#she's murdered so many people 🥰🥰🥰

[jungkoode]

死 KKANGPAE | #09 死

† leather jacket †

“You always knew alcohol could be intoxicating in its own way—but sometimes it takes a few more drops of vodka and some leather jackets for the effect to really seep into your veins."

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⚔ chapter details ⚔

word count: 5.5k

rating: mature

content: drinking, lowkey hints being dropped, sope bantering like a married couple, truth or dare, V being a lil shit, clothes swap, sexual tension, leather jackets and their scent lingering on your body

☠ author's note ☠

OOOOP? Early chapter drop? Yup yup! Your support and enthusiasm reaching the goal for FMU 14 has truly motivated me and I was honestly SO hyped to post this and see you guys reactions? 👀

Not me having written a completely different version of how this chapter could have gone and keeping it from you all… (◕‿◕✿)

What can I say? That's what happens when you’re sad and horny. Don't worry though, I've saved it for… research purposes???

ANYWAY! There will be time for that in the future. Many times. Many, many times. cackles maniacally while typing

Is the slow burn slow burning enough for you? I don't know about you, but I LIVE for that charged atmosphere where every accidental brush of hands feels like someone dropped a toaster in a bathtub. The lingering stares! The almost-moments! The internal screaming! Beautiful stuff, truly.

And we're finally delving deeper into the plot! Nine chapters in and you finally know the reason behind the number one rule of the gang. Took long enough, right? In my defense, building tension is an art form, and I am but a humble disaster pretending to be an artist.

Also, yes, the goal is right below at the end of the chapter. It's ridiculously high because you all TERRIFY ME. Last time I set it at 100 thinking "this should take them a few days at least" and y'all demolished that in less than 24 hours. :))))) So suffer the consequences of your own enthusiasm, hoes lovely people. 🥰

Also because smut is on the horizon, and I'm 100% going to make you work for it because I'm the god of this fictional universe and chaos is my love language. Start engaging, peasants! Your frustration fuels me. 🙂‍↕️

(A bit unrelated but if you’re feeling particularly generous, I’d appreciate if you could go give some love to the stories on my wattpad? Our numbers are quite low over there! Also—reminder that the goal in Wattpad is a lot lower and it works the same as the one here, so… just sayin’.)

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tumblr/twitter: @jungkoode

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☁︎

The walk back to the bonfire feels like playing hopscotch between shadows and firelight. There's gang members scattered around like party decorations, laughing and drinking like it's literally their only worry.

You reach Jeon first, holding out his whisky. When his fingers brush yours, something electric zips through your skin. He takes the glass quickly—but not quick enough to hide that moment of hesitation.

"Thanks," he mutters, voice softer than usual—not as stormy as it usually is.

You just nod, trying to ignore how your skin tingles where he touched you.

Stop being a stupid bitch. 

You fish out a beer from your hoodie and pass it to Takama.

"Here."

"Thanks!" Takama's grin is always genuine, you notice.

You drop onto the bench next to Yunjin, whose bubblegum hair looks almost neon in the firelight. She brightens when you hand her the other beer.

"You're actually the best," she declares, popping the tab. "What'd you get?"

You lift your glass. "Vodka lemonade. Moon knows his stuff."

"It's weird seeing everyone so... normal," she muses, watching the crowd. "Like we're just regular people having drinks."

"Right?" You take a sip, enjoying the perfect balance of sweet and sharp. "No ranks, no murder plots. Just vibing."

She hums. "Moon's got skills though. That drink looks good."

"He's amazing at it." Another sip confirms it. "Said he wanted to own a bar once. Can you imagine? Our Deputy Commander mixing drinks in some cozy pub?"

"That's... actually kind of perfect for him?" Yunjin tilts her head. "He's got that whole calm, 'everything's under control' energy. Makes perfect sense as to why RM would choose him as his right hand."

"Yeah." You swirl your drink, thinking about what he said earlier. "Makes you wonder what everyone else wanted to be before... all this."

She goes quiet for a moment. "Weird how we all ended up here, huh? Different paths leading to the same psychotic family."

"At least the company's good." You bump her shoulder with yours.

"Yeah." Her smile turns soft. "Really good."

The vodka warms your chest, or maybe it's just the way Yunjin leans against you, comfortable and familiar.

Eunchae suddenly throws her arms around you and Yunjin, all tipsy affection and bright smiles. Her body sways slightly, using you both for balance.

"My favorite bitchessss," she sing-songs, words already slurring. "How're you doing?"

Yunjin melts into the group hug, giggling. "Just vibing. How many drinks have you had?"

"Who's counting?" Eunchae's laughing in that drunken way she has when she's on her third glass of rum. "It's a party!"

You snort, patting her arm. "Maybe slow down though? Night's still young."

"And I plan to make the most of it!" She beams like it's the most brilliant plan ever.

The moment shatters when V practically twirls into the firelight, radiating that chaotic energy that always accompanies him wherever he goes.

His smile, of course, is all teeth—sharp and bright.

"Heeeey everyone!" He throws his arms wide, commanding attention like he was born for it. "Let's remember why we're here! Celebrating our dear leader taking over after his brother got fucking murdered!"

The crowd actually cheers—because of course they do. V could probably announce the apocalypse and make it sound fun. But J-Hope steps in, doctor mode activated.

"V." His tone carries a warning. "Dial it back."

V rolls his eyes like a teenager caught sneaking out, but his grin never falters. You sense weird vibes oozing off him under that playful expression he wears—but it's like he's wrapped it in enough charm that it goes unnoticed.

Or maybe you're reaching?

"His brother's dead?" The words slip out before you can stop them. You turn to J-Hope, curiosity burning. "What happened?"

J-Hope sighs, looking like he'd rather be anywhere else. His fingers tap against his thigh—a nervous tell if you know how to spot one.

"It's not exactly classified," he says carefully, weighing each word. "But it's... complicated. RM wasn't always in charge. The gang belonged to his brother first."

You exchange looks with Yunjin, both leaning in slightly. This is the kind of story that explains so much about how Kkangpae operates.

About why certain rules exist.

J-Hope's face contorts in the dim light, shadows dancing over his features he debates how much to share. V watches from across the flames, that sharp smile still in place, like he's enjoying the tension he's created.

"His brother?" Yunjin's eyes go wide with curiosity.

"It's about betrayal," J-Hope says, voice dropping low. "RM's brother led Kkangpae before him. His fiancée sold him out to MDF, and..." He trails off, letting the implication hang in the air.

A chill runs down your spine despite the bonfire's warmth.

"So RM had to take over?"

J-Hope nods, running a hand through his hair.

"Nam—" He catches himself, clearing his throat. "RM stepped up when everything was falling apart. Gang was splitting at the seams, losing territory to MDF."

"Built it back from nothing," Chaewon adds quietly. "That's why he's so strict about relationships. He's seen what they can do to people."

You notice Jeon tense at that last part on your periphery, though he's trying to look uninvolved. Something flickers across his face—pain maybe, or guilt—before his expression locks down again. His fingers twitch toward the cigarette pack he can't use.

"That's..." Yunjin leans closer, voice barely above a whisper. "It explains a lot about how things work around here."

"Heavy legacy to carry," you murmur, watching RM across the fire. He's laughing at something Moon said, but there's weight in his shoulders that makes more sense now.

"Can't forget where we came from." J-Hope's eyes drift to his glass of water. "Makes us stronger, but also more careful. Trust is..." He shakes his head. "Trust is complicated here."

The conversation dies out naturally, leaving you all to digest the story. Smoke from the bonfire drifts up in weird rivulets, as if dissolving the thick fog of tension that seems to have settled over all of you. You find yourself studying RM with new eyes, seeing past the white hair and commanding presence to the brother who had to rebuild from ashes.

You can't help but wonder how many other secrets this gang holds, how many other stories wait in the dark corners of the castle.

"Must've taken some serious balls," Yunjin says softly, respect clear in her voice. "Building everything back up like that."

"It did." J-Hope responds in a hushed tone. "RM rebuilt from scratch—new recruits, stronger divisions. Dragged us back from the edge. Now look at us."

You let the weight of it sink in, watching the flames dance. Because this? This explains so much. About everything and everyone.

The strict rules, the emphasis on loyalty, why everyone walks on eggshells around certain topics.

"That's why we celebrate." JM appears beside you, hands tucked into his oversized cardigan. "Remembering where we started, how far we've come."

The energy shifts suddenly as RM approaches, beer in hand, firelight catching on his dyed hair. His smile is crooked, eyebrow raised like he knows you've been talking about him.

"Why's everyone looking so serious?" He asks, though playfully.

V materializes like he's been summoned, snatching someone's beer out of their hands like it's normal. He clinks his bottle against RM's with dramatic flair.

"Oh, just sharing tales of our glorious leader." V grins, and it sounds almost mocking—were it not for the respect clearly coloring his tone despite all that theatrical bullshit.

RM's eyebrow climbs higher, amusement flickering across his face. He takes a slow sip, eyes scanning your little group like he's reading a particularly interesting book.

"Legendary tales?" He chuckles, the sound warming the night air. "Should I be worried?"

"Just telling it like it is." J-Hope's smile is soft. "What you've built here."

Silence falls, but it's not weird, or tense or uncomfortable. Rather, it's like a brief respite where everyone can gather their thoughts, really look at RM and ponder all he has achieved.

No wonder everyone respects him so much.

"Not just me," he says quietly. "Every person here made Kkangpae what it is today."

You watch him immediately work the crowd, joking and talking with members from every division. It's impressive how he balances it all—being both the guy who can order executions and the one who remembers everyone's birthday.

You know now why people would literally die for him.

RM is not only a leader—but a mentor. A companion. A friend.

AD finally graces everyone with his presence about twenty minutes later.

And holy shit, he's wearing actual pajamas with a puffer jacket thrown over them—giving exactly zero fucks about dress codes or basic social norms.

His hands are stuffed in his pockets as he approaches, moving with his usual 'everyone here is an idiot' energy. The crowd parts for him automatically—partly out of respect, partly because nobody wants to deal with his grumpy ass when he's been interrupted mid-game.

"This meat better be worth dropping League for," he announces to no one in particular, a mix of annoyance and vague threat.

A few people laugh because, well, of course AD was gaming. Man would probably try to finish a match during the apocalypse.

You catch Jeon using the distraction to slip away, moving toward the BBQ area with that silent grace that makes him such a good sniper. His timing is s̶u̶s̶p̶i̶c̶i̶o̶u̶s̶l̶y̶ perfectly calculated to avoid AD.

Takama notices too, because that man apparently notices everything. He gives the group a small smile.

"Going to help with dinner prep," he says casually, but the knowing look in his eyes says he's well aware of what he's actually doing—running interference between two of Kkangpae's most complicated relationships.

You watch Takama head for the grill, where Moon and Jeon are already setting up for dinner.

AD drops into a spot near the fire, his puffer jacket rustling against pajama pants. Only he could show up to a gang celebration dressed for a gaming marathon and still command respect.

The perks of being a genius, you guess.

"He's always like this." Yunjin whispers, leaning her pink head against your shoulder. "All grumpy but like... in a way that works?"

"Yeah." You watch AD pull out his phone, probably checking League stats. "Like he exists in his own dimension but somehow still runs cyber security for a whole criminal organization."

Eunchae sways closer, definitely past tipsy now. "He's literally just a cat in human form." She giggles. "A really smart, really angry cat who can hack the government."

"That's AD for you." J-Hope's smile is fond despite his words. "Brilliant bastard works best when we leave him alone with his computers."

The conversation drifts into lighter territory, gang members sharing stories about missions gone wrong and parties gone wild.

Someone brings up the time V tried to convince everyone he could parkour off the castle roof (he couldn't), and another mentions how AD once hacked the castle's speaker system to blast K-pop when RM pissed him off.

At some point, your eyes end up drifting to the grill again, where Jeon's rolled up his sleeves to help with the meat. The distant light catches on his silver chain, on the tattoos snaking down his arms, and—

Noooope. You take a long sip of your drink.

Tonight's about having fun with your friends, not staring at your division chief like some horny teenager.

After a couple minutes, RM's got everyone hooked on some wild story about a past operation. He's actually a good storyteller—knows exactly when to pause for dramatic effect, when to throw in a joke. His white hair glows as he gestures, painting pictures of close calls and clever escapes.

Everyone goes quiet as he hits the climax, especially the new recruits like you.

Because this is more than just a story—it's their story, really. All the shit they've been through together, all the wins and losses that made Kkangpae what it is.

Movement catches your eye as Jeon comes back from the grill, empty-handed but smelling like smoke and grilled meat. His eyes sweep the crowd before landing on you for a beat too long. You don't know why you shift in your seat.

The smell of dinner gets stronger, making your stomach growl. Moon and Takama have outdone themselves, judging by the heavenly aromas drifting over.

You stretch as you stand, joints popping after sitting so long. Everyone migrates toward the food like moths to flame, and you walk behind everyone right along Yunjin.

Once it's your turn, Takama hands you a plate with a little bow, looking stupidly proud of himself. The grill's loaded with enough food to feed an army, everything sizzling and perfectly charred.

"What'll it be?" He grins, waving at the spread. "Got spicy pork, garlic shrimp, Moon's fancy chicken..."

You're still trying to decide when Jeon appears beside you like a s��e̶x̶y̶ stealthy shadow. The heat from the grill has nothing on the warmth he radiates like a fucking stove.

"Try the bulgogi," he says quietly, like he's sharing a secret. "Moon's got a special marinade."

You turn to him, eyebrows raised. "Yeah? That what you usually get?"

His lips quirk up slightly, pupils reflecting the firelight. "I know good food when I see it. Trust me on this one."

"Fine," you match his almost-smile. "But if it sucks, I'm blaming you."

Something flickers across his face—amusement maybe, or satisfaction. "Deal. But it won't."

Takama watches this exchange with poorly hidden surprise.

"He's right though," he adds, grinning. "Moon really outdid himself tonight."

Takama loads your plate with bulgogi and all the fixings, somehow making even serving food look elegant. You catch Jeon watching you, his dark eyes lingering on you for a hot second before snapping back to the grill.

The plate feels heavy as you turn away.

Was that—

No.

You definitely didn't just see the ghost of a smile on Jeon's stupidly p̶r̶e̶t̶t̶y̶ annoying face.

You shake your head, trying to dislodge that thought along with the weird flutter in your chest. Walk back to the bonfire, where everyone has gathered once again.

You catch AD practically drooling over his plate of meat when J-Hope strikes like a particularly aggressive mother hen. In one smooth motion, he swaps AD's feast for what looks like a garden threw up on a plate.

"What the fuck?" AD stares at his new plate of greens like it personally offended his entire family. "The hell is this shit?"

J-Hope grins, way too pleased with himself. "It's called vegetables, genius. Some of us care if you die of scurvy."

"Did I fucking ask?" AD's eye twitches. "Give me my food back before I hack your medical license."

"Not happening." J-Hope holds the meat plate higher. "Your blood work was atrocious last check. You need fiber."

AD rises from his seat like a hissing cat. "Listen here, you overgrown nurse—"

"Fucking—!" J-Hope dances backward, still holding the plate hostage. "I swear to god, you're worse than a toddler—"

"At least toddlers don't have to deal with control freak doctors!" AD lunges for the plate. "Give it back before I reprogram all the hospital equipment to play Baby Shark!"

"Try it!" J-Hope dodges. "I'm not letting you die of a heart attack at thirty just because you refuse to eat a vegetable!"

They chase each other around the fire like two cats fighting over territory, completely forgetting they're supposed to be respected Council members.

Truly, the sight of Kkangpae's scariest hacker trying to tackle their head doctor over grilled meat is... something else.

J-Hope scurries away from AD's grab, his face scrunching with frustration. "God, you're so difficult. Maybe if you ate a vegetable once in your life, I wouldn't have to babysit you!"

"Fuck off!" AD snarls. "I survived this long without your fucking helicopter parenting."

"Oh, I don't know, maybe it's thanks to my job as Chief Medical Officer?" J-Hope throws his hands up.

"Which you're gonna lose if you—that's it." AD's eyes narrow dangerously. "I'm revoking your med bay access. Have fun treating patients from the parking lot, doc."

"Are you actually insane?" J-Hope's voice rises. "You want people to die because you're throwing a tantrum over vegetables?"

"There's plenty of doctors in your division." AD's voice drips venom.

"You little—"

"Give me my damn food," AD cuts him off, eyes glinting with malice, "or I'll double your clinic hours too."

J-Hope hands the plate back with a heavy sigh. AD's victory grin would be cute if he wasn't such an insufferable brat about it. He tears into the meat like he hasn't eaten in days, and J-Hope watches with the tired resignation of someone who's fought this battle too many times.

You don't miss how V drapes himself over JM like an overly affectionate puppy, all charm in one package. His voice drops low, honey-sweet with poison underneath.

"Your hair's like moonlight on the Han River tonight, Chim."

JM flushes pink, fingers twisting the hem of his oversized cardigan. It's weird seeing the Finance Chief so f̶l̶u̶s̶t̶e̶r̶e̶d̶ vulnerable—usually he's all gentle smiles.

"Stop it, Tae," he mumbles, but there's no real protest in it.

V leans back, looking way too pleased with himself. His laugh sounds like dark chocolate tastes. "What? Can't admire how pretty you make yourself?"

"Not for you," JM says, but his lips twitch upward.

"No?" V's eyes glitter dangerously. "For the stars then? Giving them competition?"

JM shakes his head, laughing despite himself. "You're absolutely ridiculous."

"You love it though." V tilts his face skyward, looking like butter wouldn't melt in his mouth. But you've seen him throw knives without blinking. "Admit it, Jimin. You'd be so bored without me."

"Maybe." JM's voice goes soft. Fond.

You watch them, these two opposite forces... It's like watching a mouse play with a snake, except the mouse knows exactly what game they're playing.

The fire makes V's face look almost tender, and you wonder if that smile is sincere at all.

The bonfire's died down to a gentle pulse now.

Most of the gang's cleared out, leaving just the Council and a few others scattered around.

You smell it in the air—woodsmoke and lingering BBQ smell, plus that weird mix of everyone's signature scents—cinnamon, sandalwood, fresh lemons.

Pine.

AD sways on his feet, drink sloshing dangerously in his hand.

"One more round?" His words blur together, eyes squinting like he's trying to focus on three J-Hopes at once.

SMACK.

J-Hope's hand connects with the back of AD's neck. "You're already wasted, dumbass. Put the glass down."

"Fuck off," AD rubs his neck, scowling like an angry kid. "I'm celebrating."

