#unrelated but do you know the journey i had to take just to get a png of these fuckers?

[sleepy-seal]

i could honestly tear into one of these rn

[kquil]

SIRIUS BLACK | HIS FUTURE WIFE

request : Hi, this is my first time requesting so I don't really know how 😅, but can you write something with Sirius being in love with reader and basically just like jily type of love where he always follows her and calls his future wife — @moonlightwonderland

length : 1.1k

“There’s my girl,” Sirius grins, walking up to you with his arms open as if he was expecting a hug. 

“I’m not your girl, Sirius,” you huff, clutching your books closer to your chest and side stepping, avoiding his arms entirely. It’s been a year since Sirius Black has decided to pursue only you and abandoned his playboy persona. Now he was a committed man. His entire focus has zeroed in on you and you hate it. You hardly used to draw any attention but now, most of the female population at Hogwarts was glaring you down. It’s not your fault Sirius Black decided to turn over a new leaf and made you his primary objective; these girls need to stop making it seem like you forced Sirius to take amortentia. 

But, from the circumstances, you might as well have given him the love potion. He follows you around and does whatever he can to get your attention, even if he makes a fool of himself. He goes out of his way to buy and give you your favourite treats from Honeydukes and helpfully does your bidding wherever, whenever. It would have been a nice gesture when he brought down books from higher shelves for you that one time…if only he didn’t immediately demand a kiss as ‘thanks’ right after. He deserved being hit upside the head for that.   

You just want to be left alone so you wouldn’t have to worry about constantly being stared at by envious girls or gossiping teens who had nothing better to do with their time. 

“My future wife then,” Sirius’s boyish grin grows wider the instant you roll your eyes at him and stomp away, figuring a different route for your journey to class would help you avoid the rebellious teen. But Sirius is unrelenting, following after you with a skip in his step. 

“Stop following me, Sirius,” you groaned and quickened your pace but it was no use. His persistence is challenging and you eventually succumb to his irritable company. 

“But I don’t want to, wifey,” he protests. 

“Don’t call me that, and it doesn’t matter; I want you to leave me alone,‘ you counter. 

“No,”

“Yes,”

“No!”

“Yes!”

Your bickering is commonplace in the hallways and within classes now, although it’s more a legitimate argument for you and Sirius is just playing along. It truly was a mystery to everyone why the Sirius Black, notorious fuckboy and ladies man was suddenly abandoning all that for one girl. Only he knew the real reason. And it was frustrating, especially to you. He can’t just change everything about his mannerisms and force all that attention on you, his good looks, fun personality and enchanting eyes could only absolve him so much. You’d rather be dead before you ever confess that to him, though, it’ll only worsen your situation. 

You did have one saving grace, however. When classes were over, you could find peace and quiet down by the black lake, teetering on the borders of the forbidden forest. This was where you had met your year-long dearest friend, Snuffles. Injured and quivering from the cold, you nursed him back to health a year ago, abandoning your classes for the day so that you could make sure he got better. You knew that dogs weren’t allowed at Hogwarts so you didn’t want to risk anything by taking him to madam Pomfrey. Thankfully, his injuries weren’t too bad at the time and he just needed some company to care for him lovingly. 

“Hello handsome,” you smile upon seeing the familiar black dog through the trees of the forest. As soon as he makes eye contact with you, he bounds over with enthusiastic barks and happy tail wags, “I’m happy to see you too boy!” kneeling down, you hug him around his neck and press kisses into his soft fur, “How are we today, hm?” as if he could understand you, Snuffles barks and sits before laying down to rest his head in your lap. 

Cooing at the large beast, you begin your usual pets as you delve into how your day was going, making small jokes and giving the occasional complaint over workload and stress build up. Snuffles gives a gentle whine as he paws at your thigh as if distressed over your worries and you smile warmly. He seems so human, someone that really cares about you and your wellbeing, it was nice to have. 

“Thank you for worrying about me Snuffles,” you muse softly, “but I’m really okay…so long as Sirius Black stays the hell away from me,” you huff in annoyance. It’s only natural that the conversation directs itself to the man in question as he’s made himself a prominent part of your days for the last year, “ugh! He’s so infuriating,” you frown down at the black dog still resting in your lap, “he won’t leave me alone no matter how much I tell him to. He’s been doing it for a year now and I don’t know what’s gotten into him. Today, he actually called me his future wife! What’s that about?!” you groan and push your head back. 

The sky is a pretty blue and you stare at it for a while before you continue, looking down when you feel a significant shift in Snuffles’s postion. The large black dog sits up and leans over to prop his head up on your shoulder and press his muzzle into your neck. He finds a sensitive spot and elicits a dulcet giggle from you, “if only he was as sweet and gentle as you, Snuffles,” you sigh, a small heat climbing up your neck and settling into your cheeks, “maybe then he could finally get me, just like he wants,” Snuffles pulls away and huffs, his version of a subtle sneeze. 

“Excuse you,” you tease, reaching up to scratch at the fur on his neck before you cup his face and bring his nose close so you could boop it with your own. 

“It’s a real shame, though,” you sigh, wrapping your arms around Snuffles’s neck once more and tucking your face into his fur, “his looks are exactly my type…”  Snuffles stiffens under your embrace but you don’t notice, “and he has some good personality traits too…if only he wasn’t so irritating,” there was a stutter in Snuffles’s movement when you lean back and pet his head softly, “you know, he started acting strange like this after I met you, Snuffles…I-” it was just a passing thought but there was a sudden realisation that slowly consumes your features, reflecting primarily in your eyes. It doesn’t help that the large dog before you slowly morphs into the man you were just complaining about. 

“Clever girl,” Sirius grins as he takes your chin in his fingers and pulls you in close, his breath ticking your lips as he continues to whisper, “I expect nothing less from my future wife,”

When he kisses you, sweet but amorously, you kiss back.

a/n : my first request! lets go! i hope i did it justice darling, and i hope everybody enjoyed the read!

navi. | more oneshots

taglist : @melinajenkins @astonishment @until-i-found-you @goodoldfashionedluvergirl @tiensmamains @celestcies @lovelydoveval @inlovewithremusjohnlupin @calums-betch @futurecorps3 @hihihi1112 @simpingforthe80s @yrluvjane @rosaleenablack

[meazalykov]

hair insecurity

esmee brugts x curly headed!reader

summary: taking care of your natural hair texture will drive you over the edge at some point.

warnings: hair insecurity, internalized texturism

it’s late afternoon, you’re in the bathroom, staring at your reflection, tugging at the ends of your hair in frustration.

today, you decided to leave your hair curly, something you rarely do. you put your dyson airwrap to use every-single-day, where you'd straighten your curls until your hair was striaghten.

but now, as you struggle to braid it into something presentable, you’re regretting that decision.

your fingers aren’t cooperating, and neither is your hair. every time you try to part it, the comb gets stuck in the tangles, pulling at your scalp and testing your patience.

you’ve always envied how your girlfriend, esmee, makes it look so easy, her fingers gliding through her curls as if it’s second nature. but for you, it’s always been a struggle.

the frustration builds until it’s too much to contain, and when the pink comb snaps in your hand, you feel like breaking along with it.

you sink to the bathroom floor, the weight of your feelings finally crushing down on you.

it’s not just about your hair—it’s never just about the hair. it’s about the years of feeling like you don’t measure up, even as you project confidence on the field at barcelona, in your relationships, in life.

but here, alone in the bathroom with your broken comb and unruly curls, it’s hard to hold on to that confidence. the tears start slowly at first, and then they come in a rush, hot and unrelenting, as you bury your face in your hands.

your curls sit over your face and down your back as you drop the comb onto the bathroom floor.

esmee, who was in the living room watching something on netflix, hears the quiet sobs coming from the bathroom. the sound cuts through the lighthearted mood, and immediately, she’s on her feet, worry etched across her features.

she pushes open the door gently and finds you on the floor, shoulders shaking as you try to hold in the sobs.

“babe?” she says softly, kneeling down beside you. her voice is full of concern, but there’s also a tenderness that makes your heart ache even more.

she reaches out, gently brushing a tear from your cheek. “what’s wrong? what happened?”

you shake your head, not trusting your voice just yet. how can you explain that something as simple as your hair has broken you down like this?

but esmee doesn’t push. she waits, patient and understanding, her hand never leaving yours.

finally, you manage to choke out, “i just… i hate this.” you gesture vaguely to your hair, feeling ashamed of the tears, the frustration, the vulnerability.

“i wish it were easier, esmee. i wish i didn’t have to deal with this all the time. i just… i hate that it’s so hard for me.”

esmee’s eyes soften, and she pulls you into her arms, cradling your head against her chest.

“oh, love,” she murmurs, her voice soothing and warm. “it’s okay to feel that way. it’s okay to be frustrated.”

“but i feel so stupid and ugly,” you admit, your voice muffled against her shirt.

“i mean, you have curly hair too, and you love it. shit, I love it! you make it look so easy. you look so beautiful with your hair and your braids. but i can’t even do a simple braid without messing it up. and i know it’s silly, but sometimes i just wish i had straight hair so i wouldn’t have to deal with this. you know how I straighten my hair all of the time? I just wish that it's all I could deal with."

you’re scared to look at her, scared that your words will hurt her, that she’ll think you’re rejecting a part of her by rejecting a part of yourself.

but esmee just tightens her hold on you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“hey, look at me,” she says gently.

when you finally do, her eyes are full of understanding, not judgment.

“your feelings are valid, okay? i’m not offended. you don’t have to love your curls just because i love mine. the hair journey for all of us is different, and it’s okay to struggle with it. it doesn’t make you any less beautiful.”

her words are like a balm, soothing the raw edges of your emotions.

“but i feel like i should be better at this by now,” you confess. “i’ve tried so many times, I've had curly hair for all 20 years of my life.. and it’s just… it’s exhausting.”

“it is exhausting,” esmee agrees, her thumb brushing against your cheek.

“and you don’t have to do it alone. if it helps, we can go to my braider together. she’s amazing, and she can do the same dutch braids you’ve been wanting. and in the meantime, i can help you with your hair whenever you need it. we’re a team, right?”

“yeah, we’re a team.” you nod, the tension in your chest slowly easing.

“good. now, let me help you with this, okay? we’ll figure it out together.” esmee smiles, her fingers gently combing through your curls.

she gets up to grab some more of her hair products from the shelf, and you watch her, feeling a mix of relief and gratitude.

as she returns to sit behind you, you can’t help but think about how lucky you are to have her, someone who understands your struggles without judgment, who loves you in all your messiness.

as esmee carefully detangles your hair, her touch gentle and reassuring, you start to feel a little more at peace.

maybe you don’t love your curls yet, but with esmee by your side, you think you might get there someday. and for now, that’s enough.

authors note: I have curly hair and relate to reader in this fic, I straighten my hair almost all of the time and wish that I knew how to take care of my curly hair easier. I hope you enjoyed <3

my master list is here if you want to read more fics <3

[cybrsan]

Miracle Of The Season — J.JK

STORY SUMMARY: Cast out of Heaven after a painful betrayal, you find yourself having to navigate the intricacies of human life without any guidance from the Creator or the family you have always known. Things only get worse as the holiday season reaches its peak, with reminders of the life you left behind everywhere you look. When a familiar face pops up, you aren’t sure whether to consider it a blessing or a curse.

PAIRING: Angel Jungkook x Fallen Angel F!Reader

RATING/GENRE: M ; angst, fluff, smut ; second chance romance, angel AU, soulmate AU

WORD COUNT: 17.2k

WARNINGS: Heavy themes of religious trauma, an initially negative view of Christianity transforming into a more neutral/respectful view of individual faiths, initial dismissal of other religions, difficult self-growth journey, homelessness, very brief mentions of murder and rape

OTHER/NSFW WARNINGS: Sharing one-bed trope (kinda), mistletoe trope (teehee), first time, fingering, cunnilingus, hand job, unprotected sex

A/N: This is a lot. The story definitely got away from me, but I think that's because there was so much I wanted to say. I definitely could have made this longer, and if I had time/wasn't such a slow writer, I probably would have. It's a heavy topic, but it's one that is near and dear to my heart and one that I think a lot of people can relate to. If you do, I hope this story feels a bit healing.

A/N 2: This is based on the vibes of his song "Standing Next To You" and the m/v for it.

LINKS: Part of the Jingle All The Way! collab with my talented, wonderful friends. Cross-posted on AO3 and (eventually) Wattpad. Banner made by the lovely @kithtaehyung.

"—let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!"

You take a deep, calming breath as you pass the carolers. Their cheerful voices grate on your nerves, but you keep your head down and continue walking. Lashing out at them won't do any good, even if it might give you a moment of satisfaction. It's not like they're the source of your irritation anyway; the crowded streets are abuzz with the unrelenting chaos of the Christmas season, and you have been on edge all morning. 

Turning a corner, you enter a street closer to the shelter you have been calling home for the past year and a half. Immediately, some of your tension dissipates, and you feel like you can breathe a bit easier. There are fewer lights here and less noise, but a few decorations still attract your attention, like a moth to a flame. A nativity scene is proudly displayed in someone's window, and you stop dead in your tracks.

"Freedom of religion, my ass," you mutter bitterly as you tear your gaze away. Why does everyone and their mother seem to celebrate this stupid holiday? 

You know that for many, Christmas isn’t necessarily a holy season. Some humans just use the holiday as an excuse to wear obnoxious sweaters, play the same song on repeat, and spoil one another with gifts. Yet reminders of the celestial realm, of the life you have been cast out from, are everywhere. The nativity, for one. Then there are the carolers singing their songs, and the cartoonish cherub decals that can be found on shop windows, holding banners that proclaim, “Buy one, get one 20% off!” Even the name of the holiday is marked by one of His monikers. Christmas. 

It makes you sick. 

The weather doesn't help, either. Drawing your coat more tightly around yourself, you try to ignore the relentless chill that settles deep in your bones. You’re definitely not dressed warmly enough, ill-prepared considering the sensation of being cold is something you’re still getting used to. It is yet another item you have added to your ever-growing list of "whys.” The question of why God created snow joins the ranks of "why did He make spiders?" and "why is He the most selfish being in existence?" 

You sniff. Perhaps you let your emotions get the best of you at times.  

Emotions. Another thing that’s somewhat new. As an angel, you didn’t really have those. The only thing you ever thought about was following orders and how better you could praise His name. Ugh. It’s hard to believe now that you were ever so single-minded. Though, towards the end, you suppose that wasn’t the case. It all went awry when you started this “list” of yours—when you started questioning things. 

The moment that doubt had first crept into your mind seems like a lifetime ago. Reaching the status of archangel was something you had been working toward for millennia. It was a position that allowed you to work more closely with humanity; you were able to actually guide their paths and alter their destiny. 

At first, it was everything you had ever wanted. The miracles that occurred because of your intervention made you feel like you were doing something worthwhile. But you quickly learned that not all of your missions would be quite as fulfilling. 

You will never forget the first time you were put in charge of administering a holy test. The man had done nothing wrong, yet your higher-ups still insisted that he needed to be "tried by fire." The divine reasons were beyond comprehension, or so you were told. But watching the man suffer as everything he loved was taken from him, seeing the desperation and despair in his eyes… It felt wrong. That feeling stayed with you even as you watched the man's faith remain unbroken. Somehow, that made it worse. 

And then there were those who committed sinful acts and escaped punishment. You saw murderers and rapists living their lives in peace while innocent souls suffered unjustly at their hands. The scales of justice seemed unfairly balanced, and you began to feel crushed by the weight of your guilt.

Thus, the degradation process began. For the longest time, you thought it was a myth, a scary story told to keep angels in line. If you doubt, if you disobey, you begin withering away into nothingness. You'll start to feel things, to lose your sense of purpose. It will be painful and overwhelming and, eventually, you'll cease to exist entirely. You were told that if it were to happen, you must report it to a superior at once. But you were terrified. 

There was only one person you trusted enough to share the way you were feeling—your other half, your celestial counterpart. The one who knew you like no other did. Your Astrom, Jungkook. 

There is an old celestial folk tale that documents the first creation of an Astrom pair. It is said God took one star and split it into two. Neither half could live without the other, nor would they want to. It is difficult to describe the way you felt for him, as angels are devoid of personal desires or emotions as humans experience them. It was simply as if being with him was as natural as breathing. He was the only being other than the Creator that you felt beholden to, that you admired. 

When you first revealed your doubts to him, he simply listened, displaying a level of patience that you found comforting. He answered your questions about morality, about justice as best he could, trying to reassure you that everything happened for a reason. Yet no matter how persuasively he argued, your doubts wouldn't go away. 

Eventually, you began to start contemplating letting yourself fall from grace. The thought was terrifying, but at the same time, there was a certain allure to it. To Fall meant to renounce your celestial responsibilities, and that included no longer having to inflict pain on innocent souls. 

When you confessed this dangerous thought to him, Jungkook gave you a look that you couldn't decipher. All you remember is what he said next: "If you Fall, I shall Fall with you."

His words had been unexpected, and you didn’t know whether to take comfort in them or not. You didn’t want him to share your fate, to bear the burden of your guilt. Could you live with yourself if he Fell too? The answer was an obvious no. But the mere thought of being alone in your struggle was something you couldn’t stomach either. So, you attempted to keep your dissent to a minimum and perform your duties as required. But it wasn’t long before everything fell apart regardless.

Eventually, you were discovered and brought before the celestial court. You were accused of blasphemy since questioning Him was an unforgivable sin and sentenced to Fall, to be cast out from the life you have always known. Yet, the real blow came when you found out who had betrayed you. 

Jungkook.

Your Astrom. 

The one you had trusted implicitly, the other half of your celestial star, had betrayed you in the name of divine loyalty. The pain of the Fall, the feeling of your grace ripped from your body, the scorching burn of your wings as they turned to ash—none of this could compete with the raw, gut-wrenching anguish of his betrayal. 

Even now, months later, remembering makes you feel as if you can't breathe, as if you might die. Every memory of him is like a punch to the gut, and the city, so full of noise and life, does nothing to drown out the agony. Some days, the pain is so vivid and unbearable that it feels as though you are Falling all over again.

A rough shove against your shoulder makes you stumble, and the man who ran into you barely grunts out an apology before continuing past. At least the disruption is a timely one, allowing you to pull yourself out of your thoughts before you spiral. There’s no point focusing on the past when there’s nothing you to do to change it, especially not when you have a myriad of new human concerns to deal with.  

Your job hunt was, once again, unsuccessful. You keep telling yourself that it’s because it’s so close to the holidays and you’ll have a better chance once the new year comes. In reality, you’re sure it’s because you have no experience, no schooling, and no useful knowledge.

At least you’re familiar enough with the city now that zoning out didn’t prevent you from getting to your destination. 

Lost Star Shelter.

The place you’ve been calling home. It’s certainly not perfect, but little on Earth ever is. You feel awful stepping past the crowd of people waiting outside its doors, knowing that they, like you, have nowhere else to go. You've been fortunate enough to secure your spot due to your volunteering efforts and the fact that the manager, Naomi, seems to have taken a liking to you. But not everyone is so lucky. 

You step inside, greeted by the familiar smells of disinfectant and something cooking in the kitchen. The place is buzzing with activity as usual—mothers trying to soothe crying children, elderly folks chatting away in groups, and a few lone souls quietly scrawling job applications. 

"Long day?" Naomi catches your gaze from behind the front desk, her warm smile a stark contrast to the weariness etched in the lines of her face. 

"Isn't it always?" You head over and pick up the clipboard she slides toward you, scanning your list of tasks for the day. As expected, it's long hours of mindless labor, but you don't mind. Not only do you need to earn your place here, but volunteering gives you a sense of purpose similar to your previous heavenly duties. And you have the satisfaction of knowing you're actually helping, not harming.

"First on the list," Naomi points to an item at the top of your clipboard, "is the donations room. We just had a big drop-off and could use some extra hands sorting through it all. But grab some dinner before you start, okay?"

You nod, her straightforward nature getting a slight smile out of you. "Yes, ma'am."

You navigate your way towards the crowded dining area, where a line of people has formed, waiting for their turn to get served. The cooks, all volunteers like yourself, are bustling about, serving portions of the day's meal which looks to be a thick stew accompanied by fresh bread. The food is simple but hearty, more than enough to keep you working through the evening. You make a mental note to slip into the kitchen later and thank them for their hard work.

You find an empty seat at one of the long tables that occupy the space, making yourself at home amongst the people who are engrossing themselves in their meals or with idle chatter. You even join in on a conversation with some older women across the table, who are engaged in a spirited debate about soap operas. Your knowledge of pop culture is sparse at best, but they seem delighted to fill you in on the latest drama, their laughter infectious. 

After your meal, you make your way towards the donations room. The sight of piled-up clothes, toys, blankets, and other items is both overwhelming and heartwarming. Naomi wasn't kidding when she said they'd received a large drop-off. It's a daunting task, but you roll up your sleeves and get to work. You start by sorting through the clutter, meticulously separating everything into various categories—men's clothes, women's clothes, children's clothes, etc., and items that need repairs or cleaning. Hours pass by unnoticed, the rhythm of work almost meditative.

Your thoughts inevitably wander back to Jungkook. A pang of longing shoots through you. He was the one who would always be by your side when you had to perform menial tasks like this in the celestial realm. You wonder what he would think of your new life. Does he look down on you from up high with pity or disdain, or does he simply not think of you at all? You aren't sure if you even want to know the answer. 

As time wears on, the room gradually becomes less cluttered and more organized. You're just about to take a break when Naomi appears at the doorway, her aging features softened by the warm glow of the hallway light behind her. She takes in your progress with an approving nod. 

"You've done well," she says, stepping into the room. 

You can't help but feel a sense of pride at her words. "Thank you, Naomi." 

She strolls around the room, her observant gaze sweeping over the sorted piles, her hands touching a few items here and there.

"It's amazing," she finally says, "how much kindness there is out there, even when it seems like everything is falling apart. No matter how rough things get, we can choose to be generous, choose to help others. That's what makes us human."

Her words resonate with you. You’ve seen the worst and best of humanity firsthand; the same species that wages wars also unite in times of crisis, offering support and showing kindness to total strangers. How much is influenced by higher powers and how much is purely human nature, you wouldn't presume to know. Your very existence has blurred the lines between supernatural influence and mortal will. 

"True," you say, looking up at Naomi from where you're still seated on the floor surrounded by donations. "That’s a nice way to look at things."

Naomi's smile broadens at that, and she gives one last cursory glance around the room before saying, "Well, I'll let you get back to work. Don't stay up too late."

"Goodnight, Naomi," you call after her as she steps out into the hallway, half-waving at you as she goes.

A little over an hour later, you step back to admire your work. Each item has been categorized, ready to be cleaned and redistributed. You move on to your next set of responsibilities: cleaning up the common areas and helping close up for the night. 

The smell of cleaning supplies clings to your skin as you make your way back to your sleeping quarters—a small, shared room filled with single beds. Careful not to disturb anyone, you move towards your assigned bed, its familiar creaks and groans echoing softly under your weight as you settle into it. Exhaustion pulls at your muscles, but you need to wash up and change before you sleep. 

You grab your shower caddy, change of clothes, and quietly make your way to the women’s bathroom. The fluorescent white lights flicker to life as you enter, revealing a row of curtained shower cubicles. You choose one at the end and let the water heat up as you undress. The hot water cascades over your tired body, soothing your muscles and washing away the sweat and grime that has built up throughout the day. 

Shower done and teeth brushed, you pull on fresh clothes and make your way back to your bed. As you settle back down under the covers, you notice something strange on your bedsheet. A crisp scorch mark is visible against the fabric, and when you observe it more closely, you're shocked to realize that the shape almost looks like… fingers? Your heart hammers in your chest. 

"Impossible," you whisper to yourself. 

The sight of these burns is not unfamiliar to you; in fact, you have been the cause of such marks before. It is a common occurrence when celestial beings interact with the mortal world—remnants of their powerful energy left behind. But as you stare at them now, a sense of unease creeps over you. Could it be Jungkook? The thought flickers through your mind, but you quickly brush it aside. Why would he make himself known in this way and then vanish without even seeing you? You can't allow yourself to hope. 

Dismissing the thought, you force yourself to rationalize that it must have been an accident. Perhaps someone burned it while it was being ironed. It’s easy enough to convince yourself; after all, it’s only three and a half slender marks—it could be anything. But the unease remains as you lay down on the bed, your mind filled with questions. You eventually succumb to sleep from sheer exhaustion, your dreams filled with memories of Jungkook.

The next day passes in a blur—the usual routine of job applications, food preparation, and cleaning duties. The burn mark on your bedsheet remains a mystery. You track down the volunteer who did the laundry, and she swears she wouldn't be so careless as to burn someone’s belongings. Despite her assurances, it's the only explanation you are willing to believe. You return to your bed to find that the sheet has been replaced with a fresh one, the burn mark gone as if it never existed.

You spot an older man sitting on a bed in the corner; his mouth moves silently, and the rosary beads dangling from his fingers lead you to believe he’s praying. A small, faux Christmas tree, no larger than a water bottle, stands on a box next to him. The sight stirs something with you, an uncomfortable feeling once again settling in your gut. You don’t understand his faith. How can someone continue to pray to a God that has obviously forsaken him?

