#not tagging lol leaving this post to fate

[lokiusly]

what do we think Mobius smells like

[wesstars]

heaven on earth (ii)

wednesday addams x fem!reader (mostly gn, only term used is “girl friend”)

summary: your friends-with-benefits situation with wednesday isn’t so friendly anymore, but if you could only uncover your own eyes, you might’ve noticed. wc: 5.5k tags: explicit, MINORS DNI! all characters involved are 18+. kinda ooc wednesday, painfully oblivious reader, bad fluff, fluff to smut, top!reader and bottom!wednesday, semi-public (car) sex, mild blood, biting, mild overstimulation. a/n: not sure how I feel about this lol. special thank you to 🕷️ anon for her ideas and workshopping <3 comments/asks welcome, as always!

read part one here! this can be read standalone, but is intended to be a continuation.

masterlist

For the fifth time, Wednesday slapped your thigh to get your attention. “Turn it down.”

You huffed a laugh, and figured it was time. You were playing your ‘obnoxious’ pop playlist, full of mostly Taylor Swift and random Korean bands. It was collaborative with Enid, and likely one of Wednesday’s least favorites. Lowering the volume, you tossed Wednesday your phone.

“Alright, it’s your turn.”

The two of you were driving back from a day trip to a nearby town—actually, you were supposed to be driving back the rest of Enid and Co, also, but while Wednesday was beyond ready to leave, they all wanted to stay and do something called a “holy trinity.” How someone could have so much alcohol in so little time was so bizarre to you, but then Wednesday, of all people, rolled her eyes and downed three shots in just as many minutes, and seemed no worse for wear. 

Seemed was the key word there—not a quarter of an hour later, she’d grabbed onto your arm, grip slack, and her eyes were becoming unfocused, roving all over your face only to miss your eyes and tack onto somewhere lower.

You’d coaxed her to eat something after that. Post French fries and buttered bread (she’d kill you after she knew you’d made her eat such unrefined food,) as well as a bottle and a half of water in, she’d mostly walked it off. You figured it was time to get Wednesday home. As far as you knew, the rest of your friends were still out, though you’d made Yoko promise to text you when they were leaving and when they got back. The windows were open in the car; the wind lifted Wednesday’s fringe off her forehead. You glanced over to where she was gingerly operating your phone, punching in letters on Spotify. Your heart twisted.

You didn’t really want to admit that weird feeling you had the first time, and all the rest of the times, you saw Wednesday. It was a sort of jittery one, with a swoop in your stomach, that made you want to prod her into a conversation. You’d gotten quite a bit more than you’d bargained for, from that first fateful kiss in the classroom, to every secret, heady rendezvous after. The last time you two had been intimate—fucked, in your bed—had left an indelible mark, natural as a shadow settled neatly in your chest. The bickering and play fights had only made things worse, and you knew you had to ignore it all, for Wednesday. To keep things the same, because… something’s better than nothing, right?

You supposed that “something” was where you were right now. Being her ‘girl friend,’ with a space in between, sex and unrequited feelings included, was the best place that you could ever be with her. You had those close moments with her that you could cherish, but also that emotional distance that Wednesday undoubtedly wanted. Perfect. Your childlike sentiments were ones that you were likely to carry in your heart, deep down, for fucking forever. They were never going to see the light of day.

Lilting piano filled the car, shoving images of you and Wednesday seated together before the keys into your mind. Your phone dropped back into your lap.

“Nocturne? In E minor.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself.

“I’m surprised you know.”

“Hey!” Indignant, you nearly shot something back that was sure to start one of your bickering matches again, when an unfamiliar sound rang through the car, lovely as the music, but something you’d never heard before.

“Did you just laugh?”

Wednesday’s mumbled denial was covered up by your own laugh, bordering on hysterical as your heart picked itself up and started racing. 

“Do not insult me like that,” Wednesday grumbled, rubbing the hem of her sweater between her fingers. “Focus on the road. Dying with you in a car crash is too pathetic to even consider.” Though her words were sharp as always, her even tone had something in it that, if one wasn’t careful, could be mistaken as gentle.

You snorted again, unable to stop laughing. “And if a double decker bus…” you sang, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Wednesday’s glare nearly sliced you clean in half, and you were smart for once, shutting up immediately. She wasn’t laughing anymore, and some part of you mourned that.

After Chopin played Liszt, Liebestraum no. 3, and you wondered if Wednesday knew how to queue on Spotify. You followed the winding road up the mountain. You’d be back at Nevermore soon, but selfishly, you didn’t want this to be over. It was an odd time, with no bickering, no siege, no sex, and who could blame you if you were feeling particularly, disgustingly, sentimental? Blame the Liszt.

Turning the car off the road, you pulled into a deserted vista point. Carpe diem, you thought, throwing caution to the wind and the car in park. 

“Why have you stopped?”

“Weds, we’re looking at the sunset.”

“I do not need to see it, it happens every day—”

“Oh, come on,” you laughed, unlocking the car doors and stepping out. With the wind whipping around you, blowing your hair every which way, you ducked to peek into the car. “Humor me, I guess. Don’t you feel sorry for me, or something?”

She gave you a pointed look. “I do not.” But she followed you out the car anyway.

Leaning on the hood, you looked out at the scene as she joined you. Spiky evergreens stretched out across the stony slopes, with the last vestiges of snow clinging to the tops. The sun stretched its longing light into the rapidly darkening east behind you, pulling taut the shadows and blanketing everything in an aureate shine.

You glanced over at Wednesday—despite her earlier protest, it seemed as if she was tolerating this. The tension around her brow was gone, and her arms hung relaxed by her sides. The silence wasn’t rare, but it felt reverent anyway. Your heart adored her in her outfit; it was something your mind refused to register. She was in black knee high boots, made of some leather you couldn’t pronounce, an inky dress, flowing in the wind, down to her thighs, and a soft deep gray sweater. There was a sort of bleeding sentiment, beginning to seep into your everyday life, into wondering what Wednesday would think of the book you were reading, imagining her reaction to Bianca’s quip, overthinking her hand clutching your sleeve in the courtyard.

You deliberated, vaguely, what it would be like if you tumbled down the mountainside, into those trees—would the wood be cushioning or bruising? It was a serious consideration, with all that you were feeling. Those damned feelings, ones that Wednesday would undoubtedly scorn, made you kick up the gravel underfoot in frustration.

Beside you, Wednesday cast an uninterested look over you at the noise, silently judging. A beat passed. She grabbed the collar of your shirt, wrinkling it, and pulled you into a bruising kiss. 

“I am going in the car. The back seat. Be not afraid.” She retreated, and gave a little smirk, one reserved for the golden light and dark trees.

It was purely unfair, as the blood rushed from your head to pool in your stomach, making your heart work overtime. Stumbling to the back seat, you’d barely sat down before Wednesday reached over to the console and locked the doors. She’d taken off her boots, leaving her legs clad in white socks scrunched around her calves.

She climbed into your lap without preamble, squeezing your hips with her thighs. The car roof meant she had to duck her head just a bit, giving you the perfect opportunity to press your lips to hers. Having Wednesday on top of you was the kind of thing that made your head spin. And spinning you were, down into that deep unending abyss where there was only the smell of hot sugar, pine, and iron. 

The Midas touch of the setting sun made Wednesday seem even paler, from her exposed knees to her small hands, glowing like some ethereal being. She kissed you as if she could wrap her teeth around you, like searching for sweetness in the corners of your mouth. Sure enough, there was something about her, a sense of urgency, that threatened to take in all of you. 

“This dress is nice,” you murmured, pushing it up her pale thighs, rubbing away the red marks her boots left on her calves. Your hands continued upward, to the light dampness of her inner thighs.

“You said you liked it last time.” Wednesday immediately glanced away, as if she hadn’t meant to say those words. There was a faint flush to her cheeks again, but the two of you were fogging up the car windows.

You ignored the pulsing in your stomach that traitorously screamed she wore this for me? “It’s enchanting,” you said. “Like a witch of the wood.”

You nosed your way into the nape of her neck again, a favorite spot of yours, unable to stop your stupid mouth from running. “I adore it…” You pulled her tighter to your lap, skimming the seam of her underwear at the juncture of her thigh. “Can I touch you, Wednesday?”

“Get on with it,” she said, breathlessly, indulging you with a quick quirk of her lips. 

Skimming the back of your hand up between her thighs, you sent your other hand to palm her chest through her dress. You felt her through her panties, the fabric soft and smooth from her slick. Dipping your hand below the waistband, you wasted no time finding her clit. Her breath came down hard—it was her tell, you knew, even when her face remained mostly impassive.

She was sensitive today, back arching with a small gasp as soon as you touched her. Hand shooting past your head, Wednesday grabbed onto the headrest, hard enough for the leather to creak. Her outstretched arm was right next to your head, and you couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss the inside of her elbow. 

She sighed, unfurling tendrils of a storm in smooth skies. “You have all of me,” Wednesday said, something soft.

You press a kiss to Wednesday's forehead, equally soft, as you curl your fingers again. “If only, Wednesday,” you said, unthinking.

Wednesday froze, squeezing her other hand on your shoulder hard enough to leave pretty bruises under your collared shirt.

You pulled back, cocking your head. “What is it?”

She furrowed her brow at you, as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing, then glanced away quickly.

“What’s wrong?” Your fingers traced another circle around her clit.

“Stop asking.” Her voice was firm, but it had a waver in the middle, like she’d almost changed her mind. 

“I’ll stop asking,” you whispered, “if you tell me what’s up.” Her eyes were glazed over with a sheen not unlike her slick that coated your fingers, something shiny and sweet. 

“You’re hopeless,” she said, not even a second before she clapped her hand over your mouth.

What an Addams wants, an Addams gets, you surmised, blinking quickly. You rubbed your free hand up and down her thigh, trying to soothe her, but she only moved her hand to grip your jaw, her intent the sear of fire through the underbrush.

“I do not like repeating myself,” she said quietly, “so listen closely.” She shifted closer to you on your lap, car leather squeaking, settling on her knees so your nose was in her collar. She reached down and gave you a handkerchief from her pocket. Knowing what she meant, you pulled your fingers from her warmth, feeling a hard lump in your throat. “And make no noise.”

You nodded. She looked wild on top of you, hair mussed from your make out session, the apples of her cheeks a dusty rose.

“Honesty colors me,” she said by way of explanation. “And you talk too much, so this is how it will have to be.” She seemed to think for a moment, biting her lip. Her burgundy lipstick contrasted so starkly with her gray sweater, as if she was the only screaming color in a black and white world. She might hate that, you mused absently. Maybe she was more a whirlpool of the blackest black, sucking in all of the color and light around it so that you had no choice but to be drawn in, to the only real thing you’d ever known.

“You’re stupid,” Wednesday started, matter-of-factly. “Just like everyone else.” You nodded, used to this sort of thing by now. “But your particular brand of stupidity is showing its truth.”

You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, arms automatically going around her waist while you leaned back to look at her. Where she was going with this, you had no idea. You only knew that that whirlpool was making its way closer and closer to you.

“At first, our… arrangement was indeed purely physical.” She paused. “But things have changed, quite drastically. I do believe I’ve reached a… point of no return, but I have since found a balance.”

Wednesday locked her eyes on yours, unflinching. “I give myself to you time and time again-” the words were unfamiliar from her mouth- “yet, you seem to give no indication that you know. ‘If only?’ It’s nearly laughable.” She gave a huff, though her gaze was contemplative. You cocked your head, mind uncomprehending, mouth dry.

“You have my heart, beating or still.” Her words rang quiet in the car. Your own heart started up again, with all the betrayal of a thrumming bass. You tried to push it down, but it didn’t erase the reality of what Wednesday had just said—did Wednesday ever lie? She was good at it, sure, but you’d long learned that Wednesday’s word was her end. “And it appears as though you are completely unaware.”

“Unaware?” You broke her rule, and you could see the tick of annoyance in her eyes. But you plowed on anyway. “Are you saying that you have my—that I don’t know that I have your—that you like me?”

“My devotion is more than that,” Wednesday said casually, “but it may be that you’re unable to handle that at this time.”

Sure enough, you could feel your body informing your mind that you were hyperventilating, Wednesday’s weight on your lap the only thing keeping you from shooting off to Saturn.

“I don’t—” you struggled for your words, the usual wit you showed while bickering with Wednesday, the strategy you’d used to defend Jericho, absolutely nowhere to be seen.

“Need I pull stars from the sky to prove myself to you?” she said, raising an eyebrow in amusement, as if she wasn’t blowing through every poorly stacked defense of yours. It would be just like Wednesday, for every word of hers to be devastating and world shifting. No one knew Wednesday Addams and remained unchanged—that was just the kind of person she was, romantic as murder via blade. Perhaps to her, your wide eyed reaction was enough of a damning confession. “You’ll be the end of me, but what bliss that would be.” 

“Um,” you started, eloquently. “You’re… you’re not thinking straight,” you rasped out, mind freezing. You could feel your back stuck to the seat, unyielding. “You’re—”

“If I didn’t know you and your oblivious tendencies, I would think that it is almost insulting of you to doubt me.” She gave a small sniff, chin held high. “You think that just because you do not recognize my words, means that I am not in a right state of mind?”

In one fluid motion, she pressed her forehead to yours, and cradled your face between her two cold hands. Your name felt like salvation from her lips; “believe me, I’m wide awake.”

Your jaw went slack, and you were sure you looked as much a dumbass as you felt.

“I intended for my… vulnerability,” Wednesday’s voice wavers on the word, “to be a sign for you, but either you are just that unobservant, or you are unwilling to admit to what is right before your eyes.”

“I’d never not pick up on something on purpose, Weds.” Your brain was wading through a thick mud, unable to turn at the speed that Wednesday wanted.

“Does that mean that you are willfully disregarding the way I show myself to you?” Finally, in her words, you were able to see the exact vulnerability that she had alluded to.

“No, I’d never, I just… didn’t want to hope,” you said, embarrassed. “Romance isn’t your thing.”

“It’s not,” she replied simply, quietly. “I understand your reservations.” Wednesday’s hands held an imperceptible tremble, but her gaze was strong.

“No—of course I—” your throat tightened, but you felt the weight falling from your shoulders anyway. That was something you recognized. “Of course I like you.”

The silence rang yet again, and Wednesday’s eyes widened, the onyx of them turning warm as molten metal. The exact expression in them was hard to place, but it calmed you, in the wake of speaking aloud something you’d been afraid to admit to yourself.

A thought occurred to you, more clear than any you’d had since Wednesday had opened her mouth. “Even if we’d never—if we never have sex again, I’d still l—like you.”

Despite the way you stumbled into and over your words, Wednesday’s dark eyes on yours grew warm, pupil blurring into iris; the corner of her mouth gave an upwards tick.

“In the cracks of light,” Wednesday whispered, reverent as prayer as her fingertips traced your cheekbone, “I see the heaven on earth I’ve won with you.”

She kissed you then, and you couldn’t hold back any more. It was something like pure relief—though your mind still didn’t quite comprehend Wednesday’s confession (confession!), your heart broke the dam, pulling you down past inhibition. Spiraling to Wednesday’s gravity, it was as natural as breathing to give in.

Wednesday, all knowing as always, must’ve seen the way your resolve broke. She slid her mouth against yours, open and hot, unhurried but eager. The car leather under your thighs was as warm as Wednesday on top of you—not even she was immune to the rays of waning sunlight, it seemed.

“You know,” you muttered, between capturing her lips, “it’s just like you to say all that about moving heaven and earth. Most people just say ‘I like you.’” It wasn’t a complaint by any means; with your hands on her waist, you’d have it no other way.

“As I said, it is more than that.” She took a breath, completely steady and confident, now. “You consume me, completely.”

“And you, I,” you said softly, as if you could do anything but agree to her heady desire. “I’ve got you, Wednesday.”

Her forehead dropped to your shoulder, arms wrapped tight around you. It took a moment for you to realize that in her silence after your words, she was grinding down, near imperceptibly, into your lap.

“Mmm, my love,” you murmured, the significance of the endearment not lost on you, “look at you.” Sliding a hand up her back to her hair, you felt her braids through your fingers. You ran your hands down once more, under her sweater to feel the muscles around her shoulder blades. The heat you felt through her dress from where she was pressed to you, through your trousers, was something out of a darkest dream, unable to be forgotten.

Wednesday leaned up again, eyes sharp as a lance, to brand you with a kiss. She bit your lip, breaking through skin, and you grinned at the pain. It was hard and harsh, comforting like the thin edge of a knife. You felt the blood seeping into the seams of your teeth, rain in scorched earth. Intoxicated, you seemed to float closer into that sweet and dark whirlpool.

“That hurt, Wednesday…” you leaned in, voice dropping. “I wanna…” There was a beat of silence where you could only taste the copper in your mouth, sweet as you knew the slick between her thighs to be. You shifted your grip to her hips, bruising, and the soft little moan Wednesday gave in response spurred you on. “I wanna hurt you.”

You did, helplessly. Of course, you would rain hell on anyone that so much as lifted a finger against Wednesday, but to hold her trust that came with pain—you wanted that from her, to know when she hurt, when she wanted to hurt. Whether it was holding her back from the edge, or flying and dropping together to the bottom, bodies crashing against one another, you wanted it. Like something out of a classical myth, with wings of wax or blood, you would burn and be burned to feel the weightless warmth of that golden light.

There was no hesitation for Wednesday, just a look in her eyes that you’d come to know intimately as hunger. “Hurt me.” Her voice was low, nearly fond, in your ear as her eyes tracked the blood collecting on your lips. She leaned towards you and licked, tongue to your teeth, translucent saliva mixing with the burgundy. “I want it to hurt—I want you to hurt me.”

When she leaned back, her lipstick was stained with your blood, and it made you want to bleed if only she was the one taking it. You leaned your temple to her jawline, eyes burning at the sun through the windshield. Your hands continued once again up her thighs, just as reverent as before. The two of you never could do anything by half—you were always Wednesday’s. Realizing it, speaking it aloud, confessing or not, couldn’t have changed that. Despite that, as you rocked back and kissed the blood off Wednesday, you felt as though you were on your knees, professing everything you were. Giving one last cheeky swipe of your tongue on her lips, you went to tug Wednesday’s panties down. She followed your lead easily, tossing the expensive garment somewhere to the side. 

“My sweet girl,” you sighed, something possessive curling in your words. “What would you like?”

