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#this is also on me for never being able to say no to doing something
cressidagrey · 2 days
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Brighten Up the Sky
This started as a prompt from the lovely @satiresunflower, (though it is pretty much unrecognisable from the prompt she actually gave. She did give me permission to go wild though, so this is what you get lol) 
This starts in Chapter 14 of ACOWAR, so some of the sentences are taken verbatim from the original text. I did change it into 3rd person, because me trying to write in 1st person never ends well. I also think there is a longer story in this particular idea, but quite frankly, I don’t have it in me to write it right now. 
Summary:
A Mating Bond between her younger sister and the Night Court’s shadowsinger was the last thing Feyre had expected to spring up…but then, maybe it did make sense. 
Warning:
Public Displays of affection, kinda Nesta bashing, but like...she has her reasons?, Cassian being annoying
(Lovely dividers thanks to @cafekitsune)
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“Where are my sisters?” Feyre asked, the thought clanging through her head as jarring as a pealing bell. 
Her sisters
Rhys paused for just a moment, his hand slipping from her hair as his smile faded. “Elain and Nesta are at the House of Wind.” He straightened, swallowing. “I can—take you to them.” Every word seemed to be an effort.
But he would, Feyre realized. He’d shove down his need for her and take her to them, if that was what she wanted. Her choice. It had always been her choice with him.
Feyre shook my head. She wouldn’t see them—not yet. Not until she was steady enough to face them.
“They’re well, though?”
His hesitation told her enough. 
“They’re safe,” Rhys answered quietly. 
"That’s good," Feyre murmured as she took a deep breath in an attempt to calm the swirling, churning emotions inside her chest.
Her sisters...her sisters were safe. That was something. That was enough. For now. 
Only then she realised something else.
“You said Nesta and Elain are at the House of Wind,” Feyre pointed out, her hands clenching, her heart beating faster. “Where’s Alana?” she demanded, singling out her younger sister…singling out her half sister. 
The result of their father’s dalliance with a maid during her mother’s pregnancy with Feyre. Alana was just 6 months younger than her. Alana’s mother had died during childbirth…so their father had been saddled with another squealing infant that his wife was ill-pleased with. 
Nesta liked to say that that affair had eventually killed their mother. Feyre thought it to be ridiculous. It had been a fever and Alana had nothing to do with it, because she had been a literal child…and Alana had lost her voice to the very same fever. Feyre could still remember her singing like a pealing bell when she had been a child…and then…then she hadn’t been able to anymore. Even talking was near impossible for Alana, her throat unable to produce any sounds. 
Even as Alsna had been thrown into the cauldron…Her mouth had been open in a silent scream, but no sound had come out of her mouth. 
A shudder ran through her at that memory.
Alana. Her sweet, quiet younger sister. The sister that always smiled too sweetly and saw too much with those sharp eyes of hers. 
"Where is Alana?" She repeated. The silence in the room hung thick in the air as Rhys continued to hesitate.
A prickle of unease started to make its way up her spine. 
“Rhys, where is Alana?!” she demanded, her voice rising. 
“She’s safe, I swear,” Rhys hurried to promise her. “She’s not staying with Nesta and Elain but she’s safe. She should be here soon. I think…everything else…you should ask her about that.”
His words did little to soothe her worries, the unease that now clawed up her spine stronger.
“You’re not telling me something,” she pointed out, her brow furrowing. “Rhys, what are you not telling me?” 
She thought back to the last time she had seen her sister…thought back to her being poured out onto the wet stone floor from the cauldron…not a noise had come from her…nothing. She had…She had been poured out of the cauldron and had just kneeled on that stone floor as they had forced Nesta into the cauldron after her. 
She hadn’t…she had been…absent. Like the cauldron had taken too much from her. 
And then, in the moment as Mor had pushed Lucien away from Nesta and Elain, Feyre had seen Alana lunge. 
Not for the King of Hybern. Not even for Mor, who would have been closer to her…But for Cassian and Azriel for some reason. She wasn’t sure what had been Alana’s reasoning. Wasn’t sure what…Rhys had grasped all three of them and winnowed them away. 
Her heart was now hammering.
“What did you do with her?” Feyre demanded, her voice growing panicked. “What did you do with Alana? Why isn’t she staying with Nesta and Elain?” Feyre asked, her voice forcedly calm. “Rhys, what is going on?”
There was another moment of hesitation, another moment of silence, before Rhys finally replied. "She just…opted to stay elsewhere."
Those words did little to reassure her.
"Where?" Feyre pressed, her eyes narrowed. 
Rhys sighed. “How about you get into that bath that should be ready by now?” he suggested. “I’ll…tell you some of what happened. But I do think that some of the things should come from Alana and not from me,” he pointed out drily. 
The last thing she wanted to do right now was take a bath, the last thing she wanted to do was to be pacified with pretty words and nice things. That was the last thing she wanted.
But...he was right. She needed to be clean. 
Feyre growled at her mate, but stomped into the bathing chamber, stripping out of her clothing. Her fingers were near-black with dirt and caked blood. 
Rhys snapped his fingers, and her skin was nearly instantly pristine again. “Tell me what happened,” Feyre said flatly, as she sunk into the blood-hot water. “Why isn’t Alana staying at the House of Wind?”
Rhys was silent for a moment as he looked at her, his mouth in a grim line.
Then he let out a deep sigh, sitting down on the edge of the bathing tub. “A lot of things happened,” Rhys said drily. “But the biggest reason why Alana isn’t at the House of Wind is mostly that…I can’t guarantee Nesta’s safety, if she keeps spewing some of her venom in Alana’s direction.”
Feyre’s brow shot up at that, her heart skipping a beat. “What?” she demanded. “Rhys, what are you talking about?” That didn’t sound—didn’t sound like...
To say that Nesta and Alana didn’t get along was an understatement. Nesta gave Alana the fault for seemingly everything and Alana…well, she played deaf. And even more mute than she normally was. Even when Feyre‘s sister hadn’t been able to talk, she had been more than able to communicate if she wanted to, either with her expressive face, or her hands. And still, Alana had pretended like it wasn’t happening. Elain was no better to her…Elain liked to ignore Alana’s very existence.
But Alana wouldn’t have done anything…Alana wouldn’t have…
“Alana doesn’t lose her temper,” Feyre said carefully as she looked at Rhys. “She doesn’t.”
“She didn’t,” Rhys said drily. “My spymaster did.” 
A puzzled frown crossed over her face at that. “Azriel?” Feyre asked, her eyebrows furrowing. “What did he do?”
Azriel had lost his temper with Nesta? 
“If Cassian hadn’t been there, I think Azriel would have torn out Nesta’s throat with his bare hands,” Rhys said with a grimace. “It was…bad.”
Feyre’s jaw dropped.
Azriel, tearing out Nesta’s throat? With his hands? That…that didn’t sound like him. Not at all.
“I...” Feyre had no idea what to say. Why would Azriel have done that?  Feyre couldn’t…Of course, she knew that Azriel was capable of great violence, but he had never…she had never seen him lose his temper with a member of his family. Had never even through that that was a possibility. Whatever Nesta had said, must have been…
If he had gotten this angry on Alana’s behalf…What exactly had been said?
"What did Nesta do? What did she say?" Feyre asked, her voice hard. "What did she say to warrant that reaction from Azriel?" 
Rhys grimaced, shaking  his head. “You don’t want to know,” he said, his voice low. “Trust me, you do not want to know what she said. It's...complicated."
"Complicated, how?" Feyre demanded as she towelled herself off, walking back into the bedroom and pulled on comfortable clothing, her worry mounting. "What could possibly be so bad that you don't want to tell me?" 
If it was bad enough that Rhys didn't want to tell her what exactly happened...what exactly had been said.
"Well, that…” Rhys trailed off.
"Tell me," Feyre demanded again. "What exactly happened after…Hybern?"
Her mate gave in, holding out his hand and she joined him sitting on the edge of their bed.
Their bed.
She was home. Finally.
Rhys sighed.
“After Hybern…Mor dropped Nesta and Elain off at the House of Wind and then came back to the Townhouse. I had…I had Azriel and Cassian, and Alana too” Rhys said quietly and Feyre swallowed. Azriel and Cassian were healed. Rhys had told her that…but somehow she hadn’t been able to believe it…until she had seen it. 
“Amren tried to stop the blood flow from the literal hole in Azriel’s chest. I didn’t notice at first…Alana was kneeling at Azriel’s side…covered in his blood…holding his head on her lap…” Rhys’s violet eyes seemed to be far, far away, as he nearly shuddered, just thinking about it. “Azriel was…in and out of consciousness…but he was just…he was just holding onto her.”
Feyre’s heart was lodged in her throat. Azriel, nearly dead, was just…holding Alana. Her head was spinning as her mind worked hard to comprehend this. 
“The mating bond snapped for them,” Rhys finally said quietly. 
Feyre’s eyes widened. Her mouth went suddenly dry.
The…the mating bond? Alana and Azriel? Mates?
“The mating bond,” she echoed faintly. “The…the mating bond.” 
Feyre was quite sure that her jaw dropped. And that she stared at Rhys like he had just grown a second head.
“Azriel and Alana?” Feyre asked, unable to believe that. Azriel and Alana?! The brooding shadowsinger and spymaster of the Night Court and her youngest sister?
Azriel, who seemed to have a thing for Mor and had never looked at another female as far as Feyre was aware?
Rhys winced at her look.
"Yes, I know," he said quietly, wincing. "That was…my reaction too. I didn’t see it coming. I don’t think that anyone saw this coming...especially not Azriel." 
Feyre’s mind was racing.
Azriel and Alana. Mates.
She couldn’t…she never would have imagined it. Never seen it coming. Not in a thousand years. 
“Have they…” she wasn’t even sure what she was asking.
“Three days late,” Rhys said with a sigh. “They were not willing to wait.” 
“Three day?!” Feyre demanded. As far as she knew, Alana had never even entertained the thought of a suitor. Not that there had been any men that had looked over the fact that she was a bastard…and mute. They had never bothered to look further and Alana had never fussed about it either. 
"Three days," Rhys repeated. "The moment Azriel was well enough to be mobile again, they mated."  Rhys shuddered, his face scrunching up in distaste. “They are insufferable. The both of them.” 
"What do you mean, insufferable?" Feyre asked. A million thoughts were running through her head. Alana and Azriel…mates. They mated. 
"They could not stay away from each other," Rhys said, shuddering again. "They were...touchy. All the time. And so very...cutesy and sweet with each other. Gods, they are nauseating."
Feyre’s eyebrows rose at that. Alana and Azriel. Touchy? Cutesy and sweet? She could barely even imagine it. Alana...and Azriel. Being affectionate. 
"She’s sitting on his lap constantly," her mate groaned, rubbing his eyes hard. "And he is just…constantly touching her. I don’t even think that they have gone a whole five minutes without touching each other."
"And the looks," her mate continued drily. "Gods, they are exchanging these  looks. You would have thought that they are the soppiest, lovesick couple in existence. I did not ever need to see Azriel making heart-eyes at Alana. That was…traumatising."
Feyre pressed her hand to her mouth to muffle a snort. Azriel, making heart-eyes? That was a sight that she could not quite imagine. She…she hadn’t even thought that Azriel was even…capable of making heart-eyes. 
"Cassian and Mor kept poking fun at them. At every opportunity, which they definitely got often. Alana just…ignored them. But Azriel…" Rhys’ lips curled into a smirk. "He was not as amused as Alana by their teasing. He kept threatening violence every five minutes."
Feyre’s eyes widened at that, a laugh escaping her.
Azriel threatening violence for every five minutes that someone teased him about his new mate? She could not picture that either. 
"Cassian started making kissy faces at Alana just to see if Azriel would lose his temper," her mate said, a broad smile on his face. "And let me tell you, he nearly clawed out Cas’ eyeballs for it."
"So she's staying here?" Feyre asked carefully.
Rhys shook his head, his expression growing more serious. "She's at Azriel's house," he explained with a sigh. "It's...the cauldron left her with some...abilities. She’s a daemati…of sorts, at least,” Rhys said with a grimace. “We are still trying to figure out…how exactly it works. You and me…we need to concentrate if we want to read somebody’s thoughts. Alana…she said it was like she was standing in the middle of a market square and everybody is shouting at her,” Rhys said quietly. “We haven’t yet found anybody with shields solid enough to keep her out.”
Feyre swallowed at that. Alana, a daemati…of sorts. Having no control over whose thoughts she heard. No control over how loud everything was. 
“It’s like every mental wall, doesn’t even exist for her," Rhys said with a sigh. "Being around Amren gives her a headache too apparently. Azriel and Cassian are the most relaxing to be around according to her. There minds seem to be...even, analytical."
It sounded like a living hell. No control, no shields. Nothing.
“Is she…” Feyre’s voice was quiet. “Is she doing alright? Considering everything that happened.” 
“She’s fine,” Rhys promised her. “Alana is probably doing the best of them all,” Rhys said, something like amusement bleeding into his voice. “She can tell you all about it."
There was a knock at the door at that moment.
Feyre tensed as her eyes flew to the door.
“That’s her,” Rhys said quietly, placing a soothing hand on her leg. “Are you ready?” 
Feyre took a deep, steadying breath, pushing down her worry and her nerves.
“I’m ready,” she said. 
“Feyre!”
Her sister's voice. Her sister's voice.
Feyre’s heart skipped a beat as her body went rigid.
She couldn’t…she couldn’t believe it. After so long…after believing…believing for so long that she would never hear Alana’s voice…
Feyre remembered with a shudder the sight of small, slight Alana in her translucent nightgown…being poured out of the cauldron onto the stone...She looked nothing like she did now.
She looked well.
That was the first thing Feyre realised. Colour on her cheeks, dark, pin straight hair pinned away from her face and these devasting doe eyes…
Feyre’s eyes roamed over her sister, drinking in the sight of her. Alive. Well. Whole.
She could barely believe it, her mind struggling to catch up. 
"You can talk," Feyre whispered as Alana hugged her.  
She grimaced.
Kinda. This is easier though, she answered, her mental voice slipping into Feyre's mind without her even noticing. My throat hurts if I talk too much.
It was strange, having a voice in her mind that was not her own. Different from when her mate spoke to her down the bond. It was more…pronounced. Clearer, somehow. 
"Are…” Feyre’s voice broke again, her eyes roaming over Alana again. “Are you really alright, Al?” 
She drunk in her sister's face, the pale skin, the freckles that covered her face...she had been pretty as a human but as a fae...as a High fae she was gorgeous.
Alana’s eyes, her sister’s eyes, were still the same. Still that same dark, endless brown that had always seemed to hold so many secrets. She had never met anyone who could hold as many secrets as Alana had.
She looked so healthy, so well and Feyre felt a lump form in her throat. 
She had to fight the sudden urge to cry, as she pulled her sister into another hug. Her sister’s slender arms wrapped around her, pulling her in tight. Like she was never going to let her go again. 
I am alright, Alana promised fiercely. I am better than alright. I am...I am so happy, Fey.
The thought in her mind brought another wave of tears to Feyre’s eyes. She held on to her sister tighter, burying her face against her neck as a sob escaped her and she inhaled her sister’s familiar, comforting scent. Pomegranate and Vanilla, with an underlay of Azriel. 
