#i want to answer all those au asks but i CANNOT GET MY BRAIN INTO GEAR

[skitskatdacat63]

I HATE BEING BURNT OUT, JUST PLEASE LET ME DO SOMETHING CREATIVE INSTEAD OF ROTTING

[if-loves]

REALLY REALLY

// Itoshi Sae

sum: sae has something to tell you, but he just doesn’t know how to.

[childhood friends, college au]

wc: 1507

warnings: probably OOC sae idk it’s my first time writing him

a/n: look i kinda got back into kpop (winner really) and yea this happened ig

likes & reblogs are appreciated :)

Itoshi Sae has known you his entire life. He’s known you since the both of you were babbling babies, clad in diapers and onesies, just barely aware of the world around you. He’s known you throughout primary and secondary school, and he knows you in university too. Itoshi Sae cannot imagine a life devoid of you.

It’s after one of his football matches in high school, the one that wins them the trophy, the one where scouts are watching and where it feels like everything hangs on this single match, that he realizes very suddenly that he likes you. That he really, really likes you.

It’s almost instinct that he searches for you in the stands once the match ends, and it’s almost instinct when his legs take him to you. He can vaguely hear his teammates cheering and some of them call out to him, but truthfully, all he can think about is you. You, standing in the stands, his jacket hugging your shoulders and the most beautiful smile on your face. You, who eagerly calls out to him and open your arms with a smile on your face. You, who hugs him despite the fact that he is soaked in sweat, and tells him he was the most brilliant person on the field.

Sae thinks that home is when you hug him back, when he’s in your arms and you don’t let him go. He knows right there and then, that he likes you so much it might even hurt to be apart from you.

When you let him go, he feels like he’s been thrust upon the cold world again, the warmth of you cruelly taken away. He’s reminded that he still has a trophy to get, photos to take, people to celebrate with before he’s allowed to be with you again. You playfully push him off you, and he plays into your mannerisms by stumbling back. Your laugh is the most precious thing in his world.

You’re pointing to the field, saying something his brain isn’t quite processing, and all he wants to do is sleep in your embrace, but reality always catches up with fantasy and he finds himself walking to his celebrating team.

Perhaps it’s an eternity before Sae is allowed to reunite with you. He took a fast but hygienic shower the moment he managed to escape from the seemingly endless amount of group hugs the team was giving, and with his bag slung over his shoulder he searched for you once more; but he knows you like the back of his hand, and he spots you by just the way the jacket is slightly off your shoulder. He gently pulls it back up, taking note of the way you shiver from the cold breeze, and although no words were exchanged, you head home together.

Sae’s answer to most questions have always been something along the lines of “whatever (Y/n) likes”. He’s not an overly picky person, and he doesn’t have many preferences either, so it’s easy for him to just push those decisions onto you. He knows you’ll make the right choice, like you always do.

When he’s asked about university, it’s natural that he answers “whenever (Y/n) is going”. There’s no reason for him to part from you. No good one, anyway.

Now, he finds himself at a loss. You’ve both adapted to university life quite well, he’s managed to get himself a sports scholarship (of course they couldn’t pass someone like him up), and you’re both still as close as ever - except that Sae wants to be more. His dilemma, however, is solely with himself - he doesn’t know how to approach you.

Sure, he’s tried. He’s tried giving you your favorite drink at school everyday without fail, buying you food and the keychains you call cute, going out on picnics and nature walks - but you treat it all the same, like it’s something friends do. You’re just… so amazingly dense even he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Rin calls him a simp, and although he glares at his brother and tells him to shut up he knows he’s right. He’s hopelessly in love with his best friend, and he hasn’t a clue on how to approach you.

“Why don’t you just tell her you like her?” Rin suggests, aimlessly kicking a football. Sae moves to refute, but he finds himself thinking long and hard about the simple suggestion. The answer really was right in front of him the whole time.

Rin gives him a weird look when he continues to stand still, lost in thought, and soon enough he’s alone in the backyard of his house. The sun is starting to set, bright blue contrasting with a deep orange, and he makes up his mind. With a few clicks on his phone, he’s messaging you, already outside his house and on the way to yours.

Sae

Are you free [read]

(Y/n)

yeah why

Sae

Ok. Im coming over [read]

(Y/n)

???

He’s thankful that your houses are not far apart. If he had to wait even longer than he already did to tell you those three words, he might’ve just committed a crime.

Sae stands in front of your house, and he’s more than a little nervous. The sweat on his palms and his heart pounding in his ears is not exactly a foreign feeling, however the scale of which it is happening currently is the first he has ever felt in his life. He thinks playing any football match, even if it were to be the finals in the Premier League, wouldn’t make him this nervous. Or maybe it would, if you were watching.

He’s almost hesitant to press the doorbell. What if you didn’t like him back? What if this ruined your lifetime of friendship, and he’d have to live knowing he ruined his relationship with the one person he’s always had by his side?

It���s too late to regret his actions. He’s already messaged you, and now he’s rung the bell. It’s now or never.

“Sae? What’s up?” The setting sun’s rays hit you perfectly, and he finds himself speechless for a moment. The face he’s known his whole life, the face he’s watched change from that of a toddler’s to a teenager and now to an adult, all of a sudden is somehow even more beautiful than he remembers - and he thinks that’s terrifying. How will he live without you?

“I need to tell you something.” He discreetly wipes the sweat off his palms on his pants and takes your hands in his, his own teal eyes meeting yours with a fire you can vaguely recognise as the same that you see when he plays football. It feels like an eternity before he finally speaks again.

“I like you. I really, really like you - so much I can’t possibly go another day without telling you. I’ve known since the first time our high school football club won the championship, the one where you hugged me so close I hoped you’d never let go. But to tell the truth, I think I’ve liked you my whole life; I realized I couldn’t imagine my life without you in it.” The words spill out of his mouth without hesitation, and he brings one of your hands to his heart as he lets all his feelings go, and he prays that you catch them and hold them close, even if only for a moment. “I like you. I really, really, like you. Will you… be mine?”

You’re starstruck seeing the almighty Itoshi Sae borderline pleading, his figure shadowed by the orange of the setting sun. Sae, who has never spared another person a glance beyond what was necessary, who holds himself in such high prestige he would never plead anyone for anything, is now pleading you to accept his feelings. You feel like you’re dreaming.

Sae could honestly cry with how long you’re making him wait for your answer. He doesn’t want to rush you, he’d never, but by gods was it agonizing to wait for you to say something. He’s acutely aware that his palms have already started to sweat again, and he bets it feels disgusting for you to be forced to hold onto them, but he wants to be greedy for you just this once, if it’s the last memory he’ll have of you.

“So… were all those juice boxes you trying to romance me?” It’s incredible how easily your smile makes him happy, the stress leaving his body in an instant, a sigh of relief leaving his lips. You don’t waste a second to hug him, and he’s reminded of the same hug you gave him all those years ago right after that match - the hug that felt like home.

“You’ll be mine, then?” Sae can’t help but ask, the smallest bit of doubt gnawing at his head.

“Was there ever any doubt?” The feeling of your lips against his is more than enough to dispel all his worries.

[dottores]

HELIOTROPES

pairing: dottore x fem!reader & segments

summary: the gods were sick and twisted. for five hundred years, he believed he was fated to be alone. he had long accepted it—embraced it, even. that is, until a midwinter night when that elusive red thread finally appeared on his finger. but as much as he wants to ignore it, the pull of a soulmate simply cannot be ignored.

genre: soulmate au, canon compliant for the most part.

warnings: fem!reader, worldbuilding for snezhnaya & fatui & fontaine, theta hurts reader but only a little, this was not edited sorry for mistakes 😭

notes: alrighty guys, this is officially the last chapter of the regular schedule—after this one, updates are going to be sporadic but they will at the very least be monthly. wish i could keep up the schedule but its not going to be feasible considering i start law school this upcoming wednesday </3 i'll update the masterlist to reflect the change too

SPIT IN MY FACE

“Excuse me?”

The masked man—had Gamma called him Theta?—kept a tight grip on your wrist, holding it up in front of you so he could look at it himself. He was stronger than he looked, you tried to rip your wrist out of his hold but failed. His nails dug into your skin in response to the attempt, drawing blood. You grimaced as you watched a thin line of red seep down your forearm. 

“You heard me.” Theta’s smile didn’t budge as his other hand came up to grab your chin, turning your head away from where Kappa was still buried in the crook of your neck to face him. “Was he trying to keep you hidden away or were you trying to hide from us?”

He wasn’t looking at your hand. He was looking at your finger or more specifically… where your thread was hanging from it, leading off somewhere to the left of you wherever Dottore was. You remembered how Kappa had looked down at your hand curiously before deciding to come over to you, the way he was so at ease with you for no reason. And Gamma. Gamma had looked at your hand before he started panicking and ran off.

Could they… see it?

“Hm?” Theta’s nails dug into your cheeks now, just like how he had with the aristocrat—you didn’t even know where they went, if they had taken the opportunity to flee or if he had done something to immobilize them, you couldn’t turn your head to check. You grimaced as you felt his nails break skin again. “Answer me.”

How was that possible?

You could all but taste the poison in his words, the impatience and the frustration. You were at a loss as to how to proceed—your arms were tied up with Kappa, one of your hands was stuck in his and he was forcing you to look at him, and that unhinged look in his red eyes was causing your brain to fog with fear.

Think. You had to think. You had to free your wrist from his hand. You had to get back to your room, or to Pantalone’s. 

Where was Pantalone? Livid, you realized that the man was probably still listening in on the show, not getting involved, leaving you to deal with this unstable bastard. 

Think. What did he want to hear? What would make him settle down at least enough to loosen his grip on you?

But how the hell were you supposed to know what he wanted you to hear? Even with just the way he spat out those two questions, you knew both answers were wrong and would set him off more. But you had to say something, the longer you went without answering his question, the more his eyes flamed with impatience—you didn’t want to know what would happen when that thin thread of patience snapped.

“I came here, didn’t I?” you asked quietly. You tried to relax your shoulders and upper body, exuding a type of faux-comfort with the man. “I came looking for you.”

Theta’s red eyes narrowed with suspicion, watching you carefully—his grip did not waver, much to your distress. 

“You don’t even know who I am,” he said coldly, speaking the one truth you’d hoped he wouldn’t. His grip on your wrist tightened and his nails dug deeper into your cheeks. “I hate liars.”

“I’m not lying,” you told him, grimacing as his nail dragged against your skin. Kappa shifted in your arms, bristling, you couldn’t tell if he was watching or not. “You can see the thread, no? I may not fully understand how you can see it but the fact that you can speaks enough.”

Theta hesitated, the corner of his lip dipping in doubt as he tried to decide whether or not he thought you were lying. You watched with bated breath, tongue kissing the inside of your teeth, as a flurry of emotions rushed through his eyes ranging from anger to hesitancy and hope. Then his eyes hardened, decision made, and your heart sunk to your stomach.

“Liar.”

Again, his grip tightened but it was painful now and your body begged you to pull away or do something but he was stronger than you. He forced you closer to him, turning you so that if Kappa wasn’t between you, you would’ve been chest-to-chest with him. You wondered if you should let him go, let him flee somewhere safe, but he was still clutching your shirt.

Theta leaned in close, you could feel his breath hot against your cheek and the cool ceramic of his mask nudging against your skin where his nose would have been. You grit your teeth together as you felt something warm and wet press against the skin of your cheek where his nails had broken through, lapping at the blood.

Your face felt hot, anger and humiliation curdling your blood as Theta let out a puff of amused laughter against your skin.

“You taste like a liar too,” Theta crooned. “Lambda thinks you’re a fake sent to distract us. Are you a fake, little liar?”

Us. He kept saying us but you don’t know what that meant or how it was possible—they could see the thread but as far as you could tell, they did not have a connecting one. You had never seen anything like that before, nor had you ever read about anything like that. 

You thought you should say something but your mind was reeling as you tried to piece together the puzzle and figure out what was going on.

But before you could do or say anything, Kappa squirmed and twisted in your arms, hanging over you to whack his small fist hard against Theta’s mask—with more strength than you expected from the boy. 

Theta grunted stumbling back—he wasn’t hurt but the force of Kappa’s swing had partially knocked his mask off, revealing thick scars similar to the ones you had seen on Gamma. He fumbled trying to straighten out the mask and as he did, you whirled around to rush to your room.

You didn’t get far. 

Not because of Theta, who was cursing as he fastened the mask back on, but because you slammed right into someone else’s chest, broad and dressed in dark clothes. You glanced up as a pair of gloved hands grabbed your waist, irritation rising at Pantalone’s thin, close-eyed smile. You wondered if you had passed or failed whatever test he expected from this situation. 

The pads of his fingers pressed into your waist as he shifted you over to the side and behind him, leveling his attention on Theta as the man straightened back, narrowed eyes still trained on you instead of the Harbinger. 

“Theta.” Venom dripped from Pantalone’s words as he spoke his name. “I suggest you make your way back to the Doctor’s labs instead of bothering my guest.”

“Your?” Theta spat out, taking a step forward. His eyes were wild again now, far gone from the hardened look he had directed toward you after he made his decision. You stiffened, watching as Pantalone lifted his chin, raising his eyebrows, challenging Theta. “She is not your anything, banker. Go back to counting your coins and sucking noble cock to get further in the world, stay out of our business.”

Pantalone, to his credit, did not look bothered by the dig—the only sign of anger was the way his lip twitched before he spoke: “Take it up with your maker, fraud. You have no authority here, you are not the Doctor.”

“I am-” 

Sharp and loud, Theta’s voice rang up and down the hall as he took two long steps forward as if to attack Pantalone but the Harbinger only let out a huff of amusement as he cut Theta off mid-shout.

“I am not one of the subordinates who you can fool into believing you are him. You are a rabid dog running a thin line between life and death. It is only a matter of time before you’re put down, I again suggest you leave before I make that day come sooner.” 

You thought that you shouldn’t feel anything for the man standing a few paces away but something deep in you clenched when Theta drew back as if he’d been physically slapped, red eyes wide with shock. The feeling did not last long though because as quick as the hurt appeared, it was gone, twisting into something far more sinister as a wide smile spread across his lips, teeth bared much like the rabid dog Pantalone claimed him to be. 

“You think you can kill me?” 

Something manic stained his words, deranged and challenging as if he meant for Pantalone to back his words right then and there. Theta did not have a vision, not one that you could see or feel at least, but you knew in your bones that he was far, far more dangerous than he looked—he was strong and he moved faster than any visionless human you’d ever seen. Briefly, you wondered if he even was hu-

Pantalone stepped forward and the air around the four of you crackled with an energy that made your skin crawl. You let out a shaky breath, eyes widening as you took a step away from the man, unconsciously trying to get away from the source of the energy, an unnatural and uncomfortable feeling spreading through you. 

What is that? 

It felt sick. Corrupted. The air tasted stale and rotted as it seeped down the halls like poison. Your vision was reacting in response to it, the purity of the hydro energy trying to repel the new, malefic energy but it was curling all around you, trying to find chinks in the thin shield your vision was providing you from the decay. 

You had to get away from it but your feet were rooted to the ground, watching the scene play out before you. Neither Theta nor Pantalone looked bothered by the energy—in fact, Theta looked thrilled, eyes alight as his impossibly wide smile widened even more, a giggle slipping from his lips as he raised his hand as if to summon something, but before he could snap his fingers, his eyes dulled and his knees hit the ground hard. Almost like he had been turned off, just like that.

What-

At once, the energy around Pantalone dissipated and you could move, confusion riddling your mind as you tried to figure out what happened to Theta and what that disgusting energy was. You took a step forward, eyes wide and trained on Theta first—was that Pantalone’s doing? But as you turned to look at him, your gaze caught sight of a figure down the hall. 

