#HIS SMILE MAKES ME 💗💓💞💝💖💘💕💗💓💝

[xoxochb]

— late night reading 💌 ⋆˚࿔

“sweet girl.”

you snap out of your trance, blinking your eyes as you come back to reality. “hmm?”

“are you okay?”

percy wears a concerned frown. you can’t help but match his expression knowing that you were the leading cause to his distress.

“I’m okay.”

“are you sure?” he reaches out, giving you a peck on the cheek. when he pulls back, he takes both of your hands into his own, rubbing your knuckles soothingly.

you kiss one of percy’s cheeks. “I’m sure. I just stayed up late last night. you were out by nine but I couldn’t sleep.”

“you could’ve woken me up.”

you shake your head, toying with his fingers. “you looked peaceful.”

“what time did you fall asleep?”

“two…”

“and you woke up at ten.”

you nod, tiredly resting your head on percy’s chest. your entire body follows, curling into him subconsciously.

“you need to get some sleep, sweet girl.”

“I know. but I had to finish my book.”

percy untwines his hand from yours, using one to card his fingers through your hair. the action alone nearly sends you into a deep slumber. though you sigh contently at the comforting notion.

“you’re trying to make me fall asleep,” you mumble, voice muffled from the skin of his chest.

“insightful. and sexy. nice.”

“insightful?”

“yeah.” you hear percy’s smile through his voice. “you told me that word once.”

you tell him a lot of words. you often have him read ones from higher vocabulary to expand his knowledge of words. a few months ago you had began a thing where every sunday you would sit with percy and repeat words over to help his dyslexia after he’d complained about not being able to read your books with you.

you’re surprised he remembers half of them though. usually he ends up zoning out and staring at your lips halfway through your lesson. then he asks if your into the whole teacher-and-student trope.

“I didn’t think you’d remember it.”

“I remember everything you say to me.”

you grin in disbelief. “your lying.”

“promise I’m not. yesterday while you were eating lunch you said you wanted to ‘eat the ass of the guy who made this sandwich.’ direct quote.”

“‘was a really good sandwich.” your eyes flutter closed as the exhaustion begins hitting you.

“I know. you told me seven times.”

“hmm. interesting…”

percy presses a kiss against your forehead, sliding your hair out of your face and behind your ear. “sleep, sweet girl.”

you exhale slowly. soon enough you comply.

— this is literally nothing but I thought it was cute so here’s to all my fellow book girls who also stay up extraordinarily late to finish their books 😋😋💕💖💘💝💗💓💞

[sixeyesonathiel]

omg hello I read ur free throws and figure drawings one shot and im still so in love w how u characterized him can we please get a pt 2 or sum headcannons ate athy 🥰🥰💗💓💝💘💞💕💖

AWWW THANK YOU SO MUCH ANON. yall have no idea how heartwarming it is to be complimented over my characterization of satoru <3 part 2 is highly possible someday!! but here's some FTAFD satoru headcanons for the mean time 😼🩷

highly recommend to read free throws & figure drawings first before reading this for the best experience <3

satoru isn’t just your multi-purpose muse & boyfriend. he is also your personal cheerleader now.

every time you finish a sketch, he’s leaning over your shoulder, gasping dramatically like it’s a masterpiece worthy of a museum. “holy shit, you’re a genius,” he says, even if it’s just a doodle of a coffee cup. he’s genuinely obsessed with your talent and brags about it to everyone.

he’s always got an arm around you—draped over your shoulders, slung around your waist, or just holding your hand like it’s second nature. you’ll be walking to class, and he’s tugging you closer, grinning like an idiot because he can’t stand being more than two inches apart.

you’re “sweetheart,” “lovey,” “honeybunch,” “starlight”—he cycles through them like he’s testing which one makes you blush the most. sometimes he throws in absurd ones like “my divine goddess of acrylics” just to see you roll your eyes.

your hoodie that doesn’t even fit him? his now. your pencil? he’s twirling it between his fingers during practice breaks, claiming it’s his “lucky charm.” he’ll give it back eventually, but only after he’s doodled a tiny heart on it.

he shows up with snacks, a new paintbrush, or some random trinket he “had to get” because it reminded him of you. “saw this and thought of your pretty face,” he says, tossing you a keychain shaped like a basketball with zero explanation.

he’s still got a knack for public declarations too. he’s yelling “that’s my girlfriend!” across the courtyard whenever you’re within earshot. you’re mortified, but he thrives on it, grinning like he’s won the lottery every time someone glances your way.late-night talks

he texts you at 2 a.m. with dumb questions like “do you think i’d look good with a paintbrush tattoo?” but it always turns into him rambling about how lucky he is to have you. you fall asleep to his voice humming through your phone.

he pokes your cheek when you’re focused, smirking as he says, “you’re too cute when you’re serious.” he knows it annoys you, but the way he leans in to kiss your pout afterward makes it impossible to stay mad.

he’s always showing off for you. at every game, he’s winking at you from the court, sinking shots and pointing at you like it’s all for your approval. “that one’s for you, babe,” he mouths, even if you’re trying to hide in the bleachers.

when he thinks you’re not looking, he watches you paint with this dopey, lovesick smile. his usual cockiness melts away, and he’s just a guy stupidly, hopelessly in love with you.

he always carries your stuff. your art supplies? he’s got them slung over his shoulder without asking, complaining loudly—“these weigh a ton, you owe me”—but he never lets you carry them yourself.

he kisses you everywhere. forehead, cheeks, nose, lips—he’s a menace about it. he’ll sneak one when you’re mid-sentence, laughing when you sputter, “satoru, i’m talking!” “yeah, but i needed that,” he shrugs.

he always checks on you. he texts you mid-day, “you eat yet?” and shows up with food if you say no. he’s an idiot about it, but it’s his way of showing he’s always thinking of you.

he drags you to the arcade because “you need a break,” then spends all his quarters trying to win you a stuffed animal. you end up with five because he refuses to lose.

he loves sleeping on you. he flops onto your lap after practice, whining about how tired he is, but really he just wants to feel your fingers in his hair. you complain, but he’s already snoring softly, clinging like a koala.

he is always proud of your achievements. when your art gets picked for an exhibition, he’s louder than you about it, dragging his teammates to see it and pointing at your work like, “that’s hers, i’m dating a legend.”

one night, he’s sprawled across your bed, half-asleep, muttering nonsense about basketball stats, when he suddenly rolls over, props himself up on his elbow, and looks at you like you hung the moon. “hey,” he whispers, voice all gravelly and warm, “if i ever stop being this stupid over you, just… kick me, okay?”

a/n : dunno if im doing this headcanon thing right it's my first time doing it XD

[daisyblog]

Pink Hearts

Music To My Heart Masterlist Summary: Louis and YN meet backstage when he takes his sisters to a Pink Hearts concert.

Louis had listened to his sister’s talk about the band ‘Pink Hearts’ for what felt like years. So when he surprised them all with tickets for their concert in London for Christmas, they were ecstatic.

They were all sitting in the back of the car that was taking them to the arena. His sisters were chatting between each other about what songs they wanted them to sing, who their favour band member was.

“I love YN…she’s so funny and gorgeous”. Daisy spoke up from her seat next to Louis. “Lou, isn’t she pretty?”.

Daisy held her phone up to Louis for him to look at the photo YN had posted on her instagram. He was met with a photo of YN and as much as he wanted to say that he wasn’t really bothered about the band, he was surprised when he felt an instant attraction towards the woman.

yn_pinkhearts

liked by lottietomlinson, thephoebetomlinson and 784,667 others

yn_pinkhearts Can’t wait to see you tonight London 🪩 🎤 💕 view all 5,783 comments

paula_mamahearts Can’t wait to see you my girl❤️ ⌞yn_pinkhearts love you mum💞

molliewarren Looking good bestie😍😍 ⌞yn_pinkhearts Awh stop it, you’re making me blush🙊

ynfan9 I’m coming to the show tonight!! Can’t wait😆

pinkheartsfan2 💗💓💞💕💖💘💝

ynfan4 LOVE YOU YN!!💜

pinkheartsupdates Please notice our page😊💕

“Uh…yeah she’s alright!”. Louis tried to down play his attraction to the singer. Knowing his sisters would tease him.

Before Daisy could respond, the driver of the car had gestured that they had arrived. Louis walked with his sisters, as he followed the instructions of heading through the back entrance of the arena to avoid the possibility of bumping to any of his own fans.

A member of the crew had met them at the entrance and given each of them a lanyard that gave them access to their private box, backstage and around the arena itself.

Lottie, Daisy and Phoebe all took photos of each other standing in front of a large ‘Pink Hearts’ tour poster that was hung on the corridor wall. Louis had even been persuaded to be in the odd photo.

“Do you want me to take a photo of you all?”. A voice appeared next to them. YN gave them all a smile as walked past noticing their small group.

“Oh waw! You’re YN!”. Phoebe was quick to state as she looked at the singer that was now laughing at her comment.

Louis and YN locked eyes as she laughed at the younger girl. YN couldn’t help but notice his bright blue eyes and how effortlessly gorgeous the man was. Louis on the other hand, managed to discreetly take a glance at the singer. He noticed how her smile was large and showed off her white pristine teeth, how her curly hair waved past her shoulders and before his eyes could travel else where, her voice broke him from his thoughts.

“I am…but you’re stood with Louis Tomlinson so I can’t be that exciting!”. He appreciated YN’s whit, he enjoyed when people could joke around and didn’t take things too seriously.

“Well he’s just our brother!”. Daisy smirked as Louis gave her a look of amusement.

“That’s right girls…just talk about me like I’m not here!”. Louis shook his head, his hands resting on his hips as he waited for his sisters to finish fan girling.

YN couldn’t pretend she didn’t know who Louis was, she hadn’t been living under a rock. She wasn’t a directioner growing up but she appreciated their success as a band and her younger cousins loved One Direction.

“Give me two minutes!”. YN disappeared into one of the rooms that was on the corridor. Whilst she was gone, Lottie and the twins let out their excitement of meeting one the girls from their favourite bands.

As quickly as she disappeared, YN returned carrying a few tote bags that held the bands tour logo on the front of them. But instead of appearing by herself, three other girls followed behind her.

“These are for you…there’s merch and other bits in there…I’ve given your a few extra in case you wanted to share them with your friends or whatever”. YN handed each of the girls a bag, before turning to Louis. “Here…we wouldn’t want to leave you out…make sure to make use of the t-shirt!”.

Louis could feel the blush creep up onto his cheeks, something that didn’t happen often to him. “Thanks…I’ve been looking for a new everyday T-shirt and this one will be perfect!”.

But as quickly as they began small talk, YN along with the three other members of the band got pulled away by Louis’ sister for some pictures to remember the moment of meeting their favourite group.

Louis stood back and watched as his sisters chatted away to the group, the four girls taking their time to talk to each of them. Smiling and laughing as they did so. It was times likes this that Louis got to appreciate how young his sisters were.

“Girls! Ten minutes until showtime!”. A deep voice came from further down the corridor, the tall broad man disappearing straight after.

“We’re sorry guys…but we need to warm up before the show…it was so lovely meeting you all!”. Hannah gave them a sad smile knowing how much they were all enjoying their conversations. “We hope you enjoy the show!”.

The Tomlinson girls gave each of the band a quick cuddle before They moved on to give Louis one and thanking him for attending their show. But noticing the way Louis arm lingered longer around YN’s shoulders and the subtle smile that shined large on both their cheeks, Lottie quickly snapped a photo of them.

---

Louis, along with his three sisters, stood in their designated VIP box. He knew they’d been spotted by a few of the fans that surrounded them but it was something he was used to by now.

The lights gently dimmed and a soundtrack began to play, filling every inch of the arena. Once the bands introduction video had finished, earning a loud roar from the crowd, Louis eyes waited on the stage for the girls to appear.

Within seconds, the four girls along with their all the dancers rises to the large stage and began to sing their song Woman Like Me.

Louis eyed were attracted to YN. He could see she was wearing a long sleeved black bodysuit that hugged her figure. The long black boots sat up high on her legs and stopped on her thigh. Louis brought the drink up to his lips to distract himself from getting lost in his new thoughts.

The four women dance their way around the large stage and YN’s voice hits their ears as she sings, "Woman like me, like a woman like me.".

---

“Gooooood evening London! We are Hannah, Cara, Lola and YN…and we’re Pink Hearts!”. YN says from her spot at the edge of the stage and in response the crowd roars.

The four women take this as an opportunity to wave to the large audience in front of them. Cara lifts the mic up to her mouth. “It’s so nice to meet you all and we can’t wait to spend our evening with you!”.

Louis looks to his side and notices his sisters waving largely back at the women on the stage, trying to get their attention for the second time that evening.

His eyes met with the stage again and he’d noticed the sound of another song beginning and the four women now in a different position.

“Ladies…all across the world”.

---

Half way through the show, Lola began to hysterically laugh into her microphone as she feet stopped at the very front of the stage.

“What’s tickled you?”. Hannah asked from where the others looked over at their bandmate holding onto her sides to steady herself.

In between her giggles, she managed to explain. “I just read a sign that said ‘YN sings love songs but I bet my grandma has had more action recently��”.

YN jaw dropped as she listened to the crowd burst with laughter knowing it was a standard joke to let it known how single she was.

Louis wondered how YN would handle this situation and to his surprise, and amusement, her whit had him hooked. “Honey…if you’re relying on your man to satisfy you, you’re going it wrong…because I know how to satisfy and keep that tempo right”.

Louis liked her. A lot.

Taglist:

@wh0s-nadii @shanice

Songs by Little Mix

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

My Bloody Visceral Valentine 18+ Only!

Warning: Smut and Lots of it. Some mild blood and biting. Also talk of taking medical/research samples

Summary: Side story to the Severe Miscalculation storyline. It's the day for Love and Lullaby has a surprise for their tall, dark, handsome Loverboy!

Tags: @kit-williams @egrets-not-regrets @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts @bispecsual @moodymisty @jaghatai-khock

Enjoy this slightly late Valentine's Fic! 💌💘💝💖💗💓💞💕💟❣

A soft oasis of comfort and warmth surrounds you.  You Yaaaaaawn and stretch, but you don't remove the blankets

Purrrrrrrr… a large cool arm wraps around your midsection and pulls you back against a similarly muscled frame. Soft dry lips press gentle but insistent kisses starting at your shoulder and trailing up to your neck. 

They tickle but you don't want to pull away, and thankfully you don't have to. “Mmm…Morning sweetness…” You coo, pressing back into the affection. You reach up, burrowing your fingers into his long coarse dark hair so you can scratch his scalp the way you Know he likes. 

“rrrrrRRRRRRR!” The purring doubles.

 The kisses turn damp, and just a little bit sharp. It makes a wonderful twitch light up in your core. 

“Hmmm….” Khopesh inhales, he knows practically before your arousal hits your nerves. 

But you can't let things get Too far ahead, not yet anyway. “Mmmm, do you know what day it is?” You ask, running your fingers through his hair. 

Your question seems to confuse the Nightlord for a moment, he pulls back just a little while he thinks. “Friday...the 14th?” 

You smile and the Nightlord feels the shift as your excitement grows. “Yeeeees, do you know what that means Sugar Plum?” You turn, wrapping your arms around Khopesh's neck, and planting a quick kiss on his lips. 

“Friday…the 14th- Oooooh! It's a Holiday isn't it?” 

“Yep! But not just Any holiday.” You say matter of fact, and slip from his grasp to pad over to the fridge. The hum of the machine picks up when you open the door and fish out your first gift of the day. 

You'd been Extra sneaky covering it with packaged meat products. 

The momentary disappointment Khopesh felt when you'd left the bed, was replaced with intense curiosity. His enhanced nose smells something…Tasty…Fruity! He LOVES fruity things. 

You turn revealing a compact but densely packed bouquet, but rather than actual flowers the blooms are made from carefully carved and arranged fruit. The stems are even made from chocolate. You can't help but feel your grin stretching as Khopesh's dark eyes widen, his tongue traces over his sharp teeth clearly pleased with your offering. 

“This, is for Me?” Khopesh asks, marveling at the edible arrangement as you shuffle back onto the bed. He pulls a strawberry rose from the bunch and gleefully pops it in his gnashing teeth. 

“I had some help from Zaarius and Olly, but I'm proud to say this is all handmade…which is why some of the stems look a bit…wonky.” You say sheepishly, pointing out some areas where the chocolate hadn't been as obedient as you would've liked. 

Khopesh responds by simply plucking up the treat you pointed out and devouring it accordingly. “Delicious. Thank you, my Lullaby!” He purrs, setting your gift on the Night table before scooping you up and gathering you close. The movement makes you squeak in surprise, but next you're suppressing a soft pathetic moan. Khopesh grins as he subtly grinds his hips.   The rapidly growing bulge presses right where he knows you like it as you straddle him. “But I'm also in the mood for something…else~”

You see the devious glint in his eyes, and you know exactly what's on his mind. But rather than jumping to playfully challenge him or give his own medicine back you just take a moment to…take Khopesh in. 

