#pushes him away... in exchange for changing the world to a better place

[charlie-bradcherry]

I keep thinking about the meaning behind the kiss between Crowley and Aziraphale. I mean, it's just so much more than a kiss. It's a sudden last resort, it's a desperate attempt that says 'please, tell me you feel that this is right too'. Crowley's last bit hope to get that damn idiot, that stupid fool to come back to his senses, and kisses him, something that he hopes is enough for Aziraphale to snap out of it and understand what they can have before he steps foot out of the bookshop. Before it's all over. When Aziraphale denies him for a second time (even though he clearly loves him back but he's still as naive as ever when it comes to the matter, that love constipated idiot), Crowley's eyes are concealed but you can just see life has been drained from his face and the rest of his immortal life isn't worth living anymore.

His little, soft sigh of despair and his 'don't bother' ugh, I just--

[maskedbyghost]

Beneath the Mask

Simon Riley was a man of few words and even fewer moments of vulnerability. The mask he wore wasn't just for protection; it was a shield from the world, from feelings, from everything. But tonight, as he stood in the kitchen of your small apartment, watching you hum softly while chopping vegetables, he felt something he rarely did—peace.

You’d only been dating for a few months, despite having known him as your lieutenant for much longer. For the longest time, both of you kept your feelings hidden, until one drunken night when everything spilled out—confessions exchanged—before falling asleep like nothing had changed. It wasn’t until the next morning, as the memories of the night resurfaced, that you realized what had happened. You were terrified of ruining the friendship, while Simon had already begun quietly planning your future together, looking for a house where you could grow old side by side, completely normal behavior if you ask him.

Simon smiled, remembering your cute face when you tried to apologize for your outburst of feelings, thinking that what he said was only to make you feel better. You couldn't be more wrong. He took your hands, kissing the soft skin through his mask, while repeating everything he said the night before, and meaning it.

Now, while standing in your kitchen, watching you make dinner for the two of you, his heart filled with warmth he couldn't explain. He was glad for that night when he finally got the girl of his dreams. You were smart, kind, beautiful, and patient with him. Very patient. He could see it in your eyes every time you looked at him—the love and respect you had for him.

Even after months of dating, you’d only seen his face a handful of times. It was something he kept guard, a piece of himself he wasn’t ready to share completely. You never wanted to push or make him uncomfortable, understanding how significant that step was for him. He had spent most of his life alone, hidden behind his mask, where he felt safe. You knew the best way to support him was to let him unveil himself at his own pace, just as you had grown to feel so comfortable with him over these past few months.

"Can I help you with anythin', love?" His voice pulled you from your thoughts as he wrapped his arms around your waist, gently drawing you into him. You hadn’t even heard him approach—something he would usually scold you for, reminding you to always stay on guard. But what he didn’t understand was just how safe you felt with him. Whenever he was near, every worry disappeared, and you knew, without a doubt, that you were protected.

"Thank you, baby. I'm almost done, but you can help me by setting up the table." You said while stirring the soup while checking on the main dish that was cooking in the oven.

Simon stayed close behind you, wishing he could inhale the scent of your hair, but the mask allowed only a faint scent to reach him. He wanted to press soft kisses to the top of your head and across your face, yet the mask remained a barrier between him and the intimacy he craved at that moment.

Unaware of his thoughts, you turned around and pressed a kiss to his chest, feeling the softness of the black cotton shirt he wore at your place. "I need to check if it's ready," you said, gently freeing yourself from Simon’s strong embrace and moving toward the oven on the other side of the kitchen.

Simon decided at that moment—he would finally let you see the real him, scars and all. Although he longed to stretch out this precious moment, he felt reassured by the way you hadn’t turned away during the brief glimpses you’d had of his face. That gave him the courage to open up completely. As you focused on the oven, he took a deep breath and gently approached you, his voice tender and resolute. “I’ve been hidin' behind this mask for so long,” he said softly. “But with you, I wan' to be fully myself.”

For a moment, his words didn’t quite register. But when you turned around and saw him slowly removing his mask, your breath caught in your throat. You stared awestruck at his face. How could someone as beautiful as he was, hide behind a mask for so long? The sight of him, unmasked and vulnerable, took your breath away. He was beautiful. In your eyes, Simon Riley was a remarkably beautiful man, and you couldn’t help but feel incredibly lucky that he was yours.

Simon stood in front of you, his heart pounding as he noticed your stunned silence. The moment stretched on, and he grew anxious, questioning if he had made a mistake. He knew he wasn’t unattractive, but his scars had always made him uneasy. Now, he worried that his vulnerability might have changed how you saw him. Was his decision to remove the mask a mistake? Should he put it back on? Doubt began to creep in, clouding his mind.

As Simon’s anxiety grew, you blinked, snapping out of your trance. You saw the worry etched on his face and felt a pang of guilt for making him question himself. Taking a deep breath, you reached out, gently cupping his face with your hands. “Simon,” you said softly, your voice steady and reassuring. “You are breathtaking. Every part of you. The scars, the mask, it’s all part of what makes you… you. I’ve never been more sure of how much I care about you.”

He looked into your eyes, searching for any sign of insincerity but finding only warmth. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he absorbed your words. “You’ve shown me so much of yourself already,” you continued, your thumb brushing gently against his cheek. “I’m honored that you trust me enough to let your guard down. I’m not going anywhere.”

Simon’s eyes softened, and he let out a shaky breath, the tension melting away. With a small, relieved smile, he leaned in and pressed his forehead against yours. The mask was no longer between you two and in that moment, you both felt a profound sense of closeness, understanding that your bond was deeper than any barrier could ever be.

Your eyes sparkled with affection. “Come here,” you said, wrapping your arms around him. He hesitated for a moment before finally relaxing into your embrace. As you held him, you felt the tension in his body slowly ease. “I’ve always admired your strength,” you murmured. “And now, I see even more of the person I care about.”

Simon pulled back just enough to look at you, his expression softening with relief. “Thank you,” he said quietly. “I needed to hear that.”

Simon lowered his head until his lips gently met yours. At that moment, he knew that he could share this kind of closeness whenever he wanted. There were no more barriers between you—just the pure connection that he had longed for.

You took advantage of the lack of the mask by tangling your fingers with his short hair as he pulled you closer into the kiss. As you both savored the kiss, the world outside seemed to fade away. Simon’s hands cradled your face, his touch gentle yet firm, as if he were afraid to let go of this newfound closeness.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, but your eyes met and Simon’s smile was soft and genuine, a rare sight that spoke volumes of his feelings. “I didn’t realize how much I needed this,” he said quietly, his voice filled with emotion. “Thank you for being so patient with me love.”

You smiled back, your heart full. “There’s no need to thank me. This is what we’ve always been working towards baby, being completely ourselves with each other.”

As you sat down to enjoy your meal, you both knew that the evening marked a new beginning. The barriers that had once stood between you were gone, replaced by a bond that was stronger and more genuine than ever. You were ready to face whatever came next together, secure in the knowledge that your love was built on trust and an unbreakable connection.

(English is not my first language, be nice pls.)

[fafnir19]

Refugee's Welcome

Rashid slouched against the peeling wall of the refugee home, his shiny tracksuit clinging to his skin. He fiddled with his phone, scrolling through messages from his family back in the Middle East. Each ding from the device felt like a reminder of the life he was building on the backs of the generous European welfare system. He decided to go for a walk and trudged along the cracked pavement, the soles of his brand new sneakers slapping against the ground with a dull thud. He glanced around the neighborhood, a hodgepodge of well-maintained buildings and meticulously maintained gardens tended by eager hands. The air was thick with the scent of fresh food and the distant hum of traffic, a reminder of the life outside his small refugee home.

He pushed back the bitterness that welled in his throat. Here he was, in Europe, surrounded by riches, yet he felt like a ghost haunting a world meant for someone else. This place, with its cold efficiency, was supposed to be a sanctuary, but to him, it felt like a cage. In fact, he was just an imposter, pretending to be a refugee, but in reality he was just eager to take advantage of the welfare system. “Stupid place,” he muttered, casting an envious glance at a group of teenagers laughing as they tossed a football back and forth. Their carefree joy was a dagger to his heart. He didn’t belong here, and his greed for what they had only deepened his resentment.

He had grown tired of the monotony—waiting for welfare checks, sending money back home, and plotting how to bring his family to this land of plenty. It was all so predictable, like a clock ticking away the minutes of his life. He craved change, but not the kind that required effort or adaptation. No, he wanted to exploit this system without remorse, just as he had been doing since his arrival. He looked up at the buildings that towered around him, their elegance a sharp contrast to the crumbling structures of his homeland. “Why should they have it all?” he grumbled under his breath, jealousy pooling in his stomach. “I will bring my family here. They deserve this life.” The idea of his parents and siblings living off European welfare while spreading the “truth faith” of Islam filled him with a sense of purpose.

As he turned a corner, something gleamed in the dirt, catching his eye. He bent down, brushing away the grime to reveal a golden coin. It shone brightly, almost taunting him. **Wow, this might go for a good price!** he thought, his heart racing at the thought of his usual dealer, Muzaffar. “Hey! That’s mine!” a high-pitched voice squeaked. Rashid spun around, his heart racing. Before him stood a gnome, no taller than his knee, with a wild beard and a pointed hat that seemed to flop with every movement.

“What did you say?” Rashid challenged, his hand instinctively reaching for the knife tucked into his waistband. “I said it’s mine!” the gnome shouted, glaring up at him, defiance in his beady eyes. “I’ve been tracking that coin for ages!” “Yeah?” Rashid sneered, brandishing the knife. “You want it back? Come and take it.” The gnome held up a surprisingly steady hand. “Hold on, hold on! There’s no need for violence.” He looked at Rashid, sizing him up. “I can offer you something better.” “Like what?” Rashid scoffed, his grip on the knife tightening. “Three wishes,” the gnome declared, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “In exchange for that lovely coin.” Rashid hesitated, curiosity piqued. “Three wishes? What’s the catch?” The gnome grinned, revealing a set of crooked teeth. “No catch,” the gnome replied, shrugging. “But you’ll need to sign this EU-standard form regarding the chance-/risk-profile of wishes.” He produced a thick stack of papers that looked entirely out of place in the outdoors. Rashid furrowed his brow, flipping through the pages. “What the hell? It’s twenty pages long! I’m not reading all this!” Rashid protested, as he tried to hide that he was barely able to read. The gnome chuckled again, its laughter echoing in the quiet street, “After all, we are in Europe and not in your primitive Stone Age country. Everything has to be in proper order!” Rashid’s irritation was boiling over and he grumbled, “I don’t have time for this!” but the thought of wealth and power urged him on.

 “Twenty pages? And only the first quarter of the first page is about chances? This is ridiculous!” The gnome chuckled, “Just sign, and we can get on with it.” Grumbling, Rashid took the pen, his mind racing. “Fine. But if this is a scam—” “Not a scam! Just formalities,” the gnome interrupted, his tone cheerful. Rashid signed his name with a flourish and shoved the papers back. “Now, what do you wish for?” The gnome’s eyes gleamed with anticipation.

Rashid’s heart pounded. This was it—the moment he’d been waiting for. “I wish to be handsome, intelligent, and rich!”

The gnome's laughter filled the air, a mischievous cackle that made Rashid's skin prickle. "Oh, the classics! Very well, young man. Watch and learn." As the gnome waved his tiny hand, Rashid felt a tingling sensation course through his body. It started at his fingertips, sending a shiver up his arms, and then it engulfed his entire being. The change was instantaneous and profound.

He felt a cool blow on his face, and his hand flew up to touch his chin, only to find it smooth and bare. His coarse Islamic beard, the symbol of his manhood and faith, had vanished. The tracksuit he had worn, a testament to his perceived street credibility, transformed into a crisp, white button-down shirt and tailored pants, fitting him perfectly. The clothes felt foreign yet comfortable, as if he had always belonged in them.

"Ah, the transformation begins!" The gnome's voice echoed in his mind, as if reading his thoughts. "But it's not just about the looks, my dear Rashid. It's the mind, the very essence of who you are, that is about to evolve."

A tickling sensation in his brain made Rashid giggle, and then a rush of knowledge flooded his thoughts. Images flashed before his eyes—a boy riding a bike, the wind in his hair; a swimmer slicing through the water with graceful strokes; and a skater gliding effortlessly on ice. He knew how to do all these things, as if he had been practicing them for years. "Recycle, reduce, reuse," a voice whispered in his head. He understood the importance of the environment, the need to protect and preserve. "Whoa, I know how to swim!" he exclaimed, his voice filled with wonder. The gnome, seemingly pleased with the spectacle, nodded.

Suddenly, a sharp pain pierced through Rashid’s skull. “Ugh!” Rashid grunted, clutching his temples. “Knowledge!” the gnome sang, his eyes glinting mischievously. “It’s a powerful gift.” Rashid staggered back, his mind reeling. Images and concepts flooded in—equality of the sexes, environmental protection, the intricacies of Western philosophy. “What is this?” he gasped, tumbling to the ground as he wrestled with the torrent of newfound thoughts. But the gnome only watched, its arms crossed, amused and exclaimed, “Knowledge is flooding in!” Rashid clutched his head as the sharp pain radiated through him. “Ah! Stop!” he shouted, but it was too late. Due to his now sharper intellect new concepts twisted through his mind, unraveling the tightly wound beliefs he had held dear. “Islam… it’s just a superstition.” He staggered back against the wall, clutching his head. “No! This can’t be!” “Why not?” the gnome taunted. “It’s the truth. Islam is just superstition, a crutch for the weak, a tool for leaders to control the masses!” Rashid’s breath quickened. “No, that can’t be true! My faith—” “Is a façade!” the gnome interrupted, crossing his arms. “You’re just a pawn in a game you didn’t even realize you were playing. And now, look at you! You’re a pitiful weakling, only feeling strong among your ‘brothers’ with a knife in hand.” The realization hit him like a cold wave. “I was so blind! All this time, I thought I was superior! It’s… it’s all nonsense. My faith was a crutch, a way to feel superior without the means to truly be so.” A bitter laugh escaped his lips. “Honor? What a joke! I thought I was strong, but I was just hiding behind a knife.” “Precisely, you were strong only in delusion!” the gnome exclaimed, clapping his hands. Rashid’s laughter bubbled up, a mix of disbelief and relief. “I was pathetic!” he exclaimed, the weight of his previous identity lifting. “I can’t believe I thought that way,” Rashid stated, his voice filled with disbelief. “I wanted to bring my family here… to spread my beliefs. But they’re as lost as I was.”

As the searing pain in his head gradually faded, he became aware of the subtle changes taking place. His nose, once a prominent feature, seemed to shrink, reshaping itself into a more delicate structure. The rearrangement of his facial features continued, smoothing out the rough edges of his former self. "Ah, the wonders of magic," he whispered, his voice now carrying a hint of refinement. Rashid's attention turned to his hair, which had been as dark as a skunk's. But now, it shimmered with golden strands, transforming him into a vision of Nordic beauty.

The cologne he had doused himself in to mask his natural stink was no longer necessary. He inhaled deeply, bewildered by the subtle scent of fresh lemons that replaced the heavy musk of sandalwood he used to drown himself in. “What is this? I smell... clean?” His body odor had transformed, leaving behind a subtle, refreshing lemon fragrance. "Piano lessons, perhaps? Or maybe I should join a field hockey team," he mused, his thoughts filled with newfound interests and hobbies. The possibilities seemed endless, and Rashid felt a surge of excitement. Just as his thoughts began to wander, the world around him shifted. The drab walls of the refugee home were gone, replaced by an elegant mansion with tall columns and a lush garden. He stood there, in the heart of the city's most prestigious neighborhood, and marveled at his new surroundings. "Rashid no more," he declared, his voice echoing in the quiet street. "I am Rasmus, reborn and ready to conquer this new world." Rasmus, now fully immersed in his transformation, felt a surge of confidence and ambition.

His eyes, now a vivid shade of blue, scanned the mansion, taking in every detail. But amidst the excitement, a flicker of doubt creased his newly formed brow. *What of my family?* he wondered.

He recalled their lives in self-inflicted filth and revolving around the mosque, the strict adherence to primitive and cruel customs —days spent in idle chatter, evenings in crowded rooms, and a future with no prospects.

*They wouldn't fit in here. Not with their backward ways.* Their lack of education and skills weighed on his mind. He pictured their limited knowledge, their dependence on a language he now found crude, their inability to even swim, their unwillingness to adapt and their sole focus on survival and procreation. "What kind of life is that?" he muttered under his breath. "They're like animals, breeding without thought."

Suddenly the gnome's voice sliced the silence and breaking his train of thought , "Now, what is your final wish?" Rasmus turned, his bright blue eyes narrowing in confusion. "I thought I already had three wishes?" The gnome chuckled, its laughter like a tinkling of bells. "Welcome to Europe! It's a self-commitment with the consumer counsel society. You see, they believe that the first wishes might not always turn out as expected, and so, a fourth wish is granted to rectify any potential mistakes." Rasmus listened intently, his curiosity piqued. "Or, it could be an additional wish," the gnome continued, its eyes twinkling mischievously. "Perhaps you'd like to bring your family here, give them a taste of this life?"

Just then, a gust of wind blew a colorful flyer into Rasmus' path. He bent down to pick it up, his curiosity piqued. It was an advertisement from the local animal protection society, seeking donations for a noble cause. "Vets on Vacation—traveling to Greece to neuter street cats and dogs, ending their suffering" the flyer reads. The image of a stray cat and her litter tugged at his heartstrings, but it was the message that struck a chord. "Uncontrolled propagation leads to suffering," he read aloud.

The words resonated with him, and he thought of his family. Their lives, so different from his own now, seemed to mirror the plight of these animals. *They are like these animals, breeding without purpose, living off the system,* he thought bitterly. A rush of memories flooded his mind—his parents, siblings, aunts, uncles, and cousins, all dependent on his welfare money, trapped in a cycle of poverty and ignorance. "They sent me here to live off the generosity of others," he whispered, his voice laced with bitterness. "They are content with their ignorance, their lack of ambition." In that moment, Rasmus made his decision. "No," he whispered, his voice filled with determination. "They don't deserve to be here. They don't deserve this life." The gnome's eyes narrowed, sensing the change in Rasmus' demeanor. "And what is your wish, Rasmus?" Rasmus straightened his back, his blue eyes now cold and resolute. "I wish..." Rasmus began, his voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I wish for my family to be neutered. To end their suffering and the burden they impose on society."

The gnome erupted into a fit of laughter, the sound echoing through the air. “Very well!” In the blink of an eye, his relatives, one by one, undergoing a transformation. Rasmus could almost hear the cries of his parents, his siblings, his uncles and cousins, all the way from the other side of the world. The process was swift and efficient, and when it was over, Rasmus felt a sense of relief. "Consider it done," the gnome's voice echoed in his mind. "Your family's legacy will not burden the world any longer."

His family, his entire lineage, would no longer burden Europe with their presence. *Their Arabic heritage ends here,* Rasmus thought, his heart pounding with determination. *Only my new superior Northern genes and the Western way of life will prevail.*

Rasmus took a deep breath, his chest swelling with newfound determination. "But this is not enough," he whispered, his eyes narrowing. "I must ensure that others like them do not infest this great continent. These deceitful 'refugees' must be stopped from ruining Europe's harmony." He straightened his preppy attire, the crisp fabric of his shirt reflecting his resolve. "I, Rasmus, will dedicate my life to preserving the purity of this land. No more shall we be plagued by those who abuse our generosity. I shall find a way to protect Europe from the influx of these imposters."

He would use his newfound intelligence and resources to ensure that only the worthy would be granted entry, and that his new home would thrive, untainted by the ills of the past. With a nod of gratitude to the gnome, who had now disappeared, Rasmus set off, his stride confident and purposeful. He had a new life, a new identity, and a mission to fulfill. The old Rashid was gone, and Rasmus, the beacon of conservative European values, was ready to take on the world. "I will make a difference," he vowed, his voice carrying on the wind. "And I will ensure that my new home remains the beacon of civilization it was meant to be."

As he walked towards his mansion, a faint laughter, like wind chimes in the distance, followed him. It was the gnome, amused by the turn of events, but also proud of the man Rasmus had become. Rasmus didn't look back, for he had a new life to embrace and a society to protect from the very deceit he had once embodied.

[skrrts]

Heart's Contradiction Series * Hongjoong (mature!)