You wait until the man finishes and safely tucks the rosary beads into his shirt pocket, right above his heart, before you approach.

“Excuse me?”

He looks up at you with a smile, eyes crinkling around the edges. "What can I help you with, dear?" 

"I noticed you praying," you begin tentatively. Despite your personal qualms with religion, you don’t want to seem as if you are disrespecting him or his beliefs. "I hope you don't mind my asking, but how do you keep your faith? Under these circumstances?"

He doesn't seem bothered at all by your blunt question. Instead, he chuckles softly and pats the bed beside him, inviting you to sit down. You hesitate a moment before complying.

"Faith isn't about having all the answers," he starts, his voice a mere whisper in the quiet room. "It isn't about being rewarded for good deeds or punished for bad ones. It's about hope. It's about believing that things will get better."

“Hope? Still? Despite… despite being here? I mean, aren’t you upset with God?” Your voice is barely above a whisper as well, a mixture of curiosity and frustration seeping into your words.

He remains silent for a while, his gaze wandering towards the small Christmas tree on the box beside him. 

"No, I'm not upset with God," he finally replies. "Man is given free will, and it is man who chooses what to do with it. Crisis, poverty… God didn't create these. They're the consequences of human choices." His words are sincere, spoken with a calmness that only comes from years of contemplation. "God doesn't promise us that life will always be easy or free from hardships. But He does promise that He will be there in those times of trouble. You see, faith isn't about expecting God to fix our problems, but about having the strength to face them."

“I envy your strength,” you admit with a hint of admiration in your voice.

“Strength is born from struggle, dear. You’ll find your way soon enough.” 

“I hope you’re right.”

The conversation lingers in your mind long after the man's words have faded into silence. You sit on your bunk, staring at the ceiling, pondering them. His unshakable faith is both alien and inspiring to you. Even when you were an archangel, before any doubts seeped into your mind, your faith was nothing like his. It was a duty, an obligation, a resolute certainty that was less about personal beliefs and more about the world you were born into. 

His mention of hope sticks out to you the most. You look around the room again, taking note of the different symbols of faith scattered across the room—crosses, menorahs, and even a small prayer mat in one corner. Each person in this room believes in something larger than themselves, something that gives them hope. And you? You're not certain what you believe in anymore. But maybe, just maybe, some of your anger has been misplaced. 

As the daylight fades, you find yourself wandering outside, the crisp evening air bringing a kind of comfort you couldn't find inside. You walk aimlessly, your feet following the now-familiar sidewalks. You end up in a park, and you make a seat for yourself on a deserted bench.

Looking up into the sky, now painted with hues of orange and pink, you let yourself miss Heaven for just a minute. To miss Jungkook. Even the Creator. You can never go back to worshipping Him, nor do you want to, but you can't deny the connection that once was. As much as you wish everything never happened, you are grateful for how much you've grown since. 

Suddenly, you’re disoriented by a bright flash of light and a shrill, piercing sound that makes your entire body jolt. You shut your eyes and cover your ears, but it does nothing to dull the pain. It's as if the noise is coming from inside your mind. You half-crawl, half-fall off the bench, curling in on yourself, unable to think anything, do anything, until it finally comes to a stop. 

The world pauses around you; the birds stop chirping, the wind stops blowing, and people are frozen where they walk. A familiar feeling washes over you, and your breath catches in your throat. You can’t bring yourself to open your eyes. Even in this form, even as a human, his presence calls to your very soul. You hadn’t realized how incomplete you felt, how empty you were, without him by your side. He’s your other half, and he always will be. The realization makes you want to cry. You had hoped after the Fall, after you became human, that would cease to be true. You can’t stand the fact that you’re still irrevocably tied to him, even after all that he’s done. As always, fate is cruel.

“Y/N.”

He speaks your name with a quiet reverence as if he can hardly believe you’re there in front of him. The familiar, honeyed tone of his voice reignites your longing for him with full force, but you still stubbornly keep your eyes closed. You can’t look at him. You aren’t strong enough.

“I cannot believe you are alive.”

What?

His statement shocks you enough that your eyes fly open of their own accord, and for the first time in months, you're met with the sight of Jungkook. You're not sure if you perceive him differently now that you are mortal, but he's even more captivating than you remember. 

His dark hair curls softly atop his head and is tousled ever-so-perfectly. His skin is beautifully tanned, and the way his tall figure is silhouetted against the sun makes it seem like he's glowing. His wings are obsidian, gargantuan in size, seemingly consuming the entire park with their reach. He's magnificent, so beautiful it hurts.

But it is his eyes that have you frozen in your spot—those beautiful, brown doe eyes, filled with so much emotion that it takes your breath away. He's not supposed to be able to feel unless… unless he has begun the degradation process, as you had.   

“Y/N,” he repeats, his voice trembling. "I thought you were dead." 

“I don't understand,” you manage to choke out, trying to sound more composed than you feel. You pull yourself to your feet, grimacing at the pain radiating throughout your body. How much of it is physical and how much is emotional, you can't tell. 

He takes a step closer to you, his hands outstretched as if to ensure that you're real, but you recoil instinctively. He flinches at your reaction but still grabs your arms, grip unrelenting even as you attempt to pull away from him. 

“Protective markings have been burned onto your ribs.” Hurt flashes across his features. “Were you hiding from me?”

“What? No.” You manage to break free and back up a few steps, putting some distance between you. You feel exposed and vulnerable under his gaze, remembering how he always seemed to know what you were thinking even before you did. "I didn't even know I had them."

"I need you to explain everything," he demands. 

“You need me to explain?" You scoff and cross your arms over your chest defensively. "What about you?”

“Me?” He tilts his head slightly, his confusion obvious.

“Yes, you!" You take a step closer, anger simmering just beneath the surface. "After all, you’re how I ended up in this situation, right?” 

“What are you talking about?”

"You betrayed me!" you hiss. “I confided in you, and you told me you understood. That you were with me. And then you turned around and proclaimed me a blasphemer!” 

He doesn’t respond right away, and it’s as if you can see the cogs turning in his head as he pieces things together. “Y/N… I would never.” 

His admittance makes you pause. Angels aren’t supposed to lie, though you know not everyone abides by that law. However, Jungkook has always been one of the most dedicated to the commandments. 

“That’s not what Namsu told me.”

“Namsu? The Throne?” 

“Yes, the Throne. The one who exiled me on the orders of up high.”

His eyebrows furrow. “You… were exiled? You did not wither?”

"Wither?" you scoff. "That's a myth, Jungkook. A cover-up to hide the fact that when angels start to stand up for what they think is right, they get cast out. And it's thanks to you that I'm here now."

"I… no." The intensity behind the word takes you aback. "I just wanted to help you; I thought you were sick. I went to one of the Cherubim for guidance—I would have never turned you in for some kind of punishment." 

His words hang in the air, making your heart pound in your chest. He was trying to help you? The thought sends a flurry of conflicting emotions through you. 

"Help me?" You repeat his words, mocking him in your disbelief. "Your way of helping got me exiled! Cast down and made mortal."

"I did not—" He cuts himself off, his gaze dropping to the ground. "I never meant for any of this to happen."

"Yet it did!" you snap, crossing your arms tightly around yourself as if they could somehow shield you from the pain his presence brings. "And now I'm here, and nothing will ever be the same!"

"I am so sorry." His apology is whispered so softly that you almost don't catch it. But you do, and it hits you like a punch in the gut.

Your head feels as if it's about to implode. He didn't purposefully betray you—in fact, he was trying to save you. But even so, his actions have led to your downfall, and now you're stuck here on earth, far from the light of Heaven, vulnerable and mortal, while he remains immortal and untouchable. Perhaps that's the part that hurts the most. The fact that now you are separated not by betrayal but by the very nature of your beings. 

Your voice cracks as tears fill your eyes. "If all this is true, then why wouldn’t you have looked for me?”

“I looked everywhere at first, but I could not sense you anymore.” If it was possible, you think he would be crying too. “Namsu is the one who told me what happened. He said that you… that your doubt consumed you, and you did not survive.”

The information hits you like a ton of bricks. Your knees almost give out for a second time, but Jungkook reaches out and grabs you by the elbows, steadying you. 

"I… I had no idea." A bitter laugh escapes your lips as you look up at him. "You didn't know anything, and I presumed the worst of you." 

His fingers tighten around your arms in a reassuring squeeze. "We can always start over, Y/N." 

"Start over?" you echo, incredulous. "You make it sound so easy."

"And why would it not be? We were not the ones to blame for our separation. Come back with me."

"I'm human now. The only way I can come back is… is if I'm dead."

His grip loosens, his face paling at your words. "I did not mean to suggest… Of course, I do not want you to die," he hastily corrects himself, glancing down at the ground. His wings flutter uneasily behind him, betraying his discomfort. "There must be another way."

"If there was, would it even be safe? I mean, why would Namsu do this?" you ask, staring at him. You're not sure if you're asking him or simply musing aloud. Even so, the question hangs heavily in the silence between you.

Finally, after what seems like an eternity, Jungkook speaks again. His voice is barely above a whisper when he says, "I wish I had the answers you seek, but I don't. All I know is that I will do everything in my power to rectify this situation." He turns away from you, scanning the horizon as if searching for something. "I need to return and confront Namsu. He must account for his actions."

"No, it's too dangerous. What if he forces you to Fall, too? You can't risk it, Jungkook." 

He looks back at you, his expression hardening. "I will not let him get away with this, Y/N," he says resolutely. "Deception is not a virtue of a Throne, especially not in such grave matters."

"And you won't let him, but you need to go about this carefully. Going to him directly won't work—he's too powerful."

Jungkook tilts his head, regarding you skeptically. "It almost sounds as if you are asking me to be deceitful." 

"Not deceitful, just… stealthy?" 

He doesn’t respond immediately, his brow furrowed as he mulls over your words. After a moment, he exhales slowly, pulling back from you to pace the grass in thought. "Stealthy," he repeats slowly, his voice distant. "That would require careful planning. Secret meetings. Misdirection."

"Yes," you agree, watching him closely. "All of that."

He stops suddenly, turning to look at you. "Very well. I will do whatever it takes to get to the bottom of this."

Your chest tightens, and you gnaw at your bottom lip. His resolve both comforts and worries you. You don't want him to risk himself for you, but part of you is happy that he is willing.

"However,” Jungkook breaks your train of thought. "It sounds like I may need to be a little bit more human to pull this off. After all, none of this comes easily to angels, but mortals lie all the time."

You raise an eyebrow. "And how are you going to achieve that?"

"You will have to teach me, of course." He says this as if doing so will be the easiest thing in the world. “The degradation process has already started for me, as I am sure you are aware. It should be easy.”

"You're serious?" 

Jungkook had always been so straight-laced, the epitome of angelic perfection. The idea of him playing at being human is almost laughable.

"Completely," he responds, his intense gaze never wavering. "I am willing to do whatever it takes to bring Namsu to justice and try to fix this. Fix us. If that requires adopting some mortal habits, then so be it."

"Alright," you finally concede, shaking your head in amusement. "Time for a crash course in 'how to be a human' 101."

He smiles faintly at that, the corners of his mouth tipping upwards just so. It's a small thing, barely noticeable amidst the tension still hanging heavily in the air between you two, but it's enough. Enough to remind you that the way you felt about him in Heaven, despite not being able to feel, was some kind of love. You don't know where that leaves you now or what you're going to do about it, but procrastination is another human skill you have come to love. Maybe you'll teach him that eventually.

"Lesson one," you start, pointing a finger at him in mock sternness. "Humans don't always speak so formally or in such grandiose phrases. ‘I am going to bring Namsu to justice' sounds archaic or like something a two-bit superhero would say."

His lips quirk upward into a more genuine smile this time. "I see," he replies, his voice deliberately casual. "So how would a human say it?"

"Well, for starters, you could use slang," you suggest. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow, an almost comical look of concentration on his face. “Slang,” he repeats, testing the word on his tongue.

“Yes, slang. Humans don’t always pronounce every single word, and they often come up with new, shorter words to replace certain phrases. You could say something like, 'Namsu’s gonna get what he deserves.'”

He nods, repeating your words slowly. “Namsu... is going to get what he deserves.”

You burst out laughing at his attempt. The prim, stoic angel fumbling his way through human speech? It is truly a sight to behold. 

"Laughing at my expense?" He feigns hurt, but there's a playful twinkle in his eyes that gives him away. "I guess that's lesson two then: humans are full of mirth and mockery."

"You're catching on quickly," you reply, still giggling slightly. “And yes, we like to laugh.”

He observes you a moment longer before finally allowing a soft chuckle to escape his lips. It's a deep, rich sound, but it feels tentative like he's not quite sure if he's doing it right.

“Laughing…" he murmurs, puzzling over the concept. “Such a peculiar expression of joy. But I like it." 

"As you should," you reply, a grin still playing across your face. "It's one of the best parts about being human."

Jungkook studies you for a moment, a smile tugging at his lips. "It suits you."

"Hm? What does?"

"Being human."

"I’m not sure whether to take that as a compliment or an insult.” 

"There is a certain spontaneity in humans. A vibrancy that angels lack." Jungkook’s gaze intensifies, his voice lowering to almost a whisper as he steps closer. "It makes you shine more brightly. Like the sun."

He's so close to you now that you can make out the subtle flecks of gold in his eyes. Your heart pounds in your chest as his words wash over you, warming you from the inside out. 

"That—" You clear your throat, trying to steady your shaking voice. "That sounds like a compliment."

"It is," he confirms, his gaze flickering down to your lips for a brief second before rising back to meet your eyes. "But it is also an observation. A fact."

You want to kiss him. The thought shocks you—you've never kissed someone before, let alone wanted to. It must be a human impulse. You can't help but imagine what it might feel like, the warmth of his lips against yours, his skin beneath your fingertips. You want to feel his hand on your cheek, his fingers tangling in your hair. But the danger of your respective positions impedes that thought, and you push it down. He's an angel. You're not. Him being your Astrom, the connection you had before your Fall, none of it matters now.

"Okay," you manage to squeak out, trying to ignore the electricity that seems to be sparking between your too-close bodies. "Human lesson number three: we're big on personal space."

"Oh?" Jungkook raises an eyebrow but doesn't step away. "Is this too close?"

You swallow hard. "A bit."

You swear you see a hint of mischievousness cross his features before he complies, stepping back just enough to leave a sliver of space between you. "Better?" 

"Now you're just teasing me," you retort, though there's a soft smile playing on your lips.

"Is that frowned upon?" 

"No," you admit. "In fact, it's quite human of you. Now, it’s time for a real challenge." He looks at you quizzically. "We have to convince Naomi to let you stay at the shelter." 

"Ah," he nods, understanding dawning on him. "I see. Another part of being human—negotiation."

"Exactly."

"Then lead the way." With a snap of his fingers, time resumes for the two of you and his wings have disappeared, making him appear fully human, and you head back to Lost Star.

"Naomi, please," you beg, giving your boss the best puppy eyes you can muster. "He needs a place to stay." 

Naomi crosses her arms over her chest and drags her gaze over Jungkook in a way that suggests she's scrutinizing every cell of his being, from the top of his head down to the tips of his toes. "There's no extra beds, hun. I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do." 

"Then he can stay with me!"

"You and him, sharing that tiny little twin bed?" She scoffs. "I'd like to see you try."

"We'll make it work!"

"It's still against the rules. One body to one bed." 

"I know it's not ideal, but just for a few days until we figure out something else," you urge her. "I wouldn't be asking you this if it wasn't important." 

Jungkook steps forward, interjecting smoothly, "I will respect the rules, and if you feel my presence is harmful or disruptive in any way, I will leave immediately." 

Naomi looks between you and Jungkook, and then she sighs, throwing her hands up in defeat. 

"Fine, but only for a little while. And you can't sleep in the main room. Take my office—the couch is a pull-out."

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!" You pull her into a hug that she returns with a loving exasperation. 

"If there's even a whiff of trouble, both of you are gone, understand?" 

"Yes, ma'am! I wouldn't expect anything less." 

You grab Jungkook’s hand, dragging him along behind you as you lead him through the shelter. You pass through some of the busier living areas, and it's as if everyone can’t help but stare at him. You can only assume that, despite his wings being hidden, he still emits some sort of otherworldly aura that draws people in. Plus, by human standards, you suppose he's quite attractive. 

Jungkook seems unbothered by the attention, too focused on his surroundings and curiously taking in every detail.

"All these people live here?" he asks, incredulous. "This place is quite small." 

"Shh! Lesson four: lower your voice when you're talking about other people. The last thing we need is for someone to overhear and think you're judging them." 

"Apologies," Jungkook replies, his voice dropping to a whisper. "But my previous comment was not meant to be judgmental. I’m just… surprised. I thought humans usually lived in family units, but everyone here doesn't seem to be related." 

I’m. Doesn’t. He’s already using contractions—you must either be a good teacher or he’s a quick learner.

"You're right," you agree, and as you glance around, your heart aches a little. "Not everyone is fortunate enough to have that. This place is for those who have lost their families or homes." 

"Lost their homes? Like in a fire?" 

"Sometimes. Or maybe they didn't have enough money to pay their taxes." 

"I don't understand. Are there not enough homes for everyone? Why do you need to pay for such a basic need?"

You pause, the innocence of his question hitting you surprisingly hard. Of course he wouldn't understand the complexities of human society, of money and social class, of poverty and wealth disparity. You didn't either; at least, not until you Fell and were forced to figure it out. 

"That is a complicated issue," you admit, running a hand through your hair. "And not all humans agree on how to solve it. Some people think everyone should have a home, regardless of whether or not they can pay for it. Others think that if you can't afford it, you don't deserve one."

He looks so confused that you would be tempted to laugh if the tone of the conversation wasn't so serious. "That doesn't seem fair. In heaven, everyone has a place."

"Yes, well, Earth isn't heaven." There's a bitterness to your words that you hadn't intended. "And why our Creator chooses to leave things like this is a mystery to me. I mean, why not use some of His power to help?"

"The ways of the Almighty are impossible for us to understand," Jungkook quietly replies. "And it's not for us to question."

You snort in response, crossing your arms over your chest. "Well, aren't you a dutiful little angel?" 

Jungkook frowns, clearly not understanding your sarcasm. You sigh and shake your head.

"I'm sorry, Jungkook. It's just hard to wrap my head around sometimes. It's why my so-called degradation process started in the first place. Look at them—" You gesture to the people huddled together around the small television in the corner of the room, others sharing a meal or helping to care for the younger children. "They're good people. Why do they deserve to suffer?" 

Silence lingers between you for a moment. When he responds, he doesn’t answer your question. “Their heavenly rewards shall be plentiful as long as they keep to their faith.” 

“Does that make all of this okay?" You scoff. "Why are they being tested like this? In fact, why do they even need to believe at all to be given a home in the celestial realm? If a person is good-hearted, why isn’t that enough?”

Jungkook looks away from you. "I don't like these questions."

“You don’t like them? Or you don’t like how uncomfortable they make you feel?” 

Before he can even bother replying, you let go of his hand and open the door to Naomi's office, hurrying inside, eager to get some space. It's small and cramped, filled with stacks of paper, an old wooden desk strewn with an old computer and various office supplies, and a well-worn couch wedged against the wall.

"It's not much," you say. "But it's home for now, I guess."

"Home," Jungkook repeats softly, eyes scanning the room. He zeroes in the billboard behind Naomi's desk, filled with photos of smiling people, letters from those that she has helped. A smile tugs at his lips. "It's nice."

"You say that now. Just wait until you're trying to sleep and a couch spring is digging into your back." 

"I don't actually need to sleep," he reminds you. 

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms over your chest. "Right, I forgot. At least we won't be fighting for the blanket."

"I can pretend to," Jungkook offers, a spark of amusement in his eyes. "The idea of laying next to you is not unwelcome." 

You blush, taken aback. "W-what… you…" You take a deep breath. "No, that won't be necessary. And lesson five: don't flirt with people unless you mean it." 

"What is 'flirt’?”

"Flirting," you explain, trying to keep your blush under control, "is when people say or do things that suggest they're attracted to each other."

"I see." He pauses for just a moment before asking, "And how do I know if I'm attracted to someone?"

You sigh exasperatedly. Who knew teaching an angel to be human could be so tiring? 

"It's… well, it's kind of hard to explain. Especially because, as an angel, you don't really feel, at least not until the degradation process is nearing its end. But basically, it's like you have an inexplicable urge to be around this person a lot. You think about them often, their happiness makes you happy, and you want to be closer to them, maybe even touch them or hold them. Some people also might feel their heart beat faster, or a fluttering in their stomach." 

As you speak, Jungkook’s eyes never leave yours. They gleam with curiosity and understanding, drinking in every word you say. He seems to be processing the concept, and then he suddenly smiles. "So, like how I feel about you." 

Caught off-guard, you blink at him, speechless for a moment. And then the panic seeps in. 

"No, Jungkook, that's not correct," you insist, your words tumbling out in haste and denial. "You can't… we can't… you're an angel. I'm—" Fallen, you want to say. Human, you need to say. But you don't. 

"Why not?" he asks simply, his gaze steady. 

"Because!" You scramble for an explanation, desperate to avoid the truth of your own feelings stirring within you. "Because angels aren't supposed to feel that way."

"But I am no longer a pure angel," Jungkook counters. "The degradation process has begun. We discussed this already."

"But that doesn't matter! The whole reason we are doing this is so you can learn the skills you need to figure out a way to stop Namsu from forcing anyone else to Fall. Once you do, you'll be able to stay in Heaven because withering isn't real." Before he can say anything else, you open the door. "I'm gonna grab my stuff from my bed. I'll… I'll be back in a second." 

You slam the door behind you, leaving Jungkook alone in the room. It's a struggle to keep your composure as you head towards your bed. All you can think of is his words, the nonchalance with which he said them. You can feel your traitorous heart yearning for him, but you can't let it sway you. Whether it was an accident or not, his betrayal led to your Fall. Led to you being human. And he's an angel. No matter what you feel or what he thinks he feels, nothing can happen between you now. 

As you gather your meager belongings, the man you spoke with earlier approaches you with a sympathetic expression. "You alright, dear? You didn't get evicted, did you? I'll give Naomi a piece of mind if that's the case." 

"No, no," you quickly reassure him with a forced smile. "My… my friend needs a place to stay for awhile, and there's a one body to one bed policy. Naomi was kind enough to let us use the couch in her office for a few days until we figure something else out."

"Your friend, hm?" His eyes twinkle mischievously. "That fellow you walked in with? Can't say I blame you. He's quite a looker."

"It's not like that," you blush, hurriedly stuffing the rest of your belongings into your bag. "Anyway, don't worry. You'll still see me around." 

The man grins and gives you a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I'm glad to hear it. This place would be much drearier without you."

You bid him goodbye with a wave and make your way back to Naomi's office, feeling like you're walking towards the edge of a cliff. As you open the door, you find Jungkook staring out the window. The streetlight spills in through the gap in the curtains, bathing him in a soft glow. He turns as you enter. 

"Gathered your belongings?" he asks, his voice calm as if the previous conversation never happened. For a moment, you feel robbed—does he not understand the gravity of what he said? But you suppose it's better this way. Easier, at least. 

"Yes," you respond, a bit more brusquely than intended, setting your bag down on the floor. He's still staring at you, and you flush under his gaze. "I'm just going to set up the couch. And stop staring at me so intently. Humans get nervous about stuff like that."

"Another lesson," he remarks. "Understood." Jungkook watches you for a moment longer, then turns back to the window without a word. 

You get to work, unfolding the couch and covering it with your bedding. The silence between you is thick; you can feel the tension radiating off of Jungkook despite his apparent calm. Your heart pounds in your ears as you busy yourself with smoothing out some wrinkles in the sheets, a futile distraction. 

With a deep breath, you break the silence. "Alright, I'm done." 

Jungkook turns to look, and his eyes scan the makeshift bed you've prepared. "You've made it look inviting." 

"Should be okay for a few nights," you reply curtly, avoiding his gaze. "I'm, uh, gonna go ready for bed. I know you don't sleep, but feel free to sit at her desk or something. Make yourself comfortable." 

You exit the room and head down the hallway to the bathroom, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts. You can’t shake off his confession and your own rush to deny him. The truth of your feelings, or rather the depth of them, is something you aren't ready to face.

After getting ready for bed, you hesitantly return to Naomi's office. The door creaks upon opening, and Jungkook turns from where he's seated at Naomi's desk, looking up at you with his intense gaze.

"Goodnight," you say softly, trying not to let your voice betray how uneasy you feel.

Jungkook nods. "Goodnight," he replies, and his voice is gentle, concerned. You feel a pang of guilt at the distance you've created between the two of you but say nothing more, falling into a fitful sleep.

Sometime during the night, Jungkook figured out how to work Naomi's dinosaur of a computer and discovered the wonderful thing that is the internet. When you wake, he flocks to your side like an excited child, eager to share everything he has learned about humans, their emotions, and their behavior.

"Slow down, Jungkook," you chuckle, holding up a hand to halt his barrage of words. "I can't absorb all of that at once."

"Oh," he says, blinking in surprise. "I forget that human minds process information more slowly. Should I take this as another lesson?"

You shrug, brushing a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Sure, go for it."