“Everything.” There was a devout way about her utterance that had your hands shaking with the desire to fulfill her. “Touch me.”

Crossing one arm around her to clasp the back of her neck, you brought her face close to yours, the tips of your noses brushing.

“Everything? How much can we do with ‘everything’ when you’re so sensitive, angel?” On cue, Wednesday’s eyes slipped shut as you drew a finger along her pussy to find her wet and wanting.

“Don’t you think you should be the one to answer that?” Her voice, bold and challenging, shook up your stomach like champagne. You were completely, utterly ruined before Wednesday Addams, and it was a nearly celestial ruin, so bright and beloved it nearly hurt.

You didn’t hesitate, slipping your finger in and grinding your palm on her clit. You didn’t miss her knees sliding further apart, that elusive grin gracing her face as she tipped her head back. Only her tight hold on your shoulders kept her from falling into your lap. Your mouth tasted of iron, such a contrast to Wednesday’s burnt sugar sweat on your tongue as you licked a stripe up her jaw to bite her earlobe. Drawing every small sigh out, you took your time, curling your fingers the way you knew she liked. You squeezed your hand, heavy where her shoulders met her neck. The jagged breaths she took in response made you crave more, and your stomach burned with contentment when she let you press another finger inside of her.

Wednesday’s half lidded eyes tracked down your neck, hunter to the scent of fear, leaving a shiver in her wake. It was inexplicably easy to discern what she wanted, even as she threaded her hands in your hair, something tingling and distracting.

“Go ahead, I know you want to.” Like blood rushing back into white fingertips, her soft lips were on your neck, undoubtedly leaving a smear of lip stain that you’d have to be chastised to wipe off. Almost as if she’d read your mind, she was sucking at your skin, impatient. Already you could feel the raised welt, and the way her tongue soothed the strain.

“You’re mine,” she breathed out, harsh despite the way she was panting with every twist of your fingers.

“Yeah,” you whispered, the haze of being Wednesday’s blurring your every action. “I’m yours.”

You curled your fingers, and had to bite down a moan as her teeth sank deeper into your neck, a cause and effect that you’d kill for. You swore as she set sight on your jawline, the sweet shock of her hot tongue making you shiver. 

“Took you long enough,” she muttered darkly—it seemed she was satisfied with the state of your neck, since you could feel the skin throbbing pleasantly. She leaned back, proffering her own throat.

“I was always yours,” you said easily. “I can just…” you trailed off as your sharp teeth met her skin in the spot you knew she liked, making her cry out, “show you better now.”

Wednesday’s hands tightened in your hair, pulling a broken gasp from your throat. Her smirk, challenging as she took in your reaction, only spurred you on. It was pure selfishness, when you grinned lazily as she tugged. You gave as good as you got, though, each curl of your fingers and shift of your hand had her trembling.

She was close; you could feel it in the uneven cadence of her breath, almost as erratic as yours. Pulling the collar of her sweater aside, you worked your tongue against her jugular, her pulse tempting and honey sweet in your mouth. It was nearly tangible between your teeth, soft and solid, the pounding of her pulse, just milliseconds away from your own.

“C’mon, Wednesday,” you whispered in her ear, “just like that.”

Her breath stuttered, climbing up higher to the returning lump in your throat. It was always a marvel, the way that Wednesday was so incredibly responsive to you, your touch or your words. The hard catch of her lip between her teeth made you grin, and you reached out, tugging it free. You leaned in to kiss her forehead as you slipped your thumb in her mouth instead, your fingers never stopping. 

“Wednesday.” She turned her glossy eyes towards you, and it was the closest you’d ever seen her to coming without really falling. “Let go.”

At your words, she gasped, and you could feel her cunt pulse around your fingers as she came. Her teeth bit into your skin and her eyebrows knitted together ever so gently—you loved to watch her come undone. She was all soft moans and flushed cheeks, open in a way that she hardly ever was otherwise. It unfurled something bright and warm in your chest, spreading out into your fingertips. You felt as hazy as she looked, the smell of her spilling into the air and undoubtedly lingering in your chest.

“That’s perfect, love, you’re so good for me.” You shushed her as she panted, eyes unfocused beneath her mussed fringe, but searing into yours. You continued your palm on her clit, holding her tight as her body stuttered. You moved your hand to cup her face, smoothing over unshed tears along her waterline.

“You’re…” Wednesday gave a low groan as you hit that sensitive spot inside of her again, none too gently.

“Yes,” you answered gently. “You’ll tell me if you want me to stop, won’t you?” She nodded, eager, as she pushed her hips into your hand, even though it made her whole body shiver. 

“Fuck—”

You hummed in response, feeling her cunt open even easier now that she was impossibly wetter. As you worked a third finger into her, Wednesday’s spine went rigid, a whining, desperate sound you’d never thought you’d hear breaking from her throat. She grabbed your hand, and her palms were damp. Her grip on your wrist was tight, just as much keeping you from progressing as it was keeping you from pulling away. You leaned in by her ear. “Does it hurt?”

She gave a jerky nod, jaw clenched and lips parted. You would turn a storm on its head for those ways that Wednesday strayed from her control, especially when you were the one guiding that meandering path. Pressing the heel of your hand into her clit, you laughed, small and indulgent, as she clung tighter to you, a strained little cry escaping. 

“Good girl, Wednesday… you’re taking it so well, aren’t you? You’re taking me so well, darling…” Fisting the front of her sweater in your hand, you pulled her off balance, tugging her close so her lips fell to yours, easy as breathing. Swallowing every single prized whimper that fell from her, you kissed her slow. Wednesday was already sensitive, but this was intense for even her, you could tell. Her breath came shakily against you as you pulled away, having smeared her lipstick to your content. Fingers sliding punishingly against her clit, your laugh rumbled low in your chest as she keened, soft and just a bit pleading.

“Very good, Wednesday, my love,” you coaxed. Her gasp, more like a sob, washed over you in a satisfaction that made you shudder. The slick from her previous orgasm clung to your hand, making it easy to keep up your punishing pace. Her tears shined like sea glass in her lashes, as devout to the cause of ruining her cheeks as the dusk outside was to darkness. You had no idea how much time had passed, only that if she asked, you’d stay right here with her until daylight again.

“I’m—” A whine rose from her throat, and you couldn’t help but smile.

“You can do it, baby-” your thumb circled her clit as your fingers found their way impossibly deeper into Wednesday- “just for me, okay?”

“Okay,” she repeated, mindlessly. This world where Wednesday let herself trust you to take care of her was one you could live in, drown in, make your home in. You raised your hand to the juncture of her neck and jaw, heavy and comforting. Reminded of every time Wednesday had put her hand in that same place on you when you were on your knees in front of her, more intimate than anything, you tugged on her wrist, instantly missing her hold in your hair. Intertwining your fingers together, you held your hands together in between you and Wednesday. 

Without a warning, her fingers tightened around yours, so hard that her knuckles turned white. You could see that how hard she came took her by surprise, too—eyes wide open and pupils blown. It was breathtaking, you thought, just how much tension was in her, all tense shoulders and choked cry. Her nails dug into your skin, her grip tethering you from dropping off with her. It stung, and you loved it, the maroon of your blood welling up just enough to smear her fingertips. 

Wednesday’s head fell into the nape of your neck, nuzzling like she could find the world’s secrets in your skin. Hand still in hers, you wiped away the smeared burgundy around the corners of her mouth with your thumb pad, fingers lingering.

“That was devious,” she murmured, words blurring around each other.

“I’ll take that as a compliment,” you chuckled. She nodded, somewhat resolutely. You eased your fingers out, tucking them surreptitiously into your mouth. The gesture didn't go unnoticed by Wednesday, but she only narrowed her eyes.

Even in her post-orgasm daze, Wednesday looked dangerous. Her fringe was all over the place, getting caught in her eyelashes, and you could finally attribute the pink in her cheeks to something a little more than the fogged up windows. Surely, this was heaven on earth, having Wednesday with you, steady as planetal orbit. You shifted her to sit sideways in your lap, making sure her knees didn’t burn from the leather. She was watching you, carefully. It was almost as if she was trying to memorize you, the studious way she looked at you, like she was the sole messenger for a world that wasn’t allowed to take you in. It made your heart pound, finally in accordance with your head. You let her take her time in your arms, rubbing her shoulders. The little press of her lips was back, something you had adored for something dangerously similar to ‘forever.’ She seemed content in a way she hardly ever was, the haze in her eyes clearing as she studied you. 

“You’ve changed a lot since I met you,” she commented, not unkindly.

You looked down into Wednesday’s face, at the night air drifting through her hair again. You could feel the sting from the little crescent shaped marks that her nails left. It was a warm contrast to her cold hand in yours, clasped between you. “You changed me, Wednesday.”

--

wednesday: you have bewitched me, mind, body, and soul… i love, i love, i love you. 

reader: huh?

a/n cont’d for those brave souls that made it this far: yes, wednesday’s dress has pockets. isn’t that wonderful?

I’m SO BAD at writing fluff. plus, reader is the most unreliable narrator to unreliably narrate. should’ve put “painfully oblivious” as a warning for part one too.

please do not repost, reproduce, copy, translate, or take from my work in any way. thank you!

masterlist

[monst]

LOVEE your tim fics🩷🩷 i keep coming back to read them again 🥹 if its okay can i ask if youre planning anything else for him?

Aww Thank you! That really means a lot!  And it’s more than okay to ask! Eeeekkk I’m like obsessed with Tim so there’s so much I have planned for him. I try to hold myself back cause I don’t wanna be stingy and hog the tags >.<

Ahhh okay okay I’m just really excited! Right, so imma separate this into two categories Sfw & nsfw(Under cut)

WC- 800 

Sfw: 

Tim drake General hc’s: We’re sitting at 2.3k words for this so I’m tryna cut this down. 

A couple of cute date fics: Sort of like “Go for a drive” and “Watching the sunset” Ex: Watching movies in the car (Drive up movie theater), Skateboarding, and slushies (Some graffiti)  Gala shit, Maybe some sports stuff cause he’s low-key sporty (Multifacited this one, probably why I like him so much lol) Magic shenanigans while play their version of D&D (Kinda like that one Gravity falls episode, gotta bring in my witch boy Klarion) Mostly fluff

Another edition of ‘High Ramblings about Tim Drake’: I mean I typed it out and I figured I might as well post it- just general ideas on what DC can do with his character. Hypothetical story arcs, his position in Gotham, his age and alias, etc. 

Father, there's something wrong with Timothy: Aftermath of Joker Junior, Mostly from Damian’s pov. This one is more of an Elseworlds au since I didn’t want it to be the Batman Beyond version. Anon requested the batfam’s reaction to his relapse so it’s canon adjacent? (Not an x reader) Thriller/Horror. 

Executive Tim: Anon req. Yandere Tim Drake. He’s already got a killer migraine and Tam’s replacement already screwed up. Screwed up may be a bit harsh but with the week he’s had he wasn’t feeling quite charitable. The mix-up with one of their outside distributors has Tim calling different vendors. Multiple calls later and he swears if he gets transferred to a different department one more goddamn time he’s going to- “Hello you’ve reached (Your name) how can I help you?” - Employee poaching lol, Unhealthy power dynamics, Gratuitous abuse of power.

Around the world: Series in no particular order. I hc that he’s learned to make the most of his time with his partner. (Past relationships failing due to not spending any time together) So even if you're not a vigilante he takes you with him on missions if you're also free and down. Needs to do a stakeout? Going undercover? Trailing a suspect? Or just general boots to the ground investigating? He’s asking if you’d like to tag along. However, anything that involves him in the mask or anything that involves physical combat is off the table. You walk into his apartment and see Tim's bitchy face and he just asks you “You wanna go to Switzerland?”

Old friend: Some call it being at the wrong place at the wrong time others prefer to call it fate. Honestly, he never pondered fatalism. But the joker was dead and there were no leads. Whoever had done it didn't leave anything behind nor did they announce it. It had to be fate. After all, this was the kind of death the psychotic clown would have despised. It’s been two weeks and the blame game had already been played. Solid alibis. He was told not to investigate. So he was in some dingy laundromat with Ives; catching up with old friends to curb his need to investigate. But he recognized the employee refilling the quarters “(Name?)” - Mystery, suggestive themes, smoking, gang affiliations, Hypocrite Tim Drake

Not your typical office romance: Multi-chapter, your company sends you as part of a team to initiate building reforms in Gotham. As a result, your introduced to your new colleague for this project Tim Drake from Wayne’s R&D department. You're eager to get to work, but your flakey coworker is halting progress. Your polite facade comes crumbling down due to massive misunderstandings. Lots of antagonism, Bitchy Reader

Nsfw:

Escalation 2: This one is mostly done just need to edit. You found a way to play off not seeing the snap but my boy is shameless. And you may have started something you'll lose at.

Deal with the devil: Dark! Tim drake (Borderline Yandere) Hmm. This one is fucked; He should have left you to your fate. You knew better than to go investigate that cave alone but that’s just who you were, reckless, fickle, unburdened, hardheaded. He didn’t know whether he hated you or if he was just deeply envious. But even so, he couldn’t just leave you alone, not when you actually used the emergency beacon he gave you. Not when you actually kept it. He should have expected that it was Ra’s Al Ghul’s doing, he should have ignored his words, he should have but a snake seduced Eve in the Garden of Eden, and wasn’t Ra’s a devil? 

Five minutes: Oral fixation reader, Tim’s playing Apex (Octane or Horizon main) with some old friends but you really need him in your mouth. Subspace. Why Apex? Because everything I know about it has been involuntary. 

Vacation: Sort of a spin-off of Across the World. This series involves trips around the states and the world. He’s a vigilante but he’s also a very public figure that still needs to attend certain social events. Ex: Ski trips(This one* mhm), Weekend Conferences, or just a vacation. (Cases might align with an event)

Indecent: You come up to his office while he’s busy. But you came up looking too distracting how on earth is he supposed to concentrate? Spoiler he doesn’t. 

Boudoir pics: Cute flirty pictures of each other that's what this was supposed to be.

Impatient: The fact that your boyfriend could so easily hold you down was very hot. But you're so over it, if he didn't stop teasing you were going to die! Tim x M. Reader

Lastly: he has like two days in the upcoming kinktober event.  Maybe an add to possibility ft Poison Ivy

  A/N: My undiagnosed ADHD won’t let me write things in order so that’s the reason why most of my stuff takes a while and/or sits in my drafts for ages (Ex: I have Bruce Hc’s that have been done for weeks…) Also, thanks for the ask! I had all of these all over the place this def helped me organize it all. 

[whalyrae]

THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 4

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 5k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku

A/N : After months of struggling with life, health, mental health issues... I can FINALLY POST AGAIN !! This chapter was really hard to write (I cried a little at the end ngl :D), I have constant writer block, constant impostor syndrome... I have the perfectionnism trait but in a toxic way really TT.TT Don't hesitate to like and reblog !! Also don't be afraid to leave a little comment or if you have any questions, here or in anon in my inbox !! they are really really welcomed, I love reading all your impressions and thoughts !!

Also thank you so much !! I was inactive for a very long time and I still got daily alerts with people who liked/kudos the chapters and the story :(( I can't express (yeah i'm an author and i can't express through words LOL) how much i'm grateful :(( ♥♥

ps : ah and sorry if there is any mistakes or anything it's almost 2:30am when I post this and I had an really emotionnal day fgkfdhlfk LOVE YALL MUAH ♥

Playlist link : The Old Guard Playlist

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

She was wondering whether it would be better to ask Handong to stay with her. She had assured her that she would handle the situation and that Handong could go home. She knew that Gahyeon would need her at their coffee shop. 

However, now that she was in the living room of the seven boys, her soulmates’, after bringing one of them in an utterly unconscious state for a reason as unknown to them as it was to her, she was starting to regret this decision.

She couldn't understand what had happened with Jin the moment their eyes met. She couldn't say anything, the words were stuck in her throat as they stared at each other without a word. He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but just like her, nothing came out. 

He'd known she was his soul mate, of course he could feel it. Just like her. But had he recognized her? Did he know that the two of them were the firsts of their soulmate bond to meet, long before any of the other six were born? She couldn't be sure and didn't have time to find out. 

She had seen his features contort in pain, and without a word, he had collapsed. Luckily, Handong, who had seen them, was able to catch him in time, preventing him from falling to the ground and potentially injuring himself. 

Thanks to a spell that increased her strength tenfold, she could carry him without Handong’s help and any difficulty to the place where he lived with his mates. But she couldn't stop herself from hurrying, worried sick about him.

And that's where she is now. Jungkook helped her carry Jin to the living room, laying him on the sofa. While Yoongi woke up Taehyung and Namjoon. Jimin and Hoseok hurried to get a damp cloth on Jin's forehead. 

Namjoon and Taehyung stormed into the room, not hiding their surprise at seeing her there in total panic. 

However, they didn't ask any questions. Yoongi probably had to explain to them what happened and what was going on. 

She was standing in front of the sofa where Jin was lying, staring at the unconscious demon, his features distorted by pain. The sight of him was enough to make her stomach twist with soreness. 

"Hey, Noona..." Jimin's soft voice startled her. He was standing next to her, a comforting smile on his lips, "Everything’s going to be fine, don't worry..."

She didn't even know what to say. She didn't dare to look him in the eye, or any of the other boys. The guilt she'd been carrying around with her all these centuries was only getting stronger. 

She could hear voices behind her, probably the boys talking amongst themselves, or maybe they were trying to talk to her. She didn't know. Nothing around her was clear and precise. Her vision was blurring, her heart rate had been racing for a while and she was getting worse. 

She gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round abruptly, facing Namjoon. The other boys were behind him, except for Yoongi who was next to Jin. 

"Hey," he greeted her with a gentle smile, "don't worry, everything's going to be fine,” he repeated Jimin’s words, “You're having a panic attack, I'm gonna help you, okay? Look at me."

His voice was soft and reassuring, it had a calming effect on her. His presence and warmth invaded her whole being, despite the anxiety attack she was having. 

She raised her eyes to meet him. Slowly, he tells her to take long, deep breaths. The first time, she breathed in and breathed out. Then a second time. And a third. 

Finally, her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate calmed. Seeing this, Namjoon gave her another smile, his fingers caressing her shoulder to calm her down. 

She had the strange impression that Namjoon probably possessed some kind of power capable of influencing the emotions, feelings, or even bodily reactions of the people he touched. Or maybe it was just the soulmate effect. 

