#v; resurrected sun

[symphonicsoul]

⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◯☾₊‧⁺˖⋆He doesn't know what to say to the others words even as he turns and red meets green.

"I don't need your protection Pikkuveli."

It would be just like Usva to declare such a thing in the face of someone like the Demon Gunman. It would be just like his brother to decide such a thing when he doesn't have a clue.

They told him Usva was dead. They told him that he'd been killed in battle on the second day of the fall. Safiirin right along with him. Knight falling at her Charge's side. He can still remember the sound that left Opettaja Sinfonia when the crystal pendant of his necklace cracked clean in half.

He will never forget the way that man screamed.

They told him Usva was dead but yet here he stood before him with the flare sword in hand, ready to take down the Windarian threat if the man somehow managed to find a way out of his Mist built prison but for some strange reason Black Wind doesn't move. Even as he turns to look over his shoulder at the man of the Magun - the gunman remains as still as he ever was.

There is no yelling and there is declarations of how he will put the Snow White Swordsman in the ground if its the last thing he ever does. No, instead Black Wind reminds oddly still and he doesn't know how to process - but it can all wait for another time because Usva is alive and he needs to know how because he saw Opettaja Sinfonia's bind snap with his own eyes.

"Maybe not, but how is this even possible, Isoveli?"

A snarl and the flare sword is being lifted to point directly at him level with his own throat.

"It doesn't matter how it's possible. All that matters is I was resurrected so we could finish our fight and this time you won't squirm out of it."

Fight? What in the world is he talking about? This can't be right. There needs to be something else going on here and something in the back of his mind is screaming foul play but he knows Usva won't give him a real answer to how this was at all possible even if he asks for it.

Never has his brother turned the flare sword on him before but it seems there's a first for anything. First it was Szél and now its Uvsa. Somehow both his brothers - adoptive or blood - seem to keep turning on him. He can't say he's fond of it.

"What are you talking about?! What fight?! Usva, you aren't making any sense!"

The growl that leaves his sibling only has more red Mist flooding into the space around them and he can't say it has to be very good for anyone. There are children in the area, and that woman and the rebel faction that His Excellency is so obsessed with. There are humans in the area and they don't need to breathing in Isoveli's Mist.

"I have no idea what you're even talking about! Can't you see you're being manipulated, Isoveli?!"

"Manipulated?!" The red sun explodes at the younger's words as red eyes turn molten and he glares his brother down with the full ferocity of the raging sun he can fall claim to within their eclipse.

"Who are YOU to talk about manipulation you little LIAR! You LIED to me and you STOLE the crown from me and if it wasn't for your tricks I would have been the rightful heir to the throne!"

The elder's foot is sliding back as hands grip the hilt of the flare sword as the body of red falls into proper position to fight.

"Now draw your blade. It's time, after all these years, that you paid for what you've done."

[hannieween]

hell bent | yoon jeonghan

› pairings: yoon jeonghan x female reader › aus: demon hunter jeonghan, supernatural au, demon reader › genres: angst, fluff, smut (18+) › word count: 12.7k

› 🎧: this man – jxw

› special thanks to @gyuswhore who helped me proofreading this 🩵

› this is part 4 of the curse - hannieween fest

› warnings after the cut! READ THEM CAREFULLY 🗣️

› warnings: hurt/comfort! major character death scene (it's not described in great detail), resurrection, grief, injury, blood, alcohol consumption, smut with plot, sex dreams, unprotected p in v, creampie and pull-out method, corruption kink, exhibitionism, love making, jeonghan is down bad, breeding kink, oral sex, pussy drunk jeonghan, buff jeonghan. pet names: baby (hers)

› disclaimer: minors dni this post is intended for 18+ readers. have your age stated in your description and try not to look like a bot please 🙂

hell bent

JEONGHAN SAT ON THE GROUND FOR WHAT FELT LIKE AN ETERNITY. He stared at the horizon until the darkness dissolved and the sun rose. The weight in his arms increased as the seconds went by until he grew numb and cold in the morning mist.

He blinked when the sunlight started to hurt his eyes. His throat was sore and dry from screaming, and his fists were bloody. But that did not matter. All that mattered was gone. He looked down where you lay motionless in his arms. Cold and bloody.

Hours had dragged on, and the time to move was drawing near. But he feared that if he moved, reality would set in. He cupped your cheek, kissing your forehead before pressing his own on yours, and waited. He waited for you to open your eyes, to feel your take in a breath.

It was over.

He got up, carrying your limp body in his arms. Once on his feet, the weight of your body caused a deep blow to his chest.

You laid on the backseat of his car as he drove aimlessly until he found a place deserted enough to hide. A place to bury your body.

The hole he dug in the ground was surrounded by trees, small patches of grass that grew small flowers attracting butterflies in, and in the distance, he could hear the chirping of birds. You looked peacefully asleep once he laid you there.

It was over. The torture was over. The pain, the suffering, all of that. And for a small moment, he thought you were smiling.

When Jeonghan stumbled upon the headquarters, he did not even bother knocking, because they saw his car parked on the driveway of the old manor.

Seungcheol opened the door, a bewildered look on his face, mouth parted, brows drawn inward. “What happened to you?” he asked, stepping aside to let Jeonghan in.

Jeonghan hugged his arm to his body. “Is Joshua here?” he asked instead, hurrying to the hospital wing of the manor.

“What’s happening?” Joshua raised his head, standing up from the desk pushed to the far end of the long room. His gaze fell on Jeonghan and got to work in an instant. “Sit,” he motioned to one of the beds.

Jeonghan obliged, letting out a pained groan as he sat down. “I need a favor,” he forced out, sitting still as Joshua grabbed a pair of scissors, cutting through Jeonghan’s zipper hoodie to reveal the deep cut from the shoulder to the elbow.

“Tell me what happened to you,” Joshua asked softly, it sounded like a routine question. But Jeonghan knew it was genuine curiosity. Joshua sat down on a stool beside the bed, examining all the damage done.

“Seungcheol,” Jeonghan muttered. “I need you to do something for me.”

Seungcheol stood before the bed, placing his hands on his hips. “I’m listening.”

Jeonghan took in a breath, mustering the courage to speak as pain throbbed inside him. “In the outskirts of Veridian Bay, some three kilometres south, are three dead hunters.”

“Shit,” he hissed. “Demons? Were you with them?”

Jeonghan shook his head, swallowing hard. “I killed them.”

Both Joshua and Seungcheol stopped dead in their tracks. Hunter deaths were common, and they were just reported, families were contacted in some cases. But most of the time, they went unnoticed. But hunters killing other hunters was something out of the ordinary.

“Jeonghan, what happened?” Joshua asked slowly and with a tone laced with concern.

Jeonghan shuddered, shaking his head again. “I can’t,” he choked out. “I just need that taken care of. I couldn’t go back to get them.”

Seungcheol ran a palm on his face, and Jeonghan knew he would not let this go easily. But he just nodded and turned around to strut out of the hospital wing. “Consider it done.”

Jeonghan and Joshua waited quietly, sitting very still until the loud noise of the front door slamming shut announced that they were alone. In the distance, the roar of Seungcheol’s bike echoed throughout the clear of the vicinity, growing more and more distant as he drove away.

Joshua continued working, cleaning the wound on Jeonghan’s arm, sending glances to his face to both measure how much painJeonghan was experiencing and to wait for him to talk.

“They killed her,” Jeonghan croaked, closing his eyes as a painful shudder swarmed inside him, threatening to break his mind.

“The hunters?” Joshua murmured.

“They came for her, I couldn’t do anything. She was gone before I could get to her,” he whispered, his face contorting in pain from the first puncturing of the needle stitching his skin back together, and the image of you lying on the ground.

“It has been months since we last talked, Jeonghan,” Joshua mentioned, carefully closing one stitch. “What changed?”

Jeonghan shook his head, refusing to open his eyes. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” Joshua replied, his gentle tone easing some of the anxiousness in Jeonghan’s mind.

Jeonghan opened his eyes, finding his best friend sitting beside him. “Do you know anything about bonds?” he asked, waiting until Joshua nodded reluctantly. “Pacts, deals, promises… everything we were taught in training, you know that they are binding contracts with demons.”

Joshua frowned. “Did you make a pact with her?” he asked knowingly.

“Much worse,” Jeonghan replied, adding an empty smile that felt crazy to him. “She was bound to me and I to her since we were born.”

Joshua blinked a couple of times, tilting his head to one side and lowering his medical tools just a little. His gaze glided over the features of Jeonghan’s weary and dirty face, waiting for him to elaborate.

“You know,” Jeonghan asserted once his best friend remained quiet. “Did you know about this?”

Joshua sent his gaze upward, outlining the corners of the room pensively. “I’m never on the field, not like you and Seungcheol. I stay here, I patch all of you up and in the meantime, I hear the stories you bring from out there.”

“Please get to the point,” Jeonghan gritted, bracing himself for more physical pain as Joshua resumed stitching his arm up.

“I’ve heard stories, yeah,” Joshua mumbled, carefully adding another stitch. “When you told me about her, I just wondered about it. But you never showed up again, so I couldn’t tell you anything.”

Jeonghan sighed in resignation. “She is my soulmate,” he said, the word coming out with enough weight to make his heart protest in pain.

“How do you feel?” Joshua pulled back to take a surveying look.

“I buried her… She’s gone,” Jeonghan mumbled dejectedly, his gaze falling out of focus, lost in the distance. “She’s gone.”

The small patches of flowers surrounding the place where you lay, would they grow over you? Do you like flowers?

“Sounds like you cared about her,” Joshua whispered, finishing up the last stitch.

“Everything happened so fast,” Jeonghan went on, swallowing his tears. “I couldn’t get to her in time. I felt her pain. I felt the last beating of her heart.”

Joshua stopped, the pause was minimal, but it meant something. “You felt it?”

Jeonghan nodded in sharp, but tiny motions. “They tried to cut her wings,” he whispered in a near-crazed look flashing his eyes. Jeonghan was lost in the memory, trying to retrace every move he made upon finding you, but he could not remember what he did to those hunters.

“Jeonghan, what do you mean you felt it?” Joshua pressed, his tone more urgent and Jeonghan could tell that his friend was worried about him.

“The bond. We can sense each other through it,” he said, his voice breaking halfway through the sentence.

“But not anymore?” Joshua prodded, his tone gentle and cautious, fearing that his friend might be losing touch with reality.

“Not anymore,” Jeonghan breathed in, his chest stammering as he suppressed a sob, tears welling up in his eyes.

“And the bond?” Joshua lifted his gaze from the work he was doing, his tone rose in worry.

“It’s still there,” Jeonghan sniffled, crestfallen as tears rolled down his cheeks. “It’s still calling me to her, there’s just no receiving end.”

Joshua left his tools on the cart beside him, discarding the rags filthy with blood. He let out a heavy sigh, his shoulders going slack. “I’m so sorry for your loss,” he muttered, gently patting Jeonghan’s back, then bringing his hand to the back of his head, caressing as if to soothe him.

But there was nothing that could ever soothe Jeonghan’s pain. The emptiness inside him seemed to ache at its edges, his mind felt shaken with the reality he was thrust into. It seemed insane that it had been hours since he kissed you, eager with the prospect of starting fresh with you.

And now you were gone.

There was no point in cursing at life’s way to mock him anymore. Jeonghan thought this was the way he was paying for all the times he neglected you, all the times he hurt you. But the selfish part in him wished that life had given him the opportunity to say goodbye to you.

Jeonghan’s heart broke the night he lost you.

Despite everything that happened, he tried to move on. He convinced himself that life still went on and that you would have wanted him to move forward.

He kept your memory alive through small things. Some mornings he would go to a diner and order pancakes with syrup and bacon. When he was alone in his room, he would pretend you were there with him. He would imagine hearing your laugh, the small sounds you made when you slept.

It was the first month since you were gone. Jeonghan never had the opportunity to know what your favorite flowers were if you even liked receiving flowers. So he routinely left a different bouquet of flowers on the grave he made for you. He left lilies, the first time he went to visit you, one hand holding the bouquet, the other holding a bottle of rum.

He sat on the ground, leaning back against the trunk of a tree. The clear was quiet and dense with humidity, his senses stimulated by the smell of wet grass and dirt.

There was a peace that filled the emptiness inside him as he sat beside your grave. As though the bond could rest easy once he was there, even though there was no response from you.

Jeonghan grabbed the bottle with one hand around its neck and tipped a generous amount of rum in his mouth. Exhaling harshly, he wiped his chin with the back of his hand. “At least we have our answer, eh?” Jeonghan muttered glumly.

The next time he went there, some three weeks later, he brought you petunias. He thought that they would look good along with the wild chamomiles that were growing around you. This time he realized that he did not bring a bottle with him, and he did not need it. He just sat there, content with the peace that being near you brought him.

The third month you laid there, he brought you peonies. This time, he bought them with the memory of your glinting eyes the last and only time he saw you with joy and love glowing all around you.

He stood before the grave with his hands inside his pockets, looking at the ground adorned with flowers. “I don’t even know if you liked flowers,” he said, an empty smile curving his lips. “But I don’t know what else people leave on graves.”

With a tired sigh, he sat down on the ground, tucking his legs in a butterfly position. His fingers toyed with the grass growing in patches beneath him. The stillness of the clearing offered him the moment for reflection; he ventured again with questions about you. He never wondered about what the afterlife would look like, but sometimes he liked to think that there was some preternatural way you could listen to him.

“Shua saw me with flowers this morning,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “He said nothing, just told me to come back before sundown. I think he’s known for a while that I come here to visit you.” He raised his gaze, finding the sunlight filtering through the thicket of the trees, bathing him. “He’s a good friend, I think you would like him.”

Jeonghan lowered his gaze to the flowers sitting on the ground. He propped one elbow on his knee, resting his chin on his fist. “I almost didn’t come here this time,” he muttered guiltily, filling his chest with air to try to push the ache inside him.

It was as though the mere thought of not coming here to visit you made the bond protest. When you were alive, it was the mad craving for you that did not allow him to stay away for long. Now, it was just a thing that pulsated inside him, calling for you.

He breathed in, filling his lungs with the humid air of the quiet forest, trying to gulp down the knot coiling around his throat. “I miss you,” he whispered to the ground, his eyes brimming with hot tears. “I wish I could go back and do things differently with you… I wish I hadn’t been so stupid.”

He stood up, dusting the dirt from his hands while contemplating whether he wanted to say goodbye to you or not. Instead, he turned and walked away from the clear, enjoying the chirping of the birds keeping you company as he returned home.

Jeonghan returned to the manor, where he had been living since that night. The smell of food distracted him before he went to his designated room, so he just walked to the kitchen, finding Joshua busy preparing dinner.

“You’re back,” Joshua muttered gently, but the look he sent was weary. “I thought you’d be gone for longer.”

“There was not much to do,” he muttered offhandedly.

Joshua set a plate on the small dining table motioning to Jeonghan to the chair. “That’s for you,” he said.

“Thanks,” Jeonghan replied, sitting down with a tired groan. He kept an eye on his friend, pacing around the kitchen of the old manor. “What’s up with you?”

“Just thinking,” Joshua muttered, serving a plate for himself, and sat down in front of Jeonghan, occupying a space on the table too. “Ever tried summoning her?”

Jeonghan’s eyes went wide, his heart stammering for a split second. “What?” he choked out.

Joshua took the fork into his mouth and nodded, munching his food with ease, as though he was having the most normal conversation on the planet. “Have you ever tried summoning her?” he repeated slowly.