Despite the tension last night and everything unsaid between the two of you, you find yourself falling into an easy rhythm with him. He's eager to learn and keen on understanding humanity—your humanity. Throughout the day, he continues his studies, glued to the computer screen as you complete your daily volunteering. He takes breaks every once in a while to come find you and ask questions.

"I've come across some terms that are perplexing," he says, leaning on the front desk as you catalog some information. "'Memes' and 'emojis' appear prominently in human interactions online, but I don’t really know what they are or how they’re used.”

You answer question after question until you realize you aren’t getting work done, so you have to come up with a plan B. Leading him back to Naomi’s office, you pull up Netflix on the computer. Jungkook watches the screen in fascination as you explain streaming and scroll through all the shows. 

"Let's try Friends," you say, clicking on the thumbnail. 

You leave him to watch as you finish up your tasks for the day, checking occasionally to see that he’s still engrossed in the show. Instead of constantly badgering you with questions, he writes them on a notepad you provided and waits until the end of the day to go over them with you. You answer each one as best you can, completely endeared by him. 

It's during one of the show's more depressing moments that he asks you about lying and betrayal, echoing the heavy undertones from the other day. His question takes you by surprise, his gaze focused intensely on your face as he waits for an answer.

"Lying is a tough one," you say, trying to keep your voice steady. "Sometimes it's out of fear or selfishness. Sometimes people lie because they're trying to protect themselves."

"And betrayal?" Jungkook asks, his voice unnaturally calm.

You sigh, looking down at your hands. "Betrayal… it's when someone breaks your trust. It hurts, Jungkook. It hurts a lot."

He watches you for several long moments before finally speaking again. "I see," he says softly. "And that's what you thought I did to you?"

You swallow hard, feeling the knot in your chest tighten. "Jungkook," you start, but falter, not knowing how to put your feelings into words. 

"I did not mean to betray you," Jungkook continues. "I realize that my actions may have led you to believe that I deceived you, but it was not my intention. I'm sorry."

"I know." You believe him completely, but the wound is still so fresh that you can’t bring yourself to fully trust him again. Not yet. "I know you didn't mean to, but an apology doesn't fix everything. Consider it another lesson—trust, once broken, isn't so easily mended." 

Jungkook plays with the skin around his nails, an anxious habit he seems to be developing the more human-like he becomes. After a moment, he says, "I understand. I will try harder."

"Try harder doing what?" 

"To understand you better. To understand all humans more, their emotions and their beliefs. Maybe understanding what trust really is will teach me how to earn it back and make up for my mistakes." He's so earnest, so genuine, it almost brings tears to your eyes. "I think I want this as much as I want Namsu to answer for his crimes, if not more. And maybe that makes little sense, but maybe… maybe that's quite human of me." 

"And maybe that's progress," you say softly, looking at Jungkook with newfound hope. 

Your new normal is spending your days with your time split between performing your volunteering duties and teaching Jungkook all about human life. 

Christmas is only a week away now, and everyone around you seems to be buzzing with excitement. At this point, even the inside of the shelter has been decorated. The hallways are lined with lights and garlands, and the common areas even have a few trees set up with donated presents underneath. And, as much as you have dreaded the holiday, you can't deny that watching Jungkook experience it for the first time makes you hate it a little less.

Despite the initial stiffness that comes with being an angel unfamiliar with human life, he has quickly adapted to life at the shelter. He's kind and patient, and he’s always eager to help out where he can. The children, in particular, have taken a liking to him. He's become their favorite storyteller and always has the kids hanging onto his every word. 

One afternoon, you find him sitting with them, singing a song in an ancient celestial language. Everyone will assume it’s some gibberish language he’s made up for one of his stories, but it reminds you of home. His voice is beautiful, melodic and soothing, with a honeyed quality to it that would make anyone stop and listen. 

You stand in the doorway and watch, a smile tugging at your lips. He catches your eye and winks, the action so human and unexpected that it startles a laugh out of you. The children turn to see what's so funny, but you just shake your head, telling them to continue listening.

He comes to you when he finishes, smiling brightly. "Did you enjoy the song as well?" 

"I did," you reply truthfully, your heart fluttering at his attention. The feelings you have been trying to resist are becoming increasingly persistent the more time you spend with him. 

"That's good to hear.”

Suddenly, the kids clamor over to you both, giggling and pointing at something above you. You look up, and all the color drains from your face. Mistletoe. Who the hell put it here?

Jungkook looks between you and the mistletoe, obviously confused. “Why are you angry with that plant? It’s quite beautiful.”

“It’s a tradition, of sorts.” You say the word with disdain. “When a couple—not that we are one—walks under the mistletoe, they’re supposed to kiss.”

“Kiss?”

“We don’t have to, it’s stupid—” 

“No, let’s do it. It's a part of the human experience, right? Let's consider it another lesson."

Heat rushes to your face, and you stutter incoherently, looking around the room for a way to escape. But the children are watching expectantly, their eyes wide and eager. You swallow hard, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Alright… close your eyes," you tell him.

He listens obediently, his eyes fluttering closed. You had never noticed just how long and pretty his eyelashes were until now. Bracing yourself, you take a deep breath and lean in, placing a soft kiss on his cheek. When you pull back, you're greeted with a perplexed expression as he opens his eyes.

"That was nice," he says after a brief pause. "But that’s really what a kiss is? In the show, they did it a bit more like—"

He leans in to demonstrate what he means, his lips brushing against yours. It's soft and a bit awkward at first, but he quickly gets the hang of it, pulling you closer. Against your better judgment, you let him, allowing yourself to get lost in the moment. His lips are softer than you would have expected. His fingers lightly squeeze your waist, sending a jolt of electricity through your body, and it's not until you hear some of the children giggling that you are reminded you have an audience.

You quickly pull away, breathless and flushed with embarrassment. Jungkook, however, is grinning from ear to ear. "That," he says. "That is how they did it."  

"Again! Again!" one of the kids shouts, pulling at your arm. 

Jungkook chuckles at his enthusiasm. "I think we should get back to our story," he says, ruffling the boy’s hair lovingly. Then, turning back to you, he murmurs, "Thank you. For the lesson." 

You can barely speak coherently, but you manage to squeak out a small “you’re welcome” before rushing out of the room. How on Earth are you supposed to get your tasks done now? It's impossible to focus, your mind running in circles over his touch, the feel of his lips against yours.

When you return to Naomi’s office later that night, you’re relieved to see that Jungkook isn't there yet. You take a moment to sit on the edge of the bed and process your thoughts, your fingers tracing absentmindedly over your lips. A shiver passes through your body, a heat blooming in the pit of your stomach. You drop your hand, clenching it into a fist to stop the trembling.

"Nervous?" a voice asks, startling you out of your thoughts. Jungkook is standing in the doorway, watching you with an unreadable expression.

"I… no," you say. 

"Don't lie," he chides gently, sitting next to you on the bed. “I can tell when you do that now, you know.” He keeps to a respectful distance, but he turns his gaze to you. “I think I'm starting to really understand this human thing. Emotions and all that.”

"Is that so?" 

"Yes. They can be painful sometimes but also quite beautiful." 

You watch as he turns his gaze back towards the room, and silence stretches between you again. However, it’s different now from how it used to be; it's not awkward or unsettling, but comfortable. His vulnerability makes you want to be honest, to admit to the way you feel.  

Just as you’re about to say something, he continues, "But now it's time for me to learn about something else. I need to start strategizing for the coming confrontation."

"Right, Namsu," you say. You almost forgot about Jungkook’s original intentions. You clap your hands and get up, heading to the computer. "Alright. Let's research."

With Jungkook sufficiently prepared, the time soon comes for him to return to the celestial realm. However, he insists on leaving at night, so he can spend the day with you. He referred to it as "a date," and you practically tripped over your own feet, much to his enjoyment. He has certainly developed a penchant for teasing you.

You decide to take him into the heart of the city, so he can observe people in their natural element. There seem to be even more decorations than you remember, and people are bustling about to finish their last-minute shopping. However, you find yourself handling the chaos a lot better with Jungkook by your side. 

He hasn't let go of your hand since you stepped out of the shelter, his thumb lightly rubbing circles over your knuckles. Every once in a while, he squeezes it lightly, a silent assurance that he’s there. Whether he notices your nerves and is doing it to comfort you or is doing it because he wants to, you're grateful for it.

His doe eyes dart this way and that, eagerly drinking in the scenery. You try to explain what everything is—the office buildings, luxury apartments, and tiny shops buried in alleyways—but he's more interested in the people. It isn't until you stop in front of a Hindu temple that his attention is finally captured by a building. He cocks his head to the side, eyes wide in wonder as he takes in the sight of it. The temple is a beautiful structure, with elaborate carvings and statues lining its walls. 

"What is this place?" he asks, his voice full of awe.

"It's a place of worship for those that practice Hinduism," you explain.

His eyes sparkle with interest as he takes a step closer to the building. "Can we go inside?"

You glance at him, surprised by his request. But something in his earnest gaze breaks down your hesitation. "Sure," you say softly, leading him inside.

The inside of the temple is even more impressive than the outside. There are vibrant murals depicting different gods and an intoxicating scent of incense that fills the air. You gesture to the bell at the entrance. “Would you like to ring it?”

“What’s it for?” he asks, picking it up gently. 

“It’s supposed to be a way to announce your arrival to the deities.” 

Jungkook shakes it, the twinkling of the bell echoing in the large room. “Pretty,” he remarks as he places it back where it belongs.

He then follows your lead as you move towards the main shrine, your heart pounding in your chest as you realize what you're about to do. An angel of the Christian God at the altar of a different one? You're almost afraid you'll be struck down where you stand. 

He takes in the offerings with a small smile. "It's all quite beautiful," he remarks. "It's a shame that their gods aren't real." 

You know Jungkook means no harm and that it is what he has been conditioned to think for thousands of years, but you still bristle at his easy dismissal of their beliefs. “We’re real. Our God is real. Who’s to say the gods of their religion are not?”

"There is one God. That is what we were taught."

"Yes, it is. But we were also led to believe the withering was real. Just because it is said does not mean that it is true.”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, eyes still fixed on the offerings. Then he turns to you. "You truly believe that?" 

"I don't know," you confess, feeling a little exposed. “I don't know what I believe anymore. I'm just… questioning. It's complicated." 

"You have given me a lot to think about," he admits, his tone quiet. “For all I know, you might be right. I shouldn't have dismissed their beliefs so easily. I apologize.”

You stare at him in surprise; you hadn't expected him to back down so easily. "It's okay," you reassure him. "I'd say being open-minded is another lesson, but unfortunately, not all humans are."

You continue to walk around the city, introducing Jungkook to as many things as possible. Everything he does fills you with affection, whether it be him trying hot dogs from a street vendor and declaring them divine, or joining some kids who were playing soccer in a park. At one point, he kicks the ball so hard that it lands in a tree branch, and you can’t help but laugh as he clumsily climbs up to retrieve it.

When night falls, you end up at the pier, watching the shimmering water beneath the stars. Jungkook is oddly quiet, looking out at the horizon with a distant expression. The silence isn't uncomfortable, but it does leave you feeling a little uneasy. You reach for his hand, and he startles slightly before turning to look at you. 

"Penny for your thoughts?" you ask.

He smiles slightly. “I’m guessing that’s some sort of human expression, and you’re not actually going to give me a penny.”

“You would be correct.”

“I’m thinking about a lot of things.” He exhales as if letting out a breath he has been holding. "You, for one. But I'm always thinking of you so that much isn't a surprise." You blush and swat at his arm. "But I’m also thinking about my beliefs."

"What about them?"

He takes a moment to get his thoughts in order, grabbing your hand more tightly as if you're his anchor in a stormy sea. He answers your question with another. "What if everything we have been taught is wrong? I mean, we have never spoken with the Almighty directly. Angels, apostles, they can all take His words and twist them for their own purposes. We've seen it in action with Namsu, and with how the Bible has been changed to promote hatred." 

You're taken aback by his frankness, the depth of his vulnerability. You have no answers for him, but you can relate to him and offer what little understanding you have come to have.

"So maybe it is wrong, and things have gotten taken out of context or changed as the years have gone on. Like you said, we cannot talk to Him, so we can’t ask for the truth. Or, maybe it is all part of a bigger plan, and unwavering faith is the answer.” You pause, steeling your resolve, before continuing, “But it isn’t for me. I can’t live that way. But how you decide to live is your choice. Who you are is your choice. I cannot decide that for you, and neither can He.” 

He frowns. "I don't know how to make that choice. Who even am I? What am I without my purpose? Without Him?"

"Perhaps we're not defined by a single purpose we've been given," you answer quietly. "Maybe we're more than that."

"More than our purpose?" 

"Yeah," you say, a soft smile tugging at your lips. "Maybe we don't need a purpose. Maybe it's okay to just exist." 

Jungkook’s gaze turns thoughtful, considering your words as if they are the most precious thing in the world. "Just exist," he repeats, his voice barely above a whisper. After a moment, he stands up, looking at you with a newfound fire blazing in his eyes. "I need to return. I will talk to some of my confidants, gather information, and then confront Namsu." 

You knew it was coming, but your stomach still drops. You're scared for him, for what will happen when he leaves. But you see the determination in his eyes, the steel in his gaze. You know better than to try and stop him now.

"You'll be careful, right?" you ask, your voice shaking slightly.

"I will."

He pulls you up and envelops you in his arms. His embrace is comforting, protective, and for a brief moment, it makes you forget about all your worries.

"Promise me," you whisper into his chest. 

"I promise," he says, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your back. He pulls away after a moment, but not before brushing his lips against your temple. "I will return. For you."

His words weigh heavy in the air as he pulls away fully, breaking the physical contact between you two. His gaze lingers on you for another moment before he turns away and disappears into the night. You're left standing on the pier alone, the cold wind making you shiver. Wrapping your arms around yourself, you head back to Lost Star, where you have nothing to do but wait.

It’s Christmas Eve before you know it. The holiday you have been dreading feels even worse with Jungkook’s absence, and frankly, you don’t know how to handle it. You plaster a smile on your face for the sake of the children, playing along with their excitement over what presents they are going to get and stories of Santa Claus. But every time someone brings Jungkook up, wondering where he is, you feel tempted to run to Naomi’s office and hide.

Speaking of Naomi, she has been keeping a close watch over you, mothering you as per usual. You know she can tell that something has happened. Once you step away from the festivities to do some of your work, she pulls you aside.

“Honey, what’s going on? These days you seem so out of it; you’re just flitting around room to room, acting like a ghost.” When you don’t answer, she frowns. “It’s because of that boy, isn’t it?”

"He… he needed to go home. He had some things he needed to figure out," you manage to say. It's not a lie, just an oversimplification of the truth.

She wraps an arm around you. "He's going to come back. I saw the way he looked at you, and you at him. And if he doesn't, well, screw him."

"Naomi!" 

"Sorry, sorry. He was sweet and all, but you're my girl. I'll always have your back." Naomi declares, patting you on the back. 

You accept her comfort, fighting back your tears. If only she knew your fear didn’t revolve around him coming back—of course, part of you is scared that something will happen to him, but the rational part of your brain, the part that knows his strength, has no doubts he'll be alright. In actuality, your biggest fear is that he won't be able to stay with you, and you’ll have to go through the pain of losing him all over again.

He's an angel. You're human. There's no future there. Your traitorous heart made you fall harder and harder for him without sparing that a moment's thought, and now you have to will yourself to accept that you'll always be in love with someone you cannot have.

The rest of the day passes in a blur, nothing but forced cheer and mindless chatter. Naomi sticks by your side as much as she can, making sure to redirect everyone who asks you questions about Jungkook. You're grateful for her presence, her constant support, and now more than ever, you realize how lucky you truly are to have her in your life.

As soon as everyone is in bed and your tasks for the day are done, you seek out the solitude of the pier once again. You've been coming here daily since he left. A sentimental thing, mostly, since it was the last place you saw him. But you also hope each night will be the night he returns.

The wind is strong tonight, the kind that chills you down to your bones, and the stars are hidden behind the clouds. You wrap your scarf more tightly around yourself, gazing aimlessly at the turbulent water. Suddenly, there's a bright light and a shrill noise. You aren't scared this time, and it's not nearly as overwhelming as it was. He must have tempered it somehow, made it less painful for you.

The light fades, leaving behind a figure that is unmistakably Jungkook. The sight of him fills you with such relief and happiness that you rush forward, throwing your arms around him. He envelops you in his arms, his wings folding around you, a sigh of contentment escaping his lips as he buries his face in your hair.

"I missed you very much," he says, breathing deeply.

"I missed you too," you whisper, tears prickling at your eyes. "I knew you'd come back."

"I said I would, didn't I?" he teases, pulling away just enough to look at you. "And I have news."

"What happened?" 

You stay locked in his embrace as he speaks, bringing one of your hands to his face to stroke his cheek, to follow the line of his jaw with your fingers. He lets you, as eager to feel your touch as you are to feel his.

"I confronted Namsu," he begins. "But I wasn't alone. There were other angels who had started the 'degradation' process, those who were too fearful of retribution to say anything. I told them everything, and we confronted the other Thrones about Namsu and everything he had done. They didn’t approve of his actions, and they punished him for it." 

"Really?" You ask, eyes wide with surprise. "Just like that? They believed you?"

A soft laugh bubbles up from him. "It wasn't quite that simple. There was plenty of arguing, plenty of disbelief. I’d never seen anything like it. But in the end, Namsu was banished from the celestial realm."

Relief washes over you at his words, the tension you hadn't even realized you were carrying leaving your body. "That's incredible.” 

Jungkook shrugs slightly, but there’s an unmistakable look of pride in his eyes. "I’m just glad he has gotten what he deserves. Now you have justice." He places a gentle kiss on your forehead.

"And what about the others? The ones who have started to degrade?" Your heart clenches at the thought of them being punished for something beyond their control.

"They're safe," Jungkook assures you quickly. "The Thrones have promised to take care of it all. They're going to convene with Him, to see if the Heavenly teachings can be altered. Things are changing up there; I think it's all going to be alright." 

You're overwhelmed with emotion, both relief and dread tugging at you simultaneously. It is good to know that things will be changing, but what is done to you has been done. And now, Jungkook has no reason to stay with you. You take a step back from him. 

"What about you?" you ask quietly, barely daring to meet his gaze.

"What about me?" 

"You have no reason to stay anymore. You can return to your normal duties. You did what was right, and everything is fixed."

"I did what was right, yes, and I'm sure things will be much better from now on," Jungkook agrees. But he steps forward, taking your hands in his and looking deep into your eyes. "But now, I need to do what's right for me." 

"What do you mean?"

"Oh, my star." Your heart stutters at the endearment. "I'm not going anywhere. I want to be with you."

"But… you can only do that if you're—"

"Human, yes," he interrupts. 

"Jungkook! You can't! You can't Fall for me," you half-shout, half-whisper. "You're a good angel, you—"

"Y/N." The force behind his voice stops you. "Even before you showed me the beauty of being human, before I knew how to feel, before I even knew what love was, I would have done anything for you.” His confession takes your breath away, and you wobble on your feet, moving a few steps back from him in your shock. “If you had simply asked it of me, I would have stood with you in the fires of hell for all eternity and still been grateful for each moment spent at your side." 

The tears you were holding back begin to fall. "You would have?" 

“I would. I can. I will.” He moves closer to you with each beat between words until he stands directly in front of you, only a hair's breadth away. Gently, hesitantly—as if for the first time—he takes your hand and presses it to his chest right above where a human heart would be. “Just say the words, and I will fall for you. I will forsake myself and turn my back on Heaven. The pain of losing my wings will be inconsequential compared to the pain of having to be without you.”

"W-what words?"

He smiles, eyes crinkling at the edges. "You know what I want to hear. Be honest. Even better, be selfish, like a human. Tell me what you really want, and I will oblige."

You hesitate. You have been fighting your feelings this entire time, so sure of the fact that Jungkook would choose to continue his life as an angel. You never wanted him to Fall for you, to be torn away from the life he has always known the way you were. But he deserves to make the choice himself. If he wants your honesty, you will give it to him. 

"Speak, Y/N," Jungkook urges, his gaze never leaving yours.

"I want…" You begin slowly, your voice barely a whisper. "I want you. I want you to stay with me." He grins, relief clear in his eyes. "Then I will."

"But you shouldn't have to Fall!" 

"Fall or not, it won't change anything," he assures you. "I chose this path before even knowing there was a choice. I chose you from the second we were created.”

"Even if that means giving up everything?" you ask.

Jungkook’s expression softens. He reaches up and tucks a wayward lock of hair behind your ear. "Does it seem like I’m giving up everything?" he muses aloud, his eyes never leaving yours. "Because from where I stand, it seems like I’m gaining everything.”

"Smooth-talker,” you laugh, a tear slipping down your cheek. He brushes it off with his thumb, his gaze softening even further.

For a moment, you just stand there, looking at each other. It's quiet except for your breathing and the sound of waves crashing against the pier. You have been so afraid of asking him to make this choice, and yet he seems so certain about it, as if it was what he wanted all along.

"Are you sure about this?" you ask him one more time, seeking reassurance. "Once done, there's no going back."

His answer is immediate, "I've never been more sure about anything in my life."

"This will change everything," you say again.

"I know," he replies simply. 

"Come find me when it's over," you whisper, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. "I'll be at the shelter." 

As you go to leave, you can't help but glance back over your shoulder at Jungkook, taking in the appearance of him and his wings one last time. He's still standing there, watching you go with love evident in his gaze. It quells some of your worries. And then you blink, and he’s gone.

The hours that creep by feel like days. You busy yourself with meaningless tasks, cleaning the office, flipping through an old book left on the table, scrolling TikTok. None of it does anything to dull your anxiety, and you're weighing the pros and cons of tearing your hair out before you finally hear a knock on the door. You shoot up to your feet, heart pounding in your chest. Slowly, you open the door, and there he stands. "I'm here," he says simply. "As I promised."

You pull him into a hug once again, burying your head into his chest. You can hear the beat of his human heart and, unable to stop yourself, you burst into tears. You know the pain he just went through, can remember experiencing it yourself like it was yesterday, and you can hardly believe he went through something so awful to be with you. 

"I'm sorry," you whisper, tightening your hold on him. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't be," he coos, gently stroking your hair. "This was my choice."

You swallow hard and pull back from him so you can look into his eyes, searching for any sign of regret. You find none.

"Are you okay?" You ask anyway, your heart aching at the thought of what he has given up.

"I am," he assures, his voice full of conviction. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, and when he pulls away, he's smiling. "I wondered if doing that would feel different now that I'm fully human." 

"And does it?" you ask, smiling back up at him.

"Yes," he admits, tracing an invisible line down your cheek, your neck, your collarbone. You shiver at his touch. "It feels more real. Stronger somehow. It's like you're the break of dawn after a long night." 

Your breath catches in your throat. "Being human certainly hasn't changed the fact that you have a way with words." 

"Only when it comes to you," he replies, his fingers never ceasing their journey across your skin. They make their way back to your waist, where he plays with the hem of your shirt. "There's one lesson we never covered, you know." 

"A-and what would that be?" you squeak as his fingers caress the smooth skin of your stomach.

His voice drops lower, and he tugs you closer by your belt loops. "Human intimacy."

You flush at his audacity but don't pull away. "And what would be the best way for me to teach you about that?" 

"Hm…" He leans down so that his lips hover over yours, and you can feel his warm breath with each word he speaks. "I think I would respond well to some hands-on practice."

Your heartbeat thunders in your ears as his lips press against yours in a slow, searing kiss that turns your knees to jelly. He takes his time exploring your mouth, his lips moving delicately against yours. His hands are warm on your skin, trailing up and down your back as he pulls you closer. 

"Then I suppose we should get started," you manage to whisper when you finally break apart, breathless.

Jungkook moves into the room, closing the door behind him, and sits down on the edge of the pull-out bed. He stares up at you, his once-innocent doe eyes now dark and hooded with desire. You float towards him as if being pulled by a magnet, and he pulls you down so that you’re straddling his lap. Your hands rest on his chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your touch. 

"I think I should warn you," he says, hands sliding down to rest right above the curve of your ass, "I might be a slow learner."

You roll your eyes, a short, playful chuckle escaping from your lips. "I think I can handle that."

The room fills with an easy silence as you continue to explore each other, experiencing sensations new for the both of you. His hands trace every curve and dip of your body, his touch curious yet surprisingly confident. Your fingers trace the lines of his face, his jaw, his chest, and then find their way under his shirt to the newly-formed scars on his back. They are rough against your fingertips, a stark contrast to the rest of his smooth skin. 

"You aren't in pain?” 

“No,” he assures you, his hands sliding to a similar position on your own back. "Were you for long after?"

"No, but I'm still worried," you smile sheepishly.

He laughs and kisses your nose. "Don't be. Don't feel like you have to be gentle with me. I won't break." 

You laugh in return, your eyes twinkling with delight and a touch of mischief. "Is that a challenge, Jungkook?" 

He hums in response, his gaze never leaving yours. "Maybe." 

His teasing reply only spurs you on. Rising to the bait, you lean in to kiss him, this time with a boldness that leaves him momentarily stunned. But he recovers quickly, matching your fervor and deepening the kiss. Your hands weave into his hair, pulling him closer, and his hips jut up against you almost involuntarily. You moan at the sensation, and he stills.