✧ gn!reader x hongjoong ✧ reader is a human ; hongjoong is a demon ✧ feat. wooyoung & seonghwa ✧ genre: au, soulmates, villains, romance, angst, emotional, comfort, supernatural ✧ word count: 12,9k ✧ warnings: adult language, death (non graphic) & rebirth, losing something important to you, loneliness, sadness, bittersweet, mdni!

in a world where finding your soulmate is everyone's highest goal, there is more at stake than just finding love. your soulmate is meant to change your life forever, for better or worse. what will you do when, after searching for so long, you come to realize that your soulmate is seen as the villain in somebody else's story, maybe even your own? the legend about the demon who tears lovers apart is as old as the soulmate bond itself, those who cannot endure living without their other half any longer call for him and in exchange for half of their lifetime, are united with their one right away until the monster returns to collect his price. when you heard noises on the second floor of your apartment complex, you didn't really think it through. the moment you pushed the door open and your gazes met, it was over. you know it's him, not because of the red string only visible to you but because soulmates are made of one soul and for the first time, you are sure to meet a pair of eyes that match your loneliness. time is a strange thing, you waited for something for so long, but as always, it's slipping right through your fingers. again.

a/n: this was meant to be the closing piece of the series due to the topics it covers but it ended up working easier for me to write. joong is the villain in the story of soulmates who give in to their longing to find them for a price. please make sure to read the warnings. if you decide to give it a read, thanks a lot 🤎

You made a face when Wooyoung placed the cake in your hands so he could lighten the candles. The topping said ‘Happy You Day’, fitting for somebody who did not like to celebrate their own birthday and your friend respected it by not using that word to decorate it. After years, he figured out you’d accept the cake but not much more. Birthdays just never mattered to you, not only because no family was there to celebrate it with you but you failed to see why one should only celebrate life on one specific day. It was even worse if one believed that soulmates really used to be one soul split into two on that day, even if they only were separated to finally be reunited.

“Make a wish,” Wooyoung smiled and you sighed a little but closed your eyes. What should you wish for? Your life wasn’t too bad, really. You were used to being alone, doing everything by your own efforts but also interests. From your childhood up to this point, you simply got used to that. You had friends, especially Wooyoung, but when you went home after a long day, that was it.

Unlike the entire world, you weren’t looking for your soulmate. There was not one way that worked for each to find them, fate was the asshole to decide over it, so why should you freak out about it? You were tired of the daily acts of desperation in the news: people who commited crimes to be with their soulmates, those who lost all will to live because theirs died or scammers promising to find it for you.

For Wooyoung to always be happy! It seemed like a good wish! You blew out the candles and watched Wooyoung with his cute, little claps and smile. He really was a great friend and you felt bad for being all grumpy about it. “Thank you for the cake, they get prettier every year,” you winked and he rubbed a hand over the back of his neck.

“I am working on it! Ah, I am sorry I cannot stay around this year to eat it with you, and that we are doing this on the street literally,” he sighed, looking at the watch. 

“Nonsense! You will absolutely get the job, this is my birthday after all and with this, I shall give you the power to fullfil your dreams!” You insisted and he was looking at you with a small smile.

“You really are amazing, Y/N. You know, I won’t ever stop admiring you… Hey, let’s meet on Tuesday and we cook together, okay?” You nodded and Wooyoung turned around, waving before he finally went out of sight and you sighed, lifting the cake up a little higher: “Now, what do we do with you? I won’t ever be able to eat all of you by my own until you can’t even survive in the fridge anymore.”

With some skill, you managed to get the cake safely back into your small apartment, placing it in the fridge for later before kicking off your shoes and leaving your bag and jacket by the door. It was Friday, this was probably the best of all birthday gifts because like that you could dodge most of your co-workers with their unserious wishes. 

You grabbed an energy drink, deciding to make use of it and binge-watch a show all night when you fell onto the couch. Upon searching for the remote, you leaned over to see if it fell into one of the cardboard boxes. It had been a few months since you moved in but there just were some you had no reason to unbox, memories of a time gone, unsure why you kept them. 

As you pulled out the remote, your eyes fell on a silly book. You picked it up and brushed over the dusty cover. Humans always loved to scare their children from doing something naughty with stories. The book was about an evil monster, one that came and promised you to find your soulmate but for that, you’d lose something else important to you, so if you saw him, you were meant to rush out of the room, close the door and repeat for him to go away. 

“Tch, considering how soulmates exist, who can blame some for believing this exists too.” 

It was an old story, one ironically everyone knew. It said if you called out for a demon, he would find your soulmate for you but in return, you had to sell your soul to him and one day, he’d just come and claim it and then you died. 

You dropped the book on the table and started the first few episodes of the show but somehow, you didn’t really get into it at all. The cake came back to mind again and you forced yourself up, cutting out a single slice and shoved a fork in your mouth. You did have to give it to Wooyoung , while his decoration skills had room for improvement, the taste always was on point. 

“This is how you spent your twenty-sixth birthday,” you nodded to yourself before suddenly, there was a loud boom which led for you to drop the plate with the cake, it crashed on the floor, shattering.

“Fuck!” you cursed and looked around, grabbing something to start and pick up the shards, followed by a towel to try and clean up. When you sat up, you paused. Not only because there was the same sound again, although quieter this time but most of all you were staring at your wrist.

“Hell?” you were good with cursing today it seemed but as you pulled on the red string around it, the thing wouldn’t move. “What’s this?” you blinked and crossed your legs, grabbing a knife but it seemed as it was invisible to the sharp blade. The third shattering sound from the floor above yours finally let you look up. 

You swallowed thickly, standing up and pulling on your sneakers, together with your phone and your keys. You kept pulling on the string as you walked up, taking two stairs at once. Above you lived a guy in his fourties, a drunkard because his soulmate left him, likely for that. Ah, just because a soul was matching yours didn’t mean all of them received their happy ending, sometimes the human mind just didn’t live up to it.

You stood there, hesitant for a moment, your hand wasn’t shaking when you reached for the doorknob but to your surprise, the door was unlocked. It opened without a sound and you found yourself in the middle of a strange scene. The body of your neighbor was lying on the floor, but it didn’t seem as if he was breathing anymore, a shelf next to him, likely one sources of the noises, and then there was a handsome man around your age that was pulling on a string around his wrist. 

He was cursing and said something you did not understand but he didn’t notice you yet. His brown hair was dancing around delicate features with silver eyes starring at his wrist. His outfit was … a bit strange, maybe it reminded you a little of what you saw people wearing in deserts, oversized comfortable white gowns made of soft fabrics, hinting of the build underneath without showing too much, a satin scarf tied around his neck, ears adorned with a great number of earrings and piercings. They looked slightly pointed towards the end.

It was the moment he looked up that your gazes finally met and it was strange but it felt like looking in a mirror. Not because the two of you would look anything alike but there was something in his expression: you knew the gaze of eyes who had gotten adjusted to being alone because they looked back in form of your mirror’s reflection every morning for the past decade. 

He finally moved, fingers snapping as he seemed to rush to the bathroom.

“Hey! What happened here?” You finally found your voice and walked towards him but you stopped when you saw that the said bathroom door turned into something that seemed to be pitch black water. 

You were staring now and suddenly, pulled forward by your wrist. You stumbled over some pairs of shoes and made a soft sound, this was one time too many but as you tried to get up, the pull continued and before you knew it, your eyes remained on a red string. It looked like the one around your wrist but somehow it was going through the apartment now.

The stranger was busy trying to obviously walk through the water but it seemed, every time he tried, it turned into ice and very slowly, he turned around. 

“They can’t be serious, what’s this?!” For some reason, you were quite sure he was still speaking that strange language but now you understood it perfectly.

Your gaze finally completed the picture, following the red string from his wrist back to yours. As you slowly sat up, you gave it a strong pull and this time, it was him who fell, almost on top of you. He cursed and glared darkly at you.

“Stop doing this! No, this is not right!” he hissed and struggled back onto his feet but it was of no use, neither of you seemed to be able to remove that strange red string, if anything the more you tried the shorter it seemed to get. 

“No no, this can’t be no… oh no, what is this?” he started to walk up and down, and very slowly, you managed not to feel like you were going insane. Your eyes returned to your neighbor and you swallowed.

“Is he dead?”

The stranger shrugged as he bent his hair back: “What about it? His time was up. He got what he wanted, he should not have made such a fuss now that I had come to collect the payment.”

“Payment?” You were suddenly dragged to your feet and stared at him when you were so close. To your surprise, he was warm. It was silly, you figured maybe he was something like a grim reaper but he felt awfully alive like that.

“He sold his soul to me 25 years ago, half of his lifetime in exchange for his soulmate. The irony is, sometimes humans naturally shorten their lives by going for the bond. This outcomes is likely more pleasant than dying from a drunk liver.”

You shivered when he held your hand and when he tried to brush through the black water once again, it worked.  You could see how he swallowed and let go, snapping his fingers and it was just a door again. He was defeated, disappointed confused, scared?

“Stop reading my emotions!” he cursed and you blushed, having been caught for doing something you did not even know you could do.

“I do not really get half of what you are talking about … you got his soul… like in the children’s book?”

The stranger was frowning at you now, confused about the fact that there was such a thing, or maybe, he had no idea what it was? Wait, if you could experience his emotions, did that mean he also… oh. 

“I guess, whatever that means. Do you live inside of this place? Let’s go there.” He started to walk again and you were dragged, hissing: “Could you maybe stop doing this?!” Almost as he was about to tease you, he tugged on the red string again. “The sooner you follow me, the earlier we can cut this off and be done. I have to go back to hell and I won’t go there with you.” 

There were two emotions you sensed: the first one was that this was a lie, the second was desperation, maybe more doubt.

You never heard that any pair of soulmates ever managed to cut their bond, surely some tried but it couldn’t be done. 

Hongjoong’s eyes scanned through the small apartment. He had been a deal maker for around four hundred years, he saw all kinds of homes and this one was not really out of the ordinary. He noticed the broken plate on the floor, splattered with cake. The demon was trying his best to keep his thoughts collected, the last he needed for you was to be able to sense the truth.

He had no idea what was going on. It was easy, every demon found its soulmate within one hundred years of birth, with no exceptions. Until Hongjoong was born and when everyone found theirs, there was none for him. Thus two centuries passed and he simply dropped it. What was the point of being sorrowful about it? If hell said there was no demon for him, good! This job was annoying enough. Humans were silly creatures.

Hongjoong wasn’t the only one but one who took many calls, likely due to not having a soul to share, no reason to desire more resting times. It was the human who called for a demon, not the other way around. It simply was practical, they were so willing to give and demons no longer needed to be violent to regain the energy needed to ensure the balance of the world remained. Not that humans would like to know that either.

He always told them very well what was to take place, the price of it but they never listened. When the time was up and he showed to collect their life time, they grew violent just for not wanting to finish a business they got rolling.

Now, several parts about this made it hard to stay calm: First, why the fuck was his soulmate a damn human, and how was it that he found you now? Souls who did not make foolish decisions usually went into a cycle of rebirth so … where have you been all this time?

No, he was not going to fall into this now! He needed to cut this off before it was too late. Hongjoong’s eyes wandered back to you as you tugged on the string, cursing him since he ignored how you complaint about how you did not clean up, not knowing you'd have visitors and how you ignored him.

Reading the other’s emotion and a string limiting distance was a demonic trait of soulmates, not one of humans. No, theirs never was as intense and sincere, much simpler. Then he only was able to pass through the portal to the gate with you by his side, in touch which meant.

“What? Do you think I am not hot enough to be your soulmate?” you puffed your cheeks. For a human, you were taking all of those new lessons well, really.

If you did not manage to cut off the bonds tho, your time as a human was running out. It seemed that your soul already started to accustomed to his demonic presence and with this, you likely would turn into one. Then, there was no way for you to stay here, your life would be over, and thinking how human souls always begged not to leave behind what they loved...

“What’s with those dirty old shoes inside of a home?” he pointed out, finally giving you some kind of answer. It was of no use, while there was no reason to put you into a spiral of panic for the moment, it would be easier to think if you stopped treating him like a puppy on a leash.

“Before you make a big scene, yes I am a demon and yes, we do have soulmates. Then, this one is a little different, you see when your soulmate is near, the string around the wrist appears and usually, it only leads you together, you follow it and then, each keeps the one on the wrist but that’s it. With us demons, that is different. We experience everything more intense, and because we benefit from our soulmate bonds, in exchange we always have to be together, our radius to be able to walk away is short so I guess, when we threaten to leave, the string reminds us of that.”

You turned your wrist around, looking at the red string and then back to him. At least, you were quick-witted and smart because you already took notice that the string, while there, was invisible to all around you. Clothes, and objects, they just went through it like it was made of air but you could not separate, it kept your souls together and with that, the bodies.

“Can I ask some stupid questions?” you asked and Hongjoong shook his head. “Can I ask for your name? C’mon, you just said we are soulmates, what’s with all of this hesitation?”

“I told you, not to read my emotions!” You were far too good at it. Hongjoong was trying his very best to keep it at bay, somehow it seemed rude to do just that and he wondered when he suddenly became shy around a human. “Hongjoong, that’s what my name means in your human tongue anyway.” 

Yours already adjusted to his though, another warning sign that things were progressing fast.

“Hongjoong, it’s cute! I am,” you suddenly stalked closer, whispering your name to him and he was naturally withdrawing. “What are you doing?”

Oh, how you judged him for this, not only the way how your head tilted and you looked at him: “What is it? What makes you so displeased about me being your soulmate? Is it the look? The name, or because I am human?”

He was glad you did not know that he was considered abnormal because you were gone for so long and he had given up that you existed. Urgh again, he agreed with himself he did not need a soulmate! No, he could not get emotionally attached to you now, not more than the string already forced onto the both of you.

“I do not need a soulmate, my life is busy. I work a lot and demons aren’t permitted to stay in the mortal realm for long. I just told you, demonic soulmates cannot separate and since I am one, this means we are in a hassle.” 

You were so much worse than he expected. Please, where was the terror, the screams, the begging not to be tied to a monster?

“So, just take me along then, problem solved. You said you cannot go without me and it seems easier for me to go with you, I just text my coworkers I found my soulmate and I am running off with him. They likely think I am desperate enough for it.”

You said that with such lightless that for the first time, Hongjoong allowed his emotions to go through, that sense of confusion but mostly, he was finally trying to read yours properly, going deeper than the bits of curiosity, and annoyance. 

Your words were so lighthearted proving you must be used to being like that because deep down, he found a familiar, radiant pain. No, you did not say it because you were reckless and curious, you seemed to believe there was nothing for you here.

Hongjoong forced not to look through your apartment again, now wondering where it was, those human affection everyone held and it was only now that he foolishly admitted he did not look at it from your perspective. Human lives were short, you couldn’t be older than your 20s but with that, you waited for quite some time. 

His silver eyes remained on the splattered cake and he walked over, opening that metal box you all used for food storage. The cake inside told him what he needed to know to put it together. It was your birthday. Humans always celebrate them with their families and friends. You were alone, eating cake. 

“You caught me, it’s my birthday! So in theory, you owe me because I was in the middle of a celebration when your noises scared the hell out of me… I probably should not use this word as a joke anymore huh?” This time, your voice wasn’t as convincing and you bit your lip because you also slowly got used to the fact that the two of you could sense the other’s emotions.

Hongjoong did not want a soulmate. He got used to being alone. It might be silly, foolish even but the demon’s greatest fear was simple: finding his soulmate only to lose them again. You never could truly miss what you did not know but losing it after you had it, oh having felt it, after watching his friends glow up and be with theirs.

The moment he’d give into the longing, there wouldn’t be a way for him to let you go again.

He didn’t want to push the burden of being with him onto you. It would be a lonely life for a former human to live in hell with its limitations just to be called to desperate souls, uniting them with their soulmate only to know the grief you’d push them through by the time when you returned to claim them. 

It didn’t change, Hongjoong had no idea how to cut it off because deep down, he knew that there was no way but it didn’t mean he couldn’t try to save your soul. 

He would.

“Well, let’s celebrate your birthday then.”

This was not what you expected him to say. For the past half an hour, your soulmate ignored you, broadening about your situation and now, he wanted to celebrate your birthday? 

His emotions were confusing because they seemed to change all few seconds, going through confusion, being upset, and sometimes, sorrow. That one hurt, it reminded you of whenever people told you that your loneliness would end the day your soulmate would come into your life.

Nobody ever said how to deal with that creeping fear. Everyone you loved was gone, what if finding your soulmate meant hope just to have it ripped from you again? How funny, you spent so much time cursing and asking simply for a soulmate that could not die, one that was instructable when you were a teenager. Then, there was no way to lose them, right?

Now, this had come true quite literally. 

“What do you mean?” you asked as you watched him carefully taking out the cake and placing it on the counter. There were so many questions you had, about him and hell since it seemed, the two of you would spend… however long you would be able to live with him together there.

“Humans care about birthdays, we do not do that. I mean, we have celebrations but we do not put up those,” Hongjoong explained. You loved to listen to his voice, it was calm and pretty. Ah, he looked like an elf, the longer you thought about it, the less it seemed like a monster. Then, maybe they were like angels in stories, taking a more human shape to please the souls and scare them less but would he have to even try when he came to claim a soul? 

“How do you put these on…” he asked pointing at the candles. There was no way to chuckle about it and he seemed to blush just a little.” Guess, it means you cannot spy fire or something.” Your fingers opened one of the drawers and took out a lighter. 

“Well, first thing you have to learn is that just like humans have countries and differ in appearance, so are demons. It really is just an umbrella term but no, as I told you, I’m a collector. We collect the life energy so I do not steal your soul before you ask about it. That doesn’t work since soulmates exists and you need to find yours again.”

You paused, surprised that he suddenly was sharing so willingly about it and it made you wonder if that was because he was upset your thoughts were so cliche or if it was sincere. “Wait, you are telling me that humans are really reborn and then you have the same soulmate in all of them?”

Hongjoong hesitated before shrugging: ”Something like that? I can’t really go into details.” Somehow, you could sense there was a ‘now’ he did not dare to speak and it just further added to your suspicion that he was trying to hide something from you. He certainly had reasons to dislike you, hell you even could see that somebody living for centuries was not too keen to suddenly have what must feel like half a teenager stuck by his side but was it really all?

“Here, we have those. You push that little wheel and then it makes fire,” you showed it to him, offering the lighter to him. Hongjoong seemed hesitant before he took it and you admired how soft his hands looked, hell must have a pretty impressive skin care. 

It was cute to watch him struggling just a little with it but eventually, all of the five candles were lighted again, minus the one you removed earlier when taking a slice from it.

Hongjoong was holding up the cake and for the first time, you noticed his pretty eyes had no reflection. There was a wave of hesitation all over him and it really was hard to figure out just what was going on in his mind. 

“Here,” he offered it to you and you blinked.

“Actually, I already… wait a second.” You decided against mentioning how you already made a wish because he put the effort in and you did not want to be ungrateful, rushing over to pick up two juice glasses and some mineral water, uncertain if demons consumed alcohol and you honestly did not have any at home anyway.

You poured two before sitting down, smiling, and closed your eyes, thinking how you wished, you could live a life with him from the start. It sounded stupid considering you just met him but maybe then, it would be possible, to be comfortable instead of awkward. 

As you blew out the candles, his expression shifted, suddenly it was strangely soft like he was looking at an old lover he had not seen for a long time and he was just admiring you before being caught and clearing his throat, gaze torn away to place the cake back on the table. 

“Okay then, let’s eat some of it,” he said and cut another piece off, placing it on a plate. You offered him a glass and smiled: “We have to do a toast too, that’s important. Let’s drink, uhm to be good soulmates. Next life, let’s be happy together!”

Hongjoong was making a face, it was as if he was about to say something but he just sighed and accepted the water glass, toasting with you before emptying it. 

“Now eat, you should enjoy the food. We do not really eat in hell;” he mumbled and forced the plate on your lap before looking away again. You mumbled something but took it, this time enjoying the flavor and for some reason, you got sad to think how now you never would be able to tell Wooyoung in person how tasty the cake was or to see how his decorative skills would improve.

You bit your cheek, reminding yourself that the demon by your side could sense it and he already seemed so against your idea to simply go with him. Your decision did not change, it just really made sense in your eyes, you had a few friends, especially Woo but that was about it. Their lives would improve once they found their soulmates and go on without you, nobody would grieve for you being gone for long, it was just how it was.

People were always torn away from you and you were forced to suffer alone but nobody ever seemed to feel like that about you. If they did not die, they just walked out never to return.

“I don’t look like that!” Hongjoong’s offended voice tore you out of your thought train and you looked up, seeing him holding up the children's book, finger pointing at the scary monster. “Sure, I am not the only collector but none of us looks like this! Also, what’s this with we steal your soul and will just disappear if you close the door and speak our name!”

You could not hold back the laugh because the demon was taking this so awfully seriously, you could feel how he was annoyed by the portrayal of the demons who helped humans find their soulmates in exchange for their lives.

“Well, it’s supposed to be a scary story. In the eyes of the people, your kin is somewhat of a villain, you know? Making use of the insecure humans who just want to find their missing piece and soulmate,” you explained and Hongjoong’s eyes glanced over it again before dropping it. 

“Tch, it’s them who calls us and we actually put the effort in to look good, so it is not scary at all.” You leaned in and for the first time, dared to come a little closer to him. “So you look different in hell?”

 Your soulmate was studying you carefully, before shrugging: “Not necessarily, let’s say our features are a little sharper, some of us do have like wings or horns but I’d not say… I have a hard time to assume if you find it scary, humans seem so easily terrified.” 

Interesting, then nobody really could blame them for being upset when angels always were portrayed so beautifully although their original descriptions were rather terrifying.

