#not to mention how mesmerizing the entire cast is

[simonsquest]

[camzeecorner]

ONE TASTE 18+

Summary: Matt, the school's 'nerd,' unexpectedly found himself in a vulnerable position after confessing to his best friend that he was still a virgin, leading to a moment that would change their friendship forever.

Warnings : edging, praise, mommy kink, squirting, kissing, virginity lost, creampie, explicit language, manipulation if you squint

sub!matt x fem reader

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I lay on my back, gazing at the familiar patterns on my ceiling, the soft glow of the lamp casting gentle shadows as I listened to Matt flip through his pages repeatedly. It was almost hypnotic, the way he immersed himself in his studies. I couldn't help but wonder what fueled his passion for school; he cared for it with a devotion that was rare among our peers. People often whispered that I kept him around for his grades, that I used him, but they didn't understand. Matt was my favorite person, my best friend.

No one ever talked to him, and girls never seemed to approach him, which, oddly enough, made me happy. I liked how closed off he was to everyone else; it felt like I had a little piece of him all to myself. I began to wonder if Matt had ever been with a girl. He never mentioned crushes or the girls he found pretty, which was strange considering how open I was with him. I shared everything about my life, my escapades, my heartaches, but his world remained a mystery. At first, I didn't want to push him, but now I couldn't shake the feeling that maybe he was just embarrassed to share his secrets with me.

Sitting up, I fixed my gaze on him. Matt was different from the other boys at our school—only Chris and Nick shared that same vibe, but for entirely different reasons. To me, he was always attractive, with a magnetic charm that made my heart race. His sharp jawline and godlike features were mesmerizing, and his hair was perfectly soft, almost inviting to touch. But it was his eyes that captivated me the most—an enchanting shade of blue that seemed to hold entire galaxies within them. His glasses only accentuated his striking looks, making him the quintessential nerd, though never in my eyes. It was a shame that other girls couldn’t see what I saw. I pondered a little longer, taking in every detail, my heart fluttering as I examined him from head to toe, wondering if he could ever see himself the way I saw him.

“hey Matt..” I call out, catching his attention “..yea” Matt said looking up from his textbook. He turned his head slightly to the side so he could see me. I took a moment looking at him, “You ever..kiss a girl?” I say smiling. Matt shifted in his seat quickly reverting his eyes back to his book. He cleared his throat, his chest rising and falling. He began looking over the words on his book nervously. “Why are you asking me that..?” He spoke quietly. I got up walking next to him. I placed my hands on his shoulders running them up and down. “I’m just wondering matty.. you gonna answer my question?” He looked around in front of him, he had beads of sweat rolling down his forehead. “I really have to study .. you’re disturbing me.” I knew he was trying to avoid the conversation, but I was curious. I wanted to know everything about him. “It’s just one question..” I say scoffing. I look at his stuff sprawled out on my desk. I quickly grab his things and place them in his bag. “I was using those!” Matt barked at me. Turning around in his chair fast. “Matt you’ve never kissed a girl have you..” I whisper to him.

I bend my body down so I’m eye level with him. “You’ve never felt the touch of someone else on you” I lean forward to whisper in his ear. “S-stop” Matt stuttered. It was so fulfilling listening to him speak pathetically. He didn’t want me to stop. “Matt..” I look in his eyes, then his lips. His soft pink plump lips. They were chapped from the amount of time he had bit them. I bring him to my bed sitting him on the edge.

I knew what I had to do. I knew what I wanted to do. I kissed him.

It felt like a suction cup and I never wanted to release him. It took him a moment to realize I was kissing him. He moved him lips in a matching pace to mine. I tug on his hair pulling him even closer to me. I lick his top lip asking for an entrance. He doesn’t understand that, so I bite his lip gently. He gasps opening his mouth slighty. Being fast i slip my tongue inside his mouth. I find his tongue and start to gently suck on it, moaning into the kiss. I pull away with a string of saliva connected to our mouths. Matt’s eyes are wide open. “What..what was that for.” i shrug my shoulders smiling at him. Gently placing my lips back on him. I pull away and chuckle. “I was curious of what you tasted like..” I look up at him. His eyebrows raise. “I’ve never done that before..” he smiles blush slightly. I smile at him looking down. I licked my lips, tasting him. I look at Matt and smirk. “Have you ever seen a girl naked?” I bite my lip at him moving his glasses back onto his face as they slid down. Matt shook his head. “uhm..no.. I-i haven’t” “do you want to?” I ask him smirking. “Well. I don’t know.. if that’s a good idea” I stand up and take my shirt off. “I don’t see why it’s an issue.. if you want me to stop, just tell me and I’ll stop.”

I walk over to my bed, climbing on it. I scoot back so I’m at the headboard. I look at Matt and pat the spot beside me signaling him to sit there. Matt gets up and walks over. I can see his slightly hard boner, making his pants tighter. I smirk at myself. He sits beside me, putting some space between us. I scoot so I’m closer to him. I reach for Matt’s hand interlocking our fingers. I place our hands on my chest, gently squeezing them. Matt’s breath hitches in his throat. “Oh my god.” Matt spoke in a hushed breath. I let go of his hand reaching behind me unclasping my bra. I let it fall in my lap, picking it up tossing it to the side. His eyes immediately look down and my bare chest. “Do you like them matty?” He nods his head quickly. “I’ve never seen them in person, they never looked this perfect in the movies.” I laugh at his comment, enjoying the praise. He smiles lightly.

I lean forward grabbing Matt’s face. I kiss him rougher than I did the first time. He climbs on top of me making sure not to break the kiss. He begins massaging my boobs rolling my nipple in between his fingers. “Oh fuck Matt” I grind my hip upwards towards his hard erection trying to create friction. I reach my hand down gently palming him. He moans loudly into my mouth. I could’ve came right then and there from his sounds. I pull away from him and flip us over quickly. I straddle his waist. He’s lying down and I’m on top of him. I begin unbuttoning his shirt. Pulling it off of his body throwing it in the same direction as mine. I trail my hands up and down his toned stomach. “Do you want to have sex with me Matt?” I ask him shyly. “Yes.” He speaks quick. “But.. I don’t know how..” he looks away getting embarrassed. He’s so cute. “ that’s okay baby. Just lie down and be good f’me” I reach down kissing him. I pull away and get off of him pulling my shorts off. I look up and see Matt copying my movements, taking my underwear off I get back on Matt. I grab his fingers and place them right into my wet folds.

He gasps loudly looking up at me. I roll my body into his hand enjoying the feeling. I’ve never felt like this towards anyone before. “Oh g-god m-matt.. you make me feel s-so good” I moan throwing my head back. I feel him moving his fingers in a circular motion. I grip his wrist feeling my stomach tightening. He slips two fingers in moving them fast, in and out. “Oh god Matt.. right t-there.” I moan loudly. “Shit shit” my breath picking up. “Matt I’m gonna cum” bucking my hips forward, I cum all over his fingers feeling my body shaking. I slowly come down from my intense orgasm, feeling limp. “Did I do good for you?” I look at Matt and smile nodding my head. “So good baby” I kiss him. “Such a good boy” I whisper in his mouth. I pull away grabbing his hand placing his fingers into my mouth sucking my juices off of him. I lick each finger making sure to clean them perfectly. “You wanna taste me baby?” “Please..” I bring my lips towards him and kiss him sliding my tongue in his mouth, my cum mixing between us. He inhaled in the kiss. “So sweet” I pull away, resting my forehead against his. Leaning back up i repositioned myself so I’m sitting on his hard dick. “I’m gonna ride you now okay baby” he nods looking up at me.

I rub his cock slowly giving him satisfaction. He moans lowly closing his eyes at the feeling. “That feel good baby?” “S’good.. so good mommy” I stop my motions right then looking at him. Matt opens his eyes fast, and begins to sit up. He looked so scared. So vulnerable. “I’m sorry, I don’t know why I said that I’m so sorry-“ “don’t apologize,” I smirk at him. Cupping his face tilting my head to the side. “be a good boy for mommy okay” he whimpers at my words bucking his hips up. I sit up, placing his tip at my entrance rubbing it back and forth before slipping it into me. “Fuck Matt, you’re s-so huge” I pull my body up and slam back down, fast. Repeating the process until I build a pace going back up and down. Throwing my head back I moan. God I could ride him all day. My legs felt like they were getting weaker and weaker. I place my hands on his chest gaining balance. Matt noticed how tired my body was getting, he grabbed my thighs and started to thrust up. For a virgin he was so good at this. Hitting every perfect spot, at such amazing angles. I could feel him start to twitch in me. He must’ve been so close.

“M’so close mo-mommy” he whimpered. “Wait for me baby.. can you do that? Be a g-good boy and wait for me” he moaned and started gaining speed adding his fingers. He rubbed fast on my clit making me scream. “Fuck shit- oh my god- I’m gonna cum” he kept going fast hitting the same spot over and over. The pressure from his fingers and the way he was fucking himself into me making me squirm. “C’mon mommy.. wanna feel you cum on my cock” hearing him say that was enough to send me over the edge. I whimper chocking on my sobs. “I’m cumming Matt shit shit-“ I felt the knot in my stomach releasing over matt for the second time. I saw liquid flow out of me fast, Matt getting pushed out of me in the process. I felt his cum dripping out of me. Our fluids mixing together. “You made me squirt Matt..” I look at him shocked. I begin giggling covering my face. I look at Matt in disbelief, “No one has ever made me feel that good.” He smiles at me through his heavy breathing, the look he was giving me was enough to make me want to fuck him again.“does that make me special?” He closed his eyes trying to catch his breath. His glasses had fogged up, I grab them wiping the lenses. “You’ve always been special to me.” I look up at him through my eyelashes. “I’ll get something to clean the mess” I get up going into my bathroom and grab a cloth. I run the rag through hot water, ringing the extra water out. Walking back to my room I climb on my bed beside matt.

I gently wipe him down, being careful not to startle him. I can tell he’s sensitive; he hisses every time I touch him. Getting up, I head to my closet and grab some clothes for us. Walking back to Matt, I hand him the clothes. “Thank you,” he says, a soft smile spreading across his face. “Of course,” I reply, slipping into my own outfit.

I climb into bed, scooting next to Matt and resting my head on his chest. It feels so comfortable here; he always makes me feel safe, like I can truly be myself. My mind races with thoughts, and I can’t help but wonder how we would look together as a couple. I look up at him, my heart pounding, and finally speak up. “I wanna be with you, Matt. I’ve never thought any less of you. You’ve always been so perfect to me.” My voice is quiet, but I hope he hears me.

For a few seconds, he doesn’t respond, just picks at his lips with his teeth. Doubt creeps in, and I start to regret my confession. What if he doesn’t feel the same way? He clears his throat, licks his lips, and pushes his hair back before turning to look at me, gently grabbing my chin. “You’ve always been my favorite girl,” he says, leaning in to place a soft kiss on my lips. I smile into the kiss, warmth flooding my cheeks. When he pulls away, he tucks some hair behind my ear and locks his fingers in my hair, scanning my face as he tugs his lip between his teeth. “I wanna be with you too…”

In that moment, I feel like the happiest girl alive. I leap up from the bed, swinging my arms around him in pure joy. I’ve never felt this happy before! I shower him with kisses all over his face, feeling myself melt into him. He giggles, wrapping his arms around me, and I finally place a gentle kiss on his cheek, relaxing into his embrace. It’s perfect.

A/N: just notice I don’t have a tag list #embarafuckingssing

[lovelyhan]

— ode to you ⟢

if there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. he can be crass. he can be secretive. he can be nothing short of vexing. but in the end, he's everything you need him to be.

or: 25 lives in which you find and don't find jeonghan.

★ FEATURING; jeonghan x gn!reader

★ WORD COUNT; 6.9k words

★ TAGS; reincarnation, multiple lives, pining, angst, suggestive scenes but no smut, sooo many tropes

★ WARNINGS; mentions of blackmail, implied murder, implied depression, mentions of puking/vomiting, mentions of car accidents major character death

★ NOTES; i was supposed to work on my collab fics but i feel like i've gotten a little rusty w my prose so i wrote this as a little writing exercise of sorts :D i've written for other fandoms in this format before and i thought it was high time i did the same for seventeen with my ult of all ults <3 i hope you enjoy!

this is inspired by tongari's 25 lives

★ PERMANENT TAGLIST; @cheolhub - @pretty-trustme - @just-here-to-read-01 - @Idkmelkro - @dejavernon - @venusrae - @jyiiscool - @jiniesclub - @junhui-recs - @bldelaine - @featmia - @fruitzcup - @hoeforhao - @candidupped - @billboard-singer - @caratochan - @novalpha - @dahliatopia - @0717luv - @shiveringgaze - @toruro - @mixling-blog - @minnie-mouser22 - @homerunhansol - @mirtaspace - @ti–red - @zzucculent - @woozarts - @rubyreduji - @mozellerra - @lllucere - @cheolzip - @jjjzzzz - @lissiesykes - @jeonride - @meowmeowminnie - @colored-confetti - @partiallyinfluencial - @speaknowlwt - @flwrshwa - @lilylikesthat - @aurorahongg - @whippedforjihoon

★ JEONGHAN TAGLIST; @yoonzinoooo - @scandal-in-bohemia - @bias-recs - @lunaryoongie

01. the very first time i remember you, you are blonde and you don’t love me back.

One strict rule that you make sure to uphold with all of your clients is that business comes first before all else.

You're a well-known freelancer that lands gigs left and right from high-end fashion brands and magazines alike. The only way your career managed to survive in such a cut-throat industry is because of the strict professionalism you never failed to maintain.

That's until you meet Jeonghan for the first time.

Fluffy blonde hair framing his face, curling just along the edges. Slanted eyes that crinkle just a bit whenever he smiles. And a lazy grin that betrays just how nonchalant he is about the entire thing. Like he knows he's gorgeous he is and how everyone else in the vicinity is aware of the fact, too.

You've worked with a handful of people with breathtaking features in in the past, but there doesn't seem to be any word in any language that could encapsulate just how mesmerizing Jeonghan is.

For the first time in your career, you find yourself wanting to reach for the subject being captured by the lens of your camera. Just to make sure he was an actual person and not some doll crafted from fine silk and porcelain. The fact that he's modeling with a bouquet of lush flowers does little to your peace of mind.

But your innate professionalism overrules whatever nonsensical desires your sleep-deprived brain could conjure in that moment.

Once you're satisfied with the material you've come up with, you're quick to dismiss Jeonghan and the rest of the team, and call it a day. You have another shoot to oversee in less than two hours and you'd like to avoid the rush hour traffic if you can.

Yet, despite your urgency, you stop halfway to the door to the studio—casting a sidelong glance at the person who's supposed to be one of your temporary colleagues and none else.

"Jeonghan," you call out, his name tasting bittersweet on your tongue. "It was nice working with you today."

He barely glances up at you from the soft glow of his phone screen, not even a smile spared your way.

"Yeah, sure."

02. the next time, you are brunette, and you do.

Yoon Jeonghan is the biggest menace you've met in your life.

Not only does he keep stealing your parking space in the office basement and plucks off the last brownie in the pantry during break time, but he's after the promotion you've been vying after for months, too.

Needless to say, he's public enemy number one in your eyes, and all your colleagues are well aware of the scorching rivalry you two constantly waged in the workspace.

But on the night before you're set to present the proposal that you swear up and down would make your superiors choose you over that sniveling prick, the Devil himself swoops into your cubicle with a shit-eating grin on his face.

"Do you really not see it?"

You frown at him as you shove your laptop into your bag with an air of irritation. "See what? That they're going to select you for the promotion? I don't, actually. That's why I'm—"

The words promptly melt on your tongue when Jeonghan forces a hand on divider separating your space with the others—trapping you with a sleazy look on his face. His dark brown tresses fall across his piercing eyes but you force yourself to hold your ground.

In the midst of it all, a moment's worth of familiarity crosses your mind.

Blonde hair styled to perfection. A bouquet of flowers just as beautiful as the man that models for them.

How long has it been since then?

"Can't you see that I'm only doing all this to get your attention?" he chuckles. "I've always known you're a bit slow on the uptake, but you might need an extra push in the right direction."

You gulp nervously. "W-What's that supposed to mean?"

Jeonghan shakes his head, amusement dancing across his features in a way that makes you want to smack him, if not for the laws imposed on the land.

"Have dinner with me tonight and I'll withdraw from the competition" he propositions. "How's that sound?"

...Isn't this blackmail? It definitely sounds like blackmail.

But despite knowing that you should just bring your knee up to smash into his family jewels, your face heats up with the implications of his offer instead.

An offer that you begrudgingly accept.

03. after a while i give up trying to guess if the color of your hair means anything.

"Really?"

Jeonghan grins when he steps into your apartment sporting his newest dye job. You're perfectly aware that idols these days get the most outrageous hair colors, but you didn't think his stylist would be daring enough to pull off long purple hair for Jeonghan just a few months after his group's debut.

Over the years, Jeonghan cycles through a lot more colors than you'd ever thought he'd be willing to try. Blonde, pink, red, brown, silver—all of them, he pulls off with grace.

Even when his idol days are over, he still gets bouts of wanting to march into the nearest salon for another makeover, and you rectify this by just buying the cheapest bleaching kits online despite his whines in protest.

"Our stylist noonas would've been alright with a house call." He pouts just a little as you force him to sit still. "It might come out all patchy."

"Do you have so little faith in your partner's bleaching skills?" you huff, dipping the brush you have in one hand into the bowl of sharp-smelling bleaching mix in the other. "Your stylists noonas charge a fortune, too. We're better off doing it ourselves."

Jeonghan laughs. "You act like we can't afford it."

Turns out, you fucked up the portions of your little bleach concoction and your harmless session resulted into googling first aid for bleaching burns and soaking Jeonghan's scalp with coconut oil for the rest of the day.