"What was that?" he asks.

"That," you breathe out, "is what human intimacy sounds like." 

"I want to hear it again." 

His lips find yours again and this time it's deep and demanding, all teeth and tongue and the promise of what’s to come. His hands grab your waist, forcing you to grind down against him as he once again lifts his hips up to meet your core. Another moan escapes your lips, the sound quickly swallowed by his hungry mouth. He tugs at the hem of your shirt, his fingertips skimming against the skin of your lower back. Eagerly, you lift your arms, and he pulls it off over your head.

"Jungkook…" you whimper, clutching at his shoulders. He responds by nuzzling into your neck, his hot breath making you shiver with pleasure. 

"You're so beautiful," he murmurs against the curve of your neck, his lips tracing the column of your throat, down to your chest. 

He places a gentle kiss above each breast before descending lower still, sucking one into his mouth. His lips and tongue move expertly, drawing gasps from you as your nerves ignite with pleasure. His hands are firm on your waist, holding you securely against him as he devotes himself entirely to exploring the new terrain, and you grind against him wantonly. You can feel that your panties are soaked with the proof of your desire. 

"Jungkook," you say again, your hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. His name is a plea, a prayer. "I need more."

He pulls back, his lips swollen from his ministrations. "And so I'll give it to you." 

You eagerly crawl off of him, shimmying out of your jeans, before settling with your back against the pillows. You grab at the air, beckoning him closer. He does the same, now only in his boxers, and slots himself on top of you, his bare skin against yours intensifying the burning desire coursing through your veins. His hard length presses against your core, and you whine.

"I don't know what I'm doing," he admits in a low voice, his hot breath fanning against your face as his eyes search yours for assurance.

You reach up, caressing his cheek. "It's okay," you soothe him, your hands then trailing down his back to rest on his hips, encouraging him closer. "We'll figure it out together."

His lips find your neck as his hands explore every inch of you, his rough fingers exploring the softness of your flesh. He slides one down over your stomach and lower still, feather-light touches teasing you until you're gasping beneath him. His fingers trace the edge of your panties before sliding the fabric down. You lift your hips, aiding him in removing the last barrier between you. He tosses them aside before returning his attention to you, his fingers skimming along your trembling thighs. His fingers move gradually, inching steadily upward until he's touching you where you're most sensitive. You let out a soft gasp, gripping the sheets.

"Is this okay?" he asks. You nod eagerly, unable to get the words out, and he chuckles, placing a gentle kiss at the base of your throat. "Good."

Always the over-achiever, he slides down your body until his face is level with your core, focusing intently on his work. His fingers move with a slow, calculated rhythm that quickly has you dripping for him. Eventually, he slips one of his fingers inside of you. Your breath hitches, your hands clutching at his shoulders for support.

"Am I doing this right?" he asks, uncertainty creeping into his voice as he looks up at you from between your thighs. 

"You must be," you gasp out, encouraging him with a roll of your hips. "Don't stop."

Grinning, he adds a second finger, working you open until you're panting and squirming beneath him. Your back arches off the bed as his fingers work their magic, curling in just the right way that has you seeing stars. Praise tumbles from your lips, but you're sure that it just sounds like nonsense, your thoughts too muddled to form coherent words. 

"You're so wet," he murmurs in a low, gravelly voice that only adds fuel to your desire. 

Without warning, he lowers his mouth to your core, his lips and tongue joining his exploring fingers. The sensation is electric; your breath hitches, and an animalistic moan escapes you. He takes it as a sign of encouragement, doubling his efforts. Your fingers find their way to his hair, threading into the dark strands, seeking purchase. You can't help but pull, and he moans against you, the vibrations only furthering your pleasure. 

"Jungkook," you warn, "I'm—" 

A coil of white heat tightens within you before snapping. His name slips from your lips as you climax, sparks dancing behind your eyelids as he continues to pleasure you, eagerly lapping up your release. He doesn't stop, not until you physically pull him away from you, body shaking with overstimulation. He climbs back up your body, his lips finding yours in a gentle kiss. You can taste yourself on his lips.

"You okay?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. 

His pupils are blown out with desire, his hair slicked back with sweat, and he's so attractive that just the sight of him has you clenching your thighs together. 

You nod, cupping his face in your hands. "More than okay," you assure him. "That was amazing. Now," you slide your fingers down his chest, sliding over the waistband of his boxers. "Let's see what we can do about you."

You hook your thumbs around the fabric and pull them downwards, and he does the rest of the work, kicking them off. You reach down, your fingers tentatively wrapping around his cock. He gasps, his head falling forward against your chest as you begin to stroke him with a slow, measured rhythm. 

He nearly whines, his grip tightening on your hips. "That feels… I can't…" His words dissolve into soft, broken moans as you continue to work him over.

Suddenly overtaken with need, you stop, pulling him in for another searing kiss. "I need you inside of me, Jungkook," you gasp against his lips, "Please." 

Your hand guides him back to your core, and his breath hitches. “Are you ready?”

Nodding, you lift your hips to meet him. He pushes into you carefully, slowly, each inch an intense sensation for both of you. Your body clenches around him as if welcoming him home, a strangled moan escaping your lips. One of his hands clasps yours, bringing it to rest on the side of your head while he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breaths fanning your skin. He's shaking against you, and you feel just as overwhelmed. 

You squeeze the hand that's holding yours, urging him on. "You're okay," you whisper, "I'm okay. Move."

He nods, pulling out almost all the way before thrusting back inside of you. Your body jolts at the sensation, gasping his name over and over. 

"You feel incredible," he breathes out, the statement more for himself than for you. “So perfect.” Your fingers thread through his hair once more, pulling him down to meet your lips.

His hips set a steady rhythm, filling the room with soft sounds of skin on skin and heavy panting. He lets out a low groan as he adjusts his angle, hitting a spot inside of you that has you crying out and grabbing at him wherever you can reach. You wrap your legs around his waist, throwing your head back against the pillows.

"That's it," you whine, "Right there. It feels so good—" 

Your words cut off into a choked moan as he thrusts into you at that exact spot again and again, his movements becoming more erratic. He's close—you can tell by the way his body tenses and how he gasps desperately into your mouth. 

"I'm… I'm—" he stammers out, breath hitching between each word.

"I know," you gasp out, meeting him thrust for thrust. "Me too." 

You pull him as close as possible, holding him to you as you both chase your release. Your eyes squeeze shut, and your nails dig into his skin as a wave of pleasure crashes over you, even more intense than the last. You moan his name as you come, shuddering beneath him. He moans into your neck as he follows you over the edge, his hips bucking uncontrollably as he buries himself deep inside you. 

He collapses on top of you, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his heavy breathing tickling your skin. He stays there, nestled inside of you, his heart pounding against your chest, matching the rapid rhythm of your own. You feel dizzy, your senses overwhelmed by him—his scent, his taste, the feel of him on top of you and within you. You caress his back, slowly tracing the contours of his scars with gentle strokes, the action soothing for both of you. 

Eventually, he shifts, carefully pulling himself out of you and collapsing onto his back next to you. His hand searches blindly for yours, lacing your fingers together once he finds it. He brings your joined hands up to his lips and places a soft kiss on your knuckles.

"Is… are you…" He lifts his head to meet your eyes, unable to form words. 

"I'm more than okay," you assure him softly, brushing a stray lock of hair off his forehead.

"Good," he whispers, a contented sigh escaping him. 

His eyes roam over your face once more before closing, his grip on your hand tightening ever so slightly. Together, you lay there under the sheets, and the silence goes on for so long that you almost think he fell asleep. 

Then suddenly, you hear him say, voice barely above a whisper, "I love you." You look over to see him staring up at you with adoration in his gaze and a soft smile on his lips. "I know I don't have to say it since surely there can be no doubt that everything I have done for you is out of love. But I want to say it anyway. I want to continue saying it for the rest of my life. I have loved you since before I even had the capacity to feel it, and I will continue to love you until time ceases to exist."

His confession leaves you breathless, and you can do little but turn on your side, grab his face, and place a gentle kiss on his lips. Tears prick at the corner of your eyes, threatening to spill down your cheeks.

"I love you too, Jungkook," you whisper against his lips, "So very, very much." 

He lets out an audible sigh of relief as if he had been holding his breath, waiting for your response. His free hand reaches out to caress your cheek, wiping away a tear that had managed to escape. "I knew you would say so, but I'm happy to hear it all the same."

The two of you get ready for bed, and, for the first time since commandeering Naomi’s office, you fall asleep together in each other's arms.

The day you have been dreading has arrived—Christmas. Despite your initial hatred, however, you find yourself actually participating in the festivities around the shelter. Just like as many others do, you aren't going to consider it a holy day. You're going to use it as an excuse to be happy and spend time with your loved ones. 

You join the group of children who sit by the pile of gifts, their excitement palpable as they eagerly wait for Naomi to declare it time to open them. Small hands tug at Jungkook’s sleeve, pulling him down to their level as they bombard him with questions about where he's been. He settles down amongst them, answering their questions as honestly as he can. His eyes meet yours over the sea of eager faces, and he stretches out a hand towards you, inviting you to join him. You sit right on his lap, making some of the kids giggle.

"Alright, everyone, it's time!" Naomi's voice echoes through the shelter, immediately quieting the children down. 

As each name is called out and the kids scramble to collect their gifts, you can't help but smile. The pure delight on their faces is infectious. Noticing your happiness, Jungkook pulls you back so that you’re leaning against his chest, his arms wrapping around your waist. 

He places a gentle kiss on your neck, murmuring, "You seem happy."

"I am," you say, placing your hands over his. "The holidays aren't so bad with you around."

"I'm glad." He turns your head so he can place a quick kiss on your lips, one that is light and soft and sweet, full of love. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas, Jungkook," you echo, smiling brightly. 

Later, Naomi corners the two of you, pulling you aside. "I've been thinking about what to give you," she says. "I—"

"Naomi, you don't have to give me anything!"

"Don't interrupt me," she scolds, but there's no bite behind it. "Like I was saying, I was thinking it over, and I realized that the best gift I could offer is not anything material. From tomorrow on, you will officially be a supervisor. A paid supervisor." 

Your eyes widen in surprise, and you glance at Jungkook, who is beaming at you with pride. You turn back to Naomi, stuttering out a response.

"B-but Naomi, I couldn't possibly—"

"Yes, you can," she interrupts, her tone firm. "From the day you arrived here, you have been working as hard as any of us. You deserve this." Before you can argue any further, she thrusts a small envelope into your hands. "Consider it an early Christmas gift and your first paycheck. And my office? It's yours."

"Thank you, Naomi," you manage, your voice choked with emotion. You pull her into a hug, hoping it can express everything you don't know how to say. 

She pats your back, chuckling. "If anything, it's an excuse for me to take some time off. I'm getting old and need to start sharing the burden. Don't expect it to be a walk in the park!"

You pull away, wiping a stray tear from your eye. "Of course not. I'm ready to be worked to the bone, ma'am." 

"That's what I like to hear," she comments, her voice carrying an undertone of pride. She turns to Jungkook, her gaze soft but words sharp. "Take care of her, will you?"

"Always," he replies without a moment's hesitation, which earns him a small nod from Naomi.

Eventually, the celebrations wind down and people start to retreat to their beds until only you and Jungkook remain. Instead of doing the same, you decide to return to the pier and watch the water for a bit, not ready for the day to end. The two of you walk in comfortable silence, hands linked tightly as if promising not to let go. 

Sitting at the edge of the pier, Jungkook wraps an arm around your shoulder, pulling you closer to him. His body heat seeps into your skin, fighting away the cold, and you rest your head on his chest, letting his strong, steady heartbeat lull you into contentment. 

"Who would've thought we would end up here?" you reflect, staring out at the ocean. 

Jungkook laughs softly, his chest rumbling beneath your ear. "I don't think either of us could have predicted this."

"I never thought I would be happy that any of this happened, but I am. Are you?"

His gaze softens as he takes in the sight of you. "More than I could possibly put into words," he admits. 

"Will you miss it, though? Heaven?"

"I thought I would," he says, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. "But Earth has its own kind of heaven. You're here. Naomi is here. The children are here. I have so much more yet to discover, to experience." His gaze returns to you, eyes soft and full of love. "How could I miss anything when I have all of this?”

Your heart swells at his words, his declaration warming you like nothing else could. You reach up to cup his face, your fingers lightly brushing his lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment at your touch before opening again to hold your gaze.

"You're right," you whisper, your voice barely carrying over the sound of the waves. "This is our heaven. Here, with each other. And who knows, maybe we'll end up back there someday."

"You think?" Jungkook asks, raising an eyebrow. "I must say, I'm a little surprised hearing that from you. I didn't think you had faith anymore or wanted it for that matter."

You shrug. "Honestly, I don't know. I don't have my original beliefs anymore, that's for sure, but I don't resent it all like I once did, either. I think I've just found a new kind of faith. A faith in myself, in people, in goodness, and in love. There are so many different kinds of religions out there, and at their core, they're all about trying to understand the world around us, trying to find ways to cope and move forward. I think that's what I'm doing now, in my own way."

"That's beautiful," Jungkook says, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. "Somehow both simple and complex. Just like life itself, I suppose."

"And what about you, Jungkook?” you ask, pecking him on the lips. How will you move forward?"

"Honestly, I'm not sure, either. But I think I'm happy to find out, as long as it's with you." 

You hold each other close, each hoping your touch can express what no words could possibly convey. Love. Gratitude. Hope. The promise of a shared journey. What more could you possibly ask for?

TAGLIST: @yessa-vie

[princessbrunette]

Jedi John b breaking his code to fuck you, the princess of a distant planet he was assigned to protect

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

john b had his serious face on today.

his eyes had clouded over almost, brows in a permanent frown and it was like you could see every thought racing through his head though you didn’t know what they were. you’d stayed quiet on the journey, hands in your lap as the stars flash past you through the windows. whatever john b was planning, it must’ve been important.

you’re not expecting to land in the most beautiful planet you’d ever seen. as a princess, you’d had the privilege of getting to see the galaxy. some beautiful, some struck by war and impoverished — but you’d never seen this place before.

when you’d asked “wow, where are we john b?”

he’d simply responded with “uh, very far from home.” before whistling to his droid to get it to follow the two of you down the ramp.

you’d walked for a while, and you didn’t question anything merely because you were too amazed by the beauty of your surroundings. forestscape surrounds you, vibrant purple flowers entwining the thick branches and the sun beginning to set leaving a pink hue over everything light touched. he cranes round to check on you as he leads you through the scenery, eyes lingering on you when he sees you smiling, a bird like creature you’d never seen before fluttering past, your eyes following in amusement. maker, you were beautiful.

you eventually come to a building, seemingly abandoned at the edge of the forest overlooking the great waterfalls and he holds his hand out. this strikes you as odd because john b never offers to hold your hand, attempting to be professional, you usually simply grab it anyway.

soon, you’re standing in the bright orange sunset infront of the open balcony doors, sheet curtains blowing in the gentle humid breeze.

“why are we here, john b?” your voice is soft like fine silk a hand gently touching his back as he faces away from you.

“so… the other night you begged me for something.” he begins sincerely, staring into your eyes in the intense way he always did once he turns to face you. you’re immediately swarmed by the memory of you begging him to touch you and physically cringe.

“john b, i’m terribly sorry. i had simply had too much wine at the senate gala and i was absolutely beside myself. i shouldn’t have—”

“no just… listen, okay?” he raises his eyebrows, forehead crinkling at the stress on his face and you sink, nodding as you hear him out. he wipes a hand along his jaw in thought before speaking once more. “people seem to think i’m this… perfect jedi, as if that even exists.” he rants, shaking his head, voice low and timbery. “truth is it’s never been hard for me to act like one. i believe in all the rules so, why would i disobey them right?”

he steps closer to you, tilting his head as your eyes drift off in thought to catch your gaze, his own eyes wide and puppy like.

“you make that hard for me because i… just wanna have you all to myself.”

your breath hitches in your throat. he looked insanely gorgeous in that moment, orange glow of the sunset casting shadows across him and warming the highest points of his face, his brown wavy hair lit up and highlighted by the unrelenting sun.

“you do?” you whisper but it’s barely audible. he presses his lips together, brows raised as he nods slowly, taking another step until you were practically chest to chest.

“yep, yes. i do.” his deep voice rumbles infront of you. your brows furrow sympathetically, doe eyes making it hard for him to resist you.

“i’m sorry john b. i never wanted to make it difficult to remain faithful to the jedi council.” you shake your head in worry and he stills you with a soft hand on your cheek, ducking his head.

“hey. don’t be sorry. you… make me feel like a person.” his voice lowers, and you can’t help but selfishly glance at his mouth — in which he does the same.

“s’that why you brought me here john b? to feel like a person?” you breathe, practically sharing oxygen.

“i brought you here…” he begins to walk you slowly backwards towards the large bed. “to make you feel as good as you make me feel. without the concern of anyone else catching us.” he promises and your legs hit the back of the bed, sitting you down with a bounce. you feel the heat rush over your body, the same arousal you felt the night you begged him to touch you — already feeling the slick coating your opening, body desperate to take him. “if, you know… that’s alright with you ma’am.” his lips twitch a little and you bite your smile back, nodding violently.

one thing about the jedi, they had phenomenal stamina. it feels like you’re in and out of consciousness at some points, so lost in a haze of pleasure that you’d forgotten where you were and what was happening. nothing else in the galaxy mattered but john b’s head between your legs, his thick arms, toned from the extensive training a jedi goes through wrapped around your thighs to hold you open, naked body glowing with perspiration as you writhe on the bed.

“m’mph— john—john b, my goodness i’m—” you cry, like actually cry — because it had been such a long time coming. he lifts his head with a sweet smile, chin glossed with your slick and he pushes himself up to hover over you, lips ghosting over yours. you can smell yourself, taste yourself on him, it was all too much.

“you’re crying sweet girl?” he hums in awe, nudging your legs open with his own to slot himself over you.

“please let me feel you. please!” you beg once more, this time with no shame and he pecks your cheek.

“oh you will. it’s a good thing being a jedi taught me patience, right? because… i’m not done making you cum on my tongue.” he drops his voice for the last part, tilting his head, hot breath on your jaw as you shudder. he was right, he was patient — but even you could see the way he was throbbing in his pants for you.

•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•⑅♡⑅•

[thejujvtsupost]

Hello, I am a first timer here. I would like to humbly request something. Can I please request for a Platonic Nanami and adopted daughter reader. The reader is not used to a normal environment and they are used to fighting and surviving

Girl Dad Transformation

I’ve been stewing over this so hard bc it’s been giving me the cutest ideas!!!! And ofc Yuuji is so big brother coded here.

Notes: F!reader, brotherly!Yuuji, Nanami and his adopted daughter 🥺. That’s it.

Nanami didn’t think about the long term impact of adopting the orphaned sorcerer. Surely he wouldn’t change that much…

All he knew was there was a 5 year old girl clutching her only toy- a stuffed bear, who could see ‘scary monsters’ and no longer had any family, thanks to the curse that was tormenting humans for fun; he was just a little too late.

The poor thing was terrified. In the blink of an eye his hand was seized by a freezing, much smaller one with a death grip.

Nanami got you looked at by Shoko and you refused to let go of him the entire time. By the looks of it, you were malnourished and you frequently got injured from curses. Your home life was fairly unstable too, financial issues and absent-detached parents. Shoko got a lot more information from you than he ever expected, piecing together some of your history from your seemingly unrelated answers, as children do.

“She’s going to have to stay for observation, probably several weeks until we can get her healthy enough. She’s going to need a special diet too, I haven’t seen a case this bad in a long time and she’s too young for cursed energy.”

His heart was crushed for you, when was the last time you had somewhere stable? “Why are you telling me?”

“You found her, she’s clearly attached to you and you know you can’t turn away now. You look at her like she’s Itadori. It’s just until I can find a place for her at a home or foster.” Shoko never fails with her dead pan demeanor and sass.

She was also right.

He looked back at you, you were passed out in your hospital bed covered by several blankets and hugging your bear. Finally, you were warming up. Finding you a home could take months if you went to a foster or orphanage… “Don’t bother,” he swallowed thickly, “I will adopt her.”

Shoko’s face softened further, “You can’t go back on it, you already earned her trust. If you’re really sure then I think this will be good for both of you.”

He did his best to be at your bedside when he could, and you were quiet but clearly in need of comfort. Your favorite thing to do was have him read to you with cartoons on a low volume in the background. “Nami, book?” Nanami picked up a book off the stack Shoko brought and started reading. No complaints, and after the first few days he didn’t bother hiding his smile anymore.

He spent a fortune on converting his spare bedroom into yours. He didn’t even know what 5 year olds liked, but according to the first years and Shoko, he needed to make sure you had various toys (he bought everything Yuuji pointed out to him- Yuuji definitely went overboard but Nanami didn’t stop him), clothes and of course you’d need signed up for school.

When the adoption was final and he brought you home for the first time, he was thoroughly instructed how to parent by then, he was ready.

You… weren’t. Not yet. You didn’t know that your room was yours. All the toys and clothes, everything was yours. ‘Nami’ kept the ‘scary monsters’ away too…

“Hey it’s okay honey, I know it’s a big change.” He wiped the tears from your chubby cheeks and smiled softly. “You belong here, you’re safe now.”

A grown up was taking care of you, for good this time.

It was a journey every day but worth it as you came out of your shell, and he encouraged you with a gentle hand. Of course there were setbacks too. He wasn’t perfect, he definitely wasn’t good at laundry at first.

He was new to parenting and it was exhaustingly difficult to navigate yet he was completely whipped for you, never turning down a tea party or invitation to watch cartoons together. He became a complete girl dad overnight.

All it took was, “Nami! Play!” And he’d be on the floor in the living room playing with the doll you handed him.

You started eating more, even requesting different meals when he asked what you were in the mood to eat. “Nami, can we have soba?”

Nanami couldn’t say no to you. “Soba sounds great.” He’d have the softest smile on his face too.

You played more often, and eventually made friends! Yuuji claimed the title as your first friend but you were encouraged to make more- he helped you practice asking your classmates about themselves and how to invite them to play with you.

And Nanami… he never forced you to call him dad. He loved you more than he ever thought possible. He was always proud to call you his daughter, bragging about your excellent kindergarten grades and your recent achievement of becoming the line leader at school for the week.

But the first time you did happened a month in, while doing your bedtime routine and picking out a night night story. Instead of ‘Nami’ he was gifted: “Daddy, can you read the star book?” He let out a tear and hugged you tight.

Nanami tucked you in, kissed your forehead and sat on the edge of your bed, “Yeah honey, I’ll read you the star book.”

Thinking about making a request? Check my bio to see if they’re open and stay tuned <3

[jeonginsleftcheek]

The sun to me

Chapter VII. Listen.

pairing: hwang hyunjin x afab!reader

word count: 7.3k words

chapter summary: if you have the ability to listen closely, you can even hear the flowers grow.

warnings: just a few angsty thoughts

~ Masterlist for the series

~ next part

🩷 Camellia - passion, desire, fascination.

It's only on special days that you don't open your shop, and you can do it since you know everyone's schedules and needs, anniversaries and birthdays.

And today is a special day. You're taking Hyunjin to one of your other favorite places on the island except the little hidden cove. Your heart is giddy in your chest, you feel like a petal swirling in the wind constantly, never once stopping as the sound of his laughter lifts you up into heights you've never even dreamed of before.

"Hiii!"- you wave as he walks towards you, this time a few minutes earlier than he's supposed to, wearing a big smile on his face that you mirror with an identical smile of your own.

"Hiii!"- he greets equally as enthusiastically.

"Are you ready to climb?"- you chuckle, checking if he has his climbing shoes on.

"Yeah, Isaac had some shoes to lend. I think they were his son's or something."- Hyunjin grimaces and you nod.

"They'll be put to a good use."- you say with an unrelenting smile.

You make your way to the other side of the island, both of you ready and excited to climb a semi-large hill that was the highest peak on the land.

You've climbed it a million times, legs aching and lungs out of breath as you stood atop the hill, but the view was worth every single step taken up.

"I might be a little out of shape."- Hyunjin makes an almost digusted looking face as the hill looms above the two of you.

"Same here. We will die on the hill together."- you add with a snicker and he laughs a little.

"I hope we find a good reason to die for."- he shrugs with a raised eyebrow and you chuckle.

"That's grim."- you shake your head as the two of you start making your way up.

The beginning is always the most forgiving part, when you first set foot on the ground, the strength you've gathered before starting to climb is what carries your legs upwards.

"You seem to know your way around here pretty well."- Hyunjin follows you on the beaten path, beautiful trees adorning it and his trusty camera is there to capture the nature's beauty and the sweetness of you.

The morning air is crisp and fresh as the birds sing above your heads, a light breeze caressing your skin and running through your hair.

"Yeah, my mom used to take me here ever since I was little, we'd pick all the different flowers that grew here and make a little bouquet. She'd always tell me what each flower is called, that was a given, always a lesson in it."- you say. "But, I climbed it many times alone too."

"Weren't you scared of climbing the hill alone? I mean, I'd be a little scared if I like fell or something and no one was there to help me."

