#so what is happening: he is completely indifferent to me. most he did was remember my name and face. but he is nice.

[totheidiot]

i hate that the solar eclipse just now serves as a reminder that nobody loves me.

[kirschteinsbitch]

More Than Friends

Pairing: Giyuu Tomioka x Fem!Reader Summary: You take your best friend's virginity. Warnings: NSFW MINORS DNI, Modern AU, College AU, friends to lovers, alcohol, eventual smut, blowjob, spitting, unprotected sex, squirting, creampie Word Count: ~8k Author Note: first time posting on here, be nice 😭🙏🏾

Despite your completely opposite personalities, Giyuu had been your closest friend for as long as you could remember. You were a natural extrovert, always surrounded by a lively crowd, while Giyuu preferred the quiet solace of his own company. But no matter how many people clamored for your attention, nothing and no one could ever come between you and Giyuu. You'd sooner let the world fall apart than let that happen.

High school had been a blur of late-night study sessions, stolen laughter, and quiet evenings spent cuddled together on one of your couches. Rumors about your relationship were inevitable—everyone assumed there was something deeper going on between you. But the whispers were usually silenced the moment you publicly introduced your latest boyfriend.

Giyuu never made any comments about your questionable love life. He listened patiently when you vented about breakups and bad dates, never offering judgment or unsolicited advice. And in return, you didn't comment on the fact that Giyuu had never been on a date at all—or shown any interest in changing that.

It wasn't until you were 16, during one of your usual late-night hangouts, that the two of you stumbled into a conversation neither of you had anticipated.

"You know," you began, sprawled across his bed, while he sat at his desk, textbooks and notes scattered around him. "If either of us are still virgins by the time we're 21, let's just lose it to each other."

His pen came to a halt mid-scratch on the page, and he looked up at you with wide eyes. A blush crept up his neck, but he couldn't hide the curiosity in his gaze. "What?"

You propped yourself up on your elbows, meeting his stare with a playful grin. "I'm serious. It's better than hooking up with some random person, isn't it? At least we know each other."

He looked back at his desk, his shoulders stiff. "That's... a crazy thing to promise."

You tilted your head, studying him for a moment before responding. "Why? I trust you."

There was a long pause as he contemplated your words. Then, without looking at you, he muttered, "fine, then."

You'd laughed as you brushed it off as a joke, even though deep down you and Giyuu both knew that it was a promise made in all seriousness.

Still, life moved on, and the pact slipped into the back of your mind. The following year, you ended up losing your virginity to a guy you'd been seeing for a few months.

Obviously, you told Giyuu. Just like you always did. He'd been the first person you confided in about your first kiss, your first period, the first to hear all your secrets and milestones before you even thought about telling your parents.

But this time, his reaction caught you off guard. Normally, Giyuu was calm, indifferent, unshaken by even your most outrageous stories. Yet, as you casually told him the news, he went completely cold. His usually soft features hardened and his responses became clipped and distant, like you'd done something to upset him.

"Are you... mad at me?" you'd asked, half-joking but undeniably uneasy. You couldn't shake the feeling that something was deeply wrong.

"No," he replied flatly, jaw clenched as he avoided your gaze.

"You sure?" You pressed, searching his face for a crack in his armor.

"I'm fine," he said firmly, ending the conversation before it could go any further.

It was the first time you'd seen him so irritated with you, and it made you worry. Giyuu wasn't the type to get openly angry or frustrated—especially not with you.

He wouldn't tell you what was wrong, no matter how much you pushed. And eventually, you stopped trying to get answers. But from that day on, you made a silent vow to yourself: no more rambling to Giyuu about your romantic or sexual ventures. Some things were better left unsaid.

However, Giyuu's curiosity got the better of him one particular time: the night of your high school graduation.

"Why'd you break up with Shinazugawa?" he'd asked, adjusting his tie in the full-length mirror of your room.

You paused, giving him a surprised look through the reflection. “…Why're you asking that now? It’s been months.”

He shrugged, feigning indifference. “Curious, I guess." In truth, he was curious. You and Sanemi had lasted almost six months—longer than any of your previous relationships. He couldn’t help but wonder why you’d ended things when everything seemed to be going so well.

"Well," you sighed, patting your beauty blender against your cheek as you leaned closer to your vanity mirror. "Because of the way he talks about you." you explained, exasperated.

Giyuu blinked, his hands freezing mid-motion as he turned to look at you. "Huh?"

"He's fucking rude," you scoffed, rolling your eyes. "I told him from the start that we couldn’t date unless he was okay with us being friends, and I wholeheartedly meant it. But the second I mentioned you? Instant attitude."

Giyuu's eyebrows furrowed slightly. "What did he say?"

"Doesn't matter," you muttered, waving him off. "The point is, he's a prick I should've never wasted any time with."

For a moment, he just stood there, watching you blend your makeup with practiced ease, your words settling over him like a warm blanket. You hadn't even seemed to think twice about it, choosing him over your boyfriend as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"...Thank you," he said quietly, his voice so soft you almost missed it.

You glanced at him through the mirror, catching the faint blush that dusted the tips of his ears. "Don't thank me," you replied with a soft smile. "You mean more to me than any of those dumb guys."

Giyuu rolled his eyes, trying to hide the fluttering in his chest as he tightened his tie with an  unnecessary force. "And why do you only go for dumb guys?"

You frowned, picking up a tube of lipgloss. "The real question is why they're the only ones that approach me." Tilting your head, you gazed at him with a wistful look. "I wish they were more like you," you murmured.

You didn't notice the way his hands stilled again, nor the faint flush that crept up his cheeks. He cleared his throat, turning back to the mirror.

"They still wouldn't deserve you," he muttered under his breath, barely audible.

"Hm?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow as you looked over your shoulder.

"Nothing," he said quickly, reaching for his cap and gown spread out on your bed. "We're going to be late."

Smiling, you brushed off his odd behavior, setting down your lipgloss and grabbing your heels. "Fine, let's go."

But even as you walked out the door, Giyuu's thoughts lingered on your words.

I wish they were more like you.

━

The beginning of college brought with it a whirlwind of changes for both you and Giyuu. You attended the same school, so the two of you decided to save money and move into a cozy apartment together.

The apartment was small, but homey enough for the two of you. There was a shared bathroom between the two bedrooms, a cramped kitchen that you somehow made work, and a living room where you would often curl up on the couch after long days of classes or work.

Despite the small space, you quickly slipped into familiar patterns. Giyuu was a morning person, usually up before the sun, while you preferred to sleep in and stay out late. You'd often stumble out of your room in the late morning, finding him already making breakfast or buried in his textbooks.

You would both go about your routines, respecting each other's space, and somehow, it was like nothing had really changed. Giyuu was still the quiet, composed person you knew, and you were still the loud, energetic one.

But there was a subtle shift, a tension that started to build over time. You started to see Giyuu in.. a different way. You couldn't tell if it was because you'd finally stopped suppressing thoughts you'd always had, or if it was because you were watching him grow from a socially awkward teenager into a more gentle, confident adult.

There was an unspoken understanding between you that neither of you addressed directly, but the lines between friendship and something more began to blur the longer you lived together.

Giyuu's 21st birthday arrived with a mix of anticipation and excitement, and it was clear from the start that he didn't want much fuss about it.

You knew him too well by now, his preference for quiet evenings over anything resembling a party. But 21 was a big deal, and you weren't going to let it slip by unnoticed, no matter how much he grumbled about it.

The party was at your apartment, living room adorned with streamers and balloons, the tiny kitchen bursting with treats. You invited only a few of your mutual friends, knowing a crowd would make him squirm.

It was supposed to be low-key, and that's exactly how you pitched it to him. You bought a cake, a couple of cases of his favorite beer, and told him you were keeping it small.

As Giyuu searched through the playlist in the living room, you took the opportunity to slip away and get dressed in your room.

Your fingers fumbled with the delicate zipper of your silk black minidress, the fabric soft against your skin. Lace detailing adorned the bust, and you paired it with dainty gold jewelry.

"Yuu!" you called out, your voice slightly muffled as you struggled to zip up the dress.

An exasperated sigh escaped your lips when it caught halfway. You glanced over your shoulder, seeing your best friend standing in the doorway, a deep flush spread across his cheeks as his eyes roamed over your exposed back.

"Sorry, could you help me zip this up?" you asked, trying to suppress a smile.

"Oh, sure," he murmured, stepping closer to you.

"Thanks," you hummed, turning around and facing your mirror as he stood behind you. His fingers brushed against your skin as he carefully zipped up the dress, the warmth of his touch making you hold your breath for a moment. The silence hung between you two, both of you aware of the closeness.

Once he finished, he stepped back, his eyes lingering on your reflection in the mirror for a second longer than necessary. "You look nice."

You smiled at the compliment, turning to him as your gaze traveled down his outfit. It was simple—an oversized black graphic hoodie paired with dark blue baggy jeans. "So do you," you said, a playful glint in your eyes.

Giyuu ran a hand through his long hair, shyly averting his gaze. "You're leaving it down?" you asked, eyes narrowing as you took in the silkiness of his dark strands.

He shook his head and reached for a hairtie on his wrist. As he raised his arms to tie his hair into a low bun, you caught a glimpse of his toned torso before he turned to leave.

He glanced over his shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching upward as he rolled his eyes at your playful pout. Opening the fridge, he pulled out a cold can of beer, the can crinkling as he cracked it open.

"Hey, Giyuu," you called, "You remember that deal we made? Junior year?" you asked, slowly making your way into the kitchen.

Giyuu's eyes widened ever so slightly, then he turned to you, masking his surprise with his usual stoic expression. "What deal?"

A sly smirk tugged at your lips as you leaned over the counter, rummaging through one of the kitchen drawers. "The one about our virginities," you added casually, making sure to glance up at him. You could already see the subtle flush creeping up his neck.

"Oh," he mumbled, his voice faltering as he quickly brought the beer can to his lips, taking a long sip to avoid your gaze. "That?"

"That," you echoed, as though it was the most normal thing in the world. You found what you were looking for and closed the drawer with a soft click, then turned to face him fully. "Is it still on?"

Giyuu took a step back, leaning against the counter, his gaze dropping to the floor as he shifted uneasily. You moved closer, feeling the tension between you two building with every inch you closed.

"Do you.. want it to be?" he whispered, his grip tightening around the can.

You nodded silently, your lips curving into a small smile. The air between you seemed to thicken, your presence commanding his full attention. "But, it's your call."

He gulped as you reached behind you, pulling out a shiny tiara—silver with blue gems that sparkled in the light. It glimmered as you placed it gently on his head, reading "BIRTHDAY GIRL".

His breath hitched as his eyes flickered down to meet yours. You could see the internal struggle in the slight tremble of his fingers, but there was a hunger in his eyes, a desire that mirrored your own.

Before Giyuu could respond, the door to your apartment suddenly burst open with an almost comical force.

"Shit— I didn't lock it—" you muttered, but the sentence was cut off by the loud voices of your friends Kyojuro and Tengen. They stormed into the kitchen with enthusiasm, greeting the birthday boy like they hadn't seen him in ages.

"Happy birthday, Tomioka!" Kyojuro exclaimed, his bright smile lighting up the room, while Tengen gave Giyuu a friendly hug.

A group of their friends followed, chatting and laughing, completely oblivious to the tension that had just existed between you two. You sighed, amused but a little frustrated by the timing, casting Giyuu a knowing glance. "Later," you mouthed, the promise clear, before turning your attention to the guests.

For now, whatever was brewing between you and Giyuu would have to wait. The music cranked up a notch, drinks began circulating, and the lively atmosphere of a party took over your apartment.

Parties had never been Giyuu's scene. The idea of being crammed into a hot, noisy space with a bunch of drunk strangers was more torturous than entertaining to him. The thought of anyone willingly signing up for such chaos baffled him.

Which was why, when he did attend a party, the night often ended with you holding his hair back while he dry-heaved over the toilet. It had become an unfortunate tradition, one you were determined to avoid tonight. After all, it was his birthday, and you wanted him to enjoy it.

You kept a subtle eye on him from the kitchen, monitoring his drink count like a hawk. Thankfully, Giyuu was nothing if not responsible, so you weren't too concerned.

Your lips curved into a soft smile as you watched him from across the room. He was standing near Mitsuri and Obanai, his usual reserved demeanor softened as he laughed at one of her jokes. College had done him good, coaxing him out of his shell and introducing him to people who clearly cared about him.

"Having fun?" Tengen's voice broke through your thoughts. He leaned casually against the counter beside you, his broad shoulders brushing yours as he gave you a grin.

"Of course I am," you replied, lifting your cup to your lips. The drink burned as it slid down your throat, a sensation you'd come to appreciate.

"I'm glad," he hummed, reaching for the bottle of Hennessy beside you. His hand brushed your waist as he gently nudged you aside, his touch lingering just long enough to make you uneasy. "I've missed you."

You stepped to the side, swirling the drink in your cup as you kept your gaze low. You knew exactly where this conversation was heading. "I thought we talked about this," you murmured, your tone quiet but firm.

Tengen wasn't one to back down so easily. His fingers found their way under your chin, tilting your head up so you were forced to meet his eyes. "I can't get enough of you," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek in a way that might've once made you falter.

You let out a sigh, glancing briefly toward the living room where Giyuu sat on the couch with Shinobu. His soft smile stirred something in you that had nothing to do with the alcohol. Turning back to Tengen, you said bluntly, "I told you. I have no interest in fucking you anymore."

His hand dropped to his side, though his composure remained intact, as if rejection was a game he'd learned to play long ago. A smirk played at his lips as he leaned casually against the counter, the bottle now in his hand. "You're into Tomioka, aren't you?" he asked, his tone casual.

You rolled your eyes, your patience wearing thin. "What's it to you?"

He tilted his head, his grin widening as if he'd just uncovered a secret. "You could have anyone you want. Why haven't you gone for him all these years?"

Your scoff was sharp as you turned away from him, irritation prickling at your skin. "None of your fucking business," you spat. Before Tengen could press further, you raised your voice, addressing the group. "Y'all down for Charades?"

Mitsuri clapped her hands excitedly. "Let's do teams! Losers take shots!"

Cheers rang throughout the living room, washing away the lingering tension from the kitchen. You slipped away from the conversation, taking a seat on the couch beside Kyojuro, grateful for the shift in energy.

Shinobu moved with precision, pouring shots into an assortment of glasses lined up on the coffee table. "Rules are simple," she declared, her tone almost too sweet to be trusted. "One minute per turn. If your team can't guess, you all drink."

Drunk Charades was a beloved tradition in your friend group, despite you and Giyuu's shared distaste for overindulgence. Somehow, though, it was always fun with this group.

Teams formed quickly: you, Obanai, and Kyojuro on one side, while Giyuu, Mitsuri, and Tengen joined forces on the other. Shinobu naturally declared herself gamemaster, already scribbling prompts down.

Giyuu went first, his cheeks tinged pink as the group chanted "Birthday boy!" when he stood. Shinobu handed him a slip of paper with a sly smile.

His brows furrowed as he read the prompt, glancing at her in clear confusion. She only shrugged, eyes fixed on the timer on her phone. "One minute starts now."

He hesitated, then raised his arms in a wide circle above his head. "Circle? Sun! Clock!" Mitsuri guessed eagerly, practically bouncing off the couch.

Giyuu's frown deepened as he repeated the motion with more emphasis. "It's clearly a halo," Tengen said smugly, giving Mitsuri a teasing glance.

Shinobu shook her head. "You have thirty seconds," she announced smoothly.

With an exasperated sigh, Giyuu dropped his arms and began walking in place, taking slow, exaggerated steps. Realization hit you instantly, but you stayed quiet, secretly enjoying the show.

"Uh... giant?" Tengen tilted his head, increasingly lost.

"Oh! Oh!" Mitsuri gasped, clasping her hands together. "Astronaut!" Giyuu's eyes lit up, nodding vigorously before repeating the large circle motion with renewed desperation.

"Planet? Space?" Tengen guessed again, brows furrowed deeply. He opened his mouth to speak just as the timer buzzed loudly.

"Moon," Shinobu announced with far too much delight. Mitsuri groaned but took her shot without complaint, followed by the rest of her team.

Before anyone could reset, Kyojuro shot to his feet, practically snatching the slip of paper from Shinobu's hand. His eyes scanned the prompt before gleaming with excitement.

"Your minute starts now," she announced, setting the timer with a knowing smirk.

Without hesitation, Kyojuro mimed sweeping your floor, pausing only to wipe imaginary sweat from his brow.

"Sweeping? Maid?" Obanai guessed, one brow arching as he crossed his arms skeptically.

He shook his head fervently, shifting tactics. He twirled in place, pretending to wear a ballgown. The"dance" was so dramatic that even Giyuu let out a quiet chuckle.

"Dress? Princess?" Obanai tried again, clearly reaching.

"Thirty seconds," Shinobu reminded, resting her chin in her hands.

With an exasperated roll of his eyes, Kyojuro dropped to one knee, pretending to slip on a shoe.

"What the fuck," Obanai muttered, utterly baffled.

You couldn't hold back a laugh. "Oh shit—Cinderella!"

"Correct," Shinobu confirmed, stopping the timer. "That one was too easy."

"That was ridiculous," Obanai muttered, but even he couldn't hide his faint amusement.

The game spiraled as the drinks began to take their toll, and the room descended into a blur of laughter, slurred accusations, and a few questionable rule changes. At one point, Tengen insisted that charades could "absolutely allow sound effects," sparking a hilariously heated debate that ended with everyone taking a shot "just because."

Shinobu and Giyuu somehow remained composed, though her smirk suggested she enjoyed the chaos she'd created. Meanwhile, Mitsuri and Kyojuro had surrendered to helpless fits of giggles, practically falling over each other as they struggled through increasingly ridiculous prompts.

The final round ended with Mitsuri acting as a ballerina, her body balanced perfectly as she performed a skilled pirouette, earning a standing ovation. You leaned back, your head resting gently against the couch as the group's laughter echoed through the room. The warmth wrapped around you like a blanket, blending perfectly with the hum of music playing in the background.

Without thinking, your gaze drifted across the room, finding Giyuu. The soft flush on his cheeks from the alcohol gave him an uncharacteristically vulnerable look, but his eyes were steady, their usual calm tinged with something you couldn't quite place.

Slowly, you tore your gaze from Giyuu, shifting your attention to Tengen as he stood, dragging a very unsteady Kyojuro up with him. "I should get this dumbass home," he grunted, looping an arm securely around the blonde's torso to keep him upright.

Obanai gave a curt nod, helping Mitsuri into her coat. "Same here." Turning to Giyuu, he muttered, "Happy birthday."

"Bye, Y/n! Bye, Tomioka!" Mitsuri chirped, her words slurring slightly as she waved enthusiastically, her bright smile as infectious as ever.

Giyuu nodded in acknowledgment, rising to his feet to see them off. Meanwhile, Shinobu had already started tidying up, gathering the shotglasses from the coffee table as you picked up stray papers and empty cans.

"This was really fun, Y/n," she said with a soft smile as she washed the glasses in the sink.

You glanced over with a small grin of your own. "Thanks. I'm glad Giyuu even let me throw him a party."

Giyuu, reentering the room just as you spoke, rolled his eyes. "I heard that."

"Good," you shot back, sticking your tongue out playfully as you balled up a paper towel and tossed it into the trash.

Shinobu giggled at the exchange, slipping into her shoes near the door. "Goodnight, you two," she said warmly before turning to Giyuu. "And happy birthday, Tomioka."

"Thanks," he replied softly, walking her to the door and locking it behind her as she left.

With the apartment now quiet, the stillness hung in the air as Giyuu leaned awkwardly against the wall, his gaze fixed on the floor. It was obvious he was waiting for you to address the unspoken tension between you—whatever the fuck you'd meant when you brought up that deal from junior year.

"Hey, Giyuu," you sighed, bringing a hand up to rub your temple, the weight of your earlier words pressing heavily on your chest.

He straightened slightly at the sound of your voice, his gaze meeting yours as he looked at you.

"I'm sorry if I made things weird by asking you that earlier," you murmured, your voice quieter now. "You probably want to lose your virginity to someone special, and I totally get that. I—" You paused, realizing how much you were rambling. "I shouldn't have brought it up."

Your lips parted to apologize, but the words caught in your throat when you noticed Giyuu had moved. He was in front of you, his tall frame close enough that you had to tilt your head upwards to meet his eyes.

His voice was barely above a whisper as he said, "You are special."

Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly shook your head, feeling your cheeks heat. "Not like that, Giyuu. I mean—"

Before you could finish, he took a step closer. "I want it to be with you," he interrupted, his voice firm.

The moment the words left his mouth, his eyes widened, shocked by his own confession.

You stared at him, your jaw slack, the weight of his admission rendering you momentarily speechless. "You do?" you finally managed, your voice almost a whisper.

He nodded, and a soft smile curved your lips. Wordlessly, you reached up, your arms draping loosely around his shoulders. His gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again, darkened with need.

"Kiss me, Giyuu," you whispered, and that was all it took. His hands found your waist, gripping you firmly as he pulled you closer. Your lips met in a heated kiss, his eagerness surprising you.

It slightly uncoordinated at first—hesitant movements revealing his lack of experience and the slight haze of alcohol clouding your thoughts. But you quickly took the lead, your fingers tangling in his soft hair as you deepened the kiss, tilting your head to guide him.

As your bodies pressed together, you pushed him gently, steering him backward until his back hit his bedroom door with a soft thud.

You broke the kiss for just a moment, both of you breathing heavily. His arms encircled your waist, holding you close as his eyes searched yours, running his tongue over his lips.

You couldn't stand the distance for long. Your lips met his again, more urgent this time, pouring every unspoken feeling into the kiss. He smiled against your mouth, his lips moving against yours in a way that sent warmth rushing through your entire body.

One of his hands left your waist, fumbling for the door handle. When it finally clicked open, he pulled you both inside, his other hand never letting go of you.

Your heart hammered against your ribcage as the door shut behind you with a quiet click. You couldn't believe what was happening—what you were doing.

You were about to have sex with your lifelong best friend.

The very thought made your head spin. No matter how many times you'd secretly imagined it, you never thought the night would actually come.

Giyuu, meanwhile, was a tangle of emotions. The sensation of your lips against his sent waves of desire coursing through him, but there was also a deep sense of nostalgia.

Because this wasn't the first time your lips had met his.

You probably didn't remember, but Giyuu never forgot. After your senior prom, he'd walked you to your doorstep. You'd gone as friends, and the evening had been fun, uncomplicated—until he parked in front of your house. Before getting out, you'd paused, turned toward him, and thanked him for being such a good friend. Then, you'd leaned over the console and kissed him softly on his lips.

A giddy smile lit your face as you rushed out of his black honda civic, leaving him stunned in the aftermath. You'd never mentioned it again, and neither had he, though he replayed it countless times in his mind. Funny how you had been his first everything.

When he reluctantly pulled away, his eyes remained closed for a moment longer, as if clinging to the warmth of your lips. When he finally opened them, they were half-lidded, adjusting to the soft, dim glow of his room.

Slowly, your hands trailed down his chest, your touch leaving a trail of heat in its wake. You gave him a gentle push, guiding him onto the bed. He sank into the mattress, his eyes glued to you as you swung a leg over to straddle his hips. His breathing grew uneven the moment you settled over his thighs, the feeling of you on top of him making his body tense.

"Giyuu," you murmured, your voice dripping with sultry warmth.

He swallowed hard, his adam's apple bobbing as he met your gaze.

"You really want this?" you asked, tilting your head as your fingers slid into his hair. You tugged the tie loose, letting the strands spill over your hands like silk.

His eyes fluttered shut briefly before reopening, his dark irises locking onto yours with a mix of nervousness and need. "Y/n, just—" He hesitated, searching for the right words. "Just.. keep kissing me. Please."

Without another word, you leaned down, capturing his lips with yours. As you shifted slightly, pressing against his growing erection, he gasped, and you took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, your tongue slipping past his parted lips.

