#lol could you imagine the mountain of them??

[rassicas]

I am drawing a world-building thing regarding the Splatoon equivalent of Latin American street foods namely a squid-shaped quesadilla with some casein y leche de anacardo based cheese and shrimp, and Cephalo-Pelo ceviche made by hairdressers that is soaked in a bath of salted limón juice and spicy peppers.

I decided that the Splatoon equivalent of Mexico City could be called Anguliapetl City which is a pun because Mexico City was founded (according to legend, someone witnessed an eagle fighting a snake on a cactus) and how eels and Snakes are often compared to Each other, and how angulia (Eel) and águila (Eagle). And the Nahuatl suffix -petl means City. The country could be called Los Eastados Unidos de Anguliapetl officially but Anguilapetl is probably the common name.

Cephaloperu (scrapped calling it Poulperu) is a mountainous country with unique elevation, they made Cephalo-Pelo ceviche the national dish.

Now here’s a few questions about world building:

1. Is it possible that inkfish of those places probably started harvesting a variety of corn SPECIFICALLY to Harvest Huitlacoche? (A type of fungus that is often served as a vegetarian delicacy item in Mexico)

2. Could the altitude and air pressure of Cephaloperu result in inkfish tourists having unusual experiences?

very fun ideas! i think its cool to imagine different parts of the world outside of inkopolis and the splatlands. IDK if you had thought about this already but something I'd take advantage of here is the fact that inkfish canonically used axolotls as livestock in the past! Here's another post where I talk about this more. It's implied that the inkfish of the splatlands, located in japan, stopped using axolotls as livestock for some reason. but since axolotls are native to mexico, maybe the people of the Splatoon equivalent to mexico didn't stop using them as livestock? maybe they have famous axolotl meat delicacies? Maybe they went crazy with breeding different types axolotls? there's interesting world building potential there. also, did you know splatoon's art director seita inoue spent much of his childhood in mexico? now to answer the questions:

Sometimes i'll get asked hyperspecific questions just like this about if x thing exists or is possible in the splatoon world that has basically 0% chance of being confirmed and literally nobody could know the answer to. and all i can say is: the splatoon world is as vast and complex as our own. of course it's possible! they eat corn in the splatoon world too btw. Really as long as a concept doesn't require a creature to be alive that's canonically extinct, or anything else that blatantly defies canon, if it happened on our earth, it's possible it happened in the splatoon world.

Who knows, maybe? Zero canon info to work with here aside from knowing that they breathe air.

not the most satisfying answers LOL </3

[c0rviidgutts]

JJBA Pronoun Headcanons

Honestly chat I think this is as accurate as it gets. You can argue with a wall. Only including mainline characters from parts 1-7, background characters are not really included here, neither are any characters past part 7.

Jonathan Joestar - He/Him ofc, he's polite about it bc he's a gentleman

DIO Brando- He/They but if you ask he'll take it as a sign of disrespect

Speedwagon - Also He/Him, he is very polite

Antonio Zeppeli- He/Him, he's also very polite

Joseph Joestar - He/Him and he'd probably be offended if you asked

Caesar Zeppeli- He/They, would probably sweet talk Lisa Lisa - She/Her, is pretty straight to the point and asks for yours. "Good, now we can move on."

Wanmu- He/They/It, is extremely confused and asks you what a 'pronoun' is

Eicidesi- He/They, is also pretty confused about pronouns

Kars- They/Them/It, "we are beyond your petty little discussion." would be his response probably

Jotaro Cujoh- He/Him, would be offended if you even asked (also not homophobic/transphobic tho)

Kakyoin- He/They, is very polite if asked

Polnareff- He/Him, might be confused then offended and then play it off like he wasnt

Avdol- They/Them, would be casual about it probably

Josuke Higashkita- He/They ofc

Okuyasu- He/Him, might be unintentionally rude about it

Rohan- They/Them, would tell you it's pretty obvious and they're offended you asked

Koichi- He/Him, has a neutral response

Yoshikage Kira (part 4)- He/Him for sure and would probs shoot you a dirty look

Giorno Giovana- Any pronouns, they dont particularly have a preference nor do they care enough to

Bucciarati- He/They but tells you that he prefers the former

Abacchio- They/She, but tells you they're testing the waters with the latter and that they prefer the former

Narancia- He/Him and might also be unintentionally enthusiastic about it

Fugo- They/Them and is very particular about correcting you

Trish- She/They, she just brushes you off if you ask though

Mista- He/They and might question you a few times

Diavolo- He/Him and would probs kill you if you asked

Doppio/ They/Them, wouldnt care if you asked

Jolyne- She/Her and is nice if you ask her

Ermes- She/Her, will be like "huh? whats it to ya?"

Foo Fighters- They/She but doesnt really have a preference

Anasui- He/They and is bossy about it

Weather Report- He/Him, probs wouldnt have cared if you asked him before his memories were returned but def would have once he had them back

Emporio- He/Him and is confused when you ask

Pucci- He/Him in the "im a man of god" kind of way tho def has feelings of he/they pronouns

Johnny Joestar- They/Them, is sorta embarrassed to answer

Gyro Zeppeli- He/They, would probs be unintentionally weird about it

Mountain Tim - He/Him, polite bc he is a gentleman

Diego Brando- He/Him and gives you a snooty answer

Hot Pants- Any pronouns, she doesnt particularly care what she's referred to as

Funny Valentine- He/Him and is probs transphobic about it

[pagesofkenna]

also i recognize that tlou is operating fully within the conventions of its own genre, and me complaining because it's not adhering to a narrative value of mine, at the expense of its creator's actual narrative goals, is silly

[biteyoubiteme]

with wings of wax and thread

angel!huening kai x demon!fem!reader

‧₊˚ ⋅ synopsis: In the kingdom of Aethera, an angel is pushed from the heavens. Wings torn and feathers spilling, he finds himself in the den of a demon who wishes to have never been found. Long having lived with your own fall from grace, wingless and bloody just as he is now, you help stitch back up what once was. Can nurtured understanding be crueler than nature? ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ warnings: 🔞!!!demon fem!reader, angel!huening kai, angst, blood, depression, mentions of death and gore, reader talks about being violently attacked, cpr performed, slight open ending that could lead to mc/member death if interpreted that way, unprotected sex, no pull out mention, prob forgot some sorry

⊹₊ ݁ . wc: 19.6k . ݁₊ ⊹

𓅪 ⸝⸝⸝ now playing: I, carrion (icarian) - hozier an: im so in love with this event, the work that all these amzing writers put into this is so astonishing- it’s so wild to participate in something like this when I still feel like a baby writer with so much to learn but thats always the fun bit I guess lol im so happy we could all stretch our creative abilities to come together and make this work <333 thank you for reading!!

[m.list] [aethera!event m.list]

ONCE UPON A TIME… In a land far far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky, and the water sparkled under the glowing sun. Where mountains rose high and in which long, deep caves ran. Where the sea met shore in a collision of tall waves. Where the undead walked among the living. Where the winged flew above the finned. In a land where things beyond any reason and rhyme existed. And amongst those very beings, within the veils of Aethera, there was… 

Feathers, soft and white, twisted in the golden glow from the slow-setting sun. Raining down like a thrown stone, sinking and littering the waiting ground. 

The fall from grace had been sickly sweet. The shock of that first second of flightlessness was frightening enough to cause Kai to sink his teeth into his tongue. Holding back the staggered scream he wanted to let out, still protecting the ones who wronged him. Who had sent a blistering pain down his back, the cracking of cartilage ringing in his ears as he screwed his mouth shut, pleading with glistening eyes, forgiving them the second that his foot had met nothing but air. 

His mouth had filled with blood, the ichor more sugar than iron, his stomach turning from the flavor, or maybe it was the feeling of falling. Flying had been something like this, the air rippling in his hair, every strand kissed with the soft hands of the north wind, a mother's touch. Flying had felt so close to life that even in falling he understood what it meant to have all your memories rush in front of you one last time. Because falling was like the memory of flying, the echo of it so close it was like a shout right in his ear. 

And he laughed, the sound a strangled choke, fighting its way out from between his lips, teeth stained and heart sinking. He had never felt heavy, not when lifting off the ground was second nature. Kai had imagined his bones had been hollow like a bird's, but plummeting only showed him how led he was lined. Heavy, too much for even the mother's air to carry him, slipping through fingers, through feathers. 

He didn't think that having a wing ripped right from his back would have made so many of his feathers come free, whirling around him, in a thick plume. Maybe it was his wing's way of bleeding. He had witnessed the damaged appendages before on others and they never bled, not unless wounded at the base, right at the shoulder blade. But even his feathers now were dotted with thick spots of blood, the droplets rising instead of falling with him, lighter than his lead bones. He reached out, trying to catch any feathers he could, trying to grasp them as if they would be the edge of a cliff he could pull himself back up from. But he came away with nothing but understanding. 

This was a brutal way to make a grave but it was the hand he had been dealt, the cards pushed into his waiting palms without question. He only hoped the ground wouldn’t damage his wings worse than they already were. Half hanging on by tender threads of pink life, he hoped to tuck whatever was left around him like he had when he was a child, creating a small cave for him and him alone. 

Kai was thinking in full circle thoughts, that crippling adult understanding washing away to childlike hope as he counted the seconds down to when someone would realize he wasn’t catching air, their rush to reach him deterred by the weight of him hurtling towards the waiting dirt. If his bones were not lead-lined they had been made of magnets, his ruined wings having kept him from the realization sooner; the grave always called the body. 

The carrion had made the decent look appealing. Kai had grown up seeing the demons sore up only to tuck their tar-colored wings close to their bodies, looking freer than when Kai stretched his out, the span of his shadow over the sea. If they could feel the thrill of descent he could find it in him to enjoy the last of his sorry life. 

The wind picked up, spinning him, round and round, dizzying and giggling. It was his twinkling laugh that made you look up. The jagged rocks circling his falling form, the ceiling of your cave the perfect opening for him to find himself invading. The sun was setting just enough so that the shadow of him cut deep into you, palms slick as you pushed up from where you sat at the edge of the moon pool, sand coating your fingers as you pressed a hand to your racing heart. Blood rushing in your ears, serpentine fear wrapping around your limbs running a chill down your spine. 

They had come, found your hiding spot, and planned to finish you off, that laugh was only the start. It had not yet turned cruel as it was that day, the parroting of the group still ingrained right behind your ears, following you around no matter how you tried to shake the thoughts. And now they were coming down like a meteor into the only safe space you had ever known. The entrance was hard to maneuver with wings; it only made sense they would have a rough time with landing except there was a giant splash, the water in the moonpool lapping up, the crashing sound like the waves hitting the rocks only now echoing in the carved out cave. 

Everything was getting wet, the water cold to your skin as it dotted your legs, feeling like a burn when you were so shocked. Because as the water settled, the churning sound still worked its way through your skull and it began to rain. The soft white feathers swung down billowing side to side, drifting as if they were a newborn butterfly, always knowing flying was in their bones but never knowing they could do it alone. Drifting to a final stop on water starting to calm. And there sinking to the bottom, face up and eyes closed, was an angel. 

His white wings torn and weighed him down lower and lower to the sandy floor of the pool, the plume of derby shadowing him as he hit the bottom. Hands out on either side of him like someone welcoming in the sun after a long winter, the look you saw before a much needed embrace, not as if you had ever seen it before. 

Stepping to the edge where sand turned to rock you looked back up at the sky, the fading light of the day slipping into hazy darkness, the blue hour working its way over the land before the moon fully made its appearance. But you could only see the slow falling feathers, catching wind and making way in other directions far from where you stood now. If he had been pushed by a demon they would have been on their kill without a second thought, they tracked them without mercy, like the hunters who aimed to play with their food instead of showing it the grace of kindness. If they had hit to watch him run they would have chased until it was over not let him sink in this water so far from home. They would have wanted the angels to see what they had done to such a pretty face. 

Because he was pretty, even in dying. The last bubbling breaths fluttered to the surface until they broke through the tension. You trembled, cold all over from the moment's rush of fear that was still coursing through you, hands clenching and unclenching as you thought over what to do with him. In the water he could rot without much worry to you, the fish would pick him over but it wasn't as if you got many swimming around anymore. The sea folk had warned of swimming too close to your pool, for the first couple months of you finding shelter in the hollow cave, the fish had been your only source of sustenance. But the sea folk kept to their own, even the lowest of the food chain, warning them about you had been easy enough. So his body would rise unless his wings found themselves lodged under a rock. 

You were ready to turn, find company in him even if he was at the bottom of the water until a single lone feather caught your attention. Eyes tracing the swaying descent like a cat following the trail of a mouse. Bleached white like a bone, pearlescent once it landed on the now still water, cupped like a curved leaf or petal. And there, dotted like a heart, was a single spot of blood. You could remember the way your own feathers looked, black enough for the blood to seep in and disappear like it had never existed. 

It had felt like drowning the day you found yourself here. Falling from where they had dropped you had hurt, the salt water burning your open wounds like a quick scratch from a cat. Your mouth full of the ocean, choking and suffocating you as you claw for anything to grasp. They had left you, the rain of black feathers not unlike this angel's white ones now. Only you had been still fighting, ripping at the hold that death had on you because in death you would have to go back to some kind of hell and you wouldn't be able to survive an eternity with your worst moments, not when at that peak they felt that excruciating. 

The angel now had given up, his twitching hand slowing to a stop. If the day you had found yourself drowning in this very pool had been your worst you would not let the same death kill someone else when you knew that it had been survivable. You would not take the name of your brethren as a brand but only the burden as it was, this action a shoulder shake to lessen its hold. So you dove in. 

You had reached the bottom before, the sandy ground only six feet deep, a proper grave for when your arrow rang true on the rare fish that came in. They sank from how heavy the weight of their death hit them. But they had never been truly heavy and you still felt weak in comparison to the other demons you should have taken after. It wasn't until you reached him that you realized you would have to touch him to take him to the surface. 

Your hands slid around his wrist, trying to lift him just enough to get your arms under his. Legs kicked behind you as you struggled to keep yourself in the right position, lungs constricting. He was lighter than you imagined and it was mostly because of the water's help, but his wings, broken, bent, and barely hanging on, weighed him down, hanging behind him like a sheet torn to bits. 

Kicking and kicking you went, feet pushing against the rocky walls lined with coral, sharp enough to cut into your feet. Blood was darkening the small space, his and yours, mixing as you went. The need to breathe begged at your aching lungs, throat tight with the need. He was so limp, no help as you finally broke the surface, gasping air by the mouthful as you reached an arm out for the edge. 

It hasn't crossed your mind how you would pull him out only that it was better to have his head above the water than below it. But you tried, not caring if he got scratched up as you pushed him needing to get him halfway out of the water so he was easier to pull out. Your grunts turned into near cries, he was heavier and heavier the more you pushed him out of the water, sopping body, wings, and clothes adding on to the bricks piled up you felt you were pushing out. When he was halfway up when your arms weak, you pulled yourself out of the water. No time to take a breather as you wrapped both your hands around his wrists. You groaned, putting all your weight back, tugging and tugging until he was just feet resting in the bloody water. 

Your arms are trembling, half limp only held up with the adrenaline crossing through you from the fear that was still making its way through your veins. Pushing him onto his back his partially open mouth looked as if he had already gone and died, effort wasted if you gave up now. You had never been taught the art of saving anyone but you knew what you would want if someone had been kind enough to lift a hand to help you. Fingers locked together you press on his chest, shoulders burning with the effort. Dripping water fell from your chin as you went, the droplets sliding down his cheeks like tears as you cursed. “Don't,” it was all you could make out from your clenched teeth, a demand that he not die right here, right now. Sand digging into your legs, grains between each feather pressed under him, turning them golden as the fading light hit in just right. 

You pressed so hard you felt your arms out snap, elbows locked, chest heaving in the way you wanted him to and then he coughed. The strangled choke like a morning bell, that slim chance of promise of another day. His body jerked to life, shocked like lightning he bolted, turning to the side and vomiting a mess of sea. Your nose scrunching as you sat back,  joints electrified and shot, you fell back into the sand, watching the high mouth of the cave as you listened to him continue his fit. 

In the time you had spent in the Moolpools cave it was easy to only make small movements, you hardly went out unless you were truly hungry enough to risk it. This had been the most motion you had done in a long time, and now you knew exactly why it was easy for them to target you. You felt weak, you were weak, this was only proof enough. But you had saved him, if even for a second, and they would have thought you weak for that too. 

You could hear their laughs right behind your ears. You had not been facing the sky then, but you had hoped, their hands forcing your face into the dirt. Childish demon cruelty taken a step too far even in the eyes of the elders. It had taken you a long time to catch your breath then, your lungs never obeying you but it's another reason why they had believed you dead, the sudden stillness that had taken over your body as the pain made its way through you. You wondered if your angel felt that way now. Only you had been kind enough to let him see the sky before he slipped into unconsciousness. 

Because he had, as you regained your strength to look at him, eyes closed, breathing rapid and uneven. You had given him a chance and now you didn't know what to do with him. His wings were bent and broken. Hardly any feathers clinging to the frail bones they had been attached to. It would be hell to fix them, pain unimaginable to bind and snap them back into place, stitch them together, and pray for some way to make them better again. You stood over him, the white shirt that had once been billowing in the wind was now transparent and clinging to his skin, the thread strong and fine. 

When they had ripped your wings off you had nothing left to attach, not that you haven't tried, but alone with no help there was no way to reattach wings with your hands. No way to reach behind yourself except to feel the spots they had once been, the jagged scars still there now, the ghost pain of that day still shooting down your back every time you dreamt of that day. And on the worst days, you could imagine them still behind you, heavy and protective, enough to curl yourself into your personal space, alone in the dark velvet home you had been born with already built in. Wishing they were back was worse than knowing the pain of them being taken away. And even as a demon, you would not be so cruel as your brethren had been to leave you without so much as the one thing that should never be taken from a person, angel or not. 

You still had your embroidery kit, the soft bag had been tied to your finger the day they had ruined you. The thread was dark, dyed to match the rocky mountains you had been sewing into the fabric. You wonder if they had burned your work after you were gone. All the hard hours doing the thing that you had hoped would get you by in the underworld. People loved to be flashy, spend on extravagant things, and there had been nothing more extravagant than the garments you had embroidered. 

Tucked in the bottom of the small pouch was a thin sharp pair of scissors, the handle shaped like a bird, wings laid back with its beak glossed in gold. They had been a gift when you started to learn, your needles next to them clicking around, silver and all different sizes. Everything was so small, your only weapon that day as if it would hurt them. They Had been useless but they would be put to work now. He would need to be wiped of the sand before you went in and started to clean the wounds enough to see where you would have to help sew him back together. 

You had collected a fair amount of things having lived in the cave for so long, your stash that was similar to a magpies, pretty but never something you used. Sometimes you would find things and keep them just because you might want them because it was better having something over nothing. The crate of glass bottles filled with alcohol is one of those things. It had washed up on the beach after a ship had hit the rocks, too close during a storm to leave anyone alive in the mess. You had picked over the wreckage just as the carrion you were nicknamed after. Someone would have wanted it and so you had taken it just because of that fact, if the gold meant nothing to you but everything to another you would have it, as was your nature. Now you could use it, uncork the bottle, and pour it over his back if you could get him to roll over again. 

Kai did not see you move to the dark corner where your stash was hidden when he blinked himself awake. In his confusion his lungs still felt full, his throat constricting as if he was waking in the water and not beside it, choking because his mind was trying to catch up to his reality. He hurt all over, his chest and stomach scratched and burning, heavy with an ache of bruised ribs. His back was on fire, screaming at him, begging him to scratch and rip at the pain. It made him whimper, the only sound that could come out from his raw throat. 

He could not think past anything but the look of the sky above him and not behind him as he fell. And when you showed yourself, a bottle of clear liquor in one hand and a small pouch in the other, he believed you to be a human stumbling upon him on a lone beach. He had not seen many humans, accustomed to staying up in the heavens with his brethren. And how could he have known what you really were when you were wingless? You had not grown the horns that most of the demons possessed, you could feel the spot they must have wanted to sprout through if they had been given the chance, the area always colder than the rest of your scalp. It had been one of the things they had picked at when taking their dues. 

To them, you had been no demon without the markers they had been so used to seeing, your wings the only thing tying you down to their depths. Even your power had been faint, strong enough to only wave a candle's flame to life, no roaring forest fires and destruction.  To Kai, in that moment you were nothing more than a girl who looked like the saving grace he had been begging so fiercely for when falling. 

For an angel, his dark eyes cut through you like knives. You had not been looked at so intensely since the attack, people who caught a glance had known to keep going and turn away. This gaze was a line of glimmering hope that he had thrown around your shoulders tightening until it was nothing but a collar of expectations tugging you forward. You had been taught to crush looks that felt suffocating, praise broken bonds, and burnt bridges before ever letting someone take you for a helping hand and honest heart. “Do not look at me like I'm something to be thankful for,” 

It was not the first thing that he had expected you to say to him. Not when he was so close to thinking you to be some sort of angel like him without the matching wings. Your voice cut through him, sharp and demanding, nearly as painful as it had been to wake up like this. Everything was falling apart; his body, his grip, which he had believed to be tight, around his good faith in people. But you had pulled him out of the water and maybe he had come to expect too much from people. A package deal that had been wrapped up in the warped expectations of the angels. Not that most of them followed the rules, but it was better to hide behind the guise of kindness than the truth of wrongdoing and instinctual indifference. 

The fallen angel only blinked back at your words instead of taking them in, eyes softening at the realization that it had been you alone to pull him out, your chin still dripping with the saltwater that stung the open wounds on his back. He could not do anything but look at you thankfully because it was the only thing he could focus on feeling without turning back into a pit of despair that had let him give up the second he had hit the water. Thinking even about that second of thought that would have led to forever was nothing but crushing rocks landing on his back heavier than the wings still trying to hang on by nothing but thin ribbons of flesh. 

And in truth what the look did was make you nervous. Like some lone schoolgirl who couldn't be under the pressure of her class watching a presentation. It frustrated you to no end, twisting a bloody knuckled hand around your insides and tugging them down to your knees. He was in no way able to make a move to hurt you that you wouldn't see coming first. You knew the small cave better than anyone alive and he was weak, his hands opening and closing limply like the steady wings of a butterfly resting. And all his feeble voice could muster up in response was, “Thank you,” 

The words strung together felt like thrown stones hitting you one after the other. You had been kicked out of your home and told you were no more demon than the humans roaming the castles pretending to play ruler and kingdom. To be told thank you for saving anyone, or even more specifically an angel’s, life was the final nail in your coffin. Every last thing they had said to you as they ripped your wings from your shoulders buried deep enough to burn, those two words sprouting from the grave to show the fruits of your tormentor's labor. The final stamp to seal the truth of your wrongfulness. 

It would have been easier to kill him then, easier than having to hold him down as you tried to help him, and easier than pulling him up from the depths of the moon pool. But they had been right to call you a sympathizer, right in calling you weak because looking at him needing you it was impossible to turn him away. “I'm going to hurt you,” it was a warning bell, the echo of your voice mimicking the sound of some faint prophetic truth. It was not your intention to cause pain on him but the only way that you could help him. It was easier to confess to that than to say you would try and fix him. 

But Kai did not listen, he did not care if you hurt him so long as it made his mind stop working over his last thoughts. The blinking of tears the second he had been pushed had made him feel little again, a child wondering why bad things happened at all. Why would someone push him, why would someone rip his wings until they were nothing but dead weight trying and failing to hold on to their last breath, drowning him, pulling him under into nothing but darkness? He had been wronged more than he thought would ever happen to him and if those who claimed to be honest, kind people,were the ones who hurt him, what was there to believe when those claiming to hurt him had done nothing but pull him free from death? It was a mess of contradictions and his gut was not helping him pick sides. He was a mix of emotions that felt hollow like a long dead tree waiting for a victim to fall into and perish just the same. Being hurt meant nothing to a newly found desolate creature, betrayed, and seeking grace. 

And so he would let you hurt him because he had nothing to lose, no more to give but turn over and let you try whatever it was that you had planned to help fix him. It was like a mutual understanding had fallen over the two of you like a blanket. He saw the bottle in your hand and knew, watched your fingers as they pulled out the needle, watched the way the metal turned red and you started to heat it enough to sterilize it. It was then that he knew what you were. 

It did not make him cringe, not when he knew that to have a demon at his back was akin to death incarnate welcoming themselves to twist a knife right into his spine. He knew that there were hardly enough people on this island who would have helped him enough to the point that they wouldn’t have gotten ill at the sight of his blood. Demons had steady hands; they did not tremble and they did not cower away from gore. To have been stumbled upon by a demon as generous as you were was a blessing he could not fight back against. 

So he let you turn him over, your warm hands working to take off his shirt, cutting it away until it was nothing but scraps, his face pressed into the sand, the grains catching in his lashes. You were gentle with him, laying out his wings that had lost most of their feelings, numb all the way up until they hit the spots right where they were supposed to be connected. It was the only place he could feel the pain anymore, his lungs and throat secondary to the pain he was feeling right there at the root of him. If everyone else had worn their hearts on their sleeves angels had found a way to wear their hearts on their back, their life source, and now it was screaming at him. 

You picked over the scraps of his shirt, peeling away the thread in long stands, looping the thread around your fingers, and making a small ball for you to pull from as you worked. He kept his eyes closed, lashes laying so peacefully across his cheeks as if he was dreaming in the moonlight and not waiting for you to put him back together. There was no going back the second you started, not unless you picked him apart again just to see the way he looked again while hurt. The thought made you feel a bit sick. The intrusion of it is either your mind trying to work around the situation or your faint demon instinct kicking in, playing with the idea until you fall into the trap of it. 

But it was still enticing even if it was sickening. You were so alone and bored, with nothing to do and no one to see. You had been hurt and had not yet found the outlet for that pain even years later, this was the perfect opportunity and yet you could not bring yourself to do anything but cringe the second you straddled his back. Holding him down with the weight of you as you poured the liquor over his wounds and watched him writhe from the pain. There was little enjoyment to find here. 

Kai tried to keep his mouth shut nearly as tight as his eyes but the second the first wave of the anesthetic washed over him he could not help himself from screaming. It echoed around the cave, loud enough to find itself spilling from the cave's top entrance. If anyone had been walking around they would have run, believing some wolf had gotten too far from the woods and taken a victim. You did not try to shush him, just placed your warm palm in the center of his back and pushed him back down, trying to keep him still even if it was an impossible task at that point. 

Then the first stitch came. It was easier to hold back, easier to try and focus on anything else but the blinding pain he was feeling, it was something other than the emptiness settling over him. He could not think of anything good coming from this, could not see himself going home again, to see his friends, the ones who had pushed him, his mother, his sisters. There was nothing but shame and treachery. They would have welcomed him back even wingless but there was no way for him to ever feel at home again, not when he knew what it was like to be nothing but air and death. 

