#because it is pain to have OCs you love but never be able to see them as you picture them in your heads

[pyrriax]

ANYWHO goodnight tumblr i'll be back on the art grind tomorrow i think 🙏

[anquer]

AI generated art stealing from artists is bad but I would also like to say that the handful of broke people using AI to create art of their OCs because they can’t affort commissioned art are not the people we should be yelling at.

It’s important to encourage people to buy from artists, and I do agree that those who can afford commissions should absolutely do that before turning to AI art, but I just don’t think those who can’t afford commissions can be blamed for using AI. Other options are available, such as picrew, but they just aren’t as good as AI at getting specific details and mood into the art as well. While AI often doesn’t do exactly what we had in mind, it does generally produce nice results that have much more character to it than picrew art can.

I mainly stand behind those people because

1. they are not the core issue. I don’t know any numbers, but I’m willing to bet that the number of people getting their OCs drawn by AI rather than getting then commissioned from an artist (because they literally cannot afford commissions!!) is very small.

2. I am still broke myself, and while I now have the skills to draw my own OCs, I remember what it was like a few years ago to be absolutely penniless, with no real drawing skills yet, and yearning for quality art of my OCs.

In my (perhaps unpopular) opinion, we should rather focus this energy towards encouraging people with money to buy commissions and being loud enough that perhaps in the future, AI art can start moving into a more ethical direction somehow. Because another fact is that now that we are starting to have quality AIs available, they’re not going to go away. What that means for artists is nothing good, but hating on the broke who don’t know how to draw themselves is stupid.

And honestly? In my opinion, going forward, a bigger problem than those broke people using AI for a few portraits of their OCs will be all the big companies using AI for things like the art in their marketing campaigns, the whole visual style of everything, all of their graphic design in general, even stuff like storyboarding and comics once AI gets advanced enough. Articles and blogs might replace photographers with AI-generated photos if the photos don’t have to be from a real event. If we start getting AIs that are capable of producing coherent video too, a lot of jobs in all video-making industries will be lost. AIs are already writing some articles, and who knows if in the future it’s the majority of news and articles that are researched and written by AI rather than humans? Perhaps AI can even learn how to write best-selling books and that leads to publishing companies taking in less and less human works because the perfect AI doesn’t need editors, royalties, OR months (or even years) of time to finish the story.

Now, I’m obviously hoping that AI will be used to support creative work rather than destroy it, but in this capitalist world, I don’t have high hopes. That’s why I think yelling at the broke who make a few OC portraits for themselves using AI is dumb. They aren’t the cause of this and they really won’t have an impact on the art industry or the future of AI.

(However, someone with enough money to pay for art opting to use AI instead? Yikes.)

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑠𝑤𝑒𝑒𝑡 𝑠𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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The moment Xavier’s fangs pierce your skin, all you can think is that it fucking hurts.  

Honestly, the sensation can’t even be fully described in words. It’s sharp, and it stings, and even once you get past the initial pain of his fangs sinking into your flesh, they stay there, buried under the surface, making your neck throb and ache like never before.

Your eyes are shut. You don’t dare to open them and catch a glimpse of what’s happening. The pain is already more than enough

Still, you don’t even think of pulling away. You chose this, and you need this. God, you need the money so fucking bad.

Xavier holds you close, and you can’t help the whimper you let out as you hear him swallowing mouthfuls of your blood. It’s not just the pain that’s hard to stomach, but the sensation of being slowly drained of the precious liquid that’s meant to be keeping you alive.

This is unnatural. Under ordinary circumstances, this would never be happening.  

Then again, nothing about your life has ever been ordinary.  

You can feel your body swaying a bit, and you’re thankful that Xavier is holding onto you so tightly, otherwise you might have already collapsed from light-headedness. Come to think of it, you didn’t even ask how much blood you’re expected to give. Surely, he’ll stop eventually, right? Otherwise... 

Otherwise, you might actually die.  

Mercifully, Xavier pulls away just as that harrowing thought fills your mind, and you are immediately flooded with relief. 

At least, until you take a good look at his face.  

There’s blood all over his lips. Your blood. It’s a deep shade of crimson, and you realize, with a gulp, that you’ve never actually lost this much blood before, yet now, it’s staining the better portion of a stranger’s face.  

Xavier must have picked up on your frightened expression, because he quickly digs into his pocket and pulls out a napkin, then uses it to wipe his mouth.  

“There,” he says. “Is that better?”  

You nod hastily. You really don’t mean to offend him, but seeing something like that for the first time... it’s a bit difficult to brush aside.

Xavier stares at you for a few moments. You wonder if he still hasn’t had his fill yet, if he wants to go back in for more. The tender spot on your neck throbs painfully at the thought. 

But instead, he stands up, adjusts his tie, and nods.  

“That’ll be all,” he says. “Thank you for your cooperation. Please speak to the doctor if you happen to be feeling unwell.”  

He walks out without another word, and it kind of feels like a slap to the face. What you just did together can’t exactly be considered intimate, you suppose, but he still drank your goddamn blood, which as far as you're concerned, is a pretty big deal. To watch him carry on with such nonchalance is a harsh reminder that the two of you are completely different.  

Anyways, it’s finally over. You actually pulled it off, and even though it hurt like a bitch, you have every intention of doing it again.  

So long as you’re getting paid, of course.  

“How are you feeling?” the doctor asks. He steps in the room shortly after Xavier leaves, then walks over to you and examines the bite mark on your neck. “Just wait a moment. I’ll disinfect the area and give you a bandage.”  

He wipes your neck down, making sure to be as gentle as possible, applies a thin layer of some kind of ointment, then sticks on a cute little flower-shaped bandage.  

Once he’s done, there’s virtually no sign that a vampire was drinking your blood just a few minutes ago.  

“Blood pressure seems fine,” he remarks, removing the cuff from your arm. “Unless you’re concerned about something, I’d say you’re good to go.”  

Besides the dull pain coming from your neck every so often, and the fact that you’re perhaps a bit dizzy, you think you’ll be okay.  

“I’m good,” you nod. “It wasn’t so bad.”  

That part is a bit of a lie. It did hurt, after all. But you’re used to dealing with hardship, and if there’s anything your shitty life has taught you, it’s how to suck it up and endure.  

The doctor nods, then pulls out an envelope from the inner pocket of his coat. “Here. Your payment for today. As we explained in the contract, all payments will be delivered on-site, immediately after you’ve met with a client. However, it’s up to the client if they wish to see you again, which is why there is no fixed schedule for these appointments.”  

“There’s a chance he might not want to see me again?” you frown, taking the envelope into your hands. 

“It’s a possibility. All vampires have their own preferences, just like how humans prefer different kinds of food. But even if this particular client chooses not to proceed with your meetings, we can try to match you with a different client. Make sure to check your phone regularly so that we can update you on the situation.”  

Right. That makes sense. If the client isn’t satisfied with the quality of their blood, it goes without saying that they wouldn’t want to keep paying for it. It’s kind of like going to a restaurant and ending up with a gross, undercooked meal. Although the analogy is perhaps a bit crude.  

“Take it easy for the next little while,” the doctor suggests. “You seem perfectly fine, but you’ve still lost quite a bit of blood, so make sure to put your health first.”  

How cute. If only you had the luxury of doing that.  

Unfortunately, it’s time to go to work.  

You did it. Against all odds, you actually pulled it off.  

A few days have passed, and thanks to the payment from selling your blood, a few extra shifts you picked up, and cutting back on meals so that you wouldn’t have to buy groceries again, somehow, you managed to scrounge up all the money Johnny asked for.  

You watch, nervously, as he counts the cash you handed him, making sure to be as thorough as possible. It looks like he’s wary of counterfeit bills, or perhaps he just can’t believe that you actually found a way to pay him back.  

Whatever the case, this time, you’ve been spared.  

“Alright,” he says. “It’s all here. See? I knew you could do it. From now on, I expect this same amount every two weeks, like we agreed on.” 

He flashes you a shit-eating grin, then breezes past you, making sure to slap your ass right as he leaves. 

You grit your teeth, mortified. Of course, you don’t dare oppose him. You know all too well how things will end if you do.  

At least it worked. But meeting his demands every two weeks is going to be ridiculously difficult, and the only way you’ll pull it off is if Xavier calls on you again, or at the very least, another vampire decides to solicit your services.  

I never thought it would come to this. To think that I’m actually hoping someone will drink my blood. Life really is a constant fucking struggle.  

Nothing’s ever been easy for you. But perhaps things are finally about to change for the better.  

The screen of your phone lights up, and as you read the message that just appeared, your eyes widen. 

Xavier wants to meet with you again.  

“...disgusting,” Felix shudders. He shoves the other person away, much to their bewilderment. “You’re no good. I’ve tried so many of the humans that have signed up for this program, but all of them taste fucking nasty. This is a waste of my time. And don’t expect to be paid.”  

He sighs and leaves the room before the foul-tasting human can even protest. Yet another disappointment. To think that he was so excited to move to the big city and see what it had to offer, only to be let down like this.  

If this is how things are going to be, then he’s probably better off just obtaining blood pack rations directly from the government. They’re stale and disgusting, but clearly flesh blood is no different here, and he’ll save a lot of money.  

Right. That’s what he’ll do. As much as all vampires crave drinking blood directly from the source, what choice does he have, when everyone tastes like absolute shit?  

He’s just about to speak to one of the staff and let them know he’s done paying for this program, when suddenly, a sweet scent wafts by him.  

Felix immediately knows it’s you. Even for a vampire, his senses have always been unnaturally sharp. Perhaps that’s why he’s so picky when it comes to drinking blood. His taste buds are more sophisticated, more developed, so when something isn’t quite right, he can tell right away.  

The same is true for his sense of smell, although it’s rare for a human to smell so appealing, especially since you’re rather far away.  

In fact, it might be the very first time anyone has ever smelled this good to him.  

Felix watches you walk down the hall, escorted by one of the doctors. You must be here to sell your blood, and the longer he stares at you, the more he finds himself rethinking his earlier decision.  

A smile creeps onto his lips.  

“Well,” he chuckles softly, “maybe I should give it one last chance.” 

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[lady-ashfade]

My Oath

day six of celebration marathon

Percy Jackson x platonic!demigod!reader. (God of the unknown because I can’t help myself, he is a oc of mine for my pjo series)

-£ plot: Your father has learned of a new forbidden child. As his number one he sends you to do his bidding. until your loyalty is challenged.

-words: 1k

-£part two?

-£ warnings: angst, plot of murder, new plot, slight spoilers for readers father in “a love watered by blood”, god of the unknown, (Big spoilers. Reader is sent to kill Pecy) , also the song from Epic:the Troy sagas “the horse and the infant” is what this is based off of.

you were no oath breaker.

you bowed at your fathers feet as he sat upon his throne. the place you called home was dark and misty, your fathers doing, it was a place of mistrust but undying loyalty to him. it was you who was called on often as you served at his hand, you proved your worth as a demigod and you became something more when he took you into his ranks. no other gods dared to speak to him and he liked it that way, no fuss or chatting.

they had many secrets. and he could spill them all.

he hated his “family” and they knew it. wars have been taught over centuries and he picked a side with little care. but he did love secrets and nothing was kept from him even in the smallest corner in the world. every whisper was his to hear.

“what is needed of me.” your eyes stayed on the marble floor beneath your knee, your arms thrown over and await his command.

“i have found a forbidden child, again,” he picked at his nails, his body slumped against the throne.

“a son of poseidon, perseus jackson. make his death quick, but i don’t care if it’s painful.”

you slowly looked up at him, you examined his calm and carelessness behavior. a forbidden child was not unheard of to you, as you have been sent to watch a few over the many years. killing was easy for you, no harm came to your mind as the thought of displeasing your father outweighed any death you caused by your hands.

“tell me where to go.” you agreed to the quest.

earth was a strange place, especially since you grew up in a different time. though you watched the mortal realm in the mirror in your room, finding peaceful places and happy memories being created. but it was a curse, no matter how hard you tried to fight it, when your eyes closed you would dream about the horrors of life. maybe it was a way of life getting back at you for being the cause of destruction— a weapon to be used.

creeping into the apartment building, the widow was not able to keep you out since you had many tools. you’ve done things like this, sneak and kill, return and repeat at his command. you never failed— in fear of being destroyed yourself, a gods wrath was a hard punishment for anyone.

the room was dark and only the light from the moon shined in, making things noticeable. the clothes sticked to your skin from the weather that night. drawling your dagger, preparing to kill your next victim and without causing destress or a fight. but it wasn’t a man you saw. it wasn’t a bed.

it was a crib, a few shells hanging above the babes sleeping body.

stepping back in shock and hesitation you stare at the infant. he was so small. he looked healthily. how is he going to cause any harm? you couldn’t kill a child- a baby. someone unwilling to make decisions for themselves. your doubts and thoughts caused your ears to start ringing, the drums getting pressure built on them.

“I can sense you have your doubts,” the deep voice makes your body shiver and look down at the bracelet on your wrist. the only thing your father gifted you, a silver band with a mirror attached in the center. he could see what was happening anytime without fail. all mirrors are a portal for his eyes.

“He’s just a boy- what kind of threat does he pose?” you kept your voice low and hushed to not awake the mother of the babe.

“he is a forbidden child, you know what that entails. you’ve seen it with your own eyes the damage they cause, the wars started with unfair advantages. that child will grow into a soldier, cause chaos everywhere he steps and gets good people killed. you know I am right.” each point he made was the same he used before to justify his actions.

“don’t make me do this.” you plead. you’ve never begged before, never spared a life in all your years. but never, have you been sent to kill someone so innocent.

“you dare beg for his life to be spared? I have given you a order, so do it.”  your father snarled. not many times were you under his accusative tone. you could hear his voice echoing through the throne room along with a slam of his hand.

“i have done everything you asked of me,” you sounded so small in defeat, “but I can not do this.”

just like that you were willing to risk everything you have built. a place at your fathers feet, above others. a place to live and thrive. and for what? the answer is when you looked at him there is nothing to defend, nothing but a open book waiting to be filled.

“you don’t have a choice,” he roared through the mirror and you could feel the vibration. “kill him, now.” he demanded as his nails scratched at the chair he seat mighty on.

“after years of faithful service, I obeyed every order and command, I live alone each day in a room filled with people. you may have made me for a weapon to use, to do your job for you but I will no longer be a slave.” for the first time you spoke back.

“one day he will die, but not by my hands.” taking the watch on your hand and slipping it off of you, then letting it fall to the ground. the last thing you see is your father shouting at you, his face grim and frustrated. stomping your foot on the floor you break the glass, the item becomes useless.

glancing over to the babe who looked peaceful and wrapped up in a tight blanket. it’s been forever since you were this close to a baby. as a little girl you wished for a family of your own, only you had a life of a demigod.

but looking at him made you sick to your stomach. a pit of anger for the boy who had cost you everything. the world was his to explore.

you were left with no home, no family to go to. and you had broken a oath. you swore yourself to never fail a quest or go against his wishes but you had, for a son of poseidon?— world must have been coming to a end.

you tried to hate him, you really did. but there was no one left to fight for. the decision was yours to make, his life was worth more then yours could ever be. you left quickly after that, afraid you had been to loud.

and one day, you’ll meet the boy he became.

Taglist: @itzmeme @ravenmedows @maria699669 @purplerose291

[tachibubu]

Hello again!

Can you write one with Aegon? Where his wife, who has just discovered she is pregnant, ends up being attacked by an undercover guard and nearly kills her, but her bodyguard kills the intruder. However, even injured, when Aegon returns to the room without knowing what happened, because she didn't want to tell him, he sees her injured and takes care of her.

HOW THEY REACT WHEN YOU WERE INJURED

∆ PAIRING ; Aemond Targaryen | Jacaerys Velaryon | Aegon II Targaryen x Pregnant!Reader/OC/Self-Insert

∆ SUMMARY ; In which the boys were unable to protect you while pregnant when an assassination had happen when he is not within your reach. (Takes place during the war towards late war.)

∆ WARNINGS ; angst with fluffy ending, youre pregnant, minimal violence, ooc characters, some minor/major(?) spoilers from the book (wont indicate what it is).

NOTE ;   I changed the concept to them knowing you're pregnant instead so that their intentions would be far more heavy! It's quite hard to write it fully so I hope it is fine! (got the askers permission to write it with Jac and Ae too!)

Aegon was content with the few things he had in life and would not want them stripped away. The war took a toll on his whole life, which is still currently happening to his dismay. He was trying to hunt with a handful of his comrades to alleviate his nerves before the Blacks made their move while still struggling with a foot injury. However, the peaceful moment was quickly interrupted when a squire hurried to deliver some news. He turned his horse to ride back to the castle in such a hurry that not even the knights and lords who had been riding with him could halt when he learned about the incident that had recently occurred while he was gone.

He yelled as he slid off the horse without assistance, "Who dares touch the queen? I will rip their limbs off!" He winced in agony but dragged his injured feet towards the assembly of knights despite the advice of the maesters, who sought to assist him but were met with a swat of his palm.

His gaze penetrated the bloodied man next to your sworn protector, Ser Criston Cole, "So you're the fuckin' bastard," he snarled. He was littered with bruises and wounds; Criston clearly took a toll on him, but he managed to keep himself from doing more harm, though Aegon remained unsatisfied. Rather, he gave the man a punch to the face, then spat at him before sneering at Criston. He was clearly unhappy with him for not having been able to prevent the incident straight away, but he kept quiet. "Ser Criston, I command you to amputate each of his limbs one by one."

"Try not to cut his nerve. I want him to experience it slowly," were his last words before he left and dismissed the pleas of mercy from the assailant, asking the servants to escort him to your shared quarters immediately.

You were covered in bruises and had a fresh cut on your lip when he first met you. He fought back tears as he demanded the healers to leave your chamber immediately and cursed at them for mistreating you while he was absent even if they were trying their best to alleviate your pain. When the room was empty, he had knelt down next to you, trying to bandage you, though his limited knowledge of such things frustrated him before he whimpered on your lap. Suffocating himself within his own tears.

He sobbed uncontrollably while you whispered sweet words of comfort to him, "I'm sorry, I'm deeply sorry,... " He doesn't know anything; he doesn't even know how to protect his pregnant wife and their unborn child. He became frustrated with himself as he bit his lip, drawing blood, and vented his feelings to you: "My sweet girl, I can't even protect you."

"I'm frightened," he confessed as he pecked the back of your hand before peering at you while tears gushed down his ashen cheeks, his eyes begging for forgiveness. "I will never leave you again, my love. I promise."

________________________________________

Aemond had just returned from an expedition with Vhagar. He had received a notice from the Keep informing him that you had been the victim of an attempted assassination. No matter how he urged Vhagar to fly faster, she did not advance him far enough for him to be satisfied with the pace.

Vhagar landed outside the gates after entering the Red Keep's border. His dignity eluded him as he fled. Even though they paid no heed at Aemond, the knights were perplexed by the prince's unexpected action. Whenever a maester attempted to stop the prince's advances, he was silenced by the prince's gaze, too scared to face the wrath of the second prince as he lived up to his infamous reputation.

He gasped for air when he saw you laying on your shared bed and then walked cautiously over to you, as if not to scare you. "What happened to him?" he whispered, his voice cold yet soothing.

"Dead, Aemond," You immediately embraced the evidently shaken man, and he reciprocated the embrace, trying to ease his tremors. He felt disgusted with himself for not being able to even protect you through such a catastrophic event, yet he was also relieved that you were still alive and breathing and that your pregnancy was not affected. "I am afraid." You added before Aemond gave you a tender kiss.

He inspected your wounds delicately, asking, "Where does it hurt?" You pointed to the locations of all the injuries and recounted what had happened in extensive detail while he grunted in agreement. If it had been someone else, you may have assumed they were not paying attention, but Aemond had a different way of expressing it; after kissing you once again, he cleansed your wounds and covered them with fresh cloths.

His brows furrowed as he was plainly distressed and lost in thought. You smiled before placing your lips against his in an attempt to console him, and he moaned in surprise but returned the kiss deeply. He guided you with his hand behind your neck and did not rush the tender moment you two were sharing. He pressed his forehead against yours after several kisses and whispered lowly, "I'll kill them all, every last one of them."

"I'll win this war for you and for our child, my lady, my (Y/N)."

________________________________________

Jacaerys, who seeks to control his emotions as advised by his teacher, couldn't help but spout incoherent obscenities when the information was presented to him. He had just completed sealing the partnership of the North when he received unfortunate news as soon as he arrived in Dragonstone.

He projected his voice into the room: "When did it take place?" The black council stayed silent. Mysaria, the acknowledged Mistress of Whisperers, spoke up with clarity, concerned that she might have disrespected the prince. She had just entered Dragonstone to deliver information when she was met by the prince's wrath.

"Just half a moon ago, my prince," she answered honestly, as Jacaerys clasped both of his hands together and took a deep breath. His anger is only just rising.

He hissed faintly, "And you told me exactly that now?"

Before Mysaria could respond, a Lord intervened, saying, "It is my duty to see you tended first before —"

The thud of the chair collapsing on the floor echoed throughout the room before the prince went out. Although he stomped violently with each stride, they were nevertheless somewhat elegant. The council members lowered their heads as he passed by them, but he didn't take note of it as he glanced at his protector and beckoned for him to follow.

However, once he had left the room, he developed a scowl, and his previous comfortable gait had been replaced with a brisker one. His breath paused as he witnessed you being treated for your injuries by the healers, after presumably having only just nudged the door partially open.

When you spotted him at last, you had the strength to smile at him briefly. He sat next to you on your bed and thanked the healers, pleased with their work, but it pained his heart to see you smiling even in your condition. He showered you with multiple soft kisses on your forehead, nose, lips, and neck before resting his head on your shoulder.