He notices how you aren't falling into your normal rhythm of banter, but before he can ask he feels his stomach flip. He sees the look in your eyes now. 

They are full to the brim with adoration, simple, sweet, blissful adoration. A love so intoxicating he'd never let himself be cut off if he could help it. You brush your knuckles over Khopesh's broad pale cheek, before tracing down to his cool lips. You lean down to brush your nose to his, the gesture is so…So soft. 

He simultaneously feels so caught off guard and so So full of yearning. Your hips move softly, but with a purposeful rhythm, now it's his turn to groan in his throat. “My precious Creature of the Night.” You whisper, so hushed yet so firm in your conviction. “My moon and stars. So strong and beautiful and brave and heroic. My Love~” 

He Is a creature of the night. He Is strong and in some ways Beautiful. And if Bravery meant running in with minimal planning, Maybe. But Heroic? Khopesh would've snorted had he not been so struck dumb. 

A creature like him did not deserve such a description. With all he'd done, the blood and terror he'd sown like seeds of the harvest he…did not…

Your hips grind harder into his clothed member, making him seize up from the pleasure. So familiar, but so good. 

But oh…Oh he was also Greedy. So very Greedy, and you so very willing to give love and receive his enthusiastic affection in turn. Whatever he's done, he Must have accrued some good karma to be given to you. (Given ALL of this honestly, in a warm safe home built by his Vada and Muti so he and You could have a perfect little slice of the world all to yourselves.)

Yes! Yes please! Praise me, Keep me LOVE me. Never ever ever ever Ever let me Go! He wants to beg, but it seems words are a little beyond him at the moment. The corners of your mouth turn up in a gentle but almost knowing smile. The pad of your finger traces his lips. His mouth and throat go dry. 

He wants, he…wants…

“Today is Valentine's Day.” You explain. “Named for the Saint who was executed brutally after he was found to be conducting marriages, despite their being an imperial edict against it. You might find the history interesting…But these days.” You lean down, gently holding Khopesh's sweet face in your small warm hands. Your hips don't stop circling, the softness, the warmth, the pleasure; it's melting his brain in the Best way. You lean your forehead to his. “It's for celebrating all that is Love. Our friends, our family and of course,” You gently ‘boop’ the end of the Nightlord's crooked nose. “Especially, The Love between partners. I'm…I'm so happy I get to celebrate with you.” You say sincerely, even a little emotional under your gentle words. 

After everything you've faced in your miniscule human life span, you feel just as greatful as the Nightlord under you does. To have each other. To not have to face the imposing dark nor the blinding sunlight alone. 

“Sometimes I don't think it's…healthy. Some of the thoughts I have about you. How…Obsessive I feel just Watching you be you.” You say, gently touching nose to nose with your Nightlord. “I worry that I might smother you, or come off as too needy…but for today, just for today…could you…”

Khopesh waits with bated breath, anticipation, anxiety and arousal twisting his stomach in knots. What an odd thing to feel excitement so palpable it Almost feels like too much. 

“Could you…let me worship you? Be obsessed with you, and not worry about that being wrong or unhealthy?” You ask, hushed and nervous. 

He wets his dry lips, “I'd like nothing more…please…tell me.”

You take a deep breath, raise up your arms and remove your sleep shirt. Baring your form to him as you'd done many times before. 

And like those times Khopesh feels the urge, seeing your delightful warm, soft, sun speckled skin. He wants it in his mouth, under his tongue and teeth, in his hands and squishing and molding under his claws. Like a human stress toy, with every squeeze and bite he'd feel his tension release and his arousal spike. 

But you want to speak your mind, and Khopesh's desire to hear Your desires outweighs his want to flip you over and dominate you. What a wonderful thing to be under your spell. Khopesh thinks. 

So so wonderful indeed as your hips resume grinding in earnest. He pulls in a hissing breath through his sharp teeth, and forces his hands to stay on your hips. 

You feel the dampness in your core, meeting the small wet bead of Khopesh's precum through your respective undergarments. Your mouth waters at the thought of swallowing him down, making him cum down your throat while you jaw aches with the stretch. But patience, first. 

“I dream...of making a warm safe place for us.” You say, pulling the hem of Khopesh's underwear down so his flushed cock can be released from it's confines. “Where I can wrap you in the softest blankets, bed you down with the fluffiest pillows,” Your hand grasps his flesh firmly but gently. “Feed you delicious food…make sure you want for nothing, including pleasure.” You stroke, slowly but with the perfect amount of pressure. With your other hand you pull your undergarments from your body. 

Khopesh forces himself to remain still, though his back and hips still bow just slightly, desperately pushing into the warmth of your hand. 

You feel another delicious pulse of arousal in your folds as the precum drips down your hand and slickens your palm. “I'd give you access to my body whenever you'd want it. And I'd always make sure you had softness here.” You reach with your other hand to Khopesh's stomach, tracing gentle but reverent touches to the layer of plush tissue that resided over his core muscles. The presence a testament to how far he'd come from starving to the point of near death. 

“Is…my current softness not to you liking?” Khopesh asks a little confused, not half because his brain is melting with every  movement of your hand. 

You smile and huff, without any bite. “No silly, I just mean…so you'd never have to face growing so thin again.” You reassure him. “You told me you'd faced shortages in your life…so if I was able to, I'd make sure you never had to worry about that. I'd keep you well fed, and well loved.” You lay yourself down so your face can rub and squish into the Night Lord's stomach, while keeping up the movement of your hand. Your other hand wraps around his body for leverage. “I Love your softness, and your strength. So by the same logic I wouldn't want to keep you overfed to the point of pain. Just keeping you perfectly satisfied. Mind, body and soul. You have such a beautiful soul.��� More kisses, and the soft texture of your cheeks, hair and lips further intensifies the ticklish heat in his stomach. 

Fuck your hand was Too good. You knew his weaknesses, and you were using all of them all while squishing and rubbing your face into his core and purring about how much you love him. The contrast was almost comical. Between the lustful movements being performed by your surprisingly strong grip, and the fluffy borderline saccharine half hug and nuzzle you're performing on his stomach. 

Then you up the ante by moving your wonderful soft damp hands down further to cup and fondle his testes, as well as speeding your ministrations on his shaft. He, he can't- Can't hold it back- 

“Lu-Lullaby!” Khopesh groans as the peak that's been building hits and he cums. The white gene fluid spills over your hand in heavy drips. A few strays land elsewhere, namely your hair. 

Mildly surprised, you do take a moment, using your clean hand to feel for and collect the bit that went astray in your hair. And for a moment you compare the miniscule dot to the much more…prominent splattering on your other hand. 

“Pfft!” And then you break into laughter. The wonderful, charming, warm laughter that is music to Khopesh's ears, even when it is loud and snorting. It's Perfect. 

“You're Perfect…” He breathes, meaning it totally and fully. He reaches down, and his long clawed fingers trace under your chin. 

“Hmm..I'm not…but I don't mind that.” You say, in reply. As if by habit you begin licking your hand clean. “I have a lot of Love in my life. So I must be doing something righAIT!”

A growl that was equal parts excitement and frustration bubbles up from Khopesh's chest and he yanks (carefully) your much smaller form up until you're basically hovering over your head. 

“Say those things again.” Khopesh insists, peppering kisses, and nips on your thighs as he forces them to straddle his face. 

“S-say, w-what again?” You ask, barely able to string words together. The mix of confusion and arousal makes your stomach flip, and your core twist. 

“The things you desire. Say them again!” Khopesh demands, then presses his mouth to your core in a firm kiss. Giving you a quick jolt of pleasure, before pulling away again. 

Oh now you get it. And you're suddenly struck with slight embarrassment. He wants you to lay yourself bare, While he eats you out. But your core is hurting from how aroused you are so you take a deep breath. 

“I…I want to make a safe place for us.” Khopesh purrs, pulling you down slowly but firmly so he can set his mouth to work. 

The tracing of his tongue from slit to clit makes you tremble, back and forth, back a forth. You force yourself to focus. 

“I love our nest…Both of them. But I-I'd Love a whole room for just that.” You pant, gently shifting your hips to follow that wonderful stimulation Khopesh is giving you. “A place- a place where the whole room would be…Soft. Maybe a bed in the center, on the fl-FlOor! C-covered in pillows and blankets and plushies.”

“Ah, Like a literal nest, but just for Us.” Khopesh hums, before returning to his work. Now swirling his tongue around your sensitive little pearl.

“Uh! Uh-huh! And- whenever, we wanted to just…get away from everything- just for a while- we could just be Us. Pretend…pretend the world doesn't exist. Just for a while.” You agree, now fully flexing and grinding your hips on your Night Lords face. Odd to think a jawline could incite literal pleasure but the feeling of it pressing against your damp folds doesn't lie. 

“Mmm-Lullaby…” Khopesh growls, pressing himself harder into your core as his tongue renders you practically gushing. His hands grasp tighter to your thighs, ensuring you have no escape from the pleasure. You'll possibly have bruises, maybe even claw marks. And in your foggy pleasure drunk mind it causes more arousal to pour into your nerves and out of your slit. 

“I wan-” You pant, nearly losing your words completely. “I want everybody to know I'm Yours.” You tangle your hands into Khopesh's dark hair, and push your Nightlord closer. You feel the slight hard edge of his large sharp teeth but you don't care. You need him closer, closer, Closer.

“I don't just want to smell like you. I want everyone to See it. I'm so Sick of people thinking I'm not Really yours and you're not Really mine.” 

As your legs shake, Khopesh feels his breath catch. Does…does that mean you'd be willing to let him mark your skin, more permanently? By the stars he hopes so! He's been meaning to bring it up, but with how strong willed you are, he'd worry it would come off as pushy.

“I want it! I want everyone to see I'm Yours.” Your breath seems to catch, and your body shakes. The pleasure and hormone cocktail is clearly causing your emotions to roil. “Maybe a Collar, or a bandana! Something that says…Stay Away I'm already Loved…I! I'd love that! Fashion and function! Hehe-OH!” You chuckle, before your brain is completely overwhelmed by pleasure.

You want this. His Lullaby Wants him! To be claimed, kept, touched, kissed, Loved, Marked by him! Nothing you could say could make him more aroused than he is in this moment and at once he turns that energy back on you. He suckles, and slurps, and overstimulates your labia and clit till you have no choice but to soak his face in your juices. 

“K-kHoPesh!” You shriek, grinding and pulling at his hair helplessly as he continues to rock your world with his tongue. Through the final peak and after still you're left twitching and shuddering on his face. His incredibly satisfied and wet face. “Hah…Haaah,” You pant, honestly surprised by the intensity of what just happened. “Kh-khopesh…?”

“Mmmm,” The Nightlord beneath you hums full of satisfaction, and you flinch as his tongue laps over your pink swollen flesh. Making sure nothing goes to waste and sending small overstimulated sparks through your folds. Fuck so good, but also Ow. 

You look down between your shaky, sticky thighs to see that dark eyed grin peaking up at you with so much Cheek. And again for a moment you just…lock eyes, just enjoying being in each others sight, however comical your positions. It's only broken when Khopesh's expression shifts to one of confusion then to panic.

“Shit it's still a training day for you! Anrir is going to flay me alive for this!” Khopesh groans in frustration, which causes you to giggle. “...Why are you not concerned about my potential flaying?”

“Oh…that's the second part of the surprise.” You explain, “I made sure we both got the whole day off.” You say proudly. 

“What? But how?” Anrir may have a mate he could spend this day with, but from what Khopesh was recalling only certain Holidays allowed for complete days off work or school. He may not have remembered Valentine's day but by that logic he figures it's not in that category. 

Anrir's Draga would likely have to spend part of the day at her business, especially if parents and couples wanted alone time on this romantic holiday. That means Anrir wouldn't see her until After daycare and thus would likely try to keep to his usual schedule of study and training for you.  He was rather a stickler about such things. 

“I can be very persuasive…”

“Alright what's it gonna take?” You'd asked the ancient as fuck Nightlord. 

“I beg your pardon?” Anrir replied, slightly caught off guard by you lingering after your training and testing.

“Hair, blood, skin, liver tissue, enamel, bone marrow. Name your price old man, because I want the 14th of this month off Completely for both Khopesh and myself.” You said, with complete confidence. 

Anrir stood there stunned at your forwardness. “In exchange for a day off…you are offering me…samples?”

You nodded. “Yep, I Know Draga won't be available till evening with her job. So that leaves you with nothing to do except science until You get to go home to your wifey on the day of Love.” You hummed. “And based on how you reacted Last time Khopesh kept me from getting here on time, I wanted to cut that issue off at the pass.”

Anrir…chuckled, both because you weren't wrong. The event you're referring to is when Khopesh had… a lapse in judgment; tiring you out so thoroughly and scuttling his ability to run tests on you for the remainder of that day. He'd perhaps been a bit harsh in his correction, but it wasn't like he was going to turn down your generous offer. “I see…but may I ask…what gave you the idea to bargain this way?”

You grinned wryly. “Please Anrir, we're both scientists at heart And have spent a decent amount of time together. I Know you're itching to see if my abilities have had some tangible effect on my biology. Lord knows you take my saliva and blood often enough to tell me that.”

Anrir huffs in delight, and only mild frustration at being found out. “Very well…I will be taking samples of your skin, hair And your bone and bone marrow.” He declares, shuffling through the carefully sterilized tools in his vicinity, and he hopes you don't notice the Slight excited tremble of his hands. He pulls something that resembles a giant needle out. “Please lay on the table, this will be done soon and you'll only need a few days off to recover.”

You gulp, but nod. “Got it…”

“How…You...That's absolutely brilliant!” Khopesh crows jovially, before bringing his large pale hands to squish your cute sweet face, gently of course. “How are you so adorable and yet so Devious~”

You smile through the squishing, fully embracing the affection. “I learned from the Best.” You reply, before gesturing to your water bottle. “Now hand me some water. I want to go again soon.”

Khopesh can't help himself. He cackles, full and sharp, but he does so while grabbing the water for you. You chug down half the large bottle in one go before setting is aside with a determined look. 

“Alright! Bring it!”

….

“Kh-khopesh! M-more!” Leg strung up in the air over his shoulder, feeling the slap, slap, slap, Slap of him fucking you sideways so deeply it makes your form jolt with every impact. “Ah! Ah! S-so good! Keep going!” You demand, gasping and sweat slicked as Khopesh growls with pleasure every time he drives his flesh into your needy sheath. 

The pressure of your insides hugging him so tightly, yet so slick and yielding at the same time. He's going to fill you so full in a matter of seconds so he reaches down and stimulates your sweet little pearl with his fingers.

“Ye! Yeeeees,” You sigh so gratefully as the high hits, causing your muscles to strain and your insides to grip him like a vice. He groans his own satisfaction as his seed pours into your warmth. 

“Mmm…keep…keep moving.” You sigh, and move your own hips back. It's a gentle rocking, compared to the rough pounding you just got, but the aftershocks and fading pleasure sparks feel So much better this way. Khopesh naturally gives you exactly what you want. 

…

“...gulk..ulp…ulk…mmm…” You're held upside down, and your brain is going even more hazy as you're repeatedly moved up and down on his cock like a fleshlight. The stretch in your throat you'd been yearning for at the start is finally being addressed. It burns and strains but your Khopesh is gentle and doesn't leave you unattended to. 

No, no, no he's too busy lapping and suckling and pushing a different muscle into your silky wet folds; seemingly trying to sample every drop you'll give him. 

Your mind is too cockdrunk to really think about that at the moment though. All you care about is the pleasure you're receiving and giving. Almost unconsciously you start humming in your throat. “Mmmm…MMmm~” You blearily think about how slutty it would seem to hum for a cock in your mouth and throat the way one would hum after tasting something delicious. 

But again you don't care for modesty, or dignity or any higher concept at the moment. And you're with someone that makes you feel so safe, and cares for you so well that you don't need to think about such things. (Though somewhere your brain knows the post-nut clarity is going to hit like a truck and you'll feel self conscious for a while.)

For now though you're content, and blissed out and swallow Khopesh's member into your throat again as far as it will go. You want him to come down your throat. You want to swallow his essence, and feel it settle in your stomach.

“Mmm! MmM! L-Lullaby!” Khopesh shudders as his next peak approaches and he stuffs his face into your folds. 

The spike in your own pleasure has you crying out, and the vibrations and swallowing of your throat break him. You feel the prick in your mouth twitch and actually moan as you feel the heat of his release empty down your throat. Or it would go down if you weren't…currently hung upside down. Some of it catches in your mouth as Khopesh slides himself free of you. 

“MmmmrrrrrrrRrrrRRrRr!” Khopesh lets out a trilling purr as he rights you, and gathers you close. You're still a bit loopy and lightheaded and he gleefully thumbs the cum dripping from the corners of your mouth away. 

You smile, and lick the pads of the thumb in question. It causes his arousal to spike all over again, but he does force himself to wait until he can get you to drink some water and take a few bites of a protein bar again. 

…

“Ahhg! Ahg! MmmMmm! Mm! MM! MM!” Your cries are muffled in the forearm in front of you as Khopesh holds you practically in a headlock. (At your request of course.) 

