#the compulsion to tell stories is how and why i will never know peace

[trashquisitor-shirozora]

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

Aww, thank you for dropping this off in my askbox! Also oh god, I have so many favorite fics that I wrote, how will I ever choose just five? Anyway, these are arguably my favorite five fics that I wrote.

We Are Pilots (Tron Legacy, Sam/Tron, 90k words) changed my life. I answered a Tron Kink Meme fill with the kind of insane fervor that I later felt when writing another fic on this short list, and the response was phenomenal and overwhelming. This fic was the confidence booster of a lifetime and made me feel that actually, I am capable of writing stories on an epic scale. This fic went through several full rewrites and the final one is my favorite because this was where I really learned to let a story breathe and to make the environment as immersive as possible.

Wishing Well (Captain America: The First Avenger, 10k words) was a capkinkmeme fill (I was really big on LJ anon kink memes and I miss those so much for the unhinged communal vibes) and I love this short tragic tale of all the love that couldn't be. If I need something sad and cathartic, I read this fic. I need to feel the tragedy. I committed so hard to the bit that I deleted a fourth chapter set during Iron Man 2 and replaced it with a ficmix playlist.

born in a thunderstorm (Star Trek AOS/Guardians of the Galaxy/Thor Ragnarok/Captain Mavel, Kirk/McCoy, 68k) is the most unhinged thing I thought up since I was a middle schooler daydreaming a crossover of a bunch of Saturday morning cartoons and interestingly dubbed anime, and since I was a high schooler who went all out on a Kingdom Hearts fic by printing the screenplays for several Disney movies so that I can mimic the actual game as closely as possible. To think that this is the STXI fic I ended up writing after years of wanting to and never doing so out of fear I'd fuck up and get gatekept out of Star Trek.

Sweather Weather (Star Wars, Din/Luke, 22k) won the fight with Gravity Well because fall is here and the cozy vibes are strong in this one. Years back, I tried to write a cozy vibes fic and flamed out because I was a fool and didn't stick to the "slice of life" mentality. Anyway, this is my slice of life/cozy vibes fic and I adore it.

The Storm (Star Wars, Din/Luke, 45k) is the story I wrote in a fever dream, fueled by the song "Dangerous Dreams" by Lebrock, and my life has not been the same since then. This story is still so vivid to me. I still think about the claustrophic setting, the old stone temple on a forgotten world ravaged by weeks-long thunderstorms, and how that forged a curiosity and connection between two people whose cultures and ways of life were destroyed by the Empire yet still survived. I still think about this fic the way I think about stories that just seared themselves into my brain and won't go away (like the other fics on this list, Peter Jackson's LOTR trilogy, and Andor). It's all fucking insane. How the fuck did I write that?

Anyway, appreciate getting this ask! Now back to writing the next chapter of the 4th story of the series spun out of The Storm.

[brain-rot-central]

ok so has anyone made a list of things that Astarion said that had a different meaning than first thought?

For example, if you tell Astarion when you first meet that you’re Baldurian as well, he says they must not be in the same social circle. With the way he talks and dresses it seems like he’s implying you’re lower class, but later it becomes clear you’re not those petty criminals or brothel goers that he targets. (And there’s the separate “of course it’ll turn me into a monster” line that becomes obvious later.)

He reveals he fears breaking his nail to the dryad, and it seems shallow but we learn he’s traumatized by digging himself out of his coffin, and the year he endured being trapped inside a coffin and desperately scratching and breaking his nails off as punishment, which is also why he refuses to dig anyone out like Nere.

Also, he mentioned he targeted brothel visitors, and at first it sounds like he just waited outside those establishments for victims, but then if you visit the drow twins he mentions he never thought he’d be on the paying end, plus if you choose one of the twins then Astarion says you have a type for elven prostitutes. And if you really think about it, considering how Petras’ lines are similar to Astarion’s, it wouldn’t be weird to imagine Cazador forcing them to work at a brothel for a few years as training…

Some of Astarion’s lines have a lot to unpack

Many things Astarion says are doublespeak. It's a common coping mechanism used by trauma survivors to "make peace," in a way with what they went through. It's not until you've played through his whole story that you understand that, and honestly it breaks my heart. He has a lot of self-depreciating language. Little quips here and there where you realize he's not only commenting on the current situation but himself, as well.

The monster line in the beginning gets me the most, because he follows it up with, "What did I expect?" For the first time in 200 years, he's able to stand in the sun without burning. He's grappling with that entire realization while also readjusting to there being light and color in the world, and probably was looking at the whole Nautiloid experience as something slightly positive... only to learn that no, this is not something positive. In fact, it's horrendous, because if it's not rectified, he'll become a grotesque monster, worse than he already is. And idk, that guts me. He has this small glimmer of hope for the first time in two centuries, all to realize that it's a giant farce.

But, Astarion is also stubborn, so he holds onto this small glimmer of hope to see if there's a way he can work the tadpole to his advantage. So that he can continue to walk in the sun. Once he realizes that Cazador's compulsion has been interrupted due to the tadpole, he doubles down on wanting to keep the tadpole and control it.

Astarion's story is such a beautiful portrayal of what being in survival mode feels and is like. You're so entirely desperate to make it out of your current situation that you would quite literally give anything and everything to obtain it, even if it means burning the entire world down around you.

The elven prostitute line made me laugh when I first heard it; I knew he was referring to himself and trying to make some light humor about his past, but it's also heartbreaking to realize he sees himself as one. He hasn't yet taken the grace with himself to distinguish between being forced into that line of work vs who he actually is. The lines are still blurred.

I can't think about the intricacies of his background/personality too long, because it all feels way too familiar to me. To know even a smidge of the despair he probably felt for years and the constant mental and physical struggle he endured (there's even disordered eating/food insecurity in his back story too and no one really talks much about it; Cazador purposely kept all the spawn near-starving as a form of control).

Our boy was severely abused and neglected and I really just want to give him a fucking hug.

[sowritten]

𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐍

cursing, violence, all that good shit. feel free to adjust as you please!

you never know what horrible fate your bad luck has saved you from

thank you for taking the job on such short notice.

you are getting the new and improved me.

you put peace out in the world, you get peace back.

you don't have bad luck.

it's good luck. it's all in how you frame it.

you picked me second?

you have the strangest requests.

hey, this is nice!

it's like I got a compulsion or something.

I have to take it if I see it.

a goldfish biscuit? I mean, I don't understand it.

why didn't you tell me to bring that gun?

you're bleeding, mate.

oh shit, who the fuck did I kill?

I don't bleed.

what the fuck is wrong with you?

they're adaptable, like me.

no one likes lemons.

what's the catch? there's always a catch.

oh well, look at this! sleeping beauty!

technically, we're outside contractors.

you ever watch thomas the tank engine?

I always bring my stickers with me, you know that.

I wanna fucking strangle you right now.

why do you always bring swords?

that wasn't our fault.

you sound nervous.

you're overthinking it.

you're under-thinking it.

my job is to keep you safe.

I plan on completing my job.

the case, go get me the fucking case.

he doesn't need a reason to kill people like you; he needs a reason not to.

that's fucking confusing.

you came here to kill me.

you're going to want to hear the whole story, or you'll be very, very sorry.

three words describe our situation right now; do you know what they are?

family's more important than money, right?

let me put this bluntly: there's this soulless psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet shoved right inside our fucking ass cheeks.

if you mention that one more time I'm going to shoot you in the fucking face.

he asked for pros who wouldn't fuck up.

what do you want?

I'm not in someone else's story, you're all in mine.

deny it all you want, but you work for someone who works for someone else, et cetera et cetera.

I don't know what you think I can do for you.

you're going to kill him for me.

you look so tense.

that sounds dark as shit.

nut up or shut up, bro.

right, so: slight change of plans.

you stabbed me?!

I came here for revenge.

can we just take a time-out here?

I will ruin your life the way you ruined mine.

you are fuckin' excused.

it sounds so easy when you say it.

I'm really good with faces.

we have to have a hard discussion about the caliber of people we're surrounding ourselves with.

why are we whispering?

this rude enough for you, you fucking prick?

shove that hat up your asshole, you hear me?

there's a gun underneath this table pointed right at you.

I' can't really hear what you're saying.

I'm just fucking with you, mate.

who the fuck are you?

you look like every white homeless man I've ever seen.

you shot me. you shot me twice.

I shoot a lot of people.

you also have a shootable face.

I've forgiven, I've moved on.

I've always been lucky.

every day is a fucking headache with you, innit?

what's your plan here?

I'd like to accept your offer.

simple is better.

I ain't got the time or the patience, let alone the interest.

are you following me?

eat a bag of dicks!

I'm not a diesel, you're a diesel.

jesus christ, you had a bit of a bosh.

would you describe me as someone who lives in perpetual anxiety?

wanna make an easy two hundred bucks?

is this like, a sex thing?

all right, game's up.

the innocent young girl act really doesn't get you very far if you're holding a gun.

I wanted to handle it myself.

you can't control what fate has in store for us.

we're not finished.

this is a complete waste of my time.

unlike you, I'm a professional.

get the fuck off my back, will ya?

we need to deal with that twat right fucking now.

be careful, something else is going on here.

I'm never wrong.

you shoot first, come up with the answers later.

you be careful.

we need boundaries.

I knew my luck would rub off on you.

if the gun doesn't kill him, the case will.

I brought you here to fail.

it's a stupid plan.

it's a brilliant plan.

whatever deal was made, it wasn't done with the normal channels.

there's something else going on here.

did you just say whack?

you're really proud of yourself, aren't you?

you sure you don't want to talk this out?

for what it's worth, you seem like a right fucking asshole and I'm glad you're going to fucking die with me.

why did you even bother trying?

I don't think they were in the market for fucking dildos and pantyhose.

I'll do what you want.

you don't know anything about life or how hard it is.

I haven't seen anything like that, I think I'd remember.

I still need a fall guy.

you got a better idea, do you?

I'm finding it very hard to follow this story.

I'm sorry, I get captivated by white girl tears.

I'm really good at reading people and something tells me that you are just not fucking right.

am I dreaming?

I don't know how to shoot a gun.

you are really good, you sure you didn't study?

how do you do that? it's really unbelievable!

I'm glad you enjoyed the performance.

take that, punk!

you bitch!

you gotta be better prepared!

I'm mansplaining again.

you don't seem like a religious person.

you want me to hold your hand?

are you lying on the ground in the fetal position?

how do you always know what I'm doing?

get off your fucking lazy ass and come here and finish the job yourself.

I want to look into your eyes when I kill you.

I'm so happy to see you.

please help me!

I'm sorry darling, I don't know who the fuck you are.

a pretty girl makes a good hostage.

keep your fucking knickers on.

there's been a diesel causing all sorts of fucking havoc.

it was you the whole fucking time!

what the fuck are you doing?

he said he was going to kill you and blame everything on you.

no one's going to hurt you.

we've got to go, right now!

I don't want to be alone, please!

it's not your fault.

you've got your whole life ahead of you.

make sure you do something that brings you peace.

you're not going to let me get hurt? be honest.

you're creeping me out.

I have survived much more and much worse than you.

I'll fucking kill him myself!

her intentions with you were not honorable.

a blind man could see you were the one in the dark.

I did not need to do anything; fate will do what it wills.

fate for me is just another word for bad luck.

I returned home and found nothing except ash and blood.

he had taken everything from me.

I went into hiding and I looked for a way to strike him out without endangering what I had left.

I did not think fate would ever give me the chance to make things right.

everything that's ever happened to you has lead you here.

that's a shit deal.

am I in hell?

where the fuck is my brother?

I'll shoot you in the fucking throat next time!

I'm fast to kick your ass, I swear to god!

we prepare together or we die alone.

if fate wills, I will get my revenge.

I'll get is the fuck out of here.

what are you going to do?

I'm going to buy us some time.

I came to see you and to make you finally see me.

I built myself up from the nothing you gave me.

I was the one who deserved your attention. your love.

you have never been part of my plan.

I got a bad feeling about this.

why does it always gotta be us to do this shit?

why do you do what you do?

nothing in life is an accident.

I will always come for you.

if you do not control your fate, it will control you.

why are you here?

I do not know why you are here, but move out of my way.

I'm sorry I shot you twice.

you are not ruled by strength, you are ruled by fear.

just let it go, bro!

what is with this fucked-up family?

you need some suggested reading, if I may.

was that karma?

did you come to rescue me?

did you need rescuing?

what's happening to your face? are you crying?

do you think maybe there was a little head trauma?

I think you were right about one thing.

maybe you've learned something after all.

take a fucking bow!

[mamamittens]

Been thinking about that hitman au with Thatch, Izou, and Nikia (god I need a damn ship name lmao)

Wondering how far the yandere traits should go. I've already stated I won't get super dark with it, but that's still a lot of room for dubious behavior. Stalking and the like before he even decides he won't murder her.

I'll need to plan it out so there's a bit of meat to the story with the tension of Thatch struggling to decide how to kill her before realizing he'd rather she live in his arms.

Thought it would be interesting if his whole compulsion to murder with food is based on a sort of warped romantic idea of people enjoying his food so much they'd be willing to die. Usually not even realizing anything is wrong until it's too late and they've already passed away. Not likely a fan of the brutal, allergic reactions and visceral agony of more deadly poisons. Prefers peaceful, smiling deaths but isn't afraid to be vicious if he hates the target.

Killing this way brings a wave of satisfaction he rarely finds elsewhere, which is why he's so willing to drag out the 'courting' stage of his kills. Dedicating many weeks to crafting the perfect final dinner.

Perhaps he breaks into her apartment to see what her usual fare is and is a bit... Thrown that it's not very healthy. Not total garbage necessarily. No tv dinners, but basic sandwich stuff, snacks, ramen, soda, and cans of spaghetios.

The spaghetios wound him more than the rest somehow.

Tells him nothing of her actual preferences cause he gets how hard it is to cook whole meals regularly when you didn't already. He remembers college! But he justifies little test run meals as building up to the best dinner she'll ever have the pleasure of eating.

Takes some careful watching to discover where her real preferences lie, she's more polite than most of his usual victims and won't insult his food to his face. It gets easier when he just asks her straight up what she likes and he feels lightheaded at how giddy he is. It's going to be so sweet! She'll look so lovely after all the work he puts into the meals!

Naturally, all this watching means he starts to identify those minute expressions that initially led him to believe she was at best, very apathetic about everything(an even better challenge!) and at worst incredibly bitchy(more satisfying to finish the job!). He starts to notice her little, polite smile as it deepens the more fond she gets of him. The startled looks in her tense lips and widened eyes. Embarrassed glances away with wobbly smiles. It feels like he's peeling away the layers of a stranger to find an endearing, lovely (lonely) woman he wants to know more about.

There's challenges but as time goes on, he finds himself forgetting about murdering her. There's no way he's already satisfied with the glimpses of her life en-meshing with his! His only choice is to continue! Until he realizes how badly he wants to keep her alive and with him.

Then he pulls Izou in as a check in and testing the waters. They share so much with each other and he knows Izou would like the company if nothing else. Satisfied beyond words when Izou confirms the instinctive attraction.

Of course, between the two of them, success was only a matter of time.

Shame after all that she gets spooked and runs to clear her head.

There's nothing to clear up! They're hired hitmen with murderous compulsions but she's very safe in their arms! They swear!

Perhaps a nice, long vacation together will help break up the ice their unexpected reveal created.

Thatch is devastated when she's hesitant about his food and switches to stuff easier to forcefeed if it goes on too long. He won't let her starve, no matter what her fears are. She'll learn to trust him again. And Izou hates how nervous she looks at his tender care. Time intimately tending to her is the best solution he has. Eventually, she can't be scared anymore.

She'll learn they'd never hurt her. Just as they'd never let her go.

[kuzcosources]

Bullet Train (2022) Sentence Starters

pronouns and context can be changed as you see fit. swearing, blood, violence, etc below.

You never know what horrible fate your bad luck has saved you from.

You are getting the new and improved me.

You put peace out in the world, you get peace back.

Ladybugs are supposed to be lucky. Ha, ha.

My bad luck is biblical.

I’m not even trying to kill people and someone dies.

I mean, talk about a candidate for self-improvement.

_____ says every conflict is an opportunity for a peaceful… what was it?

Bloody fuckin’ hell. Do you mind?

What is he, fucking blind or something?

Oh, come on, nicking…? No.

You don’t have to nick the biscuits, man.

Why’d I do that? It's like I've got a compulsion or something. I have to take it if I see it.

Need to talk to someone. Serious.

Briefcases have owners. Owners are not simple.

You’re bleeding, mate.

Oh, shit, man. Oh, fuck.

Who the fuck did I kill?

Get a wet one on it or something.

Yeah. I don’t bleed. Oh, in that case, just leave your jacket open, let everyone have a good old look.

Holy shitbox.

What’s the catch? There is no catch.

There's always a catch.

We could deliver you back to your pops in a box.

You ever watch Thomas the tank engine?

Everything I learned about people I learned from Thomas.

Fuck me!

Yeah, you seem like a Percy. Young. Sweet. Not all there.

Your daddy hired us to get you out of the trouble you got yourself into, didn’t you, naughty boy?

_____, you’re startin’ to get on my tits.

The fuck is wrong with you, man?

Why do you always bring swords?!

That's really mean.

Our job is to keep you safe and to recover the briefcase with the ransom money inside.

Maybe my luck is starting to turn.

You’re going to want to hear the whole story, or you’ll be very… Very sorry.

Three words describe our situation right now.

Why do I even bother forwarding you the briefings?

So let me put this bluntly: there’s this soulless psychotic leader with the largest criminal organization on the planet shoved right inside our fucking ass cheeks.

Three words, _____: we are fucked.

People think that I’m just some young girl.

But I’m not in someone else’s story. You're all in mine.

You still got that vest on ya?

Oh, no, vests give you a false sense of security.

Yeah, it also stops you from getting shot in the chest, but I guess you missed that episode of Thomas, did ya?

Nut up or shut up, bruv.

You ruined my life.

I don't even know you!

Let this be a lesson in the toxicity of anger.

The fuck is a Momonga?

I don’t know, why don’t you tell him about the story about how Gordon met Percy and how Percy’s now bleeding from his fucking eye sockets!

I'm really good with faces.

We have to have a hard discussion about the caliber of people we are surrounding ourselves with.

I didn’t realize I was gettin’ a babysitter to come cut my bollocks.

This rude enough for ya, ya fucking prick?

Fuck this job.

I’m just fuckin’ with you, mate.

You look like every white homeless man I’ve ever seen.

Real quick, um, every day is a fucking headache with you, innit?

It’s like Thomas the Tank Engine always says; “Simple is better.”

Eat a bag of dicks, lady.

Would you describe me as someone who lives in perpetual anxiety?

Is this like a...sex thing?

I-I do love an accent.

The innocent young girl act doesn’t really get you very far if you’re holding a loaded gun.

Oh, man, when this train’s a-rockin’, don’t come a-knockin’, right?

Are you hiding in a bathroom?

Yeah. Have you tried these smart toilets? They're... a pleasure to the senses.

Come here, you-you dirty fucking scum!

You know what? Do you have, um, anything sparkling?

How much for the bottle of water, love?

You fucking bastard! Fucker!

Come here, you little fuck!

For what it’s worth, you seem like a right fucking asshole and I’m glad you’re gonna fucking die with me.

I was trying to sell it. I was selling it.

Well, I don’t think they were in the market for fucking dildos and pantyhose, were they?

Sorry. Pardon me, I don’t mean to interrupt what’s, uh, going on here, but, uh, you wouldn’t happen to have seen a tiny white prick with a pair of glasses come through here, have you?

It’s a bit of a conundrum, really, ’cause, you know, I’m thinking, “do I hand him back in one piece or do I chop you up into little pieces and stuff you inside a fucking Momomon or not?”

God, he’s got a great walk.

Fuck, that thing is hot.

You want a blanket? Want me to hold your hand?

Are you lying on the ground in the fetal position?

Keep your fucking knickers on, all right?

Please! What the fuck are you doing, you bell end?!

Make sure you do something that brings you peace, ’cause everything else is a pain in the ass.

And if you run into a guy named _____, he’s a dick. You can tell him I said so.

[alicenaivory]

•⊱ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐫𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐒𝐮𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫— II. •⊱ (written in 2018)

[I inhale the warmth of steam from a hot shower, removing thick crimson sticking to my skin. My body is nearly drenched in it, silently I take satisfaction out of watching it wash down the drain. This victim wasn’t like any of my usual kills. I didn’t fall into my recklessness. Instead I took it slower to watch it play out until I was bored of it. Damon finally came around, time after time of denying me he finally gave in. I couldn’t find the answer as to why he did and none of it mattered now. Being around him had already taught me patience. He gives me the guidance that I always thought I “needed” from him. This time I had used less compulsion, giving my victim their own choices and time to give me real reactions. It felt good to not know what will happen next, to let things take it’s on pace. I hadn’t noticed how much he was training me in his footsteps.

I’m pulled away from my own thoughts when the clear glass slides open and then shuts shortly after. I was once alone but now I’m accompanied by the man I want to devote myself to forever. I didn’t have to turn around and to know it was Damon. The softness of his lips touches the nape of my neck, his cool palms along with finger tips grip my waist. I’m drawn in closer, breath catching inside my throat just by the simplest touches by him I’m already breathless. I mentally take note of his unusual silence. I’ve been with Damon sixty two times, well, now would make sixty three. Each time I’ve never felt more alive and every single time I’ve studied him. By now I think I know him and he’s never this silent unless he’s annoyed. Silence is a complete absence of sound. Most people find silence to be peaceful and it shouldn’t bother me but this was /his/ silence. Damon’s silence made me feel uneasy like something was wrong. His silence gave me the impression that whatever we had was coming to an end.]

Damon, are you okay?

[I asked him in a tone of concern, shifting in my stance to turn around and face him. I look right up at him and into his piercing blue glaze. Our eyes were a similar color in shades. It was like looking into the clear blue sky and I couldn’t help my longing stare.

“I am. I am.” He let’s out a low laugh, shaking his head before the laughter dies. “You’re a pretty girl. Why not be with a pretty boy? His eyes. His perfectly styled hair. I mean I try...but it just does what it wants.”

When the first words fall from his lips I smiled. I think he’s going to compliment me, something he also never does often. My smile fades as he continues on about this /he/ a man that he thinks is so perfect. I can’t make out this /he/ that Damon speaks of. I try not to express the confusion but it was all over my face.]

Who’s this he you speak of and why do you think he’s worthy of me? Now I’m interested.

[A smile spreads back onto my pink plush lips. The other part of my mind is telling me this is a joke. I’m waiting for him to crack a smirk but he still seems serious. “Don’t play games, Alice. You know who.” There’s very little emotion behind his words until he says “My brother.” before cocking his head a little to the right.]

Stefan...

[I said the name from my lips softly, like I had known him but I hadn’t. I heard stories about all his great kills and I even became a fan but I’ve never met The Rippah himself.]

I never met him before but even if I did—I’ve already chosen my “pretty boy.” Do you question that?

[I watch his right hand raise and run through my blonde locks to uncover my neck. My flesh is in his perfect view, he pulls me in close to deeply inhale the scent of me before pushing me up against the shower wall.

“Why not, him? Isn’t he your type? Pretty boy. Sad puppy eyes. I mean I’m nothing more than just a fuck.” Damon flicks his tongue against his teeth, eyeing me, the blonde in front of him. “Not even a good one if /every/ female wants that jackass.” He was making it no secret that he felt like Stefan was superior and he was inferior. If only he was able to see himself through my eyes.]

Damon /you’re/ my type! Every other woman shouldn’t matter if you have me..right?

[For the first time I’ve discovered something I never thought I would on Damon. Insecurity. He had insecurities toward his brother. I could almost taste it on him. He wasn’t buying my answer even though I was being truthful.

Even listening to every word he said I can’t help myself from thinking about his body up against mine. It was selfish of me to think about self pleasure while he’s venting. Damon never vents, yet alone to me. I think I should take this seriously.]

I chose you to guide me because I saw a man that will always be worthy.

[My tone was meant to be assuring but I discovered in his eyes he didn’t believe me...or did he? I’m lifted from one side of the wall and shoved hard against the other, almost directly under the water stream. The impact of it aches my shoulder blades leaving bruises. I expel a soft whimper from my lips to hide my pain. I’m use to him being rough but this was different...all of this from him was different.

Damons bare hand grabs at my throat, his fingers lace around it tightly to cut off my breath but not fully. A smirk spreads on his lips as he slowly kissed down my neck, I close my eyes to enjoy it. He nibbles on the base of my ear , using a free hand to grab my wet locks, giving it a good tug.

“I can’t be deceived, Alice.” He whispers against my skin before bringing his face to mine. What did he mean? Did he think I was deceiving him? I want to ask but I’m distracted by the softness of his lips crashing against mine. His pearly white teeth began to nip at my lower lip, he adds pressure onto his bites, causing blood to be drawn. I expel a moan from my lips returning his kisses but I hadn’t reciprocated his actions. He growls against my lips continuing our kiss more intensively. I see he’s being more aggressive and I don’t shy away from it. I began to nip back at his lower lip and he sighs out of satisfaction. Is that all he wanted? For me to do it back?

