danger (to him, not Tav). If a cure wasn’t possible, then the next option he would try would be exactly what you said: potions or enchanted jewelry to prevent the seizures entirely—and you’d best believe he’d stay on top of keeping those potions filled and that jewel enchanted at all times.

If prevention was not possible, then Gale would set up some sort of means of proactive protection—for example, enchanted jewelry for both Tav and Gale that would give an alert that a seizure was imminent so they could prepare for it. There would be pillows enchanted to always protect Tav’s head during an episode, and Gale’s mirror image on standby to assist Tav if needed, whether ‘real’ Gale was present at the time or not.

In short, Tav would never be left with the anxiety of being alone, or unprepared, or feeling like a burden in dealing with their health—because Gale would know how awful that feels, and would do everything in his power to give his beloved the security and confidence to live their life to the fullest, while still being fully prepared to help them overcome any obstacles arising from their epilepsy.

Op, I sincerely hope you have someone like Gale in your life to offer you loving support through your health journey, and I wish you nothing but the best in your future. 💜

[blacksired]

his heart, her ocean

Chapter 3: The voice and a deal

Pairing:Jacaerys Velaryon x FEM OC!

Warnings: none yet

Word count: dunno

Previous chapter:

•·.·''·.·• •·.·''·.·

In the days that followed, Nereida spent nearly all her time in her secret cave, tracing the edges of the silver locket with gentle fingers. She knew every detail of the painting inside by heart—the soft strokes of the silver-haired woman, the two younger boys, the dark-skinned girls… and Jace.

She sighed, leaning back against the cave wall as her tail flicked absentmindedly.

She had saved him. She had touched him, sung to him. And yet, he was so far away.

"Still staring at that thing?" Liri's voice cut through the silence as the tiny seahorse swam up beside her.

Nereida gave him a half-hearted glare. "Go on then, say it."

Liri spun in a slow, dramatic circle. "Oh, I don't need to say anything. Your face says it all. You're completely obsessed!"

Nereida groaned, pressing the locket against her chest. "I just... I keep wondering. Does he remember me? Did he wake up thinking it was all a dream?"

Liri huffed. “Of course he remembers. You saved his life. But what does it matter? He’s up there, and you’re down here. You know how this ends.”

Nereida didn’t respond. She only held the necklace closer to her heart, staring wistfully toward the surface.

•·.·''·.·• •·.·''·.·

Jacaerys Velaryon had never been one to dwell on dreams. He was a man of action, a prince with duties and responsibilities.

And yet, he couldn't let this go.

The girl had been real.

He could still hear the song, the haunting beauty of it. Still feel the soft, cool touch against his cheek. The image of her face—blurry, barely visible—haunted his every waking moment.

The castle library had become his second home, its candlelit halls littered with books and scrolls as he pored over every legend, every tale that spoke of strange voices from the sea. Sirens, spirits, old forgotten gods—nothing he read felt right.

“She wasn’t a monster,” he muttered to himself one evening, rubbing his temple. “She wasn’t a trick of the mind.”

Lucerys, who had been flipping lazily through a book beside him, snorted. “Are you sure? Because this is starting to sound like something a man says after he’s hit his head too hard.”

Jace shot him a glare. “I know what I heard.”

Lucerys smirked, but before he could tease further, Baela and Rhaena entered the library, both grinning as if they were in on a private joke.

“Tell me it isn’t true,” Baela said, crossing her arms. “You actually sent word to the villages for women to come sing to you?”

Jace looked back down at his book. “And if I did?”

Desperate for answers, he sent word throughout the villages on Dragonstone, calling for any young lady with a beautiful voice to come to the castle. If she could sing the song he had heard, if she could make him feel what he had felt that night, he would know.

Rhaena giggled. “Because you think one of them might be the mystery girl from the sea?”

Jace exhaled sharply. “I need to find her.”

Baela shook her head with a smirk. “Jace, I say this with love, but you’ve lost your senses.”

Yet despite his siblings’ relentless teasing, Jace followed through with his plan.

For the next several days, young women from the nearby villages arrived at Dragonstone, lining up in the great hall with hopeful expressions. They sang, one by one, their voices ranging from sweet to utterly unbearable. Some warbled off-key, some sang too softly, and others tried far too hard.

Rhaenyra sat beside her son, a forced smile on her lips as she massaged her temple. By the tenth girl, her patience was thinning. By the twentieth, she was regretting ever letting Jace go through with this.

Each time, Jace listened intently, closing his eyes to see if any voice sparked recognition in his heart. And each time, he opened them with disappointment.

None of them were her.

By the end of the last performance, Baela, Lucerys, and Rhaena were barely holding in their laughter from the sidelines.

“Well,” Baela teased, nudging her younger brother. “Find your true love yet?”

Daemon, who had remained silent throughout most of it, let out a short, dry laugh. "The boy has lost his wits."

Jace clenched his jaw. "I haven't."

"Oh, brother," Baela said, watching another unfortunate girl attempt a melody that made Jace visibly wince. "Have you truly lost your mind, or is this some grand excuse to avoid a political marriage?”

Rhaena giggled. "Perhaps it's both?"

Jace shot them both a glare. "This isn't a game."

Lucerys leaned forward, resting his chin in his hand. "It rather feels like one. A very painful one."

Another girl sang, her voice cracking in an unfortunate attempt at a high note. Rhaenyra, sitting beside Daemon, closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. "Enough," she muttered under her breath. "I've had enough of this madness."

Jace turned to her, frustration tightening his jaw. “Mother—”

Daemon raised an eyebrow. "You nearly drowned in a storm, Jacaerys. Perhaps what you saw was nothing more than a dream brought on by your injuries."

"It wasn't a dream!" Jace snapped, standing so abruptly that the hall quieted. He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark curls before speaking again, calmer this time. "She was real. She saved me. And I will find her."

“Jacaerys,” Rhaenyra interrupted, rubbing her temples. “I love you dearly, but if I have to endure one more dreadful song, I will have Ser Lorent escort me to exile.”

Baela burst into laughter. Lucerys grinned. Even Rhaena covered a quiet giggle.

Jace, however, was unmoved.

Rhaenyra looked at her son and saw the unwavering determination in his eyes. She sighed, softening.

“I do not doubt that someone saved you,” she admitted. “But this… this obsession is not healthy.”

Jace clenched his fists, but before he could argue, Rhaenyra stepped forward and gently touched his cheek. “I know you wish to find a match. And I want that for you too, but my son… this girl may not even exist in the way you think she does.”

But Jace only shook his head, his grip tightening around the table edge.

He would find her.

He had to.

•·.·''·.·• •·.·''·.·

The ocean was quiet, save for the gentle rush of currents as Nereida swam toward her secret cave, her mind lost in thoughts of Jace. The locket was clutched tightly in her hands, the faces inside now familiar to her—though their names remained a mystery.

She had come here every day since the storm, tracing the delicate lines of the painting and wondering what it would be like to belong to that world. To be by his side.

But she was not alone.

Talon watched from behind a jagged rock, his golden scales dim in the deep blue waters. His sharp green eyes narrowed as he followed her movements, curiosity turning to suspicion. He had always known Nereida was different, always drifting too close to the surface, always distracted. But now, seeing her enter a hidden cave—one she had clearly kept secret from him and the court—he knew something was wrong.

Without hesitation, he turned and swam away.

Nereida had just settled onto a rock inside her cave, holding the locket close, when the waters outside stirred. A powerful presence entered the cavern.

She turned quickly—only to find herself staring at her father.

King Thalor loomed in the entrance, his trident crackling with energy, his expression dark as a stormy sea. And beside him, standing stiffly, was Talon.

Nereida’s heart dropped.

Her father’s gaze swept the cave, his frown deepening as he took in the sight before him—an entire collection of human artifacts, stacked high on shelves of coral and rock. Rusted weapons, glass bottles, silver goblets, torn bits of sails… all things lost to the ocean.

And then his eyes landed on the locket in her hands.

Silence stretched between them like an unspoken threat.

Then, the Ocean King spoke, his voice like a rolling tide. “What is this?”

Nereida swallowed hard. “It’s nothing—”

Her father moved before she could finish.

With a single swing of his trident, a powerful surge of water ripped through the cave. Shelves cracked, objects tumbled, centuries of treasures scattered into the currents.