"Celebrating what? Your last functioning brain cell?" J-Hope's eyebrow shoots up. "Remember last time? When you redecorated my clinic walls?"

"That was—" AD waves vaguely, almost falling over. "Different."

"Right." J-Hope's voice drips sarcasm. "Just like when I had to carry your drunk ass upstairs while you rambled about beating RM at Mario Kart?"

"Never happened." AD tries to stand straighter, fails spectacularly. "I never lose Mario Kart. 'Specially not to that... that dimpled nerd..."

"Sure." J-Hope watches him sway with tired resignation. "I'm not playing nursemaid tonight. Last time I practically had to read you a bedtime story."

"Got there fine myself!" AD protests.

"After decorating the hallway with your dinner!" J-Hope throws his hands up. "The recruits thought someone had poisoned you!"

Everyone laughs, because watching Kkangpae's scariest hacker get mothered by their head doctor is honestly peak entertainment.

The fire catches on AD's blonde hair as he wobbles again, and you catch J-Hope tensing, ready to catch him if needed.

For all their bickering, it's kind of s̶w̶e̶e̶t̶ amusing how they look out for each other.

"Let's play truth or dare." AD's eyes gleam with drunk mischief. "Keep the party going without dying of alcohol poisoning."

Everyone shuffles closer to the dying fire, and you settle between Yunjin and Eunchae, feeling the warmth of both the fire and the vodka in your system.

"No life-threatening dares," RM warns, using his Commander Voice™ despite the slight slur in his words.

Eunchae bounces in her seat, hair vibrating with her. "I'll start!" She zeroes in on JM. "Truth or dare?"

JM fidgets with his cardigan sleeve, firelight catching on his round glasses. "Truth."

"Ever stolen from anyone here?" She leans forward, grinning.

Pink creeps across JM's cheeks. "I... maybe borrowed V's favorite lighter once? But I gave it back!"

"Knew it wasn't just misplaced." V drapes himself over JM's shoulders, smile sharp. "My little thief."

The nickname makes JM flush darker. Everyone laughs, and he quickly redirects attention to AD. "Your turn. Truth or dare?"

"Dare." AD's still rubbing his neck where J-Hope smacked him earlier. "Do your worst."

"Most embarrassing mission moment. Spill."

AD's cocky grin falters. "Fuck. Fine. Had to hide in a dumpster once. Got attacked by this demon cat for two hours straight. Came back looking and smelling like actual garbage."

You snort so hard your drink almost comes out your nose. Even Jeon's lips twitch, which is practically rolling on the floor laughing by his standards.

"Yeah, yeah." AD waves off the laughter. "V, truth or dare?"

"Dare, obviously." V's eyes glitter dangerously.

"Do your best Flower impression."

V stands with theatrical grace, straightening his posture until he looks eerily like your division chief. His voice goes sharp, nailing Chaewon's don't test me tone.

"Listen up, you worthless men. Touch my girls, I remove your hands. This is a crucial mission—no room for your masculine incompetence. Follow the plan or face consequences. I hate all of you equally." He pauses, then adds sweetly, "Except Jimin, of course."

Everyone loses it at V's impression, especially JM who's clapping like an excited seal. V takes an exaggerated bow before dropping back down next to JM.

"Not bad." Chaewon tries to hide her smile and fails. "But we'll work on that impression later."

"My turn." V's eyes lock onto RM with some kind of sharp focus he gets sometimes. "Boss man, truth or dare?"

RM sets his drink down, looking thoughtful. "Truth."

"Ever regret any decisions as our fearless leader?"

RM goes quiet. Something dark passes over his face, and you remember what J-Hope said earlier about his brother, about betrayal and loss.

"Yes." His voice comes out rough. "Leadership comes with its share of regrets."

Silence descends, only the crackling fire interrupting it. It's like momentarily, everyone is holding their breath, like they've stumbled onto something they weren't meant to see.

"But that's in the past." RM shakes it off, mask sliding back into place. "Jessi, truth or dare?"

"Dare." She sits up straighter, ready for anything.

"Dance around the fire." RM's smile turns playful again.

"Pffft. Easy."

Jessi jumps up without hesitation because of course she does. She moves like she fights—confident, though clearly powerful. Everyone cheers her on, the earlier tension dissolving into laughter.

"That was fun." She drops back into her seat, grinning. "Moon, truth or dare?"

"Truth." Moon adjusts his glasses, looking amused.

"Got any secret wine stashes in that castle of yours?"

"Not so secret now." He chuckles. "A man needs his vices, and good wine happens to be mine."

The game continues, everyone getting progressively bolder with their challenges as the alcohol flows.

You're about to call it a night when V's eyes land on you.

A dangerous sparkle glints on them, and you don't like it one bit.

"Your turn, princess. Truth or dare?"

You blame the vodka for what comes out of your mouth next.

"Dare."

The way V's smile spreads across his face makes your stomach drop. He looks like a cat that just cornered a mouse, which is never a good sign.

"Swap clothes with Jeon."

The group goes quiet. Your eyes snap to Jeon automatically—he's gone rigid, jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth. His eyebrow piercing glints as he quirks it up.

"Pick something else." Jeon's voice is sharp and direct.

"Nope." V pops the 'p', clearly enjoying this. "Rules are rules."

"This isn't—"

"What's wrong?" V cuts him off. "Scared of a little clothing swap?"

Jeon's gaze goes rigid. The fire catches his silver chain as he shifts, and you catch a whiff of pine and mint. His eyes meet yours for a split second before darting away.

"Fine." He practically spits the word. "But just the jacket."

Everyone goes quiet, heads swiveling between you and Jeon. You can practically hear V's inner thoughts as if he's considering pushing for more, but even he knows when he's pushed far enough.

Your heart does a stupid little flip when Jeon shrugs off his leather jacket. Because it's going to smell like him, you realize. Like pine and wood and s̶m̶o̶k̶e̶ whatever.

This is fine. Everything's fine. 

He walks over to you, jacket finally off him—the one he practically lives in, and jesus christ—the black turtleneck underneath fits him like a second skin. Your eyes trace the way it clings to his shoulders, his chest, every muscle clearly defined under the fabric.

You peel off your hoodie before you can overthink it, though it catches in your hair because of course it does. When you finally emerge, your white turtleneck suddenly feels too tight, too revealing.

Especially when Jeon's eyes darken as they sweep over you, and his tongue flicks out to play with his lip ring.

Something hot coils in your stomach.

You try very hard not to stare at his mouth.

His gaze feels like a tongue licking down your neck, lingering where the turtleneck hugs your curves. His Adam's apple bobs, and he wets his lips again.

You catch yourself wondering what that lip ring would feel like against your—

Stop being horny around your superior, damn slut.

The night air raises goosebumps on your arms, but you barely notice. You're too busy trying not to gawk at him again, to openly stare at how his turtleneck stretches across his pecs. Your fingers itch to trace the lines of muscle you can see through the fabric.

But then V's laugh breaks through the tension like a bucket of cold water.

Right. You have an audience.

You thrust your hoodie toward Jeon, desperate to end whatever this heat is.

His fingers brush yours during the exchange, sending electricity shooting up your arm.

You slip into his jacket and immediately regret everything.

You were wrong.

It doesn't smell like pine and wood and whatever.

It smells like leather and tobacco and something wild, like pine trees after rain. Like a fresh breeze coming through the forest on an autumn morning.

Your heart hammers against your ribs as his scent wraps around you.

Jeon looks almost p̶a̶i̶n̶e̶d̶ uncomfortable as he pulls on your hoodie. His usual fluid grace is gone, movements stiff and awkward. The hoodie that drowns you barely fits across his shoulders, and something about seeing him in your clothes makes your pulse skitter.

Okay, no. This is not fine.

Because his goddamn shoulders strain against your hoodie like it's trying to contain a force of nature.

It's weird seeing him in something so... soft?

He moves, trying to adjust in the smaller piece of clothing—clearly not his size. So it rides up, revealing a strip of tattooed skin right above his waistband.

You've seen his tattoos before.

Yet, somehow, this accidental glimpse feels more i̶n̶t̶i̶m̶a̶t̶e̶ inappropriate than all your training sessions combined.

His eyes snap to yours, catching you staring. Suddenly it feels like all oxygen has been depleted. His jaw clenches, the muscles working under his skin in a way that's suddenly very distracting.

Everything feels magnified—the rise and fall of his chest under your hoodie, the flex of his fingers at his sides, the way his silver chain slightly bounces with his breathing.

The party fades to background noise, and all you can focus on is how his presence seems to fill every inch of space around you.

He looks impossibly hot, and it's unfair, really.

It's unfair how your heart pounds so loud you wonder if he can hear it. It's unfair how there's something magnetic about him tonight, something that makes you want to step closer even as your brain screams to maintain distance.

It's in his stance, his gaze, the storm brewing behind his dark eyes.

And then he speaks, low, gravelly and utterly, utterly unfair.

"Looks like it fits you better than it does me, sunshine."

It sends shivers down your spine, that nickname again. Because the way he says it? Like it melts down his lips like honey dripping right from the comb?

Not fair.

But nothing about Jeon has ever seemed fair.

Not now, not before. Not even as you two make it back to your previous sitting spots.

But you saw it—the way something flashed across his face when he said it, like he was allowing himself that tiny reprieve. Something so wild and unguarded that had disappeared so fast you almost think you had imagined it.

Truth or Dare keeps going, each round getting bolder, but you're having trouble focusing. Your brain keeps circling back to the leather jacket wrapped around you, to the scent of forest that's definitely not helping your concentration.

Jeon's eyes find yours across the fire for the hundredth time tonight. The way he's looking at you now... It's definitely different. It makes your neck burn hot.

Because it's like every time your gazes lock, the air gets a little thicker, a little harder to breathe.

"You good?" Yunjin's whisper cuts through your thoughts. She bumps your shoulder, pink hair falling in her face as she studies you with that too-knowing look of hers.

"Yeah, just thinking." You manage a smile, hoping the firelight hides how warm your face feels.

Someone then dares AD to do aegyo and nearly gets their laptop privileges revoked. You laugh, enjoying the moment with your crew.

But you can't lie to yourself. You're still stuck in this weird bubble where all you can focus on is how Jeon's jacket feels against your skin, how it carries his warmth like it's trying to brand you.

It's not long before the bonfire burns low, casting longer shadows across familiar faces. People start drifting away in twos and threes, sleepy and dizzy.

RM stretches. "Time to wrap it up. Early start tomorrow."

"Ready to go?" Yunjin tugs at your sleeve. "I'm about to pass out."

You nod, pushing yourself up on slightly unsteady legs.

The walk back to the castle feels dreamlike, caught between the quiet forest sounds and your own thundering heartbeat. You tell yourself it's just the alcohol making everything feel so intense.

Yunjin is chattering about something and you feel kinda bad—because you're not really listening. Your brain's too busy replaying every moment by the fire, every loaded glance, every touch.

Your room feels smaller somehow when you finally get there. You close the door and lean against it, trying to get your head straight. The fabric over your shoulders heavier now that you're alone, like it's carrying more than just Jeon's scent.

You shrug it off slowly, fingers catching on worn spots in the leather. The smell of pine and wood hits you again, making your stomach do that stupid little flip thing.

You don't want to analyze what that means.

Taking a deep breath (that definitely doesn't make your head spin with his scent), you lay the jacket at the end of your bed.

It looks wrong there, too dark and dangerous against your regular bedding.

You change into pajamas quickly, like you're trying to outrun your own thoughts, and the truth is the cotton feels too soft after the weight of leather, too normal after everything that happened tonight.

Sliding under the covers, your eyes drift back to the jacket.

It's just clothing, just leather and zippers and thread. It lies there, so inanimate—and yet, somehow, so full of meaning.

The castle creaks and settles around you, leaves rustling outside your window as you wait for drowsiness to drag you under.

You tell yourself the only reason you're not hanging the jacket up is because you're too tired.

goal: 300 notes. next chapter will be posted immediately AS SOON as the goal is reached. 🧚🏻 do your thing kiki nation. <3

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🔪 taglist 🔪

@cannotalwaysbenight @livingformintyoongi @itstoastsworld @redcherrykook @somehowukook @stutixmaru @chloepiccoliniii @kimnamjoonmiddletoe @rpwprpwprpwprw @jimineepaboya @annyeongbitch7 @mar-lo-pap @whothefuckisthishoe @mikrokookiex

© jungkoode 2025

no reposts, translations, or adaptations

[1lostsoul0fishbowl]

Thanks so much for tagging me @more-better-words, you’re the best! 🥰🥰🥰

what’s the origin of your blog title? Okay bear with me here but— I was thinking about Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here and the heartcrushing loneliness of “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a fishbowl, year after year” and I thought they’re trapped and then I thought so am I but I don’t even have the fishbowl. It made sense in my head so I rolled with it.

otp(s) + shipname(s):

X-Files: Mulder & Scully (MSR for Mulder Scully Romance, because while these two invented the term “shipping” they did not invent smushing two names together to create a ship name so please never call them ‘sculder’. My original, always & forever OTP.)

Stranger Things: of course I have separate categories for this lmao

Pairs where I don’t ship either person with somebody else: Joyce & Hopper (jopper); Lucas & Max (lumax); Will & Mike (byler); Steve & Kali (stali); and El & Gareth (greatmage).

Pairs where I might occasionally ship one of the people with somebody else: Eddie & Chrissy (hellcheer); Jonathan & Chrissy (photocheer); Jonathan & Argyle (jargyle); Robin & Vickie (I think rockie is the ship name?); and Robin & Nancy (ronance).

Murder, She Wrote: Jessica & Seth (no idea if they even have a ship name. Maybe Fletchlitt? Writerdoc? Sethica? Lolll)

favorite color: my favorite color(s) change all the time. Today it’s the greens and blues of springtime.

song stuck in your head: another Pink Floyd one, Us and Them from Delicate Sound of Thunder (Live). I woke up one day last week thinking about the line “‘forward!’ he cried from the rear, and the front ranks died” and I bawled my eyes out about that for awhile because that’s kinda how it feels to live in murica these days. And it’s been stuck in my head ever since.

weirdest habit/trait: I agree with @more-better-words that it’s impossible to judge your own weirdness, so I asked Mr Losty. He said probably that I narrate my cat’s thoughts out loud in the voice of Prince Herbert from Monty Python and the Holy Grail. “I just want to… SING…”

hobbies: chronic illness kicking my ass lately has made it hard to keep up with any hobbies, but on a good day I love baking, gardening, reading, writing stranger things fanfic, and the aforementioned cat-thought-narration.

if you work, what’s your profession? I haven’t worked in ages due to the also-aforementioned chronic illness kicking my ass. But a long long time ago I did medical billing.

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be? I always thought it would be cool to be a food photographer. I like finding out all the fun tricks they use to make the food look good. Did you know sometimes scoops of ice cream are actually scoops of mashed potato?

something you’re good at: making people laugh (in actual life, not so much online I think)

something you hate: I try not to spend my time hating too many things, but one thing I definitely hate is the stuff you have to drink before a colonoscopy.

something you collect: nice comments people leave on my fics 😊

something you forget: I have perpetual brain fog so I forget everything. On a bad day I could probably forget how to spell my own name.

what’s your love language: listening, being curious, being thoughtful. Like Golden Rule “treat others the way you’d like to be treated” thoughtful. Sometimes that backfires on me though when I don’t get Golden Ruled in return.

…Actually a lot of times it backfires on me. But it’s who I am.

favorite movie/show: ooo okay here’s another thing I hate! I hate being asked this question! I can never think of anything 🤣🤣🤣

Okayyy let’s say movie: The Wedding Singer; show: Murder, She Wrote.

favorite food: literally changes every day. If I’m eating something delicious, it’s my favorite food in that moment. Tonight I had a really yummy grilled cheese sandwich so that’s my current favorite.

favorite animal: all cats little and big (especially tigers and Pallas cats), polar bears, panda bears, capybara, baby goats, and Moo Deng.

what were you like as a child: quiet, social anxiety (“she’s just shy!”), super awkward, huge bookworm, incredibly smart. Bullied. Almost definitely some undiagnosed flavor of neurodivergent. “Other” in many ways. (Is it any wonder that El Hopper is one of my favorite Stranger Things characters?)

favorite subject at school: music, English, science

least favorite subject: math and history

what’s your best character trait: it’s tough to answer stuff like this about yourself! Maybe loyalty? Bravery? The ability to laugh through pain? Making an amazing tiramisu? You choose.

what’s your worst character trait: oh isn’t it funny/sad how nobody has trouble answering this one. Why must we all be so down on ourselves? My worst trait right now is that I refuse to answer this question.

if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be? I WANT MY MIND BACK. I miss the days when I could think clearly without the brain fog, and plan for the future without depression overwhelming me.

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet? my grandparents. I didn’t appreciate them enough when I was little; I’d like to know them now that I’m grown. Also Steve Irwin, because he’s awesome.

No-pressure tags: @justhere4thevibez @erythromanc3r @here-for-the-vibe @hellishchrissy @ladyfluff @krakoansam

GET TO KNOW YOUR MUTUALS ✨

Thank you so much for tagging me @starrybouquet! ❤️

what's the origin of your blog title?

I don’t really have a blog title. 🙈 I should probably give that some thought.

otp(s) + shipname(s):

If we mean “OTP: they can only be happy with each other, no one else could ever possibly fulfill either of them,” then I don’t believe in that. But if we mean “OTP: interesting shippy dynamic but other people could also or alternatively make them happy, no gatekeeping here,” then:

Kathryn Janeway/Tom Paris, J/P

Number One | Una Chin-Riley/Christopher Pike, Pikeone or Pikeuna

Seven of Nine/Anyone I Find Interesting

favorite color:

Green and purple.

song stuck in your head:

Trustfall, P!nk

weirdest habit/trait:

I go to bed super-duper early.

hobbies:

Writing. Exercise. Socializing.

if you work, what's your profession?

My goodness, I do not want to talk about my job on Tumblr dot com.

if you could have any job you wish, what would it be?

That’s complicated.

something you're good at:

Organization.

something you hate:

Violence and people who glorify violence.

something you collect:

N/A

something you forget:

I often forget what I’ve bought through online shopping. Then the box arrives and I’m curious as to what’s in it.

what's your love language:

Conversation.

favorite movie/show:

Saving Mr. Banks

favorite food:

I don’t know.

favorite animal:

I don’t know.

what were you like as a child:

Bookish. Social.

favorite subject at school:

English or civics.

least favorite subject:

Math or science.

what's your best character trait?

When I love, I love with my whole heart.

what's your worst character trait?