His palm massaged your growing stomach as his voice was low, and he said, "My lovely girls." Despite the fact that he longed for a boy, he caved in and accepted that his unborn child would be a girl as a result of the way you would correct him frequently when he spoke of the male pronouns for your child.

"You were so strong; I am very proud of you." He uttered it before giving you a peck on the stomach; his head is now resting on it as he sings a lullaby while both of you rest. "Do not worry; I am here now, and no one will lay a hand on you ever again."

[hana-no-seiiki]

Hello! I hope you are doing well, I have an idea, feel free to ignore but I hope you like it.

Yandere Male Deliquent x GN Ex Bully

Like he tried to make them explode and being their “true self”, because in the past, when they were younger, they defend him and he became a delinquent just to see them again.

Sorry if my English is bad.

Bye!

YAN! DELINQUENT OC x GN! EX BULLY! READER

Also your English great anon! Dw about it.

AAAAAAA I’ve meaning to do more Yan! Delinquent recently anon!! You read my mind. For those new to my account. I already have a Yan! Delinquent OC named Mori Ban (see tag: hns.moriban) who was the first to really blow up from my yan! ocs. I always loved this trope with yan stories hhh

tw/cw: DDNE, mention extreme bullying, assault, and harassment. (brought out my trauma for this one). i imagine reader to be amab/masc for this one but there are no explicits allusions to that.

Uttering the name [L/N] [Y/N] was enough to strike fear in the hearts of men. Literally and figuratively speaking, your voice was enough to make even the highest of authorities piss their pants. Not only were you capable of destroying a person’s physical body with your very own hands, you were able to dismantle everything from their relationships and reputation to their financial situations in life.

People predicted you to grow up and become an even more menacing, ruthless person. You had the potential, and with the way you were it was simply the natural trajectory.

But like you always did, you broke everyone’s expectations.

You were like the delinquent version Serena Van Der Woodsen. Mindlessly strutting in as if you hadn’t put several companies to bankruptcy because the owner’s kid looked at you the wrong way. Nonchalantly eating your lunch in the same vicinity of your old victims as if you hadn’t shoved their face into the toilet as a way to pass time. Cheerfully waving at the student council president as if you hadn’t constantly blackmailed and assaulted them for several years just so they’d do your homework and projects. No one was safe from you. You had no code. As long as you felt like it, any life could be destroyed.

Standing opposite to your current path was Mori.

He used to be the punching bag of your lesser goons. Known for being weak and poor, only good for his academic excellence.

He grew up to be almost as fearsome than you. Where-areas you were coldblooded, revelling in the pain you brought upon others. He was a lot more morally guided. Sure, his enemies often suffered worse fates physically, but he wasn’t like you in the way he picked his battles. He only brought hell to those that deserved it. Those that hurt other people first.

And then there was the way he treated you.

You technically belonged to the category he dealt with. You ruined dozens, maybe even hundreds or thousands of lives in a whim. You were the devil in a pretty suit of skin. Despite your lack of hostility nowadays, you never apologised or took accountability, never attempted to atone for your mistakes. The only reason why others haven’t confronted you about it was because of fear. They didn’t want to potentially anger you and set off a bomb.

But Mori? Mori could handle you.

After all, he dedicated his whole life to being your equal; serving you, aiding you.

In fact, he was just so disappointed to see you this way. All disgustingly docile and horridly disciplined. What kind of monster tamed you to be like this? Mori chuckled at the thought. No one but him can match you. You must have started behaving yourself for the sake of appearance. All of this was just a façade. If you had truly changed you would have begged for forgiveness to those you’ve wronged. If you had become a better person then you wouldn’t be discreetly glaring at him when you thought he wasn’t looking.

If someone had truly taught you to be a goody-two-shoes he would have killed them ages ago.

“Hey, [N/N]. Sweetheart. How ya doin?” Mori leaned forward. He grew to be quite a ways taller than you and had to lean over to meet you face to face. Much to your chagrin.

“Fine. It’s so nice of you to ask Ban. If you’ll excuse me.” You adeptly moved to the side. You had dealt with this man-child several times throughout the semester already and knew to just avoid him at all costs lest you lose braincells and precious energy talking to him.

However, you could only take two steps before his hands grappled unto your wrist.

“Woah woah woah there. We’re not done yet.”

You don’t look back, and firmly yet calmly stated, “Yes, we are.”

“It’s a little late but we have yet to give you a homecoming party. That wouldn’t be fair for the great [Y/N].”

You turned back. Eyes wide, not of surprise or anger, but from sheer awe of this man’s audacity.

“I know what you want, and you’re not getting it from me right now.” You scowled at his beautiful pink eyes and effortlessly yanked your arm away from him. You didn’t know it yet back then,

but you had already lit the match.

©️ hana.no.seiiki - yun | 2023

[reriart]

While Your Lips Are Still Red

Summary: You suffer for what's happening in your life and you tried to put an end to it, but Astarion saved you.

Notes/TW: I wrote this fanfiction thinking about my Tav (female), but I wrote it gender-neutral so you can think about your OC (or you!) without any problems. The theme of suicide is the focus of this story, so if you are particularly sensitive to the theme and don't feel okay, please don't read it! I chose this topic because it is particularly dear and close to me. No one deserves to suffer and if you need it don't hesitate to contact a hotline. You are not alone!

There's also a bit of romance.

Please remember that English is not my native language.

Your sight grew darker and blurrier.

The bright stars in the sky, your only companions on nights when nightmares seemed to prevail, now seemed like many small, confused, and meaningless dots — the last, silent judges of your ruthless act.

You had decided to end everything: the story of the tadpoles, the absolute, the emperor... it was too much.

Your life had never been peaceful from the beginning, but the limit to how you could tolerate pain had become increasingly thin. You had tried every loophole possible, including considering joining Shadowheart in her crusade for Shar's honor; but just a few days before, you had convinced her to abandon the Lady of Loss and embrace her loving sister Selune. Because for her, your best friend, there was still hope, a glimmer of divine light ready to welcome her.

But not for you. Each fight had become more exhausting, each rescue mission more violent, soaked in innocent blood. The harpists, the tieflings. Children who would never play again, men and women who would never love again.

You should have rejoiced that you were still alive. To still be able to enjoy that great gift that life was. Yet now, cradled by the cold waters of the lake, not far from your sleeping companions, unaware of everything, your injured wrists let the red blood stain that crystalline liquid.

After making sure everyone was asleep (or in a trance, or on patrol, in Astarion's case), you had pulled your dagger from its sheath and used it on yourself right on the shore. You wanted to stab yourself and get it over with as quickly as possible, but you couldn't.

And now, at the mercy of the sweet waves, you waited for your moment. The moment when it would all end. You had managed to isolate the Emperor thanks to Gale, with the excuse of "I need a spell that silence everything for a few hours, or I won't even sleep tonight". A little suspicious, the wizard of Waterdeep finally granted your request. This way, none of your group would have the slightest signal from the tadpoles.

Your head felt lighter… it was like being drunk. A bitter smile spread across your face as your limbs grew numb, and your body grew colder and colder. The eyelids, however, became extremely heavy, as if there were a stone holding them down, and his heartbeat pounded in the eardrums like a war drum. The body became lighter and lighter but also heavier. The arms wanted only to go down, further down, towards the depths of the lake.

Your vision became almost completely blurred, your heartbeat infinitely slow: it was the end. One last breath and everything would have ended, if it hadn't been the rippling water and the cold hands (but warmer than your skin) that tore you away from the agonized embrace of death.

Thump-sounding words filled your head, but you didn't understand their meaning. A pale blob stood in front of you, squirming like a madman. A gasp came from your mouth as you recognized the figure. It was Astarion, visibly panicking. Perhaps thanks to the adrenaline of seeing him so agitated, you managed to understand his words.

"What the hell did you think?!" he almost screamed, lifting you out of the water to hold you. His gaze fell to your wrists which continued to bleed and you saw him swallow and clench his jaw. "I… one thing at a time. Now I have to think about getting you out of here, damn it." He rolled his eyes so as not to focus too much on your wounds, a temptation for him, especially after his failed hunt earlier. You didn't have the energy to reply, so you just let the elf pick you up, your eyelids too numb to allow you to look at him. You could only see his worried look, his milky white eyebrows furrowed.

Once you reached the shore, you felt Astarion spinning around. “If I take you to camp like this they'll think I bled you dry before you even let me explain,” he whispered. The companions were not within earshot, although relatively close, but it was normal for the vampire to operate in the shadows. You felt your body hit the ground and when you had enough strength to open your eyes, you noticed that he had found shelter in the forest. Your back was leaning against a large log, your legs stretched out on the damp ground.

“A…Astarion?” you whispered. "What…?"

“We'll leave the explanations for later, darling. Give me your wrists,” he ordered. Your tired eyes reflected fear. Did he want to bite you? Finish you there?

Noticing your hesitation, he took them both in his cold hands. "I do not want to hurt. Let me save you." His voice was calm, but his eyes hid a nervousness you had rarely seen. He swallowed, and bringing your wrists to his mouth, he licked them. His red eyes glowed like rubies and his breath trembled against your veins as a short, strangled moan escaped his throat. He seemed to struggle against himself, before placing your wrists on the ground, perhaps with a little too much force. You almost heard him growl as his jaw muscles clenched and his fingers trembled.

The wounds were gone. You blinked several times, lifting your arms with difficulty. It was as if they had never existed!

“I… thank you, Astarion. For saving me. Because of this. It must have been diff…”. Your head was spinning fast, so fast. You felt like the ground was disappearing from underneath your body and you almost fell to the side, if it weren't for the vampire, who grabbed you, preventing your head from hitting a stone.

“Do you want… me to hold you?” he asked with an apprehensive look, his voice a little more serious than usual. Maybe it was the lack of blood that made you see misleading things because he didn't look like Astarion at all. However, by now you didn't care about anything anymore, for all you knew he might as well be a shape-shifting monster ready to make a single morsel of you. You nodded your head and Astarion pulled you into his arms, resting your back against his chest.

"Better?" he asked. His breath tickled your neck.

“Mh hm” you replied. "Listen…"

You felt his arms become firmer around you.

"I am sorry." His voice was a whisper. “I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner. Maybe all this wouldn't have happened."

You frowned, tilting your head slightly, which made it spin even more than before, confusing you to the point of making you feel drunk. "What…? What didn't you tell me...?”

The pale elf peered at the now distant black lake through the trunks of the forest. He didn't have the courage to meet your gaze.

“That I love you, my dear. Or rather, I told you that time as a joke, at the camp. Those words that I said to all the victims before taking them to Cazador." His gaze finally found its way to yours, glossy for the tears you were trying to hold back. Your heart, slow at first, began to thunder in your skull like a hammer, your breath became shorter and you tried to move away from him.

It wasn’t possible. It couldn't be. Was he taking advantage of that situation? Was he joking? Was it a demon, perhaps Raphael, ready to extort some contract from you?

"I do not believe you". Your voice trembled with fear and weakness, but even if you wanted to, you couldn't escape. You couldn't feel your legs anymore and the breath burned in your lungs. Even if you wanted to scream no one would have heard you.

Your panic didn't come from the fear of being eaten, but from the fact that Astarion had been the last bastion of salvation for you before you thought about harming yourself. You had feelings for him for a long time now, and your eyes often drifted over his slender frame as you tried to fall asleep in your bedroll as he drifted further into the darkness. When you allowed him to drink your blood, his bites and lips continued to torment you in the night, but far from unpleasant reasons. However, convinced that you were not reciprocated and considering his ambition for power and the constant flirting during missions even with bears, those words looked fake to you. You bit your lip, curling up as much as you could.

“No, no, don't be like that... look at me,” he said while lifting your chin with one hand. You didn't want to, you didn't want to accept the reality and feel terribly stupid for almost throwing your life away when the one you loved maybe actually reciprocated your feelings. When your eyes finally met, you saw him for what he truly was.

A fragile creature. His look was desperate, the mouth curved in an expression of infinite sadness. His other hand caressed your hair... a pleasant contact, which made you relax a little. "Listen to me. I know I don't have the easiest of temperament” he confessed, a bitter laugh, with his typical accent, changed his expression for a moment. “And I want you to know that everything you see of me is not… true. It's that bastard Cazador who turned me into a monster. But you made me feel something that in two hundred years, under his control, I had never felt.”

You rested your face in his hand, now cupping your cheek. You decided to trust. If it was a dream or a near-death hallucination, you wanted to live every minute of it.

"What?"

"Free. I feel free” he murmured, and his lips rested on yours in a sweet, delicate kiss. They were surprisingly soft and tasted vaguely of iron and mulberry, but that contact was enough to feel a new, powerful rush of adrenaline bringing you back to the present.

It was really happening. You were in his arms and he had saved you from certain death. And now he was kissing you in the sweetest way possible, both of his hands cupping your face as if you were in danger of breaking at any moment.

It seemed like an eternal, perfect kiss that you wanted to leave suspended in time. When you opened your eyes again, you found his. So vulnerable, so desperate. He ran a finger over your lip, before being grabbed and hugged like his life depended on it.

"Stay with me. Forever."

[darkbluekies]

How do you think King Edmund would react if the reader felt like a shell like she was an object to the king and has a bit of a breakdown. Would Edmund try to reassure her? Or do you think he'd just leave her alone for a while? Anyway I love your writing so much just the way the dialogue flows and just your ocs are so complex its amazing 🤌✨

(Thank you so much, it means a lot<3)

No this would break Edmund’s heart :(

The thing is, he doesn't realize that he is doing something to hurt you. This is just how he's always been. He doesn't mean to objectify you — belittle you because he thinks he's better than you, sure, but never make you feel like you're not special to him! He can't understand your pain because to him, that's his normality. He's always addressed people like this. It's just what he does, but he wants to be on good terms with you, hates fighting with you.

He'd bring you into his arms and reassure you that he doesn't see you as an object. He married you even though he didn't have to, right? Why would he go to such extremes to marry you if he thought of you as an object? Even if he couldn't understand why you got so upset, just seeing you cry makes him furious, but this time, he has no one to blame but himself.

"Who in their right mind would call you an object, my love? You know I don't mean it like that, I just- ... it's not ill intended, okay? Smile for me, I don't like seeing you cry. Can you smile for me? It'd make me so happy. There we go, good girl. Listen, if you really were an object to me, you'd be my crown because I can't live without you", he'd smile and wipe your tears. "Without my crown, I can't think, I am not myself."

But since Edmund is very self-centered and grown to this type of me-me-me thinking, he probably wouldn't be able to change his wording and actions all the time, but he'd try to make sure to talk to you like a human being and not one of his servants. Most of the time.

[chaoticbardlady99]

HI FIRST OF ALL LOVE YOUR WRITING second of all ! kind of specific but may I request an astarion x reader/tav where like. 90% of their time with the companions reader/tav hasn’t been able to see all that well- like. they can see colors and sort-of shapes but most details are completely incomprehensible, and through some method or another (probably someone’s attempt at “removing the tadpole” or smthn but up to you!) they’re finally able to see clearly and they’re just. completely amazed because EVERYTHING (astarion) is so beautiful actually??

Like Nothing I’ve Seen (Astarion x GN! reader)

CW- Mentions of gore and violence (due to Volo being a socially incompetent goofball) , self-esteem issues because I’m an insecure queen myself and like to deal with my feelings through my OCs

I tried to write a body neutral reader as well so everyone can imagine themselves in this story! I hope I was able to pull that off.

Title inspired by the song “Beautiful Things” by Grayscale

Hello! I am so sorry this took so long. Work has been kicking my whole ass lately!!!

This has not be thoroughly proof read so I may make changes as I find them, but I was too excited to post it! I hope you enjoy!

Being a monk is hypothetically supposed to help your pain tolerance- ya know, zen and shit.

Except, you quickly learn that a crossbow bolt to the eyeball is enough to break your zen.

Lae’zel and Shadowheart’s fighting quickly subsides as you stare at the two blobs out of your (now) one only good eye- good being a stretch. Admittedly, of all the people this could have happened to, it’s probably a good thing it was you since your eyes don’t really work anyway.

The purple, silver, and black blob (who you have come to know as ‘Shadowheart’) comes running towards you, her movements frantic as she begins to try to bandage your eye. You wince as she starts to remove the crossbow bolt.

“I am so sorry,” Shadowheart says, the distress evident in her voice, “if only that gith would stop being such a problem.”

Shadowheart practically screamed the last bit, but at least you are in too much pain for the shrill sound of her voice to bother you. You never wanted to find out if eyeballs could throb- you missed the hours before breakfast when you were blissfully ignorant to the true capabilities of your eyeballs.

The hostile green ball, Lae’zel, comes charging over with an insult sitting on the tip of her tongue before another blob knocks her aside.

“Walk it off Lae’zel,” you hear Karlach say with heavy amounts of exasperation.

Lae’zel grumbles as she storms off; Shadowheart continues to slowly work on you as you wince, whimper, and feel the tears start to fall.

“What did you do?!”

The rage in his voice rattles your bones- if tones could kill, Shadowheart would have keeled over. The radiant blob of your lover is in Shadowheart’s face (at least you hope it’s her face).

“Fangs, put them away!”

“Oh? Were you this anal when they were SHOOTING CROSSBOWS KARLACH?!”

You are beginning to feel dizzy and the yelling isn’t helping. Shadowheart, Karlach, and Astarion are arguing relentlessly- Karlach attempting to mediate. At some point Gale and Wyll join the mix- you think they are trying to hold back Astarion, but you aren’t sure.

In all the chaos, you are unaware of Volo coming up behind you- a solution brewing in his brains.

“Don’t worry my friend,” He explains with gusto, “I can fix this!”

Before anyone can protest, Volo rips the bolt out- your eyeball coming out with it before Volo plops a spherical object in your lap.

“Tada!”

The blood curdling scream that rips through your throat as you clutch at your eye socket surprises even you. In the midst of the white, hot pain- you hear Volo running off , also screaming, away from what you think is Astarion.

You feel Shadowheart grab the spherical object from your lap as Karlach holds you down on the ground.

“Sorry Soldier, but this is probably going to hurt.”

Oh and it hurts.

Shadowheart is wiggling the eye roughly into your eye socket, apologizing the entire time. You feel your socket form around the new eye. The pain from the removal and the new addition begins to subside into a dull ache as the new eyeball makes itself at home in your head- healing energy radiating from it and Shadowheart’s palm.

You feel like you are going to throw up, pass out, or go into a fit of hysteria by the time you start trying to blink your eyes open. You stare down at the grass below you and watch as a red bug with black spots walks along one of the blades before taking flight.

You freeze- the world is definitely not blobbish anymore. You run your fingers through the soft, green grass.

Has it always looked this way?

“How is the new eye?” Shadowheart says nervously.

You look over at her and try to stifle your shock.

Shadowheart is stunning and Karlach is just as awe inspiring as Shadowheart.

“Are you okay, Soldier?”

Sometimes you forget that your companions don’t know about your vision issues. You are able to hide your vision deficit well due to your years of training as a monk teaching you how to rely heavily on your other senses and the energy in the air.

You have come to adore all of your companions for their personalities, their laughs- Astarion especially. However, now you understand why perfect strangers come up to your companions with enamored voices.

“You catch him, Fangs?” Karlach says in a teasing town.

You hear Astarion scowl, “the bastard ran off and disappeared before I could even get near him.”

Astarion appears out from the corner of your eye and kneels in front of you. You try so hard to keep the surprise and adoration from showing on your face. His eyes bore into yours with an emotion that is not recognizable. A tick of frustration flares in your mind- now you have to learn an entirely new set of rules for social interaction.

Except, you’ll deal with that later. For now, you have a literal God kneeling in front of you, his hand cupping your cheek and surveying your new eye.

Gods he’s incredible.

“You’re beautiful,” you whisper involuntarily.

As the blush spreads along your cheeks, Astarion breaks out in a bright, beautiful smile.

“Well that settles it, your vision is working just fine!”

He gives you a quick kiss on your lips- your face feels like it’s on fire.

It has been a little over a week since the tiefling party. He had been distant with you initially after your midnight tryst and you had felt quite broken over it. Well- until you had been spending time with Gale at the campfire talking about the Monastery you grew up in and his experiences with the weave. Astarion had barged into the conversation, sat down next to you, and had practically pulled you into his lap next to the campfire. After that night, you’ve become inseparable- sleeping in each other’s tents, more midnight trysts, cuddling, spending the whole night talking or playing games. You spend alone time with your other companions- he would never control you or dictate who you spend time with. He would spy on you and Gale, but he would never prevent you from talking to him.

“No my dear, I trust you. I just don’t trust the boot muncher.”

“You really need to stop saying that,” your serious demeanor cracking, “he doesn’t actually eat the boots.”

He snickered, “oh ya? Then why have we never seen them after he absorbs them? And yet everyone judges my feeding habits!”

Astarion helps you up off the ground and you are dizzy from all the new stimuli around you. His hands find purchase on your hips as he helps steady you. You take advantage of the support and look around your camp.

It all looked exactly how you did and did not imagine. Your brain feels like it’s having a war between what your senses tell you about the land versus what your eyes are saying. You can label everything in the camp because you know where it is based on location, but none of it looks like the way you had anticipated- in fact, it was all far more breathtaking than you imagined.

“What are you thinking about Darling,” he whispers against your ear.

A pleasant shiver runs down your spine, a smile consuming your face.

“I was thinking it might be fun to go explore around camp and make sure my eye is really working.”

He stares at you with an unreadable expression, “I’m sure the environment and your sight hasn’t changed that much?”