“No!” Nereida cried, lunging forward as vases shattered and maps tore apart, but she could do nothing against the raw force of the sea.

King Thalor showed no hesitation. He turned, eyes burning with disappointment, and struck again. More artifacts crumbled. Another strike—and the delicate glass painting within the locket cracked straight through the center.

Nereida gasped, clutching the broken locket to her chest. “Father, stop!”

But he didn’t.

Only when the last of her collection was ruined, the cave left in wreckage, did he lower his trident. His fury had cooled, but the sternness in his face remained.

“You are my daughter,” he said. “And you will not waste yourself on dreams of the surface. This ends now.”

He turned and left, the waters around him swirling with authority.

Talon remained frozen in place, staring at the destruction he had caused. His eyes darted between Nereida’s trembling form and the ruined cave, guilt tightening in his throat.

Nereida sank onto a smooth rock, pressing her forehead to her arms as sobs wracked her body.

Talon hesitated, then slowly reached out. “Nereida, I—”

She flinched, shoving his hand away. “Don’t.”

“Nereida, I didn’t—”

“You did.” Her voice was raw. She lifted her head, eyes shining with unshed tears. “You told him.”

Talon clenched his jaw. “I didn’t think—”

“No, you didn’t,” she snapped.

For the first time, Talon looked truly ashamed. He had been raised to do his duty, to serve the Ocean King—but he hadn’t expected this. He hadn’t expected to see her suffer.

Nereida wiped her tears away, her grief hardening into determination. “I know what I have to do.”

Talon tensed. “What?”

She turned to him, her expression sharp as a blade. “I’m going to the Sea Witch.”

A silence colder than the deep set between them.

Liri, who had been hiding behind a coral outcrop, darted forward in alarm. “Nereida, no! You can’t be serious!”

“Nereida, listen to me,” Talon started, his voice urgent. “You don’t know what you’re doing. The Sea Witch is dangerous—”

“And what would you have me do?” she shot back. “Stay here? Marry you? Live my life caged beneath the waves while my heart belongs to the surface?”

Talon winced.

She swam past him, her resolve unwavering. “You can go tell my father again,” she said bitterly. “I don’t care anymore.”

Talon didn’t move. He didn’t call for the guards.

Instead, after a long pause, he turned and followed her.

Liri, still frantic, zipped around him. “You’re just going to let her do this?!”

Talon exhaled. “I’m going to make sure she doesn’t get herself killed.”

And with that, they swam into the dark unknown, where fate waited in the shadows.

•·.·''·.·• •·.·''·.·

The waters grew darker as Nereida swam further from the kingdom, the warm glow of the coral reefs fading into an eerie twilight. Even the currents seemed different here—thicker, heavier, as if the ocean itself were warning her to turn back. But she wouldn’t. She couldn’t.

Talon and Liri followed close behind, though neither said a word. Talon’s face was grim, his jaw tight with unease. Liri, usually so full of chatter, hovered near Nereida’s shoulder, his tiny body trembling.

Then, they saw it—the entrance to the Sea Witch’s domain.

A massive cavern, its entrance framed by jagged rocks and twisted kelp, loomed ahead. Strange glowing plants pulsed faintly along the cave walls, their dim green light casting eerie shadows. The water here felt colder, heavier.

And then, movement.

From the shadows, two long, sinuous forms slithered into view. Moray eels, their slick, inky-black bodies twisting and curling like dark ribbons in the current. Their yellow eyes gleamed with unnatural intelligence.

"Well, well," one hissed, its voice smooth as oil. "What have we here?"

"A little lost princess," the second eel crooned, circling around Nereida with slow, deliberate movements. "How delightful."

Nereida forced herself to remain still, even as the creatures slithered closer. "I’ve come to see the Sea Witch," she said, her voice steady.

The eels exchanged a glance, their grins widening.

"Ohhh," the first eel purred. "You hear that, Nox? She wants to see her."

"Oh, how interesting, Lux," the second eel replied, his yellow eyes gleaming.

Nereida’s patience thinned. "Take me to her."

The eels let out a soft, hissing laugh. "Of course, Your Highness," Nox said smoothly.

"Right this way," Lux added, slithering ahead into the darkness.

Nereida followed without hesitation.

Talon grabbed her wrist. "Nereida, stop. Think about what you're doing."

She yanked her arm free. "I have thought about it."

Talon’s expression darkened, but she didn’t give him time to argue. She turned and swam forward, deeper into the cave, where the Sea Witch awaited.

The cavern twisted and turned, the eerie glow of bioluminescent plants barely lighting the way. The deeper they swam, the more unsettling the surroundings became. Strange shapes loomed in the darkness—coral formations that resembled grasping hands, shadows that moved when nothing was there.

And then, at last, they arrived.

The chamber was vast, its walls lined with shelves of glass bottles filled with swirling, shimmering liquids. Strange symbols were etched into the stone, pulsating with dark energy. And at the center of it all sat her.

The Sea Witch.

Her name was Nyxora.

She lounged upon a throne of black coral, her dark tendrils of hair flowing around her like ink in water. Her deep violet skin shimmered under the dim glow of her enchanted lair, and her six long, sleek tentacles curled lazily beneath her. Her eyes—sharp and knowing—landed on Nereida, a slow smile curving her lips.

"Princess Nereida," Nyxora purred, her voice smooth as silk, rich as honey. "I've been expecting you."

Nereida's breath caught, but she steeled herself. "You know why I'm here."

Nyxora tilted her head, feigning innocence. "Do I?"

Nox and Lux coiled around their mistress, grinning. "She wants to be human," Lux whispered.

"She wants the prince," Nox added

Nyxora chuckled, resting her chin on her hand. "Oh, how tragic. A mermaid in love with a human prince." She sighed dramatically. "It's a tale as old as time, really. And yet... I do love a good romance."

Talon tensed beside Nereida. "This is a mistake."

Nyxora barely spared him a glance. "Ah, the betrothed." Her lips curled. "Feeling threatened, dear?"

Talon scowled, but he said nothing.

Nereida swam forward, her voice firm. "I want to make a deal."

Nyxora's grin widened. "Then let's talk, my dear."

Nereida’s heart pounded as she floated before Nyxora’s dark throne, her fingers curling into fists at her sides. She had made up her mind. There was no turning back now.

“I will give anything to be human,” she said, her voice steady despite the fear curling in her chest.

Nyxora’s violet lips curled into a slow, delighted smile. “Anything?”

Nereida swallowed hard but nodded. “Yes.”

The Sea Witch leaned forward, resting her chin against her hand, studying the young mermaid with deep amusement. “Oh, how deliciously desperate. You’d give up your world, your family, your very nature… all for a boy.” She sighed theatrically, tapping a sharp black nail against her cheek. “You young ones are always the same.”

“I love him,” Nereida snapped.

Nyxora arched a brow. “Oh, do you? After a single night? After a single song?” She chuckled darkly. “No, dear. You don’t love him.”

She lifted a hand, dark magic crackling at her fingertips as the currents in the cave began to shift, pulling around her like a living thing. The soft glow of the potion bottles on the walls flickered as shadows twisted and curled through the water.

Nyxora’s voice dropped to a whisper, seductive and knowing.

“But you want to.”

The words sent a chill through Nereida, but she didn’t back down.

Nyxora’s smile widened, and then—she began to sing.

Her voice slithered through the water, smooth as silk, dark as the deepest trench of the ocean. The melody was haunting, weaving its way around Nereida like a siren’s call, laced with temptation and danger.

“Your voice, so sweet, so rare, so pure…

A gift, a treasure, a song so sure.

But what is a song when no one can hear?

What is a dream when love is near?”

Talon and Liri flinched as the magic in the cavern grew heavier, wrapping around Nereida like invisible chains.

Nyxora stretched out a hand, her eyes gleaming with mischief.

“A prince so handsome, a love so bright…

To hold him close, to dance in light.

A kiss to bind, a kiss to claim…

But fail, dear child, and drown in shame.”

She snapped her fingers, and a swirling vial of shimmering, dark liquid appeared in her grasp.

Nereida stared at it, her breath shallow.

Nyxora twirled the vial between her fingers. “The deal is simple, Princess,” she purred. “I will grant you legs. You will walk on land as a human, as beautiful as you are beneath the waves.” She smirked. “Your prince won’t be able to resist you.”

Nereida’s chest tightened with hope.

