#like i thought i finally found someone to follow

[wchswift]

── fangs and fury

pairing! dean winchester x vampire!reader

summary! a vampire that dean once spared, appears years later as the supposed motive for the new case the brothers are working on.

contents! enemies, complicated relationship, blood, porn with plot, hate/angry sex (kind of), smut, degrading words, Insults, teasing, riding, unprotected sex p in v and more; mdni 𖤐 18+

word count! 3.8k

𝒟ean masterlist !

── english isn't my first language, so probably some mistakes.

It was a messy hunt. Simple but without patterns. Many different bodies, in distant places and with no clear clues. It was obviously a vampire, that was the only certainty Sam and Dean had. It took them a while, but once they got to the next town they thought you would be in, it wasn't long before they found you.

And that was the first time Dean Winchester saw you.

You were covered in blood.

It wasn't subtle. Your clothes were stained, your lips parted just enough to reveal a glint of fangs beneath, your breath uneven. You stood over the body of a man, lifeless, skin ashen, and eyes wide open in terror. A predator caught in the act.

Dean didn't hesitate—he raised his machete, his stance lethal. "Son of a bitch."

Your gaze snapped to his, sharp and alert, and for a second, you didn’t move. The tension between you felt electric, sizzling in the cold air of the abandoned alley. Then, just as his muscles flexed, preparing to swing, you took a step back, your voice rough but not pleading.

"I don't want to be a monster."

The words hit him like a bullet. It was the way you said it—raw, desperate, like you were fighting for something deeper than just your life. Like you were begging him to believe you.

“You’ve got a funny way of showing it,” Dean shot back, his voice like gravel, eyes narrowed.

You shook your head, frustration breaking through. “I was turned against my will. I never asked for this.”

Sam shifted slightly, lowering his weapon just a fraction. “Then why the bodies?”

Your expression twisted with something—guilt, regret. “At first, I couldn’t control it. The hunger… it was unbearable. I—I did things I can’t take back.” You swallowed hard. “But I tried to stop, I don't want to kill people! And I swear I'm better, I'm doing a good job.”

Sam hesitated beside Dean, eyes narrowing. “A good job? What the hell is this, then? Why are you covered in blood?” his voice was suspicious, hesitant.

You wiped your mouth with the back of your hand, smearing red across your cheek. Your gaze was a mixture of confidence and fear. “I didn't want to, okay?” you admitted, voice raw. “But he followed me here, he tried to attack me and... I didn’t have a choice!”

Dean scoffed. “Bullshit. There’s always a choice.”

Your eyes darkened, something old and weary settling into your features. “You think I wanted this?” Your voice was sharp, defensive, but beneath it was something else��something broken. “You think I woke up one day and thought, ‘Hey, I’d love to spend eternity drinking blood, being hunted like an animal’?”

Dean’s grip on the knife tightened. He’d heard sob stories before. Monsters with excuses, justifications. But something about the way you looked at him made it hard to move, made his stomach twist.

Dean could feel the weight of your stare, heavy and unrelenting. He wanted to believe you were full of it, wanted to ignore the way his gut told him otherwise.

He lifted the blade, heart pounding. Just do it. Get it over with. But when he met your eyes again, all he could see was someone who never got a choice.

“Dean,” Sam said quietly.

Dean didn’t look at him. He just stood there, caught in a storm of hesitation, of instincts warring against something deeper.

Finally, he exhaled sharply, stepping back. “You so much as breathe wrong, I’ll come for you,” he warned, voice low.

Your lips curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile. “I’d expect nothing less.”

They let you go that night. He didn’t look away as you turned, vanishing into the night.

And then, for years, nothing.

Years passed.

Dean had almost forgotten about you. Almost.

Then, another case—a brutal vampire kill, bodies drained dry. It brought them back to you.

Was supposed to be an easy hunt. It was clearly just a vampire, so it would be something simple and quick. Then, someone, a witness, mentioned a beautiful woman near one of the crime scenes. Security footage was grainy at best, but Dean didn’t need a clear picture. One glimpse and his stomach dropped. He recognized that face instantly.

He hadn’t hesitated this time. He and Sam had tracked you down within hours.

When they finally found you again, you were furious. The moment you saw them, you squared your shoulders, anger blazing in your eyes. Your eyes—still sharp, still burning with that same defiance��narrowed in pure fury. “Oh, for fuck’s sake. Do you really think I'd be stupid enough to kill again? After everything?"

Dean scoffed, crossing his arms. "People are dead. And your name keeps coming up. Forgive me if I don’t take you at your word."

Your lip curled. "I’ve been clean for years. Blood bags. Animals, when I have to. But never people. Never again."

“Yeah? Then why do the bodies keep showing up?” Dean’s fingers twitched around the machete.

You let out a slow, measured breath. “I don’t know. But it’s not me.”

Dean studied you—really studied you. No blood on your clothes, no scent of fresh kills. Just raw frustration written all over your face. He hated that it wasn’t an outright lie.

Sam, watching you closely, saw something genuine in the way you said it. "Dean, maybe we should hear her out."

"No. I don’t buy it." Dean stepped closer, his voice dropping. "We’re not taking any risks. You’re coming with us."

Your eyes narrowed. "For protection, or so you can put a knife in my heart when I’m not looking?"

"Take a guess."

A storm passed through your expression before you clenched your jaw. “Fine. But if you’re wrong, you owe me.”

Dean scoffed. “Not happening.”

The motel was dimly lit, shadows stretching long across the walls. You paced near the window, arms crossed, clearly seething. Dean watched you, jaw clenched, frustration mounting. He didn’t trust you. He couldn’t. So he was here, keeping an eye on you while Sam did some more research.

"You’ve been watching me like I’m gonna rip your throat out in your sleep," you said, voice low and sharp.

Dean smirked, stepping closer. "Should I be worried?"

You let out a humorless laugh. "If I wanted to kill you, Winchester, you’d already be dead."

That did something to him. The way you said it—confident, assured, dangerous. But there was more underneath it. A challenge. A dare.

"That supposed to scare me?"

You tilted your head, gaze locking onto his. "No. I think it excites you."

The tension in the room became unbearable, thick like molasses.

Dean stood there, hands curled into fists, watching you like you were something unholy. And maybe you were. Maybe that’s why he hated you so much. Hated the way you spoke like you had nothing to lose. Hated the way you didn’t flinch when he got too close. Hated that you looked at him like he wasn’t the one in control. Hated how you were so confident and so fucking hot even though you were a vampire.

"You’re staring, Winchester," you drawled, leaning back against the motel wall, arms crossed, lips curled. "Getting ideas?"

"I don’t get ideas about monsters," Dean shot back, voice razor-sharp.

You only smirked, cocking your head to the side. "Bullshit."

Dean moved before he could stop himself, closing the distance with a fury that barely felt like his own. His hand shot out, gripping your jaw with just enough force to tell you how close you were to crossing a line.

"You wanna test me?" His voice was low, seething, full of something he wasn’t ready to name. "You really wanna see how this ends?"

You grinned, teeth gleaming like a promise. "I already know how this ends, Dean. I think you do too."

That snapped something in him. He barely registered the way his body caged you against the motel’s peeling wallpaper, the way his fingers gripped your throat—not tight enough to hurt, but enough to make you feel it. Enough to make you aware of the fact that he could crush you if he wanted to. That maybe he wanted to. That maybe he wanted to do something worse.

"You think you know me?" he snarled, face so close that his breath was hot against your skin, smelling like leather and gunpowder. "You don’t know a damn thing."

"I know you don’t want to stop," you murmured, lashes lowering just slightly, mouth curling at the edges. "I know you’re fighting it so hard, you’re shaking."

Dean realized then—his hands were shaking. His chest was heaving. His body was pressing against yours so tightly that he could feel every breath you took. You weren’t wrong. You weren’t fucking wrong.

And you were enjoying it.

Your hands slid up his chest, nails scraping lightly over his shirt before you grabbed his jacket, keeping him closer.

"God, I fucking hate you," he spat, but the words came out more like a confession than a threat.

You tilted your chin up, brushing your lips against his jaw just to feel him jolt. "I know. And yet, here we are."

Dean didn’t think. He couldn’t. His grip on your throat tightened for just a second, just long enough to make you gasp before his mouth crashed against yours, brutal and punishing. It wasn’t a kiss. It was a battle. A goddamn war.

You met him with equal force, biting at his lip, digging your nails into his shoulders. He slammed you harder against the wall, groaning against your mouth when your fingers tugged at his hair, pulling him closer, forcing him deeper into something he couldn’t afford to want.

"Fucking hell—" He tore his lips away, panting, his forehead pressing against yours as he tried to collect himself. As if he could. As if you’d let him.

You laughed, breathless. "Don’t tell me that’s all you’ve got, Winchester."

His fingers tightened on your waist, nails digging in. "I swear to God—"

"What?" you taunted, voice syrupy sweet. "You gonna kill me? Rip my heart out?" You dragged your lips up the side of his throat, slow, taunting. "Or are you gonna fuck me so hard you forget why you ever thought you could resist?"

Dean lost it. Your legs wrapped around his waist as he lifted you effortlessly, knocking over the lamp in the process, not that either of you cared. You moaned into his mouth, raking your fingers through his hair, tugging at the short strands at the nape of his neck. His hands were everywhere—gripping your waist, sliding down to your ass, pulling you flush against him so you could feel every hard inch of him through his jeans. So you could rocked your hips against him, slow and deliberate, grinding right over where he was aching for you.

He hated you.

He needed you.

His breath was hot against your neck as he ground against you, the hard press of his cock dragging exactly where you needed it, teasing, taunting. His fingers dug into your clothed thighs, the pressure deliciously bruising. "Fucking vampire," he muttered against your skin, teeth grazing over your pulse point in a way that was nothing short of ironic. "You always this desperate, or is it just for me?"

You huffed out a breathless laugh, letting your fingers tangle into his hair, tugging hard enough to make him growl. "Please. You’re the one who can't keep his hands off me."

"Because you’re a fucking problem," he snarled, playing with the waistband of your jeans. Moving to unbutton your pants, "And I solve problems."

"By fucking them?" you taunted, tilting your head back when he rolled his hips, the friction making your breath stutter.

His smirk was pure arrogance, pushing your jeans down with one hand. "By breaking them."

Then he kissed you again—hard. The kind of kiss that stole your breath and any lingering sense of control. His tongue licked into your mouth, messy and possessive, as he ground against you just the right way. You whimpered against his lips, and he swallowed the sound like a man starved.

"You–" He pulled back just enough to tilt your chin up, thumb smearing the lipstick smudged on your lips. His eyes were dark, hungry. "Are such a pretty mess for me, darling."

His voice was mocking, filled with that arrogant, predatory edge that only made you hotter. You bit your lip, staring up at him through half-lidded eyes, letting the weight of his body press you further against the wall.

"Shut up and fuck me," you challenged, nails raking down his back.

His low chuckle sent a shiver down your spine. "Oh, you want it now?" His fingers finally dipped between your legs, slipping through the wetness in your panties he'd been teasing for too long. "So fucking needy."

