#i really need to write some Oak fics!!

[rutobuka2]

Hi! Which are your favorite bagginshield fics?

I haven't been reading fic lately, so I might forget a lot of them, but:

my talented friend McManatea didn't write often but every time I think of a "complicated old uncle love" fic that makes my heart twinge I think of hers: Come To My Own Hearthstone

my talented friend Yubi wrote this saga of a fic, and I always talk about it with my friends because I think it's so logical, so fucking cool, and makes me emotional: Azhâr

my talented friend Kitty wrote so many fun AUs, and my favorite series was the Satyr one, obviously: In which the Dwarves are Satyrs, because Reasons but I often also think about the lesbian Selkie one! It's so unique: The Selkie

my talented friend mithrilbikini wrote so many cool rarer pair fics, I know it's not bagginshield, but I often remember this one with Bilbo/Nori: Unexpected (but Not Unwelcome) and also check out their other posts on AO3, they're centered on their professional illustrations. All bangers.

the talented HildyJ first had control of my brain with their amazing Oak and Mistletoe, but I remember reeling with every new setting and fic, and I'm sure you'll find yourself a treasure trove in their bagginshield works!

the talented Margo_Kim still has my ass on lock with their beautiful Homesick, I always remember waiting for the next chapters and the absolute joy the ending was.

the talented Northerntrash always had such an absolute hold on mythology fic, but it's absurd how their modern AUs or canon timing AUs would also kill your ass: For This, Of Seasons

I really need to go back in and read some more! Do you guys have some good recs? :D

[ashonheavenscloud]

five more minutes || h. jisung

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ contents: han jisung x reader, college au, established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive, intense make out sesh, disgusting amounts of mutual simping

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ word count: 1.8K

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ warnings: tinyyy bit suggestive (this whole fic is just one really long kiss scene LMAO), one (1) hickey is given to reader

⋆｡𖦹°⭒˚｡⋆ a/n: repost from my old instagram under starryy.chan. this is like 2 and a half years old so i’m not sure how great the writing still is but i hope you enjoy regardless! comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated <3

now playing : whisper - park jiwoo

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

If a more perfect end of your day existed, you didn’t think you wanted it.

It had been meeting under that giant oak tree on campus, just to sneak a few kisses after your last classes of the day ended. Then Jisung had dragged you to a nearly secret bakery, hidden along the outskirts of the university campus, where the store owner had offered you a small box of macarons with the chocolate cheesecake you’d shared. You’d taken them snugly in their container back to Jisung’s apartment, where the treats had been devoured over a heated and exhilarating few rounds of uno. 

You’d decided on a simple dinner: a pizza (or maybe it was two) to share over loud discussion and banter, where he relentlessly teased you and you argued playfully back. With him, the rhythm of conversation flowed effortlessly- and over every possible topic you could explore. Because it was just that easy with him, just that natural. 

And Jisung had the unique ability to make you laugh with hardly any effort. What was even better was how much you knew he attempted to bring out your smile and loud giggles simply because he loved them. He never failed to tell you that, and it always left you a flustered mess. Which, of course, he also adored.

And after way too much teasing and silly banter and lame puns just to crack a smile, Jisung pulled you onto his lap. He hugged you close, sighing in content when you let your head fall onto his chest. His heartbeat in your ear, paired with the sound of his breathing, was so calming as you binged several episodes of a favourite show. Occasionally, the boy pressed a kiss to your forehead or around the crown of your head. You, in turn, laced your fingers through his and played with his various silver rings and admired the black polish on his nails.

Yes. Yes, you barely paid any attention to the TV. And could you be blamed, when every time you peeked at Jisung, you could see the pure love shining from his eyes as he looked back at you with that beautiful smile of his?

And after what had been nearly six hours together, it became apparent that the day would have to end at some point. You had early classes, and Jisung worked at 9 am, which meant the two of you needed to momentarily part ways. Jisung drove the short fifteen minutes to your place, before pausing in front of the building. Looking out the car window into the night, you felt a sad little pang to your heart.

“You have everything?” Jisung inquired, offering you your bag. You took the thin straps in one hand, nodding slowly before looking up at him.

Describing what Jisung meant to you was always hard. You knew you loved him, but it was more than that. You felt safe with him, and when you were around him all your worries seemed to melt away. Especially late at night, you hated to leave.

“I don’t want to say goodbye.” You confessed, feeling a little silly. It wasn’t like you weren’t going to see him soon. After all, you went to the same university together and texted pretty much constantly. But for some reason, tonight it was even harder to step out of the car.

Jisung must have noticed, because he gently pulled the backpack from your grasp and replaced it with his hand. He slid his fingers to fit between yours, making your heart do all sorts of acrobatics in your chest. He slowly smiled at you, allowing his other hand to rest lightly on your thigh as he leaned closer to murmur,

“Let’s make it a long one then.”

He moved in to press his lips to yours, softly taking your lips in his. You responded instantly, inhaling as you moved your mouth to the rhythm Jisung set- a leisurely pace that sent your mind spiraling at his touch. His free hand found a stray piece of your hair to tuck behind your ear as he kissed the corner of your lips, then your cheek and jawline with several more slow pecks. You sighed in absolute content, eyes closing to focus on what you were feeling- the tickle of his breath on your skin before each press of his warm lips, the occasional touch of his tongue that made you shiver, the brush of his fingers as they wound around your neck to tangle into your hair.

Here you could sense the embers sparking to life in your veins as you pulled him in for another kiss. This one was firmer, more needy than before; you sucked on his bottom lip, hearing a low hum from his throat as he tugged lightly at your hair, bringing your face as close as possible to him. “I love you,” he whispered, and then again and again with every added press. Butterflies flew up your throat; his air was your only air- and the only air you felt you’d ever need or want again. 

Kissing Jisung was exhilarating. Like a drop on a rollercoaster played over and over; a stutter of your heart felt in the best kind of way.

Your fingertips landed lightly on his shoulder, before slowly bunching the fabric of his blue sweater. His kisses remained heated but came along slower; they savoured yours, each methodical roll of his tongue purposeful. He knew the best ways to rile you up- and luckily you knew his weaknesses, too. You allowed your hand to drop and brush along his forearm, dragging your fingers up his arm and around his neck. You felt him shiver at the same time you did, as his hand released yours to grasp your waist. In one swift motion Jisung pulled you over the seat to tumble onto his lap as his lips continued their abuse on your own. You responded with equal enthusiasm as you found a tight grasp on his dark locks and pulled harshly. He grunted and urged you closer, kissing you ravenously- you heard him pant out, “Y/n-”

You became acutely aware of the warmth of his thighs underneath you, the firm muscles of his chest pressed to yours, and every touch of his skin on yours. His teeth nibbling your bottom lip was more than enough to drive you near insanity, and his firm grip sliding over your hips did nothing to help that. You wanted absolutely no space between the two of you, nothing but him and you stuck together like glue. And it seemed Jisung had the same idea, as he wriggled his arms out of the sleeves of his sweater, the sleeveless white tee underneath already precarious over his shoulders. Your fingertips traced over his arms again- this time, you could feel the burning heat of his skin, the flexing of his biceps as his hold on your waist tightened, his breathing coming out unsteady. 

Through the fuzziness of your mind, you felt words you didn’t mean come from your parted lips. “Shouldn’t- shouldn’t we go?”

“No-” Jisung managed, kissing you like he might never have the chance again. His kisses trailed south, making you gasp as he found your throat and quickened his pace over your skin. And between each peck: “Five- more- minutes.”

As if you hadn’t been hoping he’d say that.

And any last whisper of a thought to go was buried once his lips found its place right under the curve of your jawline, a sensitive spot only Jisung knew about. You gasped as his teeth nipped at your skin, shooting fire through your veins as it left a mark. His hands gently rocked your hips over his, and you stuttered out a whine. Jisung’s murmurs- words completely  lost in your hazy state- were breathy and low, making you shiver as the warmth of his breath tickled your skin before his lips made contact along your neck again. Feather kisses fluttered across your collarbone, accompanied by his hands winding around your neck, thumb absentmindedly brushing your jawline. 

His words were whispered louder this time, and you finally heard them clearly. “ Let’s lose time, Princess.” He breathed as his lips touched your ear, and goosebumps erupted over your skin. They trailed along your jaw, before your mouths were locked again, and his words disappeared in favour of sloppy kisses.

Your mouth was captive to his, and content to remain so. His hands ran up and down your sides, fingers teasing the hem of your hoodie to skim his fingertips over your burning skin. It sent shivers across your body, and a soft breathy whine left your lips as your fingers found purchase in his locks again. Your brain was a jumbled mess, just every cell of your existence intent on Jisung, whose mouth worked wonders as he slid his tongue along your bottom lip, before diving in again.

You swore you could have spent hours just kissing him, bodies pressed together, air a distant and seemingly inessential thing at the moment. His hands teased you under your sweatshirt, while his lips continued their breathtaking work with yours. You felt on fire, heat simmering over every inch of your skin and burning where his lips touched you. At last, some sense seemed to come back to the both of you, and Jisung’s kisses slowed to softer, slower movements.

“Princess?” He murmured against your lips at last, and you knew that it really was time for the two of you to go.

You pulled away, breathing heavily as your eyes refocused onto Jisung in front of you. He was also panting, eyes looking back at you. For a minute you were both still; then Jisung’s hands dropped to find yours, fingers tangling between your own.

“Did you know I love you?” He whispered- like it was a promise, a secret  just for the two of you. And it only mattered that you knew it.

You ducked your head to plant a soft kiss to his swollen lips, feeling him grin into the kiss when you did. You lingered close when you leaned back, noses nearly touching, his breath tickling your face. “I think you’ve told me.”

His eyes flickered to yours, and the adoration in them made your breath catch. 

“I love you, Ji.” You whispered, brushing his bangs away from his eyes. You watched him slowly smile- the kind of smile that had you feeling something far beyond happy- before resting your head on his shoulder.

His arms wound around your waist, fingertips gently drawing circles over your back. It was silent and peaceful for a moment before Jisung spoke again.

“We really should go-”

You shushed him with a quick kiss before collapsing against his chest again. “Five more minutes.”

Jisung laughed softly, and when his grip on you tightened and his head fell against yours, you knew you’d won him over.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

stray kids masterlist

navigation

[l0ve-dov3]

where the sun shines. | 1

percy jackson x demeter! reader

summary: in which you take percy strawberry picking for the first time!

warnings: none!

word count: 606

authors note: hey hey hey! this is really short (the following parts should be longer) but i felt like i wasn’t seeing much of percy, so i wanted to fix that and write a little something for my percy girls out there. this series is betrayal free, so no need to worry about castellan. anyways, that’s all, enjoy the fic!!!!

series masterlist. | next part.

“Why do we even have a strawberry field?”

“Because…Demeter, I guess?”

It was mid summer, and you’d forced Percy to join you in picking strawberries. It was his first summer staying at camp, and since you were his closest friend, you showed him all the things you loved about this time of year. Today, that thing was strawberry picking.

“I mean, camp has some of the best strawberries I’ve ever tasted.” You started calmly, imagining the flavor of your favorite fruit, “You’re gonna love ‘em, I promise.”

Percy nodded, half believing you as he reached down for another strawberry. He didn’t care so much about picking berries, finding it a rather simple activity at a camp for demigods, but he listened to each word you spoke as if it would be your last. “I’m trusting you on this one, pollen-head.”

In the time Percy had been at camp, you had become one of his closer friends, outside of Annabeth and Grover. You’d met in his first few days when he wandered off during the bonfire, which you often did to get some alone time, leading him to find you just by the edge of the forest.

“Hello?” Percy called, clutching Riptide as he approached a moving figure. He had thought that, in his wandering, he wouldn’t find anyone by the forest; but apparently he was wrong. When you turned to him, his fist unclenched, releasing Riptide back into his pocket when he met your tearful gaze.

“Sorry for scaring you.” You chuckled, wiping your tears as you returned your eyes to the dark, unmoving forest. “I’m not really used to people finding me here.”

“Well, there’s a first time for everything, I guess.” The boy returned awkwardly, sitting next to you in an uncertain manner.

Usually, if Percy ran into someone crying, he would have pretended not to notice and walked away. But for whatever reason, and he couldn’t tell you why, he sat next to you that night; thus beginning a year-long friendship.

“What’cha thinkin’ about, fish face?” Your voice resonated in his head, pulling him away from the wistful memory.

“The day we met, when I should’ve been at my first bonfire.” He chuckled, looking at you with that cheeky grin, “I actually think about it a lot.”

“Woah there partner, you may start thinking we’re really friends.” You teased, giving him a light push as you gathered your last berries. The boy chuckled half-heartedly, not knowing why the words made him feel so off. Somewhat confused, he followed behind you with his own basket, coming to a stop as you sat under a great oak tree. “But…I guess I think about it too.”

He journeyed toward you, carefully putting his basket next to yours before settling at your side. “Oh? And here I thought we were pretending to be friends.” Percy tried to joke, nudging you gently.

“Yeah,” You sighed, “But you know, you really are a good friend Percy. I’m glad you found me in the forest that day.”

Percy’s heart pounded harder in his chest, stunning him with a sense of alarm. You looked at him with that gentle smile, and he felt light as air, staring back at you like the world was anew. A new feeling, unfamiliar and odd, wracked his body like a thousand waves. “Yeah…Yeah, I’m glad too.” He breathed, just above a whisper.

You raised a brow at his change in nature, shaking your head with a light chuckle.

Percy Jackson, you thought.

What a weird kid.

[lovepookie]

₊˚ෆ Honey - k.gb

♡ sypnosis: you’re not really sure why the sight of gyubin’s eyes start to look different one day. they had your cheeks burning when he’d get even so much as a foot away from you despite him being your best friend, and they reminded you so much of honey when the light from the window hit them just right. you’ve slowly come to realize that the big brown eyes that belonged to the exhausting and annoying loser just might be the reason for your fast heart rate too.

♡ genre: fluffy, a hint of angst, fem!reader, bestfriend’s to lovers, college au

♡ 3.7k word count

♡ warnings: light cursing, playfully mean banter & nicknames, kissing, mentions of gordon ramsey and leprechauns, cardiac arrest is mentioned exaggeratingly. please lmk if i need to add any!

♡ nano note: hello beautiful readers, this is the fic for gyubin that won the voting poll!! please look out for more polls in the future, as i have lots of fics in my drafts! hope you like this very delusional piece of writing that i wrote when i realized kim gyubin was infiltrating my bias list. (lowkey wrote this to are you sleeping alone again? by bixby,, 10/10 song) enjoy! xoxo

.♡.

Your breath hitches as you take him in for the up-teenth time that day.

This time, he sat by the window, the golden-hour rays seeping through the clear glass and hitting his side profile just right.

As you stared, you found yourself drawn to his eyes.

They were….interesting.

They bulged out in a way that made them look so big and wonderous.

They were annoyingly endearing, and the way he blinked sent goosebumps down your arms because you felt like they were barely soft closes of the eye—the very idea of him being a living breathing boy made you feel…nervous.

He was kinda perfect.

But in this odd way.

It sent a shiver down your spine when his pencil went between his thick lips, and suddenly the angle of his head resting on his large hands had his brown orbs catching the light coming through the curtains in just the right way.

They were honey.

His eyes were honey.

And you couldn’t comprehend why it had taken you so long to notice.

Maybe it was his goofy awkward stature, or his funny but tantalizing way of teasing and talking that overshadowed it all…

But my, oh my.

Kim Gyubin was a beauty—an actual looker.

And within seconds, his eyes snap over to yours.

Honey.

A smile makes it’s way onto his face, and for a moment, it was just that; a simple smile.

Then, faster than you can blink, the smile streches teasingly and you’re reminded all over again why you hated it so much.

Yet, for some reason, this time…

These cheeky actions don’t sway you out of your trance.

They couldn’t, because the way his large hands lifted in the golden hour warmth and landed at the top of his curly brown hair in the form of a puppy ear swayed your heart more than you were willing to ever admit.

He was sweet—just like honey.

And it was slow; the realization that maybe, just maybe, Kim Gyubin held a honeycomb hexagon place in your heart.

It was soft, and slow and increasingly thicker—larger, more evenly spread out;

These thoughts of Kim Gyubin.

He looked so warm as the sun rays displayed hues of orange and yellow across the expanse of his face.

It was rich and undermining; the feeling that he was oh so real, oh so cute, and oh so…an option.

He was sweet and funny and…and...what exactly were you doing?

His eyes soften as they almost disappear in happiness; brown orbs like the base of the earth you stood on, like the smell of oak in the trees that helped you breathe—just gone in seconds as he let a chuckle leave his lips.

It was an exhilarating feeling; the slow burn of Kim Gyubin—but you somehow knew you’d always end up coming back for more.

Just like honey, the thought of Kim Gyubin slowly penetrated through every fiber of your being; your thoughts learning to love every part of him—just like honey was the feeling.

It had been a painstakingly slow realization; that Kim Gyubin was this sweet.

—

It wasn’t supposed to go like this.

After your fun little run-in with your feelings, nothing was the same.

The tall third-piece to you and Gunwook’s friendship trio wasn’t the same to you.

It used to be you three against the world, but you can’t help but fathom what life could be like with Gyubin and you being more than just friends. It sucked so bad and kept you up at night sometimes.

His eyes.

His pretty smile and laugh.

Now the way he’d run over and throw his arm over your shoulders after the professor excused the morning class had your heart in your throat daily.

He did it before Gunwook could in order to use you as his “support beam” as you three walked through the campus halls. It was a race they’d play that just became a normal routine after class.

Everyday, after the class dismissal of course, they’d shoot up out of their chairs with their already packed things and scurry over to you, laughing about as they jammed their large arms and elbows around your neck, seemingly forgetting altogether that you were a very tangible and living being yourself.

It was a game.

A race.

However, what they didn’t understand was that everyday since your little epiphany, you’d so hopelessly wish that Gunwook would get to you first. And truth be told, fate was never really on your side, because for the last few days, Gunwook has been slacking.

So here Gyubin was, arms currently wrapped around your shoulders as he pulls you close into his chest. He laughs out loud freely as he sways you back and forth, and you feel your face go hot.

His laugh was so pretty and, despite hearing it all the time, it sent your heart beating faster than what you could comprehend was normal.

“Haha! I win again! What is that? fourth time in a row this week?” He laughs out, a smiley Gunwook hot on his tail with his backpack slung awkwardly across his shoulders.

Gyubins chest contracts in and out as he catches his breath; moving you to the beat of his heart in the process.

He smells nice, you note.

A little too nice.

“H-hey!-“ You stutter out as you pull away, cheeks pink and looking the most embarrassed you think you’ve ever been in front of the tall duo.

Gyubin stares down at you, smile still in his eyes as he sends you a questioning look.

“I’m sorry! Did I knock into you a little too carelessly?” He asks whilst stepping back.

Your heart skips a beat, and even thought you’re a few steps away now, you can still smell his cologne.

Without ever letting you answer him, Gyubin sends you a playfull look.

“Next time I’ll make sure to run faster and knock you off your feet altogether.” He muses, sending you a wink.

Gunwook just laughs and slings his own arms over Gyubin’s shoulder, putting him in a choke hold and raising him down to your level.

“Yah! Don’t make our Y/n flustered. Look at her cheeks already.” He teases, looking over at you and barely managing to bite back his playful gummy smile.

You can’t help but huff and roll your eyes mindlessly at the pair.

Were you seriously that easy to read?

This wasn’t good.

“Stop messing around. I’ll kill either of you if you knock me down you big fools.” You mutter, packing your things so that you can quickly get out of the two’s presence.

To be more specific; so you could get out of his presence.

Out of the corner of your eyes you see them send eachother a look. It was one of confusion, maybe even a bit of curiousity.

It made you burn inside because wow, you’re doing the exact opposite of what you intended to do and were now drawing attention to yourself and your newly odd behavior. But the boys are quick to move on when you put your backpack on and look over to them with a subtle grin in order to try and sell your supposed unbotheredness.

It seems they buy whatever it is that you’re selling, because Gyubin is quick to laugh as he tries to get out of Gunwook’s tightening grip on him. You start to walk and they follow, Gyubin clad in Gunwooks headlock as they both usher up next to you in the halls and continue their power struggle.

You can’t help but chuckle.

They were cute.

“Fine! Damn-“ Gyubin chimes up, finally giving up on getting out of the big baby’s grip.

This left him to turn his head to you, just for you to realize that you don’t think you’ve ever seen his face this close before.

“Wow- I’ve never seen you from here.” Gyubin teases, big eyes peering up at you.

“Ha-ha, so funny.” You deadpann, just on the verge of flipping him off—you hadn’t done that today and it was already lunch time.

A new record.

Still, Gyubin laughs out, a twinge of pink going up to the apples of his cheeks as his Adam’s apple bobbs up and down.

“Wow, you’re seriously irritated today huh? What happened? Did Ricky not look your way?” He questions, prying at what he believes to be is your crush. He’s got it all wrong though, Ricky’s just a friend that he and Gunwook like to tease you about.

You’re not even sure why.

One day Ricky sat next to you during a lecture and your two bafoons-for-friends had found out about a rumor that said you miraculously seduced the new blonde kid.

For a few semesters, you and Ricky would just mildly conversate but that was about all, yet still, Gyubin and Gunwook wouldn’t live it down.

All you can do is roll your eyes and continue walking, hoping Gyubin would drop the subject altogether.

I like you idiot, not him.

“Wow~ So that’s what it is! Your pretty blonde boy ignored you, huh? What did I tell you about him? I knew he’d hurt you-“

You cut Gyubin off by halting your trudge down the halls.

“Kim Gyubin, what’s it to you?” You counter boldly, face pulled into a frown.

Why was he being so protective?

It stung.

It hurt.

Because you knew it was out of friendliness, not jealousy.

Not because he reciprocated your feelings.

Not at all.

At the sight of your pissed off state, Gunwook is quick to let go of Gyubin, wide eyes of shock watching as you stride off quick without another second to spare.

Gyubin was completely taken aback.

Did Ricky really hurt you?

Did he flirt with you and lead you on like he thought he would?

Why were you so angry?

What was it to Gyubin?

He sighed as he stood up straight, the whole campus practically watching the two big boys in the hall and the interaction they just had with you.

Still, he paid no mind to them.

Where were you off to?

“You need to lay off the questions KimGyu…” Gunwook speaks up, placing a hand on his friends shoulder.

“…and if you’re so worried and like her so much, why don’t you just go after her?” He finishes, gaining a scared and irritated look from Gyubin.

Gyubin knows he’s right.

It was now or never.

“I really hate you right now y’know?” Gyubin utters, then with one swift movement he’s patting Gunwook on the chest and zipping off after you.

Gunwook let’s a laugh slip.

Was today the day his bestfriends finally admitted their undying love for eachother?

“You hate me because I’m right!” Gunwook shouts after Gyubin’s awkwardly trailing figure. He then lets a grin grace his face, pretty eyes curiving, completely unable to contain his gummy smile.

And like clockwork, he’s turning a corner and coming face to face with his own crush.

His eyes soften for a second, completely embarrassed that he ran into her to begin with.

“Oh- I’m- I’m sorry!” He let’s out shyly, hand going to grab her arm as she almost stumbles off of her feet. It was electric, the feeling, and for a second her eyes meet his before they shy away at the same time.

“It’s alright…you’re Gunwook right?” She mumbles out, looking down to his large hand still clad on her arm.

He’s shocked for a moment, completely entranced by the fact his crush knew his name too.

This wasnt a dream?

“Yeah, It’s Park Gunwook. Thank you for remembering…” He says, stars in his eyes as he speaks smoothly. For a moment she laughs, and Gunwook’s smile falters.

Then he realizes he’s still holding her and he very much wants to sink into the floor beneath him.

“Oh- I’m sorry! That’s not mine haha-“ He laughs out, deciding to make a joke of it anyways. She laughs, the prettiest laugh he thinks he’s ever heard, then she brushes her hair away from her face.

And just like that, Gunwook thinks he understands Gyubin.

He thinks he completely gets him now.

—

“Y/n!? Hello?” Gyubin shouts, peaking his head into almost every empty classroom on the level you disappeared on.

Yes it was lunch time, but he wasn’t able to find you in the cafeteria or at the restaurants across the way. The only other idea of where you’d be was a little corner somewhere in an empty classroom.

Sighing because he’d just searched the last empty classroom on that floor, he decides to close the door and lean his back against it as he looks up at the ceiling in deep thought.

Where could you be?

He was all out of options.

After a few seconds of moping about and praying you’d just appear in front of him, his brain suddenly starts to work, and within the next seconds he’s fumbling to take his phone out of his pocket. After successfully fishing it out of his baggy jeans, he opens his phone app and immediately scrolls to find your name.

You were labeled ‘passenger leprechaun🧟‍♀️👩🏻‍🍳🧔🏻‍♀️🧌🛒🫶🏻’ as courtesy of him obtaining his drivers license before you. The leprechaun part was—no not because, you were ‘magically delicious’, your words not his—but because once you once joked that you were his lucky charm due to you landing him free food at restaurants whenever you were together. This name followed by a slew of emojis were things he added overtime because of random moments he cherished with you.

He put a zombie emoji because of the one time he and Gunwook knocked on your door in the middle of a Tuesday night—they had bought cinnamon rolls but, alas, their dorms didn’t have an oven. You answered the door with bed head and mismatched pajamas, completely unaware that you’d be greeted at such a time when the world was to be dead. He called you a zombie. You flipped them both off. Regardless, you allowed them in to wreck your kitchen whilst you slept. You woke up to cinnamon rolls, so it all worked out just fine, Gyubin reasoned.

The chef emoji is actually something completely unrelated to food. Once, you two were in an argument and randomly you had put on this British accent and puffed your chest up to his—which made him blush furiously—then, you proceeded to cuss him out as if you were Gordon Ramsey. “Fuck out of my kitchen! Don’t just stand there you big fucking muffin!” You shouted before snatching the Wii controller from his hands as he bent over in a fit of laughter. He couldn’t even remember what game you two were playing or why you two had fought, he just remembered how hard he laughed. He swore that was the first time his heart skipped a beat.

The bearded woman emoji was because you claimed once that you could grow a better beard than Gunwook. That was all—Gyubin just held so much admiration for you after that because you were so shameless. It made him laugh and get all giddy too. He didn’t really know why at the time.

The troll was because you were ugly. Not really, quite the opposite actually, but he added it to get on your nerves and to convince himself that you were. The shopping cart was because once you three found an abandoned shopping cart and he pushed it around with you inside it at a park. Finally, the hand-heart was added very recently when he found himself staring at how small your hands were compared to his after he had forced you to complete the gesture.

He’d laugh and smile and cheese at a picture of you posing and completing his heart begrudgingly.

He stared at it for hours.

But now that he’s eyeing down the funny face you’re making in your contact photo, his heart is racing in a way that is making him very sure of himself and his next choices.

Without another second to spare, Gyubin is dialing your number, heart beating out of his chest as the receiving end rings—as he waits for you to pick up earnestly.

One ring.

No pick up.

He starts to pace back and forth in the hallway.

Two rings.

No pick up.

His hands go up to his mouth, wondering if he should break his sober streak of two months of not biting his nails.

Three rings.

“What do you want Gyu?”

Your voice suddenly booms through the phone speakers and oh my god Gyubin’s heart feels like it’s moving so fast, he might be going into cardiac arrest.

“Y/n! I- I have to tell you something.” He blurts out, eyes as big as flying saucers because what the fuck, is he really about to do this?

“Go ahead…” You mutter nonchalantly, and he swears he feels even more worried because of your upset tone.

“…should I come find you?” You ask a second later.

“No! I just need to tell you that- I kind of- maybe-“

He hears the absence of people talking on the other side of the line, and wow are you really isolating yourself right now?

Were you really that upset?

Is this truly you and him, alone in different places, left alone to nothing but eachother’s words in a place silent enough to hear a pin drop?

Is he really going to spill his guts right now?

He felt a burn in his throat, and he wished he could eat something to soothe it and unleash whatever it was that was stuck in his airways and preventing him from getting his words out.

Something warm and soft like honey.

Just…something.

He paces towards the end of the hall, readying himself for any outcome.

“Y/n, the truth is, I know we’re friends and I really like that but-“

“Do you want to stop being friends?” You ask, complete defeat in your voice.

“No! I-“ He’s quick to shut you down.

He really doesn’t know what to do, what the fuck was he doing right now!?

“I-…Stupid, I’m in love with-“

Gyubin rounds a corner and before he can finish his sentence, his eyes are locked onto one’s of honey.

Honey.

Smooth, warm, honey-like orbs that’d easily cure him—yet it seems to do quite the opposite.

You start to walk towards him, eyes locked onto him.

And then you stop when the last word drops from his mouth.

“…you.”

You both continue to stare at each other for a bit as you stand quaint and out of breath at the revelation that was Gyubin’s last sentence.

Your hand drops down with your cell phone, but never once do your eyes leave his.

And you hang up.

You hang up the call.

He can hear it go silent.

He can see it all happen.

And he knows you heard what he said.

Stupid, I’m in love with you.

He’s in love with you.

And for a moment, he watches your cheeks burn pink, and a smile raise to your face.

For a moment he’s speechless all over again.

Then before his mind can register it, his legs are moving and he’s walking towards you.

The corners of his lips are rising.

His arm is lowering as he shoves his phone back into his pocket.

His pearly whites are on display and suddenly the honey in his eyes disappear because he’s bending over quickly and engulfing you in a hug. Gyubin feels your heart beating just as fast as his, confirming you feel the same.

He was your stupid too.

“Oh my goooood!~ Stupid where were you?” He wines out, very awkward and new to the energy that was just created in the studio.

You laugh and sway his big self back and forth whilst patting his back comfortingly.

“I went to get a coffee and then stop by my apartment…but what was that Gyu? Kim Gyubin what did you say on the phone?” You tease quietly, laughing as your cheeks burned red.

He pulls away quick and shoots a glare your way, grabbing your hand and lacing it with his. For as long as he could, he was going to avoid that question.

His pride would never let him face it.

He was a goner.

“Anyways, your class is in twenty minutes, let’s go find Gunwook-“ He says, trying to change the subject, but his hands interlaced with yours told you everything was different now as he dragged you through the hall.

“Why do we need to find him? Are you in love with him too?”

Gyubin halts his actions, staring off into the abyss as his tongue connects with the expanse of his inner cheek.

You stifle your giggles as it looks like he’s really working out what to do next in that small little brain of his.

So you take him in.

The beauty of his side profile; the sun once again finding homage across his skin. He lets a smile raise to his face and there it goes again; honey crescent eyes turning to stare back at you.

Like wind that blows swiftly across the night, he glances over your features naturally too—it feels like you had been truly seen for the first time.

Maybe he owned a bit more than one hexagon.

Just maybe.

“…I don’t know, is Gunwook my girlfriend?” He says nonchalantly, raising an eyebrow at you with that cute smile on his face.

You blush and cock your head to the side.

“What? Does that make me your girlfriend?” You question.

Gyubin shifts to hold both of your hands and before you can register, he’s leaning in and pecking your lips quick. Your heart feels like it shatters and then is put back together to something even greater.

It was a feeling you never knew you could feel for your best friend.

And Kim Gyubin was at the center of it all.

It felt…sweet.

He pulls away, and before you’re ever able to gather how to react to what just played out, he opens his pretty plush lips one more time.

“I don’t know, does it? Are you my girlfriend?”

And he leans; leans back with a smile as he peers down at you through his lashes, your hands still clasped in his.

The sun catches his eyes again.

And it all makes sense.

Honey.

2024 © lovepookie

♡ please do not plagarize, repost, copy or translate any of my works. thank you.

[bloodynereid]

Reapers & Ravens

<< prev | chapter i | next >>

pairings: jordan li x oc

tw: canonical violence and gore, allusions/talk about sex, alcohol and drug consumption and misuse (i don't condone the actions of the characters so remember to drink wisely), A LOT of mentions of death, iffy morals?? - if there are any more pls lmk

description: the story of a girl. a girl cursed by compound v to live a life without touch.

a/n: hiii and welcome to the first chapter of my new fic. I haven't written a multi-chapter fic in a while so be patient with me. some little disclaimers: as of the moment of writing this chapter i have only seen the first 3 eps of gen v so if something doesn't work plot wise with future eps i will try to come back and change it, secondly i do not support chance perdomo's actions - i felt like this needed to be stated cause his character andre will be a prominent part of the story and i would change it but he literally is the only one that really makes sense in his role in vic's backstory. vic's wonderful roommate was created all thanks to one of my mutuals (not sure if you want me to mention you by name) so all credit goes to them for gemma. FINALLY i hope you enjoy! the second chapter should be out soon and i'm always open to feedback so lmk your thoughts either in the comments or in an ask. love you and ty for taking the time to read my fic - my a/n will not be this long all the time i promise.