Ah, that look means confusion.

“Don’t be such a pessimist,” you put your hand on your hip and flash a grin, “besides, it’s not like I asked you to go with me.”

*******************************************

Astarion walks leisurely behind you as you make a point of touching anything you can reach. He thought you were the most normal one at camp (mentally at the very least), but he is beginning to think he misjudged you.

You are twirling around the forest like you’ve never been in one before. You ask him questions about specific objects and express a great deal of interest in everything you come across- you even find the rocks interesting. While he did find the strangeness to be odd, he still couldn’t help but relish in the genuine, innocent joy on your face. Astarion feels an unfamiliar warmth spread throughout his body while he watches you as you bound around the forest floor.

Astarion is slowly recognizing that his plan is unraveling, but only a little bit. He had thought you would be the lovesick puppy chasing him around camp, but, as Karlach has pointed out to him, it’s the opposite.

He finds himself always making an inventory of where you are in relation to him, who you are talking to, and your feelings- even the ones he is currently disrespecting by attempting to gain your undying protection.

Now Astarion is here- watching you follow a bumble bee towards a large Oak tree.

As you stop and make a point of sitting down under a tree, you touch the various flowers scattered in the grass and excitedly chat about the details of the flower. Astarion silently sits next to you with a smile and takes a look at your face- you look like a blind man seeing for the first time. The realization hits him like an eldritch blast.

“Darling?”

You hum.

“Have you not been able to see until today?”

Astarion watches as you tense up and your eyes meet his. Astarion struggles to discern the look in your eyes- it’s somewhere between fear and apprehension. He offers you a small smile before you break eye contact with a sigh.

“I, um, was sick as a baby. My mom left me outside of a monastery. I guess whatever I was sick with attacked my vision so I could only really see colors and the basic outlines of the things,” Astarion looks at you as if to encourage you to go on so you continue, “it’s never affected me though. The monks taught me how to use my other senses and taught me how to sense energy in the air.”

Astarion is still trying to wrap his head around the fact that a. He was right and b. You slept with him without knowing what he looks like? C. You are easily the second strongest in your little gang of weirdos and the entire time you could barely see.

“So when you told me I was beautiful last week?”

You blush and hide your soft grin. He hears your heart begin to race.

“I really did mean it then,” you pause,” but it’s a different kind of beautiful. I think you are a very good person- I just adore you. Your smile, your laugh, your personality- even the snarky bits. Or when you are at your absolute worst.”

You pause and give him a joking smile, “You are a real pain in the ass though. I didn’t know why everyone is so enamored with you, but now I can see why all those tiefling women kept flirting with you at the party now though.”

He tries to hide the frown that threatens to reveal itself and he sees the panic flash in your eyes.

“Not that I’m saying you are nothing but your looks because that is not true,” you bite your lip, “I just know I came to like you for who you are on the inside and that was…. Quite the experience.”

“Are you suggesting I’m an acquired taste?!”

“Hmmm,” you tap your chin, “ I suppose that is exactly what I’m saying.”

“I am truly heartbroken darling, I thought we had something special.”

He huffs playfully and pretends to be upset- ignoring the butterflies in his stomach. Astarion’s heart clenches as you look at him with the same warmth he is feeling. You break eye contact from him and he can’t help but feel disappointed.

“We do, you’re just lucky I’m a monk and I’ve been forced to practice patience my whole life.”

Astarion is lost for words as he turns over what you just said in his head. You scratch the back of your neck and start talking again.

“And not to mention, you deserve someone who is going to take the time to know you for you- not just adore you for what you look like. You are really one of the most incredible people I’ve ever met Star.”

We do. Incredible. Star.

His body feels like it might explode from the chaos of emotions spirals through his body. He thinks maybe the effects of the tadpole are wearing off because he feels like he is burning alive. He fights the urge to take you right there in the flowers.

A couple minutes later, you look up at him again- that same fear in your eyes, but also some hope. After you realize he isn’t going to say anything, you speak again.

“I am not entirely sure why you have gravitated towards me, but I really like you. I understand if you don’t feel the same way and we can just go back to being friends,” you pause, “and you won’t lose my protection. I still intend on helping you be free of Cazador once and for all.”

You look away from him, hands fiddling with the flowers. Astarion is still digesting everything you just said to him.

It wasn’t that he didn’t reciprocate your feelings (even if he refuses to admit he does), he just doesn’t… deserve someone like you.

He had always been under the assumption that monks were stuffy and by-the-book. You had taken him by complete surprise. You are slyly funny, have no problems with bending the rules if it means helping someone (he doesn’t care for the intent of bending the rules, but he likes bending the rules), and you are accepting. You aren’t neutral with your feelings unless you are trying to mediate an argument or make the best decision for the group.

He appreciates how blunt you are in private- he never has to try to guess what’s on your mind. You make him feel safe like no one else has for the last 200 years.

How could I not gravitate towards you?

It also occurs to him that you have never seen yourself- how your eyes twinkle when you smile or the dimples that grace your cheeks. You hadn’t even seen your body- the same body he was starstruck by and, despite the dissociation and icky feelings, he was able to enjoy the sex between you to some extent.

He gets up from his spot on the ground next to you- your shoulders slightly slumping in defeat.

“Oh stop being so dramatic darling,” he teasingly smiles at you, “get up- I have something to show you.”

***************************************

You blindly follow Astarion to his tent- you had asked him what he wanted to show you the entire walk back, but he refused to disclose that information.

Once you were in camp, Astarion had wrapped some cloth around your eyes before dragging you in the direction of his tent.

“Now you stay right here- don’t move a muscle.”

“Oh you mean like-“

He interrupts you by swatting your hand away from his curls. You pout playfully and he pulls you to his chest before kissing you deeply. You are shocked by his actions and his gasp of surprise tells you he is just as shocked too. You feel him pull back as you start to melt against him, your hands tangled in his hair. An impatient whine escapes your lips. He chuckles.

“No, no, no,” he says, “not yet. Now stay still or there’s no more kisses for you.”

“No more kisses!?”

“You heard me!”

You stay still- the threat is more than enough to convince you to stop. You can hear and sense Astarion rustling around the tent, placing various objects of different vibrations all around his tent. It feels like it takes eons as he readjusts and moves the objects around. Finally, Astarion hums with approval.

“Alright darling, you can take the blind fold off now.”

You take off your blindfold eagerly and your eyes adjust to the warm light in the tent. As you look around, you see that Astarion had set up every mirror he owns all around the tent.

Mirrors.

You stare back at who you can only presume to be yourself. You take in all your features- dissecting yourself. The longer you stare at yourself, the unhappier you become.

You know that Astarion’s intent is good (or you hope it is), but you can’t help the frown that takes place on your face. You are so plain in comparison to Astarion and everyone in camp. Why would he want to be with you when he could have someone as stunning as Shadowheart? Someone equally as interesting to look at?

“What’s wrong,” Astarion says with alarm in his voice.

You suddenly become aware of the hot tears running down your cheeks as Astarion cups your face with his hands. You shake your head, crying harder as he wipes your tears away.

“Darling, please.”

The desperation in his voice causes you to finally meet his eyes, the words tumbling out of your mouth before you can stop them.

“ I’m so plain looking,” you state with venom in your voice, “the rest of you are all beautiful in unique ways and I just look like everyone else.”

He scowls, shaking his head at you.

“That is not even slightly true.”

He twirls you around in his arms and has you facing the mirrors again. You have to remind myself that he is behind you still as you feel his fingers trace the details of your face (it would really ruin the moment if you elbowed him in the ribs).

“No one shines like you do. No one smiles like you or laughs like you- crinkles their eyes when they are happy like you. You are funny and intelligent; and by the Gods you are powerful. The fact that you have been fighting blind this whole time is absolutely incredible. You, darling, are a force of nature,” he puts his face in the crook of your neck, kissing the delicate skin, “I may say a lot of honeyed words, but I wouldn’t say them if they weren’t true.

“And, in all my 200 years of living, I must say, you are like no beauty I have ever seen before.”

You can’t help but smile brightly and you try to look at yourself the way he sees you. Maybe you can see the person he is referring to, but you just need more time to get used to actually seeing yourself. Maybe with time, you will be able to see how brightly you shine too- you’ll just have to work at it.

You smile at yourself softly and say a quiet you’re wonderful to yourself before looking away from the mirrors.

You turn around and give Astarion a soft, long kiss- he sighs into it, meeting your tempo until you pull away; Breathless like a fish out of water. He puts his forehead against yours, looking into your eyes.

“Thank you, Astarion- I think you shine too.”

[soulofapatrick]

Never Letting You Go - Pedro Pascal x Reader/OC part 2

Summary: Part two of Behind The Scenes. honestly just pure unfiltered smut. Perfect Date is part three

Words: 2k

Warning: pure smut

Y/N’s POV

The trailer door slams shut behind us, Pedro not even making it to the bed before he’s slamming his lips to mine, my back hitting the wall and my legs tighten even more around his waist. Somewhere in the back of my mind I’m impressed with how strong he is, able to easily hold me up with not so much as a break of sweat. It turns me on even more, my mind melting with the amount of love Pedro’s showing me. His lips have trailed down to nip and bite at my neck, tongue soothe every twinge of pain and my head is falling back against the wall in pleasure and he hasn’t even begun to touch me properly yet. 

He lets out a groan when I tangle a hand in his hair, tugging and the sound goes straight south, “Fuck, Pedro,” 

“Wait, wait,” He detaches his lips from my neck, pulling back enough to see me, “We’re doing this in the wrong order. I want to take you on a date. I want to prove to you how much-“ 

“Pedro,” I silence him, unbuttoning my shirt as I speak, so fucking glad I decided on the purple lacy bra I chose this morning with the way his eyes darken even more at the sight, “We will do all of that but right now.” I guide one of his hands up to cup my breasts, “I want you to ruin me.” 

“Shit,” He breathes, watching as I unclasp my bra, helping me throw it to the floor. I can’t help the blush or the sudden feeling of self-consciousness as I realise I’m completely exposed to the man I’ve had a crush on since forever, “So fucking pretty mama,” He’s mumbling more to himself that me as he surges forwards, catching a breast in his mouth. The spark of pleasure has my grip on his curly hair tightening as his teeth punish the nub before he swaps to the other, grip tightening on me at every sound that escapes my lips. 

Pedro’s setting my feet down, crowding my body with his as he finally pulls away, face oh so close to mine as he watches me. His fingertips trail down my stomach, leaving goosebumps in their wake until he’s dipping under the waistband of my jeans. A thigh forced between my legs as the button on my jeans pops open and my eyes flutter shut when I feel those long fingers pressing against the cotton of my underwear. 

“You gonna be a good girl?” His voice is low, teeth nipping at my jawline and I just nod, not trusting my voice. I’m barely breathing as his hands begins moving, causing a whimper to fall from my lips and my head to fall forwards onto his shoulder. It’s been forever since anyone has touched me like this and the fact it’s Pedro makes it ten times hotter and harder to keep myself together. 

“P-please baby,” My voice breaks and without warning Pedro is yanking my jeans and underwear down in one quick move. It has me gasping, having the capacity to know to kick them both aside and try not to think about how I’m naked in front of the Pedro Pascal who is currently teasing me mercilessly with a knowing smirk on those oh so kissable lips. I’m gripping the back of his neck and yanking him into a hot and heavy kiss, not caring if we clash teeth or our noses bump, just wanting to feel the way he groans my name. 

It’s unfair he’s the one still fully dressed so I’m yanking at his shirt and he gets the hint, breaking the kiss to let his shirt join the ever growing pile of clothes. Before I can worship his bare chest a finger is being pushed through my folds and I’m gasping, head thumping back against the wall. There’s already a knot forming in my stomach at the look on his face as his tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip before he’s going back to marking my jawline and his finger begins to move. I’d promise this man anything, as long as he keeps going the way he is, making me malleable to his every touch. 

“Pedro,” I don’t know what I’m begging for but he seems to know because a second finger joins the first one. Oh fuck. He begins curling them and I have to bite my lip from being too loud as the knot in my stomach grows into a familiar coil. 

“No, no baby, I want to hear you,” His thumb from his free hand pulls my bottom lip from between my teeth before he’s kissing me again, fingers slamming into me almost painfully but I don’t care because the coil is becoming almost unbearable. 

“P-pedro, I’m… fuuuuckkkk.” I tighten around his fingers, face falling into the crook of his neck as I come with shaking legs and the corners of my vision whiting out as he helps me ride out the high, “Fuck me, that-“ 

“Yeah,” Pedro laughs breathlessly, fingers gone and leaving me empty as he has to hold me up because my legs are shaking too much for me to trust myself, “Can you go again mama?” 

“N-not standing,” It draws another laugh from him and he’s guiding me to the bed, laying me down and climbing over me. His body fits perfectly against mine as if we were made for each other which is a really fucking cliche thing to think because that stuff is-

“Shit, pretty girl,” He groans, head falling to my shoulder as he slides in, bottoming out. It’s almost too much, too sensitive, too spend but the sounds that leave his lips has those thoughts dissipating immediately. He thrusts at such a slow and passionate pace that has my hips raising to meet his, eyes slipping shut at the beauty of the moment, “Never let me go, could live in this pretty little cunt, oh fuck, so perfect-“ He whispers against my lips, drawing my pliable body into a kiss as another wave of heat rushes through me. 

“Pedro,” I whine, feeling that pooling building again and it’s building quickly. 

“I know baby, I know,” He practically murmurs, the rhythm becoming sloppy and a hand tangles in mine. Every action full of love and passion despite the situation and it makes my heart fill and want for this to never end. Just stay here with me and Pedro joined together forever. 

He doesn’t grunt and groan when he cuts but more lets out soft sounds of pleasure, gasping for air and he stills, eyes slipping shut. The look of pure bliss on his face has my joining him, squeezing around him and heels wrapped around his waist pulling him even deeper if that was even possible. 

“Fuck, darling,” He practically flops on top of me, face buried in the crook of my neck and arms holding me, “We’re going on a date tomorrow morning.” He mumbles, eyelids fluttering against my skin before he rearranges us so we’re cuddling. 

“Fine my me.” 

“Good, I’m never letting you go now mama.”

[borathae]

“They were brothers brought together by tragedy and best friends separated by destiny. Seokjin, now freed of his Raven mark and unaware of his little brother’s whereabouts, visits the Queen’s castle with promises of healing the other freed Ravens. Jungkook, now living his life as the Queen’s Consort and uninformed of Seokjin’s fate, doesn’t know that today will be the day he will finally reunite with his bigger brother.”

Pairing: Best Friends!Jungkook x Seokjin | Seokjin x f.Reader OC 1 | Jungkook x f.Reader OC 2

Genre: Fantasy!AU, Slice of Life, Childhood Best Friends!AU, Found Family!AU, Royalty!AU, Queen Consort!Jungkook, Healer!Seokjin

Warnings: there is plot hehehe, they're best friends who got separated only to reunite again!!, they're like brothers, they share & talk about past trauma, hinted child abuse (they experienced it), but more than anyhing this is so healing and soft and lovely, Jungkook shows Seokjin the castle and Seokjin is all like "my lil bro is royalty now <3", they love each other so much like you guys they're brothers!!, they also bicker in typical jinkook fashion <3, i love this story so much you guys

Wordcount: 11.1k

a/n: because this is based on (and set after) their main stories, the boys each have a female lover which i won't name here because in their main stories it's supposed to be the reader but as a different OC each, you get me? i know you do. if you don't, just read their stories and come back to this. okay then, enjoy besties! istfg i love this universe so much :(

𓄿 Index 𓄿

Seokjin is nervous. It was his idea and yet he is still terribly nervous. He hasn’t been back in the castle since he climbed the walls and fled. It has been thirteen full moons since then and also thirteen full moons since he found his true destiny. She is with him today, because she will do most of the talking and work while he will assist her. She found him washed up by the riverbank next to her house and took him in. He was lucky because she was a healer – the trusted healer of the Queen even – and despite his past, she nurtured him until he felt whole again. His past, Seokjin aches in guilt when he thinks about it, is also the reason why he felt so nervous about today despite it being his idea.

He was a Raven once. A Raven of the Black Forest. The Ravens are a group of young boys and men poisoned by the twisted worldviews of their cruel leader Rafkan. He is one of the Nïuri, a peaceful people which use their immortality to nurture the earth, but not Rafkan as he uses his immortality to ruin young boys’ futures and kill innocent people. A black tattoo of a raven brands the members of Rafkan’s group and lets everyone know that the wearer was unlucky enough to fall into Rafkan’s hands.

Seokjin thankfully escaped his claws and managed to free himself of the marks which once ruined his chest.

The reason for today’s visit to the Queen’s castle was based on this exact mark. Most Ravens didn’t want to get tattooed. Most were not older than five when Rafkan drilled the tattoo deep under their skin, ignoring their screams of pain and cries for mercy. Seokjin still remembers how he screamed and cried as the thick needle repeatedly punctured his skin. He was seven.

With the help of Seokjin’s true destiny and forever partner, he was able to rid himself of the mark and he wants to grant the same opportunity to his fellow freed Ravens. It is well known in the Queendom that the Queen’s castle serves as refuge for many Ravens, who were lucky enough to escape Rafkan’s poisoned grip. Although Rafkan still tells his boys that the Queen and her late mother kill Ravens for sports, it isn’t the truth. Ravens get a second chance at the castle. They are free to stay in her castle and they are free to leave to wherever they crave to go. Seokjin could have stayed as well and he could have left if he wanted to, but back then he was still too stubborn to see that. So he fled in the dark of the night, swearing to himself never to return to the castle.

And now he is back. He is back at the place he swore never return to, but he isn’t guilty, he is just so very nervous. What if his idea fails? What if the marks of his freed brothers won’t fade? Seokjin watched it with own two eyes as his love removed it from his chest and yet he is scared that somehow the healing spell won’t work today.

There are also other worries plaguing him. He worries that he won’t be welcome at the castle anymore. That he will be captured and thrown into prison. His love assured him that this won’t happen, as she knows the Queen to be of very forgiving nature, but Seokjin was still nervous. He has been clutching his love’s hand ever since the castle gates came into view.

“Don’t be scared, my dearest”, she tells him, giving him a reassuring smile.

“I know, but I truly am. I do not want to be thrown into prison”, he says.

“There is no reason for that. Yes, you left in secrecy, but if the queen sees that you used your freedom to find happiness and a purpose, she will be happy”, she says and pulls him closer, “you will be alright, my dearest. And perhaps if we are lucky, Jungkook will be there as well.”

Seokjin smiles at the mention of his lost brother. He is happy, but he also aches. This is the last worry which plagues him and which makes it difficult for his heart to beat normally.

What if Jungkook wasn’t in the castle? What if he is still caught in Rafkan’s fangs? What if he didn’t find freedom? What if he died?

Seokjin spent his night sleepless and repeating the worrying questions over and over again. He is so scared. So, so scared that today’s journey will bring news of grief for him.

The Queen knew of the healer’s visit to the castle. She sent a letter a week ago, telling her that she had a cure for the Raven mark and that she can offer her services to the freed Ravens living in the castle. The Queen instantly agreed and sent word to all neighbouring villages that whoever wanted to rid himself of his marks may do so in one week. The halls and courtyard are buzzing in life. Ravens, who haven’t seen each other in years have come to the castle, celebrating their near future of true freedom. The emotions were high and food was plenty.

Jungkook has been excited all day. He was the first to know of the healer’s arrival. The letter met his love at night when they were already in bed, getting ready for sleep. She opened it next to him and then began crying in happiness.

“What’s the matter, my destiny?” Jungkook asked her back then, feeling worried until she told him of the good news and Jungkook joined her in her tears of happiness. Being freed of the mark was all he dreamt of ever since he escaped Rafkan and in a week he will finally make his dream a reality.

Today was finally the day. The healer will arrive any second now and Jungkook will finally be free. Truly and visibly free. He has been spending his day talking to all his fellow Ravens. Many still lived in the castle and became his friends, but many came from the villages and towns and felt more like distant relatives to Jungkook. Today however they all felt connected and high in spirits.

Jungkook has already drunk two mugs of mead and ate way too much of the flavourful pork belly. He feels overjoyed, but also very needing of the bathroom.

He excuses himself from the courtyard to hurry inside.

“My starlight, there you are”, the Queen - and his fiancée - greets him inside, taking his hands, “I looked everywhere for you.”

“Forgive me, I was in the courtyard talking to all of my brothers.”

Jungkook gives her a kiss on the cheek because he loves her a lot. She leans into the kiss with her fingers squeezing his hands.

“Don’t apologise. I merely wanted to tell you that the healer and her apprentice will be here soon. Our warriors saw them coming up the roads.”

“Really? Oh heavens, I need to hurry up then”, Jungkook says, slipping his hands out of his finacée’s loving hold.

“Why? What are you doing?”

“I need to relieve myself. I drank too much and my bladder is going to burst.”

“Oh heavens, well”, she chuckles, “hurry up then, you precious boy you”, she says and gives his butt a gentle pat as if too speed up his steps.

“I will, worry not”, Jungkook says and hurries away in hasty steps.

He will reach the toiletries in time with the healer and Seokjin arriving at the castle. He will be relieving himself as the Queen welcomes them with smiles and music. And he will wash his hands thoroughly as the healer and Seokjin set up their healing station and the Ravens begin lining up for their freedom. He doesn’t know of Seokjin yet.

Truly, it is such an awful twist of fate that Jungkook’s bladder decided to give up mere seconds before Seokjin entered the courtyard. The dark haired healer scans his eyes over the dozens and dozens faces, hoping to see the face of his brother in them. He knows most of the Ravens gathered here and the joy of seeing them is grande, but none of them was Jungkook. Jungkook was special to Seokjin. Jungkook was like a little brother to Seokjin. 