He did not care if he did not move from that spot, the sand the only thing grounding him as he sunk his fingers in curling them until he could feel nothing but his mind trying to work and count every grain he could imagine on his skin. It was nothing but a tactic to let the pain wash away for even a second. He didn't even realize he was crying until the wetness was making more sand stick to his cheek. The soft rumbling of his whimpers mixed in with the faint groans he would release after a particularly tender part of the stitching. 

“You are very lucky to have me, when they took my wings I had nothing to do but bury the one they had left hanging. I don't know what it had looked like but I do know that it felt like this,” you were muttering, talking to yourself and letting the words come out without a filter just as you did when he hadn't been here. “I would have wanted even the one to be stitched back but I remember the pain and I'm-” The word sorry was not one that came from you often or at all, there was little you could do but say it now but still your throat caught. “I would not wish it on anyone,” 

Your fingers worked fluently, picking up the memory of the old stitches you had perfected long ago in a life you did not care to remember. This was nothing but an old way of passing time that you had practiced over and over again. You had never stitched up flesh and blood but it was no different now than it had been then. In a way, it was a comfort you should not have found in the task but it was impossible not to. 

“I do not know how well this will work but I will try,” his wings, covered in sparse feathers, twitched every once in a while as you carefully threaded your needles, tightening the stitches and watching the way the wings came back to life like a marionette doll pulled at its strings. It was hope and nothing more. 

Kai couldn't grit out any more words, the sound of your voice washing over him like a balm but nothing more. He wanted to hate you but knew it was necessary to feel this way when it came to pain. They had told him never to bite the hand that fed him but this was a forceful hand coming out to get him, twisting its fingers in his hair and pushing his face in the dirt until it was nothing but a given that he had to eat whatever it was that was handed to him. But he listened, taking in each word and trying to keep them as close as he could get them. 

Tried to imagine you with dark wings at your back. The silky feathers always shined so nicely in comparison to his white ones. His wings had looked plush and downy, nothing like the oily temptation of the demons. But he could not get the image around his head, could not see what it looked like any more than what it would look like to go home again. It was with you in his mind that he passed out, eyes closing until there was nothing but peaceful darkness where he had no reason to think of hurtful homecomings and angels dressed as death. 

You noticed almost as soon as he fell into the pain. Body going slack underneath you, all of his muscles loosening before he was nothing but twitching nerve ends from each insertion of the needle. It was not delightful work but clean and concise, the expert precision of a fiber works artist long since skilled in their field. Every so often your fingers struggled to keep hold of the slipping needle, the tips of each digit dipped in crimson as you went on with your task. And even as he lay there you went on with your muttering. “We will have to look for more feathers, only a few fell in here, I still have a couple but I don't know how well you will feel looking spotted like a pigeon,” 

For a long time, you had been sick at the sight of the clutch of feathers that you had kept from your wings long gone. It had been nothing but pain to see them, the sight cutting into you like a knife just sharpened on a whetstone. You had wanted to bury them right along with the wing you had put to rest, ripped the rest of the way from your back from your own hands, and yet you couldn't part with them just as you couldn't let go of the needles from your past life. 

Helping him right now, pinching skin to pierce through and thread, felt like it was somehow stitching up a bit of yourself. You acted fast almost as soon as he was out of the water because it was the way you would have wanted someone to help you. Without discrimination, just understanding. They had given you no chance and if you could not give it to yourself you would give it to someone not far off from you. Because you knew what it was like to live here stuck wingless with nothing to do but try not to rot like some discarded apple. It had taken everything in you to help yourself once you had let go of your past life. The feeling was nothing like you had ever felt before. 

It was emptiness, no more and no less, just an expanse of nothingness that unraveled the farther and farther you went into the recesses of your mind. To pull yourself from that pit and find some kind of routine was nothing short of a miracle. But if someone had been waiting here, even if they didn't pull you out of the water but took the wing you had and gave you the hope to live with that once comfort would have been better than nothing. Even if he didn't have full control over his wings like before he would still have his childhood home still there right at his back protecting him when no one else had. If you could give him that it was enough. 

But then when the sewing was done there was nothing to do but let him rest. The work you had done was as neat as it could be, the prickling skin around the base of each wing would hold steady and let the skin heal. You stood looking over him, sleeping with his soft cheek on the sand, his hair once wet now dry and resting against his sleeping brow. Angelic was the only word that would surface and it felt silly to attach something so obvious to him. He was nothing but angelic down to the bone; to his blood. But even still freckled in dried blood and his half-feathered wings you could tell it was written all over him fallen or not. 

You had seen little of the angels when growing up but occasionally they made a pass over the moonpool's mouth. Their bell-like laughter twinkled like the stars in the night that they flew with. They had seemed so far off and distant. But what you had been told about them was that they were nothing but selfish and self-righteous. Underneath the beauty was callous arrogance, they helped others but only if they had already achieved more and found that they could take the last step without them. Take help but never give credit unless it is beneficial to them to say, drop everything to look good, or fend for themselves. 

They had said all demons had shared blood with the angels, until one was banished, the bitterness infecting their souls until their wings turned ebony with rage and the promise of revenge. The story had been on your mind the second they had picked on you for being weak, wondering if somehow your blood had run thin and showed assets of your long since dead ancestors who had seen the heavens and walked with wings of ivory at their backs. Because although you found yourself thinking cruel things you did not dream to be a cruel person. 

So you cleaned him up as best you could, cleaning the blood from your hands and his back, taking the time to take your wet cloth over his feathers to try and clean them as best as you could. You watched his wings twitch in response every so often but he did not stir, there was little you could do in terms of his pain, little more you could do if he found himself with an infection. You could hardly keep yourself alive in the space, you don't get many fish unless you make it out to the beach at night, or find a rabbit in the woods easy enough to catch with a trap. Two mouths to feed was a limit you would have to push yourself to reach. 

But it was something you would think about in the morning, not when the sun was gone and the cave was dark enough that the only thing you could see was the faint glow of the moonpool. The water reflected onto the walls of the cave, washing everything in an eerie blue hue that minced what it would have looked like if you plunged in and swam with the sea folk. It was one of the few beautiful things you could indulge in and yet now you could add to the list because you had him to look at. 

Without turning your back to him you found your usual spot against the wall, the perfect place so that it was just hidden in the dark with the view to see the ceiling's entrance. There was nowhere else to look with him blocking the water as you lay down, back pressed up against the smooth stone wall, washing your heated skin with the faint coolness it had been seeking. You traced the lines of his sleeping face, scared to fall asleep with him so close. Wishing that in that moment you had your own wings to wrap you up, block you from the fear of waking up with him so near with nothing but questions and demands. 

You curled up with your small blanket, tucking it under your chin keeping the angel in sight. It was only when your lashes were fluttering closed that you noticed his eyes start to peek open. He only blinked faintly, a tremble starting in his arms but he was unable to move them. Kai felt weak, drained of everything, vision blurry with the sight of you lying down in the blue darkness. 

Whatever fear you had before was slowly washing away with the look of pain written all over him. He had no way of hurting you when he could hardly breathe properly from the pain. “What is your name?” you could not keep calling him the angel in your head or out loud. 

Your whisper carried in the room and he closed his eyes at the sound, it had been what he had heard before he passed out and it only made his mind feel at ease, something to grab onto in the pain. “Huening kai,” it was low and the only thing in the whole room besides the two of you. 

“You need to rest Kai, tomorrow we have to look for any feathers that may have dropped around the beach or the woods,” but Kai didn't care about that, not when he was still trying to find more of you to hold onto. 

“What’s-” he couldn't think of the rest of the sentence, not until it was tumbling into him like the rocks off the side of a cliff. He wanted to know your name and hold onto it so he could attach it to the thoughts and memories he was building of you in his head. “What's your name?” He was looking through his lashes only able to keep his eyes open the smallest bit because even that had felt like it took too much energy, the small twitches of his fingers taking most of the rest of his will. 

For a second you could not remember what you had been called before you were just you, because in here, alone, no one asked and no one cared. But it came back to you like the moon had come back each night, there was no forgetting it even if it sounded foreign on your tongue after so many years. Saying it, Kai could hear how unsure you felt until you repeated it again for him. 

So that's how he said it in his head, the slight second between the two the repentance following the state of his mind, that question lingering at the last syllable, and the sigh of content following the tail end when he said it again. So he let it go over and over in his head, counted the letters like sheep jumping over him, letting the thought of you lull him back to sleep instead of the pain. And you followed right after him, sleeping fitfully because every time you heard a small hitch in his breathing you had to make sure he was still alive. Make sure that your effort has not gone to waste. 

And he did live through the night and with your aid you helped him sit up in the morning. Watching him ball his fist and rub at his cheek to rid it of the sand that had built up. He looked like a cherub fallen to the stone and looking up in the foreground of the painting waiting for someone to notice his absence. Because all he could think about was if anyone missed him, if they knew what had happened to him and how he had been pushed instead of just caught in some wind he could not find control in as if he was little and learning to use his wing again. They must have said something, maybe they had blamed a demon for what had happened. 

But now with your eyes on him, watching him as you made to clean his back again, checking if in the night there was no more redness or sign of illness, he could not think to see a demon the same again. Here you were being a complete contradiction to everything he had ever been told in his life. Demons were nothing but troublemakers who thought nothing about others. They kept to themselves and made fun by bringing people down. There was no room for him to think about how good a demon could be to anyone let alone an angel like him. 

Sitting up, letting your warm hands look over his back, he wanted to lean into the touch, let you care for him until he could find a way to fly right out of here. There was no way that he could repay you for something like this, nothing for him to do but sit in the silence you had built around you. But he wanted to break it, crack against the hold that the stillness had over him, and scream at the top of his lungs and curse the heavens even if he had forgiven them for so much already. 

He did not know if he deserved what had happened to him but he understood that it had happened and there was nothing for him to do but take it. Cursing and screaming would do nothing but make him bitter and bitterness took too much from the soul, it drained people and he needed all the energy he could get. “Thank you,” it was again the only thing that he could think to say. 

“I told you it would hurt,” because every brush of your fingers to check your work was making him suck in the air between his clenched teeth, the sound fast and snakelike. 

“Would there have been another way to do it without pain?” it was nothing but a question to poke fun. Kai wanted to lighten the mood but it did not help the situation. 

“Do you think my kind would have taken it if so?” you didn't care to look at his blinking reaction, because as much as he knew you were his only option he still held some kind of grudge against demons. It was written all over his face and you didn't even have to see it to know. It shut kai up in a slip second of shame for thinking the instant no. 

“You're helping me nonetheless,” his hand reached across his body to press at his shoulder, delicate fingers so close to the torn flesh. 

You waved his hand away, “don't touch it, the worst thing would be an infection,” 

“The worst thing would be to lose them all together,” he did not say it to be mean or pick at you, he was not like your kind in that way where they know the thing that would tear you down and pick that option every time. No, he was just stating his truth and he was not lying. Infection could be helped but losing them would be closer to death. It was nothing but words but it made your back burn. 

You had heard of ghost limbs, the feeling of a hand still being there after it had been cut clean off. People believed they could scratch the limb if they thought hard enough to get rid of the feeling. You didn't know how real the feeling would be until you were there with your wing buried in the woods, the other long lost and tossed in a fire if you knew how any of them would have cleaned up the mess they made. If anything was to tear into you it was that first night where everything ached. Your back where the scabs started to turn to scars began to itch and the feeling traveled down to where there was nothingness but the hope of where your wings would resprout if that was ever an option. You wanted to wrap them around you and wished if you felt the ghost of anything it would be the home they had helped you feel but all you had felt was pain. A pain you could not help because there was nothing to do but let it work its way through your system. The pain was not an itch; not so easily taken care of. 

“That would be horrible and if you don't listen to me they will be gone, keep your hand away,” you left no room for argument in your tone and Kai listened. He curled his hand into a fist and sat it in his lap. “Today we will let the area breathe and while I’m out we can get whatever we need to make a salve to help the healing process,” Kai nodded knowing that you were right. He didn't even have the first thought of where to start to find out how to help himself. 

“Can you try and pull your wing in,” you didn't want to push him so early but you needed to know if it was worth the trip to even go out and look for feathers if he could not use them. 

For Kai, it felt like an impossible question to answer. He felt distant from his heart back, like he was cut in half but then he felt your fingertips, the feeling of them dragging along the edge of his wings, tracing the span of them and following the curve. “Can you feel that?” This was easier because it was the only thing he could focus on. The heat of you was constant, radiating from your body onto his like a blanket he wished he could pull in closer. 

“Yes,” it was shallow as he followed the feeling in his mind. He had never been sensitive to touch on his wings, he knew others could feel any brush of their feathers but he felt nothing until now. If he had lost the ability to fly he had gained the ability to have sensation right along the spot he feared he would lose anyway. 

You curled your fingers around the top of his wings slowly following the natural way they folded into themselves and helped him push them close to his back. Kai groaned but it was not as horrible as he expected it to be. With your help, he found whatever connection he had lost because now he could keep them pulled in without your help. But you still helped to tuck the other one close just as neatly, checking around his stitches to make sure they could handle the movement without being impossibly stiff. 

The sight made you clench your jaw. Jealousy had not been a familiar feeling here but it was alive and well now. But it did not matter, you could be jealous and still help him. But you had to get up and turn away, busy yourself with finding your own feathers, the ones you kept at the bottom of your stash of things, making sure they didn't accidentally get seen by you when you didn't want the reminder. 

It had felt easy to say you would give them to him in the moment but the second you pushed aside the spare clothes you had and laid eyes on them it was like saying you would clip off your fingers and let him use them on his own hands. You let the stack of clothes fall right back into place, picking up the loose shirt you could find that would button over him. He would have to wear it backwards because it was not made with wings in mind but there was nothing else for you to do unless he wanted to walk around shirtless. 

But Kai was thankful pushing his arms through the sleeves and leaving the buttons for you to do up for him. You made sure to keep yourself from brushing him accidentally, no need to touch him more than you needed to as you secured the fabric around him. But Kai instantly missed your warmth the second you pulled away. 

“The only way out is up but it's nothing too bad, you only need to raise your arms about this high,” you demonstrated, “it's mostly leg work,” 

“You want me to leave?” he didn't know why it was the first thing he would think, you had just told him about collecting materials to help him but as soon as the words left your mouth all he could think was no don't kick me out don't push me like them, as if you could hear him you shook your head. 

“Do angels only sit around when faced with adversity or do they get up and work?” you slung your bag over your shoulder, slipping both arms in to have it securely against your back. When going out it was the only thing that felt comfortable enough to have at your back when you had little else. “If you want to stay, I say we work together to make sure that we can keep you here for a bit longer, but I cannot do everything and you cannot stay forever. Tonight we only need a few things,” 

“Okay,” Kai stumbled to stand, feeling unstable and wobbly enough to reach out for the walls to hold him up. 

“You can stay here for tonight, rest more if you're not up for it,” 

“No,” it was a slight snap back against the way he was feeling. It was not only because he was feeling weak but because he did not like to sit around doing nothing, he did not want to wait for you to come back or worse wait and think that you were never coming back for him. He's sure that is something a demon would do, leave him here without help just to see how long he would stay without the help. But he was thinking badly because he didn't want to face his own truth, “I need to do something,” anything would be better than sitting around and thinking up ways to hate you over nothing at all. Because there was nothing to hate you over, you had done nothing that would make him hate you but the longer he stayed up with his thoughts they seemed to poison the image of you slowly. And he could not do that to his savior. 

“Fine, you can go first so that I can make sure you don't fall back,” and you had been telling the truth about the way out, the grooves of the walls made perfect spaces for his feet to fit. Only after a few steps up did he have to raise his arms to try and hold himself steady as he kicked his feet out the top of the opening. It was only possible because the side you had set him to get out of was shorter than the rest of the jagged ring of rocks forming the entrance of the cave. And as soon as he was out it was easy to sit and rest with his legs dangling into the open mouth as if he would just jump right into the water he had nearly died in. 

You had no trouble pulling yourself up and out, the rock smoothed down from the amount of time that you had made the trip up even if you avoided it most times. “There is no other way in or out?” Kai asked as you showed him the way down to the grassy underbrush. 

“You could swim in and out, it's not very practical but it's better that way if you want to make sure no one sees you coming in. But I don't think that would be good for you and you have to hold your breath for a long while,” Kai could not think about what it would be like to go back into the water after yesterday, he's sure he would instantly imagine himself drowning again. 

Instead, he focused on following you and your steps through the thick mess of trees surrounding the spot where you had made your home. Distantly he could hear the sea, the soft crashing of waves on the shore lightening as the two of you went until he saw the first blood-dotted feather. 

His wings twitched at the sight, the soft white tucked in between the branches and leaves of a tree. He was silent as he watched you pluck it between your fingers, reaching it like you were picking up a gold coin found on heads for luck. “You will tell me eventually why it is you fell from the heavens won't you?” he watched you twist the feather, examining the dark dried crimson stains. 

“There is little of a story there,” he was clenched all over, fists and jaw tight as you held the feather out for him to take, “you hold it,” he jutted his chin out, the only movement he could bring himself to make or else he would fall apart. 

Kai had gone through many feathers of different sizes growing up. Preening them and feeling grateful to have grown fully so that they did not fall out as often as they had when growing from downy softness to strong enough to let him fly. But it was different to see them like this. He knew they should not be in your hand, or even his. They should not be spread around the woods like bunches of snow that had not yet melted with the coming spring. But it was as if the longer he looked out over the expanse of woods in front of the two of you the more speckles of white he caught mixed in with all the green. 

He was frozen in his spot, stuck just looking out at all the pieces of himself spread out like nothing more than a chess board thrown to the ground, with no intention of being picked up after a soiled game. You could see in him the same kind of evil that was in you twisting itself around your brain the second you moved that stack of clothes and saw your own feathers. When you were young they meant nothing because they had always been there but once it started to go away, once it was nothing more than a pile in front of you it made you feel small and insignificant. 

“When they first ripped my wing it didn't hurt like I had imagined it would have,” you had been frozen, stuck like a kitten who had been picked up by the scruff of its neck. You had looked up with eyes that nearly rolled in your skull the second you realized what had happened. How could you not have felt something so huge? Maybe it was because you could not see it, your mind not catching up with your body until seconds later and it was all you could think to feel. There had been blood, slick down your back and on your fingers as you reached to try and hold onto anything that was left. “For a second you almost think you can fly away from the pain,” 

Kai watched your eyes go unfocused, lost in a thought that had been his reality just the day before. It was almost as if he could feel that foot pressed right into his back again. His ‘friend’ with the heel of his boot cutting into Kai’s spine. He had asked him to look out over the edge of the last cliff, claiming to have seen carrion flying around too close for comfort. It was only a second, looking over the edge so high up he knew that if he flew down and caught the wind that it would be a rush he could never replicate. 

The boot had been nothing but a second before his hands had been on his wings pulling them back until that sickening crunch and tear. It had happened so fast kai had felt nothing until it was all too late. 

“There is always a story and you don't have to tell me yours but know that if I could get revenge on the ones who took my ability to fly, I wouldn't hold back from repeating over and over the same pain they inflicted on me,” you tucked his feather into your bag, “they wouldn't think twice about you so don't give them the grace of never speaking up for what they did to you,” 

“You’d think that because you're a demon,” and for the first time Kai saw you crack a smile, a twisted tarnished thing. 

“We are not too different, the only thing that sets us apart is you thinking you are any better than me. You forget we both woke up in that cave only I was alone and you had me, and how lucky for you that I'm nice and don't just build you up to pull you right back down again,” you turned walking because you needed the distance, “go back if you can't see that we are the same,” 

“My first thought wouldn't have been to hurt someone I helped,” Kai kept pace with you, watching you pick up each one of his feathers as you went. 

“Just because I say I resist hurting you physically does not mean that what you say or think cannot hurt me. You want to freely throw your judgment around and stick a label onto me, reducing me to nothing but blood I did not ask to be born with and still you cannot see how we are exactly the same. We are only doing the same thing in different seasons, only one of us is plain as day and the other is hidden behind some thick smokescreen allowed in whatever game we have found ourselves,”  he could tell there was no room for argument with you. Set in some demon way that made you want to burn instead of heal. But even he knew he was just being bitter, proving you right even if he didn't say it out loud. 

He was grateful and he was upset, he had been a pot of water his whole life and it had never been set above a fire until right now and the bubbling was unwelcome and made him itch all over. He didn't see the reason for revenge when there was no way for him to get back up to the heavens without walking up the stairs and that would feel more shameful than coming back wingless. The only thing he could feel about the topic was that if it had been him or you he's not too sure that it would have been him you would have picked to help. But even he couldn't hide from the truth of wanting to pick himself every time. 

So he kept his mouth shut knowing there was nothing he could say that would make him look better and nothing he could say to make you look worse because faintly you were right about the both of you being so similar. He followed you like a lost puppy, watching you pick over the brush, collecting pieces of him until you found every part of the set to make enough of a picture. You were careful with them, fitting them all together in a neat stack and wrapping a loose string of thread around them to keep them from spilling all over again. 

By the time you two had combed most of the area, the sun was setting into nothing but stars. Two handfuls of feathers and a pit in Kai’s stomach made for little conversation. Keeping his eyes on his footfalls he did not see what it was that made you tense up until it was right there burning in the distance. 

A little ball of fire, dancing seemingly above nothing but the air. A Willo-the–wisp, bright enough to feel like a beacon one could not turn to look away from. But you hissed at the thing, reaching down to pick up a rock, smooth in your palm before you threw it. “Hey!” Kai's voice echoed in empty woods, previously the only sound heard was his crunching footsteps. Your years of walking down here had taught you how to keep yourself light as you made a journey this far out from your home. “See only proving my point, hurting things without reason, what did they ever do to you?” 

But you didn’t feel like explaining yourself to him, it felt silly to believe in rumors about the little creatures but it was impossible not to feel conflicted about bad signs when your life had been full of misfortune.  “Its bad luck to see them,” 

“Well it showed up there was no need to throw a rock at it, bad luck or not it was given the second it popped up,” his statement made you roll your eyes. What was there to do but watch the flame snuff out? It felt better to make the flame extinguish the second you saw it as if they were the thing that leached luck from you the longer they stayed around.  

“I'm not going to sit and let the death promiser dance around and curse me, or you for that matter, I don't know how I would pull your corpse from the cave if you were to die from the infection they wanted to warn you about,” you watched his face pale, your eyebrows lifting letting it known that you had seen that you had won written on him, “see, so let me throw stones, I'm doing it for both of us even if you don't believe it,” 

“It's only an omen, it doesn't mean anything real,” but he was trying to convince himself to fear the little flame, small and weak enough to be taken out by nothing but a pebble. 

“You know we have people who read the stars? Creatures deep in the sea, the woods, the kingdom, even your precious sky. They all have stories and folklore that came from some kind of truth,” you picked up another stone in case you saw another little flame lingering around not wanting to risk a sighting even if you could help it. 

“How are you planning on getting the feathers back on?” Kai wanted anything else but to talk about being the same or not, about folklore and truth. He was tired and didn't want to think about anything else besides what was supposed to come next. 

“Wax, I have lots of candles stored up that will do, if I get the layers thin enough it shouldn't weigh you down. It's also soft enough so that it won’t restrict any growth when they start to grow back,” it felt far away to think about having to go through the process of aging all over again, he had been through the phase of watching his feathers transition he did not want to wait again. The wax would give him an option, anything that would help to keep him from feeling as if he fell so far back from everything he had ever known. 

He wonders if you had thought through the same things with your wings before it was too late. If the idea for the wax had come before or after you buried your last option. He did not think it would be okay to ask that, not when you were helping him already. Demons being fickle was not uncommon; he wouldn't be surprised that you tossed him aside for something new to tinker with if given the option. Rather he gets as much information for you on how to help himself before you leave him with nothing at all. 

You showed him the way back up and down into the cave and for a sickening second, he thought you would push him while he looked for a way to make it down without landing in the water. Your hand had been on his back to steady him and yourself on the edge together. His flinching from your touch only registered as pain and not fear. You jumped down angeling yourself so that you landed right at the edge of the water and you looked up, stepping out of the way waiting for him to follow your lead. 

Kai pushed himself down feeling nothing but air for only a second but it was a second too long. He stumbled as soon as his legs hit the ground, leaning back and looking at you for a sickening moment before he was ready to accept falling back into the water, but you reached out making a fist in his shirt as his arms waved trying to find something to hold onto. The heels of his feet almost tipped him into the water, his wings shuddering and trying to pull in closer, hiding back away as if they could when this damaged. The buttons on the back started to pop with the strain of his weight and he had to reach out for you, hands wrapped around your forearm as you pulled him back to the safety of the sand. 

“You're very clumsy on your feet,” you muttered, pulling yourself away from him and his tight grasp. He was embarrassed but only because he was washed in fear and being caught for it on his face. 

“There was not one time you fell while jumping down?” he waved at the short distance that was available for him to land. 

“Once or twice but you get used to the angle and learn,” you don't put your bag down, not when you have to turn around to look for your candles, keeping your back covered even if now you knew he would do little to hurt you physically. Everything you had picked up from your conversations and just watching him walk around made you realize just how his label fits him so well. He had been more upset over the will-o-the-wisp than his own ruining. But it still didn't make you drop your guard. 

Finding your stack of candles you tucked them under your arm and turned to find Kai sitting in the sand all over again, looking out at the water and watching the way it swayed. He traced the dark outline of the opening leading out to the sea, hardly noticeable if you hadn't said there was a way out before. He would have believed there was only the two of you and not the world's ocean just a few feet away from him. So much just inches away from his tomb that he believed he would have been stuck in until someone found his heavy lead-lined bones. 

“We don't have to do it tonight if you don't want to,” your voice was soft as if you knew he was stuck in some darkness in his mind, struggling against the hold of some blanket of depression he had thrown over himself and couldn't find his way out of. “It would be better too because we need the light and I can hardly make a fire big enough to produce enough,” 

Light, once so easy to produce on the edge of his fingertips, wasted power on his childhood innocence trying to find ways to light up his bedroom when he was supposed to be sleeping. It had been easy back then and now sitting here wanting to get it all over with he couldn't get up enough energy to heat his skin. He was cold all over, blood leached, and hollow. Lifting his palm he focused in on his hands, the soft ridges tracing around the center supposed to be the lifeline or so he had been told. That was where he had always watched the light come from first, starting right at his wrist and working its way up curving between his thumb and pointer finger before it was nothing but light held in his hand like he had caught a star. 

Now it was nothing. Not a flicker of illumination nor a hum of warmth. He balled his fist clenching until he felt his nails digging into his supposed lifeline wishing that if he squeezed hard enough he could find a single drop of anything left in him. And still nothing. Not even enough to help him now when he wanted it, needed it most. “Tomorrow,” the word was a bitter thing, in his chest and making it sound rough with hatred. 