He treats you well? she asked, cradling her sisters face in her hands. She didn't think that Azriel would...mistreat her but...
Alana’s eyes darkened as she thought of Azriel and her expression softened as a faint smile crossed her face. 
Feyre swallowed again. This was different. This was…her sister had never smiled like that. So open. So happy. So filled with…love. 
And then, very carefully, Feyre felt how Alana pulled at her mind in some sense and then dropped a memory.
For just a moment, it felt like she was in her little sister's body. And she stared at Azriel who looked at her, at Alana with utter and complete adoration, scarred hands cupping her cheeks so gently.
Feyre’s breath caught in her throat at that.
She could feel, could understand the feeling of Azriel’s warm, scarred hand against her skin. The way how the pads of his fingers ran over her jawline, the way how his thumb traced over her lower lip. The way how those hazel eyes of his were filled with nothing but love. 
A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine. That look, the way how Azriel had looked at her sister…it was like the expression in Rhys’ eyes when he looked at her. 
Her eyes flickered to Rhys, where he was patiently waiting in a corner.
He was looking at her with that same look in his eyes. The same look that Feyre knew was mirrored in her own eyes. It was the same, that look. Pure, utter devotion. 
It was the look of a man completely and utterly in love. 
Feyre swallowed as she turned back to Alana, her mind whirling. This was…Alana, her sister…her quiet, shy, closed-off little sister. And Azriel, the Shadowsinger and Spymaster of the Night Court. The one that no one saw as anything but sharp and deadly and a ruthless killer. 
He didn’t hurt you, did he? Feyre asked weakly. She didn’t think he would but…
Alana’s expression softened. Her hand gently came to rest on Feyre’s arm and she shook her head, a small smile on her face.
He was gentle as possible, Fey, Alana promised quietly. Gentler than I would have expected. He made sure to go slow, to be careful. He was…he was everything I could have wished for. He has never hurt me more than I wanted. 
Feyre let out a long, shaky breath she didn’t know that she was holding.
She…she had been worried. Worried for her sweet little sister, being together with a man like Azriel. Who was dangerous and deadly and…and lethal. 
What do you mean with no more than you wanted? she demanded suddenly. Alana just grinned at her, her laugh like a pealing bell.
A shudder ran down Feyre’s spine again. Alana’s…her sister’s voice, the sound of her laugh. It was the most wonderful sound that she had ever heard. She could’ve started bawling like a child, but the thought that Alana dropped into her mind just completely derailed her.
He knows what I like, and he’s happy to oblige. 
Feyre’s eyes widened and she choked on nothing.
She…oh Gods. Her face heat in a blush as Alana just continued smiling at her innocently. 
This was her sister. Her quiet, shy, closed-off sister. That was how she remembered her. And now…and now…she was standing in front of Feyre, smiling at her like a cat who had just devoured an entire bowl of cream, telling her that her stoic, broody, deadly Spymaster of a mate was apparently…into things… 
Her sister smirked at her. Alana! Her shy, little sister, who had never even so much as looked at a male with interest, stood in front of Feyre, a smirk on her face as she told Feyre that her mate knew what she liked. 
I was surprised too, you know, Alana’s voice echoed in Feyre’s mind. But well…I like it, and he’s happy to oblige. He’s very good at it… 
But the look on Alana’s face, the utter contentment in her eyes, and the feeling of…of lust from her sister, made it even more mortifying. 
Alana was happy. Her sister was happy and well, and she just radiated happiness. Feyre’s heart soared, seeing her sister like that after so long.  And even the horrifying bits, Feyre could push past.
Seeing her sister happy like this…that was worth a bit of mortification and discomfort. 
So she swallowed her mortification, and just pulled a face at her smirking sister.
Enough with the gory details, for the love of the Mother. she chided her in her head. Alana just let out another pearly bell kind of laugh.
You should come downstairs. Nuala and Cerridwen have given Lucien some clothing and showed him to a bathing chamber. Lunch should be served soon, if you are hungry, Alana said into her mind.
I am famished, Feyre confessed in her mind. “Lead the way,” she said aloud and Alana just rolled her eyes, taking her by the arm and pulling her downstairs. 
And then something else came to her mind. What did Nesta say to you?
Alana sighed. Nothing that matters, her sister said easily as they reached the dining room. Azriel and Cassian were waiting for them.
And then Feyre saw how her sister turned from happy to radiant as soon as she saw Azriel. 
Feyre watched with ill disguised horror, as the spymaster’s shadows came over to Alana, seemingly swarming around her. Whatever bits of naked skin they could find…in this case her hands and face, because she wore a long sleeves high necked gown, they caressed. Nearly sweetly. 
Alana absentmindedly drew her fingers through one tendril as she floated over to Azriel, sitting down onto his lap like that was an utterly normal thing to do. Feyre could just stare as Azriel pressed a kiss against her sister‘s cheek, one scarred hand possessively spanning her waist.
Like this was normal. Like this was something they had done dozens of times…like it was the most normal thing in the world. Like this was their usual routine…and Alana smiled at him, broadly, pressing a kiss against his cheek in greeting. 
It was...it was surreal, watching Alana like this. So much more open, less reserved than Feyre had ever seen her. And the way how Azriel looked at her...Feyre had never seen him express such open and utter adoration before. 
Cassian made a retching sound, catching Feyre’s attention. Azriel’s eyes darkened as he threw an icy look in Cassian’s direction. Alana just snuggled deeper into Azriel’s chest. 
Azriel let out the smallest of chuckles at Alana’s behaviour in his lap, one of his hands coming up to gently play with a strand of her dark hair as he pressed another kiss to her forehead. 
The quiet, brooding Spymaster of the Night Court, who could be downright terrifying when he wanted, completely and utterly smitten by her little sister. 
Feyre could just stare. 
She had not for one moment thought that they would…would be a good match. But here they were. 
Alana...Feyre had never seen her sister like this before. So open, so happy. So...unreserved. She was like a cat, settled in the lap of her male, letting him pet her like she was...like he owned her. And it seemed like Azriel would gladly claim ownership too. The possessive, proprietary look on his face told Feyre all she needed to know. 
“Get a room, for the love of the Mother,” Cassian drawled with a disgusted look on his face as Azriel buried his nose in her sister’s hair and Feyre shot him another dirty look. Alana just stuck her tongue out at him. 
Azriel just bared his teeth at Cassian, a silent warning to watch his tongue in the direction of the woman in his lap, who was busy playing with the buttons on his fighting leathers. 
“What did Nesta say?“ Feyre repeated as she sat down herself. 
The reactions were immediate. 
Azriel growled.
Feyre couldn’t help but flinch slightly. That growl...she hadn’t heard him make that sound before. It sounded utterly terrifying. Alana didn’t even flinch. She just touched Azriel’s chest in a soothing gesture and Azriel immediately quieted down, holding her even tighter. 
It doesn’t matter what Nesta had to say, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind.
“It absolutely does,” Feyre muttered, feeling some anger rising in her. Her sister deserved better than what Nesta had to say. 
I don’t care what she says, Alana replied in her mind. She can believe whatever she likes. She is entitled to her opinion. 
“She can be quiet about her opinion,” Azriel hissed. Only then Feyre realised that her sister must have been projecting her mental voice so that everybody could hear it.
"Azriel." Alana's voice was soft. "It's alright. We both know the truth. It doesn’t matter what she believes"
Azriel looked down at her and a slight frown appeared on his face. He gently cupped her sister's chin, his hazel eyes staring into her dark ones. Feyre could practically hear the silent conversation between them. 
Cassian sighed. "Nesta found out about the mating bond between Azriel and Alana and she didn't take it well," he told Feyre drily.
Of course, she didn’t. Of course, she didn’t. Feyre ground her teeth together. 
"So what exactly was said?" she asked sharply.
Cassian and Rhys shared a look as Azriel let out another warning growl. Feyre ignored him. 
I want to know, Feyre snapped towards Alana. Her sister stiffened. 
Feyre, Alana’s voice echoed in her mind, a hint of warning in her tone. Feyre pushed down a wave of irritation. 
Tell me, Feyre demanded. She was done with secrets. Done with not knowing things. 
It’s nothing, Alana tried to brush her off and Feyre’s irritation flared up in her stomach. 
It is not ‘nothing’. Feyre snapped at her. Her sister’s face was a stoic mask as Azriel let his hand span across her stomach. 
Nesta made a comment about how she was surprised that Azriel hadn't ripped me apart during our...mating. But maybe she shouldn't be surprised because I was a whore anyway, Alana finally answered. How a brute like him was all I amounted to, given that I was a bastard...and then there was some more stuff in that rant about how unfair it was that I had landed on my feet but Elain is...well...Elain isn't doing so good, Alana answered flatly.
Feyre felt her blood boil in her veins. Of course, Nesta would say something like that, the bitter, twisted...- Feyre bit down on the string of curses burning on her tongue. 
Nesta isn't doing well, Feyre. You can't take what she is saying right now to heart, Alana warned her softly. You haven't been in her mind...it's...it's bad.
Feyre felt some of her anger cool down ever so slightly. But that didn’t mean she wasn’t pissed off at Nesta for what she had said. Even if...even if Nesta wasn’t doing well. 
That doesn’t change anything about what she said, Feyre said through gritted teeth. 
I am not defending her, Alana said firmly. I love Nesta. Doesn’t mean that I like hearing her talk about Azriel like that. But Feyre... her voice grew softer. I have seen her mind. Her thoughts. She isn’t in a good place right now.
Feyre grimaced, feeling her anger slowly disappear. She didn’t like it. She didn’t want to. But...maybe Alana was right. Nesta was her sister, and Feyre loved her. Even after everything that had happened between them. 
Still...what she said... Feyre said weakly and Alana’s lips quirked. 
I know, she said gently. I was angry too. I nearly tore her head off. But Azriel...he was furious. I’ve never seen him like that before. 
Feyre didn’t need to be told how furious Azriel had been. The look in his eyes, the clenched jaw and the growl that Feyre had heard...she didn’t need anyone to tell her how the usually stoic male had been absolutely furious about what Nesta had said. 
"I'll talk to her," Feyre said aloud.
She ignored the dubious look that Cassian and Rhys were giving her. Her sister just smiled at her softly and nodded. 
Talk to her gently, she urged in Feyre’s mind. Please. And don’t...don’t try to defend me. It will only start a fight. 
Feyre winced. Even though, she didn’t like the thought of it and not defending her sister went completely against her nature, she knew that Alana was right. And her sister could read her thoughts with ease anyways. 
I’ll bite my tongue, Feyre promised her. Alana smiled at her again, that smile that lit up her entire face. Feyre felt her heart clench at the beautiful sight. 
“Thank you,” Alana said happily, her voice like the most wonderful sound. Feyre had a feeling that that was the thanks not only for agreeing not to defend her but for just...not making a scene. Feyre felt a small, answering smile tug at the corners of her own lips.
Instead, she watched her sister pick up a piece of bread from the plate in front of Azriel and hold it up for him to eat without another word. A silent gesture of acceptance.
Azriel’s lips twitched as he looked at his mate, sitting on his lap like she belonged there. But he obediently opened his mouth, a subtle sign of complete surrender to Alana. 
Cassian made another retching sound. Alana ignored him.
Azriel was the one who kissed Alana.
Feyre could have gone quite a long time without that sight. Especially because it wasn't a simple peck on the cheek or a quick kiss to her lips. 
Feyre could have gone forever without seeing her sister like this, settled in the lap of her mate, their bodies pressed together tightly as Azriel kissed her, devoured her, his hands possessively splayed out on her slender waist. 
"Now you are just fucking with me," Cassian said with a sigh.
Alana just broke out in a fit of giggles as Azriel threw a glare in Cassian’s direction. 
“Maybe I am,” Azriel mused, as Alana settled back into his lap. Azriel’s one scarred hand was back to playing with a strand of Alana’s hair. “Jealous?” he asked lightly and  Cassian actually growled at him.  Azriel snorted, his hand possessively covering Alana’s stomach, who was smiling like the happiest person in the world. 
“Shut up,” Cassian huffed. “I am not jealous. I just don’t want to know what you two get up to at night.” 
"Only at night?" Azriel asked drily. "Brother, you have much to learn."
Feyre groaned internally at the hint in Azriel’s voice as Cassian looked a little ashen, while Rhys burst out laughing and Alana let out another one of her pearly-bell like laughs. 
“Stop tormenting him,” Rhys said with a chuckle as Cassian tried to recover. “He’ll have nightmares for weeks if you continue like this.” 
“That sounds like a you problem,” Azriel replied, completely unrepentant, “not ours.” Alana was still giggling, a sound like tinkling bells in Feyre’s ears. 
“Of course you say that, you bastard,” Cassian said with a sigh as Azriel’s hand on Alana’s stomach started to slowly wander upwards. 
Feyre could see how Alana’s cheeks flushed slightly in response to the possessive touch. How her breathing quickened ever so slightly. Azriel’s lips twitched as he noticed it too. 
"We'll let you deal with Lucien," Alana said suddenly, gaining her feet quickly. "We'll see you at dinner. Az?"
“Coming, sweetheart,” Azriel said and Cassian made another retching sound as Feyre could feel the waves of possessiveness coming off Azriel in waves. Her sister was his. 
In a matter of heartbeats, they were gone. Feyre was left with Cassian and Rhys who were both looking at her intently. 
"Yes, they are always like that, if you wondered,” Cassian said with a roll of his eyes. "I think they are still in the Mating Frenzy."
“Most likely,” Rhys agreed with a chuckle. “But they also don’t seem to care who sees it. Mor is still horrified from walking in on them a few weeks ago.” 
“So would I be in her shoes,” Feyre said honestly and Cassian snickered. 
“They are insufferable, aren’t they?” He said with a grin. Rhys just chuckled. “So utterly happy.”
“Yes,” Feyre agreed, the image of the two of them, completely oblivious to the world around them still in her mind. “Unbelievably so.” 
“They’re also completely and utterly devoted to each other,” Rhys mused. “It is…kind of sweet.” Feyre nodded thoughtfully. 
It was sweet. The way Azriel looked at her sister, how he was so utterly possessive about her. And Alana…there wasn’t a hint of hesitation about her when it came to Azriel. 
"As long as she's happy," Feyre said quietly. As long as Alana was happy.
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ms-demeanor · 1 day
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I've been following what's been going on with Belphie the kitten and his person, Greer Stothers, has just mentioned pet insurance in a tag on a post and I wanted to give an example from my life backing up why pet insurance can be a good idea and why I think it is worthwhile.
Two years ago my sister's dog had bloat while she was on vacation. The kennel he was staying at recognized symptoms and called my sister to clear them to take him to the emergency vet. My sister is very financially secure and this dog is an enormous part of her life, so she said yes with barely a moment of hesitation. That ended up being about twelve thousand dollars of emergency surgery.
Large Bastard and I got pet insurance for Tiny Bastard the same week because we realized that if someone had presented that option to us, we would have had no choice but to have Tiny Bastard put down, and we didn't want to be put in that position.
I did a lot of research about different kinds of pet insurance and different levels of coverage and annual maximums and deductibles and so on and so forth. Tiny Bastard is a senior dog, so this was going to be expensive no matter what options we went with, so I chose a moderately priced plan with a $500 annual deductible, unlimited annual coverage, that pays 80% of the bills incurred annually below the maximum. What that means is that we pay the first $500 of care totally out of pocket, after which point we are reimbursed 80% of any vet bills for care covered by the plan.
