#it was like a journal of all my fangirling

[midukki]

hi there

[princeofyorkshire]

i like occasionally coming back here and having no knowledge of what louis is up to tbh. it feels like coming to visit your old school to see your friends

[ybklix]

𝐬𝐞𝐱 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐢𝐭𝐲

dear lord, when i get to heaven, please let me bring my man (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡ fr omg

★ pairing: idol!lee felix x fem!reader

✦summary: You got your dream job on one of the most important day for fashion industry, everything seems like a fairy tale, until you meet one of the people you are working for, which complicates your thoughts, a guy with an angelic face, however he is for you the devil wearing custom couture Tommy Hilfiger.

✭ content - tags - warnings: smut / one night stand / use of “y/n”/ handjob / oral sex / soft degrading / dom felix / semi public sex / unprotected sex / etc lol

word count: 5.1k

(masterlist)

♡ notes: 2024 felix at the met gala ♡

a/n: had to write smth ab my man looking this good on a big day, oopsies / all fiction, don't really know how's behind scenes lol / i'm watching the series so i'm romanticizing the carrie type of writing, enjoy!

There’s an old saying… “what happens in Vegas, stay in Vegas”, and for the New Yorkers with enough amount of luck, the equivalent of that would be: “what happens in the Met Gala, stays in the Met gala.”

You either had to be a celebrity with high status, or a very wealthy person… or sometimes, just part of the staff; yes you were in last link, but you were still happy.

There you were, on the first Monday of May, standing outside of the iconic decorated stairs of the Metropolitan Museum of Art, on the also iconic, 5th avenue of East side of Manhattan. Living your dream, because this year, you were inside, and not anymore as a viewer.

Life was going great for you, you’ll graduate from college exactly in nine days, and you were booked as a tour guide in the Met Gala a month ago. It was your dream job, even though you majored in journalism, working for Vogue was always your dream to be, you’ve been applying for the Met ever since you turned eighteen, and finally there you were wearing a vintage YSL black dress, from a vintage store in Soho, whose rent costs more than you apartment’s, with some Manolo shoes, living your little Carrie Bradshaw fantasy. But that didn’t matter, yeah, she was a woman with a steady job and you only a freshly graduated who expected to get hired as soon as you get your diploma.

They prepared you the whole past month, and you picked up your ID last week; this was going to look wonderful in your resume. You loved fashion, arts, writing, you didn’t care there was another 500 people doing exactly the same as you, you were there, living inside your bubble of the gossip girl and devil wears Prada vibes.

A lot of people hated New York; but you never could, you had a nice apartment on west side of Manhattan and an incredible fashion taste. You had to work as a staff for one the most emerging kpop groups, Stray Kids, or at least that’s what you read about online, you did your research: eight male members, only two of them fluent in English and the rest of them just shy to speak it out loud… you weren’t that unfamiliar at all, you recognized kpop is one of the greatest genres these days, but you were twenty one and going through your finals as the provided you that information, so you followed their social medias, caught up a little in their updates, learned their names and faces —which was very important—, but couldn’t fully concentrate in how handsome they were or at least get yourself a little of fangirlism. Once again, you were sinking in the lasts and very important moments of college.

So the thing was simple, they usually bring their own people around but for this event was the exception, once they stepped on the radar of these popular stairs, they were under the Met Gala staff, that’s when you get in.

You were waiting for them standing among the group of people who would be working the same as you, all with their dress code in black-only etiquette, to go unnoticed. It was your first Met Gala, although you didn't want to flatter yourself either in such a big way, but you had chosen a sexy dress with your back uncovered, you wanted simplicity, but not too much. The heels were starting to bother you a bit until, as fate would have it, a stout black man in charge of monitoring, with headphones on his bald head and clipboard in his hand shouted in a strong New York accent to the group of people you were in.

“The following celebrities are Stray Kids, I repeat so you can listen in the back, Stray Kids is coming! Their team step up to lead them in.”

Nerves got the better of you, it was your turn; you had seen your other ‘colleagues’ guide their respective assigned celebrities, so now it was your time. You hurried to the entrance, along with another girl and two other men. The large black van pulled up to sidewalk and finally, just as you had researched, eight pretty East Asian looking men exited one by one.

You tried to identify the one you had previously studied as their leader and one of the English speakers, until he finally emerged just to one side of you.

“It's this way, boys” your coworker, who was a little ahead of you, led the way.

The eight of them walked a bit and met their designer, the legitimate Tommy Hilfiger, while among the chaos of noise and nerves you tried to identify each one you were working for; they were all wearing long coats but you could distinguish that it was just to hide their real attire.

But apparently you were not the only one nervous, it was also their first Met Gala, an incredibly big event, a bit out of what they knew, in one of the countries where the music market was of utmost importance to consider and succeed, each one of them recognized that this was an important day and simply one more step in their artistic career. They were all nervous and excited; but even so you noticed a somewhat monotonous expression on each of them, you thought it was just nerves. You got a good look at them all as they talked to their designer in charge and noticed how each one had their own charm, they were attractive and smelled quite nice. You thought about how much fun this job is for you, being around celebrities.

“And y/n, right?” he came up to you, the man who had previously been giving directions to your boys.

You nodded, confused, he went on to say:

“I’m informed that you will be going into the museum with them, you can take the lead” he said in a strangely kind tone.

You smiled at him, you had forgotten the last time you met a nice New Yorker. It was when you realized it was time, you took a breath with your cheeks and released them, once you saw they finished their little talk, you took a step so everyone could see you and introduced yourself; it was part of your job and you had been trained for it. You started with a “hi, guys”, told them your name and added that you would accompany them to the exhibit. You looked forward to going in there.

You got the attention of all eight of them, after all they were still men, foreign men excited for a new experience. Once you turned around as you led the way you questioned if wearing that open back dress was the best choice, you hadn't really intended it that way; you also didn't expect them all to be 100 times more attractive in person, the pictures you saw on the internet didn't do them justice.

All the members of Stray Kids were with their respective emotions on edge, but especially one of them didn't know how to control himself. Felix, who at all times kept a serious countenance was more than excited and his body was reacting to it, betraying him, he was aroused. He wasn't exactly in the mood for sex, but somehow he felt uncomfortably hard. He was simply an excited little Asian boy with a not-so-little problem. An erection in his pants.

Felix had the experience at these kinds of fashion events, but simply something about this city drove him incredibly crazy. Somehow he was thirsty for sex… but he didn't feel like he was at this very moment. He had to put on his best show and control his body, he slyly checked his pants and it was a relief that the design was perfectly loose so it couldn't be noticed. But it all got worse when he saw his pretty young guide and staff for tonight, with her pretty makeup and perfect hair done, with her back uncovered.

Felix read her name on her ID hanging on her body and checked slyly if anyone else of his friends and colleagues thought the same as him… he could notice it in the look of his friend Bang Chan, however Felix noticed the little importance that Chan himself gave her and continued treating her with kindness and courtesy, who from time to time gave her a certain look was his other friend Seungmin, who was the master of disguise, but not for Felix, not after knowing him so long and living with him.

But that was just the thrill of the moment, as Felix took full control of his body as he approached his final stretch, an interview and then the longed-for Met Gala stairs. Like a pro idol, he knew how to handle it, and everyone had a spectacular and memorable entrance.

You saw them from afar, Bang Chan had introduced you to each one of them and thanked you for accompanying them even though you hadn’t start yet, you thought he was an unreal man, in fact all eight of them were, their perfectly manicured faces and the subtlety of their make-up were to you so…. You were speechless; but if you had to choose one, putting yourself in the shoes of millions of girls around the world even of your age discovering an attractive boy band, maybe among them all… it would be the only blond guy with long hair. You thought between sighs how cute he was, you were down bad when it came to cute boys, also the long-haired ones.

You remembered his name, Felix; a little strange, it sounded like an old name but somehow it fit him so well, you thought; now you were not only fulfilling your dream job, you would be together with eight handsome men, you almost wanted to let out a little giggle, but it was time to monitor how well they took the pictures of your “bosses” as they posed on the carpet.

You waited a moment more before finally entering, it seemed like hours, until finally the doors opened for you and there suddenly you felt your heart burst, not even Felix's pretty face could have impacted you so much, the exhibition of unique pieces in the haute couture of fashion history.

“You can start to separate and see freely” you mentioned to them.

You saw them, they looked totally lost.

“Mm, I don't think so, we like to stay together” Chan answered with a nervous smile.

“Well, if you like, we can start here…” you spoke.

You didn't want to keep them tied up nor did you want to feel like a big deal, you were only going to accompany them and follow their instructions, however they seemed to follow yours; you gave yourself the task of showing them every corner and giving them a little summary of what each exhibit meant, however you couldn't help hiding your excitement, your eyes shone with care and all eight noticed your adorable expression, even those who couldn't fully understand you because of the language barrier, your expressions spoke for themselves. And Felix couldn't take his eyes off you the whole tour.

Felix didn't understand what was wrong with him, whether it was the excitement of the foreigner, the significant change of time zone, his pretty part of the assigned staff, or the incredible urge to have sex. He wasn't normally like that… well, at least not in places like these. He left the dirty thoughts for later when he was in the quiet of solitude. But just now he had those thoughts of how hot it must be to be fucking someone while wearing that perfectly tailored suit, making a mess among all the tidiness that went with it all.

He wasn't like that… but the more he thought about it, the more he was tempted, he thought it would be the only time he would see you, that you had to be professional and not at all indiscreet, that it would only be one night. He was becoming more and more convinced, what was wrong with him? He was handsome, young, successful and very well endowed, he only needed to show his gifts to someone. Felix thought if that someone could be you; this was not Felix who thinks dating and love were important, suddenly something came over him, like a haughty alter ego blinded by his dazzling fame, ready to just have sex.

The main event started, the dinner and the show, you had gotten a table, only confirmed by the exclusively selected staff in perhaps, one of the worst areas, still you were in, from going to see the Met outside on the street, to being seated next to a bunch of celebrities in the same room; you were so happy you could die the next day thinking you made it.

But once the show was over, little by little so was your spark, it was time to go back to your reality and take a cab home; the folks at that table were mentioning something about an after party, among them and a bunch more… but you didn't want the smell of celebrities and fame to leave your pores and get lost in some stranger's apartment.

You were about to check out when a short woman rushes up to you asking if there was any Stray Kids staff at the table.

“Here, me!” you showed her your ID quizzically. “What's going on?”

“What are you doing here? They're escorting you to the after party.”

Puzzled, you mumbled a “what?” and followed her hurried pace as she was leaving.

“After party, with who?”

The woman stopped in her tracks and turned to look at you.

“Well, who are you working for.”

Impossible, you thought. You were supposed to check out and you weren't allowed to go outside the museum, they couldn't just invite you like that, could they? Why would they? Besides you were working for the museum, not for them. Sadly, you had to make it clear to them.

You walked towards them who were already at the main exit leaving with other celebrities, you got up the courage and approached them.

“Nice to meet you guys, but I think it was a misunderstanding, I can't accompany you, I work for the museum… they didn't give me directions to follow you.”

“And what time do you leave?” Chan asked you with a hoarse voice and eyes fixed on you.

“Just now…” you added awkwardly, not knowing what to say as the eight men stared at you.

“Perfect” Chan said in a thick accent with a smile.

“Now you work for us, let's go to the after party” spoke in a cold, distant and arrogant tone the pretty blond boy who had caught your attention.

You had not heard him speak, not until now. You were too surprised by the contrast of his angelic face and his incredibly thick voice.

You were able to register your exit and hurriedly kept up with the boys.

“We liked the way you explained the exhibition, we will have you as translator now” Chan told you as he quickened his pace leaving you behind.

It didn't make the slightest sense what he just said. You don't even speak Korean.

You sighed and could not deny the excitement of living another adventure, it was not like they were forcing you, you were now going to go to the legendary Met Gala after party.

You got into a dark van along with more of their staff and in the minutes of traffic you were finally there. You couldn't believe it, for a moment you stopped thinking that things made sense.

Luckily you were not alone, but accompanied by another girl in the staff, all looked great but it was evident that no one wanted to socialize with you and it was difficult for you to do so; so you felt uncomfortable and out of place, questioning if you should really be there.

After a few minutes you noticed that Felix stood up from his seat, taking the button of his suit and slyly approached you.

“Can you come with me?” he whispered in your ear with his deep voice.

You froze, and followed him without thinking too much, something wasn't right when it came to him…. besides, you thought you had to follow his instructions.

Felix went to a private bathroom, you wanted to think that maybe he wanted you to take care of his coat… if not, why else would he ask you to accompany him; he entered quickly, in a suspicious way and then came out quickly looking around frantically, until he pulled you by the arm and took you with him to that small elegant bathroom, locking the door. You couldn't process the speed of the actions and suddenly, you saw his piercing gaze in front of yours.

What was going on?

Felix had enough, watching you flirtatiously talking to Chan, sweet talking all his friends, there was nothing else to explain but that he was horny and wanted to have you right now. You weren't stupid, you noticed his looks but wanted to ignore them, but it turns out that wasn't what he wanted.

So there you were, inwardly struggling whether to play along with whatever he intended to do or put your ethics above… you analyzed him, he looked so good with his long hair and white suit, you'd probably never see him again, you wanted to bite your lip just thinking about how dangerous and fast-paced some kind of sex like that would be, on the sly. But you couldn't make up your mind, this was about Conde Nast, your dream, not easy access to fuck.

Felix noticed too the early darkness in your gaze, reflecting lust, he was already hard from just thinking about your ass slapping his pelvis as he thrust his cock in and out your pussy mercilessly. You so wet, making a mess, the two of you indulging in passion while a bunch of people decide to party outside.

“I don't normally do this but… I may only see you once in my life…”

Felix said in a voice thicker than what you had heard and came dangerously close to you, who were glued to the door, perplexed.

“Felix…” you wanted to think clearly but his full lips in a perfect heart shape were distracting you.

“If you want to fuck me… you have to promise me to never tell anyone.”

Felix whispered plaintiff in your left ear, losing himself in the scent of you hair. You couldn't take it anymore, if he kept talking, you might cum at any moment.

You understood the situation of things and the importance of his comment, after all he was still a global superstar. But not telling would not only be a beautiful secret to take to your grave and something fun to remember, but it would also be beneficial for you, because under no circumstances should a female employee have sex with her assigned celebrity. You would be banned from all of Manhattan or the city if possible, public enemy number one.

He moved closer to your ear, thinly brushing his lips on it and making you lose control little by little by his approach. You closed your eyes, completely lost, fuck it, you would fuck him and never see him again, at least not this intimacy.

“Why would I fuck and tell...?” you whispered completely lost in desire.

He chuckled, and finally grabbed you by the waist. Felix sought your lips and you kissed slowly, deeply and passionately, the kiss was so strong that you felt the pressure of his upturned nose on your face. You knew it was so wrong at any angle analyzed… but it felt so right, his lips were soft and he moved them with agility, your hands were still glued to the wall in surprise, but gradually you relaxed and managed to hold on to the ends of his jacket.

Felix also relaxed and his right hand moved down to your naked back and slowly and nimbly he moved his hand in until he squeezed and caressed your ass, his actions surprised you that you almost moaned at the touch, separating you a little from the kiss.

He pulled a few inches away from your lips and, as he ran his hand all around your ass, he looked you over with a look of superiority.

“You're such a slut, only wearing a fucking thong, almost like you were ready for me” he said with a husky voice.

This time you felt his noticeable bulge brush against your belly and his soft touch made you wetter and wetter.

“Get on your knees, beautiful.”

He ordered and you obeyed. Felix was sick of feeling horny, he wanted a quick fix, to strip the tight garments off his cock and be attended to urgently, once he had enough of his own, he was going to take over pleasuring you fully.

Your breath was getting shorter and shorter and you felt his member on the fabric, you thought about how good he looked from below and in all possible angles, then you pulled down his pants, ready to give him the best blowjob ever —or at least you hoped so—, you couldn't resist, you simply pulled down his underwear too, finding his throbbing and delicious cock so needy, its tip was bright pink and poor Felix was already showing signs of small droplets of pre-seminal fluid, and to think he had a fine and angelic face…. You had never felt so hungry and desirous, you were totally possessed; you wanted it in your hands, in your mouth, pounding your face, pounding your cervix… so you felt it, that firm hard manly hunk, at the mercy of your hands, feeling every texture of his skin.

Felix gasped, lifting his buttoned shirt a little, revealing a bit of his smooth but working abdomen. You took some of his fluid and spread it all over his length, lubricating it, it felt so good, but you were also so needy and desperate, and the thin fabric covering your intimate area didn't help at all, you felt the garment getting smaller and smaller, you felt your wet pussy growing and throbbing causing a delicious friction; but you thought you had to be more careful, your whole outfit was black, one stain of semen or fluids and you had to pay for the dress.

You moved a little away from him, hoping that no droplets of him fell on your attire, still you held his erection tightly with your left hand, making frantic movements, back and forth.

He was ecstatic, it was all he needed, to be sexually attended to; the New York air suited Felix Lee wonderfully, and the New York girl… he thought… she was out of this world, her hands felt fantastic on his hard manhood. He wanted to cum roughly, but he wanted to do it dirty in his employee's mouth and pretty face… he would never act like the beastly thing he was doing in Seoul, but new place, try new things.

So between sighs and gasps, he lowered his gaze and tried to communicate with her.

“Use your pretty mouth.”

You never thought he was going to ask, you didn't hesitate for a second, and the grotesque sound of your saliva dripping on his cock were heavenly; his sex was hot and smooth, the texture felt so good inside your cheeks but once again, you are desperate for him to take you and start moving your guts.

Within minutes, Felix cum in your mouth amid moans and groans, and the softest but most effective hair pulls, to make you go exquisitely deeper. You never thought he was so vocal, with a voice like that, you were in heaven; and it took you only a few seconds to drink his cum, as a reward.

“I think we need to get rid of that dress” he said trying to catch his breath. “I'll buy you 3 more, no worries.”

He took you by the chin, inviting you to stand up and helped you take off the dress, you were so excited that your vision was blurred and you couldn't think clearly… what was his next move….

You were amazed at how incredibly hard and standing still he was even after he had just cum, you thought, after all kpop idols did have it all, great stage presence, big penis, music talent, and for sex too.

He sat you on the small counter, him facing the mirror, the stone was cold and you were finally, almost, completely naked in front of him, wearing only your thin thong. Felix wasted no time and positioned himself between your legs, kissing you deeply and desperately as you carefully felt the tip of his penis brush your wet center each time they came closer, he moved his kisses down, to your neck, massaged your breasts and kissed and sucked them mercilessly, you wanted to scream with excitement but you were acutely aware that there were people outside, never mind the noise of the party. Once on your chest, he turned his angelic face up, with a dark mischievous look and that's when you felt his thumb caress your clit.

You moaned in relief, finally your exhausted pussy was going to be given attention. His movements were slow until each time he increased the acceleration, you couldn't help but writhe in pleasure and when your body contracted ready to climax, Felix introduced his fingers inside you, he felt the softness of your insides so lubricated and ready to feel his erection beating you frantically.

“Look at me” he asked once he saw that your attention was focused for a few seconds on his right hand playing with your pussy.

“Uh-mm” you murmured, nodding softly, almost in moans.

You weren't thinking clearly but decided to hold back the urge to cum just to feel his fingers inside you for a few more moments. You looked into his big dark eyes; you felt that he looked more calm and serious with that gaze locked on you and his innocent freckled look, unlike you that your eyes was totally submissive and you were almost about to cry with pleasure, oh and Felix loved that, all that mess because of him.

“I'm going to cum, Fe…” you moaned.

But you couldn't even speak, he accelerated his movements and your belly contracted so pleasantly bringing you to your first orgasm.

“I'm not done yet; let me clean up that mess you made.”

And without warning, Felix leaned down, gripping your thighs tightly, two of his fingers still freshly wet from my fluids, marked on your thigh; Felix ran his hot tongue across your cunt, licking all your cum.

He began to eat your pussy carefully, almost accomplishing step by step and you loved the delicacy of what he was doing, you were seeing stars, you didn't want this to ever end, you wanted him on you all the time. You took advantage and also took hold of his tightly tied hair. He did it so well that you had to cum a second time.

And finally, the act you both had been waiting for since he locked the door; Felix had saved the urge and was once again swollen and throbbing, screaming for attention and action. He cleaned the edges of his mouth in a attractive manner.

“Shit, I don't have a condom” he said in annoyance.

“It's okay, I'd never have your baby anyway.”

Felix smiled and you watched his erection in front of your pussy, until he gently pushed it in, until you closed your eyes once again in pleasure.

“I'm going to cum inside you and make sure your pussy misses every part of me.”

Felix whispered hotly in your right ear as you pressed your bodies closer and closer together, until you ended up with your legs wrapped around his waist, crushing bit of his outfit, and your hands on his shoulders. And then, he rammed you fast and as delicious as no one else had ever done, you moaned softly to avoid any strange noises from outside. It was incredible, you thought, his rhythm was strong and constant and when you began to lubricate his penis more indicating your soon orgasm, Felix separated from you and in quick movements he changed your position, lowered you from the counter, turned your body and introduced his penis making you stand still and making you both see yourselves in the mirror.

You couldn't be happier, you loved the fiction of his shirts stuck to your body of the clothes he still had on, and he began to pound more frantically and wildly, giving way to the sound of your skins colliding and your fluids combining. Felix held you tightly by the waist as he pulled your body away and closer, controlling it in his own way, you wanted to help him, moving your ass a little but his grip was too strong. You were with your back arched, holding tightly to the sink, giving choked moans as you felt his strong thrusts. Watching him fuck you in the mirror was fucking hot, he looked so attractive with his half-open mouth letting out soft moans and his concentrated countenance, frowning and his eyes locked on your ass, then on you.

Felix grabbed your hair in his fist and pulled it to pull you closer to him and glued you to his body, just when you thought it couldn't get any better, his thrusts were deeper that way and you were touching the edge.

“Do you like the way I fuck you, little slut, huh?”

You tried to nod between gripping your hair.

“Say it.”

“Yes-yes, Felix, ahh it feels good.”

“You feel good too, sweetheart, you're doing a great job.”

His dirty talk close to your ear were just more elements to make you cum faster and faster and each time you were more and more surprised, as his pace increased, finally making you climax, for the third time.

Felix smiled in victory as he felt your pussy muscles first tighten and then relax releasing more of your luscious fluids, wetting and hugging his hard cock, Felix continued another small moment, until he cum gloriously inside you and a little more above your ass.

You were perplexed. The sexual connection had been real. You both tried to catch your breath, he helped you put your dress back on and as you changed, Felix felt a little bad about just using you for his carnal desires, for you honestly it had been just a good fuck and you had your feet on the ground being aware that someone like him and you could never be together.

“So… Are you officially working on something related for Vogue?”

You smiled, as you tried to touch up your makeup, it was a bit badly retouched.

“No, it's my dream, they just hired me as a one-off for this year.”

“Maybe you should learn Korean and move there, Vogue Korea is still Vogue, isn't it?” he mentioned flirtatiously.

You chuckled again, that implied many things and at the same time none for you.

“Go out first, y/n, then I'll go out. I'll transfer you for the dresses outside, I don't even have my phone here” he said, finally in his deep voice calmer, almost looking tender, in his thick accent.

You smiled and looked at him one last time, before finally leaving for the party. Leaving you wanting more, but also with nothing more than just sex in the city.

[xinganhao]

🏠︎ you have thirteen (13) new texts.

꒰ kae ✧ they/them ✧ 20+ ✧ southeast asian ꒱ text imagines & smaus ── sideblog to @ylangelegy ´･ᴗ･`

⤿ requests are CLOSED + inbox is always open ! scroll through all my work. masterlist under the cut.

before you go... ִ𖤐 guidelines & guides

¹ any requests sent while requests are indicated to be closed will not be considered. ² i reserve the right to pick & choose which requests to entertain. ³ please let me know via inbox or comments if i missed any tags/content warnings on any of my posts.

🍰 requests ⋆🍓 personal favorites ⋆ 💐 series ⋆ 🔞 contains mature themes.

✆ send to: all members.

svt reacts to you posting a thirst trap on ig

svt with a 'black cat' partner 🍰

svt when idol!reader dedicates a song to them 🍰

svt gets jealous ft. producer!reader 🍰

svt when reader journals about them 🍰

svt with a 'nerd' partner 🍰🍓

svt checking in on an overworked!reader 🍰🍓

svt 'booty call' texts 🍰🔞

svt when you ask them 'do you like me?' 🍰

svt when you get jealous 🍰

svt when idol!reader releases a breakup song 🍰

svt reacts to 'i used to have a little bit of a crush on you' 🍰

svt vs. reader's bad boyfriend 🍰

svt reacts to your drunk texts 🍰

svt with a 'fangirl' partner 🍰

svt detective x thief au 🍰🍓

svt (taylor's version), love song edition

svt (taylor's version), heartbreak edition

svt reacts to your 'got waxed by a guy' prank 🍰

svt and the ways they make your heart flutter 🍰

svt reacts to idol!reader having dating rumors 🍰

svt answers 'what's your favorite juno position?' 🔞

svt x reverse tropes

✆ send to: group chat.

footnotes ! work done for milestones are linked to their respective masterlists.

milestone event: svt university ── ☏ ongoing

milestone event: ??? ── ☏ upcoming

series: svt burner accounts ── ☏ ongoing

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[mygnolia]

FALLING FOR MY MC! ౨ৎ y. jungwon

୨୧ -› where a music bank mc and leader of the hottest k-pop group meet and fall in love (again)

pair -› idol!yang jungwon x radio/podcast host!!reader | trope -› childhood friends to lovers | wc -› 1.9k | REN SAYS.. i thought this idea was cute when someone requested fanboy won + weekly idol mc reader (i never watch weekly idol so have music bank instead..) and im scared of writing idol x fangirl entirely so have this spinoff! | library

- you and jungwon have been friends for a while even before he went on i-land

- he’s always been into performing, singing, and especially dancing

- sometimes you’d stay behind at school and watch him do taekwondo + dancing

- and while he was student body president, you were the president of broadcasting too!

- you loved to talk to others and be in front of a camera and also wanted to make your own padcast, but never really knew how

- so you two were definitely in communication because of your positions!

- and… drum roll please… jungwon gets a little crush on you

- let’s just say he started thinking about you whenever you started morning broadcast for the school… or when you announced his name and his plans as student body president he went all blush-y

- he thought you were super cool and loved how effortless you were in front of everyone

- like time slows down when he looks at you, his eyes go glittery everyone else disappears..

- HES WHIPPED I FEAR!!!

more under the cut :3

- you two hung out a lot afterschool and sometimes at each others houses, but you also had other friends- friends who would also become idols!!

- you’re friends with chaewon and ningning hehe

- so now that highschools kind of ending, a lot of your friends started seriously pursuing music and the idol life, but you were never quite as devoted as they were

- and unfortunately by senior year, jungwon left for i-land :(

- you tried to be close but they didn’t allow outside communication and summer left you extremely busy

- and you were really sad that you couldn’t hang out with jungwon as much, but you still had other friends and were close to many from your school because of how big your journalism class was (aka where you did your broadcasting duties)

- but watching iland was your pasttime!! you voted jungwon EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. because you knew how much work went into his skills

- and who even cares if it was biased everyone was biased in their voting

- and you loved the drama and all his other members (but god it was heartbreaking and when jungwon stood on that second to elimination stage you cried)

- when enhypen debuted, you stayed a fan not just because of jungwon, but because of his interactions and their music

- enhypen was popular from the get-go because of iland, and you paid attention to their comebacks and texted jungwon every so often

- you two weren’t able to meet because of his busy tour schedule and back to back combacks (FREE MY BOYS)

- but you always supported them wherever whenever, and even trying to get concert tickets to attend whenever they were in your area

- plus you were still a broke college student and busy with your own interests

- but it didn’t stop you from consuming their content

- and if something happened you’d text jungwon, not really expecting a text back since he was so busy, but he’d always try to respond

- “omg not your cactus dying???” and he’d respond with some laughing

- “maeumi is so big now i saw her on your live on your arm” “STOP IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING”

- little things here and there

- and maybe yes… you were a little fangirl…

- ALBUM PULLS WERE HALF JUNGWON SOME SUNOO SOME HEESEUNG BTW!!! you were eating up your pc album

- and you’d always compliment him after a comeback or a show you went to

- “ahh! tamed-dashed is so good i think my fav song from your album is just a little bit! make sure you rest so your pictures turn out cute :)”

- OK BUT THE MOMENT YOU TRULY FELL FOR HIM like actually a ‘wtf omg why is yang jungwon so HOT why do i have a MASSIVE CRUSH ON HIM (again)”

- was…drum roll…l’officiel jungwon with only the blazer and then dicon tw-en-ty years jungwon with the cherry photoshoot (not projecting LOL haha…)

- yeah you were whipped

- but ofc you didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, trying to keep your comments supportive more than fangirl-y

- you and jungwon finally have time to catch up when he’s back home for a bit, and he texts you more often since you were still somewhat busy with school

- and you two reminisce on how he wanted to be an idol pre-iland and how you love to talk on the radio which he’s listened to a few times!!! (yapper y/n agenda!!!)

- and you still loved to do broadcasting even in university

- you were on a few broadcast groups and was a temporary university podcast host for studying encouragement and you shared your struggles as an incoming upperclassman

- many people listened for the tips and fun story submissions to listen to while studying!

- and you’d look for jobs and hoped to find a larger podcast or station

- so much so that you auditioned and reached out to a popular radio show host about love and dating advice called ’Let’s Find You Love!’

- and your station was SUPER popular considering how sweet and sincere your advice was

- you were honest with viewers in toxic relationships and also got popular online

- special valentines day episode! you and your host shared stories about YOUR first crush and love experiences

- your host shared some bad relationships and what not to do! but you…?? you had a crush on yang jungwon. still. ofc he looked good!!!

- “to be honest, there was this boy in highschool who i liked, and i wish i got to ask him out, honestly. he was super sweet every time we talked, and he was always so hardworking.” and with the way you said it, the people who knew you from school couldn’t deduce if it was someone close to you or someone who you pined over from a distance

- agh the mystery!! everyone is hooked on your cute story, telling you to admit your crush to him!