“It takes a bit to get back,” you tried not knowing why you didn't just curl up in your spot and wait for the rest of the sun to set so that you could sleep. Ignore him and his well-deserved mood. But you had done the same thing, sitting in the dark trying to make even the smallest flame and nothing would come, “I was never the best at lighting anything on fire, not even the blades of dry grass they let the little ones practice with,” 

Kai listened, watching you from the corner of his eye as you took a seat next to him, legs crossed just like his, your knee so close to hitting against him he could feel the heat from it. “I should have known then that I wasn't like the rest of them, tailless, hornless, powerless,” you gave a dry humorless laugh, fiddling with the candle sticks you had, letting them spill into your lap picking one only one up and examining the wick. He traced the side of your face, following the bridge of your nose right till the end and watching you blow so softly it wouldn't have taken down the light of a birthday candle. 

But a flame bloomed, catching on the wick, and dancing in the coming darkness. It lit up the features of your face, your eyes shining in the light as you watched the small reflection of your power. You had little to give, children had been playing with fire long since they were learning to crawl and you had only come to master a few tricks. “The only thing that had labeled me a demon were my wings, and they had been…” the edge of your lips wobbled, your jaw clenching closed at the itching in your throat as if this was even too much to say to him. “They had been beautiful,” it was said just as softly as the exhale you had done to light the candle, hardly there and weak. 

“I didn't even care about the fire, anyone can light a match or strike flint and create a spark. But…” 

“Not everyone can fly,” he could feel the way you struggled to say it as if it was traveling from his mind to yours. In the firelight he watched the tear fall, tacking down your cheek faster than you could wipe it away. But you caught it erasing it as if that would take your feelings away from you as if it would keep those intrusive memories from surfacing. Because no one would know how it felt to be that high, physically and mentally, unless they had been up there with you catching air with a laugh bubbling up from your chest like it was coming from a faucet that could never be turned off. 

You blew out the candle, sticking it in the sand and pushing yourself to stand, letting the rest of the candlesticks stay laid out for tomorrow. “Don't worry about what you don't have just yet and be thankful for what you're still holding onto. I'm going to bed.” No more was needed to be said when the two of you both knew it hurt too much to find yourself in the mix of confessions and shared sympathy. So you tossed your bag to the side, turning your back to the wall and closing your eyes so that you couldn't look at the blessing you had given him and hadn't received from anyone else. 

But it was incredibly hard, there was nowhere to look except him or the back of your eyelids and all you could see when you closed your eyes was the vision of you in the sky. It ached to remember and the pain was fresh looking at his new stitches that you had done even with his wings pulled in and sparse of feathers. Because he sat there at the edge of the water trying and failing to open his wings up again without your help this time. 

He could tell they were stiff and he was unfamiliar with the feeling. Before it had been second nature, his wings moving as his lungs did without the need for his mind but now that he focused on them it was like they couldn't work and wouldn't unless he focused on not paying any mind to them. But it was hard to do that when his healing stitches were itching and he was told over and over again by you not to touch them. So he sat there watching the water with his back to you as if that would keep him accountable for not messing up your hard work. 

All that was keeping him up was the promise of tomorrow when the sun would come out and you would help him put his feathers back even if he felt that it wouldn't work. In a way he worried it was too unnatural to work, that somehow it would just fail because it was not right, the wind would not agree and still, if it did work he had no intentions of going home. To go back with wings made of nothing but wax and thread felt like a lie of himself. Some imposter trying to pass as himself to fit back into the same life he had before. But with his wings stuck together like a forged abomination felt like he was never going to find himself comfortable there again. 

He didn't care if they took him in as he was, whispered behind his back, because he knew they would, and let him pretend that everything was the same when it so clearly was not. He knew little of the world below and even less of the world below that one from where you came from, leaving home would be an adjustment but necessary. He just needed his wings healed enough to hide them back inside of him wherever it was they unfurled from when he wanted them. It had been uncomfortable back in the heavens because there was no need to hide who you were. He would have to get used to the feeling but it would not be something as horrible as this ache was now. 

It wasn't until the morning, the sun just peeking over the edge of the cave's mouth that he realized he had not gotten any sleep at all. He listened to the water, the chitter of the animals in the distant woods, and the sound of your easy breathing while you dreamt. He wondered if you would have dreams of flying, if they hurt just as bad as the pain of knowing you never would fly again but he knew they must have been tethered feelings; unable to have one without the other. 

He pictured you over and over again in his head. Imagined you with your wings of night in the air next to him, that laugh you had turned his way unlike the one he heard but one he wished you would give him so that he would know something in his dream would be real. This laugh was somewhere caught between a giggle and a sprinkle of light from his fingertips. He locked in on thinking of the laugh over the feeling of flying because it was impossible to not hurt when thinking of the air. But you, thinking of you, felt safe even if it was some kind of hope caught in a dream. 

Because you would never fly again he knew that much because you were so certain of it. He had known of people who wanted to mimic the feeling of flight. Making things out of clockwork and magic as if it would help them but that felt worse than having to go home stitched up. To walk in with wings not even close to the ones you owned, or were born with, felt like the worst kind of death. You wouldn't have even known that you had died, that the only thing keeping your body animated and moving were the strings of your delusion tied so tight around your joints that you never got a chance to look down and realize this was not you at all. 

So he tried to grasp that laugh because it was the only thing that felt close to real; the only thing that felt close to happening at all even with all the distant hope he was supposed to be having. And when you woke you could see it all over him, the failure written on every inch of him. It fueled an anger you had not felt in years, the simmering pot inside you turned up to boiling over nothing more than an empty glance. 

You kept to yourself, let him stay seated by the water, and went about to find the two of you food. And it wasn't until the two of you had eaten that you set into getting yourself ready for the long days work waiting for you. Candle in hand you watched him look back out over the water and you couldn't take it anymore. Kicking at the sand you watched the grains puff up in a plume around his legs his hands waving away the dust, brows scrunched as he scowled at you, “Stop looking as if I'm a failure already,” 

“I didn't say anything,” but he knows what you're talking about, the thought had infected him and was spreading as rapidly as the infection you had warned him would happen if he touched his back. 

“You didn't have to say anything, trust me if saving your life meant little to me I wouldn't have done it in the first place, I wouldn't waste my time,” you grab the handfuls of feathers, his eyes locking in on them in hand. 

“You have nothing better to do,” he didn't mean to say it but it was true he felt it and it made him believe it was the only reason why you were helping him. Because you were bored here, sitting in a cave doing nothing that he could see because there was nothing to do but sit. He had made it so that you had something to do. In a moment you would turn him away and tell him not to come back, to find someone else willing to help him. But you wouldn't let him give up on you. 

“No, I don't but I could have done anything else besides this. Hell it might be more fun watching you fall again than it would be to watch you actually fly but I guess we won't know unless we try,” but Kai’s scowl was back and it was better than seeing him feel nothing at all. 

“Why would you say that? You know what it's like-” 

“Exactly why would I help you for nothing at all but boredom? I wouldn't help if I didn't want to see you succeed, I wouldn't be doing this at all I would have let you die. So stop wasting my limited kindness and accept my effort without believing it will lead to nothing but failure,” 

“You would do that, wouldn't you?” because it had caught on him, the idea of being watched as he fell again by someone who would enjoy it. Unlike the first time, it would be worse, he would never come back from that fall, because even if he had forgiven the person who had pushed him he had known the second he felt their foot on his spine that it had been out of pure evil, if it were you doing all this just to watch him fail again it would be worse and there would be no forgiveness. “Build me up only to prove I should never fly again,” 

“You are incredibly cynical,” you blow on your candle, watching the flame heat the ivory colored wax so close to matching the color of his feathers. “Did you ever think that maybe I want you to succeed? That it would help me see you make it out of here more yourself than I ever would have left this place?” you stand behind him, pushing back the first row of feathers as gently as you can before placing the feather over the node you knew a new one would find to grow. You tilt the candle just enough until the wax drips, translucent dots pattering around the area as you watch the way they dry the color blending in perfectly. You let the feather go watching the way it sticks and stayed in place, right where it looked like it had never been gone. 

Kai could not feel the process, not when he was lost in his thoughts. He tried to separate the knowledge of you being a demon away from the proof he had of you being nothing more than someone who was lost. The two could be synonymous is what he reminds himself over again. He had his back to you and was hoping you wouldn't shove a knife right through him but that didn't mean he wasn't worried. 

He did not bring up his thoughts again, he let you work and passed himself off as being hopeful when it was the last thing he felt he was. He was grateful that you cared enough to try even if he believed you had ulterior motives but he would not say out loud that he had any hope when it was not true and if it was it felt wrong to jinx it. 

And so you worked, the slow repetitive motions evening out your heartbeat. And even when the wax fell to your fingers you did not flinch, taking the slight burn and continuing. Even Kai did not back away from the fallen wax when the sparse drops landed on his back. Anything was better than the pain he had felt before and now this felt pleasant, trembling from the shock the first time and accepting any other spot that made itself known to him. 

Then the two of you began to talk, small things that felt so insignificant when you were alone. His first question filled up the silence, “What's your favorite color?” you had not been asked in years something so lighthearted, there was no need to have a favorite when you wouldn't seek it out. 

“I don't know,” you had shrugged, dripping the wax over the next feather in the lineup. By midday, you had done one whole wing. The way the feathers overlapped made it so that you never even saw the wax since most of the top feathers had stayed in place. 

“You don't know? How could you not know your favorite color?” It was hard to explain to him how it didn't matter because Kai would take nothing short of an answer he saw as being good enough. He asked again, asked what it had been like when you were a child, and he listened as you tried to explain.  Answering his own questions and trying to take everything off his mind besides you and who you were. 

He asked you everything and anything he could think of until it was too late and the only thing he could think about was the fact you had stopped and were looking over his stitches again. “Is it bad?” 

“No,” it was the opposite of bad, he healed exceedingly fast because of his angel blood, the once torn flesh already looking a day away from having the stitches removed. “It's doing well, but I ran out of feathers for your right wing,” 

“Oh,” he felt like he had been deflated, his shoulders already bent forward so that you could have the best access to his back and he did not think he could sag anymore, yet he did. Periodically as you added more feathers in you would tap your wax-coated fingertip against his spine asking him to stretch his wings out. In the length of a day, he felt stronger and more like himself as the time passed. He could hold the weight of his wings up fine even with the thread still pulling him together bit by bit. And now he couldn't even finish what had been started. 

You had not thought before you spoke up next, the words spilling out as easily as the continued answers to his constant questions, “I still have a few from my wings if you don't mind the color,” but once it was said it felt right. You had no need for the feathers anymore, the only thing they did was bring you pain. They should have been buried right along with the rest of your wing and now you knew that there was some reason out there why you had kept them besides the reminder of a painful past. If they could help it felt right just as it felt right the second you pulled him out of the moon pool. You could give them up because in some way healing him was healing you. What better than to let your feathers fly again when you could not? 

And Kai did not mind, not when now he was itching to fly again, the hope somehow filtering into him the second you had told him to stretch his wings out again, to try. He let you put the feathers on, looked at the glossy ink color, and had not turned away because now he was tying the strings of his delusion on and he could not bring himself to stop. 

You did not feel loss this time around when seeing your past spilled out in a heap in your lap as you took wax to each one, fastening it to the angel boy's wing to give him one last chance that you wish you could have had. It felt cathartic, watching the way the colors contrasted and blended so well together. Your fingers ran over the line of them the second you had finished. A soft sad smile on your lips as you told Kai to stretch one final time before trying to fly. 

It felt so sudden, so soon from the last time he had taken flight. He hadn't even realized it was his last time at least before the fall. He wondered if you remembered your last time, what it had been like, and if it felt just as insignificant to you as it had to him. Wondered what you would have preferred your last flight to have felt like, where you would have gone. But the thoughts were a distraction to him trying to fly now. 

Kai stretched his wings, the white expanse only broken up by the tip of black at the end of his right wing. He couldn't remember what it felt like to lift off the ground instead of hurtling towards it but then he felt it, his heels lifting first, and the soft beat of his wings echoing in the small space. You stood back watching with a blank expression, tingling all over because you couldn't believe you had done it. He was up, the tips of his shoes just hitting the stirring sand before he felt his wings give out.

Shouting he fell, the distance nothing but a foot but feeling like he had come crashing all the way back down the side of a mountain. His back ached but not from pain but the strain of weakness. “You can try again tomorrow, we just have to keep at it even if it's a little bit every day,” Kai had fallen to his knees, looking up at you with his slumped shoulders and puppy dog eyes. 

“Thank you,” the words still tumbled into you, but it was easier to accept when the fruits of your labor were still right at the forefront of your mind. He had flown even if it was just a foot, it had been more than what either of you had expected. You had worried of his stitches ripping, worried of the feathers falling with only a few beats of wind and they had not, both holding stronger than your conviction. 

Your smile could not be contained, the edges of your mouth trying to hold it back like a stranger at the door because it had been far too long since the last time you felt this happy about anything. “It worked,” disbelief made itself known in your tone but Kai was just as surprised. He did not care at that moment if he got any higher off the ground, only that he did not have to lose so much of himself. “It worked,” he mimicked his smile wobbling as he fought back his tears, “it worked,” 

It was the way he said it last that hit home. You did not think about it hurting so bad to see him succeed, jealousy thick and alive in your blood. You wanted that feeling, you wanted those words to come from you not just from being an aid but from being the project. The words were felt all throughout you as he whispered them, just enough to watch the stress of never again flying dissipate into nothing but happiness. He had been empty and you had tipped in a bucket of everything you had to give, he had gained so much and you lost more than you had to offer him. 

There was nothing more to call it besides envy; sickening jealousy. If you could rip the wings right off his back and give them to yourself in that split second you would have. It was not productive but it was the only thing you could see when you looked at him. But you shook your head as if you had been caught in the rain and needed to get the water from your hair, pushing the thoughts to the side. You would never have what he did, no way for you to have given yourself the chance in the way that you had given it to him. 

So you squashed the feeling, talked yourself out of the need to cry once the two of you had laid down. Your back to the wall again as you look at him with that faint smile on his lips because he was getting to sleep peacefully since the first time he had come here without the aid of his pain. The outline of his wings in the darkness made them look just like a shadow behind him. And it was so hard not to cry as soon as you knew he was asleep. Wanted to turn and face the wall to give yourself the illusion of privacy in your struggle to keep the burn in your throat from turning into a sob you had fallen into to fitful sleep. 

What had awoken Kai was the strain in your voice, the way you muttered, again and again, the word no, the noise of it getting louder and louder until it was impossible to ignore the sound as if it was nothing more than the hum of a mourning bird's song. He opened his eyes and there you were on your makeshift bed, your face pressed into the blanket, your back turned to the sky and you reached back trying to scratch at your shoulder blades. But even in sleep, he could see the way it pained you, hands only just brushing over your shoulders when you found yourself pinned down in sleep. You were whining, crying in your sleep, and it was full of pain. 

Because in your sleep you had dreamt of that first night without your wings. You could not lay on your side, could not lay any other way but with your face to the ground like they were pulling your wings from you all over again. Back facing the sky praying that they didn't come in because you had no strength to turn over, no strength in you except to try and restrain yourself from scratching at the healing wounds, unaided by careful stitches. 

It had been a long time since you had felt the dream so real that it made you believe there was something wrong with your back. Because you were somewhere on the edge of your dream telling yourself it was real, that the pain was right there at the surface and you didn't know it unless you woke up. If only you could just wake up instead of struggling as you had back then. And when you looked to your side there was no kai, just the outline of that wing, the one you had to pull off there dead and waiting for its burial. 

But Kai would not let you sleep through it, not let you scratch at your shoulders and wade through the dreamscape colored in nothing but the shade of a nightmare. He grasped your sleeping hand, the one fluttering at your back like a moth to a flame and curled his fingers between yours. Your hands fit neatly against his, locking in place as if you had been reaching out for him the whole time. His free hand was at your lower back, keeping away from the top where he knew you were trying to reach. And when your eyes opened your gasp followed the way you shot up, back pressed back to the wall and you tried to cure the burning. 

You knew this feeling, the momentary ghost wings pretending they still had feelings for which could be hurt. Everything about you felt as if it was shaking, like a rattling cabinet of glass in an earthquake because your world was shaking at your feet telling you something was wrong but you couldn't tell what it was. “It's okay it was only a nightmare,” Kai tried to sooth, thumb running over the back of your hand that he held in both of his. 

In your dream you had been alone, so much of it had been like it always was. Pain circling around everything you had come to know. But now there had been pain but the faint hurt that Kai had not been there to help you. As if he could go back in time and do what you had for him even if it was no use you had just wanted him to be there next to you. But he hadn't been and in the mix of the sobs you had found his name and prayed he would hear because if they were your dreams you should have been able to grab them by the neck and control them, not follow them down the dark hall that felt neverending. 

But waking up to know he had been here the whole time, knowing that if he had been there he would have helped just the same, settled something inside you that had been overrun with worry. You unfurled your arms from around yourself, throwing them around Kai’s neck and pulling him into a hug. 

He did not freeze up under your hold but melted into you, sliding his hands around your back and pulling you closer to him, your face pressed into the space between his throat and his collarbone. He hadn't known how much a hug would have helped him just as it was helping you. You were warm and clinging to him in a way no one had ever needed him. 

Kai could have sat like that with you in his arms until the sun came up and you would have let him because you needed to be closer and needed something that only he could give you. Your fingers ran through his hair, his hands sliding down your lower back pulling you to straddle his hips because he needed you chest to chest, needed to feel the weight of you against them to make sure that he knew it was real just the same as you did. “You're okay,” he whispered the words, a hammer against the dam you had walled up in place to keep you from ever getting close to anyone ever again. 

It was so quick you are unsure why it was your instant reaction. Your lips kissed over the mole he had right along the column of his throat. The feeling of his words pressed right to your mouth when he hummed your name. Everything was so much easier to do in the half dark, the room alight in that blue glow of the water, the moon still high in the sky as he slipped his hands under your shirt, cool against your heated skin and only making you arch further into him, hips sinking as you kissed up his neck. 

Neither of you stopped the other from the exploration, you curled your fingers in his hair right at the base of his neck and he found any expanse of skin that he could let his fingers touch. And when you finally made your kisses stop right at the edge of his lips he couldn't help but turn his head, chasing after your mouth with his desperate desire to get lost in you. Because once you started neither of you could pull yourself away from stopping. 

He tasted like nothing short of twinkling light filling the darkness that you had let wash over you for far too long. His soft moans caught in your mouth with each drag of your hips now perfectly placed over him and his wanting need. It was the only way to describe the way he was feeling, he did not just want you, he needed you, so hard from just a few devouring kisses that you couldn’t resist. 

You pulled away for only a second standing so that you could take the few clothes you had on off. Kai sitting there watching in awe as you peeled off your shirt, his hands itching to have you back on him with no layers between the two of you, chest to chest but closer now being skin to skin. He reached out for your hips pulling you closer to him so that he could rest his chin on your stomach, looking at you like the fallen angel he was, like you were the only savior he had written in his stars. 

He let his lips pepper over you, your hands brushing the hair from his brow, his fingers dipping into your waistband holding the fabric in a way that asked you for permission to tug them down and off. “Please,” he whispered check pressed to your hip, “I need you,” and you would give him everything he asked for if he continued looking at you in that way as if nothing in the world mattered but you at this moment, not your blood or cruel words, just a boy and a girl seeking out the pleasure of another. 

You let him take your pants off just as easily as he had let you tug him free from his. And when you sank onto him, took all of him in with a gasp at the stretch working its way through you, nothing had felt more right. Because he was curving into you, your lips were his only salvation as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth on him. His face washed in the pleasure of having you his hands growing warmer and warmer as they held your back. You did your best to avoid his stitches, ignoring his wings that twitched along with his body every time you found a new slow rhythm to move to. 

The angle the two of you had was grinding against your pleasure point, your moans so sweet and rumbling against him. He traced up the line of your spine with one hand, keeping the other wrapped around your back to make sure you stayed in the circle of space the two of you had created. You whimpered when he brushed over the scars on your back but did not pull away, letting him have a part of you that you would never give to anyone else because he knew what it was like, he knew what it meant, this level of trust rushing into you almost as fast as your coming orgasm. And right behind him the soft blue light of a will-o-the-wisp on the water, gone as quickly as it had come into your field of vision but you would not have cared in that moment anyway. 

Both of you neared the end, and when you came, the feeling in your belly took all the space to think because it had been reduced to feeling only him and the pleasure he was giving you. His hands felt hot and alive with the power he had believed had been lost to him as you trembled in his hold, swallowing down each little noise you made. He guided you down to the blanket stretched out on the sand, rocking his hips now chasing after his own high watching the hazy look wash over your face as you held onto his shoulders. And behind him his wings spread covering the two of you in that safe space you had craved more than anything, his panting breaths pressed to your neck as he spilled all he had into you. 

You could only focus on him and the way he brought you the closest you had ever felt to being whole again. Wrapped up in nothing but him was close to being saved because you both knew how similar you were and to be seen like this, to be understood, was healing all on its own and you welcomed everything he had to offer. You would let him take you again and again because you felt linked, the jealousy washed away because being held like this was enough to sedate the torment you had found yourself subjected to being here alone for so long. 

And in the morning, when the sun came in on the new day you never felt as excited to see the light as you did in that moment. Because Kai was grinning looking over at you knowing what it meant. He would go out and try again and again until he knew that he could fly even if it took time but here starting today would be the beginning and he would be starting it all with you at his side. 

He did not need help out of the cave's mouth this time, pulling himself up as easily as if he had been doing it his whole life. And he stood, looking out over the water below him and knowing that if he fell he had you there willing to pull him out if he needed it. He looked to the sky the second you pulled yourself up next to him, his wings spreading out and beating softly enough to draw your attention. “We don't have to start so high up. I know it's a short distance to the ground and it won't hurt much if you fall but just in case it might be better to go to the beach,” 

He should have listened to you but he was too excited to think about where he was when all he wanted to do was fly. “Just this once and we can go to the beach and try again if not,” he reached his hand out at his side, low enough to find yours and your welcome squeeze in support. 

“It's okay if you don't get up too high so long as they can carry your weight that's the main issue at the moment because of the stitches,” Kai nodded along half listening as he focused in on the clouds. He pulled your hand to his mouth, kissing the back of it before letting it go once more before trying. 

Both of you held your breath, the seconds passing slowly as you waited for his heels to lift again only this time it was so much higher, Kai was rising, each beat of his wings only raising him and widening your smile. You had done it, you had made him fly again and it didn't hurt but made you elated. 

Kai could feel the wind welcoming him, pushing him up and up until he could see nothing but the expanse of blue and you were gone. It was that thought that had him going back. He could have spent all day up there if he could, if he knew that it wouldn't hurt him if he pushed himself so far but thinking of you watching him without being able to feel it tore into him. He flew back down landing right where he had started and laughed like it had caught him by surprise. 

And he looked at you, his arms open enough for you to run into them, that smile you wore was going to be tattooed along the insides of his eyelids because it was the only thing we wanted to see. Because you had done this for him, you had given him his flight back, his hope, and wrapped in nothing but sarcasm and truth because it was your way. So he hugged you tight, kissed you until your arms were locked around him just right and he took you with him. 

It had only been in dreams that you felt the faint feeling of being weightless. The wind hits your face as you let the laugh bask in the morning sun with you. It had been everything Kai had wanted, his dreams coming to reality as he caught the wind to carry the two of you higher and higher, until it felt as if you both would be made of nothing but clouds and happiness. He knew what it meant to be up in the sky like this again for you and knew that it would never be much of a thank you in return for what you have given back to him. 

And when he found a place to be steady, beating wings behind him, no pain in sight as the two of you looked out over the green and blue land and water below you. He held you close, arms keeping you up and in place even with your dangling feet picking up the memory of what it had been like before when you were a child with nothing to be scared of because you had not been wronged yet, you had only been a girl with wings happy to be in the air. 

Kai pressed his forehead to yours, nose dipping and bumping your cheek as he kissed the edge of your smile. And it didn't matter anymore if you felt weak, or had been told it was all that you had ever been because you had saved someone worthy of being saved, picking up yourself along the way and flying through him when flying was only a word thrown around to hurt you. You had put his wings back when they had been nothing but torn flesh and nothing made you feel this good, only the knowledge that you knew he would take you again if you asked. 

The trail of your fingers did not cross your mind when you felt this good, your subconscious working over the thoughts you were having and putting together the puzzle you had made by following the seam of his stitches. You could feel the knot you had tied to secure the wing in place, the spot you would have to cut away when pulling the thread free after you had checked again that his fast healing had done its job. 

But the ghosting of your touch on the closed wound was akin to you pushing him into a frozen lake, the ice breaking beneath him and reminding him just how heavy he had been when he had nothing behind him to support his body. It was the fear mixed with your words that you had said what felt like ages ago, as if when the two of you had shared then you had been different people. But here at his core, he felt it, that foreboding and gut-turning maggots wiggling into his skin and poisoning his already made-up mind. ‘Hell it might be more fun watching you fall again than it would be to watch you actually fly but I guess we won't know unless we try,’ you had said those words, he had rolled them over in his head over and over again because it had not sit right with him, but he could not remember the rest of the conversation, not when your fingers were messing with the stitches right on his back like you were fulfilling a promise. 

It had been quick, the intrusive thought taking over because all he could think again was that you two were similar. He would have helped you yes but if it had been him or you at the bottom of the water and both of you had to pick who got their wings back he would not hesitate to make sure he felt this feeling again. And having you here, threat alive in his mind he could not help himself from leaning into the cruelty if it meant saving this. 

And so he let you go. 

When in his arms it had been the illusion of flying, still grounded to him just by holding on but falling from this height was even closer to the feeling of flying. The wind rippled around you as you fell in slow motion, his sweet angelic face washed in shock at what he had done and all you could do was think about how you would forgive him because you knew that if it had been you in his place, demon or angel, you would have done the same. 

You did not feel heavy, you felt free and the laughter echoed around Kai as he realized his mistake. His fear had control over him in ways he had not expected it to and his shouting did nothing to make it any closer to you as he tried to catch up to your falling form hurtling closer to a waiting grave that had once had a tombstone with his name written on it. You had missed this feeling of freefall and descent, missed the open arms of the wing kissing your skin in the same way Kai’s hands had only the night before. 

And then the feathers started to rain. A few white tumbled down along with you as you looked up at him, wax melting from being so close to the sun for only a short time. The edge of his right wing was still tipped in black as if your feathers had infected his mind and thoughts as if they had been the cause of the drop and not the sickening worry he had of losing everything that had just been returned to him. But you could not stop yourself from thinking again of the story you had been told as a child. That demons had been the same as angels, cast out for the bitterness lingering in their near-empty hearts. You two were the same, cast out, and only now did he truly see it. 