A smile spread across his lips and mine as he kneeled down to lower himself and kiss between my full round breasts, releasing the hold he had on my neck. I feel his fingers as they tweaked at my nipples, lacing his tongue around the right one. My body reacted instantly, I dragged my own lower lip with my pearly white teeth. I can taste my own blood from the skin he tore. This man had a way of weakening me, he knew exactly what I liked as I did him to an extent. He continued to kiss down my body, past my breasts and to my navel, purposely teasing me until he gets to his intended spot nestled right between my thighs. My plush lips part forming a small “o” like shape to expel a moan from my lips.]

Damon..

[I say his name that falls easily from my lips like the thousands of times I’ve said it before. “I didn’t tell you to speak. Did I?” Damon mutters while swatting my thigh hard with an open palm. He hooks his fingers under my right knee to bend it and pull it over his shoulder. The softness of his lips trail kisses upon my inner thigh as he inches closer to my entrance. He uses his thumb and index finger to part my folds, I was clean, perfectly shaved, taunt, petite and small. His mouth opens to flick his tongue over it. I was wet and not just from the water we were submerged in.

“Alice...”

Damon calls my name before sticking out his tongue and laying it flat against my sex. Another moan falls from my lips, my manicured fingers lace into his dark raven locks. Pleasure rushes through me and all I want is more. He starts a rhythm moving his tongue in a up and down motion, curling the tip of it to wiggle it over my bundle of flesh. I feel my clit being suckled into his mouth, naturally my hips grind back to run from it. His grip tightens so I can’t pull away. After a few more seconds he releases it with a small pop, taking his mouth away from my drenching wet pussy.

“So fucking wet.”

He muttered as he eased his body back up to face me, he captures my lips into a kiss, he’s still being rough with me. He takes his nails and digs them into my left shoulder, dragging it downward to give me open wounds. I whimper at the pain, it takes me by surprise. He’s never done this to me before. Was he trying to punish me for what I said earlier? I notice his nostrils flare as he leans down to run his tongue up my shoulder, intaking my blood. My wounds heal instantly seconds later and his focus is back on me. I look right into his eyes catching that devilish stare. I’m not one of his victims, so why is he looking at me like he would one?

I want to tell him he’s being too rough with me, resist him and be strong enough to go against him but I didn’t. I feel both of my inner thighs being gripped by his hands, he pulls me up to balance me against the wet wall. I hook my legs around his waist trying to keep up against the slippery surface. His hard tip presses against my entrance, he forces himself into me without ease this time. I expel a gasp from my lips, enjoying the pleasure and pain as I impaled myself on his length. I notice his jaw tightens as my teeth clench together almost as hard as my walls clamped around him. I was tight, hot and soaked like a water fall, surrounding him with my walls.

Our eyes met one another’s and I feel more connected to him than ever. I take both of my hands and lay them onto his shoulder blades. I give a tight grip while his hands rest at my waist. Damon moves his hips back only to slam them back forward against me. I didn’t hold back, I expressed my pleasure. I ignore the pressure on my back from him pinning me on the wall with his body. I lean forward to press my lips against his passionately, he rests his hand on my cheek. He grips each side of my jaw stopping our kiss by force. I’m taken back by his constant mood swings, I don’t know what he wants. I can’t make out what he’s feelings and secretly it’s frustrating me.

I watch dark veins pulse underneath his eyelids, his eyes turning black and his canines noticeable. Damon’s vampire visage takes over his human one. I run my tongue across my lower lip, digging my nails into the flesh of his shoulder blades as his thrusts become more intense. I feel his hand grip the back of my neck, forcing my head toward the right. It catches me off guard when his teeth tares carelessly into my neck. He tares out a plug of my skin, spitting it out on the floor. His thrusts are still nonstop and though I wanted pleasure, I feel threatened. My eyes widen out of fear, crimson spills down my neck.]

Wait, you’re hurting me!

[I shout to him as a warning but he doesn’t stop, he tares deeper into my throat. I hear the crushing sound and more puddles of blood spilling out of me. Is he trying to kill me all of a sudden? I attempt to push him back but his strength overpowers me. I hear his animalistic grunts, the power in his thrusts getting hard enough to make me sore. I can hear them.]

Damon, what are you doing?! Stop!

[I yelled out to him but he doesn’t react. I unhook one of my legs from around him, hands swatting at his back to stop him. My own dark veins began to pulse under my eyes, vampire visage taking over as I feel weaker. In enhanced speed he throws me to the other end of the tub. The impact causing me to hit the floor, shower water still running down his flawless skin. My crimson runs more freely down my neck, coating me in what I originally took a shower to clean off.

There’s a demonic gleam in his eyes, his breathing is heavy making his chest heave. I don’t move an inch, keeping my hands against the floor. I’m shocked, startled and most of all... I’m hurt. Was this because he didn’t believe me? It was natural of me to think it was something I had done but what if this time it wasn’t?

My body shakes as tears stream down both of my cheeks. Even though I’m crying he has no reaction to it, he licks off the remaining of my crimson against his chin. “Still want me?” He takes a step closer to me and I can’t bring myself to say another word. “Is this what you want? What you call a maker?!” My heart races inside my chest, I could feel it each time it beats. I close my eyes feeling more tears hit the surface of my cheeks. “I bet you’ll run to him now.” He opens up the glass sliding door, slamming it behind him and the pieces shatter.

I know he expects me to leave as I should...]

—Part 2—

[randomly-thought-about]

My Commentary That No-One Asked For

I am not a true crime fan . However, after hearing the Sherri Papini story I had so much to say. So here is my commentary that literally no-one asked for. Also my opinion is solely based on the Hulu documentary about this story so yeah:

After hearing the entire Sherri Papini story I feel like she was truly sick in the head.

I never believed she was kidnapped for a second. However, I did think at first that her husband might have had something to do with her disappearance based solely on the fact that I didn't believe any woman who was referred to as a "supermom" by her friends and family would ever randomly leave their children for any reason at all.

Sherri did though. She woke up one morning and decided today is the day I get kidnapped. She faked her kidnapping for 22 days. Her friends and family spent that time searching for her and the media picked up the story as well. So now the entire world was looking and praying for her safe return. Whole time, she was cooped up in her ex-boyfriend/ex-fiance's (depends on who you ask) house for 22 days beating and starving herself until Thanksgiving morning when she finally missed her kids and decided it was time to return home.

You're probably wondering what the ex had to do with all this. Come to find out she was lying and manipulating him and basically everyone around her into thinking she was a victim. Victim of what you ask? Well, every terrible thing you can think of. A victim of several forms of abuse throughout her entire lifetime. Now, how much of that is true no one really knows. Obviously this person is a compulsive liar and a master manipulator so a grain of salt is all her statements are worth. After she was "found" she continued to lie. When I say lie I mean LIE.

She told everyone she was kidnapped by two hispanic ladies

(side note: she gave the FBI sketch artist the most generic description of an older and younger hispanic woman causing real fear and repercussions in the hispanic community at that time. Many hispanic women altered their lives in order to not be seen as a suspect in this case. Truly heart breaking.)

and was drugged, beaten, and chained to a closet in a small room where the window was boarded up. She goes on to say she was made to use the restroom in a small trashcan filled with kitty litter, and was only allowed to shower twice in 22 days (I don't know what kidnapper lets you shower but I digress). These details are horrible and her family and friends morned her old self knowing that the "new Sherri"was beyond traumatized and for a lack of better words completely fucked up by this experience. As anyone would be. Her story changed and some details just didn't add up.

Some years later they found out she was indeed lying and had obviously read too many books and watched too many movies. But the question remained.. Why did she do all of this?

Well, in my opinion I believe she did all this to keep up the "damsel in distress" persona she had created for herself. I also think she just couldn't stop lying. She loved to tell stories. She got off on making her life seem more dramatic than it truly was. She is addicted to attention. She needs it.

I do feel bad for the husband though because I really thought it was him. Ironically though he ended up being a victim in the end.

In conclusion, Sherri Panini wanted attention. That much is clear and in the end she got just that. But you know what they say

Don't fake your own kidnapping because you will go to prison and also who does that? Like seriously just like start a podcast or something I don't know.

Peace

[ot7always]

In the Dead of Night

banner courtesy of the wonderfully talented @dee-ehn​ !

Word Count: 14.5k

Pairing: Vampire!Jin x Reader

Genre: Vampire!AU, friends to lovers, smut, fluff

Warnings: dom!Jin, sub!Reader, non-gory blood and knife injury (it’s there, but mostly humorous and/or with very little specific description), biting (like actual biting), vampire compulsion (nothing concerning consent-wise), marking, hair pulling, grinding, size kink, spanking (hand), fingering, praise, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare

Rating: 18+

Summary: Courtesy of my roommate, who summarized my story much better than I ever could:

A/N: It’s finally here! I meant for this to be about half the length and be released more than a week or 2 ago, but as you very well know, things don’t exactly go as planned in 2020. Regardless, I enjoyed writing this fic a lot, so please let me know what you think!

--

Saturdays at 3 am were supposed to be peaceful.

Well – at your apartment, that is. You couldn’t account for whoever elected to roam the streets of downtown at night.

But what was definitely not supposed to be happening was being awoken from your deep slumber by furious pounding on your front door.

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

When you glanced groggily over at your alarm clock and saw the time, you could have screamed.

Just as you reached for your phone to call the cops on whatever psychopath was probably waking up your entire floor, your screen lit up with a text.

Suckjin [03:19]: plz open ur door

Oh, for fuck’s sake.

Sliding out of bed, you hissed as your bare feet hit the cold hardwood.

This had better be fucking worth it.

Plodding out of your bedroom on tiptoes to avoid as much contact with the floor as possible, you made your way to the front door without even bothering to throw on shorts under your oversized t-shirt.

Whatever. You were sure that brat has seen thighs before.

While the knocks had thankfully quieted for a moment, he started up again just as you reached the door.

Before he could even dare bang his fist against the wood again, you were turning the deadbolt and whipping the door open, readying your fiercest glare for the broad man standing before you.

Right as you opened your mouth to start cussing him out, he sprung towards you, hands pushing you further inside your apartment and shutting the door before you could even blink.

When he turned to face you again, hands on his stomach, you prepared for the verbal onslaught you were about to send his way.

“Just what in the absolute hell do you think you’re-”

When your eyes naturally followed the path of his arms down to his stomach, what you saw there shut you up immediately.

Wide-eyed, you took a step back, eyes never leaving the sight before you. He-

As your breath quickened, a (miraculously clean) hand shot out to cover your mouth gently, though you were sure he was ready to clamp down at a moment’s notice.

“Please don’t scream.”

When you were finally able to break your gaze from his abdomen and look at his face instead, pleading eyes locked with yours, his skin paler than usual.

As frightened as you were, you calmed some when you processed the fact that he seemed to be standing before you just fine, albeit the fact that his eyes appeared somewhat unfocused.

You nodded, reaching a shaky hand up to remove his from your face, shivering at how cold and clammy he felt.

When you could speak again, you spent a few moments collecting your thoughts before you opened your mouth again.

“You - you have a knife in you!” you hissed, stepping closer to move his jacket aside to get a better look.

It wasn’t that gruesome a sight, especially not when he was wearing a black t-shirt, but it was no less jarring to have your friend show up in the middle of the night after seemingly being stabbed.

“I know that!” he hissed back, slightly exasperated, muffling a groan when you tried to inch his shirt up to glance at the skin beneath.

“Why the hell do you have a knife in you?” you whispered furiously, pulling him by the arm to settle down onto your couch.

He plopped down with a sigh of relief, his head lolling back momentarily. You hoped he knew that he was paying your cleaning bills if he bled all over your loveseat.

“Now, now, didn’t anyone ever tell you not to remove the knife if you get stabbed?” he said with a pained chuckle, sucking in a breath at the movement it caused.

“Seokjin, now is not the time to joke around,” you said, panic rising in you because you had absolutely no clue what you were supposed to do with a vampire who had a knife embedded in him. “Why did you come here?”

“Well you were the only person I could think of who would answer their door at 3 am-”

“Seokjin!”

“Sorry, sorry.” You didn’t tend to call him that unless you were genuinely annoyed, and he seemed to drop the humorous demeanor immediately.

“Why didn’t you go to a hospital?”

“I can’t go to a hospital.”

“What?! Why not?”

“Okay, correction – I didn’t want to go to a hospital.”

You let out a groan of frustration, fingers rubbing circles into your temples. This man was going to be the death of you. You had no idea why vampires seemed to have such an aversion to hospitals, but you supposed you could never understand. Despite their existence being generally accepted in society so long as they didn’t leave trails of bodies in their wake, there must have been some other reason nobody had ever shared with you.

“Seokjin, I really don’t know what to do here,” you whispered, an ounce of desperation and unease making its way into your tone. His expression softened at the sound, reaching for your hand. As much as he might have been trying to comfort you, the feeling of his hand unusually icy against yours only scared you more.

“I...” he trailed off, trying to figure out a good way to phrase this before settling on being straightforward. “...need blood.”

“Huh?” You furrowed your brow. “You literally have blood at home.”

“No, I, uhh...” he paused. “I need fresh blood to heal something like this.”

You froze. He needed fresh blood? He showed up here because he wanted... your blood?

“Aren’t there places you can go for blood?” you asked, tensing up at the notion of being bitten. It wasn’t that you were so totally opposed – it was no secret that people said it felt good. But you had never been bitten before, and you didn’t know what to think about Seokjin showing up here for that reason.

“I came here because I trust you the most,” he said, squeezing your hand. “Please. I promise I would never do this unless I had to. But please – you can say no, but tell me right now, because this hurts so much.”

Seeing his pained expression and feeling the way his fingers gripped yours like a lifeline, there was absolutely no way you were letting him back outside to roam the streets. You had no idea how this really happened to him, but despite their general acceptance, vampire hunters still existed. Like hell you were going to let easy bait walk right into their hands.

Especially not Seokjin.

“I – okay, I just – I don’t know why I’m nervous.” Biting was a pretty private, intimate thing. Most vampires drank bagged blood, with live donors only in carefully-controlled emergency clinics or heavily guarded clubs.

There was, of course, the cases of vampire-human relationships or hookups, but most people didn’t tend to share the ultra-specific details of their sex life.

Not that you had never attempted research on your own, but anecdotes you found on the internet varied so wildly that you had to wonder whether they were even telling the truth.

“I promise I can control myself. I would never put you in danger.”

“No, I know, it’s not that,” you mumbled. “Just... will it hurt?”

“Oh. No, it shouldn’t.”

“It shouldn’t? I don’t know how reassuring that is,” you chuckled nervously. You weren’t about to back out now, but you had at least hoped that he would have a straight answer for you.

He took a shaky breath, and a pang of guilt went through you for asking so many questions.

“The more attracted a vampire and donor are to each other, emotionally and physically, the better it’ll feel for you.”

“And you?”

He smirked, and curse him for making it look good despite his unfortunate... situation. “Me? I’m a vampire, it always feels good.”

Right. You might have facepalmed at the stupid question that left your own lips, but his voice momentarily distracted you from doing so.

“Anyway, I know my face isn’t a problem, so unless you secretly hate me or something, you’ll be okay,” he grinned.

“I’m so glad you can joke around right now,” you snorted derisively. “If I secretly hated you, you wouldn’t be here, would you?”

“Fair.”

“Anyway, I’ll do it, just,” you winced. “Don’t call me a donor. It feels weird.”

“Deal,” he said quickly, pulling you closer to him. “Thank you for this. Really, I owe you.”

You sighed. “I can’t just let you bleed out somewhere in the world, can I?” You allowed him to pull you close enough that you were hovering over him with your legs touching his, and you stood awkwardly in silence. “Uhh, what should I do?”

He patted his lap in invitation and your face warmed at the notion, but you straddled his legs before your brain had time to dwell on it.

He raised a hand to nudge the collar of your shirt away from your neck, his icy fingers and the sensation of his nails on your skin sending a shiver down your spine. When his thumb rubbed gently against the warmth of your neck, you had to suppress a gasp at the surprisingly intimate touch.

When you focused your gaze on his face, his eyes were not fixed on your own, but rather on the movements of his own hand, his pupils obscenely dilated. You’d never seen him look so lustful, so hungry.

Heat undeniably flared in your core (much without your consent), and it was wishful thinking to hope that Seokjin didn’t pick up on your quickening breath or rapid heartbeat.

“I...” he whispered, trailing off before he’d even begun.

“Hm?” you answered, already feeling dazed before his fangs had even touched you.

“I need you to pull the knife out.”

Well, that certainly broke you free of your trance.

“What!? Me? You – I – me?” you stuttered in a very flattering display of eloquence.

“I’m... not sure I have the strength right now,” he admitted ruefully, and you could tell that if it were really up to him, he would be doing it himself.

Just what have you gotten yourself into?

“Fine,” you murmured, raising both hands to grip firmly at the handle of the blade. “Just – don’t bite me until I put this knife down, okay? We don’t need any more... accidents.”

He failed to hold back a laugh at that, and you managed to crack a grin in response. “Okay, okay.”

To think he had you so utterly flustered and at his whim only moments ago.

“On the count of three,” you breathed, bracing yourself for something you certainly never expected anyone to ask of you. “One... two... three.”

When you reached three, you flinched your eyes shut, pulling as hard as you could in one quick burst, desperate to have this all over before it started.

The sensation was something odd and unspeakable, and you turned to toss the knife on the table behind you before you could register the uncomfortable warmth on your hands.

But the exact moment the sound of metal clattering on glass reached your ears, your head was being wrenched back by large hands, plump lips and hot breath coming into contact with your neck before you realized he’d moved.

You could barely suck in a gasp before a hand moved to grip tightly at your waist, and fangs sunk into your skin.

White-hot pain lanced through your body like electricity, and for a moment you were thinking you were done for. Seokjin was wrong, maybe he lied, and you definitely lacked the strength to push off a dying vampire determined to drink.

But just as you opened your mouth, whether to scream or cry or whatever else, you were immediately silenced, a breathy groan soon pulled from your throat.

The sudden onslaught of pleasure flowing through your limbs had you weak, your body falling limp into sensation immediately.

Clearly prepared for this outcome, Seokjin only pulled you closer to him, the hand on your waist supporting your body, a hand fisted near your scalp keeping your head back. The casual display of strength pulled a whimper from you, your body feeling hot all over.

Your eyelids fluttered closed, and you had to wonder when you had opened them at all, because you couldn’t recall processing a single thing visually since his fangs touched you.

You thought that would be as good as it gets, but the pleasure only kept building and building. It rendered you almost completely immobile, your world reduced to Seokjin at your neck, the broad planes of his body below yours, and the myriad of bliss flooding your veins. Heat was throbbing in your cunt, your nipples hard and almost pained as they rubbed against the roughness of your t-shirt.

You raised your hands that were sitting idle at your sides to fist into Seokjin’s shirt, giving no thought to the fact that he was gravely injured in that spot only minutes ago, fingers feeling almost numb and not registering the wetness that was there either.

“Ah - Jin,” you cried loudly as the bliss only built, tossing your head back to bare more of your neck.

He growled ferally into your skin, the sound going straight to your core. He pulled you closer still, enough that your breasts pressed harshly into his chest, your hips slotted together.

Sighing happily at the pressure right where you needed it most, you ground desperately against whatever you could feel against you. When you felt the undeniable hardness of Seokjin’s cock against your cunt and its delicious friction against your soaked-through panties, you moaned obscenely.

You felt rather than heard his gasp in response, his grip around you tightening even further, enough that you felt out of breath.

You whimpered at the restriction, his strength keeping you from grinding against him no matter how hard you tried.

You cursed him internally, but there was no way you were going to formulate words at this point, your mind completely lost to euphoric delirium.

It felt as though you were floating, head thrown back as sparks flew up your spine relentlessly.

Despite the lack of proper friction against your cunt, you could feel pressure building in your abdomen. You were close, so close, so undeniably close-

Fangs retracted from your neck, and the sudden loss was like ice water being thrown over your head. You shivered.

The tight grip on you loosened, Seokjin leaning into the back of the couch and groaning.

When you opened your eyes you almost fell over at the way the world spun, dizziness and blurry vision almost distracting you from the orgasm that seemed only moments away.

Almost.

Blinking furiously until you managed to fix your gaze onto Seokjin’s face, you sucked in a harsh breath at the sight before you.

Irises swimming with crimson, pupils blown out, chest heaving, dark hair mussed, lips painted red, fangs still visible past his parted lips – he looked the very picture of sin.

Fuck.

Though if you had a mirror, you would see that you looked just as ruined – eyes wanton and desperate, teeth gnawing into your bottom lip, dark bruises colouring your neck. If temptation were a person, it would be you, sitting in Seokjin’s lap with your soaked panties still pressed against the bulge in his pants.

As you stared at each other, it was as though time froze. Neither of you moved an inch, seemingly content to remain in some kind of intense, sensual staredown for the rest of time.

But you’d never claimed to be a patient person, and when you finally felt confident that your body was yours again, you acted.

If he wanted to push you away, he could have. His reflexes always seemed to almost predict the future, and you were positive that if he didn’t want this, he would have stopped you. He was never one to avoid voicing his discontent, even if it was masked as a self-deprecating joke. Some part of you deep down expected him to end this before it had even begun.

He didn’t.

Your lips met his in a depraved frenzy, too far gone to make any attempt at starting slow. It was rough, and it was messy, and it was desperate, and you loved it. His fangs scraped at your bottom lip and you gasped, fisting your hands into his hair as your body remembered how it felt the last time those fangs breached your skin. But as you ground your clit into the sizeable bulge in his pants again, he froze.

Just as you were about to pull away to see what caught his attention, he pushed you away first, hands firmly on your shoulders.

“Wait, wait, wait,” he gasped, and it very much looked like it took all of his willpower to break away.

“What’s wrong?” you asked weakly, your head still spinning, body absolutely overcome by lust. In fact, he was looking a bit blurry again with how fast he moved you, and it took several moments of rapid blinking before you met his very concerned gaze. Nothing ever escaped him, and you were sure that your semi-weak state was very obvious to him right now.

Not that it affected how much you wanted his touch, his cock.

“You don’t know what you’re doing.”

Your brow furrowed. “I do know what I’m doing,” you said firmly – or at least, you tried, but it took far too much effort to wrap your tongue around the syllables, almost as if you were drunk.

“Y/N-”

“Why don’t you believe me?” you whined, this time sounding a bit more coherent. You tried to push toward him, but his hold was too strong. “You want it too, look at your face.”

He sighed, looking to the ceiling as though it held some answer on how to make this easier. “It’s not about whether I want it or not. You’re not thinking straight.”

“Jinnie,” you whimpered needily, reaching your hands toward the waistband of his pants. If he didn’t touch you soon, you swore that you would scream. “Please. I want it. I want you. I promise-”

He moved to snatch your hands before you could touch him, and your mouth clamped shut at the grip. His expression was almost pained for a moment before his eyes glazed over with a look that would have had you on your knees immediately.

His hand shot up to grip your chin firmly, ensuring that you couldn’t look away. Though, you didn’t think you could look away if you tried, drawn to the unspeakable darkness you found there, crimson still invading the rich brown.

“Why don’t you be a good girl and sleep for me?”

“Wh-what?” you choked out, but it was as though you’d lost control of your body, feeling as though you’d been awake for days without sleep. Your eyelids fluttered shut, but you forced them back open, groaning weakly when your vision fell upon Seokjin, his expression still dark and hungry.

You were about to open your mouth again, but something about his eyes was so captivating. Something about the red pulled you in, left you unable to think. Were his eyes always this beautiful? You wracked your brain, but came up blank. You wanted to open your mouth and ask him, but you couldn’t move a muscle. Even still, your face drew closer to his as though pulled in by a magnet.

His eyes roved over your face before meeting your gaze once more, and you missed the flash of sympathy that was present for only a moment. You were relieved when he looked at you again, fingers twitching with the urge to cup his face. You were content to look at him for the rest of time – if there was anything Seokjin had, it was time, right?

Attention focused on each other, he parted his lips, and you could have sworn your ears buzzed, desperate to hold on to every word.

“Sleep.”

Your vision went black.

--

You awoke to a hand scratching gently at your scalp, a great contrast to the relentless hammering of your head. You groaned, shoving your face further into your pillow, blocking out the light that was already worsening the ache of your skull, even with your eyes closed.

You were so comfy, so relaxed at the touch that you almost drifted right back to sleep.

Wait.

You lived alone.

Sitting up all in a rush, you gasped as the world spun. It only got worse when you forced your eyes open, a pained whine leaving your lips as even the limited light in the room only introduced more pain behind your eyes.

“Woah! It’s just me, it’s just me.” Seokjin’s voice came out in a rush, sturdy arms lowering you back to your pillow as he pulled the sheets up to shadow your face.

Right. Seokjin.

Your heartbeat calmed, recalling his arrival late last night. Though, what came next was all a blur you couldn’t bother trying to remember right now.

You heard him step away quickly, the sound of your curtains drawing completely closed having you let out a sigh of relief. His footsteps neared you again, his cool touch returning to stroke gently at your face, before moving to massage at the base of your skull.

