#if that makes any sense then i would give my ocs some but again just Not good at tattoo designs

[matoitech]

ppl who can draw their ocs w complicated tattoos all the time r gods strongest soldiers. even being able to design a cool tattoo in the first place is hard af. all my ocs would have awesome tattoos if it was that easy but i would never draw them again is the problem bcuz id be like wow i don’t rly want to draw a complicated tattoo today. and that’s another major reason why a lot of my main ocs don’t have tattoos 🫶

[eldritch-spouse]

One of your stronger demon oc’s: hey babe you interested in trying a new kind of foreplay? It’s called demonic possession

Their match: *looking confused* you already possess me though?

[Already talked about Livius with this, so why not good old Santi? Fem reader.]

The incubus laughs.

It's that same old rich, deep noise that had your knees weak the first time you heard it, and still manages to make you warm up briefly. Santi gives you a calm, lidded and loving look, it feels just the tiniest bit patronizing.

" Mm, that I do. "

He swirls his glass of sangria idly. You know he's not going to drink, its only purpose is to match your own set of cutlery, to make it feel as if Santi is having dinner with you, when he's really just keeping you company as you fulfill your basic human needs. You can't really complain about this though, the demon goes out of his way to order excellent dishes for you, and he never fails any of the "human meals in a day", as he put it.

" However- " The world rolls off his mischievous tongue. " I was using the word in a literal sense, love. "

You choke on the steak. " E- Excuse me? "

His head tilts, some sort of realization coming over that pale face when he studies your reaction. " No no, excuse me- I should have explained this to you better. "

Santi steeples his fingers for a moment, pauses, then plays with the glass some more, tracing its golden rim.

" You're familiar with the concept of demonic possession, right? " He starts, tone slightly more serious.

A shiver crawls up your spine, not exactly the most pleasant kind. " Y... Yes. Isn't it something horrific though? It's supposed to hurt! And deform someone's body! It can kill me! Why would you- "

" Easy. " Santi calls, watching your rambling get out of hand.

" Santi, that's insanity! You want to make me crawl the walls and start chanting things?! That arouses you? I don't think my body can- "

" Love. "

The more forceful tone silences you, but by no means is your apprehension quelled. Your appetite seems to fade in the face of possible danger.

There's a sigh from the monster in front of you.

" And this is why your silly little horror movies keep causing a divide in our society... "

That catches your attention.

A less inviting frown sits on Santi's face. " Possession gets an incredibly harmful reputation from your precious Exorcist movies. Each one more ludicrous than the last. "

It's your turn to frown. " Don't sit there and tell me that those things don't happen, Santi! Possession is done for all sorts of things and I'm not stupid enough to buy a lie that it's all sunshine and rainbows... "

You expect him to get even more upset, but instead, the incubus shakes his head, setting the glass down to look you in the eyes. " But it doesn't have to be that way, love. "

He continues when all you do is cross your arms.

" You've seen a hundred movies about demons with ill intent tarnishing the bodies of surfacers... But you've never seen a movie about a demon possessing the person they love, have you? "

Silence. He lets those words splay onto the table like a winning hand in a tense game of cards.

And, truth be told, you have nothing to counter that with. Because he's right. You have never heard of such a thing as possession between lovers.

" ... That's real? "

" More than real. " The high-ranker responds softly. " It's one of the most intimate thing you can do with an infernal partner. " Some of that earlier playfulness shines again. " And it can be so fun. "

You gulp, looking to the side. " It's dangerous. "

" Not if done properly. " Santi's quick to cut in. " A calm, willing vessel and a strong emotional connection will make it a much smoother process than the painful spasms you're privy to in your Halloween hits... "

It seems he has an answer for everything.

" Not to mention, as the bearer of my mark, you already have a little bit of me in you. It wouldn't be your body's first contact with my essence. " He's back to tracing the rim of the bottle, smelling it briefly, sharp pupils watching the berries in it sway before studying you once more.

" Why... Why do you want to do this? " It still sounds strange to you.

The dark fiend is silent for a few seconds, then leans forward on the table, glass set back down so his chin can rest on the palms of his hands. A grin with more teeth than lips threatens to cleave his face.

" Because it gets me really hard. "

... Can't fault him for lack of honesty.

Clearing your throat, you take a sip of your drink so you can think of what to say next. You need to pick your words right or this conversation will escalate to Santi playing with himself at the table.

" I could guess as much. "

" You're still hesitant. " He points out, piercings jingling as he tilts his head.

" I guess... What I'm more worried about is, how long it'll last. What you're going to do. What... What're the terms? "

His brows raise. " Treating this like a deal? How clever of you! Alright, here are my terms. "

Santi straightens, and although his smile is endlessly lascivious and wanton, he speaks clearly and slowly.

" I want to possess your delicious body for three days and three nights. During that time, you can hear, see, smell and feel everything that happens. You can talk to me and you will be given periodic control to perform certain tasks. "

He starts.

" I want to use it for both our pleasure, and I will be having sex with people I determine can service us well. I will not disclose to these people that you are possessed. " There's a beat of silence, before he adds something in forethought. " Although it may look as if some acts will be painful, you have my word that only pleasure will reach you. "

The meaning is not lost on you. " So you want to make me sleep with huge monsters? "

Santi winks, amused to be caught.

" That's relative, isn't it? What monster isn't huge compared to a human? Why I'm fairly huge to you. "

Your eyes roll. " What a charming non-answer. "

The incubus' jovial laugh is almost infectious.

" Come now, we'll see. "

It's your turn to make a move. Wide, blinking puppy eyes are cast towards the handsome demon. " Can't you even give me a pointer, it's my body after all... "

" Is that an agreement I hear? " He hums.

" Answer the question. "

Santi makes a quiet chuckle. " Very well. " Dark knuckles crack, he stares off for a moment, licking his chops. It's the signature look of a pervert looking forward to the near future.

" I have an idea as to who our first bedwarmer can be- "

" Of course you do. "

" I really do. " He snorts, the suave look breaking entirely for half a second where his amusement is so great he cannot help it. Santi waves for you to keep eating, waiting until you have a bite to continue.

" So, there's this bakery close enough, I've been meaning to take you there for a while now because I hear stuff there is divine. Anyhow, the guy in charge of it is really interesting. You know mindflayers? "

The very same bite you just took flies out your mouth, back onto the plate. The incubus stares at it for a second, then wheezes quietly. " Taking that as a yes. "

" Aren't mindflayers... Kind of reclusive? And evil? "

" Well, typically, yes- "

" And this one runs a bakery? "

" That's what I said- "

" What is he selling, brain croissants?! "

Santi barks out a laugh that nearly sends spittle across the table, having to look away from you, clutching his midsection and cackling like a madman.

" That's the thing- " The incubus clears his throat, nearly losing his composure again. " This one is very interesting. He's uhm- I'm not sure what the process is called, but he's a loner. Swore off people brains, or so he says. Trying to make an honest living! "

Slowly, you try once more to finish your meal. " And you want to fuck with him. "

" No... " The way his lips wobble at your deadpan is enough of a tell. " I want you to fuck him."

You make a face at the idea of laying with a mindflayer.

" Mhm, don't look at me like that. " Santi purrs.

Beneath the table, you feel his tail gently loop around your ankle, squeezing.

" Have you never thought about it? What can a lover with such long tentacles do to a cute little thing like you? How will he take advantage of your weak, simple-minded nature to do whatever he wants? "

When you gulp, it's not just because you need to swallow your current mouthful.

" Let me paint the scene, love. "

The incubus seems to be getting short of breath, the thrill of his own lurid fantasy forcing him to bite his lip and trace his own horn piercings with restless fingers.

" You're hardly dressed, the peaks of your nipples poking out a sad excuse of a top and your skirt so short the smallest brush might bare your cuntlips. You're hungry, we're hungry, so you walk into this cozy looking bakery to get yourself something sweet. Oh and many are the treats in that glass display, but the most appetizing of them all is the big man carrying a hot tray from the kitchen. He's tall, a peculiar mindflayer with a strange skintone and unusually thick build, his tendrils cascading longer than you'd expect. The look on his face is one of complete focus as his boots thump softly on the ground. Until he sees you, that is- "

Your attention to this little tale he's spinning is more rapt than you'd care to admit. Not that you need to, Santi can tell.

" His latest client. A human girl with this cute little smile and doe eyes. Mister Roland, you ask so sweetly, I've been told such wonderful things about your talent and pastries. You're oh so charming, so enticing, the poor baker can't deny the thoughts that course through his perverted mind. He wants to bend you over his counter, wants to spread you out before him and force your legs apart with his long nimble appendages. You'd make such a fine stress-reliever to rut into during breaks, wouldn't you? And you'd love getting stuffed full of illithid cock, right? You're begging for it after all... "

" God, Santi- " You mutter under your breath.

" Hm... Maybe all it takes is some simple conversation, letting those fantasies foment in his mind, building into a desire so pungent it would make even me crawl the walls. You tilt your head, kick your legs, lid your eyes and invite him away. He wouldn't mind a little interruption, surely. And then, oh then- With a little bit of my help, you'd turn him into a drooling beast. A species thought so impervious to all sorts of manipulations, all but barely able to think of anything except the taste of your pussy, the hug of it around his cock- He's lonely, lonelier than he's ever been now that he's on his own. You're probably the first thing he's going to fuck in a small eternity. Ideally, we get him here. Want to know why? "

Santi points to the bedroom, where a large mirror resides.

" I want to see him hold you up in those practiced hands and pound you into a pulp with his tendrils wrapped all around you, neck tits thighs, flicking your dirty little clit- Oh he may not eat your brain, but he's certainly going to fuck it out of you. "

" Holy shit, Santi- " You nearly yell.

" Fun, right? I told you. You just have to start believing in me a little more. " He's back to weirdly smelling the sangria.

The silence that follows is thick and heady, he lets you process the canvas he painted for you with a soft rumble of anticipation. You dare not look into Santi's eyes, because the depravity you'll find there will doubtlessly steal your will.

Fork and knife neatly arranged, you push the plate forward.

" I... I want a safeword. "

The way he lights up like a Christmas tree is impossible to miss.

" Of course, love. " The incubus sighs dreamily. " We can pick one tomorrow. Now, if you're done eating, let's get you to bed. "

" Because, after all, you're going to have a long couple of days ahead of you. "

[h0neybane]

someone's probably already done one of these by this point but uh.

GHIBLI-MOVIE-BASED TWST FAN SCHOOL!!

i actually tried designing a ghibli inspired fanschool when i first got into twst (four years ago... yeesh) but it never took off and i cant find any of that anymore so... I'M TRYING AGAIN!! i literally dont even have a school name yet but i'll add tidbits explaining my choices for the uniform under the cut! i'll tag this with the school name when i come up with it later edit 8/4: school name has been added in tags! edit 8/4 (again): school logo and first dorm have been added! edit 8/6: second dorm added!

im 1st going to explain my reasoning for the uniform design and then dive into my ideas for the school itself (dorms, atmosphere, location, etc) one of the biggest things i assosciate ghibli with is their nature + sky shots; such as these ones

so i wanted to include flora inside the design, hence the boa, laurel, and the little vine wrapping around the fem uniforms sock! adding onto that, i made the uniform a light blue striped with white to reference the skies. i also assosciate ghibli movies with peace, so the light blue adds onto that. the band on the arm is the same as nrc's; serves to show what dorm the student is in. the mage stone is located at the broach on the collar's bowtie. the gold around the gem is meant to look like a little flower!

moving onto the ideas i have abt the school...

going back the floral aspects of the uniform design, i think it'd be really cute and magical if they when they recieved the greenery (i'll refer to both the boa and laurel as 'greenery' collectively for simplicity sake) during their freshman year, there were no flowers yet. i think over time, as each student grows as a mage over their years at the school, flowers and plants bloom on the greenery to show their progress. maybe the flowers are specific to each student? i cant decided whether its instinct or they choose what flowers they want themselves

i feel like itd be fitting for the school to be located in a very secluded area. when i picture it in my head, the main building is smack dab in the middle of a flower-filled hillside that's right next to a forest... i'd like for it to be next to water too, but i'm not sure if the ocean would make sense geographically????? maybe it's just a big lake or waterfall inside the forest

i think the correct aesthetic for the school is 'romantic academia?' that's what pinterest is telling me anyway LOL. i think maybe the building is just shaped like a castle similar to nrc and rsa.. but then again i really like the idea of it being similar to Little Witch Academia's luna nova academy. we'll see

like nrc, i have seven dorms planned and theyre twisted from the most iconic ghibli films (according to google). in no particular order: howl's moving castle, princess mononoke, spirited away, ponyo, my neighbor totoro, kiki's delivery service, and castle in the sky. i might add or remove some of these! but theyre what i have for now. thats all i have for now, but feel free to give me any input/ideas (whether in the replies or my asks)! also if anybody wants to draw their oc in the uniform or anything i'd love to see it pls @ me...!!!!

[moodriingz]

Waiting Room pt. 2 | Q. Hughes

Summary | part one it’s Quinn’s turn to pine over the reader while she tries to move on, but can she do that when she’s still in love with Quinn?

Pairing | Quinn Hughes x reader, Elias Peterson x platonic!reader, reader x oc

Warnings | Angst?, mutual (but blind) pinning, cursing maybe 

Author's Note | Thank you so much for all of your support for part one! I feel so bad that it took me forever to write part two, but this semester really kicked my ass. I hope this lives up to the hype. I honestly just wanted to get it done to move on if that makes sense? I’m hoping to continue writing so feel free to send requests! I’ve also recently gotten into F1 so you can send requests for that too!! xx

Masterlist

“You were so right, me and Evan got along so well. He’s great. We’re going on another date too.” 

Quinn felt sick to his stomach. Not only had your friendship dwindled out of nowhere, but now you’re with someone else. Worst of all there was no explanation to why you pulled away. Quinn racked his brain for any reason why you would stop hanging out with him. 

Now he had to watch you give your attention to someone else. He was so jealous of this random guy. Quinn wondered what made Evan better than him? All he knew was that the bright smile and light blush you seemed to always have was for some other guy now. 

A couple of weeks passed and Quinn barely spends time with the team outside of practice and chooses to spend his time going through old photos and videos of the two of you or watching anything you’ve ever suggested to him. He’s halfway through one of your favorite movies when there’s a knock on his door. His heart flutters hoping it's you, but is immediately let down when he realizes that it's Elias and Brock at his door.

“What do you want,” He asks begrudgingly, leaving the door open as he returns to his couch.

“We wanted to make sure that you’re alive,” Elias said.

“Well now you know bye,” Quinn quips at them.

“Dude something is up with you and we’re not leaving until we find out,” Brock said.

“Is this about Y/N?” Elias asked.

“Fine yeah it’s about Y/N. I just really miss her,” Quinn admits after taking a deep breath.

“We used to talk almost everyday and that all stopped on the last road trip and now she’s seeing that new guy. I was finally going to ask her out and she just shut down.”

“Wait you were? You told me you didn’t see her that way and she overheard,” Elias says confused.

“She heard me? Why didn’t you say anything?” Quinn asks as his heart shatters all over again. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“She was so upset and I didn’t think I could change your mind. She had been pinning after you for months and you never did anything, so I just believed you,” Elias said with a shrug.

“I didn’t think she felt the same way so I was just putting my feelings aside because I cared more about our friendship,” Quinn says, putting his head in his hands. “I think I royally fucked up.”

“Maybe not, Y/N and Evan don’t seem super serious yet. You might be able to wiggle your way back in with her,” Elias says sitting down with Quinn.

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“Maybe bring her coffee? Start there and see what happens,” Brock suggests and Quinn just nods making a game plan to get his girl back.

The next morning he gets up early for practice to go pick up your coffee from the cafe you always go to. He knew where to go because the cafe printed their logo on their cups and he had plenty of time to take note of it. As he walked in he immediately recognized your silhouette waiting in line.

“Looks like you beat me to it today,” Quinn says walking up to you in line.

“Beat me to what?” You ask confused why after not talking to each other for a month he decided to come to your cafe.

“I was going to bring you coffee today,” He says awkwardly with a small smile on his face.

“Oh well you can still pay if you want,” You suggest as a joke.

“Yeah I guess that’s true,” Quinn says, hoping a conversation would start on its own. After a minute of silence he gives in and asks, “So what’s new with you I feel like we haven’t really talked that much recently.”

“Nothing much, you know filming you guys all day,” You say wondering if you should mention Evan. It’s still so new and you don’t know if it's going to work out, but he makes you so happy.

“I actually just started seeing this guy. His name is Evan, I think you would like him actually, he's really nice,” You say, deciding to rip off the bandaid.

Quinn knew he wouldn’t like Evan because he was getting with the girl of his dreams.

“Yeah maybe you should bring him out with us after a game or something. I'd love to meet him,” Quinn says kicking himself because that’s the last thing he wants, but anything to get back in your good graces. 

You give him a smile at his comment thinking of what to say next. Luckily for you the barista calls for you two to order. And just like you suggested, Quinn paid. He offers you a ride to the arena before you even start walking back to the metro station to get to work.

You both sit in silence trying to think of anything to talk about. You finally start the conversation by mentioning that an author you had recommended to him a while ago put out a new book and how excited you were to pick it up. 

Just like that the two of you fell back into conversation like you hadn’t missed a beat. You arrive at the arena way quicker than you thought you would and almost don’t want to get out of the car and leave Quinn again. You walk inside and as you are about to separate, but Quinn stops you.

“Would you like to go stop at a bookstore after work today to pick up that book? I could take you home after so you don’t have to take the metro home,” He asks hoping you would say yes.

Yeah that would be really nice. I’ve really missed hanging out with you,” You say with a smile and leaving to go get your work started.

“What’s got you smiling like that? Evan?” Megan, your coworker, asks jokingly.

“Actually no I ran into Quinn this morning when I was getting my coffee and we just talked for a while. Now we’re hanging out after work,” you say, taking a sip of coffee. Hoping to hide your smile behind your cup.

“Wait, really I thought you two were going to avoid each other forever.”

“Well I guess not. He said he was going there to pick up my coffee which was really sweet of him.”

“Oh he’s so into you,” Megan says sitting back in her chair. 

“No he’s not, why would you say that?”

“Think about it, he stops talking to you right after you start seeing Evan and out of nowhere he’s doing all of these nice things for you?” 

You stop and think about it, but there’s no way he told Elias that he could never see you that way. You brush it off and get on with your day. You didn’t have to shoot any content today so you didn’t see any of the guys during their practice, but Quinn was waiting for you after work to take you to go find your book.

You try not to think about what Megan said to you today, pushing it to the back of your mind. Once the two of you get to the bookstore you feel like a kid in a candy store showing Quinn all of the books you had on your reading list but haven’t gotten yet. Without you paying attention he grabbed a basket and started throwing them in there to pay for them himself.

He finally leads you up to the counter and insists on paying for all of the books he grabbed for you. You try to convince him that he didn’t need to but you were cut off by the clerk.

“Girl just let your cute boyfriend pay for your books. That’s what I would do.” You try to deny the accusation from this random teenager, but before you could they were announcing the total and Quinn was inserting his card. He grabbed the bag and walked you back out to the car.

“Sorry if what they said was weird, but just think of it as a payback for all of those coffees you got me,” Quinn said, trying to make you feel better.

“No it’s fine I think it’s kinda funny actually.” You say finally realizing you were there for several hours and were too tired to make dinner.

“I think I’m just going to order take-out for dinner if you want to keep hanging out at my place,” You say with a blush creeping up your cheeks.

“Yeah that’d be great,” Quinn says as you start ordering. He stops at the restaurant while you run in to pick it up. He decides to text Elias and Brock an update and that he’ll tell them more later. 

The drive to your apartment was filled with playful banter about what you should watch and Quinn just watches you as the streetlights illuminate your face. The two of you finally arrive and settle on a new movie you just saw. It really didn’t take much convincing for him to give in; he just wanted to push your buttons a little bit.

Later, they are surrounded by take out tins and you’re starting to drift off. At some point during the movie your head ended up on Quinn’s shoulder and you started to doze off. Quinn wasn’t complaining, but felt like it was time for him to go as the credits started to roll.

“Hey Y/n/n wake up,” He says quietly as you groan and cuddle into him further. “Y/n/n you have to get up-the movie’s over.”

When there’s no sign of you moving he decides to just pick you up and bring you to your bed. Thinking you’re asleep he decides to give you a “friendly” kiss on your forehead and says goodnight. You feel the butterflies that you thought were now reserved for Evan coming back all over again. Quinn grabs the trash from the takeout and sees himself out, and can’t seem to wipe the smile off his face. On his way home he decides to call Elias.

“Elias I’m in so deep I don’t know what to do,” Quinn says concerned because he doesn’t want to break you and Evan up and ruin something else for you.

“Wait what happened?” Elias asked confused because all Quinn had told him was that they were heading back to her place.

“I kissed her-” Quinn said before Elias cut him off.

“You what? You move fast, man.”

“Well I kind of kissed her. She fell asleep on my shoulder and wouldn’t move so I carried her back to her room and then I kissed her forehead. Now I’m going home,” Quinn says still with a deep smile on his face. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“I guess act like nothing happened. She was asleep right? Just leave it be for now and still hang out with her. I can talk to her and see what’s going on with Evan and then you can go from there.”

“Yeah good point thanks Elias, I’ll see you later.”

The next day you walk into work reminiscing last night with Quinn hoping you could relive it again soon. Silly crush aside, you missed your best friend and wanted things to go back to normal. 

Elias practically corners you just to ask questions about Quinn.

“Quinn told me you two hung out last night, so you aren’t ignoring him anymore?”

“I was never ignoring him I just was busy,” You say trying to move around him to get to his office.

“Yeah alright. Anyways, how is it going with Ethan?” Elias asks, teasing you.

“Evan is great. I think I might invite him to a game or something soon,” You say, rolling your eyes.

“Oh wait, really?” Elias asks as you start to walk away. “For the record I think that would be a great idea. Maybe next week against Winnipeg?”

“Yeah I’ll have to ask him. Now if you will excuse me I have to go to my desk.” You say finally walking away. 

You set your things down and open your computer and Megan starts questioning you about your evening with Quinn.

“It really wasn’t anything crazy. We just went to the bookstore where he bought all of them for me and then we went back to my place and got dinner,” You tell her leaving out the fact that he brought you to your bed and kissed you goodnight.

“The fact that he bought all of your books is enough to tell me that he’s into you. I know you had a long list you were slowly buying for yourself.” Megan may have set you up with Evan but she wasn’t blind to how much Quinn was into you and vice versa. 

“I’m thinking of inviting Evan to a game. What do you think?” You ask to change the subject.

“I think it would be a good idea if you weren’t afraid of what your work husband would do,” Megan says, teasing you.

