#lacuna mind

[disruptivevoib]

Did I ever post this???? Lacuna things...

[autumnalwalker]

Last Line Tag

Thank you for the tag, @ahordeofwasps.

Passing the (optional) tag to @blind-the-winds, @rickie-the-storyteller, @talesofsorrowandofruin, @emberlyric, @oh-no-another-idea, and the usual open tag to anyone else who wants to participate.

From the upcoming Chapter 23 of Empty Names:

Ashan nods.  “Very well then.  It would be untruthful of me to deny a certain eagerness in the face of otherwise waiting one more day.  Let us begin.”

Lacuna’s face suddenly flushes from aspects not thought through and she averts her eyes.

“Right… About that… You’re gonna need to, well, take off your robe again.”

“That makes sense.”

“And this time I’ll… need to…” Lacuna trails off into a mumble.

“Come again?”

“I’ll need to be making skin contact for the duration of the ritual.”

“Ah.” Ashan swallows.  “I see.”

[corneille-moisie]

i was tagged by @im-sometimes-sparkles to spell my url with song titles and did not want to reblog the long reblog chain (you can reblog this one or make your own, either's fine by me :) )

candis - sukekiyo

obscure - dir en grey (cw for gore and other gross stuff, just in case)

rink - blam honey

nas ne dagoniat - tatu (not gonna get us works too :D)

energize me - after forever

inner universe - hora

l'horloge - chanton l'amour

last hallucination - schwarz stein

even in death - evanescence

-

maze - velvet eden

ophelia - kaya

if i could turn back time - cher

senzafine - lacuna coil

iidk - vidoll

edema ruh - nightwish

im tagging @moonjaehwa, @ans-main, @technicontrastron, @kurumeki, @jade-curtiss because im curious but you're under no obligation to actually do it lol :3

eta : no need to link everything, im just extra like that ^^

and if you were not tagged and wanna do it, go ahead, do it !! (tag me though, i wanna see 👀 !!)

[reneesbooks]

lacuna cast vs a cockroach

@serenanymph my wonderful morbo tagged me in this fantastic tag game. tagging @ashen-crest @akindofmagictoo and @lyssa-ink to try it out if they feel so inclined <3

Maura: has never seen a cockroach before because the servants are good at their jobs. throws every spell she knows at it while screaming for Keelan's help. 5/10 doing her best (derogatory)

Keelan: grew up on a farm and is already Mortal Enemies with cockroaches. spends a minute preening about Maura asking for his help before the cockroach moves. he screams like a little girl and hits it with his sword, cutting it in half and killing it instantly. has a maid come to get the corpse just in case. 9/10 doing his best (affectionate)

Rosaleen: picks up the cockroach and puts it outside. 10/10 shame she died

Proteus: demands to know if the cockroach knows who he is. also summons Keelan's help but in a more "you're a commoner you know what to do when things don't do what you want them to" way. 2/10 learn how to talk to other human beings

Birdie: picks up the cockroach and immediately runs to show it to everyone she knows. doesn't understand why the grown-ups are freaked out or why Sissy is screaming. 11/10 baby we don't deserve you

Levi: uses a spell of some kind. nobody knows what happened to the cockroach and many live in fear of where it went. -1/10 where is the cockroach Levi

Jack: tries to hype himself up by bragging to Arthur about how good he is at killing cockroaches. 45 minutes and one small fire later, he carries the dead cockroach out of the flat while ugly crying. he did not kill it. 3/10 points for effort

Arthur: kills the cockroach with a book he had on his nightstand but lets Jack have a go at it first. also lets him take the cockroach corpse outside so that he still gets that victory. 8/10 points lost for having a cringefail boyfriend (that's not even his boyfriend)

Vonnie: bold of you to assume Vonnie doesn't have a family of cockroaches in her desk. bffs with all the cockroaches in the city. drinking buddies with the local cockroaches. sees a cockroach and goes "cheers i'll drink to that bro" 15/10 queen of living in harmony with nature

[fihof]

i feel like every time i read a bnha fic where izuku’s first interaction with all might goes differently, EVERY TIME i have the thought “oh yeah this is how it should’ve gone”

[porciaenjoyer]

hey girl your boyfriend is not physically present but his absence is so palpable that he’s starting to haunt the narrative. yeah we can all feel his presence. he isn’t here but we can all sense him

[veethefreeelf]

RM / KIM NAMJOON Fic Recs (I)

M - Mature (minors DNI) / F - Fluff / A - Angst / HpE - Happy Ending

None of these works are mine, I tagged all the authors, make sure to go to the authors page, like and reblog their works

new guy - one-shot, 5.5K - by @kithtaehyung - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Solace - one-shot, 13.5K - by @m-yg93 - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

the interpretation of dreams - one-shot, 13.8K - by @ppersonna - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

out of my league mini Series by @ppersonna (go through their masterlist, trust) -> M / A / F / HpE

lost in the funhouse - one-shot, 9.7K - by @dovechim - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE?

The Body Through Time - one-shot, 10.9K - by @yeoldontknow - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

False awakening - one-shot, 6.8K - by @taleasnewastime - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Between the pages - one-shot, 4.5K - by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

you, after all - one-shot, 6.8K - by @effortandmore - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

the sleeping hours - one-shot, 12K - by @effortandmore again because their writing is beautiful -> M / A / F / HpE

tuesday moon - one-shot, 7.7K - by @effortandmore again. Just read all of their Masterlist, please, you won't regret it -> M / F / HpE

worth all your while Series by @effortandmore (just leave here and go to their page) -> M / minor A / F / HpE

promises - one-shot, 18K - by @jeonbunnie - full Masterlist -> M / major A / F / You can choose your ending

lacuna - one-shot, 7K - by @eoieopda - full Masterlist - this one has a prequel and a sequel, do yourself a favor and read all of them -> M / A / F / HpE

The Making of: Love - one-shot, 12.7K - by @inkjam-moon - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Not Another Holiday Romance - one-shot, 32.3K - by @kpopfanfictrash - full Masterlist - this one is one of my absolute favorites, they never disappoint -> M / A / F / HpE

The Rich Man's Crochet Club - one-shot, 32.4K - by the incredible @kpopfanfictrash again -> M / A / F / HpE

My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold Series by @daechwitatamic - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

give and take - one-shot, 10.5K - by @ddaenggtan - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

midnight wishes - one-shot, 10.3K - by @ddaenggtan again because they write Namjoon beautifully -> M / A / F / HpE

Moon Child - one-shot, 16K - by @adonis-koo - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Scent of a Woman - one-shot, 10K - by @sahmfanficbts - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

The Take-Home Test - one-shot, 11.3K - by @versigny - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

keep in step - one-shot, 2.6K - by @jjkeverlast - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

On With The Show - one-shot, 33.9K - by @joheunsaram - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

reflection - one-shot, 18.6K - by @jimilter - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

A Fine Line Series by @moni-logues - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

All Night - one-shot, 12K - by @luaspersona - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

real magic - one-shot, 16.7K - @here2bbtstrash - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

deep end - one-shot, 4.2K - by @here2bbtstrash again because their writing is incredible -> M / F / HpE

The Stand-In - one-shot, 13.5K - by @yoonia - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

doom boy - one-shot, 4.2K - by @soft4gguk - full Masterlist -> M / HpE

s u g a r - one-shot, 10.8K - by @joonberriess - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

rivals academia - one-shot, 4.2K - by @aseaofyoongi - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / HpE

Love Language - one-shot, 14K - by @rmnamjoons - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Castaways - one-shot, 25.5K - by @rmnamjoons - this one is absolute GOLD -> M / A / F / HpE

all aboard! (the passion express) - one-shot, 10.8K - by @ve1vetyoongi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Inside My Mind - one-shot, 19.2K - by @jimlingss - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

His Majesty - one-shot, 9.6K - by @yoonieper - full Masterlist -> M / A / minor F / HpE

Dragonfire - one-shot, 7.3K - by @hamsterclaw - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

obsessed - one-shot, 13.8K - by @namjuicyy - full Masterlist - really read the trigger warnings for this one please, it's not for everyone (it's brilliant tho) -> M / A / F / HpE

Untitled - one-shot, 16K - by @ahundredtimesover - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Dino-Mite - one-shot, 34.7K - by @chimcess - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Cherry Muffins and Lavender Tea - one-shot, 8.1K - by @roses-ruby - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

English literature - one-shot, 7.6K - by @tayegi - full Masterlist - this one also has a sequel, be sure to check it out as well -> M / F / HpE

glasses-clad boy - one-shot, 10K - by @jeongi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Love Borrowed - one-shot, 7K - by @goldenkookietae - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Love is Blind - one-shot, 7.4K - by @helenazbmrskai - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

the snow globe effect - one-shot, 10K - by @gukyi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

there was a bug - one-shot, 7K - by @kimnjss - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

[zer0wzs]

𝙨𝙤𝙤𝙣 ("𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙗𝙞𝙧𝙩𝙝𝙙𝙖𝙮!")

[ gn!reader ] it's your birthday and your boyfriend is unfortunately not physically present. however, some other people have plans. jason todd x reader [ also heavy reader & batfam i guess ] wc: 2018 cws: n/a!

an: was supposed to post this on my birthday almost two weeks ago but i couldn't finish it on time because of a lot of stuff LOL

As you sip on your coffee, you finally take a look at your messages. 