“No,” he replied, his tone coming out like a question.

“Mmm, I see,” he said, taking his cup to drink with long and generous gulps.

“Why?” Jeonghan asked, but his friend kept drinking.

Joshua shrugged. “I just thought that you might’ve tried it at least once.”

“Why would I do that?” Jeonghan frowned, the ache palpitating strongly in his chest. “She’s gone.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bring it up like that,” Joshua replied, lowering his gaze in shame.

You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, leaning your cheek against the side of his head. The sighs slowly turned into moans, spilling out of your lips relentlessly as you rolled your hips on him, fucking him slowly. “Jeonghan,” your voice called.

“I know, baby,” he replied, enjoying the feeling he got whenever he was with you, it was bright and alive and dancing on his skin. “I feel it too,” he whispered.

You moved your hands to cup his face, pressing a hard kiss on his lips as you started moving your hips on him faster. “I love you,” you breathed.

Jeonghan moaned, wrapping you with his arms to flip the positions on the bed, pressing your body against the mattress. “I love you,” he replied, a shudder overpowering him, making him utter your name, over and over as he made love to you.

He pressed his body against the hard mattress, calling your name again as he woke up violently with an exasperated sigh. Rubbing his hands against his face, he shook himself from the merciless dream he had of you. “Gods,” he choked out, covering his face in shame, breathing hard against his hands. “Fuck, fuck!”

The hole in his chest pulsated painfully, desperately calling out to you to no end. As he closed his eyes, gathering himself, he saw you in the eye of his mind. Your sweet smile, every curve of your body.

It seemed a true tragedy that he could feel you in his dreams only. He felt your skin, he felt the bond responding to you the way it used to when you were alive. It was the first time he dreamed of you since you left, and he suspected it would not be the last.

This was his burden to bear. And he would have to endure it.

When Jeonghan first met you, he could not make sense of the pull he felt. His surroundings warped and everything focused on you, on your face, your eyes, even your smell. Jeonghan did not feel the very particular repulsion he always felt whenever he came in close contact with a demon.

But he wished to. He tried to force himself to recoil at the thought of you, after he met you. But everything inside him made him want to walk right back to that pub where you used to work. In the back of his mind, he saw the doors to the pub, the bar, he wanted to go there one more time and see you.

It felt wrong. It felt so dirty and sticky to even think about you without recoiling. But Jeonghan was strong-willed, and very diligent on his job, so he just kept himself to his business. Tracking and getting rid of demons. But somehow, he could not get near you again, even if everything in his life obligated him to track you, hunt you.

Time went on like this, his mind plagued with the morbid curiosity to go back to that pub and see you again. In his dreams, he saw your eyes, he heard your voice make out the same exact words you told him the night he met you. He heard your voice utter your name, the sound echoing in the back of his mind as he tried to continue with his life.

Until one night, when something unfortunate happened.

It was one of those sleepless nights, Jeonghan decided to go on a night watch out of town. He was tracking some demon activity he was informed of nights ago. This demon apparently had a pattern which was not a rarity, demons could tend to go for certain humans at a certain time, it was not weird.

But apparently, this demon liked to hunt a particular kind of human; humans that were either wanted criminals or suspects of a crime, people that liked transgressing against their own in the worst ways imaginable. And that was something worth noting to Jeonghan, it made this demon easy to catch.

Or at least, that is what he had thought.

Night after night, Jeonghan had no luck falling asleep and when he went out to track this demon, he had no luck focusing on the task at hand. He was on the verge of calling it a night, wanting to fall asleep in his car, or in the nearest motel he could find. Walking aimlessly on the side of the road, he realized that it would take him about twenty minutes to get to where he parked his car and sighed.

A small shiver ran down his spine as if the line of his back was being stroked with the tip of a paintbrush. His eyelids fluttered in response, and his chest felt strange, like overcome by a fuzzy sensation.

He needed to be alert, he thought. A demon was around, and he could sense it. Stopping his lazy gait, he sent his gaze to scope his surroundings, through the thicket of trees flanking the lonely road.

But as the feeling inside him returned, and more intensely, he realized that he was in danger. A rustle of leaves echoed at the other side of the road where he stood, and slowly, a figure emerged from the trees, it moved gracefully and gently. A pair of dark horns distorted the shadow.

As he reached for the knife strapped to his thigh, he realized that he only felt endangered because it was you who moved through the shadows of the forest. And he wanted to avoid you above all.

“I was beginning to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” your voice reached him like a gentle caress on his mind.

“What are you doing here?” Jeonghan said, not removing his fist from the handle of his knife. “Are you following me?”

You tilted your head to one side, a smirk spreading on your lips. “Why, are you afraid of me?” you mused, laughing lightly. But when he did not reply to your quip, you just shrugged. “I came out because I was craving a snack. But I think you might suffice.”

His fist tightened around the handle, his eyes quickly reading your stance, but you remained leaning on your side to the trunk of the tree.

“Relax, hunter,” you said, tossing your hair from your shoulder to your back and crossing your arms. “Have a little laugh, you look tense.”

Jeonghan stood his ground, lifting his chin to analyze you a bit further. “Did you kill any humans tonight?”

“No, not yet,” you picked your nails, trying to appear as uninterested in his questioning as possible, but your heart was running a mile per second. Being around Jeonghan was thrilling, it made you feel full in your chest and every nerve beneath your skin to call for him.

“But you will,” he said, realizing that it was you, the demon he was looking for. The demon that only fed on men that hurt women and children.

“Well, a girl’s gotta eat,” you sighed, pushing yourself off the tree and taking a step toward him.

He tensed up at that instant, one foot stepping back but then he decided to hold his ground, trying to resist walking away. You were dangerous, and he did not know what set you apart from other demons.

You ignored the fact that he still had a hand on his knife, and he was very much as lethal as you were. Taking some steps to where he stood still, you coiled one finger around a strand of hair, smiling when you realized that he was not afraid of you, but weary.

“You seem like you need a night off,” you pointed, coming closer to him to take a fuller look at his face, seeing the bags under his lifeless eyes, and the dry skin on his lips.

“Don’t come any closer,” Jeonghan warned, rigid with the question of why he could not make his muscles move in any direction.

“Or what?” you asked, standing in front of him. “Are you going to kill me, hunter?” you asked, your eyes glimmering in the dark, full of curiosity.

“If you take another step I might,” Jeonghan replied with certainty, something in him stirring with a strange fascination when you smiled at the clear warning.

“No, you won’t,” you countered, giving him one of those looks that made him feel more uneasy. “You’re not at full strength, you’re tired, and hungry. And worst of all, you feel like you can’t move, am I right?”

It was like you could read into his soul, he thought. Your words were like wildfire spreading inside him, it made his insides boil with rage. Part of him wondered why he was made this uncomfortable and angry at something one demon said. Demons spoke out of the need to lure hunters into a trap, and this was no different. But this trap seemed so tempting.

To drive your point further, you took another step, inches away from Jeonghan.

“I make you nervous,” you whispered, fascination glinting on your eyes as you wallowed. “What are you going to do, Jeonghan? You can’t run away, and you can’t attack me, so what’s your next move?”

His breathing shifted when his name fell from your lips. He had never felt this way, he realized. The quick pulse, the fluttering in his stomach, the shaky breathing, he knew how nervousness felt, but this was entirely new to him.

“Hm?” you pressed, tilting your head to one side as you nearly stood on your tiptoes to level with him. “Come on, no one’s going to judge you if you run away, and I won’t tell a soul,” you showed him a mischievous smile, one that he might have hated if it were not for the tight feeling invading him wholly.

As you stood before him, one thing became painfully clear to him: he was attracted to you. It was something simply physical, or that was what he tried to convince himself. Maybe it was your pretty face, your velvety tone, the grace in which you moved. Not only that, as he casted a look down to meet your face, he also had a glimpse of your frame and the thought of wanting to meet every curve of your body was alluring.

So alluring that he wanted to surrender to it.

At that, your eyes shone more intensely. Again, as though you had a secret line to his thoughts, and you just had discovered what he was thinking.

But you sighed with faux disappointment. “And here I thought you were fun,” you pouted in mockery. “Pity. I guess I’ll just go and have fun elsewhere,” you moved again, walking around his body once, as though taking another full look at him. “Bye, hunter.”

And then you sunk into the line of trees again, disappearing from his view. But his senses were already tuned and following you, so he could hear every step you took down the forest. And he could not help but take a step in your direction as well.

That night, he chased you down the forest, his heart beating in a frenzy, his mind blank but with only one intention. You started sprinting, laughing lightly when he kept with your pace and ran closely behind you.

When Jeonghan was finally within reach, he grabbed your arm, turning you around and messing up your step. You stumbled back against a tree, realizing that he had calculated this because his arms were caging you in on both of your sides.

Jeonghan brought a hand to your throat, his fingers pressing on your skin harshly, his strength subsiding once he felt your pulse. But his face, riddled with confusion and frustration at the same time, his mouth parted a little as he could not bring himself to say anything. His gaze swam over the features of your pretty face, stopping once on your eyes, your lips.

The moment was deadly quiet as you witnessed the fire inside him die down slowly once he came in contact with you, skin on skin. It was game over, you knew it, and Jeonghan did too. There was a quiet exchange of glances right before Jeonghan dipped his head and you closed your eyes, gulping on air as his lips met your own with a swift kiss.

What possessed him to do that, Jeonghan did not know, but he was not in the position to ask himself any more questions because he did it again. Kissing you now with abandon, his lips sinking in between yours, making out with you like he never had with anyone else. You moaned into the kiss, sending him into a frenzy.

It was as though you were both committing a crime, and none of you would say a word. You grabbed him by the flaps of the black leather jacket, pulling him impossibly closer to your body, the proximity making your chest feel fuller, your blood heating up.

He released his grip on your throat, his fingers sliding down your torso to undo the button of your blouse. The next moves were rushed, as though neither of you wanted to stop and question what you were about to do. And the forest around you stood silent too, being witness to the fateful deed.

In seconds, Jeonghan had you pressed against the trunk of the tree, your legs wrapped around his hips, your skirt hiked up your tummy, your chest naked and exposed to him. You sneaked a hand between your body and his, reaching for his hard cock to guide it to your entrance for him to sink inside you, making you feel every inch of his dick in one go.

The first stroke set your whole body aflame. Your mouth fell open, but no sound came out as Jeonghan wasted no time and started fucking you with hard thrusts, not giving you time to adjust to the stretch of his cock. The wind got knocked out of your lungs with sharp exhales, but you kept yourself angled for the merciless rutting, unable to look away from the fiery obsession growing inside him, showing on his face.

Neither of you said a thing, just kept looking at each other, unable to speak, or to look away. The feeling was exquisite, invading every inch of your body, tingling beneath your skin. Jeonghan’s eyes glazed over, his mouth parting slightly but he kept himself quiet, fucking you to get rid of the thing trying to rip his heart out.

And when you reached your orgasm, it was the best feeling you had ever experienced in your life. It had you finally moaning out his name, clenching around him as he too spilled himself inside you with hard thrusts.

That was the night that kickstarted the deep craving and obsession you had for each other, the push and pull that Jeonghan could not make sense of until the night you told him of the bond. That was the night that Jeonghan regretted for a long time until he lost you.

“Hey, are you there?”

Jeonghan lifted his head, snapping back to reality. He had been contemplating for hours, sitting in the kitchen with a mug of cold tea in his hands. His fingers had grown cold again. He cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Mingyu opened the fridge for the fifth time that day, just to close it again. “Wonwoo and I are going to a Halloween parade downtown, see if we catch something fun. Wanna come with us?”

Jeonghan did not know for how long he had been sitting there reminiscing about you. In his mind, Jeonghan could still feel your touch on his skin, so it was difficult for him to assimilate what he had just heard, so he nodded again, accepting the invitation. “Sure,” he croaked.

“‘Kay,” Mingyu smiled giddily with the triumph of getting Jeonghan out of the house. “See you in the garage in five minutes.”

The streets were full of nocturnal life. People came out with costumes of all kinds, some of them were recognizable to Jeonghan, and some were not. It was a small city where the headquarters were located, but Jeonghan was not surprised to see a lot of people gathering there for the Halloween parade.

Demons ran amok in places like this, they practically crawled into these types of events, and humans were easier prey in crowded places. It was also easier for demons to mask themselves.

“We should go, Mingyu,” Jeonghan said, moving through the crowd and using Mingyu as a shield.

“Maybe we could move to the sidelines,” Wonwoo suggested, walking behind Jeonghan. “It would be easier to stay alert like that, we don’t have to be in the thick of the crowd.”

“Have a little fun, you two,” Mingyu said. He was a person that could find the good side to nearly everything, even this damned job, Jeonghan thought.

“I’m going to take a breather,” Jeonghan said, trying to cut through the crowd.

“Gods, you are one ray of sunshine,” Mingyu tutted. “Come on, this way,” he motioned to one side of the multitude of people, where they could cross more efficiently.

Jeonghan followed, walking away from the sea of people, and starting to thread through it to get to the other side of the street when he felt it. It was a rush, tingling down from the back of his head to the rest of his spine. It left him speechless, breathless.

“Wait,” Jeonghan blurted, placing a hand on Mingyu’s shoulder.

“What is it?” he frowned, sending his gaze through the sea of faces. The muscles of his jaw twitched, and as he drew in a breath, he exhaled: “Demon.”

Jeonghan stood frozen, eyes fixated on the pavement. “No,” he uttered dejectedly, straightening up to catch his breath. Not just any demon. He searched through the mass of unknown eyes, the masks, the makeup, growing more and more desperate as the feeling returned caressing his back, making him shudder.

“Jeonghan, what is it?” Mingyu muttered beside him, squaring up his shoulders after noticing the shocked expression on his face.

Yoon Jeonghan would know your face anywhere. Not just that, but the way the very air seemed to change whenever you were near.

“Mingyu, stop,” he whispered, digging his fingers on the muscle to bring him to a halt.

Mingyu dropped his jaw slightly, ignoring Jeonghan’s direct order and made a motion to step into the crowd again, a hand reaching for the knife on his back.

“I said stop,” Jeonghan ordered at once, his tone firm and snappy.

You moved through the sea of people, your eyes swimming all over the place in true amazement, your mouth parting as you looked at the costumes that the people around you wore.

Jeonghan shuddered, unable to blink in fear you were an illusion. But Mingyu saw you too, he saw your wings in full display, brushing against the humans around you, and he saw your black horns curving back from the crown of your head.

You laughed when a man dressed in a killer clown costume jumped on you, trying to get a scare out of you but failing miserably. The sound of your laughter made Jeonghan weak, it made him want to dissolve into the pavement below his feet.

“What the fuck?” Mingyu whispered, looking at you and then back at Jeonghan. “She’s a demon, what are we waiting for?”

“She’s mine,” Jeonghan snapped but did not look away from you. He simply removed his hand from Mingyu’s shoulder and started to walk slowly towards you as you moved through the myriads of costumes, wide-eyed in amazement.

As he came closer, reality seemed more and more like a joke to him. He tried to convince himself that perhaps he was dreaming again. But there was no denying the bond pulsating stronger as he approached you.

“Nice wings,” a guy said in passing, catching your attention but only for a fleeting moment.

You made no reply, only continued looking at your surroundings, the lights mirroring your dark eyes, full of hunger, full of life. Dark eyes that glided all over Jeonghan’s frame as he stood in front of you, perplexed to the point he forgot speech, he forgot how to use his mouth.

“What are you supposed to be?” you asked, tilting your head to one side.