Hesitancy to reach out or open up.

if you could change any detail of your life right now, what would it be?

The answer is too complicated to type out.

if you could travel in time, who would you like to meet?

Relatives who passed away before I was born and were deeply meaningful to people I love.

No-pressure tagging: @deadheaddaisy, @grissomesque, @regionalpancake, @procrastinatorproject, @emilie786, @pc-corner, @coffee-in-that-nebula, @elephant-in-the-pride-parade, @cnroth, @fiadorable, @lorcaswhisky, @the-lady-general, @cicaklah, @caladeniablue, @enterprise-come-in, @theredheadedcaptain, and anyone else I forgot to tag. 💞

[maluustrawberry]

Hey did you finish Undesirable Encounter Part 2 Ty 🥰🥰

Undesirable encounter

Part.2 (Claude Frollo X Reader)

A/N: Hi dear, sorry for the delay, I said I would do it hehehe. I wanted to thank you readers for your support and I didn't expect the first part to get so many views (I'm surprised, almost 500 notes) and a lot of people asked me for the sequel so I do. I did it with my best friend @thefanofnotredame, I hope you like it❤️. {If you haven't seen part one, it's here}

°•°•°•°•°°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

It was morning, around 8 or 9 o'clock. You were already awake, but in your room. It was hard to stop thinking about the judge's fateful and unwelcome appearance in your store. As you sat in front of the window in a wooden chair, you sipped a hot drink in front of the only light in your room, which was white and dramatic, melancholy.

What made you think even more about the whole situation was the fact that tonight you were supposed to go to the palace of justice and deliver the damn cloak and pair of gloves to Frollo in person. The whole thing was uncomfortable, almost dark. Just thinking about that man's touch on your hands again... Argh! How horrible. But at the same time, there was something very... peculiar about the look in his eyes from before. That look that touched you - almost literally - with all that malice; it was almost a trap for something that, suddenly, in front of your bedroom window, began to attract you very much, almost like hypnosis.

Realizing that you were already too absorbed in your own thoughts and near delusions, you quickly shook your head and left the window, heading for your closet so you could change your clothes.

At the same time as this was happening, on the other side of town, the judge was in his palace of justice and completely isolated in his office. No guards entered or left where he was. He walked from side to side, looking like he was going to go mad at any moment. He wasn't even wearing his judge's clothes, just a baggy white shirt with brown pants, which stuck to his legs, and black shoes.

The judge seemed troubled by something he couldn't solve. A legal case? Criminals and murderers going wild in the streets of La Cité? No, it was something else. It was a person who kept him awake.

After meeting that seamstress for the first time, he couldn't stop seeing her in his dreams, his morning thoughts or even his everyday actions. He felt that she was following him in everything he did.

How? How could a woman of such a low class, compared to his own, bewitch the man of God? He looked out of the window at the grayish-white light and wondered: How could he, the judge who had humiliated her, look her in the eye again? Was he the one who was being embarrassing or was he the one getting embarrassed by the way the young woman looked? Everything - all those questions drove him crazy. He wanted to isolate himself from all these thoughts, because he knew that God could easily hear them at any time.

Frollo really had to do something about all those feelings. He couldn't get rid of them, either by shouting at the guards or by making a cruel judgment on some criminal. "God, what has this woman done to me?" the man asked himself, distressed and sitting down in the chair in front of his desk in his elegant office.

Suddenly, someone knocked on his door.

“Come in.” The judge answered, giving the person permission to enter his office, putting his arms on the table and placing a hand on his forehead, almost rolling his eyes with hatred.

One of his guards poked his head into the office, spying on the judge for a few seconds and then entering the office completely, closing the door behind him. The guard looked nervous, worried, but maybe it was just the way this place and the judge made him feel:

“Speak up. What happened?” Frollo asked, looking at the guard.

“Sir, we've already dealt with the problem.”

“What problem?” He asked, distracted and staring at the table with old paperwork and a pot of ink with an exaggeratedly large black quill.

“The problem, sir. With that bandit from a few days ago. He confessed that he stole a lot more than we thought, can you believe it? Jewelry, shoes.”

“Yes, and?” He lifted a sheet of paper from the pile, looking at some words. With that answer, the guard was startled.

“...what do you mean, sir?” The guard asked, almost in shock. “We've been trying to get a word out of this thug for days! He's so strong.”

“Are you finished?”

When the judge cut off the guard's speech in such a rude way, he raised his head at him with a very annoyed expression, as if he hadn't wanted to hear a word the young man had said:

“I don't care about this guy anymore. He's given us enough trouble. Throw him with those rabble of prisoners, tramps and criminals! Let's have a trial with him another day.” Rolling his eyes at the papers again, he pulled out one of the sheets and read it. He showed no real interest on it, not a single one, and the guard realized this quickly, frowning downwards.

“Sir, is something wrong?”

“Hm?” He moved his head to look at the guard, totally inattentive and with his mind on something else.

“You seem... I don't know... discouraged? We were too focused on the bandit issue.”

“I just lost interest, I have more important things to worry about.” The judge replied dryly and sighed. “I'll be receiving a seamstress tonight at the palace of justice, stay tuned and let me know if she arrives.”

“Oh, yes, the seamstress... as far as she's concerned, we didn't hear from her this morning. So, just to be on the safe side, we'll check on her later, since the delivery won't be until the evening. What do you think, sir?”

In the blink of an eye, the judge raised his head to look at the guard, almost as fast as a drop. He widened his eyes and almost let his mouth open wider than it should have, just for finally being able to talk about that subject that had only been stuck in his head and that was finally hanging over their conversation. "Oh, what a relief!", thought the older man to himself:

“I think it's very good, lieutenant.” He said, already with a slightly shrewd and debauched expression, arranging his arms on the table and placing an elbow against the surface near the papers, putting a hand under his chin, holding his head. “Well, you remember that she was suspected of helping and harboring those gypsies, don't you?”

“Yes, sir…”

“When you go there, keep an eye out if you happen to see any gypsies in that store. Make sure she's actually doing something good, because I don't want her to cheat me, or even try to.”

“But why would a mere seamstress have bad intentions towards you?”

Suddenly, Frollo cast a very threatening glance at the guard, slowly getting up from his chair and resting his hands on the table:

“You're not thinking of denying my order, are you?”

“B-But, sir, I…”

“Are you?”

The guard, his eyes wide with fear, began to stutter and placed part of his hand against his forehead, making a sign of obedience to an order:

“I'm not, sir!” He spoke, almost fearing for his life and looking up so as not to have his soul ripped out by his eyes.

“Good…” The judge sat down as if it were nothing and looked at the rest of the paperwork. “Go and see the girl and bring me news. I want it to be quick and brief, unless you want to join the bandit in being tortured too.”

“Y-Yes, sir…”

“Oh! You want that?...” The evil man cut the guard off abruptly, mocking his nervousness with an evil smile, while still looking at the papers and the table.

“I-I don't want to, sir, I mean...I...I'm going”

The poor man, practically submissive in his position, left the judge's office in almost the blink of an eye, afraid of being sentenced right there.

Even though the judge delighted in such agony coming from a 'little man' like the one in front of him a few seconds ago, he slowly wiped the smile off his face, because the image of the lady sewing appeared in his mind again. "What a curse, what torture! She must be a witch, that's for sure. That woman can't get out of my head, she's like a needle stuck in my skull!"

And so it went with the man, slowly becoming anguished inside every time he thought of the beautiful seamstress. In the blink of an eye, it was afternoon.

The seamstress kept moving around and always ended up bumping into one place or another, injuring herself on her frames and arms. All this was happening because she was so anxious, even if it was only to make a pair of gloves and a cape. After many restless minutes, you finally sat down to sew:

“Damn judge, damn man... he could ask for these things anywhere else, but no! He wants to torture me, to punish me with his hypocritical, petty, mean 'justice'!” The seamstress complained nervously as she touched up the fingertips of the glove.

Suddenly, you began to feel watched, so you decided to look up and were startled: a guard, not at all discreetly, was watching you through the window pane. It was the usual clumsy man, of course, but the fact that he was - of course - directly sent by Frollo made your blood bubble even more. Since you couldn't take your anger out on the man, you looked down after a few seconds and gritted your teeth with your mouth closed, but with your lips visibly curved, showing that you weren't happy at all.

It also made you a little tense and one of the reasons was that a gypsy woman was hiding with her daughter in the basement of your store, if they came out of there now, that would be it, but on the one hand you were a little relieved that they came before the guard arrived and stared at you at the door. It seems that Frollo knew what you were up to.

The poor woman was fighting against time. As she passed the thread and needle through the fabrics, she didn't realize that it was - almost literally - going by faster than the day. Even with blood, sweat and hatred, she finished her work and let out a great sigh, taking the air into her lungs as if it was the first time she had done this all day.

When you raised your head, to your surprise, it was still late. The sun was still setting and the sky was slowly losing its reddish hue. Ah, that was enough to blow your mind.

“... I can't believe it.” You said, almost without blinking and with a look of disbelief at the situation, looking sideways and putting a hand to your forehead. “My God... how? It can't be!”

Good. Now you had to wait until the evening. Of course, it would be just as bad if you ended things at short notice, but... waiting anxiously for that meeting with the man to happen was torture. Since when are you punished for beating the clock?

“DAMN!” You shouted, groaning in anguish and getting away from your desk to go somewhere else. “If he doesn't ask for me to be picked up with his carriage, he's going to hear some good shit! Sending some little guy to put pressure on me?! Well, how inconsiderate…”

And you kept talking as you paced back and forth as soon as you stood up, but you realized that time wasn't going to go any faster if you kept muttering your discontent. You had to calm down or you'd go mad. The seamstress decided to make herself a cup of tea in an attempt to calm her nerves and read a book so that time would pass more quickly.

*****

Night fell. The streets were dark; along with the curfew that had begun to apply earlier in the day in the city. As expected, no carriages passed your store. Well, what a surprise, huh?

Before the curfew started, the Romani woman and her daughter said they were going out, you insisted that they stay and come back to the Court of Miracles only in the morning, but they didn't want to bother you, so, to be safer, you recommended that they go out the back.

The seamstress was sorting out the judge's gloves and cape. After that, being a vain woman, you meticulously checked in your mirror that you looked good, that your dress fit you well and that your hairstyle was impeccable. Why this excessive concern? You didn't know, you had no idea.

Draping a shawl over your shoulders, you left your store and began the lonely walk to the palace of justice with the package. The cold evening breeze touched your face, the beginning of winter in Paris. Walking through the streets, you could see the stores and markets closing and residents heading for their homes, respecting the curfew while guards stood on every street corner, ready to arrest anyone who was bold enough to break the judge's rule.

Little did the seamstress know that, from afar, Claude Frollo was staring at her from one of the tower windows of his comfortable office, while you had to walk to where the man was. Poor woman, isn't she? Covering herself with a shawl so desperately not to be seen... wait. A shawl? Oh. Oh, my goodness.

When the man realized that you were wearing something to cover your bust and shoulders, he widened his eyes and walked backwards in surprise, but then began to make a serious, fearful expression. His mind started having those thoughts again, those unconscious and absurd thoughts.

With each passing second of waiting, the judge felt as if his self-control was going to fail him at any moment and almost threw himself into the chair behind his desk as he sat down, trapped in his sinful reverie. His body suddenly began to heat up, irritation gradually took hold of him and he regained his composure.

Finally, the girl reached the gates of the Palace of Justice. The guards who were there soon saw her:

“Is this in your hands the order of Judge Claude Frollo?” One of the tall men asked.

“Yes, he said to meet him now.”

“Very good.” He replied.

The men opened the doors of the place and you entered, almost quickly, making the men close the door faster than usual too, with his hands still on the thick iron rods. At that moment, they looked at each other and made a strange expression, with their faces a little closer:

“Is that pretty girl the seamstress?” The guard on the left asked, almost whispering.

“Yes, she's really pretty. But I didn't know that women could run their own business without their husband's supervision.” replied the one on the right, causing the one on the left to make a slightly annoyed expression.

“Yeah... I don't even know if they can, not like that. The crazy judge must have made her do something for him on purpose, just to embarrass her.”

While the men gossiped about the strange situation, you walked around the place with a somewhat cowed look on your face. The place seemed too gloomy to be focused on justice, almost like a gloomy marquis' castle, full of guards and torches in every corner. You looked up and the ceiling was higher than that of any house or mansion, and the colors were too dark to distinguish at that time. The seamstress began to walk faster and arrived at the judge's office. Anger gradually overcame you at the knowledge that you would have to see this man's face again and you regained your posture, taking a deep breath and knocking on the door, then hearing that authoritative, harsh voice you knew all too well saying "Come in"

If it wasn't already clear enough that night fell faster than a stone before, it would be even more so now, precisely because of the moonbeams invading the man's office, his face being the first thing you could see. When you entered the office and closed the large wooden door behind you, you could see the place around you better and even noticed a small fireplace burning in the corner of the room:

“Good evening, sir.” You said seriously, trying not to be nervous, but it was a little obvious, and you couldn't let go of the delivery in your sweat-damp hands.

Frollo simply looked at you without changing his cold expression. After watching you arrive through the window, he quickly changed and put on only his big judge's cloak over his ordinary ones.

“Finally.”

He slowly got up from his chair and put one hand on the table, leaning on it and stepping out from behind it, putting his arms behind him. You put the bag with the delivery on his desk, without looking at his face:

“Since I didn't take your measurements, I ended up using a previous client's size just for a base, but I can correct it if it doesn't fit.”

“Well, but, seamstress…” The judge quickly countered, in a false and mocking tone just to bother you. “How am I supposed to know, or rather feel, that this is the right size? My fingers aren't like any other man's…”

“By putting them on.” You answered in a tone as if you were stating the obvious, your gaze going to him now as you held the long cape.

With that answer, he made an offended expression for a second, but quickly rolled his eyes and closed them, taking a deep breath. As if nothing was wrong, he walked towards her and stood in front of her, looking haughty.

“Be brief. Let's see the package I ordered.”

The woman had to hold back the urge to roll her eyes in disgust at his haughty air of superiority. You showed him the cape, he could see a little of it from the fireplace:

“I made it from the pattern that would look best on you, in my opinion.” The cape seemed to be made of two fabrics, burgundy on the inside and black on the outside.

The man looked closely at the cape, even took it in his hands and brushed his fingers against your for a brief second, coughing in a discreet and slightly embarrassed way, a little electricity and adrenaline coursing through his body at the slightest touch, which, deep down, he craved. He disguised it:

“Not bad. Silk?”

“Yes, sir…” You nodded. “Can you turn around, please?” He was a little suspicious of your request and you held back a sigh. You couldn't believe that you had to explain everything to him. “To see if the size is correct.”

“That's fine.” He said irreverently.

As he turned, Frollo felt the girl's delicate hands brushing against his skin again, but this time on his neck - which made him clench his jaw as he closed his eyes. He didn't know if it was a common agony at being touched by commoners or if it was something beyond his own self-centeredness. And yet, the seamstress had no idea what her touch was doing to him, after all, she was only being professional:

“Is the length good, or would you prefer it shorter?” You asked, breaking the silence.

“It's perfect.” He answered quickly, as if he was going to have a fit.

You then removed your hands from around his neck and shoulders, folding the cloak and placing it on the table. Frollo could still feel the small flaming trail of the girl's hand on his body, which made him miss it a little and yearn for more. When he turned around, the seamstress was taking the black gloves out of the bag and he immediately held out his left hand to you, who found this strange since he could put them on by himself.

"Look at that." you thought a little annoyed as you put the glove on his hand. "He's so inconvenient... how can he be? He wants me to act like his maid, doesn't he? Do you think I'm honored to serve you? Idiot judge..."

“So, sir?” You asked, turning your gaze to his and pretending to look calm “Are you satisfied?”

“With what?” He asked, slightly startled and almost wide-eyed.

“...with the gloves and the cape, sir.” You answered, confused by his reaction and holding your hands together, your arms against your hips in a formal way. You even blinked a little, trying to understand the situation.

“Oh, yes. They're suitable…”

He answered in such a strange way that it only made the seamstress think that he wasn't in the best condition to be seen at that moment, as if he was bothered by your presence or even that he didn't really like your delivery at all. You didn't care, but deep down you were worried about something, you felt bad and it wasn't just because of the energy of the palace of justice or the man in front of you:

“I think it's over here. The value was eight pieces of silver.”

“Before you go, seamstress, I want to clarify a few things...”

Frollo spoke as he moved away from you, going to the door and turning the key in the lock. You watched this action and a shiver ran down your spine, your body frozen with fear and anxiety. By instinct, you took a step backwards and your hips ended up resting on the edge of the table, trapping you:

“Do you think you can outsmart me?” He put his hands together as soon as he closed the door, approaching you but standing at a ‘respectable’ distance.

“What are you talking about?”

“You know very well what I'm talking about, seamstress.” He spoke with hatred in his eyes.

“This Romani business again?” You asked, defensively and looking him up and down in disbelief. He couldn't have found out... “I told you I didn't help anyone and you searched my store.”

The older man didn't hold back his laughter when he saw you insisting on the lie. He had you trapped now, like a fly caught in a spider's web with no way out. He continued:

“You're a brazen viper…”

“Your Honor, despite your position, I will not accept being called that. If you want to have a normal conversation with me, at least be respectful.”

This took him by surprise. He hated that boldness, especially coming from a commoner like you - who had defied him before. His blood boiled with both hatred and lust as he recalled the moment before the first time he had been in your store, remembering how defiant you had been, but also your hands touching at that moment. Out of anger, Frollo stepped closer, taking heavy steps and cornered you, resting his hands on the table on either side of you. Your breath caught in your throat and you opened your eyes wide in fear and surprise:

“You're the one who owes me respect here, and don't change the subject. I sent one of my men to your store and received news that didn't leave me stunned: Two gypsies coming out of the back of your store... what do you have to say about that?”

It shocked you. You've been found out. Fucking guard...

Your heartbeat was racing from the truth being discovered and the proximity of the man, which caused you fear, nervousness and anxiety, leaving your legs weak. Claude laughed a little when he saw her silence and her expression and continued:

“It's a shame to see you lying and risking your life to save that gypsy scum who doesn't deserve such kindness…”

“Get away!” You murmured a little frightened and he didn't move, overwhelmed by hatred and the little lust present.

“Viper sorceress... What do you have to say about it? What's your defense?”