It’s empty for the most part—save for a few birthday greetings from friends and a few messages from scammers about how you won a car (jokes on them; you don’t even have a license!). There’s one message that catches your eye immediately, though.

j 🫀 | 00:00 happy birthday baby 💖💘🫶🫶 really sad that i still wont be home for a couple more days i’m gonna make it up to you every way possible i’m all yours when i get back 💘

You find yourself smiling at his messages—of course because of the content of the text itself, but also for a lot of other things, from how he greeted you at the exact moment of your birthday to how he’s picked up some of your texting mannerisms to his very limited amount of number of messages compared to yours.

You | 09:03 awwwwsshwhJSJFHG 💖💖💖 i love you so much jay!!! imysm pls love come backk… 😞😞😞  ur team better use their time with u wisely u quite literally wont escape me once you step foot back in our apartment

Not giving much more thought to your reply, you continue on with your work, thinking on the side what you’ll do after. Your friends aren’t coming over; they’ve been assigned to meet on Saturday so that you have the whole day to yourselves. Still, you feel like treating yourself a little.

Curing this thought, you find that after work, you gravitate towards the hominess of your favorite thrift store. The owner is an older man who keeps the place the same as it has been since its establishment years ago.

The selection is far from filtered, a completely random selection for the most part, but it adds to the charm. However, his daughters usually help out, and you get to chat with them. They’ve known you as a regular now.

You slip a pair of headphones on and get to work, sifting through a few racks of clothes, shelves of trinkets, and stacks of records. Your jacket, or rather a coat, is wrapped around your waist to make your awfully formal self stand out less in the sea of people in the cozy shop.

You pick up some things mostly for yourself, but a few also with Jason in mind. No reason in particular, but if he asks, it's a welcome-back gift. You found a vinyl pressing of Comalies by Lacuna Coil—something you vaguely remember that he’s been looking for a while now.

Speaking of him, you mindlessly open your phone, hoping to see a message from him.

Nothing. Oh, well.

The walk is only a few blocks away, but your arms are slightly worn from the sifting through the aisles of items. You’re sure you’ll make it, though, even if the bags full of finds weigh a little heavy in your hands. Once you make it to your floor, you can just feel the exhaustion radiating from your arms. You could use a nap right now,

“YN!” You see Steph jump the moment you turn the lights on.

The whole apartment is decorated, decked in classic birthday decor—like balloons and banners. You note a few heads rising from the place they previously were from.

You know, coffee’s good, too. It’s only 6 PM.

As you eye around the room, the picture becomes clear: there are quite a few members of Jason’s family here—notably Dick, Steph, Cass, Tim, Duke, and Damian.

They all look at each other, uneasy. A moment later, a garbled chorus of birthday greetings is shouted. 

“Thank you. I’m flattered.” You mumbled, setting your bag of thrifted goods down as you closed the door. “How did you all get here, though-”

“Good question.” Steph nervously laughed, leaping to your side and hooking an arm around you. At this point, the rest of the family wave their hellos before finalizing a few pieces of decoration. “Come on! We made dinner—or, well, Alfred did.”

“Oh, is he here? Where is he?” You said, your lips turning to a smile. It’s been a while since you’ve seen him, you recalled.

“Sorry, he’s at the mansion, busy tending to the old man.” Steph sighed, noticing your excitement.

“Ah,” you nod, still very up in your head. You’re overwhelmed, frankly, but still grateful as ever. To be honest, you’re not the best at receiving surprises like this. “Thank you, though. I��m just a little, well, surprised.”

“Of course,” Dick hummed, quickly joining the conversation between the two of you. “We knew Jason couldn’t make it, and we really wanted you to enjoy your birthday somehow. You’ve done a lot for him and for us as well.”

“Oh, thank you, but it isn’t a huge—”

You’re not even in your kitchen when Damian appears in front of you with a stoic look on his face. If this whole thing was set when you first met Jason, you would’ve thought that he did not want to be here and did not like you at all.

Rest assured, though, his siblings say otherwise. They enjoy teasing him and telling you that he searches for your company from time to time. One time, Dick said he was near deadset on inviting you to Gotham Zoo, seeing how they had your favorite animal sheltered there recently.

“Do you need any assistance with those bags?” He looked at you, eyes flicking down to the plastic bags in your hands.

You shake your head, making strides towards the hallway. “Um, no, thank you. I’m just going to carry these to my bedroom-”

Immediately, he steps in and grabs them. “You shouldn’t exert yourself any further. It’s your birthday, after all. I’ll be taking these.”

Oh. Okay. You stand there a little dumbfounded but nodding. It’s not like you can’t stop him either; he’s already making his way to your room.

Your phone buzzes. You open to see it. It’s from Jason. You sigh, knowing he won’t be able to make it.

j 🫀 | 18:24 i’ll be back really soon don’t you worry 💖

Attached to his message is a video. While the others are distracted, you lower your phone’s volume to watch it. You can just feel the embarrassment on his face as he records a video of himself singing Happy Birthday to you behind some dingy place.

How the hell did he even send it from there? Oh, the wonders of reception, you supposed.

You quickly type out a response for him, rocking from the balls of your heels to your toes with your lips only spread out. You couldn’t wait for “a few more days” or something. You also tell him how his family threw a last-minute birthday party and how you can’t be any happier (It just really isn’t visible with the exhaustion weighing heavy on your shoulders.).

“Is everything all right now?” You hear Dick ask Duke, Cass, and Tim from behind you. You turn around to see them giving him an affirmative yes.

“All right then,” he grins. Steph is pulling a cake from your fridge, and it's only now that you realize that your countertop is filled with your favorite cuisines by Alfred. You worry about the amount of time this took up on top of the rest of the tasks he has to tend to.

They all sing a happy birthday to you, a mixture of liveliness and yet also idleness, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything nonetheless. Sure, your brain might be more than overloaded at this point, but you’re just thankful that they made the collective effort to celebrate your birthday.

It makes you feel a little bad because of all of the trouble you’re more than certain had arisen because of this, but you push that thought back. They don’t need to hear that.

All six of them are standing in front of you, and it only denies your fears of being alienated and inconsequential to the greats who are the family before you. You’re not sure why or how they accepted you wholeheartedly, but God, do you not just take the love that they give?

Your phone rings, and you look to see who it is. You pick up—it’s Jason.

You notice how Steph wants to go back to you once more, but you mumble an apology to her, telling her that your boyfriend was calling. She nodded and headed over to Duke to, what you can assume, is chit-chat.

“Hello! Good evening, Jay-love,” you hum.

Your viewpoints to Dick, who looks at you curiously. Your voice is far from loud, and you do not want to disrupt anything, so you mouth Jason’s name to him before he nods and continues talking to Tim, Cass joining in.

“Hey, baby, happy birthday,” a few words follow, but you can’t hear much because of the chattering around you.

“Ah, thank you. I miss you,” you chuckled. “Could you come again, though? I can’t hear well.”

You hear a chuckle from the other end. “No, it’s fine. I was just saying that I really wish I was there right now.”

“Oh, yeah,” you reply half-mindedly, looking over the group. “Your family’s really sweet. I feel cared for.”

“You are. How could someone not like ya’?”

“Thanks.” You giggle in reply. You play with the ends of your shirt while talking to him, finding yourself leaning against a wall. Breaking the conversation from the sudden end, you spoke up. “So, when again are you coming back?”

“Real soon. Promise.”

“Would it kill you to be a little bit specific? I’m asking you a-” You stand there, giggling, but the banter stops among the family when two hands cover your field of vision completely.

“Guess who.”

Immediately, you know. From his voice to the callouses on his fingertips to the warmth radiating behind you.

“You’re too old to be saying that.” You spit back, not thinking twice about what you were saying.

You hear a dramatic, exaggerated scoff from behind you as his hands pull themselves away. You turn back but do note how everyone’s eyes are fixed on you and the man behind. Only whispers could be heard—you feel your ears redden.

Despite this, have you ever had the ability to contain yourself around him? You dive straight into him and pull him tight. For the first time in a really long while, he’s here. He’s here, he’s real, and you’re not wasting a single second of it.

“Missed you too.” He mumbles on top of your head. He shifts you two so that his back is faced towards his family. “I’m really sorry that it took so long-”

“Tsk,” you put a finger to his lips, taking a step back with his hands finding their way down your waist. “Uh-uh, it’s my birthday, and I want none of that.”

“Okay, okay,” he sighed, a hand climbing up your spine and finding itself on your cheek as the thumb caressed the edges and crevices of you.

“Thank you.” You put a hand on top of his.

“Of course, birthday love.”

On your tiptoes, you give him a peck on the cheek after he redirects you to his lips, discontented with the first kiss from when he came back being so brief. It only lasts a few seconds, but you know you’re gonna get more later.

You feel a tenderness pool inside of you. There’s something about the way he gazes at you—so full of love, so full of admiration you can’t help but give back—that makes you forget that you’re just feet away from his family.

“About the party,” he cleared his throat, hand finding your lower back as you rejoin the rest of the group. “I was the one who orchestrated it.”

You hear a loud gasp from Tim. “Um, no? I was the one who had the idea.”

“I was actually the one who helped spark that idea?” Steph joined. “I think I deserve at least some credit here.

You find yourself standing in a room, never feeling more loved than now.

[disruptivevoib]

Lacuna: an unfilled space or interval; a gap.

[fiapartridge]

eternal sunshine ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚

“please let me keep this memory. just this one.”

