#(only without the body sharing/empathy part)

[fortune-maiden]

Based on Bridon Ep 4, I’m starting to wonder more about how Lu Guang’s powers work

He took a photo of CXS and was apparently able to keep an eye on him through that

But doesn’t that raise some questions about the “12 hours into the future” that LG can see? He took the photo so wouldn’t it make more sense that he could see 12 hours into the photographer’s future? It would explain why he followed CXS to the pub rather than watch from the hotel room, but somehow it also looked like he was able to know exactly what CXS was doing in the pub so he knew the exact moment to call and summon him back

Is he just able to zoom in on the particulars as long as he’s physically present in/within some short radius of the location?

[reginyani]

Late Night Case Files | s.reid x reader

summary: you and Spencer find yourselves working late on some case files, and what starts off as a deep conversation ends in something more intimate.

cw: Y/N used, reader implied as a female, make out sesh (sorta), earlyseasons!spencer

wc: 811

A/N: please reblog if you enjoyed! reblogging is the only way to promote fics on tumblr :) this is pretty simple, but the ideas are not flowing recently💔

It was well past midnight when you and Spencer Reid found yourselves in a dimly lit conference room. Case files were scattered everywhere, but you both were too deep into this case to just take off and leave it for tomorrow. Coffee cups were carefully placed away from the stacks of papers, barely touched and cold.

Spencer looked up into the distance, muttering to himself while he processed new information. You watched him for a few moments, visibly seeing something click in his brain that hadn't before. He looked up at you, his eyebrows furrowed. It was quite amusing, actually.

"Y/N, I think I've got it." He motioned with his hand for you to come over to his side. He held onto the file, letting you look at it for a moment before telling you. You looked at him, confused, still not understanding. He finally pointed at the paper, looking up at you. "Right here," his voice was quieter due to the darkness of the night. "This here is the connection we've all just looked over. We missed it, and there it was... in plain sight." He sighed.

You smile brightly, nodding at his connection to the case. "You're amazing, boy genius," you said softly, but not just about the case—just him in general. Spencer's usual distance from you, both emotionally and physically, was absent tonight. He was closer than normal, almost leaving no space between you two, like right now. You shifted slightly away from him, realizing how weird it was to be so close to him. It wasn’t normal.

He looked over at you, smiling at your compliment. "I'm just doing my job, Y/N." He rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, waiting for you to say something else.

"It's not just that, Reid. You see every little detail that others don't. It's truly something that you should give yourself more credit for." Spencer's lips parted slightly as you said this, like he was going to say something, but he hesitated. "What?" you asked.

"It's just... sometimes I feel like I've missed out on the most simple things." He looked down at the files scattered on the table again before looking back up at you. "Like... really connecting with people, you know?"

You were taken aback by this. This was Dr. Spencer Reid, a man who could crack cases in seconds, decode a serial killer’s mind without any issues! But something about the atmosphere of the dark night outside the windows, the late hour, and the rhythm you shared in the work you had just done made him feel... loose.

You met his eyes, not knowing what to say.

"Sorry, I've just never had the opportunity to talk about this stuff with anyone before. Not in any way that feels... real," he explained, causing you to automatically nod in his direction.

"You're not alone, Spencer. I think everyone struggles with that sometimes," you said, puckering your lips with empathy. You couldn't help it, the warmth spread throughout your body as you felt the connection between you two growing by the second.

He was standing in front of you, barely any space between you two. You soon began to notice this—it was hard not to. You both stared into each other's eyes, letting the tension grow heavier.

Spencer broke the silence, sounding almost breathless as he smiled at you. "Did you know," he began, putting a hand on your cheek and drawing you closer to him, "according to studies, kissing is actually safer than shaking hands?"

You raised an eyebrow in question. "Kissing? Really?" you asked, your heart beating rapidly. He didn't answer, instead slowly closing the gap between you both.

When your lips met, it was soft at first, like a question that you had to answer. You quickly answered it, pulling your hand up and resting it on his shoulder as you deepened the kiss. Your other hand found its way to his neck, holding onto it as you pulled him in closer.

You both eventually pull away, his hand still resting on your cheek, your breaths mingling between you two. You smiled, and he sent one back. Your breath started to calm, and he opened his mouth.

"Way safer than shaking hands..." he muttered, still breathless from the previous act.

You chuckled softly, looking into his eyes. "Well, I think I can take that as a compliment."

[totallyxtaurus]

I just want you to know who I am pt. 2

Summary: What if Sylus had kept going to all those lantern festivals in hopes you’d be there and what would he do if you actually were. Pairing: Sylus x gn reader Genre: Angst A/N: Finally, here's part 2! I just started a new job and it has taken up so much time already plus school work, ugh. I had this second half in mind while writing the first but for some reason this was much harder to write. So, I hope it's okay and not too rushed! I cannot begin to express my thanks to those who liked, commented, and reblogged! I sincerely appreciate you! Enjoy!💗

Frantic. That’s the only word Sylus can use to describe the turmoil raging inside him. His legs propel him forward, fighting against the sea of people, as though he’s swimming upstream, that block him at every turn. He continues to shove past the crowd, guilt rising with each shoulder he knocks into as he forces himself through the press of bodies. Yet, as the light ahead grows shorter, the gnawing guilt fades-replaced by something sharper. 

Finally, he reaches the end of the light, but… there is no one. Just a dark ominous looking alleyway, silent except for a handful of figures loitering at its mouth, smoke curling around their heads as they take a break from the wave of the crowd. His breath catches in his throat, and he’s unsure whether it’s from the exertion of running or the sting of disappointment swelling inside him. His chest heaves, raw and jagged.

The people lingering in front of the alley’s entrance eye him with a mix of suspicion and indifference. But without pause, Sylus steps into the shadows of the alley, the silence sheltering him. Just before the alley curves out of sight, he halts. A soft sound reaches his ears- a voice, tender, and coaxing, murmuring toward something small. A pull tugs at his chest, instinctively, and he presses himself against the rough wall, peering around the corner. 

There, crouched low to the ground, bathed in a soft, golden ray from a nearby streetlamp, is a figure- shrouded in the warmth of the light- offering a stray kitten the remains of some festival food. 

Sylus’ chest, once tight and heaving with the weight of his frantic search, has finally found its calm. The rush of blood in his ears wanes as his breath evens out, all the tension from the day’s chaos melting into something softer. His eyes are drawn to the golden light radiating from the streetlamp, casting a warm halo over the scene before him. It’s not just illuminating the alleyway- it’s unveiling the person he’s been chasing for so long. A gift from fate, just for him. 

Finally. 

Here you are. Of course, this is where you would be. 

You don’t look like how Sylus remembers. The face he searched for in every crowd, the features that haunted his thoughts- none of them matched the person before him now. That explains why the physical descriptions he had gathered came up empty. But it is you. He knows it with the certainty that pulses in his chest. This moment, this scene- it tells him everything.

Everything about you may have changed, your appearance, your posture, the way you carry yourself- it’s all foreign. Yet, despite the shift in the shape of your form, the core of who you are remains untouched. You’re still the person he remembers, the person who’s always been more than superficial.

It’s the tenderness of your gestures, the way you tentatively lean toward the stray kitten, slowly offering it festival food with such gentle care. It’s the way you softly gaze at the creature before you, greedily eating from your hand yet eyeing you cautiously. It has only ever known fear and danger, like him. Yet, there’s empathy in your every movement, an unmistakable kindness. And, in that moment, Sylus realizes that despite all that’s changed, you’ve never stopped being the same person. The one who shared his soul, who saw the world through the lens of compassion despite its cruelty.

As you rise to leave, Sylus has already slipped from his hiding place, merging into the shadows at a safe distance. But he’s not far from you now. He watches as you step back into the crowd, and he knows, from this moment on, you’ll never again be out of his sight. Still, he doesn’t approach.

He tells himself it’s because you’re not ready, that the time hasn’t come for him to reveal himself. But deep down, he knows it’s not you- it’s him. He’s never thought this far ahead, never thought this moment would happen in his lifetime. What would he say? What would he do? The thoughts loop endlessly in his mind, taunting him with the possibility of rejection. And worst of all, what if you don’t remember him? Fear hits him like a bullet, sharp and sudden, tearing through him with a force he knows too well. At least with a bullet, he knows what to expect, how to numb the pain. But this? This feeling? This devastating uncertainty? He’d rather be shot again than feel this way, raw and vulnerable. No, he’s not ready. Not yet.

Instead, he hangs back, careful to stay out of your line of sight, yet his eyes remain fixed on you as you move through the crowd with quiet grace, effortlessly dodging the hustle and bustle around you. There’s a soft caution in the way you navigate, a careful awareness of your surroundings, just like him. He can’t tear his gaze away, tracking every subtle shift in your expression, every stall you pause at. What makes your eyes light up, what catches your attention longer than it should. 

And yet, at this moment, in this aching distance, he finds a strange comfort. Watching you, following you, even if only from a distance, feels like a small but vital victory. It’s more than he ever thought he’d be able to ask for, more than he feel he deserves. For now, this is enough. But then he sees it—just for a moment, a fleeting glance—your eyes flicking over the couples around you, and he recognizes that quiet loneliness in your gaze, that unspoken thought that mirrors his own. You’re alone, just like him. And in that shared loneliness, there’s a bitter kind of understanding. 

That doesn’t stop the yearning from gnawing at him, though. The desire to step forward, to close the space, buries itself in his bones. He must push it down, he must press on, because he’s just not ready. Not yet. But when he is, he’ll come crawling back to you.

[himasgod]

Kinich x r4ped!reader

Scaramouche x family issues!reader

(I finally finished this request! I've tried to make it as non-specific as possible, I know this is a sensitive subject. If any of you, dear readers, have gone through a similar experience, I want you to know that this is a serious subject, and that you are not alone. You have many things, many people, many laws and entities protecting you. Feel free to express yourself. You can count on me if you need anything.)

Kinich

Where you find comfort on him after being sexu4lly 4bused.

It was a thick night in Natlan, and the heat was barely able to alleviate the weight you felt in your chest. In the last few days, you had tried to return to your normal life, pretending that everything was fine; but the reality was that the shadows of your pain continued to haunt you. You didn't want to talk, not even to Kinich, afraid that your words would fail to convey the hell you had lived through. However, the concern in his eyes convinced you that tonight you could no longer bear your suffering alone.

Kinich was at your side, silent. Not asking for explanations, not pressuring. Despite his pragmatic personality, he was perceptive and knew when someone was carrying more than they could hold. He watched you for a moment, his eyes serious and attentive, without traces of judgment, only open for whatever you decided to trust him with.

"You don't have to tell me anything you don't want to say," Kinich murmured softly, breaking the silence gently. His rough hands, accustomed to combat and hunting, sought yours with unusual care, as if he were afraid of breaking you at the slightest contact. “But I am here, for whatever you need. You know I love you, forever”

You felt the calm strength in his touch. A shiver ran through your skin, as if Natlan’s warmth was not enough to calm the coldness that had remained inside you since that fucking day. The words were stuck in your throat, and although you wanted to answer him, your voice seemed to have faded. But Kinich understood, as if your silence spoke for itself. He gently pulled you towards him, and without saying anything else, he let his arm surround your body with a protective warmth, gently, as if he were leaving you enough time to react, in case you did not want to have any contact.

“I know that what they did to you…” he began to say, his voice low and full of a weight that he rarely showed, “is something that no human being should endure. I can't undo what they did to you, or erase that pain… but I'll be here, even if you just want company without words."

You squeezed your eyes shut, and at last, the knot in your chest began to give way. Tears ran free, and Kinich didn't look away for a moment. He stayed by your side, like an immovable pillar in the middle of the storm that was hitting you. There was no rush, no attempt to change or minimize what you felt. He was simply there, sharing the weight in silence.

When you finally found your voice, you could barely whisper through your tears:

"I'm scared… scared that I'll never feel whole again, that this has taken a part of me away forever. I feel dirty, I've been taken away…"

Kinich looked at you, his gaze filled with an empathy rare in him. With a deliberate slowness, on purpose in case you didn't feel comfortable, he placed his hand on your face, gently wiping away the tears with his thumb.

"You're so much more... you are stronger than you think,” he replied, with a conviction so deep that he almost managed to make you believe him. “They haven’t taken anything from you. You will overcome it, and you will be the same as always. It is just a process that you will face… and I will be there throughout the process, helping you. You will overcome it. I promise you that.”

His words were like a balm, sincere and firm. Although the doubt and the pain were still present, Kinich’s presence enveloped you in a feeling of security. He did not promise that everything would be fine, but he did promise that he would be there, ready to accompany you in every step you took to heal.

You both stayed like that, sharing the silence under Natlan’s starry sky, and you understood that in Kinich you had found a refuge.

Scaramouche

Where he comforts you after you've told him your family's expectations of you.

The mood in Sumeru was gloomy, reflecting the weight of your thoughts. You had had a heated argument with your family earlier that morning, a conflict that seemed to repeat itself in an endless cycle. It was differences of expectations, impossible demands, and a constant comparison that drained every particle of peace you tried to build. You didn't know how to explain to them your desire to live on your own terms, without the weight of their expectations on your shoulders.

You found yourself walking aimlessly through the city, trying to clear your mind. However, a familiar shadow appeared in your path, and looking up, you saw Scaramouche, arms crossed and a disdainful expression you knew all too well.

"Are you done ghosting around town?" he asked in his usual scathing tone, but something in his eyes revealed more concern than contempt.

You sighed, trying to keep your composure, but the tension in your chest was too strong.

“If you’ve only come to make fun of it, then you might as well leave it,” you replied in a dry tone, hoping your words would drive him away.

To your surprise, Scaramouche didn’t move. Instead, he stared at you intently, as if he were trying to decipher the shadows behind your words.

“I’m not here to make fun of you, fool,” he murmured, his tone softening only slightly. “Though sometimes it seems like you don’t even understand what you need.”

His words made your barriers crumble, and without knowing how, you found yourself telling him everything. The overwhelming expectations, the rejection of your decisions, the constant criticism that felt like daggers in your heart. As you spoke, Scaramouche’s expression changed, a mix of contained rage and dark compassion that only he seemed to possess.

“So… you can’t live up to them and they know it,” he finally said, after listening to you in silence. “Why do you have to mold yourself in their image?”

You looked at him in shock, tears threatening to spill out. It was the first time someone had said it out loud, like a truth you hadn’t allowed yourself to believe.

“Because… they’re my family. I’m supposed to make them happy.”

Scaramouche snorted, his gaze turning icy.

“That’s absurd,” he muttered, a hint of bitterness in his voice. “Family shouldn’t be a burden that crushes you. They don’t have the right to decide how you live. If they truly loved you, why would they hurt you this way?”

His words were harsh, but they carried a sincerity that cut through every one of your doubts. You moved a little closer, seeking refuge in his presence. Though Scaramouche rarely showed affection to you, eben if he was your boyfriend, this time he didn’t pull away. Instead, he let you lean on him, his hand resting gently on your back as the weight of your tears fell silently.

“You don’t need to live up to their expectations to be worth something. If they don’t see it, it’s their problem, not yours,” he murmured, almost in a whisper. “And I… well, I’m the last one who should say this, but… you’re not alone in this fight.”

For the first time in a long time, you felt like someone understood you without judging you. Scaramouche, with his reticent nature and his own history of pain, knew more than he let on.

And in that instant, you realized that even if your family would never understand your choices, maybe you had someone at your side who could support you without asking for anything in return.

Here is my masterlist, in case you are interested in any more of my work or want to send me a request <3

[perseephoneee]

kinktober 8 (kol mikaelson x f!reader)

↳ masterlist ↳ ship exchange ↳ taglist ↳ kinktober masterlist

content warnings: blood sharing, oral (f!receiving), inexperienced reader

a/n: we did it guys! had to save my fav for last <3 i was discussing with @wholoveseggs earlier that we think kol is a giver so i had to incorporate it lol.

all of these are inspired by this post by @moremaybank

“You’re joking.”