Dottore. 

You were bleeding. 

Dottore could feel his cheeks stinging but he hadn’t been sure what it was until he got to the hall in Pantalone’s wing where Gamma had left you. Theta was on the ground, empty-eyed and still, turned off courtesy of Dottore, and Pantalone was standing to the side of you, seemingly unimpressed by the whole situation. 

But you were looking at him, and only him, and he could only focus on you, eyes tracing the blood as it dripped down your cheeks to your neck, dribbling down your skin. With creased brows and lips pressed together tightly, he couldn’t tell if the look you were directing toward him was suspicion or anger or something else entirely. The only thing he could feel from you was what he assumed were the remnants of the confrontation with Theta: fear, anxiety, skepticism, confusion, disgust. 

Disgust, was that directed toward him or Theta or both of them? It didn’t sit well with him. He wondered how much Theta had told you, and he wondered how much you’d been able to piece together from what he had. Dottore had been hoping to keep the existence of the segments a secret from you. 

The last thing he wanted to have to do was get into depth about what they were because if he knew you even half as well as he thought he did, he knew it would turn into an interrogation of all that he’d been up to with his research. Even when you were young, when the third phase of the bond had first manifested, he had to be careful about what he was thinking about so that it wasn’t transcribed to you. Countless times he received words from you that could have only been originally given by him: the names of the segments, residue, deactivate, and Dottore knew that you must be taking every word he sent you to relentlessly research into them. 

“Doctor,” Pantalone finally drawled as Dottore came to a stop in front of them, forcing his attention away from you just for a second. “It’s about time that you’ve leashed your mad dog, I’m quite tired of dealing with him.”

Dottore didn’t acknowledge his words. Instead, he focused his attention back onto you—the only apparent wounds were the deep scratch marks on your cheek and wrist, painful but mostly superficial. It would heal in a few days at most, he would pass along an ointment to Pantalone so he could give it to you to speed along the healing process. 

The issue for Dottore laid in the boy tucked neatly in your arms, hiding his face against your skin.

The Kappa segment. 

Dottore exhaled. That would be trouble trying to handle. The Kappa segment was skittish and nervous. He usually only stuck around Epsilon, Iota or Gamma, he even tried to avoid the other segments if he could. Dottore had a feeling that it was because they reminded him of their father but he couldn’t be sure. 

Either way, he had never latched onto someone like this before and Dottore had a feeling it would be an issue trying to get him away from you. He didn’t like shutting down the younger segments—or any of the segments for that matter because it tended to mess with their wiring—but he thought he might have to in order to get the kid back to the estate without alerting the entire palace to your presence and relationship to him. 

His eyes lingered on you, only for a few more moments, watching the way you held Kappa close, arms wrapped around him tightly as if to shield him from danger. Kappa seemed like he was on the verge of dozing off, his shoulders rising and falling steadily—he’d never seen him so comfortable with someone that wasn’t Epsilon before. Something unfamiliar tightened his chest. Longing? Desire? Whatever it was, he didn’t like it. 

He looked away sharply, finally turning his attention to Pantalone. 

“Regrator, don’t act as if you spend all of your free time reluctantly handling my segments. You are usually asking for them, in fact,” Dottore said dryly. He barely spared you another look as he said: “I’ll handle this. Go back to your room and rest.”

Your face twisted and Dottore bit back a sigh, realizing that round three of his war of words with you was about to begin.

“I am not a child,” you shot back, voice tight. “You can’t just send me to my room. I have questions and you will give me answers now. I’ve waited long enough.”

Dottore had a feeling that you were not just talking about the past few hours. You were talking about the decade he had spent ignoring your existence. Unfortunately for you, he had no interest in answering your questions, not now or ever. 

He turned his attention back to Pantalone, ignoring the furious look that spread across your face at being blatantly ignored. Luckily—or unluckily, time would tell—Epsilon stepped in. He watched as your brows dipped in suspicion, looking between Epsilon and Dottore warily. If you hadn’t put together something was very, very wrong with the existence of Kappa, Gamma and Theta already, he had a feeling that Epsilon’s appearance just sealed it. 

Dottore turned away as Epsilon took your hand in his to press his lips to your knuckles before he gently led you in the direction of the door on the left. Gamma and Iota followed behind, the latter far more excited than the former. Gamma cast one last pleading look in Dottore’s direction just as Iota slammed the door shut behind them. 

Dottore, as he turned his attention to Theta’s still body, thought this might just be the worst case scenario. All three of the children. Theta. Epsilon. The last segments Dottore wanted meeting you all somehow managed to do just that within hours of you being in Zapolyarny. This would spread to all of the rest of the segments in no time and then he would have Zeta demanding to see proof of your existence and Rho lurking about curious; he’d have Delta bashing down the palace door to get Iota away from you, convinced by Lambda that you were only here to deceive them. And he’d have Lambda doing god knows what to try to remove your existence from their lives so they could continue their research without distraction. 

He needed a plan of action and he needed it fast but first, he had to deal with this. 

“What happened?” 

“Two aristocrats came up looking for the Kappa segment,” Pantalone said off-handedly. “Your soulmate interfered.”

“Interfered?” Dottore demanded. “What was she doing wandering around?”

Pantalone raised his eyebrows. “Was I meant to lock her in her room?”

Dottore looked at him coldly, silently telling him yes, he should have. They could not afford to have any of their subordinates run into you, much less any of the Harbingers and he knew that some of them would be searching for you. He remembered Columbina’s cryptic comment about you a few months ago, Sandrone’s fury at your presence in Snezhnaya, Arlecchino’s odd interest in you—and if Arlecchino was interested, it was only a matter of time before she sent her attack dog after you to find out whatever she wanted to know. Keeping you isolated from the rest of the Fatui was paramount.

“What happened with Theta?” Dottore asked after Pantalone let out an exaggerated sigh of agreement. 

“What always happens with Theta,” Pantalone said dismissively. “He gets set off and lashes out. Was going on about her faking the bond, apparently Lambda is going around convincing them she’s lying.”

Of course, Dottore thought bitterly. He knew that Lambda had been talking to Zeta, Delta and Rho but he thought the segment knew better than to get Theta wound up about this. 

He took a deep breath, taking a step away to calm himself down. Well, that made that decision: the first thing he had to do was talk to Lambda, he couldn’t have him turning the segments against you, least of all Theta, who was very liable to attack those that he thinks did him wrong. After that, he would figure out what to do with the rest of the segments because in stopping Lambda, he would have to admit to them all that you were his soulmate, that this was all real. 

That this was all real. 

Dottore shut his eyes briefly, unconsciously looking in the direction of where you, Epsilon and the kids had disappeared behind the dark door that led to your room. His body itched to follow them in there—the bond in work, surely, but he could feel it was getting stronger. It was stronger than it was while he had been dancing with you, and even stronger than it had been while talking to you outside of the washroom. He should just grab Theta and drag him back down to his lab, leaving Epsilon to deal with your interrogation, but his feet weren’t cooperating.

“You should speak to her,” Pantalone said as he turned to go back to his own room. “If you’re going to have me confine her to this wretched place, you should at the very least, explain to her why… lest you have a very unhappy soulmate on your hands. I doubt that would be conducive to productivity.” 

Dottore hummed dismissively, glancing back at the door once. He supposed should, he didn’t want to deal with your turbulent emotions, especially when he was going to be dealing with the segments. 

Distantly, a part of him wondered if he was just using that as a logical excuse to give in to the pull of the bond. 

“And Doctor, do get me that prototype by the morning as promised.”

You felt overwhelmed. The older boy, Gamma, was sitting in the corner of your room, knees tucked to his chest as he watched you with the younger two. Kappa was fast asleep now, tiny arms slung around your neck as he slept—you had tried to place him down on your bed but whenever you tried to pull him away from you, his arms tightened and he started stirring awake. The other one, you didn’t know his name yet, was kneeling on the floor next to the bed where you were sitting, big red eyes peeked above the comforter, watching you with varying degrees of suspicion and distrust and longing.

He had the same scar on the upper half of his face that Gamma did, you couldn’t help but notice, down to the burn patterns and wrinkles. And they were identical, if Gamma was a few years younger, he’d be the spitting image of the kid. It was impossible. Not even brothers can be so similar as to be identical down to the wrinkles and patterns in scars. 

So, what were they?

You had to have been onto something when you thought it was some sort of experiment—Kappa was too young to have been born eight years ago, Gamma and the new kid were too similar in appearances, if you saw correctly when Kappa partially knocked off the mask even Theta seemed to have some scars on his face, and Theta and Kappa both showed a strength that did not reflect in their body.

A throat being cleared knocked you out of your thoughts, your eyes drew up from the kids to where the man was standing near the door. He gave you a small, apologetic smile as his eyes met yours—red and gentle. 

Who was this?

You watched the man with thinly veiled suspicion. He looked just like Dottore, silvery blue hair styled the same way and even wearing a similar dark button-up that he did. 

Except unlike Dottore, he was not wearing a mask. 

His skin was smooth compared to the scars of the children and instead of the ever-present frown of Dottore, the corner of his lips were turned up. You had grown used to the cold aloofness of your soulmate over the years, it unnerved you how someone could look so much like him and yet feel entirely different. 

You raised your chin as Epsilon came to sit on the edge of the bed next to you, keeping your expression stony, studying him to try to figure out what he wanted from you.

“Peace,” he murmured. “I’d just like to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m fine.” 

He had a white handkerchief between his fingers and you were acutely aware of the blood still dripping down your cheeks and arm. He raised his eyebrows, but sighed when he realized you weren’t going to budge, placing the handkerchief back in his pocket. 

“Very well,” he said quietly. “I’m sure you have questions. I can answer them if you’d like.”

Of course you had questions, but could you trust him to answer them? 

He didn’t appear as if he was trying to deceive you, his eyes were warm and his lips were lax, he had none of that tightness that Dottore usually had. Was he faking it? Or was he wanting to help you? You couldn’t tell, his demeanor was throwing you off.

“You’re really her?” a new, young voice said softly, voice hesitant but tinged with the slightest bit of hope that had your heart aching. You looked back toward the kid as he peered up at you through thick curls of hair cautiously. “Our soulmate?”

Our.

Your ears rang, distantly watching as the boy reached out for your hand, thin fingers playing with yours until he reached the one your thread was looped around. From the corner of your eye, you looked at the older man, who was watching you with a knowing expression.

Our.

How was that possible? He could clearly see your thread, trying to play with it and tug at it in the same way you used to as a child, but he had no connecting one, like the Doctor did. Did that make you his soulmate but he was not yours? Was there such a thing as unrequited soulmates? But you didn’t think it was that simple, there was a critical piece of information you were still missing.

But the kid was looking at you again, anxiously awaiting your response, and you didn’t have the heart to deny him. Even if you weren’t sure what was going on, he could undeniably see your thread.

“Yes,” you finally said, watching as he lit up, red eyes pooling with tears and lips trembling as he flung himself forward, burying his face into your lap. He jostled Kappa, who kicked his foot out instinctively, but the kid was unbothered.

“I knew you were real.” His voice was muffled into the cloths of your dress. “Everyone said you weren’t but I knew you were.”

Your throat tightened and your now free hand twitched from where it was laying on the comforter of your bed, coming up to pat his head.

You let out a shaky breath, lifting your gaze to focus on the man still sitting on the edge of the bed, watching you with an indecipherable expression.

“I’ve never seen them take to someone like this before,” he said softly. “I suppose it’s just further proof that you are who you claim to be. Some of the others thought it might be a ploy.”

Others, you wondered distantly but you were more focused on the last thing he said, face twisting.

“I would not fake a soul bond,” you said tightly, mind turning to your stepfather and your mother, your dead father and your destroyed family.

“I insulted you,” he realized. “My apologies, it was not my intention. I was not one of the ones that thought that way but I figured it was best for you to know and prepare, some of them might doubt you when they meet you.”

“How many of you are there?” you asked, but the more important question that you just couldn’t push out was what are you?

“Excluding the Doctor, there are nine of us. I’m called Epsilon. Kappa is the youngest, then Iota, who is on your lap, and then Gamma, who’s sitting over there,” he explained.

You looked back over to where Gamma was sitting. He wasn’t looking at you anymore, staring out the window into the dark night… or maybe he was. Amused, you realized that he was still watching you carefully through the reflection of the window. As soon as he realized that you noticed what he was doing, he turned his head away quickly.

“He’ll warm up,” Epsilon said quietly. You looked back toward him, watching as his lips turned up, red eyes glittering, as if sharing some secret with you. “He’s nervous.”

You couldn’t help the way you let out a puff of amusement, studying Gamma and the way he was digging his nails into the palm of his hand and tapping his foot against the wood of the window nook incessantly. 

“I don’t… really understand all of this,” you finally admitted, relaxing a bit with Epsilon. You let yourself lean back against the large, decorative pillows set up on the bed, watching the man that looked eerily similar to Dottore, wondering if this was what he looked like beneath the mask as well.

“This is new for all of us too,” Epsilon told you, “so I can’t really explain to you what all of the bonds might be or mean… but I’m sure that is not what you’re asking right now, is it?”

“Not entirely, at least. First I’d like to understand…”

What you are. What they are. Why you can see the thread and why the children think that I’m their soulmate too.

“Well, I’ll do my best at explaining then. You deserve that much at least.”

The heavy weight on your chest lifted, if only a little. You thought that this might be the first time in weeks, months, that someone was actually giving you answers. Your father passed and left you with only questions, the masked person from the inn gave you even more questions and not a single answer, and now even Dottore refused to answer your questions, he just sent you away for Pantalone to deal with. 

“Thanks,” you said softly, eyes meeting his again.

Epsilon gave you a small smile, lips parting to speak but before he could say anything, the door to your room opened again. Your gaze shot up, eyes falling upon a familiar masked figure standing in the frame, lips pressed together tightly. 

“Epsilon,” Dottore said coldly. “Bring Theta down to the lab.”

Epsilon sighed heavily, shooting you an apologetic look before rising to his feet. “Another time,” he offered, and you nodded, disappointed, ignoring how Dottore’s lips turned downward.

Epsilon made his way out of the room, slipping past Dottore, and Gamma threw himself off the nook and scampered after Epsilon, fleeing the room without another look toward you. 

The door slam shut behind them, an eerie silence sweeping over the room as he left you with Dottore.

Dottore’s already sour mood worsened when Epsilon flung him a triumphant look as soon as his back was turned to you. He wondered what he said to you in those few minutes he was in here alone with you but for some reason, he doubted that you would tell him and he by no means wanted to add more fuel to the fire by appearing interested in you. Narrowed eyes followed Epsilon as he left the room, shutting the door harshly behind him and the Gamma segment so he could speak to you without unwelcome ears listening in.

The Kappa and Iota segments made no move to leave—one being fast asleep and the other now watching Dottore suspiciously, shifting behind you to peek over your shoulder at him. Dottore could see the boy clutching something in his hand, knuckles white around the object and arms tensed as if ready to throw it. Dottore raised his eyebrows, albeit knowing neither of you could see the action anyway. 

He ignored Iota and drew closer to the bed, taking a seat on the opposite side of the mattress that Epsilon had been sitting on as he observed you. You looked exhausted—your eyes looked heavy and tired, they didn’t have the same spark in them that they had earlier in the night, and the blood from the scratch marks on your was smeared messily, staining your skin and dress. 

Irritated, Dottore wondered why Epsilon hadn’t cleaned it up, pulling out a cloth from his jacket pocket and shifting a little closer. He grabbed your arm first, ignoring that tingling sensation as it reappeared as soon as the pads of his fingers were pressed against your bare skin, and especially ignoring the red thread tied around your finger. 