His touch was so delicate it almost baffled you. You didn’t think he’d touch anyone like this, his displays of affection more inclined to loud compliments and playful roughhousing.

But you couldn’t deny that it felt incredible, your neck arching almost imperceptively as you leaned into his touch. The chill of his skin against yours sent a shiver through you, and you tried to ignore the fluttering in your chest.

“Are you cold?”

Blood rushed to your face at the observation, though you only gave a noncommittal noise in return. He didn’t need to know what was going on in your mind.

“My head hurts,” you mumbled quietly, a pout overtaking your lips. Seokjin had to force himself not to laugh at how cute you looked then.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he replied softly, lulling you back into a half-asleep state with the gentle motions of his hand on you.

You couldn’t tell how long it was before you opened your eyes again – it could have been 2 minutes or it could have been two hours. You couldn’t even tell whether you’d drifted off or not.

It was fortunately much darker than the first time you opened your eyes, much to the relief of your headache that had faded some, but was still thudding away.

What you didn’t expect, however, was to be greeted by the golden skin of Seokjin’s chest, the shadows of the room only making it look more unreal.

You blearily blinked several times before determining that yes, that was Seokjin half-naked and perched on a kitchen chair. You tried to get words out and failed, clearing your throat before trying again.

“Where are your clothes?”

He grinned. “A bit ruined, if you recall.”

Right.

At least his pants were still on. That was best for your sanity.

“Why does my head hurt so much?” you asked, luckily able to keep your eyes open now to look at him without the pain multiplying tenfold.

He winced, his chest aching at the pained expression on your face. “I’m sorry. That’s my fault.”

“What do you mean? Because you bit me?”

“No, not that.” He raised his free hand to scratch awkwardly at his ear.

“Huh? Why then?” All of this was so confusing. Maybe you should have done more research on vampires in your life, though you never expected to be in this sort of situation.

“I, uhh... compelled you.” He gnawed nervously at his lip, but rather than the lashing out he might have expected, you only looked at him in confusion.

“You what? Why?”

“What do you remember from last night?” he posed to you instead.

As much as you tried to recall, you couldn’t focus on anything with the state your head was in. You remembered him arriving at your house, a bit of stupid banter, getting on the couch, sitting in his lap. Then, he bit you.

Then what?

You honestly didn’t know, and you couldn’t help the fear that crept its way through you at that realization.

“You bit me...” you trailed off, looking away from his face and instead staring into the sheets near where your hands laid.

He hummed in affirmation, clearly urging you to continue.

“And then, I don’t really know,” you whispered, an edge of panic in your voice.

He sighed. “That’s what I thought. Don’t worry, it’ll come back.”

“Did something bad happen?” You tried to wrack your brain for possible scenarios where he would have had to compel you to do something, and you came up blank every time. What could you have done? Attacked him? Or did he go crazy at the taste of your blood and attack you? No, that didn’t make any sense – you were lying in bed feeling perfectly normal besides the headache.

What the hell happened?

“Nothing bad happened. I just... made you sleep before we did something stupid.”

It felt like the more he told you, the less you knew. Before you did something stupid? As in, did something stupid together?

There was something about the way he was choosing his words that led you to only one conclusion – in fact, he sounded an awful lot like Taehyung bemoaning his drunken hookups.

There was no way you almost fucked... right?

You’d have to know, right? There was no way you would have gone along with that... right?

It wasn’t as though you’d never had a spur of the moment one-night stand, but with Seokjin? There was absolutely no way you would’ve let that happen. A person had to protect their heart, after all.

“Stop overthinking right now, you’ll just make the pain worse.”

“I’m not,” you protested, though you didn’t know why you even tried lying. It was a bit hard to trick someone who was both a vampire and your friend.

“I can literally hear you freaking out. Please just try to rest, you’ll remember when the headache goes away.”

You sighed, trying to ease the tension in your body you didn’t even realize you had. “Are you sure?”

“Positive,” he said confidently, his hand trailing away to rub firm circles into your shoulder instead.

“Mm.” You might have said something, but proper words evaded you at his touch. You tried focusing on him rather than the thrum of your skull, and you had to force yourself to keep your eyes open.

The expression on Seokjin’s face was one you hadn’t seen before. His eyes looked into yours with a softness that felt unfamiliar, a soft smile overtaking his lips when he saw how exhausted you looked.

“Sleep if you’re tired, princess,” he murmured, pulling the sheets up higher to cover you more. “Do you want another blanket?”

You could feel your heart speed up in your chest at the pet name and his tenderness, and you cursed the fact that there was no way to hide anything from him. At least he was polite enough not to tease you like he did your other friends.

You were so momentarily flustered that you almost forgot to respond, only nodding in response as you curled further into yourself. If you were any braver, maybe you would have asked him to join you instead.

It was only moments before he was tossing the throw from your living room over you, and it almost startled you. Sometimes you forgot how eerily fast he could move, considering he usually slowed himself to your pace whenever you were together.

You let out a contented sigh as you snuggled into the additional warmth, already feeling only half-conscious. You had just enough energy to let out a mumbled ‘thanks’ before you were drifting off again.

--

When you awoke this time, it felt as though you were an entirely new person. For starters, your head felt blissfully quiet. You were sure you would have cried if you woke up to just as much pain. There was only so much you could take in one 24-hour period. Seokjin had really done a number on your weekend, hadn’t he?

Speaking of Seokjin, he was nowhere to be seen in your bedroom. Though you were sure he was still somewhere. It wasn’t quite his style to disappear without saying goodbye, and you were even more doubtful that he would just leave after biting you.

Biting you.

At the thought, images flooded your mind faster than you could process them.

His fangs at your neck.

The relentless pleasure that invaded every fibre of your being.

Your lips on his.

Your brazen grinding against him.

And, your refusal to stop despite his words.

Holy fuck.

Was it possible to go back to when you didn’t remember and you could ignorantly lay in bed with Seokjin stroking your head?

You sat up only to bury your head in your hands, letting out a loud, embarrassed, frustrated groan while you were at it. If Seokjin didn’t know you were awake before, he surely did now. But merciful as ever, he allowed you to wallow in your mortification alone.

Was there anything worse than trying to mindlessly and basically drunkenly make your way into your friend’s pants and get denied? Your friend who you maybe found a little bit (extremely) attractive in every way, shape, and form?

Well, of course there were worse things, but to you in this moment, it certainly felt like a new low.

It took you a moment to find your footing once you’d hopped out of bed, but luckily you felt good as new otherwise. If you stayed in here alone too much longer you would certainly lose the minimal nerve you had and never leave.

In your rush to make use of your bravery, you remembered at the last moment that you were still in just your panties and shirt with no bra.

When you made it to your dresser, you paused at your reflection.

It was almost... startling how normal you looked. Though, what should you have looked like?

Baring your neck and squinting at the image in front of you, you had to scratch at your neck yourself to verify whether you were imagining it.

Aside from bruises that already seemed to be fading, there were no marks on your neck. Did it really heal that fast?

Maybe you should have been a bit embarrassed that you were so clueless on the whole subject. But in your defense, information on the internet didn’t seem to be very reliable, and vampires, for some reason, seemed to love their air of mystery. Based on the few you knew well, you were pretty sure they got a fair amount of amusement out of the misconceptions flying around.

Finally fully dressed for the first time since Seokjin showed up unannounced, you flung your door open with all the confidence you could muster.

Which is to say, you cracked your door open just enough for you to stick your head out. Much to your dismay, your eyes met Seokjin’s on the couch almost immediately, your face ducked toward the floor as you slinked your way over to the living room.

You stopped on the opposite side of the table, the sight of the stained knife there definitely not helping in your hope to distract yourself from what a fool you’d made of yourself the night before.

Out of curiosity, your gaze shot up to examine his abdomen.

You didn’t know why the perfectly smooth and unblemished muscle you found there was of any surprise to you after the night you’ve had, but it was. There wasn’t a single trace of any injury or blood on him – in fact, he looked much cleaner than when he got here. Did he use your shower?

A throat clearing had your eyes instinctively locking with his, an amused smile playing over his features that shot embarrassment through your veins. Of course the one time your ogling was purely scientific, he had to catch you and make fun of you.

You couldn’t stop your sight from drifting back down, the concept of there being absolutely no trace of anything happening to him boggling your mind.

“You really...” you trailed off, eyes darting back and forth across his bare skin one last time just to be sure. “You really healed, just like that?”

He only nodded, tapping the unbroken skin for emphasis. “You can heal me, I can heal you. Convenient, isn’t it?”

You nodded back in response, silence taking over the room quickly. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do to fill it. You’ve never experienced an awkward silence with Seokjin before, his charming nature always keeping everyone around him comfortable. This sort of energy in the room with him... it was unsettling.

“Y/N,” Seokjin called out once the silence went on a moment too long for his liking. “Can you come sit with me?”

He scooted over to make plenty of room for you, but you felt almost frozen in place. Did he really want your company after you’d pretty much jumped him? Was he sitting you down so he could let you down easy, tell you that this has been real, but he refused to associate with someone with so little self-control?

You must have stood there staring for longer than you thought, because an unreadable expression crossed his face before he spoke up again.

“Are you scared of me?”

Huh?

“No!” you blurted out, your volume clearly surprising him. “Well, a little?”

“Oh.” If you weren’t paying such close attention to him, you would have missed the hurt that flashed in his eyes. But you didn’t.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant,” you said hurriedly. You wanted to smack yourself for being such a blatant mess. “I’m just... scared,” you finished weakly.

His gaze softened immediately, and he had to restrain himself from hopping over the table between you to pull you into his arms. You looked like you were trying to shrink into yourself, your shoulders pulled towards your chest, hands wringing nervously in front of you.

“Did you think I would be upset?” he asked softly. He leaned forward, earnest expression on his face.

That was an understatement. You could live with “drunkenly” coming onto someone, but you didn’t know what you would do if it ended up costing you your friendship. Maybe you were being overly dramatic, but you never claimed to be the most rational person.

You nodded slowly, your vision dropping to stare at the floor, hands wrapped around your middle, squeezing as you struggled to maintain composure. You didn’t know why your heart was beating a mile a minute, your palms uncomfortably sweaty. You usually didn’t feel this level of fear when confronting a mistake that, to a normal person, shouldn’t be such an obscenely big deal as you were making it. But Seokjin was certainly not a normal person to you, and any situation that lowered his opinion of you was one you would do anything to avoid.

“Hey.” The sudden gentle hand on your chin made you squeak, and you would have stumbled in your rush to step backward if not for the steadying hand on your shoulder.

You always seemed to forget that he could move so quickly and silently. Your heart might stop at this rate if he wasn’t careful.

His thumb stroked at your jaw as if he hadn’t just seen you nearly fall flat on your ass, softly tapping under your chin until you met his gaze.

“I promise I’m the furthest thing from mad right now. Nothing is even your fault, okay?”

“But-”

“No buts. Let’s talk, but I’m not upset. Okay?” he urged, eyes not leaving yours until you nodded. The smile he gave in return made you feel warm, the tenderness in his gaze doing things to your heart, the hint of a smile ghosting your lips.

The hand on your shoulder nudged you toward him, the other opening wide to welcome you into a hug.

You went easily, your arms wrapping around his bare waist as you tucked your face into his chest. The relief you felt at his reassurance was immense, and you melted into his touch. It was almost strange how well you fit together.

“Let’s sit,” he said, kind yet firm. He led you over to the couch, settling himself down into the spot where he seemed to have spent much of the past day in.

You didn’t know what possessed you to straddle his lap in the way you did last night. Maybe it was the way he looked at you warmly without judgment, or the way your body craved his nearness after getting a taste of his touch. But whatever it was, he didn’t push you away – rather, he reached for your hands, interlacing his fingers with your own.

This position wasn’t the most “innocent” to begin with, but with the memories of last night rushing through your head, of his teeth at your neck and the pleasure you felt, your breath sped up.

With the expression on Seokjin’s face, you were sure he must have been thinking the same thing, hungry eyes flickering from your lips back up to your waiting gaze. Unlike you, however, he didn’t seem at all embarrassed.

“Are you confused?” he asked suddenly.

Caught off guard by the sudden question, your brows furrowed. Though you didn’t know just exactly what he was referring to, what will all that happened, but your answer was still the same regardless.

You nodded hesitantly, but he didn’t speak, your puzzled expression telling him that you were still working things out in your head. The silence stretched on until you finally spoke up again.

“You didn’t tell me it would be like... that.” Euphoric. Dreamlike. Intense. No matter what word you used, it still didn’t feel enough to encompass what you experienced the night before. You’d never experienced white-hot physical and even emotional pleasure like that, not in all your years of life.

You dropped your gaze down to your joined hands, watching the way he fiddled with your fingers as he pondered his next words. It felt unusual to have a conversation with him in this way – you both tended to be people who said what they thought without thinking on it too much, with friends at least. But it was reassuring to see him so serious, to see that he really did care.

“I didn’t tell you because I didn’t think it was a possibility,” he finally said. He sounded confident in his words, but you found it odd that he was fidgeting so much. He hadn’t stopped moving his hands since taking hold of yours, and even his legs were starting to shift beneath yours. Why did he seem so nervous?

“What does that mean?”

“Is there anything you want to tell me?” he responded instead, leaving you staring at him, baffled.

“Huh?” you replied, immediately defensive.

You didn’t have the smallest idea of what that question meant, but he fixed his gaze on you inquisitively. Did he think you had some big secret or something? Sure, he didn’t know everything about your life, but there was nothing so exceptional about you that not mentioning it would be some sort of betrayal.

“Uhh, never mind.”

“What do you mean, never mind? You can’t just ask me something like then and then say that,” you huffed, lips forming a thin line.

“Sorry I just thought – do you remember what I told you when you asked if it would hurt?”

You swore he was going to give you whiplash with his questions, but at least this one was easy to answer.

“Sure, you said the closer two people are the better it feels. Something like that, right?”

“Right, so, uhh, it wouldn’t normally feel that intense, you know?”

The fact that he definitely seemed to know exactly what was going on and kept beating around the bush was more than a little bit frustrating. Considering he was normally as straightforward as a person could get, though, you opted to simple stare expectantly at him. But if he didn’t cut to the point in approximately 20 seconds, your annoyance would just about outweigh your concern.

“It shouldn’t feel that way unless you liked me back,” he finally said, all in one breath.

You could only blink blankly as you processed his words, but when it clicked, you went from mildly annoyed to incredibly flustered all in the same second.

“HUH?! Wait, back?” You could almost feel your headache coming back with how many directions this conversation has taken in less than 15 minutes. Your hands were starting to feel disgustingly clammy in his, but neither of you moved to separate them.

“I know this is so sudden, and I didn’t expect to be outed like this either and it doesn’t have to mean anything, like I know I like you a lot, like a lot a lot, but I don’t really know how much you feel about me or if it’s even that significant or just a passing attraction because either is possible and I’m really sorry if this made everything awkward-”

His ridiculously fast words were cut off by your newly-free hand clamping down over his mouth, plump lips tickling your skin as he stared at you, wide-eyed. You were sure if you tried this any other time he would (playfully) smack you, but he only stared.

“Really?” you whispered. To be completely honest, you never realistically considered a relationship, or even just a hook-up with Seokjin. You found him wholly and insanely attractive, but didn’t everyone? And it wasn’t that he was a vampire and you were a human – it was laughable to believe that you’d think that long-term anyway.

No, you just never saw him being that into you. He was almost ethereally beautiful, got along well with everyone, and had one of the most charming personalities you’d ever seen. His physique wasn’t even something that needed to be mentioned. With all that considered, all you ever cared to do was admire him from afar, content to have him as a close friend. It wasn’t as though he’d ever sent you hints that he wanted otherwise, either.

So to hear that your stupid little harmless crush could actually amount to anything?

You thought things couldn’t get any more unexpected.

When he nodded his confirmation, you couldn’t keep the grin from overtaking your face.

The giddiness clear on your face and the adorable sparkle in your eye sent unquantifiable relief through him, and the second you removed your hand, he opened his mouth to speak.

But somehow you were quicker than him, your lips meeting his before a single syllable could be uttered.

Unlike last night, you didn’t kiss him like you wanted to devour him, or like your body would light on fire if you couldn’t get as close as possible. This was calmer, slower, but it didn’t take long for that to change.

His fangs weren’t out this time, but that didn’t change the fact that you gasped as soon as his teeth dug into your bottom lip. Sparks shot up your spine at the sensation, your mind unable to stop thinking about what you felt the last time you were in this same position. How good it felt to be helpless to the pleasure battering down on you, held in place by strong hands and strong arms.

He’d probably ruined teeth for you for the rest of your life.

You let him do whatever he wanted, and he groaned into your mouth when you tangled your hands in his hair. Hands gripped your ass tightly and squeezed, pulling you in closer to him.

His hands didn’t even wander much further than that, but heat flared in your core regardless. When he raised his hips to brush the bulge in his pants against your aching centre, you could only moan and grind down onto him.

The pressure against your clit through the thin material of your shorts cut off every possible train of thought, and you were pretty sure that after all this, these panties would never recover.

You felt goosebumps raise on your flesh when a hand rose, nails scraping against your scalp. You arched your neck back ever-so-slightly, and Seokjin didn’t miss a beat in detaching from your lips to mouth at the skin above your collarbone instead.

He wasn’t gentle in the way he sucked bruises into your skin, a firm hand holding your head in place while the other held your thigh, his confined length rubbing languidly into your core. You whined and tightened your grip in his hair at the brush of teeth against skin, but much to your displeasure, he pulled away from you before clothes even started coming off.

“Wait.”

“Whyyyy?” you whined petulantly. Was he really going to do this to you again? You knew he was definitely in the right to stop things last night, but there was only so much you could take.

He bit back a smirk at your neediness, thumbing gently at your protruding bottom lip as he resisted the urge to tease you for your cuteness. This soft and pouty side of you was new to him, and he swore something fluttered in his chest.

“You should eat something, princess.”

“Huh?” you blinked, confused. You were about to protest when he spoke up again.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh... dinner last night? Maybe 7? 8?”

He leaned in toward you, but rather than kiss you again, he reached for the table behind you. You craned your neck to see what he was doing, and frowned when he grabbed for his phone. Your bewilderment at what he was doing didn’t last long, however, his phone screen displaying the time for you in large, white font.

5:32 pm.

“Holy shit, I slept for that long?” You stared at him wide-eyed. No wonder he took a shower and everything. You were surprised he was sat there waiting for you for all those hours without complaint.

He looked a bit sheepish, tossing his phone to the side and leaning back into the couch, tugging you with him comfortably. At this point the fire you felt had been dimmed, but that didn’t mean you weren’t still a bit irritated at being denied twice in a row.

“Ah, that would be my fault... the compulsion really gave you hell,” he winced, stroking gently at your cheek with the back of his fingers.

“It’s fine, I feel okay. Wasn’t that my fault anyway?” Your face felt hot thinking back to your behaviour and the lack of restraint you showed, hand rubbing nervously at the back of your neck.

“Of course not,” he assured quickly. “It’s not exactly something easy to resist. But if you regret it, I’m really sor-”

“I don’t regret it!” you cut him off, immediately wanting to pinch yourself for being so loud. And hasty. And embarrassing. And horny. “I’m... I’m happy right now.” Your volume seemed to die as confidence left you, but Seokjin only beamed.

“I’m happy too,” he said simply, tone laced with sincerity. “But you need to eat, I can practically hear your intestines screaming from here.”

“What?!” Strange tension successfully killed, your hands covered your abdomen instinctively as though you could shield yourself from his vampire ears. “Can you actually?”

He let you stare at him in alarm for only a few seconds before he couldn’t hold his giggles back anymore.

“Not really, but you should have seen your face. Why are you so worried about it?”

You huffed, shoulders deflating at his teasing. “I don’t know! That has to be a breach of privacy or something. Who gave you the right to listen to my intestines?”

“I can already hear your heart just fine, would it really matter so much?”

The smile dropped from his lips within a second, and the sudden intensity in his gaze had you frozen. The energy in the room shifted in an instant, and you were at a complete loss for words.

You thought he was going in for a kiss when he leaned closer, but instead his nose went to nuzzle at your neck, trailing up into your hairline. The warm air he exhaled into your ear made you shiver, pressing yourself ever so closer to his bare chest. You didn’t know how he managed to work you up within seconds, but you felt so hot despite his cool touch, baring your neck for him.

“I can hear the way your heart speeds up when I get close...” he whispered, mouthing lazily at your soft skin before sucking harshly. Unsure of what to do with yourself, your nails dug into his biceps, breath unsteady.

“I can hear the way the blood rushes through your veins, the sweetest thing I’ve ever tasted.” A hand rose to palm at your breast, bare beneath the worn cotton of your shirt. You arched your back as he harshly rolled a hard nipple between his fingers.

“I can hear the way you lose your breath, your tiny little gasps...” You couldn’t hide the way you twitched when sharp fangs scraped against your skin, a whimper nearly making its way from your throat. “Just like that.”

“And just so you know...” His voice was like honey, warm and smooth and sweet, and you hung onto his every word. “I can hear the way your stomach is growling right now too.”

The noise you let out that moment was inhumane, somewhere between a squeak and a scream of disbelief.

He broke away from you with a blaring laugh, shoulders bouncing beneath your grip.

You moved to slap at his chest, but your hand was caught easily, and his laughter only continued. God, you were going to kill this man. Again.

Your face felt obscenely hot, and you could feel a pout overtaking your lips at the sight of him still giggling away in front of you.

“Jinnie,” you whined, choosing to display your discontent by breaking free of his grip and hopping up out of his lap.

Which was definitely not the correct choice, because you swore you could feel the rush of blood through your ears before a strong sense of vertigo washed over you, groan escaping your lips. You were sure you would have fallen face first into the floor if not for Seokjin’s steadying.

“Woah, do you feel okay? This is why I told you to eat,” he sighed, maneuvering you to lay down comfortably on the couch, sticking pillows under your head. “Just stay here and I’ll make food, okay?”

“No, wait, I can make it-”

As you attempted to push back up off the couch, he only gently pushed down with a quiet ‘tsk’ and shake of his head. As you opened your mouth to further protest, he leaned in close, the softness of his lips brushing against the shell of your ear.

“Be a good girl and let me take care of you, hm?”

Your breath hitched at his sudden words, only able to stare wide-eyed when he pulled away from you enough to take in your face. The look in his eyes could only be described as devious – amused yet hardened, and you didn’t know if you were imagining the crimson bleeding into the brown of his irises.

“There goes that heartbeat again,” he murmured as though sharing a secret, the tender motion of his hand on your cheek in stark contrast to the want etched into his expression. “You’re going to be so much fun to ruin.”

--

For someone who didn’t really need to eat food to survive (though you’d been told time and time again that eating was fun), Seokjin made one hell of a good cook. Granted, egg fried rice wasn’t the most difficult nor time-consuming dish to make, but that didn’t make it any less tasty. In fact, you were grateful for such a simple and light dish, because you learned quite quickly that after an entire day without food, rushing to eat only brought nausea and discomfort.

Leaning against the armrest of the couch, the inside of your bowl was all you could see with how close you were holding it to your face. In your defence, though, you were greatly disinterested in the possibility of needing to clean a stain from your cushions.

As you took your time eating, Seokjin opted to tidy up a bit, dishes clanging in the kitchen before you heard him rearranging his shoes at the front door.

Thankfully, his efforts included removing the knife from your table and putting it god-knows-where, but you were just glad it was out of your line of sight. Maybe he thought that it was better for your appetite to remove the thing you’d literally pulled out of him.

You tried not to let your mind linger on just how... strange that felt.

He somehow managed to clean up before you’d even finished eating, the couch dipping beside you as he settled into his spot. Vampire speed truly was startling.

If you didn’t have your entire field of vision blocked, you might have noticed Seokjin’s fond look as you ate your meal at what could only be described as a forced snail’s pace. He had to suppress a chuckle at how antsy you seemed to be, clearly wanting to just shovel food into your mouth, but knowing you would only suffer for it. How did one person manage to be so cute and yet so seductive?

When you were done, you set the bowl down on the table with a satisfied sigh, jumping in surprise when a glass of water was placed into your newly-emptied hands almost immediately.

“Thanks,” you smiled shyly, face feeling hot at his attentiveness. You didn’t know how to react at having a man like Kim Seokjin doting on you. It was almost – no, it was – unbelievable, and your poor heart didn’t know how to act. It was one thing to have him kiss you like he was going to devour you, and another to be this sweet and this caring and this soft.

Setting the empty glass next to your empty bowl, you leaned back, unsure of what to do with yourself now that you were entirely unoccupied. Seokjin’s presence beside you made you increasingly aware of the awkward shifting of your hands and your uneasy breathing. He wasn’t that close to you and yet you could smell him – you didn’t know how he managed to make your floral scented shampoo smell sexy.

“Why are you so nervous?” he said lowly, nudging you into his side and tossing an arm around your shoulders. It was a simple move, and yet all you could think was how big he was, how easily he completely enveloped you in his hold.

“I-I’m not nervous,” you stuttered, and you could feel the blood rush to your face. You wondered if he could hear that, too.