“What are you doing?” Hongjoong froze the moment you grew bold and your hands rested on both of his cheeks. His breath lowered and he looked down, to see how your fingers brushed along his sharp jawline.

“You are beautiful, you know? I mean it, you really are. I almost feel a little ashamed I am so… simple,” you whispered and to your surprise, he was now turning the tables. His movement was so quick and sharp, you did not see it coming how he grabbed your chin gently, lifting it a little as his white eyes looked over your face.

“I do not see it, you being simple. You are pretty, to me anyway. We are soulmates, you could look any shape or form and we are still meant to adore each other, you know? Now, what do I do with you? Not afraid, eager to move to hell, being so bold with a demon. You really want to come with me?”

You swallowed, throat went dry when his voice was husky at the end, almost a little threatening. Then, very slowly, you nodded. The red string around your wrists relaxed it wasn’t as tense anymore as it was in the past hour.

Hongjoong looked at you for a moment before withdrawing and standing up, when he acted, he always confused you because his emotions never seemed to match. There was this odd feeling of guilt that came over your connection but you had little time to think of it. When he asked you, the last you expected was the snap of the finger and how he simply carried you through the black water.

Somehow, you figured you would have some time to text your goodbyes before moving casually to hell. 

Hongjoong dropped you carefully, watching your expression as you looked around. Ah yes, humans had very specific ideas of what hell would look like and you were likely surprised to realize, that some parts of it did not look so much alike to your own world. The part where most of the collectors resided was not unlike an oasis in the middle of a desert, with elegant buildings craved out of sandstone, vast plants, and plays of water rushing through the city.

“This is different,” you breathed, looking around like you just ended up on vacation. It was hard to deal with your strong emotions, it seemed as time passed by, the bond increased and Hongjoong grew worried about how much time he would have to safe you before you’d turn into a demon. 

It was hard to tell why he was so adamant about it. Was it really only because once he grew accustomed to you losing you would be too painful or was it something else? He could not shake off this fear of how he somehow knew you’d not be able to endure the life of a collector, how every human begging you not to take their life often at their happiest…

His thoughts were interrupted when Seonghwa came around the corner, he was humming, his soul string relaxed. This guy somehow managed to cheat the soulmate bond, maybe because his soulmate was just as gentle and trusting but also cheeky as the older demon. 

It was when his gaze landed on the human that he froze: “You?”

You turned around and Hongjoong was quick to step by your side, forcing you to stand behind you. Not that Seonghwa would pose any threat to you or well, anyone else. Demons were quite strict when it came to soulmates, it was a big thing here, much more than up there for you humans. Hurting another's soulmates was considered the biggest crime.

“It’s complicated… but you need to help us to cut it somehow,” Hongjoong lifted his hand, pulling gently on the string. He was a little taken back to see his best friend all confused as he was looking at you strangely before finally, Hwa’s golden eyes focused on him.

“Okay, slow down there, Joongie. You just found your soulmate, let’s ignore it’s a human, and you want to cut it, now why would any sane soul do this?”

“I agree,” you announced and then just walked past him, causing a blush on his cheeks when you seemed so trusting with Seonghwa like you had known him forever. 

“Nice to meet you! This guy talks about cutting it off since we met, although I told him how I am okay to come here! I mean, my human life isn’t awful or anything but I have an easier time just coming here with him.”

Seonghwa’s features softened too much and Hongjoong was not sure why this somehow felt unsettling. He was trying to get himself together and rushed back to your side: “Why give up a life up there? I am perfectly fine on my own and humans, they have to stop thinking soulmate is the only option… there are plenty of people to pick.”

His best friend looked at him with a gentle smile before poking his forehead: “How about you slow down a little there, sir? You know that there is no known way to break that bond other than death. Not for us, we aren’t humans.” 

Hongjoong opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by Hwa’s strict demeanor. “Why don’t you go and get your soulmate something more comfortable to wear? Since one of the two of you is relaxed, it should be fine. Relax, that way the string will give you some space.” The taller gave his best friend a shove and sighed, only mumbling to himself and walking off.

Hongjoong brushed a strain of hair behind his ear, as he focused to listen to the conversation. Down here, his instincts and senses worked perfectly. Ah, he should have known Seonghwa just would be so open with you. His fingers suddenly felt a little shaky when he went through his room, starting to find something that would fit you.

“He’s really tense… I almost think he does not like me,” you whispered and Seonghwa leaned in, delicate fingers curling a strain of long dark hair around his finger. “It’s because we demons find our soulmates right at the start. You see… we only have this one life. If we fade, that’s it. Humans can be reborn, so I guess, he believes that in your next life, destiny will fix this for you. Hongjoong... tells himself he has long accepted to not have one but look at that.”

Your curiosity was of no help, Hongjoong picked something that should look cute and pretty on you. Maybe it was not the worst idea while he figured out how to fix this mistake.

“If you only have one life… what becomes of your soulmate if you vanish?”

Your question was too bold, humans had no taste for when to be tender with questions as Seonghwa’s features indicated pain. Hongjoong knew there was somebody his best friend knew once who lost a soulmate and there was a rule which made it hard to deal with it.

“As we are immortal unless something causes our death and there is no rebirth for us... losing your soulmate is said to drive a demon insane,” Hongjoong started as he stepped by your side again. “Thus, there is a magic some may consider a curse or blessing. If your soulmate dies, unlike a human who keeps theirs, the string vanishes and the demon forgets about them. Other demons are forbidden to ever speak about it, so the pain will not resurface. It’s rare tho.”

Why were you so sad about this? It was not just the emotions coming over the string but also your features.

“But this seems so cruel? Not to be able to remember the person you spent your entire existence with. I understand it… the pain of loss, of having to go on but I always rather remember than be forced to believe I always was meant to be alone.”

Seonghwa was silent as you said it and Hongjoong stood there, a little lost before sighing: “Anyway. Here, we can get you something proper another time… it should fit you. As you see, we all somewhat wear similar styles, just with changes in detail. It’s always the heat of Summer down here, you will see why it’s more comfortable.”

You turned around smiling: “Thanks, I’ll go and change… uhm.” Hongjoong pointed towards the rooms he just came from: “That’s where I live, take your time.” 

He nodded and only glanced as you rushed off.

“Joong, do you really want to cut the bond?” Hwa’s voice was gentle and if he did not know it better, his best friend seemed almost mourning about it.

“It’s better, I do not think that my soulmate is fit for this life … I do not want to push a human soul through the pain of collecting life energy, I am not sure that …"

He did not need to finish it, Seonghwa understood and the two of them just stood there in silence. 

You suddenly felt yourself shivering, it was hard to explain and certainly hadn’t anything to do with your new clothes which were surprisingly light and comfortable. It seemed the fabrics of demons were woven differently from what you knew from the earth. Hands rubbed over your arms when Hongjoong walked to your side, sighing.

“How are we supposed to do this together? Look at you,” he frowned and you looked as innocently as possible: “What’s with that feeling? You feel it too but you do not seem to mind it at all.”

For a moment, Hongjoong was silent before he took your hand and started to walk with you through the city. It was a strange place, the buildings elegant and carved beautifully. The demons barely reminded you as such, even those who had less human traits than Hongjoong and his best friend.

“You know, Hell plays an important part in the balance of the world. Heaven, Earth, Hell. We are one big circle that supports each other, as odd as that sounds for a human. A part of hell deals with the souls of humans who need to be led back to a righteous part while also harboring … what you likely imagine when hearing demon. To ensure that all stays the way it is, we need energy, think of it like humans need the sun.”

It seemed he was leading you towards the tallest building in the center, for once you managed to stay silent, indicating you were listening and Hongjoong nodded as he continued:

“When humans started to reproduce in great numbers, the energy on earth became too much. Thus, we started to seek ways to slow it down, and as we need energy to keep this alive, humans gave us the answer themselves. When they started to summon demons in exchange for leading them to their soulmates, it was a natural decision. No harm would come to humanity, but help to balance the numbers of souls ever so eager to be reborn at once. You see, a soul isn’t directly reborn. It waits for the soulmate until a matching moment is found and only then do they come back. Ah, let’s not bore you with the detail.”

You wanted to disagree, just needing a moment to put his words into a larger picture as you walked passed a small crowd but nobody seemed to mind a human walked among them. 

You entered a room that looked surprisingly like a library just with files, Hongjoong seemed to naturally find the one he was looking for. He placed it on the table so you could have a look, a woman in her late 30s, made the pact at the young age of eighteen and you slowly understood, thinking of your neighbor.

“Because demons are so sensitive to soulmates, we can forcefully make the string appear and with that, find their soulmate. As I mentioned before, when they agree, the contract is written here but there is one thing humans often do not consider. Their lifetime can change, a reckless decision, an addiction. Somebody meant to reach the age of a hundred might live fifty years with their soulmate but shorten it to forty because of an addiction. That is not our problem tho. When their estimated time is up, you feel this shiver and you will know which one it is as you were the one to have made it.”

Before you could say anything, Hongjoong took your hand and this time, his grip was firm as he snapped his fingers and the water appeared. 

“I do not want to be cruel but I guess, the only way for you to see why you are not made for this is to see both by yourself. Soulmates work together, if you stay with me, every day, every call, you have to come with me, no exceptions.”

Suddenly, you stood in the middle of a fancy house, wide open doors showed a beautiful garden with a play of water and the humming sound of a woman who was watering her flowers. This was somebody wealthy but money could not give you a soulmate, right? “Do you know why she’d have died so early on?”

Hongjoong looked at you, nodding: “It is part of the note but sometimes, it is better not to know too much.” With that, he let go of your hand but the string soon forced you to follow as he stepped outside and the woman turned around. The moment she saw Hongjoong’s beautiful features, she grew pale.

“No,” she gasped, the water jug dropped to the ground, spilling clear water everywhere. “It is much too early! You cannot be here yet, it must be a mistake.” The average human life was anticipated to be around eighty to ninety, now many even reach their hundred. You were not surprised how she must be surprised to face death now, like that. Beautiful but sharp.  

“Your death date has been concluded and thus, I am here to collect the price in exchange for our deal made. It will be quick, you won’t feel a thing,” it was odd for Hongjoong, who usually spoke with so much impatience or worry, to lack any emotion. You swallowed as you reminded yourself how this had been his life from the beginning of his existence and based on his words, he must have lived for quite some time already.

“No listen, my daughter, she’s just done with high school! I just need a few more years!” the woman begged but the demon seemingly remained unaffected. 

"We have fulfilled our part of the deal, now it is time for you to do so as well.”

Her gaze was a mixture of hatred and desperation as she grabbed him, starting to shake your soulmate: “Is this all you monsters have to say?! You make use of poor humans in misery, longing for their other part, and then just treat us like objects! You truly are a monster. Bless god, my daughter already found hers, I will not have to worry she will lose her soul to such a monster like you.”

This was the moment her eyes fell on you, staring like she barely could make sense that a monster would have a soulmate and it made you wonder if it meant those affected by a pact could see the red string connecting your wrist.

“How can you?!” she did not get a chance to finish her sentence, Hongjoong snapped with his fingers and she simply fell to the ground like she just lost consciousness. You swallowed as you watched a ball made of radiant white and golden light seemingly leave the body, the golden one going up, while Hongjoong took the white into his hand and made it disappear.

“It’s a quick death, it just stops. She has not committed any crimes, her soul will remain in the good realms until her soulmate has passed as well and they can start over”, Hongjoong concluded and looked at you.

It was the moment the door opened and a man walked in. You noticed how his red string looked different from yours, it was clean like it was made of one piece rather than the cut-off ends that indicated the connection to another. 

The moment he saw his wife’s body, the sound of his voice, your heart cracked and Hongjoong could sense how you thought of him as cruel, for forcing you through experiencing all of it. He did not pull you away, offered no comfort and did not let you go back to hell because he wanted you to see what it meant to make a pact with the devil, the villain of the story of desperate soulmates.

You hated how tears dwelled at the edge of your eyes but you were not sure why, death stopped touching you such a long time ago.

When you received news of your mother's passing, it was first hard, by the time your grandmother left as well, did you really get used to it or did you barely alter yourself focusing on the memory of the calm face that looked at you in the mirror, asking if being alone wouldn’t be easier, kinder.

Finally, the familiar snap appeared and Hongjoong led you back to hell. 

“Do you want a blanket? I can get you one if you are cold,” Hongjoong’s voice was soft, worried. When you came back, you just curled up as a ball on his bed. The thought of this repeating tomorrow was hard, could you get used to it? You’d have to! Not only because you talked so boldly about being fine like this, but it was not as if you had an option.

Did you want an option?

It wasn’t your question but a wave of emotions formed into words coming from him. Hongjoong had tried to be soft, caring even and it was strange. Finally, he seemed to have enough of your lack of answers, he sat down at the edge of the bed and gently but forcefully turned you around.

Tears remained in your eyes and his fingers were so gentle, it almost broke you. For a moment, you imagined what it would have been like to meet Hongjoong as a human. Somehow, you thought how he would have been somebody gentle and kind, maybe a painter, focused to find beauty in the detail or a florist, creating art that made hearts bloom.

Why was he born a demon, forced to do this work alone?

Alone. No, he wasn’t alone anymore. You should get yourself together! Maybe there was a reason for it, maybe not but it was on you to make the most out of this bond.

“Stay with me,” you whispered and his arms curled around you, pulling you close. “Not like I can go anywhere,” he teased and you chuckled. “True.” 

You allowed your face to burry against his neck, only noticing now how he had this faint scent of wildflowers, maybe a herb your grandmother used for tea, it was hard to tell why but it was familiar, like you once were used to have it around you.

“Tell me about you,” you whispered after a while, no longer crying as his hand kept gently rubbing over your back, his chin resting against your hair so you could hide against his chest from the world. “What do you want to know?” he asked, thoughtful as his movements held for a moment. 

“Mh, anything? We can skip food, since you say you do not eat but what do you like to do? What are your hobbies? Placed to go, things to do? Let’s pretend there are no stupid rules or limitations.”

He chuckled again: “You always ask the big questions or too many at once but let’s see… I like to paint or I used to. For a while, I had the feeling like there was something important I forgot and it would help me remember but all I got together were places I saw but whose meaning seemed odd. Sometimes, on days when the hours I have up there are not spent on work, I like to walk the human world at night. The fake lights making your cities look so breathtaking from afar, fireworks, the scents of food. People just going by with their lives with so little worry about their futures. I also like the beach, we do not have oceans here, not ones made of water.”

It was fascinating to imagine Hongjoong, just walking along those places, eyes bright and shining like the ones of a child.  “We should go and do that then, you know? I can show you a few, we eat food, explore the beach and look at the fireworks. It is Summer now, a good time.” Hongjoong fell silent for some time, you could feel the heavy sorrow like he just was reminded of something.

Maybe he just made a decision.

“I would like that.”

The next two days felt like a familiar fever dream. Waking up holding you in his arms, the way you smiled at him so easily like he was not the one who stole your life, your careless curiosity, the way you enjoyed exploring the city, endless stories to share which made him wonder why you spent your birthday alone.

For a moment, Hongjoong was weak. Suddenly, he enjoyed it, the idea of having you by his side, how it could be like if you remained with him, the life shared together but the day he woke up and started to note the little changes to your features, the way how your ears were a little more pointed.

He realized time was ticking. Soon, he would have to make a decision or there wouldn’t be a way around it. Little did he know how he would find his answer when the call was sudden, a harsh painful cry for a demon to appear. 

You dropped a plate of colors as you felt it, wincing and Hongjoong was quick to be by your side, cupping your cheek: “Don’t worry, it is okay. It is rare for summons to be so sharp, they usually are a little more … desperate.”

It was hard to tell if fate was just cruel tho, to force this one on the two of you after a few peaceful days without interruption. “Are you ready to go?” he asked and you looked at him, hesitant but nodding, taking his hand and giving it a squeeze: “Let’s go.”

The apartment you stepped in was a mess. Books and papers laid around, clothes, a black cat plushie and the smell of freshly baked goods. Nothing he hadn’t seen before. 

It was your reaction that made him pause, the sharp gasp when you inhaled, the shiver that run through your body but before Hongjoong even had time to ask, tears rushed down your cheeks, and the one who called stepped out of the bathroom. 

It was a handsome man around your age, long black waves falling into his face, a jacket clinging to the shoulders. His eyes were wet, the vibe a mixture of desperation and pain. Finally, Hongjoong’s eyes stuck on a photograph. A graduation scene, him and you, posing together with your degrees.

“You are the demon that can find my soulmate?” he asked voice husky, indicating he must have cried for some time.

“Wooyoung?” as you called out his name, the man looked at you. It was hard to tell if it was a curse or a blessing at this point, because you came with the demon and the progress of change started, he did not recognize you anymore.

“You have a soulmate?” he swallowed, his gaze was on you for a moment. Zhe hard gasp leaving your lips were hard to endure. When you moved, Hongjoong just froze. “No, Wooyoung listen! You do not need to do this! Your soulmate will come to you in time, do not give up your life time for this!”

Finally, the demon acted and pulled you back. There was a simple rule, if a demon answered a call, no going back. If the humans wished for the pact, it would happen. The way you tried to free your wrist was hard to take but Hongjoong was firm.

The human seemed confused as he watched the scene, not understanding why the demons meant to help him would suddenly tell him not to.

“I want to do it. I just lost another person … I can’t go on and wait to be alone. I rather die young being loved than be alone most of my life. Do it.”

He was talking about you, both of you knew it and somehow, it finally gave you the rest. You sunk to your knees and cried, the air full of tension. Hongjoong tried his best to deal with the emotions through your bond and it was hard, he felt dizzy and overrun by your grief and sorrow but eventually, he managed. The red string appeared but it was made of a single piece, with no ends for a string.

Wooyoung looked at it before Hongjoong found his voice: “I must reject it. There is nothing I can do for you.”

Confusion radiated from both of the humans and Wooyoung made a step towards the demons.  “What do you mean by that?!” Hongjoong paused. There was one, rare occasion, where even the willingness of a human was pointless: if the soulmate already passed away. It happened often, it was fo those who waited all thei life, thinking how they never found this one person. 

“Your soulmate already passed over for the next life. In this one, go and find a love that your heart longs for, not so much your soul. It does not have to be any less fulfilling just because it is not made of a string.”

This time, Hongjoong spared you the reaction of your best friend, he dragged you through the water before any of you could witness it.

As you dropped on the floor of his home, you cried, you would not stop at all but Hongjoong did not have the cruelty to go down and try to soothe you. Somehow, he knew you would reject it.

“He won’t remember this, the moment we leave, he just will have this realization that he knows his soulmate will not find him but as I already told you… there will be a next life.”

Of course, it offered you no comfort. The tears would not stop. Finally, Hongjoong swallowed and he went on his knees, he was terrified for you to push him away because hewas about to steal the life of likely the one human you did care for, the one that baked you the cake and he did not even hesitate.

To his surprise, you allowed him to pull you closer, burying your face against his shoulder.

And as he held you, experienced every one of your emotions, he knew. You were not meant for this life and now, the answer was simple.

When he first waited to find you, he always said he’d do anything for his soulmate, once they would be together, make them happy. In a time before he told himself he was better off alone.

He would protect your soul now too, which would wither like a flower if you stayed.

There was no way to cut the string of souls.

Except one.

“You look different…” you looked at him. Seeing Hongjoong in streetwear, he was almost looking human, just a little prettier than any you encountered. “Blue hair would suit you well, you know? Goes with your white eyes.”

Hongjoong blushed, this was the first time he was doing it so obviously but it made you giggle. “What about it? I do not get why you guys like those jeans so much… the tank top is okay but why do you wear it when you need a jacket on top? Wouldn’t it be easier simply to wear a long sleeve to begin with?”

You still were surprised when he took you to a mall earlier, asking you to pick an outfit for him and then, one for yourself. It took your hours but he insisted on taking your time. Of course, you guessed he wanted to distract you from what happened yesterday, something you tried your hardest to push aside, forget but Wooyoung’s face still haunted you in your dreams. 

Maybe this was a good idea, getting out for a little, spending time with your soulmate. You could not just let Hongjoong down, could not tell him this was too much for you, not after all you forced him through, promises you made so carelessly.

“It’s because if it gets hot, you just take off the jacket and won’t sweat but if a wind is coming up, feel warm and snuggly. You also can give it to your partner, you know? That way, they can show it off, it’s like a more comfortable way of soulmate string.”

Hongjoong just looked confused but you liked it, your arms curled around him as he snapped his fingers and opened a portal. It must be late afternoon, the smell of the ocean was quite strong, and there were many voices, giggles of couples, and laughs of families alike.

A festival? Ah, that was right, there was one around a week after your birthday. Had only such a little time past by since you met Hongjoong? Just one week? 

“I was thinking, you could get us some food, we do… whatever humans do here and then, enjoy the fireworks.” Hongjoong seemed almost shy, forcing his gaze away as he asked you to go for that. It was almost like a date and the thought excited you! “Leave it to me, we can do all of the things. Ah, is it okay to be like this?”