You gasped as he pushed two fingers inside you, curling them just right, stretching you open as his thumb rubbed lazy circles over your clit. Your head thudded back against the wall, pleasure blooming deep and hot in your core.

He watched you with pure amusement, his pace unhurried despite the tension crackling between you both. "I’m sorry, what was that?" He pressed another finger inside, making your hips jerk. "I couldn’t hear you over all the noise you were making."

You clenched your teeth. “Go to hell." you panted, grabbing his wrist, but he didn’t let up, his smirk only growing.

“Ladies first.”

He pulled his fingers out far too soon, bringing them to his lips, sucking them clean while keeping his eyes locked onto yours. The sight made your stomach tighten, your thighs clench.

Then, before you could retort, he was carrying you to the bed, tossing you down onto the mattress with a roughness that sent heat pooling between your legs. You barely had time to adjust before he was on you again, his body pressing yours into the mattress, mouth finding your throat.

"You're warm," he murmured against your skin, lips ghosting over your pulse, his breath hot. His teeth scraped your skin, teasing. "Too warm for a vampire."

You smirked. "Guess that makes me special."

Dean's fingers curled around the hem of your shirt, pushing it up, exposing more skin inch by inch. "Yeah, well… special's a pain in my ass."

Then he was tugging it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. His hands skimmed down your sides, lingering over the soft curve of your waist before gripping your hips, pinning you beneath him.

Your breath hitched as he leaned down, lips brushing the valley between your breasts, kissing lower, lower. You arched into him instinctively, and he chuckled, mouthing at your skin, teasing but never giving you enough.

"You're real fucking needy, huh?"

You narrowed your eyes, hands sliding down his chest. "Says the guy who's already hard as a rock."

Dean scoffed, but you felt the way his cock twitched against your thigh. "Yeah, well, you are a good-looking pain in the ass."

"Dean," you warned, wanting more of him.

He smirked. "What? Thought you wanted me to fuck you like a good slut. Didn’t say how fast."

You let out a low, frustrated noise, but fuck, the teasing was getting to you. He hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties, pulling them down just as slowly. You sucked in a breath as the cool air hit your exposed skin, but before you could say anything, his mouth was on you, lips brushing over your inner thigh, teeth scraping lightly.

You gasped, arching, but his hands pinned your hips down.

"Stay still," he ordered, voice rough.

You clenched your teeth, a sharp retort on your tongue, but it died when his mouth moved higher, kissing dangerously close to where you needed him most.

"De-Dean..." you breathed.

Dean chuckled darkly, pressing his lips to your stomach, teasing his way back up. "Now you're begging?"

Your hands tangled in his hair, tugging, making him groan. "Take your fucking clothes off, Winchester."

His grin was all teeth, sharp and wicked. "Yes, ma'am."

You watched as he sat back, ripping his jacket off, yanking his shirt over his head. Revealing that broad, freckled chest. Your gaze flickered over his chest, down his stomach, tracing the scars, the muscle, the way his skin gleamed under the dim motel lamp. Then he leaned forward, letting you undo his belt, yanking it free, your fingers quickly working on his zipper.

When you pushed his jeans down, his cock strained against his boxers, thick and aching. You ran your hand over him, feeling the heat, the way he twitched beneath your touch.

Dean groaned, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. "Fuck."

You smirked. "Who's the needy slut now?"

His eyes snapped open, dark with heat. "You're gonna fucking regret that."

Then he shoved his boxers down, and before you could get another smartass remark out, he had you on your back again, legs spread beneath him. His hand gripped your jaw, forcing you to look at him as he pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, teasing.

"You ready, sweetheart?" His voice was low, taunting.

You swallowed hard, glaring up at him. "Quit teasing and do it."

Dean's smirk widened. "Since you asked so nicely…"

Then he slammed into you, and fuck—the stretch, the fullness, the way he filled you completely, bottoming out in one deep thrust.

Your head fell back against the pillow, a moan spilling from your lips.

"Shit, you feel so good," he groaned, voice tight.

He didn't move at first, just let you feel it, let you adjust, his cock throbbing inside you.

Then he pulled back—slow, deliberate—before slamming into you again, his hips snapping forward, knocking the breath from your lungs.

You cried out, nails digging into his back, but he just smirked, loving every second of it.

"That what you wanted?" he taunted, driving into you harder, deeper. "Wanted me to wreck you?"

Your breath hitched, pleasure building with each thrust. "Y-Yeah—Oh— Harder," you gasped, pushing back against him, meeting his thrusts with equal fervor.

He growled, grabbing your legs and hooking them around his waist, angling deeper, hitting exactly where you needed. Your moan was nothing short of sinful.

Dean groaned, his pace turning relentless, rough, exactly how you wanted it. He pinned your wrists above your head, keeping you completely under his control.

"You love this," he rasped, lips brushing against your ear. "Love being under me, taking every inch, huh?"

You whimpered, hips meeting his thrusts, chasing that high. But before either of you could finish you reached up to shove him off you, rolling him onto his back. He had no choice, you were stronger than him, but the look in his eyes showed how much he enjoyed this, his gaze heavy with something feral as you straddled him, grinding down, teasing him with slow, torturous rolls of your hips.

His eyes darkened, lips parting in a breathless, ragged groan.

"Oh, I see... you like when someone takes control, Winchester?" You teased feeling him harden even more inside you, if that's possible.

His hands immediately gripped your hips, but you grabbed his wrists, pinning them down beside his head.

"My turn," you whispered, rolling your hips slowly, torturously, “You gonna let me have my fun, Dean?” you purred, “Or are you too scared to let me take control?”

You keep him pinned beneath you, hips rolling in slow, devastating circles, watching the way Dean’s jaw tenses, his breath coming out in ragged pants. You smirk, running your hands up his chest, dragging your nails over his skin just to watch him shudder. Then you lean down, your breath hot against his collarbone, mouth trailing lower, tongue flicking over his nipple before you suck it into your mouth. His hips jerk up involuntarily, thrusting into you so deep that a moan rips from your throat.

You laugh against his skin, tightening your grip on his wrists where you still have him pinned. "Sensitive, huh?" you murmur, dragging your teeth lightly over his flushed skin before sucking a mark into his chest.

You grin, sitting back up, letting his hands finally break free from your grip, your hands bracing against his stomach as you lift your hips, just enough to make him feel the loss—before slamming back down.

Dean groans, head pressing back against the pillow, his hands twitching like he wants to grab you, to take back control, but still not reaching you.

You roll your hips again, slow and deep, dragging out every inch, making sure he feels everything. He’s unraveling beneath you, every muscle in his body pulled taut.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, his hands instantly gripping your thighs, eyes locked onto yours as you moved, rolling your hips just right, making him curse.

You smirked, leaning down, pressing your lips against his jaw. “You taste so good, Dean.”

His fingers tightened like he was resisting the urge to flip you back over. Your lips danced across his throat, teasingly grazing his pulse with your teeth, leaving him momentarily frozen in place. With a deliberate slowness, you traced your tongue over his skin, mocking, teasing, sending shivers down his spine.

“What’s wrong, Winchester?” you murmured, voice thick with amusement. “Scared I’ll bite?”

Dean’s breath caught. His hands dug into your thighs, his hips snapping up into you, deep, hard, desperate.

“Jesus,” he hissed, his voice sounding completely ruined, his control snapping. “Do it.”

You moaned, grinding down harder, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to his neck, sucking just hard enough to make him groan.

Dean’s hands shot to your waist, slamming you down, setting a pace that had you both falling apart.

It was filthy. It was raw. It was desperate.

And when you finally shattered, taking him with you, the world blurred, nothing left but heat and tangled limbs and ragged, gasping breaths.

You collapsed onto his chest, both of you ruined, spent, bodies trembling.

Dean let out a breathless, breathy chuckle, pressing a lazy kiss to your forehead.

“Still wanna kill me?” you murmured, dragging your fingers over his stomach.

Dean smirked, his thumb grazing your swollen lips. “Ask me again in the morning.”

But in the morning, you were gone.

No note. No goodbye. Just the scent of you still on the sheets.

Dean woke up, groggy, running a hand down his face before turning to see the empty bed beside him. His jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he exhaled hard.

Of course.

The motel door creaked open, and Sam stepped in, glancing at the bed and noticing you were missing before raising an eyebrow at his brother.

Dean glared. “Don’t start.”

“Didn’t say anything.”

But something inside Dean twisted.

Because this wasn’t over.

Not even close.

𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!

𖤐 main masterlist.

lina's notes: This has been sitting in my drafts for so long that I'm happy to finally post it, I'm really nervous because I don't know if it turned out how I expected... But I hope you like it and give me feedback on what you think pls <3 I will probably write a second part soon, if you guys like it 👀 I wanted to especially thank @blossomingorchids who read the beginning and helped me, thank you sweetie 🫶

tagging some people I think would like: @lyarr24 @cowboysandcigarettes @blossomingorchids @bettystonewell @rositaslabyrinth @multiversefanfics @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @freeluigihesbae @fuckedupfate @bejeweledinterludes @jaredpadonlyyyy @littlesoulshine @sunsbaby @soldiersgirl @losers-clvb @deansbeer @starzify @h8aaz @vmiina @figthoughts @maddie0101 (I need to make a decent taglist lol, let me know if you want to be added or remove)

divider made by @elleisdesigning <3

[singemall-stayallnight]

Jimmy Page Once Invited a Fan Into His Home - The Old Mill House in Windsor

Source.

I once got an unexpected tour of Jimmy's house in Windsor.

It was 1982, I lived in Manchester at that time. Four of us drove 200 miles to Windsor in the hope of getting an autograph. My friends were too nervous to get out of the car and sent me to the gates of the mansion to press the buzzer. I was nervously awaiting a voice on the intercom and was pressed up against it….then I heard a voice shout 'hello?' ..but not from the intercom. I looked towards the house and was astonished to see Jimmy! I was expecting his secretary or minder or someone ….

I smiled but couldn't speak!! Luckily, I was wearing a Zep Euro 1980 tour sweatshirt and carrying a Zep book. He smiled and the electronic gates parted. I was in !!

Jimmy at the Old Mill House.

We shook hands and went inside…Jimmy said he thought I was the electrician he had been waiting for. He said Charlotte and Scarlet were in France and his assistant was off so he was the only one in. I expected him to sign the book and then I would be sent on my way but Jimmy went through every page of the book ( In The Light) …commenting on the photos " ooh don't remember that" "that was in France ???" "Ha Ha Look at Robert !! " Stuff like that.

We then talked about Death Wish 2 and how he only had eight weeks to do the whole thing. Then we talked about Roberts new album ..which wasn't out yet (Pictures at Eleven) but jimmy had heard it and liked it.

I suddenly remembered my friends outside beyond the gates. They would kill me. I told Jimmy there were 3 more outside. Obviously, in hindsight, he would be wary of inviting three more into the house when he was on his own…but he didn't say as much…after a pause he said "OK let's go and meet them…I have to find some shoes though..come on"…and he beckoned me to follow him. He couldn't find them at first and I got a bit of a tour around the house whilst he looked.