Only five years younger than Seokjin and with fear in his big eyes, Jungkook became a Raven when Seokjin was ten years of age. Jungkook hid the moment Rafkan and the older Ravens left him at the camp to hunt for food. Jungkook refused to come out of hiding for hours. Even when dinner was promised, he didn’t leave his hiding spot, which ended in Rafkan punishing him for “ignoring his body’s needs”.

Seokjin and the other boys always had to watch when one of them was punished and Jungkook’s punishment was no exception. Seokjin always felt terrible when he watched his fellow young brothers cry because of what Rafkan did, but there was something about Jungkook crying that night which hit Seokjin especially hard. The poor, frightened boy hid again the second the punishment was finished and only his small, pained sobs were heard in the camp. The other boys were too frightened to check up on him, but Seokjin was overtaken with a sense of protectiveness and so he crawled under the thorny bushes Jungkook was hiding in and offered the younger boy a hug. Jungkook didn’t want to take it at first, but all it took was one smile from Seokjin and he fell into his arms and cried his broken heart out.

Ever since that night, Seokjin and Jungkook shared a special bond and a deep, honest love. They hugged each other when they were sad or scared or in pain, they shared every meal with each other, shared blankets when the nights were cold, shared laughter when the days weren’t as dark and shared every stage a young boy goes through as he grows into a man. They would have shared adulthood as well, but Seokjin decided to leave to kill the Queen and till this day he regrets leaving without Jungkook.

Their last conversation ended in anger and hurtful words. Rafkan managed to influence Jungkook and poison his mind. Seokjin never truly allowed the poison to take hold of him and wanted to use the opportunity to flee together from Rafkan. So he told Jungkook of his plans and had to realise that his younger brother met it with anger and resentment. They fought, Jungkook called him hurtful things and Seokjin left without Jungkook. Until this day, Seokjin regrets that he left that night, that he didn’t try harder to convince his little brother and that he left even when the last words they shared were of angry nature.

If Seokjin has to realise that Jungkook wasn’t at the castle or that he had already died, he won’t ever forgive himself and he might never truly be himself again.

Seokjin shifts in his seat restlessly. He and his love have already healed ten Ravens of their marks and yet he still hasn’t spotted Jungkook. He asked each of them if they knew of Jungkook, but most were too old to know of him. They must have been Ravens before their time. Perhaps the Queen’s mother rescued them when she was still alive.

The Queen hasn’t come back either. She excused herself once she exchanged a few friendly words with Seokjin and his love and hasn’t returned since. Seokjin grows worried that she had went to get her warriors. After all, she looked at him as if she saw a ghost and then spoke of needing to go.

Seokjin keeps scanning the crowd for warriors out to get him and for Jungkook. Truly, he might need to excuse himself to the toiletries soon for his stomach keeps twisting in nervousness.

He sees the Queen then. She is hurrying over the courtyard with a man by her side. His face is shielded from his vision, but he can see that she is holding his hand. Seokjin gulps. He can’t explain it, but he feels uncomfortably nervous all of a sudden. Anxious even.

“Hello.”

One of the freed Ravens drags his attention away. He sits down in front of him and presents his bared chest to him.

“You have no idea for how many years I dreamt of ridding myself of this cursed mark”, he says.

“Oh, I know how you feel”, Seokjin says and begins spreading the purple cream on the man’s chest, “what’s your name?”

“Bartholomew.”

Seokjin gasps, looking at him with widened eyes.

“Bartholomew?”

He laughs, “you didn’t recognize me, did you? I blame the good food in the castle. I eat wonderfully these days”, he says and slaps his belly as a happy laugh shakes his shoulders.

“I didn’t recognize you. You look so healthy”, Seokjin says and bites back tears, “I can’t believe my eyes. You survived.”

“As did you, sweet boy”, Bartholomew says and caresses Seokjin’s cheek, “you look healthy, my boy.”

“I am. I am so healthy and I’m in love”, Seokjin says, sending his love a chaste look.

Bartholomew smiles, “this is good. Yes, love makes the life sweet. I’m in love as well. His name is Derrec. He’s a weaver in town and we met as I shopped for fabrics.”

“This is so wonderful. Oh, I am so happy for you”, Seokjin says and pulls his hand back, “you can go to my love and she will activate the magic. Your mark will be gone once you wipe the cream.”

“Oh, I can’t believe that I can still witness this day”, Bartholomew says and stands up from his chair.

“Bartholomew?” Seokjin calls his attention one last time.

“Yes, Seokjin?”

“Did you…” gulps in nervousness, “did Jungkook come here?”

“Jungkook?” Bartholomew says and widens his eyes, “my sweet boy, you do not know yet?”

“Know what?” Seokjin jumps off his chair, “what happened to him? P-please what happened?”

Bartholomew shifts his eyes to his side. Seokjin follows his line of sight and feels hit in shock.

The Queen is before him and the man holding her hand is Jungkook.

“Brother”, he presses out as his eyes fill with tears.

“Brother”, Seokjin gets out and sobs, “are you real?”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously and sobs.

“Jungkook….”

“Seokjin….”

Seokjin rounds the table, Jungkook breaks away from his fiancée. They fall into each other’s arms, crying miserably as they tighten the hug as best as their bodies allow it. Seokjin forgets all about the cream on his fingers, smearing it into Jungkook’s hair as he holds his little brother closer. Jungkook doesn’t care about the state of his hair as he sobs into the crook of Seokjin’s neck and cradles the back of his older brother’s head.

“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry for everything I said that night. I’m so sorry”, Jungkook wails.

“It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m not angry. Oh, I’m sorry for leaving you. I’m so sorry, I never should have left”, Seokjin cries.

“It’s okay. I’m not angry at you. Not anymore. Seokjin”, Jungkook sobs and pulls him closer, “oh Seokjin, you’re real. I love you so much.”

“I love you too. Oh Jungkook, my brother”, Seokjin sobs and turns his head to kiss Jungkook’s ear. It is the first thing his lips grazed and Jungkook leans into the kiss as a sob and laugh leaves him at the same time. Seokjin laughs with him just as much as he sobs.

All his worries turned out to be exactly that. Worries. Jungkook is alive. He is well. He is free. And he is finally by his side again. Seokjin has his little brother back.

He has to take a step back and cradle Jungkook’s face. The latter leans into the touch. His face is contorted in sobs, but the happiness practically bounces off of him. Seokjin mirrors his state, rubbing his thumbs over Jungkook’s teary cheeks over and over again.

“You’re real”, he gets out, “and you look so healthy. Oh Jungkook, you look so healthy.”

“You look healthy too”, Jungkook answers him, cupping his cheeks, “brother, your cheeks are actually soft. Not fallen in from hunger.”

“As are yours”, Seokjin squishes Jungkook’s cheeks, “are you eating well? Are you warm? Can you sleep in peace?”

Jungkook nods his head vigorously, “yes, yes. Yes to everything. And you? Are you living well?”

“Yes, oh yes I am.”

Jungkook whimpers and smiles, spilling tears.

“I’m so happy”, he confesses in a squeaky voice.

“Me too. Come here”, Seokjin says and pulls him back into a tight hug.

Jungkook squeaks in laughter, hugging him back. The two men stumble as they hug, painting a little circle with their feet as if they were dancing. Their bodies were filled with too much happiness. Only moving around could help them relieve it. 

It is Jungkook who breaks the hug, holding Seokjin’s cheeks.

“Did you become a healer? Is that your destiny?”

“Yes. Yes it is. Oh Jungkook, I am so happy and I’m in love.”

Jungkook’s eyes lighten up, “you are?”

“Yes. Jungkook, please meet my love”, Seokjin says and turns his little brother to his love. He tells him her name and Jungkook repeats it with a smile.

“I know you. My fiancée talks greatly about you and I truly love your bathing oils when the sickness season arrives”, Jungkook says, bowing his head at her.

“Oh thank-”

“Your fiancée?!” Seokjin falls into her words accidentally for Jungkook’s confession shocked him greatly, “you found love as well? Who is she?”

“That would be me”, the Queen says and for just a moment, Seokjin feels unable to speak. He gawks at the Queen, knowing that it was rude to do so, but he couldn’t help himself. 

“What?” he gets out and parts his lips.

The Queen smiles fondly, while Jungkook lets out a giddy giggle.

“Yes, you heard correctly. We are soon to be married”, he says and hugs her waist as he squishes his cheek against hers, “she asked me to be her husband a month ago and I said yes. We ought to marry in autumn, but don’t spread the news yet. We want to announce it soon.” 

“I do not know what to say. Jungkook”, Seokjin steps closer, “my dearest Jungkook, you are engaged and, and. And you’re marrying the Queen?!”

“Yes. Yes, I am”, Jungkook giggles.

“Oh Jungkook”, Seokjin tears up, “I am so happy for you.”

“Don’t cry”, Jungkook says even if his own eyes are glassy. He lets go of the Queen to take Seokjin’s hands instead, “it was you who made it possible. If you hadn’t left that night, I never would have left as well and I never would have found my destiny.”

“What do you say? I barely did anything.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “I volunteered to leave because I wanted to find you”, he confesses and tears up, “I was frightened without you, I regretted our last night together and I was scared that I would never see you again, so I volunteered to be the next to leave so I could look for you. I am sorry that I never found you.”

“Jungkook….”

“Seokjin”, Jungkook breathes.

“Oh my little one”, Seokjin says and cradles Jungkook’s cheeks. Jungkook leans into his touch with sparkly, half-lidded eyes, “you do not apologize to me. Please, allow me to get rid of your mark. It is the least I can do to repent for leaving you that night.”

“I dreamt of this day. I dreamt of ridding myself of the mark”, Jungkook confesses. 

“And it will become reality soon. Sit. Sit right here and I will free you.” 

Jungkook allows Seokjin to sit him down on a chair and because it was Jungkook, Seokjin sits him down on his chair behind the table. He prepares the cream while Jungkook unbuttons his expensive tunic. 

The Queen is by his side, caressing his shoulder. Jungkook places his hand over hers’, looking at Seokjin with his chest bare.

“Are you nervous?”

“No. I can’t wait for it.”

“It will become very warm. Hot almost.”

Jungkook squeezes the Queen’s hand, “I can take it”, he says with a smile. 

Seokjin moves his fingers closer to Jungkook’s chest. He is trembling. Jungkook meets his eyes 

“Are you nervous?” he asks Seokjin.

“I am.”

“Why?”

“I am frightened that it won’t work all of a sudden.”

“I am certain that it will”, the Queen throws in with warmth in her eyes.

“Yes, me too”, Jungkook agrees and smiles, “I trust in your abilities and that of your love”, he says and looks at the healer with a smile.

One she retorts. Work at the table has stopped ever since Jungkook arrived here. Everyone understood. Not only because Jungkook was soon to be Queen Consort and therefore important, but also because the emotional reunion between two separated brothers moved many Ravens to tears. They shared their emotions well. Some knew exactly how such a reunion feels like, while others still wished for the experience. 

The Ravens closest to the table are watching as Seokjin spreads the purple cream on Jungkook’s chest. 

“It is done”, he says and turns to his partner, “my world, may you do the rest, please?”

“Of course”, she says and stands up. She bends down in front of Jungkook, meeting his eyes. 

Jungkook spots warmth and comfort in her eyes. He understands why Seokjin loves her, because goodness surrounds her. Seokjin has always had a good heart, of course he would fall for someone with a kind heart. 

“May I?” she asks.

Jungkook turns his head to look at his fiancée. She smiles, squeezing his shoulder gently. Jungkook retorts her smile and looks back at the healer.

“Yes.”

With his consent, she hovers her hands over his chest and whispers ancient words of healing. The cream begins heating up on his chest. 

“Oh?” he lets out, furrowing his brows in surprise.

“Is it bearable? It will still get hotter”, she makes sure.

“Yes, it’s just really warm”, Jungkook says and shifts. The Queen gives his shoulder little caresses of encouragement, “oh. Oh, it’s getting very warm. Oh, it feels really hot.”

“You are almost done”, Seokjin says and holds his hand, “you are very brave.”

Jungkook forgets all about the discomfort and looks at Seokjin. The familiarity of those words. It tightens his throat in emotion. Seokjin said them to him countless times before when they were children and Jungkook needed comfort. When he woke after a nightmare about his dead parents and cried in Seokjin’s arms, he always whispered them to him. When he hid and sobbed after a punishment, Seokjin always found him and said them to him as he mended his wounds. When the Black Forest shook his body in fear and the two boys stayed with each other for support, Seokjin repeated them like a mantra until the monsters didn’t feel so scary anymore. They fell often between the two boys and yet they never lost their meaning. Jungkook missed hearing them and in this moment he feels as if he could do anything.

“It is done.”

“Really? Already?” 

Seokjin nods his head.

Jungkook looks at the piece of cloth Seokjin offers him.

“Wipe the cream away.”

Jungkook slips his hand from the Queen’s loving hold and accepts the cloth. He looks at his own chest as best as possible and wipes at the cream. It is an easy task to remove it.

“No”, Jungkook gasps, tearing up, “the mark is gone”, he whispers and looks at Seokjin, “it is gone”, he gets out and looks at the Queen, “my mark is gone!”

“Truly?” she gasps and rounds him so she could look at his chest, “Jungkook”, she chokes out and cups his cheeks. She spills tears, “your mark is gone.”

“It is gone”, he repeats and cups her face. He stands up and pulls her into a kiss.

Seokjin turns away for now, wanting to be respectful. He closes in on his own love and rests his chin on her shoulder, hugging her waist gently. She rubs her hand up and down his lower back, resting her head against his’.

“We are doing something good here”, he whispers.

“We are”, she agrees and turns her head to give his lips a chaste kiss, “are you happy?”

“Yes”, Seokjin smiles a soft smile. The kind which lifts his cheeks, “I found Jungkook.”

“I know. I am so happy for you that I feel like crying.”

“Seokjin”, Jungkook interrupts their moment, “my mark is gone!”

Seokjin breaks away from his love and looks at Jungkook. The younger man is smiling brightly, bouncing on the spot.

“I know. How do you feel?”

“Free. I feel finally truly free.”

“You are.”

Jungkook laughs and falls around Seokjin’s neck, “we are free.”

“We are. We are free”, Seokjin agrees and hugs his little brother.

“You will all be free soon”, the Queen says to the waiting Ravens, “now come my friends and get your marks removed. We held up your freedom for too long.”

“We didn’t mind, my Queen!” one of the Ravens screams from the back. The others agree with nods of their heads and smiles on their faces.

The Queen claims the chair Seokjin sat in before and picks up the bowl of purple cream.

“Come now, come”, she calls the next Raven to the table.

“My Queen?” he seems confused, but she merely smiles at him.

“I am certain that Seokjin and Jungkook have lots of catching up to do”, she says, grinning at Seokjin and her fiance.

Jungkook nods his head, while Seokjin looks at her shyly.

“I will take over for Seokjin so he can talk to my starlight”, she explains and points at the chair opposite of her, “now sit down and receive your true freedom.”

“Yes, my Queen. Oh, I feel honoured”, he says with a giggle, “I am helped by the Queen. I will tell my Mahryon about it.”

“Yes? How is the sweet woman?”

“Same old, same old. She started…”

Their conversation dies out in their ears as Jungkook turns Seokjin to the healer.

“Can I steal him away?” he asks her.

“Of course. You two have lots of catching up to do.”

“Are you certain? I do not want to burden you”, Seokjin makes sure.

“I am certain. Go, my beloved. I have my friend helping me”, she says.

“Thank you so much”, he says and kisses her lips, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

“I promise to return him by nightfall”, Jungkook jokes, making her laugh.

She rubs his arm sisterly, “I am certain you will.”

He gives her one last grin then turns to Seokjin.

“Do you want to see my rooms?”

“Of course I do.”

“Come, follow me.”

The Queen and the healer watch as the two men hurry over the courtyard. They managed around half of the way when they watch Seokjin take Jungkook into a gentle headlock, which the younger man fights off with gentle punches into Seokjin’s side. The two men continue to stumble to the castle as they playfight each other. It is as if no time had passed between them.

“I am happy that they found each other again”, the Queen says.

“Yes, me too. Brighter days will be on the horizon for them.”

“Indeed, there will be.”

Jungkook turns, holding the golden door knob between his fingers. Seokjin is looking at him after having scanned the hallways. The castle hasn’t changed since the last time he was here. At least not what the eye can see, the heart can sense times of love in those hallways. Jungkook and his love must have filled them up day by day.

“Welcome to my chambers”, Jungkook says and opens the door. He steps inside the room. Seokjin follows, letting out gasps of utter bafflement. 

Jungkook closes the door and bounces as he rounds Seokjin.

“And? What do you think?” 

Seokjin doesn’t know where to look first. Jungkook’s room looks like a golden dream of riches and wealth. The stone walls were covered in oil paintings and hand-woven tapestry. One even showed Jungkook’s portrait in warm colours. Golden thread framed the portrait in shapes of ornamental flowers and leaves. The otherwise cold stone floors were covered in thick hand knotted carpets all held in shades of red, green and gold and warm furs truly managed to keep the cold from meeting the feet. Thick curtains framed the windows and the same fabric - it looked expensive - also served as curtains for Jungkook’s bed.

The bed was of impressive size. Made from the sturdiest of wood and with a canopy. Countless pillows covered the head end of the bed and a warm blanket was placed neatly over the mattress for later use. 

“I don’t know what to say. This is….”

“Do you like them? These are my chambers. I spend some time here, but I must confess that I spend more time in my fiancée’s room”, Jungkook explains and giggles, “I love to hold her as we fall asleep.”

“I understand you so well. I love to hold mine as well”, Seokjin says and continues to scan the room, “I can’t believe my own eyes…”

There is a fireplace in one corner of the room. A red chaise lounge asks to be used right in front of it and a small side table made of sturdy wood offers jugs of wines and meads. In another corner, a working table offered heaps of books and stacks of drawings. Jungkook seems to use it for art and studying. Sturdy bookcases were filled with books, art supplies and expensive trinkets and in handmade wall mount, Jungkook’s swords were presented.

“Do you like it? You are so quiet”, Jungkook asks, fumbling nervously.

“Because I am lost for words. All of this…it looks so…so expensive.” 

“It is. I think. She doesn’t tell me how much she spends on me”, Jungkook shies away, “I think it’s a lot.” 

Seokjin meets his eyes. Jungkook’s cheeks are flushed. Seokjin smiles.

“Good. You deserve all the riches in the world.” 

“Oh, uhm”, Jungkook flusters. He clears his throat, “I want to show you more. Look what I have.” 

Seokjin follows him past some sturdy curtains of red fabric into a spacious bathing room.

“This is bigger than both our bedroom and bathing room together”, Seokjin gasps, widening his eyes.

“It is so big, isn’t it?” Jungkook agrees with a laugh, “and look. In all these shelves I store my jewellery. She always gets me stuff, even though I never ask for them. I don’t store my clothing here because I have my own room for them and Bartholomew tells me that it is important to keep fabrics away from moist bathing air because of mould, but I like to keep my jewellery here because then I can come here and look at them.”

“This is just….wow…”

“Then over here is where I take care of my skin”, Jungkook says and sits down in front of his mirror table. He mimics applying cream on his face, pouting for it, “like this. And then I go like this and pat it in”, he says, slapping his own cheeks gently, “and then one of my servants brushes my hair or I have my love brush my hair. I really like it when she does that.”

Jungkook stands up and hurries to his bathing room chaise lounge. He lies down on it, stretching out his legs. 

“This is where I lie when I do a facial pack and someone massages my feet”, he sits up, “did you know that all of your body’s zones are connected to your feet and that by regularly massaging them, you become healthier?”

“I did. I learned about it during my apprenticeship”, Seokjin says.

“Isn’t it remarkable?” 

“It is”, Seokjin says and looks at the bathtub, “you even have a tub. You truly have everything, haven’t you?” 

“Ah yes, this is my tub”, Jungkook says, scrambling to his feet. He runs to it and slaps his hand on its edge. It makes a metal sound of impact, “I take baths with my love in here. We love to use your bathing oils.” 

“You do?”

Jungkook nods his head excitedly, “my favourites are vanilla and wolf lily. I think they smell really nice.”

“Thank you”, Seokjin says and lowers his head as he studies the bathtub. He strokes his hand over the edge.

Jungkook gnaws on his lower lip nervously, taking a small step closer.

“Do you not like it?” he asks quietly.

“No, no it’s not that”, Seokjin says, shaking his head.

“But?”

“I always wanted to have a bathtub.”

“Do you not possess one?” Jungkook gasps.

“No. Well, at least not yet. We are trying to save up as much as possible, but a good bathtub is expensive these days. We want one in which we both fit.” 

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Jungkook says and takes Seokjin’s hands so he can sway them excitedly, “I can buy you whatever bathtub you wish for.” 

“What? No”, Seokjin shakes his head, “no, you don’t have to do this.”

“I want to.”

“No, Jungkook no. This, this”, Seokjin exhales sharply, “these are your riches. I do not want to rob you of them.” 

“Rob me?” Jungkook snickers, “you could never rob me. You’re my brother”, he smiles sweetly.

Seokjin feels his heart warm at the sight.

“And I want you to possess the grandest, most luxurious bathtub in the whole Queendom. No”, he grins, “the whole continent.” 

Seokjin smiles, letting out a breathy chuckle of fondness. Jungkook snickers, scrunching his nose.

“Sooo? What say you?” he asks, nudging Seokjin’s chest as he wiggles his brows.