Jeonghan did not know what to reply, as he was unsure that you even knew that you spent the last three months three feet below ground. You looked as alive as the day he told you he loved you.

You died, I buried you. Jeonghan’s mind reeled over and over. Your heart stopped beating, I buried you.

“I’m… I…” Jeonghan whispered, not by choice, but by the inability to raise his voice higher.

Your eyes went over the features of his face, and he expected eagerly to see a glint of recognition in them, but you beat him to it. “Do I know you?” you asked, your voice soft and gentle with him, but you did not know that your question might have been like a dagger to his heart.

His heart caved in, and he took the pain as he had been taking it for the last three months that you were gone. “I don’t think so, no,” he finally said, his pulse quickening upon realizing that the sound of his voice made your pupils dilate.

His voice. A very distant memory, like trying to recall a lost dream upon waking up from a long nap. You studied him with your gaze one more time, trying to figure out why his face meant something to you.

Jeonghan saw his two companions through the corner of his eye, but he ignored them, knowing the reason why you also looked so wide-eyed. “Are you hungry?” he asked, and seeing your brow furrowing, he quickly added with a thumb pointing back. “There’s a diner down the street, far away from all this noise.”

And far away from any potential casualties.

“I suppose I don’t get a name,” you quipped, and shivers ran down his spine.

So he tried to figure out if that brought back any memories when he said: “Only if I get yours first.”

Your gaze went soft, your breathing quickening slightly but only for him to notice it. You did not know your name, and the realization shook you so hard that it made you dizzy. “Yeah, I think I’ll go with you. If you’re buying.”

At that, Jeonghan mustered up a light smile, seeing that although your memories were gone, you were still you. “Yeah, I’m buying.”

He cast a look back only to make sure that Mingyu had understood why Jeonghan had ordered him to stop. And there was a knowing look mirroring back in Mingyu’s eyes, as he needed no explanation. Jeonghan nodded to him and then motioned you to follow down the street where the diner was located.

As you walked in front of him, he got a view of your entire frame. The t-shirt you had worn the day that you died was torn on the back midway through, for when those hunters tried to cut your wings. The rest of your clothes were dirty too, black with traces of blood and dirt, adding to the illusion of a Halloween costume.

“This place is good. I’ve been here many times before,” Jeonghan lied, keeping an eye on you to see if you were keen on catching his lies. “The pancakes and syrup are delicious.”

“Pancakes and syrup?” your eyes flitted to his face and back to the diner as Jeonghan pushed the door open, holding it for you.

Jeonghan nodded in short motions, his heart deflating a little when he saw no evidence that you had caught his lie. “You’ll love it.”

“Mmn,” you hummed confusedly, following him like a puppy that has just found a knowing elder. “I believe you.”

Jeonghan motioned to a seat of one of the booths and you slid obediently, crossing your arms on the table. He flagged down one of the servers and ordered for you only, glancing your way back and forth, tearing his gaze away only when you noticed his eyes on you.

“Eh,” you began, scratching an invisible itch on the back of your hand when the server kept looking at you weirdly until she walked away.

“It’s your wings,” Jeonghan pointed at your large, membranous black wings with the tip of his nose. “They look too real for a Halloween costume.”

You pouted, giving one of your wings a look. “They are real,” you muttered, seemingly offended.

Jeonghan sighed, unable to tear his eyes away from you. I’m glad they are, I’m glad you are real, he wanted to say but the words never came. “Yeah, I know.”

“These are too,” you pointed to the black horns curving back from the crown of your head.

“I know,” Jeonghan muttered, leaning over with a curiosity that he could no longer try to shake off. “Can you try to hide them?” he asked.

Your eyes were windows to your mind because they widened in shock for an instant. “Is that possible?”

Jeonghan realized that he never asked you how you did it, so he nodded and thought of a reply quickly. “Imagine them gone.”

Instinctively, your eyes swam upwards, focusing for half a thought and then your horns dissipated from his vision. “Oh,” you muttered, smiling in small triumph. “Did I do it?”

He smiled with you, unbeknownst that he had not done that in months. “You did it,” he said, his chest finally feeling whole and warm. “Can you try with your wings now?”

“Mmmn,” you frowned, breathing in and then they were gone too. “Oh, that feels weird,” you muttered with a small giggle that sent chills down his spine.

“Two coffees and pancakes with syrup for the young lady,” the server chirped, aloof that you had gotten rid of your horns and wings completely, serving the order and then walking away.

“Thanks,” he muttered, expecting for your first bite.

You were aloof to his scrutiny, sinking your fork into your food and taking one bite. You had the reaction that Jeonghan had secretly been waiting for, your eyes widened, glinting as you released a pleased moan. “Wow,” you muttered, wasting no time and taking another bite.

“Is it good?” Jeonghan whispered, keeping his eyes on you as you ate eagerly.

“So good,” you mumbled, your cheeks stuffed with your favorite dish. “I like this.”

“I’m glad,” Jeonghan replied meaningfully, trying for a second time to see if that brought any memories back. After seeing your reaction, he had no doubt in mind that somehow you were miraculously brought back to him instead, he was full of questions now, and he knew it would not be a straight answer to every single one of them.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you raised your eyebrows just as you were about to take another bite from your food. When he remained motionless, you added: “We’re strangers, I know, but I know that look.”

“Eh?” he frowned.

“You know, when someone wants to say something but doesn’t have the guts to,” you shrugged. “I don’t know much about things, but I can be a really good listener, and…” you sneaked a glance at his face and back to your plate. “You seem familiar.”

Jeonghan saw some glimpse of hope, but he remained careful. Nothing could be this good in his life and you coming back to it had to be another joke somehow. “Where do you come from?” he asked.

You pursed your lips, dubious of how to reply but you just went with what you could make out from experience. “I actually don’t know,” you said with an awkward air. “I dug myself out of a hole in the ground.”

Jeonghan showed you a sad smile. “That seems like a weird experience,” he commented just to keep you talking.

And it worked. “Yeah, I guess nobody thought of double-checking to see if I was really dead,” you smiled lightly but sent a quick glance to verify if Jeonghan would understand your dry humour.

“Or maybe you’re just a very deep sleeper.”

That made you laugh, the sound bubbly and airy. It surprised you for a second, but Jeonghan caught that look on your face despite him being overridden with a deep sense of joy when he heard the sound coming out of your mouth.

Jeonghan tried to keep his facial expressions in check, but he was so mesmerized that it showed in his glinting eyes.

“What about you, stranger?” you asked, pushing the empty plate aside and propped one elbow on the table, resting your chin on your hand.

“What about me?” he asked uncomfortably, coughing to shake off the deep wonder he felt.

“Where do you come from?” you asked innocently, shifting slightly on your seat to mask that you were also uncomfortable by the sense of familiarity his face gave you.

“I come from a town very, very far away from here,” he responded.

“Are you not hungry? You didn’t eat,” you said, taking the cup of coffee to your lips to drink one large gulp, you recoiled immediately, putting the cup down and using that hand to cover your mouth.

“What?” Jeonghan asked, frowning upon knowing that reaction. It was a natural instinct to recoil from things that could burn, humans did it. But not demons. Demons could not get burned from a hot coffee, much less feel like recoiling instinctively.

“It’s hot,” you said, lifting your eyes to him in shame as your eyes watered slightly from the stinging pain.

“Did you get burned?” Jeonghan pressed in utter bewilderment.

“Well, yeah, that’s what happens when something is really, really hot!” your eyes widened.

Then you did something that only sent him further down his intrigue, reaching out to grab the sugar to add two spoons to your coffee. You did this naturally and without much thinking. It was as though your memories were lost, but things out of habit remained with you. He wondered then if that was how you had instinctively found him. He wondered how strongly you felt the bond.

“Well?” you asked, stirring your coffee with the spoon with gentleness. When he just raised his eyebrows, you added: “Aren’t you hungry?”

He cleared his throat awkwardly. “No, I’m not,” he replied, clasping his hands beneath his chin and propping his elbows on the table. “You?”

You nodded. “I’m full,” you replied contently.

Confusion gripped him again, making him furrow his brow. “You’re not hungry anymore?” he asked, knowing that you could take one full meal, and still be hungry for more. Because no meal could satiate your need to feed on souls.

But you nodded cutely. “Yep, full.”

Another glimpse of hope. Something Jeonghan desperately wanted to cling to. If you could burn yourself, and feel full after one meal… not only that, but you miraculously and quite literally crawled out of your grave.

“Do you remember what it felt like?” Jeonghan whispered, so quiet that for a second he feared you would not be capable of hearing him.

But you raised your eyes. “What?”

“When you woke up in that hole, do you remember what happened before that?”

You shook your head slowly. “Nope,” you pouted once more. “How do you know I don’t remember?” you inquired, tilting your head to one side.

“I uh,” Jeonghan leaned back on his seat, flagging the server to ask for the bill. “I guess you’re familiar too,” he said, showing you a tight smile.

“Mmph,” you looked at him for a long moment, thinking that his eyes, the glint in them made you think of a spark before a fire.

Jeonghan on the other side of the table, was beginning to mortify with the idea that your temporary death might have inched you closer to becoming human. The time you tried to become human was through soul starvation, something that was slowly killing you too. And he thought that maybe you were only able to come back because you remained part-demon. A half-mortal.

Jeonghan also suspected that it was him uttering your name in the middle of the night the detonator for your resurrection if he could even call it that. Summoning a demon was a whole ritual, but you were bound to him and him to you, so everything that he thought he knew about it was uncertain too.

“I guess I should thank you for the food,” you toyed with the edges of the table without looking at him. “But I also don’t know why you’re doing this for me.”

“You have nothing to thank me for,” he said, realizing that his throat had gone dry with his thinking, he felt breathless, and it was not only because it was hard for him to sit with the fact that you were back, but also because he now had to make a choice.

If he was right and you were half-human now, you were also unaware of the bond. Jeonghan was face to face with the opportunity to finally let you go, and set you free from this vicious cycle. You would not be subjected to a lifetime of misery with him, being chased for being who you are and being with a demon hunter like him.

But there was another problem: he made a promise to you.

“Are you okay?” you whispered.

“Yeah, yes I am,” he cleared his throat once again, he pulled out his wallet and left a bill on the table. “Listen, I’ll show you a place where you can stay for now, alright?”

Before you could answer, he stood up from the table and walked towards the door of the diner, making you follow him outside.

“Where are we going?” you asked, trying to keep up with his large steps.

“A place where you could be taken in, a shelter,” he eyed you as you walked beside him.

“Will I see you again?” you looked panicked for a second, fear creeping inside you at the thought of him disappearing.

“No,” he replied shortly, lowering his gaze to the ground as he led you through an alleyway, knowing that the shelter would be just across from it.

Jeonghan could honor his promise to you. He would not walk away from you, he would not let you go. That would make the bond grow peaceful and content, and that would make his suffering end at once.

One undeniable truth was that if he could walk away from you, there would be no danger around you. Sure, you were still half-demon, so that would eventually put a target on your back. But he could keep an eye on you from afar, make sure you’re making the right choices for yourself, as you always have.

That way, maybe you could continue to have the life you always wanted. Maybe, in time, you would find someone who would give you what he never could, maybe that someone would be able to love you the way you deserve.

“Right,” Jeonghan breathed, trying to ease the pain in his chest. “I’ll be going now,” he muttered, slowly turning around and walking down the empty alleyway, every step becoming more and more torturous to him.

You watched him walk, the movement of his body growing weaker as the distance grew. “Hey,” you called, but he did not stop. “Stranger!” you began approaching him, but his steps took him farther from you. “Stop!”

Jeonghan did, breathing raggedly. Breaking a promise was hard, and the pain was nearly lethal. He vaguely remembered you saying something about breaking promises made to demons, but the pain numbed him to his last nerve ending.

You quickly made your way over to him, noticing that his body was shaking uncontrollably. “Hey,” you sighed, gathering yourself.

“What?” Jeonghan forced out, his voice quivering as he tried to stop the tremors. He was growing feverish, but as you closed the distance, he could regain some of his composure.

“I can’t let you go,” you frowned, unable to comprehend why you were so intrigued by him.

Jeonghan laughed dazedly, it was a mad laugh but not at you, but directed towards life and its crazy way to mock him. “You must,” he replied, the feeling coiling in his throat nearly strangled him. “Go to the shelter. They’ll take you in. You could start a life far away from this fucking mess.”

“Start a life?” you parroted again. “I don’t know my name, or who I am. Don’t go. Please?”

Jeonghan searched your eyes one more time. If he could not keep his promise, then at least he would give you back your name before walking away from you once and for all. “Your name…” he choked out your name, falling on his knees from the numbing pain he felt.

“That’s my name?” you whispered, trying to keep him on his feet, but he was growing heavy in your arms. “What’s yours?”

Jeonghan shook his head slowly, his eyes glazing over as he started to lose consciousness. “No,” whispered. “Go, forget me. Forget all this.”

“Please,” you insisted. Grabbing his face as he knelt in front of you, seeing his dark eyes, his soft lips. “I know you. I know I do,” you muttered, kneeling down so you could see him face to face.

He sighed, grabbing one of your hands and pressing it gently against his cheek, closing his eyes briefly. “My name is Yoon Jeonghan,” he muttered, bracing himself for the merciless thrill of the bond snapping in place one more time.

You sucked in a breath, your body tensing as the familiar feeling returned to your bones, coursing through your veins. “Jeonghan,” you breathed.

Jeonghan kept his eyes closed but shuddered as you uttered his name, choking back a sob. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, afraid of opening his eyes. “I promised I wouldn’t walk away from you,” he slurred the words, feeling lightheaded as his forehead fell forward, bumping with yours. “I’m sorry…”

“Jeonghan,” you whispered, your hands cradling his face shifted slightly in their place, feeling his skin.

He held his breath out of fear that you might reject the bond as he did to you many months ago. He wished to keep you there for a second longer, your forehead pressed to his, even if his lucidity waned, verging closer to passing out.

But then, you ran the pad of your thumb over his bottom lip softly, making him pull back slightly, opening his eyes to see your face. Something had changed. In your eyes he found the familiarity in them, you knew him.

He whispered your name carefully, fearful. “Baby?” he breathed, right before his head lolled to one side, his body following it to the ground, where he lost consciousness.

Jeonghan woke up abruptly, disorientated. The ceiling was one he had never seen before and that induced him into a panic that pushed him to sit on the bed where he lay. Lightheaded, he understood after some seconds that he was in a motel room. And that he was completely alone.

Had he been dreaming all this time? He rose from the bed going around it to look for traces of you. But he found nothing. Breathing fitfully, he took his hands to his head, forcing himself to focus.

The door clicked softly and was pushed open cautiously. As you entered the room, you sneaked a look directly at the bed, expecting to find Jeonghan still in his sleep, your gaze swam across the room, falling upon Jeonghan, who stood frozen directly parallel to you.

“Ah, you’re awake,” you chirped, entering the room and closing the door behind you. You had half expected to find the room empty if Jeonghan had woken up alone while you went to grab something to eat.

Jeonghan remained rigid, looking at you as though afraid he might wake up from a dream again. His breathing was ragged, and his vision began to blur.

“I hope you don’t mind I took your wallet,” you said, leaving a paper bag on the chair as you removed the zipper hoodie from your shoulders. “And your hoodie.”

“Wh-what—how…” Jeonghan breathed, shaking with so many emotions at the same time it was hard to focus, it was hard for him to command the muscles of his mouth to demand the answers he needed to know.