19 years ago…

A little girl lay peacefully in her wooden cot, the walls surrounding her were painted in a beautiful pastel lilac and a snowflake mobile lay spinning above her little head. The night was serene, the wind rustled the leaves of the great oak outside the girl’s window and a soft lullaby was echoing through the room.

The girl’s mother smiled down at her perfect bundle of joy as she laid the pads of her fingers right against the soft silky skin of her daughter’s hand. Everything was perfect for another few seconds before the mother started to feel herself fade away. She deliriously looked down at her hand where she suddenly saw her skin going gray.

The baby’s eyes flew open and she let out a happy gurgle as her mother started to wither away in front of her just because she held her daughter’s little hand.

“I love you my darling girl.” Were the last words that came out of the mother’s mouth before her soul was taken far far away. Too far for her daughter to follow.

The second that the tingly feeling that the baby experienced faded away she let out a loud cry. Her mama wasn’t moving and she looked all wrong. The little girl cried and cried and cried until finally the door to her nursery flew open.

Her papa filled the doorway as he let out a horrified gasp before kneeling next to his wife. His dead wife.

“Victoria, what have you done?”

Present Day…

I pressed skip to the song playing on my phone and shifted my gaze to the flashing scenery, music resonating through my headphones as I was being driven to Godolkin. It was absolutely insane that I was actually doing it. I was actually going to GodU. The whole situation just felt so unreal. Distantly I heard a voice calling out so with practiced precision I moved my headphones away from my ears. 

“Sorry, could you repeat that?”

“Of course Miss. I was just saying that we’re nearly there.”

“Ok thanks Rob.” 

I sent him a smile and replaced my headphones before taking a moment to examine my newest pair of gloves, the carefully crafted design on top of the white leather made me smile. Dad didn’t really pay that much attention to me ever since the incident™ but at least he seemed proud of me for getting into GodU. He had gifted me these gloves after stuttering out that they had once belonged to my mother.

I promised myself that I would try to wear them as much as possible since I barely had anything to remember her by anymore… other than the power my parents decided to inject me with. Life-force absorption isn’t all that common, as my relatives put it: ‘those powers… they’re a curse!’

Everything that touches me dies basically. It’s how my mother died and it’s how I kill plants and sometimes people (by accident I swear). I absorb their energy and it sort of works like a drug - I get a shot of life. Other people aren’t so lucky, they slowly turn into a gray statue and die.

Sometimes I’m able to stop before they're totally gone but with the potency of my powers they’re kaput by just 3 seconds of physical touch. I know it sucks, I can’t even shake hands for Christ’s sake!

“Miss? Miss?” I’m shaken out of my string of thoughts when I heard Rob’s voice echoing through the interior of the car.

“Yes yup sorry.” I took off my headphones and quickly shoved them into my canvas bag before looking out the window. There stood Godolkin University, the end goal of all my relentless studying and hard work.

“We have arrived. Are you okay Miss?”

“Yes I’m more than okay Rob. Thanks for driving me.”

“Of course, do you need any help with any of your boxes?” He asked as he unlocked the car and we both stepped out into the warm September air.

“It should be fine but thanks Rob really. I’ll see you at Christmas?”

“Definitely Miss Oaks, have a good semester.” He finished placing your 3 boxes and suitcase onto one of the many trolleys and sent me a smile.

“Thanks.” I gave him a little wave as he got back into the SUV and drove off. Turning to the big metal gates I took a deep breath to steady myself. Time for the start of the rest of my life.

Okay maybe I really should have asked Rob for help with these idiotic boxes. I’m a goddamn super hero. Why was I struggling so much with this? I was already regretting this as I walked past the Lamplighter School for Crimefighting, failing to push both the trolley and my suitcase. 

“You look like you need some saving from a gracious prince.” I heard an eerily familiar voice as I looked up from my tortuous task. Andre Anderson. An old friend whose friendship was sort of forced on us by our dads, who happened to have been in the same class at Godolkin.

“Andre! Fucking hell I’m so glad to see you, please help me. I’m dying here.” I said dramatically as I sunk down to the ground next to all my stuff.

“You know you should consider majoring in Performing Arts if you keep up with that.” Andre said with a smirk but he still started to help by pulling my large suitcase towards the freshman dorms.

“Haha. You know I’ll be joining you at Crimefighting, my powers will probably render any makeup artist dead.”

“Oh please become an actress I would love to see that.” I narrowed my eyes at him and lightly punched him in the arm as he took a sip of his latte.

“Hey!”

“You deserved that.”

“Ok maybe I deserved that. So Vic, what are your first impressions?”

“It’s huge for one thing.”

“That’s what she said.” I rolled my eyes at his immature sense of humor before stealing the latte out of his hand and taking a sip, only to scrunch my face.

“What the fuck do you put in this? It’s literally pure sugar.”

“Hangover cure.” He said with a shrug as he stole the latte back. “You should come hang tonight. I can introduce you to everyone.”

“Mmh sure. I think you mean getting me into trouble.”

“When have I ever done something like that before?” Andre asked as his eyes twinkled.

“Oh just about every time I hang out with you.” Stopping in front of the freshman dorm room Andre looked at me and tried to make his usual puppy eyes.

“Please.”

“Fuck fine. You need to stop doing that.”

“Why? It works every single time.”

“I’ll see you later then?”

“Definitely, enjoy being around the freshers.” Andre gave me a military salute making me roll my eyes as I started dragging all my stuff into the building.

Weaving my way through a shitton of supes was way harder than I expected, at least I had a jacket on or a few of them would be very dead right now. Finally and by finally I mean, FINALLY I found my room, I clutched the handle of the door and pushed in when I realized I definitely had the wrong room. Two girls were already all set up in the room and swiveled to look at me weirdly.

“Uh hi? Shit I’m sorry, I'm in the wrong room.”

“Wait! Are you Victoria Oaks?” asked the shorter blonde one.

“Uh yes?”

“Holy shit I follow you on Insta hi! I’m Emma and this is Marie.”

“Oh cool hi.”

“I can’t believe you’re on the same floor as us. Want to go check out the Golden Boy’s workout? We’re going to head down in a few.” Right, okay, I should make friends. So time to compromise.

“Uh sure? What exactly would we be doing?”

“Oh you’ll see.” Emma says with a mischievous smile.

“Righttt that sounds incredibly ominous but I’ll see you in a few. I’ve got to go put down all my stuff.”

“Ok see you!” I smile and retreat back into the busy hallway but not before catching Marie’s remark.

“Who is she exactly?”

“DO YOU LIVE UNDER A ROCK?” Emma replied loudly, making me snort. Taking a deep breath I once again clutch the handle of the door across the hall and push it open to see a girl lying on the bed closest to the door. She smiles up at me and bounds over to the door in an instant.

“Hi! You must be Victoria. I’m Gemma, nice to meet you.” She says before extending her hand. I carefully move my gloved hand over to hers and shake it.

“Hi, it’s a pleasure to meet you too.” I took a moment to scan her appearance, she was absolutely stunning. Her red hair trailed down her shoulders and her smile seemed to light up the very room. “You’re so beautiful wow.”

“Aww thank you so much! You are absolutely stunning as well, like this blonde totally suits the whole vibe you give off.”

“Is it a good vibe?”

“Oh definitely.”

“Ok whew I was worried for a second there.” We start laughing and Gemma helps me sort out all my stuff in the huge boxes.

“Actually with the talk about appearances would it be okay if I ever shift into you? I love being able to get to know people more through their faces and stuff but only if you’re cool with it.”

“Shifting? You mean like shape shifting.” I ask as I look over to her curiously, picking up yet another pair of gloves which I placed on one of the shelves in the closet.

“Yup!”

“Oh I wouldn’t mind at all, that's such a cool power!” Her entire face brightened as her hair slowly started to shift and match the shade of my bleached one.

“Brilliant! Thank you. So… what’s your power?”

“Oh umm here let me show you.” 

Carefully taking out one of my older plants out of the box I place it on the window sill and pull off my leather glove. Within just a few seconds of my fingertips placed on top of the delicate leaves the plant withered away and died. I could feel the zap of energy encase my being and I smiled. Life absorption feels incredible, it’s so encompassing. You quite literally feel full of life. For a second as I turned around I could see the blood and energy from Gemma’s cell move around her body but I shook off the stupor.

“Wow. Can you just do that with plants or?”

“Uh no people as well. Anything alive that touches my skin just dies.”

“So you can’t do human contact?”

“Nope, unless I want them dead.”

“What about sex?” I chuckled at her slightly incredulous tone.

“I think you need to reevaluate what you consider sex.”

“Oh okay wow” Gemma laughed and we continued to set up my plants on the windowsill and chatted about our favorite movies, surprisingly enough we had pretty different tastes but there were a few that we had in common - like our love for Clue. That was when we heard a knock on the door, Gemma looked at me with a clear question in her eyes.

“I met our dorm neighbors a few minutes ago and they invited me to go see Golden Boy train.”

“Ooo I’m so coming with you.” Gemma shifted her hair back to red and waltzed over to open the door as I finished placing my last plant pots.

“What’s the deal with his workout sessions anyway?” I ask as she pulls open the door to find Emma and Marie standing sort of awkwardly outside.

“Oh he’s like super hung, and when he blazes up his clothes all melt away.” Emma answers my question but when she catches sight of Gemma her jaw drops.

“Right, uh Marie and Emma meet my roommate Gemma.”

“Holy fuck you’re so hot.” Emma says, almost as if the words involuntarily jump out of her mouth.

“Why thank you, love, you are as well.” Gemma flashes her a dazzling smile.

“Alright then enough flirting. I have been promised to see some hot supes. Let’s go!” I exclaim as the little group makes their way towards the arena. Hanging back so I was walking next to Marie, we watched the two girls flirt.

“Oh that’s going to be very interesting. I don’t believe we’ve talked much yet, but I’m Vic. It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you too. Emma gave me a full on lecture on why I should know who you are but I kind of zoned out halfway through.” I let out a laugh at her admission and gently nudged my shoulder with hers.

“Oh don’t worry, it’s kind of nice having someone who has no idea who I am or who my dad is.”

“I’m glad, everything is so…”

“A lot, I know. My dad homeschooled me for the last few years of high school so being among this many people, especially supes can be overwhelming. If you ever need to chat or just need someone to hang out with, I'm your girl.” Marie gave me a grateful smile, “So what are your supe powers?”

“Blood manipulation.” My eyebrows shot up and I looked at her with astonishment.

“Holy fuck that’s awesome. I basically drain the life force of any living being.”

“Really?”

“Yup so don’t touch my skin unless you’re covered up.” I throw up jazz hands to showcase my gloved hands which elicits a short laugh out of Marie.

“Got it. You’re really nice by the way. Everyone here seems so like aggressively in your face.”

“Yeah I know. I’ve had to live around supes my whole life, it really isn’t at all like Vought or the movies say.”

We finally arrive at the arena and I take a seat next to her, Emma is sitting next to Marie and Gemma is still trying and succeeding at flirting with the blonde. Leaning over the railing I peer out into the main arena and spy Andre making his rounds with the group.

“Yo Andre.” I scream out into the stadium making him turn around, trying to find me in the crowd. The people seated around us had now turned to look at me as I smiled down at him. He smiled back and tilted his head towards where Golden Boy and some other dude were gearing up to fight, inviting me to come down.

“You sure?”

“Yeah get down here.” I turn towards my new group of friends and say: “You guys okay if I go down?”

“Since when do you know Andre Anderson? You know what don’t answer that question go, go, go. Tell us everything when you get back.” Gemma and Emma urged me out of my seat as Marie kind of sat there awkwardly but with an encouraging smile on her face.

I carefully picked my way down the stands and vaulted over the fence to get over to the sidelines of the fight. I poke at Andre’s shoulder as I fall in next to him as I watch the fight playing out. Golden Boy was obviously winning and wow Luke Riordan really had some moves.

“Oh hey Vic. It’s earlier than I expected to see you.”

“Well I did want to honor you with my presence more than once today.” I sent him a sarcastic smile which made him respond by pushing my shoulder.

“Wow Andre I can’t believe you have more friends than us, I feel betrayed.” I turned to the source of the voice and there stood a beautiful blonde, who had a big smile on her face. Little butterflies exploded in my stomach - how was everyone so damn attractive?

“Cate, darling, I hate to break this to you like this but I have a lot more friends than just you guys.”

“Oh how will I live knowing this information?” Cate said with a dramatic gasp and pretended to faint into Andre’s arms. He just pushed her up and they stuck out their tongues at each other.

“You guys are going to be perfect for each other. Cate Dunlap meet Victoria Oaks.”

“Hi! Nice to meet you.” I say as I extend a gloved hand only to be met with a similarly gloved hand, only that it was covered in brown leather instead of white.

“Oh my god, your gloves! I love these designs, you have got to tell me where you get yours. My collection needs adding to.” She says excitedly as she quickly shakes my hand and turns it over to inspect the handiwork. We continue to nerd out about gloves as the fight finishes and Andre throws Golden Boy some clothes, before they head over to us.

“Hi sweetheart you did great out there,” Cate throws her arms around him and they make out for a few seconds as I kind stand there awkwardly with Andre.

“Do they usually do this?”

“Yes. There is so much PDA I’m surprised they haven’t had sex in front of us yet.” Andre’s voice was raised in volume a little at the end which caught the attention of the couple.

“Oh right, Luke meet my new best friend, this is Vic.” Cate said as fixed her now slightly messed up lipstick.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you Vic. Andre has told us a lot about you.” 

I cringed but shook my head trying to forget about the many instances the idiot had nearly gotten us arrested and the one time he did.

“Yeah well, I hope it’s all nice things because any time I do spend with this guy somehow ends with us breaking a law.”

“Oh we can relate. I remember this one time…” We started making our way out of the arena as Luke started to recount one of the insane adventures that Andre managed to string them into. It felt nice to actually be part of a group again and it was easy. Way easier that I thought it would be.

After a few hours of touring the grounds and eating at Vought-a-Burger, I finally trudged back to my dorm absolutely exhausted. Not that it wasn’t great getting to know Cate, Andre and Luke but the whole day had absolutely drained me.

When I finally opened the door to my room I was surprised to find Emma sitting on top of Gemma’s bed reading some random fashion magazine.

“Uh Emma?” 

The girl basically jumped out of her position on the bed and whirled to face me. Suddenly her entire body shifted and there stood Gemma, looking rather embarrassed with a sheepish smile on her face.

“Look, I asked her if I could change into her body! This wasn’t without consent and she’s just so stunning and it’s the-”

“Hey hey, Gem. Chill, I get it, you have a crush on our neighbor.” I smiled a little teasingly as I tried to reassure her. Thankfully Gemma’s panicked look faded and was replaced with a grateful smile.

“Sorry.”

“It’s all good, you guys would look great together.”

“Do you think that Emma might actually like me?”

“Oh Gem, I think anyone would be lucky to have you. From the few hours that I’ve known you, you're genuinely one of the sweetest people out there. And that’s saying something cause you’re also a supe.” I gave her a small smile before opening up my arms to signal for her to hug me. She flew into my grasp and I was careful not to let my exposed face anywhere near her.

“Thanks I needed this.”

“Hey I’m here anytime, just don't touch any skin.” I sent her a teasing smile when she finally pulled away. “How about we have a chill night in? There’s this new show I’ve been meaning to start.”

“Great! We can have our first girl’s night.”

“Fuck yeah! I’ll just get changed into my pajamas and grab some of my snacks from the stash.”

After spending the night doing absolutely nothing except watching Yellowjackets and raiding snacks from the vending machine after my relatively large stash ran out, Gemma and I woke up sugar hungover. Somehow we managed to make it down to the cafe and bought some coffee, which was thankfully enough to wake us up.

“So you heading over to Performing Arts?” I finally asked Gemma after the caffeine started to kick in.

“Yeah, Marie and Emma said they were going to meet me there as well so…”

“Can you believe we’re actually doing this?” I ask as we slowly walk out onto the common, I readjust my favorite pair of black gloves, knowing that if we were doing any sort of combat sessions at Crimefighting I would probably end up damaging my mom’s ones.

“Nope, it’s still surreal that I actually got accepted.”

“What are you talking about? You literally have some of the most interesting and versatile powers.”

“Yeah but I’m on scholarship, if that somehow falls through…” I smiled at her reassuringly as we stopped at the fork in the walk.

“Look you’re super fucking smart and you have more control over your power than most of the supes I know. Gem, you’re going to be great and never let anyone tell you otherwise.” Gemma smiled at me after she thanked me and we both went our separate ways - time to see what orientation was going to be like.

I navigated through the slew of students making their way through the halls of the Lamplighter School for Crimefighting when I suddenly bumped into someone. Thank whatever entity out there that I had just thrown out the remainder of my iced coffee.

“Shit sorry- Oh.” I caught the eye of the person I had bumped into as I helped them gather the assortment of books, all Brink’s for the looks of it.

“Right yeah, it’s fine just be more careful next time.” The person just kind of ran off after I helped them with the books. Strange and kind of rude but also so very attractive. I smiled at myself, if bumping into people meant getting to meet more enticing supes then this year was going to be incredible.

“Hey! Hey! Victoria. Vic. Vicky.” I finally stopped and turned to look at Andre who had been relentlessly pursuing me for the past few minutes. Orientation went well and I got to meet some of the other supes - mostly it was just for selfies but still.

“You know I hate when people call me that.”

“Well it was a last resort, you weren’t stopping.”

“You don’t think there may have been a reason behind that? Maybe my dad is dying and this is the last chance I get to hear his voice.” I remarked in an overly bored tone, I could already tell from Andre’s whole face that he was about to invite me to do something illegal… again.

“I know for a fact that isn’t real since it hasn’t been on any gossip sites-”

“Wait since when do you frequent gossip sites?” I ask incredulously as he somehow starts to lead me towards the opposite direction I was going in the first place.

“Not the point. You’re coming out with us tonight.”

“Do I get a say in the matter or?”

“Nope, go get changed into something hot and meet me in front of Lamplighter in half an hour.”

“Excuse you, but I always look hot. Thank you very much.” I say scoffing but we both know I’m silently agreeing with his plans - like always.

“Oh I know darling. Now hurry up.” He pushed me softly (as softly as a supe could push someone) and I made my way to my dorm.

“Hey Gem. Good day?” I said as I threw my bag on the bed and started to look through my outfits, I needed something that would cover all exposed skin - I really didn’t need another incidental death on my roster.

“Yup! We really should plan out more ways to- wait what are you looking for?”

“Andre invited me out with his friends you’re welcome to come if you want.”

“Nope it’s okay. I’ve got some auditions I need to tape.” She said with a smile.

“You sure?”

“Yeah I’m not really in the mood for partying tonight, orientation was a lot.”

“Tell me about it. You can use my bedroom if you need any extra space by the way.” I shouted out from behind the wall as I laid out the different materials that made up my outfits - it was a mismatch of blacks, whites and reds. Cute.

“Thank you! Holy shit you look fucking incredible.” Gemma remarked as I walked back into her bedroom now wearing my going out outfit.

“Why thank you. I haven’t been out clubbing for a while so I thought it would be best to go big.”

“Always the best choice. Make sure you don’t get too smashed okay?”

“I will try. Byeee.” Her laughter echoes into the hallway and the door shuts behind me. I flash the security guard a smile before leaving the freshman dorm building and making my way to the Crimefighting school. 

“Oh god please don’t tell me Andre has dragged you into one of his schemes.” I say when I catch sight of Marie standing next to Cate, Luke, Andre and someone I had a vague inkling that I’ve met before.

“Vic! You came!” Cate smiled and pulled me into a little hug when I was close enough to the group.

“Hi guys.” I said with a smile before turning to the stranger of the group. “I don’t believe we’ve met yet, I’m Victoria.”

“We have actually, I’m Jordan. You bumped into me this morning.” A giddy smile slowly spread out over my face.

“Oh right, you were the hot and mysterious person I nearly killed this morning. Pleasure to meet you.” A dusting of blush appeared on their face and we held eye contact which was annoyingly broken by Andre’s screech of:

“You nearly killed someone AGAIN?”

“Ok dude chill it really wasn’t that bad.” I roll my eyes at his antics and thankfully the exchange gets interrupted by Luke.

“Come on, we don't want to be late.” Luke said after removing his arms from around Cate and heading over to the driver’s seat. Andre makes a whole thing of opening up the passenger seat for Kate and I get into the back seat with Jordan sliding in next to me. 

The entire car ride was spent awkwardly avoiding whatever feud Jordan and Marie had going one and trying to get everyone better. Cate and I talked more about our glove choices, mine were black with a red heart detail and hers were stunningly sculpted brown ones. The playlist was (thankfully) controlled by Jordan, which ended up with music that could have been stolen from my own playlist.

When we finally got to our first destination, my jaw dropped - I had only been to Seven tower a handful of times. Mostly to deal with lawsuits from accidental deaths, there were surprisingly few of them for the amount of death that seemed to follow me everywhere. Luke and Cate managed to get us up on the roof, and I couldn’t help but wonder if Homelander could literally hear us up here. Better not to think about that.

So I took a hit of coke after Andre passed me his little vial - drugs were a way to kind of quell the murderous impulses my power demanded plus they were fun to do when around friends. Doing coke alone does not have the same effect - trust me.

“Hell yes! I forgot you did this stuff.” Andre said as I spied Luke wandering off to talk to Marie.

“Eh sometimes. I usually stick to weed or shrooms. The harder stuff messes with this whole thing when I’m hungover.” I said as I raised my hands to try and illustrate my point, wow okay this was strong stuff. I could quite literally already feel the haze starting to form around my brain.

“What exactly is your power anyway?” Jordan asked as we continued to do some more bumps.

“Oh well basically everything I touch dies.”

“So your skin is poisonous?”

“No, I absorb energy or rather life force. Here.” I wander over to one of the randomly placed potted plants and take off my glove, only to place my fingers on the red petals. The plant started to shrivel up and die about a second later.

“Awesome.” We were both clearly starting to feel the effects of the coke. We started to laugh as we made our way back to the main group.

The next stop on our little unsanctioned outing was some fancy club that Andre had been raving about the entire drive over there from the tower. I lean against one of the golden walls as I watch Cate do her thing.

“We don’t have one but you don’t give a fuck. Right?”

“I do not give a fuck.” The doorman leads us straight into the club and I smile widely at Cate.

“You are such a fucking badass.”

“I know.” 

After getting some much needed drinks I lean back against the red seats and stretch out my arms. This many people were making me antsy and drugs and alcohol can only settle so much of my power.

“So yeah, basically this fucking idiot decided we should have a lightsaber duel in the middle of Grand Central and someone must have called the cops cause they randomly pulled up and we were arrested for ‘disrupting the peace’.” 

The entire group burst out laughing and one of the many stories I had from when Andre and I would hang out as teens - we sort of drifted ever since he got to GodU but it felt just like old times.

“Alright, alright, enough embarrassing stories about our arrests. You guys in?” Andre asks as he holds up a bag of Molly and Jordan snatches it from his hold.

“Is that cocaine?”

“Nah we finished all the coke. It’s Molly. Vic?”

“Ooo yes please.” Jordan smiles charmingly and passes the little bag over to me. 

“Hey I don’t really fuck with powder. But I do microdose shrooms.” Luke says with an almost triumphant tone as he also pulls out another bag.

“Hey where do you get yours from? I need a good dealer now that I’ve moved from LA.” I ask Luke before passing the bag containing Molly back to Andre.

“I’ll send you my guy’s number.”

“Thanks man.”

“So, what do you say, freshman?”

“Uh-”

“Hey Marie, you don’t have to - we are not trying to peer pressure you but… it’ll be funnn.” I smile widely and wiggle my eyebrows making her laugh, Cate also joins in on my teasing and she relents.

“Yes, let's go Marie.”

“Whooo. Come on, let's dance.” 

That’s when I suddenly feel a little part of me sober up, fuck. It was a bad memory - the last time I danced was homecoming. A really sweet guy had asked me out and of course I had said yes. It was one accidental touch of my cheek against his and a few seconds later he laid dead in the middle of the dance floor. I ended up changing to homeschool after that whole incident, there had been issues across the years but overall this was one of the worst.

“Vic?” I shake out of my stupor as I look up at Cate extending her hand in invitation.

“Nah I don’t dance.” She must have seen something in my eyes cause she smiled softly and retracted her hand.

“Ok, just know you’re missing out on a great time.” She pulled Marie off towards the dance floor and I took a sip of the whiskey I had ordered.

“Any reason you’re not dancing out there? I remember all those clubs we sneaked into and you fucking killed it everytime.” Andre asked as he leaned back against the cushions.

“Andre, darling, that’s not proper club conversation. I’m going to go get another drink, you guys want anything?”

“I’ll come with you.” Jordan exclaimed as they sprang up from his seat and started following me towards the bar. I could quite literally feel the smirk that Andre and Luke had on their faces. Suddenly I heard a small pop next to me and I turned to see that Justin had shifted.

“You want anything specific?” I asked with a slight tilt of my head. 

“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”

“Wise choice.” I winked at them and leaned over to wave to the bartender. He, obviously trying to flirt, ended up giving us a bunch of free vodka shots and 2 whiskies, the top shelf stuff.

“So how are you liking GodU so far?”

“It’s greatish. There’s so many bloody supes.” Jordan just raised their eyebrows at me as she helped me carry over the drinks.

“Oh I definitely know what you’re talking about. Have you met Rufus yet?”

“No?” I look at them in question and she looks at me with relief.

“Pray that you don’t.” We dissolved into laughter for a second time that night and finally set our drinks down at the booth.

“Well don’t you two look cozy.” Luke remarked.

“You changed? Why?”

“Cause I fucking felt like it. And more free drinks.”

“Here here.” Luke agreed as we each held up a vodka shot.

“To the Seven.”

“No way.” I look at Luke in minor awe, he actually got a place in the motherfucking Seven.

“I literally just told you.”

“Yeah well you do know that I’m an open book, plus you have to invite me to the tower sometime. I crush so hard on A-train… imagine that man in bed.”

“And that is exactly why he won’t be inviting you.” I added after taking my shot. 

“It’s the least surprising surprise ever but congrats. You deserve it. When are you leaving?”

“More like when do you get to be number one?”

“Please, the trustees think I’m too confusing. I’ll never get number one.”

“They put you in the orientation video.”

“Yeah so they can suck their own dicks about how progressive they are.”

I listen to each of them debating the merits and the downsides (mostly Andre) of getting ranked number one when I start to feel it. Goddammit. Every life force around me seemed to pulse. I could see literal life running through each person’s veins and the conversation started to grow further and further away. 

Quickly fishing in the pocket of my jacket I pulled out a few tablets of the experimental drug Vought was testing out on well… just me. I place one of the cylindrical neon green pills on my tongue and wash it back with another shot of vodka. A few seconds later everything went back to normal and I watched Luke and Andre have a whole bro moment. It was actually quite touching.

“By the way I forgot to mention but you’ve looked so fucking hot tonight.” Jordan turned to look at me with a slight smirk on their face.

“Oh you haven’t seen anything yet.” She winked and I felt a blush start to color my cheeks. Okay game on baby.

We all end up dispersing after a while and I start walking around all the warm bodies, being extra careful to avoid my face touching anyone’s exposed skin. That was extra hard when you’re in a club so I decided to just take a step out onto the balcony. Spying through the doors, I took in breaths of sobering air and watched as Jordan easily flirted with a group of girls.

Fuck Vought and fuck my dad for this stupid power. I turned towards the ivy growing over the balcony railing and without a second thought I ripped off my gloves and pressed my palms to the stems. 

Life thrummed through my veins, I sucked it in deeper and deeper until I finally reached the roots of the ivy. I felt them start to rot away and die as my power crept into every crevice and cell. Stealing away vitality. Suddenly I was wrenched away from my ivy killing by high pitched screaming. I leave for a single second…

Quickly pulling on my gloves I looked into the chaos that was created over a woman’s body whose throat was punctured by a tiny metal hummingbird. Andre you fucking idiot.

Calculating how to get out of the club without actually having to go through the chaos I saw a few window sills that would easily get me close enough to the fire escape on the next building. 

Using my supe strength I jumped between each sill until I was near the fire escape. Taking a few deep breaths in and out I jumped and let gravity take over. It was a few seconds of bliss before my entire body slammed against the hard metal railing with a resounding bang. Goddamit sometimes I wish that I got pain tolerance when I was injected with V.

The next few steps down were easy and I was able to get to street level and disappear into the night without getting noticed. My phone dinged as I started putting on my headphones and I looked down to find that I had been added to a group chat:

(possibly Cate Dunlap): vic you good?

you sort of disappeared

we’re on our way back to GodU.

Me: yup all good

god Andre u need to be more careful.

A.A.: u don’t think I know that

u need us to pick u up?

Me: that would be appreciated

*you have now enabled geotracker with the group*

(possibly Jordan Li): see you in a bit!

Waking up after a night out was a bitch. Carefully maneuvering out of bed without activating my headache too much was even more of a challenge.

“You good there?” I heard a shout loud enough to rattle my very soul reverberating through the room.

“Fuck Gemma a little quieter please.” Her laugh twinkled in the air but even it's usually nice sound zapped my brain.

“I thought supes didn’t get hangovers.”

“Yeah they don’t- it was all the people.” And the experimental Vought pill I felt like saying.

“Oh shit yeah sorry.”

“Right, I'm going to have a shower.” Gingerly grabbing my shower essentials I picked my way through the already busy hall. Communal showers sucked.

Thankfully, 3 coffees later I finally started to feel a little more like myself. Andre had made me promise last night that I would have to help him with some power drink promotion. So off to commons I went, the sun seemed to burn my eyelids so a pair of slim blue lenses adorned my face. The shade perfectly matched my gloves.

What I didn’t expect to find outside the school of crimefighting was Luke. Completely flamed out and Andre stepped closer and closer to him. My eyes widened and I started running - the blue gloves were torn off and I nearly collided with Marie when Luke (thank the universe) stopped flaming out.

“What… Marie, what is going on?”

“I- I found him murdering Brink.” If my eyes widened any further I was pretty sure my eyeballs would quite literally jump out of my head.

“WHAT?” I turned towards Luke again to find that he had started walking away from Andre, muttering apologies under his breath. I could identify that crazed look in his eyes. He knew he was cornered and he didn’t want to run anymore.

Luke started flaming out and suddenly flew up into the sky… only to make himself completely explode. Blood, guts, muscle, bones and brains started raining down.

The ‘materials’ that managed to touch my uncovered face and hands thrummed with power. That was strange. It was as if they were still alive somehow. The cells oozed energy.

My power started to immediately absorb whatever life-force the cells had remaining and then I felt a foreign kind of ache. It felt like a cold burn spreading all over my hands and my face, bringing my palm up to my face. I was surprised to see a tiny flame start to sputter on.

What the actual fuck?

did you know that human cells can stay alive for hours and sometimes even days after you die? so yes the ending makes sense - I did research. also Vic has never "absorbed" another supe before - her mom was human.... so we shall see how that affects her hehe.

if you want to be added to the taglist lmk!!

[sailboatdreamer]

Back to the Night We Met

Hello! I'm Arcadia (she/her) and this is my first fic <3 i loved the holdovers so much it actually drove me to writing especially because of the lack of Angus fics rn :) Ill definitely continue it if people are interested, i have a pretty good idea of where to take it, this is just setup.

-You are a female student from a sister school who has to board over at Barton for the holidays, Mary comes to pick you up, and you have a first impression of all the boys- 859 words - slight blood mention.-

Angus reminded me of many men i had known, in various ways, throughout my life. Cold at first, brash, defensive- but equally in need of a love that was not easily accessible.

The first time i had ever met Angus, it was Christmas of 1970. The corresponding sister-school to Barton, Ada’s School for Girls, had just let out all the girls for winter break, except of course myself, who was doomed to two weeks of almost complete solitude. My only recompense being the books in the library, and my carefully hidden ration of cigarettes given to me by a friend as a Christmas gift.

I’d assumed that my stay at Ada would be chaperoned by one of the sisters from the convent, as they lived on campus and were usually the go-to call for holdover students, however when it came time to say goodbye, an unfamiliar face was awaiting me outside the aching, old oak doors.