- BUT HELLO?? ITS LEADER OF ENHYPEN JUNGWON YOU CANT DO THAT!!!

- tiktok frl went ‘damn i want someone to talk about me the way y/n from lets find u love talked about her crush’

- but it became a HUGE hit

- so much so that music bank reached out and WOAHHH

- they want you?? as??? an??? mc????

- usually they would pick idols, but the idol that did their music bank performance had an injury, and you were doing it alone since music bank didn’t want to start rumors!

- and woah.. enhypen new comback had you on your KNEES

- plus listening to jungwon is always so satisfying, especially to see him grow and explore different concepts and looks, you were not only loving the face cards being served but also his energy and love for his fans!!

- so yeah, safe to say your feelings for him were still there..

- but then they perform on music bank for xo, and you’re…THERE???

- jungwon’s looking at you, who’s looking super pretty as you rehearse your lines and the stylists are adding to your look before the show

- and he turns to his members like dude.

- and all of them are confused like ?? “jungwon what’s wrong..”

- “DUDE MY CHILDHOOD FRIEND IS HERE AS THE MC AND SHE’S SO PRETTY”

- thankfully camera crew was on break..but when they were back

- yeah fans were defo in their comments like “woah why is jungwonnie so nervous??” literally who’s gonna tell them the girl he hasn’t seen in like 6 years is in front of him pretty like how he remembers??

- and you kind of wanted to surprise jungwon by not telling him, but you also never had the time to speak up with all the media training you needed

- everyone was excited for you to be mc! it was a change of pace but a fun one for the audience

- welp it’s go time!!

- “hello everyone!! woah.. is it time for..my dating advice segment? nono! i’m here as…” you pretend to open a letter and look around “music bank’s emcee?? wow, such an honor!!” and ofc you turn on the dramatics to act

- and what group to walk in but enhypen…

- jungwon smiles IMMEDIATELY. fans analyzed this whole video

- ‘dude jungwon is WHIPPED for that mc’ ‘jungwon when he meets the pretty mc” “so we’re all seeing jungwon check out the girl on music bank or…”

- you had your own little script related to their new concept, asking a few questions and then moving onto a member specific question

- “jungwonnie! i noticed you wrote the part for hundred broken hearts! can we have you sing it?”

- THING IS…who says ‘jungwonnie’ so freely?? if you guys never met?? yeah speculation was running a little out of hand fr!

Jungwon shakes his head, dimples reappearing as he takes another look at you and nods. He sings his written part into the mic, and unknowingly, you smile too. “Ah- sorry, I’m too nervous to be singing it well.” And you scoff at him, looking around at his members. “He did it great, don’t you agree, Jake? Your voice is like an angel.” You call out to Jake, who originally sings that part.

Jake tells you, “Agh, he might steal my fans if he decides to sing that part live” and you laugh, eyes crinkling as you smile at Jake’s response to move onto the next question.

- and jungwon in that moment remembers why he liked you

- your laugh, your smile, your easy-going nature, and how much you had chased for your passions over the years

- and he’s just super super proud of you for where you are now, being a literal mc

- and he knows you love doing it

- after a bit more talking they went to perform and you went back!

- he’s super nervous after their performance and the members tease him for his little crush saying how he’d get a girlfriend before all of them

- oh yeah engenes were raving abt u

- “jungwonie’ and he doesn’t even look uncomfortable they must be friends”

- it takes a few internet detectives to figure out that it’s him who used to go to school with you and it’s him who you had a huge crush on woahhh

- and then jungwon found out.

- “y/n!! look at this tiktok lolol” “jungwon why is it titled ‘y/nwon confirmed with evidence’”“it’s funny >.<“

- ur freaking out like crazy

- cuz wdym jungwon SAW IT AND FOUND IT FUNNY

- so you’re like “haha yeah so funny…anyways wyd if it’s true.”

- and he’s like freaking out on his end like omfg is it true omg does she know “idk walk over and cuddle and kiss” HE BOLD!!

- anyways ygs do just that!! sooo cute and you two are very very secretive

- until…drum roll pls..one year after the initial valentines day episode on your podcast aka 7 months after you started dating jungwon

- and he’s waiting in your living room with all of your gifts but you have no idea since you’re recording live in your studio

- “for this valentines day episode i had people submit some cute love stories! and yes i will share one of my own”

- and you read all of them and laugh at the cute stories about love because yes love we love love!

- “the moment you were waiting for! so, little one year update, but i listened to you all and the boy i liked in highschool is now my boyfriend and we’ve been together 7 months!”

- yeah the internet freaked out

- because the timeline from xo comeback to valentines day makes sense for the engenes who knew

- but ygs are so cute so who’s complaining

reblogs + interactions are always appreciated :)

[2-dsimp]

omg zombie?? Rotting companion when?? I wonder if he's the slow type or the "I may be decomposing but I can sprint at a full 20 km/h" kind of guy

I luv zombiesss

-andwy tiddy hater

Cw: Heavy angst, obsessive/possessive tendencies, your boyfriend turning into a lovelorn zombie.

Synopsis: Soma, your boyfriend, happened to be the number one gamer in the world due to the fact that nobody could beat him at video games. Nobody except for his Lovely player two who he absolutely adores. One day during a zombie mob flash he sacrificed himself and got bitten in your stead so that you may live another day. Now as time passed, he was set to roam the streets as an undead zombie. Waiting to see you again to ensure that he won’t ever let the both of you be separated again. Not over his half dead body.

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

Soma, your boyfriend, is always so eccentric but sweet at the same time. He’d always make sure to mark down your important days on his calendar just to make sure he never misses a moment in his darling’s life. Which is everyday, from the moment you wake up down to the moment you close your eyes goodnight.

The Pro Gamers journal is filled with borderline obsessive scribbles of him recording the way that you sleep. And listing a bunch of observations about how adorable you looked curled up or sprawled out like a starfish. Not only that he takes the time to analyze and document every bit of your habits as if you he’s a biologist and you happened to be his precious specimen.

Either way no matter if you’re asleep or awake his hands won’t grow tired of drawing portraits of you. Within his sketchbook he used as an excuse to highlight gaming mechanics to his team. He’s pretty freighting when it comes to it, if you ask anyone on his team. They’d tell you to not even try and reach out towards it for a better look, since you get an automatic knee to the face.

“Oh my bad didn’t ya say that you wanted a close up of my combo breaker? Hmm? Not in irl? Well you Shoulda been more specific my guy”

Fast forward a few months, It all happened so suddenly when your part of town got hit with an unknown anomaly from a parasitic animal. That escaped from Devildom into the human realm. Successfully kickstarting a disease which made those who aren’t familiar with its origins. To fall into a frenzied state of loss consciousness and inability to control of one’s body.

During the earliest stages of the infection that spreading through your quaint city. Which was thankfully isolated from the rest to prevent even more of an outbreak. You were on a date with your boyfriend who was such a advocate for being spontaneous. Soma loved to surprise you with fun outings like going to amusement parks, para gliding, bungee jumping, kayaking, you name it.

But this time he wanted to give you a breather and take you on a lowkey cute date at a nearby cafe. Soma had an arm around your hip squeezing it lightly while he leaned against you like an over grown puppy.

“Lovie I’m so lucky to have you~ I don’t ever wanna live a day without being able to hold you, love you, kiss you, n fu—“

“Oh we’re here already! You excited to try out those cute menu items you’ve been fangirling about hun?”

Your boyfriend exclaimed giddily oftentimes having a habit of rambling on about how much he adores you on a daily basis. He went to open the door for you right after pressing a hungry kiss to your lips. It was something he always did before he had to leave your side even for just a brief moment.

Since he was paranoid in the fact that anything could happen to his cherished relationship with you. And he’d rather not it happen without him kissing you one last time.

You guys had just entered the door only to be met with a the rabid eyes and foaming mouths of the former patrons that dined there. It wasn’t any help that this cafe was jammed packed due to their popularity so it’d only take a split second for you to get snatched up by one of the infected standing in line.

You could barely register the way you were shoved out of the store by your boyfriend in an attempt to guard you from being taken by the horde. You stumbled outside the glass doors eyes wide with shock as you witnessed. A different side of Soma that you’ve never seen before, one that had him going batshit crazy.

Seeing how those filthy hands tried to take you away from him. Had him going off on a tangent about how he’d kill them twice over, for even trying to touch a single hair on your head. Claiming how you were his and his only and that nothing on heaven nor earth would change it.

Despite being outnumbered he put up one hell of a fight knocking the parasites down one by one into eventually one of them took a chance to bit his fist that he used to sucker punch their teeth out.

“Man you guys sure are tenacious for a bunch of deadweight…Shit just my luck”

Soma sighed, as if it was only a minor convenience that he’d gotten bitten. But nonetheless he kept letting his fist and legs fly not stopping until every single undead bastard was on the ground. Thanks to his self defense classes in karate.

It was only a matter of time before they got back up again so he turned around to give you a relaxed expression. A bright loving grin on his face as he asked you a simple question. While his veins became more prominent on his skin appearing in an abnormal pigment.

“Would you still love me as a zombie babes?”

You could only sob saying yes frantically as you watched your loved one turn into a different being. At your answer he let out a flippant sigh of relief before continuing to lock himself inside the restaurant. Using the key that was hanging off the hip of an employee he stunned.

“Good, then you’d better watch your back since whether im dead or alive I’d still be crazy in love with you baby.”

The gamer said in a soft tone that had a darkened edge to it, almost as if he wasn’t just trying to lighten up the mood with one of his lighthearted quips. But was issuing you an actual warning to beware of if you ever came across him while he wasn’t in control of himself.

Now go, your eyes should see only good things. And I’m afraid it’s gonna be ugly for me, Ah wait! Before you go…Give me kiss?”

Soma asked with a boyish grin pressing his face against the glass door with his lips puckered. As he waggled his eyebrows at you. It made you pissed off to say the least at how he was treating this a some kind of joke.

But you couldn’t help but notice his body twitching sporadically which was a telltale sign of how anxious he was. How scared he was of losing you. And how terrifying he’d be once he turned knowing that there’d be nothing to hold him back from showing his purest form of love for you.

Your boyfriend was already internally battling the urge to pull you against him. So you’d never leave his sight, that you two would be together forever regardless of death since nothing could ever change the way his heart beats purely for you. So just one more kiss, no matter if There’s a thin glass barrier, he just wants to be close to you, to somewhat feel you before his body shuts down on him.

You scrambled to press yourself against the door your palm on top of his. You gave him one last longing gaze, beforehand pressing your lips against the glass. Not noticing how he was just unblinkingly staring at your reflection. Burning the image of you so deeply into his mind that even if his critical thinking perished he’d never ever forget you even in death.

You were hesitant to leave him wanting to stay until his final hours but he childishly shooed you away. Claiming that he doesn’t want you to see him become an uggo version of himself. Since glowing down in front of his beau would be immensely embarrassing. He couldn’t help but feel a cruel twist of satisfaction seeing your reluctance to leave his side and those pretty eyes of yours welling up with tears meant only for him.

“We’ll meet again soon Lovie, mark my words, if you think I’d ever leave you alone then you’ve got another thing coming… So make sure to do your best until I come to make you mine once more permanently”

A few days later, the infection took hold of him but not in a way he was expecting. Sure he may have lost some of his humanity, but for a strange reason. The pro gamer still retained some fragments of his consciousness. His head was pounding from your name, invading his headspace. With every pulse of his brain that was fried at the moment.

Soma chuffed with a crooked grin, as he suspected not even death would take away his inherent need for you. Nor could it ever make it cease to be. He had to find you, sure it was selfish but he can’t stop from obsessing over your very being ingrained in his hazy memory. Where only the images of you were clear as can be.

Breaking the lock with his newly found inhuman strength, he became a half mindless zombie. Who actively searches for his you like a moth to a flame. Tearing everything and anything apart that stands in his way.

☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:*☆ ☆*:.｡..｡.:

A/n: if you want to see more of your undead boyfriend feel free to send in an ask 👀

[kwanisms]

Monsoon Season — y.jeongin

» stray kids masterlist «

➮ kumiho!Jeongin × f!Reader

wc: 17.4k (all of these are gonna be at least 10k so prepare yourselves for that lol)

summary: Jeongin has always been a bit of an outcast in his village being half fox demon (kumiho) until a kind stranger takes him in during a monsoon and gives him more than a place to stay for a few days.

genres/themes/au: angst, smut; supernatural and demonic themes, historic themes, s2l; non idol au, demon au, historical au (kinda)

warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, Jeongin is bullied heavily, physical violence, a building is burned down, Jeongin gets hit over the head with a branch by the reader, sexual content (18+ mdni), see smut warnings under the cut!

special taglist: @yoonguurt , @anyamaris , @wooyoungqueen , @kpop-stories-21 , @xsweetelegantdiasterx , @kookthief , @stardragongalaxy , @millennial-fangirl , @blankdyean , @imwithurmother , @bangchans-angel , @oreoqueen , @yjeonginlvr , @zdgx1 , @shuxsoo , @s00buwu , @queenmea604 , @pochaccomin , @katsukis1wife , @linos-catnip

Join the taglist! »» Closes 10/30 @ 23:00 CST!

Strikethrough means I cannot tag you.

MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

AGELESS BLOGS WILL NOT BE ADDED.

a/n: I'm a sucker for Jeongin in general so there's that. He needs more content and I'm happy to provide that. Anitta is just a codename used by Jeongin's mother. it'll make more sense later what I'm talking about. it's a surprise, shhhhh! Thank you for reading and if you liked this, please reblog or comment! Also consider supporting my work through my kofi (link is in my pinned post). As always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only.

smut warnings: teratophilia (aka monsterfucking), unprotected sex (it’s a period piece and I’m not looking up ancient contraceptive techniques lol just use protection) first time sex, degradation (m receiving), begging, corruption kink, virgin!Jeongin, use of pet names (baby boy, sweetheart, little fox, etc), Jeongin is a subby whiny baby. Take it or leave it. If I missed anything, just let me know!

dialogue prompt: ❛ Have you never been touched like this before? ❜

═══════════════════════════════════════════════════════

To a kid, the word orphan is often used as an insult from other kids. Jeongin was lucky that he never had to hear that word until he was much older. He was just shy of fifteen years when his father died from pneumonia. Old enough to be considered a man but Jeongin didn’t feel like a man.

He felt like a lost little boy who just lost his father.

His mother had left not long after Jeongin’s birth. His father had tried his best to explain to Jeongin how his mother didn’t love him any less. She just had a different way of doing things. She had things she had to do, tasks to see to and couldn’t take a newborn with her.

That was the nature of a kumiho. Others called her flighty, said she abandoned him but Jeongin knew better. He had her journals, gifted to him on his fifteenth birthday by his father on instruction from his mother. Jeongin had spent his free time reading those journals, getting to know his mother through her words. It was a surreal experience for him.

His father couldn’t tell Jeongin much about his mother other than that she was incredibly cunning, kind, and compassionate. He also spoke of her beauty. Jeongin had never seen a portrait of his mother and had no idea what she looked like.

“I see her in you,” his father often told him. “You have her eyes and her hair.”

Jeongin took solace in the fact that he resembled his mother. It was comforting in a way.

When Jeongin was finally thrust upon the cruel world at a young age, he had luckily learned enough skills from his father to survive. He knew how to hunt small game and fish. He grew a simple garden that was enough for one when he harvested it. He had spent time foraging with his father and knew his way around the forest’s shrubbery and other plants.

He knew which ones were food, which ones healed, and which ones killed.

Jeongin was able to raise himself, growing into a man of limited means and he kept to himself except when he needed to head to the village to trade his furs for other things he could not provide for himself, like clothing. He’d never learned how to sew as he had no mother to teach him and his father also didn’t know how.

So another morning was spent gathering the furs he’d chosen to sell, setting them aside for the ones he wanted to keep. And he packed some food for his trip to the village. His walk through the woods was always quite so early in the morning. The sounds of the forest waking up, birds calling out to say good morning as the sky lightened from deep indigo to a light periwinkle, the sun creeping over the horizon.

The first rays of sunshine had started to break through the trees as Jeongin reached the village which was also bustling, everyone having gotten up around the same time as he. He ignored the stares as he walked through the village towards the market, readjusting his bag as he trodden on.

He could hear murmurs and whispers as he passed but chose to ignore them. Sure, he perhaps didn’t stick out as much as a full blooded fox folk might, but his blond fox ears, hair, and orange eyes gave him away immediately. Folk around these parts didn’t normally sport such a contrasting hair color.

Jeongin’s father had told him he took after his mother after all.

Upon reaching the market, Jeongin looked around, surveying his surroundings and looking for the lady his father had always purchased clothing from. He spotted her and made a beeline as she was folding garments, setting them down on the wooden stall before her.

“Morning,” Jeongin heard her grumble. Unlike the rest of the villagers, this woman had always been kind to him as he accompanied his father, sneaking him sweets and other homemade candies when his father wasn’t looking. The caramels were his favorites.

“Morning,” Jeongin parroted as he looked over the linen tunics. His was starting to fit a little too snugly and the threads were wearing out. His pants would last him another winter at least. As he was looking over the tunics, he heard a voice as sweet as honey call out.

“Granny, I can’t find the skirts!”

Jeongin looked up in time to see probably the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen in his life appear before him. He stared, awestruck as she walked over to the old woman. She had waist length black hair that fell in soft waves down her back, half of it pulled back and secured with a comb. Her eyes were a chocolate brown, much different than the dark brown or black he’d grown accustomed to.

She was petite, smaller than he was, with a slender frame and a pale complexion. She met his gaze and Jeongin felt as if the world stopped moving. Everything around him seemed to slow, almost as if time was stopping. The sounds around him drowned out as he stared back into those brown eyes.

Her pale, pink lips pulled into a shy smile before she averted her eyes to look at her grandmother. “They’re in the chest, not the sacks, dear,” the old woman replied and waved her hands. “I’ll get them,” she said, brushing past the girl and around the cart.

The girl looked after her grandmother before stepping towards the stall. Jeongin managed to snap himself out of his trance and had looked down to resume inspecting the tunics. “This would look nice on you,” the girl said, brushing her fingers over a black tunic.

Jeongin glanced up, meeting her gaze and quickly looked away as did she. He noticed the blush that crept over her cheeks. “I’ve never seen you before,” she suddenly said, smiling as Jeongin looked up. “Are you new to the village?” Jeongin opened his mouth to answer but was interrupted.

“He lives in the forest,” the grandmother said as she returned, arms loaded with fabric that she dumped onto the stack of boxes next to her. “This is my granddaughter, Haneul,” the old woman said as she started to fold the skirts and place them on the wooden surface of the stall.

Haneul turned to look back at Jeongin. “What’s your name?” she asked. Jeongin was caught off guard and forgot to answer, instead just smiling and nodding at Haneul. She giggled as he realized his error, shaking his head before answering awkwardly. “Uh, I’m Jeongin.”

As the old woman folded the skirts, Haneul reached into a small pouch on her hip, glancing at her grandmother before pulling her hand out and quickly handing something to Jeongin when her grandmother wasn’t watching. Jeongin glanced down at his hand and felt heat spread to his cheeks.

Sitting in his palm were three wrapped caramel candies. The ones the old woman used to give him. He smiled, tucking them away in his bag before clearing his throat. “I need some shirts,” he announced. “Very well,” the old woman said. “What do you have to trade?”

Jeongin ended up trading one of his tanuki furs for three shirts, two light colored linen ones and one black one. He also managed to trade three of his rabbit furs for a new tool set. As he thanked the blacksmith he turned around and bumped into a body.

“I’m so sorry,” he apologized profusely, bowing quickly. The woman he’d bumped into patted him on the shoulder and went about her business. Jeongin was about to turn away when he caught Haneul watching him, an amused smile on her face. When their eyes met, Jeongin felt another rush of heat over his cheeks and waved to Haneul who returned the gesture.

Before Jeongin could turn and start making his way home, he felt an arm hook over the back of his neck, draping across his shoulders. “Well, well, well,” said an all-too-familiar voice. “Look what the dog has dragged back to the village!”

The comment was met with a cacophony of laughter as Jeongin held his tongue.

“Hello to you too, Baek-hwa,” he said monotonously. He glanced up at the taller man, noticing he was now surrounded. Baek-hwa’s friends were staring him down and Jeongin felt like this wasn’t going to end well. He felt Baek-hwa’s arm tighten around the back of his neck.

“What are you doing here, thief, I thought I told you to stay away from the village,” Baek-hwa said under his breath so only Jeongin heard him. “I’m not a thief, Baek-hwa,” Jeongin replied softly. “I just came to get some things and I’ll be going back home now. You won’t have to see me again for a long time.”

Baek-hwa clicked his tongue and shook his head. “You really should have stayed away.”

It didn’t take long for Baek-hwa and his friends to drag Jeongin away from the market and behind a hut before they started laying into him. His bag was torn from his grip and tossed aside as they landed blow after blow on him. Jeongin had learned from a young age that if he avoided trouble, he’d be okay but he knew that wasn’t always the case. Regardless if he stayed out of trouble, it always managed to find him.

He leaned against the wall, doubled over in pain as Baek-hwa’s friends goaded him on. “Kick his ass!” one laughed. Jeongin glanced at where his bag sat and then looked up. His assailants were too busy egging their leader on. He had a small window. Mustering his strength and taking a deep breath, Jeongin pushed off the wall, knocking over one of his attackers.

He snatched his bag and took off as they shouted after him. He may not be as strong as they were, but he was definitely faster. He was more agile having spent all his life living in the forest. They had no hope of catching him once he made it into the treeline.

Jeongin didn’t stop as he vaulted over fallen logs and through the underbrush. He made sure to loop around the long way to lose his pursuers if they were even still following him. He didn’t want to take the chance that they would follow him home and come knocking.

It was midday by the time Jeongin finally reached the front door of his father’s cabin, pushing aside the curtain that hung there and stepping over the threshold. He set his bag down and moved to peer out the window. He saw no sign of life and let the curtain fall back in place before he went about his business.

His father had been in charge of keeping up the home but without his help, the cabin was slowly falling apart and Jeongin didn’t know much about building. There were poorly made patches in the roof that barely kept out the rain and more than once, parts of the roof had collapsed. Jeongin did his best to make it work as he had nowhere else to go.

He was sitting by the fire, heating up some stew he’d made the previous night when he heard it.

A distant crash of thunder. Looking up from the fire, he let out a sigh and glanced up at the roof.

“Just hold out for tonight, please,” he begged the thatched hay. “Just one more night.”

The storm blew in quickly after that, dark, thick storm clouds obscuring the sun and bringing with it heavy rains and strong gusts of wind that whipped around the small cabin, making the walls shake and blowing through the cracks Jeongin hadn’t managed to seal properly.

Several times, he was afraid that the roof was going to collapse or a wall was going to cave in and then the entire cabin would crumble around him, trapping him inside.

Rainwater leaked through the shoddy patching, drenching almost everything under it. Jeongin huddled up in the corner as his furniture and almost everything was soaked. The only thing that saved him was the built-in table in the corner.

He had dragged most of his bedding from the bed to the corner, curling up in the only fortified, safe, and dry place in the cabin. It was here that he fell asleep, curled up with his blankets and pillow as well as his bag and the small box his father had left him. The only important possessions in his life.

The storm raged all night and finally blew itself out by dawn, the dark storm clouds retracting as the sun rose, almost as if shooing them away. Jeongin woke as the sun was climbing and crawled out of his cubby, inspecting the damage. His plea to the roof had saved him. The thatching had held up for the most part but it would have to be replaced. Jeongin wasn’t sure who he could even ask.

He headed outside to inspect his garden and was pleased to see that the garden remained safe and untouched as he picked up a few twigs that had blown in and tossed them away. His firewood stores were also surprisingly dry with only the top layer soaked from the rains.

All in all, he’d managed to survive another monsoon storm. As he was cleaning up stray leaves and small branches, Jeongin heard voices and looked up, his stomach dropping as he spotted Baek-hwa and his friends. ‘No,’ he thought. He looked around and darted inside the cabin, starting to grab things, placing them inside his bag as the voices grew louder and louder outside.

“Come on out, thief, we know you’re in there!” came Baek-hwa’s voice. Jeongin swore under his breath, filling his bag with as much as he could but he knew he wouldn’t have time to leave out the front door. He’d be spotted and then they’d follow.

He dropped the bag by the back window before exiting the cabin to face his tormentors. If he was lucky, they’d just beat him up and leave quickly and then he could leave. He didn’t know where he’d go but now that they knew where his home was, they would be back.

“There he is,” Baek-hwa said as he stopped, leaning against the fence Jeongin’s father had built to keep their small homestead separate from the forest around them. “The thief shows his face.”

Jeongin’s fingers curled in against his palms. “I’m not a thief,” he said, a little more forceful than he intended. “Stop calling me that.” The smirk on Baek-hwa’s face dropped instantly. “You raising your voice at me?” he asked, his tone low and dangerously so.

“You think you can just raise your voice and talk back to me and I’ll let it slide?”

Jeongin held his ground. This was his home after all. “We’re outside the village,” Jeongin replied. “I don’t have to listen to you anymore, Baek-hwa.”

The man laughed, looking around at his friends. “This is my world, Jeongin,” he said, actually saying the blond fox folk’s name. “You’re just living in it.”

Jeongin forced a smile. “No it’s not,” he answered, shocking Baek-hwa. Never before has Jeongin acted so defiantly but like Jeongin said, they weren’t in the village. Jeongin wasn’t afraid of them out here. Sure he was dangerously outnumbered but he didn’t have to worry about causing the village trouble out here.

“I’ve had enough of your smart mouth,” Baek-hwa said before nudging the friend standing beside him. “Teach him a lesson, Jae-song.”

The man next to him climbed the fence, landing in the garden and stared Jeongin down before advancing slowly through the small rows of vegetables, making sure to stomp on them as he strode towards Jeongin. “I’m gonna make you wish you’d never been born,” he spat, bringing his fists up.

Jeongin didn’t move, standing stoically as he stared back at Jae-song. “Beat you to pulp and leave you for the scavengers,” he added. Jeongin narrowed his eyes. “Your parents must be so proud,” the smaller man retorted, catching Jae-song off guard before Jeongin tilted his head. “Oh wait…” he said with a scoff. “They’re dead.”

Jae-song gritted his teeth and swung at Jeongin who dodged the blow easily. “Picking on smaller people and beating them up for the fun of it. What would your mother think?”

Jae-song let out an angry yell. “Shut the hell up!” he swung again but Jeongin managed to dodge it again, this time pushing Jae-song forward, using the bully’s momentum to send him running face first into the side of the cabin.

“And stay down,” Jeongin added as Jae-song fell to the ground, holding his nose and writhing in pain. “I’m getting sick of this,” Baek-hwa said loudly. “Grab him.”

Jeongin turned as two more of Baek-hwa’s friends hopped the fence and advanced toward him, also kicking and stomping on the vegetable beds as they went. “Two against one?” Jeongin asked, raising a brow. “How noble of you. Or is it pathetic that you need help to take me on?”

Jeongin ducked as two separate fists swung at him before kicking out, knocking one of the assailants down and rolling out of the way as the other aimed a kick at him. Jeongin was back on his feet as the one who tried to kick him, came lumbering forward. As he was about to take another swing, Jeongin dodged around him, kicking him in the backside and sending him toppling over the fence.

“Enough!” Baek-hwa said, climbing the fence himself. “I grow weary of this,” he continued, advancing in Jeongin, stalking forward like a panther stalking its prey. Jeongin kept his eye not only on Baek-hwa but also on his friends who seemed like they were going to sit this one out.

“You sound like some kind of villain, talking like that,” Jeongin noted with a laugh. “I grow weary of your games,” Jeongin mocked, turning as Baek-hwa circled him slowly. “I’m going to end you,” Baek-hwa growled angrily. Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Again with the villain talk. Come on already,” Jeongin said exasperatedly.

Baek-hwa leaned into his punch as he threw his fist forward. Jeongin managed to block the attack before counter attacking with a blow of his own to Baek-hwa’s side. “You little shit,” Baek-hwa grunted, reaching for Jeongin who dodged again, pushing Baek-hwa’s hands aside.

The taller man tried again, aiming a punch that Jeongin deflected before hitting Baek-hwa in the throat with his palm. Immediately Baek-hwa backed off, choking from the sudden impact. “Go home,” Jeongin said as he watched Baek-hwa stumble backwards. “Next time you won’t be so lucky.”

As the men helped each other up and staggered out of his garden, Jeongin heard Baek-hwa’s strained voice call out. “We’ll be back, thief. Watch your back!”

Jeongin watched as they disappeared in the forest and breathed a sigh of relief. Never before had he stood his ground against his tormentors. He was grateful for the few self defense lessons his father had given him before he passed.

Jeongin looked down at his mangled vegetable beds and sighed. He would have to go foraging and salvage what he could. He needed to pack up everything and leave tonight. He knew Baek-hwa and his friends would be back.

He entered the cabin, grabbing a basket and heading out into the forest. There was a berry patch not far from his cabin but the terrain made it a longer task of traversing to it. Once there, Jeongin started to gather some of the berries. There he also found wild carrots, chives, cabbage, and potatoes. He gathered what he deemed necessary for tonight as well as some for his trip and started to make his way back.

The sun was starting to set when he reached his cabin and he felt his heart sink and his stomach drop. Baek-hwa and his friends had returned but this time he was really outnumbered. He had half a mind to sneak around to the back of the cabin and grab his bag without being seen but just his luck, one of them turned and spotted him. 

Before he could turn and run, he was grabbed from behind by two sets of hands, the basket knocked from his grip, and dragged over to where Baek-hwa stood. “Not so tough now,” Baek-hwa sneered. Jeongin looked around at the ten or so men Baek-hwa had brought with him. 

“Judging by your entourage, I’d say you aren’t very tough either,” he quipped.