You gently tugged on his arm and his gaze met you, it was soft and loving as he nodded: “I do not mind it. Humans can see us since we came here on our own accord but they should not spend any special notice of us, since my magic shelters us just enough.” 

You thought again of just how warm he was, the way his skin was soft and he smelt so nice, like a memory. “Noted, I promise it will be fun and then we can go back in no time.” Hongjoong shook his head: “Don’t worry… about that. Just let’s have fun okay? Like there is no tomorrow.” 

Ah, he was always so dramatic but then, this surely was his first time here, so you wanted to make the most out of it. 

You did not waste time, you dragged him over to all kinds of stalls, all the times you watched others do this with their lovers. There were silly games where you had to catch rubber ducks, the owner was sure Hongjoong was cheating just because he was too good at it.

Food was a whole different thing, demons were not required to eat, but they could if they wanted to although, Hongjoong noted how their flavor wasn’t as developed as the one of a human. Still, you ended up buying some chocolate strawberries and feeding them to him slowly. The way his face flushed when he dropped the first, nervous when he was chewing the second, and deciding how he liked it. Everything was new to him and his curiosity was quite obvious shared over your bond.

It was good because it helped you to relax and forget about the worries for a little. The sun was sinking deeper when there was a cliche moment, of somebody playing music and couples watching, some dancing and enjoying the play of the violin with an acoustic guitar. 

“I always wanted to learn how to play one of those but then I just skipped it, didn’t have the patience,” you admitted, pointing at the violin. Hongjoon hesitated, lurking over to a human couple before he placed himself right behind you, arms curled around your waist as he rested his chin on your hair.

This time, it was you who blushed but you relaxed into the hug, allowed to enjoy his presence, the way how your heart was beating louder now. “Learn it, you never are too old to learn, you know? Even if it takes a long time, do what your heart calls for, remember that the only limits are the ones given by yourself and social expectations. You are not too old to learn, and you can be happy without your soulmate, love will be there if you want it.”

His words touched you and you looked up, trying to get a glimpse of his face but he did not move. “Well, I have a soulmate so I do not have to worry about that.”

You chuckled and for a moment, you were sure to catch his smile before he let go of you, squeezing your hand as he nodded towards the beach. “It will get dark soon. We should head to the beach, for the fireworks. I’d like a spot alone for us.”

Was it already this late? “Ah sure, let’s go!”

Hongjoong helped you to get over some rocks which were intended to keep people away but it did not seem to bother the demon. He held you gently as he led you down a path and found just the perfect spot in the sand. As you sat down, he noticed your shiver and obviously, remembered something. Hongjoong stripped out of his jacket and placed it over your shoulder.

It was the moment when your gazes met and if you did not know better, it seemed his heart was breaking. Thre was a brief moment of sadness but it was washed away by happiness so quickly.

“You know, I lived a long life, and I think, considering all, it was a happy one. I look at it and I think, I received everything a demon could hope for.”

His hands cupped your face once more and you blinked: “What’s with all of this past tense?” You wanted to sound casual but somehow there was a hint of worry, like you should be alarmed but your thoughts were interrupted once more as you kissed.

You gasped because the kiss was far too familiar to be a first one like the body remembered something the mind did not. Slowly, your eyes shut and you gave yourself into it, it was sweet and tender, longing for one another. Your arm curled around his neck and for some time, you simply remained just like that, only interrupted by the cracking explosion of fireworks over the sea, the sun now gone for good. 

Hongjoong gently broke the kiss, his fingertips brushing your hair away as he smiled, this was the happiest smile you had seen from him.

“Let’s enjoy the firework”, he whispered and pulled you closer, his arm curled around your shoulder. You snuggled against him and only slowly, forced your gaze to look at the colorful lights painting a picture over the ocean. You had seen many fireworks before but this one felt more breathtaking.

“Y/N…” Hongjoong mumbled.

“Hm?” 

“You should always celebrate your birthday, you know? Make it big, go and wish for whatever you want. Eat cake at the busiest places.”

“Mh, we can do that together,” you nodded.

“I’d have liked to celebrate more birthdays with you cause I hate the thought of you doing it alone,” he whispered.

Finally, the fear set in with you as you turned around and noticed how soft white light was radiating from Hongjoong’s body, something you saw before, a soul passing.

“Why would you say that?” you whispered. Oh no, no no.

Hongjoong smiled: “Live a happy and silly long life, okay? You got still good sixty years ahead of you, do all those things you want to.”

He was disappearing. Seonghwa said the only way for a demon to die was when something harmed them or they spent too much time in the human world. But you weren’t here for longer than maybe four hours… but it was based on a week, not a day. The shopping trip. Oh no.

“Don’t leave me,” you whispered but he tightened his embrace again. 

“You aren’t alone, silly. People are here for you, maybe not the way you think of them but here, for birthday cakes and text messages. To love you. Just trust it.”

Hongjoong looked at you and smiled, his hand placed on top of your head, ruffling your hair.

“But I want to be with you! Hongjoong!” you called out but the sad smile already told you that it was both, too late and him having made up his mind.

“I am sorry, Y/N. I need you to live a long and happy human life, okay? I won’t ever forget you.”

He leaned in, his lips closed as he slowly seemed to vanish. “Close your eyes,” he pleaded. As you looked at him, you regreted how little time you spent with him, how you did not just sit down, admiring his beauty for hours and... and you tried your best to close your eyes when the tears would not stop following.

Please, not again, not again. Please, do not take him away from me.

You begged to somebody, anybody but just as all the times before, they would not answer you.

As you kissed you, the sob ran through. 

“Thank you, Y/N, for finding me,” he breathed. He did not need to say it, you felt it. Once and for all, as clear as the sky above your head.

Hongjoong loved you. It was such a strong feeling, overwhelming but comforting, you wanted to whisper it back but it was stuck. Yet, somehow you felt he was smiling like he was telling you he knew you felt the same. As he leaned back, you felt his breath tickling your face, his hand on top of your head.

“Count to ten,” he whispered. You forced your eyes to remain shut, counting. Yet his picture in your mind clear as the day.

The confusion when you first met, the little annoyance, the blush, the look in the morning and his smile earlier.

10…9 … 8…. 7 …. 6

“Next time,” he whispered.

5… 4… 3…

“I’ll find you,” you promised.

…2

"Please wait for me."

….1.

The last firework exploded over your head and you opened your eyes. You blinked, confused and looked up. “Uh, what the fuck? Why am I crying over some fireworks?” Fingers stopped as you tugged on a jacket that was far too big for you but you liked the scent, wildflowers, something familiar.

As you carefully made your way up to the road again, you still did not manage to stop crying, just what was it? Some threw glances at you as you must seem like you just had the worst week of your life. Why was your heart so full of sorrow?

“Y/N? Hey, there you are, I was looking for you the entire week and then your location was very vague! Are you okay?”

Wooyoung’s face showed up and you blinked, his slender hands reached for your face and he scanned over you to see if you were injured, maybe hurt somehow. “How did you find me?” you asked, just to say anything but your friend seemed confused about the question. 

“You sent a text?” he pulled out his phone. “I admitted it didn’t sound like you but then, you did not show up at work for a week. I guessed something must have happened.”

A week huh? You looked at the text, coming from your number and this was the first time you noticed that little heart next to your name, making your cheeks heat up. 

text: firework, today, pick me up after. thanks.

Why was that? Then suddenly, it hit you like a realization and you looked up to Wooyoung. Ah, this was why it was hurting so much.

“I figured out that my soulmate is already… gone. I guess, as much as I always said it’d be fine without one… learning there really isn’t one was a bit much., especially if you never really met... or well, I am not sure how to describe the feeling”

Wooyoung seemed to be surprised before understanding: ”It’s probably insane but…same?” For a moment, the two of you just stood there, people passing by who went on their way home after the firework was done and the festival shut for the day. 

“Do you want me to drive you home?” his voice was soft, and there was some colors on his cheek. For a moment you looked at him and realized, Wooyoung had been part of your life for so long, always putting effort in but you had been so busy with your loneliness that you overlooked it.

Now you saw him clearly.

“I’d like that.”

Seonghwa relaxed against the small food stall, the owner ever so busy preparing more snacks. His soulmate joined him, a sweet smile on her lips as she followed his gaze. 

You and Wooyoung were chasing one another along the sandbank before he would catch you and pull you into his arm, soft kisses given to one another. The two humans seemed relaxed and happy, with each of them having a red string attached to their wrist, made of one piece, indicating their soulmate already moved on from this life, waiting in the next.

“I admit, I did not believe it was possible,” Seonghwa sighed but he was smiling. “Demons aren’t reborn but then, maybe they are? I am not sure if these two demons just have been so excellently stubborn that they managed to define our nature.”

His long arm curled around his soulmate, placing a kiss on top of her hair. 

He remembered the day like it was yesterday, the way how your past life looked at him so confidently, you never lacked confidence once you made your mind. When you knew you could not live for eternity like that, collect souls because you knew, Hongjoong would not be able to withstand it forever. He just was telling himself it was what he would do. How he dreamt of all those human things, caught in a life of pain. So when you left a century ago to set it into motion, so he could able to be free with you one day, you did so thinking he’d follow you no matter what.

Seonghwa's gaze lingered on your wrist. A demon’s string disappeared when they died, it made sense why yours was gone until you met Hongjoong. You weren't a demon anymore but human, his fading when you died the first time but returned once reunited. Fate never changed its mind once picking soulmates for one another.

Seonghwea sighed, looking up: “I bet, my best friend is somewhere vibing right out there, grinning like an idiot because he really managed to be reborn as a human, forever together with his beloved.”

He laughed: “Good! I do not expect anything but many happy lives from now on, Joongie.”

A life or so later …

“Y/N, you need to bring a date,” Wooyoung wined on the other line of the phone. It was hard to ignore your best friend even while being in the middle of a painting class. “It is my wedding, just bring anyone, really! I get it, you are super old-fashioned waiting around for Mister Soulmate, whom I feel sorry for based on your expectations: handsome, warm, smelling like flowers. Not easy to fulfil all of that”

You rolled your eyes as you dropped the brush and looked at your piece of art. “Well, being a professional violinist and having a needy best friend already keeps me busy, so I am good. If you care, I will bring somebody for the wedding. Now go, you do not want to miss your final suit fitting.” Wooyoung muttered but ended the call.

“Mh, this is familiar,” Jongho suddenly appeared next to you, making you jump. “How are you so quiet?” You asked but your fellow art lesson classmate grinned at you: “Secret, but I mean it. I think, there was a similar painting. Ah, wait a moment.”

He returned with a flyer from the art class: “Here, it’s one of the examples. It was painted by a former instructor a few years ago, Oasis in the desert. I mean, it isn’t exactly the same but it’s the same place? You said you just painted it out of your imagination?”

You could not deny how striking similar they were, just that you were by far not as talented as this person, barely an amateur painter as a small escape from your busy life as a violinist. ”Not at all… maybe it was a photo I once saw.”

Jongho frowned a little: “If you say so… You could just ask him tho? He’s a famous painter these days but I heard, he was giving a lecture today, on the other side of the building.”

You made a face, wanting to say if that would not be a bit strange but decided to keep the thought for yourself. “Anyway, I have to go. Need to get a wedding gift, I see you for the next class.” You waved, taking your bag and making your way to the exit.

It was the noises of falling shelves making you jump. You looked around until you noticed an open door of one of the art rooms. As you took out your phone, just in case it was an emergency, you paused.

“Hell?”

You blinked, looking at a red string around your wrist. For a moment you paused, in awe that it showed. You heard about it but you were about to give up. The noise again, a gentle hiss and you finally forced yourself to move.

A head of blue hair caught your attention first as you entered the scene of a few dozen empty canvases having fallen over and likely in an attempt to pick them up, led to more fall down, just that the man now was busy tugging on a string on his wrist.

There it was so clear, the red string, it remained visible just for your gazes to meet before all that was left were the strings, indicating that they had another end it belonged to.

“Are you okay?” you asked, unable to hide that little grin as your soulmate’s cheeks flushed and he managed to get himself up.

“Uhm, yes! I was trying to prepare an art lesson! Well, it seemed the art disagreed with me there,” he blinked and you could not deny how pretty he was. The blue hair seemed a little strong against his pale skin and features that almost felt a little unnatural for a person, too many piercings decorating his ear, an oversized jacket clinging to his shoulder like it was meant for somebody else.

“Need some help?” you asked and closed the door. He looked at you, almost lost when you stepped to him.

“That would be nice,” he whispered and blinked, pressing a hand against his eyes. “Uh… I swear I usually do not cry when I am meeting people.” Yet there he was, crying and somehow, you almost felt as if you could feel it.

“No worries, I get that,” you replied and closed the distance, suddenly hugging him.

He smelt like somebody familiar and before you know it, his arms curled around you. “Took you long enough, I was waiting forever,” you whispered, not sure why you said it.

It felt right and somehow, he knew exactly what you meant.”

Hongjoong sighed: “Sorry for being late.”

closing note: if you read up till here, thanks a lot. it was meant to end with hwa's pov but you know.

[sillyteenagegirlinlovewithblocks]

Beauty and brains.

Pairing: Garroth Ro’Meave x reader.

CW: a little nsfw but nothing to crazy.

A guard must stay on high alert at all times, So much can happen in the blink of an eye.

Sir Garroth devoted head guard of Phoenix Drop, a loving husband and soon-to-be father.

Y/n has always been proud to be by his side as his wife, he gave confidence like no other. It's hard to not feel safe around him. He moved like a striking cobra, swift and silent, intercepting the thief before anyone even noticed the danger, His eyes, sharp and alert, missed nothing. He stood with an air of quiet confidence, a reassuring presence in uncertain times.

As he arrives home from an all-day shift he calls his wife’s name in his deep sleepy voice.

Just as he began to call out for her here comes his very pregnant wife running downstairs like she isn’t. Causing him to quickly run up to her and grab her to stop her from going so fast.

“ oh my lord beauty, you cannot be doing that. what if you tripped? “ he asks in a worried tone. While slowly and gently pulling her to him until she’s close enough for him to bring her into a kiss.

“ I’m sorry dear, I’m just excited to see you” she expresses with a bright smile that lights up the whole room.

“ I know brains but you must be careful. That’s my wife you could accidentally trip” he whispered against her lips while running his hands up her and stopping to secure themselves on her hips, while hers a placed on his shoulders. They kiss each other so passionately that every kiss feels like heaven sent him an early look at what he will get for his work.

“Why don’t you change up and I’ll be up in a minute, I just have a few more things to finish” y/n states while pulling away. Garroth starts whining but that doesn’t stop y/n from pulling back and pushing him to go up the stairs and get ready for bed.

After some time y/n finally headed up for bed herself in perfect time too because Garroth had just finished cleaning himself up and putting his nighttime clothes on but I’d hardly call them clothes it’s a pair of clean work pants that he uses just for bed.

While Garroth lays down on the bed his wife undresses in front of him to change into her nightgown causing her husband to shoot right back up and reach his hand out to touch her leg but she has a plan to tease him and walks away leaving him laying at the end of the bed with his arm out still from his attempt at caressing her leg.

“ oh brains you kill me, I’m a tired man put In a world I do not understand please don’t make it harder for me” he begged it she ignored and put her gown on. Then turns herself to face him with this smug look on her face in exchange Garroth rolls his eyes and throws himself back to the top of the bed where he began left to just stare at the ceiling.

“ awe don’t be upset with me” she teased “ I didn’t mean to make you upset “

she began making her way up the bed and crawled up to him until she could rest her hips on his. bring her head down to kiss his right arm that is resting on his side and making her way up to his shoulder, neck then face.

“ Forgive me dear?” she asks for forgiveness. He lets go of a satisfactory moan he seems to have been holding back and nods silently. Y/n continues to kiss his neck and run her hand up and down his chest to his shoulder, while she is she feels a lumpy feeling in his shoulder towards his back. She sits up to feel it better and see what she is looking at.

“ oh wow this is a very big lump, how are you not in so much pain” she blurts out, slightly rubbing it.

“It's nothing my whole back is that way I do not focus on it even if it is painful to me I have no time to rid myself of it so I do not worry nor should you beauty,” she says running his hands up up her waist and resting on her arm. She looks at him with a sympathetic look on her face.

“ Turn around “ she commands him.

“What brains?” He questions but quickly it’s shut down with her demanding he turns around again and she sits her body up to attempt to turn him herself, thinking he complied quickly and turned around. Slowly she began running her hands up and down his back trying to find every lump and bump she could find.

She massages his back starting from the bottom and working her way up. She worked out years worth of notts in his back. After doing the hard part where he yelled and cried into the pillow in a very manly way he started to enjoy it.

“ alright, all done. you sir should have the loosest back of all of Phoenix drop” y/n says but all she gets in reply is a very comfortable-sounding moan.

“ if you think that feels good wait until you stand up” she whispers to her half-asleep husband and kisses him goodnight but Garroth being as clingy as he is sits up immediately and wraps his arms around her.

“ you can fall asleep without me Brains” he whispers in her ear in the most tired raw voice you can hear outta someone. Y/n hand grabbing Garroths and kissing it.

“ no I couldn’t dear,” she says back to him while pulling him to lay back with her, and when he does she turns to have her backside facing him allowing him to slip his hand under her bulging stomach to in his words “ hold both of his girls at once “.

[babybeel]

— rises the moon - liana flores ♪

lucifer knew he was overworked. the signs were all there - heavy bags under his eyes, painful crick in his neck, seemingly permanent irritated attitude. but he’d had years to get used the heavy workload, taking on his brothers’ responsibilities too, no doubt in his voice as he put them before himself. his shoulders were broad enough, strong enough to carry the weight of the world, he didn’t care whether they were in the celestial realm or the devildom.

but lucifer didn’t like seeing it happen to you.

the exchange programme had been hardest on you, stuffed to the brim with new information and expected to navigate the sudden change in surroundings. you dutifully completed your studies, bridged the three realms and took care of the seven demons who you’d come to adore. lucifer blinked away the heat that threateningly pricked at his eyes at the thought. you meant more to him than he knew how to show, how to put into words either. he could only hope his sincerity around you was enough.

a call of your name surprised you after dinner, ready to turn on your heel and trod back to your room, fill out out some paperwork diavolo had asked of you and practice the spells solomon had so kindly taught.

instead, you meet lucifer’s gaze, eyelids heavy though stare gentle.

“come here,” lucifer’s tone is as stern as ever, but this time his demand seems more of an instruction. you nod, shadowing him to his room, a place familiar to very few. 

you flounder in his doorway for longer than you mean to, mind dazed and gaze unfocused. your name once again snaps you out of your haze, heat creeping up your cheeks. “sorry, i- um,” you stumble, not quite sure which words you’re trying to get out.

“come here,” lucifer repeats, a little softer this time now that his only audience was you. he pats the end of his bed gently and you can’t find it in yourself to decline, moving before you can think.

you’re embarrassed that the soft touch of the sheets and the warmth of the demon beside you sends you unravelling, bringing about a sudden swell of emotion. you suppose it’s a result of how fatigued you are, feelings on the brink of spilling and barriers all but worn down; lucifer knows better.

the demon’s big hand finds it way to the back of your head, ever so gently pushing you closer into his side. the steadiness of his hold is comforting, stabilising, and you feel for the first time in a while that you can truly breathe. in, and out.

“don’t think i don’t know how much work you get, and how hard you try,” lucifer whispers as the rise and fall of your chest evens out and you finally let your eyes flutter shut, if only to hide their newfound wetness. “get some rest now,” he hums, “i’ve got you.”  

[yvqip]

in honor of ch 261

The passing of the torch. The inability to grieve. A duty to kill protect. Is this what it means to be a sorcerer?

CW: angst, mentions of gore and death, just about what you’d expect, wip(?) bc i couldn’t bring myself to write anymore,

A collection of Yuta’s thoughts during the possession (+a bit of Suguru’s as he watches in the afterlife.)

The moment you died, something in the air changed. It was as if all that tension keeping everybody upright suddenly released into this all consuming dread. Lying there on the ground, split in two, was more than enough proof you really were closer to mortal than the god jujutsu society claimed you to be.

I’m sorry it took losing your humanity to make people realize you had any.

I’m sorry I have to do this to you.

If I could do it any other way, I would. I’m sure you understand that though, better than anyone else. You died on his anniversary too. I was only able to take a peak at who you were under the guise of ‘the strongest’, I don’t understand you nearly enough as he did but I’ve seen enough to know the burdens you carry. I know you missed him, I saw it in your face a year ago and I saw it again before your fight with Sukuna. I’m sorry you two didn’t get the peace you deserved even after death. I’m sorry you had to lose the only one who saw you as Satoru.

Standing there, facing that monstrosity, instilled a carnal fear into my bones, one that I couldn’t show in front of the audience you taught and guided. The audience I have to lead in your place as the new ‘strongest’.

Is this how you felt? A sacrificial lamb pushed to the forefront of battle for the reason of powers you had no role in choosing?

