#i'm slowly gathering my thoughts and notes about this au

[aamaranthiine]

Seafoam Dreams A summary of Amalthea's AU verse for One Piece. tagged as: ☪v: seafoam dreams sub-verses: sands of silver and gold || the lion's gilded cage. note: sub-verses are established and separate storylines within the one piece canon for select mutuals of mine. all other threads within this au are still separate from each other unless otherwise discussed.

Amalthea originally hails from a sky island that once orbited the Red Line and the North Blue, where she was born and raised in a small community consisting of a melting pot of Lunarian individuals, avian minks and humans. It was peaceful and reasonably self sufficient, though her memories of her birthplace are long faded by the current canon.

At the age of fifteen, her island was ransacked and her family either killed or captured by the Government for use in experimentats on those of Lunarian blood. Amalthea escaped and ended up on what is in current times Rubeck Island of the North Blue. It was there she found and ate her devil fruit before being adopted into the kingdom that made the island their home.

For just around ten years, she was kept safe by the people and the royal family. Until circumstances arose that once again attracted the attention of the World Government, whose assault on the island forced her to flee into the Blue.

This becomes a pattern throughout her life; she had to learn to be elusive, keep secrets, how to hide and protect herself. How to weave the most believable lies. Even the seemingly most mundane people could not be trusted, for the fear they would be complicit in allowing the Navy to find her trail again.

At current canon, pre and post timeskip, Amalthea has been alive for over 350 years. That is a lot of history to cover but suffice to say, she is a master at surviving on her own and avoiding unwanted attention most of the time. She has taken her time to travel all four Blues and the Grand Line, exploring the far corners of the world in her search for safe havens, knowledge and useful connections. There have been portions of Time throughout the decades she has spent hidden entirely from people; to cope with the burdens of immortality, she shuts herself away to sleep or to exist outside of her humanity.

For the present day, she tends to go by the alias Thea and is known throughout underground and black market channels by the alias Luna. She is a freelance cartographer (mapmaker), navigator and log pose artificer. It is usually her and a few others work that supply poses for pirates and other non-Government affiliated individuals traveling the Grand Line and the New World. She has many contacts and connections throughout the world, and tends to maintain a neutral alignment when dealing with pirates.

The nature of her Lunarian heritage is kept very well hidden; as with no wings and no soul-flame visible, she easily passes as human. Her mythical zoan devil fruit is also kept secret, or passed off as a different type altogether through half-truths and selective use of her Ability. Her presence to those with keen Observation haki lends to the idea she is only a civilian, and never anything close to a threat.

All of course, a masterfully crafted ruse to protect herself.

[atzaurora]

Can I ask for a Yeosang x reader where he follows her after concert and wants to take her on a date( she's a fan) and so on the date someone spills a sticky drink so he takes her back to the hotel and let's her shower but brings her clothes and it's gets smutty from when she walks out in just his shirt and panties

[˗ˏˋ ´ˎ˗] spilled

❥ 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒆𝒓: Yeosang

➤ 𝒑𝒂𝒊𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈: fem!fan!reader x idol!yeosang

➤ 𝒕𝒚𝒑𝒆: imagine (smut)

➤ 𝒓𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑: strangers to lovers, fan x idol au

.ᐟ.ᐟ𝒘𝒂𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔.ᐟ.ᐟ: 18+/smut/suggestive content, MDNI!!! manual sex, unprotected sex, m & f receiving

➤ 𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: Her bias asking Y/N out after the concert was definitely not her plan, but she was more than happy that this was how her evening was going. On the date someone accidentally spills a drink on her dress. Yeosang takes her to his hotel to take a shower, but things take a quick turn after she walks out wearing only his t-shirt.

➤ 𝒘/𝒄: 2.8k

➤ 𝒂/𝒏: I hope you like how it turned out! it might be a bit rushed in some parts but I tried my best :3 I'm working on all of you guy's requests so be a bit patient please, writing takes a lot of time sometimes.

if you have any ideas or wishes let me know, requests are open

here's my [𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕]!

[𝒓𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕] here!

[about me] + [guidelines]!

Thousands of fans had gathered under the vast canopy of the stadium, their excitement palpable as the night sky darkened above them. The stage stood like a gleaming fortress of lights and screens, a beacon of anticipation that drew everyone’s eyes forward. You stood near the bottom of the stage, your heart pounding as you waited patiently for Ateez’s performance to begin.

The venue was enormous, a cavernous space that hummed with the collective energy of fans whose anticipation filled every corner. The walls seemed to vibrate with the echoes of chatter and excitement, creating an atmosphere that was both electrifying and overwhelming. Clutched tightly in your hand was your prized possession—a VIP pass that had cost you a small fortune, but promised an evening you would never forget. Your heart drummed in your chest, its rhythm growing louder with every passing second.

Finally, the lights dimmed, and the crowd’s chatter transformed into a deafening roar of cheers. The giant screens flickered to life, casting their glow over the darkened stadium, and the members of Ateez emerged from the shadows, their faces a blend of fierce determination and playful smiles. The beat dropped, and the crowd surged forward like a tidal wave, sweeping you along with it.

Your gaze locked onto Yeosang, your bias, as he took his place in the spotlight. He was a vision—every movement precise, every note flawless. His warm brown eyes scanned the crowd, and for a brief, electrifying moment, they met yours. Time seemed to freeze as he held your gaze, and in that instant, it felt as if he had reached out and touched you, making a silent promise that would soon be kept.

After the concert, as the crowd began to disperse, the adrenaline still thrummed in your veins. You lingered, watching as fans slowly made their way out of the venue, your thoughts a whirlwind of emotions. Then, in a moment that seemed too surreal to be true, you saw Yeosang making his way through the throngs of fans, his eyes searching. It was a daring move, one that could have easily gone unnoticed, but the universe had other plans.

He spotted you standing alone amid the remnants of the concert—discarded merchandise, half-eaten snacks, and empty water bottles scattered across the floor. He approached with the confident stride of someone who knew exactly what he wanted, his presence magnetic.

"Excuse me," he said, his voice cutting through the lingering noise of the stadium like a gentle caress. "Would you like to go out for dinner with me?"

You blinked, your mind struggling to process what was happening. Did Yeosang, the idol you had admired from afar, just ask you out?

"Are you serious?" you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, your heart threatening to burst out of your chest.

A soft chuckle escaped Yeosang’s lips, his smile widening as he noticed the flush spreading across your cheeks.

"I know it’s sudden," he admitted, his tone warm and sincere. "But I’ve been wanting to get to know you better. Tonight felt... different."

Your breath caught in your throat, and before you could think twice, you nodded, your nerves giving way to a flutter of excitement. "Yes, I’d love to."

His smile deepened, and he extended his hand toward you, his fingers brushing yours in a way that sent a jolt of electricity through your body. "Great," he said, his voice laced with anticipation."Come with me."

With your hand in his, Yeosang led you through the backstage maze to a waiting car. The ride to the restaurant was a blur, filled with nervous laughter and stolen glances. The tension in the car was thick, but it was a tension that felt charged with possibility. Every time you caught his eye, your heart skipped a beat.

The restaurant he brought you to was a hidden gem, tucked away from the bustling city streets. It was the kind of place where stars dined in peace, shielded from prying eyes by the cozy, intimate atmosphere. As you were seated at a candlelit table in a secluded corner, you couldn’t help but marvel at the surreal nature of the evening.

The food was exquisite, each dish more delicious than the last, but it was the conversation that truly captivated you. Yeosang was attentive, his gaze never leaving yours as he asked about your life, your dreams, and your aspirations.

"So," he said, leaning forward slightly, his eyes full of genuine curiosity, "what’s something you’ve always wanted to do but never had the chance to?" Caught off guard by the question, you paused, considering your answer.

"I’ve always wanted to travel," you confessed. "There’s so much of the world I haven’t seen yet." A thoughtful smile played on his lips. "Where would you go first?" You smiled back, feeling a warmth spread through you at his interest.

"Maybe Europe," you said. "Italy, specifically. The history, the culture, the food... It’s been a dream of mine for as long as I can remember." "Sounds like a perfect destination," Yeosang said, his voice laced with admiration.

"I’ve been there a couple of times for work, but I’d love to go back just to explore, to really experience it." His gaze softened as he added, "Maybe one day we could go together."

The implication of his words made your heart race. After some more talking you excused yourself to go to the bathroom, but fate played a cruel trick. As you stood to leave, someone bumped into you, sending their drink splashing down the front of your dress. You gasped, the sudden coldness of the liquid soaking through the fabric and embarrassment flooded your senses.

"Oh no," you muttered, your cheeks burning as you tried to dab at the stain with a napkin. But the damage was done, and the wetness seeped into the delicate material of your dress.

Yeosang’s reaction was immediate and comforting. "Hey, don’t worry about it," he said, his voice full of reassurance. Without a moment’s hesitation, he added, "Let’s get you cleaned up. My hotel is just around the corner. You can shower and change there."

Your heart raced with a mix of gratitude and nerves. "Are you sure? I don’t want to be a bother." "It’s no bother at all," he replied with a gentle smile. "Come on, I insist."

The ride to his hotel was short, but the tension between you two had grown, now tinged with a different kind of anticipation. As you walked through the hotel lobby, his hand on the small of your back, you could feel the heat of his touch, a silent promise of what was to come.

In the plush surroundings of his suite, Yeosang handed you a towel and a change of clothes—a simple, oversized shirt. "You can use the shower," he said, his voice low and intimate as he gestured toward the bathroom. "Take your time."

You nodded, offering him a shy smile as you retreated into the bathroom. The steamy embrace of the shower was a welcome relief, washing away the stickiness of the spilled drink and the lingering nerves. The warmth of the water soothed you, but it also heightened your awareness of the situation—of the man waiting for you just outside the door.

When you emerged, wrapped in his shirt and only your panties, the soft fabric clinging to your damp skin, you found Yeosang standing by the window, gazing out at the city below. He turned as you entered the room, his eyes darkening with desire as he took in the sight of you in his clothes.

"You look beautiful," he murmured, stepping closer, his gaze lingering on your bare legs and the curve of your hips.Your breath hitched as he reached out, his hand tracing the outline of your shoulder. His touch was light, almost reverent, but it sent a shiver down your spine. "Yeosang..." you whispered, your voice trembling with anticipation.

His fingers trailed down your arm, his gaze never leaving yours. "I’ve wanted this all night," he admitted, his voice thick with need. "But I didn’t want to rush you."

"I don’t want you to stop," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest. The honesty of your words seemed to ignite something in him, and before you could say another word, he closed the distance between you, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both tender and demanding.

The kiss deepened, becoming more urgent as he guided you toward the bed. You tumbled onto the soft sheets, the fabric of your shirts the only barrier between your heated bodies. His hands roamed over you, exploring every curve, every inch of your skin as if memorizing it. He kissed along your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin and leaving behind a trail of marks that would remind you of this night for days to come.

As his hands slid beneath the hem of your shirt, you felt his fingers brush against your stomach, sending a ripple of pleasure through you. He paused, looking into your eyes as he pushed the fabric higher, revealing more of your body. "You’re stunning," he whispered, his voice filled with awe as he took in the sight of you.

A blush crept up your neck, warmth spreading through your body as you felt his gaze, heavy with desire. "Mhm~ Yeosang..." you breathed, your voice laced with need.

He responded with a slow, sensual kiss, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips before delving deeper. His hand traveled up your torso, fingers finding your nipples, already hardened with anticipation. He teased them gently, his touch sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you.

You gasped into his mouth, your back arching off the bed as his fingers worked their magic. The fabric of your panties grew damp with your desire and you could feel his hardness pressing against your thigh, a silent reminder of the pleasure yet to come. The anticipation was unbearable, a delicious agony that left you trembling beneath his touch.

Yeosang’s lips moved from your mouth to your jawline, trailing soft, lingering kisses down your neck. He nipped at your collarbone, each gentle bite sending a new wave of heat coursing through your veins. His hands were everywhere—roaming across your chest, sliding down your sides, exploring the curves of your body as if committing every detail to memory.

He pulled back slightly, his gaze locked onto yours as he slipped the oversized shirt off your shoulders, revealing your bare skin to the cool air of the room. His eyes darkened with desire as they raked over your exposed form, his lips curving into a small, appreciative smile. "You’re breathtaking," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

Before you could respond, he kissed you again, his lips claiming yours in a way that left no room for doubt about what he wanted. His hand trailed down your stomach, his fingers brushing teasingly over your clit through the thin fabric of your panties. You moaned into his mouth, your hips instinctively rising to meet his touch, desperate for more.

He didn’t rush. Instead, he took his time, savoring every sound you made, every tremble that passed through you as he continued to tease you. His fingertips circled your clit with a gentle, maddening touch that left you on the edge, your body aching for release. When he finally slid two fingers inside you, your eyes rolled back with satisfaction, the feeling of being filled up felt so good.

He looked down at you, watching how you frowned as he slid his fingers in and out of your aching cunt. His fingers curled up, applying pressure against your walls, which almost made you cum already. But it wasn't until his pumps became deeper that you felt close to releasing. Yeosang started to hit your good spot over and over, the knot in your stomach tightening.

You shattered, your orgasm crashing over you like a tidal wave. Your cries filled the room, a symphony of pleasure that echoed off the walls. But Yeosang wasn’t finished. He continued to kiss you, to touch you, his voice a soft murmur in your ear, whispering sweet nothings that sent shivers down your spine. His fingers pumped in and out of you continuosly, each thrust pushing you closer to the edge once more.

"Fuck—" you groaned, feeling how the pleasure build up again, his fingers knuckle deep inside your hole. "It feels good, doesn't it?" he asked, but from the way you clenched around him, he knew that you liked it. "Let go for me," he coaxed, his breath hot against your skin as his fingers moved faster, deeper, building you up again. "I want to feel you cum."

His words, combined with the relentless pleasure he was giving you, pushed you over the edge a second time. You came with his name on your lips, a cry of pure ecstasy that left you trembling beneath him. Your body tightened around his fingers, the sensation so intense it left you breathless.

As you lay there, panting, your body still buzzing with the aftershocks of your orgasm, Yeosang withdrew his fingers, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction. He stripped off his own clothes with a speed that made you smile, the urgency of his movements betraying his own need.

His cock stood at attention, hard and ready, and your heart skipped a beat as you took in the sight of him, fully revealed for the first time. He climbed onto the bed, his body covering yours, his skin warm against yours as he settled between your legs. He kissed you deeply, his tongue mimicking the movements of his fingers, leaving you breathless once more.

When he finally slid inside you, the feeling was almost overwhelming. He filled you completely, stretching you in a way that made you gasp, your legs instinctively wrapping around his waist to pull him closer. Yeosang groaned, his breath hitching as he felt you tighten around him.

The rhythm you found together was instinctive, each thrust perfectly aligned with your body’s needs. His cock brushed against your good spot with every movement, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through you, making you see stars. The world around you blurred, leaving only the two of you, moving together in perfect harmony.

Yeosang’s lips never stopped moving, kissing every inch of you, leaving a trail of hickeys on your skin like a secret map only you could trace later. His hands were everywhere—exploring, caressing, claiming you as his own. Every touch, every kiss, every thrust brought you closer to the edge, until you were teetering on the brink, your body trembling with the force of the pleasure building inside you.

"Yeosang," you gasped, your voice breathless as you felt yourself nearing your peak once more. "I’m so close."

He responded with a low groan, his thrusts becoming more forceful, more deliberate as he chased his own release. "Let go," he urged, his voice rough with need. "I want to make you cum so good."

His words were the final push you needed. With a cry of his name, you came, your body convulsing as waves of pleasure crashed over you, your nails digging into his back as you clung to him. The sensation of you clenching around him was too much for Yeosang and with a final, deep thrust, he followed you over the edge, his release warm as he filled you.

The two of you lay there, tangled in the sheets, your hearts racing in sync with each other’s, the room filled with the scent of sex and sweat—a heady perfume that seemed to seal the bond between you. The silence that followed was filled with contentment, a quiet peace that wrapped around you both like a warm blanket.

After a moment, Yeosang gently pulled out, and you felt the loss of him immediately. But before you could protest, he was already moving, retrieving a soft cloth to clean you up with a tenderness that made your heart swell.

"Thank you," you whispered, your voice soft as he wiped the remnants of your combined liquids from your skin.

He smiled down at you, his eyes filled with warmth as he discarded the cloth and returned to your side, pulling you into his arms. "No need to thank me," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Just holding you like this is enough."

You snuggled closer to him, feeling the steady beat of his heart against your cheek as you drifted off to sleep, the events of the night playing over in your mind like a beautiful, surreal dream.

As you fell into a deep, contented slumber, Yeosang held you close, lost in his own thoughts of tonight's events.

[marsplastic13]

'Complicated' (Part 1) - Kaz Brekker x reader

Idea - Kaz Brekker hires a prostitute to overcome his touch aversion, and be a better man for Inej, but things take an unxepected turn.

Pairing: Kaz Brekker x Prostitute!Reader, (had to use y/n because I'm bad at names) Genre: modern AU, slow burn word count: 9.3k notes: please let me know what you think <3

Kaz Brekker studied the girl sitting uncomfortably in front of him. She kept shifting in her seat, her eyes darting around the room. Kaz tried to gather his thoughts, cursing himself for the drunk texts he had sent the previous night. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he was as uncomfortable as she was. He sighed, repeating to himself, "For Inej." He didn't care about this girl, didn't know her, didn't want to know her—he was doing this for Inej.

The girl's phone buzzed again. "Sorry, my friends are scared that you're going to kill me and asked me to send texts every three minutes or they'll call the police," she murmured, typing quickly.