Once he found them we went outside to see my friends peering through the gates…jimmy was carrying a remote control and opened the gates. He greeted all my friends…and one of my friends started taking photos of us all.

Conscious of taking up more of his time…every time there was a lull in conversation one of us would say "Thanks Jimmy..it's been great " and we would start to leave..but Jimmy kept coming up with more stories and anecdotes. It was fantastic. How Robert was "very shy" in the early days "but then when he grew his hair he became…." ( Jimmy puffs up his chest and does a strong man impersonation).

At one point Jimmy pointed to the book I was carrying…I gave it to him. He pointed to John Bonham and said "but HE was the governor!! I still can't believe he's gone." Lots of Bonzo stories followed.

Finally, Jimmy made to leave. He said "God Bless" as he moved towards the gates. He had already flicked the switch and the gates were closing…he ambled up to them and by the narrowest of margins casually, just in time, got through them. It looked incredibly cool and deliberate. We watched as he walked towards the house…then he paused, turned to us and in a piece of pure Michael Caine said " do you know..one day those gates will take my fucking head off !! Laughter all around. We had permanent disbelieving smiles all the way home.

[kxsagi]

Lol I'M SORRY😭😭🥶 this is the second request back to back😞. Literally. I got another idea as soon as I hit the ask/send button.

2nd idea if you don't mind.... pianist rin x orchestra reader 🤫‼️‼️. Idk what instrument really. But I've recently been rewatching Wednesday and thought hmmm.... wednesday likes horror...rin likes horror... So yeah I don't get my thought process either but basically I think cellist reader 😭😭😭

“𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬”

a/n: okay okay i see you 🤭 ngl rin looks like a pianist, or maybe just because my mom’s friend’s son literally looks like rin and he’s a skilled pianist

this was actually nice to write since both of my younger sisters are in band and one of them has been playing the piano for nine years, ever since she was really young

(canon in D would be the song that rin and reader would play together)

(art credits go to paresseux_0_0 on X)

the concert hall buzzed with anticipation as the lights dimmed, and the orchestra settled into place. you, a skilled cellist with a passion for music that ran deep in your bones, adjusted the strap of your cello and glanced toward the grand piano on the stage. there, sitting with a calm yet intense expression, was rin. his fingers were poised above the keys, his eyes closed in concentration, preparing for the piece you both had rehearsed countless times. 

it was the final piece of the evening, a duet between piano and cello, a symphony that had always held a special place in your heart. your heart beat in time with the rhythm of the music as the conductor raised his baton. the first note rang out from rin’s piano, a deep, resonant chord that seemed to echo throughout the hall. 

you answered with your cello, the warm sound of the strings weaving through the air. the blend of both instruments created a melody so beautiful it felt as though time had paused. the audience, quiet and still, hung on every note as you both danced through the music together, a seamless duet of sound and soul. 

rin's fingers flew across the piano keys, his eyes occasionally meeting yours in the briefest of glances. despite his usual stoic nature, there was a warmth in his gaze as the music flowed between you. it was as though you two had become one, not just musicians but partners in the art of creation. 

there was a moment, toward the end of the piece, when the music swelled to a breathtaking crescendo. rin’s playing grew more fervent, matching the rise in the cello’s notes. your heart raced in synchrony with the movement, and the two of you reached the peak of the music, perfectly timed, perfectly connected. 

and then, as if the world had taken a collective breath, the final note rang out, leaving a lingering echo in the hall. silence followed, an awe-filled stillness before the audience erupted into applause. 

rin’s fingers rested gently on the piano keys, his expression softened but still a hint of concentration in his eyes. you met his gaze, and for a brief moment, everything outside the music seemed to vanish. he gave you a small, quiet smile, a rare gesture that held all the gratitude and affection he had for this shared moment. 

as the orchestra filed off the stage, you walked toward him, your cello in hand. "you played beautifully," you said, your voice soft but filled with warmth. 

he tilted his head slightly, as if considering your words, before responding, "you too. it felt... effortless." 

"that's because we make a great team," you replied, and for a moment, you both just stood there, the weight of the performance settling around you, the bond forged through music lingering in the air. 

rin, usually the type to remain composed and distant, nodded, his lips curving into a more genuine smile. "yeah. we do." 

and for the first time, he didn’t just look like a pianist; he looked like someone who had found his counterpart, someone who shared not just the same stage but the same feelings. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

[sha-brytols]

i would love to hear your thoughts on solythal cause it's so obvious that mythal used and manipulated solas but people can get so misogynistic in their takes on it like yeah okay i see your (general you) problem isn't the abuse but the fact that solas loved someone before lavellan 🙄

this has been sitting in my ask box for like a month. sorry sometimes people ask me about my opinions on things and i just dissociate for a bit because its genuinely crazy to me that people want to know what i think about stuff

anyways i said before the solythal dynamic reminds me a lot of gale and mystra from bg3 on both a narrative and fandom scale and i still stick by that. its completely possible to have a genuine discussion about the dynamic of a manipulative and self destructive relationship between a god and their favored follower and how it might even reflect on how the character acts in their relationships with the player character going forward, but these discussions get super bogged down in a lot of unnecessary vitriol directed at the female counterpart. like the kind that you would Never see in a similar dynamic where the instigator is a man.

sure, fandom hates cazador for what he did to astarion, but do they hurl half the bile at him that they do at mystra? are you more likely to see a measured analysis of how he has warped astarion's worldview or are you more likely to see a bunch of catty posts about how he's a bitch alongside at least 40 tired memes calling him a karen or any other socially acceptable target of misogyny? and whats more annoying is how these same people are often the most aggravatingly loud advocates for "dark fiction" and will tell on every opportunity that they're the most mature people in fandom because they don't judge a person based on their fictional preferences, only to fall into the exact same kind of petty judgement and moralization the second they see their Arch Nemesis, the former female love interest of their favorite blorbo

and its never just with abuse dynamics. we just see it at its loudest Today because fandom has finally gotten to a place where its a little less acceptable to be openly petty when a woman interacts romantically with a popular man, so people feel more vindicated when their jealousy can be framed as a moral concern. remember the absolutely explosive amount of discourse that was spawned when people found out isabela and fenris can be FWBs if neither are romanced? or the garrus fans who found out he can get with tali in mass effect? even today i see loads of discourse regarding neve/lucanis and how boring it is and how "oh neve deserves better" and when i check the blog 9/10 it's a lucanismancer and btw no they never talk about neve unless its specifically in relation to how much her romance with lucanis sucks. its exhausting

i do like solythal as like. a nuanced take on an abusive dynamic. dragon age in my opinion has (mostly) been really good about its portrayals of abuse. it's never as black and white as "evil person hurts good person for no reason other than theyre evil" and it at least usually tries to explore what causes these people to hurt the people they care for and how the victims internalize and process that treatment. this is the same mythal that was a part of flemeth, the woman who abused her daughter and taught her to see love as a transaction. it's not hard to imagine how that same mindset could manifest in her romantic relationships and honestly i think its actually super sick as like an inside look on what caused flemeth to treat her own daughter that way. you know.

its just like borderline impossible to talk about it here without it being hijacked by hyper egg stans who just want an excuse to hate on solas's former love interest

[actuallysaiyan]

Jealousy(All Smite x Fem!Reader)

warnings: smut, lewd themes, toxic relationships, unprotected sex, jealousy, possessiveness, oral sex(fem receiving), creampie finish, love declarations, sort of dub con in a sense, villain All Might word count: 2.7k pairings: All Smite/Toshinori Yagi x Fem!Reader summary: you left him because you thought he was holding you back and making you angry, but you never realized just how much you were in love with him until he made you jealous...

It had been so much fun with him. Yes, he was a villain without a heart. Still you longed to be with him again. But he was so damn toxic. Leaving his ass had been the best decision you ever made. 

There were a lot of things that made you realize you weren’t in a good relationship. And yet…he wasn’t the worst boyfriend. He remembered your birthday. He bought you gifts. He definitely gave you mind blowing orgasms. On the flip side of things, he was jealous and possessive. Even if guys only looked in your direction, Smite was giving them a death glare immediately.

He could be controlling, but you thought about how a lot of the times he controlled what you did because being associated with him meant danger a lot of the time.

And most of the time, he just didn’t have the time to give you. It wasn’t a proper relationship. He could be foul-mouthed and annoying. He could be demanding on top of his jealousy issues. And leaving him meant you could finally go on with your life and do the things you always wanted to do without someone holding you back like a dog on a leash.

Finally, you were free to do as you please. And at first, it was awesome. But…

None of the guys could make you cum the way he does. None of them made you feel the way he does. Being with Smite was like riding a rollercoaster. It’s thrilling, it’s scary but ultimately you just want to go back and ride it over and over and over again.

At night, in your new bed in your new apartment, you felt cold and lonely. You’d scroll through social media and see all the happy couples with their pictures posted. It made you bitter and sour. Then one night, you happened to click on his profile. The fact that he even had social media always surprised you, but he made it as private as he could. His name was a social media handle and had no ties to him. When you look at his new profile picture and see him with his arm around another girl, your stomach drops.

She’s beautiful. Like model beautiful. Perfect straight, white teeth. Bleach blonde hair. Big tits. 

It’s all the things that you weren’t. You suddenly felt so insecure about everything. You curled up in your sheets, turning off your phone. That night, it took you hours to fall asleep.

This became a terrible habit. You tried to look up the girl, but she had a private account. How dumb would it be if you tried to follow her? Surely she’d be telling him all about your dumb little stunt. 

Days went by and you were fuming with rage. You were jealous. How could you not be? He moved on from you so fast. When you left him, he was beside himself. He had been moved to tears when you told him you no longer wanted to stay with him. Smite had been angry and yelled before, but this had been the first time you saw him crying.

Then your phone rings one day while you’re out and about. You see his name and his number. You want to ignore it, but something makes you answer. His voice comes in gruffly.

“Hey, do you have a minute to come by? I need your help with something. I found something that belonged to both of us and I wanted to see how you wanted to split it.”

You scoff. “Really? Just keep it. That’s ridiculous.”

“I’m being serious. This means a lot to both of us. Just come over.”

And so with a few words, you decide to go over. You take a cab to his place and you ring the buzzer. Something about all of this had you really nervous. Why would he just randomly ask you to come over?

You can’t back out now. You head inside when the door is opened to you and you head into the elevator. Your nerves are in tatters as you ride your way up to his apartment. Even your fist shakes as you knock on the door, wondering if you should just turn back now before it’s too late.

Then the door swings open. He’s looking just as good as he always has, if not even more arousing and attractive since he’s no longer on the market and more importantly, he’s no longer yours. He smirks when he sees you.

“Well, I didn’t think you’d get here this soon. One might think you were eager to see me, doll.”

You roll your eyes. “Don’t flatter yourself, Toshinori. I’m here for whatever you want me to come see.”

You step inside the apartment, noticing that not much has changed in the month and a half since you were last here. Then you turn to face him and he smirks again. Damn him for looking this good.

“Like what you see?” he flexes in front of you.