You approached him carefully, rubbing your hands together as though anxious. “You passed out last night,” you explained, though that was obvious to him, he did not need you to say that. “And I took you here because I don’t know where you live. And I don’t have a home.”

Jeonghan took in a breath sharply, tears spilling from his eyes as he listened to your voice. He raised one hand slowly, carefully meeting your cheek to make sure you were not an illusion.

You began to worry, your eyebrows pinching together. “Was I gone too long?” you asked meaningfully, understanding that he was in shock.

Jeonghan nodded slowly, the pain in his heart pulsating when you grabbed his hand on your cheek, pressing it against your skin before you wrapped an arm around his torso, so he did the same, hugging you tightly to his body.

“I’m sorry,” you cooed softly, trying to swallow your tears as he sobbed in your arms.

“I missed you,” he muttered, his body wrapping you completely, his face hiding on the curve of your neck, his arms grabbing you tightly to the point the air started to leave your lungs.

Your heart deflated upon hearing the raw sadness in his voice. “I know,” you whispered, feeling the bond deep inside you pulsating, feeling everything he felt during these months of your absence.

“I buried you,” he whispered, shaking uncontrollably, his fingers curled around your clothes, trying to hold onto you to never let you go again.

You caressed his back gently as he shook with sobs. “I’m sorry,” you said, feeling guilty for the pain he endured while you were gone.

Jeonghan grabbed your face, still finding it hard to believe that you were there, and you were fine. “How?” he asked, his voice waning over the emotions coiling in his throat.

“I don’t know,” you whispered, circling his neck with your hands as he moved to press a long kiss on your forehead.

It did not matter, all the explanations in the world would fall short of explaining the relief Jeonghan felt. 

“I’m sorry you had to go through this,” you said, knowing that there would be no resolution to this.

“It’s okay now,” he replied, pressing his forehead on yours.

“Jeonghan,” you muttered, pulling back to see his face before asking: “Tell me what happened, please.”

He went rigid with pain in an instant, but he nodded slowly, moving to sit down on the foot of the bed to avoid growing weak in his stance. You sat beside him, reaching for his hand as though you could not keep your hands to yourself.

“Do you remember the hunters?” he asked, waiting for your confirmation and he proceeded when you nodded silently. “And do you… remember what they did to you?”

Your gaze fell out of focus as you tried to conjure the memory of the moment before your death. The memories were fragments of pain and worry; you remembered some things, and those were enough. “Yes,” you said.

Jeonghan bristled in pain slightly, but continued despite it. “You were gone for three months,” he explained, the pain from your absence still felt recent, the wound still fresh. It was baffling to him that you were now here, as though nothing had happened.

“How am I back?” you asked slowly, furrowing your brow slightly. “What did you do, Jeonghan?”

He understood at once that you were worried about what he could have done for you to return scatheless, or so you thought.

“I…” he lowered his gaze, growing ashamed of himself. “I think I summoned you in my sleep.”

“Is that possible?” you asked. “I thought you needed to do a ritual to summon me.”

 “That’s the thing,” he raised his gaze again, shifting on the bed so he could face you better. “I don’t think that applies to people like us. I didn’t need to do a ritual, I just needed to call for you.”

“So you’re telling me that you did not say my name once for three months?”

Shame returned to his face, nodding silently without looking at your eyes. “I’m sorry,” he said, his bottom lip trembling slightly. “I just couldn’t—it hurt so much,” he sighed, squeezing his eyes shut.

“Hey,” you whispered, bringing a hand to cup his cheek, forcing his brown eyes to meet yours. “It’s okay,” you showed him a light smile. “You did what you had to do.”

His eyebrows pinched softly. “Can you forgive me?” he whispered.

You sat on your knees beside him, grabbing his face fully with your hands. “There is nothing to forgive, Jeonghan,” you said warmly, pushing his long bangs away from his face. “I’m fine, and I’m here thanks to you.”

He wrapped his arms around your waist to bring you down with him to the bed. “I can’t believe that you’re back,” he said with a tiny tone. “I thought I would never see you again.”

Meanwhile, you were still trying to digest the fact that he lived through three months of mourning and guilt, while you just closed your eyes and woke up in a clearing with flowers around you. Confused, but with one thought in mind: follow the thing that pulled you to him.

Jeonghan caressed the side of your face with the back of his fingers, looking at you longingly as the pain inside him deflated slowly. “You’re half human now,” he told you, remembering the look on your face the night before.

You nodded, enjoying the gentle shivers that his touch gave you. “It feels funny,” you giggled slightly. “I’m weaker now.”

Jeonghan mirrored your smile, his fingers trailing down to grab your chin. “I guess I should be careful with you now,” he whispered, meeting your lips with his own.

The kiss ignited every single inch of your skin, drawing out a small moan from you. And for Jeonghan, it felt like he was coming back to life too, his lips searching for yours hungrily, emitting a small grunt into your mouth that only made you want more. 

“Jeonghan,” you breathed when he stopped kissing you, but his lips lingered on yours.

“I missed you,” he replied in kind, his lips brushing against yours softly.

You moved your hand to caress his chest over the black t-shirt he wore. “Do you want to show me?” you mumbled, pressing a tender kiss on his lips.

He moved his hand from your chin to cradle your cheek, looking into your eyes. Jeonghan lost count of the times he wished to be this close to you again, to feel the warmth of your skin, to breathe in your scent. Unable to break away from you, he pressed your body to the mattress, climbing on top of you while kissing your lips hungrily.

You made a muffled sound on his lips, grabbing his face to pull him as close as possible to you. Kissing Jeonghan still felt electrifying, now that you were part-human. You were still able to sense him through the bond. Everything was the same except that your senses were slightly dimmed.

“What’s that?” Jeonghan mumbled between kisses.

“It feels different,” you breathed, grabbing his shoulders, feeling the edge of his collarbone with the pads of your thumbs.

“Different, how?” he asked, his gaze coasting over the features of your pretty face.

“Like the stronger part of me is numb,” you said, showing him a meek smile when the explanation felt ridiculous to you. But your smile faded, the glint in your eyes dimming a little. “I can’t see your soul anymore.”

Jeonghan tensed slightly on top of you. “You could see my soul?”

You nodded slowly, ashamed that you never told him while you were able to see that fiery flame dancing inside him. “Sorry,” you whispered.

“It’s okay,” he replied in kind, realizing the reason behind the weird looks you would give him, you could see through him quite literally. “I wonder how many other things will be different now,” he said.

You would probably age closer to a normal rate now. You were part-human, you could fill your tummy with human food, and you were at risk of falling sick like humans but the probability of that could be minimal.

“You still like me, right?” you asked with a playful giggle.

Jeonghan rolled his eyes, smiling with you. “Unfortunately, yes. I do,” he mumbled, lacing his words with sarcasm.

“How much?” you teased, enjoying that despite you were no longer able to see his soul, he was still an open book to you.

“Shut up,” he said, leaning over to press a tender kiss on your lips, muffling the sound of your giggle. “I love you,” he mumbled.

You closed your eyes, shuddering at the sound of his voice, the bond responding to it like a bolt of lightning shooting through you. “I love you more,” you replied sweetly, still grabbing his face with your hands.

At that, Jeonghan could have sworn that the pain he endured without you was cured. He released a groan into the kiss, his lips diving deeper into yours, only breaking away when your hands slipped beneath his t-shirt, and he helped you take it off.

He followed your body when you sat up on the bed to take your t-shirt off, and he quickly moved to take your jeans and panties just so he could have you wholly naked before him. There was no rush to relieve the pressure growing inside him, he just wanted to appreciate every curve of your body, to leave kisses on every inch of your warm skin.

And you could see that need in his eyes, it was visible how much he missed you. He stood on his knees before you, looking at you for one long moment. Your heart squeezed for him when you realized that, while you were delighted to explore the changes in your now partially human form, he was healing from the grief he felt when you were gone.

“Jeonghan,” you called, snapping him from the train of thoughts reeling in his mind. His eyes met yours. “Come here,” you said, raising your arms to wrap him in them when he pressed his bare chest against yours.

“Sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” you replied, parting your legs so he could slot his hips between them. You grabbed his cheek as he left one kiss on yours. “I love you.”

“I love you,” he gasped, moving his lips to leave a trail of kisses on your jawline, and your throat, humming when he realized that the scent of your skin remained the same. He delighted in the taste of your skin when he ran his tongue on one of your breasts, wrapping his lips around your pebbled nipple to tease it a little, just to hear the sweet sound of your moans.

“Jeonghan,” you sighed, bringing a hand to grab a fistful of his dark hair.

He hummed softly, his breath fanning on your bumpy skin as he moved to lick your other nipple, kissing it and grazing it lightly with his teeth. He pressed his lips on your sternum, resuming his trail of kisses down until he sank between your legs.

“Fuck,” you breathed, finding out that despite you were not at full power as you were, you were still very much sensitive. Your skin prickled when his hands slipped beneath your thighs, holding you as he placed the first kiss of many on your inner thigh.

Propping yourself on your elbows to look at him, he raised his eyes too, meeting yours right before licking a generous stripe on your folds. A shudder invaded you, reaching every nerve ending in your body, tearing apart your self-control. Your head lolled back, a pleased sigh escaping your lips as he worked his mouth on your pussy, practically making out with it.

The sensation was near-euphoric. It made your mind go blank. It left you breathless in an instant. You suddenly felt the weight of your absence, as if your body was gently reminding you that you had gone without his touch, even if you had not been aware of it. But a part of you was sure that you never wanted to go another day without his caress.

“Jeonghan,” you called breathily, running your fingers through his long hair, letting his tongue lap between your folds, drinking you in with raw moans.

Your orgasm came fast, faster than you wanted. Your jaw went slack with a loud moan, shuddering hard as he continued eating your pussy out, watching you come undone with lewd gasps until you let your body fall back on the mattress to enjoy the short aftershocks of your climax.

When he climbed back on top of you to kiss your mouth, you moaned when you tased yourself on his lips. Reaching for the belt of his jeans, you swiftly finished undressing him, not hiding how badly you needed him.

“Hey,” he breathed, touching the tip of your nose with his own. Your eyes met his as he lowered his bare body on yours, pressing his chest against yours.

You sighed, skin prickling when you felt his hard dick on your lower tummy as he kissed you again. “Jeonghan,” you moaned into the kiss. “Hurry.”

He obliged, smiling lightly at you before sneaking his hand between your pressed bodies, grabbing his fully hard cock to guide it to your pussy. His eyes swam all over the features of your face, nudging the bulbous head of his cock in your pooling entrance.

Your mouth parted, eyes widening in anticipation when you felt him. “Please,” you mouthed, bracing yourself for the electrifying feeling.

He swallowed hard, starting to sink inside you tortuously slow, delighting himself with the look on your face, the way a gasp left your mouth. You instinctively parted your legs for him, lifting your knees to your chest for him to push inside you to the hilt, and when he did, he released a raw moan.

Jeonghan pulled his hips back, to then push his cock in your walls slowly, as if testing you. He looked at you as he sheathed his cock inside you making you feel every raw inch, the vein in the underside of his shaft, the bulbous cockhead. He breathed out a broken moan, his face contorting in pleasure.

Jeonghan moved his hips, setting a faster pace on top of you when he made sure you had adjusted to the stretch of his cock. The smacking sounds of skin against skin became louder as he quite literally pounded on you, knocking the air out of your lungs with short gasps.

“Jeonghan,” you breathed, squeezing your eyes shut as you swore that you would burst from the pleasure building inside you.

As though on command, he slowed down the rutting of his hips. He breathed fitfully against your lips, leaning his forehead on yours as he kept his thrusts gentle on you, massaging your walls slowly with his cock. “You feel so good,” he whispered, swallowing hard.

“You too,” you sighed, feeling his scarred chest with your palms, keeping your knees up for him to sink his cock deeper inside you. “So good.”

Jeonghan shook slightly, lifting his hips so his cock slipped out of you, paused, and then sheathed himself back inside you, making you feel the length of his cock, every ridge beneath his bulbous cockhead, the warmth of the base of his cock. He smiled when you moaned, gritting your teeth to hold out for him, but pleasure consumed you quickly.

“Baby,” he whispered, framing your head with his arms before leaning to kiss you. “I love you.”

It felt like his dreams came alive to haunt him in real life because for a split second, he was fearful again that this might not be real. But you moaned into the kiss, holding his shoulders with your hands to keep yourself in control. “I love you,” you breathed.

He locked his lips with yours, moaning into the kiss, keeping his thrusts at the same pace that was pushing you to the edge.

“I’m close,” you gasped, pinching your eyebrows almost involuntarily.

Jeonghan planted a loving kiss on your cheek. “Let go, baby,” he whispered. “I’ll come after you.”

“Come with me?” you mumbled.

He smiled at you. “We need to be careful now,” he whispered, pushing his lips against yours tenderly.

“I don’t want to,” you said in defiance, caressing the line of his back until your hands reached his ass, palming him as he pushed his cock inside you.

He laughed lightly, ignoring your feeble attempt at trapping him with your hands. “Do you want me to come inside you?”

You nodded eagerly, unable to speak up, keeping yourself angled for his cock massaging your walls. 

Jeonghan knew he had struck a weak point for you. He kissed you again, this time swiftly and chastely. “You wicked thing,” he breathed, pressing another kiss. “Want me to stuff you full of my cum?”

“Fuck, yes, yes, please,” you closed your eyes, inching closer to your orgasm.

He gave you an airy laugh, and you would have paid attention to it if it were not for the merciless shudder consuming you wholly. You cried out loudly as waves of pleasure washed over you, the pleasure so intense that your eyes brimmed with tears. “Jeonghan…”

Jeonghan reached to grab your hands, lacing your fingers with his, and putting them above your head as the pace of his thrusts became faster, harder. He moaned your name, making you think that he was coming with you, stuffing you full of his cum.

But then he pulled out with a raw groan, pushing his forehead against yours as he came on your tummy, ropes of warm cum spilling on your skin, dripping on your sides, trickling down your skin.

Not giving you the opportunity to protest, he kissed you. But you whined impishly in his mouth, making him laugh and press your hands on the pillows with more strength, easily overpowering you.

He stopped kissing you, pausing to look at your face. Once he saw you pouting, he started to laugh, his chest shaking against yours.

You tried to ignore what the sound of his laughter did to you. “You pulled out!” you whined, trying to free your hands from his grasp.

“We don’t know what could happen now that you’re human,” he replied with a dazzling smile.

Maybe he was right, but you just wanted to see that smile, to hear that laugh again so you continued with your childish act. “So what?”

He gave you an airy chuckle. “So what if I get you pregnant? Is that what you want?” he asked, but then something inside him shifted with the realization that it might be something you wanted.

“Maybe,” you replied, your gaze dimming but then you shook your head. “One day. Perhaps. I don’t know.”

He thought of coming up with a quippy response, but the feeling in his chest would not allow him. “Let’s get cleaned up,” he muttered.

After showering, Jeonghan sat at the foot of the bed, half-dressed and drying his long hair with a towel. He raised his eyes as you exited the tiny bathroom of the motel room, approaching him to stand between his parted knees.

“I bought us breakfast. With your money,” you smirked, putting your hands on his shoulders.

Jeonghan’s features broke into a smile. “That sounds great,” he replied, leaving aside the towel and grabbing one of your hands to press a kiss on your knuckles.

Then he gave you a look. One that spoke of months of thinking about you every day, of thinking about what he could have done with you. Life seemed so fragile to him, so fleeting after he lost you, that he kept thinking of the things he would have done differently. And now, you stood before him, a dream come true, the one wish he asked life to grant him.