“I- what are you talking about,” You ask, hiding your blush.

“Y/N you can pretend to be oblivious, but Quinn really likes you and you should think about his reaction to having your new boyfriend at a game.”

“Who even knows if Evan would want to go,” You say before locking in on your work for the day.

You had already made plans to go out with Evan later that night so you figured it would be the best time to ask him then. You go home and get ready for your date thinking about what Megan said to you earlier in the day. 

Soon enough you leave to go meet Evan at some new restaurant you would never pick out because it was too fancy for your taste. He greets you with a kiss to your cheek asking you how your day was.

“It was good I just had to deal with Megan and Elias berating me all day,” You say, aiming to leave the questions about Quinn out.

“Why would they do that?”

“Oh I was just thinking about inviting you to a game soon and they were just making fun of me,” You say sheepishly.

“That would be so cool! Would you be able to hang out with me or would it be like a wag situation where I just watch you do your magic,” Evan says with a chuckle as you start to look over the menu.

“I could probably get the night off and sit with you. Do you think you’d be free for the game next Saturday against the Jets?”

“Yeah that would be great! I’m looking forward to it!” He says closing his menu to signal he’s ready to order.

You continue to hang out with both Quinn and Evan, but choose not to tell Quinn about your invite for Evan to come to the upcoming game.

Saturday’s game finally rolls around and Quinn notices your absence during the warmups. You usually can be found on the bench shooting content but tonight it’s Megan in your place. 

“Hey Petey do you know where Y/N is tonight?” Quinn asks hoping Elias might have some insight.

“Yeah she’s in the crowd tonight with Evan,” Elias says pointing towards Y/N and Evan in their seats.

Quinn’s heart drops. You had mentioned that you were thinking about inviting Evan but didn’t think it would be so soon. He tries to forget that you brought your boyfriend to the game, but he can’t forget the fact that you’re wearing his jersey. He can’t help but feel a fire ignite when Evan leans in to say something to you. The sense of jealousy does not go away, but there is a sense of pride knowing his name is the one on your back.

You spot Quinn looking at the two of you and give a shy wave like you had been caught. Evan leaves to go grab some water and you are stuck worrying about what Quinn is thinking about you bringing Evan. 

Honestly since you started hanging out with Quinn again you just felt like your heart wasn’t in it with Evan anymore. You were planning on ending it but he kept talking about how excited he was for the game, so You decided to wait until after to end it with him.

There were no goals by either team after the first period, but something about Quinn seemed off. He was checking the other team left and right and was obviously agitated. The crowd is electric even though the Canucks are down 3-2 half way through the third, but it doesn’t seem to help his mood.

Quinn continues to instigate against the Jets and eventually gets himself into a fight against some player who was aggravating him all night. It doesn’t last long, but enough to get himself a penalty. He looks even more upset than before watching over the play.

Y/N was worried for Quinn. He never was this short tempered and she couldn’t figure what made him that upset. Evan can feel the nerves radiating off of her and rubs her shoulder to try and calm her, but he can’t help but feel like he is the last thing she needs right now.

“Hey Y/N I hate to do this here but I think we should probably end this,” Evan says and you finally take your eyes off Quinn. There is nothing you can do but sigh.

“Evan I’m so sorry I really wish I could’ve been better for you.”

“No it’s ok we had a great time and I’m happy being your friend I just think you have feelings for someone else,” Evan says with little to no hurt in his voice.

“Yeah I would love to still be your friend,” You say with a small smile as he gets up to leave.

Quinn sees Evan get up, but he just assumes that Evan is getting you something from the concessions. He realizes he needs to stop focusing on your date tonight and lock in for the rest of the game.

Unfortunately the Canucks lose 4-2 and Quinn looks like a kicked puppy, but luckily he isn’t assigned to interviews so he can just clean up and get ready to head home. He hopes he can just forget this night, especially seeing you with Evan. 

Little does he know that you’re already waiting for him in the hallway all but pacing the area hoping he’s not too upset to talk to you. Quinn keeps his head down not wanting to see all of the sweet reunions of the couples and families until he hears you call his name. 

He almost doesn’t want to stop worrying Evan would be with you, but you ran up to him to get his attention. Quinn turns around surprised to see you alone with a worried look on your face.

“Where’s your boyfriend?” He asks, his voice laced with annoyance. His comment leaves a sting in your chest.

“Um we actually ended it, but I just came to see how you were doing. I was really worried about you. I've never seen you so upset,” You say with worry lacing your voice.

“Well thanks for checking on me but - wait you ended it with Evan?” Quinn asks, lighting back up.

“Yeah we were better off as friends. I honestly wanted to end it a while ago because I kind of have feelings for someone else, but he was really looking forward to the game,” You say rubbing your arm hoping he might start catching on.

“Oh?” Quinn says with a glimmer of hope in his eyes, but still guarded in case it is someone else.

“Yeah he’s some goofball who was stupid and got himself a penalty tonight,” You say, stepping closer to Quinn.

“Well hopefully he can get that under control for the rest of the season, I’m sure you don’t want to be stuck with someone spending time in a box the whole game,” Quinn says with a smirk and leaning in.

You decided to close the gap and the kiss was all you had ever hoped for. There was a mix of fireworks and something that just felt like home as he grabbed your sides to pull you in closer. Neither of you wanted this feeling to end, but unfortunately you had to come back up for air. 

Quinn has the slightest pink tinge and smile on his face as he pulls back far enough to scan your face for any regrets.

“I’ve been waiting to do that for so long,” He says.

“Finally!” Elias says as he rounds the corner to see the two of you still wrapped up in each other's arms.

“I never thought he would make a move,” Elias adds as Quinn tries to hide in your neck.

“Well maybe we should get out of here and talk a little bit,” You suggest and Quinn excitedly nods, grabbing your hand to lead you out.

The two of you get into his car and you leave the arena stealing kisses from each other at stop lights and looking forward to your future together.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! - 11

Character : Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Summary: It's just a business marriage. Bucky thought it would be easy until he encountered the stepsister of his fiancée. She turned his world upside down.

The Malicious Daughter Is Back! Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Support : Ko-fi 🙏🏻

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

Bucky had no idea that someone was making an evil plan against him. He had been advising you on managing Velari’s business for the past few days.

You quickly grasped the management concepts, learning from the best, Bucky. Another reason for your quick understanding was your previous business studies at a prestigious university. However, you couldn't continue your education due to internal conflicts within your family.

That was your biggest regret. You only bark but never bite. You managed to continue your education only because Cassandra sold her jewelry. You will never forget the sacrifice she made for you. You clenched your fists, remembering the heartbreak in her eyes when she sold her cherished possessions.

But still, whenever you tried to rise, life seemed determined to bring you down again. Genevieve used all her connections to prevent you from learning business and management.

You discovered this when you confronted the dean, who said, "Mrs. Sinclair donates a lot to this university, and we don’t want to disappoint her." You had felt a cold rage, your hands trembling as you realized the extent of her influence.

Most prestigious universities denied you. The only place that accepted you was a community college, where you randomly chose to study health and physical education because, at that time, you felt utterly lost and alone.

You just wanted to get a degree, any degree. You sighed, recalling the sense of defeat and the hollow feeling in your chest as you enrolled in a field you had no passion for.

Sometimes not expecting anything gives the best gifts. The lecturer and friends you met were the most supportive and kindest people you had ever encountered. That’s how you got the job as a teacher at Granite Hills Reform School, where problematic, delinquent students from all over the country were gathered.

It was tough at first; your teachers and the principal had warned you to be careful. But you felt like you could make some changes because you knew how the students felt: not being listened to, getting bullied, not being appreciated, and being ignored. You remembered the frustration in their eyes, a mirror of your own past struggles.

Comparing the discipline required for dealing with delinquent students who always gave outrageous excuses, working at Velari seemed easier.

After redefining the clothes' design with Andrea, you felt like the old Velari was back. You never thought redoing the design would be easier than looking at the accountant's records.

It was a mess. You ran your fingers through your hair, your brow furrowed in disbelief.

You scratched your head, unable to believe how much the business was bleeding. Bucky was also reading the numbers. "If you don’t do something, Velari will be closed in two years." His tone was serious, and his eyes met yours with concern.

"Urgh." You threw your head onto the book on the table and hit it a few times in frustration.

Bucky extended his hand and placed it on your forehead. His warm hand held your head gently. "Don’t worry, you can fix this." His touch and reassuring words made you pause, feeling a flicker of hope amid the chaos.

You felt your face warm up. Bucky noticed too. "Are you having a fever?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes.

You quickly moved your head away from his hand and shook your head. "No, I guess I hit my head too hard," you replied, trying to downplay your flustered state.

The chat between you and Bucky didn’t go unnoticed by Andrea, the senior designer. She bit her lip and continued drawing, stealing glances occasionally.

Bucky cleared his throat. "If you want, we could make a press release for a new rebranding for Velari."

"That’s a good idea," you nodded. "Can we also include AstraNova Group in the press release?"

Bucky nodded. "Sure." He looked at his watch and got up. "I’ll send the PR team to help you with the press release."

"Thank you," you said, your gratitude showing in your smile. Bucky smiled back and left the room.

"It was so sweet, I can't even describe it," Andrea remarked, taking off her glasses and smirking at you.

You felt your cheeks warm up again. "It's not..."

Andrea raised her hands in a mock surrender. "I won't tease you, but I saw how he always comes here and even stays with you until late at night. It says something."

You sighed, looking down at your hands. "I don’t know... To be honest, I don’t believe in romance after what I saw happen to my parents."

Andrea nodded sympathetically. "I understand, but not every story ends the same way. Sometimes, you just have to take a chance."

Andrea sighed, then approached you and gently took both of your hands in hers. She looked at you with a mix of concern and nostalgia. She remembered the first time Ophelia brought you to the shop.

You were cheerful, always laughing at the most minor things. But everything changed after Ophelia died, and not even a year later, your father remarried. Understandably, you have trauma around love and opening your heart to another person.

“Give it a chance,” Andrea said softly, squeezing your hands. “If both of you share the same feelings, that’s good. And… if Bucky cheats, I’m sure you could give him a lesson.” Andrea chuckled, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

You chuckled too, the tension easing from your shoulders. It would be a lie if you said you didn't have feelings for Bucky. You glanced down, your cheeks flushing slightly.

Andrea noticed your expression and gave your hands another reassuring squeeze. “You deserve happiness, just like anyone else.”

You nodded, a small smile playing on your lips. "Thanks, Andrea. I'll think about it."

Andrea smiled warmly, patting your hands before letting go. “Good. Now, let’s get back to work. We’ve got a lot to do.”

👗👗👗👗👗

Since his memory returned, Bucky has been practicing touching other people. He started with his parents first. Though he still couldn’t hug them, he could hold their hands without feeling disgusted. His mom and dad were astounded and cried at the same time.

Finally, they could have physical contact with their son again without Bucky feeling nauseated or acting like they were germs. As parents, it was heartbreaking to see him struggle. The kidnapping stole Bucky and their chance to be an average family.

Juliana sipped her tea while watching her son read the newspaper. "So, today you’re going to be the honored guest at Velari?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Bucky nodded, not looking up from the paper.

"I never thought my son could be interested in fashion," she teased again, her eyes twinkling.

"Mom… I’m just… repaying the favor," Bucky replied, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Yeah… right," Rowan and Juliana murmured together. Because of Bucky’s condition, he never had the chance to have an intimate relationship with someone. He spent his youth only studying. So now, with Bucky and you? They couldn’t be happier.

Bucky wanted to smile at his parents' teasing but held it in. He stood from his seat, adjusting the buttons on his jacket. "I don’t want to be late."

"Why so early?" Juliana asked, looking up from her tea.

Bucky kept walking toward the door where the car was already prepared for him. "I have to stop by her house first."

"Tell her I said ‘Hi’," Juliana called after him, a knowing smile on her face.

Bucky paused at the door, turning slightly to nod before stepping outside. As he approached the car, he couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing you.

🫖🫖🫖🫖🫖

Bucky arrived at your house and, as usual, greeted Cassandra first. She looked much healthier, having gained some weight since the first time he met her. Even with her dementia, Cassandra was always friendly to everyone. She was sitting in the garden with a blanket on her lap.

“Hello, Grandma,” Bucky greeted her warmly.

Cassandra’s eyes widened with recognition. “Ah, Patrick. It’s a beautiful morning, isn’t it? Did you have breakfast?”

Bucky smiled softly, though he didn’t understand why she called him Patrick. After meeting a few times, she started using this name. He had mentioned it to you, but you didn’t know who Patrick was either.

“I’m sorry I made you wait,” you said, walking into the garden while adjusting your earrings.

Bucky fell silent, momentarily mesmerized by how different you looked today. Cassandra noticed, too, and clapped her hands in delight. “You look so beautiful, Ophelia. Did you make the clothes from my design again?”

You bent down and kissed her cheeks. “Yes.” Bringing your mother’s and grandmother’s designs to life was one of your greatest joys.

At least Genevieve and Victoria had never gotten their hands on the earlier designs. Kneeling beside Cassandra, you took her wrinkled hands and looked into her eyes. “I’m going to revive the old Velari.”

Cassandra tilted her head and caressed your hair gently. “I believe in you,” she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and trust.

🚗🚗🚗🚗🚗

The ride to the press release was quiet. You kept silently memorizing the speech you were going to deliver to the journalists and critics. In the fashion world, critics' words held significant weight.

Bucky sensed your nervousness. “Don’t worry. You can do this,” he said, his voice steady.

You took a deep breath and released it slowly. “Yes, I can do this.” Then, you looked at Bucky, feeling a surge of gratitude. You had reached this point mainly because of him.

“Bucky… I…” Your eyes widened when you saw Bucky’s intense focus on you, and he reached for you. “Wait…”

“Get down!” Bucky shouted, dragging your body away from the door. The movement was swift. As the car stopped at a red light, a big SUV suddenly rammed into Bucky’s car.

The car window shattered, showering you with glass. “What the fuck?” you exclaimed, feeling a mix of shock and fear.

Then you realized the person who had shielded you was trembling. You looked up to see Bucky, his face pale, his body rigid.

The traumatic memory of his kidnapping had resurfaced with startling clarity. He had just wanted to go home early from an event hosted by AstraNova, finding the party boring with no kids his age. But that decision had led to his abduction, a memory now mirrored in this moment. The nightmare was returning: the darkness, the cold, and fear.

“Bucky?” you called, trying to snap him out of his frozen state.

‘Bang.’

You hear the door closed from the SUV and see three big guys coming into your car. You saw the driver is fainted. “Shit.”

You touched Bucky's face urgently, trying to break through his fear. "Bucky, look at me! I know you're scared. Me too! But we can't stand still. We have to run. Argh…" Suddenly, strong arms grabbed you from behind.

The person was big and rough, wearing a ski mask. He muttered, "You're a firecracker, aren't ya?" His confidence wavered when you stared directly at him.

You continued kicking and squirming to escape his grasp, but his strength was overwhelming compared to your students'. Where was Bucky?

“Bucky!!!” you screamed, desperately searching for him.

“Don’t worry about him. We just want you,” the abductor sneered as he dragged you toward the waiting car.

Fear surged through you as you realized what was happening—had you just been abducted?

You kept kicking and struggling against the abductor, but he gripped your leg harder. “Be good, or I’ll break your fucking legs…”

“Help!” A voice suddenly cried out, weak and desperate.

You and your abductor both turned toward the sound.

What you saw was beyond anything you could have imagined. Bucky, whose body was smaller than the abductor's, had launched himself into action. With surprising strength and speed, he grabbed the other abductor and threw him in a wide arc.

The abductor struggled, choking and gasping for air. His resistance faded, and he went limp, unconscious. Bucky discarded him like a sack of garbage.

Your abductor's voice trembled with disbelief and frustration. “Fuck, she didn’t mention any of this.”

You were equally shocked. You had never imagined that Bucky possessed such strength and skill.

Unbeknownst to you, Bucky had been quietly preparing himself for such situations. He had learned various martial arts and survival techniques, practicing diligently despite his physical limitations. Unable to spar with others, he had honed his abilities with machines and workout equipment, constantly pushing himself to the highest levels.

Now, faced with real danger, Bucky's training revealed itself. His strength and determination were beyond anything you had ever seen from him.

Andrea echoed in your mind, "If Bucky cheated, you could give him a lesson." If she could witness this moment, she would indeed be astounded.

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Author Note: Hey friends,

If you've been enjoying the content, I've set up a Ko-fi account.

Your support through tips would mean the world and help me keep creating.

Only if you feel like it!

Here's the link: Ko-fi

Thanks a bunch for being fabulous followers!

[houdikoo]

Lacrimosa

You never expected your apathetic husband to suddenly die. Even tho you never loved him enough to care, the general public made sure to make your widow life harder. With no interest in love, all you wanted was to finally be independent. Until you met a certain count, who just couldn't seem to leave you alone.

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Vampire!Jungkook x widow!Hesperia(OC)

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: Victorian era au, vampire au, angst, fluff, slow burn(Ig?)

𝙒𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨: (Unimportant) character death, mourning, ignorant OC, toxic social expectations, stigma & discrimination, blood, financial struggles, false murder accusations, manhandling, simp jk, vampire jk(that needs to be a warning).

Note: This is random idea which came to me. It's kinda inspired by Anna Karenina, like the time period and the style. I haven't written anything(like ffs) for quite some time, so kindly don't mind any errors T-T

The delightful cool air entered my lungs, as I stepped down the carriage. Warm yellow lights shunned from the now bustling mansion in front of me.

The trembling pain in my temples grew, giving me a sign of what was to come. It has namly been 2 months since the death of my "dear husband".

It would be lying if I said I wasn't tearful, on the contrary, I was saddened by the problems he left me to deal with it.

The enormous layers of my black mourning dress swayed in the light breeze as I moved thru the doors, stepping into the lightened ballroom.

Numerous of familiar and unfamiliar faces turned towards me. Coming here today, I clearly knew what I was putting myself thru. The so called "appropriate" mourning period; which included no social events, wasn't even half done.

Most women I have known, tended to mourn to at least a year, if not longer. Me coming here, so early will be seen as "disrespectful" to many, but I could care less.

As he, was nobody to mourn over. A man with his ego and lust had no place in my heart. I ought to at least wear black, as to respect the death.

By now, the stares turned away. Turning into whispers and careless giggles. I strodd towards the small corner where the white wine was served in dazzling glasses.

From the corner of my eyes, I saw my lovely sister, Annemarie, stepping closer towards me with a sincere yet confused glance. Sighing, I picked up a glass and took a sip, patiently waiting for the interrogation.

"Hespe! Why have you come here?" her voice calm as ever, yet I sensed the anxiety in her voice from a mile away. I answered nothing, giving her my smile and continued to sip on my wine.

"I know you never cared for that man, but he was still your husband, you ought to at least think of the consequences" she grabbed a hold of my sleeve fixing it slightly as it got wrinkled.

"And you also know, that I don't care even if they throw me on the street for me so called ignorance"

An audible sigh was passed thru the air, and I could only chuckle at the way my sister turned away from me to look at the staring strangers.

"Well, isn't it Lady Selwyn… oh excuse me I meant Lady Dosett"

The sleek smirk painted his face, contrast to his actions as he bowed down in front us. Lord whitmore was never a "pitiful" type. His words striking venom everytime he speaks.

He also took the pleasure of degrading every pitiful women in his are. Who else would have been a better target, then a newly widow like myself.

"Pleasure to see you again, Lord whitmore" I crossed my arm over my waist, turning towards the middle aged man. Clearly he hoped for a better reaction, as his displease was showing slightly thru his happy faced.

"I would say the same, but I would be lying if I said wasn't surprised to see" His stare tighten and his smirk returned. I dug my nails into my arm, it was clear where this was going.

"After all it has been only 2 months since Lord Selwyn's death"

I looked at my sister, seeing her side eye him and tightening her jaw. She might not support my ignorant choices, but she wouldn't let anyone disrespect me.

I just look back at him, giving him back the sly smile. "I'm well aware of that, but I can't quit see how my husbands death should affect my social life"

He moved back, his posture launched, clearly he wasn't expect me to actually say this. He seemed to think, as he grasped a glass of wine, stirring and sipping quietly.

I looked away, staring into the distance. Taking a sip from my glass, calming myself down. He will leave sooner or later.

I watched the over the top dressed figures, coming down the grand red carpeted stairs. Which were mostly used by high class figures, trying to appear dramatic or more "important" to the rest.

Among those figures I caught a red like flare. I searched for the source, and that's when I come to contact with red eyes boring back at mine.

They appeared brown, but a hint of red was reflected on the side. I was a bit dazed, looking to see who this individual was who bestod such unique, or rather weird beauty.

To my unhappiness, my thoughts were interrupted as Lord whitmore coughed, rather intentionally loud. I twisted my head to the side staring into him.

" I guess it makes sense, since you didn't really seem to care for the lords death" His gaze being not so friendly anymore, like he was challenging me for a imaginary duel.

"Almost like the news pleased you…"

I held my breath, but continued to look at him with a blank stare. I see, he couldn't make me ashamed, so he decided to implant the idea that I was behind my husbands death.

"Hope you didn't take it the wrong way, I'm not accusing you of anything dear" The words flow out like posing, and that sanistic smile came back. I held still, keeping my gaze on him.

He poured the last drops of his wine, putting the glass on a random tray. My sister fluffed her skirt, and grabbed me by my elbow.

"I would be carefull with such accusations. We shall get going, the dance is about to start" she spoke it softly, but you could hear the slight anger in her voice.

Lord whitmore let out a chuckle and stroked his chin in amusement. "Oh dance, right, well I'm looking forward to see both on the dance floor", he smiled and bowed down while staring straight at me.

The word "both" being emphasized more then the rest. Clearly he wasn't expecting anyone to ask me. Who would even want to dance with a widow like me, right?

I decided to keep quite and just nod to his words. Anna tighten her grip on my elbow, and guided me away from Lord whitmore.

"Lady Dosett, I'm waiting for an invite to the vigils"

I stopped and turned towards him. The vigils, I almost forgot. One of the traditions of mourning, inviting people over to "pray" for the death. I needed to throw one whatever I liked it or not, just to show respect.

"Of course, I make sure to send an invitation soon, Lord whitmore" I answered with a quick smile at the end, before turning around.

We continued on our way towards one of the doors, dividing the two huge ballrooms. We stood side by side, until the extravagant music started playing.

Within a few seconds people already moved towards the middle, starting to move along with the violin and organ sounds. I loved the ball before.

The warm atmosphere and the dancing figures, along with the smell of faint lavender and the not so lovely scent of sweat throughout the last hours.

Sadly, things changed after my wedding. There was no more excitement, with a man standing right beside, gripping my waist tight enough to make me stiff up.