For his comment, Baek-hwa landed a blow, punching Jeongin hard in the stomach and causing him to double over in pain. “That’s for earlier,” he snapped before looking towards one of his friends and nodding. Jeongin looked up in time to see one of the men he’d fought earlier holding a torch. His eyes widened in horror.

“No,” he said, struggling against the two holding him. “Stop!” he shouted as the one with the torch lit the garden on fire before moving towards the cabin. “Stop, please!” Jeongin shouted and continued to struggle. “Everything I own is in there! You can’t do this!”

Baek-hwa smiled smugly as Jeongin’s father’s cabin was set ablaze. “Actually, I can,” Baek-hwa said.

As the cabin caught fire and the flames spread, Baek-hwa stepped back allowing the others to take turns punching and kicking Jeongin. “S-stop,” Jeongin coughed. “Please.”

Baek-hwa laughed cruelly. “That’s what thieves get,” he said as Jeongin collapsed to his knees, only being held up by the two beside him. Jeongin weakly watched as the flames engulfed his home and burned presumably everything inside. Everything was gone. The cabin, the roof, his furniture, his stores… his eyes widened. 

His mothers journals. 

‘No,’ he thought as he stared at the fire.

He hadn’t finished reading them all.

Jeongin struggled against his captors. They held onto him tightly as Baek-hwa watched the inferno with a smirk. With a strength he’d never experienced before, Jeongin managed to pull free from his captors, delivering a punch to each before tackling Baek-hwa to the ground.

His actions were so sudden that everyone was caught off guard as Jeongin grabbed Baek-hwa’s head and slammed it against the ground, dazing the man before he scrambled off him and pushed through the hands that tried to grab at him. He burst into the flaming inferno, shielding his eyes as he looked around. His bag by the window sat untouched.

Before grabbing it, Jeongin darted under the table, tearing through the blankets until he found the bag with his mothers journals. He grabbed it and got up, eyes landing on the trinket box his father had made sitting on the mantle of the fireplace. Jeongin dashed across the room to grab it, stuffing it into the bag with the journals before he moved to the back window, grabbing the bag and heaving it over his shoulder.

Tossed both bags out the window before climbing through. Grabbing the bags, he took off into the forest as the fire consumed his home, the roof finally collapsing. Jeongin turned to look back at the raging inferno as he slung the bags over his back. ‘No going back now,’ he told himself as he watched the flames dance before turning away from the sight and heading further into the woods.

He’d never been this deep before. Glancing skyward, he could see clouds were obscuring the stars and he could only assume another storm was brewing. He made his way through the forest, making his way down embankments and crossing streams as he continued deeper than he’d ever ventured before.

As he stopped to catch his breath, he could hear voices in the distance.

“I think he went this way!” 

Jeongin’s eyes widened. Baek-hwa and his friends had followed him?! Looking around, he saw a small opening under a tree sitting atop the embankment he was currently at the bottom of. He scrambled up, making his way over and peered inside. He couldn’t see much but hoped for the best as he removed his bags and stuffed them through the opening before pulling himself up using the roots of the tree.

He slid into the opening feet first and wiggled into the space. It seemed to be some sort of den. Most likely abandoned but he didn’t dwell on it, instead kept himself hidden as he peered out into the forest. He heard footsteps overhead and ducked back into the safety of the small cave waiting for the pounding of his heart to subside.

He waited as the sounds of feet and voices continued around him. “Did you see which way he went?”

“No.”

“Maybe he’s hiding nearby.”

“Well we’ll never see him in the dark.”

“Maybe we should come back when it’s light out.”

“Enough,” a voice Jeongin recognized to be Baek-hwa’s snapped. “He couldn’t have gotten far,” he continued. “Spread out and find him.”

“How?” another voice asked. “With what light?” Jeongin guessed this voice to be Jae-song’s. It sounded like him anyway. “Here,” another voice said and Jeongin saw light flicker and dance outside the opening of his hiding place. Glancing back, he could barely see that this was indeed a den. He grabbed his things and scooted back further, hoping to stay out of sight.

He waited, listening patiently as footsteps trudged through the forest, twigs snapping underfoot.

He carefully crawled toward the opening and peered out. He could see two of the men standing nearby as they searched the area. “Find anything?” one of them called. “Nothing yet!” another voice called back. “This is so stupid,” one of the men said softly. “There’s no telling which way he went.”

The one that had spoken up before nodded in agreement. “I know,” he answered just as quietly. “But you know how Baek-hwa is. Ever since he saw Jeongin talking to Haneul, he’s just been set on making Jeongin suffer,” he added as he held his torch up, peering around a tree.

“I mean, it’s not like doing all this is going to impress Haneul,” he continued. “She doesn’t even like Baek-hwa.” The second man nodded as well. “I know! It’s like--”

What it was like, Jeongin didn’t get to hear as he watched a shadow cut across the small illuminated circle, passing both men. The second smaller one let out a grunt of pain and Jeongin watched in horror as blood spilled from his mouth, a look of pain crossing his features as he fell to his knees.

“Wonjae!” the first man said in shock as his friend collapsed, blood gurgling from his mouth. “What happened?” Jeongin watched as the shadow passed again, quick as lightning, passing the first guy who let out a choked cry of pain before falling to his knees as well, blood seeping through his shirt and he fell to the ground. Jeongin froze realizing he’d just watched something kill those two men.

‘What the hell?’

“Where are they?” called a voice, drowning out Jeongin’s thoughts. “Over here! Dabin! Wonjae!”

Jeongin watched as two more men entered his field of vision. “Are they okay?” one of them said as the other knelt down to check the bodies of their friends. “They’re… dead,” he said, his voice shaky. “D-dead?” the other stammered, taking a few steps back.

“What happened?” Baek-hwa’s voice called from somewhere above Jeongin’s hiding place. “They’re dead!” the one kneeling beside Wonjae and Dabin’s bodies called back. “Shit,” Baek-hwa cursed. “Get down there and help them get the bodies,” he instructed someone Jeongin presumed was beside him.

Jeongin watched as two more men appeared and helped pick up the bodies of the two men and carry them away. He listened as the footsteps retreated and pulled back as the area was thrown into darkness once more. He listened as the sounds of the forest came back and he could finally rest.

He tried to get some sleep but his mind wouldn’t stop. ‘What was that shadow? Was that what killed those men?’ He tossed and turned until he finally managed to pass out.

The next morning, he awoke to find light creeping into the cave and he could finally see. It wasn’t a huge den, maybe only big enough for a family of foxes or so. He had enough space to sit up. He could tell it wasn’t dug out by whatever previously lived here. Perhaps it was naturally occurring.

He gathered his things and left the safety of the den, squirming his way out of the opening and could see that it had rained the night before. He pulled a flask from his bag, filling it with water before he placed it back and stood up, slinging both bags over his back again. He started the way he’d been going the night prior, moving deeper into the forest.

He continued as the sun rose, stopping briefly to have something to eat before continuing on. He didn’t see Baek-hwa or his assailants again as he continued on. He noticed how the terrain started to slope up and he knew he must have reached the base of the mountain. If he could reach the otherside, maybe he could find another village where he could set up a new homestead.

He continued on, stopping when he heard a twig snap from behind him. Turning quickly, he expected to see Baek-hwa or his men. He was met with nothing. He couldn’t see anyone or anything other than the trees for that matter. Perhaps he was hearing things?

He turned back and continued forward. He’d only gone a few more steps when he heard another snapping twig. He froze again, turning his head around to see what was following him but again, he saw nothing. He turned back forward, but instead of taking another step, he waited. Waited for something else.

Another twig snapped, this time closer but instead of looking, Jeongin stayed still. He kept calm, listening as soft steps carried toward him. He spun quickly, catching sight of what had been following him. His eyes widened as he made eye contact with it.

‘A fox?’ he thought to himself. Looking back at him was a small fox with black fur and golden eyes. He stared back at it, expecting it to run but instead it stared back at him. He watched in awe as it took a tentative step forward, still keeping its eyes on him. Jeongin slowly knelt down as the fox approached, holding out his hand.

The fox looked at his hand and then up at him before its head turned slightly to look at something behind Jeongin. He froze, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end. He tried to turn to see what was behind him but he felt a blow to the head and everything went black.

You looked down at the man, the branch in your hand as you breathed heavily. “Oh my god,” you whispered as the realization of what you’d done crept over you. You tossed the branch aside and looked back down at him. Looking at Clover who looked up at you, golden eyes judging you. “I’m sorry!” you said holding your hands out. “Look, I panicked! I thought he was going to grab you!”

The fox rolled its eyes and you looked away, back at the man lying unconscious at your feet. “Should we take him?” You looked back at Clover who stared back at you unblinking. You nodded. “Right. Leaving him here would be bad. Got it,” you said as you brushed your hands together to get the dirt from the bark off. Clover watched as you reached down, sliding your hands under the man’s arms and lifted, starting to drag him along the ground.

You heaved and pulled, panting as you did only to receive more judging looks from Clover. “Look,” you panted. “You could help me, you know.” Clover rolled their eyes again before the vision of the fox spun and morphed into a man. “I don’t know what you’d do without me,” he said as he waved his hand, the man’s body lifting from the ground.

You smiled at the wizard and dusted your hands off again. “Thanks, Clover!” you chirped as he shook his head. You led the way, skipping along the path as the man’s body floated behind you with Clover bringing up the rear. 

You skipped faster as the cabin came into view. “Almost there!” you called out to your friend who rolled his eyes as your chipper demeanor. “You know,” he said as you started up the path leading to the door. “For someone who is so violent, you sure don’t act it,” he continued, guiding the man’s body after you.

“I’m not violent!” you called back as you reached the door and unlocked it, pushing it open and holding the door so Clover could guide the man into the room. “Just put him on the bed,” you said softly as Clover guided the man’s body over to the bed where he hovered for a moment before falling haphazardly on the mattress. “Careful!” you chastised, rushing over to sort out the man, moving his head and arms so he wouldn’t be sore when he awoke.

“You hit him over the head with a log and you’re telling me to be careful?” Clover chuckled as he stood by the door, arms crossed over his chest. “What a strange person you are, Y/N,” he added.

You stood up straight and turned towards him. “Well, I must be off,” he said, standing up straight. “Will you be alright, alone here by yourself?” he asked. You shook your head. “Right, just hit him with another log if he gives you trouble,” Clover said with a smirk. Your smile fell. “I. Panicked, okay?”

Clover nodded, waving before exiting the open door. You rushed over to watch as he headed down the path, turning once to look at you waving at him. He raised a hand before turning into a raven and taking flight into the sky. You shut the door and locked it before turning your head to look back at the man on your bed.

“Alright,” you continued, taking a deep breath and walking over, placing your hands on your hips as you took a good look at him.  “Now, just who are you?”

Jeongin woke to the sounds of light clattering and the scrape of metal against metal. His head was throbbing. He opened his eyes, blinking rapidly as he tried to adjust. He turned his head, wincing at the pain that followed. He was inside a cabin of sorts.

He could see shelves with books upon books and a desk that was cluttered and covered with papers, writing implements, and an assortment of herbs and rocks. He tried to sit up but his limbs felt heavy. He looked down and noticed a strange purple aura encasing him.

“What the-”

“Oh, you’re awake. Good,” said a voice and Jeongin looked up, seeing a figure by the hearth where a fire was crackling, heating up a large cast iron pot. The smell of meat and vegetables reached his nostrils and he took a deep inhale. Whatever it was in the obvious cauldron smelled amazing.

“Where am I?” he asked as the figure turned their gaze away from him and stirred the contents of the pot.

“You’re in my cabin, what a silly question to ask,” the figure said with a chuckle. Jeongin watched as they set the spoon aside and moved towards the bed. Jeongin looked up as they approached and took a seat beside the bed. “What have you done to me?” he asked as the person, he could now see was a female, looked over him, gently turning his head and prodding the tender spot.

Jeongin winced and the figure grimaced. “Sorry,” she said. “I hit you over the head.”

Jeongin looked up at her. “You what? Why the hell would you do that?!” he yelled.

You moved your hand, your finger moving in a quick circle and Jeongin felt his jaw snap shut.

“Don’t yell,” you said as you grabbed a basket with some medical supplies in it. “It’s rude.”

‘Well, so is hitting someone over the head,’ Jeongin thought since he couldn’t talk.

“My name is Y/N,” you said as you pulled out a small vial. “And I hit you over the head because I thought you were going to hurt my friend.” You looked down at him and Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat. Your eyes. They were a bright golden yellow. Much like that fox from before.

“Do you remember the fox?” you asked and Jeongin nodded as he watched you pull the cork on the vial. “That’s my friend Clover. I thought you were going to grab him and hurt him. Foxes aren’t exactly revered around these parts,” you explained as you turned the vial over, allowing some to spill onto a cloth.

You set the vial aside and leaned forward, holding out the cloth only for Jeongin to shy away. “It’s okay,” you said softly. “I know your head hurts. This will make it not hurt.” Jeongin hesitated, allowing you to gently press the cloth to his head. He winced but soon, the pain as well as the throbbing went away and he looked up at you in shock.

You winked at him, placing the cork back in the vial and returning the little glass to the basket. You waved your hand and freed his mouth. “Who are you?” he asked softly. You looked down at him unblinkingly. “I’m Y/N,” you said plainly. “I already said that.” Jeongin shook his head.

“I meant like… who are you? Are you like… a witch?” he asked to which you laughed. “I’ve been called that before,” you answered with a nod. “But more importantly,” you said, leaning forward. Jeongin was unable to pull too far away due to whatever spell you had his body under.

“Who are you?”

Jeongin cleared his throat. “I’,m uh… I’m Jeongin.”

You sat back up straight. “Jeongin, huh?” you said softly, tilting your head. He nodded, glancing down at his body still shrouded in the purple aura. “What is this?” he asked, nodding towards the aura. “Oh,” you said suddenly, waving your hand and it disappeared.

“I just did that while you were out and I was busy cooking so you didn’t try to sneak up on me,” you explained as you started to stand. Jeongin moved quickly, sitting up and grabbing your arm but you were quicker. You managed to roll, pulling him off the bed and pinning him against the floor, his arms pinned to his sides by your legs as you straddled him, your forearm pressing against his throat.

“I’m not your enemy,” you explained softly. “But don’t make the mistake of thinking I won’t hesitate to kill you if you try to hurt me.”

Jeongin tapped the back of your calf, surrendering to your power.

Just as quickly as you were on him, you got up and held out a hand, pulling him up when he took it. “Let’s eat,” you chirped and walked over to the fire. Jeongin stood hesitantly. “Sit,” you instructed and he did as you said, moving to take a seat at the table. You grabbed a bowl and picked up the ladle, scooping stew into the bowl before moving to set it on the table.

“It’s hot, so be careful,” you said as you filled another bowl and took a seat across from him.

Jeongin watched as you picked up your spoon and took a bite. “It can’t be that hot,” he noted, to which you looked up. “Want me to throw it in your face and test that theory?” you asked with a smirk, tilting your head. Jeongin’s eyes widened and he quickly picked up his spoon, shaking his head.

“N-no,” he stammered before digging in.

He could tell there was meat and potatoes, maybe some cabbage and rice but it was delicious. He scooped another spoonful into his mouth. “S��good,” he said as he ate and you smiled, turning your attention back to your own bowl.

Jeongin had forgotten the last time he had a proper meal and ended up eating three bowlfuls of stew. You reached to take his empty bowl but he stopped you. “You cooked,” he said before getting up. “Tell me where to go and I’ll clean them.” You smiled but ignored his comment, taking his bowl.

“You’re still injured,” you explained. “Go lay down, let me deal with this and then I’ll look at your wounds.

Jeongin watched as you headed out the door and instead of laying down, he started to poke around the cabin, inspecting your belongings. He was used to the small huts in the village where he lived. Nothing this extravagant. Wooden doors that locked, windows with decorative frames were things he’d never seen in person, only ever heard of.

The cabin was one room, like his had been but it was much cozier. There were no cracks for the wind to sneak into, the roof was sturdy wood and slanted to allow rain to run off. There were four windows, two on the wall by the door, one on the outside window and one on the back wall over the desk, framed by shelving. The fourth wall wasn’t made of wood. It was made of rock.

‘It must be partially built into the mountain,’ Jeongin noted as he stared. The bedroom area was almost entirely encased in rock. It was unlike anything Jeongin had ever seen. It was an extremely clever idea as well. Using a cave as part of your dwelling. If only he had known to do so.

On the other side of the stone hearth was a large wooden cabinet with doors and shelves stocked full of cheeses, sealed bottles, breads, small bowls with salts and other spices. Hanging from an iron circle suspended from the ceiling were various dried herbs and even some small game. Rabbits and birds mostly. He inspected the mantle and noticed a couple portraits and a small trinket box. 

He moved over to the desk, fingers brushing over the papers on the surface as he inspected them. There were a lot of maps. Maps he didn’t recognize, not that he was knowledgeable of maps to begin with. He looked up at the shelving, inspecting the books and their titles. He expected to see this sizable collection in a palace or something, not here in a cabin in the forest, built into the base of a mountain.

Jeongin turned as he heard the door open and you returned with two clean bowls and spoons.

“Having fun snooping?” you asked with a smirk. Jeongin opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water trying to explain but you shook your head. “I saw you through the window,” you explained, pointing to the window opposite the rock wall.

“I’m not mad,” you continued. “But I really do need to inspect your wounds.”

You led him over to the bed and he sat down. “I don’t have any wounds,” he protested but you made him lie down and lifted his shirt. “Your wounds are internal,” you explained as you gently prodded and massaged his side, making him wince. “You’ve got a fair amount of bruising here and here,” you said, also placing your hand over his stomach just over his navel.

“Were you in a fight?” you asked bluntly. Jeongin froze, staring up at the rocky ceiling above. You waited for his answer but when he didn’t answer, you spoke again. “Did you at least get a few punches in?”

Jeongin chuckled, letting out a soft cry when the motion caused his sore muscles to tense him. “You’re asking me about my fight?” he asked. You nodded. “Whoever did this packs a wallop. So I hope you got a few licks in, too.”

Jeongin smiled as you rubbed some kind of ointment and the soreness and tenseness in his muscles dissipated. “You’ll have to apply this until the bruising clears up,” you explained as you rubbed some more on his stomach.

Jeongin held his breath as your hand traveled dangerously close to his waistband. “Two times a day,” you added as you pulled your hand back, wiping it on a cloth and placing the lid back on the small metal tin and handed it to him. Jeongin sat up and took the tin from you. “What is it?” he asked.

“An ointment to help with soreness and bruising,” you explained as you gathered your supplies and set the basket aside. “I made it myself.” Jeongin opened the tin and held it up to his nose, sniffing it. He smelled mint but couldn’t tell what else was in it.

“What’s in it?” he asked, placing the lid back on it and looking up at you.

“Just some herbs,” you replied. “I’ll tell you how I made it tomorrow. Get some sleep.”

You got up and paused when he grabbed your wrist. Looking down at his wrist and then up to meet his gaze, Jeongin managed to blurt out “thank you.” The smile you gave him was one he’d never seen before, not even from the old woman in the village he traded furs for shirts or her granddaughter, Haneul.

“You’re welcome,” you answered and Jeongin let go of your wrist. “What about you?” he asked as you moved over to the desk. “I can sleep on the floor,” you said as Jeongin set the tin of ointment on a small table beside the bed. “What?” he said suddenly. “No,” he continued. “This is your bed. I’ll sleep--”

He didn’t get to finish his words as you turned in your chair and waved your hand at him. “Sleep,” you said sternly and Jeongin passed out, unable to fight the darkness as it passed over him, taking him deep into slumber.

The next morning, Jeongin awoke to find himself in bed but the cabin otherwise empty. He sat up, looking around and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. Lifting his shirt, he saw that he indeed had some heavy bruising from Baek-hwa and his friends’ punches.

He dropped his shirt as the door opened and you entered the room, smiling when you saw he was awake. “Morning,” you said as you carried something in your arms. “Or should I say good day,” you continued as you carried the sack over to the table and set it down.

“Let’s have a look at those bruises,” you said as you walked over and took a seat beside him. Jeongin lifted his shirt for you to inspect. “Make sure to apply that ointment,” you said as you gently poked around the edges of the bruising. “It’ll make a huge difference in healing.”

You got back up and headed for the table as Jeongin picked up the tin and opened it. He scooped a small amount and started to rub it into his skin as you opened the sack. “What’s in the bag?” he asked, looking up occasionally as he applied the ointment.

“I went hunting,” you said nonchalantly. Jeongin looked up at the rabbits hanging from the ceiling. “What about those?” he asked, nodding towards the rabbits. “They’re small and we need more meat if you’re going to heal properly. Protein speeds up the healing process,” you explained as you pulled small game from the sack.

Jeongin finished applying the ointment and wiped his hand off on the same cloth you used the night before and got up, walking over to the table. He was surprised to see what you managed to catch. “Hunting and fishing?” he asked as he noticed the fish basket.

“I’ve been gone all morning,” you replied. “Up before the sun, in bed after it sets,” you explained. “Making the most out of every day. That’s what Clover taught me.” Jeongin smiled as you added the rabbits to the iron circle. “The fish has to go outside,” you explained and picked up the basket.

He followed you as you headed outside and over to a wooden rack where you had some fish already hanging. “How does fish tonight sound?” you asked, turning to look at him. Jeongin nodded silently before you turned back to the rack and hung up all the fish.

“I also need to go foraging,” you said as you walked back towards him, stopping at the bottom of the steps leading into the cabin. “Want to come with me?” you asked, looking up at him. He nodded. “Sure,” Jeongin said, stepping aside as you entered the cabin.

“Good,” you said and grabbed a sack. “Make yourself useful,” you added as you tossed one to him.

The hike to the spot was a short one and Jeongin was shocked to see the size of it. Not only were there even more berries than at his favorite spot but there were more types as well as all kinds of fungi. He watched as you pulled a small bag from your pocket and moved over to one of the mushrooms.

“These are really good when you fry them,” you explained as you picked them and placed them in the bag. “They’ll need to soak for a few hours but we can have them with our fish.”

Jeongin looked around and moved to one of the bushes. “Are these okay?” he asked, pointing to the berries. You turned to look at him and nodded. “Not too many though,” you instructed. “Maybe a sack,” you added. “There are smaller bags in the large sack I gave you.”

Jeongin dug through the bag and found one before starting to pick berries and fill the bag. Once it was full, he tied it off and picked a few berries to eat. “And those?” he asked, pointing to another bush. You nodded without looking. “All these berries are good to eat,” you replied. “Just a small bag each. I like to make wine with them,” you explained.

Jeongin got to work, collecting berries as you foraged for mushrooms and other plants. When the bags were full, Jeongin insisted on carrying both but you refused, reminding him he was still healing. The walk back, you asked him about his life, where he was from, where he grew up, what his childhood was like.

When you broached the subject of parents, Jeongin shut down as you walked up the path to the cabin. “Touchy subject?” you asked, unlocking the door and letting him in. Jeongin nodded, handing you the bag and watching as you moved to the cabinets. “I lost both my parents,” he finally answered.

“My mother left when I was young and my father died when I was fifteen. I’ve been on my own ever since,” he explained as you started to store the food you both collected together. “I’m sorry,” you said softly. “I lost my parents to disease when I was young. I was raised by Clover,” you explained, shutting the cabinet doors.

“The fox?” Jeongin asked, making you chuckle. “He’s a wizard,” you reminded him. “He was in fox form while we hunted that day. He’s awfully quiet in that form,” you explained. Jeongin grimaced as you turned to him, setting the bags of berries on the table.

“So he raised you?” he asked and you nodded. “Taught me everything I know. Built this cabin and left it to me when I came of age.” Jeongin looked around. “Makes sense,” he said softly. “I’ve never seen a cabin like this before,” he explained. “That’s because it was built with magic.”

Jeongin smiled as you set the empty bags away, hanging them on hooks.

“I have some work to do in the garden,” you announced. “Would you like to join me?” Jeongin nodded with a smile. 

“I’d love to.”

After a quick lunch of leftover stew, Jeongin helped you in the garden, pulling weeds and pruning the bushes and vines. His garden was small but this garden was twice the size. It had everything from cabbages to potatoes and even pumpkins.

“This is a huge garden,” he noted as he dropped another cabbage in the basket. “Even for two people.” you nodded as you pruned a tomato plant. “I sell whatever I don’t need,” you explained. “Never hurts to have a little extra coin,” you added with a wink.

As the two of you finished up, Jeongin looked at you. “Where do you sell this stuff?” he asked as you gathered one of the baskets. “At a village on the other side of the mountain,” you replied. Jeongin rounded on you, holding the other basket. “On the other side of the mountain?” he asked incredulously. You nodded with a laugh and beckoned him to follow you inside.

Once inside, you stored your harvests away and led Jeongin over to the desk and pulled out a map from under the stacks of paper. “This is a map of this region,” you explained. Jeongin looked over it in awe. He’d never seen more than a map of the village and the forest. Your map had so much more on it.

And it was so detailed.

“Here’s the village you told me about and based on your descriptions, your cabin was around in this area,” you explained, pointing out spaces on the map. “Here’s where we are,” you continued, pointing at a small red x on the map. “The village I sell at is here,” you added, pointing to a black x on the other side of the mountain range.

“How long does it take to get there?” Jeongin asked, looking up at you. “Well, if you go around the mountains, it can take months,” you answered, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. “But I use the mountain pass so it only takes a few days,” you added, pointing to two lines drawn over the mountain range connecting the two sides. “Who made this map?” Jeongin asked in amazement.

“Clover,” you answered, standing up straight. Jeongin followed your movements, standing upright as you walked over to the hearth and added a couple logs to the dying flames. “He makes maps of all the regions,” you added. “He’s a traveling wizard and cartographer,” you added as Jeongin stared at you.

“He stopped for a while to raise me here,” you explained as you stood up, brushing your hands off. “But now that I can care for myself, he’s back to traveling again, making amendments to his maps.” Jeongin shook his head as you moved over to the bedroom area, grabbing a small basket from the shelf.

Jeongin looked around the cabin. “So, now what?” he asked as you sat down on the armchair. You looked up at him. “Now we rest,” you replied with a smile. “It’s too soon to have dinner and I have some knitting to get done,” you continued, pulling out a project you must have been working on for a while.

“You can read any of the books if you’d like,” you said, nodding towards the shelves. Jeongin shook his head, instead grabbing one of his bags and opening it. He sifted through it until he found what he was looking for. The journal he’d been reading. He settled down on the bed, propping the pillows up against the wall so he could sit up against them.

Jeongin read as much as he could, absorbing his mothers words. He had reached the part of her journals where she had met his father and it was so enchanting to read about his father through his mother’s eyes. He discovered a new side to his father he’d never known. The romantic side.

Their courtship was long according to her and she initially rebuffed him as he was a human but he eventually gained her trust and she warmed up to him. After which, they got married, something Jeongin had never known. He thought it had been a short affair but the time and effort they put into their marriage told him otherwise.

He also learned that his parents had a hard time conceiving a child and that Jeongin was from their sixth attempt. He was the only one that made it full term.

Jeongin dropped his hands into his lap, the journal falling with it as he stared at the wall. You looked up at him. “You alright?” you asked, noticing he seemed catatonic. When he didn’t respond, you set your knitting aside and got up, moving to sit on the bed. “Jeongin?” you asked, waving your hand in front of him. That seemed to snap him out of it and he looked at you.

“You okay?” you asked, your voice laced with concern. He nodded, clearing his throat and looked down at the leatherbound book in his lap. “Yeah, I just uh…” he trailed off before looking back up but not at you. He seemed to be looking past you but not at anything in particular. More like he was staring off into a place you could not see. “Jeongin?”

“I have siblings…” he finally said softly and your brows rose in shock. “What?” you asked.

He turned his head to look at you. “Sorry,” he said, shaking his head. “Random thought.”

You glanced at the book. “What are you reading?” you asked. Jeongin glanced at the book and closed it, keeping his thumb between the pages. “It’s private,” he explained. “Sorry,” he added. You shook your head. “No need to apologize,” you replied. “I meant no disrespect nor was I meaning to pry. Simply curious,” you explained.

Jeongin glanced down at the book again before taking a deep breath. “It’s a journal,” he finally sighed. You waited for him to continue. “It’s my mother’s journal,” he clarified. Your eyes widened. “Oh,” you said softly, uncertain of what else to say. “And you’re just now reading it? I’m not judging by the way,” you said quickly. Jeongin simply chuckled before setting the book aside and scooting off the bed.

You watched as he grabbed one of his bags and walked over, opening it for you to see the contents. Inside were a dozen or so leather bound books, all of them identical. You looked up at Jeongin in bewilderment as he set the bag down and joined you on the bed.

“My mother kept extensive journals all throughout her life. She left them with my dad when she left,” he explained. “Dad kept them for me so I could get to know her if she never came back. I think he knew she wouldn’t come back,” he continued sadly. “I’ve been reading them since my dad taught me to read.”

You looked back at the bag. “How many are there?” you asked, looking back at Jeongin. “Around fifty,” he answered, a hand reaching up to scratch his brow. “I’ve read about twenty of them so far.” Your eyes widened as you looked back at the sack lying unassuming on the floor.

“What’s in this one?” you asked, tapping the cover of the one on the bed before you froze. “I’m sorry,” you said quickly. “That’s none of my business,” you continued. Jeongin shook his head. “It’s okay,” he said, grabbing the book and opening it. “In this one, she met my dad,” he explained.

“She details their courtship and marriage,” he continued, flipping through the pages. “She wrote that it was a huge ceremony and that the reception lasted well into the early hours of the next morning and that they were both so exhausted from the party that they never actually consummated their marriage during the ceremony,” he said with a chuckle.

You smiled fondly, watching him look over the words on the page.

“What was your mother’s name?” you asked, drawing his attention. “Well, dad never told me her real name. He knew her as Eun-soo but while she was in Japan, her name was Yuki. So I’m not entirely sure what she was really called,” he continued.

You looked at him again, studying his features. The fox-like eyes, the orange irises, his blond hair. It suddenly made sense to you. He was like you. He was fox-folk.

“Was your mother a kumiho by any chance?”