"Sorry," you mumble as you help rinse out the oil the next morning. "Do you want to contact your stylist or head to a salon instead?"

Despite your wary disposition, Jeonghan merely breathes out a chuckle, taking your hand in his as he meets your eyes in the bathroom mirror.

There, two rings glimmer in the morning light—the one he shares with his twelve brothers and the one you slid onto his index on the day of your wedding.

"I've been through worse, love. This is nothing," he insists before pressing a soft kiss across your knuckles. "Let's just let my scalp rest for a few days before we dye it, okay?"

You shake your head with a laugh. Really, what are you supposed to do with this man?

"If you insist."

04. because even when you don’t exist, i'm still in love with you.

"You got my name wrong again."

In the middle of packing a takeout bag for the food delivery guy waiting in the corner of the café, you look up to some familiar college kid standing in front of the counter with a furrow on his brow. A regular, maybe.

"Sorry?" you ask, brain a little too frazzled to make sense of what he was trying to say.

Said college kid shows you the underside of his cup—the name Jeonghan scribbled hastily onto the material.

"My name's Jeongin," he sighs. "I've been coming here everyday and I swear, you always get it wrong."

"Well, I'm so sorry, Jeongin, I'll make sure it doesn't happen again," you manage to wrench out before calling out to the delivery guy, saying the order was ready for pick-up.

Funnily enough, you end up living together with Jeongin by some twist of fate. Your shoes are lined up with his outside the apartment, toothbrushes lying in the same cup in the bathroom, and you even steal his hoodies every now and again.

But what you don't tell your boyfriend of five years is how you still dream of the man whose name brought you together in the first place.

A man who you don't get the pleasure to meet in this life, much like a dozen others that came before.

05. i remember most fondly those lifetimes where we get to grow up together

In the past (though its definition is a little...unique in your case), you were convinced that just because Jeonghan is the sole singularity to which your existence is anchored to, that doesn't necessarily mean you'll get to have him and him alone in each life.

Yet in this one, you're fully convinced that he's the only person who'll ever have your heart.

It's on a cold, winter afternoon when you realize that you're in love with the boy that showed you how to cross the monkey bars in elementary school. The boy who gives you his packed lunch whenever you forget yours at home. The boy who taught you how to pick locks so you could sneak into his father's liquor shop and get drunk behind the counter.

Jeonghan has always been a fascinating person in whatever life you meet him. But now that you've got a taste of what it feels to grow up alongside him—witnessing him transition from a snotty kid to a troublesome adult—you can't picture yourself wanting anyone else.

He's rightfully startled when you confess your feelings merely minutes after having realized them. You've lived through this endless cycle of meeting and parting ways enough times to know that there's no room for uncertainty.

And each time he accepts you with open arms, the relief that washes over you feels like the first time all over again.

06. when i share my secrets and sorrows and hiding places with you.

There are times when you're the one who doesn't remember the lives you've lived in the seemingly endless cycle.

When you meet Jeonghan in this life, it's with shoulders carrying the weight of emotional baggage and dreams that have been crushed right before your eyes. It's an understatement to say that you're inexplicably drawn to him as if he's a beacon in the dark. But even if you're yet to remember, Jeonghan has always been easy to trust. Easy to fall into.

One night is particularly heavier than the rest. Your meds aren't kicking in the way they're supposed to and it's raining much too harshly to pay your comfort person a late night visit.

Yet when you call your boyfriend as you choke on your own tears, he's at your door in half an hour—paper bags full of all your favorite snacks in hand with a smile that feels like a ray of sunlight amidst a raging storm.

But he's quick to drop all of it and pull you into a hug when he sees the mess you are in the living room.

"I'm a bad person," you sob into his chest, clinging to the fabric of his jacket as he placates you in his tender embrace. "I'm s-selfish and always just think about myself. I've done so many terrible things, Hannie... How could you even love someone like me?"

Jeonghan doesn't answer right away. He calms you down for the better part of an hour before rising to get you a glass of water in the kitchen. Your boyfriend watches with quiet attentiveness until the look on your face tells him that you're ready to talk again.

"So what if you're a bad person, love?" he murmurs before planting a kiss on your forehead. "Tell me every terrible thing you did and let me love you anyway."

Despite yourself, you let out a soft laugh. "Which cheesy pocketbook did you pull that one out of?"

"Hey, I drove for thirty minutes in the rain and this is how you thank me?" He huffs before reaching for a bag of chips he haphazardly strewn across the coffee table, tearing it open and offering you a piece. "I read that on Pinterest, by the way."

07. i love how you play along with my bad ideas

In many, many lives, Jeonghan is not yours to love.

And that's okay. There isn't a fine print stating that because you're blessed (cursed?) to meet him in each lifetime, you're meant to be together against all odds.

Fate is fickle like that—so unpredictable that you never really know how to act whenever you do cross paths with Jeonghan eventually.

Still, even if you're not destined to be lovers, you can still love him in other ways.

Like helping him sneak out of his third period lecture so he can come watch local street performers hold a fundraising show in some underground bar. You do all this because he once told you that he wanted to support them in any way he could.

If only Jeonghan could see the grin on his face that gets wider with each dancer that takes the stage, he wouldn't have a hard time wondering why it was so easy to fall in love with him.

"So when's the next time you'll help me sneak out of a lecture?" Jeonghan asks as the two of you head back to campus at a mellow pace even if Jeonghan's next classes starts in ten minutes.

You hum as if genuinely contemplating. "Maybe after you do me a huge favor in return for this one."

Your shoulders bump together as he lets out an easygoing laugh. As the late afternoon sunlight filters through a canopy of trees and onto your best friend's face, you feel a tug at your heartstrings that urges you to pull him in for a kiss.

But you don't.

08. before you grow up and realize that they’re bad ideas.

"Are you sure this is safe?"

Jeonghan's voice sounds considerably spooked when the amusement park staff locks in the over-the-shoulder restraints. The buzz of excitement from other visitors rings in your ears and he seems to be the only person that isn't looking forward to being on a rollercoaster.

"You act like this is the first time you've been on one." You roll your eyes. "Just relax and feel the wind on your face, yeah? If it gets too much just hold my hand or whatever."

You should not have offered in the first place because by the time the you've made two trips around the wildly looped tracks, you're convinced Jeonghan has already cut any and all circulation to your fingers with how tightly he's gripping your hand.

But still...you can't deny that it feels a little nice to be needed by him.

09. (and in our lives together i have many, many bad ideas.)

“Do I know you?” 

Jeonghan makes the mistake of blurting out those very strange words when he catches you sitting right next to him at the bar. You startle when he breaks the ice, fully convinced you're the one who had to initiate when you deliberately slid into the stool to his right.

Amused, you study him without much of a real expression before the tension in your posture melts into gentle laughter.

“No,” you say with a tone that suggests you're making fun of him. “But we could get out of here so we can get to know each other better. What’s your name?”

A dozen expressions flit across Jeonghan's face in mere seconds and you would've laughed again if you didn't know the reason behind the perplexity of his reactions.

“It’s Jeonghan. But you can call me…”

Before he can get the rest of the pick-up line out, he promptly throws up all over your outfit.

10. when we meet as adults, you're always much more discerning. I don't blame you.

"Again."

Your sweat beads across your forehead and drips onto the floor as you catch your breath. Palms braced across your knees, you look up to your mentor with a resentful glare.

In this life, Jeonghan—who was considered part of the 'anemic line' in his group eternities ago—is now one of the most well-known choreographers in the industry and would probably put Soonyoung to shame with how much of a perfectionist he is when it comes to your routines.

"Can't I get a five-minute water break?" you plead.

"You can get one when you think you deserve it," he says flatly before crossing his legs. "Do you?"

Much to your chagrin, you're just as much of a perfectionist as he is in this life. You shake your head with a guttural sigh, forcing yourself back into position despite your muscles aching for a break.

You don't miss the way Jeonghan smiles at your display of determination, but you don't let yourself think much of it either.

11. yet, always, you forgive me.

Jeonghan is upset with you.

He has all the right to be, really. You promised that you'll leave enough candy bars from your Trick or Treat haul to last both of you for a week, but you ended up overeating while binging your afternoon cartoons and now there's only one stick of chocolate left in the hollow, pumpkin-shaped bucket.

"I'm sorry," you murmur. "Do you want to go to the candy store to buy some more? I can break my piggy bank if—"

"No, you're saving up for that new game on your Nintendo DS, right?"

The fact that he actually remembers that makes you gape at him. "Um, yeah, but it's no big deal. A candy bar is only worth a few—"

Not giving you any leeway to speak any further, Jeonghan grabs the last candy bar inside the bucket—tearing the packaging open with his teeth before breaking the chocolate in half in the middle. Despite his annoyance, he hands you the other half with a small pout.

"Then just keep saving up so we can play it together," he grumbles and even when he's barely eight years old, it comes so natural for him to show you how much he cares about you.

12. as if you understand what’s going on

"Do you go here often?"

You flash the stranger who's speaking to you a befuddled look—not expecting to hear a line typically used on you in bars at your father's yacht club, of all places. He's wearing tattered jeans and an atrocious pink flannel over an equally tattered shirt. You wonder if he's just going for an odd aesthetic or if he's in dire need of a closet makeover.

"No. I'm just waiting for my father," you tell the man honestly before glancing at the boats docked by the pier. "He bought another yacht that I'm sure he won't even think of after bragging about it to his friends."

The stranger laughs. "I know how you feel. My old man's just as materialistic as yours sounds."

Oh. Maybe he is just going for an odd aesthetic with his fit after all.

"Wouldn't have thought you were a nepo baby, too," you snort before kicking a lone pebble into the water—watching it sink into the depths until it's out of sight. "I thought you were one of the boys that maintain these things while their owners completely forget about them."

"Hmm, I can be anything you want me to be," he chuckles and even if you've only met this guy five minutes ago, something about his laughter sounds so oddly familiar.

"The name's Jeonghan, by the way." The not-so stranger smiles and the feeling that you know him from somewhere intensifies tenfold.

"What's yours?"

13. and you're making up for all the lifetimes in which one of us doesn't exist

You like to think of yourself as an independent person.

You've crossed literal lifetimes in the strangest rendition of immortality that you've never once read in all the books you've deigned to pick up in this never-ending eternity. It's only natural for you to be self-sufficient.

But when it comes to Jeonghan, you always get to refamiliarize yourself with what it feels like to be lonely.

There are things about him that you consider irreplaceable: the curve of his easygoing smile, the warmth of his slender fingers, and the touch you yearn for constantly.

You're perfectly aware that you don't need Jeonghan for all these lives to gain some semblance of meaning. In fact, it's in the lives where you don't meet him that you get to learn a thing or two about yourself.

But when he is there, when he's the reason you get out of bed everyday, you simply think that a second of being with Jeonghan in the flesh is worth more than a lifetime in his absence.

14. and the ones where we just, barely, never meet.

Your phone is pressed into your ear in the middle of the grocery store because your good friend Joshua thought it was the perfect time to rant about his insufferable boss.

Being the lovely person that you are, you let him talk your ear off as you parse through the cabbages on display—wondering which one you should bring home for salad night.

"He's such a fucking prick, you know?" Joshua groans out the same sentence for the third time since you picked up his call. "No wonder his wife is having an affair behind his back. That's karmic retribution if I've seen it.''

"Shua, have you ever considered just resigning instead of making me your therapist?"

"I have, it's just that finding a new job is way more of a hassle than dealing with my asshole boss everyday," he grumbles. "But about the therapist thing—thanks for always listening to me. I know I can be annoying at times but you always put up with it any..."

Joshua's voice fades into the backdrop of your mind when you spot a flash of pink in the corner of your eyes. You instinctively turn your head in the direction of a stranger running towards the exit of the supermarket—wearing an atrocious pink flannel that you would recognize anywhere in any lifetime.

You briefly apologize to Joshua before ending the call, shoving your phone into the pocket of your jeans before leaving your push cart to chase after the figure receding from your line of sight.

You just barely catch him hopping onto a bus when your instincts lead you to further outside. You would have sprinted for a ride, had it not been for the children that obstruct your path with a little game of tag.

By the time you finally shake them off, the bus has already driven past the intersection—snuffing out the candle, leaving you in the dark.

15. i hate those. i prefer the ones in which you kill me.

You've watched a dozen serial killer documentaries in your lifetime—well, lifetimes. They always start the same way: a psychopath with a way with words charming his next unsuspecting victim into their utter demise.

While you absolutely did not know that this life's Jeonghan will turn out to be a crazed lunatic that gets off on seeing another human being's blood on his hands, it doesn't really change the fact that your heart is still tethered to him despite.

He still smiles as sweetly as you can remember as the tip of his knife glides along the column of your throat. His voice is just as comforting in those lives where he'd never forget to kiss you good night right before going to sleep.

"You're such a pretty little thing, aren't you?" Jeonghan murmurs. "But you'd be so much prettier if you just lay still."

The last thing you remember seeing is the angelic look on his face as if he's the one who'll personally escort you to the next life.

You don't particularly mind.

16. but when all's said and done, i'd rather surrender to you in other ways.

It's only amidst the post-orgasmic clarity that you realize how much of a fool you are.

These quick trysts you share with Jeonghan are brief. He invites you over under the guise of something that isn't sex for the sake of propriety, only to pull you into his apartment and kiss you until stars danced behind your eyelids.

He's flicks the cigarette he's having on the ashtray as he complains about a coworker he's been trying to get with for the past month. She likes playing hard-to-get, but I like her so much that I don't really mind? Is that weird? Oh, do you want a smoke, too? Sure, let me light you a quick one in a sec—

You're a fool because you've spent dozens, if not hundreds of lives chasing after him—whether you yourself are aware of it or not.

To Jeonghan, this is a life he probably won't remember in the next. To you, it's another inescapable death sentence.

"Maybe you should drop the nice guy act," you suggest before taking a drag of your own—not caring how the ashes stain Jeonghan's crisp white sheets despite his protests. "Showing your true colors is what got you to land me, you know."

"And we all know how much of a catch you are." He winks before killing his cigarette on the ashtray.

You're about to respond with an eyeroll until he plucks the cancer stick off your hands as well, disposing of it the same way he did with his own. When Jeonghan maneuvers himself on top of you again, you let out a withering sigh.

"Maybe I should just date you instead," he giggles before leaning down to nip at your ear, slender arms coiling around your waist. "What do you think?"

"You already told me before that I wasn't your ideal partner, asshole," you remind him with a huff.

Jeonghan hums, a noncommittal sound that seems like there's something else layered underneath. "But what if I told you that already changed?"

It's enticing—the possibility of getting to have him again when you couldn't really call him yours right now. But you know better than to take things that aren't meant for you.

At least, not in this life.

"Stop saying silly things and just fuck me already," you grumble, already tugging off his boxers. "Then you'll delete my number right after so you can finally get with the woman of your dreams. Got that?"

17. even though each time, i know i'll see you again, i always wonder

You've always looked forward to summer.

No more grueling classes. No more deadlines to catch up on. Summer means you get to go back to your hometown for a few weeks, unwinding in ways that your usual schedules don't quite permit you to.

Summer also means you'll get to visit Jeonghan again.

Your mother already has food and flowers prepared in advance—saying Mrs. Yoon kicked up a huge fuss when she found out you were going back home this weekend. You receive the news with fond laughter, noting how the flowers Jeonghan's mother picked out are reminiscent of the ones he held in the very first life you met him.

"I'm graduating next year," is the first thing you tell Jeonghan when you arrive, popping open two ice cold sodas before settling yourself on the grass in front of him. "Can you believe it? Four years of college, just gone in a flash. If you actually went through with your performing arts scholarship, you'd know how I feel."

"I'm thinking of getting a job here instead of the city. You know, so you won't feel too lonely without me," you chuckle, the moisture of your drink beading across your fingers. "Although, your sister keeps insisting that they give you plenty of company already and that I should chase after my own dreams first. She's starting to sound a lot like you, you know that?"

Jeonghan doesn't respond. Of course he doesn't. But you can almost hear his stilted laughter in the warm breeze anyway.

You place the flowers and the cola in front of his gravestone with a bittersweet pang in your chest. But before the tears can get the chance to escape, you turn on your heel and leave the cemetery altogether.

You didn't always look forward to summer after the accident that took the love of your life away. But knowing that your best friend—your soulmate—would simply be waiting for you in the next life, things became much, much easier.

18. is this the last time?

"Don't go..."

Jeonghan murmurs the words between drunken hiccups as he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck. You chuckle, smoothing your hand across his sweater-clad back as he clings to you like a koala.

"Hannie, what do you mean?" you whisper as you glance at the mess of empty bottles you'll have to clean up from the coffee table once you put your boyfriend to bed. "I'm not going anywhere."

He pulls away from you briefly, puffy eyes glistening with tears as he lets out a shuddering sigh.

"I had a dream that you left me for some guy named...Jeongin, or whatever," he mumbles. "I promise I'll treat you better than anyone else. Just don't...leave me."

In some way, he remembers. Not everything because even you don't completely recall all the lives you've lived. There's too many of them now, most of which are too painful to think about all over again.

But this is the first actual instance where Jeonghan unknowingly hints that his past lives stay with him even beyond death, and it makes you wonder if he'll start to remember the others in time as well.

"I won't, Hannie," you whisper, weaving the words into a promise that you'll be sure to keep in the next life, and the hundreds of lives that will inevitably follow.

"I won't."

19. is that really you? 

There are lifetimes where you try, but it just doesn't work out.

Sometimes, fate carves both you and Jeonghan into mismatched pieces of two different puzzles, and he doesn't even try to convince you to stay as you quietly pack away your belongings in dull brown boxes. The tension in your movements tells him that you knows he's watching.