☼ pairing: jack hughes x reader

☼ summary: wanting to forget the existence of jack hughes and her entire relationship with him, y/n l/n visits lacuna inc. in new york city, in which she recounts memories of him for the last time…

☼ fia’s note: hi! i love eternal sunshine of the spotless mind & ariana grande’s new album is amazinggg so i thought i’d write a series to celebrate it! enjoy!

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

— y/n’s memories ♡

01. intro (end of the world)

02. bye

03. don’t wanna break up again

04. Saturn Returns Interlude

05. eternal sunshine

06. supernatural

07. true story

08. the boy is mine

09. yes, and?

10. we can’t be friends (wait for your love)

11. i wish i hated you

12. imperfect for you

13. ordinary things

*₊ ° .　. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆

[antigonick]

Do you have any recs for more obsucre experimental poetry?

Not particularly obscure, no, but some who experiment with what writing can do and that I love: obviously Anne Carson (particularly Fragments of Stesichoros, Variations on Ibykos, Decreation), Alice Oswald (particularly Memorial and Nobody), Hanif Abdurraqib (his work on voice and pacing is phenomenal; everything is worth a look, but A Little Devil in America is a good first pick), Frank Bidart (more so his early work, like The Book of the Body), Natalie Diaz (less about format and more about thematics: the way she uses eroticism as political is just--mwah; see Post-Colonial Love Poem), Rainer Maria Rilke (the most abstract of his writings are also most extraordinary--see Sonnets to Orpheus; in English, Crucefix is lovely and unique in his takes on the text); Emily Berry and Rebecca Lindenberg have the same sort of cheeky experimenting with format and lacunae that I enjoy, though not everything is strong--see especially Letter to Husband by Emily Berry and Love, a Footnote, by Rebecca Lindenberg; Gertrude Stein (Tender Buttons obviously); OBVIOUSLY too E. E. Cummings, everything he's ever written, because he's a fucking GENIUS. Okay. And not technically advertised as poetry, but two things: John Cage's letters to Merce Cunningham (his attempts at translating music-feeling into written meditations are so thought-provoking), and fiction-camouflaged poetry--Faulkner and his experimentations with point of view. I learned a lot about what writing could do in The Sound and the Fury. Finally, experiments in translation are an amazing way to rubik's cube a text and put its intersubjectivity at the forefront: see Andal's sacred poetry doubly-translated by Ravi Shankar and Priya Sarukkai Chabria in Autobiography of a Goddess, Anne Carson's own works which I've already cited (her work in liberal translation is usually better than the solely authorial stuff, though usually translational and authorial are irretrievably linked in her writing anyway--a good example is her Bakkhai); feminist, anti-racist or anachronical works of translation, which challenge the idea of "faithfulness" and lampshade translator's subjectivity (no, not Ezra Pound: leave Ezra Pound on his shelf, we're good); if you have French, Olivier Py's translations of Shakespeare for the stage--much more exciting and baroque (and queer) than what Bonnefoy did, even if Bonnefoy's own poetry is quite striking. He's timid with Shakespeare, and that's a disservice. Oh, poetry-as-theatre and definitely experimental: Sarah Kane, too, though she's hard to go through. She explodes writing and expression though, and it's extraordinary.

That's all that comes to mind for now; I hope something in there strikes your fancy!

[mazeruffleposts]

Hashira's React! Pt. 2

HAPPY LATE VALENTINES DAY!!! I wanted to do something for the Hashira, especially since I haven't written for them in a hot minute now. I do plan on making a Hashira's React! special for my birthday, even though it's already passed.

Content Warning: Fluff

Word Count: 2031 words

Proofread? No.

Hashira's React to Sweetheart!Reader surprising them on Valentine's Day! Reader surprises them with something nice that they have been planning for a while!

Lacuna- A blank space. Used in place of your name

GYOMEI

Gyomei is a simple man, he never would wish for anything fancy or over the top from you, his love. Though to be honest, the holiday still snuck up on him. He had been so busy leading up to it that it had slipped his mind.

Que to him spending most of the day traveling back home after a ridiculously long mission only to find that the house is damn near empty, save for the few attendants cleaning like all is normal. You are nowhere to be found.

He assumes that you were out doing something in the nearby town and didn't think much about it. He goes to the private bathroom you two share to freshen up.

About two hours or so later, he greets you at the door with a big ol' hug.

Insert surprise Pikachu face when you inform him you want him to follow. You lead him down the path leading to a small creek near the house.

There you set up a small picnic with his and your favorite foods. To top it all off you brought out a book that you had been interested in reading for a while, but put it off till you could spend time and read it to him. Knowing that he loves your voice.

"My dear Lacuna, you are a true blessing. There is no better gift you could have given me than your time and affection. I feel loved beyond words."

TENGEN (+ Hina, Suma, And Makio)

Tengen is a sucker for the dramatic! He loves to see what all his partners come up with for special occasions and will go out of his way to help when he can. Though he can't help but feel a little bummed to think you and the other wives haven't planned anything special this year. He took it as his chance to swoop you all up for a surprise trip somewhere. The four of you WERE planning something, and for once you were able to keep him from finding out about it beforehand.

He had recently been so busy with a rather nasty demon's nest a few districts over and hadn't been able to come home for a while. The letters you all sent never spilled anything about the surprise you all had.

After trudging back home over a few days flowers in hand for each of you, he finally stepped through the threshold of the house and was greeted with the sight of all four of his partners dressed in extravagant kimonos, hair done up, and bright smiles.

The Halls and rooms of your home had decorations ranging from hanging lights to written letters proclaiming various reasons why you all love one another. The aroma of the good food you all had been helping to prepare took him by surprise a bit.

"I honestly shouldn't be as surprised as I am to find you all did something so wonderful. My heart is bursting at the seems with how much I love you, thank you."

Que Tengen taking a moment to greet each of you with a hug and a plethora of kisses.

KYOJURO

You and the lovable Flame Pillar have been together for almost a year at this point, and Kyojuro has been counting down the days to do something special for you but ended up being surprised. Coming home after a surprise rescue mission with none of the gifts he planned to shower you in, he found the hallway leading through the house covered in various flower petals.

The savory smell of your cooking, which he swears is better than anything he has had, fills his senses as he follows the path you so obviously made for him.

Doesn't know what to think when he gets to the other side of the house and sees you set up a little date spot in the garden. You in your favorite yukata, surrounded by candles with that soft smile that just melts him.

Poor man's brain shuts off at the sight of you. He was rooted to the spot in pure awe of your beauty, never noticing how your melodic voice had been calling out for him to join till you walked over to him and waved a hand in front of his face.

The blush on his face when he realized he'd been staring made you giggle. He made up for the silence and oogling by swooping you into his embrace and kissing the crown of your head.

"I must truly be a blessed man... Coming home with nothing to give but my love, yet you welcome me with open arms. My dear Lacuna, you warm my heart more than the strongest fire ever could."

OBANAI

Isn't one for the dramatics or anything regarding the holiday, even after making you his. He wouldn't ever want you to do anything for him.

Similar to Sanemi, he's not fond of dramatics in relationships till he's in one with you. Now all of a sudden he finds himself panicking as he walks home late with nothing but a couple bentos with your favorite foods.

The entire walk to your shared estate consists of him kicking himself over waiting till the last minute and trying to convince himself that you won't be upset. He should have gotten you a plush bear or something.

You're waiting on the engawa before he even enters the estate grounds. You are dressed in a yukata to match his Haori, which he blushes profusely over but will never admit, and you hold what looks like a journal and a single red rose in your hands.

When he finally gets up to you, he's panicking, but nonetheless calms down when you greet him with open arms. Suddenly he's questioning why you would have been upset with him.

He does that adorable head tilt as you explain how you know he thought the holiday was stupid, but you still wanted to do something for him. Que handing him the journal and the rose, telling him that for the past few months, you've been writing letters about your daily life while he's away accompanied by small poems just for him.

Yeah, that blush has him feeling completely flustered now. You both eat the bentos on the engawa together as he reads the journal.

"My Lacuna, the love you continue to devote to me is truly special. I hope you know you are truly my everything, even when I don't say it."

MITSURI

Is much like both Kyojuro and Tengen. She's been counting down the days to plan something rather extravagant for you. But sometimes, the simple things mean so much more

Everything however seemed to be going wrong in every possible way. Not only did she burn the food she was trying to make for you ahead of the date she planned, she got called out to a mission the day of.

Now she's walking home late, wrapped up with nothing but herself to give you. Not that you would complain...

When you answer the knocks at the door, you find your girlfriend on the brink of tears. She doesn't even notice you dressed up in a silk Kimono, instead, she flings herself into your arms apologizing.

After a few moments of you comforting her, she finally takes a look down the hallway and into the main room when candles are lit.

Que surprised face when you tell her you had heard about the surprise mission and wanted to give her a good meal and warm bed to come home to. Now she's crying again and spinning you around out of pure joy as she tells you she'll make breakfast for you in the morning and spoil you.

"Lacuna, my love! I can never express how much I truly adore you! But I will try my best to shower you with it~"

SHINOBU

Isn't one for holidays, but was planning on doing something small for you. However, she ended up too busy to go through with it and was rather bummed.

An influx of slayers needing patching up plus a whole solo mission on the edge of her district took up the majority of the day and night for her. She was practically stomping her way up the path to the separate house you two share but was shocked to find you opening the door for her with a cup of warm tea held out.