You put your hands on his chest, preventing him from coming any closer. He practically spat those words out of the hatred he felt for being tricked. With your movement, the shawl on your shoulders came down a little, the judge's heart pounded and he swallowed dry at the sight in front of him. As frightened as you were, you noticed that look on yout shoulders and that expression of disgust, but at the same time so lascivious... Then you realized something in his previous words that made you confused:

“Sorceress? Why are you accusing me of witchcraft? What evidence do you have against that?” You asked in a defiant and angry tone.

“There's no point in denying your crimes!”

“I'm not denying it, I'm not denying that I lied! And yes, I tried to save those Romanis, but I won't accept false accusations of witchcraft... What proof do you have against me? Tell me!”

The man froze. He just stared at you as if you were something that frightened him, or even something that he just wanted to touch. He looked as if he was going to pounce on the seamstress at any moment, as if she were prey. That animalistic feeling grew inside him even more under the moonlight and the light of the fireplace, the two of them staring at each other as if any false move would end in disaster.

Suddenly, the judge looked down in a reflective manner, his gaze almost trembling, while the sound of the wood burning became deafening and the flame that burned it seemed to be less warm than the sensation they both felt in their bodies, heating them up with adrenaline. He muttered something, but you couldn't hear it, which annoyed you a little and you asked seriously:

“What did you say? Speak loud and clear, what have you got against me?!”

“You've bewitched me!” He vociferated with hatred in his voice, and continued. “You've made me, a man of God, desire you as you've never desired anyone. The love of a convict!”

You were both silent for a few seconds, weighed down by the weight of your emotions, you stunned and he foolish:

“I don't know what kind of witchcraft you've done, seamstress, but you're driving me crazy. I've been thinking about you from the moment I laid eyes on you... and your shoulders... and your hands...” He turned a little to the side, looking at his hands gleaming in the firelight. “... So lacking in discipline and obedience, so blatantly... How could that attract me? It felt like a thousand demons were attacking me, with visions of a woman flashing through my mind and my eyes, and this woman… was you.”

He looked at the reddish fire in the fireplace with a little difficulty, intense. A reflection of his repressed emotions being exposed, in the midst of a chaos that could no longer be controlled. You were in shock. A shock so tremendous that you were speechless at such accusations, your heart racing like the judge in front of you, you felt hatred, but also pity... why?

You came out of your thoughts when you felt his hand in contact with yours that was resting on the table, squeezing it as if you were some kind of possession of his and his thumb caressing the back of your hand:

“But I can forgive you for this crime and pretend that nothing happened…”

He whispered close to your ear, his warm breath in contact with your neck making you shiver. Because he was so close, Frollo could smell the perfume on your neck. You asked, challenging him:

“And who are you to think that your forgiveness is so important to me? God, by any chance?”

With that answer, anger took over the judge's body and he gripped your chin tightly, forcing you to look at him, who had fire in his eyes. His fingers squeezed your cheeks:

“I swear to God, I'm going to break your arrogance, woman.”

Unexpectedly, you were surprised by a kiss on the lips before you could say anything else. Your eyes widened at the unexpected action and you tried to pull away, but he wouldn't budge; on the contrary, he pushed you harder against the table. You hated yourself for the next move…

In a second, you closed your eyes and returned the judge's kiss. Even though it was a rough, hateful kiss, it intensified, bringing out a confusing mixture of sensations. Frollo's hand, which was on your chin, slid down your face until it reached your neck, squeezing lightly, but not enough to suffocate you, so that a moan came from you. He took advantage of this moment to enter your mouth with his tongue, exploring it. An uncontrollable and overwhelming desire dominated them both, and they didn't care about anything else at that moment.

You broke off the kiss to catch your breath. You were confused by what had just happened and Frollo stared at every part of your face; your eyes, your slightly rosy cheeks and your beautiful expression... Frollo's hand didn't leave your neck, as if he wanted to show some kind of dominance there.

The two of you get closer and closer again, as if you were hypnotized and surrendering to lust to start another kiss. A sudden noise comes from the office door, which causes the judge to quickly let go of the woman and move away, pretending nothing has happened and his stern demeanor returning, but still with suspicion and desire present:

“Come in.” he allowed, before clearing his throat. And you quickly recovered before the door opened, straightening the skirt of your dress and draping your shawl over your shoulder.

The door opened to reveal the guard, who, upon entering, hesitated slightly as he realized that he didn't seem welcome at the moment. Even so, he insisted on saying something:

“Hello, sir… and miss.” Said the man, confused. “Am I in the way?”

“Be brief…” Frollo sighed and ran a hand through his gray hair.

The soldier looked at them both briefly with trepidation and decided to look away, trying to avoid the tension in the air.

“Well, er…” Before continuing, he coughed “I just wanted to ask your permission to start training this afternoon because we've been waiting and…”

He started babbling on about it, as well as being brief as he ordered, which irritated the judge, an irritation visible in his eyes. Frollo just nodded as if he didn't care and also seemed anxious for the guard to finish once and for all and leave. You just wanted to get rid of this embarrassing situation, you were afraid that the guard would suspect what was going on between the two of you and you wanted to get back to your store before you caused any more trouble:

“Well, since we've finished our conversation, I think I should go. Goodbye, gentlemen.” You said, bowing slightly as a gesture of respect and farewell.

Frollo was surprised by what you said and then raised his face with a different expression, as if he actually wanted you to stay, but you quickly fled the men's sight and left the judge's office, passing through the corridors that led to the exit of the palace.

As you walked down the street to your house, you were still thinking about what had just happened. You soon arrived at the store and quickly locked the door, as if you were being chased by someone, then leaned your back against the wall and brought your hand up to your lips. You'd just kissed the cruelest judge in Paris, you'd just kissed the man you hated and you'd fallen for your own hypocrisy.

Both went against their own laws. Both went against their own character. Both felt that everything was about to turn upside down. On the one hand, a judge on the verge of a moral collapse, on the other, a seamstress trapped in mortal doubt. The ending is almost as clear as glass: Grandiose changes and a drama that could end in either blood or something unacceptable to French society.

End...

[lostbetweenvampiresandmusic]

I'd love to request something then 🥰. A David & Dwayne x fem!reader. She lives alone in Santa Carla after escaping her family and she has a hard time adjusting, bc she's introvert and insecure about herself (chubby, scars due to abusive and SH past etc etc). The boys are attracted to, her darkness if that makes sense (I hope it's fine!!). The boys wanna take her it with them, & David & Dwayne eventually realizing she's their mate? (fluff is fine, even a bit more if you're fine with that!)

I hope you like this! After finishing this, I realise I kind of strayed away from your prompt, but I hope you'll still enjoy it!💜

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

The room was quiet. Dark. Cold. I sighed as I turned around in my bed, pulling the blankets over me again. Tomorrow I'd really have to call the water company and the electrician. I had bought this place on a whim, needing to have something to call my own, and I hadn't paid any attention to the details mentioned in the listing.

I wish I had now, now that I felt like my toes were freezing off. Still, I thought as I curled up in myself, it was still not as bad as it was before.

It was hours later when I woke up, the sun high in the sky already. I sighed, grabbing a warm sweater and some thick socks to keep myself warm. I quickly brushed my teeth, deciding to ignore breakfast until after I made the necessary phone calls. I took a deep breath as I walked to the landline, thankful that that one was, in fact, working. Silently, I repeated the rehearsed frases in my head.

"Hi, do I speak with the company? I need some help, because the thing isn't working in my new house."

It would be something like that, I figured. Nothing too complicated. Just two easy sentences. I could do this. I picked up the phone, dialling the number for the watercompany. It rang.

Once. Twice.

Please leave a message after -

Frustrated, I dropped the horn on its hook, redialing the number. This time, I had more luck getting an answer.

"Yeah?"

"You're the watercompany, right?" I asked, my voice more unsure than I would have liked.

"Yeah."

"My house isn't connected, it seems. Can that like - maybe, I don't know, ehm - be fixed? I mean," I laughed, although it was more out of awkwardness and despair than out of actual joy, "I'd really like to have some water here."

"Yeah."

I sighed, giving more of my information. All the guy on the phone said was yeah, as if he had never learnt to speak another word whatsoever. Still, I had been told that someone would be by this afternoon. I then rang the electrician, who was way more pleasant on the phone. He was in the area, offering to come by within the hour.

I'd agreed readily.

The electrician, Henry, a man who reminded me of my late grandfather, was done quickly. It had been a matter of some cables not connecting well, and now I was the proud owner of a house with a working light bulb. Small victories, and all that.

"So, what made you decide to move to the murder capital of the world?"

"I needed a fresh start - wait, did you say murder capital?" I asked with a frown as I walked him to the door.

He nodded. "Lots of people end up missing or dead. We don't know why, but it happens. Hence the name."

"Crap... that's why the house was so cheep."

"Maybe," the man chuckled, "but despite there being some truths to the disappearances, I doubt you'd be in any danger. You don't seem like a party animal to me."

I nodded. "So, as long as I stay clear from parties I'd be fine?"

"Most likely, yeah. Anyways, don't stress about it too much. You're young, go to the boardwalk some time, and enjoy yourself."

He had been gone for less than ten minutes, or some guy from the watercompany rang the doorbell, and went to work without saying much to me.

It was hours later when he was done, but I had water. And electricity. I could cook, shower, bathe - I sighed as I let myself fall on the couch, I was too tired to do any of those things. There had been too many people today, and I just needed some desperate alone time just for me. I was really thankful now that I'd bought some frozen pizzas on my way here, and as I turned the oven on, I couldn't help but wonder if moving here, leaving home and all it's miseries behind, if it was worth it.

"Someone moved into the old Emerson place," Paul stated as he entered the cave. He had a plastic bag in his hand, and couple of boxes with Chinese filling it.

"So?" David looked at him.

"Just thought you should know," he shrugged. It didn't matter much, but every since that night, a couple of years ago, they avoided that area of town as much as they could.

"As long as they don't go digging in the backyard, we have nothing to worry about, " Dwayne shrugged.

"She doesn't seem the type."

"You stayed long enough to stalk her?" Marko chuckled, shaking his head.

Paul threw a carton box towards him, grinning as it hit his head. "Nope, I just don't think that this quiet thing would go outside."

I woke up late the next day. I had only been here for a few days, and I had not once woken up before noon. Before, I always awoke around six thirty, doing my chores and other things that needed to be done. Never, not ever, had I been able to sleep in. So why was I able to now?

Was it because I finally had a place of my own? I finally experienced freedom? Or was i getting sick?

I shook my head, taking a deep breath as I got up. Today, I needed to make a trip to the boardwalk. I needed some paints for my rooms, and maybe it would be good for me to actually leave the house for once. Not that I necessarily liked the idea, but I also knew that interacting with others would be good. If only for a little while.

I spent the rest of the day getting ready. I picked some loose-fitting clothing, warm enough for the autumn breeze that was blowing coldly over Santa Carla. I pulled on some black leather boots, brushing my hair quickly as I decided to forgo any makeup for today. This wasn't going to be a long trip.

It was nearing sunset as I entered the boardwalk, the place more crowded than I would have liked. People were everywhere, pushing and moving, tugging others along. I had no choice but to let myself drift along with the crowd, slowly making my way away from the stream when I saw a small hardware store located near what seemed to be a videostore.

I was thankful to no longer be stuck in the crowd and pushed the door to the store open, right into someone's face. I froze, staring wide-eyed at the man in front of me. He was tall, an almost scary look on his face as he looked at me, his brunet hair falling down his face.

"I- I am so sorry, I didn't-"

He looked at me, causing me to feel flustered. He truly was rather handsome. Too handsome for me, I knew that. But still, one can dream, right?

"It's fine," he said, his voice deeper than I'd expected. I looked after him as he left, shaking my head slightly as I tried to remove his image from my brain. I quickly picked some paints - a dark blue and ocher yellow, a colourmatch I'd loved for ages - and paid for them. I left the store, walking down the boardwalk to the entrance.

It was getting busier and I just wanted to go home. I walked further, the plastic bag with paint cans in my hands as I heard the rumbling engine of a motorcycle behind me.

"You need a ride?"

I looked up and saw that it was the guy I'd run into in the hardware store.

"It's alright," I said quietly, not sure if he heard me.

"You sure? There are not too many houses around here, and it's not a good idea to be out alone in the dark."

I shook my head, remembering how former classmates repeatedly reassured me that I didn't have to worry about that because kidnappers and rapists would pick someone prettier. Assholes that they were. I sighed, looking at the guy.

"Why would you offer me a ride?"

He shrugged. "Why not? Besides, it's already getting late, and I imagine you'd rather be home before morning."

I looked at my watch and realised he was right. "Thank you," I said gratefully as I got on the back of his bike with his assistance. I introduced myself, but he didn't respond with his name. Instead he drove off, straight to my home.

"How do you know where I live?" I asked him confused as I got off.

"This was the only house for sale in the last couple of weeks. And since you're new-"

"Am I that obvious?"

"No," he gave me a small smile, "we just come down to the boardwalk almost daily. We know everyone's faces, just not yours. Not yet."

"Maybe you will," I said quietly, quietly wondering what it was that made me say this. As if I'd ever go back to the boardwalk while it was so busy at night.

"I'll see you around, love," he said, stepping back on his bike.

"Wait, what's you're name?"

"I'm Dwayne."

With that he drove off.

"And?" David looked at Dwayne as he entered the cave last.

"She's sweet. Harmless." He couldn't help but grin. "There's something about her."

"Yeah?"

"She's not just another run away. There's something more. Like she's seen things that she shouldn't have."

David nodded. "You think it is her?"

Dwayne thought about it. For days, the two of them had felt the pull of a third and final mate bond. The bond was forming quickly and steadily, and soon, they'd be able to follow their gut feeling towards their mate. But for now? Dwayne nodded.

"She seemed more level-headed than us, but I am quite certain she can live like we do."

"Maybe I'll meet her tomorrow," David shrugged, standing up. "If i come to the same conclusion as you, we'll need to make her ours."

I groaned as I opened my fridge. All day, I had been working on painting my room, forgetting the necessity of making a trip to the grocery store. Now it was night, I had yet to eat dinner, and all I had in my fridge was an old bottle of coke.

"Guess I'll go to the boardwalk..." I mumbled, taking my paint spattered clothes of and quickly changing into something clean. I didn't stop to look in the mirror before I went, a thing I would regret later on, I'm certain. At that moment, it didn't matter. I needed food, and the only place I was going to get that at this hour was the boardwalk.

It took me about an hour to get there, and I had just enough luck on my side that the Chinese place was still open and serving as I entered. I greeted the owner, placed my order, and sat down on a bench, waiting for my order to be called.

"So you've been painting all day, hm?" I looked up, seeing two men in front of me. Dwayne and some other guy.

"How did you know?" I frowned slightly.

"You've got a blue streak on your cheek."

I tried to stand up to go to the bathroom to clean myself up, but found myself unable to do so as the guy went to sit down next to me. I shoved over a bit, feeling just the slightest hint uncomfortable.

"How do you like Santa Carla?"

"I don't know, it's okay, I guess?" I shrugged.

"You haven't had a chance to see it?" Dwayne asked. I shook my head.

"I've got a lot to do at home, and-" I shook my head. It didn't matter.

"And what?" The other guy, who had yet to introduce himself, looked at me.

"I just don't like crowds," I decided quickly before asking his name.

"David," he said, "and what if we can over you Santa Carla without the crowds?"

"Good luck with that," I muttered, sceptical. As if that was ever going to happen.

"No, you'll see," Dwayne chuckled, "David's right. How about we pick you up tomorrow and show you around?"

I was quiet for a moment, before nodding. "What time?"

"Ten. Things will have quieted down here."

Time passed quickly, and as I woke up the next afternoon, I couldn't help but wonder why i had agreed to this date. I had liked the conversation we'd had, sure. But to go on a date? Later that evening, David had even explicitly called it that, and I hadn't even corrected him. And then a date with the two of them?

I didn't mind that, truly, they were both incredibly handsome and as far as I could tell with how little I know them, kind and somewhat sweet - but still. It was a bit, odd, wasn't it?

The rest of the day, I worked on decorating my house, making sure I was ready to go by ten. I'd opted to wear a dress, liking the way it flowed around my legs. Despite the warmth of the evening, I decided to wear a black cardigan on top, completing my outfit.

"Damn," Dwayne grinned as he saw me, causing me to smile shyly. David stood behind him, waiting on his bike.

"You look nice," he said as he offered me a seat. I got on behind him, and we made our way to the boardwalk.

Just as he had promised, like they'd both promised, the boardwalk was practically empty tonight. I didn't know how they'd done it, but it felt incredible. No crowds to drown in, no people pulling you one way when you wanted to go another... I let the two of them guide me over the boardwalk, taking me on rides. We talked about everything, from favourite colours to deepest fears, from hobbies to pet peeves - it was incredible to get to know them, to see them and to let them get to know me.

Even though I had only known Dwayne for three days and David for two, I felt like I had known them all my life, like they were a missing piece of the puzzle I called myself.

As they said goodbye when it was close to sunrise, I couldn't help but melt in their arms as they both pressed a soft kiss on my cheek.

Yeah, I decided quietly. This was it.

In the days that followed, I kept hanging out with them. They'd stop by sometime during the night, taking me to the boardwalk whenever most of the crowds had left. I had met their friends, Paul and Marko, and I had a hard time admitting to myself that I actually enjoyed their company.

I had known them for a month when they took me to their place, this strange yet almost magical cave. It was there that they told me what they were.

I hadn't known what to do, so I hadn't done anything. It was a horrifying thought, but then again, a part of me truly loved them. A part of me couldn't live without them. So, despite refusing to drink and become one of them, I did accept them.

It just took me a day or two. Three.

But once I did accept it, our bond grew only stronger. No longer could I imagine not spending the night with them. No longer could I stand the thought of not seeing them. I stayed over at their place, sleeping between them almost as often as they stayed at mine. We talked, more deeply than before, them answering as honest as they could when I asked them about their immortality.

It was then, five weeks after I learnt what they were, three months after I met them, that i decided to become like them. I was theirs, and I couldn't live with the thought of letting them wake up one day without me. Nor did I want to wake up without them.

So, when David offered once again, I drank, sealing my fate as their mate.

[hazyange1s]

WIP Tag Game

Thank you for tagging me @myokk 🥰🥰 your writing ashdjdns I need that one shot asap

Currently, writing is an uphill battle for me 😭 this is the longest I’ve gone without being able to find any sort of ~ flow ~ but we’re trying to power through lmao

unsure of everyone who’s been tagged already so sorry if you have! @ps-cactus @morelikeravenbore @galaxiasgreen @writingsoftarnishedsilver

some very expected angst from part 2 of enshrouded (I posted the first part in the SUMMER good lord) — warning for suggestive dialogue:

His expression betrayed pain, thick brows furrowing as he swiped at the rain trickling into his eyes. “Can you really tell me that you didn’t wonder, even for a moment? That not a single part of you recognized me in any way?”