The first year we had this plan I was kind of iffy about it. It's a noticeable monthly expense and we didn't even spend the deductible in vet bills the first year. Except that a month before the policy was set to renew, Tiny Bastard got diagnosed with diabetes. We now have monthly insulin costs and syringe costs; there are tests she has to have regularly to monitor her overall condition and we need to do more frequent vet visits to track symptoms.
Suddenly the insulin alone means that the insurance is break-even within six months and the additional visits and tests are something we can afford instead of something we'd have to put on credit.
Our plan (through ManyPets) covers medication, surgery, diagnostics, medical equipment, and euthanasia and cremation. It doesn't cover pre-existing conditions, joint conditions for dogs who were signed up over a certain age, dental care, spay/neuter, vaccinations, or prescription food but honestly all of that makes me just kind of wish we'd signed her up earlier - her knee problems *would* be covered if we'd had her signed up as a puppy, and the monthly cost would have been lower if we'd signed her up then. And there are at least a few emergency vet bills that I wouldn't still be paying off on my credit card. Hell, I've probably paid more in interest on some bruising she got in a fight three years ago than I have for this policy as a whole.
I am glad that Greer is able to take care of Belphie. I am glad that my sister was able to take care of her dog. But I'm also really, really glad that for a relatively low cost, I would be able to take care of Tiny Bastard if she were catastrophically injured, or if she needed emergency surgery. I'm glad that I'm able to take care of her now with her medications and her additional vet visits.
There are a lot of people who say that pet insurance isn't worth it, especially not for young animals. But if your young animal gets very sick, or gets badly injured, or eats a hairband and needs an emergency endoscopy, then it will probably be VERY worth it. It's a risk/reward question. You feel like you're wasting money if you're paying for a policy that you never use, but honestly that just means you're lucky to have a healthy pet.
I'm lucky that Tiny Bastard was relatively healthy before I got the insurance; I'm also lucky that she was insured when she was diagnosed with a chronic illness that will need lifelong care. This enables me to provide care for her that would otherwise be financially unmanageable, and that makes the insurance *extremely worth it* from my perspective.
And Belphie is a good example of why it's a good idea to get coverage even for very young pets. Greer is recommending it because this kitten has required a tremendous amount of care during a period in his life when it's generally taken for granted that a cat will be healthy. (And Greer is not stupid for forgoing pet insurance - pet insurance is still a relatively new concept and there are lots of people who are leery of it for a number of good reasons)
So I'd say that if you've got a pet or are getting a pet it is very worthwhile to find a pet insurance plan that fits in your budget. There are a variety of plans out there and some are very inexpensive. Check coverage levels (you can even get some with wellness plans that include dental care and vaccinations) and see if there's something that works for you.
I personally don't think I'm ever going to own another pet without having pet insurance. It's ridiculous how much easier it is for me to say yes to diagnostic tests or different treatments than it was before because I know I'm going to be able to fit Tiny Bastard's care into our budget.
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meanbossart · 2 days
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hi. i want to start by saying i love your artwork so much. it gives me so much inspiration and hope when i feel like i absolutely hate everything im making, because as long as i am trying, i will one day get to a place where my art makes me feel as (captivated??? in awe????? appreciative??? idk) as yours does. (GO OFF ANATOMY!!!!! i stare at any muscles you draw for 20 minutes un-blinking and begin foaming at the mouth so it burns into my brain). du drow is also very silly i like him very much. his eyes sort of look like fish eyes and they make me a little afraid but in a good way. i fear i am realizing something about myself as i type this.
ANYWAYS!!!! my original ask was going to be; do you have any drawings of astarion smiling?? like teef and all. the kind of smile you can’t suppress. the way you draw him scratches my brain in a spot nothing else has reached and this has been on my mind for days, so i thought it’d be worth asking. thank you for reading!!!! and keep up the absolutely incredible work!!!! i adore your content!!
Thank you so much for your sweet message! Honestly, I think that being unsatisfied with your own work is just the perpetual artist's curse, so don't overthink it! That's a feeling you likely won't ever be able to shake off, but hopefully you're able to turn it into something productive instead of destructive while recognizing the merit in your own art, even if it will never be perfect. There's not a single piece I've done that's ever turned out exactly as I hoped it would, and that's precisely what drives me to keep going.
Not to mention the fact that others will always be able to appreciate the things about your art that you miss while being self-critical - case in point. Point is, I'm flattered that my stuff has encouraged you to to improve.
I'm sure I've drawn Astarion grinning a couple of times, but here's another for your trouble!
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Hi can I request first time with chan with shy reader? 🥺👉🏼👈🏼
i’ll help you through it, yeah?
pairing: chan x virgin reader
genre: smut, fluff, friends to lovers
word count: ~2.6k
warnings: mutual pining, pet names, protected sex, praise.
authors note: i have this request in my inbox for other members as well, so look out for those in the future. i have so many requests (tysm btw) so it’s taking me a little while to get through them. i’m trying to do the oldest ones first because y’all been waiting so long. - not me blushing while writing this. i wish my first time was this sweet. lol
masterlist
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"i’m just sick of it, ya know?" you complained. "i’m sick of feeling like this. like im unwanted and missing out on something."
your best friend looked at you, intently listening, but worry starting to mar his features. "are people being mean to you because you’re a virgin?" you could sense the anger threatening to rise up out of him at the thought of someone being mean to you.
"no. this is just pressure i’m putting on myself at this point. im too old to still be a virgin."
"i don’t think that’s true." chris said. "i thought you were saving yourself for someone you really loved? wasn’t that the point?"
he was right, you had always said that since you and chris were kids. you didn’t want your first time to be some fleeting, gross experience. you wanted it to be sweet and full of love. but, it didn’t seem like that was working out and you were tired of waiting.
"yeah well i don’t think that’s going to happen." you said, your voice soft, almost sad. "the person i love doesn’t love me, so im just going to have to give up on that." you chuckled sadly, the sound almost a scoff.
"i understand that. im in the same situation." he confided. "but i haven’t given up. i don’t think you should either."
you looked over at him, the space between you both on the couch was small. you could feel the warmth radiating off of him. that’s just how chris is. he’s warm. he’s warm and he’s safe and.. how could you not be in love with him? your heart longed for him to be the one to take your virginity. your heart ached with the thought of it.
he looked back at you with his big brown eyes, his curly hair tickling his eyelashes. and he thought you were the most beautiful person he had ever seen. why couldn’t you just see how in love with you he is? he hated himself for not being able to confess to you. for not being able to just come clean and tell you how you are the center of his universe. but he was scared. to have you as his best friend and to long for you but never have you was better than telling you and losing you all together. but maybe.. he could try to help you with your current problem? see how things went and then he could decide from there what he would do.
"i could maybe.. help you." chris said shyly, rubbing his sweaty palms together in his lap.
you were shocked. "help me? with this?" why would he offer to help you unless he also wanted to? you felt a small bit of hope bloom in your chest.
"only if you want to." he said quickly. "i’m not trying to push myself on you. i’m just trying to help. we don’t have to."
you thought about it for a moment, your body screaming at you to say yes. but your mind was telling you everything that could go wrong. what if he hated it? found you gross and laughed at your inexperience? you brushed those thoughts off. you and chris has been friends for over fifteen years. he would never do something like that to you. he was kind.
"i would be okay with that.." you said. "but it might not be very good."
"i’ll help you through it, yeah?"
you loved him. god you loved him. this was the right decision,you knew that.
he scooted closer to you on the couch, your thighs pressed against each other. he touched your face, turning you to look at him. he looked in your eyes before saying "if you want to stop, just tell me,okay? i won’t be mad." you nodded as he looked down at your lips. and ever so slowly, not wanting to overwhelm you or scare you, he leaned it. his pillow soft lips made contact with yours and you were done for. he moved his lips against yours, his hand moving to cradle the back of your head. your hands found their way around his neck, tangling in his curls.
this felt so right, but your stomach churned with worry. your body was still tense.
"sweetheart, relax." he whispered against your lips. "you know me." he kissed you again, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. you felt embarrassed. kissing chris felt like the first time you had ever kissed anyone,even though that wasn’t the case.he had you so flustered, your lips weren’t listening to your brain’s commands. you opened your mouth and let his tongue in. he tasted sweet.
he pulled away, admiring your flushed cheeks. "do you want to move to your bedroom?" he asked. you nodded, and he stood, offering you his hand. he led you though your apartment and to your bedroom, knowing the way by heart. standing at the edge of your bed, he pulled you close. he kissed you again, his hands finding their way under your shirt, tickling the skin of your tummy.
"can we take this off?"
your hesitation made him pull away, studying your face for any signs of wanting to stop. "would it help if i took mine off first?" you nodded again, thankful for his suggestion. "you want to help me?"
you grabbed the hem of his black shirt and pulled it up and over his head, discarding it on the floor. you looked at him, at his body. you had seen him shirtless multiple times over the years. summers spent together swimming and early mornings at his apartment after late night study sessions, but this was different. his chest was bare because he wanted you to see it. and that made your skin hot.
"now you.." he said, reaching for your shirt slowly, giving you time to protest. but you didn’t. you let him pull your shirt off, leaving you standing in front of him in your jeans and lacy black bra. his eyes grew wide, his breath catching in his throat. could he do this? you were so beautiful and he hadn’t even seen all of you yet. you were starting to squirm under his stare. his hands were warm and soft as they grazed over your skin, his arms wrapping around your waist as he moved to kiss you again. his fingertips danced up your back, until they unclasped your bra and it fell to the floor. he continued kissing you, not looking at your bare chest right away, giving you time to get used to being bare in his presence. you nipples brushed against his chest, growing harder. arousal pooling between your legs as his kisses moved to your jaw and then your neck.
he took his time with you, slowly placing wet kisses on your skin as he guided you to the bed. he laid you down gently, his body hovering above you. he kissed down to your collarbones, across your chest and down to between your breasts. he looked up at you, his lips still pressed to your skin. your cheeks were red, your mouth slightly open as you tried to draw in breath. he saw no signs of stopping in your eyes. no , they begged him to continue. his lips closed around one of your nipples, his tongue gently caressing the nub. his hand gripped your waist as he sucked on your nipple, your hands balled into fists at your sides.
"you can touch me if you want to, baby." he said, his breath blowing cold against the wet skin of your breast. "don’t hold back."
he kissed his way across to your other nipple as you brought your hands to his hair. he started to move lower, until his lips were against your belly button, and even lower still until his tongue was running along the top of your jeans. "can i take these off?" he asked, fingers grazing over the button and zipper. with your approval, he carefully unbuttoned them and slid them down your legs, revealing your panties that matched your bra. he looked up at you, his face only inches from your center. "you’re so wet, baby." he said. "i can see a little wet patch on your panties."
your face flushed and you turned your head, hiding your embarrassment in your pillow.
"hey.. hey.." he said, his hand finding yours, tangling your fingers together. "don’t hide, baby. let me see your pretty face." you did your best to look at him, trying not to focus on your insecurities, but trying to focus on him instead. you squeezed his hand, his kind brown eyes showing nothing but love. he kissed your hip, and across your skin until he was placing a gentle kiss on your clothed clit. you jerked slightly. "is that the spot baby?" you nodded, biting your lip.
he pulled away, standing up. he chuckled at your pout, your little whines of protest. "just let me take these off." he unbuttoned his jeans, and kicked them to the side. he was only wearing his underwear now, his erection causing the material to stretch uncomfortably. he admired your body from this angle. your arms wrapped around your middle, your legs bending, trying to cover yourself. "don’t." he said, grabbing one of your wrists in each hand and holding your arms out. "let me look at you, baby. god, you are so beautiful."
his hands found their way back to your breasts,squeezing slightly before his fingertips grazed down your skin to the elastic of your panties. he hooked his fingers around them. "can i take these off? can i see your little pussy?" you lifted your hips in answer, helping him slide them off. you were completely naked in front of him now but you didn’t have time to be self conscious about it. his lips were already back on your skin,kissing everywhere he could reach. "fuck you’re so pretty." he mumbled against your tummy. "been dreaming about this."
what did he mean by that? you wondered.
"can i see you too?" you asked, your voice sounding so loud to your own ears, having been silent for so long. but you were starting to feel more comfortable. he made you feel so safe.
"of course you can." he said, straightening again to take his briefs off. and now you got to admire him for a moment. the hard muscles of his chest and abdomen leading down to his hard and leaking erection. the first thing you thought was that he was big. but honestly, you didn’t really have much to compare it to.. so what did you know? "don’t worry baby. we’ll go slow." he said, sensing your hesitation.
he leaned down to kiss your lips once again, his fingers making contact with your wetness. he rubbed soft circles on your clit. you grabbed onto his shoulders, your small whimpers falling into his mouth.
"does that feel good?" he asked.
"yes.." you breathed. "so good."
his fingers traveled down through your folds and teased your entrance. "i’ve got to prepare you a little bit, okay? like this.." and he slid one finger inside of you slowly, pumping in and out. you had done this to yourself before but this was completely different. you had never felt like this before. "there you go, baby." once he felt you had gotten used to the first finger, he added a second. he moved them in and out slowly, his thumb rubbing softly on your clit. you could feel your orgasm building. you were embarrassed by how quickly it had come. but you had been waiting so long for him to touch you like this, you couldn’t help it. he could feel you fluttering around his fingers. "are you going to cum?" he whispered against your neck, his lips pressing soft kisses, his teeth nibbling.
"yes.. yes fuck." you panted.
"go ahead, baby. let go."
and you did, you clamped down on his fingers, his name falling from your lips as your body shook.
he had been fantasizing about you moaning his name like that for so long now that it took everything in him not to bust right then. he took a deep breath, pulling his fingers out of you. you watched as he brought them to his mouth and licked them clean, your pussy dripping and pulsing, begging for more. he leaned over the side of the bed and fished a condom out of his pants pocket.
"are you ready?" he asked, holding the condom up.
"yes please." you said, breathless.
"ooh so polite." he teased, giggling as he tore the foil pack open. you watched as he pumped himself a few times, precum leaking from his swollen tip, before sliding the condom down his length. he leaned down and cupped your face, kissing you softly. "remember, we can stop at any time. just tell me. okay?"
"i don’t want to stop." you said, desperate. "please don’t stop."
he smiled. "i won’t unless you tell me to." he knelt in front of you, his hands on your knees, spreading your legs. he lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing the tip in. you gasped and his head fell back, his mouth open. he slowly inched his way inside, giving you time to adjust. you whined under him, your eyes squeezing shut at the stretch. "i know, baby. i know." he said. "you’re doing so good." once you felt his thighs on the back of yours, he stilled. letting you properly adjust to his size. he could feel you pulsing around him, his cock begging to cum. "i’m gonna move now, okay?"
you nodded frantically. "yes. yes please, please."
he slowly pulled out and pushed back in, his pace increasing with each thrust. he wasn’t going to last much longer. he knew that. "fuck— baby you feel so g—good." he stuttered. his hands were digging into your hips as he pumped into you. his mouth open, his eyebrows scrunched together, his hair sticking to his forehead. "are you doing okay?"