"I'm not getting back together with you, if that's what you're wondering," you rasp. "If you love your job more than me, then I'll be the one to see myself out." 

Jeonghan manages a sad smile that you completely miss—having been so caught up with your frustration with him to look. You thought that in each life he ends up becoming a world-famous idol, it meant that he'd also live all of his days with you by his side.

But things aren't always that simple, and Jeonghan merely stands in resignation as you shut the door to both his house and your heart. 

20. and what if you're already perfectly happy without me?

When you took up a job as an events coordinator, never in your wildest dreams did you expect to be planning Jeonghan's wedding, of all things.

He doesn't seem to remember you and you don't really fault him for not recognizing someone he's met literal lifetimes ago. Not when he's obviously so enamored with his current fiancé.

"We were interested in the deluxe package on your website," Seungcheol, his intended, breaks the ice after the formal introductions, showing you a screenshot on his phone. "Is this inclusive of a lights and sound system or will we have to outsource those somewhere else?"

You nearly miss what Seungcheol was asking you—too caught up in how beautiful Jeonghan looks today. He's grown out his hair longer than he usually does and it's half pinned behind his head.

When it takes you a while to respond, both his and Seungcheol's gazes flicker with confusion before your heart sinks with how in tune they are with each other.

"Y-Yes, lights and sounds are already included in the package." You compose yourself with a warm smile. "But you might be interested in the royalty package. This would give you access to..."

21. ah, but i don’t blame you.

"Baby, I'm sorry."

Jeonghan looks like a kicked puppy sitting at the side of the hospital bed with how apologetic he is. You want to tell him that it really is no big deal but with the lower half of your body temporarily paralyzed, you can't really say that's the case.

"I shouldn't have insisted that you come to the music show when it was raining," he groans. "It's a miracle you managed to swerve out of the truck's way."

You wonder if he remembers the life where you lost him to an accident not so different from the one you narrowly escaped last night. The absolute fear in his eyes the moment he saw you covered in casts and bandages is reminiscent of the time you received the phone call informing you of your boyfriend's passing.

But you don't make it a habit to ponder too long about lives that have long come to an end. What's important is now, where you're still living and breathing and able to remain by his side.

"It's not your fault, Hannie," you murmur as you reach out to pet his head with some difficulty. "I shouldn't have gone past the speed limit in the first place."

"Well, you wouldn't have to do that if I wasn't being so pushy about you showing up," he sighs in defeat. "Tell you what, I'll pull out of all our comeback schedules until you can walk by yourself again."

You frown at him. "What? No! Your managers are going to kill you."

"They will, but knowing you'll be all alone while you recover will kill me inside too."

Jeonghan isn't usually this cheeky with you, so you keep this memory tucked away in your consciousness for as long as you can. Knowing there's no talking him out of it once he's got his mind set, you shake your head with a defeated sigh.

"You better take care of me like they do in those five star nursing homes then."

22. i’ll never burn as brilliantly as you. 

Your favorite lives, you think, are the ones where he lights up the stage and the entire world as an idol.

He's happiest in these kinds of lives. The bond he shares with the rest of his bandmates transcends even the love you've harbored for him through lifetimes, and if there are people you'll gladly surrender Jeonghan to, it's those twelve boys that will always be his brothers no matter what.

"How was that?"

You're in the middle of giving out stage directions for the next round of performers when Jeonghan walks up to you with his signature, lazy smile. He's sweat-stricken with a stutter to each breath he takes, but he makes himself appear just as composed as he wants you to think.

"Breathtaking as always, Jeonghan," you decide to humor him—knowing that the sooner you give him a compliment, the sooner he'll leave you alone. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to—"

"Will you be busy after the show? I wanted to cook dinner for us at home."

A panicked look seizes your face when you gesture for him to keep it down. Your eyes dart around the vicinity—idols and their stylists running around backstage in preparation for the next segment of the show. None of them seemed to have picked up on Jeonghan's little slip of the tongue.

"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" you whisper sharply over the sound of another fellow stage director paging you in the south entrance. "Anyways, I have to go, Hannie. And please don't go blabbing about our relationship where you shouldn't."

When that idiotically handsome smile doesn't fade from his lips, you know things won't exactly go your way as usual.

23. it's only fair that i should be the one

At some point, you stop counting altogether.

The lives you live with and without Jeonghan blend seamlessly into each other the longer the cycle repeats itself. It doesn't hurt as much when you don't find him, but your heart still gushes with relief when you do.

And yet there are instances where you try to spit in the face of fate itself. Instances where you decide that you don't want to be chained to Jeonghan anymore. That the lives you live belong to you and that you won't let some otherworldly force dictate the course of it any longer.

One day in the summer, in some petty attempt to cheat your way out of fate, you decide to date your next door neighbor.

Sujin has the same eyes as Jeonghan—it’s something you can’t really look past. Maybe that’s what makes it so easy for her to wear down your defenses without breaking a sweat.

But the moment the thought crosses your mind, you wipe out every similarity until you can’t see them anymore. They almost look the same apart from gender, but Sujin is so different from Jeonghan, that for a while, you forget about the burden you've been carrying all this time.

One day in the fall, Sujin talks about meeting her brother for dinner, and you don't really ponder about it—agreeing without a hitch.

But that’s only the first of your many mistakes because the man who walks into the restaurant is Jeonghan. Sujin’s brother, the person who’s kissing your girlfriend on the cheek, is Jeonghan. 

“Did you know that Sujin never shut up about you when you brought her the housewarming gift?” Jeonghan snorts before ordering a glass of wine. “Hmm, you look kind of familiar, though… Have we met before?”

“No,” you respond almost instantly.

It doesn’t work. Your master plan of waging war with destiny is rendered utterly useless when Jeonghan bruises his way back into your life. Where Sujin managed to ease herself past the walls you've put up after a few weeks, Jeonghan tears them down in half the time his sister took to pick you apart. 

One day in the winter, Sujin breaks up with you, and in spite of the coil of emotions twisting in your chest, you watch her pack her things and move back into the apartment across the hall. 

One day in the spring, there’s a knock on your front door that you're in no hurry to answer. You stare at Jeonghan with equal parts irritation and relief when you see him there. His grin reminds you of flowers unfurling as he stares back with a challenge in his eyes.

A challenge you loathe, but one you can never refuse.

24. to chase you across ten, twenty-five, a hundred lifetimes

“Don’t you ever get tired?”

Your head is resting on Jeonghan's lap when he poses the question, and you think the fact that your eyes are closed is already an answer on its own.

You used to think you were cursed. Maybe you've incurred enough bad karma in your very first life to provide you with a steady stream of misfortune in the next few million lives you're destined to live.

That could be the reason why you have to live all these lives, meet all these people—rinse and repeat. Is this how the gods are punishing you? Is there anyway to atone for sins you can't even remember committing anymore?

Though…when you open your eyes and see Jeonghan staring out into the distance, you have a hard time thinking of him as a punishment. 

You sit upright and stretch out your limbs. There’s a kink in the back of your neck that might be resolved by a good night’s sleep, but you offer Jeonghan a hand before you can think about it any more.

“No,” you answer as you twines your fingers together, pulling him back to his feet as he spares you a loving smile.

“Not really.”

25. until i find the one where you'll return to me.

"That bouquet's really pretty."

Jeonghan glances behind him with a confused look—frustration clear on his face from trying to get the new stove he had installed in your kitchen last week to start. When his eyes land on the beautiful spill of flowers bundled up in a vase on the dining table, his features soften with fondness.

"Those are the flowers I had when you met me the first time, right?" he chuckles before taking a seat next to you. "The one where I was a 'prick of a model who wouldn't even bat you an eyelash'?"

Your chest bubbles with laughter at his description. You've grown more and more comfortable with telling Jeonghan about the lives you've shared in eternities that have long unspooled, and just when you feared he'd treat you like someone who escaped an asylum, he instead took all your words to heart.

He doesn't quite remember them all on his own, but when you bring up little pieces from old memories you do manage to dredge up, he's able to complete the pieces of the story to form a coherent picture.

Maybe that's what Jeonghan is to you—someone that isn't exactly necessary to have in your life, but someone who makes it infinitesimally better.

If there's one thing you've learned from all the lives you've spent together, it's that Jeonghan isn't always someone you'll end up wanting. He can be crass. He can be secretive. He can be nothing short of vexing.

But he can also be kind, considerate, and present in times when you need him the most.

In the end, he's everything you need him to be.

And you couldn't ask for anything more.

⟢ end notes: me: this is a writing exercise, the word count: pushing 7k :') ok so this wasn't proofread even in the slightest so if you spot any mistakes and errors, no you didn't <3 thank you for joining me in this very self indulgent train of delusion!

[pretzel-box]

MDNI | TW: Body Horror, Detailed Graphic Description of Gore. Mention of Needles

Tags: Established Relationship, Devotion, Obsession, TW Tags above

Words: 2,2k

Sebastian Solace could hear your faint breathing in the silence, another form of melody that graced his ears. It was calming and invited him to pause from the burden of the daily life and dream instead. He was sure, your presence alone is like a bright shimmer at the edge of his void world, not blinding but so unbelievable radiant, a glow that pulls him towards your existence like the moon that beckons the tides.

His gaze lingers a bit longer than intended and yet not long enough to satisfy that hunger in his soul. He traced the curve of your form, with a fleeting glance, as you sit at the desk, lost in the pages that stretched out before you. Each turn of the paper is a soft whisper, a delicate flutter that harmonizes with the quiet rhythm of your breath. You are unaware, absorbed in the world between the lines, stories and memories, yet your every movement feels choreographed by the stars themselves—effortless, graceful, like a long lost dream.

Sebastian watches, mesmerized by the way your fingers brush the edges of the book, gentle as if you hold something precious. The faint light spills across your skin, casting a soft halo that wraps around you, an ethereal glow that seems to exist for his eyes alone. In the stillness, you are his celestial body, his guiding star, unknowingly illuminating the vast, shadowed corners of his heart.

Even the way you tilt your head, lost in thought, feels like the subtle pull of gravity, drawing him closer, though he remains in the quiet distance. He wonders if you can feel the way the air shifts around him, how it hums with the silent longing he tries to contain deep inside him. You are his solace, his steady beacon in a sea of darkness, and though you are unaware of his gaze, every part of you seems to call to him, softly and irresistibly.

The way your voice wrapped around his name sent a shiver down his spine, a sensation as delicate as the brush of sunlight after a long storm. "Oh, Sebastian," you had said, and it was as if the very air he breathed had shifted, softened, warmed. There was a tenderness in your words, a gentleness that seemed to cradle him, filling the empty spaces inside his chest.

Your voice, like the wind, swept through the quiet room, curling around him in invisible tendrils, soothing, comforting, and undeniably real. If sound could embrace, then surely this was the closest he'd ever come to feeling human warmth drenched in love. It enveloped him, like the gentle embrace of arms he longed to know. Each syllable lingered in the air, thick with sweetness, as though the very essence of your being flowed through the sound, leaving a trail of honey in its wake.

"Dreaming as always," you teased, your words lilting in a way that felt like a dance. "You surely got your head in the clouds." And oh, how right you were. He was far beyond the realm of mortals, his thoughts soaring high, lost among the stars you unknowingly filled his world with. His heart, caught in the sheer comfort of your presence, was suspended somewhere between the heavens and earth, weightless, adrift. You were not just the pull that grounded him, but the entire sky he yearned to float within, a cosmic force that kept him both dreaming and awake at the very same time.

He smiled faintly, helpless under your spell, for every word you spoke was like stardust falling gently into his soul, filling the dark spaces with light. You had no idea of the gravity you held over him, how your voice alone shaped his universe, a melody that kept him tethered to you, even as his mind wandered through galaxies made entirely of you.

Time passed, yet not a single day saw Sebastian’s love fade or waver. It flowed endlessly, like the ceaseless currents of the ocean, drenching you with his quiet, unwavering devotion. His love became a part of him, woven into the very fabric of his being, shaping every thought and action. He was ready to forsake even the simplest of pleasures, content to immerse himself entirely in the depths of your existence. Every movement, every breath, every word he spoke seemed to carry your name, a silent vow of his love that coursed through him like water through the veins of the sea.

"Hold still," he mumbled softly, his voice barely more than a whisper, soothing and gentle. There was no command in it, just a quiet reminder as he held the sharp silver needle between his large, grey fingers. The metal gleamed faintly in the light of his glowing lure, casting soft reflections across the water. He carefully threaded a piece of red string through the needle’s eye, makeshift and fragile, yet it was all he had. The first aid kits he’d scavenged from the Blacksite over time had long run dry, leaving him with no choice but to use whatever he could find.

Your arm lay before him, a deep gash marring the skin, crimson blood flowing down in slow rivulets, like rain sliding down a windowpane. It pooled on the floor below, dark and heavy in the water. Sebastian’s chest tightened as he worked with quiet precision, his fingers moving deftly, though the sight of your blood filled him with a deep ache.

He wished for better tools, for a world where you would never be hurt, where his hands wouldn't have to stitch your wounds with makeshift threads. But this was the Blacksite, where even tenderness had to survive in the cold, unforgiving depths.

His focus was entirely on you, though he remained silent. He didn’t want you to feel the weight of his worry, the way his heart clenched with every drop of blood that spilled. His touch was steady, careful, as if you were more precious than anything else in this forsaken place. And to him, you were.

Painter’s digital face flickered on the nearby navipath screen, his expression shifting to something indescribable—an emotion too complex for mere pixels to convey, especially on this tiny screen next to the door. He observed Sebastian with a silent intensity, studying the careful way his grey fingers moved as he worked on you. His glowing eyes flickered, tracing the delicate thread being pulled through decaying skin, before his gaze settled on you—on what was left of you.

Sebastian had become a creature of instinct, driven by something darker, something primal. He had torn through the dark halls of the Blacksite with a violence so raw, so brutal, that it left no room for mercy. Mere Limbs were shredded, layers of soft flesh ripped apart as if it were nothing more than paper beneath his hands. Deep crimson blood had flowed like rivers, drenching the cold metallic floors in a sea of red. The stench of rotting bodies clung to the air, thick and suffocating. He had bathed the Blacksite in death, and yet it was never enough.

He needed more.

Your body, once divine, had begun to rot so long ago. The soft skin of your face, once untouched by time, had long since withered away. Maggots crawled through what remained, eating away at your remaining existing flesh that had shriveled up and lost its radiant color, but Sebastian couldn't see it. Or perhaps he refused to. His eyes, dark and hollow in that shade of blue, only saw the memory of you—the beauty you once held, the light you once gave him. He couldn't bear to lose it.

So, he had followed in Urbanshade’s footsteps. He had learned, in the most twisted way, to preserve you. Piece by piece, he replaced what decayed, ripping parts from the bodies he’d slaughtered, stitching them together with thread, with force, with desperation so solid that it became the foundation of his delusion. He practiced, over and over, perfecting the art of sewing until murder became a ritual, a divine act of art in his mind in the name of creation.

Sebastian Solace had turned the Blacksite into his own cathedral of carnage, a place where death and love were inseparable. He had twisted his devotion into something monstrous, into a grotesque form of art where your body, patched and stitched together from the remains of his victims, was his only masterpiece. His love for you had become a relentless hunger, one that consumed him as completely as it had consumed the bodies he tore apart to keep you whole.

And still, he sat by your side, gently stitching, as if he were mending something sacred.

„Sebastian. They are gone.“

Sebastian’s gaze lingered on you, taking in your once delicate features, trying to grasp at the fading remnants of what you had been. But the longer he bathed in your presence, the more your appearance twisted and warped, a grotesque distortion of the memory he clung to. The rosy tint that had once colored your cheeks was gone, replaced by the sickly pallor of decaying flesh. Your skin, that soft, precious surface he had adored, was now peeling, hanging in ragged strips from your bones, exposing raw, festering meat underneath.

His heart quickened, the rhythm erratic as his mind scrambled for answers that weren't there. Where was the gentle glow in your eyes, the light that had once held him captive? Instead, hollow, sunken sockets stared back at him, their emptiness filled only with the dull sheen of rot. The stench of death clung to you, thick and nauseating, wrapping itself around him, filling his lungs with each breath until the taste of it settled heavy on his tongue.

The skin he had so tenderly sewn was slipping, the stitches frayed and torn, unable to hold together the decomposing mass that had once been you. His hands twitched, instinctively reaching for the needle and thread, desperate to fix it, to make you whole again. But no matter how many times he stitched, how many bodies he tore apart to replace the rotting parts, it was never enough. Your flesh, his precious masterpiece, was slipping away from him.

He could see the maggots now, squirming and writhing beneath the layers of your skin, feasting on what remained. The sight turned his stomach, but he couldn’t look away. He needed to save you—needed to preserve what little of you was left. Yet, the more he tried, the more your body melted into something unrecognizable, a grotesque nightmare that mocked his every attempt at salvation.

He broke like glass and died inside from a pain that couldn't be described with words. In the endless blue eyes were a deep reflection of total confusion as all traces of emotional warmth has left his body. Seconds passed, then minutes and somehow he wasn't sure if life really continued in that moment.

“I tried to eat them,” Sebastian whispered, his voice hollow, as if the confession carried no weight anymore, just a haunting echo in the stagnant air. He hovered above the floor, eyes tracing the dark puddle of blood mixed with filthy water beneath him. His reflection stared back, twisted and ghostly in a liquid that wasn’t even yours.

“After they died... I tried to eat their flesh to preserve them,” he continued, almost as if speaking to himself, his words barely audible. His gaze remained fixed on the pool as if searching for something—an answer, perhaps, or absolution. “I started with their neck... I remember, they loved it when I kissed their neck.”

His hand drifted to his mouth, his voice trembling, though his face remained eerily calm. “I sunk my teeth into the cold flesh... tasted the first drop of blood. I pulled at it, gently tearing away the skin, chewing it like it was some delicate meal. But all I tasted was metal—cold, bitter metal.”