Kol looked at you with an expression that could be described as shocked, offended, and also intrigued. You squirmed under his gaze, bringing a pillow into your lap like it would guard you against his scrutiny.

“Well, gee Kol, thanks for your empathy,” you scowled.

“I’m just shocked, that’s all.”

“Right. Like it’s surprising.”

“It is,” he said. “A gorgeous girl like you should’ve orgasmed once in your life, but never? That’s an affront to nature.” You flushed slightly at his compliment but still refused to make eye contact.

You were both in your bedroom Halloween night. Becoming friends with Kol had been an accident, and falling in love was an even bigger one. You had never told him, though, happy to stay the way you were. Until somehow, your sex lives came up, and the wine had caused you to spill your lack of history in pretty much everything. You wished you could both go back to watching Buffy and leave it at that.

“Not even through masturbation?”

“Kol, I seriously don’t want to talk about it,” you hissed, turning away from him. You didn’t mean to snap at him, but it was already embarrassing enough without the pity of the guy you like. It was only silent for a few moments.

“I could help you.”

You whipped your head around, brows furrowed. Kol barely seemed bothered by the proposition.

“I am quite good, and I’ve always wanted to.”

“You’ve always wanted to make a girl come? Doesn’t that counteract the ‘I am quite good’ statement?” you raised a brow, and Kol threw a pillow at you.

“I’ve always wanted to make you come,” he scooted closer to you, his eyes darkening.

“Me?” you gulped.

“I only befriend pretty girls, but you had to go and make me like you, you minx,” Kol grinned. “Plus, I’ve been meaning to ask you on a date.”

“A date? This is not a date; this is sex.”

“Semantics, darling,” he purred, brushing your hair back. “Would you say yes? If I asked.”

You blinked, heart galloping at a speed unsafe for humankind. “Yes,” you breathed, and Kol beamed. You’re not sure what you said yes to, but he was attracted to you, and you were going to say yes to that. He pushed you back on the bed, helping you get comfortable as he settled between your thighs.

“Now, we’re going to have to do something about these clothes,” he said as he fiddled with the hem of your shirt. You sat up, taking your shirt over your head and enjoying the way his mouth parted at the sight of you in your bra. He quickly helped you remove your pants, and his expression made you want to be admired by him for the rest of your life. He caged your head between his arms, delicately brushing your face. “Relax, darling,” he cooed. “I got you.”

When he kissed you, it was better than you imagined. He tasted of apple cider and spring days, and you wondered if it was plausible to never breathe again if it meant kissing him. He bit your bottom lip, slipping his tongue into your mouth and coaxing a moan from you. One of his hands cupped your breast over your bra, and you arched into his touch. Your hands gripped his biceps, following the planes of his shoulders. He kissed across your jaw, licking your pulse point and sending shivers down your spine. He kissed his way down your body before settling between your thighs. His lips kissed and nipped along your thighs, bringing your legs over his shoulders as he made marks across your skin. You saw the veins appear beneath his eyes, and his grip tightened on you as he held his fangs back.

“Kol,” you whispered. “Would you drink from me?” His gaze snapped to yours, hesitation in his eyes. “I trust you…please?”

“You drive me crazy,” Kol murmured, smirking at you as his fangs came out. You were sure what to expect when he sank them into the plush of your thighs, but the burn felt good, and you rested your head against the pillows with a moan. He brushed over your clothed center, adding pleasure to the burn as he drank his fill from you. He detached, switching to the other thigh and giving you twin marks. The sight of Kol drinking from you was one of the more erotic things you’d seen in your life, and you wondered if you could come from the sight alone. When he was done, his mouth stained red as he came back up to kiss you. He bit down on his lip, drawing his blood to the surface and forcing you to drink it as he kissed you deeply. You felt yourself heal up as Kol pulled away and settled back between your thighs.

He removed your panties with a wink and dispelled any nerves by immediately causing you to melt with licks to your center.

“Oh, Kol,” you breathed, unfamiliar to the sensations throughout your body. He held your hips down with one arm, the other teasing your entrance as he slowly pushed in. You felt tears of pleasure prick your eyes as he sucked and kissed your clit, his fingers brushing you in all the right places. You wanted to die like this, with Kol between your thighs, bringing you the best pleasure of your life.

When you did come, it was all at once in a shout. You had never felt something so infinite as he held you through it. When you were done, you thought he would stop, but he continued his ministrations on your clit.

“Kol,” you murmured, squirming from the overstimulation.

“C’mon darling, give me one more,” he groaned into your pussy, adding a second finger. You were helpless against him, but when you did come a second time, he held your hand through it, his grip the only solid thing bringing you back to earth. He wiped his mouth on the inside of your thigh, coming back up to you and kissing you softly. “Now, how was that?” he smiled, cupping your face.

“Your date is going to have to meet some high expectations,” you joked.

“Oh, darling, don’t ever underestimate me,” Kol chuckled, pulling you close to him. “Not when you’re all mine.”

[beardedjoel]

💗🎉💗CONGRATULATIONS ON YOUR MILESTONE!💗🎉💗

I’m so happy for you! I found you through Closer, and I couldn’t be happier about it. You’re an amazing writer and such a lovely person!

I’m wondering… what about one of these?🌹the prompt number 1. I love your writing and I cannot stop myself from asking. Perhaps with Joel, or Frankie, or Pero…I’m not picky, I’ll be happy with whatever the inspiration leads you.

Alsooooo… Is it too much if I add a little bit of 💌? I’m curious about your writing process. How do you do it? Is it linear, or do you jump around, and later “paste it”?

wym, you're so sweet and i love sharing this space with you my friend 😘 thank you for sending in this prompt and allowing me to do something special with it. thanks for your patience as i have been painstakingly slow with making my way through this backlog of requests! i'll answer your thoughtful writing question at the very bottom of the post after the one shot, if that's alright!

axel and ember — joel x f!reader

request: "overwhelmed, but happy crying during sex". sent in as part of my 5k celebration! i decided to use this one for something very personal to me. as someone who has dealt with vaginismus, this was challenging to write the last few days but it felt like the right direction for me to go in with this prompt. in no way does this describe the experience every person with vaginismus has (nor 100% true to mine), and it is a lot of hard work to help your body and mind learn to work with the sexual obstacles that come with it. i simplified things for the purpose of this story but still found it really gratifying to write so much from personal experience and feelings that i have dealt with. i highly encourage anyone who has not heard of vaginismus to do a little research as it's something that many, many women deal with in silence or is ignored as much of women's sexual health is. happy reading 💓

wc: 2.9k

warnings: 18+ MDNI, reader has vaginismus, unprotected piv

“Maybe… maybe it just doesn’t fit.”

You’d said the words, exasperated after trying for the third time that week.

“I don’t think that’s how that works, darlin’,” Joel teases the words playfully, his hair hanging down into his face as he holds himself perched above you. His smile brusquely fades when he sees that you’re genuinely upset. Some days, it hadn’t been that big of a deal, you’d been able to shrug off the frustration. Today, however, you felt frayed and emotional, pissed off that your body couldn’t just behave like a normal body should. It’s infuriating, living in a body that won’t cooperate with your mind, seeing others do with ease what you never could. What you could only have as a fantasy. 

“Hey, it’s alright.” He leans down, kissing you softly before moving from where he’d been stationed on top of you to lay at your side.

Another dream of finally having sex with your boyfriend tonight slipped away in an instant. 

“What if I try the dilators again?” you ask desperately, meeting Joel’s gaze. His warm eyes look back at yours with empathy, and he shrugs.

“If y’want. But maybe you should jus’ rest. We already had our fun, yeah?”

He’d gotten you off, you’d gotten him off. Fingers and tongues and mouths, which admittedly were great, but you craved to know what more of him felt like, more than just the one, sometimes two fingers you could handle without soon wincing in discomfort.

You wanted him inside of you, wanted your bodies joined in the way that you were so cruelly being denied by the universe.

“N-no, you’re right. It was fun.” You flash him a somewhat forced smile, grateful for his patience and love when he wraps his arms around you. Joel had been such a constant with you, so wonderful, and that only made it hurt more that you couldn’t give him this. He’d never pressured you, never made you feel at fault these last five months you’d been dating. In some ways, it had brought you closer, not being able to rush into sex, but it didn’t mean that he’d stick around forever if it meant he couldn’t get the one thing you know men always want.

“We’re gonna get it one of these days,” he reassures you, stroking your hair. “You’re workin’ hard at your sessions and here at home. Don’t tell you enough that I think it’s great, seein’ you tryin’ all of that. But don’t do it for me, okay? Do it ‘cause it’s what you want.”

You stare at him for a moment, dumbfounded. You were of course doing all of this work for yourself, so that you could freely enjoy something that should come so naturally to your body. Yet you knew that deep down the pressure was mounting, wanting to give Joel the sexual satisfaction you assumed he craved, something that your hands and mouth couldn’t give him. It was putting up a block between you and your sexuality, making each interaction that much more strained and distressing. You’re surprised Joel caught on to all of that when you’d been trying to put on a brave face for him. 

“I - I know,” you concede with a sigh. “I’m afraid sometimes. That I’ll never be enough without this piece of me.”

Joel’s deep set brow furrows further, looking hurt - for you or for himself, you can’t quite tell. His lips set into a firm line before they part, readying to speak. “I think you’re pretty damn amazing the way that y’are. I want that for us, ‘course I do. But I’d rather jus’ have you, whatever, however you are.”

“You would?” you ask sentimentally, your eyes stinging with unshed tears. You laugh slightly, wiping under your eyes, knowing your question is ridiculous but still needing that extra validation that he’s sure. That he’s okay continuing to try this with you, even if it never results in anything. 

“Yes, silly. Why do you think I’ve kept you around all this time?” 

“‘Cause I find us all the good TV shows to watch?”

He laughs, his burly chest shaking with it. “Quit bein’ a pest, I’m tryin’ to be serious with you,” he quips back, trying and failing to hold back his chuckle.

“I know. I know what you’re saying, Joel. I -“ You swallow, your face falling, pulled back into the seriousness of the moment. “I appreciate you. So, so much.” You reach and wrap your arms tightly around him. You relish in the feeling of being close to him, your naked bodies melding together, the heater-like quality of Joel always comforting to you. 

“You’re all the good in this relationship, baby.”

“Who’s being a pest now?” You flick his chest, sending the both of you into a fit of laughter again, giddy at the late hour and the tax of this evening leaving you emotionally spent.

The voice deep inside your mind taunts you as you slowly listen to Joel falling asleep next to you, his breath falling to a rhythmic pattern interlaced with tiny, endearing snores. You hold back tears that come in the dark, feeling so small and alone in this moment, knowing that despite his reassurances, he could never truly understand how this feels for you.

The next few weeks go by with much of the same - you’re busy with life, work, friends, and going to your physical therapy sessions. It was awkward at first all those months ago, laying there bare underneath the sheet while a woman practically had half her hand inside of you, but you got used to it, even started to look forward to hearing about her life and her kids. 

You and Joel try a few more times to no avail, your body once seeming to have a breakthrough before promptly making you inhale sharply in pain, shaking your head dejectedly. 

You try to let it go, let all of it go. Learn that life doesn’t surround this, it simply can’t if you don’t want this pressure, this hole in your heart that you think you need to fill, to eat you alive. This cannot mean that you’re broken, that nobody could want to be with someone born with their factory settings just a little bit off. 

You see it on Joel’s face and in his demeanor, proudly taking note of the change within you. You start to pounce on him every chance you get, fueled by trying to feed this new, insatiable mental freedom you’ve allowed yourself. If you couldn’t have the sex you were dreaming of just yet, you figured that in the meantime you may as well make the sex you are having something new to dream about.

Joel, as predicted, is highly receptive to your new outlook, hands and lips all over you more often than not the second you step through his door to spend the night with him. You find yourself laughing with him when you’re being intimate instead of focusing on that pit in your stomach that worries if this time could finally be the time. You’ve done away with taking it far too seriously to even enjoy when your gracious boyfriend is buried between your legs like it’s his favorite thing. Now, you can appreciate all of it for what it is - a way to connect with Joel, to share something special and fun and sexy together.

You lie in bed with Joel this evening, cackling as you two take turns narrating excerpts from a friend’s most recent read in the romance department that she’d lent you. For inspiration, she’d teased, saying it might help your mind and body become more open to connecting with one another on the topic of sex. You’d taken it with a grain of salt but now it was the evening's top entertainment. You had to admit that she had a point - it did feel nice to read about characters that were so sexually open that anything seemed possible for them.

“The people in these books are unreal,” you manage to get out through your laughter, wiping the stream of tears that coats your cheeks. Joel wipes at the corners of his own eyes, still chuckling.

“Wouldn’t mind givin’ some of these a try one of these days, bet you’d be sexy flipped upside down or whatever the hell they were doin’,” Joel says, propped up on his elbow, his handsome eyes smoldering in your direction. The implication that many of the acts the fictional couple are doing involves things that your body hasn’t been cooperating enough to even go near makes you stiffen for a moment. Maybe a month ago, the comment would have wrecked you, sent you spiraling or feeling self conscious about this perceived insufficiency of yours, but now you let it slide right off your back.

You scrunch your nose at him, letting it fall into a sly smile as he flicks his eyes over you in appreciation. “Shush,” you tease. “We need to find out what happens next to… whatever their names are.” This had all been in good fun, and their names seemed secondary to the juicy details of their sex lives. 

“Axel and Ember.” Joel cuts in, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

You deadpan. “Right… Someone has been paying attention.”

“Go on, then…” Joel insists with sass, his hand motioning expectantly to the open book in your lap. You smirk before focusing on the page and continuing where you left off. You two read until both of your eyelids get heavy, the words muttered slower and slower, your bodies buzzing hotly with arousal from the content yet far too tired to do anything to make a move on the other person. 

“Tomorrow,” Joel utters in your ear just as you’re moving into that cozy, floaty, drifting sensation before it all goes black. “Tomorrow I’m gonna Axel your ass into oblivion.”

You’re awoken by a kiss, feather light upon your lips. Your lids flutter open to see Joel, his scruffy beard and unbearably cute bed head up close and personal with you. It’s barely light out, the room bathed in the pale blue glow that comes right before dawn. Your skimpy camisole strap has slid off your shoulder, the entire thing askew and leaving one of your tits bared to him. Joel’s eyes seem to be glued there before flicking back and forth between your now perky nipple and your face. His lips close around it, gently sucking, and you writhe, your body turning towards his.

“You’re so fuckin’ sexy,” he mutters against your hot skin, breath ghosting over your sensitive nipple. You shudder, your skin prickling with anticipation, the space between your thighs desperately empty. Going to bed so unsatisfied seemed to have done a number on the both of you as you’re now acutely aware Joel pressing up against you, his cock already hard and leaking.

“Joel…” you whine, hips bucking towards him.

He dives in, his lips devouring yours, shifting his body to straddle yours, grasping the sides of your face in his hands. His tongue laps into your mouth and you arch your back into the way his hips start to grind into yours, burning desire low in your belly. You’re already so damn wet from his teasing, more than you’ve ever been, built up longing spilling over from last night.

“I… want to try right now,” you finally manage to gasp out as his lips separate from yours for a brief second. He pauses, looking down at you, his heavy lidded eyes sincere as they dance over your features.

“You sure? It’s okay if we jus’ -”

“No. I’m sure,” you tell him. “I feel so good. I want to feel good with you.” Your fingers dig into his bare back, urging him on.

He only nods, his throat bobbing as he swallows. He places gentler kisses on your lips before moving to your neck, then down your body until he reaches the waistband of your sleep shorts. Tugging those down along with your panties, he moves with certainty and care, adoring your soft skin in every place along the way. 

He touches a gentle finger to your slit, so sensitive and swollen now, and you suck in a breath.

“Holy shit. God damn, baby,” he muses with awe, fire burning in his dark eyes.