He could feel your eyes on him as he carefully wiped away the blood, distantly noting that Iota had shimmied out from behind you and was darting to the opposite side of the room. 

“He will not bother you again,” Dottore finally said, sparing a look to the side as Iota approached from the side, this time with bandages. He eyed the boy curiously, wondering if this room was one of the places he fled to those rare times he was stuck in the palace and got overwhelmed by the amount of people. Iota turned his head away pointedly and Dottore just shook his head, taking the bandages and wrapping them neatly around your wrist and forearm. 

You didn’t respond to him and Dottore glanced up at you, waiting for you to say something. You looked away, Dottore bit back an irritated sigh, tying off the bandage and moving a bit closer to look at your face.

“Thought they just called you a doctor for the irony,” you snipped half-heartedly, keeping your eyes averted as his fingers grabbed your jaw, turning your head to the side to see just how deep Theta had cut you.

Dottore let out an amused puff of air. “They do,” he drawled, “but I’m usually presented as one to acquire more willing test subjects. I must at least know the basics.” 

You gave him a withering look from the corner of your eye, bottom lip pushed out. He was grateful for his mask hiding the way his gaze lingered on it, focusing back on the scratch marks. They weren’t too deep but he didn’t have an ointment with him to spread over them, so instead he just pressed the handkerchief to the skin, cleaning up the blood.

“What are they?” you asked, eyes steeled for an argument. 

Dottore sighed heavily, considering briefly trying to avoid the subject but you did not seem keen on letting this slide and he was not in the mood for an argument. He wanted to get this done and get out of your room as soon as possible, even if his body was betraying him by allowing his fingers to linger on your cheek as he wiped away the blood. 

“They are me.”

Concise and to the point, as he always was, Dottore waited for the explosion of questions and demands to come from you but you only stared at him, studying him. Again, Dottore was grateful for his mask because he did not like the way he felt beneath your gaze.

“How?” you finally questioned. 

“Experimentation,” Dottore said dryly, your eyes narrowed as if that was an obvious answer. His lip unconsciously pulled up into a smirk. “I was able to isolate and extract my consciousness at specific periods of my life after years of study into-”

“Irminsul,” you finished for him, voice little over a breath and eyes darting down to your forearm. 

Dottore’s lips pressed into a thin line, watching you carefully—he did not like that, or did he? A part of him was impressed that you’d managed to put it together so easily just from the little he said and the words that had been transcribed to you through the bond. But on the same note, he thought that the fact that the bond had given you enough words to so easily string together how he had gone about his research was unnerving. 

Not for the first time since the bond appeared, Dottore felt distinctly violated. 

“Yes,” he said slowly. “Study into Irminsul. All I had to do was create vessels for the consciousnesses after extracting them.”

“And they are… you?” 

You were looking at Kappa with a different expression now, Dottore couldn’t figure out what it was but it made him uncomfortable, vulnerable. There was a reason why he made sure to keep all of the younger segments far, far away from people. Dottore let his hand drop back to his lap, folding the handkerchief and placing it back in his pocket. 

“Yes.” His voice came out colder and sharper, and you caught the change in tone, looking up at him quickly with furrowed brows. “I’ll be taking them back to the labs.”

You didn’t look pleased, frowning as you looked down at Kappa, who was still fast asleep. Behind Dottore, Iota let out a noise of protest but Dottore only had to turn his head to the side to stop the boy from speaking his complaint out loud. 

“So what? You’re just going to leave again?” you asked harshly.

“Did you think I was going to stay?” he quipped back, sarcasm dripping from his words. “That you and the younger segments and I were just going to be one happy family?” 

To your credit, you didn’t look too perturbed by the harsh words but he knew it affected you, if the way your grip tightened on Kappa had anything to say about it.

“You can’t just keep me here,” you spoke through gritted teeth. “I’m not-”

“You’ll find that I can do whatever I want,” Dottore corrected, rising to his feet. 

You didn’t hesitate, shifting Kappa down to lay on the bed next to you as you moved forward, fingers wrapping around his wrist to hold him in place. A commendable effort, but all it would take was one quick snap of his wrist to free it from your hold…

But he did not snap away his wrist. As easy as it would have been, instead he just stood there, staring down at you, waiting for you to say whatever you wanted to say. He tensed as if to pull away but his body didn’t cooperate—he blamed it on the bond but he wasn’t so sure that was the case.

“I’m not done,” you said. “I have more questions.”

“Another time,” he dismissed, finally forcing himself to pull his wrist back. Again, he felt a strange void as soon as the pressure of your fingers was removed from him. “I’ve wasted enough time tonight.”

Wasted?

“Wasted?” you echoed his very thought, scoffing loudly before shaking your head. “You know what, I don’t really care. What I do care about is knowing what that energy was around Pantalone—what was that?”

Dottore looked at her steadily from beneath his mask. “That is none of your business,” he said coolly. “Do not go sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong lest you find yourself a guest here forever.”

The look you gave him was nothing short of murderous. “As if I won’t be already,” you spat, rising to your feet to take a few steps closer to him after he moved away. Dottore remained rooted in place, looking down at you. “I will not be kept here like a caged animal.”

“Then maybe you should not act like one.”

“Excuse me?” Dottore’s words held no weight, but he did very much enjoy goading reactions out of you, watching as your face twisted in fury at the insult. “I came here for a reason, Doctor, and that reason was not to be imprisoned by you. I have information I need to find and one way or another, I will acquire it. You can either-”

“You will do as I say so long as you’re in this palace,” Dottore said, cutting you off by pinching your cheeks between his fingers and tilting your face up to look at him. “Just because we have a bond forced on us by Celestia does not make you untouchable, control that tongue of yours before it lashes at the wrong person. Once I get the information I want, I will consider getting you what you want. Then, we will never have to see each other again. Until then, you have reaped what you sowed and it is no one’s fault but your own that you were not adequately prepared for the consequences of your actions, do you understand?”

Just for a second, he watched as a helpless expression spread across your face, eyes glassy and lips pressed together tight as you stared up at him. His tongue itched to say something else but no words formed on it before you snapped your face out of his hold, looking away. 

“Get out.”

A part of him wanted to refuse just to be spiteful—was it spite? Or was it something else, that heavy feeling weighing at his chest? That was a question he was not ready to answer, so instead, he smiled thinly:

“Gladly.”

i promise they’re going to start warming up to each other soon more than just in their internal narration <.< soon as in very soon wait til you see the scene i have planned

RBS APPRECIATED!

[kwanisms]

The Library of Illusion — Shelter from the Storm

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➮ alien!Yunho × fem!Reader wc: 7.4k summary: Upon entering the first section, Y/N soon finds herself stumbling into an otherworldly jungle on an alien planet on the verge of a massive storm. Just as she's about to lose hope, one of the planet's inhabitants, a humanoid creature called Yunho rescues her and brings her back to his hut deep in the jungle. genre/themes/au: slight angst, smut, slight fluff; fantasy, science fiction; non idol au, alien!Yunho warnings: adult dialogue, female reader, alien!Yunho, slight body horror, graphic sexual content (18+ mdni), smut warnings under the cut!

permanent taglist: @yoonguurt @wonderfulshinee @candidupped @dejavernon @violagoth @tigermoonbiss @katsukis1wife @luvsooby @thesolarplanetarysystem

ateez taglist: @2hodefender @cixrosie @pyeonghongrie-main @flowerboykun @sanjoongie @anyamaris @stardragongalaxy @kpop-stories-21 @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @mlysalt @cinnamoon-belle @briannabk22 @is4b3ll3s @hyukssunflower @vampiirose

special tags: @thelargefrye join my taglists! MINORS WILL BE BLACKLISTED & BLOCKED.

a/n: when we first started planning this and assigning genres to each member, I knew I wanted Yunho to be science fiction because I wanted to write him as an alien lol I hope you all like this as much as I do and enjoy it! Thank you for reading and as always, this is a work of fiction and all characters are not reflective of their respective irl counterparts. for entertainment purposes only. banner made by me. Adult content divider made by me from a template by @cafekitsune. I do not allow reposts, continuations, or translations of my works. All my works are ©️ kwanisms.

smut tags: unprotected sex (don't do this, especially with an alien lol), oral (f receiving), dom!Yunho, alien genitalia, breeding kink, knotting, tentacles, unrealistic sex (obviously lol he's an alien but also penetrated cervix. Do not attempt to do this, for the love of everything, i cannot believe i need to add this warning). I think I got everything but of course, let me know if I missed anything!

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You stared at Seonghwa with one eyebrow raised.

“The Keeper of Keys?” you asked, uncertain if you heard him correctly.

“What does that even mean?”

A smile spread across Seonghwa’s face.

“Just that. I keep the keys to each section. The ones that allow you into the restricted section however were taken,” he explained.

“They are being held in each section by a guardian.”

Your brain tried to keep up as he explained. “Whoa, whoa, whoa,” you said shaking your head.

“You mean to tell me you’re the keeper of the keys but some of the keys were stolen from you?”

Seonghwa nodded. “Precisely.”

You tried to fight the smirk that threatened to form on your face.

“Not a very good keeper, are you?”

Seonghwa’s smile dropped quickly, eyes narrowing. In a flash, he’d closed the distance between you, face inches from yours.

Fear erupted in the pit of your stomach. “I could easily kill you,” he whispered, his words sending a chill up your spine. Every ounce of humor left your body and you stood with rapt attention, waiting for him to continue.

“As I was saying,” he said, pulling back and starting to pace slowly around you.

“Six keys were taken, given to the guardians of each section of the library. I was tasked with keeping the keys safe. Making sure they don’t fall into the hands of those who aren’t worthy of the treasure.”

You watched Seonghwa pace around you carefully. “If they are in these sections, then isn’t that better than having them all together?” you asked. Seonghwa stopped in his tracks and looked up to meet your curious gaze.

“No,” he answered. “The safest place for the keys is with me.”

You nodded, dropping the subject immediately.

“If you want to get into the Restricted Section, where the treasure is, you have to collect these keys,” Seonghwa continued. “That is the only way to enter.”

You inhaled slowly. “There really is no other way?” You asked, your stomach dropping when Seonghwa shook his head. “No. There is not.”

You looked at each door, noticing the signs above them lit up in different colors.

“Then I guess I only have one choice if I want to get out of this place,” you answered, drawing Seonghwa’s attention.

“You’ll do it?” He asked, perking up immediately. You nodded.

“If the only way to leave the Library is through the Restricted Section, I don’t have much of a choice,” you replied. “Do I?”

Seonghwa shook his head slowly.

“The Restricted Section is the only way out.”

You nodded, determination filling your body.

“Then I’ll do it.”

Seonghwa looked relieved as he thanked you. “Which section would you like to visit first?” he asked. You glanced around. “Any section?” you asked to which he nodded. “Any section,” he confirmed. Your eyes landed on the neon green sign that read ‘science fiction’ and pointed. “That one.”

Seonghwa led the way over, pulling out a key ring to unlock the door to the section with you in tow. He pulled the door open and you both peered down the long shelf lined corridor that faded to black.

“So, what am I to expect in these sections?” You asked as you looked from the black void to Seonghwa. “Expect anything. There will be a guardian that has the key,” he replied. “It could be anything. Man, creature, machine,” he answered.

“So, do I just need to defeat the monster and claim the reward?” You asked jokingly. Seonghwa didn’t answer, prompting you to glance up to meet his gaze. “Something like that,” he answered. “These guardians are… tricky.”

Your brow furrowed. “Tricky? Tricky how?”

Seonghwa shook his head. “They’re smart. Cunning. Adaptable. They might try to seduce you, make deals with you, or worse. You must outsmart them, take the key for yourself and come back. Only with the key in hand will you be able to return to this Lobby.”

You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. “Okay,” you replied.

You took a step into the doorway, turning to look back and Seonghwa. “Wait. Can I die here or is there, like, a respawn option?” Seonghwa chuckled darkly.

“Try not to die,” he answered, making your smile fall.

“Thanks. That was really comforting.”

As you continued further into the hall, Seonghwa whispered from behind you.

“Good luck.”

You turned to look back but the door shut with a click. “Prick,” you whispered before turning back to face the void before you.

“One foot at a time, Y/N,” you told yourself before continuing forward.

The shelves extended the length of the hall, disappearing into the darkness. You stopped, opening your pack and pulling out a flashlight you packed. It clicked on with relative ease but did nothing to provide you with more visibility.

You clicked your tongue in annoyance as you started forward once more, looking around the old dusty and decrepit shelves at the stacks of yellowed pages and ruined books.

Before long, you caught sight of something that looked out of place.

A plant. Bluish green leaves extended from stems growing out of the cracks in the wooden floor. Your eyes looked over the giant leaf, fingers reaching out to touch before you froze, remembering where you were.

“Probably not the best idea,” you murmured to yourself, getting up and continuing down the corridor.

As you walked, more plants started to appear in your vision. Some the same as the plant before and some with huge blossoms that looked unlike anything you’d ever seen. Vines started to cover the shelves the deeper into the hallway you walked until you no longer saw shelves and only…

“Is that rock?” You whispered, more to yourself as you reached out, placing your hand against the cool, damp stone. “What the hell?”

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud crack in the distance, the ground rumbling under your feet.

Pulling your hand back you continued forward, hoping there wasn’t a cave in. As you walked, bits of light started to shine in between what you assumed were cracks in the stone. ‘What the hell is going on?’

You reached the end of the tunnel and saw your path was blocked by dense foliage. The same vines as before, green with bioluminescent blue wound their way through each other, creating a thick wall of vegetation. You started to pull at the ropes, some as thick as pythons until you were able to create an opening.

You wormed and wiggled your way through the vines until you found yourself outside the cave, blinded by the sudden light.

Blinking heavily, you looked around, taking in the jungle around you.

“What?” You whispered. “How did I end up back in the jungle?”

You spun on the spot, looking around desperately for the sandstone building but only saw the cave you’d come from. There was nothing but vegetation, brush, and trees as far as you could see. Had you taken a wrong turn somewhere?

No, that was impossible. You’d only gone straight. There were no turns.

Maybe you missed a turn then?

No, there were no openings in the shelves. You could remember seeing between the shelves but there were no breaks between them. Just one long aisle that turned into a tunnel and somehow led outside the Library.

“Fuck,” you cursed as you looked around again.

‘I couldn’t have gone far,’ you thought as you turned back in the direction of the cave. “I guess I’ll just backtrack out here and find my way back in,” you said aloud.

Before you could take a step, thunder rumbled in the distance, shaking the ground with its intensity. You took a few steps to the side to look around the cave but saw only more trees. Sunlight was coming from that direction.

Deciding it would be best to just backtrack, you did just that, setting off in the direction you came from, bypassing the cave and walking alongside the stone, covered in moss, vines, and various plants.

As you walked, you noticed something was different about the jungle.

The colors were different.

Instead of the various shades of greens and browns of the jungle from before, the colors were brighter, more vibrant. Purples, reds, greens, blues, and more made up the color palette of this jungle. Plants you’d never seen, even in movies, surrounded you. Even the trees were different.

The tan wood sprung up from the ground in various places, weaving together to create a unique look. Gaps in the trees allowed you to see part of the way to the other side and no doubt provided hiding places for all manner of critters.

Another clap of thunder sounded, this time a bit closer. You decided to keep moving and made your way through the dense jungle foliage, taking note of any landmarks you saw in case this plan didn’t pan out.

You stopped briefly to take a sip of water, the humid jungle heat making you break a sweat. You continued forward, traversing over various plants and other things like rock and bits of branches from the trees until you noticed a break in the trees.