His fingers twitched, reaching out to stroke the grotesque, rotting leg of the decaying mass that sat slumped in the chair, a body that barely resembled what it once had been. Painter, from his place on the screen, watched in silent horror as Sebastian caressed the flesh with disturbing tenderness, as if even now he could find traces of the beauty he once loved.

“It wasn’t like them," he muttered, his voice growing softer, more distant. "It wasn’t what they were. All I could taste was death. Cold, tasteless, soulless death.”

His hand trembled as it slid down the decayed limb, his eyes glazed over, lost in the memory. “But I kept eating... trying to find them in the flesh, in the blood. I devoured piece after piece, convinced that somewhere in the rot, they still existed. And then I woke up.”

His voice cracked, the weight of his confession finally settling in. “And I realized, I had tainted their beauty.”

He paused, staring at the ruin before him, his body still, his mind racing. “I wanted them back. So I began sewing. Stitching them together piece by piece. Everything I ate, I replaced. Everything I destroyed, I repaired. I cut away what was lost, what had withered. And everything that was them... everything that had been theirs... I loved.”

His fingers traced the jagged edges of the sewn flesh, a twisted mockery of the love he once held for you. In his mind, he had preserved you, kept you alive, bound to him through his grotesque ritual. But in the quiet shadows of the Blacksite, all that remained was a macabre testament to his obsession—a reflection of the madness that had consumed him.

And Painter realized, Sebastian is still utterly in love with you.

[starlightazriel]

nerdy school girl x popular boy az au

this is a one shot but it might turn into something more if y'all want it to

warnings: smut, fighting parents, oral f receiving, talk of drug addiction, cherry popping, sophomore x senior, self harm mentioned

masterlist

wc: 4.4k

The bell rang, and here I was. Biology. No one next to me. The only one without a lab partner. I couldn't say that I blamed them. Who would want to sit next to me? And if they did the only reason I could think of was that I would do all of the work for them.

The first day of sophomore year, another step closer to college, to freedom. Though, it wasn't the parties or even finally losing my virginity that interested me. My college appeal was different than my classmates, I simply wanted a quiet place to study away from my parents constant arguments. I was sure they wouldn't last much longer once I was off to college, I imagined that I was the last bit of glue holding them together. I doodled on my notebook while the teacher drawled on about the syllabus and what we would be covering for the semester, and what would be expected of us in the class.

"Azriel, how nice of you to join us, please take a seat, and lets try not to make a habit out of being late this year," the teachers break in his long, rather boring speech caused my head to snap up. A blush crept on my cheeks when my eyes met with the senior boy he was speaking to, and I realized he was heading straight for the only empty seat left. Next to me. I scooted over a bit even though it wasn't necessary and pulled all of my things to my side of the table, I knocked a book off the table, quickly picking it up, my cheeks burned brighter at the distraction. Luckily the teacher didn't comment.

It wasnt like I didn't know who he was everyone knew who Azriel was after the stunt that he had pulled last year at the homecoming football game, he somehow managed to have 'Starview High Football Team Sucks Cock' plastered on every electric billboard in the football stadium.

As a result, the entire football team and cheerleading team and their supporters cast him out socially from their personal groups as one of the burnouts, though somehow he still had all their respect to some degree or maybe they just needed to buy pot from him. I didn't know. much about the extracurricular activities that most of my classmates seemed to participate in, but I had heard from the grape vine that he was suspended toward the end of last year for selling pills and weed out of his locker. He was absolutely gorgeous in the most dangerous kind of way, tall, dark hair, mesmerizing hazel eyes, tattoos, muscular in a way different than the other boys, mysterious scars on his hands and arms, the tattoos snaked over them rather poetically... I held my breath for a moment when he slunk down in his chair. His cologne mixed with the smell of stale cigarettes and weed tickled my nostrils. It wasn't as unpleasant as I would have imagined. I knocked my pen off of the table trying to make even more space for him it rolled under his chair and I silently cursed myself for being so clumsy, he didn't say anything, just picked it up and placed it on my side.

His uniform was wrinkled, sleeves pushed up to his elbows revealing his tattoos, and scars, he didn't wear the same loafers as most of the boys, skate shoes instead, how cliche. I wondered where the scars had come from, most of the school had whispered about cutting but anyone could tell that those scars were from something much more serious than cutting oneself.

Azriel didn't say anything, for the entirety of the class, or even look in my direction, I stole glances when I could. I had a feeling I would be doing most of the work on the joint projects, that I was used to. I didn't mind it either, it was a distraction from the constant chaos that seemed to fill my house. When the bell rang, I got to my feet, gathering all my things. "You any good at biology, butterfingers?" Azriel spoke, rising to his feet. I had to turn my head around once to confirm that he was in fact speaking to me. My face burned at the nickname, I silently cursed myself again for letting my stuff fall earlier.

"Yes," I nod stupidly, my eyes finally meeting his, they were twinkling with amusement which only made me blush more deeply.

"Good, this time I have to pass. Or I won't graduate," and that was it, he just walked away after that, leaving me there watching after him. I quickly snapped out of it, hoping that next time I could say something besides just yes. I had zero experience speaking to boys, not that Azriel was someone I would ever seriously speak to, not that he was someone that would ever even give me so much as a second look if I wasn't his lab partner until December.

-

Azriel didnt show up for class every day, many days he would show up late with some note from the office excusing him. I never asked him any questions, though, I was beginning to get annoyed because some days, we needed a partner and I was stuck playing both sides, the teacher had stupidly praised me saying that I was lucky that I was so smart and could handle both roles considering I got an imaginary lab partner as he had begun referring to Azriel. He had come in late again today, though I was grateful he had at least decided to show up considering the teacher was going to be explaining our first project as we approached the end of the first quarter.

"You know," I say, pushing my safety goggles up a bit on my nose, they kept sliding since my glasses were in the way. "In order to pass a class, you have to show up," I say quietly, his eyes snapped to me, and he studied my face, we never spoke unless it was necessary for the class, so this was new.

"Im here now, aren't I, butterfingers?" he asks, leaning back in his seat, glancing up at the ceiling before looking back at me. My nose wrinkled at the nickname, he never even bothered to learn my real name, probably didn't even care. He must have heard it by now, I raised my hand often in class to answer questions that no one else volunteered for.

"Well yes but-" I was cut off by the teacher who began to explain to us what was required of the lab project we needed to complete. Presentation in front of the class, working on it with our partner outside of school, no big deal just the bane of my very existence. When he was finished explaining and we were cleaning up after our lap, I glanced over at Azriel. "Can we do the project at your house?" I ask, I always went to the other persons house, I didn't have friends over, at least I hadn't in years. Not that I had many friends to invite. over. He raised an eyebrow.

"I don't usually have people from school over," he admitted and shrugged his shoulders, my stomach twisted.

"Okay, we can do it at mine," I said quietly and cursed myself for being such a damn push over. "Uh, when?" I ask, part of me hoped maybe he wouldn't even show up to help, it wouldn't be the first time I did a presentation on my own, and would he really be any help anyway?

"Thursday, after school?" he asks, I nod slowly, gathering my stuff together again. "I'll come at five?"

"Yeah, that works," I shove my notebook into my backpack before quickly scribbling my phone number down on a piece of scrap paper and I hand it to him. "So you can get the address," I clarify, clearing my throat, it felt suddenly hot again.

-

It was about 5:24pm when Azriel finally arrived at her house. He had returned home and changed first, now wore some sweatpants and a tshirt. He hated the uniforms they were required to wear. He was only late because he had walked, it was a pleasant evening and he didn't mind the walk, he did have a car, his past 3 years of high school he had been stacking cash under the floor boards in his room just waiting for the right opportunity to leave his drug addicted father. Dealing drugs and pot to his fellow students had come easily to him, apparently his appearance matched the job.

He stood on her very clean and put together door step with a bag of chips in his hand as he waited for someone to come to the door. It was a complete smoke show who did. Her mother was tall unlike her, wore a tight fitted dress right out of desperate housewives and an apron that was tied tightly around her waist. She looked Azriel up and down as many women did, they couldn't seem to resist their natural instincts, he couldn't blame them, he knew he was attractive. Despite the scars he had from his father's abuse, he knew how good he looked to women. He politely greeted her and couldn't even step inside before butterfingers came running down the stairs, appearing behind her mother, he knew her name, he just preferred butterfingers, and the way it made her blush before him every single time.

"We can work on it in my room," she says quickly and points back to the stairs. Her father glances up from his newspaper, grunts quietly and looks back down at it. As we walked up the stairs Azriel could hear him grumbling something to his wife along the lines of 'are we really going to let that boy up into our daughter's room.' In response Azriel only smirked a little bit as he followed her up the stairs. Her room was very girly, soft, baby pink and white, a tv, a desk, a beanbag, a queen sized bed with a pink quilted duvet and many pillows, a collection of childhood stuffed animals hung from a small netted hammock from the ceiling.

"Nice place you got here, butterfingers," he says as he follows her into her room, plopping himself down on the bed. She blushes, naturally, it seemed like she always did in his presence. "Thank you," she says quietly and sits beside him, her laptop on her lap. That's when he really noticed her, soft beautiful jaw, full lips, big doe eyes hidden behind those thick rimmed glasses... And her body, soft curves, peaked nipples under the tank top that she was wearing, sleep shorts that had ridden up as she sat down, it didn't leave much to his imagination at all. It had been about 45 minutes listening to her ramble on about the subject and the plans for their presentation, Azriel didnt help much, though he tried his best. "Can I ask you something?" he finally says, he didn't get how he hadn't noticed her at school the way the he did here, she lifts her eyes from the computer screen, meeting his and blushing. "Yes?" she asks quietly, her breath seeming to get caught in her throat at his stare.

"Why are you so quiet at school? You're rather brilliant," he says the last part a little more quietly, he wasn't exactly known for dishing out compliments aside from the usual sexy and hot. Here in her room, vulnerable, hair down, cheeks and chest flushed pink she was practically the definition of both of those things, in a more innocent kind of way than most of his female classmates.

"I just..." she looks away again, she couldn't handle his eyes on her the way they were, it caused a burning deep within her, one she only recognized from reading cliche blockbuster books like twilight or fifty shades of grey. "Im shy, I always have been," she mumbled, focusing on the project again, if he wasn't mistaken, her fingers shook just a little bit on the keyboard, she couldn't be this nervous just under his gaze, could she?

"Well you know what they say about the shy ones, don't you?" his voice dropped again at the last two words, he felt like the air between them was becoming thick, a tension he was sure she didnt recognize. Her cheeks burned an even deeper red and she shifted in her seat, she opened her mouth to say something but quickly closed it at the sound of her parents arguing downstairs.

"Not even one day can they shut their fucking mouths," she slammed the laptop shut and rose to her feet quickly, tossing it almost carelessly aside on the bed. Azriels brows rose in surprise at her cursing, that was new. He watched her tight little ass as she practically stomped to the other side of her room, slamming her door with intention and she just stood there a moment, he back facing him. She whirled around, their eyes meeting again. "Im- Im sorry about that," she breathed out, stumbling a bit over her words, he could feel the shift in the room. It was like it became so much smaller, the thickness in the air, just the sounds of them breathing, watching each other. She was blushing profusely, fidgeting with the strings of her shorts nervously. "This.. This is why I wanted to do it at your house, we'll just have to ignore them," she averted her gaze, snapping out of the sexual stare they had both been giving each other just a moment ago.

He wanted to ask more questions, ask if it was like this often, if it bothered her. Azriel could sympathize with her, though his toxic home situation was undoubtedly much worse than hers, he knew what it was like to not feel as comfortable as you should somewhere that should be a home. "You've been teaching me this whole time," he knew that he was in control of the situation here, he knew he could change how the night ended, he knew he could leave here with her feeling absolutely blissful, barely even remembering that her parents were downstairs. He didnt know why he wanted to do that for her, she was just a girl, one of the wallflowers that blended in and did everything they possibly could to disappear. "I think maybe, I should teach you something now, could be a good break... A good distraction," his voice had dropped lower, became raspy with desire. It was like a porno scene, the tension, the cliche, he could see the headline in his mind 'bad boy devours virgin school girl cunt.' The thought of the two of them possibly tangled in her sheets within the next half hour made him blush now, he shifted, fixing his pants to hide his growing erection. Her eyes followed his every move, it was like he could hear her heart racing from across the room.

"Okay," her voice was barely a whisper, and her pretty little white teeth slid over her pouty lower lip and she bit down softly. Azriel grinned triumphantly, patting the spot next to him on her bed. She walked slowly over to her bed, swallowing hard, her mind was racing, was this really happening? It felt like one of those books she had read, exciting, dangerous. She sat down beside him just as slowly as she had walked over, her heart raced in her chest as he turned slightly toward her and brushed a piece of her hair behind her ear, she shivered at the touch, warmth filling her belly and spreading.

"You might be fooling everyone else," he says gruffly and reaches up with both of his hands slowly pulling off her thickly rimmed glasses, she blinked twice, her eyes adjusting, she could see him easily anything beyond just a few feet in front of her became blurred. "But with me, you can't hide, I see you," he lips his lips hungrily causing her to part hers, she sucked in a small breath, her heart completely pounding in her chest. She hadn't given much thought to how she would lose her virginity, she never thought it would happen before college though, the air in the room, the things that were happening, the way she felt inside... It seemed to be headed in that direction. He leaned over her to place the glasses on her night stand, their breaths mingled, noses almost touching as he did, he used the same hand and slid his fingers over the back of her neck, earning a shiver, before he tilted her head back, pulling her even closer. Then, he kissed her, causing her entire body to melt into a puddle of nothing beneath him.

Her first kiss. Her hands were limp in her lap but soon squeezed into fists as his tongue glided over her lip, begging for an entrance. Alarm bells rang in her head, she didnt know what she was doing, she was going to make herself look like an idiot. She couldn't pull away, it felt way too good. He deepened the kiss, his other hand brushing over her arm before finding her waist, his large hand covering it, thumb pressing lightly into her ribcage, a little moan escaped her lips, she ignored the embarrassment, she couldn't help it. She had only read about this, seen it in movies, never had she imagined that it would feel like this.

Azriel kissed her jaw and up her neck until his lips were just by her ear. "Can I keep going?" his voice is husky and warm, the sound travelled through her bones making her melt even more, she could feel slick wet heat in her underwear. Azriel knew it, he knew what kind of effect he had, he was starting to ache for her. He was aching to show her everything that he could do, aching to watch her let go and forget about everything and just let him take her. But he wouldn't do it until she relaxed, he could feel her nerves radiating off of her.

"Ive never done this before," she breathed out, he slid his fingers up, placing his hand on her chest where he could feel her heart hammering. "I know," he said softly, it wasnt hard to tell, he was sure a boy hadn't ever even entered this room. "But I promise, if you let me... I'll make you feel so good you won't even remember they are here," her breath hitched at his words and she only nodded, quickly, "teach me," she whispers and it was all he needed to hear. Before she knew it Azriel was on his knees in front of her, he pulled her closer to the edge of the bed, and sat back on his heels inspecting her for just a moment before he lifted on of her legs slowly kissing the inside of her thigh, all the way down to her ankle he slowly peeled the sock off and pressed a kiss to the sole of her foot, she gasped and fell back onto her elbows looking down at him with shock and arousal. He only smiled, repeating the same on her other leg and foot.

Take your time Az. A voice echoed in his head when he quietly cursed at the sight before him, he had pulled off her sleep shorts revealing cotton panties, completely soaked through. Her cheeks were blazing as she looked down at him with curiosity and lust, her chest rising and falling quickly, nipples poking through the delicate tank top. He couldn't remember the last time he was this turned on, this was more arousing than the time last year he had taken Mrs. Abott in the janitor closet during the school assembly. "Damn you're beautiful," he mumbled, wrapping his fingers around the outside of her thighs and puling her even closer. He pressed his face into the wet cotton fabric, causing her to moan quietly, her back arching into the touch.

"That feels so good," she managed to choke out as he slowly dragged his tongue up and down the wet fabric, licking her through her soaked panties.

"I know," he said back gruffly against her before sucking hard through the fabric causing her to cry out, her hand flying to her mouth to cover it. He chuckled softly before sliding his fingers up and slowly pulling her panties off. "It gets better?" he groaned quietly at the sight of her perfect little pussy, his mouth watering, it was like he could already taste her. She seemed to be at a loss for words as she watched him, lips parted slightly, face flushed with arousal and embarrassment as she was bared to him. He wanted to tell her the last thing she needed to be, with a body like this, was shy, but instead he simply used his thumbs on either side to spread her pussy slightly open and he leaned down pressing a soft kiss to her center. She moaned again, encouraging him farther.

Azriel licked around her whole sex, causing her to whimper and squirm beneath him, her hands gripping her duvet beside her. He kept his hands where they were, keeping her slightly spread in front of him before he dipped his tongue into the pool of wetness and licked all the way to the top, circling his tongue around the bundle of nerves there. He could tell she almost came right there and then. "You taste so good, butterfingers," he chuckled quietly against her before dipping his tongue back down, curling it up inside her as his nose pressed to her clit. Her back arched off of the bed again and she pulled at the duvet covers, her breasts popping out of the top of the tank top, he moaned against her at the sight of her pretty pink nipples peaked in the air. He drew his head back again, not taking his eyes off of her, he kept one hand on her inner thigh, thumb still holding her pussy open for him, the other hand slid up her body and he gently rolled her nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

She moaned quietly again, all control she had over her body completely gone, her hips bucked and he held her down, completely devouring her, savoring every last drop as she cried out quietly in pleasure and he softly licked her as she rode out her release. His hands slid down, resting on the top of her thighs and he sat back a bit on his heels, admiring her. She was looking down at him with such shock and surprise, lips and cheeks flushed, panting softly, pussy still throbbing.