The last of his feathers started to come free, his control over his wings lessening as the two of you fell, the sky a perfect image of just you and him with feathers all around as it had always been. The spotting of inky black feathers floating around you, finally ready to be buried alongside the body they had come from. You reached out, Kai’s hand already trying to find anything on you to grasp but was just far enough to miss by the brush of his fingertips. The expanse of blue widens around you and is impossible to tell if you were rising in the sky or sinking closer to the waiting ocean. 

If falling felt like flying you would welcome the feeling because anything was better than nothing at all. 

<333 thank you to @beomiracles who wrote the opening paragraph that is italicized for this event so that we could all start on the same page- taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire @no1likemybbgcharlie @chasingthatjjunie @taegyutomorrow @izzyy-stuff @yeoningz @filmnings @jellymochii @dawngyu @bamgyuuuri @lickingan0rchid @felixleftchickennugget @thetxtdevil @luvsicktyun @hyukascampfire @prince-jjae @liverspaghett want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join!want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[honnelander]

go fish! finale part 1

here we are... the beginning of the end! crazy to say, even crazier to actually put in a post!! lol here is part 1 of the finale (sorry i'm splitting up the finale into parts but... it's going to be so massive i'd rather put something out there) thank you to everyone who has loved this story, supported it, and supported me. just know that i appreciate it all more than you know, and i hope that this delivers... sorry if i missed anyone who wanted to be tagged :(

WARNINGS: none

word count: 2.3k

pairing: opla!sanji x reader

summary: things are finally coming to a crux for Sanji and reader....

prequel part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4 masterlist

@mischiefmanaged71 @smolracoon25 @smol-book-nerd @shuujin @amanda08319 @nimtano @your-platonic-gay-lover @lovelymrvl @whiskeypowder @jovialcat123 @xtigerlily @shadowwolf1864 @quixscentsposts @guidingstarsstuff @ateliefloresdaprimavera @chexmixtrys @princettecharlie @amitydoodlez @the-maladaptive-daydreamers @abracarabbit @commanderfreethatdust @lordbugs @sweet-little-nothings @geisterfvhrer @kenkenmaaa @dazaisfavgf @fan-goddess @shadydeanmuffin @cherrypie5 @sauceonmyshorts @hhighkey @gimmebackmyskeeball @he4vens-ang3l @selcouthaesthetics @sapphireonline @dory-98 @redskull199987@teenyforestfairy @acupnoodle@strwberryii @luna0713hunter @tinydonkeysforlife @rand0m--fangirl @stevenknightmarc@asianfrustration13 @simp-sentral @dankchikorita @jollysemroger @gaslysainz @oh-worm-yee-haw @browneyedhufflepuff @randomgurl2326 @witchofremnants @browneyedhufflepuff @gothicuwusposts @alitaar @mylovelyreblogs @witchofremnants @feelinmatcha

@taro-gabi @silkflwr @justalittleweirdsometimes-deact @daydreamer-in-training @lazygirlfanfic0-0 @dark-academia-slut @olliesoxenfree @svnwcn @christinaatyourservice92 @andystweets @ohsilk @raythecomputerart @hyeon-yi @mugiwarasoul19 @atanukileaf @deserticwren @shidoumari-chan @writing-fanics @emmbny @gothsquash @lotus-sukimono @slytherinambitious @moreover-clover @inthemoonway @wonuskie @rebeccawinters @maybe-a-bi-witch @aaubin @queen-of-elves @plastichearts @onebatch--twobatch @callsignwidow @nixtape-foryou @nervousmumbling @basicallyabot @tr4shygrrl @decadenthumanalienranch-blog @lexingtoon @always-anything-but-ordinary @alphaash99 @mossy-mika @nehkookie @spaceface25 @thehighlordishere @certain-tragedies

Sanji was getting desperate.  

The longer he went without telling you he loved you, that he was completely enamored with every part of your entire soul and being, that your existence gave him a reason to live and keep on breathing, the more he felt himself go absolutely insane.  

He felt like a little kid on Christmas morning, sitting in front a mountain of presents but not being able to open them because it ‘wasn’t time to open them yet’, and that’s exactly how he felt with his situation with you: there was nothing more he wanted to do than to tell you he was in love with you, but he knew that it wasn’t the right time just yet. He didn’t want to just flat out say ‘I love you’ while you both were doing some rudimentary task or chore, or offhandedly one night while you both were doing the dishes after supper. He wanted something more than that, something special and extravagant.  

You were the love of his life, and you deserved everything under the sun and more, so he wanted to make this very intimate and private moment between you two as special as he could, and that required some serious planning and patience on his part.  

So, after his conversation with Nami a few days ago, her letting him vent out all of his frustrations and apprehensions he had with her, practicing saying those three special words numerous times so when the moment was right with you, they would just roll off the tongue, and some planning, he was ready to confess his feelings to you. 

But something was wrong.  

You were avoiding him and he had absolutely no idea why. 

At first, he thought he was imagining things, that it was all in his head, but he should’ve known something was up when you didn’t come to dinner the first night. 

Sanji had finished putting the last plate of food on the table, the rest of the crew already sitting down, ready to dig in, when he cast another glance at your empty spot at the table. It was weird, you were always the first one to show up to dinner too, always arriving early to lend him a helping hand or to help set up the table, and you were always the last one to leave, either due to being a slow eater or to help him clean up and do the dishes together. The unofficial dinner time routine you both shared was something he cherished and never took for granted; it was his favorite part of the day because he knew he always got to spend that time with you regardless of the day’s events. 

But that daily routine had been broken. That first night, which was coincidentally on the same day where he had his big talk with Nami, you were missing, and it didn’t sit right with him. 

“Where’s y/n?” He asked aloud to no one in particular, still standing, one hand on the back of his chair and a perplexed look on his face.  

“Oh, she’s not coming,” Luffy said casually as he started eating, like you missing dinner was a normal thing. 

It was, in fact, not normal. Not to Sanji. “What?” he asked, his eyes widening slightly. “Why? Is she ok?” he asked quickly, his mind starting to race at the idea that something was wrong with you. 

“I guess so,” Luffy said, shrugging. “She seemed fine to me.” 

Sanji exhaled a resigning sigh through his nose as he begrudgingly sat down. He didn’t really like Luffy’s answer, since the guy had a habit of missing important social nuances in conversations, but he had no choice. So, he ate his dinner halfheartedly, suddenly losing his appetite.  

After dinner, when he was cleaning up the kitchen solo, he made sure to put together a plate of leftovers for you and placed it in the oven so it would be warm for whenever you were ready to eat. 

But the next morning, when he checked the oven and saw the now overcooked and burnt plate of food still in there, untouched, Sanji felt his chest tighten... and not in a good way. Maybe you didn’t know the food was in there? 

So, when you didn’t show up to dinner on the second night, Sanji followed the same routine as he did the night before, but this time he left a note on the counter with your name on it, detailing instructions on how to reheat the food he had lovingly prepared for you so it wouldn’t burn just in case you were having a midnight meal.  

That following morning, he felt a bit better when he went into the kitchen, figuring that his plan worked, but when he saw his note in the exact same position where he had left it, he had a sinking feeling in his stomach. His suspicions were confirmed when he opened the oven door and saw the now cold and ruined plate of leftovers just sitting there again, untouched, he let out a small breath of disbelief.  

He hated wasting food, it was one of his core principles as a person and a chef, but he hated the thought of you not eating even more. 

On the third night of you not showing up to dinner, Sanji had enough. 

“Alright, where is she?” he asked standing before the dinner table holding the main dish of the evening, not moving to put it down, his voice devoted of his usual good humor and pleasant attitude and replaced with a sterner tone, like a parent who’s had enough of their child’s antics and just wanted the truth. “Where’s y/n?” 

Unfortunately, Zoro was the one to speak up. “She’s fine.” 

Sanji scoffed, letting out a humorless, disbelieving breath as he shook his head once. He could barely believe what he was hearing- that you missing dinner more than once was anything but normal. “Oh, really, mosshead? ‘She’s fine’?” He looked back at the swordsman, an edge to his voice, sharp like one of his many kitchen knives, as he asked, “You think her missing dinner for three nights in a row is her ‘being fine’?” 

“Whoa, keep your pants on, waiter,” Zoro bit back. “I’m just telling you what she told me. What’s your problem?” 

“My problem,” the chef started, his voice rising slightly as his mouth twisted into a cynical smile, “is that y/n has missed dinner for three days now, and none of you seem to care.” 

“Hey, that’s not fair, we care!” Usopp said defensively. “But ever since she started writing her book, she’s been so busy-” 

In hearing that, Sanji immediately felt all of his anger and annoyance evaporate, instantly feeling empty, his insides turning into ice. He felt his body go rigid, feeling like he just got kicked in the stomach, the air knocked out of his lungs. A beat passed as he tried his hardest to control his face and contain his emotions. The last thing he wanted was the crew commenting on his body language, he was already dealing with enough. His hands gripped the dish in his hand harder, his knuckles going white. Sanji felt another wave of pain stab itself in his chest. He swallowed thickly, trying to push down his emotions as he slowly asked, “She’s... writing a book?” 

At once, the room became awkward as the rest of the straw hats exchanged looks with each other. It was pretty obvious to everyone that you and Sanji were close to (in love with) each other, so for you not to tell him something as monumental as this was incredibly weird and out of character. 

“Yeah, man...” Usopp answered slowly, shifting in his chair uncomfortably. “She started it a couple of days ago... she didn’t tell you?” he asked tentatively, looking up at the crestfallen cook.  

Sanji felt the knife in his chest twist at Usopp’s question as he looked down at the dinner plate in his hands, pursing his lips momentarily. “Uh... no. No, she, uh...didn’t.” He breathed out a light, dejected laugh, looking back up at the rest of the crew with a small, fake smile, trying to pretend that everything was alright and normal between you two, when it was far from it. “I guess she forgot to tell me.” 

But Zoro was never one to beat around the bush. “Or maybe she’s just avoiding you.” 

Immediately, the room became silent. It was like all the air got sucked out of the room and no one dared to say a thing. 

Well, except for Luffy. “What?” the straw-hat captain started, shaking his head once with a slight disbelieving smile. “What do you mean Zoro?” he asked as he looked to his left at his first mate. “Why would y/n be avoiding Sanji?” 

"Well,” Zoro started, picking up his drink. “It’s pretty obvious that those two are basically joined at the hip,” he said, taking a quick swing of his beer, “so it’s just weird that she wouldn’t tell him something like this.” 

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean she’s avoiding him exactly,” Nami reasoned on Sanji’s behalf, flashing a sympathetic look towards the chef before looking back at her green-haired crewmate. 

“Exactly,” the cook nearly ground out, an edge to his words as he continued, “you have no idea what you’re talking about mosshead.” 

But Zoro was unconvinced. “Oh yeah?” He turned his attention to Sanji and with a quirked brow asked, “When’s the last time you spoke to her?” When Sanji opened his mouth to reply, Zoro cut him off. “And I mean a real conversation. Something that lasted more than five seconds.” 

Sanji just stood there, closing his mouth as he felt the ice in his veins spread. He swallowed. “Thursday.” 

The swordsman tipped his beer towards him. “And today’s Sunday,” he said in a matter-of-fact way. “That’s three whole days of her avoiding you.” 

“Ok but, why would y/n be avoiding Sanji?” Usopp asked, looking around at his fellow straw hats, his face twisted in confusion. When nearly all of them shrugged, he looked over at Sanji. “Did something happen between you two?” 

The former line cook shrugged, letting out a small breath of frustration and helplessness as he looked down at the full plate in his hands again, a sardonic smile on his face. Since when did his private relationship with you turn into an open aired discussion? “I don’t think that’s any of your business-” 

“Wait,” Zoro spoke up, cutting Sanji off. He looked at Usopp. “They were weird before. Remember that poker game the other day and she blew him off?” 

Immediately, Usopp’s eyes widened in remembrance as he snapped his fingers. “OH yeah! You’re right! Now that was weird.” 

“Now that I’m thinking about it all,” Zoro said, lifting his beer up to his mouth to hide his ghost of a smile. “I think this all started happening after that night at the bar.” 

“Yeahhhh,” Usopp drawled, nodding in agreement with Zoro’s assessment. “I think you’re onto something swordsman.” He rubbed the back of his neck, gaze looking off to the side like he was deep in thought. “I don’t remember much from that night, because you know, Captain Usopp likes to party, but weren’t they going to kiss or something?” 

Nami’s eyes widened as she shot daggers at the sharpshooter. “Usopp!” she hissed. 

But that did nothing to deter or shut this whole conversation down. Instead, Usopp’s brazen comment just fueled the discussion even more like striking a match and dropping into a bunch of dry kindling. 

Sanji felt his body stiffen. He suddenly felt like his soul was disassociating from his body as he watched and heard the crew continue to talk about the most intimate moment of his life in front of him like it was just another successful pirate raid or rescue attempt gone wrong. 

“Yeahhh,” Zoro agreed, nodding slightly as a sly smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “I remember that,” he added before taking another swing of his drink. 

“Wait- what? Sanji and y/n kissed?” Luffy asked, his brows knitted together as he looked between his first mate and sharpshooter quizzically.  

“No, they didn’t,” Usopp replied. Suddenly, Usopp sat up, his eyes bright like he had just solved the world’s greatest mystery. “Unless,” he started, waggling a finger at Sanji. “Unless... you guys did kiss, never talked about it, and now it’s like- super weird between you two!” 

“Ah, that makes sense,” Zoro commented. 

“Guys,” Nami warned loudly. “Just drop it. You both have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

But before anyone could say anything else, Sanji slammed dropped the main dish for the evening in the middle of the table unceremoniously, with a lot more force than necessary, immediately silencing the table.  

“No, please continue,” Sanji bitterly encouraged as he straightened up and put his hands in his pockets, eyes trained at the table. “I would love for everyone to just- keep discussing a private relationship that has absolutely nothing to do with them, and to keep putting their two cents in.” When the table kept quiet, Sanji looked up, glancing at each of the members sitting there with eyes full of venom, daring them to say something else, but their eyes looked down or away from him in silent shame. Sanji scoffed. “Oh, what happened? Lost your nerve? Suddenly we’re all silent and have nothing to say?” 

Usopp shifted in his chair slightly as he tentatively looked over at the enraged chef, his voice somber. “Sanji, we didn’t-” 

But Sanji didn’t want to hear it. “Save it,” he spat, effectively silencing Usopp. “Enoy your fucking meal.” He shoved his chair into the table, causing everyone to flinch except for Zoro, rattling everything before making his way towards the deck to have a smoke. “And clean up everything yourselves tonight,” he called out as he pulled out his cigarette tin and lighter. “I’m done.”

[doitforbangchan]

All Bark and No Bite 09

Yall this has to be my best chapter yet. So romantic, i really shocked myself here. Please enjoy :) The middle pic is what I imagines omega to be wearing but does not represent the body type of all readers!

Masterlist

Series masterlist

Chan x reader (y/n) x ot8

ABO!Nonidol!SKZ Alternate Universe

Previous - Next

Series Warnings: Fem reader, Smut, verryyyy nsfw, chan x reader, OT8 x reader, A/B/O, m/m/f smut, possessive! SKZ, possessive! Reader, anxiety and depression, reader is a CRYBABY, fluff, angst, virgin!reader,  cursing, violence, pet names, dom/sub dynamics, Sub reader x mostly dom SKZ, misogyny and sexism, Ateez are depicted as terrible people (sorry Atiny!) 

Chapter Warnings: cursing, crying, fluff, smut ,oral- f receiving, fingering, protected piv (ik crazy for me lol)

WC:5.6k

MDNI 18+

The birds outside woke you up this morning, the sound of their sweet melodies peacefully bringing you out of your much needed slumber. The sun was barely rising over the mountains so you knew it was still very early. The alarm clock next to you read ‘5:44 am’. You knew Chan was laid behind you, his heavy arm curled over your figure, holding you close. 

You took a moment to appreciate the feeling of being trapped by him - of his warmth. This was quickly becoming your favorite pastime; laying here with him just enjoying his presence. A part of you wanted nothing more than to lay here all day, wasting away with him. A bigger part of you needed to be productive. You had slept away most of the day yesterday and were feeling quite energized from the rest. 

Chan did say last night that you had things to do today, so why not get this show on the road! It would be a nice surprise for the pack to wake up to a clean house and hot breakfast. First things first- getting out of the alphas hold on you. You shimmied against him, lightly lifting the appendage that held you hostage to squeeze out. You paused when you heard him sigh in his sleep, only to resume when he let out a snore. Cutie pie. 

You grabbed the pillow that you had been laying on and jammed it in place of where you rested previously, in Chans hold. The alpha must have smelled you on the pillow since he pulled it closer to his body. 

After doing your business in the bathroom you went on the hunt for cleaning supplies. You crept through the halls opening doors you knew to be closets until you finally found the supplies in a closet on the first floor. Upon finding them you immediately got to work. 

Starting with dusting, then sweeping and mopping the entire first floor. After that you did all the available bathrooms and then finished with a quiet clean of the top two floors. The kitchen would come after you made breakfast. Surprisingly it only took you until about 8:00 am to get all that done. You felt very efficient! To your surprise none of the boys have awoken yet. You didn’t hear one peep while cleaning. 

You also took the time to add more comfort items to the living spaces. The omega in you begged to make it more nestable so you did. Adding blankets, extra pillows and even a few of your new stuffed animals to couches and chairs. The goal was they would start to retain the smells of your new packmates then you could cuddle the items without shame. 

Next you wandered into your own room. All the bags from yesterday remained there untouched. Sorting through you put away all your clothes and picked out a nice outfit for today. It was almost summer time so you knew it would be warm today and opted for a green floral cami dress that went just above your knees. Minho must have picked this out for you, but it was so so cute you had to wear it. It was just your style. Grabbing the dress and some panties you went to take a shower and to finish getting ready for the day. 

The shower was where you did your best thinking. A place to escape just you and your thoughts. As you washed your hair and body with the strawberry scented products you reflected on the whole pack. If you were a sane person it would scare you just how comfortable you are getting with the pack in such a short amount of time. And how comfortable they are with you. 

But you’re not a sane person. You’re an omega in love. All sanity is thrown out the window when you find your mate. All you want is to be perfect for him. And in turn also for the whole pack. 

There was a blow dryer and curler amongst your things in your room as well as makeup you had chosen while shopping so when you came out you were able to fully get ready for the day. You felt very cute today, you didn’t have any reason to look super nice back when you were with your family seeing as you rarely were allowed to leave the house- and if you did leave never would you have been allowed to wear a dress or anything remotely revealing. Fathers orders. 

You hoped your alpha and pack would like it on you. You straightened yourself up before heading down to cook. It was nearing 9:30 so you hoped they would start getting up any time now. 

Down in the kitchen as you were gathering ingredients you noticed a small sound system attached to the wall and a remote sitting on the island. Grabbing the remote you pressed the power button and when you saw the small light indicating it was on you pressed play. Out came the melodies of a familiar band. 5 Seconds of Summer? Whoever is hooked up to this obviously has great taste! 

That was where Seungmin found you, whisking eggs and belting out the words to ‘She looks so perfect’ and he couldn't agree more. ‘She does look perfect’ He thought to himself. He stood there leaning against the wall admiring you for a solid 2 minutes before you noticed him, suddenly being able to smell another person around you spun around in embarrassment at being caught like that. 

“Seungmin!” 

He cracked a smile at you, eyes scanning you up and down before settling on your reddened face. “Hey baby. Whatcha doin?” 

You turned away from him to try and hide the blush that seeped onto your cheeks, “Nothing. Just trying to get breakfast together. What are you doing?” 

He shrugged “Been up for a few minutes when I heard a commotion in here. The house looks really great. Was that your doing baby?” You felt him approach you while you nodded. 

“Umm yeah, I woke up early and wanted to get some things done for you guys.” You continued to whisk the eggs without looking at him. 

“Mmm” He reached for your face, turning you towards him, “ It is greatly appreciated, omega.” 

You let out a squeak when he called you that, causing a smirk to appear on his face.

 Seungmin could smell how pleased you were so he didn’t give it another thought before he leaned down and pressed a chaste kiss directly on your lips. He pulled away and licked his own lips still gazing into your shocked eyes. 

“How long until food is ready you think?” He asked. You couldn’t believe how nonchalant he was being right now after he just kissed you!! 

‘Should I pretend my heart isn’t beating out of my chest?’ You wondered. 

“ A-about 20 minutes.” Dammit you stuttered! Get a grip! You mentally scolded yourself. 

“Perfect. I'll wake the pack”  He said it with an evil smirk, looking forward to the task. 

-----------------------------------

Wake the pack he did indeed. By playing police sirens on his phone and bursting into everyone's rooms cackling when they swore at him and dodging thrown pillows (and one stuffy from Felix). If you had known he was going to do that then you would have woken them yourself! Though admittedly it was pretty efficient, since it was a matter of minutes until the rest of your pack made their way downstairs, looking tired and grumpy. 

The grumpiness left every single one of them though, when they caught eyes on you. Looking oh so delectable in your little dress cooking for them. What a perfect thing to awaken too. 

Not that you noticed much, you were still caught up on the feeling of Seungmins lips on your own. Each boy greeted you as they came down, most giving you hugs - except Changbin who not only hugged you but did his signature of lifting you from the ground. 

When Minho had come down you thanked him for the dress. He knew you would look great in the outfit and damn he was right. 

“You’re welcome, Baby. It looks good on you.” He replied and gave you a wink

Chan came down last as you and Minho were setting the table, looking freshly showered. 

“There's my sweet girl. I was wondering where you wandered off too.” the alpha kissed your temple. He took the stack of plates from your hands and continued your task. 

“Good morning Channie.” You reached back for the plates but he shooed you out with a smack to your rear. 

“Nuh uh looks like you’ve done enough. Sit down and get some food, omega.” He raised his brows at you when it looked like you were about to protest. You begrudgingly took a seat in your normal spot. Chan gave you a pleased smile. “Good girl.” 

Once the whole pack was sat together you all discussed each other's plans. Changbin was hitting the gym (what was new there), Minho wanted to get more food for the house and Felix wanted to join him to the store, while Hyunjin had his weekly art class he teaches at the community center every wednesday afternoon. 

“What are you up to today, baby?” Jisung asked with a mouth full. 

“Oh, I don’t actually know.” You looked to Chan for the answer. 

He wiped his mouth with a napkin, “Well you have an appointment in about an hour to see a doctor, we need to make sure everything is okay after you got off the suppressants. Then we’re heading over to the police station to clear up your missing persons status.” 

You were confused. “I have a missing person status?” 

“You ran away from home, Baby. Ran away from Hongjoong, who probably paid a pretty penny for a sweet girl like you. Makes sense they would look for you.” Jeongin reasoned nervously. The youngest alpha would never admit it but he was honestly scared about the Ateez pack coming for you or Chan. It was weighing on a few of their minds. 

Chan could sense the uneasiness in the room. “But we’re getting it taken care of today. I already have it all ready to go, just need you to sign a few things and you'll be golden. No more worrying about Hongjoong.” He smiled with that predator's smile he had. His words brought you some ease, and you nodded at him. His next words though, shook you to your core.

“Plus, if that asshole did decide to show his face around here I would take care of it.” 

--------------------------------------------

After dropping off Hyunjin and Changbin at their respective locations you and Chan headed for the doctors office. Chan had assured this man was very good at his job and could be trusted. 

Doctor Bong had been Chan's doctor for years, and before that had been childhood friends with the alpha. He was a friendly beta man, albeit younger than any doctor you had ever seen, and he did his best to help you relax with small talk as he examined you. Even though you’re the first real omega he has treated he still had some knowledge as he had to do a course on omegas in medical school. 

“Given how long you had been on the suppressants I am going to need a small blood sample to examine.” Dr.Bong said woefully at seeing your expression. “ I know it’s not ideal, but you had been on some pretty powerful drugs, Y/n.” 

“Not to mention illegal.” Chan muttered scornfully. 

Bong nodded “Yes that too. There's a reason you can’t just pick up a prescription for them. They could cause a lot of damage and we need to be sure you’re functioning correctly.”  

Your alpha grabbed your hand and released a calming pheromone to relax you. “This is to help you, baby.” 

You took a deep breath and prepared for the needle. Chan was laying his scent on thick, it now taking over all your senses completely distracting you from the blood draw. You were so wrapped up in him that you didn’t notice the draw had been done until Dr.Bong was putting a bandage on you. 

You snapped out of the daze when Dr.Bong exclaimed “All done! We will send this into the lab asap and get back to you by tomorrow morning at the latest. From what I can tell so far though your body is functioning pretty normally, maybe just your hormones are a little wacky. I would refrain from any.. Unprotected fun until we get the results in to be sure.” He looked pointedly at Chan. 

“Damn” Chan smirked and you gasped in embarrassment.

“Chan!!” 

He only laughed at your mortification. 

“Before you go” Bong said, “If everything checks out alright are you going to need a prescription for non hormonal birth control?” 

You were too shy to answer correctly, only nodding when Chan said “Yes please Bong. Wanna have some time with my girl before we have babies.” 

As you were checking out with reception Chan thanked the Doctor. 

“I appreciate you getting us in to see you at such short notice Bong.” The alpha bro hugged his friend. 

 “Anything for you, Chris. I am so happy you found your person. I’ll keep you updated as soon as I get the results in.” 

“Thanks man.” He saw you approaching him, “Ready to go gorgeous?” 

You smiled happily, now that the hard part for you was over, “Yes alpha!” You turned to the doctor “Thank you Doctor Bong!” 

Your alpha grabbed your hand and you were off to your next stop. 

-----------------------------------

The people at the police station had the paperwork ready for you upon your arrival. They just had to ask you a few questions regarding your safety, you signed the document stating you were in fact not missing and that was that. 

It felt like a massive weight had been lifted from your shoulders, Chans too by the scent coming off of him. 

The sheriff congratulated Chan on finding his omega, clapping him on the back in a fatherly way. It seemed like everyone in town knew the alpha. It had been explained to you that Chan's family had lived in the town of Silver Ridge for generations, helping to cultivate it and protect it. His family owned the property you now live on, only now it belonged solely to your alpha. He had grown up here. His parents left the small town  with him and his siblings when he was a teenager, wanting a change of scenery. Chan had only returned when he was an adult and his grandfather had passed, leaving his massive home to your alpha. 

He had a stake in his family business of buying and selling massive commercial properties, so he was very wealthy. Though he didn’t flaunt it.To him it was just one of the ways he provided for his pack.  Not that you cared if he had money or not. You loved him for him, not his money. 

After the police station there was still about an hour before you were supposed to pick up Hyunjin and Changbin so Chan took you to a little diner down the road where he claimed they made ‘the best chili fries ever’ and that you had to try them. 

He dragged you to an old booth in the corner, his normal spot he claimed, and ordered a massive plate of chili fries and each of you a milkshake. 