"I literally became a mountain goat from climbing this hill so many times. My feet know the way with my eyes closed."- you say and Hyunjin laughs a little. "And I'm used to doing things alone. It's weird being here with you."

"A good weird, I hope."- Hyunjin smiles at you expectantly, with his brows lifted and his dimples deep on his rosy cheeks.

"Sure."- you teasingly wiggle your eyebrows.

The forest gets more dense the more you climb up, the middle of the journey is always the thickest to go through, right before everything culminates into one sunny peak.

Hyunjin breathes hard behind you, stopping to lean down, his hands planted above his knees, looking up at you with a frowny face. You chuckle at him and he lets out a breath.

"Sorry, I'm kinda dying over here."- he says breathily.

"Don't worry, we can continue when you're done dying."- you joke and he chuckles as he grabs his water, gulping down on the refreshing liquid.

"For real, we can sit down for a moment if you want to."- you point to a bench with a table near by. "They put these here for a reason."

"Sure, I'd like that."- he says and the two of you sit down so you take the fruit salad you prepared out of your backpack.

"Oh fruit! That's refreshing."- Hyunjin smiles happily and you giggle at him as he takes out his favorite thermos bottle full of coffee.

"I have a spare cup."- he says and you nod.

"Great, we have breakfast."- you chuckle and Hyunjin pours the coffee into the two metal cups, as you take out two plastic forks you had packed.

The two of you start munching on the fruit and enjoying the silence. Hyunjin is sitting next to you and you can't help but notice him slowly and progressively getting closer to you.

You have no idea if he's doing it on purpose or if it's the force of the magnetic field that had appeared between your souls and bodies that's also pulling you in towards him.

Electricity runs down your spine as his knee presses on yours slightly, even the smallest touch is enough to send your body into overdrive, making you remember how you enjoyed yourself while thinking about him.

Your core throbs and embarassment washes over you as you look at his face and his cheeks seem to wear a deep red color too.

"Isaac taught me some whittling."- Hyunjin tries to avoid any kind of awkwardness creating around you, dissipating it into thin air with a nonchalant expression.

"What did you make?"

"A few things, mostly animals. He's making me his student."- Hyunjin chuckles, the movement shaking his knee against yours and rattling your bones awake. "And I mean, he's a good mentor, really. He also told me about his wife and son. The complete story."

"Yes, it's actually really sad. But, I mean it's partly his fault. Not his son dying, to clarify, Leo was always depressed as he probably told you, but his wife leaving him; it takes two people to build a good, strong relationship."

"I do agree with that, except I kinda know how he felt, the only difference between me and him is that he was happy about what he was doing and I'm not. That's why I'm sitting here with you instead of being off somewhere making a fool out of myself. I don't think I'd ever let myself come to what he came to and I'm not excusing his behaviour. It's just that he seems like a good man and I feel bad that his life was like that."- Hyunjin clarifies, as he munches on the sliced orange, his lips pursed even more when he talks like that, making you swallow the saliva gathering in your throat.

They look so inviting to you in that moment, plump and saccharine, promising a love so gentle and familiar. One that burns deep in your heart and never ceases, one that has burned through your entire being for centuries, maybe in another life, maybe in another galaxy far away, maybe on another plane of existence.

Hyunjin is everything.

Everything inside you and around you is made out of him or he is made out of everything, his fingerprints like circles on a tree stump, his eyes like the stars adorning the sky at night, his veins like the roots of your flowers, blossoming in your garden.

You wish to get at least one taste of his being, but you know that if you do, you will become addicted and never be able to turn away again.

The thought of something like that scares you down to the very depths of your tired soul. What ifs are swimming around your head, every negative thought picking at your brain and not letting you enjoy the simple moment you're in.

"... and then I told him that I really can't do that because there are some policies regarding those kind of exhibitions but the man was so insistant. Like, Charlie almost called the police on him, he really wanted to get a restraining order against him."- Hyunjin talks and you realize you haven't even been listening to him.

"Wow, some people never give up."- you shake your head at what you last heard, feeling bad that you got distracted by your own mind.

"I have a lot of horror stories involving people like that. I try to avoid them but my manager always pushes me to go to those parties. I'm sick of it all. Really."

"I know."- you nod.

"I'm probably annoying talking about myself all the time, whining about everything."- Hyunjin smiles apologetically and you chuckle.

"No no, I like listening to you. Sometimes you need to vent."- you say and he agrees.

You sit at the table as you finish your coffee, moving onto more light themes again.

As you continue to make you way up, a whirlwind of memories climbs up with you, all the years as you've grown and walked up with your mother, later on your own and both you and Hyunjin get lost in your thoughts, the last ounces of energy that you carry within are dancing you up the hill in a haze.

It's like that last part of the journey takes everything out of you but as the view of the entire island and the world beyond it starts appearing before your eyes, you slowly come to your senses.

Hyunjin and you climb up all the way to the highest rock, just to stand on it and breathe for a few silent moments.

Enraptured in the beauty of it all, Hyunjin's hands are automatically on his camera as he lifts it up and takes a few photos.

"Wow."- he says. "Wow."

"I know right?"- you chuckle after drinking some water.

"I think this is the most beautiful view I've ever seen, worthy of a painting."

"Well, I hope you brought your sketchbook. I- um, I brought mine."- you say sheepishly and Hyunjin's head snaps towards you, his hair flying around his face.

"Really?! Oh my god, that is so exciting!"- you laugh, not expecting that reaction. "We can draw together."- he smiles so sweetly and softly, his eyes all sparkly and you wish to etch that look on his face in your mind forever.

"Yeah, let's sit under that tree, I brought a blanket that I use for picnics."- you say and Hyunjin giggles, following you.

There's no one around, no one except the comforting nature as the two of you sit under a big tree, the expanse of the island in front of your eyes.

"There's Isaac's house! And your flower shop! And Bennet's restaurant!"- Hyunjin points excitedly and you use the moment to grab his camera that he put aside and snap pictures of him.

Hyunjin is used to the lens of the camera being on him but as he turns to look at you smiling at the picture you just took of him, something tugs at his heart.

You reach the camera towards him and he looks at the picture of himself, pointing towards something and a wide smile across his lips. The pose is so natural and he realizes the difference between some detached person taking a picture of his good angle for the press, to sell the paintings, sell the artist, sell the lie; and between someone who actually cares for him.

"What?"- you chuckle embarassingly as Hyunjin stares at you.

Before you can react, he lifts the camera up and snaps a pic of you.

You both chuckle as he puts it down and grabs his sketchbook.

"What are you gonna sketch?"- he asks as you also grab yours.

"I don't know yet."- you say as you turn the pages.

"I want to paint the view of the island so I'll sketch that first."- he says.

"Can't wait to see it."- you smile and the two of you start sketching.

It's quiet, except if one of you remembers something random and shortly talks about it.

But you're enjoying the fact that you can sit in silence with Hyunjin, coming to a point like that is something that's hard to achieve but with him it happens so naturally.

Hyunjin revels in the quietness too, his mind at ease. Any other woman he'd ever met would be all over him, asking him this and that, trying to get into his pants and into his wallet. Hwang Hyunjin, the artist, the celebrity.

But here with you, he is just Hyunjin, just a guy who likes to paint and take pictures of beautiful moments and people he loves.

You don't know how long the two of you spend sketching but your stomachs are empty indicating that it's probably around time for lunch.

"I'm done, I think."- Hyunjin says, eyes scanning the page.

"Me too. Let's swap."- you say and the two of you swap sketchbooks at the same time.

Just as you thought, Hyunjin has done a beautiful rendition of the island and you hear him giggle so you look up.

"You sketched my hands?"- he asks, his cheeks red.

"Y-yeah."- you stutter a little, your face heating up too. "I was watching you sketch and I really like the rings you wear, and your hands looked really delicate so I wanted to draw them. Don't know if I did them justice, though."

"Oh you definitely did, it really looks like my hands. You're amazing with this."- he stares at the sketch again.

You wanted to tell him how attractive his hands are, not all your thoughts were pure as you imagined his pretty hands burning their shape on your body and claiming you as his.

You throb again for the second time today, shaking off your thoughts, you grab some water and drink in an attempt to calm down.

"Can I have it?"- Hyunjin asks cutely, his eyes innocent and big as he points at your sketch.

"I mean, sure, if you want."- you chuckle.

"Thanks."- he smiles wide and gently pulls the paper from the spine, putting it in his sketchbook when you return it to him.

"Should we head back soon? I think my stomach is completely empty right now."- you say and Hyunjin nods.

"Mine too. Let's just sit for a few more minutes."- he says and you nod.

As you prop your hands on either sides of you and lean back, Hyunjin does the same and his hand falls close to yours, the fingertips of his pinky and ring finger touch the tops of yours.

You jolt a little but keep looking forward and so does he. Time stops for a few moments, neither of you addressing your fingers touching or flinching away.

The urge to tumble into his embrace vibrates in your body but you hold it in barely, and Hyunjin hyperventilates on the inside wanting nothing more than to squeeze your hand and hold it to his chest so you can feel just how hard his heart beats for you.

After a refreshing shower, Hyunjin is grateful that Isaac has finished cooking lunch just in time as he arrived into the dining room.

"All that climbing probably got you starved. Sit down, son."- Isaac gestures to the chair with a kind smile on his face.

Hyunjin wastes no time as he sits and starts putting food on his plate, thanking Isaac for the lunch.

The older man observes Hyunjin as he hums to himself, one of his legs propped up under his other thigh, a small smile on his face as he chews.

The difference between this giddy-in-love boy sitting across from him and the sad, hunched over boy that first arrived to his house is enormous and Isaac knows that Hyunjin had definitely found what he was looking for here, even if he wasn't aware of it yet.

"So, did you kiss her or something?"- Isaac asks suddenly and Hyunjin coughs, almost choking on his food.

"W-what? No."- he says quickly, embarassment seeping into his cheeks.

"You look really happy, Hyunjin. I'm glad for you and please do kiss her soon. Take the chance, don't lose it."- Isaac sips on his tea.

"What makes you think she'd want me to kiss her?"

"Are you blind? The two of you look head over heels for each other."- Isaac chuckles and Hyunjin looks befuddled.

"How do you know-"

"I saw the two of you as you came back, I was walking home from the store. The way she looked at you is how my Celia looked at me before I fucked it all up. So, be smarter than me, will you?"- Isaac smiles a little.

"I will. And... Thanks, Isaac."- Hyunjin gives a wide smile to Isaac, feeling grateful for everything.

"No need."- the man returns the smile and Hyunjin's heart is overflowing with warmness, the feeling slowly bringing his soul back to his body.

Hyunjin is making his way down to the beach, wanting to take some more pictures of the island just as he hears a voice calling his name.

He turns towards the source, only to find Bennet smiling at him.

"Meeting up with y/n again?"- Bennet asks with a smirk on his face.

Hyunjin's body washes over with warmness, news travels quickly on a small island.

"No, I was just gonna take some pictures and walk around."- Hyunjin answers.

"Mind if I join you for a while?"- Bennet asks, lifting up two cans of beer.

"Sure."- Hyunjin nods with a smile.

They make their way to a park near by, complete with benches and tables. Bennet props his leg up, opening up his can and leaning his hand on his knee.

Hyunjin sits cross-legged as he takes the other can, the satisfying sound of it opening, popping in his ear.

"Do you smoke?"- Bennet asks, taking out a pack of cigarettes.

"Ah, sometimes."- Hyunjin shrugs and Bennet takes one cig out, putting it between his lips.

"Feel free to take one whenever you want."- he says after lighting it up and putting the pack on the table.

"Okay, thanks."- Hyunjin nods.

"So, you and y/n, huh?"- Bennet lets a puff of smoke out of his mouth.

"I'm not sure what you mean."- Hyunjin is embarassed again, taking another sip of the cold beer and looking everywhere but at the man sitting next to him.

"You'd be a cute couple is all I'm saying."

Bennet smirks and Hyunjin looks at him. He's probably some 5-10 years older than Hyunjin, he can't quite put his finger on his exact age as he observes him.

"Everyone sure know what's going on around the island all the time, hm?"- Hyunjin lets out a laugh.

"It's a small community, what do you expect?"- Bennet laughs too, taking another drag from his cigarette.

"I quite like it here though. The more time I spend here, the more I never want to go back to the city."- Hyunjin confesses.

"Oh, I get that my man. We used to live in the city. It was all too much, I was trying to keep open my father's restaurant that fell into debt because of his poor management decisions and also support my family."

"Sounds like you had a really rough time."

"Oh you have no idea, Hyun. Can I call you Hyun?"

"Sure."- Hyunjin shrugs with a snicker.

"Look, it was really difficult finding out that our kid is deaf, you know? My wife cried so much, I couldn't bear it. I tried calming her down, she was talking about Luna never having a normal life and her fear of our daughter being sad because of her disability and also mocked or excluded by other children. But as it turns out, you can't miss what you never had so Luna has no idea what she's missing and she's such a happy little girl." - he pauses, "Paying off my father's debts and selling the restaurant in the city was my best decision ever. Catherine is originally from the island so she was happy to go back and open up our little restaurant. That's really all I wanted, for my family to be happy. We've never been happier since we came back here."

"How long has it been?"- Hyunjin asks.

"Around 3 years now."

"I'm glad you found your place. The city can swallow you, I know that. And I'm glad your family is happy."

"I think you're a really good guy, Hyun."- Bennet says. "Just listen to your heart, hm?"

"I think I will."- he smiles.

"Atta boy!"- Bennet smacks Hyunjin's shoulder, making him cough a little as he laughs.

"Hey, how about you and y/n come to the restaurant for dinner? It'll be on the house."- Bennet smiles widely.

"I mean... if she's not busy, I'll ask her."

"Mhm, do so. I'll see you later."- Bennet winks as he gets up, grabbing his pack of smokes and leaving Hyunjin with his camera.

He chuckles to himself, shaking his head.

He didn't even crave the cigarette, didn't need it. Even looking at Bennet smoking didn't make him want to fall back into the nasty habit. After all, cigarettes were just a form of escapism to Hyunjin, something to excuse himself with and fiddle with so he doesn't go completely insane.

A dark cloud wraps around Hyunjin's heart as he walks towards your house and thinks about his phone, turned off for weeks already and tucked away into one of the drawers in his room.

Charlie is probably close to sending a search and rescue team for Hyunjin, but he can't bring himself to turn the damn device on and go back to reality.

Maybe he's a fucking coward but he doesn't want to leave this beautiful state of mind and heart, one you helped bring to him.

He stands in front of your door before he knows it and after three knocks, he waits.

"Coming!"- he hears your muffled voice and footsteps coming closer towards him.

The door swings open and your eyes are wide as you hold a towel, probably to dry your damp hair, dressed in an oversized t-shirt and sweats.

Hyunjin's heart beats fast like it's a beast trying to rip out of his chest and leap to you. You look absolutely stunning to him like that and he's sure his legs are made of jelly right now.

"Oh, Hyunjin!"- you look surprised, your eyes darting left and right.

"Sorry to barge in unannounced, but um- I was out and about and ran into Bennet. He graciously offered us to have dinner at his restaurant tonight."- Hyunjin says, beating himself up inside for how stupid he sounds. "It's on the house."

"Oh, yeah, must be because Catherine asked me to babysit Luna tomorrow while they have a short day trip to an island nearby for their anniversary."- unknowingly, you shut down his next sentence, the one where he'd blurt out that it could be a date.

Hyunjin's insides almost burst as he swallows that sentence and buries it deep inside him. It's better that he didn't say anything because he would just embarass himself further and he doesn't want to keep digging that hole.

"Oh yeah, that."- Hyunjin chuckles awkwardly.

"Well, you can come in and wait in the garden while I get ready. I can make you a cup of tea?"- you open the door wider and Hyunjin steps in.

"Sounds good."- he smiles.

"Did you manage to get some rest?"- you ask after putting the kettle on.

"Oh yeah, I took a nap after lunch."- he says.

"Me too. After lunch naps are the best."- you say and Hyunjin smiles.

Fleeting thoughts of the two of you napping together and cuddling, keeping each other safe in one another's embrace, run through Hyunjin's mind.

"They really are."- he agrees.

When the tea is done you hand him a cup with a smile.

"Here."- you say quietly.

You're so pretty. I wanna kiss you.

Hyunjin is so dangerously close to caving into his heart's desire but he doesn't want you to spill the piping hot tea all over yourself.

So he waits in the garden, sitting at the table there and looking at all your flowers as the sun sets. He takes a few pictures and sips on his tea.

You get dressed excitedly, your heart speeding up in your chest at the thought of going to dinner with Hyunjin and getting ready while he's just a few feet away from you.

You put on a simple black dress that's maybe a little too fancy for your liking, usually you go for casual flowy dresses. You feel a bit self-conscious, you don't want it to come across as if you're trying too hard but you also don't want to look too casual.

It feels like tonight might be some kind of turning point for the two of you. You have no idea why, but tingles keep running up and down your spine and it feels poetic. It feels right.

You even put on some light make up and do your hair quickly, not wanting to make Hyunjin wait for too long.

"I'm ready."- you finally walk out to your garden after some breathing exercises to calm your racing heart.

"Great, I was beginning to wond-" -Hyunjin's head whips towards you and his mouth visibly falls open, stopping whatever witty remark he was just about to let out.

Embarassment makes you hot on the inside as he checks you out openly, his eyes roaming all over your figure and your arms come up instinctively to cover yourself.

You know looks that are predatory and hungry, looks that make you feel unsafe, those looks that you were given many times before but Hyunjin... he looks at you differently.

It's like he's fascinated with you, drinking in every single detail that makes you you, his sparkly eyes mapping out every single curve and crease he can find.

"Well, I obviously didn't get the memo for tonight since I look homeless next to you."- Hyunjin says and you burst into laughter.

"You could never look homeless. Even your casual clothes are fancy. And you're wearing your jewelry so it's fine."- you smile, both of your faces red.

"Alright, if you deem this worthy."- he purses his lips, making a displeased face as he pinches his oversized t-shirt between his fingers and waves with it dramatically.

You giggle at him, shaking your head.

"Worthy enough for me."- you say and he smiles sheepishly before the two of you make your way out of your house.

The walk to the restaurant is quick and before you know it, Catherine welcomes you in.

"Oh, we're glad you made it."- she smiles, ushering you in.

There are a few other locals eating dinner on another table, and an older man that lives near Isaac, sitting alone in the corner and watching tv as he sips on his beer.

You take seat on your usual table, right next to the window.

"Where's Luna?"- you ask Catherine.

"Oh, she's sleeping upstairs. Again, I am so very grateful for you taking care of her tomorrow, this'll be the first anniversary that we get to celebrate just the two of us, ever since we came here."- she clasps her hands around yours and beams at you.

Hyunjin leans his chin on his hand and observes you with a small smile on his face.

"It's really no problem, Cath. I'm glad to have a play buddy at my shop tomorrow."- you chuckle. "Plus, the two of you really deserve a nice day off together."

"You're an angel!"- she says and you chuckle, shaking your head. "We prepared our special for the two of you."- she winks. "Let me get some wine for starters."

"Oh, we're really being wined and dined."- Hyunjin giggles, his eyes crinkly, making him look like a cute dumpling, almost like he was edible.

"We are."- you smirk, as Catherine brings a bottle of wine and two glasses to your table.

She even goes as far as to pour it.

"Cath, you really don't have to. I'm not that fancy."- you shake your head, feeling a bit awkward with all the special attention you're getting.

"No, no, you're our special guests tonight and so you should be treated."- she practically twirls and walks away quickly after she's done pouring the wine in your glasses.

"Ooh, special guests."- Hyunjin wiggles his eyebrows at you and you chuckle.

"I'm sure this is nothing new to you, being wined and dined like this."- you say, your fingers resting on your wine glass.

"Actually, it is. I mean, I do go to fancy dinners but it's usually with a bunch of ridiculous older rich men who only talk about nonsense and money."

"No pretty ladies?"- you tease with a smirk.

"Just one, right now."- he smirks back and you freeze.

When did he get so bold?

The question hangs in both of your heads.

Upon seeing your shocked expression, Hyunjin regrets uttering those words.

Did he step over a line? Did he say something wrong? Should he apologize?

"Better one than none."- you quickly retort after gathering your thoughts, not wanting to make things awkward.

"True."- Hyunjin nods with a chuckle. Phew.

Bennet is the one to bring your food, the special being a famous fish that Delmar usually catches and brings to the restaurant, and Bennet uses his father's recipe to make it as tasty as it can be.

Hyunjin eyes it skeptically and you laugh at the face he makes.

"It's really good, I promise."- you say with glee.

"Okay, I'll trust you, y/n."- he says, his face still uncertain.

When he does take the first bite, his eyes become wide and his eyebrows shoot up beneath the bangs framing his face. He looks as if a firework just exploded above his head instead of just one lightbulb as he makes approving, humming noises.

"Good?"- you smirk.

"Amazing!"- he says excitedly and you laugh.

"See, I told you."

"I will never doubt you again."- Hyunjin bows exaggeratedly, making you giggle.

You continue eating and making small talk, as the wine bottle gets emptier and the sky gets darker.

"So, you're babysitting Luna tomorrow?"- Hyunjin asks just as you finish eating.

"Mhm."- you dab your lips with a napkin before putting it down. "I learned sign language so I'm the best candidate."- you chuckle as you take a sip of your wine.

"Oh, that's fascinating! I mean, I saw that you talked to her already, I just didn't know how much you knew."

"Oh, enough to sit down and have a conversation."- you say.

"Hopefully you'll teach me?"- Hyunjin looks at you cutely.

"If you want to learn, of course."- you nod with a smile.

"I do. I could come help you babysit?"- he suggests.

"That'd be fun."- you say just as Catherine appears beside your table to pick up your empty plates.

"How is everything?"- she asks with a suggestive sort of smile.

"It's amazing as always."- you compliment and she looks at Hyunjin.

"Best fish I ever had."- he confirms and she chuckles.

"I'm glad you liked it. I'll bring you dessert in a few minutes."- she winks and you laugh, shaking your head.

"Wow, even dessert."- Hyunjin smiles happily.

"It's probably lemon lime cake. It's really good, too. I mean anything that Bennet and Catherine make is delicious, for real."

"I believe you now."- he says and you giggle.

Catherine does indeed bring her famous lemon lime cake and the two of you enjoy the citrusy treat.

It's almost 11pm when Hyunjin and you finally leave the restaurant, thanking both Bennet and his wife for the wonderful meal.

Hyunjin walks you to your door and you turn towards him. You're not tipsy, but the wine had made you a bit gleeful as you beam at each other.

"So, tomorrow at 8 at your shop?"- he asks.

"You don't have to come that early, you can rest. Just come when it's convenient for you."- you say.

"I want to come early. It's no problem."- I want to spend as much time as I can with you, is what Hyunjin wants to say but doesn't.

"Okay, looking forward then."- you nod and there's a moment of silence as Hyunjin searches your eyes.

This is the part where the lead characters kiss.

Hyunjin swallows, his tongue darting out to lick his lips. Your eyes follow the movement, your lips parting ever so slightly.

Is he leaning in closer?, your heart skips a beat and panic seeps into your stomach.

"Well, good night Hyunjin."- you break the silence and quickly turn around.

"Uh- Have a good night, y/n."- Hyunjin blinks repeatedly as you rush inside, giving him a small sheepish smile before you close the door.

He stands there for a few moments, wondering if he should've leaned in or backed away.

Hyunjin can't sleep that night. Maybe it's because his belly is full or the wine is keeping him awake.

Or maybe it's because he's replaying the whole day in his head over and over again.

Especially the last moment and he blamed himself for hesitating, his mind going so far as to think that was the last chance he'd ever get to kiss you.

Of course, he knows he's being dramatic but the moment was perfect, you were both relaxed after a romantic dinner and you even put on a pretty dress, and he had walked you home.

Why was he acting like a coward with you? Why was it so easy to bring home some random girl he gave no fucks about and sleep with her and with you he couldn't even think of holding your hand without exploding inwardly?

Because you're in love, you idiot.

Is what his inner voice tells him and Hyunjin becomes even more awake after that, tossing and turning until he finally sits up, sketchbook in hand and shapes of you appearing on his paper again.

In your bed, you're no better. You're beating yourself up from running away when Hyunjin was clearly trying to kiss you. Or was he?

Maybe you had imagined it all, and if you would've leaned in you would probably make a fool out of yourself.

Why are you making it so complicated?

Why are you scared?, you ask yourself.

Falling into a whirlwind of your past relationship traumas, you end up sucked in a black hole of bad thoughts, ones that tell you that you're not good enough and you don't deserve this.

Hot tears slide down your cheeks and you barely manage to fall asleep, clutching onto your pillow.

"Here, you can use these, and these too. And some baby breath, okay?"- you put some flowers on the table for Luna to play with.

She looks at you and nods with a smile, her small hands plucking the different flowers and putting them together in a little bouquet as you make one of your own, one that a resident had ordered for the birthday of their husband.

"Good morning!"- you hear Hyunjin, your heartbeat betrays you together with your rosy cheeks as soon as you see him come in with a bright smile on his beautiful face.

"Good morning."- you smile back and Luna looks up after you gently put your hand on her shoulder.

"Good morning, Luna."- Hyunjin waves, leaning down to be in her line of sight.