I do my best to hide the tremble in my hands as Shoko slices me open. I’m doing this for the others, to give them a better fighting chance, to honor the sacrifice you made for us- stealing away the fire from the heavens and granting us the opportunity to grow even more- offering yourself on a silver platter in exchange of our youth. You were chained to humanity, reduced to a weapon intended for us.

Were you able to see yourself as anything else after he died?

Although the fire is dwindling despite your efforts to maintain it, I understand you now, giving yourself as tinder to spark the next generation. I’ll become it in your stead. After all, I’m the strongest now too, and I’ll take care of the 1st and 2nd years just like you said.

Shoko finishes the last of the stitching.

I wonder how she feels witnessing her two best friends turned into husks, bodies desecrated by both sides of jujutsu society.

I’m back on the battlefield.

5 minutes to make this count.

I’ll make sure you and your best friend rest together soon. It’s the least I could do for you.

~

The scene before me is sickening. I can feel the bile build in the back of my throat despite my lack of a physical body.

How could they do this to you?

I had spent this time waiting patiently for you to arrive, only to be taken from me the moment you do. I never held any hatred for those in Jujutsu High, this was what they needed to do, and yet it disgusted me all the same.

Are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest or are you the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo?

I recall saying those very words that shook the foundation of your identity. I said it because I knew it would hurt you. I said it because I knew I was the only one who had ever held your heart in the palm of my hands. I said it knowing my existence was the only proof you were anything other than ‘the strongest’. I said it not believing it was true. Yet, as I witness your body be used as a puppet, I question if anybody else ever felt the same.

Did you die with me, Satoru?

Does any body else see you as just that? Did you exist to the world of jujutsu outside of your power? You’re still far ahead in terms of that, but you chose well with your students, especially that boy, Yuta Okkotsu. He’s like you, more so now than ever since he’s taken your place. They’ll eventually catch up to you.

We’ve failed to protect the youth again.

Seeing your corpse on the table as Shoko performed the operation brought me back to the day I lost part of you. You stood there, Riko’s body in your arms, your eyes devoid of the usual light within it just like now.

‘Suguru.. should we kill these guys?’

Thinking back on it, perhaps I should’ve said yes. We would’ve been on the run together- but we’d be together all the same. You would’ve never had to be Jujutsu society’s scapegoat, you would’ve never had to fight Sukuna.

It wouldn’t have had to end this way

Maybe I shouldn’t have left. My lofty goals were of near impossible height, one that only you could reach. But I had to try, damn it. If it took rebelling against the gods to do it, I’d have gladly held the weight of the world as punishment if it earned you freedom from being chained to the mountain of Jujutsu, forced to protect non-sorcerer scum. Those damned creatures don’t deserve our sacrifices- the effort we put in just to keep them safe while they unknowingly go through life not even knowing about the hell we went through for their sake.

But in the end, you were still my undoing. The reason my body is being used by that thing, the same reason it fought back against him. It was always you, wasn't it? I don't blame you, though. If it were the other way around, I wouldn't have been able to burn you either.

[zmb1eslut]

Luke Castellan x hypnos!fem

tags: non-romantic relationship, fluff, Luke's pov.

summary: Luke Castellan was found by the way out his nightmares.

1,6k words

-

Luke remembered it quite clearly, the night in which the whole... something between them came to be what is now.

He was sweaty and drained, being the only wishful thought he felt brave to feed, for the air to reach his lungs so he could run a little further. He had lost all his will, and he was now running on the only thing stronger than his determination, his fear.

Both Titan and kid could feel it, that night he was fated to succumb to the torture. His mind had already given its last pleadful breath when his foot tripped and his face met the floor. And he now cannot phantom the thought of how different his life would be if he hadn't lifted his head, she hadn't been there.

Luke saw her sitting, with a blank expression on her face, looking down at him. His hand reached for her never expecting to actually be aid, she took it and pulled him towards her. Once they were close to each other she said to him in a bizarrely sweet voice "Your screams were getting too loud". That was the last time the girl acknowledged his presence, as well as the last time he felt that sort of fear.

Somi kept rescuing him like that every night. She never explained why. Luke never asked her either. He would only sit there in what he guessed were the girl's own dreams, and wake up in the morning with just a thin grasp of the events.

Most things about the dreams (and the dreamer herself), were awfully confusing for the swordman-boy. He felt like she looked at reality with an eager infatuation, like she knew that guy better than the arbitrary rules that defined him ever could. Being inside her mind perhaps was making a number on him. Perhaps that's why she at some point stopped posing as the spacey buzzed girl everyone meditated with at times, and held herself in a homely sort of normality he developed a liking for.

She showed a part of her no one else ever saw. Altough it would probably be more precise to say she eventually stopped hiding it. Being honest with himself, Luke admitted that he toyed with the idea of him having found her.

She acted exasperated, bored, mean. She behaved like any person he would never mistake for her on the other world would behave. Their exchange right now was especially out of character.

She had entered his dream, as every night. She stepped in front of him and pushed his shoulders down, when he fell, he was met with the softness of a bed. Tonight's dream was apparently on a room. "Sorry for the mess." She said to the boy's surprise. He wasn't opposed to a change on their routine.

"Kinda used to it and all." he said. She answered with an understanding nod. "Did anything happen?" the Hermes boy asked just to keep this anomaly alive, to which she sighed.

"Evan just left." Curiosity flourished on the boy's throat.

"Like the real one?" the girl took way too long to answer and started stroking his hair while she thought.

"No... the dream one. But I'm pissed at him. And that's a naptime dream" she answered as if it was obvious. Even more questions arose, so she explained "Those are the dreams you aren't supposed to watch." Huh...

"What dreams I'm not supposed to watch?"

"You know, Castellan." she really meant it, he didn't had a clue. She got close to him to whisper teasingly, even knowing no one would really be able to hear. "The inappropriate ones" Oh.

He understood fast though, making sense of what teenager needs usually were. "I was naive on that one, wasn't I?"

"I mean..." she said chuckling while walking away from him. She sat down on a chair in front of a desktop. The place was humorously colorful.

"Ok. But like... Evan? Does that happen often?" He asked almost gossiply.

"I mean! Not anymore! He's a total prick." that made him laugh.

"Is he?" Luke asked, enjoying seeing her so annoyed, especially as he wasn't the cause.

"Yes. And you know what? I hate that, I hate this. Cause he goes around just getting the fuck he wants, and then pretends he 'didn't mean it like that'. Then I get mad, and he thinks I'm pretty when I'm mad, and I get pissed off when he says that, and then I'm horny when I'm pissed. And you know what? He doesn't deserve horny me." Sometimes she just was that unexpectedly honest. Luke just listened amused. She looked up and let out a frustrated groan. "And now I have to take care of you." That made him laugh, but he didn't want her to know that.

"C'mon I'm not that difficult" he pretended to be offended.

"No. But right now you're truly inconvenient" He put his hands up in the air as his sign of surrender before laying down in the bed. She stayed silent for a minute and Luke almost thought they went back to normal. The girl usually was quiet and still, looking lost into the air, or, only the contrary, highly invested in a task and barely paying him attention. Now she was neither, the chair was slowly spinning with her wearing a childish expression. She controlled every aspect of every scenario he had observed, and even when she didn't feel like going strong at it, she would prove her domain by popping something for him to distract himself. He took note of that when he saw a ray of sunlight entering the window, leaving a path she was now following in his direction. She was standing in front of the side of the bed again. "Sit." she said, way too used to having control over here. And, listen, he wasn't about to oppose an emotional all powerful being. Once he stood straight, she st looking taller than him, barely. She supported her arms on the top of his head. And sighed again. "I hate men".

"Oh, they are terrible" he teased.

She stayed silent for a bit, he was just being used as a table. Then he heard her. "What do you think about... weird". He understood perfectly.

"I've met so many demi kids, that word just simply lost meaning at some point"

"Ok, then..." she took a step back and looked at him now, lowering her head a bit. "do you consider me pretty?" He took a second to look at her, then shrugged and nodded. "Great then... tell me when to stop." She said while sitting on his lap, with both her legs at his left side, and reaching for his left hand. The girl held it against her face and started nuzzling against him. He couldn't ignore the thought that her actions weren't sexy at all, not as much as they were needy. She was like a cat looking for attention, and he truly didn't mind. He lifted his right hand to caress her hair, and she gave in to the touch. She had closed her eyes and moved the hand of her face down to her outer thigh.

His strong hand gripped her skin, almost performatively. He flirted using a lower voice. "What do you want?" his nose under her jaw, his breath against her neck.

The answer came only with her voice, as she didn't even bother to open her eyes or explore his touch. "I'll let you know when you're doing it wrong." Moody, bossy, and assertive. This was not more than a game for them. This was just a caprice. What is wrong with wanting things that feel right?

The girl held onto his left bicep and hid her face on his neck. They just stayed like that for a couple minutes. Somi hiding on his arms when Luke faintly felt the scent of her hair.

"Why did you rescue me?" wasn't enough to disrupt the comfortability of their scene.

"I already told you why."

"I wasn't screaming tonight."

Then the silence prolonged itself for longer than he would have chosen. The girl just gently pushed his body with hers, making them lay on the bed, side by side, looking into the ceiling.

"We... don't really know each other." He agreed with the sentiment on silence. "But, we both have been here for years so I know you know me." Of course he did. "And everybody knows you." He felt like he didn't quite know what she meant by it. "Luke 'the greatest swordsman in the last 300 years' Castellan, a born leader whose smile has infatuated half our population of half-bloods, who is always there to help when someone gets hurt."

Luke analyzed those words for a couple of seconds. Apparently not enough seconds. "Do you... like me?" She laughed.

"I don't mean it like that!" She then took a pause and moved her head to look at him, he followed. "What I'm trying to say is. There are so many children looking up to you, learning from your effort, going to sleep smiling because they know you'll be there to protect them, and when they fail... you don't make them feel like they failed you. I guess for a second I realized how much our spirit was relying on you. I thought maybe you needed someone to rely on too. I'm sorry if I'm making it awkward now." He didn't know how to answer, her eyes on his were feeling heavy for a second so he escaped by closing them. He didn't know how to answer so he just breathed and hugged her, hoping she wouldn't tease him about his heart rate. She didn't. She hugged him back.

[zyxwvutbackwards]

I wanna write down some initial thoughts about it, so Day 3 Mushroom Oasis spoilers under the cut!

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA OH MY GODDDDDD/POS

It was so good!!! And Mycheal got so much scarier 😭 Maybe it’s just because I was watching horror last night, but I felt like he was actually gonna hurt us at one point!!! His attitude change totally makes sense given that he thinks he’s having the one thing he wants in the world, companionship, taken away, but GOD it got to me!! If I was Mc I’d have thought he was starting to hate us given how much we asked of him - and for what in exchange? Fortunately I have the power of Access to Meta Knowledge, so I know what that is, but I really feel for Mc lmaoo!

Genuinely, though, I didn’t expect him to get so irritable 👀 for some reason I’d expected him to just get sad, but tbh it makes sense! He’s been trying so hard to get Mc to stay, so, SO hard just to prove to himself that they were different, and to show them that they should stay - plus constantly having to work to maintain that image and it failing regardless! I can’t imagine he’d internalize it healthily either - “they’re leaving because I did something wrong/because I’m not good enough/because I’m a monster.” That image is only set aside when Mc makes plans to visit! Even then, though, it can’t be fully shattered - unless something miraculous happens or they reject him, I can’t imagine he’s going to stop feeling that pressure anytime soon.

Also, I was genuinely shocked I got the good ending on the first try! Usually when playing through VNs, I do what I think I’d actually do irl and see how it plays out - which means that, in this case, I made the Mc stay suspicious. Which usually means that I get a bad (or good depending on how you look at it) ending - I can’t believe Mycheal puts up with so much distrust from someone he barely knows 😭 The kitchen scene was so awkward!!! And so was the forest scene!!! The walking in silence turning into arguing was 😭😭 my heart hurt - yet for some reason he was relatively chill about it later on?? I guess it showcases his desperation for connection, poor guy :( It does make me wonder what sort of behavior or person would push him past his limit, though. So far the only real line he’s drawn is that we have to not insult him and/or be terrified of him? His self-esteem is really low and he’s really lonely, so I think it’d have to be something he perceives as really bad for him to decide that A. He’s too good for this person and/or B. Being alone is better than keeping them around. Or, perhaps, C. The person actually doesn’t like him because their action was so atrocious that they couldn’t have possibly done it if they even tolerated him. Maybe this action has to do with his privacy - like, if Mc went through his box while he slept? Even then I have my doubts. All this said, I think it would be much easier for him to decide that he didn’t want someone around if they were never kind in the first place - so my speculating is all about once he’d already grown attached. Given he likes the Mc because of their kindness, maybe blatant cruelty would be enough? Especially towards people he’d already grown attached to. Probably, actually! I could totally see him kicking someone out who was cruel to his chickens - who wouldn’t kick someone like that to the curb? They’re his chickens! Who couldn’t love them? I digress.

The bad ending hurt ngl 😭 I hated calling him those names and I hated making him react that way. It was really hard to do, especially when we didn’t have a chance to take it back. And even after all of that he gave us gifts? His love language?? He still cares about Mc???😭 Rubbing salt in the wound there!! I wonder if he understands that Mc rejected him because of his actions not because of who or what he is. I wonder if he thinks there’s a difference at that point! He clearly feels guilty

Also!!! Several mysteries!!! A. The box?? First of all, he decorated it with mushroom stickers, that’s adorable, but second of all!! Very very curious about what was in it!! And B. The not mushrooms?? What are they??? Very curious about them and their origins.

Finally, other stuff!!! When it wasn’t awkward because he was upset about/with Mc, it was adorable 😭 we got to hear him talk in his language in two of the routes, and that was amazing!!! I want to hear what he sounds like irl so bad! It just reads like it would sound really unique and beautiful. Ough I love him so much!

Also - Vida reminds me so much of Alma, I genuinely thought it was them for a minute lowkey still wouldn’t be surprised if it was, but I’m gonna feel really embarrassed if I come out all confident that they’re the same person and find out I’m wrong so I’m keeping this in the margins 😭 They kinda look like them, and they even said “lift your spirits” at one point! Also their dog was adorable 🥹

Speaking of - THE ANIMATION??? LORD I didn’t expect it!!! When Mycheal grabbed Mc’s hand I was so taken aback!! It was so smooth!!! And so good!!! And the dog wagging its tail was so cute!!! The art was amazing as always, very comfy cozy, and the new backgrounds were gorgeous!! Plus the new sprites!! He’s so cute when he isn’t scary! And still so caring when he is!! Well, he’s caring when he isn’t trying to manipulate Mc into staying, that is. This wouldn’t be a yandere blog if I didn’t love that side of him as well though :D He’s so awesome

Anyways, I’m sorry if you read all this brain vomit, it doesn’t have any sort of nuanced thought or overall conclusion other than that I’m obsessed with MO, I just needed to ramble about the game for a bit 😭 Mycheal is such a well written character and I am so so so excited to learn more about him. I loved this update and I’m so grateful for the creator for their work. Thanks for reading if you took the time to and have a lovely day!! 💞

[jadeittic]

LOVE.

“Sometimes, someone comes into your life, so unexpectedly, takes your heart by surprise and changes your life forever.”

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto + Sunshine!Fem!Reader

note: this is my first work since going on a break that was too long so this work might be rough on the edges. this is my first for carmy too so ik i can do better so plssssss send in requests if you have some :)

js a small blurb:) i love love

In the pulsating world of culinary passion, where flames dance and flavors collide, two hearts discovered a captivating harmony. Meet Carmy Berzatto, short for Carmen, an intense and driven chef, whose every fiber was consumed by the pursuit of culinary excellence. And there was YN LN a vibrant and radiant spirit, whose infectious joy lit up even the darkest corners of Carmy’s world.

With their first meeting at the supermarket, both of their shopping carts colliding as they awkwardly fumble their way through the crowded aisles. Embarrassed yet amused, they both shared a nervous laugh, their initial discomfort slowly giving their way to a shared sense of camaraderie.

Over time, “chance” encounters in the supermarket slowly became intentional. Carmy and YN found themselves gravitating towards the same shelves, engrossed in conversations about the most peculiar products and exchanging recommendations for obscure recipes.

And as they continued to explore the aisles together, they discovered shared interests and passions beyond the supermarket’s walls. They found themselves engaging in activities that pushed them out of their comfort zones. With Carmy cooking dinner, as YN watches him from the counter with heart-shaped eyes. They fit perfectly.

Carmy’s culinary career demanded his unwavering dedication, his focus on perfection pushing him to the edge of his limits. Amidst the intensity of his craft, he often found himself drowning in a sea of stress and pressure. But then YN appeared, like a gentle breeze on a scorching day, bringing with her a tranquility that soothed Carmy’s restless soul.

With her contagious laughter and warm embrace, YN became the anchor in Carmy’s stormy sea. She knew exactly when to wrap him in her arms, easing his burden and reminding him to breathe. In her presence, Carmy found comfort from the relentless demands of his career, a safe place where he could be vulnerable and find respite.

YN, the epitome of sunshine, understood the delicate art of balance. She brought lightness and playfulness into Carmy’s life, helping him rediscover the joy in simple moments. Together, they embarked on adventures that took them far from the confines of the kitchen, reveling in the beauty of nature and the pleasures of the everyday.

With YN by his side, Carmy learned that life was not just about achieving perfection, but also about savoring the sweetness of love and laughter. Through her unwavering support and unwavering belief in his talent, she became his muse, igniting his creativity and reminding him of the wonders that lie beyond the culinary realm.

In the quiet moments shared between them, Carmy found his heart opening, revealing a vulnerability he never knew existed. YN’s presence, like a balm for his weary soul, inspired him to find a healthier balance between his passion and personal life, realizing that love and happiness were as important as culinary triumphs.

Their love story unfolded like a perfectly timed symphony, with Carmy’s intensity harmonizing with YN’s warmth and love for life. In each other's arms, they discovered a sanctuary where stress melted away, replaced by a profound sense of peace and contentment.

As their love deepened, Carmy learned to appreciate the power of YN’s sunshine, not just in his life but also in the lives of those around him. Together, they created a house of joy and tranquility, a respite from the whirlwind of culinary pursuits.

In the magical dance of their love, the pair found a balance that elevated both their spirits. They became each other's pillars of strength, supporting and uplifting one another as they navigated the challenges of life's delicious journey.

In the embrace of their love, Carmy discovered that his work doesn’t need to consume his entire being, while YN reveled in the fulfillment of nurturing and uplifting the one she cherished. Together, they proved that the union of an intense chef and a sunshine girl could create a harmony that transcended the culinary world, forging a love that was as tantalizing as the most exquisite dish.

[fictionalwh0ree]

cheek to cheek- austin butler

based off: cheek to cheek by frank sinatra

word count: 846

warnings: none

pairing: austin butler x fem!reader

just two hours ago, you were walking down an aisle with a bouquet in hand, your friends and family on one side and austin’s on the other, watching with tears in their eyes.

just two hours ago, austin was wiping tears from his eyes as you exchanged vows and promised to be with each other forever.

you knew that nothing really changed, but being mrs. austin butler seemed to fulfill you in a way you never expected. now, at your reception, you were taking in everything around you. from the beautifully decorated room to the tall, gorgeous cake waiting to be cut, your wedding day was going perfectly.

you were simply standing there, watching as guests danced with each other when you felt an arm wrap around your waist.

“hi wife,” austin said, his voice alone making your stomach flutter.

“hi husband,” you responded, looking up at him to meet his love-filled eyes.

god, you were so in love with him.

you planted a kiss on his lips, but he soon pulled away at the sound of one of your favourite songs beginning to play.

austin’s hand slipped from your waist down to your hand and he picked it up fondly.

“may i have this dance?” he asked.

you nodded in response before he placed a kiss on the back of your hand, pulling you onto the dance floor. the band began to play as you positioned yourself with your arms around austin’s neck.

heaven, i’m in heaven

and my heart beats so that i can hardly speak

the lyrics resonated through the room as your head rested on his shoulder, both of you swaying gently. you could feel him looking down at you and when you met his eyes, it felt as though you were about to go into cardiac arrest. through the years, austin has never failed to make you nervous.

and i seem to find the happiness i seek

when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

a smile spread on his face, and it spread onto yours, causing you both to be smiling at each other like idiots, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. you knew others were watching you dance, yet it felt like the entire world slipped away as you danced together.

yes, heaven, i'm in heaven

and the cares that hung around me through the week

seem to vanish like a gambler's lucky streak

when we're out together dancing cheek to cheek

austin finally closed the gap by kissing you on the lips. you pulled him even closer until you were fully pressed up against each other. the kiss brought you back to everything you’d been through, from your first kiss to his proposal on the beach. you remembered how much you’d doubted your worth when it had happened, wondering if you should marry him when someone better could come around at any minute. he always assured you there was no one else he wanted to be with other than you. you remembered how stressful the wedding planning had been and how leading up to the event, everything seemed to be going wrong. as austin pulled away, you were brought back. as you held him close, you felt all your tension ease away.

oh i love to climb a mountain

and reach the highest peak

but it doesn't thrill me half as much

as dancing cheek to cheek

your slow dance picked up its pace when austin pushed you away and spun you around. when you were back in his arms, he couldn't help but stare at you. your cheeks began to heat up as he smiled at you.

oh I love to go out fishing

in a river or a creek

but I don't enjoy it half as much

as dancing cheek to cheek

you buried your head in the nook of his neck as the song was reaching its end. as you swayed gently, you could feel the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest. his body provided warmth to yours against the air-conditioned room. his arms were wrapped around your waist and when he shifted their position slightly, you felt the cold metal of his wedding band graze your open back. the reminder caused you to start fidgeting with your own ring. you’d never been big on jewelry and often struggled to wear rings for long periods of time, yet with this one, you hoped you’d never have to take it off.

now mama dance with me

i want my arms about you

that charm about you

will carry me through

you placed small kisses along his neck before pulling away, a large smile adorning your face as you looked up at your husband.