Kaz raised an eyebrow, wondering what he had gotten himself into. He knew he had to say something. "For Inej," he reminded himself once more. "You are a prostitute," he blurted out. Who starts a conversation like that?

"Yep," the girl nodded, a tight smile on her lips.

"Who do you work for?"

"No one, it's, uh, really a selected clientele, let's say. I work with my roommates."

Kaz nodded, avoiding her gaze. He shouldn't be ashamed; she was no one. "I have a girlfriend—"

"Oh, the Wraith? I watch all of her videos. She's gorgeous. Sorry, I'll let you speak," she added quickly, noticing the annoyance on his face.

His last encounter with Inej played in his mind—how she had kissed him and he had run away, throwing up in the street. He shook his head. He could do this. He had to. "I have an issue. I can't touch people. It makes me physically sick, and I have to overcome it. For her," he said, all in one breath.

The girl frowned, her gaze shifting to his gloved hands. "So what do you want from me?"

"I want to get used to skin," he said, looking up at the ceiling, silently asking Ghezen to take him out of his misery. "She'll be back in a few months, and I would like to show her some progress."

"I'm sure you don't want her to know about this arrangement," the girl said slowly.

"No, exactly."

The girl looked around, weighing his words. "Sure, it's fine. I can do it. Prices are the same, though, sex or not," she said, getting up.

Kaz stood as well, nodding. "What do I owe you for this... chat?" he asked, blushing slightly.

The girl smirked. "First meeting is on the house. I'm y/n, by the way." She made her way out, and Kaz collapsed back into his chair, exhausted by the encounter.

***

Kaz Brekker found himself in the entry of her apartment, sitting uncomfortably on a couch, waiting. The girl who let him in had remarked that he was early and that she was still busy. He could hear soft moans coming from behind a closed door and did his best to ignore them, maintaining a straight face.

After a while, the noises stopped, replaced by muted conversation. A man left the room in a hurry, and a few minutes later, she appeared. The girl was wearing a see-through robe and dark green lingerie. She gestured for him to enter. Kaz hesitated, reminding himself, "For Inej."

The room was tidy, with no unnecessary items around. Kaz stood in the middle of it, unsure of what to do.

"You can sit, Kaz. Can I call you Kaz, or should I call you Mr. Brekker?"

"Kaz is fine," he said, neatly folding his coat and placing it on a chair, resting his cane against it. He took a seat on the bed, keeping some distance from her.

"You know, I actually did more research," she stated, getting a bit closer. The girl hugged her legs, her feet inches from his thigh. Kaz could already feel the anxiety rising.

"Your girlfriend was kidnapped and enslaved. That's awful. She's doing a great job sharing her story around the world."

He nodded without looking at her. Her body was on full display, and he never felt worse.

"What would she think if she knew you were with a whore?"

Kaz's head shot up, surprised by the question. "I... That's... you do it by choice," he stammered.

"So she wouldn't have a problem?" she inquired, curious, leaning in.

Kaz shifted a bit away. "That's none of your business," he snapped, then turned to look at her. "Why do you do this?"

The girl smiled. "Because sex is great, and my grandma always told me never to do something for free if you're good at it."

Kaz tilted his head, frowning.

"I mean," she continued, shifting closer, "what's the difference between going out on a Friday night hoping for some guy to buy me a drink and then take me home? I'll tell you," she added, not letting him think, "First, I'm getting paid, a lot. I can work with who I want, when I want, and I still have Friday nights free."

"That's... a way to see things," he admitted, surprised.

"Kaz?"

"Yes?"

"You're about to fall off the bed," she whispered playfully. Kaz had shifted so far away that he was dangerously close to the edge of the mattress.

"You are too close," he said, avoiding her gaze.

"Wasn't that the goal?" she leaned in a bit more.

"I need more time and space," Kaz said, getting up and pacing a bit.

"Do you have suggestions? Because I'm not really used to whatever it is you want me to do."

Kaz's mind raced. Part of him screamed to leave, to bury himself somewhere, to tell Inej it was over and disappear from the world. But another part remembered how good it had felt to hold Inej's hand, even if just for a few minutes. He sighed, sitting back on the bed.

"I need to have control over this, over you," he said, determined.

"I'm yours for the next 50 minutes," she shrugged, eyeing him curiously.

Kaz got lost in thought for a moment. "Can I see your hands?"

The girl rested them on the bed, and he slowly brought his covered fingers to brush against hers. "Do you like my nails?" she asked. Was she unable to stay quiet? he wondered.

"No, they're too long. Also, I don't like the color or the shape." These weren't Inej's hands, tanned and small, with bitten nails.

The girl laughed. "You have strong opinions about nails."

He actually chuckled, studying them more closely. "You should change your nail technician."

"I'll ring you up next time I have to do them."

Kaz kept turning her hand in his. They were pale and trembled slightly. Or maybe his hands were trembling; he didn't know. His thoughts wandered to the moans he had heard earlier. He wondered if they were real or if she was acting.

His fingers brushed hers again, and she shivered slightly. Kaz couldn't help but wonder about her life. Was she always this confident? Was she always in control? Did she ever feel as lost as he did right now?

After a long time, he felt confident enough to remove his gloves. "You have pianist's hands," she observed, tilting her head.

"I have thief's hands," he whispered. Kaz rested his hands next to hers on the bed. He raised a finger and slowly traced it along her hand. Shivers went down his spine; the anxiety was at his ankles, but he wasn't going to drown.

Kaz exhaled. "Your hands are cold," said the girl.

"Yours too," he replied.

"You know, I think you're forcing yourself too much. You're too focused on your hands," she observed.

"What should I do?" Kaz raised his gaze to meet hers.

"I don't know. Do something that involves touching, but not just that. Keep talking," she encouraged.

"About what?"

"Talk about your girlfriend."

Hesitantly, Kaz started talking, sharing facts here and there. He tried to keep his eyes on her, distancing his thoughts from her cold hands in his trembling ones.

Kaz felt her hands continuously slipping away. Every time he reached for them, she pulled away.

"For Ghezen's sake, stay still," he said, annoyed, grabbing her wrist to keep her hand where he wanted it.

She raised her brows, surprised.

Kaz looked at their hands. His lungs felt like they were filling with water.

"Kaz, you're not breathing."

No, he wasn't. He let go of her wrist, getting to his feet again. He leaned on the desk, taking slow breaths and cursing himself, his past, Inej, and the poor girl who was watching him with wide eyes.

"Do you want to try again?" she offered.

Kaz took a shaky breath, then nodded.

Later, he stayed in his car under the girl's flat for a while, listening to Inej's audio messages and wondering what she would think of him if she knew. He wondered if this would work and if she would ask what had happened to him when she returned and he could hug her, feel her, kiss her.

***

For weeks, Kaz made his way to her house. It took him a lot to be comfortable enough to hold her hand. Even if he didn't like to admit it, he didn't dislike talking to her. Sometimes he would vent about his work, and she would listen attentively, her hands held tight in his. Other times, they would talk about the Netflix show he convinced her to watch, sharing moments of laughter and distraction from the weight of their respective lives.

One time, they even got into a spirited debate because she was a vegan and he thought it was a ridiculous concept. She argued passionately about animal rights and the environment, while he countered with pragmatic concerns about nutrition and societal norms. Despite their differences, they found a strange sort of fun in their debates, both stubbornly refusing to concede their positions.

As the weeks passed, Kaz found himself looking forward to their sessions, not just because of the progress he was making with his aversion to touch but also because of the unexpected connection he was forming with this unconventional woman. She was sharp-witted, unapologetically herself, and surprisingly perceptive about his inner struggles. Though their arrangement was based on a transactional premise, Kaz couldn't deny that there was a genuine bond developing between them.

He often wondered about her life outside of these walls, the clients she saw, the challenges she faced, and the reasons that led her to this unconventional career. Yet, despite his curiosity, he refrained from prying too deeply. Their interactions were framed within a delicate balance of intimacy and distance, a line he was careful not to cross.

Each visit brought a new revelation or a small triumph. Sometimes it was a touch held a moment longer than before, a conversation that flowed effortlessly, or a shared laughter that eased the tension in the room. Through it all, Kaz kept Inej in his thoughts, reminding himself that every step he took here was for her.

***

He still had about three weeks before Inej would come back. Kaz was waiting on the couch, getting used to the noises he heard from the various rooms in the house. That day, they were louder than he had ever heard, and he recognized her voice clearly. The girl at the desk snorted, looking at his embarrassed face.

"Stop, please, stop, let me go," he heard, and he got on his feet.

"Where do you think you're going?" the girl at the desk raised an eyebrow.

"She said—" her screams grew louder, more pleading, more desperate cries for help.

Kaz took a few more steps, but the girl stopped him. "She's not using her safe word. You can't go in. Are you crazy?" she asked angrily.

Kaz stopped, embarrassed. "I'll go back to—"

"Yeah, sit back," the girl shook her head.

Kaz reluctantly sat back down, his mind racing. He felt a mixture of anger, confusion, and helplessness. The sounds from the room continued, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he should be doing something. Every instinct screamed at him to intervene, but he forced himself to stay put, gripping the edge of the couch with white knuckles.

The girl at the desk glanced at him, then sighed. "Look, I get it. It sounds bad, but she knows what she's doing. If she needed help, she'd use her safe word."

Kaz nodded, trying to calm his racing heart. "I know. It's just... weird to listen to."

The girl softened a bit. "It's part of the job, both hers and mine. You learn to block it out. You'll get used to it too, if you keep coming here."

He wasn't sure he wanted to get used to it. Kaz's thoughts drifted back to Inej, to the reason he was putting himself through this. He needed to be stronger for her, to be able to touch her without flinching. But moments like this made him question if he was doing the right thing.

Eventually, the noises from the room subsided. The door opened, and the man from earlier left, looking smug. Kaz glared at him, but the man didn't notice, or didn't care.

A few minutes later, she emerged, looking tired but composed. She saw Kaz and gave him a small smile. "Ready?" she asked.

Kaz nodded, standing up. He followed her into the familiar room, feeling more on edge than usual. As they settled in, he tried to push the recent events out of his mind, focusing on the task at hand.

"You okay?" she asked, noticing his tension.

"Yeah," Kaz lied. "Just... a bit distracted."

She nodded, understanding. "We can take it slow today."

Kaz took a deep breath, reaching for her hand. He held it gently, trying to steady himself. "For Inej," he reminded himself again.

She still looked a bit disheveled when he got on her bed.

"Are you okay?" he asked.

"Yeah, no one fucked me that good in ages, I'm still a bit shocked, sorry."

Kaz looked at the ceiling, sighing. She always had to overshare.

"What's your safe word?" he asked as she got closer.

"Why? Are you into weird shit?" she grinned, and he felt himself blush because of his total lack of experience.

"Don't make that panicked face. I was joking," her hand slid comfortably into his, "my safe word is 'safe word.'"

Kaz laughed, a good, sincere laugh. "I am not surprised."

She laughed too. "I really hope that one day you'll be able to do shit so nasty it'll become too much, and the only thing you have in mind is, 'I have to use my safe word,' and you'll think that just saying 'safe word' is a great idea."

Kaz studied her, feeling a bit curious about what she was doing with the man before him, and he was sure she would go into detail if he asked. Instead, he decided to go straight for what he wanted to do. "I want to hold you."

"Sure, how?"

He thought about Inej, how he saw her with their friends, carefree, resting her head on Nina's lap.

"Rest your head on me," his heart started racing as she executed the request.

"How does it feel?" she asked, getting comfortable.

Kaz looked at her, slowly scanning her features. She was undeniably beautiful, but still not as much as Inej. There was a stark difference between the two women, and it wasn't just physical. This girl's beauty was polished and practiced, a tool she wielded with confidence and control. Inej's beauty was more profound, a quiet strength that resonated from deep within her, marked by the resilience in her eyes and the grace in her movements.

As Kaz held her, he found himself comparing every detail. Her hair was soft under his fingers, but it lacked the wild, untamed quality of Inej's. Her skin was smooth and flawless, but it didn't have the history and stories that Inej's scars told. He felt a pang of guilt for comparing them, but he couldn't help it. Inej was the reason he was here, the reason he was pushing himself to the brink of his comfort zone.

His mind wandered to the times he had watched Inej from afar, wishing he could reach out and touch her, to reassure her of his presence and his support. He remembered the way she moved through the shadows, a silent guardian, and how he had admired her from a distance. She was more than just a companion; she was his anchor, his reason for fighting.

But now, as he sat here, trying to overcome his deepest fears, he wondered if he would ever be able to truly be there for her. Would this training make a difference? Would he be able to touch her without flinching, without feeling the icy grip of panic?

He thought about the last time he had seen Inej, how she had kissed him and how he had run away, throwing up in the street. The memory filled him with shame, but also a renewed determination. He couldn't let that be the end of their story. He had to be stronger, for her.

"It's... fine," he admitted, feeling more in control that day.

"You know," she said with a smirk, "I'm sure your girlfriend would absolutely love it if you played with her hair, scratched her head..." she let her voice trail off.

Kaz chuckled. "My girlfriend or you?"

"Oh no, it's all for her. I would hate it," she laughed softly.

He removed his gloves and started touching her hair from the lengths. He slowly made his way to her head, wondering if Inej would really enjoy it as much as this girl seemed to. The girl closed her eyes, humming with satisfaction. "I can't believe you pay me to cuddle me," she whispered.

"I'm not cuddling you," he said, offended.

"I know you're not an expert, but trust me, love, you totally are," the girl smiled, keeping her eyes closed.

Kaz rolled his eyes. "I want to try and hug you, but, uhm, can you put some more clothes on?"

The girl looked at her exposed body, then nodded. "Sure thing, baby. I'll be right back." She stood up and walked to her dresser, pulling out a comfortable-looking sweater and leggings. After slipping them on, she returned to the bed and sat next to him.

"Can you stop using pet names for me? It's weird," Kaz requested.

The girl sighed heavily, rolling her eyes. "Yes, Kaz." She moved to sit on his lap, waiting for his instructions. Kaz kept his hands firmly on the bed, his breaths quickening. The girl stood still, looking around, until he rested one of his hands on her thigh. She started chatting about the latest gossip she had on one of her friends, and Kaz found himself becoming more and more invested. That girl was really unlucky with relationships.

Kaz put his other hand on her arm, and while she kept talking, he guided her to rest against his chest, silently battling a war inside of him.

"Kaz, you're not breathing," she reminded him gently.

He knew he wasn't, and tried to distract himself by focusing on her hair. Sometimes he wondered if he had it all wrong. Maybe Inej would have enjoyed making this long journey with him, but he felt too embarrassed. With y/n, he didn't have to be ashamed; he was paying for her time, and he was the one setting the pace and the rules.

Kaz let her press her head against his chest, staring firmly out of the window. "Can I?" the girl rested a hand on his chest to shift more comfortably. They remained in that position for a while. He gathered the courage to hug her more tightly, but as he did, her forehead pressed against his neck, and he felt like drowning.

Kaz abruptly got to his feet, shoving her away, trying to ground himself. "What the fuck?" the girl was on the floor, massaging her shoulder, and Kaz managed to feel even worse.

"I'm sorry, I can't-" he started, his voice faltering with frustration and self-disappointment. He turned away, struggling to regain his composure, he failed miserably to steady his breaths.

The girl remained on the floor, watching him quietly.

He didn't look at her as he hurriedly gathered his things and made his way to the door. Before leaving, he glanced back at her once more. "Wait Kaz don't-" he heard her calling for him, but he ran away from the building. His heart stopped racing only after he drove for a while.

After a shower, Kaz was feeling slightly better. He threw himself on his bed, exhausted both physically and emotionally from the day's events. Checking his phone, he found a few audio messages from Inej, likely filled with her warm voice and reassuring words, a couple of pictures from Jesper, probably teasing snapshots or updates from their latest escapade, and nothing from y/n.

Kaz sighed heavily; he had even forgotten to pay her. He tapped on the bank application: 'Press Confirm to send 700 kruge to y/n y/l/n.' It was way more than what he usually gave her, but he confirmed the transaction without hesitation, feeling it was a small price for the scene he caused. Tossing his phone aside, he turned on the TV and aimlessly flipped through channels until he settled on the new episode of Masterchef.

As he immersed himself in the cooking competition, his phone signaled a new message.

'Did someone steal your card?'

Kaz shook his head at the text, amused by her directness. He decided not to respond, but another message followed immediately.

'Are you watching Masterchef?'

'No,' he replied without thinking.

'I bet you could do a better tiramisu than this even blind and with just one hand.'

He chuckled softly, his lips curving into a rare smile. 'Absolutely.'

'My friends asked me to go to the Crow Club tomorrow night, hope it's not a problem.'

'It's fine,' Kaz replied, relieved at the normalcy of their conversation despite the recent awkwardness.

The girl left him on read, and he returned his attention to the episode, stealing occasional glances at his phone. In the comfort of his room, surrounded by the familiar banter of the cooking show and the gentle glow of the television, Kaz allowed himself a moment of respite from the complexities of his life.

***

The next night, Kaz observed the bustling crowd from his elevated private zone in the club. It was well past 2 am, and the party was in full swing. Amidst the sea of dancing bodies and flashing lights, he spotted y/n with four other girls, one of whom he recognized as the 'secretary' he had seen at her house.

Almost immediately, a group of guys approached them, offering drinks and inviting them to dance. Kaz felt a pang of discomfort at the thought of immersing himself in the midst of the sweaty, pulsating crowd, but he couldn't deny that y/n and her friends seemed to be thoroughly enjoying themselves.