“You won’t accept a No either way, will you?” 

Jungkook shakes his head, smiling with his eyes so brightly, they sparkle.

“Fine”, Seokjin gives in, “fine, I’ll allow you. By Frenya, how should I bring the news to my love?”

“Tell her that your little brother wants to treat you”, Jungkook says and leads Seokjin out of the bathing room with an arm around his shoulder, “and that I find great happiness in the thought that I can make it possible that you and her share warm baths.”

“Oh Jungkook”, Seokjin says and sighs, “you truly grew up so much. Look at you and, and look at this room.” They are in Jungkook’s bed chambers again. It still feels like a dream of riches to Seokjin. “You deserve all of this. Yes, every single treasure in this room.” 

Jungkook leans his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, “thank you. Oh my brother, you’re so…” he turns and hugs Seokjin, “…I missed you so much.” 

“I missed you too, little one”, Seokjin says and rubs Jungkook’s back, “now I have to ask. Can you show me your clothing room?”

“You want to see?” Jungkook looks at him excitedly, “I didn’t know if I should ask, because I don’t want to seem as if I am boasting.”

“You aren’t. Please. Show me where you store your clothes.” 

“Okay, so follow me”, Jungkook says and skips to the door.

Seokjin follows him with a fond smile on his lips.

“You will really like the room. It has a mirror and a seat to relax on. Also, so many clothes”, Jungkook tells him excitedly.

“You never struck me as a clothing person.”

“I’m not. I’m really not, but my love likes to dress me up”, Jungkook says and giggles, “she always gets me the latest fashion and compliments me when I wear it, so I really like it that she does. And Bartholomew always makes me clothes in black. I really love black.”

“I know. You always did. It fits your skin tone so well.”

“Yes, I agree”, Jungkook says and opens the door next to his chambers, “now don’t judge me, but it is a little messy in here, because I needed to pick out an outfit for today. I didn’t have time to put my clothes away yet.” 

“Do not worry. I don’t judge.”

“Yes, well then. Come in”, Jungkook says and leads Seokjin inside.

“Jungkook, by Frenya”, Seokjin gasps, widening his eyes as the beauty of the room overwhelms him.

It is smaller than Jungkook’s bedroom and its walls are covered in ceiling high wardrobes all bursting in the finest of clothes. On one wall, more jewellery is presented and on the lower racks, Jungkook stores his shoes.

“It is unbelievable, isn’t it?” Jungkook says and laughs, “I always have to pinch myself when I realise what life I am living these days.”

“Understandable. You are living in dreams.” 

“Yes, I really am. Oh, I love it here so much”, Jungkook says as he is busy clearing the seat of his clothes.

“It is such an improvement to the Black Forest, isn’t it?” Seokjin asks.

Jungkook laughs, “yeah”, he agrees with a nod of his head, “it truly is”, he says and looks at himself in the mirror, “and now we are actually free of the mark”, he meets Seokjin’s eyes in the reflection, “aren’t we?”

“We are”, Seokjin says and smiles.

Jungkook retorts it, closing the distance between him and the mirror afterwards. He stops in front of it and opens his tunic. Seokjin watches him. Jungkook traces his chest. His fingers still know which paths to take to replicate the tattoo. His skin is unmarked however. Sunkissed and velvety just like the rest of his body and finally unmarked.

“It is truly gone”, Jungkook whispers.

“It feels unbelievable, doesn’t it?”

Jungkook nods his head.

“I know. I spent the first few days after the removal staring at my chest in disbelief.” 

“I will do the same. I cannot fathom that it is really gone”, Jungkook says and does a little twirl so he could sit down on the two-seater. He lets out a heavy sigh.

Seokjin sits down next to him, looking at him. He can sense that the emotion in the room changed, he can see it on Jungkook’s features as well.

“Do you remember how it felt?” Jungkook asks. 

“The removal?”

“No. Getting the tattoo.”

“Ah. Yes, I remember.”

“I wanted him to stop.”

“I know. I did too.”

“But he said that I had to keep going because I needed to be strong and make him proud. I wanted to make him proud.”

Seokjin studies the regret on Jungkook’s features.

“You were five of age and lost your parents. Of course you wanted to make him proud”, he says because he knows that Jungkook blames himself right now, “he was the adult taking up the role of a parent for your young mind, so do not blame yourself.”

Jungkook looks at Seokjin as if he hadn’t expected to hear such words of comfort and understanding. 

“Do not feel ashamed of it. Instead feel anger at Rafkan for giving you such a nightmarish parental figure to lean on.”

“It is hard not to feel shame. I never should have seen him as my father.”

“I know. It is easy to blame yourself, but don’t. You were a child. Every child needs parents. Do not blame your young heart for doing what every young heart would have done.”

Jungkook nods his head in understanding.

“I try not to think about everything he did for too long”, he confesses.

“Why?”

“It makes me feel helpless.”

“Helpless?”

“Yes. Helpless. Helpless because I feel so many emotions at once and it is as if I am drowning because not one of the emotions is good.”

“I understand how you feel. I felt the same as you and sometimes when the day is darker, those feelings return. I cannot tell you a cure to the helplessness because time healed me more than anything else, however I can offer you my shoulder to lean on.”

Jungkook leans in, resting his head on Seokjin’s shoulder just like he did a million times before. There were many nights in the Raven camps where Jungkook fell asleep with his head on Seokjin’s shoulder, while the older brother watched over him. The days after such nights were exhausting for Seokjin, but he never showed his tiredness to Jungkook even if Jungkook already knew. He felt guilty whenever it happened, but life back then exhausted him so much that oftentimes he didn’t realize that it was happening. 

Jungkook doesn’t feel guilty right now. He feels tranquil. His eyes are closed and his heart beats at a normal pace. Seokjin rests his head against Jungkook’s.

“You can always talk to me about what plagues you, Jungkook”, he speaks quietly, “I managed to heal as much as I did these days because I had my love listening to me. Does the Queen listen to your griefs?”

“She does. She helped me heal a lot, but I think….” Jungkook takes a shaky breath, “I think that there is still a lot to do. I feel so happy, but sometimes the memories come back. I think about everything he did and said and I look at them in a new light now that my mind is cleared of his lies and I get so inexplicably angry. Then I get sad. Heartbroken. And helpless. Does this happen to you? Are you sometimes doing something which brings you joy when suddenly the memories come back again?”

“Of course. This is how one heals from traumatic events.”

“Really? So I am not broken?”

“Of course you aren’t broken. You are doing everything right.”

Jungkook shakes his head, “I feel as if I could do more.”

“You are doing everything right. You are healing at the perfect speed.”

Jungkook inhales and it sounds steady.

Jungkook exhales and it sounds relieved.

“I missed you so much”, he whispers and throws his hand over his own eyes. 

Seokjin kisses the crown of Jungkook’s head.

“I missed you too.”

“You always know what to say.”

“I try to at least.”

Jungkook laughs. Seokjin laughs as well. Jungkook lifts his head and meets Seokjin’s eyes. Seokjin cups his cheek and wipes his tears. 

“I love you so much”, Jungkook whispers.

“And I love you, my little one”, Seokjin whispers and smiles.

Jungkook retorts it, “I feel as if all I do is cry. I promise I am not like this on normal days.”

Seokjin laughs, “you do not have to explain yourself. We are all humans with emotions. Today is an emotional day.”

Jungkook studies Seokjin’s features. He always knew that his big brother was wise and knowledgeable beyond his age even if he oftentimes hid his wisdom behind silly jokes. Jungkook could always rely on Seokjin and his words of wisdom were perhaps the reason why the Queen spotted goodness in his eyes all those months ago. Jungkook is certain that if he didn’t have Seokjin by his side, comforting him and guiding him secretly when Rafkan wasn’t looking, he would have become as rotten as some other devoted Ravens. It was Seokjin’s guidance and love which kept the goodness in Jungkook’s heart. He is certain of it. 

“I want to show you something”, Jungkook says.

“Yes? Show me.”

“We have to get to the woods for it. I know the way”, Jungkook says and stands up, “follow me.”

And so the two men hurry through the castle until they reached the courtyard again. The sun has travelled quite some distance on the sky as the two men chatted in Jungkook’s room. Their loves are talking to each other. Seokjin and Jungkook pay them a visit before they leave.

“I want to show Seokjin the Life Oak”, Jungkook says.

“Oh yes, please do”, the Queen says and smiles, “you will find great healing in this place, Seokjin.”

“I, uhm”, Seokjin doesn’t quite know what to say because it is still unbelievable to him that he is talking casually with the Queen. Yes, he did so before when he was her guest back then, but this is different. He is a free man and her people and his well-mannered heart tells him to speak respectfully. 

“Have fun, you two”, his love tells him and gives his hand a little kiss, “try not to stumble over roots. The tree fairies are especially naughty around the Life Oak.”

The Queen giggles, leaning into her friend, “indeed they are. Oh, how wonderful.”

The healer snickers, sharing in her laughter by touching her knee.

Jungkook and Seokjin soon bid their goodbyes with smiles on their faces, kissing their destinies on their lips because they loved them. 

“I still cannot fathom that you are to marry the Queen”, Seokjin says as he and Jungkook hurry to the gate leading to the woods.

“Me neither. I feel so lucky. She is too good to me”, Jungkook says and sighs dreamily, “I love her so much.”

Seokjin smiles, “it feels good to be in love, doesn’t it?”

“Yes. Oh yes, it does. My heart races all the time, I feel warm all over and when I listen to her talk, my tummy flutters.”

“I understand you. I feel the same with mine”, Seokjin says and sighs, “she is the most wonderful person. The first thing she taught me was how to read and write.”

“Yes? Oh, this is exciting. So you can read as well?”

“You too?”

Jungkook nods his head, “my love taught me. It was very difficult at first, but she told me that I learned insanely fast.”

“Of course you did. You are such a fast learner and you are good at everything.”

“That isn’t correct. I hate maths.”

Seokjin laughs. Jungkook joins him.

“I hate it as well. Frustrating business indeed.”

“Yes”, Jungkook agrees in snickers.

Seokjin retorts them. Their eyes meet seconds later. There is a certain emotion in the air. One which makes both men shy away. Jungkook is brave enough to break the silence.

“Did”, he begins, “did your love also teach you what…what bodies can do?”

“Maybe”, Seokjin confesses and blushes.

“Mine did too”, Jungkook confesses with his cheeks just as flushed.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

The two men giggle in coyness, drawing closer as they share in the naughty secret. 

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” Jungkook asks in a whisper.

“It does”, Seokjin whispers and covers his own eyes, “this is so embarrassing to talk about. Oh by Frenya.”

“Yes”, Jungkook agrees and covers his own ears as he scrunches his nose, “we’re such men these days.”

“Oh Jungkook, will you stop”, Seokjin whines and slaps his arm gently, “you are making me burn up.”

Jungkook giggles, burning up himself.

Jungkook knows the way to the Life Oak like he knows his way to the courtyard. He walks the paths regularly, finding healing in nature and the quiet of the forest. Seokjin feels the powers as well. Ever since he set foot into the dense forest, breathing feels easier to do.

It takes the young men around thirty minutes to reach their destiny. They spend the time greatly, talking and joking with each other every passing second. There wasn’t a second of silence between them as new stories of their lives came to their minds over and over again.

They grew silent however once they reached the clearing where the Life Oak fills the space with her presence. It happened naturally that the two men became silent. As if the Life Oak makes one do so.

“This is it”, Jungkook says quietly and closes the distance to the oak tree.

“This is it?” Seokjin whispers and steps closer to the oak, “it is…so tall. And beautiful. Why is it bleeding black…substance?”

“It’s not hurting. Not right now. Those are marks that She is happy. That She is crying tears of joy because Her earth is healthy.” 

“Her earth?”

Jungkook nods his head, “touch Her.”

Seokjin places his hand on the oak tree’s trunk, flinching back in shock.

“What?” he gasps, touching it again, “what is that? Why can I….I-I feel a heartbeat.”

“Yes”, Jungkook says and places his hand next to Seokjin’s, “this tree is life itself. She gives this Queendom nourishment and makes it live. She can talk to every plant, animal and nature itself through Her roots.”

“This is”, Seokjin blinks his tears away, “I don’t know what is happening”, he says and wipes his eyes, “oh by Frenya, why am I crying?

“It is okay to cry. I cried the first time as well”, Jungkook assures him, rubbing his upper arm gently, “it is overwhelming to touch life itself. Don’t hide it and let it happen.”

Seokjin sobs softly, lowering his face into his own palm. Jungkook touches his shoulder in comfort, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

“I am not sad. I just haven’t felt like this before”, he explains.

“This is normal, let it happen. Give Her a hug if you want to”, he tells him and because Seokjin is overwhelmed in life, he does. 

He hugs the ancient tree and he sobs as he does. His arms barely take up space on the thick trunk, but Seokjin still feels cradled. As if his mother was holding him and rocking him to sleep. The oak tree sings to him just like his mother would in the rustling of its leaves and croaking of its branches. 

“This is life itself, Jungkook. It has a pulse as if it was alive”, Seokjin gets out, “and, and it feels as if…as if…I can’t describe it.”

“As if you are hugged by your mother”, Jungkook says.

“Yes. Oh Jungkook, I miss my mother”, Seokjin sobs. 

“I miss my mother too”, Jungkook says and whimpers, “oh Seokjin, come here”, he chokes out and hugs his brother from behind, caging him in between the tree and his body. 

He rubs his hand up and down Seokjin’s tummy, resting his chin on Seokjin’s shoulder. 

“I’m here. You aren’t alone.”

And as they cry for their lost mothers, the Life Oak cradles them like Her sons, swaying Her branches and filling their hearts with new hope. Their mothers might have left the earth already, but She will always be there for them and in Her, their mothers will live on eternally. For every life form, no matter how small, will find its place in Her endless roots, Her never rotting foliage and Her countless branches. So in a way, as the two men hug Her for comfort, they are hugging their mothers.

“We still have each other”, Jungkook comforts him. 

“We do. Oh Jungkook, thank you for showing me this place. I haven’t felt such a hug in years”, Seokjin says and turns to cradle Jungkook’s cheeks, “it felt as if my mother was holding me.

“I know. She is beautiful, isn’t She? I come here and talk to Her often, I hug Her and find comfort in Her. I believe that our mothers are continuing to live through Her.” 

“I love this thought ”, Seokjin meets Jungkook’s warm gaze, “it is so beautiful and I can feel my mother. We can feel them, Jungkook.”

“We can”, Jungkook says and hugs him.

Seokjin hugs him back, combing his fingers through his hair.

“Thank you. Thank you for showing me this place”, he whispers.

“There is so much more to show you”, Jungkook whispers.

“There is?”

“Do you want to see?”

“Yes. Yes, of course I do. Oh Jungkook, please show me everything in your life.”

Jungkook steps back and gives Seokjin a loving smile before turning his back to him. He takes a deep breath and calls into the silence. Seokjin watches him with parted lips. 

Jungkook finishes his calls with a content sigh and his eyes glancing at Seokjin bashfully.

“What did you do?” Seokjin asks him.

“I called for them.”

“For who?”

The forest grumbles and cracks. The small trees and thick shrubs begin dancing. Seokjin inches closer to Jungkook in fear.

“Someone is coming”, he whispers.

“I know. It’s them.”

“Them?”

Woltron steps out of the shadows. His pack follows. They build a circle around Jungkook and Seokjin, growling deeply.

“What is that? Jungkook, we need to flee”, Seokjin gasps and tries to tug Jungkook away.

Jungkook stumbles and laughs, tugging Seokjin back.

“Don’t be frightened. They’re my friends.”

“Your friends? Jungkook, this is Woltron and His pack, he will eat us.”

“No, he won’t. Look”, Jungkook says and slips out of Seokjin’s tight grasp to walk to Woltron.

“Jungkook. No”, Seokjin gasps, reaching for him but grabbing air. He has to watch with horror as Jungkook places his hand on Woltron’s nose, “I can’t watch this”, Seokjin chokes out and squeezes his eyes shut.

There is silence for a few seconds, then Jungkook speaks all of a sudden.

“Open your eyes.”

Seokjin follows even if he is scared.

“What?” he gasps.

Jungkook is sitting atop of Woltron, carrying a smile on his face.

“They’re my friends”, he says and taps Woltron’s shoulder, “Woltron, this is my big brother Seokjin.”

Woltron closes the distance between him and Seokjin. Seokjin tries to stumble back, but collides with the nose of another wolf.

“Forgive me!” he squeaks and jumps away, which makes him collide with Woltron’s nose, “ah! Forgive me! Please, don’t eat me!”

Jungkook laughs, “calm down, brother. They don’t want to eat you. Take a deep breath and look into Woltron’s eyes.”

“But-”

“Trust me.”

Seokjin studies Jungkook’s features.

“Trust me”, the younger man repeats and smiles.

It gives Seokjin enough strength that he takes a deep breath and then meets Woltron’s piercing gaze. The wolf growls deeply, keeping Seokjin hostage. Seokjin trembles and shakes, forgetting all about breathing until Woltron breaks eye contact. The wolf lets out a low grumble and lifts his head. He turns his side to Seokjin.

“See? You’re their friend now as well”, Jungkook says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“Woltron and his pack are old gods. They have been on this continent long before humans lived on the lands. Woltron can look into people’s hearts and see their truest truth in them. He accepted you in His pack, which means your heart is good.”

“Good?” Seokjin gasps, “and if it wasn’t good? What would he have done then?”

“It doesn’t matter. I wanted to show you this place and introduce you to Him because I knew you were good. I also passed their test when I first came here and I only passed it because I had you secretly guiding me. You kept the good in my heart, so I knew that you would pass.”

“But if I hadn’t?”

Jungkook shakes his head, “this never would have happened, but if you hadn’t then Woltron would have eaten you.”

“What?!” Seokjin squeaks, “and you didn’t tell me? Jungkook, how dare you?!”

Jungkook snickers, “I didn’t tell you because I knew that you would have been way too scared. Now climb onto Eudora’s back and let me show you one last thing.”

“You are such a trickster. You didn’t change one bit”, Seokjin murmurs and turns his back to him.

The wolf whose nose he accidentally collided with, lowers herself so Seokjin could climb onto her back.

“Hello Eudora, will you bite me?” Seokjin says quietly, taking cautious steps closer.

Eudora stays quiet, watching Seokjin with half-lidded eyes. Her eyes are emerald green just like Woltron’s.

“She won’t bite. Trust Her”, Jungkook assures him.

“Don’t talk to me. I don’t trust you anymore”, Seokjin jokes, making Jungkook laugh, “okay, I am doing it. I am getting on your back, yes?”

Eudora stays still and allows Seokjin to climb on top. Once he is safely on top, she stands up, forcing Seokjin to squeak and twist bundles of her fur.

“This is so scary”, he squeals, “I’m sorry, oh heavens, eek.”

“Calm down, you are tugging her fur”, Jungkook laughs and reaches over to caress his shoulder, “don’t be too scared. You know how to ride a horse, don’t you?”

“Yes, but this is insanity. We are on top of gigantic wolves.”

“They’re such better runners. Ready?”

“What? Runners? Jungkook, what are you planning to do?”

“I will show you my favourite place.”

“What do you mean runners? Jungkook, talk to me”, Seokjin asks nervously.

“The wolves will bring us. Don’t worry, it will feel as if you are flying”, Jungkook assures him and pets Woltron’s back, “can you takes us to the plateau, Woltron?”

The wolf straightens his head and howls. His pack answers him.

“What is happening?” Seokjin yells over their howls, looking at Jungkook.

“Hold on tight”, he says.

“What? Eeek!” Seokjin squeals and falls to the front in a desperate attempt to hug Eudora as she takes off with her pack, “this is the scariest thing I have ever done!” he screeches while beside him, Jungkook squeals and squeaks in laughter.

He looks at his little brother and how happy he looks riding the giant wolf. His dark hair catches the wind, his clothes dance in it and his face is crinkled in laughter.

“This is so much fun!” he calls out and looks at Seokjin, “sit up, trust me.”

“I hate this! Why are you doing this to me? Ju-Ju-Jungkook”, Seokjin screeches.

“Sit up, trust me”, Jungkook laughs.

Seokjin sits up even if his heart was racing in fear. The wind makes his eyes tear up instantly and messes up his hair. He feels it on his skin and smells the freedom in the air.

“This is insane! Jungkook you rascal, this is insane!”

“No, this is freedom”, Jungkook calls out and lets go of Woltron to stretch his arms far away from himself. He closes his eyes and laughs loudly. 

Seokjin looks at the wolf under him. Her fur is reflecting the sunlight, glowing like ambers in a fire. He barely feels her movements, except her shifting muscles under her thick fur. 

The wind is dancing around them. The world feels so vast. Seokjin doesn’t feel as if he will fall off. He lets go of her fur and stretches his arms from his own body. It feels as if he is lifting off the ground. Freedom, Jungkook called it. This is freedom.

“Hah!” Seokjin lets out and looks at Jungkook. He laughs, “I’m riding a wolf!”

“I know! Isn’t it so much fun?”

“Yes!”

Jungkook laughs and holds onto Woltron again as the wolf speeds up. Eudora follows, speeding up with Seokjin on her back. Seokjin squeaks in laughter, throwing his head back as the world passes him in blurs of colour.

The wolves take the two giggling men all the way up the Snowy Mountains. They climb the steep stones easily and while Seokjin screeched and clutched Eudora in fear, Jungkook laughed and assured him that nothing will happen to them. And he was right. Except for wobbly knees and his nerves stretched thin, Seokjin arrives atop the plateau unharmed. He slides off of Eudora, colliding with the ground as he catches his breath.

