#it’s a lot of boring build up so like rip

[strawberrykidneystone]

Hiiiiiii I know we talked about mechanic sevika buttttt can I request gym owner sevika?

I saw THIS and I couldn’t help myself 🤭

OMFG YES

gym owner sevika!!!

(fem reader, women’s only gym sorry)

unfortunately, your new year’s resolution was pretty basic

going to the gym!

you weren’t expecting to keep up with it like most of your other resolutions

until you met the owner

the first few times you went to the gym by your house, you didn’t think much of it

it was pretty basic, had all of the machines that you needed and a bored blue haired girl who sat in the reception area who was probably working there part time just for college. she was pleasant enough and the two of you had chatted a few times while you were on your way out.

but it was a women’s only gym, so you actually felt really comfortable in the atmosphere of the building

you usually went at night, but today you had a free morning so you thought you might as well get it over with

as soon as you tapped your card onto the outside sensor and opened the door, your knees almost buckled under you as you went to greet the usual blue haired girl who was replaced by a beautiful buff woman with a short black haircut, a shimmer prosthetic arm, and the most intense eyes gray you’ve ever seen

you nodded to her awkwardly when you made eye contact and stiffly walked over to the cubbies, shoving your bag into its usual cube

you shook you head to try and clear your mind, you were here to improve yourself not to stare at beautiful women!!

jumping up in the treadmill, you couldn’t help but steal a few glances over at the welcome desk

you prayed to all of the wlw gods that she was single

once you were done with your cardio, you headed over to the weight lifting stations and thanked the gym gods that your favorite spot was open. there wasn’t anything special about it, it’s just the one you usually went to and might’ve accidentally gotten an emotional attachment to it

you slide on the weights you needed onto each side of the barbell and secured them in with the clip, adding a little more weight than you usually did this time

ducking under the bar, you rested the bar on the sweet spot down the back of your neck and adjusted it to your liking

you reached up and under the bar, adjusting your grip until it felt right and just as you were about to lift the bar off the hooks, you saw a pair of sneakers step into your line of vision

as you slowly lifted your head, you took in the entire body of the ripped woman in front of you who was wearing nothing but gym shorts and a sports bra

you had to bite your tongue to keep from drooling over her defined muscles, her bulging flesh arm that crossed her prosthetic in front of her chest made you feel dizzy as you ripped your eyes away from them

once you met her gaze, those same piercing eyes that you met at the entrance you almost didn’t catch her question

“need a spot?”

“huh?”

“while you lift, do you need a spotter?”

“o-oh yes! yes please!”

sevika walked around and stood behind you

suddenly the room felt a lot hotter

this was totally normal right? she was probably a personal trainer here or something!!!

having her behind you was definitely a comfort, usually you did your lifting on your own but knowing that she was there made you a lot more confident, especially with more weight than usual

she squatted with you as you moved and held her hands about half a foot under the bar just in case something slipped, giving you little pointers to improve your technique

you were ashamed to say that you purposefully arched your back a few times, you couldn’t see but you hoped that she was looking… (she was)

once you were done with your set, she easily helped you put the bar back onto the hook as if it weighed nothing, which to her it probably didn’t

“so sorry i totally forgot to ask you your name?” you asked with a flutter of your lashes, hoping you didn’t look to disheveled as you wiped down the equipment

“sevika, nice to meet you,” she said smoothly, giving you a firm handshake with her flesh hand

god her hand almost completely enveloped yours

you quickly told her your name and gave her your sweetest smile, “so do you come here often? i don’t think i’ve seen you here before.”

sevika chuckled and crossed her arms over her chest once again, a seemingly relaxed position for her, “i actually own the place, but my niece usually works the front desk, ‘specially when her uncle has me running errands all around town.”

“oh! well it’s so nice to finally meet you, i’ve talked to jinx a lot and she’s a super talented artist,” you recalled, seeing jinx drawing in her sketchbook at the front desk

sevika deadpanned and pinched the bridge of her nose with her hand, “has she been drawing on the clock again?”

you covered your mouth with your hand as your eyes widened, shit you didn’t mean to snitch on her

she sighed and shook her head, “i told her not to but she insists that she ‘can’t stop the creative flow when it’s happening!’” she said with exaggerated air quotes and made her voice higher to imitate jinx’s

you giggled at the impression and the two of you continued to make small talk until you had to leave to go get ready for work

sevika stepped behind the desk and waved as you were about to leave the gym, but you stopped yourself

you backtracked and stood in front of her at the desk, mustering up all of your courage, “can i give you my number?”

sevika looked up at you with an inquiring eyebrow before slowly nodding

“yeah sure, do you need some more pointers or a trainer?” she asked as she handed you a pen and paper from across the desk

“nope. well i mean yes, i’d love some pointers, but i’d also like to take you out on a date. romantically.” you said as casually as you could, scribbling your name and number down onto the paper with a little heart next to it, your own heart pounding so much you could hear it in your ears

sevika was a little in shock and numbly took the paper from you, a blush creeping on her cheeks as you waved goodbye, almost running into the door frame on your way out

she was so used to being the one initiating dates that having a woman so bluntly ask her out was new territory for her

but it felt,,, good? oh god is that what butterflies in your stomach felt like?

she immediately saved your number into her phone and added a heart by your name, just like on the paper you gave her <3

you received a text about 30 minutes later, something sevika had to rewrite at least 5 times

it’s sevika. so when is this date we’re going on sweetheart?

a/n: i’m sorry if the jargon is off yall im a pilates/yoga girlie😔

taglist: @maneskinwh0re @archangeldyke-all @fandoms-will-be-the-death-of-me @sevikasfan @lez-zuha @comfortripley @sunflowerwinds

[noctiva]

I’m back!! I’m super curious do you have a list of general Toby Headcanons posted anywhere or am I just entirely blind? Lmao I’m super curious what your HCs for the man are like.

- 🐼

you’re not blind!! I’ve been meaning to post a general hc list for AGESSSSS you just gave me to push to do it hehe here it is!

-

Toby Rogers - General Headcanons

CW for: mentions of violence, cannibalism, self-destructive tendencies

-

Visual/Appearance

Toby is a tall, lanky mf. Standing at about 6’1 but appears shorter because he’s got horrible posture.

The CEO of having a sleeper build tbh. He looks skinny, especially under all the layers of sweaters and jackets he likes to wear, but don’t let that fool you. He’s scary strong, with a mean right hook.

Mousy brown hair that’s long enough to cover his ears. Shaggy, choppy, and uneven because he cuts it himself.

Has a ton of freckles that show best when he’s gotten some sun

Crooked, chipped teeth from one too many blows to the face, with uncannily sharp canines.

Dark, dark brown eyes with even darker circles under them.

Wardrobe

The midwest emo type

Flannels, ripped baggy jeans, jackets with patches that he sewed on himself

Either wearing a beat up pair of sneakers or more sturdy hunting boots when he’s out on a mission

Wears a ton of layers (as mentioned before) because he always feels cold even if it’s warm outside

I’m talking like; a t-shirt, under a hoodie, with a flannel over top, topped with a big comfy jacket

Personality

Sarcastic motherfucker. Even in times that definitely don’t warrant it al all.

Pretty scarred mentally from being bullied ruthlessly as a kid, so he’s actually really closed off. Pretty reluctant to get close to or open up to people because he’s convinced he’ll just end up being the butt of the joke again.

HATES being around aggressive, violent men. Reminds him too much of his father, and he’ll genuinely just freeze up completely as a trauma response.

Same goes for people who drink. He can’t stand that shit either. (He will smoke weed though, but alcohol is a complete no go).

Absolute jokester once you actually do get him to open up. Pretty carefree and funny, despite it all.

Chronically bottles up his emotions. Would much rather just slap on a smile and push everything down than actually confront them. (Leads to pretty nasty breakdowns more often than not.)

Shit disturber. Will stir drama and start fights just because he’s bored.

Swears like a sailor.

General

Chronic nail biter and skin picker. It’s partially an oral fixation type thing so if it’s not his fingers in his mouth it’s a toothpick, or gum, or the drawstrings of his sweater orrrr…

…A cigarette. Because this man smokes like a chimney. Tim isn’t fully to blame for why he got into it, but he is the one Toby stole smokes from when he first got the urge to try it.

Now it’s a constant thing. Half a pack a day on a good day. He’s always got one tucked behind his ear, and he constantly reeks of the smell of it.

Has a ton of scarring from piercings he did on himself and then decided he hated a few months later. (The only ones he kept being a septum and a pair of snakebites, but he sucks at taking care of them so they’re infected like ALL the time)

He’s flip floppy like this in a lot of aspects of his life. Constantly hyperfixating on things just to decide he hates them a few weeks later.

Also does stick n’ poke tattoos on himself like all the time. Dumb little chicken scratch doodles on his arms and thighs.

Loves sour candy like CRAZY.

A huge nerd deep down. Used to collect comic books and figurines when he was a kid, but lost them all when his house burnt down. (If he breaks into someone’s house and finds some nowadays he’s stealing them. IMMEDIATELY. Especially if it’s anything X-Men.)

Speaking of stealing, he’s a klepto. If he wants it, he’s just gonna take it. And lord knows the proxies don’t get paid a living wage so it’s not like he’d be able to afford it anyway.

Big forager. Likes to look for animal bones and pretty rocks while out in the woods. Cleans them and decorates the shelves of his cabin with them. Also likes to carve things as well. Making knives out of sticks and bones. Little figures that he whittles to keep his hands busy.

Is fluent in German, and slips back into it when he’s really pissed or annoyed (or when… yk..). His mother spoke it a lot at home when he was growing up.

Has cannibalistic tendencies and pretty nasty intrusive thoughts. Almost always bites a chunk out of his victims before disposing of their body. Has a hard time not getting a taste of the living people he knows.

Chews on his own skin because of this, gnawing at his palms to satiate the craving for blood.

Pyromaniac (duh) always has a lighter or matches on him. Sets fires just for fun, and could sit and stare into the flames for hours on end.

He hates his tics :( It’s deep seated trauma from the kids at school and shit his dad used to say to him. To the point where he’s grown a habit of hitting himself whenever he does tic, like if he punishes himself for doing it, maybe one day his body will stop (it hasn’t)

Verbal and physical tics. Often mimicry of words and sounds he hears often (common ones include whistles that mimic bird calls)

Low-key a sadist. Because he can’t feel pain himself, watching people react to being in pain is morbidly fascinating to him. Really takes his time with his victims because of it.

Virgin teenage boy levels of hormones LMAOOO. The type to have a bikini model poster plastered on his bedroom wall.

Sucks at talking to girls irl though. Puts on a way too confident facade and makes a total fool of himself more often than not.

—————————————————————————☆

yaaaay! I’ve been meaning to post this for ages

let me know if you guys want relationship hcs too (sfw + nsfw)!

[qlossytbh]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐥𝐬 𝐝𝐢𝐬𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐬𝐞 - 𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐮!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬 you get your period. that’s the synopsis.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 fem!reader, mentions of lots of period pain, cramps, nausea, fatigue..etc, mutual pining, idiots in love. pretty much just fluff tbh

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 1.2k

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 guess who just got their period!!!!!

𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐝 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 | 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

An involuntary groan left your lips, elbows perched against your desk and head falling weakly into the palms of your hands. Your forehead was shining a thin layer of sweat, breath short and jagged.

You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to alleviate the gut-wrenching pain that was pulsating throughout your lower abdomen. Your body felt weak, shaking slightly due to the pain.

This time of the month was the devil's way of making you pay for something you had done in a past life— although you couldn’t think of anything that would bring you anywhere near deserving of this monstrosity.

Penelope eyed you curiously, stopping midway on her trail back to her own little bat cave, as you liked to call it. It would take an idiot not to see how clearly in pain you were.

“Hello my sweet love,” She walked up to your desk, heels clinking against the floor. “You okay?”

You gave your friend a side glance, lacking the vast amounts of energy you needed to dismiss her concerned gaze.

“Just great Pen,” You gritted, teeth clamping together as one more wave of cramps shot through your body. Your cramps came in waves and right now you were trying to recompose yourself from one of said waves. You were failing miserably at the staying cool and collected persona.

Penelope's face fell, mouth curving into a small ‘o’ of understanding. “Oh..”

You slumped over your desk, resting your forehead on the cool surface as your arms snaked around your lower body. She rested a hand on your back and rubbed soft, soothing circles. “That time of the month?”

“Does everyone have such a hard time with cramps?” You groaned from your position on your desk.

“Some people do,” She whispered, voice hesitant. “I had a friend that had to go to the hospital once because of how bad her cramps were and they told her that she—“

You whined, curving your spine impossibly further as an attempt to sooth something, anything. Maybe if you curled up further into a ball it’d hurt less. Penelope could tell she wasn’t helping “Sorry! I thought I was helping with the—“

You were on the latter end of society that suffered period cramps immensely. Back pain, nausea— all of it. It made it impossible for you to come to work the week of your period, but hey, here you were pulling through.

Lucky for you, today had been paperwork day, meaning skimping through countless files was easier than having to run around chasing a serial killer while your uterus was being ripped to pieces.

Soon enough the bullpen's glass doors pulled open and in spilled the rest of the team, Emily chatting along with JJ, Spencer alongside a very enthusiastic Derek and so on.

Penelope continued to rub your back even when you lifted your head and let your chin settle on the desk with a pout that looked as clear as day. Anyone in this building could walk by and notice your clear discomfort— Spencer was no different.

He placed a hand on the back of your chair, ducking down to get a better look at your pitiful state. “Hey,”

“Hi,” You grumbled.

“Should I ask?” Spencer pulled a chair out from the desk beside yours and sat by your side, letting his hands fall in his own lap as he looked up at Penelope.

“I tried helping,” Penelope muttered out. “I get skittish when I don’t know how to help, or what to do and I do this thing with words and—“

You turned your head, laying it flat on its side on your cold desk to get a look at him— a proper one. Your eyes bored more than a million ways to say you were exhausted, and he immediately caught what was up. He always did.

“Doesn’t the fact that I look like a dying corpse give it away?” You complained, face smushed onto the desk

He smiled back. “You don’t look like a dying corpse,”

You blushed. “An already dead one then,”

He shook his head with a huff that left his nose. He scratched at his chin before muttering. “You were a little snappish and grouchy last week,”

Penelope visibly shrinked, thinking Spencer may have just pinched a nerve. “I’m gonna go get you a nice warm coffee, ok?”

It was all she needed to walk away in a hurried movement of heel clicks. You narrowed your eyes at him. Was he insinuating that you had been an utter pain in the ass last week because you were about to get your period?

Noticing this, he half-panicked before quickly jumping into his own defense. “You— uh, I often notice that you get like that the week before which it’s mainly attributed to hormonal fluctuations, particularly changes in estrogen and progesterone levels. They— These hormones can affect neurotransmitters like serotonin and GABA, which regulate mood and emotions.”

“I wasn’t that snappish and grouchy last week,” You knew you had been, because you always were the week before the devil decided to test your limits. You just didn’t really think anyone noticed.

But he did, he always did. And the fact that he did notice was doing funny things to your brain.

He smiled at you. Very softly and almost humorously. “Here—“

You perched up, watching as he reached into his satchel and pushed around in search of— well, something. He pulled out a bag and plopped in on the desk.

You reached over and grabbed the crumpled white paper bag “—I uh, you mentioned wanting a bag of swedish candy a few days ago, especially the sour ones, and me and Morgan walked by a shop and yeah— I figured why not get you some,”

He was doing that very expressive thing he did with his hands where he flared them around as he talked, but you just stared at the bag and then looked up at him.

The pink tint on his cheeks was evident as he avoided eye contact with you. Your shoulders slumped down, bag laying flat in your lap, while trying so hard to keep the tears from coming out of your eyes.

“Can I have a hug?”

Spencer cut himself short from the mumbling, looking up from the floors to study your face. He looked mostly confused, not really being able to pinpoint what was going through your head with your request. He had to be a very, very stupid man to deny your request.

His eyebrows pinched together, probably concerned for you, and that did no better for your upcoming waterworks. His voice came out in the very soft and caring way it always did when he was worried for you.“Yeah, of course,”

He pushed the wheels of the chair he had just pulled out and scooted closer to your own chair. His arms reached out for you, and you slumped forward, wrapping your arms tightly around his neck and burying your face into it.

“Thank you,” You muttered. His hands tightened around your back, giving it a firm rub. He breathed in the sweet scent of you, basking in the strong vanilla that intoxicated every fiber of his being.

Being there for you as a friend, even infatuated as much as he was with you, was hard— but so worth it when he at least was allowed these moments with you.

You wanted to melt into him and not move a single muscle ever again. Why would you when your most comfortable place was in Spencer arms. It could never get better than this.

“You ok?” He mumbled into your hair, and you buried yourself deeper into his neck.

“Yeah, just wanna stay here for a bit,”

He smiled to himself, feeling you cling to him like dead body weight. As long as you felt a little better, he had no room to complain.

[starhvney]

𝐖𝐇𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘'𝐑𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐀𝐓 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: garroth, laurance, dante, travis, zane, vylad, blaze, daniel, dottie, katelyn, lucinda, nana, & cadenza

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒: fluff, slice of life, headcanons on the characters on a beach vacation!

𝐂𝐖: none!

𝐀/𝐍: justice for not including the zvahl siblings during love love paradise or starlight in mys, rip you guys would’ve loved a beach vacation. anyways it’s summer guys! i’m not even a huge fan of summertime but i kind want to go to the beach?? so weird cause i’m totally a zane when i’m at the beach

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

𝐆𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐓𝐇

☆ if it’s a surfable beach, he’s going straight out to the waves

☆ i mean, look at him, he looks like the classic surfer boy from the 2000s

☆ gets really excited if you surf too or want him to teach you

☆ he comes back to slam down some sandwiches before he tries to run back out. you have to pull him back and restrain him to put on more sunscreen and let his food digest.