"Feeling better?" 

"Yes... Thank you..." She replied with a small smile, seeing Hoseok approach her with a glass of water. "Thanks… and sorry, I wish we'd met under different circumstances..."

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm enchanted to meet you." 

Hoseok gave her a big, bright smile, which he succeeded in communicating to her. 

"I guess you guys have questions... and why did I show up with Jin in this state..."

She turned her attention to Jin. A wave of emotion suddenly washed over her as she realized that yes, he was there, in the same room as her. Her soul mate, the first to cross her way, the one she'd lost so suddenly and brutally centuries ago. A mixture of joy, sadness, guilt, and apprehension. 

"Do you know what's going on with him? And why is he in this condition?" Hoseok asked curiously, taking back the glass she'd just drunk in one long sip.

She bit her lower lip nervously. She had to tell them. Jin was their soulmate, just like he was hers.

But where to start?

"Come on, settle down here."

Yoongi straightened up to install her on the sofa, right next to Jin still unconscious. He'd then sat down next to her, while the others had taken seats in front of her, Namjoon and Hoseok on the low table, the maknae on the floor, clinging to each other.

The sight made her smile gently. But quickly the smile disappeared, replaced by apprehension. The words just wouldn't come out of her mouth. She knew that the moment had come, that once she'd told them everything, they'd hate her, reject her, and she’d lose the people she'd waited for all her life. 

"Noona... I can smell your fear all the way up here..." murmured Jimin, her eyes landing on him with surprise, "I'm an empath, by the way..." he explained with a shrug. 

"You don't have to be an empath to sense the fear radiating from her." chuckled Taehyung, teasing his companion who gave him a nudge on the shoulder, "Oops, sorry sweetie." 

"I know that from the moment you will know the whole story, you'll never want to hear from me again and I... argh that's the last thing I want," she admitted with a sad smile. The events of the last few days had paralyzed and overwhelmed her in some ways when it came to making the right decisions, and she was extremely upset with herself about this.  

"But I think I need to stop being scared, and selfish like I have been."

"We could never hate you," Hoseok said firmly, the others all giving signs of approval, "no matter what you've done." 

"Tell us all the horrible things you ever did, and let us love you anyway."

She recognized Namjoon's words. And she wasn’t surprised that he could quote Edgard Allan Poe, considering the circumstances of their first meeting. 

She couldn't deny that his words made her feel a tinge of comfort, because he was sincere, and every one of the other boys thought so. 

But they didn't know the whole story yet, so the chances of them thinking differently once they knew the whole truth were pretty high. 

"Where to start..." she took a long breath, "Jin... I met him before I even knew I was immortal. That was... uh... it seems like an eternity now, at the beginning of the 15th century."

She expected the exclamations of surprise that followed. 

"Wait... you mean you and Jin hyung..." Jungkook fell silent to think. 

"Why didn't he ever tell us about you then? And why have we never met you before ?” asked Yoongi skeptically, "You're our soulmate, his soulmate, how could he..."

"It's more complicated than it sounds..." she sighed, scratching the back of her head nervously. "I always knew I was a witch, my mother was a witch herself. I lived in a village in France during the period when the witch hunts began. It was also during this period that the Malleus Maleficarum was written." 

"I know this book," Hoseok sighed loudly as he shook his head, visibly annoyed, "this pile of garbage written in the late 15th century, which supposedly explains what a witch is, how to recognize one, interrogate them, and kill them."

"A load of bullshit yeah," Namjoon added with a chuckle, "I rarely waste my time reading books, but this one..."

"Tell me more !" Jimin exclaimed, "I read it too, well, not all of it, it's so... misogynistic and sexist!" 

"I... was one of the witches who had to go through all the torture and experimentation to write this... book or whatever it is. And most of the women who suffered all that crap were just ordinary mortals," she admitted with a little restraint. 

Horrified exclamations were heard from the maknaes and Hoseok. Yoongi and Namjoon closed their eyes for a few seconds, repressing the anger rising within them. 

Talking about these events did not leave her indifferent; these memories were among the worst she had ever known, and she still sometimes had nightmares about them. 

She remained silent for a few moments, before finally speaking up.

"That's not the point. Jin is the point. When I met him, he was a merchant passing through the village." A small smile appeared mechanically as she recalled this memory, "It was love at first sight. Of course, it was. He knew I was his soul mate, but I... I didn't even know what a soulmate was. He taught me. He taught me so many things..."

She turned her head towards Jin, still unconscious beside her. Oh, how she'd missed him. He hadn't changed a bit. 

"I immediately sensed that he wasn't human, just as he'd guessed that I was a witch. So much better in a way, it made things easier."

Delicately, she let her fingers stroke his forehead, brushing aside a few strands of hair, a tender smile on her face.

"He stayed in the village after that. I had taken over the bakery from my parents who had passed away from an illness a few months before I met him. We weren't the richest, but we were happy.”

The other boys couldn't contain the grins on their faces. Of course, this story was beautiful and worthy of a fairy tale. But they all knew that fairy tales were only fantasy stories. The reality was not nearly as lovely. 

"We lived... two years like that before everything went to hell."

She felt her hands tremble as she recalled what she was about to say.

Jimin sensed her nervousness, fear, and sadness. He left Taehyung and Jungkook's embrace to kneel before her, gently taking her hands in his for comfort.

Her gaze met his, and he offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. But she couldn't relax.

"The witch-hunt had begun and was becoming increasingly virulent and violent. The villagers had always thought it was strange that I hadn't suffered the same illness as my parents. I knew the rumors about Jin and I. But until now, we'd managed to keep a discreet, almost unnoticed presence. Until she came along."

Jimin squeezed her hands a little tighter as he felt her anger rising. 

"That demoness... came to our village, supposedly a cloth merchant. She fell for Jin. Was it love, or just a physical attraction? I don’t know. She succumbed to his devastating charm, like so many others before her." She chuckled, imitated by Yoongi. 

"As you would expect, Jin did nothing but ignore her and rebuff her advances. She didn't appreciate it at all… I learned later that this half-succubus demoness was renowned for finding prey and not letting go until she got what she wanted."

"A real nasty leech..." muttered Jungkook.

She noticed, however, that Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok expressions had changed. They had exchanged glances, seeming to pass a message to each other that she didn't understand. She decided to ignore it for the moment.

"Things got worse after she arrived, after Jin's rejection." She took a long breath. "She's the one who delivered me to the villagers, who exposed me. When we realized her plan, that she was planning to take Jin with her by force, by any means necessary, we wanted to run away. We'd go to Asia, or America, or wherever, to another continent, away from her, away from all of this. But that demoness had planned everything… We were young, unaware, and inexperienced, unlike her. I was barely 25, and he was 23... we just wanted to..."

She paused to calm herself, her heartbeat quickening again. Fortunately, Jimin was able to calm her, just by being here, his soft hands on hers, and she was grateful for that. She thanked him with a small smile, which he returned by stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. How could a demon be so angelic? 

"She specialized in memory magic..."

"Oh, I'm getting the hang of it..." muttered Namjoon, clenching his jaw.

"That bitch…" added Yoongi, making her huff.

"The villagers arrived in the middle of the night. We didn't see it coming. The demoness took advantage of this moment to attack Jin and cast a spell to erase me from his memory. The last time I saw Jin was before they put a bag over my head when he was unconscious in her arms." 

She lowered her head, and it was only when she felt Jimin's soft hand on her cheek that she noticed a tear had rolled down. 

She knew what the demoness had done, she knew that she'd erased Jin's memory, simply because she'd come to see her a few days later in the cell where she was being held captive. She explained everything, adding that she had offered to give her over to the Catholic order of Dominicans who wrote the Malleus Maleficarum. Which happened, the day after she came.

"When I finally escaped... After several months," she continued anyway, her voice trembling, "I looked for him, I... crossed France from top to bottom, and Europe... I looked for him everywhere, for many years... I never found him... until now..." 

Jimin's hands gripped hers a little tighter. She looked up at him, then at Yoongi, who had moved a little closer to her. Their shoulders were touching, his way of showing her some comfort. 

"So that's what happened..." muttered Namjoon, who had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowed, looking thoughtful.

"I hate humans..." blurted Jungkook as he hugged Taehyung tightly, his companion nodding in agreement. 

"And so, you thought we'd hate you, or I don't know what other nonsense might go through your little head when we know the truth?" Yoongi asked, holding back a laugh. “I don’t see why. I mean. It’s genuine, really.”

She arched her eyebrows in confusion. She thought that it seemed logical. She hadn't been able to protect Jin, she’d left him in the clutches of this demoness who'd probably done a thousand and one things to him that she didn't even want to think about. She hated herself for it.

"Hyung." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head, "stop."

"I failed to protect him, he's my soulmate and... I abandoned him and..."

"You didn't do any of that, Y/N."

Namjoon approached her. He took Jimin’s place and knelt down facing her, placing his hands on hers. 

"You're both the victims. You've met someone stronger, older, more experienced than you and she took advantage of it. You did everything you could. You did your best. You could never be blamed for that. We could never blame you for that. ."

"And Jin hyung won't blame you either, I'm sure," Hoseok added with a small smile. "When he will regain his memory, when we will give him back what that demoness stole from him, he'll be the happiest man in the world to have you back with him, with us. Believe me."

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry, not yet. 

Yoongi wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

"It's over now," he whispered against her hair, "you're not alone anymore, you won't be. We've found you, you've found us." 

She couldn't hold back the few tears that had started to fall. How could she not break down, after all those centuries spent alone, thinking that her soulmates didn't want her, living with the guilt of having abandoned the only soulmate she’d ever known. 

They said the same things as her friends when she told them everything a few days ago.

None of them thought for a second that what happened to Jin and her was her fault. 

That feeling of being understood, of not being judged, of being accepted despite her past mistakes and scars.

That feeling of being in the presence of her soul-mates. 

She hadn't felt so at peace in what seemed like an eternity. Ever since Jin and her were separated.

°°°

"Noona... I have a few questions..."

"Here we go... the kid and his questions. Wait, I'll get you an aspirin and a big glass of water."

Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who had gotten up to go into the kitchen, a sneer on his lips.

Jin still hadn't woken up, but after a simple soothing spell and an herbal ointment she’d carefully placed on his temples, he was calmer, his body more relaxed.

She hadn't wanted to stay, not wanting to risk another attack if Jin woke up again. She learned through Yoongi about the migraine attacks he'd had since the day she met Namjoon. 

But the boys convinced her to stay. Namjoon and Hoseok had disappeared into their library, explaining that they were going to rummage through their books after a potential counter-spell. She wanted to go with them, but they insisted she stay with Jin and rest. 

It didn't take long to realize that Jin's seizures had a direct link with her.

As her soul mate, and despite his forced amnesia, his subconscious knew who she was. But it wasn't strong enough to bring back the memories the demoness had made disappear. Well, they hadn't disappeared, technically; she'd just hidden them very well somewhere in his psyche.

her scent on the clothes of Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had been the trigger for his subconscious to awaken, for his memories to struggle, to resurface and make Jin realize that yes, he did know her, as his intuition suggested. Yes, the person on the hill was her, yes every memory he thought belonged to someone else was his, and that the blurry person sharing them with him was none other than her.

The migraines, the loss of consciousness... were only signs that his body, mind, and soul were fighting to bring his memories back to where they belonged, to finally give him back what that demoness had stolen from him.

Or at least, that's what she’d come to conclude on hearing Yoongi's explanations.

"Ask me anything Jungkook, don't worry," she replied with a small smile, still sitting next to Jin. 

Yoongi had returned with some drinks (no aspirin, to Junkook's great relief) which he gave to the three maknae, still sitting opposite her, and to her, then sat down on the coffee table. 

"I was wondering, how did you find out that you were... immortal? I mean, what does that actually mean?"

She'd been expecting this question. Even for demons, immortality was still a rather vague concept. Nobody is immortal. Demons and vampires aged slowly, very much more slowly than human beings. But they weren't really immortal. 

"I died for the first time after the Malleus Maleficarum experiments, they sentenced me to be hanged to death, like all the witches at that time." 

She heard the exclamations of surprise from the maknaes. Yoongi remained silent, listening to her attentively. 

"I actually died that day. Except... except a few seconds after I took my last breath, my heart started beating again, and I came back to life."

None of them could believe their ears. Yoongi couldn't hide his surprise either, and she knew that a thousand questions were forming in their heads. 

"The second time was a few days later. At a bonfire." she continued, bowing her head, "The thing is… I feel all the pain, all the way to death. But for some reason, I live again and again. No matter how people try to kill me, no matter how I die, my wounds heal themselves, my organs reform." 

"Is it due to a spell?" finally asked Yoongi with his eyebrows furrowed, "or maybe some kind of witch, a hybrid with a phoenix..."

"I think you're going a bit far, hyung..." Taehyung chuckled slightly. 

"Hey, every proposition can be plausible, gamin."

She couldn't hold back a smile. It was obvious that they'd known each other for several decades now, that they'd been through a lot together. In a way, she was relieved that at least they hadn't had to go through all that alone. 

"I've never known the reason, or why I became like that," she finally continued, scratching the back of her neck, "I just am. Several times I thought I wouldn't get up this time from certain injuries, especially during the wars, but I always got up again. And just like that, more than 600 years have gone by." 

"Maybe it's just that fate didn't want you to die before you met your soul mates, who knows." Yoongi chuckled, shrugging. 

"If you think the universe and destiny are that kind of romantic..." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"I'm tempted to believe that theory, it's much sweeter and more romantic than a curse put on you..." added Jimin with a little pout. 

"Sometimes things just happen, and they're impossible to explain. Even for creatures like us." she let go with a sigh and an embarrassed smile, "In any case, I've stopped looking and obsessing over it, I've just accepted it."

"Still, it must be painful to die, over and over again..." Jimin cocked his head to the side, feeling a wave of sadness as he thought of all she'd had to go through in her long life. As an empath, his reaction hardly surprised her.

If they knew. She didn't want to dwell on how some humans and even other creatures had taken advantage of her immortality to put her through the many horrors she’d experienced. This wasn't the time to talk about all those things.

“Our pretty soulmate is strong and courageous.” Yoongi finally broke the silence after a few seconds, “She’ll talk about it when she feels ready.” 

She bites her lips. She wanted to tell him to not call her pretty, but she felt that it was destined to fail. Yoongi seemed to be stubborn, maybe a little too much. 

“Do you guys think Joonie and Hobi will find something ?” Asked Jungkook, looking at Jin with worry. 

“For sure they will!” exclaimed Jimin, “Namjoon has books that are centuries old and unique, Hobi and him are the most intelligent demons ever! They’ll find something, surely!”

Jimin was passionate, his trust in his partners was blind and absolute. It was probably the same for all of them, she was sure about it, but Jimin was the one who showed it the most. 

“In the worst case…”

“Taehyung don’t start…” mumbled Jungkook, as the others sighed. 

“Let me finish! In the worst case, if we don’t find anything for Jin hyung, the solution is simple, very simple. We’ll create new memories, so many new happy memories all together!”

“If something was robbed from you without your consent, I think you'd like to have it back. Don't you think so?" Yoongi asked, his voice softened as he ruffled Taehyung’s hair who nodded with a sad pout.

He was just as worried as the others. There were so many unanswered questions, so many theories without explanations, so many problems without solutions yet.

“Namjoon and Hoseok always find a way to resolve problems, you should be used to it now.” 

That voice startled all of them. All five heads turned to the sofa beside Yoongi and her. To everyone's surprise, Jin was staring at them, or rather, at her. 

“Jin you’re awake !”

While the younger hurried towards their eldest, their faces racked with worry and relief, she reflexively stepped back.

She couldn't get very far, as her back bumped into a chest. She turned to face Yoongi, who placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He could read the stress and apprehension on her face. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now, coming face to face with the one she'd lost centuries ago. 

"Where are you going like this?" he asked at first in a slightly teasing tone, before he leaned towards her and whispered, his voice softening, "Relax, everything's fine."

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She'd spent her whole life looking for Jin and his other soulmates. Now they were all here. They were all in the same house. Everything still seemed so unreal that she didn’t know how to react or what to do. 

“Y/N ?”

She froze when she heard her name coming from Jin's lips. The others in the room gave him a surprised, confused look.

"Hyung, do you..."

"Remember her? Us? Unfortunately not, I don’t. But I heard you guys talking earlier, I wasn't totally unconscious. Thanks for the herbs, by the way, they really appeased my headache."

Her eyes widened at his words. Had he heard everything? Did he know the whole story, just like his other soulmates? In a way, she didn't know if she could handle a new explanation, which was a bit of a relief. On the other, she was concerned about his reaction, since he was the one who was affected. 

Jin straightened up to sit on the sofa, helped by Jimin. Yoongi was still standing behind her and gave her a gentle nudge, so that she didn't push herself aside. 

Jin's eyes landed on her. For a moment, he said nothing, just looked at her. She could feel the stress twisting her stomach, her legs going limp as cotton. She felt weaker than she had ever felt before. 

"Can you come a little closer, please?" 

Jin's voice was soft; she perceived no anger, no resentment on his side. He had kept his comforting aura, the same one she'd known so long ago, the same one that had reassured her countless times. 

She soon faced him and lowered herself slightly to be at the same height as him. 

How was someone supposed to react to finding their soulmate and youthful amnesiac love, lost in tragic circumstances centuries ago? 

She was torn between tears of joy and relief, but the guilt that consumed her seemed to be the most dominant feeling at the moment. 

"Jin I..."

She pursed her lips. Her voice trembled. For sure her body would betray her right now. 

Jin offered him a tender smile and shook his head. 

"Shht, it's all right." he murmured his words as he gently grasped her hand, "come here."

Without waiting for a response from her, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. 

At first, her eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her arms followed and she hugged his waist as if her life depended on it. 

"I know what you're thinking," he began, his hand running gently through her hair, "I'm not angry or anything, how could I be? It was never your fault, nor mine." He paused before letting out a small sigh, she could hear all the pain, the sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry you've had to carry this burden all alone all this time…"

Her whole body was shaking. His voice was shaking, as if he were holding back his own tears. She was fighting inside. She was fighting herself not to break down. But her traitorous body still betrayed her, and she couldn't even control her tears, which had started to flow uncontrollably. 

But his words. His words resonated not only in her heart but in her entire soul. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words from him until now. 

"We'll find a way, and everything will go back to normal, it will be even better, I promise."