Telling her that her crow informed you of the chaos and that it was alright. After taking the tea from you, you lead her down the hallways to the large private bathroom where you set up a whole ass spa just for her. To top it off, you said you bought her a new Kimono with Sakura blossoms embroidered on it to match the one you had on. Now her cheeks feel warm

She embraces you with the first genuine smile she's had all day.

"No matter the chaos of the day, there is nothing more that I enjoy than coming home to you. Well, besides your love, my dear Lacuna~"

GIYUU

Never really paid much attention to the holiday in the first place. So it ended up sneaking up on him and now he's panicking.

Spent most of the day training at his estate while you were out. Only remembered the holiday when he went to Kocho's that afternoon to do something.

However, it gave you ample time to set up your surprise for him.

Giyuu unfortunately didn't give you a whole lot of time before he came back, BUT you were able to set up the main room for a cuddle space.

Came in as you were setting up the snack stash and ended up staring at you as you rearranged the literal mountain of blankets and pillows to your liking.

Got spooked by you squealing as you turned around to him staring. Spent the next few minutes mentally banging his head on the wall because he should have said something.

Was genuinely surprised to hear that you had planned spending the night cuddling him and showering him with affection. Was also surprised when you brushed off the fact that he didn't have anything for you. He thought you'd be upset, but was shocked to hear that it wasn't required to gift you something, that all you wanted was him as himself.

"There's very little I could do to properly show how grateful I am to have you in my life, my Lacuna... Trust when I say you are a blessing to me."

SANEMI

Similar to both Giyuu and Obanai, he doesn't care for the holiday until it hits him smack dab in the face and now he's panicking trying to figure out what to do for you.

You were well aware of his dislike for the holiday but still wanted to do something to show your appreciation for the man. For the month leading up to the holiday you'd been sneaking small purchases and hiding them away in your shared home.

He had a feeling you were up to something but never could find anything out of the ordinary.

After a rather disappointing meeting with a few of the Hashira to discuss recent demon activity, he came home socially exhausted.

You met him at the door with a gift basket. Its contents are hidden by colored paper with a note attached. His name is written by your hand on it surrounded by various colored hearts.

Didn't know how to react when you practically shoved it in his hands. After a few minutes of convincing, you got him to read the small letter.

Big, bad, buff Sanemi Shinazugawa was on the verge of tears as he read the heartfelt confession you made him explaining all the things you loved about it. Did in fact shed a tear when you said you couldn't put everything on it that you wanted to say.

Opening the gift he found various homemade sweets, including Ohagi.

"My dove, you continue to shower me with love even when I feel undeserving of it. There is nothing in this world that I wouldn't do for you~"

You still managed to surprise him with matching Kimono's the next morning that he begrudgingly wore just for you.

Credits to @cafekitsune for the dividers used in this post. They are wonderful, go show them some love!!!

[reneesbooks]

lacuna last line tag

i could not resist the alliteration. thank you to @zmwrites for tagging me! here is Keelan attending his first royal ball as a knight and being Very Normal about it

He is one of the first into the ballroom and ends up hovering awkwardly by the table covered in little snacks. He feels ridiculous and out of place, checking over his shoulder every few seconds to see if Maura has arrived yet. It's not necessary to look—they'll announce her and the rest of the royal family—but there is still that nagging feeling to look for her, to try to catch her eye before anybody else does, to make sure that the first face she sees when she enters the ballroom is one of a friend.

open tag! show off those beautiful wips <3

[eoieopda]

lacuna (knj)

lacuna (n): a blank space, a missing part

In his twenty-eight years, Kim Namjoon had made countless mistakes. Most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. The worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night.

Loving you, losing you, and now – picking up the phone. 

Pairing: Ex!Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot (Angst, Smut - 18+ or else.) Word Count: Like, 7K (?!) Content: ex-boyfriend au; exes to something?; literally so much angst; yearning; pov switches; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected sex; p in v penetration; cursing; texts from Yoongi. A/N: For reasons unknown, I decided to break my own heart today! The lyrics you'll see below are from "Sooner" by The Low Blow. There's also a reference to one of my favorite tv shows at the end - did you catch it? (1/9/23) The sequel, Redamancy, is finally here! (3/17/23) There is now a playlist 🥲

Sitting cross-legged on the rug, your weary, unfocused eyes stared somewhere in the vicinity of Min Yoongi. Shrouded all in black, you nearly assumed he was your sleep paralysis demon, hunched over his keyboard with his eyes narrowed in thought – but you hadn’t slept much at all lately. Not with your deadline looming overhead like the sword of Damocles. 

He relayed what was already looping through your brain. “It’s missing something.” 

You scrubbed your hands over your face, too burnt out to care if your foundation stayed where it was supposed to. “I know,” was all you said, though it wasn’t all you were thinking. Listening to this demo – this crushing song about love lost – you knew what was missing.

Or rather, who. 

Once again reading your mind, Yoongi spoke with a wary sigh. This time, he said the quiet part out loud. “Listen, I know that on a personal level, this is a terrible idea. But if you really want this track to ache –” 

“I’ll call him.” 

Yoongi turned to look at you over his shoulder. He, like you, hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; but his surprise still managed to crack through an otherwise impassive expression.

“You sure you want to be the one?” His frown was microscopic, but it was there and it bruised. “I have to hit him up, anyway, so I can handle this for you.” 

You’d never told him – or any of your friends, come to think of it – the details of your whatever it was with Namjoon. You couldn’t call it a breakup; that would necessitate a relationship. You couldn’t comfortably assign that word to this indescribable something.

But maybe that’s precisely why it hurt to breathe when you thought too hard about it. Maybe the thing that burned in your lungs was the fact that whatever it was wasn’t much of anything at all. 

The universally known narrative was that you met Kim Namjoon at a release party two years prior. After years of putting out extended plays, he was dropping his highly anticipated, full-length masterpiece.

That’s what your label called it; that’s what the press called it; but you couldn’t agree. That word wasn’t heavy enough – it didn’t give due credit to the pieces of himself he broke down and buried within those twelve tracks. You felt seen when you heard it. When you saw him, it was game over. 

As the story goes, you went home with him that night. While true, it was the tiniest fragment sitting sharp at the tip of an iceberg. The rest was an ill-equipped ship, sailing in slow-motion through the dark. 

He'd spent the entirety of his celebration focused on you. What you thought; what you wanted for yourself; what made that tipsy, uninhibited giggle come flying out of your chest. And then, holding his hand like it’d been tailor-made for yours, you followed his lead out of there while confused partygoers murmured in your wake. 

He fucked you like he knew you – on a cellular level – and he looked at you like you were all there was. You’d spent the entirety of the following day there, draped over him or nestled underneath him. You were never not touching in some way – in the little interludes of sleep; while cooking a breakfast too big for the two of you alone; on every surface of his apartment. 

He changed your life in those twenty-four hours, but not enough for it to stick. 

You’d spent as much time with him as you could in the year afterward, until your twin ambitions sent you both rocketing in other directions. Your various obligations never allowed you to be in the same place for long; and when they did, it was over too soon. No amount of time would ever feel like enough, but half a day, here and there, felt like a cosmic joke.

Like the universe was punishing you for wanting everything, all at once. 

Eventually, you came to a fork in the road. His career, though international, was rooted in Korea – home. Yours took you to Los Angeles, to a vastly different time zone, and a schedule that refused to make space. And you tried, but when it came down to choosing – idling together or racing forward alone – your respective dreams were so heavy that they tipped the scales.  

Neither of you could blame the other. After all, you’d both made the same decision. There was some small comfort in knowing that he understood you. That consolation couldn’t keep you warm at night when you’d instinctively reach out and find half of your bed still empty.

It would’ve been so much easier to live without him if there was some horrible betrayal to pin it all on, but he was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him. 

Shaky legs pushed you off the ground. Without meaning to, you groaned as your body returned to its regularly scheduled programming. Yoongi simply muttered, “Same,” as he made additional adjustments in his editing software.

You affectionally touched your knuckles to his shoulder as you passed by, though you quickly realized this gesture wasn’t made to comfort him. 

You shut the door softly behind you and headed up the hallway. Having kicked off and subsequently lost your shoes several hours ago, you padded in socked feet across the hardwood. The pattern – the various evolutions of Eevee – clashed so blatantly with the extravagance around you. Glancing down, you chuckled. At least some parts of you were still recognizable. 

The door to the stairwell creaked as you pushed it open and ducked inside. No longer camped out in the soundproof studio, you could hear the smattering of raindrops as they pummeled the exterior walls of the building. Somewhere between a drum roll and machine gun fire, you couldn’t figure out if the noise emphasized or relieved your anxiety. 

Gently, you lowered yourself down on a step halfway up the flight. As you stared down at your phone, your knee bounced of its own volition.

For once, you were thankful for the seventeen-hour time difference. This was the kind of call you needed to make at midnight, but one you didn’t want him receiving at midnight. It felt so much safer in daylight.

At least one of you had eyes on the sun. 

You’d deleted his number from your phone months ago because you thought it might help you let go. It didn’t. And to make matters worse, you still knew it by heart. As you typed it out easily, you wished this realization surprised you. You also wished that you’d catch him at a bad time, so you could simply leave a message. 

You’d never been lucky, though, had you?

Namjoon was half-asleep at a café table when the vibration of his phone against the wrought metal snapped him out of it. In his under-caffeinated daze, he couldn’t determine what that unbearable grinding noise was.