You chuckle shakily, feeling your cheeks flush as you avert your eyes shyly. “I - I know. I need you.”

“Can practically feel her puslin’,” he growls, licking his lips, desire clouding his mind.

Your cheeks only grow hotter at his dirty words, pulling your lip between your teeth. “Taking a page from Axel’s book, I see,” you tease him breathily.

“Nah. This is all Joel Miller, baby,” he replies just as he uses his whole hand to cup your slick cunt, the both of you groaning quietly. Joel starts to shimmy his briefs down, leaving him completely stripped underneath the covers with you. You wait for him to climb back on top of you, carefully removing your top and taking you in.

“Perfect.” He smiles, and you wrap your legs around his waist, a silent signal that you’re ready. Joel reaches between your bodies, bringing his cock to your cunt, lazily moving it through the folds until he’s coated in your arousal, each stroke making your hips buck, your need climbing to an unbearable level.

“Please…” you whine, feeling the emptiness inside of you, craving that full sensation you’ve been romanticizing time and time again in your mind.

“I got you, baby. No matter what. I’m right here, ‘kay?” You feel him line himself up, trying to manage your expectations as you nod for him, swallowing down your nerves. Even if it doesn’t work this time, it’ll be okay, you’ll be oka -

The tip of his cock pushes past your entrance, and you gasp, eyes going wide. You both pause, staring at each other in an optimistic, full silence, breathing heavily.

You nod again, mouth agape. “More…” you whisper softly, taking a deep breath, trying to relax your body.

Joel smiles, pressing his hips into you the tiniest bit more. He still slides in with ease, the smallest pinch subsiding when he takes a beat, then pushes a little more, repeating the process a few times. You feel the stretch, the slight burn as your body adjusts, your mind racing at the miracle that’s occurring, barely even able to register it right now.

“Oh my god,” you mutter, starting to shake. Joel leans down to kiss you, a comforting move, but it only pushes his cock in another bit, making you gasp softly at the fullness.

To your shock, when he pulls back the sensation begins to near something pleasurable. “Sorry,” he quickly spits out, his concerned stare meeting yours.

“No. It’s good. A-again. Do that again.” You start to smile in earnest, a toothy grin that you can’t help but feel spread across your face. 

“What… this?” he asks coyly, more overt with the thrust inwards as he pulls his lips into yours. He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in and kissing the sensitive skin there. “You’re so wet, so fuckin’ tight, baby. You feel incredible.”

You shudder underneath him, moaning softly as his words travel right to your core, burning with a new kind of eagerness you’ve never felt before. “You feel so good,” you echo back to him as you pant.

Joel starts to move, testing the waters with slow, steady movements. You keep breathing, terrified that any minute the ball will drop or this will have been a dream or some cruel trick your body is playing on you. But the sporadic bursts of discomfort subside with each new roll of Joel’s hips, blooming into something pleasurable and sweet, pulling up from deep inside of you.

Emotion bubbles to the surface before you can even tame it, your eyes brimming with tears when Joel bottoms out inside of you, pulling back and pushing in to the hilt again. It feels good, amazing even, to be so full of him, to celebrate this victory, even if only for today.

“Shit. Sweetheart, you’re okay, right? Are you hurting?” Joel freezes when he sees your watery eyes, every muscle coiled stiffly, his face screwed up in fear.

You shake your head, fighting the urge to sob, but Joel’s faithful, genuine concern puts you over the edge. Tears spill, rolling down your cheeks in profound little streaks, every bit of your frustration and pain and anger from the last half of a year pouring out into this beautiful display of pure joy.

“I swear, I’m happy, I’m happy,” you cry out, immediately cradled in Joel’s arms.

“Good,” Joel breathes out in relief. “You’re happy, I’m the happiest fuckin’ guy in the world.”

His words make the tears flow faster, but you start to laugh amidst it all. “Stop making me cry harder!” you chastise him, hugging him tightly around the neck. 

“Joel…” you say after a long, tender embrace, the two of you soaking it in. His cock still throbs inside of you, reminding you of the pleasure you’d started to chase moments ago, lost to the emotion of the moment.

“Hm?” he asks, pulling his head from where it had been buried in the crook of your to look at you.

“Please fuck me now.”

He grins, the movement lighting up his entire face with a lusty glow before he eagerly crashes his lips with yours again. When you see his eyes again, you swear they’re a shade darker, his cheeks tinged with the color of desire. Low and gravelly, he finally speaks. 

“Grab your god damned vibrator, sweetheart.”

to answer your 💌 my writing process is a little all over the place! i used to write mostly linearly, that was what worked for me and i kind of thought of everything in order. but lately i have been doing a bit more doc hopping when i get stuck. maybe writing a later scene that i have ideas for and feel like it's more fleshed out or going back and polishing older paragraphs and such. i definitely am not a big outliner and plotter, which i'd like to get better about! but mostly everything just lives in my head and gets blobbed onto the doc once i have time to write it, which sometimes leaves things forgotten hehe

(divider by @/saradika-graphics!)

[thegreatmelodrama]

Propaganda and implicit submission are without a doubt two main themes explored within Sunrise on The Reaping. However, undergirding those themes is a motif(s) that is present throughout all of the books in the series: what we owe to each other. Such is tied with the notions of empathy and what it means to be a human being (and perhaps even the idea of special obligations, but that’s for another post). Such is, perhaps, more relevant than ever—especially in the U.S. We are at a point where it has become increasingly common to hear people say “you don’t owe anyone anything” (obviously there’s nuance here). Moreover, we live in a time (and perhaps for some always have) where empathy is considered radical. A capitalistic society thrives on the idea of “every man for himself” and within the world Hunger Games, the capitalistic authoritarian regime the same is true: the danger is in community.

We see this motif appear in Sunrise on The Reaping at various points in the story. In part I, we see Lenore Dove attempt to help Woodbine Chance’s Ma keep possession over her son’s body to prevent a peacekeeper from taking it. This wasn’t just driven by the desire to “paint a poster”, but by sheer empathy and belief that Mrs. Chance was owed a chance to properly say goodbye to her son and that Woodbine himself was owed autonomy even in death—that he was not property which the Capitol could take. That Lenore Dove could be hurt is what prompted Haymitch to intervene. His actions, deemed rebellious and radical, landed him in the Hunger Games. Rebellion can be understood in two ways (at least within this context): intentional acts and/or acts (sometimes spur of the moment) driven by a fundamental empathy. This empathy stems from an understanding of the intrinsic value of human life and belief that by virtue of being a human being we are equals. This entails the question of what owe one another: mutual respect and empathy (I won’t speak more on what else we might owe, but these two to a certain extent are agreed upon in various strands of philosophy).

We see this again in the days leading up to the games and within the arena itself. For example, Haymitch’s alliance with Louella and his desire to give Louella autonomy in death by trying to stall the Capitol taking her body. Empathy fuels the desire and intentional act to make Snow own the death of Louella. Furthermore, empathy and the idea of what we owe to each other is what makes Haymitch, Wyatt, Maysilee, Wiress, and Mags look out for Lou Lou. This girl isn’t Louella, and so one might think that they have every reason not to look out for this body double and ear piece to the Capitol. However, they don’t look at her and only see the “mutt” (although it took a few hours to get over their judgements). They see the little girl from District 11 who has been taken from her home and her family, starved, and stripped of her autonomy by the Capitol. In the arena, Haymitch looks out for Lou Lou, sharing his food and supplies with her, even though one might think he has no reason or obligation too. He does so anyway because he, rightly, sees the humanity in her. We see it in the way that Mags asks Haymitch, Maysilee, and Wyatt what they want, and how each of them, but especially Haymitch, seeks to uphold and respect that in the arena.

We see empathy and mutual respect within the formation of the Newcomers and Maysilee helping with people’s tokens. We see it in the way that Haymitch makes a promise to Beetee to ensure that Ampert does not suffer in death, even though he can’t fulfill this promise. He did not have to make such a promise beyond keeping Ampert alive to carry out the plan to break the arena—once again bringing to the fore the notion of what we owe to each other.

We see it with Maysilee and Haymitch helping their fellow allies. We see it in the way Haymitch seeks to protect and look out for Wellie. Of course there’s other considerations such as the belief that they won’t make it so they might as well help others to do so. There’s also the instance of Haymitch dropping the chocolate ball to Silka as she lay crying at the base of the tree. There are many more, but this is enough to show that this motif is prevalent throughout the entirety of the story and in fact undergirds the main themes the story explores.

Obviously there are complexities and nuance when you add in considerations of coercion, the complexities of living under a totalitarian regime, proportional violence, etc. However, the book shows that even in a system that is constantly trying to drill “every man for himself” and implicit submission, that the notion that we do in fact owe something to one another can transcend. That it defies exactly what the Capitol and Snow are trying to instill (division), is what makes it a radical act even when it shouldn’t be.

Again this question of what we owe to one another is nuanced and complex, especially when we apply it in real life. There are considerations to be made of special obligations, mutual respect, dynamics of oppressor and oppressed, what we are capable of, privileges, etc. What I am hoping to point out is that empathy and human dignity play a key role within this book and the others. It plays a fundamental element of human agency, and highlights a message within the story that no act is really too small.

[asgard23]

Nothing Left To Fall From

Bucky x Reader

Warning : this has a descriptive scene of cheating , mentions of rape,depression, trauma ,angst, just sad.

Broke my own heart writing this y’all😭

Summary: After a traumatic mission, Y/N pushes her boyfriend Bucky away, struggling with depression and a lack of intimacy. Despite the team's support, a betrayal leaves Y/N in deeper emotional pain, from which she feels she will never recover.

PT.2

The weight of the world felt lighter on your shoulders when he was near. Bucky Barnes. The ghost from the past who became your present, your impossible future. He was everything you hadn't known you needed, a steady anchor in a life that felt constantly adrift. And you loved him – loved him with a fierceness carved from shared scars and unspoken understanding.

But that was before. Before the mission.

The mission had broken something inside you. Something fundamental. A part of you that felt safe, that felt whole, was shattered into a million irreparable pieces. You came back, physically unharmed in the ways that mattered on a medical report, but psychologically fractured. Sleep offered no respite, only a replay of the screams, the smells, his touch.

Depression settled over you like a shroud, suffocating. The vibrant colors of your life had greyed. The captivating beauty people always commented on – it all faded into a monochrome existence. You retreated, not just from the world, but from the person you loved most. From Bucky.

He tried. Oh, how he tried. For six long months since you’d returned, he’d circled you, gentle yet persistent. He held your hand, cooked your favorite meals, just sat beside you in silence, his mere presence a silent plea. "Y/n," he'd whisper, his voice always rough with concern, "Talk to me. Please. What happened?"

But the words were stuck. Glued to your throat by terror and shame. How could you tell him? How could you vocalize the violation? You couldn’t even bear to think about it yourself without the world tilting on its axis.

Intimacy, the connection that had once felt as vital as air between you, became a foreign concept. The thought of touch, of being seen, of vulnerability, it sent shivers of revulsion through you. Sex? It hadn't happened since before the mission. Months of shared nights where he would hold you stiffly, a chasm growing between your bodies as wide as the hole in your heart. You felt his hurt, saw the confusion and pain flicker in his eyes, and the guilt clawed at your insides, adding another layer to the suffering. You loved him desperately, but you were drowning, and you were pulling him down with you.

Fury had insisted on counseling. A S.H.I.E.L.D therapist. You refused. Flatly. The idea of dissecting the horror felt like ripping open a wound that might never close.

Your friends visited, though. Steve, bless his earnest heart, would sit with you, sharing stories. Sam would crack jokes, trying to coax a smile. Wanda, with her gentle empathy, sometimes just sat and held your hand. The entire would visit you regularly.

But it was Natasha who was there most often. Your best friend. Nat. She didn't try to fix you. Didn't ask questions you couldn't answer. She’d climb into bed with you, under the covers, and just hold you. Sometimes you’d sob into her shoulder, the tears endless, and she’d just stroke your hair, murmuring soft comforts. On those days, Bucky would quietly leave. He saw the bond, understood that sometimes you needed a different kind of comfort, maybe one he, with his own complicated past, couldn't currently provide. He trusted Nat. You trusted Nat.

You remember one of those days, curled up with Nat, the world outside a blur. Her presence was a warmth against the coldness inside you. You felt safe with your best friend. Safe. The irony of that word, now.

Sometimes, when you were alone or when sleep finally claimed you, the memories would break through the dam you’d built.

Flashback

The air had the scent of a metallic tang of blood and something chemical. Your breath hitched in your throat. The concrete floor was cold against your skin, damp with an unknown liquid. You tried to move, but restraints dug into your wrists and ankles, biting into your flesh.

He stepped into your line of sight. A Hydra Captain. Not just any operative, but the one who had led the ambush, the one whose face was seared into your nightmares.

His smile was predatory. "Look at her," he sneered. "The beautiful Avenger's pet. So brave on the battlefield."

He knelt down, his touch sending a wave of pure terror through you. As he began to unbuckle his belt.

He leaned closer, his foul breath on your face. "Let's see how brave you are when you can't fight back."

Your screams were swallowed by the thick walls. The world narrowed to the feel of his hands, the cold, and utter powerlessness. You closed your eyes, trying to retreat into yourself, but there was nowhere to go. It went on and on, a timeless horror. Your body felt like it wasn't yours anymore, a vessel being defiled. When it was over, he stood, wiping his hands with a casual indifference that was almost worse than the act itself. He left you there, broken and discarded, the silence echoing with the phantom sounds of your own strangled cries.

End of Flashback

The memory would leave you breathless, trembling, the phantom touch lingering on your skin for hours. That was why you couldn't let Bucky touch you. Why the thought of intimacy was a physical pain. It wasn't him. It was him.

Six months. He'd been so patient, so loving, so hurt. And you had given him nothing. You saw the toll it took on him, the shadow deepening in his eyes. He felt impotent, unable to reach you, unable to help. You were pushing him away, and part of you, the sick, damaged part, wondered if he’d finally give up.

Tonight, though, glimpse of your spark motivated you. You looked in the mirror, really looked for the first time in months. The face staring back was gaunt, shadowed, but beneath the pain, you saw the ghost of the beauty you once knew. You felt a pang of guilt so sharp it stole your breath. He deserved better. He deserved the woman he fell in love with. He deserved you.

Maybe, just maybe, you could try. Try to climb out of the darkness, take a step towards him. You needed to talk to him. To try and explain, even if you couldn't bring yourself to say the worst parts.

You found a dress, the one he loved on you. A simple dress, emphasizing the curves he used to trace with such tenderness. You brushed your tangled hair, applied a touch of makeup, trying to mask the fatigue and sorrow. It felt strange, alien, like wearing someone else's skin.

You needed to see him. Needed to feel his presence, maybe even just sit near him and hold his hand without flinching. You knew he wasn't home. He'd been spending more time at the Tower lately, training late, maybe to burn off energy, or maybe to avoid the suffocating silence of your shared apartment.

You pinged his phone. Location: Avengers Tower. 11:47 PM. A slight frown creased your brow. Why was he here so late? It wasn't a mission night, wasn't a scheduled training. He should be home.

A ripple of unease went through you, quickly dismissed. He was Bucky. He had his reasons. You grabbed your keys and headed out, the cool night air could do nothing to the heat rising in your chest.

The Tower was eerily quiet when you arrived. You walked through the silent corridors. You headed towards the training area, assuming that's where he'd be if he was still here working out.

As you got closer, a sound reached you. Faint at first, then growing louder. Moans. A sound that sent a prickle of alarm up your spine. It was coming from the main combat training room. Your stomach tightened. Who was in there?

You crept closer, the sounds becoming unmistakable. Not sounds of pain or struggle, but of... pleasure. Your heart lurched. Who...? And then, the familiar inflection of a voice, a woman's voice, cut through the air. Natasha.

Panic flared. What was Nat doing in the training room with someone, making those kinds of sounds, this late? A knot of dread formed in your gut. You reached the doorway, peering around the frame, your breath catching in your throat.