"If you let me, I'll keep going," he says wincing a little bit as he stands up, the friction of his erection in his pants becoming almost painful. She didnt say anything, she only nodded quickly a small gasp escaping her lips as he pulled his shirt off from the bottom. He was muscular, tattoos everywhere, golden skin, deep v disappearing into his pants. He tugged his pants off, his long thick erection slapping his stomach as he did, her eyes widened, blush deepening. She couldn't believe this was happening, and really neither could he. She was too damn perfect, too damn soft and innocent untainted it almost felt like a crime to take her especially when he knew how young women could get attached after their first time and he had no intentions to continue anything after today, there was also the fact that they would be stuck at the same table once a day until December. He picked her up easily, pushing her farther up onto the bed until her head hit her pillow, and then he was over her.

His breath was hot and heavy, their faces almost touching. "Are you sure you want to do this?" he checks one more time, looking into her eyes, looking for any hesitation there, he saw only nerves and excitement. "Yes," she breaths out not shying away from his eyes this time. Azriel let out a small moan, looking down at her body, her tank top was now bunched underneath her breasts, the straps hanging at the sides. He bent his head down, taking time sucking n each one of her peaked nipples, causing her to arch her back up into his body again, the feeling of their skin together drove him mad.

Azriel reached down between them sliding his tip over her entrance before slowly sliding half of himself inside, he cursed and moaned softly, eyes not leaving her face. "You okay?" he breathes out, forcing himself to still a moment, she nods before he slides the rest of himself into her, filling her all the way up. She gasped, her eyes widening as she looked up at him, he grabbed the headboard, his other hand on the bed beside her. "Feel good?" he asks softly, slowly rocking in and out of her, he would have to hold back, she was so damn tight and wet... It wasn't the first virginity he had taken, but he couldn't help but think that this was the best pussy he had ever had.

"Y-yes," her voice cracks a little, her breaths extremely heavy, chest rising and falling quickly underneath him. "Oh yes," she says again as his pace quickens a bit, he gripped her hips tilting her a bit so he could get that spot and she cried out again, this time he covered her mouth, losing himself a bit too, forgetting where he was. His eyes were dark with lust and focus, his lip pulled between his teeth as he watched her come undone again beneath him. "Fuck," he cursed, pulling himself out just before he came spilling his contents all over her stomach and he collapsed next to her on the bed, breathing heavily, his body glistening with sweat. "Thank you- um for that..." she whispers awkwardly, the magnitude of the situation probably sinking in for her.

"Thank you, for letting me be your first," he grins lazily, his arm tucked behind his head. "Now.... Project?" he asks, her laptop was still on the bed, he was half on it now, amazingly it hadn't fallen on the floor.

"Oh, right," she swallows hard and uses the tank top she had been wearing to clean off her stomach, Azriel simply couldn't take his eyes off of her. He wondered to himself if he would have the self control to keep his hands off at school.

-

update it turned into more than a one shot see master list for additional parts

a/n don't copy my shit lol thank youuu <3 is it weird that I switched to third person half way through? was kind of just messing around with this one but if another part is wanted hmu ill get to it. lmk what y'all think xxxxxxxxxx

[stari-hun]

The Atlas : Scrapbook

The tone of the captions within the Atlas imply that narrator for them has a level of omniscience the newest one doesn’t have (1.4 patch and onwards).

[In Our Time], “The apostles got closer without making a sound. The apostles of heaven roared as the light shone through the hole. Many saw me off. It's time to make a choice.”

The text shows dialogue similar to a persons thought process, it's not similar to anyone who's present in the scene besides Druvis iii herself, but it is something she could've thought at another time. The CG here illustrates as Druvis iii fights our main characters. But it also shows the possible common thread/theme for reaching Insight 2. My theory is that Insight 2 is the peak of a character's power and introspection into themselves. In this scene she shows a Manus version of her Insight 2 outfit when she had chosen her path in life out of bitterness towards humans, and to go back in the Storm with the Manus. In 2.6 after seeing the Rowan twig still had a will to continue on underneath it's charring, Druvis iii decided to do the same and join Vertin to stop the Storm. This also shows the nature of people within the Manus as a whole as well, and how they can be people who started off friendly to arcanists then becoming a danger to them when they don't align to their own views.

[Tender Is the Night] shows the caption “What are these to those humans? I'm sure I'm not the only one who's curious.” It connects the conversation between Vertin and the Manus while directly relates to the scene happening at Sotheby’s house. It’s a nod to the [Player], directly addressing us as they mention Manus isn’t the only one curious about what humans truly value.

[Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien], “This is not even a punishment for her.”

The starting scene in Book 3, [Nouvelles et Textes pour Rien], shows Vertin's attitude and personality as a child. The entire book shows the reader and audience how she was apathetic towards authority, and unlike her peers (Matilda, Mesmer Jr, and most importantly, Sonetto) she didn't follow authority without reason. She follows Madam Z and Tooth Fairy because they helped her, and we see Tooth Fairy allude to on many occasions how she became a close adult figure to Vertin. Alongside Madam Z, they were the guiding forces in her childhood while teaching her how to be a functional person. We learn the most about Vertin's personality in this book, and in the opening scene as the first thing the book decides to show us about her is that silent isolation time isn't a punishment to her.

[El Oro de los Tigres], “Through the flourishing vines and leaves, people finally remember where she comes from.”

This is where we first see Druvis iii's insight 2 form after her leaving the Manus and her decision to live for the future. The text references Druvis's own dialogue and the manner she speaks in, but also references how Constantine talked about Vertin's group of refugee arcanists. Referencing how Constantine had referred to them as unenlightened and unrestrained arcanists behind her back before Druvis and the others proved how "unstable" arcanists truly are. Lilya also showed this nature in the chapter as she broke Vertin out of Laplace, notably as Mesmer Jr had a panic attack from the outburst of violence, the caption from [The Atlas] shows how arcanists are liberated by the use of their power.

Book 5, [The Prisoner in the Cave] captions “Cast off your shell, enter the silence. The answer you seek is within reach.”

The caption from [The Atlas] here mentions the answer Vertin seeks is within her reach, but not the truth. The answer to why the island was shrouded in mystery as well as the mysterious rules being enforced by arcane creatures, but not the truth behind the Storm.

[ca-suffit]

did you see that article from a journalist who was praising season 2 but never once mentioned assad zaman. his name simply doesnt appear in the entire article. and delaine hayles gets literally tossed in in only one sentence. i am so sick of how the general audience and big publications treat this show and the non white actors, i am just done.

Oh ya, the one that puts his photo on the article cover but doesn't mention him at all by name.

full text if u don't want to click

‘Interview with the Vampire’

The latest resurrection of Anne Rice’s soul-shaking gothic novel continued to pull off small miracles in Season 2, delivering more exquisite melodrama through the most self-possessed vampiric finger-pointing ever put on prestige television. Capitalizing on the instant chemistry we’d already seen oh-so-formidably established between Jacob Anderson’s Louis de Pointe du Lac and Sam Reid’s Lestat de Lioncourt — as cunningly framed by Eric Bogosian’s titular inquirer, Daniel Molloy — the sophomore installments of “Interview with the Vampire” culminated in one of the year’s best episodes before an equally satisfying finale that suggested its own answer when asking, “Did you hurt yourself?”

Showrunner Rolin Jones has long had viewers in a chokehold with his show’s overt casting genius (still no small feat in the wake of the beloved 1994 film), and he made not just good but gold on the promise of Anderson and Reid’s crackling connection with a taut he said-he said that quietly healed nearly 50 years of tortured readership with its algebraic climax and very literary conclusion. Not for wont of bloody spectacle, “IWTW” Season 2 resulted in a poetic reunion that saw two of TV’s most mesmeric performers staring into each other’s depths for a masterclass in narrative table setting. It’s also a spectacular ode to indulgent theatricality and performance that seriously considers the complexities of trauma, abuse, and time with finesse. Toss in the remarkably successful recasting of Claudia (well done, Delaine Hayles!) and AMC’s flagship dark romance remains a testament to the everlasting pull of the angst-ridden undead… and Rice’s continually bewitching universe of feeling, of course. —AF

[dasozelotvonnebenan]

Hey so a bird came to me and whispered in my ear... it says I *really* want to know more about your magic headcanons! Strange coincidence isn't it?

No but for real, your worldbuilding ideas are always so thorough and well thought-through, I'd love to hear more!

I have not slept yet so this might not be readable idk. This is half developed from a rp angle and half from a "how do I make x ingame skill work in this system" angle, which is why I both talk about how ingame classes don't really apply but also quote specific skills. Enjoy your read.

Okay so cast spells you need three things: Aptitude, Association and A Focus. You can work with one of them missing but the other two have to work overtime to compensate.

Aptitude

Aptitude defines what kind of magic naturally comes easy for you. This is not always easy to determine, and it is not unusual to find one kind of magic you are decent at and never find out there's others that are even easier for you. Many cases of of people who "Just don't have a talent for magic" just never happened to try out the kind they would be good at. Maybe because they wanted to practice a specific kind of magic and found out they suck at it, maybe because their Aptitude lies in an area that is rarely practiced by their culture.

Aptitude lies on a spectrum, kind of like light but with several axes and doubling back on itself. See elementalists and necromancers both using ice, teleportation, etc.. The classes focus around one particular area of this spectrum but overlap in many areas and are thus mostly arbitrary distinctions (as proven by many of the elite specs mixing things up).

There is also some variation in how specific one's Aptitude is. Some people only have a very small range, while for others it might be a more gradual decrease.

Some examples from my characters: Aerana is a excellent air elementalist, she can wield air magic effortlessly enough that she regularly skips using a focus entirely (we will get to that part) however anything else, even just other elemental magic, requires significantly more effort and concentration for her. Ruck on the other hand is also in game terms an elementalist, but can easily work with all of the elements, and even occasionally dips into areas more closely associated with mesmer and thieves. (again those assosiations are no hard borders)

Foci and Association Chains

Having a natural predisposition only brings you so far. What really distinguishes a powerful mage is the training.

Casting spells requires concentration and a clear vision of what you wish to achieve. For this purpose there are two tools the tyrian mage has access to.

The association chain helps visualise what you want your spells to do. You start with something physical in your surrounding, ideally an object your are very familiar with (a focus) and find images, emotions or similar you associate with the object, and then you go from that image in small steps to the effect your spell is going to have.

For example: You are pursuing someone and want them to stop running away. You grab your trusty knife and concentrate. The knife is a precise instrument, you only want to exert a small force where it is necessary. You remember using this knife to cut up a hare for dinner. You remember cutting through tendons and muscles. You imagine yourself cutting through your targets tendons and hold onto that image as you let the magic flow through your focus. Congratulations, you've just cast Necro Dagger 3

As I have mentioned foci play an important role in starting your association chain. A focus can be any kind of physical object, but there some classics such as the staff (easy to visualise range) or scepter (power or control).

Proper foci and association chains help with precision and speed, but most importantly greatly reduce fatigue.

Association chains can be taught, memorised and practiced, but the most powerful ones are deeply connected to personal experience. Similarly any object can be a focus, but one you have spent time familiarizing yourself with will work better.

Additionally your surroundings obviously impact your ability to follow these association chains as well, especially if you are not following a chain you have memorised by heart. An elementalist might find it harder to conjure flames in a frozen cave, while a guardian might find it easier to project a barrier while manning the walls of a fortress.

Some more examples from my characters: Reevus doesn't usually use his pistol as a focus for his magic. He uses it as a pistol. However, if he for whatever reason doesn't want to injure his target he has learned to knock people unconscious with magic. He had knocked someone out with the handle of his gun once, and he project this memory onto his target. (yes this is pistol 5)

On Ritual Magic

In many ways complex rituals are mostly just more elaborate foci and pre written associations. The difficulty here is to have every participant to concentrate on the same result, thus the complexity.

Coincidentally this is why Grawl worship "any odd statue". Group worship is an easy way to handle this problem. And we see the grawl perform some pretty powerful rituals. They don't worship random things because they're stupid, they worship then because it's a tool.

[rhaenys-queenofkhyrulzz]

You don't understand how feral I am for a Seonhwi Om Shanti Om AU. Hear me out.

If you haven't watched the movie, watch this song here where it explains stuff before you read my fic plan:

Hwi is Om (guy who comes down on the chair) . Seon-ho is Shanti Priya/Sandy (main girl in the mask/girl in the performance). Bang-won is Mukesh (grey suit ponytail guy from the beginning/treacherous man in the performance). Just tell me I'm wrong.

This is a reincarnation story so of you want to understand it in detail, I do recommend you watch the movie first. Now on to the story:

It's the 1977. Colourful clothes and sideburns and slicked back hair and glamour.

Seon-ho is a famous movie star. Hwi is just a regular man of a poorer caste who acts as an extra in films. Can you guess who his idol is? Yeah, it's Nam Seon-ho. Whose poster does he have in his room? Nam Seon-ho. He lives with his sister Yeon and friend Chi-do.

There's a premiere for Seon-ho's new movie that night and Hwi dresses up in his brand new suit to go see him enter the ciniplex. As Seon-ho exits the limo, everyone's eyes are on him, glamorous as always in his navy blue suit and long signature scarf. Hwi is clapping on the other side of the red velvet rope but somehow, the scarf hooks onto his watch. Seon-ho keeps on smiling, walking forward and waving while all Hwi can do is watch mesmerized as he's pulled along.

At the end of the red carpet, Seon-ho finally turns around and sees Hwi behind him. That's the first time they meet. Seon-ho, albeit confused, smiles at Hwi before noticing their point of connection. He unhooks the scarf, their fingers lightly brushing, before turning around and entering the building. Hwi is still standing there awestruck by the time a security guard (aka my bby Sung-rok) moves him away. Later that night, a drunk Hwi makes a speech to his friend Chi-do maybe idolising Seon-ho a bit more than what was entirely just straight admiration. (Bro should I make this an omegaverse au??? For some reason I think that'd make this have more depth. Okay, yeah it's an omegaverse au now. Hwi is a beta and he thinks Seon-ho is too)

Hwi and Seon-ho somehow meet again after that when Hwi is working as an extra in one of Seon-ho's films. There's a fire on set and Hwi jumps into the flames to save him. Afterwards, the two become friends.

Cue bonding and dancing and things going too well for the while. Did I mention the company they're both working under is owned by rich movie producer Bang-won?

Hwi decides to confess his feelings. He goes back to the set that evening but ends up in some back room. There's a vent in there and he can see into the room below. It's Seon-ho's dressing room. Hwi was going to turn away when he saw Bang-won was in there too. He watches transfixed as his world turns upside down.

Seon-ho and Bang-won have been married this whole time. Bang-won, a controlling alpha asshole, is trying to get Seon-ho to star in a new movie but he doesn't want to. Seon-ho tells him that he's pregnant and that he wants to finally just reveal their marriage to the public. Bang-won lashes out saying that no one will ever want to hire a married omega in the film industry ever again and that he has just dug both their graves.

Tears are streaming down Hwi's face as he runs out of the building.

He decides to go back to set a few nights later after dodging Seon-ho's calls to come clean and return a snow globe he'd given him, ending things before he can get hurt further. "It's for the best," he tells himself.

As Seon-ho is waiting outside set, Bang-won comes up to him and calls him inside. They see the grand new ballroom set that they'd created for this next movie. The chandelier sparkles above. Bang-won says that they'll finally reveal their marriage and host a marriage renewal ceremony with press in that set. Seon-ho is overjoyed until Bang-won destroys that illusion that brings reality down on him harshly. He yanks Seon-ho to the stairs and throws him against it, saying that he can't allow Seon-ho to reveal this secret nor can he allow their child to be born. Bang-won throws his still lit cigarette to the ground and the place catches on fire. He walks out and locks the door, leaving Seon-ho in the still burning building to bang on the door, begging to be free. Bang-won tells some goons of his not to let anyone interfere until the building is nothing but ashes.

At this point, Hwi reaches the building sees the flames. He runs to the door and comes face to face with Seon-ho through a small glass panel. They're both crying and trying to get to each other but nothing is working.

Hwi is suddenly pulled backwards by one of Bang-won's thugs. They beat him up and the snow globe goes flying into the water fountain nearby. Seon-ho cries because there's nothing he can do. He watches his (he startlingly realises) beloved get hurt and there's nothing he can do.

The fire gets to such a point where the building explodes. Hwi is thrown down the road, barely clinging to his life. He makes a promise to whichever power up above that if he's reborn, he will use all his assets to take revenge on Bang-won for doing all this.

A car comes up and they stop when they see his still form. The couple inside (Mun-bok and Hwa-wol) are shocked and rush him to the hospital where they were headed regardless since Hwa-wol is in labor.

In one room, they charge the defibrillators. They increase the strength each time, hoping it works. In another, Hwa-wol is groaning as she keeps pushing. The moment Hwi flatlines is the moment her son is born. They name him in honor of the man who met such a horrible end.

30 years later- 2007

Hwi the big movie star wakes up on his birthday with fans screaming for him outside. In this lifetime, he's the son of a hotshot doctor and has had most things handed to him. He's a bit arrogant- huge contrast to the sweet lovable Hwi from his past life.

For his newest movie, they go to an old abandoned set today. It's the burnt down building where superstar Nam Seon-ho's last movie was going to take place. Hwi feels a chill in his spine. He never liked fire. And the place has an odd familiarity to it. He goes over to the fountain and picks up p a broken snow globe.

Suddenly, an old woman is outside screaming "that's my brother! Hwi, please remember me!" Guards have to take her away. Hwi is saddened each time and he can never tell why that woman's presence affects him so.

Fast forward to that night where his dad is hiding a big party for him. Everything is going well until he sees this one man walking towards him and memories start flooding back in of his past life. He remembers everything. He shakes Bang-won's hand and feels sick.