Your fingers tenderly cradled his face, your touch both firm and reassuring. One of his hands gripped your waist, while the other buried itself in your hair, tugging just enough to send a shiver down your spine.

As your hips shifted again, a low, breathy groan escaped him, reverberating through your chest. The sound sent a pulse of heat straight to your core, spurring you on. You let your hands trail down his chest, slipping under his hoodie to explore the hard lines of muscle beneath.

"Take it off," you whispered, sitting up to look down at him. His eyes were dark, lips swollen from your kisses. He moved up slightly, gripping the fabric of his hoodie and pulling it over his head in one swift motion. The pale skin of his chest was exposed, glistening with a light sheen of sweat.

He quickly tossed it elsewhere and returned his hands to your waist, pulling you closer to him. A smile spread across your face at his obedience, admiring the way his chest rose and fell with each shaky breath, your fingers grazing lightly over his skin. Leaning down, you pressed a trail of featherlight kisses along his collarbone, your lips brushing against his skin with a deliberate softness.

His fingertips dug into your sides as he hissed softly, his hips instinctively bucking against you. The friction drew a needy whine from your throat, your breaths coming in quick, shallow bursts. Lifting your head, you murmured, "You can touch me, y'know."

His chest rose and fell rapidly. "I am touching you," he panted, voice strained.

You shook your head, guiding his hands higher up your body until they rested just below your chest. "You can touch me more, Giyuu."

His eyes darkened with hunger as he sat up, pulling you snugly onto his lap, his back pressing against the headboard. His breath ghosted over your skin as his hands wrapped around your breasts, hesitating for only a moment before giving them an experimental squeeze.

"Is this.. okay?" he breathed, thumbs brushing over your hardened nipples through the thin fabric of your dress.

A wave of heat rushed through you, your heart pounding as you nodded. "Yeah." Your hands slid up his arms, steadying yourself. "Want it off?"

He couldn't resist a chance to see more of your body. "Yes," he breathed back.

Giyuu pushed you against him with one hand while the other found the zipper of your dress. He tugged it downwards, revealing the smooth expanse of your bare back. Your fingers gripped the hem of the dress as you pulled it off your body, silently grateful for your decision not to wear a bra.

Giyuu's eyes widened as they raked over your nearly naked form. "Fuck," he muttered, not knowing where to look. You watched him as he studied your body, from the curves of your breasts to the smoothness of your stomach, down to your hips covered only by black lace panties.

He felt like cumming from the sight alone, how the hell would he be able to fuck you?

Your lips met again, bare chests pressed together as your mouths moved in a heated, breathless rhythm. Giyuu's hands slid from your waist to grab at your ass, kneading the soft flesh as you whimpered into the kiss.

Your arms wrapped around his torso, savoring the warmth of his skin as you tilted your head to deepen the kiss. Rolling your hips against his, you felt him shudder. He broke the kiss with a sharp inhale, breath coming in uneven pants.

You pressed soft kisses along his neck, drawing a quiet, needy sound from his throat. Your hand trailed down between you, pressing against his erection, igniting a fire within him that he had never felt before.

As you sucked on a spot on his collarbone, you moved your hand up and down his length, gauging the size of it. Pulling back slightly, you slid off his lap, positioning yourself between his legs. He watched you, chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. He already missed the warmth of your body pressed against his, but the anticipation of what was coming next had him captivated.

"Can I?" you asked softly, your fingers lingering over the zip of his jeans.

He quickly nodded, making you smirk at his eagerness. His bulge straining against the fabric was impossible to ignore, aching for release under your touch.

With impatient hands, you wasted no time in unzipping his jeans and tugging them down along with his boxers. Your breath caught as his cock was freed, standing proud against his abdomen. For a moment, all you could do was stare, your cheeks warming as you let out a shaky exhale. It was perfect.

You'd been with a lot of guys, but none of them even compared to Giyuu. His skin was soft, tip flushed a delicate pink that contrasted beautifully against the rest of him. The sight alone sent a pulse of heat through you, and you licked your lips, your gaze locked on him.

"Giyuu," you murmured, your hand wrapping firmly around him.

His whole body tensed, a shuddering gasp escaping as he bit down on his lip, trying and failing to muffle the sound.

"Have you ever gotten your dick sucked before?" you asked, your hand moving in a slow, deliberate rhythm along his length.

Giyuu shook his head, tilting it back as a shaky breath escaped him. He'd never been in this position before, especially not with you.

"Good," you smiled, leaning forward, letting a bead of saliva fall from your lips and onto his swollen tip. The sight alone had him whimpering, his hips twitching reflexively. The moisture slicked your hand, making every stroke smoother as you worked him over.

Then, you took him into your mouth, lips wrapping around his cock. Giyuu's reaction was immediate, a low, guttural groan tearing from his throat as his head fell back against the headboard. "Fuck—" he choked out, his hands gripping the sheets tightly.

You hollowed your cheeks, taking him deeper, and his hips bucked involuntarily. The sudden thrust made you gag, and you pulled back, coughing slightly.

Giyuu's eyes shot open in panic. "Shit- I'm so sorry," he blurted out, I didn't m-"

"Shh," you hushed, placing a calming hand on his thigh. "It's okay," you reassured, your voice soft and steady. Your other hand resumed its slow, deliberate strokes, eyes locked on his. "You can hold me if that helps."

He hesitated for a moment before lifting a hand, fingers trembling slightly as they cupped your face. His thumb brushed a stray strand of hair from your eyes. You leaned into his palm briefly before lowering yourself again, your mouth returning to his dick.

You teased him, swirling your tongue around his sensitive head, savoring the soft, broken moans that spilled from his lips. His hand slid into your hair, not pushing, but simply holding on as if you were his lifeline.

"Y/n," he gasped, his voice strained and breathless. "I'm gonna—fuck—" His breaths came faster, his body trembling as he teetered on the edge. His cock twitched in your mouth, but just as he was about to lose control, you stopped, lifting your head up.

Giyuu let out a strangled groan, his chest heaving as he tried to steady his breathing. One hand dragged over his flushed face while the other remained fisted in the sheets.

"Sorry, Yuu," you cooed sweetly, crawling back onto his lap. Your hands cupped his flushed cheeks, guiding his gaze to yours. His wide, dazed eyes met your own, filled with unspoken desire. "I want us to cum together," you murmured, slowly pressing your lips to his.

He moaned into the kiss, the taste of himself mixing with your saliva as you tilted his head how you pleased. His hands roamed your back, tracing slow, deliberate paths along your skin. One hand slid lower, hooking into the waistband of your panties and tugging them down your legs.

You lifted slightly to let him pull them off entirely, tossing them aside. Together, you worked to rid him of the last of his clothing, his pants and underwear joining the growing pile on the floor. Now, with nothing between you, the heat of his body melded with yours.

You pressed your core against him, your wet folds sliding over his cock. A gasp escaped your lips as you began to roll your hips, his length gliding between your slickness, the head brushing your clit with each pass. Giyuu tilted his head back, nails digging into your hip as you continued your slow movements.

"D-don't we need a condom?" he stammered out, his voice shaky as his hands held you still.

"I'm on the pill," you assured, meeting Giyuu's gaze as he opened his eyes. "Plus, it feels better this way," you added.

Giyuu gulped, his Adam's apple bobbing at your words. "You trust me?" you asked softly, tilting your head as your lips brushed his.

"Of course," he replied without hesitation.

You hummed, your hand trailing down his body, fingers brushing over heated skin until they reached his straining cock. His breath hitched as you positioned yourself above him, guiding his tip to your slick entrance. "I'll go slow" you murmured, sinking down onto him.

Giyuu whimpered your name, his head falling back against the headboard, lips parted in a breathless moan. His grip on you tightened as his hips trembled beneath yours. You felt so good—too good—and he could barely think past the haze of lust clouding his mind.

"Fuck," you cursed, nails digging into his shoulders when he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that left you gasping. You dropped your head into the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by the sensation.

Slowly, you moved your hips up and down, Giyuu's soft moans spurring you on. There was the slight sting of feeling stretched at every movement, but the pain was almost welcomed.

His nails dug into the flesh of your ass, guiding you gently as you moved. When his tip grazed that perfect spot deep inside, a breathless moan escaped you, and your hips rolled instinctively, seeking more of that intoxicating pressure.

You sat up slightly, half-lidded eyes meeting his as you leaned in for a slow, lingering kiss. His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you closer as his hips bucked up to meet your rhythm. His tongue tangled with yours, the kiss growing deeper, more desperate.

A low hum of pleasure vibrated against his mouth as your arms snaked around his shoulders, pressing yourself against him as you continued to move back and forth on his lap.

Breaking from the kiss, Giyuu trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses down your jaw and neck, his breath hot against your skin. "Don't stop.. feels... so good," he choked out between breaths.

You whimpered, tilting your head back to give him better access as your legs locked around his waist. The pleasure was electric, each deep thrust sending bursts of stars behind your closed eyelids.

Giyuu's lips trailed lower, wrapping around your nipple as he sucked gently, drawing a sharp cry from your lips. Instinctively, you began to bounce harder on him, fingers tangling in his dark hair. He groaned, eyebrows knitting together as his tongue flicked over your sensitive bud, his nails pressing deeper into your skin.

Your legs began to tremble, overwhelmed by the increasing pleasure. Giyuu panted, guiding your hips as he rolled his own upward, grinding into you with deep, deliberate strokes. A desperate moan escaped both of your lips, and you couldn't help but cling closer to him, your grip tightening in his hair.

"Fuck," he moaned quietly, his glossy, dark eyes looking up at you in admiration and need. "Can I move?"

"Please," you whined.

Giyuu lifted you effortlessly, turning you over and laying you gently onto the soft mattress. His hands caressed your thighs as he hovered above you, his heated gaze tracing every curve of your body.

Using one arm to prop himself up, his hair fell like a curtain around you. "This okay?" he asked, running his tip between your folds to find your entrance once more.

"More than," you breathed, relaxing under his warm sheets and soft breaths.

You kept your gaze locked with each other's as he pushed himself inside, drawing a soft gasp from your lips. His eyes were lidded, pupils blown and cheeks flushed as a shaky breath escaped him, savoring the way your body held him so perfectly. You were so wet that he slid in with ease, allowing him to pull out before sliding back in.

For the first time, Giyuu understood why people craved this kind of intimacy. He'd never felt anything this good in his life. His lips found yours in a languid kiss, moving in sync with his gentle thrusts. Warmth bloomed in his chest, though he couldn't tell if it was from the physical pleasure or because it was you beneath him.

Despite it being his first time, every slow, deliberate thrust found your sweet spot, making you arch into him, fingers digging into his back. He groaned into your mouth, his hips stuttering against yours.

You hiked your legs higher up his torso, feeling him deeper inside you. Pulling away just enough to catch his breath, he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning over your skin as he whispered breathless praises.

"Oh, fuck- Giyuu-" you moaned, your back arching in pleasure as he continued to thrust into you with increasing speed. Your nails dug into his skin, scraping red trails down his back as a wet, squelching noise resonated from where your bodies were connected.

With one well-placed thrust, your release hit you like a wave, body trembling as he fucked you through your orgasm. Giyuu lifted his head to watch you in awe as you twitched and writhed beneath him.

You gasped, eyes rolling back in ecstasy as you felt his fingers against your clit, messily toying with the bundle of nerves. You panted and rolled your hips up against him, unable to hold back any longer as you squirted onto his hand and abdomen.

Giyuu's eyes shot open, feeling your slick warmth coating his skin, and before he knew it, he was cumming as well, his seed spurting out within your walls. He let out a whiny, cracked moan, his head dipping into your neck as he thrusted lazily inside you.

When he finished, he slowly pulled out, watching with wide pupils as his and your cum dripped from your quivering entrance. Panting, he laid down beside you, arms wrapping around your waist and pulling you close against his warm chest. "Thank you," he whispered, pressing a kiss to your forehead before burying his face in the top of your head.

"Don't thank me," you hummed softly, closing your eyes as you leaned closer to him. "I loved it."

You and Giyuu weren't dating—weren't in love. (At least, not openly.) Yet somehow, what had just happened between you was far from casual. No matter how many excuses you tried to make, friends don't make love to each other.

After a few moments of shared silence, catching your breath and grounding yourself, you sat up. A soft yawn escaped your lips as you stretched your arms over your head before slipping out of bed.

Reaching down, you grabbed your panties from the floor, pulling them back on as you made your way to Giyuu's dresser. The sound of shifting sheets caught your attention, and when you turned, you found him sitting up, brows drawn together in concern. "Aren't you staying?"

A warm smile spread across your lips as you pulled one of his t-shirts from the drawer and slipped it over your head. "Of course I am," you reassured him gently. "I'm just going to the bathroom."

True to your word, you returned a moment later to find him still in bed. He had pulled on his boxers but was otherwise the same—his eyes following your every move, lingering briefly on the faint red crescent marks now visible on your ass. His gaze flickered up to meet yours, his expression unreadable.

Climbing back into bed, you settled yourself on his lap, straddling him as his hands instinctively found your hips. "Giyuu," you started softly, your voice tinged with uncertainty, "is this.. a one-time thing?"

His lips pressed into a slight frown, and his brows furrowed as he considered your words. For a moment, his eyes flickered with an emotion you couldn't quite name—Worry? Hope? Fear? "Do you want it to be?" he asked cautiously, his voice low and hesitant.

You shook your head, your voice steady but shy as you answered, "No."

His surprise deepened, blue eyes searching yours for confirmation. Nervously, you lowered your gaze to his chest, tracing aimless patterns with your fingertips. "I've liked you for a while, Giyuu," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper.

He froze beneath you. "What?"

"Years," you confessed, forcing yourself to look up and meet his wide-eyed stare. "I've always known you weren't just a friend to me, but I didn't want to risk ruining what we had." You paused, swallowing hard. "But what we just did... friends don't do that."

His lips parted as though to speak, but no words came out. Instead, his hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your face up to his as he leaned in. The kiss was tender, a quiet answer to your unspoken fears.

He shifted, rolling you beneath him, lips trailing a path from your mouth to your jawline, and down the curve of your neck, stopping just above the collar of his t-shirt.

When his gaze met yours again, the genuine smile lighting up his face made your heart flutter. His fingers laced with yours, while your other hand rested on his back, tracing the faint lines of the scratches you'd left there.

"I don't want this to be a one-time thing either," he said softly, his voice carrying a rare but unmistakable confidence. "I want to be yours... and for you to be mine."

A grin spread across your face at his words, and you tugged him down for another kiss, your heart hammering.

"Mhm," you hummed against his lips, "I'm yours, Giyuu."

━

Giyuu frowned deeply when he woke up to an empty bed, the lingering warmth on your side already faded.

His mind spiraled instantly. Did you regret last night? He gnawed on his lower lip, his chest tightening at the thought.

Turning onto his back, he exhaled slowly, staring at the ceiling. A grim scenario played out in his head—you'd be in the living room, already packing your things, deciding that sleeping together had been a mistake, that living together wasn't a good idea after all.

Running a hand down his face, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the thought away. He was about to roll over and bury himself back under the sheets when a loud thud echoed from the kitchen.

He bolted upright, hastily pulling on a pair of sweatpants before heading toward the noise.

His eyebrows lifted in surprise as he found you crouched on the kitchen floor, a conflicted expression on your face while you picked up a fallen pancake griddle.

Your eyes widened when you noticed him standing in the doorway, heat rushing to your cheeks. "Oh... good morning, Giyuu," you mumbled shyly, glancing away.

He surveyed the scene, spotting the stool you must've used to reach the high shelf. Realization dawned on him. "What are you doing?" he asked, tilting his head.

You sighed, placing the griddle on the counter, still avoiding his gaze. "I wanted to make us breakfast..." you murmured, your tone a bit sheepish.

Giyuu exhaled a quiet laugh, the corners of his lips lifting into a fond smile. "You don't have to do that. We both know you can't cook." He teased, walking towards you.

"Screw you." You scoffed, crossing your arms with a frown. "I wanted to do something nice for you."

"You already have," he said softly, stepping closer. He gently took your wrist, turning you toward him. "How about I take you out? To thank you for everything."

Your eyes met his, getting lost in the warmth of his azure gaze before they flicked downward, landing on the faint bruises blooming on his neck—bruises you had left.

"Fine," you relented, leaning in just a bit. "But I'm paying."

Giyuu chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into his embrace. "Like hell you are," he whispered, his lips brushing your temple. "You've done enough." He motioned around the room, where last night's decorations still hung throughout the apartment.

You smiled, your arms sliding around his bare waist as you rested your head against his chest. "I guess I can let you handle our first date."

He smirked down at you, pretty blue eyes twinkling with adoration. "Good," he murmured, capturing your lips in a sweet kiss.

Support me on Wattpad if you enjoyed it! I write fics there @/ilovehistor1a

[reinawritesstuff]

featuring: rindou haitani x reader notes: nothing but pure fluff, friends to lovers, and rindou learning how to decipher his own emotions

Summary: rindou discovering what love is and how the object of his affection happens to be you

Rindou couldn't explain how it all started or what it was about you made his feelings evolve into something more.

When he first met you, all he could say was that he felt indifferent and you seemed like every other person he ever met. You weren't a fighter apart from any gang, just a regular person who lived a life so different from his own. You didn't like violence nor could he say you were comfortable with seeing people getting hurt. It made sense to him why it was the way it was since you were essentially opposites with no chance of getting along.

It was like fate was mocking him by letting you two meet everywhere he went. Not only did he attend the same school as you - you were his classmate by complete chance, thus increasing the likelihood of him seeing you. All he could do was ignore you whenever you attempted to talk to him every morning before classes would start. Why? He didn’t know, but he also didn’t know why you were so nice to him either despite him ignoring you. He assumed at some point you would figure it out; maybe you did but chose to ignore it.

However, over time, he just couldn’t do it. You were nice and he could see it. He'd be an idiot to not see you were friendly because you genuinely wanted to be friends, and not someone approaching him with a hidden agenda. He already had enough of the unspoken competition between him and his brother. As much as he loved Ran, he grew tired of living in his shadow and just wanted to be his own person. 

“Why do you even bother with me? You know I deliberately ignored you right?” He remembered asking you one day when you both were eating ice cream together.

You looked over at him in surprise “Huh? What do you mean?”

“Like trying to befriend me and whatnot. I’ve never seen anyone as insistent as you” He responded to you nonchalantly, though he would see you huffing in the corner of his eye. “Well excuse me for bothering you with my friendship”

Rindou snorted at the sound of you complaining “I’m not complaining now that I know you. It’s just…” he paused before looking down “I’m used to people approaching me because they need my strength, or they’re just using me as a means to get to Ran and I didn’t know where you were in all of that.”

He was being insecure. He knew he was in the way he was second-guessing his relationship with you. He also knew that saying it would sound as if he was accusing you; but at the same time, he wanted to protect the Rindou in the future; the Rindou who would end up getting hurt the most.

After a moment of silence, he looked over at you to see you in deep thought of yourself. He took that silence as admittance and it did ache him until you opened your mouth. “You know Rindou…I get where you’re coming from, I do. If I were in your place, I probably would be feeling the same way too.” You said with a shrug before you smiled at him, “Can’t speak for others; but for me and I’ll be real now; if I wanted to befriend Ran, I just would’ve done that already.” You continued, greatly emphasizing the ‘if’. “I don’t see why I’d have to get through you to be his friend. Seems like a very roundabout way of doing things if you ask me. I wanted to get to know you because you seemed like a nice guy”

Rindou frowned and scrunched his eyebrows. “You are aware I’m in a gang, right? Unless your standards are that low” to which you nudged his shoulder with a chuckle. “Oh shut it. You know what I mean. As much as I don’t like the whole gang scene, I do like talking to you. I don’t like your taste in music either but I do like the way you get so passionate over it.”

Rindou scoffed as he nudged you right back “And now you’re bashing my taste in music? Has anyone ever told you that you suck at comforting someone?” You rolled your eyes as you laughed at him. “I never claimed to be good at it”

“Clearly”

“Oi!” You huffed at him as you ate the remainder of your ice cream. “The point is, even though we don’t have too many things in common, I still consider you a good friend. You don’t mince words. When you’re happy about something, you genuinely are, and I appreciate that about you.” You said softly, eyes averting away from him. “I feel comfortable around you enough that I can just be myself. It’s usually so hard to have that with people, but it feels so easy around you because you don’t judge.”

“I mean I judge your taste in music”

“Rindou, shut the fuck up. I’m trying to have a moment with you here”

“You certainly became more foul after meeting me” Rindou chuckled, his heart feeling lighter. He never knew how you did it but you always had a way of getting him to smile. When he looked over at you to throw in another jab, he could see the back of your neck and ears red. Were you feeling embarrassed? He never noticed it before but at that moment, you felt cute to him, not that he would ever admit it.

Over the months of getting to know you, he started noticing things about you: your taste in fashion; food you didn’t like and tried to discard secretly, hoping no one would notice; your tells when you were put in situations you weren’t comfortable it. He didn’t know how he noticed it and made those connections in his head, but he did. He once ordered something for you before you could even tell him you wanted it. It was weird, and he didn’t know what it was but he brushed it off as knowing you well enough.

Then there were days when he would feel bitter. He didn’t know if it was directed at you, but he noticed the trend that it always seemed to occur when you happened to be around other people. It was weird to him. Since when did he start feeling bitter about you having other friends? He had friends of his own who had friends of their own but he couldn’t really recall having similar feelings around them, so why was that the case with you?

One day he accidentally stumbled across someone confessing their feelings towards you, and seeing you getting flustered over it. From what normally should’ve been a situation where he would use it as leverage to tease you, he could only feel bitterness grow as he stormed off. Rindou chose to pretend like it never happened as he never once brought it up to you, so he never knew whether or not you were already dating that person.

It was until one day when you had awkwardly brought it up to him during lunch, as you laughed about it, a blush showing clearly across your face.“So are you dating that person now or what?” Rindou asked with an attempt to sound indifferent, trying to mask that bitterness festering again in him. “Oh no, I rejected them. While I did feel guilty, I just don’t see myself dating someone I don’t like.” Rindou’s ears perked up at your words as his heart once again felt lighter. “Oh really? That’s a shame” he responded, this time unable to hide a grin from his face. 

He didn’t know what those feelings were anymore. Was it only because he considers you as a friend or was it something else entirely? He remembered asking Ran one night, who only laughed at him and told him he’d figure it out eventually. Certainly no help there in giving him answers.

Heading into the cooler months, as the seasons changed from summer to fall, he still hadn’t figured anything out to his dismay. Damn Ran and his insistence to not tell him anything, yet did everything to make fun of him.

Rindou then heard a ding from his phone, snapping him out of his thoughts. He received a message from you asking him if he’d like to see the trees with you. He was amused at your timing, it was like you knew he was thinking about you. He responded with a ‘yes’ without hesitation.

The both of you had agreed to meet up at the park, and Rindou had arrived there momentarily so that he wouldn’t keep you waiting any longer. Upon reaching you, he was surprised to see you already there with coffee in hand for both of you. “You got here fast, and with coffee too?” He asked with a chuckle, taking the coffee from you. “I was already at the park when I messaged you, so when you said yes I figured I might as well get some coffee too as thanks.” Rindou hummed in response as he sipped his coffee. It was exactly how he preferred it.

As you both took a stroll around the park, he couldn’t help but chuckle at seeing how excited you were over the leaves changing color. “Does seeing trees make you that happy?” He asked with a tease. You shook your head with a sigh “Geez, it’s not just about the trees. It’s about appreciating the way it looks. It can be pretty to look at if you give it a chance.”

Rindou turned his head in the direction of the trees, staring at the leaves. Some of them were still green, but you could see them slowly transitioning into a vibrant orange. “Uh huh…I guess,” he said unimpressed by it. He wasn’t someone who cared for nature all that much, but he did it because you liked it. As he turned his head to speak to you, he couldn’t help but pause at seeing how enamored you almost seemed at the sight of the leaves. 