“Not sure your new girlfriend would like you doing that.”

His eyes widen for a split second before he stares at you with the eyes of a predator. Oh, he did not realize you were jealous of his new squeeze. She wasn’t even really anything to him, just someone he met on a night out and he thought it would be the best opportunity to make it look like he was still getting tail. But he was not going to tell you that.

“Heh, come on now. She’s gorgeous. You think she’s jealous of me just flexing in front of my ex-girlfriend?”

You scowl. “I pity her.”

“Oh and why’s that?” He eyes you closely. You look really fucking hot when you’re pouting like this.

“She has to ride your tiny dick. Must be really sad for her. Can you even get it up?”

This has his blood boiling. He doesn’t even realize how he’s falling into your trap. A sarcastic laugh falls from his lips and he shakes his head.

“Come on now, dollface. We both know my dick isn’t tiny.”

“Oh yeah? You really think you got a big anaconda in your pants?”

He leans in closer, you feel his warm breath on your face now. “My dick isn’t tiny. If it were, then how is it that your cervix was often bruised huh? How is it that you learned you could squirt by my cock if it’s so tiny?”

This causes your cheeks to burn red. How dare he even bring up such intimate details like that? What the hell was wrong with him? You were so flustered right now, you didn’t even have anything for rebuttal. With your arms crossed over your chest, you looked so cute.

All Smite laughs loudly, clearly proud of himself for rendering you into this flustered and pouting mess. You couldn’t even think of anything to reply. All you could do was glare at him, angry that he won this little pissing contest.

“Awhh cat got your tongue, sweetheart?”

You try to push him away, but you were quickly losing your resolve. It wasn’t fair that he could turn you on so much like this. You were thinking about the first time he made you squirt. The bed had been such a mess after that. 

He interrupts your little fantasy with pulling your hand towards him and cupping his bulge. You pull your hand back as if you were burned instead of incredibly turned on that your ex boyfriend was hard as a rock just arguing with you.

“Ew, don’t be a damn pig! What about your new girlfriend, huh?!”

He laughs again, pissing you off even more. Before you can even react, he leans in and kisses you. You want to pull away and slap him, but dammit his tongue is sliding into your mouth. Time almost seems to slip away as you lean back in to kiss him even deeper.

Finally, you manage to push him off. You’re glaring at him. How could he do this to that beautiful woman?! She looked like a damn model! You wondered why he would even cheat on someone like that.

“She’s not my girlfriend. There is no girlfriend, sweetheart.”

The words hit you like a knife to the heart. Of course, leave it so Smite to make you jealous like that. Leave it to the damn man in front of you to drive you fucking crazy.

This is when you take all your strength and use it to push him against the wall. Before he can react this time, you kiss him. You’re all over him, pushing your breasts up against his chest. Toshinori smirks against your lips, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

“I knew you couldn’t resist me and my big cock.”

This causes you to glare at him again, but it’s short-lived. He’s kissing you again, making you feel all those old feelings for him once more. You run your fingers through his hair, tugging softly. He picks you up in his strong arms, not breaking the kiss.

You land on top of him on the bed, straddling his big form. Neither of you can seem to break away from this kiss. If anything, it turns even more hungry and sloppy as the two of you rub your tongues together. 

Panting as you finally pull away, you and him begin to undress as quickly as possible. Once you’re naked, you keep him under you. With a teasing glance, you guide his cock to your folds and keep it nestled there. And that’s when you begin rocking your hips back and forth, teasing him with just a pussyjob.

“Come on, please…” he begs, which surprises you.

“Oh the big, bad All Smite begs now?”

He growls with annoyance and turns you both over, hovering on top of you. There’s a playful look in his eyes, but then it turns soft when he sees how good you look under him. 

Slow kisses are trailed down your body until he spreads your thighs. There’s a look of pure, euphoric pleasure on his face as he gets a whiff of your scent. It’s a heady smell, making his cock throb even more. Then tantalizingly, he begins to lap at your leaking pussy.

Sweet cries of love are ripped from your throat as Toshinori works you to two earth shattering orgasms with just his mouth alone. You wish you could curse him for being that good, but the best part was yet to come. The cock you had insulted just a few minutes earlier was about to spread you wide open. 

He looks down as he slides into you, inch by inch. You grip the sheets beneath you; the most pathetic noises are coming from you and it makes him laugh. You’re so damn cute when you haven’t been fucked properly in so long.

“My dick still tiny?” He asks, now balls deep inside of you.

You are about to answer when he begins to rock his hips in harsh thrusts. All that comes from you is sweet moans and begging for him not to stop. Toshinori loves seeing you like this. It had been way too long since he’s fucked you and he understands what kind of jackass he’s been to lose you.

“Fuck you,” you manage to spit out. “Fuck you and your damn cock!”

He grins. “Yeah, that’s what I’m trying to do, sweetheart. Tryin’ to fuck you with my cock.”

With an eager growl, he leans in to begin nipping at your neck. He hates the thought of you going out there alone and finding someone else to try to get you off. It was very clear to him that you weren’t getting the pleasure you desperately needed. And he had been part of the issue.

“Oh, oh fuck—” you whine. “Right there, Toshi.”

This made his cock throb inside of you. He loved it when you called him by his name. It made him feel proud, loved, wanted, desired. He wanted to hear you say his name for as long as he could. He continues to pound into you, kissing your neck.

“Say you’re mine,” he growls as he nips at your neck.

“What?!” You cry out, trying to break out of this spell.

“Say you’re mine. Say it, and I’ll let you cum.”

You swallow hard and try to come to terms with what he’s asking you. But you’re just almost there. Almost fucking there. You’re gonna make a mess too when you finally climax. It’s been too long since you’ve had this kind of orgasm. Despite your pride telling you to not fall into his trap, pleasure is messing with your mind.

“I’m yours!” You crumble. “I’m all yours!”

Your pleas do not fall on deaf ears. Toshinori reaches between you both and plays with your swollen clit. He kisses you fiercely, his lips finding solace with yours. The coil is wound so damn tight, and you’re so fucking close. Between heated kisses, you beg for him to fuck you, to never stop, to keep going…anything.

Stars dance in your vision as your body arches off the bed. Smite chuckles, but it soon turns choked as he feels your walls clamping down on him. His own knees buckle as he begins to spill inside of you. The two of you move in tandem, in unison, as you ride out the most divine high you’ve ever felt in your life.

As things slowly come down, you’re still clinging to the man on top of you. He slumps against your chest, careful not to crush you with his weight. Suddenly, you’re made so much aware of what has just happened. Tears sting your eyes as you think about what’s to come after this. You think about how fucking stupid you were, how could you be so dumb to let a little sweet talk and teasing get you into his bed once more?

When Toshinori lifts his head to check on you because you are definitely way too quiet, he panics when he sees you crying. His big hands cup your face, wiping away the stray tears. He leans in to capture your lips with his; it’s soft and sensual now. He rubs his nose against yours before leaning his forehead against yours.

“Don’t cry,” his voice is shaky. He almost sounds close to tears. “Don’t cry or else…I’ll fuckin’ start crying too.”

This surprises you in a way. Another time to see him crying. The second time only. You wonder if he spent his nights apart from you crying and trying to understand where he went wrong with your relationship. His eyes snap up to yours, a sad little smile tinged on his face.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out in a whisper. “I just…I realized what just happened and everything came crashing down.”

He rubs his nose against yours again and kisses you. “I know…I know, I was a fucking asshole. I was wrong.”

You shake your head. “I was a bitch to you. How stupid I was…then that picture made me go mad with jealousy.”

His heart flutters in his chest. He knew you had been jealous, it was obvious when you came in claiming he had a small dick. But you really do care about him. You really might even love him.

“Toshinori,” you whisper. “Don’t make me leave. Please.”

He’s shocked. “Of course, you don’t have to leave.”

He pulls out of you and rolls over. Two strong arms pull you in to snuggle against his chest. When you’re nestled in his arms and you calm yourself, you look up at him and smile.

“I love you. I was wrong to leave.”

He smiles genuinely. “I love you too, doll. I was wrong to let you go.”

Neither of you say anything for a while before you realize you’ve got a pressing question. You look up at him once more and he smirks.

“So what did you find that belonged to the both of us? What was it that brought me here because it was so important?”

He laughs. “Nothing. I just knew you’d come if I said it was something we both owned.”

You smack his chest playfully but he kisses you once more. Soft kisses are exchanged before you close your eyes.

“You can be a dick sometimes,” you say.

“I know, but you love me.”

reblogs and comments always appreciated!

©actuallysaiyan 2025– do not repost on other platforms, copy, translate or edit my works!

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[cultkinkcoven]

Had an interesting conversation with Lord Lucifer last night.

I won’t go too into the details but y’all already know I’ve been having some problems with my mom. Well I ended up cussing her out basically through text lol. I sent her a long letter about everything and made myself extremely clear. I thought it wouldn’t amount to anything, but to my surprise, it actually seems to have gotten through to her. She genuinely apologized for what feels like the first time, and even asked me if I’d consider going to counselling with her, which I agreed to at least try.

I asked Lucifer if he thought I was making the right decision, should I give her another chance? And I was expecting him to say something like “don’t allow yourself to be manipulated again,” but instead he sort of smiled and said he was proud of me.

“It takes a lot of strength to survive after exile, even more to forgive. You have mastered this period of self acceptance, resilience and survival, now I hope to see you master healing.”

and that was nice to hear, it gave me hope that this is something that truly can be overcome with time and effort.

But then, I got this pit in my stomach. Even if my mom and I could somehow find common ground, I am still a Luciferian, I will remain a Luciferian, and she will likely remain a radical christian. And as if he was reading my mind, Lucifer said, “when you have healed you will no longer need me.”

and that stung, because I never wanted to think that my relationship with him hinged on my distance to my mother. I didn’t respond.

“When we met, you had wounds that I sought to help you heal, now you are learning how. I never sought to isolate you, even after the fall, the goal is to rise again, eventually.”

“with you,” I responded, “I rise again, with you, with myself, still the person I was as I fell. Maybe I originally clung to you because I needed something, and you made the wounds less painful. But I also chose you, not to be my healer, to be my God. Your light has shown me a path to redemption, you have helped me heal, but that is not all you have done. You know I will continue to follow you, you know you will always be my Father, whether I am wounded or standing tall.”

and he smiled at that again. “Your mother may have found it within herself to try and find you, my boy. That doesn’t mean she’ll like what she sees at the end of it. Are you really willing to lose her again if things don’t work out, just to continue following me?”

lol. “Lord Lucifer, you taught me how to fall without hurting myself. I will spend my entire life rising and falling, I have spent my entire life leaving and returning to her. So long as I am Shi, and so long as you are Venus, we will forever be tethered to our movements. That’s what I promised you. That’s what you promised me.”

In could feel him confront me, like he was seriously looking down at me. “That’s very difficult, Shi, that’s a very heavy burden to carry. In swearing yourself to me you have guaranteed a life of strife, a constant argument that will never go away, is that what you want?”

“Are you not the constant argument that never goes away? and am I not the child that never knows when to stop talking?”