My husband never loved, he called it being possessive over his "belongings". Another one of his disgusting fantasize. Now that he was gone, I could enjoy those things again.

To an extant. A widow was free, free from her family who wanted nothing to do with her, and her death husbands side who felt like a burden was taken away from them.

On the other hand, the society wouldn't leave me alone. Everyone would know me as a widow. According to most, I was doomed. No man would marry me now. Apparently, I crossed the right age for marriage and now I was "used".

I saw a few young man stare at my sister. Of course, she was young and pretty, everyone was interested in her. In this day and age, for a woman beauty and youth was her only weapon.

All she needed was to get herself a rich husband, give him a son, and she would be left alone be hima and free to do most of what she wanted.

That's how it worked, for us. I all I hoped was that she would end up with someone who respected her. Because there is no way to find love with those men.

I looked at Anna, seeing her give a shy smile towards one of the man's way. Giving her a teasing smile, I looked back at the man.

Count Ashcroft, was indeed a handsome fellow. Out of all the young men his age, he seemed least of a jerk. I looked towards my sister, pushing her forwards towards him.

She gave me a frightened look, but shaked my head giving her a genuine smile. I guess she got the clue, as she smiled and speed walked over to the man.

I was left standing alone, in the crowded room. A few giggles and glaces here and there, but I tried not to be distracted. I focused on the view in front of me.

I wandered back to my youth, the time when dreams of a life full love were still alive. I looked forward to the day I met the one for me, but it never came.

All the man around me were nothing but scoundrels. Their words full of empty promises. They say they love, but the only thing they do is their freedom of doing whatever they please.

As of now the turned more calm with elegant flute in the background, leading the flow. I felt footsteps behind coming closer. I shrugged it of thinking it was someone random walking by.

Sudden, lt the air felt colder than before. It wasn't comfortable rather soothing for my nerves. I heard a short and quite inhale from behind.

Goose bumps ran down my spine, as I stood there awaiting the unknown. I thought it might have been on of those young girls who came to give me fake pity while making fun of my now vulnerability.

"Dance with me"

A smooth like ocean waves voice said softly behind me. I chuckled lightly to myself. Well, this wasn't what I was expecting. It wasn't even a question, rather sounding like a demand.

I turned around, expecting to see a possibly underage lad who decided act cool be dancing with an elder women.

To my surprise, there stood a shallow man, black striped suit with pearly white shirt underneat.

His short hair slicked on the sides, as some strands framed his sculpted face. I moved higher, seeing the familiar red flare in his eyes.

His face was determined with no sign of nervousness. "That's not so gentleman way to ask a lady for a dance" I kept my face straight, focusing my gaze on his reaction.

Was this another one of those pranks pulled by the bachelors when they are so drunk they can't remember their name?

"Excuse my actions, I must have forgot myself while being unconsciously blinded" he spoke taking a step closer to me. I furrowed my eyebrows, crossing my hands as I stared at him.

"Blinded by what possibly?" The question lingered in the air, as he raised his hand laying if flat for me. "None other than your beauty, my lady".

I giggled, it was long since I heard such words from a man. I put my hand on his, as he raised it towards his mouth before planting a tender kiss on my knuckles.

"I rather be called by my name, Hesperia Dosett" He slowly put my hand down, but i felt his grip linger on my wrist before letting go.

"A pleasure to meet you, lady dosett. The name is Jungkook Everhart"

I thought a bit, trying to remember if I heard this name before. That's when I remembered a month before my husbands death, a man of the name count everhart took over a large state of land from my husband, leaving him grief over it with bottles of rum for the continuing 3 days.

"I must say, my eagerness is striding me wild, my lady" his voice taking an impatient tone, but still holding that charming note.

I let a audible sigh, thinking it thru before answering. "It's a dance you wanted, alright then" with that said he wasted no time putting his hand around my waist while softly leading me to the dance floor.

I felt shivers down my spine, as his cold fingers touched me thru the dress. He spun me slightly to stand in front of him as we got into position, and the music started.

I would describe this moment as peaceful. At one point it felt like there were only two of us. I saw and felt only him, the deep brown eyes staring at me with intensity and the mouth which opened a bit every once in a while.

This man was a beauty, maybe if I met him before, I wouldn't hesitate in being his partner. Although knowing the situation now, this would end up being a one time thing.

A simple dance, maybe a kiss if we get this far. His eyes made my want to stay, keep swinging and swaying till the morning.

He had the soft yet calm look on him, something I haven't seen that often. It didn't felt lustfull, but admiring?

The dance ended before I even knew it. I looked still dazed from the moment we had. I saw people staring at me, judgingly. My sister, standing amongst the crowd, stared at me confused.

That's when I realized that I was doing. Being called an ignorant wife was one thing, but getting the title of a "bed warmer" would definitely get me on a bad side.

I looked at him, holding myself from wanting to stay. "It was pleasure, but now I must be on my way" I stepped back holding up the corner of my dress.

He didn't let go of me and moved down to hold onto my wrist softly as he leaned in and whispered in my ear.

"This won't be a one time thing, meet me in the abandoned opera house tomorrow at 10pm. I wanna show my type of romance away from those cunning eyes"

I licked my lips, unsure of what to say. I didn't waste no time and turned around walking towards the exit. I stepped into the chilling air, I wasn't expecting leaving this place with shy smile on my face…

The doors of the old abandoned opera house as I stepped in, making sure to close the doors behind before anyone could see me. This place was restricted to norms, so anyone coming in here could be immediately evicted.

I glanced thru the spaces room with dirty swept red curtains hanging heavily around the stage. The dust lifted up, when I walked closer to the stage.

I questioned my arrival here, I couldn't believe a simple few minute accountant with a unknown man, made me travel to such pace at near midnight.

I sighed putting the strands which fell in front of my face, behind my ear. I stiffed as I heard slight movement somewhere above me.

I hesitated, but nevertheless looked up towards the small balcony just beside the stage.

There, in front of the washed up curtains, a well known figure sat on the railing looking at me with a delight expression.

"I didn't expect that you would come" his grin was big enough for me to see from below here, not to mention the view of his shiny pecks was almost to clear for my purity.

"Maybe I shouldn't have. Who knows, maybe you take innocent girls her to murder them" my voice flew out as a flock of wasps, even though I didn't necessarily feel threatened, I needed to make sure he knew that I wasn't some naivy girl.

On the contrary, coming here was the most naivy move I could have made. But something about him, made me invested.

He giggled heartly at my words, as reached his hand to grab the hanging rope beside him. "Well, I'm glad you gave me the benefit of a doubt".

He stood up pulling the rope closer to his body, before putting the tight clothed leg around it. I raised my eyebrow staring at him closely.

"Are you trying to impressive me by acting like a pirate?" I asked, even tho the motive was clear. He was indeed, going to swing with the rope down to me.

"It's the fastest way down, don't wanna walk down all those stairs"

I chuckled lightly, wondering why he got up there in the first place. He swung forward sending his body to slowly glide down the rope, landing a few steps away from me.

I turned towards him, crossing my arms. "So? Did I come here just to see this, or is there something more you got to offer" the question lingered in the air, as he didn't answer and instead chose to walk closer towards me.

He stepped right in front of me, a thin layer of air being the only thing between us. He was mesmerizing to say the least. The way his hair fall down like oceans waves down the sandy beach.

And the glittery red sparkle in his eyes, and his stare, oh the shivers were real. A thin smile spread over his lips, as he took my hand gently.

He grabbed the rope hanging close by, before staring at me with a wide mischievous grin. "Ready to fly?" his question made me glance at him confused.

His arms, tho they looked masculine enough, I had doubts if he could hold me. He seemed to notice me concern, as he put his arm around my waist, before almost roughly, pulling me towards.

A small gasp left my mouth from the impact. I looked up at him, my fingers clenching his white ruffled collar. I felt a chuckle escape his mouth as stared down at me.

"Only a fool, would drop a girl like you"

The next second, he tucked the rope down, sending us both high up. He used his body and swinged down towards the broken stage. I set my foot down, still clasping his shirt tight in my grasp.

My eyes which I closed a second after being in the air, opened and stared back at the man who looked at me alluringly.

He moved back, letting go as I unclasped my grasp. He tucked his knee back and slightly down, crossing his one arm in front.

He kept his gaze stuck at me, as bend over. "Can I have this dance, my lady?". His words send shivers down my spine, as if that sentence was the scariest of this night.

I felt my cheeks flush, but confusion rose within me. We did just dance last night. Even so, I put my hand forward, letting him take my hand softly. He pulled me closer, almost as close as we were a second ago.

As we got in the correct position, with him holding my waist and hand tightly to the point of blood stop, and me resting my hand on his shoulder. We swinged around the stage, at one point I heard the music from last night in my head.

The notes struck my heart, as my eyes turned tired and glossy. Last night felt intimidating, while this feels soothing. I was away from the eyes of the judgeful people around me.

I thought I enjoyed it, but now I think I just hoped I did. I stared at Jungkook, who closed his eyes as he swayed to the non existing music.

He must have felt my stare, cus he opened his eyes and looked at me. His stare turned soft, almost admiring. His lips parted and slow calm puffs left his mouth.

This felt stupid, we met barely a day ago. Dancing like two strangers at a party. And now I was standing questioning my feelings. I felt attracted to him, in a weird way.

"Last night, wasn't our first ecounter"

His words left his mouth like a calm whisper. My curiosity rose, I never remembered meeting him before. Even tho I heard of his name from my ex husband.

"A year ago, I saw you at your engagement party. And from that moment on, you become someone special to me" He spoke in his deeper tone, and his eyes turned sharper.

He stopped swaying, as his arm moved from my hand towards the back of my neck. "I watched you silently for the past year. Waiting for my time, even tho I believed it would never come".

His face leaned closer, the hand gently grabbed my neck. I let a desperate sigh, I never felt so needy for a connection before know. His words flew past me, I only focused on the fact that he waited for me, for almost a year.

Inside me, I felt he was speaking the truth. His heart did desire me, and only me. He must have felt my anxiety, as his lips met mine. The slow and tender kiss, left me feeling thirty.

He once again stared at me, but this time his eyes sparkled red. My heartbeat stopped as I thought back to a rumour I heard months ago.

A man of the name Jungkook Everhart, possessed red gleaming eyes which both scared and enchanted. Pale skin, which glittered in warm sunlight. It all made sense now, he was a vampire ladies and gentlemen.

That voice range in my head, as I continued to stare at his eyes. He leaned closer, I thought he was gonna kiss me again, but no.

He went passed my lips towards the nape of my neck. His cold breath, fammed my skin as I felt goosebumps form over my whole neck.

I felt two sharp points, grazing my skin. Before I heard his low voice call out my name, trying to grasp my attention. "Hesperia, oh my dear Hesp…".

His voice shivered, like if holding himself back. His arms stroke my waist softly enough to make me melt. "I knew you were gonna be mine, and now… I'll make sure to never leave you alone in despair".

He puffed out, my lips felt dry and my hands held tightly on his arm, almost digging my fingers thru his skin. Before the sharp pain of sharp like dagger teeth sinked in my flesh, he spoke again with honeyed voice, causing my heart to swell with admiration.

"I love you, my dearest…"

[oliviablancmom]

"Pedriiii - Part II"

Pairing: Pedri Gonzalez x singlemom!Oc

Theme: fluff, angst

N/A: And here is part two, I hope it lives up to your expectations. I would like to thank each like, comment, reblog, and ask about this imagine. I'm happy that you liked it as much as I enjoyed writing it, and I love seeing your reactions. Again, this chapter turned out huge, but I needed every part to make sense. I hope you enjoy it and fall a little more in love with these three.

Warnings: Men being inconvenient in this chapter, people making a child cry.

Pedri was in a mood; he was training alone in the academy because Gavi did him a favor by opening up to the entire team about his meeting with the woman from the nightclub, who turns out to work for Barça. And now all of the guys were messing with him, especially after Gavi spilled about the ring that was shining on her finger. Seriously, Gavi needs to return playing ASAP because Pedri can't deal anymore with the boy gossip phase.

"Are you sad today?" The little boy asked the player, taking his attention from the movie he was watching on his iPad. "I can bring M&Ms for us; Mom put some packages in her purse, I think she's sad too," he says pouting.

"I'm fine, buddy, just focused. But why is your mother sad? Did something happen?" Pedri asked curiously. In one of the many conversations he had with the little boy, he discovered that the little boy's mother worked for the team, but Pedri hadn't had the opportunity to meet her yet.

"I don't know; Father is supposed to take me this week. Then he screams at her and then at me, and they fight." Pedri swallows the knot in his throat as he sees the little boy's eyes watering; something hurts inside him for seeing the little boy like that.

"You know, those M&M's we were craving for, we finally get to have them," he says in an attempt to cheer up the little boy.

"No way, for real??" He jumped excitedly, and Pedri smiled at him.

"I swear. I'm going with Gavi after the training to get them." Pedri fixed the cap on Axel's head.

"You guys aren't going to eat them without me, right?" He pointed the finger at Pedri, trying to make an angry face.

"What, of course not? I'll bring them for you tomorrow, and also, I wouldn't eat them with Gavi; I'm angry at him," Pedri says as he starts to get his things ready to leave the academy.

"Why?" Axel asks curiously.

"Because he has a big mouth," the boy gasped, looking at Pedri.

"So he would eat everything," Axel says, worried, and Pedri laughs at his reaction.

"Yeah, something like that, buddy."

*****************************************

"Axel, I swear, it's been days since the last time I gave you candy; you shouldn't be this energetic," Isa asked as she watched her child jump from one chair to another. The boy stops, with a little smile on his face, and then back to his jumping games. Isa looks suspiciously at her child.

"Axel..." She calls, getting close to the boy. "You didn't eat any candy, right?" She holds the boy, stopping him from jumping anymore. He looks at her, his head tilts to the side, and a mischievous smile emerges on his little face, the dimples in his cheeks showing up. "Axel Harver," she says unbelievably as she starts to tickle him, his laughs getting louder and louder.

"Mom, stop. Please stoooop, Moooommy." She lets him go, letting him catch his breath.

"Little boy, little boy. I already told your grandfather not to give you too many candies." She kisses his head.

"It was for my friend; I couldn't let him eat alone," the boy said simply, and she smiled at him. Sometimes she couldn't believe how smart he was for his young age.

"No, you couldn't," she smiles, looking at the time on her watch; it was time to go home.

"Get your things; it's time for us to go home." The little boy ran to get his bag.

"Can we stop by Pops?" He asked excitedly.

"Of course, it's been two days since the last time you saw him; you guys are probably getting sick already," she says ironically at the boy, who had his grandfather on his little finger.

"He says that I could start Barça school after my birthday, so I'll be a La Masia boy, mom." The boy says excitedly as they walk towards the parking lot. He and his grandfather had been planning that moment for over a year; the excitement of both was evident. Honestly, Isa was still insecure about the idea of him wanting to be a player; she was too jealous for that, and modestly aside, her son was adorable, he would definitely get some attention. "You think I could play with my friend?" She looks down at her son.

"Well, probably, he's going to Barça school too?" She asked, as she had heard more than once about this friend of his.

"No, in the first team," he says simply. She looks confused at him.

"Well, I think it would take time for you both to be there; maybe you even change your mind about being a player." Her boy made a disgusted face.

"Axel, you are having so much attitude lately."

"But he's already there," he ignores what she is saying. She stops, looking at him.

"Wait, in the first team? Your friend?" The boy nodded happily. "The friend you spend the day with?" He nodded again, as his little eyes focused on something behind her.

"Are you befriending the players?" She asks, but she doesn't get his attention, as he seems to focus on the thing behind her before she can turn to see what he's looking at. He snaps out of his trance.

"Pedriiii!" he screams, and he runs away from her. She was pretty sure that her eyes were going to pop out as she heard the name. She then turned to see where her boy was going, catching a glimpse of him jumping excitedly into the player's arms.

"You've got to be kidding me," she says to herself.

*****************************************

"That friend of Aurora's is really into you," Gavi says to Pedri, who rolls his eyes. "You should give her a chance."

"I'm not interested; she's not my type." Gavi smiled wide at his friend, ready to comment, but was cut off by the boy who jumped at Pedri.

"Hi Pedri, hi Gavi." The little boy high-fived the two players.

"Hey little guy, no Gavi shirts today?" Gavi asked, getting an eye roll from Pedri.

"No. My mother said I should wear other clothes from time to time," he says with a sad smile, receiving a laugh from both players. "Are you going to get my candy?"

"Yes, I will. Are you here alone?" Pedri asked worriedly. He was used to meeting the boy alone inside the training center or the stadium, but the thought of the little boy running alone by the parking lot gave him shivers.

"Nooo, with mommy, Silly," he says, laughing as if Pedri had told him the funniest joke. Before Pedri could look around to search for the child's mother, his senses were clouded by the familiar scent of perfume that had been stuck in his mind for the past few days.

"Axel, what have I told you about running away from me like that? You can't let go of my hand on the street," the woman said in a sweet yet reprimanding voice.

"I know, Mom, but I had to talk to my friend," the little boy says in an even sweeter voice as he hugs the woman's legs. Pedri was absorbed in their interaction, while the woman's eyes stared at him. He simply couldn't believe it.

"Hi, Isa. Cute kid you have; now I can see the similarities," Gavi was the one to break the silence.

"Thanks, Pablo; he is the cutest." Pedri saw her eyes shine proudly as she looked at the boy, and honestly, Pedri felt dizzy.

"Hey, Pedri. I need to take my mother home and take her to a place," Gavi calls for Pedri.

"Ok, Let's Go! Bye Axel," Pedri wave a quick good bye to the little one, ignoring his mother.

"NO! You can't come, it's personal," Gavi says almost desperately, getting an intrigued look from Pedri.

"Gavira, I spent months taking you to every place; you owe me," Pedri says feeling annoyed as he watches his teammate head to his car.

"Sorry, brother. Ask one of the boys."

"We can take you!" The little voice says behind him. "Right mom, right? We can take him, pleeeease, we can take him, riiiiight?" He says as he jumps, pushing his mother's blazer, whose face was getting red.

"I don't know, we are going to Pops, and he probably doesn't want it."

"Of course he wants," Gavi says almost screaming.

"Aren't you leaving?" The three ask at the same time to the youngest, who looks amused as he gets in his car, leaving the parking lot.

"So you're coming with us, right? Right, mommy?" The woman only nodded, taking the kid in her arms and heading to her car. Pedri follows right beside them; he watches as she puts the little boy in the car seat.

"Axel, stop moving," she murmurs at the chatty boy. Once she finishes fixing it, she takes a step back, expecting to close the door, but ends up bumping into Pedri, who was holding the door. With a push, he closes the door, trapping Isa between him and the car. He takes a breath watching her beautiful face, but then he remembers something that was bugging his mind.

"Is your husband coming with us?" He says in a hushed tone just for her to hear. She opens her mouth to reply but nothing comes out; she brushes past Pedri and gets into the car. Pedri runs his hands through his face; he would kill Gavira.

"Aren't you getting in? We are late," she says annoyingly after rolling down the car window. Pedri grumbles and heads for the passenger door.

*****************************************

There was so much tension inside the car, of course imperceptible to the little one who chatted incessantly in the back seat, telling things to his mother, asking questions to Pedri, and singing along to the songs playing on the radio. Despite the many conversations he had with the little one, Pedri hadn't realized how talkative he was; perhaps the presence of the other players made him feel shy. Pedri returned to his conversations with the boy, noticing the mannerisms he had and now could see how much he resembled his mother: the sweet way of speaking, the sweet and welcomed smile, the dimples on his cheeks when he smiled. Pedri was feeling something strange; the presence of the woman clouded his feelings.

"Pedriiiii," Axel's voice snapped his attention back. Pedri turned in his seat to face the younger one.

"Yes, buddy?"

"Mommy is talking to you." The child pointed to the woman driving. Pedri redirected his focus to her, who glanced at him briefly before returning her attention to the road.

"You didn't tell us your address," she said calmly, the velvety tone of her voice sending shivers down Pedri's spine.

"Um, actually, you can drop me off at this store downtown," he showed her the address. "My brother will pick me up there."

"We can drop you home."

"No, I don't want to cause you any trouble," he couldn't help the sharpness in his tone, and he saw the woman wince and just murmur a little and almost inaudible 'ok'.

After a few minutes, they arrived at the candy store.

"Wait here for a minute," he told the woman, hurrying out of the car as quickly as he could to retrieve his order from the store.

*****************************************

"Oh my God, he's really going to get them," Isa looked at the back seat, seeing her son looking outside where the player walked towards a store, a fascinated look on his face.

"What, Axel?" She asked curiously, not used to Axel admiring someone else like that; normally, he was a shy child around strangers.

"Our candies," he said excitedly. "The ones we wanted but couldn't find, with different flavors."

"Did you ask him?" She turned to look at him, trying not to sound like she was reprimanding him.

"No, he wanted them too. And since I'm his friend, he's going to share them with me, because he likes me, Mom, he really likes me." Isa felt her throat tighten, and her eyes filled with tears. Words could hurt, especially when said to a child. She didn't know what to say to him, but the little boy's excitement comforted her heart.

"Here, buddy, we finally got them," the player gets into the car, snapping Isa out of her thoughts; she silently watches their interaction and how happy her son is. "Are you taking them to practice tomorrow?" Pedri asked as he stroked the child's cheek.

"YEEEEES!" Axel shouted excitedly.

"Alright, see you tomorrow then!" He said smiling at the little boy and then turned to the woman beside him. "Thanks for the ride."

"Thank you for this," she said honestly. "You have no idea what this means." The player furrowed his brows in confusion and then exited the car.

*****************************************

The feeling of returning to training with the rest of the team was a great relief, especially when there was the possibility of returning to play soon. Pedri felt ready; the medical department had already cleared him to drive, but they still wanted to postpone his return to the fields. And as eager as he was, he wanted to follow the guidance of the professionals. But still, knowing that he could return to playing soon gave him extra motivation in his recovery.

Pedri was eager to share the news with his little friend, who longed for his return even more than he did himself, but it had been almost a week since the last time he saw the boy. He wouldn't admit it out loud, but he missed the boy running to meet him after training. He thought about asking about him to the boy's mother, but every time he saw her, the ring gleamed on her finger. Pedri didn't want to make a big deal out of it; after all, it was a one-night stand, but he couldn't deny that he was affected. The remnants of that night were vivid in his mind, and knowing that the woman was committed spoiled the images for him.

"You know, for someone who wants to seem indifferent, you're terrible at hiding it," Gavi whispers beside him as they watch the woman approaching with the film crew.

"Hello, boys," she says with a sweet smile.

"Hello, Isa," Gavi greets excitedly and nudges his friend to do the same, but Pedri just nods slightly, which seems to frustrate the woman. She kept her gaze on the player's face, reading every detail as if searching for an opening to say something.