"fuck yes.." you gasped. "gonna— gonna cum."
he could feel you squeezing around him. he fell down on to his elbows, his arms caging your head, his panting breath in your ear. he continued pumping in and out of you, the wet sounds filling the room. "cum with m-me baby." he said. "fuck- fuck-"
you squeezed him tighter as your orgasm washed over you, you vision going dark. his thrusts got sloppy and then stopped all together as he spilled into the condom. he collapsed next to you, his panting matching your own. he lazily kissed your jaw and your shoulder. "i love you.." he said.
you froze.
"shit- sorry." he said. "i- i didn’t mean to ruin the moment.. it slipped out."
you turned to face him, his brown eyes looking worried. "i love you too.."
his hand caressed your cheek, his thumb rubbing softly back and forth. "really? you’re not just saying that because your overcome with emotion right now?"
you shook your head no. "i’ve been in love with you for a while now.." you confessed.
he chuckled. "i’ve been in love with you for a while. guess we were both too scared to say anything."
you nodded, feeling blissfully happy. you nuzzled into his chest, wrapping your arms around his waist.
"are you okay?" he asked. "was that.. okay?"
"i feel amazing." you said, your voice muffled by his chest. "i’m glad i waited for someone i truly love."
"gahh my heart." he said, squeezing you tighter,
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matryosika · 3 days
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Three Times Again
Pairing — Hyunjin & Reader Wordcount — 6,171 words Includes — Fem!reader, mentions of alcohol consumption, smut (warnings under the cut). Author's Note — Finished college, graduated with a psychology degree and a 98.8/100 general score, I now have a serious, serious job and I haven't written anything in eight or nine months so this is the best I can do at this point. This might be a bit rusty but honestly I'm happy I was able to write something for the first time in so long. Don't think I forgot about you folks, I never will! Hope you didn't forget about me either.
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Smut Warnings — Virgin AND inexperienced reader paired with somewhat experienced male character, best friends trope. Use of petnames, praise and worship if you squint, very very delicate smut if i'm being honest. Fingering, oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, lots of making out and kisses, protected sex, mentions and use of condom, piv.
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It was bound to happen.
Hyunjin knew it. You knew it. All of your friends knew it. 
Rather sooner than later, it was just bound to happen. 
The four walls on his bedroom and the remnants of the incense smoke are lively witnesses of the tension unraveling —a tension that lasted enough for the two of you, and that is now slowly causing havoc with each of your heartbeats.
It all started with a simple, pointless "truth or dare" kind of game, you and your friend's very own rendition: truth or shot. You asked each other's questions, and you could choose between replying or chugging down a shot of liquid courage. No room for those "lick the floor" or "text your ex" shenanigans. 
Of course the catch was that after 3 or 4 rounds, your headspace wasn't as sober as initially. And after a series of shots, one would eventually start spitting out just truths that cannot be spoken after the sun rises.
“Don’t think about it,” Hyunjin begs in between kisses, dragging his swollen lips  along your shoulders and neck. His hands are roaming underneath your clothes, getting familiar with your body while feeling your warmth. “Please, don’t think about it”. 
You can't. And you try not to. 
At least not when the sensations of his wet lips teasing your skin becomes too much to handle in a span of minutes, or when the ghost trailing of his fingertips against your flesh is making you turn desperate for him.
But it is difficult.
“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you whisper, the logical, still functioning part of your brain tries to protest. Despite how aroused you are, and despite how receptive your body is to that of Hyunjin's. “We’re- you’re my best friend Hyunjin”. 
“And you’re mine,” he hums against your skin, only lifting his gaze when you bury your fingers a bit too harshly onto his dark hair locks, “is that so wrong?”
His words get underneath your skin in ways that they shouldn't, and you start kissing your rationality goodbye as Hyunjin nibbles softly at the flesh where your shoulders and neck connect.
“You’re- we are going to regret this,” you exhale, ironically locking your arms around his neck. Your words are only saying much, but your body is risking it all to let him know that you want this just as much as he does. “What if- you wake up tomorrow and think this was a mistake?”
The dark-haired lets out a quiet groan, filled with both amusement and despair. “How can this be a mistake?” he asks, moving one of his hands from your hips to your thighs, sneaking it between your shorts and your underwear, “how can it be a mistake when I've waited years to have you like this, all for me?”. 
You arch your back against the palm of his hand. 
“Hyunjin,” you exhale his name once again, but you're not quite sure what for. It could be a plea, or the beginning of a sentence you can't begin to articulate in a situation like this. It could also be the familiarity of the word falling from your lips in between moans —you would be such a filthy liar if you were to deny having touched yourself while thinking about your friend before. 
Either way, Hyunjin never really thought of his name that much until now, that he's hearing you moaning it. 
“Yeah?” he asks with a weak hum, getting lost in the way you smell, “talk to me”. 
“F-fuck,” you murmur weakly, the stinging feeling of tears pricking on the corners of your eyes.  You’re about to cry, but you don't know why. Blame it on the alcohol, the sudden release of that secret you've kept years locked inside of you, or the overwhelming sensation Hyunjin’s skin is, “promise me something-”. 
Your friend is all too busy engraving every single inch of your skin into his brain. Every freckle, mole and stretch mark, he needs to memorize your flesh like it's a map. He wants to remember how it looks underneath the dim light of his room, proof that this all happened and it's not just another wet dream of his.
“Anything,” he says, with such a raspy voice it's vibrations travel from the skin spilling out from your bra up until your throbbing center, “ask me anything”. 
You gather all your courage within you to lift your upper body from the mattress, resting your weight on your forearms and causing Hyunjin to take a slight step back from you.
“Promise me this isn't going to change a thing in our friendship,” you murmur, your chest moving up and down almost frantically. Hyunjin's dark eyes are all over yours, with a subtle furrow in his brows that just tells you he's still trying to get a hold on everything that's happening. “Promise me, Hyunjin”. 
You're honestly asking for a lot. How can he promise such a thing, when he is already missing the warmth of your skin? How can he pretend nothing is going to change, when tomorrow he will wake up with the ghostly feeling of your pussy around his dick?
Hyunjin will say yes. Hyunjin will say that he promises you something he knows he is not going to fulfill. And honestly, he can play pretend. You're not going to be able to tell, and he is not going to say it. 
But Hyunjin knows everything is going to change the minute he gets to feel your lips on his again. He knows nothing will ever be the same once he bottoms out inside you, hearing you moaning and gasping while he fucks you however you ask him to.
“I promise,” he swallows the lie thickly, staring at you between furrowed eyebrows. “I fucking promise just- please let me have you, please”. 
You're staring at each other with hitched breath, rapid heartbeats and an insane amount of uncertainty neither of you can sort out. 
“Please let me taste you,” Hyunjin plants a chaste kiss right above your hip bone.
And then another. 
And another.
And another.
“Please,” he begs again, humming your name. “Let me make you feel real good”. 
You close your eyes in defeat, getting immersed in the way his hot lips feel against your tummy. He is kissing, and licking, and nibbling at your flesh, it's practically impossible not to give in when all that's left is your word consenting to it.
“Please,” Hyunjin insists, the tip of his fingers grazing against the hems of your skirt and underwear. “Say you want this just as much as I do”. 
You whine, kicking your head back.
“Say it,” he repeats, whispering your name. “I need to hear it from you. I need to know that you want me like I want you”. 
“I want this,” you finally confess. “I want this- fuck, I want you, Hyunjin”. 
The words leave your lips with a shakily breath, and you think it might be the release of it all.
His lips crash into yours once again, and you realize how much you missed his taste despite having kissed him just minutes ago. Hyunjin's saliva tastes like plum soju, mint and your strawberry gloss, and your heart skips a beat at the realization that this is real, that this is happening —your taste and essence lingers in Hyunjin's mouth, and there's no turning back now. 
The closer your bodies are, the more your fragrances mix. You can't tell his smell apart from yours, and he can't tell either —your hands smell like his lotion, and his shirt smells like your perfume.
Your mind spirals into all the sensations he is providing you with, that is until his hands sneak underneath your blouse and you get to feel his hot flesh against the sides of your body.
Then, your mind goes blank.
Your blood boils, you feel the heat rising to your chest, cheeks and ears. You feel exposed, in a way, but you're sure things aren't going to end there.
Hyunjin has seen nothing of you just yet.
"Can I take this off?" His hands are still attached to your waist underneath your clothes, and as far as you're concerned he could be talking about your shirt or your bra. You want those two off anyways, so you nod and agree to whatever he is thinking.
Things unfold in slow motion to your eyes, but everything is happening pretty fast, actually. In the blink of an eye your blouse is scattered around his bedroom floor, and it doesn't take too long before his t-shirt is joining yours there, too. 
Between all the kisses and pettings, you feel the loss of his warmth when he takes a step back. Then, you feel really exposed.
Apart from your heavy breaths and fast heartbeats, the room is completely quiet. So quiet it scares you, so you break the silence with a muffled "what?".
Hyunjin's straight eyebrows furrow just slightly, and he parts his lips to say something yet nothing comes out of them. Nothing but a deep, trembling exhale; it sounds like the equivalent to being able to finally breath after being underwater for so long.
“What, Hyunjin?” You repeat with a stern voice, fearing he might've started to regret the whole thing. He is unreadable —as far as you're concerned, he could be having second thoughts about this stupid idea. You wouldn't blame it for it.
But when he drops to his knees in front of you, and his hands find the waistband of your skirt, you get the sense that he might not be regretting any of this at all.
“So pretty,” he mutters, with rounded eyebrows like crescent moons and big, open eyes as he stares up at you, “you’re so, so pretty”. 
The compliment takes your breath away, and the skin on your nape and back short-circuits as if an explosion of electricity it’s taking place underneath your flesh.
"You really think so?" You're not quite sure what prompts you to ask such a question, but you figure you should let yourself get loose. The last thing you want for tonight is to hold back, because that isn't the idea.
You're doing this with Hyunjin for a reason, and said reason is because you trust him.
Without holding back, without overthinking, without hesitating. There will be plenty of time to reflect on whatever happens tonight, but right now isn't the time.
At least not when Hyunjin is kneeling in front of you, holding so much adoration in his eyes you swear you finally feel those butterflies people keep talking about.
“I know so,” he reiterates, “just look at you”. 
Your eyes fall to where his hands meet with your skirt, and this time he asks for consent with just his gaze. You nod and swallow thickly, watching as his fingers expertly dance along the hems of your skirt.
You want to shy away, to cover yourself and evaporate into thin air —at the same time, Hyunjin wants to look at you. You want him to be the first one to see you naked, to touch parts of your body nobody has before. You want to see his expression, to wonder what he will do when the realization of having you in his bed finally sinks in.
Because up until now, everything feels like a fever dream to him.
You stand in front of the edge of his bed, and watch as he undresses you. His hands trace the path of the skirt, from your thighs to your calves, and only looks up when it reaches your ankles, signaling for you to step out of it.
The color and fabric of your panties match those of the bra, and for a split second Hyunjin feels played. 
Did you plan it? Have you been thinking about this as much as he has?
It could be a coincidence, but it isn't —at some point throughout the night, you and Hyunjin were bound to happen. And you both knew it.
“Fuck,” he curses under his breath, standing up from the floor right in front of you. His eyes are all over your face, his hands are shy and you get the feeling that he might kiss you, but all he does is press his lips against yours and murmurs, “you make me feel so- fuck, I don’t even know”. 
You appreciate Hyunjin's sincerity, because honestly you don't know either. All you know is the adrenaline running through your veins, and the palpitations you feel underneath your left rib cage and between your thighs.
All you know is that you want Hyunjin to fuck you. Whether it's painful, or not. Whether you get to feel some pleasure, or not. All you want is for him to be your first, to be the one you experience sex for the first time like everyone around you already has.
It's actually more complicated than that, than just experiencing, but you don't dwell on it for long.
“Don’t think about it too much,” you suggest, just as fazed as he is. “Don’t think about anything just- do whatever you want”.
Hyunjin is unsure of what he is doing, judged by the hesitation behind his movements. He holds you by the small of your back and presses you tightly against his body, so close the tip of your noses are grazing against each other.
“Stop me if I hurt you,” he whispers with shortness of breath, “alright?”
You nod and swallow thickly, “okay”. 
Inevitably, Hyunjin feels a pressure over his shoulders. He knows it is your first time. 
You deserve something memorable, something that it's all about you. 
Sure, his dick is hard and throbbing, and he swears he is one second away from exploding inside his pants, but he is willing to leave his pleasure aside for yours.
He'd have other opportunities to get his dick wet and other chances to experiment. Right now it should be all about you, about making you feel good.
And under that thought, he kisses you again. 
Soft and slowly, dragging the tip of his fingers along the middle of your back. His tongue brushes against yours and you completely forget about the concept of oxygen.
It doesn't matter now that Hyunjin's breath is everything you need to respire.
His fingers keep lingering in the hooks of your bra, and it surprises you how he is able to get it off of you on his own.
"No man ever gets it right the first time," your best friend had told you amidst laughter. But Hyunjin just did in his first try. He is just naturally good at everything he does; excelling at random tasks, always getting things perfectly from the very start.
You hardly think about how naked you're in comparison to him, because he presses his chest to yours and your breasts become squeezed by his golden skin. You feel your nipples hardening against him, and you’re fully aware he can feel them too.
Fuck, he can feel them. And his cock gets even harder by that alone. 
“Let me see you,” Hyunjin whispers under his breath, but you wrap your arms around his neck, preventing him from taking a step back from you. You shake your head, feeling abruptly overwhelmed by his embrace, as well as the cold air hitting your skin.
“No one has ever seen me naked,” you say.
He knows.
“I want to see you, if you let me,” he swallows thickly, brushing his nose against yours. “Please, let me see you”.
Hyunjin feels your arms releasing some strength, falling limp over his shoulders, and he takes that as an opportunity to walk back just enough to see you.
All of you.
Everything he shouldn't fantasize about, but he does. 
“God,” he exhales with a strangled breath, doing everything he possibly can to remain collected.
But it's irrational, and impossible. How can he remain calm when you're standing naked in front of him? Your skin is covered in goosebumps, your nipples are hard and the dark, wet patch on your cotton underwear just tells him that your body needs something only he can give you. How can he be calm throughout any of this?
He can’t, and he is finally coming to terms with it.
“It’s not fair,” you murmur, slyly crossing your arms over your chest, “I’m practically naked, and you still have your pants on”. 
Hyunjin listens, but decides to ignore you. Instead, his hands find your crossed arms and he motions for you to drop them, pressing his lips against yours to kiss you one more time.
He swears he might never get tired of kissing you, ever.
“Lay down,” he presses desperate, short kisses against your lips, and you follow his guidance until your back meets the softness of the comforter.
His hands hold the sides of your body, only to drag the last piece of clothing off from your body. And it happens all too fast, that you don't even have time to shy away. Hyunjin lays down between your spread legs, with his hands and arms hooked underneath your thighs, half-lidded eyes looking right at yours.
“Remember,” Hyunjin warns, and the feeling of his warm breath against your core feels too weird and unfamiliar, you mean to close your legs around him but he doesn't allow you to, “tell me if I hurt you”. 
Your heart would have exploded inside your chest at the sight, but it doesn't until Hyunjin's tongue meets your pussy for the first time. Then, you feel your heartbeats ringing loudly in your ears.