“what is it?” he asked, smiling just as large as you were.

“i love you,” you said.

“i love you too,” he responded, leaning forward to connect your lips yet again.

you continued to sway, entangled with each other, and as you appreciated everything about him, you couldn’t help but think,

heaven, i’m in heaven.

[lux1fer]

oopsies i forgot to show you guys the finished product of this yeah a few weeks ago the rp actually finished completely. im really happy with how this animatic came out and id definitely be willing to finish it. itd definitely take me a year at the least though this rp means the world to me. im gonna be emotional for a second sorry folks but like i havent had this much fun in a roleplay since my old warrior cat rp days- even then they were never as good as this one was. none gave me this much whimsy a thank you to @interncontinental for hosting this amazing rp. you're awesome /gen anyways, timestamps below ! this is gonna be. another wall of text.Again. so cw for text wall if ur prone to seizures caused by text. ive tried spacing the text out to help but it's probably still pretty bad, so forewarning !

0:00 ink and error (alongside many others) are trapped in this safehouse(the multiverse outside it is collapsing) which. as the name depicts. keeps them safe the safehouse has a dome surrounding it that's miles thick with concrete, metal, all that 0:13 error REALLY does not like being trapped here, so he tried breaking through the walls with his blasters 0:26 ink attempts to convince him not to (as it is against the rules to break the walls) but error doesn't listen. they have a big fight and error ends up breaking the dome's outer layer- which is what essentially lights up the entire place, and gives the illusion they're on earth. 0:51 he, alongside ink, are sent to a dungeon as punishment. (they end up making a friend there) and they use the owner of the dome's aunt to bribe him into letting everyone out. 1:17 error and the owner end up having a private discussion, in which error realizes the owner- the guy he DESPISED, was exactly like him. they both killed multiverses. they both killed people for fun. 1:22 he ends up having a fight with his own morals, before deciding he'd change for the better. 1:29 error frees the owner's aunt in exchange for the freedom of the people locked in the dungeon with him. 1:42 while he's walking out of the dungeon, he apologizes to ink for everything he's done 1:45 error walks back to his room and cries. 1:48 ink ends up pushing a chocolate bar with a note on it through the crook at the bottom of error's door the note says he forgives him. error cries again because of it. 1:51 ink and error end up hugging

1:52 eventually, ink realizes that he's run out of his lil emotion vials due to the corruption of the multiverse, which is an issue ! 1:59 due to ink's rapidly decaying health, error decides to give up half of his soul to save the guy from going kaput! this causes even more issues 2:04 nightmare- who had come to the safehouse, decides to mess with error's mind. he convinces him to get back into his old habits, under the pretense that he's weak and pathetic otherwise. error believes this. (also nightmare was redesigned by a friend of mine- her name is al! she doesnt have tumblr i dont believe though so raghh i cant ping her) 2:17 in what can only be described as a mental breakdown, error attempts to take back the half of his soul he gave to ink 2:30 error hesitates- he doesn't truly want to hurt ink, though he's not too sure why. 2:36 (its not on screen cus i couldn't fit it) error decides to capture and attempt to kill pj and gradient (who are here too!) instead, but this backfires as ink was no longer captured. ink knocks him out with his brush. 2:42 the corruption, which had been kept safely outside of the safehouse, has crept in due to corrupted individuals entering the dome. this forces everyone to escape through a previously blocked up exit the owner had built. 2:44 huge timeskip- essentially, the place they had found to live in after fleeing caught on fire, forcing everyone to run away Again! 2:46 in the new new place they had escaped to, the corruption Also arrived! the location was a cloud castle that floated above an ocean. which was quickly corrupting. the castle collapses, and floods with corrupted water. this scene needs a LOT of context-- the bandaged character by the name of blaze (owned by @teyvawni by the way go check out his stuff) arrived to the safehouse a while ago, with his brother following suit. said brother was corrupted. fresh, paperjam, and gradient were nearby when they arrived, and upon seeing the corrupted individual, fresh decided to commit Murder! this obviously upsets blaze, and he ends up killing both fresh AND pj and gradient- pj and gradient's death being present here. ink is watching 2:47 hinto, who is one of, if not the only friend error made in this roleplay ends up getting brutally murdered. this scene depicts him dying in error's embrace (you will see these two a lot whenever i draw this rp. i love them so much) 2:49 after the cloud castle collapses, they escape to what is essentially just error's void except everything is fluffy everyone present was given a choice- the universe was resetting, as the corruption had completely taken over Everything. including universes seperate from utau. you either stay awake for the 3 trillion years it took to completely reset the entire universe, or you sleep. considering error's friend was now a ghost and he didnt want to waste this time sleeping without spending time with his best friend, he chooses to stay awake for the entire 3 trillion years. 2:51 after those 3 trillion years, error is reasonably Exhausted. everyone else is exploring this new place they arrived in, while he is simply sitting in the corner and observing. he can only really stand speaking with hinto as he watches everyone else bicker and do whatever. 2:52 after error Brutally murders the person who killed hinto (this is not included in the animatic), error, ink, and dream are speaking to eachother in a nearby bamboo forest. nightmare interrupts and attacks ink with dust tagging along. big fight occurs, error and ink are mortally wounded, and are probably hashtag Screwed! 2:56 in a last ditch effort to save the people he cares about, error decides to sacrifice the half of his soul still left to save ink from dying.

soo Yeah! thats it! if this gets like. 20 notes im gunna make a comic based off of this. this isnt to incentivize people to like or reblog (Though that would be pretty swag of you ,, flutters my eyelashes) i just want an excuse :3 ill probably do it either way. eventually

[shesjustanothergeek]

Ruined

|Jacques Le Gris x Fem!Reader|

Short Story

Summary: Once you come of age, you're sent to your brother-in-law's estate to find a husband. After months of deflecting and denying suitors, old and young, you encounter the dangerous squire Jacques le Gris.

Author's Note: Jacques le Gris is a rapist. No matter which point of view you look at, he is a rapist. I would also like to say that I personally hate him. He embodies everything I hate about men and victim blaming in the modern world. Still, at the same time, I am so incredibly enamored by him, primarily due to Adam Driver's acting. Initially, I didn't want to write this story, but it would not leave me alone. Without further ado, here is Ruined. I hope you enjoy it!

WARNINGS: Mentions of rape, period-accurate sexism, noncon elements, extremely toxic masculinity, orgy (non-participating), the reader is a virgin, slight blood play, violence, degradation (Jacques receiving), rough sex, Jacques is not nice until the end, sexual blackmail, unprotected sex, PIV.

(I wrote this story almost a year ago but realized I didn't publish it here for some reason. You'll definitely see how much my writing has changed for the better.)

The obnoxious noises of people chanting draw you out of your trance, sipping wine from a silver goblet periodically to drown everything out. These parties were never your favorite, but you came, observing the party-goers dancing drunkenly as if it was your duty to attend.

You roll your eyes as the crowd cheers, Count Pierre yelling above the rest, a woman on his lap, and bringing your gaze to where the sound is directed.

A young man with raven hair draped around his neck stalks towards a maiden, a smirk on his lips, untying his white tunic. His chest is broad, a sheen of sweat glittering on his skin in the candlelight. He would be so much more attractive if this were a different situation. You could even imagine yourself being the one to pleasure his cock. You roll your eyes, understanding the intentions of this whole charade.

"Jacques, my boy, get on with it," Pierre says, growing impatient with the lack of excitement.

He nods, making wide steps to the woman, circling a wooden table as she runs in the opposite direction he follows. You can't help the groan of distaste that releases, tilting the cup to your lips and turning away, not wanting to see the show.

How could anyone like this? It was blasphemous in the eyes of the Lord. Mary would be weeping for what her son's followers do for fun. You must mention this in your confession, receiving penance for witnessing hedonistic actions, drawing the sign of the cross, wiping the stray dribbles from your lips, and making room for your bed chamber.

Pierre sticks his leather boot out, nearly tripping you as you huff, putting your hands on your hips.

"Where are you going, sister," he questions. "The party has just begun."

Your lips curl into a snarl, your white teeth reflecting the flickers of light.

"It is quite late, my dear brother-in-law. I need to rest my weary body."

Pierre tucks his leg back, a wave of shock washing over you. He fakes a pout, his eyebrows scrunching with a wet lip out. You shake your head, disbelieving his ridiculous antics. Indeed, he wouldn't let you go that easily.

"Awe, my dear sister," he pats his free thigh, "won't you find your rest here on my lap?"

The room erupts with laughter, everyone watching the exchange unfold, wondering how this will end. Your stomach turns inside, revolted by your legal brother's detailed proposal in God's eyes. Hot words of hatred sear your tongue's end, begging you to be free, but you bite it. He was, after all, above you, gifting you a home while searching for a husband. You were indebted to him. Saying no was not an option. Your eyes meet Jacques, a look of surprise as if he never knew you were here in the first place— a typical man, keeping his head trained on one hole at a time.

Pushing all the bile and anger, you plaster a smile, accepting the offer and sitting across from the finely dressed lady. Pierre runs his calloused fingers along your spine, turning you into stone as you set your gaze on the floor.

Everyone's eyes had left except for one, the only pair you didn't want on you as you sat in defeat, cheeks fuming. Jacques was intense, his facial hair dusting around the hard line of his mouth, shining with the wetness of the wine. It almost seemed you were his prey now, not the maiden with the ornate burgundy dress. You had no intention of being hunted by him.

With the clap of Pierre's hands, the merriment commences again, Jacques halting for a split second before his pupils are set back to where they were before. The woman is shouting no, over and over again, excitement barely laced in it. Your heart went out to her, a feeling of protection for the circumstance. She had no choice in who fucked her; a status of nothingness gave men the right to do what they wanted. Your gender had just as much value as theirs. Breasts and warm heat should not matter. 

The position in a society fueled the eternal flame of fury in your soul, always wanting to rebel and speak your truth, but the consequences of disrespecting a man were deadly. You were just as helpless as the woman being thrown over Jacques's shoulder and flipped onto the bed, held down by other waiting women.

A hand grips your jaw, forcing your eyes to watch the poor woman be soiled.

"Watch," Pierre commands, saying your name. "Watch him fuck her, and maybe you will learn how to be a good wife for your husband."

You clench your teeth, growling in protest as you watch Jacques enter her from behind. The iniquity of the sounds is enough to stir your core, but the cries of her protest ring louder, maybe laced with a hint of pleasure as the meat from the large feast threatens to exit your throat.

"Here." Jacques's voice was smooth, rolling out his chest like a baritone into your ears, caressing them. "Take some evil inside you," he says, aligning his hips with hers.

Your body jolts, either from the erotic sounds of his words or the disgusting act he was committing on her, as you put a hand over your mouth, jumping from your spot before Pierre can stop you. Incoherent noises were mumbling out of you as you ran to the doors, bursting them open with weight. The onlookers are quiet once more, waiting for a cue from the Lord. Jacques is the only one not paying attention, his vision trained on your retreating form as the girls giggle.

You order your handmaids to draw a bath, telling them to put as many herbs and oils to soothe your racing heart. They listened, bowing their heads in respect as they went off to do their respective duties, and you were in the scented waters in no time.

Take some evil inside you.

The words echoed in your brain, fuzzing all concise thoughts and morals. These parties were always like this, orgies were the most common, but they all seemed consensual. You never heard a woman shout no until tonight. Pierre ordered him to almost rape, teetering on dubiousness and assault.

Why would someone participate in that so willingly?

Jacques could say no and leave, not chase her around like an animal until he jumped on her. He was so attractive and sensual in his movements that even Christ would be shy.

You reached over the top of the tub, picking up the leather-bound book on the stand next to you, attempting to distract your mind from the man that was viciously pounding into as many women as he could in the other wing. A book of poems written in Latin was always your choice.

You had been lost in the pages for hours; the water had turned lukewarm and your skin pruney, but you were too focused as you felt the door slam. You jumped, nearly dropping it into the tub. You were surprised to find visitors, especially this late in the night. You lift your gaze with a quizzical raised brow. The person standing in your bathing room was Jacques Le Gris. You squeal, dipping into the water and covering your chest.

"What the Hell are you doing in here?" You nearly scream, forgetting your place.

He takes a few steps closer as you turn away more, his boots thudding, sending vibrations through the floor as he bends over, picking up your book. He reads the name aloud, almost like a question, and turns the pages, looking for a certain one. Jacques reads it aloud.

"Bibe mihi nisi oculis tuis et ego confirmo in oculis tuis." (Drink to me only with thine eyes, and I will pledge with mine.) He says, eyes flickering to your submerged body. "Vel osculum sed in poculo relinque, et vinum non quaeram." (Or leave a kiss but in thine cup, and I'll not look for wine)

Your muscles relax as you listen to his voice. It sounds the same, but the feeling of it is so much better than before.

"Sitis, quae ex anima oritur, divinum potionem petit." (The thirst from the soul doth rise, doth ask a drink divine.) You turn your body towards him, still covering your chest as you study his lips, how they pucker slightly, and his pink tongue touches his teeth.

Jacques begins to read the following line, but you interrupt him, having read this poem many times, as you peek over the side of the brass tub.

"Sed, ut potui, lovis nectare supponerem, Nolo tuum mutare." (But might I of Jove's nectar sup, I would not change for thine.) He lowers his head a few inches above yours. His intense honey-brown eyes bore into yours.

"Sera tibi roseo misi, non tam honorante, quam ut spem dare non posset arescere." (I sent thee, late, a rosy wreath, not so much honoring thee, as giving it a hope that there it could not withered be.) He reads the line, inching closer and closer.

You lick your lips, lifting yourself as you recite. "Tu autem ibi solus respirasti et mihi remisisti." (But thou thereon did'st only breathe, and sent'st it back to me.)

"Cum crescit et olet, non per se, sed te." (Since when it grows and smells, I swear, not of itself, but thee.)

Jacques closes the book with a slight slap, the tip of his prominent nose gliding across yours as your mouth parts for him. He closes his eyes, leaning in.

"Take some evil inside you."

You pull back, standing in the tub quickly as the water splashes out. Jacques's face turns pale at your rejection, embarrassment clouding his mind. You turn your back to him, grabbing a large towel.

"You know, Sir Le Gris, that poetry would sound heavenly if it wasn't for your filthy mouth." You flip your hair over your shoulder, bending slightly to wring the water out as you hear Jacques approach.

Fear stuns you for a moment, freezing, unsure of what to do or where to go because you know he will not take no for an answer if he reaches you. Suddenly, you spot a mounted dagger over the fireplace. You stroll as if you planned to walk over all along. He catches up in no time, pinning you to the stone, his form pressed into your back as he buries his nose in your neck, sniffing. You try not to cringe, even though everything in your body tells you to do so. You can't show him you're afraid.

"Would you like to rub my oils on Sir Le Gris?" You try to hide the tremble in your voice, staying frozen in place.

"Mmm," he moans, "I would love to." He moves away from you, finally giving you the chance to breathe.

"They are over there." You point to the shelf with glass bottles and vials as he nods. Turning his back on you, you reach for the dagger, silently prying it off the display. "You can pick whatever oil you want, Sir."

Jacques studies each one, popping off the corks and glass lids, smelling them until he finds something he enjoys, and walks back over. He opens the bottle, the smell of roses wafting in the air as he pours some out into his hands, massaging your neck.

If this was any other circumstance, you might adore basking in it, but it isn't. You're with a man who has no concept of consent, a man who would bend you onto the hearth and fuck your weeping body. He reaches down to your shoulders, halting when he feels your resistance on the cloth; not letting him remove it, he overpowers you, pushing it down. You clutch the dagger closer to your bare chest as his fingers glide down your biceps and back, slick with the oil.

"You are so stiff, my sweet."

You shudder at the endearment, trying to relax your tense muscles. Jacques's hand travels down your chest, encompassing the small flat area as his fingertips touch the top of your breast.

"Stop," you command with a flat voice. Jacques ignores you, continuing to massage your intimate parts.

You turn around, flying at lightning speed, and put the dagger's tip to his throat, only enough to draw a trickle of blood.

"When a woman says stop, you stop, Jacques. When a woman says no, you listen." The words fly out of your mouth, anger for seeing the filthy action he committed on that woman from the party.

His lack of terror frustrates you. Even with a knife to his throat, he radiates arrogance. You push him backward across the room, still at his throat, pinning him to the large wooden door. He stands there in surprise, his arms up in surrender, more startled than afraid.

"I could end your life in a second, you scoundrel, yet you show no fear."

Jacques laughs. He laughed dark and deep, his perfectly crooked teeth sparkling as his Adam's apple bobs. You slide the blade with your neck craned; the edge is now piercing. Your face scrunches with fury bringing your knee up to his stomach, causing him to laugh more, slightly doubled over.

"Do you have such a low view of women that you take it in jest when they threaten your life?" You spit. His joy subsides a bit, chest still slightly bouncing.

If you slid the blade across his neck at this moment, his throat would slit, spilling his tarnished blood on your naked body, yet he still doesn't seem to care. His eyes travel down you, still damp from the bath. You slam his shoulder into the door with your fist, trying to assert dominance over him, not allowing him to look. You suppose this is a precarious pose, leg hiked up, hand on his shoulder, giving him perfect access to your womanhood.

Your stance falters at the thought, Jacques taking it as the perfect opportunity to grab you. The blade slides across his arm, flinching for just enough time to run, but he grabs you at the waist, the soles of your feet sliding across the stone floor. You yelp as he flings you over his shoulder, your legs and arms kicking as you scream for him to stop. He doesn't listen, opening the door to your bed chamber and throwing you down on your mattress.

Your body displays perfectly for him, with a slight sheen on your flush body. He devours the sight of you, ripping off his sweat-stained tunic as you push yourself off the sheets and away from him, running towards the exit. Jacques cuts you off, hunched over in a stance that resembles the one at the party, his arms out. You step to the side, and he mirrors it. You step to the other, and the same thing happens again.

"If you run, I will only chase you," he says with a predator's grin.

You look around desperately for anything to help you escape him. You spot a candle stick, sprinting to it, knocking the lit wax onto the floor as it rolls to Jacques's feet; his boot steps on it, snuffing the flame.

"Oh, my darling, you must be careful. You wouldn't want to cause a fire. Our fun might end." His voice is condescending as he stalks you.

"I will set this whole castle on fire before I ever have fun with the likes of you, swine."

A glob of spit flies out of your mouth, landing on his cheek. The pads of his fingers touch it, wiping it on them and bringing them to his mouth, sucking. He hums, popping them from his lips with a smile.

"You taste so sweet." He closes the space between you. "I would shun Jove's cup away every chance if it meant I could taste your nectar instead."

You grip the brass candle stick tightly, offended that he would reference a poem so dear, ready to swing at any moment. Jacques notices, smiling to himself. Your legs rub together at his words, a mind of their own.

His lips crash on yours, destroying any thought that you might not want this, and you drop your weapon, wrapping your fingers in his raven locks. You can feel him grin, happy to have won, his hand lacing itself on your neck.

You part for air as Jacques spins you around, sliding his other hand down your body to your aching mound, parting the wet folds with his digits. You gasp at the contact, your knees buckling as his grip holds you up.

"For a lady who put up so much of a fight, you are impossibly weak under my touch," he mocks, relishing his victory.

You glare at the wall with the brutal honesty of his words. You didn't put up much of a fight when his mouth finally met yours, even dropping your only form of protection.

"Silence." You demand, not wanting to hear any more of his taunts.

An exploratory finger glides over a sensitive spot on your heat, causing you to gasp and grip Jacques's trousers. He swipes over it, and you cry out at the foreign sensation, panting. You can feel the pride radiate from his demeanor at seeing your weakness, slowly rubbing circles on the bud.

You have never felt like this before, being taught never to explore that private area of your body, leaving it only for your husband to use. This pleasure wasn't something that society taught you. Yes, you watched many people fornicate at Count Pierre d'Alençon's gatherings but never allowed yourself to participate. He would have loved it if you did, but you had one duty to attend: finding a husband.

It was already so tricky finding anyone you could stomach, all the suitors decrepit and at death's door. You wanted to marry for love when you were younger. The idea of a fairytale romance clouded your eyes as a child, but once you bled for the first time, you were sat down and told of your duties. Accept whatever man had the most money, influence, or power and fill your stomach with his kin. But you wanted something else. The suitors also knew it, as you destroyed any notion of a small and obedient wife.