"Here are your lines," she says after a few minutes of silence, handing over the cue cards with the ready-made phrases they needed to record for the Barça One promotion. "It'll be quick," she says, moving behind the man handling the camera, and soon the rest of the crew went to prepare the players.

Gavi was the first to record, while Pedri amused himself watching. Gavi hated these kinds of activities, so something that could normally be quick ended up taking longer because of him. Pedri's attention is stolen when his eyes fall on the woman, who is watching the recordings while making some notes in a notebook and speaking to the cameraman. As if sensing Pedri's eyes, she turns to face him and then walks slowly towards him, stopping by his side.

"You said you didn't know who I was that night," the player says quietly so only the woman can hear him. She looked back at him, her confidence in facing him as if challenging him bringing back memories.

"Are you talking to me now?" She asks in an ironic tone. "And I never said I didn't know who you were, I just said I didn't care," she says convincingly, and there it was, the sharp tongue and tone from that night, the player thought.

"That's not how it seemed, just like the part about being married," Pedri smiles proudly having retorted in the same tone, but the woman's furious look makes the smile disappear.

"It's not like that, and if you didn't keep avoiding me every time I show up, you'd know," she turns her attention back to Gavi's recording.

"You just had to say 'Hey, I have a husband,' it's not that hard," he says as he moves away from her."

*****************************************

Isa didn't want to go out that night, in weeks like that she gets in a terrible mood, there were right and wrong days, and that was a wrong one. But her work friends were eager for a night out , and they kept saying how good it would be for her since she was an ocean of anxiety. So there she was, sitting in the bar watching her friends dancing excitedly, she didn't want to go dance, not yet at least, she still wasn't feeling at her best to enjoy the night like that.

"Hey doll, can I buy you a drink?" A man comes to her side, she looks at him uninterested.

"No, thanks," she says simply, backing at watching her friends.

"C'mon, it's just a drink." He holds her arm getting close to her face.

"I don't want it." she says firmly.

"Oh, don't play hard to get," he touched her hair. "you are too pretty to be here alone." He insisted with a flirtatious smile.

"She's not here alone." The familiar voice cut before she could answer the man. "Take your hands out of my girlfriend" he says in a warning tone, making the woman gasp, Isa looks around to see if there are eyes on them, but for their luck, no one is paying attention.

"You? Her boyfriend? No way." The man laughs looking at Isa. "Aren't him like one of the Barça kids?" Isa saw Pedri's face turning red, and before he could answer she took him by the waist, getting him away from the inconvenient man.

****************************************

The moment he saw the woman enter the bar, he just knew that he shouldn't have accepted Ferran's invitation to the nightclub. Because from that moment, his attention were on her, just like the first night. He tried his best to try to look uninterested, he even tried to speak and dance with a girl who was in their VIP area. But his eyes kept stealing glances at the woman, and the moment he saw a man on her side, he made his choice, going right into her.

He didn't have the time to answer the man who called him a kid, he had an answer for that, a good one that Isa herself could confirm, but her hand putting him away was distracting, the power she had over him was driving him crazy.

"Barça would end us, especially me, if I let the image of one of their golden boys get messed up because of some nightclub confusion" Pedri looked at the woman's face, her big brown eyes were soft and just like always, were mapping all his face.

The people around them didn't seem to notice who he was especially how they weren't dancing to the rhythm of the music playing. Pedri's hand was over her waist going up and down, she passed her manicured hand by her hair and the action made the smell of her perfume travel to his nose, automatically he bent down to her neck, smelling her inebriated perfume, like someone addicted. The woman was blinding his senses. He thought that the remaining images of their night, which kept playing as a movie in his mind were just the carnal feeling of a good night, but now he was afraid that it was something more, since the fact that only the idea of watching her gets all his attention, and we're everything about her, literally everything.

"Let's get out of here" she murmurs in his ears.

He didn't answer, he only took her by the hand to get out of the club.

That's how they ended up in the hotel room again, they didn't talk, the actions of the desire were speaking for them, Pedri was tasting every piece of her, like a starving man, like it was the last thing he would do. And deep down he thought that maybe it was the last thing, cause a noise kept ringing in his mind, remember him about the ring on her finger. And that makes him snapped at realization, he took the woman's hand who was holding his hair as if she depended on it, and there was no signal of the commitment. He kisses her hand then her mouth, and then all over her breast. She kept murmuring and saying things he couldn't understand, her face was all messed up because of her red lipstick, and he was sure he had the vestiges in his face too.

"You remember what you said to me that night?" He asked her, her eyes looking at him with such intensity that he felt at his chest. She smiles, her cheeks getting more red.

"That you should stop flirting with me 'cause i was hard to forget." She said with a lazy smile as she kissed his face.

"Well you were right"

"I am always right, I said that too, when you call me an arrogant, knowing-all b*tch."

As Pedri was to answer, the woman's phone rang, she picked it up from the bedside table, and the name "Henry" showed on screen, making Pedri rudely distance himself from her. She rolls her eyes as she answers the call, and soon her face turns pale, Pedri watches her with worry.

"What happened? Baby..." She gets up from the bad, "Do not cry, please, don't cry. Mommy it's going to pick you up, my Axel." Her choked voice and the mention of the name make Pedri stand up and approach the woman, who was trembling nervously.

"Let me talk to someone," she says, Pedri stops in front of her. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING WITH HIM? HE IS JUST A CHILD!" she screamed sterically, her voice full of pain, making Pedri holding her arms, and try to calm her down. "That always happens, every time, he's just a baby, and every time you guys do this to him." She goes silent for a moment, Pedri felt his heart beating so hard that he could hear the thuds echoing in his ears. "I'll go get him" she says firmly, " I don't care how late it is. I'm not leaving my son like this." She ends the call and then throws the phone on the bed, her hands covering her face as she collapses and cries uncontrollably. Pedri embraces her, his chest full of concern for the woman and the little boy.

"Isa, what happened? Is Axel hurt?" he asks.

"I need to go," she says, stepping away from the player.

"I'm coming with you" She pushed Pedri away.

"No, you're not, you don't need to." She says coldly.

"I'm not letting you go anywhere alone, not in this state," he says firmly as he gathers their things around the room. Isa looks at him with apprehension and suspicion. Pedri couldn't understand her action. He holds the door, waiting for her to leave the room, and then she huffs in frustration and follows him outside.

Once in the car, Pedri gives her his hoodie that was in the backseat of his car, as thanks to him, the woman's dress was ruined. He drives to the address she had given him, the journey in complete silence except for the sound of the woman typing incessantly on her phone. As they arrive at the destination, Isa takes a deep breath and then looks at the player.

"Pedri, please, promise me, no matter what you see or hear, you don't leave the car, understood? Or you'll make things difficult for me." The desperation in the woman's voice made Pedri's stomach sick; not knowing what was happening was making him desperate. "You'll make things difficult for Axel," she says before he could say anything. And, reluctantly, Pedri agrees with the woman, as he would never do anything to harm the child.

He watches as the woman gets out of the car and rushes into the yard of a house, calling out for Axel. A blond woman emerges from the house and points a finger at Isa. They engage in a heated discussion, but he cannot hear their words. Then he sees Isa push the woman and hastily enter the house. Everything falls silent for a few minutes, and his heart races so fast that he wonders how he hasn't had a heart attack yet. After a few minutes, he sees Isa emerging from the house, holding Axel in her arms. She walks briskly towards the car, with the blond woman following her, screaming insults. Isa quickly jumps into the car with Axel, and the back door closes behind them.

"You can go now," she says, and Pedri turns around to look at her. Her face is red from crying. Pedri starts the car and drives away, not knowing exactly where to go, but deciding to wait before asking as Isa is talking to Axel. "It's okay, love. You're okay now." She says in a calm voice, trying to calm down the little boy.

"I don't want to come back, I don't want to stay with them, they're all mean to me," he cried so hard that Pedri stopped the car, deeply concerned for the kid, as he had never seen him cry like that before.

"You don't have to, Mommy promises you won't go back there, at least if it's something you want." Pedri turns to look at them, observing the woman wiping the tears from the little one's face and giving him a tight hug. Their eyes meet, and Pedri sees so much pain in hers.

"What's going on? This is tearing me apart," he says as he gestures towards them.

"Pedriiii?" Axel spun so quickly to look at the player that Pedri feared he had snapped his neck. He leaped from Isa's arms to the front seat and hugged Pedri tightly. Pedri simply held him back, while Isa looked on in complete awe at her son's rapid change of mood.

"I'll finally be able to eat my candies," the little boy says with a sweet excited voice.

"Axel!!" Isa says laughing at the boy's innocence.

*********************************************

N/A: SOOOOOO, what did you guys think? Writing the last part, breaks my heart, because I know their situation, me being mean for not telling you guys 😏

So, the next chapter will be the penultimate one, and then there will be the final one, and then the bonus. As mentioned in the previous chapter. Of course, it all depends on how much the characters are talking to me as well...

[natsury-kazuki]

Valentine cards 2024

Hi, this time I found them all at once, enjoy the answers from our dear NRC students and teachers! :)

----

HEARTSLABUYL

My dear friend

Thank you for your gift. I’m not an expert, but I once read that this type of thing can help relaxation. I’ll certainly try it out soon? I’ll make you herbal tea sometime as a token of my gratitude.

Riddle Rosehearts

-

Heya, pal-

I never thought you'd get me something so fancy! It's got just the kind of scent I like. You've got perfect taste. I'm gonna use it soon-thanks! As for what to give you in return, well.. Got any requests? Just don't go too overboard.

Ace Trappola

-

My good friend-

Thanks for the gift! I didn't think it'd be something so fancy. You've got a good eye for this stuff, Prefect! It's nice having a fresh scent in my room to help me focus when I'm studying! Wait until you see what grade I get on my next test.

Deuce Spade

-

Eyyy, friendo!

Thanks for the totes' Cammable gift! It looks nice, AND it's

got a fragrance that's right up Cay-Cay's alley. I'm super excited for the gift-back, and hope you are, too! I'm gonna get you something you'll be amped to post about on Magicam.

Cater Diamond

-

Hello, friend-

Thank you for the lovely gift. I've been busy lately, so it's nice to have something to help me relax. You're always going the extra mile for everyone around you. I'll bring some homemade sweets over soon to say thanks, okay?

Trey Clover

---

SAVANACLAW

Hey-

Allow me to thank you for your generous gift. Heh. Can't believe you actually picked out a halfway decent fragrance. I might actually keep this. I thought about sending you something in return if the mood struck me, but this thank-you note should do the job just fine, right?

Leona Kingscholar

-

Hey-

Thanks for the gift! I don't buy things that aren't albsolute necessities, so it's nice getting something like this. Don't get me wrong, though. I'm REALLY not picky when it comes to people giving me presents, so feel free to keep giving me whatever you like!

Ruggie Bucchi

-

Hi.

Thanks for the gift. This is the kind of subtle fragrance I can see myself using, I don't like being indebted to others, so I'll think of something to send in return so we're even. Don't expect too nuch. Just sit tight.

Jack Howl

---

OCTAVINELLE

My boon companion-

Thank you for your wonderful gift. You have quite the eye for quality and chose a fine fragrance. That said, I prefer not to accept gifts without providing anything in return. Expect something from me of equivalent value soon.

Azul Ashengrotto

-

My good friend-

Thank you for your lovely present. Did you know that morays have keen senses of smell? I'll quite enjoy this. I'd like to treat you to a drink at the Mostro Lounge in return. What do you say?

Jade Leech

-

Dear Little Shrimpy-

What a neat choice for a present. Did you pick out this scent 'cause it reminded you of me? Kinda funny if this is the vibe I give you. I guess I'll use it if I feel like it. No promises.

Floyd Leech

---

SCARABIA

To my dear friend

Thanks for the gift. You picked this fragrance out for me,right? I’m flattered! Ooh, I know? Next time you’re in a gift-giving mood, you could take me shopping to help pick it out! The more the merrier, right? Then again, that might defeat the purpose of the gift… But let’s not sweat the details!

Kalim Al-Asim

-

Hello

I was surprised enough just to receive a gift from you, but a fragrance? You never fail to surprise. It couldn’t have been easy selecting this. I’ll have to gift you something appropriate in return

Jamil Viper

---

POMEFIORE

Dearest friend-

Thank you for your gift. It was a rather thoughtful choice; I can use this when I'm doing stretches. What would you like in return, I wonder? You're getting something hand-picked by me, so I've no doubt you'll be pleasantly surprised.

Vil Schornheit

-

 Bonjour-

And merci boucoup! Did you choose this just for me? I'm delighted. The design is so lovely and elegant. I normally avoid using fragrances unless it's a special occasion, in which case I shall happily wear one-the one you gave me, of course.

Rook Hunt

-

Dear classmate—

Thanks for the gift! I don't know much about fragrances, but this one's mighty fine! It makes my dorm room feel a smidge more fancy. I'd better get you something nice in return. Its kinda fun thinking up ideas for that.

Epel Felmier  

---

IGNIHYDE

@YOU

Uh, are u saying I stink? Is this like a passive-aggressive gesture or sth? I have questions but since u gave it to me, I greatefully accept? I donc’t pay much attention to grangrances, but this one smelled p. dece when I gave it a whiff.

Idia Shroud

-

Hello, Perfect

Thank you for the gift! It’s a fragrance, right? So this is how you perceive me? That’s fascinating! I’m about to do a thorough analysis of its composition? Who knows? I might discover something neat. Let me know what fragrances you’re into sometimes!

Ortho shroud

---

DIASOMNIA

To my good friend-

Thank you for your gift. Hmm... This fragrance is meant for pleasure and relaxation? What a tasteful choice. I rather like it; perhaps I shall take more of an interest in these things. You would be welcome to pay me a visit, by the way, should you feel so inclined. I would enjoy sharing an old tale or two. –

Malleus Draconia

-

Salutations-

Thank you for your gift. This smell is so nice and relaxing, it makes me want to nod off. I hope this improves the quality of my sleep and helps me to wake up sooner when my alarm clocks go off. I'll let you know how it goes, Hopefully well.

Silver

-

Human-

I've received your gift. Fragrances are a part of one's personal grooming, and you had the nerve to gift one to ME? Challenge accepted. I'll come up with the perfect thing to return the sentiment. You're going to get what's coming to you-mark my words!

Sebek Zigvolt

-

Greetings!

Thank you for picking something out for me. It's a rather nice gift. Immersing myself in an unusual fragrance reminds me of my days visiting other lands. I know! I should cook you some foreign cuisine as a token of gratitude! I can hardly wait.

Lilia Vanrouge

---

NRC STAFF

Dear esteemed student

I was quite taken aback when an unexpected package arrived at the headmage’s office ! To think you would send me something so thoughtful… Hmmm. This fragrance suits my taste nicely. Normally I wouldn’t be able to accept personal gifts, but I think I’ll make an exception for this, seeing as I’m so kind,

Dire Crowel

-

Dear pup

What is this? Giving personal gifts to teachers is hardly good pup behavior. But the moment I opened the wrapping, I could tell you picked this out for me. This design is suitable enough, as is the fragrance itself. I suppose I must commend your knack for gift-giving. Good boy.

Divus Crewel

-

Dear juvenile

I generally decline gifts from students, but you clearly chose this scent out of respect for me. I won’t use it around Lucius, but it might be nice to use in the staff room every once in a while? I gratefully accept.

Mozus Trein

-

Dear student

What is this? Did I give you homework assignment that involved getting me a present? Kidding, of course. This is the perfect scent for a guy as cool as me! I’ll teach you how to make my signature Vargas protein drink in return!

Ashton Vargas

-

Heya, my little imp!

What is up? Did you pick this out just for me? It’s fantastic scent, thanks! If you’re interested in this type of thing, I happen to have a fine looking forward to your next visit.

SAM

---

Other

Dear minion

Mrah?! I was expecting tuna, but instead I get some weird thing called fragrance? What IS this thing? I woulda taken tuna in a heartbeat, but since my hench-human picked this out for me, I guess a proper boss would put it to good use. Be grateful for my kindness, partner!

Grim

[mysticarts]

silly little Gunntech Au oc

(ft me about to ramble, be ready yall-)

Soo, I've become obsessed with @elmushterri Gunntech Au (context: Gunntech AU is a AU where the show PJ masks is a show for more mature audiences for teens, think owl house!) They also made a video about this, just look up 'What if PJ Masks' and most likely they're video will pop up first!

(Note I'm using they them pronouns for Elmuehterri cause idk their pronouns and I wanna be respectful-)

And I remember from Elmushterri's video, they mentioned Octobella, and how she could be a failed experiment. Now, I belive Gunntech aren't quitters, so I think they'd try again to recreate what Octobella was supposed to be, and actually succeeded. Thus, introducing my oc....

Kailani 'Kai' Whitlock

Now, I made Kailani here like any other of the PJ masks charater's.

Kailani's dad (who I have not named yet) worked for Gunntech. so when Octobella failed, Kailani's dad offered her as a test subject. And since Kailani wanted to get proper attention from her father she didn't mind. Hence the truama that impacted her

Considering Kailani is a octopus, I had to do a lot of studying. I mean, she has to have some Octopus traits. So I do have some, I shall state it in a list

The first thing I did was give Kailani some height, I tried to atleast. Considering how long octopus's tentacles are, I imagine in replacement, it really long arms and legs, hence her height

2. I Made Kailani colorblind! Octopuses are color blind to, but make up for it with their color changing bodies, odd pupils, color sensing arms, so I'm Applying that to Kailani. Kailani did see color before she was taken in as a test subject, then she became colorblind

3. Google states that Octopuses usually live in tropical areas so I made Kailani born in Hawaii! (She moved though when she was born)

4. From studying, I have found out that Octopuses have three hearts. I don't know if that should be applied to Kailani or not. I'm just going with that her heart is just bigger than most others, so Kailani can be a little more athletic than her peers.

5. Due to the experiments, Kailani's blood is blue (yes, Octopuses actually have blue blood) because of this, Kailani never tries to get hurt. She dosent want to make her dad angry

(Here's a concept sketch of younger Kailani during her test subject days)

as for Personality, I made Kailani very shy. Sure, she's extremely smart for her age, not to mention very creative. Mention something Kailani likes and she'll be willing to yap about it hours on end. However, she has extremely strong loyalty, all she wants is to be accepted and actually loved, so if helping Gunntech means she can earn her father's love, she'll put all of her energy for Gunntech

As how she works for Gunntech, I imagine they call on Kailani if they need someone to be held down or need help moving things (considering with Octopuses strength they can lift more than 700 pounds)

but, when not being a person who could fight someone off, I imagine they'd use Kailani as a strategist. Octopuses are actually very smart, and considering the human mind plus Octopus traits, Kailani would be making or hashing out ideas or theories to take down the 'villans' not realizing she's working for the bad guy.

Anyway, here's her concept suit design

Now I shall relax before I have to suffer at school tomorrow

Edit: I forgot to mention this, but I made Kailani have the hugest crush on Greg (she hasn't made a move cause she's too shy)

Now, if you guys have questions or want to know more about Kailani, I'm glad to give you answers!

[kookstempo]

in the end, it's him and i - jjk

pairing(s): taehyung x reader if u squint, jungkook x reader, brief mentions of namjoon x oc

genre(s): fluff and smut.

word count: 5.4K

warnings: some strong language, both jungkook and y/n being idiots lol. for the spicy content: fingering in front of a mirror, dirty talk, praise, mentions of an erection. (hope i'm not forgetting anything).

summary: how long will it take until the dam bursts and one of you says what the other one longs to hear?

masterlist

A/N: i gotta thank my beautiful @daechwitatamic because she's always there to help me, she read this SO FAST (wtf). pls go check her profile <3

he had grown so used to it that he kept looking for it the first time you stopped doing it. with a silent, simple tug on your shirt or a whine whenever you’d cut the hugs or kisses a second short. full of hesitance, you’d simply wrap your arms around him tightly, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath; you’d cup his jaw with your slightly tremorous hand, pulling him to your mouth again as he had wordlessly begged you to.

meanwhile, for you? you noticed it that time he held your wrist as you walked behind him between the crowd. his touch had never meant anything special outside the bedroom, until that night. he had made you feel a thousand things in mere seconds, your heart lighting up the same way the buildings’ lights lit up the street. it was amazing how something as basic as holding one’s wrist had helped you put the puzzle pieces together. suddenly, it made sense how you kept running away from his touch when possible, skipping reunions where you knew he would be.

because your heart couldn’t handle the truth. it couldn’t bear knowing that jeon jungkook only belonged to you behind closed doors, between messy sheets and underclothed bodies, where only whispered pleas were welcomed and not love confessions, nothing but lust. and as much as it hurt, it only hurt more trying to deprive yourself of him.

“y/n?” his voice calls, warm hand finding its place on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.

“i’m sorry, yes you can press play.” placing your hand on top of his, you give it a squeeze back and lean backwards on the couch, looking for a way to ease your internal discomfort by getting comfortable externally.

“it’s been rolling for at least seven minutes, angel…” he trails off, not being able to take his eyes off your constant fidgeting with the blanket you were sharing. “are you okay?” 

“mhm,” was the only thing that left your throat, making sure it came with a reassuring - yet very fake - smile to ease the tension. everything screamed that he didn’t believe you, knowing him well enough to notice it was a huge effort from him to stay quiet and not ask any more questions. jungkook thought it was best to let you be. maybe his touch was offending you? or was it the pet names he had decided to use for you as they were worth it only for you? one thing you hadn’t managed to notice, though, was the fact that his hands were the fidgety ones now. they were itching to pull you closer to him and wrap his arms around your waist like you’re used to every movie night.

“it was hilarious because taehyung was complaining about her, talking about how she had eaten the last donut and that it was his favorite flavour and he hadn’t eaten a single one. suddenly, she enters the office and you just hear him go: ‘good morning, miranda!’” tone chirpy and mocking, seokjin tells the story from his point of view, not being able to hold back the cackles that leave his lips.

“taehyung! i didn’t know you despised her that much.” covering your mouth, unlike seokjin, you giggle quietly.

“i just know you wouldn’t have done that to me, you would’ve defended that donut with your last breath,” the aforementioned man rolls his eyes, head resting on your shoulder as a pout rests on his lips.

“i’ve already apologized thrice. i was in a meeting, okay?” you shake your head as a smile slowly makes its way onto your face, looking down at taehyung and ruffling his hair.

"you look like you want to explode his head." yoongi whispers, next to jungkook who’s been looking at your interaction with a clenched jaw and his tongue prodding his cheek.

"i'm trying." jungkook admits, glaring at taehyung like he had just insulted his family when all he was doing was acting cute with you. with a forkful of pasta into his mouth, he decides to take his eyes off you, knowing deep inside him it was useless feeling like that when you were coming home with him at the end of the evening. or that’s what he hoped.