She giggles sheepishly, kicking her legs under the table and signing a 'good morning'.

"I brought my sketchbook."- Hyunjin says before looking at Luna.

"Can I sit here?"- he asks her carefully, pointing to another chair at the table.

Luna reads his lips and nods quickly, swinging her legs as she puts the flowers together.

You chuckle at them, your heart swells at the sight of Hyunjin being so gentle with her.

Hyunjin takes out his sketchbook and Luna takes interest in it, watching him sketch as she forgets about the flowers before her.

"You're stealing my helper."- you joke.

"My apologies."- Hyunjin smirks and you shake your head with a playful eye-roll.

Luna tugs on your dress and you look at her.

Hyunjin observes as the two of you sign.

"I thought you would teach me."- he pouts when you finish.

"She asked if she could get a paper from you and also draw something."- you say.

"Oh, of course."- Hyunjin nods quickly, taking out a blank paper and giving it to Luna.

He finds another pen and also gives it to her and she smiles.

"Thank you."- she says.

"How to sign 'you're welcome'?"- Hyunjin asks you and you show him.

He repeats it to Luna immediately and she giggles again before turning to the paper.

"I kinda wanna join you but I have to finish this bouquet."- you say and Hyunjin looks up at you with a smile.

"Do you need help?"

"No, it's fine, it's almost finished anyways."

For some time, the three of you are silent, each in your own world before you finish with your flowers.

"Done!"- you announce, before sitting down and leaning your head on your palm.

"You need a paper too?"- Hyunjin asks and Luna looks at the both of you, reading your lips.

"Yeah, sure."- you confirm and he rips another paper out and gives it to you.

Luna signs something to you again and you gasp, both of you giggling as Hyunjin pouts on the side.

"You're excluding me."- he whines.

"This is girl talk, sorry."- you tease.

"Alright, I won't interfere."- he brings his hands up in surrender and you chuckle.

"Oh, hey, we could do that thing where we sketch something and then exchange our drawings and continue on each other's sketches? What do you think?"- you suggest and Hyunjin nods enthusiastically.

"That sounds fun! I've always wanted to try that."- he says.

You explain it to Luna and she loves the idea so the three of you get to it, the sounds of laughter filling up your little flower shop.

You and Luna teach Hyunjin some more sign language, and Luna finds Hyunjin so interesting that she decideds to grab one daisy that she was playing with earlier and put it in his hair.

Hyunjin leans down with a smile to let her do it and she giggles excitedly. He takes two more daisies, first putting one in her hair gently, making her even more giddy. Then he leans towards you and puts the flower in your hair, his fingers smoothing out the hairs behind your ear, fingertips touching your skin ever so gently.

Your whole being vibrates with just the slight touch and the gesture and you involuntarily lean towards his hand, like a flower following the sun and leaning towards it's warmth.

Hyunjin notices but he also notices Luna staring at the two of you so he retracts his hand with a small smile, both of your faces red.

The three drawings are a mish-mash of faces, flowers and scribbles, making for three unique art pieces. Luna takes yours and hers and gives them to Hyunjin, to tuck the ripped and now filled papers back into his sketchbook.

Hyunjin and you help Luna make her bouquet on her request, your fingers touching a few times and it keeps sending shocks of electricity through your body.

"It's so beautiful! Even better than mine."- you smile at her when it's finished, making her giggle.

Since her parents have closed the restaurant for the day, lunch time is scheduled to be at your house.

The three of you make your way there after you lock up, the afternoon sun warming you up on the short walk.

And as you prepare lunch, while Hyunjin plays with Luna in your garden, you can't help but think how domestic it all feels and a wave of excitement rushes through your body, making the hairs on the back of your neck stand.

You dare to wish Hyunjin would stay here forever and be yours. Your chest expands at the thought of that, him being yours, and you being his.

Luna runs into the kitchen, breaking you out of your thoughts and Hyunjin rushes in after her, panting and making a face as he holds onto the kitchen counter.

She giggles and circles the table and you chuckle at them.

"You look like an old man."- you tease him.

"I feel like an old man right now. She gave me a good exercise, hah."- he breathes hard and you smirk.

"Perfect before lunch. When you catch a breath, the two of you can help me set the table."- you say.

"Yes m'am."- Hyunjin nods making you laugh.

When everything is finished and you sit down to eat, Hyunjin compliments your cooking, making you feel giddy to see him genuinely enjoying the food you made.

You take Luna and put her down for a nap before going back to the kitchen, only to find Hyunjin cleaning up.

"You don't have to do that."- you shake your head.

"I want to."- he smiles and you join him, the two of you quickly tidying up the mess that was made.

"I wish I could take a nap too."- you sigh, remembering how you barely slept last night.

"Go take a nap."- Hyunjin says.

"That would be rude."- you smile sheepishly.

"No, it's fine really. I'll just make myself some coffee, sit in your garden and draw if that's okay with you."- he shrugs with a sweet smile.

"I mean, if you're okay with me sleeping while you're here."- you say.

"It's your house, just do as you would if I wasn't here and I'll stay in case Luna wakes up and needs something."- Hyunjin ushers you to your living room.

You make your couch more cozy for a nap, falling into the comfortable blankets and the feeling that today has brought you, and with a smile etched on your face, you slip into dreamland quickly.

Your nap may have been a coma, you didn't even realize how sleepy you were, gasping as you sit up and notice that it's getting darker outside.

You quickly get up, almost falling since you were dizzy and disoriented. You grab onto the couch, trying to come to your senses for a moment before you make your way to the kitchen to drink some water.

"Hyunjin?"- you peek into the garden.

"Oh, hey."- he's there, sitting at the table, still with his sketchbook.

"What time is it?"- you ask confusedly, rubbing your eye and he smiles at you endearingly.

"7pm or so."

"7pm?! Oh my god, Luna-"

"Is home. I took her to the restaurant at 6pm as you said. Bennet and Catherine just arrived then, all refreshed and happy."- he says.

"Oh I am so sorry Hyunjin. You should've woken me up."

"No way."- he shakes his head. "You have nothing to apologize for, you were tired. I didn't want to disturb you plus me and Luna got along just fine."

"You're too sweet, thank you."- you say without thinking, your brain melting at the sight of Hyunjin looking at you so happily, like you're the most fascinating thing he has ever seen, even in your disheveled after nap state.

"It's nothing."- he says shyly, his cheeks red, your comment doing more to his heart that you could ever imagine.

You decide to make some tea for the two of you and when you sit down, Hyunjin shows you his sketches of your garden, Luna and you.

Talking and enjoying each other's company stretches into hours, as you even eat dinner together, both of you not realizing how much time has passed.

Well into the night, the two of you still find topics to talk about and even if you say you don't always believe in destiny, one thing is for certain; you were meant to share this gentle moment with Hyunjin.

You hoped that in every parallel universe, your souls have found each other and became entwined, just like they did in this one.

✨Taglist: @moonchild9350 @janepg @velvetmoonlght @hwanghyunjinismybae @jehhskz @laylasbunbunny @porangporangmeong @jeonginslefthand @sapphirewaves @simpforleeknaur @laughatdanger @lixies-favorite-cookie @linavc @quokkacidal @thisaintredwine @m00gyu @yaorzu-blog @skzfelixlove @tajannah-price1 @puccaaak @aft2rsexs @xxkissesforchanniexx @aprilmaejune77 @lilmeowneow @stayjinnie @astrobebba @danihwang882 @kaysungshine @nchhuhi @1810cl @chartrucewhore @babigriin @jisuperboard @alisonyus @minluvly @instantsoulnight @kkamismom12 @its-stayville-forever @s3ungm1nxxl0ve

[jilyawards]

The Jily Fandom Rec List 2024 is a compilation of Jily stories our readers want to keep an eye on for this year's awards.

SEPTEMBER

all the king's horses, all the king's men (completed, 7.1k) by @jilyss. Rated G.

As queen, Lily Evans faces the suffocating weight of isolation and loneliness that comes with the crown. The only constant in her life is James Potter, her loyal and ever-watchful royal guard.

it's brighter now (WIP, 21.6k as of 30 Sept 2024) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“Oh, come on," James says, grinning. "I know you know who I am.” Something strange flashes across her face. “Is that so?” He drops into the open seat across from her and gestures toward his face, smiling widely. “This doesn’t ring any bells?” “Your…face,” she clarifies slowly.

Raising A Kid With My Ex (completed, 74.5k) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated M.

James Potter and Lily Evans, two Phoenix Radio employees who had secretly admired one another from afar, pretended to be fake exes for their show “Shout Out To My Ex”. When Lily fell pregnant with James’ baby – after a whole lot of drama, disbanding “Shout Out To My Ex” and a breakup – the soon-to-be parents started a new show, named “Knocked Up By My Ex” in which they documented their pregnancy. Now, baby Harry has been born and Lily and James have to learn to navigate the challenges - major highs and some surprising lows - of parenthood together, despite the fact that they haven’t even been together for a year. A whole lot of chaos combined with a whole lot of love makes the perfect recipe for a new show: “Raising A Kid With My Ex”. Their fans’ well-intended advice, of course, might just be the cherry on top (even though some of it is truly completely bonkers). Yet, as James and Lily navigate parenthood together, they have to battle unprecedented forces that are making their journey as new parents a lot more difficult than they had anticipated. A Jily Modern AU inspired by Rachel Lynn Solomon’s “The Ex Talk” and sequel to “Shout Out To My Ex” and “Knocked Up By My Ex”.

crossbow, gun, and magic (and other stories) (oneshot collection, 12.8k as of 30 Sept 2024) by apalapucian. Rated T.

a collection of unrelated stories ft. james, lily, sirius, remus, and (occasionally) peter. so far: i. james, sirius, and lily; modern au ii. in the universe where sirius is the first to know; jily; hogwarts iii. blackevans (old fic rewrite); hogwarts; jily iv. james's last thoughts (old fic rewrite); jily; canon compliant v. order mission at a pureblood party; jily vi. zombie apocalypse au (old fic rewrite); jily vii. lily drunk-proposes to james (tumblr prompt) viii. james gets caught by death eaters (tumblr prompt)

Surface Pressure (completed, 1.3k) by @eastwindmlk. Rated T.

Lily dealing with the weight of her own expectations in 7th year

Partners (completed, 1.3k) by @ohmygodshesinsane. Rated T.

James is the last person Lily expects to visit when she's ill in the Hospital Wing, but the new Head Boy has more than one surprise for her.

Literary Sophistication (completed, 2.5k) by @andromedabooks. Rated G.

A quick Jily bookstore AU from my Tumblr

let me make it up to you (completed, 3.4k) by @kay-elle-cee. Rated E.

Two weeks ago, James left for a mission in the middle of the night without saying a word. Now he's is back, and Lily's not so quick to forgive.

speak now (completed, 1.4k) by @firefeufuego. Rated T.

The fuse has been lit. Lily can almost hear the crackling hiss of it, feel the building burn of it in the air as Sirius takes the reins of the conversation, as drinks are bought and poured down newly dry throats, and eventually as last orders are called and the four of them are standing outside and saying farewell with kisses on cheeks. Sam and Sirius apparate away. Lily and James do not. They stand, eyes fixed firmly on each other, ready to ignite. ‘Not forever, you said?’ James asks, his voice deep and quiet in a way that’s never been hers to hear before now. Follow-up to the lovely kay-elle-cee's 'silence and patience, pining in anticipation'.

crafting chemistry (completed, 4.8k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“Is there something that needs to be discussed between the three of us?” Minerva prompts, her eyes narrowing sharply. Lily’s face betrays her first. A bright flush creeps slowly along her cheeks, blooming from her neck upward, as though her skin can’t hide the emotion simmering underneath. She keeps her eyes stubbornly trained on the far corner of the office, anywhere but James. Minerva notices James’s hand, the one that had been habitually running through his hair, freeze mid-motion, his fingers tightening slightly.

under the influence of loss (completed, 2.1k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated T.

“Like what? You fancy me! Kiss me.” Each time she says it, it’s like a new bruise blooms around his heart, her words pressing on all of them at once. “I can’t!” he shouts, the frustration cracking through. “Because I’ve been drinking?” she demands, a bitter laugh escaping her. “Your chivalry is duly noted, Potter, but I’m giving you a pass here. Just—” “It’s not about that,” he interrupts.

common ground (completed, 3.8k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated G.

Lily pauses, suddenly aware of James’s intense gaze. “What? Why are you…” Heat rushes to her cheeks, and she hates it. “Why are you looking at me like that?” “Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. “It’s just…it’s a good look on you, Evans.” “What is?” she asks, self-consciously. His grin widens. “Mischief.”

sidewalk chalk, covered in snow (completed, 8.7k) by @gigglesandfreckles-hp. Rated G.

She didn’t mean to get used to any of them. [or: Lily Evans is strictly anti-Marauders...until she isn't. one by one.]

Till Death Do Us Part (Let It Be Quick) (WIP, 39.1k as of 30 Sept 2024) by @wearingaberetinparis. Rated M.

“Till death do us part,” she concluded, all air sucked from her lungs. Her fate signed, sealed and delivered. As the priest spoke his final words, she found herself ensnared in her adversary's gaze, trapped by the weight of it, her mouth opening as she spoke under her breath - almost subconsciously: “Let it be quick.” A Jily Arranged Marriage AU in which Lady Lily never imagined she would fall for the husband she was forced to wed. Inspired by My Lady Jane.

Check out the previous months' recs too: January, February, March || April || May || June || July || August

[solselah]

Pick A Movie ? 💛

(Channeled messages are unrelated to plot)

PILE 1 - TOTAL RECALL

You’ve been noticing recently that your lucid dreaming has gotten so real !! I believe you had an idea how this journey was going to go but you got hit with a mini curve ball the last time you attempted to lucid dream !! Your guides are kind of smirking like just ask us to “lead and guide you and so it shall be” they are definitely protecting during this interesting moment of learning how to “get off the ground” it seems like you start to astral project and you maybe get a bit overwhelmed & feel the need to stop & try again ! On the other hand as you’re sleeping the whole time you’re lucid dreaming to these dimensions & meeting people you actually know in that realm ! So In reality your guides want to lead you into conscious Astral travel !!! Being that you unexpectedly lucid dream almost every night !!! I see for some you really do meet up in the astral realm like it’s a game lol , like okay player 1 is here , player two is here we’re ready to GO! I would just be aware of those you travel with if this is what you choose to do ! Make sure you’re truly okay with sharing your energy on that level !

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PILE 2 - MOONLIGHT

I’m hearing you could be a Sagittarius specifically !! If not you have HEAVY Jupiterian energy! The message I’m receiving is that revolving around your self worth & how it’s been at a 0% when it’s literally always been at 100% with you ! I see people around you are concerned and want you to know they care and are here for you , with anything you may need ! For some you’ve just been watching and listening !! For a few you could’ve really had an imbalanced upbringing, I’m seeing that you may have had your parents, which is a positive thing , but they both seem to have “filled the same glass consistently”

meanwhile the other “glasses” (🍷)that were in need of attention remained empty ! So maybe they raised you based off how they were raised or how they simply wanted to. There were usually no input from others , especially family ! They could’ve been so Focused on your goals making sure you don’t make them look any less than they deem themselves to be ! I’m so picking up a mothers energy , she is toxic yall!! And would rather you “raise yourself” than put energy into molding you & raising you with the love that nourishes and not the back handed guilt of love ! Things will be so different when you decide to have kids or even if you do ! You move so different than your family and I commend you for it ! 💙

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PILE 3 - HIDDEN FIGURES

So I see your having doubts about if this person is literally your twin flame like you don’t have any clue about what that even means or looks like for you & your not the type of person to look online and associate your experiences with the next , you need to experience these things for yourself to really solidify it in your eyes ! So you are doubting which is so okay because I do feel it’s a natural reaction to such a powerful dynamic ! Now as far as labeling it as twin flame that part you’re not sure about , like you rarely like saying boyfriend and girlfriend ! You are okay with being Partners or just people who love each other ! You are my pile that moves independent mostly , what you want you really go out there and get it for you ! To make you feel good , to add to the list of your accomplishments! You feel like this

“Twin flame “ thing might take you off your tracks as far as being independent , you’re not really ready for that level of emotion !! You definitely are dealing with someone who is KARMIC to you and is capable of mirroring to you , your faults ! You’re just not ready for that !! I wouldn’t 100% say you have interacted with your twin flame if you even have one ! I just feel like one of you may think that and the other is feeling so off about it. You’re hiding from the things that are triggering you which is so normal but at some point you’ll HAVE to face it !! Take it gently! Never with force ✨

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PILE 4 - BRIDESMAIDS

(Mini 18+ warning )

You’re so not good with rejection of any kind !! lol you can be the type of person who is like go big or go home ! you will literally pay an arm and leg for something you really want !!! You have a very abundant mind set and can actually create and manifest with that gift so amazingly !! You take action you’re not lazy whatsoever , you are a money maker and may even work from home to where you still are in the comfort of your own Space ! The message for you is to maintain this abundant mindset and you never know where you’ll end up in the next 6 years as far as goals are concerned!! Venus is ushering in some good sex for you ! It’s almost like you work with a goddess connected to Venus and you can manifest the person , place & time lol your definitely a Conjurer or a sorceress an empress , you may work with water as well , I’m seeing water offerings !! So you have a deep connection to the element of water. You could be a Pisces I’m feeling that sign heavily! you may also have a Scorpio Venus for some or even a Jupiter in Taurus for others ! You are really so godly ! The shape , the body, the energy its all goals !!! 🔥🔥

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Hope you enjoy 💛

IG: @ soleccentric

[nico-esoterica]

Not sure if this is talked about, but in my personal experience with manifesting, sometimes you're manifesting a mindset shift. It helps align you with what you want and it becomes easier to 'act as if.' Imo, 'acting as if' feels performative for me with certain desires and isn't natural for me to do. With some things, I can do that and it's just a part of my everyday mindset and it doesn't feel fake. Like, I'm going into it knowing that I'm pretending but it doesn't feel like I'm forcing it. In my manifestation journey, I've learned that if I'm forcing a method or perspective, it's not for me and I do what works for me.

I'm a very leisurely person and I don't subscribe to needing to 'act' on anything. I had a gripe w/ the idea of inspired action because of our collective trauma from Capitalism and the 'grind-set' it requires. But with manifestation, I've found that a version/optional route of getting your result involves that..but it doesn't feel like it.

I made a post not too long ago about randomly stumbling upon an opportunity to receive free money for filing for settlement claims on twitter. A few days after that and unrelated to my own research on it, I just so happened to get a document in the mail inviting me into a massive settlement opportunity.. like a perfect synchronicity. It was a big sign for me that all of my money affirmations were snowballing and coming true in real time.

There's stories about just waking up to things. Those are all valid and they happen. You can even decide that's how they show up for you exclusively. But with some things, it shows up as you being inspired to act on something that reflects a recent mental shift you've made. You start seeing yourself and your life differently and you act in accordance to it. You become savvier, more well put together, educated or well informed, and you're thinking and moving as who you've been saying that you are. I'd argue that this is still shifting identities or transforming realities. But it seems more subtle to us when it'll be dramatic to a person who hasn't seen us in 6 months.

If you change your mind about yourself in any way, you've shifted. That means your actions are inspired because you're aligned with the new you. That's still acting as if. I just didn't like how it was communicated and found that it doesn't inherently come in the form as performing or faking it until results occur. Either way, by just changing your mind about who you are and what experiences you want to have, everything will line up for you to reflect that in the most mundane to simply unfathomable ways possible. Online, I feel like this can be accelerated because there's an infinite number of ways for what you're desiring to show up. Or you'll magically find the right rabbit hole or land on the right algorithmic feed to take you there. Every move is the correct one.

Change your mind about your experience, then everything will change. / art credit: girl on the couch by pang xunqin /

[goodnightmemes]

TIKTOK STARTERS PART 8

❛ I think we were a little too Shania Twain about the situation…As in ‘that don’t impress me much’, you know what I’m saying. ❜

❛ Sometimes if you just trust in the universe it will take you to the most unexpected places…LIKE THE I-95! ❜

❛ If you’re wondering what I’m doing here - me too. ❜

❛ If she’s your girl then why is she under my bridge answering my riddles? And you know that she not gonna get any of them right and that means I’m taking her. You’re losing your girl to me, the troll! ❜

❛ Thank god that thing doesn’t have emotions because it would be shitting itself. ❜

❛ I must ask you through my bitter tears though they fall upon the ground, do you think the floral pattern swim trunks or the solid color? ❜

❛ What if that would have happened to me? I’m so glad that happened to you! ❜

❛ The only arresting this guy will be doing is a restin’ on this soft soft bed. ❜

❛ If that makes me filled with misery well then call me Kathy Bates. ❜

❛ Poor guy doesn’t even have a co-host. ❜

❛ This is personal to me because…I lost my brother to podcasting. ❜

❛ That is so unrelated to what I just asked. ❜

❛ Have you ever wondered how many houses in your lifetime you’ve driven by that have people locked up in the basement? ❜

❛ Look what I got for my funeral! A ouija board! That way I can go to the funeral too. I don’t want to miss the party of the year. ❜

❛ You’re the orangest…crap nothing rhymes with orange.  ❜

❛ Life is a journey. Life is a highway, if you will, and I’m hydroplaning violently into the cement divider. ❜

❛ Ever since I started dressing like a mob wife babies have been waving at me a lot more. ❜

❛ Dude, we have so much in common. We both love shapes and chocolate milk. ❜

❛ You just saying that created so much paperwork for me. ❜

❛ That’s basically kidnapping. I mean, some would call it kidnapping. I would also call it kidnapping. ❜

❛ Don’t go around introducing yourself as a rogue criminal, cause now I have to call someone. ❜

❛ I don’t like who I become on Carnival cruises.  ❜

❛ I’m gonna wake up dead because I didn’t pay my dues to the wasps. ❜

❛ You’re going down Tom and Jerry style you fucking muppet. ❜

❛ I may not have a doctor but I have the palette of a little French boy. I’m gonna live forever. ❜

❛ You can’t light a candle when the Devil’s outside! ❜

❛ I don’t respect ghosts. Like what you mean you possessed a child? You could have possessed Patrick Mahomes and played his superbowl but you possessed a child with a peanut allergy?  ❜

❛ That’s why you’re not in heaven, cause you’re kind of a douchebag. ❜

❛ Oohh paranormal activity this, paranormal activity that - get a pair of bitches bro.❜

❛ We’ve only tripped about seven times. That’s barely any. ❜

❛ The Department of Hoes and Insecurity - it’s the thot patrol! ❜

❛ You remember when society peaked and we had Optimus Prime doing a monologue over Linkin Park? Nothing’s been the same ever since. ❜

❛ So the pettiness gods are having their way with me. ❜

❛ I believe in holding grudges. I’ll heal in hell. ❜

[yuurivoice]

Not answering is A-okay with me fyi, but I just wanted to say as someone who struggles, THANK YOU for the sh "content" take. Do some people have good intentions? Sure, I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Do good intentions even begin to scratch the surface of qualifying someone to handle it in a respectful and proper way regardless of personal experience? Nah. Thanks for keeping your space cool and safe, you're a real one.

- appreciative long time follower

I appreciate the message because sometimes I second guess myself like omg is my stance on this too firm? So hearing that I'm making sense to someone is comforting.

If that sort of stuff has helped people, etc, and it never got weird, I'm glad it helped. I wouldn't want to diminish that experience.

At the same time, my exposure to this that radicalized me was when I stopped in on someone's stream to get some insight into a situation (untold years ago) and got some key info that I think set my opinion in stone.

People boasting that they were making content like that for vulnerable people, and that those people "need us", framing the dynamic in the most codependent, unhealthy way you could fathom.

People who had been making this content since they were MINORS, and into young adulthood, who were also at risk themselves at the time.

Financially incentivizing their help with donations and wishlists, leveraging their own struggles and lack to create what I feel is a radically unhealthy relationship between comfort/aid and risky spending.

So yeah. I don't take too kindly to idiots with microphones specifically targeting vulnerable individuals who need a hotline far more than a parasocial hyperfixation.

I don't speak on a whole lot on shit in the ASMR Roleplay slash hobbyist VA space, but that in particular is a rancid corner I stumbled across that I think invites some of the most at risk, vulnerable members of the community to put their wellness in the hands of people who I frankly wouldn't trust to put my fries in the goddamn bag let alone talk to me about the value of my life and why I should stick around.

If I seem harsh, it's because somebody damn well should be. Shit isn't a game.

Anywho......yep. The topic came up recently in private when I was dealing with an unrelated situation, and I remembered this exact thing and how much it bothered me.

I can respect anyone who would like to hear very specific comfort from one of my boys. I don't fault you for that. You know they'd want the best for you. I just don't think I can personally deliver it to you, and they wouldn't want me to, because I can't do nearly enough for you. You deserve better than care being pantomimed and imagined, and no matter how alone you feel, there are people who will fight for you, you gotta go grab them and tell them you need that. And if they fail, you try again, and again.

Me and my content can be a lot of things, and helping soothe aches is a big part of the job, but there are limits. I think there has to be for the safety and peace for everyone involved.

I can't risk putting myself in a spot where someone has to rely on me like that, and I wouldn't want to put them at risk either. Because I can fail. Maybe the words wouldn't be right. Or the tone didn't match their needs. Or it was just too little too late.