Throughout the night, Kaz stole glances at her, careful not to lock eyes. He observed as she laughed, danced, and interacted with her friends and the group of guys around them. Despite the chaotic environment of the club, there was a sense of carefree energy emanating from y/n that Kaz found both intriguing and somewhat unsettling.

As the hours ticked by and the club approached closing time around 4 am, Kaz couldn't help but notice y/n leaving with a guy, her arm casually draped around his. Guess she found someone to take her home on a Friday night, he thought wryly.

Observing from his secluded vantage point, Kaz's mind began to wander, consumed by curiosity about y/n's motivations. It puzzled him why someone who engaged in intimate encounters every day for work would actively seek out another person at a club. Was it a matter of preference—perhaps finding someone who could provide a different kind of connection or intimacy that her clients couldn't? Did she crave genuine affection or cuddles after days of superficial interactions?

The image of her relaxed face as he played with her hair during their sessions floated into his mind. There had been a moment of vulnerability there, a glimpse behind the professional facade she maintained. Kaz found himself reflecting on the complexities of human desires and needs, realizing that intimacy—whether physical or emotional—could manifest in myriad forms, even for someone whose profession seemed to blur those boundaries.

He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, torn between curiosity and a sense of guilt for prying into her personal life.

***

"Kaz!" He had just stepped out of his car when he heard her voice calling from somewhere behind him.

Kaz turned and saw y/n approaching with a smile. It was the first time she had been free before their usual session.

"That's really your car?" she asked in shock.

"Yep," he replied, a hint of satisfaction in his voice.

"My brother in Ghezen, you have money," she observed, still eyeing the car. "Are you sure you want to stay faithful to your girlfriend?" she smirked.

"Pretty sure," he answered without hesitation.

"Why are you always this early?" she asked, opening the building's door and gesturing for him to enter first.

Kaz shrugged, "I don't like being late."

"Well, I'm not booked for another 20 minutes. Do you want something to drink? I think I have beer."

"You drink before going to work?" he joked.

"Oh, wait until I tell you I have sex at my workplace sometimes," she winked.

They sat in her room, chatting about Masterchef and sipping their drinks. "I'll change and then I'm all yours," she said, heading to her drawer.

Kaz glanced at her outfit—jeans and a t-shirt, perfectly ordinary. "Can you stay like this?" he blurted before he could stop himself. "You have less skin exposed."

She seemed uncomfortable with his request. "Undressing helps me separate things," she explained, shifting her weight. "I wouldn't feel comfortable using my everyday clothes while working. I'll find a compromise like the other day."

After she changed into something less revealing, they both sat on the bed. Kaz felt calmer than before; he had survived her touching his neck, and despite the panic attack, the world hadn't stopped turning. He hadn't drowned. He could do this. 'For Inej,' he repeated in his mind like a mantra.

"Come here," he said softly, and she moved onto his lap.

Again, he started touching her hair and noticed she must have changed her shampoo. Slowly, he pulled her closer until her head rested on his chest, both careful not to let bare skin touch. They continued chatting, and Kaz felt comfortable enough to hold her hand too.

The girl slowly shifted in his arms to look at him while talking, and he didn't even notice.

"Fix my hair," she said at a certain point.

He looked puzzled. "I have hair in my face, put it behind my ear," she encouraged, "girls love it, trust me."

Kaz sighed. He had never touched her face. He took the small strand of hair and did what she asked, brushing as little as possible against her ear.

"Not bad," she commented with a smile, making him snort at the absurdity of the situation.

The whole scenario felt surreal. Here he was, grappling with the simple act of brushing hair from her face, while she was someone who had sex for money, casually and without the emotional turmoil that plagued him. Kaz's mind raced with the juxtaposition of their worlds—her ease and expertise contrasted sharply with his profound discomfort and hesitation.

Kaz's gaze fell from her eyes to her lips, and she didn't miss it. "Yes, it would be a great moment to kiss her."

He nodded, feeling bad about how slow his progress was. It frustrated him to no end. He had always been the master of his own fate, the one in control, but this was different. This was a battle against his own mind and body, and he was losing. He felt like he was stuck in quicksand, every attempt to move forward met with resistance.

His mind wandered back to Inej, her soft voice and the warmth of her presence. How would she react if she knew what he was doing? Would she understand, or would she feel betrayed? He pushed the thoughts away, focusing on the girl in front of him.

"I saw you at the club the other day. Saw you left with a guy."

"Yeah, nothing special. Bit boring, not a great shag. I'll see him later for dinner," she commented.

"Why are you seeing him again if he's not good in bed?" he frowned.

"Maybe because I have sex almost every day, so it's not exactly my first concern," she snorted.

"Yeah, right. I always forget," he shook his head.

"Forget what? That not everyone who comes in here wants to do sweet things like you?" she teased.

Kaz felt a flush of frustration rising. "The fact that I can't do much doesn't mean I wouldn't like to do much more," he said before registering what he was revealing.

She looked at him with wide eyes. "That's new," she commented.

Kaz immediately felt a wave of embarrassment crash over him. He wasn't used to exposing such raw vulnerability, especially not to someone he was paying to help him. It made him feel weak, pathetic even, to admit his shortcomings so openly.

He glanced away, his face heating up. "Forget I said anything," he mumbled, wishing he could take the words back.

But she didn't let it go. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Kaz struggled to find the right words, feeling cornered. "It's just... I want to be able to touch her, to hold her without feeling like I'm drowning. I want to be able to kiss her, to feel her against me without panicking."

She nodded, listening intently. "It's natural to want those things with someone you care about."

Kaz's frustration bubbled over. "It's more than that. I want to be able to... to make her feel good, to be with her the way she deserves. I think about it all the time, but I can't even get close without... without freezing up."

Her eyes widened slightly, her expression sympathetic.

He glanced away, again. "Forget it," he mumbled, wishing he could take the words back.

But she didn't let it go. "No, really. What do you mean?"

Kaz sighed, his frustration mixing with a deep sense of inadequacy. "I mean, I want to be able to do things, normal things. But I can't. Every step feels like I'm trying to climb a mountain."

She tilted her head, her expression softening. "You're doing more than you realize, Kaz. The fact that you're here, trying, it says a lot about you."

He shook his head, still unable to meet her gaze. "But it's not enough. Inej deserves more than what I can give her right now."

She placed a hand on his, her touch gentle. "I imagine Inej loves you for who you are, not for what you can do. She's seen you at your worst, and she's still with you, right?"

Kaz nodded reluctantly. "Yeah, but for how long? What if she gets tired of waiting for me to be... normal?"

"Normal is overrated," she said with a small smile. "And besides, you're making progress. It might feel slow, but every step forward is a victory."

He sighed, feeling a bit of the weight lift off his shoulders. "I just... I don't want to disappoint her."

"And you won't," she assured him. "You're trying, and that's what matters. The rest will come with time."

Kaz felt a mix of relief and frustration. He was trying, but it never felt like enough. He didn't want to just keep trying; he wanted to succeed. He wanted to be the man Inej deserved, not just someone who was always working on getting better.

"So you want to have sex with her?" she asked with a grin, her tone teasing and eyes sparkling with curiosity.

"Of course I want to," he let himself say, sighing heavily. "But it's not just about sex. It's about everything that comes with it. The intimacy, the closeness, the trust. I want to be able to give her that without feeling like I'm about to fall apart."

She laughed softly. "That's a lot of pressure for one guy, even one as stubborn as you, Kaz. But it's cute, you know? Watching you struggle with this whole intimacy thing."

"Great," he muttered, his frustration mounting. "I'm glad my issues are entertaining for you."

She rolled her eyes, still grinning. "Oh, come on. Lighten up a little. You're taking this way too seriously."

"Seriously?" Kaz's voice had a sharp edge. "Of course I take it seriously. This is about more than just me. It's about Inej. She deserves better."

“But what about you Kaz? You always talk about her, what she might need, what she might expect from you,” she observed, “You’re allowed to do things for you too. You need to loosen up. Enjoy the process a bit."

Kaz felt the heat of embarrassment and anger rise in his cheeks. "It's not that simple," he snapped. "I can't just 'loosen up' and pretend everything's fine."

She smirked, leaning in closer. "Maybe you need to stop overthinking and start feeling. Like right now. What do you want to do? What do you really want?"

Kaz's mind raced, his usual calm shattered. "I want to be able to touch her, hold her, without feeling like I'm going to drown."

She raised an eyebrow, her smile turning mischievous. "What do you want to do with me?"

Kaz hesitated, feeling the weight of her question. His thoughts were jumbled, a mix of frustration and desire. He knew she was teasing him, but the question still struck a chord. He wanted to push his boundaries, but it was hard to admit it, even to himself.

"I want to..." he began, his voice trailing off as he struggled to find the right words. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "I want to be able to hold you closer. To not feel like I'm constantly on the edge."

She tilted her head, still grinning. "Is that all? I thought you'd have something more interesting in mind, apart from holding hands and playing with hair."

Kaz felt a surge of irritation. "It's not a game," he snapped. "This is hard for me." His mind began to wander, thinking about all the things he wanted to try but was too shy to say out loud. He imagined holding her hand without gloves, feeling her skin against his. He thought about tracing the curves of her body, learning every inch of her by touch alone. He wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips against his and lose himself in the sensation.

He yearned to learn how to make her come undone in the same way he knew how to crack a safe, so good that it left her distracted all day, like he had witnessed for other men. He imagined exploring her body, discovering what made her gasp, what made her moan. In his mind, images of Inej blurred with images of y/n, and he shook his head to make them go away.

"You don't have to be afraid to say what you want," she whispered, her voice suddenly soft. 

Kaz took another deep breath, trying to calm the storm inside him. "I just... I want to feel normal," he confessed. "I want to touch and be touched without fear."

"Do you think you can touch my cheek?" 

Kaz tilted his head. "Maybe with the gloves first." He covered his hands and then stopped, unsure of how to proceed.

The girl felt his hesitation, "Can I?" she gestured to his hand, and he nodded.

She guided his hand to her face, and he felt the familiar rush of anxiety. He had to fight the urge to pull away, to retreat back into the safety of distance. His breathing quickened as he made contact, his gloved hand resting on her cheek.

"You're doing fine," she whispered encouragingly, but her words did little to soothe him. He felt like he was failing, like he was letting Inej down.

"It's just...so slow," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration. "I should be past this by now."

She shook her head slightly, careful not to disrupt his hand. "Everyone has their own pace, Kaz. You're making progress, and that's what matters."

Kaz sighed, his eyes fixated on his gloved hand against her skin. "But what if it's not enough? What if I can't ever get past this?"

She gently cupped his hand with her own, her touch light and reassuring. "You will. It's not about how fast you go, but about continuing to move forward, even if it's just a little bit at a time."

He looked at her, searching her eyes for some form of validation. "Do you really think so?"

She smiled softly. "I do. And I think Inej would understand. She knows what you've been through, and she wouldn't expect you to change overnight."

Kaz swallowed hard, feeling a lump in his throat. He wanted so badly to believe her, but the fear of failure loomed large. "I just... I want to be better for her."

"And you will be," she assured him. "You're already trying, and that means a lot. Now, do you want to try taking off the glove?"

Kaz hesitated, but then nodded. "Yeah. Let's try."

He carefully removed his glove, exposing his hand to the cool air. The anxiety surged again, but he kept his focus on her face, her calm demeanor helping to steady him.

"Okay," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm ready."

She guided his bare hand back to her cheek, and this time, the contact felt more intimate, more real. Kaz took a deep breath, feeling a mix of fear and determination.

"See? You're doing it," she said softly. "One step at a time."

Kaz nodded, feeling a small spark of hope ignite within him. Maybe he could do this, after all. Maybe he could become the person he wanted to be for Inej, one slow step at a time.

He let himself brush his fingers against her nose, tracing the line of her brows. He couldn't bring himself to cup her face completely, but still, it was a lot. When he left, he felt good. He didn't have much time before Inej's arrival, but he was making progress.

***

All of his confidence disappeared the night before her arrival. In Kaz's mind, the only scene he could see was when she tried to kiss him, and he ran away.

‘Can you come to my place?’ Kaz attached the screenshot of a payment of 1000 kruge he only had to confirm.

After two minutes, he got a response. ‘Are you okay?’

He thought about what he could answer, but luckily another message saved him. ‘I don't work outside home, sorry. You can come here if you want.’

Kaz confirmed the payment and stormed outside his house.

He found y/n at her door with a worried look. It was quite late; she was probably doing other things when he had written to her. Her hair was slightly disheveled, and she wore a loose-fitting T-shirt and pajama shorts, hinting that she might have been getting ready for bed before his unexpected message.

"Kaz, what is going on?" she whispered, concern evident in her eyes as she glanced at the time on her phone.

"I have to kiss you. I want to... I want to kiss her," Kaz blurted out, his voice strained with anxiety.

She nodded slowly, processing his words. "Okay," she said softly, her tone soothing. "Come in."

She stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment. Kaz followed her, feeling a mix of nerves and determination swirling inside him. He noticed the cozy atmosphere of her living room, dimly lit with a few lamps casting warm light across the space.

As they walked towards her bedroom, Kaz stole glances at her, trying to read her expression. She seemed uncertain yet patient, as if she understood the weight of his intentions but wasn't entirely sure how to respond.

Inside her bedroom, she turned to face him, her gaze searching. "Let's take it slow," she suggested gently, her voice a contrast to the nervous energy crackling between them.

Kaz nodded, his heart racing in his chest. He took a deep breath, trying to calm the turmoil of emotions churning inside him. This moment felt surreal, both daunting and exhilarating.

They stood facing each other, a palpable tension hanging in the air. Kaz noticed the way her eyes softened as she studied him, as if she could see past his walls and into the vulnerability he kept hidden.

"Okay," he murmured, his voice barely audible in the quiet room.

She took a step closer, closing the distance between them. Kaz felt his breath catch in his throat as she reached out, her hand resting gently on his arm. 

"You're trying," she said softly, her gaze unwavering. "That's what matters."

He nodded, grateful for her understanding even as he struggled with his own expectations. Kaz knew he had to push past his fears, but the fear of failing Inej loomed large in his mind.

"I just..." Kaz started, his voice wavering with uncertainty. "I don't want to mess this up."

Her expression softened further, a faint smile tugging at the corners of her lips. "Have you ever kissed someone?"

"Not exactly," he muttered.

"You don't have to force yourself."

"Maybe I do," Kaz replied, releasing a few shaky breaths. With all the patience in the world, he leaned in, brushing his lips against hers. She tasted like cherries.

He took a few steps back, unsure. The world didn’t stop turning; he didn’t drown. He took a bit more courage, resting his gloved hands on her waist. Kaz tried to lean into the contact, to let their lips move against each other for more than a brief instant. She was cold, why was she always so cold? Inej burned under his touch; y/n felt like ice. Inej, he should be kissing Inej. Kaz pulled away from the brief contact again, with heavy breaths.

“Everything okay?” she asked.

He nodded, and her gaze softened. “You’re trembling, Kaz. Do you want to sit?”

They moved to the bed, where he noticed her tablet on with a paused show open. She was really about to go to sleep when he arrived. Their noses were inches apart, and it already felt too much.

“Talk to me,” she said gently.

“You taste like cherries,” escaped from his mouth.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes.”

“What does Inej taste like?” she leaned closer, brushing her nose against his.

“Like the sea,” he murmured, gazing one last time at her lips before pressing them into a kiss. Kaz tried to stay present, focused. His body wanted to react, to ask for more, but his mind kept him on a short leash. He managed to tangle one hand in her hair, to have more control. The girl slightly opened her lips, inviting him in, and he didn’t know what to do. He knew that people kissed with tongues, but he never grasped the mechanics of it.

Sensing his hesitation, y/n opened her mouth more, waiting for him to go further. Kaz’s heart was racing; he was sure he was about to have a stroke. All of her body was ice cold, but the hotness radiating from inside her mouth seemed to come directly from hell. y/n brushed her tongue on his lips, and he forced himself to respond. But as their tongues touched, he was back in the harbor, and water was filling his lungs.

Panic surged through him, and he pulled back, gasping for air. His chest heaved as if he were drowning, the sensation all too familiar and terrifying. He felt the sting of tears behind his eyes and cursed himself for his weakness.

A wave of nausea made his body tremble. “Shit, are you going to throw up?” asked the girl, panic evident in her voice.

He nodded frantically, trying to stop his body from convulsing. She quickly passed him a bucket just in time for him to empty his stomach into it. The acrid smell and the sound of his retching filled the room, amplifying his embarrassment and frustration.

She went to open the window, letting the fresh air in. The cool breeze helped ground him a bit. “You don’t have to rush, Kaz,” she said, passing him a few tissues to wipe his mouth.

“I just wanted to... I have been doing better these past days,” he muttered, wiping away the remnants of his failure.

“Yeah, you are, don’t worry,” she assured him, her voice gentle. Without thinking, she rested her hand on his back, making small circles. He didn’t even notice it, from how natural it felt, and for a moment, he allowed himself to be comforted.

“So she’s coming tomorrow?” she asked.

“Yes, she’s staying for a few weeks,” he replied, his voice tinged with anticipation and anxiety.

“You must be happy.”

“I am. I haven’t seen her in three months.”

“Special plans? Oh, you know where you should take her? I saw this place where they do this wine and chocolate tasting thing, must be super romantic.”

Kaz chuckled, imagining Inej in such a fancy place. The thought of her delicate features scrutinizing overpriced chocolate made him smile. “Are you going?” he asked, trying to steer the conversation away from his own nervousness.