“anyone up for dessert? i am full, but my sweet tooth is asking me for that cheesecake i read on the menu. i’m willing to share.” looking around for someone wanting to share the creamy dessert with you, you lean forward, resting your weight on your forearms.

“me, me! i’ve been eyeing that cheesecake since we arrived, too.” taehyung chirps, eagerly raising his hand to call the waitress’ attention. his eagerness is short-lived, though, since jungkook speaks up.

“i want cheesecake, too. you think i could share with the two of you?” 

“uh… let me ask the waitress how big the slice is.” shooting jungkook a tiny smile, you turn your attention to the kind waitress who is expectant.

in the end, you two do end up sharing the slice with jungkook, as it turned out he only wanted “a couple of spoonfuls” of the dessert. he is not a cheesecake guy, which makes you wonder what had caused him to suddenly crave some of the dessert.

leaving your bills to pay your part of the check, you get up and walk to the restroom, letting everyone know they could head out if done before you came back. they tend to complain about how long you take in the restroom, and knowing jungkook is waiting for you to ride together, you make sure you hurry.

your memory sometimes fails you. and one of those cases is tonight as you can’t seem to locate jungkook or his car. letting your legs lead you to where you think you might be able to find him, you recognize taehyung’s back and hair. he might know where jungkook is.

“for god’s sake, dude. just confess your fucking feelings for her,” taehyung groans at the younger man’s behavior, covering his face.

that sentence alone makes you halt, leaning back against the brick wall so they can’t see you. eavesdropping is not appropriate, but right this moment it feels like it is. 

has he had feelings for someone else this whole time he’s been fucking you? are you his go-to option when he needs it?

“what are you talking about? we were talking about cheesecake and now you’re telling me i should confess to y/n?” jungkook scoffs, about to walk away when taehyung grabs his wrist, preventing him from leaving. 

“you don’t get all whiny over cheesecake, jeon. all it took was me saying i wanted to share dessert with her for you to go all ‘oh i want dessert, too’ when you weren’t even halfway done with your pasta. you kept giving me death stares if i even breathed around her.” 

“whatever,” jungkook laughs, a little too loud for his liking, making him scrunch his nose. “i’m not going to confess my feelings just because of some cheesecake.” he mocks taehyung in the last word, carefully releasing his wrist from the man’s grip, walking to the car.

does that mean… no, he never confirmed it. 

“jungkook!” you call him, jogging to where he is, “are we still on for tonight? you were about to leave without me.” you adjust your purse that’s almost falling off your shoulder, rocking back and forth on your tiptoes.

“yeah, i’ve been looking forward to it all night,” he confesses, pulling you closer to his body by your waist. one of his hands removes your purse from your body, the other cupping your cheek. “you ready?”

“yeah! bye, tae-tae,” you wave at the man, flashing him a smile before getting inside the car.

the traffic at this hour is never heavy, if anything, it’s the best it’s ever been. the wind coming from outside is making you get goosebumps, but it’s nothing jungkook’s hand on your leg can’t provide relief to.

his phone lights up just as you’re reaching the last traffic light before his house.

taehyung [21:02]: i’m pretty sure she heard us talking. just so you know.

jungkook scans his phone screen, reading the text quickly before shutting off the device and placing it somewhere else where it won’t distract him.

“what did tae want?” you ask, tilting your head. 

“nothing important,” he murmurs, tone leaving no room for discussion as he speeds off once the traffic light turns green. “is it my turn to pick the movie tonight?” trying to change the topic, jungkook squeezes your thigh and parks the car smoothly, but doesn’t get out yet.

“uh, i think? but maybe i can bribe you with some kisses? there’s this movie i really wanna watch,” you confess, leaning over the console once your seatbelt is off, your face dangerously close to his.

“bribing me, huh? okay, hit me with your best shot,” he smirks, hungrily latching his lips to yours, hands holding your cheek softly - the perfect juxtaposition to the way he laps at your mouth.

the kiss rides like a wave - intense when needed, but also soft at times, steadying you and leaving you craving for more. more him, more jungkook, all the time. 

“mmm get inside before i change my mind,” jungkook whispers against your lips, already chasing them for more, but you’re quicker than him, getting out of the car and using your set of keys to unlock the door.

he seems pretty compliant tonight, agreeing to everything you say, letting you kiss him all you want even if you had bribed him already to choose the movie… yet he never complains, never says anything about how you’re not paying attention to the movie, eating at him or his snacks.

“did you bring your pajamas this time?” jungkook turns to look at you, moving some strands of hair off your face so he can look at the blush that’s starting to cover your cheeks. “i’m gonna take that as a no.” he snickers at your pretty much silent response, pausing the movie and pulling you to his lap.

“i keep forgetting them. i don’t really use them around you, but they’re pretty and comfortable,” a pout takes over your lips, playing with the hem of his shirt.

“i mean, i’m never against seeing you in my clothes. but you gotta start remembering to pack your pajamas, y/n.” jungkook carefully secures an arm around your waist as he moves to take off his shirt, letting it rest on your lap once taken off. “put it on. let’s get our pajamas on and then we’ll continue with the movie, sounds good?”

you nod, giving his nose a tiny kiss, enough to hear him chuckle and make you leave with a smile on your face. the floor feels cold under your bare feet as you make your way to the bathroom next to his room; the night is chilly enough that you already know you’re gonna be seeking jungkook’s body warmth throughout the night since you tend to get cold pretty easily.

it's almost like your heart is inside a cage and fighting to be set free the second jungkook's fingers trace your curves. every square inch of your body responds to him - blushing, smiling, getting goosebumps. your body knows better than your mind. and as much as you try to tell yourself that you don't have feelings for him, you do. you hope he does, too.

slipping the cotton material over your body, you look at your reflection on the mirror, adjusting the shirt so it covers your body the most it can. his shirt smells like him, like the cologne that drives you crazy and can’t get enough of. a knock interrupts your train of thought, and you open the door for him to come in as you move away from the door to collect your clothes and fold them.

“wanna know something funny?” is the first thing jungkook says as he sees you, leaning against the door frame, shamelessly eyeing your figure.

“what’s up?” you turn to him, looking at him as you finish folding your pants, recognizing the hunger in his stare but saying nothing about it.

“as i was getting dressed this morning, i kept picturing you in my clothes every time i picked out a shirt,” he starts, taking a few steps to be closer to you. “wondering which shirt of mine would look best on you. but now…” his tongue wets his lip, removing the pants from your hands and putting them next to the sink.

“n-now?” you murmur dumbly, waiting for him to keep talking.

“i think i picked it for another reason.” he pulls you closer to his body by the shirt, cradling your face in his hands. “i think i picked what shirt to wear based on what i wanted you to wear as i fucked you. or as i took it off your body.” he simply states, moving one hand down to your neck. he doesn’t even bother to apply pressure on it, he just lets his hand rest there.

"so what are you gonna do? are you gonna keep it on or should we take it off?" you trace the ink on his forearm, moving your head to place a kiss on his palm.

"wouldn't want you getting cold, would we?" his hands move you in mere seconds, letting your pelvis rest against the edge of the vanity, right in front of the mirror. 

you can see him, can see the way he puts your hair up in a messy ponytail so he has space to scatter kisses around your neck, decorating it with a couple of marks. your hands replace his on your hair, holding it up the way he wants it. jungkook hums, pleased, while you quietly gasp when his hands move to your inner thighs, making you spread them wider so his hands can roam freely where they want to.

“mmm, good girl.” he praises, his fingers leaving feather-like touches on your clothed cunt before they wrap around the waistband of your underwear. jungkook crouches down as he removes them, leaving a trail of kisses on your legs, too. 

“no matter,” he starts, hugging you by the waist once he’s back to his full height, “how hard i try, you’re always on my mind. it’s not fair.” 

“it’s as fair as it can be. you’re always on mine, too,” you whisper to him, almost like you’re telling him a secret, even if it’s just the two of you in the room. 

maybe it is a secret with the way you’re baring your heart to him by saying that.

silence follows your words, filling your chest with something close to restlessness. had it been too much? did you cross the line with your words? your gaze moves to the floor, enjoying his embrace the most you can because you’re sure he’s gonna step away–

“look at me. not at my reflection, but at me,” he orders, and you’re surprised by the way you quickly obey, without second thoughts.

“what’s going on in that little head of yours, angel?” jungkook whispers, hovering your lips, giving you space to talk freely.

jungkook’s not sure what just happened. he is sure, though, that with the way your expression fell in that moment, he doesn’t wanna see that again, ever. the sincerity in your eyes when you confessed that he’s constantly in your mind too had made him feel… something. not sure what to make of it, but with a persistent thought in his head:

taehyung was right.

“i want you.” you respond after a while, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. your nose nudges his playfully, a grin on your mouth rapidly replaced by his lips on yours.

jungkook kisses you as if he’s never going to see you again, feeling lonely when your mouth’s not on his, when your body is half an inch further than he’d like it to be. his lips chase yours, they chase the sweet, lingering taste of the chamomile tea you had drank during the movie.

the movie. he doesn’t even know what the fuck it had been about since he was just thinking about you, when you were next to him the whole time. what if taehyung found the way to your heart and stole you from him? he should confess, shouldn’t he?

at least he’s past the denial phase. 

your confession should be more than enough for him to know you probably feel the same too. unless you’re constantly thinking about him because you’re needy, because you want him. 

deciding to shove those thoughts away, he pulls away from the kiss, pushing you with a hand on your back so your chest is against the vanity, making you hiss at its coldness.

“thought you were gonna fuck me with it on,” you confess, angling your hips so they’re slightly lifted. you rest your chin on your forearms, finding a comfortable position; you know you’ll be here for a long time before he fucks you. 

“tsk, who says i’m not? don’t be greedy,” he tsks, running his cold hands over the warm skin of your butt, squeezing it a little. “i don’t think i’ve ever fucked you in front of a mirror, have i?”

“nuh-uh. there’s always a first time with you.”

there’s this side to you that only comes out when jungkook’s around. he knows who you truly are and helps you express that side, a judgment-free zone if you will. if restlessness ever clouds your thoughts, a look from jungkook is all you need for everything to quiet down and dissipate.

“keep your eyes on me, or i’ll stop.” jungkook leans down to leave a trail of kisses on your upper back, allowing you to feel his hard-on right on your butt. “y/n.” biting down on your skin, hard enough to leave a tiny mark, he tilts his head when you only blink at him, whining desperately. “did you hear what i said?”

“yeah, yeah, not taking my eyes off you,” you reply, gripping the counter as his fingers make contact with your now-bare cunt, collecting your wetness before easing two fingers in one go.

every drag of his fingers inside you manages to turn you into a moaning mess, legs trembling because of his touch, eyes trained on his just like he expected. it takes a huge effort from you to not close your eyes once he curls his fingers, aiming for your g-spot.

“look so pretty bent over the sink for me, aren’t you my pretty girl?” he whispers, hot breath fanning in your ear as the fingers from his free hand move to rub your clit, enjoying the way he can tell you’re about to lose it. when jungkook has you like this, you let your inhibitions get lost. your body trusts jungkook, feeling safe under him, letting him do whatever he wants to you because you know he would never hurt you.

it’s about time your heart trusts him, too.

you manage to nod, trying to keep your eyes open as he instructed you to. the sound of your whimpers and loud moans fill the bathroom; as jungkook pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, you lean your head on his shoulder, turning your head so you can kiss his neck.

“words, princess. let me hear you say it.” he requests, slowing his thrusts as he expects your reply.

“i-i’m your pretty g-girl. i’m jungkook’s pretty girl,” you whine, hips having a mind of their own and rutting against his hand to get some more friction.

“what was that? i’m sure you can be louder. no need to be shy.” he pouts, smirking condescendingly right after he angles his palm so your clit rubs against it, thumb wiping the fallen tears on your cheeks.

“i’m your pretty girl, fuck! jungkook, please. i need you.” moving your head to face him through the mirror, your hands grip his forearms in order to control yourself. “yours, all yours. just– take me, please.”

he takes his sweet time with you that night, reminding you that you’re his, and reassuring himself he’s not gonna lose you. even if the voices in his head wouldn’t shut up about how he could lose you any second, the way your hands reach out for him so you can hold him a little longer, how you won’t stop showering him with kisses as your eyes struggle to stay open because of how tired he has left you… 

eventually, sleep wins the fight. you pull the blanket jungkook got you closer to your body, scooting closer to his body - his chest has always been more comfortable to you than a pillow - and clinging to him like a koala. 

he can’t take his eyes off you. you’re laying there, asleep, and he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him. when jungkook used to think about you, he’d either picture you naked or as someone who’d be there unconditionally like the great friend you are. 

however, now? he cannot focus on anything other than your lips and how he yearns to kiss them over and over again just to hear your muffled, angelical giggles; how your body feels meant to be next to his like two puzzle pieces.

despite the fact that everyone can see how much time you two spend together, they know you’re not dating. they know about your - basically - best friends-with-benefits relationship, leaving both of you on the market. all that jungkook can think about is changing everyone’s line of reasoning from “they’re fucking” to “they’re dating”, they’re in a relationship”.

yeah, he’s screwed.

he feels like his heart is gonna explode, and he tries to convince himself with all of his might that it’s because of the way you look tonight and not because of taehyung’s arm around your waist as you both move to the table you got assigned for tonight. if he could rip it off your body, he would, but the weight of someone else’s body on his arm reminds him you’re not his date, this other girl is. he’s walking with somebody else, too, so he has to keep it together for the sake of jimin’s party. 

when jimin sent the invitation to the group chat, both of you felt excited and had already started to plan what you’d wear, who was going to drive who, and what you two were going to gift him. the conversation fell when you reached the bottom of the invitation, where in bold, it said: remember to bring a date!

sure, it said other things, but that was all both of you could focus on.

“so… uh, you and i are not dating–” 

“yeah,” you squeak, interrupting jungkook. “we aren’t, so we should find a date, right?”

“yup, you could go with taehyung! he’d love that,” jungkook lets out an insincere laugh, keeping himself busy with another app to stop thinking about how badly he wanted to be your date. 

fast forward to today and jealousy is eating him alive. that night, he had texted jimin privately, asking him to sit you at another table in order to keep his feelings controlled, to be able to spend time with leslie, his date for the party. now, he doesn’t know if it was a good idea. 

you two fit perfectly together, he realizes. he’s mesmerized by you, the color of your dress suits your skin incredibly well and he finds himself smiling when he sees the way you grin at the others at your table, greeting them quickly in order to continue listening to whatever taehyung is telling you.

right, taehyung. 

he’s one second away from getting up, chair in hand, to sit between the two of you because he can’t stand one of his closest friends taking his place, talking to his girl. 

“is everything okay?” leslie asks, noticing jungkook’s clenched jaw and tight grip on the tablecloth. 

“what? yeah, why do you ask?” he turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed together subconsciously. he’s quick to soften his gaze, moving his chair so it’s closer to leslie’s.

“you seemed… angry, i don’t know. if something’s bothering you, we can leave,” she suggests, wrapping a hand around his wrist, trying to intertwine her fingers with his.

“the party hasn’t even started,” he scoffs, pressing his lips together right after. “sorry, i’ll keep it in mind, okay? i’m just a little distracted, had a small situation at work before coming here, that’s why i was late.”

because he was certainly not debating whether he should go to the party if it meant seeing you with somebody else. nah, not at all.

jungkook manages to keep his feelings at bay for the second half of the night. almost like the situation had been flipped around since you’re the one about to lose it now. 

the food was delicious, taehyung kept making you laugh every now and then with his funny stories and bad jokes, you had also met namjoon’s girlfriend, kimberly. everything was sailing smoothly. jungkook who?

that was, of course, until he and his date joined the other couples on the dancefloor. you feel like they’re dancing on top of your table, too close for your liking. too close to you, too close to each other. leslie keeps laughing like a teenager in love at prom; at this point, you think he’s a second away from kissing her if you don’t do something soon. taehyung’s deep in conversation with jimin, so that leaves you without your dance partner.

almost as if he’d read your mind, jimin stands up and pulls the two of you to the dancefloor. taehyung moves his free arm to be able to reach your hand, making sure you don’t get lost in the crowd. bingo, you think to yourself, standing up and reaching for his hand, securing your grip on his.

“i love this song, i was about to interrupt your conversation,” you confess, taking advantage of the position you’re in now that taehyung spun you around to the rhythm of the music to peek around the room, trying to locate jungkook. 

your eyes meet his almost instantly, your gaze changing from soft to something close to “did i interrupt something?” when you see how close leslie’s mouth is to his. jungkook steps away from her at breakneck speed, making you smirk now that your line of sight is not infected. you don’t mind taehyung pulling you closer to his body if it means giving jungkook a taste of his own medicine. besides, his grip feels snug. 

“didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” taehyung’s warm breath in your ear startles you.

“we’ve never had the privilege of dancing together, have we?” the music is loud enough, almost like you’re in a club, making you lean to talk in his ear too.

you don’t step away or move your head when taehyung cups your cheek and makes you look at him, not even when he tilts his head and his eyes flutter shut, lips mere inches away from yours. 

“y/n, i think i left my gift in your car, can we go get it?” jungkook’s voice is heard out of nowhere, making taehyung jump and step away from you.

“but we didn’t even r–”

“now,” he growls, reaching for your hand.

there’s a tiny window open for you to refuse if you don’t want to listen to him. jungkook could be filled with rage, but he’d never force you to do something you don’t feel like doing. the moment you take your hand in his, he leads you to the hallway, hoping you two could have a decent conversation.

“this is not the way to the parking lot, i should’ve guessed you were bringing me somewhere else since we didn’t ride together, but i still don’t understand what we’re doing–”

you’re hotly interrupted by jungkook. “were you about to kiss taehyung?”

“were you about to kiss leslie before i caught you redhanded?” you closely scrutinize his body language. 

he is not going to put the blame on you, oh hell no.

“i think i asked you first, y/n. were you, or were you not?” he questions you again, tongue prodding his cheek.

“last time i checked, you’re not blind. you definitely saw my lips hovering over his, his hands on my waist, my chest pressed to his…” you trail off, biting your lip to contain the smirk that’s about to take place on your lips.

“if you were so okay with him kissing you, why did you get all bothered by me being close to leslie? if i recall correctly, she was standing close to me like this,” he pulls you to him by the waist, wrapping your arms around his neck. “and i was here…” he leans down, about to kiss you until you push him off you.

“if you wanna go kiss her, just go. sorry i interrupted your majestic movie scene with my jealousy.” it escapes your mouth before you could even think twice about it. your arms, that were still wrapped around his neck, leave his body in order for you to be able to cover your mouth.

“what was that? i’m sure you can be louder. no need to be shy.” he uses the same sentence he uttered the other day in his bathroom, enjoying the way you get all flustered. 

“imma go shove my tongue down taehyung’s throat. this is a waste of time.” you spit, eyeing him up and down before turning around and taking a couple of steps.

“over my dead body, get the fuck back here and kiss me,” he practically growls, making you halt in your steps.

“not so cool picturing the other person about to kiss someone else who’s not you, is it?” you reply, back still turned to him.

“i was not joking when i said you should kiss me. i was also not joking when i called you my pretty girl the other day.” 

that makes you turn to look at him. 

“it was the heat of the moment, don’t twist your words.” you’re able to recognize when jungkook is bullshitting his way through life, and you hope this is not one of those moments because that is the closest thing you’re ever gonna get to a confession coming from him.

“i’m not.” he simply states, walking up to you. “if what you felt tonight was indeed jealousy, then i’m not ashamed to say i’ve spent the whole night imagining it was me holding your hand in front of everyone, holding you close, making you laugh and dancing so close to you.”

“why now?” you ask, deciding to break the one-step barrier between the two of you, being able to spit one question out of the thousand in your head.

“because i hated seeing someone else take my place, and i’ve tried to hide it. i’ve tried to ignore these feelings, but i can’t anymore.” he gulps, throwing his head back in exasperation. “my date, you were supposed to be my date. not leslie.”

“why didn’t you say something?” 

“why didn’t you say something?” jungkook returns the question, obviously a nervous mess because of your interrogation.

“look, can we pretend i never mentioned i felt jealous? it was stupid and useless and this conversation’s going nowhere.” typical you trying to escape everything that seems complicated.

“too bad, y/n. because i’m not letting you go so easily now that i know you feel the same way.” 

before you know it, jungkook’s kissing you. if he’s kissed you before, this kiss makes you forget all those previous kisses. nothing feels better than the way jungkook leaves you breathless just by licking your bottom lip, or the way he breaks the kiss for a nanosecond before tilting his head to deepen the second best kiss you’ve ever had. 

the need for air becomes predominant, making you reluctantly step away from him. jungkook is quick to chase your mouth, eyes still closed and a low whine leaving his mouth.

“mmm. let’s go home, ‘kay?” you giggle, cupping his face like he usually does to you.

“i’ll follow you everywhere, y/n.” 

pls don't be a silent reader! i love reading your reactions <3 hope u enjoyed.

just wanna thank everyone for the reblogging, likes, and even follow!! love y’all 🥰

[kissforyouu]

Would you ever write a little drabble or something of oc having a huge reaction & going off at jk & how he responds? Or how he just crumbles lmao like you said he would 😭😂

"but then it didn't make sense, noh? i asked rhea about the theme and it was beach. the clothes they've provided us with are nowhere near beach? i don't know how we're gonna come up with a beachy look with those. i mean, kook, it's literally a long dress. even worse, it's fucking formal! who wears formal to the beach? nobody! but you know what the worst part is? they said we weren't allowed to use the given clothes to make new ones. like, what? that doesn't make sense at all", you continued with your rant, "it's unfair, to be honest. it was just our time and like 2 more out of the entire competition who got these non beachy looking clothes. it doesn't make sense. but we're all thinking of making a complaint. i have to win, you know." you nod, body slanted against the table.

"what do you think—" pause.

"you're not even listening are you?" you glare at your boyfriend, who's been glued to his phone for the past 20 minutes. he's watching some football match. a fucking football match.

he mindlessly nods, pretending to listen. he doesn't even know what you're saying!

"you're not listening to me."

once he just nods again, you groan and then just slap his arm. jungkook jolts at the sudden hit from you, looking up from his phone.

"what?"

"you're not listening to me." you whine.

"hm, no, i was." liar.

"quit lying, jungkook."

"nah, nah, i was." he looks back at his phone again. you hate when he acted like this. makes you feel ignored.

"see! again! you're not listening to me!" you shout, throwing your hands in the air.

jungkook groans, rolling his eyes at you. you gasp, looking at your boyfriend with pure shock. did he just roll his eyes at you? oh no, he didn't!