Jeongin was caught off guard by the question. He’d never been asked so directly about it before and as he looked up, his eyes met your golden ones and he knew instantly why you were asking. It was like a switch went off in his head and suddenly everything made sense. 

Your golden eyes, the magic, being raised by a wizard. Well, maybe the last part wasn’t really all that related but in his mind, it still helped him to put the pieces together. You were like him, too. You were fox-folk.

“A…are you?” he asked softly, holding your gaze. He could tell by the way your eyes widened slightly that he was on the right track. “Or was one of your parents?” he continued, setting the journal aside. You nodded slowly. “Both of my parents were fox-folk,” you answered, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jeongin leaned forward. “Both?” he asked in amazement. You nodded, shifting to face him. “Yeah,” you replied. “That’s amazing,” he breathed. “So you’re pureblooded?” he asked, to which you nodded. “Wow. I’m only half,” he replied. “Probably why I can’t do any magic,” he added with a chuckle.

You tilted your head at his comment. “All fox-folk can perform magic,” you said, drawing his attention again. “Wait, really?” he asked. You nodded, grabbing the journal from his hands and setting it aside. “Have you ever tried?” you asked. Jeongin shook his head no, watching as you pushed your sleeves up.

“It’s easy,” you explained. Jeongin rolled his eyes. “Oh sure,” he retorted but you pushed him gently. “I promise it is,” you replied. “It’s so simple, really. Come on, I’ll show you.”

Jeongin watched as you scooted onto the bed beside him, crossing your legs and resting your back against the wall. You closed your eyes, adopting a sort of meditation position. Jeongin watched but when you opened one eye to peek at him, you nudged him and he sighed, adopting the same position.

“Deep breath in,” you said. Jeongin followed your lead, breathing in slowly and deeply, filling his lungs. “And out,” you said and the two of you breathed out in unison. “Now, visualize a fire,” you said softly. “A fire? Why a fire?” Jeongin asked. “Ow,” he whined when you lightly slapped his hand.

“Okay, okay. A fire. Got it,” he said. “Wait, what color is it?”

“Whatever color you want it to be.”

Jeongin closed his eyes again, picturing a fire in his mind. Something bright and pink. “Now, imagine how it feels. Is it hot? Is it cold? Does it burn or does it tickle? Does it smell pleasant or is it rancid?” Jeongin imagined the fire was cool to the touch and it felt like the fluttering of wings. It had no smell.

“Okay,” he said. “Now what?” he asked, opening an eye. “Hold your hand out,” you instructed. Jeongin closed his one eye again and raised one of his hands. “Place it in my hand,” you continued and he did as you said, placing his hand in yours, palm up.

“Now imagine your fire and imagine it’s in your hand. Concentrate and picture your fire in your hand.”

Jeongin focused all his energy, holding his breath as he pictured the pink, cool, fire that fluttered. “Don’t forget to breathe evenly,” you reminded him. “Breathing is important.” He resumed breathing as he focused all his mental strength on the fire. He sighed, keeping his eyes closed.

“This is dumb,” he said. “I can’t do magic.”

“Is your fire pink and cool to the touch?” you asked softly and Jeongin hesitated. ‘Wait… is mind reading one of the abilities of a full-blooded kumiho?’ he wondered. “Uh, yeah. But how did you know that?” he asked. “Open your eyes, Jeongin.”

He did as you instructed and was met with your face drenched in the pink glow of a fire in his hand. The pink fire he’d imagined. He looked back up at you and then down to the fire in his hand. It was dancing, fluttering against his hand. “Are you doing that?” he asked and you pulled your hand away, conjuring up a bright blue flame. “I take it that’s a no?”

You laughed and the fires both extinguished as Jeongin lost focus. “I told you that you can do magic!” you said excitedly, slapping his knee and then pushing yourself up and climbing off the bed. Jeongin looked down at his hand, excitement bubbling in his stomach.

“I’ll get dinner started,” you said as you moved towards the door. “Keep practicing,” you said before opening the door and heading outside. Jeongin kept at it, conjuring a pink flame, making it dance and crawl around his hand as you prepared the fish for dinner. While it cooked, you made a side dish with rice and some of the mushrooms you’d picked earlier.

When it was ready, Jeongin joined you at the table and the two of you ate in silence. “Thank you, Jeongin said suddenly, making you look up, eyes wide and bewilderment on your face. “For taking me in after you bashed my head in,” Jeongin continued. “For caring for me and teaching me magic.”

Your expression morphed, a smile spreading across your face. “I couldn’t leave you out there after I hit you with the branch,” you explained. “Clover would have but I wouldn’t have forgiven myself if I left you to the elements. And besides,” you continued. “It’s nice having some company that isn’t Clover for once.” 

Jeongin looked down at his food, cheeks growing warm.

“You know,” you said, tapping your chin thoughtfully. “If you want to stay longer, you’re more than welcome to,” you added. “I really enjoy your company.” Jeongin’s eyes widened. “Really?” he asked, trying not to sound too excited. You nodded, smiling at him. “But you might have to get used to sharing a bed,” you said. “There’s not enough room in here for another bed and I refuse to let you sleep on the floor,” you added.

Jeongin’s cheeks grew even warmer at the thought of sharing a bed with you but he played it off.

“Sure,” he said softly. “No problem.”

It was indeed a problem he later discovered. While the bed was big enough for two bodies, it wasn’t big enough for two bodies and a space between them. Jeongin wanted to respect you and give you as much space as possible but with the size of the bed, it put him right on the edge of the mattress and in danger of falling off.

The next day consisted of about the same routine, some foraging but in a different spot. You taught Jeongin all about the herbs and weeds you used to make ointments and medicines, showing him what cured certain ailments. Afterwards, he helped you on the other side of the garden where the bee boxes were and held the jars for the honey while you handled the bees.

The day after that, you took him fishing with you and he was impressed by the spot you had. No one else was around and as you sailed out on the lake in a boat you proudly told him you helped Clover make, the two of you sat in silence, rods propped up while you knitted and Jeongin read more of his mother’s journal.

He’d made it to the part where she was pregnant with him and close to her due date. She wrote how she knew he was a boy and how she knew he was going to take after her in both looks and mentality. Jeongin checked his fishing rod before returning to his reading. He heard you clear your throat and looked up to meet your gaze.

“So what else does she say?” you asked, nodding towards the journal in his hand. “Oh,” he said softly. “She’s pregnant with me in this part,” he explained. “She wrote about how she knew I was a boy and that I would take after her,” he continued. You smiled at him as you tied off and wove the yarn tails into the scarf you were making. “She also says she got a letter from a woman named… Anitta?” he said and looked up at you.

You merely shrugged and set your knitting needles aside, picking up the scarf and throwing it around his neck. “There,” you said with a smile. “It’s done.” Jeongin’s cheeks burned as he looked down at the soft garment. “It’s nice,” he said softly and started to take it off. “It’s yours,” you said, grabbing it and wrapping it back around his neck.

“I was going to give it to Clover but I figured I can always make him another and you need one now so,” you trailed off, smiling at him. Jeongin toyed with the material, cheeks burning as he tried to think of something to say before finally settling on a simple and soft thank you.

Fishing ended with the two of you catching a small basket of fish and Jeongin managing to catch a little crawfish which he promptly dumped back in the water. Once the boat was pulled ashore, the two of you headed back down from the mountain lake to the cottage to hang up the fish and settle in for the night.

You made roasted rabbit and potatoes and after dinner, you settled down with your knitting to start another scarf for Clover while Jeongin got to the end of his mother’s journal. He closed it, wrapping the twine back around it and got up from the bed, moving over to his bags.

He reached in for another, pulling the trinket box out so he could dig for the right one.

“What’s that?” you asked, looking down at the box. “Oh, just a box my dad made,” Jeongin said as he dug through the bag. “May I?” you asked, setting your things aside. “I’m kind of nosey,” you noted with a laugh. Jeongin chuckled and shook his head. “Go ahead,” he replied.

You grabbed the box and set it on your lap, opening and inspecting the contents.

The box was a beautiful dark wood with a soft lining. It was beautifully crafted and you wondered if Jeongin’s dad knew how much he could have made by making and selling these boxes. Inside the box were a few items, some of great value and others you suspected were more sentimental. There was a silver ring, a loose but rather large gem, some gold coins, and a silver locket. You picked up the stone to inspect and deduced it was a sapphire and was definitely worth a lot.

“This could fetch you a lot of gold,” you noted, holding up the stone for Jeongin to see as he looked up. “Dad found that,” he said, reaching up to rub his eye. “Found it while digging around the outside of our cabin to add to the garden when I was a kid,” he continued and held out his hand.

You placed the gem in his palm and he brought it to his face to look at it. “He thought the same thing,” he continued. “Thought we could sell it for some gold in case we ever needed it. I forgot it was in the box,” he added, handing it back to you to place in the box.

Next you picked up the silver ring. There was nothing of note about it. It was a crudely forged ring made of pure silver. “Oh,” Jeongin said, noticing the ring and grimacing. “Dad made that. Was trying his hand at smithing,” he added. “It’s ugly but he was proud of it. He made it himself without any help. He wasn’t much of a blacksmith. He was more of a carpenter,” he explained.

“Which is why the box is so nice,” he added, gesturing to the box in your lap.

You dropped the ring back into the box and Jeongin returned to his bag, digging for a specific journal as you lifted the silver locket. It was engraved with a simple fox head on both sides. You carefully opened it and smiled at the first portrait. It was of a young child with light hair. There was no mistaking this was Jeongin.

You turned the locket to look at the other portrait as Jeongin pulled the correct journal from his bag and his eyes fell on the locket in your hand. The other portrait was of a woman. An all too familiar woman. She had the same blonde hair Jeongin had, the same fox-like eyes. It was his mother.

“Oh, that’s,” Jeongin darted forward, his hand closing around the locket and closing it before he took it from your hand. “That’s my dad’s. Was my dad’s.” he said softly, looking at the silver locket. You shut the trinket box and handed it back to him. “Sorry for prying,” you said softly as he took the box.

“No, it’s okay,” he said as he brushed the silver surface with the pad of his thumb. “I honestly forgot this was even in there,” he added as he looked up and gave you a sad smile. “She’s very pretty,” you said softly, drawing his attention. “Your mother,” you clarified.

You tilted your head, offering him a playful smile. “I guess you’re pretty, too,” you added, noticing the way he averted his eyes and his cheeks turned peach. He opened the box and placed the locket back inside, closing the lid and setting back with his things.

After he read a bit more and you started to yawn, you called it and set your knitting aside. “It’s going to storm tonight,” you said softly as you got up. “I’m going to put the covers down on the windows so it doesn’t rain in.” Jeongin watched as you exited the door and returned to his book as you disappeared.

Outside you undid the hooks holding the covers up and let them down into place, securing them with the wooden rods that slid through two rings on the side of the cabin as well as a ring on the end of the shutter. 

Clover had done some interesting things when building this cabin but as odd as they were, they worked. You placed the covers for the other three windows down, locking them in place as the wind picked up. 

You also grabbed the cloth Clover had for covering the garden and hooked it in place with the four hooked stakes in the corners of the garden. You repeated the process, covering the bee boxes before gathering all the fish and bringing it inside to hang up by the fire.

As you closed and locked the door, you could hear thunder in the distance and Jeongin looked up from his mother’s journal. “We’re safe here, right?” he asked and you nodded, moving to stoke the fire and then joining him on the bed. “This is probably the most stable building in the region,” you explained as you settled down on the side of the bed you’d claimed and looked up at him.

“You can stay up if you want,” you said, shifting, pulling the covers over you, and getting comfortable. “Just try to keep the noise down,” you added with a wink which made Jeongin crack a smile. “Okay,” he replied. “I’ll try.”

You shut your eyes and tried to focus on sleeping.

But you couldn’t. Your mind was full of the portrait in the locket. You rolled onto your back and sighed, opening your eyes and staring at the cave ceiling. Jeongin didn’t seem to notice but when you sighed again, he looked up. “You alright?” he asked and you took a deep breath before sitting up and turning to him. “I need to tell you something,” you said, taking his journal and setting it aside.

Jeongin looked from the journal to you as you took his hands in yours.

“What I’m about to tell you might sound outrageous but keep in mind I’m much older than I look because as you said before, I’m pureblooded fox-folk.,” you started. Jeongin met your gaze and nodded slowly. You took another deep breath before explaining.

“Your mother’s name was Keiko. She was from a small island off the coast of Japan. The locals there called it Fox Island. She came to this land as a child with her mother to live in the palace of the king centuries ago. Her mother was a highly sought after healer and the king’s wife was incredibly sick.”

Jeongin said nothing as you continued.

“When your mother was nearing maturity, her mother overheard a plan to marry her off to the king’s son but her mother had heard that the first prince was a cruel man who abused those around him. She did not want your mother to suffer at his hands so she ran away, taking your mother with her. They left the palace and ran and ran until they reached the coast, hoping it would be far enough away that the king’s men would never find them.”

You cleared your throat and continued the story.

“Your mother continued to live on the coast, in a small fishing village for many many years and eventually, she grew into a great beauty. Many men tried in vain to marry her but her mother drove them all off. When her mother finally passed from old age, your mother left the village and traveled inward, hoping enough time had passed that the king was no longer looking for her and she was right.”

“The king and his son had both since passed and a new ruler was on the throne. Your mother traveled the land until she found this region and moved here, settling down in a cave in the mountains. Rumors circulated of a great beauty that lived in the mountains but some of those rumors painted her out to be an enchantress that devoured the souls of men. It was here my mother met her,” you explained, watching Jeongin’s eyes widened but he said nothing, allowing you to continue.

“Your mother and my mother became good friends and then… I came along and I can remember how your mother doted on me. She wanted a child of her own but she had no luck in finding a husband. It was when she’d given up hope of ever having a child that she met your father. I was a young child by then but I still remember the day she came to us, announcing she had found someone,” you said with a smile, remembering back to that day.

“My mother and father were so thrilled she’d managed to find someone who loved her. Someone she could start a life with. She wrote to my mother, telling her of the ceremony and the time after. She shared her troubles conceiving with my mother in those letters. And then, she got pregnant. And it lasted,” you said softly, looking up from your hands to find Jeongin’s eyes filled with tears.

“She gave birth to a healthy baby boy and she named him Jeongin. She wrote how she was so in love and she’d never known a love like that before. The love of a mother. She loved you so much,” you said softly, giving his hands a gentle squeeze. This pushed him over the edge and a small sob escaped him, the tears finally falling. You pulled him into a tight embrace.

“Why did she leave?” he whispered into your shoulder. “She had to,” you explained, gently stroking his hair. “The people in the village branded her a witch and she feared if she did not leave, they would come for her. So she left you with your father and she went north,” you continued. “I’m sure it was her intention to come back but I don’t know much else,” you added.

You continued to stroke his hair, rocking him gently as he sniffled. “Sorry I got snot on your shirt,” he said softly. You chuckled, patting his head. “It’s okay,” you replied. “I’ve had worse things on my shirt before,” you added as you pushed him back, brushing his hair out of his eyes. “I just needed to tell you because if I didn’t, it would eat me alive.”

You pulled him in, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “You deserved to know the truth about her. She was a remarkable kumiho. I really looked up to her,” you added. Jeongin smiled, reaching up to wipe his eyes. “Thank you for telling me,” he said softly. “And who knows,” you said suddenly.

“Maybe she left some clues in her journals as to where she went.” Jeongin looked down at the journal and then back up at you. 

“Then I better get to reading, I guess.”

After the talk, it must not have taken you long to fall asleep because you were woken by the sound of thunder.

Your eyes opened and you noticed that it was mostly dark, save for the fire in the hearth. You peered over your shoulder to find Jeongin had finished his reading and gone to sleep as well. You lay back down, closing your eyes but another clap of thunder sounded and the rain whipping against the side of the rain made you realize what had actually woken you and it wasn’t the storm.

It was the way Jeongin shook each time the thunder clapped or the shutters rattled against the windows.

He’d told you how his home was battered by storms and he wasn’t able to keep up with repairs as he wasn’t a carpenter like his father. He said he’d grown accustomed to the fear that at any moment, the entire hut would collapse, trapping him inside.

‘He’s probably terrified out of his mind right now,’ you told yourself.

You turned over, eyes finding Jeongin curled up in the dark beside you. Sitting up, you reached out and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?” you asked softly over the sound of the rain battering against the roof. Jeongin rolled back to look up at you. “Sorry,” he said just as softly. “It’s just the storm…” he trailed off.

“I have… bad memories.”

Your expression softened as you pulled the covers back and gently grabbed his arm. “Come here,” you whispered, tugging him towards you. Jeongin followed, allowing you to pull him into your space where your arms went around him protectively, his head ducking under your chin and into your chest as he wrapped his arms around you.

You gently stroked his hair, humming softly as you tried to drown out the sounds of the storm. Your humming turned into singing, trying to lull him to sleep. “What is that?” he asked, his voice slightly muffled by the cloth of your night shirt. “It’s a song my mother used to sing to me,” you replied, continuing to stroke his hair. “It sounds familiar,” he continued.

You nodded silently before speaking. “Your mother probably used to sing it to you when you were a babe,” you answered. “Most fox-folk know the song.”

Jeongin fell silent, tightening his hold on you as he nuzzled further into your warm embrace.

“Do you feel better?” you asked softly, smiling when he nodded. “Good,” you whispered, tilting your head to press a kiss to the top of his head. Jeongin pulled back to look up at you. Neither one of you said anything, staring at one another until he finally made the first move, closing the distance and pressing his lips against yours.

Almost as quickly as it happened, he pulled back, stuttering apologies and trying to explain himself. You cut his words off, taking his face in both your hands and pulling back in for another kiss. He relaxed under your touch, lips pressing more firmly against yours as he leaned into the kiss.

“Don’t apologize,” you said when you pulled back. “You have nothing to apologize for.” Jeongin pulled you back in for another kiss, more hurried and rushed this time. You didn’t fight it when he pushed onto your back or when he climbed over you, never breaking the kiss as he settled between your parted thighs.

You sighed against his lips, almost moaning when you felt his tongue slip into your mouth. He moved his hands, sliding them up to your cheeks and pulled back, breaking the kiss. “Thank you,” he said softly, his eyes looking between yours. “For what?” you whispered, placing one of your hands atop his.

“For saving me,” he continued, thumbs stroking your cheeks. “I now know it was you that killed those guys following me.” You stared up at him. “I’ve had time to think about it and it makes sense,” he added.

“So thank you for taking me in and for protecting me.”

You grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him down into another kiss. “You don’t have to thank me,” you murmured between kisses. “I’m sure you would have done the same in my position,” you added. Jeongin shook his head. “I’m shy and antisocial,” he replied. “I wouldn’t have gotten involved.” You pushed him back slightly so you could see his face.

“You’re not antisocial,” you countered. “You were tormented and abused. There’s a difference.”

Before Jeongin could say anything else, you interrupted with another kiss.

You rolled over, pinning him against the bed as you straddled him, directing his hands to your waist as you continued to kiss him. You felt him tense under you as you rolled your hips, grinding against the growing bulge in his pants. You pulled back to look at him, noticing the look of hesitation on his face.

“Was that too far?” you asked, fearing you may have crossed a line and moved to climb off him but his hold on your waist tightened. “No,” he croaked. “It’s just that…” his voice trailed off as he swallowed thickly, trying to find the right words.

“I’ve never… I’m a…” he was failing to form a complete sentence but you knew what he was saying.

You cupped his cheek tenderly. “You’ve never done this, have you?”

He shook his head and you smiled warmly, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips. “Do you want to stop?” you asked and watched as he contemplated it. Just when you thought he was going to say yes, he surprised you by shaking his head. “No,” he finally answered.

“Don’t stop.”

You pressed your lips against his, taking the lead. Your hips rolled slowly, grinding against him, eliciting the sweetest moans you’d ever heard come from a man before. “You sound so sweet,” you whispered, lips brushing against his cheek as you moved to whisper in his ear. “So innocent,” you continued, kissing down the side of his neck.

Jeongin let out a moan as you nipped at his neck, smiling before pulling back to look down at him. “Do you want me to keep going?” you asked, slowing your movements, enjoying the desperate way Jeongin whined and pulled at your hips, urging you to move.

“Y-yes,” he whimpered. “Keep going, please,” he begged. Instead of doing so, you climbed off him, ignoring his protests and pleas as you tore the blankets back. “What are you doing?” Jeongin asked as you nestled beside him. “Just trust me,” you said softly, reaching to turn his head towards you, pulling him into a kiss.

With the distraction of your lips against his and your tongue slipping into his mouth, Jeongin didn’t notice the way your hand moved down his chest, slowly until he felt your palm against the bulge in his pants. Moaning into your mouth, one of his hands moved to grab yours but you pushed it away.

“Are you going to be a good boy or will I have to restrain you?” you asked darkly. Jeongin let out a little whimper and shook his head. “You won’t be good?” you asked, cocking your brow. He shook his head again. “I’ll be good,” he blurted out and you pulled him back in for another kiss, letting your hand wander again.

This time, he didn’t move, only moaning as you started to palm him through his trousers. Considering how hard he already was, it didn’t take you long to get him begging and whining for more, his hips bucking up against your hand.

You made quick work of his pants, untying the string and sliding your hand under the waistband, your palm coming into contact with the hot skin of his dick. Jeongin let out a soft whimper as your fingers wrapped around him. “Have you never been touched like this before?” you asked, watching his face as he shook his head.

“Not even by yourself?” you asked, tilting your head. He hesitated before nodding. “I’ve…” he swallowed thickly. “I’ve touched myself a few times,” he answered. Your smile grew slightly. “Do you want more?” you asked, watching the way his brow furrowed as you stroked him at an even pace.

“P-please,” he murmured, hips bucking into your hand. You removed your hand from his pants, moving and pulling his pants down, throwing them to the floor before climbing over and straddling his hips. Jeongin looked up at you as you leaned over. “Do you want to stop yet?” you whispered, your smirk growing even more when he shook his head.

You toyed with the hem of your night shirt, watching the way his eyes flickered from your face to your hands and back up. Finally, you decided to not tease him any more and lifted the material up over your head, dropping it to the floor and allowing him a moment to adjust to your nakedness.

His eyes were all over your form, taking in every inch of exposed skin. You took his hands and guided him to your waist. “You can touch me, you know,” you said softly, snapping him out of his trance. “O-okay,” he answered, his voice barely audible over the sounds of the storm.

“Wait, I can?” he asked as if just registering what you’d said. You nodded instead of replying verbally and waited patiently as his hands moved of their own accord. His eyes followed the movement of his hands up to your chest, hesitating before cupping both your breasts.

His lips parted in awe as he gave a gentle squeeze.

He’d never done anything like this before. He had no idea what was allowed and what wasn’t or what felt good for you. “Is this okay?” he asked, looking up to meet your gaze. You nodded, reaching one hand up to place over his, pushing his palm against your chest more firmly.

Jeongin groaned at the contact, eyes flickering back down to your chest. Without a word, he sat up, his hand under yours moving aside. You pulled your hand back as he leaned in, glancing up at you for permission which you gave in the form of a nod. His eyes fluttered shut as he took your nipple in his mouth, tongue swirling around the bud.

You let out a sigh, combing your fingers through his hair as his tongue flicked against your skin. You arched your back, pressing your chest into his face as he gently sucked, letting your nipple fall from his mouth before repeating the same process on the other breast, one of his hands moving up to cup your chest. His other hand moved around to your back, hovering just above your ass.

You rolled your hips, brushing your sex against his cock and making him gasp. Your fingers in his hair tugged, tilting his head back to look up at you as you rolled your hips again. “How does that feel, sweetheart?” you asked softly, cupping his cheek with your free hand.

“S’good,” he moaned, his hands grabbing your hips, trying to guide your movements but feeling unsure of what he was doing. “You want me to ride you, little fox?” you whispered, leaning in so your lips brushed against his. He gulped loudly. “Y-yes,” he pleaded. “I wanna feel you.”

You took him in a messy kiss, tongue dancing against his. “You wanna feel me? Feel me from the inside?” He nodded quickly, eyes sliding shut as you rocked your hips, grinding against his cock, coating it with your arousal.

“Wanna fill me with your cock?” you purred. Jeongin let out a choked moan as you ground harder against him. “Fuck! Y-yes, please!” he whimpered.

You reached down to grab the bottom of his shirt, tugging it off him and letting it fall to the floor as well before placing your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back against the mattress. You allowed your eyes to scan his body, taking in his lean frame as you lifted your hips.

“Are you gonna be a good boy for me?” you asked as you reached between your bodies, taking his cock in your hand and giving him a couple of strokes, coating all of his cock with your slick. He nodded urgently, biting into his bottom lip. “I need to hear you say it, Innie,” you cooed, lining the tip of his cock with your entrance. He nodded again. “Yes,” he finally managed to croak out.

“I promise I’ll be good.”

Without another word, you sank down on him, his cock gliding easily as your walls welcomed the intrusion. Jeongin let out a long groan as you enveloped him completely with a sigh. You felt him twitch inside you and you leaned over, placing your hands on the mattress on either side of his head.

“You promised you’d be good,” you said, meeting his gaze. He nodded, blinking slowly as his hands moved to your thighs. “I promise,” he whispered. “Then you can’t cum yet,” you replied, placing a chaste kiss on his lips. “You have to wait until I say you can cum,” you continued. “Can you do that for me, baby boy?” He nodded again. “Yes, I c-can,” he answered.

You slowly raised your hips before sinking back down on him, his cock burying into your cunt. Jeongin moaned against your lips, fingers digging into your skin. “Feels s’good,” he muttered as you set a slow, steady pace, hips rising and falling, driving his cock repeatedly into your pussy.

“Such a good boy,” you cooed, leaning over to kiss along his jaw, making him tilt his head, giving you more access to his neck. “Letting me fuck you like you deserve.” Jeongin whined in response, his hands moving up to your waist. “Mmore, please,” he begged, gasping when you obliged, your hips bouncing against his. “Shit, shit,” he gasped, fingers tightening around your waist.

“Wait, m’close!” he warned. You immediately stilled, his length buried in your walls. You raised your hand to push his bangs back from his forehead, leaning over to press a kiss against his skin. “You’re doing so well,” you praised as he came down from the edge.

“Filling me so well. Such a good little fox.”

Jeongin whimpered as you rolled your hips. “Do you want me to keep going?” you asked sweetly. He shook his head. “Give me a moment more,” he murmured. You sat up, moving your hands to his chest, sliding them down to his stomach and back up past his shoulders and onto the mattress.

“Do you want me to stay on top of do you wanna take control, little fox?”

His eyes fluttered open, meeting yours. “I can take control?” he asked softly. You nodded. “You want to try that?” He nodded hesitantly, hissing as his cock slipped out of you.

You pulled him on top as you laid back, your thighs wrapping around his waist. He looked down at you, cheeks burning as he took in your fucked out expression. “Go ahead,” you urged.

Jeongin looked down, eyes widening slightly as they landed on your glistening sex. “It’s okay,” you added, drawing his attention. “Take your time.” Jeongin took himself in his hand, guiding the tip to your slit, watching as the head of his cock slipped past your folds, finding your center easily.

He groaned, watching as your walls sucked him in until his hips met yours. His eyes moved up, meeting yours as he tried to control his breathing. “I don’t…” he trailed off. “Just follow your instincts,” you said gently. He nodded, taking a deep breath before pulling his hips back, watching your face as he snapped forward. You let out a moan, eyes rolling back.

Taking that as his cue to keep going, he repeated the action, quickly setting a steady pace. It was different than when you were in control, he was able to drive his cock deeper into your walls, making you moan louder than when you’d been on top.

“F-feels s-s’good,” he stammered, his head falling into your chest as he continued to thrust into you. “Ah~ fuck, that’s it, Innie,” you encouraged him. “Keep going.” Following his instincts, like you’d suggested, he cupped his hand against the back of your thigh and pushed your leg against your stomach, sinking his length further inside you with a groan.

“S’ so deep,” you moaned, eyes fluttering shut. Jeongin kept his eyes open, watching to watch your face as he fucked you. He’d never seen someone so beautiful before. “Faster,” you gasped. Jeongin complied, his thrusts gaining speed. “Oh f-fuck,” he groaned. “M’gonna cum.”

You took him by surprise, rolling him onto his back during his momentary lapse in control. Without giving him a chance to regain the upper hand, you took his hands and pinned them against his head. “Gonna cum already, little fox? I thought you’d last longer,” you said with a scoff. Jeongin whimpered, his cock twitching as his orgasm impending as you rocked your hips with renewed vigor.

He tried to pull his wrists from your hands but your grip was too strong. “Don’t fight me for control,” you said, leaning over to kiss him. “You gonna cum for me? Can’t even wait for me to say you can cum. Pathetic,” you scoffed. Jeongin bucked his hips up to meet yours.

“Please,” he begged. “Let me cum.” You shook your head. “Only good boys get to cum,” you retorted. “You haven’t been good.” Jeongin shook his head. “I have been good!” he argued, moaning at the end of his protest. “I’ve been good,” he repeated.

“Please let me cum, Y/N.”

You chuckled, slowing your movements, holding his wrists tighter when he protested.

“Such a greedy little slut. Wanting to cum first,” you snapped, rolling your hips. “F-fuck Y/N, m’gonna cum. Shit, shit, shit,” Jeongin whined, hips bucking up as his orgasm washed over him. You slowed your hips as his cock twitched, Jeongin releasing inside you with a whine.

You sighed, your hips coming to a stop as you looked down at him. “Couldn’t even wait for me to finish with you,” you said softly. Jeongin opened his eyes. “S-sorry,” he stammered. “I tried to stop but it just felt so good.” Your lips twitched into a smirk. “It’s okay,” you replied, releasing one of his wrists to cup his cheek. “But now you’re gonna have to lie there and let me finish,” you continued.

Jeongin looked up at you, leaning into your touch. “That’s okay,” he replied, letting out a gasp as you rolled your hips, his cock still lodged inside you. “You’re in for a long night, little fox,” you said softly, taking his wrist and pinning it again before sliding your hands to lace your fingers with his as you continued to rock your hips, feeling him slowly start to get hard again.