“Hello young lady, I believe you’re staying with us this time.” Boston accent.

A beautiful woman, with a soft spoken voice, stood up against a powder-blue Impala, cigarette between her fingers. I came to learn that this lady was Mary Lamb. She was a cook from Barton, who’d elected to stay over the holidays due to the untimely and tragic death of her young boy, Curtis, a student. In her words, she felt going home would’ve abandoned his memory during this time that meant so much to both of them. As she drove me to Barton she explained i’d be staying with the other male holdovers due to ‘administrative difficulties’ whatever that meant

Quickly sensing my discomfort with this idea she said “Listen, you let me know if those little shitheads give you a hard time okay? My quarters are just past the dorms, near the garden.” i nodded appreciatively, smiling at her choice of language. It was surprising to hear it from such a demure lady, but Mary’s streak of subtle rebellion ultimately made her one of my favourite people i ever got to know through my school years.

When we arrived to Barton, Mary directed me towards the infirmary, as it was the last room in the entire building that had any heating, as i approached the door there was a clear noise of a scuffle going on inside. I gently pressed the door open, beat-up suitcase in my hand, glasses pushed to my nose. Two of the older boys were hitting each-other wildly, although it really seemed more girlish than i assumed boys fought. The minute they saw me, they got up and hastily tried to straighten out their shirts.

“Who are you!? The fuck-a girl?” A blonde boy, blue eyes, very irritating.

A rally of small, meek, lower-year boys stood around the room, just watching. The other boy who i’d seen flinging punches on the blonde was seething, he had a little blood running down his cheek, and he didn’t really acknowledge me, he seemed too focused on whatever his next chance was to knock the blonde’s lights out.

“Hello…..” i wave shyly, putting my suitcase by a free bed.

”hi, hello,- um-hi” the room grumbles back at me.

The air in the room is thick, and tense. Worried, nervous glances are passed between myself and the rest of the room for what feels like endless minutes before someone breaks the silence. “Do…. do you need help with your bags.” a nervous mutter from the boy who’d previously not acknowledged my arrival. And i actually did. Some of my books i insisted on bringing, assuming i’d have a boring two weeks had been a weight on my luggage. “Yeah… yeah i’d appreciate that. Thank you.” He follows me out, leaving the other boys to debrief among themselves. As we wander down the long, aging halls, and the noise of the infirmary grows quieter, i try to break the tension. “so….I’m (y/n).. i go to Ada,and uh- our nuns, shacked up for the winter apparently so that’s why i’m here. I met Mary, she’s… she’s really sweet” As i speak he nods gently, listening before speaking. “I’m Angus. And that (he points back at the infirmary) was Teddy Koutnze. Resident dickhead. The other kids i don’t know so well, they’re first years but-… they’re not too bad.” It was my turn to listen this time, as we walk i study the features on his face. Strong, angular features and deep, brown eyes, nearly carvaggian. He helps me with my other bags, opting to take the heavier one for me kindly, but as he’s picking it up, i again notice the blood on the side of his face. Without a second thought, i reach out to touch it, as i would’ve for any of the girls back at Ada. “You’re bleeding….”

His hand immediately rushes to his cheek, and i notice as his cheeks flush red, i recognise my mistake and apologize hurriedly “Oh-sorry, i-uh…” i try to brush off the blood on my skirt, and i we struggle to meet eyes “its… its okay” He grumbles, not meeting my eyes, we both walk back awkwardly, i know my face is flushed and i internally curse myself for doing something so careless. We share in the silence and a little smeared blood on our fingertips.

[vasyandii]

PROBLEM CHILD

KruegerNak FIC

TYPE: SET IN KRUEGER'S PERSPECTIVE, just insight into how their initial relationship was starting out.

SYNOPSIS:Before they were dating they were friends, before they were friends they were petty assholes.

WARNINGS: Crude language, Depictions of violence, Nak and Krueger are just Assholes

CHARACTERS: Sebastian Krueger, Phayvanh "Nak" Sotsvahn, Nikolai

WORD COUNT: 1000+

CREATOR NOTES: This is something I wrote while writing Edelweiss (Changing name to be a continuation of Plumeria), it still has some stuff I need to fix but as soon as that's done with, I'll post it :3 as always, the art is done by me!

---

"I'll kill you! I'll fucking kill you!" She shrieks, other unit members prying her off and away from him as she's thrashing about. "Let me go!"

Krueger stood over Nak, his chest heaving with laborious breaths. Blood trickled down from a split in his lip, mixing with the dirt and grime on his face. He was a picture of apathetic victory; battered but unbowed, a smirk playing on his grimy face as he regarded the new specialist trying to claw her way past the unit members holding her back.

His fingers prodded gingerly at the split skin of his knuckles - By now he forgot what they were beating each other for. She had spirit, but she often bites off more than she could chew.

Ignoring the burning feel on his face and possible bruised ribs – because damn that bitch packed surprisingly powerful kicks – Krueger lit up a cigarette and took deep drags, he knew his ass was in trouble as well.

---

In the office, Nikolai paced back and forth like a caged animal. His usually cool demeanor seemed to have frayed at the edges.

"Fighting in broad daylight, Again." his tone stern from behind his oak table scattered with undisclosed documents. "You're supposed to be professionals."

Krueger sat nonchalantly on one of those uncomfortable metal chairs they had around here, watching Nikolai's rant impassively through narrowed brown eyes. The cigarette - A new one, perched between his lips was all but forgotten now as ashes threatened to spill onto the floor.

"Of all people Krueger!" Nikolai finally spat out his name like it left a bitter taste in his mouth. "How many times do I have to remind you."

Nak sat neatly, hands in her lap. The woman looked rather pleased with herself despite her disheveled appearance as she listens to Nikolai berate him.

That was until Nikolai shifted is attention to her.

"And you!" Nikolai's gaze snapped towards Nak, Krueger swore he saw her flinch. "You think that childish outburst makes you look tough?".

Nikolai ran a hand through his greying hair, frustration clear on his face. Nak stayed silent, whether it was to save her ass or because she didn't have the right words to say.

Krueger watched from the corner of his eye as her smirk morphed into an irritatingly defiant sneer. He could almost read the silent challenge in her gaze - one that screamed she'd do it all over again if given the chance.

"I was teaching him a lesson," She said to Nikolai. "Your worker should learn to watch his mouth."

Krueger chuckled at her bold retort. He turned to meet her gaze with an insincere smile plastered on his bruised face, "Oh really?" His tone dripped with sarcasm as he leaned back comfortably in his chair, drumming his fingers against the wood.

"I guess next time I should watch out for midgets in whatever jungle you crawled from." He fired back mockingly, shooting Nikolai a glance before smirking at Nak.

If they were going to throw insults now, he wasn't one to back down. "Oh look who's finally learned some big words," he quipped back swiftly.

"You-" Nak stood from her seat, hand pulling him by the collar. "I'll straighten your damn jaw, ຝະລັ່ງຂີ້ນົກ ."

"Enough!" Nikolai stopped them, silencing the room instantly. His vicious stare switched between Krueger and Nak.

She sat back down, cursing under her breath; something in a language he didn't understand. Asian probably.

"I don't give a damn about your petty squabbles," he growled, his icy gaze finally landing on Krueger again with full force of its fury. "Settle it or I will settle it for you."

The threat hung heavily in the room for what seemed an eternity before Nikolai turned away dismissively towards his desk - usually signifying that he was done with them.

Krueger rose nonchalantly from his chair and headed towards the door without so much as another word - no point further provoking the boss today after all. Nak was almost a foot out the door before Nikolai spoke again.

"Phayvanh, you stay."

What a strange name.

--

"I'm not going," She dismisses. "Nothing wrong with me. you're putting me through something that isn't worth shit."

Krueger listened in stealthily, his curiosity piqued. The stinging pain on his battered face subsided as his interest turned to the squabble he could overhear from Nikolai's office.

"It's not up for debate, Phayvanh," Nikolai snapped back curtly. "Your outburst clearly shows that you need those sessions."

"I can work!" she countered defiantly. "You are fucking making me dead weight!"

"Watch your language," Nikolai's voice turned stern, "You are an investment Phayvanh, and Chimera does not throw away investments lightly. You will go to those sessions."

Krueger chuckled softly against the wall. Oh, this would be fun to watch play out. He could see himself using her rebellious streak for his own amusement in the future.

"Investment? He's not an investment," She didn't need to offer a name for Krueger to know she was talking about him. "I don't need those sessions if you just get rid if him."

Krueger's smirk dropped, replaced by a scowl. The nerve of that little shit. His fists clenched involuntarily before he quickly forced himself to relax.

"He's one of our best."

Krueger felt an odd sense of satisfaction hearing those words from Nikolai.

"Whatever," Nak stood up to leave. "I'll go. Let's see how long it'll take for you to stop wasting your money."

---

It's midnight. Quiet other than her footsteps, something he's gotten used to since she got the job a month ago. Sometimes he could hear rummaging in community kitchen. He never bothered to look until now because, who gives a shit?

She doesn't sleep, she doesn't eat. What the hell is she doing?

Krueger sat silently in the dark, he rolled his eyes at himself for even caring enough to consider it. Nak had been quite the nuisance since she got here but her antics were starting to catch his interest.

Tossing his blanket to the side, he sighed and stood up from his bed, deciding impulsively to investigate whatever it was that she was doing this late at night.

He moved silently through the dimly lit corridors, making his way towards the source of the sound. He was aware that he was stalking her like prey in its natural habitat, but a part of him justified it as needing to know what she could be up to.

His footsteps were heavy against the cold stone floor, he saw light flickering under a door down the hallway - the kitchen.

He saw Nak turn sharply towards the direction of the sound he had made, her dark eyes wide in surprise.

Krueger froze momentarily, cursing himself internally for being so careless. He was usually silent in his movements - the fact that he hadn't been careful enough this time irked him immensely.

"Relax," His voice was low, laced heavily with mockery. "It's just me."

For a moment, they locked eyes and then she went back to whatever it was she'd been doing before he came.

Nak tried her best to ignore Krueger and his staring from the table. Her table, he knew that - it was fun to fuck with her.

He got his answer for what she's been doing, though; just making coffee.

Leaning back in her chair, he watched Phayvanh move around as she made the brew.

"You don't sleep much?" He finally broke the silence, curiosity getting better of him.

She replied curtly. "Don't speak to me."

He chuckled at her vain attempt to control their interaction, "So bossy… Didn't anyone ever tell you it's not polite to give orders?" His voice was rich with sarcasm as he rested his boots on the table, blatantly ignoring any boundaries she may have established over 'her' table.

"Why are you here," Nak carefully stirs her coffee with a spoon. The handle looked like it would snap by how tight she was gripping it.

"Curiosity," Krueger replied casually, watching the way she handled her cup. The concentration on her face was a stark contrast to the fiery defiance he'd seen earlier. "It's late and you're always up… thought I might join."

He hesitated momentarily before adding in a softer tone, "And maybe to piss you off, just a tad bit." A smirk played at the corner of his lips as he looked over at her.

"Go fuck yourself," She was going nowhere near that table when he just planted his ass in her seat. "ຝະລັ່ງ."

Krueger's smirk widened at her sharp reply. He was familiar with many languages, though he had to admit the dialect she spoke got lost on him.

"I'm afraid I didn't quite catch that," He drawled out lazily as his eyes glinted in amusement. "Want to run that by me again?"

Nak leaned down to his eye level like she was about to say something. Instead she opted to pouring her coffee on his lap.

---

For a split second, he froze in surprise before jumping up swiftly, uttering a guttural curse.

"You little bitch!" Krueger reached for her arm, roughly pulling her towards him to look into her defiant eyes.

"What the fuck was that for?" He spat out through gritted teeth, trying to ignore the burning sensation on his legs.

"I told you to go fuck yourself didn't I?" She mocked, waving her mug in hand. "You should listen to-"

"Do you two you what time it is?"

Nikolai. Great.

---

Krueger's attention snapped immediately to Nikolai who now stood at the entrance of the kitchen, his eyes flickering between Krueger and Phayvanh as he tried to assess the situation.

"She fucking poured coffee on me!" His grip tightened around her arm.

"He pissed himself." She just stated simply, hiding the mug behind her back. "Must've startled him or something."

Krueger blinked, appalled by her audacity.

"You fucking liar-" He began, but was quickly cut off by Nikolai.

"Enough," The older man barked out sharply, turning his icy glare towards Krueger first before it settled on Phayvanh.

"Why are both of you up this late? And why the hell is there coffee all over my floor?" His intense gaze bore into Phayvanh in particular, as if already suspecting her role in the entire mess.

"Piss." She corrected.

"Fuck you," Krueger growled at her under his breath. His calloused hand still clamped tight around her arm.

"Enough!" Nikolai repeated, exasperated. He sighed heavily and covered his face with a tired hand, "Clean this up and I don't want to see either one of you till sunrise."

With that he turned on his heel and left them alone once again in the dimly lit kitchen.

---

Nikolai out of sight, Nak took out the empty coffee mug she hid behind her back.

The sudden bonk on his head caught him off guard. He quickly let go of her arm, and rubbed the back of his head where she'd hit him, meeting her gaze with an irritated scowl. Wasn't enough to seriously hurt him like her punches, but still hurt nonetheless.

"You got some serious fucking issues, you know that?" He snarled at her.

Nak gave him a sidelong glance.

"I could've rendered you a vegetable with that. Consider it my apology," She snagged a rag from the counter. "Only because I feel bad for Nikolai."

Krueger watched her with a guarded expression as he grabbed another rag for himself.

"Wooow, " He couldn't help but quip back sarcastically. Despite everything, he had to admit there was something strangely interesting about Phayvanh's unpredictable disposition. "Such generosity from you is truly overwhelming."

"Hm, You're funny." She notes off handedly, cleaning the floor.

His sarcastic snort echoed in the small shared kitchen, "Yeah, and you're a fucking delight."

TRANSLATIONS

ຝະລັ່ງຂີ້ນົກ (Farang Khi Nok) - Literally translates to "Bird shit foreigner", basically "White Trash"

ຝະລັ່ງ (Farang) - Foreigner, specifically one of European descent. In this context it's used as a derogatory term.

[sailoryooons]

The Wood | JHS | (m)

☾ Pairing: witch!Hoseok x female reader

☾ Summary: From the moment you step foot in Kill Devil, you know something about the town is off. Determined to find out exactly how your sister went missing in such a small town, you receive unlikely help from the man staying in the motel room next to yours. But there is so much more than what meets the eye with Hoseok and the citizens of Kill Devil.

☾ Word Count: 16,786

☾ Genre: supernatural, psychological thriller, southern-gothic

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Creepy town vibes somewhere in the south, unreliable narrator because she’s a dumb bitch, missing family member, descriptions of nightmares and night terrors, allusions to toxic citizens and intolerance in the southern US, cryptic exchanges, being attacked and choked by a strange entity, sleep paralysis, depictions of anxiety and panic and deep fear, manipulation, cat Yoongi.... sort of, explicit language, explicit sexual content including unprotected vaginal sex, vaginal fingering, slight hand job, a lot of spit and cum, fucking in a nasty ass motel room, mean Hoseok at the end, I don't know why I reference frogs so much please forgive me, ambiguous ending/unexplained ending, implied death of a side character off-screen

☾ Published: May 29, 2022

☾ A/N: Not only is this absolutely a million weeks late, it also is the longest it has ever - and I mean ever - taken me to write a fic. This was so hard for me to write, and I have deleted anad re-written thousands of words for this. The end result is something that I absolutely did not plan. This fic is ENTIRELY different from the original outline and idea, so at times it might seem where this piece doesn’t know where it’s going because it wasn’t until I got to the end of the smut scene last night that I realized what the hell this story needed. 

I want to thank @here2bbtstrash because I could not have written this fic without them, but also for the amazing and thorough beta they gave this. This was one of my choppier/messier pieces and they helped fix this so much and I have giant feelings for M that are very normal. Also a special thank you to @gimmethatagustd for keeping me somewhat sane while really struggling with this piece.

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Masterlist | Ask | To Love A Monster Collab | Song Inspiration

Only God can save us! 

It’s probably the tenth sign of the like that you’ve seen. Your palms feel sweaty on the wheel, the unsettling feeling in your stomach as you drive through God’s Country increasing. For some reason, as you catch glimpses of old abandoned churches at the end of red dirt roads and leaning fruit stands with no seller in sight, you think that perhaps God has forsaken this place. 

The drive has been unremarkable, but the closer you get to Kill Devil you think perhaps the town is aptly named. You can’t help but get the sense - especially when you stop at a gas station with no one inside and a single working pump - that there is a reason the town sports such a unique title. 

It’s hard to imagine why your sister would ever move here, even temporarily. Outside, the locusts whine, a high-pitched buzzsaw hidden in the boughs draped with Spanish moss. The paint on the road has long since faded, single lanes stretching North to South in an endless strip. 

Sticky heat prickles your skin. Though there’s no one else around save for you and the locusts, you can’t help but look around nervously, eyes scouring the oak trees. The door to the gas station is locked, and the other side of your single-station pump has a red bag on the handle. 

The sk sk sk of the pump is a slow heartbeat. Pulling out your phone while you wait, your stomach flips when you see that you have very little service. You’re about thirty minutes away from Kill Devil and an hour away from any major cities. Peppered along the map are small towns like Kill Devil, home to pecan farms, corn fields, and cotton gins. 

You feel a long way from home.

A tingle slides down the back of your neck. You look up from your phone, gaze sweeping back and forth through the trees and over the cracked pavement of the station. There’s nothing else there, but you have the sense that the trees have eyes. 

The pump clicks loudly and your heart lurches, hand flying to your chest as you shriek and turn. For a few moments, your heart beats so loudly in your ears you can’t hear the chirping of the locusts or your ragged breathing as you close your eyes, trying to level out your moment of panic. 

“Fuck,” you mutter, pulling the handle and jiggling it lightly to ensure any dripping gas is shaken off. 

Naturally, you’re a pretty calm person. The jumpiness belongs to your mother, who screams every time someone turns a corner in the house unexpectedly. It’s something about the feeling that clings to you like a second skin as you get in the car that has you shaken. 

Or it’s the fact that your sister has been missing for two months. 

On instinct, your hand goes to the necklace around your throat. It’s a heart-shaped locket, which would seem cheesy to anyone else. But for you, it’s one of the few coveted items you have from her.

It’s also something that you swear burned you in the middle of the night two months ago. You’re not sure if you believe in spiritual intuition or connection between family members, but what you do know is that you haven’t heard from her, and the local police have been no help. 

Trust your gut. That’s what she’s always said. And you do trust your gut on this, this knowing that something is wrong. 

On the road again, your tension continues to increase. The land has turned to steep up and down hills, pines lined on either side of the road, pocked with deep canyons.

Orange tire tracks appear and disappear on the highway, turning off onto clay roads with washed-out shoulders and deep ruts from all of the rain over the summer. Your sister had mentioned the house she was renting was nearly impossible to get to when the rain was bad.

A green sign that says Kill Devil City Limits passes by. No welcome sign, no little plaque announcing the population. Your music skips in and out, the connection to your phone weak. You switch to FM, flinching at the roaring static that comes through, finger jamming on the arrows to skip through to something passable.

Country. Country. Church. Country. Rock. Pop. 

You leave it on the pop station, turning your eyes back to the road. A logging truck comes roaring up the hill, blasting by your sedan at top speed, making your car shake. Your heart squeezes in fear. You’ve passed over two dozen of them and they never drive any slower or any safer each time. 

You’re going to kill Hanna if you find her lounging in her house, making you come all this way.

She had taken up a story there, investigating the town's eerie occult background for the media company that she worked for. Her editor had stopped receiving updates from her around the same time you’d stopped hearing from her. 

When you called the landlord she was renting from, he was no help. Some idiot who owned seventeen houses dotted around the country, renting them out for twice the price they were worth. 

The local police station had been worse. They’d done a wellness check several times after you called but insisted she wasn’t home. No signs of a break-in, no signs of a struggle. No reason to be missing. They refused to make it an official report, as there was no reason for her to be missing. 

Have you considered she just doesn’t want to talk to you? they’d laughed on the phone. 

It was a joke. Somehow you could not believe they refused to file a report, and you threatened to take it to the state police and anyone who would listen to you. The woman you had spoken to had chuckled then, her mirth sending a chill up your spine. 

Have fun on hold, sweetheart.

You could not fathom how not a single person cared. Not the news, not any authority that you could get in contact with, and certainly not the lawyer you reached out to. 

Let law enforcement handle it. Your pleas fell on deaf ears and it was like it didn’t even matter that an entire person was missing. You’d heard about the blunders of the law enforcement system before, but this was a new level of ignorance and oddity.

It was… unexplainable. 

Which was why now, you were driving into the backwater town of Kill Devil in the southern part of the United States. 

Dropping your speed down, you take the chance to look around. There are a few houses on the outskirts of the town, their yards sprawling with kudzu and their homes leaning heavily with brown vines climbing up the eaves. There are several old, broken-down trucks in the middle of the kudzu fields, swallowed by the invasive vine-like devil’s snare. 

You’d heard of one-stop-light-towns but you had never seen one without. Kill Devil is made up of all stop signs. Everything is built around the courthouse, a red brick building dropped in the middle like a fungus growing its roots outward.

The sheriff’s office is just across the street with Crown Victoria model patrol cars. A taxidermist is right next door, the gold cursive font on the front of the glass door telling you it’s been there since the 70s. 

Kill Devil has everything you expect. Antique shops with dusty windows and dry-rotted awnings, a convenience store that looks straight out of retro America, closed-down shops with empty shelves and shattered glass, and a single diner with station wagons and mud-slicked trucks in the parking lot. 

A single motel stands at the edge of the town center. When you pull into the parking lot, you look up at the sign and frown. Like something out of a horror movie, the Lodging Motel is missing several letters in long-burnt-out neon, three letters blinking in the fading afternoon sun: Lodging Motel. 

Die.

With one look at the crusted, three-paneled windows and mold-covered brick face, you think that you just might die. 

Pink sun sinks behind the rolling hills of pine. You get out of the car, stretching and popping your joints as you look at your lodging with a sour taste in your mouth. You pass the ‘vacant’ sign as you walk to the small square building at the end with ‘front office’ on the window. 

“Yeah no shit,” you mutter. You cannot imagine who would stay here out of anything but necessity. 

In fact, it seems like there is no one staying at the hotel. This fact makes you jumpy as you approach the office, which is just a clerk's window and a woman with sunken eyes and a scowl on her face watching you. You swallow thickly as you give her a weak smile and nervous wave, trying to get past the sudden anxiety trembling in your hands. 

“Hi,” you say. “I have a reservation for-”

A small window that’s about six inches tall and a foot wide pops open. She hacks, fluid-sounding and phlegmy before saying, “I can’t hear you with the damn window closed. What do you want?” 

You clench your jaw. Slowly, you begin again. “I have a reservation.”

“ID and credit card.” 

You slide the materials through the window. She holds them up close to her face, scrutinizing them. Crickets join the singing of the locusts. Mosquitos fly around your head and you cringe, swatting at them as you wait while she rolls her chair over to a cabinet.

Wordlessly, she puts your credit card on a manual credit card imprinter. You raise your brows, unsure of the last time you’ve seen someone do paper credit card printing instead of sliding it through a machine. 

While you wait, you look past her into the office. It’s dingy inside but you can see a box TV and a window unit air conditioner rattling in the window. There are metal cabinets that form their own little skyscrapers around her office. An episode of I Love Lucy plays on the fuzzy TV screen. 

“Here’s your room key.” She tosses it through the window. It’s room three, the key hanging on a diamond-shaped, acrylic keychain with Lodging Motel written in Sharpie. “We don’t got room service or maid service. If you need more towels, the launder-mat is down the street. Don’t run the hot water more than twenty minutes or so. If the AC ain’t on, hit ‘er a few times.” 

“Great,” you deadpan. “Anything else?”

She scowls. “Mind the raccoons. They got rabies.” 

“Thanks.”

Inside the room is just as expected: peeling wallpaper, red shag carpet with questionable stains and the unmistakable stench of cigarettes, sconce lighting with lampshades that look decades old, a twin with a horrible patterned blanket, frayed at the edges and moth-eaten, and a single, square dresser with a box TV on top and a white, corded phone. 

The bathroom is no better. The tub is stained with limescale, cracked tiles, and a lamp that buzzes when you flip it on. You scream when you see the massive roach hanging out in the tub, gagging and running out to look for anything to kill it with. 

You settle on a sneaker, and it’s a battle involving your high-pitched scream as you try and kill it. You do win, but you’re covered in sweat and shaking after your victory.

A sharp knock on the door startles you further. You drift to the front door, looking out the peephole to find that it is cracked and you cannot see the person standing just on the other side. You slide the chain lock in and open the door tentatively, peering out into the now early night. 

“Everything okay?” a male voice asks. “I heard screaming.” 

The voice belongs to someone who absolutely does not belong in Kill Devil. He’s dressed in jeans with large rips at the knee and a plain white shirt that hangs off his frame stylishly. He has a few necklaces on, a single hoop hanging from his right ear that catches the flickering parking lot light. 

And he’s beautiful. The kind of beautiful that stuns you. He has a slender face with smooth, flowing skin. His eyes are kind, glittering brown with flecks of lighter shades throughout. The slope of his cheekbones and jawline makes you think perhaps he’s into modeling, which would explain the taste in clothes. 

But it does not explain what someone who looks like that is doing in this shithole town. 

“I had to kill a roach,” you admit, a little hesitant. Your skin tingles under his gaze, your instincts picking up something that you can’t put your thumb on. “I don’t like them very much and it was fast.”

“Disgusting. I had to buy killer for them - it came in a two-pack if you want?” You don’t answer, watching him warily. He picks up on your anticipation and smiles, disarming. “Sorry - my name is Hoseok. You can call me Hobi, if you’d like. I’m staying next door which is just as gross as your room is I’m sure. I heard you yell and I got worried.”

“That’s kind of you. This doesn’t seem like a place where people would care if they heard  screaming.”

“Yeah, well, I’m not from here.” He looks around the parking lot and his eyes focus on a raccoon meandering near the trash. You grimace, thinking about rabies. “Thank fuck, this place feels right out of fucking Deliverance.”

You can’t help but laugh, feeling better at his distaste. “One sec, let me slide the lock off.” You close the door and slide the chain before opening it a little wider this time. “Yeah, this place gives me the creeps. Hopefully, I don’t have to be here long.”

“A night is long enough. You want that spray?”

“Yeah, that would be great.” 

Hoseok grins and holds up a finger, asking you to wait as he jogs to his room. He’s only gone for a moment, leaving you in the poorly lit lot with the tk tk tk of the raccoon pilfering through trash and the crickets creek creek creeking. 

Hoseok’s door opens and he’s back, handing you a large, red can of lemon-scented Raid. “Just make sure you drown them. They did outlive the dinosaurs. Makes you wonder what the hell is in that stuff.”

“Thanks.”

“No problem…” He drifts off, unsure what your name is. You laugh, a little flustered by the way his entire face lights up when he smiles, and give him your name. “I like it. Well, I don’t know how long you’re here, but I’m your neighbor for a few days. Try not to catch any infections while you’re in there and holler if you need me.”

“Thanks,” you grin. You hold up the can and add, “Especially for this.”

With a wave goodnight, Hoseok returns to his room. The buzz of something instinctual fades with him, replaced once more with the unsettling frequency the town seems to vibrate at. 

Closing the door firmly behind you and flicking the lock, you shiver. The eerie feeling that had been following you lingers.

After changing the sheets, inspecting the rest of the room and setting the spray can firmly on the pillow next to you, you lay on your back in bed, mattress lumpy and air conditioner rattling. 

-

Moonlight streams through the curtain, catching dust motes floating in the air and turning them into diamonds. You stand in the middle of the room. Cold but humid air clings to your skin, the air conditioner rattling and dripping as it cools the room but does nothing to suck out the moisture. You don’t know why you’re standing in the middle of the room and you don’t remember waking up and getting out of bed, but you face the window, the curtains open just enough to face the empty parking lot. 

Silence blankets the world. The hum of the air conditioner fades and you stare out into the silver-painted parking lot. Above the lot, a street light flickers on and off weakly. It goes out for a minute and flashes back on.

Someone leans against the pole. You can’t make out any features, just that there is a person there, perhaps facing you. The hair on your skin stands on end but you can’t move. Your instincts begin to prickle and there is a sharp feeling in your chest.

Belatedly, beyond your hypnotized stare, you realize the feeling is fear.

Your ears start to ring. You stare out at the shadow and the shadow stares back. Something is telling you to run run run but you don’t know how. Can’t move your feet. Panic begins to rise, your heart beating so fast that you can hear it over the steady whine in your ears. 

Thump thump. Thump thump. Thumpthumpthumpthump. 

You can feel your pulse skyrocketing, your chest squeezing tight with terror as the beating gets louder and louder -

Awareness hits you like cold water. You lurch forward in bed, hands flying to your chest as you gasp for air. It takes a moment to get your bearings, the pounding in your heart so hard it feels like you might vomit. Battling the sheets, you rip them off of you, legs sticky with a sheen of sweat. 

The lamp is still on in your room, the curtains are closed just the way you left them, and the bug killer rolls on the bed as you get up. Several paces away from the window, you catch your breath, running a hand over your face. 

“Fuck,” you pant, realizing you were dreaming. 

When your breathing levels out, you glance at the closed curtains. Something niggles at your brain. Slowly, you walk toward the window, feeling the hairs on your arms tingle and stand on end.

Lifting your shaking hands, you grip the curtain tight. Taking a deep breath, you hold it in and pull open the curtain just a bit. 

Unlike your dream, there’s no moonlight outside. It’s so dark you almost can’t see anything in the parking lot. When the lot light flickers back on, your heart squeezes, expecting to see a shadow leaning against the pole. There’s nothing there, just empty lot and a dumpster. Not even the raccoon is around. 

Blowing out your held breath, you close the curtain again and shake out your hands, trying to get rid of the jitters. Rolling your neck and shoulders, you try to work out the tension as you sit on the end of the bed, staring at the faded wallpaper. 

The dream felt so real. You swear that if you turn your head, you’ll see silver moonlight through the curtains. That you’ll see that person - that shadow - standing outside of your window. 

Exhaustion weighs heavy on you. You crawl back into bed, mattress damp and smelling like mildew even with the sheets that you put on it. You’re under a lot of stress and you hate this motel room as much as you already hate this town that you’ve barely started to explore. It makes sense that you’re having weird dreams. 

Blanket pulled up to your chin, you eventually let your lids flutter shut until you’re taken by dreamless sleep. 

-

Morning sun chases away the dregs of your strange dream from the night before. With daylight streaming between the curtains, the room looks no better. It’s a futile hope, perhaps, to keep thinking that the room will suddenly not look nearly as questionable as when you checked in. 

At least there are no bugs. 

Outside, the balmy air is filled with the voices of the locusts. You lock the door behind you and glance toward where Hoseok vanished the night before. His windows are closed and there’s no sign of him anywhere in the parking lot, so you head to your car, stomach begging for food. 

Kill Devil is small in both size and population. The Diner is easy to find, tucked in the southwest corner of the town across from the courthouse. Folks wander about the parking lot, shaking one another’s hands and laughing as the weekend rush of people meanders up the steps for breakfast. 

Your arrival is noted immediately. Eyes turn your way as you walk through the lot, loose gravel crunching under your feet. The lot is more packed dirt than pavement, full of holes and mud softened by rain. 

Seeing a new face in a wretched little town like this probably isn’t common. Though you’re not familiar with growing up in such a small population, you remember what it was like knowing everyone at school. The same theory applies here when a portly man with raised brows stands, screen door in hand as he stares at you.

The man blocks the way to the inside of the diner. You pause and look up, noting the confusion on his face. After clearing your throat, he realizes that he’s completely frozen from opening the door and coughs, bowing his head and apologizing. 

“You uh - visiting?” he asks, holding the door open for you. When you nod, he seems surprised, though that had to be the only answer. “Well, that doesn’t happen often. Welcome to Kill Devil.”

There’s a small host stand with a pile of laminated menus on top. A girl who looks to be about your age stares back at you, wiping her hands on a red apron tied around her waist. She’s in jeans and a t-shirt that says The Diner across the chest, her hair pulled up and stabbed through with a pen. 

“Just you?” she asks, eyes fluttering to the man who shrugs behind you. You nod. “Right this way.” 