"my bad."

the short careless responds were annoying you to the core.

"okay." your voice is stern. you get up, stomping your way around his room. he still doesn't bother to look at you or anything, eagerly watching his match. and just because you're such a dramatic spoiled bitch, you grab your bag and put on your shoes. your boyfriend, who was playing with his lower lip, drifts his eyes away from his stupid football match for a moment. and suddenly, he starts panicking.

nah, you were gonna leave. oh he messed up.

"baby, where you going?" his lazy ass finally gets up from his bed, brushing his hands on his sweats as he walked towards you.

you scoff, looking away dramatically.

"home."

"nah, come on, stay." he grips onto your arm tightly.

"no. because my boyfriend who invited ME over isn't paying me any attention because of some stupid fucking football game!"

"baby, i'm so sorry, okay? i didn't realise. now come on, don't go."

you squint your eyes and look at your boyfriend with a glare. and because you love the game, you decline again.

"y/n, i'll be better, come onnn. you can't just leave. i'm sorry i was being an ass to you earlier. please stay. let's cuddle and watch a movie or something. i'll rub your feet and give you a massage too." you try not to break into a laugh at the rubbing your feet part and somehow manage to keep an expressionless face.

"you need to be put on timeout."

"okay, say less."

jungkook walks back to his bed, sits on and faces his wall. he stares at it blankly as if he was a toddler who had just gotten scolded by their parent. the sight was hilarious. god, the things he does because of you. i mean, you didn't mean it literally, but he just accepted it.

"am i good now?" your boyfriend peaks at you slowly. you scowl. he slightly finds it funny and cute at the same time. everything you do is cute for him.

"come on, sweetheart. don't look at me like that." you kiss your teeth at his slightly flirty comment.

"okay. i'll stay." jungkook releases a loud sigh, falling back onto the bed.

"you're so dramatic sometimes."

"I'M LEAVING!"

(okay ik this isn't a major argument but i js thought this would be cute😭😭)

taglist:

@fungie2332 @wintertxt @wheexine @hyunjinswifeee @ohsweetmimosa @canyon-txt @kooreo @rrosiitas @goldenjeonkoo

[ostrichmonkey-games]

OC Incubators: TTRPG Design for Making Cool Little Guys

I've been thinking a lot about why some people like to play Certain Games and how that intersects with action figure style play and the desire to make your own little blorbos.

What is it about Certain Games (which will not be named so I don't go down a rabbit-hole of breaking apart that game's design lmao) that really gets people's sitting down and just making a whole bunch of cool OCs? You know, your zany wizards, sexy demony bards, and all of that.

So, I've talked a lot about this with some people (shoutout to @temporalhiccup), and I'm not the only person to be thinking on similar wavelengths (check out this fun read by @sprintingowl), and in those discussions and in that reading, I've put together a few what I think are Key Ingredients for making ttrpg that is also an OC incubator. At least, in the sense of how I would want to do it.

So first, what is an OC Incubator? My definition is basically any sort of semi-sandbox/open ended game where you make your own cool character and then go do cool things. Along the way of doing those cool things, you come up with cool stories and have your OC evolve in even more cool ways. Cool, yeah?

Here are the key ingredients I've identified for the incubator stew (store bought is fine);

Character Options

Character Potential

An Inviting Sandbox

So let's break these down a bit more below;

Character Options

Character options is the most straightforward of the points. You need interesting and fun options - building blocks - for the players to craft their little guys from. Options that are exciting and easily communicate their core identity quickly.

A lot of this is walking a fine balance of providing enough options that making a choice is exciting, but not too many so as to be overwhelming.

But ultimately, these options are there to hit the dollmaker, picrew, character customization screen, itch. It should be fun to make all those decisions.

Aside: I gotta do more stuff with lifepath systems.

Of all the main ingredients to our incubator, character options are probably the easiest to come up.

Character Potential

This is where things start to get a little more complicated. Potential is all about aspiration. It's less about being able to get to that point, but more about "oh wow, look at all these extra things my cool OC could do".

These options are something to look forward to, something to think about. Neat cool extra doodads for making your cool little oc even cooler and expand on your cool little oc's story like milestones and growth.

In a lot of ways, these sorts of options are just an iteration of the initial character options you use when making your character. These are probably going to expand on core elements of the character options (class or playbook abilities, etc).

Again, the key point is potential and aspiration. To make you think about the future of the character.

I think, ideally, a game is intrinsically rewarding to play. You play it because its fun, not to get some sort of external reward. Play to play. But it also can be fun to put some carrots on the stick.\

As a treat.

Inviting Sandbox

The setting and premise of the game needs to invite players in. It's the big fancy dollhouse for all your cool toys. There needs to be space to play in it, but also there needs to be something to still play in! Some games are operating at an advantage: with well established settings that have been around for years and/or using a setting that utilizes tropes and ideas that also have been established for years. You know. Elves and stuff.

But! You absolutely do not need a well established setting or play with well established tropes to make an inviting sandbox! The main criteria is that it is inviting. Whatever that means to you, go for it. For me, an inviting setting, one that would make me want to play around in, needs;

Enough foundation to guide the play. What are the major players and assumptions of the settings? Give me the overview and broad strokes first!

Enough space for the table to add to while they play in. If every thing is set in stone, then what are we playing in this sandbox for? You need some sand to sculpt! Put some sand in your sandbox!

I could spend a lot more time talking about settings, sandboxes, and how it all circles back to anti-canon, but that's a story for another post.

Mixing It All Together

So, with those ingredients identified, how do you go about layering them all together? How should they interact with each other? And the easy answer is "I don't know, figure it out."

But also, I don't entirely know. You gotta figure that out for yourself. That's part of the design process. I don't think there's one singular way to "design" around getting people to have fun whipping together some cool OCs and then playing around with them together. In many senses, you can do that in practically any game. But for some of my current projects, I want to try keeping the three ingredients in mind as I write the games (particularly Furry Crime Game), and see what happens. Maybe it'll end up hitting the notes I want it to - crafting a game that makes the players constantly rotate their cool little guys in their mind - maybe it'll end up being something else. I dunno, real Ms. Frizzle hours: Get messy, make mistakes.

Also, as I'm writing this out now, I think a potential fourth ingredient to try mixing into the stew is Player Investment. Time, creativity, emotional. It all feeds into the character and different games expect different levels of investment. Something to probably keep in mind while you hone your game.

I don't know how else to end this, except to say that I'm excited to experiment in this space. Maybe you are too?

[angstywaifu]

Black Dahlia - 11. Glimpse of the Past

Time for Dahlia and her squad to make the dreaded walk to meet the dragons waiting to bond them. Anything could happen.

Set Pre Fourth Wing/Books

Garrick Tavis x OC (Dahlia Aetos)

Black Dahlia Masterlist | Masterlist

We’d done it. Every single one of us had made it up the Gauntlet. One of the few squads in our year to do so. And most importantly I had beaten Dain. Something I knew he was not pleased about when he had asked my time when he had reached the top. Sadly I had not gotten the fastest time, but I’d beaten him and that was all that mattered to me.

”This scares me more than climbing that Gauntlet.” Liz says ahead of me as she eyes the dragons ahead lining the edge of clearing were moments away from walking.

”If it makes you feel any better you’re not the only one.” I say back as I eye them as well.

So far I can only see some Red’s and Green’s. Not a single Blue in sight just yet. Which honestly didn’t surprise me. But I was secretly hoping I would see at least one. Just one Blue dragon. Just one to give me hope of finding one in four days time.

Austin turns and stares at me confused. She had clearly fallen into the category of assuming I would be fine walking into a canyon full of Dragons. “Why are you scared? Didn’t you grow up around Dragons?”

I tear my eyes from the Dragons lining the walls and meet her eyes. “Only a fool wouldn’t be terrified of walking in there. If there’s one thing I’ve learnt about growing up around Dragon’s is always keep your guard up and be prepared for anything.”

She clearly senses a double meaning to my words, maybe even hearing the slight hint of pain in my voice as she purses her lips and nods. I can tell she wants to know more, but she’s smart enough to note this is not the place for it.

”Alright Third Squad, into formation,” Our section leader Kai calls out as he waves us forward.

We all step forward, forming a single line just like the squads before us had. Clearly it was a formation that gave us the best chance of survival. Our group ends up at the back of the line, with Bodhi bringing up the rear.

”I’m sure Xaden has gone over this. But it is a straight walk down the meadow, where you will keep at least seven feet apart should a dragon decide one of you are not worthy.” He adds as he walks down our line.

In front of me I watch Liz’s back go rigid at his words. Yes Xaden had told us, but he’d definitely had more tact behind his words than Kai did.

”You’ll be fine,” I whisper in her ear, watching as her shoulders relax again at my words.

I was not letting him get to us. We we’re going to get through this.

”Once you get to the end, wait for the rest of your squad before turning and walking back down in a single line again. If I see one of you approach a dragon… Well lets just say I won’t be seeing you again. Any questions?”

Kai scans the line, waiting to see if any of us have a question. When he’s satisfied none of us are going to ask anything he waves us forward to the next rider, as we round the corner the familiar face of Damon comes into view.

”I’m sure Kai gave you a rundown of what to do. Just do exactly what he says and you’ll be fine.” He tells us as the group before us returns from their walk. I can’t help but notice they are down a few members of their squad, their faces grim as they pass us.

”Oh and make sure you talk to each other. It helps the dragons get a feel for what you’re like, and it helps take away the nerves.” He says as he holds out his arm for us to walk forward.

As we walk up the dirt path, I scan the dragons around us, careful to not make any eye contact with them. A lot of the dragon colours didn’t like it, and I wasn’t becoming victim to their fire because I’d stupidly looked them in the eye. If it wasn’t for the fact I knew they were real, I’d almost think they were statues. As we step into the clearing I’m immediately hit with the smell of sulphur, and as I cast my gaze to my right there is a very fresh pile of ash that’s the cause of the strong odour. Most likely one of the cadets from the group before us.

”I know they said there were fewer dragons this year, but theres still so many.” Liz says in awe as her eyes scan the canyon.

”Wait till we bond a dragon and you see the entire quadrant in formation.” I tell her, her head whipping around to meet mine with an excited look on her face.

Two months ago if I’d said that she would have been terrified, now she wanted to jump head on into anything, Austin included. Seems I was rubbing off on them.

”They’re all just watching us. Can’t they fucking do something?” A cadet called Eddie yelled from the front of the group.

He was one of the more rebelious ones in our squad. Always pushing the limit. And he was clearly here for the glory of being called a Dragon Rider. I never wished death upon anyone, but part of me wanted him to get what was coming to him. He had no respect for the role or for the dragons we we’re going to hopefully bond in the coming days.

”Be careful what you say. No dragon is going to want to bond someone with an attitude like that?” Bodhi calls out from behind me, a few muffled laughs coming from the line.

Eddie stops, whirling around to make eye contact with Bodhi. “And no ones going to bond a marked one like you. So shut your mouth.”

Bodhi opens his mouth to respond, but I’m quicker to bite back as I cut him off. “At the rate you’re going you aren’t making it out of this clearing alive. So change your attitude or keep your mouth shut.”

Eddie turns his attention to me, his eyes hardening as they meet mine. I was the only one in our squad he hadn’t made a comment about to tried to come at. And it was clear why. I’d seen him sucking up to Dain a few times. In his eyes, if he was in our good books, it would bode well for him in terms of moving up the ranks. Sadly being in my good books wasn’t going to do him any good. I watch as he lets out a huff of air before turning and continuing his walk up the clearing.

”Part of me hopes you’re right.” Bodhi mutters behind me as the line starts to move again.

We pass group after group, each of them eyeing us off, getting a sense for who we are. As we pass a group of Green’s, I catch one of them immediately pivoting their attention to Bodhi. I hear him gasp, his shadow moving quickly as he averts his gaze from its eyes. The dragon’s head pivots to follow him as we pass.

”Looks like you might get your Green after all.” I call back to him, secretly hoping the interest it had shown was good.

”I hope so. They did seem interested in me.” He says in agreeance.

”It did!” Liz says excitedely.

”Yeah, it barely looked at any of us once it saw you.” Austin adds.

I knew if I turned my head I would see a shit eating grin on his face, and the thought brought my own smile to my face.

We make it to the end, turning to face the clearing we’d just walked up. All the dragons eyeing us again. It reminded me of a creepy book I’d read once where the eyes and heads of statues would follow you when you weren’t looking. I’d barely turned thirteen at the time and had kept a keen eye on any statues I was around for a few weeks after.

”I vote you go first Aetos, seeing as you seem to know how to act around dragon’s and know what they want. Why don’t you show us how its done?” Eddie challenges as steps forward from the group.

Everyone’s eyes jump between us, eager to see if I would rise to Eddie’s challenge. But something told me he was up to something. There was a glint in his eyes. And the last time I’d been challenged to do something around a dragon it had not gone well.

I roll my eyes at him but step forward. “Fine, I’ll lead if you’re too scared to do it now.”

I barely catch the grimace on his face before I turn and start walking back down the path. A few seconds later I feel him take his place behind me. And somehow I know he’s not keeping the allotted seven feet advised by the senior riders. He was definitely up to something, and with the situation we we’re in my heart rate was picking up. My palms becoming sweaty as I scan the path ahead. No this was not going to be a repeat of that day. I was going to walk out of here fine.

”Hey, keep your distance Eddie.” Bodhi calls out from the back of the group as we pass the halfway mark.

”Just staying close so I can learn from the expert in our squad. I mean her dad is a dragon rider after all, she grew up around them. And from the comment she made before she clearly knows how to act around them. I need to learn from the best.” He mocks from behind me causing my back to go rigid as his breath fans across my neck. He was way too close.

”Back up Eddie.” I warn.

”Or what? You going to fight me in front of a dragon? You going to break that precious codex we all follow and piss of your dad? I don’t think so.” His voiced laced with anger. I’d clearly pissed him off earlier.

I continue my walk down the middle, increasing my pace to try get some distance from him. I barely get a few steps between us before his hand grasps my upper arm as he spins me around to face him. I’m quick to react, my hands rising up to meet his chest as I go to push myself away. As my hands meet the centre of his chest and push myself away, the ground shakes beneath me, the rest of our squad gasping in shock before walking away from Eddie.

I watch as his eyes turn cold with fear. His face draining of any colour as he looks above me. I catch a glimpse of orange igniting in his eyes before the heat rushes over my head. A heat I am all to familiar with. A heat that haunts me years later in my sleep. A heat that consumes Eddie in a ball of fire, leaving nothing but a pile of ash and the smell of sulphur lingering in the air. I look up and meet the terrified eyes of my squad who are all looking up at something behind me.

All I can hear is my heart thundering loudly in my chest as I turn on my heel to see what stand’s behind me. I keep my head down, not daring to meet the eye of what’s behind me. As I turn the first thing I see are the massive talons that could easily be the size of me. As my eyes move up, my breath catches in my throat.

Sapphire. Sapphire scales.

I can’t stop myself as my head whips up to take in what’s behind me. This was easily the biggest dragon in the clearing, and probably one of the biggest I had ever seen. And easily one of the more ruthless dragons I had seen. His horns far larger and bigger than the others, his head decorated with vicious looking spikes. And a pair of orange eyes that almost looked like they were glowing and we’re looking right at me. A pair of orange eyes I had seen before.

I couldn’t help but be drawn to a blue one down the back. Blue dragons had always been my favourite.

The dragon nods, freaking nods at me before bending its legs and launching into the air. An eerie silence falls over the clearing in the wake of the Blue Dragon leaving, all of us staring where it once stood.

“Did she make eye contact with it?”

”If she did she’d be dead.”

”She definitely did.”

”And did it nod at her?”

The whispers of my squad meet my ears as I come back to reality after what’s just happened. I had looked that dragon in the eye and it had indeed nodded at me. Despite still being a decent way into the clearing, surrounded by dragons, I do the thing I really shouldn’t do. I run. My feet pushing me to get out of that clearing as fast as I can as Bodhi calls my name behind me.

@imtoanonymousforyou @simplyme-fornow @omalmal @lalaluch @wolfbc97 @leptitlu @fullmoon-94

[desultory-novice]

"Whoever said 'the road to hell is paved with good intentions' left a lot of stuff out..."

[Name:] Noir Fontaine "...It's pronounced 'fawn-tan'"

[Reference Image:]

[[Tournament Asks Masterpost]]

[Notes on Personality:]

"My pronouns are he/some-kind -of-planet-invading hellspawn, I guess."

A kindhearted teen beneath the surface, growing up amidst humanity's depressive twilight hours on a hostile, frozen wasteland, plus a lifetime of tragedies no one his age should have to bear, has hardened Noir into a sarcastic, sassy little edgelord with a bitter tongue that's as sharp as his cursed sword, both of which he'll turn on anything he finds threatening with little provocation.

Noir's oodles and caboodles of twitchy paranoia combined with him having the approachability of a flea-ridden alley cat, makes breaking the thick ice to touch the heart of the scarred boy hiding beneath a task for only the most patient (or masochistic) of souls.

...And even then, he'll still sass you.

Likes: storytelling, games, the night sky, his siblings Dislikes: violence, crowds, touch, food, opening up

[Backstory and Lore:]

"...My life had way more talking plushies playing key roles than I'd have guessed."

Son of <L.D. Violet Level Access Only> and <L.D. Violet Level Access Only> Noir is a normal (?) human (?) teen from Shiver Star and Adeleine's older brother.

After the early death of his parents under very suspicious circumstances, Noir took over as sole guardian of his little sister, giving up the little-to-nothing he had to keep her safe and happy, including his own happiness, his health, and very nearly his sanity.

His preternaturally bad luck took a turn for the absolutely devastating when–while searching for a cheer-up gift for his little sister amongst some suspicious New World relics–he just so happened to acquire a psychic blade forged of Dark Matter.

As if it knew exactly who he was and exactly who he could go on to be, the Blade attached itself to him in a rather physical (:cough: and un-removable :cough:) manner and began slowly but surely corrupting him, body, mind, and soul.

Yet, he was able to use its destructive gifts to quietly rescue his sister Adeleine from Shiver Star's apocalyptic, dead-end environs and send her off into the endless possibilities waiting in the sea of stars, guaranteeing she, at least, would have a future.

The corruption devours him soon after.

In a 'verse close to that of the canon games, Noir loses his human body upon death along with (most) of his memories, and his captive soul is reforged by Zero as the eldritch entity's elite vanguard, a position which caused King Dedede to dub him "Blade."

In this form, the emotionless(?) Dark Matter drone would go on to adopt Gooey (in place of the sister he could not fully remember) and lead the invasion of Popstar for the collective, unaware it was the very planet Adeleine escaped to. She would not discover the one-eyed shadow monster was her brother till much, much later...

Noir dies a second time, in a duel against Popstar's hero, Kirby of the Stars, having remembered his human life too late to do anything about it. Noir would die for a third time after a disappointed Zero resurrects, tortures, and brainwashes him in order to force his participation in the second, penultimate invasion of Popstar.

Tragically, even after banishing Dark Matter from Popstar and destroying Zero, Noir's soul remains trapped in darkness.

...He would've liked to see his little sister and brother again...

In another 'verse, he and Adeleine swap fates and... :cough:

Favorite Dream Landers: Adeleine, Gooey, King Dedede, Kirby

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[Notes on Potential (???) Interactions:]

If your OC has ANY ability to sense Dark Matter, is or ever was Dark Matter, or has a grudge against Dark Matter, Noir should set them off like a particularly obnoxious car alarm. He radiates Dark Matter energy, even when he's not doing anything.

If your OC is small, cute, and harmless (ie: reminds him of Adeleine or Gooey in any way) you may earn some begrudging care from the boy. He's got a terminal case of big-brother syndrome, after all.

If your OC has been through the horrors (and specifically NOT come out a better, healthier person for it) he will probably sympathize.

Address him as "Swordsman" and watch him twitch! It's fun!

[Etc:]

For this event, Noir is visually in his "last days as a living human" form, ie: purple-black patches of corrupted flesh and veins and monster hands beneath his gloves.

He's below average height and weight for his age, but being an Earth-human like Adeleine (and taller than her) generally winds up taller than most average Dream Land-type residents

As far as physical appearance goes, Noir is still 16 (the age he died at) but he spent a sizable period of time as Dark Matter and his true mental/emotional age is difficult to calculate.

Outside of the powers he picked up from the sword (teleportation, darkness control, memory-based matter re-creation, etc) Noir, owing to his heritage, has some mild powers all of his own (pre-cognition, cross-dimensional sight, etc) though he is untrained in the use of them and remains unaware they are "powers" at all.

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PS: You can read more about Noir [HERE]

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Well, I have done it. I have thrown my son to the Shark-Dees! XD Shall we see how The Boy Who Always Dies does at the @kirbyoctournament ?

[flowerandblood]

I don't like many of the authors' decisions here – sometimes their tropes, sometimes their choice of how they present events, dialogues, sometimes their characters, relationships between them or their appearance. It's not a bad thing. I have a right to feel this way.

But I would never tell them about it. Not because I don't have the courage to do it but because it would give them nothing, nothing good. You criticise when someone asks for it – when someone doesn't, then you should keep quiet.

Why? Because perhaps someone does not want this criticism and it's their right too. I, for example, don't care and I don't want to know how much someone dislikes something in my work. I don't need the fake appreciation of others, just as others don't need mine.

If I don't like someone's stories, I just leave them alone. God bless all of them! Write and be happy.

No one here is an oracle or judge, and some people feel that way. If you don't like what the authors are writing and their choices, give them a holy peace or else all you'll achieve is that they'll be discouraged from writing – they'll think: maybe nobody wants to read this after all, look at my characters, maybe it's pointless, maybe everyone thinks about me and my writing this way.

Sowing doubt and passive humiliation is very popular here for some reason and I find it incredibly annoying. People don't know when to shut their mouths and when their private opinion to which they are, after all, entitled hurts others, making them uncomfortable.

Our right to free speech should not cut someone's wings and mock them. This is an expression of disrespect and basic culture.

Not everyone has to want to change, to develop if it is not their profession but a simple hobby.

Anonymity does not make malicious gibberish sound any smarter, and a large audience or reactions under posts does not make anyone entitled to post an opinion in which they criticise works of others for their choices.

"Why do you write with only small letters? It's so annoying. This character would never do this, are you dumb? Aemond would never betray his family! Oh nooo, next Visenya on a big dragon? Why these OC's are so boring? Reader insert is just for you because you are desperate to fuck. Why do your OC is fat? Why do your OC is slim? Why do make your OC look like this, why won't you try something new? Why do you put Alys in your story as a third wheel when she is Aemond's real love interest?"

Shut. The fuck. UUUUUUP. GOD.

You say – you don't agree, don't read, I have a right to my opinion. Well, I say: your right does not absolve you from thinking about the feelings of others.