Your sore puffy flesh makes soft but distinct plap, plap, plap, Plap! As Khopesh fucks you with quick, firm strokes of his hips. Not all of them go deep but those that do, you feel his testes rub and slap against your folds and the feeling of being so close makes your mouth water. 

“Rrrrrrr- Lullaby…my…My Lullaby! Mine, always mine!” Khopesh mutters with desperation and pleasure. He nuzzles, and nibbles your hair and your sweet little ears. 

The feeling is ticklish, and you decide to use your last bits of devious energy to pull out your last surprise. “I love you,” The Gothic causes Khopesh's hips to stutter, just for a moment and then you continue. “So fuck me like I'm yours!” 

The words have an immediate effect. Khopesh snarls before going into a flutter of Gothic. “LULLABY!” He drives his cock into your wet, silky depths with new vigor. The creamy ring of your mixed fluids seems to almost splash with the force he's exerting. You can only understand certain words 

"Soft, Devious, Warm, Precious, Clever, Mine, Mine, MINE, MINE!"

The pleasure becomes too much and you fire back. “You! You too!! You're Mine!” You sink your teeth into the forearm in front of you, as your climax hits. 

The sudden ache twists deliciously with Khopesh's own pleasures, and he bears his fangs as he cums. It just so happens your perfect, soft, biteable flesh is right, in front of his mouth. 

A sharp pain lances up your shoulder, but the cocktail of pleasure chemicals not only dull it, but make it so the sharp edge heightens the trembling aftershocks pouring from your core. You're dripping and shaking and feeling so So good but also, why are your shoulder and hair wet?

“MmrrRRR- Lu-LULLABY!? OH CURZE FUCK LULLABY!?” Khopesh is upset but you're not sure why, floating on a cloud of sensation and feeling soooo fluuuuuffy and satisfied.

“Heheheh, cutie pie.” You coo, feeling the wet on your shoulder spread a bit as you try to reach up and boop his adorable crooked nose. You fumble your lips around as you realize there's a coppery taste in your mouth. 

“Stay calm! I'm going to grab the bandages! Thank fuck it doesn't seem…as deep as it…could be…Fuck Fuck FUCk FUCK!” He mutters as he pulls open the night table drawer. 

Bandages? Your baby needs bandages? What happened? Then as he fumbles you see your bloody teeth marks in his forearm.

Oh! OH! “Oh No?? Baby!?” You whine, jumping up to grab his injured forearm. In the back of your mind your shoulder does hurt a little more now but no time for that. 

Khopesh seems struck dumb by you suddenly latching onto your arm. “Lullaby!? You need to hold still I-”

He cuts off his speech when he sees tears beading in your eyes. “I'm sorry Baby! I'll fix it!” You promise, holding the bleeding arm close to your chest and pulling on your power. Khopesh is too stunned to stop you, and before his eyes the miniscule wounds close even faster than they would normally. 

It seems the flow of power also affects you, and your shoulder bite wounds close up roughly. Khopesh hisses under his breath, he knows that the freshly closed bites will be a noticeable scar. 

Once his own minuscule injury has been healed to a nearly invisible scar, you stop pulling on your power and smile at your work. “There, all better.” You giggle, kissing him from his wrist to his forearm while nuzzling and hugging the limb to your body. 

The body that still has a decent amount of congealing and drying blood from your back to your chest. 

He's…he's going to have to talk to Anrir about this. And the possible infection, and antibiotics but for now he just…sighs in relief and disbelief. A small smile turns up the corners of his mouth as he gathers you close.

You hum happily, all unpleasantness seemingly forgotten. He grabs hydration for both of you and coaxes you into drinking. Then he makes sure you eat something, a ration bar in this case. He's fairly certain you don't have the energy or patience for anything more right now. 

“Happy Valentine's Day, Sweetness…” You sigh, contentedly. You snuggle your face into his body as he laps the blood from your skin. 

Khopesh huffs, full of warmth. “Happy Valentine's Day, my Lullaby.” Then he returns to cleaning you. 

…

Several Hours Later 

“ooooooowwww,”

“Should I get the pain medication?”

“Mm-hmm,”

“And the hot water bottle?”

“Mm-hm,”

"You'll need food as well. Would you like me to order us a pizza?"

"Mmm-hm."

"Alright, you just focus on resting. Here, drink some water for me."

“Looove you so Muuuch…oooooow.”

[meowrimo]

oh em gee … having the naughtiest amoro thoughts 🙈 you riding him as grips your hips … you cradling his head, close to your chest … breathless, love filled moans escaping your lips as he smiles and deepens his thrusts! amorooo my belovedsss! does he ever bite you, aims? do you ever bite him? and prone boneee eeep … he is so massive … and you, underneath him, taking his cock like a pro 😵‍💫 does he call you his good girl as he sinks into you? atta girl as you ride him?! AAAIIIMMMSSS 💗💕💓💘💝💞💖 i must know all the details (and your third favorite position, hehe)

ROMAAAAAAA !!!!!!!!!!

oh my goodness the way you hit the nail on the head .. i feel so SEEN !! /pos because yes yes yes i would absolutely cradle him so close, i need to hold him & love him thoroughly :( ! the thought of him gripping my hips and being overall handsy makes me DIZZY. he’s so strong and i’d feel so secure i’m /ᐠ ๑ ˕ ๑ ྀིマ

we do bite each other all the time, a lot of times he’ll bite my shoulder and not let go so all his groans and grunts become muffled against my skin and oooo…. but i do bite back !!! my go to is to suck on his fingers though 🫣

him calling me good girl … CRITICAL DAMAGE ! i think he also calls me pretty girl, messy girl hehe atta girl, that’s my girl, he’s just proud that i am his :( ! sometimes he will get sooo lost in it that praise just spills from his lips. he doesn’t even realize he’s babbling it out at first, it’s just completely natural to let it all go and fully be in the moment <33

[chaikachi]

Hello~! I have a little RG thought (or prompt, I’m not quite sure what they’re called) and I have to share it, because I cannot, for the ever life of me, keep it to myself.

Okay, this was actually inspired from an old Disney movie I watched when I was younger. Imagine sometime during V10 or V11, everyone in Vacuo is getting ready for an intense battle. Oscar is helping out somebody when he notices Ruby at a distance. She’s checking up on certain sections and giving orders like a proper leader. We’ve seen her at her lowest, thinking who she is isn’t enough, so she is a blooming rose once more as she prepares herself and her team with the prowess of a true Huntress.

And Oscar just…melts at the sight of her.

He lowers his gaze, blushes and smiles ever so softly, and can’t bring himself to turn away. Maybe it’s the fact that she is alive when he had thought her to be dead for so long. Perhaps it’s seeing her so full of hope and inspiration again after having seen her so defeated from whatever she and her team experienced in the Ever After. Or maybe it’s the part of him that always admires the side of Ruby who always takes initiative and chooses to keep moving forward. But it doesn’t matter which reason it is; he can’t let himself lose the chance of having brief seconds of her in his memory.

Eventually, Ruby looks over to realize Oscar staring. Panicking, he hides himself away in the silliest way. Ruby tries to go back to her work, but a part of her can’t help but smile from the way he was looking at her…

I swear, these two are just so adorable 😭💕

YOU

THIS IS ADORABLE, WHO GAVE YOU THE RIGHT! >:OOOOO

Oscar being so happy that she's okay and shining brighter than ever before. Ruby, now paying attention to the feelings she's hidden away for so long, actually noticing how he looks at her and not being entirely upset about the attention. They!! Make me!! Unwell!!!

AHHHHHHHHHHLDSKJF;LSK 😭💘💗💖💓💕💞💝

[yoomtahsgf]

hi amaria gush to me about. yoomtah 🦌🦌

WYYYYAYYYYYYYYYY YAYYYYYYYYYY PEACE AND LOVE ON PLANEJT EARTH.also hi the random deers.Ummm unmmmmm<3you can look at her Ok

SHES SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO CUTES.OK DID YOU KNOW THIS.......THE CUTEST IN THE WORLD EVER...........YOU CAN SEE RIGHT FROM LOOKING AT HER.TBH.i mkinda eepy my brain isnt working good i tgink i just want to look at her for 4736484873948377 hours..............shes s so sillies in the world looka t her face i want to squish her.just smoosh her face around affectionately.DID U KNOW.SHES THE CUTESTTTTTTTRTRT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!N LIKE I LOVE HOW GOOFY AND STUFF SHE IS SHE MAKES ME SMILE.......NOW SEE HER BEIGN SILLIE.............

OKAYYYTTYYYY LOOK AT HERRRRRRRRRR HER LIL DANCY DANCE.THIS VIDEO MAKES ME SO HAPPY IT MAKES ME WANT TO TEAR PEOPLE APART WITH MY TEETH I LOVE HERRRRRRRRRR RGRRAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH SHES THE MOST ADORABLE THIGN PHYSICALLY POSISBLE.OKAY.LOOK AT HER AND TELL ME IM WRONG SERIOUSLT YOU CANT.N SHE GLOWS IN THE DARK AND HUMS ALL SILLY N STUFF AND NNSHES SO CUTE IM.GONAN CRY I LOVE HER BWAAAAUAUUUUHHH............YOOMTAH MY BELOVEDDDDDDDDD🖤🫶🌼👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🌻🤎🎀💖💞💛💟💘💕����❤️‍🩹🌼❤️‍🩹💓❤️🎉❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹🩵💟✨️🫶🤎🩵💌🤎🤎💖🩶❤️🌻💜🏵💜💜🏵💜🎉🤍💛💕🩵💋💘🎆🌻💌❤️‍🔥🌈♥️🧡🎀💝💖💗💚💟🌩❤️‍🩹💫🏵💗💝💝🤎🩷💛❣️❤️‍🔥❣️💌🧡🎉♥️🫶♥️♥️💛🧡⚡️💞💟💚💟🌩🏵💫❤️❤️‍🔥♥️♥️💌♥️💌❣️💛⚡️💛💟🤎❤️❤️🎀🩶💕❤️🌈❤️‍🩹❤️‍🔥💝🤍💝🫶❣️🎀💓🩶🌩❤️💙💋❤️‍🔥🖤🌩🖤🌩💟💌💚🩷💚🩷💗💚🌻💌🌻❤️💘🌩🧡🩶🧡🌈💞💫💚❤️‍🔥🤎❤️‍🔥💕🎉💫🩷💕💗🤎🌻❤️‍🔥🖤💙💋🩶🍋🩶🖤👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩🌼❣️🌼🫶✨️🫶💜💝✨️💘✨️💜💗❤️‍🩹💟💓🫶💓💗💓💕✨️🍋✨️🩷♥️💕♥️🎀🩶❤️‍🩹💖OKAYYYIM GOING TO ROLL ON THE FLOOR AND CRY BECAUSE I LOVE HER SO MUCH I WOULD DIE FOR HER OK I WOULD KILL AND DIE FOR HER ANYTHING FOR HER BECAUSE I LOVE HER OK.MORE THAN ANYTHING.SHE IS EVERYTHING.............OK.IM GOING TO TAKE THE NEXT PERSON WHO LOOKS AT HER THE WRONG WAY AND TEAR THEIR HEART OUT AND GIVE IT TO HER AS A GIFT OF UNDYING DEVOTION.I MEAN WHATTTTTTTTTTT #NORMAL

[roadyblr]

these were so heartwarming to see and I’m very grateful that junghoon could be with them and doing things especially around the holidays

he was gone for so long and now he’s back and I’m so happy!!! he may always look like this => (-_-) but he’s a big part of the group. recently I saw a TikTok edit of ot10 but ninjas was crying and it was to “Like Him” by Tyler, The Creator. (he’s so freaking talented)

it was so sad and so sweet at the same time T-T

——————————————————————————————————

I’m very grateful for you. seeing you respond to my silly little asks always makes me happy and smiley. you improve my mood everyday when you post and I’m always looking foreword to checking your blog after school.

what you say is seriously funny and I’m very thankful for you :) you’re one of my favourite people lately. especially since a lot of my friends have been going on vacation and I don’t have very many people to talk to. you’ve been so sweet and I can’t tell you enough thank you.

you never fail to make me smile and it brings me genuine joy to talk to you :) and for that I wanna give you a present 🎁

love ya!!!💖💕💗💘💝💓💞🩷

this was so sweet i kinda don't know what to say 😭😭

thank you??? 💜💜 :> i'm glad that i can do that for you ik holidays aren't my favorite because my main friend has like actual holiday traditions and isn't around for me to talk to all the time so i understand that

but that really means a lot i'm glad that that's someting someone thinks about me, i'm very happy to be able to provide something like that!

also roadyblr honesty hours also i don't think i'm all that funny or at least in big capacity i tend to be a little more censored on roadyblr because i can come off a little weird to people or at least sometimes i mess up my words a bit/overthink so its good to know that i'm still able to be a blog you feel okay talking to despite that

on junghoon hours when i see his -ㅅ- face i always remeber the april fools video where his mom said she worried he'd be lonely but now he has 9 brothes and that he has the prettiest smile but she doesnt get to see it that often im SOBBING-

[xxinkyshadowxx]

Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile! Add a heart so we know how long the chain's been going! ❤️🖤💖🤍💚💛💗💙🩶🩵🤍🤎💟💜❣️❤️‍🩹💝🫀💖♥️💘❤️‍🔥💕🩶💜💛🫶💕💖💖💓💞💝❤️🩷🩵🧡🩷🫰💛❤️‍🔥💚

I love your art and memes of Kieran lol- plus with vanilla! (I hope I got his name right-) it always makes me happy to see Kieran being a little guy lol

LMAOOO I DIDNT EVEN SEE THAT YOU SENT THIS B4 I SENT IT TO YOU

[inspiredwriter]

Stefany : Oh mi tortuguita, te gusta mi lindo vestido para jugar esta noche 😊😘👗💝💖💕dejaré que veas abajo de mi falda😈🤭💞💗(pensamientos💭) Espero que vea Por qué no me puse tanga es una sorpresa☺️🤫👙💘💞💕

***

Anastasia : mi príncipe me queda bien mi vestido como una princesa 🥰😁👗✨💝💕¿en negro me ve hermosa? ☺️🖤💞💖

***

April : Oh mi adorado Genio te gusta mi vestido para esta noche de baile romántico para ti en privado en la cama 😈😏👗🛏️💕💗💞💝💘

***

Candy : mi Osito de peluche vez que este vestido me veo bella o Quieres no verla si me la quito? 😈😘👗💕💖💗❣️

@inspiredwriter

Leonardo: Ah, my kitty, you look just like Sailor Moon from the cartoon🥰🤩🌒✨ Try to strike a heroic pose, I will reward you generously for it😏💘💖💕

Stefany: Okay, Leo😄😍💝💞 *Stands in a cool pose* I am Sailor Moon and I bring retribution in the name of love!✌😃✨❣️💗💘

Leonardo: *Undresses* Excellent job, now take off your magic armor and I'll see how beautiful you are🥰😘👗🥿💝💓💞 *Sits on the bed and puts on a condom*

***

Michelangelo: Mmm, you look like a black swan and i love it so much, babe~😍🥰🫶🦢🖤💞💕

Anastasia: Thank you, my prince😳🤭💘💖 Then why don't you kiss this swan so that she turns into a beautiful princess and you make love to her😘🦢👑✨💗💕

Michelangelo: *Undresses* Tonight I will make you the happiest princess in the world😍😈👖💓💖💞 *Kisses Anastasia on the lips* Mmmmuah~😚💕💝

***

Donatello: Wow, my honey pie, do you want to dance on my pole?~😍😏💃💗💝💘

April: *Comes to Donnie and hugs his waist* Of course, my genius, give him here and I’ll dance for you🫰🥰💖💗💞

Donatello: *Takes off his pants* No, no, no, beauty, I'm not talking about this pole😘😈👖💓💘💖💕

***

Raphael: *Blushes* Woah, my love, you look magnificent, just like a Korean idol singer😍🥰🌟🎤💝💗 *Swallows nervously and tries to smile cheekily* Of course, I want to see your naked body😳😏👍💘💖💞

Candy: *Comes to Raph and sits on his lap* Thank you, Raphi, you're so cute when you blush🥰😘💗💕 *Strokes Raph's belly* Do you want to undress me yourself or for me to do it?😈🫦👗👡💓💝💕

Raphael: Well, turn your back to me, I'll help you do it, my sweet and after that you will help undress me, okay?😏😘💓💘💞 *Kisses Candy on the back* Mmmmmuah~😚💗💖💘💕

@swagtreecrown

[amazingmsme]

OKAY HELLO I AM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO SEND I HAD TO DO SOMETHING FOR A COUPLE HOURS BUT!!! I AM HERE TO SCREAM

i am going to be thinking about your fic for the rest of my life. odysseus is such an ASSHOLE and i adore it. the way he mocks him and turns everything he says against him, the shirt over his face sounds AWFUL, the playful fake growling and chewing sounds? sir??? also whenever it says that his voice gets lower or growly or threatening i just imagine it as the voice he does when he says “you’ve lost” or “i’m not sure i follow” from done for and boy does that add to the experience. also the way he fixes polites’ glasses for him 🥺

AND POLITES MY SWEET ANGEL,, i love how he’s both a sweet adorable dumbass and a bit of a brat when being tickled, like he keeps making all these sassy remarks and insults and then regrets it immediately after, like he just says stuff without really thinking about it first. and i love odysseus just using those remarks as an excuse to be even meaner. i also adore those little moments where polites will be like “i hate you” or “i’ll never talk to you again” and odysseus is just like “shut up you love me” because it’s true and they both know it

these silly dudes just make me so happy and so soft, and you write them so well it made it physically hard to read sometimes cause my brain was just like 💕💖💓💗💝💞💘!!!! and i was smiling so much the whole way through so bravo, i am throwing roses onto the stage at you!!! <3 - fluffvoid

OMG you don’t have to apologize!! I’m just happy to know you enjoyed it! Thank being said AAAAHHH I’M SO HAPPY YOU LIKED IT!!!