The scene that unfolded before you ripped the fragile hope you'd nurtured minutes ago into a million agonizing pieces.

They were on the floor of the padded training mat. Completely naked, slick with sweat under the harsh overhead lights. Your Bucky. And your best friend. Nat.

Natasha was straddling him. Her red hair was damp and plastered to her neck and shoulders. Her breasts, full and bobbing with every movement, were directly in your line of sight. She was riding him, happily, relentlessly, her face tilted back, eyes rolled back in her head, a look of pure, bliss contorting her features. Her strong thighs were clamped tightly on either side of his hips as she bounced and swirled, using his chest for leverage, driving herself down onto him with a rhythm that echoed in the room.

Bucky was lying beneath her, his metal arm thrown back, his organic hand gripping her hip. His face was one of pleasure, eyes heavy-lidded, a low groan rumbling up from his chest as Natasha ground herself against him, taking him deeper with every movement.

You watched, horrified and unable to tear your eyes away. Bucky's metal arm was wrapped around her waist, steadying her, while his human hand reached up, grabbing, fondling her breast. Nat leaned back slightly, bracing her arms on his legs as she continued her mesmerizing swirl on his dick. Bucky’s hand shifted, reaching down, his fingers finding her clit. He began to rub soft circles, then faster, firmer. A move you knew too well, a touch that gave you ecstasy. Now it was hers.

You couldn't breathe. The air was filled with the scent of sex and betrayal. Your Bucky. Your Nat. Like this. Together. The pain that shot through you was instantaneous, devastating. It was worse than the time you'd taken a knife wound to the gut on a mission years ago. That was physical. This was…soul-deep. 

You wanted to run, to turn around and erase the image from your mind, but you were rooted to the spot, unable to tear your eyes away from the horrifying spectacle. You had to admit, through the haze of agony, that Natasha looked beautiful. Powerful, desirable. And it hurt even more. Like a physical blow. All those little things you’d dismissed, those moments of discomfort you’d buried  Natasha's gaze lingering on Bucky a second too long, their playful banter that sometimes felt just slightly charged, her subtle touches. She had wanted him. All along, she had wanted him.

Bucky shifted, placing both his feet flat on the mat. With his lower body now anchored, he began to thrust upwards, meeting Natasha's downward drive with powerful strokes. The sounds intensified. Skin slapping against skin, wet, heavy breaths, urgent moans.

"Oh, Buck! Yes! Just like that!" Natasha cried out, her voice raw with pleasure. Your tears, silent and unnoticed, finally began to run down your face, hot trails on your cold cheeks. You saw he wasn't even wearing protection. He was fucking her raw. This wasn't some brief, meaningless encounter; this felt... intimate. 

Bucky’s voice filled the air. "Oh fuck, Tasha, keep squeezing my dick just like that, you slut," The words, his words, directed at her, twisted the knife deeper. Your vision blurred, but you couldn't look away. You watched as they climaxed.

 And then came the horrifying proclamation, screamed out by your friend Natasha "Cum in me, Buck! Cum in me now!" she threw her head back, a long, drawn-out moan escaping her lips. 

And you saw him nod. "Yeah, baby," he groaned, his thrusts becoming faster, more desperate. He lifted his hips into her one final, shuddering time, burying himself deep inside her. Natasha cried out again, a joyous scream, her body convulsing around him. Bucky let out a guttural roar, his back arching, his face contorted in release as he poured himself into your best friend. Her body slumped onto his, exhausted and satisfied. They lay there for a moment, gasping for breath, the only sounds the ragged inhale and exhale of their lungs.

Then, Bucky shifted slightly. "Nat... we... we can't do this again."

The words hit you like you’d been punched, even softer than Natasha's previous scream.

"Again?" you thought, the small snippet of dialogue splintering your heart further. This hadn't been a one-time mistake, a moment of drunken weakness or unexpected passion. This had happened before.

Your heart was not just broken; it was pulverized. The betrayal was deeper, more sustained than you could have possibly imagined. They had been doing this behind your back.

You couldn’t hear anymore; the heartbreaking reality became overwhelming. Your legs, stiff from standing frozen, finally obeyed. You turned blindly, a gasp caught in your throat that you quickly choked back, suppressing a sob. You stumbled back from the doorframe, your eyes blurred with tears, turning and running, needing only to be away. 

You didn't look back. You ran down the corridor, not caring how much noise you made now your only thought was escape. As you rounded a corner, stumbling slightly on the floor where the carpet ended, something slipped from your clenched hand, something small against your palm moments before. You didn't even notice it fall. Your world had narrowed to the frantic pounding of your own heart and the desperate need to breathe air that wasn't tainted by their betrayal.

Back in the training room, silence settled around Bucky and Natasha as they slowly began to disentangle, catching their breath in the aftermath of the storm. Bucky shifted on the floor, preparing to stand, his gaze sweeping over the area closest to where they lay.

Something small glinted on the concrete floor near the entrance of the room, just beyond where the padded mats ended. It hadn't been there before. He reached for it, curious.

His hand froze as his fingers closed around the cold metal. It was small, a delicate silver charm shaped like a winter flower, intricately detailed, nestled on a thin, worn leather cord.

He knew it instantly. His blood ran cold.

Natasha, starting to sit up, followed his gaze. Her eyes widened, her breath catching in her throat as she saw what he held.

It was the charm Nat had made and given you for your birthday, just a few months ago. A symbol of your friendship, something she knew you cherished and often wore around your wrist or kept in your pocket. Bucky's face drained of colour, mirroring the dawning horror in Natasha's eyes.

The 'last time' was already too late.

They knew. They both knew.

The quiet horror in his eyes, the dread in hers, mirrored the silent scream tearing through your own vanished world as you fled blindly through the empty tower, leaving behind everything you thought you had.

[arthursfuckinghat]

The fate of Evelyn Miller is so fucking fascinating, I had no idea.

Although Dutch admired him like a saint, his books and writings were heavily criticized by others in the same field as him. Miller wrote very poetic and socially progressive novels (a big deal considering the time period), his empathy and understanding of the world around him was the main reason for the criticism.

He was painted as a fraud and a fool who had ideas far above his station, his books also sparked a lot of controversy in the gang. When Dutch tried sharing 'wisdom' from one of the books, Lenny was especially critical of Miller's philosophies. Lenny also said that Miller was a fraud, a man who came from a privileged life and was pretending to live like a lower class citizen. Dutch took it personally, but carried on reading, he does this in a few interactions with explaining or reading out some of Miller's writing to gang members.

But the interesting part is despite Dutch preaching Miller's philosophies and reading his books to the last letter, he proved to not fully understand the meaning behind the writings after all.

It was shown that Miller was an advocate for nature, the Wapiti, and native Americans in general. He tried to help them with the situation regarding the peace treaty and convinced Arthur to help them too. Miller's allyship with the Wapiti was met with a lot of scrutinization, he was insulted by guests at the mayor's party for sympathising with minorities, but Miller still aided them when they needed it.

And as we know, this is quite the opposite to what Dutch did. Dutch took advantage of the Wapiti and helped fuel the war between them and the army for his own gain. He preached his idea of a fair and free world, but killed innocents and indoctrinated the vulnerable. He preached second chances, but shot without hesitation. He preached loyalty, but left his sons to die.

I could go on, but ultimately, Miller was also critical of himself. He pushed himself hard to write and improve, so much so that he died of starvation whilst trying to finish his last book. His last request was wanting his body to be burned so he could soar in the air with the eagles.

Dutch loving and preaching Miller till his dying day only further cemented the hypocrisy that ran deep in Dutch as a person. He fed on the thrill that came from leading people to a 'better world' - and it killed them all.

[g0blintears]

[Yandere! Dead By Daylight x Reader]

Summary: You are a mystery to both the survivors and killers within the fog. A servant of darkness, a creature created by the entity itself, you are the shadow behind the scenes that provides the survivors with the necessities they need to survive, while also assisting killers with the weapons they need to sacrifice. You are a servant void of humanity, but not one that seeks out despair. An empty slate that perhaps just needs to be taught a little bit of hope and empathy to help the survivors escape once and for all.

Eight. Thrilling Tremors

Danny has always loved the horror genre.

Ever since he was a child, his father would tell him real life horror stories. Those stories of a cat chasing a mouse. A predator hunting down prey. It was all the same stories that ended with a field of bloodshed and a victor that would rise above it all…and Danny was absolutely fascinated with each thrilling tale.

Mutilated bodies would engrave itself into his mind. Haunting scenes with vivid details would replay in his head like a broken flickering filmstrip. From the creepy music to the dramatic pauses, Danny would find his heart pounding in his chest with a wide smile curving on his lips as he became enamored with each piece of horror media he consumed.

However, the exhilaration of facing the unknown, the details from the unsettling sounds to the tense atmosphere— none of those things were his favorite part. And for a while, Danny actually wasn’t sure what he loved so much about the genre. He knew he loved true horror. The real stories of monsters that lurk in the night. The real boogeyman that blends into society. He was captivated by true, raw horror. 

So, that begged the question, was he simply just entertained by the reality of human nature? Did he just enjoy seeing how ‘civilized’ people would react to the real demons that ran around with the same blood that they bled? 

Or, did he simply love horror because it fed into his own bloodlust?

When Danny brought his first horror story to life, he knew he had found the answer. Although his first design was sloppy, it was still created with passion that was driven by instinct, and that was when Danny had come to a realization. 

Humans are animals. They are destructive by nature. As intelligent and ‘evolved’ as they may be, Danny knew that all humans have primal instincts, and those instincts were bloody and chaotic. Some may deny it, but Danny knew the truth. And if he was going to accept his human nature as a whole, he may as well be creative with it.

So, Danny went on with his life, loving every second of it. He loved existing as a human. He loved having the ability to create. And most of all, he loved creating real life horror stories. Obviously, his passion is looked down upon. But that doesn’t stop him. If anything, Danny was glad that the playing field was so small. It made it easier for his work to stick out, and it made his stories even scarier.

However, as much as Danny adored bringing terror to the public, he always had to be cautious of his work. His designs needed to be perfect. Any flaw could wind him up in the electric chair. So, even if he loved sharing his stories, Danny would often feel dread when he would have to lay low under the radar. After completing each design, Danny would have to stop his work for a while, and that often gave him an uncomfortable itch that would sometimes leave him wishing he could freely create his stories without feeling the burden of the consequences.

It was simply just wishful thinking during those impatient times, but unknown to Danny, his wishes would be heard.

So, one could only imagine the delight he felt the moment he was wrapped around in a fog, a darkness consuming him until his eyes met the flickering red and orange flame of a campfire where an other-worldly being had suddenly emerged. Stepping in front of him from beyond a black fog, you had gazed down at Danny with empty, soulless [eye color] eyes as you introduced him to a realm of nightmares. 

And Danny was absolutely ecstatic to be there.

Like an artist given his own studio with an endless supply of paints and canvas, Danny was given the opportunity to perfect as many designs as he desired. And so, he would carry on like that in the realm. Danny would create different horror stories for all the survivors on every single map. He even learned to adapt his designs so they would come out flawless! 

It was fun for a while, but then…Danny got bored.

Don’t get him mistaken though. He still loved creating his designs, but he craved for something more. He needed a bigger project. Something that would give him a challenge. Something that would be his Mona Lisa. 

And then, there was you. 

The very first being that Danny had met in the realm. The very first being that Danny knew was on a completely different scale from him. You were something that looked human, but you weren’t. You were something extraordinary. And you were the first being that would become Danny’s new passion project— his muse, if you will.

Thus, leaving Danny to where he is now. 

One of his arms wrapped around your torso, fingers clenched around the fabric of your blazer as he dug into your waist. His other hand was wrapped around your arm and chest, leveling his blade up to your eyes. A smile curved on his lips from behind his mask as he gazed at your reflection in the knife. You were completely unfazed, just as he expected.

“Did I get you this time?” He asked in a hush, observing every feature of your face.

You stared into your own reflection, your eyes moving from your own empty stare before flickering over to the killer behind you. Although you couldn’t see him, Danny could practically feel your eyes bore into him as if he weren’t even wearing a mask to begin with.

“No. I knew you were approaching three minutes ago.” You responded, monotone as ever as you kept your expression stoic.

Danny wasn’t surprised by this, but your response did intrigue him. He had been stalking you earlier, and his interest was piqued when he saw you very subtly reaching out for the flames, so he knew that something was going on in your mind. Just what exactly was it?

Raising a brow, the male tilted his head, “That’s two minutes off from usual.” His voice rasped out. Gripping your torso tighter, Danny brought the blade to your neck and traced the sharp edge over your skin. His eyes focused on your reaction. “What’s on your mind?”

“Is this your question for our game?” You instead inquired, causing Danny to pause in thought.

Right.

Ever since Danny has made you his muse, he took it upon himself to learn everything about you so he could create the perfect design. After all, his first attempt didn’t go exactly as planned… so, he tried a new method— he made it a game between the two of you. He will be merciless in trials, and in exchange, he gets to ask you questions about yourself. 

Obviously, you accepted those terms. And so, he began with the obvious. 

“What is your name?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Where did you come from?”

“My creator.”

“Who is your creator?”

“The entity.”

“Why did she create you?”

“To serve.”

You were honest, but dry. He wasn’t sure if you were just clever to be wary of him, or if you truly couldn’t comprehend anything other than to follow orders. Regardless, Danny didn’t like that you gave him the obvious answers. You weren’t playing fair. Why should he be merciless in trials for you if you were just going to give him the copy and paste answers that you gave to every other killer and survivor?

So, he had to try something else.

He needed to dig deeper. More personal. He needed just a sliver of space that he could crawl his way into so he could witness just a glimpse into your mind. So far he had been asking all of the practical stuff, and up till now that’s gotten him nowhere since the start of his passion project. Not as if he was in any rush to start his design, of course. Danny is quite a patient man by nature, but he would be lying if he said he wasn’t getting annoyed by how bland you were being with him. 

Looking over your empty stare, Danny took a moment to study you. 

Danny is a people person. So he knew how to read people no matter the poker face, and you were no exception. Memorizing every detail of your features, the man could say with confidence that he could probably draw your face from memory. From the patterns in your irises, to any subtle wrinkle on your face. Danny had learned how to read your face. It was just getting you to change just the smallest detail that was the issue.

He needed you to open up. But how?

With his knife held tightly in his hand, Danny let out low, quiet breaths until finally he made a decision.

“Yeah,” he finally chuckled out, “This is my question for our game. What is on your mind right now?”

You still hadn’t moved, but your eyes did briefly glance over the masked killer once more before setting your stare to the fire in front of you where the flames highlighted your [skin tone] skin in a golden hue. 

“I’ve come to realize that I’ve long forgotten what ‘warmth’ feels like.” You spoke, a sort of interest lined within your words. 

This caught Danny’s attention. 

For as long as he’s studied you, he has not once heard or seen you show any kind of interest other than your assigned tasks. So having witnessed your fingers brushing over the campfire, and hearing the very subtle change in your tone, it hooked him in.

“I didn’t even realize you knew what that felt like.” He spoke, keeping a steady grip on his knife. “I thought you said you couldn’t feel anything.”

You took note of his slight change of demeanor, but you remained impassive as you hummed in response.

“Yes, well, I have felt cold before and I have felt warmth before, but it was a long while back.” You paused for a moment, “perhaps a few eons ago.”

“Oh?” Danny perked up, his blade ever so slightly pressing against your skin. His heart was beating quickly with excitement now that he seemed to finally be getting somewhere with you.

“And what might’ve made you lose your senses?” He asked, and for once in a very long time, Danny’s pupils dilated the moment he saw the faintest flicker of emotion appear in your eyes. 

Those usually vacant pools of [eye color]— they widened a bit. The colors brightened and he could see the crinkle at the very corner of your eyes shift from a misty void to a clear display of loss.