“Hey, are you alright?” Jungkook gasps, jumping off of Woltron’s back. He kneels down in front of Seokjin, touching his arms, “what’s the matter?”

“This was insanity. We just climbed a mountain”, Seokjin gets out and wheezes for air, “I think I might pass out. Did this actually happen?”

Jungkook chuckles and strokes his hand down the back of Seokjin’s head.

“You did well. I know the first time is really frightening. I thought I soiled my pants the first time my love took me here.”

“You did?” Seokjin gets out and lifts his head to look into Jungkook’s eyes.

“Yeah”, he snickers, nodding his head, “but I promise you that it is worth it.”

“I truly hope it is because I think that I might have shat myself right now.”

Jungkook laughs, “you are fine. Now come on, I need to show you”, he says and helps Seokjin to his feet.

“You will kill me one day, I am telling you. I’m too old for such adventures.”

“You are twenty and six of age, brother. You are not too old”, Jungkook laughs as he leads him to the edge of the plateau.

Seokjin stumbles back, squeezing Jungkook’s hands.

“Jungkook, you madman what are you doing?”

“Don’t be scared.”

“This is so high.”

“I know, but don’t be scared. Look. We still have five steps to take before it becomes dangerous.”

“You”, Seokjin exhales deeply, “you have always been fearless. No, I have to sit down.”

Jungkook laughs, joining him on the ground. He stretches out his legs while Seokjin sits with his legs crossed.

“You are okay, brother”, he assures him.

“I guess. Oh, you made my heart race”, Seokjin says and sighs deeply, “first you tell me that a wolf god could have eaten me, then you make me ride on top of one and climb a mountain and now this. Do you want to kill me? My heart is too weak for all of this.”

Jungkook snickers, giving Seokjin a small look before he lets his eyes drift at the view before them. The Queendom lies before their eyes. The Black Forest in the far distance, the Singing River reflecting the sunlight and the Nourishing Fields as green phantoms in the distance.

“But I must say this view makes up for it”, Seokjin says.

“Doesn’t it?” Jungkook agrees, “my love tells me that this is the whole of the Queendom and even more”, he says.

“It is?”

“Yes. Look, the green in the distance are the Nourishing Fields. The river over there is the Singing River. These are the forests of the Castle, the Life Oak and my home and back there in the distance is the Black Forest”, Jungkook explains, pointing at everything so Seokjin could see.

“Wow”, Seokjin whispers, “so this is everything.”

“Yes it is and when you look beyond the Black Forest in the really, really far distance you can see the Glass Mountains.”

“Glass Mountains?”

“Yes, Glass Mountains. They’re a foreign queendom. Their lakes are emerald coloured and all their valleys are filled with trees with ruby coloured foliage. Their Queen fell in love with her warrior and possesses healing magic”, Jungkook explains and looks at Seokjin, “like your love. She can heal with just a touch.”

“Oh. Oh, no. My love can’t heal with a touch. The queen of the Glass Mountains must be a Mender.”

“A Mender?”

“Yes, Mender. They posses magic in their blood, which they can use to heal all wounds and aches. My love needs potions and creams to heal.”

“I see. Menders. I didn’t know about them yet”, Jungkook says and sighs in contentment, “it is so wonderful to learn. We were kept so blind to the world, weren’t we?”

“We really were”, Seokjin agrees, “but we are free.”

Jungkook touches his own chest. Seokjin does the same to his’.

“We’re free”, Jungkook whispers and smiles, “and we can learn all the knowledge in the world.”

Seokjin does the same, “indeed we can.”

Jungkook lifts his hand, pointing at the Queendom.

“Where exactly is your home?”

“I don’t know. I have never seen the queendom this way”, he says, “but I think it has to be around there”, he says and points at a forest in the distance. The Singing River digs its path close to it and a small town neighbours it.

“In this town?” Jungkook asks.

“No, through this forest. There is a clearing next to the river and we have our cottage there. The forest is filled with tree fairies which like to play tricks by growing roots in front of your feet or dropping acorns on your head.”

“Really?” Jungkook snickers.

“Yes, really”, Seokjin chuckles.

“And have you ever encountered such a tree fairies before?” 

“Indeed I have. One dropped snow on my head in winter and another grew a branch directly in front my face. I swallowed leaves that day.” 

Jungkook laughs, leaning back as he does. Seokjin joins him. Their heartfelt laughter echoes through the whole queendom. At least it feels like that to them as they sit and overlook everything as the mountains play catch with their voices.

“Ah this is so funny”, Jungkook says and sighs.

“Indeed it is”, Seokjin agrees and exhales in contentment. 

The two men dance their eyes over the endless view. And while Seokjin tries to take in everything as best as possible, Jungkook studies the area where his brother lives. It isn’t that far from the castle. He will be able to visit his brother often and in return, Seokjin can visit him as well. Jungkook feels his heart flutter in happiness at the thought.

“A cottage”, Jungkook whispers and sways from side to side as complete contentment fills his chest, “is it a nice home?”

“It is the best home I could have ever wished for. We grow flowers and herbs for our healing potions and in the warmer months, our garden is filled with vegetables and fruit we can eat”, Seokjin explains excitedly, “and we have chickens. They lay so many eggs that we can always have fresh eggs for breakfast. The river is always filled with fresh fish and sometimes we go to the market in town and buy meat, which will last us for days.”

“This sounds like a dream.”

“It is a dream. We even have a cat.”

“A cat? Really?” Jungkook gasps.

“Yes, really. His name is Kukuruz and we can talk to him.”

“What? Talk?”

“Yes, talk.”

“How?”

Seokjin lifts his arm, showing a delicate leather armband to Jungkook.

“There is a sorceress in town, who can make these animal talking bracelets and we each got one.”

“Wow”, Jungkook says, touching it gently, “and it works?”

“It does.”

“So you can understand Woltron and his pack?”

The two men look over their shoulders at the old god. He and his pack are slumbering peacefully behind them.

“No”, Seokjin turns back around, “no sadly, you can only choose one animal. We chose a cat.”

“I understand”, Jungkook looks back at the view, “it is still so amazing. I want to be able to talk to animals. I imagine that it must be so interesting.”

“I can tell you from experience that most conversation with Kukuruz are about him wanting more food.”

Jungkook laughs. Seokjin joins him.

“I see. Well, this does sound like what a cat would talk about most.”

“Yes, indeed.”

Silence replaces their laughter like sunlight replaces rain. It comes because it always follows and it feels natural. The two men looked forward to the silence like people look forward to sunlight after long rain. And as they share in the wonderful silence, they take in the views. Their world once reached to the borders of the Black Forest and not one step beyond and now they are sitting atop the Snowy Mountains, overlooking their freedom.

“Should we visit the Nourishing Fields together?” Seokjin asks.

“We could, couldn’t we?”

“We could.”

Seokjin drapes his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder. The younger man leans into him.

“Then we will.”

[sehtoast]

With Love to You, Thirty Years Later (Homelander x OC)

4k | time travel, angst, little homelander, adult homelander, graphic violence, hurt/comfort, spidersona oc | Fic Directory

benjamin would give the present if it meant soothing homelander's past

Benjamin didn’t expect to have to stick a landing, much less clench his eyes shut and hold back the contents of his stomach from making a surprise reappearance.  

Fucking jackass, Ben groans inwardly.  She didn’t warn him about anything more than the time limit. 

Vought had a dirty little secret. Deep in the vaults, in a facility outside of the city, they kept a supe far more dangerous than anyone knew what to do with.  A real bonafide time traveler able to send both herself and others to any time at all, even to specific locations.  All she needed was a little information and a visual, and… well…

That’s how the web-head ended up face down in the grass outside of the most haunting part of his lover’s life.  See, he couldn’t take it anymore.  For every night Homelander woke up in fits of panic, eyes glowing red and blankets torn to escape tortures long buried in the past, stories of agony and torture, humiliation and pain, Benjamin just… couldn’t. 

Especially after he found out about the woman in the vaults.  But, then again, who wouldn’t damn their own future to spare their greatest love from agony?

He brushes away grass clippings before heading inside.  Security was so lax.  He needed only to snatch a badge from an incapacitated guard to have full run of the place.  Once clipped upon the white lab coat he’d snagged from his own time, he looked perfectly the part.

Every nerve in his body feels wrong.  Even his sixth sense tingles in the strangest of ways. Whether it was because he was in danger or for having hopped back to the nineties was a mystery, but something was terribly wrong. 

Three hours. 

That’s all the time he has to find Homelander and break him free. With any luck he’ll get him somewhere safe, somewhere that Vought can’t find him before his time runs out.  If not…

He’d rather not think about it.  Entertaining the idea of failure isn't on the table– hell, it’s not even on the floor.  He has to save John.  

Every grainy scrap of footage he’d ever found of his love’s upbringing flashes in his mind as he descends the first elevator.  It’s enough to make him see red, and his skin crawls beneath his clothes and spider-suit. Recollections of every sobbed or dissociated detail his Johnny has ever told him… 

It’s all too much.  To know he’s going to walk in and see it in person is– it’s not–

It’s terrifying. 

It’s terrifying, and Homelander lived it.  He lived it every day for sixteen years only for it to adapt and change to consume his life in different ways.

The hair at the nape of his neck stands at attention when the elevator door dings and slides open, but he’s met with an empty room.  Concrete walls and abandoned folding tables.

But that doesn’t seem right to him.  Of course it’d be hidden, right?  That only makes sense.  Can’t have the state inspector showing up to check for mold and finding a little boy locked in an incinerator, right?

Vought would never shit where they eat.  

And he knows their tricks all too well at this point.  Ben pats his bare hands over the cold, hard walls.  There isn’t much to the room. There’s dust all over the furniture, and the floor checks out, so it must be the walls.  Something stupid– like a push mechanism or a scanner or something.

He pats around for some time until one slab of concrete feels just a little too warm under his palms.  He embeds the setae of his fingerpads into it and gives a hard tug, making it lurch.  He follows with a heavy push and the sounds of latches and mechanisms clicking slowly shifts the stone to the side, revealing another elevator.

This descent is even worse.  When the door opens, he’s met with a gun in his face and a room of men and women gawking as though they’d expected the feds to be raiding the place.

With a tap of his badge, the gun lowers and the bug enters.

“Hi, everyone,” he greets.  “I’m the new–”

A quivering cry jars him immediately, and Ben’s head rips over to the right to find the red glow of the incinerator burning bright through the glass window on the door.  His body moves faster than his mind can will it and he slaps the big red emergency shutoff button so hard it crushes into the wall.

An alarm blares, but the clicking of that firearm is clear as day.  The bug vaults backward before the first shot is fired, narrowly avoiding its ricocheted path through the cramped room.  A sweep to the guard's legs drops him to the ground and Ben pins him by the wrists, teeth bared.  It takes everything Benjamin has not to move his hold to the throat and squeeze the fucking life out of him.

He webs him to the floor, much to the horror of the onlookers and their frenzied whispers of him being a supe.  He disassembles the gun and chucks the slide and magazine to random ends of the room.  “Nobody fuckin’ moves,” he orders with a pointed finger.  The vitriol in his voice is not unlike Homelander’s.  So much hate and rage behind his commands.

It isn't undeserved. 

Ben makes a beeline to the incinerator door and all but tears it off its hinges.  He blinks through the waves of dispersing heat.

Out stumbles a boy, naked and almost entirely unrecognizable with his long blonde hair and baby-face to the man Ben knows in his own time.  The bug kneels down and shuffles his lab coat off within seconds to wrap it around John’s shoulders. He crosses it at the front to shield him from every sick bastard in the room who’s ever denied him such a bare minimum of dignity.

He’s still weeping from the pain.

“Hey, shh– it’s okay now.” Ben coos, tears welling in his own eyes.  “I’ve got ‘ya.” 

Seeing him is so much worse.  It’s real now.  It always has been, but now it’s… it's worse. That tortured little boy is sobbing in his arms and clutching the coat to his body. He's more than a memory now.  

Ben pets softly over John’s hair, grimacing at the presence of knots and the building layer of grime.  “M’gonna lift you up now, okay?  Hang on to that coat.”  

He waits for John to nod his consent before hoisting him up to his hip, supporting the boy’s weight with one arm while the other points around at the others to keep their distance.  As he looks at them, he fails to find any familiar faces.  In particular, Vogelbaum’s. 

“Who do you think you are?”  Asks one of the men.  A quick glance to his badge reveals his name is Frank.  “Do you have any idea–”

“Consider me your new boss.”  Ben snaps.  “Now go get him some clothes.”

“What–”

“Did I stutter?”

A quiet giggle next to his ear is about the only thing in the moment that brings about any lightheartedness.  He wonders when the last time was that John laughed in here at all. When anything was even just… nice.

“Hey, when was the last time you ate, huh?  You’re pretty light.”  Ben questions with that signature soft smile of his.

It’s like a lightning bolt of agony and joy to see him reciprocate it.  John shrugs.  “I… think this morning?”

“That���s no good, is it?”

John shakes his head.

“We gotta fix that then, right?” Ben puts his hand out to the crowd.  “Car keys.”  When none offer anything more than silent panic at the idea of their precious subject escaping, Ben singles out a woman– badge says Deborah–  and once again puts his hand out.  “Keys, Debbie.  Don’t be stupid.”

Benjamin smiles at her as she digs them from her pocket and shakily places them in his palm. The bug then turns toward the red door.  He feels John tense and the boy’s arm around his neck tightens.  

“S’okay.  Gonna web the door open.”

And he does.  He layers it with so much goo that the normal two hour dissolution was likely closer to six.  By the time the last layer crumbles, they should be long gone.

Ben sits beside John on his springy, awful excuse of a bed, elbows resting on his knees.  

God, what was he doing?  If he does this, Homelander stops existing.  The John he knows– his Johnny– may never be.  Ryan may never be. But wasn’t this the right thing to do?  Everything in Benjamin’s gut screamed to save the boy, but his heart shattered with every step closer to liberating him.

His and Homelander’s lives will be upended entirely.

But he can’t fucking take it anymore, knowing how his love suffered.

“Who are you?”  

His voice is so tiny. He's so little.  To think he was in that incinerator just moments ago…

The bug turns to face him.  “Ben.”  He answers, putting that soft reassuring smile back on his face.  “My name’s Ben.”

“What’s that?”  John asks, pointing to the red webbed sleeve coming out from the sleeves of Ben’s t-shirt.  

Inquisitive little guy.  Would probably love that twenty questions game.

“Part of my costume.”  He explains.  “I’m a superhero where I come from.”

John’s face lights up like a Christmas tree.  “You mean like Soldier Boy?”

Not the best comparison, but…

“Like Soldier Boy,” Ben hums.  He's nothing like Soldier Boy. “I’m–”

A knock at the wall interrupts them.  One of the scientists enters, a heavier man– sweat glistening on his receding hairline.  Ben glares at him as he approaches John, failing to catch how the boy looks down and away from him. That tingle in his head whispers its warnings.  No good.

Something’s wrong.

Something’s very wrong.

“These are f-for you. From Frank,” the man says, voice shaking.  “Here you go, Squirt.”

The bug's eyes widen. 

Squirt.

Squirt.

Benjamin knows this man even without checking the badge.  Knows the story.  Knows the foul meaning behind that fucking nickname.  The dread and shame it causes. 

That it caused. 

A glance over and he sees John avoiding eye contact, gaze locked on the floor.  The boy pulls the lab coat tighter around his body.

Something snaps.

“Get on your knees, Marty.”

He remembers every night he ever held Homelander.  Every time the humiliation came back to haunt his love.

He looks at Benjamin with knit brows and a polite, confused smile.  “I– I’m sorry?”

“On your knees.”  Ben says.  It’s like something has ahold of his body.  His rage is… different than ever before.  It’s workable. Calm.

Precise.

Would the bug have done this years ago?  Would he have done anything like this before he met Homelander?

He doesn’t know anymore.

He doesn't care anymore. 

Sometimes what’s right is right no matter how ugly it is.

Benjamin walks behind Marty, grabs his forearms, and places his right foot between his shoulders.

“Johnny?” He calls. 

The boy’s barely able to cast his gaze in the man’s direction.  The shame and discomfort is all over his face, and that pit of white-hot fury in Ben's gut swirls like never before. 

“Apologize.”  Ben commands, pressing his foot forward and giving the slightest tug against his arms– barely anything to the bug, but raw pain for the man who deserves nothing less.

Below, Marty yowls and begs.  Suddenly, John has no problem looking up.

“I'm sorry!  Oh fuck– oh god!”

But it's not enough. He has no goddamn idea what he's even apologizing for. He just wants it to end. 

“For what?” Ben tugs harder, keeping the tension.  “What’dya do, Marty?  Spit it out!” 

“I don't– I can't– oh Jesus, please!” 

“Harder.” Comes a small, still whisper.  

Ben looks up to find John fixated on the sight, blue eyes sparkling under the fluorescent lights. The bug does as he says and gives a sharp tug to Marty's arms, the resounding scream bouncing loudly between the cramped walls. 

“Think it’s funny to humiliate a kid like that?”  Benjamin grits.  “Rubbin’ his nose in it every day for just being normal– tell him you’re fucking sorry!”

“I’m sah–hahr…hah…” Those pathetic sobs taper off and his body goes limp.

Even the look on John’s face dims at the anticlimactic end.

“You kidding me?”  Ben groans.  This was supposed to be a lesson in not being a fucking creep and he faints?  “Whatever, just– just get dressed.  Let me know when you’re ready, okay?”  The bug instructs, dragging Marty out by the collar of his shirt.  He tosses him forward, letting him skid across the floor to the feet of his horrified colleagues.  Ben's sure the sounds of what little corrective actions he got to take were convincing enough that none of them would dare try anything stupid.

It takes a moment before John calls him back inside.  The boy sits on the bed, staring down at the ground, dressed now in all white.  He holds the lab coat on his lap, fiddling with the buttons.  Just as Ben kneels down before him, words on his own on his tongue, John speaks.

“How’d you know about… that?”

The shame is written clear as day on his face.  

Fuck, Ben thinks to himself.  Didn’t consider that… 

“I…”  The bug ponders a good way to say it.  He breathes a laugh through his nose, shaking his head with a smile on his face.  Homelander would hate it if he was lied to, and that was the one thing Ben always promised he would never do.  “You told me about it.”

The confusion is clear as day.

“Listen, I’ll explain everything when we’re outta here, okay?”  Benjamin says, pulling the car keys from his pocket and jingling them with a devious smile and raised brows.  

“We’re leaving?”

“Mhm,” he hums.  “We’ll make a stop at Vought-a-Buger and get you a milkshake, and then–”

Bang!

A flash of white steals his sight and Benjamin drops everything to shield his ears. The screech that follows is deafening– unlike anything he’s ever heard before.  It hurts, everything hurts, like it’s rattling his fucking skeleton and–

His body is heavy.

“Joh…n…” He tries, but his tongue feels like lead.  Run, he calls, but it doesn’t come out.  Run, Johnny!

There’s nothing.

It’s cold.

Heavy…

It’s all so heavy.

The bug’s first breaths feel labored and wheezy.  Chest is tight.  Head throbs.

There’s a commotion nearby. Canisters on the floor– one kicked by brown flats, rattling across the floor.  Words are blurry save for a few.

Disappoint me…

Like they’re all under water.  Garbled and muted.  Little whimpering cries.

Ashamed of you…

He fights to chase them, to protect that little voice from whatever’s going on, but his eyelids drop with a weight far greater than Benjamin can fend off.

Even in the blackness, his resolve urges him to wake.

Get up.

His sixth sense stirs.

Get. Up.

He can’t just leave John to suffer his fate.

You have to.

His leg twitches.  He fights to take back control.  Like waking up after surgery.  

Wiggle your toes.

His limbs tingle. 

Fingers next. C'mon… 

Fight it off. 

It’s time to wake up!

His violent gasp for breath burns like nothing else, but it shocks his system enough to pry him from the void.  Benjamin’s head rips back and forth, taking in the surroundings.

Still in the bad room.  Door’s shut.

“Johnny?”  He slurs, tongue still heavy in his maw.  The bug shuffles onto his knees.  In the corner sits the boy, hugging his knees to his chest with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Shit.

He takes in the sight of gas canisters and spent flash grenades.

A glance to his watch timer breaks the harrowing news.

Twenty minutes.

“No!”  Ben wails.  “No, no, no. no!”

He’s up in a flash, stumbling to beat on the door.  Every loud bang does little more than dent it.  The haze fades, overpowered by adrenaline and the desperation to do fucking anything. 

I came here to fucking save you!

“Help me!”  He calls to John. “Help me help you!”

“I don’t think so,” calls a strange voice.  The crackle of it rings from a speaker in the ceiling.  A woman’s voice.  Proper and collected.  Eerily calm.

Ben drives his bloodied fists into the door harder and harder, whimpering with each scream of his bones to cease his efforts.  He stumbles backward, panting heavily.  

He could never make it past that door. It was made to withstand someone far more powerful that he'll ever be. 

Ben spins around, staring into the lense of every fucking camera he can find.  

Why didn’t he fucking web them!?  Stupid, stupid– too busy beating on that sad sack of shit for calling John that goddamn name!

“Fuck you, and fuck this place!”  He roars, heartbeat pounding in his ears almost as hard as the throbbing in his skull.  “Torturing a fucking kid like a bunch of sick fucking freaks!”

“Where did you come from?”  She asks, unbothered by the outburst.

“From fucking Craigslist you bitch!”

“It would behoove you to cooperate, young man.”  The satisfaction is all too audible in her tone.  “John.  Subdue him.”