‘Finally,’ you said to yourself as you picked up the pace and hurried forward, breaking through the foliage and almost toppling over a cliff. Letting out a small scream, you grabbed one of the closest trunks and managed to keep your balance, looking down what you estimated was over a fifty foot drop to the forest below.

You looked around, surveying the jungle tree tops. There was no mistaking it. This was not the same jungle as before.

“Where the hell am I?” you wondered as you looked into the distance.

A huge mountain range you’d never seen, jagged peaks capped with snow, a large river that wound through the jungle and was fed by a massive waterfall from a bluff some miles away from you.

Beyond the jungle was the setting sun… wait no. Suns.

There were two. You blinked rapidly before rubbing your eyes and looking back. There was no mistaking it. There were two suns in the sky, both slowly dipping below the tree line. It was then you noticed the clouds.

Above the sunset, thick grayish green clouds had accumulated, looking equal parts dangerous and mesmerizing. Your eyes scanned the sky, the wind picking up and the temperature dropping. Another crack of thunder, rumbling in the distance and a flash of white across the clouds had you jumping back.

“That doesn’t look good,” you admitted. Taking a couple steps back, you watched as the clouds advanced menacingly.

“Ookay,” you said softly. “Time to go!”

You turned in the opposite direction and started to make your way back to the cave but the jungle was dense, the plants all looked the same, and you didn’t remember seeing any landmarks to identify and soon, you were completely lost.

Your head turned in each direction, looking for something familiar as daylight started to fade away, bringing with it minor darkness.

You picked a direction and started walking, hoping you were going the right way.

As you continued, the jungle seemed to come to life around you.

The bioluminescence you’d witnessed in the cave was outside it as well. Plants with specks of light started to light up and even small insects, also glowing, emerged from their hiding places. You stopped, staring in awe at all of it.

The small insects flew around you lazily before taking off in search of food.

Letting out a small laugh you continued on, trying to tread as carefully as you could.

As you went, there was a creaking above you, causing you to stop and look towards the canopy. You could have sworn you caught sight of something dark moving in the treetops but it was too fast. Too blurry.

You pushed it from your mind and continued on, pushing giant leaves aside as you moved through the dense vegetation. The sound of running water met your ears. It wasn’t fast but it might replenish your drinking supply.

Walking forward, you nearly tripped over something large and smooth. It looked like a log but it wasn’t the right color. Carefully, you poked at it, letting out a yelp as it wiggled and moved. Following the length, you were met with the head of a giant serpent peeking at you from the ground.

You didn’t stop to see if it was friendly, instead taking off with a shrill scream as you ran. The snake didn’t seem interested in fast moving prey as it didn’t give chase. When you were sure it was safe, you slowed to catch your breath, wiping your forehead and turning to find yourself at the edge of a small creek.

Walking over, you knelt down and inspected the crystal clear water. You were thankful as you carefully dipped your hand into it, sighing at the cool temperature. You raised your cupped hand to sniff the water but smelled nothing. Tentatively, you took a sip. It tasted no different than the water in your canteen.

You quickly pulled your bottle from your bag and twisted the cap off, lowering the canister to fill it with the cool water before replacing the cap and putting it back in your bag. You were placing your pack on your back when you heard a loud snap and quickly looked over your shoulder.

You scanned the jungle but saw nothing. Slowly, you stood up and continued to glance around until you were sure nothing was around. “Weird,” you breathed, noticing how the tension in the air had changed. The previous sounds of the jungle had ceased. All bugs and whatever other animals had stopped.

That only happened when a predator was in the area.

Just as you were about to start off, the brush in front of you rustled. Your eyes widened, breath catching in your chest until a small creature popped out.

It looked almost like a type of squirrel. It had long tufts of fur at the end of its ears, large and powerful back legs like a rabbit and the long bushy tail of a skunk. Its’ fur was a purplish red with a white belly and black fur around its eyes.

“Aww,” you said softly, kneeling down to get a better look. “Hi there cutie.”

The creature looked up at you, sniffing the air for a moment before it made a squeaking sound and disappeared as quickly as it had appeared. Just as you were about to comment how weird that was, a loud crash sounded behind you, followed by an earth-shattering roar.

You didn’t have a chance to look back before a force hit you, something grabbing you by the backpack and dragging you across the creek, drenching your clothes before dropping you.

Raising your head, you caught sight of something large and covered in vegetation padding ahead of you. Pushing yourself up you saw the creature was massive. It looked almost like a bear. It turned to face you, giving you a good look at its alien face. Bears had two eyes. Not… six?!

You let out a scream as it stood on his back legs, rearing and showing it’s stomach and brandishing four other muscular arms tipped with flesh ripping claws.

The bear-like creature roared again but before it could lunge, something dropped from the trees above and began wrestling it. You could hear growling, grunting, and a scream of pain before the animal let out a gut wrenching cry as whatever had jumped on it gained the upper hand, stabbing it with what appeared to be a spear.

You watching in terror, chest heaving with labored breathing as the creature that came out on top stood up and slowly made its way over to you.

You gasped as you realized it wasn’t some creature.

It was a man.

You were staring up into the face of a man who was looking down at you curiously.

He closed the distance, kneeling down by your side as he inspected your face.

He opened his mouth and spoke but you couldn’t make out what he was saying. It didn’t sound like any language you’d heard before.

“What?” You whispered. He spoke again in that same foreign language.

“I’m sorry,” you said shaking your head. “But I don’t understand you.”

The man tilted his head, eyes studying you and allowing you to get a good look at them. They were a bluish green with black vertical pupils. ‘Maybe he isn’t human after all,’ you wondered as he leaned in closer, reaching a hand up. You shrank away, eyes shutting before you felt his fingertips gently brush against your forehead.

Opening your eyes, you saw him pull his hand back and inspect it.

It was then you noticed your blood was on his fingers. You were bleeding.

You reached up to feel your head, cursing when you felt the warm liquid trickling down the side of your face from a gash on your forehead, near your hairline.

“Shit,” you hissed, bringing your hand down to look at the blood.

“Shit.”

You looked up quickly, meeting the man’s gaze. “What did you just say?” you asked, watching him as he continued to stare at you. “Shit,” he repeated.

You stared in a mixture of shock and amusement. “You speak english?” you asked incredulously.

The man nodded. “I speak some,” he answered. You sighed in relief. “Oh thank goodness,” you replied. The man looked past you, brows furrowing. “We have to go,” he said suddenly, grabbing your hand and pulling you to your feet.

You stumbled and fell into him, his large hands catching you and steading you.

“Are you okay?” He asked softly. You nodded, looking at him. “Yes.”

The man nodded, pulling you along. “We must go. It is not safe!”

You tried to keep up, stumbling along as he dragged you behind him. “Hurry!”

Behind you, the sound of rain hitting the ground and the leaves as the sky opened up, the rain coming down in sheets while thunder cracked and lightning flashed overhead. The darkness had caught up and the sun was almost completely behind the horizon.

“Come!” The man said, continuing to urge you behind him. “Where are we going?” You called as the sound of the rain and wind picked up, turning into a howling.

“No time to explain! Just run!”

You did as he instructed, running behind him as the rain continued to follow you, the wind whipping and blowing the drops sideways. The trees creaked, swaying against the wind as leaves from the canopy fell to the ground.

The rain had finally caught up to you, the drops pelting your skin and the wind nearly blowing you over, stinging your cold skin. A loud crack overhead caused you to glance up but the man grabbed your hand again and pulled you forward just as a branch fell to the ground from the canopy.

“Do not stop!” He shouted. “Do not look! Just run!”

You kept going, following him as you trudged deeper and deeper into the jungle. Soon you noticed the trees spreading out as you ran, a wall of stone greeted you but the man stopped and motioned for you to follow him.

You hurried forward, squeezing between a gap in the rock which turned out to be some sort of pass. The man urged you to keep going until you came out on the other side where the trees were much thinner. “Over here!”

You ran and ran, your thighs burning as you tried to scramble over the terrain, your boots digging into the mud. Your lungs burned from lack of air and just when you thought you were about to collapse, a light came up in the distance.

As you neared the light, you realized it was a lantern, hanging on a pole outside a hut. The man hurried up to the door, opening it and allowing you inside, shutting the door and bracing it. You doubled over, chest heaving as you tried to catch your breath. “Holy shit,” you wheezed as the man moved to check the windows.

“Who are you?” You asked as he lifted one of the hatches to look outside.

He turned his head to meet your gaze, face illuminated by the dim light of a lantern nearby. “Yunho,” he answered. “My name is Yunho.”

You watched as he moved around to the various window hatches, making sure to secure all of them. He stopped, glancing over at you, mid action. “What is your name?” he asked. “Oh,” you stammered. “I’m Y/N.” Yunho gave you a quick smile before resuming his motions.

“So,” you said nervously. “Is this a normal storm, Yunho?”

Yunho nodded as he finished securing a hatch while you looked around anxiously as the sound of rain pelted the roof of his home, thunder rumbling close by.

You glanced around but couldn’t see much. “It’s dark in here,” you noted, making Yunho glance up. “Oh,” he said softly, moving to the center of the room where a lantern hung. He reached up with his spear, unhooking the lantern and turned a small dial on the side, light illuminating the room before he hung it back up.

“Is that better?” He asked, turning to look at you.

You nodded with a small smile before shivering. Yunho clicked his tongue and hurried into a doorway leading into another room. He was gone only for a few moments, the sound of him rummaging around before he returned.

“Here,” he said softly, handing you some material. “It’s not much,” he added.

You opened it up and looked over the fabric. It was some sort of tunic. You thanked him and started removing your boots before you looked around.

“Uh… where can I change?”

He glanced at you, having already removed his own top.

“Change?” He asked, sounding confused.

You held up the tunic. “Yeah? Where can I change my clothes?”

Yunho didn’t seem to understand the concept. “You can undress here,” he replied. Your cheeks turned red, burning as he continued to undress. You gasped, drawing his attention. He stared at you wide eyed.

“Your shoulder,” you said softly, noticing the blood which was not the color you expected it to be. He looked like a human but the blue staining his skin said otherwise. You walked over, reaching up to inspect the wound.

“We should clean this,” you said, looking around for some sort of first aid kit. Yunho seemed to sense what you were looking for and nodded towards a shelf on the back wall near the door into what you assumed was a bedroom.

You walked over and grabbed a basket that held a few jars and some rolls of cloth.

“This?” You asked, showing him. Yunho nodded and moved to sit on a stool near a large square table. You used a damp rag to carefully wipe the blood from his wound which you could now see was a bite mark.

“It bit you?” You asked, to which he nodded silently.

“Does it hurt?” You asked softly as you continued to wipe the area. Yunho shook his head. “Not anymore,” he answered. You hummed as you worked, tossing the soiled rag in the basket.

“I’ll wash that later,” you murmured before starting to look through the jars in the basket, trying to discern which was antiseptic. Yunho smiled before he pointed the correct one out. “Use that one,” he said, his voice soft and gentle.

You unscrewed the lid and brought the jar up to sniff. It smelled strong and almost like pure alcohol. You coughed and Yunho glanced up, concern forming on his features until you waved his concern away. “I’m okay. It’s got a really strong smell.”

Yunho waited patiently as you cautiously dipped a finger in the jar and started to smear the ointment over the wound to his shoulder. You glanced up, studying his face as you coated a generous amount of the goo on his skin, making sure to be as gentle as possible.

His skin was smooth and warm, much like a human, but there was no mistaking he wasn’t human. His hands, which were large, had sharp pointed nails which were also present on his toes and he didn’t seem to wear shoes.

It was probably because of his clawed feet. His physique was largely humanoid. He was just large. Tall, broad shoulders, large hands and feet, and muscular. He had short black hair that fell over his forehead. It seemed like a generic cut like the men you saw back home.

His eyes were bluish green with vertical slits. The irises were a little bigger than a humans and you imagined it helped him see in low light settings like the jungle and at night. You suddenly wondered if maybe he was nocturnal or crepuscular.

You thought it might be rude to ask though, so you said nothing. Yunho glanced up, eyes meeting yours. “Are you alright?” He asked, his voice calm and gentle, unlike the erratic beating of your heart.

You weren’t sure how you didn’t spot it before. His teeth were sharp and pointed. His canines and the teeth next to them were like fangs while the rest were more like a human’s. ‘He must be a carnivore,’ you thought to yourself.

“Are you alright?” You heard him ask again and nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat. The last thing you wanted to do was make him worry or concerned. ‘Just focus on what you’re doing,’ you told yourself. ‘Stop thinking.’

Once you were sure you covered the wound, you wiped your fingers on the bloodstained rag before grabbing a clean piece of cloth and started to cover the wound. “I’ve never done this before,” you admitted as you tried your best to wrap his wound.

“I can tell,” Yunho said, a small smirk present on his face.

“Do it like this,” he added, showing you where to wrap the cloth.

With his guidance, you were able to wrap and cover the wound while also keeping the dressing tight. “That was not so hard,” Yunho said with a smile as he got up, gathered the supplies and returned the basket to the shelf.

“Your clothes are still wet,” he added, noticing you still hadn’t changed. “You must be cold.” You nodded, grimacing as you moved to grab the tunic he’d given you.

You turned away and carefully started to unbutton your blouse. You pushed the wet garment off, letting it fall to the floor before doing the same with your shorts.

You glanced back at Yunho who still hadn’t put on a shirt and was now busying himself with building a fire. You quickly turned back around, heat rising to your cheeks. ‘Why are you checking him out?’ You scolded yourself.

You glanced back once more, eyes moving over his form as a fire started to dance in the hearth. The light flickered, shadows dancing over his skin and allowing you to see in a different light how his skin was much different than you thought.

While he had a honeyed tone to skin, there was a shimmer to it that was really illuminated as the light of the fire hit his skin. Beautiful was the only word you could use to describe it.

Yunho turned his head, looking mildly shocked as his eyes met yours.

“What?” He asked, curiously. You shook your head. “Nothing,” you murmured.

Yunho slowly stood up. “You said something,” he answered, matter of factly. You shook your head again. “No I didn't,” you replied. He nodded as he stepped closer. “You said the word beautiful. It was soft,” he retorted. “But I still heard it.”

Your heart hammered in your chest. ‘You idiot. Why did you say that aloud?’

You turned back around, facing away from him. “I-I’m going to finish getting changed,” you announced before carefully peeling your wet undergarments off and letting them fall to the floor with your wet clothes.

You heard the floor creak as Yunho moved to pick your clothes up.

“I will hang these by the fire,” he said softly and you heard the floorboards creak as he returned to the fire’s side. You exhaled softly and looked down at the tunic in your hands. “Calm down,” you whispered to yourself.

‘You’re supposed to be finding the key!’

You raised your head and noticed something hanging by the door. It was a large skeleton key with an intricate handle. Wait, was that… the key?

‘Speak of the devil,’ you mused silently.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud clap of thunder. You looked over your shoulder to see Yunho at one of the windows, peering through the hatch.

“It's still not safe out there,” he said as he closed the window hatch again, making sure it was properly secured. He turned and caught you staring again.

“You still haven’t put that on,” he said, nodding at the tunic. Your cheeks flushed and you turned away. ‘Why hadn’t you put it on yet? What was wrong with you?’

The floorboards creaked softly behind you as Yunho slowly approached you.

You jumped slightly, turning to look up at the alien creature behind you. This close, you could smell the scent emanating from him. The tips of his fingers danced across your back, eyes taking in the blemishes that adorned your skin.

“Your flesh is peculiar,” he said softly, continuing to inspect you.

Keeping your chest covered, your cheeks burned with embarrassment. Maybe the fact he kept his eyes trained on you was why you felt compelled to not move and uncover the front of your body, hugging the tunic close.