“I’m..unsure.”

Your voice, usually crisp and clear, seemed to have wavered a bit, leaving Danny with his heart pounding against his chest.

There. There it was.

He wasn’t sure if he was imagining the whole thing, but he swore for the first time that he saw a moment of weakness.

Danny hadn’t meant to do it. But he couldn’t help it. He pressed his knife hard against your skin. He felt a rush of adrenaline as he pressed the blade into your neck and pierce into your flesh.

He could see the blood trickle down your skin. That deep maroon color dribbling down your clear [skin tone] collarbone and staining your white dress shirt. He could practically smell the iron that stained his blade as he continued to press his knife deeper and deeper before twisting the handle and tearing it across your neck, practically decapitating your head from the rest of your body. 

Holding onto your torso tighter, Danny closed his eyes and savored the sounds of the quiet forest air that was filled with music from your choked gurgles.

Except… that wasn’t what happened.

For the moment his knife pressed into your neck, the blade instantly shattered.

Just like his first attempt on your life, any weapon that would try and penetrate your skin would instantly break like glass. 

Danny watched in stupor as shards of his blade fell into little bits and pieces onto the foggy ground. He was still in a daze, but much like his fallen knife, his illusion was shattered and left him standing behind you with his heart racing and mind numb from exhilaration. 

A long and heavy pause would ring in the forest air. Nothing but the sound of fire crackling would be heard as the two of you stood in silence.

While the killer was coming down from his high, you, on the other hand, stood there unconcerned. If anything, you had foreseen this coming from the moment The Ghostface tried to kill you the first time he brought a blade to your chest. You just figured he would try a different strategy since he wasn’t as bloodthirsty and adamant as The Shape. 

With your vision still fixated on the fire, you briefly moved your attention to the shattered blade on the ground before quickly looking back at the fire. Your body was still in the hands of Ghostface, granted his hold on you had loosened up, but you still kept yourself still as you looked over your shoulder to meet the masked killer’s eyes.

“It seems that you’ve accidentally shattered your knife again.” You commented, finally snapping Danny back to reality. 

Letting his arms fall to his side, Danny took a step back. He was pissed. He was so fucking angry that he didn’t get to actually tear into your throat. He didn’t actually get to experience seeing you bleed and die in his arms. 

However, as Danny stood silently behind you, from behind his mask, the man was practically glowing with joy. A smile was on his face as a breathless chuckle left his lips.

He was also very relieved. 

This is why you were his Mona Lisa. This is why he picked you to begin with. He was so glad you were going to be a challenge. If he had actually killed you, Danny was sure he’d make sure your body would rot from where you stood. But no. Danny was smart. There was a reason he chose you instead of one of the other survivors or killers in the realm. 

Letting out an airy laugh, Danny brought a hand to his head and ruffled his black hair from under his hood. 

He knew he made the right decision in choosing you.

While Danny laughed to himself, you simply stood there and observed. 

Humans, they were so odd. 

You know the sound he was making was that of laughter. You may not understand human nature, but you knew enough to realize that he was showing signs of amusement. You just couldn’t understand from what.

Once Danny settled down, the male finally looked over at you with a tilt of his head.

“This is why you’re my muse.” He commented with a sigh, and walked over to your side.

You couldn’t quite wrap your head around his interesting choice of words, but you didn’t get to dwell on it when he brought a hand to your shoulder. With his attention on his knife, Danny tilted his head in your direction.

“Do you mind?”

You blinked, “Mind?”

He smiled, “Fixing my knife. Can you work your magic again, sweetheart?”

“Oh.” Your eyes then flickered back to the blade broken into pieces on the ground at your feet. “Of course.”

Crouching down, you grabbed the handle of the knife and the biggest part of the blade. With your eyes glowing a [eye color] hue, a fog of black with golden particles floated into your hands and covered the broken pieces.

Danny watched in awe as his once shattered blade came back brand new. 

Again, he was practically grinning from ear to ear as he found that he was going to create the perfect design all for you. He was already buzzing with excitement just to see more of you. Whether you had or hadn’t actually expressed something earlier, Danny knew that either way you were already destined to be killed by his hands, and he was going to make sure that your death was going to be flawless.

Standing back up, you presented the knife to the killer, “Here you go.”

Carefully, Danny took the knife and twirled it in his hand. 

“Good as new,” he breathed out while practicing his jabs into the open air. With a smile, Danny pocketed the knife before turning his attention to you. “Thank you. Hope that didn’t take a lot out of you.”

You shook your head, “Not at all. If you need any more repairs to any of your weapons, I am here to assist.”

“Right, right. I’ll remember that,” Danny expressed lamely, before bringing a hand to his pocket. Still having his blood pumping vigorously through his veins, the male was nearly itching to start his trial. So digging into his pocket, Danny brought out three items: a chewed up pen, his old driver’s license, and originally he planned on taking out a shiny broken coin, but after the illusion of killing you, the killer was just driven by his murderous instincts to kill by his own hands.

So instead, the male brought out a bag. Opening up the small coin bag, Danny took a quick peek at the glowing red triangles and brought it over to you. 

“Do you think I can buy an offering?”

Your eyes not once wavered from his mask as you took his bag. With your eyes briefly flickering down to scan the bag, you kept your voice firm upon returning your attention to him, “What would you like?”

Danny’s eyes were feral and bloodshot. His smile was hurting his cheeks as he already began plotting his next few designs. He may not have been able to kill you today, but that didn’t mean he wouldn’t be able to create a horror story at all.

So with his head tilting playfully, Danny let out a raspy, shuddered breath. 

“I want a memento mori.”

You nodded. And again, the crawling mist all around the two of you swirled with life. It was comical to Danny. Because while a human skull was formed within your hands, the air around reeked of rotting death.

Breathing in the fog, Danny closed his eyes and relished in the silence of the blowing wind that moved the black mist. If he listened closely, Danny swore that he could hear ghastly whispers move with the rustling forest leaves.

Then, it was silent once more.

Opening his eyes, Danny turned his attention to you. He watched as you stared back into the campfire. With the glow of the fire highlighting your features, Danny took note of your expression.

He couldn’t read you again. You were as emotionless as a doll. Simply standing there with a pretty, flawless mask.

Flickering his attention from your side profile and back down to the skull in your open palms, Danny silently took the skull from your hands and tossed his pen, license, and skull into the campfire where the flames burst with life and shrilled a loud shrieks before returning to crackles. 

As Danny stood next to you at the campfire, the male kept his attention straight at the dancing fire. He wanted to get the trial started as soon as possible, while he was still in a pleasant mood.

[jinnie-ret]

silent cry

seo changbin x female!reader

genre: descriptive angst that turns into sickeningly sweet fluff at the end

content warnings: depressive tendencies implied, dependency

word count: 1.2k

summary: she hid her thoughts and struggles to not burden her boyfriend, but he catches her in tears

requested: 🕷️anon

this may have veered off slightly off of what the original request was but I hope you still enjoy! I loved writing this one, feel rly proud of it :)

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It was a hard thing to navigate sometimes, emotions. Often she felt as if something was wrong with her. Why couldn't she embrace and confront those sadder, darker feelings, when the love of her life was someone who championed every little thing she did?

Changbin was smart, intuitive, and incredibly aware of how those around him felt. His empathy, pureness and generosity was something many couldn't comprehend, so it was no surprise he had many idol friends. The level of extraordinary observation he carried only increased tenfold when he was with her.

But being without him, it was a different story. To be without him, cast a darkness over the sun that was coming out of hiding, and bringing warmth to her days. To be without him, was to snuggle up into bed, alone, and wrap herself tightly in crumpled blankets to try and imagine his arms encompassing her safely as she entered a dreamlike state. To be without him, was a nightmare that rattled her bones as cries wracked through her body in the early hours of the morning.

To be without him, was to live a life where she couldn't be.

Some may say it's dramatic. How could someone solely depend on another so much that they felt as if they had lost a part of them when they were not together? The answer wasn't simple. Anyone could have their own interpretation of the situation, but what really mattered was the way that their souls had intertwined and formed a love so strong and unbreakable.

That love would stretch a lot of the time. The distance that existed when she was apart from Changbin taunted her, tugging her heart towards where it belonged. Yes, maybe her heart didn't belong in a Stray Kids fanmeeting, or a tour around the world, but it was meant to be with him. Changbin knew it too. He just didn't know the extent of how bad things were getting because his partner had mastered the skill of presenting a facade through texts, video calls... you name it.

There were other things going on in her life, there always were, and he had helped her understand what was happening and how she could healthily support herself. She was struggling to wrap her brain around everything however, when she didn't have her lifeline next to her. Instead, she was holed up in their shared bedroom, aimlessly scrolling through her phone in attempt to divert and distract her mind. So much so, that when Changbin had arrived home early to surprise her, she didn't really believe it.

Perhaps it was a fever dream?

"Hey honey," Changbin cooed gently as he entered the dark room, weakly lit by the brightness of her phone and the dying bulb of the salt lamp they had. Damn, he needed to replace that soon. There were other things he needed to worry over first though.

She didn't respond. Her spiraling that had occured with his absence was clear to see. Curtains and blinds shut. Dirty dishes. Clothes strewn across the floor where, hey, at least she had been able to change into something different.

"Jagi?" Changbin whispered lightly, now crouched down next to her by the bed as he knelt on the floor, not quite touching her yet as he didn't want to overwhelm her. He was good like that, knowing exactly how she worked.

Again, no response. In truth, she felt that tug on her heart and knew he was there, but something within her, like a subconscious turning of cogs, fueled a robotic motion of continuing to fixate onto her phone.

"I'm here now," Changbin whispered, thick fingers delicately smoothing across her knee as he waited patiently for her to be ready.

And just like that, her phone was now beside her as she gazed ahead of her, no eye contact made yet but the twitches of her thumbs without nothing to hold, and the way her lips pursed together to stop anything from escaping her gave away some telltale signs to Changbin that she really had been going through it.

"That's it, I'm here," Changbin's deep, husky voice unleashed the floodgates as tears streamed down her face, chest stuttering with it's normal rhythm as she refused to let any sobs echo between the walls. His hands connected with hers, squeezing gently.

"I hate how much I miss you," she attempted to whisper, but with the lump in her throat rising the turmoil she had been facing revealed itself.

"Oh honey," Changbin felt himself tearing up but he calmed himself in order to remain stable for her. That's just what he was. A reliable pillar for her weight to rest against as he pulled her against him, joining her in bed and cradling her tenderly.

"I don't know why-" she cried, hands resting at his lower back and she desperately clutched onto him, squeezing the soft fabric of his black hoodie to tell herself he was here. She was safe. She was ok. And with him, all of the stress would alleviate and float away. With him, the fogginess that clouded her judgement would leave. With him, her silent cries that were cruelly locked away, could be unleashed and heard.

"I've got you, it's ok, I'm with you, and I'm here now, ok?" Changbin's lips pressed a kiss into her hairline, as he relished this moment of having her with him too.

"I wish I wasn't like this. I just... I need you. Always. Some days it's just harder," she sniffled, bravely shifting into his arms to climb over the walls she had built around her and finally stare into his eyes. The very ones that made her putty.

"Those days will get better. When you let go, when you can let everything out, it feels better, right?" Changbin rested his head against her, searching, scanning for anything she'd try to hide. He found comfort that there were no signs of caged thoughts being left unsaid.

"It does. You're right. You always are," she nodded ever so slightly, as not to break this close intimacy she was receiving, what she had craved for these past two weeks.

"Mm, aren't you lucky?" Changbin smirked but without any trace of joking or performative arrogance.

"I am, I'm so lucky. Sometimes it doesn't feel real that you're here with me, because I can't even comprehend that, like... That I'm with you," she said with utmost sincerity lacing her words.

"Aigoo, this is why I like to hear what's on your mind. My honey is so good with her words," Changbin chuckled, nuzzling his nose against hers, smiling brightly when he heard a giggle that came straight after his.

"I'm not," she protested, looking down.

"No, don't do that, I need your pretty eyes in my sights," he tilted her head up.

"Gonna cost you," she joked. There it was, the warmth was back. The light was back, despite the cave like lighting in the room. He could so easily bring out that side of her, and help her to forget about her struggles and simply exist around him, being her true authentic self. He helped her to be.

"Yah! I shouldn't have to pay!"

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tagged: @skz-streamer @kiraisastay @hannahhbahng @kpopmenace143 @sakufilms @kailee08 @arloo00 @dunno-wut-to-do @splat00z @cheesemonky @his-angell @turtledove824 @2minstan @royal-shinigami @yangbbokari @skzoologist @crabrangoongirl25 @atinyniki @writingforstraykids @minholing @lilmisssona @astraysimp @lixie-phoria

[worfs-glorious-hair]

Druid!Tav and Sneaky God!Gale (post romance after finale) ft. Druid!Tav x Halsin (post game) HCs *Part 1*

- What are we going to do next? get out of the city, I‘ve heard Amn is very nice this time of year —> is in absolute denial and hates the world. Is not in the mood to celebrate whatsoever and just wants to leave. This city has no place for them, nor have they a future there. Not when it had taken everything from them today

- “it was worth everything you sacrificed” Really? I am not so sure. “Whether I condemn the world or not, I choose you!”… what happened to that? It turned into “whether I condemn the world you and I have built together or not, I leave behind everything we have and fought for to pursue the misleading promise of unlimited powers in hopes that I will find the peace of mind there that you gave me without even asking already”

- Tav goes to Avernus with Wyll and Karlach. „I will not loose another one I love today“

- uses their rage and grief to fight whatever hell throws at them, doesn’t think and won’t feel. Fighting has become so ingrained into their life that it is easier to do just that, do what they have done nearly daily for so much time now and to focus on the task ahead. Having a task, a quest, is good. Having a goal is good. Otherwise I would loose myself in the pain I do not dare to feel

- But the first time the three of them get to breathe and rest after they arrived in Avernus Tav breaks down. The final fight, the uncertainty, the terror, saying their goodbyes before getting into the rowing boat and swearing their love. And Gale turning colder, more distant by the minute, the closer they come to the brain, to the crown, like he never was before. Not even when they had just met and were still strangers had he been that cold. Now he just cared about the crown. Not even asking Tav if they were okay after they tried to use the netherstones against the brain and nearly loosing, if it weren’t for the Emperor. No words, no feelings of love left in his heart twisted by ambition. Freeing Orpheus and turning against the Emperor, or the Emperor against them, Gale choosing the crown over Tav after the brain’s fall into the Chionthar. It was all too much and Tav was only human. And weak from fighting. Weak from loosing the one, they thought they would not loose. Not to the crown.

- And Karlach and Wyll hold them, let them cry and scream and gasp and beg Gale to come back. They hum and soothe and kiss Tav’s temples and cocoon them in their love. And their shared grief. And Tav clings to them, clings to their friends, their companions, their touch, their love. Clings to Karlach, who they can finally touch and feel under their fingers

- And on the party in the wilderness six months later is everything even worse. Gale arrives in a flick of light that holds none of the magic Tav has grown to love and to recognise wherever it appeared. This magic is ice cold and distant like the stars. There is no buzzing life behind, no power of creation and wonder. Just pure, calculated ambition. And with too much ambition there is no room for love, empathy or just slowing down to just be for one moment left. And what he made himself look like. He was bulky, a statue and just as sturdy, cold and lifeless. Where once had been broad shoulders with his surprisingly strong arms and soft, warm flesh on his belly and thighs there was now only a body like divine granite, again just like the stars. Ice cold and far away with not one wish, not one dream between them. No one would listen, there was no kind, answering wishing star. And his eyes, they were even worse. Unrecognisable voids of light, where once had been his warm, gentle eyes, full of curiosity and with either a sparkle of confidence or love. Often times both. Eyes that were once alive with life itself. All gone. Maybe the worst was his voice after all, so distant and arrogant. The step in it was gone, the gentleness, the confidence, the kindness. But most importantly the warmth, the life, the cheerfulness, the optimism. Gone. Tav could barely look at him. It was terrible.