No reply came. She opened and closed her mouth, tasting bitter rain as her teeth worried at the kiss-swollen flesh of her lower lip.

Now that she was thinking about it…the signs were there: his dancing, his toast; as they’d done many times in their Hogwarts days at the Three Broomsticks, the cologne he still seemed to favor.

Even (and especially) his eyes, which had always spoken more than words could express alone, and the way he moved when they were —

It seemed old habits really did die hard.

”I wish I had realized sooner. Then we both wouldn’t have wasted a perfectly good night.”

Sebastian smiled in that lopsided way of his, like a cat that got the cream. “I’d hardly say it went to waste. You always did enjoy yourself when we were together, and… well, it seems i haven’t lost my touch.”

“I — you —“ she sputtered. “You certainly haven’t lost your touch for mucking everything up, either.”

That wiped the grin off of his stupid, smug face. Sebastian sighed, watching a carriage roll over the uneven street as a streak of lightning illuminated the crease he’d earned between his brows over the years. “So, that’s it, then? Three years apart and a night in bed together haven’t softened your heart towards me?”

If anything, it had only hardened.

Her throat constricted, and her answer came out choked and pathetic and wrong. “Where you’re concerned, I’m not sure I have a heart anymore.”

And to prove it, she stood several steps backwards, turned on her heel, and Disapparated on the spot with a soft crack that echoed through the desolate streets.

And now we check in with Incendiary Seb, who is — coincidentally — also not having a good time. I might change this chapter completely idek 😩

Sebastian had a plan. Several, in fact — although they were less carefully constructed strategies and more spur of the moment strokes of madness.

Plan A was to slip Veritaserum in the wine and pumpkin juice from the kitchens, but he crossed that off the list upon realizing he could hardly interrogate everyone in the Hall at once.

Plan B: find one of the remaining Ashwinder hideouts and interrogate them. He really hoped he wouldn’t have to resort to this one, as he rather preferred his head attached to his body, so —

Plan C brought him to Ominis.

“I have a question,” he caught up to the blonde on their way to Defense class.

“I probably have an answer, but that doesn’t mean I’ll give it to you.” Ominis snipped.

Sebastian barreled on anyway, speaking in hushed tones. “Your family knows people. Do they know, say, any… mercenaries? Assassins? Private investigators willing to get their hands dirty, even?”

Ominis’s lip curled up into a sneer. He stopped in his tracks, nearly causing Sebastian to run right into him.

“I’m going to walk away now and pretend you never said that.”

In all fairness, asking Ominis to be accessory-adjacent to another murder probably hadn’t been his best idea, either. But as the days grew shorter, so did Sebastian’s limited patience as November hurried on, each X on his calendar a reminder of the looming deadline.

Eventually, his ideas ran out, and Plan B it was. In the encyclopedia of Sebastian’s Dumbest Decisions Ever Made, this one might be in the top three — and that was saying something.

[fandom-oneshots-etc]

Hi there! Did I hear you say that requests are open for Kol Mikaelson? Yes? Excellent! (You have made a mistake in giving me this power.)

Okay, I've been thinking about this for a while, so would you be willing to do a Kol x ghost!reader fic? I was thinking it could take place after Kol comes back from the dead in NOLA and he starts seeing this girl hanging around the compound - a girl no one else can see. He and this ghost become really close friends but she doesn't remember anything about her life or death - just that she's dead and can't leave the compound. But over time she begins remembering and realizes that her new best friend is the one who killed her in the first place....

I know that's really specific but you can decide the rest and I can't wait to see what you make of this idea 🥰 Thank you so much, lovely!!!

🍄 Pairing: Kol Mikaelson x Reader

🍄 Genre: Fluff/light angst

🍄 Summary: Since returning from the dead, Kol had wanted to live his life to the fullest. The last thing he planned was to have a dead stalker.

🍄 Word Count: 1783

🍄 Abbreviations: N/A

🍄 Warnings: Death, blood, mentions of murder, a little Twilight bashing

🍄 Note: Thank you for this request @fitzs-trained-monkey! I really enjoyed writing this. Sorry it took so long, this was such a great request I wanted to make sure I did it justice. I intend on making 1 or 2 more parts to this to build a mini series soon! Hope you enjoy! 😊

Kol had seen you twice before he knew who you were.

The first had been a few days after Davina had successfully returned him to his original body. You had been hovering outside the Compound, watching. At first, Kol had assumed you were some kind of spy. It certainly wouldn’t be the first time someone had been sent to gather intel on his family and report back to aid in some plan for their demise. But then he had caught sight of your attire. The front of your clothing was caked in the thick red liquid he and his family had come to crave, yet he couldn’t smell a thing. He had started to follow you but you had slipped down a short and narrow street and merged amongst the many tourists, disappearing from sight and unable to track you, Kol hadn’t given it another thought.

The second time had been during one of the extravagant parties his brother Niklaus had decided to throw. It was just after midnight and despite the glorious variety of alcohol and women available, Kol was bored. Elijah had been droning on about something, but Kol wasn’t too sure what they were talking about anymore, but one thing he did know was that he wasn’t interested in anything his brother had to say. Elijah’s words seemed to skim over his head as he stared aimlessly at the people below. The noble Elijah could be so boring. Kol was mentally planning his escape route when you caught his eye from the balcony. You were dressed in the same clothes as before and you were still completely caked in blood. In a split second, Kol had placed his drink precariously on the edge of the balcony railing and took off in your direction, weaving his way through the crowded bodies. Kol had been aware of Elijah’s presence behind him, but still he followed you, determined to find out who you were. As he and Elijah stormed through the doorway you had passed through, you stood still opposite, eyes wide having been caught red-handed.

“Who are you?” Kol demanded. Silence only greeted him as your lips parted in shock.

“Kol, who are you talking to?” Kol flashed his brother an annoyed glance.

“Her-“ He flicked his head around to see you still stood there frozen. “I’ve seen her twice now!”

“Kol,” his brother spoke slowly, as you offered a small smile and an awkward wave. “There’s no one here.”

And now here he was, sat in the armchair he had bought for his room, book in hand. He didn’t flinch as he heard your breathing by his ear, his eyes remaining focused on the lines of words. It was one of the things about Kol that no one could’ve guessed, him being a reader. Since his return from the dead he had spent the majority of his time, when he wasn’t bothering his brothers that is, catching up on all of the literature he had missed in the years he had been in that blasted coffin. When he had been awoken by the Salvatore brothers, he barely had the time to read given his murderous mother and then the orders that Niklaus had tasked him with in regards to Jeremy Gilbert. But now he had the time.

He lifted a hand from the arm of the chair and flipped the page, he scanned the last few lines of the chapter then slipped in a bookmark and closed the book.

“I don’t understand the appeal myself,” Kol explained as he flipped the book in his hands, glancing across the cover. “Edward seem’s like a right twat.”

“Right!” you gasped, finally glad that someone could see the true colours of the fictional vampire. “He’s so controlling and manipulative, you see that as you move on through the books. But I mean the total disregard for his family’s safety,” Kol nodded along. “And don’t even get me started on Bella. you’s so bland, I mean seriously? I mean I get what Stephenie Meyer was trying to do make her like the average girl, but there’s average and then there’s boring, stale even,” Kol didn’t dare speak as you rambled on, a sprinkle of glittery stars appearing in your eyes as you continued to express your distaste for the bland character.

It was extraordinary - you were extraordinary.

You couldn’t remember a thing about your living life. Not your family, friends, not where you lived, anything you had done. The furthest you and Kol had gotten was a name, although it had taken the pair of you a few hours and a few dozen phone books to come up with that. There were a few (y/n)’s in the phone book of New Orleans that had been circulated just a few months ago, but even then you couldn’t identify which of the (y/n)’s you were. But now you had a name. Kol could no longer just refer to you as ‘the dead stalker’, which after a few weeks had become less of an insult and more of a term of endearment.

You couldn’t remember anything about your life, but you could remember intense feelings, like these feelings about Bella and Edward from Twilight. You also had had intense feelings about Kol’s relationships with his siblings that were still shaky and that had led Kol to the assumption that family was an important thing to you when you were alive.

“Oh, I’m rambling, sorry…” Kol was certain he could see a blush beginning to flush your cheeks as you dropped your gaze to the book cover, avoiding his eyes.

“No, please, don’t be sorry, darling,” He grinned. “How could I ever tire of your sweet voice?” Kol knew exactly what he was doing. Since he had first realized how shy you could be, he had been doing everything in his power to make you blush like the delicate rose that you were and every time so far, he had succeeded.

“And who’s sweet voice would that be, brother?” Niklaus’ words shattered the peaceful comfort that had settled in the room and Kol’s grin dipped slightly.

“Well yours of course, Niklaus, who else?” Kol flickered his eyes to you as you giggled into your hand, not that his brothers could hear you. Elijah stepped further into the room whilst Niklaus stayed situated at the door, resting against the frame with his arms crossed over his chest a slight grimace on his lips.

Elijah was more suspicious than his counterpart, Kol could tell. It was the way his eyes flickered around every inch of the room, searching for any intruder that could be hiding. Which only made it all the more amusing to Kol that Elijah would never find the intruder, you.

“Is there a reason you interrupted my reading time, or did you just wish to throw my afternoon plans out of the window?” In a split second, Niklaus had sped past Kol and grabbed the book from his hands, flipping it in his own to read the cover.

“The sparkly vampires. Really Kol?”

“A friend recommended it,” Kol defended as he sped past Niklaus to take the book back and rested it on the small side table by the chair. He watched out the corner of his eye as you slipped down from the arm of the chair and sat comfortably, your legs thrown over one of the arms and your back rested against the other.

“You have friends-?”

“I think we’re getting a bit off track here, Niklaus,” Elijah interrupted before Kol could snark back at their brother. “We came here to politely ask that you stop terrorizing the women at the local library,” Elijah ran his fingers along the spines on the bookcase wall. “It’s come to our attention from the Human faction that you’ve been spending a lot of time at the library talking with the women, one in particular being the daughter of the new Faction leader, Ottilie Landry. As you can imagine, he is hardly pleased knowing that you have been hovering around her.”

“I haven’t been terrorizing anyone,” Kol spoke firmly, all signs of amusement drained from his features leaving a displeased anger in it’s place. “Yes, I went down to the library. And yes, I asked the lovely ladies working there for their help, but I have not upset anyone. I did not threaten nor compel anyone.”

“Then why would they do as you asked?” Niklaus questioned, not bothering to hide the accusatory tone that slipped from his tongue.

“I simply asked brother. Not all of us are so feral that we’ve forgotten how to interact with others.” The slight twitch of Niklaus’ eyes was enough for Kol to know that he had successfully tapped a nerve. Elijah must’ve noticed too as he quickly carried on.

“What is it you’ve asked them to do, Kol? What could you possibly want with the library staff? You know the rules on feeding on the locals-”

“Of course,” Kol scoffed. “If I’m involved it must mean I’m up to something sinister. I must be out to destroy the city that you build whilst I was tucked away in that retched box,” his voice heightened as the underlying anger began to boil. “God forbid, I wish to live here peacefully like the rest of you. I must be up to something. Well, no, Elijah. I did not plan on feeding from the locals. I simply asked them to look through the old archives for some information I wanted to find. Is that sinister enough for you?”

A silence filled the air and despite Kol’s simmering anger, neither of his brothers seemed to care for his words, although Elijah did have the decency to look a little uncomfortable but it disappeared in a split second.

“I’m sure you’re expecting me to take off and massacre half of New Orleans in a fit of rage. Anything that would excuse you shoving one of those bloody daggers into my chest for another few centuries, right?” Kol scoffed. “But lucky for you brothers, I’ve grown up and changed my toxic ways,” His phone vibrated against the side of his leg in his jeans pocket and he slipped it out just enough to glance at the screen briefly. “It’s just a shame you haven’t done the same.”

Kol made his way out of the room, knowing that you were following close behind. He began to make his way to the entrance of the compound, not stopping till he was just out of sight of his brothers before he held his phone screen up to show you the text that had come through.

‘I found something. Tilly.’

[yinwaryuri]

Random QL Superlatives 2024

Got tagged by @baseballmomlesbiandad and yeah, I definitely have been wanting to do one of these, so let's do it before the year is out!

There were so many shows that happened this year, I literally had to make a list by scrolling through mass post editor to see what I had watched. I cannot keep time straight (or my watching habits lol)

Favorite New BL Pairing

TopMick

I think several people can agree with me, they swooped into this last quarter totally unknown and Every You, Every Me stole all of our hearts. As SunDol, PinFirst, XNamping, BlueSian, and PunInn???? All of those???? And both of them dealt with different flavors of queer men (and gender expression) so well. I would gladly be a third for XNamping or BlueSian in the fic of my dreams - I was drooling over each of them (BlueSian, you horny bitches, you made me feral like nothing else 🥵🫣). Namping especially, baby, you live in my heart forever. Honorable mention to Fiat Patchata, boy I've missed you! The Gifted lover in me will always miss my son Korn and Fiat was fantastic as him, and I loved seeing his characters here too.

Fave Guy Who Was In Everything

Title Kirati

I only watched Wandee Goodday, Kidnap The Series, and Pluto The Series with him in it, but he also was in We Are, Ploy's Yearbook, and Perfect 10 Liners. His 2024 schedule was booked! And for good reason. He's showing a fair amount of versatility and I have enjoyed every character he's gotten to play so far. I chose Blue to show though, because as someone on the ace spectrum, his character being an understanding partner to an asexual character meant so much to me. Plakao deserved it, and we were not disappointed.

Top-tier Crossdressing

P'Jessy/Jessie

The MomentTM, Miss Thang, Star of the Year, my pookie, sweetheart #1!!!!!!!!! We need her back. Just one chance???? I am blushing and giggling so hard as I write this asdlfkjclbndfldkfsdljd 🥰❤️💕😘😍💞💖💘

Most Comforting Watches

1000 Years Old/Monster Next Door

WeTV really put out some of the cutest couples (Caged Again is getting everyone on board hehe) and both PunYoh and GodDiew are so special to me. Let's give it up for the weakest vampire Pun and his collection of umbrellas, and his enduring love for Yoh, a silly boy obsessed with aliens. Big win for autism. Meanwhile, we have one of the sweetest romances by way of God and Diew learning how to communicate with each other and enjoy who the other person is despite vast differences in their personalities. Save that turtle though.

Best to Worst Grandma Awards

Jack's Ama - Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart/ Ai-Oon and Oab-Oom's Yaai - Pluto The Series

Ama - I wish she'd adopt me. She is so understanding, hard-working, patient, supportive, and badass. A few months with her and my life would be sorted. And I'd do anything for her in return.

Yaai - Waste of a caretaker. It took me so long to even find a gif. I'm sending you back to the Laws of Attraction universe where you support your puppy dog grandson and his insane lawyer boyfriend, and play dress-up with Silvy Pavida Maya.

Gift Show of the Year

Meet You At The Blossom

UNCENSORED CHINESE BL IS OFFICIALLY IN!!!!! Boy was this whole thing fun. The hype beforehand, seeing the censors attempt to make it flop and getting the opposite effect, and getting one of the most unhinged shows for our viewing pleasure. Mercenary malewife x jingle bells for braincells, collarbones and torture, aphrodisiac sex, toxic yaoi, murder and betrayal, several kisses, and a happy ending!!!!! Sign me the fuck up a million times. Personal thanks to @guzhufuren for doing all the PR, where is your paycheck?

Unexpected Topic of the Year: Euthanasia

Spare Me Your Mercy/Every You, Every Me (implied)

I'm not here to really discuss the subject itself or which show did a better job with it, especially since Every You, Every Me left that factor up to interpretation (I'm including it anyway, even if it wasn't intended). What I appreciated in both shows was the empathy they showed toward the people whose conditions toward the end of their lives left them wanting to choose for themselves how things would end, and they showed loved ones around them supporting their decisions. I'm not an older queer who was around for most things regarding the HIV/AIDS pandemic, but the use of queer characters for these stories does hit a particular chord in regards to how important respecting the choices of the dying and their supporting circle should be.

Lookalikes?

Toh - Secret Crush On You/Kluer - This Love Has No Long Beans

Seng and Aon should do a show together as brothers. I am constantly on my actors-who-should-play-brothers agenda (ask @thisautistic), and they're on it. I could've added a lot more here, but I'm currently watching Secret Crush On You for the first time and immediately went 🫵 when I saw Toh. Also both of these boys are so precious to me.

Prettiest Mindfuck

Uranus 2324

I waited to receive this film for months and months and months after it was announced and then released and boy did I RECEIVE. FreenBecky really get to show off their chops in this. I loved how it straddled the line between sci-fi and psychological thriller on top of the sapphic romance. Kath and Lin are both fantastic characters in every single storyline. I especially enjoyed the part where they have guns with a bonus of Lin getting a knife. When do they get their action gl?

My wishes for 2025 in no particular order:

GIVE MEN MORE LONG HAIR. Namping and Sian were fantastic, Top Piyawat really gave us so much. I also found out that Sailub Hemmawich used to have long hair and I am so upset it's short now!!!!

More butches in GLs. Short-haired ones even. Jeab Lalana, thank you for existing; I am so excited for 3 Minutes 2 Love.

Give Papang a lead BL role! I'm going to apologize to all the PapangPodd girlies now, while it's great that they're a secondary couple, I just wanna finish the business he had with Pepper Phanuroj in Dangerous Romance. Pepper deserves a lead BL role as well! I'm excited with whatever is going on between him and JJ Chayakorn in The Heart Killers, and hell JJ can join Papang and Pepper. If GMMTV can come through on more polyamory like they're hinting at in Pluto, then we should have this. PapangPepperJJ 2025? Wow. I had some opinions there.

On that note, more polyamory in general

Boun's vampire show???? Is it still happening????? Pretty please????? Also can they get Boss Chaikamon to stay in it somehow? 🥺

All the Chinese QLs. Drown me in them until they absolutely take over my life

In my wildest dreams Oreo Puwanai gets out from Wabi Sabi and joins Yacht at GMMTV so we get the WaanTul story continuation I need desperately

I know everyone is saying this but: COOHEART ADULT ROLE 2025!!!!!! POR FAVOOORRRRR. DÁLE UN PROYECTO ADULTO 😤

Get my man Peter Knight back on my screen. Just wave a scene of him being a dj at a bar or something to get him interested, idc

Dancer BL! Like I previously mentioned in a post about Fiat, we have enough dancer boys to put in the bracket for this!