The girl snorted, a sharp contrast to the soft concern she had shown moments before. “Yeah, sure, with who exactly?” she replied, rolling her eyes.

“I don’t know, that guy from the club?” Kaz suggested, feeling the awkwardness of the question. He didn’t know why he was prying into her personal life. Maybe it was an attempt to normalize their interaction, or maybe he just wanted to understand her better.

“We’re not seeing each other anymore. We weren’t very compatible,” she said, her tone dismissive.

Kaz wasn’t sure what he was supposed to say. Was he supposed to apologize? Or assure her that she would find someone else? The awkwardness of the moment hung in the air, thick and uncomfortable.

“It’s a bit late, Kaz. What do you want to do?” she asked, breaking the silence.

“Better go home,” he said, gathering his things. He stole a last glance at her, feeling a strange mix of gratitude and discomfort. He was about to thank her, but then remembered the substantial amount of money he gave her to come over so late. It felt odd to focus on the transactional nature of their relationship when she had seen the most vulnerable parts of him. Embarrassment flushed his cheeks as he muttered a simple, “Goodnight,” and headed straight for his car.

As he drove home, his mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. He couldn't shake the feeling of failure, the constant fear that he would never be able to be the man Inej deserved. The taste of her, the way she felt under his touch, was supposed to give him hope, but all it left was a hollow ache in his chest. He was trying, but it never felt like enough. As he pulled into his driveway, he took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. Tomorrow, he would see Inej. And he had to be better for her. He had to be stronger.

***

Kaz got off the phone and threw it at the wall. The device clattered to the floor, its screen now cracked—a physical manifestation of his frustration. Inej wasn’t coming back. She had just called to talk about a new opportunity someone had proposed to her, and she had to be there. He was proud of the work she was doing, truly, but he couldn't help but feel left in the corner, an afterthought.

Inej had assured him it would only take a few days, that he wouldn’t even notice her absence. He chuckled bitterly at that. Easy for her to say—she wasn’t the one left behind to wait. She was always off on some new adventure, while he remained stuck, paralyzed by his own demons.

His phone buzzed, dragging him back from his spiraling thoughts. Reluctantly, he picked it up. It was a message from Jesper: 'Just talked to Inej. I’m sorry. Want to get drunk?' Kaz stared at the screen for a moment before replying with a simple thumbs-up. It was a weak attempt to push his emotions aside, but it was all he could manage.

With a heavy sigh, Kaz checked Instagram. As he scrolled through the endless stories of people he didn’t care about, one caught his eye—y/n pre-gaming with her friends before heading out. It was a boomerang of her getting on her knees and throwing her head back while another girl poured liquor directly into her mouth from a bottle. 

He felt a strange pang of jealousy mixed with irritation. Here he was, struggling with his emotions, and there she was, seemingly carefree and reckless. Guess he wasn’t the only one getting drunk that night, but at least she seemed to be having fun.

Kaz tossed his phone onto the couch and sank into his armchair, his thoughts a tangled mess. He thought about Inej, about how much he missed her. He thought about y/n, about the absurdity of their last encounter. His mind was a whirlwind of frustration, loneliness, and longing.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jesper stood on the other side, a bottle of whiskey in one hand and a mischievous grin on his face. “Ready to forget your troubles for a night?”

Kaz managed a weak smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

They settled into the living room, and Jesper poured two generous glasses. They drank in silence at first, the alcohol burning a path down Kaz’s throat and dulling the edge of his thoughts. It was a temporary reprieve, but he welcomed it.

“So, what’s the plan?” Jesper asked after a while, breaking the silence.

Kaz shrugged. “There is no plan. Just get through the night.”

Jesper nodded, raising his glass in a silent toast. “To getting through.”

As they drank, Kaz’s thoughts kept drifting back to y/n. He wondered what she was doing now, if she was thinking about him at all. He knew it was ridiculous—she had her own life, her own problems. But he couldn’t shake the feeling of connection he had felt during their last meeting, despite everything.

He took another sip, trying to drown out the confusion in his mind. Tonight, he would let go, just for a little while. Tomorrow, he would pick up the pieces and try again.

Kaz and Jesper made their way to the Crow Club. He was already leaning heavily on his cane, the weight of the evening and the alcohol slowing him down. The queue outside was longer than ever, but being the owner had its perks. As they passed the waiting patrons, Kaz spotted y/n out of the corner of his eye. She was with her friends, laughing and swaying slightly, clearly already enjoying their night.

He knew he shouldn’t acknowledge her, but he was already a bit drunk and still simmering with anger and frustration over Inej. Impulsively, he gestured towards the girls. “You four,” he called out, his voice cutting through the noise. y/n’s intoxicated eyes widened in surprise. “Come with me.”

The girls followed, giggling and chattering amongst themselves. Kaz led them through the club, bypassing the main floor and heading straight to the VIP area. He offered them a prime table, ensuring they had a good view and plenty of attention from the waitstaff.

Kaz and y/n locked eyes for a brief moment before he turned to leave, making his way to the even more secluded private area with Jesper.

“Kaz, what was that?” Jesper asked, his eyes wide with curiosity and amusement.

Kaz shrugged, trying to play it off. “Don’t know, they looked cold waiting outside,” he mumbled.

“Sure, try to invent something better for next time,” Jesper laughed. “Or should I tell Inej?” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

Kaz bristled at the mention of Inej. “Tell her what? That I made four hot girls skip the queue so that some guys will offer them drinks and spend their money in my club? Sure, tell her.”

“There’s no need to get so defensive,” Jesper said, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “I’m just messing with you.”

Kaz sighed, running a hand through his hair. “It’s been a long day, Jesper.”

Jesper nodded, his expression softening. “I get it, man. You miss her. But you’ve got to trust that she’ll come back. And in the meantime, you’ve got to take care of yourself.”

Kaz stared into his drink, the amber liquid swirling in the glass. “It’s just hard,” he admitted. “Inej is out there, doing amazing things, and I’m stuck here, trying to keep everything together. I don’t even know what I’m doing.”

Jesper clapped him on the back. “You’re doing your best, Kaz. That’s all anyone can ask for. Now, let’s get drunk and forget about our problems for a while.”

Kaz managed a small smile, raising his glass in a toast. “To forgetting our problems.”

They clinked glasses and drank deeply, each sip a temporary reprieve from the turmoil of their lives. Tonight, Kaz allowed himself to drift away from the weight of responsibilities and emotions that usually anchored him.

His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he pulled it out to see a message from y/n.

‘Thanks for the table, where’s your hot girlfriend?’ she teased.

‘Had to delay,’ Kaz responded quickly, a touch of guilt creeping into his mind.

‘:(‘ came her disappointed reply.

‘Found someone to take you home?’ Kaz debated whether to send the message or not. Finally, he shrugged and decided to go for it. 'Fuck it,' he thought, 'it's just a text.'

Her response came swiftly, two messages popping up on his screen. ‘Still looking’ followed by ‘Want to step in? :)’

Kaz shook his head, a wry smile playing on his lips. ‘You wish,’ he typed back before tucking the broken phone back into his pocket.

Jesper, observing Kaz's exchange, couldn't resist teasing. “Who were you texting all smiling?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“No one,” Kaz replied casually, attempting to maintain his usual composed facade. But Jesper's knowing look told him he wasn't fooling anyone.

“You're hiding something,” Jesper prodded, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Don't I always?” Kaz quipped, offering a crooked smile as he got up from the table.

Jesper chuckled, shaking his head in amusement as Kaz walked away. They both understood that tonight's laughter and camaraderie were brief respites from their respective troubles. Tomorrow, Kaz would face the reality of Inej's absence once more, and y/n would continue navigating her own tumultuous world. But for now, amidst the clinking of glasses and the dim lights of the Crow Club, they found solace in each other's company and the fleeting escape that alcohol provided.

[shinestarhwaa]

ON-CALL || PARK SEONGHWA

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Seonghwa x Fem Reader

Word Count: 1.5K

Tags/Warnings: Doctor!AU, intern!reader, peds* resident!Seonghwa, kinda inspired by Grey's Anatomy, dirty language, masturbation, dom!Seonghwa, sub!reader, oral sex, unprotected sex, namecalling, slight hairpulling, slight spitting, praise

Helpful guide:

*Peds/pediatrician=doctor for kids

**pre-op = before operation

Taglist: @anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86 @changbinslovelylegs @jonghostie @lovjensoo @mjyungi @bratty-tingz @sugarnspice630 @stardragongalaxy @bro-atz @wisejudgedragonhairdo @mingisg00dgirl @wh0re4yunsangho

ENJOY!

"Dr. Y/L/N, you will be following Dr. Park Seonghwa today," your supervisor said as she finished her pep-talk of the day. Your supervisor, Dr. Long was a very kind and positive woman, always quirky and bright and she gathered her interns every morning before work to cheer them up and motivate them.

You'd been an intern for a few months and you were slowly getting used to the hard work. You vaguely knew dr. Park from several heroic stories. All the women seemed to swoon over him as they gossiped about his fine looks every day.

Pediatrics was not the field you wanted to pursue but you figured a look couldn't hurt. You met dr. Park Seonghwa right in front of room 204 and suddenly you understood why all the women gushed over his beauty.

Dr. Seonghwa was a tall man with a sleek and defined look. His hair was slightly curly, tucked behind his ear while a few front pieces fell in front of his eyes. His nose was prominent, eyes big like boba pearls and lips thick and they looked like they'd be softer than all the fluffy kittens in the world. God damn.

"H-Hi, dr. Park, I'm your intern for the day," you introduced yourself. "Right, Y/N, I got the note that you'd walk with me today. If you have any questions let me know, okay? Let's get inside now, we're here to see a ten year old boy pre-op**," Seonghwa said as he guided you into the room.

"Good morning Kang-In, you look bright this morning," Seonghwa said with a smile as he greeted the boy named Kang-In. "Thanks doc, I'm feeling uplifted, I'm finally getting my surgery today! I've waited two whole years for my new heart."

"That's right, this is Y/N, she's my intern for the day, she will do a quick exam on you to check up on your stats."

Seonghwa watched you do the exam on the boy and asked you several questions to test your knowledge and he was surprised at your smart and quick answers. You got a kick out of it, watching his impressed expression and his small nodds.

The entire day was pretty fun, Seonghwa was still quite a young doctor and he told about his job with a lot of passion which intrigued you. When you laid in the on-call room that night you couldn't sleep. All you could think of was Seonghwa, the living example of perfection.

You looked around briefly, you're all alone. Would it be horrible if you slipped your hands into your panties just for a little bit? Deciding it would be okay you took your pants off, kicking it on the floor. You opened your legs and felt the damp spot on your underwear. You closed your eyes and slid your hand in your panties, rubbing your wet folds. "Mmh doctor," you moaned softly as you rubbed your clit, coating it with your arousal.

Suddenly the door opened and revealed dr. Park, his eyes widened at the sight of your bare cunt right in front of him. He closed the door instantly and froze for a few seconds just like you. ''What the hell are you doing?'' ''U-Uhm... Just...'' you stammered, not knowing what to do when your superior walks in on you touching yourself to the thought of him. ''S-Sorry sir, fuck I just-''

''Open those legs wider, I can't see it well enough.''

You felt like your heart stopped at those words, breath hitching in your throat. ''W-What? Sir...'' ''Well you obviously wanted someone to walk in on you, so you should at least give me a good show, right?''

You bit your lip and spread your legs wider, giving him a good view on your wet cunt. ''Why give a show when you could come here and taste it?'' This sentence went straight to Seonghwa's dick and before he could hold himself back he kneeled down in front of you, eyeing your glistening wet cunt up and down ''Christ,'' he cursed underneath his breath, ''What a beautiful fucking pussy... Who got you this wet, Y/N?''

Seonghwa licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit. ''Y-You, I was thinking about you. Fuck, you're so hot doctor, you are so hot I couldn't help but think of having your cock stuffed inside me,'' you cried out. ''Fuck, you're such a little minx, I love slutty interns,'' he grunted against your pussy, lapping it up and down. His long and skillful tongue felt warm on your labia. Seonghwa's eyes stared deep into your soul, making you whimper.

''Fuck, I'll be your slutty intern, doctor,'' you moaned as Seonghwa dug his tongue deep into your core, fucking it in and out of your hole. You guessed he must fool around with all the women around here but you didn't care. In the moment you wanted nothing more than be used by him.

Your walls clenched around his tongue and you whined out his name. ''Please, it's not enough,'' you cried, ''I need your cock sir, please.'' He smirked against your pussy and lapped at your clit, sending shivers down your spine. Your hands desperately reached for his head full of curly raven locks of hair, grabbing them and pulling them slightly, making the doctor moan into your core. You wanted him badly but he would not budge, eating your pussy like a starved man.

''Fuck, you're such a good little wet slut, all for me to ruin, keep begging for my cock, princess,'' he grunted as he worked on your clit, sucking and biting on it as his nails dug into the flesh of your thighs. ''Y-Yes, yours, doctor! Y-yours to ruin!'' It was wrong, God, it was so wrong of you to sleep with him but why did it feel so good then?

Seonghwa pulled those thoughts right out of your brain again as he sucked particularly hard on your clit, making your hips buck up. You felt the familiar warmth coil in your abdomen and your body grew restless. He held you down and stopped you from moving and you couldn't do anything else but let him make you come undone.

The orgasm hit you like a truck, washing over you as you chanted his name over and over. Seonghwa rode out your high with his delicious tongue and finished it off by pressing soft kisses over your used pussy and thighs. He hurried to pull down his pants and underwear and get on top of you, lifting your legs up and letting them rest on his shoulders. Seonghwa gave you no warning as he pushed inside you, nearly folding you in half as he did.

Soon he started moving at a fast pace, the sound of skin slapping together filling the room definitely able to be heard on the other side of the door. You could swear you heard a few giggles coming from the hallway but Seonghwa didn't accept the fact that your thoughts were drifting off again. He went harder, faster and with his fingers he grabbed your chin, forcing your mouth open. He spat in your mouth and ordered you to swallow, as you did.

A cry left your lips when he suddenly seemed to have found a sensitive spot inside you, something not many of your past lovers were able to do. ''You're such a good fucking slut for me, such a cute little pussy for me to fuck. You're gonna let me do this to you often, hm? Gonna let me fuck this pussy over and over whenever I want it, right?''

You mewled at his words and could only whine and nodd your head, nothing else processing in your head. The sensitiveness of your previous orgasm was building up to a second one and before you knew it you were clenching down on his cock, coming once more for him. ''That's a fucking good slut, that's it,'' he praised you.

He fucked you roughly, seemingly chasing his own orgasm. The doctor pounded into your pussy with such force you nearly forgot how to breathe. You dug your nails into the skin of his shoulders, moaning over and over. He cursed underneath his breath and his thrusts grew sloppier. ''You're gonna let me breed this pretty pussy right? Gonna let me fill it up with my cum? You're such a good little slut, such a good little fucktoy! Fuck, take it baby, take my fucking load,that's it!''

Seonghwa came with a loud moan and his hips stilled, cum spurting deep inside you. The two of you panted softly as he pulled out and laid down next to you. Before you could say anything to him his pager went off and you sighed. He pulled his underwear and pants up and hopped off the bed. ''This isn't over yet,'' he says with a wink before exiting the on-call room.

You sighed deeply and squirmed a little, giddy with the thought of continuing later on.

[zablife]

John + Solomons!sister thoughts:

This chaotic woman babysitting his kids. At this point all of them call her "Aunt y/n" ❤️. The thing is she can't control herself so, she's telling them a story but in the same way Alfie did with her (can you imagine Alfie telling bed stories to his little sister? 🫠) Well, so, she's telling them something like: "then the princess, who was in the fucking castle, was forced to marry this man . He was a cunt! A fucking cunt..."

And in that moment John returns, and he's wtf! 🤷‍♀️. That's not the kind of language to use in front of his kids! But they're so happy listening to her that in the end he let her finish the story 😂. Probably he joins his kids, too.

The Runaway (Partners in Crime AU)

John Shelby x Y/n Solomons 

GIF credit @alicent-targaryen

Read previous part Shots Fired

John sat in pensive silence, hands clasped in his lap as his older brother’s shadow passed over him threateningly. He felt like a child waiting for punishment, but no one could make him feel worse than the condemnation that came from within. His mind had been on your disappearance all day.

“What the fuck were you thinking, John?” Tommy said pacing the floor as he pinched the bridge of his nose harshly.

“I swear it wasn’t my idea, Tom. You know what she’s like,” John protested.

Tommy stopped in front of a chair, fingers curled around the back tightly as he glared at his brother, “Is that what I’m supposed to tell Alfie?”

John looked away in defeat, shoulders hunched. Why did you have to be so bloody stubborn, he wondered, anger bubbling up inside of him. When he’d gone to check on you yesterday, the nurse told him you’d discharged yourself hours earlier. He’d flown into a rage, overturning the bed and table until she handed him a letter between shaking fingertips, begging him to leave.

“Tell me once more,” Tommy insisted.

“Here, read it for yourself,” John answered with a huff. He fished the note from his coat pocket and tossed it across the kitchen table. It was creased and torn at the edges from where he’d already read it many times over, trying to discern meaning from your cryptic words. 

Tommy snatched it up, scanning the hastily scribbled writing and squinting in the dim light at your poor penmanship.

I couldn’t stay here. I have a personal matter to settle, but I’ll see you again in a familiar place when I'm done. I owe you a black eye and two kisses xx

“The fuck’s she on about, eh?” Tommy said, hurling the paper back at his brother. “What place?”