As he ate you just admired him. It was crazy how handsome he was, even with a mouth full of fries his beauty was effortless. He caught your eyes and grinned at you. 

“What are you looking at, beautiful?” 

You looked down ashamed you had been caught staring “Nothing.” You glanced up at him to see him still looking at you in amusement. “You’re just really handsome is all, Channie.” 

He chuckled at your words “ And you are too sweet, my gorgeous girl.” 

You felt the mating claim on your neck tingle at his compliment, so subconsciously  you raised your hand and lightly touched the area. Of course Chris noticed- he never took his eyes off you- and asked in concern “ Does it still hurt?” 

“No, just..” There was that blush again. He patiently waited for you to find your words. “Just whenever you say sweet things to me.. It.. tingles.” 

The alpha let out a small growl at your admittance, feeling his pants tighten. 

“Does yours do that too, alpha?” you asked tentatively. 

“Tingle wouldn’t be the word I would use, baby. But I definitely feel the connection in my bite.” He winked at you. 

“W-what does yours feel like?” 

His stare was piercing into your soul, “Baby. I burn for you.” You gasped as he continued “ It's this ever present heat that dwells within me whenever you are near me.  As if I had been living in a tundra my whole life never knowing warmth and now I’ve suddenly been transported to the desert. Inescapable and all encompassing.” 

Oh my fucking GOD 

Did he really just say that?! 

What the fuck do I say to that? 

You were short circuiting. You just couldn’t believe this perfect specimen of a man was spilling his heart out to you, in a public diner no less! 

Your pleased scent was cascading off of you in waves at this point, Chan could see the other patrons start to turn to look at you, nostrils flaring. He noticed one alpha man in particular start to fidget in his seat while gazing at you. 

Chan narrowed his eyes as if challenging the other male before addressing you, “Time for us to go now, my love.” He threw down a few 20s on the table and stood, grabbing your hand and leading you out. Your alpha was pumping out menacing pheromones, letting others know he wasn’t one to fuck around with.  

You finally caught onto what was happening when you saw heads turning to watch you walk out. You clutched harder onto Chan, holding his arm close to you as he led you out. 

“ ‘m sorry.” You murmured as you exited the restaurant, climbing into the car as he held the door open for you. 

He leaned down and pressed a hot kiss against your mouth, letting it linger for a second before he pulled away. 

“Don’t apologize. Not your fault those bastards can't keep their eyes or their noses to themselves.” He gave you a tight smile at you before closing the door once he was sure you were secure. 

You couldn’t help but feel like you soured the mood, the guilt beginning to feel like a pit in your stomach. Chan climbed into the driver's seat next to you and started the car. He knew you felt bad about what happened. “Seriously Baby, it’s no big deal. It was about time to go pick up Jinnie and Bin anyways.” He gave you another kiss and you were off. 

----------------------------------

Your mood improved slightly after picking up the other two boys, they always brightened your day. Changbin was still slightly sweaty when he got in the car, his musk making you dizzy. As if he could tell he gave you a wink when you looked at him in the folding mirror. 

Hyunjin had a large canvas with him that was covered in a sheet blocking anyone from seeing what lies underneath. When you asked him what he had made he blushed and held the canvas close to him, muttering that it was a surprise. Of course Changbin would never let that slide so he relentlessly teased the beta, tugging on the sheet and whining about needing- not wanting - to see it. Hyunjin held his ground and refused each time, slapping the alphas hands away after every tug. 

Arriving home Changbin flung his door open and opened your door for you before Chan could, giving his alpha a sly smile when you thanked him. “Ever the gentleman, aren't you Binnie.” You teased him. He nodded enthusiastically. 

Jisung greeted you at the front door when you walked in, planting a wet smooch on your cheek causing you to squeal and laugh, pushing him away. “Jisung!” 

“Mm say my name again baby.” He leaned in for another kiss but instead licked your cheek quickly then ran away cackling maniacally. 

“AHH JISUNG!” 

 You went to chase after him but were stopped by Hyunjin grabbing your arm gently. 

“Ignore him baby, I do.” 

You huffed. “Fine.” 

The beta snickered and lowered his hand to hold yours, the other still gripping his canvas. “Can I show you something? In my room.” 

You nodded “Of course.” He led you up to his room. Chan gave your rear a pat when he passed you. 

You had never been in Hyunjins space before. The space was so…Hyunjin. Cream colored sheets and curtains, a big easel by the wide bay windows, shelves lined with paints and mountains of sketch books, and floral paintings covered the walls from floor to ceiling. His bed was unmade but it somehow added to the charm of the room. An artist's room. 

He closed the door behind you, and led you to take a seat on his bed. The beta then took the canvas in his hands - still covered- and placed it on his easel. He turned to you and fiddled with his hands. You gave him a patient look, waiting for him to gather himself. 

“Promise you won't laugh.” He states. 

You made an X over your heart. “Cross my heart, I won't laugh.” 

He let out a nervous breath and then tore the sheet from over the artwork. 

You weren't prepared for what lay underneath, a gasp leaving you. 

It was you. Hyunjin had painted you. In the exact outfit you were wearing now. He made you look ethereal. Capturing your image in a way that felt too perfect. In the painting you were sitting by an open window looking out into a field of flowers. 

“Oh my god, Hyunjin.” 

He studied your features, looking for any signs of displeasure. He found none. 

“I was teaching a class today and the topic we worked on was things that bring you joy.” You looked at him like you were going to cry, tears on your lash line. “The only thing I could think of was you. Of how effortlessly beautiful you are.” 

A sob escaped your lips involuntarily. The betas eyes widened in panic, upset he had done something wrong. He rushed to your side and took your hands in his own. “I'm sorry baby! I’ll get rid of it!” 

“No!” You demanded, still crying. “ I can’t believe you think of me this way. It’s so beautiful, Jinnie. Way too beautiful to be me.” 

He shook his head disagreeing. “ This is how I see you, baby. To me you are the most beautiful girl in the world. I can feel myself falling for you.” 

You acted without even thinking about it, and crashed your lips into his. He let out a noise of surprise and you pulled back quickly. 

“I am so sorry Hyun-” Before you could finish your sentence he kissed you again. He let go of your hands and brought them up to cup your face, deepening the kiss. He swiped his tongue along your bottom lip asking for permission which you gladly granted, parting for him. He tasted so sweet. Like rock candy, or a jolly rancher. Similar to his scent. It drove you crazy. 

He was the first to pull away, your lips chasing his. “You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do that.” He rested his forehead against his own, eyes closed and breathing heavy. 

You released your own shaky breath, his thumbs wiping away your tears. “I thought you were going to yesterday, when you left me in front of my door.” 

“I wanted to. I just didn’t know if you wanted me like I wanted you. Like I need you.” He could smell the sudden flare of arousal emanating from you. 

“ I do, Hyunjin. I need you too. It’s still taking some getting used to that it’s ok for me to need you, but I do. I think I’m falling for you too.” You were honest with him and he rewarded you by nuzzling his nose into yours, giving it a peck. 

“I won’t do anything to make you uncomfortable, baby.” Though if your smell was any indication you were quite enjoying yourself. 

You shook your head, “I’m not uncomfortable Jinnie. In fact I.. I want more.” 

“Oh baby.” Hyunjin purred then reattached his mouth to yours and he lightly leaned you back to lay on his bed, hovering above you while he kissed you. He stuck his tongue back into your mouth, massaging your own with the wet appendage. 

You let out a squeak when you felt his hand find your thigh, his warm fingers running up and down your skin. Your own hands found the front of his shirt, tugging him closer to you. You felt yourself get drunk on the taste of him. 

He slid his hands up to your hips, under your dress, and he drummed his fingers there. Without removing his lips from your skin he peppered kisses from your lips to your chin and down your neck, the opposite side from your mating mark. 

“Tell me to stop.” He said in between kisses. “Tell me to stop before I go too far.”  

“I don’t want you to stop.” 

“Omega.”  His right hand traveled from your hip to your clothed core, thumbing over the wet patch. “Already so wet for me, huh? I haven't even touched you yet. My dirty girl.” You could feel him smirk against your skin, his kisses turning sloppy and wet.  

He rubbed against the wet patch through your panties, pushing the material between your folds and stimulating your bundle of nerves. 

A small moan slipped from you and you bit your lip. By now your slick was building quickly, completely soaking the fabric. 

The beta hummed at feeling it. “I can feel you starting to wet my fingers, baby. Can’t let all that goodness go to waste, can we?” He cooed rhetorically. 

Hyunjin laid one more suckling kiss to your chest (that will surely turn into a hickey) then he scooted himself down your body and bunched up your dress to sit over your hips. He finally got a good look at your soaked panties- a pair of green lacy ones. ‘Fitting’ He thought. 

He was drowning in the scent of your arousal, being this close was like a slap in the face. He could taste it before he even got his mouth on you. Hyunjin looked up at your red, panting face one last time before closing his eyes and licking up the wet patch on your underwear. He let out the filthiest moan he had ever made when he made contact. In turn making you moan too. 

“Ji-jinnie.” 

At the sound of his name he reached up and pulled your panties down your hips just enough to lick you with no barrier, then he dove in with his tongue. He swiped it up and down your folds, over the slit, collecting the liquid that leaked from you, drinking it like he was parched. Like he was dying of thirst. 

Your hands found his hair and you yanked in pleasure, your back arching. He took that as his invitation to go further, slithering his tongue to circle your clit where he wrapped his lips around it and suckled. 

A whine tore through you, so good but wanting more. 

“Jinnnnie please” 

He hummed in response, the vibrations flowing straight through to your core. 

“Nnnnnggghh” you groaned. 

He humored you and brought two fingers up to your opening, coating himself in the slick, before pushing in slowly up to the last knuckle. 

Your panting got louder at the intrusion. You were finding it difficult to keep quiet with how good it felt, the whole pack probably knows by now anyway. Not that you cared right now, but later you would be mortified. Oh well that was a problem for later. 

He gave you a second to adjust, feeling you clench on his fingers every time he licked your bundle, before easing the digits out slowly then back, a steady motion that gradually got quicker as he went. Soon enough he found the perfect rhythm where your moans got the loudest. He paid attention to things like that. 

Your thighs were beginning to shake from the pleasure, you knew if he kept it up you would tip into oblivion. 

“Jinnie ‘m gonna cum.” You pulled his hair in warning. He stayed steadfast, if anything he licked harder trying to get you there. After only a few more thrusts of his fingers you came with a cry, hips bucking against his face and hands knotted in his blond locks.

‘Damn she sounds divine when she comes’ He mused in his head, instead letting a moan of his own escape him at the taste of your cum and the sweet sounds you made for him. 

He pulled his fingers out of you and lifted his face to show you the wetness that covered the bottom half of his face. Then he made a show of sucking those same fingers into his mouth, eyes rolling when they hit his tongue. 

“Hyunjin!” You squealed and hid your face, “That's so dirty!” 

“Only for you, baby.” It hurt how sincere he was. “Do you wanna continue, or was that enough? I don’t wanna push you too far.”

Even though you were a little sensitive from the last few days you still wanted him. “ Wan’ you Jinnie. Need you.” 

He stood quickly to pull down his pants and underwear, revealing his length to you. It was so pretty. Long but on the slimmer side. Drool worthy. 

He removed his bottoms from himself completely, and pulled his shirt up over his head letting you get a good look at his slim but fit figure. He was tan like he had been in the sun recently. He reached into his bedside table for a condom, remembering what his alpha had said about not cumming in you. Yet. He quickly rolled it on. 

He got back on the bed and crawled up your body to hover over you, where he then gave you a peck on the mouth. “Are you sure, baby?” 

“Yes. Please Hyunjin.” you purred. 

He groaned “You’re gonna kill me one day.” 

The beta took himself in his hand and lined himself up, sweeping through the liquid to coat him, then slid inside inch by inch, giving you time to adjust to him. 

Your arms came to wrap around his bare shoulders, a long drawn out moan in his ears like the most beautiful melodies. 

You were so warm inside, and you gripped him like a vice so tightly he almost stopped breathing. After a beat he gave you a gentle thrust, then another and another, going deeper with each one. He took one of your thighs and wrapped it around his waist to press himself further into you, letting you feel his weight. If he died now he would die a happy man, having gotten a taste of what it’s like to be with you.

With each thrust you let out small high pitched noises, unable to contain them. Not that Hyunjin wanted you too. It wasn’t long before you were close to the edge once again. You were still worked up from the last one. 

Hyunjin could feel his impending orgasm but he needed you to come first. He brought two fingers up to your mouth and ran them along your lips gathering the drool that was accumulating there. Then he took those same digits and lowered them between your bodies to your clit, where he rubbed hard figure 8s. 

That seemed to be all you needed, your arms tightening around him as you came hard on his cock. Your eyes screwed shut as you moaned.

When you came you clenched hard. Hard enough to push Hyunjin to orgasm, he crashed his lips into yours and he shook against you as he filled the condom. 

For a few minutes he just held you there against him, both of you breathing hard. He wasn’t an alpha so he didn’t have to worry about a knot and was able to slip out if you easily. He held the condom secure as he did so, then stood up and quickly took it off and disposed of it in the trash can in the corner. 

You were still panting but coming too as he stood up. Can’t believe that just happened. There was a twinge of guilt for it, but that was quickly replaced with peace when Hyunjin gave you that signature grin with his pouty lips. 

He came back to his bed where you were still laying and plopped down next to you, giving you a kiss. “How was that, baby? Are you feeling ok?” 

“Mmhmm” You answered, snuggling up to the beta, needing the after sex comfort. 

“I hope you don't regret it.” His voice was timid now, as he put his face in your hair. "Don't regret me."

“No Hyunjin, of course not. I could never regret you.” There was zero hesitancy in your voice so he knew you were telling the truth. Chan had given you explicit permission, encouraged it, so there was nothing to regret. It felt good to be loved and wanted by these boys. Hyunjin definitely made you feel that way. 

He showed it by taking care of you now, getting up to grab you some water and a fresh pair of underwear from your room. Then he plopped down next to you once again and engaged in some cuddles. You could get used to this. 

A/N: Finnnnaallllyyyyyy getting some action from the other boys >:) I am so damn proud of this one yall idekkkk. These chapters are quickly becoming more and more self indulgent lol sorry

Beta read by the lovely @ayejaii thank you bumble <3

Comments and reblogs are very much appreciated!

©doitforbangchan

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Sorry if your tag isn't working!! Im trying my best :(

[alyslittlehaven]

In What We Keep Chapter 1 - A Fires Warmth.

DragonBorne!Reader X Azriel Shadowsinger.

One fateful night after a mission, the three bat brothers need to seek refuge from the cruel winds past the mountains of Illyria, after a little debating, Azriel decides to take his brothers to the slice of life he took for himself

Warnings: Self Made Fae Race, swearing, talks of sex/sexual interactions, lewd jokes and or conversations, Pregnancy, Pre-established Relationship, mates, fated, Soft Azriel, secret relationships and more ACOTAR IS NOT MY BOOK, NEITHER ARE THE CHARACTERS

(This is short due to my writer's block hitting hard, also- ignore my horrible writing in this I don't have the greatest imagination right now lol.)

“This storm isn’t going anywhere, Az.”

Cassian’s voice strained as he squinted through the heavy snowfall. Their footsteps behind them quickly being covered up as they continued on through the cold. Cassian groaned, his body shivering harshly.

 Azriel grunted as he tightened the fur that hung around his body. The black dire wolf pelt kept out the wind just for a little longer as the snow picked up around them all. Azriel looked over his shoulder, his hair swaying lightly in the wind as his brothers stopped behind him. There was no way they could continue on like this. Flying in this weather would be a death wish and the creatures that they were hunting were extremely sensitive to magic. Their noses picked up the slightest bit of arcane and followed it like it was food. 

The snow continued to whip around them. Azriels wings shifting as the wind blew in between the membrane and his back. The cold slowly seeps into his bones as the three of them pick up the pace once again. Rhysand let out a huff, looking around slowly and yelling over the blizzard. “There is no way we can get to RoseHall like this, let alone the camps! We need to find shelter!” Cassian nodded, looking at Azriel with a pleading look. Rhysand was right, there was no way the storm was going to let up, and if anything was just getting worse the longer they walked. Rosehall was nowhere on the other side of the mountain and the winds of Illyria were unforgiving to travellers during the summer months. What would happen to the three of them if they continued to trudge through the snow?

Cassian crossed his arms, his lips turning blue as they stood still huddled together. His wings spanned out and fluttered to get the snow off of them. The weight on his shoulders now dispersed as her shook himself off. Azriel looked around, looking for any kind of landmark that could tell him where they stood on the mountain. His eyes locked into a bundle of lights in the distance. A relieved breath left him as he saw the small, broken sign with a carved dragon egg on it. 

His brows furrowed as he thought, his arms wrapping around himself as he took a couple of steps. Dread slowly made its way to his stomach as he realized where they were heading.

He could bring them into his home. The small cabin he had built with his own hands inside of the heart of the hearth. The home that his mate was in while he stood out in the cold with his brothers. Her body probably curled up on the couch with that ugly knitted blanket she made draped over her as a book remained under her nose. The fire probably roaring in the fireplace and leaving the room in a nice orange glow.

Azriel sighed, quickly pulling up his hood before beginning to move in the direction of the light,. His voice hoarse as he spoke. "I have somewhere we can stay. if you don't mind walking for a bit more, that is." Cassian rolled his eyes, his feet moving without him having to think about saying yes or no as he followed his brothers closely. 

“Azriel…where are we going?” Rhysands teeth chatters, his breaths coming out as fog due to the cold. His whole body nearly froze at the question. He had worked so hard to keep this part of his life a secret from his family. The relaxing life he came to every night and woke up the day after next to. The happy cabin he filled with love and work that he made sure he separated his work life from his mate. His wonderful, beautiful mate pressed kisses to his hand when he came home from work and tried out new Illyrian recipes so he would feel at home in the hearth. The best woman he had met, and the calmest. They had spoken about it a few times, introducing her to his family and the inner circle, and despite her wanting to meet them he just didn’t want to yet. Wanting to keep her to himself just for a little longer.

“To…a friend's house. She lives right up here in this cabin.”

Rhysand and Cassian looked at each other, a small shrug was all Cassian responded with as they walked up the stairs of the porch. Azriel quickly opened the door, the wood creaking under his weight as he ushered the two in. A frown on his face as he shut the door behind them. “Y/n?” Azriels voice carried through the small cabin, some shuffling in the distance going dead silent.

“I’ll be there in a second love!” A couple of pans knocked together before she walked into the hallway, a small pep in her step now that she saw who was in her home. Cassian, ever the gossip, repeatedly hit Rhysands arm like a teenage girl. A smirk on his face as he raised an eyebrow at Azriel.

Rhysands jaw dropped as she untied her apron, the large and evident bump now on full display as she put down the fabric and pressed a hand to her stomach. Her eyes raked over the two unfamiliar men with a gentle smile. "You must be Azriels brothers...welcome to the Hearth. Come- Sit down, please."

[lesamis]

1810s dashboard but it's niche drama

💛 heartofanna Following

imagine cancelling someone for saying war is bad

🧵 sharethewoe Follow

#didn't expect better from w*rdsworth but some people i rly thought i could count on…… #anyway we will live to see this empire fall. can't stop history lol (via @heartofanna)

speaking as someone who was press ganged at the age of 17 to serve in his majesty's royal navy i couldn't be more grateful for your poem. young men like me are cannon fodder and you spoke for so many of us. fuck napoleon but fuck parliament even more.

86 notes

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

stable forgiving virtuous flourishing in my lane definitely not buying poison moisturized unbothered never been better

chatterpwned-deactivated78345629743

me when i lie

179302 notes

🏛 mynoseisfine Follow

Settling this once and for all. What does the public actually think about the Parthenon marbles debate:

🦉 realminerva Follow

lol i know it’s you lord elgin

🦉 realminerva Follow

like we joke and all but fully aside from the fact that removing the sculptures from greek soil was vulturine and opportunistic etc, it’s really just the tip of a frankly gigantic mountain of imperialist bullshit. let’s not pretend we haven’t been brutally killing hundreds who resisted oppression in india, LITERALLY BOMBED A NEUTRAL EUROPEAN CAPITAL, and embarrassed ourselves in the charge against napoleon for years now. pathetic ass empire & evil as hell to boot. @mynoseisfine the greeks who carved your marbles millennia ago would kick your tory ass so hard

3661 notes

🎀 emmawoodhousestan Follow

how do i still keep seeing thomas chatterton's final post being reblogged, wtf is wrong with you freaks??? he was seventeen it was tragic and horrible and happened ages ago. he was a kid just let him rest

294 notes

🍎 masque-off Following

callout post for @castleyeah @lordsidmouth @officialcoe @parliamentofficial: they oppress, murder and famish the british working people & also suck majorly

⛪ castleyeah Follow

sour cuz you’re unfit to have custody of your own kids huh

🍎 masque-off Following

proud to be the dad of a newborn who could already rend your pudding spine asunder with a mere glance

187 notes

🦆 mallardturner Following

finished this today 😊

44 notes

😎 chadeharold Follow

why is it always “you’re risking your life and legacy & will get yourself killed before the age of five and twenty” and never how was swimming the hellespont the hellespont looked fun was it fun

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

ohhh my god you swam the hellespont five years ago?? wooow should we tell everyone?? should we throw a party?? should we invite famous hero of greek myth leander who swam the hellespont

😎 chadeharold Follow

@loved-joanna look we never had any beef & don’t have to start this now. it’s cool that you’re sticking up for my ex, you guys were friends first, but just know that i’ve always trusted your opinion on my work & genuinely respect and admire you & would still be up for a collab whenever.

🎭 loved-joanna Mutuals

yea sure why don’t your lips collab with my ass

😎 chadeharold Follow

on it boss

1009 notes

#literally call me. down if you are

🍂 endymion Follow

sorry is it me or is the assassin who stabbed german bootleg wordsworth kinda…… 🥵

💄 biprincesscharlotte Mutuals

JOHN KEATS????????

2427 notes

#i'm p sure this is the author of lamia thirstposting on main??? help

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

romanticism this romanticism that why don’t you romanticise universal suffrage and rights for labouring people

🌾 huntsmanx Follow

anyone else in jail for seditious libel

🏹 axelaidtotheroot Mutuals

lmao i'm one of the “anyone else”s and i know you’re enjoying family visits and apparently some kind of cushy armchair situation, plus tons of books. try being in here as a spencean dude they won’t even let me learn how to write. worst of all some evangelical came by yesterday just to proselytize & put me “on the right path” fml

8341 notes

🗻 mounttambora Follow

y'all i don't feel so good :/

59 notes

[casuallyobssessed]

Fairytales & Firesides - Bodyguard!John Wick x Fem!Reader ❥ 6.1k Words

A/N: My Keanuverse Secret Santa gift for @at-wicks-end, hosted by @97keanu ! I hope you love it! P.S. I don't live in an area that gets snow, sorry if this is inaccurate! 🫶🏼

Before You Read: bodyguard AU, fluff, canon typical violence/descriptions of violence, short-ish slow burn (I tried lol), angst, no beta, use of Y/N, :3c

gif creds to dalekinapaintedparadise - divider by bleachbambi

Archive of Our Own Link

Winter crashes into the mountains like a raging bull, forcing you inside for the foreseeable future. Sleet and snow dominate the weather forecast, rendering the outdoors dangerous in more ways than one. While the snow comes down, you could usually be found tucked away in your home library. Warm light from the fireplace bathes you in an orange and red glow as you curl up in your comfiest chair with one of your many books. This has always been your treasured safe space. 

At least, it was, until things with your uncle got more complicated. For a while now, you've been living in one of your uncle's mansions, kind of doing whatever you want. He allows you to stay there only because you promised to look after the place every winter when there aren't as many people around to help on the property due to the snowfall in the mountains. 

Your uncle, Diego, is into some pretty shady stuff. Gangs, drugs, secret societies? You name it, he has his fingers in it. Recently, Diego had some kind of drug deal gone bad with a very prestigious group of people involved. Since then, they've hired a hit on your uncle and any of your family that they can get their hands on. A distant cousin, one aunt, and your great grandfather have all fallen victim to revenge killings. Diego fears that you could be next since you live in one of his properties, so he's hired a selection of bodyguards for your protection.

Unfortunately, the newly hired muscle made your comfort space feel more like a prison. As silly as it might sound, you felt like a princess locked away in her secluded tower. Being a full grown adult, something like this seemed like overkill. You didn't need twenty four seven protection from everything that goes bump in the night, but you were dependent on Diego’s generosity, so you accepted his offer of security with gritted teeth. 

As the time passed, your bodyguards came and went. You never had the same one for more than a week at a time. Many of them were kind to you, and thankfully, only one of them had been a creep. They were promptly dealt with (according to Diego, anyway). 

It didn't take too long for daily life to start losing its spark. You plowed through a good portion of your books in the first couple of weeks. This prompted you to start writing your own book. Really, it was more of a journal documenting your experience, but who said it couldn't be both? 

The guards were usually your only contact with the outside world, so you appreciated your conversations with them. Trading stories of their heroic actions for your recounts of the fantasy books you had been reading, you were able to keep your imagination running wild and your notebooks full of ideas. 

After one particularly difficult week, Sunday rolled around and it was time for a new guard. You bid farewell to the previous one and patiently waited to meet the lucky new bodyguard. Diego would brief them on their duties before they were dispatched to your side. You just hope they were kinder than the last. 

Your newest guard is set to find you on the floor in your library, busy reviewing pieces of your story journal. The click of the door opening snatches you back to reality, turning your attention to the man entering your sanctuary. Standing up, you step over your journal and various papers scattered around the floor, and slowly walk over to where he stood. 

“Good Morning, Ms.Y/N,” His voice is as smooth as honey.

“It's nice to meet you,” You offer your hand and he takes it, giving it a firm shake, ”What's your name?” 

“John. I see that you're busy, I'll keep out of your way.” 

John looks past you, at the chaos spread about the room, and gives you a curt nod before assuming his post by the door. You return to work on your journal, hoping he doesn't notice the urgency in your writing as you occasionally steal glances at him, documenting the handsome new guard. 

John is not a bad looking man. He stands a good bit taller than you with slicked back, dark hair and a matching, well groomed beard. He has beautiful brown eyes that twinkle as though they hold the secrets to the universe. Maybe that last part is all in your head, but there's certainly something mysterious about this man that captivates you.

Out of your way is where John stays for the next couple of days, quiet and mostly indifferent to your presence. He followed you whenever you left your library but kept a distance either in front or behind you. At night, he sat on the couch in the far corner of your room. Under normal circumstances, it would have made you too uneasy to have someone watching you sleep, but after weeks of constant surveillance, you were used to it. 

Come the third day, you are determined to break the ice with him. Two days of no conversation other than one word responses was driving you mad. It never took this long for a guard to warm up to you. So, you decide that you are going to try your best to get some kind of response out of him. 