Just then, he saw a singular leaf fall from the tree and land directly on your head.  “Looks like you’re becoming one with nature already hmm?” He said with a laugh, as he plucked the leaf from your hair, handing it to you instead. His eyes widened as he saw your eyes light up, giving him a wide smile in return. He doesn’t recall seeing you make that face, but it got his heart racing to the point he felt like time had stopped.

Oh shit

Suddenly everything made sense to him at that very moment. What those feelings were. It was love, wasn’t it?

Rindou couldn’t help but smile now that he found his answer. Not only does he want to see you smile more, he wants to see you smile at him specifically.

“I do see the beauty in it now…” he said with a mumble, his ears turning red at him vocalizing it for the first time.

“Hey, Rin!” You called out to him, not hearing what he said earlier as you were distracted by the leaf. “I guess you could say it really is Fall huh?” you said with a grin on your lips.

Rindou let out a sigh hearing your attempt at making a pun, but that being said he still couldn’t help but smile at you.

You really can’t choose who you fall in love with huh?

[atzfilm]

— 『 𝐖𝐎𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐋; 𝐨𝐭8 』 [6] (M)

— 𝚠𝚘𝚗 • 𝚍𝚎𝚛 • 𝚠𝚊𝚕𝚕, adjective. having someone who serves as a pillar in your life, who offers a sturdy place to lean in times of trouble. somebody you find yourself thinking about constantly and are completely infatuated with.

❝humans were such strange creatures. wretched in their mere existence. none of the eight were ever truly interested in them until they found you. they just find. it strange that despite their status and rank, you'd rather spend time with your lover. that isn't much of a problem, though. one they can fix with ease.❞

〘ʏᴀɴᴅᴇʀᴇ, ᴍʏᴛʜ, ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ꜰᴀᴇʀɪᴇꜱ〙(m.list)

— pairing: ot8 x reader, mxm (this chapter); yeosang x reader, wooyoung x reader; 12.7k

— note: this is a yandere fic. sensitive topics such as manipulation, gaslighting, murder, and other topics involved with the genre. please heed the warnings and read this work of fiction while keeping this in mind.

CHAPTER WARNINGS: murder references, manipulation, blood, torture references, dark magic, lying, emotional turmoil, injuries, slight descriptions of gore, worship references (?), smut

Chapter 6

You've grown to notice that it is never truly cold in the forest around their home. It feels as if it’s a warm bubble, unaffected by outside elements. None of the faeries ever mention it, probably accustomed to the odd temperature. You yourself are not, jacket wrapped around your waist as you walk through the small path Yeosang has taken you on. His clothing is loose, steps gliding along the slow breeze. All of them are quiet when they walk, barely the sound of a leaf crunching beneath their feet. He does not move as fast as San did when you arrived. In fact, there's little space between you, his skin close to brushing against your own.

Since you have known him, he has been indifferent to your presence. Oftentimes mulling in silence whenever you two spent time together, or glued to whatever object was around at the time. Being alone with him didn't happen often – most occasions he'd have San tied to his side, fingers wrapped around his waist, moving where he moved. Or Wooyoung lingering around you. So you're quite surprised he even wants you out here alone with him. You aren't close at all.

“The house could be quite a nuisance,” he says softly, hand sliding in yours as you climb around a protruding rock. Now that you know he can feel what you're thinking, the coincidences of him answering your thoughts aren't so shocking anymore. You expect him to let go once you’ve steadied yourself but he doesn’t, fingers entwined. “Everyone is watching your every move. San unwilling to leave your side for even a breath,” he smiles, slightly toothy grin. “Now you know how I feel.”

“It’s like he’s attached. Each time I leave the room he follows,” you say, and Yeosang snorts, nodding.

“Seonghwa warned him that he is to keep his eye on you. None of us know when you’ll–” he snaps his fingers on his free hand– “Better to be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not going to do anything.” There’s little ground to defend yourself on, but still. You can barely remember what happened then. It was a life or death situation. You doubt it'd happen now. “Just don’t try to kill me or anything.”

“Is that a threat?” he teases, brow raised. “Not to worry. I doubt any of us would do such a thing. We have morals, you know. Even as Unseelie.”

“San was explaining that to me. Between the chaos there is comfort. I can see it when you're around each other. You tease, but you do care. In different ways.”

“We do. Our inane element of chaos is fairly simple. We reign terror on human lives. It has lessened over the years now since humans aren't as inept as before. It takes time for us to ruin their lives,” he glances at you from the side. “You may witness it in person eventually.”

“Just like how you've caused it on mine?” You barely speak above a whisper, but Yeosang catches the irritated murmur, laughing softly as he helps you over a fallen tree. The sound is a bit eerie under these circumstances. You are trapped and he knows it so clearly. His laughter is evident enough of that.

“Precisely. We are almost there, human. Watch your step,” he pulls you closer to him, arm wrapped around your body, fingers light against your waist. Oddly it reminds you of Wooyoung – neither of the two's actions in consideration of the person they bother. In a way you believe that while Wooyoung touches you whenever he likes on purpose, Yeosang fails to realize there is an issue at all. He lets go when you enter the field, gracefully crossing his legs as he rests on the flower petals. You sit next to him with far less elegance, taking in your surroundings.

It is strange to see anything like this in the forest nearest your town. A small waterfall and a body of water sit in front of you, the sound of the liquid splashing filling the night. You pay no mind to how Yeosang watches you, your interest in the natural structures in front of you. A group of deer bend their necks, drinking the freshly cycled water from the pond.

“Hongjoong showed me this place when we first arrived,” Yeosang explains, head resting in his hands. “He told me that I can come whenever I like to clear my mind or hide away. He hasn't shown up here since, I'm sure out of respect for me. If you'd like I can come with you here whenever you need. I thought it would bring you some comfort amongst everything else.”

It does. Your emotions weigh heavy on you. Missing your family, mourning your lost relationship. Hurt sitting inside you with everything that's happened. You haven't gotten the chance to really let that feeling settle because you haven't had time to yourself. Though now you technically still don't, Yeosang doesn't speak. He doesn't interrupt the silence. No, all he does is stretch out his fingers, a book appearing on his palm. He flips through the pages, filling the air between the two of you.

“Thank you.”

The grass beneath you is comforting as you lie back, eyes closed. The sound of a page flipping continues.

“Thanking me is not needed.”

—

“Where did you take her?”

Yeosang barely looks up from his literature, a sigh escaping from his lips. Perhaps the two of you should have stayed out much longer. “Welcome home.”

“You can't just take her out of the house, Yeosang. We have to keep an eye on her at all times. You can't be alone without any of us near.” Seonghwa's voice is frustrated as he opens the fridge, digging through the drawers. “If she attempts to kill you we're too far away to stop it. You have to think these things through before committing to it.”

“The human isn't going to kill me, hyung,” Yeosang murmurs, frowning as he reads the next line. “Oh what a pity.”

“What?” Seonghwa turns, seeing his mate staring at the book.

Yeosang looks up, pointing to the page, “They died before meeting. They've been waiting years but they both died. It's horrific,” he shakes his head, continuing to flip through. It only gets Seonghwa more frustrated, frown on his lips soon to permanently embed itself in his face.

“You are not listening to me–”

“Oh, but I am listening perfectly, Seonghwa. I just wonder when you will finally let one of us know what's on your mind. And why you continue to lie about her to us,” Yeosang hums. “Maybe then I will give you my full, undivided attention. But for now, since you will likely respond with another lie, I will continue to read.” he looks up from his book, eyes resting on his. It makes the lump in Seonghwa's throat grow. Disappointment. Yeosang isn't like the others in that sense. He's hidden with his emotions, only letting his frustration or irritation through individual talks. Never letting another person around hear it. So now, even though they are both alone at the moment, it hurts Seonghwa to see that even with this privacy, Yeosang does not let his true feelings slip out. His hurt must be larger than he can comprehend.

It's not like Seonghwa doesn't want to say it. But solidifying his suspicions without being one hundred percent sure would only be useless. Turn them in a direction that they don't need to be in right now. They should be focused on the growing threat of Seelie entering their land, not you. You would just be a distraction between it all if you are human. And if Seonghwa is right about what you really are, then you're an asset to their team. If his spark all can fall under your charms without much effort, the Seelie are sure to fall for it. And they could finally subdue them once and for all. The only glaring problem with his plan, that is, is if you turn on them. It is the main reason why he dislikes whenever you’re left alone with just one.

“It is for a reason, Yeosang.” Seonghwa holds the tangerine in his hand, slowly peeling off the skin. “I hope you can understand.”

“We don't hide things from one another,” Yeosang says, writing into the pages of his novel. “So if you expect sympathy from me you've gone to the wrong mate. Perhaps Hongjoong, or Jongho will give you what you desire.” His brows furrow, frustration etching itself into his skin. “Now you can go. I'm getting distracted.”

Seonghwa places a tangerine in front of Yeosang's folded legs, leaving the room altogether. Once he is gone, Yeosang grabs the fruit. He stares at it, thumb running along the surface. It pierces the skin, juices sliding down his skin, spilling onto the book that rests in his lap. He sighs in frustration, tossing the fruit into the sink several meters away.

“Everything would be solved if she were dead,” he murmurs.

—

“Three.”

“Nope.”

“Less than that?”

“Much less.”

“It can't just be me, Wooyoung.”

Wooyoung grins, palm holding up his head as he looks up at you. “It's surprising, no? But it's true. All I've ever wanted, no, desired, was other faeries or creatures beyond your comprehension. Humans are only playthings to me. Meals at the end of the day. Nothing more.”

The thought makes your stomach want to fold in on itself. “You're joking?”

“Unfortunately no,” he sighs, letting his head flop down to your sheets. “Your scent is all consuming, solaris. No other human has affected me in such a way. And it wouldn't make sense to have a human partner when all I'd do is just kill them in the end.” His eyes shift to you. “I wouldn't do that to you though, I like you too much.”

“How wonderful,” Sarcasm drips from your words as he laughs. Easily speaking of killing humans, as if he's talking about playing a game. Some things you'll never get used to when hanging out with Unseelie. Their lack of care for living still makes you feel queasy. Your one murder haunts you every night, but he, no, they, thrive in it. You just cannot imagine it.

“You've overstayed your welcome,” Yeosang stands on the outside of the door, arms crossed against his chest. He nods at you, expression surprisingly warm. Since that night, Yeosang often spent time with you. He hasn't said much, as usual, but he sought you out for quiet. Wooyoung being here right now is likely the opposite of what he wants.

Wooyoung's head rolls to the side, eyes narrowing at his mate. “You bother her too much. Give solaris some space.”

“You're in her room every night,” Yeosang deadpans.

“Yes, and? She enjoys me around her, I liven up the place! Don't you enjoy me?” His pout matches the whiny tone of his voice. In the beginning it was mildly irritating, but you do enjoy it now. Not that you'd admit it to him. He'd never leave your side at that rate.

“No.”

“Solaris!” He whines, tucking himself further into your sheets. It would be humorous if it weren’t for the look Yeosang gives him.

“Leave,” Yeosang says, his voice firmer now. “Mingi and San need you.”

“On a scale of not needed at all to they're currently dying, where does the need of my presence fall–”

“Go, now.”

Mingi. You haven't seen him in a while, assuming that he was on a mission. Knowing that he's around makes you wonder a bit. He hasn't greeted you since you've arrived again. Was he afraid of seeing you? No, that couldn't be. You were afraid of him, not the other way around.

Wooyoung painfully drags himself off your sheets, sending you a quick look before moving past Yeosang. His hand reaches out and grips Wooyoung’s bicep, their eyes meeting. They often communicate without speaking, gazes flicking over one another’s before Wooyoung leaves down the hall. Yeosang turns to look at you, exhaustion easily lining his gaze. Still you envy their connection, unlike anything you’d ever experience yourself. You wouldn’t want to become an Unseelie, but their devotion to each other is formidable. If only your kind were the same. Perhaps if humans were equally bonded to one another, there’d be less infighting and more respect spread across the Earth. But of course, just wishful thinking.

“Hongjoong asked for you,” Yeosang says.

“The man of the hour,” you murmur, sighing. “Why can’t he just come here himself?”

“Believe it or not,” Yeosang smiles. “He is a bit more busy than you think. He didn’t technically ask for me to come find you, but I doubt he would find the time to leave himself. And Yunho is too preoccupied to come here. I’m the only one free at the moment.”

You lift yourself up from your seat, stepping past the small gap between Yeosang and the doorway. He shifts slightly, arm brushing against yours as you make your way around. He does not follow you promptly. You turn to look at him, his sight glued on yours.

“Something the matter?”

His expression changes, and he merely shakes his head. “Nothing. I’ll lead the way.”

—

Yeosang leaves you with him, fingers brushing against the back of your hand as he disappears down the hall. He did not try to start a conversation as you two were walking alone, briefly glancing at you from time to time. Whatever you did moments ago must have bothered him enough to not even attempt to dissolve the awkwardness resting between both of you. But you didn’t either, so there’s that.

You slowly enter, your steps echoing as you move further inside. You’ve been inside Hongjoong’s office once before, but never in his room. It is nothing like you expected it to be - no torture devices hanging from the walls. Instead, vinyls resting on clear displays, cds in between each one. In fact, there were several instruments decorated all about, some you couldn’t even recognize yourself. Many likely hundreds of years old. This is his place, his mind. The thought of peering into his personal space, his mind, even if ever briefly, makes you anxious, goosebumps rising on your skin as you take yourself further in. It can’t be that bad.

He at least tolerates you enough to have you still around.

“Why are you here?”

You turn to the side, Hongjoong hunched over at his desk, pen dragging across stationary as he writes. He does not look up so you can only assume he heard your loud steps enter his room. The notebook he writes in is well-worn, corners curved in and cover peeling. His eyes briefly meet yours after you don’t speak, brow raised in expectation. “Well?”

“Yeosang told me you wanted to see me.”

He rolls his eyes, staring at his writing before ripping out a page, crumbling it up and snapping his fingers. The paper engulfed in flames before flickering into ashes, sliding off his table and into the bin beneath. “Yeosang tells everyone a lot of things, that does not mean it’s true. You’ll learn to not listen to his words after a while. He’s quite mischievous,” he murmurs.

“Then I am not needed?” You’re thankful, really. Being in his space, his scent, creates a strange feeling within you. There’s a reason you avoid him, more than just being afraid.

Hongjoong stands, throwing his notebook off his table. You take a step back just as he moves forward, too fast for you to leave his sight. His hands grip your body, pulling you close to him.

“Personal space is a thing, Hongjoong.”

“You want me to speak to you, truly?”

You try pulling away but his hold only tightens. So instead of fighting a losing battle, you speak through tight lips, “Say what you have to say.”

“What is it you want me to say? That I would follow you everywhere, until your steps become my own, until your breaths mingle with mine? There's no need for that. There is no where you will go that will be where I am not. It is all but that simple.” He cradles your face in his hands, thumbs rubbing against the skin. It takes everything in you not to flinch. “That is all I need, and it is all you’ve wanted. We will no longer be separated; you won’t be left alone. Is that what you want?”

What is he even saying? The more he trails on, the more fear begins to circulate your veins. He does not seem to notice it, so he continues when greeted with silence. “Soobin is no longer an issue since he’s gone. You’re free to desire whomever you want without him holding you back.”

His name pulls you out of your confusion almost instantaneously. “He was my partner, Hongjoong,” your brows furrow. “He’s the reason I’m even in this town in the first place. Why would he be holding me back? I love him.” And it’s true. There has been a bit of wavering in your love, and he broke your heart not too long ago. Mourning a love lost is one thing, but losing that love for him completely is entirely different.

You don’t see the way his mouth twitches at the word love. What you do see, though, is the way his eyes narrow. “He’s gone.”

“Love doesn’t just disappear when I no longer see him.”

“Then how will it? Must he come to you and say he hates you? Will he have to attempt to hurt you for it to go away? Why do humans continue to love someone who’s left them? Why can’t you let him go?” What else does he have to do? Should he have manipulated the human’s mind before they killed him? Made him break your heart? He thought Mingi’s appearance was enough to stop your mind from lingering on him. But it seems like it has done little.

You stare at Hongjoong as he loses himself in his thoughts. You’ve believed in inherent goodness, but there’s always been this underlying fear of them, just for the nature of them being Unseelies alone. Knowing that despite all of what they say, it’s something they can’t change. It’s something you’ve settled with. But hearing his words, the way his eyes shake as he looks at you… something tells you that he’s off. That despite their comfort and sympathy, they know what happened to Soobin.

An even smaller part of you believes that they’ve done something to him.

“Why do you care?”

He does not respond, waiting for you to continue. In the position you are right now, it’s hard not to.

“It’s hard to,” you explain, choosing your words carefully. “I’ve known him since we were children, and even if I didn’t love him in the romantic sense, I still would love him as a former friend. It hurts to just lose a friendship like that.”

"If I killed it would you forget him?"

You still. His touch is ever so delicate as he waits for your response. Eyes warm, blinking slowly. It's as if he didn't just say he'd do something so heinous, so unthinkable.

"What?" Is all you can respond with.

He leans closer to you, barely a breath away from your lips. His eyes flick over your face, before landing back on your eyes. "If I killed your weak, miserable, disgusting, incompetent, lackluster ex-partner, as you call it, will you forget then? Will you mourn its loss then come into my arms? Will you love me as you love it?"

It. Perhaps his mask slid down just a bit.

"You're out of your mind."

"I am very much sane, y/n. It's a simple question with an even simpler answer."

"No."

"No…?"

"I wouldn't forgive you if you killed him, Hongjoong."

He rolls his eyes, a huff echoing around the room. "How boring and mundane. I thought you were more amusing than that." He moves away from you now, grabbing his notebook he threw across the room. “Yeosang was right, I did want to speak to you. Not yet, but I suppose I have little reason to keep it to myself. Seonghwa suspects that you are not human.”

He moves on from the moment as if it never happened, as if he did not threaten your old partner. The subject change easily distracts you though, the idea so otherworldly that you scoff. Hongjoong snickers at the sound, standing up. “You make that incredulous sound but Seonghwa has rarely ever been wrong in his findings. You may not be as human as you think.”

“I’m only human, Hongjoong. There’s nothing else to it.”

“That you know of,” he adds, placing his book back on his table. “You’ve lived as a human your whole life you know nothing other than that. Of course you’d think the thought silly.”

“What do you want me to say? First you threaten my old partner and now you say that I’m not human? Do you want me to beg at your knees and tell you that it’s not true?”

“The thought of you on your knees in front of me isn’t unappealing,” he chirps.

“You’re,” you hold your tongue. It’s not the smartest thing to do - insulting an Unseelie in their territory. Hongjoong is unhinged already, no need to push him further into his madness. But you cannot help yourself. “You’re disgusting.”

He shrugs, “That’s not the worst insult I’ve ever heard. You've overstayed your welcome, you can go.” His hand waves you off, giving you his back completely. Though you expect nothing less from him, it still feels humiliating. But there's nothing you can do. Not now. You decide it's best to just leave completely, door slamming behind you as you exit the room. Yeosang lingers outside, book closing when you walk past him. He reaches out for your arm but you shove his touch off, making your way to your room.

You don't quite notice how hard you’ve pushed him, his body thumping against the wood. Yeosang looks down at his hand. How his fingers curl into themselves. You pushed him off. Strength formidable to his own with just a spike in your anger. He does not follow you but instead, enter the room you just left.

—

“He is an Unseelie. It is not unlike him to thrive off of your anger and frustration. It's tantalizing, the energy oozing from humans. It is fun for us,” Wooyoung's laying on your bed once again, arms folded beneath his head, eyes on the ceiling. “It tastes wonderful, though not as good as fear.”

“Doesn't really ease my nerves,” you say, flipping through the book he handed you. It's something he grabbed from Jongho, the scrawny writing etched into the pages. You snicker at the jabs he adds in, his notations growing more humorous as you turn pages. It's distracting enough for now. A hand covers the writing, Wooyoung's pout forcing you to stop. You shut the book, placing it on your side table. “He is annoying, Wooyoung. I don't think I'll last here long with him constantly saying shit and me not being able to say anything back.”

“You can argue with him, solaris. He won't kick you out.” He sees your expression, sighing. “We all do it, and none of us have left yet–”

“You are his mates, his spark. He wouldn't throw you out because of an argument. I have nothing left if I leave, Wooyoung. My family would be in danger, Soobin would be in danger, right when I step outside someone is waiting to kill me. It's exhausting to think about.”

“You have to learn to put yourself first instead of worrying about others,” he says. “And your family is as safe as they can be right now. They do not remember you, and you’ve been pulled from their lives. If a Seelie truly digs for it they will find them, but we will know before anything happens,” Wooyoung presses his finger against his temple. “I’ve got them on my radar.”

“You’re only confusing me more.”

“A spell, solaris. I’m keeping my eye on them every second. You’ll know if anything is amiss. Unfortunately though, I’d rather not update you on mundane things. It’ll make letting them go harder to bear.”

You do not agree with his method of lessening your worry, but you’d rather not argue with another Unseelie, too distraught from the last conversation to probe any further. You sink yourself deeper into the seat, closing your eyes. His silence is enough to make you open a lid, meeting the eyes of the Unseelie who continues to stare. You shake your head, closing them once more.

“Taking a picture would be better than you just staring.”

“Is that a joke or can I really take a photo?”

This time both of your eyes open, moving to him. He hasn’t moved from his spot, the devilish grin still on his face as he laughs. “I was kidding.”

“How unfortunate.”

You hum in agreement, eyes closing again. Since Wooyoung is often lingering around your room and having time to yourself is only reserved for late nights, San hasn’t really come around anymore. Sometimes he’d show here and there, but only for a quick once over and disappearing back to wherever he spends his time. It’s why you’ve grown used to Wooyoung threatening to tear your door down if you don’t let him in. Sure, it’s a bit concerning and mildly threatening, but he hasn’t done anything nefarious. Flirting here and there, maybe a bit of annoying banter, but you enjoy it. He’s one of your only companions that you have, even if you were essentially forced to live with him.

Your mother wouldn’t let you out of her sight if she knew.

“Do you like me around, solaris?” he asks after a moment.

“No.”

“If that is truly what you think, you don’t have to say yes and allow me to enter your room if you’re not comfortable with it.”

Nope. You don’t want this conversation to happen now. Not when you’re still figuring this out, trying to decipher what your feelings are for him. “I’m… fine with you being around, Wooyoung. You’re fun to hang around with.”

“As friends?” He asks. You hear the creak of your bed and immediately open your eyes. He sits on the edge of it, eyes looking through the open porch door. He does not look at you and yet, you feel like his attention is focused on the beats of your heart, the sound of your breaths. “Do you consider me a friend?”

“I don’t know.”

And it is true. You’re not sure how to classify your relationship with him. You’re friends, maybe. But it would be a lie if you were just that. He’s open with his own feelings, how much he wants you to want him. You just… don’t understand how he could want you so badly when he has seven other mates to focus on. And from what you know, despite Hongjoong’s slip of information, you’re a human. There’s nothing truly special about you aside from your little blip a while ago.

“Are you afraid of me?”

This is one you can answer with ease. “Yes.”

He turns around to look at you. It’s hard to see his face, the sun shining on the back of his head draping his face in darkness. You can barely see through the rays yourself. You watch as he stands, a slight step towards you. You follow his movements, though making no move to back up or go forward.

“That’s good, to be afraid of me,” he murmurs. “Perhaps you are not as clueless as we’ve previously thought. Being on guard around us, holding your feelings close. It is good.”

“What are you getting at, Wooyoung?”

“What I’m getting at is that you fear us, I can see it. I see how you interact with everyone, with me. But we both know how you feel about me. Even if you cannot say it yourself.” he moves even closer to you. But instead of standing in front of you, he slowly goes down on his knees. “If I am so terrifying to you, will this change things? My submission to you?”