John simply shrugged, too exhausted to speculate.

Tommy narrowed his eyes suspiciously. “Were you two fucking? If so, you need to tell me now.”

John’s body pitched forward with a burst of laughter. “Oh, fuck off, Tommy!”

Growing irritated Tommy stormed out, calling over his shoulder, “Find Y/n, NOW! Before Alfie finds out about this!”

———————————————

Three weeks later…

“You won’t believe what happens next!” you tease out slowly, watching the little faces gathered around you.

“Does he find the princess?” Clara asked, clutching her teddy bear.

“Yes! But that’s not all! Cheeky bastard leans over for some heavenly bliss,” you said, kissing your hand to demonstrate dramatically.

The children shrieked and squealed before Katie piped up excitedly, “He kissed her?”

You nodded, “I mean…not a proper snog cause she weren’t awake. And, more importantly, girls, he didn’t ask! A lad’s gotta treat you with respect,” you reminded them with a wag of your finger.

“Can we please have another story after this one?” William interrupted, chubby hands pushed together pleadingly.

“You tell stories better than daddy,” Katie proclaimed with a giggle.

Following the sound of his children's laughter, John climbed the stairs quietly. His heart thundered in his chest as he strained to listen for the female voice he knew well. A thousand questions crossed his mind, but the relief he felt quieted them all as he caught a glimpse of you from the hall.

You shifted in the small bed to make yourself more comfortable, adjusting the sling that held your bad arm. “No, this is the last one. I’m cream crackered!” you said, stifling a yawn.

“Why do you talk funny?” Katie asked, her lisp adorably more pronounced.

“Why do you?” you countered defensively.

“I can’t help it, I’m missing my front teeth,” she replied sweetly, opening her mouth wide to reveal a wide gap.

You leaned forward to examine her, pinching her chin between your thumb and forefinger. Nodding thoughtfully you exclaimed, “Oh, right. Got a man down at the bakery who looks like you. He’s called Walter.”

“Is Walter getting new teeth like me?” Katie asked hopefully.

You furrowed your brow and shook your head, “No, I don’t think so.”

John leaned against the door frame watching you with his children. He was somewhat surprised to see this softer side of you, though he always knew you must have one. He watched the corners of your eyes crinkle into a smile as you continued joking with the children and he found himself smiling as well.

“I feel sorry for Walter then,” Katie said, big blue eyes looking up at you sorrowfully.

“No, don’t trouble yourself, love. He’s a right cunt,” you said matter-of-factly. "And a dirty little snitch as it turns out. Do you know what we do to them?"

John leaped forward. “Alright, bedtime!” he announced. “Y/n, can I speak with you?”

You looked up, realizing he was home. “So you finally found me,” you said with a grin. “Did you come for those kisses?” you teased as you rose to greet him, batting your lashes at him playfully. The children whooped in delight, jumping up and down as they watched both of you carefully.

“Bed!” John instructed, pointing for them to lie down. Guiding you out into the hall, he closed the door to their room and when you attempted to walk away from him, he pulled you back to him demanding, “Where the bloody hell have you been?”

“You speak to me like that again and it’ll be a black eye for you, understand?” you warned him.

“Alright, calm down,” he said, relinquishing his grip on your wrist. “I was worried,” he admitted in a quiet voice.

Crossing your arms over your chest, you looked down at your feet and nodded in understanding. “M sorry. Sabini’s men came looking for me at the hospital. I had to leave.”

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve taken care of it,” John said lowly.

Your eyes flicked up to his, a sudden spark lighting within you as you shook your head at him. “I don’t need you to fight my battles for me.”

John ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. “Fine, you don’t need me,” he said, pushing past you to take the stairs two at a time.

You followed after him into the kitchen where he was noisily opening cupboards to distract himself from your rejection.

“That’s not what I meant. I’m good at what I do so I don’t need my man to rescue me every time I’m in trouble, John."

“Oh, fuck off, Y/n!” he shouted, spinning around to look at you. "I may not be your man, but I'm still your partner. Why can't you trust me?” he asked, chest rising and falling quickly with his rapid heartbeat. You meant more to him than any woman had since Martha and he couldn’t understand why you insisted on shutting him out.

You stood staring at him, a lump in your throat in place of an explanation. Why were you like this? Was it years of working for Alfie or the fear of admitting you cared about someone? You couldn’t say. You’d never been good with words, but you had to try or this might be the end of your friendship.

“Look, I’m shit at telling people how I feel about them, alright? I learned everything I know about family from Alfie and you know what a numpty he is,” you let out a desperate laugh that fell flat when you saw John’s wide eyes staring back at you. “I couldn’t risk Sabini hurting you too. You’ve got kids to think of!” you said, eyes welling with tears. “I don't have anyone so it wasn't as much of a risk for me. You think I don’t trust you, but I’d fucking die for you, you arsehole.”

John exhaled the breath he’d been holding listening to you and rushed to embrace you, letting you cry into his shoulder. “Hey, you’ve got me. You’ve got all of us," he assured you as he stroked your hair gently. "Promise me you won’t do that again. I couldn’t lose you.”

You nodded against his shoulder, wiping your tears away with the back of your hand as embarrassment washed over you. John loosened his grasp on your shoulders and stepped back to give you space. Digging into his pocket, he bit his lip before offering a handkerchief. Looking up at you with a mischievous glint in his eye, he attempted to lighten the mood. “If you’re going to come round more often to see the kids, stick to bedtime stories, yeah?”

You hiccuped out a little laugh asking, “No small talk?”

“Not if it’s about Walter,” he joked, looking away with a chuckle. 

You blew your nose into the hanky as you mumbled, “Sleeping Beauty again, I reckon.”

John winced, “I hate that one.”

“Says the man who grabbed the tit of an unconscious woman,” you retorted playfully.

“How many times do I have to apologize for that? I did save your life that night you know!” John said, voice tinged with mild irritation.

A smile slowly began to creep over your face as you brought your hand up to caress his cheek softly, “Thank you, Barney.”

His bright blue eyes searched yours and found a sincerity he'd never seen before. “You’re welcome, alley cat," he whispered into the stillness of the night. His term of affection made you feel warm and comforted and for once you didn't feel like dismissing it with a joke or running away.

Read part 5 Plus One

[cyberball]

cair paravel

caspian x reader / no pronouns used / not rq

warnings: a couple swears, physical touch (as in not 18+ but still), mention of the word 'dress' but you can interpret that as any type of dress really

summary: you decide to reminisce on a select few memories of the beach at cair paraval in your room, one morning.

genre: yes it is fluffy but there's some slow burn/yearning thing going on, allusion to a modern!au in narnia, although u can assume it’s the same

notes: cyberball comeback! *crickets* anyway this is my highest word count thus far. ben barnes is actually fatal cuz now I'm obsessed with a character from my CHILDHOOD who I completely forgot even existed. alas, here we are, because caspian is a very very close second to Leo valdez, and I'm head over heels for that man. all this is to say, this will probably not be the last caspian fic and who knows, maybe I'll figure sth out for peter n ed as well!!! anyway enjoy i hope u like it / edit: WHY DID NO ONE TELL ME I MISSPELLED THE FIC TITLE

11:03 | 2896 words

11:45 AM

The spring breeze brushes against your face, and your eyes close in appreciation. From your balcony, the beach of Cair Paraval looks stunning; clear blue waters and a high tide to match. You let your thoughts linger on all the nights you’ve spent on said beach with a certain king of Narnia. You almost get up to try to find him, but you sit back down, realizing he must be busy. Your memories will have to sustain you for now.

4:23 AM – 1 month ago

Caspian’s hand came up to brush his hair out of his face for what seemed like the hundredth time that night – the sea breeze was relentless. You silently laughed at his efforts, as he leaned back into you, having given up on trying to tame his hair. His tall frame had somehow managed to sit snugly in between your legs, Caspian’s head resting on your chest. You were leaning against an enormous oak tree, the leaves swaying in tandem with the wind.

“Get up, you big goof,” you said, rolling your nightshirt’s sleeves up, determined to help him with his hair. He looked back at you for just a second before obeying your command. You loved his hair either way but you could tell it was annoying him right about now.

“What, you don’t like the unruly look my hair has taken on?” He asked, sitting up properly. You shook your head in amusement and looked away under his glance, pretending to look around for the clip you always kept on you, in case a predicament like this arose.

You gathered a little of his hair and tied it in place with the clip, letting a few pieces in the front fall out. The half-up-half-down look was his and your favorite.

He rested his head back onto your shoulder, looking ahead, the two of you still sitting. You had a ritual wherein you took one night each week to watch the sunrise. Now, even as the sun slowly woke up, the Narnian night sky glittered with tens of stars, and you wished you could look into his eyes. The black always reflected the light perfectly.

You two had been dating for about 2 weeks now. Caspian was your best friend and the person you trusted the most. Back when all you could think of on nights like these was your imagination of what it would feel like to have his lips against yours, looking into his eyes was a gesture far too intimate for two friends to share.

But now that it was a reality, you moved him off your shoulder and moved forward, so now you were facing him. On instinct, he picked you up by your thighs and placed you on his lap. Giggling, you took his stubble-covered face in your hands. After staring into your eyes for a length of time most people would find uncomfortable, he looked up at the sky. And there it was; the sky condensed into his eyes. He looked back up at you, and you couldn’t help but kiss him. You wondered how you ever lived without knowing the taste of his lips.

5:09 PM – 3 months ago

The sun filtered through your hair as you managed to push through it. It was setting, and the horizon looked particularly capturing today; pink and orange clouds shielding its light. Speaking of the sun, unbeknownst to you, yours had come up behind the spot you had claimed on the sand. Placing a kiss on your head – and consequently making butterflies fly around in your stomach – Caspian took the place next to you, as he often did.

More often, he’d only made rare appearances in your solitude, as the mantle of being king had taken its toll on his free time. You had found yourself reminiscing on the time when every other free second you both had, you would spend with each other. You would train together as well, and while that hadn’t necessarily stopped, he had significantly less time to do so. So you missed it, and you missed the close contact, where you could pass off the hitched breaths and stuttering glances as something other than what they were.

Caspian was your best friend. Nothing more, although you found yourself coveting the same. You don’t quite remember when it changed; when the way you looked at him turned from friendly appreciation to lingering on his smile. You felt that maybe he felt the same when he’d make you laugh and then drink in your reaction; when you showed him a new dress and his gaze lingered on you for far more time than was needed to look at the dress; when, a few days ago, you were playing with his hair, as you often did, and he unabashedly stared at your lips; and even now, when he kissed your head and instinctually rested his hand on yours. His thumb caressed your palm, and you had to physically restrain yourself from melting onto the beach.

At least then you could be washed away with the sea. You could feel his gaze on you. “What, idiot?” You asked him, not turning to look at him, a playful smile playing on your lips. “That’s no way to address your king,” he replied smoothly with a smirk of his own. You wanted to wipe it right off his stupid, pretty face.

As happy as you were with his presence next to you, you didn’t forget how your getaways to the beach were much frequent just you now instead of you both. “Sorry, Your Majesty,” you muttered sarcastically. You winced as his face fell at your tone, immediately regretting your words, knowing how he literally had no time for anything other than his duties. You couldn’t be mad at him for that. He beat you to the apology, “I am sorry. I know I have seen you less and less these past few weeks, and it’s not an excuse, merely a reason, but my work as king has taken up most if not all my time. Regardless, I could have made time for you. Aslan knows you’re much more important to me than anything else,” he spoke the last words under his breath, but you caught them.

You both had talked about this before – how much you meant to each other – but every time he brought it up, your heart beat just a little bit faster. “Cas, don’t be sorry. I know you’re busy and it’s selfish of me to be mad at you for that. I’m sorry,” you replied, looking away. “You’re not being selfish. You’re the least selfish person I know. You’ve done nothing wrong here,” he said softly, pushing your hair behind your ears. A hue of red dusted your cheeks at the gesture and you smiled up at him, “It’s okay, Cas,” you assured him and noticed his eyes crinkling at the nickname, “Just promise to meet me whenever you can,” you said, playing with his fingers. “Yes, I know, I will use all my free time on you. You don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, a glint in his eyes. You laughed amusedly, “You’re a good king, you know,” and he searched your eyes for any sign of a lie. He didn’t find it, even behind your teasing tone. “Just because I dedicated my free time to you?” he questioned and you pretended to think, “Hmm… yes.” Laughing

, you rested your head on his shoulder. You were happy to have him, even if your affections could only be as intimate as best friends.

2:58 AM – 2 months ago

You had just made a particularly hilarious joke, and Caspian had been laughing about it for what seemed like ages. “My god, calm down,” you managed to say through your own laughter, and he silently brought his forehead down to your shoulder, his own shoulders shaking from laughter.

After finally calming down, he said, “Never do that again,” a smile still brilliant on his face, despite the dim moonlight filtering through the clouds. “What, never make you laugh again?” you grinned, sucking your teeth, “sounds like a challenge to me. I’m too funny,” you joked, running your hand through your hair. Out of the corner of your eyes, you saw Caspian roll his eyes at you, and you wordlessly shoved him for it.

“That cloud looks like your hair in the morning,” you pointed out, gesturing to a cloud by the sea line. Caspian looked at you with an unamused face, “Ha-ha. Very funny,” he replied deadpan, but a grin eventually broke out on his face.

A long, comfortable silence stretched out between the two of you. You carefully rested your head on his shoulder and tried to take this for what it was: two friends enjoying each other’s company, and not letting your thoughts wander to a hope where maybe, someday, you could be more than that. Because it could never be. Caspian did a great job of reminding you of the fact when he piped up, “Today was sort of terrible,” and in response, you looked up at him through your lashes, beckoning him to continue. “The court is back at it with the marriage proposals and potential alliances,” he explained, and your heart dropped.

Oh. “Any of the potential matches interest you?” you questioned, silently hoping the answer was no. Regardless, you braced yourself for the impact, but he replied, very softly, might one add, “No,” and ran a hand through his hair. “Really?” you asked in an unamused tone, “none of them?” you were a tad bit eager to know his true feelings. So he pointed it out, “Desperate, are we? Why do you want to see me married off so quickly?” he asked, a smirk playing on his annoyingly pretty face. There was a sort of desperation in his eyes that you didn’t quite catch, however.

“Of course not, Your Highness,” you teased, “Curse me for wanting to see my king happy,” and rolled your eyes. “And anyway, it’s quite the opposite,” you muttered under your breath, sure that he wouldn’t hear it, but he did.

Fuck. He understood what you meant by it as well; he always did, and now he looked at you with something newfound in his eyes. Shit.

Silence. Why wasn’t he saying anything?

“That is the last thing that would make me happy,” he finally spoke, and you silently sent up a prayer to whichever god let him ignore whatever you had said.

“And what would?” you asked, a teasing tone in your voice, but you both knew you genuinely wanted to know. Were you a possibility?

He didn’t reply. You chuckled softly and slightly shoved him, “What? I asked you something,” you said, still giggling. Your laughter had brought a smile to his face and you wanted to evaporate.

He took one of your hands and started absentmindedly playing with your fingers, as he often did. “I just… it’s a little funny to me how many times I’ve asked you that same question and you’ve not responded,” he confessed, black eyes staring you down, and then moving away when you hesitated in responding. “We tell each other everything,” a pause, “Right?” he asked, and hundreds of unsaid feelings poured into the small gap between you two, which he was slowly but surely closing. All the while his hands were still on yours, and you wondered if this was it. The day you finally get to call him yours, or the day you part ways.

“Caspian…” was all you managed, a little choked. Had his face always been so close to yours? You swore you could feel the beat of his eyelashes on your face, which was no doubt painted deep red right about now. It didn’t matter, because so was his.

You never knew eyes could speak like this – albeit, Caspian’s had always been able to, but never to this degree – begging, desperation, and hope, all in just two pupils. You literally were choked now; words had left you. You always told him, in matters of romance, you would never be able to make the first move. He had always laughed at that, the irony of you being such a bold and fearless person, yet being afraid of showing vulnerability like this. Although he himself could never chide you about that; both of you knew his stubbornness, especially in affairs of the heart.

He was not a daft man. A little oblivious, sure, but he knew the way you looked at him. You hadn’t tried to hide it either; in some masochistic way, even though you had your doubts about his feelings, you still wore yours on your face. You regretted it sometimes, when if he ended up listening to his court one day, then you would feel like a fool for putting your heart out on the line.

But so had he. Later on, you would realize that you were much more oblivious than him. He had half the decency to never completely assume that you were interested in him romantically, but he knew you. And you knew him.

So it made sense now to you. His lingering glances, especially those on your lips; the forehead kisses, which he had started a long time ago before you thought of him this way – however, they had grown much more frequent and much less chaste; and, oh. The words he said to you just a couple of days ago, lounging in his bed, your head in his lap, when you had joked about him being in love with you, “I’m not going to deny it.” You knew when he was joking. This was not such an instance, even though, immediately after, he tried to play it off as such. You knew it. Why hadn’t you said something?

Your name fell from his lips now, once more, a silent plea.

His lips ghosted over yours once more. You closed your eyes briefly, as you did when in a predicament, and exhaled hard.

Caspian sent up a prayer to whichever god would take it and made to connect your lips. You met him halfway.

You remember the first kiss like the back of your hand. You just about whimpered when his taste reached your tongue; the taste of the chocolate you both had snuck just a few minutes earlier was fresh on his lips. His rather large hands steadied you by your waist, and you still felt like crumbling by his touch.