A hand lifted your face in his direction, and you were met with an expression that very clearly read ‘are you really going to try lying to a vampire?’

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” you amended, biting into your lower lip. His gaze followed the motion, eyes clouding over.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked softly, his thumb raising to release your lip from your teeth, the movement intimate enough to set your stomach aflutter.

“Are we asking that now?” you responded smartly, grinning when Seokjin only huffed a laugh.

“Let me be clearer then,” he said lowly, the abrupt commanding tone having you sit up straighter. “Can I kiss you, strip you, take you to bed, taste that sweet pussy on my tongue, and then fuck you?”

Heat flared in you at the words, your fingernails scratching against his chest before remembering he wasn’t wearing a shirt for you to yank him closer. You settled for making a beeline for his mouth, but a quick movement to grip your hair at the scalp kept you from getting close enough.

“Ah, ah,” he tutted, holding you still as he nuzzled his nose against your neck, humming in content when he brushed right against the spot he bit you yesterday. “Tell me yes or no, princess.”

You nodded with what freedom you had left – not much, with how tight his hold on you was, tiny pricks of pain sending sparks up and down your spine. His other hand pulled you closer to him, your hips halfway straddling him as he mouthed at your neck, acting as though he hadn’t noticed your response. It was clear that he was waiting for you to say something.

“Yes,” you said quietly, nearly forgetting what the question was from the way he was sucking softly at your neck. At the scrape of fangs against your skin, you only pushed back against the hand in your hair, exposing more of your neck with a soft sigh.

“You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?” he taunted, pulling you fully on top of him, his hard cock right against your core, and you wished that clothing wasn’t separating you.

He pressed those fangs against the soft skin below your ear, hard enough that the pain had you wincing, but not enough to break skin.

He was teasing you, and you were putty in his hands.

“I can’t stop thinking about it either,” he breathed, tonguing lazily over the stinging marks he left behind. You could only whimper and squirm in his hold, hands tangling in his silken hair. You didn’t know whether you wanted to pull him away or push him closer.

“To have you moaning in rapture right in my lap, so desperate for my cock, the taste of you on my lips...” His voice was so low you could barely hear it, barely process it, but the absolutely lust in his voice only spurred new waves of arousal in you. “Hearing you beg like that, fuck-”

He cut himself off with a sinful moan as he shifted his hips to rub himself right against your cunt, and you shuddered in response.

“I don’t think I’ve ever wanted anyone so bad,” he sighed, breathing unsteady as he used his grip on you to rock you in time to his movements. “I’ve never had such a test of self-control. Maybe I should punish you.”

This voice was teasing, but your reaction was real, and there was no way to hide the way a moan escaped or the way your nails dug crescents into Seokjin’s smooth skin.

“Oh, you like that, do you?” he chuckled darkly as he leaned his head back into the couch, the grip in your hair tightening even more. A helpless whine left your lips, and you became uncomfortably aware of the way your panties were sticking to your folds.

“Tell me, do you think I should punish you?” he asked, his honeyed voice lulling you into a state you couldn’t even begin to explain with words.

You tried nodding again, hissing at the flash of pain when you tried move your head from his grip.

“Princess, haven’t you learned to use your words? I think I’ll bend you over my knee right here. What do you think about that?”

“Please,” you gasped without hesitation, freezing when you fluttered your eyelids open to meet his gaze.

If you weren’t sure whether his eyes were laced with red before, it was evident now. It only made him all the more enticing, and your vision fell down to his mouth instinctively when he ran his tongue over his teeth. A pang of heat went through you when his fangs bit into his lip, and before you were thinking about it, a hand rose to brush against his mouth.

Your thumb grazed a fang almost reverently, and Seokjin only watched on fondly at the wonderment on your face. You supposed it might have been strange to touch your friend’s – boyfriend’s? – teeth like this, but you had always been curious. Hell, you hadn’t even seen fangs in person before last night. As far as you knew, they only extended when feeding or when feeling strong emotions, and neither tended to be something you could casually see on the street.

You bit at your lip when sharpness pushed into the pad of your finger, but his next words broke you free of your reverie.

“Bend over then.”

He released you from his grip dizzyingly fast, leaning back to watch you.

You were surprised at yourself with how quickly you situated your ass over his lap, the self-consciousness you would’ve expected to be feeling wholly absent. Seokjin was just that captivating.

You wiggled your way into a comfortable position, sticking a cushion under your head. Now that your ass was sticking out right into his view, you felt more vulnerable than ever, knowing that his eyes and ears were trained on your every movement and reaction.

Hands pushed your long shirt up over your hips, fingers trailing lightly over the globes of your ass, separated only by the thin fabric of your shorts. But not for long.

Fingers reached under your waistband and tugged down before you could react, yanking your shorts and panties down in one go.

With air suddenly hitting your sodden pussy, you could feel heat rise to your face at how exposed you found yourself. But any thought of shifting and hiding was erased when you heard Seokjin’s loud groan.

“Shit, you’re soaked, smell so fucking good,” he hissed, fingers reaching to push messily through your folds.

You couldn’t see him putting his fingers in his mouth, but the depraved moan he let out afterward had you squirming in his lap.

After your shorts and panties were pushed onto the floor, a large hand ran tenderly over the skin of your ass, fingers digging in slightly.

“Is ten on each side too much for you?” he asked. There was no hint of teasing in his tone, his voice firm. He continued his soft stroking as he waiting for an answer.

“Uhh... I don’t really know?” you responded meekly. Sure, you had been spanked before, but it was never this... structured? To be honest, you didn’t really know what “a lot” would be in terms of numbers.

“It’s okay,” he soothed. “We’ll work our way up and see how it feels. Is that okay?”

You nodded at first, but quickly let out an ‘okay’ when you remembered how firm he was on a proper response.

“This means I’m trusting you to be honest and tell me to stop if it’s too much. I want you to feel good.”

“Okay.”

You released tension you didn’t realize you’d had at his reassurances, allowing your limbs to loosen as you adjusted to lay more comfortably. The sensation of his hands on you made you feel safe and secure, and you knew for a fact that for all his hard words and cold stares, he was still always searching for your approval.

You twitched in surprise as a few light swats came down on each cheek, almost as though he was testing the motion. But after being briefly taken off guard, you relaxed under his hands, body already warming up at each light blow. You barely felt anything aside from a faint sting, but you could already feel your cunt throbbing, anticipation having you dig your nails into the cushion beneath you.

But even despite his preparation, the first real blow had you gasping. Not because it was overly painful – in fact, those pinpricks of pain were laced with pleasure, radiating outward from where his palm had firmly struck you. No, it was more that with the control and precision he showed, another realization struck you at that moment.

He really knew what he was doing.

This wasn’t just a college boyfriend who wanted to experiment with things he saw in porn, or a random bar hookup who thought he was more than he was.

No, Seokjin was the epitome of calculated control, had you eating out of the palm of his hand with one simple word. One look and you were his.

And fuck, if that didn’t make you melt.

You sighed happily as a hit came down on your other asscheek, another wave of arousal soaking your cunt.

“Do you want it harder?” he asked, voice low. The tone felt almost like a personal attack, honeyed words piercing your eardrums.

“Okay,” you whispered.

“Yes or no. Don’t just agree to do things because I suggest it,” he scolded, punishing you with a swat to your upper thigh that stung sharper than his previous blows.

“Yes, I want it.”

“Hm,” he hummed, nails scratching over your skin, just barely missing the heat of your core. “I think I would be more convinced if you begged.”

As much as most of your embarrassment had already faded, what with being bent over Seokjin’s lap, it took so much more to put your desires verbally out into the world. But the throbbing in your cunt was fierce, and the warmth from his previous strikes was already fading. And you wanted more.

“Please,” you whined weakly before taking a deep breath to amp yourself up. “Please, Jinnie, I want it harder.”

You barely had time to process the tiny chuckle he let out before his palm came down on you again, the additional force behind it making you shiver despite the warmth that spread through you.

You didn’t know exactly how many more times his hand struck your ass, but your quiet moans were interrupted by his voice once again.

“Harder?”

As much as you felt good, it still wasn’t enough. The sting wasn’t enough, the heat wasn’t enough. You wanted more, needed more.

“Yes, please.”

“Mm, there you go. Maybe I should do this more often if you’re going to be such a good girl for me after.”

He punctuated his statement with a harsh blow to your ass, the strength of it forcing a moan from your lungs. A hand stroked tenderly over where it had struck, before doing the same to the other cheek. You whimpered as you felt another gush of wetness spill from your cunt, squirming as another strike rained down.

Yes, this is what you wanted.

The feeling was heady, your mouth open and allowing all the sounds to spill from your lips. Every cell in your body felt hot, from your fingertips down to your toes. You were certain you must have been making a mess of his lap with how wet you were.

You didn’t realize how heavily you were breathing until the smacks stopped, fingers gently kneading at the raw skin instead. Your skin felt almost burned, but more than anything, you needed those hands to slip between your legs. Now that there was nothing else to distract you, your neglected pussy was desperate for something, anything.

“How are you?” he asked several moments later.

His continued soothing touch dampened the fire of your skin before long, but that only furthered your arousal, shifting in his lap in search of some relief. You itched for some pressure on your clit, but it wasn’t possible in the position he had you in.

“Good,” you breathed, pressing back into his touch.

“Good.” He let his fingers creep ever-so-closer to where you needed him most, rubbing against where your wetness had spread, just beside your outer folds. “I think you deserve a reward. What do you think?”

“Please,” you whined immediately, but luckily, he didn’t seem interested in making you wait any longer. Maybe it was the fact that he had been waiting just as long, or that he was just tired of your constant fidgeting in his lap.

A finger slid in without resistant – unsurprisingly, what with the way you could feel the air hitting your slick skin. Your walls clamped down on the intrusion immediately, and another finger slid down to rub tiny circles onto your clit.

You whined in relief, but Seokjin unfortunately held you down to keep you from thrusting back onto his hand.

“So fucking wet,” he murmured, slipping another finger in when he felt how easily you took the first.

As much as one didn’t feel like enough, two of his fingers was so much bigger than your own. The stretch had you gasping, the friction against your walls and clit making you moan out.

As he scissored his fingers inside of you, the slight burn had you hissing, though the constant ministrations on your clit made sure the pain never became your focus.

“Mm, are you sure you can take my cock?” he mused, smirking at the way you were already whimpering, increasing the pace of his thrusts as your moans got more frequent.

“I can!” you blurted out, sounding almost offended. He had to stifle a laugh. You had always been fun to rile up, and sex was no exception.

“Hm, okay,” he hummed, amusement colouring his tone. You almost called him out on it before his fingers pulled out of you abruptly.

“Jin-”

Before you could question him, beg him to come back, hold him against you – three fingers started easing their way inside of you.

You tensed up almost immediately at the harsher burn at your entrance, the stiffness of your body not doing you much of a favour. He paused all movement at your struggle.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you, okay?”

His words had you feeling more at ease, a reminder that he was here, he wanted you to feel good, and he only kept on making that fact clear.

You made a noise of agreement, forcing your muscles to relax despite how much they wanted to clamp down. You wanted his cock, after all. You could take his fingers.

He took his time with you, slowly easing his fingers in and scissoring them apart, all the while his other hand resting beneath your abdomen, rubbing into your clit. You keened under his continuous murmured praise, moaning as he began to thrust his fingers.

“That’s it,” he whispered, his own breaths beginning to get heavy as he watched you twitch and whine at his hand.

Once the discomfort passed, your pleasure crested ridiculously fast with how long you’ve been waiting to be touched, filled. He stretched you open so wide, and you clenched around his digits at the thought of those fingers being his cock instead.

You were easily giving yourself away with how your walls were clamping down more and more, heavier gasps leaving you. The stroking at your clit wasn’t getting any slower, and soon enough you felt like you were going to snap.

“Gonna come all over my fingers, princess?” he asked roughly, his voice showing an uncharacteristic lack of control as he spread his fingers wide again.

“Please,” you said feebly, all other words having left your available vocabulary long ago. “Please.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll give it to you, baby.” The crook of his fingers took you by surprise, and with one, two, strokes against that spongy spot within you, you were gone.

Your orgasm stole the breath from your lungs, your legs going weak as waves of bliss hit you everywhere at once. His hands on you didn’t stop their motions, only sending new waves up your spine, shivers wracking your body as you grasped the closest object tightly – your nails digging into the cushion beneath you.

He only stopped when you started to squirm away as pain took over the pleasure, a whimper escaping as his fingers were removed.

If you thought you were getting a moment to breathe, you were wrong.

“Fuck, you’re going to be the death of me,” he growled.

Before you could blink, you were on your back, his lips attacking yours in a frenzy.

The grip he had on your thigh was sure to bruise, his still-clothed cock rocking into your sensitive pussy as he consumed your every thought, every desire.

You could taste yourself on his tongue, the realization only building the fire that had already been relit within you.

You allowed him to pull the shirt from your body, your skin left completely bare beneath his.

His gaze was somewhere between reverent and demonic, and he looked almost ready to pounce back on you before he paused.

“Bed?” His voice sounded strained, and you thought briefly back to what he said about how much self-control the past day has required from him. You glanced down at the bulge in his pants, and you had to keep yourself from grabbing at it, eager to give him his pleasure the same way he’d done for you.

“Okay.”

You didn’t think your lips formed the second syllable before you were being scooped up, your arms looping around his neck to steady yourself from the abrupt movement.

The walk to the bedroom was somewhat of a blur, your stomach lurching at the speed with which he moved. You’d known the man was quick, but experiencing it firsthand was partly unsettling, and partly... strangely sexy.

Your back hit the sheets with unexpected force, your body bouncing back up from the impact. You’d never considered strength to be such a significant turn-on, but combined with everything else about him, it seemed to make Seokjin the most dangerously attractive man you’ve ever encountered.

You thought you were about to get fucked into the mattress – the hunger in Seokjin’s stare only cementing the thought – but it seemed that he had other ideas.

“Jin-”

You were about to beg him to touch you, fuck you, do literally anything – when his hands wrapped around your ankles, spreading your legs apart enough that you could begin to feel the strain in your thighs.

The way he was gazing at your fully exposed core almost made you self-conscious before you took in the way his breathing was heavier than you’d ever seen it, the crimson completely having taken over the brown of his irises.

“I have – I have to taste you,” he groaned.

He sprung on you in an instant, plush lips wrapping around your clit and sucking before his tongue moved down to lap at your arousal.

While you were still a bit sensitive from your last orgasm, the discomfort was nothing in comparison to the bliss lighting up your nerves. You were a slave to pleasure under his tongue, hands holding you down as you attempted to buck up into him instinctively.

His tongue attacked you like a man starved, his unabashed moans into your heat leaving you gasping.

But as much as he was successfully making you lose your mind, you didn’t want to cum like this.

“Jin, fuck-” you whimpered, body aching to grind up into his face despite your next words.

He only hummed into your pussy at your noises, motions not pausing whatsoever.

“Fuck me, please,” you begged, a hand winding into his hair in an attempt to pull him off you.

You almost thought he was pretending not to hear you when he didn’t react straightaway, but not long after, he pulled off of you.

He didn’t even say a word in response, only shucking off his pants and boxers with a heaving chest.

You swore your pussy throbbed when you saw his cock, only moreso when he fisted it with a hiss, lips that were glistening with your arousal widening to reveal sharp white fangs.

“I have to be inside you right fucking now,” he snarled, dragging your body down by the thighs to meet him where he knelt.

You felt almost feverish, your hands reaching to yank Seokjin by the shoulders, the need to be closer taking over your every thought.

He kissed you frantically as the head of his cock rubbed against your clit, your back arching up into him, his closeness still not close enough for you.

You were so close to pleading with him not to draw this out, but he settled himself against your entrance, his other arm supporting himself by your head. When he started to push in, you could only whimper.

You knew he was big when he grasped himself in his hand only moments before, but for all his preparation, it felt like you were being split open.

You clung onto his biceps as he rocked himself forward at a snail’s pace, nails digging into his skin as you clamped down on him reflexively. It burned, but you wanted it so bad. As much as the discomfort was intense, you could feel yourself getting wetter by the second, unable to stop panting into Seokjin’s mouth.

You whined as he nibbled at your bottom lip, one of his hands rubbing soothing circles into your thigh, the other in your hair. But when you felt fangs puncture your lip ever-so-slightly before he sucked it into his mouth, all breath was stolen from you.

It was only the smallest fraction of the pleasure you felt the night before, but that was enough to have your head thrown back, hips raising to meet Seokjin’s.

It almost seemed that he wasn’t expecting you to thrust upward onto him, a strangled groan leaving his throat as you shoved more of him inside you.

The stretch remained overwhelming, but the pain felt like a distant memory, new arousal making the glide smoother.

“Good?” he gasped against your collarbone, hot breaths hitting your skin as his hair brushed against your face. The arm holding him up was trembling at your side, the fingers on your thigh tightening their hold as if to physically hold himself together.

Part of you just wanted him to lose control.

“So good,” you moaned, shoving your hips up again, volume increasing exponentially when he allowed you to push him in to the hilt.

“Fuck,” he growled, arm moving to form a bruising grip on your other thigh, his chest moving away from yours. “Are you that desperate for it?”

The question was accompanied by a sharp snap of his hips that sent you reeling, too breathless for any sound to escape.

He spread your thighs apart even further, a hand beneath your left knee lifting your leg towards his chest.

The next quick thrust hit you even harder at that angle, a choked-out whine escaping you. Your fingers dug into the sheets as he ground himself into you, your pussy feeling split so overwhelmingly wide.

You were wound up so tight, you thought you were going to go crazy. It was impossible to think straight when he only did quick snaps of his hips at random intervals. You didn’t think you’d ever been hornier than this moment, and you swore you could feel the arousal leaking from your cunt.

You could see sparks of light behind your eyelids with how tightly you had them shut. You bit down hard on your bottom lip, the flesh still tender from Seokjin’s bite.

His thrusts became slow and deep, tiny gasps leaving your open mouth.

“Look at me,” he snarled suddenly, the sheer command in his voice sending shivers up your spine, gaze snapping onto him immediately. It took a moment for your vision to focus properly, still drowning in the sensation of his cock still moving within you.

If you thought he looked fierce, hungry, dangerous – you were his polar opposite.

To put it simply, you were a mess.

You were too lost in it all to notice the stutter in his hips when he locked eyes with you, but he almost stopped breathing entirely.

Your eyes were glazed over in pleasure, the tears just beginning to gather there only making their colour all the more enticing. Your expression was slack, and it looked like you couldn’t decide between clamping down on your bottom lip or leaving your mouth wide-open. You looked so vulnerable, so willing to put all of your trust in him to take care of you, make you feel good.

And fuck, if it wasn’t the most beautiful sight he’d ever seen.

His movements after that caught you off guard, his abrupt rough thrusting engulfing your body in flames of bliss, loud moan leaving you. As much as holding his gaze made everything feel so much more intense, you just couldn’t. Your head fell back onto the pillow, back arching as much as he would allow you to move in his tight hold.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his voice sounding almost helpless and he continued his movements, his arms the only thing keeping you from shifting up the mattress. As his gasps transitioned to groans and then loud moaning, you could feel yourself nearing your peak again.

He slowed his movements, the heavy panting reaching your eardrums and having you clench around him instinctively. The choked-out groan in response told you he was close, too.

“Jin,” you called out, the word so breathy that you almost didn’t recognize it despite it coming from your own lips.

You raised an arm to weakly grab at his body, hoping he got the message himself. You wanted him close, but highly doubted that you could manage to form the words right now.

Luckily, he seemed to know exactly what you wanted, dropping your leg and moving to hover over you, your breasts brushing his chest. He started thrusting slowly again, his head dropping to your collarbone as a hand wound into the hair at your scalp.

With him right on top of you, his pubic bone was brushing against your clit, the added stimulation having you whine loudly and dig your nails harshly into the skin of his back.

He didn’t seem to mind, a loud groan leaving him as he started mouthing at your neck, sucking bruises into the flesh.

But when you felt fangs briefly scrape over your skin, only one thought came to mind and refused to leave.

You wanted it, wanted his fangs to sink into you, wanted to feel that again. Now.

“Bite me,” you whimpered, pushing your head into the pillow and arching your back, eager to give him free reign as your orgasm inched closer and closer.

You expected him to protest, expected him to deny you, expected him to pull away.

But he did none of those things.

Instead, fangs sunk deeply into your neck with a feral growl, almost as soon as he heard the words leave your lips.

That same immense burst of pain rendered you motionless for a split second before that all-consuming euphoria descended on you.

You vaguely registered Seokjin moaning loudly above you as his hips stuttered, his lips locked on your neck. But you felt almost disconnected from the world, as though every nerve in your body was firing, your cunt pulsating around him as you reached the strongest high you’d ever felt.

It felt almost instinctual to grip at his back tightly, pulling him close, as if he’d ever want to leave. You didn’t even realize how loud you were being, your peak only going higher and higher, to the point of being overwhelming.

Tears streamed from where your eyes were clamped shut, moans turning into sobs as Seokjin ground against your overstimulated clit, your pussy clenched around him tightly.

You were so far gone you didn’t even notice the warmth spilling into you as he groaned loudly into your skin, his movements slowing before he pulled his mouth from you.

The crash was almost immediate, exhaustion and soreness taking over your limbs as you gasped for breath, the hands on Seokjin’s back falling limp. It felt like all the strength was sapped from your body, your consciousness half-absent.

You thought you heard Seokjin fussing over you, his hands wiping tears from your face, but to be honest, it was all a blur. He disconnected with you easily despite your mumbled protests, dropping a kiss on your forehead with a soft command not to move. You didn’t think you were capable of such a thing anyway.

You hardly registered his absence before he was back with a wet cloth. You didn’t know if that was because of his speed or because you were too tired to pay attention.

The next thing you knew, he had rolled you to lay on top of him, your face tucked into his neck as he stroked at your back. Normally, you might have complained about how much colder he was than you, but your skin was still so heated that the coolness was a relief.

You could tell that he was saying something quietly, unsure whether he was asking you something or not. His voice only brought you warm comfort, your arm moving to wrap around his waist.

You honestly weren’t too sure how long you laid there until your senses started coming back to you, but the hand on your back never stopped its soothing motions. The realization made you strangely embarrassed, wondering how long you’ve been out of it.

“Did I fall asleep?” you mumbled, nuzzling into the softness of Seokjin’s neck.

“Not really, it hasn’t been too long,” he responded, though the way he paused made it seem that he had more to say. It took a few moments before he got the words out. “Did I go too hard? Was it too much?”

Despite the low volume of his voice, he sounded almost frantic, and your brows furrowed. Why was he so worried?

“Of course not. I asked you for it, I knew exactly what I was getting into.”

He sighed heavily, his hands on you pausing. “I know, I just – I got worried when you were barely responding to me. I guess I was just afraid that you would be scared of me after.”

You felt a tinge of guilt at his concern, but logically it was nobody’s fault. As much as you wanted to take his face in your hands and tell him that you don’t regret anything and there wasn’t a world where you could ever be scared of him, you doubted your ability to do so right now. Instead, you hoped that simple reassurance could be enough.

“I loved it,” you said plainly, sleepiness clear in your voice. You were fighting past the fog in your brain to talk to him, wanting to make sure he knew where you stood.

“I loved it too,” he whispered before bringing up the blanket to cover both of you. “You sound tired. Why don’t we sleep?”

“Wait.”

“Hm?” he hummed in response, his confused expression hid from your view.

“Are you my boyfriend?” Your words sounded almost slurred with how close you were to unconsciousness, but his chest bouncing as he chuckled told you that he heard you just fine.

You were dangerously close to dreamland, but you caught his answer right before you fell asleep in his arms.

“Yeah, I’m your boyfriend.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Life Goes On

This if for @buckybarnesplumwhore​

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; grieving, funeral, breeding, handcuffs, warnings are not exhaustive so read at your own discretion.

This is dark! Andy Barber x reader and explicit. 18+ only.  Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: You volunteer at the local youth center but when one of the kids meets an unfortunate end, you cross paths with his father. No stranger to grief, you try to help him cope but find it a bigger than task that you expected.

Note: When I started writing, I had no plan. When I kept writing, there was still no plan. And then it just all kinda happened.

Thanks to everyone for sticking around and putting up with me and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya!

It was too sunny for a funeral. A funeral come too soon.

The service was held out in the sun, rows of wooden chairs and a sombre old priest. You never knew if the Barbers were religious but it was easy to find a holy man in Massachusetts, as easy as those early years of settlement found in textbooks. 

There were no flowers, only two oblong caskets shrouded in black cloth, the name of each of the dead on silver placards, no pictures, no souvenir of who they were.

It was like Andy was already trying to forget them. He was at the front, the grieving widower and father. You were lost somewhere in the middle with his co-workers, there out of propriety more than empathy, and distant relatives who attended out of courtesy, some passing acquaintances who followed the story in the papers more than out of compassion. It was a spectacle and Andy had done his best from feeding the leering onlookers.

You knew Jacob more than his parents. He was younger than you, almost ten years apart. You knew him from the youth group you volunteered for, the same one you'd been in at his age. He was out of place there, he was from a better neighbourhood than the other kids, they called him the rich brat, and he resented himself more for it than he did them.