Hwi makes a conscious decision to better himself once he remembers his dying promise. He seeks out the old woman and remembers that it's Yeon. She and Chi-do are overjoyed and help in his revenge plot.

Hwi plans to get closer to Bang-won and gets him to agree to make that one movie with him that changed his fortune forever: Seon-ho's last one that was never shot. At first Bang-won is reluctant but he agrees.

Hwi and team plan to make Bang-won think Seon-ho's spirit has returned to haunt him so they can record his confession and get him to pay for his crimes. They look for actors but none them fit. Until...

One of them is the spitting image of Seon-ho. It's as if that is Seon-ho himself reincarnated. He doesn't remember anything though. He's completely clumsy and acts nothing like the original Seon-ho. But that's okay, they have their star.

It's the big night. They've fixed over the set until it looked brand new and have invited all the press possible. Chi-do and Yeon are in a room with security cameras watching everything go down. Seon-ho puts on his masquerade outfit and one of the old Seon-ho's signature scarfs. Bang-won arrives and Hwi pumps his fist in the air.

The performance goes on and theyre scaring Bang-won but then he turns to leave. Hwi stops him in the nick of time. The song crescendos. Seon-ho's arm got cut on a candelabra and with the blood, Bang won realizes he's being tricked. He runs after Seon-ho who just manages to hide in the security camera room again, but then the door won't get open. He panics because he can't miss his cue or everything will have been for nothing

In the crowd downstairs, a smaller chandelier falls and people run outside screaming. A fire starts and then it's Bang-won and Hwi alone in the burning building.

Hwi reveals that he knows everything and Bang-won laughs saying no one will ever find out. On the grand steps, they see Seon-ho coming towards them. Hwi motions for him to go back but then then realises that it's actually Seon-ho's spirit. Bang-won is scared for real now. Seon-ho's words haunt him as the memories flash before his eyes. Seon-ho tells Hwi how Bang-won returned after the fire had burnt out to bury his burnt, still breathing body under the floor beneath the chandelier.

The fire roars around them and Seon-ho makes the chandelier fall, crushing Bang-won. Tears stream down Hwi's face as he looks at Seon-ho one last time. Seon-ho thanks him and tells him that he loves him too. They both smile and then Seon-ho is disappearing into the light. The fires all extinguish themselves instantly and then the reincarnated Seon-ho Chi-do are running towards him. Hwi hugs Seon-ho as he apologizes for not coming sooner but Hwi only shushes and hugs him tighter.

Hwi later tells the press about Bang-won's crimes and they reveal it to the public, achieving what they set out to do. He and Seon-ho get together and then Seon-ho regains his memories. They confess their love and live happily ever after. The end.

Oh wait. End credits song and dance sequence ofc. But since this is a fic, I'll probs make a soft epilogue.

Now here's another vid to visualize. Same characters as in the first vid

If you made it this far, should I make it an actual fic?

[slytherinlizzy]

HOW DARE YOU DO THIS TO ME

Anyway here's a short story for this headcanon:

!Not entirely plot relevant conversations and actions!____________________

May 28th. The calendar said it's today, on a dark Thursday. Calendars never lie. His phone echoed in silence the same words, and his phone certainly never lies. But Jake... Jake does lie often.

He pushed a few branches away from his face and immediately started typing on his phone again. The cool wind blowing his skin didn't bother him, in fact, it helped to hide the noise he made in the rush.

Jake: Mc, you have to promise me to not go to the mine.

Don't go, because I'm already here. He thought as he finally reached the Grimrock.

Mc: Well someone clearly has to go there, and I'm already in my car, so live with that

Jake always found it mesmerizing how determined Mc can be when it comes to doing whatever she finds good, but this time the habit seemed too stubborn. Too reckless. Too dangerous. He has lost plenty of things in his life; family, identity, freedom, ability to want to feel again, but he didn't want to lose another person. No, not this time. Even if it meant that this very important someone would be the one suffering. Someone would get hurt either way, and Jake was sure he couldn't take it anymore if it were him. Mc, on the other hand... she has much more potential, she would get past it quickly. She has purposes in this life, great purposes, he had to admit. And as selfish as it sounds, he was sick of pain.

Jake: You cannot go there, you understand? We will figure out something.

Mc: And when do you want to do that?? After they are already dead??

She was right; he had to act quickly. Jake fastened his pace and stepped inside. The air felt heavy and old there, suffocating him, but instead of turning around, he went deeper.

That wasn't exactly how he imagined that day, in an old mine about to collapse and arguing with Mc. It had been a long time since he thought about this date like that, even longer when he cared. A few days ago, however, he thought that maybe now it could be different. Perhaps now he can afford to share it with someone, after all he's a person like the others; with private life, childhood, thoughts and birthday.

He planned to tell Mc tonight. In other words, just mention it, he didn't want to... What exactly? To be important? Brag? Distract her from finding Hannah? Maybe. Maybe one of them is true. It could be he wanted to matter a bit...

But it doesn't matter now. All his plans were ruined by the messages from that Unknown person. And the least he will let is Mc go there herself, no matter what. As smart as she is, she sometimes comes up with the worst ideas. Besides, it's his birthday — at least let him have one wish. A wish to solve this mess and keep his beloved out of trouble.

Hannah too, he stopped abdurtly. Free Hannah and Richy, too.

Beloved... Did he really just think that?

His phone kept buzzing crazy. Instead of checking the messages, he muted the notifications and continued his way deeper into the mine, the flaslight casting more and more horrifying shadows everywhere as Jake reached a ladder.

***

The road was slippery and dark; it rained. Mc cursed loudly as she drove through small towns and larger cities, the warmth of the car lights glinting on the wet windshield and puddles. Under other circumstances, she would have enjoyed this time listening to the patter of rain, the rumble of a distant storm, and the sound of cars passing by. She especially liked the roar of the engine. It always made her forget her problems.

Now everything was different though, her heart was beating faster and faster as she glanced down at the speedometer.

"You motherfucker of a car!" Either way she calculated, she couldn't go any faster or she would have an accident before she even reached the Grimrock. And time is hard to beat, especially when the goal is something that's even more expensive than your life.

***

He didn't know how good an idea it was, in fact, he was sure it was a terrible idea, but he climbed it anyway, maybe because according to his map it was the only way to go. The ladder creaked a lot under his weight, which was not very gratefully received by the rungs. Halfway through, one broke, landing with a thud, as Jake would have if he hadn't caught another in time.

He can't die, not yet. Not when he's so close to something more important than his life.

***

He was there. She saw Alan walking around the waterfall, the cars' sirens in the distance and where she needed to go. Mc carefully made her way through the tall plants, with as little noise as possible. Even though that the water hit the ground with a deafening force, it doesn't hurt to be careful.

The man was too busy doing whatever he was doing with his back to her, so Mc easily slipped through the opening. Damp and heavy air, great darkness. Even scarier when you know someone is waiting. And the Unknown person was waiting for her to walk into his arms.

She has to be smart and make sure to find Hannah and Richy first, preferably on a path that looks hidden. And let's face it, it's really hard to do in a fucking mine.

I have to try.

She turned on the flashlight of her phone and walked deeper and deeper, noting the turns.

***

She was there. She ran and ran, far, loudly. Hannah has escaped. Jake was already heading towards the alarmed woman when he heard voices and turned a corner. He leaned against the wall and listened.

"Miss Donfort, come with me now, I'll take you out."

"No, wait–”

The sound of a gun; not a shot, just a knock. Jake peeked out and saw a policeman escorting his sister out with quick steps in the direction he himself had come from. So it's okay, Hannah will be safe soon.

But what is a policeman doing here? He remembered the uniform he had seen, and then involuntarily could only think of one person. Mc, did you seriously call the police?

He would have already turned back to look for another exit, possibly one where he wouldn't run into a policeman, when his legs stopped. He still has to get someone out. Because Richy wasn't with Hannah, and he owes Mc that.

***

There he stood. With his back to her, dressed in black, in the dimly lit place. Mc would have been happy to see him again, the man who was kidnapped with Hannah by The Man Without a Face. She would have been happy, relieved, if only she hasn't found out just five minutes ago, it was him all along.

Richy was The Man Without a Face.

Two people, whom until now she thought were so much the opposite of each other, turned out to be the same. A kind man, whose voice can hardly be heard, and a murderous, psychopathic kidnapper. The irony life has...

Mc, slowly recovering from the earlier shock caused by the conversation and the video chat between Richy and Jessy, slowly but surely started towards him. She got a bad feeling as she approached, didn't know why, but something was wrong. Richy stood there, menacingly still, without moving a muscle. Mc felt her heart in her ears, no longer owner of her own voice, and her breath hitched when she saw him drop something.

Something he shouldn't have.

A lighter.

***

The air grew smoky and Jake sensed that something was very wrong. He ran from one flight to another, searching and hiding at the same time. For the first time in his life, he didn't know what to do, and he was alone. It's ironic to say that when you're playing hide and seek in a mine with a dangerous man and one of his victims.

He increased his steps and felt the heat on his skin. Holding his shirt tighter to his nose, starting in the direction where he already saw the flames of the fire. He knew that it was like running to death, because it was, but he would still lose his remaining freedom outside as well, and Richy had a chance. Jake will point him in the right direction. Then sit down and wait; what for, he didn't even dare to think about himself.

After all, he certainly won't be able to get out, and it won't make sense either.

His ears hurt so much from the blood throbbing in them that he almost didn't hear it. He almost swerved, not in the direction a woman was shouting. A figure was sitting at the base of the wall, another was trying to pull him up; the woman.

The woman.

Mc.

Perhaps Jake has never run so fast in his life, even though he has his fair amounts of escaping from the police. This was different now. He didn't have to save his own life, the stakes were much higher.

"Get up, please get up!" She begged the man in a tearful voice, who just shook his head. When he looked up at Jake, the black haired saw that there was nothing in his eyes. He stepped in front of him and tugged hard on the arm, forcing the blond to stand up unless wanting to fall.

"Look here, she's here because of you, so you're going out now." He looked into the speechless eyes, which were now staring back at him in alarm. He pulled Richy's hoodie up to his nose. "Straight over there, and you only turn left. Up the ladder and keep going until you see flashing lights."

"Quickly, it's spreading fast!"

They sped off, making sure Richy was always ahead of them. The echoes of their feet was thrown around by the walls, as if none of them wanted to keep it. They already saw the ladder and gave Richy a big push to hurry up. The man climbed as far as he could, but the ladder gave up and broke with a loud crack. Just when the two legs disappeared.

"For fuck's sake!" He tried to put it back together somehow, but it was too heavy and rusty; broken beyond use. Jake scanned their surroundings nervously, looking for a way out. "Come on," he turned to Mc, "I'll get you up there, you can reach the other half that way."

"No!" She stared into his eyes, those stubborn, everseeing blue eyes, in which she saw the frightening power of the approaching fire. "You're a complete fool! I'm not going! Can you hear? I'm not going!"

"You are–" He grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the ladder, but Mc wouldn't go. She sat down at the base of the wall and didn't move. Jake could have pulled her up, it wouldn't have been difficult, but there was something final about this movement. So he fell down next to her, now both scrutinizing each other. That's not how he imagined the day, but there was something oddly comforting about it. Maybe it was the acceptance of the approaching end. Until now, he had only imagined what it would be like face to face with the woman, what her voice is like, her eyes, what she's like when she smiles.

And now he already knows.

Mc smiled gently and stroked his smoky face. "Why did you have to come here? Why can't you listen to me once in your life?"

"I could ask you that too."

Small tears rolled down their faces, but they didn't turn away, didn't cover them. They didn't want to waste a single minute without seeing each other.

"You,” she broke into a strong cough, but continued, “you still...why...”

"Because someone had to. And you?"

Mc smiled tearfully. "Because someone had to."

Jake loved the way she looked at him. Only him, and no one else, giving him all her attention, to the last drop. Something heavy broke in his chest — probably his heart — that he could only feel this for such a short time. He wanted to know this woman by his side every day, safe, in his arms, until they were both old, but their eyes didn't change. It is the soul and the eye that never lie.

His soul was whispering loudly to him, but he didn't listen to it, he just watched and absorbed Mc's words as long as he could.

"Once in a lifetime..."

"I know."

"But seriously, you'd only listen to me once."

He smiled slyly, and the whispering suddenly stopped. He already knew, didn't need it anymore, he knew it himself. "Then listen to me, too."

She furrowed her brows in question as Jake's smile only got bigger and closer, much closer...

"Listen to me... and let me..."

Silent silence. Only their hearts were racing, but it was far away somewhere else, far away from them, from the feeling of their lips meeting for the first and last sweet kiss. It was like heaven in hell, a little slice before it was all over, but maybe it wouldn't have been enough without it. Mc's fingers crawled into his hair, into the thick blackness, before he pulled her closer to him. To safety, where perhaps the fire can never reach this beauty.

The air was scarce and heavy, even heavier when Mc gently pulled her lips away. She ran her nose over Jake's cheek, jaw, back to his lips, but she didn't say a word or kiss. They just sat, holding each other, simply existing.

"Maybe this birthday isn't bad after all," he whispered.

The pair of brown eyes opened in alarm at this, but the body remained motionless. "What?"

"Today is my–"

"Why didn't you tell me?"

Jake looked down the curve of her nose and chin. "I wanted to, tonight. But a lot happened."

It was absurd, really out of place, utterly impossible; Mc laughed though. It was a soft, weak voice, one that smoothed Jake's soul like silk. She just shook her head without saying a word and her laugh was contagious. Then it died, and a heavy silence fell upon them.

There they sat, leaning on each other's shoulders, in a forgotten flight, completely alone and on the verge of certain death, yet perhaps now they were the most complete in their lives. Happiness doesn't have to accompany us for a lifetime, it's enough if it lands on us only in the last moments, like a tiny butterfly. Flies away at any moment, yet the knowledge that it chooses us for its short rest is more than the longest love in the world.

The play of flames reflected in their eyes as the fire spread around them. Mc tiredly looked up at Jake, not observing him, she already knew the man. She just looked at his eyes, waiting for him to do the same, and when the blue of the sea met her own sweet chocolate, she smiled. The words were heavy and suffocating, but she wanted to say them. She wasn't sure she would be able to comfortably close her eyes if she didn't.

"Happy birthday to you."

Jake chuckled as he held her eyes, the warm feeling of his fingers around hers never leaving ever again. "I love you, Mc," he whispered.

"I love you too, Jake."

I rushed to Tumblr to write this after finishing my essay... Did you just spoiler your own story??

It crossed my mind to imagine that the day Jake goes to the mine is the same day as his birthday but he doesn't say anything because he stopped celebrating it, but with MC maybe he had hopes of doing it again, but the FBI ruined it for him

How sad it would be… if someone wrote it in her story… 😈

[hogwartshorror]

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[themovieblogonline]

FROM Season 2 Reaction

So, I recently caught the first 5 episodes of FROM season 2. From is the show that's been making waves in the television world. And let me tell you, the writing on FROM is on another level! If you're not familiar with this show: STOP. Stop everything you're doing in life and CATCH UP NOW!  Season 1 is streaming for free on the MGM website and it's also available on Amazon Prime. This show is for horror and mystery fans alike and let me tell you that this show does not disappoint. https://youtu.be/LsxhjSnVw78 I've only watched the first 5 episodes of season 2 so my full review will come later. THE GOOD This show's writing team is putting others to shame! FROM does an amazing job with character writing and dialogue. Each person has an emotional arc that I'm invested in. Season 2 continues this trend with our amazing cast really pushing the envelope and making a name for these actors. Boyd, Donna, Ellis, Tabitha, and more are great characters that have earned a spot in pop culture with some of the best ensemble casts. Not only are our protagonists great but so are the threats! FROM season 2 picks up with new threats that do a great job of keeping us on the edge of our seats. But let's talk about the acting for a moment. I'm telling you, Harold Perrneau is on another level! He's holding the show together with his impeccable performance, especially after that cliffhanger at the end of season 1 that left us all gasping for air. And Harold is flexing his range! OMG! I thought he did masterful work in Episode 8 of Season 1 and he adds to his resume in Season 2. I honestly did not think he could top his performance with his wife Abby but Harold, as Boyd, is able to make a scene interesting all by himself, and it's just amazing to watch. But wait, there's more! Donna is back and she's killing it with some of the best lines and moments in the show. When you put Harold and Donna together, you get magic. Their characters are evolving in the best way possible, and it's such a joy to watch them grow and change. Donna has so much growth after the massacre of the colony house that causes the death of 14 people. This new Donna finds a way for herself in the abyss and does a fantastic job of reinventing herself. Not only that but she integrates herself into the story in new and fantastic ways.   This entire cast grows in their performances with Jade, Victor, Jim, Tabatha, Kenny, Ellis, Fatima, and more are amazing to watch. This cast is one you may not see coming but you fall in love with them. I had this same feeling with the cast of LOST. I had this same feeling with the cast of Game of Thrones. This cast has something special that makes the show mesmerizing and addictive. Did I mention the writing? And let's not forget the bus. I don't want to give too much away, but let's just say that the arrival of the bus at the end of season 1 was just the tip of the spear. The bus is interesting, it's mysterious, and the show just keeps us guessing. I can't say enough how much this show  THE BAD Now, onto the not-so-great part. The show is adding more and more questions with very few answers, and it's getting frustrating. Don't get me wrong, I love a good mystery as much as the next person, but when there are so many loose ends from season 1 that haven't been tied up, it's easy to get lost in the chaos. Overall Overall, From is a show that horror and mystery fans alike will appreciate. With excellent writing, compelling characters, and a well-crafted plot, it's no wonder that the show is making waves in the television world. Keep binge-watching, and keep an eye out for my episode breakdowns and a full review once I've watched all the episodes of season 2! Read the full article

[corrodedthorn]

mirage | prologue

>>pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader >>genre: fluff/angst >>status: ongoing >>chapter cw: smoking, mentions of bad parents, cursing >>english is not my first language

>>series summary: In his entire life, Eddie had one person he could call his best friend. Well, he had, because right after the well-known Starcourt Mall fire, after many weeks of secrets and lies, their paths turbulently parted. Although months of piercing silence on both sides have passed, when the corpse of his schoolmate rested on the floor of Eddie’s trailer, and Hawkins began the hunt, it is she, along with Dustin and the group, who shows up on his hideout's doorstep. Ready to protect him even at the cost of her own life. Eddie rips up old wounds and decides to find the answer to the question that has been tormenting him this whole time. What really happened in the summer of 1985?

series masterlist | playlist

a/n okay, i'm really late with this but I hated the first version and decided to write it all over again. still not sure how it went but I couldn't keep it in a drawer any longer, hope you enjoy!