I’m literally beaming right now, I seriously loved writing Odysseus as such a teasy asshole, he’s got so much personality & character it was impossible not to make him a straight up bastard lmaoooo

& kzhskabxie don’t get me started on his voice, ok I could hear everything in his voice & I would go over certain scenes to get it right & it was so damn flustering like why did I do that to myself?

Polites is literally so valid, he’s not gonna just shut up & take it, even if he’s worse off for it! It’s his best friend, he HAS to smart off to him when he sees fit, it just felt like something he’d do. Because yes, he is a sweet innocent dude but he grew up alongside Odysseus, some of that sass had to rub off somewhere

I already wanna write more for them, I’m so happy to be passionate about writing again! I just want to hold on to this spark & never let go

[princess-hope-selfships]

What about your f/o makes you smile every single time? Furthermore, what’s something you do that makes your f/o smile every time? with whomever comes to mind first! >:33

I have eternal Ala/s/tor brainrot JFKDSFHDSKJFH he literally always makes me smile every time I see him it's just ridiculous I think his smile is just contagious 'cause he flashes that big grin and I'm like OOOooOOoOoOOOGH 💝💗💓💟💖💘💕💞💖💖💖💗💟💞💖💝💖💗💟

I think for him, it makes him smile more genuinely (since he's always smiling already lmao) when I crack a joke about something, or make a little quip, or just otherwise inject some humor into the conversation. He loves that I am always making little funny comments on everything, and I think it just tickles him every time

[yunverie]

As I retired from my writing era for the time being and now have plenty of times to read, I went a little crazy with the review length 😭🤌

Among those strange beings and within the veils of Aethera, there was a girl loved by death. 

Opening line slapped me in the face then kissed me as an apology.

Crows with dead eyes arrive at your doorstep like some lover’s cheeky gift, other poor creatures like fat grey mice are left to rot in the wheatfields, and yarrow stocks wilt outside the wall of your room. If Death thinks that you are flattered, he misunderstands you.

Never in my wildest dreams did I think words can be woven so... perfectly??? I need to take a look inside your mind Ash. I'm gobsmacked.

The wickerbasket’s handle creaks under your fist. You usually only forage along the shallow line of the forest; you pluck from bramble bushes topped with plump berries that crawl between trees during the summer, and when the crab apple tree’s branches hang heavy with the fruit, you snatch those up too. You’re more useful to your family out here, in the woods that they deem just as cursed as you. Where you won’t be their burden.

Yeah I think you just became my favourite author. No cap. I'm a sucker of poetic writing.

“There you are, love.”

THE NICKNAME LOVE MAKES ME WEAK IN THE KNEES AND IN PLACES I SHOULD NOT NAME‼️‼️‼️‼️

“We go here and there,” he says, “but it’s been a very long time since we came here.” There’s a certain thickness to his words; a certain tension coiled over them from something that you’re not privy to. And yet, there’s a farawayness, too. You bet he’s full of a lifetime of secrets. Lifetimes of secrets. “But I think I’ve found myself a reason to finally return.”

Mc is stronger than me. I would've gotten down on my knees right there and then and give him the most mind boggling head he's ever gotten, bringing him straight to life 💞💕💓💗💖💝💘

His voice takes on a parting tilt when he says, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Death takes us all.” Yeonjun dips his head at you. His smile wavers. You’d think that crooked smile on his mouth was indelible had you not seen it twitch down at the corners only for a moment. If you’d have blinked, you’d have missed it. “You think I’ll hurt you,” he says, “well, don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, run. I apologize for your basket.”

I MAYBE A TAEHYUN GIRLIE IN TSFAWC BUT GODDAMN REVENANT YJ IS MAKING IT UP HERE FOR ME

A deep, familiar voice from behind you gives you pause. “Want some help with that?” Soobin says.

I unfortunately got spoiled and had taken a few days to recover from Soobin’s fate >:(((

He smiles. It's different from the ones he showed you before. It’s knowing; more sweet than cracking over his face like the smile you would expect from the likes of him. What use might he have in being sweet? “Could I join you?”

Omg sirrrrr are you flirting 🫦 teeheeeee

“I was,” he says ruefully. “And I had everything. I had the love of my life. I think that even the most bitter of creatures on this island had envy for our love. She would braid dandelions into my hair, and then I’d braid them into hers.” He swallows thickly and pauses, as if the wound was still festering and fresh. “And then she died. She died starting our family. She died because of me, in my arms.”

Ash wtf man. You can't break my heart like this bro.

Blood runs like lead through your veins. You say, “Can we help it?” He shakes his head. “He’ll die.”

😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

Eventually, he’s gone. Quiet and at peace, no longer hurting. This time, when you look over to Yeonjun who still smooths over the deer’s skin even as he goes, guiding him delicately into whatever greets us when we go, you see death as a gentle thing.

Excuse me while I go jump off. Your writing is fucking beautiful. Phenomenal.

It’s a terrible, cursed existence. Even the nothingness of death becomes a paradise beside it.

????HOW DOES YOUR MIND COME UP WITH SUCH GREATNESS?????

“Do I scare you?”

“No.”

“No?” he echos, pushing himself up so that he leans back onto his palms. “Isn’t that strange? Pretty little thing says she’s not afraid of death, but her heart races when I’m near. Her sweet heart jumps at just the brush of my leg. Are you sure you’re telling me the truth, love?”

Feral delight sparks in his eyes, black as pitch. His smile turns up all feline at the crooked corners. “Crawl to me, then.”

Yeonjun takes the soft fat of your hips in his fingers. “Fuck,” he says. It sounds like he’s barely holding the gates on something endlessly consuming. Something that might break loose on the two of you, and leave you changed forever with its hungry, gnashing teeth. His head hits your collarbone. “Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to go. Because I don’t know how.”

“You think I don’t want you?” he says, straightening up and meeting your gaze. His breath is hot on your mouth. “I want you so fucking bad. You are in the marrow of my bones. Fuck, I have done nothing but want you, but I am foul. I will only hurt you.”

“You want me to show you what I’ve wanted to do to you?” he says, working at his pants. His eyes are so drunk on you, and his cheeks betray his state. “Open your legs, my love. Let me show you a little death.”

Had to put my phone down here. I even ran out of reaction pics.

Your thoughts stall and you nod, making your mouth into a filthy pout. God, how you want that. Maybe he’s right about you being filthy. Coming from him, it sounds like a delicious thing to be.

Same bro same

For the first time in so, so long, you do not feel marked by death.

This and the fact that a few paragraphs ago yeonjun did indeed mark mc is sooooo 🤌🤌🤌

That you think it’s my fault, you want to say. That they all die because I am a plague, and you are a charity worker for being my friend. Instead, you just leave and try to choke down the tightness in your throat.

no.. NO THERE'S NO FUCKING WAY THEY FOUGHT BEFORE HIS DEMISE NO NO NO NO N O KK MXOSMZPALSL ASH NOOOOOO999

Yeonjun feels you go stiff. Bringing his head back to your shoulder from his own delight, he says, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it into your bones. Do you think I would let it hurt you?”

I just keep on falling in love with him oml

Soobin’s dead. Soobin’s dead, and it’s nobody else’s but your own fault.

FUCK FUCK I KNEW THIS WAS COMING BUT GOD IT STILL HURT SO MUCH. I don't think I like you Ash (ily I'm joking)

Don’t go, you want to tell him. Please don’t leave. Please, hold me. But your mouth is dry, and you let the radiant hurt in your chest stop you. You let him go.

ONE THING AFTER ANOTHER ISTG

A tawny hare leaps out in front of you. It sniffs around you, nose twitching. Then it stands back on its haunches. It stares straight at you, an intelligent light in its eyes that knits your brows. The wild thing stands there with a purpose that is uncharacteristic of a forest animal.

But entirely familiar in the face of your best friend. That shine in its eyes as it stands there, nose still twitching, makes your chest tighten up.

NVM ASH I HATE (LOVE) YOU SM GET AWAY FROM MEEEEE I NEED YOU TO PAY FOE MY THERAPY BILLS

For the first time, Yeonjun appears in front of you rather than behind you. He materializes from nothing, his elbow on his knee as casual as if he’d been sat there the whole time. The darkness beneath his eyes seems heavier, but then again you know that exact heaviness. It sits right in the very center of you.

He's now infront of mc. Oh god he's come to take her, isnt he?

Maybe, in some years, somebody might dig up your bones and find you immortalized like this in your love. Your bones bowing toward each other, as if even death were not enough to stop you from reaching for each other. Or maybe they’ll just find yours, and Yeonjun still curling into them how you know he will for an eternity more.

Either way, the going is still slow and gentle, as death always is.

Ash, you've made me speechless. This was peak literature, one of the best, well written angst I've read in a hot minute. Nothing can come near this I'm afraid. I think I will be reading this again and again every time I need to cry lol. I'm sorry I took so long give your works a chance but academics held me back. Better late than never ig 😌 I shall now excuse myself and cry. This review got way longer than I expected but you deserve it.

THE TERRIBLE HALF-TRUTHS OF THE UNDEAD ҜING

⠀(🍂 ) 𝓡EVENANT in folklore, a revenant is a spirit or animated corpse that is believed to have been revived from death to haunt the living ... ( 𝑝𝑙𝑎𝑦𝑙𝑖𝑠𝑡 )

1︎5.5k revenant!yeonjun · ƒ ! r ft. soobin ⸺ ✴︎ 𝖿𝖺𝗇𝗍𝖺𝗌𝗒 ... smut, violence, angst, death, animal death & vivid descriptions of animal death, major character death, unprotected sex, cumming inside, dry humping (because bring it back), biting, dom yeonjun sub reader, mentions of death in childbirth, reincarnation, teasing, breast worship, yj calls reader ‘my love’, def some typos

🪶 ⦂ how fun is this collab? :,) this fic was so fun to write. i personally believe that tsfawc enjoyers will love this one,, but you'll have to read it to confirm that, right? hehe. and of course, go read everybody else's if you love this one! they're all set in the same world, and everybody worked so hard on these fics. send some love their way!

rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd!

𝒪𝑁𝐶𝐸 𝒰𝑃𝑂𝑁 𝒶 𝒯𝐼𝑀𝐸, in a land far, far away, where the treetops touched the soft clouds of the sky and the water sparkled under the glowing sun, where mountains rose high, and long, deep caves ran through them, where the sea met shore in collisions of swirling, foamy punches, where the undead walked among the living, where the winged flew above the finned, there was a land where things beyond reason and rhyme existed perfectly true. Among those strange beings and within the veils of Aethera, there was a girl loved by death. 

He sits on your shoulder, a dark, boding shadow and glared at those around you with promise in his eyes.

That’s how it seems, anyway. That’s how everybody looks at you. They dodge you, whisper about you, evade your gaze as if he might reach his claws for them next if they linger for too long.

Crows with dead eyes arrive at your doorstep like some lover’s cheeky gift, other poor creatures like fat grey mice are left to rot in the wheatfields, and yarrow stocks wilt outside the wall of your room. If Death thinks that you are flattered, he misunderstands you. You are terrified of nothing more than dying. The first time, it was a sly joke. Then it happened again, and you watched their eyes change. And it happened again and again, and your people are a suspicious type. Something can only be a coincidence so many times.

When you began to sneak into a little shack with a village boy, you thought that maybe, somehow, this would all pass. He died too. There’s really no coming back from that, is there? You don’t blame them. You’re not the freak that they all believe you to be—none of them get close enough anymore to know that, though.

The wickerbasket’s handle creaks under your fist. You usually only forage along the shallow line of the forest; you pluck from bramble bushes topped with plump berries that crawl between trees during the summer, and when the crab apple tree’s branches hang heavy with the fruit, you snatch those up too. You’re more useful to your family out here, in the woods that they deem just as cursed as you. Where you won’t be their burden.

Crisp autumn leaves crunch under your boots. You scan between them—more grey and rotted this late in the season than fresh and orangey—for the edible mushrooms and roots that you usually forage at this time of year. The basket’s already pretty heavy with a variety, black morels and sorrel and burdock, as you bend down to pull a truffle from the dirt against a tree.

You drop it down with the rest of your finds. The basket smells like earth, no doubt your hands do too. You dust your palms off on your skirts and go to rise back from your squat.

A deep, billowing horn pierces the forest’s silence. It’s both far away, wiggling between the whispers of rustling leaves, and much too close. It draws out. Long. Bone-chilling. You freeze, scanning between each tree trunk and praying that you won’t find what you fear you might.

You are much deeper into the woods than you usually are. Than you ought to be. And you know what that horn means—you know that it means something far worse than what you’d been afraid of, coming into these woods. Much more primordial than the hide-behinds you were scared you might find this deep, much less avoidable than the faerie rings you stepped around.

Why would The Wild Hunt be here? A shudder runs down your spine, and you curl your fingers into your skirts and lift them as if to prepare to run, but you don’t. Your feet find root in the forest floor and all you can do is stand terribly still in catatonia. Their horn sounds again, and a procession of wicked whoops and howls follow. Wild hoofbeat rumbles under it all—the hunt and their rides. You hope that they’re just passing through, and you won’t so much as see one of those wild riders. There were plenty of folktales that the matrons of your village would bolster to terrify you as children, but you knew even then that their stories of the riders, with their flesh falling away from them and their pale or beady eyes and their gnarled maws and frightening figures as they rode on the backs of equally terrible steeds, were not fabricated. They are not a bogeyman or a wailing banshee; they are death made in the flesh, and they are here. In your forest. 

Your legs won’t work. You curl your clammy fingers tighter around your basket and lean into the tree beside you. How deep had you wandered into the forest? Hopefully not too far; when you gain the courage to run, you hope that they do not send their hounds to snap their foul breath on your heels. Maybe just standing here and blending into the trees is best. The Hunt would love a chase, and you don’t want to become their next.

The next call comes and you throw that all to the wind. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you let your basket clatter to the leaves and you take off. You fly over roots and shrubbery and between the trees, your blood roaring in your ears faster. You’d oblige if you could.

Above the loudness of your frantic mind, the harrowing whinnies and The Hunt’s ruckus dulls until it’s faraway again, and then it’s gone. Well, you don’t stop to check if they’ve really passed through the forest. You just run.

“There you are, love.”

His voice cuts through your frantic escape and stops you dead in your path. You almost go crashing down over the ground with the force that you dig your heels into it. Though the voice is non-threatening, you don’t turn to face the source.

He speaks again. You already know who it is. He, old as the earth you stand on itself, leads that band of wild riders. Is the king of the undead, collects souls for reaping.

And he’s the one who’s plagued you with his attention. Death.

“Why do you keep your back turned to me?” he says. “I frighten you. That hurts.” His voice lilts with amusement and sharpness. “I wish that you would face me.”

You’re not fond of the way that he speaks to you with a familiarity. But then again, you’re not fond of dying, either. Your legs are boneless beneath you. Turning, you slowly indulge him, though it takes a great amount of willpower to not run again like your jittering jaw and trembling hands ask you to.

The King of Death stands tall and utterly preternatural, leaned against a crooked tree in the woods behind you. His smile cracks across his face in a jagged way that suggests he finds you amusing, but none of that meets his eyes. They’re the color of the greyish, rotted leaves beneath you. The dark shadows beneath his eyes are the only thing belying the weight that his infinite life might have on him. That, and the hollowness that rings from him.

And though he sounded entirely playful, you are shaken by the sorrow that you find in him now that you’ve turned. Even more so, you’re not sure why you feel it echoed somewhere in the hollows of your bones. “I’m sorry,” you say. It trembles terribly. You want to say that you’re sorry you caught his attention, but it seems you’ve always had his attention. It’s more that you are petrified down to your marrow that the time’s come that you face this… strange infatuation. Here he stands: the one who leaves hollowed out husks of creatures at your doorstep. Should you run or thank him? Is Death as prideful a creature as the other kinds that inhabit Aethera? “I don’t mean to…”

He pushes off his tree, fixing his cape that cascades over only one of his shoulders. It’s tattered and falling apart like the rest of his clothing, though you think that the bronze stitching and swirling oakleaf patterns in the black say that they might have been immaculate at some point. Or maybe they weren’t, and they had started that way. He is Death, anyway. “You’re sorry?” he says. “Why are you apologizing to me? You’ve hardly done a thing to warrant it.”