Small talk definitely isn't going to work. This man is clearly not one to gossip or discuss the weather with. Your first attempt is to ask him about current events. ‘What's the world like out there right now? Anything important happening that I should know about?’ You're met with only a shrug and a small, well meaning smile. Strike one. 

Next, you try asking him about himself and his home life. ‘Have anyone at home missing you while you're busy here? Do you have any pets?’ Unfortunately, these questions don't receive much of a response either, not even so much as a shrug. The look in his eyes hardened after the first question, though. You figure it's best not to push it. Strike two. 

For your last attempt, you decide to ask him if he has any interesting stories about jobs he's had in the past. This was a common question you had for your guards as their answers would usually help inspire your writing. ‘Do you have any cool action stories or experiences you could share? I can tell you about some of the books I've been reading in exchange!’ Finally, John looks at you with somewhat of an amused expression on his face. It's the most emotion you've gotten out of him, so far, but he doesn't say anything. Strike three. You're out! 

…Or are you? 

John shifts on his feet before clearing his throat to speak, “I suppose there are a few I could share with you.” 

“Awesome. Let me grab my notebook,” you say incredibly calmly, desperate not to give away your excitement. Mentally, you're doing a celebratory victory dance. 

-

For hours, you two trade stories. His were outlandish, but true. Each story is more nail bitingly exciting than the last. Yours range from the worst romance novels you've ever read, to the best fantasy books you have shelved in your library. You filled half your journal with wonderful ideas thanks to John. And on top of that, it seems like he is getting more comfortable with talking to you. It's an overall win-win for you. 

That night, you become keenly aware of John in the corner of your room, reading one of the books you suggested to him. You're not sure what changed, but you feel very differently about having him here. Sure, you feel protected, but something inside you has started to feel warm and gooey knowing he's always nearby. Maybe you just need a good night's rest. It's been a long day. You snuggle up underneath your comforter and drift off to sleep. 

The next morning you wake yourself up from tossing and turning. You can't catch your breath, you're completely flushed, and your heart is racing. It takes a moment, but suddenly your dream from last night comes flooding back and you're blushing like a schoolgirl. 

You had a dream about John. Oh God. Your cheeks must be burning bright red from embarrassment. Looking over at John, he is seemingly still asleep. His eyes are closed, head leaned back, arms crossed on his chest, and legs spread wide. You wonder what would happen if you were to crawl between those long legs and… Nope! Nuh uh! Shaking the rogue thoughts from your head, you promptly get out of bed and make your way to the bathroom. You need a cold shower, pronto. 

Upon returning from your shower, John was finally awake, reading the same book from the night before. Realizing you’re back and wearing only a towel, John excuses himself and steps outside the door to wait for you to change. 

You don't know how you're supposed to face him, but you know that the thoughts you're having aren't fair towards him. John has been completely professional with you while he's been here and it would be inappropriate of you to cross that line. 

Getting dressed quickly, you pick out a pair of plaid pajama pants and a long sleeved shirt. Never leaving the house has some perks. You rarely have to get dressed up in stiff, fancy clothes unless you really want to. Days like today, you can lounge around in pajamas with no consequence. 

Once you’re finished dressing, you leave your room and briskly walk past John without a word. You don't necessarily want to be cold towards him, but until you get a grip on yourself, it's probably better that way. 

John dutifully follows you back to the library and posts up by the door. You tend to the fireplace, rekindle it as needed, and then plop yourself onto the bench next to the window adjacent to the hearth. Frost is crawling up the edges of the window, obscuring your view only slightly. As you stare out into the wintry wonderland, you try your best not to think about John and the contents of your dream. 

Instead, you focus on the snowflakes as they dance down from the sky in a flurry and collect on the ground below. With how soft the snow looks, you have no trouble imagining yourself making the perfect snow angel, right in the front yard. You're not sure if going out there is the best idea, given the weather and the unpredictable danger, but a little freedom might just be what you need right now.

Maybe if you move fast enough, you could get past John and escape outside. It was worth a shot. You nonchalantly rise up from the bench and silently shuffle back to your room. John trails along behind you, looking moderately confused. You hurriedly shut the bedroom door, accidentally closing it in his face.

“Sorry, John! Give me a minute, I'm changing again,” You call out.

A muffled ‘Okay’ can be heard as you dig through your closet looking for your puffy winter coat. You find it half shoved in the back corner, dangling precariously on its hanger. After pulling your coat on, you slide into your snow boots, wriggle your fingers into your gloves, and head towards the front door. 

As fate would have it, a big coat and snow boots are not the smartest choices when you're trying to move fast. You make it as far as the foyer, reaching for the door handle before he stops you. So much for keeping your distance from him today. 

“Ms. Y/N, where do you think you're going?” John grabs your arm tightly enough to keep you in place. You try shrugging him off, but he's got too strong of a grip on you. 

“Outside. I want to see the snow.”

“You can see the snow from in here,” He responds as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. 

“I want to feel it, John. I want to remember what it's like to breathe fresh air.” 

“It's my job to keep you safe. Inside,” He replies sternly.

“I'm going out and you are not going to stop me,” You spit back at him, putting your foot down. 

John reluctantly lets you go and takes a step back. He considers you for a moment before he speaks again.

“Fine. Diego won't be pleased, but at least let me put on my coat.” 

You oblige his request and wait for him patiently until he returns wearing his heavy, black coat. Though you do feel a little bad for how you spoke to him, you don't regret it. You have been cooped up in this house for far too long. 

John insists on stepping outside first to make sure it's clear before allowing you to follow him. The second you cross the threshold, cold, crisp air hits your face and you breathe a sigh of relief. Being inside all the time gets incredibly stuffy and winter isn't the ideal time to be opening windows to air things out. You stare up into the sky as snowflakes land on your face, only to melt against your skin. 

Everything is still and quiet. From the house to the trees, it's a peaceful, untouched spread of snow, give or take a few sparse animal tracks. Off to the side, John is watching you and your surroundings with a sharp eye.

You trudge around in the snow looking for the best place to make your masterpiece. Just in front of the windows to the library, you find the perfect spot. 

Without another thought, you fall back into the snow, moving your arms and legs to create the shape of a snow angel. You feel as giddy as a kid, smiling ear to ear and laughing like a fool. Who knew something as simple as playing in the snow could make you feel so happy, so free? 

“John, come on! Make a snow angel with me. Please?” You’re begging him to have some fun with you even though half an hour ago you were plotting how you could avoid him indefinitely. 

His footsteps crunch in the snow until he's standing over you with a smile almost as wide as yours as you look up at him. You feel as though the heavens have opened up and you're staring directly at an angel. The frost nipping at your nose pales in comparison to the heat bursting inside your chest. 

He solemnly shakes his head at you, “I can't, I'm sorry.”  

You stay like that for a bit until the cold from the snow starts to overwhelm you through your coat and pajama pants, sending chills down your spine. You stand up from the ground to admire your handiwork. It's a solid outline if you ignore John's big footprints in the snow above the head. You decide it's an easy eight out of ten.

Satisfied with your creation, you move on to your next activity. You scoop up a handful of snow and pat it into a ball in your hands. Luckily for you, John is turned away, distracted by something off in the distance near the trees. Now’s the perfect chance to strike. 

You wind up your arm and toss the snowball at him, smacking him squarely between the shoulder blades. Pumping your fist in the air, you holler out a loud ‘Yes!’

You hear an exasperated sigh come from John, and quickly, you realize you may have messed up and taken things too far. 

“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-” Your apology is cut off by John whipping around, grabbing a fistful of snow, forming it hastily in his hands, and then throwing it at you, landing in the center of your chest. 

Stunned, you let out a loud laugh before returning fire. John obviously has the better aim of you two. Missing every other shot was an improvement for you, while he was landing every hit flawlessly.

Unsurprising to you, John ends up as the winner of the snowball fight. You gave up once your stomach started rumbling and you realized that you hadn't eaten any breakfast yet. Hungry and defeated, you head back inside with your bodyguard in tow.

In the foyer, you strip off your coat, gloves, and boots, tossing them to the side. You had plenty of time to worry about them later. John hangs his coat up carefully on the coat rack and turns to you expectantly. 

“Thank you for going out there with me. That was a lot of fun,” You exclaim while rubbing your hands together to bring back the feeling in them. 

“It can't happen again, but you're welcome,” He looks genuinely sorry. 

“I know,” You understand the danger, but you wish things were different, “Are you hungry? I can make us some mean pancakes.” 

“Sure, Ms. Y/N,” Once again, John is smiling at you and it's enough to ignite even the coldest parts of you. There was no way on earth you could keep trying to avoid him when he made you feel this way with just a smile.

-

Breakfast went off without a hitch. Well, there may have been a minor hitch involving the pancake batter, but John stepped in and saved the day. He ended up offering to take over the process entirely, and you agreed. That gave you a chance to watch him do something besides stand still and look all serious.  

Once you’re done eating and all the breakfast dishes are clean, you scurry back to your library with John right behind you. Your journal and miscellaneous papers are still spread around the floor from the night before. John had really given you some wonderful stories to fuel your imagination, and now it's time to incorporate them into your book. 

By the door, John stands perfectly still, aside from the sly glances he throws your way. Seeing him stand over there by himself tugged at your heartstrings a bit after the eventful morning you've had. It suddenly felt very selfish to have someone on their feet, at attention, all day and night just for you. From your seat on the floor, you gesture to the chair right beside you.

“You can sit down if you want. I'm sure you can still protect me from any threats just as well over here.”

“Thank you for the offer, Ms. Y/N, but it's in your best interest if I stay here.”

“Are you sure?” You think for a moment and then continue, “What if I said I felt way more safe with you sitting next to me?” 

John gives you a hint of a smile before quickly resuming his professional poker face, “I really shouldn't… but if it makes you feel safer, I guess I can do that.” 

You lean over and pat the cushion of your comfy chair, encouraging him to sit. He makes his way over to you and sits in your chair, sinking down into it like it was made for him. After a few minutes of sitting together in silence as you worked, you begin to wonder when the last time he was truly able to relax was. 

“Hey John?” You look up at him, journal in hand.

“Mhm?” His voice thick with unease as he looks down at you.

“Can I read you some of what I have written so far? Will you tell me what you think?” 

“Sure.” 

Ever so slowly, John starts to truly relax as he listens to you. He spreads his legs just so and lets his shoulders ease back into a comfortable position, listening to you intently as you tell him your story enthusiastically. You stop occasionally to get his opinion on a set of dialogue or how a sentence is phrased and he's more than happy to advise you. By the end of the day with him, you've completely filled another notebook and you've fallen totally head over heels for John. 

-

The next few days pass by in a blur. John assists you in nearly completing your book, lets you sneak outside again (a couple, glorious times), and he even makes breakfast for you on Saturday morning. 

On Saturday evening, knowing that he'll have to leave soon, you convince him to have a movie night with you by letting him pick whatever movie he wants. You make a huge bowl of popcorn for the occasion and get settled on the couch while John peruses your Uncle's movie collection. He decides on an obscure western you've never heard of, and settles onto the couch, leaving one seat's worth of space between you for the popcorn bowl. 

Subconsciously, you wish he was sitting closer, but you'll have to settle for accidentally touching hands while reaching for popcorn at the same time. 

So far, the movie is a total snoozefest. You wouldn't dare say that to John, considering he seems to be enjoying it. If it weren't for his proximity to you keeping your heart racing, you definitely would have nodded off by now. Surprisingly quickly you run out of popcorn, so you set the bowl on the coffee table to get it out of the way and break down that final barrier between you and John. 

Half way through the movie, you find yourself scooting inches closer to John. You hope he doesn't notice, but something about him just has a magnetic pull that draws you in effortlessly. 

-

Now three fourths of the way through the movie, you start to feel brave. Taking notice of how lonely his hand looks resting on his thigh, you make the bold move to place your hand over his during a particularly high action scene. His hand is warm against yours and the feeling sends tingles through your fingertips. 

You're pleasantly surprised when John doesn't shrug you off, but instead looks over at you with a small smile, before lacing his fingers with yours. Your heart is thumping inside your chest as he gives your hand a squeeze, but you're sure it's going to explode when he lets go of your hand to pull you into his lap. 

Your senses are overwhelmed as you get a light whiff of the warm spice of his cologne as you lean in close, taking all of him in. His hands are gently holding your hips as you wrap your arms around his neck. You look to him for silent permission before closing the gap between you, pressing your lips against his. The feeling in the air is positively electric as his lips meet yours. 

-

The two of you stay like that for what feels like hours. John's the one who breaks away from you first, looking absolutely debauched. His hair is slightly tousled, cheeks and lips are brushed red, and the lustful look in his eye is burning a hole right through to your center. 

It's him who decides to ignore the tenting in his pants and politely recommends that you go to bed. As much as it kills you to do so, you reluctantly peel yourself off of him and go straight to your room to take another painfully cold shower. 

Your entire night is filled with another round of tossing and turning mixed with racy dreams featuring your bodyguard, who never finds his way into your room throughout the night. You assume he's keeping watch from the living room, only slightly neglecting his duties of having an eye on you at all times. 

-

Saying goodbye to John the next morning may have been one of the most difficult things you've ever had to do. No amount of begging or tears could have changed Diego's mind. ‘Getting attached to these people is like falling in love with a mutt you know you can't keep. They're here for your protection, Y/N, not for you to play with.’ His words stung. Even if it was the truth, you didn't want to hear it.

With tears in your eyes, you watch through one of the library windows as John's car retreats down the driveway. The hole in your chest feels massive, like it’s destined to swallow you whole if you aren't careful. Holding yourself tight, you curl up in your comfy chair and cry. It's the only thing you can muster the energy for. 

-

KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK!

You're startled awake from your sleep by loud, insistent thuds of the brass door knocker echoing throughout the otherwise silent house. You're not sure how long you’ve been out for, but the sun has gone down and the only light left is coming from the crackling embers in the fireplace. Rubbing your eyes, you drag your feet to the front door and open it without thinking twice.

Standing on the other side is a wall of a man. He has to be taller than John by at least half a foot, and twice as wide. He's wearing a simple black suit, not unlike something one of your bodyguards would wear during their time here. That must be it, he’s the newest guard hired by Diego. Since you had been asleep, you haven't checked your phone yet to see if you had any missed calls from him.

“Y/N, I assume?” His voice sounds like gravel, in an unpleasant sort of way. It lands roughly on your ears and makes you wince.

“That would be me. Did Diego send you?” 

The man ignores your question and gestures towards the foyer, “Can I come in? It's freezing out here.”

“Uh, yeah, sorry, come on in.”

As you step back to allow him through, he slams a massive hand against the door, knocking it wide open and shoving you harshly onto the floor. Before you can make sense of what's going on, he's got a hand in your hair, dragging you further into the house. 

You kick and scream as he lugs you down the hall and into one of the spare bedrooms. You try digging your nails into the back of his hand but he doesn't seem affected by the pain as he picks you up off the floor and tosses you onto the bed. The second he lets go of your hair, you scramble off the bed and towards the door. In a flash, the man grabs you by the ankles and drags you back over to the bed. 

This time, when he chunks you on the mattress, he produces a gun from his waistband and places the cold barrel directly against your forehead.

“Don't move again or I'm gonna blow your fuckin’ brains out.” 

Your eye twitches as you stare at him, afraid to even blink. He puts the gun back in his waistband and reaches into a pocket inside of his suit jacket. Out of his it, he pulls a pair of shiny metallic handcuffs. 

You're tempted to make another run for it, but you recall the feeling of his gun against your skin and you decide better of it. He grabs one of your wrists and slaps a cuff onto it, and when he reaches for your other wrist, you snatch it away. 

This appears to be your second mistake of the night. The man rears back and slaps you harder than you've ever felt before. 

“Stop acting like a brat,” He hisses at you. 

Tears well up in the corners of your eyes as pain shoots through the side of your face. You barely register it as he successfully grabs your hand and places the remaining cuff around your wrist a little too tightly. The cuffs dig into your skin painfully, taking your mind off of the pounding in your head.

The mystery man paces around the room checking the windows and shutting the bedroom door before stopping in front of you. He places a hand on your shoulder and clears his throat to speak. 

“All right, listen. Here's how this is gonna go. When I get the go ahead from my Boss, I'm gonna kill you. Until then, we wait.” 

You shrug his hand off your shoulder and your brain starts to spiral into full blown panic mode. There's no way you can muscle your way out of this. You could try playing the money card, he might fall for it. 

“You don't have to do this. Do you want money? My uncle can pay you double whatever your boss is paying. Call him, I'm sure he-” The man presses a finger to your lips, shutting you up. 

“Stop talking.” 

With that, he goes back to pacing around the room, occasionally checking his phone for that green light to take you out. Your mind races a million miles an hour as you pull against the handcuffs, knowing you can't slip out of them. Sniffles fill the room while your eyes start watering again. The man gives you a disgusted look as your breathing quickens and your lip trembles. 

“Are you really crying right now? Give me a fuckin’ break. This is just business. Eye for an eye type deal,” He snarls before going back to the window.

“Shit. Shit!” 

He sees something he clearly doesn't like, and backs away from the window. In a huff, he's grabbing your arm, and snatching you off of the bed. You resist, pulling away from him and stumbling backwards. The man growls before charging at you, grabbing your waist, and hoisting you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. 

“Put me down!” You scream and pound your fists against his back to no avail.

With his other hand, he pulls out his cell phone and makes a call that goes unanswered. He hastily leaves the bedroom and carries you down the hall, heading towards the kitchen. You try to grab everything you can as you pass by to try and slow him down: the walls, picture frames, even a curio cabinet that only topples over and smashes, littering the floor with glass. Unaffected by your attempts, he stops in front of the back door, overlooking the patio. 

“Hope you like the cold,” He grumbles and opens the door, cold air blasting into the house. 

Not giving you a chance to resist this time, he walks out into the snow and tosses you on the ground, landing you hard in the snow. 

“Get up, come on,” He's got his gun out again, pointed directly at you, “Towards the trees. Go!”

You try to collect yourself to stand up, but you're shaking so bad that you can barely keep your balance on your bare feet. Lacking the patience to wait for you to get a grip, he tucks an arm underneath yours and starts dragging you along again. 

The cold bites against the skin around your cuffed wrists. Your feet are so painfully frozen, they almost feel warm as you try to keep up with the man holding a gun to your head. 

It's a long walk to the tree line and by the time you make it there, you can't feel your feet or hands anymore. Your pajama bottoms are soaked through from the snow and you're convinced there's no possible way you can take another step, so you don't. You collapse at the base of the nearest tree, slipping out of his grip. 

“Any last words?” The man raises his pistol to your head once more, “I'll make this quick.”

As you look up at him, your attention is drawn to the black outline of a figure running through the snow behind him, about halfway between the house and the trees. Your brows furrow in confusion, prompting the man to turn around and follow your gaze. 

“What the fu-” You watch in disbelief as a sickening splatter of blood, bone, and brain matter explodes from one side of his head, tainting the bright white snow with a glistening red. All that can be heard besides your own heavy breathing is the loud crack echoing against the mountains. The light disappears from his eyes as his body crumples beneath him, landing with a soft crunch as the snow packs down underneath. 

You'd scream if you could feel any part of your body, but the best you can do is screw your eyes shut and hope you're not next. Your tears freeze against your cheeks as you cry and hold your arms as close to your body as you can for warmth, even if it's futile. 

Not long after, you hear fast approaching footsteps stomping through the snow, headed right your way. 

“Y/N?!” Your eyes snap open. You know that voice. 

“J-J-” With how bad your teeth are chattering, it's hard to speak. 

In an instant, John is in front of you, pulling off his coat to wrap around you. He crouches down to eye level with you and places both hands on your cheeks, looking at you, his deep, brown eyes are full of concern. 

“Are you alright? Did he hurt you?”

You're not sure how to answer that question without crying even harder, so you just lift your hands up to show him the cuffs digging into your wrists. He seemingly understands what you're trying to say and turns towards the unmoving heap of a man on the ground. He searches through the man's pockets, pulling out a wallet, a cell phone, car keys, and finally, the keys to the handcuffs. John unlocks the cuffs quickly and tosses them into the snow beside you before gently rubbing the sore areas around your wrists. 

“Let's get you inside, hm?”

You nod eagerly and try to stand up with him, but you can't feel your legs and you end up losing your balance again, almost toppling over into the snow. Thankfully, John catches you before you hit the ground. 

“I c-can't-”

“Shh, I've got you. Hold on to me,” He reassures you. 

With that, John is placing your arm around his neck and picking you up bridal style. The walk back to the house seems even longer and colder than before. You hug his neck tightly as he carries you, hoping that your shaking doesn't bother him too much.

-

John carries you into the house, past the broken glass and snow that's blown in from the open doors, not stopping until he reaches your safe space, your library. He sets you down in your comfy chair and kneels down while holding your hand. 

“We have to get you out of these wet clothes, is that okay?” His tone is soft and sweet, yet urgent. 

Again, you nod and let him help you out of your freezing, wet pajamas. He starts with your bottoms, tucking his fingers under the waistband and pulling them down your legs. Next, he pushes the coat he gave you off your shoulders and carefully helps you lift your arms up to slide off your shirt. He dumps them in a soggy pile on the floor next to your chair.

“I'll be right back,” He pats your knee comfortingly before leaving the library.

You sit alone and shivering for a minute until John returns with a big, fluffy blanket. 

“Do you think you can take your underwear off by yourself?”

You look at him with wide eyes and then down at your hands. With how bad they are still shaking, and the fact you only kind of have feeling in them now, you aren't sure what you could do by yourself. 

“I'll help you. I won't look, just wrap yourself up in this.”

John wraps the blanket around the front of your body, then reaches around behind you to unclasp your bra and places it on top of your shirt in the pile. He kneels down again and reaches beneath the blanket, slowly pulling off your underwear and dropping them on top of your bra. You can feel your cheeks heating up from embarrassment, and you're glad at least some part of you seems to be warming up. 

Now that you're free from the clutches of the wet clothes, John turns away from you to relight the fireplace. While he's occupied, you pull the blanket around your shoulders and hold it closed in front of you, still partially numb to the fact that it was John who came to save you and you did not die back there. 

When he's finished with the fireplace, John comes back over and kneels on the floor in front of you, grabbing your hand and holding it tightly, like you'd float away if he lets you go. He still bears a twinkle of concern in his eyes but he doesn't say anything else. Together, you sit quietly, thawing out your extremities and regaining some of your composure. 

You’re first to break the silence once you're feeling properly warm again. 

“You came back?” You whisper.

“Of course I did, Y/N. I couldn't stay away.”

[lsunstreakerl]

2.2k of fmf! this is set in the future, with rico and mick :D lots of little max mentions throughout, and he pops up at the end briefly. rico POV.

this isn't technically spoilers for anything you guys don't already know, lol.

Rico grunts as his fingers dig into the cliff face, hauling himself up over the edge and collapsing. His harsh pants puff into the air above him as he rolls onto his side, finding Mick's wryly amused face.

"This,"

He takes another gasping breath, each inhale feeling like shards of ice scraping across his lungs.

"Explains a lot about Max."

Mick quirks an eyebrow at him, eyes glittering with amusement.

"Took you long enough."

Rico groans, sitting up as Mick's gloved hand extends in front of him, helping pull him to his feet.

"How the hell did you get up here so quick?"

Mick tips his head back to look up the rest of the cliff face, snow landing on his face as he shrugs.

"Practice."

Rico tries to imagine Max doing this— a smaller version of his husband scaling the cliff face, fingers stiff from the cold, blue eyes hard and determined. He can see it, as much as the image makes his heart clench.

"And we have to get to the top?"

Mick makes a so-so motion with his hand.

"Not necessarily— just high enough for the winreems to notice us."

He's grinning, but there's a predatory gleam in his eyes.

"That's when the hunt really starts."

Rico eyes the cliff face warily, trying to spot any of the creatures crawling high above them. He only has Max's previous descriptions to go off of— silvery creatures with scales thicker than armor, jaws that unhinge wide enough to snap a man in half.

He doesn't spot any.

"Why not draw them in now?"

Mick gestures at the snowy ledge they're resting on. It's not a very wide space.

"Do you want to fight here? The best chance is getting up top. There's more room. Also,"

He makes a face behind the scarf.

"There are weapons left behind there. It could be seen as honorable, giving the dead their final kill."

Rico swallows, glancing back down at the dizzying fall below them.

"Right."

------

His nose is tucked deep into his scarf, ice crystallizing on his lashes as he hauls himself up the cliff face behind Mick. The younger man makes it look effortless, no signs of hesitation as he climbs.

There's a deep ache starting to settle in his bones, burning low in his muscles as they finally clear the top. His fingers are numb inside of his fur lined gloves, but he feels another flash of determination each time he looks at the carefully woven leather bands decorating the wrists, or the claws sewn in above his knuckles.

They're a gift from Max, one he hadn't entirely understood at first— but he gets it now. Mick looks at him critically as they both stand.

"You sure you can handle this?"

Rico looks across the semi-flat plateau they've arrived at, eyes skipping over the lumps in the snow, glinting oddly in the light.

"Didn't you say there were weapons?"

Mick makes a face.

"Under the snow, if you're desperate enough— but the mountain doesn't care for memorials. You're probably walking on bones right now."

Rico's stomach churns as he looks at the snow beneath his boots, before looking back up at Mick. He can't see any judgment, but he knows that doesn't necessarily mean anything, especially not from Mick. He and Max are close, a strong bond Rico hadn't expected.

He's also mildly terrifying. When he'd come through the window and attacked Rico— He hasn't felt that kind of bone deep fear in years.

The fear of losing.

Mick claims now that he wouldn't actually have killed him, only that he was ensuring Rico was able to protect Max while he was incapacitated, but he's not entirely sure he believes it.

Either way, this is a test.

"I'm sure."

Rico isn't northern— doesn't have their deep customs and mentalities, and some days Max feels oceans away with how he thinks, following paths Rico doesn't understand.

That doesn't mean he's weak.

He's built his kingdom off the backs of men who have come after him, overseen the construction of villages and towns, personally handled more battles than he can count.

He wraps his fingers around the hilt of his sword, feeling his knuckles press against the bone of his gloves through the leather. This is for Max.

For their children.

Mick must see it in his eyes, nodding before he tugs his scarf down, hand coming to his mouth in a shrill whistle. The noise echoes a few seconds after he stops, piercing in the frozen air.

Rico startles when one of the lumps under the snow shifts, white powder falling in clumps as the rest of the lumps move as well.

The creature that cracks open a vivid orange eye at them sends chills down his spine. The color is almost an exact shade to the orange on Max's house crest— and he has a feeling he knows now where it comes from.

The snow falls off of it as it shakes, silvery scales glinting in the light. It has six legs, from what Rico can see— a long tail with a club at the end, and an elongated snout, jagged teeth snapping at the air as it howls at them.