A few seconds later, you pulled away reluctantly, out of breath. His eyes slowly fluttered open and his face was redder than you had ever seen it. You grinned and pecked his lips once more, and he felt your smile on him. It wasn’t a feeling he thought he’d ever experience.

Giddy, he mirrored your smile and kissed you harder than the last time.

“I knew you had a thing for me,” you said, right after he pulled away, breathless and smiling. “I’m not going to deny it,” he gloated, and you rested your forehead on his shoulder, laughing.

You were going to deal with the court some other day. It was just you and him right now.

11:56 AM – Present time

“Enjoying the weather, my love?” Caspian’s voice sounds out as his arms wrap around your torso. You slightly crane your head to look at him, shamelessly staring at his frame; simple white button-up, black pants. A rather handsome look on him.

“Your pick-up lines have always been terrible,” you remark, turning your head back around, a smirk on your face.

“And yet you were just checking me out,” he shoots back, resting his chin on the top of your head. You roll your eyes in response. “Checkmate?” he teases.

“Whatever. You can hardly blame me when you look this good,” you respond smoothly, turning around to face him while raising a hand to play with the ends of his hair.

“Have you seen yourself?” he says comfortably. His hands are resting easy on your hips and his gaze is on you, focused like you hung the stars in the sky. He always looks at you like this.

You shake your head, silently laughing, and crane your head to look out at the waters. It’s true that no one loves the sea quite like Caspian does, but that’s the very reason you appreciate it. His eyes light up when he talks of his adventures and voyages. Interestingly enough, there have only been two instances when the joie de vivre shines in his eyes; once when he thinks of the sea, and twice when he thinks of you. You’ve noticed it. The thought gets you giddy each time.

There’s a comfortable silence between the two of you. He places a kiss on your head and leans down to kiss your lips. Every time he does, it feels like the first time. Your eyes flutter close, and you notice something more in the way his lips move against yours. A message.

And then you realize.

Three words.

He pulls away, exhaling softly. A pause.

“I love you,” he says, your name on his lips like it always belonged there.

You waste no time. “I love you too, Caspian,” and he grins.

You mean it. And Aslan knows he means it too.

tagging: @noorie101 @padfootagain (one of my fav cas writers <3) — if u wanna be tagged please send in an ask!

[puppetmaster13u]

@f4nd0m-fun here (I hope they allow us to ask with secondary blogs soon)

Just how wild do you like your Batfam cryptids? I've got ideas for days.

One is a wing fic where all the bats essentially end up half demon. Thomas and Martha make a deal with Alfred to help fix the city and clean up the curses and everything, and. Alfred asks for 'the souls of your descendants' at the point, not caring much for humanity but hoping to get ahead of those pesky demons in his soul collection (so and so said he has Constantine's soul but that's only a piece! What about a bunch of souls that have been tainted by the spirit of a city that has never had reason to hope? Now those are some rare and dark souls).

The Waynes were hoping he'd take their souls instead but he refuses (maybe they're too full of hope or something) but, over time, he grows attached and ends up giving Bruce a shard of his power, allowing him to transform into a demonic winged form based on an animal for his protection after his parents die. When he's young the form is a snowy owl, but once he come back and became Batman his wings have changed. Each of the babies is the same way. As Robin, they gain their baby wings, but, once they move to a new name, their wings evolve.

'The Demon's Head' isn't just a fancy title, the Al'ghul's are demon descended, so Damien is at least a quarter demon even at the beginning, but Alfred's power can't be passed genetically like they thought, so he was born grounded. In this, he shows up sooner, Talkia asking Jason to take Damien with him to his father since she knows her father will kill him for being wingless.

Tim, poor baby. He couldn't fly as Robin because his wings were a shattered mimicry of Jason's Robin wings. He felt like he was in the shadow of the previous Robin, making the 'replacement' nickname sting even more, but, eventually, he grows into the wings of a cardinal and learns to fly.

I'm not sure if Alfred marks Barbara as his person, but if not, maybe he regrets not doing so, thinking that she might not have ended up paralyzed if he'd given her power. But also she's not really considered a 'Wayne descendant' life the kids Bruce adopted, so he'd have to directly make the deal with her. Maybe he does this with Stephanie when she comes along, still thinking about how Barbara might've been better off with a deal. Also, he keeps trying to hold off on gathering their souls because he's grown attached. I figure he'd probably end up wanting to turn them into proper demons too tho when they eventually die but, for now, until the city has been restored (if it ever will be), the Batfam is essentially immortal, and Alfred might be pulling some strings so no one realizes the Waynes are as well. As a side note, I debated Alfred x Lady Gotham for this story.

-

Then I had a dpxdc version of this where the wings were still demonic in origin but basically Scarecrow and Bruce are many many family lines removed cousins from an ancestor who was siblings with Jack Nightingale. On top of that, Danny had wings but they got charred when he was electrocuted. This one also has Clock x Pariah and they have wings due to something to do with ghosts, Danny gets a cloak made out of their feathers while his ghost side slowly grows its own wings (but he'll never have wings as a living again).

-----

Sorry for the long send, I got a bit carried away, but if you want I can dig up my AU again and share what I have for the wings at least, not sure what else I've got written down.

#colony of bats AU

Honestly I love both of these ideas, but what if they were say, combined.

Alfred gifts Bruce a shard of his power- everyone knows the Waynes have wings, even if in most cases too small to fly. But the wings are feathered, usually bright and flashy for the men who inherit the trait.

Which means they're very identifiable. But like you said, Alfred gets (ugh) attached to this little mortal. He's practically raised him and honestly thinks it's adorable watching him manipulate the other richfolk at galas into thinking he's such a "polite young man." Bruce is practically his baby!

So he gifts him a bit of his blood (which we know via Constantine can extend ones lifespan including giving them a bit of healing) and an itty bitty piece of his own power. Just enough for Bruce to be able to willingly call upon it. Just enough for him to disappear into shadows. Just enough for his eyes to gain a hint of an unholy glow. Just enough for a hint of claws. Just enough for feathered wings to shift into jagged mimicries of his own.

You know what could be an interesting thing? The wings are Realms in origin. We know the FentonNightingales separated into the Fentons and Nightingales some time after Jack, so whose to say that the Nightingales didn't get into magic. Perhaps they were given a gift to thank them after a bit of protection or assistance. And the infinite realms are well, infinite. It attaches to all worlds, including say the more demonic ones. But whose to say none of the Fentons made a deal or three in the generations following. They were witch hunters after all, perhaps they need something to keep up with the "traitors" of their bloodline.

Perhaps a deal which resulted in those matching wings.

Now, how could they find out their relation with the Fentons? While there could be the adoption route, what if instead it was right after Danny's accident.

He died screaming, visibly got electrocuted, his wings are torched, there's no way they're not taking him to the hospital. Which means things like blood tests, maybe even a donated organ or two because someone doesn't get blasted with that much electricity without consequences.

Which, it's the batfamily, they definitely have alarms set up for any sort of family pings for both themselves and their rogues. Just in case.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Also had no idea where to put it but if this includes demons and ghosts feeding on fear, or emotions in general, then Scarecrow could be instinctively attempting to feed and grow his wings. Also he deserves raven or rook wings. Maybe a jay's if you wanna go for color.

Oh my gosh, even if Alfred and Gotham don't get together, they definitely have tea together and spar. They're definitely co-parenting either platonically or romantically, it doesn't matter this is their specialist lil boy. Who then brings even more of the specialist lil ones ever!

God I love the implications of Clockwork and Pariah creating a cloak of wings for a ghostling for them to use as their feathers slowly grow back. Love what that implies for the culture of the ghost zone. Love the idea of it maybe having an influence on Danny's wings in ghost form since a ghost's appearance is influenced by their image about themself.

[shadowsingers-mate]

Healing (Elucien Week Day 7: AU or Tention / Healing)

A/N: Thank you very much for showing such love on my first ever fic and submission for Day 5 Masks. Here is another piece I've written! Happy Elucien Week!!

Pairing: Lucien Vanserra x Elain Archeron

Lucien stood on the balcony, the cold night air biting at his skin. The solstice celebrations echoed through the Night Court, laughter and music weaving through the night. He took a deep breath, steadying himself. Tonight, he would do something he had long avoided. Tonight, he would approach Elain.

He adjusted his coat, a deep green that complimented his red hair and mismatched eyes, trying to suppress the nervous flutter in his stomach. His fingers brushed against the small, intricately wrapped box in his pocket. The bracelet inside was a symbol, a token of his feelings, of his devotion, a gift for Elain.

With one last look at the revelry below, he turned and walked through the halls. The thread that joined him to Elain no matter the distance, tugged him in the right direction. He didn't need to seek out Elain or ask anyone where she was. He just followed the bond.

He found Elain in a secluded corner of the garden, away from the noise and lights. She stood by a fountain, the soft glow of the moon highlighting her delicate features. She looked ethereal. She was beautiful, so incredibly beautiful

Lucien's heart ached at the sight of her, the bond between them pulling him closer. But he tread carefully, not wanting to startle her.

"Elain," he called softly.

She turned, surprise flickering across her face before it settled into a guarded expression. Lucien approached slowly, his hands in his pockets to show he meant no harm.

"I hope I’m not intruding," he said, stopping a few feet away from her. "I have something for you."

Elain's eyes flicked to the box in his hand, then back to his face. She didn't speak, but her silence was nothing new to him. He offered her a tentative smile and held out the box.

"Happy Solstice," he said, his voice gentle.

She paused, then hesitantly took the box, her fingers brushing against his briefly. The touch sent a jolt through him, but he kept his composure. As she unwrapped the gift, he watched her, noting every subtle shift in her expression.

"It's a bracelet," she said quietly, holding it up to the moonlight.

"Yes," Lucien replied. "It's a token of my loyalty to you. A reminder that I'm here, always."

Elain looked at him then, really looked at him, and he felt exposed under her gaze. The silence stretched between them, heavy with things unsaid.

"Thank you," she replied, her voice short and guarded.

Lucien nodded, taking a steadying breath, his heart hammering in his chest as he met Elain's guarded gaze. "Elain," he began, his voice low and earnest, "I know this is unexpected, but I have something important to say. Something about...us." The last word sounded both foreign and comforting to him.

She hesitated, then gave a small, almost imperceptible nod. Lucien took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts, his feelings. This was it. The moment he had dreaded and longed for in equal measure.

"From the moment our bond snapped into place, my world shifted," he began, his voice steady but filled with emotion. "I was bewildered and overwhelmed, yet there was a profound sense of rightness. My instinct was to protect you, to be by your side no matter the circumstances."

Elain's eyes softened, and Lucien pressed on, encouraged by her attention.

"You are the embodiment of grace and beauty, Elain. Your strength and resilience inspire me every day. I see how you navigate through your own struggles, and it humbles me." He stepped closer to her. "My heart aches to be closer to you, to offer you the support and comfort you deserve, but I understand that it may not be what you need right now."

He paused, searching her face for any sign of rejection, but she remained silent, her expression unreadable.

"Please know that my feelings for you are genuine and profound. I love you with a depth that words can barely convey. This love is not a demand but a gift," he took another careful step closer to her. "Your happiness and well-being are paramount to me, and if keeping my distance is what ensures your comfort, then I will gladly do so. Your peace of mind is worth any sacrifice on my part."

Elain's eyes shimmered with unshed tears, and Lucien's heart broke a little more at the sight.

"The bracelet is not meant to bind you but to remind you that I am here, always. Whenever you feel alone or uncertain, I hope you can look at it and know that someone cares for you deeply, without conditions or expectations."

Lucien swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words. "Life has taken so much from both of us, and I do not want to add to your burdens. Instead, I want to be a source of solace and strength for you, even from far away. I want you to thrive, to find joy in every moment, to feel safe and loved. And if I have to remain unspoken and distant to ensure that, then I will accept that with grace."

Elain looked down at the bracelet, her fingers tracing the delicate design. Lucien's heart pounded in his chest, the silence between them stretching on.

"You are more precious to me than anything I have ever known," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "I will continue to hope for a future where you might see me as more than just a distant presence. But until then, I remain your steadfast admirer, your silent guardian, and your devoted mate."

Elain's gaze lifted to his, tears now freely flowing down her cheeks. Lucien stepped closer, gently wiping a tear from her face.

"Thank you, Lucien," she whispered, her voice trembling. "I... I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything," he replied softly. "Just know that I'm here for you, always."

She nodded, and Lucien felt a glimmer of hope. Maybe, just maybe, this was the beginning of healing for both of them.

As they stood there, the moonlight casting a gentle glow around them, Lucien felt a sense of peace wash over him. He had bared his soul, and while the future was uncertain, he knew one thing for sure: his love for Elain would never waver.

With a final, lingering look, Lucien turned to walk away, leaving Elain with his gift and his heart.

"Lucien."

He stopped in his tracks, turning slowly to face her. Her expression was softer now, her eyes shining with something he couldn't quite place.

"Would you... stay and join me for the solstice celebration?" she asked, her voice gentle and inviting.

For a moment, Lucien could only stare, his heart pounding with a mixture of relief and hope. Then he smiled, a genuine, heartfelt smile, and nodded. "I'd like that very much."

Together, they walked back inside, a silent understanding forming between them. It was a small step, but for Lucien, it was everything. Tonight, for the first time in a long while, he felt a glimmer of hope. And as they entered the warmth and light of the celebration, he felt that the tension that had long lingered between them might begin to ease, and perhaps they could start to heal, together

----

@elucienweekofficial Thank you for all the support and an amazing platform for us to show our love and appreciation for these characters.

Thank you lovely @sad-scarred-sassy for all the love and encouragement. I'll never forget your kind words.

[alxtiny]

Ask : Hello !! Could you write a comfort and fluff story with Seonghwa in which reader’s parents are being mean to their child by saying they’re ugly, that they need to lose weight and fatshaming them, even sometimes hitting them and Seonghwa helping reader through it all and comforting them please 😞 with extra cuddles and kisses

Hey beautiful! | Park Seonghwa x Reader

Synopsis: when seonghwa reminds you of how beautiful you really are

Pairing:  Park Seonghwa x gn!reader, domestic au

Genre: comfort, fluff, angst

Word count: 1089

Warnings: mentions of body image issues, abuse (verbal and physical)

Notes: seonghwa fits the plot so perfectly TT i think we all deserve a seonghwa in our lives

masterlist 

requested by @s1riushwa !!! Thank you for requesting!!!!!

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over your cozy apartment. You hummed softly as you bustled around the kitchen, preparing a simple yet delicious breakfast for yourself and the special someone who was going to grace your day. Today, your boyfriend, Seonghwa, was visiting, and you couldn't help but feel your heart flutter with anticipation.

As you set the table, looking at the waffles dripping in chocolate syrup and whipped cream, you couldn't shake off the memories of your parents' hurtful words and actions from the past, when you would fix up similar meals for yourself. They had always been critical of your appearance, often resorting to fat-shaming and even violence. Their toxic behaviour had taken a toll on your self-esteem and confidence. But you had managed to gather the strength to move out and start a new chapter of your life, away from their negativity.

Just as you finished setting the table, the doorbell rang. You hurried to open the door, and there stood Seonghwa, a radiant smile on his face that instantly melted away any lingering anxiety. You hadn’t seen him in so long because of his work but now that he was here there was a new aura of calm around you.

"Hey, beautiful," he greeted, pulling you into a warm embrace. His arms wrapped around you securely, and you felt a sense of safety and comfort in his presence.

"Hey," you replied, your voice tinged with a mixture of happiness and relief.

Seonghwa stepped into your apartment, his eyes scanning the space appreciatively. "Everything looks wonderful," he commented, admiring the effort you had put into creating a warm atmosphere.

Over breakfast, the two of you shared stories, laughter, and dreams. Seonghwa's genuine interest in your thoughts and experiences always made you feel valued, slowly chipping away at the wounds of the past. But as the conversation drifted to your parents' impending visit, you felt a familiar tightness in your chest.

Seonghwa noticed the change in your demeanor, his brows furrowing in concern. "Is something bothering you, love?" he asked softly, reaching across the table to hold your hand.

You sighed, your gaze dropping to your intertwined fingers. "My parents are coming to visit later today," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "I'm just... worried about how they'll treat me, you know?"

Seonghwa's grip on your hand tightened reassuringly. "I'm here for you, always. And remember, you're strong and beautiful just the way you are. Don't let their words define you."

Later that afternoon, the knock on the door signaled your parents' arrival. Your heart raced, anxiety clawing at your chest. Seonghwa squeezed your hand, silently offering his support, before you mustered the courage to open the door.

"Hello," you greeted, trying to sound composed despite the storm of emotions raging within you.

Your parents walked in, their demeanor superficially polite. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier as their judgmental gazes swept over your appearance. You could almost hear their silent criticisms as they took in every inch of you.

As the hours passed, you found yourself reverting to the familiar feelings of inadequacy. Your parents' comments were laced with subtle insults, and the atmosphere grew increasingly suffocating. You retreated into your own thoughts, aching for the day to end.

Eventually, Seonghwa suggested going out for a walk to get some fresh air, and you eagerly agreed. The moment you stepped outside, you took a deep breath, feeling the weight of your parents' negativity gradually lifting from your shoulders.

Seonghwa slipped his hand into yours, his touch a gentle reminder that you were not alone in this. "I'm proud of you for facing this," he murmured, his voice a soothing balm to your wounded soul.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm golden glow over the city, you and Seonghwa found a quiet park bench to sit on. The sound of rustling leaves and distant laughter filled the air, creating a serene backdrop for your thoughts.

"You know," Seonghwa began softly, "beauty is not just about appearance. It's about strength, kindness, and the way your heart shines through."