- He does not offer (again) that Tav could become his Chosen and they would not agree anyways. The Gale they love is dead. Gone. Replaced by a grotesque figure with the shadow of the face of the man they love beyond everything

- Tara blames Tav for what he became and they can only agree. “If only I could have done more, if only I could have found better words, if I had loved him more, shown it more, if I wouldn’t have let him read that damn book he would maybe still be with us… I am so sorry, Tara, I took him away from you….” But she admits that he was, unfortunately still is, his own person, with his own decisions to make. “He is the biggest fool in the realms, to give up everything, to give up you and your love for his ambitions”, Tara hisses and the shadow of a smile hushes over Tav’s face for the first time in a very long time. Tara is the only living soul who hates Gale, no, who hates the god he twisted himself into, more than Tav. And they both still adore Gale the man they love and have lost. Tav agrees to meet Gale’s mother once they can return from Avernus when Karlach’s heart is permanently fixed. It will bring them all closure, hopefully, one day

- Tav clings to Shadowheart at the party, is unwilling to let her go. Their first friendly face on this journey, their first friend. And Shadowheart holds Tav close, strokes their hair and kisses their temples and whispers soothing nothings into their ear. Shadowheart tells Tav what she has been up to and Tav listens. At least someone can be happy with their love. But Tav’s heart clenches painfully as Shadowheart tells them about the cloister in Waterdeep. And Shadowheart must have seen it, felt it and her face drops. “I am so sorry”, she whispers, terrified. “Don’t be. I guess it’s on me when the mere mention of that damned place I don’t even know makes me want to scream…”, Tav says and Shadowheart gently shakes her head. “You wanted a future there, you had plans for that ‘damned place’. And they were taken from you. Let it out. I am here.” And she pulls Tav in for another close hug as she repeats the words that Tav had used that night in another life when the both of them stood in front a forgotten Selûne shrine after she had to let go of her parents in the cloister underneath the House of Grief in Baldur’s Gate.

- Tav cuddles with Scratch and cries into his fur. And Scratch understands enough. He said that one smell was different. Not different like everyone’s smells got different over time but was still recognisable, but different as in bad. “The grey glowing man, he smells cold and odd. He was not here before, wasn’t he, friend?”, Scratch asks and looks up with big soulful eyes. And Tav shakes their head, tears still falling. “No, he wasn’t there with us back then. But he is here now and we have to live with that. We can not bring…”, Tav’s voice breaks. “There is nothing we can do about it now.” And Scratch cuddles closer and Tav hugs him tightly.

- Tav doesn’t care, it doesn’t matter if he sees them like that. Crying. Heartbroken. He doesn’t care about them anymore. There is no compassion left in him to care. Nothing left that loves. And nothing to love for them but that what is now lost.

- Jaheira sits down with Tav for a while, playing with Scratch and her rat friend. Both sit mostly in silence but there is understanding, comfort. And a promise. Say the word and I’ll send the so called god of ambition to where he came from! It makes Tav’s heart a tiny bit lighter and they even manage something like a tiny smile at Jaheira. It’s good to know that this stubborn woman hasn’t changed, that she will have their back no matter what

- And Tav clings to Halsin at the party. Hides in his arms from the world, when they finally hug and doesn’t want to let go ever again. Tav wants to hear everything, about the Tiefling children he cares about, Thaniel and Oliver and the healing, growing lands. Tav feels a pull to see it for themselves, they had wanted to see these lands heal since the day they had killed Ketheric but their odd little group had to venture forth to Baldur’s Gate. It was Tav’s biggest victory on this journey, freeing the lands and bringing back the balance. For once they had felt like a druid there again, not a warrior that was drafted unprepared into a war.

- Halsin feels comfortable, safe, warm. One look into his kind, gentle eyes and they are reminded what they have always felt like in his presence. Seen. Adored. Loved. Warm. Safe.

- Warm, big, gentle Halsin who had confessed his love, his adoration for Tav during their journey, only to be abducted by Orin shortly after. Tav had declined that day but had told him “if anyone could convince me to try your route of love and relationships it would be you”.

- Tav wants to stay with Halsin, wants to go back to Reithwin with him, care for the lands. Care for the children. Be a druid again! Keeping his arms around them in hopes that it would chase the nightmares away. The nightmares of Avernus, a place with no green, no life, no gentleness and the nightmares of the docks with an orange burning sky, so much like Avernus. The nightmares of him bowing and turning around, leaving without so much of a word of love, without a touch to their cheek, their hand, anything. Without turning back around to come back to them. The nightmares where they can hear their own desperate voice calling out for Gale to come back, to please return… The nightmares in which a choir of their shared voices will always chant IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou But it is never enough. Instead the voice of Tav and the voice of Gale mocks them. Reminds them of what they have lost

- Tav, Karlach and Wyll return to Avernus after the party. Never would Tav let Karlach be alone again. They have promised her that on the docks and they would stick to their words. And they have promised her so many times to stay with her until the very end. And they honour their promise. Even though Tav yearns for a place to call home. A place to rest. For Reithwin. No. It is not a what they yearn for, it is a who. For Halsin’s gentleness and his healing touch. They yearn for Halsin’s unconditional and selfless love. His kind, generous eyes. His warm hands. His comforting voice. His subtle, hidden lightheartedness and playfulness.

- They keep the duck he has made for them close when they sleep. Enchants it so that it is immune to most damage that could hit it in Avernus. And they enchant it to return to their pack if it should ever be farther away from it than three meters.

- Tav finally returns to the material plane after fixing Karlach heart with the blueprints they found and infiltrating Zariel’s forge.

- The moment Tav knows that Karlach is finally safe and sound is the moment they race to Reithwin. It is the moment they race home!

- Wyll continues to hunt the fiends and foes who threaten Faerûn and Karlach looks for her place to be on the surface and in the light of the world. But both do it not before helping Tav to get to the place where they can just be and finally rest from their hardships

- Karlach and Wyll accompany Tav, of course! They want to know they are safe, there is no way in hell and all the realms they would let Tav go on their own. After everything they had done for them. Everything they had lost and won.

- Tav sends a bird to inform Halsin of their arrival and it takes less time than it should until Tav, who is currently in their wolf wild shape – it makes not thinking, not feeling easier– picks up the galloping of heavy paws in the distance and they rush on

- Their paths meet on a clearing in a small patch of forest, wolf and bear. Just looking at each other.

- Tav and Halsin stumble out of their wild shapes and into their arms. And the world feels a little more round again.

- “Let me stay by your side. I want to rebuild this land, care for the children and hide away from the world in your arms!”, Tav mumbles into his chest. “Of course, dearest heart. I have waited so long for you to come. You are everything to me…” – “please don’t say that! I’ve heard that before and you know how this went… It is enough for me that you care for me, that you want to take care of me. Let this be enough! Please!” – And Halsin just pulls Tav close to him and strokes their hair. “Whatever you need of me!”

- Together they (Tav, Karlach, Wyll and Halsin) return to what had been the shadow cursed lands to Halsin’s refuge.

- Wyll and Karlach stay as well for a while, playing, bonding with the children. Teaching them, letting them teach them the ways of life in Reithwin and keeping some of the work out of Halsin’s hands, so that he can focus his whole attention to Tav

- Tav who can’t believe what they are seeing, who finally see the land healed. Tav who spends the first days just running around the lands, in wild shapes and as a human and just looks at everything. They also find the spots they used to camp at and they cry and remember and scream at the sky. It’s not a prayer. It’s just rage. “You fool, you damned fool. We could have had it all. And you threw it all away. I hope you are happy now. Because I am not. But I will be again! I promise you that! You weak shadow of a man, was loosing the world you fought so hard to preserve, the people who saved your life a thousand times over, who you saved just as much, were those people who loved you most worth loosing to godhood? Was it worth to give me up for your ambitions? I hope it was, because I am not forgiving you!”

- Halsin usually finds Tav then and leads them away from the bad memories

- And Tav lets Halsin guide them back to nature and to life.

- “Help me be a druid again. Not a warrior, not a hero, just a druid caring for Silvanus’ creation like we are called to do… Like I was doing once before…”, they often plead to him when grief and sorrow overflows and they just remember the armours they wore and the weapons they wielded and the pain and the death and the suffering– “You have always been a druid, my dearest heart, through it all. Your guidance, your love, your strength by nature, through Silvanus’ grace, your perseverance. You guided us, you captained us. You healed us, my dear love, you healed this land! And then you healed the world…” And Tav sighs and let Halsin fondle their head, pulling them gentle into his chest and let his steady heartbeat ground them again

- Tav lives a secluded life with Halsin in Reitwhin, barely anyone besides their former companions, their family, knows where to find “the hero of Baldur’s Gate”

- Tav does not want the title and they certainly do not want to see the city again

- Instead they live to see their greatest achievement, their biggest victory on their journey, grow and heal (just like them)

- But they make sure to use the power and the authority they hold anyways, no matter if they want it or not, well. They make sure that for the heroes’ monument in the High Halls everyone is depicted as their true selves, most of all Gale. He is shown as the man he was, kind, caring and generous with his beautiful magic. He is shown looking out for those he cared about and clad in the simple robe he wore on the day Tav pulled him out of that portal, with a quarterstaff on his back and with one hand casting a shield on his companions while the other hurls a fire bolt at an enemy in the distance —> this is the Gale the world should know about, this is the Gale the world should remember, this is the Gale that deserves monuments and statues.

[And in case Gale detonated the orb this is the only statue they should erect, Tav thinks. The only hero who truly counts. He sacrificed everything this day, maybe even his soul. But nobody wants to listen to them. The higher ups of Baldur’s Gate remind Tav of what the group of theirs did that lead to the destruction of the Absolute and insist that they all deserve a monument just as much.]

- So Tav reluctantly agrees but only does so if they show Tav in their wild shape at Gale’s side. He loved their wild shape and Tav does not want to be shown with their face there. The face he had turned away from after everything. The face he had once kissed with all his might, promising them a brighter day, a new dawn. And Halsin and Jaheira join Tav on the monument in their wild shapes in solidarity. Jaheira says that she already has had her hero’s moments and monuments and would prefer some quietness but her eyes are soft and compassionate. Tav knows she does it for them. And Halsin, well, he prefers his bear shape anyways. But he adds: “I belong where you are. Wherever you need me. I promised you that a long time ago and this promise will not be broken, not as long I am alive!” So panther, bear and wolf stand together at Gale’s feet, ready to attack, ready to defend the true hero (according to Tav in case of the detonated orb)

- And after the monument was erected was there suddenly a significant amount of very ambitious people of all kinds who cared for the monument, polished and oiled the stone and if anyone dared to touch it in ill intend were they ready to fight them to the blood

- there were rumours in the weave, in the magic of nature, anything that could command magic heard them, felt them. Do not lay so much as a finger on the monument of the Heroes of High Hall. Expect my wrath if you fail to do so! Protect the wolf from any harm! Because I was unable to.

- And oddly enough and despite anything it calms Tav’s soul. Maybe there is a part of him that is still him, who regrets what happened. A part of him that is still him and is maybe terrified at what happened. Maybe he suffers just as much as Tav does

Part 2 here

[ghostnotoast]

I'm having withdrawal symptoms from waiting for the new episode to come out, and this has been buzzing around my head since this part came out (also I wanna talk about my wife Lily)

Relistening to this part twice made me cry I'm not even gonna lie but weirdly enough it made me think of the end of season 1 where John gets a taste of being the king for a split second but then chooses to go back to Arthur. After he returns, he says:

"But it was in that time in the hospital, that month alone. Trapped in this body without you, when something changed"

"I found meaning. I found that the challenges of life within the boundaries of death were not only acceptable, but could be meaningful. That without a purpose I could forge my own. Is that humanity?"

Don't get me wrong, I don't think it was Lily who was fully responsible for giving John humanity - if anything, that's the mistake Arthur makes in season 3 when comparing John to Yellow (which John calls him out for). It was Arthur who laid out the pieces, and Lily was basically the one to make it click.

Buttt I think reducing John's reason for humanity to only one thing is almost a disservice- because developing a sense of self is so much more complex than that.

It was Arthur's love, it was the stories and thoughts he would share with John, it was being in awe of seeing trees and nature again after so long of living in the dark, it was hearing music, it was listening to the radio, it was the joy he felt after they complished something and he was finally able to feel something other than fear, it was seeing the wraith help them, it was holding a cute baby and picturing her future as a pianist, it was seeing her mother and recognising that she had just lost something priceless, it was having to hold onto hope that anyone is capable of redemption, it was defending and having empathy for the widow despite what Arthur had said.

The last moment is paralleled in season 3 with their conversation about Yellow. Listening to all these makes me realise just how much Yellow missed out on.

Arthur no doubt played a massive role in helping John find humanity and meaning, but honesty? I don't know if purely being with Arthur is what made John who he is. John himself has a conscious and had to make decisions on his own and, on multiple occasions, fights Arthur about ideology with basically little to no outside influence (e.g, their infamous first divorce).

Despite all that though, I still do think Arthur was one of the biggest reasons, I mean just look at Yellow 😭 I'll write an entire essay about him one day

But this entire yap session was basically me trying to imagine what exactly was so special about that month at the hospital because let's be real if I were John I would go crazy BUT sometimes i just imagine John being there, in a hospital without Arthur, being able to do nothing but think

He thinks about the bright clear blue sky he saw, a bird that landed on the windowsill when they were at the library, he thinks about how alive this world is compared to where he came from, he thinks about the radio that's playing, he thinks about the piano, and then he thinks about Arthur

And I imagine he looks at Lily, at her tending to them, at her chatting to them, at her turning on the radio for them so they're not bored and even though people would call all these extra bits of care pointless - she does it anyway, and she does it for them, and John is there to witness this, and that's the moment where it clicks.

I imagine it sort of being like being moved back to see a finished puzzle and finally understanding what you've been making this entire time after spending so long up close looking at individual pieces

And I think that's what the witch didn't understand about John's story. Lily's care was the climax of John becoming John, and even though John acknowledges that for her it was probably another Tuesday - it still doesn't dampen the fondness and love he has for her, he just loves for the sake of it

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/impossiblycolorfulpanda/775777438806556672/being-an-azulaang-hater-because-of-the-whole?source=share

I know you don't like azulaang, but what do you think about these arguments in favor of it? Do they hold any water?

Absolutely not and for the very reason that makes me dislike the ship: if falls apart if the characters are not being grossly mischaracterized.

They're right that Aang being a pacifist does not make him a push-over, that he needs to think like a firebender to master that element, that Azula not being a saint doesn't make her the devil, and that any good Enemies To Lovers ship doesn't just skip straight to the lovers bit, there's a lot of development in between. But everything else was nonsense.

"Azula was but a humble servant of her cause"

Azula doesn't have a humble bone in her body. She was a PROUD enforcer of her cause, from a position of great privilege. She was a TERRIFIED servant of Ozai, and Ozai alone, no other Fire Lord. Even post redemption, her ambition and pride would remain because these are not BAD things when combined with empathy for others.

She's a patriot through and through, and even if she were to grow to respect/care for the rest of the world, her priority would still be her own nation. She's a proud princess that very much LOVES that position of great power. There's a reason why, even on the ONE episode where she's trying to see if people would like her for who she is, without knowing she's a princess, she still lets her mask slip and goes on and on about world domination. Regardless of it being a result of nature, nurture or both, ambition and the desire to be better than others is a core part of Azula's character.

Meanwhile Aang is a humble, reluctant servant of his cause to the entire world, because he's completely uninterested in what it means. He wants to be a normal person minding his business and having fun, he would have gladly ran away from his role as the Avatar forever if it didn't mean innocent people would suffer. His role is a cross he has to bear, not something he cherishes and openly pursues.