“Shit,” you curse under your breath, holding up your weight with your forearms.
“You’re dripping wet,” he murmurs, nose brushing against your clit while his tongue collects all your arousal, “you must have been wanting this for so long”.
You writhe under his hold, feeling weakened by his words. Your chest feels heavy, and there's a tension on your lower back that prompts you to grind your hips against his face, practically begging for him to do something.
And he does —the tip of his digits slide against your folds, exploring you. He focuses his tongue on your clit, and by that alone you swear you're seeing stars. You thought the stimulation would pretty much feel like your fingers or toys, but it's nothing close to that. It feels foreign, out of your control, and you like that.
“How do you touch yourself?” Hyunjin asks with a deep voice you swear you can't recognize. 
Instead of replying, you guide one of your hands to his, that is already wet and sticky, and take two of his fingers, “put them inside”. 
He follows your orders, sinking his index and middle finger with such an ease it surprises both of you. Normally, it would take you a while to get wet on your own —right now, it seems that your body is reacting to Hyunjin much faster than you expected.
“So fucking warm,” the mutter is more to himself than to you, but you still catch it. And for some reason, the sound of his voice makes you clench harder around his fingers, “and so tight”. 
“Don’t say that,” you kick your head back, closing your eyes shut.
“I know you like it,” he says, a small smile creeping through the corners of his lips, “I can feel it”. 
There it is, again. Your walls flutter around his fingers, squeezing them softly at every word he says.
“You like it when I tell you how wet you are?” Hyunjin’s voice is gradually lower now, and his choice of words has the desired effect on you, “don’t lie, I can feel you getting tighter”. 
This may be better than any lie detector the world has come to know. Discovered by none other than Hyunjin, right before any other guy all over you could.
“Shit,” you curse under your breath, your fingers instinctively latching to his black hair. You don't mean to pull it, but you find yourself using it as leverage, and Hyunjin finds himself groaning at it, “seems like I've discovered something about you too”.
He smiles and presses his lips and nose further against you, pretending to know every single inch of your core with his tongue. It's the first time he has you like this, and he isn't quite sure if he is doing alright —a couple of soft whimpers and quiet, strangled moans are falling from your lips, but that isn’t enough for Hyunjin.
"What else do you do?" He asks, and the question comes out more as a whimper than a casual, nonchalant voice. He is clearly affected by all of this, and you can tell by his hips rut against his bed as he touches you. “When you touch yourself, what else do you do?” 
One of your hands leaves his dark hair, and guide to your breasts. It always goes a little bit like that —your dominant hand maneuvers the toy against your clit, and your other hand focuses on your breasts and nipples, pinching and twisting them as you like.
Fuck, well, that's going to be a sight imprinted in Hyunjin's mind forever. The way your back arches as soon as your fingers tease your nipples, the way your chest elevates with a deep inhale. The way your hips buck against Hyunjin's touch, and how your toes curl just slightly at the stimulation.
He soon focuses again on his task, pumping two of his fingers inside you while his tongue takes care of your clit that has become more swollen than initially. 
He is doing anything he can to get to know you, to see how his touch is affecting you. And when his middle finger touches a spot inside your walls that he hadn't before, and you let out a guttural moan of his name, Hyunjin stops short.
“Did I-” 
He must think he hurt you. But it's all quite the opposite. 
“Right there,” you shake your head frantically, acquiring strength from, practically, nowhere to push your body up in your forearms again, “shit, again, do it again”.
And he complies. His middle finger curls, and the reaction he gets is the same, if not more pronounced, from you.
“You’re fucking dripping,” repeatedly, he manages to find a pace of his own. His fingers move slowly and deliciously inside of you, almost always touching that spot that has you moaning louder than before. That, added with the suck of his mouth around your clit, sends you to cloud 9.
You've never felt this before, on your own, and it scares you.
It feels more intense, and slightly painful. Your lower back hurts, you're sweating and you fear you might pee. 
It definitely feels as if you're going to pee.
“Hyunjin!” You gasp, your hands pushing him away, “I feel- ‘m gonna make a mess”. 
His heart is beating loud in his ears, and he feels the pressure of your thighs squeezing his face. The quick thought that he might be hurting you flies across Hyunjin's mind, but is quickly discarded when your hips move in sensual circles against him.
You must be close.
“Wait!” You gasp, and Hyunjin withdraws from between your legs, but his fingers continue fucking your pussy with an increased pace, “G-god, fuck, I’m-”.
You’re babbling, not making any sense. And Hyunjin feels his dick leaking precum, sticking to his underwear. Never in all his years of life had he been this hard, and it's hurting him to no end. At the same time, it feels deliciously torturing. 
He just fears he might come untouched.
“Close?” Hyunjin asks, and you just nod frantically. 
As if an expert, his palm hits your clit every time he bottoms his fingers out inside of you. A part of him tells him he should position himself back between your legs and make you come with his mouth and fingers; the other, however, urges him to crawl up, between kneeling and lying next to you, as his available hand guides your chin to him.
The sight is even better like this, Hyunjin thinks —your teary eyes and the hair sticking to your forehead and cheeks with sweat is something he might never be able to forget.
The way you're staring at him like you're scared, and confused, and oh so aroused. He is the reason behind your body shaking and your hands gripping the bed sheets underneath you; the reason behind your cries and whimpers, and the wetness between your legs.
All because of him.
"I think I'm coming," you manage to spit out in a strangled breath, and soon after lose complete control over your body.
Your back arches against his bed, your legs close around his wrist, and your body threatens to push him away. But Hyunjin doesn't let you —he embraces you, holding you in place as you ride your high. 
“There you go,” he murmurs, with a soft smile creeping through the corners of his lips.
Your trembling hand wraps around his bicep, and you can barely open your eyes without tearing up. Whatever just happened, you haven't experienced it before.
“Hyunjin,” you whimper yet again, feeling how your walls clench over and over around his fingers. It tired you, both mentally and physically —your toes feel funny from clenching them much, your legs are sore from being spread open for a while now, and your hips feel tired from all the tension that suddenly snapped minutes ago, “holy fuck, Hyunjin”. 
“I’m right here,” he tells you while leaving a quick kiss on your lips.
And then another.
And another.
And another, until it turns into a proper kiss, one that isn’t nearly as sloppy or fast as the ones he offered you before. This time, Hyunjin kisses you slowly, carefully, almost as if he is trying to soothe all that tension with his lips.
You place your hands on either side of his face, and he does the same —with ease, he manages to position himself on top of you, with so much care not to put all his weight on top. Hyunjin only breaks the kiss to look at you, and the way your lips form a subtle "o" when you feel his erection pressed against your lower abdomen is enough for him to run out of breath.
“We don’t have to- I mean, we don’t have to do it tonight,” Hyunjin murmurs, his lips barely touching yours. “We can stop right here, I’m okay with-” 
“Let’s do it,” you notice how he swallowed thickly and how his bright eyes resembling a deer caught in the headlights stare at you with just the same amount of fear and lust. 
To be your first; to mess around together, to experience what sex is all about.
You want this, and he wants this just as much. There's trust, and there is a promise —nothing can go wrong because that's exactly why you're doing it with each other.
Because there's no one else in this world you trust more than Hyunjin.
“Okay,” he exhales, backing away from your body to fully undress himself. And although it's not prohibited to look, you feel insanely awkward when your eyes meet his figure.
Hyunjin doesn't show much skin, not even during the summer days when you visited the beach or his parent's lake house. Seeing him shirtless was already much of a shock, but seeing him fully naked? That is a whole other story.
You feel your cheeks blushing and you need to look away before Hyunjin catches you staring, but it is already too late. 
“I’m sorry,” you whisper, forcing yourself to keep contact with his eyes rather somewhere else.
Hyunjin licks his lips, and he does so in such a swift movement that it barely registers in your mind. But it does, and you can't stop thinking how attractive he is, and how awfully aroused he is making you feel. It's like your body has a mind of its own, one that's completely enticed by him.
“C’me here,” he kneels in the bed again, hovering your body. His erection pressed against your lower abdomen once again, and you let out an unexpected, almost embarrassing moan just by that alone.
He is hard, and his dick feels warm. You can't help but sneak a hand between your bodies and wrap it around him, making him curse under his breath.
It's the first time you see (in real life, anyway) and touch a dick; you're not sure what you were expecting, but the feeling of it isn't bad. However, it isn’t as nice as the sight of Hyunjin's eyes closed shut, and his bottom lip caught between his lips.
“If you touch me again, I'm going to come,” he warns you.
“And isn’t that what you want?” You ask, stroking him softly. You’re barely discovering how to touch him, but there’s something pleasant about the way you’re exploring him.
“Not before fucking you,” Hyunjin tells you, “I have to make you feel good again”.
He straightens his body slightly and puts a condom on. It is tight around the base, and too slippery for his own liking, but he can't complain about it when you're patiently waiting for him. 
Your eyes never abandon his figure, and just the sight of him unwrapping a fucking condom and putting it on is more than enough to make you clench around thin air. And you're too lost in that thought, of how strikingly beautiful Hyunjin looks tonight, that you don't feel any sort of panic until the tip of his dick slides against your slit.
This is really happening, you think to yourself, and suddenly all the oxygen from the room has vanished, leaving you with a heavy chest and an awful sensation that you're choking.
“You okay?” He asks when he catches a glimpse of your furrowed eyebrows.
“Just nervous,” your eyes dart between his face and the parts of your bodies where you almost meet. You've heard awful stories about first times, involving a lot of pain and discomfort; why would yours be any different than those?
You feel your heart beating in anticipation, and your throat gets dry.
“I'm not going to hurt you,” Hyunjin says, leaning down to kiss you, “I’ll be careful”. 
You nod, because you know he is telling the truth. So you brace yourself by holding his biceps, watching as he guides his dick inside of you.
“Inhale,” he tells you, and you follow. Your lungs get filled with fresh air until they hurt, until you no longer can harbor any more oxygen.
And only then, the tip of it slides right in easily, with just the tiniest bit of discomfort —your fingers and toys are not close to the size he is.
“Fuck”. 
“Let it all out,” and you exhale deeply, relaxing underneath him as he finally bottoms out. He stays there, without moving, feeling how your walls adapt to his girth. Hyunjin kisses your cheek, and snuggles his face in the crook of your neck to leave a couple of them there, too, “good job”. 
You whimper, wrapping your arms around his neck just as your legs wrap around his hips.
His weight on top of you feels nice, just as it does having him inside of you. But you're desperate to know how he really feels, so you prompt him to move.
“I’ll go slow,” and he sticks to his word. His thrusts are slow, but deep —every time he bottoms out, you moan.
You're just getting used to him, so the way he is fucking you is more than enough for now. And it is enough for him, too —if he goes any faster, he is sure he will come.
But he maintains a certain pace, and your bodies get to meet each other in a way they hadn't before. 
“Does it feel good?” You ask him in a murmur, and he hums in response.
“So good,” his eyes never leave yours. “You feel so good, your pussy feels so good”.
You bite your lips, wanting to hold back whatever reaction his words elicit from you. 
There's something lewd about his voice, and the way he says things tonight. There's something lewd in the way you like it, too.
“You feel good too,” you compliment him, caressing the sides of his face. “Want to come again, with you”. 
Hyunjin nods, as if you’re giving him an order for him to follow. But you might as well have, because he takes it upon himself to give you what you want. One of his hands sneak between your sweaty bodies, and albeit difficult, he manages to position the tip of his fingers over your clit, rubbing it at the same pace as his thrusts.
“Oh my God,” you whisper, closing your eyes shut when you feel a pinch of pain from the overstimulation. 
It's crazy how many things Hyunjin has learned about you in the past hour.
“Does it feel good when I touch you like this?” He manages to ask, and you nod frantically.
His hand then withdraws from your clit, and when you're about to protest, you notice his mouth is leaning closer to your chest, “what-”. 
He then latches his tongue around one of your hardened nipples, and you become a mess of whimpers underneath him.
“And this?” Hyunjin asks with his lips attached to the flesh of your breast, “does it feel good when I do this?”
You might as well have figured something about you.
“It feels so good, Hyunjin,” you chant, with teary eyes that threaten to start bawling in ecstasy, “so good, fuck, so good”.
He continues, sucking on your nipple while his fingers tease the other. And you really seem to like it because you can't stop moaning, because all your hands do is to force him even more against your chest. 
“Squeezing me so good,” Hyunjin mutters under his breath, losing control of himself as he feels you clenching around him. He's drooling over your breasts, swollen and pink lips dragging across your flesh while his hips start spasming, “God, you’re so fucking tight”.
You sneak a hand between your bodies, and when your digits brush against your clit, you feel your body jolting, and the tension threatening to unravel. 
You're so close, again.
And you hope he is close too.
“I’m-” You don't manage to finish the sentence when Hyunjin's fingers replace yours, “Hyunjin!”
You mean to keep your eyes open, to look at him in between, but you finally give up to the overwhelming pleasure. You close them shut, and all you're left with is the feeling of Hyunjin's body against yours, and the sounds you and him are eliciting from each other. 
“Close?” And you nod frantically, tightening your limbs around him —your arms around his neck, your legs around his lower back. 
You’ve hugged Hyunjin before, but nothing will ever compare to this; to your naked bodies pressing together, to his lips murmuring sweet nothings against yours. 
To share something as intimate as an orgasm can be.
“Coming,” you whisper weakly, hiding your face in the crook of his neck. And at the same time, Hyunjin lets out a painful, choked groan.
His throat hurt at it, but not nearly as much as the tension finally unraveling did. 
Not as much as the sight of your hazy eyes looking up at him as you both come down from your highs.
Not as much as the realization that it was all over.
“Hyunjin,” you whimper again, and your loud heartbeats, and the way you're still clenching around him is preventing him from listening to your voice. He sees your lips moving, but he is too far gone in the bliss of his orgasm to care.
“God,” you close your eyes shut and hide your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent. 
You don’t want him to let go of you, to pull out. You want to stay like this for as long as you’re able to.
And Hyunjin wants it too, plopping all of his weight carefully on top of you. He presses a kiss to your temple, and then your forehead. Nothing in his life has ever felt this good before, and he fears he might not be able to live a moment like this again.
"Did I hurt you?" He just has to ask again, now that you're settled between his arms.
You shake your head subtly, and look up at him with so much gloss and sentiment he feels a pinch of hope you feel the same way he feels about you. 
"Not once," you exhale, offering the most beautiful smile Hyunjin has seen on you.
And when you press a quick peck to his lips and snuggle right next to him, with your head on his chest and your hand over his abdomen, 
he just knows it will happen again. 
And again.
And again.
And again.
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Bonus note: If you liked this, PLEASE let me know. I'm kind of nervous putting this out there because I've been away for so long, I'm not even sure if this is any good. Hope you enjoyed reading it as much as I did writing it. It is nice to connect with past hobbies to be honest.
Love you all! And take care!