“What?” you mumbled.

Jeonghan blinked repeatedly when you brought your hand to his forehead, pushing his bangs away. He smiled. “Do you like flowers?” 

› author's note: so this kind of just happened. i am obsessed with these two 😭 and can you guys believe that i wrote my first major character death scene ever because of this series? insane

toodles

support me on ko-fi?

© RIGHTS RESERVED TO HANNIEWEEN I DO NOT ALLOW TRANSLATIONS, CONTINUATIONS, REIMAGINATIONS OF MY WORKS OR THEIR REPOSTING ON OTHER WEBSITES.

[hrrtshape]

emmyyyy my master shifter queen whatd u do in this shift ?!?!?

there’s a particular high that comes with calling the grammys before they even happen just because they happened here. not clairvoyance, not leaks, just the kind of casual omniscience that comes from running a shifting tumblr with an almost suspicious level of accuracy. so yes, i called it. only then they believed that I’m from the future?? every win, every snub, every baffling industry move. the internet spiralled. i shrugged and went back to being a teenage girl.

this shift was softer, slower. the kind that seeps in rather than setting the whole place alight. new year’s to now, february 10th, was school and my boy and a thousand tiny details that i didn’t clock as significant until they were.

coryo got me a pocketbook of shakespeare’s love sonnets, the exact one from my cr, my subconscious so adamant it had to exist there too. first page: his handwriting. something about how even the bard himself didn’t have the words for it. which is a lie, obviously, but a sweet one.

right now, i’m electric because my family’s about to fly out to a resort in turkey. if you’re russian, you know. it’s canon. turquoise water, impossible sun, the kind of air that makes reality feel slightly liquified. childhood nostalgia, but with a prosecco upgrade. coryo wants to come because otherwise we wouldn’t be together for v day </3

and, also, coryo’s birthday is in two weeks. thank god i’m in my cr. no gift scramble.

the days were a mix of the usual and the cinematic.

writing essays in cafés where the coffee could resurrect the dead. city lights blurring past on long drives. nights in bookstores, fingers trailing over spines, my stack growing like an architectural hazard. early mornings tangled in conversations that made no sense but mattered anyway. cigarettes on balconies. laughing in the back of classrooms.

didn’t fly out anywhere, didn’t have any major drama.

nothing earth-shattering. nothing groundbreaking. just that calmness. cried, laughed, smiled, bla bla bla. lived.

did i change a lot? no idea. brain’s a little scrambled. i mean, five months there, two weeks here. it’s time dilation, it’s existential whiplash. so, honestly? tbd.

[genshin-impact-updates]

"As the Blazing Sun" Event: Complete the Story Quest Within the Specified Duration to Obtain Additional Rewards

Travelers who reach the required Adventure Rank and complete the prerequisite quests will be able to use a Story Key to unlock Mavuika's Story Quest "Sol Invictus Chapter."

Complete the Story Quest within the specified duration to obtain additional Primogems, Character Ascension Materials, Character Level-Up Materials, Natlan regional specialties, and other rewards.

The Story Quest feature is unlocked at Adventure Rank 26. Story Keys are obtained by claiming Daily Commission rewards (one Story Key is awarded for every eight Daily Commission rewards claimed).

〓Quest Start Time〓

After the Version 5.3 update

〓Specified Duration〓

After the Version 5.3 update – 2025/01/21 17:59

〓Quest Unlock Criteria〓

Adventure Rank 28 or above

Complete Archon Quest Chapter V: Act V "Incandescent Ode of Resurrection"

※ In the current version, once you reach Adventure Rank 28 and complete Archon Quest Chapter I: Act III "A New Star Approaches," you can use the "Quick Start" function to unlock Archon Quest Chapter V: Act I "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" and continue progressing up to the latest Archon Quest introduced in the current version update.

[gaysindistress]

Limits of a Fae Heart - five

Pairings: Azriel x Reader Summary: With war looming over their heads, the Inner Circle is desperate for a solution. The one they found comes in the form of a resurrected female who’s fated to not only their Shadowsinger but once to their enemy as well. Word count: 3.4k Warnings: reader is AFAB, mentions of the female body/parts, cursing, sexual content (p in v), spitting but it's hot, choking, slight dom/sub vibes, I'm actually awful at tagging things but there's smut. for the love of all things holy, do not read if you are a minor. One | two | three | four | six

taglist: @dr4g0ngirl @isa1b2h3 @sidthedollface2

Cassian has made it known several times that the tension between Azriel and I is getting on his nerves. He’s not so casually told us to get a room many times since the morning he interrupted us. It’s truly only been a couple of days but with just the three of us to keep each other company, we’re all starting to go a little mad. 

Then again watching an abandoned camp for days on end because your high lord said so would do that to anyone.

By the fourth day of watching and edging closer to the camp with absolutely nothing to show for it, Cassian approaches me as I’m sitting by the fire, trying to warm my stiff body. He plops himself down next to me and lets out a dramatic sigh as he leans back on his hands. I don’t spare him a glance and he lets out another sigh. I look over at him to see him already giving me a playful but annoyed look. 

“Yesss?” I ask as I stick my hands closer to the flames.

“When are we going to be done with this boring stake out? The camp has been abandoned for close to a week now and unless I’m blind, there’s no reason for us to be here anymore.”

“If you’re asking to go home, just ask.”

“Fine, can I go home? You and Azzie boy can stay here and stare lustfully at each other all you want but I would like to go home and have a proper bath.”

Right on cue, Azzie Boy materializes out of a pocket of shadows and glances between the two of us. A hint of jealous shots down the bond as he takes in how close Cassian and I are. It quickly disappears as Cassian scoots over with a loud huff. 

“Well what’s your answer?” he demands lightheartedly and an arched brow.

Azriel narrows his eyes at his brother and sits across from us, the flames illuminating every inch of his sun kissed face. 

“I planned on going into the camp tomorrow and if I found nothing, then we could leave but I think Azriel and I can handle it ourselves,” I say looking from Cassian to Azriel, who’s already staring at me. He was probably wondering what Cassian was referring to but realization relaxes his face and he nods in agreement. 

Cassian claps his hands together, “Alright it’s settled then. Don’t kill each other and I’ll see you two tomorrow!”

It’s almost pitiful how excited he is to return to Velaris but it’s even more pathetic how quickly he’s on his feet and flying away. 

Azriel leans back against the fallen tree that lays behind him and props one leg up as his shadows drop an apple into his awaiting palm. He’s purposely staying silent; baiting me to initiate conversation and toying with me by pulling out his beloved Truth Teller and using it to carve the red fruit with impressive precision.

His shadows dance around me meanwhile a few brave and handsy ones find their way under my sweater and undershirt and nuzzle against my bare skin. I gasp at their snuggly behavior and go to shake them out when his voice stops me. 

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” 

“What does that mean?”

He chuckles as he eats a piece of apple off of the truth teller. “They don’t like when you push them away. Puts them on edge and then they don’t listen to anyone.”

I don’t heed his warning and shake them out anyways, causing them to let out a sound akin to a growl. They immediately find their way back under my clothes and practically mold themselves to my body so I can’t get rid of them so easily again. 

“Told you.”

“By the cauldron,” I groan as I attempt to swat them away, “tell them to leave me alone. They’re freezing.”

He stops his carving and looks at me curiously, tilting his head to the side slightly as his hazel eyes rake over me. “And why would I do that? They’re perfectly fine where they’re at.”

I send him an annoyed glare before I climb to my feet and walk towards the tent for another night of restlessness.

“Where are you going, sweet girl?”

“What have I said about calling me that?”

He doesn’t say anything, just stares at me with an intense gaze and an almost feral smirk.

“And where does it look like I’m going? To bed obviously,” I say in a clipped tone and gesture to the tent. 

“No you’re going to lay there and flop around until the crack of dawn. Come here.” The shadows imprinted onto me do their singer’s bidding and push me back towards him. 

“Excuse me!”

He cuts off what was inevitably going to be a tepid attempt at a lecture from me. “Enough of that. Come sit next to me.”

With the shadows wrapped tightly around me and pulling at me, I don’t exactly have a choice but follow their lead. They finally ease up when I’m sitting beside him, almost shoulder to shoulder and he offers me a slice of apple. 

“What’s that look for?” he asks when I look between him and the slice with a scrunched up expression.

“When did you become so commanding?”

“You have a problem with it?”

I roll my eyes at the way his plump lips are turned up in a smile and are parted to show off his perfect teeth. “I have a problem with males who think they can tell me what to do. You of all people should know that doesn’t go over well with me.”

“Maybe but I’m not just any other male now am I?”

“Yes you are.”

I go to take the slice but he pulls it away, clicking his tongue at me. “Open your mouth, pretty girl,” he murmurs to me and I know it’s a challenge designed to test my resolve.

The nickname and his low timbre sets something ablaze in me and I know I stand no chance in beating my him. His win comes in the form of my lips parting to allow the sticky sweet slice to greet my awaiting tongue. He tracks my every movement, intently watching as its juice wets my lips and my tongue cleans it up.

“It’s my job to anticipate people’s next move but you?” Azriel says with a shake of his head and goes back to carving pieces out of his half eaten apple. “Just when I think I have you figured out, you do the exact opposite of what I expected. It should frustrate me but it doesn’t. Why do you think that is, sweet girl?”

“Maybe you’re bad at your job,” jumps out with my breathy voice and he blinks at me with an arched brow. “Perhaps it’s for the better if you find a new profession or stop treating me like one of your targets. You’ll stop disappointing yourself that way.”

“Now I never said that it was disappointing.” he chides and grabs my chin when I try to look away from his soul blazing gaze, “It keeps me on my toes, never really knowing what you’re going to do.” 

“You really are like every other male; needing to be challenged but not enough to make you feel lesser. You all have this need to control.” I whisper and let my gaze fall to his lips briefly, “I’ve already told you and quite frankly shown you that I’m not one to fall in line because a pretty face told me to.”

He searches my face for a hint of humor as he holds me in place. Testing me, he leans into me and when I think he’s going to kiss me, I let my eyes flutter closed only for him to draw back. From beneath my lashes, I see a feral smirk break across his face. 

“You think I have a pretty face?”

“That’s what you took from that?”

“Answer the question.”

“You’re infuriating beautiful and I hate looking at…”

Azriel silences me with a hungry kiss, our hands desperately searching for something to hold onto as our tongues collide against each other and drink in the other’s sweet taste. His lips are soft as they slide against my own while his hands feel jagged tangling into my hair. Cold metal presses into my scalp and I can’t say that I’m surprised he didn’t drop his beloved truth teller when he launched himself at me.

My hands find their place on his chest and the nape of his neck, slowly making their way into his mess of dark waves. The soft noises that rumble through his chest when I tug at his hair emboldened me and I sharply pull, forcing him to let me lead.

He does for a moment. That is until he is shadows that are still wound around me, something I forgot about, trace over the raised lines of my hidden wings. A whimper falls from me and Azriel hungrily laps it up using his shadows to drag me into his lap. My arms wind around his neck while letting out a surprised noise when I feel his confined cock against me. We break away and that’s when I realize my breathing is so heavy that I’m almost panting but Azriel is no better. He tilts his head up again to playful nip at my bottom lip, trapping it between his teeth before letting it go and kissing the red mark on it.

I hear myself whine at the loss of his lips and heated touch but I can’t find it in myself to care. I’m slipping into the abyss of lust that is between us and pulling tight at our bond and it feels absolutely amazing. 

He’s growing cockier by the minute much to my dismay. “If you’re this flushed after a few kisses, I can’t imagine how you’d look after I’m done with you.”

With a flash of silver in the fire light, the truth teller is safely tucked away again and both of his hands come to grip my hips. He dips his head to plant wet kisses across my jaw and whispers against the supple skin of my neck, “but tell me, pretty girl, do you want that?”

Words feel pointless, coiled in my throat and morph into something else while they come out in the form of broken whines. 

“Come on, beautiful, use your words.”

I quietly mumble “yes” and let out a high pitched whine when he sucks a bruise over my pulse. He mumbles something like “good girl” as his shadows engulf us and my back hits the cold mat of my bed roll with him slotted between my legs. 

Azriel continues his attack on my neck and I lean my head to the side to grant him more access but not without teasing him. “Couldn’t walk ten feet?”

He runs his tongue up the column of my neck. “Are you complaining?” he shots back with a bold flick of his tongue of my ear lobe before taking it between his lips, sucking and nibbling on it. 

“N..no,” I try to say as my body shudders when he starts to roll his hips into mine. 

I vaguely hear his voice but I’m too caught up in the feeling of his clothed cock pressing into my core. A forceful grip on my jaw drags my attention to the male above me; his wings are flared behind him while his shadows dance around the room and curl against the both of us. Those gorgeous dark waves fall around his sculptured face and he gazes down at me with those hooded hazel eyes. 

“Keep talking to me, sweet girl. I want to hear you no matter what, understand?

I barely nod and it’s not good enough for him. He squeezes my cheeks and doubles down on his original question, “I said ‘keep talking’. I need you to tell me that you understand. That you’ll stop me if it gets to be too much.”

“Yes! Gods, yes Azriel I understand!” I moan out, already running out of patience as I arch my back and roll my hips into his, matching his pace as best as I can. 

“That’s a good girl,” he whispers before continuing his trail of blazing kisses down my neck.

I go to drag my hands down his neck but his shadows are quick to grab them and pin them above my head. He chuckles at my frustration and feeble attempts to pull my hands free as he sits back on his hunches.

With only the fire light from outside to illuminate the tent, Azriel looks like a god above me. The power that radiates off of him commands the flames to perfectly bathe every inch of his taunt and towering body. His blue siphons shimmer in the dim light, reflecting my own pathetic state back at me. If I could I would’ve turned over so I wouldn’t have to see the satisfaction on his face as he gazes down at me completely at his mercy. He makes a disapproving sound as he gently takes a leg in his hand, caressing my thigh and calf before stopping at my boots.

“You’re not going shy on me now are you, beautiful?” He murmurs against my ankle, kissing each inch he reveals as he tugs off my boot.

“Fuck you,” I choke out when more shadows join in. They replace his warm touch when he’s moved on, kneading where his hands once were and licking at the places his kisses have grown cold. Being so thoroughly surrounded by him is intoxicating and I find myself going dumb before he’s even touched me.

“Already doing that, sweetheart.”

Gods this fucking male.

Azriel repeats his actions with my other leg and moves to my pants next. We watch each other with half lidded eyes as he takes his time unlacing them and deliberately brushes his long fingers against the bare skin at my waist. When he starts the painstakingly slow motion of pulling them down my thighs, the damned shadows crawl up my torso. They drag his sweater and my thin long sleeve up my body, helping me to pull it off before tugging my bra down to shamelessly play with my breasts, groping and kneading at the tender skin.

The Shadowsinger’s eyes are blown wide, leaving only black in the place of the golden hazel as he watches them play with me. A long sinful moan is pulled from me when the shadows tug at my nipples and it seems to snap him back to reality. He pulls my pants off completely and inhales sharply when he sees the rapidly growing wet spot on my underwear. His eyes flutter closed as the scent of my arousal invades his nostrils and when they open, a fire is blazing in them. He looks devastatingly handsome staring at that spot like it’s the first glimpse of water he’s seen after weeks in the desert. 

“Beautiful, absolutely beautiful,” he mumbles more to himself while he slides his hands up to my knees and lowers himself to lay on his stomach before me. Another pair of shadows wrap around my thighs, preventing them from closing when he lightly runs his fingers over my clothed core. I writhe and struggle against my restraints with a loud huff, halting the male between my legs. 