At times you were sure Pierre would throw you out as you brushed off and disrespected every man that came, but some of you knew he liked the entertainment. If only he could see you now.

Naked and moaning like a whore as Jacques assaulted your heat with his fingers, you loved the sinfulness of it all, Jacques breathing heavily into your ear as he worked you like a loom, rubbing in circles as pressure began to build in your stomach. Your hips were moving, seeking more friction. You can't control your body, the lust of the devil taking over your mind, a he kept touching that exact spot.

It was so intense, the new feeling, almost too much, you wanted to scream obscenities and thrash around, but he held you firm. Your toes curled as you stomped on the ground, a wave of ecstasy crashing into you as you screamed. Your body caved in on itself as you struggled in Jacques's grip, still rubbing the used nub. You twitched and spasmed as the aftershocks of your high jolted through your body, mumbling to yourself.

"It's-it's too much. Please. Stop." You beg as tears form from the overstimulation.

Jacques shushes you with kisses along your face, calming his fingers slightly, and you breathe a sigh of relief, head dropping as his hand still chokes.

"Have you ever experienced this before, a man's touch?" He whispers seductively, nose burying in your hair.

You're too dazed to think of a witty retort, Jacques pulling your consciousness away.

"No. I have to save myself."

"For who?" Jacques asks, removing his paws from your naked skin.

"My husband." You answer plainly.

Some of you have always wanted to explore your features this way, but you are always too scared, never taking the risk. You felt they would know what you had done by the look on your face, throwing you to live with pigs for the rest of your life. He chuckles at your lack of restraint, happy to have brought your defenses to a standstill as he slowly sways you to the bed, closing your eyes. You think he might leave you there, tucking you in for the night. You wouldn't protest with your achy limbs.

"You're still intact?"

You shoot up, eyes wide, as you realize what will happen. What?" That is all you manage to say, scared to admit the truth. Maybe if you didn't, he would lose interest and leave.

He rests his knees on the bed, your legs between his as he repeats.

"You are still intact?"

"Sir le Gris, I beg you to leave my chambers." Your voice weavers, sobering up, trying to keep a modicum of strength.

You slide off the bed, Jacques grabbing and flipping you as you swipe the candle stick from the floor. He crawls over the top, dragging his hair along your back as you feel his hands dip the bed, stick biting into your chest.

"I will ruin you for every man," Jacques whispers, face centimeters away from your ear, his facial hair tickling your skin as he peppers kisses along your neck.

The logical part of your brain wanted to stop this, realizing that you would fail if your future husband wanted to see if you were still a virgin. They'll declare you a whore, a harlot, sabotaging every suiter who enters the door. With your personality, you knew that your virtue would appeal more than money to them, and Jacques Le Gris would take it away. But the way his lips delicately kissed your skin, his hair lightly stroking it, taking the words out of your mouth as he reached your hips.

He removed his body from yours, shucking his black trousers onto the floor. You grip the candle stick tighter. This was your chance to fight back, stopping him from taking your only decent quality in man's eyes, but you didn't. You just lay there, waiting patiently for him.

A part of you wanted this, to know what it felt like and to discard any chance of finding a betrothed. You couldn't be tied to domestics, organizing feasts, caring for little ones, and then laying down to a man you could never love. It would be pure Hell, and you could not accept that. You would rather die alone without your honor than live a day under a man's boot.

Jacques grips your hips again, pulling you towards the edge of the mattress, legs hanging off the end as he spits on his shaft, stroking it. You turn your head to take a peak. The length is impossible; you had never seen one this long or wide, glistening with his seed at the tip. He catches you staring, smirking at your shocked expression, glad to have finally put you in your place.

He positions himself at your entrance, rubbing his hands on your ass almost gently as he pushes into the hilt. You scream, silencing it into the blankets as he pulls out, only to slam back in again. Tears burst from your eyes at the blinding pain of being stretched, his blatant disregard for your comfort.

"Jacques, it-it hurts." You beg, body shaking, the salty streams of water cascading down your face and into your mouth. "Please, slow down."

Your trembling voice breaks him from his trance, realizing he can't treat you the way he does with other women, not if both of you were to enjoy it. He pulls out, turning your body, seeing your tear-stained face and the candle stick you had been hiding, throwing it off to the side. Jacques smirks, proud to have won your mercy. He didn't know how long he would worry about you trying to kill him. He was proud of the magic his cock could work, but he didn't think it was that powerful, willing someone as strong and aggressive as you into submission. He bent over your body, kissing you, sucking on your lips gently, as your fingers combed threw his hair.

"I'm sorry, my darling, I should have remembered you are not like the rest. So fragile and delicate." He smiles, getting a waft from the oil he put on you earlier. "Like a rose. Ma rose. Beautiful and elegant, but if you aren't wise, she will prick you with her thorns."

You're sure his terms of affection come from pure physical attraction, trying to calm you so he could get back to fucking you like a rabbit. But the feeling that crept into your bones and heart at his words wanted to tell you something different.

He slowly drags them across your velvet walls, relishing in the tiny moans and whines he pulled from your chest. This time, his hand went down to your womanhood, using your juices to coat his fingers before he slid in, stretching you but not as comprehensively as his cock. You gripped onto the arms that caged you, your fingernails digging into the toned muscles as he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, softly biting the flesh.

You felt your peak rising quickly as he stroked you with curled fingers, your heat clenching and twitching around him. Jacques didn't need you to say anything to know you were close. Your body told him everything he needed as he quickly exited before your climax, ignoring your protests. He brought the digits to his mouth, coated in blood and nectar as he sucked, eyes rolling back at the tangy taste.

You watched in awe as his tongue licked it, dipping into all the crevices. He leaned down, hesitating momentarily as he reached your lips before you parted them and then dove in, mixing the taste of you and him. You moaned through your nostrils, eyelids fluttering as your tongues danced together, wrapping your legs around his waist. You were tired of waiting now that he showed you what sex could feel like, frustrated by its denial. You pulled his hair, tugging his face away as you looked into his hazel-brown irises.

You had never been this close to Jacques to appreciate his beauty truly; the freckles and moles dotted his cheeks and around his nose. He almost looked like the Roman statues you had seen in books, with his face and body chiseled from stone.

"Please," you whispered on his damp skin, "I need you inside me."

Jacques had waited for those words his entire life, eyes rolling back at the wave of arousal he got from them. He positioned his cock at your abused mound again, sliding in slowly as he watched your expression.

It was painful again, tensing and scrunching as he held back the best he could, bottoming out. The feeling of him so impossibly deep made you gasp. You were sure he was in your guts. You slowly ground your hips against him, trying to seek the pleasure you now knew he could give you. He smiled at your eagerness, happy to have turned the stiff woman into a puddle in his hands.

He finally gave you what you wanted, pulling back and sliding back in. Your walls finally adjusted to his overall size, welcoming him in. Like earlier, he worked that sweet spot inside you, stoking the fire smoldered inside into a small flame. You wanted more now that you realized what was possible, snatching his body close to yours as you angle your hips up, inviting him to go the pace he wanted. And Jacques did, slamming into your body as he fucked you deeply, breasts bouncing from the force.

You moaned loudly, head rolling to the side as the pleasure took over, Jacques wrapping a large palm around your throat again to hold you in place.

"Oh Lord," you shouted, "please forgive me. Now that I know of this sinful ecstasy, I may never stop."

Jacques smiled, happy that he ruined and corrupted you like he said he would, a new wave of primal desire controlling him. He yanks you to the end of the bed again, slamming your body into him as he stands upright, grabbing your waist and fucking into you as hard as he can, gritting his teeth.

You pant, excited by the new position he thrusts into rapidly, the now familiar pressure quickly building in your stomach.

"I am going to ruin you for every man." Jacques reiterates from before. "So, when your husband is fucking you like an untrained dog, all you will think of is me."

His black mop of hair sticks to his sweaty forehead as he continues pumping into you, holding himself back until you climax for him. He hikes your leg over his shoulder, pistoning in you impossibly deeper, hitting the same spot repeatedly until you snap. Your vision goes white as you arch your back, screaming at the bursting pleasure in your stomach. Jacques grins, proud to have you writhing under him as he spills inside you, seed filling up your hole as you both continue panting.

Jacques pumps into you carefully, slowly riding your highs together as your pulse slows, breathing calmly. His hand slowly snakes its way to yours, hooking a cautious pinky. He pulls out, gently dropping your leg as he collapses beside you, spent from the activities together, staring up at the ceiling.

His digit is vast compared to yours, the size of your index, as he takes the invitation to wrap all of them under your plan, bringing the back of your hand to his lips. You stare at him, an eyebrow raised at the unexpected display of affection.

"Thank you for giving yourself to me, ma rose. For letting me have your virtue." You look down at the intertwined hands and then at his face, skeptical, seeing his sincere expression.

"You are welcome," you giggle. "Though I always imagined it would be my husband, now I don't think I need one for that anymore."

Jacques laughs, a naturally bellowing whole-body one, and shakes his head.

"With all due respect, my lady, I don't think you needed me to show you that." You mirror his emotions, silently agreeing with him as he gets up, searching for the lost garments during your adventures.

You attempt to stand, legs faltering as pain shoots through your core, using the bed for balance. Luckily, Jacques is in the bathing room collecting his tunic as you walk over to the candle and holder, putting them back.

Cold, wet fabric on your back causes you to jump, turning around to see Jacques fully clothed with a wash rag in hand. You wince at the freezing temperature of it, grabbing his wrist. You look at him perplexed as he leads you back to the bed, parting your legs as he drags them across your core, cleaning up the dried blood and fluids.

"I can do that, Sir." You protest, uncomfortable with the amount of concern he is showing you.

"I know you can." He chuckles to himself, shaking his head, and continues. You don't stop him, letting the man care for you this time.

Once he's done, you reach for the cloth to discard, but he yanks it out of the way, folding it and stuffing it in a pocket. You put your hands on your hips, shaking your head.

"And what are you going to do with that le Gris?" You ask in an admonishing tone.

"Oh, this?" He questions, feigning innocence. "This is just for me... and any other suiter who decides to court you."

Your face pales, your playful expression dropping as you go to grab for him, his body surprisingly fast for the bulk of it. You try again, and he expertly dodges towards the door.

"Give it back, Jacques," you demand, done with his games.

He smiles and shakes his head, patting where the tainted fabric is stored. You reach for it once more as he opens your bed chamber door and slips out, shutting it on your naked body. He knows you can't leave, or everyone will see you; although some might be pleased, you still stay inside, pounding on the door as you yell his name.

***

You sit silently at the table with Count Pierre d'Alençon and his wife, your sister, eating the day's first meal. You needed that after last night, still fuming after what Jacques did.

That damn scoundrel.

Pierre puts his knife down with a "clang," causing your sister and you to perk up, expecting an explanation for the sound as he wipes his lips.

"Jacques le Gris came to my chamber last night," he begins. A lump forms in your throat as you freeze, terrified about what his following words would be."I found it very odd, him being here that late after the party, but nevertheless, he said it was necessary."

Indeed Jacques didn't blast Pierre about what you did last night; he already had proof enough that he didn't need to say anything.

"You came up in the conversation, my dear sister," he says as he points a jeweled finger.

You swallow, plotting all the terrible things you will do to Jacques the next time you see him.

"He proposed a marriage to you."

You drop all your silverware on the floor, face in shock at the reveal. Jacques has already ruined all chances of future courtiers, even going a step further and ruining your prospects of freedom. Why the Hell would he do that?

"I, of course, said that he would have to follow the process like any other man. He would get no special treatment just because he is my friend."

He steals your virtue and now your only chance of freedom.

"What do you say, my dear sister?" He asks, ripping your mind for your thoughts.

You stare blankly, unsure how to respond to something as ridiculous as that and clear your throat.

"Jacques le Gris is like all of the men from before and will be like all of the men after," you reply.

Pierre smiles at your answer, happy to know the two most headstrong, fiery people he knows will go toe to toe. This will be a duel for the ages.

[fantasyinvader]

I think the translation was hiding the truth about Edelgard. You guys know me, how I've been trying to piece together what her character was supposed to be before the localization happened, where we have her coming off as harsher initially, downplaying her lying to and manipulating others as well as it could, before finally making her seem better in her ending. I mean, it does lead into a very questionable ends justify the means due to the translation trying to downplay Edelgard's oppression of the people and instead make her about freedom.

Looking at those changes, anything Edelgard says she's fighting for can be eliminated as in the Japanese script she outright confirms she was attempting to sway Byleth. Like when she says that this war is about restoring the Empire, yet she's defending Nemesis, making Wilhelm out to have betrayed humanity, and denounces the faith that helped found the Empire in the first place, Edelgard isn't restoring the Empire into what it once was. If anything, she's everything her ancestors fought against, which could explain her saying she didn't want to betray Rhea in the JPN as she knows Rhea is supposedly her ancestor. She says she'll fight for freedom yet subjugates and oppresses the masses, she's against corruption so she'll just eliminate every noble who refused to bow down to her while maintaining the positions of those who do, she's against the Goddess yet will make her own messages out to be the teachings of the Goddess, against the false history yet spreads lies and misinformation for her own benefit, for meritocracy yet steals credit for Byleth's leadership and assigns Caspar to controlling the military when he can't even keep the army under control as the Empire invades other nations, world for humanity yet turns herself into a monster, champion of the weak and silent yet only rewards the strong while silencing her critics... Edelgard says one thing, does another just like when she offers Rhea a chance to surrender publicly yet in private says she needs to be destroyed. And this came right after Arianrhod, where she lied and scapegoated the Church to her her entire army.

Taking that into consideration, it becomes clear that Edelgard isn't fighting for what she says she is. So what is this all about really? The answer is simple really, something that the translators changed. She wants POWER, uncontested power so that she can reshape Fodlan as she pleases. And this clicks well on so many thematic levels.

There's the whole Nirvana thing. While the BE route is meant to be Byleth's route, where the Flame of Attachment can cause them to go off script and lose access to Nirvana in the process. However, Attachment can also be seen as greed, and with Edelgard's true goal simply being to conquer Fodlan and install herself as a supreme, uncontested ruler, this can say it is ultimately her fatal flaw that prevents her from reaching her own form of enlightenment. Her ideals are simply a by-product of that greed, which in turn leads to her abandoning them when convenient despite her saying she started a war for them.

It would also contradict Byleth being reluctant to rule Fodlan but doing so out of necessity, Claude leaving Fodlan in Byleth or Dimitri's care, and how the people rally around Dimitri. Meanwhile, in addition to manipulating others into supporting her Edelgard also conscripts civilians to do so and when they resist they are executed. Rather than people supporting her and pushing her to the top like the others, she imposes her will upon them then blames the people for her actions against them.

Her turning herself into the Hegemon Husk, throwing away her humanity in exchange for power. This is after her parley with Dimitri, where she explained her ideals and was happy when Dimitri called her “strong.” Dimitri, like Byleth and Claude, his strength comes from people rallying around him. The people give Dimitri his strength, the same people Edelgard is willing to sacrifice to empower herself.

The whole “animal path” theme of her route does have a survival of the fittest aspect, where the strong prey upon the weak while the weak hate the strong. Her going after Rhea for being a Nabatean, a long-lived and powerful being, as well as saying she could never trust her hints to Edelgard acting on some level of fear to those she viewed as stronger than her. This would tie into the Hegemon Husk transformation, showing Edelgard's desperation in the face of a superior foe.

In Verdant Wind, Edelgard is said to be running amok much like Dimitri by Ferdinand. However, I think this ties into how she's been consumed by her desire for power. In the JPN version of Caspar's endings, it's stated that the Imperial army is conducting expeditions into other countries (where they are “often out of control”). This would point to Edelgard not being satisfied with just having power over Fodlan and sets her sights on the world afterwards. This would stand in contrast to Claude's character growth, how he wants to bring the world together but ends up rejecting forcing it upon the people and his own goal for this extends to the world. It would also link to Edelgard telling Claude during her final battle with him that she doesn't believe their ideals are the same. What's more, this also puts her closer to being like the Agarthans and how they pissed off Sothis with their warfare (Hell, Hubert even calls his forces Those Who Rule The Shadows, the cycle is continuing).

Then there's Rhea losing control of her power at the end of Silver Snow, becoming a threat that can't be talked down to by Byleth and must be defeated. Rhea becomes like an animal at that point, but is able to be saved thanks to Byleth's support allowing her to meet Sothis once again. Comparatively, we have Edelgard consumed by not just her power but her desire for it, can't be talked down, the whole animal path thing, and she doesn't get any salvation for this. Whereas Rhea lost herself due to protecting others, Edelgard lost herself and began sacrificing others.

According to the devs, Edelgard's depth came from her having two distinct sides to her. A surface level version of her we're introduced to, the noble girl, and the twist reveal that she's the game's red emperor. That once you looked path the former, you'd see that she was really the villain all along. The fact that Treehouse needed to essentially rewriter her character, to attempt to make her ends justify her means, it does show that the Western Edelgard and the Japanese version are essentially written as two different characters. It's the Marx/Xander dichotomy all over again.

I mean, I can understand why they'd probably want to change this. There was the whole MeToo movement going on, and having a story where the female lord is the villain lying to the players could attract controversy. That's exactly what happened with Rising of the Shield Hero at the time, people saying that it was an incel fantasy because the MC is falsely accused of rape at the start of the story and how wrong it is to release such a story at that time (meanwhile, there as no such controversy in Japan).

But at the same time, was it appropriate to try and justify human experiments, imperialism, lies, secret police, government censorship, genocide, oppression, and more? If anything, the translation has aged the game in a different manner that the memes of Awakening and Fates.

The truth about Edelgard is simply she's power hungry and is willing to do anything to feed that hunger.

[boysborntodie]

@positively-peachy-143 Actually been dying to answer this question tysm<33 Also I apologise for the ramblings, it will probably happen again

5) The pre-rumble scene

Underrated scene, we need to talk about it more. This is the first proper glimpse we get of the gang and their dynamics since Pony was jumped, outside of Pony’s recounting, and it’s just a very fun scene that’s constantly contrasted by the seriousness of the impending rumble.

The juxtaposition between Pony’s desire and desperation to fight, to prove himself as a greaser and man, to prove a point against the Socs, to help out the gang, and the nagging feeling of ‘wrongness’ as realisation dawns on him that fighting and violence is pointless (later hammered in by Johnny before his death). The positioning of this scene as right after Pony has already talked to two Socs and no longer despises them or sees like as an ‘other’ is also important.

We get more depth into the individual characters (including quite a bit of Steve which was nice considering that he plays a small role overall) as Pony asks them why the fight and concluding the only good reason to fight is in self-defence.

4) The Final Curtis brother argument and aftermath

I really like how we see that even though Darry and Pony did resolve their first fight, expressed their care and have grown to be more understanding towards each other, this doesn’t immediately mean that they are fine forever. They’re still two fundamentally different people with enough similarities that lead to them clashing.

Sodapop has constantly been a mediator and seen as someone without problems or worries. This is the first time we see him as an actual person who always had problems and worries but pushed them away because he couldn’t support Darry and Pony if he was too wrapped up in himself. We see how everything has taken a toll on him and leads to him breaking down and opening up.

And this is the catalyst that finally causes Pony and Darry to understand each other and, whilst they always will have their point of differences, they promise to try to be better for each other and Soda

3) Johnny’s Death

The character death of all-time, I have cried over it and will cry over it again.

The way this takes place after the rumble, which Dally had dubbed in Johnny’s honour. There’s this frantic energy and tension throughout it all, especially with Dally who joins in last minute and immediately grabs Pony to rush to the hospital. Dally gradually becomes more erratic as he rambles to Pony about how he should’ve let Johnny become tough, implying his belief that it’s his fault, and advising Pony to become a ‘Dally’, so tough no one could ever hurt him.

And yet when they get to Johnny’s room, Dally’s devastatingly soft and cautious, telling Johnny that they won the rumble, the rumble Dally wanted to fight for Johnny. And yet Johnny rejects fighting and violence. Dally telling Johnny he’s proud of him, which was all that Johnny wanted. Having already accepted his death as a just exchange for the lives of those children and knowing Dally is proud of him, Johnny’s final act is to ask Pony to ‘stay gold’. It’s a plead from a dying boy to his friend to not let the world change what’s good about him, his softness and ability to love a world despite of its cruelty, and it hits every single time.

Dally’s final exchange with Johnny, as he goes through all these conflicting emotions, begging Johnny to not be dead, tethering the edge of break down. But boys like Dally don’t cry or feel vulnerability. They’ve forgotten how to. So instead of breaking down, he blows up. He’s always been akin to a ticking time bomb, self-destructive and destroying everyone around him. And now his time is up. (This allows paves the way to the line ‘Johnny was the one thing Dally loved. And now Johnny was gone’ and I need to mention it at least once a post)

2) Ponyboy, the Socs and the glass bottle

This is arguably the most important scene in the entire book. The Outsiders is about growing up in a society that dictates who you should be according to its standards. It’s about how the system breeds resentment between different people all the while oppressing and subjugating them all.