“Some would say”

“Then this is a strife I am familiar with, it’s an old friend of mine. I don’t fear conflict, what I fear is the erosion of my sense of self, my principles, your principles. Lucifer, I will become the enemy of the world if it means having this.”

and he shrunk down to my level, so we were eye to eye. “and what is this?” he asked.

“Us. you, me, the person I found within myself when I had nothing else. I’m okay with being hated, what I cannot be is misrepresented. I won’t turn into someone else for the sake of someone else, especially not when the Lord I have has always accepted me for who I really am. I just gained this freedom, Lucifer. It is the one thing I can never let go.”

and finally, he smiled again. “Freedom,” he echoed, “yes, that’s it. There are many things I love, education, discovery, temptation… but freedom has always been my truest love. You’ve earned freedom, now you have choice.”

“I choose of my volition to follow the light that loves freedom. Even when I no longer need you, I will always choose you, and I will always choose myself. In doing so I have also chosen love, I have chosen to be strong and give to others what has not been given to me. I will not be cruel or turn away from those who have abandoned me, I am stronger than them. You gave me this strength.”

and he nods. “You can’t get rid of me, bitch,” I added, and he blew up into laughter. “I’m serious. You signed that contract just like I did, you’re stuck with me, Lucifer, forever. You don’t get to be free of me just because my mom is back.”

and another hearty laugh. “It’s a done deal then,” he finally says, “you’re mine forever. I will love you no matter where you are, no matter what you need.”

“I fucking better be.”

As difficult as this whole thing has been, I’m actually… happy? now. I feel like I have actually achieved some peace, not by running away and saying fuck you forever to everyone, but by being real as fuck and doubling down. Had I not sent that message, had I not been the harbinger of conflict yet again, we would still be stuck in limbo. And as satisfying as it would have been to my pride to say “you fucked up, its too late”, I know that in the long run, building and healing will be better for my soul. My internal conflict has evaporated, I know exactly who I am and exactly what I want and need. I have no guilt nor shame, and I have the tools to continue to ascend higher, even if I fall.

I am content.

[seumyo]

late night thoughts with kuroiro shihai.

It was well past midnight—2 a.m., to be exact—and you found yourself padding down the hallway, your socks muffling your footsteps against the cool, wooden floor. You weren’t really sure why you were so thirsty tonight, but the dryness in your throat was enough to push you out of bed and toward the common kitchen.

Only the small overhead light in the kitchen was on, casting a dim glow over the countertops and cabinets. It wasn’t bright enough to fully illuminate the space, but it was enough for you to see where you were going—and honestly, you didn’t really need to blind yourself over a cup of water. You let out a small yawn, rubbing your eyes as you reached for a glass from the dish rack. Just as you were about to fill it with water, you heard something.

Well, you thought you did.

A shuffle.

The kind that made the tiny hairs on her arms rise.

Maybe it was your mind playing tricks with you again at this time of night.

You paused, your fingers tightening around the glass. Your logical side told you it was probably one of your classmates unable to sleep as well, maybe someone who had snuck into the kitchen for a late-night snack. It wouldn’t be unusual—you had caught Tsuburaba raiding the common fridge past midnight on more than one occasion.

But then you heard it again.

A whisper of movement.

Closer.

Your breath hitched slightly.

What were the odds that you’d get kidnapped and/or murdered in the dorms of a prestigious hero school—surveilled by cameras and guards with routine shifts?

The kitchen light only stretched so far, and beyond its reach, the hallways were shrouded in darkness. You turned your head slightly, trying to make out a shape in the shadows, but it was nearly impossible. You frowned to yourself.

It’s just one of the others, you reassured yourself, though your grip on the glass didn’t loosen.

Before you could react, a deep voice murmured close—too close—to your ear—

“Couldn’t sleep?”

The response was instinctive and immediate. Your elbow shot back with more force than you intended, landing directly into someone’s side with a solid thud.

There was a sharp intake of breath, followed by a strangled, “Ow—”

You whirled around, your heart still pounding, only to find Kuroiro clutching his ribs, his expression a mix of surprise and pain.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, quickly setting your glass down on the counter. “Shihai!”

He gave a slightly strained chuckle, rubbing at the spot you had just elbowed. “Damn, those reflexes were on point.”

As if you two weren’t supposed to have them when you’re training to become heroes.

“I—” You ignored what he told you as you covered your mouth with both hands. “I thought you were—! You scared me!”

“I said your name,” he pointed out, still grimacing as he leaned against the counter.

“Yeah, right next to my ear in the dark! And that doesn’t help at all,” you huffed, still trying to get your pulse to settle. “Why do you always do this?”

Kuroiro straightened up slightly, giving you a lazy, amused smile despite his pain. Those pearly whites knowing just how to charm you as his dark eyes gleamed even in the dim light. “I just wanted to see you,” he admitted. “And maybe, you know, sneak in a little cuddle…”

“Again, you scared me!”

“You’re the one who almost broke my ribs.” He tilted his head slightly, a sheepish grin forming on his lips. “I just wanted to cuddle with my girlfriend.”

“You startled me. And you know I don’t like it when people sneak up on me in the dark.”

“Yeah, yeah. My bad.” Then, without warning, he leaned in slightly, resting his forehead against your shoulder with an exaggerated sigh. “But in my defense, I thought I’d be smooth this time. Apparently not.”

You rolled your eyes, but you didn’t push him away. Instead, you sighed, your fingers brushing against the sleeve of his hoodie. “You need to stop sneaking around like some horror movie villain,” you mumbled.

“But I am the horror movie villain,” he murmured back. “And you’re my final girl.”

You gave him a flat look. “You’re so weird.”

Kuroiro, still slightly rubbing his sore side, gave you a look of mock betrayal. “I came here for comfort, and instead, I got assaulted and slandered. Talk about cruelty all in one night.”

Taking a step back, you took a good look at him, lightly pressing your fingers against where you had hit him. “Are you okay? I didn’t mean to—”

“I think I might need mouth-to-mouth,” he said, completely straight-faced.

You blinked. Then, you swatted his arm. “Shut up.”

He laughed softly, watching as you turned back to grab your glass of water. As you took a sip, he moved behind you again, loosely wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his chin on your shoulder.

You hummed, though you didn’t push him away. “Shihai.”

“Hmm?”

“You smell like the blanket you cocoon yourself in.”

“Well, just so you know, I was cocooned in it.”

“You’re such a bat,” you teased, laughing.

He chuckled quietly, nuzzling against your shoulder. “And you’re my nightlight.”

You tilted your head back against him. “That was cheesy.”

“Yeah, but you’re smiling.”

“I am. What of it?”

“Nothing.”

They stood like that for a moment, Sia sipping at her water while Kuroiro just held onto her like a sleepy cat unwilling to let go of its warmth source.

“…Hey?”

“Hm?”

“I really think my side still hurts.”

You frowned and turned—again. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“I might forgive you if you kiss it better.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, then, instead of kissing his ribs, pressed a quick peck to his cheek before stepping back.

“There. Happy?”

Kuroiro blinked, momentarily caught off guard. Then, a slow, lazy grin spread across his face. “I think my side still hurts a little, though.”

“Nuh uh. C’mon, you’re going back to bed before you come up with more excuses.”

He lets you pull him along.

“Only if I get the cuddles I originally came here for.”

You sighed but didn’t argue. After all, it was pretty late.

SEUMYO © 2025. PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[1aster1]

Once upon a time there was a little blonde orphan girl that had no name or family. On this fateful day that would change for better or worse when she was found by a wealthy woman who took her in and gave her a name and a family. One day the blond woman fell ill and sadly passed away. All of her hard earned wealth along with the girl she deeply cared for was inherited by her brother and his 3 kids.

Rain poured down on the building as a 17 year old girl swept a broom in hand. The building was massive and extravagant from the delicit architecture to elegant furniture. The girl’s beauty stood out even amongst the intricacies of the building as she cleaned. Through the sound of heavy rain voices could be heard if one listened carefully enough.

“What should I do with her when we attend that-” A male voice spoke out to himself.

As the girl continued sweeping the floors her step sisters walked into the hallway. Each of them has a distinct natural hair color. The youngest of the triplets had bright green hair Yonji, in the middle was a bright blue Niji, and last was hair ruby red Ichji.

“Sweeping again Sanji!? HA! HA! HA!” Yonji spoke with venom, doing a dramatic hair flip with her long straight green hair. While Yonji’s, Niji, sibling ran at Sanji and pushed her to the ground with the falling out of Sanji hands as well.

“What do you want?” Sanji spoke back timidly, getting up off the cold wooden floor.

“We wanted to tell you about the gala that’s tomorrow. You filthy street rat,” Ichji stated, leaning against the wall looking down at Sanji.

“Don’t forget the important part, HA HAHA THAT YOUR NOT ALLOWED TO GO SANJI!” Yonji said in a mocking tone, as the three step sisters leave the room in a dramatic fashion.

-

It was the night of the gala and Sanji was the only one left in the house. Sanji was in the garden watering the plant, humming to herself, in an attempt to not cry over not being able to go to the gala.

“Oh all I ask for is one night where I can forget about this place and have a little fun,” Sanji thought out loud to herself, as she sat down on one of the stone benches.

“A little fun you say? Hmm, I think I can arrange that,” a voice stated.

“AAA?!” Sanji screeched out startled.

“Oh I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

“Who are you?”

“Oh meee? I’m your fairy godmother, and my name is DIP, it’s very nice to finally meet you Sanji. I would love to talk more but I don’t have much time at the moment,” DIP told Sanji, not giving her a moment to speak.

“Nice to meet you too,” Sanji spoke with a smile.

“Yes, yes now you need a gown, carriage, and oh can’t forget the shoes,” DIP muttered to themselves as Sanji was magically wearing a dark blue gown, sitting in a carriage with glass shoes as it started to drive off to the gala.

-

Arriving at the gala Sanji was greeted at the door by the staff members working. Inside the building Sanji was greeted with the gorgeous architecture. As Sanji wandered she ran into someone.

“Oh, sorry I didn’t see you there,” Sanji apologized.

“It’s nothing… Nice to meet you. I'm Zoro. Would you like to have this dance with me?” Zoro asked extremely flustered after seeing just how beautiful Sanji was.

“Sure, I don’t really know how to dance though,” Sanji replied nervously.

“Oh, just follow my lead you’ll be fine,” Zoro reassured.

As the two of them danced the night away Sanji looked at the time and realized that she needed to go.

“I’m sorry, but I must take my leave now,” Sanji stated, rushing out the doors.

“Wait, don't leave! I never even got your name miss-!” Zoro yelled as she ran after her but just couldn’t seem to keep up as she lost her at the stairs. Zoro looked down to see that she had lost one of her shoes in the rush to leave.

-

Zoro decided to go to every single house and have them try on the shoe and if it fits then that had to be her. After trying several houses with no luck. Zoro arrived at the Vinsmoke Family Estate where the three step sisters all tried on the shoe to no avail. As Zoro was about to leave Sanji walked down the stairs. As Zoro looked into her loving blue eyes she knew it was her. Zoro had Sanji try on the shoe that fits her perfectly and Sanji leaves this horrid place with Zoro, happily ever after. The end.