☆ he always wants to stay or at least come back to watch the sunset over the ocean. it’s the best part!

𝐋𝐀𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐍𝐂𝐄

☆ also goes out to surf with garroth, but he’s not as good so he comes back to shore sooner than garroth does

☆ he’s the guy you go to for getting good beach pics, he just has that good artistic eye

☆ he actually prefers going out to the beach in the evening/at night, loves shell hunting and walking along the boardwalk when everyone is quietly fishing or minding their business. plus the weather is cool! he loves how peaceful it is.

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐓𝐄

☆ this freakin goober 

☆ bro will purposefully let the ball out frisbee fall into the direction of groups of people he wants to talk or flirt with because so he can have an excuse to strike up a conversation

☆ when he gets bored he will be nagging everyone to go eat at the seafood restaurant “it’s like a five minute walk from here and i’m hungry guys, come on!”

𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒

☆ professional swimmer here! well, not really, but he was really good at it in highschool! he competed and everything. someone always has to swim out and yell at him to not go out too far, cause he’s always trying to swim out to the third sandbar by himself

☆ comes back and his face and shoulders/back are always more tan because the sunscreen wore off and he was swimming all the time. (not the pale leg combo, is this just as bad as a farmer’s tan?)

☆ comes back starved from using all of his energy swimming and trying not to drift away from where you guys are on shore, ends upp eating too many sandwiches and everyone gets mad at him cause there aren’t enough

𝐙𝐀𝐍𝐄

☆ lathers himself in lotion and sunscreen and is either staying under the umbrella or dunking himself into the water

☆ he’s really not a fan of the beach, he’d rather vacation in the mountains or something like that, but he still goes since everyone else is going

☆ he just hates the humidity, the texture of the sand, and the stickiness of the salt water. it’s just not his thing

☆ he keeps how miserable he is to himself, but the silly little grumpy pout on his face says everything

☆ like someone get him a drink with a lil spike to it please the poor boy looks like he’s on the verge of death

☆ he’ll enjoy himself a lot more if you give him a sweet treat or if everyone goes to the pool after (except for the…incident)

𝐕𝐘𝐋𝐀𝐃

☆ so chill. he’s such a great guy to lounge with

☆ brings a book to read or a sketchbook, loves to sketch the different kinds of people on the beach and what they’re doing. (major people watcher)

☆ something about everyone else being busy and him being there so calm makes it so easy to get into a deep conversation with him, you two could talk for hours and not even realize the time has passed

𝐁𝐋𝐀𝐙𝐄

☆ oh my gosh

☆ he’s all over the place

☆ wants to build a sandcastle! no, wait, that’s too boring! wants to play frisbee! dang it, he threw it too hard and now he’s running through the ocean like a madman trying to get it back from the waves! shell hunting? nah, he’s gonna race that person’s dog down the shoreline cause it barked at him so now he has to show him who’s boss!

𝐃𝐀𝐍𝐈𝐄𝐋 

☆ sandcastle building king

☆ spends the whole time dedicated to building the most extravagant castle, hauls a huge bucket of the sand molders and starts digging a moat immediately

☆ someone has to come regularly just spray him down with sunscreen cause he’ll forget the world around him and most definitely get burnt

☆ you might pull him away from building if you offer him a sandwich

☆ eventually you may learn that just bringing an extra umbrella and putting it over where he’s building is the best option

𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐄

☆ she wants to be at the beach to play, not relax!

☆ beach volleyball? she’s in until there’s no one left to compete with! (her and katelyn could compete against each other for hours) frisbee? heck yeah, she wants to play frisbee!

☆ she loves going to those outdoor showers to wash off all the sand, then is so excited and looking forward to the crazy good nap she’s going to have back at the hotel/condo/rent house. won’t wake up until everyone decides to go eat at a restaurant for dinner

𝐊𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍

☆ if you can’t find any sunscreen, you can without a doubt go to her and she will have some

☆ gets super competitive with beach volleyball

☆ if no one wants to play volleyball anymore she ventures out into the ocean and doesn’t return until it’s time to leave

☆ if you’re not scared of going out too far in the ocean, she will go out with you to where you can reach the bottom and calmly jump over the larger waves. she could do it all day

☆ she’s another person you have a good bonding talk with while chilling out in the ocean, she opens up to you and you learn stuff you had no idea she had even experienced before

𝐋𝐔𝐂𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐀

☆ opposite of katelyn, has hawaiian tropic tanning oil on her at all times

☆ doesn’t go into the ocean unless she’s ready to go straight to shower off. can’t stand the sticky feeling of salt water and then going back into the sand

☆ is the one who brings the speaker, and she has such a good beach playlist

☆ sunbathes and sips on a drink the whole time, queen really enjoys herself

☆ she goes to whatever nearby beach bar there is to order the drinks that come in pineapples or coconuts and has the umbrellas in them for everyone

𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀

☆ packs an entire picnic for the beach

☆ like, legit carries a full icebox with a selection of drinks and a bag full of sandwiches, chips, sweets, etc. 

☆ is obsessed with seashell hunting! she gets so excited when she finds large or colorful ones. she runs to everyone when she finds a conch shell telling them to listen to the ocean inside of it. brings home a small collection every time and has a box full of (mostly pink) seashells in her room.

𝐂𝐀𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐙𝐀

☆ has so many swimsuits and outfits planned

☆ if yours gets dirty or messed up she drags you to her suitcase to choose from like ten different pairs and combinations you can mix and match.

☆ makes handmade jewelry from different trinkets and shells she finds, she goes hunting for potential charms with nana

©starhvney, 2024. please do not steal or repost my works as your own.

[apoptoses]

Armand, Haussmann, and Paris:

The thing about Paris that's not really discussed in the VC books themselves is the Haussmann project.

In 1853 Napoleon III commissioned Haussman to completely renovate Paris. The plan was to tear down all of the old structures and rebuild the city; reorganizing the streets and reshaping them to accommodate more green spaces, and replacing smaller buildings with taller apartment blocks in more uniform style.

The Paris Armand knew when he arrived as the coven master and which he came to know as the theater leader would have looked something like this:

Dark, winding streets leading off wide boulevards and short, leaning buildings.

The Haussman project would see all of these places systematically torn down, occupants removed to other areas of the city while new buildings were put in their place. In some areas workers were destroying and rebuilding things 24 hours a day.

At this time Armand would have been living at the theater on the boulevard du Temple, Paris's street of theaters:

This dagguerotype shows the boulevard in 1838. This painting, in 1862, looks much the same:

But by 1863 all but one theater on the street had been destroyed, and that was only because that theater was on the opposite side of the street shown in the painting. How and why it wasn't pulled down, I don't know- no information on it seems to exist, just like no explanation for the very small handful of other old structures that were left untouched.

That theater, the Théâtre Déjazet, still exists today. But it was established in 1770 by Comte de Artois, so while it could have been Anne's inspiration for Armand's theater it's not the 'rickety wooden rat trap' that seats 300 that Lestat describes in TVL.

Anyways, knowing all of this, I think it makes even more sense why Armand so quickly grabbed onto Louis and was ready to run away with him at any cost.

Armand, who'd been kidnapped from the monks, who'd had his palazzo torn out from under him, who'd established something of an existence under Les Innocents and was then ripped out of that world when the cemetery was destroyed. Who was watching the city he'd finally come to know get systematically torn apart. Everything that was familiar to him was being taken again.

So why not let Louis burn the theater? He arrived in Paris in 1870, just as Haussman was dismissed. But the work of destroying and rebuilding Paris was set to carry on. Chances were the Theatre de Vampires would be next, and if that were the case there's no way the crypts beneath the place would remain safe and undiscovered.

And if he'd stayed where would they go during the renovation? What would they do? What would the point be in continuing trying to run a coven he was bored of and a life he didn't care for in a new location?

Armand was going to have to begin again somewhere- better that be with Louis, out in the world, than roaming a now unfamiliar Paris. And even though he didn't burn the theater himself, allowing/instigating Louis to do it still gave him more control than letting a stranger come in at some unpredictable moment to demolish things all over again.

(And what of Lestat, what does he feel about these changes? He never could have shown Louis the Paris he knew and loved, which existed when Louis was still mortal- that Paris was largely gone)

Chances were Anne might not have known most of this at the time she wrote interview or even TVL. But I think it still makes a lot of sense and brings up a point about Armand and immortality that I don't see brought up much- that not only do vampires lose every mortal they've ever known, but with time they also see the destruction of every place they've ever known or loved.

(ps: I'm not an expert on this topic or anything, so if anyone does know why some buildings were unchanged or has any interesting historical info to add by all means please, reblog and add it on!)

[evilminji]

You know what? I just had A Thought(tm)~☆

Danny. Our bby boy. MINDING HIS BUSINESS. Maybe visiting one of his buddies in the Realms after he graduates. When he just?? Get full on tackled from the sky.

And like?

Huh.

THIS hasn't happened in a bit. Not since he's become king. Legit, no one dares. He's honestly kinda missed it. Alright, square up... Mr. Uuuuuh.... Who are you?

And it's this barely formed New Ghost. Still in that glitch-y goopy blob phase and everything. Is Baby. Why... why does this infant Want To Fight God? I mean. He Respects It(tm), no lie, but? Not exactly usual for him?

And it turns out? This dude is some rando hero. He basicly JUST died. By all rights SHOULD be resting and gathering his strength to Form Right. But he's so worried for his team mates and everyone else he CAN'T. Recognized a fellow Hero's Costume even at a distance.

Please. PLEASE! You have to help him! We have to WARN everybody!

And Danny is just? Oh no. This Actual Infant Baby is gonna Anxiety himself to Actual Second Death at this rate. Yes! Sure! Just CALM DOWN! Anything you need buddy! BREATHE.

And this dude? Who died? Is legit a minor player who got WAY too deep but refused to abandoned People In Need(tm). It happens. It HURTS. But he saved a LOT of lives before he went down. Him and his team were just some Minor Heros from Belarus. How they ended up in deep space? Even THEY couldn't tell you.

They couldn't even bring him home.

He forgives them.

He could NEVER blame his friends. Not for this. The planet is in danger. Some... some THING. An invasion. The League has to be made aware. He DIED helping a planet try to evacuate all that they could. He... at least he...

He can't remember if the Eggs got out. They... they're like babies. A whole room full of toddlers who couldn't run. They had to de-connect from the main building to lift it out. He can't... can't...

He saved them... right? Held on.. long enough? Why can't he.. he...

Danny has to make him focus be for the kid spirals. Don't think of your last moments. Purpose. You NEED to do something right now, right?

Right! The League! We gotta warn them! And... okay. Danny can totally do that. (What LEAGUE??!) He DEFINITELY knows who you are talking about and will tell them Right Away. YOU however are gonna rest up.

So he leaves the kiddo with Lunch Lady. Mother and Frightening Matriarch Extraordinaire. Lunch Box promises to SIT on him if he tries to sneak off. Good kid. Now eat your soup before you BECOME soup.

Time to bully the eyeballs. Whoms't the F*ck is this "league"? And where does he find it? Talk. He has sand and he's not afraid to use it. Don't MAKE him get out the pepper grinder! Yeah. That's what he THOUGHT.

After much, prolonged and unnecessary, whining and dramatic threatening... he gets a printed out map. Cheapskates even used flimsy paper. He gets there. Jaunt is even kinda nice. He says hi to a few folks he hasn't seen in a while.

Opens a portal.

Steps out.

Gets punched in the face. RUDE! He punches the flying blue man back. Dents their wall. Not even a LITTLE sorry about that now! See if HE does you a favor aga-... is that his Ex? John?

John! Constantine you B@STARD. YOU OWE ME 20 BUCKS. *Ten different hands slap a twenty on the table at his feet, including Constantine. Who is refusing to look at anybody.* Well, okay then. Debt payed. Gonna buy himself a shake or something, after this.

ANYWAY~ Good News Or Bad News?

He is met with silence. It's like they've never seen an ethereal, giant, glowing man with a suit that looks like a cut out of the night sky, step out of an eye searing rip in reality before. Man they're lives must be boring. But frankly? Danny can wait. It's not HIS reality that's gonna get messed up. He can take care of it if the wanna be Wah Babies. Good News or Bad News??? Pick one.

He sits back in the air and waits.

@stealingyourbones @cyrwrites

[madbard]

Headcanon that Dust absolutely resents how much he resembles Classic. There are elements of this back in Dusttale, with how Dust prefers to hide his face and identity while building his LV, but this is more out of practicality (and even shame) than anything else. He doesn’t want his victims to recognize him because it’ll make it harder for him to sneak up on people, and a part of him really doesn’t want them to know that he was the one who killed him. The longer this goes on, the more his disguise transforms from a way of hiding his shame to a way of distancing himself from who he used to be. Sans would never kill all those people, but he isn’t Sans anymore. He’s not really a person anymore, he is the act of murder itself. He is Dust.

I think this would get way worse when Dust leaves his AU and enters the multiverse though, because right off the bat he encounters murderers, just like him… who don’t look innocent. Horror, Killer and even Cross are set completely apart from who they used to be. They are scarred and twisted and nightmarish. Looking at them doesn’t trigger memories of a happier, innocent past. They have renamed themselves, taken on a new identity - but for them, this change was physical as well. No one will ever mistake them for Sans.

So Dust wears his hood. He hides his face. He keeps his magic burning constantly, because if he stops his eyes will darken and there will be nothing setting him apart from the monster who died, years ago, the first time a knife ripped through his chest. The others realize it, too… Horror probably wouldn’t care either way. Cross would understand the desire to distance oneself from an old identity, but would ultimately be in a similar boat as Horror. Killer would bring this up to taunt Dust once he realized it bothered him - and would quickly get bored with it. Ultimately, the others would just accept Dust’s refusal to show his face, his hatred of his own voice and reflection, as part of who he is.

I like to imagine that one day, the gang get into a serious combat. It’s vicious and close; both sides are bloody and exhausted by the time it’s over. If one side wins, it’s by a hair, and not much of a victory. In the dazed silence following the battle, Nightmare slowly assesses each of his acolytes, ensuring that they are still alive and intact. When he reaches Dust, he pauses. The assassin is bloodied, slumped over. His HP is steady but low; he’s taken a lot of hits - more than most monsters would have been able to survive. His hand vanishes beneath his hood, carefully inspecting his face. That night, back at the castle, Dust steps in front of a mirror. He takes a deep breath and, for the first time in years, removes his hood to look his reflection in the eye. The combat left deep wounds across his face, injuries that would never heal completely, that would leave him permanently scarred.

Dust looks at his battered reflection and smiles.

[gt-daboss]

The Double Lie

Warnings: PTSD implied, Heavy Angst, lots of crying, self-hate, lots of tension, kinda whumpy (but a happy ending!)

~1500 words

(This is by far my most self-indulgent story I've ever posted)

“Honey!” A sickly sweet voice called from the kitchen, her voice as songlike as he had always remembered it, yet like everything after his escape, it felt different. “The cookies are cooled, do… do you want to eat them together?”

There it was, the very fact that she had to ask. He hated it. Why did she have to ask him to eat cookies together- why? He knew the answer, but it only made it worse: Because I asked her to.

Before he could even properly respond, her head peeked through the crack in the doorway. Her eye, larger than his head, scanned the room for him. “Oh- were you sleeping?” Cleo suddenly whispered, before spotting him on his desk.

Markus almost didn’t want to respond, as though if he stayed silent his problems would too, but alas… “No, sorry, just… focused…” he almost left it at that, but seeing her dejected face made him stir up some extra courage, “I-I’d love for a cookie, actually, that would be great.”

Building up courage to talk to your wife, you’re so pathetic

It didn’t help that she was taking deliberately quiet steps, no doubt so that she wouldn’t ‘startle’ him like she had their reunion together.

With a clack, Cleo set the plate down on his desk and sat down opposite to him. The smell of her cooking made him look up at the treat she was offering. Three cookies for herself, and one -much smaller, though still giant-sized- for him. The scene brought back so- so many memories, but as with everything, the same creeping feeling returned to ruin it.

“So…” Cleo said, plucking the chocolate-infused wafer between two fingers, raising it quickly to the sky. “How’s the book going? Your editor finally ready to publish?”

Right, his book, the story of what happened to him, thankfully, he had already finished it, meaning he would hopefully be able to leave that part of his life behind. “It’s going… we’re hoping to finalize it this week actually.”

Cleo’s eyes sparked with joy, her wonderful smile that he loved lit up like a firework, even he couldn’t suppress a smile seeing it, she was just that infectious. “Oh my god, that's wonderful! You better eat your cookies now, you deserve it. Plus,” she said, in a singsong voice, raising her treat to her mouth and taking a bite, “these have gotta be the best cookies I’ve ever made, seriously babe.”

But instead of responding in kind, supporting his wife, or even just saying nothing at all, He couldn’t. Without even thinking, he blurted

“Can- can you chew quieter?” already as he said it he felt like an asshole, Cleo had gone out of her way to give him a treat, to help him- And he was spitting on her. Quickly scrambling, he added, “It- damnit- It just… it reminds me of uhm… of what those people did.”

Cleo stared blankly, if only for a moment, but it was all he needed to let the self-loathing continue. It was only a matter of time at this point; he was a shell of who he once was, he knew it, his friends knew it, and now, Cleo would know it too.

“Oh- oh uhm, yeah, of course, of course I can. Yeah, that was kind of silly of me to not notic-”

“No,” he interrupted, he couldn’t stand the thought of slowly losing her, slowly watching as her love for him, her love for who he once was, slowly fall apart as she realized that man was gone. At least- at least, if I go out on my own terms, I can save her the time of realizing it for herself, at least this will be quick. “You- you don’t have to appologize for me being a half assed piece of shit.”