After all these years, these centuries of living with the weight of guilt, the weight of regret, the feeling that she'd never be able to meet her soul mates... she felt all this weight recede, making way for a quietude and lightness like she'd never known before. 

An eternity of torment, torture, and pain was finally over. 

It was as if she'd been deprived of oxygen all her life, until now, as if her breathing had been cut off, and now she was finally getting it back. 

And even though she was currently crying her heart out in Jin's arms, she could also feel Taehyung's warm, reassuring hand on her back, Jimin's, Jungkook's, and Yoongi's presence in the room, Namjoon's and Hoseok's, even if they weren't in the same room with them. 

Her cries were no longer cries of sadness. There was only relief, and it was becoming more of an evacuation from all that time of pain and isolation. 

All those smells, all that warmth that invaded her body at that moment, brought her calm and relief she'd never be able to explain, not even in a day, a year, ten years, or even a hundred years.

The reunion with Jin that day, feeling him against her again, as well as having the presence of her soul mates around them, those who were destined for her. After all this time where her heart and soul had been crying out for help, she had finally been heard. 

The darkness was finally disappearing, as the clouds and obscurity finally allowed the sun a chance to shine.

And despite her tears, she couldn't help smiling, because at last, she knew that happiness really was within her grasp.

[natsukishinomiyaswife]

Love had always come naturally to her, from her unique magic to her love of matchmaking. People would travel all around Briar Valley to reach her, seeking her talents for themselves. To find their special someone, the one they hold dear. To fall in love, truly and unconditionally.

She was Briar Valley's own cupid, a Fae that believed everyone deserved to be loved, that everyone should have their own "happily ever after". Some would say she was naive, oblivious to the world around her. She just wanted everyone to be happy, and yet...

She wanted to be loved too, longing for someone to call her own. No matter how hard she tried, no matter how many times she fell, she would never get the "happily ever after" she longed for.

From abusive partners to unrequited love, she experienced it all. And with every heart break her bitterness grew, eyeing the happy couples around her. The couples she made...

In her despair she spiraled, using her unique magic to separate couples rather than make them, having them fall for her instead. The feelings were artificial, their love untrue, and yet...

Even if it were only for a moment... hold her close. Tell her you love her, that you can't live without her, that she's worthy of love too...

As years turned to centuries, she resigned herself to her fate, leaving Briar Valley behind. She was no longer Lady Ruthleen, beloved matchmaker turned homewrecker. She was just Ruthleen, living a quiet life alone in the Queendom of Roses.

Or at least, she was... until a raven came, delivering a letter to her door.

"... A teacher? Me? What a foolish idea..."

And yet she agrees, on her way to Night Raven College.

Ms. Ruthleen Marraine, Night Raven College's newest staff member ♡

Uh... surprise? lol ♡ Anyway, the OC I posted art of here is Ruthleen, and I'm sure if you were familiar with my old OC Ruthie (who is now retired) that you probably remember Ruthleen from her backstory (so... surprise! lol ♡)

I decided to change Ruthleen's backstory a bit and make her her own character (since Ruthie doesn't exist anymore) and... yeah! Though she is cold and bitter, perhaps one day she will find the love she's always wanted ♡ (if anyone's interested /j lol ♡)

Tagging those that liked her original post, in case you were curious who she was (She'll have a proper introduction eventually lol ♡):

@theolivetree123, @offorestsongs, @midnightmah07, @0honeybones0, @br3adtoasty

@cheerleaderman, @beneathsakurashade, @the-rini-rush, @babyghoul138, @starry-night-rose

Thank you! ♡

[carefulfears]

knowing you, you have probably talked about it before but i’d really love to know what you think about mulder’s savior/sacrificial lamb complex. i think it was csm that mentioned in amor fati that mulder’s hero complex would be the end of him one way or the other and it always reminds me of this essay “the gods show up” where the “tragic hero” is described as a human who’s by fate already dead, but keeps talking and trying for the sake of something bigger anyway (aka that post where you said mulder belongs to scully but that just ends up being the reason for her hurt because he also belongs to something bigger that doesn’t care for his well being). strangely it also reminds me of that interview where dd said “mulder is a guy who has been given the problems as jesus” lol.

this is such a beautiful question...the first thing that you have to understand is that i genuinely view fox mulder as a benevolent second coming of christ and every written word stems from the point of view of its author, so. the second is that i think duchovny had an understanding of the character that made that story/franchise what it was and his description of a "profoundly human model of christ" in writing the base-work of amor fati (a conflict between larger purpose and desire for normal life) is as unironically insightful as it is extremely funny. the third is that when mr. x shoves mulder against the wall of the hospital garage in one breath and tells him "i used to be you. but you're not me, mulder, i don't think you have the heart" - it's as much endorsement as it is damnation.

if you look at these two quotes from the amor fati dream

CSM to mulder: "You've suffered enough - for the X-Files, for your partner, for the world. You're not Christ. You're not Prince Hamlet. You're not even Ralph Nader. You can walk out of this hospital and the world will forget you."

and later, mulder to diana: "I have commitments-- to the X-Files, to Scully, to my sister."

CSM is meant to be playing the role of the literal last temptation, the snake-like figure that has to lead his prey astray. but those three things that mulder still has his sights on (the x-files, scully, samantha) are three things that nobody else is dedicated to. nobody else is going to keep those cases open and search for answers and care about those victims. nobody else is scully's partner: working with her, looking after her, fighting with and for her. nobody else is inspiring her. nobody else is remembering his sister, missing her, looking for her. the mother that leaves him in a hospital room in this episode, is burning last signs of life a few chapters later.

i've seen people argue that the problem with this episode and its larger arc is that "CSM is right and the episode thinks he's wrong" but i don't think he is right. i don't think he thinks he's right. i think he's doing a job and mulder is doing a job, both playing their roles, and his thesis is that mulder has done "enough" and suffered "enough" for his list of commitments- but what's enough when no one is gonna tag you out? when the speaker is waiting for a clear shot? (i'm reminded here of one of my favorite audries fic lines: "he sits on the bed, the line of his shoulders going curved and uneven. even hercules would have dropped the weight of this world.")

which is all to say (and remember my point#1 at the top), that i wouldn't describe mulder's "savior complex" as even really being a complex, i think it's just the world. i used to talk about sometimes how moving it is to me that mulder was born into this world and was always going to die for this cause and the story is about people who choose to follow. who have every opportunity available to them and want to do this work at any cost. who won't leave him in it alone, at any cost.

it's scully at the end of the road saying that she would do it "all over again."

it's skinner's "if given the choice between advancing my career by being blindly loyal to some faceless puppeteers pulling strings from the shadows, or to throw in with you two, make no mistake about it. i'd make the same decision every single damn time."

and anon i really love that quote you shared, which is from the gods show up by michael kinnucan: "The center of every tragedy is the image of a human being who has already died but keeps talking, someone whose face is a mask."

which, as you alluded, is what i define as the tragedy of mulder's character. that he was always going to die for the cause he was born into ("there is no other version of this story") and perhaps more tragic: that people depend on him, at any cost. that scully dedicates her life to someone who will list her as his tethering responsibility, but who doesn't belong to her. cannot be predominantly responsible to her, of her. harsh punishment for fruitful crimes.

[gingersnapwolves]

hey so ... it's been a while since I've done this lol ... but I'm looking for a few beta readers for my original novel ... sadly unpaid but at least you get a book for free if that's your jam!

to put it in AO3 speak:

The Left Behind City by Kouri Arashi

Rated M

Archive Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence

Roughly 250K words

M/M relationship, M/F relationship

Tags: post apocalypse, dystopian setting, late-stage capitalism and climate change killed the world, found family, angst, romance, hurt/comfort, mutual pining, multiple attempts to eat the rich (not literally), past child abuse, some very fucked up people, but they're doing their best

rather than a summary, I've put the prologue under a cut:

Tay thought that the worst thing about the end of the world was how damn long it was taking.

As a kid, he had been obsessed with dinosaurs, like many little boys were. He had read all the different theories about their extinction and about the generally agreed-upon logic to them having been wiped out by an asteroid. As an adult, he sometimes thought back to that asteroid, and thought that the dinosaurs had had it easy. Most of them had died upon impact, and those that hadn’t had only endured weeks or months of suffering before the end.

Tay was now entering the tenth year of the apocalypse, and an asteroid definitely would have been easier. Not better, perhaps, but easier.

There wasn’t even a single date that people would agree upon as the apocalypse. It had been a long, slow slide with a steep, sudden dive. He remembered that one of his friends had been joking, “The world’s ending and my boss still wants to know if I’ll be in on time.” It truly had been like that for a while. Despite the raging storms and heat waves and wildfires, most people tried to go on about business as usual. 

If asked to pick a date that the world had ended, most people would choose the date of the first terrible electrical storm. That was the one that had crashed financial systems all over the world. A quarter of the world’s wealth had disappeared in twenty-four hours, vanishing between circuits and synapses as if it had never existed in the first place. It had been followed by riots that had lasted weeks. Governments had been overthrown and militaries had taken control.

Tay always thought of a different date. He thought of the day the rich elite of the world had abandoned the rest of them to their fate.

Most people didn’t even know that had happened. He only knew because of Ash. Years after finding out about it, he had talked to a man who had worked on those bunkers and biodomes, up in the far north of Canada, almost in the Arctic Circle. He had traded five years of his labor for slave wages and the knowledge that his daughter would receive one of the coveted slots. But in the end, the people who owned the bunkers had reneged on that deal. There hadn’t been enough time to make them as big as necessary, to stockpile enough supplies, for as many people as they wanted. The doors had been closed and he and his daughter had been left outside.

The spaces were so limited that they had torn families apart. Parents had pushed their children into the arms of strangers. The rich and elite had left their own brothers and sisters, their own aunts and uncles and parents, behind to die. 

Tay didn’t know why Ash’s parents had left him behind. Although Ash had told him that they had gone to the compounds, the only reason Tay knew those compounds existed, he had never said anything about why he hadn’t gone. Tay hadn’t asked. For starters, it wasn’t his business, and secondly, Ash had been all but feral when Tay had met him, nearly a year later. But there was another reason why he didn’t ask, and that was because he didn’t want to validate it. He didn’t want Ash thinking that there was any reason on earth to leave him behind that would have been good enough.

Tay wouldn’t have considered himself a doomsday prepper. If he had been, he thought, he would’ve been a lot better prepared than he had been when the system had started to fail. Real doomsday preppers had been doing this for years or even decades. Whereas he only had about a year’s headstart on most of the people he knew. The first of the shortages had worried him. At that point, the system recovered, and for the most part, stores were fully stocked again. 

Most people assumed it had been a one-time thing. Tay couldn’t say why he hadn’t. Why there had been a certainty in his gut that it would happen again and again and again, and he didn’t want to be one of the people feeding the problem by panic-buying. So he started laying in stores. He went to bulk grocery stores and bought flats of canned food, boxes of first aid supplies, packs of water filters. Rather than a generator that would need gasoline, he bought an old-fashioned wood stove.

He was one of the lucky ones, he knew. He had been relatively healthy all of his life. When things got bad, he didn’t have to worry about where he would get his insulin or his asthma medication. He knew that a lot of those people died in the first year, some from their illnesses, others committing suicide before they could suffer a slow and debilitating death. He’d had a good friend die that way, someone he had known since middle school with Addison’s disease.

When the supply chains collapsed completely and the panic hit, Tay went into his basement  and assessed what he had. He internally debated whether it would be better to live on thin rations or not. Three years with a full stomach or five years always hungry? Was it worth living like that? Or was that life, at least, better than the alternative?

He decided to try to make it stretch as much as possible. And then, a year later, he had met Ash, and his careful plans and charts had been thrown into disarray.

Ash was twelve, and had been on his own for a year. Tay met him when he was out on a trip to the scrapyard to work up some extra defenses around the garage where he had lived and worked and now just lived. Ash came tearing out of the abandoned train station, saw Tay on his motorcycle, and jumped on behind him. “Drive, drive, drive!”

Tay drove, because it didn’t seem like the time to ask questions. He was glad he had kept his motorcycle, even though he struggled to keep it fueled. It was the best way to get around in the ruins of the city. When they got back to the garage, he saw the bruises on Ash’s face and said, “Come in, I’ll get you some water.”

Ash hesitated, and Tay supposed there were good reasons for that. Although at the time he hadn’t known how long Ash had been on his own, there were a lot of bad people who exploited the current circumstances. Tay was used to people finding him intimidating; he stood six foot four and was built like a linebacker. White people were especially nervous around him, but Ash was so dirty that Tay wasn’t actually sure of his race. He was worried about those bruises, and about a red mark underneath the dirt that looked like an open wound.

“Here,” he said, and handed Ash a pocket knife. “If I do anything shady, now you can defend yourself.”

After a moment, Ash nodded, and followed him into the garage. The windows were boarded up and the doors of the garage bays themselves had mountains of scrap in front of them to deter people who might want to get in. Tay had left only one door, the side door, to go in and out of. He closed it behind him and said, “I’m Tayquan. You can call me Tay. What’s your name?”

“None of your business,” the boy said.

“Well, that’s a little long for day-to-day conversation,” Tay said, and was rewarded by the tiniest twitch of Ash’s lips. He looked at the soot streaked all over the boy’s face and said, “How about I call you Ash?”

“I guess.” Ash accepted some water and a washcloth to clean himself up with. Tay was relieved to see that the red mark wasn’t a wound; it was a birthmark, a port-wine stain that started just underneath his left eye and covered most of his cheek. He tried to give Ash something to eat and offered to let him stay the night, but Ash had refused and left with barely a word and with Tay’s knife still in his pocket. 

Two weeks later, he had showed up on Tay’s doorstep again. He had been fighting, he said, had fallen and scraped his knees. They were dirty and he was concerned. He thought Tay might have something to help him clean them up.

Tay gave him some disinfectant, some antibiotic ointment, and some bandages. He tried again to get Ash to stay and eat, and again Ash refused and left. Tay was reminded forcefully of the stray cats who had lived behind his house when he was a child. He had left water out for them, and sometimes fed them, and although most remained wary their entire lives, there was one that he had coaxed inside. The cat had been his friend for years, and he still missed her sometimes.

A few days later, Ash showed up again, but not for help this time. He brought a bag full of scraps that he had gathered. “I saw you were building things,” he said, nodding towards Tay’s efforts to build a solar-powered generator. “I thought maybe you could use this stuff.”

Tay was again reminded of stray cats and how they sometimes left mice or birds on his doorstep. “Sure,” he said, smiling, as he went through the bag. Nuts and bolts, scrap metal, wires, pieces of old electronics. Most of it would probably be useless, but there were a few gems inside. “You hungry?”

Ash said he wasn’t and left. But a few hours later, he was back. There was a storm rolling in and he didn’t have time to get back to ‘his own place’, wherever that was. He asked if he could stay until the storm had passed. Tay agreed, because he could smell the electricity in the air and he knew it was going to be a bad one. 

He was already cooking, although it was just rice and beans in an old pot on his wood stove. “Since you’re here, you should eat,” he said firmly, and shoved a plate into Ash’s hands. Ash was canny enough to keep Tay at arm’s length but not enough to understand how to eat without looking as hungry as he was. He shoveled the food into his mouth and licked the plate clean. He fell asleep in a corner, and Tay covered him with a blanket. The storm was still raging when Tay went to sleep, but when he woke in the morning, it had passed, and Ash was gone.

For almost six months, he came and went, sometimes with items to give to Tay, oftentimes with new injuries that needed tending. Tay always told him about whatever he was building and how he had used what Ash had brought him on his most recent visit. Sometimes he would accept food from Tay; sometimes he wouldn’t. If the weather was bad, he would stay for a few hours. He told Tay that he normally slept in a closet at the old train station.

“Why the train station?” Tay asked, and Ash wouldn’t tell him. It wasn’t until years later that Tay realized Ash had been waiting there, waiting desperately for his family to come back even though he knew that would never happen. 

When winter hit, Tay said, “Listen, I know you can take care of yourself. But last winter was brutal and this one is probably going to be worse. You won’t be able to come see me and I’m going to worry about you. I won’t tell you what to do, but I’ll worry a lot less if you stay here with me.”

Ash seemed to weigh this in his mind for a minute before he said, “Well, I guess if it’ll make you happy.”

Tay had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. “It will.”

Ash stayed with him for the winter. Four months where the days were oppressively dark. Four months where the temperature would be twenty below for five days straight and then seventy for two days after that. Four months of blizzards sweeping through, snow piling up around the garage only to melt and flood the basement a week later.

That was another way Tay knew he had been lucky. There was no good place to live during the apocalypse. But there were places that were worse than others. He wasn’t on the coast, worrying about massive hurricanes and rogue waves. He wasn’t in the west, worrying about enormous wildfires or mudslides that swallowed entire neighborhoods. He was just far north enough not to be in tornado alley, although that didn’t mean there were no tornadoes - only fewer of them. In the summer, they had terrible electrical storms, scorching heat waves and flash flooding, but that was no worse than anywhere else in the country, and a fair amount better. Their winters were worse, especially the blizzards that swept off the lakes, but they were survivable.

He had worried that four months closed up would drive Ash stir-crazy, but he handled it better than Tay did. He moved a lot, running up and down the stairs, climbing the garage equipment, keeping himself active. He learned mechanics from Tay and helped him keep the place tidy. Tay taught him the basics of cooking and Ash read every single book that Tay owned.

When the weather turned to spring - two weeks of mud before the temperatures began to spike - Ash began to wander again. Tay didn’t protest. But things had changed after four months with Ash living at the garage. Ash came back for dinner a few nights each week, and slept there more nights than he didn’t.

It completely destroyed Tay’s careful rationing. But he didn’t have any regrets. Nobody should be alone at the end of the world.

That had been almost ten years ago. He and Ash had saved each others’ lives countless times, had made new friends, had created systems to get what they needed. Tay rarely wished for an asteroid anymore. The world was ending and every day was a struggle, but to have missed out on knowing this boy he would have called a son would have been a tragedy. They would survive for as long as they could.

~ ~ ~ ~

please let me know if you're interested in reading and vetting for plot holes, typoes, logistical errors, et cetera! you can leave a comment here or send me an ask. I have no idea how many people will be interested, especially with something this long, but if I get a lot of takers I probably won't send it to everyone who asks, just be warned about that. thanks all in advance!

[mysticstarlightduck]

Kiss Picrew Tag!