The wooden walls are painted white, some of the paint peeling. There are miscellaneous animal heads with plaques underneath stating the names of their killers with a stamp of Jason’s Taxidermy. You try not to make eye contact with their black, glass eyes as you sit in a chair that wobbles from side to side.

You thank the hostess as she wanders off to get you coffee. The family at the table next to you does their best to whisper about who the hell is that as you look over the menu, flipping it to the breakfast side. The laminate is sticky and peeling at the corners. 

It’s a pretty standard breakfast menu. You put it down on the table, nudging the container holding different colored sugar packets and sweeteners while you wait for your coffee. There’s a breakfast bar with people bent over steaming eggs and sitting atop cracked vinyl seats. 

The door opens behind you at a steady rate as people pay their bills and leave while new customers are sitting. A presence at your back sends a cool tingle up your spine, making you straighten and look over your shoulder.

Hoseok stands in a shaft of sunlight coming through the window, turning him gold. For a moment, the diner around you falls to a hush of murmured voices, muting the clinking of spoons against ceramic and scraping chairs.

He’s dressed well again, in a simple white button-up with the button undone to reveal a strip of golden chest. His hair is slightly damp and styled back, an outrageously good look on him. The same hoop earring dangles in his ear but today he has on a few necklaces and rings on his fingers. Somehow, he makes the delicate pieces carry an edge. 

“You survived the night, huh?” he says by way of greeting and then gestures to the chair across from you. “Would you mind company for breakfast?” 

You shake your head, forgetting words for a moment as he smiles, radiant as ever. Hoseok pulls out the chair and sits down, a twinkle in his eye that makes your heart flutter as he plucks a menu from the holder at the center of the table. You can smell his rain and lavender scent from across the table. 

“Thanks again,” you say, realizing you haven’t spoken yet. His brown eyes look at you over the top of the menu, and you can’t help but admire how beautiful they are. Warm, both dark and light, with flecks of chipped gold. “For the bug killer. I haven’t seen any more but I just know they’re there.”

“That’s the shitty thing about the South. All of God's least favorite creatures are here.” He glances at the table of scowling men next to you to emphasize. You hide your laughter with the plastic menu. “What brings you to this shit hole?”

“I’m… visiting my sister.”

“You sound unsure of that. Does she not know you’re coming?”

“She doesn’t.”

While they aren’t technically lies, you don’t know how much you can trust him. Instinct makes you hold the truth from him. After all, you don’t want him to know you’re in a town where no one knows you, and where no one knows you are. By yourself.

Hoseok looks at you again, his eyes narrowed. You feel tension creep into the air between you, your mouth drying out as he watches you silently. 

The arrival of the hostess who is also your server saves you from another question. You both place your order, and you note the way the girl cuts her eyes to Hoseok, wary. Her hands shake a little.

When she leaves the two of you, you ask, “How long have you been here?”

“A few weeks.”

“Enough to win over the locals, hmm?”

His grin is sly as he drums his fingers on the table. “I’m their favorite - you’re perceptive.” 

“My sister is an investigative journalist. She’s made me watch all kinds of shows and read books about psychology and body language with her. I picked up a few things.”

“An investigative journalist, huh?” Hoseok plucks a sugar packet and rips it open with his teeth. He shoots the ripped piece onto the table with a huff of air and dumps the contents on the table. Leaning on one elbow, he begins to trace patterns in the sugar. “So you’re not from here. No one here is smart enough for that.”

“No, she’s been living here since July.” 

“What’s she investigating?” You hesitate again. He doesn’t look up from the patterns he’s tracing on the table, finger steady as it cuts through the white sugar.

“I don’t really know.” He does look up when you say that, gaze razor-sharp. A chill slides up your spine. So you add, “Something to do with the occult.”

Hoseok stops moving his finger through the sugar. He doesn’t look at you, but he’s fixated on the mess he’s made on the table. You chew on your bottom lip, eyes dropping to his little sweetened artwork. You don’t understand the pattern that he’s traced, but it buzzes your brain when you look at it.

The silence stretches on. He remains unmoving and silent. Anxiety starts to creep in and you wonder if he thinks you’re crazy or is going to get up and leave-

With a huff of laughter, he leans back and smiles at you. 

“The occult huh? Interesting subject.”

“Know anything about it?”

He shrugs a shoulder. “I mean, what is really considered occult? Most of these Bible thumpers around here would consider being queer witchcraft.” 

“You have a point there. Don’t tell them I’m a witch.”

He grins. “You can join my coven, then.” 

“Do you think they know there’s more than two genders?”

Hoseok’s laugh is infectious. You laugh along with him, visibly ruffling the feathers of the table next to you. 

For a moment, the two of you share a secret smile at your little table, wedged between the people who go to church every Sunday and swear by Fox News at brunch. It feels good to know you’re not the only person completely out of place in Kill Devil. 

The arrival of your server with steaming plates breaks the moment, but you feel better about your morning nonetheless. Especially when the conversation switches from stilted exchanges about your sister and the occult to things about you and Hoseok. 

Over runny eggs on toast and crunchy bacon, you learn that Hoseok is a shop owner in a small town very far from Kill Devil. He brushes over the fact that he’s visiting family to tell you all about his small corner of the world and all of his favorite plants. 

“Fiona is a venus fly trap,” he giggles with a snap of bacon. “She’s my second favorite, but what I really love is my pitcher plants. They eat bugs, mostly, but they like to devour frogs too. The frogs love to hide in them, but sometimes the pitcher plants take kindly to them and don’t eat them. It never lasts.” 

“I would hate for them to eat the frogs.”

“Hmm, circle of life.”

“But the poor frogs!”

Hoseok isn’t swayed. “There has to be a balance to everything. The pitcher plants will kill the frogs eventually. Sometimes a predator likes to play with its prey. Their ecosystem doesn’t make sense. In order to pay back the food the pitcher plants bring them, the frog must die. It pays for power, in the end.”

“How do you mean?”

“Everything has a give and take.” He pauses to sip his coffee. He makes a face, opens a sugar packet, and empties it into the coffee. “In order to have life, we must have death. In order to have water, we must have fire, for earth, we must have air. There is a give and take in existence, and it has to stay that way.”

“If it doesn’t?”

“Chaos.”

“You know, a lot of theology believes that chaos created the world.”

“And perhaps it did. But in order to make the world, chaos needed…” Hoseok takes his butter knife in one hand and sticks out his pointer finger with the other. You watch as he places the knife horizontally across his finger, sliding it just so until he slowly lets it go, leaving it teetering back and forth, but never falling. “Balance. There has to be even weight on the scales to make it work.” 

“Interesting. So you think there is true balance in the world.”

“Not always, which is why we must make it.”

“Hmm. You have some interesting opinions.” 

“I am an interesting person.”

You like Hoseok. Conversation flows easily and it seems that he either doesn’t notice or does not care that he draws glances around the room, particularly when he gives a high-pitched laugh, leaning backward on the metal legs of his chair to clap his hands excitedly. You swear you see the table next to you flinch, though you can’t imagine why.

Hoseok insists on paying the bill, though you fight him all the way to the register. The elderly woman behind the till jams the pricing in from the ticket and slams the cash drawer shut when Hoseok hands over the bills. She makes sure not to tell you to have a good day, and you feel her sharp stare as you leave the interior of The Diner. 

In fact, the stares of the citizens are just as intense outside. Hoseok rattles on about a time he got really high and forgot to feed his cat. “Yoongi was so mad he wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

“What?” you ask, distracted by the way a group of men leaning against a red pickup glare. “Your cat talks?”

“Oh- he- well he meows, you know what I mean?”

“No, but I’m sure he was very vocal.” Hoseok smirks, toeing the gravel of the parking lot as you reach your car. You glance over at the pickup truck again, seeing the four sets of eyes fixated on the two of you. “Why does everyone around here stare?”

“They’ll ignore you soon enough if you ignore them.”

“They don’t seem to ignore you.”

He gives you a wry smile. “I guess you’re right. Going to visit your sister, then?”

Digging around in your bag, you search for keys. “Yeah, she lives out in some place called Grave Hollow. How creepy is that?” 

Silence is your only answer. You look up, pausing the search for your keys to find him staring at you with a blank expression. Your heart skips a beat - it’s the same wiped-clean face he had when you mentioned your sister investigating the occult. 

Licking your lips, you ignore the feeling of a weighted stone dropping into your stomach. Hoseok says nothing.

Then, he’s chipper again. “Well have fun,” he chirps, shrugging and giving a wave as he backs away to leave. “Hopefully she has some cool occult stuff to tell you about. You know where to find me!

It’s hard to keep track of the way Hoseok’s mood flips on a dime. You stare after him, but he’s all smiles and sunshine again before turning on a heel to walk out of the parking lot. His hands are tucked into his pockets and he tilts his face toward the azure sky, whistling a tune with a happy cadence. 

Something sticks to you as you watch him leave. You don’t know what it is, this feeling that you’re missing a critical detail. It’s like your instincts are scratching lightly at the door, but you have no key to flip the lock and no crowbar to force it open. 

Anxiety returns when you remember the weight of the eyes still focused on you. Hurriedly, you snatch your keys from your bag and get in your car, tossing your bag on the seat and starting the engine. As soon as it purrs to life, you feel instant relief. 

You hope that it lasts.

-

According to the research you’d done on Kill Devil, the town had been officially founded in the 1700s. Of course, being ‘officially’ founded didn’t mean much in the way of Western colonization. You had little doubt that the migration of people to the South chased out Native American tribes, as was the story everywhere. 

Kill Devil has been named such since its inception, which occurred a little after Georgia had been named an official state. The abundance of soil for cotton and peanut fields made it a wet dream for the expansion of cotton gins and eventually, peanuts - there was even a rumor that peanut butter had been invented in Kill Devil first, but you knew that to be untrue. 

A small town with a small impact. That was Kill Devil at the heart of its existence. It has always had a small population of sleepy folk. No stop lights, one church, a lot of paper companies coming in and cutting down trees, and some farming fields for various reasons.

There’s no reason that for a tiny little dot on the map, the town should be significant. 

And yet it had called your sister here. 

The car bounces, the suspension whining as you drive down the dirt road. A clay wall comes up on either side of you, roots of trees sticking out periodically. There’s no shoulder to the road, the rain has deepened the ruts on either side. You’re careful to keep in the middle, slowing down as the road tightens on corners. 

Pine stretches as far as the eye can see. You pass the occasional neon tape, marking sections of trees for the paper company to let grow a little longer before hacking them down. Several metal gates with keep out and declaring different hunting clubs flash by. There’s even a sign that says Rucker’s Meat Processing. 

GPS is unreliable out in the sticks where the cell towers don’t quite reach. You keep an eye on the flattened paper map in the passenger seat, marked with your red marker to make sure you take the right road.

A sigh of relief escapes you when you see a little metal post with a turn-off sign: Kill Ditch South. The house that your sister is renting lives off of that, only a mile down the road or so. Long drives appear between the trees, houses parked at the end of them. You feel a little less alone in the woods now knowing that there are people around. 

Though you’re not sure how helpful they would be if something was wrong. 

Worry creeps into your stomach as you slow the car. There’s a little mailbox with the address your sister gave you. It’s at the end of a short drive that’s been layered with gravel to make the incline easier on tires. It crunches beneath the tires as you drive toward the modest, white house. Your sister’s Four Runner is parked outside, making your heart thunder. 

Turning the car off, you slide out into the humid air, hands trembling. Locusts scream, hidden in the trees. The sun is at its zenith, beating down on you as you slowly walk toward the house. It’s a single-story with two sets of windows facing the front. A wrap-around porch that leans to the side stands empty, save for a single bench. 

As you pass your sister's car, you notice that the grass underneath is dead and dry. As if the car hasn’t moved for a while, denying the grass any sun to live. It makes you feel nauseous, feet like anvils as you take your first step up the stairs. 

The creak of the wood makes you flinch. 

“Hanna?” You call, voice shakier than you want it to be. “Hanna, it’s me! Don’t freak out!”

No one answers. Your stomach bubbles like acid, the slow drip of sweat down your neck making a chill rattle up your spine. You reach the door and swallow thickly, lifting your hands and knocking loudly. 

“Hanna?” 

Nothing but the sound of the locusts answers you. 

Your palms feel sweaty as you knock again. This time, your voice cracks when you call, “Hanna? Please answer the door.”

Wind sweeps across the trees. One thing about the wind in a land of pines and hills is that it’s loud, making a whooshing sound as it’s picked up by the boughs of the trees, rattling and letting their needles shake to the floor. 

It’s cool at your back and you feel your lip wobble when you lower your hand to the doorknob. When you twist, the door opens immediately, swinging of its own volition when you let go. 

Inside the house is the kind of silence that terrifies you in horror movies. The air is heavy. Your ears ring, searching for any rasp of sound to tell you that your sister is home. Licking your lips, you step over the threshold, the wooden floor cracking beneath the weight of your feet. 

To the immediate left of the door is an open kitchen. There are dishes on the dry rack and plants in the window, though they are wilted and dry. You chew your lip as you step further into the house, eyes sweeping around.

A blue, painted table stands in the middle of the kitchen. Piles of mail sit on top of it with a fake plant centerpiece and your sister's car keys.

Across from the kitchen is an open doorway with a stacked washer and dryer, and a folding table. It smells faintly of detergent, clothes folded in neat piles as if Hanna had just completed a laundry day.

Everything is silent in the living room. The couch looks cozy, with piles of blankets draped across it. There’s a faint smell of vanilla, though the wick on the candle doesn’t look like it’s been lit in a while. Dust collects on the TV stand and there are sandals by the door that leads to the back porch. 

Chewing your lip, you gently press your fingers to the door of Hanna’s bedroom, holding your breath. The sudden fear that it’s going to swing open and you’ll find your sister dead in her bed nearly incapacitates you, making the room spin a little as the door fully swings open. 

Nothing. No Hanna, no rotting smell of a dead body. Just an unmade bed in a room that smells vaguely of her cherry perfume, a bathroom with the door open, and a pile of clothes near the hamper.

The sight of the clothes on the floor and right next to the hamper slams you with a wave of nostalgia. You walk into the room and you unceremoniously plop yourself down on the edge of the bed. It sags underneath you but you don’t care, letting your face fall into your hands and letting a sob rip through you. 

Hanna isn’t here. You knew she wouldn’t be, but the relief that you don’t find her dead is so poignant that you can barely breathe past the snot clotting your nose and the way your throat constricts as you let out the fear. 

The sobs subside and you wipe your face, hands coming away sticky and wet. Through swollen eyes, you look around the room. With a wipe of your hands on your jeans, you get up and start looking around, pulling open drawers and looking for evidence of the last time that Hanna was in this home. 

It’s slow going. You’re unfamiliar with the space and you don’t know what to look for. It doesn’t seem like she had packed anything, but then again, how would you know if she did? 

There are signs that she hasn’t been in the house in weeks. Rotted food inside of the fridge, molded bread in the pantry. 

Outside, weeds grow around the steps. A cricket pops from the railing to the grass where its green body vanishes. The yard isn’t much of a yard - it’s open to the trees and a kudzu field to the west. 

Back inside, you grab Hanna’s keys and open her car. There is nothing inside that looks like she was trying to make a quick getaway. An extra pair of shoes shoved in the back, and an empty grocery bag she was using for trash - all normal things. 

In the passenger seat, you strike gold. 

Hanna’s journals and folders sit in the passenger seat, stacked in a leaning tower with pages sticking out from the edges of her books and slanted handwriting scrawled on the folder tabs. Gathering all of it, you head back inside and deposit the stack on the kitchen table before looking around the house again to see if there’s any sign of her. 

Something in your gut tells you that Hanna hasn’t been in the home for at least a month, if not more. 

Dread creeps into your stomach as you gather items and pack a bag. Your intention is to keep it on you at all times in the event that you find her cold and alone somewhere. The thought of needing it leaves a sour tang on your tongue, but you pack it nevertheless.

Bag over your shoulder and stack of Hanna’s investigative work in hand, you head off to your room at the motel. The afternoon sun still burns hot over your head, but you have no intention of sitting in the empty house that carries the scent of your sister’s absence. 

-

… While most historical accounts and official state documents indicate that Kill Devil was founded in 1730, journals buried deep in the city’s crumbling library have written records of townsfolk living in this settled town long before it was declared an official town. The journals reference the town as Covenstead and are filled with generations of the same family names. 

Booth. 

Park. 

Warren. 

Kim. 

Jung. 

Jeon. 

Min. 

Generations of these families settled in Covenstead and built what is now Kill Devil. From the description of the town in the collection of journals, it appears that the general layout of the town is similar to Kill Devil’s current city map. 

Throughout the journals, there is a reference to the Wood. It seems to be a place mentioned in reverence, and there are allusions to celebrations in the Wood with entries dated in alignment with sabbats on the Wheel of the Year. 

Only Mabon is referenced in any of the journals explicitly, in a strange entry from a man named Yoongi Min. I have written it here for safekeeping: We bringeth the little lamb to The Wood today for the honor of Mabon. I loathe seeing him go, for he hath brought cheer and many a smile to the Covenstead. May he bring us blessings and warmth in the winter. 

Your finger traces over your sister’s writing. She still writes in her cramped, crooked way, with the sabbats of pagan holidays crammed in the margins. You smile, biting your bottom lip again as you go through the written notes of her study. It is dizzying and you’re unsure what exactly you’re looking at, but something tickles the back of your mind as you reread the entry she copied from the long-dead Yoongi Min. There’s something you're missing.

This time, your eyes snag on a word. 

“The Covenstead,” you murmur, reading it over again. “Why would he call it the Covenstead? Is that just an older way of speaking?”

A tingle pricks your neck as you stare at the entry. You can’t understand what made your sister think this entry was odd besides the old-fashioned writing and reference to Mabon, because she writes nothing more on her analysis, and none of the journals she had been studying were anywhere you could find. 

Sighing, you push away her notebook and pull out a collection of folders and papers that she had on the town. It’s mostly renderings of the town in its heyday with maps and newspaper articles. There seems to be no correlation between her clippings of new business openings and random town news. 

Kill Devil Court House Gets New Building

Bird Flu? Poultry Farm in Trouble After Flock Dies

The Grove Neighborhood Building Plans Accepted by Mayor

Mayor’s Son Experiences Fatal Well Accident

Something catches your eye in the article about the mayor’s son who fell into a well and died at the bottom. You reach for your sister's notebook and flip to read the small dates shoved into the margins.

Mayor’s Son Experiences Fatal Well Accident

June 19, 1781

Litha: Summer Solstice

June 19-23

Grabbing the other newspaper clippings, you climb off of the bed and lay them flat against the sheets, each crinkling under the excited press of your fingers as your brain whirs. It’s a puzzle your sister seems to have figured out already, and one you don’t expect to understand.

But you do. 

Kill Devil Court House Gets New Building

February 14, 1899

Bird Flu? Poultry Farm in Trouble After Flock Dies

March 19, 1899

Ostara: Spring Equinox

March 19-22

You suck in a breath as you look at the next clipping, using your pointer finger to keep your place on the sabbats calendar your sister has written down to see that the article for the new neighborhood The Grove is dated only a month before the mayor's son fell tragically in the well. 

“Holy shit, Hanna,” you mutter, rubbing a hand over your mouth and staring with burning eyes at the dates. “They match with pagan rituals? Something good, followed by something bad… like revenge? Punishment? Payment?” 

The question bothers you. A flutter in your gut tells you that you’re asking the right questions as you stare at the pages, unseeing and trying to understand what your sister is getting at. She didn’t write down her thoughts explicitly - in case anyone stole her work, she’d said - and now you’re wishing she weren’t so paranoid. Or that she at least used a computer. 

It isn’t an easy answer to puzzle out. An ache has settled deep in your temples and your half-eaten dinner has long gone cold. You decide you’ve earned a shower, though you don’t go into the bathroom without the bug spray armed and ready. 

Briefly, you think about Hoseok. Such an oddity to the town. You can’t help but think about the way he changes from light to dark so quickly, face becoming shadowed and eyes masked, expression there and gone so quickly that you’re unsure if you saw it at all. 

Strange. It’s all very strange. 

-

There is a shadow in the parking lot again. This time, it’s closer. The bulb burning above the lot flickers, but stays on. The shadow stands just beyond the silver halo of light it distributes.

No moon hangs in the sky. It is dark dark dark - impossibly dark. You stare through a crack in your curtains, watching the shadow as it watches you. Dread weighs down the pit of your stomach and you feel a fresh wave of terror-laced nausea sweep through you. 

You slide a foot backward gently, preparing to step away from the window. The shadow twitches and cocks its head to the side, not unlike a dog curious about something it’s heard. You suck in a sharp breath and hold it in, air screaming in your lungs, heart racing a frantic staccato. 

Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck it seems to say, beating until it’s all you can hear and feel, pumping your system so full of adrenaline that you feel light-headed. 

Your heart turns into a drum, frantic. It beats louder and louder and you feel rooted to your spot on the carpet, the soles of your feet surgical-stitched to the ugly shag carpet. You stare and stare and stare at the shadow and your heart is hammering so loud boom boom BOOM BOOM BOOM BOOM-

Sweat-drenched and gasping for air, you sit up. Your heart pounds so hard you can feel it under the palm you have pressed against your chest. But the banging is coming from the hotel door, a steady stream of closed-fist hammering and Hoseok’s voice calling your name. 

Peeling the covers back from your damp skin, you stumble to the door, nightmare-drunk and disoriented. You forget to remove the chain from the door, yanking it open and immediately slamming it to a stop as the chain pulls, refusing to let the door open.

Hoseok is on the other side, hair slightly disheveled, brows pulled together. He’s in a t-shirt and sweatpants, a casual look by anyone’s standards but still effortlessly put together. 

“Shit, hold on,” you slur, tongue heavy in your mouth with sleep. Closing the door, you slide the chain out, then reopen it successfully. “Sorry, is everything-”

“What’s going on?”

“What?”

His gaze is thunderous as he looks past you into your room. “You were screaming at the top of your lungs.”

Heat flushes your neck and face. “I-I’m sorry. I was having a nightmare. I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“I’m not mad. What’s going on?”

In the shadow of the night, he looks dangerous, made up of edges and eyes narrowed. “Can I come in?” 

You open the door and move out of his way. “Sure.”

“Thanks.”

Out of habit, you latch the door when you shut it.

Hoseok is a little out of place in your room. Even when dressed down, he looks like he belongs on a private jet, lounging among soft, polished leather and sipping exotic coffee. Not in a rundown motel room with peeling wallpaper and smoke-stained ceilings. 

“What’s all this?” Your stomach plummets when he sees the journals and papers on your bed. you rush to shove it all under the blanket but Hoseok is fast, plucking a sheet of paper and looking over it, face pinched. “Is this what you meant by your sister studies the occult?”

“Yeah, sorry, I was just um- looking over her work.” 

“You know about the occult?”

“Not at all.”

He glances at you, razor-sharp. “Then why would you be looking it over for her?”

The atmosphere shifts. It occurs to you that he doesn’t know your sister is missing. Has no idea that you’re desperately trying to put together pieces of a broken puzzle, without any clue on where to find the remaining parts to view the entire picture. 

You weigh the options of lying, losing precious time as the silence hangs heavy and awkward between the two of you. He watches, brows raised and expectant, fingers gripping the paper. 

“My sister is missing.” It feels weird to say it. Your tongue feels heavy and as you stare over his shoulder at a fixed spot on the wall, it feels like someone else enters your body to tell him, “I came here because no one would help me find her. She was here studying the town's occult myths for work and vanished. I had this… horrible feeling when she stopped calling and answering.”

“Have you contacted the authorities?”

You scoff and throw a glare at him. “Of course I have. It’s useless and frustrating. No one seems to give a shit that there is a missing person, and every lawyer, law officer and city official I talk to don’t fucking care. It’s like they’re all programmed to give me the same answer. They keep telling me that they’ve seen her around or that she’s probably ignoring me on purpose. They make me seem crazy.”

You expect him to tell you to leave it to the authorities. That’s what Hanna’s boss had told you to do. No one seems to be alarmed, no one cares. But you do. Desperately. And you cannot wrap your head around them looking the other way. 

You’re preparing for the same reaction when Hoseok surprises you by saying, “You’re not crazy.”

“I’m not?”

He quirks a brow and his rosebud lips twitch in a smirk. “Well, you probably are. But not for this. Have you asked around town about her?”

You shake your head. “I only went to the house that she was staying at. I wanted to see if maybe she really was ignoring me or maybe just… I don’t know. In the zone for work. She wasn’t there and it doesn’t look like there was any sign of distress.” 

“Take me there.”

“Right now?”

“Yes.” He tosses the papers onto the pile on your bed. “We’ll be safe.”

“First of all,” you hedge. “How do I know that? I barely know you. Second of all, what is going there in the middle of the night going to help?”

“I’m good at investigating. Maybe I’ll see something that you don’t.”

“Sorry, are you a cop now?”

“No, it’s hard to explain but I promise I’m trying to help you.” When you don’t move, Hoseok grimaces. “Look,” he explains evenly. “I really am trying to help you. I haven’t been entirely honest about why I’m here in this town. I came because I was also interested in some things happening here. Now I’m worried your sister is involved.”

Your heart squeezes painfully in your chest. “Involved how?”

“I don’t know. I’m hoping it’s a coincidence. Believe it or not, those do happen. But I’d like to visit her house to see if there’s anything at all that sticks out to me.” You hesitate, chewing on your lip. You don’t really know him, and now you trust him even less with his reasoning. “Please,” he adds. 

You relent. “Fine.” Hanna is your main goal. You don’t trust Hoseok, but you wonder if he really can help you when no one else has. “Let’s go.” 

Damp air rushes through the open windows of your car. You lowered them as you got in for a quick escape if Hoseok attacks you while you drive. He says nothing in the passenger seat, eyes fixed on the pine trees rushing behind you. 

Outside, the world is painted night-blue from the moon. There’s a weird hue to everything, making it feel as though you’re wading with heavy limbs through a dream. It’s no better when you arrive at the dark house.

It looks terrifying at night. There’s no street light to guide you, only that of the silver moon and the bright halogen lights of your car. You turn off your vehicle but switch the headlights on, turning on the high beams to shine on the house. 

On the edges of where the light fades to shadow, your fear lies. The trees look taller than in the daylight, their branches like craggy limbs and reaching fingers. Anxiety bubbles uncomfortably in your stomach. 

Each crunch of the grass beneath your feet falls too loud against the heavy silence. Here, you notice that the crickets are no longer singing. It’s just the hush of the wind gusting through the canyons and the far-away swell as it blows up the hills. 

Though it’s not cool outside, there’s a chill on your skin. Hoseok walks up to the house, the beams of the car’s headlights throwing his shadow across it in jarring, monstrous shapes. You keep your eyes focused on him and your keys tucked in your hand, ready to use them as a weapon if needed. 

Hoseok doesn’t seem concerned about your anxiety or the silence thrumming around the home. He walks up the steps and opens the door, vanishing into the dark mouth of the threshold. For a moment, you stand in the front yard, getting tunnel vision as you stare at the darkness in the doorway. 

You imagine stepping over the threshold into that cool dark, letting it suck you in. You imagine that as soon as your shoes hit the creaking floor, Hoseok will snatch you by the waist and pull you into the belly of the beast. Once in his clutches, he’ll throw you to the ground and the last thing you’ll remember is-

Hoseok reappears in the doorway. You blink and the waking nightmare melts away, so vivid that you’re shaking where you’re standing, looking at him in confusion. He hops down the stairs, scowling as he crosses the front lawn in a few long strides. 

He pauses when he sees your face. “What’s wrong? You look like you’ve seen a ghost?”

“I…” you shake your head, trying to dispel the weird vision you had a moment ago. “Nothing. I just don’t like the dark very much.” 

“Uh-huh.”

“Did you find anything?”

His lip twitches. It’s almost impossible to detect, but you’re so focused on his face and trying not to picture him as the man in the terrifying thought you had moments ago, that you see it. “No.” 

Lying. He’s lying. You clutch your keys and your breath quickens. He moves to round the side of the car and take the passenger seat, but you step in front of him. He pulls up short, eyes narrowing as you stand between him and the vehicle, blood pumping. 

“I think you’re lying.”

“About what?”

“A lot of things.”

“What gives you that impression?”

“My instinct.”

He hums. “Instinct isn’t always a good thing.” He looks you up and down. “I didn’t find anything,” he says again. “I just got a really weird feeling inside of the house.”

“And?”

“And it’s the same weird feeling I’ve gotten in other places where people visiting went missing. Including the motel we’re staying at.” That makes you recoil. You feel the blood drain from your face, making you a little dizzy. You don’t know what’s going on, don’t understand what he’s getting at. “Your sister’s notes were about the covenstead here.”

That word again. The covenstead and not Covenstead, like a town name. “It was the town name before it was Kill Devil.” 

“No,” he corrects. “It was a landmark. A covenstead, for people who lived here. A coven.” 

“A coven.” He nods. “Like vampires and witches?” 

Hanna’s notes had included all of those pagan holidays crammed in the margins of her work. Marking dates of occurrences that coincided with sabbat holidays. “Hoseok,” you say slowly. “Are you telling me that a bunch of witches live here and have kidnapped my sister?”

He regards you for a moment, eyes flickering up and down. His face is unreadable and dark in the night air, eyes shadowed and haunting. “That’s actually exactly what I’m saying.”

“Witches aren’t real.” 

He frowns. “I can prove that they are.” 

“How?”

He gestures to the car. “Let’s go.” 

-

When you were younger, your sister always believed in magic. You remember spending all of October huddled on the couch with crocheted blankets, watching Halloween movies with the blanket pulled warm over scabbed knees, with popcorn-greased fingers tucked under heated thighs. Hanna always picked the movies - Halloween was her time of the year and you were happy to indulge. 

Hanna’s choices were always superb. Hocus Pocus received more airtime than anything else, replayed between Halloweentown one and two, Practical Magic, The Witches and The Addams Family among others. Every night of the month was crammed full of magic and spells and haunted houses, sweetened by candy corn and Butterfingers. 

Those were the nights that you loved the most. There was no fighting, no whining and crying over Hanna stealing your hair clips or you breaking her hair dryer. It was just the two of you, pressed skin-to-skin and spelled by the scrolling movies.

It’s as close to magic as you’ve ever been. You don’t think you were ever closer to her than in those moments. Under the blankets and the dim candles your mother lit, you were one being, melded. You knew when she would gasp at every jump scare and whisper each one of her favorite lines. 

Thinking back on it, you wonder if Hanna was onto something. She always insisted that parts of the movies had to be true. Stories are rooted in history, and though myth and legend changed with culture, colonization and the introduction of new religions, science and ideas, there was something about the concept of magic and spirit that felt real to her. 

It was why she went to school and majored in journalism with minors in folklore and history. She had even started a master's program for occult studies and folklore, spending late nights studying between traveling across the country from haunt to haunt for her job. 

Staring at her work on the bed of your hotel room as Hoseok adds some of his own notes and findings, you have never missed her more. There is a sudden ache inside of your chest, so strong that it takes your breath away. Your hand goes to the necklace at your neck, feeling flushed, heart pounding. 

Hoseok is explaining how there used to be a coven of witches that lived in the Wood long before Kill Devil existed. The Wood, Hoseok explains, is like a living and breathing conduit of power. It was something that gave the coven power but also needed to be fed. 

The Covenstead. You remember the journal entry that had called it the covenstead. A place where witches commune and live together as one functioning body of magic. That much power does things to a place, skews the way the world works a little bit. He gives examples of places all around the world with similar experiences: the Bermuda Triangle, Door To Hell, Reed Flute Cave. All places where an abundance of magic and energy warps the way life functions. 

But the Wood was strange before the witches got here. Hoseok rolls out a map, fingers tracing the lines of the city. Clarity snaps like a rubberband stinging against skin as you stare at it, lips parted, inhaling sharply. 

The city roads make a pentagram, and at the very center is the courthouse. 

“This is on purpose,” Hoseok explains. “There are other places in the world where the way the city or town or village is built is like a pentagram. Usually, these are called portals. They’re different from faerie rings which have their own power and distortions. These portals are for practicing witches and those who know how to use them.”

“Portals for what?”

“Creatures of great power that exist in worlds that don’t belong to us. Part of what gives witches their ability to perform magic is their energy. They are attuned to the world around them in a way that humans are not.”

“What do you mean?”

“Do you understand the concept of third and fourth dimensions?” 