His attendance kept his mother happy. He didn't like the individual counseling, he didn't talk, so she put him in the group and he talked there. Sometimes. The kids never went on philosophical monologues but they understood each other and shared what they needed to.

Laurie was always late to pick him up. So he stayed to help stack the chairs and you ended up waiting with him, making sure he wasn't alone in the dark. He hated that at first too, until he realised you weren't on the stoop to council or judge. You were just two people, chatting to pass the time.

Sometimes Andy picked him up. He was friendlier than Laurie. Jacob's mother was always in a rush, even on her way home where there was no deadline. She said thanks, maybe, and drove off as she began to lecture Jacob about how he wore his hat. Andy offered you a ride, every time, as if he had some compulsion to be the good guy, the saviour. You always said no, the bus was a five minute ride to your building, fifteen minutes if you walked.

Now Jacob was dead, his mother too. Another tragedy inflicted upon those least likely. Even death didn't stop the whispers, even that venue, the priest's collar, the Biblical dirges, the grim family man in black did not silence them. It sickened you as the service ended and the people rose in a hushed murmur.

Andy left without talking to anyone. The procession of cars would drive through the streets with flags to mark the grieving on their way to the interment. It was as if Andy was doing what was expected more than what he felt he owed the deceased. He was ever the lawyer, formal and curt.

You followed the grey parade. Not out of obligation but out of genuine regret. Jacob seemed like a lost kid, even in death. The rumours, the accusations, the suspicion, followed him. The people didn't watch the dirt fall from the shovel to see him at peace, they watched it as some grand finale to the great show of the Barbers.

When the metal no longer cut and scattered the soil, the crowd thinned out. You stayed as the diggers packed up. You were sad for Jacob, for Laurie. Andy hadn't been there to see the burial. You couldn't blame him but you were surprised. He just disappeared after the service, apparently done with his part in the play. 

You went closer and stared at the new stone that stretched above both plots. Laurie Barber… and her son, Jacob Barber. May they rest. It was as short, as minimal as anything else about the affair. You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand. You didn't know if Jacob was a bad seed, it wasn't your job to make that call, but he had just been a kid and all that potential was now six feet down.

"Didn't think anyone would stick around," the dark figure stepped up beside you, his steps muted by the grass, "least of all, you."

"I'm sorry, I…" you looked at Andy and then the dirt, "I'll go."

"Wait," he said before you could move, "I thought-- I thought I wanted to be alone for this…" he shoved his hand in his pocket, "but I've been alone since it happened and I'm realising, I'm gonna be alone from here on out."

You didn't say a word. You didn't know what you could say. He'd heard a hundred apologies, a hundred condolences.

"I'm happy someone stayed, that someone cared," he cleared his throat, "thank you."

You nodded and played with the buttons on your cardigan.

"He was too. Happy, you know, that someone cared. I think back now and I realise that you probably saw him more than me. He was always excited to go to the centre but he got in that car and he just… deflated." He shook his head, "maybe this is better. One way or the other, he wanted to get away from me but he never could get away from Laurie. She wouldn't let him go."

He chuckled sardonically but it quickly fizzled in his throat.

"Sorry, I'm rambling…"

"You're processing," you said, "a lot of the kids down at the centre, they lost parents, one way or the other, orphans, fosters… I always told them that they didn't have to make sense because grief never really does."

"Now that makes a lot of sense," he said, "but you shouldn't have to listen to me."

"I shouldn't or you don't think you should say any of it?"

"Hmmm," he hummed, "yeah, maybe."

"I don't get paid to listen to those kids, I just get a time and a place to do so. This isn't different. It's just talking and a lot of that is just figuring things out. Listening is easy, you're doing the hard part."

"Jeez, you come up with this stuff on your own or is there some sort of how-to book?"

You lifted your chin and sucked in your lip. You could tell where Jacob got the bite from.

"Sorry, that was… mean," he said after the silence settled with the dirt, "can I ask you something?"

"Sure," you said.

"You got somewhere to be?"

"No…" you answered cautiously.

"Do you think you might wanna listen to me a little more? I'll buy you a coffee for the trouble."

"You wanna talk? To me?"

"Better than anyone I do know," he snorted, "they all just give me that dumb look. They pity me, judge me. You don't have to say yes but I started now, if I stop, I'll...stop."

"Coffee?" You glanced over at him, "I'd rather tea."

"I'm sure they got that too," he fiddled with the trim of his pocket, "anytime you wanna bail, let me know."

"If I can handle teen angst, I think I can handle you."

🖤

That afternoon wasted away in the corner of a café. It felt like any other day but for Andy, you knew, it was likely the worst day of his life. Likely a day he wouldn’t forget. You sat patiently until the last of your tea was cold. He didn’t finish his coffee, he hardly even touched it. When you checked the time, he looked down embarrassed.

“It’s late,” he said, “I… I’m sorry for keeping you so long.”

“I didn’t have anything to do. I doubt you did either,” you swept up the paper cup and your purse.

“No, really, I mean, you don’t know me. You knew Jacob and I just sat here and talked your ear off for hours. I--” he looked out the window, “I know that when I go home, the house will still be empty. That’s why I’m here.”

You looked past him as he turned back. You chewed your lip, “Andy, have you looked into counseling yet?”

“It feels… too early for that.”

“Too early?”

“I don’t want to let it go. Don’t want to let them go,” he sucked his hands in his pockets, “if I go, that’s what they’ll tell me to do.”

“No, they’d help you live with it, not forget it,” you said, “but I know, it’s scary. Have you done anything? Read anything?”

“Read?”

“Self-help isn’t for everyone and those dummy books aren’t great I admit, but sometimes a start is better than nothing. What about… a routine? Do you have one?”

“I work, I come home, I sleep, and try not to notice they’re gone,” he shrugged, “and repeat. Lot of overtime.”

“You’re still working?” you went to the door and he followed.

“Well, I talked to you. That’s what I’m going to do about it.”

You stepped out into the evening din and spun to look at him. You crossed your arms and stood across from him on the pavement.

“Well, unfortunately there’s an age limit down at the centre,” you said, “but I could give you a number for an adult group.”

“No, I don’t wanna talk to a group of sad parents and widowers. Just remind me how pathetic I really am,” he scoffed.

“Do you think that what you’re doing right now is better?”

“Do you have a degree in this?” he wondered, “what are you doing down at that youth centre talking to degenerates?”

“I have a certificate that says I’m good at listening, but no, I couldn’t afford a degree,” you dropped your arms, “but, will you come down? Sit in on a session. Just listen… for Jacob? It helped him, I think, after a while?”

“With the kids?”

“Yeah, with the kids,” you said, “maybe it will help you decide.”

“Decide what?”

“If you’re going to keep doing what you're doing; nothing, or if you’re going to try. Trust me, after a while, just sitting there, ignoring it, it gets old and it won’t get better.”

He looked down and stared at his leather shoe as he ground his toe into the pavement, “is that allowed? Am I allowed to do that?”

“I don’t see why not. I have parents sit in all the time.”

“But I’m not-- not anymore,” he gulped.

“You are,” you patted his arm gently, “you always will be.”

“What time?” he raised his head.

“Tuesdays and Thursdays at four-thirty. We do accept late arrivals. Kids come in and out. Usually hang out til seven before I let them go.”

“I think I can make that work,” he exhaled deeply, “thank you.”

“For what?”

“For putting up with me.”

You nodded and gave a bittersweet smile, “I miss Jacob too. I might be little more than a glorified babysitter but it means something to me. The kids… they feel like they’re mine sometimes. At least on those two nights a week.”

“Well…” he peered down the street, “you need a ride?”

You chuckled quietly, “you now, I think this time, I do.”

🖤

Andy was early. He took a chair near the wall as the kids flopped on the low sofas and into the colourful armchairs. A government grant had seen an upgrade in the lounge, although the kitchen needed some work as the cooking classes were still short on supplies. Dark circles darkened his eyes and the hairline wrinkles around them added to the hollow effect. He wasn’t sleeping.

You waited for the room to quiet. You greeted the kids and went through the usual ice breaker; one bad thing, one good thing, and one way they could improve the bad. Many of them were reluctant at first, they resisted what they thought were cheesy and inane exercises but they all came around. They were able to voice things that otherwise would be kept to themselves and they were afforded a respectful and often rapt audience.

When you finished, you kept from naming your own three. You looked at Andy.

“I’m sorry, everyone, I’m so forgetful. This is Andy,” you gestured to him, “he’s sitting in with us today. Andy, why don’t you tell us your bad thing, your good thing, and one thing you can do to improve the bad.”

He looked startled but he stood and cleared his throat. He glanced around at the kids and the shadow left his face. “Well, I lost a file, there were free bagels at work, and… I guess I could try to look again tomorrow.”

“Very good,” you smiled, “alright, my turn at last. My bad thing is I spilled tea on my shirt, my good thing is it’s a dark shirt, and my thing to improve is… wear a bib.” You laughed as you audience stay stone faced, “alright, alright, I’ll just be more careful and not run with hot liquids.”

You sat and started with Danica. She was always the most talkative, that encouraged the other kids. Today was no exception and you had to remind her to save some time for everyone else. Erik was next, then Andre, and Shamea. You almost didn’t notice Andy as he stood and sidled against the wall. Not until he was at the door, he looked back darkly and you saw his chest fall heavily. His nostrils flared and he was gone.

You tried not to show your disappointment, tried not to let the kids notice. They were all caught up in the circle and breaking it was never good. Shamea passed the stuffed bunny to Naima and you focused on her. Maybe it was too soon for Andy, you understood that, but you hoped too that he might have found a piece of Jacob there.

Before the kids left, you handed out the coloured markers and they each scribbled down a few words before a high-five. They passed through the open door in pairs and singles, and you bent to add your own note. You tucked the card into your bag and locked up. Jacob was usually the only one to hang around. Not anymore.

You headed out the front door with a wave to Martha at the front desk and took a gulp of the fresh evening air. There was someone sat on the flat stone at the bottom of the broad rail of the stairs. You recognised Andy as you neared, much too big to be a teen.

“I’m sorry,” he dabbed his nose with his sleeve, “I couldn’t… I couldn’t stay in that room.”

“But you’re still here,” you said.

“I didn’t wanna just leave you hanging but… they all remind me of him,” he stood, “I’m sorry.”

“No more apologies,” you opened your purse and searched, “I had the kids put this together. Actually, it was Milo’s idea. He didn’t know it was you but he wanted to send it in the mail--”

“What?” he took the card and opened it. He turned so he could read it in the yellow light of the street lamp, “oh my god.”

“Is it too much?”

“No, no,” he ran his thumb over the ink, “it’s…” he closed it and tucked it into his jacket, “the only other thing I’ve got is the bill for the caskets. It’s… amazing. Thank you.”

“Not at all. They always surprise me,” you said, “most of the time, in good ways.”

“You need a ride?” he checked his watch.

“I don’t live far,” you waved him off, “but I always appreciate the offer.”

He nodded and frowned, “and if… if I didn’t want to be alone? Would you grab a burger with me? Have you eaten?”

“Not since lunch, I, uh… I guess it couldn’t hurt,” you said.

“You gotta be up early?”

“Nah, not too early.”

“What do you do? I mean, outside of this?” he turned and directed you to his car.

“Data entry,” you sighed, “it’s not very exciting but I work remotely and the pay is decent and I still have time for the kids.”

“It’s a living,” he said as the door locks clicked and you grabbed the handle, “no judgment. Trust me, being a lawyer, it’s really not as glamourous as it seems.”

🖤

Andy’s routine changed. He came around every Thursday and listened. After a few weeks, the kids figured out who he was. They didn’t treat him any differently and even invited him to join in on the teambuilding games you arranged. He wasn’t bad help as you welcomed a few new members from the group home.

That night, you weren’t feeling great. Even the kids hadn’t helped much. You were exhausted and nauseous. You blamed it on the late night shawarma. You said goodbye to the kids and packed up. Andy stacked the chairs without you asking, even when you told him not to.

You leaned heavily on the table and checked your phone before slipping it into your bag. You wiped your forehead and shivered. Some gravol, ginger ale, and sleep would be your indulgence that night.

“You okay?” Andy asked.

“Stomach thing,” you rubbed your middle, “nothing major.”

“You don’t look great,” he said, “well, I don’t mean it like-- are you sure--”

“Oh, gee,” you slid past him and out the door.

You ran to the restroom across the hall and into a stall. You wretched and the acid seared your throat. The bile bubbled in the toilet water and you shuddered. You heaved a few more times and rinsed your mouth in the sink.

Andy was waiting for you in the hall, “let me drive you tonight,” he insisted, “even if it’s just a block away.”

“I can’t even say no,” you grumbled as he handed you your purse.

“What’s wrong? You eat something?”

“I think,” you groaned as he held the door open and the cool air outside chilled the sweat on your neck, “urgh, I hope it’s only that.”

You got to his car and fell heavily into the seat. You slumped against the console as he started the car. He paused as the engine idled and felt your forehead. He nudged you back against the seat and turned his hand to press the back of his fingers to your cheek.

“You got a fever,” he said, “I don’t think it’s food poisoning.”

“Oh, those kids carry bugs like rats,” you muttered, “just take me home, I’ll get over it.”

He pulled out of his spot and you closed your eyes. You leaned against the window, frigid against your forehead and hugged yourself. You dozed off before he even turned out of the lot, the belt keeping you from folding over entirely.

🖤

You woke up between fresh linen. The sunlight was soft in its early hues. It wasn't your bed. You rolled onto your side and your stomach ached from how empty it was. You pushed back the thick duvet, you were sweating. You didn't remember more than the car ride and a few fuzzy glimpses of the bottom of a bucket. 

You were cold again and pulled the blanket back. The door was open and Andy filled it as if he'd heard your grumbles. He stood at the bottom of the bed in a pair of plaid pants and a blue tee.

"Why am I here?" You asked. 

"You fell asleep. You're sick. I couldn't just leave you outside your building," he said, "how are you feeling?"

"Bad," you replied curtly, "I can go," you sat up, "stop by the pharmacy, go hide in my own bed."

"You should stay here," he insisted, "just until the fever breaks."

"Really… ugh," you moaned as your belly clenched, "Andy, I should--"

"Lay down?" He came around and caught your shoulder, "I used to call in sometimes when Jacob was home sick. When he was a lot younger and… I stir up a man cup of noodles."

"You don't have to--"

"It's completely selfish," he interrupted, "it's been a long time since I had someone to take care of or at least it feels like it."

You were light-headed as you tried to stand but he kept you from getting to your feet, "I guess I can stay a little longer."

"Don't act like I don't owe you," he tutted, "now relax. I'll get you some soup. You need something in your system. I got some anti-nausea pills in the cupboard, too."

"Thanks but you don't owe me anything. I'm gonna owe you big."

"Why don't we just call it even then," he backed up, "seeing as that's my bed and my couch, it's really not made for sleeping." He stretched his arms and his shoulders cracked, "especially at my age."

🖤

You stayed another night. You tried to convince Andy to let you take the couch instead but he was a lawyer and rarely lost an argument. It was easier to eat by the evening but you were still dizzy and you couldn't stop yawning. You'd never been so tired.

Despite your uneasiness at overstaying your welcome, you slept more heavily than before. Your guilt didn't keep you awake for long as you sank into a deep sleep and you woke slowly, a murmur escaping your lips as grogginess weighed you down. You were still so very tired but it was already morning.

You stretched and your wrist caught. You winced and tugged at your arm. You sat up in horror as you stared at the metal cuff attached to the hoop drilled into the headboard. You tugged until your arm hurt and your hand throbbed. What the fuck.

"Andy! Andy! What--"

"Shhhhh," Andy hushed you as he entered, "it's okay, you're okay."

"No, I'm not. What did you do?" You pulled again and the metal pinched your skin.

"You're going to hurt yourself," he said calmly.

"Unlock it. Let me go," you struggled as you kicked off the blankets, "Andy, what the fuck?"

"Hey, don't talk like that. It's...nasty."

"I don't understand," you began to pant, "why are you doing this?"

The panic crawled like tendrils up your neck and back. You twisted and pulled but the metal cuff didn't budge. You felt the bed shift and Andy grabbed your shoulder. He forced you down, pinning your other hand beside your head.

"I'm taking care of you," he said, "don't be so ungrateful."

"I can take care of myself. Let me go, please."

"No, you need me," he snarled, "like I need you."

"Andy, you're wrong--"

"Stop!" He covered your mouth, "stop! You don't know what you need. Now be still. Be quiet." He squeezed until your jaw hurt, "don't make this difficult."

He slowly lifted his hand and you didn’t move. You stared at his hand then looked at his face. There was a desperate anger in the depths of his oceanic eyes. He sat back and his jaw clenched as he watched you.

"I'm going to make breakfast. Be good. You need to eat." He backed off the bed and went to the door, "I mean it."

He left you and you listened until pans clinked and clanged in the kitchen below. You folded your thumb against your palm and tried to wiggle free of the cuff. It was too tight. There was only one other way out and you couldn't do it alone.

"HELP! HELP! SOMEONE PLEASE!" You screamed, "someone help me!"

The footsteps hammered up the stairs and Andy stormed in. He grabbed you and clamped his hand over your mouth again.

"Listen, no one can hear you, you got that? Windows are soundproof, but I really don't want to hear it so it's up to you if I gag you."

You blinked and your lip trembled against his hand. Your eyes rounded and you nodded stiffly. He tore his hand away and sighed as he clapped his hands on his legs in frustration.

"Good," he said quietly, "now, let's just hope," he stood and strode to the door, "that the bacon didn't burn."

🖤

You fell asleep again shortly after eating, even with the adrenaline and panic surging through your veins. You woke again in the afternoon. Your limbs were heavy but the fever was gone and your stomach felt better but you were still terribly tired. 

Andy was there. He had a leather file in his lap as he looked over papers and scratched his beard. He sensed your movement and looked over at you.

"Hungry?" He asked, "you slept through lunch."

"No," you smelled your sweat on the duvet, "but… can I have a shower? I haven't...since I got here."

"A shower?" He closed the folder and stood. He set it down and pursed his lips as he thought. "Fifteen minutes," he said as he dug around in his pocket, "I'll be here."

He unlocked the cuff and you rubbed your wrist as you sat up. He stayed close as you rose and stayed between you and the bedroom door as he pointed you to the bathroom.

"I don't have much for you to wear yet but you can take another one of my shirts," he said.

You nodded and closed the door between you. You closed your eyes and pressed yourself to the wind. How was this the same man that you spoke to that day at the cemetery?

🖤

He slept beside you that night. You were on your side, your arm bound again by the cuff with the pillow between it and your head. You were uncomfortable, more so with him against your back. He wore only a pair of boxers. You shied away when he undressed and never looked at him again.

You dozed despite your nerves. You couldn't shake the drowsiness. You just felt more and more tired. When you opened your eyes, his arm was around you. He ran his fingers over your stomach, fingers crawling beneath the baggy tee shirt. You shivered and he nuzzled the back of your neck.

"I was thinking… well, I've been thinking for a while now, how happy we could be," he said, "I'm still young enough to try again, do it right and you… you're young, ready." His hand brushed up to your chest and he cupped your tit, "you're kind, you're caring, you're...beautiful. You’re my second chance."

“Andy,” your voice was brittle as your pulse beat furiously, “what you’re doing, it’s not right. You need to let me go.”

He went rigid and his hand stopped. He unsnaked his arm from around you and the springs coiled as he fell heavily onto his back. In the silence, you could only hear his steady breaths and a low growl.

“No, I’m helping you,” he said, “like you’ve helped me.”

“Andy, please,” you eased onto your back and looked over at him, “this isn’t how you fix this.”

“How do I?” he snarled, “huh? How? You don’t know!” he sat up and glared down at you, “you can’t know.”

“You think hurting me is helping me? That’s what you’re doing.”

“No, no, no,” he bent his legs as he grasped his head and gripped it as if it would crack, “No! I haven’t hurt you. I feed you, I keep you clean, I… I take care of you!”

“Andy,” you reached over shakily and touched his bare shoulder, “this isn’t what I want and I know you don’t want it either. You want someone who really loves you--”

“You love me!” he turned so quickly you yelped. He gripped your jaw tightly as he held himself against you, “you love me,” he pressed his lips to yours and you murmured in surprise, “you love me,” it was a maddened chant as he pulled back, “...love me.”

“And--”

His hand flew up to smother you and he lifted himself over you. His knees pressed to your legs until they parted and his other hand explored your curves through the rumpled cotton. You squeaked and tensed against his touch, your wrist chafing from the cuff.

“Shhh,” he hushed as he pushed the shirt up.

He kept his hand on your mouth as he slid down your body and left a trail of kisses along your torso as he unveiled it. He bunched the tee above your chest and bent to dote on your tits. You shuddered and pushed on his head as you mumbled into his palm.

His fingers tickled along your side and hooked into the side of the drawstring shorts he gave you. He tugged until the string snapped and edged them down as he continued to tend to your chest. You kicked around him and felt his bulge as he leaned into you.

He ripped his hand away and sat up. He grabbed the waist of the shorts and wrenched them down your legs, quickly taking his between them again. You wriggled and batted out at his chest as his thumbs pressed against your hip bones and his hands crept down to knead your thighs.

“I can start again,” he brushed his fingers down your vee and you trembled as they danced along your cunt.

“No, Andy, please, you can still stop--”

“Shhhh, honey,” he pushed between your folds and you gasped, “it’s okay. I’ll still take care of you,” he glided over your cunt and made you twitch, “and the baby.”

He poked along your entrance and you whined helplessly as you reached to the cuff and pulled with both arms. Every muscles in your strained as you tried to break free of the headboard. He pushed a finger inside of you and you cried out.

“Andy, stop, please, no--”

He added another finger and slipped them in and out of you as he purred. You looked at his face and it sent a chill through you. His eyes were dark and clung to the movement of his hand, his brow set and his jaw squared with his intent. He wasn’t the grieving widower, he wasn’t the man lost and lonely, he was a monster.

“That’s it,” he turned his hand and flicked your clit with his thumb, “you want me. I feel it.”

You looked away as your wetness spread to his knuckles and along your folds. He kept his thumb moved as he curled his fingers inside of you and the pressure built as the tip of his touch. You gritted your teeth and shook your head helplessly.

“No,” you whispered, “no, no, no…”

He took his hand away suddenly and you felt empty. He lifted himself on his knees and rolled down his boxers. You didn’t look at him, you couldn’t, you only saw the silhouette of his nudity.

He pushed your thighs apart and spread himself over you, his elbow just beside you as he felt around between your bodies. His hot breath grazed your cheek and he kissed it firmly as he angled his tip between your folds. Your thighs clenched around him in a futile act of resistance as he found your entrance.

He pushed inside slowly and brought his other arm up beside you. He forced your head straight and you squeezed your eyes shut. He cradled your head between his hands and his lips brushed yours as he spoke, “open your eyes. Look at me.”

“Andy,” you murmured as he slowly got deeper, “please--”

“Look at me,” he demanded, “look at me!”

Your eyes snapped open and met his stormy blue ones. He bucked his hips and impaled you completely. You exclaimed and grasped his thick bicep in shock, your other hand balled above the cuff. Your legs bent around his thick thighs as you tried to stop him.

“God, you feel so good,” he purred as he began to rock, “don’t I feel good too?”

Your lashes fluttered away the rising tears and you sucked your lip in to keep from making a sound. You could look away as he held your head straight, his hand clamping around your jaw as he other arm bent beneath yours.

The room echoed with the noise of his flesh slapping yours as he sped up, his grunts and groans interlaced with the sickening symphony. You quivered as his pelvis rubbed against yours and stoked the heat in your core. You could not hold back the illicit response of your body as he ravaged it.

Your breath grew heavier and he gulped it down as he kissed you again, forcing his tongue between your lips as he devoured you. The whole bed moved in time with your body and the headboard knocked against the wall as his thrusts came closer and closer together and he buried himself as deep as he could with each tilt of his hips.

He drew his mouth away and pressed his cheek to yours as his muscles tensed and he puffed into the pillow, “this is it, honey. It all starts here.”

“Ah, please…” your voice fizzled and smothered your moan against his shoulder as your body spasmed. Your legs bent around him firmly as you orgasmed and your body arched beneath his desperately.

“That’s it,” he cooed, “that’s it. You take me so well. See… it was meant to… be.”

His breaths grew more rampant with his rhythm. His hand slipped down to cradle your cheek and his thumb stroked your flesh tenderly as he dipped into you over and over. His deep groans grew louder around you. He jerked into you sharply and his motion stuttered. He gripped your hip and held you down as he sheathed himself in your walls. 

He quaked as his hips slowed and he flooded you. He exhaled and as his lungs emptied, the strength left him entirely and he lowered himself over you weakly. His body pressed yours into the mattress, your sweat and his turned sticky as the air settled over you.

He stayed like that for what felt like forever. He moved slowly to lift himself up and he sat back, watching his dick slide out of you. Your thighs shook as your legs splayed around him. You felt his cum leak from you and he dragged his fingers along your cunt and scooped it back into you, coating his fingers in as he pushed them past your entrance once more. He smiled at the wet sounds of your cunt.