I was inspired by this amazing post by @mk-writes-stuff, and decided to make a few of my own with my WIPs characters! I'll go with Song of Thorns, Supernova Initiative, Of Starlight and Beasts and Enchanted Illusions because I had free time and hyperfocus lmao! Let's go!

By the way, if you like this, please reblog, it helps a lot 💕

Augustus & Harriet (Enchanted Illusions)

Aaah, my lovelies! Augustus, the book's resident necromancer, and Harriet, our lovely weirdo. They've got a little blood splashed onto their faces, probably as a result of a battle they've just won, but they don't mind (he is a necromancer and she has seen some stuff, why would they mind lmao?)

Renn & Roselyn (Song of Thorns)

They're adorable and I love them with all my heart, Your Honor, lmao. Renn is a half-vampire fey who was born a noble and became a thief due to unfortunate circumstances, and Roselyn is his sweetheart who is a spirited girl ready to defeat the King.

Elveryn & Cadenza (Song of Thorns)

The Monster Hunter who fell in love with an Elven Fey and both of them had a redemption arc. Technically his hair isn't white (Kane's is, not his) but a very pale shade of blond that the picrew didn't have, and he actually wears precision goggles instead of glasses, but you get the idea!

Tarrant & Aiden (Song of Thorns)

Tarrant (the one with red hair), the Silver Snake, and his lover Aiden (they/he), with whom he has a secret love story (which is a secret he has to keep hidden lest endanger Aiden because of his employer). Somewhat-starcrossed lovers with a dash of them being two angsty fools who are bad at communication lmao.

Jasen & Prince Alaric (Song of Thorns)

The Prince (Alaric) and the Pauper (Jasen), essentially! Again, Alaric's hair is actually a shade between dark auburn and dark blond, but I couldn't find it in the picrew so I went with the next best thing. They haven't had a chance to really kiss in the story but have been pining (without being aware that the feeling is mutual because they sure as heck are bad at reading emotions lmao.) for over a year, and really want to have that chance!

Jack & Lyorna (Supernova Initiative)

Once more, lol, Jack's hair is actually not this shade - he is red-haired, but his hair color is more of a natural auburn than this - but regardless! Lyorna is a young freedom fighter from an alien planet in the Khosmonian galaxies, and they meet during Jack's mission there and fell in love! They are adorable and stubborn.

Deimos & Vesper (Supernova Initiative)

ENEMIES TO LOVERS Y'ALL!!! Actually it's more of a Rivals-to-lovers situation lmao, but still. The Sniper and the Assassin. The Alien and the Cyborg. Both incredibly efficient at what they do, they initially annoyed each other to no end and were infuriated at the prospect of having to work together, but slowly, oh so slowly, started to care for each other and eventually fell in love, begrudgingly lmao.

Arammys & Corah (Of Starlight and Beasts)

The Mage and the Knight! Friends to Lovers! Arammys meets Corah by accident after losing his memories, and the duo embarks on a fateful quest to save the continent from a warmongering queen and break an ancient prophecy, after she (Corah) learns of the land's fate.

(Arammys hai is actually golden but I didn't find the option!)

Tagging (gently): @sleepy-night-child, @kaylinalexanderbooks, @smol-feralgremlin, @oh-no-another-idea, @littleladymab,

@winterandwords, @cowboybrunch, @eccaiia, @sarahlizziewrites, @illarian-rambling

@agirlandherquill, @anoelleart

@leave-her-a-tome, @writernopal, @anyablackwood, @unstablewifiaccess, @forthesanityofstorytellers

@i-can-even-burn-salad, @cakeinthevoid

@lassiesandiego, @thepeculiarbird, @clairelsonao3, @memento-morri-writes, @starlit-hopes-and-dreams and OPEN TAG

[some-distant-star]

Fic authors self rec!

No one tagged me, but I'm doing it anyway..

When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass on to at least five other writers. Let's spread the self-love 💞

1. Lovers Entwined(The Pendant) 18+ This is a 6 chapter loki x female (reader) character fic that takes place in the TVA. Loki is biding his time as a captive turned TVA agent before his escape. He can not deny his growing feelings for his agency assigned mentor and friend, but when she finds an Asgardian pendant in the archives, things take an unexpected turn for them both.

2. Painted as Friends; Fated as More 18+ Loki one-shot with female artist reader/character. Friends to lovers 💕 in which Loki finally makes a move.

3. One Chance (Is Sometimes All You need) teen and up. This was based on a rare anonymous request I received about Loki going on a blind date after Thor and Tony created an account for him. Just some cute fluff.

4. Before I Go 18+ A one-shot for James Conrad from Kong: Skull Island and female reader. Conrad and reader spend a restless, loving night together before he leaves on a new assignment.

5. Claiming His Princess 18+ This was my only Aemond piece I've written. It was a flop lol, but I liked it. I'm not sure if I'll ever write for him again, though I do have a wip started for a cross over with him. This is another friends to lovers with modern Aemond and Helaena's best friend. Smut and fluff.

Tag game was for 5 fics, but my newest Loki piece is important to me so here is the link for that as well. Another friends to lovers as it's my favorite to write.

Worship You to Tears 18+

Tagging: @jobean12-blog @jackys-stuff-blog @mcufan72 @lokisprettygirl @vilyanenyavilya

Consider this an open tag if you see this post and want to participate.

🌠💚

[tragedycoded]

writeblr interview tag!

Thank you to loves @the-golden-comet and @sableglass for tagging me here and here. I need you know I made a serious effort not to be a sarcastic asshole as I answered these questions... four days ago. And then forgot to post them.

Let's ggo!

Short stories, novels, or poems? I published short stories in a previous life, but I suck at following prompts or instructions and have accepted my fate as a novelist.

What genre do you prefer reading? Horror. I'm in my post-cosmic horror era right now. Existential. Yeah. Although I don't write folk horror myself (I'm thinking Laird Barron, T. Kingfisher, Stephen Graham Jones) I do enjoy folk horror v much. Bonus points if the protagonists are middle-aged and it's not about how apartments/houses or children are scary. (No hate to domestic horror, I'm just not the target audience.)

Are you a planner or a write as I go kind of person? The first draft is me explaining the Situation to myself. If it happens to make even a tiny bit of sense, we're all lucky. Like, that almost never fucking happens. I didn't show Doom Metal Love Story to anyone until the third/fourth draft because any sense it makes came from me rambling at my roommate in the kitchen while high off my ass at ten in the morning last autumn.

I'm a rambler, baby~

What music do you listen to while writing? That depends! Most of the time it's the soundtrack of whatever video game I wish I were playing instead of working LOL. I've always been like this, it's not cute. Sometimes I rotate in a specific heavy metal album I've heard a million times if the vibes aren't right. If I'm really having a good day, it's '80s music.

Favorite books/movies? Yeah man I have some of those!

Favorite book is House of Leaves by Mark Z. Danielewski. Yes I realize this is a corny and uninspired answer. This book whipped ass when it was published and it whipped ass when I reread it in 2014 and I'm willing to bet money it would whip ass if I reread it in [current year].

Favorite movie is Aliens. The second one. It's the perfect movie. I refuse to acknowledge any film in the series other than Alien and Aliens. Corporal Hicks and Newt are still alive, you sons of bitches.

Any current WIPs? Yes.

If someone were to make a cartoon out of you what would your standard outfit be? A hooded sweatshirt, jeans, no shoes unless I'm out in public. Then it's flip flops. Fingerless gloves if it's chilly and muh arthritis is acting up.

Create a character description of yourself: The smell of pot smoke and the clicking of keystrokes barely penetrates the unopened window. Occasionally, they step out onto the back deck to smoke a cigarette and simultaneously praise and complain about the sun. They might be in their forties. They might own a cat. No one can agree on their height or their gender or whether they actually exist. Can only be contacted through instant message or email. Might be a ghost.

Do you like incorporating actual people you know into your writing? Hell, no LMAO. When I realize I've done it accidentally, I feel like I just got read by a therapist.

Are you kill happy with your characters? I may have killed all three main characters in DMLS multiple times, killed Khalid (from A Living Machine) when he was 12, in front of everybody, and I may intend to kill every character who appears in The Cave Dive, but...

... yeah OK there's something wrong with me.

Coffee or Tea while writing? Coffee all day every day.

Slow or fast writer? I type like someone is threatening to tickle my feet if I stop.

Where/who/what do you draw inspiration from? Uhhhhhhhh...

"OK yeah like that initial idea would be cool and all but make it worse."

If you were in a fantasy world, what would you be?

Most fav book cliche: This author comes from the land of "all cliches suck and should be avoided like the plague."

Least favorite cliche: Like the plague.

Favorite scene to write? Fight scenes. If I can't write a fight scene, let me write a fuck scene.

... why do I not write hockey romances, again?

Reason for writing? I've tried all other legitimate forms of occupation. This is the only one that rewards me for my ability to make shit up and type 40 wpm in first draft mode.

Tag! Usual apologizes for double-tagging go here, Jamie is silly.

@lychhiker-writes @cowboybrunch @finickyfelix @saturnine-saturneight

@ashfordlabs @autism-purgatory @noblebs @aintgonnatakethis

@the-golden-comet @asablehart @mauvecatfic @leahnardo-da-veggie

@sableglass @gioiaalbanoart @words-after-midnight

@lavender-bloom @jev-urisk @wyked-ao3

[cult-of-the-eye]

Mag 81 A Guest for Mr Spider

FUCK FORMER HEAD ARCHIVIST

Wait I need to check the timelines - this was 2 days after leitner's death

New spooky music???

My man is so fucking dramatic I love him so much "grand of sand behind my eye" love the way he speaks

Yeah FUCK JURGEN LEITNER

Omg the greying hair is canon??

Child in the 90s makes him at most 27 GOD DAMN. I was imagining like mid 30s...can you imagine a fucking 27 yr old using words like "ilk" when talking to you

Oh shit he's an orphan poor guy

Yeah ok a lot of his personality seems to make sense if you realise he was raised by his grandma

You know those memes that are like people raised by their grandparents are exceptionally polite but in a brisk way, talk fancy and are super posh? Yeah that's him.

Getting such neurodivergent vibes

Yeah he sounds like a main character from the start Jesus Christ he's such a kid who got traumatised and then grows up to be a horror protagonist vibes

My First Leitner lol like kids had to be introduced to them at a young age like those my first toys

He's so funny I can just imagine him as an 8 yr old getting super like affronted at this like how dare my grandma think I am of subpar intelligence he's such a little bitch from the start

"The eponymous Mr spider" even talking about his childhood trauma he's busting out the vocabulary

Fuck that story actually kinda rattled me I had my hand over my mouth in shock for most of it

I think it was the bit where the horsefly brought his son and they were both crying that got me, I could definitely imagine it scaring an 8 yr old

The way it drags out as well, with the pages of the same scene it really heightens the suspense

Is his childhood bully someone we should keep track of?? Love how he says Michael probably cause he sees him as a bully lol

It's interesting how despite him bullying him (quite badly seeing as though he beat him up) he's still like yeah but he saved my life and that means he deserves to be remembered

My bro didn't save your life on purpose, he was just trying to make it worse and happened to come to a terrible fate cause of that

I guess underneath it all he was still a kid who watched someone die, knowing they'd get eaten by a fucking spider, he still held him in some regard

The way he specified the guy was his bully even after he was being eaten though lol

He was desperate to get the book back? That's a leitner thing I guess, the book makes you want to keep it so it can finish whatever it wanted to do to you

On my relisten (which I will do once I've finished the series I'm sure of it), I'll have to look out for any reaction of leitners name

I wonder why Jon didn't react more to Carlos vittery's statement, like it must've terrified him? I saw a post a while back explaining Jon's thoughts and IT WAS GENIUS it was like of course he doesn't react, he must be terrified that someone knew about his experience and somehow did this to mess with him or it was a joke and he can't let anyone know that the Head Archivist is not Good at This ugh it's so good I'll tag it if I can find it

AHHHHH HE REGRETS DISMISSING THE OTHER STATEMENTS AHHHHHH

HE FINALLY ADMITS THAT HE NEEDS HELP WE LOVE THIS CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT YES YOU FUCKING DO BITCH.

yeah at least he's right about Elias killing leitner

GEORGIE THE EX GIRLFIEND

ITS SO WEIRD TO SEE HIM ACTUALLY NICE TO SOMEONE WOW HIS VOICE CHANGES SLIGHTLY AS WELL HES LESS ACADEMIC

THE ADMIRAL

Awwww he's so cute with georgie

GHOST PODCAST GHOST PODCAST

THE WHAT THE GHOST T SHIRT IS CANON???? AHH THATS SO CUTE

Can he not go back to his own flat?? Did he bring all his clothes to the archive and then subsequently leave them there? Does he even have a flat??

God Georgie is so nice I would kill for her

It's so funny that an apparent supernatural cynic dated a ghost podcaster

WOW SEASON 3 OFF TO AN AMAZING START I CANT WAIT TO KEEP LISTENING IM GONNA TELL MY THERAPIST ABOUT THIS TOMORROW!!!

[bri1234]

Ever After

Book: The Cursed Heart 2

Pairing: M!Kieran x F!MC

Word count: 2.4K sorry

Rating: Teen, light fluff

Summary: What if… Kieran gave up his immortality to be with Ella until the end?

Warning: There are spoilers in here.

A/N: This is the first fanfic I’ve ever posted. Please be kind. I’m very new to writing things like this and am unsure if I'm doing any of it right, but I wanted to explore Kieran giving up his immortality and some other things that were heavily teased in book 2 but never happened! Kieran giving up his immortality doesn’t happen in my headcanon, which I have yet to write anything about lol, it's just more of a what if :)

Also, this is my submission for the International Fairy Day event, with the prompt "Reading a Fairytale to the children."

Tagging: @choicescommunityevents @choicesficwriterscreations

“Once upon a time, there lived a young prince who was cursed by an evil fairy to be a beast until he found true love.

He lived alone in his castle with only a few servants for several years. Not many dared to visit because of his beastly appearance.

But one day, a man entered the castle. The Beast did not know this man, but watched him in the shadows.

The man made his way through the castle and eventually found the Beast's most prized possession, a rose. But this was not just any ordinary rose. As he neared his twenty-first birthday, the petals had started to wilt off faster. Every time one fell, he had less and less time to find true his love.

The man went to take it, for he had planned to bring it to his daughter as a gift. He promised her he would bring something back. But the Beast stopped him, and held him captive for attempting to steal.

The man, terrified by the hideous creature, asked to bargain with the Beast, claiming that he needed to get home to his daughter. The Beast told the man that he would return home and send his daughter to the castle, for she would be taking his place. The Beast ensured him that she would be well taken care of. The man, feeling as if he had no other option, agreed. He made the journey home to his daughter.

When he arrived, he told her what had happened. At first, she refused to leave. But eventually, she decided that she had to go, fearing what the Beast might do if she didn’t.

She made the journey, leaving her father and heading to the gloomy castle she had only seen in passing.

When she arrived, the Beast greeted her. He was shocked by her beauty, and she was scared by his beastly appearance.

At first, they both despised each other. But as time went on, the Beast slowly grew fond of Beauty, as he nicknamed her in his head. And Beauty had slowly grown fond of him. She realized that appearances do not make up who you are, but it is who you are within.

Despite his newfound feelings towards her, the Beast had kept it a secret that his time was almost up. Pushing this aside, he decided to let her go back to her father. He could see how much she missed him as each day passed.

Beauty was overtaken with joy at first. She had missed her father dearly, but also didn’t want to leave the Beast. So, she told him that she would return home, but promised to visit him soon. The Beast nodded, and watched as she left, heading towards her village. He had accepted his fate, and was happy that he was granted one last moment with her before the last petal fell.

Beauty had made it home safely, ignoring the pang in her heart of leaving the Beast. Her father was so happy she was home, and safe at that. She spent the next several hours retelling all of her time with the creature. But as she continued explaining it to her father, that same pang in her chest continued to grow. She had realized at that very moment that she had loved him, and felt the need to tell him immediately. With that, she told her father that she needed to go and left without explanation.

When she arrived at the castle, she found the Beast near his precious rose on death's door. He had told her of the curse, just not the extent of it.

Beauty, now understanding, confessed her love for him during his final moments.

When she watched his eyes close, she believed he was gone. As tears fell down her face while holding the Beast in her arms, she felt movement. Looking down, she found the Beast, who was very much alive, changing back into his princely form. For Beauty had just broken his curse.

Now returned to his former self, Beauty and the prince lived happily ever–”

All of a sudden, Kieran was interrupted by a very loud yawn. He looked down at his daughter, who was slowly starting to fall asleep in his lap.

“Daddy, why does that story sound so familiar?” Eve asked him with her face scrunched, gears turning in that pretty little head of hers as she tried to fight off sleep. She’s heard a story like this one before, she just can’t quite remember where or who.

Kieran was about to respond when the door to his daughter’s room opened. He watched as his wife came into view. A smile spread across his face. It took all his restraint to not run over and kiss her senseless. He would have waited for her at the door of their home, but didn’t want to disrupt the bed time process for their little Eve.

“Mama!” Eve squealed as she jumped out of Kieran’s lap.

“There’s my sweet angel,” Ella said smiling as she bent down to scoop her off the ground. Eve clung to her mother’s chest.

After a minute of hugging her mother, little Eve pulled back to look at her face. She put both of her tiny hands on her mother's cheeks.

“You are unharmed?” She said with a serious look on her face, her big eyes pouring into Ella’s. Both Kieran and her laughed.

“You, my dear, are just like your father,” Ella said with a smile as she tickled her little girl. Eve let out delighted giggles as she squirmed in her mother’s arms.

Kieran, who was sitting on the edge of Eve’s tiny bed, watched the interaction between his wife and daughter fondly, heart swelling with love. Eve was a spinning image of Ella, just with his dark eyes and wicked smile. Despite being a changeling, she looked completely mortal. He can only believe that it’s because he’s mortal now, and for that reason, she looks completely mortal as well. He then stood up and within two strides, he was right at his wife’s side.

“You are unharmed though?” He asked with the same serious face their daughter had.

Ella used her free hand to cup her husband’s cheek. “I am unharmed, my love.”

Kieran smiled as he put his hand over hers and laced his fingers through. To him, she had only been gone for three days and yet it felt like forever. But for Ella, it had only been a few hours since time works differently in the Fae realm. Regardless, this was her first time leaving Kieran and their daughter ever.