Cleo’s eyes widened, stuttering for a moment, “Markus, you-”

“I just- why do you even humor my requests when they are stuff like that? You’re a giant, and you need to eat, I… I shouldn’t even be asking you to do stupid things like that to make myself feel better.”

Markus couldn’t even meet her eyes, but he felt them boring a hole into him, like ripping off a band-aid.

“It-it’s not stupid if it makes you more comfortable,” she responded, but her voice sounded strained, like she was struggling to talk to him, his heart ached at the thought, but it has to be this way.

“Dammit Clee’ I- I just- I’m scared of you chewing loudly, I’m- my heart races when I hear loud footsteps,” He responded, eyes averted as he grit his teeth and looked down, as if that would ease the pain. “I can’t even be around you without making you follow my bullshit ‘rules’ because I’m- I’m scared, and I don’t know why but I am. How- How can you even be around someone like that?”

Now Cleo’s voice sounded very strained, a giant-sized frog in her throat blocking her airways. he knew if he looked up he would see her distraught face, tears brimming her eyes. “Because, Markus,” She said, sniffing and swallowing her frog, “I love you. Is that not enough?”

There was no turning back now, “Cleo,” he started, his own vocals betraying him as well as he struggled to get his thoughts past his tongue. “The man you used to love is gone, I-I’m not him anymore, I’m not strong, I’m not brave, I’m pathetic. You don’t deserve someone who can’t-”

“That's enough!” Cleo shrieked, “I won’t I won’t hear another damn word. Not one. Not one!” she glared daggers into him, as if daring him to interrupt her passion. Eyes wet, she could still see his small form on her desk, the person she had failed to protect.

“I said I love you,” She screamed, her voice shaking with a hurricane of rage, fear, and love. “Not you from the god damn past, not your- your imagined version of yourself where you are ‘strong-’ I love,” she hiccuped from the tears, before jamming a finger in his direction. “You. The man standing in front of me right god damn now, and nobody else!”

Neither responded for a while; only the heavy, exasperated breathing of the giant and her occasional hiccups were heard.

“Cleo…” but his words ignited the fire inside her once again,

“You- you wanna talk about the real ‘half assed piece of shit,’ well you’re looking right at her! Right in front for everyone to see,” she rebuked, tears streaming down her face like a river. “The only- the only giant who would let their human lover get kidnapped right under her fucking nose because she was such a half assed piece of filth!”

“You- You talk about strength as if somehow- as if SOMEHOW, you have lost it. I can’t imagine how, considering while I was sitting at home, with all the ‘strength’ in the world, utterly fucking useless. All I could do was sit in this house, and cry, cry until my voice went hoarse, so nothing. While you not only saved yourself, but everyone else who had been captured by those vile, despicable cockroaches- I couldn’t even get myself off the floor to HELP YOU!”

…

It seemed Cleo had wanted to say more, but her body wouldn’t let her- voice hoarse and constant hiccups, sniffs, and floods of tears making it impossible to do anything but look at her lover while she tried to calm down. It wasn’t easy, but eventually both of their hearts stopped racing at last. Wiping her tears from her eyes, Cleo moved from her chair to her knees, looking upward at Markus on the desk.

“I just… I just-” she tried to start, but her fire from earlier was gone, “I just never got to say that I was sorry, sorry for letting that happen to you- you came back and I-I- I wanted to say it right away, but I knew you were hurting and didn’t want to put my own stress on your plate, All of this could have been prevented in the first place if I… if I…”

“Cleo,” he interrupted, again, he couldn’t stand to see the love of his life in such constant distress, especially with him being the cause. “It’s not your fault.” Instead of responding right away, Cleo simply looked up at him.

And he looked back.

And suddenly, after being pressed against the neck of his wife in a hug, squeezing as tight as she could- as he did the same back- their problems seemed to go away. At least for this moment when they were together.

.

.

.

Phew~ done. Yeah, as I said at the beginning, this is definitely my most self-indulgent piece I've written. But I hope it was still enjoyable to everyone who read who ISN'T me lol

[sabrina-kpop]

Can I request a hashira x fem reader one-shot who has the powers of winter from aespa's new Supernova but the drawback is that she gets sick and vomits blood + she has lucky girl syndrome (which means she's lucky asf)

ིྀ∘˙༺𝐵𝑜𝑑𝑦 𝐵𝐴𝑁𝐺༻˙∘ ིྀ

Thank you for this request!! I have shaken up the story a little... Reader is the youngest of the hashira and is like a little sister to all of them! (This does not include child x adult)

WARNING: this includes Vomiting, blood, cursing, mentions of child abuse and slight p3doph1lia if you feel uncomfortable with these topics please don't read

You are grateful for having the hashira as your family, They saved you when you we're weak. And treated you like human. You were experimented on by a higher rank demon, you were to become a weapon to kill hashiras and swordsmen.

When Gyomei found you, you were terrified by what he would do to you, but he later then convinced you that he was trust worthy and you should come with him.

When the two of you arrived at The Ubuyashiki Mansion Gyomei immediately took you to a place you later learned was called the butterfly estate. When the both of you arrived you were greeted by two women.

One was taller and had long healthy black hair with a two butterfly pins on the sides of her hair, the other was a lot shorter and had her hair up and she had black hair with purple tips and looked angry.

The two women took you to a room to do a check up once they found out you were covered with scars and syringe wounds they immediately began treating you.

That was eight years ago and now your 13 and a hashira, everything in your life is perfect. You are currently out on a mission with Giyuu, although he isn't that talkative his presence comforting.

You two were called to a nearby village were it was reported that young girls went missing during the evening.

Nonetheless you and Giyuu arrived and the both of you decide to stay in a inn to recharge do to you finding a hundred dollar bill on the ground and insisting Giyuu to take you to go shopping for hours....

"Giyuu-san!" You said looking over at the dark hair male who's currently eating sake daikon.

"Hm?" He hummed unable to speak do to his mouth being full with his favorite dish which made you giggle.

"I'm bored.. Let's play a game!" You said as Giyuu look at you. "Let's see..Think of a number! " you said happily waiting for the water hashira to let you know when he's ready. "Ok." He plainly said still eating the food.

"Hmm.. Seven! "

He then nodded, not fazed by your luck as you jump up a down, acting as if your luck wasn't the cause of you guessing ."Giyuu-san let play aga-"

BOOM

You were interrupted by a loud bang outside, you and giyuu immediately got your blades and headed out.

"Y/n protect the people in the building I'll fight! " yelled Giyuu but you couldn't help but feel angry on how protective he is of you.

"But I wanna fight! I never get too!" You barked back.

"Y/n now is not the time for argui-" Giyuu was cut off do the demon attacking which caught him off guard. You followed his order and began helping people on the side.

"You're a hashira aren't you? Oh how I just love how you guys scream in agony as I rip you limb by limb!" Said the ugly demon as he continued to attack Giyuu in which he doged and used his water breathing.

"Missed! Haha! You hashiras are so weak now a days!" The demon said as he used his blood demon art to stab Giyuu in the leg restricting his movements

"Giyuu-san!" You yelled

Suddenly the demons gaze turned to you and the little boy in your hands.

"Mmm! How I love young innocent girls!"

He said as he used his blood demon art to send blood like blades to your direction.

Without thinking you used your special ability to dodge fly high up in the air with the boy in your arms"

"What the fuck!? Are you a demon!?" The demon said as Giyuu signaled you to distract them for he can get a clean slice of on neck. You nodded forgetting the drawbacks that this plan will take.

As the demon uses his blood demon art to send sharp spikes at you you kept dodging and using your abilities to pick up stuff and try to him trying to restrict him from catching Giyuu.

The demon managed to stab your thigh as you scream and fell hugging the little boy in your arms so he wouldn't get hurt.

Giyuu took this chance to painfully jump behind the demon and slice his neck off. The demon's head fell to the floor and began to curse out Giyuu, as he simply ignored it as he watched the demon disintegrate Into thin air.

*Cough* "G-Giyuu" he immediately flashed his eyes to the sound of your raspy voice as he saw a blood bath coming from your mouth. "G-Giyuu-san take the boy a-and find his mother" you said as you vomited more blood.

In a state of shock and fear, he immediately picked you and the boy up and ran as fast as he could to the butterfly estate.

Upon arrival, Giyuu started shouting for Shinobu which is unusual for him scaring most of the butterfly girls.

Giyuu slide the door open as hard as he can which startled Shinobu. "Tomioka-san what's wrong with yo- Oh my!" An interrupted Shinobu said as she laid eyes upon your bloody limp body in Giyuu's arms.

Shinobu immediately called for backup and she took you from her arms and ran to a surgery room.

"Hey dumbass" I certain white headed man said behind the water hashira as he turned around.

"The hell happened to you? Why are you covered in blood and why the fuck you were yelling?"

Giyuu looked at the Sanemi as he plainly stated. "It's y/n she used her abilities to much to a pint where she couldn't handle it."

"Why the fuck would she do that!" Yelled the wind hashira "And why didn't you stop her!" He blamed. Giyuu looked away ignoring him as he waited patiently for Shinobu.

"She's okay, she just needs to rest for some weeks and she'll be good as new!" Said the black and purple haired girl. "Poor thing she looks so weak" said Mitsuri "Yea no shit she lost a lot of blood" said Sanemi and Iguro gave him a death stare.

The hashira's decided to visit you after they found out about your conditions, checking up on you everyday as Shinobu gave you medicine.

When you finally came to you were needed by nine familiar faces.

Mitsuri and Rengoku gifted young a whole bunch of food.

Uzui gifted you some nice jewelry.

Iguro gifted you a pair of new socks.

Sanemi asked if you were feeling well time to time.

Shinobu gave you some butterfly clips and some poison to help you during battle.

Gyomei sent you a whole bunch of prayers.

Muichiro gifted some of his origami.

And lastly Giyuu gave you an apology for not protecting you. You said that I didn't matter and that your safe and should leave it in the pass. But Giyuu swore from now on he would protect in anyway possible.

You're grateful for having this family and hope to make more memories with them.

[restlessmaknae]

fire prince // sungho

One stormy night, a royal entourage arrives at the Phoenix Inn you've been running ever since your father left. Turns out Prince Sungho is as humble as one can be, and you quickly fall for him, but his visits afterwards hint that he might feel the same way.

➳ Characters: prince!Sungho x innkeeper!female reader/you

➳ Genre: magical kingdom au, royal male lead x commoner female lead, elemental powers au, fluff, comedy, one angst scene but it's a happy ending!

➳ Words: 8.9k

➳ Warning: one small mention of past wars, reader's father drank a lot in the past and eventually left, metaphorical cut and bleeding

➳ Dedicated to: @dat-town ❤️ Merry Christmas, dear! Wishing you all the best for 2025! I'll always be there for you, you know that. Love ya! ❤️❤️❤️

➳ Author's note: Check out the you are my fire, my wind, my flower // magical kingdom series masterpost!

➳ Header taken from this Weverse picture

It was a quiet, chilly day at the inn until the wind outside picked up its pace, and soon enough, a heavy storm followed. The rain was knocking on the tightly closed windows fervently, erratically, it even attacked the rooftop, so much that you felt like it was pouring straight onto the building. Sometimes the wind also made screeching noises, and the creaking of the wooden floors seemed even more ominous than usually. When the thunder struck, it felt like it was ripping off the horizon, so loud they could be heard.

You closed the kitchen already, so the staff could go home before the storm made it impossible for them to walk even just a couple of miles. Some of the staff insisted on staying though - like Intak, the stableboy, who said that it was more important to take care of the horses than himself because he was a big boy, he wasn’t afraid of storms anymore, but the horses were. Chanyoung, the porter, also stayed even though you told him that it was unlikely you would have many guests for the night because of the weather.

Even your dearest friend, Haewon – who was working with you, helping to share the burden as the innkeeper after your father had left – insisted on staying. Or more like, chattering your ears off for the rest of the night.

“Worst case scenario, we will have the most boring night in the history of the Phoenix Inn, and we will have a good laugh about it one day. Best scenario would be, of course, to have a mysterious, handsome young man walk into the inn, and fall in love with me,” she reasoned very seriously, and you had to give it to her that she had a very wild imagination.

“Because mysterious, handsome young men just fall from the trees around here, right?” You retorted after you put some more wood onto the fireplace, so that it wouldn’t die out. Not only was its light important for such a stormy, dark night, but it would hopefully provide enough warmth, so you wouldn’t need to walk around in your thickest coat.

“I’m just saying, anything can happen these days. You know, even that woman at the market who–”

Haewon was cut off by rhythmic knocking on the door. You exchanged a glance with her before you averted your eyes to Chanyoung who stood by the door. Beside him, Mr Kim – the usual night porter – looked out of the window, but due to the constantly falling rain, he could only see the shadows of four figures. Nevertheless, he was brave enough to open the door for the intruders, and all eyes in the hall went to the four strangers.

First, one muscular man dressed like a soldier came to the front, followed by one dressed in a thick coat, his face almost entirely covered by its hood. Then, they parted to make way for the third one who was dressed in burgundy-black with dark cotton pants and a pearl-dotted coat, even his dress shoes seemed polished. Even though the latter had an umbrella, a few raindrops sat atop of his locks, and he might have been the most beautiful man you had laid your eyes on.

The coated figure got rid of his hood, then cleared his throat before announcing:

“His Royal Highness, Prince Sungho of the Fire Kingdom, wishes to inquire if there is any vacant room for four people for the night.”

The room completely froze for a few seconds before everyone dropped into a clumsy courtesy. Or well, some form of it because you weren’t used to seeing royalty anywhere around here, much less at the Inn. You could see Haewon’s impressed face and mischievous glint, but you could also see Chanyoung’s perplexed reaction, and you had a feeling that yours mirrored the boy’s.

Most people around here had never seen the royal family. You were working tirelessly just to put food on the table, and you didn’t go to the palace’s events when common people were invited, simply because you lived far from the palace. Your Inn was actually closer to the Water Kingdom than the capital of the Fire Kingdom. So seeing the prince and his entourage at your humble little accommodation was more than baffling.

“P-prince Sungho?” Mr Kim blabbered, and you had never seen the forty-something man more flustered than when the young man who announced their arrival confirmed the question with a bob of his head. He was fairly young, around Prince Sungho’s age, but his expression was stern and his stance confident. You wondered who he could be.

“Y/N?” Haewon giggled as she made her way towards you, and her voice was enough to pull you back to reality.

“Oh yes. Yes, we do have enough room for four people… Your Highness,” you added belatedly before they could take your head (did they really do that or was it just the groundless rumours?), and you could see an amused glint in the eyes of your best friend.

“Can we talk to the innkeeper?”

“I am the innkeeper,” you answered matter-of-factly, and you didn’t know whether the young man in front was some sort of royal advisor, knight or administrative personnel to the prince, but he was the one who exchanged a glance with Prince Sungho upon hearing this piece of information. You knew what was coming, so you beat them to it; to have to ask the question on their mind.

“My father left about a year ago, and I’ve been the innkeeper ever since,” you confessed, not batting an eye. You knew it was rare that a young woman your age would be the innkeeper, but it just turned out this way. The reason half of your staff was also in their twenties was because without having your father around, most of the previous ones resigned. They didn’t want to work under a young woman, and some had been very vocal about it.

Awkwardness seeped into the thunder-stricken atmosphere, and it was even more embarrassing having to listen to the wind knocking on the windows when everyone was so silent. Maybe that’s why the prince was quick to dissolve the tension in the air.

“This will definitely do, Taesan. Thank you,” the prince decided as he turned to the coated figure, and you nodded, acknowledging his words.

“You said four people, right?”

“Yes, the coachman is still outside,” the so-called Taesan replied. You immediately asked Mr Kim and Chanyoung to help with the luggage, and let Intak know that he would need to take care of not only horses but a carriage as well.

“Is it fine with you if we store the carriage inside the stables? We do not ever have guests with carriages, I am afraid that is the best we can do… Your Highness,” you reminded yourself to address him properly, but he didn’t seem like he would mean harm. If anything, his eyes widened in a surprised manner when you even mentioned taking care of the carriage.

Once the porters came back with the luggage, you showed the way to the assigned rooms. The wooden stairs leading up to the first floor suddenly seemed too narrow with four of the royal guests, Mr Kim and Chanyoung bringing the luggage and you and Haewon following behind with four jugs of fresh water. You showed Taesan and Prince Sungho to their own rooms while Haewon showed the soldier and the coachman their own ones. You let them know that if they needed any assistance and no one was around, they merely needed to ring the bell on the desk in the hall, and someone would come and help.

However, the most important thing on their mind seemed to be food.

“Oh well,” you looked at Haewon who looked back at you with a slight pout. “Most of our kitchen staff went home because of the storm, so we cannot provide you with the usual meals of the menu. However, if you do not mind, you can join us for dinner. Those who are working here will have dinner together soon.”

You were surprised yet again that Prince Sungho gave in without hesitation – he didn’t seem disgusted or appalled by the lack of fancy options, and didn’t make a comment on the fact that he couldn’t choose what he was about to eat. You appreciated it because you were already so embarrassed by the fact that they were here, in your inn, and you were sure that it wasn’t up to the level of luxury that they expected or that they had been used to.

While the guests were settling in, you notified the ladies in the kitchen about four extra people joining you for dinner. On the other hand, since the headcount for the night was less than usual either way, it was fine, you had enough ingredients to make a big enough batch of hearty stew with seasonal vegetables and sourdough bread.

You were just about to let your new guests know that dinner was ready when you bumped into Prince Sungho and Taesan descending the stairs. They both got rid of their coats, and if anything, the prince just seemed even more ethereal in his cherry-red buttoned cardigan and silky white shirt with a ribbon in front. The way his chestnut-brown locks fell into his eyes recklessly made you want to toss them aside, so that you could look into his pearl-like orbs, but even just the thought seemed awfully inappropriate. He looked so elegant and chic compared to you, let alone the slightly run-down wall beside him which seemed ridiculously basic. That definitely needed a repaint.