He could, however, see the way the elderly woman nearby was scowling at him. He furrowed his brows and blinked back at her; silently asking what the fuck her problem was. Just as silently, she pointed an angry, wrinkled finger to his tabletop. 

By the time his brain kicked into gear, he was too late. He picked up his now-quiet phone and nearly dropped it in an instant when he saw your name tied to a missed call.

He didn’t think twice before returning it – he should have – having figured there was only one way to know if he was truly hallucinating. You picked up immediately in a voice so you that he couldn’t have imagined it. He knew because he'd already tried.

“Hey.” 

People who didn’t know you often mistook the natural rasp of your voice for tiredness, but he did know you. You were beyond exhausted, more so than the last time he’d heard from you. Five months and twenty-one days ago.

This sounded like another all-nighter; like you got so consumed in creating that you couldn’t sleep until you finished. Remembering you like this opened a black hole in his chest – all this fondness with nowhere to go, collapsing in on itself, pulling.

What kind of masochist was he, voluntarily subjecting himself to this conversation? 

“Hey,” He croaked. Even his voice didn't know what to do. 

He heard shuffling on your end. You always pinned your phone between your right ear and shoulder to start — he immediately recognized the sound of your hair against the receiver when you switched it to your left side. Vanilla and honey flooded his nose despite the thousands of miles that separated him from the scent of your shampoo. 

There were a thousand questions spinning dizzy in his mind, but he couldn’t untangle them to spit one out. The longer you both remained quiet, the worse it got – and the worse he felt for his silence. Even without seeing you, he knew that your brows were knitting together. He knew that quiet made you feel too exposed. 

Namjoon cleared his throat to speak at the same moment you asked, “How are you?” His words echoed, a half-second from being uttered in unison. 

He prayed to any god that he’d stop feeling so nervous. There was no reason to be, not with you. You were his comfort zone, his safe space and – oh. Past tense.

Presently, you were – what, exactly? Could he call you an “ex” if you’d never had a title? It all felt too juvenile, hearing people whisper about his girlfriend. You were –fuck – You were home, and now his house was haunted.

A ghost. 

“I’ve been good,” he said quickly, planting a hollow smile on his face that wouldn’t have convinced you if you were there. Liar, liar, liar. “Busy. You sound –” 

“Awful?”

“– like you’ve been working all night.” 

He heard a sheepish chuckle and his clumsy, thudding heart went flying off into the void.

“That’s actually why I’m calling,” you admitted in a voice so tiny he nearly missed it, “And I wouldn’t be – I promise – if I could’ve bothered anyone else with this. This one, though… when I hear it in my head, I can’t imagine anyone –” 

“Say less.” 

It slipped out of him automatically. He couldn’t stop it. Now it was dangling there in dead air where he couldn’t reach it and shove it back down his throat. He must have said that to you a thousand times, giving you whatever you needed before you could even finish asking.

This was the first time he’d ever said it without punctuating it with a kiss to your forehead, though. And now, his equilibrium was off, like the staircase had one less step than he was expecting. 

When you finally broke the silence, he could’ve sworn he heard you sniffle, but he quickly kicked that thought back into the cage it escaped from. Your voice didn’t sound sad at all, so you couldn’t have been crying. Why would you be?

“I can have Yoongi send you what we have so far, lyrics too. If you’re interested, just let me know – verse, bridge, whatever you want.” 

“You’re with Yoongi?” 

It came out exactly as he hadn't intended – accusatory. It was no business of his who you spent time with, professionally or otherwise. And it didn’t even surprise him that Yoongi would stick around after the – whatever it was. All your shared friends stayed shared. His confusion was solely that Yoongi never mentioned working with you, let alone flying stateside to do so. 

Why hadn’t Yoongi said something? Did he assume Namjoon wouldn’t be interested in hearing about your project? Because he would - he kept up with all of your releases, even if it hurt. Was he scared that the mere mention of you would exacerbate the tailspin Namjoon was barely surviving?

Or was it something else? 

“Yeah, he got here a few days ago. I offered to send the vocals to him, but he said he wanted In-N-Out,” Your laugh, even under the weight of your sleepiness, still packed a punch. “Might be the longest trip anyone’s ever made for animal-style fries.” 

Namjoon felt like he was going to pass out, but for your sake, he tried to echo your laugh. “Sounds like he’s got his priorities in order, as usual.” 

That uncomfortable silence crawled back in and settled in the space between you. It never used to be like this. His mouth remained open as if his broken brain could think of a single thing to say. There were hours in every second that passed, but he didn’t hang up – and neither did you. 

“So, if I figure something out, I can shoot it back over –” 

You interrupted this time.

“No need,” You chirped. You must’ve sensed that his train of thought now consisted only of question marks because you dove right back in, “I’ll be in Seoul at the end of the month, so we can put all the pieces together then.” 

Please be speaking metaphorically. Please say – 

“I’ve gotta hop off now, but it was –” Your voice petered out at the end of your statement, and he didn’t know what to do within the pause.

What pleasantry would you settle on to end this conversation? Was it nice to hear from him, or did you also feel like you’d walked through the emotional equivalent of a car wash?  

It was heavy when you exhaled the amendment, hitting the ground with a thud that could’ve knocked him over.

It was torture, and it drop-kicked him into the abyss at full-speed. No light above, no hope below. A black hole that he kept selfishly refusing to close – all because he answered your call. 

“Thank you, Joonie.” 

Fuck. He was doomed.

You spent a shocking percentage of your life on international flights. It was a privilege – you knew it – to travel to the extent that you did, but it was so lonely.

If you were flying, there were two justifications. The first was the most common – touring. You’d touch down in cities all over the world, stay for a few hours, and then you’d leave again as soon as you could blink.

Your interactions were limited, either one-sided conversations from a stage; or facilitated entirely by a local translator. Never truly connecting, missed phone calls and texts sent too late to get a response. The same stale conversations with the crew that had been stuck with you for months. 

The second was less common, and somehow even lonelier – visiting a home that was no longer yours. 

It always went the same way. You’d touch down at the Incheon International Airport in your home country and feel just as foreign as the tourists bustling around you. You’d gather a suitcase’s worth of belongings and try not to think about the fact that they – and everything else you owned – once lived there, too. You’d hit customs and then, as a reward, snag yourself some boba from the café on your way out the door. 

In all those trips, you’d never once hailed a cab because Namjoon was always waiting. You’d hear him before you saw him with how loud he kept his car’s stereo, but when you did finally lay eyes on him, you’d light up like a sparkler. He’d shower you with affection – publicly, despite his usually private nature – and swap out the luggage in your hands for some thoughtful surprise. Flowers, usually, after painstaking deliberation over the meaning he wanted to convey. 

Now, you stood on the sidewalk with your empty hand in the air. 

Shortly after settling into your cab, you fell asleep. The person who would have gently scolded you for taking this risk wasn’t there to do so. Instead, you woke up stiff and disoriented to the sound of your driver honking his horn. You quickly learned that he wasn’t honking at traffic; he was honking at you with a scowl on his face. 

“Time to go! Wake up – your stop!” 

He was speaking in English, so it took you a few moments to determine whether you were dreaming. Impatient, he honked again.

Did he think you were a tourist? Was he right?

Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you threw the door open and hurled yourself out. You ran to the trunk, snatched your suitcase, and tried not to remember that you didn't used to have to do this part yourself.

Yoongi had the foresight to give you a spare keycard before leaving California, so you were able to get into his building quickly – before you were honked at again. Spoken to in English again, like this place had never been home.

You, belonging nowhere and to no one, kept yourself together until the elevator doors gave you some semblance of shelter. 

Alone, alone, alone, you cried so hard that your shoulders shook. The mirrored walls around you showed infinite versions of you, all pitiful like you were still that little girl who’d gotten separated from her parents at an amusement park. It was incredible how you felt smaller in that elevator than you did as a child.

And fuck, did that embarrassment make you cry even harder. 

Eventually, those doors would have to re-open, and you’d have to let yourself into Yoongi’s unoccupied penthouse just to wait for his return. You were so sick of walking into empty apartments and hearing nothing but your own footsteps. No warmth, no laughter, just a black hole of your own creation. 

You chose this, you reminded yourself. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You were so busy chasing broader horizons, you didn't notice that the sun had disappeared. If you’d known – really, truly known – what the fall would be like, would you have taken that leap of faith? No, you think, but you did and there’s no jumping back into the airplane once you’ve dived out of it.

Ding. 

There was a post-it note waiting for you on the inside of Yoongi’s door that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t taken so much time to shut it behind you. His handwriting was shockingly neat for someone who was always in a rush. His note told you that he’d be home in two hours, that there was food for you in the refrigerator, and that you should help yourself to whatever you needed. 

The sinkhole in your stomach wasn’t created by hunger, so you pushed that down to the bottom of your to-do list and dragged your luggage to the guest bedroom down the hall.

Every inch of his place was undeniably Yoongi – monochromatic and edgy, but still so confusingly inviting. His guest room was similar in style, but with more personalized touches than most visitors tended to expect. Framed photos of friends, and the collaborators he was most proud to work with.

Your eyes eventually found one of you, beaming brightly. 

It hurt to look, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. It was taken in a photobooth at Kim Seokjin’s wedding last spring. You were sandwiched on a small bench seat between Yoongi and Namjoon.