If I already mentioned you, considered yourself tagged (if you wanna). Also tagging: @sunshinesanctuary @loveable-sea-lemon @firstkant @writerwithoutsound @shubaka @benkaben @scarefox @dommingjeffsatur @chaotic-aro-incarnate @poetry-protest-pornography

[bluebeary-jay]

CONGRATS!!! 1000 FOLLOWERS IS SO AWESOME AND I'M HAPPY FOR YOU!!🥰🩷

For the celebration I'm thinking Joel has lived in Jackson for months and has a bad reputation so people mostly avoid him and he always keeps to himself. BUT reader is the exception, always with a big smile and really polite to him (and he has a terrible crush on her). She always sees him alone at the bar looking around and seeming dislocated and decides to ask him "may I have this dance" cause she likes him too, but he panic and refuses. Later he realizes he's missing his chance with her and tries to fix it. Just some nice fluff (with age gap please🙏)

HIIIII SO SORRY FOR THE WAIT NONNIE

(okay so I'm back-ish, I apologize to everyone for disappearing but i had a rough couple of weeks and had to deal with a lot of stuff. i actually finished this fic some time ago but didn't have strength to post it but i'm more ready now so here you go <3 i hope you'll like it, i had a lot of fun writing it!! and thank you for requesting!! love you 🥰)

Joel Miller was a recluse. Everyone knew that, though not many were aware that he didn’t exactly choose this kind of life for himself.

He really hoped that things would get better after he settled down in Jackson with Ellie, but the residents of the town made it very clear that they didn’t want his company. It stung a little, especially since Joel didn’t think he gave them any reason to be wary of him, but he hid his hurt well. With time he got used to nasty whispers, people giving him a wide berth and basically everyone but Tommy and Ellie avoiding him. It was unpleasant, sure, but he learned to just deal with it.

Well, there was also you.

Joel had no clue what your deal was. Why you weren’t shying away from him like your fellow peers and why you went out of your way to always catch him into a conversation or smile at him whenever you saw him.

“I think she’s crushin’ on ya,” Tommy told him once during a dinner at his house. Ellie and Maria weren’t present, the latter showing the teen some clothes she might want – and thank fuck for that. Joel would murder his little brother if he said such nonsense in their presence.

“The hell you’re talkin’ about?” he spluttered, his eyebrows furrowed when Tommy sent him a smug, knowing grin. The question was completely unnecessary, of course, since they were already talking about you, but still Joel hoped he somehow misinterpreted his brother’s words.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Joel.” He sprawled out on the chair, still with that stupid smirk. “I really think she’s into you. I’d ask her out if I were you.”

“There’s no… I assure you she isn’t.”

“But if she was–”

“She’s not. Now can I eat my meal in peace?” Joel placed his hands on the table, but Tommy shook his head.

“But you like her, right? She’s nice.”

Joel sighed. “Yeah, she is.”

“And pretty.”

That Joel didn’t fall for. He glared at his brother.

“Jesus, Tommy, let me have it. I’m lucky she even wants to talk to me, with all her friends tellin’ her I’m bad news and me being half her age older.”

His eyes became solemn and voice took a lower, quieter tone, which told Tommy the matter was hitting Joel harder than he let on. He sat up straight, getting rid of the teasing smile.

“Alrigh’. Sorry for bringin’ it up.” Joel sighed and nodded, signifying that everything was okay. “I just want you to be happy, y’know. Maybe you should give yourself a chance.”

The older Miller didn’t answer and took a big swig of whiskey out of his glass.

The problem was, he didn’t need Tommy to tell him all that. Joel would have to be blind and stupid not to notice how breathtakingly beautiful you are, and this, combined with your intelligence, passion and sense of humor, was his ultimate undoing. Every time he talked with you, it was all he could do to hide the redness in his cheeks and the weakness in his knees.

But he did. ‘Cause, let’s be real – even though Joel recognized he had a terrible crush on you (though it took him weeks to make peace with this fact) he knew there was no way in hell you’d find him even a fraction as attractive as he found you. He was almost twice your age,  for heaven’s sake, and such a young, gorgeous woman as you would never agree to throw her life away to be with an old man.

But God knew that with each day you broke down his walls, the desire to kiss you was becoming more and more agonizing. Every smile you sent his way worked only to feed his imagination of how soft your lips would surely be if he could only brush his thumb across it, not to mention touch them with his own. He wondered how your hands, so much smaller than his calloused ones, would feel on his stomach or shoulders. How it would be to embrace you with his arms, skin to skin and without any layers in-between.

Those were not the thoughts he should be having, especially in public – yet here he was, several days after his conversation with Tommy, imagining impossible while he watched you laughing on the dance floor with your friend. You looked so carefree, so happy and full of life, your energy only reminding Joel sourly of his own old age.

He noticed you glancing his way several times throughout the evening but he knew it didn’t mean anything, it would never mean anything other than your innocent friendliness. So he just quickly looked away lest you realize he was staring.

Joel took a swing from his glass and looked around the bar, trying to take his mind off you – fruitlessly. His eyes still darted back to you every few seconds, involuntarily roaming over your exposed skin visible under the nice outfit you picked for tonight. It was driving Joel insane with longing and need, and all he could think of was the mental image of how kissing and touching you gently would feel like.

Bet you’d feel so perfect under his palms.

He closed his eyes and propped up his forehead on his fist, trying to tune out the music and all the distracting background noises.

Keep it together. 

He had to remember that he was way too old to be this enamored with a young, pretty girl like you. You would surely be repulsed if you had any clue about what was going on in his head, and some of the thoughts he had–

Then, Joel felt a light touch on his shoulder and lo and behold – there you were, standing right in front of him with a bright smile, as if summoned by his thoughts.

“Hi,” you said, tilting your head in that endearing way that made his insides tighten. “What are you doing here alone, cowboy?”

Joel prayed that he wasn’t blushing, though his hope diminished increasingly when your eyes wandered curiously across his features. Your eyebrows rose slightly and he cursed internally.

Fuck, you were so beautiful.

“M’not…” He cleared his throat and started again. “M’waitin’ for Tommy. He had to sort somethin’ out with… uh, someone.” He drummed his fingers against the table but stopped immediately, not wanting to give you an impression that the conversation with you was boring him. “You don’t have to do it, darlin’.”

You gave him a puzzled look, and he explained. “Y’know. Hang out with me. The people like to talk nasty things and I don’t wanna expose you to that.”

“It doesn’t bother me.” You shrugged with a sweet smile which Joel could kill for just to see it one more time. “And I… enjoy spending time with you.“

It didn’t mean anythin’. You were just bein’ friendly.

But even though he kept repeating it to himself like a mantra, Joel could not take his eyes off you. You were a vision – your profile bathed in the soft lights of the bar, your bottom lip between your teeth as you looked over your shoulder, deep in thought, at the stereo tower. The current song’s notes died down and a new one, much slower and romantic, started to play. You took a deep breath and let out a nervous laugh. “Actually I wanted to ask you something. If you don’t mind.”

“Ask away, darlin’.” He offered you a small smile, hoping to put you at ease, and you wetted your lips – which nearly gave him a heart attack and caused him to almost miss your next words.

“May I have this dance?”

Joel’s world stopped for a moment. He was in the middle of lifting the glass of whiskey to his lips but his muscles stiffened and the tumbler slipped out of his cold fingers. It didn’t shatter, but the rich liquid spilled all over the table. Your eyes flickered to the overturned glass, but Joel didn’t pay it any mind, too stunned to look at anything else but you.

“C-come again?” he stuttered, his voice strained and small. In the corner of his eye he noticed people at the next table glancing their way, alarmed by the noise, but he forced his attention back to you.

“This is my favorite song,” you explained shyly, an adorable blush spreading across your cheeks and neck. “So… may I have this dance, Joel?”

Now the people sitting around them definitely heard that, because they started smirking and whispering, and one person went to another group standing nearby on the dance floor. Joel felt his own face growing hot as he watched them pointing not-so-discreetly in his direction.

It was like the most wonderful dream and the most horrible nightmare come true at the same time.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way, not in front of all the people of Jackson who hated and despised him. He didn’t want to give them a show to gossip about or worse, subject you to their disdain.

But you still stood in front of his chair with an innocent, hopeful smile, though you started to shuffle the longer Joel was silent. The song – your favorite, supposedly – was passing in the background but you kept waiting patiently for an answer to your question.

He had to come up with something. Or just explain to you that he doesn’t dance – the sweet little thing you were, you’d probably understand and not pressure him into doing it. At least he hoped so.

C’mon, say somethin’.

“No.”

Your face fell instantly and Joel’s eyes widened at the mortifying realization of what just came out of his mouth.

Anythin’ but THAT.

You stared at him for a couple of seconds in the silence of the bar before your eyes started to glisten and you averted your gaze. Someone to Joel’s left snickered derisively and in the next second whispers erupted all around you two. You seemed to shrink in yourself, embarrassment and regret marking your beautiful face, and Joel’s heart almost broke when a tear slipped from your eye, and then another one fell down your other cheek.

“Okay,” you murmured, wiping the treacherous tears quickly and keeping your gaze trained on the floor. “Sorry. Sorry.”

You turned on your heel and went to exit the establishment, your step gradually turning into a run when the giggles and whispers around you became louder. The door swung open on the winter wind and just like that, you were gone.

Then all eyes turned to Joel – and the shame Joel felt increased at least tenfold.

He saw Tommy standing up and walking toward him from the other side of the room with worry written all over his face, but Joel didn’t stick around to hear what he had to say. He stood up and left through the same door you did, glaring threateningly at anyone stupid enough to still snicker at the situation they witnessed.

Ten minutes later Joel was standing in front of your door, trying to keep his knocking below the ‘desperate’ level.

He realized that he had to tell you. He intended to keep the feelings he harbored for you bottled up for the rest of his life but you needed to know the reason why he turned you down. You needed to hear from him that he cared about you, that it wasn’t some malicious act toward you but sheer cowardice stemming from the problem that he was madly in love with you.

“Hello? It’s… it’s Joel,” he choked out through his tight throat as he knocked again, a little louder this time. “Darlin’, can I talk to you?”

No response came, though he saw the lights in your house were on, and Joel had to take a deeper breath to calm his nerves. He prayed that he hadn’t completely screwed it up, but for now all the evidence spoke against him.

You wanted to dance with him. You gathered your courage just to ask him for a dance and he said no.

Joel knew he lost his chance. He lost you. You were his only friend in town and he somehow managed to fuck everything up with just one word.

He was so lost in his wallowing in despair that he almost missed the door opening slightly. In the gap of the doorway he caught a glimpse of your iris – and though it was only for a split second, Joel could clearly see that your eye was red. A pang of guilt pierced his chest but once you saw it was him, you shut the door again.

“No, darlin’, please. Please, just let me explain.” A wave of desperation and fear threatened to drown him and Joel’s heart clenched in his chest. “I’m so sorry, I acted like an asshole but I never wanted to hurt you, I just… I-I panicked.”

He was babbling, not even knowing if you were still there on the other side of the door, but the desperate and remorseful words were spilling out of him like a waterfall.

“I’m so sorry. Sweetheart…” Joel sighed, putting his hand on the cold wood of the door and listening for a couple of seconds, but there was no sound coming from inside. “Please. I’m beggin’ you, open the door.”

Then he heard something – a sound like blowing one’s nose. Joel froze for one, two… three seconds, and nearly collapsed in relief when you unlocked the door.

“You can come in,” you said, but didn’t meet his eyes. “You’re probably freezing, no?”

Joel nodded, feeling his throat going dry at the sorrowful sight of you. He crossed the threshold, closing the front door quietly behind him and looked you over. You hadn’t changed out of that pretty outfit of yours yet, although it was now covered by a long cardigan that you draped over your shoulders. In your hand you held a crumpled tissue but quickly pocketed it when Joel’s eyes fell on it.

He opened his mouth with a sharp inhale but before he could apologize, you beat him to it.

“I’m sorry for that,” you blurted out and glanced up at him but quickly looked down at the floor again. “I shouldn’t have asked you to dance in front of all those people and I overreacted because then everyone was looking at me… Look, it wasn’t even that big of a deal so don’t read into it. Everything is fine.”

“No, it’s not,” he said softly and you pressed your lips into a thin line. “You have nothin’ to apologize for. I’m sorry for embarrassin’ you. I panicked ‘cause I–”

“It’s fine,” you muttered again. “Just forget it.”

“I can’t. Listen, sweetheart, I panicked ‘cause I wish I could let myself read into it.”

Your head snapped up and Joel swallowed heavily, realizing how stupid that sounded.

“What I mean–” Fuck, he really was shit at talking so openly about these stuff. “I… I have feelings for ya. Had ‘em for a long time now but I never planned on actin’ on ‘em ‘cause I know I’m too old and you’d never…”

“You’re… really?” you asked with wide eyes, but he tuned your words out, fearing that you were going to kick him out at any second.

“I’m only tellin’ you all this ‘cause I need you to know I care about ya and I didn’t say ‘no’ outta malice or… or ‘cause I don’t like you. I do. Too much, I’m afraid.”

You were staring at him, mouth agape and silent. Joel didn’t move, awaiting your reaction – whether you tell him to get out or scream how disgusting he was, he was going to take it. And then, if you never want to see him again, he’ll accept it. One day. But he doubted his heart would ever recover.

“Let me fix it,” he begged, his voice just above a whisper when you didn’t give any reaction to his confession. “Please, darlin’.”

Your eyes skimmed over his face as you hummed to yourself, almost irritably calm. Joel swallowed, the weight of guilt and anticipation pulling him down – and he was ready to fall to his knees before you when finally you lifted your hand to brush his lower lip with your fingertips, so delicately he could barely feel it. He froze and tried not to breathe, not wanting to cause you to pull away.

“I noticed something when you were rambling,” you said with a hint of reflection. Joel had no idea what was happening or why were you acting that way, but he daren’t move. He briefly entertained a thought that he was dreaming, but then his attention got caught by the sight of the corner of your lips twitching slightly, as if you were keeping yourself from laughing.

His chest expanded with hope so strong, it was almost unbearably painful.

“What is it?” he forced himself to speak, the nerves making his voice weak and raspy.

“Your accent gets heavier when you’re nervous,” you mused, as though to yourself, now trailing your fingertips down his stubbly cheek. “It’s cute.”

His heart lurched at your words. You gazed up at him and absently bit your lip, which Joel found downright sinful.

“Do you have any idea how long it took me to gather the courage to make the first move?” Your words were bitter, but there was a trace of relief in your voice. Joel let your fingers wander across the lines of his jaw and cheekbones, wishing he had enough boldness to touch you like that, too, but suddenly, your hand stilled and your eyes met his again. “Did you mean it? The things you said?”

“Yes,” he answered without hesitation, his own fingers twitching as he restrained himself from reaching for you. His head was spinning, trying to comprehend the meaning of your actions and words. “But do you–”

You touched his lips lightly again, silencing his question, and your features slowly were overtaken by a large, bright smile, which seemed to lift all the heavy weight of worry from Joel’s shoulders.

“You wanted to fix it, right?” you asked in a teasing whisper. He nodded. “Then just ask me.”

You weren’t angry. You weren’t pulling away.

You wanted to dance with him and you gathered the courage to do so, and now Joel had to do the same. He couldn’t waste this second chance you gave him.

The corner of his lips quirked upwards and he exhaled shakily.

“May I have this dance?”

You pursed your lips to hide your joy and side-eyed him, but your eyes were sparkling with playfulness. “You know, I think I should respond the same way you did. Just to be fair.”

“Sweetheart, don’t play with this old man’s heart,” he whispered and smiled shyly when you giggled at the exasperation but also uncertainty in his voice. Joel still felt kind of out of it, too stunned to trust his mind that this was really happening – but the sound of your laughter brought him right back to Earth, to the place he wanted to be more than anywhere else.

“You’re lucky I’m feeling generous tonight, Miller.” You took his hand and brought it to your hip, making Joel’s breath hitch in his throat and cheeks grow warm. His reaction didn’t get past you, and you smiled at him so radiantly that his world started to spin. Then your arms wrapped around his neck and you pressed your body against his. “But you’ll have some atoning to do.”

His throat was dry, but Joel returned your shy smile, stepping to the side and guiding you carefully to the thumping rhythm of his heart.

And a couple of minutes later, after more hushed apologies and assurances during your slow-dancing, Joel placed his hand on your cheek, almost letting out a relieved whimper when you nuzzled your face into his palm.

And after another few minutes went by, when he leaned in and you didn’t stop his lips from meeting yours, he knew he was a goner.

He couldn’t get rid of the big smile on his face – perhaps the first real one since arriving in Jackson all those months ago.

[vampyreelf]

You're Mine Now

A/N: Let me know if I should make a part 2, guys. 🥰

Summary: After Mickey was shot, he left the college and became a hitman. His newest target? You. But he didn't want to kill you, so he decided to take you and make you his.

Mickey Altieri x Reader

Warnings: smut, dark, Mickey's POV, unsavory language, Stockholm syndrome, a dash of daddy kink, talks about murder

(this pic gave the inspo, actually)

Mickey had the foresight to escape after Mrs. Loomis shot him, he wanted to kill the bitch but she was finished off so he was fine. He got all of the money he had access from the bank account before it was closed by the police, so he was able to get by for a couple of years. He went back to the forums where he met Mrs Loomis so he started killing people for hire, it was quickly paying off quickly, he was able to be completely underground and it was great, getting paid for doing what you love.

It has been years now, Mickey was in a routine now. His fees were astronomical because he was the best of what he did, and he made no excuses about it, his only rule was no children, even murderous psychopaths had a line, and that was Mickey’s. Usually his customers were powerful men not wanting to deal with prenups, competitors in their fields, or simply people that pissed them off and that allowed him to walk around the higher circles and Mickey loves the finer things in life, so is a win win situation.

Mickey now was about to meet with a potential client, now he only accepts new customers through referrals, so it doesn’t blow back on him. Only now with all of his security measures in place, Mickey realises in how much danger he was by just accepting random anonymous messages, young and dumb as they say. The building was in a high end hotel, Mickey knew the owner so he knows that every recording of him is prompted deleted. He was wearing his signature full black tailored suit, Mickey was a silver fox now, he was glad that between balding and going gray, it was the latter for him.