Taesan, on the other hand, wore a black turtleneck that was tucked into his wide cotton pants. You heard that mostly royalty and people of high rank wore burgundy all the time which was the colour of your kingdom, however, you had never seen it for yourself. You yourself couldn’t care less about the colour of your clothes.

“You are just in time for dinner,” you announced when you found your voice, and the prince gave you a grateful smile in return. He turned to Taesan to say something to him, and he disappeared within seconds to fetch up the coachman and the soldier with them.

You led the four of them to the dining room where most of the staff already had a seat. This was where guests had complimentary breakfast, and they could also ask for lunch or dinner during the day. Obviously, not only guests could come and enjoy the meals as it was more profitable for the inn to welcome visitors and people from the town, too.

There was another round of awkward bowing and curtsy when the others caught sight of the royal entourage after they had been told who was here to visit. Prince Sungho merely waved his hand in a somewhat coy manner.

“Oh, no need for such formalities every time you see me. Please, take a seat, all of you!” He gestured for those around, and even though everyone was a bit reluctant to be the first to sit down, Intak took it upon himself to do so and sat onto the wooden chair with a loud thud. He decided to sit on the prince’s left while Taesan sat on his right, followed by the coachman and the soldier who took a seat across from them.

You could have easily joined the housekeeping ladies at the end of the table, but you felt like it was your duty as the innkeeper to keep an eye on the prince, to see if everything was up to his liking. To be precise, as much as your humble little services allowed.

So you took a seat beside the coachman, and everyone helped themselves to stew and bread, taking turns to scoop themselves some food from the three bowls that were placed at the front, middle and end of the table. Intak even scooped some for the prince, and though he seemed surprised, he appeared somewhat amused by the gesture, too.

It turned out that Intak and Prince Sungho were actually the same age though it was very difficult to believe it with the prince sitting there in all his glory and Intak being there in his worn-out pants and carrot-stained jumper that Mrs Park from the kitchen had knitted for him last winter. Despite the obvious difference between the two of them, the prince answered the boy’s overzealous questions about palace life in detail, sprinkled with a little humour here and there, and the stableboy made him laugh so much, it was endearing to see. His laughter was so genuine, you found yourself laughing along with them on more than one occasion.

Soon enough, you got to know more about your new guests; that Juyeon was the coachman and Leedo was the soldier; Taesan was the right-hand man of Sungho’s, his advisor and administrative personnel; how he had been chosen through six different tests while being the youngest of the applicants, and that they were on their way to the Water Kingdom to talk about trade matters.

It was all in good spirit, and if it hadn’t been for the thought constantly looming over you that they came from the royal court, thus they were obviously very different from you, you would have treated this conversation as a nice way to get to know ordinary guests.

“Thank you so much for the lovely dinner! This was probably the best stew I have eaten in a long time,” Prince Sungho announced after all of their plates were emptied, and turned to Mrs Park who blushed like a teenage girl.

“Ah, you flutter me!”

“I mean it. It was really good,” he insisted, sparks flying in his eyes, and your little heart did a somersault at the sight. How could he be like this, so genuine, so kind and getting on so well with common people when he was a prince? You couldn’t fathom it, and even though you had never had any fantasies of royalty falling in love with you like Haewon did, it was hard not to be affected by Prince Sungho’s words when he complimented the Phoenix Inn during dinner.

You were thankful that they put an end to dinner by standing up and retreating to their rooms because you weren’t sure that you would be able to take more from them. It was all just too good to be true.

That night, you watched the flames in the fireplace dance along to the rhythm of the rain hitting the windows. Even though it had been a few hours since the storm had started, it hadn’t seemed to die down. There had been quieter periods in between, but the wind had picked up its intensity and the thunder had returned, making you unable to fall asleep. Or to go to bed in the first place.

You had sent Haewon home, but only because she lived in the house across the inn, otherwise, you wouldn’t have insisted because there were plenty of vacant rooms for everyone who didn’t want to bear the storm. After dinner, you had asked everyone if they planned to stay, and helped them to more blankets, candles and lanterns for the night before retreating to your own room, only to find yourself restless by the cacophony outside.

So you decided to sit beside the fireplace in the hall in one of those inviting armchairs that you could sit hours in. You prepared a book to pass the time with, but you spent a few minutes just daydreaming and thinking about what had happened in the past few hours.

Until someone decided to join you.

“Oh, is there anything you need, Your Highness?” You got to your feet immediately when instead of Intak crawling out for some late night cookies or Chanyoung asking for more candles, you were pulled back to reality by Prince Sungho’s voice.

He had changed into looser clothes rid of any pattern or jewellery, but you could still tell that his nightwear was made of the finest material, smooth and thick, perfect for such a chilly night. He wore a knee-length night robe as well, something that highlighted his broad shoulders and slender build.

“No, not at all. I just can’t sleep well in unfamiliar places, but don’t get me wrong, it’s not because of the inn. Not at all,” he justified fervently before you could jump to the conclusion that it must be because his bed was less comfortable than his own bed at the palace, the room was smaller than he preferred it or something of the sort.

You nodded, signalling that you believed his words. He asked for your permission to sit down, and how could you say no? Still, you appreciated the sentiment, and watched with curious eyes as he sat down beside you, claiming the other armchair to himself, so now you were both facing the fireplace.

“It must be hard for you when you travel a lot,” you mused out loud, watching his expression change from slightly awkward to surprised to resigned.

“You get used to it after a while, and it’s never too bad to be wary of your surroundings and others around you,” he explained somewhat lightly, but there was a serious edge to his words. He was looking at you, but still, you had a feeling that he was replaying some memories in his head.

His words made you wonder if he could ever allow himself to fully relax, and the thought made you sad. You couldn’t imagine always being on alert even though you had that period in your life right after you had taken over the management of the inn. You had been certain that someone would break in or commit something horrible, and you wouldn’t be able to do anything about it.

However, you had gradually become more comfortable with the responsibilities and the duties, and besides, Mr Kim was a light sleeper, and probably the most masculine man in town, so no one would have dared to come in had they known he was here.

On the other hand, you couldn’t know for sure whether having someone like Leedo around him made the prince feel more reassured, but you didn’t ask about it.

“Do you enjoy leading this life?” You inquired instead, genuinely curious because it must have been a difficult life with all the rules to follow, the etiquette, even the dresses he had to wear. Sure, he had the luxury that most people around here didn’t, but still… you always thought of royalty as rather lonely people.

Prince Sungho didn’t say anything for a few seconds, he was still looking at you, looking into your eyes, but his lips parted slightly, as if he was taken aback by your question. Thinking that it must have meant that you offended him, you immediately apologised:

“I am sorry if I crossed the line with my question, I did not mean–”

“No, no, it’s not about that,” he objected, waving his hands in front of his chest after awakening from his stupor. He even let out a giggle, probably feeling silly for making you feel this way.

“It’s just that you are the first person to ask this question,” he started as he leaned back into the armchair, interlacing his fingers and dropping them into his lap. “People usually assume that I have an easy life, and don’t want to hear complaints about it. I can understand that though,” he added, and as he started talking about his life, it felt like listening to an ordinary person – despite the context of his words –, he was so open and genuine about it.

About the fact that though the pressure was there, he felt like he could be a part of change if he wanted, and that he could help out a lot of people. He also enjoyed the business and trade within and outside of the kingdom as those had always interested him. He also loved that he could practise using his powers safely within the walls of the palace, and even though he didn’t really have the chance to use it in everyday situations, he still thought of it as useful knowledge – just like horse riding or sword fights or literature.

You knew that the members of the royal family and a lot of those who worked at the palace or within the court possessed the power of fire because that was the base of the four elemental kingdoms. However, since the palace was so far away and their powers weren’t used to protect or destroy like back in the days when kingdoms had been at war with each other, it was easy to forget about it.

You listened to him in awe because he had such an eloquent way to say what he wanted. He shared enough about himself, but it never felt like too much. He was firm in his words, but there was gentleness to his tone – especially when he was talking about his younger sisters or working on distributing more to the elderly in the kingdom. He wasn’t boasting, but talked about initiatives that he was passionate about, and that he felt like were benefitting the kingdom and its people.

You swore you could have listened to him talk all day, and you would have been fine with it, but he asked about your side as well, if you enjoyed being the innkeeper. So you told him about how you had learned the ropes from your father, and how some people had already been working here before. How you had made friends with the younger ones, and how you felt like they were your little family since your father had left.

“I am so sorry for your loss,” Prince Sungho said in such a heartfelt way, you almost felt bad for correcting him.

“He didn’t pass away. He just left me and the inn behind. I don’t know where he went, but he hasn’t come back for a year now,” you shared with him, averting your eyes from his face to the crackling fireplace. To be honest, it was easier than ever to talk about your father, you had learned how to navigate the topic, but it was like a cut that always bled – you might not have seen it or felt it constantly, but it was there, it was hurting.

Yet, before the prince could apologise for bringing it up, you added without further prompting:

“He actually drank quite a lot, and caused trouble afterwards. Not just in town but also at the inn, so it might be better in a way that he’s gone,” you confessed, and you didn’t feel guilty anymore for feeling this way.

Deep down, you knew that he wasn’t himself when he was drinking, but you didn’t seem to be a good enough reason to give up on it. So he gave up on you and the inn instead. There had been no big argument or a sudden realisation, one day, he had just left. It had been a similarly cold, stormy night, and since then, the rain didn’t wash him home.

“It must have been difficult for you to keep everything together, including yourself,” he pointed out gently, and your heart squeezed at his words. Now that he put it this way, you realised just how true it was, and it was scary and touching at the same time that he could understand you so easily.

Sensing that you might not be able to speak up yourself after this, Prince Sungho decided to ask about funny stories that happened at the inn. He was especially interested in ones involving Intak. You let out a joyous laughter hearing his request, but you were more than happy to share them with him.

Soon, one story turned into ten, and whilst the rain was pitter-pattering on the windows and the flames were dancing beamingly in the fireplace, you found yourself falling deeper and deeper into the abyss of him, until you ended up falling asleep, kept warm by the flames he added to the firewood just by a touch of his hands.

You woke to the creaking sound of the wooden floor, and opened your eyes to see who it was, only to realise that instead of your room, you were in the hall. The memories of the previous night came crashing down on you, and you felt a blush creeping onto your cheeks while Mrs Park greeted you with a gentle smile and reprimanded you for sleeping in the armchair instead of your own bed. You reassured her that it wouldn’t happen again, and she retreated to the kitchen to start making breakfast.

You went to your room to get changed and clean up a bit before going back into the hall to rearrange the furniture. Then, you unlocked the front door and looked at the remaining puddles from last night, the first rays of the Sun painting the fading green of the grass in orange and light purple. The smell of the passing rain was evident, and you took in a few deep breaths before you got started on your day.

You made yourself busy long enough for Haewon to show up for breakfast, but after she greeted you and went her own way, she came to find you again, only to ask you about last night.

“As far as I know, everyone had a peaceful night. There was nothing major happening,” you replied to her, but she sighed so dramatically, you quirked an eyebrow.

“No, I meant what happened last night between you and Prince Sungho. Intak told me that he heard you and Prince Sungho talk in the hall.”

“Ah, I knew that he would want to get cookies for himself again,” you pondered loudly, trying to dodge the question, but the girl seemed persistent, disappointed even. So you told her that you talked because neither of you could sleep, but it seemed like you couldn’t appease her.

“Did he make your heart flutter?”

“Haewon!” You shushed her, seriously hoping that the prince wouldn’t walk by the storage room right this instant. You would soon need to tell them that breakfast was ready, and you also had a feeling that with the storm passing, they would continue their journey to the Water Kingdom. There was no time to waste for them, you assumed.

“What? He seemed like a kind person, and besides, he was giving you those eyes during dinner,” your friend chatted while helping you fold a clean batch of towels and blankets.

“Those eyes?”

“Yes! You know what I mean… people look at each other like that when they are interested in one another,” she justified as if it had been the most obvious thing in the world, and despite your best attempt at hiding your contentment, you couldn’t fight the blush invading your cheeks. Surely, he hadn’t looked at you like that…

“You like him, too, I knew it!” Haewon squealed when she caught sight of your flushed face, and you were faster than ever to clear up the situation:

“No! I mean, it’s too early to say that I like him like that. As you’ve said, he seems like a kind young man, but at the same time, he’s a prince, and we might not see each other ever again. Besides, he's him, and I’m just a humble innkeeper. We would never work out,” you said it in one-go, but your hopeless romantic friend didn’t seem saddened by your train of thoughts. She shrugged off your concerns like little specks of dust.

“You know, I believe in happy endings. I’m rooting for you,” she said as she balled her hands into fists and held them high, a sign of her support. You shook your head, a smile hiding in the corner of your lips, before you told her to notify the royal entourage that the breakfast would be served soon.

In the meantime, you went outside, and fetched Intak from the stables who had been feeding the horses (and trying to charm them with his irresistible smile and overdramatic stories, too bad the animals couldn’t understand him). Prince Sungho and the others were already seated when you showed up to the dining room, and when you caught the prince’s eyes, you bobbed your head and gave him a shy smile. He smiled back, and you already felt weak in the knees just by the sight of him there, so you decided to sit with Chanyoung, Mr Kim and Taeyang - your gardener - who were sitting at the other end of the table, not beside Prince Sungho, Taesan, Leedo and Juyeon.

However, you couldn’t hold yourself back from looking in the prince’s direction from time to time, especially because he was having a great time listening to Intak and Haewon’s stories about their times at the inn, and his laughter was so contagious, you found yourself smiling into your bowl even though Taeyang was talking about the plants that had been the most hit by the storm last night.

Breakfast came to an end sooner than you would have wanted, and it was time for the guests to go. Chanyoung and Mr Kim helped them with their luggage, Intak helped Juyeon with the carriage, and the housekeeping ladies already got ready to clean their rooms after their departure. Haewon insisted that you should go outside with her and say goodbye to them, but it must have been what everyone thought because almost everyone was outside, lining up beside the carriage. Prince Sungho seemed taken aback by the amount of people, but he said goodbye to each and every one of them and thanked them for their efforts.

You were at the very end of the line, and you were sure that the slight tremble of your body wasn’t due to the weather but due to the prince’s presence. Even as he halted in front of you, you felt like your heart was crushing your ribcage, it was beating so wildly, and the prince’s words didn’t help at all.

“Thank you so much for everything, Y/N,” he bowed his head and you curtsied as much as your dress allowed. He made your name sound so elegant, so precious, you felt heat rising to your cheeks. “You should be proud of yourself, you are really the heart and soul of the inn,” he added with a smile so gentle, it felt like a feather-like touch caressing your cheeks.

“T-thank you, Your Highness. I am delighted that you had a pleasant stay,” you stuttered a bit, your voice coming out small. The prince boasted a slightly amused smile seeing your reaction before turning around and getting into the carriage.

You could see Haewon’s lips curling upwards from the corner of your eyes, and you wished you could vanish right then and there. This encounter might have been like a fairytale, but he was a prince, and you were an innkeeper, you were sure that this was it.

You were wrong, it seemed. Even though flowers already started blooming the next time Prince Sungho showed up, he did so nevertheless. Then, he came during summer and during autumn, too. He never stayed too long, only a night or two if he decided to drop by on his way to the Water Kingdom and on his way back.

One of his sisters got married to Prince Donghyun from the Water Kingdom in the meantime, so there was a lot to do in terms of negotiating. He didn’t always tell you what he was up to, after all, you were sure that much of it was confidential, and you didn’t want to pry. However, whenever he talked, he made you feel like you weren’t two worlds apart, he shared every detail and background stories. He made you feel like you were a part of his world.

It was flattering, to be honest, and it made you wonder if he felt the same way towards you. After all, he could have chosen any inn he wanted, yet, he kept coming back to yours, keeping you company beside the fireplace at nights, and he wasn’t hiding the fact that he was looking for you whenever you weren’t around. Needless to say, Haewon always called him out for it.

You enjoyed the thrill of it; the subtle touches by the fireplace, the warmth he could quite literally bring with him, the ways he cared even if he didn’t boast about it, the gazes that you shared at the dinner table, and the times you spent stargazing on the newly built patio whenever the weather allowed. All of those who worked at the inn welcomed him back warmly, and scarcely did you have a guest who knew the prince personally, so you didn’t feel like you had a reason to hide from others. Besides, they could see what was going on between you two, and you were sure that even the quiet Taesan knew about it.

You were usually very giddy to see him again, looking forward to each and every day as it held the hope of a new encounter. However, the following winter passed by slowly and full of doubts because you had heard the rumor that Prince Sungho might be getting married to a princess. You were moping, of course, because you hadn’t heard anything about a marriage the last time he had been there, but who were you to hold him back? You were just a commoner, nothing more.

You had a feeling that the reason Prince Sungho didn’t show up until early spring was exactly for the reason you were so heartbroken in the meantime, but he did show up, and nothing seemed to change about him. On the other hand, you were more wary towards the prince, and he caught onto it. He even decided to ask you about it at night when you inquired if he had anything he needed for the night. If he had just said no, you would have had the chance to escape him. He answered differently though.

You were standing by the door in the corridor while he was leaning against the door from inside his room, but you felt like there was more than distance between you two now. The looming rumour of his marital status drove a wedge between you two.

“Am I bothering you?” He asked straightforwardly, and you were sure that he used this tone of his for trade talks: firm, straight to the point yet not accusatory. He was looking at you gently – like always –, but you felt like he was pinning you to the door with his gaze.

“No. I merely believe that there are better-suited places for a prince,” you answered rather coldly, trying to keep your voice void of any emotion.

It was better this way, you told yourself. You and the prince had been doomed from the start, so it was better that you were over it before it could turn into something more. So why… why did you feel so betrayed?