Wh–

Within a mere flash, Ben’s forearm is in a vice grip more painful than anything he’s ever felt.  He can practically feel his bones crunching under the sheer brutality of force, threatening to give at any moment.

“–clearly a Vought asset.  Why are you here?” 

Ben crumbles to his knees.

“Johnny, don’t!”  His pleas fall in sobs, tears clouding his vision.  “I just wanna help you– please let me help you!” 

The faintest flash of doubt and a loud ripping sound precedes the release of the bug’s limb.  His torn sleeve reveals a bruise already forming in the shape of a child’s hand.  The tattered, webbed scrap of fabric is clenched in the boy’s iron grip.

“How do you know of this place?”

It’s like this is just a minor fucking inconvenience to her!  

“Johnny, listen–”

“Restrain him now.  Do not disappoint us, John.”

Ben’s back hits the concrete wall and he sputters against the hand wrapped around his throat.  He squints to meet crimson eyes whose heat emanates painfully hot near his face.  “Jo–”

His feet leave the floor, flailing for purchase against the wall– anything to offset the weight of himself compounding with that vice grip.  John floats higher and higher, stopping just below the ceiling. 

“Not–” the bug chokes through clenched teeth, voice barely more than a hoarse pushing of air through a collapsing throat.  “Not your… fault.  S’okay– forgive’ou–”

The hiss of sizzling tears is only just audible over the woman’s instructions to end it all.  The hand at his throat loosens just enough for the bug to barely draw a breath. 

The five minute warning from his watch beep barely reaches his ears.

Ben wishes John would say anything.  Instead he’s a silent attack dog, obedient to his commands until that small moment of hesitation.

“Good kid–” Ben hisses, fingers prying to loosen the hold just a little more.  

At this rate, he just needs to survive.  Just make it through the five minutes and lick his wounds at home.  Pray he hadn’t fucked up the future too much.

“You’re good– a good kid, Johnny– don’t–” 

John lurches with a violent sob, descending slowly, eyes dimming to watery blues.

The woman’s voice commands him to finish the job.

Fuck– fuck that works!

“A sweet boy!”  Benjamin sobs, gasping for air as the hold relaxes all but totally.  “It’s okay, pumpkin– you’re okay. Doin’ amazing– S'okay.  Everything's– it's all okay…”

Ben lets go with his right hand and rests it on John’s head, stroking softly over those blonde locks just like he did when he pulled him from the incinerator.

His arm is aglow, particles of his being preparing to return from whence they came.

Their time together is almost up.

“What are you doing John?”

Their knees hit the ground with loud thuds.  Ben scoops the boy in a hug.

“I’m sorry,” the bug weeps.  “I’m so fucking sorry!”

He failed.  All of the pain and suffering this boy will face from here on is his fault.

Benjamin pulls back, swallowing his cries to deliver the bad news.

It’s time to go.

“No!!”  John wails, grabbing Ben by the wrists to keep him in the only way he knows how.  “No! You can’t leave me!  You can’t!”

The glow emanating from Ben’s body starts to creep brighter through the room.

“No choice,” he whispers through the tightness of his throat.  “I have no choice, buddy…”

The sound of the woman demanding the door be opened rings through the room.

“M’from the future,” Ben sniffles, chuckling at the boy’s widened eyes. He deserves the clarification. “That's how I know you…”

 That same bursting feeling from right before he was sent back is building and building, ready to snap at any moment.

“But I–”

“You’re gonna have to come find me.”  Ben takes a deep breath.  “Be good, pumpkin–”

And, just like that, he bursts into nothing. He's hurtling through the fabric of time once more, nausea building in the pit of his gut as he screams and sobs through the echoes of history.

He failed.

He failed John.  

He failed his Johnny. He failed Homelander.

And now he didn’t even know if he had his Johnny to go home to.

The bug doesn’t even bother to stick the landing.  It felt almost good to land face down and lay there before The Traveler, body screaming with the pains of his injuries. It's no less than he deserves. 

She regards him with blank white eyes.

“Have you learned your lesson, Benjamin?”

Lesson?

Lesson!?

Through his defeated tears, he shifts just enough to meet her gaze.

“What is shall always be.”  She says calmly, the perfect counter to the hurricane of emotion brewing within the bug.  “Time and fate will always protect one another.”

“Then what the fuck is the point, Cryptic Carl?” he whispers. He means for it to be snarky. Just a little something to salvage his decimated pride and offset some of his own hurt. It's more pathetic than anything.  “If it’s all fuckin’... just like that.”

Her answer does nothing to soothe him.  He thinks of it the entire way home, ignoring how frightened the VUber driver was at his condition and exposed suit.  He ponders it with every access panel that accepts his information and prints, and even as he ascends to the penthouse in the elevator.

It’s all he can think of when he limps through the hall of mirrors and into the arms of his frazzled love.

The point is what you make of it.

One look and he can see the puzzle pieces connect in Homelander’s mind.

The shredded shirt, the torn sleeve of his suit, the handprints on his throat and forearm, the proximity burns on his face… 

Memories fade in with every second he spends in John’s arms– some new, but mostly old and unchanged.  The hostility of their first meeting.  The rapid development of their friendship after joining the team.  The night after he killed Stillwell.  Their first kiss.  Shared rooftop ice creams and dances amongst the clouds.  Washing the blood from his love every time some fool dared cross him or the world became too much.  Every confession of trauma, every admission of love… The good, the bad, the lovely.  All of it.

And then something… new.

Lifting the latch to that odd little dresser full of keepsakes early in their relationship.  The scrap of his suit, tattered and faded from more than thirty years of keeping.  Homelander finding him inspecting it, explaining nothing and everything.

I never stopped looking for you.

He sobs in Homelander’s arms, apologizing through the pain of his damaged throat until he’s a hiccuping wreck.  

He failed.

Benjamin failed and John had to continue living in that hell hole.

He wishes more than anything that his Johnny would punish him for it.  Finish the job and take out all those years he had to suffer on him– because that’s what the bug deserved for fucking up so goddamn badly.

Instead he receives kisses peppered over every inch of his face and Homelander’s tears mingle with his own.  Benjamin doesn’t know what he expects to hear when his love’s lips part.  He deserves the worst.  Names, insults– anything. Even fucking lasers to the face.

What comes is more than he can handle.

More than he’ll ever know what to do with.

But… it makes it all worth it.  Rips his heart clean from his chest and breathes life into each shattered piece, willing it all back together again.

It’s more than he deserves.

“You were the first person to ever give me hope.”

But it is what he makes of it. 

[kikyoupdates]

Love Bite ⭑˚🩸⭑ 𝑎 𝑡𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑜𝑓𝑓𝑒𝑟

yandere!vampires x f!reader

yandere, reverse harem, original characters, vampire!ocs x fem!reader

Desperate for money to pay off your debts, you sign up for a program that allows you to sell your blood to vampires. At first, everything is fine, and you’re finally able to make ends meet. But they soon begin craving more than just your blood.

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Once again, Xavier stands before you.

“Hi,” you greet, smiling awkwardly. “It’s nice to see you again. How are you doing?”

You’re not really sure why you keep bothering with the pleasantries, because it’ll probably end the same way every time. With him tilting his head at you and furrowing his brows in confusion.

You have to remember that for him, this is purely business. Maybe even less than that, actually.

He’s here to sate his appetite, and you are simply a means to an end.

“I’m fine,” Xavier replies, still frowning and no doubt wondering why you keep trying to make small talk with him. He then gestures towards one of the chairs. “Are you ready to get started?”

You nod and quickly sit down. Even though you came back here of your own volition, now that he’s about to drink your blood again, you can feel how fast your heart is beating in anticipation of the pain.

There’s no point in being scared. I need the money. I did it once, so I’m sure I can do it again.

“Whenever you want,” you tell him, white-knuckling the armrest of your chair. “I’m ready.”

Xavier takes a moment to settle beside you. He seems to be waiting just in case you refuse, and while you appreciate that he won’t do anything without your consent, the longer he takes to get started, the more nerve-wracking this whole thing is.

Finally, he bridges the distance, uses an arm to gently hold you in place, and presses his lips against your neck.

Just like last time, it fucking hurts. You can’t even pretend otherwise. There’s a reason why this program isn’t more sought-after. Not only do most humans live in fear of vampires, but the vast majority of people also aren’t desperate enough to sell their blood just to make ends meet. It’s a scary, painful experience, and it comes at a cost to your health, too.

This program was made deliberately for people like you—the hopeless and rundown.

You almost wonder what the other people who’ve signed up are like, but you decide it’s probably better not to meet them. Nothing good could possibly come of so many sad, pitiful souls gathering together in one place.

Anyways, what were you saying again? Oh, right.

It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.

You tremble in place, doing your utmost not to grit your teeth and tense your muscles too much. The pain is one thing, but the sensation of having your blood drained—feeling it be directly siphoned from your body—is what’s truly horrifying. It feels wholly unnatural, and you’ll probably never be able to get used to it.

Still, you put on a brave face. You chose this, and right now, it’s the only option you have.

But apparently, you're not doing a very good job of being convincing.

Xavier pulls away and frowns. “You look like you’re suffering,” he remarks. There’s some blood on his lips, and you swallow at the sight, trying not to let it unnerve you.

“I’m fine,” you reassure. “This is no big deal.”

The last thing you want to do is scare him off. You need him to keep coming back. To you, the money you get from this is every bit as vital as the blood flowing through your veins.

Without it, you won’t survive.

Xavier narrows his eyes, and you fear that he’s starting to become rather annoyed with you. Perhaps he’d prefer someone else. Someone who isn’t such a baby and knows how to suffer through the pain without letting it show.

But instead of berating you, he does the exact opposite.

He apologizes.

“Sorry,” he sighs. “It’s been a long time since I drank someone’s blood like this. Up until I was admitted entry to the city, I lived off the government-issued blood packs, so I didn’t have to bite anyone. I suppose I should learn how to be a bit gentler.”

Uh... what?

You weren’t expecting this. You weren’t expecting this at all. Granted, he was very vocal about not wanting to force you into anything, but he never really struck you as the compassionate type. His expression is usually so stern, almost as frigid as his ice-cold hands.

But right now, he actually looks a bit sheepish.

You’re not sure if it’s the tenderness of his gaze, or the fact that someone’s actually treating you with empathy for a change, but either way, you find yourself blushing.

“I-It’s alright,” you say, glancing off to the side. Looking into those clear blue eyes of his is proving to be far too difficult a task right now. “I mean... it does hurt a bit, but I expected as much coming into this. I think I just need some more time to get used to it.”

“No. I’m sure it can’t be pleasant, so it’s up to me to do it in a way that isn’t quite so unbearable.” He lightly taps you on the hand, beckoning you to look at him again. “I’d like to try one more time,” he says. “With your permission, of course.”

Fuck. Here you are, selling your blood—which is quite possibly the least romantic thing in the world—but all of a sudden, you’ve got butterflies in your stomach.

It’s his fault for being so damn handsome. Or maybe you’re just not thinking clearly from all the blood loss.

Yeah. That must be it.

“Go ahead,” you reassure, adjusting your position and exposing your neck again. You take a deep breath, trying to relax, and you remind yourself that no matter how much it hurts, eventually, it will end.

Xavier’s fangs pierce your skin again, but even though you wince, you feel as though it’s slightly different from earlier. The way he’s drinking your blood is slower, more deliberate. It still hurts, no question about it, but you can tell that he’s now being conscious of how he does it.

Somehow, just the fact that he’s making an effort to hurt you less helps you cope a lot better than before.

“Huh? A different vampire has personally requested me?”

You blink, holding your phone against your ear. Just moments ago, someone from Plasma Inc. called to inform you that you’ve got another client. The news comes as a surprise, especially since you’re pretty sure Xavier is the only vampire you’ve ever met.

“Um... you guys don’t happen to show the clients files of the people who’ve signed up for the program and rank their blood in terms of tastiness, right?”

It’s a stupid question, if the sigh the employee lets out is anything to go off. You felt like asking it anyways, though.

“Of course not,” they reply. “This is actually a very peculiar case. We normally match clients and donors randomly, but this particular client apparently caught a glimpse of you in the building. Certain vampires are more perceptive than others and can sense when someone has appetizing blood. He was adamant about meeting with you, but naturally, the choice is yours. Rest assured that we will never disclose any of your personal information to him, so you’re welcome to refuse.”

As if you would ever refuse an opportunity to earn more money. These people are seriously underestimating just how desperate you are.

“I’ll meet with him,” you agree. “Just let me know when I should stop by.”

This is a good thing, right? Assuming he likes you—which, it sounds like he already does—you’ll be able to meet with two clients regularly instead of one.

Paying off your debt is finally starting to feel like more than just a dream.

Not much time has passed since you last saw Xavier, but once again, you find yourself walking down the pristine, glistening white hallways of Plasma Inc.

“Before you go meet with your new client,” the doctor begins, “I feel the need to mention that there are limits to how frequently you can come in. We can’t in good faith let you come back too often and give away your blood, otherwise it comes at a detriment to your health, and we are liable for it. So, please understand that we will monitor how often you come in and impose restrictions. We won’t allow you to put yourself in harm’s way.”

Damn. Well, that does make sense, and you suppose it’s a good thing, ethically speaking.

But financially speaking—for you, at least—it isn’t exactly ideal.

Still, you nod in agreement. “I understand. I won’t do anything to get you guys in trouble.”

The doctor smiles and ushers you along. Well, it’s fine. Even if you don’t do this all the time, they pay you quite generously, most likely to incentivize people into signing up in the first place. And now you have two clients instead of one, which means that you’re bound to get paid more often anyways.

Besides, this isn’t a permanent solution. It’s only to help keep you afloat until you pay off your debt to Johnny.

Once this nightmare is over, you’ll finally know what it’s like to live a normal life.

“Go right ahead,” the doctor gestures, and since you’re starting to get used to this whole process by now, you step inside the room without any hesitation.

Then, you lock eyes with your new client.

He’s tall. Really, really tall, as if being a vampire wasn’t already intimidating enough. His eyes are even more piercing than Xavier’s pale blue ones. They glisten like shards of topaz, bright and beguiling. You haven’t yet realized that your lips are parted open in awe, and all of this feels suspiciously like déjà vu. Like when you first laid eyes on Xavier.

It turns out that vampires really are ridiculously attractive.

“Yay, you’re finally here!” he exclaims. He runs up to you, and without warning, pulls you into his arms.

Naturally, you flinch at the sudden contact, and even though he’s going to be biting your neck later, you’re pretty sure that this isn’t exactly appropriate.

“U-Um,” you stammer. You try to push him away, but he’s a million times stronger than you, so you may as well be trying to move a wall.

He squeezes you and lets out a pleased sigh. “I knew it. You really do smell amazing. I can only imagine how sweet your blood will taste.”

Oh, boy. He’s sniffing you.

This already doesn’t bode well.

Mercifully, he pulls away quickly enough, stopping to flash you a sharp-toothed grin. “I’m Felix,” he introduces. “Man, you’re even prettier in person too! This day just keeps getting better. I really struck gold here.”

You can’t tell if he’s a big flirt, or a creep, or if he’s just really excited to drink your blood.

Regardless, you don’t make any motion to leave.

No way in hell are you leaving without your money.

“I’m [Name],” you say, nodding your head a bit. “It’s nice to meet you, Felix. I heard that you requested me specifically, so... hopefully I won’t let you down.”

His grin gets even wider. “There’s no way you will. I’m confident about this. I don’t think I’ve ever met a human who smells as good as you do.”

“Um... thanks.”

You’re not really sure what else to say. He’s a lot different from Xavier, though, that much is for sure. He’s infinitely more expressive and doesn’t seem too concerned with keeping things professional.

Regardless, he’s a client, and unless you give him what he wants, you’re not going to get paid.

“Should we start now?” you ask, already sitting down.

Felix nods eagerly. He’s practically vibrating, incapable of containing his excitement. You suppose it’s a bit endearing. It seems like he’s really been looking forward to this, and money aside, it’s nice to be able to make someone happy.

You adjust the top of your shirt to better expose your neck, and you swear that Felix gulps at the sight.

“Whenever you’re ready, just—”

The rest of the words don’t make it out in time. He grabs you by the shoulders, forcefully, then bites into your neck without even bothering to ease you through it.

A sharp cry escapes your lips, and you whimper, doing everything you can not to scream again.

This is bad. Unlike Xavier, he’s making no attempt to be gentle. He’s slurping from your neck greedily, and even though he’s already pierced your skin, his fangs dig deeper, in a relentless pursuit of everything you have to offer.

Tears blur your vision. Holy fuck, it hurts. You never imagined that it could hurt this much. It was already bad enough before. Will you... even be able to handle this?

You moan softly, and even though you’re doing your best to hold it together, a few tears end up spilling down your cheeks. You can feel how damp your skin is. Not just your face, but also the tender spot on your neck that Felix keeps burying his fangs into.

The pain makes you pass out for a few moments, but it’s better this way, because when you come to, Felix has finally stopped.

His lips and chin are completely stained with your blood, and he makes no attempt to wipe it off either, unlike Xavier.

To make matters even worse, he actually has the nerve to smile.

“Amazing,” he mumbles. He doesn’t seem awfully concerned with the fact that you’re only semi-conscious right now, and instead presses his body closer to yours. “[Name], you really are amazing. I’ve never had such delicious blood before. Most humans taste disgusting to me, and it’s a pain just finding something I can stomach. I don’t think you understand how much it means to me that I’ve finally met someone like you.”

Sure, it sounds like a crappy situation, but you’re having a hard time sympathizing with him after he basically just mauled your neck.

You wince and press a hand against the bite mark, and when you pull your fingers away, you’re horrified to find that they’re completely coated in blood.

Sh-Shit...

Felix leans into your line of sight, still grinning widely. “Hey. I have an offer for you. I’m sure they must have told you that there are restrictions to how often you can sell your blood, but if you’re here, it’s because you need the money, right? So, how about we also meet up outside of our scheduled appointments? That way, I can drink your blood as often as I want, and you can make more money. And by that, I mean that I’ll pay you double what you’re getting here. Hm? How does that sound?”

Double?

As in, two times as much?

You blink repeatedly, suddenly completely lucid. The pain is still there, clear as day, but what you’ve just heard has imbued you with a new sense of bravery.

Felix clearly doesn’t know the meaning of holding back. You doubt he cares about hurting you, which means it’ll be painful as all hell, every single time. Honestly, if you really wanted to, you could drop him as a client altogether. He seems like the type that’s difficult to keep in line, especially when there’s something he wants.

But it’s obvious that he really, really likes your blood, and apparently, he’s willing to pay a steep price for it.

With that kind of money, you’ll be able to pay Johnny back even faster. You’ll be able to treat yourself to a nice meal every now and then, to put your feet down from time to time and get a proper night’s sleep.

Forget just surviving, you want to know what it’s like to actually live.

“This is strictly between the two of us,” Felix continues. “It has to be done in private, without anyone finding out. The laws on this stuff are pretty stingy, and I’m sure neither of us wants to get in trouble. But I promise I’ll make it worth your while.”

Just a few moments ago, when you saw the bloody mess he made of your neck, you were actually considering never seeing him again. The pain was simply too much. You’ve suffered a lot, but even you have your limits.

Alas, in the face of money, you are nothing but a pathetic, subservient fool.

“Okay,” you mumble weakly. “Let’s do it.”

It’s probably a big mistake.

But you’re too desperate to care.

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🩸 main masterlist! ♡ character appearances

[redd956]

(@urlocalwhumper)

hey dawg thanks for feeding us living weapon whumpee enjoyers

i know that generally the vibe for living weapon whumpees is like the stoic "unfeeling" supersoldier type, but how are we feelin about living weapon whumpees that are like. off the shits feral.

more of an attack dog than a super soldier, weapons of mass destruction built into them cybernetically, because their masters aren't looking for efficiency, they're looking to send a message. for everyone around to know that if you don't bow to their rule, they'll send their monster to destroy you and everything you hold dear.

(and ofc the "monster" themself is kept in a constant state of suffering so they're always agitated and the pain clouds their mind too much to question what they're doing and why)

I love the way you think!

I never really thought of that character trope as a living weapon, but you aren't lying, it would count. (My brother and I's ocs would count then Ig) Also ties into monster whumpees :D

Here's some ideas I bounced off of this

Guard Dog Whumpee

CW: Pet Whump Sorta, Classic, the whump community should bring these up more

Whumper having more than one, forcing them to compete with one another. The most brutal earns their medical treatment.

Dangerous whumpees who have to be muzzled and mitted because whumper doesn't have them under control fully. Gentle carewhumpers being able to coerce whumpee into muzzles.

Non-guard dog whumpees equally trapped under whumper's boot being terrified of the guard dog. Sharing space with one is like sleeping on the shore of alligator infested rivers.

Scarred whumpees with dangerous animalistic features bared, backed into a corner with a tail in between their legs. Caretaker is trying their best to appear nonthreatening.

A guard dog whumpee failing its job. It showed no fear to its enemies, but the same cannot be said as they returned home.

Monster Living Weapon Whumpee

Say that three times fast

While rampaging after whumper's enemies whumpee broke the device keeping them confined to whumper. Quickly a symbol of destruction becomes a confused, hurt, and whimpering creature.

Whumpee always thought they were uniquely a monster. Whumper told them so everyday, rewarding them for their monstrousness, telling them they're alone as a creature of evil. Whumpee always thought this until they met caretaker.

Monster whumpees that despite being living weapons show rage in their failures, and pride in their kills. They don't see that whumper's treatment of them is subpar, because they're "partners in crime" of course. Caretaker would never treat whumpee that way if they were their weapon.