“But,” Nyxora continued, her smile sharpening, “there is a price.”

Nereida knew it was coming. “What do you want?”

Nyxora leaned in, her violet eyes gleaming with delight. “Your voice.”

Talon stepped forward. “No,” he growled. “That’s too much.”

Nyxora didn’t even look at him. She kept her gaze locked on Nereida, her fingers swirling through the water as strands of dark energy curled around them.

“You’ll still be able to smile, to laugh, to charm him with your pretty eyes,” she said, her tone smooth, coaxing. “But you won’t be able to speak. No songs, no words, no whispers of love.”

Nereida’s heart pounded.

Nyxora tilted her head. “And there’s one more thing,” she added with a sly smirk.

Nereida stiffened. “What?”

Nyxora held up three slender fingers. “Three days. That is all you get.”

A cold dread slithered through Nereida’s spine.

“In those three days,” Nyxora continued, “you must make your prince fall in love with you. Truly in love. And not just any love—he must kiss you.” Her smile was wicked. “A true love’s kiss, the kind that seals fate. If he does, you will remain human forever.”

The words settled in Nereida’s chest like an anchor.

A kiss. That was all it took. If Jace kissed her, they could be together. She would never have to return to the sea.

But Nyxora wasn’t finished.

“And if he doesn’t?” the Sea Witch whispered, her eyes dark with amusement.

Nereida swallowed hard. “Then what?”

Nyxora’s grin stretched wider, revealing a row of sharp teeth. “Then, my dear… you will return to the sea.”

Nereida exhaled, relief washing over her.

But then Nyxora chuckled. A deep, cruel sound.

“Oh, don’t look so hopeful,” she taunted. “You won’t be coming back as you are now.”

Nereida froze.

Nyxora gestured to the floor of her cavern, where clusters of eerie, twisted polyps lined the seabed. Misshapen figures, frozen in silent agony, their forms barely recognizable as they swayed in the water like lost souls.

Talon inhaled sharply.

Liri let out a tiny, horrified squeak.

Nereida’s blood ran cold.

Nyxora leaned closer, her voice a velvet whisper. “If you fail, you’ll belong to me, dear princess. And you’ll join my collection.”

The cavern seemed to close in around Nereida, the shadows stretching, the faces of the trapped souls watching her with hollow, pleading expressions.

Talon grabbed her arm. “Nereida, don’t.”

Liri shook his head furiously. “Please! Let’s go home! We can find another way—”

But Nereida didn’t move.

Her chest rose and fell rapidly, her mind screaming at her to run, to listen to them, to turn back before it was too late.

And yet—

Jace’s face flashed in her mind. His soft brown eyes. His kind smile. The way he had touched her hand, even in his half-conscious state. The way his voice had called for her, even when he didn’t know her name.

She thought of the ruins of her cave. Of her father’s rage. Of the life she was expected to live.

Talon’s voice cut through the shadows. “Nereida, no.”

She turned to him. His face was tight with panic, his fists clenched. “This is madness! She’s lying—there’s always a trick!”

Nyxora chuckled. “Oh, but there’s no trick, dear boy. Just a simple bargain.”

She lifted a hand, and the parchment drifted toward Nereida. The glowing script shimmered with magic.

“All it takes… is a signature.”

Nereida hesitated. Her gaze flickered back to Talon, to Liri, who was trembling beside her.

“Nereida, please,” Liri begged. “Don’t do this.”

But it was already decided.

Nereida reached out, her fingers brushing against the contract. The magic pulsed beneath her touch, cold yet intoxicating.

She met Nyxora’s gaze. “I’ll sign it.”

With a final breath, she pressed her fingertip to the parchment. Magic surged from it, sealing the agreement with an unbreakable force. The moment the contract disappeared into the shadows, Nyxora let out a delighted laugh.

She lifted her arms, and the cavern exploded with swirling currents of dark magic. The glow of enchanted sigils burned into the walls as Nyxora began to sing once more, her voice wrapping around Nereida like a siren’s call.

“Now sing, little princess, your song so divine,

Your voice is the price, and soon he’ll be thine.”

A golden mist, shimmering and bright, began to rise from Nereida’s throat. She gasped, panic flashing in her eyes.

“Nereida!” Talon shouted.

She clutched at her throat as the magic pulled at her, tearing the melody from her very soul. A soft, aching note escaped her lips—her final song, her final sound—before her voice was ripped away entirely, drawn into the glowing orb that hovered in Nyxora’s hands.

The moment it left her, a searing pain shot through her body.

Her tail—her beautiful, shimmering tail—began to change.

Nereida’s vision blurred. Her body convulsed as her fins split apart, reforming, reshaping—her tail shedding into two long, human legs. The pain was unbearable, like being torn in half. She couldn’t breathe—

Talon moved first. He darted forward, grabbing her before she collapsed completely.

“She can’t survive down here like this!” he shouted, his grip tightening around her. “We have to get her to the surface—now!”

Liri, despite his terror, rushed to Talon’s side, trying to help.

Behind them, Nyxora only laughed, a deep, wicked sound that echoed through the cavern.

“Swim fast, little fish,” she crooned. “The clock is already ticking.”

Talon didn’t wait to hear more. With Nereida in his arms, he kicked off, racing toward the light above as fast as the currents would carry them.

The last thing Nereida saw before everything faded into black was Nyxora’s grinning face, and the glowing orb of golden light—her stolen voice—locked safely in the Sea Witch’s hands.

•·.·''·.·• •·.·''·.·

omfg😭💗 I’m in love with this. It’s published on my wattpad aswell: blacksired02

[ofmermaidstories]

Hi mermie! I was scrolling though your yan deku posts (as one does.) and your tidbit about Deku putting bakugous partner in the basement if Bakugou ever dies was in my head the whole day so... here I am in your inbox to talk about it, months later fjfhhdhdl

I think you meant for izukus attachment to be platonic since he is doing what he thinks Bkg would have wanted or maybe even asked for!

But.... what if it morphed into something... idk more? Assuming scribbles doesn't exist here. It's dark soryyyyyyy.

It's just that the initial resentment would fade 1) bc isolation will take a toll on you 2) it's hard to keep telling yourself that Izuku the bad guy when he just sits there and takes your insults with this shaky smile(yk the one!!!!) 3) The only person who can grieve Bkg the way weeds does is Izuku.

I image one day after weeds tires herself out yelling at him she tells Izuku about her and bkg night routine. Izuku bviously asks for more, wanting to see a side of his friend he was never privy to.

It would start so slow. Sharing anecdotes about Bkg... Weeds laughing at their teenage antics, Izuku learning about the meals Kachan prepared for him on weekends, delivered on Mondays.

The relationship turns friendly, on account that they are the only ones who understand just how monumental the loss is. That neither of them can move on the way the world so clearly did.

As time progresses and they both start to see what kachan saw in the other. Besides, given how starved for human contact weeds would be, idk... they would both grow a bit touchy?? Nothing too serious at first. A hug before izuku goes out, knee to knee under the kitchen table.

After a while neither speak only about him. It's also about izukus day, the books and manga he brought for her, wether she needs anything.

And then, one day, a slip really. Maybe they're both tired, drowsy or drunk. And one of them twirls the others hair with the index. and the other looks to them at the right time. And kissing seemed like the natural thing to do.

Nothing too deep. Nothing heated. Just the slighest pressure. And it's enough to end the little world they built for themselves.

And!!!!!!! What would they do? Would Izuku try convince himself this is better? Of weeds is lonely! And Kachina entrusted her to him! Anyone else would hurt her! Besides, only he knows kacchan as wells as weeds does!!! If anyone can approximate how Kacchan would treat weeds its Izuku!

And weeds? Omg the guilt would eat her alive!!! But it's been so long since she touched anyone. And Katsuki talked so much about Izuku that he's always been part of their household in a way. And he has that same fire in his eyes Kastuki did. It's close enough. Not quite of course, it could never be but, as close as possible. Maybe she hallucinates him around the house after that. Never blaming. Never approving.... just there.

Idk.... such a twisted dynamic..... I can't help but picture them both sitting on the sofa, looking anywhere but at the other, with their hands sitting in the lap of Bakugos ghost.... reaching for the other, but unsure.