The former, like you, was captured in the middle of a laugh - smiling at the camera with all teeth, eyes crinkled at the edges but still sparkling. The latter wasn’t looking at the camera at all – just you, like you were all there was. 

Forcing yourself to look away, you returned the frame to its place on the vanity and kept moving. Your primary instinct was to hurl yourself into the plush bed and never leave it. But you felt stale after spending so much time traveling, and you didn’t want to collapse into those beautiful sheets until you’d scrubbed the day off you. 

Shuffling off to the bathroom, you finally remembered to take your phone off ‘airplane mode.’ All at once, the floodgates opened. The onslaught of texts, emails, and voicemails was so overwhelming that your phone froze.

When the flurry stopped, you scanned through your various inboxes for anything that might require an immediate response. Finding nothing urgent, you were about to set your phone down when you saw an email from Namjoon, addressing both you and Yoongi.

His verse, you realized as you opened it. 

I think I lost you sooner than I wanted to  And I know you can't say the same  But I can't hate you for doing what you've gotta do  Cause I'm just in bed sleeping through the pain  Do you see wasted potential when you look at me?  Of what we could be if it wasn't like this  I know you asked me not to try and change myself  But when I was with you, I felt fixed 

It took everything you had not to drop to your knees.

Namjoon was an incredible liar.

He didn’t utilize the skill often – in fact, he was usually too honest – but when he did, he could get himself out of any unwanted scenario.

In the distant past, he’d slip out of obligations made by his label to stay home in bed with you. It worked every single time. Instead of putting on some over-priced suit, wasting his breath swapping empty pleasantries with industry tools; he’d be hooking his arms around your quivering thighs, pinning you to his face as he fucked you with his tongue. 

In the present, he lied again. 

Yoongi asked, “How did it feel to hear from her again?” 

“To be honest,” Namjoon started, knowing full well that nothing he said next would be, “That shit’s behind me, man. I was surprised her number was still in my contacts, you know? She’s been a non-factor for a minute.” 

Yoongi rolled his eyes, “With the number of girls you’ve gone through in the meantime, I imagine it gets hard to keep track.” 

Hook, line, sinker. 

Namjoon offered a smirk and a shrug in response, which Yoongi accepted without further comment. The relief of being believed did nothing to cure the nausea swirling in Namjoon’s stomach, though - not just for the cruelty of his lie, but for the way he’d acted since you left and stayed gone.  

He learned early on that it would take more than fucking someone he didn't know to keep warm, but knowing better didn’t mean he did better. None of them – and there were many – could pull him from the limbo he found himself in without you. There was an emptiness gnawing at his insides that he couldn’t fill, and the more he tried, the more it tore at him.

The only thing he succeeded at was becoming someone he didn’t recognize –someone he didn’t even like. 

Yoongi pulled into his parking garage and turned to Namjoon, staking him through the heart with words alone. “Well, the non-factor is upstairs, so try to remember her name when you see her.” 

Namjoon chuckled, but it didn’t sound anywhere close to convincing. There was a flicker of doubt in Yoongi’s quickly flexed eyebrow, though he kept any questions he may have had to himself. Without a word, they clambered out of the car, and they stayed quiet until they stepped into the elevator. 

“How has she been?” Namjoon asked more quietly than he meant to. Like someone who’s scared of the answer - or worse, being asked why he’s asking. Quickly diverting further inquiry, he provided clarification Yoongi hadn’t sought. “Sounded tired as fuck on the phone.” 

Yoongi glanced at Namjoon before selecting the button marked with his floor number. “You know how she is,” He hummed. 

That one hurt. He knew how you were – past tense.

Except for that one phone call, he hadn’t heard your voice in months. He hadn’t seen you for even longer than that. Your number hadn’t changed, but for all he knew, everything else could have. All he had now was his memory’s pale imitation of you, always in sight but never within reach.

A ghost that disappeared into the walls before he could get too close. 

When the elevator door opened, Namjoon was fighting between running forward and running away. Incapable of doing either, it was Yoongi’s light punch on his bicep that prompted his feet to move. Namjoon trudged along after him until Yoongi stopped short with a groan. 

“The fuck?” Namjoon coughed as he collided with Yoongi’s back. “Don’t tell me you’re already winded, dude. I’m not giving your old ass a piggy-back ride.” 

The scowl he received could’ve scorched the Earth.  

“I forgot my fucking phone in the car.” Yoongi tossed his apartment key at Namjoon. It thudded against his unsuspecting chest only to be caught on the rebound.

Then, Yoongi pointed at the door. “Go play nice and figure out where we’re getting take-out from. I had a dream about bulgogi last night that was borderline sexual, so keep that in mind.” 

Namjoon’s face scrunched up. “I’ll be trying my best to keep it out, so thanks for that.”  

Yoongi had already turned around, waving a dismissive hand as he stalked off. 

As soon as Namjoon heard the elevator doors close, his phone chirped in his pocket and caught him off guard. He glanced down to find a text from Yoongi – who was, apparently, also a liar. 

Yoongi [18:19 PM]: fyi you always say “to be honest” when you’re about to say some bullshit Yoongi [18:19 PM]: "non-factor" my asssssss

Namjoon grimaced and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking to Yoongi’s door with his heart in his throat.

Clearly, Yoongi wanted Najmoon to fix things with you. He’d crafted some false narrative to get himself out of there, to give Namjoon the time and space to do it. But there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could say to rebuild the bridge you’d both demolished together.

That is, if you even wanted him to try.

After unlocking the door, he froze. A full minute passed before his hand received his brain’s signal to turn the knob, and even then, his feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. If hearing your voice made him spiral, he was terrified of what the sight of you might do.

More than anything, he was scared to see how you looked at him – and he didn’t know what reaction he wanted. If you lit up the way you used to, it might kill him. If you had no reaction at all, it would definitely kill him. 

He would’ve stalled at that threshold all night if you didn’t appear in the hallway, straight ahead. You froze like a deer in headlights, one hand still on the door you’d exited from. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise.

He didn’t notice the red rims around your eyes right away, but once he did, every cell in his body screamed at him to run to you, to hold you.

But he didn’t.

Touching you now only to lose you again tomorrow - well, that was a scab he couldn’t rip off again. There was only scar tissue where his heart used to be.

“Hey,” You smiled so sweetly when you saw him, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Those fucking eyes! He’d give up everything he had to erase the sadness swimming behind them, threatening to spill out. 

Why were you still so far away?

You glanced around him, noting Yoongi’s absence, but didn’t ask where he was. “I was thinking we could get something from that –” 

The longer he stared at you, the more impossible it became to keep his distance. He couldn’t stand on that doorstep with you over there, trying so hard to look like you hadn’t been crying – like you weren’t about to start again. 

Fuck it.

If he was so dead-set on re-breaking his own heart, he’d do it with you in his arms.

“Joonie, is everything oka–” 

No, nothing was. Nothing had been, not for – fuck, are his eyes getting misty? - a long time. Not since you walked out of his apartment for the last time, and he let you. He couldn’t make any of it okay, but with you there now, he didn’t give a fuck about where you were before. 

Your eyes were as big as the moon when he finally reached you, blinking your surprise up at him.

Did you really think he had any other option than to hold you? Did you have any idea how you looking at him like this - bare-faced, freshly-showered, vulnerable - demanded his immediate affection?

It felt like coming home, sliding his fingers through your still-damp hair. He could’ve fallen to pieces when the familiar scent of your shampoo – vanilla and honey – crashed over him, but he didn’t. His lips collided with yours, and for the first time in a fucking year, he felt whole.

You clung to him so desperately, you could’ve ripped a hole in his shirt. You couldn't care about that, though, because he kissed you and it was pure starlight. He kissed you hard, nicking your lip between his teeth until you opened your mouth against his.

You whimpered into him, drunk on the wet heat of his mouth, melting and falling and spinning and flying. You felt it all fall to the wayside, every second wasted without him, every text you didn’t send, every wrong turn that led you so far away. 

You didn't realize until you finally broke apart that the tears on your cheek weren’t exclusively yours. His gaze locked with yours, and all either of you could do was gasp for air - chests heaving, lips kissed swollen. If not for the arm around your back, pinning you against his chest, you would’ve floated away. But he had you, completely.  

Finally, you felt tethered. 

Your trembling hand settled on the side of his face. Fuck! That face. The warmth of his skin, the heights of his cheek bones, the gentle slope of his nose.

How many mornings did you wake up and miss it? How did you ever fall asleep without it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, without the whisper of warm breath on your skin?

You wanted to scream until the hurt left your chest, but you didn’t dare – not with that face so perfectly close to yours.  

He spoke first, “I’m so –” 

Your eyes followed your thumb as it swiped over his bottom lip, unearthing a quiver that burned you up inside. He was paralyzed by your touch. Enraptured. Leaving that clause hanging open in the air.

His eyes were wide with anticipation as he watched you, pupils dilating when you whispered. “Say less.” 

Faster than you could process, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. Automatically, your legs locked behind his back; your lips re-captured his and his kiss never faltered as he carried you back into the guest room. Quickly and with a shocking display of control, he kicked the door closed without slamming it – or breaking it. 

Like so many times before, he laid you gently onto the mattress as if you were crafted from porcelain. And when he finally pulled away from you, you gazed up at him in awe.

This was one of the million reasons you couldn’t seem to let him go – the way his eyes softened when you were breathless underneath him, like you were the only thing in the universe worth looking at.