Mick darts to the right, and Rico goes left. The winreem is fast, faster than he expects for a creature of its size, and he grits his teeth when the snout swings in his direction.

He'd used to wonder what kind of beast could leave the scar that Max has, ragged silver lines down his leg— but now he's wondering how that was the only injury his husband had gotten away with. The thought of Max fighting it, even younger than he'd been when Rico had first met him...

It's a bit late to be claiming revenge, but he'll give it his all anyways.

The winreem darts forward, moving with a rapid side to side pattern in a way that reminds him of sparring with Max, and it's habitual as he falls back into a feint, lunging in from the side to strike at one of its legs.

It's not a full power blow, but it's enough to easily knock a man in a suit of armor over, in Rico's experience.

It barely cuts into the winreem's scales.

He can briefly make out Mick, featherlight on his feet as he darts across the snow and slashes down at the tail.

The wind is whistling in his ears, but his blood is running hot as he feels the focus set in, senses hyperaware of everything around him.

He needs more power, he needs to get to the other leg, they need to slow it down, they need—

There.

He puts his full power into the next strike, feeling it cut deep into the scales and finally slice flesh. Steaming blood sprays out, boiling hot where it splatters against his face, melting the snow where it lands as the winreem screams, howl echoing off the mountaintop.

Mick brings his blades down in a spin that cuts deep into the tail, and the winreem thrashes, enraged.

Rico makes eye contact with Mick as they both dart back, circling slightly as the winreem snarls, eyes narrowed. It lunges at Mick next, and Rico takes the opportunity before he can think about it, leaping forward and gripping onto one of its spines, hauling himself onto its back.

The spine slices into his gloves, but it doesn't quite reach his hands, and he grabs the next one, climbing towards its head as it howls again, jaws snapping at him.

Mick distracts it with another attack at the legs, and Rico stumbles as the left side of the winreem buckles, almost losing his footing.

He can see it just in front of him, hidden from the front and the sides by the bone ridges of the skull— but the soft spot Max had mentioned is there. The scales are sparse, and the brain is just behind it, if Rico can get there.

Mick takes a hit to the side from the club of the tail, staggering with a gasp as he gains some ground backwards, and Rico takes the risk, letting go of the spines to lunge forwards, both hands bringing his sword directly into the unprotected hide.

His footing slips on the scales, and his shoulders jerk painfully as he drops off the side of the winreem, but he doesn't let go, and his blade pierces in, slicing past muscle and flesh.

The winreem staggers, unsteady footsteps to each side as Rico ducks his head, hot blood gushing down across his arms and splattering across his hood. He can feel the heat of it through the gloves, running in rivers down his arms. It doesn't manage to get between his skin and the leather, but he finally feels his feet brush against the ground as it collapses.

He squints his eyes open as he uncurls his fingers from his sword hilt. Mick has an odd expression on his face, eyes stuck on Rico's hands. The palms of his gloves are shredded, but his eyebrows furrow when he realizes the spine had come to a stop against a familiar silver hide.

He lifts his hands, inspecting the palms. The inner layer of the gloves, tucked between the fur lining and the leather— it's winreem hide.

Mick shakes his head disbelievingly.

"Did he tell you to climb the spines?"

Rico looks back at the winreem, and then down to his gloves again.

"No. He never mentioned that part at all."

There's a soft laugh from Mick as he steps closer, gesturing for Rico to pull his sword back out.

"That's because it's suicidal, usually. The only other person I've seen pull it off is Max, and he's been trained on winreem fighting since birth. Your evasions though..."

Rico yanks his blade out, carefully avoiding another hot rush of blood. Max has always been at his most dangerous when sparring footwork with him, but he's thinking about it now— the fast evasions, the quick strikes—

Max has been fighting him like a winreem. Max's entire style is the winreem, evasive and beautifully dangerous, disguised under soft blankets of snow and a slow, simmering patience.

He looks back at the gloves, and then at Mick.

"You think he knew? That I would go for the spines?"

Mick shrugs, still eyeing his palms incredulously.

"I have no idea, Verhoeven. I've never been able to keep up with him. But— for you both to do the same move... That was weird. I feel like I was thrown back in time."

Rico gives a wry grin and a shrug.

"Well, we should get back so I can figure out what part of his leathers he took this hide from— he needs it now more than ever."

He's frowning as he thinks about it. If he could hide Max behind a wall of winreem hide he would. They're not entirely sure, but he's been weaker lately, frequent bouts of nausea he thinks Rico doesn't know about.

He's got a solid enough suspicion that he's out here on a mountaintop, getting ready to lug a winreem corpse back into the village, in order for their children to be protected.

Max is going to kill him when he finds out that this is the diplomatic trip he was talking about, but Rico's been planning it quietly for ages, even before the transfiguration. Ever since Max had finally told him about the winreems, he'd understood that it was a challenge. A real one, to prove his commitment to his husband and his family.

He's slowly earned respect from the North, but this kill is his. His blade sunk into the skull, his leathers bloodstained and wet with melted snow. He feels practically feral up here, energy running through him.

The fight for survival here is unlike anywhere else he's ever been, intoxicating in its intensity.

Mick steps forward, lightly punching him in the shoulder. Already, Rico can see a difference in him, in the way he's being viewed. Mick is treating them like equals.

"Come on, winreem killer. We have to get this thing back down the mountain."

Rico makes a face as Mick laughs. He can't even imagine...

"How did you and Max do it? You must have been tiny."

Mick's mouth curls at the edges, mischievous glint in his eyes.

"We rolled it and then dropped it off of a cliff."

Rico eyes the cliff face, and then the winreem.

"Tempting."

------

"I am going to kill you—"

"Max, my love, I was with Mick the entire time, nothing was going to happen—"

Rico ducks as a leather boot goes flying over his head, and Max takes another step forward, second boot in hand.

"Oh, nothing? Just a casual little winreem hunt? Do you think I'm stupid?"

Rico winces as Max gets closer, eyes narrowed. It's not good for his health when Max yells at him— he gets too distracted by the blue of his eyes, the annoyed tilt to his mouth. Today is no different.

"I stayed back here because you had to be on your diplomatic trip, and you're telling me I could've been winreem hunting?"

Rico can't hide the amused twitch to his mouth fast enough, and Max gets his fingers curled in the front of his cloak, yanking him down so they're eye level.

"You're sleeping across the hall tonight."

"Max—"

[anachronismstellar]

DOES SQH SLEEP WITH WITH A MONK PEAK LORD???

IT'S CALLED SQH GOTTA GET THEM ALL, MY FRIEND, OF COURSE HE DOES

Sorry it took me so long, had to do a bit of research that turned out to be a lot of research BUT HERE YOU GO

I got the name Gao Qinggao from the amazing 00janeblonde and their FAQ of their fic here

Heads up for me bullshiting a lot of things Airplane style lol

Also bondage and praise kink?

I hope y'all like it!

---------

Ku Xing Peak wasn't one of the most prestigious among its siblings, far from it. If one compared it to the beauty of Qing Jing, the forests of the Scholary Mountain would be greener than emeralds. Or if one searched for riches and luxury, they would have better luck going to Xian Shu Peak, Qi Qingqi sparing no coin to accommodate her disciples.

But if they were allowed to take pride in something, it would be their talismans. From the most basic trick like heating water to the most intricate barriers and bindings, their work had been a reference throughout the cultivation world. If there was a talisman, they would have been involved in either its creation or its improvement.

So imagine what a surprise it was to see the An Ding Peak Lord using talismans Gao Qinggao had never seen before.

First, he thought it was an artifact. Shang-Shixiong was close friends with higher peaks, thus being able to pull favors and acquire relics he would never dream to see. The problem with that theory is that he had seen his own surprised mirrored on Shen Qingqiu's and Zhangmen-Shixiong faces as Shang Qinghua took a folded paper from his sleeve and pressed it into the table. It grew in size until it occupied the entire top of it with a huge map, detailed descriptions of the regions, and topography showing next to the main locations. It would be difficult, and it would take a lot of effort, but this effect could be done with a mixture of talismans after modifying certain radicals.

What made him pause was that, during their talk Mu-Shixiong asked about a specific place and Shang-Shixiong just put his both hands over it, dragging them away from each other making the map focus more and more until they could see the vegetation and when they were finished Shang-Shixiong dragged his hands again but closer, making the map to go back to it's original level of detail.

That would be mixing two types of talismans that shouldn't work together, you can't have one without nullifying the other and-

Gao Qinggao was intrigued.

The technique was interesting, yes, but it wasn't his area of expertise. He had always been a more practical person, focusing his studies on suppression of energy and Qi restoration. Meaning, he could just brush it off and send one of his disciples to ask about it later.

But the fact that he could just ask and understand was a compelling argument.

"Shixiong used a very unique technique today at the meeting. I had never seen someone use talismans to make images show up like that," he approached the other when he had finally left Shen Qingqiu's side. "This one is very interested in learning how Shang-Shixiong did that."

"Oh er," Shang Qinghua blinked, fiddling with the folded paper on his hand before hiding it away. "This little thing? Uh. I don't know if- Uh, I don't know the technique, I just found it- yea! I found it in ah. Oh I don't remember but-"

"Oh?" He wouldn't deny he was a bit disappointed, but not surprised. "Do you mind if I borrow it for research? I've never seen talismans interacting like that, I know some disciples that would be delighted to see it as well."

Shang-Shixiong started to fidget, picking on his sleeve where the paper had been hidden, looking everywhere, but Gao Qinggao.

"I'd love to, really, but this is kinda vital for my peak? I'm afraid I can't lend it. It has got all the trading information and our suppliers, I can't risk it."

"I understand. Would Shixiong allow one of my disciples to go to An Ding to examine it then?"

"I'm afraid the information is too sensitive to be examined by someone outside Lord ranking and-"

Ah. He almost heard the sound of a coin dropping.

He was a bit younger than the others, coming to his position by an urgency of appointing someone to fill his master's place. Not to say he wasn't competent, far from it, but he was aware that his situation and age made the other peak lords underestimate him, or dismiss his opinion when the topic diverted from talismans.

Another disadvantage of his age: he hadn't had the time to mellow down; to reign his fury as expected from a monk. He was no Liu Qingge, of course, but with enough pressure...

"This one apologies for bothering Shang-Shixiong." He spit through clenched teeth, making a point of leaving without a bow, his breathing so labored that one could hear it all the way from the demon realm.

How dared Shang Qinghua hide this knowledge from him?! From his peak?! And what was the point of hiding it anyway? Wouldn't be wise to share it so they could improve it?

Maybe Shang Qinghua was using something forbidden. But there were layers upon layers of protective arrays in the meeting room. The smallest fizzle of demon energy would set off the alarms.

So there must be another reason for Shang-Shixiong to not let him at least look at the desing. Could it be- No.

Did Shang Qinghua think he couldn't learn it?

Ooooh, that just made him more furious.

It might be difficult, but now that Gao Qinggao knew it was possible, he would be able to replicate somehow. His Head disciple could handle the next weeks by themselves, he would grab all the books and parchments they had about redimensioning images, also the ones they had about crystal mirrors and how they were made.

Then he would rub it off Shang Qinghua's face. And maybe spend two weeks in inertia to balance all the spite and anger he was feeling.

---------

It didn't work.

Gao Qinggao laid on his private quarters with piles of papers around him, some crumbled up, others torn into pieces. Blessed be the Heavens that he had never minded being under inertia for long periods of time, because he couldn't remember the last time he ate.

Every single attempt he had made, failed.

Not for his lack of knowledge, he could see where the logic behind it, but it was if the structure kept dancing in front of him, fluttering away like a bird as soon as he reached to grasp it.

Where in all realms had Shang Qinghua found this technique?! Maybe in the Demon Realm? But none of the books that they collected from there had anything like it.

To put it mildly, he was furious.

He was starting to consider that Shang Qinghua was the one who wrote it, and his handwriting was so atrocious he created something without intention. The problem with this is that one, he hadn't seen the talisman close enough to see if it was Shang-Shixiong's handwriting. Second, it was impossible for him to have created it accidentally, the amount of contradictions and spells that had to be put on the paper, on top of using the right ink for it...

He just needed to look at it. Just to look to have a direction to where to start.

He put everything away and stood up, dusting his clothes, calling for a bath even though it was the middle of the night.

He was going to An Ding.

----

"You are a good person, and you will be an amazing Lord, Gao Qinggao," his old master said while passing the Peak Lord robes to him, the soft brown and gray so plain one wouldn't recognize him as a high cultivator outside the Peaks. "Just promise me you will work on your temper."

And he had promised, with heavy heart and aware that would be an ever losing task. He had done his best over the years and had made progress.

But not enough it seemed.

"I have all night, Shidi, and we know I'm more patient than you."

Gao Qinggao ignored the voice across the room, testing the bindings around his wrist as he controlled his breathing. When he had flew to An Ding and tried to sneak inside Shang-Shixiong's house, he wasn't exactly thinking. All he could remember was his blood boiling, eyes seeing red while his mind kept going on and on and on that he was doing this for the good of the Sect, that Shang-Shixiong was the one in the wrong for keeping secrets, that he was just going to look that's all.

He failed to consider that a man with secrets like Shang Qinghua wouldn't survive this long if he weren't good at keeping other people away.

"Shidi," Shang Qinghua gave him a tired sigh that Qinggao ignored to focus on more important things such as at least getting his hands free. "If Shidi doesn't talk to me, I have no way to help you."

He kept his mouth shut. To be honest he didn't even know what to say. He had no plan, he just wanted to take a look at the map! Frustration burned his face red, showing up in blotches that went all the way up his shaved head.

"Very well, Shidi. Let's do it your way then."

He glanced at Shang Qinghua, but a second later the other peak lord left his line of sight. There was the sound of a chair dragging through the floor, then callous fingers grabbed both of his wrists, the thumb pressing against his pulse.

It was as if Shang Qinghua had dropped snow water down his spine, the array drawn on the ground shinning for a second or two before the was released. He felt his body sag, his quick reflexes barely saving him from falling on his face.

"Now, Shidi, this is a very simple array, one that you know very well, I believe," Shang Qinghua dragged the chair again, this time sitting in front of Gao Qinggao, elbows on his thighs, the low light playing shadows on his face, turning his expression somber.

Gao Qinggao couldn't help but shiver, dread tickling down his neck and chest, realizing that he might have entered the tiger's den. And once more, he was hit with a mix of feelings towards the other man. He couldn't help the anger bubbling under his skin, forcing him to slam the barrier with his open hand, all in vain. But at the same time-

At the same time.

His mouth felt dryer than a desert. He exposed like an open wound as Shang Qinghua stared at him up and down and then up again, the usual bubbly and warm expression nowhere to be seen. No, that face he had seen only a handful of times, either when the Sect Leader was about to do something stupid to protect Shen Qingqiu, or when the peak lords were not behaving during peak meetings.

To be under the entire focus of it felt as if the rest of the world grew quieter, a little darker, the lights clinging to Shang Qinghua as if he were glowing with unreleased power.

"A simple truth array, but I bound you to it, so you may not leave." Shang Qinghua's low voice reverberated in the tiny room, their faces separated only by the shimmery wall. "As you have decided to be difficult, I have decided it was time for you to be a bit more truthful."

"How dare you demand truths when you are the one holding back secrets!" He couldn't help but shout, unable to hold back in face of such hypocrisy.

Like clouds parting after heavy rain, Shang Qinghua’s face relaxed, his whole posture softening up to his usual friendly self. He groaned, his deep sleepy voice waking up something in Gao Qinggao's belly, making him blush for another reason entirely.

"Oh Gao-shidi," he kept his voice down, followed by a chuckle. "Is this still about the map?"

His amusement only fanned the ember of his anger, making it burn brighter. How dare Shang Qinghua mock him? How dare he laugh at him like a cruel demon trapping Gao Qinggao and treating him like a play thing?

"Of course it is! You denied my single request for you while raining gifts to all the other lords! I'm tired of bland favoritism, my peak and I might live a frugal life, but aren't we also requested to share our precious knowledge?!"

He had been so worked up he didn't realize the moment Shang Qinghua shifted his feet, ready to pounce, releasing the array but grabbing Gao Qinggao hands once more, twisting his arms to bind them against his chest.

"You're a feisty one, I've forgotten that," he commented as he slowly lowered Qinggao on the floor, making him kneel, the sound of paper followed by the dry sensation of it on his legs making him flinch. He struggled for a few moments, giving up as soon as Shang Qinghua gave him another chuckle.

He was truly trapped.

"Tell me shidi, what is upsetting you? The fact that you were denied something you took for granted as yours or the fact that you haven't been praised for your contributions to the Sect?"

He was rendered speechless, the fire in his belly almost an inferno, his breath picking up but not in anger. He couldn't hold back a gasp, shame and desire clashed upon him as he felt stripped naked by how easily Shang-Shixiong had seen him.

"Is that it then? Praise?" Shang Qinghua started to walk around him, humming as he touched the back of his robes, fixing the sleeve that had slipped down his shoulder, inked fingers brushing over his clavicle. "Gao-shidi has been so good for us. So kind to share his talents."

He felt paralyzed, hands closed in a tight fist, desperate to cover his face, to hide his shame, unable to move. He was pinned down by burning brown eyes, the light reflecting on them, turning them into gold. It had been years, so many years since he had felt so stricken by desire. And to be hit full force with his sultry voice was- was unexpected, that's all!

"This Shixiong apologies for denying your request. You've been one of the most valuable resources for our Sect, you should be told how good you have been."

"W-What?"

"You're such a good craftsman, Gao-shidi, your talismans are without flaws. I can release you and show you a few of my own."

He didn't mean for the low soft "Please" to leave his mouth, not even sure anymore of what he was asking for. Yes he desperatly wanted to see the talismans, but he was also desperate to feel Shang-Shixiong touch him, somewhere, anywhere, just to do something, take responsibility for setting off this fire on him!

"... Unless you prefer to stay like that?" Shang Qinghua's asked as he touched Gao Qinggao's cheek, brushing his fingers along his jaw so he could tilt Qinggao's face up. "Bound by talismans you can't break?"

"Oh heavens-" he moaned, truly moaned as he closed his eyes, wishing for any Gods that might hear him to swallow him whole when he noticed the damp spot on his pants.

"It's okay shidi," Shang Qinghua's hands went down his neck, fingers brushing the sensitive skin of his shoulders, sliding under his robes. "We can work on your patience as we go."

------------------

do I feel slightly blasphemous for writing this? Yes

Do I believe that this is what Airplane would have wanted? Abso-fucking-lutely

And as we can see I'm upping my rating as we go fjsbskdnskfm not full explicit but maybe,,,,,,,,,,,, who knows

Thank you so much for the ask and for giving this a read!! :D

Here is the masterpost of this insane AU asdhfiusdh

6/12 peak lords, Wine Peak here I gooooo!

[playstation-dreamcast]

im glad you enjoyed my lunch break idea <33

today i shall deliver sad stuff though. the infamous day at spencer mansion. wesker tried his best the previous days to make reader stay at home, not come at work. hell, he even tried to get them sick but it didn’t work because the moment they got to know that Bravo Team lost contact and they didn’t come back, reader was up immediately to help as well. wesker tried to keep them out of this (esp if the two of them are in a relationship at that point) saying they will handle the job and reader shouldn’t even come because they are a rookie and they risk to get hurt and be just a liability to team in case of something big happens, but reader didn’t listen and just went with them at Arklay Mountains. we know what happens there and i picture them two meeting in between of the mansion (just like wesker and jill). reader running to wesker and hugging him automatically, burying their face on his chest while in tears, terrified by what they’re seeing and happening bc wdym zombies exist?? monsters?? how is someone supposed to take this discovery???

but mostly the reason why im writing this is for what happens when they find out wesker was the one behind all of that. reader is there when he reveals he was the one who brought them there, that he planned all of this, that hes the one who killed Captain Enrico too. reader’s heart would break in million pieces to say the minimum and tears would fill their eyes as they listen to wesker’s explanation about his plan to jill (and/or) chris. then when wesker gets impaled by the tyrant and threw on the ground, reader runs to him in tears and although he’s dead (i mean…sorta of, not permanently LMAO) they kneel down and hug him while they’re sobbing their heart out remembering all their memories they had until now. the others are fighting the tyrant while reader is just there not even caring if they die or not because what’s the point? after they kill the tyrant they drag away reader from his dead body because the place will blow up and they have such a hard time to drag reader away from wesker’s dead body and before they drag reader away, reader gives wesker a necklace their grandma gave them that held an important meaning to them and puts it on him before they get dragged away by the others and brought to the chopper.

so how do you think wesker would feel about it when he wakes up and he sees that the necklace reader always wore and talked about it was now on him?? bonus point if he remembers a little of when he “died” and he heard reader sobbing on his body hugging him and say his name and say they loved him (even after everything. i think reader probably said something like “i should fucking hate you but i cant, i still love you so much”) while the others were fighting. in my head reader has always been the complete opposite of wesker, so someone very extroverted, sweet, kind, warm, caring and innocent. so i’d like to imagine that it somehow broke wesker’s heart seeing the person that made him realize he could feel like any other human emotions like the others get tainted and broken by his own hands when all he remembers is just them being the sunshine of the station and of his life. i’d also love to believe that he always kept the necklace with him, maybe inside the pocket of his pants throughout the events of like cvx, re4 etc like a luck charm to remember him about reader and maybe to give it back to them one day when their path will cross again

So, I tweaked this one a tad just to make it work better with my brain, and I hope that's okay, lol

Now Loading...

Character Selection: S.T.A.R.S Wesker x Reader

Content Warning: Angst

Thank You For The Request!

Wesker thought it was stupid when you gave it to him. The necklace your grandmother had given you, the white gold patinated with age but the ruby in the pendant still as dazzling as the day it was given to her- way back in the 1940’s- according to you. 

You’d called it a good luck charm. Said it had protected your family in the past and it would protect him now. He argued if it was so magical, then obviously you should be the one to have it- it protected your family, after all. You were having none of it though. You insisted that he should wear it, you’d feel better if he was the one wearing it. That we had no idea what was in the Spencer Mansion, or what had gotten Bravo team that made them stop communications. So, even if it was silly, or superstitious, you didn’t care. You just wanted some peace of mind that he was protected- even if it was a false sense of security.

He should have told you right then and there that he knew exactly what was in the Spencer Mansion, and was pretty sure he knew what got Bravo team too. He should have used that to make you stay the fuck home. He’d tried everything he could think of. He tried to tell you they needed someone to stay back and maintain communications lines in case Bravo team tried to make contact. You said the RPD could handle that just fine without you.

Okay, well there really wasn’t enough room in the helicopter for you to come anyway. You said “Well, I guess we’ll just have to make room then, won’t we?” He told you your expertise wouldn’t be needed. You asked him in what world would a medic not be needed in this situation?

He pulled rank on you. “As your captain, I refuse to put my rookie in the direct line of  danger.”

You laughed in his fucking face. “I assure you, captain, I’ll be just fine. Thanks.” Which, honestly not only kinda hurt his ego, but it pissed him off. Had he really been so soft with you that you felt you could just talk back to him like that? He may have been your boyfriend at home, but at work he was still your captain. Something you clearly had no respect for. 

And yet, even as you had disrespected him to his face he just wanted to keep you safe. He got desperate enough to try and fake you having a fever, pressing a hand to your forehead and claiming you felt warm, you should really go home and rest. This, obviously, did not work- seeing as you were a medic first and foremost. It was a hail mary at best. 

He’d bet you wished you’d listen to him now. Maybe then you could still be living in blissful ignorance. 

He could feel his heart ossifying in real time as he watched Jill and Chris escort you down to that lab. He could still feel the way your body slammed into his in the lab. How you buried your face in his chest, thanking whatever entity that would listen that he was alive. And begging him to tell you it wasn’t true. What the others were saying, it was wrong, right? He couldn’t have been behind this, he would never hurt the team like this, “You’re not involved with Umbrella, tell them Albert, tell them!”

He held you a little tighter, because he knew this was going to be the last time; he wanted to ingrain the way you felt in his arms into his memory forever. And, because he really didn’t want to see your face when he told you the reality of the situation.

“I think you’re a little confused Dear. I’ve always been with Umbrella. And S.T.A.R.S we’re always Umbrella’s- no, rather, my little piggies.”

If words were weapons, those one must have hit you like a hydrogen bomb. You ripped yourself away from him, searching his face for any sign that he was lying. That it was some sick joke, and that the last two years of your life hadn’t been a complete lie. In reality, it hadn’t been. He was genuinely fond of you, and against his better judgement, had let himself get attached. Sadly, he couldn’t let petty attachments stand in his way now- not when he was standing on the edge of something more. Something greater.

“The tyrant virus leaked, and sadly I had to give up my lovely members of S.T.A.R.S” The others might have been there, but they were as good as invisible to Wesker. His eyes were locked on yours. 

You shook your head. “No…No, that can’t be right. No, You- I- We-” You screamed out in frustration, and he tried to ignore the way his chest tightened. The instinct he had to try and pull you back into his arms. You shook your head violently. “That’s bullshit Albert! It couldn’t all have been faked! You can’t fake that! You can’t fake l-”

“Sorry sweetheart,” He cut you off. He wasn’t sure he could handle you saying the L-word right now. “You’ve always been expendable. All of you have. But, if it’s any consolation, you were always my favorite.” He truly did not mean for that to come out as sarcastic, or vile as it did but- it was probably better it came out that way. 

“You bastard!” You snapped.

“You killed Enrico with your own dirty hands!” Chris snapped, hiding his own devastation behind his anger, “You son of a bitch-”

Chris tried to approach, but found himself staring down the barrel of a gun before he could get very far. “Enrico?” Wersker asked, tilting his head as if he was trying to remember his co-captain. Then smiled like he remembered. “Yes. I’m a fair man. I’ll destroy all of you S.T.A.R.S, along with this entire place.”

“You’re just like all the other things,” Jill sneered, “A slave to Umbrella.”

Jill was standing a little too close to him to be throwing words like “slave” around. You yelped in disbelief as you watched your beloved Captain pistol whip one of your closest friends. He almost stopped you from rushing over to Jill, but decided that it probably wasn’t worth the effort.

He pointed the gun back at Chris before he could get any smart ideas, but his eyes didn’t leave the two of you. “Smart girl.” He scoffed, “But I’m afraid you’re also a little confused. The things you mentioned are nothing. I’ll burn them along with this entire laboratory. And that will be the end of my connection to Umbrella.”

You looked up at him, eyes glossy with the tears you were fighting. He reminded himself of how you laughed at him back at the station, and it helped quell the urge to try and comfort you. Not that he could be really comforting right now. 

“I don’t understand.” You whispered past the sob in your throat. 

He rolled his eyes. “Of course you don’t. Stand up. I want to show you something.”