Sorry for madness I shall retire to my chambers now.

baby ur only mistake is assuming i ever thought things would stay platonic* in that AU.

i think izuku would think things were platonic, lmao, if not just intense, but obviously for weeds it would be a horror story right off the bat LMAOO. like!!! imagine you’ve just lost your boyfriend: the boyfriend who was quite literally thrown into your life, and then so violently taken from it (and it was always going to be violent, the way weeds and bakugou separate. one way or another). you feel sick, you’re grieving. waking up every day means leaving the blissful emptiness of sleep into the sickly reality that he’s gone. he’s just gone. the bed next to you is empty, the apartment is quiet. he’s not coming back. this isn’t some—work trip he’s going to stroll in through the door from, a bag thrown over his shoulder, his perfect face annoyed until he sees you. even though his shoes are still by the door, he’s never coming home again (god, you think, his shoes. you spend one evening on the floor of the entryway, curled around a pair of his more worn loafers. the leather of them is so soft—he’s had them for years, you think, as your tears drip on them, leaving shinning rivets). you can barely eat, you’re shunning noise—no tv, no music. all you can do is cry until you’re empty of it, and the rest of the time is you just sickening in bed, aching, like his absence is a physical thing, an organ (your lungs. your heart) that has been ripped from you. your whole life has changed—for the worst. it will never be the same again. and maybe—maybe his friends make it worse, you know? LOL. what can they say to you? do they even know how to begin to approach you??? none of them got to him in time. and you can’t blame them for that—some of them weren’t even there—but grief isn’t about logic, it’s about pain. and it’s scary!! it’s scary to go through it, yeah, but part of its blessing is that when you’re in the thick of it you don’t care what’s going on for anyone else outside of it. for the people on the edges of that, though? how do they approach you??? kirishima obviously does. he’s there the first night, he’s there proceeding ones, whenever he can, whenever you let him. denki, too. in some ways denki is like, better at it than kiri LMFAOOOO. they’re all heartbroken, obviously, but kirishima is just as lost as you are in some ways, maybe in more tbh, they have way more history together—teenage besties, the friends who started an agency together, riot ground now thrown in the middle of a frenzied media storm as the public wants to know what happens to the agency now. when kirishima is there, it’s because he’s just as lost and needs something to hold onto, he needs you, he needs to think you need him. with denki though—he’s there for you. but he’s there for katsuki, too. he’s there because katsuki would want him to be. denki’s not a bad cook, you know? in those early days when you’re waking up at disorientating hours—3pm, 4pm in the afternoon—it’s to the noise of denki and kirishima in the kitchen, denki whistling to himself as he makes a stirfry, or something, kirishima’s face pulled down and sad until he sees you, where you’re standing silently at the edge of the hallway, unwashed and puffy eyed. it’s denki who keeps up the chatter, denki who checks in, who cajoles you into being cared for. kirishima might hover, unsure of how to handle you, but denki is the one that makes sure you don’t slip into some grief-stricken catatonic coma.

others come and go—especially in the early days. everyone. shinsou. monoma’s there for a while, subdued, respectful for you, letting himself be ordered around by denks. yaoyorozu is there often, she organises the groceries denki’s merrily cooking through, and then a roster of pro heroes to visit, show their respect, check in on you. mina comes and goes when she can, squeezing you in a tight hug. shouto—not as often as you’d think. you’re not sure why. it’s the same for ochako, though she’s sweet when she is. iida visits, once or twice, squeezing your shoulder tight, promising that bakugou’s sacrifice will not be vain, that they will ensure his legacy, that they will protect you.

protect you from what, you don’t know. you don’t really care, either, at this point. maybe you should’ve, though, though the warnings would’ve never helped you nor the others anyway.

izuku for his part like. idk. goes AWOL lmfao. he’s devastated. the reason shouto and ochako and iida aren’t at the apartment as much as the others is because they are trying to keep him from falling apart. he’s waking up in the middle of the night, drenched with sweat, screaming for kacchan. he’s getting dark, dark circles under those big eyes. and he can’t—he can’t face you. ☹️ he’s so scared to!! he failed you, by failing kacchan. how can he go to your apartment—kacchan’s apartment, that glossy penthouse he saved years to get into—and walk through that door and look at you when kacchan can’t, anymore? how could he? how dare he? the only thing izuku can do is—idk. make the world a better place!!! save who he can!!!!! maybe it was just a violent accident that killed katsuki, something horrific and just—unblamable on anyone. maybe izuku spearheads multiple demolition of unsafe/unstable buildings, to make sure no one ever gets caught in them again. but it’s not safe enough. maybe some assholes crawl out of the woodworks, like, gloating that ground zero is gone. when they disappear no one beyond a few naive journalists question it. but maybe more people should’ve.

i think it takes a few months. maybe you’ve just reopened the store—god, your little store. 😭 you and by extension it have been through so much. and you’re still so, so sad. and like, maybe you didn’t have to return to work. maybe you had options, now, thanks to katsuki, thanks to his parents not contesting the new additions to his will. but sitting by idly was just driving you further into your grief. and maybe you still ache (you always ache) and maybe yeah it does hurt with an acute pain when you’re serving some young guy who’s excitedly buying some flowers for someone he loves, or you get an order to congratulate a couple on their baby—but you love your flowers, their cheery little faces. you trim ribbons and wrap bouquets in tissue paper and you smile, still, even on the days it feels like it’s going to wobble. even on the days you go home afterwards—to the too big, too empty apartment—and go straight to bed to cry.

kirishima pops in a lot! and then of course akane’s next door, keeping an eye on you. haru is a big kid now, not as clingy as he used to be when he was smaller, but he still zips in and out, the two of you talking silently, his hands sharp and fast with their signs. sign language is a comfort to you, in those days. you don’t have to vocalise anything, hear the scratch of your voice. sometimes kirishima comes in when haru’s there, and you have to relearn words all over again, your voice cracking with them, the look of concern on his face worse, somehow, than his instant need to pretend that everything is okay, that he can smile both your way out of this new reality.

it’s probably here though that you finally see izuku again.^ like—you knew he was avoiding you. izuku’s not subtle, lmao, and neither are his friends. they’ve all been covering for him because they love him, and in some ways you suspect they see his grief as—deeper as yours, maybe. a different beast, but one they have to take more seriously. but maybe izuku comes late one afternoon as you’re unboxing a delivery; there’s the scuff of shoes at the door, the hesitation of someone pausing and even though you know, you know it’s not katsuki, it can’t be anymore, you glance up—hope tugging you along until you see izuku’s hesitant face. the way his shoulders drop, when your face does.

(and this is why he hasn’t come sooner. this is why the last you saw of him was in the stiff black suit at katsuki’s funeral, a room between the two of you. because you know you hurt each other—just by standing in the same place and wishing things were different.)

“I’m—I’m sorry,” he stammers, and you could play pretend and say you don’t know what for—but you do know. It’s why you don’t flinch when he drops to his knees, when he touches the cool concrete floor of your shop with his forehead, his arms folded in apology. “I’m sorry,” he says again, muffled, and you think you can hear his tears.

Your heart is thundering in your chest. You have a hundred thousand different things you could say, that you want to say. Instead, after a long long moment when you finally blink and come to your senses and realise you can’t have the symbol of peace bowing to you on the floor of your shop, grovelling, that you move to him, silent, a few flowers still in hand as you kneel before him, too.

Your face is wet with tears, though you don’t realise it at the time. You can’t let Izuku grovel like this, though. Katsuki would hate it. You hate it too, no matter what you’re feeling right now. You go to touch his shoulder, maybe, but instead your hand curls into the material of his collar and he shudders and now you can hear the sobs he’s choking back and you can’t, you can’t—

You curl over him, your face in his soft hair, shuddering with him as you whisper it’s alright, please don’t, Izuku he would hate this, please, please don’t, i forgive you—

(they’re all the same sort of things you’ll whisper to him later on, when his tears collect in your collarbone, his hands bruising your hips. after months spent in a dark, cold underground shelter somewhere. when you’re so lonely and scared and all you have is yourself and this man who comes home—home! like this is a home!!—to you whenever he can. It’s alright. Please don’t. Izuku, he would hate this. Please. Please don’t.

I forgive you.)

* well, idk if you can ever rightly call being kidnapped and shoved into a basement against your will platonic, but, details.