Ponyboy’s someone who knows and wants to live up to society’s expectations but always falls short. But the events of the book have shaped Pony into someone who could become ‘tough’ as he has always wanted and been expected to. From someone who could never use the a glass bottle, he ends up threatening the Socs himself, to the shock and dismay of Two-Bit.

And yet, Pony remains true to his statement; ‘the only good reason to fight is for self-defense’. When the Socs stop bothering him, he disposes of the glass bottle and its shards, so that nobody can get hurt from it. He’s no longer that helpless kid who couldn’t hurt anyone but instead someone who chooses not (mirroring Johnny’s advice rather than Dally’s)

1) Johnny’s letter

I don’t have too much to say despite this being my favourite scene. It gives us and Pony some closure to Johnny’s death but more importantly this is the catalyst to Ponyboy deciding to write the Outsiders.

Johnny dies knowing the world can be good and beautiful despite its cruelty and pain, and sees this in Ponyboy. He asks Ponyboy once more to remain ‘gold’ and to prove to Dally this sentiment. Pony laments that it was too late for Dally, that even if he hadn’t died, he still wouldn’t have listened.

And then it hits him that there must be so many Bobs and Johnnys and Dallys in the world, and how big a problem it was and that someone had to something about. It’s just such a great scene GOD-

[shiorihyuga]

A Soft Place

In a post-Rumbling world, where the threat of Titans no longer looms, Vanessa Sinclair finds herself living a quiet life, working at her family’s bakery in Wall Rose. Curvy and self-conscious, Vanessa has always faded into the background, overshadowed by her more outgoing friends. But everything changes when Captain Levi Ackerman, Humanity's Strongest Soldier, begins visiting the bakery regularly. What starts as a simple exchange of tea and pastries quickly evolves into something more. Levi, drawn to her quiet strength and beauty, takes Vanessa on a journey that forces her to confront her insecurities, while learning that sometimes, what lies beneath the surface is more than enough. {Levi x Plus Sized OC}

Chapter Nine

As Levi made his way through the quiet streets, the soft hum of the night wrapping around him, his thoughts were unusually occupied. Normally, his mind would be running through tactical plans or the next steps in whatever mission the Scouts had to undertake. But tonight, all he could think about was Vanessa.

That kiss.

It was just a brief brush on the cheek, but it had left an impression far deeper than Levi would have expected. He wasn't the type to dwell on emotions, much less something as innocent as a kiss. Yet, as he walked, the warmth of her lips still seemed to linger on his skin.

Levi had faced the impossible, led soldiers into battle, and made decisions that weighed heavy on his conscience. He had been in the middle of life-or-death situations countless times, and yet, this simple moment—Vanessa’s kiss on his cheek—had shaken him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

As he walked through the dimly lit streets, the memory of her soft, hesitant kiss replayed in his mind. It had been quick, fleeting, but the vulnerability in it was what stuck with him. Vanessa wasn’t someone who acted impulsively, not from what he’d gathered about her, and for her to find the courage to do something like that meant more than the gesture itself.

Levi’s hand instinctively brushed the spot where her lips had touched his skin. He wasn’t used to affection—at least, not in this way. His harsh life had stripped so much from him, making moments like this seem foreign. He had kept people at a distance for so long, believing it was better that way, safer for everyone involved. Attachments, especially romantic ones, weren’t something he had ever considered.

Yet here he was, thinking about Vanessa.

She was different. He had noticed it from the beginning—the way she was both strong and unsure of herself, the way she carried her insecurities but still managed to smile through them. She wasn’t loud or attention-seeking like others he had known. Instead, she had this quiet strength, a warmth that drew him in even when he hadn’t been looking for it.

He hadn’t meant to get close to her. At first, visiting the bakery had been just another routine in his new, peaceful life after the war. But with each visit, Vanessa had become someone he sought out, even if he hadn’t fully admitted it to himself until now.

Levi stopped in his tracks, glancing up at the stars scattered across the night sky. His expression remained calm, but inside, he felt something unfamiliar—something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel in years.

Could this be something more? The thought crossed his mind, but Levi quickly pushed it away. He wasn’t one to indulge in fantasies or get swept up in emotions. His life had never allowed for it, and even now, in this moment of peace, there was a part of him that remained cautious.

But still... Vanessa.

Her kiss, though innocent, had stirred something in him. He could see the uncertainty in her eyes, the nervous way she had pulled back afterward, as if she expected him to reject her. But he hadn’t. He couldn’t. The truth was, he liked being around her. He liked the way she made him feel—calm, grounded, in a world that had once been filled with chaos.

As he continued his walk back to HQ, Levi’s thoughts remained fixed on Vanessa. He wasn’t sure what would come of this, wasn’t sure if he could even offer her the kind of relationship she might want. But for the first time in a long time, he felt like there was something—someone—worth pursuing, even if he didn��t fully understand it yet.

Levi’s lips tugged into the faintest hint of a smile as he approached the gates of Scout HQ. He wasn’t one for grand gestures or declarations, but he knew one thing for certain: Vanessa had found her way into his life, and Levi didn’t want her to leave.

…

Vanessa stepped inside her home, softly closing the door behind her, and immediately leaned against it. Her heart was still racing, and a wide smile was plastered across her face—one she couldn’t wipe away no matter how much she tried. The kiss. The date. Everything about the evening had been perfect in a way she never could have expected.

She felt giddy, almost lightheaded with happiness. Levi Ackerman—stoic, battle-hardened, and so reserved—had shared an evening with her that felt so personal, so genuine. And even more, she had kissed him on the cheek. A small gesture, but it had felt monumental in its own right. The warmth of that moment stayed with her, and she couldn’t stop replaying it over and over in her mind.

As she walked further into the house, still lost in her thoughts, Vanessa found herself grinning wider. He’s so handsome, she thought, feeling her heart flutter all over again. Levi wasn’t traditionally charming in the way other men were, but he had his own unique way about him. There was something incredibly captivating about how subtle his affections were, how reserved but deliberate his actions were. 

And then there was his appearance—those sharp, grey eyes that seemed to see everything, his chiseled features that gave him a rugged yet refined look, and that strength he carried so effortlessly. Vanessa found herself admiring every little thing about him, from the way he spoke in his clipped, no-nonsense tone to the rare softness in his gaze when he looked at her.

“He’s… just perfect,” she murmured to herself, still smiling as she drifted through the small living room.

Vivian, who had been sitting at the dining table, noticed the shift in the air immediately. Her daughter had walked in with a grin that hadn’t left her face since she stepped through the door, and Vivian couldn’t help but feel a swell of warmth in her chest. It had been a long time since she’d seen Vanessa this happy, so utterly radiant with joy.

Vivian’s eyes sparkled as she quietly watched Vanessa, who seemed to be lost in her own thoughts. She hadn’t seen her daughter smile like this in… well, she couldn’t remember the last time. Ever since Levi had entered her life, there had been a change—a positive one. Vanessa was glowing, more confident, more sure of herself in ways that hadn’t been there before.

“So,” Vivian began, her voice carrying a knowing, teasing tone, “how did your evening with Captain Levi go?”

Vanessa jumped slightly, startled out of her daydream. She turned to face her mother, cheeks flushed but still smiling wide. “It was… amazing,” she admitted, her voice soft but filled with emotion. “We went horseback riding, and he set up a picnic by the lake. It was so thoughtful. I never expected him to do something like that.”

Vivian raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “A picnic? Well, I’ll be. He’s more romantic than I gave him credit for.”

Vanessa laughed softly, walking over to sit beside her mother. “He’s got his own way of showing it,” she said, her voice quiet but filled with affection. “He’s not like most people. He’s… different. He doesn’t say much, but when he does, you can tell it’s real.”

Vivian smiled warmly at her daughter, placing a hand on Vanessa’s. “I can tell you like him a lot,” she said gently.

Vanessa’s smile faltered for a moment, but it wasn’t out of uncertainty—just the weight of what she felt for Levi. She hadn’t expected to feel this way, hadn’t thought someone like him would ever see her in the way he did. But now that he had, now that they had shared these moments, it was impossible to deny how much she liked him.

“I really do,” Vanessa admitted softly, her cheeks flushing again. “He’s just… Levi’s different from anyone I’ve ever met. He’s strong, but not just physically—there’s something about the way he carries himself. And he’s a bit old-fashioned in some ways, but I think that’s part of what I like about him.”

Vivian’s grin widened at that, her eyes sparkling with motherly pride. “It sounds like he’s quite the catch.”

Vanessa laughed, the sound soft and light, but her heart still raced at the thought of Levi. “He is. And I know he doesn’t show it much, but I think… I think he cares about me, too.”

Vivian squeezed her hand gently. “I can see it, Ness,” she said warmly. “I see it every time he looks at you. He might not be the type to say it out loud, but he shows it in his actions.”

Vanessa nodded, her smile returning as her thoughts drifted back to Levi. “Yeah. I know,” she whispered.

Vivian watched her daughter for a moment longer, her heart swelling with happiness. It had been so long since Vanessa had looked this content, this confident in herself. And now, thanks to Levi, she was blooming in ways Vivian had always hoped she would.

“Well,” Vivian said with a teasing grin, “you’d better get some sleep if you’re going to keep up with that soldier of yours.”

Vanessa’s eyes widened, and she blushed deeply at the implication. “Mom!” she protested, but there was no real bite to her voice—just the flustered warmth of someone who had been caught thinking too much about someone special.

Vivian chuckled softly, giving her daughter a knowing look before standing and heading toward the kitchen. “Goodnight, my love,” she called over her shoulder, leaving Vanessa alone with her thoughts.

As Vanessa sat there, her mind wandered back to that final moment—the kiss. It was small, just a peck on the cheek, but it felt like a giant step forward. She couldn’t help but wonder what Levi had thought of it. Had he been surprised? Did he like it? Would there be more?

Her heart fluttered again at the thought, and she sighed softly, a smile still tugging at her lips.

Whatever happens next, Vanessa thought, I’m ready.

And for the first time in a long time, she truly believed it.

….

The next day at The Sweet House, Vanessa could hardly contain her excitement as she worked behind the counter, her mind still buzzing from the events of the previous night. The warmth of Levi’s kiss on the cheek still lingered, and as she busied herself with pastries, she could feel her cheeks flush every time the memory resurfaced.

Robin and Emma, her two closest friends and coworkers, immediately sensed that something was different the moment Vanessa arrived that morning. It wasn’t hard to see. She was practically glowing, her wide smile never fading, and every time they caught her staring off into space, they exchanged knowing glances. 

“So?” Robin leaned in, eyes wide with curiosity, as she balanced a tray of cookies. “Tell us. What happened yesterday on your date with Captain Levi?”

Emma, who was filling the display with fresh muffins, hurried over, barely able to contain her excitement. “Yes, tell us everything!” she chimed in, her eyes sparkling with anticipation.

Vanessa bit her lip, feeling a mixture of excitement and embarrassment as she recalled the night. “Well… it was amazing,” she started, her voice soft but filled with emotion. “He took me horseback riding, and we had a picnic by the lake.”

Both Robin and Emma gasped, leaning in closer as they listened intently. 

“A picnic?” Emma whispered, her eyes wide. “Levi Ackerman… planned a picnic?”

Vanessa nodded, her cheeks flushing pink as she smiled. “Yes. And he even packed everything himself. It was so thoughtful.” 

Robin was practically bouncing on her toes with excitement. “And? And? What else happened?”

Vanessa hesitated for a moment, feeling the fluttering in her chest as she thought about that final moment by her doorstep. “Well… when he walked me home, I… I kissed him on the cheek.”

Robin and Emma let out identical squeals of excitement, their eyes wide with disbelief and joy.

“No way!” Robin cried, nearly dropping the tray in her hands. “You kissed Captain Levi? That’s huge!”

Emma grabbed Vanessa’s arm, her face lit up with excitement. “Ness, that’s amazing! And how did he react?”

Vanessa smiled shyly, her cheeks turning an even deeper shade of pink. “He didn’t say much, but he didn’t pull away. He just… accepted it. And then he told me to get inside like it was nothing, but I think… I think it meant something to him.”

Emma practically swooned, clutching her chest dramatically. “That’s so romantic!”

Robin grinned, clearly over the moon for Vanessa. “I’m so happy for you, Ness. It’s been so long since I’ve seen you this happy.”

They were so engrossed in the conversation that they barely noticed when a customer who had been sitting in the bakery walked up to the counter, flashing Robin a charming smile. “Hey there,” he said, his voice smooth. “You’ve got a real pretty smile. Think I could have your company with my coffee?”

Without missing a beat, and without even looking at him, Robin waved him off dismissively. “Not now,” she muttered, clearly too invested in Vanessa’s story to care about the random flirting. “Come back later.”

The man blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting to be brushed off so quickly, and awkwardly shuffled away, mumbling something under his breath.

Vanessa couldn’t help but laugh softly at the interaction, but before she could say anything, the bell above the door chimed. She glanced up, expecting another customer, but her breath caught in her throat as she saw who it was.

Levi.

And he wasn’t alone. In his hands, he held a bouquet of flowers—simple, elegant, and completely unexpected.

Robin and Emma immediately froze, their jaws dropping as they stared at the scene unfolding in front of them. 

“No way…” Robin whispered, her voice filled with disbelief.

Emma’s eyes were as wide as saucers as she elbowed Vanessa. “Are you seeing this, Ness?! He’s holding flowers!”

Vanessa stood frozen in place, her heart hammering in her chest as Levi approached the counter. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing—Levi Ackerman, the stoic captain, walking into the bakery with flowers in his hands.

Levi stopped in front of her, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever, though there was a faint flicker of something softer in his eyes. Without a word, he extended the bouquet toward her, holding it out in his usual straightforward manner.

“These are for you,” he said simply, his voice low and steady.

Vanessa’s heart skipped a beat as she stared at the flowers, her face turning bright red. She could feel the eyes of Robin and Emma on her, but for a moment, all she could focus on was Levi and the gentle gesture in front of her. 

She reached out, her hands trembling slightly as she took the bouquet from him, the soft scent of the flowers filling the air between them. “Levi… I—thank you,” she stammered, completely flustered and overwhelmed by the gesture.

Robin and Emma, unable to contain themselves, let out another squeal of excitement, clapping their hands together as they bounced in place. “He brought you flowers!” Emma whispered excitedly.

Levi shot a brief glance at Robin and Emma, clearly aware of their reaction, but he didn’t seem fazed by it. Instead, he looked back at Vanessa, his expression softening just a fraction.

“I wanted to thank you,” he said quietly. “For yesterday.”

Vanessa’s heart melted at his words, and she smiled, her cheeks still flushed with embarrassment but filled with warmth. “You didn’t have to do that,” she said softly, her voice trembling slightly. “But… it means a lot.”

Levi gave a small nod, his eyes lingering on hers for a moment before he spoke again. “I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said simply, turning to leave the bakery with the same calm grace he always carried.

As soon as the door closed behind him, Robin and Emma erupted into excited squeals, practically jumping up and down as they grabbed Vanessa by the arms.

“Ness, I can’t believe this!” Robin cried, her face filled with pure joy. “He brought you flowers!”

Emma nodded eagerly, her eyes wide with excitement. “Captain Levi is totally into you! This is incredible!”

Vanessa, still holding the bouquet, felt her heart swell with emotion. She could hardly believe it herself, but the flowers in her hands were real. Levi had brought them just for her. 

And in that moment, as she stood there surrounded by her friends, Vanessa realized that maybe—just maybe—this thing with Levi was something real. Something that was only just beginning.

….

Back at Scout HQ, the once hectic, war-torn atmosphere had finally given way to a strange kind of peace. It was still a bit surreal for many of the soldiers—adjusting to a world where the constant threat of Titans and war no longer hung over their heads. With the Rumbling successfully completed and no enemies left on the horizon, the Scouts, like the rest of the military, were beginning to settle into more mundane routines.

Levi, as always, was focused on the task at hand, though the pace of life had slowed considerably. The once perpetual tension that had gripped the soldiers of Paradis had lessened, and even the most stoic of them could be seen relaxing. He was in his office, quietly sifting through reports when the door creaked open.

“Levi!” Hange’s familiar, energetic voice rang through the room as she stepped inside, barely giving him a moment’s notice before barging in.

Levi didn’t look up from his paperwork but let out a sigh. “Hange, I’m working.”

Hange, unbothered by his usual gruff demeanor, plopped down in the chair across from him, her eyes sparkling with the mischief that Levi had come to expect. “Working? Things are peaceful now, Levi! You should be thinking about other things.”

Levi continued to read through the report in front of him, pretending not to hear the implication in her tone. “There’s always work to be done.”

Hange leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms as she gave him a knowing smile. “Speaking of ‘other things’… I hear there’s a military ball coming up. It’s for all three regiments, you know. Garrison, Military Police, and the Survey Corps. A celebration of peace.”

Levi didn’t respond, still focused on the report. He had heard about the ball, of course. It wasn’t the kind of event he cared much about—fancy uniforms, speeches, music, dancing—it all seemed a little pointless to him. But with the new world they were in, the military was trying to foster more camaraderie, more unity among the regiments.

“I wonder if you’re going to bring someone,” Hange continued, her voice teasing. “Like… maybe a certain baker who’s been making you smile more than usual?”

Levi’s pen paused for the briefest second, but he didn’t look up. “I don’t smile.”

Hange laughed, leaning forward with a wide grin. “Come on, Levi. Don’t act like we haven’t all noticed. You’ve been sneaking off to that bakery almost every morning. And from what I saw, Vanessa is just as smitten with you. So, are you going to ask her to be your date?”

Levi’s jaw tightened slightly, though it wasn’t out of irritation. He finally set the report down, his sharp grey eyes meeting Hange’s curious gaze. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Hange raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. “Haven’t thought about it, huh? You’re telling me you haven’t even considered asking Vanessa to the ball?”

Levi didn’t answer right away, but his mind did wander briefly to Vanessa—the way her face had lit up when he brought her those flowers, the way her lips had brushed against his cheek that night after their first date. He had been thinking about her more than he cared to admit, but it wasn’t in his nature to dwell on such things, let alone talk about them.

Hange, as perceptive as always, saw right through his silence. “Levi, you know you like her. And from the looks of it, she likes you too. What’s holding you back?”

Levi leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly as he considered Hange’s words. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to ask Vanessa. If anything, he had thought about it more than he cared to admit. But asking her to a ball, making it public—it felt like stepping into a new territory, one he wasn’t sure he was ready for.

“I’m not sure it’s…” Levi started, then paused, searching for the right words. He wasn’t used to this—talking about feelings, relationships. It had never been a priority in his life, not with everything else that had always taken precedence. But now, in this quiet world, with the war behind them, there was something different. “I don’t know if she’d want that.”

Hange snorted, leaning forward. “Are you kidding me? Levi, I think Vanessa would love it if you asked her. She’s probably waiting for you to make the first move.”

Levi’s gaze shifted to the papers on his desk, though his mind was no longer on them. The idea of bringing Vanessa to the ball—it wasn’t something he had ever done before, inviting someone to something so public. But the more he thought about it, the more the idea seemed… possible.

“And,” Hange added with a sly smile, “where do you see things going with her? Do you want Vanessa to be your girlfriend? Because it’s starting to look that way.”

Levi tensed at the question, though he wasn’t surprised. Hange had never been one to tiptoe around uncomfortable topics, especially when it came to him. His mind went back to Vanessa again—her kindness, her quiet strength, and the way she had gently, yet steadily, found her way into his life. Did he want her to be his girlfriend? The thought had crossed his mind more than once, but admitting that, even to himself, was new territory.

“I’m not sure what you’re asking, Hange,” Levi finally said, his tone more defensive than he intended. He hated how clumsy the words felt, how out of his depth he was with this. “We’ve only had a few moments together.”

Hange gave him a pointed look. “Levi, it’s obvious to everyone. She cares about you, and you care about her. Maybe it’s time you stop overthinking it and just… be honest about how you feel.”

Levi didn’t respond, but Hange could tell her words had struck a chord. After a moment, she stood up, stretching her arms above her head. “Well, if you don’t ask her, someone else might, you know. The ball’s coming up soon.”

Levi’s eyes flickered to Hange, something sharp and territorial flashing in them at the thought of anyone else asking Vanessa to the ball. But he said nothing, and Hange chuckled to herself, clearly pleased.

“I’ll leave you to your reports, then,” she said, heading toward the door. Before stepping out, she turned back one last time, giving him a wink. “Think about it, Levi. It’s about time you had something good in your life.”

As the door closed behind her, Levi sat in silence for a moment, his thoughts filled with Vanessa. Maybe Hange was right. Maybe it was time to stop overthinking everything and just… take the step. He hadn’t thought about it before, but now the idea of asking Vanessa to the ball—and maybe even asking her to be more than just someone he visited—didn’t seem so far-fetched.

Levi sighed, leaning back in his chair and staring at the ceiling. His mind was set.

Maybe it’s time to see where this could go.

~

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