“That felt like the one,” he said, “but we can try again...”

He pulled his fingers out of you and admired the slickness that glistened over them. He reached down and gripped his dick, half-soft and spent. He winced as he began to stroke himself and let out stifled moans between his teeth.

“Maybe this time,” he purred as he angled himself inside of you again and lifted your legs against his torso. He bit his lips as he trembled, his cock oversensitive and overworked, “as many times as it takes, honey.”

[screamingatanemptyroom]

Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

[vannahfanfics]

Morning People

Category: Romantic Fluff

Fandom: Haikyuu!!

Characters: Kiyoomi Sakusa, Atsumu Miya

Hello, everyone! Here is my story for the Sakusa Reverse Bang! I had a great time writing this story for my partner jay’s absolutely stunning art. So, I hope you all enjoy!

Kiyoomi had always been an early riser. His internal clock was incredibly precise, drawing him out of the sweet twilight of sleep just as the sun began to peek over the horizon. Kiyoomi had never been one to try and cling to sleep, either; once he was up, he was up. He’d rise from the pillows with a quiet sigh, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his palms before sliding out of bed. His slippers were always in the same place, resting right next to his bed so he could slip his feet in without touching the cold wood floor. He’d shuffle over to the window and draw the curtains aside, letting the sunlight spill into the room. 

His warm breath fogged against the glass when he exhaled from how close he leaned to the panes. A soft smile bloomed on his lips as he watched the sun spill over the horizon, chasing away the curtain of night and filling the air with warmth. The green leaves of the blossoming trees quivered in the breeze, and even through the closed window, Kiyoomi could hear them rustle. The songbirds were performing their dawn chorus, starting up a symphony more beautiful than any classicist could dream of creating. 

Peaceful. Just how Kiyoomi liked it. 

And then his nice morning solitude shattered. 

Kiyoomi had chosen Atsumu’s ringtone on purpose—loud, obnoxious, grating to the ears. As it erupted from his phone, the poppy tune of the most annoying girl group song he could find piercing the silence of the morning, Kiyoomi debated not answering it. However, he found himself crossing the room and pulling his cellphone off the charger to look at the screen. A very unflattering picture of Atsumu was plastered across the screen, showing his eyes rolling back into his head as he devoured a monstrous bacon cheeseburger. Ketchup and grease were dripping from his mouth. 

Just looking at it made Kiyoomi scrunch up his nose in disgust. 

Still, he knew that Atsumu liked his sleep. Why was he calling him so early in the morning unless it was important? It was this that compelled him to answer, swiping the screen and putting the phone to his ear with a quiet, “Hello?” 

“Omi-Omi!” Atsumu trilled on the other end of the line. Kiyoomi should have remembered to hold the phone a few inches away from his head; Atsumu had always been a screamer on the phone. Kiyoomi recoiled away from the speaker, his eardrum ringing from the pitch and volume of Atsumu’s voice. His grunt was buried in Atsumu’s lively chatter. “Good morning, Omi-Omi! Sleep well?” 

“What do you want?” he groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut. It was too early in the morning for him to be developing a migraine. 

“Aw, did I wake you?” 

“You know you didn’t. It’s just strange that you’re calling so early,” Kiyoomi sniffed in response. 

“What? Am I not allowed to wake up early to be the first to greet ya, Omi?” 

“Cut the crap, Atsumu. What do you want?” 

“Go out with me today~”

Kiyoomi let out an unflattering choking sound, nearly swallowing his own tongue with the compulsive jerk of his head. It hadn’t been what he was expecting, and the abrupt request was jarring. A small part of him wanted to tell Atsumu to screw off and hang up the phone. 

A small part of him. 

“All right. I have nothing to do today, but I have to ask—why the sudden invite?” 

“It’s Spring Break, Omi!” 

“We’re not in high school anymore. We don’t get Spring Break.” 

“Ugh, yer getting too caught up in the details.” He could envision Atsumu flapping his hand in dismissal, and it brought a smirk to Kiyoomi’s lips. “The point is that it’s a perfectly fine day to go out! Yer too pale. Ya need more sunshine.” 

“I already agreed. Are you trying to get me to go back on that?” Kiyoomi sniffed. He ran a hand over the arm that was holding the phone with a sulky pout. I’m not that pale… he grumped while looking at his arm. 

“It’s ma love language, or at least, that’s what ‘Samu says,” Atsumu laughed. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes. Of course Atsumu would take something that was clearly meant as a sarcastic insult as a compliment. “All right, Omi-Omi! I’ll be there to pick ya up in an hour.” 

“Why so long?” 

“Because I need time to pretty myself up for ya~” 

“Ugh. You disgust me,” Kiyoomi growled, hanging up the phone in the middle of Atsumu’s laugh. He lowered the phone, looking down at that stupid picture of Atsumu with the cheeseburger. He hadn’t even taken it. Shouyou had while he and Atsumu were meeting up for their weekly jaunt to their favorite burger joint, and he had sent it to the team group chat, thinking it was hilarious. 

Kiyoomi stared at it, his features slowly softening with a smile. 

Stupid Atsumu. He better not try dragging me to that greasy burger place, or I’ll turn right around and go home.

Probably. 

***

Atsumu Miya could never make an entrance like a normal person. Instead of coming up to the door and knocking like a civilized person, he parked in front of the driveway and honked the horn of his obnoxious red convertible. Kiyoomi marched out of the house with a thunderous expression, practically radiating rage as he glared at Atsumu from his doorway. 

“Are you trying to wake the whole neighborhood?!” 

“Ahhh, don’t be so angry, Omi!” Atsumu crooned over the rock music pumping out of his radio, pulling his sunglasses down the bridge of his nose to look at Kiyoomi with glittering eyes. A smirk danced on his lips, that stupid smirk that made Kiyoomi want to smack it off of him but also made his heart do this weird pitter-patter in his chest. Pouting, Kiyoomi pulled his mask up his face before stalking down his driveway. He just so happened to glance in the backseat, and what he saw there made him want to go right back. 

“You brought your Pomeranians?!” 

Atsumu’s five Pomeranians sat calmly on their luxuriously fluffy car bed, their luscious golden-orange fur shining in the sunlight. The diamonds on their pink collars glittered as they all looked at Kiyoomi, ears perking and pink tongues flicking at their button-like black noses. 

“I don’t go anywhere without ma princesses!” Atsumu huffed. “What’s the problem? They’re all in the backseat! That’s quite an honor, ya know. I don’t put ‘em in the back for just anyone.” 

“You are ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous,” Kiyoomi snorted. He gave the Pomeranians a side-eye as he jerked the passenger side door open. All five of them had assumed identical positions, their heads tilted and one triangle-shaped ear perked up while they stared curiously at him. “Princesses,” my ass, he thought with a roll of his eyes, then plopped down in the seat. One of the dogs licked her nose, then crawled to the edge of the dog bed to sniff at Kiyoomi’s arm. 

“So, it’s seven forty-five in the morning,” Kiyoomi said, leering down at the dog suspiciously while pulling his arm away from her cold, moist nose. “What are your grand plans for this outing of yours?” 

“Breakfast, o’course!” Atsumu preened. He gave the engine a playful rev while wiggling an eyebrow at him; Kiyoomu wrinkled his forehead to show just how hard he was wrinkling up his nose. “Bah, so much for you being a morning person!” he laughed before putting the car in drive and heading off down the road. 

Kiyoomi sniffed and turned to look out the window. 

“I am a morning person. I’m just not a morning with Atsumu person.” 

Yet, here he was. 

Atsumu did not drive him to the greasy burger joint. Presumably, this was because the diner wasn’t open; if it had been, that’s probably what Atsumu would have opted for. Instead, Kiyoomi was relieved to realize that Atsumu had chosen to bring him to a café. Of course, this was Atsumu; it wasn’t the run-of-the-mill chain coffee restaurant that many ran through on their morning commute. This was a sophisticated little building on a street corner, with flowers blossoming in windowsill flower boxes and soft cloth umbrellas rippling in the morning breeze. With the convertible top open, Kiyoomi could smell the robust scent of roasting coffee beans dancing on the wind. 

Coffee always made even the worst mornings better. 

“All right, girls! Be good and Daddy will bring you back a treat!” Atsumu crooned to his Pomeranians as he closed his car door. His dogs jumped at the backseat door, their curly tails wagging and pink tongues lolling as they each fought to get to Atsumu’s hand. He made sure to give each one a good pet or scratch before strolling around the back of the car to Kiyoomi, who was just standing there with his arms crossed. “What?” Atsumu sniffed. 

“I was just thinking that if you ever started going out with someone, your poor little princesses would get jealous and maul them to death,” Kiyoomi answered coolly. Atsumu tipped back his head, barking out a laugh. Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow. He wasn’t trying to be funny. Seriously, those dogs ate up so much of Atsumu’s attention, anything that took it away would immediately be seen as a mortal enemy. 

“My girls are full of nothing but love!” Atsumu protested, swinging his car keys around his finger before stowing them in his jacket pocket. “And so prim and proper. How dare you insinuate that they would do something so unseemly!” 

“... I need coffee,” Kiyoomi gruffed, turning on his heel to march into the coffee shop. Atsumu followed after him, still spouting protests about Kiyoomi’s cruel mistreatment of his “girls.” And yet, as much as he wanted to resent Atsumu’s attachment to his Pomeranians, he couldn’t help but find it endearing. And so, behind the safety of his mask, he smiled. 

“One iced cinnamon latte and a cheese danish, please,” Kiyoomi told the cashier after she pleasantly addressed him. Atsumu peered over his shoulder, eyebrows raised, while Kiyoomi swiped his debit card in the card machine. 

“Wow, Omi-Omi! I didn’t expect that?” 

“And what did you expect?” he asked, not looking at him as he scrawled his signature over the screen. 

“Yer so gloomy. I expected ya to order, yanno, like a black coffee and a plain bagel or some shit.” 

“I’m not gloomy,” Kiyoomi said resentfully. Atsumu stepped back when he turned to look at him, and pouted at Kiyoomi’s narrowed eyebrows. “If you really find my personality so insufferable, then why bother to spend time with me?” Kiyoomi didn’t mean for as much resentment to pour into his voice as it did, but his hurt was made obvious; expression sour, tone bitter, eyes full of pain. And his teeth gritted in frustration behind the mask—he didn’t know why Atsumu not liking him bothered him as much as it did, considering that they sort of couldn’t stand each other in the beginning. But it did, and the idea of Atsumu dragging him out just to antagonize him really made his heart twist in his chest. 

“What?” Atsumu cried. Either the shocked expression on his face was really good acting, or genuine. Kiyoomi’s heart decided to believe the latter, and he relaxed a little, relief making his muscles unwind just a bit. “Omi-Omi, I don’t find you insufferable. I’m just teasin’, that’s all! I’m sorry.” Atsumu seemed legitimately remorseful that his joking had caused Kiyoomi hurt. With a small sniff, Kiyoomi pulled the mask a little higher up his face—trying to hide the blush creeping up his cheeks. 

“‘S fine,” he grumbled. “The truth is… I am a little more irritable in the mornings… Especially before I get caffeine.” 

Atsumu blinked at him. Then, that stupid grin spread across his face again, immediately making Kiyoomi regret being just the faintest bit honest. 

“Oh? Not as much of a morning person as you pretend to be, eh?” he jeered. Kiyoomi rolled his eyes, and when the cashier turned around to hand the plastic cup with Kiyoomi’s name on it to the barista, he flipped Atsumu off, too. “Ah! You wound me, Omi-Omi! Right to the heart!” Atsumu cried and dramatically splayed his hands over his heart like he had literally been shot. Kiyoomi ignored him, taking the cheese danish from the cashier with a quiet “Thank you” before moving on down the counter to wait for his latte. 

Kiyoomi got his latte just as Atsumu sauntered down to join him. He had already taken a few bites of his cheese danish, and he pulled it away from his mouth to take a sip of his coffee. His eyes fluttered a little as the sweet yet hardy taste of the milk-coffee blend hit his tongue. He knew that the caffeine didn’t act that fast, but he still felt better even with just that first sip. 

Just as he popped his mouth off the straw, he looked over to see Atsumu tearing off a piece of his cheese danish and popping it in his mouth. 

“What the hell?” Kiyoomi snarled, yanking the pastry away before the greedy boy could take more. Atsumu just stared at him through his lashes, licking the danish filling off his thumb and first finger. 

“I just wanted to see what it tasted like,” he simpered. “It’s still so weird to imagine ya with a sweet tooth, Omi-Omi. I couldn’t help myself!” 

“Then order your own, damn it!” Kiyoomi barked back, then chomped down on the danish in retaliation. He was so burned up over it that he didn’t even consider that Atsumu probably hadn’t sanitized his hands before doing it. His mind was all in a jumble because he was thinking of the fact that Atsumu was the type of person to just take a bite out of something, but he had been considerate enough to use his hands instead to not freak Kiyoomi out. And that level of familiarity and tenderness in such an innocuous moment made his heart stutter in his chest. Unfortunately, he could not just chalk it up to the palpitations from the coffee. 

“But I wanted my favorite bagel, too!” Atsumu whined. “I’m not made of money, you know.” 

“You can afford to feed your five Pomeranians but not yourself, apparently,” Kiyoomi grumbled around the danish. 

“Always so surly,” Atsumu sighed. The barista set his cup on the counter, and Atsumu grabbed it to immediately take a big sip. It was some abomination of a frappuccino, with caramel sauce swirled in the cup and over the gobs of whipped cream nearly bursting out of the plastic topper. And Atsumu was talking about Kiyoomi having a sweet tooth? Preposterous. 

“And here’s your two cups of whipped cream!” the barista chirped to Atsumu, holding them out to him. 

“Do me a favor and take one of those, will ya, Omi-Omi?” 

Kiyoomi did as bid, though with a confused look. 

“What are these for?” he asked. 

“For my babies, of course! <3” Atsumu answered cheerfully. 

It took everything in Kiyoomi’s body not to flip the plastic cup over and let the whipped cream slide out and splatter onto the floor. 

“Annnnnnd, at least, the piece de resistance,” Atsumu purred when the barista handed him his warm bagel. Interested to see how Atsumu’s craving for sugar ruined such a quintessential breakfast item, Kiyoomi craned his neck to peer into the paper wrapping. It was a chocolate chip bagel, which wasn’t all that bad—but it was the plastic container of hazelnut-chocolate spread that made Kiyoomi sniff in disdain. “What?’ Atsumu huffed and held his bagel protectively to his chest. “You aren’t thinking about stealing a piece out of revenge, are you?” 

“Well, I would be entitled to, considering how you absconded with a piece of my danish,” Kiyoomi said, “but no. I was wondering what aberration of a bagel you’d ordered.” 

“It’s just a chocolate chip one!” 

“With Nutella.” 

“Listen, Nutella is God’s gift to men, and I intend to make the most of it,” Atsumu huffed, taking the plastic butter knife out of the package to waggle it scoldingly at Kiyoomi. “Now, let’s go outside.” 

“Why?” 

“I told ya this morning! You need sunshine!” Atsumu teased. He was already walking toward the door, so Kiyoomi just followed him. “Nah, it’s a nice day, and they have those fancy tables outside, so I thought we could eat out there. Plus, it’ll give my princesses a chance to stretch their legs while they eat their num-nums! <3” 

“Atsumu, we’re in public, please,” Kiyoomi groaned. He looked back over his shoulder just in time to see the barista smother her snort of laughter with a cough. 

Atsumu just sauntered through the door. He held it open for Kiyoomi, who wanted nothing more than to smack that stupid grin off his face and rip those jumping eyebrows off his forehead. Mostly because that sunny smile of his was making his heart palpitate again, and compounded with the growing warmth of the morning, it was making him feel a little light-headed. 

Kiyoomi claimed them a table while Atsumu went to free his “princesses” from the confines of the convertible. As soon as he opened the door and lowered the seat, they sprang forth, a furry golden river crashed over a crumbling red dam. Kiyoomi really wanted to hate those damn Pomeranians, but as they circled around Atsumu’s feet and jumped at his legs, Atsumu laughed—and ugh, what a laugh. It was probably the most blissful laugh that Kiyoomi had ever heard burst from Atsumu’s lungs. It was like pure morning bells ringing in the coming of the sun, so demure and unadulterated that it was almost angelic. 

Ew. Kiyoomi never thought Atsumu and angelic would be in the same thought. He squinted suspiciously at his coffee, wondering if he’d gotten a batch of bad beans or something. But his gaze slowly drifted back up to Atsumu, as if drawn by a magnet; and as he watched the way his sunny hair danced in the wind and the way his smile seemed to shine brighter than the sun peeking over the tops of the buildings, Kiyoomi just couldn’t help but feel like he’d been blessed.

“All right, my girlies, eat up!” Atsumu trilled as he set the two cups of whipped cream down on the ground. The Pomeranians crowded around them, and the air became filled with their snuffling slurps as they licked up the sweet cream. Atsumu then sank into the seat opposite Kiyoomi and breathed a contented sigh. Kiyoomi tucked his legs closer to himself and looked apprehensively down at the dogs. 

“Ah, come on, Omi-Omi, they ain’t gonna bite,” Atsumu chuckled with an amused glance up from his bagel, which he was now smearing with the thick chocolate paste. 

“I just… don’t have much experience with dogs,” Kiyoomi muttered back. One of the Pomeranians glanced up at the sound of his voice. He raised an eyebrow at the glob of whipped cream on the top of her nose, which she was unsuccessfully trying to lick off. She blinked, then began to wag her poofy tail furiously. 

“Aw, come on, Omi! Give Porschia a pet.” 

“Porschia?” 

“Yeah! Porschia, Penelope, Peaches, Pepper, and Puddin’.” 

One of those things is not like the other, Kiyoomi thought. However, his mind was soon overtaken again by the challenge before him. Porschia looked at him expectantly—the word “pet” had made her ears perk, and now her tail was wagging more slowly as she studied Kiyoomi’s movements. He squirmed in his chair; it wasn’t that he disliked dogs, he just… had no experience with them. Even these tiny little fluffy things made him anxious. 

Still, Kiyoomi Sakusa was not one to back down from a challenge. And so, he steeled his nerves and slowly leaned down to give the dog a few hesitant scritches atop her head. As his fingers massaged into the fuzzy spot between her head, Porschia closed her eyes and let her tongue loll out of her mouth. Kiyoomi couldn’t help but chuckle; he supposed that it was pretty cute. 

The rest of the dogs all perked up simultaneously. Kiyoomi froze as four pairs of beady little eyes came to rest on him all at once. The Pomeranians then sprang forward, crowding his hand to smother it in eager licks and snuffles. He quickly snatched his hand back, holding it to his chest as if he’d been burned, and looked apprehensively at the dogs. They all whined in disappointment, then began to nose at his legs in an effort to try and give them attention, too. 

“Heh, they like ya, Omi-Omi!” Atsumu chortled. Kiyoomi looked at him with a slight pout, but it did not deter the grin stretching across Atsumu’s face. 

Kiyoomi managed to give each of the dogs some affection as he nursed his coffee, gradually acclimating to their energetic activity. They actually were remarkably well-behaved, not bothered at all by the strangers that walked by (many of whom temporarily joined the two young men to coo over the Pomeranians and shower them in even more pets and baby-talk). They stuck close to Atsumu, lounging in the puddles of sunlight around the bistro table to just enjoy the gradually warming morning after they’d licked the cups of whipped cream clean. 

“Yer right,” Atsumu remarked with a laugh after Kiyoomi had finally finished his coffee. Kiyoomi looked at him with a raised eyebrow, and he continued with a slightly mischievous smirk, “Ya really are a much nicer person after ya’ve had some coffee!” 

“Tch. Be careful, or you’re smack talk will sour my mood again,” Kiyoomi huffed. However, the corners of his lips were tugging up into a smirk, too. Perhaps it was the pleasant warmth of the golden sun spilling over his back, or the songbirds chirping cheerily in the nearby trees, but he was in an exceptionally good mood—good enough to find Atsumu’s normally grating attitude kind of entertaining. He drummed his fingers on the wrought iron of the bistro table, then regarded Atsumu with glittering eyes. “So, knowing you, you didn’t drag me out for just morning coffee. What’s next on the agenda?” 

“Oh, what’s this? Are you getting eager, Omi-Omi?” Atsumu said with an amused whistle. 

“I just don’t like surprises.” 

“Bah, yer no fun!” Atsumu sniffed and waved a hand dismissively at him. It then landed on his face, cupping his cheek as he leaned forward slightly to smirk at him. “But yer right, I do have more fun planned. Shall we?” 

They rose in unison, and the Pomeranians immediately jumped up. Their collars jingled frantically as they circled Atsumu’s feet, carefully avoiding his steps while being as close as possible while he walked to the car. Kiyoomi expected him to head to the driver’s side, but instead, he leaned over the passenger side door to pop open the glovebox. When he removed five pink, diamond-studded leashes, Kiyoomi raised an eyebrow. 

“It’s just a short walk from here,” Atsumu explained as he leaned down and began leashing up his dogs. 

“Oh, so this isn’t just me being dragged along while you walk your dogs?” 

“Nah, Omi-Omi, you’re more special than that!” Atsumu laughed, standing up and wrapped the leashes around his hand. Kiyoomi flushed as pink as the woven fibers of the leashes and matching collars, and he was grateful that the mask covered the majority of his cheeks. Special, he repeated in his head. He tried to convince himself that Atsumu probably didn’t mean anything by it, but he couldn’t stop the butterflies from swirling around in his stomach. 

So he kept his distance as he and Atsumu walked side-by-side down the sidewalk. The dogs strutted ahead of them, their little curly tails held high and ears perked while they eagerly observed their surroundings. Even though Kiyoomi made it a point to keep at least an arm’s length between himself and Atsumu, there was just something so domestic about the moment that it made his stomach begin to flip and flop around in his stomach. The pinkness in his cheeks gradually began to turn green with nausea, or at least it felt like it. 

“Here it is, Omi-Omi!” Atsumu announced after just a few minutes of walking. Kiyoomi had been so busy trying not to throw up his breakfast that he hadn’t been paying much attention, and so he was honestly surprised when he glanced up. 

“Oh… A cherry blossom viewing park?” 

It was one of the many scattered around. This one was rather small, a long corridor lined on either side by the blooming pink trees. The pathway was ladened with the discarded petals, swirling around as the wind danced through the linear hollow. Even through the mask, the sweet aroma of the cherry blossoms flooded his nose, inviting him in. The branches had been carefully trimmed to curl over the walkway like an awning; it almost felt like a portal to some springtime fantasy world.

“Ya can’t properly enjoy spring without lookin’ at some cherry blossoms!” Atsumu grinned. He looked so positively pleased with himself that Kiyoomi didn’t have the heart to tell him that he had never much been one for the seasonal tradition. Well, it can’t hurt. I have nothing else to do today. That, and he definitely did not want to see the look on Atsumu’s face if he told him he didn’t want to. Walking under the cherry blossoms with Atsumu… Surely it wouldn’t be that big of a deal. Right? 

So he accompanied Atsumu down the walkway. The shadows of the trees folded over them; where once shone the warm sunbeams, now danced cool shadows. The Pomeranians let out happy little barks as they pranced around, their tiny paws throwing up the petals. Atsumu and Kiyoomi walked slow to allow the dogs to play, and they ran around, nosing around the soft petals and flinging them about. 

Kiyoomi was in the middle of chuckling at Porschia trying to dislodge a cherry blossom petal stuck to her nose when he felt Atsumu’s hand slide into his. 

Kiyoomi looked at Atsumu, then at their linked hands, then back up at Atsumu. Atsumu looked nonchalant at first, but as it became clear that Kiyoomi was utterly and totally perplexed, his expression morphed to a more bashful one. He refused to let Kiyoomi’s hand go, though, using the hand holding all the leashes to scratch at the side of his hand. 

“Uh, Omi-Omi… People usually hold hands on dates, yanno.” 

“This is a date?” Kiyoomi blurted. Atsumu’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head at his startled question. His eyes began to roam around, unable to focus on Kiyoomi as the blush began to color his face. 

“Um… Yeah? Were you not aware of that?” 

“No. No I was not.” 

“Oh. I thought I made that clear.” 

“No. No you did not. You just said you wanted to go out, not in what capacity.” 

Atsumu looked awkwardly down at their hands, which were still clasped together. He cleared his throat, then looked apologetically at Kiyoomi. 

“I guess I should, uh… Let go, then.” 

However, when Atsumu moved to do so, Kiyoomi stubbornly entwined their fingers so as to lock Atsumu’s hand in his. He didn’t really know why in the moment; he just knew that it felt really good, holding hands with Atsumu, and so he didn’t want to relinquish his grip. Atsumu quietly murmured his name, and God, did that feel good, too. Kiyoomi stepped close to Atsumu, close enough that their chests brushed the barest bit with each of Atsumu’s slightly panting breaths. 

“I didn’t say you had to do that.” 

Atsumu looked both relieved and confused. He searched Kiyoomi’s face for any sign of maliciousness or discomfort, but Kiyoomi’s expression was stony and serious. 