^ it’s probably here at the store that Izuku makes his move, eventually. it’ll be just like the last time you got abducted—except it’s kirishima left standing in the ruins of your store, destroyed, his world falling apart as behind him, denki grips his shoulder tightly, wordless.

[rabbitbonesandsheabutter]

If you do requests at all, can you do a yandere longlegs oneshot? Like a lobg one...IM THIRSTY ✋🏻😩

this isnt really that long but i’m giving you two times dale jorked it creepy style.

tw - kind of somno, stalking, voyeurism, breaking in?? idk i think that covers it

———

Finding a window to get through had been the easiest part. Soundlessly making his way into your room not much harder. He’d already wandered aimlessly through your home when you weren’t there, leaving with a few souvenirs. But this time there was purpose to his visit. He wanted to see you, without you being able to step away when he got too close for comfort.

Standing in your doorway, he could see the gentle rise and fall of your chest from under the covers and had to steel himself to not wake you. As he stepped closer, his breath hitched at the view of your sleeping face, almost unable to control his excitement. Inching even closer with practiced ease, he knelt down to face you, wanting to take in as much detail as possible. The fine hairs dusting your skin, the light hum of your breathing, your closed eyes shifting. What could you be dreaming? Naively, he thought, he wished it was of him. The most you’d acknowledged him was a polite smile and short replies to whatever thought he blurted out when he saw you. Still more than anyone else had bothered in a long time. You had laughed once, more than just a courteous huff, he had made you properly laugh. Every night since he had lain awake thinking of ways to do it again.

And now he was here with you. This close, the smell of you was so much stronger than what lingered on his growing collection of your clothes. Ghosting his hands ever so slightly over the curve of your hip through your covers, he resisted the urge to claw into you and never let go. Instead, his other hand dropped down to palm at his growing bulge. Taking deep, slow breaths to steady himself, he let his hand travel up your torso and over your chest. His fingertips reaching up for your neck, where he was sure he could see your pulse.

You stirred abruptly. Huffing and readjusting in your sleep. He jumped back, hiding behind the doorframe again. Unsure how much more it would take to wake you, he pulled his fly back up reluctantly and crept out the way he came. After a miserable walk back to his parked car, he slid into the driver’s seat and reached into his pocket. The underwear you had worn today and tossed onto the top of your laundry - he smiled giddily as he brought it up to his face. Inhaling deeply, his other hand raced back down to his aching dick, making quick work of freeing himself. It didn’t take long for him to finish, thrusting erratically up into his fist and spilling across his knuckles. Taking a few last breaths, he took your underwear from his face and wiped the dashboard clean of his mess. Then he folded it neatly, putting it carefully in the glovebox. Key back in the ignition and music on, he pulled onto the road, already planning his next visit.

———

Through the crack in the door he watched you. Your head turned away, he could just see the side of your face and your outline under the blanket, but that was enough. The light from your TV casting a glow over you, dim enough for you to not make him out even if you did turn around.

Just like every other time he found himself in your house, he couldn’t help but let his hand wander to palm at himself, not willing to risk the sound of unbuckling his belt. Rocking his hips into his hand as he kept watching you. Images of you replacing his hand ran through his mind. Your mouth, your hands, anything. He thought of you standing from where you lay now, walking right up and dropping to your knees begging to take care of him, wanting to make him feel good.

Still on your sofa, you giggled at something on the screen and he cursed himself for missing what caused it. Biting down on his free hand to keep quiet, he pressed his palm down firmer, ignoring the sting of friction. The hours he’d spent hiding while you went through your at evening routine meant he was already close. After all that time waiting for release even this felt overstimulating, tears streaking down his face. Your face turned ever so slightly more towards him, he could make out your smile. As much as he adored it, he couldn’t help but imagine wiping it off your face. Gripping your hair and making you watch him come apart, showing you the effect you had on him. Watching your mouth fall open while he fucked you and hearing you cry out for more, tears streaked down your face while you beg for him. That was enough to send him reeling, the tang of his blood in his mouth as he curled in on himself and bit down harder. Taking in slow stuttering breaths in an attempt to stay silent, when could stand he leant back against the wall out of sight. Pretending that instead of your cold hallway, he was curled up with you under your blanket.

After a short while you rose from your spot and shuffled along to your room. Creeping out of your way, he couldn’t help but grin as he watched your sleepy face from the other end of the corridor. From a few feet away he carefully took note of all your bedtime rituals, and finally came to rest against your doorway when the lights were all off. He waited patiently until your breath deepened and he was sure you were asleep to step lightly up to your bed, kneeling to bring himself closer to your face. Reaching out slowly, he touched his fingertips to your face, gliding over the skin of your cheek gently. So soft under his calloused hands, he suppressed a laugh, almost not believing where he was despite this being far from his first visit. Far from even his first time touching you. Lost tracing patterns lightly across any skin he could reach.

Minutes turned to hours without you stirring, he thought you must know his touch by now. Still kneeling despite the growing ache in his knees, he inched even further forward. Holding his breath and laying his head lightly on the space next to your head, eyes blown wide as he watched for any sign of you waking. After several more moments of calm, he relaxed into the softness of your pillow, ignoring the strain of the odd angle. Too wrapped up in you to care about anything but your soft breaths fanning over his face. Once again he lost track of how long he stayed frozen like that, deep in the fantasy of waking up to you beside him, getting to climb in next to you every night. Until the first sounds of birds started, and the room began to lighten. He peeled himself from your pillow and stood, taking one last long look at you before he crept away once more.

———

Hours later, as you rifled through your post, you noticed a small plain envelope unsealed with no address. You pulled out a card, the faint waft of a floral perfume coming with it. On the front was a cherub surrounded by hearts, opening it up, you found a string of carefully inscribed but unreadable symbols.

[cozymochi]

With all this Nyoka talk, are you lowkey tired? I fear with all these Nyoka asks might become annoying to you. 💔 Or when there’s too many asks about a specific thing or person.

WAAAAA?? If anything, I have the exact opposite fear. Everyone else being annoyed by seeing him so much from me.

I bring it up and allude to it sporadically, but It’s not like I’m unaware that the majority of people would much much rather have me go back to posting art about the canon cast. It certainly has more mass appeal.

Though if anyone followed my bluesky or looked at my kofi they would see all the WIPs of that exact thing. But, that’s not my main, so it probably doesn’t count, does it? (I don’t really like posting WIPs on main.)

It’s a very VERY high privilege to be able to indulge in a non-canon character at all, more specifically at the behest of other people asking for it. Like, genuinely.

I never really bought the idea from a few people calling me “big” or “popular” given I never really talk to anybody off my own posts (sans IRL friend), and the only art that ever seems to truly pop off and cycle everywhere that I can see tends to only happen when when Malleus or Leona is in it (mainly the former, regardless of the quality im disatisfied with). In a way, I still don’t fully buy it.

Those two are already popular with built in fanbases, so that’s a given.

But then Nyoka dropped and he’s popping off to nearly their levels and I haven’t gone too long without somebody asking about him or his mouth

SO THAT’S A WAKE UP CALL.. Something that made me go “huh. maybe they were right about me…” or at least… Something happened with him specifically that clicked for whatever reason. I MEAN. MY TOP POSTS SPEAK FOR ME.

LOOOOK! He’s playing with the big boys??

One oF MY FRIENDS WROTE AN “X READER” FIC UNDER MY NOSE. AND IT DID WELL ouTside of our goofy asses. ThAT’S INSANEEE

Understand this though, while I do have the autonomy to not answer asks about him— If I was really tired of it, I wouldn’t keep answering. I answer so long as I receive them.

Cuz, Idk if anyone’s noticed, but I’m not the best at bringing up my own stuff on my own accord. If I do, there was a high chance I was pushed into it by somebody else, or I might have liked the art a little more than I should have to the point I think giving it it’s own post is justified.

I’ve always had Tia as my defacto Prefect, but she’s the Prefect. A character that can be anything and anybody (and almost everyone has one). And I never really brought her up willingly too much. I don’t even bother making her cameo in scenarios where she could be there. I just use Grim as a stand in. I don’t even post or talk about 80% of her junk out of nervousness and fear.

I AM GRATEFUL AND THANKFUL FOR ALL THE ASKS I RECEIVE AND THE ENTHUSIASM 💖 I know I’m not the best at showing it since I haven’t ascribed to the keyboard smash + crazy image in a while, but i AMMMM. I go feral.