His words resonated deeply within you, stirring a newfound sense of self-worth. You turned to him, tears glistening in your eyes. "Thank you, Seonghwa. You always know how to make me feel better."

He smiled, his thumb gently wiping away a tear that had escaped. "That's what I'm here for."

The evening breeze ruffled your hair as Seonghwa leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a sweet and comforting kiss. In that moment, you felt an overwhelming surge of gratitude for having him in your life.

As you returned to your apartment, the heaviness from earlier had faded, replaced by a renewed determination to not let your parents' toxicity define you. You knew it wouldn't be easy, but you had Seonghwa by your side, ready to catch you whenever you stumbled.

With Seonghwa's encouragement, you decided to confront your parents before they left. Sitting them down, you spoke from the heart, expressing how their words and actions had affected you over the years. It was a difficult conversation, but it was a necessary step towards healing.

As your parents left, there was a mixture of tension and reflection in the air. You closed the door behind them, turning to Seonghwa with a mixture of exhaustion and relief. He enveloped you in a warm embrace, letting you know that he was there to support you through every step of this journey.

"You did amazing," he murmured, his voice vibrating against your ear. "Remember, you're strong, and you deserve all the love and happiness in the world."

Over the next few days, Seonghwa's presence was a constant source of comfort. He held you through moments of doubt and frustration, reminding you of your worth and helping you rebuild the shattered pieces of your self-esteem.

One evening, as the two of you cuddled on the couch, you traced patterns on Seonghwa's chest, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips. "Thank you for being my rock," you whispered, your voice filled with gratitude.

Seonghwa tilted your chin up, his eyes locking onto yours with a warmth that sent shivers down your spine. "You're my everything," he replied, his lips finding yours in a gentle and reassuring kiss.

With Seonghwa beside you, the wounds of the past were gradually mending, and though the road ahead might still hold challenges, you were ready to face them head-on, knowing that you were not alone. You were not afraid of what others might think, cause you knew your biggest supporter always had your back.

© alxtiny . Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my works on any platform in any way.

Send an ask or a message to be added to taglist 

DISCLAIMER: THIS IS PURE FICTION AND NOT RELATED TO THE MEMBERS OF ATEEZ IN REAL LIFE PLEASE DO NOT TAKE IT SERIOUSLY

Taglist: @sushi0517

[nogacheloveka-blog]

The Bad Sanses somehow ended up in the Backrooms. №6

next 7

prev 5

This is the translation of the another post from Russian to English. I understand English, but it is very difficult for me to write in English, so I asked chat GPT to help me. I have corrected some parts, but there still may be mistakes.

Heh, Killer found his lost family. I thought it was funny to depict him like that. To gather information, I use both English and Russian wikis on Backrooms. Level 2.1 is in the Russian version, but for some reason it's not in the English one. I won't be too accurate with the canon and will even take liberties with it. It's quite confusing and I don't want to get too tangled up in it, since my story isn't serious. I'm just having fun.

Shaking through a couple more rooms and turning into random corners, the group began to hear the sound of working machinery. Since there were no other landmarks, it was decided to follow the noise. Along the way, they encountered more strange inscriptions and drawings on the walls. Some were particularly interesting, and Dust even wrote them down in his notebook . It seems he gets some pleasure from working with paper and pen. Especially since the previous owner kept notes sloppily and confusingly, making it not always clear what was a note for later words and what was just random phrases or a list of necessary items (shopping list?). He also constantly mentioned other people, which sent shivers down their spines.

Apparently, people mainly lived in the Hub and in small numbers in some other levels and locations.

To get to the Hub, enter the Konami code at the entrance to level 1. You can also accidentally get there through doors on other levels.

Did this mean that the locals also mess around with files? What a headache .

The group decided to avoid people for as long as possible. Of course, Error wasn't particularly worried: he was capable of destroying AUs that were sometimes entirely made up of people. (Nightmare knew that sometimes it required several regenerations in the Anti-Void, but decided to keep that knowledge to himself) .

As they made their way to the rumbling machines, the Bad Guys noticed that the temperature of the air began to change: rising sharply above Hotland and then dropping to the coolness of Snowdin. Of course, for their magic bodies, this didn't pose any harm, but they had never seen such jumps in the atmosphere before. But it seemed to be a distinctive feature of the level they were moving through.

In one of the dark locked rooms, they came across a new type of creature. Their aura seemed quite familiar . They were clearly strange distorted monsters from the underground. Perhaps Snowdin's dogs or something similar. They didn't attack, but constantly wanted to approach and sniff, which made Error swear.

These speechless creatures got along well with Nightmare, through whose ability to suppress and ignite emotions, they could communicate with them in a way, instilling the necessary direction of thoughts and receiving an emotional response. Here, the Keeper of Negativity was in his element. It was only annoying that he couldn't feed on them: Smilers simply reacted to external irritants and were slightly smarter than amoebas.

However, according to records , these monsters willingly attacked humans, and humans were terrified of them. Dust immediately set about correcting the record about them.

Smilers Nasty things, but I've been lucky enough to avoid them so far. They say there's another nest besides the Hive with these creatures alien to our world. Researchers seem to suspect that they're really from another planet. Tips : - Maintain eye contact and slowly back away. - Be quiet and don't make loud noises. - Use Smiler Repellent. - Turn off all light sources you're equipped with. Prohibitions: - Panic and run away from the Smiler if it hasn't started chasing you. - Make loud noises.- Leave your light sources on. -------------- *are safe and friendly like dogs. Killer fit in well with their pack. They love light and seem to eat it somehow. Not so strange, after all, photons do exist.

They continued on with their entourage.

From the hot spots of level 2, you can get to 2.1 (nothing interesting, leads to level 3). Some doors here lead to level 3. A strange colorful curved door leads to 283 (DAMNED CLOWN HELL).

No one wanted to go to "Clown Hell", even though the notebook compiler had been wrong about the danger level of various phenomena more than once. But if the locations of this place were called "levels," then to get out of here, they had to go through all of them, right? It sounds logical.

The group still managed to get to level 3. Although it wasn't without problems. The notes spoke of two paths: accidentally through doors and through hot areas. They seemed to have used both at the same time.

Finding a place with high temperature or doors wasn't that difficult thanks to the group's overall number, along with the Smilers . Error preferred to simply stretch threads in all directions for some reason ( He won't get his glasses in this company ) . Then it was a simple routine of opening doors in the found "hot spots." Smilers couldn't open doors themselves, so it turned out to be impossible to entrust this to them.

During these searches, they found some office paper and a few spare pens for Dust. It seems he and Cross started communicating better with each other, working with the notebook and supplementing it with their observations.

Killer entertained himself by drawing various indecencies on the walls with the help of several aerosol paint cans. Horror also drew on the walls, but his actions were more practical and consisted of leaving marks on explored doors. Essentially, they were doing the same job, just in different ways.

Finally, behind one of the doors, there was a corridor of dusty brick, similar to the many Ruins of underground dungeons they had visited. Error confirmed that this was a transition to another level. He still didn't understand how to predict where they would end up, except through visual inspection of the passage. Along with his complete helplessness during his Loadings between locations, this drove him crazy. He had extremely high demands on himself. The only thing that slightly comforted his wounded pride in such moments was the hope and need for the gaze of others looking at him with a question.

Nightmare belongs to Jokublog Killer belongs to RahafWabas Dust belongs to Ask-DustTale Horror belongs to Sour-Apple-Studios Error belongs to CrayonQueen Cross belongs to JakeiArtwork

[dansconcepts]

Rise of the "Archons" + One Adeptus + Two Other Immortals

Aka an introductory excerpt of a Rise of the Guardians-inspired Genshin Impact AU from my archives.

Roles to Note:

E. Aster Bunnymund: Xiao (guardian of safety; protector of purity)

Jack Frost: Venti (guardian of fun; protector of freedom)

Sandman: Morax (guardian of duty; protector of responsibility)

Toothiana: Lumine (guardian of memory; protector of growth)

North: Aether (guardian of ambition; protector of dreams)

Pitch Black: Childe

"...Tartaglia?" Lumine hisses. She averts her gaze, landing on the closest figure to her. Her eyes trail to Morax, whose lips are pressed in a thin line with a hand tightly clasped around his tea cup. His eyes reflect exactly how she feels- that tinge of disbelief, with the added aggravation of a lingering foreboding. 

She can't help but attempt to swallow the dread slowly rising within her. With a hardened gaze, she asks, "He was here?"

Aether nods. "I saw water creatures made of black. There was black water everywhere, actually-"

"What?" Xiao interjects. "What do you mean by water? I thought you said you saw Tartaglia?"

The Abyss leader frowns, rubbing the back of his neck with a sigh. "Well… Not exactly."

Xiao scoffs. "Tch. We've all gathered here for something you aren't even certain about. This is pathetic!" 

"Oh, c'mon Xiao! Give me a break."

"Rex Lapis. Is what he's saying truthful? I feel I need a more verifiable source."

"Hey!"

The surprise from such a childish argument occurring has Lumine giggling slightly at their antics. 

"Paimon was there! It really was Tartaglia!" A small fairy chimes, stomping a tiny foot into the air. She whines loudly, scolding, "Aether, you big dummy! You forgot to talk about how the water literally formed a silhouette of Tartaglia!"

"Oh yeah, that's right! Whoops." He chuckles sheepishly. "Oh-ow!-Paimon!-stop-OW!-hitting-me!... just why does your tiny fists pack such a punch…!" 

In the midst of it all, Morax hums. It causes everyone to trail off, and even Paimon ceases in her hits. 

"And… are you able to confidently swear that, within this very establishment, you saw Tartaglia?"

The blond nods, any ounce of a smile ripped completely off his face. 

"I understand it sounds like speculation, but I- and Paimon too- are confident in what we saw. The water was too familiar. The darkness? Equally so. And the figure forming into the man himself was just as telling."

He breathes. "Tartaglia is back, and he's up to something."

Morax hums once more before going back to his tea in silence.

Xiao rolls his eyes. "Rex Lapis may be satisfied, but I am not. You dragged me away to provide, what, a half-assed warning that you could've sent, I don't know, your fairy to deliver?"

"I'm not some carrier pigeon!" Paimon feebly protests. 

Paimon is easily ignored.

"Well, I'm sorry I thought it was of grave enough importance that we all meet up here or you wouldn't believe me otherwise!"

"I'm here and I still don't believe you!" Xiao spat. "Do you have evidence?"

"Are two people's words not enough for you? We're being serious!" He shakes his head at the adeptus, turning toward his sister in solace to cool his head. "Lumine, you've been quiet. What do you think?"

"Ah, well… you know I trust you Aether. It's just unsettling to think that Ch-Tartaglia would be back after all these centuries…"

It grants a nod from Aether, where he turns to his fellow guardian with a smirk. Xiao snarls, low and feral, igniting a battle of wits between the two. As their heated words fill the otherwise gnawing silence, a distinct brightness shines through the fairly already illuminated building. It reflects harshly off the fake purple neon lighting. The movement ceases and settles right in front of Morax, soothing and gentle. 

Yet he is the only one to notice, as Lumine's eyes are downcast while Xiao and Aether bicker like children.

How did he get here? He wonders to himself solemnly.

"Everyone." He speaks. They ignore him. He raises his voice, repeating the same word. They're too off in their own little worlds to notice. The absolute gall of these children.

Fine then. 

The floor beneath them begins to shake and it rumbles an affronted roar. Lumine is the first to gasp in surprise. She nearly stumbles and instinctively shoots out her arms, stamping her feet to the ground as a way to keep herself upright. Xiao and Aether, on the other hand, repeat the action when the floor starts to make them sway. 

Their heads immediately snap to the source of it all, who stands in the chaos with not even a hair out of place. 

"Done?" He chastises. "Do look up now."

Altogether, their eyes spot the natural beams of light. 

Lumine's eyes sparkle. "Oh! The Welkin Moon! Zhongli, why didn't you say anything?"

"I clearly did."

"No, all you did was shake the ground. You could've just shouted 'moon', you know."

"...Why, yes, I suppose I could've…"

"Well, moon, what did you want to say?"

A silhouette of a cloaked figure with a staff waves excitedly before it's whisked away, revealing the familiar profile of-

"Tartaglia. It really is him." Xiao spits out. "Oh, when I get my hands on that Fatui scum-"

Aether shoots him a pointed look, before turning back to the moon. "Okay then moon, what do we do?"

The cloaked figure points to Lumine.

"Huh? Me? Why-" Her eyes cloud shut. They flutter open just as quickly. 

"Ah." 

She nods, before beginning to form constellations from her hands, letting the moon's whispers guide her. A small pedestal is created, and she lets the stars fly out from the top in a wonderful light show. They use her subconscious memory as a base, beginning to create the form of-

"A new guardian? Ah, we could use the help." Aether concedes with an amiable nod.

"As long as it isn't that popsicle or another annoying pest, I won't complain."

They slowly take in the formation of clogs… legs… shorts… corset…? ...a… lyre?

Before them was none other than Venti, the wind spirit.

"Venti." 

The stars twinkling around the image droop in a mock faint. 

"Huh. I didn't know there could be a horrible answer. I see I was wrong."

"Wha- guys!" Lumine scolds. "C'mon! As long as he helps out, it's no big deal, right?"

"Venti? Helping? All he's ever done was prolong danger and nearly makes me lose it every. single. time. He blows the demons away from me and laughs a storm about it. He isn't trustworthy."

"Well, now he's a guardian."

[luckyshotwrites]

What I'd Do As My Enemies Wife (Widfali AU)

Chapter 1 - I'm Married To WHO?!?

Contents (Warnings): Getting caught in another universe (Shenanigans with Alexander and Lynette).

Wordcount: 2,700+

Side note: Thank you, @novorehere for being the menace that made me draw them going on a date and @aramastus for suggesting this AU idea in the first place! Love you guys! AGAIN, this is a goofy what if scenario. If you haven't read Widfali I'd recommend reading it first! That being said this is going to be much lighter and sweeter than what's been going on in the story thus far, hope you enjoy!

__________________________________________________

Lynette

I refused to remove my body from the warm, firm mattress underneath me, regardless of my slowly chilling, blanketless arms and legs. 

My alarm hasn't rung yet. 

I nuzzled further into the comforting heat. And in retaliation, the rest of me that didn't have contact with it burst with goosebumps. It disturbed my pleasant slumber. 

I sat up, grumbled, and gathered my orientation. I was on a couch, not a bed. Oh, I fell asleep on Wicks again. I hope I didn't drool on him this time. 

Groggily rubbing my eyes, I studied him. My body tensed when I saw the difference in structure. Their chest was more defined in their tight navy tank top, and their arms were adorned with muscles like cannon balls. 

Most importantly, their skin wasn't the light olive my brother had either. 

A yelp escaped my lips, and I panicked and scrambled back on the couch. Why is Alexander in my apartment? I didn't recognize the home I was in. Or am I in his...?! 

He got up and groaned. His eyes opened, and he turned to me in confusion. "Why are you here?" Much like me, he looked over the couch and room. 

The house looked neat and clean. A coffee table in front of us, as well as gaming systems and shelves of games along the undershelf below them. There was even a cat tower next to it, too. 

"Is this not your new place?" I pointed to the cat tower. That wouldn't explain why I was here. Or...resting on him.

He stood up, inspecting the space and sniffing the air. "I thought this was your place, your scents everywhere." He then sniffed at his own clothes. "Why the hell do I smell like you?" 

I'M NOT TELLING HIM THAT. "This isn't my place." I was also about to pull myself up, but out of nowhere, a figure appeared in front of me. 

"Good, you're both awake!" 

I squeaked out, and Alexander pushed himself between us. The floating girl walked backward as if the air was solid beneath her. Her navy blue hair fluttered and waved like she was underwater. 

Alexander's eyes glowed when he faced her, "who are you?"

Their voice came out soft and sounded next to my ear. "Well, my name is a little hard to pronounce in English, but let's go with Ceram." The light sapphire blue being with horns whisked around the living room as she spoke, "I'm known as an observer of sorts. We are tasked with keeping the separation between universes."

"Between universes?" I muttered. Does this mean multiple universes exist? 

"Yes and..." She cleared her throat, "Unfortunately for you, darlings, there was a recent teeny, itty, bitty issue with multiple beings from different universes switching places with their respective counterparts."

Alexander followed her movement. "Do you think we're stupid?"

She tilted her head and made an X with her fingers, "No, well, maybe sometimes, but not in this instance, no."

Alexander crossed his arms over his chest, "What do you mean sometimes?"

"You act like we've met before."

"We haven't." She held up a finger and grabbed a book that appeared out of thin air." I have read your files, though." Ceram slammed the book down on the coffee table, and she threw it open. When she did, a plethora of pages exploded from it. Alexander pushed back partially into me. 

"Your lives are recorded in these bad boys in case of events like this." 

Her smile twitched, and she shook her head. "Listen, you both are in a different universe. This one, you're both much older." She flew near Alexander and peeked back at me behind him. "Luckily, you guys haven't changed appearance-wise." 

She closed the book, and all the pages that were sticking out and going off the table were sucked back in. Alexander inspected it, and her purple-eyed gaze fell on me.

"Thus, since you both have been sent to an alternate universe, you must act like your married counterparts."

"Married...I got married?!" I gasped. I haven't even gone on a proper date! I despised the memory of the only time I did go on a date and threw up on them. How did I get married?

Alexander's eyebrows furrowed, "to who?" 

She looked at us, confused. Then pointed from Alexander to me.

Alexander's eyes met mine, and then, in unison, we both exclaimed and turned back to her. "WHAT!?"