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lesbianmarrow · 3 days
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augh. rewatched btvs 5x22 scene where spike & buffy go to buffy's house to get weapons before the big showdown. them having to retrieve weapons is such an amusingly flimsy excuse to have them go to her house so we can have the scene where she invites him in + he promises to protect dawn + "i know you'll never love me" speech. i love a paper-thin excuse to put 2 characters in a room together. especially when those characters are buffy and spike!!!!!!!!!!!!
it really is so striking the way spike refrains from asking buffy to let him in even though he would be perfectly justified in doing so as it's obvious that buffy has forgotten he's not allowed in. i think part of it is that he wants to make it clear that he will respect the boundaries she has set with him. but i also think part of it is that he doesn't wanna feel the pain of being rejected again, because that fucking hurt. if he doesn't ask then he doesn't have to hear her say no again. it shows how head over heels he is for her and how much he has changed since the beginning of the season, when he was challenging her boundaries so much.
spike's expression when he's walking thru the doorway......it's so endearing and some really great acting from james marsters. first surprise and disbelief, then glee which spike is trying very hard to restrain because these are grave times. and yet he can't help feeling so joyous that buffy trusts him. he glances as the doorway like he's thinking "ah yes what a nice house" which makes me laugh because it's so stupid but also sweet. i think it's him trying to play it cool and doing a not so good job of it. there's such a lightness to him - it reminds me of the feeling when you think you did something to upset your friend a few days ago and you're anxious that they've been angry with you all this time and you finally gain the courage to ask them about you and it turns out they were never angry or upset at all. the giddy relief you feel.
and then there's that little moment of tension where they're standing so close together and you think something might happen but then spike breaks off and goes to the weapons chest and starts rambling about what they should take. it's so notable that it's him who gets nervous and moves away. so different from the way he behaved with her in fool for love, getting up in her space and trying to make her admit she had feelings for him. he's accepted that she'll never love him back, and moments like this where it feels like maybe there could be something between them are too painful, so he disrupts the moment. moves away.
jumping to the end of the scene - i love that buffy is on the stairs when spike does his little speech. she's physically above him. "you're beneath me." not only that, she's ascending, just as she ascends at the end of the episode, accessing a level of heroism that spike will never be able to meet. rewatching this part, spike's expression really surprised me. when he says "i know you'll never love me," he doesn't look at all bitter or resentful. his face is open, understanding, compassionate, and thankful. because that's what this speech is - he's thanking her for treating him better than he deserves. he's so grateful for the respect and trust she has given him. it has been truly transformative, as we've seen. only he doesn't get to the actual thanking part, because he cuts himself off, saying he'll wait for her down here. i think he cuts himself off because he realizes that this isn't what buffy needs to hear right now. she's got an enormous battle to prepare for, and a sister to save, and spike's feelings simply aren't important. so he stops mid-sentence for her sake. i think we're meant to understand that the only reason he started to say this at all is that he really thinks he might die tonight and it could be his last chance to let her know what it has meant to him to be treated like a person capable of doing good.
i've focused on what's going thru spike's head in this post bc i think buffy is a lot harder to read here. which is interesting bc sarah michelle gellar as buffy is so expressive that usually you can always tell exactly what buffy is thinking. but when she's with spike in these episodes toward the end of season 5 it's difficult to tell how she regards him. i think a lot of the time even she doesn't really understand how she feels about him. their relationship is so paradoxical. she relies on him but she reviles him. she wants him around but she finds him intolerable. i might rewatch the scene again and make another post about what might be going thru buffy's head, but for now i'll leave it at saying that i kind of love how spike's feelings for buffy are crystal clear to us and buffy's feelings for spike are much murkier. spike started out as this cool mysterious antagonist, whereas buffy has always been the protagonist and we're constantly seeing things from her point of view and being made to understand how she feels. so it's kind of fun to see that flipped a little bit. and it also rings really true for me how buffy in this moment is like, i have 5 billion things to be worrying about right now, i cannot even begin to process whatever feelings i may or may not have regarding spike. and with all of that said........there really is a softness to the way she treats him in this scene. and it's nice.
anyway. these two ✌️ gonna go jump off a tall tall tower
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orimuraa · 15 hours
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⋆ ˚。⋆୨୧˚ Gotta make that money make purse - OT7
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(synopsis) ✰⋆⁺ when enhypen loves spoiling their girlfriend ༯
ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ✰⋆⁺ fluff ✰⋆⁺ enha is richhh ✰⋆⁺ headcannon ✰⋆⁺ wc 762
✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡✗♡
𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승
he would probably take you on weekly shopping sprees at the very high end stores
wouldn’t let you buy anything with your own money
gets sulky when you do :(
he would give you his card whenever he was away so you could still spend
since he’s a prada ambassador, you have everything prada
he loves smothering you with gifts because this big baby loves you so much !! (pls never leave him)
he gives off penthouse vibes, not mansion idk ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
overall, he just loves spoiling you so much <3
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성
okay here me out
he’s the type to surprise you with a luxury brand gift pretty much everyday
like, this man would be like
“surprise! i got you a chanel bag!”
my man is nawt here to play
he needs to make sure his princess is well taken care of !!!
he has a very very very fancy car that’s probably worth more than my life
and he loves to just take you out on little driving dates to random places to see the view
he’s just so romantic and loves you so so so much
𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤
my little jakey over here will never be caught not spoiling you
this man absolutely will go broke for you if it means you’re happy
you’ll be like, looking at something for a second longer than usual things and he’ll buy it for you
he saw that you liked a post of a golden retriever on social media, and bam! next day, you’re now owners to a baby golden retriever
he just loves spoiling you because you’re so beautiful and perfect and sweet to him that he wants to be able to pay you back somehow (even tho you told him you don’t need all these gifts)
gifts galore!!
𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈
he gives off the richest of the richest vibes
he’ll probably be the type to take you out to really expensive dinners and just spoil you so much
you would have an entire closet dedicated to the dresses and clothes he gifts you
he knows your exact style by now so whenever he sees something that reminds him of you, it’s bought
he would make sure to remind you not to spend your own money because why would you do that when you have his money? so silly
he loves you very much and he likes to show that through his gifts sometimes
and the result of that is your room being full of expensive items that have been gifted to you <3
𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우
he seems like the type to be a very rich person who doesn’t like to show it off too much idk
he would spend his money on super expensive skin care products so you two can have luxury skincare dates
he is superrrrr rich but he likes to spend it on more meaningful items rather then luxury brand stuff
he would make sure the item meant something to you and him but also make sure it was the best one, even if it meant it was hella expensive
he will though occasionally spoil you rotten with a luxury brand item
he cares for you so so so much <333
𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원
kinda like, sunoo, i feel like he would be more about spending lots of money on more meaningful things then just straight up expensive things
he likes to make things have meaning to it and so whenever you see it, it’s a happy thought
because his girl always deserves to be happy and loved
you two would share a really nice and expensive apartment together and it’s just super cozy
you wouldn’t expect a millionaire to be living there i guess is what i’m saying
but he will not allow you to pay for your own things because why would you when he’s around?
𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力
okay, unlike the other maknaes, nishimura riki is going full out
he will make sure everyone knows how much he spoils you
he LOVES to shower you in gifts from gucci, prada, chanel, etc. because his favorite hobby is spending money on you <3
in his eyes, you deserve anything and everything <3 he just loves you so so much
he would definitely make sure to spend lots on your hobbies too
even if it’s something small like, for example, collecting sonny angels! he would buy out the entire stock just for you
alllll the furniture in the house is above $1000
have y’all see his $6000 couch in his room??? yeah, that’s what’s in your guy’s shared apartment
he wants you to be appreciated the way you deserve <3
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sooo, new style today! please lmk if you like this style of writing or the other one better cause then it can help me and give me good feedback! tysm for reading, likes and reblogs are always appreciated!!!
⚘. Perm taglist: @vmpivory
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roosterforme · 23 hours
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I just saw the post about Darlin joking about him using a walker if they had a third baby.
I feel like Jake would have a real big doubt and guilt in himself one night about being too old for her. Maybe one day they're playing with their boys when the two are maybe like 6 and 3 and Darlin says she misses them being really small and now they kick and squeall when they get kisses because it's like icky.
That night maybe Jake is sitting on the side of the bed as Darlin gets in and she senses something is wrong and he asks her if she was with a younger guy would she have more kids as he feels he's holding her back. He definitely has a bit of self doubt as the daggers always tease him about being the old man of the house.
Btw love I adore your little blurbs for this fam. Today is probably the day I might catch up on a bunch but they are amazing 😍
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Oh, ouch. Yes. It would hit him sometimes that maybe certain things would be easier or better for you if you had a partner closer to your own age. (angsty below)
Your husband was one week away from turning forty-seven, and he just absolutely rocked your world in bed. "I like it when you do that thing with your tongue," you whispered, staring up at the ceiling as he sat on the edge of the bed, naked.
His back was to you now, but you heard him chuckle. "And I like it when you do that thing with your tongue."
You rolled toward him and groaned. You were going to be sore tomorrow. "I'll go check on the boys before we go to sleep," you said, kissing him when you stood.
After your robe was securely tied, you walked quietly in to check on both Liam and Asher who were sound asleep. Then you went back to your bedroom where Jake had barely moved an inch.
"They looked extra cute when they're asleep and not fighting over Legos or eating all of the food in the kitchen," you mused, dropping your robe again. "I kind of miss when they were tiny and didn't know how to argue."
Jake cleared his throat. "Would you want to have another baby? If you could?"
You stared at him, unable to read the expression on his handsome face. It was closed off. And you were confused.
"I don't understand," you told him, placing your hands nervously on your hips, suddenly very aware of how naked you were.
"Just answer me. Would you have wanted more than two? Would you have wanted to try for a girl?"
You swallowed hard and shook your head slowly. "You got a vasectomy. I wouldn't even be able to get pregnant again."
Jake ducked his head and looked at the floor. "I wanted the vasectomy, because I'm already the oldest parent in Asher's school pick up line."
You took a step closer. "Who cares about that? You're also the hottest dad in Asher's school pick up line."
He looked up at you and whispered, "Will you just answer the question?"
"I already did!" you snapped. "We decided about the vasectomy together. Last year. You didn't make the decision alone, Jake." His eyes were fixed on your face as you said, "I have never once looked at you and thought you were too old to do anything. I didn't want more kids. Some days I can barely handle the two we have."
You burst into tears, crossing your arms over your chest as you turned to get your robe from the floor again. Jake's arms were around you, pulling you toward the bed, and you let him take you there. "I didn't mean to make you cry, Darlin'," he whispered. "I just hate the idea that I could be holding you back."
"You're not," you sobbed, face buried against his neck as he pulled the covers over both of you. "All you do is make everything better. The boys and I woudn't want it any other way."
Jake held you until you felt calmer, his fingers trailing up and down your arm. "I won't doubt my wife again," he whispered, turning off the lamp.
"Don't you dare."
You fell asleep to the sound of the ocean and the feel of Jake's big hand on your back.
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inqilabi · 18 hours
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Another thing that I have observed over the years is that, not a lot of people are good at relationships. As in they don't know the fundamentals of a good relationship. And with that it follows, that for some people this comes naturally. And for some people this is learned.
A lot of people don't seem to be good at communicating in relationships. Meaning that they will let a thing that bothered them fester until it grows into resentment. And they bring it up once the resentment is bubbling. And obviously, because it's pent up, when do they do bring it up, it's in an explosive manner.
So everyone at some point learns that relationships are about communication. And they tell you this wisdom. But no one actually gives you the details and the formula
Communication is about
1) frequency. So don't let this fester. Bring it up right away
2) type of communication. So positive and the negative. Ie., things that are working but also not working. The positive communication will be, "oh I loved [action], because [what it made you feel]. You are so [the unique attribute about your partner that led to this behaviour]". This is what is going to build connection regularly. Regularly appreciating your partner. And not just in a generic manner. But in an instance specific manner.
Or in the negative "when the [situation/issue], it makes me [feeling], and if this continues to happen i will [feel/consequences]". It doesn't attack the partner and views them an opportunity to rise to meet your needs. And focuses instead on the situation / issue and the effect on you. This is what will maintain the relationship. Prevent it from going down.
3) manner of communication. You should never say "you always do this" "you never do this". That is not an productive way of conveying concern to your partner. That is just attacking them as mentioned in point #2. The person who is being addressed also should listen and not get defensive or criticism. If one person has legitimately brought up a concern, and the other person says "no i don't do that " or "it's not that big of a deal" or "well you did this [unrelated other thing so long ago]", this is a cause for concern. Men often do the latter and imo it's a red flag. A man should be able to listen to your concerns and not feel attacked if you have brought it up in a gentle let's tag-team this issue manner. If a man does get defensive or start criticizing you instead, he has an ego or insecurity problem. Thats one of the things that will chip away at a relationship. Is defensiveness and criticism.
There's other things that maintain relationships like taking interest in your partners interest, when they ask you to look at something or share something with you - then you should take interest. There's many people who might ignore it or outright dismiss it (chips away) or some might simply acknowledge it (maintains), where are some might take an interest and ask you questions on the thing youve shared. Ask you where you learned about it. What you found interesting about it. How it made you feel etc (builds relationships).
Some years ago I wrote a post, which I can't find now. But I found it so surprising in couples that I had observed that a man would so often dismiss his partners attempt to connect. I remember the instance I noticed this - I was at a desi Eid bazaar. And a woman came to her husband who was sitting with their child, giddily told him that she had haggled the price of a cloth down by 20 dollars. And instead of being proud of her and appreciating her, he said something along the lines of "you could have gotten it for 30 off". And I saw the joy disappear from her face. And he chipped away willingly. So bewildering to me that you have an opportunity to connect and build, so easily handed to you - and in so many couples, they reject it. It's like someone offering you a couple of dollars for free in a long-term investment, and you're like - nah thanks I'm good. Maddening!
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heybrownieboy · 2 days
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CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO: A MURDERER, A DEMON, AND AN ELEMENTAL?
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POV: 2nd Person. Y/N.
— Word Count: 2K+
Author’s Note: Finally an update :). In all honesty, I’ve been struggling with getting back into writing lately— after not having time nor mental energy to in so long— but, I’ve also have felt awful going M.I.A for over two months. So, while I was working on this, I decided to break up what I do have and give you all this little update. I wanted to reassure you all that I am NOT giving up on this SMAU. At all. I will be continuing and finishing it. But for now, I hope you enjoy this. I apologize for it being short but, I promise the next chapter is much longer (once I’m able to actually put this one damn scene into words 😭).
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“Do you honestly think this is a good idea?” 
You tore your eyes away from your TV—which was currently playing reruns of “Happiness”— and to the spirit siting on the couch next to you.
“What?” you asked. 
“Tonight,” Minho said. “Do you honestly think going to that shrine tonight is a good idea?” 
“Yes,” you said. 
“That caretaker is crazy, Y/N. Like completely batshit crazy."
“So I’ve heard,” you said.
“I mean it,” Minho said, exasperated. “I think he’s the one that actually killed Jisung and I.” 
Your eyes widened. “Wait what?” you asked. 
“I don’t remember a lot from that night,” he said. “Like at all. And I know you said spirits tend to forget more and more things the longer their earth bound.” 
You nodded at that. 
“But I remember some snippets of that night,” Minho said. “And I think he was there. I swear saw him for a spilt second. I was too shocked when I found…” He took a deep breath, an obvious expression of pain and grief crossing his face. “When I found Jisung’s body. So, I wasn’t exactly paying attention to my surroundings. I saw the caretaker run behind me from my peripheral vision. But, before I could react there was a rope wrapping around my throat.” 
“I thought you two were kidnapped?” you asked. 