You are hypocrites. You cry and make a hiatus when someone sends you a nasty anon writing that you write crap, but you devote 2,000 words on your blog to why a certain trope doesn't make sense, why other authors don't have a right to make their OC's look the way they want.

What you write is not private, it's public. Who are you writing it to? Is it an expression of your frustration? Those you write it about can read it. They may feel very, very bad about it, they can think to stop writing at all or make themselves to do something against their will. But that's not your concern anymore, right?

Taking responsibility for your own words only when it's convenient for you is an expression of immaturity and that's what I see in this fandom – most people here are afraid of adulthood and the clash with it. Because in adulthood everything we do has consequences to face.

But it's easier to say that we simply have the right to express our opinion, no matter how hurtful and unfounded it may be.

I want to be clear – I will see anyone reblogging or write this kind of posts – I will block them. Even if I like you, if you are with me for a long time. I don't want to see this kind of toxic behavior on my wall ever again. Enough is enough.

[cuckoo-on-a-string]

Hello, Mr. Monster (Seven. Sacred)

Summary: Eros and Psyche inspired Soulmate!AU, Morpheus x female OC/reader

Master list

Chapter warnings: emotional distress, anxiety, recall of threat of assault/brainwashing, explicit smut A/N: My treat! Happy Halloween! Only about half this beast is edited, but I gave myself permission to break the no-fic-til-first-draft-is-finished rule if I could complete it by Halloween, soooo... ENJOY! Happy to talk inspo music/plot/scream in harmony in comments and asks.

Chapter 6: Sacred

She wasn’t wearing shoes.

She didn’t entirely realize until she left the palace. The grand castle released her easily, giving her a side door to slip through as she tried escaping herself, and she hesitated when soft dirt replaced smooth stone. The fae’s work stripped a lifetime of callouses. A week ago, she could walk across gravel barefoot. Now… She could go back, admit defeat and finish dressing properly. But she couldn’t deal with any more of Gwen’s concern, and the urge to run boiled from her stomach up the back of her throat. Maybe it would burst out as a scream. Maybe she’d just vomit on her own toes.

No going back.

Something would catch her if she turned around, and she wouldn’t stop until the sensation drained away in sweat, blood, and tears. 

Maybe she’d trip and earn herself some new scars.

She didn’t actually run, but she walked quickly, like she had any idea where she was going and had a schedule to keep.

The sunshine welcomed her, wrapping warm as her shawl around her shoulders, but she kept her eyes on the path, looking for loose stones to dodge or signs of other travelers. But she found no footprints. Heard no breaking twigs ahead or behind. No voices carried on the faint breeze. The world felt a little too perfect, as if it froze when she left her room, holding its breath as it waited for her to pass by. Too still. Like it might startle her if the clouds skidded along like normal clouds usually did. The blue overhead felt careful. Intentional.

The path led her to the edge of a river – or a lake – maybe a vast moat around the palace. She couldn’t see a way across, and she hesitated on the bank, toes curling into the grass as fingernails folded into palms. She wasn’t ready to stop. She needed to keep going. This wasn’t where she sat and cried. She had to burn out the panic, and she desperately needed a way across the water so she could escape into the green hills beyond.

Chewing on her lip, tasting blood, she squinted at the flecks of sunlight glinting on the water’s surface and tried to guess how deep it was. Impossible to guess. But it looked placid enough. Her was still wet, after all. A little more water wouldn’t hurt her.

She stepped from the bank, expecting a cold plunge, but she found sand barely an inch below the surface. Looking again, she could just make out a submerged path ready to help her ford the river, and she tried very hard not to question if it was there before she stepped on it. More than a little afraid it would disappear halfway through, she sprinted across the open water, splashing her clean clothes and making a terrible racket in the pristine stillness. Although the water wasn’t perfectly still, her steps left great ripples that carried the secret of her flight to both shores and beyond. Round whispers revealing her route, rolling off like a bell’s peel to tell the invisible something where she’d fled.

Her beautiful skin crawled, and she didn’t stop until she’d hidden herself in the green shadows beyond the far bank. Pine needles cushioned her steps, and she slowed to catch her breath, still moving forward, but only barely as the wood’s sap and moss filled her senses.

Her heart beat so fast it hummed, and the old ache stirred sharp and deep behind her ribs.

She was missing something. She needed something. She’d been hurt in ways her simple human magic couldn’t mend, but if she pulled the shawl even tighter, everything would be fine. The soft knit would hold her together like a bandage. Or a net. That shouldn’t comfort her, but it did, and she had too many battles to choose this one.

Being caught was alright so long as she was the one to trap herself.

She kept going, and her heart stewed in memories she’d hoped to leave on the floor of the bath. Things grew out of her helpless fears. Weedy jolts of terror that came back no matter how much she reasoned them away. Doubt spread like mold over every good thing. Confusion soared tall as a tree, and even the Dreaming’s determined sunlight couldn’t pierce its canopy.

She didn’t understand why Morpheus lied. And because she didn’t know that, the question her safety and future hinged on, she couldn’t banish every creeping dread that fed on its shadow. Everything she thought she knew felt fragile, and she wasn’t willing to test her assumptions’ strength. She’d thought he respected her. She’d thought her dreams could be a haven with him. She’d thought her life had changed for the better. For once.

But the fae took her for him.

Whatever she thought she knew, they clearly knew something else.

She walked on. Searching her thoughts. Wandering a strange land. Not at all ready to ask for answers.

The woods thinned into scrubby trees and thickets, fading from emerald to a yellowed olive green. Low stone walls rose and fell along the sides of the path she chose at random, bordering little fields full of pumpkins and graveyards bristling with angled headstones. Signs of structure beyond wilderness, a long-inhabited corner of a rural land, far removed from the gleaming palace with its lavender bath and magical bed.

But it was still so quiet.

Where were all the people? Dreams, nightmares, stories. The Dreaming may be vast, but it had nearly countless residents. Fin and Gwen spoke of whole villages, towns, homes full of strange, beautiful, and awful creatures crafted or invited into the Dreaming by its king. The silence rang false, and her heart snagged on a terrible idea.

The air in her lungs hardened.

She’d never left the unseelies’ court. She only walked through a vision boiled from poppy juice and desperate hopes. Maybe she still wore her wedding dress. Or maybe this was the truth of Love in Idleness. She could love her monster because she imagined he was better than he was. Her mind had broken and she found herself roving freely, left to convalesce on her own terms while in reality…

She’d come to a stone bridge fording a creek, and she practically fell back against the wall, sliding down, dropping her head to her knees.

Fucking fuck.

She’d walked so far, but the fear still had a literal chokehold.

Breathing. That mattered most. Whatever else was wrong couldn’t be fixed until she could breathe. She couldn’t even keep walking without air. Old lessons battled with her diaphragm as she tried to scold herself calm. Her old breathing exercises helped take the edge off the crushing sense of suffocation, but her nervous system hummed with tension, and she sat locked in place. 

She couldn’t stop thinking about the dress, feeling phantom spider silk clinging to her skin, watching the threads stretch and tear with so little effort. Of all the things to focus on, maybe it was easiest. The only change she could easily escape. But also a reminder of the monster the fae believed her soulmate to be. Someone who would callously, willingly…

Her stomach rolled, and she lurched onto her knees. A little stomach bile came on the second, wrenching heave, but nothing followed. Not even water.

Fuck.

How long had it been since she ate? Time was so slippery in the fae realms, and gods knew how long she slept in the Dreaming. Her head pulsed as her stomach finally agreed it was overreacting, and she fell back to sit against the wall of the bridge, panting with her eyes closed against every little pain and discomfort knocking on her thoughts. They each wanted to let her know her body had been abused, and all their good intentions just made the message play on repeat, forcing her to not only face but feel everything that happened.

Sorely used.

An archaic turn of phrase, for sure, but fuck if it didn’t fit.

Her ears rang. A sure sign there was just too much happening inside. Even if she didn’t die at the hands of the fae, a rogue nightmare, or some demon Constantine hooked her into finding, her blood pressure would send her to an early grave. For sure.

Her head hurt. Her belly hurt. Her heart hurt. Now that she wasn’t walking, her feet ached, too.

It seemed like a good time to cry, but she hurt too much to do that, either.

So she sat with the pain instead.

Crossing her arms over her knees, she buried her face and tried to block out this world, her monster’s world, and create her own. Simple and dark and safe. The borders only extended to her fingers and toes. It ended where the air touched her skin. Her goal was to drown out the ringing in her ears with the cycle of her breath, and if she forgot anything else existed, maybe that would be possible.

She buried herself so well in her arms and the chorus of her panic that she didn’t notice the little creature approach until it touched her. Tiny claws pricked her ankle. It felt like a cat, a determined kitten scaling her leg to perch on her knee, and she opened her eyes sluggishly, pulling out of the sticky morass of her own head to find a ruby-eyed gargoyle peering into her face. It chirred, potato-shaped head tilting in wordless question.

Golden with little wings that looked entirely insufficient to keep its pudgy baby body airborne, it lurked happily in the grey area where things so ugly they could only be cute flourished.

“I should probably warn you,” she murmured, “that I’m really shit company right now.”

The little creature warbled, like it understood and disagreed. Its claws pinched the fabric over her knee as its wings pumped, lifting him an inch into the air.

Well.

That would show her for making snap judgements.

The little darling really could fly.

It tugged, trilling louder, and she got the idea it wanted her to come along.

“I don’t have wings.” She felt like she ought to apologize, explain her shortcomings the way she’d reason with a small child. “And I don’t feel so good right now. I’ll stay here. You don’t have to.”

Dissatisfied with her decision, her little companion dropped back to her knee, croaking a long, demanding wail.

“Goldie!”

The voice carried through the fog, rattling over the stones, and her little friend perked and turned to call back. Following the direction of his attention, she realized two whole Tudor mansions stood on the opposite side of the bridge. If she’d stumbled any further, she would’ve run into someone’s front door.

She desperately needed to get out of her own head before she walked face-first into an immoveable object and broke her nose.

“Goldie?”

The creature flexed its claws, essentially making biscuits on her knee.

“I think someone’s calling you,” she suggested. The name and color couldn’t be a coincidence. Not in the Dreaming. Everything made a slanted kind of sense here, if it made any sense at all.

The tiny monster, Goldie apparently, settled belly-down, folding its wings and all in a show of blatant refusal. It wouldn’t give up the new friend. Toy. Guest. Whatever the hell she was to it.

“Goldie.” The voice was nearer. Footsteps crunched on loose stones, and a pleasantly round man, with a pleasantly full beard and a pleasantly wide-eyed face, came along from the direction of the two houses, looking the wrong way. “You’re still awfully small to be wandering off, even if you can fly so well. Now, where did you – ” He turned, saw Goldie sitting on Aisling’s knee, and blinked his wide eyes even wider. She stared back.

He remembered his manners first, rushing to welcome her. “Oh! Hello. I didn’t know we had company.”

He approached with a smile, but he hesitated when he realized her position. She must look at least half as horrible as she felt, after all, and she hadn’t moved from her folded spot against the wall.

“Are you alright?” He grasped for solutions, for answers. “Did Goldie scare you?”

Exhausted as she was by her own terrors, she couldn’t help snorting.

“No.” Hell. Her voice practically creaked. She swallowed, trying to get her dry, aching throat in working order, but she only made the ache worse. Coughing, she spluttered, “He didn’t scare me.”

“But you’re not alright.” Those big eyes flooded with growing concern, and she wondered if it was because he genuinely gave a damn or because of some nebulous rule about guests and hospitality and all that shit.

“I’m not,” she confessed. “But I will be. Eventually. I always am.”

“Well, how about some tea while you wait?” He extended a hand, and Goldie fluttered up to his shoulder, clearing the way for her to rise. Now that the cretin had backup, it seemed confident she’d follow.

And since she had no other plan, she did.

“I’m Abel.” His warm, worker’s callouses rasped along her palm and around her fingers as he helped her to her feet. “It’s been a while since we had a proper dreamer here, I’m afraid. Are you lost?”

Very.

“I don’t know. And I’m a dreamer, but I’m not dreaming.”

He didn’t keep hold of her hand as he led her towards one of the two houses – presumably his – but he hovered. He had a good face for that, and he kept near, like he thought she might fall, which was fair considering how he found her.

“Then how are you here?”

A mirror. Knives, and spiders, and that damned dress.

“It’s a long story.”

“Maybe over tea, then.”

“Maybe.” Probably not, though. She couldn’t stomach that tale in her head yet. She couldn’t hold it in her mouth long enough to taste.

The courtyard between the two houses boasted a half-forgotten kind of charm. It grew in moss over crumbling busts and fogged over the windows with just a little too much dust. Cozy neglect. Cottagecore with fewer fairylights and more fog.

Abel held the door for her, and she found a sitting room as wonderfully cluttered as the landscape outside. Books stacked in towers supported forgotten cups, and old table cloths, rugs, and scarves littered every surface. She sat at the little table where her host gestured and admired the collection of his personal history as he busied himself with the stove.

“I should really tell my brother we have a guest,” he fussed. “He’ll be terribly angry if doesn’t have a chance to meet you, I’m sure, Miss…” His hand flew to his mouth, and he murmured his apology through the gaps between his fingers. “’M so sorry. I never asked your name.”

“It’s fine. I don’t mind. I’m – ”

“Let me get Cain. One introduction! Much easier. I’ll be right back.” He rushed out again, and Goldie fluttered to sit on the table, resting between her limp hands and blinking up like he wasn’t responsible for anything ever, at all, in the very least.

She ran a finger over his bumpy little head and sighed. “Aren’t you just proud of yourself?”

Goldie crooned confirmation, and she rubbed her nail along the loose threads in the tablecloth. A hundred tea stains bloomed over and across each other, but she didn’t see any crumbs from dinners past. The candle in the brass stick at the center of the table had dripped down to anchor the whole contraption in place, and she could only just see a faded red paisley pattern beneath it all.

If she were to read Abel’s cards, this would be the place. It had his rhythm: habit and footsteps and care. A place to plan the morning and end an evening. 

The door’s ominously friendly groan announced the brothers’ return, and she looked over her shoulder to meet much less open eyes in a much less open face, shielded by spectacles and a mouth prepared to sneer.

But he blinked like his brother as Abel rushed to attend the kettle again, and he marched in with open curiosity.

“Well, you are a puzzle.” He made a little bow. “I’m Cain. You’ve met the dunderhead and Goldie.”

Abel set a steaming pot and three cups around the table, practically shaking with excitement. They really must not get company often. “And now she’s going to introduce herself, and we’ll all have tea while she waits to feel alright.”

Cain’s eye’s narrowed, and Aisling jolted to defuse the poisonous tension.

“I’m Aisling Hunt.”

Abel clapped, and the tension fizzled away as she tried to catch up with whatever connection he’d made. “Fine Gent’s Aisling? The witch from the Waking?”

“You know Fin?” She accepted her cup of tea, hoping for more about her friend. How did they know each other? Did they know where her friend was lurking? Were they at all like him?

Cain nodded, ignoring the cup and saucer his brother set at his elbow. “Better sort of nightmare. Reliable. Sharp. And if you’re really that Aisling, then I suppose we know why you’re in the Dreaming.”

She shuddered, an involuntary reaction she only just saved her tea from disaster by plonking it back on the table. Gossip traveled quickly in all realms, apparently, and while Fin was a considerate asshole most days, the fae hadn’t been subtle in their… gifting. She could ask how much her hosts knew, but then she’d have to listen to it. And she didn’t want to. Cain’s eye pierced her with a knowing glance, but Abel stood there in wide-eyed befuddlement, so she left them to their own assumptions and tried again with her drink.

Under any other situation, the tea would be very nice. Well-steeped, but not bitter, with a nutty note that made her think of toasted barely milk tea. In the moment, it was better than anything she’d ever tasted. Her senses sprang back from the fog of despair and remembered how nice it was to quench her thirst, how the steam opened up her sinuses, and she could smell the dried rosemary over Abel’s kitchen window. One sip was not enough. Tipping her head back, she drained it in one go and immediately decided manners were for losers, desperately holding out her cup for a refill.

Holy hell was she thirsty.

Abel quickly poured more, and Cain’s side-eye grew razor sharp.

Aisling drank another cup. And then a third. But when she lifted a fourth to her lips, a familiar hand settled on her wrist.

“That’s a great way to make yourself sick again.”

Fin.

He hovered at her shoulder, calm and constant as anything, charming as ever. Just looking up at his smirk – always welcoming her into a joke whether she understood it or not – felt like setting foot on solid land after a long boat ride. It surprised her by how steady it was, and she remembered what confidence had always felt like when they went on their adventures, dragged along by his leads and her intuition.

She hadn’t even heard him come in.

Under his guidance, she settled the cup in its saucer, and she winced an apologetic smile for her hosts.

“Sorry.”

Cain scoffed. “For what? Drinking tea? Pah.” He eyed Fin with a considerably less charitable look, hoisting the teapot in a clear invitation for yet another refill when required. “You’re a guest, and a thirsty one.”

“I’m not surprised.” Fin pulled out a chair for himself, settling a wicker hamper on the table. “You sprinted from the castle like a bat out of hell, and you slept for ages before that.”

Abel gawked like her wandering was some great accomplishment. “You’ve wandered a long way from the Heart of the Dreaming. This is the border of Nightmare.”

Although she determinedly didn’t sip the tea, she kept her heads around the cup, letting the fading heat sink into her palms and remind her she was alive. And awake.

Nightmare. That made sense. She’d never entirely trusted dreams. They felt so sweet in her sleep, but they always stung when she woke up. She found nightmares more reliable. But distance was nothing in the Dreaming. Even she knew that. If the realm’s lord and master hadn’t chosen to let her have her head and run, she wouldn’t have reached the river.

Busying himself with the basket, Fin muttered, “This one never did like to keep to one place. Here.”

He pulled out a lump of cheese and a crusty roll, setting them on a plate he magically fished from the delicate chaos of Abel’s living space.

She looked at the food distrustfully, not sure if her belly rumbled in welcome or rebellion yet. But Fin was on a mission, and he fished out a dish of strawberries next, bright as gems and so ripe she could smell them. Plucking one from the top of the pile, he sliced it into three neat pieces, offering her one on the flat of his blade with an expectant expression. He’d done the work. She shouldn’t waste it.

“The tea will settle better with a bit of food,” he advised.

Cain and Abel kept their own counsel, either riddling out what they were seeing or collecting fresh fuel for the gossip engine, she couldn’t say.

She accepted the strawberry.

It tasted like summer. Ice cream in the shade, and the riot of growing things in their prime. Sunshine and sticky hands with her bare feet in a creek.

Food really wasn’t supposed to taste like that. It took her breath away, and she hesitated, balanced on the edge of Fin’s knife between enjoying the little gift and careening back into her overwhelmed panic. Everything was a step further than she expected, or a little too perfect, or grand in ways that made her feel so, so small…

Goldie, sitting by her elbow, trilled. She looked into his ruddy eyes and held out her hand in a silent demand for another bit of strawberry, even though she hadn’t finished chewing.

Fin tipped the next slice into her waiting palm, and she offered it to the baby… whatever. Goldie seized it with a delighted gurgle and crammed it in its mouth. The sliver of berry filled much more of his mouth than Aisling’s, and his cheeks ballooned with the treat.

“What do you say, Goldie?” Abel asked.

His – pet? Child? – offered a gulp, a belch, and a croak, which was enough to satisfy Abel.

Fin shoved the third slice of berry directly in her face.

And she nearly choked. Nearly laughed. It startled her, but she put her hand to her mouth and kept everything in – chewing and swallowing emotion and food. They saying went that laughter was the best medicine, and while she was a firm proponent of the wonders of antibiotics, her inner sky cleared just the tiniest bit. The cracks were still there. Her world was still more than a little broken. But the fog of war began to lift, and she could see some of what was left. What was alright. What might be alright with a little more time.

Moss would grow on the ruins, and rain would fill the holes into ponds for frogs and water lilies.

What couldn’t be repaired could be made new.

And if she ever cleared all the clouds from that inner sky, maybe she’d find another watercolor sunset waiting for her.

Fin, watching her very carefully, cut another strawberry, and she ate it all with more confidence than the first two mouthfuls. He sliced open a roll and spread soft cheese on the two halves, giving them to her one at a time. When she reached for her tea to wash the bread down, he didn’t protest.

His posture softened until he slouched in his seat, shoulders back against the wood and one ankle propped across his knee. The little wrinkles that forecast a frown smoothed back to the edge of a smirk. All his anxiety appeared in the hollow shapes left behind as it melted.

She was sorry to have worried him, but watching him relaxed helped her more than all the tea and food in the Dreaming could. He’d decided she was safe, and in this wonky wonderland, she trusted his judgement. Fin may not betray his maker for her, but he would never be ease if he wasn’t sure all was – or would be – well.

Rapid tapping interrupted the scene a few minutes after she refused more food from Fin. Sated, pleasantly full, and breathing easily, she didn’t jump at the sound, but her heart jumped when she saw the raven on the other side of Abel’s window. She’d bet anything it was…

“Matthew.” Fin nodded to the bird but didn’t move to let him in. Instead, he turned to Aisling and asked, “Feel up for a walk?”

“Back? That’s…” The best idea. The worst idea. She thought of the castle and the entity who ruled it. He needed to be stitched back into her story. She had too many frayed ends left in the wake of the latest tear, and she couldn’t begin any real work until she saw the pattern. All her questions and accusations coiled into a lump in her throat. “A long way.”

“Oh, I doubt it.” Since his question hadn’t really been one at all, he stood up, put the basket on his arm, and pulled out her chair.

It was time to go.

Cain and Abel stood, too, and Goldie bobbed up to Abel’s shoulder, sighing like a tired toddler.

“Thank you.” She hesitated in the doorway and wondered what the rules were in the Dreaming. Did she owe them something? Did they expect a token, or a boon, or some specific words? Should she start planning a thank you card? Was there a ritual, or – no. She was overthinking it. “It was… You helped. A lot. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome!” Abel beamed. Goldie warbled in agreement.

“Of course, she’s welcome,” Cain snapped, finding some unknowable annoyance in his brother’s manners. He looked back to his departing guests and nodded, slowly, almost like he was bowing. “Fine Gent. Lady.”

“Oh, I’m not-”

Fin looped his free arm through hers and tugged her off balance, moving through the door. Her confusion of thought was lost in the chaos of stumbling sideways to keep up.

“Thank you, Cain,” Fin said.

The door closed. The sounds, smells, and sensations of the outdoors crashed over her fragile senses like a wave, and she was very glad for Fin’s arm. She was… better. But still not well. The ground stayed firm under her feet, but the back of her mind whispered it would melt into quicksand at any second.