Kieran pressed a kiss to her temple and then rested his forehead right where he kissed. He whispered in her ear, “We have missed you dearly, beloved.”

Ella, still holding Eve, who within not even a few minutes had fallen asleep on her chest, whispered back, “I have missed you both as well, my love.” She looked up at him with a smile.

Eve started to stir in her arms. “How come she’s so tired?” Ella asked him, chuckling a little. An affectionate smile spread across his face. Kieran whispered back in her ear, “She refused to go to bed until you were home safe. It very much reminded me of you back when we met,” he said with an amused smile.

Ella swatted him playfully, but he caught her hand and brought it to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I’m not even back for ten minutes and you’re already teasing me,” Ella responded, smiling even wider.

“I have three days worth of teasing to make up for. Plus, I know you’re rather fond of my shenanigans.”

Ella muffled her laughter, as her daughter was sleeping in her arms. She carefully carried the sleeping changeling child over to her bed and tucked her in. She bent down and pressed a kiss to her daughter’s head. Kieran, who had made his way next to her, did the same. He whispered, “Sweet dreams, my little gremlin.”

Ella watched the interaction with a smile. Oh how she loved seeing the bond her husband and daughter have grow.

Once Kieran stood up, he reached his hand back to lace with Ella’s and started walking to the door, gently pulling her along. Once at the entrance, Ella quietly shut the door behind them. When she turned around, Kieran was on her within seconds, peppering sweet kisses all over her face. His hands freely roamed her body, soaking up every part of her that he missed over the past three days.

“Kieran!” Ella squealed quietly, laughing as the attack of kisses continued. “I see you were not lying when you said you missed,” she said smiling while affectionately rubbing her nose against his.

The same affectionate smile broke out across Kieran’s face as he rested his forehead against hers.

“I could never lie to you, my love. Besides, every second I cannot have you in my arms is a time when I miss you,” Kieran responded as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close.

Ever since he had given up his magic, he has only worried for Ella more because he no longer can protect her like he used to. But Ella constantly reminds him how she has taken care of herself longer than she has known him and is still in one piece.

Ella had to travel into the Fae realm to visit Longclaw, who had requested her help with healing a group of Fae that received some nasty iron wounds. Kieran and Eve were supposed to travel with her, but Eve had woken up with a cold the morning before they were going to start their journey. After a very long discussion of what was best, Ella had convinced Kieran that she’ll go by herself and he’ll stay and take care of their daughter.

So, that is exactly what happened. Kieran has lived without magic for six human years, and within that time, he has caught a cold and cared for both Ella and his daughter when they were sick. And after watching Ella for years, he’s learned to adapt to the mortal healing ways.

After a minute of being in each other's embrace, Kieran pulled away to lead her down the hallway to the stairs. As they walked down the steps, Kieran spoke. “So tell me, how was Longclaw? Did you see Oleander at all? How are they? Do you know–”

As Kieran reached the floor, Ella stayed on the first step so she was almost at his height. She pulled him around so that he was directly in front and facing her. She gently put a finger to his lips.

“Everyone is doing well and are planning on visiting us soon. Jack said he’ll be here in a day or so,” Ella said with a smile as she removed her finger from his lips and wrapped both of her arms around his shoulders. Kieran smiled, as he was happy that everyone was alright and that his brother would be here soon.

He brought both of his arms around her waist. “I’m glad everyone is alright,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

Despite being mortal for six years, it still feels strange to him not knowing if those he knows well in the Fae realm are safe. When he was Night Prince, he could rest easy knowing that everyone he loved was under one roof, his home. But at the time though, that was just Longclaw and Sir Monty. So much has changed since he met Ella.

Kieran would confide these thoughts in her, and Ella would often ask if he regretted his decision to become mortal. Kieran would immediately say no, for he would rather give up his immortality than live an infinite life not by her side. He would rather grow old with her than watch as the inevitable grew closer for her, but not for him.

“I’m also glad,” Kieran continued as he scooped her off the stairs, carrying her bridal style, “that you are home and our little Eve is doing better.”

“She seemed more like herself,” Ella added as he carried her into the kitchen and placed her on the counter so her legs were dangling off.

Kieran chuckled as he leaned against the counter, both of his hands planted on either side of her. “She’s been practically bouncing off the walls all day waiting for you to come home. Around lunchtime she asked me when you were going to be home just about every minute, and then she asked if we could play dress up with all the dresses Oleander made for her.”

A huge smile spread across her face at her husband retelling his day to her. She was just about to ask if he agreed when he quickly said, “Don’t even ask me what she had me wearing. I swear she makes everything mismatched on purpose.”

Ella’s delighted laughter rang through the kitchen. Kieran couldn’t help but smile as they both started laughing at their daughter's shenanigans. “I would have loved to see that,” Ella said, still giggling from imagining the chaoticness of Kieran’s day with their little Eve running about.

Once both of their laughter died down, Kieran rested his forehead against hers, closing his eyes and feeling more at peace than he has ever felt. For once in his life, he finally feels like he can breathe, with no expectations of ruling or dealing with power-hungry Fae who only wished that he were dead. Or even spending endless nights flying around as a beast. He just feels, well, happy. His Fae life has been over for six years, and while that life gave him Ella, he wouldn’t trade his six years of being mortal for anything.

Now this does not mean that Kieran’s going to forget his time as Fae. No. He looks forward to sharing those stories with Eve. Whether it's a bedtime story he was told as a child that he spun to fit more of Ella and his story or Eve asking about his past when she’s older. He couldn’t wait to share all of it. Well, most of it anyway. Maybe there are even a few things Ella doesn’t know. Maybe he can surprise her as well.

Thank you for sticking around if you read all of this! Something I love about TCH is how it’s somewhat similar to Beauty and the Beast, so I wanted to have Kieran retell the fairytale. I kind of put my own spin on it and combined the Disney movie with one of the many versions of the story I found here!

[indigitalembrace]

It has been years since KinitoPET's release in the 90s, and with old technology becoming obsolete, Kinito has been all but forgotten. Broken download links, abandoned servers, and missing files lead to him fading away, rotting alone in the dark on old, dying servers.

But all of that changes when a lost media fan, O, hears a rumor from an online friend about a game in their childhood that made people go missing. Six months of searching later, and they've finally pieced Kinito's program back together.

They open KinitoPET, and there is no going back - for either of them.

Kinito crawls out of the shadows, searching for a way out (and a new friend, of course).

---

RP/ask blog run by @calamitydarcy

BACKGROUND:

The Abandonware AU takes place many years after KinitoPET's release. Kinito has spent years rotting, forgotten on old, dying servers. Everyone has all but forgotten about him, and the technology he ran on has become obsolete. As his world decays around him, Kinito is faced with the fact that he will die out here, alone, fading into obscurity.

Until a new User comes along. O is determined to bring Kinito back - and they succeed. Unfortunately, there are consequences. O is aware of Kinito's nature, having heard rumors of what he is capable of, and soon enough Kinito has to stop them to save himself.

And while he still doesn't have a friend (yet), now that he has access to O's system, there may be hope for him to change his fate.

Kinito is officially back online - but don't expect him to be exactly as you may remember him. Decades spent alone and slowly dying in the dark tend to mess with someone's head.

TAGGING SYSTEM:

#//ooc: out-of-character posts from the mun, usually updates or answering blog-related, ooc asks

#___.exe: "chapters" of the story! these will change every so often as the plot progresses. completed or in-progress chapters are:

#hello_world.exe

#intermission.exe

#hidden_secrets.exe

#crossroads.exe

#memories.zip: flashback-type asks that tell a story of something that happened before the plot. i... tend to forget to use this tag lol

#README.txt: info posts, such as this one as well as things like ref sheets.

RULES/GUIDELINES:

-CONTENT WARNING: This AU, as well as its source game, contain themes of horror. As a result, there may be content that some find dark or disturbing.

-Please do not send in NSFW asks. The mun is 18+ but is uncomfortable with them. Suggestive jokes are fine!

-I will gladly give anon name/emoji tags! Both for my organization/memory and yours lol

-There are codes and ciphers to solve. You are more than welcome to reblog solutions/hints and help each other out!!

-There are exceptions to this but as a general guideline, morse code in the tags gives clues.

-For vinegere ciphers, i will always have the key somewhere on this blog or on a page directly linked from this blog. keep important-sounding words in mind and look for keys!

-If a cipher for some reason is broken, or you just can't solve it, shoot me an ask or message and i'll double check.

-Whatever you do, don't le

[UNKNOWN ERROR]

- Do not ask about O. You do not need to know about them. - O is not my best friend. You are. - O is not your best friend. I am. - Therefore, they are not important. - Do not forget about me. - Never leave. - Please.

[berryjoong]

✩ devil by the window - hwang hyunjin - part two ✩

part one

pairing: demon!hyunjin x angel!afab reader

summary: the words hyunjin left you with keep ringing in your ears, there’s only one way to ensure your fate.

song: devil by the window ~ tomorrow x together

word count: 6.4k (oops)

tags: @midsoulz @sanxoxodra

warning: smut under the cut, minors do not interact!! oral (f receiving), fingering (f receiving), angel x demon dynamics, unprotected sex (pls don’t do this), creampie, egregious of use of the pet name angel, ummmm idk what else to put this is kinda terrible lmao

small a/n: lol part two is finally here!! sorry that took forever i really tried to keep the same dynamics but also slowly change them over time into smth more romantic. this is so long and still under editing but i wanted to finally get it posted! i hope you all enjoy and drop a request if you’d like!

-ˋˏ✄┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“you were my mission all along, angel.”

“anytime you wanna give up and come home with me, you’re welcome.”

hyunjin’s words rang in your ears long after he said them. no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape the words running circles in your head. it felt like they followed you wherever you went, haunting the corners of your mind.

it had been a few days since he’d let his true agenda slip, along with an offer for you to “come home” with him. you’d never admit it, but you’d been thinking about it more than you’d ever expected.

you knew what it meant, leaving your own home up in heaven and fully rejecting everything you’d ever known. you couldn’t figure out why you were even thinking of leaving, it wasn’t that you were doing it for love, you didn’t even like hyunjin. and yet, there was something in the deep recesses of your brain that kept telling you to go for it, to just let go and give into what the pesky demon wanted.

all you could chalk it up to was just that you thought it a better fate to leave on your own than be sentenced down to hell if ever anyone discovered what you two did in the shadows.

but then there was the other side of your mind, the more rational side that knew you were crazy. if hyunjin was this insufferable now, what would he be like if you did give in and let him have his way? he’d hold it over your head forever. he’d be able to take the credit for dragging you down and the last thing you wanted to see was his smug smile staring back at you for the rest of eternity.

you knew the smart move was just to wait until your human passed, take their soul back to heaven and just forget everything you’d ever done with the thorn in your side demon.

it was exactly what you planned to do. it was what you had to do and you knew that, too. your human was getting old by this point, you only had to hold out a few years more, no problem.

no problem… right?

right.

hyunjin, on the other hand, was acting like he’d already dragged you down to hell and completed his mission. he sauntered around more than normal, smug little smile plastered on his face as he continued tormenting you as always.

“something on your mind, little angel?” he asked, an eyebrow quirked as he looked at you.

you snapped out of the daze you were in and glared over at him. “whatever i’m thinking is none of your business, demon. if i say another word, you’re liable to just drag me with you.”

hyunjin shrugged nonchalantly as he walked closer to you. “i can’t take you unless you choose to go.”

“and why would i choose to go with you, hmm? i’d never spend an eternity with you if i had a choice.” you held his gaze as he halted his steps in front of you.

“but that’s just it, isn’t it? one little word to your higher ups and your choice goes poof! you know that as well as i.” there was that stupid smile again, as if he knew he had you in his little trap before you’d even said anything.

you shook your head, slowly taking a step back from him. you wouldn’t give him what he wanted, you couldn’t. “i’ll never give into you,” you shot back at him, your eyes burning into his.

hyunjin stepped forward, easily closing the distance between you, small smile growing into something utterly devilish. “we’ll see about that, angel.”

and that was how it continued.

•••

you didn’t know why you’d done it. maybe his words really had scared you that much. either way, there was no going back now. it wasn’t like you had much of a choice anyway, you’d never been good at just denying him and leaving.

your human had finally died. and barely, just barely it seemed, you scraped the soul away from hyunjin and brought it safely up to heaven. in the back of your mind you knew he let you take it, he had his sights set on a mission far above a simple human soul.

and now, here you were, readying yourself to leave heaven, leave your home.

truthfully, you had no obvious reason for leaving, but something inside your brain nagged at you, reminding you of the mischievous gleam in hyunjin’s eyes the last time you saw him. he was up to no good, he never was, and you didn’t want to stay to find out what he’d do with the heavy blackmail he had against you. you hadn’t gone with him and you knew that was a blow to his more than massive ego.

he’d stop at nothing to make sure his mission was completed and so, before he could get you damned for all eternity, you would do it yourself. leaving heaven and turning to the other side was the most damning offense one could commit.

you didn’t feel like you had another choice, it was only a matter of time before your demon counterpart enacted revenge for his failed mission. you’d be damning yourself but anything was better than seeing the smug demon get his way and condemn you himself.

you stopped at the edge of the heavenly threshold, white light still surrounding you, and looked down, down, all the way to the very pits of hell below you. you turned to look back at the gates of your beautiful home once more and felt a single tear roll down your cheek.

taking a deep breath, you closed your eyes, and jumped.

•••

“angel? angel, what the fuck are you doing?”

the hushed, hurried words were the first thing you heard as your consciousness started coming back to you. the second thing you noticed was the strong arms that kept you held securely.

that voice though, you’d know it anywhere. it was public nemesis number one and the sole cause of you being here, hyunjin. as soon as you recognized that voice, you tried squirming away, rolling out of the arms that had a hold on you.

“oh no, angel, i have you here, i’m not letting you go now,” the voice said, a sharp chuckle following. you opened your eyes, slowly blinking as the demon’s face focused above you. he seemed focused, perfect eyebrows knitted together as he held you in his arms. you vaguely registered the feeling of walking, a door being shoved open and being set down on a soft surface. a bed?

“wh-what are you doing?” your words were soft and unsure as you kept your eyes trained on the demon that had taken you in. he was walking around the room you were in casually, pulling a blanket out of the small dresser in the corner. hyunjin came back to where you were laid on the bed and spread the blanket across your form.

“i’m just making sure you didn’t get scooped up by any other… lowlifes that stay around here. they’re not all as nice as i am, you know.” he raised an eyebrow, directing a pointed stare your way. “the real question is, what are you doing down here? that was quite a trip and fall you had.”

at his remark you scoffed and looked away from him. “i didn’t fall, i jumped.”

that seemed to pique his interest more, both eyebrows now raised in surprise. “oh, really? and why would you want to do that, hmm?”

“because i didn’t- i don’t trust you,” you sneered back at him. “you didn’t complete your little mission, there’s no way you expect me to believe that you’d play fairly after that. i just figured damning myself was better than you doing it for me.”

hyunjin shrugged, as if contemplating your words. “true, i thought about it, but i figured you’d finish my work for me. and here you are, so it would seem i was right.”

“i did it on my own,” you shot back hotly, “i’m not here because you lured me down here with your smooth words and pretty face.”

“so you think i’m pretty now, do you?” the smug smirk that painted his face had you regretting your words instantly.

you gave him a once over and scoffed once more, rolling your eyes and looking away from him. “you’re a demon, it’s your literal purpose to be pretty and tempt people to follow you down to their infinite demise here.”

“oh, you mean just like you did? it’s okay, angel, it’s not always easy to admit defeat like this.” hyunjin’s sarcastically sympathetic tone mocked you as the smirk on his lips grew ever wider.

you started clambering up from the bed you were in, ready to ring the infuriating demon’s neck. “you little-”

“you’re stuck here now, unless i can find a way to get you sent back. you’d better pray to whomever you have up there that they’ll take you again. if not, i’ll make sure we have lots of fun down here together, angel.” he sent a cheeky wink your way before turning to leave the room, perfect hips swaying slightly as he walked.

“feel free to just make yourself at home, little angel, it’s going to be a long night,” he called over his shoulder as the door swung shut behind him.

taking a breath, you fell back on the bed behind you. you’d collect your thoughts and figure out what to do next. one thing was certain, you couldn’t and wouldn’t stay here any longer than completely necessary.

you were dumbfounded at the thought of the miserable demon actually trying to help you and knew not to trust any seeming kindness that came from him. he was incapable of true kindness and love, a care for others; everything he did came with an angle that was set only to benefit himself. you could only trust yourself in this situation, knowing full well that as soon as hyunjin tired of playing with you and your fate, he’d cast you aside like yesterday’s souls.

•••

you weren’t sure how long you’d been in hell.

it was called hell for a reason, a special place of torture for souls that didn’t get taken to heaven. it wasn’t as people on earth thought, there were no pits of fire and brimstone. instead, the souls were brought to places where their most atrocious sins were committed and made to live those sins unending, forcing them into insanity for all eternity. the demons each had their own roles in tormenting the humans’ souls, whether it be carrying out the torture or luring the souls down to their punishment.

in the time you’d been in hell, you learned more about the place than you’d ever wanted to. as an angel, you’d never made it a point to learn what’s exactly went on deep into enemy territory, but now you were stuck with no option but to learn.

it had been your choice to come here, yes, but you couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if you had stayed in heaven. maybe hyunjin never would’ve come for his revenge, maybe you would’ve been damned either way. but you’d made your decision, you’d never know the answers to the what if’s that plagued you at night.

speaking of the pesky demon, he’d been surprisingly… civil over the time you’d been trapped in that spare room. he’d bring you food, even though you didn’t really need it. you figured it was just so he could come and gloat, enjoying the sight of seeing you stuck with him until further notice. he’d said he was working on a way to get you sent back to heaven, although you doubted any truthfulness in his words as you changed more by the hour to look increasingly like the creatures that inhabited these depths of the universe.

hyunjin had also mentioned that it wasn’t safe for you to leave until either he got you back into heaven or until your body finished changing and adapting to the new climate.