There were too many things to be said that neither of you could verbalize. You felt them all falling down around you like confetti, loose ends to be tied up later. He didn’t need to say a thing, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 

When his fingers landed at the hem of your shirt, you knew what came next. A dance you’d done a thousand times, you lifted your arms for him to pull it up and off. Still damp from your shower, the ends of your hair raised goosebumps as they chilled the bare skin of your back.  

He moved slowly and without breaking eye contact as he unbuttoned your jeans. Your zipper followed, then your jeans and underwear in tandem. The denim dragged so deliciously against your thighs as he slipped them down, down, down. As he tugged them off your ankles, you discarded your bra and tossed it aside. You were entirely bare and shivering with anticipation when his gaze found you again.

His shirt soon joined yours on the floor. Kneeling between your legs, his bare chest burned against your own as he kissed you for the third time. So many more were needed to make up for lost time, but you could feel how much of himself he poured into the kisses he’d credited you with so far. The taste of his mouth on yours was indescribably intoxicating after so much time apart. 

With you sufficiently distracted, the hands that cupped your face began to migrate. You felt so small under his touch, reduced to putty in the warm expanse of his palms. His face lowered too, freeing your mouth to moan as he placed open-mouthed kisses down the length of your neck.

Involuntarily, you gasped when his fingers pinched at one of your nipples. The curve of his smile impressed upon your throat as he suckled at the sensitive skin he found there, leaving clouds of indigo behind. 

As he marked you, he rolled and tweaked your nipples in turn. Your eyes fluttered shut and you keened while your head crashed back against the pillows, “That mouth – feels s-so fucking good.” Your fingers carded through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp; his silence broke with a shuddered moan. 

“S’all I want, baby,” He hummed as his lips trailed down from your neck and beyond your collarbone. “To make you feel good.”  

You were trembling when he claimed one of your nipples with his mouth. Then he had the audacity to look up at you from under his lashes when he released it with a lewd pop, causing your back to arch against his chest with a gasp. There was a rumble from deep within him when your grip on his hair tightened, and the sound alone made you gush. 

“To taste you,” His tongue left a wet stripe above your navel as he continued his descent, large hands dipping beneath you to squeeze the doughy flesh of your ass. Shit - you would simply never recover from this. “To devour you until you melt in my mouth.” 

Another sharp tug at his hair, another guttural moan breaking free from your chest.

How often had you dreamed of this in your time apart? How many times did you try to remember how it felt when that timbre whispered sins against your naked body? Fuck. With those words alone, he had you on the brink. 

You whined when he pulled away from you; but it quickly turned into a gasp when he hooked his arms around your thighs and dragged you with him towards the end of the bed. Now kneeling on the floor, he ducked below your knees until they rested over the tops of his shoulders. 

Face so near to your aching core, he growled, and you felt it. “I missed this pussy –” He placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, prompting you to clench them reflexively. “I missed the way your thighs squeeze around me while you fuck yourself against my tongue.” 

Shivering, slack-jawed, and stupid, you grabbed fistfuls of the comforter below you. He was so painfully close to your cunt and still so fucking far from you. You knew he could see how badly you craved him - you’d beg for his mouth if you had to. 

Of course, you didn’t have to - you never did.

Seconds before your impatience could drive you fully insane, he was on you, tongue flat against your cunt, dragging up against your slit. When the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit, you cried out with a buck of your hips. His grip on you tightened, pinning you flush against him as he teased you. 

“That it’s, baby. Good girl.” 

It’s a miracle either one of you could form words with how relentlessly he licked, nipped, and suckled on your throbbing cunt. All you could do was babble in response to his praise – until the tip of his tongue penetrated your weeping hole, and you screamed. 

A flurry of curse words spilled from your lips; his name sprinkled in between the obscenities. Fuck, you needed more. More, more, more. You extended your arm and reclaimed your grasp on his locks. Once you did, you began to grind yourself against his tongue until your abdominal muscles burned - you hadn’t utilized them to this extent since the last time.

His hand squeezed your thigh, goading you, encouraging you to use him the way you needed to. The pressure of his tongue increased with your pace. You had no control over the sounds you made; the breathless moans escaped you before you could think of trapping them. The coil was tightening, burning red-hot in the pit of your belly. 

So good, so good, so g – 

“Fuck!” 

One by one, your muscles tensed in quick succession until your body shook violently in his grip. Toes curling, back arching, head crashing backwards into the pillows, mewling. 

When you finally gathered the strength to re-open your bleary eyes, there were spots dotting the edges of your vision – and then there was Namjoon, fuck-drunk between your weakened knees, with a mixture of his saliva and your orgasm shining on his chin. 

Lustful eyes locked squarely on your flushed face; his tongue slid from between his swollen lips to attend to the mess you’d made of him. His panting rivaled yours, but unlike you, he was still capable of speech.

“I will never – ever – get tired of watching you come,” he sighed before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” 

As he climbed back on top of you, he placed a chaste kiss on your sweaty forehead. “So vulnerable –” Then the tip of your nose. “So vocal –” Then, too briefly, your lips. “Perfect.” 

“Joon,” You murmured against his lips. His mouth curved into a smile at the nickname, which you used almost exclusively to win arguments, or to persuade him to do something. It worked every time. 

He nudged your nose with the tip of his as he tried to conceal his laugh. “Baby?” 

The fond look in his eyes was quickly covered by fluttering eyelids as your fingertips whispered down over his chest. They snapped open and bored into you as your fingers slid over the waistband of his joggers, tracing a feather-light trail over the bulge below. You felt his cock twitch autonomously against the warmth of your palm. 

“Shit,” He hissed through gritted teeth as you squeezed him. Eyes drifting shut once again; he rolled his hips to exacerbate the friction. His neck tensed, head thrown back, when you finally dipped under the elastic and took him into your hand. Skin to skin, burning up.

The next moan from his fawning mouth was something you hadn’t heard in his voice for months – your name. “I need you. Now.” 

In the few moments he pulled away to remove his pants, a chill crept in and settled where the weight of his body had just been.

There it is again, you thought, the feeling of having him and losing him.

When this night was over and he was gone from you, would he stay that way? Should you have gone this far, knowing nothing would be different in the daylight? 

You were blinking fast when he reclaimed the space above you. Something flickered in his eye as he assessed the look on your face, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you so gently that you could’ve imagined it – but so completely that your brain could never have fabricated it. Not successfully, anyway.

You’d already tried. 

Breaking apart once more, he reached down and stroked himself slowly. His eyes never left yours. You both held your breath as he slid into you, millimeter by millimeter, reminding your body – after all this time – how to take him. All of him, to the hilt, until you could finally exhale.

Stretched to accommodate his width, so fucking full, you saw a way out of the nothing that had you trapped like quicksand. It was him, always. Your safe haven.

Neither of you could speak once he began rolling his hips against you. The quiet was electrified by heavy breaths and whimpers. The wet heat of your cunt squelched as your walls enveloped him, just as unwilling to let him go as the rest of you.

Over and over, he grinded into you, dragging his length across your most sensitive places; hips swiveling slightly to the side as he pushed and pulled himself through you, the way he knew you liked it. 

Open mouth beside his ear, you keened and sighed, wordlessly informing him that you wouldn’t last much longer. He was perfectly attuned to your subconscious movements, and he responded to each of them without hesitation.

He’d never need to be reminded that the fingernails digging into his biceps meant faster, and the upward tilt of your jaw meant deeper. That when your eyebrows rose above your closed lids, you were seconds away from your release. 

He remembered exactly how to fuck you through your orgasm when it came – shallow, staccato thrusts that unraveled you further as you writhed against the sheets. The spot on your neck to nip at like some secret switch, praise dripping hot in your ear like honey.

“Such a good girl, squeezing me like this,” He panted, “Taking me so well – so fucking perfect for me, angel.” 

As soon as you crashed down through the atmosphere, his movements threatened to ricochet you right back into space. You keened helplessly with your half-numbed fingers gripping any part of him where they could find purchase.

“I c-can't stop -” You mewled, “How am I s-still c-coming?” 

His response didn’t come in the form of words. His lips collided with yours hard enough to clink teeth as he drove himself deeper and deeper and deeper. Sloppy, kiss-bitten lips laying claim; relentless in their mutual need for closeness. Your walls were still fluttering around him – was this your second orgasm or your third? - when he moaned into your mouth.

Every part of him tensed above, around, and inside you as the flood of his release filled every crevice of your cunt. 

Breathing ragged, his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. Considerate as ever, he tried so hard to keep his full weight off you, but his exhaustion undermined his efforts. You didn’t mind at all – you’d re-build your home there, staying forever between his body and that borrowed bed if you could. 

But you couldn’t, could you? If you felt empty before, how could you feel whole again after this? His name etched itself into your ribcage, and now your body would never re-acclimate to his absence.

Why did you do this to yourself? 

You squeezed your eyes shut tight when you felt tears prickling in their corners.  

Everything you felt for him – over the course of two years – came crashing down over you. You buried your face into his shoulder and tried your best to keep your crying to yourself.

You’d never get his scent off your body now. 

He could sense your shaking; it forced his heavy lids open. 

“I don’t know what to do with it,” you sniffled, silently begging yourself to stop. You felt yourself shrinking under his eye. It would only be a matter of time before you disappeared entirely.

His tone dripped with concern, serving only to deepen that infernal ache in the pit of your stomach. “With what?”  

“All the love I have for you. I don’t –” You sobbed, “I don’t know where to put it now.” 