“Could you maybe stop watching me?”

Yunho tilted his head curiously. “Why do you wish to not be seen?”

You glanced around the room like you couldn't believe what you were hearing. “Because I'm naked?”

That didn't seem to phase Yunho.

“Why is your skin changing color? Are you trying to camouflage?”

You shook your head. “No, I'm… blushing,” you explained. “What is blushing?” Yunho asked. You turned your head to look up at him. “It’s what we do when we’re embarrassed.” Yunho tilted his head inquisitively. “Embarrassed?”

You nodded. “Yeah, embarrassed. Ashamed, abashed, bashful, blushing,” you rambled on. Yunho let out a small huff, almost like a chuckle.

“Do you feel shame for being nude?” he asked, eyes looking up and down your body. ‘Not when you look at me like that.’

Ignoring your thoughts as they started to turn, you nodded again. Uncertain why, but his gaze made heat spread from your core throughout your body. ‘What is this feeling?’

“Why do you feel ashamed?” Yunho asked suddenly. You hesitated to respond. Yunho continued to speak. “Is it because you are alone in your nakedness?” Silence again as you found yourself unable to answer his question.

Why were you ashamed to be naked?

“Shall I undress as well?” Yunho's hands moved to untie the drawstring of his pants. You quickly shook your head. "No! That's okay!"

Yunho looked up, the strings still in his hands before he tied them again.

“Would you like to be alone?" he asked.

“I can leave the room if you would prefer that.”

Not wanting him to leave, you shook your head. “I'll be quick. You don’t have to leave. I won't be naked for long.”

Yunho nodded understandingly. “I will wait while you dress.”

The idea of him watching you change had arousal starting to pool in the pit of your stomach but you were thankful when he turned his back and allowed you some privacy to finally pull on the dry tunic.

Once you'd pulled it on, you announced you were dressed and Yunho turned around to face you. He smiled, noting how the tunic looked more like a dress on you. He was just that big.

“I apologize that I do not have anything that fits you better,” he said, closing the distance between you. “That's okay. It's better than my wet clothes.” Yunho smiled again. “Your clothes should be dry soon,” he said before his smile dropped, replaced with an unreadable expression.

You watched as he started to blink rapidly, nostrils flaring slightly as he picked up a new scent.

“You smell different,” he noted.

“I-I do?” You asked, feeling self conscious suddenly. Yunho nodded.

“It's stronger the closer I get,” he added.

You let out a squeak of surprise as his strong hands grabbed you, holding you in place as Yunho leaned in and sniffed you.

First your hair, then down the side of your neck and tickling you. You giggled as he moved further down, sniffing your shoulder, then down your chest and stomach until he was kneeling on the floor of the cabin, sniffing a place you didn't think anyone should be sniffing.

“Yah! What are you doing?,” you whined, gently trying to push his head away from between your thighs.

Yunho then pushed the fabric of the tunic you wore up past your hips, exposing your naked lower half to him. “Yah!” You cried out in shock, trying to push the tunic down, your cheeks burning in embarrassment.

Yunho glanced up, meeting your gaze. You could see the desire in his eyes, pupils wide with lust. “Please?” he asked softly. You'd be lying if you said you weren't the slightest bit curious.

After giving him a nod, Yunho gently pulled your hands away before quickly lifting one of your legs to get a better view.

“Someone is eager,” you laughed.

Yunho turned his attention down, eyeing your glistening core. You caught a glimpse of the green tip of his tongue darting out to lick his lips before he unfurled his tongue, the tip quickly slipping between your folds and collecting some of your essence and drawing it back into his mouth.

Yunho ignored your protests, eyeing your glistening core. You caught a glimpse of the green tip of his tongue darting out to lick his lips before he unfurled his tongue, the tip quickly slipping between your folds and collecting some of your essence and drawing it back into his mouth.

You watched in a mixture of shock and arousal as his eyes changed, the reptile-like pupils widening. In an instant, Yunho had pulled you to the floor, legs thrown over his shoulders as his long tongue squirmed around, teasing your clit briefly before dipping to your entrance and pushing into your cunt.

You gasped, fingers tangling in his dark tresses as his tongue explored your walls, digging deeper and deeper until it felt like he could go no further. You were pinned to the floor with an alien tongue buried deeper in your pussy than any human man's cock had been. You let out a moan as the muscle inside you continued to squirm and wiggle.

Yunho had a firm hold on your hips as his tongue continued to explore. You whined, moaned, and mewled as you writhed on the floor of his cabin, incoherent babbles and a slew of curses leaving your lips.

A burning desire unlike anything you'd ever felt started in the pit of your stomach and spread throughout your body like a wildfire. Your walls clenched around the muscle, crying out in pure ecstasy as a white hot heat burst inside you, spreading from your belly to your extremities.

As the aftershocks of the most intense orgasm you’d ever experienced ebbed away, Yunho withdrew his tongue, pulling the muscle back into his mouth before kicking his lips once more. He wordlessly undid the strings of his pants before rolling you over onto your stomach, pushing the fabric up past your waist.

You tried to catch your breath, also trying to push yourself up but Yunho pushed your chest back down with a growl. You felt two smooth fleshy appendages wrap around your thighs near your hips, lifting your lower half off the ground.

“What are you-?” your question was cut off as two more fleshy appendages slowly spread your folds, exposing your hole to the cool air and Yunho's gaze.

Slowly, you felt one of the appendages which upon looking back you learned were tentacles, no more than an half an inch in diameter. The tentacle was warm and pulsating as it explored your walls much like Yunho’s tongue had only this time, you cried out as a second tentacle joined the first.

You moaned as they moved around, inspecting your cunt.

You felt one of the tentacles prod against your cervix before carefully pushing into it, making you scream. Yunho quickly covered your mouth with his hand as the tentacle continued exploring, squirming into your uterus. It was a foreign feeling, definitely uncomfortable as you tried to free yourself from Yunho’s iron grip.

The tentacles around your hips kept you in place while one of Yunho’s hands kept your mouth covered, muffling any sound you might make. You screamed into his hand as the second tentacle joined the first, pushing into your uterus and beginning to explore.

Tears filled your eyes as the tentacles continued to prod around inside your uterus, feeling the walls and inspecting every crevice.

“Hmm,” Yunho hummed. “How strange.”

To your relief, the tentacles withdrew from your uterus, and were now moving asynchronously of each other, thrusting into your velvety walls.

“You only have one uterus,” Yunho said, sounding mildly intrigued.

“Your kind is much different than mine.”

You gasped as the tentacles continued to thrust into you at different rhythms. “What do y-you mean?” You moaned. “My kind, the females have two wombs,” Yunho explained. “It is fascinating that you only have one,” he continued.

“It means we will have to do this a little differently.”

You tried to look back at him. “Do what?” You asked, your eyes rolling back as another moan left your lips. Yunho either didn’t hear you or didn’t care as he didn’t answer your question, instead kept his attention on the tentacles that were now moving faster.

You cried out, head dropped as your second orgasm approached. The heads of the tentacles swelled inside you, suddenly bursting and filling your cunt with a warm, viscous fluid at the same time you came.

As quickly as they entered you, the tentacles withdrew. “Please tell me you're done,” you whimpered, glancing back to find that the tentacles had not withdrawn into his body.

“Oh God no,” you whimpered as the two tentacles that were inside you moved to wrap around your thighs, keeping you propped up and spread for the alien. “Please,” you moaned. “I can’t take it anymore.”

Yunho either didn’t hear you or he simply was ignoring you.

You felt something hot prodding at your entrance and tried to peer back but only caught sight of something green and blue. Craning your neck, you were able to make out that you were seeing what you discerned to be his massive cock.

The base, which disappeared into a slit, was a dark blue which faded into a cyan before blending into a bright apple green at the flared, pointed head. At the base of the shaft was a large knot. A dark blue, thick fluid was leaking from a slit at the tip.

You tried to swallow the lump in your throat as Yunho’s hands moved to grab your waist, taking a strong but gentle hold before firmly pressing the tip of his cock into you. The pointed head parted your folds, pushing easily into your leaking cunt.

You let out a deep, guttural moan as the flared head breached your walls. The thick shaft slid further into your pussy until the top of the knot pressed against your lips. Yunho made no further attempt to enter you, merely holding you still as he no doubt needed a moment to adjust to your walls. His cock was impossibly big and you had no idea how it even fit.

Yunho pulled back carefully before snapping his hips forward, making you gasp. There were no comforting words. He didn’t warn you before setting a relentless pace, hands gripping your waist tightly as the tentacles around your thighs held you tightly. It was rough, fast, and animalistic.

This wasn’t for pleasure. Not entirely anyway. This was for procreation and the thought both terrified and aroused you. The idea of Yunho filling you with his cum had you moaning, nails digging into the wooden floorboards.

With each thrust, the top of the knot hit your entrance, reminding you that at some point, he was going to try to fit it all inside you. The thought was less horrifying and more erotic as you imagined how full you'd feel with not only his entire cock but that knot stuffed inside.

You moaned, walls clenching around Yunho's cock and pulling a grunt from him as well. “F-feels so good,” you whimpered, chest still resting against the floor. You tried to push yourself up but Yunho let out another snarl, pushing your chest to the wood again.

“Down," he growled. "Stay. Down.”

You replied with a yelp as his thrusts grew in intensity, the sound of his skin hitting yours as well as the wet sound of his knot slapping against your soaked lips. With each animalistic thrust, you could feel the knot start to stretch your entrance.

A slew of growls and grunts left Yunho as his grip on your waist tightened. Your cunt convulsed around his massive cock as your third orgasm approached, your whines and moans turning into cries and screams of pleasure until Yunho gave one final thrust, the tentacles around your thighs pulling your ass taut against him and driving the knotted base of his cock into your tight pussy.

A deep, rumbling growl emanated from his chest, drowned out only by your shriek of pain from the sudden intrusion of the knot.

You tried to steady your breathing but it was too shaky. Your thighs shook as you felt a gush of warm liquid fill your cunt. It was more than any human sized load and soon you realized it wasn't stopping as Yunho continued to unload a massive amount of cum inside you.

Your belly swelled slightly and you moaned, feeling fuller than you'd ever felt before. The knot at the base of Yunho's cock also swelled, effectively trapping his cock inside you.

You felt something squirming around inside, pushing past your cervix, though not as thick as the tentacles. As quickly as you felt it, the feeling retracted and you were left, the lower half of your body being held up by Yunho’s hands and the four tentacles, with his cock knotted inside your cunt.

Time passed but you weren’t sure how much as the storm outside raged on, rain pelting the outside of the hut and loud crashed of thunder shaking the ground.

Finally, after you felt enough time should have passed, you spoke up.

“How much longer?” you whined, cheek pressed against the cool floor. Yunho softly shushed you, one of his hands moving to rub your back soothingly. “Only an hour more,” he answered.

“An hour?!”

Yunho chuckled, still rubbing your back.

“Yes. Another hour and the swelling will go down. Then you will be free.” You sighed heavily. “Fine. One more hour.”

Yunho hummed in response, smiling down at you.

“Yes. One more hour, and then we can go again.”

Your eyes shot open as you tried to push yourself up only for Yunho to grunt and push you back down against the floor.

“Again?!” you cried out, Yunho gently stroked your hips.

“Yes," he cooed. “We will go again.”

You groaned against the wooden floor. “How many more times?”

Yunho’s fingers on your hip continued to draw circles against your skin.

“Many times,” he answered. “After all, we are mated now.”

Your heart hammered in your chest, realization dawning on you.

“Mated?” You whispered. Yunho hummed, nodding as he looked down at you fondly. “Yes,” he confirmed. “Mated. You are mine now.”

‘Oh you gotta be shitting me…’

You don’t know how you managed to survive another two rounds of whatever insane mating ritual Yunho’s species had but you did. You also managed to convince him to part with Seonghwa’s key.

With the promise of coming back, he took you back to the cave you’d come out of and after a surprisingly tender and heartbreaking farewell, you were back in the dark tunnel, flashlight in hand as you headed back the way you came.

The walk took almost no time at all, the rock and vegetation giving way for the wood of the bookshelves and books as the door came into view.

You took hold of the doorknob and twisted it, feeling relief as the door opened and you stepped out into the lobby, never being so glad to be surrounded by ruined books and stacks of old paper and dust before.

Seonghwa looked up as you closed the door behind you and turned to face him.

A smirk was present on his face as he inspected your appearance.

“Welcome back,” he mused. “How was your trip?”

[tj-dragonblade]

[FLUFFBRUARY FIC] Love, Rain Down on Me

Rated: M Word Count: 2272 Tags: Fluffbruary, Fluffbruary 2024, fluff, human AU, writer!Dream, professor!Hob, stargazing, care packages, acts of service, kisses in the rain, realizations, confessions, Dream of the Endless | Morpheus loves Hob Gadling, Hob Gadling loves Dream of the Endless | Morpheus, 5+1 fic

Notes: Final entry for Fluffbruary 2024; turns out I wasn't done with this Umbrella Boys AU just yet. Shoutout to @academicblorbo for asking about Dream's pov and suggesting the first 'I love you' as an idea; my brain said 'Oh yes' 1489-Hob-style and while this is not exactly what I first envisioned, I'm still happy with where we ended up.

Fluffbruary Prompts: Day 25: fox twilight sweat Day 26: fluff woolly care package Day 27: table blush laundry Day 28: reward shelter piano Day 29: breakfast valley sign alt prompts: wish hot solid

Summary: 5 times those Three Little Words go unspoken, and one time they do not

On AO3

1. The first time Dream realizes it, Hob has taken him to the astronomy department at the college, after hours, to look at the stars. "Gale lent me the key," Hob had laughed when Dream expressed trepidation about breaking into Hob's place of work. "I'm allowed to come moon over the stars sometimes, and I'm allowed to bring you with me if I want."

So they are taking turns looking through the telescope, peering into the perpetual twilight of the heavens and marveling at the beauty that cannot be properly seen with the naked eye nor from within the light-polluted aura of the city. Hob laughs when Dream observes as much. "Maybe come end of summer we'll take a drive out of the city, camp out for a night in the countryside and do some real stargazing. Sound good?"

And Dream looks at him, this beautiful man squinting up at the skies through his colleague's telescope, the way his hair falls around his face, the scruff of his three-week-old beard and the elegant line of his nose, this beautiful man who offers anything he thinks Dream might like as if it's nothing. Hob has shared with him the woes of past breakups, the consensus that he is too intense, moves too fast, is too much to put up with, and he has admonished Dream to please please tell him if he ever oversteps or pushes too hard, too far because he is trying to do better, but all Dream can think in this moment is how warm he feels in Hob's affections, how priveleged to receive his time and attention.

I love this man, he realizes, like camellias blossoming beneath his ribs, like the sun breaking over the horizon.

"Dream?" Hob is looking at him now instead of the stars, eyebrows raised, mouth curved in a patiently-amused smile.

"That. Would be lovely," Dream answers at last, smiling warmly back at Hob, and cradles his newfound revelation close in the hollow of his chest.

2. The second time, Hob is away at a conference and Dream has emerged from a morning of fitful writing to discover a neatly-wrapped package delivered for him, tied with a ruby red bow. His sister has brought it up and left it by his door rather than interrupting his writing time, as they've agreed. Upon opening it, he finds a letter from Hob atop an airtight plastic container.