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

August 11, 1980.

The warm breeze of summer wrapped around their shoulders and combed through their hair. It was one of those nights that seemed to be solely theirs. Her figure planted on the top of a picnic table, he sitting on the bench, between her legs, the back of his head resting against her stomach and his arms resting on her thighs. The entire trailer park was shrouded in silence, except for the loud chirping of crickets hidden in the grass. Yes, it was definitely their night. 

The moon hanging high above their heads, the millions of stars among which she formed her own constellations, the soft light beaming from an old street lamp. Everything was theirs. And not a single soul around to disturb their peace.

Eddie's eyes remained closed in relaxation while her hand stroked his shaved head gently. They often spent summer nights like this, enjoying the last moments of warmth and tranquility. With the new school year looming on the horizon, they took as much as they could from such moments.

"Hey Eddie." She broke the silence suspended between them in a soft voice, as if trying not to disturb the peace. In response, she received only a quiet hum, as a sign that he was listening to her. "Eddie, look!”

The boy opened one eye lazily and looked in the direction she pointed. Right next to them, a large moth was sitting on the table, gently fluttering its wings. With beautiful patterns, it clearly stood out against the decaying wood, and for a moment they could not take their eyes off it. Suddenly, the moth took to the air with breathtaking lightness, flying toward a nearby street lamp. 

"Look, there's another one!" Eddie rose slightly, pointing his finger. The two moths flew toward each other and began a mesmerizing dance, casting delicate shadows on teenagers. The ethereality of this moment filled their hearts with warmth. 

"They're kind of like us, don't you think?" She asked quietly, hoping Eddie would understand. That, like her, he would see in the moths a metaphor for their lives. Their weightless floating in the darkness, desperately searching for a luminous purpose. Having only each other and nothing else needed.

"Yeah. They're like us." And Eddie's dreamy smile hinted that he understood perfectly what she meant. 

Gazing affectionately at the moths flitting around each other, she felt a strange surge of nostalgia. Her smile dropped slightly, and a melancholy filled her heart that had been so joyful only moments ago.

"I don't know how I'll get through this year without you," she said in a soft voice that somewhat caught Eddie off guard. He furrowed his brow, but did not look away from the flying moths.

"I'm not going to drop off the face of the earth though, I'm just going to high school. You'll join me next year, plus we'll be seeing each other after class anyway."

"I know, but still. I guess I’ll just miss you. It will be weird not sitting with you at lunch." She shrugged her shoulders. "Or not seeing your stupid face in the hallway." 

Eddie laughed out loud, nudging her leg with his elbow.

"You always have the rest of Corroded Coffin. And maybe you'll find some new friends if I'm out of the picture." He teased.

"I honestly doubt it. Don't think the chains at my jeans, Metallica shirt or reputation of a freak are very appealing to potential future friends."

"Yeah, you're right." His light laughter left a bitter taste in his mouth, as if the brutal truth was trying to escape his throat. "I guess not too many people want to be friends with freaks, huh?"

"I'm not complaining. I wouldn't even want to know at least half of these people anyway. You're enough for me." She pinched his ear playfully, at which Eddie squirmed. "And we'll be best friends forever."

"Well, you're not getting away from me that easily, so you don't really have a choice." He stuck out his tongue at her and pinched her calf as revenge for the previous attack. Leaning his back against her again, he sighed loudly. His thoughts returned to her previous statement, and Eddie didn't even notice how the corner of his mouth twitched upward involuntarily. "Forever, huh? You promise?"

A note of hope hung in his voice. 

"I swear. Even if someone put a gun to my head. One hundred percent." 

"Forever... Sounds cool."

In Eddie's ears, "forever" sounded otherworldly. It sounded like stability, something he hadn't experienced much in his short life. It sounded like the promise of a future as wonderful as their present. It sounded like the most beautiful word anyone could say to him. From between her lips, it sounded like home.

Because she was his home.

Silence once again enveloped their bodies. Her hands went back to stroking his head, and he once again closed his eyes in relaxation. The moths dissolved somewhere in the gloom of the night, and the pair remained, lulled by the universe. 

Their blissful idyll was interrupted by a vehicle entering the trailer park. The teens' eyes shone brighter than all the stars in the sky at the sight of the familiar car pulling up next to Eddie's trailer.

"Uncle Wayne!" They called out, jumping up from their seats and running into the arms of the tired man, who groaned at the impact.

"And who do my old eyes see? Are these my little rascals?" He put both arms around the teenagers and pulled them close. "What are you two up to?"

"Nothing much. We've been waiting for you." She answered him with a radiant smile.

"Are you stayin' the night, sunshine?" he asked, also sending her a slight smile. "Or you need a ride home?"

"I think I'll stay the night. You know how my parents are." Yes, he knew her parents pretty well. In fact, he knew them well enough that he didn't have the heart to deny the girl at least a scrap of stability and security that they couldn't give her. And if that scrap was to be his old little trailer, so be it.

Wayne stroked her shoulder reassuringly, then with a slow step began to lead the teenagers toward the front door. 

"Sure thing. Well, it's not that late yet, so how about a movie? I have that weird 'the shine' one that you guys are obsessed with."

"You mean 'the shining'?" Eddie laughed out loud.

"Yeah, that one."

As the door closed behind their backs, finally cutting them off from the darkness of night and nostalgic reflections, luminous smiles filled their souls. They ended up not watching any movie. Instead, they sat together on the couch, sipping cinnamon tea and talking about how their day went. 

And if the moths were still around, they would surely have flown toward that trailer. For their laughter seemed to light up the park a little brighter than the street lamps.

March 7, 1986

This evening seemed oddly colder than the others. Maybe it was because spring had yet to arrive in Hawkins, or maybe it was her chilling gaze that made the darkness weigh down on his shoulders and the blast of cold bite into his leather jacket. Probably both.

Eddie was standing with his back against the side of his van, taking a drag on a cigarette every few moments. With attentive eyes, he watched Dustin, who was walking toward a familiar car with a wide smile on his lips, waving cheerfully at the girl behind the wheel.

He will probably spend the whole way home telling her how today's campaign went, how they defeated the final boss and how cool it was. She will probably have a wide smile on her face throughout the story and will ask for details from time to time. They will probably laugh all the time and listen to music very loudly as they drive through the streets of Hawkins together. But Eddie could only imagine this heartwarming scene. A scene that used to be his reality.

He took another drag on his cigarette and involuntarily glanced in her direction. For a second they seemed to catch eye contact, but she quickly looked away and sent a slight smile to Dustin. With absolutely no acknowledgment of Eddie's presence, she drove out of the parking lot without looking back once.

"Forever, huh? Fucking bullshit." He muttered to himself, tossing his cigarette on the ground. With a heavy step, he got into his van, slamming the door and almost immediately clenching his hands on the steering wheel. Only his loud sigh disrupted the overwhelming silence, as he tried to ignore the painful stabbing in his heart. So many months had passed since their last conversation, yet the sight of her still had a grip on his throat.

What happened to them? 

A photo of her graduation, which Eddie always carried in his wallet, suddenly seemed to burn the material. He didn't have to look at it to have their silhouettes embracing each other tightly before his eyes, the beaming smiles on their faces and the sparkles dancing in their eyes. It didn't matter that that year he once again failed to graduate. All of his focus was on how proud and incredibly happy he was about her accomplishment. On that day, he was sure that at his own ceremony a year later, she would be at his side. Standing just as proudly, squeezing him close and flipping the bird to the teaching staff. Clearly, he was wrong. 

Seven months. That's how long it had been since the last time they had any kind of conversation. It had been even longer since he last saw the feisty sparks in her eyes. Somewhere between the routine of everyday life, she slipped through his fingers like loose sand. And from a soulmate, she became nothing more than the ghost of his best friend.

The stillness of the night began to seep into his van, but Eddie was in no mood to disperse it with loud music, as he usually did. He sent a glance at the spot where her car had been just a moment ago. 

One single moth flew right in front of his windshield.

Eddie's eyes welled up with tears.

taglist: @awhoreforeddiemunson @peaches-roses-sins @vingtetunmars @waitlalice @mopeymopeymouse @nikt-wazny-y @fangirling-4-ever @eddiebaemunson @munsonsfairygarden @dietcokequeen06 @aedicn @anxietybbie-blog @eddiesdingus @marvelbrokeme @avengers-21 @drm2003 @the-iridescent-phoenix @hurricane-abigail @h-ness1944 @basketcaseeeeee @eddiejosephluv @authoressskr @fizzleslay @chickennug90 @princesseddie @urallidjits @dreamsofbisexualswamprats @protecteddiemunson4vr

[waterfromleaves]

It feels so strange having been playing MMOs since the beginning and seeing how these days most people aren't aware that the trinity didn't include DPS. It was first formed in Everquest and the trinity was Tank, Healer (cleric specifically), and Enchanter. And it was so much more than just debuffing! And while i do agree with the timeline you presented i believe that happened after subsequent MMOs had already made changes to diminish the role and I'd like to describe what it was like before that happened.

So to start off with let's look at just what Enchanter did to make it a cornerstone of the trinity. It could as you debuff as described for sure. It could also buff! One of the most important buff spell lines in the game in fact! Clarity! This spell line was one of the only ways to increase mana regeneration. But the most important of all and what I'd like to focus on is Crowd Control!

The thing about early MMOs is that unlike modern ones, YOU. WERE. NOT. meant to face tank multiple mobs. Pulling an entire camp was a fast track into your tank dying, let alone your healer burning all their mana if they could even keep up with the damage. Now most caster's a had a root spell of some kind (locks the target in place but they can still cast spells or attack from range if able.) But Enchanter was one of the only classes with Mesmerize. A spell in single targert (longer lasting) or aoe (more mana intensive and shorter) forms that caused a mob to not attack as long as you didn't attack them.

Sounds too easy and broken right? Press a button and the rest of your team can casually take on whole groups of challenging mobs one at a time? Well, it could seem that way to the rest of the group if you were a very good enchanter. But it was actually incredibly hard and incredibly stressful. A lot of early MMOs did not allow you to track spell durations on enemies. If you wanted to track spell duration you physically set a timer in front of your monitor or tracked server ticks through your mana regeneration. Not to mention you needed to be able to adapt in case a mob randomly broke the spell or a party member accidentally hit a Mezzed mob. But pulling all of this off well was so rewarding. Suddenly your group could take on extremely tough mob camps or even entire zones with the right party comps. You were almost solely responsible for your group's conquest and that was so empowering!

so why was it changed? and the rest of the timeline laid out by toskarin happen? well...like I just said, you were almost solely responsible for your group running well. you were the success or failure point. arguably more important than a tank or a healer and people complain about tankxiety and healing anxiety still these days so you can imagine what it was like to play an Enchanter or CC role. That kind of anxiety and stress drives people away from classes and that's bad when that class is sort of needed for a good party.

How do you fix that? Spread burden around so it's just not one guy.

dps aren't doing much, give them some interrupts

give the tank a stun, the healer some minor cc

and what Toskarin mentioned happens, suddenly all the roles are overlapping and it's not that roles identity anymore so...we can just remove it, right?

(it's also worth noting that possibly the big change to this came with WoW who's initial devs included members of EQ hardcore raiders, Fires of Heaven i think. Raid bosses can't be CC'd at all and i believe a focus on dungeons also having raid like bosses also served to rapidly diminish the identity of CCer's. and also everyone copying WoW did have a knock on effect.)

one of my most twisted and fucked up opinions is that I think the mmo trinity's era should end and they should bring back the fourth role (debuff)

[in-silks-and-flesh-and-leather]

[ubi amor, ibi dolor] part 2

Part 1 here

*

Chapter summary: When he gets to Paris, Jacques gets more than he bargained for as he learns more about the object of his obsession.

CW: strong language throughout, casual medieval misogyny, a shithead cast of characters, promiscuity all around – RC very much included

Word count: 3.7k

*

To my crown of thorns, the serpent in my breast, everything bitter and sharp, the vilest dissimulator and mother of lies,

Your eyes, my lady, are nothing like the Sun. The Sun warms and caresses, gives life and joy, while your gaze withers the most sincere garden of affections.

If silken threads adorn the heads of gentle lovers, then Medusa’s snakes spring forth from your clever head. Roses bloom in cheeks of fair maidens, their petals color the soft of their lips. No such roses I find in you, rather a wreath of thorns around the hole in your face and venom-laced spit that coats the wounds your tongue slashes.

No perfume I find on your mesmeric skin, no sweetness in your breath; only a hateful decay, the gust of a stone tomb when you whirl around me, when you stab with your oaths. When lovers speak, angels sing and brooks burble; when you talk to me, you grate my ears and burn my bones.

By now you have surmised the breadth of my recrimination.

But none do I love more, none treads in my sleep and quarters me while I wake. You are on me like the scar of a fatal wound, in me like a slow poison. You alone can undo the harm you have inflicted on me.

You are guilty for the devastation of my peace of mind and your penalty is to ensure its restoration.

I will wait for you to assume responsibility and come pay off the debt love has incurred.

Resentfully and furiously yours,

Jacques Le Gris

*

“He has balls, I like him.” – your brother said, having taken the liberty of opening the letter before delivering it to you.

“How dare you, you pile of sheep dung, that was for my eyes only!”

“Oh, stop, you stupid goose, I had to check it; it came all the way from Exmes. Who do you even know there?” – he asked, snatching the letter out of reach when you tried to take it, incensed at the mention of Exmes.

“Just some squire with no breeding. You might as well burn the letter immediately, it doesn’t interest me.” – you shrugged, nose high in the air, and he called your bluff.

“He’s certainly got your character down.” – he glanced back down, agreeing with all the negative comparisons.

“Give that here!” – you jumped at him as he ran for the hearth and he ducked out of the way.

“You have a little admirer!” – he laughed, careening out of the room and running through the hall.

“I do not!”

“What on earth does he see in you?” – he teased, stopping to let you catch up and then sprinting away again before you grabbed him.

“I’m telling father!”

“I’m tilling fithir!” – he mocked, running up the stairs two at a time, heading to your father’s solar. – “I’m telling him too, that you’re seducing squires when you’re meant to be building diplomatic relations!”

*

Jacques was surprised to get a reply. He imagined he would either be shackled and summoned before the duke for his daring and disrespect, or else he would have to keep writing for months until he ground you down.

Your brother explained that there was to be a tournament in the city, celebrating a successful military campaign and that it was also to be an unofficial pageant for the selection of a groom for his sister.

You ought to come. Give us some sport.

I am sure my sister will be most grievously roused and I look forward to every moment of it.

Who knows; fortune may favor the bold and you might even snag yourself a bride.

*

Pierre would be damned if he did not accompany his precious squire. He insisted on how Jacques needed his guile and connections in the big city, which was not entirely untrue. His eyes shone with excitement as he skipped around, inspecting his favorite, most ostentatious garbs, chattering – mostly to himself – about all the fun to be had in the big city and what an impression Jacques was sure to make. But what Pierre looked forward to the most was some time away from his momentarily rotund and perpetually disagreeable wife. Not to mention he badly needed a top up of time with his favorite squire-toy.

After that fateful bacchanal weeks ago, Jacques had neither the fortitude of heart nor the virility of loins to attend any more of Pierre’s outrageous soirees. His absence was sorely missed, with laughter diminishing and irresolute coitus increasing, an excess of wine to compensate for it resulting in flabby rods on men and dozing disinterest in women. Pierre needed Jacques back and this seemed like the only route to end his dispiritedness. Once he had had his conquest, he would get it out of his system and Pierre could rest easy.

Jacques did not care much about Pierre’s giddiness and flurry of plans for a good time, as long as he got to see you again and break any prospective suitor to pieces.

*

The trip from Alençon to Paris took ten long, excruciating, nail-biting days. As the two friends at long last approached Paris, Jacques stared out the window, a pile of chattering, nervous bones, and Pierre examined his fingers for hangnails, wanting to make sure he made a favorable impression on anyone who shook or kissed his hand. – “While we’re in Paris, we should visit Rouen. I hear they have great pugilists and put on spectacular fights, if you know where to look. And they boast even better brothels.”

Jacques just kept staring out with unfocused eyes, nervously gnawing at the inside of his cheek.

“Jacques. Are you listening to me?” – Pierre leaned in, exasperated. Talking to Jacques of late was like talking to a wall. Jacques hummed affirmatively and Pierre repeated himself.

“If I am to enter the tournament, I’ll get more than enough pugilism. And I’m staying away from brothels like Carrouges stays away from good haircuts.”

Pierre chuckled before resuming his serious talk. – “I think it most unhealthy, this abstinence. Are you sure you are not ill?”

“I am the same as the last time that we had this conversation.” – Jacques retorted, tired of having to make excuses as to what he chose to do and not do with his, admittedly glorious, penis. It was becoming rather intrusive, all this bedchamber and brothel talk, especially now that the topic was a newly sore one for him. Everything was sore lately, he shifted uncomfortably in his seat, glimpsing the almost complete cathedral ahead.