“Mr. Wadsworth, how do you do?” The man was probably the same age as Mickey but he was in a disgusting shape, balding and a huge gut, it disgusted Mickey to no end. He took great pride in his appearance, he never understood why other people didn't.

“Mr…I didn't catch your name?” His voice was annoying, Mickey thought, definitely won’t be a regular client.

“That is because I didn't give it to you, shall we?” Mickey motioned for him to sit, which Mr. Wadsworth did. “So, what is the sensitive matter that would like me to handle?” Mickey was always adamant about using vague language, nothing that would look bad on a court reading, was his motto.

“I want a permit for drilling oil but the land is protected by law, there is one senator that is blocking it, I simply need him to have a family emergency, him not being around wouldn’t be good for business.” Mickey laughed, at least he had the foresight to know that getting rid of the only senator blocking his progress would be idiotic, you’d be surprised how many people able to afford a hitman are dumb to target the most obvious person.

“Great, who would be causing the family emergency?” The man passed Mickey the folder, he didn't look at it, Mickey was always adamant about doing his own research.

“It needs to be done before next month.” Mickey nodded and got up from his seat, this man was incredibly dull so he couldn’t wait to leave.

“I know my schedule, transfer half of the money and you’ll hear from me after is done.” They shook hands and Mickey went to his hotel room, it was where he preferred to work. Mickey had a house with way too many acres but he was barely there, if he was being honest it wasn’t conductive to business and it was lonely. Mickey always had one night stands, he hated (loved) to brag but getting women was not an issue for him at all, but an actual relationship? Not likely.

He opened the folder and he saw a photo of the target, the daughter of the senator, you. Seeing your photo made Mickey stop, what a fucking waste, he thought. You were fucking hot, he thought about maybe seducing you and then kill you but would that be enough? Mickey started reading about you, it was comical how much younger you were from Mickey, he was old enough to be his daughter, in his fucked up mind Mickey being so much older than you got him excited.

You were in university, no boyfriend made Mickey smile, from the files it seems as if you were a bit of a loner. He was going to start stalking you and to get close to you, and see how is the best way to do his job. Mickey finished reading your files and went to bed, he was painfully hard now, he simply decided to ignore it and focus on his task, you.

Mickey thought it was way too early, but apparently you woke up that early to go to the library, then your favourite local coffee shop. He got to the library before you, and then you entered the store, it was summer so you were wearing a blue summer dress, Mickey thought you looked delicious. You said hi to the worker and was getting closer to where he was, which was the classics. Mickey was now in character, pretending to ponder on which book to choose, he sighed and that got your attention.

“Hey, sorry to bother you but do you need help?” You tapped him on the shoulder and when Mickey turned to you he wanted to laugh at your reaction, your mouth was open it was clear as day that you found him attractive, that was always made the job much easier.

“It is that obvious that I need help?” Mickey let out a fake embarrassed laugh, it was easy to act like a dork sometimes, Mickey thought.

“Well, no. But you are holding one of my favourites and I need to know why you haven’t chosen it yet.” You were behaving like a school girl with a crush, the giggling, the hand on your face to hide the embarrassment, Mickey thought it was extremely cute.

“It’s for my niece, she just started university and I want to give her a nice gift. Do you think that should I just bite the bullet and buy both?” He gave you his million dollar smile and he could see you melting, you were adorable.

“If you can, I would. Especially if she’s a book worm like me.” You laughed again, and Mickey could see that you couldn’t hold eye contact him and he loved it.

“I can’t believe that you are a book worm, how can such a beautiful woman like you be buried in books? I guess that you have the beauty and the brains, then?” You touched Mickey’s arm while laughing, he got closer to you and you did too.

“You are too kind, sir.” Mickey took a deep breath, you calling him sir being so close to him was making him incredibly hard.

“I’m Mickey, by the way.” He extended his hand for you to shake it and you introduced yourself. Your whole demeanor, voice and body was intoxicating for Mickey, he wanted you, not just for one night, he wanted you to be his forever. “I know this is probably too much too soon but…would you like to get a cup of coffee with me?” He looked at you with a smirk, you looked so flustered and Mickey loved every second of it.

“Yes, there’s a coffee shop that I love.” You and Mickey went to the counter and he paid for both books, he could tell that you were admiring him, his suit, the way Mickey carried himself, he could tell that you enjoyed everything about him.

“Shall we? My car is parked right out front.” Mickey’s hand went on your lower back, he could tell that you enjoyed the contact, getting to the door he made sure to open the door for you. He did the same with his car door, his car was spacious and he could tell that you liked it. “You’re gonna have to guide me, because I moved here a couple months back and I still don’t know my way around it.” The two of you smiled and you were more than happy to give him directions to the coffee shop.

Getting there Mickey could tell that people were staring at him, it was a regular occurrence but he could tell that it was a bit weird for you, so he made sure to be touching you at all times, Mickey pulled the chair out for you and acted like the perfect gentleman for you, he was proud on that fact.

“So, what do you do for a living Mickey?” He could tell that you were nervous, afraid of saying the wrong thing and mess it up but that wouldn’t happen with Mickey to smooth out any situation.

“Consulting, they pay an obscene amount of money to put out their fires.” It was true, his killing rates were astronomical, and he did what he loved. “What about you, sweetheart?” You giggled like a schoolgirl and tried to cover it up with a cough, Mickey tought it was the sweetest thing ever.

“I’m in university at the moment, but I still have no idea what I’m going to do…maybe you can teach me more about consulting?” Mickey could see the attempt of trying to get his number and he smiled.

“I’d be more than happy to teach you anything you want, sweetheart.” Mickey put his hand on yours and you looked at it and he saw how your breathing changed, oh you were horny, Mickey thought to himself.

“I’d like that.” You said in a breathy voice and Mickey knew you were a goner.

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

After your first date, Mickey made sure to take your contact details and he was now a staple in your life. He was the first person you called when you had anything going on in your life, and it has only been a week. Mickey on the other hand was utterly obsessed with you, and he already that he wasn’t going to kill you and that you were going to be with him for the rest of your life. He already had everything ready, and he made sure to destroy the life of the man that wanted you dead and if you were with him, no one would try to kill you because of your father ever again.

Mickey went to the restaurant to meet you, today was the day that he was going to make you his fully. His house was already set for you to be there, no work for a while to pay full attention to you, Mickey never felt this way before, and he wasn’t going to give up on you, he owned you, it was only a matter of time for you to find out.

“How are you, sweetheart?” You went to Mickey and kissed him, and he took advantage of that and put the drug on your drink.

“I’m great, I can’t wait for you to meet my parents.” Mickey smiled, another reason why he wanted to take you away, not having to meet your parents.

“Me too, sweetheart.” The two of you started talking about other things, and you started getting a bit sleepy. “Are you okay, baby?” Mickey looked so concerned, it almost looked real.

“Yeah, yeah…just a bit tired.” You yawned and Mickey asked for the check, the drug was going to knock you out in a few minutes.

“Let’s get you home, sweetheart.” He paid with cash, as always and guided you to his car. As soon as you got there, sleep took over you.

Mickey started driving, he made the point of not initiating any intimacy with you, he wanted you fully comfortable with him. He looked at your exposed legs and Mickey caressed it, your skin was so smooth, he felt like a goddamn teenager, getting hard just by feeling your leg. He focused on the road, otherwise he would start fucking you before you woke up.

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

When Mickey arrived with you still asleep it was evening, he took you out of the car and carried you to his house. House was an understatement, it was a mansion but Mickey hated to brag. He had a bedroom ready for you, it didn't open from the inside, he knew that you were going to freak out for a couple of days and he needed to break you in.

He decorated the bedroom in a way that he knew you would enjoy, he put you on the bed and left. Watching you on the camera, Mickey grabbed a beer and waited for you to wake up. He knew that he could be quite obsessive but there was something about you because Mickey never went through so much trouble just for some pussy.

Hours passed and you started to wake up, Mickey could see and he was excited about it. He could tell that you were starting to freak out.

“Hello?” Your voice was cracking, and Mickey couldn’t help but groan. He loved hearing you so helpless. “Is there anyone out there?” He could see that you were about to cry, Mickey knew he was fucked in the head, he was since a child but hearing you cry? Fuck, that making him incredibly hard. “Is my boyfriend alright?” Mickey groaned, you were worried about him? Fuck, he started palming himself through his trousers. “Please, don’t hurt him.” Tears were running down your cheeks and Mickey got his cock out and he started stroking it, while he could hear you cry, his strokes got quicker. “Please.” Mickey groaned, and his strokes got quicker. “Please, I’ll do anything.” He started massaging his balls and with the way you were begging? Mickey was going to cum anytime now. “Please.” Mickey came, hard. He got all of his trousers dirty, but it didn't matter.

Mickey didn't talk to you, he only gave you food. It has been days, you were going insane and every time you cried, he was jerking off. He decided to taunt you and got something he hasn’t used in years, the Ghostface voice modulator.

“Good morning, bunny.” The voice boomed across the bedroom and you were scared.

“Who are you?” You sounded almost happy to have a human interaction and Mickey could see how much you craved for it. “Are you going to kill me?” Tears started running down your face, you were so scared. “Where is Mickey?” Seeing how much you were worried about him, Mickey was enjoying every second of it.

“I could never kill you, if you must know someone wanted to kill you, I simply got in the way. This is for your protection.” You started yelling and crying so Mickey stopped talking, and you fell asleep after doing it for hours.

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

It has been a whole month, Mickey could see it was getting to you, your mental state was very fragile and he knew this. So now it was time to show himself to you, next part of the plan. Mickey was sure Stockholm Syndrome would make you so malleable, perfect to be his perfect little doll. You were asleep when Mickey opened the door, he watched you for a few minutes, you looked so peaceful.

“Sweetheart, wake up.” He shook you, and you woke up. As soon as you saw Mickey, you started kissing him. 

“Oh my God, are you okay? Mickey, I thought they killed you.” Mickey had a couple of fake bruises on his face, but he thought of something different now.

“How could they kill me when it’s my house, bunny?” He used the voice modulator and you just looked at him, but it was curious, you didn't stop touching Mickey.

“It was you?” You whispered, but your hands were still on Mickey and he was smirking at you.

“Of course, I couldn’t let them kill you, bunny.” Mickey started touching your face and you leaned into his touch.

“You love me?” You whispered, he could see the wheels turning in your head.

“Of course, there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.” After those words were uttered, you jumped on Mickey.

You started removing his shirt, you were wearing a silk nightgown and nothing underneath. Mickey started kissing you, it was all teeth and passion, he removed your nightgown and you removed his cock from his trousers. 

“I need this, daddy.” You stradled him and aligned his cock at your entrance, Mickey couldn’t believe any of this. It was as if you were possessed.

Mickey put your nipple in his mouth, you were bouncing on his cock, he could feel how wet you were. 

“Keep bouncing on my cock, bunny.” The two of you were on the floor, there was no time to get into bed. You were moaning and bouncing on his big and thick cock, your pussy felt like heaven for Mickey, he was never letting you go now.

“Fuck, daddy.” You screamed, and he could tell you were going to cum.

“Oh, I can tell you’re going to cum bunny. Come on, cum all over my cock little bunny.” He bit your left breast making you moan and then you pulled his hair and Mickey could feel you cumming around his cock.

You were exhausted, you put your head on his shoulder and Mickey started cumming inside you and you moaned. This was perfect, Mickey picked you up and put you on the bed. You started whining and he laid with you, and you laid on top of Mickey.

“I love you, never leave me.” After this, you fell asleep. Mickey smiled, this was way better than he ever imagined.

"Don't worry, bunny. You're mine now." He kissed your forehead and fell asleep as well.

[battyaboutbooksreviews]

[ x ]

🦇 Heir Book Review 🦇

Rating: ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

❓ #QOTD What's your favorite fantasy book?❓ 🦇 An orphan. An outcast. A prince. And a killer who will bring an empire to its knees. An old tragedy fuels Aiz's need for vengeance, while love of her people that propels her. Sirsha agrees to use her magic to hunt a killer who is murdering children across the Martial Empire. And Quil is the Empire's crown prince, though he's loath to take the throne. Sabaa Tahir interweaves the lives of these three young people as they grapple with power, treachery, love, and the devastating consequences of unchecked greed, on a journey that may cost them their lives—and their hearts. Literally.

💜 *Insert a plethora of creative curses here* For fig's sake. I can't even begin to describe the pure AWE I have, not only for this story, but for Sabaa Tahir, fantasy and Muslim-American literary goddess, in general. I honestly can't think of a story I've read that was so well intertwined, so fully conceptualized, while respecting roots of the series that came before it. Earlier this year, I had the fortune to read The Fragile Threads of Power by VE Schwab, which continued her Shades of Magic series. Reading Heir sparked that same feeling; the sensation of returning home after a long journey through other vast worlds. I'm grateful that Penguin Teen hosted the Ember in the Ashes read-along this summer. While Heir introduces us to new characters, 20 years after the Ember in the Ashes series ends, each mention and emergence of a familiar character provided a sweet taste of nostalgia I didn't know I needed. These books have seeped themselves deep within my marrow since 2015, and Sabaa Tahir has been on my favorite/auto-buy author for just as long. She's the first Muslim-American to win the National Book Award for Young People's Literature; a feat that gives me hope and inspiration as a Muslim-American writer.

💜 Reading Heir, you can see how much Tahir's prose has flourished over the past decade. Despite stepping back into this familiar world, it's richer, more vivid. The action is just as intense and ruthless, the characters undeniably unique. The underlying themes resonate deeply. I loved every nod to South Asian, Pakistani, and Islamic culture. It's always the five-star book reviews I struggle with the most. I could talk about this story for hours, but I'd spoil so much that I want you to experience for yourself.

💙 Don't worry: if you haven't read the An Ember in the Ashes quartet, you can still enjoy Heir. The three main characters have their own vivid story to tell, and while there are mentions of many beloved characters from the original series, they're supporting cast to Aiz, Sirsha, and Quil. I will say that the first part of the story took a moment to adjust to, and there's the lingering question of HOW these characters are connected, but once you realize how the breadcrumbs were laid out for you, you'll realize the execution is FLAWLESS. The fast pace keeps you on your toes, the ever-growing tension driving you to the last page. As for the underlying romantic story, AH! It was perfectly built, the sass and chemistry playful without stealing from the main plot, yet heart-wrenching; that kind of painful that keeps you invested long-term. OH! And can we talk about our villain? That BUILD?! I love a villain with reason--a character who doesn't realize they're the villain at all, someone with a mission that goes about it in all the wrong ways. This story had EVERYTHING and then some. I'll be recommending it for the next 20 years.

🦇 Recommended for fans of The Red Queen series, The Lunar Chronicle series, and The Throne of Glass series.

✨ The Vibes ✨ 🫀First in a Duology ✨ Young Adult High Fantasy/Romantasy 👑 Political Intrigue ⛏ Enemies to Lovers 💓 Found Family 👁 Multi POV

🦇 Major thanks to the author and publisher for providing an ARC of this book via Netgalley. 🥰 This does not affect my opinion regarding the book. #Heir

💬 Quotes ❝ Get what you need. Forget the rest. ❞ ❝ "You are a daughter of the evening star. You are not meant to be caged." ❞ ❝ “I give my heart unto her keeping, a gift with no compare.” ❞ ❝ "The past will distract you from the now. And it’s the now that matters.” ❞ ❝ “You seek to understand the fibers that make the world,” Loli Temba said, “but not your own pain, nor that of others. You’d be better served understanding the latter.” ❞ ❝ He looked at her like her secrets were the sea, and he was at home in dark water. ❞ ❝ “Quil—” His name rolled off her tongue, a prayer. “Please—” “Mmm,” he said. “You should say that more, Sirsha. I’d give you whatever you wanted.” ❞ ❝ “Care about yourself as much as you care about those you love. As much as— as we care about you.” ❞ ❝ Sirsha grabbed his hand, wishing she could articulate the desire suffusing her, something more than I need you and I wish I didn’t. ❞

[sylvies-chen]

ok TED LASSO EPISODE 2 THOUGHTS:

keeley wanting to take a blood oath with her coworkers on ayahuasca is so funny like these writers really understand girl culture 😌

dani is the unsung hero of this episode because his lines have such an innocence to them even as he’s telling trent to fuck off which honestly takes talent to portray with such naïveté so kudos to cristo for that!

THE TEAM BEING UPSET EVEN BY THE RUMOUR OF ROY AND KEELEY BREAKING UP hands down the funniest and most amazing scene of the episode like they all know roykeeley are precious and the king and queen must be protected at all costs i love those himbos 🥰

trent is doing his best and honestly we love him for it. I mean look at that face, what’s not to love?

I do think his book will cause some ground to rumble at richmond though. rebecca and keeley and higgins were right in nodding vigorously at ted because it will not be good if it blows up

also rebecca saying yes while seeing a bunch of no gestures just after ted did the same thint mhm yeah soulmates I do believe

roy is being his usual self this episode and you can so clearly see how his mindset with his career last season set the tone for his mindset in his relationship with keeley which led him to break up with her. he’s being stupid because hello, she’s keeley fucking jones, he needs to get over the insecurity, but I also get how his it’s valid as he’s felt it in so many aspects of his life before. him holding onto the news clipping is proof of that. the whole “some people would rather quit than get fired” thing just is so layered with him dumping her out of fear that he would end up dumped one day and have his insecurities about not being good enough for her confirmed. this also means he’s growing and will get over it though, trust in endgame everyone !!

zava is more of a diva then jamie was in season 1 and it is going to be a BLAST watching jamie perhaps revert back to his old self just a *little* bit out of jealousy and watch these two have one big ol’ diva-off (in my head it plays out like a “lip sync battle for your life” on rupaul’s drag race kind of moment but that���s just me)

THE PUB BESTIES ARE BACK OMG

jamie trying to hug roy and roy shoving him away cause he was freaked out was absolutely hilarious like it’s giving fleabag when claire tried to hug her (if anyone hasn’t seen fleabag pls go watch it on amazon prime)

Rupert Mannion is a slimy turd and I hope Rebecca murders him in a violent and unspeakable manner and then gets away with it

also Rebeca yelling at Zava in the bathrooms paralleling when she told Keeley that men give each other jobs in bathrooms all the time!!! Haha!

give me a ten hour episode of Jason Sudeikis as Ted Lasso batting his eyelashes and making comments about Hallmark Christmas movies and I will be a happy woman

BONUS: the amsterdam snowglobe!!! THEY KEEP TEASING THIS TRIP AND GOOD LORD IT IS GOING TO KILL ME!!!