Hey Dream, reads the letter, just wanted to say that I'll miss you while I'm gone and can't wait to lavish you with sweet kisses when I get back. Meantime, I made you some of those lavender-rosemary-lemon biscuits you love and here's my shirt you can sleep with if you want. Enjoy ~♥

Delighted by the package and the letter and the biscuits, and the intent behind them, Dream lifts the container out of the box; beneath it, there is a compact umbrella nestled in what turns out to be one of Hob's favorite t-shirts, worn just enough to smell like him. Dream presses it to his face and inhales, absurdly touched, and smiles as he picks up the umbrella.

Of course Hob has sent him an umbrella; that is their 'thing', that is how they met, and he is also terrible at remembering to bring one with him. Tied to the handle he finds a piece of card stock about the size of his palm, with a drawing penciled on one side. It's a rough cartoon figure that is recognizably Hob, smiling brightly and holding a sunny yellow cocktail umbrella that has been carefully attached through the card so that Hob's penciled hand appears to grasp the toothpick handle. Don't forget! says his speech bubble, and Dream feels tears pricking at the corner of his eyes as his smile grows too wide for his face to contain.

I love you, Hob Gadling, he thinks, both hands wrapped around the umbrella, and presses his lips gently to cartoon-Hob's precious happy little face.

3. "You did not have to do my washing, Hob," Dream protests, somewhat futilely as the deed is already done, dried, and being folded. "I am a grown man, capable of doing my own laundry." Never mind that his clothes had been accumulating in Hob's flat all week while he worked through additional revisions to The Seeds of Fate; Hob's space was conducive to this particular story, he found, and Hob was generous in allowing him to hole up here during the day while Hob was at work and on into the evenings when he returned, overnight when Dream wished it.

Hob shrugs. "They were here, I had a load of darks, they fit. Don't worry, my washing powder's the allergy-free stuff and I checked your tags for temps and such. Which reminds me." He sets the black jeans he just folded aside, takes up a pair of his own. "Your fancy lace shirt's hanging in the shower; hand washed it in cold just like it said and put it up to drip-dry."

Dream is keenly struck by the soft warmth of Hob choosing to do mundane everyday chores for him, taking care with his things, simply because he wants to and he can. It is not new, by any means; Hob has engaged in little acts of service the whole of the time Dream has been acquainted with him, from the very moment he first offered shared use of his umbrella to Dream. The domesticity of this moment settles something deep within him, something that sings of home and happiness and contentment.

"Hob Gadling, you are a chivalrous and wonderful man," he says, when what he means is I love you. "Truly, you make my life so much easier." He comes close, presses a kiss to Hob's cheek.

Hob just smiles, soft and warm and pleased, and continues folding his laundry. "You're welcome, duck. My pleasure."

4. "Here, take ours," Hob says, handing his umbrella to the woman with the toddler at the bus stop as the skies open up.

"Oh I couldn't!" Her eyes dart from the umbrella (which Hob is of course holding over her and her child) to Dream and back to Hob. "That's very kind, but then you'll get soaked!"

"We're not far," Hob assures, pressing the umbrella into her hand. "I insist. We'll be fine."

"Well…if you're quite certain?" She clutches it gratefully.

"Of course. Take care." Hob offers a friendly smile, the kind that makes his nose scrunch up adorably, and they turn to leave.

"Thank you!" the woman calls after them.

Dream finds that he doesn't mind the rain, is not inclined to run for shelter, not with Hob beside him, not when their getting soaked is because Hob does not hesitate to offer kindness to strangers. It gives him a warm glow inside, to know that he loves a man who works to put kindness out into the world, to brighten the days of those around him when he can. Damp clothes and wet hair are a small price to pay, and the summer rain is not so cold.

Halfway to Hob's flat, Dream steps around in front of him and drapes his arms behind Hob's neck. "That was a very kind thing you did," he murmurs, stepping backwards, drawing Hob with him so they do not stop moving onward. It is very much like a slow sort of dance down the street, and Hob's arms wrapping about his waist only heighten that impression.

"Yeah?" Hob shrugs, smiling. "She needed it." Like it is truly that simple.

To Hob, it is.

Dream kisses him, pressing close while the rain falls upon them. "Not many would give up their own comfort for a stranger." His lips brush Hob's with the words and then Hob is drawing him back in, warm, hungry. Dream fancies he can taste the rain, between them.

"Not a hardship, not when I've got you to keep me company," Hob finally says, nipping softly at his lips, water dripping steadily from a loose lock of hair.

"Such things you say." Dream is intoxicated with the moment, the atmosphere, the swelling of feeling he holds for this man and the tender warmth in Hob's eyes gazing back at him while the skies wash the world around them in soft hazy grey.

I love you, he thinks, kissing Hob again, pulling him close in the falling rain, I love you, I love you, I LOVE you—

5. He thinks it next when he is tangled with Hob in his bed, breathless and sweating and coming apart in Hob's practiced hands, when every time Hob moves within him he is crying out, starlight bursting behind his eyes.

He thinks it as Hob shivers to a halt, pulsing hot inside him, trembling in his arms.

He thinks it laying in Hob's embrace after, Hob's chest solid and warm beneath his ear, rising gently with each of Hob's sleeping breaths. I love you, I love you, I love you, he whispers in his head, in time with the steady beat of Hob's heart, and lets himself drift to sleep, content.

One day, one day when the moment is right, he will say it aloud; until then, he hoards it like a precious secret safe in his heart.

+1 Dream wakes on Sunday with a groan, protesting the sunbeams that have found his face; they had not closed Hob's bedroom curtains last night and he is paying the price for this oversight now.

"Morning, sleeping beauty," Hob says, leaning on one elbow beside Dream with his head propped in his hand. He is supremely unbothered by the brightness, leading Dream to surmise he awoke some time ago.

"You are watching me sleep, now? You will not convince me that it is entertaining." He blinks once, twice, his eyes still heavy with sleep.

"Entertaining is not the word, no, but I do enjoy it. You're so pretty when you're asleep, soft and relaxed and at peace. I love that I get to see it." Hob smiles, reaches to trace a fingertip down his cheekbone. "Was trying to decide what to make you for breakfast, actually."

Dream squirms onto his back, throws an arm over his eyes, stretches his toes. "You need not make such effort—" He cuts himself off with a jaw-cracking yawn.

"You're worth it, though," Hob says easily, and Dream rolls his head to the side, meets Hob's eyes again. The sun is striking them exactly right, illuminating the depths of the brown to amber, honey.

He is so beautiful.

"Very well." Dream smiles, indulgent, lazy. "What will you be offering to please my discerning palette?"

"Fry you up an egg and a couple slices of bread? Tomato too, if you want. Blueberry jam for your toast and your sweet tooth. And if you're hungry enough, a nice hot juicy sausage?" He waggles his eyebrows.

Dream arches one of his own in return, and Hob grins. "Yeah alright, that's for later. But I will cook you actual sausage too if you like."

"I will take actual sausage with breakfast, yes, and 'sausage' when I am awake enough to enjoy it." He swings himself out of Hob's bed and makes his way to the toilet, the warm sound of Hob's laughter following him.

By the time he wanders into the kitchen, having donned his pants and a t-shirt of Hob's, bare feet and bare legs and bare arms because he's comfortable and because he knows Hob likes it, Hob has sausages and tomatoes frying in one pan with eggs and bread in another. He's tied an apron over his bare chest and joggers, captured most of his hair in an elastic band, is whistling cheerfully over the stovetop with a spatula in hand. The kettle is going, and Dream retrieves two mugs from the cupboard.

He preps Hob's tea once it's steeped, a quarter the milk and sugar that he puts in his own, and offers it to Hob to taste once he's finished plating their breakfast.

"Perfect," Hob pronounces, handing it back and picking up the plates to carry to the table. "Why's it always taste best when you make it?"

"I infuse it with my charming personality," Dream quips, deadpan, and Hob huffs a laugh.

"God, I love you," he says, his smile still broad, bright enough to rival the morning sun outside the kitchen window; and then he stills.

Dream, too, has gone still; Hob has never said those words to him before, and it sets something joyful and effervescent singing through his veins.

Hob loves him.

Hob loves him.

But Hob is shrinking in on himself, just a little, as if he could hide behind the plates in his hands and the apron he wears—every inch the man who fears (too much too fast I always come on too strong) the consequence of words he had not intended to speak aloud. Dream will be sad about this later, that he has failed somehow to make clear to Hob beyond the shadow of any doubt how welcome his affections are, how endearing his intensity, and he will vow to do better; but now, in the moment, with his heart soaring, the solution is simple, so simple, as easy as breathing.

He has never said the words aloud either, but they are as familiar to him as the beating of his own heart and they are spoken with as little effort.

"And I love you, Hob Gadling." He leans over the corner of the table, kisses Hob soft and sweet on his blossoming smile. "Now, where is my blueberry jam?"

= Started: 2/26/24 Drafted: 2/29/24 Posted: 2/29/24

The lavender-rosemary-lemon cookies were first written by @softest-punk and then brought to life by @carnelianmeluha; you can find the original fic and the recipe via this link One day I will brave my utter dearth of kitchen skill and make these myself. One day.

[twst-drabbles]

Scarabia 7

Summary: An iridescent feather was all it took for Kalim to pack up his bags and drag Jamil to the kingdom of the faeries. Jamil has trouble understanding this odd fascination he has. In fact, it’s almost scaring him a bit.

(Trust me when I say this AU has not been exiting my mind. It’s been floating around in there, but for some reason my fingers could not get it out. The fingers and brain would much rather churn out other things. Weird weird brain. Hate having to wrestle with it so. Also excuse the errors, I am kinda sleepy.)

From birth until death, Jamil will always be expected to entertain all of the wills and whimsies of Kalim. He cannot deny him any request if it is within his means, nor should he scorn him when he clearly is making mistakes. A servant, a guide, and a source of comfort all wrapped up in one. And all he has to do is keep this facade perfect until the day Kalim dies.

…what a joke, such a thing won’t happen. His services will likely be passed onto Kalim’s child, if he even makes it to that age. And if not his child, then the next sibling. Retirement is a dream meant for the privileged, and so long as those privileged few exist, Jamil will be made to serve them.

Jamil cannot ask too many questions, especially when it carries the possibility of offending the master.

He cannot ask Kalim of the origins of that iridescent feather. Cannot question why Kalim has spent the entire week simply gazing at it. Cannot even ask if he can look at it, no matter how familiar it may seem to him.

His dreams, they don’t matter, so he must always stifle them.

Clearly this wasn’t his place, and all Jamil can do is sigh in frustration when Kalim locked himself in his room. And sigh even deeper when Kalim burst out his room one day, claiming he wished to vacation in the main kingdom of faeries. Wanted to see the sight where the most beautiful feather came from.

And off they went on a personal caravan. And onto the dark stone they walk.

“And what will you do with this bird, if you end up finding it?”

How silly. Jamil already knows the answer to it already.

“Hmm? Ah, well I’m gonna keep it of course!” And the smile on Kalim’s face was as big as ever. Any wider and it would seem manic, but that’s simply the way his happiness works. He feels it in all of its intensity, even should it warp his features into something almost unplesant.

“Though, with how big of a cage you purchased, I’d predict I’ll have to take care of it sooner or later, won’t I?” As everything does. Cute novelties always lose their luster within half a year. Such was the fate of Kalim’s private zoo when he asked for it for his birthday. There were other servants to take care of it, but it never sit right with Jamil to just, let them do part of the work when he can perfectly take care of it himself.

That and his parents scolded him for daring to slack off, even though he pulled multiple muscles in his back. He could never quite lay back on his chair the same way ever since.

“Oh no, I don’t want you to touch them.”

Jamil stopped his tracks, the frankness of Kalim’s tone and the never wavering smile on his face almost had him believing he imagined it. “…Kalim?”

Kalim paused himself, blinking before his mind was pulled from his thoughts. He waved his hands, fumbling about in his nerves. “Ah, I’m sorry! That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“Whether it came out right or not doesn’t matter. If you don’t want me to touch your newest pet, then so it shall be,” Jamil shook his head, sighing out in hopes the urge to bit his lip will also pass.

“Sorry sorry…”

What Kalim doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The role of the perfect servant isn’t something that Jamil can simply be. It’s an act, a mask, and every so often Jamil has to pull it off.

Kalim was always a heavy sleeper, even more so when he’s been drinking from the various wines he had Jamil bring. Under the guise of some jovial fun, Jamil coaxed Kalim into drinking much more than usual. No thunderstorm would be able to wake him up. Kalim once almost drowned outside in a storm like that, napping without anything to protect him.

Jamil doesn’t sleep in the same room as Kalim, but here he was nonetheless. He took a glance to Kalim splayed out in his pile of pillows and blankets, sighed, then continued digging through the various bags and luggage.

Finally, Jamil’s fingers hit something. He pulled out a large, gold gilded, black box with a keyhole in it. He didn’t have to look for the key. It was tied with a silk ribbon right at the bottom of the box. Really, Kalim needs to be more careful, but Jamil certainly won’t tell him so. Perhaps later, but not now.

He opens the box and he was almost… disappointed at the sight. The feather was dull. All the rainbow light that would scatter upon the surface of the walls when daylight hit it wasn’t there. The plumes still pulsed with those delicate colors, but it didn’t hold the radiance that Jamil knows he saw when it was Kalim’s hands.

From his dreams, the shape was the same, and yet it was missing just about everything else. What was it, beyond its glow? The lack of numbers? The sturdy feeling of wings against his body? The face that was connected to it?

Face… what face? No matter how hard Jamil tried to claw through his memories, that face he wanted to see was no clearer.

Even with his disappointment, Jamil plucked the feather and held it in his hand.

Only then did its glow come back. A kaleidoscope of colors flowed forth and blinded Jamil’s unprepared eyes. He winced and held the feather to his chest, just in case it woke up Kalim.

He waited, but only heard a snort and a shifting. He’s still asleep.

Jamil blinked, tears dotting the corners of his eyes from the brightness of it all.

There it was, the beauty he’s been seeking, that Kalim had been hoarding all to himself.

How silly. How stupid to be so taken by a feather. To have this simple item that was nothing more than a gift from a pen pal to Kalim to haunt Jamil so. To haunt both of them, actually.

Even with all those reservations in mind, Jamil lifted that feather and laid a gentle kiss on the body. It felt nice, feeling the plumes brush against his lips.

…he should put this away and go to bed. Kalim must never know what he just did.

[hiseyebrowsaregone]

do you have a list of sterek fic you recommend most?

First I have no idea how long this has been here and I'm sorry that it has took me however long to answer, I never saw the ask before now!

Anyway your (long?) Awaited list!

Will to follow through by owlpostagain

| 2/2 | 42,411 | Teen and Up | Sterek |

“It depends entirely on how you look at it, I guess,” Stiles shrugs. “On the one hand, instant healing and the apparently inherited ability to pull off leather at all times. On the other, serious attitude problems and a suspicious disappearance of eyebrows.”

“Even Derek’s?” Danny snorts, “that’s a lot of eyebrow to lose.”

“I know,” Stiles agrees. “You should see, it’s so weird. Every time I want to ask him where they go, except he’d totally eat my face off.”

“There are worse ways to die.”

Here is the deepest secret nobody knows by owlpostagain

| 1/1 | 22,322 | Teen and Up | Sterek |

“Derek,” Stiles groans. “You have me. You’ve always had me, you absolute moron, how many physically impossible feats of life-saving heroics do I have to perform before you get it?”

The gift of death by Lalaith_Quetzalli

| 1/1 | 10,913 | Teen and Up | Sterek |

Stiles realizes he cannot trust Scott, he’s never trusted the Argents, and Derek tries but he cannot do it all alone. Which means that if he wants to stop the kanima before more people die, he’s going to have to step forward himself. It’s time everyone learns who Mieczyslaw ‘Stiles’ Stilinski truly is…

On jest słońcem (He Is The Sun) by haaaveyoumetted

| 3/3 | 6,166 | No rating | Sterek |

"AU where Stiles speaks in Polish to his dad

And maybe he talks to himself in Polish too

And maybe he talks about Derek a lot. Derek’s eyes. Derek’s shoulders. Derek’s adorable teeth. Derek’s arms. Derek Derek Derek

And maybe he has a nickname he calls Derek when he talks about him, because he could pick his own name out of a sentence and that would be embarrassing, right?