The rest was a blur. Wesker had expected to die, but some part of him hadn’t expected it to be so…

Slow. He didn’t expect to have time to hear you call out for him, or feel you rush to his side to try and administer a pathetic attempt at first aid while the others fought for your lives. He didn’t think he’d be able to feel your tears fall onto his face. 

“I should hate you,” You hissed in between sobs and attempts to stop the bleeding- despite the fact you’d seen him skewered clean through, “I should fucking hate you for what you did. You’re a monster.”

His hand reached up to caress your face. He wanted the last thing he saw in this life to be you. Your eyes locked with his. “But I can’t,” you whimpered, “I can’t stop loving you. Do you know how pathetic that makes me?”

If he looked closely he could see it. The sun setting in your eyes. The darkness seeping out of him and into you. He always knew he had no business coveting something as sweet as you, but that had never stopped him before. And now he had to watch his blood stained your hands and his sins stained your soul. It gave him a sick comfort knowing you would never be the same.

You’d never forget him. “We need to go!” Jill yelled, pulling you away from Wesker's cooling body, “This place is going to blow!”

“No!” You argued, “I can’t just leave him! I can’t abandon him, I can’t!” 

Chris didn’t even bother with words. Between him and Jill they managed to pick you up, both of them carrying you away kicking and screaming from the former captain's corpse as his vision faded out.

Waking up was a blur. Leaving the Spencer Mansion was blurrier. The week after the incident was the blurriest. He wasn’t sure when he realized he still had your grandmother's pendant around his neck. He was almost shocked you hadn’t taken it off him, but then again, there was a lot going on. 

He thought about throwing it away. Pawning it off, or just giving it away. It didn’t feel right though. The weight of your love for him, dangling around his neck, had become familiar and comforting, no matter how suffocating it was at times. It was almost pleasant to think that he was capable of love, at one point in his life. At least he liked to think he was. 

Progenitor had dulled his emotions to near nothing, so it was genuinely shocking to him when his throat tightened when he saw you again. Running around rural Spain with the government's golden boy like decapitated chickens looking for the president's daughter.

His fingertips brushed the ruby around his neck. He thought of you, smiling in your apartment, laughing with Jill, crying over his corpse. And he smiled. Looks like he’d finally get a chance to return his little memento.

[my-religion-greek-myth]

Freedom far away - B

Yap, until my kink is satisfied, I'll keep writing these lol Who knows, once I'm satisfied, I'll stop writing suddenly. I'll prolly writing whole night tho..

Thanks all for liking this. Some of you probably noticed, that this story isn't set in America cuz this is all inspired by my own fanart (Korean Joseon Era), but I try to be subtle about any indications, so you can just imagine as some whre in western or other american town other than westview or salem.

Freeom far away - A

Fem Reader X Agatha X Rio

The first time you met Agatha and Rio, their presence lingered in your mind long after you exchanged names and hurried home. As you retreated, Rio's voice had called out, "See you later," her tone playful and lilting with a hint of laughter. You did not dare look back, but their gazes had felt almost tangible—slithering and coiling around you as if urging you to turn. It took every ounce of willpower to keep walking, to not succumb to the strange pull that seemed to emanate from them.

Days had passed since that encounter at the well, but their image haunted you. Whether you were studying, eating, or even engaging in conversation with your family, part of your mind was consumed by thoughts of the duo. You found yourself unconsciously touching your right hand, where Agatha's fingers had briefly brushed against yours. No other touch had ever left you feeling so electric, so unsettled. Their memory persisted like a faint melody you could not shake, and you found yourself debating—should you return to the well? Could you face them again? Would they even still be there?

With a deep sigh, you made up your mind. Opening the door to the courtyard, you noticed three servants diligently cleaning. One of them glanced up and immediately bowed when he saw you.

"Is there something you need, milady?" he asked nervously, his voice trembling as if he feared some unspoken reprimand.

You blinked, realising you had been unconsciously glaring in his direction, your mind preoccupied with Agatha and Rio. You opened your mouth to respond but thought better of it, shaking your head instead. You slipped on your shoes and made for the main entrance without another word.

"Where are you going?" came the familiar voice of your younger sister behind you.

You turned sharply, raising an eyebrow at her. Standing beside her was your younger brother, both looking at you with curious expressions.

"Did grandfather send you to keep an eye on me?" you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Your siblings and even the nearby servants visibly recoiled at the authoritative edge in your voice. It was a tone you seldom used, but it had a way of surfacing when you were particularly annoyed—or, in this case, deeply conflicted. And today, your irritation was palpable. The pull towards Agatha and Rio, the confusion they stirred in you, made you want to brush off any interaction with your family and rush to them.

Your sister quickly composed herself, though a frown etched on her face. "I was just asking. No need to snap," she muttered.

"We’re going to Jun’s house for archery practice. Want to come with us?" your younger brother interjected, clearly trying to ease the tension before it could escalate. He knew all too well how quickly tempers could flare between you and your sister.

"No, thank you," you replied curtly. "I have other matters to attend to."

"As if," your sister scoffed. You could almost picture her shaking her head in exasperation, arms crossed in that typical defiant stance of hers. But you did not care. Ignoring her remark, you stepped outside, your pace quickening as you made your way back to the well, determined to see if Agatha and Rio were still there.

---RAR---

The looming shadow of the mountain cast a dark veil over the well, making the place feel unusually eerie despite the daylight. You glanced around nervously, unsure why the familiar space suddenly made your body shiver. Your eyes caught the fluttering ribbons tied to the shaman's tree, their vibrant colours contrasting with the oppressive silence.

"Well, well, we have the pretty lady back here," came a lively voice.

Startled, you jumped and turned to see Rio, her warm brown eyes glinting with amusement as she chuckled softly. In her left hand, however, was a small dagger that gleamed faintly in the dim light. Beside her, Agatha stood poised, her fingers grazing her lips, a faint smile playing on her face as if she were appraising you.

"I told you we'd meet again, didn’t I?" Rio said, her steps deliberate and confident as she walked toward you.

Instinctively, you stepped back, but in your haste, your heel caught the edge of the well. Your breath hitched as you felt yourself teetering backward, the dark depths of the well below you. Before you could fall, a firm hand grabbed your arm. Rio, her grip strong yet gentle, pulled you back to safety.

The touch sent a jolt through you—an unfamiliar sensation that made time to slow. You had read about such moments in the romantic novels you had secretly consumed with your noble friends, moments you had laughed at for their absurdity. Yet here it was, and it was undeniably real. A sudden warmth spread across your face as you realised what had happened. Rio smirked, her gaze sharp yet teasing.

"Oh, don’t tell me you’re blushing, doll," Agatha said, her melodic laughter carrying a mischievous edge. She stepped closer, her ocean-blue eyes darkening briefly, like the sky before a storm. For a moment, you could not decide whether her eyes were a deep navy or an ethereal blue, but you knew they were the most captivating thing you had ever seen.

Before you could reply, Rio suddenly pulled you closer. Your face pressed against her chest—a distinctly feminine curve beneath the garments that suggested otherwise. Her warmth and the steady rhythm of her heartbeat enveloped you in a strange comfort. Without thinking, your arms circled her in an unconscious embrace.

Agatha pouted dramatically, crossing her arms as she watched. "Seems someone’s getting all the attention," she remarked, her tone playfully aggrieved.

"Don’t worry," Rio murmured above you, her voice teasingly soft as her breath tickled your hair. "I think the pretty lady has enough love for both of us."

The comment made you stiffen. You pushed against Rio’s chest, but she let you go with an easy laugh, nudging you backward—right into Agatha’s arms.

You gasped as you felt Agatha’s hands steady you, her grip firm yet gentle around your middle. Her scent—subtle and intoxicating—filled your senses as she leaned down, resting her chin lightly on your head.

"You smell nice, doll," Agatha murmured, her voice low and velvety, sending shivers down your spine.

Your heart raced your mind a whirl of confusion and resistance. You had come to the well seeking answers to the strange pull you felt toward them, but now they were toying with you, unravelling your composure as if it were child’s play.

"Why are you here, pretty lady?" Rio asked, stepping closer. Her long fingers lifted your chin effortlessly, forcing your gaze to meet hers.

You froze, unable to look away. Her darkened eyes were filled with a predatory intensity that made her presence feel overwhelming. Behind you, Agatha’s hands brushed through your hair, loosening it from its neat styling. The gentle motion was so intimate that it made your breath hitch again.

"Answer her, doll," Agatha’s voice purred in your ear, her warm breath caressing your skin.

You could not speak. The sensations overwhelmed you; Rio’s fingers tracing your face, Agatha’s hand trailing through your hair, the suffocating awareness of their proximity.

"How are we supposed to get to know you if you won’t answer?" Rio whispered, her face now so close to yours that her nose almost brushed against yours.

Agatha’s fingers tangled gently in your hair, her touch sending a new wave of shivers through your body. You were caught between them, their presence intoxicating and inescapable, as if the world had narrowed to just the three of you. You did not know whether to flee or surrender to the strange pull that bound you to them.

"I'm…" Your voice trembled. "I'm not scared of you two."

"That's not an answer," Agatha's voice carried a hint of a frown, but it softened quickly. "But I'm glad you're not scared of us." Her lips brushed lightly against your ear, sending a burning sensation through it.

"I can't stop thinking about you two," you finally admitted, gulping hard.

Rio pulled her face back, and, to your surprise, you felt a pang of disappointment.

"Why?" Rio asked, tilting her head, her eyes gleaming with mischief as they roamed over you. "We only told you our names."

"That's why I'm here," you said, frustration bubbling up. "I've never felt like this in my life!"

Agatha chuckled, her laugh light but somehow weighted with something you could not identify. She finally released you, and seizing the moment, you stepped back. Both of them watched you with amusement, their darkened eyes betraying some unreadable intent you could not comprehend.

"You’ve never been in love before?" Agatha asked, smiling that same captivating smile she had worn when you first met. It was hypnotic, alluring—utterly impossible to look away from.

Your eyes widened. Love? The very idea made your stomach twist. Love? With them? You had only just met them, and to feel this way for two people at the same time? It defied all logic and everything you had ever been taught.

You took another step back, and still, they did not stop you. Their smiles only grew wider.

Panic surged within you, and you turned, fleeing towards the safety of your home.

As you ran, Agatha’s melodic voice rang out behind you, the sound trailing you like a spell.

"See you later, doll!"

---RAR---

Your footsteps thundered against the path as you bolted away from the well. Your mind was a cacophony of emotions—confusion, embarrassment, and a simmering warmth you could not quite place. Love? How absurd, you thought, shaking your head. You had only just met them. And two people? At once? The very idea seemed preposterous, something out of fanciful tales told to wide-eyed children.

The cool air brushed your face, but it did little to cool the heat rising in your cheeks. You could not forget the way Agatha’s lips brushed your ear or Rio’s gaze seemed to peel back every layer of your being, leaving you bare and exposed.

As you reached the entrance of your household, you slowed to a halt, clutching your chest as you tried to steady your racing heart. What was it about them? Their presence was unlike anything you had ever encountered—intoxicating, overwhelming, and magnetic.

"Milady?" a servant called, stepping cautiously into the courtyard from the backyard. "Is everything alright?"

You startled slightly, realising how dishevelled you must have looked from running. Straightening your posture, you smoothed your dress and forced a neutral expression onto your face.

"Yes," you replied curtly, brushing past her and heading toward your chambers.

Once inside, you closed the door firmly and leaned against it. The silence of the room felt suffocating, yet your thoughts continued to churn. Despite your attempts to banish them from your mind, their faces—Agatha’s piercing, ocean-like eyes and Rio’s mischievous grin—kept invading your thoughts.

You slid down against the door, your knees drawing up to your chest. What are they doing to me? You could not shake the feeling that this was only the beginning.

Part A | Part B | Part C&D | Part E | Part F | Part G | Part H | Part I&J | Part K | Part L | Part M | Part N | Part O&P | Part Q | Part ? | Epilogue

[kpoptrashibnida]

First Time Dad

A/N: Sorry for the crap title, but I couldn't think of anything better lol this is really just my brain rot. I am in love with this man and I was just imagining him as a father thanks to this episode. I don't want kids but I'd pop them out for this man. ANYWAY, before I get weirder, here is a quick little ramble of how I think it would go if Wooyoung was your husband, you guys had a baby and the rest of ATEEZ became uncles. I did not proofread lol and this is essentially like fluff or slice of life. Happy reading!

It had been a long day full of practice and Wooyoung was exhausted. The whole time he was at work, he was thinking of the precious person waiting for him at home. He was soon going to be taking some time off, so he needed to work overtime for now in order to make up for the time he is going to miss in the near future. He quickly leaves the practice room as soon as he can, slightly bumping into San on his way out, making the rest of the members giggle at his haste. He drove to the agency today because he wanted to make sure he got home as soon as possible after work was done, with no stalls along the way. He had placed an order for online pickup, since he knew his precious person was most likely going to be tired and he didn’t want them to cook. 

Wooyoung felt giddy as he opened the door to his house, expecting to see his precious person walking around, ready to greet him. He was met with silence and a dimly lit house. He instantly panicked but quickly calmed himself down, placing the food on the kitchen counter and walking around to look for his precious person. He could hear muffled voices coming from the living room and he figured you were there. He quietly walked over and peeked his head into the living room. The sight before him warmed his heart and pulled a huge smile on his face. 

There you were, his precious person, sound asleep on the couch. Your left hand placed over your belly, your wedding ring glistening with the light of the television playing in the background. You were surrounded by baskets of laundry, a mountain of unfolded clothes next to you. His heart ached at seeing you in this condition. You were tired and no matter how many times he told you to take it easy, that he could hire help to take some of the burden off of you, you insisted you were fine.

He quietly got up and picked up the water glass that was on the coffee table, as well as the bowl of chips. He walked to the kitchen and quietly washed the few dishes that were on the sink. He quickly wiped down the counters and sweeped the floor before heading to the master bedroom and taking a quick shower. He sweated a lot during practice and he was sure he smelled bad.

He went back out to the living room and saw that you were still sleeping on the couch. He plated your dinner and placed it on the coffee table, and cleared the baskets of laundry to avoid getting any of it dirty. He sat next to you and softly kissed your temple.

“Baby… wake up.” He lowly murmured near your ear, placing another soft kiss on your temple.

You didn’t stir or budge and Wooyoung felt a pang of guilt seeing how exhausted you really were.

“Baby… wake up… dinner is ready.” He says again, his pointer finger tracing the curve of your cute button nose. You still wouldn’t budge and he decided to do the thing he knew for sure would wake you up. 

He placed a kiss on your belly and laid his head on it, but not the full weight so he wouldn’t crush his baby.

“Peanut, wanna kick mommy awake?” He playfully spoke to the belly, blowing a soft raspberry on it, knowing that his Peanut would move around. 

He got what he wanted because he saw Peanut move around in the belly, their little feet creating a weird bump on the belly.

“Wooyoung?” You mumbled as you stirred awake, Wooyoung and Peanut were already an unstoppable team, getting exactly what they wanted. 

“Hi noona. Dinner is ready.” He said, wiping the sleepiness from your eyes.

You stirred awake and looked disoriented, looking around for your phone.

What time is it?” You asked, sitting upright and noticing that the laundry had been put away and the remainder had been folded and placed in the laundry basket. 

“I’m sorry.” You said, sounding sad as you looked at the food in front of you and the clean house.

“Why are you sorry?” Wooyoung asked, baffled, hating the sad expression in your eyes.

“Because I wanted to be productive! I wanted you to get home to a clean house, a cooked meal and I wanted to put Peanut’s clothes away in the nursery. But I got so tired! And I was going to take a small break on the couch and watch this new crime docuseries but I fell asleep. And now you get home tired after working all day, and you had to clean.” You explain on the verge of tears.

“Baby! Don’t say that! You were being very productive! You are making sure Peanut is safe and keeps growing! That’s more work and more tiring than anything I could ever do! Please don’t say that! And I told you I would put Peanut’s clothes away tomorrow since I’ll be off work. Peanut is almost going to join us, so I really want you to take it easy. Okay?” Wooyoung softly reprimanded. He couldn’t believe you were being this hard on yourself. 

“What if you get annoyed with me?” You basically whimpered, shattering Wooyoung’s heart.

“Noona! Don’t say such silly things! I could never get annoyed with you! You are the most important person in my life! And you are going to give me the second most important person in my life. How could I ever, in my right mind, get annoyed with you? I love you more than I can comprehend.” He reassured you, cradling your face in his hands and placing a firm kiss on your lips. 

“Now, I know for a fact that you and Peanut are hungry. Let’s eat before the food gets cold.” He instructed, handing you your plate and utensils. You spent the rest of the night cuddled up and happy with eachothers company.

---------------------------------------------------------

“Hurry! Close the elevator door!” Mingi instructed exasperatedly, annoyed that everything seemed to be moving in slow motion. 

“Calm down Mingi! We are moving as fast as we can.” Hongjoon reprimanded, trying to get the group calm because right now they are all a ball of nervous energy and he did not want to bring it into the hospital room. 

“Everyone calm down! We can’t go in there and disrupt noona and Peanut!” Seonghwa instructed and that seemed to do the trick.

“I can’t believe Wooyoung is a dad.”  Jongho said, not believing he was going to meet his baby.

They all got off the elevator and sped walked to the room Wooyoung told them they were in. Hongjoon worried they overdid it with all the flowers, balloons and stuffed teddies, but the guys were all excited and he didn’t have the heart to tell them to cut back. They arrived at the door and knocked softly, anxiously awaiting a response.

“Come in.” They heard Wooyoung say on the other side of the door. Hongjoon took a deep breath and opened the door, the members instinctively getting in a single file line to enter the room. 

“Hi!” Wooyoung greeted the members as they walked in quietly, their heads instinctively looking at you laying on your bed, a small bundle wrapped in your arms. 

The members walked over to Wooyoung, handing the gifts to him.

“Guys, meet our little girl, Woojin.” You shared with the group, giggling when they all bursted out in cheers. You and Woouyoung decided to find out the gender of your baby upon birth and it was a surprise to everyone.

 “Can we please hold her?” San asked, his eyes staring at the small baby in awe.

“Yes but you all have to wash your hands.” Wooyoung instructed, watching the members run to the sink in the bathroom that was connected to the hospital room. 

“Guy behave! We are in a hospital!” Hongjoon said, exasperated, not believing his eyes. He was also excited to hold Woojin but he knew how to behave in a hospital. 

The guys quieted down but there was still a low murmur of excitement as they washed their hands one by one, San making sure he was the first one to hold her. Wooyoung took the baby from your arms and carefully placed her in San’s arms, instructing him how to hold her head. The rest of the members scurried over and huddled around San an Woojin, all marveling at the cute little baby in his arms. 

“San, are you crying?” Mingi teased, seeing the tears well up in the man’s eyes. 

Hongjoon smacked his arm in warning, knowing it wasn’t the time to tease. 

“He’s emotional because he was Wooyoung’s first wife.” You tease and they all erupt in laughter, including San.

Wooyoung sits next to you on the bed as he watches the members take turns sitting on the chair and holding your baby girl. She was watching the men with curiosity, not understanding that her life was about to be filled with so much love from all her uncles.

You lay your head on your husband’s shoulder, holding his hand and smiling at the sight in front of you.

“She is going to be very spoiled, isn’t she?” You ask, humor lacing your words.

“Spoiled rotten.” Wooyoung confirmed, placing a short kiss to your smiling lips.

“You did such a great job honey.” Wooyoung praised you. “Thank you for making me a father and giving me a beautiful daughter.” He kisses you one more time, this time a little bit deeper.

“Get off her, she just had a baby.” Yunho teases and you break away from Wooyoung with a laugh.

“I guess Woojin is going to get a sibling much sooner than we thought.” Yeosang jokes, earning a glare from your husband. 

“When can we sleep over?” San asks, you know he is serious about it too.

“If you guys want to be on diaper duty, you can sleep over as soon as we get released.” You said thinking that would be a deterrent for them but to your surprise, they all agreed.

You laughed at their eagerness, your heart filling with warmth at the knowledge that your daughter’s life is going to be full of so much love and care. 

“Mina and I are more than willing to babysit wherever you guys need a date night out.” Seonghwa informed the two of you, which wasn’t a surprise since Mina became a close friend of yours since she started dating Seonghwa.

“We’d love that.” Wooyoung agreed, loving the support from his friends, no, his family.

“I want to babysit too!” Mingi and San complained at the same time, which then resulted in a slight argument on who would be the first to babysit after Seonghwa and Mina.

“This is going to be the rest of our lives.” You sighed happily, in love with your husband and in love with your family. Life was great and it was going to get better.

[xxetherealsweetheartxx]

About waitress reader how she reacts about serious and cold mans but few minutes later or more they can't stop staring her inlove?(I imagined this with the Lin Kuei trio but is your choice from which boy hehe)

Lin Kuei Brothers crushing on waitress reader

Doing all three😈😈 (A bit of nsfw)

You were a waitress for Madame Bo's tea house. Your pay was decent, but there were many pros that came with working there. You get leftovers for lunch and dinner, unlimited tea and... You get to serve the table where those strong guys sit. The moment the three walk in, you strut to their table, happy to be able to serve them... But you do like one in particular...

One of them really got your eyes... The one that always wore blue. His face was a work of art. But you knew he was out of your league. Such a handsome man like him didn't deserve a waitress.

Little did you know that this man has a small crush on his own. He finds enjoyment in watching you always serving them. Even if it was just a drink, you'll drop everything just to be at their table. It's definitely a kink aspect. Just watching you serve him as if he was a god, makes him wants to bend you over and fuck you. But he can't deny how beautiful you are... You'd make a good trophy wife

He watches as you move to their table. He can feel his heart beat a bit faster when you ask for their order. With no shame this man is undressing you with your eyes

One day, he'll find a way to make you his wife.

Kuai Liang feels a bit nervous when he watches you. He doesn't know why. You've been nothing but kind and polite to him. But he must admit, that you look quite good in that outfit. It really makes your curves stand out.

Suddenly he gets back to reality when you ask for his order. Kuai Liang orders the usual and you scribble it down on your little notepad.

You do talk to them for a bit before Madame Bo calls you back to work, but other than that he doesn't talk much with you. Yet you manage to give him these feelings.

You are a great waitress, but sometimes he wonders how it will be like to meet you in a different setting.

By the elder gods, he sometimes wants to just take you away somewhere in the mountains, where you can be his cute wife. Why serve and cook for strangers, when you can do the same for him.

What must he do to win your heart?

Tomas really likes talking with you. You are fun to hang around with. Sadly those meetings can only happen when he's going out to eat. He knows the Lin Kuei rules, but sometimes he just wants to ignore them and spend his day with you.

You make him forget about how hard life is (Your ass makes him forget about his dead parents lol).

He wouldn't mind spending his life with such a person. Not only someone full of life, but also such a beauty. You just might be the prettiest thing he's seen.

He could sit there for hours and admire the way you move around the restaurant.

***

You feel surprised seeing your crush staring at you with so much love and admiration. You must admit, that it made you feel good getting attention from such a beautiful man. Maybe you have a chance with them...

[deminetly]

𓏵 BETTER CR INTRO

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(this is not just a dr, Im manifesting basically this exact life into my cr and just thought to make it into a dr script too)

┆ABOUT THIS DR

Im still deciding on the country in which this dr is set since Im planning on moving away from the country I currently live in but my main options are Spain and Switzerland

set in modern times

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┆ABOUT ME

so Im still the same person and use my own face claim but I am manifesting (and also working on) bettering myself in a few ways so I scripted those changes in (healing my mental health for example)

Im a master shifter and manifestor

my vibe -

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┆S/O

dates we go on here

I imagine him having either a buzz cut or really long hair and wearing baggy, black clothes, tall and attractive (obvi). dark eyes, dark hair, a really small cutie mustache

I have a really long list of all of my expectations which I fear I wont be listing here but just imagine him being super obsessed with me (in a healthy way of course) and giving me princess treatment (duh)

random facts - he plays guitar and skates (scripted that in just so he could teach them to me lol), he has a car (just to drive me around 😛), maybe works as a car mechanic

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┆MY LIFE

nothing too special, I go to school (Im manifesting getting into a good art school in which I could study film/set design.) I have a little friend group and travel around a lot with either my mom or friends

Im thinking of starting a youtube channel in my cr so I might script that Im a bit of an influencer kind of? I post ideas, vlogs, shifting content, art content and maybe even advice of some sort

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┆HOME

when I first shift there I will still be living with my mom (and cat) in an apartment but later on I will be moving out into my own house

current home (when I first shift there) - an aparment in a somewhat busy street, big rooms and windows, I imagine our apartment having 2 stories, my room and bathroom being in the second one and the living room, kitchen, second bathroom and my moms room being in the first. I have my own bathroom with a big bath AND shower. we have a big pool outside. theres a farmers market nearby that I go to buy strawberries from every day. my room might also have a little balcony

future home - my own house in a mountain town where everyone knows everyone and we have dinner parties together where anyone that lives there is invited to every week. the house has a big garden full of life as well as a river that no one really knows of close by so i can swim alone, peacefully every day. has a cozy, whimsical, peaceful vibe to it. big windows, big rooms. also imagining 2 stories for this house. I want some sort of cool addition room like a sun room or art room with a reading nook. also loads of plants everywhere around the house

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┆SCHOOL

I go to a pretty small, old, art school (for some reason I imagine the walls as light pink and a bit cracked in case you were wondering..)

I take the normal classes (expect for physics, chemesty and geography beacuse why would I want that) + media, film and possibly creative writing

I have a best friend in my class

all the teachers are chill and nice, the school days arent too long, we dont get too much homework, the tests are easy and I enjoy the whole school experience

the vibe of the school -

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┆WARDROBE

im obviously also keeping my other clothes that I currently own (that are a whole other vibe) but I really want some cool dresses like this so thats what I added here

btw if youre interested in my current wardrobe heres a pinterest board (check the ‘mines’ section) and heres my instagram

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┆EXTRA PLACES

the river that I swim in like every day

the roof that me and my friend hang out in

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┆ACTIVITIES

writing books

making stop motion films

making short films

swimming in rivers fully clothed

putting out a hammock and reading a book

going for forest runs in dresses

seeking out fairies

leaving out gifts for fairies

singing in forests

lying on the groud while Its raining

going for runs in the rain

connecting with animals

having a secret hangout just for myself

meditating in nature

feeding ducks

going on random side quests

exploring new places

hanging with my friends

fun dates with my s/o

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┆MY ART

these are all from pinterest and Im just using them to show what kind of art I want to create

I also make short films and write books (lmk if you want to hear more about those too because this post is already too long to put it all here)

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┆TIMELINE

this is pretty messy since I am manifesting this kind of life and obviously dont know exactly when something is going to happen but Im going to move out of this country, get into a good school, meet friends and my mans���️, all this while still living with my mom in an apartment but when I finish school I plan on moving out to my own house and being a set designer for theatres and films and maybe sort of an influencer even though I truly hate that word