[x3n0-lik3s-t0-dr4w]

DAD!TUNNER AU (mostly a rant)

Yes! You read it right! In my AU, Tunner is a father of two, and a father figure of many. Many ask him for assistance if they feel unsafe; commonly because he’s a dad, but also because he’s a sheriff.

Tunner would do anything to protect his kids, even if it ended up putting him in a hospital.

[TW]: Hospitalization, Murder, Fire, and gory details in general (pls don’t report it for this- 😭😭)

One of those times Tunner was put in the hospital was when he was poisoned. He and a close friend were working on a case, involving one of the many people he was close with, His “daughter.” She was nearly killed on the way home one day, and she had 3 stab wounds to the chest. During the case; a shady person brought him and his friend a coffee, turned out it was poisoned.

Another time Tunner was put in the hospital—Was that he was shot twice while defending his kids from the shady person. He was shot once in the arm and one in the chest. They took his gun and shot him with it. His “daughter” took care of his actual adopted daughters; Euline and Elenor.

And recently, Tunner was hospitalized from his face and a good chunk of his arm burnt—Third degree that left scarring. There was a car that was leaking gasoline; and the transformer up above it was sparking. He ended up shielding his “daughter” from the fire—But they were both sent back where Tunner was knocked out with a concussion.

Because of the result of the explosion—Tunner had developed a fear of fire. He’s a lot more anxious now—But he’s able to do his job correctly.

Tunner unfortunately has panic attacks—And they’re commonly caused by flashbacks.

——-

Tunner is bisexual—Where he might be poly. He loves Jevin, but he also loves Calliope. (My friend’s Black. He’s a sweetheart 🥰)

He loves playing guitar—His Guitar has stickers from his kids.

——-

THANKS FOR LISTENING TO MY VERY LONG RANT HERE’S TUNNER’S DESIGN SO YOU HAVE AN IDEA

OH BY THE WAY YOU CAN ASK HIM NOW SO ASK AWAY :DDD

[loafyall]

Heheheh angst…. Heheheheh

What would the HCQ do if Yanqing either got seriously injured or just died

OOOHHHH I LUV ANGST TIME YALL

Let's go with if yanqing died

Depression, Jing yuan wouldn't leave his room for days or even weeks heck it will do turn months!, It was stupid of him, So stupid that he couldn't protect his own son, Someone who he treasured, He won't be able to get over his death so easily, in the soul soothing ceremony, He didn't give all yanqing's items, Only a few, And rest? He kept to himself. The pain of losing a child was unbearable, he wasn't able to eat or sleep properly, It was only when Yingxing forced him to rest and eat.

Yingxing and danfeng would have never believed the news, Thinking that people were pranking them, But no. After seeing jing yuan's state, They realised that Yanqing was no longer, He was gone. Yingxing just stayed in his blacksmith shop for days, Refusing to eat, He was broken after yanqing's death, But he had to take care of jing yuan, Knowing that Jing yuan would have a scar for the rest of his life, He has to help his husband.

Dan feng did find yanqing's diary, There were many things that Yanqing wanted to do, It was like a bucket list, see the new swords at the artisan commision, Buy swords, etc. poor boy will not longer buy his desired swords, Nor stay with his loved ones. This was rarely when Dan feng cried, Losing the kid who he raised along side his two husbands, Yingxing and jing yuan, He swears he will kill the person who murdered yanqing.

Baiheng would not believe the news at first, As jingliu told her, But as she started to realise, Baiheng had a breakdown, She started crying in the arms of her wife, jingliu, Jingliu however in the situation was strong, And held back her emotions. But deep down, Yanqing's death did affect her, She couldn't stand seeing baiheng and jing yuan like this at all, She missed yanqing.

WELL I HOPE YALL LIKE THIS, KEEP GIVING ME MORE QUESTIONS!!! HAVE A GOOD DAY SWEETIES 🥰

[simpforchuchu]

Hi, are u okay?I found your profile this month and I'm already in love. If possible I would like to make a request for a continuation of Hyuga x reader x SWORD, part 3, maybe where in the middle of the mission in the past, y/n became close friends with Takeru Amamiya, and the two helped each other against Kuryu? I don't know why, but I figured y/n might be close to him. But of course, only if you intend to continue, and you don't need to join the idea, but this story became my top 3.

Hyuga x reader x SWORD | Part 3

Prompts: DAY 27 - left for dead @febuwhump Characters: Hyuga x Sword Leaders x Amamiya Brothers x reader Fandom: High and Low Summary: Y/n telling the story about her past and Takeru Amamiya.

A/n for this fic: It’s been really very long time but I always wanted to write this one. Im sorry for being too late but I hope you like it 🥺💜

A/n for prompts: Hello guys! This is my first time trying a prompt challenge. I hope you like the short fics I wrote. I will finish them by writing some of the requests I have. I love you 💜

Sorry for the grammer or spelling mistakes.English is not my main language so...

Thank you and love you 🥰

Warnings: mention of blood, fights, gunshots, murder, mostly angst

Part1 Part2

After the doctor finished cleaning the wound, he gave the young woman a painkiller injection into her arm and y/n thanked him. It bothered her that people around him were looking at her. She was also very tired because she had been on the run for a while and she was injured.

Koo handed the package that Kaito and Kizzy gave him to the young woman and smiled.

“If you are uncomfortable with the blood and want to change your clothes, they brought clean clothes for you, y/n-san.”

While Y/n was looking at the man who handed her the package in surprise, Murayama came to them excitedly.

“We bought you food too, y/n-chan! You must be hungry.”

Y/n frowned at the young man's cheerful voice.

“Y/n-chan? I am older than you."

Cobra called from the other corner of the room as Murayama grinned and shook his head.

“I don't think it matters to him, y/n-san.”

When the blonde man rolled his eyes and spoke, Murayama stepped next to him to annoy him even more. Y/n smiled and took out the burger from the package and took a bite.

Since she had been hiding for a while, she realized how much she missed eating something delicious.

While the young woman was eating, Hyuga was watching her. Despite her messy hair, bloody clothes and scarred face, he thought the young woman was quite beautiful. Also, her rebellious side attracted her more to him.

The Amamiya Brothers came to the woman who was eating to talk. Y/n knew the two of them, so she put the half burger in her hand back into the package, anticipating what they would ask the moment she saw them. And she smiled at them.

“I know what you're going to ask, but I don't have the answer. I'm sorry.”

Hyuga was as surprised as the brothers. Y/n smiled and shook her head.

“You're going to ask about your big brother, right? I know him, but I don't know where he is."

When Hiroto excitedly took a step towards the young woman, Masaki pulled him back. He knew that the young woman still did not trust them and might be afraid.

“Can you tell us everything from the beginning?”

At Masaki's warm tone, y/n took on a serious expression again.

“I think you know I'm a former cop.”

When everyone in the room nodded, y/n continued.

“My family was killed when I was very young. So I became a cop to find their killer. But years later, I realized that the real killers of my family were Kuryu and that powerful people in the government were protecting them.”

Hyuga continued to listen intently as the young woman's eyes sparkled with hatred.

“It was a moment when I really thought it was over. I didn't know what to do, but a man appeared before me when I least expected it and changed my life.”

“Aniki?” y/n nodded when Hiroto whispered.

“Takeru-san… He gave me many documents from which I could learn all the facts. But unfortunately, I was dismissed and fired before I could disclose these documents. And they didn't even give me any reason. Is not it funny ?"

When the young woman gave a sarcastic laugh, no one in the room laughed. Y/n was tired, the painkillers were making her sleepy.

“They knew I had the documents. One night, while returning home, I realized that I was being followed. Even though I ran away for a while, they eventually shot me. “

When the young woman felt her wound sting, she looked at her arm and continued.

“I was tired from running away for a long time, and I fell to the ground in pain. They left me there to die.”

Hiroto asked in surprise. "And when they realize you're not dead?"

“I had to remove the bullet myself. I couldn't go to the hospital. But when I entered the nameless city to hide, I was seen and it turned out that I was not dead. I knew they were after me again, so I got scared when I realized you were looking for me."

Masaki nodded his head. Hiroto could sense that the young woman was telling the truth.

“Takeru-san helped me learn the facts. He helped me, he saved me and encouraged me. But unfortunately I never saw him again after I was shot. I am sorry ."

The Amamiya brothers remained silent. Even though they wanted to hear more from the young woman, Hyuga could see that she was injured and tired. That's why he said they could talk later and that she needed to rest.

Y/n leaned back on the couch and took a deep breath. She listened to three men arguing for a while. Then, when the two brothers left the room, he looked at the man whose nose she had been about to break hours ago. He looked calm but worried. But she was too tired to think about these things.

Her eyes were slowly closing. A few seconds after her eyes were completely closed, she felt a weight on her. She was startled but could not open her eyes.

It wasn't hard to understand that it was Hyuga who was covering her with his jacket, but what was surprising was his soft voice.

“You should rest, relax a little. I'm here, no one can take you while I'm here."

HnL taglist : @straysugzhpe @tiddly-winx @ninamarie1994 @thatpoindexterpixy @koala-yuna @star2fishmeg @little-miss-naill

[canirove]

In The Name of Love | Chapter 28

Author’s note: Before you read this chapter, you need a bit of context, because most of you probably aren't from Spain 😅 On this chapter Pedri goes to a Spanish talk show called "La Resistencia", and it is like the most unserious talk show ever. Keep that in mind all the time. There is a main host (Broncano), and then two other who just add random comments from time to time. At the end of the interviews they always ask their guests two questions: how much money do they have on their bank account, and how often have they had sex during the last month, and that's what happens here 😁

Previous chapter | Next chapter

Masterlist

🚨 Please read the author's note before reading this chapter or you may not understand what is going on 😅

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

Just finished my interview in La resistencia

How did it go?

It was fun 

But I'm sorry

🤨 Sorry about what? 

You know about the questions, right?

Yes…

I'm not allowed to say anything about the money, but the other one…

NO What the fuck did you say?

Well…

PEDRO, WHAT DID YOU SAY

Maybe that I'm not single. Among other things 🙈

Other things? What things?

You have to watch it

I'm fucking murdering you That's what I'm doing 

You won't, you love me 🤍

Yeah 🙄

🥰🥰

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Ok, now you know what I have to ask you."

"The questions…" Pedri says.

"The questions. So, let's start with the easy one. How much money do you have on your bank account?" Broncano asks him.

"That's the easy one?" Pedri chuckles.

"C'mon, don't try to distract me. How much?"

"I'm not allowed to tell you, I'm sorry."

"Bullshit."

"I can't" Pedri insists. "The club has a new clause that doesn't allow us to tell you how much money we earn. It's called the Broncano clause."

"Sure" he snorts.

"I'm not joking."

"He is not joking. Look at how serious he looks" one of the other hosts says.

"Ok, ok. No money talk. But now you have to give me a good answer."

"I'll try" Pedri laughs.

"How many times have you had sex in the past month?"

"I can't give you an exact number."

"C'mon, Pedri" Broncano says. "You have to give me something."

"Is quite often a valid answer?"

"I need you to be more specific. Like, have you had sex today?"

"This morning before coming to Madrid" Pedri says.

"That is specific" one of the other hosts laughs.

"And yesterday?" Broncano asks.

"Yesterday too."

"And the day before?"

"Every day this week. Happy now?" Pedri chuckles.

"Oh, that's… Quite often, yes. Do you have a partner?"

"I have a girlfriend, yes."

"The gasp! Did you hear the gasp from the crowd?" the other host laughs again.

"Wait, people didn't know?" Broncano asks.

"You just got the exclusive" Pedri says.

"Oh God. We've got an exclusive! Can we get one of those exclusive things on the screen? I think we need it. Pedri has a girlfriend! Can I ask you questions about her?"

"You can, but I may not answer them" he laughs.

"Ok, that's fair. But can we get anything else? Is it recent?"

"We've been together for like 3 years and I'm the happiest I've ever been."

"Aww, cute" the other host says. 

"Is she here?" Broncano asks.

"She's in Barcelona, probably planning how to murder me for saying all this" Pedri laughs. "I'm sure my brother has already texted her about it."

"Is your brother here?"

"Yeah, there in the crowd."

"Where is Pedri's brother? Someone give him a microphone! Oh, there he is. Hello."

"Hi" Fer says.

"Have you texted Pedri's girlfriend and told her about this?"

"I'm not brave enough" he laughs. 

"Does she have a character?"

"You have no idea" Pedri says. "But she actually is a softie."

"I think you are not fucking when you go back home" Broncano says, making everyone laugh. 

"Not the first time that happens, tho" Fer smirks.

"Oh, oh, oh. That sounds interesting. Tell us more" one of the other hosts says.

"She supports Real Madrid, so you can imagine."

"Wait, what? A Barça star is dating a Real Madrid supporter?" Broncano says, his eyes wide.

"Love works in mysterious ways" Pedri shrugs.

"Has she made you sleep on the sofa when you've won against them?"

"We don't live together yet, we haven't had to go through that."

"But she hasn't invited you to her place after the game, has she?"

"She hasn't, no" Pedri laughs.

"Has she ever angry fucked you after a defeat?" one of the other hosts asks him.

"If I answer that you won't be seeing me again."

"That's a yes. See you at your funeral, Pedri" Broncano says, making everyone laugh. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

"Oh my God, Val. He's broken the internet!"

"Hello to you too, Marina. Please come in."

"Sorry" she says. "But Val, this is huge!"

"Yeah, I guess" I say, closing my apartment's door and sitting down on the sofa.

"Are you still mad at him?"

"Slightly pissed."

"Is he grounded with no sex this weekend?"

"Marina!"

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry" she laughs. "But it's funny that you do that to him."

"I don't ground him, he isn't a child."

"That's not what you used to say…" she smirks.

"Whatever. Tell me what is going on online."

"Oh, yes! Pedri basically broke the fandom and people are going nuts and full on FBI."

"And that isn't good."

"It isn't, no."

"Have they found anything?" I ask.

"No, nothing. But do you remember when I told you that some fans believed his goal celebration was for a girl?"

"I do, yes."

"Well, they've put two and two together and realized that the dates match, so now they know the celebration is for you."

"Oh, that's ok. I don't mind."

"Yeah… but there is more."

"More?" I say.

"They also know that your name starts with a V, so they are going crazy checking all the people he follows on Instagram looking for girls whose names start with a V."

"But they won't find me there, he doesn't follow me with his official account."

"Exactly. So now they are looking for people who follow his private account, asking them to check."

"What? That is crazy!"

"Yeah…" 

"Marina, what is it? What has happened?"

"Well…" she says, playing with her phone.

"Marina, tell me. You are making me nervous."

"There is a girl on Tiktok who says she had something with him and that they follow each other on his private account. She says she knows who you are and is teasing people about it."

"What?" I say, getting up from the sofa. "That is so fucked up!"

"She said she will be posting a video with proofs."

"Proofs? Proofs of what?"

"I don't know" Marina shrugs. "But Val, does Pedri follow you with that account?"

"He… fuck" I say, sitting down again. "He stopped using it after we met and created a new one, but he started following me with that one."

"So she could have found you…"

"She could have… Oh my God, Marina. What are we going to do?"

"Call him? Ask him to unfollow you or delete that account so she can't lurk anymore?"

"But he is in training."

"And her next video is going up in… 20 minutes" Marina says, checking her phone.

"Oh… my God. This can't be happening!" I say, covering my face with my hands.

"Fer!"

"What?"

"Fer!" she repeats. "He used to deny rumours about Pedri's relationships in the past, so he may know about this girl, if what she says is true or not!"

"That's… ok. But what if it is true? He doesn't have Pedri's instagram password to delete the account."

"But maybe he can reach the girl and threaten her with suing her if she says something?"

"Is that possible?"

"I don't know" Marina shrugs. "But he could try. Call him, we need his help."

"Ok" I sigh. 

━━━━━━❃━━━━━━

I'm so sorry, Val 🥺🥺🥺

It's ok

No, it isn't

We almost got exposed and it's all my fault

You didn't know you had slept with a crazy girl

We never went that far

Then now we know why she was so bitter 😂

Aren't you mad?

I mean… the fact that now the whole world knows that I exist, and also some intimate details about our relationship, isn't ideal  But I'm not mad, no.  At least not anymore  Though what that girl did scared the hell out of me, Pedri

I know, and I'm sorry 🥺

I shouldn't have said anything on tv, but I got so excited… 

I just wanted to share with the world how happy I am with you 😔

Awww, Pepi 🥺

I love you, Val 🤍

And I love you too 🤍

Does this mean that I'm not sex grounded anymore? 😇

Not you too with that 🙄

What? 🤨

Nothing, forget about it But I'm not changing my mind about it. You'll have to wait until next week and only if you win against Atleti

We will, I promise 😊

You better 

Everything good, then?

Everything good.  But delete that damn Instagram account before another crazy ex tries to do something 

Yes, ma'am 🫡 

Good That's my boy 😊🤍

Your favourite one just like you are my favourite girl 🤍

Cheesy

But the truth 😊

[hurthermore]

Hi bestie, it’s ✨refreshing✨anon here, because AO3 won’t let me post my comment on there.🥺 might have to do with why they closed guest comments a few days ago, idk 🤷, so I want to share my thoughts here 💕

“Omg, Al POV 2-Parter!? 😳

Stalking montage, mayhaps?!?!? 😳 😳 😳

Love that Reader was always a little cuckoo, but hey, can’t blame her?!? Look at that fucking CRADLE ROBBER she has to deal with. 🤮 if she murders him, she can get away with calling it “natural causes” lololol. And yes Al, she WILL murder him and it WILL be SEXY 💅 😘 🔥.

I’m still DYING to know what happened in the last chapter 😩 !!! Girlie, my SHOVELS are still under warranty, we don’t have to bury him, but what happened to my baby boy???? 🥺 and why do I get the impression that it had something to do with that rat, Vincent??? 😡

This was a great chapter! I’m so FLATTERED that Al considered murdering us, but then was like “nah, it’s not ‘murder her’, it’s MURDERHER now ❤️ “. I’m so excited to see this man corrupt reader 🥰. LETS GO BABY. MURDER COUPLE 👩‍❤️‍💋‍👨🔪! PSYCHOLOGICAL HORROR 🤪! I’m SO READY!!! AAAAAAH”

Sksks Tysm for reaching out!<3 and your feedback!! Many kisses<33

Don’t worry; we will pick up where chapter nine ended after we’ve gone through Alastor’s POV throughout the previous chapters!<3

I wanted everyone to kind of understand Alastor a bit more, his personality and thoughts, because it’s important to me that people understand where a person is coming from, especially when they’re so erratic.

And also because I like leaving people hanging sksksksk