Faltering, you wet your chapped lips. You’re not really sure. Holding back another apology for fear that you’ve offended him and he’ll now strike you down for it, you say, “I thought that, maybe the hunt was…” Wow, you sound stupid. You can see in the sly smile his lips form that it amuses him. That’s almost worse than angering him: intriguing him. What you really should be doing is boring him so that he’ll find you a waste of his time. Then, maybe, he’d give up haunting you.

“After you?” he finishes. Shaking his head, he says, “My hunters only answer to me.”

“Oh,” you say plainly. Part of you wants to ask why that should comfort you, especially when you’re the one that he sends little bits of death to, but rationality keeps those words in the back of your throat. You don’t really want to know. “Why are you passing by here?”

Something akin to old longing passes through those witty eyes, and then he eats up the distance between you with languid steps of his long legs until he’s nothing more than one last step in front of you. The closeness consumes the air in your lungs, leaving nothing for you but short and shallow drags. The forest has gone dead silent aside from the sound of it. His voice is even more magnetic now that he’s so close.

You recoil when he brings a hand up to brush the pad of his thumb over your cheek and then cup your jaw, as if afraid that he might snuff you out here and now. His fingers are softer than you thought they might be, and the lines of his face sharpen into what you think is hurt. Hurt that you flinched?

“We go here and there,” he says, “but it’s been a very long time since we came here.” There’s a certain thickness to his words; a certain tension coiled over them from something that you’re not privy to. And yet, there’s a farawayness, too. You bet he’s full of a lifetime of secrets. Lifetimes of secrets. “But I think I’ve found myself a reason to finally return.”

Breathy and still struggling to flatten out your breathing, you ask him, “Why?”

The Undead King’s smile turns wicked once more, and he doesn’t answer you. It’s awfully eerie.

“Do you have… business here?” you try again. It’s a roundabout way of asking, do you have someone to take away?

“I have business wherever the living go,” he says, letting your face go but not giving you any more room. You narrow your eyes. He’s quite good at non-answers. “Nothing is more certain than that I will greet every living thing eventually. I’ll come to take you, too, when the time comes.”

Your mouth dries up. The entirety of your home, all the people you’ve ever known, fear you for all the death you bring. Not one of them fears it more than you do. You’ve seen it enough to fear its frightening finality.

The drop of your face must’ve told him how much that scared you. “Dying is not such an awful thing, love. Living pales in comparison.” Searching your eyes, he adds, “But I’ve not come to take you.”

That’s easy for him to say: that death isn’t something to fear. His words don’t calm your thundering heart, but you offer him a, “Thank you…” It trails off toward the end when you realize that you don’t have his name. If he has one, anyway.

“Yeonjun.” He tilts his head, strands of sparrow hair brushing over his watching eyes. “Most don’t know it, but you’re not most people, are you?”

Your breathing had just begun evening out. It’s a shame, the way that it kicks back up at the way he looks at you. “What do you mean?” you say, but of course you know. Nobody else is given dead things like you. It’s not like you yourself are very strange; you like pretty dresses and sharing gossip with friends just as much as any other girl your age.

Giving you another one of those knowing smiles that he uses just like words, he steps back. “I’m sorry that I scare you how I do.”

You don’t answer him. What could you say to that? That he doesn’t? That would be a lie, and he would know it.

Yeonjun’s eyes flit over your face, over your cheeks made pink by the autumn cold, lingering on your lips for a few unexplainable beats, and then landing on your eyes where he searches and finds something that sends his throat bobbing with a thick swallow. “I don’t mean to be your monster. It’s only that…” He steps back again. “You remind me a terrible amount of someone I once knew.”

“Who?” Though your shoulders relax a bit with some distance between the two of you, you do your best to not let your guard down. All the stories that you recall being told, all those cautionary tales passed down through word of mouth around a fire, end with some stupid girl thinking that the monster could be changed or tricked. You’re willing to bet that the man in front of you, no matter how human he looks or how enchanting his words are, could be neither.

That doesn’t explain the ache in your chest when he holds your eyes for too long. But you shove that feeling way, way down. It’s nonsensical.

His voice takes on a parting tilt when he says, “It doesn’t matter anymore. Death takes us all.” Yeonjun dips his head at you. His smile wavers. You’d think that crooked smile on his mouth was indelible had you not seen it twitch down at the corners only for a moment. If you’d have blinked, you’d have missed it. “You think I’ll hurt you,” he says, “well, don’t let me stop you. Go ahead, run. I apologize for your basket.”

Death takes us all. You’re not sure what that’s supposed to mean, coming from him, but it sends a cold wind up your spine and goosebumps crawling over your skin.

He watches you go. You don’t look back when you do, but his gaze sits on your back until you’re sure you’re out of his sight. When you return to your home, your mother asks where the basket full of ingredients for supper went.

You imagine what her face might look like if you told her the truth. But that was impossible, so instead you tell her some stupid story about a wolf that startled you so bad that you ran home paying no mind to where your basket was. It’s close enough to the truth.

༺ ꘏ ༻

It doesn’t matter what you do; you can’t get his face out of your head. While you cut butter into flour and then roll out dough, simmer fruits over flame and you slice cheese off blocks, you replay that meeting in the forest. The memory spins and turns over no matter how hard you try to put it away from your thoughts.

It’s not every day that somebody meets the likes of him. You can’t blame yourself; he had such captivating eyes. Dark, playful, and endless. There they are again. You sigh and dust your hands off. Maybe you are just as strange as they all think that you are. Morbid curiosity is like that, though. Taking the most normal of us and making you wonder what you absolutely should not wonder about.

And you absolutely should not wonder about him.

The sun has begun to hang high in the sky, but the breeze that crawls through the window you pulled open before you got to work is a crisp one. Autumn’s really come, now. Outside the window, a huddle of children play around in the leaves that you’d raked up. You’ll have to rake those back up, but you hardly have the heart to tell them to take their playing elsewhere. Their giggles and small voices waft in with the breeze, and a traitorous part of you yearns for a family that you know you’ll never have. No man would risk that fate, not after what happened to the last man who paid you any attention. You grit your teeth at the memory.

Having a face for the thing that’s made your life the way it is is strange. Seeing him in the flesh, with handsome eyes and a taunting mouth, looking something near human, you think you’ve come to resent him for it. How dare he ruin your life? He, more than anybody, should know how fleeting life is. What is in it for him to deface what little time you have? You keep going back to that thought: why did he ever even appear to you in that forest? There is not one story in which you remember Yeonjun showing his face to those he hasn’t come to claim. Death makes his visits swift and purposeful.

Moreover, why on earth would he even look your way? You wish there was a plain way to ask him why, or even to plead with him to stop. Whatever it is he’d ask of you, you think you might give him. To get back to living, you would.

A deep, familiar voice from behind you gives you pause. “Want some help with that?” Soobin says. He stands  in the doorway, his head nearly brushing the top of the frame. It’s made too small for him. Most things in your tiny village were made too small for Soobin. There had been a time where you’d been taller than him, that had hardly lasted long enough.

“As if,” you dismiss and gesture at his dirty hands. He’d no doubt been out working his family’s field, his tunic sleeves rolled up to his elbows.  “Cow shit isn’t an ingredient.”

Anybody else might’ve scoffed or taken offense, but he just laughs and invites himself in anyway. It never fazes Soobin. He doesn’t let you push him away.

It’d be better if he did. How long before he ends up dead, too? Alive one moment, and then a husk without a soul next. You don’t think you could handle seeing cold, dead eyes where the annoying, warm shine should be. Of course it would be better if he stayed away, if he had half the mind to. Even most of the children have heard enough from their mothers to stay a healthy distance. He’s not too much better than a child, though.

“Isn’t it?” he says. His cheek is smudged with whatever sort of dirt he’s got on his hands and under his nails. “I’m done with work for the day. Want to go out to the field?”

You two have always ran off and avoided your life in between willowy, flaxen wheat stocks. They were just tall enough at this time of year to hide you away. But, for some reason, your stomach does a quick flip at the thought of being outside. It’s silly; couldn’t he find you here, too? “I’m busy,” you say. You’d already kneaded this roll of dough plenty, but you dig your fingers into it and begin again.

“Busy?” he scoffs, “Since when are you too busy to get away from work?”

Gritting your teeth, you let the sounds of your kneading answer. Now, more than ever, he should keep his distance. You know one thing that you’re sure nobody else does: Death’s come to visit. 

His brows shoot up in your peripherals. “I don’t get answers today?”

“I’m sorry,” you say, giving up working the over-kneaded dough only because your arms ache. “Why don’t you go talk off the ear of some other poor village girl? I’ve heard as much as I can handle today. And then when that one’s tired, you can bother the next, I’m sure.”  You soften the words with a quick smile his way. No matter how many times you say something sour in hopes that it’ll send him away, as soon as you glance up at his face, you reel it in.

His company is all you’ve ever had. The least you can do for him is make sure he doesn’t end up like carrion, even if he chooses to take that risk himself. You don’t know why he does.

Voice playful, he says, “I’m glad to hear that you believe I’ve got ladies falling at my feet, but I’d rather not annoy a pretty girl, so you’re my only option.” He pokes at the sleeve of your simple cotton dress. “Should I drag you out of here? Don’t your arms hurt doing all that?”

“Oh, you are a refined man, aren’t you?” you say, shuffling out of his reach. Damn him, he makes it difficult. “Well, I am a pretty girl, so you should take yourself elsewhere.”

Soobin smiles easy. “I’m bored out of my mind. You’re just going to let me suffer?”

“That’s not my issue.”

“I’d argue that it is,” he says. “Come on. Why are you giving me a cold shoulder?” Leaning, he tries to get a look at your face. “Did I upset you? I wasn’t aware that you cared much about what I thought.” When you spare him a sharp glance, he says, “I think you are very, very beautiful. Would you stop ignoring me, now?”

You wish you could fall into the easy banter that comes with being around Soobin, but you can’t. You can’t let him be around you. “Soobin, stop it,” you say, draining your voice. You don’t look at him while you say it.

Going quiet, he seems to notice that today’s different. His gaze is heavy as he stares at you for a few long moments. Crossing his arms over his chest, he asks, “What happened?”

You swallow. “Nothing. I’m just doing something.”

“Oh, alright,” he says, tone inflicting in a way that says he doesn’t believe you one bit. He pushes off the counter. “I’ve put up with you pushing me away for years. You think I don’t know what you’re doing?”

“Soobin,” you warn. If you look at him, you fear you’ll be forced to watch the only one who never cared much what a risk it was being around you leaving. So you don’t.

Your friend raises his hands in the air defensively. “Okay, then.” He makes for the doorway with languid, lingering steps. As if he doesn’t want to leave. “Tomorrow..”

That’s both a threat and a promise, knowing him. Sighing and watching the rowan tree out your window sway, you bid him a curt goodbye.

If only that jerk took offense to things. It would make things an awful lot easier for you.

༺ ꘏ ༻

Being out in the wheat fields brings you peace when you’re alone, but you find it to be terribly lonely. The earthy, sweet scent of it wraps around you, and the stalks whisper against each other in a soothing way.

When you look beside you, the patch of wheat imprinted with the shape of your bodies is empty on his side. You are quite weak; it makes you want to go knocking at his door for his company. But that would be the selfish thing to do, so you card your fingers between the golden straw instead.

A chill trickles down your spine. You feel his presence before you even see him; it’s a feeling that you used to get fleetingly, as if something far away was tugging at you. But then he became real, a living thing in front of you that can touch, and that is much different.

“Why is it that I always find you out in the wilderness?” Yeonjun says. His voice comes from behind you.

Has he been watching you? You stand and dust your bottom off, heart kicking to life. “It’s nice out here,” you say. In truth, you haven’t come outside since that day. You’ve dodged Soobin and made a million excuses as to why you won’t go anywhere past the fences of your home. “I like to… watch people go about their days. It’s interesting.” It’s true—you always watch from afar how the village folk interact. How groups of girls your age link arms and whisper to each other, how neighbors come together to fix up a shoddy fence. You watch them be a community that you are not a part of. Watching it tastes bitter sometimes, but mostly you take pleasure in imagining yourself there with them. You’re not sure why you try making small talk with him, but what else? Should you go running again? If you were to listen to your pattering heart, maybe that’s what you’d do. He’s hardly shown you any bad will, though, and he’s the one that’s come to you. Maybe it’s silly to wait until something bad happens to be cautious.

A thousand pounds in stones sit at the center of your chest, though, and his voice makes them feel lighter. Why on earth that is, you’re not sure. It’s a nice relief regardless.

He smiles. It's different from the ones he showed you before. It’s knowing; more sweet than cracking over his face like the smile you would expect from the likes of him. What use might he have in being sweet? “Could I join you?”

Blinking dumbly at him for a second, you nod. “Oh, uh… Yeah.” Settling back down into your spot, you spare him a few curious sideways glances.

The breeze billows over the gold stems, moving them like gentle waves over the ocean and blowing your hair in it too. The flattened bits rustle under his weight. He doesn’t even turn his face toward the village; instantly, his gravitational eyes are on you.

“Do you come here often?”

“I do,” you answer. Mostly when you and Soobin have too much to do and not enough will to do it. “It’s nice. The village doesn’t like me much, so it’s easier out here.” You don’t mention that mostly you don’t come here alone.

Yeonjun’s face becomes far away. It looks strikingly like somebody forced into an old, unpleasant memory. “Don’t like you?” he asks, “What reason would they have for that?”

“They fear me. Things go wrong around me, that’s all.” You pluck at the hay absentmindedly. “Things die. They’re smart to stay away.”

The hay whispers much louder for the long moment he remains quiet, digesting what you’ve said. Maybe deciding what to say, considering that it’s his fault.

“Die?” he asks, voice inflected with surprise.

Turning to him, your brow creases. Shouldn’t he know? He’s the one that’s done it to you. “Everything that gets too close ends up dead. Everything,” you say, resting your temple on your knee. “So, I guess, I just keep it all at arm’s length.” You look back at your tiny village, a collection of familiar, un-familiar thatch-roof homes. 

Continuing to blink at you, his eyes narrowed in a strange grimace, Yeonjun says, “Death follows me, too.”

What? A laugh of disbelief bubbles up in your chest. Of course, death follows him. You cover your mouth with a hand to obscure your laugh, but you just giggle at him harder.

A laugh twitches at the corners of his mouth, too. “I mean it,” he says. The lines of his face become distant again, eyes both trained on your face and melancholic as if the sight reminds him of something.

It ignites a question in your mind about something he said in the forest. “You said that I reminded you of somebody,” you say, testing the waters. “Who?”

A muscle feathers in his jaw. He looks away, as if he can’t look at you while he says it. “I loved a girl from this village once. When I was human, no less than you.”

You falter, mouth falling open to ask all the questions that flurry through your thoughts. You settle on one. “You were human?”

“I was,” he says ruefully. “And I had everything. I had the love of my life. I think that even the most bitter of creatures on this island had envy for our love. She would braid dandelions into my hair, and then I’d braid them into hers.” He swallows thickly and pauses, as if the wound was still festering and fresh. “And then she died. She died starting our family. She died because of me, in my arms.”

You don’t know what to say, so you just look into his shining eyes as if that’ll help. You’re not very useful with people, much less comforting them.

“I couldn’t accept that. I wouldn’t. So I went where I shouldn’t have gone, and angered something much bigger than myself. They thought it would be a fitting punishment for me to live an eternity, the King of Death who could not bring back his dead lover.” The harrowed look that he gives you, only briefly, has your chest heavy all over again. “They have a sense of humor, the forces.”

You imagine what it would’ve been like for him to lose his lover in that way. How far he’d gone to try and have her back, but death does not give back. Where had he gone to have been turned into this? An immortal thing, forced to roam the world and scoop up the souls of the living for an eternity? To be bound in ancient bones and made to remember forever how you had lost your lover?

The grandness of what you want to say is too big, but all those words feel pitying and patronizing in a way that you don’t think will actually bring him any comfort. Rather, you doubt anything you say will be able to patch up a wound older than you could imagine. Simply, you offer him a raw, “I’m so sorry.”

Yeonjun lets a crooked smile replace the trembling at his lips. “As long as I live, so too will she,” he says, placing his palm over his heart. “Death doesn’t so much happen when we leave behind our bodies, but when we’ve left the minds of the living.” Narrowing his eyes at you, he brushes hair behind your ear with his knuckles. “I know she lives on, somewhere out there. Somewhere. I’ll find her.”

That intrigues you. “Is there some way that you could bring her back?”

The grim light in his eyes tells you his answer. “My curse is to take life,” he says, “not to give it. But the one who made me this, he is cruel in a twisted way. If I were to find her, as a human or an animal or a blade of grass in the forest, only then could I rest.”

It is cruel. “You’ve been searching, then,” you conclude. “When you find her, you’ll both be able to rest.” But how could he find her, if as he says, she could be any living thing? Where would he even begin?

Slowly, he shakes his head, throat bobbing. “Death needs a farrier.”

She would become what he is. You swallow thickly. Was it not him who caused the deaths that follow you? Or, at least, it was not on purpose?