(ALSO bear in mind, I had Nyoka for almost two years before he ever went public. 😭👍 I think we’re good.)

…Still, with all that said: The self-inflicted-but-possibly-justified pressure still exists. With every new ask I answer about Nyoka or some other non-canon guy, I feel like the others who only really followed me for the more canon specific art are certainly getting annoyed watching it unfold and are just waiting for me to get back to it.

(Again, haven’t stopped. Bluesky/Kofi.)

I mean for example, I doubt it was intentional, but I got one reminder the other day when I was asked about updating a Leona WIP after that whole gacha pull bet thing.

That shows me somebody is waiting for something not Nyoka related. Though, given the nature of the material, they’ll probably be disappointed (its not even all that big). I took it in stride the other day but upon reflection it’s starting to gnaw at me. I only really posted the WIP to break up all the Nyoka stuff so people don’t get upset. Otherwise, I would have kept it under wraps properly.

So, I can only imagine what others are not saying.

And if I’m paranoid enough (which i am), it’ll only be a matter of time before somebody hits a wall and decides that enough is enough on my behalf. Hype backlash is a real thing, and while I don’t know when it’s coming, It’s inevitable. So, if anything I should slow down.

But then I get left in a position where I’m not posting any art at all.

Granted, not posting enough art and especially ones that are more generalized gnaws at me all the time regardless.

Getting Nyoka or other non-canon character stuff is honestly the most freedom I can get. There’s a lot less stakes involved, and I just have an easier time. I do genuinely like thinking about them!!! I LikE DRAWING THEM!! Again, being prompted by OTHERS IS especially a high privilege to be able to do.

Don’t get it twisted though (no pun intended), I also enjoy the canon cast and I put them above my own junk any day. Heck most are easier to draw than the non-canon freaks, but... Idk I do more self comparison to other artists more than people think, and it mostly comes down to me believing that I can’t draw them that well nor can convey anything high-concept or even LOW concept about them in an appealing enough way.

There’s just sooo many other artists to choose from. And better stuff at that. It’s also why I don’t fully believe people if they value me above other ones. With the stuff I put out, it doesn’t make any sense as to why that would be the case.

And while I am trying to compile a bunch of work *cough kofi/bluesky cough*, I get stumped really quickly while working on them. There’s a bar of quality I want, and with each characters built-in fanbases and stans it’s very taxing trying to not potentially let anyone down.

With Nyoka and the others no such bar exists. He and the others fall into a category that most people don’t put much stake in to begin with.

I think it’s a different beast when following an artist who sticks to drawing or writing about the same canon character all the time. There’s a niche for it and a built in audience who wants that, so nobody is going to get up in arms. (Well except maybe a bad apple who gets territorial about two cakes.)

As opposed to a non-specific artist/writer who suddenly posts an OC and for the next few weeks that’s seemingly all they post about, even if it is mostly from asks. There’s nothing backing that up. They came for cakes, why tf is this chef making stir fry?!

Yeah, some people may be cool with it since it keeps being asked for and I like making it. But, sooner or later someone is going to go “when are you go back to baking cakes? Wasnt this the whole point?”

TL;DR: NO, IM NOT TIRED OF HIM. I don’t exactly lose drive for my own little batch of chaos and I’m super thankful for it 💜💜💜💜💜 But I do have a very real fear of others getting annoyed by it.

Even this ask has me raising my eyebrow a little. I can’t imagine anyone being tired talking about their own stuff.

…But I can imagine the opposite.

And I know I get this reply constantly with “Oh just post what u want it’s your blog” I can only give a look that I can’t translate into text. 💃

[wanderingblindly]

The new October Birds chapter is lovely (and you are too for writing such a gorgeous fic)!

Any behind the scenes information you want to share about it? Sentences that didn't make it in or oscar POV moments that can't get told from the fic's POV?

- Snippet Anon

(october birds)

oh my goodness thank you so much darling! Chapter two was one that I initially felt very little confidence in (I think I sent it to like, three people to see if the vibe matched the first one even remotely), so the response it's garnered has absolutely floored me. I literally cannot say thank you enough 😭💖

There were fewer things that stumped me in ch2 than in ch1, thank fuck lol. But there's one scene that I really did struggle with, and one key Oscar moment I haven't seen anyone comment on yet!

New Years

Ok so when I was originally picturing the new years scene, I wanted it to be with small fireworks on the beach. Then I rubbed my two (2) braincells together and realized that A) Perth is literally not near the beach at all for the sake of a midnight trip B) fireworks are super illegal in Tas. So that was very fun for me.

That then posed a big question of 'where the fuck are they meant to go?'.

At first I considered seeing if they could reasonably find a viewpoint of the Launceston or Hobart fireworks shows, since those are close enough to be feasible. But then I was like 'fuck, Lando had the anxiety moment about not going into the city, idk if there's really a place that would be isolated enough AND in view of the fireworks'.

After spending a lot of time on google maps, I found a viewpoint that was quite lovely: Max's Lookout in Nunamara, Tasmania. It's about a 40 minute drive away, and I could embellish the details to sell The Fantasy that I was picturing -- delightful!

In terms of the actual Event, the parts that I rewrote the most were the details around Oscar offering Lando his hand. It was difficult to both keep the "swept up in the moment" feeling and emphasize the tentativeness, the hesitation. I struggled a lot with figuring out how Lando would feel in that moment, especially because he'd technically already touched Oscar's hand before in Feast -- was this different enough for him to be affected? Was it similar enough to feel familiar? Was it scary, exciting, unremarkable?

Oh, and I had to google how to open a beer bottle with another bottle + your heel; I knew it was possible, I've just never had beer before lol.

Oscar and Lando's "Anxiety Attack"

Oscar's eyes flick overhead, taking in the fiery orange blossoms hanging from above. His under-eyes are more hollow than usual, the blue tint almost leaning purple in the early-morning light.

Oscar heard Lando in the kitchen.

In a different version of the scene, I actually had Oscar come out and try to help Lando, but then I realized it was far too early. Chapter 2 Lando is only beginning to peek out of his shell -- any intense display of emotion embarrasses him, he tries to talk himself out of them and pretend "it's fine" or that it's something he'll make himself "get over". Having Oscar come in at that point would have been mortifying for Lando, and waaaaaay more vulnerable than he's willing to be.

Of course I could decide that as the writer, but what was Oscar thinking about?

I have a really strong image of Oscar waking up to the sound of Lando's door closing, or maybe him falling against the oven door more forcefully than he thought (Lando's not the most reliable narrator at that point). And as Oscar jumps to go see what's happened, he hears it -- Lando's sobbing, his panic.

His hand would hover over the door handle.

At this point, based on what Oscar knows, Lando's clinically standoffish. He's clearly upset, but he doesn't want to say why -- even though he didn't deny his assertion that he wants someone to ask.

But would going and asking now be too much too soon? Too little too late? If he makes the wrong decision now, is he going to lose whatever opening Lando's worked open thus far?

He chooses not to go because he doesn't want to risk over stepping, but he can't sleep once he's heard it; Oscar gets as little sleep that night as Lando, and that's why he was awake so early. He heard him leave for his run.

There were a few specific things I cut from this chapter that I miiiiiight repurpose later, so I'll keep those to myself, just in case :)

[futuristicnightmaremilkshake]

Uhhh session 7 Ren and Martyn thing

“Martyn?”

His name comes up in the night on the brink of a dream or a nightmare, Ren can hardly differentiate anymore. His name comes up often like this. It is almost always followed by…

“I don’t go by that name anymore”

That sentence never fails to send a shiver down his spine. Soon he’ll wake up in a cold sweat looking around for the one who spoke those words only to find him gone.

“Oh…? What… what do you go by now?”

Ren knows the answer, he’s thought about this interaction, his last with Martyn a million times prior.