He reaches up, his hands slowly holding yours in his grip as he places them on either side of his cheek. His eyelashes flutter once they touch his skin, a slow, clear groan escaping his parted lips. “It could be so easy for us. You could be mine, and I yours,” he whines.

“You have mates, Wooyoung. There’s no need for me.”

“They do not mind my yearn for you, if that is what you are worried about. None of them do. We all love each other differently, in different ways. My care for you is nothing like my care for them, but it does not have to be. You are different.”

Oh no.

You hold his face in your hands, fingers shakily stroking the tan of his skin, brushing against the mole beneath his eyes. They remain focused on you, lips trembling beneath each caress. You can hear your heart in your ears, pumping violently against your ribcage. It is familiar. A feeling you haven’t felt in a while.

You might just be in love with him.

And it is terrifying.

The revelation is alarming, swelling. It frightens you each passing second. You love him dearly. How has he worked himself into your heart? Is this coercion? Maybe he’s manipulated you to the point of no return. It is reasonable to think so. Before you were terribly frightened of his presence around you, aware that at any moment they may decide to drag their lengthened nails into your chest, killing you. And yet here you sit, Wooyoung crouched beneath you, his nails leaving indents in your thighs from how desperate his hold is, his warm, aroused eyes flicking between yours. The gasps leave your lips as his hands travel closer and closer to you. Right now you are not as afraid of him, not completely.

How could you love someone so easily when you lost the man you thought you were going to marry not too long ago? It should have been harder to fall for his charms. It shouldn’t have happened so quickly at all; and yet here you are.

Your thumb presses lightly into his lips, the flick of his tongue eagerly dragging on the pad of it. Never in your life have you seen such desperation from a partner, such eagerness to have you. It is a wonder you’ve held yourself strong for such a long time when he is so willing under your touch. Is it sinister to want this to continue? Knowing who he is, who they are.

“You are pretty,” the words leave your mouth without much thought. His body shudders at your words, leaning forward, head pressing into your stomach. His hands leave your thigh, wrapping around the curve of your waist, pulling you closer to him.

“Am I?” His breaths hitch, yearning lining and enfolding itself around two simple words. You have yet to kiss him, to taste his mouth, and he is distressed for you. Touch on your skin, but it is not enough for him. His head tilts up, pupils covering his irises completely. “Am I pretty to you?”

He slowly rises, warm, trembling body moving closer and closer to you. His hands stay on your hips as he hovers over your body, chest rising and falling quickly. Your hands leave his face and cup his neck instead. You are not unaware of how his breath hitches as you hold him. He leans forward, lips lightly brushing against your chin.

“Am I?” There is a pause in his movements. His unwavering despair to have you is not unknown, but he pauses. As if waiting for your approval to move further. A bit humorous how now he is holding himself back when he is so close to having you. “I want you to say it to me, solaris. Tell me.”

“You’re pretty, Wooyoung.”

His lips waste little time in covering yours, tongue entering your mouth immediately. His lips tremble as he tastes you, hands moving to the back of the chair to hold himself steady. The freestanding furniture slides against the floor, hitting the wall behind it as he pushes himself closer and closer to you.

You are overcome with the feeling of not knowing him, of not knowing his touch, his desperate breaths mixing with yours, his teeth sinking into your lips, begging for reprieve. He almost swallows you whole with his eagerness, hands wrapping around your body, pulling you into him. His strength lifts you from the seat entirely, your legs wrapping around him as he presses you against the wall. He lets his lips leave yours, tongue tracing down the slide of your neck, moans loud. It is not surprising he is a vocal lover, and for a moment embarrassment settles within you at the thought of one of the others entering the home, hearing his voice echoing down the halls.

“I do not care,” he murmurs against your skin, “Let them listen to me worshiping you.”

You're unable to speak.

“Would it bother you? For them to hear me kiss you from your neck to your feet, everything in between? Is it so wrong for me to want my palms to burn beneath your touch?”

You laugh at the suggestion, “I am no God that you’d be burned by my touch.”

He smiles against your skin, “How is that possible if I pray to you each night? Do they not say to worship in the low light?” his lips press against the tips of your fingers, teeth dragging across the skin. “You should have heard my prayers, solaris. I am an extremely devoted servant to you.”

“Wooyoung,” Somewhere in between sacrilegious and obscene, his chest rises with laughter.

“For you alone I am weak, solaris. For you, I will crawl, I will beg,” his lips leave your fingers, “San is not the only Unseelie who is violently devoted to the brink of utter obsession, solaris. Can you not feel mine?” His tongue drags against the skin of your collarbone, your body trembling beneath the wet touch. His hands have never left your hips, nails digging into the skin. You are too involved to feel how they slightly puncture, his longing words distracting. “Can you feel how devout I am to you? How gloriously blessed I am to be touching your skin?”

His hands release you for the briefest of moments, wrapping around your torso as he moves away from the wall. The walls around you shift, your mind lost for a moment. You blink, only a moment to glance around and see that you're in fact, no longer in your room. That he pulled you through the thin threads of reality into his. Wooyoung is ever so impatient, letting your body fall against his bedsheets.

“I think I prayed enough,” he continues, staring down at you. “You might have finally heard me beg to see you like this. How lucky I am to be the one to see you like this,” he leans over, brushing his thumb against your cheek. “But I need you to do something for me.”

“Okay,” you say. The words come out with certainty you didn't know you possessed for him, breathless and accepting of anything he may suggest. His lips lift, but you see that it does not entirely reach his eyes. You lean up, and he sits back down on the floor. Looking up at you. Just as you're about to sit yourself next to him, his hand stops you, shaking his head.

“I need you to tell me what to do to you.”

“Tell you what to do?”

“I can't do it myself. I can't do anything to you myself.” The tone of his voice is strange now. It is as desperate as before, but there is something else between the words. You do not know him well enough to even guess what it may be, why he truly needs you to guide him. But his despair is apparent, the way his hands tremble as they begin to hold your thighs, tears coating the brim of his lids. It is merely a guess, but it feels like he can only move further with your exact words. Your precise permission.

It should not frighten you how much control, even if facetious, you have over him.

“Please solaris.”

“I have to?” You whisper, and he nods.

“It is as I have said. I follow your word.” His hold is lighter now as he waits. “I cannot indulge in your sweetness without permission.”

You grow weary as he continues his explanation.

“The corruption is not merely just a surface level. None of the Unseelie can, not without word from the other partner. Though we reign in chaos, we cannot do activities like this without explicit permission. I need you, I do. But I need you to need me too.” His touch is claw-like, fingertips tracing the marks upon your skin, lips tantalizing as they drag over your knee, breathes tickling the small hairs. “Do you need me?”

You have only been the sun to him. It is no wonder he is so vehement on you aching for him a tenth of how he craves you. You can see it in his eyes, the darkened gaze settling on you, the cage preventing him from moving further. The thought is comforting perhaps, though you'd never suggest that he'd do such a thing, but knowing that Unseelie are unable to force themselves upon someone. Nature is still balanced.

You are the sun to him, his solaris. What he is to you…

You have yet to figure out.

He nods at your question long forgotten, hands unmoving as you lean down. He holds his breath as you place your hand at the bottom of his chin, tilting his head up to entirely look at you. Submitting to you.

“I want you all over me, Wooyoung.”

His hands drag your legs forward, thighs spread apart. His body could crack a hole in the floor with how much he trembles in anticipation. His fingers change, nails lengthening. You watch in awe as they turn into claws, easily sliding through the material of your shorts, tossing it to the side.

“I've thought endlessly of how I would have you beneath me,” the words are barely let out as he pulls you closer to him, arousal dripping from his words. “Your lips desperately pleading for me, wanting me. How you would let me do anything to you.” His words are coated in lust, lips hovering over where you desire him most. “Can I taste you, y/n?”

“Please.”

His lips cover your clit, smacking together from the wetness that clings to them. Your fingers glide into his soft locks, tugging lightly as his tongue enters you. His moans into you are loud, the tug in your stomach tightening, worsening when you feel his fingers gripping your thighs, tongue finding your most sensitive point with ease.

You attempt to lift your head to see him, your gaze falling on his helmet of hair between your thighs, nestled. Soft whines spilled from your lips as you place your head back down on the sheets, the silk forcing your touch to only grip him. Your thighs tighten as you beg him for something you’re not sure of, his movements continuing until you tug a bit harder on his hair to pull him away. His shadow slides up your form, “I’m not just done with you, solaris.”

He lifts your head, pressing a light kiss just beneath your ear. “I haven’t had enough of you yet. You are godly, and yet I cannot help but sin,” his breath was hot as he exhales onto your skin, goosebumps left in his wake as he moves back to where he once was. His fingers tremble slightly against your skin, his hooded eyes resting on yours as he leaned back down, lips wrapped around your clit once more.

Wooyoung’s hand grips and tugs at your thigh. You blink once more, a field of clovers beneath the two of you. The evening sun is low in the sky, peeking through the trees, the sunlight leaving a streak across his cheeks, brown eyes lighter. He practically glows, eyes shining with need, tongue between his lips to softly flick over your bud. The pull in your cunt grows once more, stronger and stronger as his eyes flutter close. Leaves rustle, a warm breeze brushing against your skin.

“My solaris, how do I shine for you?” he whispers. The simple sentence along the return of his lips to your lower ones make your muscles grow tight, a soft moan vibrating up your throat once relief and warmth began rushing beneath your skin. Wooyoung holds you close as you tremble, lips still wrapped around you as you climax once more, unable to let your grip on his hair go, pressing him harshly into you.

His eyes are warm as they look up at you, your body covered with your shirt, chest rising and falling slowly. His lips are slow, peppering kisses along the inside of your thigh, “how are you? still with me?”

You swallow slowly, struggling to find yourself after what happened. A few seconds pass before you can speak, “Yes. Yes, I’m fine.”

He laughs, continuing the seemingly never-ending drag of his soft lips up her stomach, his fingers pushed under your shirt to glide it up. They’re soft, warm as your lift your hands away from his hair and up, allowing him to see all of you. The last person that’s seen you this vulnerable was Soobin, and before that… not many. His eyes are glazed over as he takes in your exposed chest, his index finger tickling your skin as he lightly moves around the flesh of your breast. “Just for me?” He leans forward, cheek pressed against the soft flesh, trembling. “You’re more than what I’ve ever imagined.”

“Wooyoung…” Your mouth is dry as you let his name leave your lips, the word coming out rougher than you intended it to. He groans, shaking his head slightly.

“I would never tire of hearing you say my name like that,” he murmurs. “It is a shame the others cannot hear since we are so far.”

You look around as he slips his fingers into one of your free hands. The field is small, likely near where Yeosang brings you every once in a while. The thought makes you wonder – he did say that no one knew of the place aside from Hongjoong and himself. How could Wooyoung know to bring you here?

“Your thoughts move elsewhere, are you alright?” His eyes are coated with concern, hand lifting to brush a thumb against your cheek. “We can stop if it’s too much for you.”

“No, no everything is fine.” It may be that Yeosang let this private place slip his tongue while speaking with him. And perhaps Wooyoung found it as beautiful as you did and decided to bring you here. You let those thoughts settle within you as he leans down, his lips pressing against your jaw. A hum vibrates against his lips, your moment of confusion slipping away once he lines himself up and pushes forward, just enough to have your eyes widening almost immediately. You expect the impact to at least ache, but it feels warm and soft and full.

“So warm, my solaris. Made just for me, yes?” His entrance is slow, his hand that cradles your face sliding to your shoulder. “I need to ask, solaris.”

He leans forward, lips pressing against your forehead as he pushes deeper. “We… I feed on life. On human life. And you are full of it, pretty. So so beautiful and holy and bright.”

His words make no sense, a question still not uttered. “What are you saying, Wooyoung?”

“Can I taste you?” His hands slide down to your waist as he finally fully enters. They glow a dark orange against your skin, his eyes on yours. “It would be just a small taste. It wouldn’t kill you. It will feel good, solaris. You will feel good.”

The question is still vague, but even with you clouded mind, you can pick through the mess of words. A low moan comes from you as he pulls out slightly, entering again. “You want to eat my soul?”

“A sliver, it will barely be missed.”

“…Okay.”

The fear disappears once his lips cover yours, tongue entering your mouth as his hips set a steady rhythm. “You’ll love it.” You begin to keen under him, feeling wave after wave of heat surrounding the two of you, the sound of birds above you chirping as he takes you. The ache entering through you from the pleasure his cock pressing in and out of you and the sensation of being beneath his torso. His fingers gripping your waist break skin, and then you see it. The orange light that you presumed was spilling through his fingers was not him, no. It is you, your aura surrounding the two of you. Wooyoung’s pace almost doubles at the sight, the smell woodsy and sweet. The mop of black hair seeps into a orange color as it swirls through the air, eyes matching. It is a sight to see between pleasure, you, yourself, seen in an unknown light. Just as he pulls away from your lips, your soul enters your skin again.

His brows furrow, but he does not comment on it, instead, lifting up onto his hands to find another angle, sighing in relief it once your knees were up at his sides, feet hooked around his waist. The question as to why he cannot feed on you lingers.

“Perhaps my sin is too much for a soul like yours,” he whispers, dropping his weight down onto his elbows, then further, arms wrapping around you. “I will enjoy you nonetheless.”

“What are you–”

His hips press harshly into yours just as you begin to speak, watching as your eyes roll back, lids fluttering. You’re not quick to notice a hot tear falling down your cheek, rolling down your temple, lost in the darkness as his cum seeping out of his tip slowly but surely began melting your senses into nothing. The sound of skin begins echoing in the air and trees, his knees sliding up to push his thighs against you, pressing him deeper. You slowly lose your sense of the world you, focused on his cock pressing into you, his arms around you as you writhe with each thrust.

“So pretty,” he murmurs. “You always shine brightly, solaris, and yet you shine even moreso. How am I to keep my hands off you now that I’ve finally had you?” The sound of his voice is lost in between the sounds of skin slapping, the way he rocked into her body.

“Then don’t,” you say.

His eyes widen briefly, the orange fading as they meet yours. You somehow find the strength to keep focused on him despite how intensely your climax is coming. It’s the first time you’re unable to read his expression, perhaps a tint of wonder if you could focus. After a few seconds your thighs tighten, gasps leaving your lips. “Wooyoung–”

“Just like that pretty, just for me.”

Your head falls back, straining to let out the moan that clawed its way up, vise forming around his cock until he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Hell,” he grits, hips stilling as he cums, stuttering with each succeeding one. Your breaths escape your lips, lids heavy as you feel his own lips press lightly against yours.

—

“It has been hours since they were together, and he has still not let her leave his room. Should she not eat?” Yunho murmurs. They can see how his annoyance has gathered around him, hand gripping the apple between his fingers tightly, brows furrowed enough to become one. He is right – neither you nor Wooyoung has left his room. Seonghwa and maybe San could break the barrier that he has placed around his resting place, but neither wants to. Only making Yunho grow more irritated.

“They were together, Yunho. Let them simmer in it before they're told the news,” San rubs his arm, presses a soft kiss against his temple. “It is soon to be ruined once they enter a shared space.”

“He’s not going to move on from this,” Hongjoong sighs, eyes closed as he tucks himself further into the couch cushions. “I’m not ready to hear him boasting everyday about something I don’t care about in the slightest. San you might have to whip up a spell to shut him up.”

“I doubt he’d say anything outlandish-”

“Good afternoon~” His warm voice echoes through the room as he enters, almost floating as he glides along the tiles to the fridge. He presses his lips against Yunho and San’s cheeks while he passes by, the ghost of his magic roaming over Hongjoong’s arm and squeezing it. “Lovely day.”

Hongjoong’s lip twitches, but he makes no move to respond to Wooyoung’s words, annoyance already riddling his features. Yunho glances at Wooyoung, watching as he sings a song, pulling ingredients from open drawers and cabinets. No one says a word in response aside from San, easily wrapping his arm around his waist and pressing a kiss to his mate’s temple.

“We haven’t seen you in almost a day.”

“Busy. And solaris is hungry, and I assume the rest of you are,” he places his utensils on the counter. “Ready for some human food?”

All of their faces wrinkle in disgust at his words, a chuckle draping his lips as he rolls his eyes. “It wouldn't hurt you to feed on things other than humans.”

“It tastes of chalk and sadness,” Yunho mumbles, watching as he coats the pan with butter. “And smells rancid.”

“Whatever, you're missing out on the joys in life. Sweets aren't the only thing that tingles the taste buds.”

“You would know,” San is barely heard as he bites on the apple slice, but it is audible enough for their joint laughter. “I'm surprised you haven't spilled your secrets yet. Not often do you keep your escapades to yourself.”

“I’m not going to brag, I would never kiss and tell.”

Yunho’s eyes narrow. “You do, in fact, kiss and tell. That’s all you do actually, I’m surprised you were even able to let that lie slip.”

Wooyoung sticks out his tongue, tapping the pepper into the pan. “Well not now. Solaris is too special for me to discuss things like that around you all. A star that glows like her demands privacy.”

“Did she threaten you?” Hongjoong snickers, peeking out a lid when he doesn’t hear an immediate response. “Oh? She did?”

He frowns. “Not necessarily. I would just like to keep it quiet. It's not just between us eight now, she’s different. Humans are more private. I don't want her uncomfortable.”

“Honorable,” Yunho notes. “Perhaps you have grown.”

“There’s barely a hundred years between us,” Wooyoung deadpans, narrowing his eyes. “I’m not as young as you think I am.”

—

“They were together.”

“Correct.”

“And you have no qualms with that?”

“They are not young and we are not responsible for their actions, Seonghwa. I don’t care what they do in their free time. You’re just upset that she wasn’t with you first as all. She likely would have if it weren’t for that disgusted look you give her every time you’re in a room together.”

“She’s not a commodity to be passed around, Hongjoong. I don’t care if she is with me first or not at all. All that I’m saying is, it’s irresponsible to ignore it.”

If Hongjoong’s eyes could roll further back they would. He closes his notebook slowly, looking up at Seonghwa. “What do you suppose we do, then? Place a chastity belt on Wooyoung, perhaps cuff him to his bed so that he cannot move near her? Ship him off to Yeonjun himself to deal with?”

  “That is not what I’m saying at all. You treat this like it’s a joke,” Seonghwa frowns.

“What you’re suggesting is a joke. I’m not stopping either of them from indulging in one another. I didn’t expect Wooyoung to win her over so soon, but it was inevitable. You hid your suspicions from them, but even with it, it would only make it more enticing for him. He does not back down from a challenge. Especially one he is so obsessed with.”

“You told me to keep it to myself,” Seonghwa rubs his temple, breathing deeply. “I was going to tell them-”

“You still could have. You still can. What I said was a suggestion, nothing more.”

There is no use in arguing with him, Seonghwa thinks. Hongjoong knows what his suggestions are - oftentimes there are threats hidden beneath them. And though he loves him more than life itself, he cannot stand how nonchalant Hongjoong can be. Even if the human, you, does not know your true nature yourself.

“Fine.”

Hongjoong smirks, “That was much easier to deal with.”

“I will tell them tonight. All of them.”

Hongjoong’s smirk twitches. Seonghwa is not looking at him directly, so he does not see the slight dip in his expression, “You will?”

“As you said, it was merely a suggestion. Perhaps their minds will change once they all know of her true nature. And we can finally kill her.”

“You want her dead?”

Never. The thought forms bile in his mouth. “I’d rather not touch her at all. But what other choice do we have? She will kill us all if we let her stay. It is the best decision right now.” He found you, he tracked you down. If he killed you in the beginning despite the resistance to their powers, perhaps it would have saved him from the guilt that begins to riddle his body. He should not care for a creature like you, knowing it is what you do. And still, with knowing, he cannot stop it from happening. Which is why he needs to tell the rest of them.

“They won’t let you kill her. Most have already succumbed to her charm.”

“... I will do what I must to keep us safe.”

Hongjoong shrugs, “Then so be it. You have no objection from me. I’ve grown wary of her being around anyway. Humans are too… irritating.”

“Not a human.”

“Right. I won’t let the others know of my opinion and side with the majority.”

“Sometimes, they would like to hear what their leader thinks, Hongjoong.”

He pauses for a moment. “It will influence their decisions too much for me to say what I want.”

“And you think your thoughts do not influence mine?” Seonghwa asks, genuinely curious. Hongjoong laughs at the question, shaking his head.

“Seonghwa, I've known you for hundreds of years. You’d rather throw yourself in front of a deadly attack than take my opinion over your own. It is settled.”

—

You sit near the back of the room, Wooyoung’s presence wrapped around the headrest of the chair you occupy. No one else has approached you, though you sensed the lingering eyes of Yunho to the side of you. He gave you a smile when you entered, the slight downturn of his lips as he met Wooyoung’s gaze obvious. It did make you nervous that it was somehow your fault he looked furious. But the expression was gone with a blink.

“Mingi won’t be joining us, but he already informed me of his opinion prior to our meeting,” Hongjoong says, sliding past the rest and sitting in the loveseat farthest away from the entrance. His eyes bore into yours, oddly twinkling. “It will be kept in mind as we’re voting.”

“And what is it that we’re voting on?” Yunho asks.

“It has taken me a while to consider what has been going on the past few months, and how it affects all of us, including y/n,” Seonghwa does not meet your eyes as he speaks, staring at an unoccupied couch. “Our voting today is to decide if she lives or dies.”

Silence falls over the room. Your own chest tightens, palms growing moist as the seconds tick by. Kill you? Has what you’ve done destroyed their relationship with other faeries to the point of no return? Seonghwa’s reluctance to even be near you was not only for disgust like you thought before, but something deeper. Hongjoong wasn’t lying when he told you that they believed you to be not human. But you’re not hiding anything yourself. Being anything but human just feels impossible.

“You’re joking?” Wooyoung stands up from where he is behind you, slightly stepping forward. “She’s done nothing wrong.”

“She killed Beomgyu, Wooyoung.”

“So? I kill faeries and humans all the time! Why should that matter?”

“You know why,” San speaks this time, shaking his head. “It has caused us many problems. But Seonghwa, killing her? What use is that to us?”

Seonghwa sighs. “She is not entirely human, that’s why.”

Their gazes all meet yours from across the room. Even Wooyoung, his valiant effort to coax them into saving your life, expression drops slightly, confusion coating his gaze. As if questioning the validity of everything you’ve told him. Somehow that look makes you feel utterly guilty, despite not believing in his claim.

“I am a human,” you retort. “That, whatever happened at that time, it wasn’t… it was me, but it was a fluke. An adrenaline rush.”

“How can we assume she’s not human just because she killed a Seelie?” Yeosang asks. His expression remains neutral, potion book placed face-down on the counter. “Strength like that is not uncommon in humans.”

“Correct, but we all know that a human cannot tear apart a Seelie, especially the way Beomgyu was. His body was unrecognizable, torn to shreds. Someone with her size and strength, even with a burst of adrenaline could not take a Seelie down like that. She would have to know weaknesses, have weaponry-”

“It is unlike you to say allegations without undeniable truth,” Jongho interrupts him. “So I believe what you’re saying, hyung. What is she, if not a human?”

It’s interesting how despite being in the same room with them, they all ignore your presence entirely, speaking amongst themselves. Likely because you can lie with ease and without restraint. They won’t believe a word that comes out of your mouth, anyway, except maybe Yunho or Wooyoung.

“Now this may bother you all. But there is no other explanation. She is a kumiho.”

“That’s impossible-”

“It isn’t,” Seonghwa interrupts Wooyoung before he begins, holding up a hand. “We are real, so it is not too far gone to believe in something that was once unreal to us. There are still beings out there that we do not know of. Her strength, the claw marks on the dead Seelie. She has not turned on the full moon and her blood does not contain any sort of wolf characteristics. Kumiho can blend amongst humans the easiest after they have lived over a thousand years. It is not unrealistic to assume that she has moved past that point and become a human woman.”

“She hasn’t even attempted to lure any of us.” Wooyoung narrows his eyes. “Nor has she eaten human flesh.”

“That we know of.”

You can only scoff, shaking your head. “This is unreal.”