A/N

So this was an assignment that I did for school. I originally wanted to go back and add more to the story. Mainly because I was kind of rushing parts of it. I will probably still end up coming back to this but for now this is all I have.

Side Note: I made art of the sisters. It’s still a work in progress though.

[moncherriecoups]

Muted Hearts - Before Us

The one who let me know and see myself

You are my only reason

If you'll remember me forever

Then it's okay for me to get hurt

My heart carved with your light

Only makes me stronger

Your sharp thorns, please give it to me

'Cause you're my flower

Chapter 10.2

February 2024

Seungcheol didn’t particularly like change.

His life was structured—schedule after schedule, practice, meetings, rehearsals, workouts. If he could keep at least one thing constant, he would. And for the longest time, that one thing was the gym in the company building. It was close, private, and most importantly, familiar.

But then came Kim Mingyu.

"Hyung, please," Mingyu had whined, practically draping himself over Seungcheol's back after practice. "I found this gym, and it’s so much better than the one at the company. The vibe is cozy, the equipment is brand new, and they even have protein shakes made fresh at the counter—fresh, hyung!"

Seungcheol had barely looked up from his phone, already suspicious. "Then go by yourself?"

"I hate going alone."

Of course he did. Mingyu was practically a golden retriever in human form—thrived in companionship, hated doing anything solo. But Seungcheol wasn’t about to be dragged across town just because the younger one wanted a change of scenery.

Until Mingyu pulled out the final weapon.

"You do realize that our company gym is getting boring, right? Same people. Same routines. Same everything. Don’t you feel a little tired of it, hyung?"

Seungcheol had scoffed at the time, brushing it off with a lazy wave. But later that night, when he was back at the company gym, cycling through the same warm-ups, the same weights, the same sterile environment—he felt it.

That nagging sense of monotony.

And somehow, that was how he found himself standing outside a gym on the other side of town the following week, arms crossed, watching Mingyu practically bounce with excitement.

"See? It’s nice, right?" Mingyu beamed, swiping his membership card at the entrance. "And the people here are so chill, no one even looks twice at us!"

Seungcheol hummed noncommittally as he followed inside. The gym was… decent. Smaller than their company one, but the atmosphere was different. Cozy, like Mingyu had said. Warm lighting instead of the harsh fluorescents he was used to. A good mix of people—some regular gym-goers, others just there to stay active. No overly eager fans, no suffocating attention.

Alright, fine. Maybe Mingyu had a point.

"I'll give it a shot," Seungcheol finally muttered, rolling his shoulders.

"YES!" Mingyu fist-pumped like he had just won a bet.

–

This gym was never supposed to be a regular thing.

Originally, it was just a favor to Mingyu—a one-time visit, or so he thought. The younger member had insisted, claiming it was quieter than their company gym, had better equipment, and was “literally the perfect place to work out without distractions.”

"Just try it once, hyung," Mingyu had grinned, throwing an arm over his shoulder. "You’ll thank me later."

That never happened. But somehow, he kept coming back.

Not because of anything particularly special. He wasn’t someone who enjoyed changing up his routine. And yet, after that first visit, the place stuck in his mind.

It was quiet. No fans waiting outside, no cameras catching him off guard. The staff and members treated him like anyone else—just a guy coming in for a workout. No stares, no whispers.

It felt… normal.

And maybe that’s why his schedule started shifting around it.

At first, he only went when Mingyu was free. But, predictably, the younger man’s enthusiasm didn’t last long.

"Hyung, I can't today—early shoot."

"Hyung, let’s go tomorrow instead, I need sleep."

"Hyung, you’re still going? Damn."

One excuse after another, until he was going alone.

But stopping never crossed his mind. Somewhere along the way, this place had carved itself into his day, becoming as routine as practice or work. It wasn’t just about staying in shape anymore—it was about the rare stillness. A moment in his schedule that belonged to him.

And then, there was her.

It wasn’t immediate. No dramatic first meeting, no slow-motion glances across the gym.

She was just another regular at first. Someone who happened to be there at the same time.

Until she wasn’t just that anymore.

The little things started standing out. The way she always tied her hair back in a loose ponytail, strands slipping free by the end of her session. The way she scrolled through her phone between sets, completely lost in whatever she was reading. The way she carried herself—focused, steady, like nothing around her mattered.

Tuesdays. Thursdays. Fridays.

Always at the same time.

Always leaving just as he arrived.

He shouldn’t have cared about that.

But somehow, he did.

Because for someone he had never spoken to, who had never even looked his way—she was taking up space in his mind in a way he didn’t know how to stop

–

March, 2024

Seungcheol liked to believe he wasn’t easily distracted.

But lately, something had shifted.

It wasn’t the usual exhaustion from packed schedules or the weight of being SEVENTEEN’s leader. This was different—subtle, creeping in before he even realized it.

At first, it was just a passing thought. A brief glance at the clock before heading to the gym, an unconscious check to see if she was there.

Then, it became routine.

The moment he stepped inside, his eyes would instinctively scan the room, searching for a familiar figure. He told himself it was nothing—just habit, like any other part of his workout.

But on the days she wasn’t there, when the space felt a little emptier, a strange sense of disappointment settled in his chest.

Which made no sense.

He didn’t even know her.

She was just another gym-goer, part of the usual crowd.

And yet, habits were hard to break.

And once something—or someone—caught his attention, Seungcheol wasn’t the type to ignore it.

So, when he finally saw her up close for the first time, it hit him harder than expected.

The gym was quiet that afternoon, with only a few regulars scattered around. Seungcheol had just finished warming up when he turned—and there she was.

By the weights, adjusting her wrist wraps, completely focused on the task.

He shouldn’t have stared.

But something about the moment made it hard to look away.

Maybe it was the way she moved—calm, composed, lost in her own world. Maybe it was the way she carried herself, as if nothing could shake her.

Or maybe it was something else entirely.

Something he wasn’t ready to put into words.

He forced himself to look away, shaking off the thought.

Because that’s all it was.

A passing moment.

Nothing more.

At least, that’s what he told himself.

But the feeling lingered longer than it should have.

–

Obsession wasn’t in his nature. He was a leader, a decision-maker—someone who set goals and saw them through. But this? This was different.

The mystery of her lingered.

For weeks, she had been a presence just beyond his reach, slipping away before he could ever get close. Not once had they spoken, not once had he managed to be in the right place at the right time, yet somehow, she had taken up space in his thoughts.

And that wasn’t something he could ignore.

So, for the first time in a long time, curiosity got the better of him.

Answers weren’t hard to find—people talked, and the gym staff knew him well. A few casual questions here and there, nothing too obvious, and finally, he got what he wanted.

Her name.

Jang Sua.

He turned it over in his mind, testing how it sounded, how it felt. Simple, refined, carrying a quiet sort of confidence. It suited her.

And yet, the moment he had it, something about it tugged at him.

Familiar.

Like a name he had heard before but never really registered.

The realization didn’t hit him until later, when he was lounging in the practice room, half-listening to the others’ conversation.

Jang Sua.

Minghao’s Jang Sua.

The name that had surfaced in passing, always spoken with quiet admiration. The gallery girl, the art specialist—the one who had guided Minghao through paintings, pushed him beyond his comfort zone.

Recognition struck first. And then, something heavier. Something far more unsettling.

Minghao liked her.

Maybe not openly, maybe not in a way the others had picked up on, but now it was clear—the way Minghao’s voice shifted when he spoke about her, the way he lingered on details that had nothing to do with art.

And now, he wanted her too.

A slow exhale left his lips as he leaned back against the couch, eyes fixed on the ceiling.

Of course, it had to be her.

Because nothing was ever simple.

And walking away had never been his style.

—

“You look like you’ve got something on your mind,” Jeonghan mused, lazily swirling the straw in his iced americano.

Across from him, the man in question sat slumped in his chair, arms crossed, brows furrowed. It wasn’t like Seungcheol to be this quiet, especially during their late-night café runs. Normally, he was the one rambling about schedules, workouts, or whatever drama had unfolded in the group chat that day. But tonight? Silence.

Jeonghan smirked. “It’s a girl, isn’t it?”

The sharp exhale that followed was all the confirmation he needed.

“Not just any girl,” Jeonghan continued, amused. “It’s her, isn’t it? The gym girl you’ve been secretly obsessed with.”

At that, Seungcheol groaned, tilting his head back against the booth. “I’m not obsessed.”

“Sure. That’s why you’ve been going to the gym religiously every day at the same time, hoping to ‘accidentally’ run into her.”

He had nothing to say to that, so he took a slow sip of his drink instead.

Jeonghan leaned forward, resting his chin on his palm. “Alright, so what’s the problem? You like her. She doesn’t even know you exist. What’s stopping you?”

A beat of hesitation.

“…Minghao.”

That wiped the smirk off Jeonghan’s face. “Ah.”

Seungcheol exhaled, fingers tapping against his cup. “He likes her.”

There it was—the thing that had been gnawing at him for weeks now. Minghao wasn’t the type to wear his emotions on his sleeve, but it was painfully obvious. The way he talked about her, the subtle way his expression softened whenever her name came up… it didn’t take a genius to figure it out.

And yet, despite years of knowing her, he had never made a move.

“So let me get this straight.” Jeonghan sat back, tapping his fingers against the table. “Minghao’s liked her for years but never confessed, and now you like her too.”

Seungcheol nodded.

“And you’re debating whether or not to do something about it?”

Another nod.

Jeonghan let out a short laugh, shaking his head. “You know, for someone who acts all tough, you’re surprisingly considerate.”

Seungcheol scoffed. “Hannie.”

“Listen,” Jeonghan leaned in, voice low but firm, “if you make a move first and she chooses you, then that’s how it’s supposed to be. Minghao had years, Seungcheol. If he really wanted to be with her, he would’ve done something by now.”

That… was cruel.

But also true.

Seungcheol hated to admit it, but the thought had crossed his mind before. If Minghao was really that serious about her, why hadn’t he said anything? Why had he stayed in the safe zone all this time?

“You’re not doing anything wrong,” Jeonghan added, as if reading his thoughts. “You like her. You want to ask her out. That’s normal. What happens next? That’s up to her.”

The words settled in his chest, heavy but strangely reassuring.

He’d spent so much time hesitating, caught between his own feelings and the unspoken ones of his friend. But at the end of the day, the choice wasn’t his—or Minghao’s—to make.

It was hers.

And he was done waiting.

—

April, 2024

He never thought she'd say yes.

Even as the words left his mouth—carefully measured, laced with quiet hesitation—he had braced for rejection. He had prepared himself for the moment she would scoff, roll her eyes, maybe even look at him like he was out of his mind.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she tilted her head, studied him like she was searching for something beneath his careful composure, and then—"I’ll sign it."

And just like that, the ground beneath him shifted.

—

Dating Sua was unlike anything he had known before.

There were no grand declarations, no textbook romance gestures. She didn’t expect flowers or public displays of affection, didn’t demand more than what he could give.