“It number 3” 

And Ren wakes up. It’s terrifying. On one hand a dream that he can see Martyn at all again but a nightmare as it’s not the one he knew. A number… a placement in the sick game that’s all Martyn… his Martyn deformed into. He hated that. He wanted to keep close the memory of the man he’d built a house… a home with. Shared company with by their lake… planted sunflowers with and ran through the tall bamboo forest, created tree houses and woke up just to greet each other from across the way. Martyn’s was the first face he’d see every morning. But he couldn’t scarcely hold onto those memories. No. What was left burned on his mind was the image of- not Martyn that thing Grian had brought him back as. It wasn’t him it couldn’t be. His Martyn would never speak like that, never try to… His mind had gone blank after that interaction, he barely even felt it when Mumbo finally did him in but he could see Martyn watching. Not even bothering to try and stop it from happening. There was no recognition nothing left of his old self in those cold eyes. Martyn had pretty blue eyes. Like the sky on a sunny day with no clouds or the lake they’d named after him, but they were devoid of life… of color… a dull, dead, grey. It was those eyes that had been the last he’d seen of Martyn. There was nothing left of him by the time Ren respawned and now there never would be… Was this how Martyn felt when he’d left? It pained Ren to think he’d had been the one to inflict this kind of ache on Martyn and suddenly he felt guilty for any life he’d partaken in ending thus far, knowing his fellow players may soon feel this way as well… His only true ally… But no they were more than that, they’d always been more than that. No time or distance even death couldn’t separate that, not for them… never for him. Ren clenched his fist in resolve… he needed a way to see Martyn again, it wasn’t a question he had too. He’d find a way, if he had to kill every last player with bare fists alone he swore he’d do it. For Martyn he’d do anything.

…

Yeah I have feelings and opinions and I wrote a thing it’s not really long enough to be an actual fanfic so I guess you lot get to have it on here anyway I hope Ren wins now, this is not at all proof read so oops don’t mind that and I also only saw Martyns final episode and some clips of Ren’s but not the full thing so sorry if this is inaccurate this is like a what happens after and this is inspired by other ppls post about post session 7 Ren angst stuff so here drabble or something idk do with it what you will

[gabessquishytum]

Hellooooooo

Alright I got a weird AU idea not sure what to call it but it involves one of our favorite things ✨pregnant dream✨ 

So Dream decides he would like to retire and become an immortal human like Hob. one problem though, he’s got no heir to the dreaming and he can’t use Daniel (for plot reasons idk) so Hob hearing “heirs” has something light up in his old peasant brain and he’s like “what if we make em the old fashion way?” Dream agrees under the condition that if the child is not fit to usher the dreaming they will keep having children until one of them is ready and willing. 

The first child is Determination of the Endless (I mean he’s Hob’s kid after all) they also give their children human names because they will spend about equal amounts of time in the waking as the dreaming (and Dante looks less suspicious on a birth name than Determination does) the next kid is Deception of the Endless (hob blames his mercenary days for that one) he’s a really sweet kid though, they name him Dimitri, (might as well stick to a theme at this point) they learn that the children have developed their own realms albeit smaller than their older Endless family members. Then something happens. Delight is born, this reassures them that a new being can take on an old endless moniker and Auntie Delirium is happy to show Delia (Delight) the ropes. They get another sweet docile baby girl and are surprised to learn she’s Destruction (it makes more sense in her toddler years) her name is Daphne. Than Hope is born. (This is ENTIRELY Hob’s Fault) Hob is a little confused as to why she is the only endless without a D at the start of her function. Then it’s time to name her. 

“I mean we could just call her Hope, it’s a human girl’s name and it would be one less name to remember.” Hob chirps cuddled up with dream and the new baby who is the spitting image of Hob.

“Hmmm” Dream rumbles. 

“I was thinking she doesn’t need to follow the tradition of a D human name.” He says shifting closer to Hob.

“Really? Do you have any suggestions?”

Dream hums in response like he hasn’t been planning this for the past nine months. 

“I was considering perhaps…Roberta?” 

Hob gasps softly. “Really, you want to name one of the little ones after me?”

“Look at her, she has your light, Hob”

Hob and Roberta become thick as thieves after that. A nearly inseparable father-daughter duo. Hob and Rob (although she prefers Robbie) 

Then the sixth baby arrives, Dante is in his twenties at this point, (they had the kids farther apart so each of them could get proper attention but still close enough for a proper sibling bond)

This baby to everyone’s shock is Dream of the Endless, at least dream of the endless jr.

“Hob!” Dream calls from his bed.

“Yes darling?” Hob immediately runs into the room, he’s at dreams beck and call (I mean he ALWAYS is but especially after a new baby is born) 

“What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

Dream beckons for Hob to climb into bed with him and hands him the baby. He’s an absolute carbon copy of dream.

“Oh, he looks just like his father,”

“That means he’ll have the attitude of his Papa” Dream retorts.

Hob sticks his tongue out, “you love me.” 

“Now what’s this one’s function?”

“Dream,” 

Hob stares at his husband in awe, “you mean this is it? You’ve got a proper heir now? Aw, I was hoping to at least get four more hoblings out of you,”

Dream snickers, “just because I have an heir doesn’t mean I want to stop having children, Hob Gadling,”

Hob lights up, “you mean it?” 

Dream nods, “besides it’s quite odd to only have six new endless, it should be seven like the original,”

“Seven? I can do that!” 

They nickname the baby Drowsy of the Endless so no one gets confused, his human name is Dorian.

“No Dream I’m not putting Morpheus the second on a birth certificate that’ll get us flagged for sure” 

The final child, the seventh endless is…

“Danger”

“You’re kidding,”

“No this child is Danger of the Endless”

“You just ran out of D words tell me his real function you git,” 

“This is your son, Danger, Hob Gadling”

Hob sighs, “We just got all of Destruction’s stuff cleaned up, you’re telling me I have to parent a toddler whose natural tendency is towards danger?” Hob groans.

“Isn’t that all toddlers?” Dream smirks as Hob buries his face in his hands. 

They name him Damien and he is a proper little hellion but the perfect edition to their little family and the next generation of Endless.

I just think the giant family dynamic is fun. I’d write a fic but I’m retired from fanfic writing. Thought I’d drop this off as an another Hob and Dream have a large family au.

-🦎

The Hoblings 😭😭 I'm absolutely in love with this whole au!!! I love the idea of a new generation of Endless, its so lovely.

Imagine their interactions with Dream's siblings! Ollie would be so good with the new Destruction and Danger, and Desire would have great fun with Deception. I bet Delirium would be so overjoyed to meet the new Delight. It takes a village to raise a child and it will certainly take the whole family to raise a gaggle of half human, half Endless kiddos.

Dream and Hob are wonderful parents, which is to say - they fuck up a lot and the house is always a mess, but they love their kids so fiercely. Hob and Roberta and Determination are an absolute disaster trio. Dream and little Drowsy spend most of their time silently judging the shenanigans.

I just love the idea of the new generation of Endless getting this loving, amazing childhood that Dream and his siblings never really had. Of course things aren't perfect, but there's so much love in the house. Hob is so proud of Dream and their kids, and he feels so grateful to get this second chance at a family. Watching their children grow and become the best versions of themselves is a reward he knows he doesn't deserve, but he's endlessly thankful to the universe anyway <3

[s3cr3tjuic3]

OOO. CAN- CAN YOU LINK REGRESSOR HEADCANONS? SPECIFICALLY BOTW LINK IF YOUR ABLE TO???

i can sure try!!

i never finished totk but heard a lot of spoilers so some of the game might get mixed up. and this is all post ganon fight, pre totk anything (to my knowledge)

~

~

~

~

~

R!BOTW!Link

-Link bounces between 1-4 and 7-10. Link normally regresses between 1-4, and he vent regresses between 7-10.

-Link talks with sign language (i wont specify Japanese or American bc idk either one) since he's mute. When he's in his younger headspace, his sign is harder to read and usually faster since he's very hyperactive. When he's in his older headspace, his sign is more clear, but heavy with emotion, based on how he's feeling.

-He's a pretty bubbly toddler. He loves getting dirty, getting into dirt and mud, but not for long. Once the mud starts to dry, he gets irritated. He's has a hard time keeping still and not climbing on tall things like cliffs and friends. He loves just running around and pretending to fight monsters with sticks or wooden swords (as long as he doesnt hit anything). Occasionally, he'll convince his friends to duel with him and he does not let his younger mind stop his strength. A duel is a duel.

-He is impossible to put to bed. The only way you can get him to sleep easily is if he is running around all day. He cant sit still very long for stories, but soft music is able to lull him to sleep pretty well. All of his friends have taken up singing for when he pops in while little.

-He loves playing with his friends when he visits. He convinces Sidon to go swimming with him. Link and Riju run around and play fight. Link drags Yunobo around Goron city. Yunobo nervously goes along with whatever Link suggests. And with Tulin and Link, they play at the Flight range a lot. Eventually though, Zelda bans Link from paragliding without an adult present after too many sprained ankles.