“I just said I didn’t know it was a date. I didn’t say I didn’t want it to be a date.” 

Sure, there were parts of Kiyoomi that found certain aspects of Atsumu grating. But there were way more parts of him that craved his presence. The parts of him that saved that stupid picture. The parts of him that agreed to stupid early morning coffee outings. The parts of him that felt overjoyed that Atsumu put his Pomeranians in the backseat for him and only him. The parts of him that loved his smile and smirk and laugh. The parts of him that really wanted to kiss him right now. 

And it was those parts of him that were in operation, driving him to pull his mask down and lean in to press his lips to Atsumu’s. 

Atsumu melted into the kiss, even going so far as to let out a small, satisfied hum. As Kiyoomi’s lips moved against his, he squeezed Kiyoomi’s hand, as if convincing himself that what was happening was real. And Kiyoomi couldn’t blame him. His head was drifted into a hazy fog, too, growing drunk with the saccharine sweetness of his mouth. 

He only pulled away when Porschia latched her little teeth into his pants leg and angrily began to shake her head around. Kiyoomi looked down, raised an eyebrow at her snarling and growling trying to maul his clothes, and then blaisely remarked, “I told you they would get jealous.” 

“Pfft. They’ll have to get used to it,” Atsumu laughed. When Kiyoomi looked back at him, Atsumu’s eyes were shining with bliss. “Well… That certainly wasn’t what I was expectin’, but I can’t say I’m disappointed.” 

“Tch. Next time we go on a date, make it clear.” 

“So there will be a next time?” Atsumu preened. Kiyoomi hastily yanked his mask back up his face, feeling the heat of the blush return. Atsumu just laughed, pulled his hand out of Kiyoomi’s, and tossed his arm around his shoulders to tug him close. As they resumed meandering through the cherry blossoms, Kiyoomi thought again that he wasn’t really a morning person. 

But he was definitely a “morning with Atsumu Miya” person.

Enjoy this oneshot? Feel free to peruse my Table of Contents!

[cosmicjoke]

Alright, chapter 133 of SnK!

I’ve got a few things I want to talk about here.

One of the things that always strikes me about Levi as a character, indeed, one of his defining character traits, is his coolness under pressure.  His calm demeanor, no matter the circumstances.  One of the interesting things to go into is WHY Levi is like this.  

We see it particularly exemplified in this chapter, I think, and there’s a few examples.  For one, they’ve all just lost Hange as their friend and Commander, and this loss particularly impacts and affects Levi, since he was closer with Hange than any of them.  But rather than allowing his grief to consume and paralyze him, Levi immediately begins trying to contribute when Armin says he wants to go over the plan, bringing up Hange’s theory about Zeke and how killing him might stop the Rumbling, etc...  Then Eren transports them to Paths, and everyone reacts with shock and awe, except Levi, who’s expression is duly unimpressed and unsurprised.  We see this from Levi throughout the series, of course.  Situations that present themselves, new and frightening circumstances which throw everyone for a loop and send people into panic, Levi reacts to with calm collectedness, a distinct LACK of surprise or fear.  He really does stand in sharp contrast with everyone else in this situation.  Everyone there is a seasoned war veteran, at this point, they’ve all been through and seen some truly horrific things.  But they still react with a kind of frantic uncertainty here.  They then begin to plead with Eren, Armin and the rest trying to convince him through any means possible, to stop the Rumbling.  They try to bargain with him, show him empathy, make promises, etc...  They make their desperation obvious by saying whatever they think will appeal to Eren.  Levi is the only one who, I think, is fully honest here.  He tells Eren that if he stops now, he’ll let him off with JUST an ass-kicking.  Levi doesn’t try to placate Eren, or show him sympathy, or empathy, he doesn’t try to be gentle or handle Eren with kid gloves.  He tells him flat out he’s going to beat his ass for what he’s done, but he’ll show him some leniency for stopping by not killing him outright.  The thing is, I think Levi’s known from the start of this whole disaster that talking to Eren wasn’t going to work.  Everyone else was holding out hope that if they could just speak with Eren, he would stop, that they could convince him through words.  But like I talked about in my last post, Levi is someone who’s just seen and experienced too much of life’s brutality and unfairness to blind himself to bleak reality.  When the 104th goes running off after Eren appears to them, to try and reach him, Levi just sits down in the sand and has that resigned expression once more, and his expression continues to show a total lack of surprise when Eren puts the 104th back where they started, before they could ever even get close. Levi isn’t surprised, or even dismayed, I don’t think, at Eren’s refusal to talk, because I think he always knew he wouldn’t be willing to.  That he wouldn’t be interested in hearing anyone’s pleas or promises.  I think Levi always knew Eren was hellbent on this course of action, and it was more or less hopeless, trying to appeal to him.  And once again, I have to restate, I think it’s because Levi’s just experienced too much hardship in his life to cling to false hopes.  He’s world-weary and in many ways a realist, someone not given to delusion or fancy.  

I feel like Levi probably glimpsed this uncompromising, hellish bent in Eren back in Liberio, his mercenary compulsion to follow through on whatever plan he had, which is why Levi was so disgusted by him on the airship back then.  He saw a lack of mercy in Eren, and it reminded him of the brutes Levi grew up with in the Underground.  Not just a willingness, but a desire to take from others to satisfy himself.  It’s why, when they’re all transported back to the plane, while everyone else looks horrified and in shock at Eren’s refusal to talk, Levi looks as unflustered as ever, and states with a matter of fact tone that negotiations are over, before asking Armin what it is they do now.  None of this is surprising to Levi.

Levi’s look of despair throughout this final arc continues to strike me as his resignation in the ugliness of humanity and the useless, pointless suffering they inflict on one another.  He’s depressed, and disappointed, because everything happening around them is only a confirmation of all the worst things Levi saw and experienced, growing up.

All this ties into another point I want to discuss, which is Levi’s relationship with Jean, actually.  I’ve found the relationship between the two of them really interesting since way back in the Uprising arc, when Jean was the most vocal in condemning Levi for his violence, declaring with certainty that he would never kill another person.  Jean is disabused of his moralistic superiority not long after that, when he learns first hand the consequences of sticking to ones morals uncompromisingly, nearly losing his life, and forcing Armin to take a life for him.  And it’s Jean who we see, again and again from that point on in the series, grappling with and coming to terms with this difficult lesson.  We see Jean’s respect for Levi, and his understanding towards Levi, grow greatly, after this incident, and Jean himself having to grow, to change and accept that sacrifices are inevitable if one wishes to protect the things and people they care about.  That sometimes even one’s own comfort and moral convictions are necessary sacrifices to achieve those things.  

Levi tells everyone that he’ll take care of Zeke, but admits that he’ll need all of their help to get the job done.  I feel like this is Levi, once again, asking if all of them are ready and willing to get their hands dirty, just like he did before they raided the Cavern underneath the Church on the Reiss property.  He knows he can’t do this job by himself (which is just further testament to Levi’s strength of character, an ability to admit to weakness), but he wants to make sure everyone else is alright with plunging in to a situation in which they’re going to be forced to kill.  Jean is the first to answer, telling Levi and all of them that he’s not going to let the sacrifices they’ve already made, the people they’ve killed in order to get where they are, be in vain, and that he’ll do whatever it takes to stop the Rumbling.  This shows incredible character growth on Jean’s part.  He went from someone who claimed that he would, under no circumstances, take another human life, to someone who declares that he’ll do whatever it takes in order to stop the Rumbling, to achieve a greater good.  And I think this growth on Jean’s part ties directly into his relationship with and the influence of Levi.  Levi never judged Jean for being uncomfortable with killing, never criticized or scolded him for it.  He even told Jean that he couldn’t say, one way or the other whether Jean’s beliefs were right or wrong.  That Levi himself didn’t know the answer to that.  He never tried to convince Jean of anything.  He just told him the truth.  That his failure to kill had put the lives of his comrades in danger, including his own, and that it also caused Armin to have to bear the burden of killing another, one which should have been Jean’s own to bear.  All of that is absolutely true.  And it was really through this lack of judgment on Levi’s part that, I think, Jean was able to grow and expand his own views on killing, and adjust and allow for there to be circumstances in his world view which would justify taking another life.  He wasn’t forced by anyone to change his views.  He changed them based on experience and through Levi explaining to him that there is no definitive right or wrong answer to be found, and through Levi’s simply being honest with him.  He was telling Jean that it comes down to what one is willing to sacrifice in order to protect the things and people they value.  And Jean learned about himself that he’s willing and able to sacrifice more than he ever realized.

But it’s still a struggle, and something all of them, even at this point in the story, continue to battle themselves over.  We see Connie struggling in particular this chapter, looking anguished over what he had to do back at the port.  It’s only Levi who accepts that brutal reality of kill or be killed with a calm understanding, and I think this is probably because, unlike the rest of them, who all had peaceful, probably relatively easy and happy childhoods, without any exposure to violence or real cruelty, Levi, I think it can be safely assumed, probably took his first life while he was still a boy.  And doubtless, that was due to desperate circumstances.  Levi’s life has been one filled with uncertainty.  Growing up in extreme poverty, he never could have known with any certainty where his next meal would come from, or when.  Never knew with any certainty whether he could find proper shelter for the night, or a safe place to sleep.  Never knew with any certainty whether he would be assaulted, or robbed, or if someone would attempt to take his life.  Levi’s life has been one of desperation and a true, unforgiving struggle to simply survive.  And so while all of his comrades have seen and experienced the horrors of war with him, none of them can know with the same level of understanding that true kind of desperation of simply trying to live day to day, that kind of awful and overwhelming uncertainty and fear of not knowing if you’ll be alive from one day to the next.  It’s those kinds of experiences in life that really separate Levi from the rest of his comrades, and in a lot of ways, isolate him from them.  It’s why the extremity of their circumstances and the desperation of their situation in this final arc continually shocks and overwhelms them, but Levi regards it all with his usual, if deeply saddened, calm.

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There:  4.1

Author’s Note:  So I’m thinking of updating every other day or every two days? I tend to write compulsively and neglect my schoolwork lol.  Juggling this with work and school will be difficult if I post every day (I can’t help it though, I love updating every day!) So yeah.  Also if anyone has chapter filler ideas or prompts they want me to write out, message me or comment below! Back to the story!

..........................................

Xiao had just cleared a band of hilichurls when he came across the small stuffed bunny lying on the ground.  It was tattered and worn, but still held its original color.  He picked it up and dusted it off, glancing in the direction of the crying girl at the top of the hill. She had been crying over her stolen toy so Xiao took it upon himself to return it to her.  

He may or may not have destroyed a portion of the rice crop in doing so...but no matter! The girl was happy now.

"Thank you Mr. Adeptus!"  She gave him a toothy grin and hugged her bunny close.  "Thank you so much!"

"It was no trouble."  Xiao didn't return her smile and began to walk across the bridge that oversaw most of the rice crop.  What was it with mortal children and material possessions? Was it like him with his yaksha mask and spear?

"Mr. Adeptus sir, would you like something to eat?"

"Mortal food is not to my liking."  He continued to walk away despite hearing her disappointed 'oh.'  His eyes landed at the top of another hill, where the hall of Quince Village sat.  I should check on her Granny while I'm here.

"Welcome to my humble home!  How may I--" Granny's eyes widened significantly when she caught sight of Xiao.  "Oh my, it's been some time.  Is she alright? Has something happened?"

"Mm."  Xiao flicked his gaze around the building before he closed the distance.  "She's fine.  The Fatui will pose a significant problem.  They may come to you first."

"Oh," Granny rolled her eyes.  "Don't worry about me then, dear.  Just make sure she's safe.  I can handle the Fatui's interrogations just fine."

"There's no telling what tactics they may use or what they're after.  Make no mention of my interactions with you, nor how you found her.  It is for your own safety."

"Consider it done!  Now, would you like a cup of tea?"

...........................

"Wait, what?" You and the rest of the adventure team had returned to Quince Village on your request.  

Well...when you say 'the rest of the adventure team,' it was just you and Aether.  Diluc and Bennett had returned to Mondstat on your way here from Liyue Harbor.  After your little confrontation with Childe, he claimed there was unfinished business with the Fatui in the harbor and had to remain there.  You didn't believe it one bit.

"Yeah! Do you think he doesn't like me?" Lil Luo's shoulders drooped in sadness.  She held her tattered bunny tight against her chest.

"'An adeptus that doesn't smile," Aether met your eyes.  "That sounds like Xiao."

"W-well, when was he here?  When did this happen?"  You had to refrain from shaking her little shoulders for answers.

"U-um, maybe a week ago?  I saw him a couple more times after that, but he never smiled back at me..."

"Xiao," you whispered to yourself and scanned the fields for any sign of him.  "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Four days ago, I think."

"You want to look for him, don't you?"  Aether raised a smug brow.

"Can we?"  You pleaded.

"We're here on your request.  Might as well stay a bit, right?"

"Thank you so much!"

"You can just repay us with food," Paimon popped up and was practically drooling at her own imagination.  Aether nodded in agreement.

The three of you--correction, two of you-- climbed the hill to the village center while Paimon floated carefree alongside Aether.  The second you reached the top, you were greeted with a disturbing sight.

Fatui agents.

"W-what the hell?"  You instinctually grabbed the hilt of your sword, as did Aether.  "What are Fatui doing in Quince Village?"

"Paimon has no idea.  Let's get them!"

"Doesn't your Granny live here?" Aether sent you a worried look.

"Yes, she does."  You marched right up to the nearest agent and puffed out your chest.  "Excuse me, what's going on here? Why are you morons moving my Granny's stuff out of the house?"

"Who're you callin' morons?" The agent scoffed through his mask.  "Shouldn't you be in school or somethin'?  Scram.  Get out of here.  Damn kids."

"This is MY house," your blade pressed against his neck in a flash.  "Get off of my property."  Aether followed your lead and drew his weapon too.

"I'm afraid it isn't your home anymore," an all-too familiar deep voice flowed through the air. Zhongli shot the agent a look that caused him to leave the situation to the consultant.  "I sincerely apologize for not being in touch recently.  The funeral parlor has been quite backed-up lately thanks to Hu Tao's mismanagement."

"What are you doing here?" Paimon asked the question that was on all your minds.  "The funeral parlor is so far south of here."

"The Wangsheng Funeral Parlor serves all of Liyue," answered Zhongli.  His piercing eyes turned their attention to you and Aether.  "As you know, the parlor is partnered with the Fatui."

"And? That doesn't explain why you're here," you snarled.  Don't get anything mixed up; you were happy to see him.  But the Fatui at your house? Not as much.  

Zhongli released a short sigh and closed his eyes.  "We received a call from one of your neighbors.  It appears your grandmother died last night of a heart attack."

Something hard panged within your chest and it was suddenly difficult to breath.  "That's not...possible."

"Hey," Aether wrapped an arm around your shoulders as the world seemed to sway beneath your feet.  He slowly led you to the ground.

"That's horrible," Paimon muttered.  "Was it...painful?"

"Paimon!" Aether hushed.

"No.  It was rather quick.  She had not suffered long."  Zhongli knelt so that he was eye level with you.  "I had sent someone to meet up with you in Dihua Marsh, but it appears as though the messenger never met you.  My apologies for the oversight, dear friend."

"Then," you gulped, "why are the Fatui here?"

"Your grandmother had signed the house over to them a day or so before she passed."

"What? Why would she do that? She loves this house!"  Your tears dried before they had the chance to fall.  Your fists tightened as you struggled to determine who the enemy was.  Was it Zhongli?  He was technically Fatui if he worked with them.  Xiao could have been wrong about him.  "Who's in charge here?"

Zhongli almost appeared hesitant to answer.  Xiao managed to reach the grandmother in time, but it appears she still had to make some sort of arrangement to guarantee everyone's safety.  To think that Childe had somehow known to come here--

"Tch."  You stood up and brushed past Aether, heading directly toward the Fatui agent that had the audacity to tell a twenty year old to go back to school.  "Hey, dumbass!"  You gripped the collar of his coat and yanked him close.  "Tell me who's in charge here."

"Heh, want to fight your way out of a contract, eh?  Don't you worship the God of Contracts?  You're not gettin' your stupid house back."

"Tell me who sent you."

"A certain Harbinger," the agent taunted.

"Give me the name!"  You back-handed the masked agent hard enough to hurt him and split your knuckles wide open.  The blood splattered onto the wooden floor and soaked into his jacket.

"Hey, wait!"  Aether grabbed your shoulder.  Zhongli watched him do so.

"You're in luck, sweetheart.  You'd give quite the show badmouthing Childe."

"Wha--"  You stumbled backwards and knocked into Aether.  The two of you shared a look of shock, concern, and betrayal.  "This is all under Childe's jurisdiction?"

"Uh-huh," the agent lifted his mask slightly and wiped at his busted lip.  "He should be on his way back to Liyue Harbor by now, if you wanna try and take it up with him.  But I'm tellin' you he ain't gonna budge."

..........................

You stood alone in the rain.  Zhongli had arranged for a proper funeral and had refused to charge you for the provided services.  He had even managed to retrieve one of Granny's necklaces from the Fatui's grasp, and gave it to you.  He and Aether were alongside you, what...twenty minutes ago?  They decided to leave you alone in front of the new gravestone to grieve.  The funeral was simple, per your request to hold true to Granny's wishes.  The entire village had grieved with you.

"I'm sorry I came too late for a visit, Granny." The words came out robotic and emotionless.  The look on your face was blank.  You placed a small bouquet of glaze lilies on top of the stone; Zhongli had you sing to them before picking them.  "Things got busy, and Childe...well, I'm sure you met him, didn't you?"  You let out a dry bitter laugh that blended with the sound of raindrops.  "I love you.  Thank you for taking care of me even if I was a brat sometimes."

Could it be that you had been the cause of her death just like you had caused your parents'?  Just how much blood was on your hands?

You felt nothing yet everything at the same time.  Your eyes were dry.  After the initial shock, you hadn't shed a single tear.  Thus was your usual reaction to death; you were usually at peace with the idea of it.  If it was their time, it was their time.  But you were not convinced her death was caused by her heart.  

Childe.  Could he have resorted to such extremes to get the house? Or was it for something more?  Perhaps he was the true danger Xiao had warned you about.

Your chest ached, desperate to release the pent up storm of emotions whirling through you.  The wind picked up for a moment.  "Xiao?"  Your hoarse greeting was met with a grim-looking yaksha.  It was possible you were just imagining him in a time of need.  You hadn't seen him in a month now.

Xiao blinked and gave you a once-over as he stood beside you.  He had heard your sorrow like it was blaring in his ears.  His eyes fell to the gravestone, and his expression saddened further.  "She's dead." His question of disbelief sounded more like a tactless statement of fact.

"Yeah," you half-winced, half-scoffed at his remark.  "She's dead."  You knew all too well that he didn't mean any harm.  "Why're you standing in the rain?"

"I don't concern myself with the weather, but you should be inside.  Mortals are fragile."

"I don't particularly care at the moment." Your words cut through the rain like a blade of ice.  

She has lost all of her family now, Xiao realized.  He watched you with admiration at how strong you were acting even though it was clear you were trying not to break.

"I came back to visit and check in on her," you opened up after a few minutes of silence.  His glance towards you prompted you to continue.  "And then a little girl told me an adeptus had saved her toy bunny.  That was you, wasn't it?"

"Mm."

"Did you...see her?  My Granny?"

"I have spoken with her several times over the course of several years.  I did not think it would be the last time.  What happened?"

"Heart attack."  You swallowed.  "When I reached the house, the Fatui were clearing it out."  You caught the color draining from Xiao's face.  "What? Do you know something?"

"So my suspicions were correct," Xiao muttered distastefully.  He looked around the graveyard.  "You're sure they all left?"

"Yes.  Zhongli said that before she died she had signed a contract to hand the house over.  But she wouldn't do that so easily."

Satisfied with his scan of their surroundings, Xiao folded his arms across his chest.  "I told you I would inform you of our predicament when the time is right.  The time is now."

"After my Granny just died?"  Your undirected anger manifested at his words.  

"The Fatui are after the two of us."

"Why?"

"Our guess is they wish to create adepti soldiers or yakshas using the technique I used on you when you were a child."  Your eyes raised at 'our.'  Xiao's gaze flicked to you briefly.  "Zhongli."

"Wait, why would Zhongli be involved with this in the first place?"

"He is the former Lord of Geo, Rex Lapis--"

"Wait wait wait, he's what?!  But that's not possible, Rex Lapis is--"

"--Only a select few know his identity.  Do not go around telling."  You nodded, head spinning from all this new information.  "Childe was tasked with identifying and obtaining us.  If anyone gets their hands on an adeptus or your blood, it could spell the downfall of humankind."

"What exactly is my blood?  Why would they want me?"

"My blood runs through your veins."

"U-um...?"  You shifted uncomfortably at the thought.

"That is how I saved you," Xiao uncrossed his arms and faced you fully.  "It allows you to withstand more adeptal energy than the ordinary human, which is why I can be so close to you.  It also increases your body's healing capabilities.  It is the only reason you survived that day.  It is also the only reason you survived your lawachurl wound."

"...Why didn't you tell me this before?" You mumbled beneath your breath.  The rain hitting the earth nearly overtook the sound of your voice.  "We...We could have saved her."  Your anger leaked through your voice.  It wanted something to blame, something to lash out at.  You caught yourself before you could say or think something you didn't mean.  It was a heart attack.  Xiao is not to blame for this.  Childe is the enemy.

"Childe was listening in on our conversations.  I could not disclose this information to you so we would have the advantage to work in the dark against the him."  He stared down at the gravestone.  "I am...sorry.  I did not recognize the stress it would put her through. She was optimistic and happy when I last saw her."

You shook your head.  "I doubt it caused the heart attack.  I just want to know what they did to make her sell the house," your hands curled into fists.  "Childe will pay for this."

The two of you silently stood in the rain for some time before Xiao held his hand out to you.  "You will get sick if you stay out here longer.  Let us meet with the rest of the team."  You placed your injured hand in his, having forgot that it was aching the entire time.  Xiao's eyes narrowed at this, but he did not question you.  With your blood, it would heal by tomorrow morning.

[minisoysquares]

As fun as the events and ideas you posted about 19days would be, wouldn’t it also just bring in more negative stuff - like fandom in general has become a field of land mines and I fear that something that’s supposed to fun will turn into some sort of battle. Like how some people get extremely heated over any other ships outside of their fave ship and they cannot possibly have other ships except theirs, etc. The last thing anyone wants is for content creators to be targeted simply for making something they thought would be fun

(This ask and answer is about this post.)

First of all thank you so much for addressing such a big and valid concern. I agree that that has indeed happened in certain fandoms - I can say I've been in the thick of it and witnessed quite the warfare - but in others it has also brought fans and readers and content creators together even closer and tighter in a wonderful thriving community.

I have the feeling this'll get quite long so please proceed under the cut with that in mind.

I believe all things are potential harbingers of both discord and harmony. There will always be people who feel entitled and who want - even demand! the audacity! - authors and artists to create for their ships and their ships alone. And there will also always be people who can appreciate the writing and the art without judgemental treatment regarding the pairings/characters depicted, no matter their preferences.

All of that happens and will continue to happen, whether we go forward with these events or not. And yet authors will still write what they want to write, artists will still draw what they want to draw, graphic designers will still make the edits they want to make as well. What we could do, in this small and close knit fandom, is take in our hands this powerful rich opportunity and try our best to make a model of positivity out of it.

In these events, there would be no bashing or shaming allowed. The content created would be to be enjoyed by those who are attracted to it, and those who do not have a taste for that fanwork in particular would be asked to remain respectful. (As it should always be.) There would be no ship wars in these spaces. Discourse, hate-speech or anti-behaviour would not be tolerated by the moderators of the event.

Creators who indulged in it would be immediately disqualified. Any unnecessary commentary or complaints from the audience would be deleted and reported as spam. Anyone instigating conflict would be only painting a target on their back, really. Because most of us - I dare say - are only here to appreciate the brilliant artwork and fanfiction woven and crafted by the talented people who share it with us.

If it came to it and it escalated, this hellsite has several tools that can be put to use to that regard. Accounts could be blocked and/or even reported. They wouldn't be able to interact with the blogs created to run these events from then on. We would be able to create a black list and post it publicly so everyone else who wished to could simply block those unruly pesky accounts and remain at peace and free to enjoy themselves to their utmost.

Let us not forget that this is all fiction and it's all for fun. Everyone's allowed to have their own opinion, likes and dislikes. There simply is no need to step on anyone else and their interests to elevate them.

Let's exemplify, for the sake of clarity:

Do I personally ship A with B? Imagine I do not. I do not search for it. If I come across it? I scroll past it. Once or twice, I may even like - and even reblog - if it happens to catch my attention and it's well written/drawn! (I have tags along the lines of 'I don't ship it but' and 'look at this beautiful art' or 'drown in the power of these words.')

It's so easy to interact amongst ourselves without coming with pitchforks at one another. Know what actually needs effort? Being a meanie and a party popper! Who in their right mind wastes their time on things they don't care for? Dum dums, that's who! Of course, we're all dummies at times... and that's okay! Let's just not harass people or crash their fun while we're at it!