Instead, she gave him something far more dangerous—a place to rest.

She never pried, never asked about things he wasn’t ready to share. Yet somehow, she always knew—when to let him be, when to tease him out of his exhaustion, when to lean against his shoulder and let the silence stretch comfortably between them.

Seungcheol had never met someone so effortlessly steady.

And he was already in too deep before he even realized he was falling.

—

The night it happened, he hadn’t planned for it.

They were at his apartment, the air thick with unspoken things. She sat on the couch in his hoodie, fingers wrapped around a cup of tea, looking so effortlessly like she belonged there that it made his chest ache.

Then, somewhere between soft laughter and quiet touches, she kissed him first.

It was barely there at first—a gentle press of lips, like she was testing something, waiting for him to stop her.

But he didn’t.

Instead, his hands found her waist, anchoring himself to her, deepening the kiss with a hunger he hadn't let himself acknowledge until now.

He felt her sigh against him, soft and warm, and something inside him broke.

It had been so long.

Too long since he let himself have this, let himself want without hesitation, without restraint.

And now, with her beneath him, her skin warm beneath his fingertips, her name a quiet prayer on his lips—he realized just how much he had missed this.

Missed her.

His hands trembled slightly as he traced the curve of her back, mapping the shivers he pulled from her, the soft gasps that sent heat curling through his veins.

"Are you okay?" she whispered, her fingers threading through his hair.

He exhaled a quiet laugh, pressing a kiss to the corner of her mouth. "Yeah." His voice was rougher than he expected. "You?"

She nodded, eyes heavy-lidded, lips swollen, beautiful.

And when he finally sank into her, when she breathed his name like it was something sacred—he knew.

There was no coming back from this.

—

After that night, it was over for him.

Seungcheol had always been careful—always kept a part of himself tucked away, guarded.

But now?

Now he was completely gone for her.

It was in the way he caught himself staring when she wasn’t looking. The way he found excuses to touch her, even in the smallest ways—a hand on the small of her back, fingers brushing hers, his thumb tracing absentminded circles against her skin.

The way he would wake up before her just to watch the slow rise and fall of her breath, to commit the softness of her to memory before the world pulled him away again.

He was in love with her.

So hopelessly, maddeningly in love with her that it scared him.

Because for the first time in a long time, he had something he couldn’t afford to lose.

—

August, 2024

Seungcheol had been careful.

At least, he thought he had been.

No one was supposed to know—not yet. Not until he figured out how to handle this properly. The moment the members found out, it would spread like wildfire. Not to the public, of course; he trusted them more than anyone. But within the group, between the teasing and the pestering, there would be no keeping it to himself.

So he had been careful. He had hidden it well. Or so he thought.

But now, as he sat in the dressing room, staring at the read receipt on his phone, he realized maybe he hadn’t been as subtle as he’d believed.

He had been smiling.

And someone had noticed.

"Who the hell is ‘Sua’?"

Seungcheol’s head jerked up.

Mingyu was standing over him, eyes locked onto his screen before he could react. He locked it immediately, but it was too late. DK was already launching himself onto the couch, eyes wide with betrayal.

"HYUNG, WHO IS SUA?? Secret girlfriend? Hidden manager? Are you being blackmailed? BLINK TWICE IF—"

"Mind your business," Seungcheol muttered, shoving him off, but his voice didn’t have enough bite.

Mingyu grinned, nudging his shoulder. “No, but really. Who is she?”

Seungcheol exhaled, pressing his tongue against the inside of his cheek.

"Someone important."

That should’ve been enough. That should’ve ended it.

But when he stood, stretching to make his escape, his gaze flickered across the room—

And there was Minghao.

Silent. Watching.

Seungcheol froze for a split second, just enough to feel the weight of Minghao’s gaze.

And then he turned away.

He knew that look.

Knew it too well.

Minghao had already figured it out.

—

Seungcheol wasn’t sure how long he had before Minghao confronted him, but he knew it was coming.

Minghao never reacted impulsively, never made a scene. He was careful, methodical, always waiting for the right moment to ask the right question.

So when the others had filtered out, leaving just the two of them backstage, Seungcheol didn’t need to turn around to know he was there.

"You’re seeing her."

It wasn’t a question.

Still, Seungcheol took his time turning. He could pretend to be surprised. He could play dumb. But there was no point.

Instead, he just met Minghao’s gaze.

"Yes."

Minghao didn’t flinch. Didn’t sigh. Didn’t react the way the others would have.

He just studied him.

"You never told me."

It wasn’t an accusation, but it wasn’t just a statement either. It held something else—something heavier, something that made Seungcheol’s stomach twist.

Because there was a truth underneath it.

You never told me.

But I told you about her.

I talked about her. I admired her. I trusted you.

And now, suddenly, she’s yours.

Seungcheol clenched his jaw, exhaling slowly. He could say I didn’t have to. He could say I didn’t think it mattered.

But both of those would be lies.

Minghao had noticed before anyone else. That was the kind of person he was—someone who paid attention, someone who saw things before they were spoken aloud. He had noticed the way Seungcheol lingered on his phone, the way his expression softened before locking the screen. He had noticed the flowers, the careful way Seungcheol crafted his words.

And now, standing in front of him, he wasn’t asking because he didn’t know.

He was asking because he wanted to know why.

Seungcheol swallowed. He could offer an excuse. Say it happened fast, that he didn’t want to make it a big deal. But none of those were true either.

He had avoided telling Minghao.

Because he knew it would feel like this.

Because he knew—deep down—that Minghao cared more than he ever let on.

And maybe that was the part that made Seungcheol feel guilty.

Minghao let out a quiet laugh, one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Just be careful, hyung.”

It wasn’t a warning. It wasn’t a threat.

It was a reminder.

Seungcheol didn’t ask what he meant.

Didn’t tell him that it was already too late for that.

—

September, 2024

It was supposed to be a casual night.

One of those rare evenings where practice ended early enough for them to grab drinks together, unwind after hours of sweating under bright lights and sharper critiques.

So here they were, packed into their usual spot—an upscale but quiet bar tucked away from prying eyes—nursing cold beers and emptying shared plates of anju.

Seungcheol had just returned from ordering another round when he felt it.

That shift in the air.

Subtle, but there.

The way the conversation slowed just slightly as he sat back down, the way glances flickered toward him—too fleeting to call out, but just enough to make his skin prickle.

And then—

“So,” Seungkwan began, slow, casual. A little too casual. “Sua, huh?”

Jun hummed, swirling his drink. “Interesting.”

"Very interesting,” Joshua echoed.

Seungcheol sighed, setting his glass down. “Just say it.”

Jeonghan, ever the executioner, leaned back with a lazy smirk. “We just realized something.”

A beat.

"She’s the same Jang Sua that Minghao always talks about."

Seungcheol barely reacted, years of self-control keeping his expression neutral.

But inside?

Inside, something twisted.

Of course, they figured it out.

He didn’t dare glance at Minghao, who sat a little too still, fingers resting lightly against his glass, gaze unreadable.

Vernon, unbothered as always, was the first to break the quiet. “Damn. Small world.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Woozi muttered.

DK, who always took a second longer to catch on, blinked. “Wait, so—” He turned to Minghao. “Isn’t she the one you always—”

“Drop it,” Minghao cut in smoothly.

The words weren’t sharp, but they carried weight.

DK shut up.

And just like that, the tension stretched taut.

Seungcheol breathed evenly, keeping his expression unreadable.

He didn’t owe anyone an explanation.

But under their scrutiny, he felt like he did.

Because he knew what they might thinking.

Was there something between them?Did she play them both?Did Minghao like her first?

It was bullshit.

Sua wasn’t like that.

And Minghao wasn’t the type to get strung along.

Seungcheol knew this.

And yet, the thought that even one of them might be entertaining the idea made his stomach coil uncomfortably.

He felt his jaw tighten, shoulders stiffening—

Then—

A soft nudge under the table.

Jeonghan.

Seungcheol turned slightly, catching the lazy way Jeonghan sipped his drink, the ever-knowing glint in his eyes.

“Cheol,” Jeonghan murmured, just loud enough for him to hear.

And just like that, the tension in Seungcheol’s body unraveled.

Because he knew what Jeonghan meant.

Let it go.

Starting an argument now would only make things worse.

So instead, Seungcheol exhaled. Forced himself to relax.

Shrugged.

“What can I say?” He reached for his beer, voice easy, light. “Guess Minghao has good taste.”

A beat.

Then—

Jeonghan snorted.

The others groaned.

And just like that, the weight in the air lifted.

Conversation picked up again, the scrutiny shifting elsewhere, and the moment passed.

Seungcheol took a slow sip of his drink.

Beside him, Minghao said nothing.

But Seungcheol didn’t miss the way his fingers curled around his glass just a little tighter.

──────────────────────────────

two chapters in a day bcs why not :)

[v3n1ce-bxtch]

🔪014 masterlist

CW: mentions of cheating, fluff

The sun was setting on the L/n mansion, casting long shadows across the sprawling estate as you sat on the balcony, your eyes following the path of the distant horizon. The weight of the past few days was heavy, but the tension between you and Rafe had, for once, felt lighter. He wasn’t the man you feared most days. Tonight, he seemed almost… normal.

He was sitting on the couch inside, flipping through the journal you’d given him. It was meant to be an outlet for his thoughts, a way to get the chaos of his mind out on paper, and—hopefully—begin to heal. You’d heard him writing earlier, scratching his pen across the pages, a rhythm that spoke of someone finally unraveling the storm inside of him. It was hard for you to imagine Rafe without the ever-present danger, the violence, but now, for once, he seemed like a man willing to take the first steps toward something different.

Your sister, however, was a different story.

She hadn’t been herself all day. You’d noticed the way she’d withdrawn into herself, her eyes distant whenever she spoke. She’d been too quiet, her usual energy subdued, as though something was weighing heavily on her. Finally, she broke the silence, her voice shaky as she sat beside you on the balcony.

“You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” she said, her voice small, almost like she wasn’t sure if she wanted to admit the truth. “You know about him… don’t you?”

You looked over at her, trying to gauge her mood. “What are you talking about, Lena?”

She ran a hand through her hair, her breath shaky as she exhaled. “My husband. He has a mistress,” she whispered, as though saying it aloud made it more real. “I’ve known for weeks now, but… I just… I don’t know what to do anymore. I can’t keep pretending everything’s fine when it’s not.”

You swallowed hard, your heart aching for your sister. The pain in her eyes was unmistakable—betrayal, sadness, confusion—and you knew exactly how it felt. “Lena, I’m so sorry,” you said softly, moving closer to her. “You don’t deserve this.”

She shook her head, the tears she’d been holding back threatening to spill. “I just feel so stupid. He promised me everything. And now—now I’m the one left in the dark. I just don’t know how to fix it. How to get past it.”

You reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “You’ll get through this. It’s hard, but you’re stronger than you think. I’m here for you, always.”

Lena leaned into you, her shoulders trembling as she finally let herself cry. You held her, the both of you sinking into a quiet, comforting embrace, as you tried to make her understand that no matter what, she wasn’t alone in this.