Killing Machine

They know what they're capable of, and they don't want to be that

Maybe they wanna do things their way, maybe they're ashamed of being a killing machine. Whumper could care less.

Killing machine in disguise has been living the everyday life, perhaps even an extravagant one. Whumper found them out, and no one has seen whumpee since, until the destruction started.

Killer Machine Villain -> Supervillain meets Villain with the promise to make them more powerful -> Extra Murderous Killer Machine Villain (Unstable)

Robotic whumpee that is just doing what they're told. Whumper was great, whumper was life. Robotic whumpee who sees whumper returning home with the newest model. Whumper who won't stop boasting about how much more efficient and deadly the new one is.

[spamgyu]

Can we have a happy ending for cheated OC? 👀

Can even be in form of an answer, we don’t even need a new fic

We need the cheater to burnnnnn 😡

alright in short form, here is what I think happened in Biggest Regret

Oc was able to find love after Mingyu (good karma - duh) like any person that has been cheated on, it took a while for her to trust their new partner. But this person was able to show oc that loving is worthwhile, especially with the right person. They taught oc how beautiful love is again and I see that oc ended up marrying this person.

As for Mingyu, he watched all of oc's move through her social media – and since they were together for quite some time, they share mutual friends. Mingyu would ask about oc through their friends, not because he wants to get back with her but he's genuinely curious and he wants to make sure she's doing okay.

Mingyu found out oc was getting engaged before oc because her best friend's bf is still friends with Mingyu and he accidentally spilled to Mingyu that oc's bf asked her best friend to help execute his plans. Mingyu was broken that day, he couldn't show it but he was grieving – he knew he had no right to express his emotions when he was the one that destroyed his relationship.

Mingyu suffers in silence when it comes to his regret for losing and fucking up his relationship with oc. No one, not even his best friend, knows that he silently greets oc for her bday, or the fact that he takes their anniversary off – he goes away just by himself.

He never takes off that Tiffany bracelet and the day it broke – because he was taking Going Seventeen a little too seriously, silence fell in the room. He tried to brush it off like it didn't matter to him and that "it's just a bracelet" but they knew...... His eyes couldn't hide his pain.

He never bought a replacement. Because just like you, there was no replacing the memory the bracelet held.

<3 the end.

[mangowillow]

last to know | ch. 1: haunted dreams

pairing: jungkook x (f) reader / kim woosung x (f) reader

summary: you and jeongguk got together at 16 years old, married at 20, and divorced at 21. what was once love ever after turned into nothing but pain and unfulfilled dreams. you keep going despite the pain in your heart that never really went away, until one day, jungkook comes back— to seoul and in your life.

general story tags: divorce au, childhood friends, angst (who am i without it), hurt & eventual comfort, kind of a slow burn, OC is an adopted child in this fic, a lot of flashbacks later on because context is important; and the others that a lot of people seem to dislike: a love triangle and a LOT of miscommunication. look away if this isn't your thing. tags and warnings will be updated as we go along with each chapter!

warnings: nothing really; well, maybe except seokjin's intrusive thoughts about an axe k*ller— but it's tame, i promise! oh, and jeongguk gets slapped. be nice and let me know if i miss anything! there's a mini flashback in this chapter in all italics marked by a ♥!

word count: 3,900

author's note: i am very nervous about this first chapter because it's been A WHILE since i last wrote ~something~ so anyway! here you go, enjoy!

fic masterlist

New York, 2023

It was right when the DJ turned up the volume that Jeongguk felt the impact of a palm hitting him square in the jaw.

Jeongguk doesn’t know what stimuli to focus on: should it be the loud music blasting through the speakers or the sting of the slap that he probably deserved. It doesn’t take his brain too long to piece together what just happened 5 seconds ago. He knows what’s coming and he is also very much aware that he did see it coming sooner or later.

“Fuck you, Jeongguk,” Ae-cha grits through her teeth. Jeongguk swears she’s about to cry, tears threatening to spill amidst the blue glow of the lights above them. “We are dating, how can you say that—”

“We sleep together when it’s convenient for the both of us, Ae-cha.” Jeongguk downs the rest of his scotch, along with the remnants of his pride. “I never said anything about dating.”

“You are such a jerk!” Ae-cha turns a shade of red, tears in the corners of her eyes. It isn’t the first time Jeongguk has ever made a woman cry, but oddly enough, he doesn’t feel that hollow ache in his chest; the one he felt the first time he made that mistake. He should feel bad, he thinks, but then again, he also doesn’t.

Does that make him a bad person? 

“I didn’t listen to my friends when they said you were trouble. I wanted to prove them wrong—” Ae-cha starts, but Jeongguk cuts her off.

“Why? Why do you have to?”

Ae-cha’s eyes grow wide as she watches Jeongguk stare at his empty glass.

“You should have listened to your friends.” Jeongguk says, matter-of-fact. Ae-cha scoffs and Jeongguk knows now is the right time to probably shut up.

But he’s a jerk, just like Ae-cha says he was.

“I told you right from the beginning… we just use each other because we’re both lonely,” Jeongguk feels his throat turn dry, “I think somewhere along the way, you misread my actions.”

Ae-cha doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. She closes her eyes for a minute and Jeongguk looks at her, waiting for her rebuttal. Or maybe a second slap. Whichever comes first.

Ae-cha speaks in a voice so low, it’s perplexing how Jeongguk is still able to pick up her words— “Your problem is that you do not care about other people’s feelings, Jeongguk. You only care about your own.”

Jeongguk tightens his jaw; now he feels his heart aching.

“You hurt people. You ruin good things. You keep your heart under tight wraps and you do not let anyone in. If you keep that up, you will end up with no one.”

Jeongguk stares at Ae-cha, wanting to say something, but failing completely. Maybe this is what he gets for sleeping with a psychologist— a rude awakening.

Before he can say anything, Ae-cha turns on her heel and walks away. Jeongguk remains at the bar for a bit more until the song changes into a slower tempo. It feels like a chore walking back to the table where his best friend Yoongi was— like walking on lead. 

“That must’ve hurt—” Yoongi starts, fingers reaching out to the peanut bowl and putting some into his mouth. Jeongguk plops down on the chair with a sigh. “What a shitty night,” he quips.

Yoongi hums, “And whose fault is that?” 

Jeongguk looks at his best friend in annoyance. Yoongi chuckles, putting more peanuts into his mouth. “What’d she say?”

“That I’m a jerk who hurts people and ruins good things.”

“Is it true?”

“You tell me.”

“I don’t think I need to do that, kid.” Yoongi concludes, glancing at Jeongguk. He takes a swing out of his beer bottle before continuing, “You know damn well the answer to that.”

Jeongguk clicks his tongue and takes the beer from Yoongi. He takes a swig himself, letting their conversation die out by drowning it into the same old music he’s used to hearing almost every night. 

Jeongguk comes home to his apartment that night, tipsy and his heart in pieces. Walking into the living room, the corner of his eyes catch the stack of luggages already packed and loaded. He didn’t feel like sitting on the couch so he opts to sit on the floor, his fingers grazing the carpet absentmindedly. A beat later, he allows his heart to bleed once more— as he always seems to do every single night for the past few years. Leaning his head back against the edge of his couch, he cries himself to sleep, wishing, praying the ache in his chest—and the words you hurt people—would go away in the morning.

Seoul, 2023

Your eyes try to take in the art in front of you— The Artist’s Garden in Giverny, Claude Monet, 1900. Usually, many emotions overwhelm your system and you cannot help but discuss any painting with the next person willing to listen. 

And once upon a time, you were enthusiastic about your craft and love for the arts. It was almost always too easy, too often that you could come up with pieces to add to your gallery. But that hasn’t happened in over a year— maybe more than. 

In the stillness of the room you are in, you hear light footsteps coming closer to where you are. You keep your eyes trained on Monet’s painting until your brother Seokjin sits beside you.

For a while, you and Seokjin just sit beside each other— no words, only a quiet understanding that close siblings seem to share and empathize with. Seokjin’s parents adopted you when you were eleven; a year after you and your parents met a horrible car collision. You are five months older than Seokin, yet that fact doesn't deter him at all, and more often than not, he usually ends up acting like your older brother. When he first met you at the orphanage, he grew fond of you real quick— already asking his parents when he’d be allowed to play with you. He doesn’t mind that you were once part of the system, that you are his half-sister— not really. He never treated you any differently. He loves you with his whole heart and he will always protect you. 

This is why he also cannot stand stillness at times, especially when it involves you.

“Have you been waiting long?” Seokjin asks.

You have a habit of kicking your right foot into the air when you don’t really know how to respond right away. You take a sharp inhale before shaking your head. Seokjin follows your line of sight— you were still looking at the painting.

“Does it make you feel better? Looking at this, I mean…” 

Seokjin’s question makes you look at him instead, like you just realized he had been sitting there this whole time and you never knew. He meets your eyes, sees the sadness in them. He will always know no matter how hard you try to hide it.

“Happy birthday, ____”

You don’t respond. 

“Taehyung and the others are waiting down at the cafe. Do you still want to meet them?”

You nod once before giving Seokjin a smile, “Of course.”

Seokjin slides into the gap between the two of you and instinctively, you rest your head on his shoulder as he envelops you in a side hug. He rubs a hand up and down your arm before planting a light kiss on top of your head.

“I know it doesn’t get any easier, ____. But I just want you to know that I love you… We all love you.” 

With shaky breath and tears that threaten to spill from your eyes, you whisper, “I know.”

As Seokjin gets into the driver’s seat, you hand him an envelope. Seokjin has an inkling what it is, but he asks you anyway as he squints his eyes at you.

“What is that supposed to be?”

You push the envelope towards him a bit more, just humming, “It’s the last payment.”

Seokjin rolls his eyes as he presses the ignition. He doesn’t take the envelope, “Oh come on, Seokjin, just take it.”

“And for the nth time, you shouldn’t have to pay for something I willingly helped you out for. We’re siblings, for gods sake, ____.”

You lower your hands, setting the envelope on your lap. Eyes cast down you mumble, “I know that. I was able to sell a painting again after a long time and it felt good… But I already told you this before— I’d feel better if you just please take this.” 

Seokjin lets out a sigh— usually he makes that sound when he’s already defeated. 

“Please don’t tell me you’re giving me all the money you worked hard for,” Seokjin starts and you shake your head as soon as you heard the word all. “No, not at all, I— I had some saved up and the rest of it will be for rent.”

You look at Seokjin who still looks suspicious. You playfully roll your eyes and Seokjin sees you smile for the first time that night.

“I promise.”

Seokjin sets his eyes on the parking lot, placing his hands on the steering wheel, “Fine—” you squeal as soon as he gives in and you place the envelope in the glove compartment. “—but this is the last time, all right?”

“Yes sir, that’s the last of the payments,” you respond a tone higher than your usual. Seokjin chuckles as he sets the gear into reverse.

“Are you sure you don’t need any help moving some of your stuff?” Seokjin asks as you fasten your seatbelt.

“Not really, I think I can manage just fine.”

You expect Seokjin to be backing up the car right now, yet he remains unmoving. You chuckle.

“I’ll be fine, Seokjin. Movers will help me move some of the heavier stuff.”

“Listen, ____, I was beyond ecstatic when you told me you were moving out of… there. I just don’t understand why you need to move in somewhere else when you can just stay with me.”

“Seokjin—”

“And it’s not like you have any problems with money or anything, I mean, you are doing okay right?”

“I am,” you answer with a smirk.

“Yah, don’t give me that look, ____. I’m serious, I really don’t understand why you have to stay somewhere else.”

“I already told you. I don’t need a big apartment, I just need a place to sleep. And isn’t it weird if we live together— people are going to think we’re co-dependent.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to argue, but you cut him off, “And I know what you’re going to ask next. Why did I choose to move in an apartment on the other side of the city? And I already told you a dozen times— I need to learn how to be on my own for real this time. And it’s much cheaper compared to all the other apartments in the city center, I mean— have you seen Seoul?”

“Don’t get cheeky with me, woman. Sure yeah, valid, but have you met your neighbors?”

“What does that have to do with anything?” you ask confidently.

“Well, they could be an ax killer or something—”

“Or they could just be an ordinary person with a normal life, Seokjin.” You laugh at your brother’s catastrophic thoughts. You completely understand where he’s coming from— he just wants to protect you.

“That’s only hypothetical,” Seokjin snarks as he stops at a stoplight. You lay your hand on top of his on the console.

“I know you’re worried about me—”

“I am, you brat.”

“And I will forever be grateful… but I need to do this,” you reply calmly, almost like you were whispering. “I hope you understand.”

“I’m trying, ____. It’s not exactly easy to do that when you’re not giving me the grace to understand exactly why you need to do this… when you can just stay with me. The house is too big. And the cafe is right next door!”

“And we will get to that someday… but not right now, hm?” Seokjin sighs in defeat. “I will call you every single night if that will make you feel better.”

“Yah, those kinds of things have to come from the heart, not because you’re forced to do it just to appease me.”

“I’m not… I actually really want to talk to my little brother every day,” you tease as Seokjin scoffs.

“Fine, you have to call me every day, okay? Promise?”

You grin wide, “I promise.”

“And I am not your little brother, we’re only 5 months apart.”

“Doesn’t change the fact that I’m older than you.”

Seokjin grumbles under his breath but a smirk was on his lips, “And you’re always going to be my brat.”

The coffee shop you and Seokjin run together has been passed down by your parents. Ever since Seokjin could utter the word, “coffee,” everyone in the family knew he was destined to manage the coffee chains. Even though you were technically the older one, your parents were more lenient and allowed you to forge your own path. Seokjin understood that and he wouldn’t have it any other way despite your pleas to help him with all the major business work. It has been a few years since the original coffee shop in Seongsu-dong expanded into different branches across Seoul. When you flew back from New York, you immediately put up your own artist studio right beside the cafe. Seokjin even pitched in on the idea of a gallery where people can choose to paint while drinking their favorite latte. Four years later, people now come for the art displays and occasional indie music performances, at times poetry nights. 

Four years later, you were also making a name for yourself as an artist. Seokjin once told you you were a jack of all trades, master of everything because you were crafty with your hands— painting, dress-making, cooking. And you brush him off every single time.

Because if anything, one of your greatest weaknesses was believing whether or not you were good enough for anything or anyone.

Seokjin opens the door for you as you both enter the coffee shop. As soon as you come in, you are greeted by your long-time friends— Taehyung, Hoseok, and Jimin. You met Taehyung and Jimin in New York because you were all fine arts students. Hoseok came into the picture as Taehyung’s lover not long after the three of you came back home to Seoul. 

“There she is, our little star,” Taehyung greets you with his signature boxy smile. His arms are wide open, ready to engulf you in a tight embrace. Jimin and Hoseok follow suit, each with a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s about time you show your pretty face, ____. It’s been ages since we last saw you,” Jimin quips.

“But I text and call you guys almost every day,” you defend. Hoseok pushes a plate of strawberry cake towards you and adds, “It’s not the same as seeing you in the flesh, ____. You look amazing, as always.”

“Thank you, Hobi. That’s reassuring, considering the fact that I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in ages.”

“Too many commissions?” Jimin asks.

“More than that, the gallery show at Seojung Art is in six months, and I still haven’t started on my piece.”

“Do you already know what you’re going to create?” Taehyung asks as he takes a bite of his croissant.

“That’s the problem… inspiration isn’t coming. It’s a bother,” a frown now evident across your face. Jimin holds your hand.

“You know you’re really talented, right, ____? You’ll pull through.”

“Thanks, Jiminie,” you smile at him. 

“Maybe one of the customers’ paintings here could ignite a spark?” Taehyung starts. “I mean, sometimes the best kind of inspiration hits when you least expect it.”

“You’re right. I’ll sleep on it tonight… if I do get to sleep,” you chuckle, but they all know it’s more than that.

Seokjin comes back to the table with your hot mint tea— a drink that almost always helps you fall asleep.

“What’s with the dead atmosphere, guys? It’s been a while since we all got together like this and you’re all moping,” Seokjin jokes. He has always been the life of the party contrary to his very introverted nature.

“It really is a good night, isn’t it?” Taehyung replies as he eats up the last bit of his pastry. “Hoseok and I actually enjoyed the night breeze on the way here because it was just the right amount of chilly.”

“Always the romantic, this one,” Hoseok laughs.

Jimin carefully watches you as you sip your tea in silence. “Are you all settled to move in tomorrow, ____? Do you need help?” 

“I’ll be fine, Jimin. I don't have as much stuff to pack, anyway.”

“Oh yeah that’s right, tomorrow’s moving day. Are you excited?” Taehyung jumps a bit on his seat, suddenly interested in the conversation.

“Not really, I mean, it’s going to be pretty boring moving stuff around, don’t you think?”

“But it’s also the start of a new beginning.” Taehyung supplies.

You smile after taking a bite of the cake, “That is very true.”

Seokjin opens his mouth to talk, but then closes it. He changes his mind anyway, “Her neighbors don’t own axes or something, right Taehyung?”

Taehyung giggles, “I don’t know, hyung, It’s not like I went into every apartment on her floor.”

Seokjin turns pale and Taehyung laughs. Taehyung used to live on the same floor as the one you’re about to move into— before he moved in with Hoseok.

“Seokjin is so worried about the neightbors that he couldn’t stop ranting about it on the way here,” you chuckle. “But as I told him, I’ll be fine.” You placed emphasis on the word fine as you held Seokjin’s hand for reassurance under the table.

“Are you telling that to us or to yourself?” Seokjin starts. He has a way of being so upfront with you that there were moments when it became the cause of your fights and misunderstandings. Seokjin sometimes does not know when to stop, yet you know he always means well. You love and dislike him for it at the same time.

“Hyung…” Jimin readily interjects.

“It’s okay, Jimin…” you put your fork down and paused before looking at Seokjin. “I am telling all of you and myself… that I will be fine. I am honestly really thankful that you’re all here now to keep me company.”

You’ve been saying the word “fine” and “okay” a whole lot that night— you started to doubt if you really are or if Seokjin was right— that you’re just trying to convince yourself of it.

“Are you holding up okay, noona?” Hoseok asks, worried.

“Of course—” you take a sharp exhale before continuing, “It also means that time is helping me get past it. And I am okay with that.”

None of your friends respond. 

“We love you always, ____. You’ll always have us.” Taehyung said.

“Happy birthday, noona,” Jimin smiles. 

Your friends sing you their greetings as Hoseok brings out their surprise birthday cake and flowers. As you try not to cry at their gesture, you try to give them the most genuine smile you can muster. Yet in your heart, you know it’s not enough to convince them. Or yourself.

♥ “You do not get to tell me shit because I have done everything for you—”

“I didn’t ask for any of this, Jeongguk—”

“And yet you still came here with me. If you are really that resentful about moving here… about marrying me— then why did you stay? Why are you still here?”

“I never said I resented you.”

“Yeah? Well it feels like it. You make me feel like shit whenever I can’t help you! God I— you know what? I’m done. I can’t do this with you anymore.”

“W-what do you mean you can’t—”

“—I’m saying we should end this. I want a divorce.”

Yoongi gently shakes Jeongguk’s shoulder to wake him up. “We’re almost landing, Jeongguk-ah,” he whispers.

Jeongguk slightly jerks from his sleep. His body feels heavy, his brain foggy but at the same time trying to recover from the dream he just had.

“It’s the same dream again, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks, knuckles turning white as he holds on to the arm rests. Turbulence has always been a bitch— well, at least to Yoongi. Jeongguk doesn’t answer him; instead, he looks out the plane window, thinking the plane couldn’t land fast enough.

“You keep calling out for her, you know? When you dream, I mean. Did you know that?”

That gets Jeongguk’s attention. He bites down on his lip ring before shaking his head, “No. I didn’t know.”

From baggage claim until Jeongguk and Yoongi exit through arrivals, there has been nothing but silence. Yoongi notices how Jeongguk’s hands couldn’t keep still: he’d take them in and out of his pockets. As they walk to the car that awaits them, Yoongi asks once more— “Are you sure you’re going to be okay?

Jeongguk lets out a long breath before looking at his best friend: “I will be.”

“This is the last of the boxes, ma’am.” One of the movers holds a medium-sized box. “Where do you want me to put it?”

You get up from one of the boxes you were opening, “Oh, that’s okay, I’ll take it. Thank you.”

“I just need you to sign one more thing before we wrap up.”

“Of course,” you take the pen and sign on the dotted line.

“Have a good day,” The movers gave you a small bow before they went on their way. Looking around the room, you let out a sigh. The apartment is bigger than you initially thought but you are happy about that. There’s an extra room spacious enough to set up a painting studio. 

Your eyes land on the last box that was given to you by the mover. Inside it are memories that you don’t feel ready to touch just yet. Despite everything else scattered around your room, you pick up the box and shove it into the back corner of your closet. Maybe someday you’ll have the heart to open it again, but right now, it stays out of sight.

You were about to start opening one of the other boxes when a soft, melodic voice comes up behind you— “Hey baby.”

You turn around quickly, your heart and body naturally gravitating to the owner of the voice: Kim Woosung, your boyfriend.

“Hi,” you softly respond, heart happy upon seeing your boyfriend’s smile. He sets the take-out bags down to hug you. Woosung then gives you a long kiss on your forehead, mumbling, “I missed you.”

You don’t lift your eyes to meet his right away, but your hands reach out for his as he cradles your face. When you finally look at him, he gives you that warm smile you have always loved. With Woosung, there is peace, the kind that secures your heart. As he aligns his forehead with yours, you feel all your worries melt away. 

With Woosung, everything feels safe, so right.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” Woosung apologizes. You shake your head gently and wrap your arms around his neck.

“You’re just in time.”