He looked perplexed for a few seconds, but then, he regained his composure and confessed as if it meant nothing to him to say such words:

“It’s because I feel the most comfortable here out of all places, and I like spending time with you, too. I feel at ease beside you.”

“Prince Sungho…” You croaked out, torment scratching your throat when his name fell off your lips. Why did he have to be so genuine? Why did he have to look at you like that – like he really meant it, and he would do everything to keep it that way? Why, just why did he have to look up from his eyelashes, his deep, dark eyes boring into yours, keeping your gaze hostage?

“Hmm?”

“You should not say things like that.”

“Why?” He blinked at you, confused, as if all those communication lessons he had sat through at the palace had been in vain because he could not understand a girl like you.

“Because it makes me hopeful,” you retorted, raising your voice out of frustration. The prince seemed taken aback by it, too, his eyes widening at your sudden change of reaction, but he stayed still nevertheless. He still had no clue, did he?

“Ah, nevermind,” you mumbled and turned around to leave, but the prince caught your wrist.

“Y/N?” He called out, perplexed and desperate, and you wished nothing but to be strong enough to resist him.

His grip wasn’t hurtful, it was gentle enough, so that you could yank your hand away from his if you wanted. The truth is, you didn’t want to, so you turned back to him instead. It was a grave mistake though because he looked so hurt, so vulnerable, your heart immediately sank at the sight.

“Prince Sungho, I am afraid I cannot do this any longer,” you reasoned quietly, looking away, so that you wouldn’t have to look at him, to look at the hurt you had caused. It didn’t help though, you merely felt worse by it, so you looked back at him. Afterwards, there was no turning back, the words just bubbled up.

“I like talking to you by the fireplace, too. I like when you say my name like that. I like that you see me for who I am, and I can let go of the burden of the inn when I am with you. I also like that you make me feel more confident in myself and remind me that I should be proud of where I am instead of what more I can do, and I like how I am feeling beside you. But… I do not think it is right for me to like any of this, to like you above all. I have heard that you might get married soon, and that is the way it should be. You are a prince, and I am just… me.”

There was no need to deny it; you were so very different, and it had been so very obvious from the start, but there was always that seed of hope within you that wanted to bloom despite the harsh weather conditions around. Now reality trampled on this little flower that almost managed to bloom… but almost was never enough.

“I am sorry,” Prince Sungho said simply, his head hanging low, and even though there was no reason for you to ask for confirmation, you had to because you didn’t want to delude yourself into what ifs anymore.

“So is it true?”

He nodded without hesitation, twisting the knife that was already deep inside your heart. You felt like choking, tearing up, anything but standing there still, unable to move.

“I’ve wanted to tell you, but I did not know how. It is complicated, but…” The prince started, searching for your eyes, and you needed everything in you to be able to hold yourself together when he continued. “I want you to know that I like you too.”

Oh, how much you have wished to hear those words before, but now they seemed utterly wrong. Now, it seemed wrong to like him out of all people when he might have to marry a princess, and you couldn’t do anything about it. The only option was to minimise the pain, so after closing your eyes for a few seconds to ponder over your answer, you decided on it.

“I must ask you to not come back anymore after your current stay. I am sorry,” you said so quietly, resigned, before yanking your hand away from his and walking away from him.

Prince Sungho didn’t come back again – just as you had asked him.

The thought of going back to the way things had been before meeting him pained you, and to be honest, it would have been futile to act like nothing had happened. Everyone knew that something was up, and since everyone else heard the rumours of his possible marriage, you had a feeling that you didn’t have to spell it out for them; that the prince would likely not come back.

Days blended into weeks and then into months. Time was moving at a different pace now that you didn’t look forward to each day in hopes that you would run into Prince Sungho again. You busied yourself with renovations of the inn until there was nothing else to fix, and still, it wasn’t enough to forget about him. Haewon tried to set you up with boys his brother had become friends with, but to no avail. You didn’t feel anything towards them even if you wanted to. Each and every time, you were thinking how differently the prince would do things, he was constantly on your mind. Rainy days, starry nights and the smell of firewood reminded you of him.

Though you didn’t hear any more marriage news from the palace, you believed that it was because finalising a marriage between royalty took a long time. That’s why you were even more taken aback that a letter arrived one day, delivered by one of the royal mailmen who insisted on staying until you gave an answer based on the content of the letter.

You exchanged a look with Haewon who seemed rather excited, so much that she took the letter from your hand because you hesitated too much. She opened it immediately, and her free hand flew to her mouth in surprise when she saw the inked lines written on the paper.

“What does it say?” You raised an eyebrow in question, but instead of answering properly, the girl hit your shoulder giddily before handing you the letter to read it for yourself.

Your heart skipped a beat when you realised that the letter was from none other than Prince Sungho himself, and he invited you to attend the autumn farewell ceremony. The Fire Kingdom had a farewell ceremony for all four seasons when people bid goodbye to the previous one and welcomed the new one, gathering around a huge fire in front of the palace and giving their blessings to the kingdom and the royal family. You had never been to one because you had been too busy making ends meet, but now the prince invited you and any companion you wanted, and if you said yes, he would make sure to take care of everything – sending you a dress beforehand and sending you a carriage on the day of the ceremony.

The prince said that he was waiting to see you and that he wanted you to be the first one to know about something important, something that he must tell you to make up for last time.

“I bet he wants to tell you that the marriage was called off, and now you can be his!” Haewon squealed, and bounced on her legs, unable to contain her excitement. You gaped at her in disbelief, but at the same time, there might have been something to her words. After all, why would he invite you to the palace out of all places if he was about to get married?

A few minutes later, when Haewon’s overly excited chattering died down, the royal mailman reminded you to give an answer, and you decided to listen to your heart and give it a try. So you said yes, and that you would take Haewon – who, though touched, didn’t seem surprised at all –, and off he went.

As promised, your dress arrived a week before the ceremony, but there was another one in the box alongside it much to Haewon’s zealousness. They were both pitch-black as black represented the end of something in your kingdom – just like how flames turn to black ashes when they can no longer feed on oxygen –, and it was the official colour of the seasons’ farewell ceremony. They were so smooth, so soft, even having patterned, lacy and pearl-dotted parts, something that you had never been able to wear before. Even just looking at them made you weak in the knees, let alone on the day of the farewell ceremony when you could finally wear them, and Haewon helped to braid your hair and do your make-up.

Even though you scarcely wore make-up, your friend insisted that you should do it this time because it wasn’t everyday that you were going to the palace. Not to mention that she was set on her ‘steal the prince’s heart’ agenda, firm in her belief that Prince Sungho wanted to let you know that you could finally be together.

Though it seemed too good to be true after your last encounter, you wanted to believe her, and most of all, you wanted to enjoy this magical time. You didn’t even remember the last time you had spent a day away from the inn, but you were grateful for everyone working there because you knew you could leave them for this time and everything would be fine. Even though Intak teased you that you would likely not want to come back after going to the palace once, Mrs Park was visibly touched when you and Haewon waited in the hall in your dresses and Mr Kim almost fell down the stairs when he caught sight of you two. At these times, they really did seem like your family.

The carriage arrived in time, and even though the journey to the palace lasted a few hours, you weren’t bored because you were with Haewon after all. However, the closer you got, the more nervous you were, and it didn’t help that you didn’t know where you were when the carriage halted and you stepped out of it because there weren’t a lot of people, except for multiple empty carriages. That meant that you were probably on palace grounds, not where the ceremony was supposed to take place.

“I will show you the way to Prince Sungho. He is waiting for you,” a court lady announced with a polite smile as she walked up to you two and you exchanged a glance with Haewon before following her through beautifully crafted arches painted with the historical moments of the Fire Kingdom, giant fountains trickling with bubbling water and an enormous statue with a man and a woman holding a torch in their hands which was actually lit up with fire. You wondered if it was always burning with magic because it seemed likely here.

You were surprised that even Haewon was quiet on the way, but you could understand her silence because it was just too much to take in for people like you; all these luxuries, beauty and wealth. Yet, the most magnificent of them all was Prince Sungho when he walked up to you alongside Taesan, wearing a burgundy suit over a black shirt tucked into his cotton pants, his broad shoulders and slender waist highlighted by the waist-length of the suit.

He seemed almost relieved when he laid his eyes on you, but at the same time, he was definitely taken aback. You felt your cheeks burning up when he averted his eyes to your dress, though he did it in the most respectful way possible, and immediately found your eyes afterwards.

“Your Highness,” Haewon curtsied beside you, and you followed suit when you finally awakened from your stupor. Heart beating rapidly, you straightened your back, just in time for the prince to call out your name.

“Y/N… So glad you could make it,” he said so gently, so lovingly, and he would have just stood there smiling at you if your friend beside you hadn’t cleaned her throat, gaining his attention. He immediately looked at her too and bowed his head, albeit a bit sheepishly. “You too, Haewon. Thank you for coming.”

“It is truly my pleasure, Your Highness. What a wonderful court you have! I was wondering if maybe someone, someone like Taesan could give me a tour?”

“Me?” Taesan’s eyes widened, the bewilderment written all over his features. He looked at the prince for help, and the disapproval was evident on his face when the prince gave in to Haewon’s suggestion, and sent him away to show your friend around. Then, the royal advisor let out a long sigh, but did as he was told.

Before they would disappear though, Haewon turned around to send you a wink, and you had to hold yourself from giggling aloud. She was so unbelievable, but in the best way possible.

When you looked back at Prince Sungho, you immediately melted into a puddle – it was his effect, it seemed. You could barely register that he asked a question, you were so occupied with the swirling feelings inside of you. You managed to pull yourself together and tell him about what you had been doing since you had last met. When you inquired about his side, he was quick to confess that the marriage offer was withdrawn.

“Why?” You asked immediately, both out of relief and surprise. You thought that when such offers were made, they would surely be finalised, but it seemed that it wasn’t always the case. Not that you knew a lot about marriage proposals…

“Apparently, I was not charming enough for the princess,” Prince Sungho answered matter-of-factly, no hint of disappointment in his voice, but you were hurt on his behalf as well.

“How? She was clearly blind then,” you exclaimed totally out of character, and you were about to apologise for your outburst when the prince let out a giggle beside you. You realised that you had missed hearing him laugh, hearing his voice, just being with him, and the warmth he carried around found its way into your heart again.

You smiled coyly seeing his reaction, but couldn’t help but ask another question.

“Why did you tell me?”

You were here for a reason, you were here because the prince had invited you, so you were certain that he had more to add to the story even though you were immensely relieved hearing that. You also felt a bit guilty for holding a grudge against him all this time when he had not been set on marrying a princess, at least he didn’t seem disappointed in the slightest.

He took his time to formulate his answer, but when he did, you were just as confused as relieved.

“Being a princess is not the only way to marry a prince. Not anymore.”

“What do you mean?” You furrowed your eyebrows, your heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t want to see more into his words than could be, but you couldn’t push down that hopeful surge of energy going through your body.

Prince Sungho boasted a somewhat content grin as he continued, his words proud and also a bit playful. You liked that look on him; when he was confident and light, his features as peaceful as they could be.

“I have just made my father approve of the new rules for royal marriage within the Fire Kingdom. Actually, it was my cousin, Prince Jaehyun, who begged me if we could tweak the law a little bit, but I felt like it was my time to speak up on the matter as well.”

You didn’t want to believe your ears at first. This was what you had been dreaming about, and yet, you needed one little confirmation to actually believe it:

“Is your cousin in love with a commoner just like you are?”

“Yes. Very much so,” he bobbed his head, and suddenly halted in his steps, so he could turn towards you. He reached for your hands to hold them in his, his touch electrifying you from head to toe. He was gentle, his touch was so gentle, even the way he looked at you was so tender and loving and caring, you felt your breath hitch in your throat.

“Yes, I am in love with you if that is why you were asking,” he confessed, keeping the eye-contact, so you could see how genuine and earnest he was. Your lips curled upwards immediately, and you felt like you could burst out in excitement.

“I-I don’t know what to say…”

“Maybe you can say that you feel the same way and let me hug you,” he suggested a bit teasingly, a lopsided smile appearing in the corner of his lips. Despite his suddenly playful attitude, you did just as he told, confirming that you were very much in love with him and hugged him tightly, sinking into this warm feeling, soaking in this happiness that seemed so far away once, but now it was all yours.

You didn’t even want to let it go, you didn’t want to let him go again.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this story of mine! Let me know what you think! 😊

Click here for my BND masterlist

If you want to read more stories of mine, let it be for BOYNEXTDOOR or for other artists, consider signing up for my taglist here. 🥰

Hope you have a lovely day/night! Take care! ❤️

[satanlikesmyfics]

Lavender

pt 1

read pt 2 here

an: sorry if this lacks build up or logic:( not proofread

words: 1415

contains: dealer!ellie x f!y/n, weed/alc mentions, intoxication, fingering, tit sucking, police busted party

dealer!ellie

while you wander around the dimly purple lit room, your mind is starting to blur. you went to this party with some of your friends, although you can't seem to find them anymore. you left to explore the place your at since it's at an abandoned place, and who wouldn't find that interesting? you sit down on a red, ripped sofa with the smell of weed and alcohol surrounding you.

ellie's been walking around bored for the past 30 mins. she's seen everyone leave home with someone or hook up in some creepy room. wondering why it was even a good idea to show up, she just thinks of the wads of cash she earned selling her overpriced weed. no one around really knows how much that shit costs, so it's easy to rip people off. she remembers that she still has a bunch of weed and rolls herself a joint, sitting down on some junky looking old sofa. in the corner of her eye she spots some stunning girl she's never seen around before. your black, tight dress catches her attention and she turns slightly to get a better look.

you notice ellie staring and blush slightly. you've heard a lot and seen her pictures, sometimes romantizising about her even... you've never even met, you're so fucking weird for thinking of her that way. she probably is straight or has atleast has a girlfriend, you think to yourself, making fun of the fact you think of her. ellie leans slightly towards your ear and asks your name. "me??" you give her your rather surprised answer. what the fuck would she want from me?? "yes you, bunny. you manage to stutter your name and look away, surprised by the name she called you so casually. "y/n? I thought I heard your name before." "shouldn't you be looking for your girlfriend or something?" you ask looking back up at her, attempting to figure out her exact status. maybe you'd even have a chance?

"girlfriend?" ellie responds in confusion. your eyes widen in hope. the sudden sirens catch you off guard though, almost everyone looking out the nearest window in unison. "oh fuck" ellie mutters and grabs your wrist. "someone called the damn police" she shouts over the panic and pulls you away from the crowd. you don't fully comprehend what's happening but don't want to do anything else but follow her. stumbling through doorways and rooms a wave of fresh air hits you suddenly and you gain control of your thoughts again. ellie, still having a firm hold of your wrist looks back at you in confirmation that you're still with her. obviously you still are, you'd never leave her, especially when these moments you've been thinking about are coming true.

"where are we ellie?" you utter. you're in some field full lavender. everything looks so blue and the pale moonlight slightly lights everything up. you look up the hill and see the police cars surround the place you just managed to leave. "did we escape them that fast?" you ask without expecting any answer. "come here sweetheart, you can use my jacket" ellie answers and lays her jacket down on the wet grass. you feel a tingle in the gesture and obey. her jacket feels rough on your bare thighs. your eyes wander to ellie, who's just settling down on the grass. while your eyes are on her lips hoping she can't see in the dim light, her eyes glance at your whole body, most of all your thighs. her pussy slightly clenches at the sight of your dress up so high, revealing so much. shit, she thinks, you can't just think of her the second you meet her in person. that's weird and creepy, and she doesn't want to be like that towards you, even though she can barely help it.

she holds the joint up again delicately, which she lights once again since it had died down after the escape. "can I have a hit?" you ask. you don't really care about the drug, more the indirect touching of your mouths and the way her fingers move. she holds it towards you and you inhale deeply, coughing it out again a bit. you feel so dizzy and hazy you practically fall onto her lips. "what the fuck?" ellie asks after pushing you away. "I- I'm sorry.. I didn't mean to do that-" you reply embarrassed. "no no, please y/n, I liked it, I promise" she reassures "I'd gladly like to continue you know.." she pats her lap, signaling you to take a seat.

her lips suddenly crash onto your again, and you melt into the hungry kiss. she kisses you again, and another time, you can't keep count because it just turns into a makeout session. her hand pushes up the back of your neck into your hair and the other rests on your torso. you push your body further against hers and she moans into your mouth. she spreads out her jacket on the field and lays you down, her getting on top. her hand squeezes your thigh firmly. "what are we even doing.." she mutters and kisses your neck passionately. "we don't have to.. it's okay..." you manage to answer. she looks at you and asks if you want to because she thinks your fucking hot. you giggle and kiss her again, continuing the session.

her hand starts to wander up your thigh and you shiver at the touch. she marks your neck giving you harsh kisses and slides up your dress. you'd probably be embarrassed of you weren't intoxicated, but rn, you just want to enjoy what's happening with ellie. it's literally a dream come true and you don't want to fuck that up in the slightest. her hand starts rubbing your pussy through your panties and you let out soft moans, wanting more. your hand moves beneath her loose sweatshirt and gropes her tit. she starts moaning at the feeling of your cold hand. you pull the sweatshirt over your head and teasingly kiss around her nipple. you love teasing her, hearing her frustrated moans through yours. after her hand moves your panties to the side, you lick and suck and bite her titties. it gets increasingly harder the harder and faster the goes, through the mess of moans and pleasure and shaking you feel. your head slips completely out of her shirt and she laughs and kisses you more, slipping her thick and strong fingers inside of you. you let out a loud moan, feeling her massage your walls. the pleasure she's making you feel is getting overwhelming.

you've never had a real partner before, definitely not one as good as she's been. you've had a girlfriend who was pretty decent with her strap, and a guy who could fulfill your kinks. but someone who knew each moment to touch you? ellie could tell which spots exactly made you moan and shake and shiver, without touching you before this encounter.

snapping out of your thoughts, you let out a loud moan, arching your back further. "you feeling good baby?" ellie asks leaning down to your ear. "mhm" you answer and she thrusts her fingers deeper inside of you, making your eyes roll back in fulfillment. you've never been so close, so far on the edge before. you arch your back further feeling her going faster and faster.. mmhhmm..