If nothing else: you wouldn't like if others did this or that to you, therefore don't do it to others. It's a simple concept to grasp.

Very important: in these events, every single piece would be explicitly and properly tagged and warned for right at the very top of each post, so there would be absolutely no excuses for anyone being nasty.

We would just have to be open to the experience. Enjoy our ships and let other enjoy theirs. We do not have to all like the same thing. That would be just boring. But we can cohabitate devoid of trouble in fandom. Each one of us just has to be respectful. No need to even be nice. No one has to compliment something they don't like. They also don't have to step on what others do.

Don't like a ship/character/theme? Don't read stories focused on it. Don't put down authors who write it or readers who enjoy it. Same for art. No need to shout about how awful it is just for the simple reason that it does not fit into your personal shipping preferences. It can still be still be a tasty and wonderfully baked cake, it's just that you're not fond of vanilla or strawberries. It's okay. There are all kinds of cake for everyone's tastes!

Further examples: If a ship happens to be a NOTP for me or I don't care for the character(s)? I filter the tags. All of them. Any and every tag I can think of. It's very easy to protect ourselves on Tumblr from content we do not wish to see. (My own list is huge and just as effective.) Filtering is incredibly important.

So go ahead and filter out the ships you can do without! Filter out porte-manteaux like Tianshan, Zhanyi, Qiucheng, Tianxi, Tianyi, Lishan, Litian, Liyi, Shantou, Polydays, (...) Filter out any ship tag that doesn't strike your fancy like Q x MGS, HC x JY's mom, (...) Filter out characters that aren't your cuppa tea like HT, HT's dad, SL, JY's mom, XH, (...)

Make it safe for yourself and for others. That way you won't rage at the sight of your NOTP, won't feel the compulsive need to trash the people who ship it, no one is hurt and everyone is happy!

There are many steps we could follow to prevent rotten eggs in our coop. And many more actions we could take to throw them out if need be. I firmly believe, however, that if we're all of the same mind everything would go well and with very few bumps along the way.

If we only ever feared the possible negative consequences of our actions, never taking the risk for the possible positive ones, we'd never get anything done. I say let's not let our beloved fandom stagnate or dry out. Let's incentivate and motivate and inspire! Let's share! Let's have fun!

Think of it in these terms: it wouldn't be a competition at all but rather a charity event. Performers and spectators coming together for a common good, raising content and spreading joy! There would be no winners or losers or prizes. What would matter would be good old-fashioned participation, both by providing content and/or consuming it.

It could also a good way to get people to express themselves more. Many content consumers tend to lurk or keep to themselves even if they like the content posts. (I used to be one myself and only a couple months ago started to come out of my shell.) I myself advocate for reblogging instead of liking - if you have to choose one or the other, I mean, why not do both? - and leaving a word on every single post I like and/or reblog. Sometimes I go nuts commenting, sometimes I leave a small note in the tags.

It doesn't matter how. Even if you're shy or introverted (*raises hand*) or don't know what to say I guarantee a single emoticon or a string of disordered letters symbolising incoherence will make the creator's day all the same. Getting feedback is so important and motivational for creators and also a great way for fandom members to keep in touch and support each other.

Additionally, if a person would like more of a certain type of content here are some healthy actions they could take: a) commission a creator and pay for it if they can; b) politely make a suggestion to a creator with an open ask box; c) post a prompt publicly for possible interested creators to use; d) do it yourself and share it with others!

This turned out into more of a "behavioural guidelines" thing than I'd have liked. I am not in any way whatsoever telling anyone what to do. This is what I do, and it works wonders for me. I stay completely out of toxic arguments and in on all the goodies. I'm able to fully enjoy my fandoms. And isn't that what we all want?

Thank you again for sharing your thoughts with me. And I apologise for the long rant!

Of course, this is only my personal stance on the issue. I did go for a survey first exactly for this end, to get their opinions on the subject and see if it would be worth a shot. I shall hope many other people will think as I do, but I will wholly respect those who don't.

[that-bi-bitch-writes]

A Cursed Reality- JJk x Male Reader (Ch.5)

This chapter is a little longer than usual and very dialogue heavy. (also plenty of swearing). Sorry if the scene is disappointing but I'm not super good at fight scenes and I'm hoping to develop them as I go on. Also if I made [Name] OP then everything would be over too quickly.

Let me know what you think about the chapter in the comments (or the tags!!) enjoy

Last || Next

Chapter Five:

“Kugisaki-chan. Be honest with me. On a scale of Gojo to Yuji how stupid do you think I am?”

“Eh? Do you really want me to answer that?”

“... Yes”

“If I had to pick an idiot I’d say Gojo-sensei. He at least has the brain power to understand jujutsu. I mean he’s a childish and immature old man who ignores what’s staring him right in his face but he wouldn’t ask me what animal the pink panther was.”

[Name] uttered out a confused thank you before thinking ‘I have got to stop starting conversations like this’

He almost never gets the answer he wants. It’s like as soon as he asks the question he becomes humanized and not a mysterious special grade sorcerer a few seconds from ending someone’s life for finishing off the fruit snacks. (Based on a true story. Gojo can confirm.)

“You’re welcome. Why’d you ask anyway?”

“Actually I think I’ll jinx it if I talk about it. Plus I don’t want you to think poorly of your ‘superiors’ but let’s just say there are people plotting behind my back and I’m wondering if I have idiot written across the top of my head”

“Okay... “

“On a lighter note, do you think any of the other first years know how close we are?”

“I was asked whether or not the Pink Panther was a lion and spoken to in 6 word sentences just yesterday. You’re the only person I can hang out with. The other two are people I spend time with”

“What about Maki?”

“That’s totally different. You should know you have a totally different relationship with Gojo and Inumaki.”

“Explain”

“You and Gojo fight and tease each other like siblings or something and you and Inumaki spend time alone. Together. And sometimes you like go out and eat food and stuff”

“You make it sound like we’re dating”

“You’re not?”

“No”

“Hmm”

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

[Name] absolutely hates talking on the phone and everyone knows this. Facetime has been like a happy medium whenever people need to get in touch with him but it’s still extremely annoying to have to have a face to face conversation over the phone.

“Why are you calling me Gojo?”

“My precious little [Name] I was just checking up on you to see how your day off is going?”

“It was going fine until you called and interrupted my peace”

“Don’t be like that [Name] I know you miss me”

“As if- No puppy- WAIT!”

Gojo furrowed his eyebrows “[Name]-chan?”

“Hmm?”

“Since when do you have a pet?”

“I made Fushiguro give me one of his divine dogs”

“Aww. That’s so sweet of Megumi. But you can’t keep calling him puppy. Give him a real name”

“He does have a real name I call him yu-yu”

“So who were you calling Puppy?”

“...Yuji”

“.....”

“Don’t make it weird”

“It’s already weird”

“Look me in the camera and tell me he doesn’t remind you of like a golden retriever or somethin”

“You made several points but still”

“It’s supposed to be derogatory”

“It’s a pet name”

“He’s hyper, adorable and excitable. I’m pointing out the obvious. Me calling him puppy has the same energy as calling someone four eyes”

“It does not”

“....I have to go Yuji just found out about Megan Thee Stallion”

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

“Are you a Fall out boy emo or like Lorde sad boy?”

“That’s a loaded question”

“It most definitely is” [Name] replied holding back laughter “But I can like, vibe to either one so just play whatever music you like and I’ll enhance the atmosphere.”

“...Okay”

That day was definitely the most relaxed Fushiguro had been in weeks, and [Name] learned some very interesting things about Fushiguro’s…. tastes. They definitely had some things in common.

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

“You’re sending me on a mission”

“Yes”

“Alone?”

“[L.Name] you’re a special grade sorcerer. You can handle a first-grade curse on your own”

“I most definitely can, but so can others. Both Gojo and Okkotsu are away on missions. Are you telling me in your expert wisdom, you’re making the choice to dispatch all of the Special Grade sorcerer’s for first-grade curses? What if something happens on home turf.”

“I assure you if there’s an attack on the school Principal Yaga can handle the threat.”

“I’m not talking about the school.”

There was a brief silence in which [Name] just stared “You have your orders”

“I do”

And [Name] absolutely did have his orders. Ones that aligned with his personal feelings. You see, a little while ago Gojo ordered [Name] to protect Yuji. And if anything were to happen to the precious angel, it would be the one day that both he and Gojo were away. Yaga cares more for the rules than Gojo or [Name]. That was one thing [Name] didn’t like about both Yaga and Nanami. They cared about the kids, but only to an extent. In their eyes the kids would die out or grow older but rules wouldn’t change, and Yuji’s life mattered less to them than the stagnant outdated rules.

The larger problem was whether or not [Name] was willing to face the consequences for not following orders from the “respected” higher ups. Then there was the whole issue of actual people being in danger and that wouldn’t go over well, not with the old assholes nor with [Name]’s conscience.

‘I fucking hate Satoru.’ [Name] thought as he set out to do actual work. Ever since he got sent on that mission he found himself caring for more and more people. If he was going to exorcise the curse and return to make sure Yuji and the others first years were all safe, he would have to race against the clock. There was no doubt in his mind that something was going to happen today and he knew Sukuna wouldn’t let Yuji die without a fight.

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

“What the actual fuck is going on anymore?? THREE FIRST YEARS WERE SENT TO DEFEAT A WHAT?” [Name] yelled into the phone

“A cursed womb”

“Say it as it really is Ijichi! They were sent in to fight a fucking special grade curse. They’re barely equipped to fight a second grade curse, and it isn’t as if having you there is going to help them much”

Ijichi flinched at that. [Name] only went for low blows when he was pissed, and it was obvious pretty soon someone would have to face his wrath. And because he knew what was best for his safety and peace of mind, Ijichi answered [Name]’s question before he asked

“I warned them not to engage a special grade so they should be fine until you get here. I lowered the curtain myself so you’ll be able to get in. They’re at Eishu Juvenile Detention Center”

“I’ll be there in 10”

[Name] would probably make it in less time than that but he always made sure to be careful with making promises. There was always a chance he would run into some issues on the way there. Grabbing his things, he set out for the detention center hoping Nobara and Megumi were okay. Yuji was stronger than those two, though Megumi could be a suicidal idiot at times. If things got anymore serious they’d let Sukuna out, but that would be a whole other problem.

“Ijichi, i’m here”

“...[Name]”

“What?”

“Kugisaki is hurt. I'm driving back to the school.”

“If you’re driving back, why is the curtain still up?”

“Fushiguro went back in to deal with Sukuna who’s more than likely already taken care of the curse I recommend-”

[Name] hung up. “Fucking rule followers and their precious higher ups. And look what a mess I have to take care of” he said as he looked up at the curtain. He sighed and then walked through

“I don’t feel a curse- is that megumi” [Name] thought aloud

“He ain’t coming back” Sukuna teased “Don’t worry I’m in a good mood. Let’s talk”

“I’m not feeling particularly chatty” [Name] called out. Fushiguro and Sukuna turned to the second year in shock

“Fushiguro you should go”

“No. I’m not leaving you alone. And besides it’s my responsibility-”

“Do you think I’m here to kill Yuji?”

“...”

“I’m here to rescue your sorry asses. I was sent on a mission earlier and came back in a hurry to make sure you were okay. I’m a little sad I don’t get to meet the curse that hurt poor Kugisaki-chan but he’ll make do” [Name]’s voice became darker the longer he went on

“My fighting skill is nowhere near the level of Maki’s, but my cursed technique on the other hand… Don’t worry, Yuji’ll make it out alive”

Fushiguro hesitated. He trusted [Name], it was Sukuna who was the problem. The curse was cunning and took advantage of Fushiguro’s hesitation to enact his plan

“It seems he’s having a hard time changing back” Sukuna started “This must be a side effect of using me without restrictions. It’s most likely only a matter of time though… So i’ve been thinking about my next move.”

Before [Name] or Fushiguro could realize, Sukuna had ripped Yuji’s heart out, smiling as blood dripped out of his mouth and the gaping hole in his chest. The two of them froze. If he were at his best [Name] would’ve been able to stop Sukuna from continuing to monologue or even from swallowing another of his fingers. But he had defeated a first grade curse, dealt with the higher ups and rushed to the first years’ rescue within 3 hours.

Fushiguro seemed to follow the conversation as [Name] just stood there, his ears ringing as if he were standing too close to a bomb that went off.

“Itadori will return” Megumi said confidently “Even if it means his death. He’s that kind of guy”

And Megumi was right, [Name] knew of it. So he made a sacrifice. Fushiguro would have to deal with Sukuna while [Name] figured out what to do next. With two fingers Sukuna might’ve been able to resist [Name]’s compulsion. ‘No’ he thought ‘it would take a few more fingers before he was that strong.’

“Stop”

The both of them froze in place. There was a trail of blood running down Yuji’s chest but [Name] could tell Sukuna had done more damage to Megumi than Megumi had done to Yuji’s body

“Stay out of my way Megumi” [Name] said before looking in Sukuna’s eyes “Yuji, if you can hear me. I’m sorry”

“This brat’s not worth the effort” Sukuna smirked. He may not have been able to move but he was going to try and tempt the second year into losing his composure.

“Choke”

Sukuna began to gargle on the blood that was supposed to be pumping through Yuji’s body. Choking, he fell on the ground. Megumi’s eyes widened and he moved to say something but [Name] shot him a desperate, angry look picking up Yuji’s discarded heart shoving it into the empty cavity.

“Heal Him”

“It’s too late [Name]”

“Yuji?? No! NO! YUJI! SWITCH BACK I CAN MAKE HIM HEAL YOU”

“Megumi. [Name]. And Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei. Well I guess I don’t have to worry about him. Live a long life okay?” Yuji smiled as tears dripped onto his face

“I Heard A Rumor” [Name] whispered “That nothing happened and you were gonna be okay”

“What a nice rumor senpai” “Yuji whispered back before the light in his eyes faded

Fushiguro laid a hand on [Name]’s shoulder looking up to the sky as he tried to keep from crying. [Name] let out a pained scream shocking Fushiguro. Megumi wrapped his arms around [Name] trying to pull him up and meeting resistance Fushiguro just walked toward the exit before stopping. Without looking back he said “I’ll send Gojo to collect you both” and then walked off.

Gojo did come back to pick up the body and the shell shocked [Name] but when he showed up there was nothing there. As if the land behind the two had just up and walked away. Gojo wasn’t informed of [Name]’s rumor but assumed the boy did it out of rage. He was the only one able to wipe a location off the map so cleanly. What he didn’t realize that if the land had returned to its natural state as if nothing had ever happened, Yuji was bound to be okay

[2am-theswifthour]

The 8 Theory-Folklore’s Commentary on Youth

Yesterday, I took note of @taylorswift​ and her careful attention to the number 8.

“Not a lot going on at the moment” had 8 words. The 8th track is “august,” which is also the 8th month in the year. She has 8 deluxe editions of her album. Many attributed this to Folklore being Taylor’s 8th album. I thought it meant either a.) we needed to pay very close attention to track #8 or b.) that 8 references infinity, a.k.a “forever and ever.”

To my surprise, I was actually selling Taylor Swift short.

When listening to the album, there’s a lot of back and forth in emotion and circumstance. I was confused about the order, especially when the strikingly sobering “hoax” followed the self-aware almost-tranquility of “peace.” Then it hit me. There are two schools of thought going on.

There are 16 tracks on Folklore (excluding the bonus track none of us have heard). 16/2=8. This means there are 2 equal emotional song threads on the album. In other words, you can get two drastically different lessons listening to each group of 8.

When you separate the even numbered tracks from the odd numbered tracks you get the following:

Odd

the 1

the last great american dynasty

my tears ricochet

seven

this is me trying

invisible string

epiphany

peace

Even

cardigan

exile

mirrorball

august

illicit affairs

mad woman

betty

hoax

Odd Interpretation:

Starting with “the 1” and “the last great american dynasty,” the lyrics are very upfront in showing that the protagonists are making fully intentioned mistakes. “the 1” says, “in my defense, I have none for never leaving well enough alone” (I see you “ME!” reference). In “the last great American dynasty” it says, “she had a marvelous time ruining everything.” These characters’ folly is their youth-induced selfishness. They’re casual in the harm they cause because they distance themselves from it. They’re fine with what they don’t look at closely. When you’re young, you make a mess of things in service of YOUR need. Your need for companionship. Your need for the thrill of danger. Your need to make your mark, to be somebody, to leave something behind. The marvel of the excitement and the chase and the very vitality of teens to 20-somethings’ shenanigans blinds us to the scale of our destruction…

…until you have no choice but to face the consequences of your recklessness.

The next track, “my tears ricochet” is not your average track 5. It functions as a pivoting point. Now our narrator is the hurt party, the one baring the brunt of callous treatment. Fickle mistreatment is no longer so casual. Now it’s a torment, and the tormentor learns the scale of their damage. So much so, that they get burned too. They learned their lesson at a terrible price, but what’s most important is that they learned.

“seven” is a long-overlooked memory revisited. In this picture of naïve innocence, the narrator tells of their childish belief in the impossible. Through magic and play pretend and fantasy they are invincible. They have all the control in the world to control the world they live in. Obviously, this is a flawed perspective that everyone eventually grows out of. Fairy tales don’t solve real problems. The point is that their sense of self-importance is in service of a stronger moral compass than the first two songs. If we accept our responsibility to others, to do what we can to ensure their welfare, are we not better and more satisfied people for it?

“this is me trying” hears that lesson and attempts to walk the walk. Part of being responsible to your fellow human is taking accountability when you fumble. The narrator doesn’t know what to say or how to make it right. What they do know is that they’re here, they’ve put the bottle down, and that they’re willing to try what’s necessary to heal what they’ve hurt.

“invisible string” gives us the reward we’ve been waiting for. The narrator says, “cold was the steel of my axe to grind for the boys who broke my heart, now I send their babies presents.” This is someone who has gone from lashing out in anger at a partner from a burned relationship to genuinely wishing them well in their next stage in life. It’s a powerful testament when you can recognize that youth drives us all to make hurtful decisions and that no one is immune to change if they truly want to change. When you let the anger and lies go, the strings that tied you to them fade away. All that’s left is the string you want to hold onto. The string tied to the one who matters, because you’ve made the conscious decision to deduce that their worth as a person should equal yours. It’s a painful path to traverse through, but when you do it’s all worthwhile. That’s why the narrator can say with confidence “hell was the journey but it brought me to heaven.”

In any other album, a song like “invisible string” would be the quintessential emotional payoff for this story arc. However, because this album is a masterpiece, we have a different payoff point in “epiphany.” “epiphany” takes us out of the world of a romantic relationship. We hear descriptions of war and nurses dealing with the despair of this international pandemic. This point in this emotional thread is that it powerfully declares it’s not enough to do no harm nor is it enough to just empathize with your romantic partner. You MUST show your responsibility to your fellow man. Stand beside them. Empathize with them. See them as whole human beings. Do good by them. In other words, it is our duty to do right by everyone, for everyone bleeds, loves, and dies.

The 8-song selection ends with “peace.” The song begins by saying that their, “coming-of-age” has come and gone.” I believe this (along with “invisible string”) to be the most overtly “Taylor Swift” track in perspective. This is her speaking as herself. She lets us know that she’s grown through taking her mistakes, and the mistakes she learned through folklore, into account. She is overly aware of her flaws and feels she pales in comparison to her partner. Rather than allow those insecurities to manifest in unchecked rage or resentment, she takes it as a challenge for herself to do better. She knows she can never give him complete peace (due to inside and outside factors), but she can make the choice to give him unselfish promises and embrace the entirety of her partner’s life. This is a person who has learned the value of selflessness in love and life, which makes this whole thread worth everything.

Even Interpretation:

“cardigan” foreshadows the eventual failure of the even path. The odd interpretation I just described culminated in the narrator finding their place with “the one” because they’ve left everything petty and casually cruel behind. In “cardigan” it says “chase two girls, lose the one.” On top of this directly referencing the first track, it also implies the partner’s self-destruction. By toying with two girls, James is losing “the one.” I don’t think losing “the one” means that you keep one of the two of them. I think it means that engaging in that kind of behavior makes you into a person that isn’t ready, or worthy, of “the one” that they are meant to be with forever. Meeting and keeping “the one” has to require each partner to love themselves and their partner wholly, truly, and selflessly. They can’t be a cardigan you pick up and only wear on the weekends. They must be a wholehearted commitment.

“exile” shows the blowout from “cardigan.” The two couldn’t stay together, and Bon Iver’s (character’s) toxicity comes out full force. He thinks her new man is lesser than him. He’s prepared to throw punches despite being at fault over a hundred times. He’s seen the film before, and he didn’t like the ending because it didn’t work out for him. He wants her under his thumb, not having learned from his prior relationships that that just can’t work. They leave out the side doors, neither fully ready to confront the problems head on.

“mirrorball” is daring in its shift of focus. While all of the tracks I’ve mentioned thus far have dealt, in some way, with the problems that result from a young person’s selfishness, this song doesn’t do that. This song illustrates an extreme that young people participate in at the opposite end of the spectrum; radical selflessness. To be selfless means that you should never allow something that harms someone else to happen just because it benefits you. Young people, girls in particular, are often groomed to interpret selflessness differently. Their definition is synonymous with accommodation. Change your looks, change your personality, don’t object, and embody what your partner wants so that they’re happy. That’s why the symbol is the mirrorball in the song. It reflects everything in the room but itself. By explicitly not factoring in their own sense of self-respect in a relationship, they are unknowingly and tragically enabling their partner’s mistreatment. To be clear, that doesn’t mean abuse is their fault if they have low self-esteem. It’s not, even remotely. But not having the capacity to defend your self-worth is what keeps so many drawn into toxic relationships there for so long. This radical selflessness manifests itself in the other woman too. In “august” it explicitly says that she was living on the, “hope of it all” and that she would cancel plans in the name of a potential hookup with someone who was never hers. The idea of radical selflessness culminates in “illicit affairs” when one of the women deals with their addictive compulsion toward someone who treats them like a cheap lay. Their relationship is a secret that leaves her feeling used in parking lots and as though any trace of her is gone. These three songs have taken the desperate hopelessness of “Abigail gave everything she had to a boy who changed his mind” to the extreme.

Many have speculated that “mad woman” is a commentary on the Taylor/Scooter conflict and I’m inclined to agree. However, if I were to assign an interpretation that goes with my theory, I would say that “mad woman” details the unforeseen consequences of a tormentor’s abuse. When a toxic partner performs bad behavior, their expectation is that they will always be found in the right. After all, Taylor noted on her previous album that for men, “everyone believes [them].” So in the face of lies about her character that everyone believes, she gets rightfully angry. Her anger is their affirmation. For many, a woman being angry on her own behalf is “crazy” and “irrational.” What kind of a society have we set up? A society that promotes women to lack self-worth and, should they find it, they’ll meet a whole other exile.

“betty” is our complete look into James’ perspective. On its own, it sounds like a big romantic gesture to get behind. However, this path is very clear to put “cardigan” first. “cardigan” says, “I knew you’d miss me once the thrill expired and you’d be standin’ in my front porch light.” Lo and behold, in “betty” he shows up to her party when she doesn’t want to see him and asks if she would, “kiss [him] on the porch in front of all [her] stupid friends.” It’s an absolute punch in the gut. Betty knows in “cardigan” that he would come back after he had his fun with another girl, but that she would take him back when he saw momentary value in her again. James in “betty” claims he didn’t know anything, but that’s just an excuse. He knew what he was doing, he knew that he would be able to pick up her broken pieces with ease, he knew he could isolate her from her friends, and he knew that he could capture the imperfect “comfort” of that cardigan again.

This path ends in the final even-numbered song, “hoax.” In the odd numbers, “peace” shows a lesson learned. This even path shows what happens when we don’t learn. The seeds of youth-driven mistakes have led us here. The narrator wants nothing outside the pain of this faithless love. Without learning what it means to be selfless, the traumas of these young relationships create a never-ending cycle. The narrator knows that the “love” is a “hoax” but doesn’t care because that’s all they have. There’s no point to wanting anything else. Without the perspective of age, of truly going beyond that, they’re stuck in a truly dark place.

Final Thoughts:

Taylor Swift is an exceptional artist for a lot of reasons. No one makes albums this good this far into their career. Most artists teeter off after two or three because they retread. Their audience inevitably gets bored of them e same thing time and again. Repeating themselves is something that a lot of artists do because they want to go with the formula of what works. With Folklore, Taylor has done what few artists have dared to do. She’s allowed her discography as a place to uncompromisingly expand her worldview and challenge her listeners. She’s not reiterating previous lessons to make another quick sale. Instead, every album prior has been a steppingstone. As she said at the Time 100 Gala, she has truly turned her lessons into her legacy. From a variety of narrators, she has brought what I decree to be her best album to date. This wouldn’t happen for anyone else 8 albums into their career, but she’s done it by devoutly embracing age’s wisdom.

Learn from the highs and lows presented in these paths. As all good folklore does, it teaches us how to live better. It is our duty to live selflessly and with self-assured dignity. These writings, I have no doubt, will become integral to the legend that is Taylor Alison Swift.