And maybe Derek understands every damn word, because you speak many languages Derek Hale

And maybe it kills Derek a little bit that Stiles hasn’t told him about this guy he talks about like he hung the moon. Maybe it kills Derek a little that it’s not him."

There Are No Wolves in California (Werewolves on the Other Hand...) By isthatbloodonhisshirt (wasterella) & KioFox

| 4/4 | 49,010 | mature | Sterek |

“I’m not calming down until you call animal control! I fucking saw it! There were fucking wolves!”

“There are no wolves in California, Mr. Daehler,” the principal said, sounding exasperated, like this was the third time she’d said it to him.

“Well clearly there are!” he shouted back, showing such a lack of respect for the woman, Stiles had to applaud her for her fortitude not to smack him in the face.

“Perhaps you were mistaken,” she said calmly.

“No I wasn’t fucking mistaken,” Matt insisted, sounding incensed. “No way these were dogs, they were massive!”

For a second, Stiles felt like the world had slowed considerably as those words wormed their way into his brain. Because—he knew a dog that was massive. Honestly, he’d also brushed away the idea of the dog being a wolf because there were no wolves in California.

But... what if there were?

Holy shit, had Stiles literally spent his lunch break with a fucking wolf cuddled into his side while he pet it?! Good God, he was lucky to still have all his limbs!

Go Away, Scott by HelloWhyTheFuckAmIHere

| 45/45 | 66,227 | No rating | Sterek |

After the incident at the warehouse, Stiles is fed up with Scott. He finds himself drawn into Derek’s pack and in the process, drawn to Derek himself.

With the Alpha Pack closing in, Derek needs to learn how to trust his pack and those around him. And who better to help him than Stiles?

I wanna hear (how your heart speaks) by LadySlytherin

| 25/25 | 97,791 | Explicit | Sterek |

When an attack on Derek leaves Stiles as collateral damage and causes him to lose his hearing, the Pack is at a loss. With the Alpha Pack to contend with and his wayward betas barely come to heel, Derek’s already got his hands full. He doesn't have time for an injured human teenager or his sheriff father. But Stiles is pack - something Derek has known for a while - with the potential to be even more. And Derek soon finds that Stiles is more of an asset than anyone realized, even with his new limitations.

As for Stiles, he's about to find out that sometimes when you lose one thing, you gain so much more.

[jaelaxies]

𝐩𝐫𝐟𝐜𝐭

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

fluff; wc: 726.

Jay x fem reader!; Band au!; Guitarist Jay au!; Bassist reader!; College au!; tw: some mild cursing.

Song recommendation: Gorgeous —Taylor Swift (reputation)

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

Ever since I knew him, he always had me on edge. I could never decipher that flirty smile and those damned dimples; 99% of the time, I was bewitched by him and his demeanor, just like everyone else. Jay just had this aura about him, that made him fit in, made everyone fall under this imaginary spellbound that was so strong that even I, a skeptic of it, fell for. It put me in quite the dilemma dare I say. Being in a band with him just made everything feel like I was starring in some dramatic, coming of age, romantic kind of cliché movie.

Of course, Jay was charming by his looks: he had beautiful golden kissed tan skin, sharp jawline and matching features but what attracted people the most was his smile. Even I was trapped in the same cage. But even so...

There were things about Jay that people seemed to take for granted; like his kindness, the dimples when he laughed hard about some shitty joke that anyone would make or the way his soul just seemed to belong on stage. He was born a performer, when he was on stage or practicing: he was as passionate as if it was a real deal. I admired him from afar, wondering how people couldn’t take all of those things as perfection.

And in one afternoon rehearsal, I think I got my answer.

—Do you know that your brain automatically reads things even if they are spelled incorrectly? — Said Heeseung as he was adjusting the mic, just testing the sound but really the question was directed at whoever paid him attention.

—Just like how Jay is “prfct”

Sunoo replied while writing it on the board and nudging said man while doing so. I finally looked up at started listening more attentively to what they were chatting about; almost immediately our eyes met each other and for one reason I cannot decipher right now, I just locked my gaze with his, again, wondering what his next move could be. I always wanted to test him and I didn’t know why.

—No one is perfect. — I said, while tilting my head a little; trying my best to not sound rude while still looking at him. For the first time, I could sense curiosity slippering through his orbs like a ray of lightning— If we all settled out for perfection, we would all settle for an incredibly stupid and unreachable goal.

For a split second, the room fell silent and then I saw the most unexpected reaction from the guys. Sunoo and Heeseung were smiling and nodding and… so was Jay, but the way he had a full grin on his face and was scratching his neck, who was slightly red in tone, was completely out of character for him.

—What? — I said, almost wanting to apologize if I ruined the mood or spoke harshly without really thinking about his feelings.

—It’s because I knew you would say that. It's the way you are...— Jay said, getting out of the grip that Sunoo had on him and walked to where I was, sitting right next to me; far away enough from me to count his lashes and notice a different spark in the way his eyes shone. — Perfect isn’t your thing, sweetheart.

He tilted his head, and I could see a slight blush forming on the tip of his ears but he was still smiling like he had just found a diamond in a pile of rocks. Again, I was holding my breath and my palms became sweaty; surely my face was flushed pink too. — That’s one of the reasons I like you.

I sat there speechless; for the first time, I got the unfamiliar sensation of roaming butterflies in my whole ribcage and dumbfounded, I looked down. Having my question finally answered by none other than myself.

Perfect wasn’t my thing because Jay was.

I didn’t set a standard for him like I had with everyone because at the end of the day I would always like this Jay; no matter how much questions I tried to ask myself I would always get the same answer: Perfect or not, it was Just Jay who I liked.

And smiling like an idiot there I sat, realizing that he had just reciprocated a feeling I didn’t even knew I had.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

OH BOY THE CONFIDENCE THE AURA IN THIS ERA BY JAY IS NO JOKE

also sorry if it felt too short i wanted to dust my keyboard first, jk i will try to make even better stories that's why im diving into different formats.

I had this idea in the back of my head for quite a bit after seeing the styling and the stages for sweet venom (certified platinum bop) but then moving out of town hit me like a truck and I was like oh well, but now:

we are officially back everyone!!!

 I would like to thank everyone who has been supporting my works and kindly liking them or just reblogging them, it makes me really happy and motivated; also, don’t be shy, if you wanna be moots just send an ask 🤍

My taglist is also open; you can request via ask to be added to the taglist of my masterlist or just any post I make!

As always, feedback is really appreciated and I’ll love if you could reblog or comment if you really liked this one!

With love, *°࿐Stella🤍

[kneelingshadowsalome]

Salome....the poly AU.........I literally have worms in the brain I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT ITTTT!! When you first posted about it I was like hmmm idk if this is really my cup of tea? I can't imagine Konig being able to share Engel with anyone else.

But then I read it and I??? I short-circuited and died and went to heaven. I'm telling you - literal WORMS in the brain.

I didn't even know this was something I was into till NOW. The idea of two cute girls being equally as obsessed with each other as they are with Konig??? And them all living together as one big happy (and slightly insane) family?? 😭😭😭 And DON'T even get me started on that ask you recently answered about him wanting to knock them both up at the same time 😭😭 my heart (and 🐱) can't handle it.

But listen, I really like the idea of bestie being the love interest from the shy!feral!AU. The idea of Konig (heavy on Konig) and Engel slowly pspspspsing her into a relationship with them is such delicious thought. I'm a SUCKER for slow burns, and Konig having to work EXTRA hard and be EXTRA patient to get her to accept him?? Dudeee. I'm imagining feral!Bestie would already be pretty comfortable with Engel (considering they're both women, are already friends, have similar interests, etc..) but Konig?? Nuh-uh, not yet. I imagine that she's relatively wary about men in general, but Konig's cockiness, energy, and dominating personality makes her even MORE skittish around him. Eventually she'll come around, with Engel's cooing and coaxing + Konig's awkward, yet endearing, courting gestures (plus she wants to see what he's packing in those pants but hey that's not important).

Eventually when she DOES enter a relationship with them, and subsequently, jump into bed with them, I think it's gonna have to happen with baby steps. By baby-steps (maybe not that babyish of a step hehe) I mean it'll probably be her and Engel on the bed, naked, doing all sorts of fun things like touching, kissing, grinding etc BUTTTTTTT the deal is that Konig has to sit in the corner and watch. Like sorry bud, Engels gotta make sure Bestie is acclimated and comfortable first before you can jump in!! You're gonna have to sit this out (for now) >:3 sorryyyyyy!

Granted, I'm not sure how he'd react to such a proposition, considering he's only allowed to be a spectator, but I think the sight of Engel and feral!Bestie kissing/touching/feeling each other up while making eye contact and moaning about how good the other one feels???? Yeah, no, he's gonna pass out and die. How did he simultaneously get both so cursed and so lucky? Of course they're partially doing all this just to tease him, but imagine them upping the stakes and telling him that if he so much as tries to touch/relieve himself they'll stop altogether??

Sorry I know I've already gone on a rant and should wrap it up soon but the thought of Bestie being seated in Engel's lap, legs wide open on display for Konig, being fingered and kissed by Engel? AND THEM BOTH MAKING EYE CONTACT WITH KONIG WHILE DOING IT????? AND HE'S NOT ALLOWED TO TOUCH HIMSELF????

Nope, he's a goner. He's dead. His dick is gonna explode. Hell, I'M dead too.

Sorry for the rant but this AU has seriously bewitched me - mind, body, and soul!!

I have nothing to add, really, just wanted to set this thing free because it's so beautiful and pure 😭😭😭🩷

[vylad243]

My plans for RABH

I cannot deny that Rainstorms is loved by many and it is my anti-stress book. So it gets updated usually when I need it to update, but I imagine my radio silence probably has sparked a bit of unease and worry about the new series, so I'm here to confirm my plans with Rainstorms

1. It will be an actual series with a sequel and asks fic requests for specifically Rainstorms will be canon to the series

2. It is not going away! Rainstorms is my baby and it helps I can treat it as that. With amor ending, I wanted something else to work on. (I'm always working on like 3 larger chapter books and like 70 one-shots. It helps my brain bounce around)

3. The entire series will be sex-free and the sexual topics will not be brought up as much like in AMOR

4. Alastor is sex-repulsed and romance-neutral in the human au- just getting that out there lol

5. Valentino and Velvette are not going to be villians at all. I will create my own and add suspense throughout series. Some names might be familiar

6. Angel is around Hudk's age because they were both born in like the 1920s and technically he's older than Valentino. A lot of people portray him as younger, so that might be something you guys want to get used to

7. I plan to reuse as many characters as I can, but Charlie and Vaggie are heaven and hell-born and will not be making an appearance, sorry :( Hell and heaven still exists in the series

I'm more than happy to answer any asks without spoilering anything major (like 'does Blair die?' Or something along those lines

[amphiptere-art]

I just want to apologize to the general following. Whether you are a mutual or follower. ADHD sporadic hyperfocus is a lovely goddamn thing.

So yes, I technically stopped watching Tsams for my own health. And although I said I wasn't leaving the fandom. Without the daily uploads to keep my brain on it. It unfortunately fades.

For your little knowledge. I have something called hyperfixation. Where I will focus on a little thing a lot. This combined with my lovely ADHD. Means that that hyperfocus shifts near constantly. Without something to keep me grounded to a specific topic. There is a very high likelihood that I will move on to the next one.

Which is unfortunately happening.

The silky star cluster is still on my brain. But a lot of my other AUs aren't. A combined fact of just people not having anything to ask about them, and me not being able to come up with scenarios. Which is unfortunately causing my brain to try and latch on with anything that it can define as current and fun. This is unfortunately hurting my focus on the sulky star cluster.

If perhaps I had more of my ask blogs getting stuff, or even just a general bigger audience on the silky star cluster. Perhaps I could focus on it better. But as of right now. Well. It's not there.

What is on the forefront of my mind is Dim. Hollow Knight, And perhaps iron lung and alien worlds. Only one of these is connected to the FNAF fandom. And none of them are connected to tsams.

I am desperately attempting to focus back on Tsams. But with no roleplay asks to answer, and no role plays of my own to ask. There is nothing but the sulky star cluster keeping me attached. Which is unfortunately not a lot.

It's 4 grumpy eclipses and a single bear grumping around. There isn't really a story or narrative. It's a collection of snippets. There's a reason I don't talk about it outside of roleplay or ask scenarios. Because it's literally just a collection of scenarios.

I don't want to lose this fandom. I still love the fandom. But I cannot deny that I am fighting my instincts to just try and hold on. My sporadic hyperfocus just isn't working with me. There's no new or fun scenarios to think of. There's no responses to complete, and the sulky star cluster is only being really entertained by one person. Plus the burnout is high with the sulky star cluster. Talking for five characters that ramble?? I can only get through like maybe one or five asks before I just want to sit down and stop thinking about it. Plus the fact that I'm trying to force myself to draw and slow down.

I'm trying my guys. I am trying so hard to focus on what all of you are entertained by. That Tsams community. But I'm struggling all right.

In a desperate attempt I'm going to try and latch on to Dim and DCA centered AUs and characters. It's not exactly Tsams, But it's probably the closest I'm going to get. Characters like Blue Moon and runaway Eclipse Of course interact with these characters on The daily. That's the whole point of the RBB adventures of the cube. It's a place where you can ask those characters while still interacting on a level with Tsams. But no one's put asks into those in months. And I feel like asking for asks is intrusive.

[imreallyloveleee]

for @auroraworldtourftbughead who asked about my "road trip to ohio" fic: ok so this is a s5 au that i started writing back in Feb/Mar. it picks up a few weeks after they find Polly's body, ie at the point in the show where it became extremely clear that they were just dropping the arc they'd been building for Betty & Jughead and veering off in another nonsensical direction. i really want to finish this one and correct the sins of late s5, lol. (and i just miss jughead's family!) here is a snippet from the beginning of the story:

It’s just past eight in the evening. She’s dragging the trash bins from the garage out to the sidewalk for tomorrow morning’s pickup when she sees him standing in the driveway next door, struggling to wrestle an oversized duffle bag into the storage compartment of his motorcycle.

“Jug. Hey.” She’s already halfway across the yard between their houses by the time he notices her. His eyes soften from surprise to mild concern as she approaches.

“Hey. How are you holding up?”

Betty mulls for a moment over her response. It’s a fair question to ask someone three weeks after they found their sister’s body rotting in the trunk of a rusting, broken junkyard sedan. She doesn't especially want to answer; she's just tired of coming up with ways to change the subject.

Thankfully the scene she's stumbled upon makes it easy. She gestures to the bag. "Hanging in there. What’s this?”

Jughead sighs, giving the duffel bag another half-hearted shove, to no avail. “I’m heading to Ohio for JB’s graduation.”

Recognition flickers dimly in her memory. He’d mentioned this to her weeks ago, when they were deep in investigation mode, one of probably a thousand things he’d said that had filtered in and out of her brain like water through a sieve. She’d said something like oh, my god, she’s graduating already? we’re so old! in response, and then promptly returned to obsessing over their latest clue in the hunt for the highway killer.

“But I guess the gift I got her is too big for this stupid thing –” 

“You’re driving all the way to Ohio on a motorcycle?” she interrupts. “In the middle of the night? Isn’t that, like, a seven hour drive?”