Opening your mouth, you go to tell him that you’ll help him look. You’re sure you’ll be of no help. He’s spent an immortal lifetime searching, and he still hasn’t found his dead lover. Nobody would know better than him where to look.

The ground shakes beneath your palms with impact, and something cuts through the wheat. The noise of its bleating becomes nearer until the both of you scramble up to find out what’s in such distress.

A deer stumbles around wildly. It looks lame, but you don’t see anything wrong with its legs. Your throat tightens at the awful sound, piercing and sad. Frozen, you watch it try to stay upright before it finally collapses down, legs still kicking as though it still wants to run but its body has begun weakening on it. “Oh my god,” you say, stumbling back. The sounds; its sounds are awful, echoing in your bones and constricting your thoughts until they’re a pinched panic.

There’s an arrow lodged into its ribcage, deep and at a terrible angle. You already know that it’s pierced some vital organs, if not its heart. It continues to writhe on the ground, not ready to give up. You’re not sure if you should approach it—you don’t want to scare it, and you can tell by the look in its wet eyes that it already wants to be away from you.

Or, maybe it had come to you. How else had it found the two of you in the middle of this field?

Yeonjun’s already on it. He puts his knees into the dirt and dried wheat to kneel by it, running his hand over the beast's pelt in long strokes. The small buck flinches at first but relaxes once he learns that his touches are gentle, not the gnashing of hungry teeth ready to make him a meal.

Blood runs like lead through your veins. You say, “Can we help it?”

He shakes his head. “He’ll die.”

Whip-lashed, you swallow thickly. He says it so unphased, and you’re sure he is. You can hardly make yourself mirror that serenity that he exudes as he runs his hand over its flank, but you get on the ground beside him anyway.

The buck’s breaths slow to desperate drags for breath. For a few long minutes, the two of you sit in silence and stay with him until he no longer fights, until his breaths are ragged. You feel his side, still warm and alive, but you see the life going from his eyes. You sit here, talking to each other about nothing just so it hears gentle voices as it goes, for a while.

Eventually, he’s gone. Quiet and at peace, no longer hurting. This time, when you look over to Yeonjun who still smooths over the deer’s skin even as he goes, guiding him delicately into whatever greets us when we go, you see death as a gentle thing.

༺ ꘏ ༻

Though you never seek him out, Yeonjun always finds you. In hidden places, away from prying eyes, he appears behind you and makes himself known. Well, you have a feeling that he watches you for a while before saying anything. It’s hard not to feel the strange tingling of his gaze over your form. It’s akin to the sixth sense that’s supposed to keep you safe out in the dark hearts of forests, an innate feeling that tells you some beast with a rotten, pale maw watches you between the trees.

Yeonjun doesn’t feel rotten, though, preternatural and eerie as he is. As you shirk your duties and talk with him for hours, you stare into ancient eyes and watch his crooked mouth move around his words and you feel an odd comfort. As if he’s the only one who’s ever understood you, or maybe that your strangeness pales beside him and for once you’re nothing but who you are. So many nights, the sun fell on your talking until the night insects buzzed from the grasses and your eyes were heavy.

Sometimes, as you dozed off with your back to a hay bale or a hardwood wall of the abandoned home beside yours with its sagging thatched roof, you caught such festering longing in his his eyes that you’d let your lashes fall and pretend to sleep so that you could imagine what it was that he longed for. No doubt his lost lover. When you imagine him, bound in bones and coming back to haunt the living for an eternity as he mourns her infinitely, searching for her in impossible places, your chest aches with a gnawing intensity.

It’s a terrible, cursed existence. Even the nothingness of death becomes a paradise beside it.

“Is it scary?” you ask into the air, sat criss-crossed on the thick duvet of the bed. He sits across from you, looking perfectly lazy. Moonlight pools in like sterling mist through the shutters.

“What?” He watches you, sitting in your plain dress, as though you’re the only thing in the world.

You’ve begun to wonder. Wonder about those looks he gives you.

Shifting, you fix the shoulder of your soft chemise where it’s slipped down when you catch his eyes lingering on it. His throat bobs. “Dying,” you elaborate. “Is it really nothing? After we go, all of it was for nothing?”

A slow smile tugs his full lips, made a bit red in the middle where he likes to worry it. It’s such a human habit to see on something so far from human. “Hardly,” he says. “It’s like going home, right where your soul is supposed to be. Who do you think rides with me?”

Furrowing your brows, you tilt your head toward one shoulder and let your hair pool there. “The riders are dead?” You had thought they were undead in some way like Yeonjun, other sorts of revenants come back to life with their own purposes. Then, are their creepy horses dead, too? A chill goes down your arms. Sometimes, sitting here with him when his face is made soft by the orange glow of the fire he puts on, you forget what he is.

“They are.” He nods, leaned back onto his elbows, his eyes alight with a hunger that makes your insides feel funny. “It doesn’t stop once we’ve died. You don’t need to be scared, my love. So many things end, but then so many things begin. The earth no longer holds you down, the weight of being is gone. You don’t know anything like it; you don’t know leaving behind the pleasures of earth to know the ones that only the afterlife can show you.”

His eyes laced with something entirely else, he adds, “And it’s not the end. Not for everything. For some it’s only the beginning, and for others, those who have not yet fulfilled their purpose, they come back to the flesh. They return.”

You can’t tell if he means himself, or something else. The weight in his eyes, dark, endlessly swirling pools, makes you wonder again why it is that he’s lingering here: the place that he had not visited once since the death of his lover, for the fact that it still hurts too much. Why his shadow of death, his fault or not, was tangled in your soul enough to brush its fingers over the things around you.

“It’s scary,” you say, breathy. The thought of eternity.

Soft hairs brush over his eyes as he tilts his head at you. “Do I scare you?”

“No.”

“No?” he echos, pushing himself up so that he leans back onto his palms. “Isn’t that strange? Pretty little thing says she’s not afraid of death, but her heart races when I’m near. Her sweet heart jumps at just the brush of my leg. Are you sure you’re telling me the truth, love?”

Your blood roars in your veins, inflaming your cheeks and making your head dizzy. Nobody’s ever looked at you like that before. Hair prickles on your skin. “Yes,” you breathe.

Feral delight sparks in his eyes, black as pitch. His smile turns up all feline at the crooked corners. “Crawl to me, then.”

Like how fire licks up oxygen in any room it is in, his words steal the breath right from your lungs. What does he think you are? You blink at him wide-eyed and dumb for a moment.

How can he say that as though it were nothing? Moreover, how does the ravenous flare in his eyes, his head tilted back as he watches you down his nose expectantly, do that to your belly?

Your mind glazes over with something thick and heady, and you damn the nerves in your belly and begin to crawl from your end of the bed to his. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, making sure you feel every inch of the taunt in his eyes as he trains them on you. When you’ve gotten to him through the thickness in the air, you settle into his lap and bracket his waist with your thighs.

Yeonjun takes the soft fat of your hips in his fingers. “Fuck,” he says. It sounds like he’s barely holding the gates on something endlessly consuming. Something that might break loose on the two of you, and leave you changed forever with its hungry, gnashing teeth. His head hits your collarbone. “Tell me to stop. Please, tell me to go. Because I don’t know how.”

“Don’t,” you say. “Don’t stop. I want it, Yeonjun. I want this.”

He straightens, pupils blown and eyes as tense as his set jaw. “No, you don’t understand what you’re asking for. All I’ve ever done is ruin. All I’ll ever do is ruin. I won’t ruin you; not again.”

That rings bells somewhere outside the heavy fog that’s infiltrated your mind, but they don’t sound too alarming when he looks as though he wants to drag his teeth over your heart to taste its beating. It doesn’t touch the ground, when you want him to, so badly. So badly that you taste it on your tongue and it tinges your words as you tell him, “I do know what I’m asking for. I want you. Yeonjun. Don’t you want me too?” Voice and confidence wavering, you pull back. Maybe you’ve read this all wrong. A tickling shame crawls over your skull. “Do you not want me?”

“You think I don’t want you?” he says, straightening up and meeting your gaze. His breath is hot on your mouth. “I want you so fucking bad. You are in the marrow of my bones. Fuck, I have done nothing but want you, but I am foul. I will only hurt you.”

He takes your hand and places it over his chest, where a heart should be. Beneath your palm, you do not feel the thumping of an alive thing. Yeonjun has no heart. You knit your brows and examine the strain of his features. Does he think that you’ll be disgusted? Maybe the girl you were in that forest might’ve been, but being near Yeonjun has changed you in ways you couldn’t start to put your finger on. “I’m asking you to,” you say. “Show me what you want to do to me. What you’ve wanted to do to me.”

Searing silence burns between you as he drinks that in, and then he shoves you onto your back. Supporting himself with an arm beside your head, he curls his fingers into your hip and nudges your thighs wider. He doesn’t lift the hem of your chemise like you expect him to. No—Yeonjun begins to grind himself into your cunt through all the layers of your clothes. Though your dress is bunched up and his pants lay between any real contact, Yeonjun’s hard and that friction tastes fleetingly sweet.

“I want you to beg me for it,” he says, grinning down at you with cruel intention. “Beg me, and make it so pretty.”

You let little sounds linger in that back of your throat and become hungrier each time he grinds against you. It’s so much, mind swimming and sparks spraying up your spine, and yet each time it is not near enough. Damn that foxish smile on his face; you beg for him anyway. “Yeonjun,” you breathe, curling your fingers around the wrist of that hand with which he pins your hip. “P…lease, will you help me? It feels so good; I want more, please.”

He raises his eyebrows at you and an eager grind comes right over your throbbing clit. 

You know he wants more than that, but mortification already is making your voice unsteady and your cheeks burn. “Yeonjun,” you huff, hips wiggling.

The king of the undead delights fully in your shame and rewards you with more of those pointed, dry grinds. Your legs tremble; he’s giving you so little, and yet your need takes it and magnifies it into something grand.

Though he pretends he’s on some high ground, you hear his shuddering breaths each time his fucks his hips against you. He feels that roiling, liquid need in his belly just as vehemently as you do. The room fills with your breathy pants and grinding bodies. You catch your lip in your teeth and begin to meet him half-way. Your moans are low and sweet, and each one sends his jaw tighter. 

You twist and grind against each other like fumbling teens until you’re coiled up so tight that he has to pull himself away. Your throbbing cunt protests, but you know he doesn’t want you cumming like this.

“You want me to show you what I’ve wanted to do to you?” he says, working at his pants. His eyes are so drunk on you, and his cheeks betray his state. “Open your legs, my love. Let me show you a little death.”

Throat gone dry, you slowly let your thighs fall open. The dull throbbing between your thighs roars to life. He slides your skirt up your leg, stopping when he frees your knee to pepper a few hot kisses into it. Once he’s got it bunched up at your ribcage, he runs his tongue over his dry lips to wet them. “Fuck. Such a pretty pussy. I want to fucking eat you up.”

“Yeonjun,” you whine. His name is all you can muster out, anticipation sharpened to a knife point.

Flashing his teeth, he purrs, “You like that, you filthy thing. I bet you’d like for me to fuck you till your brain’s gone and all that’s left is my name. Isn’t that right? Is that what you want?”

Your thoughts stall and you nod, making your mouth into a filthy pout. God, how you want that. Maybe he’s right about you being filthy. Coming from him, it sounds like a delicious thing to be.

The pretty, leaking tip of his cock brushes your clit as he slides it up and down your slit to collect the mess there. Your thighs jump to close before your mind gets the better of it. He does this a few times—up and down, letting you feel and get used to the size and length of him all the way till his cockhead kisses your clit and you squeak.

“Are you comfortable, love?” he asks, shifting your hips with strong hands. “Do you need anything from me?”

It’s so at odds with his other, nastier words. Your head spins, the moonlight blurring. “I’m okay,” you tell him. “I… just want you. Want you to put it in, want to feel you.”

His cock catches on your hole, and he begins to push forward with promising pressure. But then he pulls back, smiling downturned. You whine; why can’t he save his capriciousness for later? You’d almost had it…

“I could give it to you, or I could not…” He hums. “Wouldn’t that be so cruel of me? To leave you wanting?”

You flutter around nothing. Every inch of your body buzzes. Alive. You are more alive now, at the promise of Death’s touch, than ever before. The irony might be something to wonder about if you weren’t dribbling down onto the bed sheets with crude need. “Stop it,” you say. Your voice is whiny. You’re glad you can hardly hear yourself past the pounding in your bloodstream.

That delights the King of Death. He wrinkles his nose at you, burning you alive with his eyes as he presses his palm to your belly and guides himself into you with his free hand. You wrap around each inch of him slowly. The air between you bows under the weight of your gazes; he holds your eyes the whole way, inch by inch until he’s seated fully into you with his groin flush to your body. He stretches you to fit, and yet it’s just right. You could ask for no more or no less; you might even think your body was made for him, were you not too busy circling your hips to feel him.

“Good?” he says, squeezing your hip. “Do you need a moment?”

Pursing your lips, you test out the shape of him with another wiggle. “Maybe… Maybe a second.” Truth be told, you need a moment to grapple with the sparks sprinkling over your mind more than you need a moment to adjust to his stretch. You let out a shuddering breath.

He traces circles into your belly, just beneath your navel. The pad of his thumb goes round and round, warm on your flesh. “As long as you need,” he says, but it’s more like a triumphant, playful coo. There’s that lopsided smirk. One day, you’d like to kiss it off him. Taking that hypnotizing finger, Yeonjun trails it up your stomach, over your ribcage. He hooks it beneath your dress and drags it higher, revealing the soft swells of your breasts to the air. You shudder, body so, so hot that your nipples peak and tighten against the cool air.

“Such pretty tits,” he says, brushing his knuckle up the underside of one. “Everything about you. Such a pretty, pretty body. God, I don’t know if I want to worship it or ruin it.” His breaths fan over your skin as he bends down and pops an eager nipple into his mouth, lavishing it before releasing it with a lewd pop and letting his mouth fall all over your breast. Lick here, nip there, until you’re squirming adequately and squeezing him like a virgin. Then he blows cool air over it and watches with eyes like a cat toying with its prey as you shudder harder, your chest jumping. “Fucking look at you,” he sneers.

“Junnie,” you say, lost for breath. You think you’ve walked yourself into the lion’s den.

His breathy laughs fall over your breast. Taking his teeth, he drags them over your skin, right over where your heart thunders a rhythm fully for him, and then he bites. Nothing more than a shallow mark, the shape of his teeth in your soft tit. He lingers there, admiring the sight before he straightens himself up again.

“Fine.” He pulls out of you slowly, but you know what comes after that, so you savor every second of it. “I suppose you’ve wanted after it long enough. Let me hear your sweet voice again, my love.”

Yeonjun fucks you just right. His cock nudges right up on your sweet spot as if he’s done this before. Like he knows where to find it. You gasp and whine—you’re just happy he’s finally giving you something. 

“Oh, fuck,” you mewl. His shoulders wear the red crescent marks of your nails. “That’s—so good right there.”

Ever egotistical and cocky, he croons, “Yeah?” Rolling himself back, he makes it his mission to hit it ruthlessly.

A sharp, pitchy sound comes tumbling past your lips. You bring your hand up over your mouth, letting your eyelids dust your burning cheeks so that you can brave the flipping in your spine and deep in your belly. It’s nearly insufferable—the way pleasure licks up your spine, how it spreads out into your veins and takes control of you.

“No,” Yeonjun growls. “Don’t you dare close your eyes. Let me see that look in your eyes when you cum.”

Your eyes are heavier than they’ve ever been, but you open them. The sight that greets you is worth the effort. Yeonjun’s lip twitches and then he throws his head back, the column of his neck on display as his Adam's apple jumps around a thick swallow.

If that sight wasn’t enough to send you teetering down into whatever depths of lust and ecstasy that he crawled out from, then the angle he hits as he pushes one of your thighs to your chest is. The world frays, deep tremors starting at one small point in your cunt and then exploding up through your stomach and down the back of your thighs. Your chest arches off the bed and you mewl helplessly, fighting and embracing your orgasm in an intoxicating death.

“Oh, fuck,” Yeonjun growls, strained with something whinier as he watches you shake beneath him. “Fuck. I’m gonna—fuck, I’m gonna cum…” His voice chokes as his hips become stuttered more than pointed, the slick sounds of your own release tangling up with his grunts and pants until he shudders and stills, cumming into your puffy, fluttering cunt.

You both catch your breaths as if there’s no air in the room left for a while. His hair’s damp on his forehead, as is yours on your neck, and his eyes droop lazily. More lazy and content than you’ve ever seen him.

Collecting you to his chest, where only your heart thumps away frantically, he presses his mouth to your ear and says, “Do you think death is so scary now?”

With your limbs nothing more than boneless and liquid pleasure floating slowly through your thoughts, you smile.

A little death can be more visceral than living, you think.

༺ ꘏ ༻

The tree stump beneath you makes your tailbone ache. You sit criss-crossed, watching Soobin work away at the soil and tend to that section of the fence that’s begun to rot and sag. Your mouth moves endlessly, filling the space that would otherwise just be made up of his grunts of hard work.