 “Talk to me, sweet girl,” he asks in an affectionate tone, searching my face as he rests his head against the inside of my thigh. The same soothing sensation strokes at our bond and my face flushes even more as I search for the words. “What do you want?”

Light kisses are littered on my thigh as I stutter, “more… I need more.”

“More what?” he asks, forcing me to say exactly what I want. As he speaks he les his warm and wet tongue drag across the sensitive skin of my inner thigh. “More what?” he asks again with a mischievous smirk taunt on his bitten lips as he licks directly over my covered slit.

“Touch me more, Az please.” It feels terribly pathetic to beg him and I’d cover my face if the shadows weren’t tightening their hold on my wrists. 

My mate immediately drags his thick tongue over the thin fabric covering my core and mouthes at me through it. He circles my hole before flicking the tip of his tongue over my clit. Desperate please build in my chest while my brain turns to mush having him so close to where I need him but just out of reach. It’s beyond frustrating and he knows it, smirking and chuckling at me in my disheveled and starving state.

Whimpers and whines grow into loud pleas and sinfully wanton moans as he works his tongue over the soaked fabric. After about the fourth time he nearly touches my clit, I start to realize that my wordless begging isn’t going to spur him into removing the offending piece of clothing. He wants words but I won’t let myself beg again just yet.

So I try the bond, sending every ounce of lust and desire that I have down to him. His only reaction is a slight quiver of his wings and an airy chuckle against my core. 

“Nice try, sweetheart but that wasn’t what i told you to do. Remind me, what did I tell you?”

He’s completely stopped using his tongue and has moved to dragging his fingers up and down my slit.

I throw my head back with a growl at the loss of stimulation. My heart feels like it’s going to beat right out of my chest and I squeeze my eyes shut, willing it to calm down so I can think straight. The shadows are quicker than me and stop any thinking I may have done with another harsh pinch to each nipple.

“Until you can tell me exactly what you need, I’m perfectly happy to keep bringing you to the edge over and over again.”

“Fuck,” I curse under my breath. “Fuck me with your tongue, fingers, I don’t care. Just fucking get on with it already, Az.” 

“Now was that so hard?”

I go to snap at him however I’m cut short by him kissing the juncture of my thigh before he pulls my underwear to the side and lightly laps at my soaked folds. He starts slow, kitten licking and teasing me to gauge my reactions. With the shadows around my thighs, I don’t have a lot of range but I’m able to move my hips against his face enough to get some relief.

Azriel takes pity on me and his tongue, wide and rough, finds my clit the moment he licks a decisive strip up my core. His mouth becomes glued to me as he brings me closer and closer to the edge. That feeling in my lower stomach grows tighter when he sucks on my clit and pulls back to blow on it. Throwing my head back, moans fall unhindered and my hips start to move wildly against his mouth.

More shadows find their way around me, caressing and kneading everywhere they can touch. Some tangle into my hair, pulling at the strands while others grope my ass only adding to the bliss that is Azriel’s expert tongue working me into oblivion. 

He brings a hand up to let his fingers circle my hole, collecting my wetness before plunging two fingers in. He smirks against me after my hips falter and he slips his free arm under me, holding my hips up so he can bury his face into me even further. I whine and mewl as Azriel circles my clit and flicks it in time to the come hither motion he’s making with his fingers inside me.

“Az…Az, oh gods, I’m gonna..gonna cum,” I cry out. His shadows double down on their groping and massaging while he doesn’t let up eating me out like a man starved. He watches my orgasm crash over me through half lidded eyes and I try as best as I can to keep eye contact however my own eyes feel heavier than ever before. 

Azriel whispers words of reassurances and praises against my heated skin as he kisses his way back up to me. The shadows around my thighs loosen and draw light circles where their bruising grip once was. The ones on my wrists relax and caress the sore muscles from being held above my head.

“You did so well, sweet girl. So good for me,” he mumbles between labored breaths that mirror mine. I nod in agreement, cupping his face and pulling him down for a much slower kiss than before.

“So perfect, made for me…taking everything I give you,” he mutters against my lips. His wings shake out above us and mine feel like they’re about to do the same when one of the shadows dances over where they’re melding into my body.

He lets his body settle against me, once again letting his hips press into mine but now it’s unbearable. Im still sensitive and the feeling of his leather covered cock against me drags broken sobs from my chest. Like the teasing male he is, Azriel shushes me against my lips as one of his hands finds my thigh and urges my leg over his hip. With my leg around his waist, he moves us at a pace that makes us both moan into our kiss. He drops his hand next to my head while the other comes to rest on my throat, tilting my head back when he pulls away and drags his thumb over my puffy bottom lip.

“Such a pretty mouth,” he growls, staring lustfully at the way that my tongue swirls around the tip of his thumb. I suck at it and he pushes between my lips, allowing me to work it with my tongue like I would his cock. His eyes darken when I release it with a pop and a string of saliva connects us.

A heavy weight constricts my chest and pushes all of the air out of breath thanks to the tsunami of burning desire that Azriel sends to me. “Open up, sweet girl.” 

With our hips grinding slowing down and moving into a lazy, occasional jolt of pleasure, I obey. Without being told, I rest my tongue on my bottom lip, a silent agreement to what he’s about to do.

Azriel’s cock twitches against me as he spits into my mouth and I swallow it with a satisfied smirk. He curses under his breath and his cock twitches again.

And this is when we find ourselves in a rather unfortunate situation; he’s fully clothed while I’m bare save for my bra that’s been pulled under my breasts.

My pawing at his chest gives him the hint and he leans back to quickly rid himself of his leathers while his shadows keep me entertained. They flick and pinch at my pebbled nipples while sneaking down to rub me through my underwear.

The moment his clothes are off, I push myself up and climb into his lap to wrap myself around him. I kiss him like he’s the air that I need and he matches me in pace and passion.

Droplets of sweat race down his broad tattooed chest and his hair is messy and tangled. His arms, perfect matches to his chest, broad, muscular and tattooed are wrapped around me, keeping me in place as he ruts into me. He rocks his aching cock against my barely covered puffy and oversensitive clit while we devour one and other. His breath hitches in his throat when I grind down on him and my nails scrap against the base of his wings. 

“Do…do that again,” he whimpers into our kiss and I happily oblige.

I start with lightly dragging my nails against the base again before moving up the ridge of his wings. The barely there touch is enough to make him groan out and break our kiss to throw his head back in pleasure. I take my chance to assault his neck with my own kisses and bites when I repeat the motions to his wings. His hips stutter under me as my delicate touch combined with the hardness of his aching cock become too overwhelming.

Azriel groans out, frustrated that there’s still a layer of thin fabric separating us and seconds later, I feel the cold tip of the truth teller slice through my underwear. His shadows remove them from between us while he holds my hips in a bruising grip to rub my wetness against him. Back and forth, he drags the head of his cock through my folds, stealing desperate moans from my swollen lips. 

“Az,” I whine as I feel his thick tip catch against my clit, “please Az.”

He coos to me as if he’s being sweet as he continues to torture me. “Please what, sweet girl?”

“Fuck me Azriel,” comes out in broken sobs when he lines himself up and snaps his hips up, fully sheathing his thick cock in my warm heat. He waits for me to adjust to his size, only moving when I wiggle against him. He sets a brutal pace, fucking up into me in calculated and determined thrusts. The near painful hold he had on me is grounding as he pumps his dick into me and I cry out as pleasure starts to build into a second orgasm.

He pulls out only to guide me lay on my side to the bed roll and drags me against his chest, slipping in from behind. Wrapping one heavily tattooed muscular arm around my neck, he lets the other come to wrap around my middle and play with my puffy clit. The corded muscles are flexing as he holds me in place against him, ensuring that I have no choice but to take his thick cock. 

“I want everyone in Velaris to hear you,” he grunts against my ear as he sets a cruel pace from behind me. Downright sinful sounds fall from my permanently open mouth and his own beautiful sounds fill my ears when my core throbs and clenches around him.

“You can be louder, pretty girl,” he urges me while tightening his already unyielding grip around my neck. My hands sink into his arm, leaving red marks in their wake as I cry out, body trembling and writhing against him.

I tilt my head back to rest against his shoulder as we continue to move against each other. His cock drags against my walls in a painful way and my eyes flutter shut from the white hot pleasure it brings me. I’m pulsing around him and pleading with him to come with me. 

“Shush, pretty girl. Let me take care of you. Come for me, beautiful. I know you need to,” his breath feels like an inferno in my ear and I involuntarily moan at his praise. I know I can’t possibly be seen as anything other than a mess; tears streak my face and sweat collects in my hairline but none of that stops Azriel, my mate, from praising every inch of me. 

The last sharp thrust and caress of his tongue against my neck are what push me over the edge as my hands dig into his arm. His own release is almost upon him as his thrusts falter and he goes to pull out but my hand darts behind me and grips his hip.

“Come…with me.”

A dark chuckle rumbles through his chest, “you want me to come in you, pretty girl? You want me to mark you with my cum? Make it so every male who ever comes near you smells me? Is that what you want?”

“Yes, gods yes yes…please…come with me…please come in me.”

My begging sparks him to snap his hips even harder than before as he works us through our orgasms together. Both sweet and humiliating words continue to pour from his mouth between his kisses as he alternates between licking and biting at my lips. His arm loosens around my neck and shifts to cup my shoulder instead while the other grasps my hip.

“You did so well, sweet girl. So proud of you, took me so well,” he murmurs, nuzzling his face into my neck while our highs start to come down and our breathing slows. Finally our bond feels content; overjoyed that we are together and basking in the raw affection we have for each other.

I know that there is a part of it that won’t be satisfied until we accept it, until I accept him and offer him a meal that I made just for him. 

My heart skips a beat when that thought crosses my mind however this time it’s out of panic. What if’s and past traumas flash in my mind, no doubt flooding the bond with seemingly unwarranted anxiety. 

I try to pull away from Azriel but he holds me as he whispers softly from behind me, “Stay with me, my sweet girl. You’re crashing and you need affection right now. Let me help you through it.”

Panic sinks its talons into me even further, causing my heart to race, my breathing to grow too fast, the feeling of slipping into thick water without a way out to overcome. Tears spring from my eyes again and his voice sounds muffled even though it’s right next to me. 

“Breath with me.” His chest rises and falls against my back and my body falls into sync with it. The bond fills me with nothing but adoration and pure contentment, pushing away the crashing low I had begun to slip into.

“Good, just follow my breathing, just like that. You did so well, I’m so proud of you. Keep breathing with me and let me take care of you, beautiful. Let me give you the affection you need.”

For the first time ever in my life possibly, I feel safe. I feel safe in the arms of this mysterious Shadowsinger. I feel protected, cared for, and loved by Azriel, my mate.

[hobiinobs]

This is absolutely based on my very limited understanding of Tarot, but I thought it might be fun to map characters from The Locked Tomb on to the major arcana. Please if you disagree tell me who you would put where.

0 - The Fool - Paul

I - The Magician - Augustine The First

II - The High Priestess - Cytherea The First

III - The Empress - Mercymorn The First

IV - The Emperor - John Gaius

V - The Hierophant - Gideon The First

VI - The Lovers - Camilla & Palamedes

VII - The Chariot - Coronabeth Tridentarius

VIII - Strength - Pyrrha Dve

IX - The Hermit - Ortus Nigenad

X - The Wheel of Fortune - The Resurrection Beasts

XI - Justice - We Suffer

XII - The Hanged Man - Gideon Nav

XIII - Death - Harrowhark Nonagesimus

XIV - Temperance - Dulcinea Septimus

XV - The Devil - Ianthe Tridentarius

XVI - The Tower - Commander Wake

XVII - The Star - Abigail Pent

XVIII - The Moon - Anastasia The First

XIX - The Sun - Kiriona Gaia

XX - Judgment - Alecto

XXI - The World - Nona

[satcnus]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ       𝐒𝐘𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐑𝐘

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆. ex-military widower ✖ runaway stray

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐒. older protective male x vulnerable teen fem. widower x runaway. paternal elements within romance. male saviorism. size differences. opposites attract. ride or die. hurt, comfort, healing. v-rginity loss. dead dove do not eat.

𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐆𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! The following original fiction contains potentially triggering content, including: extreme age gap, homicide, child and spousal death, kidnapping, s-xual as-sault (background only), r-pe recovery, child abuse (background only), post-traumatic stress disorder and disabling mental illness, and mild ddlg themes (clothing, nicknames). Read at your own discretion.

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓.  CH TWO:  253  CH THREE:  1.8k

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐗:   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐍 𝐀𝐎𝟑. 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑.

It was happening again. 

All of the wood he’d just chopped was sitting in wait by the fireplace, ready to be added, log by log, to sustain heating the cabin. Reuven was staring at the meal he’d made. Potato latkes, a side of roasted carrots, a hunk of seared venison. He was staring at it and unable to make out its details. 

All he could see was his daughter. His toddler, Kuna, and her big, giggly smile. Her bushy, dark hair, so similar to his own. Her gleeful, innocent squeal, as she hugged around his neck. He could almost still feel her tiny hands, those sharp, toddler fingernails, digging into his shoulder. He could almost still feel her curls, too fluffy for their own good, pushing into his nose and mouth and him smoothing it all out of the way. 

It could have been a happy memory if not for the implication. If not for the fact that he would never hear her laugh again. Or her toddler’s mumble english. Or her comforted, happy sigh of I love you, Papa . 

Never again.

To take a man’s children from him was nothing short of torture. 

And Reuven was not a surrendering man. 

The plate of food was left to go cold on the dining table. The front door slammed with a thud. His rusting, deep green Chevy roared to life. 

And he went out barreling into the night, in search of resurrection, again.

The night goes on forever, flanked by rows of towering pines that blur into smears of green and midnight as his truck barrels through the nightfall. Headlights divide fog like the call of a lighthouse on the murky shore. Entrenched in darkness, so little can be seen. The sun has long since lowered and resigned to its successor—or, perhaps, predecessor, depending on who was asked. Reuven considered the moon, high and mighty in the sky, to be something holy. Independent of all other existences, and concomitantly, soul-tied to the same. 

Its power dragged the waves of an ocean insurmountable in its plane. The moon—to Reuven Aronov, was the tether that held him together on nights like these, where he threatened to unravel right before its spotlight. It kept the seams of his being tugged tight and withstanding, until he could reach his destination, and fall into that resignation of his plight. No more fighting. No more redirecting his thoughts and speaking silent hymns to lull his resent. No—no more mitigating. No more holding it together.

Just giving in. Just finding rapture, beneath the moon’s knowing gaze—the only gaze of witness—while he unraveled. All wild huffs and rabid blows. It was not delight—it was catharsis. It was spiritual. The splatter of blood back on his face. A fist that ached and pummeled anyway. A dying breath. A triumph, a relief, a resurrection. 

He had not seen the nameless victim yet. He had not heard his voice. Or perhaps it would be a woman, though it never was. 

Still, he could feel the relief of it so close, lingering beneath his fingertips as they clutched the steering wheel. One hand at its 2’o’clock. The other loosely, unconsciously, clenched at his side. 

It was a meditation. Better—a trance. There was nothing but the forest, him, and the moonlight. And that road—it stretched on forever. Not a single other car had passed for miles. His ETA was somewhere around thirty minutes, maybe less. He didn’t need a gps to tell him so. This commute was burned into his psyche; etched into the grooves of his downtrodden mind. Hazy, and yet, fang sharp. 