“A really long night.”

Jeongin awoke the next morning to the smell of meat and opened his eyes slowly, blinking away the sleep and allowing his eyes to adjust to the sunlight that filtered into the cottage.

He rolled over, peering at you by the fire, cooking breakfast. He stretched his arms, whining at the soreness in his muscles. You chuckled as he pushed himself up, realizing he was shirtless. You, on the other hand, were fully dressed. “What happened last night?” he asked, reaching up to scratch his head.

You glanced over your shoulder. “Don’t tell me you’ve already forgotten,” you said as you plated breakfast and walked over to the bed. Jeongin felt heat rise in his cheeks. “No,” he answered as you sat on the edge of the bed, presenting him with a plate. “I just forgot how many times,” he murmured, adding a thanks at the end.

You chuckled as you dug into your own food. “More than a few,” you answered. Jeongin looked up and then out the window. “How late is it?” he asked. You shook your head. “Not that late, It’s not even noon,” you replied. The two of you ate in silence, Jeongin thanking you again as you took his dirty plate.

“Where are my clothes?” he asked, noticing they were not on the floor where you’d left them the night before. “I washed them first thing this morning,” you answered. “They’re probably dry by now,” you added and headed out the door to retrieve them.

Upon entering, you handed the clean clothes to Jeongin who dressed himself in silence. “What do you plan to do?” you asked softly as you stoked the fire. Jeongin looked up and then down at his hands. “I’m not sure,” he answered. “I’d like to go find my mother,” he added.

You turned to look at him, a warm smile on your face. He got up and walked over to where you stood, his hands resting on your waist and pulling you closer. “But part of me wants to stay here with you.” You smiled, eyes shutting as he leaned his forehead against yours. “Stay here and maybe build a life with you.” Your heart swelled at the thought but it was quickly deflated by another thought.

“I think you should follow your heart,” you finally said, pulling back to press a kiss to his forehead and turn away. Jeongin opened his eyes and sighed. He looked around the cottage and then at his bags on the floor near the table where he could see one of his mother’s journals peeking out at him.

His mind was made up for him.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, pressing his lips against your shoulder. “It’s okay,” you reassured him. “Do what you have to do,” you added. Jeongin turned you to face him, reaching up to cup your cheek. “I will come back,” he said softly, eyes flickering between yours. “I promise.”

With his rucksack packed full of supplies you could spare and a map in hand, you pointed him in the right direction. Jeongin pulled you in for one last kiss, resting his forehead against yours for a few moments after. “I mean it,” he said, pulling back to look at you. “I will come back. Regardless if I find her or not.” You nodded, smiling and keeping the sad feeling lingering in your stomach at bay.

“Be careful,” you said, giving his hand a squeeze. Jeongin pulled away and started through the forest in the direction you’d pointed him. The last place you’d heard his mother had been spotted. North towards Mongol territory. As he reached the edge of your property, he turned to look back at you.

He raised his hand, waving which you returned and watched as he turned back and slowly disappeared from sight. With a sigh, you continued to stare after him. “You better come back,” you whispered to yourself, moving your hand to rest against your stomach.

Smiling to yourself you turned away and headed back into the cottage to tend to your chores, hoping Jeongin found what he was looking for sooner rather than later.

He only had nine months after all.

ⓘ Graphics made by me. Content and support banners made using a template by cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, translations, or continuations of my works. All writing and graphics are ©️ kwanisms.

[seravphs]

ੈ♡˳·˖✶ — PORT MAFIA! DAZAI X FEM READER X PORT MAFIA! CHUUYA

You’ve been a fangirl of Double Black for years, successfully hiding your hobby right underneath your employers’ noses. When you’re finally ready to give up your immature infatuation after years of pining, Dazai finds out - and he’s ready to have a little fun. 

wc — 3.1k

tags — mdni, mild degradation, praise, delayed orgasms, dacryphilia, Chuuya doesn’t show up until the very end but he has imagined scenes

You’ve always held an attraction to the darker sides of life. How else do you end up working for the mafia if you don’t? It’s something your boss, Dazai, always said - you have to be crazy to be here. 

And you must be crazy, because Double Black, your direct superiors, are two even crazier bastards, and you’ve been getting yourself off to them every night, imagining it’s Dazai’s fingers in your dripping cunt, Chuuya’s chest pressed against your back. You want them so bad it’s made you sloppy and desperate, years of suppressed feelings bubbling to the surface whenever you catch sight of them. 

It doesn’t help that they are the way they are. Dazai is a flirt in all the worst ways, asking if you’d spread your legs for him on his desk when you return a report. You had squeaked and backed up into Chuuya, who had told him to fuck off and guided you to the door. His hands are surprisingly soft, not like that of a mafia grunt. 

That night, you had come three times with Dazai’s name on your lips and two more with Chuuya’s. 

It’s not like you see them often, being the assistant of an assistant of an assistant and so on, far, far down the line. You’re grateful for that, because you’re sure it’s it’s the only thing that kept you from making the dumb mistake you just made before now. 

Dazai plucks the journal from your hand, eyes narrowing. Venom drips from his voice as he snarls, “Is this mafia work? How many times do we have to remind everyone that we don’t leave a paper trail? Do I just have idiots working under me?” 

“Sir,” you stammer. “I-um.” Without thinking, you’ve already started reaching for the journal, your body on autopilot. You need it back. 

It’s not mafia work. It’s even worse. It’s your journal of Double Black’s endeavors, filled with your thoughts detailed in glitter pen next to cut outs of newspapers and pictures of them. Humiliating, the work of the much younger girl you’d been when you made it. You had found it under your bed, a relic from when you had first joined the mafia, and just your luck - Dazai had found it as you were about to throw it out. 

Fury is written all over his features as he sneers, “Did you just try to take this from me?” 

He flips it open. You’ve never seen Dazai surprised. Even then, his control over himself is immaculate. His eyes widen only a fraction, his breath hitches once. Then, he grins. That look can’t mean anything good for you. 

“Oh,” Dazai says. “How cute - you’re a fan.” 

You try to protest, but Dazai’s already made up his mind, and you’re caught up in his schemes. That’s how it always is - what Dazai wants, Dazai gets, and right now, he wants to play with you. 

“Do you like me?” Your mouth falls open and you shake your head, stammering, but your cheeks feel hot. Even if every action you made wasn’t a dead giveaway, this is Dazai. He would be able to tell even if you were the most accomplished liar in the world. 

“Oh, you cute little thing,” he purrs, watching you panic. “You do.” 

He stalks closer until your only options are moving forward into his chest or back into the wall. “Do you fuck yourself at night, thinking of me? What was it like? I can imagine you grinding down on one of your toys, frustrated because it’s not my cock in you. Aw, maybe you couldn’t come without imagining me.” 

Your eyes widen in embarrassment. “Sir! That’s not appropriate!” 

He taps your chest lightly with the journal, chuckling. You can tell what he thinks of you - some obsessed little girl who was new to the mafia, in over her head. “I think we’ve crossed that line a long time ago,” he says. “There’s a more important question to answer. Do you want it?” 

You wet your lips with your tongue, thinking, and his gaze snags on that enticing gloss over your lips. He’s watching you the way a lion watches prey, and you have to press your thighs together to alleviate the ache between your legs. 

He could be teasing. This could lead to way worse things. But you’ve been wanting this ever since you joined the Port Mafia, years of yearning. You can’t afford to give up this chance. 

“Yes,” you whimper underneath his searing gaze. “I want you.”

It’s embarrassing for him to be in your bedroom, seeing the true depth of your obsession with Double Black, but he had refused to take you to his. He outright laughs when he catches sight of a wanted poster you had stolen from a notice board and pinned up across from your bed. 

He doesn’t wait for you to give him directions, sitting down on your bed immediately. “Come here,” he says, patting his lap impatiently. 

Slowly, you make your way to him, thighs spread, one on either side of his legs, hovering over him. He flips your skirt up and coos at your pretty panties. One slender finger runs itself up that damp spot that’s already appeared on your the white fabric, and you shudder over him, gripping onto his shoulder for support. 

His other hand skims your leg, runs up your side, and tugs lightly at your shirt before he pulls it straight off of you, revealing your matching bra. He’s a tease, as you’d known he would be. 

He snaps the waistband of your panties against your skin, murmuring, “Did you plan this? Coordinated just for me? Oh,” he grins like the thought just occurred to him. “Did you mean for me to see that journal and come back here to fuck you until you cried?” 

“No,” you cry out, rocking on his fingers, desperate for the little amount of friction he’s giving you right now as he toys with your clit over the fabric. “Didn’t- mmh!” You curl over him, trying to get him to touch you more. 

He smirks. “Already? So easy for me, aren’t you, sweetheart?” 

He grabs you by the waist and pushes you down so you’re lying on your bed, back pressed against the silk sheets. The Port Mafia, at least, paid well. That’s why you can forgive him as he grabs a fistful of your underwear and rips it right off of you. It stings, but somehow, it feels nice at the same time. He smoothes a hand over your stomach, then dips his head. 

“I’ll buy you another set,” he promises, sucking fresh bruises into your thighs. Marking you up. You squeak as he bites down, then laves his tongue over it in apology. “I’ll buy you as many as you want if you’re a good girl for me.” 

You whimper, too strung out to think of a verbal response besides please, and I want you, Dazai, and, make me cum. 

You’re pliant as he nudges his way between your legs, but try to squirm away when he whistles at the mess he finds between your thighs. It’s humiliating, the way you’re spread for him, completely naked, and he’s still clothed. 

He slides two fingers through your folds, not entering you yet, but already his fingers are wet enough to shine in the dim light of your room. With his thumb, he circles your clit. It makes you jolt like you’ve hit a live wire. He does it again, and presses down harder. You don’t miss the way his eyes flash as he watches you thrash, the way his dress pants are straining against a bulge. 

He kisses you for the first time since he found you in the hallway with Double Black paraphernalia in your hand, hot tongue sliding against yours in a way that would make your knees weak if you weren’t already on your back for him. He kisses like you think he would fuck - with a raw intensity that leaves you dazed and wanting more. Not that you would ever stop wanting whatever he could give you.

Idly, he rubs your clit while sucking a hickey onto your neck, distracting you as two fingers enter you at once, a burn that has you crying out into his mouth. 

“Sh,” he says against your lips. “I know, I know. I’ll make you feel good in a minute, I promise.” 

He’s sweet as he preps you, fingers moving at an agonizing pace to avoid hurting you, but not giving you what you want, either. The pleasure of his thumb playing with your clit dulls the pain, but you’re left wondering - if this is just his fingers, what would his dick feel like?

He noses against your cheek. “Hey. What are you thinking about, baby? I haven’t even put my cock in you yet and you’re already out of it?” 

You like it when he calls you baby. He doesn’t seem like the type to dole out pet names, but he can’t help it when you clench around him like that every time he uses it. 

The noises of his fingers slipping in out of you, made louder by the sheer amount of slick dripping out of you, is embarrassing in a room quiet of anything but Dazai’s candy coated words and your panting. You fling an arm over your face, but just as fast, he pushes it back down over your head. He leaves his hand splayed over your wrist for just a minute, a silent warning not to move. 

You know he likes watching you squirm though, likes the way you fall apart beneath him and can’t control your own body. It’s okay. He’ll do it for you. 

“I want to see your face,” he says. “Don’t hide from me.” 

He rips a sob out of you as he settles into a steady pace. His hands are so pretty you think you could get yourself off just looking at them, elegant, pale, long fingers. He catches you watching them slip in and out of your cunt, transfixed by the sight of your own slick on him, a fantasy come to life. 

You can’t stop yourself from whimpering and trying to grind down against him, bucking your hips for more, more, more. Not even five minutes ago you thought you wouldn’t be able to take the stretch, but now you’re begging him to fuck you harder and deeper. 

He coos faux-sympathetically. “Aw, I know, baby. You want Chuuya here too, don’t you? Greedy little thing. My fingers just aren’t enough, huh?” 

He laughs when you whine and shake your head beneath him, tears sliding off your cheeks. With a glint in his eyes, he leans down to kiss one right off your nose. He’s always wondered how they would taste. 

You can’t hold yourself still beneath him, eyes rolling back in your head as you simultaneously try to grind yourself down against his fingers and back away. He makes the decision for you, spreading your already open legs wider so he can grind his palm against your clit. Your legs quiver as your mouth opens in a silent moan, every nerve on fire. You’re too blissed out to speak. He relishes in knowing how to play your body already. 

“Ah - ah,” he frowns condescendingly. “You’re such a squirmer. Is it because you want Chuuya to come hold you down while I fuck you?” 

You almost cum right then and there from the picture he paints in your mind. Chuuya’s pale hands pinning your wrists down so you can’t thrash away from Dazai and ruin your own orgasm, as you have been doing accidentally without the boys to take care of you. To control you the way you want to be controlled. 

Chuuya, his chest against your back as he spreads you wider for Dazai to take whatever he wants. Chuuya’s voice in your ear, calling you baby and sweetheart and his pretty little slut as Dazai makes you cum until you’re crying for them, makes you beg for it. Chuuya, rubbing your clit as Dazai sinks into your pretty cunt, making you cum before he’s even fully inside of you. Chuuya, transfixed by the way your pussy flutters around Dazai’s cock. 

“Please,” you beg, though it’s indistinguishable from the other noises you’re making. 

Dazai croons he pats your cheek. “Poor little thing, too stuffed full to talk? It’s okay, I already know what you need.” 

“Dazai,” you half moan. “Want you. And Chuuya.” 

“I wonder if you can come with just words,” he pants, pulling his belt off. “That’d be so hot. I think you can, baby, don’t you? You like my voice so much you’re creaming all over me and I haven’t even fucked you properly yet.” 

There must be something wrong with you, because otherwise why would that mocking tone of his send you over the edge? 

You agree mindlessly, as you have been to whatever’s he’s been saying for the past few minutes. Dazai must like his own voice as much as you do because he keeps up a stream of praise and light degradation and filthy words that make you clench as he finally pushes into you. 

He groans, throwing his head back so you can see his Adam’s apple bob. You’re entranced by it, the rough way he swallows. He feels your eyes on him and brings his gaze back to you. Sweaty and half clothed, somehow he manages to look like a conquering king rather than a debauched sinner. Such is Dazai’s nature. He makes even immorality look good. 

The prodigy Dazai never has to work hard for anything - less than half a minute and he has you seeing stars, slurring his name like a prayer to a god who’s answered in all the wrong ways. 

“Good girl,” he murmurs, “that’s right, take it all. Oh, you liked that. Don’t deny it,” he grins wickedly as you shake your head no, feeling embarrassment creep into you even though what more is there to be embarrassed of, when he’s already seen everything? “I felt you get wetter. I won’t be so nice when Chuuya’s here, but you’ll like it, I promise.” 

He fucks into you at a steady pace that has you clawing at the sheets, whining and digging your heels into his back. You want him as close as possible. You want him to fuck you right back into that mind blowing pleasure you had felt earlier, when your thoughts had gone blessedly silent in bliss, nothing but pleasure dancing on your fried nerves. 

You can feel it coming, even better than before, thighs trembling in anticipation. And then he rips it all away from you, the dull tingle of your high receding back into your veins. You’re whining about how much you want to cum before you can stop yourself, too far gone to care about things like embarrassment. It’s a look Dazai loves on you. 

“Dazai,” you whimper, less a complaint than a plea because he’s in charge and you’ve known it from the beginning.  

“Mm.” He smiles down at you, a wicked sort of slant of teeth that has you in the palm of his hand. “Call me Osamu and I might give you what you want.” 

“Osamu?” You try, hopeful. 

“Nah.” He flips you over so you’re straddling his hips, him still buried inside of you. “Earn it.” 

Slowly, you rise up until just the tip of his cock remains inside of you, and sink back down until you find your rhythm. He cups your ass, helping you along until you can feel it again, that tension in the pit of your stomach. 

A noise cuts through the sound of flesh on flesh. Dazai’s phone rings as you bounce on his cock, and he picks up. You freeze and stare at him incredulously. He makes an annoyed face at you and gestures for you to keep going, and impossibly, you do. 

You’ll listen to any command he gives you, on the battlefield and in the bedroom. 

But you don’t have to take this lying down. You grind against him in a way that has your breath stuttering, but you underestimated him. Dazai has no shame - he moans as loudly and freely as he wants, then continues his conversation, only hanging up when he’s finished. 

He grins up at you, his hands settling on your hips again, directing your movement. “I had your room moved next to mine. Oh, Chuuya’s there too, I guess.” 

At the sound of Chuuya’s name, your hips stutter, and Dazai takes the chance to regain control. He forces your body to open for him, and oh, he’s never looked so good as he does when he’s serious, thrusting against you with a litany of throaty moans. Every roll of his hips as you seeing stars as he brings you back to that place that makes you hot and cold all over. 

He’s doing it again. “No, Dazai!” You keen, pressing your heels against his back like you can keep him in, but he’s so much stronger than you. He raises an eyebrow. 

“No?” 

“Osamu, please,” you think you might crying. Over dick. The best you’ve ever had, but still. It’s a little hot and a little humiliating and you can’t think about anything but how much you need to cum on his cock right now. 

“Say ‘thank you for giving me your cock, Osamu,’” he commands, and you fall all over yourself to comply even when he shoves his fingers in your mouth, making you drool and slur around them. 

“Than- thank you for - for giving me your -“ you squeal out as he bucks his hips up into you. “Cock! Osamu, fuck, thank you, thank you, pleaseiwantit-“

“Didn’t need to say all that,” he says, sly smirk gracing his lips again as he finally, finally, slips his hand between your legs. All it takes is one little brush of his fingers against your sore clit and you’re cumming for him, body locking in place as your back arches. 

“Fuck,” he grunts. “Can’t even move when your cunt’s so tight.” But you can’t hear him, pussy still spasming around him like you’re trying to draw him in. 

“Hello?” Chuuya’s annoyed voice accompanies the heavy knocking at your door. “Dazai, I swear to god, you dumb mackerel, if you sent me on another wild goose chase I’ll rip your fucking head off!” 

The thumping gets louder, as if he’s trying to break the door down. With his strength, it’s only a matter of time, too. You give Dazai a wide eyed look of panic, but he’s smiling, pushing his hair, damp with sweat, out of his eyes. 

“Well?” Dazai grins. “You going to answer him, baby?” 

[runawaydr3amerao3]

Fanbinding by @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis 📖🫶

Continuing my run as the luckiest little fangirl in the west... 🥺💖

@jinkieswouldyoulookatthis did something truly beautiful for me recently, and I've just received the results: my very own handmade, hand bound copy of my West series.

You can see her incredibly cool (possibly haunted) process here:

Below, you can see my very uncool emotional breakdown of/about it (and some more photos). 🥲

Now look at all of the beautiful details!

These end papers are so eye-grabbing and perfectly selected, since the series takes place through a revolving door of motels, just as in early-seasons canon.

The title verso has all of the information from AO3, the original LJ publishing dates, @idlingintheimpalapodcast's podfic version details, and the fanbinding specs. Then there's the contents page! JUST LIKE A REAL BOOK, YOU GUYS!

Also, did you happen to spot @tsukiyo-7's credit line on the verso page?! BECAUSE I DID! And I had no idea what that was about until I opened to the page with their custom artwork!

How freaking cool is that?! 😭 Thank you, you fantastically talented person! 💖 Everyone go check out their other beautiful art (plenty of stunning Wincest. 🫶) on their Tumblr!

In case you're wondering, the Kushtaka, which Jinkies also created a whole, super cool entry from John's hunting journal for, is the creature that necessitates Sam and Dean ending up in the shower together in part two of the series. 🤭

Then, not only that, but this curious little sticker tumbled out when I opened those pages:

Because Jinkies doesn't do anything by halves, it turns out that she even found this traditional formline artwork of the Kushtaka by Nick Alan Foote, an indigenous artist of Native American Tlingit heritage, where the legend comes from. That is such a special connection to have that I would never have expected. I'm way beyond touched. 🥹 Please check out the artist's other wonderful work here on Insta.

The final dagger in the coffin of my tendency to blubber at the drop of a hat, let alone in the face of heartfelt gestures, was this page:

@sam-is-my-safe-word and @talltalesandbedtimestories have been personal champions and cheerleaders of mine since the very beginning of my return to writing in this fandom, and they haven't stopped since. The fact that they still have effusively kind things to say about me and my work just makes me want to die (in a happy way).

The comments on my fics are, like, 90% of what keeps me writing. Sharing and engaging and knowing that my stories are making people happy is what it's all about for me, so having those comments from @fictionallemons, Faraway22 (not sure if they're on here under a different username?), Jinkies, and @chiquititasnewsong preserved as a reminder of that... Honestly, you should be glad you can't hear the noises I'm making right now.

The thing is, I knew Jinkies was doing this. She asked permission before she started, she offered to make me a copy as well, and I've been elated and flattered from the moment she did. But now, having it in my hands, I'm moved even further than I thought I would be (and believe me, I know myself–I knew I'd be a mess).

I live a very small life, y'all. The joys I experience tend to be on the same scale. So while this might not be grand or extravagant to many people, this gift, of something I put into the world through a medium I've only really known digitally, intangibly, now being something I can hold in my hands as proof that I've touched the lives of people so far and wide, is a kind of profound that these words don't do justice.

It makes my life feel pretty darn big after all.

Thank you, @jinkieswouldyoulookatthis. Thank you to those who contributed. Thank you to everyone who's read and commented and been a part of West in some way over the last 14 years. The story's still being told in this way. I'm so grateful to remain a part of it.

[hollyethecurious]

CS AU: Once Upon A Grimm (1/?)

Summary: The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. Many, like the Grimm brothers, had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions. Creatures known as wesen. Supernatural, other-worldly beings who have always lived among humans and have always been hunted by those who had come to be known as Grimms. A struggle of secrecy, balance, and power among these species has existed since the beginning of time. This is a story of a man with his own struggle. The internal struggle of being a human, a wesen, and a Grimm, and the external forces that seek to eradicate one or all of his natures, especially those he tries to keep hidden. Fortunately, Killian Jones is not alone in his struggles nor his secrets. His personal savior, Emma Swan, has secrets and struggles of her own.

A/N: This fic is inspired by and will borrow from the NBC show Grimm. I confess I did not watch Grimm when it first aired, but absolutely fell in love with the show during a binge fest years later. If you have not seen the show, no worries! My beta - who has not seen the show either - assures me that it is not necessary. If you have seen the show, then I hope you’ll forgive the huge creative license I am taking with the material. This is not a strict Grimm retelling with Once characters. This is my own spin on the lore and cannon of both shows.

I had hoped to be further along in writing this before my posting date, but alas… ‘tis not the case. This is turning out to be a much bigger beast than I intended and will likely be one of the longer fics I have written to date. That said, I do want to attempt to keep to some sort of schedule, so for now, I will be posting every two weeks in the hopes that I can bank more chapters and eventually update more frequently.

I cannot express how much I have enjoyed being a part of the @cssns all these years. Thank you to the mods who have kept it going year after year. We've had a terrific run! Huge shout out to @kmomof4 for always being my cheerleader and for her exceptional beta skills. A HUGE thank you and many fangirl squeals to my artist @eastwesthomeisbest for the amazing job she did on the cover art that accompanies this fic. Please go show her some love!

FYI: Because the show took cues from the Grimm brothers’ works, much of the vocabulary associated with the supernatural creatures was based on German or German coded language. For words like wesen and woge (which will be explained in the text) the w is pronounced with a v sound on the show. I’ll be using terminology from the show and more common creature names interchangeably within the fic.

Rated E (eventually) / Also available on ao3 and ff.net / buy me a coffee / add to tag list / Curious? Come Ask Me!  

Prologue:

The world was far more complex than most people realized. Humans went about their lives, completely ignorant of the fact that there was a world of fairytales existing right alongside them. Well, not really fairytales. Not in the Disney sense, anyway. The Grimm brothers had woven the truth into their stories, but the creatures they wrote about were even more nightmarish than their macabre and monstrous depictions.

Wesen. That’s what one of the Grimm brothers had called them in their other writings; in the journals and manuscripts they’d kept, cataloging these beings who walked among humans, yet were anything but.

Though Jacob Grimm had not been the first of his kind - those who were capable of seeing these creatures, these wesen, for what they truly were - for whatever reason, the men and women who possessed this same ability, this same birthright, would primarily become known as Grimms throughout the wesen world.

Perhaps it was because of how meticulously the elder Grimm brother had kept records, or how he had been the first to re-establish connections and relationships with others of his kind for the first time in many centuries, allowing the exchange of knowledge and organizing a more methodical way of dealing with the creatures their forefathers believed must be eradicated.

Though no one knew how or why, at some point, long before the brothers penned their first novel - no doubt inspired by the eldest brother’s encounters and retold as folklore by the younger - those who now called themselves Grimms had taken up the responsibility to protect humans from wesen, slaughtering entire bloodlines of these creatures without hesitation or remorse.

Never considering that they themselves weren’t exactly human either.

For just as wesen were born unto wesen, Grimms were born into Grimm families. The ability to see the truth, literally, passed through the family bloodlines, but there was only ever one Grimm in a family at a time. Possessing special abilities, Grimms had superior strength and stamina, as well as an ability to heal faster from injury. They were quick studies in the use of weaponry and had a natural talent for art and story-telling, which was a necessary trait given that they were compelled to chronicle all of their wesen encounters.

However, the most important gift was their ability to see a wesen woge when others could not.

A woge was when a creature would change from their human to wesen form, revealing their true, animalistic or nightmarish self. Although humans were capable of seeing a creature for what they truly were should it woge fully, most woges were a half measure, a demi-woge as some called it, only perceptible to other wesen - because they possessed wesen sight - and Grimms who could use this trait to identify their next target. However, it was also during a wesen’s woge, demi or full, that they could, in turn, identify a Grimm as well.

While Grimms only existed through birthright - a new one obtaining his or her powers when the previous Grimm in their family line died - not all creatures were born wesen. Some were made. Which, in the Grimms’ eyes, was one of the reasons they were so dangerous. Although gemacht - created - wesen were typically outcasts, and not favorably looked upon within wesen culture, the fact that some creatures had the ability to curse humans with a bastardization of their form, giving them the worst of their traits, was more than enough reason to eradicate their kind.

Some Grimms wondered whether wesen created these halflings as a way to throw suspicion off themselves, leaving Grimms to deal with these feral, newly turned and disoriented wesen while the pure-blooded wesen made their escape. Perhaps they were created for these types of distraction or even as a way for wesens to draw the attention of Grimms towards rival groups, using the hunters to dispatch their enemies for them. Whatever the reason, gemacht wesen were typically hunted by Grimms and wesen alike, considered by both sides to be an abomination, therefore, little was known about them, but there were some records within the logs kept in Grimm families, if one cared to look.

Killian Jones, however, had no interest in looking, or knowing, or learning, or indeed, having anything to do with his family’s Grimm legacy.

He and his brother, Liam, had been raised with the knowledge of their mother’s family’s ancestry. She had been the Grimm for her family line, until her death when Liam was sixteen and Killian twelve. A car accident that had claimed both of their parents' lives, and had altered Liam’s. Violently.

Upon Alice’s death, Liam had acquired the powers and abilities of the Grimm, but not the discipline or the skills to hone them. Fate, being the fickle, wretched bitch that she was, had placed the Jones brothers into a foster family of klaustreich, an alley-cat type creature that was prone to aggression and cruelty, as well as jealousy and a sense of possessiveness towards anything or anyone they felt a proprietary pull towards. Not typically known for their altruism, they likely only fostered children for the paycheck and as the Jones boys could attest, often mistreated and abused their charges.

The boys might well have been able to endure if the klaustreich son had not, in an attempt to intimidate and scare Killian into submission, woged with Liam in the room. Once the family had identified Liam as a Grimm, all hell had broken loose.

Fortunately, as most Grimms did, Alice Jones had made preparations in the event of her and her husband’s death, leaving the care of her sons and the knowledge of her bloodline in the hands of a fellow Grimm, Nemo. A longtime friend of the family, Nemo had, unfortunately, been overseas when he’d heard the news of Alice and Brennan’s demise. Having just arrived in town with the intention of taking custody of the boys, he showed up to the house with the authorities on the very same day the cat had been let out of the bag, so to speak.

Battered and bruised, but none too worse for wear, the Jones boys - who had fought off the feral, feline family and barricaded themselves in one of the rooms - were removed from the home, and into Nemo’s care. The clowder of klaustreichs was arrested by the police, who thought they had stumbled upon yet another sad, but all too common case of child abuse and neglect within the foster system.

That tussle with Liam was not the last time the klaustreichs met a Grimm in battle. However, the next one did not end as favorably for them. Nemo made certain of that.

Shouldering the responsibility left to him, Nemo moved the boys to Maine for a fresh start. By all outward appearances they lived a normal life, but nothing could have been further from the truth, although Killian certainly was allowed more normalcy than his brother.

After school, the boys had to endure hours of instruction, learning the various types of wesen and the most effective ways of killing each of them. Decapitation seemed to be the most popular choice among their Grimm ancestors, earning them the secondary moniker of dēcapitāre, as noted in the journals they kept in the basement of their Nantucket style house. That was until a break in had made Nemo overly cautious, causing him to acquire a second property - an old, abandoned, paint factory warehouse - where he’d fashioned an off the grid, bunker-style safe house on the harbour. He moved all of the Grimm artifacts, manuscripts, weapons, and supplies there, while keeping he, Liam, and Killian in the family home for appearances.

As the years passed and the boys grew older, Nemo and Liam spent less and less time at home. Often they crashed at the safehouse after a late night of sparing or studying, or they would be gone for days at a time… hunting. Though he missed his brother, Killian had reconciled the fact that he’d effectively lost him the day of their parent’s accident. Nothing had been the same between them since Liam had become a Grimm, but that did not mean they did not still care for and love one another. They just weren’t as close as they had once been, and they likely never would be.