*

When the two troublemakers arrived, they first went to the best barber they could find to have their one-stop shop beautifying regimen. After a shave for Pierre and trim for Jacques, they submerged themselves up to their noses in baths, washing off the grime of the road and it felt heavenly. The top of Jacques’s head was like an angry little island in the middle of a steaming sea, mind only on one thing.  

Finally, he came out of the bath and dried off, putting on the clothes Pierre had chosen for him. Pure ostentation, the doublet showed off his colors – gray and red – contrasting beautifully and drawing the eye inexorably to the dramatic and flashy ornation. It was the kind of thing a king might wear to a coronation. Pierre chose to complement his handsome friend in a blue and gold frock that glistened as he moved and accentuated his blond hair.

“We look fucking good.” – Pierre wrapped a hand around Le Gris’ shoulder, grinning into the poorly cast mirror that distorted them and made them look like contortionists in the middle of an act.

“Are you sure we will be welcome at this banquet?” – Jacques wanted to confirm; Pierre had a slightly inconvenient habit of presuming hospitality wherever he set foot.

“Will we be welcome? At the duke’s banquet? The duke who is a servant of the king – who is my cousin—”

“…who is your cousin, yes, the king, that king, the only king who is currently the king of France and also your cousin, that’s the one.” – Jacques grumbled, undoing a button that made it difficult to breathe all of a sudden.

“Jacques. They will groom our horses and suck our dicks as soon as we make our entrance. Is that reassurance enough?”

Pierre turned to look at his friend, who was wiping cold sweat off his forehead and struggling to breathe.

“Will you pull yourself together? They’ll think you’ve got the plague if you show up looking pale and sick like that.” – he took Jacques’ shoulder and shook him into focus. The he pinched his cheeks in a few places, trying to put some color back into them. Jacques shook his head like a displeased horse and smoothed his doublet down. – “Oh, come the fuck on man! You only get one chance to make a first impression!”

Jacques turned an even sicklier looking shade of green at that, thinking back to that night that has haunted him ever since, when he thought he was making the woman of his dreams feral with desire. Like an absolute fool. He certainly hoped that Pierre was wrong and it was possible to amend a previously unfavorable impression.

Pierre cocked his head, wondering what the fuck got into him, but then remembered this whole histrionic mood Le Gris had been in. - “Oh. Right.” – he made an apologetic grimace and picked up Jacques’ cape.

“Are you doing this to me on purpose?” – Jacques crossed his arms and tapped a foot, waiting for an answer.

“No more than you taking a steaming shit on my stellar parties.” – Pierre waved him off and put the cape over his shoulders. Jacques puffed and rolled his eyes, adjusting the cape so it sat just right.

“Show me the swish.” – Pierre coaxed.

“I don’t want to.” – Jacques shrugged, eager to head to the duke’s palace.

“Oh, come on. You know how much everyone loves it. You can’t possibly consider not doing for the duke.”

Jacques was softening up. He knew the swish took everyone’s breath away.

“Go on. Give it a quick whirl.”

Jacques did, the fabric clapping softly and whooshing through the air, gathering at a single point at his fingertips. Pierre squealed with delight and followed his long strides out, ready to dance, drink and fuck, in whatever order the three came.

*

You were fitted into your new dress, figure-hugging and dripping with adornments. It required two people to peel it on and off, meaning it would be suitably eye-catching. The neckline plunged and left room for copious jewelry and you used every free patch of skin for the purpose. It was the kind of outfit a queen might be crowned in.

Your brother and his new wife were impressed when you came in, she piling compliments on you and he scoffing, wondering why it took all day to make you look that good. The large stones in the rings you were wearing were perfect for punching, so you gave him a good sock to the chest and he let out a cry of actual pain.

“Are we in for another dull affair or is anyone fun attending?” – you asked your sister-in-law and she wrapped her arm around yours, excited to be seeing people and showing off her new husband.

“Lord Odo is back, so everyone is sure to get an earful about the battles he’s seen recently.” – she started and you nodded, sighing.

“And not so recently if he gets enough wine in him. What about any of the Valois or the Navarres?” – you asked, hopeful that someone of actual import would be there.

“Indubitably, the Navarres are absolute whores for power and exposure, they’ll be here in droves. But you might be interested in my guests of honor.” – your brother wiggled his eyebrows fiendishly and your smile melted into a scowl. Whenever he was this happy, trouble wasn’t far behind.

“Who?” – you huffed, frowning.

“Why, Jacques Le Gris and Pierre d’Alençon, naturally!” – he clapped his hands excitedly and grabbed your free arm before you could storm off.

“I don’t want him here!”

“Then that is simply too bad.” – he retorted airily, like it was a minor inconvenience. -  “He is the only person I want there.”

“Why would you want that? Pierre is in the middle of nowhere in Alençon and he’s already allied with father. Not to mention married with so many kids one could hang off each teat on a sow. That poor woman.”

“True. He does not want for heirs.”

“And Le Gris is a worthless squire with nothing but a few coffers of gold and cheap, superficial charm that passes at small courts in the country, but is going to stick out here and humiliate you if you’re foolish enough to present him as your guest of honor.”

“You may be right, sister dearest, as you often are.” – he was unbothered, still grinning infuriatingly.

“Then why are you doing this, you thoughtless little piglet?”

“I just want to see all hell break loose.”

*

Jacques was distraught not to get alone time with you. You were constantly being swept away, either by hosting duties or friends and acquaintances, and he ended up trailing Pierre around, talking to boring men and bowing to their insipid wives or graciously accepting the duke’s invitations to come meet so and so, the fake smile pinching his cheeks.

Finally, after some liquid courage and a momentary clearing of people around you, he saw his chance and swooped in, determined to invite you to dance. You glanced at him only briefly, saying a quick prayer that he shouldn’t be stupid enough to approach you and cast your eyes around, looking for anyone who could be used to occupy your attention and time. One of the less important Valois – of Louis’ line, brother to the king – was conveniently close. Yes, he was losing his hair in that unattractive way and his breath smelled like stale eggs, but he was close and powerful, and could easily take precedence over some upstart squire who presumed to impose his company on you.

“Denis!” – you purred at him, feigning happiness to see him.

“Duchess! A sight for sore eyes!” – he turned and spread his arms, offering a hug.

Jacques arrived just in time to appear as if he was interrupting your conversation. So intent was he on looking at you that he missed the distasteful look Denis gave him.

“Sir…” – Denis  started, promoting Jacques to fill in with his name, but then quickly remembered  himself. He would know this man is he were worth knowing. And Denis was a Valois, after all, and that mattered, damn it. – “Are you a sir?” – he narrowed his eyes at the intruder when he failed to respond.

Jacques hesitated for only the briefest moment, chin defiantly high, eyes still scandalously plastered on you. – “No, my lord.”

“Then know your place.” – Denis commanded and then leaned in confidentially. – “I see some maidservants who might be in need of regaling.” – he clapped Jacques on the shoulder with a guise of friendship and spun you away from him, walking away.

Jacques observed you dance the dance that was stolen from him, with the cold, patient stare of a wolf, and toasted you when he finally caught your eye. He was satisfied to find you recoiling away from the man’s breath and not hiding your displeasure well enough.

You also observed the villain practically get swarmed by women of every ilk, from royalty to wench. Keeping a tally of faces in your head, you would have to remember to retaliate against them. Though you weren’t playing with him right now, he was still your toy, not theirs.

*

It was almost midnight when you made your escape, sneaking out to climb up the back stairs and meet an old flame, Guiscard, finally back from the crusades, and make up for lost time. As you made your way down the corridors, you gasped in surprise when you came across two sloppy lovers grinding against a stone wall.

Hips pressed into the woman to pin her against the wall, Le Gris took her lolling head into his hands and gently slapped her.

“What do you think you’re doing?” – you demanded before thinking better of it. Now your own tryst was in danger of being uncovered too. But seeing Jacques, who you knew for a fact was here to grovel at your feet, have the gall to go gown chasing in your very home was too much of an affront to keep quiet.

Jacques froze and the woman’s head simply slung over her shoulder. You recognized the drooling, almost unconscious face of Jeannette, a notorious lush. Just then, a door opened and a mousy maid popped out, slugging her mistress’ limp body inside with Jacques’  help, thanking him effusively.  

She truly couldn’t thank him enough, since her husband was sick to death of Jeannette’s profligacy, in drinking and various other wet pursuits. The maid noticed you and stared with wide, petrified eyes until you waved her off and gave permission for her sow of a mistress to sleep it off in a quiet place.

“Carry on.” – you sighed and turned your attention to Jacques, who slicked his hair back into place and readjusted his extravagant clothing, sauntering leisurely over to you. – “An apology is in order, I suppose.” – you rolled your eyes and directed them at the jewelry on your hand, rearranging it as he scorched his gaze over your face and body.

“Yes.” – he agreed and paused. – “Go ahead.” – he waved a hand in permission, leaning his torso in to better hear it.

“I just did.” – you set your jaw. The nerve.

“You said an apology was in order. You did not say you were sorry.” – he corrected and trained his face to remained still. Yet his eyes were smiling, all mischief and amusement.

You raised your chin imperiously and gave him a look to cut him off at the knees. - “I apologize for jumping to the wrong conclusion. In light of the little unpleasantness I know about you, it seemed logical.”

“Apology accepted. In the light of the haughty pride I know you to be possessed of, I could expect no better.”

Infuriating. – “You may return to the party and we will not speak of what happened here. And don’t let me catch you wandering outside of the great hall again.”

“I live to serve you.” - he agreed, giving an exaggerated bow.

You moved past his ridiculous proclamation swiftly. - “And tell no one you saw me.”

You were dashing down the corridor before he could probe you any further, leaving him to wonder what made you this secretive and keen.

*

Thieves came in many forms. Some steal coins, others information, while others still make off with flesh and maidenheads. Jacques had been all three kinds in his day, and he had learned that knowing the layout and secrets of a castle was invaluable, whether he was bent upon stealing something from it or not. When the party grew unbearably boring and you failed to return within a reasonable timeframe, Jacques coaxed a pretty little maid to accompany him and show him around. He did to her what they all liked, chased after their skirts, pinching their round buttocks and pushing them into little nooks and corners, kneading tits and sucking on necks so they could boast about a lord leaving a mark on them in the morning. She showed him some useful things, not the least of which the wing where his prey slept.

“And the next one over is my lady’s chamber.”- she whispered, breath still short from what he did her around the previous corner.

Giggles echoed and the two of them glanced around urgently, looking for a place to hide. Fabrics rustled and the noises became more pronounced, a male voice groaning happily and a female one, alternating between sighing and laughing. Lips smacked against skin and hands ran roughly over a dress, a heavy cloak swishing through the air. The scene that formed in Jacques’ head rooted him to the spot and made him whip around.

You appeared, Guiscard’s lips stuck on your neck like a barnacle on a ship, hands already undoing the front of your dress. The man looked up with only mild interest. His eyes were still glazed over and he clearly did not consider Jacques competition. Tall and broad, with dark locks falling over his face and shoulders, the man was dressed elegantly in his colors, purple and gold, and had the bearing of an experienced commander. You reached up to stroke his cheek and he chased your fingers with his nipping teeth, Jacques already forgotten. Your maid peered out from her hiding spot, worried she would be in trouble for letting someone see you with a lover. You seemed unperturbed as you smiled to yourself and unhooked a key from your belt. Guiscard too showed no shame, leaning his tall frame against the wall as you unlocked the door to your chamber and swung it open for him. With an air of obedience, he put a hand over his heart and made his way in with long strides and a hungry smirk. Your maid looked over at Jacques, wondering if he was another on your long list of conquests or if you were only taunting him. Before joining Guiscard inside, you cast a quick glance over your shoulder, at the horror-stricken Jacques, and gave him a cheeky little wave with the tips of your fingers. The man’s massive arm came out to wrap around your waist impatiently, and Jacques caught the merest shadow of your wanton smile before you yelped as he pulled you in, fast and fierce, right against his barrel chest, for more fast and fierce activity.

Jacques’ cape made an angry clap as he swung it, not bothering to wait for the hiding maid, and he descended the winding stairs in a fury, unable to remain in this circle of Hell any longer.

*  

[crackleclover]

My first Arcane fic! Of course I’ve gotta write for the best boy, Viktor. Feedback is greatly appreciated!

- - -

Viktor x Reader (no gendered pronouns)

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: None

Prompt: “it’s hard to sit here and be close to you and not kiss you.”

From here

It wasn’t often that Viktor and Y/N had the lab to themselves; With all of the advancements they’ve been making with Hextech lately, it seemed like donors and undergrads alike were always in the lab— in their space.

Viktor sometimes finds himself longing for the old days, when he, Jayce, and Y/N had the entire space to work in. They didn’t have to worry about tripping over some socialites’ fancy dress, or an eager undergrad asking questions far too close to a dangerous machine. No, in those days they could work in peace. And that was how Viktor liked it.

But he couldn’t fully complain, there was one thing the old days didn’t have. The three of you had worked on Hextech together from the start, forming a bond that could never be broken. You were all there for each other no matter what; even when Jayce got a little too tipsy during fundraiser events, or when Y/N got grumpy from lack of sleep. They were a happy little trio, but lately, things have felt a bit. . . different.

Viktor and Y/N worked in a comfortable silence; Viktor fine-tuning another piece of the Hex Claw, while Y/N fiddled around with their Hex Goggles. Every so often, Viktor would cast a glance in their direction. Their brow was furrowed in concentration as their pencil travelled across the page, marking down notes on how to make the Hex Goggles work better. Y/N hand dropped the pencil, reaching for the goggles instead. They fiddled with the gears and straps for a moment, before a satisfied grin settled upon their face. Carefully, the goggles were returned to their spot, and the pencil was chosen once again.

Viktor couldn’t take his eyes off of his companion, they were absolutely mesmerizing. Before they had met, Viktor did not see any reason to fall in love; it was a lot of effort for one, and it would take him away from his experiments. That was until he met Y/N. After Jayce had introduced you two, the three of them worked on Hex Tech almost nonstop. Plenty of all-nighters were shared, and as exhausting as they were, it brought you closer as friends. Viktor couldn’t help but feel drawn towards Y/N over the years, they had something about them that he could not quite describe. Eventually, Viktor could not deny it any longer— he had fallen in love.

At first, Viktor tried to play it cool— after all, he couldn’t risk losing their precious friendship. Jayce and Y/N seemed oblivious to any missteps Viktor made, which he was quite thankful for. For months, he remained by their side, an ever loyal friend. Yes, friend. That was all he could ever be.

As time went on however, Viktor found it harder and harder to conceal; Lingering touches on their arm when fitting the Hex Claw glove, remaining in the lab with them far longer than necessary, even attending events by their side— he was always careful when matching with them of course, one can’t be too obvious. He feared he was being too obvious, but no one mentioned anything, not even Y/N.

Now here they were, sitting in the lab, in peace. Viktor gazed at his friend from across the room, relishing the moment alone. He could watch them work for hours, which part of him intended on doing. That was, until one of his worst fears came true. Y/N looked at him.

Instantly, their eyes met, and Viktor quickly looked away. But after a moment, he looked back. Y/N was watching him with an amused expression, their tired eyes sparkling in the dim light of the lab.

“What? Am I doing something so obviously wrong with these?” Y/N joked, grabbing the Hex Goggles and giving them a twirl. Viktor chuckled and looked down once again; he should feel embarrassed at being caught, but he wasn’t. Something in Viktor told him that he was ready, that he couldn’t wait any longer. Y/N was right in front of him, smiling. They were alone in the lab at last, there was no better time than this.

“It’s hard to sit here and be so close to you, and not kiss you” he said, looking deep into the eyes of the person he loved. He searched, looking for any hint that they might feel the same. Seconds felt like hours, and Viktor was suddenly aware of how tired he must look. Why did he do that? Their friendship is ruined forever. How is he going to tell Jayce? What’s going to happen to Hex Tech? What about Piltover and Heimerdinger? They’re going to be so disappointed that he put his feelings over his work. He’s ruined. He can never look anyone in the eyes ever again—

He was pulled out of his spiral by familiar hands resting on his shoulders. Slowly, he looked up from his shaking hands, and was met with Y/N looking down at him. Their face was a bright, warm smile— the smile he had seen so many times before, but never in this way. Y/N leaned down and brought their faces close together, lips barely brushing.

“Why didn’t you just come over and kiss me then?” They whispered, their breath ghosting his face. At once, he closed the distance. Their lips were soft, just as he imagined they would be. The kiss was slow and sweet, allowing Viktor to pour all of his love into it. Their hands found their way into Viktor’s hair, playing with it ever so gently. Viktor smiled into the kiss, pulling them closer.

At last, they broke the kiss, and Viktor wished he didn’t need air. Y/N’s face was flushed, and he was sure his face was as well. He rested his forehead on theirs, smiling like a fool.

“Well, that certainly went better than expected” Viktor joked, earning a big smile from Y/N.

“What? Did you think I would slap you or something?” Y/N jabbed playfully, giving him a peck on the cheek after. Viktor laughed, and pulled them in once again. He was so relieved, his fears and doubts were for nothing. Work on Hex Tech could continue, and everything would be fine.

Bonus Ending:

The sound of folders dropping broke Y/N and Viktor apart. There, in the previously empty doorway, stood Jayce. His mouth agape, Jayce could only point at his two friends.

“You- you two- uh I’m so sorry I’ll just- I’ll just uh” he stammered, trying desperately to gather his folders up and back out of the room, “I’ll just go. You two uh- have fun? Congrats? I’m so sorry”

The couple laughed as their friend scurried off, almost ruining the moment. They looked at each other once more, thankful for everything that brought them together.