His breath caught in his throat as if you’d punched him straight in the chest. If you listened hard enough, you might’ve heard his heart break. You could certainly feel it in the way he tensed in your arms.

When he moved off you, you feared the worst – that your incessant crying overflowed the bathtub, and your admission was the toaster thrown recklessly inside. But unlike the last time, he didn’t leave - and neither did you.

The mattress shifted as he claimed the space at your side - where he should have been all this time. Strong arms enveloped you as he turned to face you, and even though he held you, he couldn’t stop you from shattering.

For a while, he let you. Squeezed you hard, stroked your hair the way he used to, let you cry out all the poison that filled the spaces in the cavern of your chest.

And when you could finally breathe again, he kissed your forehead. “I’ll trade you for it.” 

(1/8/23): Check out the sequel, Redamancy, here.

[mirangel]

lacuna.

pairing: naga!baizhu x afab!reader

genre: smut

cw: dubcon, aphrodisiacs, creampie, implied abduction, no pronouns used, one use of whore

word count: 1.1k

you were warned against going into the forest, but a short trip, never turns out to be short.

written by a minor, dni if uncomfortable

The residents of the village had always warned you against going into the forest during springtime. Especially since the once hibernating nagas were looking for their prey, their seedbed to mate with for the rest of the season. However, when a strange dream featuring a beautiful man with cascading, emerald green hair beckons you into the forest. curiosity gets the better of you. Under the guise of collecting flowers for your home, you set off with a promise that you’ll return shortly.

Oh how that never came true after all.

The last thing you could properly remember was a flash of emerald green, followed by a sharp pain to your neck. It hurt momentarily, you quickly turned around, hitting him on the chest, a quiet thump emanating from the man, no, naga behind you. “Who are you?! What did you just do to me?!” You cried, but he just laughs instead, inching closer towards you, purposely making him taller than he seemed. You just looked so cute, so ravishing. He just couldn’t resist.

“Mm? I didn’t do much, only something to help the process go along much more… smoother.” He cocks his head to the side, raising one of his hands to his chin, and the other arm acting as support. “Process? What process?” You backed away, but there were nothing but trees and rocks blocking your path, the only clear exit being blocked off by the naga before you. “Weren’t you warned of entering my territory?” He drawled, and your back hit a tree with a quiet thump. You looked up, and then it got so… hot.

It was so overwhelming, how the world became more distant in the blink of an eye, wearing your clothes became unbearable, sticking to your skin like the summer heat. Your heart quickened by the desperate need for something. But what was that something?

Your mind grew hazy after that, no longer willing to look further past those simple questions. “Darling… you should’ve heeded those words.” A low, baritone chuckle echoed in your head, but it didn't matter. You need dick… his dick! Needed his fat cock to ravage your entire body!

You whine, pawing at the clothes on your body. So lost in pleasure, your eyes rolled back, meeting narrowed, golden ones irises that engraved itself into your own head. Archons… you need him so bad, you already felt wetness between your thighs, rubbing them in an attempt to relieve the ache, but nothing you could do satisfied the need you had. You need more.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.” You were then lifted up by his strong arms, a hand then grabbed at your chin, forcing you to look down at the ground, a puddle below where you stood just a moment ago.

“Look at the mess you’ve made, you’re such a whore.” He chided, sharp nails tapping on your neck with a gentle hum, and then he began slithering away, to a place where you didn’t know, but too worn out to care…

Before you knew it, you’ve been thrown to a rather soft, but uncomfortable bedding. You try standing up but a hand pushes your chest back down, another hand lifting your hips high, ripping off the pants you wore before clean in half. You wiggle your hips, biting your lip in an attempt to stifle your moans. “Pretty little prey, don’t hide your voice.” He’d tsk, spanking your ass with barely enough force to hurt, but the sharp nails used would leave tiny crescent marks for sure.

“Need… need your cock…” You’d whimper, humping the pillow that the naga slides underneath you. He then hums in dissatisfaction, “If you’re gonna beg, call my name…. Baizhu.”

Baizhu… Baizhu! That’s his name! You instinctively call his name, “Baizhu!… Please, touch me. It’s so hot, please make me feel good…” He swipes his finger across your folds, bringing it up to his finger and taking a lick. “You’re so wet, but you taste utterly divine.”

“Darling, I need you. I need all of you.” He slides his way on top of you, rutting himself on your ass. But then he rips off your underwear without a care in the world, tossing them to the far corners of the cave you’re in. “Please…! I don’t want to wait anymore, it’s so hot! Baizhu please, fuck me! I can’t do this anymore!”

Baizhu shoves himself into your tight pussy, one cock rested itself inside you while the other rested right above the curve of your ass. He shuddered, providing only shallow thrusts with a lovesick look in his eyes. “M-My… You feel so heavenly, I can’t let you go now.” You wiggled your ass on his cock, mewling as you grabbed onto the bed sheets below. “More… more! Harder, faster, deeper! I don’t care, I need your fat cock!”

He then bullies his cock further into your hole, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist with an iron grip, pulling out far enough before shoving himself back inside, never failing to coax a loud moan from you. “Nngh!--” A hand sneaks down to your clit, rubbing harsh circles, sending your mind into straight overdrive, your back arching unknowingly.

“That’s right… my good little prey.” He whispers into your ear, nibbling your earlobe, rutting himself further into you. “Archons— I’m gonna cum!” You found it so difficult to hold your voice back, from the increased stimulation, to the burning sensation coursing through your entire body. Your body shivers, pathetic mewling escaping your throat with your eyes rolling back, drool slipping out of your mouth.

Baizhu chuckled, grabbing your chin and capturing your mouth in a kiss, further injecting more of his venom into your system. Your mind swirled with mixed feelings of lust, guilt, and the burning desire for more. “Inside…!” You beg after breaking away, a string of saliva connecting your mouth and his. “Inside— please Baizhu! Cum inside me!” His nails dig deeper into your skin, and Baizhu could only sneer at the sight of your fucked out face, squeezing your cheeks together.

“I don’t need your permission for that. I was going to do it anyway.” He coils his tail around your ankles, emitting a low moan as he buried his head in the crook of your neck, his thrusts becoming shallow and uneven. “Mmm!— I’m going to cum in your tight hole… I’m going to make you bear my children.”

Your mind was in shambles, the desperate need to be filled drowned all your rational senses to break free. When the sharp fangs from the naga behind you punctured your neck, you couldn’t hold yourself back. “Nng— ahh!” Your hole clenched around one of Baizhu’s cocks, a vice grip that couldn’t break him free, not that he ever wanted to. Your body spasmed almost violently, and a low, guttural groan came from behind you, before a burning liquid warmth filled you.

“Archons, there’s no way I can let you go now after this spring. I need you by my side forever.” Baizhu turned your worn body around, placing a cold hand on your stomach with a sly grin.

“You’re mine.”

[shadowgast-recs-weekly]

Fics that feature chronic pain

This week we have 7 fics that include chronic pain, across a wide range of genres. Check them out beneath the cut, and comment or kudos if you like them!

The Fluffy Painkille by thesweetpianowritingdownmylife (6387, General) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes,

Frumpkin secretly visits Essek, Essek discovers Frumpkin's purring helps with his chronic pain.

Reccer says: I liked it!

Lacuna by Sangreal (94811, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: Torture

Essek is captured and tortured by the Dynasty for his crimes, losing his memory and magic. It is a long road to recovery.

Reccer says: I love this fic and honestly it's one of my favorite depictions of Essek with a permanent disability. The story is super engaging too.

Something To Believe In by AwesomeFroggy (108948, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Where Caleb is a librarian, Essek is exiled to Nicodranas, and Jester (as ever) is ready for shenanigans

Reccer says: The thing about self indulgent fics (and this one states that it is one) is that they tend to be written with so much love and comfort that it makes the entire fic better. This is definitely one of them

the handbook of touch by Anonymous (2481, Teen) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Essek has chronic pain. Caleb helps him by massaging his hands

Reccer says: It's hurt/comfort and intimacy and hands - it's great!

Coping Skills by eldritchmochi (251061, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Modern with magic AU, Caleb and Essek are both involved in the local kink scene and meet there, they also know each other from work, smut ensues.

Reccer says: I liked it!

a winter's crest detour by jaskofalltrades (22873, Mature) Reccer's Content Notes: Choose Not to Warn

Essek’s less than anticipated Winter's Crest plans to spend the holidays with his unwanted fiancé get off to a rough start when his flight is rerouted to the middle of nowhere. He winds up trapped with fellow strandee Caleb, who manages to turn Essek’s entire world upside down and might just change Essek’s life for the better.

Reccer says: This is one of my comfort fics. It's like sipping a cup of hot cocoa while it's snowing outside.

Girl, Interrupting by Defiler_Wyrm (1902, Explicit) Reccer's Content Notes: No Content Notes

Jester casts sending at the worst possible time and blows a secret wide open!

Reccer says: It's short, sweet, hot & funny all in one neat little package. The chronic pain part isn't made a huge deal of but it's given space to be important.

This is one of our weekly communally-generated shadowgast rec lists. Every week we announce a new theme and allow anyone to submit a fic recommendation. 

And hey, anyone includes you!

Next week, we'll be featuring dancing! Whether that be ballroom, pole or anything in between

Any fics coming to mind? Well, then use this form to submit!

This week's list was also the 69th unique theme! (nice)