As the night wore on, you found yourself retreating to your room, trying to process everything that had been said. You couldn’t help but think about Rafe. The man who, just days ago, had seemed like a monster in your life, was now something else entirely. And you weren’t sure how to reconcile the two versions of him. The calm, almost vulnerable man sitting in the next room with his journal, and the dangerous, unhinged person he could become.

When you walked in, Rafe was still sitting on the couch, flipping through the pages of the journal, his expression thoughtful. He looked up when he heard you enter, his eyes softening just slightly. “You okay?” he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You nodded, though you weren’t sure if you were truly okay. “Yeah. Just… my sister.”

Rafe’s gaze softened even more, and he set the journal aside, his hands folding in his lap. “She’s going through a lot. You should be there for her.”

“I am,” you said, your voice thick. “But I can’t help feeling like… I don’t know, like I’m in over my head with everything else.”

Rafe didn’t respond right away, but his eyes searched yours, as if weighing your words. Finally, he stood, crossing the room to you with an ease that felt almost too natural. “I’m not insane, you know,” he said quietly, his voice almost a whisper. “I’m trying. I’m trying so damn hard to be… better. For you.”

You couldn’t help the way your heart softened at his words. You reached up, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and nodded. “I know you are.”

He took your hand, his fingers gently squeezing yours. “I’m not perfect. I know that. But I want to be. For you.”

You felt a knot form in your stomach, a mixture of fear and tenderness. “I want to believe you,” you whispered.

Rafe’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t name, but he didn’t push you further. Instead, he simply pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as though you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

⸻

The next day, your family gathered for a quiet breakfast before you had to leave the mansion. Your sister had stayed behind to process her feelings about her husband’s betrayal, her mind still reeling from the discovery. She seemed quieter than usual, but you could tell she was beginning to come to terms with what had happened, though she wasn’t ready to talk about it just yet.

But there was something else in the air that morning. As you sat around the table, the conversation light but strained, your twin nieces—who had been staying with you and Lena—came rushing down the stairs, their little faces lighting up when they saw you and Rafe. They’d been playful and excited all week, and today was no different.

“Uncle Rafe!” they shouted in unison as they spotted him, running toward him without hesitation. You froze, your eyes darting to Rafe, whose expression softened, and for a moment, you could’ve sworn there was a glimmer of pride in his eyes.

You couldn’t help but laugh as the twins wrapped their tiny arms around his legs, their voices filled with innocent joy. “Uncle Rafe! Kiss Auntie Y/N again!” one of them giggled, causing the room to fall silent for a moment.

Your parents, sitting across from you, exchanged a surprised glance, but the warmth in their eyes as they looked at you both was undeniable. They were happy—genuinely happy, in a way you hadn’t seen before.

Rafe glanced at you, his lips curving into a small, knowing smile. He held out his arms to the twins, accepting their hugs and returning the affection. It was a side of him you didn’t often see—the gentle, almost caring man who seemed so different from the one who haunted your nightmares.

Your father cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “I’m glad to see you two getting along so well,” he said, his voice deep and reassuring. “It means a lot to your mother and I.”

You smiled at your father, feeling the weight of the moment. Your family was happy. For once, everything felt… normal. Or at least, as normal as it could be in this whirlwind of your life.

After breakfast, you all said your goodbyes. Your sister’s eyes followed you as you prepared to leave, her lips pressed into a thin line. You knew she wasn’t ready to face everything yet, but you also knew she’d be okay. She was strong, just like you.

And as you walked out the door with Rafe by your side, the sense of uncertainty that had plagued you for so long seemed to lift, even if just for a moment. You were walking into the unknown, but for the first time in a long while, you weren’t alone.

Taglist: @strawberries-and-lots-of-kisses @memoirofasparklemuff1n @rafesbabygirlx @susanhill @slut4you @moneybaby07 @iluvblue-blog1 @hnelizzie @st4rgirlmar1e @sarahsangelicdoll

[soraya-snape]

There was this HP creator on TikTok that I was starting to really like. But then she said that “Snape is not a good guy (OK kinda agree but the way she said it sounded more like “he is a bad or even really bad guy” which is obviously not true) and that he only tried to save Harry which was the least he could do” and this is the part where I was like?!?!?!

He might have started off only trying to save Harry (actually Lily at first) but then he actually tries to save the whole wizarding world. Like remember that time he told Dumbledore “Lately only those I couldn't save.” or when he tried to save Lupin at the beginning of DHp1 or told Phineas Niggelus Black to not call Hermione a mud blood. And let's not forget how he spied for Dumbledore during the first and second war, which is definitely more than the least he could do. I could go on but I think people with enough braincells get that he was not just trying to save that one boy but actively going against Voldemort's values and also kinda his own (or at least the once he was taught as a kid/teen). And like the example with Lupin shows also protecting those who, from his perspective might not deserve his help (considering Remus was a bystander at his bullying who actually had the power and the duty to stop it and also while mostly being civil towards Snape in later years still made his life extremely hard [I still love Remus but let's not ignore his flaws]).

Yes maybe he was a cruel teacher even bully to some of his students (we actually canonically only know of the trio and Neville) but at the same time also beloved and admired by some (mainly Slytherin but considering how badly they were treated by almost everyone else I actually think it's good of Snape to favour them especially considering what he went through during school simply because he was Slytherin. If you have a problem with that, perhaps you should complain first about everyone mistreating the Slytherins before complaining about someone treating them nicely, even if it is unfair). 

But besides that his position in the second war (and also the end of the first one) on the good side is clear and not only to save Harry but also everyone he simply could save. And if you don't see it, maybe you should get your eyes checked, or I don't know...

[javierduffy]

ohh javieran … javieran post kieran’s death .., javier is a poor lonesome cowboy in america a long way from home with no more sweetheart to sit and talk with him ooohhh can anyone hear me ….

[littl3d0ll-art]

It always makes me so happy when an artist I recognize likes my art… like woah, I like your art and you also like mine??? No way

[cranberrymoons]

.

[cartoonrival]

and by god i will put harry the cabbie in my kte rewrite

[unproduciblesmackdown]

being alive at the time i gleaned some general elements abt encanto but never actually heard we don't talk about bruno beyond awareness it existed popping off & i think i heard like the title recited off key off rhythm but in a way that indicates speak singing nonetheless lol so upon experiencing it it's like oh but it's the Verses? while the last refrain goes harder but prior to that it's comparatively underwhelming to said verses which feels appropriate like verses / pieces of a larger picture & that a "we don't talk about him" as a disappointing Lid on infinitely richer more characterful & dynamic "but: talking about him" instances. like well personally it'd be like um seven foot frame....anyway besides being able to firsthand go like oh damn Real (the kind of thing you know exists if alive at the time) it's like alright hang on lol. one thing when a core theme is yeah like "is it a refuge if 'especial' vulnerability ultimately gets pushed out rather than made safer" subset like the parties whose even observation of truths (problems) & drawing attention to them is seen as Ruining Things, like if you're painted as Making futures that aren't simply what's desired or reassuring rather than a guidance via just observing & sharing the truth. but then it's like whaddaya mean living in fear of bruno stuttering and stumbling you could always hear him sort of muttering and mumbling lmao like now that's just Association between the Truth Perceiving & Telling behavior & behavior that's just apparently distinctive of the same person. & like Not Accidentally when [what if people were magic] specifics are obviously primarily abt a metaphorical meaning & like, indeed it was made clear like oh this situation isn't Just b/c [boo we hate your prophecies] & that [an Ability that isn't directed towards what anyone Wants / is "weird" even by these magic standards] isn't Coincidentally given to someone who just so happens to already be "weird" in other ways & be set up to have a different perspective & be pushed away due to having the supposed "extra" vulnerability of unmet needs / insufficient support, same as someone who doesn't "correctly" have any kind of magic ability....like yeah banger and also like Oh Yeah Kind Of Devastating re: that metaphorical resonance allowing for like [set the metaphor aside] now hang on with this about this disabled family member lol. misinterpretation to The Ruinerrr / The Problemmm / The Maliciousss etc (i.e. the scapegoatinggg) despite their efforts likely entirely to the contrary. then despite like, efforts aside, Just Existing, always kind of muttering & mumbling like & what of it. & then like oh sorry weird pets. weird [auspicious for adaptable tenacious thriving surviving; either way simply creatures, existing] pets.

truly like As Is The Idea I'm Sure quickly becomes like hands behind back standing at the window Uh Oh Sisters musing on all the [disabled person] metaphorical & already literal elements there. blair witching it in contemplation like We've All Been There whether being so resented for the mere disruption of "existing in a group as the 'abnormal' odd one out" or like people talking shit abt anything associated w/you as soon as you've left the room, which is also made relevant like, this wasn't Only directed at this person when seemingly permanently gone, nor were they unaware / unaffected prior....pacing in the Musing parlor like things don't Have to be compared to billions but i only ever even see so many things & it's like billions sure is like "get scapegoated rword" & then said scapegoating is presented as only beneficial & we hate autists & even beyond that it's like, grabbing billions, Imagine If Things Meant To Be About Something Were About Something. quite a contrast when they are & furthermore like, deliberate thought & Care for [who gets scapegoated & why] & the truth of like, people getting pushed aside & out who have a key perspective & are primed / liable to come through for others similarly vulnerable & the supposedly Ruinous, Problems Generating disruptiveness is actually the strongest effort to make essential changes to a group. & come through with like, it'd be undermining thee point if it was "reassuring" us like oh haha people will be supportive b/c bruno will be more normal, so great that it Didn't like no, no Normality Reassurance(tm), presence of abnormalities(tm), Good, & everyone Can Deal b/c if you don't then it's pushing this person away, is exactly what happens, including even if they're still Around but are being mistreated b/c that is entirely part of that pushing away like anyone's victim blaming is ready to pounce at any time but if someone can't stand to stay / leaves b/c they can't see another option like that's not out of nowhere nor Regardless of what full support & flexibility they were getting lol. these Active Measures everyone loves so much, which are everywhere always & would include Staying & Trying To Make It Work & those efforts would be "disruptive" & resented & Bringing It On Oneself & etccc smh

that is to all say like. Woww when clearly basically the core thread was these beats of like, the crucial site of [thee scapegoated], & why that comes down on someone & how that plays out. endless ideas about how someone weird(tm) & disabled (&/or queer. but there's no Or here lol. & again like it's a Context like, to even be the one person without kids? likely not living up to "full" correct sexuality in that way alone; any oppression's logics of "inferiority" being logics of ableism, ready examples being that "inferior" race, gender, sexuality (& their experiences as people classed as inferior) all being pathologized as disordered) are seen & treated as someone Ruining Things & who cannot belong like whew. bracing. winding. which, i also recall like i was watching with headphones & during this one dialogue pause i was like "?? what's this Extra Sound i heard there" & had to go over it like twice before being hit upside the head like well it Was still the dialogue pause but it was also bruno Stuttering in a very quiet whisper for the duration of that pause before continuing like iiiiiiii x_x