After Killian had graduated high school and went off to college, the three men had effectively gone their separate ways. Nemo had fulfilled his promise and duty to Alice, and Liam had his own path as a Grimm to forge. During undergrad, Killian got a chance to embrace a true sense of normalcy for the first time in his life. Campus life, girls, classes, girls, parties, girls; he relished it all and even found his calling during one of the university's many job fairs and recruitment events. With his degree in criminology completed, he enlisted in the police academy and quickly worked his way through the ranks of the Storybrooke Police Department, located in the very town Nemo had moved them to all those years ago.

Though the Nantucket style house had long been sold, Nemo had transferred the deed of the safehouse to Liam and Killian, using false names and a dummy corporation in order to hide the identity of its true owners. While Killian wanted nothing to do with his family’s legacy, and had gone to great pains to try and forget the horrors he had learned about as an adolescent, he had relented when Liam begged him to take up residence at the safehouse for his own protection.

“Please, little brother,” Liam pleaded over the phone, the sketchy connection muffling Killian’s petulant response of ‘younger’ before he continued, “I know you want to distance yourself from me and our heritage, but if the wrong sort of wesen found out you were related to a Grimm, then--”

“Aye, I know,” Killian said with an exasperated sigh. “Having a Grimm brother puts a target on my back. I’m not a fool, Liam.”

“Then you’ll live at the safehouse?” Liam pressed. “And you won’t ever tell anyone or bring anyone there? You swear?”

“I swear.”

He’d been good to his word. Though he rented a modest studio apartment in the city so that he might have a physical address to keep on file with his work and avoid questions, his real residence for the past several years had been the loft in the safehouse, one level up from the bunker that still held remnants and reminders of who his family truly was, books and artifacts Liam had left behind when he’d filled a trailer and left Storybrooke for bloodier horizons. Books and artifacts Killian was determined to ignore, even if part of the agreement in him staying there was that he’d watch over things and keep them protected.

Perhaps, if he’d ever taken the time to look through those manuscripts when he’d dusted and oiled their bindings and covers, he would have realized the danger he’d fall victim to before it was too late.

~/~

“Are you sure this is even a homicide?” Killian asked the detectives who were about to leave the gruesome scene. He was still just a uniformed officer, but his application to take the detectives exam had been accepted and he was eager to work crime scenes through a detective's eye. “Looks more like an animal attack.”

“DNA will tell us for sure,” one of them said while scribbling down something in his notebook. “Make sure the scene stays secure while CSU finishes their work.” Shooting him an apologetic look, he added, “I’m afraid it’s gonna be a long night.”

“Will do, detective,” Killian replied, lifting the crime tape for them, so they could pass under it and make their way back to their vehicle. Their heated vehicle with comfortable seats and snacks likely stashed away in the glove compartment.

Killian sighed and turned his attention back to the grisly site where a hiker had been found mauled and torn to pieces, with no clue as to what could have done such a thing except, strangely enough, a lone, fresh, boot print that had not belonged to the victim. He had asked whether this was truly a case of homicide because that was the question other officers and even some of the techs had been asking, but in reality Killian had his own suspicions. Suspicions that might have him calling his brother later should the case be deemed an animal attack, knowing full well it had not been an animal who had caused such carnage. He may not remember much from the lessons Nemo had tried to teach him alongside Liam, but he knew enough to suspect that this attack had been committed by a wesen. And a brutal one at that.

Killian’s pocket buzzed and he reached in to retrieve his cell phone, groaning silently at who was on the other end of the line.

“What is it, Will?” he answered. “I don’t have time for whatever it is you’re calling about. I’m trying to secure a crime scene.”

“Aw, come on, Jones. Not you, too. It’s Friday night, the moon is full, you ought to be out on the town and livin’ it up!”

Killian tried to stifle a half smile, then asked, “What do you mean, not you, too?”

“Rob’s gotten roped into extra duty tonight as well,” his mate informed him. “Something about a missing girl over in Glowerhaven.”

Glowerhaven, like Storybrooke, was a suburb of the larger city Killian’s precinct had partial jurisdiction in. Robin, Will, and Killian had all met at the police academy and despite Will washing out several months in and Rob being assigned to a different precinct, they’d all remained close over the years. Will now ran a bar at the epicenter of the intersecting lines of the city, Glowerhaven, and Storybrooke, and often tried to make it a hub for his mates and their uniformed colleagues.

Unfortunately, it sounded as though the SPD and the GPD would be too busy with their respective cases to live it up anywhere, much less at Will’s bar.

“Sorry, mate,” Killian commiserated. “Afraid I’ve got a long night ahead of me as well. Rain check?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Will replied in a feigned disgruntled tone. “I’ve heard that before. I’ll add it to your growing tab of IOUs.”

“I promise I’m good for it.”

“Yeah, sure.” A more serious sigh crackled over the line before Will added, “Take care and watch your back out there, mate. The world is full of crazies.”

“Will do,” Killian promised, ending the call then muttering to himself, “Don’t I know it.”

For the next several hours Killian vigilantly patrolled the perimeter of the crime scene while the techs gathered evidence. It was just after midnight when the CSU officer in charge told him they were finished.

“Do you need me to have one of my guys stay to help you finish clearing the scene?”

“No,” Killian replied, waving them off. “You lot still have hours of work ahead of you.” With his thumb in his belt and his hip cocked to one side, Killian jutted his chin towards the scene and said, “It’s only a bit of tape and one final patrol. Nothing I can’t handle.”

“Well, if you’re sure,” the tech said, already motioning for their people to pack up their things and head out.

Killian watched the vans depart and began tearing down the police tape they’d used to cordon off the area. The techs had left behind one of their flood lights for him to use while finishing his own tasks, but after he stowed it away in his cruiser he realized how unnecessary that had been. The moon was bright enough for him to do a final patrol with the assistance of his flashlight to illuminate the hidden areas within the trees’ shadows.

He’d just finished a sweep of the perimeter when the skin at the back of his neck prickled and his hair began to stand on end. The area, which moments ago had been softly soundtracked by an ambiance of crickets and distant hoots of owls, had gone quiet.

Too quiet.

Reaching down to his holster, he flicked loose the restraining strap with his thumb before palming his side arm. “Who’s there?” Killian called out as more prickles of unease crept over his skin and up his spine. “Storybrooke PD! Identify yourself!”

Movement flickered in his periphery and the quick succession of snapping twigs alerted him to someone fleeing the scene.

“Halt!” he yelled out while in hot pursuit with his gun drawn. “Storybrooke PD, I demand you stop and identify yourself!”

Barely able to keep pace, Killian chased after the suspect. His attempt to call in the incident over the radio on his shoulder had been met with static as he was clearly too far out of range. Not wishing to lose the perp, he did not want to risk digging his phone from his pocket, lest it slow him down. The pursuit lasted for an agonizing length of time, drawing Killian deeper and deeper into the woods, his legs burning and his lungs screaming from the extreme exertion.

He finally stopped after bursting into a clearing, biting back curses under his heaving breaths for having lost sight of the suspect. Holstering his weapon, he doubled over with his hands on his knees in an attempt to catch his breath. A painful stitch began to form at his side and sweat from his forehead threatened to blur his vision.

The snap of a branch was the only warning he had before something solid collided with him, knocking him to the ground. Inhuman snarls and the gnashing of teeth curdled Killian’s blood even before he caught sight of the monstrous wesen he was currently trying to fight off with all his might.

Blutbad. The Big, Bad Wolf. In full woge and ready to tear Killian’s throat out.

With his left forearm braced against the beast’s neck in an attempt to keep its canines from getting any closer, Killian reached down to try and retrieve his gun. Searing pain ripped through his arm. The blutbad had chosen to sink its teeth into the nearest bit of flesh he could get to, and Killian screamed as the bite turned to tearing. A shot went off, startling the creature and forcing him to release his prey, and it took Killian a moment to realize he had fired the weapon while in the throes of agony. Nearly blinded by the pain, Killian sat up and took aim at the fleeing blutbad, but could not manage to get another shot off before it disappeared into the trees. Shakily, he got to his feet, a howl in the distance making his blood run cold and causing his entire body to shake.

He had to get out of the woods. He had to call for back-up. He had to…

Stumbling, he headed back towards his cruiser. At least… he thought he was heading that direction. Brambles and branches scraped against his face and caught on his uniform while everything around him turned hazy. Off to his left he could see the flicker of a campfire. No. That wasn’t right. There were no campsites in this part of the forest, only hiking trails with strict policies regarding nighttime use. He headed towards the flames anyway and had to shield his eyes when he got closer, the light practically blinding him.

“Is anyone… is anyone there?” he called out, weakly, even as his other senses were being assaulted. He could smell a pungent mix of ingredients but had not the knowledge to identify them. There had been a grating sound of stone scrapping stone that had stopped when he’d entered the site, and it had been followed by a gasp that he was certain had meant to be soft and nearly silent, yet it had rang clearly in his ears.

Unable to hold himself up, Killian collapsed to the ground, his entire body shaking violently and causing his teeth to chatter together. Footfalls pounded against the ground like a drumline and he managed to pry his eyes open in time to see a woman rushing to his side.

“H-Help,” he pleaded. His arm was still on fire from the pain while his body was wracked by chills. When the women bent over him, he was certain he was starting to become delirious as well. What other explanation could there be for an angel to appear to him?

“What happened?” she asked, looking him over. “Were you--”

“Attacked,” he choked out, lifting his arm so she could see his wound.

Peeling back the torn remains of his uniform, she examined the bite mark and her face grew pale and pensive.

“Oh, no,” she murmured.

Quickly, she stood and rushed back to where she’d come from. Killian tilted his head backward to try and keep his eyes on her, not wanting to let her out of his sight for several reasons. The scraping sound returned as she began to grind something with her mortar and pestle and though he could not decipher the words, he could hear them slip from her lips in a chant. Blackness began to creep from the corners of his vision, but not before he saw an unnatural shimmer erupt from beneath her skin. The last coherent thought he had before slipping into oblivion was that she must be an angel, because witches did not possess such beauty when they woged.

Quite the opposite really.

~/~

His body was stiff, his clothes soaked through from sweat, causing him to shiver. Attempting to pry his eyes open he coughed past the cottony feel lining his mouth and throat, then groaned when he began to shift positions.

“Don’t sit up too fast,” a soft, feminine voice warned him.

A hand pressed against his chest and the padding of whatever he was laying on dipped. Blinking, he tried to focus his vision, but had to clamp his eyes shut again when the soft lighting of the room blinded him.

“Bloody hell, that’s bright!”

“Oh, right!” the woman said. He could feel the bedding move as she did, and the room dimmed behind his eyelids. “There,” she said a bit further away now. “That should be better.”

Forcing his eyes open, he winced in anticipation. Fortunately, the lighting was easier on his vision now, so he took the opportunity to survey his surroundings. Bottles and canisters filled wooden shelves of deeply stained and aged cases that lined the long walls of the room. There was a massive workbench in the center of the space with a door at the far end. Behind him was a large, curtained window that overlooked the street. He could hear the occasional car and sounds of the city beyond. Beside him was a cased opening that led out to another space. Some sort of shop, by the looks of it. Spices and aromatics danced on his tongue and made his sinuses flare and itch.

Achoo!

“Bless you,” the voice said from the shadows next to the opening, and the blond angel from the forest emerged with a wary, yet concerned expression.

“You,” Killian said in a scratchy and unfamiliar voice. He tried to clear his throat, but it was too dry. Undeterred, he said, “You’re the woman from the woods. The hex, uh… hexen…” He cursed himself for not being able to remember the wesen term for witch.

“A hexenbeist?” she supplied with a tone of surprise.

“Aye!” Killian replied a little too enthusiastically, erupting into a fit of coughs.

Her expression and posture still guarded, she took a few steps towards him, assessing him with her brilliant green eyes. “You know about… us?” she said. “Wesen?”

“Aye,” he replied in a tone of gravel.

“How?”

Again, Killian tried to clear his throat, but he seemed incapable of producing any saliva.

“Could I trouble you for some water?”

The request snapped her out of her wary, slightly accusatory stance, and she quickly made her way to a small fridge at the back of the room. Killian considered his answer carefully as she grabbed a water bottle and brought it back to him, giving himself a few extra seconds to craft his response as he slowly sipped the water and coaxed moisture back into his throat, knowing she’d likely ask him again…

“So, how do you know about wesen?”

“I, uh…” he began, working through a few more coughs and deciding that something close to the truth would be best. “I had the misfortune of being fostered by a family of klaustreichs after my parents died. The son took great pleasure in tormenting me with his woged state.” His brows knit together and he cocked his head to the side as he glanced up at her. “How did you know I wasn’t just wesen myself?”

The pinched look of concern returned to her features and her gaze slipped from his down to his bandaged arm. “Because of that,” she told him. “If you were wesen then it wouldn’t have…”

She turned and grabbed one of the chairs resting against the wall. Bringing it over, she set it next to the bed then lowered herself onto the seat with a resolved and resigned sigh.

“You knowing about wesen is going to make this a little easier to explain, but it by no means is going to make it easier to accept.”

“Make what easier to accept?” Killian asked with a sense of dread.

“Do you know what attacked you tonight?” she asked.

“Aye.” Killian nodded. “A blutbad. In full woge.”

She shifted uncomfortably, causing the chair to creak annoyingly in his ears. “And do you know the significance of him being in full woge during the full moon?”

“I, uh…” Frantically, Killian searched his memory for any knowledge regarding blutbaden and the full moon. He couldn’t seem to concentrate over the pounding of his heart and ripples of anxiety coursing through him, though.

Perhaps sensing his distress, or simply wishing to deliver the blow with a measure of comfort, the woman took Killian’s hand and asked, “What do you know about lycanthropes? Werewolves?”

Killian shot off the bed with an unnatural speed and agility, forcing the woman from her chair and causing her to skitter back several steps. Her hands, raised protectively in front of her, were illuminated with a soft glow that seemed to originate from her palms. Killian lifted his own in supplication, an apology slipping from his lips.

“Sorry, love. I just…”

I can’t be, he thought with chaos and hysteria threatening to overtake him. I can’t be a lycanthrope. Liam kills lycanthropes.

Shaking the thought from his head, Killian swallowed hard and fixed his attention back onto the wary woman.

“Apologies,” he began again. “I don’t know how I… I’m not sure what--”

“It’s okay,” she assured him, lowering her hands as she took measured steps towards the workbench. “I can only imagine how much of a shock this is.” She braced her hands against the top of the table, an old, worn book laying open between them. “According to this, you're going to feel the effects of the change immediately. So, it’s only natural that you--”

“The change?” Killian croaked out. “You mean… becoming a werewolf? I’m a… Are you saying, that thing has turned me into a…”

“Yes.”

Something about her direct yet compassionate tone eased the hysteria threatening to overtake him. Releasing a heavy breath, he ran his hand through his hair, tugging on the strands at the back, before dropping his hand to his chest where he pressed against the thundering in his ribcage.

The sound of the book sliding across the table pulled his attention back to the woman. Her expression beckoned him forward as she propped herself onto one of the stools that had been tucked under the work surface. Slowly, he shuffled forward until he stood hovering over the open pages of the book. He was struck by the similarities it held to the journals and manuscripts he’d been forced to study in his youth, with hand sketched illustrations and captions that had been translated into a myriad of languages.

“Not all blutbaden can create a lycanthrope,” she told him. Reaching over, she gestured to a section of text. He read without comprehending, his mind still racing. Fortunately, she paraphrased it for him.

“Lycanthropes, or more commonly known as werewolves, are created by blutbaden with a specific genetic mutation. The blutbad essentially goes off the rails during the full moon, and if they bite a human, and the human lives, they transfer some of their wesen characteristics to them.”

“Which characteristics?” Killian asked, even though he already had a pretty good idea.

“Your senses will be heightened. Sight, sound, smell. You’ll notice an increase in them in your day to day life, but they’ll be on overdrive, like they are now, during the full moon.”

“Will I…” he paused, swallowing back the bile working its way up his throat. “Will I… transform? Woge?”

“According to this, you’ll only be capable of woging during the full moon. I don’t think you’ll see other wesen woge outside of that time frame either.” Bringing the book back towards her, she turned the page and added, “Basically, everything is intensified during the full moon. Your senses, your mood and emotions, your abilities. You’ll be stronger, faster, have greater endurance and stamina, but will also be prone to volatile reactions. Your temper will be shorter. You’ll likely be more aggressive.”

“Violent, you mean.”

“Maybe,” she replied. “Aggression doesn’t have to turn into violence. You’ll just be more…”

“Like a powder keg.”

Hesitantly, she placed her hand in his, causing his eyes to flick up to hers.

“I can help with that.”

Relief and hope filled him and he gripped her hand in his. “You can… you can reverse this? You can cure me?”

She squeezed his hand and her expression effectively burst the elated bubble that had formed in his chest. “There’s nothing I can do to make you human again,” she said, remorsefully. “But there is something I can do to help mitigate the symptoms and keep you from falling prey to the worst of the condition.”

His shoulders slumped and he took a moment to come to terms with his new reality. He was no longer human. From this point forward his life would never be the same. It was like losing his parents all over again. Like losing Liam to the calling and duty of being a Grimm. He already hid so much of himself from those closest to him. From Will. From Robin. Now he would have to hide away these parts of himself from Liam. From Nemo. No one could ever know the fullness of who he was. The true him.

He wasn’t even sure if he knew who he was.

Bringing himself back to the here and now, Killian pulled his hand from the woman’s grip and asked, “What do you mean? How can you help me with… all of this?”

Again, she turned their focus back to the book. “Wolfsbane is a plant known for its uses against blutbad,” she told him. “It can hide one’s scent from them. It can also subdue them if they ingest it in great quantities.” Her eyes fell to where his arm was bandaged. “I made a paste of it and other herbs to apply to the bite so your transition would be less… intense, and it appears there is a tonic you can take at the outset of each full moon that can help minimize the effects of the cycle.”

Turning the pages again, she gestured towards a list of ingredients as well as a recipe for the tonic.

“There isn’t much here about the tonic’s effectiveness or what side effects it might have, so it would probably be best if we plan for you to just stay with me during the next full moon so I can keep tabs on you. See how it makes you react.”

Before he could even comprehend what he was doing, Killian moved into the woman’s personal space and wound a section of her hair through his fingers, his eyes hooded in a smolder and sultry tone dancing on his tongue as he cheeked, “If you wish to spend time cooped up together, love, just say so. No need to stand on ceremony.”

The widening of her eyes and sharp gasp falling from her lips made him balk and stumble back.

“I’m sorry, lass. I…” Forcibly shaking himself he took a tentative step back and declared, “I have no idea where that came from. Please forgive my…”

“It’s okay,” she said in an amused tone, waving off his apology.

“It is?” he replied, incredulously.

“I mean,” she continued, “I understand where it came from.”

“You do?”

She hummed, affirmatively, and explained, “It’s a blutbad trait. Using flirtation, charm, and guile to disarm their prey or throw off their rivals.” Turning the page again, his eyes fell to an excerpt he vaguely recognized from the Red Riding Hood tale. “How do you think the big, bad wolf charmed his way into the grandmother’s house after ingratiating himself with Little Red?”

“I don’t see you as prey,” he said in the hopes of assuring her, even as something within him wanted to counter the statement.

“Of course you do,” she said with a shrug. “I’m an attractive woman all alone with you.” Wetting her lips (which absolutely did not have his pulse rate ticking up and his uniform trousers tightening), she swallowed and cleared her throat before adding, “Some part of you is provoked by that and your new wesen side, being severely heightened, became overly stimulated by it. Hence the inappropriate proposition.”

“I swear you have nothing to fear from me, lass,” Killian vowed. “You’ve done me a great service and the last thing I would ever wish to do is--”

“I know,” she assured him. “I told you. It’s okay.”

Killian exhaled a shaky breath and a thought occurred to him. “Why are you so keen to help me? Not that I’m not grateful. It’s just… you don’t even know me.”

“I know you didn’t ask for this,” she said. “I know, being a cop, that you're a man who likely just wants to help people and that you were just out there trying to do your job.” Her demeanor, which up to this point had been a mixture of confidence, toughness, and candor with an undercurrent of compassion, shifted to one of vulnerability. “Also,” she began in a quiet voice. “The truth is… I’m not a natural wesen either. I’m a gemacht, a made wesen. I’m not… I’m not entirely accepted by others of my kind. By the covens. So I guess…”

“You have an understanding of what I’m going through and what I’ll face.”

Straightening her shoulders, her resilient bearing returned. “No one should have to go through this alone,” she told him while opening a drawer and taking out a small card and pen. “So, take this,” she said, handing him the card after she’d jotted something down. “It’s my business card for the shop, with my personal number on the back. Feel free to call or come by any time.”

Killian took the card from her hand, his fingers brushing against hers which sent a ripple up both their arms. He ignored the physical proof of their mutual attraction, just as he had been ignoring the growing chemistry during their entire encounter, and focused his attention on the card.

Swan Spice and Tea

Emma Swan, proprietor

“Thank you, Swan,” he said, tucking the card into his pocket. “I’ll be in touch about that tonic and we can make a plan for the next full moon.”

“That sounds good, Officer Jones.”

Killian cocked his head quizzically to one side, prompting her to nod towards his uniform.

“It’s on your name badge,” she reminded him. “K. Jones?”

“Right,” he said, reaching up and sheepishly pawing at a patch of skin behind his ear before extending his hand towards her. “Killian Jones. A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Swan.”

“Likewise,” she said, placing her hand in his and offering him a soft smile.

They stood there for the span of a few erratic beats of his heart, and it took every ounce of willpower he possessed to not pull her into his arms. She was stunning, with her creamy skin and golden tresses. Even in the low light he could make out the splashes of freckles across her nose and shimmer of gold flecks in her captivating green eyes. Although smaller in stature, there was nothing weak or feeble about her form, even in the softest places. A form he found rather alluring, from the shape of her curves to the swell of her breasts. The way her hair flowed over her shoulders. The way her breath hitched when he skimmed his thumb over the pulse point on her wrist. The way she wet her plump, pink lips with a soft swipe of her tongue.

The way her skin glowed with an ethereal light that suddenly turned blinding.

“Bloody hell!” Killian cursed, wrenching his hand from hers so he could cover his eyes.

“Sorry,” she said with a note of contrition. “But you were… doing it again.”

“Doing what?” he huffed against the irritation spiking through him. Blinking hard, it took a few seconds for his vision to focus. When his sight finally adjusted, he found her several steps away with an amused smirk playing at her lips.

“Eyeing me as though you’d like to make a meal out of me,” she said matter-of-factly, yet without any hint of admonishment or fear.

Killian cursed under his breath. He’d developed something of a reputation in college: lady’s man, player, rake, charming bastard, scoundrel. In the years that followed, he’d done his best to put his womanizing ways behind him, choosing instead to use his looks and natural charm to his advantage as a cop when it came to comforting victims or disarming perps. So, while his current behavior was something out of character to who he had fought to become, he was certainly no stranger to this emerging personality the newly bred wesen side of him was cultivating.

“It’ll get easier to control,” she assured him. “Remember, these traits will be strongest during the full moon, and just as the paste is helping to lessen them now, the tonic should help you keep a rein on things going forward.” Closing the book, she skimmed her fingers over the cover and pulled her bottom lip between her teeth before glancing over at him once more and suggesting, “Although, it might be a good idea, as much as you are capable, to limit your contact with people during that time. I don’t know how feasible it would be for you to take those days off from work, but avoiding high stress, high confrontational situations would probably be a good idea until you’re better equipped to--”

“Aye,” he said in agreement, running his hand through his hair again. “A wise suggestion.”

He shuddered at the thought of losing control of himself at work, surrounded by his fellow officers. His fellow armed officers.

The desire to make detective was now about so much more than his own personal pride and sense of accomplishment. As a detective, he’d have greater say over his schedule. Until then, he may have to slack off on his paperwork and use the days of the full moon to isolate himself in one of the private offices in order to “catch up” on his reports.

“I’m sure I can work something out,” he told her.

“Fortunately,” she said, jutting her chin towards the window and the soft, pre-dawn glow that was beginning to creep through the gap in the curtains. “This was the last night of this full moon cycle, so you should be okay once the sun is up.”

Killian’s heart thudded hard in his rib cage and panic swept through his bloodstream. “Bloody hell! What time is it?” he frantically patted his pockets in search of his phone. How long had he been gone? Who knew he was missing? He had to get back to the woods. His cruiser was still there. At the crime scene.

The crime scene.

The body of the hiker.

The blutbad who’d attacked him was a killer.

He needed to find him and--

“Whoa! Slow down,” Swan urged, grabbing onto his forearms and giving him a slight shake. “Your phone is on the table next to the cot. I don’t think anyone is aware of anything being wrong. You have no missed calls or texts.”

Killian balked. Had he said all of that out loud?

Releasing him, she grabbed his phone from where it had been laying and along with it, his keys. “Your cruiser is in the alley out back,” she told him, gesturing towards the backdoor at the far end of the room.

“You… You drove it here?”

A sheepish expression scrunched through her features as she confessed, “Actually. My brother did. It took some convincing, but he finally agreed to go get it after I got you back here.”

“Your brother? You’ve a… is he… is he wesen also?”

“He is,” she confided. “He’s a leschen.”

Killian’s ignorance must have been apparent in the pull of his brows and tilt of his head.

“They’re sort of… tree-like, wooden wesen.”

“And he took some convincing because…?”

“Because you’re a cop,” she confessed. “He’s been on the wrong side of the law a few times. Nothing violent,” she added quickly. “Just… maybe do me a favor and don’t have your car fingerprinted?”

“I suppose,” he conceded, “Given the circumstances. I can overlook your brother’s involvement in this evening's events.”

“I appreciate that,” she said on a relieved breath and with a soft, weary smile.

The side of him he was beginning to identify as the wolf caused him to feel torn about leaving. The longing he felt to stay, the primal, proprietary drive that kept creeping up within him as he remained in her presence was one he could now discern, and though not quite as overwhelming as it had been before, was still very much present.

“I should go,” he choked out with conviction, subduing the beast. “It’s late. Or rather… early?”

“Right,” Swan replied, wetting her lips and guiding him towards the back door. “We’ve both had a long night and could definitely use some rest.”

For the first time since he awoke in her spice shop, Killian was struck with curiosity as to what she had been doing in the woods when he’d stumbled upon her. It was clear from the way she swung open the door, revealing his cruiser parked in the alleyway, and issuing her farewells with a stifled yawn that it would be a question he’d have to leave for another time.

“Remember,” she called out before he could slip behind the wheel. “I’m here if you need anything.”

“Aye, Swan. Thanks. Thank you for everything,” he replied with a deep, rich sincerity in his tone. “I’ll be in touch.”

“See you at the next full moon?”

“Aye,” he promised. “See you at the next full moon.”

Chapter One

[ketchupbananas]

EDIT: I learned how to make cuts. Sorry if I annoyed y'all by having to scroll through my yapping!

this is my gravity falls rockstar au! tarot card reader/psychic somehow knew about this and said I should post it so here we fucking gooo

Basically, it's a Gravity falls BillFord/billfiddlesford/fiddlestan au where instead of having a passion in physics/science etc.. ford has a passion in music!!?

- Instead of journals there will be documentaries/vlogs that they filmed for fans, which became lost media + everyone forgot about. (possibly due to fiddlefords memory gun?) they also have hidden messages. dipper found the 3rd VHS tape of ford and bills documentaries/vlogs (not sure about this take) dipper also has a passion in music but ofc he gets made fun of about it :(

- Bill comes to him in the form of unpopular/lost media music, and gradually is basically giving him instructions on how to build the portal, only for Ford to find out about the true intentions when he gets sucked inside it

- bills music is hypnotising people to worship him and that's how they got popular quickly to prepare for weirdmaggedon

- During the making of the portal with the help of fiddleford, bill makes a contract with ford to help him make music and achieve his dreams.

- They make alternative music

- Bill shapeshifts to a human form while in public to not cause any panic.

-Fiddleford later joined the band but doesn't know about bills "true form" so bill has to shapeshift everytime he's around.

- This bill is actually a little less toxic than canon, but he still can get controlling/angry when things don't go according to plan. This was a reason why the band broke up.

- Stanford and Stanley are still in touch, and Stanley visited him and fiddleford at the shack one day. But stanford is so mentally and physically exhausted from making music 24/7 + demanding fans that they get into an argument about his mental health. Fiddleford agrees with Stanley.

While they're arguing, Stanley bumps into a button, Powering the portal on, and sucking Ford in. Stanley nearly gets sucked in, but thanks to fiddleford holding onto him, he doesn't.

Ford: Makes mostly weezer and tally hall style music with some little lemon demon styled tones because of his fondness with weirdness. mainly plays keyboard/piano but also can play the guitar and sings in some songs, mostly together with bill even tho he gets shy/nervous, bill convinced him to do a duet (hes not a fruit..he's THE WHOLE FRUIT FARM)

Bill: makes The Waitress + miracle musical styled music. Wrote most songs. Writes confusing/weird lyrics but the instrumental is designed by him to distract from the meaning of the lyrics. Also slight reverse messages sneaked in ;) He is main singer and also plays an electric guitar (conveniently shaped like a triangle)

Fiddleford: Fiddleford plays guitar, and he sang in a few songs. Joined when ford asked him AGAIN for help for their first concert for mechanical stuff like lights, speakers etc (yes, fiddleford did all the techy stuff by himself with little to no help. Poor fiddleford..)

- fiddleford while watching them do their concert realised he had a passion to be on the stage and asked them to join. Bill said no at first to keep things in his control, but ford convinced him by saying it would be really good for the band since fiddle plays a banjo a lot, so he has a lot of musical experience.

- Bill is getting jealous of ford and fiddleford being the two most popular. (HE GOT REALLY F-KING JEALOUS WHEN THE FANGIRLS STARTED SHIPPING FORD AND FIDDLEFORD..)the fandom mostly left bill out despite the hypnotising factors, since the hypnotising worked for the whole band rather than just him, since he wanted ford to lead weirdmaggedon with him.. aw..