This is quite the clash of goals and outlook in life - one so big that cannot be reconciled. I went from indifferent to Azulaang to actively hating it because every single "good" fanfic and meta that I was recommended about that ship either robbed Azula of anything that wasn't the "I'm sorry for the evil I've done and I want love" part of her character, or that completely re-wrote Aang's personality to make him some cunning, ambitious political figure.

"If Aang got around to mastering all sub-bending techniques, some non-bender skills, and basically became a one-man team avatar, Azula would be aroused or at least intrigued"

No, she would not, and the proof of it is that becoming the most powerful person alive was literally part of Aang's canonical arc and Azula did not give a shit about him because "He needs to die/be captured so my nation wins the war."

At no point do we see her being fascinated by him, or any bender, that isn't her father. At no point does she show genuine respect towards any kind of authority figure that isn't Fire Lord OZAI. Even her few attempts to praise strong, competent benders from other nations involved calling the Dai Li her souveniers and saying she loves the killer instinct that is "SO firebender". Even her attempt to date Chan has more to do with proving that she can get a popular guy (who is the son of a FIRE NATION general) to like her, but at no point does she seem to think of him as anything other than a trophy to win and go "See? Ty Lee isn't the only one popular with guys!"

Azula worships a very specific brand of power - the absolute, unquestionable, divine right to rule kind of power (with an openly racist, imperialist, elitist agenda), and ONLY when it applies to the relative that she (wrongfully) believes is the one person on Earth that actually loves her. Part of the reason she's still so obsessed with Zuko in the comics is because he's taking on the role that used to be Ozai's and Azula is actively trying to make him more like their father (on top already naturally looking like him since Ozai's design is based on Zuko's).

THAT is the kind of "attraction to power" that Azula experiences. It's very specific, freudian as hell, super unhealthy, extremely ego-based, openly racist and elitist, basically destroyed her life and is something she'd desperately need to have under control if she's to ever have ANY kind of healthy relationship, otherwise she'd either mistreat her partner or at most be condependent as fuck.

And, again, Aang wants to be normal. He wants to be seen for who he is. Even if Azula were to be attracted to him because Avatar = Power, he would just feel like this means she fundamentally doesn't understand/like who he actually is as a person, and he would also be worried about what this means for her mental health, and he'd be right to conclude all that.

And that ties into a thing I mentioned at the start: Aang needing to think like a firebender to master that element. That is true... but Aang thinks like a HEALTHY firebender. One that is aware fire is life instead of just destruction, one that wants to be careful with it to avoid causing unnecessary harm/damage, one that is based on spirituality.

Azula thinks like a SICK firebender. One that has been poisoned by ego and literal propaganda. She openly uses it to threaten people into submission, and she's all about suporting her dad using it to burn the world down so they can rule over the ashes. She's a prodigy with unbelievable raw talent, but her pursuit of "perfection" (aka an arrogant, harmful need to not have any kind of weakness) literally drives her insane and ruins every single relationship that ever meant anything to her.

Aang being a firebender doesn't automatically mean he thinks like Azula. If anything, Zuko is the character that can connect with both of them, since he is now a "heallthy" firebender like Aang, but used to be a "sick" one like Azula.

That's my main problem with Azulaang as a ship: you need other characters or radically different circumstances to bridge the ABSURD gap between them. The only things they have in common are raw power and a fuckton of trauma over being given too much responsibility at such a young age, and even their way of handling these are so radically different that the idea of them falling for each other is laughable. They are opposites with little to no common ground, meaning they don't compliment each other, they just clash.

And I won't even get into the nonsense rant at the end about "People only hate on this precious ship because EVIL Bryke talked shit about ZUTARA nearly two decades ago and I'm still bitter." Bryke literally gave you guys fanservice and hasn't said anything bad about this fucking ship in years even though zutarians literally tried to label them as misogynists and even pedophiles.

You don't have the moral high ground, you're not fighting against oppression, you're just attached to non-canon ships and because you're trying to make it your entire personality you take people disliking them as a personal attack. It's all in your head - get over yourselves.

[cherrygukkie]

Late Night Encounters Pt. 3| jjk

Word count: 4,114+

A/N: Here is part 3 of Late Night Encounters. I hope you all enjoy reading! please don’t be afraid to give feedback. <3

••••

Questions raced throughout your mind.

How did Jungkook and Gaia know each other?

How was it possible that both of your enemies were friends?

Most importantly… What was their connection?

Her arrival was expected, but her and Jungkook being a pair was unexpected. Everyone knows that you and Gaia hate each other's guts, which is why you thought Jungkook was doing this for some twisted joke…

The history between you and her goes way back not from only being rivals...

Others would assume the opposite because she’s the captain of her team. A title like that is important and it means a lot.

A captain is someone who can guide others with responsibility and authority. They are filled with empathy, understanding and fairness while also valuing others opinions and treating everyone with respect.

Of course from your perspective, her character didn’t suit any of those things.

Her body stole the gap between you and Jungkook and ignored your existence as if you were invisible. As she turns around in front of you, her dark brown wavy hair dances in the air, nearly flying in your face.

You took a step back without a word. You knew it was most likely on purpose.

“Hey kook,” she says, pleased to see him. She wasted no time wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him in for a warm hug. Jungkook, who reciprocates the gesture, returns the same affection that was given.

“Thank you for coming.” The hug lasts a minute until they finally separate, but her hand remains on his arm. “I do appreciate it. It means a lot to me.”

“Of course.” He seemed happy to see Gaia. His eyes lit up like a puppy once he spoke to her. “You know I’d show up for you.”

After Gaia shows her appreciation by sending Jungkook a pretty smile with batting lashes, she turns around to finally acknowledge your existence.

The eyes of both of you immediately met with a fiercely piercing gaze, refueling the same flames from the last time you locked eyes. After all, this was the first time you were face to face since last year at the tournament.

As the tension lingers on in the air, Gaia breaks it with her words. "Well, hello Y/N.” You couldn't help but notice the judgmental look on her face as her eyes scanned your figure from head to toe.

It reminded you of the same look you shared moments before the buzzer went off. Both teams were divided on each side of the net and you and Gaia were intensely staring into each other's souls, ready to rip each other apart.

“Gaia,” you replied, voice steady and even.

Jungkook’s eyes bounced from you to Gaia back and forth sensing the unspoken tension between you both. He felt it getting heated…

“I see you finally decided to step out of the shadows after a few years…” The grin on her face didn’t even reach her eyes.

Who does she think she is calling that cheap shot a win? Then dares to make it seem like you’ve been embarrassed to show your face?

But it’s fine, she wasn’t the only one with words to exchange. You've been waiting a long time to get this opportunity.

“I see that you're brave enough to face me alone now,” you hissed coldly, “I remember the last time we faced each other, you had to hide behind security.”

You both were referring to the night of the tournament. It was a clashes between your schools and things started to get rowdy, so security had to personally escort your team to the busses.

Gaia’s team came out right after you and let’s just say you weren’t too happy seeing them hold the trophy… and you went face to face with her and gave her a piece for your mind.

“You were angry that night and it caused you to act violently, I get it.” She stepped forward, getting into your personal space. “The truth hurts.”

“The truth?” You retorted sharply, "Everything in your entire life, including that trophy, has been handed to you on a silver platter."

It's not hard to believe that they flashed a stack of cash to keep their school’s reputation, The Most Undefeated School. And that’s exactly what they did, leaving your team no choice but to accept it and move on.

Gaia's eyes narrowed at your words, and she nodded in denial. "I worked hard for that trophy, Y/N. Don't try to diminish my accomplishments just because you can't handle losing."

Jungkook sighed, seeing that things were getting out of hand, and tried to step between you and Gaia. "Come on, guys, let's not ruin the night. Save the drama for later.”

All he wanted to do was steer the conversation towards a more positive direction, but the tension in the air was palpable and neither of you paid attention to Jungkook.

“The trophy is with me, in my possession, in my school's showcase and it’s never leaving.”

“Never leaving?” You question her confidence. “That’s cute.”

“No.” Her lips form into an O as she empathizes her words slowly. “So stop making excuses and accept the fact that your team got kicked to the bottom where they belong.”

You entered defense mode the second you inched closer, perfectly angling your face with hers. “Keep my team out of your mouth or you will get kicked to the bottom, Gaia.”

Her emerald green eyes bore into yours as her lips curled into a smirk with a slow deliberate movement. “Still the same feisty Y/N I see. You haven’t changed a bit…”

Snapping back you say, “And I don’t plan on it either.”

Jungkook steps forward, in an attempt to divide you apart, until Gaia prevents him from getting any closer with her hand.

Surprisingly, he obeys Gaia without hesitation and stands in place with zipped lips. “Y/N is still in her feelings about her loss. Her empty threats won’t change the fact that I have what she wants.”

“You won’t for long and that’s a promise, Gaia.” You make it known before Jungkook briefly interjects again. This time he takes action and grabs Gaia by the wrist.

“Alright, that’s enough.” He takes action, separating you both by pulling her away. “Now isn’t the time for this.”

You glance at him, realizing that he was more than right. There’s a time and place for this and it isn’t here and you weren’t going to let Gaia and her pointless taunts ruin your night.

As you close your eyes for a split second, you exhale putting yourself back at ease. You reminded yourself that you are here to support and represent your team not to have a catfight with Gaia.

Not now.

“I have better things to do, you know, like find a table for my team to sit.” After she shoots daggers at you, she looks over at Jungkook and smiles. “And I’ll see you around, okay?”

•the switch up is insane

He gives a subtle nod and she pats his shoulder before spinning on her heels leaving you and Jungkook alone.

Your arms remained over your chest as you waited for the sound of her footsteps to fade away.

When she’s gone, your hand instinctively reaches for his tie, gripping it tightly. You drag him along with a swift motion and lead him away from the loud crowd.

He attempted to speak while being dragged and his words tumbled out like a rush. Your grip tightens, intertwining with the silk and you yank his tie even harder.

“Shut up.” You were too determined to let Jungkook slip from your grip. He had his chance to speak and he has said enough. Now it’s your turn to talk and just like you wanted, he didn’t say another word.

The forcefulness of your action silences him and from then, he remained quiet until you found a secluded corner and led him there.

“Why?” Is all you ask before you release his tie, sending him stumbling backward from your vicious hold.

He doesn’t respond to your question, he just blinks and stares at you with bewildered eyes as if you lost your mind.

“Jungkook? Hello?” You waved your hand in his face, demanding an answer. “Why the hell are you here? Here with her?”

He scoffs, readjusting his tie that was ruined by the hands of you. “Why does it matter?” Jungkook’s tone grew defensive.

You roll your eyes in disbelief, “You are here with Gaia Watson, the same person who tarnished our school name all on her Instagram. You do know that, don’t you?”

“Who gives a shit? It happened a year ago. Get over it.” Jungkook stuffed his hands in his pocket, then looked in another direction to avoid your face.

You had to remind him. “She’s our rival, Jungkook. You should be ashamed showing up with her.”

"Gaia is your rival, not mine," he clarified, expressing the irritation in his tone. "Now can you not make this a big deal?”

Big deal? It’s a bit too late for that. You already formed your theories about their relationship and couldn’t help but ask.

“I see you clearly don’t care about our school’s reputation.” You use air quotes. “She isn’t your rival. She’s your girlfriend, my apologies.”

“Woah woah…” He instantly puts his hands up in denial. “Let’s not jump to conclusions. Gaia and I are just good friends. We’ve been good friends for years.”

Your strained chuckle doesn’t reach your eyes. “Good friends.” Jungkook peeped your sarcasm.

Something about that rubbed you the wrong way, but you can't quite put your finger on it.

Quickly noticing your expression, Jungkook makes a muffled noise. It sounded like he was trying to hide a chuckle.

Your eyes shift to his, which were already on you. "Jealousy isn’t a good look on you beasty…”

The expressionless reaction you gave him was so surreal. You couldn't help but feel a little surprised by his foolish question. You weren’t sure what he was trying to imply, but you don't want to give him the pleasure of any reaction.

“What?" You humed confused and his lips began to morph into an amusing grin.

You tried to play it off as if you didn’t hear him, but in reality his words were crystal clear.

Jungkook gave you a knowing look. “Don’t get your balls in a twist. I’m not jealous, I could care less.”

“You could care less, yet you just tried to give me a lecture about it.” He teasingly shoots up his brows, “I’m not quite understanding.”

Jealousy was out of the frame. It was about how careless Jungkook is when it comes to representing our school.

“Yeah you don't quite understand a lot of things, Jungkook.” You roll your eyes. “I’m not jealous, it’s about our school’s image.”

Smirking, Jungkook shakes his head. “School’s image, huh? Whatever you say, beasty.” It was obvious that he could see right through your act. “It’s your job to care about our schools image, not mine”

•There he goes with that stupid nickname again!

“Y/N?” The sound of a clueless man caused both of you to turn your heads in her direction.

It was your best friend, Yoongi.

You smile. “Oh hey Yoongs.”

“Hi Y/N and Jungkook,” he greets you both with a surprised look.

“Hello, Yoongi.” Jungkook nods and returns the greeting.

An awkward moment of silence passes…

He bit the inside of his cheek, unsure if he invaded for a moment. “Did I interrupt something?” Yoongi asks suspiciously, pointing between the both of you with his finger.

“No, you didn’t,” you answer immediately, moving away from Jungkook. “But I’ve been looking for you.” Taking Yoongi’s arm, you led him away from Jungkook into the crowd of people.

He gives you a confused expression, but doesn’t say anything. He glances in the direction Jungkook was in, an eyebrow raised. “What was that all about?”

You sigh and shake your head. “Nothing.” You continue to lead him through the crowd.

Yoongi’s expression remains mostly blank as he listens to your reply. After a moment of silence he finally speaks again, “He was giving you a hard time wasn’t he? You want me to beat his ass?”

“No, it’s okay. I can handle my own.” You let out a small chuckle and Yoongi does along with you. “If anything I was giving him a hard time.”

His expression doesn’t change from his usual stoic self as he asks his question. “And why were you giving him a hard time?”

“Jungkook came here with Gaia,” you inform him, not pleased with the interaction between her earlier.”

“What?” Yoongi’s eyes widen as he hears you, clearly appalled by the information. “Do they have something going on?” He asks, curiosity getting the best of him.

“I don’t know, but he did mention that they were good friends.” You sigh as you think about it. Was it possible that he and Gaia were really that close?

He raises his eyebrows. “Mmm you don’t seem to be happy about them being friends.”

“Really yoongi?” You give him an icy glare.

It took him a minute to notice the stare you were giving him, he glanced at you confused. “Did I say something wrong..?”

•completely all the way fucking wrong

“I am not jealous of Gaia-”

He talks over you mid-sentence, “You’re prettier than her anyway. You have nothing to worry about as far as competition.”

“Again, I am not jealous. Can we just move on and enjoy the event? I don’t want to talk about Gaia any longer.”

Yoongi gives you a look, then rolls his eyes at your denial. He knew that you were stubborn and there was no point of pushing the conversation.

“Alright, no more,” he says with a chuckle.

“Good.” You grab your best friend's hand, then sigh. “The speeches and announcements are about to start soon, so let’s take our seats.”

He smiles, allowing you to take his hand and lead him to your seats with your team. Both of you sat down and waited for the lady with the microphone to get everyone to settle down.

Things were getting serious and your coach was still nowhere to be found. She has never been late before, so this was completely out of character.

“Maybe she got caught in Traffic,” he suggested, trying to reassure you and make you feel better. Yoongi saw the worry in your eyes as you looked around for your coach.

You smile at your best friend when he pats your shoulder, giving you a comforting smile.

Mindy, seated on your other side, offered you a gentle smile before reaching over to grasp your hand, seeking comfort.

“You got this, don’t worry,” you mouthed, giving her reassuring nod. In return she smiles taking in your words.

It was officially time to announce the players that were scouted this season along with the captain speeches.

Everybody was seated at a table with their teams and additional guests. The lady on the microphone announced that it was time to reveal who was getting recruited this season.