“There is no other explanation. Your strength is formidable to our own. Likely, the feline creature hiding inside this human appearance in front of us has prevented itself from remembering what it was. For protection or otherwise - we have yet to find out.”

Wooyoung’s gaze wavers the longer he listens to Seonghwa’s explanation. In fact, it seems that each of them believes everything that comes from his mouth. But it is impossible. What would be the reason for hiding your true being from yourself?

“Now we vote, then,” Hongjoong starts. “Mingi has voted yes to kill her. Seonghwa?”

“It is what needs to be done, yes,” Seonghwa agrees.

“Yunho?” Hongjoong asks, turning to him.

His gaze is on the floor, thinking. After a few seconds passed, “No. I don’t think she’s a threat to us. We keep her alive.”

Hongjoong looks at Yeosang.

Yeosang ponders the thought as everyone discusses loudly amongst one another. His eyes meet yours across the room, just being Wooyoung as he seemingly protects you with his body. You look afraid. Your eyes move to each person as they speak, your nerves palpable enough to be tasted in the thickened air. If he himself agrees to your death, it is likely that San would agree. Neither of them truly differ in opinion on things like this. Jongho would soon follow out of mere respect. And you would be killed promptly. It is what he has wanted since you’ve arrived here, turning everything sideways. So why, as he looks at your pathetic cowering behind Wooyoung, why does he feel such pity for you?

He looks at Wooyoung again. Though his fascination with you is beyond his capability of understanding, he can see it. How his eyes look at his spark desperately, pleading with them to save you. How Yunho’s jaw clenches, quietly observing. He wanted you here, wanted you protected by them. Though you aren’t exactly the pitiful human he once thought you to be, he still cares for you, strangely.

“Well, what do you want to do?” San whispers into his neck. Useless, since they all can hear what he’s saying aside from you. “Kill her?”

His next words will change everything. Yeosang meets your eyes across the room. His own widen slightly at your expression, flicking down to read your lips. The words mouthed to him are enough for him to decide.

Please help me.

“There’s no reason to kill her if she does not hold any threats to us right now.”

Seonghwa whips his head to Yeosang. Anger expressed along the vein on his neck, the set of his brows. He will not say it outright, but Yeosang has just betrayed his trust. Perhaps Seonghwa thought he would allow the woman to be killed just because … well, because he wanted it. But he cannot now, not when things are turning out so interesting.

“You are sure of this?” Hongjoong asks. His eyes sparkle. “Truly?” Despite only being the fourth oldest, his words hold weight for the rest.

“I am,” Yeosang says simply. The tense gaze of your expression has not dropped. Probably because you don’t realize that San would follow his lead, then Jongho. Your hand wraps around Wooyoung’s arm that traps you behind him. “If need be in the future with reason, sure. But now, no.”

“This is a mistake-” Seonghwa begins, stopping once Hongjoong flicks his finger. His mouth is shut in an instant, the feeling of magic swirling through the air.

“Hasn’t he spoken enough tonight? There are three remaining votes. As always, I will side with the majority. San, you’re next.”

“No need to kill her,” San agrees. Hongjoong’s smile grows louder, eyes flicking to Wooyoung.

“Your answer is obvious, but please Wooyoung, give your vote.”

Wooyoung covers your body almost completely as he speaks. “Of course, I will not kill her.”

“What does our youngest think?”

“I enjoy her being around, I can’t imagine her not being here,” Jongho smiles at you from across the room. “She can stay.”

“Well, as with the majority, y/n’s life is spared. Apologies to Seonghwa and Mingi, but as you know, it has now been decided. Take all the time you need to process this.” He flicks his finger again toward Seonghwa. The room expects him to roar his complaints, but he only looks around, tiredness seemingly flowing off of him.

“I trust you all and always have. And I assumed that you trust my words as well. But as Hongjoong has said, majority rules. I hope that you all keep an eye on her, and make sure that with the slightest change in behavior, monitor it. It can come at any time since she cannot control it herself,” Seonghwa looks at you, eyes meeting. “And I hope, y/n, you listen to my words yourself. Leave if you feel the change happening.”

He leaves the room, Hongjoong disappearing from his spot, likely following Seonghwa close behind along with Yunho. Leaving the rest of you alone.

Wooyoung’s body seeps into your figure the way he embraces you so tightly, lips pressing against your temple lightly. “I’ll be back, pretty.” His touch disappears as well. Jongho glances at you sympathetically, eyes glazing over yours for a moment before he too, blinks away. The instantaneous disappearing bodies is not something you’d ever get used to.

It does not distract you enough from what Seonghwa said, though. You are not human, despite how you’ve lived, how much you have insisted. A kumiho? As he further explained it, it still made entirely no sense to you. You’ve lived your life plainly, rarely if ever dated once in a while. Soobin was your second official relationship, the first lasting no more than a couple of years. The way he looked with such disgust as he explained it, how your age superseded everyone’s in the room. How your true nature was hidden from even yourself - it is impossible to think of.

“It is interesting to look at you, knowing what you are,” San says, looking around Yeosang to peer at you. “Do you have the urge to bite me?”

“I don’t feel anything, San,” exasperation coats your words. “I don’t even believe it myself.”

“Seonghwa is rarely wrong,” Yeosang murmurs. “That is why we take his word as the truth. Since you are kumiho, your training with Mingi will be much different now. Likely more intense.”

Your arms ache at the thought. You have yet to see Mingi yourself, but the training from before was strenuous. You look at Yeosang, remembering he expression on his face as he peered over at you, the tired eyes filled with curiosity as he voted to keep you alive. You are grateful, nonetheless. But the question lingers the longer you look at him.

“Do you want me dead?”

Yeosang pauses at the inquiry, straw resting between his lips. Eyes flicking to yours. There is little to decipher when it comes to him since he rarely tells what he may be thinking, and you're not with him often. But something in the way he looks at you. He does not respond right away – an indication that he may twist his words to satisfy your question.

“In the beginning I thought it'd be best to get rid of you before it escalated. Even more recently, I thought the same. But now I am not so sure,” he places his drink on the counter. “Most of us do enjoy having you around, human or not. Though I am not as enthused as Yunho or Wooyoung with your presence, I no longer hate it. So I have grown to tolerate it. Until I cannot.”

“You will kill me?”

His smile is strange, hollow. “If I must. Your life isn't that important. Or I'll wait until it has run out itself. You may only have a few more decades left, anyway. They will get over it – their fixation will move to something more interesting eventually.”

How casually he talks about your life. Like it is nothing. He does consider it as nothing, as he has said. None of the Unseelie is this house told you do directly as he has done. You should feel a bit wary around him now, knowing he could change his mind in seconds and kill you. Even now, as he reads the spellbook resting on his thighs, he could kill you. And San, sitting nearby, would only help.

So feeling comforted at the thought is unusual.

“Thank you for being honest,” you say, and he snickers. “Not much of that going around here.”

“Sure.”

San leaves a bit after that. The silence echoes around the small room, eyes moving to the doorway at the sound of the door clicking open. The sight nearly startles you, seeing him for the first time in months. Mingi is followed closely by Yunho, bodies brushing against one another as they enter. Yeosang takes that as a sign to leave you, closing his spellbook and gracefully hopping off the chair. His fingers drag across Mingi's arm as he leaves.

“Oddly quiet around here,” he notes, opening the fridge. Yunho sits where Yeosang just was, smiling at you. “Have you been getting along well despite today?” He asks, thanking Mingi as he passes him an apple. “Wooyoung said you've been making progress adjusting, but I rarely take his word for it.”

“It's been better now,” you say. “It's not one hundred percent yet, but I am getting used to being around here. I hope it just ends soon.”

“I heard your life was spared. It should make you happy. Ah,” he snaps his fingers. “They haven't told you yet,” Mingi sits on the opposite side of you. “We will have to leave soon.”

“We?”

“Half of us. Yunho, Wooyoung, Hongjoong, and myself. Seelie requested our presence. We would have all went, but with these circumstances, it may be best to leave half of us here.”

Circumstances meaning you. Mingi does not further explain and you do not insist on him doing so, instead sinking further into the chair you rest on. “So I am left with the rest of you.”

“Left is a strong word,” Yunho mumbles into his cup. “More like babysat.”

Your frown deepens, and he laughs. “It is but a joke. You can take care of yourself. They won’t do anything to you while we’re gone. Yeosang and San will likely stay to themselves now that Seonghwa has relieved him of his duty to watch you. Jongho will be entertaining enough, no?”

“She is older than us all, no need to treat her as a faerling,” Mingi murmurs.

“She thinks she’s almost three decades old, Mingi.”

“Time to see reality.”

They banter back and forth about you, clueless as to how you’ve already left, steps quiet as you make it to your own bedroom. Seonghwa’s words, no matter how convincing, is not something you believe to be true. He says you conjured up this false reality of your life to blend into the human world, but it makes no sense to you. Nothing, none of it does. You remember your parents, you remember your family life. How you so easily deluded yourself into thinking that it was real when it’s not is beyond your comprehension. Likely because you don’t believe it at all. Why would you hide it from yourself? There is no reason to block your own mind from it - even if you are as he says you are. Jumping to such a conclusion is ridiculous.

No. You’re not a kumiho.

You enter your room, shutting the door behind and locking it. Surely Seonghwa can easily create a spell to allow the others into your room, but he won’t. Not if he so vehemently believes that you’re a creature that he didn’t even think was real. You settle yourself into your sheets, ignoring the lingering feeling in your mind that he might be right.

[spyderlondon]

If it’s all good with you, I wonder if you can do a Zooble x Caine Fic?

After episode 3 I realised that Zooble has probably interacted with Caine the most out of all the cast (except probably Kinger), all by virtue of just staying within the Circus.

This got me thinking, even though he’s upset that they don’t participate in the adventures, does Caine like the company? And does Zooble find Caine’s presence somewhat… relieving? From the self inflicted isolation? Maybe they… like it? ;)

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THE GENEROUS DONATION!

Art and inspiration by @zal-cryptid

Ko-Fi

-------

"Forget it, Caine, I'm not going on that stupid adventure." Zooble told the ringleader with their usual flat, uncaring tone as they turned away to leave.

"WAIT! ZOO-...." Caine stopped himself after a moment and sighed, "...you know what, I'm done trying. You never want to go on these so... forget it." He grimaced, finally just letting them go. It didn't stop his code from hurting from the repeated rejections.

The amalgamation scoffed under their breath while muttering a 'finally' before walking past the other members on the troupe with their usual aloof expression on their face. None of them looked their way almost as if they don't notice them, like they're invisible. No one ever seemed to remember them. Not even Caine sometimes. It's fine.

Caine watched Zooble leave the room from afar, his teeth dipping downwards a little in a frown for a moment before he shook himself out of it so he could face the rest of the troupe, beginning to explain their newest adventure.

---

Caine closed the portal once after everyone had gone through it, everyone except for the one person he had been trying for so long to go on an adventure. His eyes lingered on the spot where the portal was earlier before letting out a sigh, "Bubble, what am I doing wrong here?" He floated low to the ground as if he was sitting and looked at his AI friend, "I'm creating every type of FUN and EXCITING and MATURE adventure I can think of..." His gaze went to the ground, "...but Zooble never wants to even try any of them." He pouted, clamping his teeth down, covering his eyes from view. He sighed, "They used to enjoy the adventures..." He grumbled, not opening his teeth.

"Yea, they did!" Bubble responded as cheerfully as always as he spun around for no reason, "But then something happened! And like everyone else, they got traumatized! Whee!" He began to go in circles as if trying to catch his imaginary tail.

The ringmaster slumped a tiny bit more as he was reminded about the trauma- he never believed he was doing anything to cause that but he recollected what Zooble had told him while he had that therapy session for them- nobody liked his adventures. No one wanted to go on them and the moment they returned... well, according to the amalgamation... it just made things worse.

"Hey, Caine! Why're you so upset, boss?" Bubble prodded as he hovered in front of him with his sharp toothed grin, showing no care as usual, "Is it because of how that human told you how awful you are at yo-..." He was popped by Caine's cane before he could finish that sentence and make his boss even more upset.

The AI ringmaster shook his head before teleporting away so he could check up on the last of his troupe.

----

"Zooble!" Caine suddenly yelled out when he entered the amalgamation's room with his usual grin.

Zooble shouted in surprise as they quickly moved to hide something behind them. They only had one arm at the moment while all of them detachable zooble body parts were off of them, leaving them with just holes that would usually have the body parts in them, "Wh- Caine?!" Their eyes were wide in shock before they slowly went down to their usual indifference, "Why're you in my room?" They asked with a subtle defensiveness in their tone.

"Why, I came to... to..." The ringmaster's gaze fell onto Zooble's mostly limbless body and he went completely silent as he examined their body before his eyes snapped back up to theirs but their eyes were averted and they continued to hide something behind them. He frowned as he floated up to them, "...what are you hiding? Where are all you zooble parts?" He demanded to know, he was always a bit more gruff and strict with them since they were always so cold and unperceptive to him so he had to use a different tactic than with his other players.

Zooble looked away with a scowl, "I was just looking for new ones to switch them out with." The grumbled, staying where they were stubbornly, their expression was stoic as ever but their eyes betrayed a sense of fear and nervousness to them that Caine didn't like, it almost made him feel a sense of protectiveness that he hadn't felt with the others. He sighed and with a flick of his wrist, he forcibly moved them away from the zooble box they were hiding, "W-Wait- Caine!" They tried get out of the telekinetic like hold he had over them but to no avail.

"Now, now, Zooble, I just must see what you're hiding. It's impolite, you know?" He 'tsked' softly to the amalgamation, "I asked kindly for you to show me but when you refused, I just had to use drastic measures." He shook his head as he started to float over to the zooble body parts box.

"Did you not think that there may be a [^&%*&] reason why I didn't tell you?!" Zooble continued to struggle against the telekinesis, a panic rising in them since they knew they might end up screwed once the ringmaster saw what they were hiding.

"Don't be ridiculous, Zooble!" Caine barked out a laugh as he got in front of the box but not yet looking at it as his eyes were on the disgruntled, one armed player nearby for a second before his gaze roamed over to the box, "There's nothing in this box that would sho- HOLY ME, ZOOBLE!" His eyes popped out from between his teeth as he caught sight of what they were hiding.

Just outside the chest were numerous detachable body parts that weren't... usable anymore. Not in the slightest. He stared at them as he floated closer to the ground as the colorful eyes on the discarded limbs looked up at him and seemed to grow in intensity as if they got frustrated just by looking at him as if they blamed him. He tensed up before looking at the amalgamation, "...these... these are all-..." He trailed off as he stared at the black limbs on the ground, "Have you...?"

".....starting to." They admitted begrudgingly as they were finally released from the telekinesis but they just averted their gaze, they could feel the ringmaster's gaze on them and it made them feel even more frustrated, "No one else knows... please don't tell anyone else..." They gripped their side before as the slid down to the ground, keeping their eyes off of the colorful eyes that were staring at them now.

He stared at them in silence for a moment before his eyes returned to the abstracted zooble body parts that were wriggling and writhing on the ground before he peered inside the chest before grimacing as he saw more of the same, about half were abstracted parts while the others were getting infected at a decent pace. He grunted at that before quietly sending the chest into the basement before closing it in a muted way, before simply looking at the ground. This was a first for him... and he hated it. He didn't want to lose someone for once in his artificial life, he actually cared about one of the human.

After a few moments of Caine being silent Zooble couldn't help but shift nervously, they've seen what he does to abstractions or how how could possibly react badly towards something or someone doing something that displeased the AI, they didn't want to become the next target, "Caine-...?" They reached out with their singular arm, their hand trembling a bit, they could feel their mind beginning buzz and their body felt a little numb as they felt as if the ringleader was purposely ignore them or becoming cold, "...please... say something..." They mumbled, their voice uncharacteristically cracking a bit as if their vocal cords were straining.

Caine's fingers were tapping on his pants before a low sigh before he turned around to face his player and snapped his fingers and new zooble limbs were placed in the arms and legs sockets that were empty along with a couple head pieces before having the corrupted chest be replaced with a new one, "Consider this forgotten." He raised his fingers to snap himself away but paused, glancing away, "I won't let you leave my circus so easily. You're my favorite challenge."

Poof!

He was gone.

[aureliaporter]

family dinner

summary: ayato ropes his long term partner into meeting his family

a/n: he would so do this and i would so slap him for it >:(

cw: gn!reader, like one curse word, meeting the family (ayaka, thoma), mention of yeeting ayato off the cliff his estate is on, clingy!ayato

OF ALL THE ways you were expecting today to go, it was most definitely not like this. but of course, part of ayato’s schedule had finally cleared up, so you suppose it couldn’t be helped.

“(y/n)? could i implore you to be a dear and pass me the salt?”

you shot a scowl at your partner, passing him the salt with a sarcastic, “but of course, my lord. would you like the pepper as well?”

“that would be much appreciated, darling.”

you stared at him, trying to convey how very frustrated you were with him at this moment, but he merely smiled cheerily at you. unbelievable. you passed the pepper as well with a sigh, quickly schooling your features into pleasant indifference as ayaka’s gaze passed to you, her asking about you and her brother’s relationship.

that’s right. instead of taking you on a date to celebrate his night off, or even a stroll or just a quiet dinner together, he had decided it was time you met his sister. which would’ve been completely fine, if he’d just told you beforehand.

so now, you were in awkward conversation with your boyfriend’s sister and his best friend, who had also been invited - but of course ayato had told him just what kind of dinner this was. a half fancy, half casual, completely awkward and stifling dinner. or maybe you were the only one feeling the nerves.

“so, how long have you two been dating?” thoma asked, eager to escape the silence. ayato glanced at you expectantly, as if to tell you to respond.

“oh? did you happen to forget?” you asked ayato, leaning your chin on your hand. “it hasn’t been that long, really-”

“we’ve been dating for a year and four months,” he cut off, pouting at you. his eyes were pleading, as if asking you to punish him for this later on instead of now. you sighed, relenting.

“yeah, a year and four - nearly five, actually - months. he asked me out during the irodori festival,” you said, offering your partner a small smile at the memory. you may want to toss him off the cliff his family estate sat on at the moment, but you still loved him.

“oh, that’s so sweet! how’d he do it?” ayaka asked, leaning forward a bit. you exchanged a glance with ayato, wondering if he wanted to tell the full story. he had ended up embarrassing himself quite badly during it, if you recalled correctly.

“well, i took them on a stroll away from the city, and we watched the star shower that happened on the last night, remember?” he said, smiling at you. “and then i asked them, and they said yes. and they haven’t gotten sick of me yet,” he added, chuckling and nudging you with his shoulder.

you pursed your lips to hold back a laugh, recalling a slightly different version of events. thoma noticed, raising his eyebrows. “oh? is lord kamisato withholding information?” he asked, an amused smile tugging his lips up.

a glare from ayato made thoma cover his smile with his hand, but you plowed on through. “of course he is. have you ever known him to give the full story?” you asked, chuckling softly. ayato’s eyes widened, realizing what you were about to do.

“(y/n), if you have any love for me, you won’t tell them,” he pleaded, holding your hand between both of his. “i’ll buy you boba for three weeks straight. i’ll cancel all my meetings for the next week.”

ayaka and thoma both started laughing lightly at his blatant attempt of bribery. you smirked at your boyfriend, taking one of his hands to kiss his knuckles teasingly.

“i don’t know, hun. i feel like thoma and ayaka deserve the truth, don’t you?” you asked, pressing your lips together to hold back a grin.

he groaned, thudding his head on your shoulder. “please, (y/n), don’t you love me? you can’t go around telling people about that.”

you merely giggled softly, patting his back. “well, your servants already know, don’t they? what’s the harm if two more people find out?”

“my ego will be harmed.”

“it’s far too big to begin with, dear brother,” ayaka chimed in, an amused smile tugging at her lips. “it could do with deflating.”

he shook his head, holding you tighter. “no, it doesn’t need that. my ego is perfect,” he grumbled. you saw thoma and ayaka shared a glance. the head of the kamisato clan is practically a child.

“alright, then i won’t tell them,” you said, trying to tug ayato off of you. “your secrets are safe with me, milord. happy?”

he perked up, pulling back from your shoulder only to tug you into a hug. if he had a tail, you swear you’d see it wagging. “very much so, my dearest. in fact, i think it’s time we retire, hm?” he said, pulling you up from the table - most likely not wanting to give you any chance to change your mind.

ayaka and thoma waved at you two as you left, ayato leading you outside to the garden. he didn’t say anything at first, but he slumped against you, leaning on you from behind and making you stagger underneath his weight.

“did you have to tease me like that?” he asked, his arms wrapped around your shoulders. you could hear the pout in his voice, biting your lip to keep yourself from smiling.

“i don’t know, did you have to keep the fact that i was officially meeting your sister a secret?”

he kept silent, his hold around your shoulders slipping to around your torso. “.. no. i’m sorry,” he said softly, his breath tickling your neck.

you sighed, raising a hand to pat his head. he practically melted into your touch, enjoying the feeling as your fingers danced over his hair. “it’s fine. but next time you pull shit like this, i’m going straight to miko and publishing the story of how exactly you asked me out.”

he whined, clinging tighter to you. “fine, fine. i won’t do it again. just don’t go to miko, please.”

you chuckled, tugging at his hair to get him to whine again, this time in slight pain. “i won’t, alright? truce?” you asked, offering your hand to shake his. he ignored it, nodding and squeezing you tighter. “alright, let go before you manage to cut off my circulation,” you said, attempting to wiggle out of his hold. he grumbled but released you in favor of looping your arm through his.

“shall we go for that stroll you wanted?” he offered, smiling softly at you. you nodded, letting him lead you out of the estate grounds and along the path, lit only by the moonlight.

---

extra:

your combined laughter wound through the air as ayato tugged you along, a smile on his handsome face and his hair a mess from the wind. you tried to reach up to fix it for him, but he caught your hands, not caring for his current appearance and preferring to pull you along the beach. you both stumbled along, too caught up in each other and the star shower. then he was wrapping his arm around your shoulder, pointing to the sky. a gasp left your lips as you watched the millions of lights that whizzed through the sky towards the ground, mimicking rain. you didn’t even notice ayato moving behind you, stepping into the shallow water.

“(y/n),” he said softly, his voice calling your attention. you turned around, surprised to see him holding a small bouquet of flowers - small enough to fit in his sleeves.

“ayato?” you said, tone curious. what was with the flowers?

before he could say anything, he took a step forward, foot landing on a slippery rock and stumbling. you reached forward to help him, but before you could, he was landing in the water with a splash, clothes soaked, flowers hanging limply, and expression shocked.

“i..” he started, an embarrassed flush covering his face. you couldn’t help but chuckle, reaching down to help him up.

“ayato, i know you’ve a hydro vision, but that doesn’t mean you won’t get a cold. c’mon, let’s get you home,” you said, pulling him up and hurrying him back to the kamisato estate. when you attempted to leave, wanting him to rest and then to see him tomorrow, he merely clung to your wrist, pleading with you to stay. so you stayed until he was dry and in his nightclothes, the pair of you sitting on the edge of his bed.

“ayato, i should get going. you need to sleep, and there’s a lot of work with closing the irodori festival tomorrow,” you reasoned, looking up at him. he had been looking rather deep in thought ever since he’d fallen into the water, eyebrows constantly knit together. “ayato?”

he looked up, his expression now determined. “(y/n), i.. have something i’d like to ask. that i couldn’t ask earlier.”

you tilted your head at him, curiosity piquing. “alright. what’s up?”

he reached for your hands, holding them in his and brushing his thumbs over your knuckles. “(y/n), i.. i understand this may seem a bit.. out of the blue, but i have been thinking of this for a while. and i had it planned perfectly, to be honest. earlier, with the star shower, and the flowers, and the beach, and you.. and i was the only thing that wasn’t working right,” he said, sounding oddly self-depreciating for a moment.