“I think we were,” he said. “At least in a sense. Do you remember when Jeongin talked about that night he went to the mountain alone?” 
“He said he doesn’t remember the car ride there,” you said quietly. 
“Or half of his hike through the woods,” Minho finished. "Not until he heard Jisung. From what I remember, something similar happened to me.” 
“It was probably the demon controlling you,” you said. “They’re good at that. It’s like a semi-possession.” You rubbed your temples. “So I’m about to go spy on a murderer, a demon, and an elemental?”
“What do you think they’re doing up there?” Minho said.
“Honestly I don’t know. I feel like I don’t know anything. Everything for me with this whole thing has been guesses.” 
“Yet you’re still trying to help,” Minho said. 
“Of course I am,” you said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “Why wouldn’t I?” 
“Because it’s dangerous and you could get hurt,” he said. “Or even die.” 
You shrugged. “It’s not the first time I’ve almost died.” 
“Yeah,” Minho said slowly. “What’s with that huh? How are you alive and have been to hell?” 
You winced. “It was a long time ago,” you said. “And in all honestly I don’t really like talking about it much.”
“I get that,” Minho said. “And I won’t push you to talk about something you don’t want to. Hell was the worst thing I ever experienced in my life. I mean, yeah I guess it’s Hell but, I never expected it to be like…”  He grimaced at the memories.
“Yep,” you agreed, completely understanding of what he meant. 
“I thought it was just going to be super hot.” Minho let out a humorless chuckle. “I wasn’t exactly religious before all this so, I guess I never really read up on it.”
“You could say Dante wasn’t too far off,” you said. “And I do think it’s a little different for everyone.” 
“Yeah. Sometimes Jisung and I would see different things.” 
You squinted at the spirit. “Have you seen any other spirits lately?” 
Minho tilted his head at you. “No actually,” he said. “Now that I think about it. The only one I’ve seen all week is Jisung. Why?” 
“Fucking hell,” you grumbled. You leaned against the back of your couch, head thrown back and eyes staring up at the ceiling. “I’m starting to think that’s what these rituals are for. Because in my twenty years of life, I’ve never gone a day without seeing a least four or five spirits. I’ve only seen three others— besides you and Jisung— in the last week. That’s it. And it been over a week since I’ve seen a demon.” 
“That’s not a good thing?” 
“God, I wish it was. But, no it’s not.” 
“Fuck,” Minho breathed. “So, what should we do? I knew this was complicated and dangerous but this? This seems next level.” 
“I don’t know…” You threw up your hands exasperated. “I feel like that’s all I’ve been saying lately. ‘I don’t know’. It’s so fucking frustrating.” 
“Hey, hey, hey,” Minho said softly. “You’re trying. You’re helping us even if you don’t have to. And so far you’ve done an amazing job okay?”
You have him a half hearted smile. “Thank you,” you said.
“Is there maybe any kind of research you can do on this?” he offered. “I mean, there has to be some answers out there somewhere right?” 
“Maybe,” you said. “I only have like an half an hour before Jay and Nico pick me up though. And kind of search isn’t something I have easy access too. Not to mention it’s the supernatural. Nothing is finite. There’s thousands of rituals out there. And thousands more that aren’t recorded.” You nibbled on the inside of your cheek nervously.
“You grew up in a family of Shaman right?” Minho asked. “Can’t you ask like an elder or something for help?” 
You scrunched your nose at that. “I don’t talk to most of them anymore,” you said. “But, I do have someone I could call. My aunt should be able give me some kind of advice.” 
You leaned over to grab your cell phone off the coffee table. It should be around five P.M in London right now. You scrolled to your aunt’s contact and hit call. It only took a few rings for the line to be picked up
“Y/N-ah.” 
The sound of your Aunt Bora’s gentle voice on the other side of the line immediately had you relaxing. The tension that had building up all day seemed to almost completely melt away. 
“Hi,” you said softly. “How are you?” 
“I’m doing great, honey,” your aunt said. “But what about you? It’s almost one A.M in Korea right now. Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” 
“I wish I could,” you said. “But I’ve been stressed out lately and couldn’t sleep.” 
“Stressed out about school?” Bora asked. “Because you shouldn’t be. I know studying to get your nursing degree can be challenging but you’re extremely intelligent, Y/N. You’ll make an amazing nurse in the future.” 
You smiled at that. “Thank you,” you said. You let out a soft sigh. “But that’ not the reason I called you. I need advice. On the supernatural.” 
“Oh? What do you mean? What’s happening?” 
“Do you remember those two men that went missing last year?” you asked.
“Yes,” Bora said. “Lily-ah and Natty-ah knew them through friends, correct? What were their names again?” 
“Lee Minho and Han Jisung,” you said. You glanced at Minho for a second. He was the one now leaned back into the couch watching you contently. 
“Didn’t you try to help find them last year?” your aunt asked.
“I did,” you confirmed. “But I couldn’t. I didn’t find a trace of them physically or spiritually.” 
“I’ve always found that strange. It’s almost like…” 
“Someone might have been hiding them.” 
“Exactly,” Bora said. “Did you finally find them?” 
“Kind of,” you said. “It’s more like they found me. Well, technically Jeongin found me.”
“Jeongin?” 
“Their friend. Um, how do I even explain?” 
“Start from the beginning yeah?” Bora said, her voice gentle. “Tell me everything you know.” 
And so you did. You explained how Jeongin originally had come to you or “Eris” for advice because he thought his friend was haunting him. How that turned out to be correct and that Minho was in fact trying to get through to him. You explained how you saw Minho and then had the premonition about Jisung. You explained their spiritual debt and how they were tricked by those three. How they had to escape hell and how half of their soul was stolen from them.
“So,” Bora said slowly, “you’re trying to help them break their spiritual debt and move on?” 
“Yes,” you said, with a slight wavier to your voice.
“But?” 
“But that’s not all. One of the trio he made a contract with was human. A living human. Minho is pretty sure that he’s the one that murdered them.” 
“Y/N,” your aunt said lowly. “You can’t confront a murder.” 
“Oh, I’m not done though.” 
There was a few beats of silence before your aunt asked, “What do you mean?”
“In the past week or so, I’ve seen three spirits and no demons,” you said. “Only one of those spirits talked to me. And all it did was ask for the time.” 
“Asked for the time? Spirits never ask for the time. Unless…” 
“Unless they’re being summoned somewhere,” you said. “I think they’re all being summoned to that mount Minho and Jisung went missing on. By the human.” 
“You think he’s summoning them all there for something bigger,” Bora said. 
“Exactly,” you said. “He’s been preforming rituals for about two weeks. At least that we know of. “
“He’s most likely a Shaman. A very powerful one. Rituals like that? They aren’t easy. At all.” 
“I know,” you said.
“And I’m guessing there’s more,” Bora said with a soft sigh. 
“The other two being they made this contract with are supernatural. One is a demon. But the other one, neither Minho or Jisung knew what it was. They said it was different from the demon.” 
“Don’t tell me…” 
“I’m pretty sure it’s an elemental, yeah.” 
“Y/N,” your aunt said voice now taking on a firm, cold edge. “You need to stay away from elementals. They can and will kill you if you ever get in their way. Forget the murderous shaman. Elementals are not bound to the same rules as demons. Not to mention they hate humans more than demons ever have.” 
“I know,” you said. “I do but…” You took a deep breath. “I cannot not help. There’s something seriously wrong.” 
“It doesn’t matter. This is your lif—“ 
“They have wards to keep away angels,” you said cutting your aunt off. 
“What?” she asked, utter disbelief overtaking her tone.
“Minho said that the mountain is littered in wards keeping angels out,” you said. “Namely Azrael.” 
“That’s impossible.” 
“You would think. At first he thought it was just the hellhounds being kept out. They got too close to the mountain and they were repelled, But he said that Azrael has not been able to get onto the mountain at all either. That the barrier the wards created repelled him as well.” 
The other line went silent. After a few moments you began to worry that the call had disconnected. 
“Hel—“ 
“I don’t like this Y/N,” your aunt said quietly. “At all. I understand Azrael is probably the last angel you want to see since… since all of that happened. But he’s still an angel. He’s still a protector. If you go on that mountain, you have absolutely no protection. Not against the Shaman nor the elemental.”
“I realize that,” you said. “And I completely understand that. But like I said. There’s something seriously wrong happening. I think Minho and Jisung were apart of whatever plan they have going on. Not to mention they’ve been talking about Jeongin. Another human life they most likely want to take. They’ve been planning this for at least a year now, Aunt Bora. Whatever it is, it’s huge. God know how many people will eventually be dragged into this."
Your aunt let out a heavy, defeated sigh. “Okay,” she said. “Okay. I know there’s no way to talk you out of this.” Another sigh left her lips. “ Let me think for a few minutes. Maybe I can help.” 
You smiled. “Thank you,” you said. “So much.” 
Your aunt simply hummed. After a few minutes she began speaking again. “How were those to boys killed? Do you know? I might be able to narrow down what ritual they’re trying to get ready up for.” 
“They were strangled,” you said. You peered at Minho for a second, your eyes focusing on the wound around his neck.. “Well, honestly it looks like the rope cut into their throats. They both have these huge infected gashes.” 
“Infected?” Bora asked. 
You copied her hum from a few moments ago. “Yeah.”
“Y/N, if they were dead, how could their wounds be infected?” 
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alexanderwales · 3 days
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The worst thing about creative AI right now is that it produces bad results. The writing is bad, the images are bad, and the video is bad. It's impressive, sometimes, that the technology works as well as it does, but it's still bad.
I think if you sit down and go through a few hundred generations, then tweak and edit and inpaint and think intently, you can sometimes get something worth putting in front of people, if you have the right eye for it. I could definitely edit up an AI-written short story into something worth reading, especially if I was the one who had fed it the prompt and gone through the work of having my own ideas to insert. I think at least part of the output would be the AI's, and I could carve away everything that was nonsense or just bad, leaving only a few turns of phrase or some general boilerplate structure ... and this would take more time and effort than just writing the thing myself.
Most people who use generative AI do not want to do any work, and in fact, have no conception of what work would be required. Most of them are consumers, not producers, and they're used to the modes of content consumption, where you don't look closely at the details. Generative AI, in its current state, just kind of sucks when you're in a "press button, get results" mindset.
The stuff generated by "press button, get results" is the vast, vast majority of AI art that you will see, even accounting for filtering effects. There are a lot of people who have no love of artistry producing artwork via machines that are not good at making artwork, sometimes just for a lark, sometimes with profit in mind, and it's threatening to drown out other stuff in spite of being bad.
This is my thesis: generative AI produces bad results, and this is possibly the worst thing about it. If it were able to produce good results, I think that a lot of people would be less opposed to it. If you could get a short story that was worth reading, or a picture worth looking at, for no additional effort of manipulation or prompt engineering or whatever else, then we would be flooded with good art instead of bad art.
When it comes to art, I care about how it makes me feel, and what it's trying to say, and where the intent is, and what ideas it has. AI is not there. Possibly it will never get there. But sometimes I see a picture that the AI has made, and I do feel something in the sweep of the lines, or the composition, or just the juxtaposition of elements. It's just really really rare, and the product of either chance or really careful work on the part of some human. It's not something that the AI can do reliably, at least at the moment. You can also quibble about intent, because the AI "has none", but I find beauty in nature too, which is not trying to make a statement with its sunsets, and whose intents, if they can be said to exist, are mostly about things that are orthogonal to my perceptions, like the plumage of a sparrow or the curved leaves of a fern. To me, art is art because of the way that it can be read and the emotions that I feel when I look at it. Contentious, I'm sure, but I don't find other definitions all that useful.
But the art that the AI makes is, unless expertly guided, bad. And there's a ton of it, and it's impacting the ability of real artists to make superior work.
I think the future I see, if the AI doesn't get better, is one where we have a bunch of cheap shit that's replaced a lot of good expensive things. I am in favor of cheap things, but I'm not in favor of shit. I would love for translation to be as simple as pressing a button. I would love to have a good painting to go with every chapter I write. But we're in a world where the results mostly suck unless you're willing to put in quite a bit of effort and have some expertise in a field of creative endeavor, and that means we're in a world where the products are bad.
I'm interested to see how the conversation shifts if the results start getting better, because that seems to me like one of the sticking points.
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vrystalius · 2 days
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HI!! I’ve literally just been getting into Demon Slayer again, the phase never goes away 🥲
anyways, would it be alright to ask for a Genya x reader who’s Gyomei’s hardworking Tsuguko who has a hard time taking breaks? Take your sweet time and have a great day/night ❤️
Just for one minute…
You’ve been overworking yourself to the bone, training during the day and taking patrolling shifts during the night. Genya is starting to get worried about you not taking enough breaks…
Pairing: Genya x gn!reader
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When’s the last time you’ve eaten? Drank some water? Heck, when did you even last sleep? Genya just finished his mandatory training for the day, watching you from the engawa of Gyomei’s estate. You’re really working hard to become stronger and more powerful and to become a hashira yourself one day, but this is a little too much on your body. Even Genya is starting to notice and that must mean something.
He had some sticky rice laid out on a cloth, positioned on his lap, making some onigiri with salmon filling. He carefully shaped them in his calloused hands, wanting them to look at least a little presentable. He’s not the best cook after all but wanted to make you a small meal to eat together, as some sort of reward for you working so hard. But also because Genya wants to personally see how you’re ingesting something edible other than hopes and prayers to not faint from exhaustion, dehydration or starvation.
To be quite honest, he may be using the food as an excuse to hang out with you a little. Gyomei continued to encourage him to speak and hang out with you to create a bond. It was obvious to Genya how his master tried to push you two closer. For example, assigning you to train and spar together, ordering you to patrol side by side during the nights or just frequently suggesting to hang out together during breaks. Doesn’t he know how much Genya sucks at talking to you? You make him extremely nervous with your pretty eyes and gorgeous smile, and especially with your kindness. You’re so attentive and nice to him, it makes him nauseous every time.
Genya figured it’s his turn to he nice and attentive for once, so he called you over to have lunch with him.
“I made too many onigiris to eat alone, want some? You’re probably hungry, haven’t seen ya eat at all today.”
You can’t resist saying no to that hopeful, little smile of his, but after sitting down together and letting your body rest, you fell into a minute long sleep while still slowly chewing onto the rice. Your body leaned over and against the railing and your mouth was slightly agape, the rice beginning to fall out onto the wood below. Genya worriedly shook you awake from your one-minute-nap.
“Hey… you should drop some night shift or at least let me do them. You really need to rest. I-I’m worried about you.”
He turned his head away after finishing his sentence, wanting to hide this stupid blush that is taking over his whole face. Is he seriously not able to control his face around you? Like, at all?! It’s extremely embarrassing and is probably coming off as childish!! But as Genya was beating himself up for being so flushed around you, he heard a soft sigh escape your lips.
“Just one more minute…”
Your voice made him turn his head towards you. You just hunched over and fell into a deep sleep, your mouth slightly agape. Again. Well, at least you chewed your rice until this time, but you failed to swallow it all since some still stuck to your cheek. You looked so awfully tired and yet peaceful in this sleeping state. Genya groaned quietly and slowly wrapped his arms around your shoulder, carefully shifting your position to lean your head against him, your full weight resting against his body.