Band Logo:

that's all I have for now! PS. I WOULD LOVE TO SEE FANART OF THIS YOU HAVE MY FULL PERMISSIONS. and tag me in it bc i would love to see it!! :D

[certifiedcallahanstan]

The memoir of a horny fangirl

chapter 2

Warnings: This is a pretty heavy chapter, it shows a really vulnerable side to Hazel and the shitty side of the reader. I had to get this chapter done, so the rest can be lighter and more *spicy*. The next chapter will get back to baseball hazel!!

This chapter contains: sa

It’s been a couple days since you had received the picture and you know you shouldn’t be upset, Hazel is a grown woman and is allowed to kiss whomever she wants, it’s not like you two are together anyways. That however doesn’t stop you from trying to avoid her.

P.J invites you to the coffee shop with Josie and Brittany to do quote on quote “studying” which really means she wants to talk to you all about her latest hook up.

Despite your initial reluctance, you find yourself getting caught up in the conversation.

“and i mean it wasn’t a fucking normal sized strap, that shit was like- fucking xxl” P.J moves her hands at least a feet apart from eachother trying to demonstrate the size and josie scrunches up her nose.

“I don’t need to hear that P.J, you keep that to yourself” she huffs and you cover your mouth trying to stop a laugh from escaping.

For a brief moment, the weight of your emotions regarding Hazel and the photo fade into the background as you lose yourself in the conversation until eventually Brittany convinces everyone that we should probably study.

You pull out your notes adorned with doodles of different sea creatures and facts about them when you hear a familiar voice approach the table.

“Hey guys” the voice that belongs to the shaggy brunette starts “Josie told me you all were studying and that..” she looks at her phone reading the text “We are about to kill P.J, please come before one of us commits a felony”

P.J just responds with a huff a mutters something along the lines of “you all are just mad i get more hoes” as Hazel pulls out a chair and joins the group.

You scoot slightly more away from Hazel hoping nobody will notice. unfortunately these chairs are millenniums old and makes and obnoxious screeching noise

You cringe inwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment creep up your cheeks as all eyes turn in your direction.

Hazel's gaze flickers briefly in your direction, her brow furrowing in confusion at the sudden noise.

"Sorry about that," you mumble, offering a sheepish smile as you try to play off the noise. "These chairs are... uh, not the most cooperative."

Everyone seems to accept that excuse as they get back to their previous tasks. You start shading in the sea creature you were previously drawing in your journal when you feel P.J looming over you.

“what the fuck knuckles is that” she says as she points at your drawing

you look down at a your notebook where you had draw what looks like a eel-shark hybrid

“it’s called a frilled shark” you start explaining as all eyes look at you “they get their name from the frilly appearance of their gill sets. In fact they’re one of the few sharks that eat their prey whole…”

You trail off awkwardly, realizing that you may have gone a bit overboard with your explanation when you see everyone blankly staring at you. Clearing your throat, you try to steer the conversation back on track.

"Anyway, um... yeah, it's just a cool creature I thought I'd draw," you finish lamely

“I think it’s sick”

you turn your head to the voice and see Hazel smiling at you “i mean a shark that moves like an eel?”

"Yeah, exactly!" you respond, a smile spreading across your face as you meet Hazel's gaze. "It's pretty fascinating how they've adapted to their environment."

fuck why does she have to be so damn irresistible.

your thoughts are cut off by the slamming of a text book and you see Brittany getting up “my brain feels all mushy, im going home to take a nap”

Josie nods, putting her computer in her back pack “i should probably get back to Isabel” and P.J mutters something about going to “fuck then duck” whatever that means.

Soon enough it’s just you and Hazel, you try to ignore the tension, but damn it’s so thick you could cut it with a knife.

For a moment, neither of you speaks, the silence stretching between you as you both seem lost in your own thoughts. You fidget nervously, unsure of what to say.

Finally, Hazel clears her throat, breaking the silence with a hesitant smile. "So... um, how have you been?" she asks, her voice soft and tentative.

You swallow, trying to push aside the swirling emotions that threaten to overwhelm you. "I've been okay," you reply, your voice slightly strained. "Just... you know, trying to stay busy with school and stuff."

and not making out with random red heads and getting chlamydia you add in your head.

Hazel nods, her gaze flickering briefly as she seems to search for the right words. "Yeah, I get that," she says quietly “hey um..have you been avoiding me? i’ve tried to text you but you haven’t answered and everytime i try to come up to you you walk the opposite direction”

your jaw clenches as you start putting everything in your shark printed back pack “what reason would i have to avoid you Hazel” your voice tinged with frustration and hurt.

she runs her ringed fingers through her hair and you try not to notice the prominent veins “that’s what i’m trying to figure out, did i do something?”

“not everything is about you callahan” you grunt out as you try to gather all your loose papers

“here let me help-“

“i don’t need your help” you shove her arm away and in the process her hand hits an open water bottle spilling water all over your notebook. the notebooks that has three years worth of research in it

A sense of panic washes over you as you scramble to salvage what you can, frantically wiping at the water with trembling hands. Hazel watches helplessly, her expression a mixture of concern and regret.

"I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I didn't mean to... I was just trying to..."

You cut her off with a sharp gesture, your own frustration boiling over as you struggle to contain your emotions. "Just... leave me alone, Hazel," you mutter, your voice thick with emotion.

she steps back as her eyebrows knit together “this wouldn’t have happened if you just let me help. Maybe instead of pushing people away talk to them”

You can see the hurt etched in her features, and for a moment, you feel a pang of guilt tug at your conscience.

"I'm sorry, I just..." you begin, your voice catching in your throat as tears threaten to spill from your eyes. With a heavy sigh, you toss your notebook into the trash and sling your backpack over your shoulder

"I have to go," you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper as you turn away, unable to face Hazel in that moment. With each step you take, the distance between you and Hazel grows, the ache of regret gnawing at your heart.

Hazel just presses her lips together and nods before you see the same red head from the photo calling her name in an annoying high pitched voice.

You watch in silence as Hazel hesitates, her eyes briefly searching yours for any sign of a response. Before you can gather your thoughts, she turns away, putting on a fake smile as the red-headed girl approaches.

"What's up, Becca?" she says, her tone polite but strained, the artificiality of her smile not escaping your notice.

you turn away, knowing that it's not your place to intervene in Hazel's personal life. And also if you stayed there someone would be getting punched in the face, and here’s a hint. it wasn’t going to be you.

—————————————

“Did you say sorry at least?” Isabel ask as you lay upside down on her bed, letting the blood flow rush to your head to try to forget about what Josie now calls “they great water incident” that happened last week

"Yeah, I did," you reply with a sigh, your voice muffled from your upside-down position. “kinda.. i dunno. I mean you should’ve seen the way that becky, bexar, what ever the fuck her name is held onto her”

P.J shoves a handful of chips into her mouth and shrugs “i say kill the bitch”

Josie tosses a pillow at her face and huffs “We already have one murderous charge against us, we don’t need another”

Isabel nods in agreement. "Exactly. We'll figure this out without resorting to murder,"

“fine” P.J huffs holding her hands in the air “but just know that i know people”

“mhmm” you hum as you launch yourself back into an upright position on the bed stealing chips from P.J’s bowl.

As the group starts debating whether han solo or darth vader would be better in bed, you can’t help but wonder at this exact moment what hazel is doing.

——————————————

Hazel sits on her bed in her apartment talking about how the frilled shark can unhinge their jaw and eat prey at least twice their size as the red head sits and stares at her.

Hazel has never been one for social cues, she sincerely honestly thought that Rebecca just needed a friend, and sure they made out at the party but in her defense her face looked similar to yours in the midst of her 6 shots.

So here they are in Hazels apartment, Hazel blabbering about the eel-shark abomination (that she most definitely didn’t spend five hours researching after finding out about it)

“Rebecca? did you hear what i said” she stops and tilts her head with wide eyes

Rebecca nods and turns to Hazel “mhm- yeah the shark is like- long or some shit”

“you seem distracted” the brunette mutters “and it’s not called a long shark it’s called a frilled shark because-“ her sentence is interrupted when she hears Rebecca let out a drawn out sigh and move closer to Hazel.

“Yeah that’s kinda gross Hazey and i’m bored so how about we have some fun…”

“i don’t know what you mean-“ hazel starts before the girl lifts her shirt off and suddenly Hazel realizes why this girl has been being so nice to her.

"I... I don't think that's a good idea," Hazel stammers, her voice tinged with unease as she shifts uncomfortably on the bed.

“come on baby” Rebecca whines as she crawls into an unwilling Hazels lap “I’ve heard how good you are in bed”

And it’s true, Hazel was amazing in bed and she has had her fair share of hookups, but usually she knows about them before.

"Rebecca, I... I really don't think this is a good idea," Hazel insists, her voice shaky as she gently tries to push Rebecca away. "I'm not interested in anything like that right now."

“shhh” Rebecca whispers out as she slams her lips against Hazels and suddenly everything seems too much, Rebecca’s lips are wet, the lights are too bright, the AC is too loud. Panic grips her as she struggles to push Rebecca away, her thoughts a jumble of fear and confusion.

"Stop," Hazel manages to choke out, her voice barely audible over the rush of blood in her ears. She pushes against Rebecca's chest with all her strength, her heart pounding with urgency.

Rebecca pulls back, frustration evident on her face. "What's wrong?" she demands, her voice tinged with irritation.

Hazel's chest heaves as she tries to catch her breath, her mind reeling with a flood of emotions. "I... I told you to stop," she says, her voice trembling

Rebecca's expression darkens, her features contorted with anger as she takes a step forward. "You're just playing hard to get,"

Hazel manages to push Rebecca off her lap and quickly stands up, putting some distance between them.

"I think it's best if you leave," she says firmly, her voice trembling slightly with the effort to maintain composure.

With a frustrated huff, Rebecca storms out of the room, leaving Hazel alone with her racing thoughts and pounding heart. As she sinks onto the bed she grabs her phone with shakey hands and presses your contact then the call button.

“Hey what’s up” your voice bellows out from Hazels phone

“Hey i don’t know what-“

“HAHA JK this is my voice mail, leave a message or don’t i don’t care” your voice interrupts and Hazel can’t help the tears that fall down her face

“Hey..i don’t know if you’ll see this but Rebecca was here and i thought we were just friends, i mean i know i kissed her but i was drunk and..anyways we were talking and-“ Hazels voice cracks “-and she climbed on me and i told her to get off but she didn’t and- and she kissed me and maybe it’s my fault but..i don’t know what the point of calling you is because i’m pretty sure you hate me. I dunno, i just needed to tell someone.”

She presses the hang up button and brings her knees to her chest letting out a sob. How could she have been so stupid? Flash backs of when her dad would buy her these new suits and buttons up because he knew you hated dresses, but then make her get dressed in front of him flashed back into her mind.

Despite her best efforts to push those memories aside, they continue to haunt her, casting a shadow over her as she cries herself eventually to sleep.

———————————

it’s not until two days later that you see the voice mail, you’re sitting in your biology class with your airpod in when you click the play button.

“What the fuck?!” you blurt out when it finishes and suddenly all eyes are on you.

You smile sheepishly as you gather all of your belongings and rush out of the classroom calling P.J

after three rings she answers with a “I’m talking to this really hot chick so this better be important”

“You remember when we said that we weren’t going to kill anyone anymore”

P.J hums “well YOU ALL said that, i never actually agreed to it”

“Yeah well…it’s time for some killing..or at least seriously maiming”

as you explained the situation to P.J, the last thing she said before she hung up was

“let’s go kick some leprechaun ass”

————————————

Okay so YOU didn’t kick some leprechaun ass, P.J insisted she could take Rebecca herself and you assuming it went well because as you were driving (well over the speed limit) to Hazels house you receive a message from P.J saying “i’m like 75% sure she’s still alive, anyways if police come questioning you, say a rabid bear attacked her”

You chose not to question her further.

You get to Hazels house and you take a deep breath, you’ve never been good at comforting people, usually you just pat their back and give them water. You assume that probably won’t work for this situation .

Taking a deep breath, you exit your car and make your way to Hazel's apartment. Each step feels heavier than the last, the weight of the situation bearing down on you with each passing moment.

you knock on the door three times fast, two slow, that was your signature knock for her since middle school. As the door swings open, you're greeted by the sight of Hazel, her eyes red-rimmed from tears. Without a word, you pull her into a tight embrace, holding her close.

“y-you came-“ Hazel mutters out as you pull away and she wipes her eyes

“yeah of course haze, im sorry i didn’t see the voice mail till today”

Hazel nods, her expression grateful as she steps back, allowing you to enter her apartment. As you settle into the living room, Hazel gestures for you to take a seat on the couch beside her. You can sense her hesitancy, so you squeeze her hand and softly smile.

“you can talk to me about whatever, you know that right haze?”

Hazel meets your gaze, her eyes reflecting a mixture of emotions—vulnerability, fear, and a glimmer of hope. With a shaky breath, she begins to recount the events of that night, pouring out her heart and soul to you.

And all you saw was fucking red. How the fuck could someone do this to her Hazel, her sweet, beautiful, funny Hazel?

Your heart pounds in your chest as Hazel's words sink in, each one feeling like a blow to your own sense of justice. Anger simmers beneath the surface as you listen to the betrayal she endured, your grip on her hand tightening instinctively.

Taking a deep breath to steady yourself, you meet Hazel's gaze with determination burning in your eyes. "Hazel, I am so sorry that you had to go through that," you say, your voice firm but gentle. "But I promise you, we will get through this together. I won't let anyone hurt you like that again."

Hazel coughs out a laugh and looks at you with wet eyes “That’s supposed to be my line”

You smile softly at her response, a flicker of warmth spreading through your chest. "Well, consider it borrowed for now," you say, returning her gaze with sincerity. "Because I mean every word of it. I'm here for you, Hazel, no matter what."

In that moment, as you sit together in quiet solidarity, you know that your bond with Hazel runs deeper than words can express. And with that unspoken understanding, you both find solace in each other's presence.

[pines4thetwin]

RE; https://www.tumblr.com/pines4thetwin/766541554302222336/dipstan-dipford-implied-with-a-hint-of-stancest?source=share

Saw this post and for some reason it spiked the thought in me of both Dipper AND Mabel doing this (I think because I saw a post with a similar premise but with Mabel? You might've written it I dunno...)

And so it kinda spiked like. What if Mabel and Dipper try and hide that they're doing that from each other, until one (or both) of them get so bottled up with their thoughts they just randomly blurt it out, and both of them have a moment of "oh em gee, you too???"

Idk where else that could go but it was a silly thought and I wanted to share with someone, so. Idk hope you like this!! Even if you don't it was nice to get it out of my head :)

Ahhhh your brain!!!

Idk why i didnt think of this!?!?

I did in fact make a similar post about mabel with her writing fanfiction about stancest, getting a crush on them and peeping on em. (idk if thats the one youre refering to)

But i love this idea, dipper and mabel both sneaking tryna catch a glimpse of the grunks together, running into each other *spiderman pointing meme* but not realizing why the other is sneaking around.

Mabels writing poly fanfic of her and the grunks and Dips got his journal where he's writing all his filthy lil thoughts, not quite outright fanfic.

I dont know what would cause it but i can totally see mabel being like "omg i love them so much. Need those old men to sandwhich me. I need to be between them right now." Maybe she's writing her fanfic and just starts fujoing out loud and dips like "huh?" But it doesnt quite click yet. He assumes she's talking about some fictional men from whatever fandom is her current hyperfixation cause why whould he assume she's talking about the grunks.

I can see mabel as being slightly more laid back when shes not fangirling to herself while writing her fics. She's capable of being normal around the stans. But dippers is actually going insane, bro is zoning out staring at either of the grunks, definitely almost slips more then once and blurts out his feelings to them. He's just struggling for real.

He'd be the one to burst and end up revealing his feelings with mabel being "oh em gee, me too!!!" He's going on a full rant talking about its not fair and theyre old and gross or at least stan is. And mabel definitely protests at that because how dare he... stan is wonderful and amazing but dipper keeps ranting, not paying attention.

"He shouldnt be hot. I shouldnt think theyre hot. Whats wrong with me. Its not fair. Why'd i have to go and fall in love with both of them" And mabel would politely wait for him to finish his rant but he just keeps going and going and mabel slowly starts to get fed up so she grabs him by the shoulders and shakes him till he shuts up.

"Dip-dop." She'd say slowly, as if talking to an idiot. "Me too."

Dipper would tilt his head, eyes studying her in confusion as if trying to figure her out. "You... too?"

And shed give him a look because he's definitely smart enough to put it together instead of standing there staring at her like she has two heads. He'd get it after a moment.

"Ohhhhh! You toooooo!..... You too?!?" And then they'd talk about it. Mabel ranting about how great stan is and how hot both the grunks are and how she wants to be sandwiched between them. She'd definitely be more open about it. Dipper is hesitant at first. Its clear that he's more comfortable talking about his feelings for ford then he is with his feelings for stan.

Mabel would share her poly fics with him and offer to write some with dipper as their third and at first dipper just wants him x ford fics but eventually he caves and asks her to write him all types of poly stuff for him and the grunks. (And even some of him x stan)

He even shows her his filth journal so she can incorporate some of his fantasies (dont imagine them drawing ship fanart together sharing a hiding spot. Adding to the pile like they're penpals passing notes back and forth)

(And if you like pinecest too)

Mabel eventually starting to write pinesot4 fics and being hesitant to share them with dipper at first cause yeah she has always had a teeny crush on her nerdy twin but he's never indicated reciprocating those feelings and yeah they both have crushes on/are in love with the grunkles but this is different. This is them.

But then he goes all red and hesitantly kisses her. And now theyre sneaking around just as much as the stans are. She convinces him to dress up Mystery Mystery for her (like he did in that one ep) and they sometimes take turns roleplaying as the stans for each other. (Imagine one dressed up, role playing stan and the other as ford at the same time. Mabel would make all the jokes about double twincest. Twincest² if you will.)

Theyre still lil peepers but now they talk to each other about the things they catch glimpses of. Stan and ford kissing, cuddling on the couch, the secret little convos they have. They defintely do the silent eye contact twin telepatgy thing when they happen to catch the stans groping eachother on the sly.

Sometimes they just lay up at night, cuddled together (dipper is forsure little spooning lol) and talking about their feelings. Them talking about how they love seeing their grunkles together just as much as they love the idea of being between them or of all of them being together. Just talking about how amazing it would be if the four of them could share their love and falling asleep with their hands intertwined, wishing for something just outta reach.

Okay imma stop this here. Sryyyy for yapping i just love them soo much!!!

Ending with a customary: "Sorry if this isnt what you asked for, its all i got."

[anyamaris]

Winter Blooms

Word Count-3136

Pairing- Wooyoung x F!Reader

Trope-Neighbors to lovers au, fluff

Summary-Your relationship with your vacation home neighbor has been blooming over time, and perhaps there could be something much more than friendship growing between you.

Warnings-Mild adult language, mentions of food/cooking.

A/N-This is my submission for our CODN secret santa event and I am @daesukiii 's secret santa! -I hope you enjoy this and happy holidays! It was fun to write this, and I hope it's not too cheesy.

Tags-@ksmutsociety @cultofdionysusnet @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @yoonguurt @shinestarhwaa @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @starlitmark @millennial-fangirl @ericssmile @wooahaeproductions@changbinslovelylegs @yeosxxx @millennial-fangirl @starillusion13 @duchesskaren @minki-moo

@cafekitsune Thank you for banners and dividers! 🤍💜🤍

The first time you’d met, the sun had been high in the sky, and you’d been coming back from a trip to the store.  

You’ve been coming to your family's summer home since you were young, and as an adult it was the perfect place to escape.  Becoming an adult, dealing with college, then the mundane yet stressful life of your day job made this place like a small slice of heaven.

You’d rarely paid much attention to the other cottage down the lane, besides watching the people come and go through your youth.  The couple that periodically passed by eventually stopped showing up, then you’d heard that someone else had purchased the place.

It was in between semesters that you’d escaped from the constant pressure of life to come to the summer home.  Mid winter, the lake frozen over, there was a serenity that you’d never experienced during the sunny vacations you’d taken with your parents as a child.  

That was when you’d met Wooyoung.  

His young, boisterous demeanor greatly opposed your more quiet, timid attitude when it came to socializing.  He’d immediately waved as you drove past, and you couldn’t help but smile at how friendly he was despite being calf deep in snow while he shoveled his drive.  

Of course, you also couldn’t ignore the handsome face rosy with the cold under his knit hat.  When he’d knocked later that day to introduce himself, he was even more attractive up close.  

“Hello neighbor!  My name is Wooyoung, I wanted to stop by and say hello.  Do you come here often? I just moved in last year.” You couldn’t help but give him a soft smile as he held out his hand, introducing yourself in kind as you tried to cover a laugh.

“I..normally come in the summer.” Is all you offer and he just nods, sniffing from the frigid air as he adjusted his coat. 

“Well, it gets cold around here, so if you need anything, feel free to come ask!” He had said, giving you a dramatic wave as he jogged back down the road to his place.  

Despite the trip lasting only a mere four days, his presence was a constant comfort to you.  When you awoke the following morning, you’d been shocked to find him shoveling your drive as well, waving yet again when he spotted you before he disappeared back down the road when he finished.  

Normally, you keep to yourself when you are here, writing in your journal or busying yourself with drawing the winter landscape outside your large picture window in the front room.  

Memories of warm summer sunsets drawing the lake always made you smile, and curling up in some warm blankets with a mug of steamy hot chocolate made this experience cathartic.  The stresses of adulting were falling away like layers of dead skin, allowing you to feel cleansed of worry for the moment.  

So when summer came around again, you’d made another trip on your own.  Thoughts of a quiet, peaceful week danced in your mind as you drove to your cottage, and once more you caught sight of Wooyoung as you passed by.  

This time he was sweaty and dirty, but still smiling happily as he waved to you.  “Welcome back!” he called out as you drove by, and you couldn’t help but give him a small smile and a wave in return.  

His unexpected visit later also brought a smile to your face, as he walked down your drive holding a basket of something.  

“Hello!” He called out, beaming that bright smile of his.  “I brought you some vegetables from my garden.” He explained as he offered you the basket, catching you off guard.  

“Oh…thank you…” you had murmured, not knowing what else to say to your seemingly kind neighbor.  “I..don’t really have anything to offer you back…” 

He’d just waved his hand, laughing loudly at your comment.  “No need, I have plenty!  I really enjoy gardening so I thought I’d just share with you.  Feel free to come get more if you need anything!”  

Blushing at his thoughtfulness, you merely nodded, thanking him again before he had wandered back off to his own place.

And this is how it had gone, between semesters and on breaks, you’d made your way to your little piece of heaven to relax.  Time and time again, Wooyoung had stopped by, always dropping something off, never staying too long.  

You’d see him on your walks during the nicer seasons, always returning his happy waves as his face would light up at seeing you.  

He’d always nod and call to you when you were on your porch relaxing.  

In the colder seasons, he always stopped by to check to see if you needed anything, and your drive was always cleared out.  

He seemed to understand that you weren’t prone to talking much, but he always made a special effort with you that never crossed a line into pushing.  

Somewhere in that period between visiting during breaks at school, then moving into the working world, you slowly found yourself looking forward to his visits.  

Finding yourself smiling as he would appear and wave, giving you that bright, sunny smile of his.  You’d spend more time going for walks, or sitting on your porch, drawing or writing, peeking down the road every so often in the hopes to see him strolling over to say hello.

So finally, one summer evening when the sun was setting on one of your random visits, when he’d come walking over, you closed your journal, standing with a warm smile.  

“Wooyoung, it’s nice to see you.” You told him, as he’d bounced up the stairs to greet you happily.  

“It’s been awhile!” He exclaims, glancing at the journal you set beside you curiously.

“How’s your garden?” You had asked him and he began to tell you all about the vegetables and flowers he’d been growing.

“Do you have a favorite flower?” he’d asked.

“Hmm…I love alstroemeria, actually.” You told him and he beamed excitedly.  “Snapdragons also, they are very pretty.”

“I’ll have to check them out and see if I can add them to my garden!” 

“Well, only if they are something you like as well.  What else are you growing?” You’d asked.

Before you knew it, the sun had been setting and you blinked at how long you’d likely kept the poor man in conversation.  

You found yourself opening up to him the more you spoke, and sharing things about yourself.  

“You like to cook as well? And bake?!” He exclaimed, clapping his hands together in delight.  “I’ll make sure I keep bringing you veggies then, you just let me know what you like!” 

Laughing at his exuberance, you couldn’t help but nod.  “Well in that case…” you proceeded to give him a grocery list of things you cooked with.  

“Under one condition,” He says, winking at you. “One day, you’ll have to let me try something you make!”

Blushing at his request, you just nodded.  “One day, I promise.”  

“Deal!” He’d said excitedly.  

Throughout that visit, he’d made his way over more and more, exchanging polite talk and you found yourself looking forward to seeing him.  You’d even find yourself venturing out on walks just to stop and chat with him about his garden, the weather, even going so far as to tell him what you did for work.  

You were slowly developing what you thought might become a friendship with your handsome neighbor, and you had even started thinking about what to  make to bring him on your next walk.

Unfortunately, that visit had gotten cut short, and you hadn’t been able to fulfill that request because of it.  Work had gotten busy, and then the holidays were upon you.  

Christmas had never been your favorite time of year, and you couldn’t wait for it to be over. 

So once the 25th had come and gone, family dispersing to go back to their everyday lives, you’d packed your bags and headed off once more to the small cottage to get away.  

Driving by Wooyoung’s house, you can’t help but slow down, peeking to see if he was outside doing something.  

It was strange how you’ve come to look forward to seeing the bubbly, handsome man now when you come out here.  

Without realizing it, he had started to become one of the many reasons you looked forward to coming on your excursions to the cottage these days.

Though he wasn’t out when you passed by, you tell yourself that he will likely make his way over at some point.  He always did without fail, and as you go about checking over the cottage, you find yourself peering out the window in expectation.

And there he is, you think to yourself, unconsciously smoothing your hair and giving yourself a once over.  

His dark hair is covered by his tattered knit hat, his breath visible from the cold as he makes his way up your drive.  When he sees you through the window, his face lights up as he waves happily to you.  

You can’t help but giggle a bit as he loses his footing and almost falls, his embarrassed smile as he rights himself warming your cheeks.  

“You didn’t see that!” He calls out as you open the door.  

“Didn’t see you almost fall on your-” you start to tease.

“HEY! No, I am extremely agile and balanced; Fall? Me? Pah!” He returns and you just shake your head at him.  

“Sure, whatever you say.” Suppressing your laughter, you greet him as he kicks the snow off his boots.  

“”I saved you some of the herbs I dried from the summer.” He says, pulling out a few jars to offer you.

“Oh, wow…thank you!” You say, eyeing him as he sniffles a bit, covering his mouth to cough softly.  

“Are you catching a cold?” You ask him, worry marring your features.  “Come inside and have something warm to drink.”

“It’s likely just a cold, but no, I won’t stay long just in case.  I can’t have you getting sick.” He shakes his head, holding his gloved hands up.  

“Well…if you need anything, I can always run to the store to get you medicine or-” You start to offer but he cuts you off.

“Don’t worry about me, I have some medicine for times like this.  I’ll just go home and get some rest.  Maybe I’ll be able to stop by again once this passes.” He says, his eyes almost hopeful as he studies yours.  

“I’d like that, but don’t push yourself.” You tell him, feeling your cheeks heat at the thought.  

“Never, it’s hibernating season!” He laughs as he turns to go.  “Enjoy the herbs and don’t be a stranger!” He calls out.  

“Stay warm and drink fluids!” Smirking, you can’t stop yourself before adding, “And don’t fall on your ass!”

“Graceful! I’m graceful!” he shrieks back as he slides a bit, righting himself before giving you a dramatic pout.  

“Sure!” You can’t stop from laughing as he makes his way home, mumbling incoherently as he walks away.  

Frowning down at the herbs, thinking of how very kind he’s been to you through the recent years, you find yourself heading into the kitchen.

A trip to the local grocery and a restful night later, you wake to get to work in the kitchen early in the morning.  

For most of the morning, you go through the comforting process of making homemade soup.  You’d made your first soup ages ago in this very kitchen, and it warmed your soul to be doing so again as an adult.

The process of making a homemade loaf of bread to accompany the warm soup alleviates all your stresses, mixing, kneading, rising, baking.  

The aroma of warm yeast and the dried herbs Wooyoung had given you fill the small cottage and you sigh in happiness as the morning stretches into afternoon.  

By the time you’re putting the lid on the pot and getting a bag to carry it in, the day is edging into evening.  Peering out the window, you watch the fat snowflakes fall as you package up the still warm bread.

It only takes you a few minutes to trudge through the snow, as it looks as if Wooyoung has already cleared your driveway that morning despite his obvious cold.  

Sighing at the ridiculous man pushing himself, you make your way up his drive to his door.  

It takes a few moments before you hear the padding of feet, then the door opens to a very obviously sick Wooyoung.

“Why were you out shoveling when you are ill?” You say before he can utter a word and he just gives you a sheepish smile.

“I can’t have you getting snowed in, now can I?” He returns, his voice harsh as he covers his mouth to cough.  “What brings you here?” He asks, eyes dropping to your hands.  

“I told you I’d make you something sometime.” You tell him, feeling suddenly shy.  “I..made some soup so I thought this was a good time to share.” 

The man can only blink at you, those dark eyes shocked as he clears his throat.  “You made me soup?” He asks, and you swear his cheeks redden slightly despite already being pink from his cold.

“And bread.” You say, smiling softly at him.  

For once the normally talkative man seems speechless and you find yourself feeling nervous.  

“Should I not have-” you start.

“Please-come in…wait…I don’t want you to catch-” 

“Don’t worry about it, I’m not concerned about getting sick.” You cut him off before he can protest more.  

He steps back to let you in and before long, you’re in his kitchen unloading your food for him.  

“I used the herbs you brought over.” You tell him as he watches you, his dark eyes soft and warm.  

“It smells amazing, you made all of this for me?” He asks, blinking at you in awe.  

“Well…I love making soup and bread anyway…” you turn to gesture at the cupboards.  “Is it alright if I get bowls?” 