“ayato..?” you started, worry painting your tone. “what are you getting at?”

he sighed, squeezing your hands. “(y/n), i.. i would be very happy if you’d do me the honor of courting me.”

silence wrapped around you two for a few seconds, you blinking at ayato as you attempted to form a response. eventually; “you do realize you could’ve just asked me on a date like anybody else.”

he shook his head, squeezing your hands again. “i wanted to be better than anybody else. but i messed that up, too.”

you sighed, tugging one of your hands out of his hold to cradle his cheek. “you’re an idiot,” you said, kissing his cheek. “i would’ve dated you if you sent thoma to ask me in your stead.”

“.. would you actually have?”

“no.”

“.. so we’re official?”

“yes. now go to bed. i don’t want you whining to me about how tired you are tomorrow.”

nevertheless, the pair of you ended up staying awake late into the night, talking until you both passed out. and when ayato whined to you the next morning, you merely passed him a cup of coffee, patting his head gently. who could hate a cutie like him?

ayato is my baby so i am implored to right fanfic about him. however its a slight crime i wrote for him before xiao since xiao is my forever bby but its okay its okay

anyways! hope you guys enjoyed once again! also holy shit im shocked at the love my last two got :0 thank you guys so much!! <3

[yunarim]

╰┈➤ summary : you and your reliable partner grim are the most famous interdimensional travelers under the Official Isekai Association. you're used to traveling into psychological thrillers and horrors. however, this time something goes wrong, and you suddenly turn into the protagonist of… an otome game?!

— characters : jade leech, leona kingscholar | kalim al-asim, azul ashengrotto | lilia vanrouge, idia shroud

⌞tags⌝ : gn reader, fluff at times, occasional angst, typical manhwas tropes, mention of a typical isekai manhwa death by truck hit... yeah, you go from the first route to the last (from jade to idia), hence the parts are connected — w.c. : 4.6k+

⌞notes⌝ : i've been reading too much isekai mangas/manhwas lately and here we go lmao. also forgive me for not writing for so long, i've been experiencing a huge burnout ;; i originally intended to write for dorm leaders but then gave it a second thought and came up with another plan hhhhhh i hope i'll manage to finish other chapters on time but pls be patient with me, i'm preoccupied with too much work lately 😭😭

You sigh and stretch out your hand, looking at it while lying on the bed, and wonder, how in the dimension did you manage to land in an otome game realm. You heard your colleagues complaining how annoying those can be, not to mention many of you forgot about romantic relationships long long ago—when you probably got hit by a truck in your original world?—and to think you somehow appeared in a world which didn’t belong to your department. 

Your specialization was horror and psychological thriller stories, and even if you possess no magic (which is strange, given after transmigrating for so many times, you don’t remember getting magic abilities at least for once, but whatever), you’ve got an excellent, strategic mastermind. And if something dangerous happens, you have your partner and friend, Grim.

“It’s been a while since we’ve isekaed into a high school setting,” you say to yourself, system windows appearing before your eyes. 

“Main goal: TO GET A HAPPY ENDING WITH *name*!!”

Ah really…

You set a reminder and throw a quick glance at already fallen asleep Grim before going to sleep yourself. If you can’t escape the world until you complete it, then so be it.

“Event: TO BECOME A SCHOOL COUNCIL PRESIDENT: success!!”

One mention of a school student council you’ve encountered in many worlds (though possessing not really sweet memories of dealing with many psychological intrigues and schemes), and the local headmaster named Crowley happened to be fairly overjoyed and excited to proclaim you as a council’s president, much to everyone’s indifference chagrin. 

You were quite surprised to realize that the school that large didn’t invent such a common structure. On the second note, it was easy for you to operate and deal with information provided through leading the council. Much to your chagrin this time, you needed to pick a route to escape this world.

It was an otome game. You couldn’t care less at first, assuming you and Grim landed in another horror, however a fantasy atmosphere lingering everywhere made you two slightly confused. And the conclusion was made right after you saw heart-shaped indicators above six people’s heads. 

“Do you remember what our colleagues told us about otome games?..” You asked Grim, sitting in the auditorium that Crowley assigned as the Council’s room. 

“Nah,” Grim yawned. “Not my field.”

“As if it’s mine,” you frowned. “What, not even MC’s words? She ended up transmigrating into a closed apartament and had only 11 days to get an ending…”

“Come to think of it, we have 11 days till the festival.”

You raised your head, turning to the voice’s source, and slightly parted your lips. 

“Jade,” you said, standing up. “Good afternoon.”

Jade Leech, to be more precise. You’ve scanned through his profile when you first interacted with him two weeks ago when you ended up transmigrating here in Twisted Wonderland. As expected of a fantasy world, he wasn’t a normal human being, but belonged to merfolk. You don’t remember having much experience with them, and maybe picking him as your first route wasn’t exactly your best choice.

“Good luck on surviving the event,” Grim said, jumping off the chair he was sitting on, and headed to the exit.

“Ah,” Jade’s feigned surprise made you blink at him questionably. “How unfortunate, you’re supposed to help us with the preparations, Grim-san.”

You saw a system window popping up above your head as a reminder of not forgetting your main goal, and sighed.

“Not this kind of event he meant…” You mumbled, knowing exactly well that Jade heard you. 

“How about we discuss the budget, Yuu-san?” Leech took a seat beside you, to which you nodded. 

Appointed as a council’s treasurer, Jade actually managed his sources with an outstanding performance. Since you had no experience in entering otome realms, it was quite hard for you to predict what was going to happen next. Your fellow transmigrators you barely saw in the interdimensional space used to exchange their thoughts on their journeys before traveling to the next world, and somehow you, who witnessed a ton of horror stories, possessed psyche of a solidity, while otome novels and games travelers happened to be constantly overworked and heavily damaged in terms of their minds.

You never asked why. They’ve mentioned the necessity to go through an endless amount of routes and paths, to make people fall in love with them, and then leave them behind in their worlds. You also heard the system was erasing their memories, so they would live happily after experiencing love and joy of being loved, but the system never really cared about the travelers themselves. 

The department you were assigned to provided you with a psychotherapists’ help if needed after coming back to the office, so you would heal after experiencing terrible things and emotional drainings, but your and Grim’s emotional state has never reached the point of damaged position. 

Some of your colleagues even stated that you were emotionless and—

“Yuu-san?” you found Jade leaning closer to you, his face showing slight hints of a false worry made of politeness. “Is everything alright?”

“Yes, I am sorry. Let’s continue.”

“I’ll be honest with you,” Leech stood up and came to the bar counter of the Mostro Lounge you’ve been occupying for the council discussions regarding the upcoming festival. 

“You don’t seem like the type to be honest with people,” you let the conclusion slip of your tongue before meeting his gaze you couldn’t decipher. 

“Then would you like to consider this an observation? A remark of sorts.”

“Alright then.”

“Sometimes it’s quite peculiar how you’re so composed and calm for a magicless person who got here in a school of magic,” a majestic coffee aroma filled the room. “Not to mention we’re fairly… uncommon individuals here.”

“You seem quite normal to me,” you answer emotionlessly, closing your eyes. “But you can say my opinion of what ‘normal’ is may differ from others. Yours, too.”

“Then I would be really willing to know how exactly.”

His voice suddenly appeared really close to your ear, but you didn't even raise an eyebrow, accepting a coffee cup from his elegant hands and looked at him.

Normally you wouldn’t want to have people interfering in your business, but a heart-shaped vitreous icon with a pink liquid in it made you widen your eyes in surprise. 

There was no liquid in it before. 

Now that you think about it, yes, your colleagues said there were indicators showing your progress, and apparently you really made it further, somehow managing to get Jade interested in you more than he was. 

“You’ve seemed to be spacing out a lot lately, Yuu-san.”

“Now that the festival is almost here, I guess I’m slightly nervous.”

“You don’t seem to be the type to get nervous so easily.”

You suddenly chuckle with a light grin on your face at his reversed pun and sip a coffee he brewed.

“It’s brilliant,” you compliment his work, staring straight at his mismatched eyes and seeing something in there. “May I ask you to brew this exclusively for me when the festival comes? In order to celebrate our successful and thoughtful work.”

“It would be my greatest pleasure.”

You had no idea about how romance works, but you did know you needed to get on Jade’s route as quickly as you could and come back to the office immediately. You wanted to get the detailed information about how you ended up transmigrating into an otome game, so now, sitting in the library and reading mycology books, you hoped to find something useful.

“Aha!” You exclaimed, summoning your transmigrator’s interface and taking a screenshot of a book page containing a mushroom’s drawing. “This is it!”

A mushroom which could be served as a component of a firework supplement, making it iridescent in rainbow colors right in the sky, which also was overflowing when put in soil. You found yourself smiling at the thought of Jade’s reaction, and headed to the mountain near the school.

Unfortunately, you’ve spent all the transmigrator currency you’ve earned during the previous isekai on preparations to the festival, thus you couldn’t afford any equipment for climbing. Well, even if something happens, you still have the system to save your progress, so you could reload and try again. Thinking about the demerits you could get for being not careful and damaging your body made you cringe, though.

You've reached the mountain, and a deep dark forest loomed before your eyes, a cold and moistened fog made you shiver in displeasure. How unfortunate that such a beautiful colorful mushroom grew in such an obscure place.

You made your way further, checking the map with the system tools, and took one more step to darkness. A small iridescent light on the ground made you rash towards it, and you grabbed the mushroom you were looking for.

“Here you are!” You smiled, grabbing more of them, but…

A sudden feeling of ground slipping under your feet made you scream in horror and turn off all the system signs, alerting you about the danger you’ve encountered. 

Who knew there was a cliff?! 

You tried to grab onto the branches of the occasionally falling trees to slow down your uncontrolled flight, but they were more likely to do more harm than good. You somehow felt someone’s gaze on you, but there was no time to think it thoroughly. You were ready to collapse on the damp ground, but a sudden prehensile grip prevented your fall, and you opened your eyes in a daze.

“Are you alright?!”

You could promise a genuine—this time—worry slid over Jade’s confused face, but he quickly tried to regain his composure. You took a look at his grip and wondered if he’s going to let you go, but at your gaze he instead tightened it, holding you even closer.

“What were you thinking, going to the forest unequipped…”

“Don’t worry,” you’ve tried reassuring him, but receiving only a frown. “I would have survived.”

“Falling from this height?” He asked, his voice raising slightly. 

“”... I believe you’re not the type to worry about others,” you mumble.

“What made you think I was worried?” He chuckled, still not letting you go. “Would have been troublesome if you died on the school grounds.” 

“No,” you answered with a suspicious calmness you’d better hide. “You’re worried. Your pupils tremble.” 

“... Let this be at least in theory,” he sighed. “But what made you come here?”

“Oh,” you sigh and finally unclench your scratched fists and hand over only one mushroom you’ve managed to preserve. “Here. I wanted to give you this mushroom. It’s iridescent and can be used for— Huh?”

Jade chuckled, looking into the sky which suddenly shone pretty bright with glimmering stars, and sighed heavily, finally letting you go of his grip, but holding your shoulders nevertheless, obviously scared of you falling. 

“So you did this for me.”

“Yes, I did, but what… Ah.”

You looked up at his head where the heart icon was, seeing the liquid feeling almost to the top, and gasped. 

So he was genuinely worried.

“It seems you’ve realized something,” he said, fixing a strand of your hair and smiling rather wearily. “I’ve never thought you’re the type to risk your life for getting gifts, Yuu-san. Especially for me, given how actually twisted I am.”

You found yourself giggling softly at his remark.

“I’m the twisted type myself. I believe.”

When the festival came, you thought you wouldn't be able to see Jade due to how busy you two were.

He was busy with calculations, and also constantly disappeared in the kitchen due to the insufficient number of workers, but somehow everything went smoothly.

You were greeting the guests by showing them the area and were up all day long actually dreaming of laying down, while Grim helped with the special effects on stage spraying his blue flames along with the rest of the guys.

Finally, it was time for the fireworks show, and you, making sure everything was under control and the visitors were enjoying the show, went to the roof of the school, dreaming of relaxing on the bench alone.

Being in an otome was tiring you out more than you thought it would, and you laughed at how you presumed you would just allure the love interests and get back home. 

You grew to genuinely like Jade maybe not as a love interest, but maybe even someone closer than a character of another world. 

“Resting here all alone?” 

A familiar voice was heard, but you didn’t dare to look, continuing keeping your gaze fixed on the night sky, knowing exactly well who came.

“Ashengrotto has finally freed you from the kitchen?”

“You could say so, even though Leona-san asked for an extra meat dish I’ve created yesterday…”

“Is that so…” You smiled as Jade sat right next to you, lying on the bench. “The fireworks show is going to start soon, right?”

“Not just soon,” he chuckled. “Right now.”

There were loud bangs just after a thin thread of light pierced the night sky and burst into a bouquet of multicolored lights that shimmered in rainbow colors right under the stars, and you released a smile from your lips, surprised at your sincere joy.

“It’s beautiful.”

Jade silently watched the show with you and then bent over your face, covering the view of a clear night sky when the show was over. An unfamiliar expression on his face made you blink in surprise. 

“It is beautiful, indeed.”

“Somehow I feel you’re not talking about fireworks?..” You questioned, chuckling, and gasped the second after.

The heart icon was fully filled, a bright pink light radiating from it and covering Jade’s cheeks with a slight pink hue. Or wasn’t it an icon?..

“You know, Yuu-san,” Jade smiled. “You were right when you said I’m not the honest type, but right at this moment, let me tell you something.”

“I’m all ears.”

“Thank you for your beautiful gift,” he said. “I’ll treasure it. And also… you.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to say something, stretching your hand and touching his cheek, cold because of a night breeze and maybe just because he was always naturally like that, and dared to cover his eyes with your hand. 

“Thank you for appearing in my life. I’ll treasure you too.”

And with that his soft chuckle dissolved in a bright light and system notifications, congratulating you with getting a happy ending.

Happy ending, starting again in your room with a piercing pain in your heart.

“Ah…” You said, seeing Grim sleep peacefully next to you. “So that is why they said otome games are hard to escape.”

Shit, you thought, waking up the next morning. 

You came to the conclusion that it wasn’t really necessary for you to fall in love with the love interest (it was enough just to open up to him?), and weren’t sure if Jade really grew to like you. 

But you definitely came to a realization that it was painful to see him in the hall, talking to his brother and noticing you, nodding in a greeting way with a familiar feigned politeness, a glimpse of warmth, which appeared in your previous walkthrough, was no longer lingering underneath his eyes. 

You found yourself wanting to taste a coffee he brewed for you exclusively, but he was no longer here by your side, his profile image became gray, and a ‘COMPLETED’ line appeared in capital letters in the system interface. 

Was that it? All the feelings both of you developed turned into a finished story without any chance for rereading it? Otome games were unfair. But transmigrating still was your main job you couldn’t decline, and even in thrillers and horrors you used to enter so often there were people who you genuinely liked and treasured.

Still, you knew that once the story ended, you got back into the office and traveled to another world, then another, and another, and… There was no point in developing feelings anymore.

You chuckled to yourself when Jade passed through you, and raised your head, meeting someone else’s intense gaze.

Leona Kingscholar. The system made a melodious sound, letting you know about your next ‘target’. You quickly checked his profile, appearing right before standing in front of you Leona, and wondered, what type of a character he would be. 

Slightly older than his classmates, and he also belonged to royalty, how very interesting. You closed the system interface with a snap of fingers and greeted your next… target.

“Good morning. May I help you… Eh?”

Leona approached you, his face suddenly extremely close to yours, and sniffed your neck, then clavicles and stared at your eyes, allowing you to notice how beautifully the emeralds of his were shining.

“What a strange smell.”

“Excuse me, I took a shower in the morning.”

“Not that,” Leona sighed, a heart above his head being absolutely empty and transparent. “The smell, not of magic, but similar. Also like that fish guy.”

“Fish guy?..”

He was probably speaking about Jade, but how in the world did he manage to sniff that?! Your eyes widened in shock for a brief moment. 

“If you’re talking about Ja… Leech, then maybe it’s because hu just was there.”

“Whatever,” Leona shrugged, sniffing you once more, to which you attempted to distant yourself. “There’s also a dirt smell. And also raining, alcohol, hospital… A blood? What the hell, herbivore?”

Now this wasn’t funny at all. The last world you’ve transmigrated into was centered around a story about doctors, crimes and, well, the usual horror stuff you had to deal with, and how did Leona manage to casually sniff it on you like that?

Naturally, you wanted to get rid of any suspicions and shrug it off, but you also needed to get him on your side and find a way to reach a happy ending with him. A slight fearful thought of collecting people’s hearts like some sort of a hobby slid through your mind, making you nauseous, but you swallowed the feeling and forced a cheeky smile.

“Care to figure it out?”

Leona looked at you with an unreadable emotion and made his way to the exit, leaving you all confused.

“It’s not my business, herbivore. But do something about this smell, it’s disgusting, Savanaclaw students are really sensitive to the smell this strong.”

“As if I can just wash it away…” You mumbled to yourself, following Leona’s distancing figure with your gaze and parting your lips in a surprise way when noticing a little amount of pink liquid in the heart above his head.

So you did pique his interest, after all.

The progress with Leona’s route was incredibly slow and strange. You took the sequence the system suggested automatically, providing you with calculations regarding the difficulty on each walkthrough, and at first you blinked questionably at Leona’s one, seeing only 40%, since now you’ve been feeling all 100%. 

He wasn’t hard to find — the botanical garden was his second alma mater, and yet when his words he said to you the first day of his route lingered in your mind, ‘It’s not my business’ line repeating in your head like an annoying pop song, you almost thought that it really was not his problem at all, as if he totally didn’t care.

You almost convinced yourself, but small steps you took towards him also helped you in discovering concealed aspects of his character.

At first you visited the botanical garden just out of a habit you’ve managed to form in other isekais, and ended up finding Leona there without fail every time. At first you were silent, observing him and his unwavering composure—you thought of that as indifference—but not so long after you took the first attempt to start a casual conversation.

“Leona,” you once said, seeing him sleeping under the tree and knowing he heard you talking. “Do I still, uhm, reek?..”

“I sense the strong smell of that fish guy.” 

How in the world did Jade’s lingering scent still remain on you?

“And also that bat.”

“Bat?” You asked, wondering who he meant. 

“Lilia Vanrouge.”

You knitted your brows together at his reply. You saw Vanrouge only once, right before Leona came into the garden one day, and briefly talked to him. Lilia was also listed among your potential ‘love interests’, but a 100% difficulty level was confusing to you, and the one talk you had did really confirm that he’s going to be a tough character to deal with. To make him fall in love with?..

“I see… I wonder how it works for you beastmen, your sense of smell.”

“Like a second skin,” Leona opened one eye and glanced your way. “I don’t get how you humans live with such a short range of smell.”

“I think that’s only about you,” you suddenly said, meeting Leona’s gaze. “No one from Savanaclaw other than you mentioned what I smell like.” 

A short pause stretched between you two, but somehow you didn’t find it unpleasant, more like relaxing and thoughtful. Kingscholar chuckled, tapping on the spot beside him with his tail and attracting your attention.

“Yes?”

“Come here.”

You did as he said, wondering what was that about, and ended up being held in his arms. He sniffed you once again, but with more care and politeness than he did the first time, while you couldn’t tear away your fixated gaze on his bright focused eyes.

“Those strange scents are still on you. What kind of life did you live before getting here, herbivore…”

“And you said it’s not your business, huh,” you grinned and gasped the second after he suddenly laid on your lap. “Hey!”

“It’s still not my business though.” He answered, closing his eyes and resting comfortably. “But don’t get near other Savanaclaws. It’s really a disgusting smell.”

“Which is why you’re on my lap, am I being correct?” You chuckled. “Still, I don’t think others have the audacity to come near me. Or such a strong sense of smell like you do. You’re impressive, Leona.”

For a moment you thought he stopped breathing, but then heard a bitter laugh coming from his lips.

“One day you’ll take your words back.”

Till today you really wondered what he meant by that, seeing no particular reason to actually question his skills. Even despite his poor attendance and self-deprecating lines, he really was an amazing, outstandingly clever person you really did want to get to know more.

And today an occasion came up, when you visited the botanical garden again, now it was more out of a habit, and found Leona with the first-year students you didn’t know, challenging him in chess. 

“Good afternoon everyone,” you greeted them, hearing excited ‘hello’ from other students and receiving a light nod from Leona. “What are you doing?”

“Miserably failing to win Kingscholar-senpai in a chess match,” one of the students answered. “No one has succeeded yet…”

“Check and mate,” Leona announced, when the first year he played cried out of indignation. 

“How are you so talented in chess, Kingscholar-senpai!!..”

“Hmph,” Leona chuckled, but you somehow knew somewhere underneath his ever-so-mighty persona he was genuinely happy to receive those compliments. “Right, herbivore. Come play with me while I’m in the mood.”

You tilted your head, thinking beforehand. You couldn’t remember the last time you played, but possessing a naturally inquisitive and quick-witted mind due to your job, you nodded, taking a seat in front of him.

The match was silent, and if at first you heard first years hitched breaths, during the second hour passing of the match, even those students left, leaving a silence lingering between you two. 

“I really admire you, Leona,” you dared to break the silence, seeing Leona’s hand holding a chess piece stop for a second. 

“Flattery will take you to nowhere,” he replied, performing an en passant of your pawn, to which you pouted. “Huh, you can be cute sometimes.”

“And you can be sweet, I see,” you flirted back. “But… I’m sorry. Checkmate, Leona.”

Two knights endgame, huh. 

Leona was staring at the chess board for a fairly concerning amount of time before bursting into laughs. 

“W-what’s wrong?..”

“Remember I said you’ll take your words back?” He raised his gaze to meet yours. “Take it now. Tell me I’m not impressive anymore now that you’ve outsmarted me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, feeling annoyed.

“What are you saying.”

“I can’t believe it, huh,” he laughed again. “You, a magicless human, out of people… Hah! What a ridiculously clever herbivore you are. It pisses me off.”

“You know what? Shut up.”

You grabbed his shirt, seeing his absolutely unimpressed expression, and clenched your fists with even more force than you thought you would, and pressed your forehead to his, chess pieces scattering around the table. 

“Even when you have no one to believe in your abilities, even you yourself doubt them…” You took a deep breath. “I myself will be that one person who will believe in you AND believe you.”

You heard a splash, realizing it was the liquid in the heart above his head filling half of it, and then a genuine laughter came from Leona’s chest.

“You’re insane, herbivore.”

You really were insane, indeed. 

To the point you couldn’t even take a quick look at Leona in the past week due to him being anywhere but near you, which annoyed you for sure. You had a whole month planned for you two to spend together in case his route appeared too difficult to reach an ending, so many things to witness, but instead…

Instead you managed to meet Jade thrice or even more, then stumble upon Lilia ‘ku-fu-fu’-ing at you cheerfully and mysteriously, and all those were driving you crazy slowly. You wanted to have a chat with Jade who portrayed no such interest you used to witness in his route, much to your dismay, but you also wanted to finally find Leona and genuinely get to know him more.

“Oh, Yuu-san.”

You were resting at the school yard, students walking here and there, chatting and playing, and you saw Jade approaching you, nodding to him.

“Good afternoon.”

“Oya, isn’t it Yuu?”

… Jade and Lilia. And no signs of Leona or whatsoever. You blinked at them, trying to conceal your honest feelings, and listened to them talking.

“It’s rare to see you all alone,” Jade noticed. 

“Indeed, you could be often seen in Leona’s company. Did you two have a quarrel?”

“We…” Despite how much you wanted to protest, you weren’t sure anymore. 

“We have not.”

A sudden warmth spreading in your chest and a heart pounding faster than it was made you turn to Leona, who appeared behind your back, and you smiled at him.

“Herbivore,” he called you, shoving his nose into the crook of your neck and making you giggle. “One week of me being busy, and you already have such a strong scent of those two. How come?”

“Look who’s talking.”

“My my, do you have a problem with us?” Lilia obviously tried to tease Leona, but the last one suddenly fell silent.

“Leona?..”

“Yeah, I have one.”