Genya took the half-eaten onigiri out of your hands and put it onto the cloth he got it out from, wrapping it back up and placing it aside for the moment. He wiped the rice sway from with his sleeve.
You can eat the onigiris later, but for now, you really needed the sleep. He smiled slightly at your adorable expression while his hand soothingly started rubbing your shoulder. Genya’ll let you rest like that for as long as you like. You really deserve it.
💠
Hello, hello! Currently I’m uploading this from my mobile data so I am hoping and praying that I have enough to last for three days in this wlan-lacking-establishment. It’s nice though, me and my friend get to share a large room and we are right next to the forest and a creak! Also, so sorry for completing this request so late, hope you enjoyed it anyway!! I’m currently receiving a lot of asks to continue my Gyutaro fic and I am currently trying to figure something out!! Just know I am thinking about it a lot and am really trying to come up with something XD (Man, I really suck at doing part 2s. :,))
Anyways, make sure to EAT, SLEEP and DRINK enough! It’s currently 1am and I need sleep desperately. XD
Take care of yourselves <3
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adoreu-carat · 3 days
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Hoping that this is a safe space for a veteran carat.
I’m I the only one that thinks that carats who only use twitter and newer stans have WAY more different opinions in general and higher standards??
Like, this may sound so dumb but whenever they are criticizing something about svt, most of them compare it to other groups, for example, saying things like “why can’t they do this like so and so” “why is pledis not doing this like so and so’s company” “I’m not gagging, it feels boring” “I looked at svt’s concept photos and sighed” like ?????
Why are they being so critical about it??? It’s one thing to say “Oh it wasn’t to my liking” or “I see it but it looks simple to me” instead of completely bashing the group and company and being so mean about it.
Don’t get me wrong, I don’t like pledis either and I know they’ve made so many shitty decisions since before svt debuted but also I’ve been a kpop stan for more than a decade and I know, like many other stans, how those companies work, we know how comebacks work, it’s not great and it might never be.
Not one single company OR group is prefect.
So I really don’t get the hate for this comeback’s concept considering it’s the last one that it’s OT13 in who knows how long.
And that’s why I’m feeling so old because yes BACK IN THE DAY we had nothing like what we have today, back in they having 2 ver. of an album was already big, different versions and whole different designs of the albums not just a change of color was so cool, having like 300+ variations of photocards was WILD. And also having them available?? Being able to buy not just on the internet but in our own countries when back in the day the only option was buying from South Korea??? Like kpop in general has come so far and I feel like SOME stans are just too greedy and ungrateful.
So, unpopular opinion I gues?
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Fossil Ingo meets a new friend.
Writing + bonus art beneath the cut:
Little Pearl
TWs: Mentions of Former Death/Revival ~1200 Words (4-5 minutes)
Amidst the chaos of all the other events his Sinnoh "vacation" has thrown at him, Emmet receives a call.
The mines where Ingo was initially 'recovered' had been sectioned off since the day he sat up on the table. (Not that Emmet had any intention of going back.) The archeologists and historians of the region were concerned there may be a burial site nearby or some other location of cultural significance and so mining in that area was closed off. However, they've found something else important while they were excavating the site. Very near to where the rock was first disturbed, they uncovered a fossil- a proper fossil this time. A dome fossil.
No one has been able to confirm it yet, however, because of its proximity to where Ingo's remains had been unearthed... It's very likely that this Kabuto is the one he now shares DNA with.
Emmet brings Ingo with him to the Oreburgh museum- Although, it is more like Ingo is dragging him along for the ride. He is far more enthusiastic about this than Emmet is- In fact, he'd really like to be anywhere else. He would really like to go home, but they can't do that until they find a safe and comfortable way to help Ingo travel long distances. And also, he needs to wait for the investigation on him to close. Preferably with an innocent verdict. Which is probably the more pressing matter of the two.
They're allowed to take a look at the fossil before its revival. Without a doubt, and with proper steps taken to verify this time, this is a Dome fossil. There are a few pearls, likely the same from Ingo's burial, that have become embedded in the surface of the rock around it. A familiar thought crosses his mind. This could be verrry special. Even the minor influence caused by the rare mineral could potentially shape this pokemon's future- Ingo had been changed just because of the spare stuff that happened to be in the earth with him.
The wait in the lobby is excruciatingly long, for Ingo. Emmet can tell he would be pacing if he were any younger; his spines are constantly twitching, betraying some kind of emotion that Emmet hasn't puzzled out yet. The correct answer is Excitement. Ingo is positively thrilled at the prospect of getting to meet the pokemon with which his fate has intertwined.
Moreover, he can raise it himself! They can start this new life together, two strange beings out of place in this time, no one else quite like they are. Ingo isn't alone anymore, not with Emmet by his side. This little pokemon won't need to be alone either. Never has the prospect of a fresh start sounded more bright.
The moment the scientist returns from the back to give them the good news, Ingo lifts himself to his feet. He'd like to be the first to welcome back this new life. He turns the corner to find a little rock-type on a nearby countertop. It's barely been moved from the machine that restored it, frozen stiff. If it was any more still, Ingo would mistake it for the rock it use to be minutes before.
The various kind folks in charge of the operation give him a bit of space to approach the little pokemon, coming closer at a gentle pace to keep the tension low. Joints bidding, he kneels down at the counter to reduce his height as a factor. Up close, he can see it trembling oh-so-slightly.
"Welcome back, little one... How do you feel..?" He keeps his hands on his knees, only observing as it subtly shrinks back before poking forward again curiously. He can just barely see the tips of its claws peeking from under its shell. He chuckles softly, turning to the kind folks nearby. "Remind me, what did you say was the name of this species?" "Kabuto, the Shellfish Pokemon." Respecting his careful handling of the situation, they answer quietly.
"Thank you very much." He returns his attention to the Kabuto, who has slowly inched closer to him on the table. There are pearls encrusted along its shell, reflecting the afternoon light brilliantly. It's claws are less hidden now, revealing a gorgeous iridescent luster.
"I imagine you are quite confused... Perhaps, overwhelmed." "However, you need not fear," Ingo's knees protest as he picks himself back up again, bending to keep himself lower than his full height. He offers a grateful whisper to Mighty Sinnoh for whatever was done to him having eased a lot of the aches that came with his age.
Softly and slowly, he sets his rougher, rockier left hand on the table a few inches away from his shelled friend, letting it lay loosely on the smooth countertop. "You see, little one... Our lives are quite interconnected." He smiles as it curiously shuffles forward to investigate. "Our chance encounter through an accident of unlikely proportions has tied us together. I was returned to life, just as you have been."
It pokes a claw at his hand, and he slowly picks up his fingers to offer forward. "Through whatever happenstance caused us to share the earth between us, through however the burial rights of my clan have affected the fabric of your being, regardless... Our cabs now share many traits, you and I."
"I feel a closeness to you, silly though it may sound." The Kabuto repeatedly taps its pearlescent claw against his thumb in quick succession, as though swatting him away. It doesn't hurt even slightly.
"I will keep you safe. We can explore this grand world together, no matter what changes may await us." "...Would you like to join me on this new frontier?"
It taps its shell against the tough exterior of his hand a few times, continuing to poke around at anything that appears to catch its attention.
After a minute or so, Ingo can feel positively itty pin-pricks over his skin as it uses its hooked claws to crawl over his hand. He can't help but laugh, rewarding its curiosity and trust by bringing his less armored hand to pet it softly. "Excellent!" It seems ticklish around its underbelly, he notes with delight as he scratches the edges its shell. "I look forward to exploring the new tracks ahead of us! I'd best study up on how to use these merits of yours, especially now that I have one to teach... Or perhaps I've gained a teacher?"
He reflects on the journey ahead of him and the life he left behind as he views the world through the reflection of the largest pearl along its spine. The sensation of its claws along his hand is the same as that from the darling kits of his Lady. The pearls were bestowed to him in his passing, a demonstration of the pride and honor felt by his clan for his service as her warden. The lives of many loved ones have been closed to him, now, but the lives of those he had forgotten have opened to him once again.
He will draw comfort from the past, and bring their strength ever onward into the future. An easy smile graces his lips as he lifts his new partner higher, supporting it firmly but with great care. Mirth fills his old soul under the gaze of four beady eyes. In his renewed beating heart, compassion burns warmer than the sun.
"...I cannot wait to grow alongside you, Little Pearl."
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Fossil AU Masterpost
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yuurivoice · 2 days
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Hi Yuuri I just wanted to say I miss Howell. That’s all I hope you have a good day😊
I do too! There's still a lot about him I want to know and figure out. I was able to delve into him a bit more (and get some much needed closure) with some friends. I don't think he's really a character that I want to do various iterations of in different worlds and campaigns, because it's that specific story of his that I love. If it's removed from that world and story, I'd rather have another shot at a new character.
I was able to salvage a couple of relationships out of the rubble from the entire ordeal surrounding TnD, and I've got no beef with anyone who wasn't literal human trash, so Howell's place in my heart is unscathed in terms of being attached to a really shitty time and situation.
Reflecting on those days, that shit was a nightmare scenario. Obviously my own emotional turmoil pales in comparison to the literal criminal and victim in our midst, don't get that twisted because those most directly impacted by one asshole's actions should be the primary concern. It is a hell of a pill to swallow having something that dear to you go up in flames in such a public and grotesque way.
I don't blame anyone who feels any type of way about how it was handled and the aftermath of it. The truth of it all is, one person's really fucked up actions had widespread effects on a lot of people. The radius of that bomb was no joke.
Howell is very dear to me, and those Sundays were genuinely the favorite day of the week for me over that time. The backlash, anger, resentment, and then emptiness of it all really took its toll, as I'm sure it did on everyone caught in the blast zone.
The bad guy got got in the end, and I'm thankful for the folks who made sure that happened.
That year as a whole was really difficult. That wasn't the only heavy thing I had to work through that year. There was a stretch of six months that were probably the worst of my adult life in terms of interpersonal turmoil. The universe really took a bat to my kneecaps.
Saying ALLLLLLLL of that to say, if I had lost my love for Howell, it would have taken a significant toll on me creatively. I would not so freely share the parts of myself it takes to create the stories and characters I do now. I can pretty confidently say that something like Echoes or Shattered would never happen.
I struggled mightily with BitterSweet Chapter 3 for that reason. It was hard to want to carve out pieces of myself to share with the world, and certainly very difficult to work with anyone else out of fear that their bad actions could rob me of my passion even more.
But I learned a lot, and over that time I also think I was able to show my community how serious situations get handled while I'm at the helm. I hate that me and the team have been on the frontlines of a few really serious community PR nightmares, but I do think we've been able to exhibit an ability to treat things with maturity, respect, and direct action.
So Howell means a lot to me. We've been on two journeys, one fictional, and one real...and boy we've gotten our asses kicked more than a few times.
There is a chance, albeit a small one, that there's a DnD story to be told with Howell and some friends, for the world to partake in. Don't know if it'll happen, but the chances aren't 0%...
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raayllum · 15 hours
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Callum is so right about Rayla never doing anything for herself. You could say freeing Runaan was for herself but she also treats it as her "sacred promise" and chose him for Ethari too (shows how great her heart is). You think sparing Callum will finally count as her doing something for herself? Choosing her future and her love for him over the "greater good". She couldn't get her og parents back‚ this girl keeps losing and suffering she seriously deserves more wins
God, I could write an entire meta about that line - maybe one day when I'm feeling self indulgent. In regards to your actual prompt, re: saving Callum will count as something for herself -- a big yes, absolutely, I think! Though I think freeing her parents is something she deeply wanted for herself, too ("I miss you so much" / "so I wanted to do something for yourself for you") even if it was something she was continually putting off till the Aaravos situation, as far as she knew, was resolved
Prior to S6 I went back and forth on whether the show would frame Rayla's end of the possession plot line / trying to get Callum back as either "It doesn't matter what happens to me (again) I just want to save him" (which is what leaving in TTM and other moments was about) OR whether it'd be framed as "I refuse to sacrifice him / something I want (again)" and therefore be character development. I leaned towards the latter for reasons outlined here since the two have the chance to be even more thematically codependent than they already are in terms of their senses of identity:
As long as Callum is Callum (not possessed, or she has reason to believe he’s still in there), Rayla likely won’t be able to bring herself to kill him. This is from an emotional / characterization standpoint, of course, but from a thematic standpoint, we can see where it stems from Callum and Rayla continually being each other’s main connection to their sense of identity. As long as Callum is Callum (“you’re the destiny is a book you write yourself guy”), he’s worth saving. As long as Callum is Callum, she can be Rayla (“Rayla’s brave. She saves people” / “Rayla. My name is Rayla, and I’m going home”). As long as she’s Rayla, he can be Callum. Because if Callum isn’t Callum, then he’s dead, and if he’s dead, she can kill him. And if Rayla kills him, if Callum is dead, then she won’t be Rayla anymore. Because to literally kill Callum would be to simultaneously symbolically/emotionally kill herself.
This goes both ways of course - Callum can't/won't sacrifice Rayla because to do so would be to sacrifice a fundamental part of himself (namely his deep and Pure devotion to others which means he'll never go entirely down the negative side of Viren's path, and keep to the positive - leaving Aaravos, breaking free, etc). This was subtext prior to S6, but now it's actual text (she's his light/truth/hope of salvation, etc) so it goes double going forward. This is true for Rayla too — Callum is her guiding light and her star, he's one of the people who's taught her the most about how to love and the person she wants to be.
With all that in mind, yeah, I do think that Rayla will choose to not sacrifice Callum for the right reasons. Part of this is scaffolded under witnessing Callum not sacrificing her No Matter What prior to her won choice, and realizing "what [she] most deeply desires" isn't just Callum's survival even, but specifically the life they can have together, which she needs to stick around for and thereby not sacrifice herself. Runaan is also explicitly remorseful over the actions he took towards her where he choose duty over love, so Rayla realizing she should choose love over duty ties into them growing together as well in a positive way. We also see her realize some of this I think in choosing to let Lain and Tiadrin stay together rather than separate them specifically because of the Moonphoenix bracelet Callum gave her as well.
"I risked losing the best thing I ever had" because of her own duty turned revenge vs "I refuse to lose either of us like this" and finally fully accepting an assassin was never who she was and never who she Should be, in sacrificing others' lives or her own included. Them both Choosing each other above everything else was exactly what I was hoping for as soon as the "I need you to kill me" plot line started / wrote in my first CHET fic pre-S4 years ago:
She has two options as she pulls away. She can make a grab for her swords and go out, swords blazing. Kill Viren or Aaravos if she can as the sky splits open, purple and thrumming with magic; die with a sword in her hand in all likelihood. The release spell has already started. Or she can help Callum up, and they can live to fight another day—together. Rayla grips the back of his jacket. Presses her forehead to his neck for a second, tears building her eyes. “I’m sorry,” she says. His arm tightens around her, like he’s braced for her to go. “Rayla—” “I’m so sorry,” she repeats, sobbing. This is all her fault, but she can’t do that to him. “We have to get out of here.” [...]
Callum is staring at her when she pulls back and she swallows hard. She doesn’t know what to say. It’s both a blessing and a curse when he speaks first. “You chose me,” he says, not quite softly; she can tell there’s a lump in his throat. An edge of anger that not doing so was even an option. “Yeah, well. It was about time,” she says quietly. “I—”
So uh, here's hoping!
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