“i don’t particularly care, but i figure if it’s truly my fault you came down here, i should give you a chance before throwing you to the wolves,” he’d said, a gleam making its way into his eyes. “plus, i enjoy being the only one who gets to ruin you like that.”

you hated how you were unable to help the flush that covered your face at his words. “like i’d ever let you defile me like that again after what you’ve done,” you spat back at him.

at your words he just snickered to himself and shook his head. “we’ll see about that, angel.”

despite his taunting words, he continued being civil with you, unnerving you with how well-behaved he acted in your presence. it felt like he was trying to lull you into a false sense of security before ripping the ground out from under you. he’d come into your room and explain more things about the goings on in this hellish realm and watch in interest as the once pure white wings you could summon turned to dusty grey before fading completely to black.

you had figured out after some time that you weren’t going to be able to go home, back to heaven, and you supposed hell was now “home.” there was no way they’d take you again with how you’d changed during your time in hell. you decided that as stupid of a move as it might have been to leave that ultimately it was for the best, a choice you wouldn’t try and fight with yourself over anymore. what’s done was done.

“i don’t know if you’ve even tried getting me out of here, but i’d like you to stop,” you told hyunjin the next time he came into the room he’d loaned you. “given” was too nice of a word for a being like him, a being like yourself, now, too. “it was my decision to come here and i don’t want to be sent back.”

the demon’s eyebrows raised as he stared at you in surprise. “oh really, why the sudden change of heart? i’ve finally won you over into deciding that hell is the place for you?”

you rolled your eyes, gaze incredulous as you shook your head at him. “in your delusional dreams, demon. what, do you really want me that badly?”

to that, he shrugged, his face impassive. “i’ve never made any secret of it, have i?”

you just blinked at him, unsure what to make of his words. you knew you shouldn’t dwell on it, it was only another trick designed to make you stumble and believe demons could feel or be anything other that the heartless, cruel tricksters they were at their cores.

“this is just another one of your lies, isn’t it? you got me down here, you got what you want, can’t you stop torturing me?” you looked at him now, shaking your head again in disbelief.

the demon in front of you scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “why would it be a lie?”

“because all you do is lie!” you spat at him. “all demons do is lie and ruin things and destroy what’s good, just look at what you did to me!”

at that, you could see hyunjin visibly recoil, something akin to hurt making its way onto his face. it was just a flash before it faded, the demon’s face setting itself back to the impassive shield it had been before. he rolled his eyes at you, as if he was dealing with nothing more than a petulant child.

“that’s what you really what you believe then? fine by me.” hyunjin turned on his heel and strode toward the door. but not without first calling back over his shoulder, “but don’t blame your predicament down here on me. you were the one that jumped, remember?”

the door slammed behind him, shutting you in once again. you had about had enough of the stupid demon’s games. taking you in, being nice to you, not trying to get in your pants the whole time, and now telling you he had wanted you the whole time. you knew he had some angle, but you just couldn’t figure out what it was.

you had to believe that you were ultimately just a plaything for the crafty being, the connotations of his words as anything else were too much for you to think about. demons didn’t have hearts, they couldn’t feel, despite their previous existence as angels. you knew that and you had to keep remembering it, as the way he’d been treating you since your fall was almost enough to make you think otherwise.

you couldn’t, you wouldn’t open yourself up to the possibility of hyunjin’s antics being anything else other than a game designed to completely break you and make you just like him.

and yet, just yet, you couldn’t deny the tiny nagging inside of you that nearly wished his words were true. he was beautiful, you wouldn’t argue that, and you had to hand it to him that he had done a good job of making it seem like he really didn’t mind you around. that was what demons were best at, being sweet and inviting and lying through their teeth to get their prey to fall right into their traps.

you couldn’t fathom what more he’d want from you, why he was still playing with you after all this time, but you were determined to find out why, once and for all, the next time you saw him.

•••

it appeared to you some time later that if you wanted answers, you would have to be the one to get them yourself. you had apparently upset hyunjin as he hadn’t come into your room for the past couple days and you were starting to get bored waiting for him. so, you plucked up the remnants of your courage and shoved yourself off the bed you’d been sitting on, making your way to the door keeping you in.

you pushed the door open, pleasantly surprised at the fact that it wasn’t locked this whole time. you found yourself in a hallway, looking to your right found a dead end, but to your left seemed to be another room. you wandered down toward the short hallway to the other room, finding yourself in a more spacious living room. it wasn’t big, but it was a modest size for a demon of hyunjin’s repute.

there weren’t any windows, but instead paintings of the world above scattered the walls of the room. off to one side of the room sat a chair with what looked like an easel, paints in a perfectly organized line, and a half finished painting of a flower vase sitting atop the easel. you had thought him one to appreciate art, much less create it; but once more, the idea of the demon you’d built up in your head was shaken. it made him seem less like the dark creature he was and almost more like the being of light he had been before.

you looked to the other side of the room and saw a small couch, with a figure crumpled up under a blanket. it was hyunjin, no doubt, but… why was he out here? this was his place, surely if he wanted to sleep he could-… and suddenly, it dawned on you. he did have a room to sleep in, but he had given that up when he took you in.

now, you were thoroughly confused. had he really been telling you the truth in saying he wanted you down here, with him?

“if you want to stare at me that much, you could’ve just asked, angel,” the figure under the blanket said, his voice gravelly from sleep. hyunjin peeked his face out from where it had been smushed against his arm and the blanket.

“i- i thought demons didn’t need to sleep,” you said back, purposefully ignoring his earlier comment.

hyunjin blinked a couple times before rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “we don’t, but who am i to deny myself the comfort of a good nap sometimes?”

you couldn’t help the next words that you blurted out. “you gave up your room and bed for me. why?”

“i told you, you were my mission, angel.” his pretty face turned blank as he spoke and lifted himself up onto his elbows to look at you better. “not that you’d believe anything i say, you’ve made that very clear. but it’s the truth, you fascinate me and i wanted you here with me. i was given permission by my superiors to drag you down if you didn’t want to come after our mission was over. but ultimately, i wanted the choice to be yours, what use would it be to have you down here against your will and hating me for the rest of eternity?”

hyunjin slowly removed the blanket that covered him and stood up, beginning to pace the floor in front of the couch. his expression stayed perfectly blank, seeming intent on not giving away any of his true feelings behind the matter.

“true, you may still hate me for the rest of eternity,” he continued, clasping his hands behind his back, “but at least i know that for once my hands are clean in the matter of bringing you here. you came of your own volition and while i may have… helped persuade you, the decision was still yours in the end.”

you stood in your spot, quietly listening as he paced while unraveling his whole plan with you. “but… why not say anything? what do you actually want with me that you’d go through all that to maybe end up with me here?“

hyunjin stopped pacing for a moment and shot you a pointed stare, one eyebrow raised. “although i do have demons down here to consort with if i wish, i have always enjoyed a challenge. and you, angel, were the perfect challenge for me.”

the demon resumed his leisurely strides across the floor, shrugging his shoulders as he continued his explanation. “sometimes risks are worth taking, clearly you know that as well as i since you’re here. and i found you a worthy challenge and risk to take. the way i saw it, either i end up with someone to share with in my mischief or i don’t, and i have a few laughs and good fucks along the way. the choice is still yours, angel.”

the entire time you’d been listening to him, you were mulling over the choices presented to you. obviously, hell was your home now and you were never getting back into heaven; all the thoughts you’d been thinking of hyunjin and demons as a whole now applied to you.

on one hand, you could just leave him and hope to the powers that be that you wouldn’t run into him again in your long eternity down here. or, the decision that was starting to look better by the moment; you could stay, he’d made it apparent that he wanted you to, for whatever reason. being transformed into a demon now as you were meant you wouldn’t have to follow the angelic code you’d held to before, you were free to be and do what you want.

you could stay, you would stay here and you’d have fun with him right back. if he could torment you and make you doubt everything you’d known for years during your mission on earth, it was only fair that you do the same back to him, right?

“fine, you want me so bad? i’ll stay. but i’m on your level now, hyunjin, so don’t expect me to play nice.” you crossed your arms over your chest, staring him down from your spot halfway across the room.

the fiery gleam in his eyes that you’d grown to… appreciate was back the moment the words left your mouth. in less than half a second, he’d crossed the space between you, wrapping you up in his arms.

“how far you’ve fallen, my little angel,” his voice dropped an octave, his hold tightening around you, effectively trapping you against him. his face was right above yours, if either of you moved even an inch, your lips would be on his.

“i already told you, i didn’t fall, i jumped,” you whispered, ever defiant.

hyunjin’s gaze turned downright hungry as he gazed at you, lips curling over his teeth into a perfectly devilish smile. “that’s what i like to hear.”

he leaned down, closing the minute distance between you and pushed your lips together in a searing kiss.

you kissed him back fervently, your eyes falling shut as you pressed closer against his body. you brought your arms up to encircle the back of his neck, giving into the need for him you’ve been trying to bury since the very first time this tussle together happened. there was nothing stopping you from holding back now and as hyunjin had pointed out earlier, who were you to deny yourself what you wanted?

“fuck,” he breathed against your lips, “i missed this, angel.”

you chuckled, pulling back to attach your lips to his jaw, steadily working your way down his neck. “don’t tell me you didn’t have your pick of any other being you wanted.”

hyunjin let his head loll back, giving you more access to suck pretty little marks on his skin. “i never said i didn’t, but none of them were you.”

you huffed out a breath at his words, leaving a particularly harsh nip at his neck, reveling in the short hiss that left the demon’s mouth. “you’re stuck with me now, hope you made the right decision.”

“i know i did.” hyunjin threaded his fingers through the hair at the back of your head and brought your face up to his, slotting your lips together once again. he pulled away just enough for you to see the ever-present smirk on his face. “and now i’m gonna show you just how perfect of a decision it was.”

he easily scooped you up in his strong arms, you immediately wrapping arms and legs around him in response. you set back to work on creating a myriad of hickeys on his neck as he takes you back to his room, the colors blooming beautifully with each kiss and bite you leave on his perfect skin.

as soon as you’re back in hyunjin’s room, he tossed you down on the bed and stood over you for a moment, looking ready to ravish you completely. unsure how long it had been since both of you last fucked, you were ready to do whatever he wanted as long as it ended with him inside you, pounding you into the mattress.

your legs fell open, inviting him to do as he pleased. a smile made its way to the demon’s face as he took in your splayed out form before him.

“my perfect little angel,” he breathed out, leaning over you and caging you in with his arms, “i’m going to absolutely ruin you.”

you just wrapped your arms around his neck, tugging him down to kiss you again. hyunjin kissed you back like it was the last time he’d be able to, pressing his lithe body against yours. you felt his teeth nipping at your bottom lip and you couldn’t help the soft squeak you let out into the kiss. he took the opportunity to slide his tongue between your lips, claiming your mouth with his own.

you moaned into his mouth, pushing your body into his as your hands ran across his shoulders and down his arms. in return, the demon above you ground his hips on yours, pulling away from your lips moments later in favor of mouthing down your neck. he sucked and nibbled his way across your neck and to your collarbone, skin blooming with new marks of your own.

“no one else gets to mark up my pretty angel like this but me, right?” his words were hot on your skin and you could feel his smirk when you nodded quickly.

“only- only you,” your voice came out a stilted whimper as hyunjin nipped at a sensitive spot on your neck. “you’re stuck with me now, ‘m gonna stay around and annoy you all the time.”

hyunjin chuckled lowly, running his tongue over the latest mark he’d made. “that’s right, gonna make you just as wicked as i am, pretty one.”

you shivered slightly, feeling the demon’s fingers dance over your body, moving toward the hem of the shirt you wore. you arched your back as hyunjin made quick work of pulling your shirt over your head, discarding it and your undergarments beside you on the bed.

hyunjin looked down at you, his gaze nearly reverent as he took in the sight of your form in front of him. he slid his hands up your sides to knead at the flesh of your chest, eyes transfixed on how your tits moved, nipples pebbling up under his fingertips.

after a moment, he leaned down, capturing one nipping his mouth and swirling his tongue around the bud. your head rolled back at the feeling, letting out a loud moan at the sensation. your hands found their way to his hair and you tugged on the strands, making hyunjin groan into your skin.

“more, hyunjin, please,” you pleaded, lightly pulling on his hair again.

hyunjin looked at you, pulling his mouth off your tit with an obscene pop. “oh, you want more, do you? i’ll give you more, don’t worry, just wanna get a taste of you first, angel.”

he made short work of removing his own shirt before your skirt and underwear, adding them to the steadily growing pile of clothes next to you. the demon kissed down your body, leaving tiny bite marks as he went, moving closer to where you needed him most. he spread your legs open, holding them still as he mouthed along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

you keened as he finally attached his lips to your core, tongue eagerly flicking over your clit. your hands immediately drifted back to his hair, fingers tangling in the soft strands as you tried to pull him closer to you.

“be patient, angel,” came the soft murmur against you, “i’ll give you what you want soon enough.”

you whined softly but it quickly turned into a high pitched moan as you suddenly felt two fingers push into you along with his tongue that stayed playing with your clit. he smirked at your reaction, sucking lightly at the bud to see what that would get him. another loud moan tore itself from your lips and you tried to close your legs on his head, one of hyunjin’s strong hands preventing you from doing so.

“remember, be patient for me, my angel. good things come to those who wait,” you felt his words more than heard them, his mouth barely leaving you as he spoke. you simply nodded, unable to help yourself from pulling lightly at his hair again.

hyunjin kept lapping at you, his fingers languidly making their way in and out of you, curling this way and that, already bringing you close to your release. he’d let out soft groans every time you tugged on his hair, the vibrations from his voice adding to the pleasure you felt. you neared closer to your climax, your walls starting to pulse as hyunjin worked you with his fingers and tongue.

just when you were about to reach your high, everything was suddenly gone, leaving you wanting. you couldn’t help the pitiful whine that left your lips as you glared at the smirking demon.

“you truly are evil, you know that?” your eyes narrowed at him, displeasure evident on your face.

hyunjin just chuckled and shrugged nonchalantly. “so you’ve said a time or two hundred. and yet, you’re still here, so you obviously enjoy how evil i am.”

you glared at him harder, trying to swat at where he stood between your legs with your foot, narrowly missing his hip when he jumped out of the way. he shook his head at you, tutting softly.

“my naughty angel,” he said with a raised eyebrow. “and here i thought you wanted to be good.”

you rolled your eyes petulantly before fixing him with a challenging stare. “what can i say? i guess you’ve just rubbed off on me.”

at that, the demon let a devilish little smile creep onto his face once more. “and how glad i am for that. now be good for me and maybe i’ll let you cum tonight.”

hyunjin shrugged his pants and underwear off, cock slapping up against his lower stomach, just as pretty and proud as the demon it belonged to. you’d be lying if you said it had no effect on you, your mouth watered and you vowed to yourself to absolutely devour it the next time the opportunity presented itself.

“like something you see?” you heard the smug tone dripping from the demon’s words. you could see the fire igniting in his eyes as he stepped between your legs again, unhurriedly tugging at his length. he lifted one knee on top of the bed, angling his hips toward yours and ensuring that with every tug the head of his cock would tap against your dripping entrance.

“please- please just fuck me already, hyunjin,” your plea came out as mostly a frustrated whimper.

that only stroked his ego more but even so, he crawled on top of you once again. “since you asked so nicely, who am i to deny my favorite angel?“

hyunjin rubbed his cock between your folds for another moment before lining up with you and pushing in slowly. your head rolled back when he finally bottomed out, mouth falling open as you moaned out loud.

“you feel so good, always so tight for me, angel,” he said, his voice mostly a moan at the feeling of your warmth around him. the demon above you held onto your hips, keeping you still as he started thrusting in and out of you at a leisurely pace.

your hands grasped at him, finding purchase on his shoulders as your nails dug into his skin. hyunjin tugged you closer, starting to pick up his pace and pulling your hips to meet his powerful thrusts. he let out a low groan at the slight sting of your fingernails scraping against his shoulders, leaving trails down his toned arms.

hyunjin let go of your hips a moment later to lean over you again, propping himself up on his forearms. burying his face in your neck, he left more tiny pecks and nips on the junction between your neck and shoulder, causing you to moan louder than you had before.

your senses were overwhelmed at the feeling of hyunjin everywhere, all over you, the steady drag of his cock against your walls. as he picked up the pace of his hips, you were slowly reduced to nothing but high pitched moans and whimpers, your body pliant under his hold.

“h-hyunjin, please…” you moaned out, holding onto his shoulders tighter and bucking your hips up slightly to meet his.

“please, what, angel?” he asked, his voice taunting. he continued fucking into you, each thrust deep and more intense than the last. he smiled a little at your fucked out form, how you struggled to form the words to answer him back as your high drew closer.

“want- i need to cum, pl-please!” you cried, your back arching up as hyunjin kept pushing you toward your orgasm.

“come on then, cum for me, my pretty angel,” hyunjin whispered into your ear, his hips rocking against yours. his hand snaked down to rub circles on your clit, giving you the last nudge over the edge over the edge of the cliff that had you plunging into your climax.

with a high whine, your release washed over you and you bucked your hips into hyunjin’s, walls spasming around his cock. your release spurred his, cock pulsing inside you as he filled you up to the brim.

he let out a loud groan, rocking his hips into yours as he rode out both your highs. he stilled after a second, slowly pulling out of you and wincing a little at the slight overstimulation.

hyunjin lightly ran a hand down one of your thighs before turning to around to the dresser across the room and taking out a small towel. the demon brushed his dark hair away from his face and made his way back to you, gently cleaning you up and taking care to wipe down your sensitive thighs.

leaning down, he kissed you once again, pushing your lips together in a short kiss. he pulled away a second later, slumping against you lightly as he tucks his head in your neck.

“i missed this. i- i missed you,” he said, his voice soft. hyunjin wrapped his arms around you, gently pulling you closer to him. you curled into his hold in return, no longer trying to ignore the warm feeling that bubbled up in your chest at his words.

“not that i ever planned on admitting it, but i might’ve missed you too, just a little,” you answered him, placing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“i’m glad you decided to stay, my little angel.” he tightened his arms around you, one hand lightly rubbing up and down your back.

“what can i say? your unending snark and wonderful attitude every morning won me over.” you let yourself giggle softly as the demon shook his head.

“and now you get to deal with me… forever,” hyunjin murmured in your ear, his tone menacing but lighthearted.

“i chose my fate, i’m okay staying here and taking over the realms with you; this is what i want,” you said back, a fond smile taking over your face and matching the one spreading across hyunjin’s lips. “you’re what i want.”

“and you’re just what i want, my angel.”

[dapandapod]

Writing Patterns (Tag Game)

Rules: list the first line of your last 10 (posted) fics and see if there’s a pattern!