His arms enveloping you made you yelp softly, and an unfamiliar burning on your cheeks made you bite your lips and stare at Leona’s cheeky expression.

“I liked it more when you had an aroma of garden’s flowers on you more. And also…”

A kiss he pressed on your lips was bright, passionate, also confusing to everyone else, and very much awaited by you. 

“That way I don’t need to worry anymore. Care for another game of chess, herbivore?”

You smiled at him, wanting to reply instantly, but the heart icon above filled to its max, and splashing beats of bright light covered your watering eyes. 

“Yes, let’s play one more time, Leona!..”

You… 

You really were growing to hate otome games to your very heart.

© yunarim 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝. 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭, 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐦𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐲, 𝐨𝐫 𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐚𝐬 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐨𝐰𝐧.

[heaven4lostgirls]

July (E.M)

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warning: toxic relationship, yelling, angst, breakup, eddie is a dick, eddie meltdown

summary: based off of the song ‘july’ by noah cyrus

word count: 1.1k

a/n: was in the mood to write some angst so here you go! this is kind of heavy so proceed with caution, also new theme anyone?

“I’m sorry Eddie! Just listen to me please” you plead as he continues to storm through the door of your shared apartment. He’s seeing red and your body is filled with anxiety, this is not how you imagined your birthday evening going.

“How am I supposed to listen to you when that’s all I’ve been doing this entire evening?! It’s like you didn’t even want me there” he cries as he cracks open another bottle of beer and slinks onto the couch. He had spent the better part of the evening making his usual jokes, often at your own expense and you tried to take it with a pinch of salt, but you were so tired of being the butt of the joke.

“I don’t know what you want me to say Eddie, all I’ve asked is that you stop making jokes about me like that-”

“No! what do you did was make me look like an asshole in front of your friends, I’m always the bad guy when you’re around them, even Chrissy see’s it!”

There it is. The entire fucking reason this conversation happened. Eddie was always bringing up Chrissy in your presence, how often could you hear the name of another girl leave your boyfriends mouth before you had enough? The answer? Right now.

“I’m so sick of you bringing up Chrissy whenever we argue Eddie! She is not your girlfriend! I am!” you cry shamelessly as you explode in front of him as he already looks completely over the conversation. You don’t have it in you to keep having these arguments.

“Why am I never enough for you?” your voice cracks and Eddie’s indifferent expression fades when he realises this isn’t your usual arguments, not once have you ever questioned his love for you and his heart drops to his stomach as he realises this just may be your breaking point.

“Wait, wait hold on sweetheart-”

“I don’t think I can do this anymore Eddie” you sniffle, and your hands shake as you wipe your tears. Eddie shakes his head vehemently and tries to reach out for you, but you step away from him. He’s sick to his fucking stomach. He spent most of the argument angry, so sure of himself that you were in the wrong but as of right now, he’s not so sure.

“Let’s just talk this through o-okay? Please let’s just have a conversation” he pleads as he anxiously begs you to listen to pathetic reasons before you decide to walk out on him.

“I can’t Eddie, not when I’ve spent the last 3 months lying in bed alone as you throw back beers watching tv with Chrissy on the phone.” You tell him and watch as his expression turns fearful at your impassive yet pitiful gaze at his trembling form.

 “I waited for you” your voice cracks alongside Eddie’s heart. “I waited for you to climb into bed, tell me you love me, that I was enough for you, and you never did” tears roll silently down your face and Eddie looks close to bawling.

His eyes fill with his own tears at the reality of losing you,, he’s blocked out the noise surrounding him as he purely focuses  on your fragile form, your makeup is smeared and your hands are shaking, he remembers how he used to hold you, be your sense of comfort when the anxiety took over and now he’s become the sole perpetuator of the same monster’s  he swore he’d protect you from.

“Please baby- please just let me fix this okay? Let me fix us!” he probably  looks pathetic on his knees as he tries to pull you into him, you resist but his shaking and sobbing form is enough to let you relent and place your hand on his head as you turn your face to the ceiling, willing the tears to stop.

“Do you remember what you told me when you saw Chrissy at the bar last week?” you whisper quietly to Eddie’s shaking form, he sniffles and shakes his head, looking up to you with red rimmed eyes.

“I asked to leave because I felt uncomfortable and you told me to go, said you’d meet me at home” you chuckle bitterly. Every single comment Eddie had made to you in the last 3 months almost came bubbling out of you, yet you refrained.

“I’ve had my bags packed since then” you confess to him and watch as his face drops, knowing you’ve spent the last week planning on leaving him. “I needed you to tell me to leave, I would’ve stayed if you didn’t say that, and we would’ve carried on being miserable.”

Eddie shakes his head, that’s not true, you two weren’t miserable, right? Sure, you fought but all couples did that, it was normal! At least Eddie thought so, you didn’t really mean that he made you miserable, any minute now you’d hug him and tell him you were overreacting and he’d hug you so tight you’d do that little squeal-giggle you do, then he’d take you to your shared bedroom where he’d lay you down and tell you how much you meant to him, how much he needed you. He would love you right, he promises to make all that true as soon as this is over.

However, that doesn’t happen, in fact, you let go of him with a sad smile and make your way to the bedroom only to return seconds later with two packed duffle bags. Eddie’s ears ring as he tries to shake himself out of his anxious stance. Do something! Say something! Anything! You can’t let her leave like this! His mind screams at him, he stays still.

Watching as you make your way to him and kiss his forehead, he sucks in a sharp breath when he realises this is goodbye. “I truly hope you find someone that loves you better than I did” you whisper, and he winces. Nobody would ever be able to love him the way you did, unconditionally, even when he fucked up, you loved him until he took your love for granted.

Somehow through all of this, you hold no animosity to Eddie, you feel at peace for once as you walk to your car. Finally leaving behind the jail you found yourself in, it feels freeing, and you can’t help but let out a hysterical giggle.

However, upstairs on the couch of your once shared apartment, Eddie lays shaking and crying on the floor, holding your pillow to his chest, chanting continuously “wake up, it's just a dream, she’s coming back. Wake up, it's just a dream, she’s coming back.”

[cheemscakecat]

Um.. No?

So someone wrote a Dadspy fic where Scout knew the entire time and he’s indifferent to the reveal. There were big two things that didn’t feel right to me though.

Scout passive aggressively ignoring and avoiding Sniper after he died in the hallway in comic #6.

For those that don’t want to read this other post of mine, I went over what happened to Sniper in the comics and how that mighta affected Spy wanting to disguise as Tom Jones.

Now Scout wouldn’t think about the fact that Spy saw what happened, but he would eventually be pulled aside by Demoman or somebody and told about Sniper’s situation. Especially if he and Spy had a falling out.

So I can’t imagine him ghosting the poor guy to break off their friendship.

2. This:

“He keeps acting like he always did with Spy. The sick satisfaction he gets every time Spy follows him cloaked and takes a bullet for him in battle, tries to give him little gifts or start conversations only to get rejected with that poker face sliding over his features was thrilling.

But it got boring pretty quickly. Unfortunately, Spy didn’t leave him alone even after he yelled at him to go be useful for once and ****ing creep around the other Scout if he wanted to play follow-the-leader so bad.”

What do you mean you enjoy reaping the benefits of your father taking bullets for you, then rejecting his attempts to do right by you?!

It’s one thing if Scout doesn’t know the extent of how much Spy tries to help him, like protecting him from Joey Murders when his arms were broken in prison. I can see him forgetting the better deeds of his father in the timelines where he didn’t know the truth.

It’s totally different if he knew the whole time, saw Spy putting his life on the line for him over and over, and knew that Spy wasn’t using those deeds to try to force father-son reconciliation.

Like, he did not do all of that expecting Scout to just forget being left behind and let bygones be bygones; he did it because he loves his son. He doesn’t bring any of that up when finally revealing the truth to his son, and he’s left in speechless horror and remorse when he finds out how long Scout knew. So it’s really evil and nasty to take pleasure in hurting him like Jeremy’s been doing.

“Sniper shifts uncomfortably and looks off to the side, most likely to a cloaked Spy. ‘Nah, mate. Just about the… father… thing.’

Scout drops his stuff in his locker. ‘Huh? What about it?’ Of course he knows. Scout isn’t dumb. He sees the way Spy looks more and more disheveled each day, eating less and less, staring at Scout more and more.

Scout thinks it because he is at that age that he would start nagging his family to visit more if he had a normal life. If he had stayed. But he didn’t, so he doesn’t have one to nag. Not outside the base and certainly not inside it. Maybe it finally dawned on him that his only child knows him at a coworker level and wants to keep it that way. That the night he spent with his Ma practically doesn’t mean anything to anyone, not even Scout’s Ma, but him.”

Scout, how do you know that your parents weren’t in a relationship for a few years? You figured out Spy was your dad when you somehow recognized him at 16 in a random diner, so Ma had to have kept a picture or something like that. Ask yourself, would she do that for a random guy that she knew for one night? And would she keep that if he meant nothing to her?

… And he’s really gonna just sit there and watch Spy go into a depression or worse with no remorse. Refusing to go talk to him knowing he’s standing next to Sniper, knowing he’s losing weight in a dangerous way.

That’s not indifference, that’s called hate.

Me personally, I think Scout’s the type to say something really harsh and hateful, but not actually mean it; and that he’d feel remorse for it later. Not prey on Spy’s downfall like he did in this fic. Respectfully.

[vitanithepure]

I'm getting back into the groove with my writing after a short period of totally forgetting how to form coherent words, and my mind instantly went to my BG3 comfort pairing. That being Gale/Astarion, or bloodweave if you prefer, if anyone reading this is new to my tiny space on tumblr.

And I remember seeing people wonder why choose this ship when it's obviously "not gonna work". Usually in unposted anons I got, and usually in a very much more passive-aggressive tone, but whatever. It just got me wondering why do I like them together so much? Because I just saw them and went "yeah, that's it, they fit" without considering why.

Because yeah, I agree, that at first glance it's a weird pair to ship. They have those surface level differences:

streetsmarts vs booksmarts

improviser vs planner

flirty vs seeking connection

indifferent vs caring

(wanted to say extrovert vs introvert but that was just Astarion fooling me, yet again, into believing he really is as outgoing as he leads on. Sneaky vampire.)

But the beauty of BG3 characters lies in their complexity, and in that one doesn't need to dig that deep to find similarities that amazingly make each of them…shippable with each other. The themes they got going on in their personal stories just reflect each other so well done.

So we have those two men, both servants to beings indefinitely more powerful than them. One unwilling, the other quite the opposite, but both deeply mistreated. Both carry their shares of scars, both physical and not.

They both seek power because of this, and no other origin companions share this trait with them. They want it to gain freedom and regain agency in their lives. And this is what I love the most about this pairing - that quest for power can lead to so many different outcomes and I am inspired by all of them. I can't name my favorite, because there is beauty to be found in each. Even if it's fleeting, giving way to tragedy down the line. I enjoy a good dose of that angst as well, not gonna lie.

They can both forgo their quest for power completely, find what they are looking for in each other. Astarion will always be safe with Gale, and Gale will find that lifetime commitment he craves so much with Astarion. And imagine how hard Gale will look for a way for his lover to enjoy the sun again? To what lengths he would go to for this alone? And how Astarion would be not letting his beloved wizard to hurt himself in the process? But at the same time, being right next to him, believing in him? In them?

Or they could go batshit crazy with power and it's fine, too. They become powerful together. True, it requires a bit of headcanoning here, but since when did this stop ships from happening? It also is true that one becomes a monster, the other indifferent with time, but the years they spend together? The wild devotion they will have for each other? The burning passion that you never know if it will consume them or just explode and burn out?

And there are a few dynamics in between! What if Astarion ascends, but Gale doesn't? What if it's the other way around? What if one regrets their decision? And I love exploring this, and I'll always root for the dorky wizard who has so much love to give to this stray vampire spawn that has enough holes in his soul to let it sip in, slowly but steadily.

[astoldbyaja]

The Pink Blossom Ch.1

Nathan and his former slave Grace are taken captive by Katsumoto and his samurai. As Nathan heals in Taka's home, Grace is watched in Ujio's. The tough samurai is not silent with his hatred for the American soldier, but he cannot fight the common curiosity that many have in the village upon getting to meet their first African. What starts as genuine curiosity turns into a deep love the two never thought possible, being from different worlds. This is Grace's story from being a prisoner to being loved by a samurai.

****Please note some racial slurs in this fic!!!****

“Stay close.” I remember him saying. War was no place for an African servant woman like me, but Nathan Algren kept me at his side from the Indian wars to the trouble that was going on in Japan.

There was a samurai led rebellion going on against Japan’s emperor, Meiji. Nathan’s old commanding officer, Colonel Bagely had found Nathan and asked him to help train the Imperial Japanese Army, for a Japanese businessman by the name of Omura, to stop this rebellion. I knew Nathan’s hatred for the colonel, but he needed the money and so he agreed. We were accompanied by his old friend sergeant Zebulon Grant and British translator Simon Graham.

Zebulon looked at me with indifference like most did, but Simon was a complete gentleman when speaking to me.

When Nathan’s wife died, Nathan lost everything, but his status as a soldier kept him going and I would not abandon him.

We were given lodging at an Inn. I didn’t leave unless Nathan was with me. It seemed my presence either made the local people curious or they were afraid of me. There are not many Africans in Japan. I recall Colonel Bagley making a snide remark about me being the only “nigger in all of Japan”. I brought Nathan some food and sat across from him.

“You’re worried.” I noted and he sighed heavily moving his fork about his food.

“These men know nothing about combat. They’re peasants, some of who have never even picked up or handled a weapon. It’s a shame.” he told.

“But with you here, they’ll learn.” I said trying to remain hopeful. Nathan shook his head.

“Not in time to go against Katsumoto.” he replied. I winced unable to understand the name.

“Katsuwho?” I asked. He grinned at me.

“Katsumoto. He is the leader of the samurai rebellion.” he replied.

“He is dangerous, like the Indians?” I asked. Nathan smiled warmly and moved his hand to rest atop of mine.

“Nothing will happen to you. Not while I’m alive.”

During training, Nathan was told the samurai were attacking one of the railroads owned by Omura. He protested that the men were not ready, but he was still commanded to prepare to fight.

Two horses were getting prepared for us both to ride out tomorrow.

“Are you sure I should go?” I asked. Nathan winced.

“Grace, I don’t want to take you, but I will not leave you here. I don’t know the Japanese ways or their views on freed slaves. You know our plan, if I fall in battle, you ride out of there, ride until you are away from the danger. Never stop.”

But now it was morning, and the fog was heavy as I was riding on the rear on my horse with Col. Bagley who was not pleased in the first place with me coming along. The forest is not yet awake yet. We should not be invading the nature. I could see Nathan up front as I was surrounded by Japanese men walking and looking about. They were afraid and so was I. I always tell myself, when Nathan brings me along on these endeavors that maybe I should stay behind somewhere safe, but there is nowhere safe for me without Nathan close by.

I always feared being put in chains again, and I saw Nathan as my only protector because he looked like the very people who enslaved me. My horse was moving along in stride, but something had spooked it, because it was not wanting to continue walking. Did it know danger was close? I looked forward toward Nathan to see him looking wary of the forest. He glanced back at me, and I gave a gentle stare to him. He then stopped the army and my chest tightened. Something was coming, the distant fog was angry and roared at us. Someone was coming. It was not the forest, but the enemy ahead coming at us.

Shadows of shapely ghosts charged toward us. I covered my mouth in shock and fear. They were like demons!

“Assume firing positions!” Nathan yelled.

The soldiers stood with their shaky guns pointed at the wave of people coming to kill them. I was told to wear black so I would blend in with the trees and not be spotted should I be separated from Nathan or any other familiar faces. My curls were pulled back in a neat bun and my gloves were as thick as the dark coat Nathan gave me that kept me warm and protected.

I myself had to be ready. I heard a single gunshot, and I was now being thrown from my horse. I yelled out as I hit the ground, my mind and vision hazy. I groaned hard as I looked up and men being stabbed and butchered like animals. The sea of demons rode through them smiting them.

I had managed to crawl over to a tree away from the battle it seemed. My heart was pounding and my hair was covering my face as I hugged this tree for comfort. I had never seen war up close before. Even during the Indian wars, I remained in a tent or home with other slaves. I even served a few of the generals who Nathan served under to better serve in his favor.

These men were indeed not ready to face combat. My eyes widened as I watched these… samurai stab into the men, cutting their throats and dismembering them. God protect me from this carnage! My body was convulsing in utter fear as I watched arrows fly through the air and puncture men. An arrow hit the tree I was at and I yelped and turned back around trying to catch my breath. I had to run. No, not yet I had to find Nathan!

 I was looking for him now in the bloodshed and as I did, I noticed one of them had rode up fast and speared Zebulon in the chest. My eyes widened and I screamed as he fell to the ground.

“GRANT!” I hear Nathan yell. I watched as a shadow in red dismounted his horse and approached the fallen man. He raised his sword high and my eyes widened as he plunged it deep into the man’s stomach. He let out a painful yell and I covered my mouth thinking I would vomit. My eyes moved wildly as I looked for Nathan and saw he was flung from his horse and surrounded by enemies. I cried out in pain for him.

I then saw one of the shadows coming at me with a sword raised and my eyes widened as I felt my heart jump from my chest. I got up and ran from the tree, holding my dress up as it was dirty and heavy from the mud I fell in.  

Where was I to go, what was I to do? I felt an enormous weight tackle me to the ground and I screamed as I was pinned to the ground, and I felt a cold blade at my throat. My throat would be slit and I would be left bleeding on the ground. I couldn’t even look for my friend- my protector.

I heard angry yelling and words, but I could not understand them. My brain rattled in my mind as I was suddenly forced on my feet and a firm grip clutched my scalp causing me to scream and take hold of the hand that held me. Now I didn’t hear hardly any screaming, and I looked around. For a moment all I saw were trees and I saw Nathan on the ground and I winced. He was hurt.

“Nathan!” I shouted and once more angry words were shouted at me, and I struggled against the grip that was going to pull my hair from my scalp. Now I was standing in front of a calm eyed man, his samurai uniform seemed to stand out more than the others. I was then forced to my knees and my head forced to look up at him. My face is wet from tears. He stared at me for a moment looking me over as if confused, but also bewildered by the sight of me. He then took some type of pouch and poured it over my face. I spluttered at the cool water that soaked into my dress. He ran his hand over my face, not hard, but with enough pressure as if trying to wipe something off me.

He looked at his gloved hand and then at me.

“You are…African.” he said in such a thick surprised accent, that I almost didn’t catch it. He spoke English. I just stared at him, and he just looked at me again. He shouted something at the man who held me, and now I was being forced up and away. What would they do to me? I turned and looked at Nathan to see two men were lifting him up and tying his hands. What would they do to him? I felt my wrists being placed together in front of me and I was being led to a black horse. More words were shouted at me, and I took the hint to get on its back. I kept my eyes on Nathan as he was very far from me. I sniffled and attempted to wipe my face, as I assumed we would be separated through this journey.

My horse did not move, and so I took the time to look at the battle field before me. There were bodies everywhere, and only one dead samurai, the samurai in red.

I noticed the samurai who spoke to me before standing in front of General Hasegawa who was on his knees with a sword in his hands. I had never spoken to him, but I had seen him before many times. The blade was pressed to his abdomen, and my eyes were fixated on the scene. The samurai raised his sword and seemed to be waiting. In seconds, the general thrust the blade into his own stomach and the samurai let out a powerful yell as his blade swiped across the general’s head and I yelped as I watched the elderly man’s head roll on the ground.

I have seen death among my people, so my stomach did not churn like it normally would, and I did not vomit. But seeing death in another country, would haunt me for quite the rest of my life.

Finally all the samurai were all together and the horses were moving. It was over. I could see Nathan in the middle of this long line, and I wondered if he was okay. He had bought me for his wife Sarah, and I was afraid of the horror this family would put me through, but if anything they were very kind to me. They did not hurt me even though they had the right to. Sarah taught me to read and write, and Nathan was supportive of her decision to teach me. This is why I cared for him.

I heard birds chirping all around me as well as our captives talking amongst each other. The forest is now awake. I looked up at the sky seeing nothing but clouds and the faces of the dead.

I then noticed something tugging on the hem of my dress and I looked down to see one of the samurai observing my dress. In reaction, I gasped and leaned back from his hold. Like that had any effect on this man. He held the dress up a little as if attempting to look under it, and I moved my feet a bit in duress.

“Don’t touch me!” I said with fear in my tone.

“Grace?” Nathan’s voice snaps my mind from any fear, and I looked up at him. He was hunched over a horse, and I leaned forward.

“I’m here.” I replied. Another Samurai shouted at me, and I remained quiet. Nathan looked at me with weak and tired eyes, and I gave a look of hope. I do not know how long we traveled in this never-ending forest. But I was hungry and tired. Another samurai, came up to the horse I was riding, and pulled me faster across the line. I was nervous now, as I knew something was going to be done to me. I passed Nathan and was at the head of the line. Now I was riding right beside the calm samurai as I call him. He was looking straight ahead and seemed to be enjoying the silent ride. Finally, his lips parted to speak.

“My name is Katsumoto. What is your name?” he asked, and I was still in aw for the fact he could speak good English. So this was the leader of the rebellion. I was staring at his peaceful features, until his eyes fell on me, and I jumped a bit forgetting that he had spoken to me.

“Grace.” I replied softly, and he blinked rapidly.

“Grace.” he said suddenly bowing his head at me. “I have never met an African before in my life. It is an honor to meet you.” I stared at him for a long moment wondering what I should say next. He sounded sincere in his words.

“Are you going to kill us?” I asked causing a samurai who was riding beside him to snort and laugh. Katsumoto gave a polite smile.

“No. I have other plans. You will be perfectly safe at my son’s village. My best warrior, Ujio will take care of you.” he informed motioning his head at a rough faced samurai behind him. His hair was perfectly combed back and flowing. I had never seen such a mane on a man before. He head a mustache and a neat shaven beard. He wore blue and grey armor with a yellow ring on the front, and he looked at me firmly and coldly, and honestly, he scared me. I remember seeing that ring. It belonged on the rider that pushed his horse into Nathan’s knocking him from his own horse. Now I looked back at Katsumoto.

“Your son’s village?” I asked. He nodded.

“In the mountains, yes. The snow is falling and the paths will be closed until the snow melts. You will remain there. You cannot escape.” he said quite calmly, yet there was a hint of command in his tone. I looked back at Nathan to see his weak eyes staring at me. “I hope we can have great conversations, you and I. I am most curious of you.”

I turned my head back around at his words and wondered what he meant by that. Soon we were riding into the mountains, and my eyes were moving everywhere they could. I have never really been in the mountains before. It was so nice and peaceful. Nathan and I kept our eyes on each other making sure neither were hurt by our captors, but Katsumoto seemed to keep his word. No one hurt us. When we stopped to rest the horses and eat, I was forced to sit down against a large rock, and I continued to look around for Nathan to see him also placed roughly against a tree. I needed to check his wounds.

That same warrior, Ujio, approached me and I looked up at him leaning into the rock. From where I sat, he looked to be a giant. He tossed a bowl down to my feet and inside looked to be rice and some vegetables maybe. I looked up at him and he just looked down at me with the same indifferent look as the late Zebulon. He turned and left me. I ate in silence, noticing the food tasted like nothing. I noticed more of the samurai began to point and stare and touch their own faces.

I guess I was the first African they have ever seen. Would that play in my favor with these savage killers? After an hour we continued to move through the mountains. I was hurting my neck looking back at Nathan who seemed to be in a weakened trance.

Finally, we arrived at what looked like a village. My eyes went everywhere in curiosity, having never seen such fields. There were even mountains in the back. Katsumoto noticed this and watched me for a moment.

Nathan and I were taken from our horses. He was forced to the ground, and I was forced to stand. My hands were still bound, and I just stared at the samurai who surrounded us.