"y/n?? y/nnnn.." you hear one of your friends shout maybe 100? meter away. both you and ellie freeze. she quickly pulls her out of you and wipes them on her pants without thinking. you sit up and pull your dress back down, noticing how cold it still is outside. "yeah I'm over here, I'm coming" you shout back. ellie gives you a quick kiss before you give her the jacket you've been laying on throughout the whole session. "keep it baby it's cold." she says, urging you to put it on and helps you get through the sleeves. "you go ask your friend simon for my number, she has it. text me. I want to see you again." "yeah, I will." you answer, still flustered. "good girl.. now get back to your friends and get home safely." you smile back and run over to your friend who's shouting at you to get it the van. you sit down and relax, thinking about the.. interesting.. evening you spent with ellie. "god fucking damn.." you mutter under your breath, driving away.

[saintzweig]

are we gonna be getting pro-tennis player patrick zweig x younger socialite girlfriend headcanons

-bambi

ask and you shall receive my favorite oomf girliism 🫶 this is more on fluff n just some background :)

ꢾ꣒ the two of you met through your father, once a professional tennis player who now spends his time doing charities and building foundations.

ꢾ꣒ you usually help your father handle the affairs, co-directing charities events, galas and dinners.

ꢾ꣒ patrick was reluctant to go the first time he was invited but tashi and art convinced him it would be good for his image, to save his career from reputation as a manwhore and his sloppy techniques.

ꢾ꣒ got bored not even five minutes in and tried to flirt with you to get you to come with him to the bathroom.

ꢾ꣒ you only smiled as you introduced him to your father, who he realized was the man he idolized when he was a kid.

ꢾ꣒ attended every event he got invited to in hopes of seeing you again.

ꢾ꣒ and when he does see you, he's following you around the venue like a lost puppy. he only shrugs and says you're the only person he knows

ꢾ꣒ you finally had enough and drag him to a janitor's closet far away from the room.

ꢾ꣒ i'd say two years since then, you move in together almost immediately, in an apartment gifted by your father.

ꢾ꣒ very secure couple, you know how attractive the other one is so it doesn't really bother you when people try to flirt, if anything it only inflates your ego.

ꢾ꣒ not when they cross the line obviously. even though he trusts you, he still gets protective every now and then. when he sees you looking uncomfortable, he doesn't waste a second and immediately comes to take you away. not without showing off to the person trying to flirt with you of course.

ꢾ꣒ hands you his credit card whenever you say you need new clothes or accessories, even though you can afford it.

ꢾ꣒ his personal driver is also yours, he makes sure to make them sign non-disclosure agreements because some wild shit happens in the backseat.

ꢾ꣒ you have his initials embroidered on your clothes because he once mentioned that he likes the idea of marking you

ꢾ꣒ lets you drag him to countless galas and dinners, even though it's not really his thing

ꢾ꣒ to make up for it, you let him drag you to his morning trainings and sometimes lunches with tashi and art

ꢾ꣒ he's also a fan favorite in your friend group, you brought him to a girl brunch once and everyone loved him. i think he'd be so good at spilling and receiving tea

ꢾ꣒ always on the front row during his games, wearing his favorite colors

ꢾ꣒ it's impossible for him to lose now that he has you, you bring him so much confidence but also he just really wants to prove himself to you.

ꢾ꣒ talks about you a lot during interviews even when the question has nothing to do with you or your relationship. also his lock screen is always a photo of you, a selfie or a professional photo taken during fashion week.

ꢾ꣒ makes a game out of guessing the color of your underwear

ꢾ꣒ he'd be the type to rip them and assure you he'd buy you new ones. so that's where his money is going

ꢾ꣒ inappropriate touches under the table is definitely one of his hobbies, as well as sneaking into bathrooms during events

ꢾ꣒ also car sex ... very often ... he loves seeing you all disheveled as you lay on the seat beneath him. all sweaty with your mascara and lipstick smudged on your face. your lace panties hanging off your foot.

ꢾ꣒ when he retires, that's when you two finally settle down completely. moving out of your apartment into a proper house, with the goal of filling it with kids.

ꢾ꣒ the two of you build a tennis academy where he teaches and mentors younger aspiring tennis players

ꢾ꣒ also the wedding was big, i'm talking the best venues and decorations. over a hundred guests due to your connections and standing, it was all over the internet too. most fashionable new york socialite and grand slam winner ties the knot.

ꢾ꣒ three kids, two boys and one girl. his favorite one is definitely his little girl.

ꢾ꣒ he's definitely come a long way and he has you to thank for that.

[19burstraat]

Ok we all know guild me, build me exists due to my artistic abilities being very lacking in the visual arts, so rather than drawing the crows in the komedie brute, I had to write kaz in. however I had ideas for the others that I couldn't get into a fic, so I've put em down here

Kaz: (description ripped from guild me, build me):

a heavy black cape, sewn with stolen chains and jewels so that it jingled upon every movement (...) It was marked up and slit here and there, on the edges and at the collar, to give the impression of crow’s feathers, and it was made of some kind of shiny, velvety fabric that had the oily shine of crow’s plumage. The gloves were the same material, thinner and more embroidered than Kaz would have ever entertained, and the cane was a plain, inaccurate copy– (...) the mask; a silver crow’s head (...) crooked over the eyes and nose, almost like a Kaelish plague mask. But it left the mouth unblocked; of course it did. Dirtyhands needed to talk.

Inej:

Light and flimsy dark (doesn't have to be black; could be blue or grey) fabric for the veil and cloak. Has an element of spiderwebby fraying to it which is a nod to her being... Well, a spider lmao. But also meant to look ghostly and insubstantial, can sometimes see a metal shiny suggestion of knives underneath it. The veil can be parted just down the side of her face, so you can occasionally see a bit of her face, but never the whole thing. Would not be a practical costume to climb or spy in; too long and bothersome, the same way Kaz's Dirtyhands cloak would not be practical to pickpocket in. Sometimes productions get her a few cheap sheath knives.

Jesper:

Rabbit head mask, short cloak in some batshit colour like green or pink, lined w rabbit's fur and threaded with gambling chips, 'lucky' rabbits feet, coins, and stray bullets. Adornments tied on loosely so they swing everywhere when he moves. This way there's also a real risk of the Kaz and Jesper actors getting tangled together if they interact, which is not symbolic, just funny. This is our get-along Komedie Brute costume :) (we are stuck)

Wylan:

A once-fine red cloak with a high ruffly collar-- now tattered and singed and gone to seed. Little bits of wiring or string or pouches of powders etc sewn into it; sneakily embroidered with the Van Eck laurel around the edges. Mask, while elaborate and matching with the cloak, only covers the top half of his face, as if he's not quite as all-in as the others. For similar reasons, the cloak is half-length.

Matthias:

Wolf's head mask ofc, white fur cape a lot longer and more substantial than Jesper's, with heavy furring around the neck (made to bulk out the actor if they're not the right stature, which most will not be). Likely they also weight his boots to make his tread sound more imposing. Possibly a wig if they can afford one, since Druskelle are known for the long hair.

Nina:

Porcelain-doll Venetian style mask (you know the ones!) with a single black tear-- referential both to that bit in CK when they identified themselves that way in the crowd of Mister Crimsons, and the Queen of Mourning thing. Mask is covered with a very light veil, and she wears a long heavy silk cloak with a bit of a hint of a kefta, but not enough to get the Komedie Brute in shit from Ravkan Grisha lmao. Entrance usually heralded with a blue corpselight.

I imagine dependent on the production and the costumier they could look great and beautifully elaborate, or they could look cheap and shit lmao.

Bonus: I got bored and made a mock-up of a page of a Komedie play. I edited over the first folio for this, yes. Sorry to the Big W.S.

[animasolaoriginal]

A B A N D O N E D 🥀 1/3

A new-in-town urban explorer stumbles upon a (not so) well hidden secret in an abandoned building, turning his life upside down when he takes more than pictures and leaves more than footprints.

Normal dude meets broken girl turned sex toy

WARNINGS: Urban exploration. Implied past rape. Implied past caning. Wounds and injuries. Objectification. Submissive character. Strangers to lovers. Angst. Hurt/comfort. Fluff. Eventual smut*. (More tags on AO3.) WORDS: 7.6k

A/N: This is a spin-off to my original story INFATUATED, set in the same universe. There's no need to have read INFATUATED, just know that there's a man we refer to as Sir who took in (kidnapped) a girl we refer to as Darling to make her his personal little plaything (but then proceeds to develop “feelings” for her), and this is the story of one of the unfortunate girls before her. A "study" on what a normal dude may think about an abandoned sub. Remember: this is fiction! A product of my own sick little mind, a fantasy. Our guy here may have some opinions later that may or may not stem from my own view on things (just some rants about certain kinks, and if those insult you, please forgive me, I don't mean any kink shaming. Everyone is valid around here – except Sir who might not get the best reviews in this story). By the way, the protagonist may have a name here, but it's only mentioned a few times, so you can still imagine any character here if you want to!

1 🟢 2 🟢 3

Glass crunches beneath his boots as he makes his way through the abandoned building. It's eerily quiet, just the wind howling through the broken windows and holes in the walls. The occasional rustle when debris or dry leaves move under the breeze. Nature's completely reclaimed this old house that used to be an apartment building with a bunch of tiny shops on the ground floor. Too off the beaten path, the shops became obsolete when a large mall opened only a few blocks away.

He's also in a very bad neighborhood, and nobody seemed to care about this particular building for a long time. Overgrown and broken, glass panes a good target practice for your usual teenage delinquent or bored child, doors ripped off their hinges by age and decay and maybe some random angry dude who needed a place to vent. Furniture long gone, either taken along or stolen later, things that couldn't be moved too easily (like sinks or toilet bowls) smashed into tiny pieces.

Normally he prefers places stuck in time, where tragedy struck and nobody's been back in decades, with faded photos on the walls or on dusty shelves, the smell of slowly rotting armchairs and a hint of mold in the air. Those make the best pictures. Little time capsules, evidence of older times, in the midst of a blooming bustling city. This building, however, looked more promising from the outside.

He raises his camera and takes a shot of a broken window where thick vines of ivy crawl around the frame and up the wall, the light of the setting sun giving the scene a soft glow. He changes the angle a few times, then moves on, up the stairs, looks through open doors into old apartments, mostly empty, walls vandalized with crude, unreadable graffiti, carpets full of dirt and a (not so) healthy layer of mold.

What strikes him as a little unusual is that the hallways look as if used fairly often, leaves and dust bunnies line the sides, but there's a path between the debris, leading further up the building. Not too unusual, these kinds of buildings usually attract a lot of shady people or bored teenagers, some to meet for illegal business deals, other to party hard in a place Mom and Dad cannot find them.

Maybe it's used for all kinds of things as he notices a growing abundance of empty soda cans, broken alcohol bottles and other garbage lying around (the most striking sight was a trail of discarded condoms and empty lube bottles). His destination is the roof, maybe he can at least snap some pictures of the sunset and the city around him from this place, for all he got now are shots of broken windows, nature reclaiming the urban space and your typical down-the-hallway shot. He even found the one-single-chair-in-the-middle-of-an-empty-room motif.

Of course he's not the first urbexer to walk through here, it's been abandoned for a long time, probably old news for the locals, but this is his first time here, in the city too, and he wanted to see as many abandoned things as possible. He heard from others that this house had good bones, meaning stable stairs and floors, no risk of breaking through and landing in the moldy basement with a pipe through your torso. He is looking for adventure, the thrill of being alone in a lost place, inhaling the intoxicating scent of debris and decay, he is not looking to pay a horrendous hospital bill because he's been too careless.

He takes the last section of the winding staircase, stepping onto the upper most floor, the roof access visible at the end of the corridor. There he hesitates. Unlike the floors below him, there's something different here. It's not as dirty, and the most prominent thing: all the doors are intact and closed. It almost looks like an actual floor of a still lived-in apartment building where you would find the same amount of dust and grime on the floors and walls.

Raising his camera, he takes a few shots, cursing when he realizes it's too dark to get it lined up best. The only light source is a badly boarded-up window at the end of the hallway, a tiny skylight above him and the glow creeping up over the staircase from the lower levels. Why is this window boarded up? What's happening up here that nobody wants to have witnesses for? There are other buildings around this one, still functional, mostly, probably for seedy reasons as well, but there's still the chance of people noticing what's going on here.

The closed doors irritate him. Everything else about this building was ripped out and broken and vandalized, nothing left in its former state. He came in through a bent-out-of-shape shutter gate, most of the former shops have so many holes it's fairly easy to get access to the rest of the house. And nobody seems to care about people walking about. There's an old No Trespassing sign near the boarded-up front door, but that's about it.

Though it doesn't surprise him in this kind of neighborhood. He might be new in this city, but he knows a crime haven when he sees one. Everything looks old and run down, shops are only fronts for other businesses, grim looking people stand around, gangs linger in groups in neglected parks or on the curb corners. He also saw some prostitutes walking the streets, looking as worn and shabby as the clothes they were wearing. Most normal people would avoid going deeper into the belly of the beast, but he likes the more dangerous places, and frankly, he fits right in.

Tall and bulky, he could pass as one of those bouncers standing in front of shady clubs, but he looks also young enough to be confused with a fresh gang member or mafia initiate or whatever. At least he thinks so because he's gotten no curious stares as he entered the neighborhood. Though he was glad nobody talked to him, his accent would have given him away for sure.

He feels his heart beating faster when he approaches one of the closed doors, the hairs on his arms rising in anticipation. It's a thrill to find something unusual in a place you've already pushed aside and declared boring. His hand grabs the door handle, twists it... and nothing happens. Locked. A locked door in an abandoned building. How curious. He tries the other ones, the same thing occurs. When he reaches the last door, he almost jumps back when the knob turns and the door opens with a click and then a creepy squeak.

One open room on a floor full of locked doors. His breath quickens, but he forces himself to remain calm. He doesn't even know what he's expecting, but it certainly wasn't this. The room is almost bare (but not as empty as the rooms he's seen before), aged wallpaper peels from the walls, the windows are covered by thick curtains, old and rugged looking, there's a couch in one corner, covered in blankets that have seen better days too. But the most unnerving sight is the bed in the middle of the room.

It's literally in the middle of the room, a sturdy looking metal frame he could walk around if he wanted to. But for now he only stares. There are handcuffs chained to the headboard, ropes tied to the low bed posts. And then there are the stains on the old mattress, lighter and darker ones, some are definitely blood. Old and dried, though one looks a little fresher, on the lower part of the bed. He's mesmerized, disgusted but mesmerized, almost forgets the weight around his neck before a shiver crashes through him.

It's an automated gesture to raise his camera and take pictures of what he sees. Pics or it didn't happen. It's a strange sight, but he isn't sure he wants to share this scene on his official page. He's known for showing off decaying architecture and nature reclaiming its place in the world full of stone and people. To share a potential sex dungeon might not be the way to go. But he still has his side blog. He has to share this, work through the experience, hoping somebody knows something about this.

Though he hasn't even seen everything. Slowly he takes a step into the room. There's a table behind the door, a longer one, fit for a person to lie on, and the leather belts attached to it suggest the same. Fuck. Is this really one of those freaky sex rooms?

He doesn't want to imagine what goes on in here, but he can't completely ignore that he has seen similar settings in various porn clips. Echoes of crying girls crash through his mind, creepily leering men in ski masks standing around the bed, the table, the couch, cocks in hand, others holding paddles, canes, vibrators, ready to torment whoever is unfortunate enough to be strapped to the structures.

He wants to believe there's consent involved, a scene being played out, discussed beforehand, those girls willingly trapped with a bunch of horny men, but sometimes it's hard to imagine that anyone would want to go through that on their own free will. He swallows, only now noticing the stench of the room. Sweat and sex, various bodily fluids all around, with a metallic undertone. Blood.

Shivering he can't help himself, he takes more pictures, walks around the room as if treading on thin ice, careful not to disturb the scene. He's also hyper aware of the noises around him now, the low buzz of the city beyond, voices passing by the building, birds landing on the roof above him, pigeons cooing, crows cawing, seagulls screaming. He tells himself he'd hear if somebody came back to clean up the scene he's witnessing right now. He could flee to the roof, hide it out, maybe find a way down from there.

Goosebumps attack his bare forearms when he rounds the bed and notices a pile of blankets on the floor. But it's the hair poking out of it that makes his heart stop. No. He freezes on the spot, staring down, camera heavy in his hand. He's heard stories of other urban explorers encountering unsettling things, the more harmless one coming into contact with a squatter, either awake or passed out in some corner, and the most disturbing one... stepping onto a crime scene, finding blood, bones... or dead bodies.

Yet instead of panicking, with the urge to run as quickly as he can, he finds himself staring with an obscene fascination. His eyes trail the blanket, noticing how it's wrapped around whatever is curled up inside it, and he bends down a little, crouching beside it, the smell overwhelmingly strong down here. His stomach protests, but his curiosity is too obnoxious to ignore. Shifting his camera into his other hand, he reaches out, carefully, knowing he should probably wear gloves, but he also doesn't care. He has to know.

His fingers grip the edge of the blanket, and he pulls, gently, his eyes widening as the scene unfolds in front of him – together with the body of a girl unfurling from its curled-up position. He will never share his first impression with anyone, because it's primal, an instinct, the thought of a man whose cock has a mind of its own: she's pretty.