He shifts his gaze away from her, towards the Andrews house, which she interprets as yes, I know this is a dumb fucking idea and no, I don’t want to talk about it. 

After the last few months she's had, she can relate.

“It’s tomorrow,” he says. “I was supposed to leave yesterday, but – I kind of got distracted, with everything that’s been going on.” 

Betty tries not to react to that. He must mean “everything” that’s been going on with Tabitha – her parents’ arrival in town, their burgeoning relationship. Kevin had seen them out at a restaurant together with the Tates, holding hands at the dinner table. Betty wishes they’d just make it public already, post a couple's photo on Instagram or something. It’s getting uncomfortable, pretending she doesn’t know.

He's muttering to himself, hoisting the duffel bag out of the storage compartment and onto his shoulder. "Maybe if I repack this into a backpack instead…"

“You can take my car, if you want,” she offers, and then, without allowing herself to actually consider what she’s proposing, adds, “Or…I could come with you.”

Jughead freezes, his eyes darting from her face to her car where it sits in the opposite driveway, and then back again. “Oh, no – I couldn’t ask –” 

“We could tag-team the driving. And I’d love to see JB and your dad, and…everyone.” She doesn’t actually know if Gladys is still in the picture or not. “To be honest, I – I really need to get out of this house for a few days.”

She knows how she sounds: desperate. But she also knows that if anyone in her life can come anywhere close to understanding what this is like – what it means to be the child of a parent who is a walking, weeping open wound, a gaping hole of need that cannot possibly be filled – it’s Jughead. 

(And she feels guilty for thinking of her grieving mother in those terms, she really does, but the truth is she’s suffocating. Put on your own oxygen mask first, Dr. Glass told her all those years ago. It was just about the only useful thing he'd imparted to her in a cumulative sixteen hours of therapy, other than a prescription for Adderall.) 

“At least take the car,” she insists. “You can’t even fit your stuff in here.”

Jughead’s lips press together. His eyes flit back towards the house again – only the garage light is on, which is where he’s been staying. “You’re sure you want to sit in a car with me for seven hours? I’ve got terrible taste in music.”

Her face breaks out into a tremulous smile. It feels weird, but good – the first uncontrolled display of emotion she’s had in weeks that wasn’t borne of despair. 

“I’m sure.” 

[19-1-20-25-18]

Hi again, this time I'll write in English so you don't have to do extra work and translate if you wish to write a reply

I have no idea what that ask was about, but the whole "it almost seems like Bill's diagnosis defines his personality" got my head spinning. Like. I get it so much, why someone else might start thinking such things. People who have BPD don't even know what defines their personality themselves sometimes. Are we just in a bad mood for a reason, or is this happening again? Are we feeling not loved enough because we really aren't, or is our brain trying to trick us in order to milk out some extra attention from our loved ones? Are we really jerks? Are we good people who just need help? Do we really need help or just playing pretend? Who are we, really. A man. A triangle. An idea trapped inside a body. A pile of cosmic dust tangled up with emotions. It might seem very complicated and crazy to an outsider. And it's awfully hard to maintain a stable relationship while being this messed up. I know this by experience.

To sum up... I personally think you're nailing it. To me, in-canon Bill and Ford are a bit different, but in this specific AU you've created? This is exactly what it feels like in real life. So thanks for shaping those feelings into words. And don't worry about someone out there who doesn't quite understand. ´Cause there are also others who do.

Words cannot describe what I am feeling now after reading your text. You have put so many feelings and emotions into such a small text. It took me a long time to gather my thoughts and answer you, because it hurt me in a good way.

My goal was to show what it's like to live with people who have BPD. And no, they are not tyrants at all, as some are trying to show them. You understand this perfectly well, because you know how it's like. I understand this because I how it's like. I want more people to understand this. If touching my sketch on the last page, you can see how Ford's nose is bleeding, but he doesn't pay attention to it. He understood that Bill is much worse now, and he needs his help. With hug, he wanted to take away all the pain Bill is experiencing and calm his raging and uncontrollable emotions, closing him off from the outside world. It seemed to me that this is exactly what most people with BPD want. To have someone share the pain you're going through. Thank you for your question. I will read your text over and over again. You conveyed these emotions so well, you reflected struggles of people with BPD so well.

[ladyknightellen]

Last week I got tagged by @benwvatt and @littlemisskittentoes so I’m using those this week! Thanks for tagging me!!! 🥰

Here’s a bit from my Grey’s Anatomy au that demands a tiny bit of context if you’ve been following along my disjointed, chaotic posts about this wildly unhinged crossover.

So basically, Henry and Alex are interns at Seattle-Grace (we’re in season one-ish but I’m playing fast and loose with timelines). They are still firstprince in this au, but with a major twist. Alex is somewhat estranged from Ellen and he uses only his dad’s last name professionally. No one knows who Henry is, they only know him as Henry Bennet (because if Henry was undercover he would totally use a Jane Austen name and you cannot convince me otherwise)

So aaaaaaanyways, on to the snippet! (As always, don’t count those sentences, it’s seven if I say it is.)

“Hey Henry, are you busy next weekend?”“Good morning to you too Alex,” Henry says drily, but Alex doesn’t rise to the bait, he just stands there looking impatient waiting for Henry to answer the question. Henry shakes his head and lets out a sigh that’s half amused and half exasperated.

“No Alex, I’m not busy next weekend. Why do you ask?”

“Because my sister is getting married and I would rather die than see the headline Alex Claremont-Diaz Goes Stag To Sister’s Wedding.”

“You want me to be your date to your sister’s wedding?”

“Yes Henry, keep up.” Henry feels like his brain is running an error message and a system warning all at the same time. Alex wants him to be his date to his sister’s wedding? There will be press and headlines about said wedding and the high profile guests in attendance, particularly the President estranged son, headlines that he will be included in if he goes as Alex’s date. Should he risk it? Probably not, but he’s too far gone on this man to be cautious now.

“Alright, I’ll do it, but under one condition. I want you to use my middle name, James. Don’t call me Henry under any circumstances while we’re there.” Alex looks like he wants to ask a million questions. He’s studying Henry like he’s a riddle, and to Alex, he probably is. There have been several moments like this in the time they’ve known each other. Alex is too perceptive not to have noticed that something about didn’t add up, but so far he hasn’t challenged him on it. He’s thinking his luck might have finally run out, but then Alex just shrugs.

“Alright then, James, will you be my date to the wedding?”

[kisstuals]

au revoir. jisung x gn!reader wc 1.2k | fluff, bff2l | no warnings

“So… you’ll come visit me, right?” Jisung finally breaks the silence, his soft voice speaking from beside you. 

You stare at the gravel underneath your battered sneakers, moving your feet to kick a few pebbles. The pavement feels hot underneath your body, as you're seated with your best friend of five years on the sidewalk, waiting for his cab to arrive and take him away.

You want to say yes, you really do, but frankly you are not sure if you’ll be able to. Seeing Jisung move away is difficult as it is, but your sadness has been exacerbated by the unexpected and unwelcome realization that you’re hopelessly in love with him.

Only recently have you come to terms with it, thanks to the help of numerous coffees and reassuring promises to call from Jisung. Your adoration for him has been safely and soundly tucked away, something you do not want to uncover any time soon. So while meeting him in his new city would be wonderful, you don’t doubt that, having to say goodbye all over would only make all those feelings come rushing back.

Jisung’s expectant smile tugs at your heart and you cannot avoid his glance any longer. Yet, his smile is not enough for you to let a lie slip between your lips. “I- I don’t know.”

Just as his smile falls from his face, the evening sky morphs into darkness, pricking your skin with the cool breeze. “(Name)… please.” For your own sake, you pretend as if you do not hear his voice break. “I just- I just want to know that I’ll be able to see you again.”

“Your cab is here,” you tell him, seeing a vehicle pull into your street. He doesn’t budge, poking your arm once, twice, and thrice before you finally look at him again. 

“Can you at least think about it?” You know he only means well and that he wouldn’t force you to meet him, but you realize that just like you, he is holding onto this friendship as best as he can. Only his way of dealing with it is facing it head on, while you simply want to run away. 

“I will,” you assure him, your eyes locking with his own as you feel bumps forming on your forearms. His gaze would always have that effect on you.

The cab finally parks in front of his house, where you and him slowly stand up. He grabs his suitcases, ready to leave, but turns back to you one last time. “(Name),” your name drops from his lips like a sweet melody. “You’re my best fri- you’re really special to me. I’m going to miss you, a lot.” 

You smile back at him, unable to form a proper goodbye yourself, choosing to wave at him instead as he gets into the cab. You could not put into words how much you’d miss him as well, your best fri—

He hesitated from calling you his friend.

Pondering over Jisung’s choice of words, you quickly drop your hand. You have a tendency to overthink, perhaps an unhealthy amount, but as you watch Jisung’s cab disappear from your line of vision, you wonder if you also mean something more to him. 

But it is too late now, he is gone and even if you manage to let him know, leaving is inevitable. You could never ask him to stay anyway, especially not for you. At least, that is what the more rational part of your brain says.

Elsewhere, the inner workings of your mind are doing wonders to convince you that going after him was the best thing you could do. That you have nothing to lose at this point, and that you should at least let him now.

So, before you can rationalize any further, you reach for your phone and quickly tap on Jisung’s contact. 

He answers within a second. “Hey, is everything okay?” 

Well, no, nothing is okay, but you cannot really tell him that. Maybe you should have actually thought about what you would say before calling him. Then at least you would be freezing up, racking your brain for an appropriate way to confess your feelings for him.

“Um, well yeah, but…” Gosh, you sound unbelievably stupid when you’re nervous.

“(Name)?” Jisung chuckles, but you can hear the concern lacing his voice.

“You, um left something behind.” 

“What? What did I leave behind? I thought I grabbed everything…” He murmurs, and you can almost imagine him scratching his head while looking around. 

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it—

“... my heart?” And you said it. You had managed to sound even more stupid, if possible. Regret washes over you as you wince at your own words, dreading Jisung’s reply. If he had any feelings for you earlier, they must be gone after that.

“No, don’t worry, I have it.” He pauses, before lowering his voice. “But I left mine behind for you.” You let out an embarrassingly audible gasp, wondering if you heard him wrong, if he actually reciprocated your confession. 

“What?”

“What?” He repeats your words before you hear the line go completely blank, leaving you in pure confusion. You ignore how your hands are shaking as you wait in complete silence under the twilight sky, hoping that Jisung will call you back or at least text you.

He doesn’t do either. Instead, you look up to find his cab pulling back into the street. The door swings open, revealing a red-faced, huffing and puffing Jisung with the brightest smile on his face. His hair is a disheveled mess, wondering what you put him through in the three minutes you had been apart.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you gonna be late for your flight—”

“Can I kiss you?” He says between breaths, eyes not leaving your lips for even a second.

You get over your shock fairly quickly, knowing that if you did not take up his offer now, perhaps you’d never get a second chance. Here he was, the love of your life and your best friend, standing in front of you to ask you the question that had been lingering in your mind for weeks now.

“Yes, please.” And without skipping a beat, his lips find your own. His palms are pressed firmly against the back of your neck, as if you might slip away, and you can’t help but melt into his touch. 

You unknowingly smile into the kiss, and you feel Jisung doing the same. “Gosh, I’ve been wanting to kiss you for quite a while now,” you say against his lips, before pulling him into another quick kiss.

“Me too,” he reveals as he wraps his arms around you in a hug.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner, you idiot?” You whine into his sweater. “I can’t believe you’re going to leave me now after kissing me like that.”

“Well, why didn’t you?” He counters amusedly, before changing his tone to match yours. “I can’t believe you’re going to let me go after kissing me like that.” Jisung laughs as you pinch him in the waist, tightening his grip around you as you continue to whine. Now that you are in his arms, he is sure that he will never let anything separate you.

Except, the honking of the cab of course. You had almost forgotten about the poor driver who was probably tired of waiting around for him. Jisung looks at the cab, before glancing back at you with a sad smile. 

“Go on.” Jisung nods at your words, kissing you one last time before getting into the cab. “I’ll be right here, waiting for you.”

© kisstuals, 2022

[dumpsterfireofsubtext]

Those were the two points that made me come to terms with the open ending you wrote. And it's glorious and painful both, at once. Your art moved me in a way no other story had done so far, it reached into my psyche and pulled a cord that is still taut and the snap it caused reverberated in me. You and me thinking about how love is always going to be complicated for them, about why an open ending left me in such an emotional place, about god and divinity and my own relationship to those concepts. Which talking about it would be another wall of text, so I'm gonna wrap it up. Thank you, thank you thank you so much sincerely. You gifted me a story that shook me, that has a personal meaning. And made me look at a couple issues about myself that I keep working on, topics of love, god, truth, the alchemy that is being loved by someone special and the possibility that letting go is the end of the road sometimes. But theirs is an open ending, as such I'll have to work hard to make my brain picture what could happen. To find the possibility under that bell curve that makes the most sense to who they are. I'm so sorry for clogging your ask box this way 😭 I could have written this dumb essay on ao3, but for some reason I do feel that reaching out through Tumblr is almost like knocking on the actual door of your house and drop by to say 'hello your art has touched me deeply, thank you' I sincerely hope none of the various parts of this ask are lost by Tumblr's system (it has happened to me sometimes) and lastly, your story moved me in a way that's made decide to try my hand at writing for them. Maybe I'll write my personal end to your story, if only for myself. I'm sure I will be bad at it, but they have taken hold of my brain and won't let go until I puke out whatever they want me to. Thanks for your story and your vision for it, you are insanely talented, this fandom is lucky to have you. If you want to publish all parts of my ask publicly it's ok, and if not that's ok too

This ask is in regards to my Avatrice Wings of desire AU (becasue i'm structuring this ask weirdly)

First off, thank you!! It took me a while to respond to this simply because I was figuring out just how exactly to respond. It'll probably be a bit unorthodox but I'm going to respond to your penultimate ask and paste your other ones in if anybody else wants to read through them and get a little context. 

To be frank, I’m pleased my fic gave you such a visceral reaction. I knew people were going to have mixed feelings over it, but I never intended for the ending to be easy, though I’d like to think it's not such a devastating open ending, but fairly hopeful. It’s so interesting to see people connect with my writing on a personal level (I also had a relationship that ended weirdly. The feelings were there but the circumstances were, quite frankly, dog shit. It didn’t work out, and you're right: those partings are always worse). 

Also, don’t apologise for sending me such a long ask! It was all so fascinating and really made me think. I had to read your comments a few times over to really appreciate the beautiful points you were making :) very interesting stuff.

In regards to this ask (which is long and wouldn't fit into one screen shot):

I’m so so so pleased because it seems like you’ve really grasped and understood the version of Ava and Beatrice I was angling for. This ask specifically… i think you really nailed what i was going for, and nailed Ava and Bea’s characterisations in general. This line particularly:

 “Ava did exactly what she was going to do. Keep trying to outrun her pain, with or without Bea. And Bea would stay behind because she's her own person, the person Ava helped to develop, and thanks to her she has the strength to say I cannot follow this time.”

And to answer this ask! All is not lost, an epilogue is still on the cards!

And in regards to your own endeavours, the first step to writing is just banging something out on a page and pushing through the discomfort of trying something new. I salute you on your journey :)

Thank you so much for such a thought out response to my work. It means so so much to me that I've written something that warrants this kind of response, truly I'm profoundly touched.

I really really appreciate people who not only comment on ao3, but also take the time to send me such thoughtful asks here on tumblr (you're right, it does sort of feel like knocking at my front door hehe)

Thank you, friend <3 I’m honoured that my work has touched you like this :’)