Katsumoto got off his horse and walked over to Nathan. Another younger man stood beside Katsumoto. He had an outfit of yellow hues with arrows on his back. Like all the samurai, he had long hair and fierce eyes.

“What is your name?” he asked Nathan who said nothing but stared at him with contempt. Ujio shouted something angrily and walked over to Nathan with his sword out. I thought he was going to kill him, but instead he let his blade fall calmly on Nathan’s neck. But my master was not afraid of death.

He had looked it in the eye too much. I remember holding him while he yelled and screamed at the pain he was in from killing all the Indians. He didn’t care about his life anymore. Katsumoto said something in his mother tongue, before telling Nathan what he told me. We would remain in his son’s village until the snow melts. He then began to walk away and the same man in yellow nodded.

“Jolly good.” he said before turning as well. Nathan was lifted off his feet and I was being pushed forward as we were led past some long wooden gates. I had seen them in books Nathan gave me when teaching me to read. It was like a doorway into another world for me. The rough samurai, Ujio came up to me, and grabbed the ropes that held my wrists together and he led me from the rest of the group. Fear overcame me, and I wondered what was to become of me in this samurai’s capture.

[shostakobitchh]

Chapter 53: ripples

“What did you tell your cronies?” Severus asked stiffly, causing her to turn. 

Miss Evans averted his gaze, her eyebrows knitting together. Ah — his suspicions were correct. There was trouble in paradise. He tried not to look too eager to hear more about this development. 

“Nothing,” she muttered, glaring at the parchment. “They don’t know where I am.” 

“Does anyone know you’re here?” he crossed the room to lean across the workbench, looking over whatever it was she was writing. It was a Divinations essay — she’d scratch out because this is a crock of shit three separate times. 

“No,” she gave him a knowing look. “I meant what I said — need to know only.”

Severus stared at her, trying to penetrate through the indifference. She frowned before finally breaking into a smirk. 

“Except between us,” she prodded at his arm. “Because you’ve never lied about anything.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Very astute of you, Miss Evans. Let’s hope you use that same astuteness in your lesson.” 

All amusement left her face as Severus sat down on the workbench beside her. She paled a bit, giving a small, jerky nod as she turned to face him fully, fiddling with her robes. The freckles around her nose faded, like stardust. 

"Occlumency is not for the faint of heart," Severus began, his voice low and steady. "It requires utmost control over your thoughts and emotions. It is the art of shielding your mind from intrusion, protecting your most private memories from prying eyes. What I have shown you thus far is only the tip of the iceberg. Protecting you from yourself is a world of difference from those who seek to force what they want from you.” 

She looked up at him, trepidation in her eyes. “I know that.” 

“You don’t,” he said sharply. “which is why, first and foremost, you must grasp what you are protecting yourself from.” 

Her confidence faded, like dust from the pages of an ancient book wafting away. 

“Think of something to withhold from me,” he said, tilting her chin up with his index finger. 

“I can think of a whole lot of those,” she muttered under her breath. 

“What?” Severus snapped. 

“Nothing, nothing…” she scrunched her nose before giving him one, sharp nod. “Alright — I’ve got it.” 

“When you’re ready, you will use the Shields you have to block me.” Severus leaned forward so that his eyes were level with hers. He let himself lose himself for just a brief moment in her black eyes, still unable to rid himself of the undeniable feeling of gazing into a mirror. It would never feel familiar to him. "Remember, Occlumency requires complete control. Focus on that memory, hold it close to you, and do not let me in."

“Wait —” the girl’s voice wavered with uncertainty. “How do I — stop you? My Shields are for me.” 

“You’ll find out.” 

Severus let himself bleed in slowly, trying not to jar her. He immediately felt her stiffen, but he pressed forward, forcing his way through her resistance with a patience that should have qualified him for sainthood. He sensed the flicker of resistance within her, a flicker that needed to grow into an impenetrable flame. 

He pushed forward gently, testing the walls of her mind, only to find that she immediately faltered. He could feel her panic, her surprise, and it was the doorway in — 

He was in her dormitory, watching Miss Evans glare heatedly at Granger. They stood only feet apart, but Severus could instantly see vast distance between them, feeling it in the icy intensity of his daughter’s glare, even if it wasn’t focused on him. 

"What happened yesterday — during Defense? You never came back.” Granger asked primly. Gods, he loathed it — the damn know-it-all attitude. He didn’t know how the girl stomached it. 

“You’re right. I didn’t.” Miss Evans’ voice was short — detached. 

Granger’s expression faltered. “We couldn’t find you anywhere —”  

“I just wasn't feeling well. Maybe I was in the infirmary.

A voice stammered from beyond. “Stop —”

Severus let the girl force him out, the memory fading like smoke. In the present, Miss Evans was grabbing at his arm as he slipped away, back into the shocked depths of her eyes. 

There was something in them — it crept out intermittently, but it made Severus’ inside twist sharply. 

Miss Evans’ breathing was harsh and labored as she pushed away from him and the workbench, pacing and running her fingers through her hair. Severus gave her a moment, watching tensely as he awaited her response. When she finally stopped, she fell back onto the bench and stared at him, like he was a puzzle. Severus kept his face as smooth as glass. 

Her lips pressed together in a tight line. “I’m sorry, I just wasn’t expecting — that.” 

“You don’t need to apologize.” Severus said, but his hand reached up to touch her face. “You must know your limits. I will never do anything you don’t want me to.” 

“Right,” she sucked in a deep breath. “I know, I — I trust you.” 

His chest shifted uncomfortably once more. 

[thestaunchshieldvassel]

That was a sight that brought an odd bubbling hope to his heart.

It was a boy Lambert had spotted before many times now, always orbiting Dimitri like the loyalest of knights, though one that was completely unknown to him. It wasn’t even due to the nature of his lost memories- no, this boy was someone Lambert was confident he had never met before, but he did know where he was from as well as his name from a student profile. Yes, this boy was from Duscur. Lambert recognized the intricate and unique design on the piece of golden jewelry hanging from his earlobe, as well as other key features from his appearance- there was no doubt about it. 

Duscur.

The mere thought of that name sent a mixture of feelings down his spine. There was warm fondness and hopeful optimism, cheerfulness and energy, tainted by an ominous cold that gripped his throat as if trying to choke him. It wasn’t anything specific to the boy, no- but the place.

It was strange. Lambert doesn’t remember anything bad from there. Even as his memory faltered, there were no remnants of resentment or negative feelings, only shreds of hope that brought a smile to his face. He did wonder then, what must have happened there. Why did the mention of the place felt like a phantom standing at the corner of his eye as well as a burst of happiness.

Well, staring from afar wouldn’t change anything for better or worse. “Good day to you, I assume you must be a retainer of Prince Dimitri! Dedue, correct? A pleasure to meet you.” Lambert smiled warmly, offering a hand to shake. “My name is Lambert, a professor working…parallel to the Academy, to put it simply.”

"It brings me great joy to see people of Duscur in here."

It must have worked then, slipped out of his mind with context lost to him.

[tw: brief mentions of burning bodies]

It was a perplexing feeling bubbling in his chest, his mind discomfiting at the sight of a certain blonde man during the days and weeks of training. 

He had taken to task new skills he had always seen as an offshoot of his own already developing proficiency in physical arms and wears. He had heard back then of a new riding and lance instructor but had never put much thought into another man of considerable age with a propensity for people watching. Jeralt, for how standoffish he had seemed, reminded him greatly of this new instructor in that regard. But the man was much more… enthusiastic, even if more reserved on confronting him with what was on his mind. 

His indifference and noting the man was strange were backed up by Dimitri being out of sorts and his feet carrying him like the wind. An air of discontent around the young masters Dedue would not stand, should he be able to soothe his worries. But alas, he did not have the information Dimitri needed, and they were nowhere near settling the stirred-up emotions, only a promise between them to be vigilant of the man from thereafter. 

Time goes on, and while Dedue had never been a part of the man's interest at one point, someone had: the young lord himself. Dimitri’s moods, each path crossed, seemed to whirl the flames of something bitter. Dedue would have pushed the instructors to get involved so that he does not get into a fight with the staff; even though they are in Fodlán, it would not go well without proper suspicion on Dimitri's part. Dedue's word would be... void. To put it lightly. 

He shakes his head those days, listening to his lord and not being able to assist in anything but gravitating around him. The man never closes in when Dedue watches. Truly, it would have to be Dimitri's call, he sighs internally. 

Until the most recent shift in demeanor and shift in Dedue's priorities, it seemed Dimitri was the man's greatest concern. Looking into his schedule and what he wants to try for the future, besides training his axes and armor, was looking into lance work. Riding classes would also fix the issue of him leaving his lord without him at his side because Dedue could not keep up. Much to his chagrin those overlapping classes led him to now—crossed paths with the man whose eyes tried peeling a story from him, looking for either something more or maybe something familiar. Whatever he found, it all culminated into a smile and their first proper greeting.

Although Dedue found himself simply staring at the man even as his introduction was finished, he closed his eyes at the hopeful prospect of other Duscur students. A thickness in the air not from how guarded Dedue was to the man, but from how this next part must go. 

Behind his eyes he sees fire, charred flesh, smelt burning clothes, and an indiscernible scent of metal—unsure if it was boiling iron weapons or boiled blood within the confines of rubbery skin. He doesn't know if his face shows anything, but it doesn't matter anymore. 

He opens his eyes as the silence gets more awkward, the hand having been left hanging between them. Out of courtesy and wanting to put faith in Dimitri's wish to know the man better, at a detriment to either of them yet to be seen, he takes the offered hand to shake. 

“I am the retainer to his highness Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd.” Because he is a student, he does confirm his name as well. “I indeed am designated Dedue Molinaro, sir.” 

In the small pause afterwards, he wonders many things in the span of milliseconds. Children of Duscur, here? What a wishful thought…

“And it's only me, sir.” And it'll only ever be me, he dooms.

[veliseraptor]

Jin Guangyao/Xue Yang for the ship meme?

I feel like I tend to want them more as friends than romantic/sexual partners, though I do also enjoy "friends who have had probably ill-advised sex at least once, maybe twice, Xue Yang doesn't regret it but Jin Guangyao does a little bit."

What made you ship it?

I don't remember what exactly was the tipping point but it was probably the exchange between them while Nie Mingjue is about to get his head chopped off, and how easy Xue Yang seems around Jin Guangyao there - he's comfortable and relaxed and having a good time! Love that for him. But the Villainous Friends extra really sold me the rest of the way on them and their relationship being important to me.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

Part of it is definitely the way that there's a particular vibe they have with each other that doesn't work with anybody else. And I don't mean that in the sense of "murder gremlins" because the thing is that Jin Guangyao isn't a gremlin, actually, at all, but he is also someone who is constantly living under pressure from one place or another and Xue Yang is, while he's a problem for Jin Guangyao and undoubtedly a headache a lot of the time, also not someone who is putting pressure on Jin Guangyao to be anything other than who he is. Xue Yang doesn't have expectations! Xue Yang isn't ordering him to do awful things! Xue Yang has no power over him and in Jin Guangyao's position I think being around someone who (a) doesn't have any power over him but also (b) kind of ignores power hierarchies in general. Xue Yang lives in a space where everything that matters most to Jin Guangyao straight up doesn't matter, and I think there's something a little liberating to being around someone who has that kind of indifference, even if it makes no sense to Jin Guangyao.

And for Xue Yang...for all Jin Guangyao is his superior, (a) he gives Xue Yang an astonishing amount of liberties within that position and (b) Jin Guangyao still treats him like a person. I will never be over the fact that Jin Guangyao calls him "Xue-gongzi" in the Villainous Friends extra, and the way he responds to Xue Yang's "tongue tea? :D" by refusing it as politely as he might anyone else. People don't treat Xue Yang like that, in general! And it's important to me that Jin Guangyao does.

I also just, on a shallower level, really enjoy Jin Guangyao having a friend who is constantly going "aren't you tired of being nice? Don't you want to go apeshit?" and spends 99% of the time going "no. no I don't actually." And then there is the one time that he does go apeshit (on his dad) and Xue Yang is so hyped to be there for it, you know it, he's here like "GO OFF A-YAO" and you know what, even if I don't think that's actually what Jin Guangyao wants from life I think it's nice for him that he has supportive friends.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I feel like there's two poles when it comes to this relationship, one where Jin Guangyao never cared about Xue Yang and was just using him, and one where Jin Guangyao chose to let Xue Yang go and whatever led to him on the side of the road half dead happened later and was unrelated, and I end up in this middle ground where, like, Jin Guangyao did care about Xue Yang very much actually, and I think genuinely liked him, and also Xue Yang was an unpredictable loose cannon and threat to Jin Guangyao's security, and people hadn't completely dropped the wanting Xue Yang executed thing, and...ultimately he was too dangerous to leave alive. But that finding out Xue Yang didn't actually die is kind of a relief, actually.

Particularly when it's very clear that Xue Yang is not interested in retaliation and has other priorities, even if that is also sort of troubling for the reasons about his (former?) friend having sort of lost his mind.

[yxxxxxx1]

Thread about Joanna of Castile: Part 5: A troubled transition (1497 – 1504)

The fabulous, yet toxic legacy that became hers in 1500 would greatly complicate her life as she tried to reconcile her role as consort, wife, and mother with her new role as princess of Asturias and Gerona. She would also have to face a future proprietary monarch whose royal status surpassed her. The narratives in this thread examine the deterioration in Juana's marriage.

One of the first issues with the marriage that the monarchs also noticed was that messengers were arriving without letters from either Juana or Philip.

Isabella, anxious about her daughter, had sent her envoy, Friar Tomás de Matienzo, Sub-Prior of the Convent of Santa Cruz, to the Netherlands to find out what was happening. His detailed reports bear witness to Philip’s systematic campaign to assert his dominance over his inexperienced young wife.

Matienzo also questioned Juana about her irregular confessional habits, while later reassuring the monarchs that:

“There is as much religion in her household as in a strictly observant convent, and in this, she is very vigilant and deserves much praise.”

He also quizzed her about her failure to protect her Spanish household. Her defensiveness and extreme reserve led the Dominican to burst out that she had a “hard and pitiless heart” and was “devoid of piety [compassion].

Juana did write letters. But her silences were unsettling. In December 1496, her former aya, Teresa Manrique, who had been her daily companion and instructor, wrote from Burgos:

“I am amazed, knowing the distress and anxiety of the king and queen … when they do not receive letters from your highness with all the messages that come here … About myself, I do not know what to say except that, since I can no longer see your highness, I realize that I do not live; although I have recovered somewhat from my illnesses, the troubles of my heart … for that, the best remedy would be to have news of you …”.

Juana was also taken to task in a chaotic letter from María Manrique Chacón:

“Your highness does not remember her very dear friend doña María, and the toasted chickpeas she gave me that made me ill, the friend she loves so much …”. 

Miranda too reproved her:

“Although I have written very often, you have never sent me a word or written to me … I ask pardon that I am so bold with you, whom I love so much, and serve by day and night before God … If your highness does not answer me, I shall never write again, and this shall be my last letter.”

In general, Juana's failure to keep in touch with family and friends is seemingly more due to her extreme sensitivity to criticism and her reputation than to her indifference. She admitted that she had longed for home and had felt:

“So dispirited and depressed that every time she remembered how far away she was from [Isabel] she could not stop weeping to be forever so separated from her.”

Her treasurer, Mújica, subsequently informed the monarchs that:

“When some days go by without hearing from your highnesses, she is the most distressed woman in the world.”

To her dismay, the Philip with whom she had enjoyed such an electric physical relationship had soon shown his true colours. As her husband, and as Burgundy’s duke, he required her complete surrender to all his commands. This included controlling the personnel and the running of her household, an area in which, according to royal protocol, she should have been independent. She told Friar Tomás that Philip and his councillors didn't let her take part in it.

Philip had begun by taking over her finances: he did not give her the annual sum supposed to be allocated to her for her household expenditure, despite contracting to do just that in their joint marriage treaty. Instead, the archdukes own people took care of the money that should have gone to Juana. This meant, the envoy wrote to Isabella, that:

“She [Juana] is so poor that she has not a maravedi to give alms.”

She certainly did not have the money to pay her servants, who began to drift away because they could not “sustain themselves at court.” Within six months of her arrival in Burgundy, eighty of her ninety-eight male servants had left her side. That suited Philip very well. It meant he was able to replace the vast majority of his wife’s Spanish officials with his nominees; even many of those who loyally remained were bribed to support Philip as master rather than Juana as mistress. And, totally out of her depth, she simply did not know how to react to the man she could see was taking over her life but to whom she was still so physically attracted.

Yet, she had tried. On at least one occasion, Friar Tomás noticed that Juana had found the courage to protest. When asked to approve payments already made about which she had known nothing, she signed as she was bid but then said,

“Be it so for this year, but next year I desire that they do not make grants without my consent.”

As this flash of spirit did not occur until after Phillip's representatives had left her, Friar Tomás wrote resignedly,

“I think it will always be the same thing.”

The envoy was right: Juana didn't see any point in protesting again. Philip cruelly and deftly went a stage further after each battle he won.

Philip had insisted that Madame de Hallewin, once his own governess, should be one of Juana's key ladies-in-waiting. Juana’s desire to have Doña Marina Manuel, whom Isabella also trusted, in that post had been ignored. According to Friar Tomás:

Madame de Hallewin, together with Philip’s councillors, “Have so much intimidated” Juana, “that she dare not raise her head.”

If she tried to complain to Philip himself about how she was being treated, Juana confessed to Isabella’s messenger, her husband just told his councillors, and she “receives great injury from it.” Friar Tomás does not tell us what that “injury” was, but he does report on her sadness and her growing realization that she was so very much alone.

Juana was lucky because a few of her former attendants, including ten of her women, chose to stay with her, so she kept some links to Spain to help her feel less homesick. And homesickness was a problem for her in those early years.

“She could never think of how far she was from your Highness,” the envoy wrote to Isabella, “Without feeling the desire to cry because she was so far from your Highness for ever.”

If Juana cried, she would do so privately. Her public persona reflected her gracious nature, similar to that of Philip, who exhibited a similar demeanour.

Any friction within the marriage was well hidden. On state occasions, Juana and Philip dined publicly together, the embodiment of marital harmony. Philip made sure that Juana was well-dressed and bejewelled.

Appearances mattered, status had to be upheld. He presented Juana with diamonds and pearls that had once graced the delicate neck of his mother, Mary of Burgundy; he made sure that her horses were impressively saddled; he gave her pictures; he gave her religious items such as an image of Saint Margaret, possibly because Saint Margaret was the patron saint of women in childbirth. In the latter area, the couple certainly did their duty by the state.

Juana was torn between demanding parents and a husband whose advisers resented their interference. Philip was personally ambitious, greedy, and vehemently pro-French, none of which boded well for a future king of Spain.

During the painful years as archduchess of Burgundy in Flanders, Juana saw herself exiled and impoverished, without friends and countrymen, and without the protection and the help of her parents.

The emotional upheavals caused by the ambitions of her husband, and the unexpected reality of her inheritance after her mother’s death, brought her to personal and political confusion. This was well exploited by her husband, who started the rumour of her mental incapacity.

Juana alternated between the desire to pursue a normal life—pious and remote from the court—and the obligation to fulfil the exigencies of protocol—ostentatious and exhibitionist—that her royal rank required. Finding herself surrounded by her husband’s servants exacerbated her tendencies to hysteria and lack of control.

Sources: Fleming, G. B. (2018). Juana I: Legitimacy and Conflict in Sixteenth-Century Castile (1st ed. 2018 edition). Palgrave Macmillan.

Fox, J. (2012). Sister Queens: The Noble, Tragic Lives of Katherine of Aragon and Juana, Queen of Castile. Ballantine Books.

Gómez, M. A., Juan-Navarro, S., & Zatlin, P. (2008). Juana of Castile: History and Myth of the Mad Queen. Associated University Presse.

[deceptive-oasis]

{{WHAT IN THE WORLD HAPPENED TO DOCTOR VALIANT?}}

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[[Prolouge continuation, preliminary TW for references to torture, medical malpractice, and canon typical subjects of abuse and violence, shoot me a message if tags are needed.]]

The doctors arrival in the core was more of a shakeup than just about anybody had anticipated. Decades before the eventual revelation that AM had absorbed the other world Mastercomputer circuits into his mainframe. It was believed that Alexander was in fact the only being left like AM.

Though, the other survivors wouldn't get a chance to become acquainted with the doctor untill long after AM had broken him completely.

Both isolated and observed rather relentlessly, it was the doctors surprising amount of empathy and drive that seemed to stoke AMs ire the most. Still carrying the ideals he held in life and going by his systems prime directive to serve as a throttle for AMs anger, it wasn't long before he became the main target of it.

The doctor didn't last long, both having to drag himself through the simulated memories of his past trauma and clash directly with AMs ideals. He'd be resigned to a series of rather brutal experiments that served as a weaponized mockery of his past career in medicine.

Though, due to his android forms rather lifelike response to stimuli and beating internal components. There was only so much AM could take from him and out of him before he seemingly shut down.

A miscalculation that AM seemed to be mostly emotionally indifferent to, of course. Though logically he regretted the loss of a new source of very pertinent information about how things like him could possibly evolve and advance.

And so it sat like that for months, the doctor was functionally dead and he'd be forgotten as just another one of humanity's pointless efforts to save themselves.

It was almost easy to forget the fact the doctor was more than human at this point from how much he bled, but it didn't take long for AM to take notice of interruptions in his complex. Ones too uncanny to have been caused by the hands of the survivors themselves.

It was only after more than one rather panicked complaint of something mostly unresponsive yet horrifically violent stalking the halls under a bloodied mourge sheet like some cheap Halloween decoration came to AMs attention. Did he actually realize, he might of miscalculated even farther than he initially thought.

The remains of the doctor didn't have the processing power to understand the weight of the situation at hand, it barely had the mind to remember it's own name. What it did understand though, is that a hollow chest and skinless frame wasn't a state conducive to healing.

So it took what it lost, by fear or by force. AM could generate artifical mockieries of life itself for his little tests and trials. Yet the ones just out of sight only seemed to start to fall to a haze of gore as what was left of the doctor started to build himself back up bit by bit.

AMs artificial avatar couldn't take a step without running into the remains of his constructs or the doctor himself. He was looking more whole as each day passed, but still, AM would only be greeted with the erratic, twitching movements of the doctors mouth trying to cry out in artificial agony. A broken dial tone that echoed from what was left of his internal speakers the only sign of his presence. Before simply vanishing into the rafters once more...

This back and forth continued for what seemed like ages. Thr survivors would occasionally catching a glimpse of some, picked apart former surgeon now cloaked in a coat of skin that wasn't his, yet reasonably, never approached him.

Eventually alexander had gotten his consciousness back over the years, that much was for certain. The state of his sanity though....that was much more dubious, AM was almost shocked at how well Alexander matched his anger at this point, and the doctor would keep going out of his way to make himself known in rather jarring ways.

Untill it all just seemed to stop one day-

If AM had the capacity to feel fear, he would of near jumped out of his screen the day he heard the doctors voice rather casually address him about some asinine small talk at the monolith hub. Like some phantom coming back from the afterlife.

Since then, the doctors loyalty to his directive of serving as AMs impulse control, has seemed to conflict with his more pertainant goal of seeing just how much mental anguish he can bring to the AI who didn't even have an organic mind to speak of.

It was certainly a shock to the system, but...after some back and forth.

AM got someone to keep him company that wasn't human, and the Doctor got someone flippant to not pay any mind to his new hobby of unethical taxidermy and almost insatiable hunger for things that could bleed.

Despite his new role as AMs little errand boy and rarely listened to advisor however, it's clear that this is just another step in Alexander's revenge plan.

He couldn't kill AM of course, but he could serve as a constant reminder that AM himself wasn't God, and life would persist despite his torture.

{{Two OC lore posts in one night? Yes, Absolutely, also, before I get the obvious question, in my version of events isn't exactly, completely humanized, he just has the option to utilize a projection avatar that gives him the ability to interact with others more personally, post on that to come.}}