The lady had certificates in her hand along with an envelope. When she began to open it, the crowd fell silent as intensity built.

She raises the envelope, her voice filled with anticipation, and announces, "The very first person who will be joining Team Legacy this season, bringing their exceptional skills and dedication to our team, is..."

The entire venue is filled with a tense silence, as all the teams eagerly await for the announcement. The atmosphere is thick with curiosity, as everyone is curious about the identity of the first new addition to Team Legacy this season.

With heads respectfully bowed, the girls sat around the table with their eyes closed and hands clasped tightly together. Everyone was fully aware of the importance of the moment for Mindy. Team Legacy was her dream team.

“….Mindy Bowie!” She finally announced, reading the name aloud from the envelope.

The entire venue explodes with applause as Mindy stands up, a stunned look on her face.

Everyone including you cheer her on, beaming with joy as she starts to make her way towards the stage. She seemed more uplifted than she was earlier when she spoke to you at the bar.

Mindy had that look of confidence she always carried in her face, the confidence you always admired. You clap along with the crowd with a proud smile on your face, knowing that she would absolutely kill it.

Sneaking a glance around the venue, you saw Jungkook sitting with Gaia and her team and he was surprisingly clapping for Mindy too.

His eyes landed on you as briefly made eye contact with each other, then you turned your focus back to the stage.

The lady on the microphone and the coach of team legacy greeted Mindy with a warm hug and a proud smile.

She takes the microphone and takes a deep breath, trying to calm down her overwhelmed excitement. “I can’t put into words how I feel right now, but I will say thank you. Thank you to my amazing team, my coach and my parents for believing in me and fighting for my dreams with me.” Mindy chuckles, still in shock of her dream coming true.

“And as for being recruited, I'm so honored to be joining Team Legacy, and I promise to bring my skills and dedication to the team. I can't wait to start this journey and contribute to the team's success.”

She smiles and holds up her certificate and the venue buzzes with excitement as they clap for her even louder this time.

Once Mindy and other girls finish with their speeches, the audience erupts into applause, cheers, whistles, celebrating the girls once again.

Yoongi can’t hide how much he admires Mindy too. ”I think she’s better at speeches than you. You should learn a thing or two from her.”

You instantly shook your head at the thought of you up there in front of all these people. “Oh me and my social anxiety could never…”

Many girls from other teams were successfully recruited into the teams they had hoped for. The room was filled with joyous celebrations as players hugged their loved ones, their faces beaming with excitement. Friends and family members cheered and took pictures, capturing the memorable moment.

🏐🥊

All the recruitments and speeches were finally done. Mindy was surrounded by the girls hugging her and clapping her on the back.

You finally got the chance to wrap her in a warm heartfelt hug and graduate her personally. “Congratulations. I am extremely proud of you, girl,” you whispered, your voice full of admiration.

Mindy pulls back slightly, her eyes glossy from the tears of joy forming. “Thank you… that really means a lot to me.”

“I’m impressed,” your coach says, amazed.

The unexpected sound of her voice leaves you all momentarily stunned. You turn around to see her standing there, a proud smile lighting up her face.

She chuckles, “Team Legacy? Not bad, senior.”

In an instant, everyone rushes over to her, and hugs her pleased to see her. She returns the love and affection, hugging everyone as much as she can.

“When did you get here?” Mindy asks, still processing the coach's appearance.

“I’ve been here since they started calling people on stage.” She squeezes her arms around all the girls. “I’m sorry for being late, but I couldn’t miss this important moment.”

The group hug separates and all eyes are on your coach as she continues to speak, “I would never ever miss something like this no matter what, okay? And I got stuck in damn traffic and my phone was dead-” Coach takes a moment to breathe and relieve the stressful process it was to get to the venue.

“Again, I apologize for my tardiness. But I am here now and ready to celebrate and congratulate our newest member of team legacy.” Coach nudges Mindy’s arm with a wink on her face.

“Congratulations babe.” She hugs Mindy personally, showing her love. “I am so proud of the player and woman you are becoming. You deserve it.” They both pull away.

“Thanks coach. I couldn’t have done it without you.” Mindy smiles gratefully.

Coach pats Mindy on the back, "No need to thank me, you put in all the hard work. I'm just here to guide you.

Mindy nods, "I know, but your support and encouragement made a huge difference. I'll always be grateful for that."

Coach smiles, "You're welcome. Now, you girls can carry on celebrating. I am going to celebrate with a drink from the bar.”

She walks a few steps ahead of you, her confident stride and broad smile evidence of her pride and happiness. "Mindy and Y/N come keep me company.” she calls out, gesturing for you to follow her.

With no hesitation, you and Mindy follow her towards the dimly lit luxurious bar. The three of you slide onto the plush read leather stools. Your senses are immediately awakened by the mingling scents of alcohol and polished wood.

She orders sparking water for you both and whiskey for her. Shortly, the drinks are placed in front of you and you grab yours.

“Cheers to a fantastic season!” She takes a sip, savoring the moment. Then, she turns her attention to you and Mindy, her expression growing more thoughtful.

“How do you girls feel about this season?” She asks, her eyes curious.

You speak up, “I think the season is going very well and it will continue to do so.”

Mindy nods in agreement, “I’m with Y/N on that. This season has been our very best because we’ve pushed ourselves harder than ever before.” She glances at you and smiles, “I know that you girls will be fine without me.”

Coach sighs, “And that’s exactly what I wanted to talk about with both of you.” She looks at you and Mindy, her expression serious. “Mindy, you just got recruited and that means you’ll be leaving soon. How do you feel about that?”

That was a pretty good question. Mindy was officially recruited to Team Legacy now and like your coach said that means she will be leaving and you'll no longer have her as a captain anymore.

Mindy shifts in her seat, her fingers tracing the edge of her glass. “I’m excited, of course. It’s a great opportunity. But… I’m also worried about leaving the team. It’s been my family for so long.”

Coach nods, her gaze steady. “I understand. It’s a big change for everyone. You’ve been an excellent captain, Mindy. Now it’s time for the next step.”

Mind tries to smile, though there’s a hint of sadness in her eyes. “Thanks… and I know it’s time for the next step. I’m just trying to prepare myself for it.”

Then she turns to you. “And you? How do you feel about Mindy leaving? Think you can step up?”

The question catches you off guard, your eyes widening in surprise. “Me? Step up as captain?” Mindy chuckles when you point to yourself.

You as captain? You wondered how things would be if you had that title. That would be a change, especially for you.

Coach nods and watches you intently as you blink, feeling the weight of her question. “Of course I think I can step up. I’m just shocked that you chose me out of all the girls.”

Her expression softens, a smile spreading across her face. “You’ve shown great leadership this season. I have no doubt you’ll make an excellent captain.”

“Also you had the second most votes for captain,” Mindy adds in before taking a sip of her drink.

You glance at Mindy, who grins at you over the rim of her cup. “Second most votes, huh?” you mutter, trying to wrap your head around the idea. “That’s not bad…”

“Not bad at all,” Coach replies with a wink. “Looks like the team believes in you.”

“Yeah,” you say, a small smile forming on your lips. “I guess they do.”

As you sip your sparkling water, your eyes wander to the back of the venue where Jungkook and Gaia are standing close together, deep in conversation. They’re laughing and leaning in, clearly enjoying each other’s company. The way Gaia lightly touches Jungkook’s arm and the way he smiles at her makes your stomach slightly twist.

You couldn’t tell if it was your hatred for both of them or something else…

You try to focus on the conversation at hand, but your attention keeps drifting back to them. You watch as they walk out, side by side, disappearing through the glass double door.

Jungkook had told you they were good friends, but seeing them together makes you wonder if there’s more to it.

To be Continued....

@coralmusicblaze @hobismoon @tumeperds @binniethegiant @xumyboo @babycandy111 @btspurplesky @bangtans-momma @snkyuv @busanbby-jjk @sublimewitchdreamer @seulrene @seokjingrande @junecat18 @babybella337

[morbidpandabear-blog]

Beneath The Silence

Part 2 of ?

Date posted - March 9th 2025

Hybrid au!

Chital deer hybrid! Jungkook x Reader x Golden Tiger hybrid! Taehyung x Mystery Member

Eventual OT7 x Reader

Warning — Abuse, Trafficking ring, Trauma, Aggression, Malnutrition, Hurt Taehyung, Hurt mystery member, Illegal activities.

Chapter 2 — A Bump In The Night

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Y/N had seen her fair share of challenging cases in her time as a hybrid veterinarian and doctor. It was a field few truly understood, especially considering how society treated hybrids. But her empathy, knowledge, and unwavering dedication had allowed her to carve out a niche where she could make a difference, however small. Today, as she walked down the sterile hallway toward the room where she’d left her two most recent patients, she was ready to face what came next.

Taehyung, the tiger hybrid, had been through a lot in the last few days. His body was weak and malnourished, but his mind… his mind had been more of a mystery. Jungkook, the deer hybrid, had explained some of their journey, but Y/N had her doubts. Both hybrids had been through unimaginable pain, yet their bond seemed unbreakable, a silent strength that kept them tethered together despite their shared trauma.

———————————————————————————

Y/N took a breath and opened the door, entering the room. She could feel the tension in the air immediately. The room, dimly lit and quiet save for the soft sounds of medical machinery, was charged with an underlying sense of alertness.

Then, a growl.

It wasn’t just any growl. It was deep, low, and filled with raw instinct. Y/N froze, recognizing the sound instantly. Taehyung. His body was still partially covered in bandages from the damage he'd endured, but his eyes, now awake, were wild with fear and distrust. His head was low, his pupils dilated, and his ears were pinned back, a clear sign that he was unsettled.

"Easy, Taehyung," came Jungkook's calming voice from his side of the room, his tone low and measured, as if trying to ease the tension without provoking the tiger hybrid further. "You’re safe. We’re safe, alright? It’s just Y/N, shes the lady that helped us, she’s not a threat.”

Y/N’s heart tightened. She immediately made eye contact with Jungkook, her silent understanding clear. He nodded in return, a soft reassurance for her to continue. She raised her hands slowly in front of her, palms open, non-threatening.

"I’m not here to hurt you," she said, her voice steady and calm. "I just want to talk."

The growl softened, but Taehyung's eyes stayed sharp, his posture tense. Y/N stepped forward carefully, her movements deliberate and non-threatening, her voice carrying the weight of both authority and compassion.

"You’re safe here. No one’s going to hurt you. I promise."

It took a few moments, but eventually, Taehyung’s growls subsided, though his wariness remained. Jungkook, who was sitting in the bed beside Taehyung’s, reached out a hand in a gesture of reassurance, but the tiger hybrid only briefly glanced at him before returning his focus to Y/N.

Y/N sat down beside them, careful not to make any sudden movements. She could feel the weight of their gazes on her as she pulled up a chair and settled in, ready to discuss the situation. The air was heavy with unspoken questions, and Y/N knew it was time to address their future.

“You both need more time to heal. Your bodies are too weak for you to leave. I can’t allow either of you to go just yet,” she began, her voice soft but firm. "You’re both malnourished and under observation for now. I need to make sure your bodies are strong enough.”

Jungkook nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. Taehyung remained silent, his gaze flickering between Y/N and Jungkook, as though he were deciding whether or not to trust her. "I know this is difficult," Y/N continued, "but I need to ask you a few things. There are questions that I’ve been trying to answer for both your sakes. For all of us."

She looked directly at Taehyung. "Did you hear anything? Anything at all about the group that did this to you? Any name, any place?"

Taehyung’s expression faltered for a moment, as though the question brought him back to a painful memory. After a long pause, he finally spoke, his voice rough and strained.

"I think I heard someone say the name once, something like 'The Order.' That’s all I know."

Y/N’s blood ran cold at the mention of the name. The warmth drained from her face, and her breath hitched in her throat. The Order. Her heart pounded in her chest as memories from her early days as a hybrid doctor flashed in her mind. She knew them. She had worked on several cases where victims of The Order had barely made it out alive. She had been called in as an expert witness in the rare cases that had gone to court. But even then, those who survived were never truly free of the scars left by that group.

The Order was a brutal trafficking syndicate that would sell hybrids to anyone willing to pay what they deemed them worth. They were merciless, showing no compassion, disposing of those they deemed imperfect, or worse, “defective.” Y/N had once treated a small koala hybrid who had escaped them, but the trauma they endured was not something she’d ever forget.

Her body tensed, and she stood up abruptly, her hands trembling slightly as she tried to steady herself. Jungkook and Taehyung looked up, startled by the sudden movement. Y/N quickly composed herself, forcing a deep breath to steady her racing pulse.

"I’m going to stop them," she muttered, more to herself than anyone else. "I don’t care what it takes. I’ll put an end to what they’re doing."

Both boys exchanged a glance, their eyes filled with understanding, but unsure that it can be done. Jungkook spoke up softly, "Thank you Y/N. We know you’ll do everything you can."

Before Y/N could respond, a knock on the door interrupted the moment. A nurse stepped in, carrying two trays of food. Y/N offered them a soft smile.

"Alright, let’s get you both something to eat. I’ll leave you to rest," she said, her voice returning to its usual calm and professional tone. "I’ll be back to check on you later." She gave both of them a quick wave and stepped out of the room, leaving them to their meal.

Later that evening, as Y/N wrapped up her shift and passed off the care of the clinic to the night nurse, she made her way home, regretting walking to work this morning. The chill in the air nipped at her skin, and she regretted not bringing a jacket, but the icy wind felt like a distant thought compared to the storm brewing inside her. The mention of The Order weighed heavily on her mind. She knew what she had to do.

———————————————————————————

Halfway to her home, the unthinkable happened. Someone crashed into her, knocking her to the ground. She froze, but when the person didn’t move, panic flared in her chest.

Moments before the fall the hybrid had been in the opposing alleyway hunkered down behind a dumpster shivering and sore. But as he smelled the faint scent of two of his younger pack mates from down the dark alley way near the street, he jumped to his feet. The man took off at a sprint using all of the energy left in his body to make it to the source of the smell. By the time he came close he realized it was a woman, trying to stop but realizing he was too close for that, he barreled in with force, knocking them both to the ground. With a groan they fell and as the fox hybrid realized that the woman, who ever she is, might be a part of the trafficking ring he accepted his fate, deciding a life with his pack and with the The Order would be better than a life of living on the streets without them.

With a low groan Y/N sat up quickly, with just a glance she realized that the person who had knocked her down was a man. Disheveled and covered in dirt, he sat just in front of her. His eyes were unfocused, and as Y/N took in the details, she realized the man was a hybrid. His sand-colored ears were upright, and after a quick inspection of his tail, her suspicions were confirmed—the man was a Fennec Fox hybrid.

Her eyes widened as she took in his condition. His clothes were torn, his skin was battered with cuts, and his body looked frail, like he had been running for far too long. His breath was shallow, and he swayed unsteadily as his hand shot out to grasp her arm with a low unsteady growl he tried to focus on her. He spoke his voice barely audible as he whispered one word.

"Taehyung."

Before Y/N could respond, the hybrid fainted, collapsing into her arms. She didn’t hesitate. Her training kicked in. She checked his pulse—it was erratic, a sign of exhaustion or worse. Quickly, Y/N scooped him up, looping his arm over her shoulder as she pulled out her phone.

"Minji, I need a pickup now. We’ve got another one. His condition is unstable." Minji understood and immediately sent a pair of male nurses off to help.

Deciding it was better not to wait for assistance in the middle of the street, she began to walk at a slow agonizing pace towards the clinic struggling to keep the hybrid upright.

But the weight of the fennec fox hybrid leaning against her shoulder didn’t feel all that heavy, not when compared to the weight of the knowledge she carried in her heart. The Order was real, and now, more than ever, Y/N knew that one way or another she had to find the others, and get them to safe place before they’re found by the despicable organization.

———————————————————————————

Authors note — Hello! I hope you enjoyed it, it was a little rushed seeing as I’ve been busy. But i had really wanted to write another part as soon as possible! 💜