“Third dimension is what we live in,” you answer mechanically, somewhat familiar with the idea. “If a fourth dimension existed, we wouldn’t know because it moves in a way that we are unable to perceive. The fourth dimension, in theory, is movement and sight we would never have.”

“Exactly. But witches are attuned to that. These pentagrams,” Hoseok murmurs, tapping the map. “Are made to connect to the fourth dimension. Pentagrams are not inherently evil or even paranormal, but similar to sacred geometry, they… radiate at a frequency that other dimensions do. Powerful symbols like this have existed since Mesopotamia.” 

“I… how does this prove that magic is real?”

For a moment, you’re distracted by the way Hoseok’s artful fingers pluck your sister's notebook from the bed. He flips until you’re looking at her journal entries and the newspaper clippings with dates and headlines. 

“Witchcraft is different in every culture and part of the world. These holidays have roots in Celtic and Welsh craft. It was brought over by the pilgrims when people fled England and traveled here. This is old - not as old as whatever lives in the Wood, but old enough that it’s powerful. These dates you’re looking at? They’re sacrifices to keep the Wood powerful.”

“How do you even know all of this?”

“I’ve studied it my entire life.”

“Why?” 

“It’s just something that runs in my family. We’re very spiritual people.” Something about the way his voice wavers makes you look at him sharply. Hoseok isn’t looking at you, busying himself with sifting through papers. There’s a pinch in your gut that makes you think he’s lying, but you’re afraid to push the matter. 

“Get some rest,” he says, breaking your exhausted train of thought. “We can talk more in the morning when you’re not exhausted.” 

“Yeah.” You rub your weary eyes. “Yeah, okay.” 

With Hoseok gone, you crawl into the bed, leaving the light on, staring off into the distance as your hand clutches your necklace. Your lip trembles and your throat constricts painfully. When you close your eyes, you feel tears slide down your face. 

Tucking your face into the pillow to hide your tears, you let out a small, aching sound. You just want to know where your sister is, and somehow you’ve landed in the middle of a hateful little town with strange little people and a strange little fantasy.

Crying is inevitable. But at least it puts you to sleep.

-

This time, you know you’re dreaming. You don’t know how you know, but you do. There’s a watery feeling to the hotel room when you open your eyes. As though you’re both there and you’re not.

You glance at the clock but the numbers are all wrong. You rub your eyes and look again, but no matter how hard you try, you can’t make sense of them.

You want to sit up. You move your arms - no, you try to move your arms. They don’t move, suddenly too heavy to slide under the covers of your blanket and peel it back. Panic sparks in you as you try to shift your legs, but though you can feel them, you can’t move them.

Terror as you’ve never known slides between your ribs, sharp and poignant. You can’t breathe and you know you’re dreaming and yet you can’t move. You close your eyes, brain repeating the same words over and over again: wake up wake up wake up wake up WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP WAKE UP-

It doesn’t happen. You open your eyes and your room still has the dream-glazed light to it, and you still can’t move. Something shifts in your peripheral vision. Your heart seizes in your chest so sharply you think you’ll die. 

You cannot turn your head to look at the shadow that moves just beyond your sight. Tears slip from your eyes, hot, wet and burning. You can’t wipe them. They blind you, turn your vision into an opaque, watery mess as something slides to the foot of your bed. 

When you feel the mattress dip, you try to scream. The sound is locked in your throat, with so much force behind it that you wait for your vocal cords to explode. The fear is raw now, your eyes wild, tears leaking as you mentally thrash and thrash and thrash. 

Weight shifts on either side of the bed and you have the sense that there is someone crawling on you but you can’t see beyond your crying, can’t hear beyond the pounding of your own heartbeat slamming in your ears, blocking out every other noise and-

Something invisible to you grips your throat. You still have the instinct to move, driving you to madness as your brain signals for your hands to fly to your assailant and yank and remove the hold on your neck. 

It’s crushing. You gasp for air, no noise coming out as the grip tightens, and you know with certainty that this is it. Whatever dream this is will kill you, this time. 

The realization that you’re going to die suddenly mutes the terror. It slides behind a glass door, beating its fists, but it's duller now. You have sharper clarity, and briefly you think of what Hoseok said about beings from the fourth dimension, and how the witches summon them through their craft here. To this place. Where you cannot perceive them. 

You wonder if this happened to Hanna. You miss her, your sister, with big dreams and fast smiles and a head full of magic and wondering. This, you think, is how you go. And perhaps you’ll join her. 

Thoughts blend together, sloshed wine in a glass. They’re warm and liquid and have no shape to them, no real purpose. It’s like you know you’re thinking, but you don’t know of what. Darkness pools at the edge of your vision. It feels cold and alone but you drift toward it, away from the pain. 

And then you can breathe. 

Air comes sweeping in, forcing its way into your mouth, into your lungs. Your lungs inflate so painfully that for a split second, you think they’re on fire. Oxygen burns its way through you and bursts of color explode on the canvas of your closed eyes - you don’t remember closing your eyes. 

You roll over in bed, coughing, mouth wet with spit and phlegm as you try to gulp in as much air as you can. 

High-pitched ringing whines in your ears, and there are muffled sounds on the other end of it. The motel room tilts back into vision, melting into place. You think that the room has reloaded into your world wrong - everything is crooked. 

Then you realize you’re laying on your side, gagging and gasping for air. There is a hand against to your back, palm cold, fingertips freezing. The touch, you realize, feels full of energy, your spine tingling where it’s pressed against you. 

Lurching away from the touch, you roll to the side of the bed, looking at the person whose hand had been pressed against you. 

Hoseok’s tangled in the sheets, hair a mess, shirtless and in sweats. He’s panting, flushed, and there’s a sheen of sweat on his body. But it’s his eyes that stop you from scrambling away. They’re dark, burning like two pieces of coal as he looks at you, kneeling with his hands in his lap, palms facing the ceiling. 

Hoseok says something. The ringing in your ears has just started to die down and you shake your head, unsure of what he means and not confident in your ability to speak. 

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

You stare at him. “What the fuck just happened to me?”

“This is my fault, I’m so sorry.”

“What?” 

He lifts his hands and you flinch. The look on his face is pure heartbreak, shrouded in golden light. “Please,” he murmurs. “Let me help you. I’m not going to hurt you.” 

It’s quiet, save for the sound of the humming air conditioner. 

Trust your gut, your sister had said. 

So you do because he’s offered to help you thus far. You nod, giving him access to you. He sags in relief, shuffling forward tentatively as he takes your face in his hands. His palms are impossibly warm. Your eyes flutter shut at the touch, unable to look at him this close, this boy of light and something, as he cradles your face. 

Warmth pools in your face, saturating down to your neck and chest. The ache in your lungs eases, and the lump in your throat continues to recede. You don’t want to ask what he’s doing. You don’t want to think. You don’t want to feel the terror of moments ago ever again, and with the way Hoseok is touching you, so close that his breath fans your brow, and you can smell him like rain and lavender, you want to embrace it. 

There’s no thought process to the way you lean up into him. Your eyes are closed, your breath shaking as you seek him. Hoseok makes a surprised noise, but it vanishes as you press your lips against his.

Relief sweeps through you. It’s nothing you’ve ever felt before, every drop of terror fading away, momentarily forgotten. Every ache vanishes. It’s just Hoseok and the way he burns brighter than the sun, and the way it doesn’t hurt anymore. 

After a brief moment of hesitation, he kisses you back. It’s sweet and soft-lipped, his fingers pressing into the side of your face gently as he pulls you to him. You follow his pull, both physically and something like a tether, getting up on your knees to get closer. 

Hoseok breaks the kiss, nose brushing yours. You open your eyes, half-lidded and feeling dizzy from just the gentle press of lips. His eyes are dark, but you see the light flecks of brown in them, like an entire world of sun and stars exist in their depths. 

“Make it go away,” you whisper.

You don’t specify. The pain, the nightmares, the fear, the weird town, the worry about your sister. You want it all to stop and this person you barely know - you feel as though he can take it away. Or mute it. 

He nods, eyes closing as he kisses you properly. You forget what you were worried about, and it’s all you can do not to fall headfirst into Hoseok. His mouth is warm and wet, tongue soft but greedy as he pries your mouth open, drinking you in. 

Hoseok’s lips tingle against yours, sending a shiver skating down your spine. You wrap your hands around his neck, fingers tangling in the silky strands there. He hums appreciatively when your nails slow-scratch at the base of his scalp. 

Carefully, Hoseok shuffles you into his lap. Your knees dip on the mattress on either side of his hips, straddling his waist. His hands find the hem of your sleep shirt and pull upward. You break the kiss, a string of spit connecting your flushed mouths before the garment breaks it.

The room is cold, air hitting your bare chest and hardening your nipples immediately. You whine but Hoseok is fast, pressing your chest to his as he attaches his mouth to your neck, sucking at the tender flesh sharply. 

“Fuck,” you whisper, letting your head drop backward heavily. Your eyes are shut and the world feels like it’s spinning. He has one hand on your hip, the other on the small of your back, pressing you to him to keep you warm and to rock your hips gently into his. “Feels good.”

He hums in response, sucking wet stains onto your flesh as he moves toward your chest. You push your tits out to meet his searching mouth, gasping lightly when the rough drag of his tongue swipes across your nipple. 

The sensation is overwhelming. Your fingers dig into the back of his neck as Hoseok sucks your peak greedily. You’re grinding into his lap on your own now, panties clinging to your hot, sticky folds as you seek friction. He’s hard beneath you and you want to feel him. 

Letting you rut in his lap, Hoseok drags delicate fingers over the curve of your ass and thigh, and his nails leave goosebumps in their wake. The feeling between your legs and at the base of your spine is heady as he lets go of one nipple with a sharp pop, tongue tracing a sloppy line to the other. 

Hoseok’s teeth tease the tight bud and you whine. “Oh?” he asks, voice rough and low. “Gonna be a baby about it?”

You shake your head, but your lip juts out as you look at him, dazed. “Want more.”

“Tell me.”

Dropping one hand from his neck, you take the hand resting on your thigh, guiding it between your legs. Hoseok presses the pads of his fingers to your underwear and you let out a keen. It’s not nearly enough, but the pressure sends another wave of arousal flooding through you. 

“Hmm,” he hums, dragging his fingers back and forth over the damp cloth. “Soaked from just that, huh?” You nod and he bites your collarbone. Fuck, he’s going to kill you, sending another tremble down your frame. He hooks a finger in your underwear, sliding against your glossy folds experimentally and he curses, “Fuck. Pussy is already messy and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Please.”

“What do you want? I already asked.”

“More.” Hoseok presses your clit, letting you drip onto his fingers, but he doesn’t move them. You grit your teeth. “Want your fingers,” you ask through clenched teeth. “Fuck me with them, anything. Please.” 

He grins, face wicked before he kisses your nose. “See, you just had to tell me.” 

You’re tense as he pulls your underwear to the side, shoving the fabric against your thigh. Cool air hits your cunt. You can’t recall ever wanting someone like this, vibrating uncontrollably as he traces your slit with his fingers, lazily circling your clit.

A sigh of relief escapes your lips and you drop your forehead on Hoseok’s shoulder. He lets you sag against him as he plays with your pussy, fingers barely dipping to tease your hole and gather juices before coming back to trace your clit, applying delicious pressure. 

It feels so good. It’s mind-numbing, letting him do what he wants. Hoseok pants in your ear, breathing stilted between chaste kisses against the side of your head. 

Painfully slow, Hoseok inserts a single finger into your wet heat. The sound you let out is high-pitched and loud. It’s not nearly enough, but you lose all sense of asking for more as his finger slides in deep, pressing against your front wall to massage that delicate spot inside of you.

“Oh shit,” you stutter, unable to help it. 

He laughs, voice deep when he asks, “Yeah? That the spot?”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

He slow-drags his finger in and out of your pussy, fucking you slowly. He curses, teasing you only for a moment before he gifts you another. The stretch is so much better, and you melt. He thrusts leisurely, not hard and fast but deep. Your walls swallow his fingers, gripping them and begging him not to stop as a tight coil winds in your stomach as he presses hard against your g-spot.

It’s messy, the wet drag of his fingers in your cunt. You feel the slow drip of arousal every time he pulls back, soaking his hand. It drops down your thighs as he picks up the pace. You lift your hips a little, adding a bounce to his motions. 

“Oh? You wanna do it?” He stops moving his hand and you let out a desperate sound. He laughs. “No, go ahead. If you’re so eager, do it yourself. Fuck yourself on my fingers.”

Seeking balance by holding his shoulders, you grip him tight, face tucked in his neck as you maneuver yourself, using your knees to lightly fuck yourself on his fingers. It feels so good, and you adjust the angle until you feel him hit that spot again, making you see stars. 

It’s electric, this feeling rippling in your bloodstream. It feels different with Hoseok and you can’t place why, but your orgasm is building so sharply in your stomach that you nearly stop thrusting, overwhelmed by the sensation. 

The pressure in your stomach winds and winds and winds until it snaps, every muscle in your thighs and ass squeezing tight, your hands turning to an iron grip, breath stuck in your lungs as you let out a strangled sound, squeezing Hoseok’s fingers as you come. 

Hoseok is whispering something in your ear, but you can’t hear him over the thundering heartbeat of your pulse, shaking as you come down from your high. When you do, you’re vaguely aware that he’s pulled his fingers out, but he’s massaging the tight ring of muscles, making you shiver.

“Fuck,” he mutters. “Wanna see you stretch yourself on my cock like that.”

“Wanna,” you mumbled. 

Your limbs are heavy and lazy as you shuffle, uncoordinated. Hoseok laughs, finding you endearing as you scowl and shift off his lap. His touch is featherlight as he pulls your panties off. You need him, completely naked and shivering as your eyes drop from the smooth, carved planes of his chest and abs to the heavy imprint of his cock in his sweats.

And the wet stain mess you’ve made. 

Flushed, you watch as he looks up at you, smirking. “Go on.” 

Scooting toward him with eager hands, you rest with your feet tucked under you. Dipping your touch below his waistband, you grasp him firmly, cock heavy in your hand. He sighs, head tilting back a little while you slide your grip along his shaft.

Brushing your thumb over his tip to collect hot, sticky precum, you spread it, looking up at him through your eyelashes as you stroke him gently, testing the waters. His hips twitch and his mouth parts, gold light of the lamp turning him into Giovanni’s Apollo. He is ethereal, a burning sun and you suddenly understand why Icarus flew to his demise.

Maybe you will too. 

With your other hand, you push Hoseok’s sweats down. Though you could feel the size and swollen weight of him in your hand, it’s still a marvel when you see his thick length, dark tip oozing precum. 

A hiss escapes his teeth when you give him a firm squeeze. He lets you pump him lazily, and your mouth catches the underside of his jaw, teething and sucking sharp marks into his skin. He tastes like something electric and a little bit of sweat, your tongue buzzing. 

“Hmm,” he hums, fingers gripping the back of your neck to pull your mouth back up to his. It’s more spit and him gasping into your mouth more than anything. “You know how stunning you are?”

You feel heat creep up in your cheeks. Hoseok shuffles away from you and you let go of your grip on him, watching his dick slap against his stomach, smearing precum. He sits near the headboard, leaning against the wallpaper and staring at you with hungry eyes. 

“You’re going to make me shy,” you say softly, though you still crawl toward him. You can feel the slick slide of your inner thighs. He pumps his cock lazily, giving you a look that says he doesn’t believe you. “You’re pretty.”

“Think so?”

You nod, a little light-headed and uneven. You tilt toward the side and he catches you, hands sticky from your mixed arousal. Bending down, you capture his lips. Hoseok runs the crown of his cock through your folds and you moan, lips parting. He drinks in your sounds, licking them from the roof of your mouth. 

For a moment, it’s just the teasing and sloppy kissing, pausing to pant into each other's mouths, slick from sweat. He presses the blunt head of his dick into your hole, dipping only a little before retreating and sliding back up to tease your clit.

“Hoseok,” you growl, biting on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood, the iron tang blooming in your mouth. He hisses out a laugh and does it again. This time, you lower your pussy, trying to catch him on an angle to sink down on him. “Stoooop.”

“Whiny baby,” he teases again. “Cock-hungry, huh?”

“Wanna be full.”

“Mmm.”

Hoseok repeats the motion, but this time lets you sink slowly on the length of him. The stretch stings, hurt-laced pleasure as you suck in a sharp breath and hold it. It feels like your lungs might burst, shaking as you slide down until your ass rests on his damp thighs and you feel the tip of his cock deep in your gut. 

“Fuck,” you gasp, leaning forward, palms pressed to his shoulders. They slide a little, his skin warm and sweaty. You dig your nails in for purchase and he sucks in a sharp breath, but lets you claw your way back to sanity from the feeling. “Deep.”

His hands find purchase on your ass, digging in and massaging. “Come on, then. You were so eager for my fingers.” 

You lift your hips a little, the slide delicious against your warm walls, and drop down with a wet smack. You both moan at that and you grin, putting the weight into Hoseok’s shoulders as you lift your hips again, hypnotized by the wet schlick of your cunt sliding on his length. 

Everything fades away again. Your thighs burn as you increase your movements, chasing the buzz that has settled deep in your stomach. Hoseok lets you use him, his eyes fixed on the way your cunt drips into his lap. 

His nails bite into the meat of your ass and you feel dragged under by the pleasure, the sting of his grip and the pressure of his cock hitting your g-spot sending you further and further.

Your legs grow a little tired, movements sloppy. Hoseok doesn’t mind, planting his feet on the bed and thrusting upward to meet you, hands supporting your weight under your ass. He helps lift you, pulling you up and down until you’re mumbling incoherently. 

It feels mind-numbingly good, and the tension in your stomach grows taught and tight, your second orgasm oncoming. 

“Come on,” Hoseok demands between clenched teeth. “Give it to me.” 

You nod, sliding a hand between your thighs, fingers circling your clit with just enough pressure and speed to get you shaking again. White spots appear in your vision as you squeeze your eyes shut, letting him take over and fuck up into you, cunt gushing as you come hard enough around him that you fall forward. 

Hoseok lets you lay on his chest, dead weight as he claws at your ass and thighs, rutting up into you. You’re dimly aware of the soaked mess of your smacking bodies, but your ears are ringing and you feel lighter than you’ve ever felt before. 

You begin to whine in oversensitivity just as Hoseok slams into you as deep as he can, cock twitching and filling you up. You shiver as he grunts, hips bucking with a wet squelch as he gently fucks you through his orgasm.

Both of you lay there in a messy pile as his cock softens inside of you. Cum pools between your pressed bodies, but you don’t care. The room is humid, the light dim with the haze of how far gone you feel. Hoseok traces soft circles on your hips with his fingers. Your mouth is pressed against his jaw, breath kissing his skin. 

You could fall asleep here, you think. It’s nice to forget for a while, to let your body feel the pounding of his heart against your chest, the shaking of his thighs against yours, the ache in your muscles. 

Heaviness tugs at you, so close to pulling you under, but Hoseok stirs. You feel drunk, letting him peel the two of you apart until you’re stumbling to the shower. The air makes your tacky, cum-covered skin cold. 

It’s hard to fit both of you in the shower, but you manage it, rotating under the rough spray of the hot water, hands exploring and kneading sore muscles. Your lips are abused and feel bruised, but it doesn’t stop you from seeking the comfort of his mouth, the world turning to static every time you kiss him. 

The motel room smells like sex and sweat when you return to peel clothes back on. Wordlessly, Hoseok takes your hand and leads you to his room on the other side of the wall. It has the same faded wallpaper, the same dusty and stained lampshades, but it looks more lived in.

There are added pieces in the room. A dehumidifier hums in the corner, and there is a hamper full of clothes. Hoseok has added plants near the window, plasticky leaves vibrant green and shiny. Burnt-out incense sits on the plastic folding table he’s erected, books and papers splayed out over its surface. There’s a collection of crystals you can’t identify.

An inviting bed beckons you. You both fall into it, heavy-limbed and sighing. It smells like Hoseok, a mix of rain and lavender. There’s a sense of trepidation as you roll over on the mattress.

Carefully, Hoseok pulls you to him. He presses your back to his chest, one arm going under his head as he yawns and smacks his lips lightly, the other looping over your waist.  

“No one is going to bother you,” he sleep-slurs. “I got rid of them. And they won’t go against me.”

You hum, sleep crawling up and stealing your thoughts. You wonder how he got rid of them and why they’re afraid of him. 

It isn’t until he mumbles a response that you realize you’ve spoken your question out loud. “Because,” he sighs, words slow and soft, as he drifts off to sleep. “I told them you’re mine.” 

Hoseok’s words are lost on you because you’re long asleep. 

-

No dreams disturb you. When you wake up, you feel the weight of the night before on you. It’s cool and empty behind you as you startle, realizing you’d fallen asleep with Hoseok there. You look over your shoulder, blinking away sleep, and see that it’s just you in the dark room.

From the bathroom, you can hear the shower. You relax a little, groaning as you roll to your back and stare up at the popcorn-textured ceiling. Your thighs still burn with the soreness from the night before and you bite your bottom lip, trying to conceal your grin. 

Gently, you bring your hand to prod at your neck where it had hurt so much last night. You remember the lock-limb nightmare, the feeling of needing to scream. The thought that you were dying. 

Hoseok had saved you, but it begged the question of how. You remember asking him last night, but you cannot remember what he answered. You’re also surprised to find that you’re not in any pain from whoever or whatever had attacked you. 

Unease turns your stomach but you decide to crawl out of his bed, wandering around his room. A salt lamp casts an orange glow on his makeshift desk. You’re drawn to the mess on top of it, looking at the stacks of books and frowning. They’re not in English - or any language that you know, embossed symbols and shapes on the covers and cracked spines. 

Lifting a heavy, green canvas book, you flip it over in your hands. The edges of the paper are yellow and oxidized with time and there is a gold symbol pressed on the front. Your fingers trace the groove, remembering what Hoseok said the day before about sacred geometry. 

Putting it down, you select another book. It has a pentagram on it. When you flip the book open, the pages are filled with slanted writing, diagrams, and shapes. You recognize sabbat dates and stop when you get to a picture of interlocking shapes. You trace the symbol absently, wondering what it means. 

Why does he have books like this? 

A current of electricity slides up the finger that’s tracing the symbol. You squeak in surprise and drop it, cringing at the loud clatter that it makes against the table. The shower flips off and you look at the shut door. Hoseok moves around before opening the door, sticking his head out. He’s dripping in water, hair slicked back, golden skin glistening. 

Despite the night before, you avert your eyes, shy. He doesn’t notice or doesn’t say anything, instead asking. “You okay?” He glances down at the books. “Good luck reading those.” 

“Yeah,” you answer absently.

He grins. “Be out in a second.”

When Hoseok shuts the door, you feel unsettled. Rubbing your arms to fend off a sudden chill, you continue looking through the things on his table. There’s a small glass case with the exoskeleton of a frog. You cringe, thinking about Hoseok’s pet frog awaiting death in his pitcher plants.

Hoseok’s phone starts vibrating on the desk, making you gasp. Your hand goes to your chest, feeling the way your heart pounds violently against your rib cage. Looking at the screen, you see that someone named Yoongi is calling him. 

You hesitate, cocking your head. The name rings familiar, and you watch as the call goes to voicemail. The screen fades to black but you keep staring at it. Not for the first time on your trip, you get the sense that you’re missing something, that there is something right there. 

A text from Yoongi comes in, lighting up the screen. 

Jung, you better not be fucking around with your prey again. We need to prepare. 

It doesn’t sit well with you. When the screen goes dark, you tap it, bringing up the preview. What the hell does Yoongi mean fucking around with your prey? And what are they preparing for? You swear you remember the name Yoongi, retracing your thoughts. 

You feel the blood drain from your face. You do know that name. 

“Yoongi was so mad he wouldn’t talk to me for a week.”

“What?” you had asked him. “Your cat talks?”

“Oh- he- well he meows, you know what I mean?”

Slowly, you stiffen, remembering Hoseok’s words after breakfast. It had seemed silly then, that Hoseok was talking about a cat. But it’s not the only place you’ve seen Yoongi’s name. 

Trust your gut, your sister always said. 

You look at the bathroom door once before turning on your heel and creep from the room. You pull the front door open slowly, wincing and holding your breath as the outside world makes noise. Slipping through, you’re careful not to let the door click loudly before running to your room. 

With the same care, you shut your door, flipping the bolt lock and sliding the chain in the door. The room feels like it’s spinning, your tunnel vision making you dizzy as you sweep your gaze back and forth, looking for the piles of your sister's research. It’s sitting on the floor, shoved off the bed where you let him fuck you last night. 

The urge to vomit flips your stomach as you dive for the papers, riffling through them and scanning, feverish and sweaty. You find the entry you want, finger pressing to the page as you read it multiple times, fear making the words tangle.

Only Mabon is referenced in any of the journals explicitly, in a strange entry from a man named Yoongi Min. I have written it here for safekeeping: We bringeth the little lamb to The Wood today for the honor of Mabon. I loathe to see him go, for he hath brought cheer and many a smile to the Covenstead. May he bring us blessings and warmth in the winter. 

Yoongi. 

A sick feeling coils in your stomach as your hands tremble, eyes scanning the list of names your sister scribbled out as old families in Kill Devil. There’s another one you remember, the one that Yoongi used in his text to Hoseok. 

Booth. 

Park. 

Warren. 

Kim. 

Jung. 

Jeon.

Min.

A shaking hand presses to your mouth. Jung. “Fuck,” you squeak, looking at the wall separating you from Hoseok’s room.

It occurs to you that all this time, you thought the citizens were looking at Hoseok with contempt. How easily hatred can be confused for fear. Hoseok, who had shown up every time you were having a night terror. Who seemingly knew all the right things to do to ease you.

Hoseok, who had flashes of darkness that terrified you. Whose expression could go blank as he thought about something, but flip on a dime to a bright, sunny boy. Hoseok, whose presence always gave you a weird tingle, triggering some sort of instinct you couldn’t place. 

Something happens then. With absolute certainty and a razor-sharp resolve that you’ve never experienced, you know your sister is dead. Perhaps you’ve always known. The sudden burning of your locket that night two months ago, the way that it looks like she ceased to exist. The eerie feeling dogging you, nipping at your heels. 

Hanna is dead. The pain is only sharp for a second, a slice of agony as you bend over, arms wrapped around your stomach as you let out a silent scream. The grief is powerful but abrupt as you hear Hoseok call your name on the other side of the wall. 

You stand. Because now you can’t mourn. Now, you must leave as quickly as possible. Because you hadn’t been trusting your gut, ignoring that weird little sense of something wrong. 

Now isn’t the time to scream over what you know. Now you must get away from-

“Was it the books or the phone call?” 

You whirl around. Hoseok is leaning against the wall by the door. The bolt is still flipped and the chain is still in place. You’re frozen to the spot, staring at him. He looks at the papers on the floor and back to you, smirk razor-sharp. Of course, he could get into the room without opening the lock. 

All of the features you thought were beautiful are suddenly terrifying. “It took you way too long to puzzle it together, but I guess you’re not nearly as smart as Hanna.” You open your mouth but nothing comes out, throat constricted. “You were so easy to convince though, so I guess that’s something.”

“I don’t…” your voice is raspy, shaking. 

“When you kept calling the city officials, I knew it was only time before you showed up here. I’ve been living in this fucking shit hole waiting.” He tsks and shakes his head, crossing his arms over his chest. “Took you forever.”

“The citizens?”

“Stay out of my way and stay out of the Wood. They’re the frogs I let live, so long as I find other ones.”

“Why?” you ask, shaking your head. It’s the only question you can think of. It’s the only question that matters: whywhywhywhy. “Why help me?”

“Sometimes a predator likes to play with its prey.” 

It dawns on you that he had said as much at breakfast while he was tracing symbols on the table. He had been talking about his frogs, but he had been talking about you too. How many signs had you missed because he fucking smiled at you? Something dangerous lurking behind light flirting. 

He points to himself. “Pitcher plant.” He points at you with a grin. “Frog. Ribbit.”

“Fuck you,” you snarl, fear replaced by a hatred that burns so hot the edges of your vision flash red. But it isn’t him you’re mad at. It’s you. For being so easily deceived. For being so casually influenced in a matter of days. “Fuck you, and your fucking town.” 

“I did fuck you. You were special, though. I hope that makes you feel better. Didn’t fuck your sister. You’re cute, and I had time to spare.” 

“All of this for what? To get off on the chase? The manipulation?”

He scoffs. “I already told you what this place is. It isn’t my fault you didn’t put it together. I almost hand-fed it to you. The Wood gives us power, and the Wood needs sacrifices.” Hoseok pushes himself off of the wall, his smile like the first light of the morning sun. “I’m taking you to the Wood.”

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Synopsis - Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Pairing - ExBoyfriend!Santiago Garcia x Female Reader

Word Count - 2.6k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. kinda toxic relationship dynamic. cursing. angst. this one gets a little rough.

Author's Note - I was in a mood when I wrote this. it's not often I write angst like this, but when I do, I aim to break some hearts. not sure why I chose Santiago for this one... it just felt right. I know this isn't a part of any of my series, but this idea came to me and I managed to bang it out in an hour. series fics coming soon - promise!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

This is the way it always goes.

You know it's him as soon as you hear the knocking.

He always knocks as if he's trying to break the door down. Maybe he is. He's broken down everything else in your life.

This is the way it always goes.

You tell yourself you're not answering. You're going to sit here and listen to him bang on the door. Then you'll listen as he yells, begs, tries to sweet talk you through the heavy oak, words seeping through the wood like raindrops. You're not answering.

But then he uses that tone, the honeyed, dulcet, low and raspy one. The one that shoots straight to your heart. His voice cracks, and so does your resolve.

You slowly wander towards the front door, sitting down against it with a thud. He hears it. He knows you're there. He knew you'd come around.

"Baby," he whispers.

You hear him loud and clear.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your baby, Santiago."

You're trying to sound authoritative but you just sound broken. Lost. Helpless.

"You are," he pleads. "Don't say that. You are my baby. You're always going to be my baby."

"No, I'm not," you plead back.

This is the way it always goes.

"You're the love of my goddamn life, honey. When are you going to realise that?"

"I'm not," you counter. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not."

There are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks. You didn't even realise you were crying until you felt the water hit your lap. He always makes you cry.

Your lover shouldn't make you cry.

"Just let me in. Let me see you. Please."

It's always the pleading please that gets you. Santiago isn't exactly a polite man. He gets what he wants and he takes what he needs and he usually doesn't care who gets hurt in the process.

"No, Santiago. No. You do this every time. Nothing ever changes. You never change."

"I'm trying, baby. I promise you I am. It's hard, it's really fucking hard, but I'm trying. For you. I'm trying for you."

You don't believe a word he says. You don't. But he sounds so... genuine. He's the king of false promises, Santiago Garcia. Maybe, just maybe, this time it won't be false. One of these days he'll actually follow through. Maybe.

"I can't do this, Santiago. I can't. You break me more every time."

Soon, there'll be nothing left for him to break.

"Don't say that. Baby, don't say that."

You hear his head hit your door with a thud, resting there. You turn to press your forehead into the wood, the two of you so close but still so far apart.

"You hurt me, Santiago. And every time I think I'm okay, you show up again. It isn't fair."

It isn't fair. But this is the way it always goes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, hermosa. I never meant to. I love you."

It's always those three little words that crack the very foundations of your heart, splintering it into a million tiny pieces.

It's always those three little words that make you relent.

You sigh deeply, and reach up above your head to undo the deadbolt. The noise startles Santiago from where he's sat with his head against the cold wood. He rises to his feet and takes a step back, careful and considered.

You take a deep breath and unlock the door. You don't open it. You can't bring yourself to.

Santiago does. He turns the handle gently and pulls it towards him, stood still in his place. He doesn't come in. He wants to hear you say it first.

You finally look at him, and you regret it instantly.

He looks good. So good. His hair has grown out longer than the last time you saw him, light stubble dusting his face. He's got more grays coming in, salt and pepper scattered amongst the darkness. The sun has kissed his skin on all of his missions abroad, making him glow. He looks delectable.

"Cariño," he breathes. "Fuck. You're so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember."

A tear drips down your cheek, soaking into the material of your shirt. He sounds so sincere. He is so sincere. You know he thinks the world of you. It's so painful.

This is the way it always goes.

He takes a step towards you, and you suddenly find you can't move. The rational part of your brain is telling you to get back, to put as much distance between you as possible. But you don't. You stay exactly where you are, allowing him to invade your space.