Also naked, covered in grime and other substances, pale skin adorned with angry red welts and purple bruises, something pink caked between her thighs. She's on her side, legs scissored open, arms bound behind her back. Her thick dark hair is braided into two pigtails, and one of them seems to be cut off as the hair frays out and lies around her head like a dark halo. Tears and sweat allowed a thick layer of dust and dirt to cake to her face. Eyes closed, long dark lashes clumped, full lips swollen and raw looking, slightly parted.

Before he continues taking in every detail of her, he has the urge to bring his finger to her nose, and the relief when he feels the slightest bit of air movement against his skin lets him exhale loudly as well. She is not dead. And there's the problem. She looks like she should be, like it would be the better fate. The sight scares him as much as it fuels his morbid fascination, which may explain why he's still frozen on the spot, staring at her instead of calling the police or an ambulance or doing anything to help her. He can't take his eyes off her.

Her slender neck is covered in dark bruises as if someone has tried to strangle her, probably thought they succeeded too. Why else would she lie on the floor here? Left behind after whoever assaulted her was done? And assaulted she was. Sexually, physically. The welts on her body look horrible, thin red lines all over her small breasts, her stomach, her hips, her thighs, on her ass as well from what he can tell. She was caned, the poor thing. He hates watching those kinds of porn videos. He can see the appeal of spanking, the hand on ass contact, but hitting someone with a rigid cane doesn't seem very pleasurable, it's only about inflicting pain and having evidence of it days later.

A sadistic move, and sadists were definitely at work here. There are more bruises on her thighs, probably from strong hands holding her down and open while various cocks forced themselves into her holes. He feels his cheeks warming up when he takes a closer look at her pussy. Apart from layers upon layers of what he assumes to be cum and other fluids, there are welts and bruises on there too, on the soft skin of her inner thighs, on her puffy outer lips (that look stretched as if held back and open by clamps or whatever these bastards used), but most are on the strangely swollen clit. Ugh. Genital torture, a genre he really hates. Spanking a woman's clit is just downright sick and barbaric.

The more he looks at her, the worse he feels. Not just for what she had to go through, but knowing he can't really help her. How should he? Call the police and wait for other horny men to find her? He never trusted the cops, and in a neighborhood like this he is certain there won't be a good guy among them. Calling an ambulance may be an option, if he does it anonymously and flees the scene quickly, but that leaves him wondering if anyone ever found her. And again, in an area like this, the people who did this may still be around watching the place, stopping help before it can get anywhere, maybe even finishing the job, killing her.

And if he stays and wait, he will be in danger of those people seeing him, and as he now knows too much, even took pictures of the evidence, what's stopping them from killing him too? And even if they don't find him, he fears the damn hospital bill might be his end. Yes, strange priorities, but his brain is buzzing and he feels sick and nauseous the longer he stays in this horrible room, staring down at the poor girl.

She looks younger than him, maybe a few years, maybe a lot, the pigtails give the illusion she might still be a teenager, but her body looks too developed for that. A thin face with high cheekbones, no baby fat, soft albeit small breasts, a narrow waist, plump hips, thighs just rounded enough to create that amazing thigh gap he likes so much. The initial thought is still there, and his cock agrees, she is beautiful, despite the state she is in.

And maybe that's why he forms an idea in his head: why not take her with him? Away from this place, into safety, then assess what help he can get her. She can't stay here, that's for sure. A better man would face the danger of being discovered by her abusers, to make sure she'll get the care she needs, no matter how expensive and uncomfortable it may get. A better man wouldn't crouch beside her limp body and stare and drool.

But he's not. He's a runaway, dropped out of college to party, then got too old and paranoid to return. Too distracted by the world around him. Traveling on a budget, with just enough money to feed himself once a day, couch surfing, loitering, pissing his life away one day at a time. It's only been during the last years that he's gotten a bit more stable, making a name for himself as a photographer, selling prints and doing commissions, and by coming into this city he's hoped to make it even bigger.

Renting an old loft he hopes to transform into a photo studio one day, he's trying to settle down. He still has barely any money, lives off those stupid strangers willing to pay for his pictures even though they're not even that special. He always hopes for the occasional exceptional find, something he could sell to newspapers, but even those prefer to steal their pictures off other people's Instagram instead of paying for a more professional shot. Tough times.

As he crouches next to the unconscious girl, the hand holding his camera twitches. It's an instinct to raise it, bring it in front of his eyes, look through the finder and press his thumb down to take a picture of her. He feels sick for it, but also... not. She's part of this little sex dungeon, the main attraction, actually, and it's an inborn need to burn her image into a bunch of pixels. Pics or it didn't happen. He considers sharing her story with whatever newspaper may want it, but then his name would be attached to the evidence, he could be linked to this scene, and what's stopping any corrupt cop to call him guilty for this? Or the bad guys to come and erase any kind of evidence? Him and her included?

She can't stay here. He can't keep staring at her. Something has to happen.

Before he puts his camera into his backpack, he can't help but take a few more pictures of her, of her wounds and injuries, of the evidence caked to her skin, the blood trailing down her inner thigh. Maybe justice will come one day, but he'll need pictures of the crime scene to make it happen. He also snaps a few shots of her face, peaceful in slumber, of her soft curves, those tiny feet with the ankles covered in rope burn. Those he does in several angles, maybe he has a future in selling feet pics. And it's not his fault the market exists.

The world is a sick place, and he's just trudging along.

Eventually he stores his camera in his backpack, then moves the blanket back around the girl. His hand finds her cheek, and it's warm to the touch, she's certainly still alive, and probably in pain, so he doesn't want to disturb the few quiet moments this cruel world has given her. He wraps her up and scoops her into his arms, a barely there weight, poor thing looks and feels malnourished on top of being treated so horribly.

Lifting her up, he realizes the light has turned from the soft sunset glow into the harsher, darker tones of the street lamps coming to life. Time to go. Maybe her abusers will return soon. He carries her out of the room, she's warm and soft in his arms, head resting against his shoulder, hair and one half of her face peeking out of the blanket cocoon. She's tiny, in comparison and in general, and knowing her fate he feels even worse for her.

His heart clenches by the time he's descended all those stairs, and when he reaches his point of entry, he hesitates. It's one thing to slip into a building during the day, nobody cares about a man with a camera creeping around old houses much, at least not in this kind of area, but knowing this place is frequently used for terrible little sex adventures, he feels uneasy now. The night is fast approaching, and he knows these kinds of things probably happen when the shadows fall.

Looking around, he decides to find another exit, preferably one leading around the back, and luck is on his side when he finds a broken window looking into a backyard filled with black trash bags. With the girl still in his arms, he climbs through, but slips on something at the last second. Curling his back, trying not to harm her further, he feels his backpack scraping over the rough wall, hoping it didn't damage his camera. It's one of his few prized possessions, but thinking about it, maybe he should reconsider his priorities.

He's carrying a life in his arms, a life he intends to save, so a broken camera, a replaceable thing, really isn't that big of a deal. He can always salvage the SD card inside anyway. No harm done. Rolling his shoulders, he shifts her against his chest, then continues through the dark alley. He's parked the hunk of metal he calls his car a few blocks away, at the edge of the neighborhood, hoping he'll still have all tires when he returns.

And indeed they are all there, as full and dirty as he's left them. The old truck was the last thing he could afford after renting out the loft, so even if he's bound to this city, relying on random strangers to finance his life, he has a means to get away if he has to. For now, he's pulling the passenger door open and carefully puts down the bundle of limbs and hair and blankets, and when he does, she suddenly stirs.

He freezes, staring at her as her eyelids flutter open. A soft groan escapes her, but when her wide eyes, beautiful dark irises, glazed and a little dull, but beautiful nonetheless, meet his, she stiffens too, lips parted, and he expects a scream, a distress call, anything, but she doesn't issue a single peep, just looks at him, almost calm, probably just glad she's still alive or thinking she died and woke up in a weird realm between the worlds where it's normal to wake up in unfamiliar places, facing unfamiliar people.

He still feels the need to calm her. “Hey, it's alright. No need to be afraid, I'm not here to harm you. I want to help you, okay? Do you understand?”

She blinks, her lips trembling, but then she utters a barely audible “Yes, sir”, and he feels his heart jumping a little. To his own shame, his cock does the same. He clears his throat, nods to her, then closes the door with a thud and rounds the car, putting his backpack into the covered truck bed. Her eyes are following him when he slips behind the wheel, despite her slouched position on the seat. She's eerily quiet, not at all concerned about a strange man packing her into his car.

He watches her as he pulls the seat belt over her small frame, then buckles himself in. “You'll be alright,” he says softly, giving her the hint of a smile, and she continues staring at him. She must be in shock, no other way to explain this behavior, probably fighting the pain coursing through her, the soreness and burning, the stickiness between her thighs, the memory of the whole ordeal. He can't blame her. It must have been absolute hell.

He starts the car, glad it does so on the first try, and maneuvers it back into the nightly city traffic until they reach the old warehouse at the edge of it. It's the cheapest he could find, between two concerning neighborhoods, but those are still better than the one he found her in. At least he has running water and electricity, and a bed. Hmm. One bed. He'll give it to her for now, trying to squeeze his big body onto the small couch. It'll work.

She's still only staring at him when he unbuckles her and picks her up, though her breaths are a bit more labored. Maybe the shock is fading, letting through the pain more and more. He hums soothingly to her, tells her it'll be alright, knowing the more he'll repeat that, the more she'll believe it. It's his life motto too, fake it till you make it. She's that pliant body in his arms as he carries her to the old elevator, hoping it'll last another day.

When he reaches his apartment door, he shifts her in his hold, and she winces, a horribly pathetic little sound he hopes never to hear again. “Sorry,” he mutters as he fumbles for his key and unlocks the door. “You'll feel better soon, I promise.”

Her warm breath hits his neck as she presses her face closer against him, a strangely submissive gesture, a naive hope to trust a stranger. He takes her straight to the bathroom, where he sets her on the closed toilet lid and slowly unravels the blanket from around her. She's sitting perfectly still, the only movement coming from her almost curious eyes as she watches his every move. She winces when he brushes against the welts on her skin, chest rising and falling a little faster, but that's about all the motion he gets from her.

When the blanket falls away, she's that naked thing covered in sweat and cum and blood, and it occurs to him what a strange situation this is. For him to just take her away, without informing anyone, authority or not, and for her to just accept it like this. She's awake, maybe a little dazed, but conscious enough that a normal girl would stir more, talk more, fuss and strain against his touches, maybe even try to flee or do anything to ensure her own safety.

But she is just sitting there, arms folded behind her back, watching him. She doesn't seem real. Like a robot. A brainless toy... And it occurs to him, that might just be what she is, what she has been. A body to use, handed around between vulgar men, an object to utilize in their sick fantasies turned reality. Of course he's no stranger to the news, especially the darker ones, those about trafficking and forced sex work, even if those stories barely make it past the usual political drama. It's another one of those morbid fascinations he can't seem to break.

He might just be as sick as those actually partaking in these illegal little sex gatherings, he's watched those videos, even though he's handled them like any other porn he's come across. As fake, a scene played out, a fantasy made as real as movie magic can make it, but to find this girl in this room, discarded and abandoned like a broken doll, left behind after everyone else was done and satisfied in their twisted, primal needs, shows him that those were not scenes, not fake, but brutal reality. It makes him angry.

“Can you stand?” he asks her quietly, tilting his head as he towers over her, and she nods, looking up at him, before straining her bruised body when she tries to move. His hands find her elbows, and she flinches, but lets him pull her onto her feet. “Oh fuck, your arms, I forgot,” he presses out, and quickly leans back to grab a pair of scissors off the counter behind him, then carefully moves around her to cut through the ropes holding her wrists and forearms together. When he's done, he lets her go, and she sways, arms flailing a little, her hands twitching as if she wants to hold onto him. He guides her into the shower, then steps back. She turns around immediately, eyes wide. “Do you need help?”

She bites her swollen lip. “Please,” she croaks, and the hoarse sound of her voice breaks his heart (but also thickens his cock). He nods, swallows hard, trying to fight the strange warmth pooling in his stomach, before he toes off his boots, strips off his hoodie and jeans, then steps behind her in just his boxers. He wants to show her he's not a predator, but he also doesn't want to get his only good pair of jeans wet and dirty. One day he'll be able to afford another one.

He grabs the shower head and turns the knobs on the wall, waiting for the water to heat up. She's shivering, her frail little body so tiny in front of him, one hand rubbing up and down the other arm, a mindless gesture, trying to ease her nerves probably. Her eyes, however, stay on him and his every move, very attentive, almost eager. It should feel a little bit more bizarre to share a shower with a girl he's just met (or rather found), but it's as if he's running on instincts, feeling the need to help her, make her feel better, ease her pain.

The steam fills his nostrils, and when he puts the water jet to her shoulder, she winces, flinches away, lets out a little whine, but ultimately returns under the spray and lets him clean the grime and sweat and other substances off her skin. He's careful not to put too much pressure on her bruises and the welts, and is glad they didn't break her skin, even though they look horrible, shining in a bright red as if the blood is pulsing just beneath her pale skin.

When he lowers the shower head to point it between her thighs, he hesitates, looks at her, but all she does is take a little side step and spreads her legs a bit more to allow him to do so. So fucking obedient, it's almost scary. The grime on her inner thighs is so persistent that he has to move his hand over her skin before he realizes he should probably use a wash cloth. Stepping back, he leans around the open door and grabs a small towel, wets it and then proceeds to rub the dirt (and cum and other things he doesn't want to think more about) off her thighs. She whines quietly when he moves the soft cloth over her folds, and he holds his breath, trying to be as gentle as he can be.

When he touches her clit though, she shudders and gasps, legs trembling, and her hand is on his arm then, holding on tightly, with a strength he wouldn't have expected from her. He watches how her eyes roll back, how her lips part and a little moan escapes her, and he just freezes, wash cloth pressed to her sensitive nub, unintentionally drawing a strange little orgasm out of her. Was she trained to be this sensitive, so responsive? To come on touch alone? He didn't even rub that hard.

He takes the cloth away slowly, and she calms down a little, breathing just a bit harder, but when her eyes meet his, she furrows her brows, bites her lip, mumbles a croaked “Sorry” as she lowers her head. He frowns at that, tilting his head.

“Nothing to apologize for,” he says quietly. “I... uh, didn't mean to do that either...”

Is she one of those poor girls who was bound to their master's (or whatever the man called himself who had her) will, to only do as he told her, to come on command, and to feel bad if she does so without permission? What a horrible fate... He would never ask her to hold her orgasm, he would want to see that reaction over and over again, allowing her all the pleasure she can get. Not that he'll ever want to do anything to her, but... in theory, of course.

He keeps cleaning her then, lets the warm water soak her bruised skin, and she just stands there, chin tilted up, eyes closed, wet hair cascading down her back, hanging over her shoulders, one side shorter than the other (how cruel to take away something from her, even as benign as part of her braid, but it's definitely crueler to treat her like a soulless body, and he's glad she's not missing any fingers or limbs instead).

Considering, her state could be worse. She's standing on her own, breathing just fine, she's probably very sore and aching, but the pain will fade and she could have a normal life after this, more or less, not counting the psychological trauma that seems to still hold her hostage. Well, it's not ideal, and maybe death would have been a relief after the torment, but she's young, she can work through this, it's possible. And maybe he can help her cope...

Looking at her petite frame, he feels his stomach tensing. It's wrong to feel like this, he knows it, he shouldn't even allow the smallest little thought into that direction, but he is just a man after all, standing with a naked young woman in his shower, and it's blatantly obvious what his cock thinks about this whole situation. He hopes she doesn't notice the tent in his boxers.

But he shouldn't worry, she doesn't seem to notice much, standing still under the spray of the water, and when he turns it off eventually, deeming her clean enough, she inhales deeply and opens her eyes, blinking away stray water drops. She remains immobile, and while he turns to grab a towel, she doesn't move an inch. When he starts drying her off, rougher than he intends, but his hands feel like they are shaking from the tension growing inside him, she winces a couple of times, but then presses her lips together and endures.

He's watching her like a hawk, apologizes for accidentally hurting her, tries to be as gentle as possible, and her eyes are glued to his face, not completely focused yet, still glazed and hazy, pupils blown for some reason, her gaze almost curious. What a strange little creature. He'd expected a victim of whatever type of rape she's experienced to be more... hysterical?

When he finally wraps the towel around her small body and another one around her damp hair, she seems to relax even more. Then she opens her mouth.

“Thank you, sir,” she whispers, looking up at him before bowing her head.

He stares at her, blinking in confusion. “Uh, you're welcome,” he says. “But, uh, you can call me Sam, okay? I'm Sam. No need for... honorifics or whatever, you know?”

There's a frown on her face when she looks back up, her lips moving as if she's repeating his name in her mind.

“What's your name?” he then asks, leaning against the sink as he watches her.

The frown deepens, her eyes moving away from him, flickering here and there as if she tries to find the answer somewhere in his bathroom. “I...” she starts, eyebrows furrowed before she exhales deeply, her shoulders sagging. “It doesn't matter,” she then replies.

“Huh?” he makes, staring at her. “What do you mean it doesn't matter? I'm sure you have a name. Did you forget?” He kicks himself mentally for assuming as much and for his harsh tone, but it's ridiculous.

She shakes her head, not to say no, but to clear her mind maybe? It's a frantic gesture. “It doesn't matter. I don't matter. I am... I am yours to... to use,” she mutters under her breath, hands clenching into fists at her sides.

“What now?” He gapes at her.

And then she is suddenly on her knees in front of him, the towel falling away, her small body folded with her hands lying neatly on her lap, her chin tilted up, looking at him with big eyes. “Please use me,” she says quietly.

He takes a step back, bumping into the cupboard next to the sink, staring down at the girl. Is she serious? He shakes his head, then walks back and grabs her elbows. “Come on, get up, no need to kneel before me, okay? Get up!”