“You know, you ought to help me if you’re just going to sit and watch,” he says, straightening to swipe at his forehead, sweaty despite the cold in the air.

“Totally improper,” you say, smiling at him cheekily. “Are you saying that you can’t handle yourself, strong man?”

He glares at you with the venom only somebody made to put up with hours of chatter could muster. “What’s got you so talkative?” he says.

You know he means why you’re suddenly not glaring him away. You can’t tell him that you’ve spoken with Death himself, so instead you say, “Nothing.” Letting your legs dangle down, you smile at him.

Yeonjun hadn’t done any of it. It’s a comfort, to some degrees, to know that. It’s not your fault that they died. Being around them, being around Soobin, won’t make them turn up dead. The rest of them still don’t know that—and they wouldn’t believe it, anyway—but the black shadow hanging over your shoulders dissipates.

For the first time in so, so long, you do not feel marked by death.

“Sure.” His smile tilts. “A week ago, you wouldn’t even look at me.”

Rolling your eyes, you decide to give him a hard time. “Not true. You just have a way of getting on my nerves.”

“I take pride in that.”

“Take pride in what? Being insufferable?”

Crinkling his nose, he says, “Knowing how to bother you best.”

“Get back to work, stupid.” Your heart soars. It’s good to have friends. To let yourself have friends is an ever better thing. Is this how it is? To be with others and not feel like their burden, or like they’re crossing their fingers behind their back to ward off whatever bad things you might bring onto them? He’s made it his mission to hover around you no matter what, but this feels different.

Maybe, for so long, part of it has been your own gloom that’s obscured it all. Maybe if you didn’t bare your teeth to anybody who got too close, it could’ve been like this always. You hate to think that your own isolation could be some part your own fault. But how were you not to show your teeth when someone tried to reach their hand out to you?

It doesn’t matter now. You shove that all down and let yourself feel the slight warmth of the sun’s glow on your skin where it peeks through the clouds. It’s a nice day, you shouldn’t ruin it with those thoughts.

The sun’s begun making its descent when Soobin’s done. He takes a long drink of water, hissing with relief and crumpling down to the ground with his back to your stump.

“Are you making any way with that girl you were talking to me about?” you prompt.

Giving you a long look over his shoulder, he says, “Don’t.”

“What?” You laugh a little, raising your brows down at him. “I’m not doing anything.”

“You know what you’re doing,” he says, voice flat as he picks stickers out of his fingers.

Soobin’s had a thousand different crushes. There was that daughter of the shepherd, and then the wealthy merchant’s daughter and her long pretty hair, and then the neighbor… Well, you could go on. None of them ever really came to fruition for the poor guy. He thinks that it’s because he’s a poor farmer’s son, but you always tell him that it’s because he’s got an insistent mouth, and that he should be more grateful that you deal with him. Your lips turn up at the corners a little thinking about it—he’ll find the one eventually, but you like the indignant look on his face when you say it.

“I mean it!” you say, nudging him with your leg. “Tell me. I want to know.”

“You won’t even tell me what’s happening with you. Until one of us quits keeping secrets,” he says, placing accusation heavy over the words, “I’ll keep my dealings to myself. What’s it to you, anyway?”

Feeling the weight of his head as he lets it loll lazily against your thigh, you decide that it couldn’t hurt to tell him. The itch to tell somebody crawls under your skin. Especially to tell him. “You know the other day? When I was… being awful?”

His body shakes with a vindicated laugh. “If you’re nothing else, at least you’re self-aware.”

You skirt around that with your own, more awkward, laugh. It’s nice that he thinks so, but you don’t feel it. “Stop,” you huff and nudge him again. “I was foraging out where I usually go. But I guess I wandered out farther than I thought I did. You remember when they used to tell us stories, right? Like the bogeyman. That he’d come snatch us up if we didn’t listen.” Your mom especially had loved that one, back when she cared what became of you. Would she care again, if you told her that everything was fine? “Well, I don’t know if you remember the one about The Wild Hunt, but… Anyway, I was picking some stuff, and…”

Sitting up from his exhausted slouch, Soobin looks like he’s suddenly come back to life. “What?” he interrupts. His voice is strangely serious.

“What?” you say, brow creasing. “They travel here and there… but they were here. In the woods. Like, I heard them.”

Tersely, he asks, “What were you doing that deep in the woods?”

“I mean, I just kept on finding nice stuff until I just… was deeper.” You survey him. You hadn’t thought that he’d react like this. “So I ran, and then there was this guy,” you say, watching realization fall over his face. He knew those stories as much as you do—knew where you were going with this. He is as starkly superstitious as the rest of your people, you forgot. Pushing past the grimace on his face, you say, “And I knew that he was the king. The one from the stories. It was so weird; it’s like you can feel it. And I spoke to him, and then…”

Stood up now, he cuts you off once more. “Are you kidding?”

“Why are you being like that?” you say, messing with your skirts to quell the defensive bite in your tone. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You didn’t do anything? Are you trying to get killed?” He throws up his hard-working hands. “We have rules for a reason. Don’t go out into the forest, don’t make deals with faeries, don’t follow a banshee scream. And then you go and talk to the king of death? How am I not supposed to be upset about that? You know that…” Soobin blinks a few times as if second-guessing what he’s about to say, but he says it anyway. “You know that he’s the reason that they treat you how they do. You know that he’s the one who ruined your life. Why would you ever mess with that?”

You push yourself up from the ground, eyes burning. That stings like a cut. “He didn’t do it. None of it is his fault,” you say, furrowing your brows. “What are you trying to say, Soobin? Just say what you want to say. Come on.”

“He didn’t do anything?” He scoffs, letting a heavy silence hang suspended in the air for a moment before saying, “Is that what he told you? And you just believed it? Listen to yourself, does that make any sense? He’s played with your life like it’s some fucking toy, and now he’s come to rub it in your face. Think about it: do animals just fly into anybody else’s windows and die? Do the trees that they pick from just end up dead? It’s his fault that they all treat you the way you do.”

Mouth opening and closing, you don’t know what to say. 

He sees the hurt in your burning eyes and tries to reel it back in. “What I’m trying to say is—”

“I know what you’re saying,” you say, grabbing up the lunch you’ve been nibbling on. “I know exactly what you’re saying. I just never thought you’d say it out loud.”

“Say what?” Soobin says, his voice raising behind you as you storm off.

That you think it’s my fault, you want to say. That they all die because I am a plague, and you are a charity worker for being my friend. Instead, you just leave and try to choke down the tightness in your throat.

༺ ꘏ ༻

You curl your arms around yourself, the night biting cold. Yeonjun had dragged you from bed, and who knows what hour of the night it is? If the heaviness beneath your eyes is to judge it by, it’s far too deep in the dead of night to be outside with your boots half-laced and nothing but your sleep chemise on.

You might’ve just stayed wrapped up in your blankets if you weren’t so lonely as you’ve been. Soobin’s been scarce. The most you see of him is in the fields from morning to afternoons. You hope that he’ll stop by your doorstep and knock so that you can groan about it but swing the door open anyway each time, but he doesn’t. He thinks that you won’t want to see him, and so he allows you your space.

That couldn’t be further from the truth. It’s hard to be the one to come back after a conversation like that, though. You watch him from the windows and hope he understands at some point instead. It’s an awful lot easier.

Other than preparing meals and window watching, you’ve been up to nothing much at all. You hadn’t realized how much you had, but you feel him in his absence. 

“It’s cold…” you say. The fog of breath that punctuates it makes your point. Whatever he’s brought you out here for, you have no doubt it’ll be something strange. The grin on his face tells you as much.

Leading the way, he heads for the Darkwood. “Only you would come rushing out without a cloak for your shoulders.”

“Well, only you would drag me from my nice, warm bed at this time of night. For what?”

“Can’t anything be a surprise with you?” he says, shooting you a cheeky glance over his shoulder. “Surprises are fun.”

“Surprises!” you say, working your legs to catch him. “Not surprises that involve you bringing me out into the woods. You know, it’s awfully suspicious. Somebody who sees this might think that I am the type to… sneak out with men.”

“Aren’t you now?”

Your lips tug down. “You know what I mean.”

He laughs in his airy way, a twig snapping under his foot. You’re well in the woods, now. Probably somewhere near where you’d first met him.

Lifting a brow, you look at him expectantly. Maybe a will-o’-the-wisp will come floating through with its light bouncing off the trees. That would be a nice surprise, you admit.

Yeonjun circles you. His presence behind you tingles in the way it always does, but true chills erupt when his breath puffs against your ear. “Close your eyes. I have something I want to show you.”

Your mind wanders back to what Soobin had gotten so twisted up about. It might be naive and reckless and against everything you ever learned, but you let your eyes fall shut to blackness. If he was going to hurt you, you imagine he’d have had that opportunity a mind-numbing amount of times before.

“Are they shut?” he asks, waiting for your nod. His voice comes from in front of you now. “I want you to keep them shut. You can’t open your eyes, or it will all go away. Okay?”

“Okay,” you breathe, mind full of a bounty of questions. You don’t even know where to begin to assume what he’s got going on, so you stand there shifting your antsy feet.

There’s a strange, rustling sound that catches you off guard with your eyes closed. It drags on for a long moment. Curiosity pries at your eyes; you want nothing more than to just crack an eye open to spy the source of the ruckus. 

It’ll be gone if you do, anyway.

You let out a surprised squeak as something rises up beneath you, as if risen from nothing more than the dirt and roots of the forest floor, bringing you up from the earth. You wobble and send your hands out to find a perch.

A horse. It’s a horse, its mane so tangled and windswept, but matted and clumped with leaves that crunch under your palm when you find them. It reeks of mud—everything around you begins to smell of earth and decomposition.

You know that if you open your eyes, you’ll find yourself sat upon the pale white steed of the Undead King, its eyes white and its knobby knees almost as famous as the leader of The Hunt himself. It chuffs beneath you.

“Are you ready?” Yeonjun says over your shoulder. You can hear the feral grin in his voice. It’s the leader of The Hunt, a creature of folklore, that sits behind you now. He curls an arm around your waist and tugs you closer to him, securing you against the wall of his chest. “Hold on tight, my love.”

The call of the wild, that horn, bellows again like it had the first time you heard it. Rather than coming from nearby as you thought it would, it dances between trees far off just like it had that time, too. Your heart jumps up into your throat.

Taking off with a howl, the Wild Hunt follows it.

You dig your fingers into Yeonjun’s at your waist. Weight melts away, and you know you’re in the air. Your belly swoops in tandem with the howls and hoots of the riders, heart palpitating to the hoofbeats. How there’s hoofbeats as you ride through the air, you’re not sure. The ghostly fleet manifests around you in vivid imagery, though you squeeze your eyes shut. They are wild enough to imagine just what they might look like: with their clothes and flesh in tatters, with their eyes beady or pale, with their hounds piercing the air with their calls and running alongside them, they are a perfect personification of freedom.

Whip-lash sends you reeling, body going rigid. You grit your teeth and squeeze your eyes harder, wishing that you’ll touch ground soon and that everything would become real again.

Yeonjun feels you go stiff. Bringing his head back to your shoulder from his own delight, he says, “It’s okay. You’re okay. Let it into your bones. Do you think I would let it hurt you?”

He is their leader. If it got too much, you know Yeonjun would be there to catch you. Curling your fingers into his, you release that tension and allow their drumbeat to echo through you.

And when it does, your blood begins to sing along. The wind whips your cheeks and your hair, and you begin to laugh with them. The Hunt twists and turns and dances through the air, an apparition in the night, but nothing more than that.

It comes to a slow, eventually, until the noise and even your steed crumbles back down into the dirt it appeared from. Your eyes pop open hoping to catch at least a glimpse of them, but only the dark forest and pale moonlight answer. Your legs threaten to give out on you, veins still thrumming, but, oh, do you feel alive.

You feel more alive than you ever have, more than you ever could have hoped to have known. Mind spinning, you stumble. Yeonjun catches and steadies you before you can go scraping your knees on a rock.

“Oh my fucking god,” you say.

The laugh that Yeonjun breaks into has you sending him a glare, but you break too. Everything about him is ironic; and how ironic indeed that Death himself should show you how to be alive, rather than to just live?

༺ ꘏ ༻

The air is so fresh in your lungs when you step outside that it nearly burns. You clutch your basket of warm fig tarts. Songbirds trill and fly between tree tops that slowly become more bare the deeper you fall into the season, singing their sweet songs that sound like new beginnings.

Raising your hem from the ground churned up into mud from the afternoon’s trickle, you prance into town with a lively pep in your step. You spent all last night making these—Yeonjun had kept you company, watching you how he always does as you pored over making them just right. His cruel snicker when the jam had simmered over flame for too long and became too thick bounces off your bones in a sweet melody. You’ve come to adore his wicked delight, the way his smile cracks over his face and the facetious raise of his brows, more than you fear it.

Sending small smiles to the people that you pass, you stop by a huddle of kids digging sticks into the mud. They look up at you with curious eyes, stopping to gawk.

“Hey, guys,” you say, pulling back the cloth laid over the sweets. “I’ve made some fig tarts. Do you like fig? I bet you’ll like them; they’re sweet.”

The kids stand up, eyes big as they share a look. They don’t let out so much as a peep before they scurry off home.

You blink. Well, you’re used to weird reactions, but that was… different. Picking up your deflated shoulders and hesitant limbs, you make a shoddy attempt at not letting it dampen your good morning. You were expecting wary looks, anyway.

You head down a little further toward the far side of your home village, the side that breaks off after a fenceline into a great, grassy field. There’s a bustle, mothers washing their clothes in pails and hanging them up to dry and a few others whispering at each other lowly as they go about their days.

An old woman so old her back curves and her fingers have gone knobby makes her way to wherever the day’s duty demands her to be. Your neighbor—an eccentric old lady bound in her times. You decide on her: the elderly are forgotten by the young. She might enjoy knowing that her neighbors still know she exists.

“Hello,” you say, showing her your basket with a hopeful, excited heart. “I have some treats that I was wanting to give out. I know they might not be much, but would you like one? I’m not the best baker, but I do it often enough.” A face like that, dragged down by her years on this earth and not long to death, has no doubt spent many years making meals for her family. You imagine your goods would be nothing beside hers, but it’s the gesture, no?

“Oh, girl,” she says, voice crackling as she clutches her shawl tighter around her shoulders. “I’m afraid it’s best if you found yourself missing from this place. Hurry yourself up and spare the drama.”

The incessant cawing of a crow from a clawed tree fades into the background as you furrow your brows and lower your basket to ask, “...Huh?” Your belly goes up in knots; terrible knots done up tight and fast. You haven’t got a clue what she’s talking about. Elders always did speak a bit strange, though. It could be nothing much; she’s a stern old lady.

But her eyes are not angry and glaring in the way that a harrowed old hag might turn her nose up at the youth. They drag down with a cold pity.

“Listen to me, girl.” She points at you with one of those worn, sun-spotted hands. “You had best leave. The boy’s gone, and they are already not fond of you. Who will they point their fingers to?” the woman says. “I hardly know you, but I would hate to see it.”

The rest of her words fade into the roaring in your ears, the feral drumbeat of your heart like a wardrum in the cage of your ribs as it beats against them as if to escape from you. You don’t feel the basket in your hands, don’t feel the solidity of the earth beneath your feet, and don’t feel a single one of your thoughts like tangible things. They flit as if liquidated into a rotten, sick mush.

Nothing. You can think of nothing. Nothing real; nothing holding you to the earth.

“What?” Your voice hardly reaches your ears, but what does is weak and broken and like a plea for her to tell you that it’s not really what you think it is.

And if you could see or hear anything beyond your fraying little rift in reality, you would’ve heard the man coming up to you. You would’ve heard the words coming from his angry, sneering mouth, and would’ve done something when he picked up a pail of water, and you would’ve been shaken by the nasty ice water that runs down your frozen body and plasters your hair and clothes down as he pours it over you. But none of it cuts through your stupor.

He yells some awful, stabbing things at you, and a few others join him. They tell you that you are nothing but a plague, tell you to leave and to not come back here.

But this is your home. Where else would you go?

With your sopping wet dress clutched in your shaking fists as though that might keep you grounded, you choke down the tightening of your throat and sift through their faces, searching for his face. Those brown eyes, brown and always shining with nagging playfulness, do not come up anywhere. Jaw trembling, you search harder. Out on the field where he should be at this time of day, at your doorstep demanding that you go spend the day doing nothing with him, in someone’s yard helping them fix up a broken fence, no matter where you look, neither his broad silhouette nor his cheeky, dimpled face is there. You continue to stand stricken dumb, looking for him even though you know by the churning in your belly that it’s true, and you’re just hurting yourself trying to find him right where he should be.

Fine. Alive. Untouched by your disgusting, destructive presence.

When you can no longer fight the strangling tightness in your lungs and your dress is as heavy as your heart, you take off. The hem of your dress drags in mud and sticker bushes and catches on stray twigs, and you don’t know where you’re going, but you just run. You’ll give them what they want. 