For everyone, that's a path we shouldn't go down. But we can still support one another. I think my characters and their stories are filled with messages and purpose for people who are in need, because I've been there. Quite literally, I'm familiar with the territory. So what I've created reflects that journey. It may not be specifically comfort for the thing. But the underlying meaning and purpose is one that speaks to some of those dark places.

Or not. Because it's art. You'll take what you want from it. But you'd probably find it there if you need to.

Anywho. Thanks for the message, Anon. Take care of yourselves, everyone. 💖

[perplexingluciddreams]

A “brief” overview of my communication journey:

My verbal communication was always limited to echolalia and scripts (by scripts, I mean pieces of different echolalia that I stuck together to create a new phrase, or longer several-sentence delayed echolalia. But I didn’t learn to do this until I was at least 9 years old). I also had very limited control over what my mouth said - I would regularly hear my mouth say something I completely disagreed with, then had to watch in panic and confusion as the people around me reacted as if it was something I actually thought.

I used to request things that I didn't even want. "I want..." statements were banned in my house because they were "rude". “I want never gets!” I had stuck as a script for the longest time, even involuntarily saying it when other children said an “I want…” phrase.

I was given examples of how to request things by my parents. I used "I would like...", "Can I have... please", etc. But this didn't give me a reliable way to ask for what I wanted - I could only ask for things I had a script for. So I was limited to a handful of foods and objects that as I grew older, I had less and less interest in.

Saying "please" and "thank you" was drilled into me so much that I would often say it at the end of other unrelated scripts because it got "stuck" there by my mouth, without my permission. I got laughed at for this a lot.

I would say "yes" when I meant no, I couldn't reject things because I didn't have a script for saying "no". And I had been told to be polite so many times that it was a concrete rule in my mind - breaking a rule was worse than anything else. Saying "no" was rude, according to the adults around me - if another child said "no" to something, they were told off by a teacher or their parent. I didn't understand tone of voice so I thought it was the thing they were saying that was wrong.

As I got older, and became more aware that other people seemed to have more control over their voices and could say what they wanted (my general awareness of people and my surroundings definitely played into my struggles with communication, but I won’t elaborate on that here) I would sometimes sit in my bedroom and attempt to read aloud from a book, or write a sentence and read it aloud. To my confusion and upset, it would come out garbled with sounds mixed up, words missing, sometimes no sound coming out of my mouth at all. I couldn't make intelligible speech with my own words AT ALL.

I managed to teach myself to manually make some sounds, mostly vowel sounds, by moving my tongue around whilst making sounds with my vocal cords. But clearly this was not enough for using spontaneous speech as communication. Not to mention, any time I even considered trying to get my OWN words out (with speech, writing - even drawing pictures, signs), all words and scripts I knew just disappeared from my mind.

The only time I could even slightly get my emotions out was through movement - I used to throw myself backwards onto my bed repeatedly, bang my head with my hand, pull my hair, spin around in circles. I now know these would be called "stimming", but at the time I used it more for expressing myself. I also had other repetitive movements that I did almost constantly without even realising what I was doing, but I considered the expressive movement to be a different thing entirely at the time.

It took me years to get my own words out, and that was only once I managed to break down (spoken AND written, and both connected) language into individual words and learn the meanings, then learn to build it back up again. (And, this could only happen after I’d lost most of my out-of-control scripted speech. AAC with symbols helped me break down language in this way, because each word has a separate button and I was forced to learn to form sentences without an already-there structure to fall back on).

In order to do this, first I must take the long string of noises, and break it down into words. Then I must take those words and process the meaning of them individually. The biggest challenge, and the thing that takes the most time, is building the sentence back up.

Words often change meaning when they're strung together, and this is the part where that meaning tends to disintegrate into nothing, for me.

I have to build an abstract "picture" of what the words mean in my head. With very complex language, or a lot of language at once, this can take me hours, days, or even weeks.

Written language is a lot easier to process - firstly, the "string of noises" part is completely eliminated from the equation. Secondly, I see written words as entire shapes. Shapes, symbols or signs connect much more strongly to their meaning, in my head.

I learned to write by hand before I could type, because writing by hand is just copying the shape of a word. I hadn't yet learned to break down a word into it's individual characters and sequence them in the right order, not to mention finding the letters on the keyboard. My spelling has always been fantastic because of my tactile memory for words - and I say tactile instead of visual, because I don't "see" anything in my head, but the shapes of words are something solid that I feel I can touch, hold, grab on to.

But typing was a completely different thing, because even though I could recognise and read words in a typed print, it took longer for me to understand how to put letters together in the correct order to create words using a keyboard. The motor plan for typing was much more difficult for me to learn, but now I have that skill it's invaluable to me in terms of communication.

It took me a little while longer to realise that a keyboard gave me the opportunity to use my own words from my own mind, rather than whatever my mouth (or brain, when writing - I had different written scripts than verbal scripts, though, usually from books) happened to blurt out without my control.

I learned to read very early, but my understanding of language was actually quite poor - separately I could recognise the definition of one word, but when many words are put together I didn't understand the meaning of that sentence or paragraph.

The feeling of being able to put my own thoughts into written words like this, and read them back, is such a rush of power. I can have a concrete, physical impact on the world now that I can use a keyboard and get all the things in my head out there. It becomes real as soon as it's outside of me.

I remember that "comprehension" (answering questions on a written passage - we learned to answer the questions in a certain way, with a “blueprint”) in school really helped me with the breaking down of sentences and rephrasing them. Even though at the time, it just felt like it added to my out-of-control scripted speech, it gave me a skill that has been incredibly useful to me in the long term.

Getting to this point, where I can express myself fluently and eloquently through written language, took so much time and work, and still takes all my energy to write something as long as this. I am so grateful for the genuine communication I have now. It took many sessions, over months, to write this in its entirety. I wrote it in separate chunks, all trying to express similar things, then fitted them together and altered some sentences to make it flow better. (Of course with lots of editing to fix my grammar and my tendency to repeat the same sentence structure over and over - I still use my “blueprints” while writing, it’s the only way I can form complex long sentences like this one).

In order to communicate a memory or past experience in words, I had to have been actively translating (or attempting to translate) my abstract thoughts into language at the time.

If I wasn't or couldn't do this at the time it was happening, those experiences, thoughts, emotions, etc. are almost impossible to describe in language now.

And translating my brain takes so much energy and effort, and relies on me being able to understand what is happening and what I'm thinking and feeling. I more often than not don't comprehend my own mind - if this is the case, then of course I can't explain it to someone else.

It still takes so much time, effort and energy to get my thoughts out like this, and I’m very proud of the progress I’ve made. Even just learning to use Tumblr and posting on here as regularly as I can manage (plus reading other people’s words about similar experiences, or even very different experiences), has increased my ability to express myself and the vocabulary I’m able to access.

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Who's Fault is It, Anyway?

Records of the Torrent Watchers: The Blood Moon Specter, Part 1

Whumptober Day 13 TEAM AS A FAMILY | Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part."

Whumptober Prompts List | Masterpost

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

Next part ->

Fandom: Original Work

Words: 800

Tag List: @fourwingedsnake @whumperofworlds @pigeonwhumps @mr-orion @scaewolf

@the-ellia-west

CW: imprisoned, chained, arguing, swearing, worry, past trauma

A/N: I started a new series. Post Magician's Bait, my vision for Records of the Torrent Watchers is an episodic fantasy mystery series featuring Luc Epsilona, Reese Takari, and Damian Caenum on various adventures up and down the River Torrent.

While investigating a series of murders, the Watchers and their charge are kidnapped for reasons unrelated to their case. Or is it?

----------

“This is all my fault.”

“For the last time, Luc, you had no way of seeing this coming.”

Luc scoffed, the chains binding him to the wall rattling as he shook his head. “I can trace the exact trail of decisions that led to this point. If just one of them were different, we would not be here.”

“Celestials…” Damian groaned, “how many times must I repeat myself before the words get through your skull? You. Didn’t. Know. And even if one of those decisions were different, how do you know we wouldn’t have ended up here anyway?”

“Don’t ask me to see the damned big picture. And don’t you dare say that we are supposed to be here.”

“I wasn’t going to, but now that you mention it—”

“Your Highness, with all due respect, shut the fuck up.”

Damian narrowed his eyes at the Watcher. They were chained to opposite walls in the same cell underneath who-knows-where by who-knows-what. Luc stared at the cuff on his wrist, as if looking at it would force it to unlock, jaw clenched, hands curled into fists.

No matter how much Luc insisted otherwise, their current predicament was not his fault. If anything, it was Damian’s. He'd been the one to insist on accompanying Luc and Reese out of Caenum to investigate a string of murders. He had wanted to step away from city life for a little while, and being with a Watcher and his apprentice-who-insisted-she-was-not-an-apprentice seemed at the time the safest way to do that.

How could they have known they would get kidnapped barely a week into the journey?

“You’re worried about Reese, aren’t you?”

Luc glanced at the cell door, a thick wood slab full of splinters. “They didn’t put her with us,” he muttered, “Why didn’t they put her with us? Are the cells segregated? Is she with other female prisoners? Do they want her for something specific? Celestials, I don’t know what they’re doing with her.”

“You think they know about… y’know….” Damian’s eyes flicked to the cell door, uncertain if anyone was outside listening. If their captors didn’t know about Reese’s heritage, it would be best if they didn’t find out.

“It would explain a lot,” Luc said quietly. He ran a hand through his hair, the chains rattling ominously. “I know some of the people involved were never caught or identified. But as far as I know, we’re nowhere near Zariya. Unless they fled out towards the Torrent when the operation was shut down.”

He hissed through his teeth, eyes on the floor. “I hope they don’t. I really hope they don’t. She doesn’t tell me everything, but from what her father and de Silv said…” the blood suddenly drained from his face. “Oh celesitals… de Silv’s going to kill me if he finds out I let this happen.”

“De Silv?” Damian asked quizzically. The name sounded elven.

“Octavian de Silv. An elf who rescued her five years ago from the people who’d kidnapped her due to…” Luc gestured vaguely, indicating that he also suspected listeners. “He and I have a… complicated history. He had been missing for over a decade when he showed up at my office in Caenum when Reese and her father moved back there. He explained her situation, and asked me to take care of them as a favor.”

“Why couldn’t he do it?”

“Didn’t say. He disappeared shortly after. I haven’t seen or heard of him or his partner, a hunter by the name Draven Cozenson, since.” Luc sighed. “I swore that I’d keep her safe. And I did that by keeping track of her and training her to use that knife of hers. Which led to her following me on investigations, which led to me teaching her forensics due to her asking questions. And now everyone thinks she’s my apprentice.”

Damian raised an eyebrow. “‘Thinks’? So she’s not actually your apprentice? I thought you two were joking about that.”

“Ugh…” Luc slumped, five years of exasperation and exhaustion etched across his face. “Unofficially?”

“What does your own mentor think?” Damian asked, smirking.

“When I figured out what was happening about two years in, I sent him an apology letter for all the stress I put him through. He finds the whole thing hilarious.”

Damian chuckled. “She can handle herself. I’m sure she’s doing just fine. Perhaps she already escaped and is currently looking for us.”

“I wish I could share your optimism.”

“I can be optimistic enough for the both of us.”

Luc exhaled slowly, eyes on the door again. “If you insist.”

[puella-1n-somn10]

🥠PMMM x PKMN AU: Miscellaneous Notes🥠

Sorry, all! No magi/witch analyses are available at the moment! Not only am I still busy, I'm also writing down a separate analysis post that is kinda unrelated to the AU as a whole, and am still gathering up notes and inspiration for Penny's megapost; progress is going slowly, but swimmingly now that I've gotten a clear idea of what I am aiming for in my head. Sincerest apologies for the delay on that aspect ^^;

Though, as a sort of milestone achievement, now that I have over 5k posts on this blog, I've figured that perhaps I could share some of the notes I have on my persons in regards to the development of Hop and Hau's magi and witch form designs, and how they've changed throughout the time in between the conceptualization of their megapost to the final product. I know this isn't enough to properly thanks you all for the support y'all have given me, but, for time being, what better way to immortalize this moment than by sharing the journey we took along the way?

Quite the cheesy way to celebrate such an occasion, I know, I know- but, hey, isn't the process of immortalizing the journey we have taken to reach the point we are at right now just as important as the finish line just before us? The roads we have taken to get so far deserve to be cherished; with these struggles- with the blissful highs and the crushing lows, came the memories we have experienced along the way, all of which possessing flavors that move us all and allow us to carry on to the next day. What, pray tell, would constitute a better way to celebrate such a milestone?

Of course, I'm also open to any and all questions regarding characters that haven't received their own megaposts, since I will also be talking about the possibility of whether certain characters and their cursed forms are going to debut or not. The AU as a whole is still taking shape and form, after all; a lot of things are still not completely set in stone and, as stated earlier, I am open to accepting constructive criticisms and suggestions from y'all.

So, with all that said and done, let us all raise the curtains and take a peak at what went on behind the scenes...

-The Brief, yet Entertaining Development of Hop and Sayf al-Muharib-

Fun fact, I've actually had the barebones concept for his design for quite some time now- anyone who knows me is well aware that I am a sucker for character depth, theories, and, best of all, worldbuilding, and Galar got two out of three points down in my books (if only the worldbuilding was a biiiiiiit better, but oh well; am gonna thank the crunch hours for that fuckup- we do not blame developers for the hubris of their higher-ups in this house). I wanted to show the whole world that Hop was his own character- that any and all comparisons he had with Hau are purely born from simply design similarities and the fans' inability to read and just assume the plot's progression through their desire to just mash A and move with it, and safe to say I think I've gotten the assignment down!

So, starting from the very top; you guys might remember that, way before I began to work on his megapost, I've mentioned that, if Hop ever witched out, he would become "The Gladiator Warlock, whose nature is self-abandonment". Now, you might notice that he's kept his type and some key design elements (the golden calf imagery and how his labyrinth resembles the Roman Colosseum mixed with a football arena), but that his nature is wildly different from that of the final version's. It is also important to note that it sounds a lot like Ophelia's nature, as well- as a matter of fact, his earliest design was inspired by the Wudan Witch more than I'd like to admit. ^^;

After analyzing his character, backstory, and how he began to develop throughout SWSH, though, I slowly began to realize that this term really doesn't ring right with Hop as his own character. After inquiring with a good friend of mine, @bluethepearldiver, they came up with a much better nature for him in all honesty; admiration. It was simple, right there, nailed his motivations to a T, yet I just couldn't see it. It had that riiiiiight amount of dissonance and tragedy that is synonymous with the witches in Madoka, and describes what would bring Hop to his end on fleek! Such a complex character, such a riveting motivation- such an ironic and bittersweet end to the tale of his legend...

Unto the earliest version of his design- it was quite simple, really. For starters, he was supposed to be this...faceless sheep hybrid donning golden armor and is fused to a chariot; what was supposed to be the "horse" is in fact a piece of said chariot and is either seen as an extension of the warlock or something resembling living armor. As for the labyrinth, it was certainly not as dim and oppressive as it is now; just a coliseum arena where his familiars jeer and mock at him, with the main color scheme present being a mix of gold and bits of shining red.

As I said, the Ophelia inspiration was as clear as daytime and I was still in the midst of analyzing Hop as a character, so I had to yeet all that out of the window. I may have kept the themes and design elements associating him with fire as an element and meshed it with metal-working and how swords and shields are forged (hence, him still trying to reforge himself to be in Leon's image), but, in all honesty, I still do like the freakiness of said earlier design itself and am currently regretting scrapping some of the early design details present here and there (him being fused to the chariot especially, reflecting him seeing himself in Leon's light and wanting to be like him), so....who knoooooows...? Maybe a remaster of the OG post is on the horizon? Eh, later- I still need to work on Penny's and [REDACTED], after all.

Flash forwards to when I was finally actually writing down the megapost; it might come across as a surprise, but he actually had a different surname during development; Sayf al-Jundi, which means "The Soldier's Sword". I had the idea of him fighting for Leon's honor and to make him proud of his little brother; how he felt indebted to Lee for raising him and actually giving a shit while his own mother and grandparents couldn't, like it was some finite resource/favor.

After much brainstorming, however, I felt like it didn't "fit" Hop's journey completely, either; boosts his themes of incompetence and being lesser-than, indeed, but it did not reflect Hop's development as his own character outside of Leon's image and his desire for his validation, nor did it..."feel" like a witch's name. After thinking abt it more, I went with a surname that bears the same meaning but has more of a kick to it- al-Muharib, meaning "The Warrior"; boosting the idea of Hop's karmic potential being possibly higher than the MC's and the theme of performances Galar has going on!

As for his familiars- to be frank, they sure did take me some time to develop! At first I just wanted them to be the audience partaking in cheering at the spectacle and ridiculing him, but, as I was looking at gameplay of Pokemon Shield on the side whilst writing down the post, I knew I just HAD to bring in Hop's desire for knowledge, him learning all there is about battles from Lee and his achievements, his destiny to become a professor, and how he's seen as a sort of "know-it-all" by the beginning as he guides us through the game. It was quite tough; trying to balance Hop's traits so that both Sayf and the newly-created familiar would share it equally- but I think I did a decent job at it! While the audience, Al-Dajij, are still here, his little rambunctious archivists, the Abatil, have also stepped in to the spotlight, stole any and all trinkets/records related to Leon, and, with them, they took our hearts! Honestly, when compared to the audience and their warlock, they are just. So, so adorable- just like the Anthonies and Walpurgisnacht's heralds!

Finally- in regards to his labyrinth, it was simple, really; the halls leading up to the arena were, indeed, decrepit and claustrophobic, with traps here and there, but the vibes weren't *there*. Once again, I NEED to thank Blue here, especially with them introducing the video "My House Tour" to me and the idea that there is a nasheed that is constantly playing in the background. With its further development, came Hop's simple origins as a little farm boy who was raised by his brother after almost every other adult failed him; hence the outside of the arena being a rainy farmland with shadowy sheep in the distance and a broken windmill. Ah, once more, the true tragedy of Hop's home and the way he was raised strike once more- dear goodness, it's always the sublime horror that gets to ya...

While he's now looking a little more basic when compared to the witches who have arrived after him, I'm still really proud of how he and his witch card turned out! In fact, I'm happy that I've had so much fun writing all that and analyzing Hop's character- it was quite the writing exercise, I must say! Perhaps, one day, I'll redo the design itself and descent to despair, but the witch card and familiars? I am happy with how they turned out; hate to brag, but I've def cooked there....

...Unlike with a certain SOMEONE-

-The Development Hell that was Hau and Kealamauloa Kinimaka-

This. This has been a conceptual NIGHTMARE. I could have just looked at his base character, his present actions, and just made him a Charlotte clone based on Iki Town and malasadas-

But nope, my stubborn ass just had to dig deep, didn't she? Doesn't help that the G7 anime series is also a piece of comfort media, so I was more than willing to dive in to his depiction there, draw out the similarities and differences, map out the reasons behind these differences, AND went out of my way to constantly update said megapost to add in more details and iron out any typos/unfinished sentences. It was a fun journey, yeah, but, boy, was it a tough one.

Okay, okay, starting from the earliest incarnation and its name, which, I might say, was quite the wild ride; unlike Sayf, who at least had his first name stick around, Hau's witch form had a wildly different name that, honestly, stemmed from a horrible and ignorant idea during the earliest days of development- a decision that, honestly, should have been avoided since day 1-

Initially, I had the idea to give their warlock a name that wouldn't feel too out of place from either Tart Magica and Kazumi Magica respectively; to drive home that, in Alola, witches are seen in a similar lens as we view fae, alongside them being treated as separate forces of nature. A decent concept, that's for sure, but the way I've initially approached it wasn't respectful to the Hawaiian language at all, and I honestly should have at least learned the basics.

The grave mistake?

I tried to use Google Translate to come up with the name.

A silly thing to beat myself up over, I know, but it's also really not; the Hawaiian language is being suppressed by the US with many a native being punished for practicing their right of speaking in their mother tongue, and I tried to use GT, of all things?! That was an idiotic decision; I've made the mental note to never do that again- I promise that!

...Right, the old name; with it, I wanted to capture Hau's themes of duality, the aforementioned desire to portray witches as worldly forces beyond anyone's control, and how his relationship with Kahuna Hala influenced his worldview- so, with both the aforementioned meguca spinoffs in mind, I went with the term "Another Cloudy Day", which GT translated it to "ʻO Kekahi Lā ʻŌpua". Butchered to Hell and back, I am well aware- thank goodness I've noticed the error in that decision and decided not to go with that name just around the time I've decided to write down and finalize the witch card.

After mentally kicking myself for noticing how insensitive that idea was, I've decided to take another route and began looking for some Hawaiian names instead. Fun fact: I've found his surname, Kinimaka, and its associated history long before I've settled on his first; the list of options I had for that, aside from Kealamauloa, consisted of Halani, Kahoku, Kairin, Kalani, Makai, and Akamu.

I was also struggling with which name I should choose for his familiars, as well; all of which fitting the vibes and true threats of the labyrinth itself- Noelani (Heavenly mist), Hoku (Night of the full moon), Inoa (name chant), Māhealani (heavenly haze; full moon night), Miliama (drop of the sea), and, of course, Halia (remembrance of a loved one).

Though I am content with what I chose, maybe I might reuse some of these names for other witches hailing from Alola? Like a certain...trial captain? :3c Reem, stop spoiling your plans again; esp not so early into the development of Penny's megapost-

I should mention that I also had "Kealamauloa Leleo Kinimaka" on the list of options as well, but I've figured that it might have been a bit too disrespectful to the history of Hawai'i and its royal family, so I went with just using the surname instead. Again, I am not at all an expert, nor am I Hawaiian myself; I would really love some corrections on that front especially, and am happy to accept any and all criticisms from Hawaiian folk in regards to this little bugger especially.

As for the design- wait, actually, I wanna talk about his labyrinth first, because I think this was the aspect that went through the most changes throughout development. From the very beginnings, it merely resembled a picturesque city near the beach that appeared frozen in time- literally; the food was always there - prepared and steaming hot -, the sun was setting on the beach before it, and everyone, or whatever you may dub these numerous static "statues" around you, appeared to be having a good time. To represent the unchanging, eternal, yet isolating and fake vibes of the labyrinth, his familiars didn't look like glass hummingbirds at the time- rather, they were old phonographs scattered across the labyrinth. Indeed, it was a picture-perfect image of the world at its most peaceful...

That is, until you knock one of these statues onto the floor, and it is apparent from the frozen blocks on meat and speckles of blood that these were the warlock's victims; their joy and whimsy now immortalized as they act as the backdrops made to lull the labyrinth's newcomers into a sense of security. Serving as a chilling reminder that, even if this warlock was once Hau, he's still a manifestation of his own curses and despair- on top of it being a bittersweet reference to the photo the MC takes with him and Lillie.

As terrifying as this concept sounded, it also felt...dull- like, what was the warlock even doing in this labyrinth save for flying around? It was his familiars' duty to freeze his visitors, and all he did was watch? It didn't feel like Hau, and went against his free, easygoing nature. Yes, it did symbolize his weaknesses in the SM games - that being him only able to watch the disasters around him and was unable to stop them himself -, but I wanted to add in something, anything, so that the labyrinth wouldn't feel as hollow as it did.

Another concept for the labyrinth was that it consisted of dingy-old subway tunnels and stations, with advert screens and worn-away posters showcasing a tropical paradise for all to visit. Alas, all one is able to hear through these walls are the pitter-patters of afternoon rain. The warlock would be at the center, either locked in his own small aquarium within a dark room or is patrolling the dingy ol' city outside the labyrinth halls now that he's sealed his victims within the street lights. I might revisit this concept and turn it into Guzma's? Or even Gladion's? Who knows?

Here's where touching grass did me a lot of favors; it was the dawn of Summer here in Jordan at the time, so, after strolling outdoors for a bit and taking in the fresh warm air, I began to rework the vibes of his labyrinth from the ground up. Taking the initial concept and Anemonether's witch card she made for him into account, I've multiplied the ethereal factor by tenfold while also giving the barrier an illusion of liveliness and freedom; Hau's bright-eyed approach to the world is now a cage for his warlock's victims, just like how Hala had tried to keep him sheltered away from his own anger and how disappointing reality can be. Again, I really went all-out with this kiddo's design and labyrinth, and I'm glad with how they turned out!

NOW back to the warlock himself- I am going to be real, I was actually winging it as I went! Unlike Sayf and (Penny's witch), who had basic yet solid concepts to use as bases for what was to come, all that I had for Kealamauloa were three things: Turtle, Dragon, and Flowers. This is where I have to return to that moment where I touched grass because, and I shit you all not, I was also listening to some Pokemon OST at the time- and one of the songs that popped up? None other than the battle theme against the Tapus.

It was then that I had a sort of epiphany- I totally forgot to integrate Hau's culture and status as the Kahuna's grandson into it! A vivid image of the tapus' respective ruins hit me like a well-deserved smack to the back of my head for my idiocy; so I went with a turtle dragon with flora growing from his body, one that appears as though it is a part of these divine sanctuaries- and it was all history from there as I continued on with my research on Hawaiian symbology and beliefs. Honestly, scrolling through all these sources relating to said symbology is quite fun- and I might keep them in mind once I start analyzing yet another character who's native from Alola and bring their despair to life!