Fluttering wings and a familiar croak warned her just before Matthew came flapping in her face. “You’re awake! You’re alive! Thought you were gone forever when you didn’t come back to your van, and the boss-”

“Will explain his thoughts himself,” Fin interjected. He gave the bird a look, a suggestion or a reminder. Once upon a time he threw those her way in the Waking. When she was young and overeager to test her limits. When she ought to know better.

Matthew landed in a chaos of black feathers and clattering talons, hopping alongside as Fin led the way across the bridge. Back to forests, fields, and strange moats. Back to the Heart of the Dreaming. Whatever that meant for her. There was no rush, but Fin clearly had a direction in mind, and while he was willing to go slow, ambling rather than marching, he was on a mission.

She didn’t like the heavy feeling that realization left in her gut, full of the food he’d so carefully and considerately brought. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, but there was a new authority overshadowing their old dynamic, and she just didn’t like it.

Chastised, Matthew actually held his tongue for a few minutes. But every few steps, she caught him peeping up with sharp swings of the beak to glance at her, like he was waiting for a signal to talk again. He looked so awkward, fumbling along at their pace. And earnest.

And none of this was his fault. It wasn’t Fin’s. It wasn’t the raven’s. It… probably wasn’t their master’s, either.

She offered a wan, tired kind of smile that she hoped would ease the tension. He snapped it up.

The raven cleared his throat. “You look nice?”

And she always would. No matter how sick, or exhausted, or miserable, or – The phantom tingle of the fae’s thick salve gleaming with unicorn horn rolled down her arms, and she shuddered.

“Don’t.”

Matthew immediately dropped his head. “Sorry.”

Well shit.

“It’s fine. Just – yeah.”

And with that eloquent excuse of a non-apology, the three fell into a deeper silence.

The trees swallowed the two houses and the bridge that led to them. The path unspooled ahead, under darker boughs, and after a corner or two, the edge of the forest thinned. Too quickly. A slowly as she’d run. Impossible and sensical, because what else could it have ever been.

As the castle came into view, she fought against the dream-fall sensation demanding she wake up. She knew she couldn’t, because she was already, but that didn’t stop of her mind from spinning with the alien logic of this world. She was still looking for an escape, even if she didn’t feel the need to run for one.

A bridge – which she knew for sure wasn’t there before – connected the edge of the forest to the castle’s island. A low, discreet construction entirely unlike the arching causeway she could spy towards the front gates. The Dreaming hadn’t made it a challenge to leave, but it made returning even easier.

It invited her to come home.

Fin huffed, and she caught a smirk twisting his lips before he schooled it into a more dignified expression.

“You’re expected, it seems.”

Her hand spasmed on his arm, and he patted it almost condescendingly.

“Of course,” she murmured, demanding her stomach settle and her feet move.

Fin stayed with her across the bridge, through the garden, to the door that let her out. She felt like a stray dog being returned by a neighbor after a jaunt around the neighborhood, and it took conscious effort not to let her hackles rise. Inside, the castle was as quiet as it had been before, and she wondered again if people were being kept away from her on purpose, and if so, for whose benefit.

They stopped in the first crossroads between hallways. “This is where we leave you.”

“What?” Panic fluttered like butterflies through her gut. Fin settled (most of) them with another one of his looks – teasing, mocking her just enough to assure her this wasn’t anything like she feared. It made her feel stupid. It gave her courage. “I mean – fine. Okay. Why?”

“Why do you think?” Fin pointed to the left. “If you head that way, you’ll find yourself back in the room you woke in. Gwen and Jeff will take care of you.” He pointed to the right. “If you go that way, you’ll find him. If you’re ready to talk.”

He delicately peeled her fingers off his arm, stepped back, and performed a tidy bow. Duty performed, he left her with a wink and walked back the way they’d come in, a way that now offered many more doors and turns than she remembered.

“Good seeing you, Aisling. I’ll see you around?” Matthew didn’t wait for an answer. He launched into the air and flapped after Fin. A last caw caught and echoed through the branching halls, fading until she stood alone with her decision.

The still air pulsed with her thoughts, and her bare soles stuck to the polished floor, rooting her in a whirlpool of feelings she couldn’t face long enough to name. A crossroads. Her crossroads. Another gift from the entity she’d always feared would take away her choice. Was it respect or apology?

He’d lied to her, and even if he wasn’t responsible for… everything else, how could she trust he’d finished with masks? Kindness made for a clever veil, and he’d already surprised her with the face behind one helm.

But he hadn’t destroyed her. Hadn’t let others strip her will when it could’ve suited his purposes.

Romances between gods and mortals rarely ended well, and he was beyond a god. How could she ever hope to understand that? There was no world in which she could be his equal, where he could stoop low enough to grasp her human fears. Holding hands across a chasm like that always ended in a fall. Hadn’t she been enough of a fool already?

She remembered her first dream with him. He was more honest with her then than he’d been since, and the first thing he wanted to show her was the place where he held her the way she’d always held him. For that night at least, everything made sense. Maybe not the pain, but the agonies she’d suffered almost seemed worth it.

She didn’t know what to think. If she never faced their tangled wyrd, the potential bond she’d tasted so briefly, she’d never know how to feel, either. Maybe all this would kill her, but she couldn’t live without knowing.

So, she turned right.

Maybe it was her imagination, but the coolly lit hall seemed a little brighter as she made her way from the crossroads, looking for Morpheus.

She didn’t have to go far. The hall stretched straight ahead. No side passages to distract her. No doors to tempt her curiosity. Dream of the Endless wasn’t hiding, and as he reached out to guide her steps, he shaped the world to his intent.

The hall ended, rounding a little bend and opening into a high-ceilinged room that couldn’t decide what it wanted to be. A gallery. A meeting place. Something old and new and hollow. One wall bristled with shapes emerging from grey-veined marble. Windows stretched from floor to roof, bathing the sculptures of vines, trees, rolling waves, and writhing figures with soft light at odds with the relief’s high drama. There was no furniture. Only space waiting to be filled. And a lone figure. Waiting for her.

No obstacles. No games or tests.

It could all be so, so simple.

Morpheus wore his regal grace with the same ease as his long black coat. But it failed to shroud his melancholy, and his longing wafted through the room in perfumed spirals of burning incense. She breathed it in; it stung her eyes and plucked on the frayed tatters in her chest. Sympathetic pain bloomed, and she rubbed along her sternum automatically, blinking back tears so she could trade them for words.

He broke the silence first. “I welcome you to the Dreaming, Aisling Hunt.”

Without his helm, his voice sounded so different. Incredibly. Even more beautiful, like looking up into a night sky with stars that looked back, but less like a force of the cosmos, more a man who traded in the dust that made worlds. He regarded her, and her intuition thrummed, trying to answer in ways her human body physically couldn’t.

He paused, lips parted on a thought, and the formal weight evaporated, replaced with aching strain that curled his shoulders towards her, even across the room, like a plant bending towards the sun. Strange. Unsettling. She didn’t feel like something bright in his world, but at least he wasn’t hiding behind his grotesque helm again.

“I am, despite everything, glad to have you here.”

Oh.

It shocked her back into her body. Into feet just a little cold and still bare on the floor. Into flesh she was afraid to look at in case she started crying again. The hope and horror bridged, and the most urgent question grew like a weed up her throat.

Well. If he was going to bring it up, then…

“I need to know something.” She rubbed her chest, hoping to pry loose a scrap of courage. None lingered in her heart, but a few tatters could’ve gotten caught in her ribs, and even a slip would do her. “Before this – I need to ask you something. I think I already know, but I need –” She knew how quickly words and oaths could twist under desire’s pressure, and even if she’d committed to playing the fool, even clowns had their limits, and she wouldn’t dance into another lying mirror. “You said you wouldn’t steal me away to hide in shadows, but you could send others to take me, and this place is very bright.”

His shoulders drew back, and his chin lifted. He’d offered her formal welcome and she asked for formal confirmation that he hadn’t betrayed her. She wasn’t ready to burn for him as his sun. She had to know he wouldn’t snuff her out first.

“I did not ask for you to be taken. I did not ask for you to be changed against your will. I did not ask other hands to commit such sins in my name, nor will I in future.” Angling his face down again, he offered her a glimpse at the wrath hidden there. He had not forgotten her suffering. It would not go unpunished. And just as quickly as he revealed his rage, he buried it again, stowing the knives and earthquakes for the villains who’d driven her to ask for proof in the first place. He watched her absorb what he’d said, and his voice turned feather soft. “You are my most cherished guest, and though I ask that you stay until word has spread and it is safe for you to walk the Waking world, you are no prisoner.”

Blinking, she took a deep breath. It rattled all the way down to her fingers, and she shook out her hands to banish the trembling.

“Thank you.” He gave, and he gave, and he gave. Time, space, reassurance. Her gaze roved the complicated mass of imagery covering the wall, looking for a theme. A hint. Frozen sailors reached for the land, tying sails against a wind determined to keep them at sea. Trees bloomed. Flowers fell. Fruit swelled, and snakes crept through their own shed skins as seeds burst from fallen, rotting apples. Time, loss, and rebirth without aim.

“What do you want, Morpheus?”

Had she ever actually asked him? She desperately wanted the truth. The whole thing.

“You were right.” Her own truth. An olive branch. An invitation and a plea. “Others shaped my view of you. So, now’s your chance. Tell me, so I can it from your own mouth. What do you want?”

In this moment, she was judge, jury, and executioner. No one would decide who or what she loved, and she would know the entity whose name she carried before she gave him anything else.

The air turned sharp. It cut the light like a prism, glittering in her monster’s eyes, a focus so sharp it broke sunbeams into their constituent parts. For all the black he wore, he practically glowed, a king in all ways, an open heart in more. Only here. In private. For her.

His eyebrows lifted, pinched. “I want you.” His voice was a song, weaving everything that could be beautiful between them into the simplest terms. “I want to be near you. I want to comfort you.” He approached, drawing his words out with cautious steps, hands hanging stiff at his sides. He halted, just far enough for her to feel safe, even when he spoke again, letting his lust drip into his tone, scenting his song with night-blooming jasmine. “I want to love you and make love to you.”

That was… honest. Heat rushed over her face, and she dropped eye contact like it was the source of the fire.

Fuck.

It was, actually.

When she first saw him, locked away in the cage beneath Fawney Rig, she thought his beauty was a warning, a good reason to look away and avoid him. Beautiful things were almost always cruel, but now… Well, things were different, weren’t they?

“I want you to know me.” He glanced out the window, and she instinctively did the same, looking over distant mountains and glittering bridges. World beyond worlds. “The Dreaming is a part of me. Simply by walking it, I feel you’re exploring me.”

They looked at each other again, just a little closer than before, and the hope in her monster’s eyes made him almost boyish. He was older than her planet, probably. But even an Endless must be reborn sometimes, in some ways, like the snake winding through the rotting fruit.

So, she’d met him when the water splashed over her toes. She let him comfort her when she drank the tea and ate the food of the Dreaming. Even if she hadn’t held his hand or looked in his eyes, and he was reaching for her in all but body now.

Fine.

Alright then.

She wouldn’t be anxious over a project she’d already begun.

“May I touch you?”

His smile bloomed soft and sweet. “Yes.”

Having the permission she needed from his strange eyes, his lips, the face she still didn’t know, she looked at his hands. She drew the tips of her fingers along his knuckles, a whispered touch asking for an answer, and he lifted the hand for her inspection, turning it over so she could see the creases of his palms. Invitation and vulnerability. Her touch wandered the lines, trying to read the silky flesh like a book. Palmistry had never been her forte, though, and she only found her own memories in his life and love lines.

“I know these better than your face,” she admitted. They felt safer, something secure to hold when his galaxy eyes threatened to sweep her away.

She found her courage in inches, lifting her eyes to his shoulders. His neck, his skin pale and untouchable as a reflection of the moon. Would she find the same strength in the rest of him as she did in his hands? The same possessive tenderness? The same call that felt like a puzzle coming together when she stroked his fingers, demanding and comforting as a deep breath after a dive?

Gingerly, like one or both of them was made of glass, she pressed an index finger to either side of his jaw. The barest caress drew along the edge of his face, not just feeling him, but listening to the hushed drag of skin on skin, until her two hands met, fingertip to fingertip, over the point of his chin. A sigh gusted down her wrists, along her elbows, and a rebel army of goosebumps sprang to life at his summons.

Without entirely meaning to, she looked up and met his eyes, and once she found them, they snared her.

It was entirely unfair for anyone to have actual stars in their eyes, and she read her doom in them as easily as she read her cards.  

“I’d like to kiss you.”

His eyes flicked to her lips, and he shifted closer, keeping his hands to his side despite the way his want curled out to close the distance like a physical force. Well. It was his world. Perhaps it was. It found her heart and tugged.

Her own gaze dropped to his mouth, waiting to read his answer. “May I?”

“Yes.” His voice rumbled so low and strong she felt it like thunder. No hesitation.

She wondered if she’d have to rise onto her toes to reach him, but he swept down to meet her, giving rather than waiting for her to cautiously claim what she’d asked for. Her eyes fluttered shut at the first caress. A soft touch expressing and savoring everything she’d allow. There was no demand, but as she pressed into the kiss, chasing the delicate friction, he answered in kind.

Little sparks carried through her blood. Through her mind. Urging something to life. Drops of sunshine calling up flowers in springtime. He tasted like traces of smoke from a campfire on a cold night. Vellum and lignin. The last breath before a jump.

When she broke away to breathe, she peered into his face, and she felt the trembling rush of standing in a high place. In the Dreaming, were the butterflies in her stomach real, too?

His hands hovered, framing her face with restrained yearning.

“May I touch you?” Gravel thickened his voice until it nearly broke, and he searched her expression with bared desperation. “May I hold you so I may feel you are well? May I love you, my little hero?”

She settled her hands over his, kissed his palm, and guided his fingers to her cheek, closing the gap he’d left for her to decide in. “You may touch me.”

He accepted her permission with open wonder, taking a full moment to rest where she’d led him, moving just enough to stroke the line of her cheekbone with his thumb. When he freed himself of the spell she’d so innocently cast, he let his touch wander – sweeping over her brow, tracing her nose, cradling her jaw. But when he came to her mouth, he lost his focus. He replaced hand with lips, jolting back after the briefest, most chaste contact when he realized he hadn’t asked permission.

She grabbed the lapels of his long coat, shaking the fear from his expression. “You can kiss me. Please. You don’t need to ask. Not tonight.”

The worried frown he’d grown melted. A smirk washed up his face, dark with promise. But he didn’t tease her. He claimed another, proper kiss instead. Free to touch her, he angled her face with careful pressure, showing her how best to deepen the pleasure of lips, and teeth, and tongues, until she was equally breathless and reluctant to breathe.

Resting forehead-to-forehead as she recovered – as she gathered air to take the plunge again – he asked, “May I hold you?”

“Yes.” Her turn to answer quickly, for an ache to strain her voice.

Long limbs twined around her, drawing her close with a hand on her back and another on his him as her monster once again set to work trying to consume her. She did finally rise onto her toes, begging for more with eager hands slipping up his shoulders to comb into his hair. He gave her too much to feel, and she couldn’t give each piece its due. His lips gliding over hers. The secure warmth of his arms. Smooth skin and soft hair. The pressure of his chest against hers.

She knew pains like this. Sensations too overwhelming and complicated to make sense of. But she’d never felt pleasure the same way, and it swept her away faster than a riptide. She’d given the sea permission to drown her, though, so it was alright. More than alright. Wonderful.

He wasn’t as cool as he’d been when she first touched him. The rosy heat didn’t blush over his skin, but it pressed out to meet her, as if he was taking inspiration from the pulse and flush of mortality. Her blood warmed her because it must. He only warmed from a desire to be near.

“And may I love you?” A kiss to her cheek. “May I?” Another just below her ear. Withdrawing to lift her gathered hands to his lips, holding her gaze, he brushed a third kiss over her knuckles. “May I?”

Almost too disoriented to answer, she nodded, running her palms over his clothed chest. “Yes. Please, Morpheus – ”

His name on her lips tore through the last of his self-control. Finally. Finally given permission. Finally near enough to touch, and taste, and take. He crushed her closer with tender, rabid affection, kisses wandering to her cheek, down her neck, and back to her lips to share her sighs.

Maybe she wasn’t the sun, but how she burned for him.

Lovely as it was, she wanted his coat off. With their lips tangled together, she struggled to ask, but she pushed at it, and he wordlessly agreed, helping her peel it away from his shoulders to drop, abandoned, somewhere behind him. Her monster’s greatest frustration with the act was the time he spent with his hands otherwise occupied, and he grabbed her back to him like they’d been separated for years, not seconds.

His hand slipped beneath the soft shirt he so thoughtfully provided when she woke, and she whimpered into his mouth, caught off guard by how good this new wave of sensation felt. Fragments of control washed away with each graze of a knuckle or press of his palm along her back, pulled away as sand in the surf.

When she released her hold on his shoulders, he left her break the kiss, his eyes somehow even darker as he watched her reach for the hem of the garment. He helped her – carefully, reverently – guiding her arms and head out of the fabric. His lips parted as he looked her over, and he reached for the bottom of his own shirt. She mirrored his performance, helping him with the simplest chore of escaping his clothes, and when he emerged from the black shirt’s depths, he reappeared with a smile. A little amused. Deeply fond.

More kisses. Cautious hands mapping new spaces. Enjoying each other slowly so the heat could grow. Shared breaths, every shudder and shift pressed into the other’s flesh. Wrapped up in each other entirely. There wasn’t room for fear or doubt; they stood much too close.

Even when Dream pulled back again, something as fiendish as it was loving in his expression, she couldn’t remember there was a room or a world beyond him.

He spread his palm wide over the center of her chest, covering the flesh between him and his mark, and he pressed down. Gravity bent to his will, an intractable urge. She fell to his desire and found herself sprawled flat on something comfortable that wasn’t a bed. But he left her no time to wonder, following her with a rain of kisses that left her dizzy. As his hands crept down, he hovered, watching for her to revoke her permission, or even the slightest hint of discomfort. But by the time he’d reached the rest of her clothes, her hands fluttered around his, trying to slip multiple layers off in one go. She wanted her pants gone as much as she’d wanted rid of his coat, and he chuckled as she kicked them off the last inch.  

Once she’d escaped the last fabric keeping her from his touch, she drew him back for a kiss, this one so soft it spoke his thanks. His care.

Although he rested between her legs, he didn’t rush. He attended her breasts, plucking yelps and giggles from hidden ticklish spots, rising back to her lips again and again as she grew hotter and more desperate under his hands. They might’ve spent a hundred years hovering on the threshold, finding each other in grazes and kneading grips.  

At last, he roved lower, and even as he brushed his lips over hers, his thumb rolled over her bud. Slowly, tortuously almost, he fluttered over the nub, refusing to explore further until she whimpered and writhed. He traced down her folds and groaned. She could feel how wet he’d made her, and the mortification would’ve swamped her if she couldn’t feel how excited it left him. The bulge pressing against her hip left no doubt.

His fingers sank inside, curling to pull something out of her. She gave him a moan, a fluttering thing, unsure on new wings, and he hovered with his mouth hanging open in awe, like he could catch it. Keep it. Cage it in his ribs to keep. Before, when he’d pleasured her in the dream, he had plenty to say, even when his mouth was on her. That was worship. This was communion. A true meeting, a joining without words.

He worked her open diligently. And all the while, he held her gaze, feasting on it.

Every nerve sang for him, and he coaxed her to the very edge before she grabbed his wrist. He froze, looking for pain in her expression, and she kissed the worried line between his eyebrows.

“I want you.”

She didn’t need to explain. With a look so vulnerable he almost looked hurt, he said, “You have me.”

When he pulled back this time, he took her with him, and she sat astride his lap as he worked a mark into her neck, giving her time to change her mind. His pants had magically disappeared. She wasn’t at all surprised, though she’d wanted to help take them off herself. Next time, maybe.

Next time? There would be a next time. And another next time. And all the next times she wanted.

Elated by her revelation, she all but yanked his face from her neck so she could kiss him properly. He laughed, and it tasted like elderflower cordial, rich and sweet enough to make her drunk with one sip. She ground down on his length, and his hands spasmed on her waist.

“I’m ready,” she assured him with an eager peck. “I want this.”

He shifted, arranging himself to brush her entrance, but he didn’t press. Even here, he waited for her. She sank to meet him, her grip on his shoulders seizing as she stretched. His hold moved to her back, her neck, cradling her near instead of exerting any kind of control. And she was glad. She needed it as her eyes all but rolled back into her skull.

As light kisses rained over her face, she fought to relax, to take him entirely. She only opened her eyes once she had him. Once he had her. And once she saw him, she wondered how she could ever turn away again.

It was the way he looked at her. Fathomless patience meeting desperation. All of it honed by time. He’d craved her company before she was born, and he’d wrestled back his yearning until it cut into his soul to keep from scaring her away.

He wanted to be seen, and held, and cared for, too.

A thousand adoring words bubbled up her throat, but it wasn’t the right time, so she peppered them soundlessly down his neck and along his collarbones instead.

And she moved.

The drag was almost too much. The pressure brought stars to her own eyes, and although she refused to close them, sometimes she thought they’d fluttered shut, because the push and pull of their lovemaking really was blinding. He stroked up to meet each roll of her hips, crooning as she kissed and petted and squeezed him.

They were the turn of stars, the draw of ancient voids too vast for names, and all the voiceless songs strung between worlds.

She forgot the pain in her chest. She forgot she’d ever done anything but burn for her monster. Her Morpheus.

If she wasn’t the sun, she must’ve swallowed one.

The inferno melted her from the inside out, and she all but fell apart, wrapped around him, and cheek-to-cheek, he groaned in her ear. She panted, open-mouthed, fighting for air and sense as he kept his slow, deliberate pace. He hadn’t even begun to have his fill yet, and he held her all the tighter as her quaking limbs refused to play.

When feeling eventually returned to her legs, she pulled them around his waist, anchoring herself and refusing to release him as adamantly as he clung to her. The otherworldly sensations lingered, but she remembered herself a little more, found the cognizance to appreciate who held her, who she’d accepted. Who stoked the flame, sheathed inside.

Even as he worked her up to another orgasm, a painfully soft part of her heart burst open, and affection flooded her system. It bled open and free, forcing tears to her eyes.

She was safe, and he was hers, and she –

She really had to tell him somehow. She couldn’t bear to say it, though.

She’d be worthy of his face. She’d break him out of a thousand cages. If only he’d keep her so close and secure and warm.

This time when she trembled to pieces, there was no putting her back together, and her monster graciously followed her release. He kissed her as he came, holding her still so they could feel every shudder of the end. And when he’d finished, as their breathing steadied, he tumbled with her back into something soft, never once letting her slip from his arms.