-Zelda is his main caregiver, although she's more laid back and sometimes finds it hard to keep up with Link. Link always listens to her, why would he ever go against her? Unless, of course, if she's trying to get him to nap or go to bed. He's very independent when in his younger headspace so Zelda can just keep an eye on him. Between his own preference and his lack of regard for himself when upset, he needs more attention when in his older headspace.

-When Link vent regresses, he's usually very upset. He's either really angry or really sad. this is the only time he's sitting still when regressed. He tends to get stuck in his older headspace for a few days at a time, depending on what made him vent regress in the first place. A lot of times, he just stays in bed because he cant process his emotions properly. Zelda is extra attentive on the days he spends in bed. This is also when he thinks too much about his amnesia and his past. At least, what bits and pieces he can still remember. His amnesia is still slowly getting better since defeating Ganon.

-He also has frequent nightmares when in his older headspace. It's always 50% chance if he wakes Zelda up or not. Either by his sleep mumbling or when he jolts up, rubbing his eye, trying his best to un-sear the images from the back of his eyelids. If she doesnt wake up while he's asleep, he'll either wake her up, or leave her be to wander around wherever they're staying. Zelda often finds him sitting on roofs and small cliffs watching the stars by the time she notices that he's gone.

-When he's vent regressed, Zelda tries to play games with him. Card games, board games, etc. mostly to keep him out of his head. It doesn't always work but he's very thankful for her trying. When those distractions dont work, Link gets her to cuddle with him while they talk, which turns into her talking and him just listening to her voices.

-Zelda also struggles with her own issues, and often tries to push them aside when taking care of Link. Link tries to push her to take time for herself constantly. She's slowly getting better. Among her issues are abandonment issues; She constantly has to get reassurance from Link when big. And when Link is regressed and notices her signs of when she's having a lot of feelings over her abandonment issues, he reassures her and gives her lots of hugs and tries to include her in whatever game he's playing somehow. Even if she's just pretending to be a commentator from the sideline or taking pictures with her Sheikah Slate.

-All in all, Link is very loved and cared for, big or little. And he and Zelda are working on healing together.

[elvhenmage]

thoughts on carver, everett, and malcom that i'm transferring over from twitter in an attempt to also preserve my ramblings here 👍🏼

tweeted 8/9/24

spent my entire shower thinking about how everett never truly got a chance to mourn carver because she had to be the one in charge and take care of leandra and bethany while they grieved, and carver was before kirkwall so she didn't even have any friends to go to. she had to be the strong one and because of it she couldn't properly mourn the loss of her little brother, and i know that rocky relationship is going to knock the fucking wind out of her someday when she's thinking about him again in the wake of leandra's death. reminiscing about the family to anders who never really got to know any of them except for bethany, a little

carver always felt like he was living in hawke's shadow, even more so for everett personally i feel because he already couldn't compete with bethany being a mage, but now he can't even make a name for himself as a warrior/soldier because his big sister's always there. idk the specifics of their time in cailan's army but i imagine everett was by his side constantly because she was worried about him

i think malcolm raised her to be the man of the house because he wanted his family taken care of in the event he died or was taken away, and that absolutely messed everett up as a kid. it's why she doesn't let herself cry in front of the party and why she lies about how she's feeling or otherwise keeps it to herself. but because malcolm raised her that way, she mothers the twins a lot and where i think bethany appreciates it, carver hates it because he thinks hawke is being patronizing

it's such a shame they were never able to reconcile that. i'm sure everett's haunted by the fact that it always seemed like carver didn't like her and she could never figure out why until they were older but by that point the damage had been done and she didn’t know how to undo it, especially not after malcolm’s death, so they sort of just sat in limbo

she's also haunted by the fact that she'll never get to tell him how much she loved him and how proud she was of him and how she knows malcolm felt the same. one of her biggest fears/regrets is the idea that carver died thinking he was unloved or out of place in his family

another thing is that i think that the reason carver would nail bethany's braid to the bed when they were children stems from him seeking attention from malcolm, whether good or bad. idk what his relationship with leandra was like but we know from carver that he felt neglected by malcolm (though i can’t find the dialogue so idk what he says specifically)

and there’s also my personal canon being that carver is the spitting image of leandra where everett got malcolm’s hair and bethany got his eyes, so he doesn’t even have that tying them together. the only thing carver has from malcolm is that malcolm named him. bethany was his little mage and everett was the family guardian, and that left carver feeling like the odd kid out even when malcolm trained him similar to the way he trained hawke iirc. and he was never able to move on from feeling like the black sheep and resenting his sister(s) because he died so young :(

[onmyyan]

Currently trying to overcome writer's block for this writing trade I'm doing so I had to go back to the delmonts and boy howdy- hear me out. I had the perfect idea for a shared! darling

Free use kink. Like, it's probably a lot of work to divvy out the times and the days that the boys would get with you. It's made even more complicated since I'm sure the boys would all agree that darling's wishes come first. So while they each have their days where they spend time with the reader doing cute domestic things or just fluffy content in general- the nsfw is a little more chaotic

It's really a- if darling lets you do it you can go for it. And if the darling has been raised around these boys their whole life and is, by now, used to all their affections and shenanigans just takes it all in stride. After all, these are very affectionate boys we're dealing with here.

Just imagine it, waking up and then heading to the bathroom to shower and then Ricky's sliding on in to have some fun before he has to get to work and get everything ready for the day. He grabs a coffee and dips after a small bout of affection, leaving reader to clean themselves again.

It's a bit of a lazy morning so aside from Cas cooking in the kitchen, no one's there. You go to help make breakfast and suddenly shorts are being pulled down and he's taking his darlin over the counter. Or, even better, you get to go on the ride of your life while he feeds you breakfast.

Cas then heads off to tend to the gardens and grocery shop, leaving you to hang with Gabe who's returning from a morning workout/run. Probably doesn't actually have to show up at the shop until there's something to fix so he plays some video games while you watch. You tell him all about how your morning has been and now he's feeling very left out and really needy. Just hoists you up and bounces you while he's playing. If this is a regular thing there's no real hesitation, just a sudden tug and bam.

Groans when Ricky texts him, leaving you a mess in the living room before he heads off, though he's always certain to give you a smooch goodbye. Will carry you to your room if you ask.

The twins are probably the last to wake, stirring sometime in the afternoon due to whatever it is those two get up to late at night. Partying, murder, arson, idk. They don't even have to ask- they know just from looking at their darling about what's happened. Clearly, they've been cheated of a very happy morning.

But you certainly want to make it up to them right?? It's only fair!

Getting sandwiched between the twins for the next few hours might not have been what you had planned, but it's not unwelcome. The two of them take turns and behave if just to spare you the extra exhaustion of having to juggle between the two of them. Once they're finished they cuddle up to you and take care of your every need till they get called away to the shop or until their other plans come up.

I dunno how you feel about it, but I don't find the mental image of the reader being all surrounded in the conversation pit by the brothers to be an awful sight. Just imagine, it's a real real busy day. Cas has breakfast wrapped and on the table for you. Little snacks and treats from the twins scattered everywhere for you. A note from Ricky explaining and apologizing that the boys couldn't be there to wake you up. Gabe grumpy because he's too busy to even leave a message or thing behind like the rest of the brothers. Yeah, he's that busy.

You just chill in the house for the whole day, watching tv or reading or playing games. Whatever burns the time and keeps your attention. Then all the boys come home very apologetic and very needy. They want to make it up to you and before you know it every facet of you is being used one way or another. Barely any space or time to think, just, all you can do is focus on what they're giving you and taking it in all in stride- metaphorically and phyically.

God. And if darling really wanted to try their luck or maybe its been one too many days of this treatment and they've become very well trained they just go around bottomless. Makes it all easier that way. It also serves as the biggest "take me now" sign. Darling at that point WILL be grabbed and will be thoroughly ravished.

Thank you for listening to my TedTalk and now having finished this, my writer's block is over and I will disappear to try and finish this piece I'm working on lol no more procrastinating!!

the bark that left me at this was....something lmfao

but fr this is so tasty??? and also super likely in the shared darling universe, omfg there's nowhere in that house you haven't had your guts rearranged in.