Again, this was a nightmare. Did I enjoy dissecting Hau as a character and was genuinely shocked by how deep he and his character development are? Absolutely. Would I subject myself to this torture once more? Fuck no. Nonetheless, I am very happy with how he and the warlock turned out; I could absolutely see him being a MagiReco unit with Kea as either a doppel or a boss thanks to the amount of detailed I've poured into the design!

-Where We are Going from Here-

As of right now, as I've already stated, I already am compiling various notes needed to get a headstart on Penny's megapost; Scarlet and Violet, dear God- I really want to give the story justice, moreso than I did for Alola, and we all know how much the G7 games mean to me. I have my gripes in regards to G9's graphics, indeed, but they've knocked it out of the park with just about everything Paldea else had to offer. Frankly, I am going to blame the drive for them to be more like "Breath of the Wild" and the backlash from G8 causing them to rehaul every God damn pokemon model from the ground up- all while their shit CEOs refuse to give them more time, but that's another rant for another day. Every day, I am reminded of how Game Freak is repeating Sonic Team's history; I have nothing but pity for the both of them honestly, and anyone who tries to tell me that "umm aktchually, they're just lazy-" is getting the hard block.

In regards to Penny herself, well, her witch's name and the "first form" I've created rn are highly subject to change, while her labyrinth is a huge WIP. Do not get me started on her Descent to Despair; I have no idea how this shit is gonna go down, though I do have my ideas. Afterwards, who knows? Maybe I'll work on Kiki's next, since the name and nature are finalized, or even go for the home run and work on [SPOILER]'s! It honestly depends on what I'm feeling at that moment, so expect the unexpected- ooooOOOOOOOooooOOOOO~

I might work on more Pokemon characters later on in the future? But, considering the amount of time each post takes, I am asking of you all to please, please be patient! I've just fixed up most of the errors in the Hau post and am trying to boost what I've written so far throughout other circles, so this takes time ;0; Plus, I still have uni to attend to- fun times for everyone. /s

Now, to close this post on a high note, I, once again, cannot emphasize how much you guys have helped save my ass with these-

@bluethepearldiver

@superstaridolstart

@anemonether

@gummybonebanes

@deepseazombie

@eggchjf

@sweetpie2612

And to all who took the time outta their lives to read my insane ramblings- thank you all so much from the bottom of my heart! Genuinely, without each and every one of you guys, I wouldn't have pulled through with all these! I promise I will do my best for y'all!

And to those reading, I highly recommend reading through PokeManiacal's blog posts that talk about the characters of Pokemon, how they are affected by the narrative, and vice-versa, as well as the Judgemental Critter's own video essays surrounding the witches from Madoka Magica; it is thanks to their respective works that I've managed to capture the characters' true depths and what goes on during the design process of a witch.

So, with all that being said, I just have to thank you all once more- from the very pits and the deepest trenches of my heart, thank you all so much! For the support, for the resources, for hearing me ramble on for days or even months on end- thank you, thank you!! I cannot emphasize how much I hold you all dear- oh my god ;0; Please, to those reading this post, it'd be best if you poured your support to those mentioned- frankly, they deserve most of the praise ;w;

Once again, I must praise you all for the support you have all granted me, and bow; it was a wild ride, but I'm happy that we've gone so far. Thank you all for everything, darlings- may all your journeys be blessed by the deities you all hold dear, if any, and for the fame and glory you all deserve arrive your way. Truly, I am indebted to you all.

Thank you all- have a good night, and I bid you all Alola!

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Degustatión

Hannibal Lecter x Will Graham x Fem!Reader

Also on AO3

Summary: You, an aspiring food critic, are introduced to Doctor Hannibal Lecter by one of your professors. The two of you bond over good food and perhaps... a mutual attraction. Then, Will Graham -- Hannibal's closest friend and confidant -- is added into the equation and things get a lot more complicated... but let's be honest, a whole lot more interesting as well.

Word Count: 4,464 words.

Warnings: SMUT! (18+ only, minors dni), p in v, light knife play, oral sex (f & m), threesome, lmk if there's anything I missed!

A/N: Yep, not much plot, we are going straight to it. We all know what we came here for right? HEAVY ON THE SELF-INDULGENCE

———

The night air was crisp and cool, seeping all the way to your bones despite the layers you wore. Fall was coming to a close and winter was quickly approaching, icy claws bared. You stared up at the house – his house – admiring the impeccable but austere architecture. It reminded you of a more modern sort of palace and, my word, was it fitting of the man you came to see.

As you locked your car and began slowly walking up the driveway, you shivered, but it had nothing to do with the temperature.

This wouldn’t be the first time you’d dine with Doctor Hannibal Lecter, the most refined palate in all of Baltimore. In fact, the first time you met him – a favor from your creative writing professor, who knew of your dream of becoming a food critic – he’d taken you out to dinner. He was always happy to meet people who loved food as much as he did.

It’d been at a fancy restaurant, glittering diamonds and expensive perfume and the cold sneers of the wealthy surrounding you. It was way out of your budget, to say the least. But you hadn’t been surprised at his choice; he was a little eccentric, after all.

You’d felt bad, but he’d insisted on taking care of the bill, so long as you gave your honest opinion on the dishes he ordered for you to try. You were definitely not a picky eater, but you’d been a bit hesitant to relent all of your control. In the end, your own promise to give everything a chance at least once convinced you.

And boy, did Hannibal know how to eat. Not that you thought all word about him was a rumor, but you simply had not known the depths of their truth.

In just that first meeting, he expanded your palate considerably, presenting you with things you’d never even thought of. Perhaps not to the level he was on, but it still felt like a whole new world was yawning open for you to explore.

Sometimes you still dreamed of the lingering umami of caviar, the richness of a good Malbec wine, the sweet and creamy croquembouche he’d fed you spoonfuls of for dessert.

But you had felt a little embarrassed afterward, like you’d been a mere imposter before that night. What the hell had you even known about food?

You had a couple of exotic meals under your belt, but you were only truly starting your career journey, and money wasn’t always permitting.

On the other hand, you’d also felt slightly reassured by the way he watched you, appraising and unrelenting, with a certain curiosity that made you feel completely exposed. He had delighted in your deep hums of approval, the soft glaze of bliss in your eyes. He hung onto your every word as you described flavors, textures, scents. He’d smirked slightly throughout the entire ordeal, hazel eyes shining with amusement, and you found yourself squirming slightly in your seat.

He hadn’t failed to notice that either. In fact, unbeknownst to you, he had a very keen sense of smell, and he seemed to get hooked on yours.

So yes, you had bonded over food, and every subsequent meeting had brought something new and positively groundbreaking. The way he could make you experience such wonders seemed to entice him to continue seeing you, and you certainly were happy to oblige.

But tonight was different in more than one way. He’d bestowed upon you the great honor of inviting you to one of his famous dinner parties, to finally get a taste of his cooking. The idea of eating something put together by his hands – so elegant, with such long fingers, like a pianist’s – felt incredibly intimate, but also monumental. It was anticipation that had you quivering, your whole body tight and seemingly buzzing with electricity.

Especially as you heard a car door shut behind you. Ah, there was the other reason you were so anxious. You whirled around to face him and his steps slowed as he found himself pinned under your gaze.

Not necessarily a rival, but someone who definitely seemed to want to compete with you for Doctor Lecter’s attention. In his own subtle way, of course.

You had heard the name Will Graham a couple of times in your meetings with Hannibal and it was very apparent that they were close. Very close.

When you two had finally been introduced, you did not know what to make of one another. Will was tense and awkward for the most part, avoiding eye contact as much as he could. He was definitely more reserved, letting you and Hannibal do most of the talking, but chiming in with dry remarks whenever he thought it was necessary.

But he also seemed intrigued by you, often looking at you at least from the corner of his eye, like he wanted to see for himself what your appeal to Hannibal was. Not many got close to the Doctor, it seemed, even as popular as he was.

Will studied you in return and smiled almost imperceptibly. It felt like a truce, which you readily accepted.

“What a coincidence,” he said. “We’re both so punctual.”

“Anything else would be rude.” You said, your tone light, even if you firmly believed it to be true. Especially when it came to Hannibal.

He stepped toward you, offering you his arm. “Shall we?”

You linked your arm with his, immediately getting a whiff of his strong aftershave. You understood why Hannibal hated it, but you didn’t voice your opinions. You wished you could smell his more natural scent – pine needles and petrichor and musk – as it fit him much better. It made you want to bury your face in the crook of his neck, fingers intertwined with the curls at his nape.

Perhaps he also did not know what to do with the fact you seemed to be drawn to him as well. It was that quiet, mysterious air about him, always assessing, poised to strike. In a way, he sort of reminded you of Hannibal, though not quite as eased into that darker, more primal nature.

You waited as Will rang the doorbell, arm still holding yours. You weren’t sure if he was leading you, or if he had captured you, not letting you escape. The idea of either was titillating, though it wasn’t like you wanted to leave.

Then, the door opened and there he was, that familiar smirk already on his handsome face.

“Well, well,” Hannibal said. “It’s a pleasure to see you both. Please, come in.”

As you stepped over the threshold, Will took the bottle of wine you brought – a Shiraz, which you remembered Hannibal mentioned liking – as Dr. Lecter stepped behind you.

“May I?” He asked, referring to your coat.

You nodded and his hands slid over your shoulders lightly as you shrugged your coat off. His fingers were warm, almost teasing, and you momentarily wondered how they’d feel on your exposed flesh.

Hannibal inhaled deeply, scenting your perfume – Amber, smoky cedar, bergamot – and that chemical change in your sweat at his nearness.

“Your home is so lovely.” You breathed, taking in your surroundings-- The pastoral art on the walls, the dark glaze of the hardwood floors, the almost surgical cleanliness. It was all just so him. “Thank you for inviting me.”

Hannibal nodded in appreciation, leading you both to the dining room. Will, who was at your side, leaned in close to your ear. “Be careful not to let your jaw fully unhinge, it’s bad for the muscle.”

You scoffed, half amused and half offended. Was he accusing you of being a brown-noser, or did he dislike simply dislike you currying Hannibal’s favor?

“We don’t have to do this, you know,” You said, your voice a husky whisper. “We were playing nice just now. Though I have to say, I do like that little fire of yours. It tells me you can still burn, if you so want.”

Will said nothing, and you knew that in some way, you got to him. Yes, you’d had just a little bit of liquid courage before you got here, but just enough to warm the blood; If only so they might not confuse you for a trembling fawn, surrendering to its fate. It had certainly loosened your tongue a little, letting your desires slip through.

As Hannibal pulled your chair out for you, his smirk grew a little as he sensed the sudden tension between you and his coveted Will Graham. Oh, things were already getting so interesting.

Hannibal poured three glasses of the wine you brought, reaching over to squeeze your hand upon reading the label. You felt a swell of pride in your chest, hid it behind a demure smile. He eyed the column of your throat as you swallowed your wine.

“Forgive my forwardness,” Hannibal said, setting his glass down. “But I must say, you look quite… delectable tonight. Did you go through all that trouble just for me?”

“Doctor Lecter–” You breathed a small, shy laugh, cheeks flushed.

“Careful, Hannibal.” Will cut in, looking right at you. “She might put your dinner to shame.”

“No, I don’t believe she would.” Hannibal leaned forward slightly. “In fact, I have some slightly regretful news. I apologize for waiting until now to bring this up, but I thought we could have a different approach to tonight’s dinner.”

You tilted your head to one side, just now realizing that there were no enticing scents of a cooked meal. You’d been so occupied with his presence to notice. Disappointment curled in your stomach, but his tone made you straighten your spine.

“Oh?” You prompted, suddenly very curious.

“In the continued pursuit of new experiences for you, I was wondering… How would you like to be tasted?”

There was a moment of silence in which you didn’t even move, unsure if you were dreaming or he’d actually just said those words. Oh, what cruel torture it would be, if it turned out to be the former.

But then he went on. “Will and I spoke of it. He was the one to suggest the idea, actually.”

Your eyes immediately drifted to Will Graham, who was looking intently at Hannibal’s profile. That was a time he decided to stay quiet, but you didn’t fail to notice how his Adam’s appled bobbed with a hard swallow.

“Did he now?” Your voice dropped to a near whisper, sultry, coaxing. “And did Mister Graham go into the specifics of how this would go about?”

“Well if I did or not, wouldn’t it be better for you to find out?” Will said, terse, as if he could still not admit his desires to himself. Like he was ashamed of wanting something to keenly. “Or did you want me to tell you?”

You held his gaze for a moment, shaking your head almost imperceptibly.

But then, looking at both men, a sort of awareness made your skin tingle. A field mouse between two mighty serpents, not fully concealed in the tall grass. You wondered how their fangs might feel as they sunk into you, how their venom must sting.

Well, you did say you would try anything at least once, didn’t you?

You cleared your throat, crossing your legs. “Will anyone else be joining us for dinner?”

Hannibal arched a light brow, just as Will finally looked at you, a little taken aback. To Hannibal, this wasn’t so much of a revelation, but more of a confirmation. You secretly loved the theatricality, the rapturous looks of spectators. Most of all, you loved when the spotlight was on you, baring everything – your soul included – for examination. It was what drew him most to you.

Perhaps eventually, but that night…

“No, just us.” Hannibal said finally. “Only with your consent, of course. I do not want to make assumptions. It was just a thought, a mere… unbecoming desire.”

“Perhaps it is mutual.” You admitted, breathless. “We are only made of flesh and fault, after all.”

“Yes, and how tender seems the flesh.” He trailed a finger lightly down your arm, and goosebumps followed in its wake.

Hannibal’s easy smirk returned as you squirmed, thighs rubbing against each other, heat pooling in your stomach and even lower. Will adjusted in his seat, clearing his throat, swallowing hard once again.

You wondered what it would be like to see him break; to see him without restraints, free, surrendered to his basest instincts. You wondered if Hannibal had seen him that way, and if he was just about to share that with you. Or do the same to you.

You weren’t sure which you wanted more, but you were sure you would lose your head if you got neither. Were you beneath begging? It was yet to be seen…

You worried your bottom lip with your teeth, unsure of how to proceed. “What do you need me to do?”

“Nothing, dearest. Leave it to me – to us. You’ll be in very good hands.”

That sultry promise in his words – purred to you in a way only he seemed to know how – melted you completely. You had never believed in anything more.

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

The first slow lick of your open mouth had your breath catching, but you couldn’t do much more than close your eyes. Hannibal held your face with one hand, and you were sure it was the only thing grounding you to the Earth; tethering you to your own body.

But then his tongue dragged over yours a second time, and a soft mewl escaped you, your head spinning.

“I’m not sure which I like more,” Hannibal said, voice husky. “Those sounds you make, or the taste of good wine on your tongue.”

The three of you had moved to the kitchen, with you sitting on the dark granite island. The kitchen was opulent and in pristine condition, though there were small details that showed it was well lived in. Out of all the rooms in the house, you knew this was where Hannibal spent most of his time.

Not that you were really paying much attention to your surroundings at that very moment.

“I think you’ve rendered her speechless.” Will commented, an edge of amusement in his voice.

Your eyes fluttered open just barely as Hannibal chuckled. “And we’re barely getting started.”

He slowly trailed the back of his hand down the sleeve of your blouse. “I don’t think we’re going to be needing this, do you?’’

Hannibal took a step back, fingers pensively dancing over the handles of the knives that were stored in a polished wooden block. You immediately moved to start unbuttoning your silk blouse, hands shaking.

But Will, in a sudden act of confidence, stepped forward, between your legs.

“Allow me.” He murmured, eyes downcast.

You watched him closely, how his patient hands slowly finished undoing all the buttons. Your chest heaved as he gently pushed it off your shoulders, pooling at your back. He gazed intently at the lacy bralette you wore, barely concealing anything. Your nipples were two hard peaks that pressed against the thin fabric, demanding attention.

But he did not give it to you. At least, not yet.

Then, Will and Hannibal switched places, your eyes closely trailing the glint of the chef knife’s edge. Your pulse began racing, both in exhilaration and a slight tinge of fear.

Hannibal took a moment to look at you, his hand coming to rest on the flat expanse on your stomach. His hand inches upwards, fingers just barely grazing the soft underwire of your bralette.

“Let’s see what we’re working with here, shall we?” He purred, holding your gaze. “Lean back for me, sweetness.”

You oblige without a doubt. In the next moment, his finger curls, pulling the underwire forward, the knife following close behind. You gasped and in a quick, expert slash, the measly excuse for a cover falls apart, baring your breasts. Your back arched instinctively, attempting to get closer to him.

Hannibal hummed in approval, his smirk positively devious. “Take a gander, Will.”

He trailed the flat part of the knife — featherlight, barely a whisper – down your sternum, through the valley between your breasts. You dared not move this time, not wanting to distract him from this deliciously slow torture. You kept expecting even the slightest nick of the blade, and that fearful anticipation made you even more aroused.

“I must say, I’m not quite sure where to start. Such softness… Such supple skin.” Hannibal mused. The tip of the knife stopped at the hem of your skirt, and he tilted his head to the side with the curiosity of a predator sizing up its’ meal. “We should free you of this too, hm?”

“Yes.” You breathed.

Will tsked in disapproval. “Don’t forget your manners, now.”

Your eyes were drawn to him, your pupils blown wide with desire, the darkness swallowing your iris. You briefly wondered if they could hear the jackhammer pace of your heart; Like a war drum against your ribcage.

“Please.” You added, just as low, your voice somewhere out of reach.

The knife retracted and Hannibal offered you a hand so you could stand up. As soon as you did, he pressed you against him, your bare chest against his woefully clothed one. Will came up behind you, intent on unzipping your skirt, but you stopped him with the arch of your back, pressing your ass against his crotch.

He sucked an audible breath through his teeth, a groan threatening to escape his throat. Hannibal chuckled as Will gripped your hands behind your back with one hand and finally undid your skirt. Roughly, he pulled it off of you, stepping back as Hannibal quickly spun you around to face him.

You gripped Will’s arms tightly as his lips captured yours in a ferocious kiss. He held you up as Hannibal ripped your stockings apart – both with the knife and his hands – jostling you a little against Will. You couldn’t help but moan into his mouth as your panties fell to the same fate.

When you broke the kiss – an obscene string of saliva still connecting your lips – you looked into his eyes, breath catching at the intensity of them; Like a pure and holy – or perhaps unholy? – blue flame. He was getting more and more beautiful by the minute, unraveling before your eyes.

You felt Hannibal’s finger trail up your inner thigh, capturing your wetness. “What a delightful mess you’ve made.”

You squirmed in Will’s embrace, slightly embarrassed at his discovery. How were you so wet already?

Actually, you knew the answer to that question.

Hannibal’s fingers trailed further up, precariously close to that aching spot you really wanted him to touch. But he stopped, almost expectant.

“What do we say?” Will said, voice dangerously low.

“T-thank you.” You gasped as Hannibal grazed his teeth against your inner thigh, chasing away the sharp sting with his tongue.

Involuntarily, you pushed your hips back, closer to his face. You heard Will’s belt clink slightly as he undid it, along with his trousers. You reached down, wanting to touch him, to savor him too, but he only smirked devilishly.

“Greedy thing, isn’t she?” Will purred, taking a hold of your hand to stop you.

“So it seems.” Hannibal said, standing up. “But with such delectable honey, how can we deny her?”

From behind you, he stretched his hand out towards Will, offering his fingers slick with your arousal. Without a second thought, Will leaned forward and captured his fingers in his mouth, tongue wrapping around his digits.

And that taste of you, saccharine on his tongue, sticking to his palate in all its glory, snapped something in him. He let out a low growl and pushed your hand away, his trousers and boxers soon falling to the floor in a heap.

Hannibal crouched once more behind you as Will pulled you forward, your eyes widening and mouth watering. At the same time that Hannibal buried his face in your cunt, you grasped Will’s erection, a glistening bead of precum on the tip.

Will leaned back against the kitchen island and you bent lower, sticking your tongue out and lapping up the precum. The taste of him was a bit sharp, but not unpleasant; salty and slightly musky. You hummed in approval, giving the underside of the head a teasing lick. His hand buried in your hair, guiding your head gently.

As you took him in your mouth, you moaned around his length. Hannibal was licking you in long, languid strokes, hands spreading you further open. Your legs twitched, but you were too wrapped up in the feel of Will’s cock sliding over your tongue. He shuttled it in and out slowly, reaching a little further every time. You hummed your pleasure continuously, the vibration of it adding to his own pleasure.

Will’s hips bucked and he grunted, eyes screwed shut and head thrown back in ecstasy. Then behind you, Hannibal picked up the pace, his tongue circling your clit as he inserted a finger into your cunt. Your whole body tensed, the movements of your head momentarily halting, and Will snapped to attention.

“Don��t make her come yet.” He snarled, a startling possessive edge to his tone.

Much to your chagrin, Hannibal acquiesced, pulling back, though his finger was still pumping in and out of you at a much slower pace. With a loud pop, you released his cock, drool sloppily dripping down your chin.

“Apologies, I got too carried away.” Hannibal panted, sounding quite smug at how he got you dripping for him. “I’ve seldom tasted something quite so divine. Sweet ambrosia, a feast worthy of the Gods.”

He withdrew completely, pulling you up with him. One hand came up to grip your neck just tight enough to keep you pinned; The other came up to palm your breast, thumb teasing your nipple. You growled in frustration, wiggling your hips.

“What’s that now?” Will taunted, stroking his length slowly – flicking his wrist just so… oh sweet torture! – his breath ragged. “Didn’t we agree to play nice earlier?”

“Oh, she’s being nice. Aren’t you, sweetness?” Hannibal purred, tilting your head to the side to meet his gaze. He looked much like you, lower half of his face glistening with an artful mess of your own creation. “Perhaps she deserves a taste.”

And he kissed you, tongue immediately parting your lips and tangling with your own. You tasted yourself on his lips, mixed in with his saliva, and it had an almost narcotic effect on you. Warmth spread throughout you, oblivion just at your fingertips. You were simply, utterly hooked.

He pulled away to toss his jacket to the side and then bound your hands behind your back with his tie. You heard him undo his trousers and you suppressed a shiver of anticipation. You kept your eyes on Will, the steady rhythm of his hand stroking himself hypnotizing you.

Then, you felt Hannibal’s cock line up with your entrance, the head of it barely slipping in. His low groan was in your ear and he dipped his head to nip your shoulder. You held your breath, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he plunged further into you, making sure you felt every inch.

When he was fully sheathed in you – your head swimming and barely able to tell where he ended and you began – your mouth slackened in pure, unadultered ecstasy.

“How angelic,” Will breahted, awed. “Look at the rapture in her eyes, gazing directly into Heaven.”

“How lucky… she had us to show her.” Hannibal panted.

Hannibal fucked you with a near surgical precision, his thrusts deep and unrelenting, knowing exactly what spots to hit to make you cry out. In fact, he guided himself by the sounds you made, adjusting quickly to whatever seemed to make you respond the most. His hand snaked down to your clit, stroking in time with his thrusts.

And he had to admit, you really did look like an angel in that moment, rosy cheeked, eyelashes thick with tears of overstimulation. Those undignified moans of yours were like a melody he would remember for days to come.

By the tight clench of your cunt, he knew you were right there, but as much as he wanted you to come all over his cock – anointing him with your cream, forever marking him – he knew he’d already been quite greedy with you. He wanted Will to have it; A gift to him.

The swap was almost seamless; one moment you were achingly empty, ready to claw the walls if you didn’t get your release soon. But then you were bent over the kitchen island, legs kicked apart, and Will filled you up in a single thrust.

The way he fucked you was wholly different. Will was more frantic, almost feral, all bared teeth and low growling. His hips slapped against yours loudly, his thrusts quick and almost punishing.

Your body was pure fire, a pillar of all consuming flame. You worried you would slip through their fingers if you weren’t held together tight enough.

Hannibal watched through the whole ordeal, stroking himself, though a part of you wished you could be doing it for him.

And suddenly, with a slight tilt of his hips, Will hit a certain spot inside of you that finally unraveled that tight coil in your stomach. With a keening wail, you stumbled into oblivion, shooting stars streaking in the darkness your eyelids.

Will was right there with you, the tight clench your cunt milking out his pleasure. He painted his design inside you, a messy, unabashed masterpiece.

After a couple more heartbeats, in which you listened to his grunts and ragged breathing, he pulled out of you, sticky warmth trickling down your inner thigh.

Hannibal undid the tie holding your hands, massaging your arms gently and kissing down your spine. He’d already cleaned himself of his own release, now intent on taking care of you. He turned you around and embraced you, wiping your damp hair away from your forehead.

You sagged against him, smiling beatifically, breathing heavily still. Your body still responded to his touch, but you were exhausted.

Will soon returned, already clean himself, with a soft towel in hand. He kneeled in front of you and cleaned you with the utmost care. Both of them looked at you reverently, like someone to worship.

“Well, out of all our times dining together, I have to say… this has been my favorite.” You sighed dreamily, voice still tremulous.

Hannibal chuckled. “Trust me, sweet angel, this won’t be the only time.”

And you were more than okay with that promise.

———