Santiago leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, large, calloused hands cradling your face tenderly.

"I missed you," he breathes, and you can taste the mint on his tongue. He's chewed this one type of gum since you've known him. He always tastes the same.

"You're gonna leave again," you whisper. "You come here, you fuck me up, and then you leave. I'm not doing it again, Santiago. I can't."

"I'm sorry, hermosa. So fucking sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" you cry. "I try to move on every fucking time, Santi. And then you crawl back into my life and I let you! I let you! I always say it's gonna be the last time, and it never is. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? I feel like a fool, Santi. A fucking fool!"

Silence.

"Santi," he repeats slowly.

You look at him incredulously, and then scoff in disbelief.

"What?"

"You called me Santi, not Santiago. Like the old days."

You didn't even realise you'd done it. It just feels so easy, to fall back into old habits. It's programmed into you, a part of your DNA now. He's your Santi and you're his baby and you'll break each others hearts a million times and keep on going.

This is the way it always goes.

He reaches back and shuts the door behind him. He's staying. For now. You look at him with teary eyes, bottom lip trembling.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," you jab shakily.

"Is that what I am to you, hermosa? An old habit?"

You inhale sharply.

"You're a hell of a lot of fucking things to me, Santi."

You want to step back. You want to push him away and throw him out the door. You want to hit him, scratch at him, punch him in his stupid, gorgeous face. But you don't. Instead, you step forward - straight into his outstretched arms.

You press yourself into him, tucking yourself into his broad chest. He wraps his arms around you as tightly as he possibly can, terrified that you'll disappear any second. You both exhale the past, and inhale the present.

"If you hurt me again, I'll kill you," you threaten, muffled by the cotton of his t shirt.

"I'd let you," he whispers into your hair. "I'd die a happy man if I was to die at your hands."

He always does this. Knows exactly what to say. Promises he won't leave. Then, inevitably, he gets a call, asking him to fly out to Colombia, Kenya, Alaska. And he goes. Without a second thought for you, he goes.

You've lost count of how many times it has happened. You're getting a horrible feeling of déjà vu. But you just can't bring yourself to break free from this hold he has on you. Not when he's rocking you gently, murmuring how you're his whole world, how he has nothing if he doesn't have you, how this time he'll be different.

You're not sure if you believe him. But you're sick of arguing with yourself and you're sick of pulling teeth. He'll break your heart again. Maybe you're immune to it now. There's only one way to find out.

"Make me forget," you whisper. "Make me forget all the shitty things you've done to me. Make me forget my own fucking name, Santi. Please."

He pulls back to look at you, to see if you mean it. You do. You're tired of fighting this. Of fighting the inevitable.

Santiago lunges forward and smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans when he realises you taste the same. You chew that gum just for him.

He hooks his foot around your ankle and yanks, sending you flying backwards. Santi's got his arms firmly around your back, cushioning your fall. As soon as you hit the floor, he's on you. His lips are pressing into your neck, down your jaw, nipping at your ears. His hands are groping at you roughly - your hips, your tits, your ass. Anything he can grab, he does.

Santiago stops momentarily to look at you intently. He dips his head down and licks up your cheek before kissing your eyelids tenderly. You taste like salty tears and years of regret.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and pull as hard as you can, hoping to hurt him. He groans in pain, and a sick sense of satisfaction settles in your stomach. You want to hurt him. You want to hurt him like he hurts you.

You lean up and sink your teeth into the expanse of his neck, tasting the musky masculinity of him. He groans again, and you feel lightheaded, drunk off the sound.

"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips in between kisses. "Fuck you, Santiago Garcia."

"I love you," he whispers back against your mouth. "I'll love you forever."

You don't know whether you love him or hate him or neither or both and it's making you crazy. You knee him in the ribs and he folds forward, his weight dropping onto you. You want to feel every inch of him against you, every dip and curve and rough edge he has to offer.

You're ripping his shirt over his head before you can think twice. He's managed to pull your pants down your legs, throwing them behind him. He tugs at your shirt, gets frustrated, and rips it down the middle.

"Fucking asshole," you spit, sinking your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

"You don't care," he drawls. "You love me and you don't care."

You grab at his belt, making sure it hits him in his side as you pull it through its loops. When he hisses in pain, you hit him with it again, this time on the ass.

"You wanna hurt me, hermosa, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you grit through your teeth, trying not to cry. "I want to do more than hurt you, Santi. I'd kill you if I could."

He kisses your neck so tenderly in response that you shake with rage. You keep trying to tell yourself that you don't want him, that you're better than this. It's no use. No one else in the world can make you feel the way Santiago can. You're cursed.

He's slipping your underwear down your legs and two fingers into the wet heat between your thighs before you can even think a coherent thought. You whine in response, canting your hips for more.

"You can lie to me all you want, honey. You can fight this all you need to," he murmurs, crooking his fingers. "But your body is giving you away. It always gives you away."

"I said make me forget, not remind me even more," you hiss.

He presses his thumb to your clit in response, the action making your legs go weak. You stop fighting him. Eventually, you always do. You surrender to Santiago, and go boneless on the floor.

"There we go," he coos. "You always give in, baby. That's how I know you love me."

You shake your head, tears welling on your waterline, saturating your eyelashes and making it hard to see.

"You do, baby. You do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

He speeds up his fingers, and it feels so good you see stars. Santiago leans down to kiss the spot underneath your ear, the one that makes you melt.

"Tell me the truth, my sweet girl. Please," he rasps against your skin. "Tell me you love me. Don't lie to me."

You're trying to clamp your mouth shut to stop the words escaping. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to slip free. To make the pain go away.

"Please," he begs. "Please, baby."

He hooks his fingers just right, and your vision goes white. You're thrown into your climax with no warning.

"I love you," you gasp as you come. "I love you, Santi. Fuck."

You come down from your high, chest heaving, sweat dripping down your skin. You look up at Santi, and watch as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"I knew you did," he chokes out. "I knew I wasn't crazy. Fuck, I love you so much. I'll never let you go again."

He smashes his lips to yours, both of your cheeks wet with emotion, slipping against each other.

"I still hate you," you spit into his mouth.

"I know," he soothes back, running his tongue over your teeth. "I know."

This is the way it always goes.

Santi lines himself up between your legs, sliding home with a gasp. This is where he belongs. Home.

You throw your arms around his neck, trying to plaster yourself to his front. He rocks his hips steadily, sending you both sliding across the floor.

This is the way it always goes.

The two of you never make it past the hallway. Whenever Santiago comes back to you, it always ends with the two of you tangled together on the floor, limbs intertwined and bodies connected. You once tried to move the two of you to the couch, but Santi fucked you so hard you slid off the cushions anyway.

Much like he's doing now.

He snaps his pelvis into yours, the force of it making you keen. You're gasping into each others mouths, hands grappling at whatever you can find. His grip on your hips is so tight, you know you'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Tell me you're mine," Santiago rasps into your mouth. "Please, baby. Please. Tell me you're mine."

You're so close you can taste it. As much as you don't want to admit it, the key to your release is those two words. You need to let go in more ways than one. You need to let go of the pain, the resentment, the regret, the false hope. You need to let go of everything, and surrender to the truth.

"I'm yours," you sob, tears running down your cheeks. "I'm yours, Santi. I always have been."

"You're mine," he confirms, pressing kisses all over your face. "And I'm yours, baby. I'm yours forever."

That's all you needed.

The two of you fall over the edge together, chests heaving and hips stuttering. You reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to your mouth. You're gasping against his lips as he chants sweet nothings against yours, the two of you panting and writhing.

Santiago collapses against you, his body acting as a weighted blanket. You wrap your arms around him, tracing absent minded patterns across his sweat slick skin. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, pressing occasional kisses wherever he can reach.

"I meant what I said," you murmur into his hair. "If you hurt me again, I'll kill you. I know at least three people that'd help me cover it up."

"Are those people Benny, Frankie and Will?"

"No comment."

He chuckles lowly, moving to press his forehead against yours.

"And I meant what I said. I'm yours. I'm yours forever."

This is the way it always goes.

[ariiluvsyou]

scenario where shinsou and reader (fem) were having "fun" then they got caught by aizawa 🤭 [u dont have to write this lol!!] - v

Authors Note: Hello V!! Omg, thank you for using a sign off your the first person to do that I really hope I see you regularly! Oh! And please feel free to use emoji sign off if you’d like too, ＼(≧▽≦)／

OFC I’D WRITE THIS FOR YOU! I made it into more of a short fic bc like you said its like a scenario but hope you like it my friend! Also thank you for requesting Shinso, I LOVE Bakugo but I felt kinda bad for him being the only one in my MHA/BNHA masterlist

|♡| Red Handed |♡|

Shinso Hitoshi x F!Reader

Description: After a very tiresome meeting with Aizawa, your pro hero boyfriend decided you were the perfect candidate to let off some steam. Not only was he enjoying himself, but he was also getting some much needed revenge by fucking over his mentor’s desk. Too bad Aizawa decided to enter his office at the wrong time. 

Rating: Smut

Disclaimer: Spanking, Light Choking, Exhibitionism,  Degration + Praise, Dirty Talk, Vaginal Sex, Getting Caught Doin The Nasty, Angry Sex

Word Count: 1222

 Links:  Masterlist,  Ask Me Anything, Tag List

“Fucking slut,” Shinso growled out, his thrusts slapping hard against your ass with every syllable. He was pissed, since becoming a pro hero Aizawa had managed to be up his ass about every mistake for the past month, and it seemed today was the last straw for your boyfriend. 

This is what caused your current position, bent over his boss's desk, clothes haphazardly pulled down just enough so he had access to your aching cunt.  You whimpered, pushing your ass to meet his leaking cockhead halfway, scratching at the dark oak desk from the ecstasy Shinso provoked. 

"Toshi!" You cried when he hit a sensitive spot on your spongey walls, your pussy fluttering around him in a way that made his hips stutter before quickly working back into his rough pace. 

Shinso's hands moved from his place on your back to trail up your sides, making sure to give your breasts a sharp squeeze,  before placing two of his fingers on your pouty red lips. "Open," he commanded, a slight pant in his voice.

You whined once more but decided to obey since he already wasn't in the best of moods. You parted your lips, making sure to swipe your tongue along his fingers as two of his pale appendages into your mouth. 

"Suck 'em, you know what I like," your boyfriend used his other hand to slap your ass, creating another red mark on top of the many finger-print-sized bruises you adorned. Quickly you got to work, swirling your tongue and moaning around his digits. 

"Damn, had to shut you up with my fingers so we don't get caught," he laughed mockingly, although he himself was in no better shape than you. His usually flared-out purple hair was now starting to droop, sweat beading at his forehead as he stared at you with half-lidded eyes and the most adorable scrunch to his eyebrows as he focused on pushing himself as deep as possible in you. Fuck, why did he have to be so pretty?

You couldn't take it anymore, the way his dick stretched you out so deliciously, the way he moaned and grunted, the way he had a tight grip on your ass and tongue. "Toshi, Hitowshi bwaby, so gwood," you moaned, voice muffled by his fingers which were now stroking your tongue, thumb rubbing your cheek from the outside. 

Shinso pulls out of your warm heat till only the tip was left, laughing at the way you cried out. You attempted to rub yourself on him, searching for any type of friction but Shinso was quick to push on your back, your breasts smashing against some very important documents Aizawa had. 

"Look at you wiggle," he teased, watching at your cute little hole squeezed around nothing. "So fucking dirty, crying for my cock on my boss's desk," he paused to moan when you squeezed your cunt around his sensitive cockhead. His hand reached down to spread your lips, watching as he slammed his full length into you. 

"Hitoshi!" You screamed, voice not coming clear since his hand abandoned your drooling mouth and moved to grip on your neck. He squeezed gently, providing a delicious pressure on your throat as he fucked you silly, thrusts so hard they caused ripples on your ass. 

"Mmph, baby fuck! So fucking cute, do whatever I ask huh?" Shinso asked, spanking you once more. Your eyes closed as you let your tongue hand out of your mouth, completely drunk off the feeling your boyfriend provided you. 

"Yeah, that's it, think you deserve a little reward," his hand reached down to rub your clit, messaging small circles in a way that had your toes curling. "Go ahead and cum baby, cum all over his desk. 

There was just something so overwhelmingly hot about fucking on Aizawa's desk, the risk of being caught, the anger behind your boyfriend's movements, how Shinso mixed his degrading with sweet praises, so filthy to the point you couldn't keep quiet anymore despite your weak attempts. Shinso just felt too good, his long fingers lingering on your neck, your ass burning from his heavy hands, him toying with your clit, and of course, his large cock rubbing your sensitive walls in a way only he could.  Within seconds the combination of these aspects had you creaming around Shinso's dick. 

"C-Cumming! 'm cumming, Hitoshi please!" You begged, legs shaking from the intense feeling, surely you would have fallen if it wasn't for the desk beneath you. Your hands reached out to claw at whatever you could, knocking down some items in the process. "Toshi, please cum, wanna feel you so bad." Drool dribbles down your cheek you lean your head down onto the cool surface beneath you, withering in this intense feeling. 

"Fuck, fuck! Why do you have to be so fucking tight—fuck hahh!" Shinso had let go of his grip on your neck and clit, leaving red marks from where his hands had previously been, and used both his hands to grab your waist, pulling you to meet his heavy thrusts.

By now your pussy was sopping wet, a thick creamy ring forming around the base of hm and dripping to his balls. Your pussy fluttered around him, squeezing him tightly almost making it hard to pull out. You always milked him so fucking good. 

"Shit, why do you have to be like this? My perfect slut."

Shinso panted when he finally pumped one final time, reveling in the wet slapping sound that came from it before emptying his balls in your cavern. Even while he was cumming his thrusts never stopped, although now softer and more sparatic. In the end, you two were a mess, Shinso leaving over your body basking in the afterglow. 

It felt so nice, feeling his cum slosh around inside you, his hands petting your head and allowing you to catch your breath. While Shinso could be rough he never failed to treat you like a princess after, you knew when you got home you would be showered in praises, kisses, and massages. 

"You okay honey?" He rasped, humping you against the desk. Your cunt couldn't help but flutter around him despite being exhausted. You turned your head to meet his tired eyes, watching as his once angry face from earlier melted into a pretty smile. 

"'m okay, but what about you baby? You feel better from earlier?" He chuckled at your response, always so attentive was his girlfriend. With a grin plastered on his lips, he placed gentle kisses on your back, his thurst finally halting as he pulled his head back to watch his cum leak out of you and back onto his cock. 

"I'm fucking fantastic."

The intimate moment was halted by loud commotion coming from outside the office, angry stomps trailing down the hallway to the front of the door. 

"They fucking did it again! I swear to god these kids will kill me, they destroyed so much fucking property! In fucking ruins!" The voice of Aizawa growled out, most likely screaming at his assistant before slamming his office door open. 

Shinso was fast to react, quickly pulling out of your warm heat with a hiss before scrambling to pull his pants up and using his body to hide your naked body from the very angry pro hero. 

"Oh my fucking god!" If Shinso thought Aizawa was annoying before, he was in for a real treat. 

Authors Note: OKAY OKAY YOU CAN IMAGINE THE REST! I think Shinso would attempt to use his quirk to make Aizawa forget this whole fiasco but idk if he’s quick enough (⁄ ⁄>⁄ ▽ ⁄<⁄ ⁄) Also sorry this is shorter than usual! But I hope you enjoyed anyways <33 Please leave a comment, lemme know what you think! Don’t forget to check out my other works, and requests are currently open!! BYE BYE (ノ*°▽°*)

Links: Masterlist,  Ask Me Anything, Tag List 

Tag List: @katscki​, @libidinous-weeb

[angellayercake]

Ghost Fandom Fic Recs

This is such a great idea @ghuleh-recs thank you so much tagging me in yours and saying such lovely things about Banchetto!

I must say this is by no means an exhaustive list of the writers I admire but on digging through my tags and my AO3 bookmarks these are the ones that had my giggling and kicking my feet all over again

And this is getting really long so I'm am going to try to limit myself to one fic per amazing person 💜 haha I failed so hard at that you are all too talented.

@ghostchems I actually gobble up everything chems writes like a greedy little gremlin and I love her OCs as much as I love the Papas. But as I recently admitted I have been fangirling about her since before I was lucky enough to be her friend so Black Light Guides You is my go to for many reasons. It's got the signature horny/horror Chems blend as well as our boy getting resurrected and taking back his rightful position. I love how Terzo and Marion's relationship develops and I am so excited about where they are headed in the ongoing sequel A Perpetual Rise. And then Burn with me!!!! I came for Dracopia and stayed for Mia.

@ramblingoak The Queen of AUs if you want a Papa in any kind of situation Oak is the person you need. If I start talking about The Cardinal's Bride I will actually never shut up and Oak suffers enough word vomit about it from me so I will stop there. But I will say Oak is an incredible all rounder. Every thing she writes it is great and there is something fantastic for everyone. Sexy Cardinals, Mary Goore, Vibrating Pants, Ghaseball, Rat Birthday Parties or Zombies have at it!!

@the-hole-in-terzos-shoe No matter what the scenario Shoe writes the most romantic, charming Terzo you will ever read. I was going to rec the incredible My Dirty Little Secret and Let's get these heels off... which was inspired by our mutual love of Vita deVoid's Terzo but then she dropped Intro to Romantic Literature yesterday and I haven't been able to stop thinking about Professor Terzo so just go read both.

@sucharide If you want to read about some of the darkest depravity written in the most beautiful poetic way you could ever imagine then Roach is the writer for you and A Problem of Mind and Body is the perfect example. But my personal favourite and the first I read I think is Ritual and Ruination a silly and sexy look at the consequences of rituals gone wrong. And who am I kidding I can't not put Poor Beast in the Catacombs on here.

@zombiequeenblog I tell everyone who will listen to me about Cardinal Copia: A Sadistic and Glorious Bastard. It was my first Dark Copia fic and still to this day my favourite Copia characterisation. He is such a well rounded full character in this and I can't get enough. It's hot, it's emotional, it's scary at times but I can count on my hand how many couples I am as invested in and these two are at the top of my list. The world building is incredible, this version of The Abbey is so vibrant and all the side characters are so fleshed out. I have an especially large soft spot for Terzo in this fic he is the perfect dramatic flirt and I would give anything to be one of his girls.

@honeyynymphh Reading anything by Missy is like reading a gothic horror classic. The way she builds atmosphere is second to none a little nightmarish, a little maudlin (good golly go get this kid some laudanum!) is such a great example. And another one of my favourite Copia characterizations especially in The Mark of the Beast, Freshly Squeezed and my personal favourite there’s total depravity (standing right in front of me) he is so mean and I love it so much.

@kissingghouls SUCK CLUB!! I can't possibly decide which one of these is my favourite. I love this whole universe. There is so much going on and I can't wait to get to the bottom of the ongoing vampire mystery. I love how they all interact and I love that the all read The Cardinal's Bride! The Count, The King, and The Prince and I just love them all!

@xfilesinamajor With Wandering Steps and Slow This Terzo!!! This one right here is my favourite, god this fic breaks my heart but it is so so so perfect. His self esteem, his natural charm as a defense mechanism god I am obsessed with it. Also The Peach is one of the hottest ghost fics I have ever read. The ghoullettes really need to get more action, especially if it's like this

@writingjourney Everything Ibi writes is just so perfect. The slow burn of Honey and Venom and Unprecedented have me on the edge of my seat. But I have to especially urge everyone to read Friday Nights at the Cinema Club because if you aren't a Primo fan you are wrong and this will show you exactly why. Like I said, perfect!

@sweatandwoe I am always impressed with the ideas that sweaty comes up with. Really fun and original and hot. These assorted drabbles and headcanons are an excellent place to start. Study Break is so incredibly hot and The Sacrifice was a real highlight from petrifying papas. I also can't rec sweaty without mentioning the Saren fics because WOW. If you have any interest in Mass Effect and Turians then you have to read Overflow and Melting Point

@inkstainedrat Lacrimis et Memorias This fic broke my heart and put it back together again. It is the definition of bittersweet and yeah. I have a lot of feelings about Terzo and this story pokes every single one of them and is another one that stays with me.

@violet-lazer Another one of my favourite Terzo writers, in Pride, Incumbent and Astronomy he is so charming and lovely. Also Terms of Engagement Copia is such a cutie

@whatawonderfulexistence--blog Distractions is a lovely first date with Terzo and then Strawberries because i do love when he is being all seductive. Also I'm not fully caught up with Powerwolf yet but Atone was so HOT

@hallowed-be-thy-username Kissing the Obscene was the Terzo fic I ever read and Please Papa was the second and I just keep going back to them. I had started to fall in love with Terzo already but reading these and all the others really sealed the deal. And also coincidentally one of my favourite papa cosplayers!!

[stevetonyweekly]

SteveTony Weekly - Jan 7th - Week 1

It’s the first SteveTony Weekly of the year!! This year, I’m gonna try to personalize the recs, and pick a favorite of the week. We’ll see how long I keep that up. As always, be sure to leave a comment/kudos if you enjoyed the fic! 

~*~ 

peace bought with blood and magic by Areiton

There is a legend, older than the Citadel, about the field.

About the king who had ruled for as long as the Thousand Year War had raged. There is a legend about the king and about the one he loved, and it goes--

Note: i had so much fun with this fic, and it left me wanting to write a long version of this as an original project. 

[PODFIC] Maybe this Time by MsErmestH by Pywren

Tony’s better now. You can even say he’s superior. But all the money, alcohol, and sex can’t stop the incursions, and when his world is destroyed, he ends up on an earth ten years younger than his own.

One where Steve goes by the name of Nomad.

If there’s one thing Steve’s good at, it’s reminding him of what really matters, and maybe that makes Nomad the person Tony needs if he's going to save the universe.

Note: the way that Tony slowly begins to feel again and the way he loves Steve is everything to me. I love it. 

Love among the Hydrothermal Vents by DevilDoll

In which Namor has a thing for Steve, an octopus has a thing for Tony, and Steve and Tony eventually have a thing for each other.

Note: I’ve read this before and it’s just as amazing as the first time. Fake dating, pining, Namor in all his…Namor-ness. And the amorous octopus!!! What’s not to love. 

may the angels bow down for you by Anonymous 

He hides.

When the Demon gets loud, when He drinks His poison and tries to hurt him with His palm, or His words, or His power—he hides.

Burgundy. Oak. Shattered glass.

Note: Interesting format for this story. Interspersed with the descriptors, it gave the story a disjointed and urgent air that really worked. 

Working Late by Anonymous 

Some nights, Tony stays up late, building and rebuilding and upgrading his suits, until Steve walks into the workshop, usually already in his pajamas, and wraps his arms around Tony, kissing him until he forgets what he was doing and then dragging him to bed.

A fill for the prompt "Steve sits in Tony's lap and rides him" from last year's Community Gifts prompt list. Because there's really not enough bottom!Steve in the world.

Note: Some very lovely smut. 

The first time I met you (I already had a drawing of you) by Anonymous 

Kissing Tony was a bit like sparing, pushing and pulling and stumbling against furniture. He had no idea why a billionaire cared enough to be this strong, and it was hard to keep in mind he had to pull back his own strength.

or

Tony meets a cute artist in at a Gala event, Steve tries to get over Iron Man, and Bucky just enjoys watching his best friend be a little stupid sometimes.

Note: I love identity porn. It’s one of my favorite things in the fandom. This was a tiny slice of perfection. 

Softer Landing by Anonymous

In which there is a snowstorm, Tony has had a terrible week and Steve might be an idiot.

Note: Miscommunication and reconciliation and snowstorms. Lovely. 

****Exact Measurements Required by trilliath 

That time S.H.I.E.L.D. quartermasters accidentally put Steve's balls in a vise and it goes exactly as well as you'd expect it to. Tony promptly offers to help. Because he's helpful like that. Obviously.

Note: What I especially loved about this was Steve’s humanity and the way Tony was obsessed with him and it took him FOREVER to figure out how serious Tony actually was. 

Father and Son by Anonymous

Peter should have seen it coming.

All hell breaks loose when his secret identity as Spider-Man is revealed. His parents take the news about as well as you'd imagine, and it escalates all too quickly.

But his family wouldn't be his family if they didn't work through it.

Together.

Note: I love Superfamily dynamics, especially when it focuses on Tony and Peter, as this one does. 

opera interlude by starvels (dinosaur) 

They spend their days tumbling through space, hoping they're aiming in the right direction, ignoring the way the ship whispers, waving its shadows at them.

Note: My only thought about this is that it was too short. I loved it and wanted to read so much more. It was lovely. 

The Nearness of You by UisceOneLove 

Steve wasn't thinking when he protected Tony's protege and got a bullet for the move. He doesn't know what to think of Tony Stark showing up at his apartment, either.

Note: I loved this. It was short and sweet but the worldbuilding packed into that short little window was flawless. 

****All We Do by Anonymous 

Tony doesn't mean for anyone to find those recordings. Steve doesn't mean to see them. Between the two of them, there were never the right words spoken, so this just might be a blessing in disguise.

Note: This Endgame fic is so bittersweet and lovely. I loved everything about it. 

Crooner by wirewrappedlily 

There are songs to sing; there are feelings to feel; there are thoughts to think. That makes three things: You can't do three things at the same time.

Singing is easy: shiver off the tongue.

Thinking comes with the tune.

That leaves feeling. And you're not going to catch him feeling.

Tony Stark had a great voice. He had a magical voice, even. But he didn't have the presence for it. Didn't have the pizzazz to make it in the '20s roar.

Note: Early 1900s, with a little bit of Phantom of the Opera vibes, it was super sweet to see Tony & Steve coming together. 

like stepping on the sun by Red (S_Hylor), starksnack

When the Sorcerer Supreme asks the Avengers to go investigate a potential multiverse incursion, Tony is less than impressed. The weather is foul, and it's not even a Tuesday.

The multiverse portal, when it does occur, seems to be a bit of a fizzer, so Tony isn't expecting anything to happen.

He certainly isn't expecting an oversized fuzzy jellybean to come and meddle in his personal life.

Note: tsumtsums are often really hard to take seriously but I LOVE crack treated seriously, and it was handled perfectly! 

don't let the blue sky fade by Myrime 

It was supposed to be a mission without surprises, but then a building collapses on top of them and traps them underground.

Tony is hurt but doesn't tell anyone. Steve just wants Tony to give a damn for once. And Clint, who cannot run away from their bickering since he broke his leg, just hopes they do not kill each other before they get him out of there.

(- Since the End is almost upon us, why not return to the beginning of the Avengers, when everything was still mostly beautiful and they haven't yet hurt each other so much. Simpler times!)

Note: This was fantastic team dynamics--the relationship between Tony and Clint was especially fantastic--with a slow build Stevetony that I adored. Excellent 2012 team fic. Highly recommend. 

[redginganinja]

Nozel x Reader

Hey all.... Slowly trying to get back into writing and adding some fandoms to the list. One I'm into right now is Black Clover....

Anyways, here's a somewhat self indulgent fic for Nozel Silva x female reader.

Prologue

Y/N POV

Hissing in anger, I slammed my fist into the door, the solid oak absorbing the impact with a dull thud. Its imposing presence loomed tall as the ceiling, a formidable barrier that seemed to mock my attempts to escape. Locked tightly, it denied me even a glimpse of freedom, leaving me feeling claustrophobic and trapped within its unforgiving embrace.

“Ahem…” a voice cleared their throat behind me, breaking the suffocating silence.

I groaned, the frustration evident in my tone. “What?” I snapped without turning around, my fist still pressed against the unyielding door.

“We really should get started…” a male voice began, his words carrying a sense of urgency. “Your father instructed me to prepare you for the arrival of the King, and the rest of the royals.”

"What’s to prepare?" I asked the tutor sarcastically, finally turning around to face him, my gaze sharp and unrelenting. "Smile, say pleasant things - I can manage…"

He scoffed dismissively, his demeanor brimming with conviction. “There is far more to it than that, my lady. They will be here in the morning, and you are woefully underprepared.”

I regarded him with thinly veiled disinterest, my patience wearing thin. “Locking me in here with you will not convince me to listen. In fact…” A mischievous grin danced upon my lips as I extended my hand, conjuring a surge of magic that crackled with energy, freezing him to the floor where he stood. “You can stay here, but I have plans…”

“You cannot! I - “

I cut off his protests with a smirk, reveling in the control I held over the situation. “Do I need to freeze your mouth as well?” I taunted, relishing in the power coursing through my veins.

He clamped his mouth shut, his eyes wide with apprehension, and I couldn't help but smile. “Thank you. I’m leaving - you will not scream for help, or there will be hell to pay later. I will be back tonight…”

“Your father..” he began, his voice meek.

“ - I do not care what my father says. You will keep quiet if you know what’s good for you.” I hissed, my tone leaving no room for argument as I gathered my belongings with purpose.

Ignoring his wary gaze, I swiftly collected my things, tossing a bag out the window in a calculated act of defiance. I strode behind the privacy screen, shedding the confines of my formal attire with a sense of liberation, exchanging them for the simple garments of a commoner - pants and a casual tunic that offered freedom of movement and anonymity in equal measure.

Emerging from behind the screen, I met his gaze head-on, my expression unyielding. “You will keep quiet until you see the sun rising on the horizon. If I’m not home by then, you may worry, and send someone after me. Understood?” I demanded, my words laced with an unmistakable air of command.

He gulped audibly, his compliance evident in the nod of his head, and I accepted it without hesitation, knowing that my departure would not go unnoticed for long.

With purposeful strides, I made my way to the window, summoning a gust of wind to carry me down to the awaiting bag below. The descent was swifter than I intended, and I landed with a huff, the impact driving the breath from my lungs as I dusted myself off.

Draping a cloak around my shoulders, I pulled the hood low over my features, concealing my identity from prying eyes as I ventured into the bustling streets below. The town was alive with activity, preparations for the royal visit evident in every corner as people scurried about, consumed by the chaos of anticipation.

Navigating the labyrinthine streets with practiced ease, I blended seamlessly into the throng of commoners, my stolen cloak affording me the anonymity I sought. With each step, I felt the weight of expectation slip away, replaced by a sense of freedom and possibility that beckoned me forward into the unknown.

As I made my way through the streets, my senses were inundated with the vibrant spectacle of the town adorned in honor of the impending royal visit. Streamers danced in the breeze, and colorful signs adorned every corner, announcing the forthcoming festivities to all who passed by. The air buzzed with an electric energy as people hurried about, their frenzied movements a testament to the meticulous preparations underway - food stalls being erected, clothing stalls bustling with activity, and vendors hawking their wares in anticipation of the influx of visitors. It was a scene of organized chaos, a symphony of sights and sounds that enveloped me as I navigated through the throngs of people.

Despite the lively atmosphere, I found myself indifferent to the spectacle unfolding around me. The prospect of countless eyes upon me filled me with a sense of unease, a blush creeping to my cheeks at the mere thought of so many individuals recognizing me. With a resigned sigh, I pressed forward, my destination beckoning me with the promise of familiarity and solace amidst the chaos of the town.

Pushing open the creaking wooden door, I was immediately greeted by the clamor of the bustling tavern - rowdy men engaged in spirited conversation, tankards of ale clashing against worn wooden tables in raucous celebration. A nostalgic smile tugged at my lips at the familiar sounds, a sense of belonging washing over me as I stepped into the warmth of the bustling establishment.

“Oi, girl! Where ya been?” A booming voice called out, cutting through the din of the tavern.

I chuckled in response, the affectionate banter of the patrons a welcome embrace. “I missed you too, Mort. How’ve you been?”

“Busy,” Mort grumbled, his weathered features creased in a bemused smile. “And the new girl is flailing…” He trailed off, nodding towards a young blonde woman struggling to navigate the crowded tavern with a tray of drinks in hand.

I grinned knowingly, my years of experience in this tavern lending me a sense of confidence in the chaotic environment. “Good thing I showed up when I did. Hand me a tray,” I replied, my tone laced with playful determination.

Mort chuckled heartily, his eyes twinkling with amusement as he passed me a serving tray. “I’ll pay you in beer,” he quipped, the familiar exchange eliciting a fond smile from me.

“Perfect,” I winked, accepting the tray with a grateful nod before making my way towards the beleaguered new waitress.

“Hey new girl, I’m here to help out. I’ll take some of the bigger tables - take a load off your shoulders,” I offered with a warm smile, extending a gesture of camaraderie to the overwhelmed young woman.

Her expression softened with relief, gratitude shining in her eyes as she accepted my assistance. “Thank you,” she replied earnestly, her voice tinged with uncertainty.