It was only a glint in the fog.

He was listening to the wind’s rage, battering against the sound of the truck’s engine, rusted and worn and growling for retreat. He was listening to the wind, and his breaths, and the symphony behind his eyes, of sweet consequence. The kind that felt more nourishing than anything he’d ever felt wash down upon him before. The kind of karma that only Gods and the algorithmic universe could deliver.

And himself, on nights like this. 

But then there it was—that movement in his peripheral vision. 

He thought it was a deer, and automatically, his boot found the resistance of his brake pedal. Enough to slow his barrelling inertia and allow him to see that the figure he’d seen was not that of animal, but of a human. Meandering down the side of the road in the pitch dark, a billowing of cold, pale breath to offer the only contrast against a dark silhouette. 

At first he thought it was a shorter man, but as he squinted he noticed a mane of dark hair, whipping around feminine features in no protection from the elements. She was hidden under an impressive layering of fabrics—two hooded jackets and a backpack was all he could definitely make out. 

Then, in the last second, where his headlights caught the trajectory of her grimace—a haunted, dark gaze. Hollowed out and stripped of all its worth. His abdomen tensed. 

Should he stop?

He never stopped. Not while he was on his way to the bar. Not for hitchhikers.

But was she? A hitchhiker? 

She didn’t have her thumb out. In fact, she didn’t look like she had even registered another human was on the road at all. And that road—it stretched on for miles. 

How long had she been walking?

Snow piled up in heaps at the edges of where asphalt met sediment. The person’s legs were dragging as they tried to navigate around the largest of them. Reuven, for a moment, tore away from his dissociation and landed sturdy in the present. 

For just a flash of a second, he remembered his Chedva, dejected and dragging her feet after a loss at her soccer game, cursing the world for being so cruel. He remembered his nurturing retort, and the shift in her expression, from something that made him ache wretchedly with empathy to something thankful and replenished. 

His own breath found the cold air that had leached its way through the closed windows, once, twice. And then, he slowed down.

He didn’t have to offer much, he bargained with himself. He told himself he’d offer her a ride, somewhere on the way, and be back toward his original destination in no time, and his conscience wouldn’t suffer. He wouldn’t be up all night, haunted by that look in the girl’s eyes, knowing he could have done something. Knowing she could have been thankful, and replenished. 

The man pulled in beside the stranger in a slow crawl, his truck rumbling loudly against the night. She had not seemed to realize he was there at all, until he rolled down his window and called out to her. 

Maybe he would get lucky, and she would reject his offer.

“Hey! You alright? You need a ride somewhere?”

She lifted her head, finding his eyes, with those hollow, haunted orbs that matched his so well. 

Her lips were chapped to the point of bleeding. Her mouth dry—he could see it in the way she swallowed, tacky, at her own tongue. Her skin was pale, despite its tan. And for a long moment, they shared this pregnant silence, where there was nothing but the sound of his truck, and their eyes, staring into one another. 

Then, she tried to say something, but it came out so quietly, he couldn’t hear it. 

“What?” he asked, yanking his gear into park. She was trembling beneath the layers of clothing she wore, which he quickly realized were drenched after he took a glance down from her eyes. He didn’t register it, but she was still staring, unyieldingly, at his face, and at his hands. 

Something suddenly came over him. This… protectiveness. This need to help her, strong enough to leave him abandoning all concept of continuing his trip down past Quinalt. He driver’s side door swung open harshly with the drag of the wind as he stepped out, and rounded around the front bumper of the truck, where he only then realized she had taken an automatic step back from him. That hallowed look in her eyes had quickly transformed into fear.

He halted.

Lifted his palms up, in armistice. 

His breaths came out as puffs against the cold, just as hers did, though his were stronger, from lungs that were already long warmed. 

“I ain’t gon’ hurt you. I just—” Fuck. He didn’t know how to do this. It had been so long since he’d even had a conversation. When was the last time he’d spoken to someone? A couple weeks, at least. His own baritone, deep and husky, sounded foreign to his ears.

His tongue swiped at his lip, and then he momentarily bit at his top lip, his arms falling harmless at his sides. Then he suddenly shrugged off his jacket, and extended his arm forth, offering it to her. “If you don’t want a ride—at least take my jacket. It’s—it’s barely twenty degrees out here.” That was putting it generously. The wind chill had brought the temperature to an arctic real-feel of eleven degrees. It lifted the dark, disheveled curls from his prominent profile. It whipped her dampened, dark tresses against her throat. 

She stared only at the jacket for a moment, trembling and buckling under the weight of her pack, before she tried to reach out for it, but some force other than her body seemed to hold her back. The girl made this noise—some strained, high whimper, and seemed to crutch down into her ribs, curling her abdomen into itself, her pack higher onto her shoulders. Her breaths came in sharper. Noticeable. Gasping.

Reuven quickly found himself throwing caution to the wind, and closing the distance between them to all but haul his fire hose jacket around her form, which he only realized was quite a lot more petite than what met the eye when his jacket weighed into all of those wet clothes.

“Come on. I’ll take you wherever you need. You shouldn’t be out in this cold,” he found himself ascertaining, as though he weren’t just wagering whether or not to pull over at all just moments ago. 

The girl nodded, numbly, and he nodded back, readied, and took it upon himself to yank open the truck’s door. As she tried to take a step, her arm planted securely around her abdomen, she seemed to buckle beneath the weight of her bag, which he quickly helped take the burden of. In the revelation of his headlights, he realized two things: she was filthy, like she’d been weathering the elements for days, and… she was young. Young enough to still have a layer of baby fat upon her cheeks, despite the gauntness of everything else. Young enough to have eyes that held an innocence, somewhere deep within, that hadn’t been scratched out and stomped away by the world like his had. It reminded him of his daughter. She couldn’t have been older than twenty-five.

The girl, frail as a baby bird, staggered into the passenger seat until she buckled under the weight of her multitude of jackets and what could only be properly described as tattered, dirty rags. Like a kitten, who’s voice has gone hoarse from crying for so long, the stranger’s limbs seemed to suddenly go limp at the first opportunity of relief. He could see her shivering beneath the wet slop of mismatched clothes she was buried beneath; trembling from a cold that had nestled down into her bone marrow and coiled around her joints. The rush of warm air cascading from his truck’s vents must have felt like salvation.

He felt a sudden tug in his chest, of something that had been so lost to him for so long. What exactly—he could not pinpoint. It was something of human nature. Something that expelled all thoughts of his previous plans for the night. 

With a sense of urgency, he tossed her bag in the back seat and rounded back into the driver’s, back into the sanctuary of heat, where he glanced over to find her curling into herself against the comfort of the objectively firm seat. Her breaths were leaving her chest in these struggling huffs that somehow sounded enduring and relieved all at once.

She only found his eyes again after a long moment of struggling for that homeostasis between oxygen and carbon dioxide, and when her breaths slowed, and she found her voice again, she whispered. “Just the next fill-up is fine.”

Reuven stared back, incredulously.

How long had she been out here?

[roseofhybrids]

Headcanon about the godhood au: the most radical of the Cyn-worshipping ones have made several attempts to ressurrect their dark lord by uploading Cyn's mind from Uzi into themselves, and only a single group have managed to get close enough to do so and they got caught partway through, but they got far enough to get infected with the solver and become able to remotely communicate with Cyn.

I could definitely see an incident like that being part of the reason why Uzi, N, and V live in the bunker without any other drones

it's not like it's completely forbidden for drones to enter there. I imagine some of the rooms towards the entrance get used by the devotees for a variety of things like meeting places, performing rites, storing offerings and artifacts, et cetera

but deeper in, you can only enter if you receive some sort of invitation for the sake of privacy and security. Which, an incident like this could definitely warrant that type of security As for the drones who managed to get themselves infected, I could see them getting a version similar to what disassembly drones have. Leaving them with a need for oil and sensitivity to sunlight

not that they'd ever see the sun again after pulling a stunt like that like, I'm no legal expert, but I feel like breaking into god's house to try and resurrect the devil will get you a life sentence in a theocracy

[symphonicsoul]

⋆⁺₊⋆ 𖤓 ⋆⁺₊⋆ He doesn't know who this man is but he can't help but think he's a bit odd. What with the way he looks and with that mask he's wearing. There's a strange aura to him and he doesn't like the way he's looking at him.

"H- have I been resurrected?"

It's the only thing he can think to ask as he tries to get his wits about him. The man raises an arm and gives him a half bow as if he is already aware of the royalty he is before replying.

"Yes, My Lord Madoushi."

And he can't say he's fond of that. Madoushi? He is a swordsman and he does possess magic and he doesn't see how that would give him such a title but this man has raised him from the dead? He has somehow managed to pull his Mist down from the heavens in order to breath life back into his mortal form so then why?

"Why, If I may ask? And who are you?"

The man remains with an arm crossed over his chest and his head tipped down as he speaks.

"I am of no consequence. A humble servant of His Excellency, The Earl. One of his many humble servants and I do say Lord Makenshi will be quite surprised to see you."

"Makenshi?" There is a tip of his head as he sounds because he's only been alive again for a few moments but there's already something twisting in the pit of his gut and there is something telling him that he won't like whoever this Makenshi is.

"Why yes, the demon swordsman of course. I believe you know him, do you not Lord Madoushi?"

The Demon Swordsman?! Does he mean - he lived?! He survived that disaster?!

His hands are balling into fist as he thinks about it and his mind is reeling of all that happened to get to this point only to know that of all people to survive the death of their world, it would have been that spineless little coward. He stole the throne from him and instead of fighting he ran. The one with the very blessing of Tiamat herself and he ran when his people needed him. Their people needed them both but the one that was to be their King ran off cowering and he managed to get away with his wretched life... He managed....

That little bastard!

"Where is he?!" The swordsman is practically snarling at the masked man as red eyes narrow their gaze.

"So you do know him then. Wonderful. I can arrange a reunion for you if you just do one small task for me. I can tell you what happened to your Misterica as well if you wish to know what has become of it."

And so he lets the man prattle on. He lets him explain something called 'Chaos' and he explains how this world works. This Wonderland. He allows this masked man to give him the layout of the land and explain that he only need to deal with a few pesky travels and he'll be able to find this Lord Makenshi.

And if there's anything he wants right now, it's to see if he's right.

He doesn't want to be right. The last thing he wants is to be right because if he is that means that little coward truly abandoned their people. If he is right then that means that little coward has no business holding anything even akin to the crown.

Their people are gone and it is all the fault of the one who was born to save them. He had no business calling himself the Holy Vessel now. He had no business calling himself much of anything - that was if he was even alive. This Lord Makenshi cannot be who he thinks they are.... It's simply not -

Red eyes meet that of the ruins of his lost home and he's taking his time to look about them. He's taking his time to take it all in to process that this would be all that's left of Misterica even in her grand splendor. This is it. This is all that's left.

Just him and some broken pillars and shattered buildings. Just him and the clouds. His home was -

Ruby red eyes are focusing on a group of people he's never seen before. Hornless. Are they Windarian? He knows at least one of them is as a man in black with deep red hair steps forward. He lifts his arm and a golden gun assembles before his eyes.

The Demon Gunman no doubt and that had to mean... That had to mean that they both failed and Windaria was gone now too. Some Saviors. Some Sacred Vessels. Some Gods. It seems neither one of them could accomplish anything but his fight is not with this man and his several decade long grudge has nothing to do with the Windarian even as he makes a move to attack him.

"Stop!" A voice cries out before the man can fire. "Please, if you must shoot, turn the Magun on me."

He would know that voice anywhere. He would know every twang and tone of those flattened notes. Why does his voice sound of flat and where is the near constant teeter of an emotional implosion?

The body of white comes to land between himself and the man in black, arms raised as if to defend him from the Windarian threat.

"Black Wind, I understand you hold me in hatred but please find mercy enough in your heart to focus it on me and myself alone."

It seems nothing changes. He's still the same heavy headed fool he always was. So red eyes can only find it in themselves to watch him. To look over every speck the of the small white form that doesn't look a day older than the last time he saw him.

He can only take in every sight of him until he notices - he has changed. The boy he knew is not the man before him. This man, he, he's not shaking. He's not showing fear toward the Windarian nightmare that stands before them, even as this black demon points a golden directly at his heart.

So that means he needs to act instead. The little fool is going to get himself killed at this rate because as per usual he's acting as without thinking. As if he needs his protection. What a joke. It is and always will be the other way around.

The flare sword is dragging through red mist that's flooded into the space around them to draw the form he calls to it and once complete, the elder sun throws the collected energy towards the demon Gunman to trap him within a temporary prison.

The body of white finally turns. Red piercing deep into wide jade green.

"I don't need your protection, Pikkuveli."

[virginiaisforvampires]

hi, V! I hope you're well. this is a bit random, but since I haven't read the books (and don't mind spoilers - on the contrary) I wanted to ask you if Louis is able to walk under the sun later on in VC, since he drinks from Lestat again, some time post-Akasha. Unless that's not really how it works(?)

also do you think show!Lestat is already able to walk under the sun as of NOLA in 1910? For some reason I believe he can. They've have changed a few things already, and from my understanding the Lestat at this time (before Paris in S2) is quite powerful and obviously we know he can fly (and he couldn't do it in the books until QOTD). There's also the few clues Sam let slip in the interview with Autumn hehe

thank you in advance! love your posts!

Hello! Thanks so much! 💗

Yes, after Louis’ resurrection in Merrick by Lestat, he is no longer susceptible to the sun. He gained many powers, like the cloud gift and the fire gift, and he became pretty much truly immortal. That was the reason Louis and Lestat were at odds after Merrick. Louis, up to that point, had refused the ancient blood, because he wanted the option to kill himself via the sun if he ever chose to do so. Once he had Lestat’s blood, that was no longer an option, and he resented Lestat for taking away that choice, which Lestat knew would happen when he brought Louis back.

Lestat in 1910? Yes, I think he was already immune to the sun. He’s 100+ years older in the show when he meets Louis compared to the book. In addition to the ancient blood, age also increases the powers and strength and durability.

But having said that, I don’t think Lestat is aware of this yet, because he attempts suicide later by burning himself in the sun, and it doesn’t work. I fully believe we will see this in the show, and it will be paralleled with Louis’ suicide attempt.

[vraisetzen]

Hi lovely V! I just wanted to ask — what are your 5-10 top favourite things about Michikatsu/Kokushibo?

Hi lovely Anon! This is a really good question

I actually went through various oshis/favourites in KnY, with Rengoku being my first, and then Uzui; over time, however, Kokushibo won over me, and he has been my very favourite since.

His appearance: Let's get this out of the way first — I was instantly intrigued by Kokushibo the very moment I saw him. Gotouge has a splendid eye for memorable character design, and there was something about Kokushibo's six eyes, his turtleshell patterned kimono, and his sword, that made him very compelling unforgettable. And then, when I saw his human face (and how it was such a sharp contrast to Yoriichi), I thought he was so, so handsome.

His strength: I have always been drawn to very strong characters, and Kokushibo was no exception. The way he so easily sliced off Muichiro's arm, how he had hone his Breathing techniques and created so many variations, his certainty and confidence ("You only tore my kimono..."); the fact that he survived having his head sliced off, and was so close to resurrecting had it not been a moment of sentiment as he recalled his brother. He did not achieve all this easily, of course — he had honed his skills through centuries, and even as a swordsman he had worked so hard to match up to his twin brother; which brings me to my next point...