His harsher, also slightly agitated tone makes her wince, but she's on her feet immediately, letting him pull her up, then stands stock-still before him, head lowered, a soft little whine escaping her. “I'm sorry...”

“Stop apologizing!” He lets go of her and runs a hand through his hair, sighing deeply. “I mean, ugh, wow. I'm sorry, too. You must be... well, you've been through so much, I don't mean to scare you or anything, I just...”

“Please,” she mumbles, breathing a little harder. She's shivering without the towel, the one on her head coming undone as well the more she shimmies on the spot. He stares at her, she has her hands clasped in front of her sex and squeezes her thighs together, small breasts squished, nipples erect, a deep blush almost hiding the red welts on her skin. “Please use me,” she then says again.

“No!” he blurts out, and she flinches, another sob escaping her. He groans. “I mean, come on! I will not just use you, I just met you, I found you! In that freaky sex room after you've been...” He stops when he suddenly meets her gaze. Her pupils are fully dilated, her already dark eyes shining entirely black. “You're in no condition to do anything but relax now, okay? Take it easy. Come on, I'll show you the bed.”

He's about to grab her hand when she turns her shoulder, avoiding his touch. He freezes, frowns. “In... no condition? Am I... not good... anymore?” Her voice is that feeble little hum, a desperate song sending shivers down his spine.

“What? No! You are good, you are perfect, you are so beautiful!” he croaks out, unable to stop the words. She tilts her head, blinking. “I mean, yeah, uh, you are, but that's not what I mean. You are... Look, whoever treated you like this, whoever hurt you, just left you there. And I couldn't not take you, you know? I want to help you, do you understand that? I want you to feel good again after –”

“Then use me,” she whispers, breathing harder, hands falling away from the obedient pose as she rubs them up and down her thighs, still squirming on the spot. “Please, it hurts...”

“Of course it hurts, they hit you with a fucking cane! They raped you!” he shouts, a little too loud, his emotions getting the better of him.

She flinches back, gasping with her lips parting, her eyes wide. “No... no, they were... they had to punish me because I... I was bad... I deserved it... and they... they used me like they should use me...”

Her words are mumbled, but he can still hear them, even though he wishes he couldn't. What a sick way of seeing things. What a fucked-up world where a pretty girl like her has these thoughts planted into her head.

Anger makes him clench his hands into fists. “They shouldn't have done that. You are a human being, a young woman, a beautiful girl, not a doll to play with, not a toy to use!”

She stares at him, eyelids fluttering, chest rising and falling faster, small breasts bouncing. Really not the time to notice that, mate!

“But,” she whispers, wincing slightly as she starts chewing on her lips. “But that... that's my purpose... I am... I am yours to use,” she repeats these last five words like something she had to learn without knowing the meaning behind it.

He approaches her slowly, carefully, his big hands find her small shoulders, and the touch makes her look up at him. “You are your own person. You have a name, even if you can't remember it right now, you had a mother and a father, maybe even siblings. You went to school, you had a job, maybe. You had dreams, everyone has dreams, for the future, things you wanted to have, places you wanted to see. You are not just a body for strange men to use. Not like that. Not without consent! You were not made to be punished, to be hurt because some random sicko gets off on it. Your body is so much more than just... holes to fill... and a canvas to soil with bruises and welts and... cum...”

His voice has become calmer, like a mantra, new thoughts to plant into her muddled brain, so he hopes, and she listens with her lips parted, eyes directly looking at him. Sometimes she frowns, sometimes she blinks, and when he finishes she licks her lips.

“But I want this,” she says quietly. “I want to be used...”

He sighs deeply and lowers his head, then shakes it in frustration. “No, somebody told you you should think like that! Nobody in their right mind wants to be raped and mutilated like that!”

A single sob makes him look up, and he lets go of her, straightening up. Her lips are trembling and her eyes watering before tears stream down her face. He lets out a groan.

“I'm sorry,” he grunts. “I didn't mean it like that! You are valid, whatever you want, of course, but... but you gotta agree it's a little strange?” She only cries harder, her small frame shaking. “Okay, look, no kink shaming or whatever, I just... I assumed, the way you were lying in that room, the state you were in, I thought you needed help! You looked horrible! I was about to call the police!”

She freezes at that, staring up at him. “No,” she gasps. “Don't do that! Please! I... I don't want any trouble... I... I'll do anything, but... please... not the police!”

He raises an eyebrow at that. This reaction surprises him. “Why not?” he asks, crossing his arms in front of his chest. She averts her eyes, breathing harder. He isn't very fond of them either, but why wouldn't she? Why would she prefer being gang raped and beaten and strangled over calling for help?

She presses her lips together, doesn't say a thing. For a moment they are both silent, standing in the bathroom, the naked girl and the guy with his tented boxers. Even now his cock doesn't agree with him. But he doesn't care about it anymore. This is a mystery he wants to unravel.

“Tell me,” he says, tone harsher, pointedly. She seems to reply better to commands.

And it seems to work. “He said he'd kill me if I talked to them,” comes her quiet answer, spoken to the tiled floor.

“He? He who?” he asks, his arms falling to his sides.

“Sir,” she replies, her shoulders shaking.

“Sir? Who calls himself Sir? Who is that? The man who did this to you?”

She shakes her head. “No. He... he found me, he took me in, and then... he... he sent me away because I was... a bad girl and he... he... they...” A series of sobs escapes her before her hands fly up to cover her face. Her cries pierce his heart. “Why did he send me away? What did I do?” she wails softly, muffled from behind her hands. “I was a good girl... always a good girl... did everything he said...”

He can't watch it anymore. While his rage for this unknown man grips his insides, he steps forward and pulls her against him, arms wrapped around her shuddering form, but she keeps crying, lets it all out, desperate and heartbreaking. He scoops her up and carries her to the bedroom, her tears hot on his skin, her whines loud in his ears.

Putting her down carefully, he pulls the blanket over her naked body and tucks her in, gently rubbing her side as she curls in on herself, continuing to cry miserably.

“Please stop crying,” he whispers, sitting down on the edge of the bed, hand still on her hip. “I'm sorry he treated you like that. But he let you go, you said so, so why don't you use that as a chance to move on, look ahead, find a new Sir? Or live your life without any man for a while? I'm sure that's nice too...”

She stares at him from under her clumped lashes, momentarily paused in her sobbing, only to cry out again when he suggests moving on. He sighs, letting her wail and whine until hiccups shake her form. She's not calming down, but she gets quieter, and he stands up then, walking down the stairs into the kitchen to get some water and a snack. When he returns, she's lying on her side, staring blankly ahead, eyes reddened, face flushed and wet, but she's stopped crying for the moment.

He sits back down on the edge and holds the water glass to her face. “Come on, drink something. Please.” She doesn't even look at him. He exhales loudly and puts the glass on the bedside table. “Fine. Well, it's there if you want it. I also brought some crackers, maybe you're hungry. I can get more later. Or just sleep, you definitely need that. Rest, get better, and tomorrow we'll figure something out, okay?”

She doesn't give a reply, and he shakes his head and leaves again, settling on the lumpy couch under the stairs, his eyes drifting back up to the loft area every now and then. He falls asleep thinking it was probably a bad idea taking this girl with him. For his sake. What if she is so sick in the head she'll stand over him with a knife in the middle of the night? Great thought to slumber over, really.

1 🟢 2 🟢 3

End notes: *And this was the plot part of our story, stay tuned for the sex frenzy to begin in the next chapter!

There will be three chapters in total, I'll upload every Wednesday.

Thank you for joining me on another little original story I needed to get out of my system.

AO3 / / / MASTERLIST

[panicloser]

Okay last thing before I shut up for a bit at least until tomorrow:

Overall, I did enjoy myself while watching this season but I do agree that this season is definitely flawed.

But my issue this season is not so much WHAT they did, I actually really like a lot of the concepts and ideas presented in this season, I think they're really interesting and can add a lot. MY issue is the WAY they did those things or the moment that they happened or I think certain things could of used more time and development or just done slightly differently.

(also the writers should have communicated with their actors better (Simone Kessel & Lauren Ambrose))

Alright if you're not interest in a long spur of the moment yap session stop here

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-I don't like that they rushed through the warm months, I would've happily spent the whole season in that era, it feels like there's so much time that was skipped. But I do like that it was a prosperous era for them, it allows them to grow more enjoyment of the wilderness. So I see why they may have skipped through that because the writers may have thought that could have been boring. It could have. But it also could have been interesting to see things go to shit at the end instead of halfway through.

-I'm really into Melissa and Shauna's relationship, even more than I thought I would be. I love what it did for Shauna, I love the power dynamics, I loved learning more about Melissa, I loved both their conflict and weird fucked up connection. I honestly loved every single scene they have had together. BUT I think it could have been done better. There's an imbalance in how close I feel to both of them, we've been learning about Shauna since season 1 meanwhile we only began learning more about Melissa this season. I wish that in season 2 Melissa had been more of an actual character, a side character, but a character the way Mari & Akilah were characters. And I wish we'd focused more on her as an individual, I still have a lot of questions, when did she start liking Shauna? Why was she attracted to her brutality? I got the idea that she wants to be special to someone cuz turns out she wanted Shauna to treat everyone else like shit except her, but why does she want that? Cuz she felt overlooked? They could have gone deeper into that. I also wish we saw more moments of connection between before they broke up, they were dating for months so Shauna must have had some moments of affection towards her for Melissa to stay so long cuz we saw she wasn't afraid to stand her ground when Shauna's was being shitty to her, so why didn't we get to see that? It could have made Shauna's rise to brutality in the end even more impactful by seeing that's she's capable of momentary moments of love. Why did we never see them kiss again? What did they do together? What were their nights in the hut like? How close did they get? Adult Melissa seemed to know Shauna REALLY well. Speaking of which, Melissa being a survivor was unnecessary and I stand by that BUT even that I have mixed feelings about since I did thoroughly enjoy Melissa reading Shauna to filth then turning out to be a hypocrite by killing Van. Maybe I could have been fine with Melissa being a survivor if I just FELT closer to her as a character...and also if they had maybe waited another season to reveal that. But still, I'm glad their relationship happened rather than not

-I am not opposed to Lottie dying, I'm fine with them all dying I get that's in the theme of the show. I am opposed to how EARLY she died. I am opposed to that fact that they began to set up this really interesting dynamic with her and Callie that I was really enjoying and intrigued to see where it went only to rip it away. At the very least, I wish Lottie had died at the END of the season. They could have spent the entire season building up and exploring this dynamic between Callie and Lottie and both of them as characters only for Callie to end up killing her at the end, because I really like that part. The wilderness baby, the product of the wilderness, the one that Lottie worshiped so dearly being the one to kill her is phenomenal.

-I think Hannah joining the group was interesting, but like Melissa I think it all happened too fast. Her being apart of the whole plan at the end didn't feel as impactful from her because we just met her, I don't feel an attachment to her yet so it feels like that plan could have been executed with a different character. But I love that she killed Kodi, I love that she was beginning to make connections, it just could've been better.

-Taissa's wife & child & previous career all being pushed away this season is irritating but I think it could have been done well. I like the other Taissa taking over plot line and that causing her to neglect those parts of her life. I just think they could've discussed and it incorporated her old life by giving her actual consequences for neglecting those parts of her life

-I'm actually quite happy with the execution of Van's death but I get why the actress was unhappy with it, it definitely happened quickly and there could have been more to be done with Van as a character. But I do think the show and the season was definitely building up to her death, it made sense. And the scene itself was actually really good, the music killed it, Van having her last moment be doing something good, Van in the plane watching herself, saying she brought the real love of her life back. I just wish she hadn't been killed by fucking Melissa. All those times she avoids death and the perry the platypus lesbian that just became a character this season is what gets her??

-Love how Ben & Mari's deaths were executed too

-LOVE Misty, she's always good. I love that she's the sanest one this season, really shows how crazy this shit has gotten because she was the weird one back in season 1 and now the few weird things she does are just business as usual. And I LOVE that she's been calling Shauna out on her shit this season, it's hilarious and she's so right and I'm so happy for her. No notes, Misty is perfect.

-The other thing I have no notes on is what we've learned about Natalie and Misty this season, the LAYERS! Make their whole previous dynamic make so much sense and it's gonna make rewatching them so SO interesting and enjoyable.

-Also, I loved the trial in episode 4. It was really good, really engaging, one of my favourite episodes this season other than what happened at the end of the episode (Lottie death)

-The scene of Natalie crying as snow falls was also perfect and insanely heartbreaking.

-And I love how Mari was developed this season, I wasn't into her as a character before this but I really learned to love and appreciate her with the way they fleshed her out. I'm gonna miss the hell out of her next season.

-I think there was a lot going on this season, the first half and second half feel like they happened in different seasons

-Last of all: Shauna's rise to power and where it ends: for the most part love it. I actually wanna do a an entire analysis on Shauna specifically but I wanna rewatch the show first so I'll talk about that another time. But I think the way she took over and stopped everyone from leaving when they were about to was lazily written far too quickly and seemed far fetched so makes it feel a bit less earned. But I'm still cool with it happening. Now for where it ends, I have two different opinions: on one hand, I love that she's become the embodiment of all the awful things in the wilderness, this show began with her, it works for her and what she's been through, I love how horrible she is and how she saw that as her peak. However it is not lost on me that the iconic pit girl scene, lost that group mentality of the horrible actions that the show set up in season 1 and 2. BUT then I think that maybe it's interesting how they lost that group mentality they had, that everyone else (except Lottie) is tired of the horrible things they've done out here yet Shauna is still holding on to this. Shauna is still stuck there. And she wants everyone else to be stuck there with her because she doesn't want to be alone in that. She wants everyone else to be like her. That's why she says "WE had fun." So that's why she forces everyone to be stuck with her and that's exactly why she's the embodiment of the worst of the wilderness. But I understand that it's a lot of whiplash to so drastically change the nature of that scene from what it originally was pitched as.

-also the JackieShauna confirmations this scene resurrected my lifeless corpse and I also wanna do an analysis on their relationship

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Alright that's ENOUGH yapping for now. Overall, I'm happy enough with what we got and I can see the good in it even though it's not as good as it could have been and there's been disappointments. But that's okay! I'm just glad this happened and I hope there's more. There's more to say I'm sure but that's what's on my mind at the moment. Love you ppl 😘

[lustviolence]

Happy Valentine’s Day~

Picture this, you’re watching me get ready for a date. See which panties I choose, which skirt I slip into, what sluty cropped top I managed to put on. You love that I end up in sheer tights before leaving the house.

I always make it a point to show up early on dates. Give myself time to prepare. which you love. Allows you plenty of time to sit next to me at the bar. Make small talk, slip something in my drink. Then watch me go on the worse date.

You can tell I don’t vibe with his conversation. I also realize I don’t feel good, and use it as the best excuse to leave. You follow me into the parking lot. I’m stumbling now, what I thought was just a a headache is quickly turning into a blur as I use my car to hold my balance.

It was so easy for you to walk right over and just scoop me up and put me in the back sit. I don’t even remember you driving us back to your house. I wake up on your bed. Confused at my location but also cause my body feels all tingly.

Once my eyes adjust I see you. You’re ripping my tights “That’s good your finally awake. God you dressed up so pretty, but he was such a bore right? Don’t worry I know what you’re into. God your gonna feel so good”

My eyes go wide as my brain begins to understand the situation. My legs are spread over your lap, you’re pulling my thong to the side and sliding your fingers in. “Fuck your so wet, I knew you liked this”

I try to stop your hands but my limbs feel heavy.

And it’s getting harder to focus, you’re circling my clit now. I try to squirm but you just pull my hips closer to you, causing my too to scrunch up and expose my tits. “Come on now, you’re doing this on purpose huh?”

I feel my body shake as you bring me to an orgasm. You laugh and unzip your pants, pulling your cock out and teasing your tip against my pussy. “Fuck I’m going to make you love this”

You feel my hard shaft gently rubbing against your clit ,feeling the warmth of my cock over your skin as i get closer , your breath exhale a bubbly soft moan , silencing it with a kiss your intoxicated mind betrays your sense of endangerment, responding with your tongue twisting mine.

Geting back for a second , you hear " you're really desperate for cock, are you? , between mumbles your pretty mouth words out a yes.

"Thats why you keep going on dates with losers? ..... it's a Shame, you looked too pretty and usable tonight to go back home horny ,i couldn't help myself from raping your sweet cunt i'm sorry .

You try to talk but using my left hand i accommodate my fat cock and force it's way in . Every inch fills your insides ,twitching your walls as the thickness stretches your cumhole. Your brain can't articulate words or fight back when im pacing slow strokes.

i hold your soft bouncy tits, just to put my mouth arround and suck them into being marked .

You can't oposse anymore , feels too good to your touched starved body giving in being "my valentine victim" , loudly moaning and gatherring your hands around my head ,grabbing my hair while I kept raping and drooling my tongue all over your niples.

The more i punched your cervix ,the more i felt your cream drench all over it .

The slow pace switched into a fast harsh pound .

what are you ? I asked with a raspy voice .Your intoxicated unconcious gave you the appropriate answer......

Your whore you replied between moans

What are you? I asked again louder

Your whore you screamed gasping

Hearing all that made me lose control ,hate fucking your pathetic cumhole in full force ,i kept pressing nonstop, building up the climax and draining all my cum deep inside.

The drugs , my body pressure, and feeling stuffed finally made you pass out .

After taking pictures of your pretty rapehole driping my cum out ,i seated by your side , groping your sleepycunt and filling it again .

Can't wait for round 2 when you wake up

( why im so obssesed over this? Did an anon matched my freak ? , i kept reading your words over and over again , and every single time made my cock throbb so much , dont know how to put it , wouldnt make justice for how this felt for me ,im going to conclude this with a silly question , where do you live ?)

Happy valentines to you too lovely , D.