He nods, rushing to get them out for you, and then you’re ladling soup out and cutting the fresh bread for him. 

“Sit, relax and eat.” You tell him, and he nods, immediately digging into the warm meal.  

“You shouldn’t go out in the cold when you’re not feeling well.” you scold and he looks up at you, blushing.  

“You know…” he starts, but then shakes his head, looking back down at his soup.  “This is delicious…thank you.” 

You watch as he finishes the soup, then as his eyes brighten when he tastes the warm bread with it.  Nothing beats someone enjoying something you’ve created and it pleases you even more that it’s Wooyoung beaming back at you as he praises the meal.  

“I’ll leave the rest here, promise me you’ll eat and rest.” You demand and he can only smile as he nods.  

“Yes, ma’am.  I swear.”  He lets out a soft sigh, rubbing his arms as he shivers.  “I should rest.  How was your holiday?”

“It’s the same, stressful Christmas it always is.  I prefer the spring when everything is starting to grow, and there’s more calm.” 

He hums, nodding as his eyes droop.  “Me too, I like the spring and summer when I can garden…”

“Well it’s time to hibernate, Wooyoung.  I’ll head home, so you get some rest.” You tell him softly, smiling at the sleepy, sick man.  

“Here’s my number, if you need anything.” You tell him, writing it down on a notebook he has on his counter.  

He just locks eyes with you for a moment and you can feel your heart skip a beat, glancing away quickly as he looks down at the number.  

“Homemade food, a house call and a number? I’m tempted to get down on my knees to propose…” He teases and you can’t help but bite your lip at his words.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, pal.  Get yourself healthy first, and you’ll find that it’s the cold talking.” you shoot back, fiddling with the straps of the now empty bag.  

He only gives you a little smile as he nods, walking with you to the door.  “Sleep, I promise.” 

You make your way home, stopping to glance back at him as he waves, feeling the heat creep into your cheeks.  

Was he flirting with me? You think but shake your head as you return home.  “Impossible…” you murmur, setting about getting comfy for a night in.

The days pass and eventually your stay begins to draw to a close.  

You’ve exchanged texts with Wooyoung, back and forth as he gradually gets better.  Unfortunately, you are only out here for a few days before you’re packing back up to return to your busy life.

“I’ll return the pot to you next time you come out,” He texts after you've left.

“Hopefully I’ll be able to get away again soon, but I’ll let you know.” you respond.

And that was it. 

Or so you thought.  

Once home, you found yourself wondering how Wooyoung was doing, but before you could give in to the urge to reach out, you received another message from him.

“So, how are you doing?” He had sent.  

It was a simple question.  

Nothing to get excited about.  

Yet, that question started a daily exchange between the two of you and before long, it had become a routine.  

By February, you were already longing for time off, for the ability to go see the dark haired man you’ve finally had to admit to having a crush on.

A crush? Definitely.

Or was it more?  

So, when he messaged you on February 14th with a picture of a small cluster of alstroemeria; the beautiful pink and gold in a little pot with a heart on it-

You were left speechless.

The words that followed squashed any of your doubts, your heart pounding in excitement.

They read:

“I planted these this past summer after you told me they were your favorite.  I grew these, thinking of you and maybe I’m crazy but…you haven’t left my mind ever since.

“I keep looking out my window, hoping you’ll drive by for another visit.  When you return, would you like to have dinner together? This time I’ll make you something?”

Your cheeks heat at the message, and it takes you a long moment to process his words before you clear your throat.  

“Are you asking me on a date, Wooyoung?” You send back, covering your face as you wait for his response.

“Yes. I am.  It’s not quite a proposal yet, but ….” 

You wait only a second before the next line comes through, warming your cheeks as you glow with happiness.

“Will you be my valentine?”

[darlenicy]

Darcy and Riven – their story and why I ship them

In January 2023 I found my way back into the Winx fandom - more precisely, I created this Tumblr on January 28th, 2023 and since then I have been constantly passionate about this show from my childhood. Most of all, of course, for our three favorite witches. Accordingly, this year I have given a lot of thought and HCs to the Trix and their relationships. Today is the day that I'm going to write down all of these HCs and thoughts I have and tag them properly so that they're easier to find in my jumble of posts, reblogs and crazy fangirling. Well, have fun!

I got my first anon ask about Driven headcanons (hcs most of the time now) in march and therefore tried to order my thoughts on this topic as well. It actually became something of a definition of their relationship and how I see them in the show: This is how my bullet journal looks:

Riven is pretty badass. That's why Rivusa doesn't make much sense because ego-wise he would have gone after best-girl-Bloom. Or Princess Stella, but more Bloom, simply because Brandon (Sky) obviously found Bloom interesting.

Then there is Darcy. Not only is she the complete opposite of the loud, glittering fairy gang, but she also forms a stark contrast to Riven. She is powerful, yes, but above all she is calm, goal-oriented and come on in 1x8 we see how cute she is. Of course, Riven likes her power-talk in 1x9 but he surely is keen on her because she is a totally different type of girl than Musa or Stella.

Oh, and an important thing that just came to my mind while supervising what I wrote and putting it into a post: DARCY DID NOT MIND-CONTROL HIM IN CANON!

Her glowing eyes meant that she formed the connection with Riven, so that he could contact her mentally later on in the show!

It's fkn 4kids who came up with the mind control because they tend to downplay everything for all American kids' sake. - Ok back to the post:

In terms of type, if comparted to the fairies, Darcy is mostly like Flora, but in contrast to the nature fairy, she has a much more self-confident demeanor. She is also the first to respond to Riven as a person and his needs (power, being recognized). Then of course there is the matter of rescue. Firstly: Thanks for saving my life and secondly: The woman can ride this flying motorcycle like a guy. Where can you find something like that? And unlike the Winx, who are constantly in trouble, Darcy (and her sisters) is beyond competent (in Season 1 after all, we know how the writing goes down, *sigh*). So, we have Darcy: a beautiful, competent badass BB who just saved his life and looks like an angel that fell from heaven - all in the specialist uniform too - sexyyy. So, it's an extremely attractive girl who also knows guy things and cares about him and really sees and perceives him as a person. She's not a self-centered good-time girl who makes him clean, so she doesn't have to endure her punishment alone (looking at you, Winx....)

But who exactly is Darcy? (she's my girl, my bb, my queen) Out of the Trix, she is probably the one who is least behind the world domination plans. Of course, she is still a member of the Trix - and of course not less power-hungry than her sisters. But she would be the one most likely to give up everything to live a quiet but fulfilling life with the person she loves. Isn't she? She is definitely the first to panic and to make mistakes as a result. We remember episode 1x5, where she immediately panicked when everything didn't work out as planned. She thought she would find Stella's ring in no time, that wasn't the case. Instead of keeping a cool head like Icy would have, she freaks out and starts attacking Bloom. Is it fear because she is running out of time and doesn't know what to do if her disguise is exposed? In any case, Darcy would have been expected to wear a more confident disguise. But in the end, she's the one most likely to panic and this episode shows that perfectly. Maybe that's also the reason why she has clever ideas, but often doesn't think them through. In episode 2x10 she tries to get Icy to put the feather in the scales, fearing that she might have made a mistake and get wiped just like Stormy, who had previously hit the scales with brute force. Icy states very correctly: You’re a backstabbing coward, Darcy. And I love you for that. And with that she the nail right on the head. Darcy is certainly the first of the Trix to get nervous. She certainly has a tendency to overthink, whereas Riven strikes first and thinks later (at best).

Mind control is her specialty. She knows how to get into the minds of her victims to confuse and weaken them. At the same time, she also knows how uncertain and dangerous feelings can be. When it comes to having deep feelings for someone else, she is more likely to be the one who is insecure and cautious. Precisely because feelings are so uncertain, she probably tries to make decisions with her head rather than with her guts.

Their love story is iconic and cute. Basically, we have good girl and bad boy, but the good girl is one of the bad guys and the bad boy is ultimately one of the good guys. They haven't really fought against each other yet. Riven only knows that Darcy is one of the most powerful witches in Cloud Tower and that she and her sisters hate the Winx. Since Riven is skeptical of the Winx himself and has no deeper connection to them, he has little to do with this antipathy from both sides and perhaps only hears about it in passing from Brandon or Sky. So in 1x7 he doesn't pay much attention to the Trix. The fact that he turns on the light and exposes the Trix is once again Riven being Riven. He wants to be the cool dude and doesn't really care about the situation. He simply has no interest in the Winx's affairs and is only pissed when he becomes personally involved with Musa being thrown into his arms by the minotaur. Maybe that’s where his inner hero speaks? But first and foremost, he wants to praise himself. The first time he really notices Darcy is in 1x8, where she represents to him the complete opposite of the fairies, one of which had just shown him up (Bloom).

Darcy, on the other hand, is already interested in Riven in 1x7 and hides the whole thing behind the talk about the Prince of Darkness (seriously, WHO is the Prince of Darkness? Why is that never clarified?). One episode later, she's extremely worried that something might happen to Riven with Icy's, admittedly delicate, plan. bb obviously already has a crush on him. And no one can claim that Icy doesn't know this and is actively using it for her plan. I think that Darcy's feelings didn't matter to her at all, thinking she'd get over it sooner or later. But the fact is, even Icy sees the spark fly between them.

So you could say it was love at first sight for both of them. It is also important for Riven that after all the disappointments and constant criticism he was exposed to at Red Fountain, someone finally recognizes him and his talents. While the Winx, especially Stella, just complained about him, Darcy supported what he was. Partly because she can take advantage of his ambitions, of course, and partly because she simply likes him. I think there are some things Darcy does simply for herself and not because it's part of the plan to rule the Magic Dimension.

From Riven's point of view, what probably also speaks for Darcy is her maturity. She's not a little fairy to save. The opposite is the case. She is probably more experienced in other things too - but that always depends on the respective HC. Darcy can be a bad bitch and cute bb - both are accurate. For me though, she gives more bb vibes than bitch vibes. However, she appears much more mature and confident than the fairies. Speaking of bb (she's one, look at her!) -

she's the type most likely to develop romantic feelings. Icy is too calculating and Stormy is just there for the passion (if you get what I mean). In 2x2 we have this scene "*sigh* To be young and in love...".

She's also the one of the Trix most likely to feel something resembling remorse, if only for her time with Riven. On the other hand, in season 2 we have Riven, who immediately sees through Darcy's attacks - because he knows them. Very well. There is probably still a connection between the two. There could have been more hints about their relationship besides “cute” and “not cute”. There could have been one or two longing looks. I FELL ROBBED.

That’s basically how I interpret their story and why I ship them. I’ll come up with some headcanons these days as well. Stay tuned :3

[zepskies]

Why We Love the Boys

As promised, here is my review of Supes Ain’t Always Heroes. I actually used to write book reviews in my high school journalism days, so here we go!  

What this book is: A masterful deep dive. A study on character psychology, the source of the comic and show’s inspiration, and the narrative themes illustrated in The Boys that parallel American culture and our real lives.

It includes interviews from one of the comic’s creators, Darick Robertson, The Krip himself (Eric Kripke), and actors Jim Beaver (Robert Singer), Aya Cash (Stormfront), Chace Crawford (The Deep), Jessie T. Usher (A-Train), Nathan Mitchell (Black Noir), and of course, Jensen Ackles (Soldier Boy).

It also includes a small but significant ode to the creativity of fans and fandom (with a mention of fanfic writers)!

I’ll admit, I felt seen. 😊

Who wrote it: Psychologists Lynn S. Zubernis and Matthew Snyder, among several other contributors. Zubernis is a self-proclaimed fangirl of not only this show, but also of Supernatural and Eric Kripke in general. (That aspect definitely comes through in her writing.)

She is also editor of Family Don’t End with Blood: Cast and Fans on How Supernatural Changes Lives and There’ll Be Peace When you Are Done: Actors and Fans Celebrate the Legacy of Supernatural—both of which I now want to read.

As I mentioned, several other authors also contributed to this book, as their expertise and backgrounds lend to the subjects they’re covering, such as racism, sexism, the entertainment industry, the comic’s inception, and more.

Who wants to read this book: Anyone who enjoys learning about what makes characters tick. What drives their choices, their sense of morality and justice, and their trauma and strife that lead them to do heinous things. This book will help you better understand your favorite characters (and how to write about them).

Perhaps most importantly, this book is for anyone who wants to read it put into words, why many of us love The Boys, as well as Supernatural.

In a way, the latter is more escapism entertainment than The Boys. Because in this show, there isn’t much, if any escape.

Despite this being a “superhero show,” as we all know, it’s so much more than that. It’s a mirror held directly into our own faces: about why we enjoy heroes and antiheroes, and excuse the “bad behavior” of the ones we like.

About mental health, grief and loss, nature and nurture, coping mechanisms and the importance of choice in dealing with trauma; of racism, sexism, misogyny, weaponized social media, politics, corporate greed, and the power (and cruelty) of good marketing.

This book explores the true villain of the story...and it ain’t Homelander.

I’m going to get into my favorite aspects of this book—as well as an amazing chapter on Soldier Boy’s character study (and why we love him, perhaps too much).

There was also one small, but key thing I would add to that argument. But first...

The Mirror of The Boys on Screen

This world is a gritty, bloody, and at times all-too realistic take on how superheroes would be if they lived in our world.

They are the worst of celebrities, professional athletes, and politicians all rolled into one. They are the shiny products of a company and are marketed as such—and worst of all, they often buy into their own hype.

Some of my favorite quotes on this topic:

“The Boys often reflects darkness in our real world that is uncomfortable to watch. While we go through the tedium of our daily lives, trying to get by and using television or comics as an escape, it can feel difficult and overwhelming to confront the very real and insidious sources of authoritarianism, nationalism, and corporatism that are not just part of a story. “This show holds up a mirror and forces us to catch a glimpse of things we need to question, and asks us why we so easily believe the talking points of systems with marketing departments and press flacks behind them that carefully massage every word in order to get us to feel enamored with their product or policy.” (p. 227-228)

“The Boys works to reveal the nonaltruistic, sociopathic nature of contemporary US corporate culture. In a sense, The Boys uses the behavior of its characters to diagnose not an individual, but a culture.” (255)

In studying narrative I’ve learned that the best fiction and art serve to reflect the human experience. In this case, it’s something The Boys does expertly, even though it’s packaged in extreme, shocking, and often uncomfortable ways. But also in brutal, hilarious satire that’s fun to watch.

It “exposes real-world abuses, revealing many” of our own frustrations in American culture and in life in general (267).

Major Themes & Questions Explored

Several Boys themes are explored from a psychological, cultural, and narrative point of view, as I mentioned earlier. These are some of my favorite segments:

Toxic Masculinity & Narcissism

A whopper in The Boys, and the main theme of season 3. This book defines clearly what both of these words actually mean from a psychological point of view.

It also takes the bad taste out of your mouth that you might get from just hearing the words “toxic masculinity,” as it’s a phrase that can be carelessly thrown around to describe men and character traits that aren’t truly toxic...

How being emotionally available to your loved ones and not repressive of your feelings doesn’t make you weak, or less of a man. And how “being strong” doesn’t mean being physically violent and domineering. (AKA: the Big Swinging Dick™️ in the room.)

Narcissism is explored in a very interesting way. The book gives a diagram of different aspects of narcissists and how each character (Soldier Boy, Homelander, Butcher, and the Deep) falls into them.

Soldier Boy, for example, is classified as a “Classic Narcissist,” while Homelander a “Malignant Narcissist.” <- This will play into Soldier Boy’s character study, and the main difference between Soldier Boy and Homelander.

Butcher, however, displays narcissistic tendencies but is not, in fact, a narcissist. (More of an antisocial sociopath. Yay for him.)

Misogyny & Sexism

The classic superhero world of comics dates back to the 1930s and ‘40s. It has been, and in many respects still is a (White) male-dominated industry, where in narrative, female superheroes typically work under a male leading the team, as in Justice League, Teen Titans, and the Avengers.

As much as I love DC and Marvel comics, female characters have also been depicted wildly sexual for male readers and the male gaze, and non-supe characters have been written primarily as love interests and damsels for the hero to save. (Think Lois Lane, Lana Lang, and Mary Jane.)

Modern adaptions have given female characters more agency, but their foundations were rooted in underlying sexism and the mythic hero—an Odysseus-type with certain characteristics of male strength and heroism; and that goes all the way back to classic literature, like The Odyssey, Beowulf, and the Epic of Gilgamesh.

In The Boys, the female supes go through the same issues as their comic counterparts. They are treated how women are treated in the real world—marketable as sexual objects. Starlight’s forced costume change is a prime example.

Author Danielle Turchiano argues in the book that the women in power at Vought (Madelyn Stillwell, later Ashley) are given only so much power as men like Stan Edgar and Homelander give to them.

Stillwell, Ashley, and even Stormfront “drink the Kool Aid” of the misogynistic infrastructure of Vought, but they’re not truly “powerful” in and of themselves (112).

I would add that the only female characters that have or find true agency are Grace Mallory, Annie January/Starlight, and Maggie Shaw/Queen Maeve. Even Victoria Neuman is trying to work the political schematic and Vought by operating within the system Vought has created.

Mental Health, Trauma & Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms

This is a huge section, and rightly so. It kind of spans throughout the book, really, because all of these characters have traumas that inform who they are as adults making the (often grotesque) choices they make.

For many of these characters, it stems from their upbringing and fraught relationships with their parents, whether explicitly or implicitly explored in the show.

Butcher: Is an antisocial sociopath with narcissistic tendencies. Arrogant, emotionally manipulative, violent, and obsessive. He was also physically and emotionally abused by his father, led to use drinking and violence as a means to cope and express himself. His rage is so deep under his skin—he loathes himself for it (and his father), but struggles immensely to escape it.

Homelander (John): A malignant narcissist, the height of arrogance, and emotionally manipulative. He lacks empathy for others' pain, and in fact enjoys inflicting it. Yet according to Jonah Vogelbaum, "John" was a sensitive, gentle child who only wanted connection and love. Vogelbaum raised him like a lab rat and fostered him in a cold, detached cell. He was raised to be entitled and to believe he was an all-powerful god, the lord of his own kingdom within his mind, excused from the responsibility of his actions.

Soldier Boy (Ben): Also a narcissist; violent, arrogant, misogynistic, and often indifferent to the damage he causes, emotional or physical. Yet he was also emotionally abused by his father, who set high and exacting standards for what it meant to be a man. It drives Ben to try and prove his worth to his father, though he’s never able to. It fosters the lack of self-worth he probably feels as he seeks validation through fame, and what he believes power to be.

These three characters have many similarities, but also notable differences that set them apart from one another. And both Butcher and Soldier Boy use substances like drugs and alcohol to cope with their traumas—ones that their forced stoicism and sense of manhood won’t allow them to easily express.

“We see Soldier Boy use substances almost continuously in season three to deal with his PTSD from the childhood emotional abuse he received from his father, the betrayal and assault from his team, and the torture he endured from the Russian scientists.

“In the short term, the use of drugs and alcohol to avoid thoughts and feelings about traumatic experiences can be felt as helpful, but in the long term, it hinders one’s ability to process emotions and can cause a deeper depression from the guilt and shame of both avoidance and substance abuse.” (27)

Heroes, Antiheroes & Villains

This book explores two key questions that the show encourages you to think about:

Who the hell is the hero of this story?

And who is the villain?

The surface-level answer is that Homelander and other supes like him are the villains, and Butcher and his band of bros are the heroes (or antiheroes). But they commit just as questionable, sketchy, and downright murderous acts as the supes they’re trying to take down.

“Butcher is not really a good guy. He’s manipulative and self-centered. His reasons for wanting to take down Homelander are utterly personal. That it serves the greater good is almost a coincidence.” (9)

And if Butcher is not a hero, but a vengeful vigilante, then why do we root for him so much?

Well, we see his incredible flaws, of course, but I sympathize with his struggle in losing his wife and the life he could've continued to have with her. I root for the underdog going against the hydra head of Vought and the psychopathic Homelander.

I see in Butcher, as I also do with Homelander and Soldier Boy, their traumas and their internal conflicts, their deep-rooted self-loathing, and a desire, deep, deep down…to be loved.

(And to foster connection with others, even if they’re unable to sustain them.)

On the flipside, we have antagonists in this show who do truly heinous things. What makes them compelling even sympathetic at times, yet again, are their painful upbringings that have shaped them to be who they are. The supes of this show are byproducts of being treated like products.

Like the saying goes: Villains aren’t born, they’re made.

That’s why the real villain of this story is Vought International. It’s an allegory, and an indictment of the ruthless corporate greed that pervades American culture—and much of the world.

It’s why Stan Edgar is sometimes scarier to me than even Homelander (and was the true villain of my story, Break Me Down), if far more insidious.

Speaking of BMD, let’s get to it, shall we?

Here’s a (lot) bit about the Soldier Boy section of the book.

Soldier Boy: Why We Can’t Hate Him

I had to laugh out loud at the title of Soldier Boy’s chapter:

Loving the Villain: The Confusing Case of Soldier Boy

I’m not gonna lie. I felt called out. 😂

It is a confusing dichotomy. Soldier Boy is an absolute asshole. Misogynistic, narcissistic, arrogant, callous, violent…

But also deeply traumatized, a man-out-of-time, emotionally abused, a byproduct of the historically and culturally different time he was raised in, a man who just doesn’t get it…

And also charming, adorably grumpy, and undoubtedly attractive.

It’s hard to indict “Ben” as an unredeemable villain in the same way I do Homelander, the psychologist-labelled Malignant Narcissist.

Therein lies the main difference between Soldier Boy and Homelander: Soldier Boy doesn’t seem to take joy in harming others the way Homelander does...but, Soldier Boy still harms people, whether he means to or not. He is arrogant and callous, deeply traumatized and vengful.

Zubernis confirms many of my own conclusions and ideas about Soldier Boy, and why I still rooted for him to be better, and didn’t want him to die at the end of season 3.

As Zubernis rightly exclaimed during her own watch of the finale: “Noooo, don’t kill the Danger Grandpa Baby Murder Kitten!” (175)

Because Jensen did what he does best in his roles: He made us feel Ben’s pain.

“What’s funny is, in regard to Jensen playing Soldier Boy, you know he’s fucking fantastic, he’s just so good at bringing the audience, and it’s almost like—what I laugh about is, he was probably a little too good at his job!” Kripke said. (180)

And he continues, “In part it’s because of the fandom. So many people took his side in the finale, they’re like, Were’s on his side, fuck everyone! And you’re like, but he’s the bad guy and he’s trying to kill a ten-year-old.”

Were there fans who held this viewpoint? I’m sure. There are some radicals who don’t care about the humanity of characters or story and will side with their favorites, come whatever. But while I can’t speak for others, that’s not how I interpreted that moment in the season 3 finale when I watched it for the first, second, and even third time.

Yes, I think Soldier Boy was wrongfully willing to fight Ryan after cruelly batting him away. Do I think he would’ve killed him? I’m not sure. I think he would’ve continued to do what he had to do to get Ryan out of his way in his fight with Homelander. Maybe he would’ve been more violent than he intended, in the callous collateral damage he’d shown throughout the season. Maybe he would've held back at the last second. Or maybe he would’ve gone that far, if provoked.

It’s a tough call, as I think this character can go one way or the other in terms of his “villain” nature. We just haven’t seen enough of him in the series yet for me to make that conclusion on the canon-version of Soldier Boy. (In fanfic, I’ve explored my own interpretation.)

But overall, I think The Krip underestimated the power of Jensen’s acting.

…And the ardent nature of his mostly female fanbase. 😂

Why We Love Soldier Boy

The author cites multiple reasons for why we love Ben more than we probably should:

It’s Jensen Ackles: Fair enough. His talent speaks for itself.

Soldier Boy’s backstory: He was emotionally abused by his father and as a result, he has a complex regarding his self-worth, “something to prove,” and I would imagine a secret need for attention, validation, and praise.

He has trauma and PTSD: He is displaced from what is familiar to him and confused when the boys find him, and that is the least of it. He’s been tortured for 40 years. Can you even wrap your mind around that?

He’s charming: In a sexy grandpa, adorably grumpy, lovable asshole kind of way.

We’re drawn to danger: Dangerous “edgy” types are fun, especially when you’re physically attracted to the character.

He has his moments of vulnerability: Jensen’s ability to play the nuance in the character is the ultimate draw. I felt his pain, could see his torture, and his resulting PTSD. He even admits that he longs for a family, even if his ability to bring up those children is questionable at best. 😅

But I think the one aspect that can also be considered is the character’s capacity for change.

Soldier Boy’s Potential

Again, I don’t think you can write off Soldier Boy’s potential for positive character development the same way you can Homelander, or even Butcher.

For one thing, we just haven’t spent enough time with the character. In season 3, a lot of his collateral damage after he escapes imprisonment has been accidental, or PTSD-induced. Though we can’t discount how he murdered M.M.’s grandfather via collateral damage (and was callous about it).

I think this is what drew me to write about Soldier Boy. For all his arrogance, his chauvinism, his massive ego and general bastardry, there’s still humanity in Ben.

In the book, Nathan Mitchell says something amazing about his own character (Black Noir) that resonated with me about Soldier Boy as well:

"One of the ingredients of a compelling character is contradiction. How does one aspect of our personality contradict with one another? [...] Who is he underneath? How might his true nature contrast with the demands of his job?"

Or coded for Soldier Boy/Ben: The pressures he puts on himself to be the type of man he thought his father wanted him to be.

Again, his sexist, misogynistic ideals are shaped by the time he was raised in, by being a product of Vought, and of his father’s emotionally abusive upbringing. Does this excuse or justify all of his behavior? Of course not.

But I do think those 40 years in captivity changed him from the careless alpha dog we saw in 1984 Nicaragua…

He admits to Crimson Countess, with tears in his eyes, that he’d loved her. That he waited for her and his team—arguably the only social system he had in his life—to save him. He’s gutted to realize that not only did she and the rest of the team never love him, they hated him. They traded him for nothing. Just to get him out of their lives.

For all he claims to be afraid of nothing, tough as shit, he is afraid when he goes to face Mindstorm. He knows what the supe is capable of, and he visibly takes a shaky breath and tries to steel himself.

For a moment, he drops the “Soldier Boy” persona that he wears like that fine tailored suit, and he tells Butcher that the backstory Vought created for him was a lie; he grew up a rich kid who got sent to boarding school, but flunked out, because "he was a fuck up." And his father couldn’t be bothered to lay a hand on him, implying he didn’t care enough about his own son to "discipline" him.

He is reluctant to kill Homelander when he finds out he’s Ben’s son (sort of). He even claims that he would’ve been willing to share the spotlight “with his own son.” — Something I doubt even Homelander would do.

Ben even seems to be fighting tears when he levies the same vitriol at Homelander that his own father did at him:

Homelander: “Weak? I’m you.” Soldier Boy: “I know. You’re a fucking disappointment.”

Let me be clear. I don’t think it’s up to someone to change him (like a love interest). I don’t subscribe to that thinking, that a woman can “change” a man.

For example: In season 2, Butcher tells Becca, “Who was I before you? Nothing.”

And yet, she tells him that he put her on an unrealistic and unsustainable pedestal, in which she felt like she wasn’t allowed to fully be herself, unable to keep him from flying off the handle in rage. That kind of relationship (where one is dependent on the other to “keep them in check”) doesn’t work as a lasting, satisfying redemption arc, and it often doesn’t work in real life either.

I do think, however, that a person is capable of change if they’re broken down enough (pun intended), and if they themselves have a desire to change. Someone they encounter can inspire them to be better, like Butcher with Hughie. That person can help support the other.

At the end of the day, however, it’s Ben that has to want to change.

If he wants love and connection, he’ll have to somehow want it, and try (and sometimes fail) to get it, thereby giving him agency and a redemptive character arc.

Now, obviously, it’s up to The Krip where Ben goes from here. He seems to have a more indicting vision of the character than I do (at least, so far). But we’ll see! The fan demand to bring back the character has already had Kripke confirming that Soldier Boy will be back.

Maybe it will encourage him to give the character a more satisfying ending than Dean Winchester got in Supernatural. Though granted, that one wasn’t his doing, apparently he was in favor of that ending, which ultimately culminated 15 years of monster slaying and broments under Baby's roof.

Comparing Dean & Ben

In his interview segment, Jensen talks about what, if any, are the comparisons between Dean Winchester and Soldier Boy. AKA: Wanting a father’s approval, and an undercurrent of “John Wayne”-esque masculinity in John Winchester that Dean sought to emulate.

Jensen also talks about where he drew from to not only embody the character of Soldier Boy, but bring nuance to him—and show the peeks of vulnerability under the bravado and stoicism.

“He’s so fragile and his ego is fragile. Just like Homelander. These bigger-than-life powerful heroes really have a glass jaw… “And everyone walks on eggshells around him [Soldier Boy], and they tell him that they love him, and it’s the same with Homelander. Then when all of a sudden he faces his old team and Crimson Countess says we never loved you, we hated you—that’s a gut punch for him. Because even though on some level he may have known that, he never thought he would hear it. “And he probably propped himself up around trying to believe otherwise, because how can you walk around knowing everyone you’ve ever cared about hates you? It’s too painful.” (191)

It really is. I inherently felt this about Soldier Boy (Ben) when I watched season 3 for the first time. That’s exactly what I got from his performance and thought, there’s more to this guy than the toxic masculinity he represents.

This guy just wants to be loved, like everyone else. He wants to feel important, and even after his father’s dead, “show him” that Ben is the man his father wanted him to be. And so, he bought into the illusion Vought painstakingly crafted for him.

Whether he can come back from that remains to be seen, but I choose to be optimistic until evidence points to the contrary. 😅 (Maybe we’ll see in season 4!)

So that’s my personal take on Soldier Boy and this awesome book. 💚 Thank you again @kaleldobrev for recommending it to me! I hope you all enjoyed my long-winded review and want to check this out.

And if you do read it, let me know! I hope to read your thoughts as well!

Tagging people who said they wanted to read my review on this book: @venus-haze @jessjad @kristophalis @sl33pylilbunny