You stumble, probably like some lost, undead thing, until you find yourself at the edge of the forest. Only then do you let the wall of whittle-edged tears roll down your face. And you assume you sound like a choking, dying animal with how you choke and heave on them, but he was the one you might’ve dropped your head and cried to, so what’s the use of making it pretty? No; you let it all fall as it is.

Soobin’s dead. Soobin’s dead, and it’s nobody else’s but your own fault. You clutch your chest to staunch that old ache that’s grown teeth and tears at your heart; you have and will always be the end of everything that comes near. You are just as much the plague that you began to pretend, to believe, you weren’t. It was your stupid hope that maybe you could have something and not watch it become carrion that drove that pick. It was by your hope that he’s gone.

The hair on your arms begins to raise. You pick your head up and find Yeonjun standing in front of you.

There’s a few beats of long, dreadful quiet as he takes in the state of you. He drags his eyes down and they become liquid flame—something different from the impious delight that he is made of. He becomes the King of Death.

“What happened?” he says. The chills on your arms prickle furiously at the words, furling out distant and yet furious like the center of the fire.

You shake your head, wiping your soaked cheek.

“What the fuck happened?” he growls again, taking your face into his hand. “Who did this? Who did this to you, my love? I need you to tell me who the fuck did this to you.”

Letting the venom in your mouth out, you shove his chest and say, “Get away from me. Don’t fucking touch me.”

Yeonjun’s face twists up, looking scalded. Not surprised, though. “Don’t do this,” he says. “Let me hold you while it hurts. Don’t push me away. I can’t… I won’t lose you again.”

All the pieces that you had been putting into the corners of your mind snap together at that. As many suspicions as you had, though, it feels sour hearing it confirmed from his mouth. That you are his dead past lover, reincarnated or whatever you are. That it was his presence—because even though he stayed away for centuries, a part of him still lingered with you—that now has torn down everything you ever thought you could love. He, standing there in front of you like a kicked puppy, is the ruination of your life in the flesh. The flipping of your stomach is nauseating.

“I hate you,” you spit. “I hate you so much.” You repeat it a few more times, and you sob it into his chest as he takes you into his arms. “Is this what you wanted? You’ve been waiting for this forever, haven’t you? To find me again, so that you can die and fucking leave me here. So that you can make me exactly what you are, while you get your peace. You are a liar and a thief. All you’ve ever done is steal and take. How could you do it? Huh? Tell me…” Your voice trembles and staggers off. “Tell me how you made love to me, how you made me believe that you loved me, and all you ever wanted was to save yourself? You betrayed me.”

Pulling back, Yeonjun says, “No.”

“Yes,” you say, stumbling back away from him with a shaking, accusatory finger pointed at him. “Yes you did.”

Fingers itching to reach out to you, he holds them back by curling them into fists. “No. That’s not fair. I have spent an eternity loving you. I spent the entirety of my immortal, monstrous life searching for you, just so that I might find you in any form. I would have been glad to find you as a leaf in a tree, as long as I found you. But, then, I find you alive. Alive and back, as if… it never happened.” He steps toward you, aching to be near you. His voice wavers. “Please, don’t do this to me, love. Please, just let me have you again. I’ve waited… I’ve waited and I’ve waited, and I finally have you, and now you’re looking at me like I… Like I’d ever hurt you. Finding death—finally getting to die would be worth nothing if you weren’t there with me. It was never about that.”

“I could never love you,” you say, matching his steps forward with steps away from him. “I could never love a monster that does… Does nothing but kill. Take.”  You know your words are cruel, but you need them to be. You need him to hurt, you need him to go so far away from you that never again will you cause another living thing’s death. 

“You did.” Yeonjun’s mouth cracks into a pained smile, sharp at the corners. “You loved me just as much as I love you, once.”

“Just leave me. Leave me, and I wish to never see you again. If you love me, then you’ll give me that.” 

He looks at you, clever eyes intense and glassy, for a long time. And then he says, “Would that make you happy? Would it make it so that you could live a happy life, and find yourself something to live for?”

What’s left for you? A small village that won’t ever embrace you? No, it wouldn’t fix your life. But you open your mouth and tell him, “Yes.”

“Okay,” he says, brushing his knuckles over your cheeks reverently. He swallows in your features, running over them for what he knows is the last time he’ll be seeing you—the very last time he’ll see the face of his undying love. When he finally opens his mouth again, his voice is gentle. “I’ll leave you. If my being here hurts you, then I won’t be selfish. I love you, darling.”

Don’t go, you want to tell him. Please don’t leave. Please, hold me. But your mouth is dry, and you let the radiant hurt in your chest stop you. You let him go.

༺ ꘏ ༻

There’s only one place you can think of going to. It’s the only place your vagrant feet take you.

His spot still is held sacred by the flattened, gold wheat stalks. Your best friend, still living here on Earth in at least one way even if he’s not here to listen to your stupid rambling. And he would maybe complain, but he’d always listen.

The last thing you’d done was fight with him. What an awful thing—what an awful way to repay him for being the only one who ever dared to get close.

You sit in your spot, beside his, and rest your chin on your knees. If only the ground beneath you would open up and swallow you whole. You’d deserve it.

What’s left for you? Is there a place in the world that would keep you happily once they see what you do? No. There is not. You wish you knew what to do; you wish you had somebody to ask.

Releasing a long, tight breath, you just sit and wait for something to give you answers. A gentle breeze makes your hair dance, but it does not whisper anything to your ears. Something’s circling over head, but it doesn’t caw in the cadence of his laughter.

The day moves along without you. You’re not sure how long you sit, but it stretches somewhere between a few minutes and eternity. No matter how long you wait, there are no answers. No matter how long you mull over it.

Conceding, you begin to push yourself up from the ground. A rustle in between the foliage stops you before you stand.

A tawny hare leaps out in front of you. It sniffs around you, nose twitching. Then it stands back on its haunches. It stares straight at you, an intelligent light in its eyes that knits your brows. The wild thing stands there with a purpose that is uncharacteristic of a forest animal.

But entirely familiar in the face of your best friend. That shine in its eyes as it stands there, nose still twitching, makes your chest tighten up.

“Hey,” you say, as if it might answer you. Your eyes well up with hot tears again. Of course, it doesn’t. 

Maybe you’ve gone mad, but you know that it’s him. That idiot, coming to show you that he’s okay in the afterlife—to visit one last time and to let you know that you shouldn’t worry for him or cry for him. Look at me, full of life once again, he seems to say. The hare blinks its beady eyes. It lingers there for a long time, the ease of peace found in his gaze that Soobin hadn’t had in this life, saying that there is still something waiting out there for us once we go. You reach out a hand. He does not flinch as you scratch behind his ear.

“Okay,” you whisper. “I’m glad to know you’re alright. I know what I need to do, now.”

He blinks.

You laugh a hoarse, breathy laugh, familiar in only the way that Soobin could achieve. “You look stupid.”

Indignantly, the hare stomps a bratty foot in a way reminiscent of one of Soobin’s huffs before it settles back down onto its forelegs and scurries off. He goes to live out this new form of life, because it’s true: life does not end in death. He’s shown you that.

Maybe, like this, he’ll find that pretty lady that loves him the way he deserves. That loser.

༺ ꘏ ༻

You spend only one night in your home and you know that what you’ve chosen is right. After spending your day out in the field, you sneak under night’s cover into your husk of a room and let yourself sleep there under the covers one last time. When morning breaks through the window, you gather your weary bones up and leave. 

You run into your mother on the way out. She doesn’t yell at you to leave, but her eyes have gone cold. Colder than you’re used to. You’ve killed again, in every way that counts. So you don’t bother with bidding her or any of them any grand goodbyes. You couldn’t handle the relief you might find falling over them, should you.

Plopping down to the floor, you take a few bites of the cheese and bread lathered in sweet jam that you’d swiped from the kitchen. The grass is long and willows in the wind, bending and dancing prettily. It’s so soft; you enjoy the feeling of it beneath your fingers in your quiet serenity. The scent of it, fresh over the baseness of dirt, you breathe into your lungs.

It would be the loveliest place to spend the rest of eternity.

For the first time, Yeonjun appears in front of you rather than behind you. He materializes from nothing, his elbow on his knee as casual as if he’d been sat there the whole time. The darkness beneath his eyes seems heavier, but then again you know that exact heaviness. It sits right in the very center of you.

You both are quiet for a bit. You let the tall grass whisper, instead.

“Bread?” you say and slant your lips into a smile. Bringing it up, you offer it to him.

His smile wrinkles his nose and curls at the edges. Entirely him. Yeonjun accepts the bread, ripping a bite out before throwing it away into the sea of green. Once he’s chewed, he leans in and captures your lips in a kiss that’s utterly at odds with his sharp mouth. Your lips move over each other gently, save for an indulgent nip or bite here and there.

He pushes you back into a bed of sweetgrass, never letting your lips go. Not to breathe, not to say something that’ll pale in comparison to the sweetness of your mouths on one another. He kisses you until he’s had enough to fulfill a lifetime without it, and then some more.

“My love,” he whispers into your skin, his breath hot on your collarbone. “Mine,” he says, pressing a kiss into the column of your neck, and then he says it again with a hot kiss to the place where your dress suggests your breasts. He says it a handful more times as he pushes your skirts up your thighs. “My love forever. I waited for you so long, and I would do it again.” Lowering his voice to a honeyed whisper, he adds, “I would find you no matter what.”

Laughing softly, you run your fingers through his raven hair to better see his eyes. You know he would.

Gently giving you one more of his lingering kisses that make your skin tingle, right into your bare shoulder, he presses into you. You loose a soft breath, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. The beating in your chest slows to a content purr as he begins languid thrusts in and out of you, rolling pointedly and unhurried.

Yeonjun makes love to you in a thousand dusted kisses and sweet words, your hands holding each other’s soft edges. Yeonjun traces the lines of you, taking the pads of his thumb down your cheeks and your lips and then his hand over the swell of your breasts and down your belly and over your thighs. Clamping down on him as your belly grows tight in the way it had the first time you had done this, your thighs begin to shake.

 Breathlessly, as you hurdle over the edge, all that you can say is, “I love you, ‘Junnie.” 

Yeonjun smiles at you and then presses his face into your neck. He doesn’t even brace himself against the grass to chase his own peak. Neither of you want this to end; you want to hold on to this moment and let it span forever. Slowly, Yeonjun rolls up into you until his hips finally stutter and he cums into you, his cheeks pink. The weight of him above you as he shakes with your shared ecstasy, and even as you both have come down and are nothing but lazy, is the only thing in this world. He is the only thing in this world.

Once you’ve both evened your breathing out, you roll apart and face each other, still just two forms bending the grass into your shapes. Blinking slowly and digesting his features one at a time—the angle of his eyes, softened but never tamed, the line of his nose, the line of his mouth always so proud and playful, and that pretty dot below his left eye—you let them solidify fully in your mind.

“Yeonjun,” you say, finally meeting his eyes across from you. “I want to go. I’m ready.”

The gentle, knowing look that he gives you soothes over the way your heart begins to race in your chest in rebellion. “I know,” he says.

Of course he had known. Yeonjun had been called here to ferry you into the afterlife. He had known the moment he appeared in front of you that his last soul to reap would be you; an ironic circle of karma that should be cruel, but you two make it something sweet. Chewing on your lip, you will your hands to not shake as you curl toward him. You’re no longer scared of going. You know that if you’ll be with him, it will be okay. It won’t be so scary. A hot tear rolls down your temple and then drops into your hair. “Will you be with me? I won’t be there alone?”

He tucks some hair behind your ear reverently and then leaves his hand there. “I don’t know,” he answers. “But I won’t leave you. I’ll stay right here with you.”

You lay there for a long time. Chatting and giggling and just looking into each other's eyes, until your heart becomes slow and all you feel is the wind singing in your blood. Yeonjun presses one final kiss to your forehead.

Maybe, in some years, somebody might dig up your bones and find you immortalized like this in your love. Your bones bowing toward each other, as if even death were not enough to stop you from reaching for each other. Or maybe they’ll just find yours, and Yeonjun still curling into them how you know he will for an eternity more.

Either way, the going is still slow and gentle, as death always is.

🪶 ⦂ tears. omfg i cried writing this which could totally be me being a bitch baby but it DAMN. omfg.

rꫀׁׅܻblogs & asks arꫀׁׅܻ always apprꫀׁׅܻciatꫀׁׅܻd!

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[shy-nightmare]

Send to 10 other bloggers you think are wonderful. Keep this going to make someone smile! Add a heart so we know how long the chain's been going! ❤️🖤💖🤍💚💛💗💙🩶🩵🤍🤎💟💜❣️❤️‍🩹💝🫀💖♥️💘❤️‍🔥💕🩶💜💛🫶💕💖💖💓💞🩷💚🧡💕💙💜🩶❣️❦💑🥰🏩😻❣️🫀🧡♥︎🧡💚🫀💌🩵

I know i haven't been great with replying back to you. It is unfortunately still a tough time on my end 😔😅 but I promise you, I see all of it and I'm so grateful you like me as much as you do 💖💖💖 you're an awesome person and I wish you so much motivation to keep being as creative and positive as you are! ^^

First of all, hi @marinerainbow! 😁😊👋

Second of all, it's OK! 🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂🫂 I know things are tough right now, and I understand 😊. Take all the time you need and get lots of rest, it's OK 🫂🫂🫂 I'm just happy you're able to see the stuff I tag you in when you have the chance! 😁

Third of all, OH MY GOD!!! YOU CHOSE ME AGAIN?!?!?!?!?!?! 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! 😭😭😭😭😭

You are so sweet and kind, it's shining bright in my eyes!!!

Thank you so much, but why??? 🥺 All I did was hop into your inbox and make you smile with my silly nonsense 🤣🤣🤣. I can only imagine how busy you are, that's why I'm practicing posting only ONE chapter a month. For you, @slashingdisneypasta and everyone else who's interested in my story 😊.

If anything, I should be grateful that YOU like me and think I'm awesome! You, Slashing and Just-Kit-Ink are practically my idols! 😁😁😁 You have been so unbelievably nice to me, I HAVE to repay your generosity in any way I can.

I wish you so much luck, love, and positively in your life! ^^ 💖💖💖

[onlyjaeyun]

hi my sweetest baby angel love🥹💓🌷 your replies to my asks made MY day even better and just reading those sweet words from you made me blush and kick my feet just like hoonie when jaeyun told him that yn was wearing the ring🤭

pls this new side of hoon is so so cute and the convo between him and yunie made me smile the entire time like they are the cutest platonic soulmate besties ever🥹🫶🏻 jaeyun is so fucking hilarious too like his comedic timing will never fail to make me laugh

also it’s not an onlyjaeyun fic if something major doesn’t happen at someone’s bday so i’m sooo ready to read what happens at won’s party👀👀 i need hoonyn to talk it out and heal not only theirs but also our broken hearts❤️‍🩹

omg a little update on the guy i’ve been spending time with, we had a little getaway with our friends a couple days ago and he was so sweet throughout our little holiday🥺 whenever we would go out to eat or something he always had his hand on my thigh and put food on my plate and also give me his jacket whenever he would notice i was getting cold like omg he makes me so 💓💗💘💕💖🩷💝 idk if i should bring up the “what are we?” talk bc although nothing is rlly official yet but how we are w/ each other is very much bf & gf just without the label so that’s what’s kind of having me on edge lately😭 i’m seeing him again tomorrow for brunch so idk we’ll see!

my baby doll zadie thank you for always making me smile and caring for me, i truly appreciate it so much🥹 i always want to be the same for you💗🧸 !! you deserve the world and more my love, pls take care of yourself! sending my love & a giant wave of kisses to you baby! 💋🩷🌷💖

- 💌

oh goodness my baby's ask has been burried all the way on the last spot of my i box and im SO sorry for being so late with my response angel love 🥺💞

firstly, thank you SO much for the love and support on cold hearts, you know your words means the world to me and ive missed talking to you so so much 😫😫

i cant wait for you guys to see more of that side of him tbh and i promise it's only one more angsty chapter and then its all love and fluff and just lots of cuteness 🤭🤭💞

omg omg omg that actually sounds super exciting babyc im so glad he's treating you well and thag you two get along so good, you deserve nothing but the best and i hope by now you guys have made things official 🤭🤭🤭💞

thank you so much for always checking in on me and giving me so much love, you truly are such a sweet soula nd im so grateful to have you 🥺💞💗💐

hope life's been treating you well baby, pls acceot all my kisses!💞💞💞

[screampied]

hi vegas! can i just say that i looove the way you write satoru? idk how to explain but he makes me go 💞💓💗💖💝💞💘💓💗💗💘💕 twirling my hair and all 🤭 and your theme is so pretty! i was trying to do a similar style like your banners (theyre rlly pretty btw) because I got inspo from you but tell me why does mine look like shit 😭 anyways I love your fics sm <3

WOAH DUDE REALLY ???/;@)THANK YOU ☹️💖

i always fear my satoru’s too ooc but i’m glad to hear u think that 🥹💖 and THANK YOUUUUU OMIGOSH ur making me smile :,) awn !!! i bet ur theme designs r lovely !! no problem babesssss