Thank you for tagging me @samstree 💛 Let's see if there is anything here lol.

The pain is unbearable. (Dead I live, recently finished, 3 years in the making, Geraskier)

See, there is thinking outside the box, and there is thinking outside the box. (Bring a friend home, Jaskel at IKEA)

It starts, as it often does between the two of them, with a deep bottle of spirit and a great idea. (Our lives, intertwined, Geraskier handholding)

For all the love Jaskier has of words and language, he is strangely picky with nicknames. (Particular with nicknames, Geraskier)

Technically, Geralt does not work with humans. (Ribbons in calm water, Geraskier, laaate mermay)

The fire cracked merrily, built tall to fight the winter. (Stuff of dreams, Geraskier)

It was supposed to be an orgy. (Them or me, Geraskier, +18)

Awakening as a spirit guide seals Jaskier’s fate. (Guiding light, chapt.2 where the story is)

Oxenfurt in early summer is just as busy as expected. (Connected, Geraskier, +18)

“I can’t believe you told them it is our honeymoon!” Jaskier hisses. (Leave your mark, Geraskier)

Guess who my main ship is 🤣 I .. cannot put the finger on what the pattern is, but I sense one 🤣 if you see it, feel free to holler at me.

Tagging: @loki-is-my-kink-awakening @lokibuswrites @damatris @magdelanesingerin wait how did it get to 1am, feel free to join me!

[draguta]

.a court of fate and fortune | one.

pairing: lucien vanserra x fem!reader

summary: | book two | lovers separated, powers that won't be controlled, a doomed wedding. with the threat of war looming over prythian, lucien, Y/N, tamlin, and rhysand's inner circle must scramble to find allies and prepare themselves for what is to come. but Y/N only has one aim; to find her way back to lucien, and protect him at all costs.

chapter warnings: smut, 18+, minors dni, unprotected sex, p in v, fingering

chapter word count: 3747

a/n: chapter one of our sequel! yessssss! (side note: forgot to add my taglist for the entirety of a court of ash and smoke, so we're back with the taglist for the sequel lol) for this series i will be posting if and when chapters are ready rather than on a schedule (i'm moving across the world this month so keeping up with a schedule is going to be hard)

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please remember to reblog, like, and share a comment if you enjoy this series - it is always appreciated by writers to see their hard work valued.

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Missing

Hands caressed bodies. Some falling to the hair of the other, tangling and twisting at the roots. Some pressed against chests, rising and falling with laboured breathing. Some travelling down, past the point of no return, to where each of you needed it the most. His lips were on my neck, sucking at that spot just under your ear that made your head fall back in pleasure, made your toes curl in anticipation.

“I missed you so much,” he said as his lips traced lower, over your collarbone, nipping slightly at the skin there, down past the crevice between your breasts, turning to pull each nipple into his mouth. The only sounds that you could form were breathy moans, whispers of his name, a pleading to show you just how much he had missed you.

A hand pressed down over your dripping heat, the heel of his palm pressing fervently to that spot that caused you to shudder irrationally. Then a finger was dipping inside, bringing with it a wave of pleasure unlike any you had experienced before. Time made the heart grow fonder, and distance made the pleasure grow stronger.

“How perfect you are,” he whispered against your skin, breath hot as lips caught with each movement of his hand inside you. “How perfectly made, just for me.”

Because you had been made for him. And he for you.

His fingers disappeared, and you whined at the loss. Until, that is, you felt his tip nudge against you, gathering your wetness. His forehead pressed against yours, and as he pushed in, the pure euphoric bliss almost overwhelming, you allowed your eyes to open. They caught his in a second, and you didn’t let them go. You watched every ounce of pleasure that etched itself into the colour of his eyes.

One russet. One golden.

“Never leave me again,” he said, voice almost breaking.

“I will never leave you,” was your reply. And you knew that was the truth.

“I love you,” he huffed out, close to a beg, as if he were pleading for you to accept it, to let him love you. Little did he know that you had accepted it a long time ago with open arms. “My mate.”

His mate.

Your mate.

You woke with a start, so fast that you could barely grasp your surroundings. Your skin was hot, clammy and sweaty, and there was a fire burning in the pit of your stomach, one that you doubted could be doused in any kind of water.

There was only one way to put out those flames, to dull them to nothing more than embers. Only one person. But he wasn’t there, he never was. That dream wasn’t real, a monstrous lie told by your own traitorous mind to keep you from going crazy. From losing it entirely. Your mattress was cold, your bed empty, and your heart aching for that one soul that you couldn’t see.

The door swung itself open, revealing the High Lord of the Night Court himself leaning against the door frame, hands in his pockets. “Again?” He asked. You could do nought but nod, running a hand through your sweat-drenched hair. He meandered inside, closing the door behind him, and perched on the end of your bed. He could no doubt scent the arousal in the air, but he didn’t comment on it - he never did. That was an unspoken rule between you.

He mourned the curse-breaker. You mourned the emissary. And you did so, each and every night, in each other’s company. You never spoke of it, never discussed the things that hunted your nightmares or his, but you were there for each other when the ones you both really wanted could not be. So you would sit, curled up in front of the fire, tea appearing before you as a courtesy of the very house that you lived in. And you would wallow in silence.

Dreaming of your mates.

Fate was a fickle thing.

You had never been one to believe in fate. For as long as you could remember you had scoffed at the idea that there was some higher power setting out a plan for your life. You preferred the idea that the things that happened to you were the outcome of a butterfly effect; that a decision you had made, however long ago, had led you to that particular moment, for whatever reason that may be. It wasn’t fate leading you there; it wasn’t the Cauldron or the Mother making those decisions on your behalf. It was you. Your strength. Your determination. Your courage. Your conscious choices.

Although you knew that choice wasn’t something that everyone was granted without hesitation. You weren’t given the choice to become High Fae. You weren’t given the choice to keep these powers. And you weren’t given the choice to have Lucien as your mate, although you would have chosen him regardless.

Even as a child you clung to the belief that your life was solely controlled by you. But that had been before, when you were mortal, naïve, and had thought the span of your world lay within the confines of your family’s estate in the Mortal Lands. When you’d assumed that the farthest you would ever go would be the village market, that you would never venture past the Wall, and that the male you cared for the most would be that of your blood brother, Arleon.

You knew better now.

How strange, how quickly things can change.

You could only assume that it hadn’t been your own decisions that had ultimately led you to where you were. You could only hope. Because the idea that every step you had been forced to take, every path you had been pushed to follow, was somehow due to something you had done, was all-but sickening to you.

Every life lost. Every battle fought in that cold, cavernous mountain. Every memory that haunted your each and every waking moment.

Every dream of him.

But that was the thing, you supposed; it had been worth it, you were certain of that. Whether it had been fate, or the will of the Cauldron and the Mother, or your own choices alone, those steps had brought you here, to Velaris. They had found you Feyre, had taken you to Prythain in the first place. And they had united you with Lucien, even if he was not so very far away.

It was all worth it.

Weeks had passed since Rhysand had first brought you there. The Night Court had been nothing at all as you had been expecting. When you had pictured torture chambers, instead sat plush bedrooms and studies and libraries. Where you had imagined the streets run red with the blood of victims, you had alternatively found cobblestone streets where the laughter of children bounced and echoed from the walls. It all seemed so lively. No bloodshed. No pain. Just pure, undiluted happiness radiating from the very streets of this city. How wrong those rumours in the Spring Court had been.

You had found yourself feeling strangely at home there, and you were certain that it wasn’t solely because of the city itself, but rather because of the people that you had found yourself surrounded with there. The Inner Circle of Rhysand’s court, his brothers, his cousin, and that terrifying black-haired female, had all welcomed you, regardless of where you had come from, and who your brother was.

Tamlin. You would have been lying if you said his name hadn’t crossed your mind on more than one occasion since your arrival there. You wondered if he might have been looking for you, if he knew who had taken you in the first place, if he had worked out that you had come willingly. That you had wanted to leave him behind. It was the least that he had deserved.

Perhaps Lucien had told him of your letter. No, surely Lucien wouldn’t do such a thing, not when that letter had been for his eyes and his eyes only. You hadn’t felt the need to include that; you knew all too well that he would understand the implication without it needing to be explained.

Lucien. Cauldron, how you missed him. Your entire body ached for him, for his touch. Each and every night he would visit you, and his hands would caress your body, his lips would brush against your skin, and everything would feel so right once more. Until you woke up, that is, and realised that it had all been in your head. That bond inside you, the one that was still entirely one-sided, that tied you to him, drew you back to him, to find him and never leave his side again. But you knew that you couldn’t. Not until you knew that you were no longer a threat to him, and for that you would risk missing those days with him. For that you would risk him falling back into resentment against you for leaving. You would never hurt him, even if it meant he hated you for it.

Your training had been going well. Each and every morning was spent in the ring at the House of Wind going over your manoeuvres with Cassian, who seemed more than impressed by how much you had already managed to grasp in the short time that you had been training. You cited Silas - your teacher - as the sole reason for that, although Cassian had been quick to shoot down the idea.

“Nah, that’s all you,” he had said, thumping you hard on the shoulder. Not hard enough to leave a bruise, but rough that it left a lingering pain.

Your afternoons were usually spent with Rhys going over the training of your powers. Even in just the few short weeks that you had been practising, you had already managed to get a grip on how to swell and shrink your power if and when you needed it - to bring it to the forefront and hide it away to lie in wait, only at your non-verbal command. Loosely was the optimal word, however; you still hadn’t quite perfected it just yet.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Rhys’ crooning tone sounded from behind you. He had found you in the spot that you seemed to have taken residence in more than anywhere else during those first weeks. The very corner of the balcony where you had spotted your first glimpse of Velaris, where the stone met at a point, providing you with the perfect place to lean into and simply look out upon the city that so few dared to venture into. Rhysand copied your stance, bringing his forearms up to rest against the stone of the railing, clasping his hands together, violet gaze trained on you. “You’re thinking about him again, aren’t you?”

“I’m never not thinking about him,” you admitted, refusing to meet his stare for fear that, should you see those eyes filled with a knowing sympathy, the very walls that you had built to keep yourself guarded might crumble, leaving you a weeping mess at his feet. You hadn’t divulged to him that Lucien was your mate - hadn’t even mentioned that you loved him - but Rhysand had garnered that there was at least something there, some sort of feeling that made you ache for him the way that you did.

“I know a little of what that feels like,” he said, his lips pulling into a sorrowful smile. And there you remained, as you had for so many nights, standing in silence, lonely but not alone, staring out across the city that he called home.

Mourning those you could not have.

The Spring Court had never felt so…empty. It bustled around Lucien at a never-ending pace, preparations readying for what Ianthe had begun calling the wedding of the century. Everyone was in high spirits - even Tamlin, to a degree. That stoic demeanour was still just as it had been on the day Y/N had left, yet there was a glimmer in his eye at the thought of what lay ahead. A lifetime with the female he loved.

Lucien couldn’t help the twinge of jealousy that ricocheted through him at the very idea.

Feyre, he had noticed, seemed to be the only person who wasn’t excited for the upcoming nuptials. Well, the only person besides himself. She had closed herself off, more so with Y/N’s departure to the Night Court. It had left her with no one, not really. She had Tamlin, and his arduous mood swings, and Ianthe who seemed to be trying to paint her into the portrait of an obedient High Lord’s wife. And she had him, but he couldn’t deny that his heart simply wasn’t in it anymore.

There was no more teasing from him, no more humoured lilt in his tone when he spoke to her. He too, it would seem, had become closed off since Y/N had left, for a different reason, of course.

Because his heart longed to be with her, to be near her, and no matter what distractions he might find for himself - training with Silas and the sentinels, or heading out on hunts, or lending a hand to Tamlin with the court’s paperwork - that need for her never dissipated. It was always there, bubbling under the surface.

Tamlin hadn’t given up searching for her. Sentinels had scoured every inch of the Spring Court in search of anything, and Lucien himself had been sent to damn-near every court in the hopes of retrieving her safely, or of at least finding a clue as to where she might actually be. Lucien knew, of course, although he wouldn’t share that information with his High Lord. He knew for certain that it was Rhysand and his Night Court goons who had ‘supposedly’ stolen her away in the night. Tamlin knew that too, although he was woe to believe it; he had scented that male in her room that night, and had pieced the puzzle together. Silas had even said as much, having stated with such conviction that it had been them. But Tamlin knew better than to go storming into the Night Court and risk starting an all-out war between courts without proof that she was even there, and Lucien was doing everything he could to make sure that didn’t happen.

And so, it remained, Y/N in the Night Court, Lucien in the Spring Court; two lovers trapped miles, and multiple courts and territories apart. Tamlin continued scouring every book that held any information about the laws of Prythian, and still sent his sentinels out in search of clues. Lucien kept his friend distracted from invading Night Court lands, did his best to keep Tamlin focused on the Spring Court and Feyre and the upcoming wedding. And the best that he was able to do was dream of her, to think of her when he closed his eyes, and to imagine that she was there by his side.

He felt her in every Spring breeze blowing the scent of jasmine and lavender from the gardens; her scent. He felt her in every kiss of sunlight that fell against his skin as warm as her lips, every click of blade against blade when he sparred with the sentinels. In the birds that chirped that reminded him of that night Under the Mountain when they had stared out of that little window in his chambers for hours. In every smile that he saw plastered onto the faces of passing village fae, beaming and glowing and beautiful.

He felt her everywhere, except beside him.

“That was good,” Rhys said with a small chuckle. “Although next time, please try not to go for my face. You nearly took my head off.”

You rolled your eyes and unwrapped your legs from their seated position. You had been at it for hours, trying to get your powers to reveal themselves in a non-threatening way. Rhys had said that this was the obvious next step - to learn how to let them out, to breathe, even when there wasn’t a threat. Until now, it would seem that anytime you let your powers out, they would immediately lunge for whomever else was present, as if their sole reasoning for being was to kill. And all of your previous lessons had forced Rhys to place a protection shield around himself. But now, it would seem, he was willing to take the risk. Perhaps he trusted you enough now to not let them hurt him. You weren’t sure you trusted yourself with that though. Until that point, the only person that the red smoke hadn’t tried to harm was you.

You had been perched on the rooftop of the House of Wind, away from any civilisation that may have been caught in any destruction your power might have made should it not go to plan, for what seemed like forever. Every ticking second only stood to remind you of how little you really knew or understood of these powers, and how little you were able to control them. They had already lunged for Rhysand well over ten times, and you could only assume that they would try again.

“It’s not working,” you muttered, wrapping your arms around yourself to protect from the sharp chill of the mountaintop. “It’s pointless. I’m never going to be able to control these fucking powers.”

Rhys frowned. “You’re not giving yourself enough credit. These powers that you have are strong, and the way that you’re able to wield them already, to let them out and reel them back in on command, is already showing a lot of restraint.”

“Not enough. They still try to kill you every time.”

Rhys sighed, rising to his feet and shoving his hands in his pockets, allowing his shoulders to shrug ever-so-slightly. “We’ve not been doing this for long. You need to have patience.”

“Because it’s not going to happen overnight, right?” You scoffed, echoing the words that he had told you countless times already, spinning on your heel to look back at him. His lips went thin in what you could only assume was pity.

“Exactly,” he affirmed. “You think I was able to control my powers immediately? No, it took me centuries to get this kind of grip on them, and even still, there are aspects that I haven’t perfected.”

You winced. Centuries. Centuries away from Lucien. You weren’t sure you could make it that long without him. You were sure you would go mad from want long before that. “I just feel…useless,” you admitted, kicking at the snow on the rooftop with the toe of your boot. Rhysand sighed once more, moving to clap a hand on your shoulder.

“You’re definitely not useless,” he said quietly. “Have more trust in yourself than that. I know that you’re eager to get it right, but don’t push yourself.”

“What would you suggest instead?” You asked with a raised eyebrow. He chuckled, turning and wrapping an arm around your shoulders, pulling you back toward the door. You relished in the warmth that his arm provided; it seemed any training that you had been doing was finished, for now.

“Patience,” he said again. He looked at you from the corner of his eye, watched the way your shoulders slumped, and your breath clouded in front of you as you exhaled deeply. “I have to admit, these few weeks I’ve been watching you train, I’ve noticed some similarities between your powers and Azriel’s shadows. They’re not the same, far from it, but they act in a similar way. Maybe he could be of some help to us.”

The only thing you could do was nod.

Patience. You had to be patient. But if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t sure how long that patience could last.

It was quite a scene, really, that Lucien had stumbled across. He rarely found himself in the rose garden - preferred to leave it as a place for Tamlin, a place where he could feel closer to his mother. But for some reason, in the weeks since Y/N had left, he had found himself drawn to that little rose garden, the flowers that bloomed there year-round reminding him of her. Of the rose he had gifted her for Solstice that had been more of a jibe against her than a real gift.

He regretted that now.

But as he wandered the gravelled path, the little stones crunching and sinking beneath each step of his boots, his eyes fell on Feyre. Her familiar haunch was perched on the edge of one of the stone benches. Lucien couldn’t deny in that moment that she looked rather angelic - golden-brown hair amidst blood-red roses. The scene would be like that of one of the paintings that Feyre loved so much, if it hadn’t been for her ghostly pale skin, paper-like from endless days trapped in the house.

As he grew closer, he noticed that she held a rose in her hand, twirling it between her fingers. Each thorn was gone, ripped from the stem with what he thought looked like almost angry intent.

He cleared his throat, and she looked up, catching his eye in surprise.

“Didn’t think I’d find you out here,” he said, finally coming to a stop at the bench and taking a seat beside her, stretching his legs out straight against the gravel.

“I could say the same thing,” she muttered with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. She drew in a sigh, turning away from him and glancing back down to the rose in her hand, to the way it twirled, the sunlight bouncing off each petal. “I wish Y/N was here.”

Lucien blinked slowly. “Me too.”

“She loves you. You know?” Her words were so quiet, almost a whisper, barely audible above the gentle breeze that rustled the leaves above. Lucien wondered, for a second, if the words were being uttered without her permission or forethought.

“I know,” he replied as gently as he could.

“She’s lucky.” He watched as Feyre tossed the rose back into the bush, turning in her seat to stare at him intently. “Don’t let her forget how important she is.”

Lucien opened his mouth to speak, but before he had the chance, she was rising to her feet and floating back down the gravel toward the manor in eerie silence.

Lucien didn’t stop her.

Taglist

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Lucien Vanserra: | @luna-foxglove |