His weakness: This might be a strange thing to say, but another part I love about Kokushbo is something that perhaps many other fans might find despicable: his insecurities and desire for power. In many ways, I relate to his envy for his younger twin's abilities, such that he became blind to the many other things he was given (a title, an estate, a family). Being insecure was one thing, but allowing that jealousy to take root in one's psyche, such that it drove him into becoming a demon — I saw someone who simply wanted to emerge from the shadow cast by the sun, as he pushed the stone of Sisyphus towards an unattainable peak.

His complexity: That is not to say, however, that I absolve or excuse him of all his misdeeds. When I talk about Kokushibo, it is always in the context of him as a demon, as Upper Moon One; very rarely do I refer to him as Tsugikuni Michikatsu, because I think Kokushibo himself willingly let go of that identity the very moment he accepted Muzan's Faustian promise. But still, if the moments before his death were an indication, I think he was always so, so close to being redeemed had he only met the right person who could steer him onto the right path. Kokushibo realised that, and that is why in a moment of weakness he succumbed to death instead of holding on to his desire for power and immortality. It is this near-miss, this possibility of redemption, that makes him such a complex character in my eyes, and one that I love so much.

His personality: The fandom loves making jokes about Kokushibo's speech patterns, and I totally get it — he's just an old guy who needs to get his thoughts in order before voicing them. At the same time, I think it's such a great fit for his serious, dignified persona. We may never know what sort of person Michikatsu was when he was happily married with two children, or when he took a break from being envious of Yoriichi's talents, but I would like to think that he was as equally uptight and formal. As a samurai in the warring states period, he was most definitely raised with the class' code of conduct and behaved appropriately; I especially find his seiza to be very cute:

And if I'm allowed to dive into Kimetsu Academy here, I think Kokushibo is so, so adorable as Muzan's secretary. He's most likely underpaid and overworked, but his devotion to his employer's cause is admirable (and personally, I've always headcanon-ed Muzan's evil politics in KimeGaku as him being a progressive politican in a National Diet filled with LDP politicians, but I digress). I love that moment where Tanjiro's innocence evidently moves him, and we get a tiny glimpse of his eyes beyond the sunglasses:

Because at the end of the day, Kokushibo is just a very Old Guy™ who is just trying his best to serve his master and fulfil his own goals of being the strongest.

Thanks for the wonderful question, Anon! I hope this answers it well — frankly, there are just so many things about Kokushibo that I love, and I find so difficult to quantify them in a list. And to be honest, there are times where I do get mired in fandom's portrayal of him and his canon depiction — that when I read his chapters in the manga all over again!

xoxo, V ♥️

[unmeritedunearnedundeserved]

The Peter Denying Jesus Law Of Attraction Analogy

Jesus told Peter that before the rooster crows you will deny me 3 times.

What does this mean allegorically?

Peters name means ROCK, or STONE. In the original Greek it’s “Petros” where we get our word “petrified”.

And so Peter represents the “hard” external word. Your heavy, burdensome and “rock” like condition.

When does a rooster crow? Before dawn.

The dawn represents our manifestation. Because notice how the sun comes up effortlessly. The rooster represents the SIGN of our manifestation coming.

And Jesus represents the Law of Attraction and the perfect consciousness of “feeling the wish fulfilled”. Jesus is the enlightened reason.

So Jesus (the enlightened reason) tells Peter (the external world or present sense evidence) that before the rooster crows (before the sign of the manifestation)

You (the external) will deny me (the feeling of the wish fulfilled) three times. Three times as in over and over and over.

YOU SEE, the external world will deny your new state of consciousness AGAIN AND AGAIN AND AGAIN.

That is, until the rooster crows. Until the manifestation.

THE EXTERNAL WORLD IS DESIGNED TO DENY YOU. RIGHT UP UNTIL THE MANIFESTATION OF YOUR DESIRE.

IT’S NORMAL. IT’S TO BE EXPECTED.

If the physical world is denying you your desire, GOOD. That’s just Peter denying Jesus 3 times.

But only Jesus resurrects. The rooster crows every time.

If you have a desire and sense evidence denies it, that means the rooster is about to crow!

The denial is a SIGN that your manifestation is coming.

And remember.

EVERY DESIRE YOU HAVE

WILL SUMMON A “PETER” (sense evidence) TO DENY IT.

For Example: This is a story as told in the book Think and Grow Rich

“A few years back, Ford decided to produce the famous V-8 motor.

He chose to build an engine with the entire eight cylinders cast in one block and instructed his engineers to produce a design for the engine.

The design was placed on paper, but the engineers agreed, to a man, that it was simply impossible to cast an eight-cylinder engine block in one piece.

Ford said, “Produce it, anyway.” “But” they replied, “it’s impossible!”

‘ ‘Go ahead,” Ford commanded, “and stay on the job until you succeed, no matter how long it takes.

The engineers went ahead. There was nothing else for them to do, if they were to remain on the Ford staff. Six months went by, nothing happened.

Another six months passed, and still nothing happened.

The engineers tried every conceivable plan to carry out the orders, but the thing seemed out of the question; “impossible!”

At the end of the year Ford checked with his engineers, and again they informed him they had found no way to carry out his orders.

“Go right ahead,” said Ford, “I want it, and I’ll have it.”

They went ahead, and then, as if by a stroke of magic, the secret, was discovered.

The Ford DETERMINATION had won once more!”

In this story Henry Ford represents the Christ mind which sees its desire as already done and in full possession of.

The engineers represent Peter.

Notice how when Ford wanted the engine, sense evidence and the philosophies of the world denied him over and over and over.

That is, until that “Rooster” crowed. And his engine was now in existence.

Remember that this will happen with EVERY SINGLE MANIFESTATION THAT YOU DESIRE.

The evidence of your senses and the philosophies of the world will deny it. But allow it to encourage you because the Rooster always crows and the dawn NEVER FAILS.

[genshin-impact-updates]

"Incandescent Ode of Resurrection" Event: Complete the Archon Quest Within the Specified Duration to Obtain an Additional Reward of Primogems ×500

After the Version 5.3 update, Archon Quest Chapter V: Act V will be permanently available. Meet the unlock criteria to unlock said Archon Quest.

Complete the corresponding Archon Quest within the specified duration to obtain an additional reward of Primogems ×500.

〓Specified Duration〓

After the Version 5.3 update – 2025/02/11 14:59

〓Archon Quest Unlock Criteria〓

Adventure Rank 28 or above

Complete Archon Quest Chapter V: Interlude "All Fires Fuel the Flame"

※ In the current version, once you reach Adventure Rank 28 and complete Archon Quest Chapter I: Act III "A New Star Approaches," you can use the "Quick Start" function to unlock Archon Quest Chapter V: Act I "Flowers Resplendent on the Sun-Scorched Sojourn" and continue progressing up to the latest Archon Quest introduced in the current version update.

[darkluminosity]

Rise With The Sun (878 words)

Chapters: 1/? Fandom: 原神 | Genshin Impact (Video Game) Rating: Not Rated Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Diluc & Mavuika (Genshin Impact), Diluc & Kaeya (Genshin Impact) Characters: Diluc (Genshin Impact), Mavuika (Genshin Impact), Kaeya (Genshin Impact) Additional Tags: Diluc Needs a Hug (Genshin Impact), Kaeya Needs a Hug (Genshin Impact), 5+1 Things, Spoilers for 5.3 archon quest, Coming of Age, Dreams, Guilt, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, Diluc and Kaeya Reconciliation (Genshin Impact), Written Before Snezhnaya Release (Genshin Impact), Not Fully Canon Compliant, Other Additional Tags to Be Added Summary:

Mavuika appears in a series of Diluc’s dreams throughout his life, eventually weaving into a tapestry of complex themes and life lessons.

Disclaimer: Spoilers ahead if you haven’t finished the Natlan Archon Quest (Chapter V, Act V): Incandescent Ode of Resurrection.

=====

I just had to write this once Mavuika came out - she gives me big sis vibes for him, so this fic was born as a result. It definitely won't be as long as Fighting Winter though (lol).

Thanks for reading! 💙 Also thank you/shout out to @chaotic-snowflake for being my wonderful beta on this!

[ducktoonsfanart]

Orthodox icon - Portrait of the resurrected Jesus Christ Pantocrator - My version - Happy Orthodox Easter! - Bible (Religion)

"I am the resurrection and the life. Whoever believes in Me, though he die, yet shall he live" (John 11:25)

"I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through Me." (John 14:6)

"Look, I am coming soon! My reward is with Me, and I will give to each person according to what they have done. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the First and the Last, the Beginning and the End." (Relevation 22:12, 22:13)

This is how Jesus Christ the Savior and Redeemer spoke, according to Christians the Son of God, and this is how Jesus will speak at the end of time and He has existed forever. Yes, because for Christians Jesus is God, it is written with a capital letter.

Yes, I admit that I'm not a believer and I'm a sinner, but I always try as hard as I can to correct my mistakes and follow God's way, and that's my right to believe because I believe in salvation through Jesus Christ.

Certainly to all who are Orthodox (especially those who celebrate according to the Julian calendar and who celebrate after the Jewish Passover) who live in Palestine, Syria, Egypt, Armenia, Greece, Serbia, Cyprus, Russia, Belarus, Bulgaria, Romania, Georgia, Ukraine, Montenegro, North Macedonia and to all Orthodox people living around the world, I wish you a happy Easter! Christ is risen! Христос васкресе!

If someone asks me, yes, it is celebrated differently among the Orthodox and differently among the Catholics and Protestants, so it turned out to be a completely different Easter this year. Don't worry, there will be a joint Easter next year. So Orthodox Easter fell on this day. The day he was crucified and died, resurrected and defeated death and the devil and proved that there is eternal life for all of us who believe. Glory to Jesus Christ who died for all of us sinners and rose again for all of us to save us!

And on this occasion, I drew a portrait of Jesus Christ as my redraw of Christ Pantocrator, which was first recorded and left in the monastery of St. Catherine in Sinai in the 6th century AD, 500 years after Christ's resurrection. I also combined colors like the icon (Christ Pantocrator) from this site: https://milanmosaicart.com/christ-pantocrator-mosaic/

Drawing Orthodox icons is not at all easy and requires a lot of effort, of course there is rarely traditional drawing of icons and painting with wood colors, so I wanted to experience how it goes and this is how it turned out. Of course, I apologize for certain details, especially the lips, it's my first time doing it. Yes, Jesus is the Pantocrator, which means the ruler of all visible and invisible because Jesus comes from God the Father and holds the Book of Life in which all the data of all of us who live on Earth are collected, and around Jesus, unlike other icons, I drew the Sun and the Moon and the stars because Jesus rules over all and they obey Him and Jesus Himself brings the light of life. Yes, around Him is a solar halo that is marked for Jesus and for all the angels and saints who follow God's way and here you can see the initials with the Greek letters Ο Ω Ν, i.e. ὁ ὤν, which means "He Who Is". And above are the initials in Greek which means Jesus Christ (ΙΗΣΟΥΣ ΧΡΙΣΤΟΣ). Of course if I'm wrong somewhere, please correct me on some things. I certainly wanted to thank God for everything He has helped me so far and for what He will help me in the future. However, a bit of religious content is not out of place.

And yes, we don't know exactly what Jesus really looked like and yes, it can be presented as idolatry, however this is not idolatry, but icons that show what Jesus Christ would look like in His miraculous glory and what is shown from Sinai is one of the closest we can to imagine and certainly the beginning of iconography. Glory to Jesus Christ!

Also this: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=icjexnL6rI4 https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HxN_wrMo0Y0

Happy to all who celebrate Easter today and Christ is risen! If you like it feel free to like and reblog this! And if there are things that need to be said, feel free to tell me here.

"Lord Jesus Christ Son of God, have mercy on me, a sinner."

[eye-lantern]

Do you think BOE names are foreshadowing?

Commander Wake, last name "oops there goes gravity", died falling from space.

Oh yes.

I never thought about this one specifically (her other names are great but I'll Comme back to them later), but I believe that the names always have at least a bit of a link to the true nature of the character or their role in the story.

I don't think anyone in the tlt universe is able to understand it, except maybe John, as he does name people with the knowledge of what those names meant before he nuked everything. Like a twisted inside joke or a wish that it would "take". Kinda like some parents chose a name for it's associated virtues.

But on the other side, BoE has done kind of the same. They don't live forever and meaning will get lost over a myriad, so they tried to preserve their culture by giving names with meaning, but a lot of it is lost to them (I think they still have some context because a lot of those are way too close to their original meaning even if they don't seem to make any sense at first. They are the only one appart from God to use names like he does.

About Wake, I don't think anyone in BoE ever pronounced Wake's last names like in the song but there is no way Jod did not take psychic damage the first time he heard it. Because it is a stupid reminder of what he destroyed, and then erased from everyone he resurrected.

Awake Remembrance of These Valiant Dead:

From Shakespeare's Henry V, meaning "remind yourself of the great deeds of your ancestors". It speaks to Wake's strength and unification of BoE, she is the incarnation of the survivors or Jod's carnage, and of the rebellion's myriad of history.

But to me it also is a call for Gideon. The original sentence is meant to convince Henry V that he should raise an army to take back what is rightfully his, the throne of France. Gideon's heritage is the throne of god, and the command of BoE. We could say she took the first as prince Kiriona Gaia but she didn't do it by Valliance. To do that she would have to kill Jod.

"Awake", is also in a very simple way what she does, she has tried to wake Alecto, she "woke up" Pyrrah by giving her a reason to take control of Gide1n more frequently, she took control as soon as she was woken up as a ghost and became a revenant, and when her daughter's sword entered the mithraeum she regularly woke up as a dead lyctor. And she is of course the Sleeper, who won't stay sleeping. Like, almost on the nose there.

Kia Hua Ko Te Pai (let goodness flourish):

That one is a slap in Jod's face. He is at least mixed Maori/indigenous. This is a part of the Maori version of the New Zealand national anthem. New Zealand's beginnings were bloody and monstrously racist. Having the Maori version of God save New Zealand become an official anthem was the recognition of decades of fighting done by Maori activists for their rights, against the imperialism of the state. Jod's pretty recent ancestors have known that fight. And now he is that oppressing, cruel and inhuman empire. And Wake is throwing this reminder in his face.

If those choices are conscious from BoE then the choice of this precise verse could be used to ground Wake, ala "don't forget why you are doing this".

Snap back to reality, oops, there goes gravity

For BoE necromancy is a crime against nature, an unwelcome alteration of reality itself. And Jod is the incarnation of that. Killing him would make the world "snap back". It would also "kill" the sun again, creating a giant gravity well, absorbing everything in the system, or just disseapear, flinging the system all across the galaxy. Either way, gravity's gonna have quite an effect.

As the phrase comes from "loose yourself" by Eminem, it could also be taken as a reminder of the daunting task ahead and a way for Wake to steel herself and "take her shot".

And she, as you said, died falling out an airlock at the edge of space.

Our lady of the Passion:

This one may be one of the most fascinating. Sure she is passionate and all but, Pash is named after a painting, on of a madone and child. The lady in question is mourning the future suffering of her child, his Passion.

I think BoE names are codenames, given when entering service by a superior. Because Pash would not chose that name. But someone we know would choose a powerful sounding name while also being a sorrowful reminder of the pain this child entering a fighting force will face, Wake.

And suffer she did.

All of those are both a good fit if chosen in universe, but also include prophecies or dramatic irony. Seeing that House names carry that dramatic irony/prophecy too (Corona was almost called Cainabeth), I believe it is a intrinsic property of the locked tomb universe.