“Just you wait - it gets a lot worse…” I reassured her with a laugh, offering a comforting pat on the shoulder. “But I’ve been slinging drinks for years, so I’ve got you covered.”

With a grateful nod, she turned her attention back to her duties, and I set off to tend to the needs of the tavern patrons. Moving from table to table, I greeted each patron with a warm smile, my focus solely on the task at hand as I navigated the bustling tavern with practiced ease. There was no time for pleasantries - the tavern was too slammed for such niceties - but with each drink served and each smile exchanged, I found myself slipping effortlessly into the rhythm of the familiar chaos, the promise of camaraderie and laughter guiding me through the bustling evening ahead.

A small group of imposing figures caught my eye, their attire betraying their status as magic knights - their robes, tattered and worn, spoke volumes of the battles they had faced and the challenges they had overcome. Despite my unease at their presence, I plastered on a smile, reminding myself of the reward awaiting me at the end of the night - cold, refreshing mugs of beer.

“What can I get for y’all?” I asked with forced cheerfulness, dispelling any notion of pleasantries in the face of the bustling tavern.

A large, dark-haired man in a tattered black robe grinned mischievously at me, his eyes alight with amusement. “Lots of beer, girl,” he teased, his words laced with playful banter.

I nodded in response, turning my attention to the thin man clad in a green robe beside him. “More beer than him…” he hissed, his demeanor sending a shiver down my spine. There was something unnerving about him, a sense of darkness that lingered in the air.

Next, I addressed the man in the crimson robe, his red hair framing a polite smile. “Just a beer, please,” he requested politely, his demeanor a stark contrast to the others at the table.

The man in the golden robe, his face concealed behind a mask, nodded in agreement, his silent acquiescence adding an air of mystery to his presence. Finally, I turned to the man in the blue robe, a braid of silver hair obscuring his features. “Water,” he spoke plainly, his voice devoid of emotion.

Suppressing a look at the odd request, I nodded in acknowledgment. “Very well… I’ll be back with your drinks shortly,” I informed them, turning on my heel and making my way behind the bar to fulfill their orders.

With practiced efficiency, I filled as many steins of beer as I could carry, balancing the water on top with ease. Returning to the table, I distributed the drinks with a sense of satisfaction, placing the water in front of the silver-haired man with an amused twinkle in my eye before handing out the beers to the others. “Just holler if you need something else,” I offered with a smile, my tone friendly yet professional.

Turning my attention back to the bustling tavern, I threw myself into the rhythm of the evening, serving patrons with renewed vigor as the night grew busier and busier. With each drink poured and each table served, I found myself growing progressively friendlier, my interactions with the patrons becoming more lighthearted and jovial as I indulged in chugs of beer between rounds.

Teasing and joking with those I served became second nature, my laughter mingling with the lively ambiance of the tavern as I navigated the bustling crowd with ease. However, when it came to the magic knights, I maintained a respectful distance, interacting with them only when necessary - which, given the drinking competition between the big man and the skinny man, was more frequent than I had anticipated.

I was startled from my serving flow when I heard a loud crash!, and the sounds of the tavern were abruptly silenced by the sudden disruption. All eyes turned towards the source of the commotion, which emanated from the new girl. She stood frozen, a tray of drinks scattered at her feet, her expression a mixture of shock and fear as she struggled against the grasp of a particularly loathsome patron who had seized her, pulling her forcefully into his lap as his hands traveled across her person.

My gaze narrowed at him, fury igniting within me at the sight of his brazen actions. This was not the first time I had warned this troublemaker about his behavior, yet he persisted in his despicable antics, seemingly emboldened with each transgression. Without hesitation, I seized a knife from the bar, my resolve solidifying as I stalked towards the table with determined purpose.

The girl caught sight of me and scrambled away from her assailant, who sat smugly, oblivious to the storm brewing around him as he laughed and took another swig of his beer. My anger surged, my mana pulsating with unrestrained power as I swiftly drove the knife into the table, the blade embedding itself next to his hand with a satisfying thud, drawing a sliver of his blood in its wake.

He turned to snarl at me, his bravado faltering as he registered my presence, his face draining of color with dawning recognition.

Snarling back, my voice unnervingly calm despite the tempest raging within me, I addressed him with chilling precision. “Elaric - I thought I made it abundantly clear that your presence wasn’t welcome here…” I sneered, my words carrying a weight of authority that brooked no argument.

His eyes widened with nervous apprehension. “I hadn’t seen you around lately…” he stammered, his feeble attempt at justification falling on deaf ears.

Glaring icily at him, I continued, my tone laced with thinly veiled menace. “Even so - you shouldn’t be here. You have ten seconds to vacate these premises before you lose that hand,” I declared, my voice a lethal whisper that echoed with the promise of consequences.

With a sense of urgency, he scrambled out of his chair, his bravado evaporating in the face of my unwavering resolve. “You’ll regret this,” he hissed, venom dripping from his words, but I merely laughed in response.

“My only regret is not doing this sooner,” I retorted, my gaze unwavering as I watched him slink towards the door, a defeated shadow of his former self.

Turning my attention to the shaken barmaid, I moved to check on her well-being, aware of the watchful eyes of the tavern's patrons upon me. Sensing the tension in the air, I prepared to address the onlookers, my frustration simmering just beneath the surface.

Before I could voice my reprimand, Mort stepped forward, his authoritative voice cutting through the silence like a clarion call. “Back to your drinks, folks. Just a little pre-celebration excitement from a local troublemaker - nothing for you to concern yourselves with. Enjoy a round on the house!” he declared, his words dispelling the tension with practiced ease.

There were a few grumbles, and then the tavern resumed its lively atmosphere, the incident fading into the background as patrons returned to their revelry, the memory of the altercation quickly overshadowed by the promise of free drinks.

I smiled gratefully at Mort, a wave of gratitude washing over me as he handed me a fresh beer. “Thanks,” I murmured sincerely, feeling supported by his gesture. His pat on the back, accompanied by a knowing smile, spoke volumes, affirming that justice had been served.

Making my way over to the shaken new girl, I approached her with gentle concern, noting the tremor in her hands as she struggled to compose herself. Kneeling beside her, I reached out, brushing a stray tear from her cheek with a comforting touch. “Are you alright?” I inquired softly, my voice laced with empathy.

She looked up at me with wide eyes, her fear palpable, and I offered her reassurance in the form of a supportive arm around her trembling shoulders. “I’m sure you’re frightened - come take a minute in the back to collect yourself,” I urged gently, guiding her towards the sanctuary of the back room, my own beer in hand. Settling in beside her, I engaged her in conversation, offering words of comfort and solidarity until she seemed more at ease.

Returning to the bar, I resumed my duties with renewed determination, serving drinks and indulging in more chugs of beer as I bantered with patrons, the memory of the altercation gradually fading into the background as the night progressed.

As jests and playful banter filled the air, some patrons teased me, their words carrying a hint of caution masked in humor. I responded in kind, playfully warning them of the consequences of crossing me, my tone light-hearted despite the underlying seriousness of the sentiment.

Refilling the knights' drinks, I found them divided - two engaged in rowdy revelry while the other three conversed in hushed tones. The big man, his drunken demeanor evident, spoke up with a teasing grin. “That was quite something…” he remarked, his words tinged with amusement.

I met his gaze, amusement twinkling in my eyes as the alcohol dulled my inhibitions. “I’ve been dying to stab that creep for years,” I quipped, a playful edge to my tone. “He’s lucky I didn’t drive the knife through his hand.”

His laughter filled the air, echoing with camaraderie, while the silver-haired man interjected with a hint of disapproval. “You should leave situations like that to those who are trained to deal with such riffraff,” he remarked coolly, his tone betraying his disdain.

Unfazed by his disapproval, I chuckled, the alcohol emboldening my response. “We don’t get many knights around these parts - are you suggesting I wait on the off chance one appears?” I countered with a playful smirk, my words carrying a sense of defiance tinged with amusement.

Before he could reply, the door burst open, and two men strode into the tavern, their fine clothing and Golden Dawn robes marking them as members of high standing. A sinking feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I cursed inwardly, hoping against hope that they hadn't noticed my presence. Unfortunately, their sharp gazes locked onto me with unwavering intensity.

Summoning a hesitant smile, I braced myself for the impending confrontation as they approached.

“What do you think you’re doing?” the larger of the two men demanded, his tone laced with agitation. I glanced between him and the drink in my hand, then back to him.

“Drinking…” I muttered, my response dripping with sarcasm as if the answer were obvious.

He scowled at me, his disapproval palpable. “You’re supposed to be at home. Imagine our shock when we found your tutor, iced to the floor of the study,” he retorted pointedly, his frown deepening with each word.

A mischievous grin tugged at my lips as I shrugged nonchalantly. “A little ice never hurt anyone. I just wanted a drink before everything went to shit - care to join me, brother?” I quipped, my tone tinged with hopeful defiance.

His response was immediate and unequivocal. “No,” he stated flatly. “You’re coming home - someone could know you’re here.”

“How? I’ve been careful,” I protested defiantly, the flush of alcohol lending a boldness to my words.

His gaze bore into mine with an intensity that made my stomach churn. “We saw your mana from the road…” he informed me pointedly, the weight of his accusation landing with a crushing finality.

Oops. Busted.

As the gravity of the situation settled upon me, his attention shifted to the table where I had been serving drinks. Recognition flashed across his features, his eyes widening in realization. “Oh, Captain! I was not aware you’d be here…” he trailed off, his tone respectful as he addressed one of the men at the table.

My own eyes widened in surprise. Captain? Did that mean these were all captains…? The implications of their presence sent a shiver down my spine, the realization dawning on me that my impromptu escapade had far-reaching consequences beyond my wildest imagination.

“I apologize for my sister,” my brother addressed, his voice tinged with a mix of exasperation and amusement. “She can be a bit of a handful…” His gaze remained fixed on me, assessing and scrutinizing.

“Did you start a fight?” My younger brother chimed in, his teasing tone accompanied by a playful poke to my cheek. I swatted his hand away with a smirk. “No. I was merely looking out for a fellow worker,” I replied cheekily, a hint of defiance in my words.

He scoffed in response. “You’re no worker. Quit playing peasant and come home. You’re drunk - father will be furious.”

“Father will get over it. Mort, however, needs my help,” I countered, my steps stumbling as the effects of the alcohol began to take hold.

With a roll of his eyes, my younger brother moved swiftly, effortlessly scooping me up and slinging me over his shoulder. “This scene is your fault, sister,” he remarked with a playful grin, his tone light-hearted despite the situation.

I struggled against his grasp, though I knew it was futile. Weakened by drink and outnumbered by my brothers, I resigned myself to defeat with a huff of frustration. “Bye, Mort,” I called out sadly as I was carried away, my voice tinged with regret.

Mort's laughter followed me as I was ushered out of the tavern. “Go easy on her, boys - she means well…” his voice trailed off, the warmth of his words offering a small comfort in the midst of my predicament.

[sunoksunny]

It’s All Ending Now | N.RK

Pairing: nishimura riki x kumiho!reader (fem)

Genre: written for @svngcore​‘s ‘so ends the myth’ collab; fluff, angst, fantasy, based on a myth (kumiho)

Warnings: minor character death, blood, wounds, violence, weapons, kissing, hints at misogyny, heeseung being slightly insane, near death experiences, large timeskips

Word Count: 10k (10,883)

Synopsis: As a kumiho, it was only natural that you would kill. However, you put limits and standards on who you took the hearts off. You only messed with boys who showed blatant disrespect for the world around them and gave them what they deserved. All of them turned out to be the same in the end, they always did. But when you lock eyes with a boy through your window, you get a sense that something is different. Will this be the exception you have silently wished for? Or will both your hearts end up crushed, hopeless against the winds of fate?

Author’s Note: guys i really procrastinated this one BUT i’m actually quite happy with how it turned out. it is by far the longest fic ive written, my previous longest one was only 3k,,, so um yea i kinda had a field day. but thank you soul for hosting this collab, i had so much fun writing this even if i struggled a bit to meet the deadline due to me procrastinating (i literally had the idea for this since the beginning of the collab and only started actually writing it like a week ago HA...) i hope you all enjoy !!

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing out here in the woods?”

You turned your head towards the voice, meeting the eyes of a brunette boy hovering over you. You quickly scrambled up, dropping your hands away from the berries you had been picking. Of course, you hadn’t actually planned on picking them, but you needed something as an excuse to lead him away.

You stifled your giggle as you watched the boy stare at you in what could only be described as awe. You feigned surprise at having been seen and looked around in worry, leaning closer to call to him.

“Please don’t tell anyone, I just wanted to pick some berries as a gift for my mother. She really loves them, but she’s too sick to get them herself, so I thought I could pick some for her.” 

You took a second to admire the boy’s features. His face was gently round with small and soft features, almost delicate. His eyes were framed by long, feathery eyelashes, yet they still held a certain glint of mischief. His lips formed a natural pout, and you watched as they turned into an easy smile. 

“Don’t worry, I wouldn’t tell. I’m not really supposed to be here either, my mom says it’s too dangerous. But I want to hunt, so I snuck out.” The boy claimed proudly, his eyes crinkling a little at the corners as his smirk grew wider.

Of course, he would want to hunt. No matter how pretty a boy is, they all still want to ruin everything natural and innocent.

You gasped in mock surprise and let a small smile grace your lips. You looked over your shoulder once more before taking a step closer to him.

“What’s your name?”

“Beomgyu.” 

You smiled again and watched as he returned it effortlessly.

“Has anyone seen Beomgyu lately? We were supposed to go fishing yesterday but he never showed up.” Jake asked, poking at his lunch with his fork before looking up at the others. 

Niki and his friends were sitting where they always did, under the big oak tree near the forest, a little ways away from their village. It was their place to retreat from everyone else, a place for only them. They saw it as a much-needed break, especially since they were growing older and girls had begun to fling themselves at them more and more as their parents pushed them to find a girl and get married. Sure, the boys had never been opposed to the attention they got from the girls in the village, but Niki guessed the thought of having to settle down and marry one of them someday soon became a little too much sometimes. Luckily, Niki was the youngest of their group and his parents had not yet brought up that topic to him, so he was still free to mess around as the rest of them had done before.

“You haven’t heard, Jake?” Jungwon gasped.

Jake tilted his head, confused. 

“Heard what?”

“Beomgyu’s dead. He was killed.” Jay said. He paused for a moment before speaking again, “I heard some of the townspeople saying it was a kumiho.”

Jake’s face morphed into something similar to horror, whether at the fact his friend was dead or the prospect that a kumiho killed him, Niki wasn’t sure. In all honesty, he didn’t know how the news had managed to escape Jake. The whole town had been talking about the murder and the possibility of a kumiho for the past few days. Niki had even heard his mother talking about it, and she wasn’t even positive creatures like that existed. But after all, this was the third boy killed in the span of a month. All the boys had gone into the woods the night they disappeared, then turned up a couple of days later with their hearts missing. Many people didn’t think it was just a coincidence. 

An unsettling silence washed over the group. Heeseung frowned before his eyes lit up, an idea popping into his head.

“Hey, why don’t we go into the woods tonight as a group?”

Sunoo looked at him in shock, his mouth falling open, “Are you crazy? What if the kumiho’s real? Do you want to get killed?”

“Of course not,” Heeseung scoffed, “But if it is real, it can’t kill seven of us, right? We can just fight it off or something. And if it isn’t real, then we can put an end to all those rumors going around about it.”

Sunghoon was the first to agree, an affirming word leaving his mouth. Heeseung smiled before asking the others. One by one, they all agreed, albeit a few a bit more hesitantly. When Heeseung looked at Niki, he out a small chuckle at the younger boy’s quick agreement. All of them knew that Niki was rather dependent on them, having grown up practically attached to the rest of them at the hip. 

Finally, Heeseung turned back to Sunoo, a sly grin plastered on his lips. The two stared at each other for a few moments before Sunoo sighed, reluctantly agreeing. Heeseung let out a small cheer before clapping his hands together.

“Alright, let’s meet back here tonight at eight.”

Niki trudged towards the tree with Sunoo at his side, the rest of their friends already waiting, their figures illuminated by the lantern one of them was holding. Sunoo breathed out a sigh, and Niki tilted his head to glance at him. The boy still didn’t seem very enthusiastic about this whole ordeal. Niki couldn’t help but feel a little rustled by his friend’s uneasiness, and silently nudged Sunoo’s hand with his own. When Sunoo looked at him, Niki gave him a soft smile.

“Are you scared?” Niki questioned.

“No,” the older sighed, “I just think it’s a bit silly to be doing this.”

“Silly?” 

Sunoo stopped for a moment and met Niki’s gaze. “Don’t you? Even if there isn’t a kumiho, it’s late and we won’t be able to see well. The forest is full of wild animals and poisonous plants that we aren’t familiar with. If someone does get hurt, it’s gonna be hard to find our way out of the forest quickly and without other incidents.”

Niki stilled. In truth, he hadn’t really put much thought behind his decision. If everyone else had said yes, then he would too. Niki didn’t consider himself a follower, in fact, he was rather the opposite. But he trusted his friends and would follow them in whatever they chose. Sunoo watched Niki as he thought, before taking another breath and starting to walk towards their friends again.

“It doesn’t matter, I’m sure we’ll be fine. Besides, I'll be there to keep everyone out of trouble.” Sunoo said as he turned back to him with a light smile on his lips. Niki nodded, following the boy.

Jake was the first to notice them, calling out with a bright grin. Jay quickly quieted him, reminding him that it was in fact late at night and people might get suspicious if they heard yelling. Sunghoon joined in, although his remarks toward Jake were a little more snarky. The two were still arguing by the time Niki and Sunoo reached them, Heeseung slinging an arm around their shoulders with a broad grin on his face. 

“Now that everyone’s here, should we get going?” He asked. The group nodded as one, as they set off into the forest with only the small oil lamp to light their way. 

It was relatively silent for the first few minutes, each of them carefully not to be too loud in order not to awaken their drowsy town, as well as to not accidentally scare each other in the process. The seven boys moved relatively slowly, the one measly light between them halting them from progressing quickly. A silence drifted over them as they ventured further in, every now and then someone would snap a twig and their soft footsteps would freeze. Niki wondered if they were really scared of something being out here. After all, no one would be able to hear a single twig cracking all the way from town.

Eventually, they stumbled into a small clearing. Well, about as clear as it had been so far. There were still trees littered around and shrubbery to shove aside, but it wasn't nearly as dense as the woods they had traveled through prior. The boys drifted from their single-file line and glanced around as best they could in the dark. Suddenly, a hand was pointing toward something near the edge of the clearing.

“Hey, is that a house?” A voice Niki recognized as Jungwon called out from beside him. Following the boy’s hand and peering past it, Niki saw a small building. It seems rugged and hollow, but nonetheless, it did look like a cabin.

“Do you think the kumiho lives there?” Jake asked, his voice a little breathy.

“I mean, who else lives in the woods” Heeseung replied, stepping over a tree root to cross towards the structure. Sunoo reached out to grab his wrist, an almost pleading look in his eye.

“What if someone lives there? You can’t just break in!” 

“If a person lived in there, they would take better care of it,” Heeseung scoffed, turning away and resuming his way over, “come on, guys!”

Niki watched Jay give Sunoo an apologetic look, patting him once on the back before following Heeseung. The others trailed behind the two oldest until it was Niki and Sunoo alone again. Niki fixed him with a questioning look, but Sunoo simply sighed, gesturing to the youngest before setting off to catch up with the rest.

When Niki arrived at the front of the house, Heeseung and Jake were already attempting to get in. Heeseung had a shoulder against the door, trying to forcefully knock it down. Jake was kicking at the bottom of the wood, although both boys’ attempts seemed to prove futile. Sunghoon spoke up, pointing to the handle on the door.

“Doesn’t work. It’s stuck or something,” Heeseung gritted out, pulling back before slamming his body against the door. It seemed to rattle the frail house, and the sound of something crashing came from inside the cabin. The wooden door trembled against his weight but held firm nonetheless. Jake looked at the boy with widened eyes, and slowly backed out of his way. Heeseung rammed into the door over and over, grunts leaving his mouth with each collision. The rest of the boys simply watched him, the forest silent save for the thuds and creaking of the house. Niki glanced over at Sunoo, seeing the boy’s face scrunch up in a wince every time Heeseung’s body collided with the wood.

Eventually, Heeseung sunk down in front of the jammed door, his steadfast resolve cracking. His head leaned back to rest against the wood, a sigh slipping past his lips. Niki stared at him before his eyes drifted to look at the house. The wood was splintering in some places, and the wood pillars at the corners of the house looked close to falling apart. The windows were hidden by shutters, although one was hanging off by the hinges, allowing Niki to see the glass behind it. It was surprisingly clear, and he didn’t see any cracks at all. The seemingly pristine condition of the window was in direct contrast with the withering state of the rest of the cabin. The building was obviously abandoned, and yet the window’s glass seemed to be kept clean and cared for. Niki leaned forward a tiny bit to look closer at the window, attempting to make out the inside of the house, only to see a figure blocking his view.

Wait, what?

Niki froze, blinking a few times. Perhaps he was simply imagining things. Yet still, a pair of eyes met his through the window. Inside the cabin, a girl stood in front of the window, peering at Niki with a curious glint in her eyes. Niki’s gaze flickered toward Heeseung in a panic, but when he looked back at the window, the girl and her inquisitive eyes were gone. Niki felt an unsettling dread build in his gut, the desperate urge to leave filling his body. A small voice in the back of his mind wanted to push further, to know more, but his innate instincts won. The realization hit him all at once: that it was almost midnight, they were in the middle of the forest, outside a strange cabin, with a peculiar girl watching them from the window, and Heeseung was sitting right beside the door. 

“It’s probably abandoned, it looks pretty rundown. I don’t think there is any use in trying to get inside,” Niki rushed out, “we should probably start heading back anyways.”

Heeseung slowly pushed himself to his feet, a grin spreading across his face.

“What is it, getting cold feet?” He mocked, his tone light.

“I agree with Niki, let’s go home,” Jungwon yawned, “I’m getting tired.”

The seven of them begin to make their way back towards the village, leaving the cabin behind. Niki swears he hears Sunoo breathe a sigh of relief but chooses not to comment on it, still a little stunned by the perplexing girl through the glass. Niki glances at the empty window once more, only the darkness meeting him now.

“Hey, Niki! Hurry up, man!” Jake calls out. Niki shakes his head, turning and trailing after his friends. It was silent as they followed the path they took to the cabin, a lingering feeling of unease followed him until they exited the forest. The boys bid each other goodnight, small smiles exchanged, some pulled a little too tight around the edges. 

Although Niki still felt apprehensive as he snuck back into bed that night, a peculiar wonder began to eat at him. Why was that girl living in the woods? Where is her family? Why didn’t she do anything? Question after question flittered through his mind, not a single one was he able to answer. But Niki wanted to know. He felt a desire to learn about whoever it was he saw that night, and it unsettled him almost as much as actually seeing her did. Adrenaline was still running through his veins, and with that alone keeping him awake, he formed a plan.

The next night, Niki snuck out through his bedroom window again, carefully shutting it behind him when his feet hit the dirt. It was a little bit more difficult tonight, however, because not only was Niki carrying his own oil lamp, but draped around his wrist was a basket, a white cloth carefully wrapped around the contents inside. 

That morning, Niki had taken a bit more for breakfast than he usually did, claiming he would eat it for lunch as well. On top of his usual bread and jam, he also grabbed another serving of both, and a bit of cheese to go with it. Then, under the pretense of having forgotten something in his room, he quickly stashed the loaf of milk bread, the jar of strawberry jam, and the cheese block in the basket, tying a knot at the top of the cloth to keep ants away, and shoved it under his bed. He didn’t get to eat much that day, but honestly, Niki didn’t think he would be able to stomach it anyways. Worry was eating at him for most of the day, the thought of being completely alone in the forest, unable to call for anyone if something went awry. But Niki shook it off, his eagerness keeping him going.

Gripping the lantern tighter, Niki began his journey to their tree and the forest beyond. He followed the path the seven of them took the night before, retracing their steps a little slower than before, keeping a careful watch on his surroundings. He arrived at the cabin without any adversities, swiveling his head once more before walking to the front steps. Niki carefully set the basket in front of the door, the wood seeming sturdy even after all Heeseung did to it the previous night. 

Niki’s eyes flickered to the windows, the single shutter still hanging loosely. He refused to look too closely this time, quickly slipping away from the house without lingering too long. He felt much more vulnerable without the assurance of the other boys beside him. Niki ran all the way back through the forest, leaves whipping against his skin and the gentle breeze turning fierce as he pushed out of the forest. He didn’t stop running until he reached the safety of their looming oak tree, feeling its embrace as his feet hit its roots. Niki paused for a moment, his breath coming out in quick pants. After catching his breath, Niki turned to look over his shoulder, a small grin forming on his face. 

Now all he had to do was wait.

“Niki! Are you listening?” Jake waved his hand in front of Niki’s face, successfully pulling him from his daze. The seven boys were currently sitting around Sunghoon’s room listening to Jake tell them about his most recent catch from the lake and how his mother was complaining he spent too much time fishing. Jake shook his head at Niki before continuing his rant.

“And she kept going on about how I needed to start focusing more on finding someone to marry and settling down,” he rolled his eyes, lifting a hand to rest his chin on, “like I need to find someone, we all know that any of the girls in town would be kill to end up marrying one of us.”

Although there were some scoffs from the older boys at Jake’s confidence, it wasn’t as if he was wrong. They were popular in their village, and especially popular among the girls. Before Heeseung and Jay finally decided on one girl, they typically had a new one hanging off their arm every week. The rest of them always had girls giving them gifts and whatnot, vying for their attention. More often than not, girls would give them gifts in the form of food, such as pies or freshly baked bread.

Like the bread Niki gave to the girl in the forest.

He quickly shot up from his spot on the floor, muttering an apology about not feeling well and going home early. Niki ignored the weird looks the other boys gave him, walking out the door and away from their prying eyes. All he could think about was that girl. He had visited her cabin again last night, only to find the food was gone. And not only was that gone, but so was the entire basket, meaning that a human had to have taken it. An animal would have no need for a basket, and it was unlikely that it would even attempt to take it. The fact that it was gone confirmed his suspicion that someone lived in that cabin. He hadn’t been seeing things when he saw the figure in the window. But what should he do now? Was he supposed to tell his friends?

Lost in his thoughts, Niki didn’t pay attention to what he was doing or where he was going. He was only pulled back into reality when he felt a sharp sting on the side of his arm. He looked down to see blood beginning to trickle from a cut on his bicep. He winced, feeling the cloth of his shirt brushing against the wound. He glanced around him for the cause of the injury when he spotted someone crouching down near him. He paused, surprised to find someone else out here. He took a few steps closer, trying to get a better glimpse of the mysterious person. 

The person seemed to be a girl, and she was crouched down beside a thin red fox, feeding it something out of the palm of her hand. Niki was a little shocked, everyone knew it was dangerous to go in the woods in general but to get that close to the unpredictable wildlife? It was essentially begging to get attacked. Niki craned his neck, peering at the girl’s hand, where a small piece of cheese sat being offered to the fox. With a start, Niki realized that could be the cheese he gave to the girl in the cabin, and this might just be that girl.

“Hey, you!” Niki yelled, wincing at his own volume. The fox jerked its head up before darting off deeper into the woods, leaving the girl and her bit of cheese behind. She turned to where Niki stood, a scowl on her face. Even with her expression distorting her features, Niki could tell she was beautiful. Niki didn’t get to admire the girl for long before she was stomping over to him, calling out as she did so.

“You scared the fox away! He has to eat too, you know,” she snapped at him, waving her hands around for emphasis, “Do you always just go around yelling in the woods, huh?”

Niki rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish at being scolded by a girl he didn’t even know. He mumbled an apology, speaking up once her temper had quelled.

“But you know, it’s dangerous in the forest. You really shouldn’t be out here.”

She wouldn’t quite meet his gaze, but he saw her roll her eyes anyways, “Oh yeah? Then what are you doing out here?”

Niki was taken aback by this, not expecting her to rebut him. He fumbled over his words, claiming that he was just looking for something, a certain kind of berry. When questioned why, Niki made up some random nonsense about how if you see those berries, it brings you good luck. Niki didn’t know anything about berries, nor did he care for superstitious myths like that, but he couldn’t tell her that he was trying to find a random girl he saw in the window of an abandoned cabin that he didn’t even know what she looked like besides a brief glimpse.

“Is that so?” the girl questioned, clearly unconvinced by his ramblings. She finally lifted her head enough to meet Niki’s gaze, and he sucked in a breath out of shock. 

Niki recognized those eyes, he doesn’t think he would ever be able to forget them. Her eyes were the most memorable thing about her, shining through the glass. They held the same curious tinge as they had the night he first saw her, and Niki’s chest suddenly felt lighter and eerily dense at the same time. He wasn’t even able to reply to the girl, stuck staring at her eyes as they flickered down to his arm, widening at some point below his shoulder.

“What happened?” She yelped, reaching out to examine his arm. Niki hissed when her fingers made contact with his wound, the pain flaring up even though the barrier of his sleeve prevented direct contact. The girl’s eyebrows furrowed, and she looked up at him, inquiring for permission to look at his injury. He nodded dumbly, almost hypnotized by her gaze, and suppressed a shiver at the feeling of her cold fingers brushing against his arm. 

Niki peered down at his arm, surprised to find a patch of blood soaked through his sleeve. He watched as the girl gently lifted the fabric up and away from the rest of his arm, bunching it up at his shoulder. The wound itself seemed to have gotten worse, red flaring up around the injury, blood continuing to leak from the cut. It didn’t look infected, but it was clear that it would likely be soon if it wasn’t properly attended to. The girl seemed to realize this too and turned her gaze back toward him.

“Let me clean that for you, I have some bandages at my cabin,” She told him, moving her hand away from his arm to let it fall at her side. She held a sort of determination in her gaze, and although he knew he shouldn’t follow a stranger deeper into the forest, something in his gut spurred him to trust her. Niki bobbed his head, trailing after the girl as she sharply turned on her heel and walked confidently into the trees. 

As Niki tailed behind her, he noticed she moved through the forest with a sort of learned elegance, as if she could find her way around even if she was blindfolded. She knew which trees had hidden roots, knew which shrubs and plants were poisonous, knew when there was an animal nearby, and warned Niki of all of this before he had even considered it a possibility. To be this well-versed in the forest, Niki thought she must have lived here for a long time. The thought both intrigued and saddened him. He wondered what must have happened to her to force her into living in such conditions for as long as she likely had. 

If she was a kumiho, it would make sense that she’s lived in the woods her whole life.

Niki stilled at the notion, that looming dread creeping back. The girl must have noticed his pause, looking back to give him an inquiring stare.

“What is it?”

Niki opened his mouth but no words came out. He shook his head, forcing a small smile across his lips.

“Nothing.”

She didn’t seem convinced, but he caught her gaze flicker to his arm and she nodded, quickly turning back. The rest of the walk to her cabin was silent, Niki’s thoughts swirling around his head like smoke, slowly suffocating him with their fumes.

If Niki hadn’t recognized the girl before, he definitely would have when they reached her house. It was the exact same cabin Niki and his friends had found nights prior, and it was still in the same poor condition as it had been. The girl seemed to only now realize this, and Niki saw a flush creep up her neck. She didn’t mention it, however, her strides assured as she pushed open the door with ease. Niki almost wanted to laugh, imagining Heeseung’s face if he saw this after he had so much trouble with the dreaded door.

She sat him down at a small table beside the kitchen, telling him to wait there while she went to go get supplies. Niki took the opportunity to observe the girl’s home. Contrary to the outside of the cabin, the inside was well-kept and nicely decorated. The walls held a multitude of framed flowers, each one labeled beneath in skillful ink. There were potted plants in most corners of the home, ranging from petite ones sitting on the counter to vast plants reaching to the ceiling. The walls were solid, it seemed as if there was a separate wall for the inside and outside of the house. The furniture was sparse and simple, but the abundance of plants easily made up for the empty space. Niki found the cabin rather cozy, almost warm, a stark contrast from the cold and menacing exterior.

The girl returned with gauze and two small bottles of liquid. Niki assumed one was water, but wasn't quite sure what the other was. She sat down beside him and got to work silently. She peeled off a section of gauze, dousing it in water before lifting Niki’s sleeve again, carefully pressing the damp cloth against his cut. She was gentle enough for it to not hurt much as she wiped away the blood surrounding it. Once the girl deemed it sufficient, she tore off more gauze and soaked it in the other liquid. Niki was curious, but he refrained from asking, opting to let her work instead. She turned back to him but hesitated a little before pressing the soaked gauze against his wound.

“This might sting a little.” She added, settling the cloth on the gash. Niki hissed, retracting his arm from his grip. Sure, she had given him a warning, but it still hurt, and it stung more than just a little. She also moved her hand away, peering up at him with concern. 

“I’m sorry, did it hurt?” The girl worried. Niki shook his head, even though he could still feel it burning a bit. 

“No, just caught me off guard,” He grunted. She nodded, pressing the cloth lighter this time, brushing it over the wound. Niki gritted his teeth, the burning lessening the more he got used to it. He spoke up again, partly to distract himself.

“What is this stuff anyways?”

“It’s diluted vinegar. It helps with disinfecting wounds, but you shouldn’t leave it on for too long. It could end up harming more than helping.” She answered, her voice smooth. It wasn’t long before she withdrew the cloth, and Niki let out a small sigh. He saw the corners of the girl’s mouth twitch up, but she spoke before he could say anything.

“Don’t worry, I never liked it much either.” She took the dry gauze and began to wrap it around his arm. Her touch was delicate like he was something fragile. He almost disliked it, but at the same time, it felt nice to have someone take care of him for once. As Niki watched her, he wondered if she recognized him too. She had to, right? Surely you wouldn’t forget a boy who had tried to break into your house in the middle of the night. But then again, perhaps she had mistaken the incident for a dream. For some reason, Niki wanted her to know that it wasn't. 

“I know you.” He announced, his voice much calmer than he felt. In reality, his heart was pounding, his eyes a little too wide as he watched for her reaction. The only affirmation he got that she had heard him at all was her pulling his gauze a tiny bit too tight, pausing for only an instant before resuming her work.

“What do you mean?”

“I saw you a few nights ago when I was with my friends,” Niki began, his pulse creeping up his throat, “through the window.”

She finished wrapping his wound, tying it off at the side in a simple knot. He almost wanted to admire her work, the wrapping far better than he could have ever done, but he kept his eyes trained on the girl. She leaned back, looking him in the eye.

“I remember now, your friend kept banging against the door. I was woken up and took a look outside, thinking it was one of the wild animals I feed wanting food.”

Niki restrained a wince. After that disaster of a first impression, it was a miracle she even let him near her house. He felt the need to explain himself, but he quickly lost his composure, beginning to ramble and stumble over his words.

“We weren’t trying to break in! Well, we kinda were, but we didn’t think anyone lived here! I mean, from the outside, it looked pretty abandoned. Not to say you don’t take enough care of it, it just seemed a bit unkempt! That’s why we tried to get in! Wouldn’t you do the same thing? I mean, come on, it’s not every day you find a house in the middle of the woods, we just wanted to take a look inside!”

The girl suddenly laughed, her joyful expression catching Niki off guard. Her laugh was sweet, the sound easing the tension Niki had slowly built in his shoulders. She smiled at him, a soft easy-going one, and the sun caught in her eyes from the window, giving them a dazzling shine.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. You were just curious. Like you said, I would have done the same thing.” She teased, giving him a playful wink. Niki flushed, muttering a shy apology. He looked back up at her, feeling his own lips tug up at her contagious smile.

“What’s your name?” He asked. The girl seemed to stop for a moment, her gaze meeting his. There was something there that he couldn’t quite place, but it made him feel warm and safe and nervous all at the same time. She seemed conflicted for a second, before letting her mouth rest into a serene smile.

“Y/n. It’s y/n.”

You weren’t exactly sure what to make of Niki. He didn’t seem to have the same intentions as the boys who you met before, didn’t have the same hungry gaze. Instead, he seemed curious, a desire to learn more about you as a person, not just for your appearance. It caught you off guard, especially since despite this curiosity, he still remained cautious of your presence. While the other boys were always smug, and overly confident in their abilities, Niki retained some humility. It honestly astonished you, knowing the crowd he hung around. You didn’t know most of their names, but you had heard about one in particular, the oldest of their group. 

When you first arrived in this town a few months ago, you saw a boy who would always wander around the forest, often killing rabbits and other small rodents. It pissed you off. You snuck around town sometimes after that, trying to see what he did besides killing wildlife. You watched him for a few weeks, watched as he went through girl after girl, watched as he corrupted their minds and ruined their reputations. It brought him a sick satisfaction, and you wanted more than anything to give him a taste of his own medicine. 

You purposely walked along the path he liked to hunt on, waiting for him. He responded about how you expected, all charming smiles and coy winks. You lured him in, purring your words and sweetening your tone. You acted like every one of the girls he had ruined, except this time it would be him.

You had known you had when his hands got a little too touchy and his glances lingered on you a little too long. His sweet words did nothing to mask the fervent hunger. He looked at you like he did the animals he killed. It sickened you, and you knew it was time. You teased him with a honeyed grin and watched his eyes widen in disbelief when you sunk claws into his heart. 

You don’t remember his name, but you knew he had a brother. You saw him at the funeral, a deep frown decorating his face and fresh tears streaking his face. You suppose you shouldn’t have expected anything different from the boy, seeing as he was your most recent kill’s brother. He played girls the same way his brother did, although not to the same extent. He only seemed to do it after his brother was gone, perhaps in his memory in some sick sense. But he settled down, found a girl, and committed fully, treating her as gold. Perhaps that is why you left him alone. Perhaps letting him live when his brother was gone was more punishment than simply killing him.

When Niki came along, he took the time to tell you all about his friends. You learned the oldest of their group was called Heeseung, and was finally able to put a name to his face. When Niki mentioned Heeseung’s brother, you struggled to keep your face neutral, desperate to not let recognition show in your eyes. You swore you did a horribly poor job, but if Niki noticed, he said nothing.

Ever since the day you had cleaned his wound for him in your cabin, he visited you as often as he could. Some days he couldn’t find you, and you simply took the chance to watch him from afar. You wanted to see if he was as gentle with the wildlife as he was with you. You had seen boys that treated you with care but blatantly disrespected the nature beneath their feet. A voice in the back of your head was hoping he would mess up, hoping that your previous view could be restored. But he always stepped with care, never intruding on any wild animal’s personal space. You ruled out the possibility of him simply being scared, as he often excitedly chattered to you about how pretty the foxes and deer were, and how he wished he could touch them. He brought more cheese with him, and you taught him how to feed the foxes. Niki seemed entranced by them, carefully reaching his hand out, palm open, with a bit of cheese. His mouth opened in a small gasp the first time a fox took the cheese, and when it scampered off, he turned to you with a bright smile and wide eyes. You had burned the image into your mind and secretly traced it into your heart.

You were quickly coming to realize it was difficult to lie to Niki. Not because he could read you easily, in fact, he was rather dense when it came to understanding your inner thoughts, but due to some odd moral dilemma. He had shattered your previous perception. His gaze wasn’t a tiger’s or a lion’s, it wasn’t a hungry beast waiting for the chance to strike. It was like a gentle breeze, light touches and dancing around, softly encouraging you onward. 

You simply couldn’t bring yourself to lie to Niki. Even on the first day, you couldn’t lie to him. Whenever a boy had asked for your name, you either made one up or simply refused to tell them, playing it off with a sly smirk and a wink. But somehow, Niki was able to make you let your guard down. Your name was rolling off your tongue before you could even think of the consequences. His tender smile as he told you his name made any thoughts or regrets evaporate.

You still remember how soft his voice sounded when he asked about your parents one night. The two of you were laying on your backs in the clearing, gazing up at the stars. He pointed out all the constellations he knew, chirping about how his mom had taught them to him when he was younger. His voice had gotten faint once he asked, and he shifted himself up on his elbows to better look at your face. 

“You don’t have to answer.” He added in a quiet voice, harmless and unassuming like a rabbit. 

“No, it’s alright,” You said. You thought for a moment about what to tell him and settled on the closest thing to the truth you could get, “I never knew them. They probably died soon after I was born.” You watched the stars, keeping your eyes away from Niki. Part of you knew that if you held his gaze for too long you might spill everything to him. And while you desperately wanted to trust him, you weren’t sure you could. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Niki slowly nod, processing what you told him. 

“Do you,” He started cautiously, “ever wish you didn’t have to be alone?”

You stared straight ahead, silently stunned. You pulled yourself out of it, thinking over his question. You didn’t have a time when you weren’t alone, so it wasn’t like you really had something to compare it to. But you weren’t alone, you knew that.

“Sometimes, sure. But I have the forest. I have the deer, and the rabbits, and the foxes to keep me company. We look out for each other, we keep each other safe.” A small smile graced your lips, an honest one, not for show or anything else. You basked in the silence for a moment, listening to the wind as it brushed over the two of you.

“And you have me.” Niki declared. You looked at him, your expression confused, and Niki cleared his throat before repeating himself.

“You have me, too. We can look out for each other. Even if we feel alone, we will be here for each other, okay?” He had a determination in his eyes that you wanted to coo at, but you felt breathless. You simply stared at him for a few seconds, silence drifting between you, but Niki’s expression stayed resolute. A tranquil feeling danced over your body, and you let yourself relax into the grass.

“Okay. We have each other.” He smiled, content, and laid back down beside you, the dewy grass tickling your bodies. 

You knew then that you couldn’t deceive him any longer.

When Niki visited you the next day, you had a sinking feeling. It was as if you were swimming towards safety but the closer to shore you swam the further away it got. You could feel your mind slowly getting tired, limbs numb as you pressed on. You prayed that Niki wouldn’t notice. You had promised yourself that you would tell him, but you wanted to decide that on your own, not because you were urged into it.

Of course, you should have known it wouldn’t happen the way you wanted. Niki had a way of making you open up. You found yourself carving spaces for him deep inside of you, time and time again, and now was no different. His eyes were considerate as they watched you, and his voice was small when he spoke.

“Are you alright? You seem on edge,” Niki coaxed, “Did something happen?”

You had never been able to lie to Niki. Even now, when faced with a question where you should have responded with a well-practiced lie, your breath caught in your throat. It was simple, you should never tell anyone about what you were, not unless you planned on them being dead within the next 5 minutes. And yet here you were, ready to spill out your heart to the boy with a gaze as gentle as the wind. In his eyes, you saw the shore you desperately needed to reach.

“I need to tell you something.”

He nodded, letting you take his hand and lead him back inside your cabin. You sat him down at the small table, taking the seat beside him. You remembered the very first time the two of you sat here, and you felt an urge to reach out for his arm, to look for the wound even though the scar had long faded. You felt Niki squeeze your still intertwined hands, and you took a breath before you spoke.

“I’m a kumiho.” You gulped, the feeling of dread building up again. It threatened to drown you, an overwhelming force pushing over your head. You braced yourself for him to attack you, ripping his hand away with a disgusted expression, using whatever was closest to him to strike you with. Or perhaps it would be worse, his gaze would turn fearful, his mouth dropping in a silent scream, and he would bolt away from you, taking the shore, taking your safety with him. 

“I know,” Niki said finally. You stared at him, astonished. 

“You.. know?” 

He nodded, a simple thing, but to you, it felt like you had finally reached safety. Your aching body collapsed against the sand, feeling the grains stick against your soaked skin.

“I’ve had a feeling since I first saw you,” He let a light chuckle slip through, the sound feeling foreign in the current situation. Niki hesitated for a second, before grasping your other hand as well, eyes piercing through you.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded dumbly, far too shocked to be able to think clearly.

“Why didn’t you kill me?” 

His eyes held a million questions, but he had settled on this one. You didn’t know how to explain it to yourself, let alone him You felt lost and yet seen, you were about to sink but he was keeping you afloat. When you were seconds from burning out, he lit you aflame.

“You were just… different.”

“Why? What did they do?” His tone wasn’t critical or condemning, it was simply curious. His gaze was humane, bordering on sympathetic, and you almost wanted to cry.

“They didn’t care about anyone else but themselves. They would kill wildlife and laugh about it. They destroyed and corrupted girls and got satisfaction from it. It made me sick, Niki.”

His gaze softened as you spoke, and he let go of one of your hands to reach out, brushing against your face delicately. It was only then you realized there were tears running down your face. You began to cry harder at the recognition, feeling Niki’s hands wipe away your tears as they fell, consoling you. You murmured about how you wished they would do such things, and he quieted your blubbering with soothing hands. 

You blinked away the rest of the tears, peering at him in a mixture of shame and awe. He stared back with what could only be described as adoration, a tender smile painting his lips. Niki waited until your tears had stopped falling, reduced to small sniffles before he spoke.

“Is it true that if a kumiho doesn’t kill anyone for a thousand days, then they will become human?” He asked, a glimmer of something you couldn’t place in his eyes.

“Yes, it is.” You responded slowly, doubtful of where exactly he was going with this.

“How long has it been since you last,” Niki paused for a moment before steeling himself, “since you last killed someone?”

Your voice caught in your throat, the words like a vice grip around you. Niki clasped your hands tightly, whispers of “It’s okay” and “They weren’t innocent” in his soft voice reaching your ears.

“His name was Beomgyu,” You hiccupped, “It was a week before I saw you for the first time.” The only thing keeping you steady was Niki’s secure hold.

“So it’s been a couple months?”

You nodded gently, not quite looking him in the eye. You felt ashamed, a feeling you had never had about what you did to those boys before you met Niki.

“Do you think you can do it?” He asked faintly. You looked at him then, a question written in your gaze.

“Can you not hurt anyone for the rest of the thousand days?” He coaxed, “Then you would be human, you wouldn’t have to worry anymore.” 

You almost broke out into tears again from his words. Never had you thought you would open up to someone this much, your heart in your hands, practically begging him to take it. You felt selfish, selfish for wanting to have him, selfish for tainting him with your previous actions. A part of you told you to refuse, that you had already gone too far. This was your only chance to attempt to fix things, to save him from yourself.

“I’ll wait for you, y/n, I promise. I’ll wait for as long as it takes.”

You closed your eyes then, desperately willing the tears pooling up to disappear. A single one fell down your cheek anyway, and a pitiful gasp escaped you. 

“You don’t have to, Niki.”

“I want to.” He assured, taking your face in his hands. The two of you stared at each other for what felt like ages, before he spoke again, never taking his eyes off yours.

“Can I kiss you?”

You nodded as best you could with his hands around your face, and waited for the press of his lips against yours. When it finally came, only then did you allow your eyes to close, breaking the gaze between you. 

It wasn’t anything like you had experienced before. It wasn’t rough, it wasn’t hungry, it wasn’t the beast you had come to anticipate. His kiss was just as gentle as he was, a soft, sweet breeze picking you up. It made you feel as light as the sky and brought you back down to Earth at the same time. It made you feel human.

Niki pulled back after a few seconds, resting his forehead against yours, a serene smile playing on his lips. You felt your own lips tugging upwards to match his, a silent wish to be able to live like him. It hit you then that you could.

“I’m scared, Niki.” you whispered in the space between you, “What if it hurts? What if I can’t do it?”

What if it doesn’t work?

“I believe in you. I’ll be by your side the whole way, I promise you.” He soothed. 

The two of you stayed like that for a while, just holding each other. You decided to trust in him. You had already given him the most intricate parts of who you were, you wanted him to have everything.

Tonight was the end of the thousandth day, and you were finally going to be human. In all honestly, you were terrified. And you were upset too. Niki hadn’t visited you for an entire week now. You knew Niki had grown up some, and gained more responsibilities, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. You should have known he would have less time for you as the two of you grew older, it had almost been 3 years since you first met each other, and his town and family were calling on him to settle down. But you refused to acknowledge that until it hit you in the face.

Despite these new duties, Niki hadn’t changed as a person. He was still sweet, still gentle when he held you and gentle with your home. He still had the same beaming smile whenever a fox ate from his hand or curled up at his feet. Niki was still your tranquil breeze, the wind brushing through your hair and guiding you along.

You had learned more about him over the past few years, and under the cover of night, even gotten to visit his village a few times. His bubbly tone as he showed you around overshadowed the consequences if you were caught. 

Thinking about all the experiences you had with him only made you more irritated that he wasn’t here with you now. He had promised you, and Niki was never one to break his promises. You had seen that time and time again, which made his absence all the more distressing. But perhaps he had simply forgotten, after all, it is difficult to keep track of every single day. You secretly prayed that he had just forgotten and that nothing else had happened.

That night, when you finally became human, it wasn’t anything grand or spectacular like you had often joked. It wasn’t the deadly pain you had expected either. Instead, when midnight arrived, you simply blacked out. The next thing you remember was waking up in the morning, sore all over your body, especially on the sides of your head, hands, feet, and lower back. You felt a rush of hopefulness wash over you when you realized those were the areas your kumiho nature was most likely to show through, whether that be fox ears, claws, or the easily recognizable nine tales. In a daze, you attempted to change fully into a kumiho, ecstatic to find that you couldn’t, no matter how hard you tried. With wide eyes and a blissful smile, you began jumping around your small cabin out of pure joy.

Your first instinct was to find Niki, only to remember you hadn’t seen him in over a week. With a newfound confidence in your humanity, you began walking down to his town, intent on finding him. You still feel a little hesitant walking around in broad daylight, but to your surprise, there isn’t anyone around. Assuming they must be working inside or resting, you head to Niki’s home. You creep around the back, to where his bedroom window is. However, when you get there, you were puzzled to find wood boarded up over where his window should be.

You curiously examine it, finding a small sliver near the bottom where the planks didn’t quite reach. You peer through, seeing Niki pacing around his room. You call out to him, watching as his head snaps toward where you are in a panic. He checks over his shoulder at the door before rushing over, crouching down until he is faced with the small gap.

“Y/n? You need to run, now.” Niki insisted, his voice strained, “I don’t know how, but the town found out about us, about how you’re a kumiho.”

“But I’m not a kumiho anymore! It worked, Niki, I’m human now.”

He paused for a moment, breathing out what you could only call a sigh of relief.

“That’s amazing, really.” He answered, his tone breathy, “But right now, you have to get out of here. They don’t care if you’re human now.”

“I can’t just leave you here.” You responded. You couldn’t, not after everything he had done for you. 

“Y/n, if you don’t leave now, they are going to kill you.” 

You wouldn’t leave him now. Niki had shown you what it meant to live, to be alive. You would never leave him in a thousand years.

“I’ll be back to get you out of here. We are leaving together.” You rushed out against his pleas. You heard shouts, and snuck over to the side of his house, peeking out. There you saw what seemed to be the majority of the town, standing around with torches and a variety of weapons, ranging from swords to spears to axes. You suppressed a shudder, catching sight of Heeseung and what you assumed to be the rest of Niki’s friends. While they all looked varying degrees of upset, Heeseung looked downright furious. You briefly wondered if this was how he looked when he first learned of his brother’s death.

Before you could think about that any further, you quickly retreated back behind Niki’s house. After taking a deep breath, you began sprinting back toward your cabin. You felt the wind whipping against your face, and the leaves thrashing by your skin, but you paid it no mind. You reached your home quicker than you ever had before, throwing open the door and hurriedly flying around, tossing whatever you deemed necessary in a bag. You doubted you would be able to come back here again, so you put extra food and water than you would normally bring, multiple changes of clothes for the both of you, blankets, other basic survival equipment, and the music box Niki had gifted you last year. You slung the bag over your shoulder, checking its weight before rushing back out the door. You flew through the forest, desperate to get back to Niki before anything else could happen.

You slow your pace as you reach the outskirts of town, carefully creeping around until you reach Niki’s bedroom window again. You call out to him again, watching through the gap until you see him appear. You gently tell him to stand back and he nods, moving away. You tested the durability of the wood, pressing on it with your hand. It had more leeway than you expected, and you pull back your arm, preparing to smash against it with your bicep. Just before you were about to slam against the wood, you hear a shout near you.

“The kumiho is here! It’s trying to get to Niki!”

You turned toward the voice, spotting a woman you didn’t recognize holding a torch, pointing her free hand at you as she cried out. You took off in a flurry, your instincts sharp from living in the forest for so long. You heard Niki yell something behind you, but you were already too far to be able to clearly make out what he said. You run as fast as you are able to, taking difficult twists and turns through the forest in a frantic attempt to lose your pursuers. Soon you are only able to hear one set of footsteps behind you, and in an effort to look behind you to see who it is, you trip, falling to the ground.

Your pursuer caught up to you before you are able to get up, flipping you on your back and pining you there. You felt the cold metal of a blade pressed up against your neck, stinging as it lightly breaks the skin. You met the eyes of the person and felt a tremble run through you as you met Heeseung’s gaze. His eyes are cold, and his mouth is curled into a mocking smirk.

“I thought kumihos were supposed to be agile, hm?” He starts, feigning innocence, “I was hoping for a bit more of a chase, too bad.” He traced his sword up towards your chin, lips quirking down into a taunting frown. 

“I’m.. not a… kumiho anymore.” You gritted out, unable to talk properly due to Heeseung’s blade under your chin. He scoffed, peering down at you with hatred. He opened his mouth to speak again but was cut off by the sound of someone shouting behind him.

“Heeseung!”

You watched as the boy’s eyes widened, a deep scowl crossing his face. You recognized that voice, you knew it better than you knew your own.

“Stay out of this, Niki,” Heeseung ordered, voice bordering on a growl.

“Heeseung, please, just listen to me. She’s human now! It’s been almost three years since she hurt anyone, please don’t do this.” Niki begged. You couldn’t see him, but from the sound of his voice, it seemed like he was crying. The thought tugged at your heart despite the precarious situation you currently were in.

“I don’t care how long it’s been, this… thing will never be human. Not after it killed my brother.” Heeseung instinctively pressed the sword further against your neck, a wild look in his eyes.

“He.. wasn’t a good.. person.. your brother… hurt.. people..” You rasped out, wincing at Heeseung’s glare. 

“I don’t give a damn what you think about him. He was my brother.” 

“You don’t… know what he was.. capable of…” You croaked, feeling blood begin to trickle down the side of your neck from the small cut Heeseung’s blade made. The boy snarled at you, his dark expression causing you to shiver.

“Maybe I don’t,” Heeseung seethed, a sinister grin creeping up his face, “but I do know what I am capable of.” He drew the sword high above his head, ready to strike it down into your heart. You closed your eyes, waiting for the searing pain to arrive. 

Instead, you heard a shout, feeling the weight on top of you lighten. Your eyes snapped open, darting around until they landed on the two boys. Niki jumped at Heeseung as soon as he saw the boy lift his sword, tackling him to the ground. Heeseung’s sword had sunk into his own skin when he fell over, the deep gash on his left arm making him cry out in pain. He ripped the blade out, tossing it to the side, a deep grimace painting his features. Niki halted for a moment, shocked at his own actions. His pause gave Heeseung enough time to reach into his own pocket, pull out a small silver knife, and slash it against Niki’s shoulder. It wasn’t nearly as deep as Heeseung’s wound, but Niki yelped out in pain nonetheless. 

You scrambled to your feet, grabbing the sword Heeseung had thrown aside and pulling Niki up and behind you, pointing the sword at Heeseung. He stared at you, clutching his arm in agony. A small voice told you to just kill him, to make sure he wouldn’t follow you, to make sure he wouldn’t tell the others where you had gone. The thought of hurting him made you feel sickened, even after what he had just done to you. You gave Heeseung one last glance before you grabbed Niki’s hand and ran.

The two of you kept running until you reached a section deep inside the woods. After checking the surrounding area to make sure no one had followed you, you pulled out the gauze and diluted vinegar you had brought with you. There was a small lake here, and you dipped a piece of gauze into the water, not wanting to use up water that the two of you could drink. Niki had removed his shirt, allowing you easy access to the wound. You thoroughly cleaned his wound, before repeating the process with the diluted vinegar. Niki still flinched, even after almost three years. It made a fond smile decorate your face, even as the two of you sat in the woods after nearly being killed by one of Niki’s closest friends. 

You wrap his injury in silence, the two of you listening to the water and the wind, quiet and mild, blissfully unaware of the danger outside of its own bubble. Once you finish, you help Niki put his shirt back on without further injuring himself or disturbing the gauze. You sit back a little, guilt swelling inside of you.

“I’m sorry.” You apologized. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Niki turn to you, confused.

“Why are you sorry?”

“You can’t go back to your home now, and you even got hurt because of me.” You set your head in your hands, the day’s events finally catching up with you. Niki slowly pried your hands away, taking them in his.

“Y/n, you are my home. I never want to live without you,” He lightly smiled, and it made your stomach fill up with warmth as he continued, “I don’t care if we have to survive on our own in the woods or worry about where our next meal is gonna come from as long as I can be with you. I would risk my life over and over again if it meant keeping you safe.”

You blinked at him before pulling him towards you, pressing your lips against his in a soft kiss. He responded immediately, letting out a pleased hum at your actions. You pulled back, pressing your forehead against yours, mirroring what he did after your first kiss. He realized this after a second, a contented laugh leaving his lips. You felt his warm breath against your mouth and leaned in to press another peck against his lips.

“I love you, Niki.” You confessed.

“I’ve always loved you.” He cooed, an honest smile brightening his expression, “All our hardships are over now, I promise you.”

And even though that wasn’t something either of you could control, you believed him.

As Sunoo wandered aimlessly around the forest with his lantern, he had never felt more ashamed in his life. He never meant for it to happen this way, truly. When he saw Niki hanging out with this girl in the woods, he originally assumed it was a girl from the next town over. But when he saw the nine tails sprouting from her backside, he froze. Sunoo hadn’t known what to do. He ran back to town without a word, and couldn’t sleep that night. He was terrified for Niki, worried that the boy might end up dead any day. He had to tell someone.

So the next morning, he knocked on Heeseung’s door and told him everything. Sunoo didn’t see Heeseung’s eyes darken, and he didn’t see how Heeseung’s jaw clenched. The next thing he knew, Heeseung was calling all the other townspeople for a search party, telling them they were going to kill the kumiho. Sunoo had no choice but to join in.

Lost in his thoughts, he almost didn’t see them. But after looking again, sure enough, there sat Niki and the girl he had seen before, sitting together on the other side of the lake. She looked a little different, less fox-like, and more human now, but it was the same girl. Sunoo wasn’t really sure what to do. He knew what most of his friends would do, they would find backup and then attack them. He knew what Heeseung would do, he would go in alone, killing the girl at any cost. But he wasn’t his friends, and he wasn’t Heeseung. So instead Sunoo stayed still, and he simply watched them. He watched as the girl pulled what looked like bread out of her bread and offered it to Niki. He watched as they ate together, and he watched as they laughed. If he strained his ears, he could almost hear the sound.

After a few minutes, a fox pranced up beside him and sat down near his feet. Sunoo was a bit startled, but when the fox looked up at him and met his gaze, all Sunoo could do was sigh. He looked back across the lake at Niki and the girl, and he knew that he couldn’t fix what he’d done, but maybe he could give them a second chance. Sunoo peered back down at the fox, and in a soft voice, he spoke.

“Take care of them for me, okay?” Sunoo knew the fox couldn’t have understood him, but for some reason, he felt assured that the fox would stay there to watch over his friend. Sunoo glanced back at the two one more time, and with his heavy heart a little bit lighter, he turned on his heel and headed back to the village.

Permanent Taglist: @starrpt2 @sunnytheos @kalabasaa @ghostiiess @redm4ri @xiaoderrrr @en-chantedtomeetyou 

[m-ayo-o]

ok... so (content planning below)

Manwha : Under The Oak Tree. Genre : smut

So I have an idea ft. Maxi, Riftan, Ruth, plus reader insert, involving oral, threesome/group sex, and guidance. It's been in the back of my mind for probably YEARS at this point and I still haven't got round to writing even an outline, but the image and idea is so clear in my head it probably won't take long to write. It's driving me crazy so I might write this one soon.

Valentine's Event : happening now!

Zodiac Event : one more tiny fic coming

Requests : still closed (thank u sm for respecting this it has been perfect, so well behaved of u all)

Thirsts/asks/chat : open

Foxtrot : ongoing! part two coming soon ft. 21+ megumi stealing toji's gf...

The Money Store : ongoing! sub toji part two coming soon because i enjoy writing it sssososo much

two longer (ish) megumi fics in progress ft. roomate au and an unusual threesome... :3

I have a paranormal fic idea that includes possession but may get quite dark. Others include mythical creatures (humanoid only, eg. succubus / incubus / hybrids etc. may go into omegaverse and hybrid characters soon)

Obviously not gonna stop writing jjk just wanna mix things up a bit.

Been enjoying lil Toru drabbles (feels like I'm practicing)

Always got Kento ideas (but I feel like it has to be particularly special to focus on it because the Kento writers on here go hard. Makes me feel like I don't need to write it as bad)

Wanna write so much for Suguru...

Got some Naoya and Choso thoughts

Also very tempted to write for the pretty boy that is Hajime Kashimo

Have a strong desire to write househusband Toji

Got a couple of tiny Yuji wips

Sukuna can suck it. (jk I can't write him for shit also the Sukuna writers out there are actually astounding)

Possible event ideas ->

1: "The Gods" event : incorporating stories of ancient myths

2: "Songspiration" : short weekly drabbles inspired by lyrics (could involve a voting system)

so feel free to come chat about anything you'd like to read in particular! ^^

[iamthecomet]

hi

do you have any ideas on predatory usage of quintessence

like murder ghoul aether cuz im still thinking about "pump them full of so much quintessence they dont know their name"

-🧪

I have so. SO many thoughts on predatory use of quintessence. And on murder ghoul Aether specifically. Someday, I would like to write full fics for each of my murder ghouls and their preferred methods (Swiss in particular is also quite fucked up). But for now, enjoy some thoughts about murderous, creepy, Aether.

Aether likes them calm. Dopey. Happy. Finds the blood tastes better when they're content. But, if he's honest, he doesn't really care about the meal. It's his least favorite part. Nourishing in a way that feels necessary but not pleasurable. Sometimes he'll even invite Dew in to actually finish them off once he's had his fill of their psychic torment. It's the lead-up he likes the best. The chase, the capture, the play. He likes smiling softly at an unsuspecting sibling. Likes furrowing his brow and asking for help with something. He finds that's the easiest way to get them. Asking for help. Humans are driven by the need to be helpful, the need to be useful. They toddle after him excitedly every time. He tries to pick humans that are over-eager. Excitable. The ones that babble at him as he leads them away from safety. He likes the way they talk. The waver in their voices. Nerves. Excitement at being noticed by a band ghoul. Sometimes he digs in right then, lets his powers drift into their mind and watches the fantasy unfold. Devours all of their hopes, their wants. The way they play out their future from this chance moment forward. They think about Aether noticing them, knowing them, loving them. Platonically or otherwise. They craft new worlds for themselves in the short walk to the basement door. And then, like clockwork, they stop. Hesitant. Aether tastes the bite of their fear as they look at the heavy oak door that they've been told never to breach. Those fantasies of a life blessed by a Ghoul's favor crumble. Apprehension eats them away like flame does to paper. They worry about Sister. About incurring wrath. About being kicked out. Thrown out into the woods to find their way home. About being pulled from the church--the only place they've ever found meaning. Aether looks at them, pulls his probing magic back. He reaches for them, claps one big hand over their boney shoulder and feeds them their first taste of his magic. They stumble a little. Dazed. Always thrown off. Hit with a wave of vertigo that Aether doesn't bother to explain. He looks at them like he's worried for them, asks them if they're alright. "Yeah," they say, "was just dizzy for a second. Must be nerves...I'm--we're not supposed to go down there." Aether shrugs, presses his quintessence in further, wraps it around their brain stem. Calms their racing heart. Feeds them back their thoughts of usefulness, of friendship, of a future with Aether by their side. "You're helping me, so I'm sure it's fine." And then, he leads them into the dark. No one who follows Aether into the basement ever comes back. He keeps them for a while, hours, days, sometimes weeks depending on what he can get from them. He feeds off of their emotions, of playing with them. Finds the psychic nourishment far more valuable than the blood and viscera. He digs into their memories. Watches their trauma play out like a movie. He keeps them drugged up on his magic, sedated. He used to restrain them early on, until he realized he didn't have to. Keeping them high on his magic was enough, drifting, delirious. Implanted memories making them think they're living the life they wanted. Their fantasies played out in brutal detail while Aether digs his fangs into their neck and tastes their pain, their pleasure, bursting bright on his tongue. When they've served their use, when their memories, and their trauma, and their desires start to taste....stale. He finishes them off, or has Dew do it. He cleans up. He starts again.