WHY WOULD I EVER DATE XANDER!?! LET ALONE MARRY HIM! My stomach started to feel queasy thinking about it. 

"What kind of sick joke is that? Why would I ever date a human?" Alexander protested with a perturbed growl. 

Ceram threw her pink fingertips up, "Okay, okay. It's a long story in this universe." She spun the book on the table, and the cover and the title changed. "Here's the story as to how they got together-" The pages went all over the place again, and she stuffed them back inside. "How about I give you the last month of their activity? I'm sure you can piece it together from there." 

I was in too much disbelief to say anything. Why Alexander? 

He put his hand over the book, preventing her from reopening it. "Even if what you said was true, why do we have to play along? We need to go back to our universe." 

"I'm working on it." She laid her hand on Alexander's. He pulled his back. She exhaled, "This is the first time it's happened on a wide scale, so we're having trouble figuring out how to fix it. So, we aren't sure what might happen if you don't. It could be nothing—you could tell everyone you come from another universe, and it's all dandy or," she chuckled nervously and spoke quietly. "or your universes might end up collapsing because of the mass recognition of you both being in the wrong one."

"You're fucking with us."

"No," she sighed. "I wish I was." 

"We play along, or we all die?" I whimpered, how am I supposed to process this?

Ceram floated near us both, leaving the book on the table. "If it makes you feel any better, it's not only you two; there are a lot of others who were also thrown into other universes." 

Alexander narrowed his eyes, "how did this even happen?" 

Ceram hummed and didn't answer. "That's a very good question." She swayed back, her body moved by the book on the coffee table again. "You're both happily married, and this book should answer any questions about your lives here that you'll need." 

"You didn't answer my question," Alexander said. 

An infinity symbol glowed upon her forehead, "Look at the time, gotta go! I'll be back to check on you guys later!" She vanished before we could get in another word.

I studied the coffee table's edges and the book. "What just happened?" 

"I don't fucking know," Alexander grumbled, our eyes met briefly. For some reason, I broke away first out of embarrassment. 

This is too weird. "Do you think Ceram was lying?" I walked around the living room, studying the shelves and the games. A lot of the books and games were stuff I was interested in. I found myself surprised, seeing a photo of him. Is Alexander smiling? I had never seen him smile like that except when he held Sasha. You look a lot better when you smile. I kept the thought to myself. I didn't want to argue with him right now.

"She had so much fucking magic, I felt like I was suffocating." His eyes stopped their glow. "This place isn't created with mind manipulation. I'd like to think I'd know..." He pinched the bridge of his nose, "and I can't imagine someone gaining something from us like this."

I nodded in agreement. "Do you think it's a prank?"

"It's too elaborate," Alexander inspected the room too. He picked up one of the pictures with us in it and looked at me. 

"What?"

He squinted and put it back down, "Nothing."

Fine. I walked back to the coffee table, knelt beside it, and picked up the book. "Ceram said this is about a month of us- or them together. Maybe it'll have some sort of answer?"

"Yeah," Alexander said, looking more annoyed as he checked over everything. 

...

Alexander

He pinched himself when she started reading. This isn't some sort of weird ass dream. 

His nose continued to pick at her scent. He smelled it no matter where he went, and his stomach growled in response. 

Fuck me. 

His attention, involuntarily, moved to Lynette. She was hunched over and reading. He took in another deep breath. The sweet and alluring air told his body to get closer. 

He bit down on his bottom lip until it broke, and the sour, foul taste of his blood drowned out his instincts. I need to go out and get someone. He needed an excuse to escape from the house and away from the Shrimp anyway. 

Alexander got ready to tell her that and stopped. I can't leave her here alone; she can't protect herself. He doubted Ceram was after either of them for any particular reason. If they had wanted her alone, they wouldn't have brought me. He rubbed his temples and paced around. None of this makes any sense unless we trust what she said. 

To him, this was too crazy of a scenario to be a lie. 

But why the hell would I end up with a human? His eyebrows dropped when he stared. I eat them. His frustration climbed up his throat. 

"Of course, out of the billion or so humans in the world, I still end up stuck with you," Alexander said, low enough for her to hear. 

She didn't lift her eyes from the page. "You invited me."

"I did," He stood across from her and attempted to read the page she was on. "If you were like any other human, I wouldn't have."

She raised her bashful gaze, "At least one of us isn't upset you invited me. The money's great." She spoke under her breath, " I just don't understand why some of you are jerks."

Alexander scoffed, and a slightly bothered smile showed. "You're the one that gets yourself in most of those scenarios."

"I do not!"

"You're a human. You shouldn't be getting involved or close to monsters anyway."

"And technically, my family is too, in some way, shape, or form, and they're nice! So is Viola, Tila, Elliot, June, Zane's a little weird, Drake-"

Alexander laughed, "Drake?"

Her lip pushed out in a pout, "WAY nicer than you."

"What have I done to you?"

She brought her hands up and balled her fists. She swung them around a little, then slammed them down as gently as she could, "Plenty! You chase me around, threaten to eat me constantly, you also practically..." she shivered. "Drooling every time you look at me, and you always look so annoyed with me-" she pointed at his face. "Like right now!"

Alexander turned his head to the side. It's not my fault. "I'm hungry—what do you expect."

"I can't even have a normal conversation with you!" 

"That's the way my fucked up body is," Alexander pulled back, his mouth tightened, and he pressed his teeth together. "I-" A single letter left him before his mouth refused to continue. 

He changed his response as he usually did. 

"You're what I eat. I'm a fucking half Wendigo. I'm hungry all the damn time. Yeah, sure, it's better now than before, but it's still in my fucking head." Alexander replied. "If you don't like it, don't talk to me."

Lynette lowered her brows, and her eyes clung to him. He could see the sympathy he'd only ever received from his family. 

He broke their eye contact, "Tell me if the book says anything important, I'm going to keep looking around."

Alexander walked away from her, checking over every little thing he could. The kitchen, laundry room, closets, dining room, and now he was moving upstairs too. 

Everything seems normal. He walked into the massive master bedroom. His eyes squinted over it. He noticed the Wakizashi sword near the bed. He smiled. One of Drake's nerd gifts. 

He realized it only helped prove that this alternate universe self had at least some similarities to him, or if this was a setup somehow, they did their homework. 

He next moved to the dresser in front of the bed, near what he figured was the master bathroom. He searched through the top drawers; they were things he'd wear. He continued to go through each one and raised a brow conspicuously. 

"What the hell is this?" He took out what he thought was a crop top and held it in front of his face. His eyes fell to the two prominent mound-like shapes protruding outward. 

When it clicked, Alexander freaked out and dropped it immediately. He faced away, and his cheeks burned. 

His mind steadily wandered to the one accursedly embarrassing time at the Halloween party. 

SHUT UP, BRAIN. He quickly picked it up, threw it in the drawer, and slammed it shut. He exhaled hard, letting go of relief and annoyance simultaneously.

Alexander stumbled back and sat on the bed. "Why would I even be with Lynette?" He inhaled and groused curses under his breath. His body focused on her damn scent again. He pulled his navy tank top to his nose again. Why do I smell so much like her? His mouth filled with saliva. It's like she rubbed herself all over me. 

His empty abdomen groaned louder, and he clenched it. A low growl left his vocals.

He pushed off the bed. Fuck it, we're getting out of this damn house, and I'm going to eat. He'd imagine she'd complain about him eating someone, but he lost all his will to care. 

He marched out of the room and heard her shriek from below. Without a second thought, his body propelled him forward, and he ran to the balcony. He grabbed the railing, threw his body off, and landed with a giant THUD against the hardwood floor. He flicked up and assessed Lynette. No one was around her, nor did she look hurt besides her deep red-tinted face. 

"What?" He asked as her lip quivered. 

"I-I f-found a part of the book that's uh-has, well-" she stumbled over her words.

Why is she acting so flustered? What did she read between the other us... He could feel the burning redness on his face returning, too, "S-sex?" 

Lynette squeaked, "N-NOO!" She voice weakly exclaimed, "worse!"

Alexander couldn't respond. His jaw hung slightly open in disbelief. His thoughts created figments of things that could be worse and fit the same bright red mortification she wore. WHAT KIND OF FREAKS ARE THEY?! "WHAT COULD BE WORSE?!" 

She dragged the book closer to her body and refused to show him. "D-don't worry about it."

"Oh hell no, this isn't some journal situation. You're showing me." He leaned over the table to grab it.

She got up from the floor and stumbled back toward the kitchen. "No, if you read it, you'll say something about it!" 

"I don't care, Shrimp. If I'm involved, I deserve to know whatever the fuck worse is." Alexander wasn't going to leave his curiosity unanswered.  

He grabbed her wrist and brought her close enough for his other hand to steal the book. He turned his back to her and held it high so she couldn't reach it. 

"XANDER!"

He opened it to about the middle. 

"H-hey! I didn't read that far!" She complained, and he was going to start here anyway. 

"Alright! Xander. I'll tell you where just- don't say anything about it."

He skeptically peered at the short girl and dropped it on the coffee table. He didn't say yes to her terms, but she searched the book to find the exact page anyway.

"Here."

He prepared to read the worst. Nothing so far. He soon got to the end of the page, read what he believed she meant, flicked back at her and, in flabbergasted frustration, yelled, "YOU THINK LETTING ME EAT YOU WILLINGLY IS WORSE?!"

...

Thank you for reading, GOOBERS! :D

Next Chapter

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List) 1

Catch up or check for release dates down below ↓

What I’d do for a Livable Income (Synopsis/Chapter - List) 2

[artemis1214]

La Petite Sirène : Chapter Three

( A/N: Let me explain, this is a mini story of Alastor and Esme's lives together in the modern world. This is basically an ongoing fic but lives in my AU as it's part of multiple different AUs that I have for them.) 

You can read more of my one-shots and AUs here!

La Petite Sirène : Modern AU (Chapter 3)

══•●•══

The two make their way outside the building, mostly making small chit-chat as they ride the elevator and Alastor gathers his things from his office. Esme listens intently to his rambling about the neighborhood and all the things she has to experience before she goes back home, but her attention is quickly taken away when she sees a stunning car parked in the driveway.

It appears like something she would see roll out of a vintage movie, with larger wheels in the front, a sleek black exterior with golden accents, and arches spreading across the front wheels to the mid of the vehicle.

"A Zeppelin..." She whispers in awe as she quickly hurries to it, her eyes raking over it in amazement.

"So you're familiar." Alastor chuckles at her reaction, raising a brow at the fact that she knows her cars. He didn't take her for a car person, let alone someone who could spot the make and model of a vintage car with a simple glance. "She's mine, a 1938 Maybach DS8, imported from Germany."

"Mamma mia..." She whispers under her breath, "The black paint job is just like the original, cla-"

"Classic?" He finishes for her with a smirk, "Yes, I know. She wasn't cheap but I do have a thing for these things."

Just so we're clear, he wasn't loaded like she was. He worked hard for his earnings, working his way to the top slowly over time, but he was definitely comfortable.

Whereas she just had to snap her fingers and would easily own this herself.

She wouldn't though.

"How do you manage to keep this thing alive? It's nearly 90 years old!"

He leans against the side of the vehicle, softly tapping the top, "You'd be surprised. The car is old, yes, but it runs well. I have a couple of tricks up my sleeve when it comes to keeping old things like my baby alive after all~"

Esme smiles and reaches out her hand, but it freezes in mid-air, "May I?"

"Of course."

She slowly and carefully runs her fingertips along the paint of the car, marveling in its beauty, before taking the sleeve of her coat and wiping it for any marks. "Wow..."

He looks down at his reflection against the black metal, smiling proudly to himself, "I've worked hard to keep this thing in shape for years, it's taken a lot of maintenance, but I love the beauty and elegance of these old cars. They have a certain charm and finesse that you don't find in cars you can buy nowadays~"

Esme looks up and watches him as he speaks about his passion, noting how his eyes glaze over with pride. A small smile creeps on her face and she feels a strange sensation in her chest.

A warm heat travels up her neck and her mouth goes dry.

Odd.

"Well, I'm assuming you're starved. We should go, yes?" Alastor walks over to her side, and her head follows him as he does so, watching as his hand slips over the handle and opens the door,

"Of course." She looks back at her car and presses the lock on her keys to ensure it's secure before climbing inside, quickly crossing her legs and taking in a whiff of the leather interior.

The car ride is rather silent and short, and they soon arrive at the restaurant. Alastor parks his beauty and turns the engine off, getting out quickly to open Esme's door before she does. The door opens just as she lays her hand on the handle, and she looks up dazed at his manners.

"Thank you." She pulls her dress down as she sweeps her legs over and steps out. Alastor's eyes catch a glance of her dress as she does so, trailing over her smooth milky skin. He clears his throat and quickly averts his eyes, feeling disgusted for even having the audacity to look at her. He offers his hand out to her and she takes it gently without a second thought before following him into the restaurant.

The way these two were acting, you would think they knew each other for more than 24 hours.

He pushes the door open for her, stepping aside for her to enter first, and as she does so he places his other hand on her back to guide her through. This was very unusual for Esme, but she assumed this was part of that 'southern charm' she always heard so much about.

The host smiles at the two and they're led to a small secluded table in the back. It's a beautiful restaurant with dim lighting and a small jazz band playing calmly in the back, something very strange for a colleague to bring a guest.

Esme smiles at the flowers on the table and brings her hand out to pull out her chair, but Alastor quickly slides before her and takes it for her, pulling it out for her to sit. "I got it, darling, let me."

Her cheeks flush softly as she sits down and he pushes her in, which doesn't take much force as she's significantly smaller than he is. As soon as he's seated, Esme picks up the menu to inspect the options. Alastor glances up at her face, taking a moment to skim over her features as she reads.

She is a vision.

Especially under this lighting.

He lets out a small exhale that he hadn't noticed he was holding since they walked in. He rests his forearms on the edge of the table and smiles as his eyes fixed on hers. "So, what do you like about here?" She asks, still looking at the menu.

"They have excellent steak here, as well as a wonderful selection of wines. I always find myself coming back to this place, simply because of their assortments."

"Hm...this is a nice spot, but seems like someplace you need company to enjoy."

"I make do, the jazz players are good company."

She parts from his eyes and looks back down at the menu, "I like steak, rare actually."

"Very nice, and how about I order us a nice bottle of wine to share? You like red?" She nods and he smiles, taking a moment to flag down a waiter. Esme gets a notification on her Apple Watch and looks down to read it as Alastor orders.

"Could I get a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon for me and my dear companion?"

"Of course, sir, and what will you be having for the main course?"

"We'll both have the filet mignon, cooked rare, please."

Esme's face picks up at the mention of her food, "Can I have a side salad with that, please?" She asks the waiter, "Balsamic vinegar and oil would be fine."

"Of course, anything else?"

Alastor shakes his head, returning his focus on the waiter once more, "No, that's all for now." Esme's face twists at his words and she shakes her head with a small huff as the waiter goes to prepare their meals.

"Wait!"

The waiter pauses mid-step as he starts to walk off. He turns back to look at her, "Yes, miss?"

She looks back at Alastor, "You need a side with your steak." She says firmly with a raised eyebrow. Alastor's eyes widen as she speaks, taken back in surprise by her boldness. Her tone left little for discussion, and he never met a woman so direct. Let alone anyone so direct to him.

"I...pa-pardon?"

She turns her face back to the waiter, "A side of mashed potatoes would be fine, gravy on the side for taste." The waiter nods and finishes writing down the other order on his notepad.

"Very well miss, it'll be out shortly."

Alastor just stares at her and blinks in confusion as his thoughts race.

But, that's my job....she...I....

HUH?

She smiles and casually looks back down at her Apple Watch and begins to flip through her notifications, taking out her phone and going through her numerous messages coming in, her face twisting in focus.

I.....

What?

He uses the water at the table to soothe the frog in his throat before speaking, "I wasn't expecting you to be so...assertive. I don't think anyone has demanded I do anything."

"What else are you gonna eat? You'll be hungry later..." She says as if it's the most obvious thing, scrolling on her watch, biting her lip.

"Is something wrong, dear?"

"Our interview went live."

He raises an eyebrow, a small moment of silence passing through the table, "And...is that...a bad thing?"

She shakes her head, "People are...um...they heard me with my little smartass comment to you..." She says embarrassedly, "They're talking."

"Saying?"

She sighs and begins to read the comments, "Quote, 'We didn't ask for a whore to be on the show'...ahem, another said, 'Did she not know she was on live, wow' and then there's a shocked emoji."

His jaw clicks as he listens, "Is that all?"

She blushes as she reads another, "Well....quote, 'He sounds hot, Es, snatch that.' end quote."

He covers his mouth and lets out a little chuckle, the thought of both of their audiences already imagining them together when they barely know one another is amusing to him, "What an audience~"

"Here, let's freak them out." She smirks, opening Instagram stories and picking up her wine glass, "Don't worry, I know you don't show your face, just hold yours behind mine." She raises her hand and he follows suit.

She snaps a picture of their hands and turns her phone for him to see, "Heh, your hand is huge compared to mine." She puts some emojis on it and adds background music, "See, a faceless pic of a mysterious man on my story, watch and learn." She uploads it.

He takes the phone from her, leaning back and holding it like a grandfather trying to send a text message without his spectacles, as he taps through her stories. Most of them are snapshots of her throughout her day.

Her with her morning coffee and her television set, her 'ootd' (whatever that means), and this mysterious man accompanying her for drinks.

He slides it back to her on the table, "Clever girl~"

"Mmhmm" She sips her wine. The moment the phone hits the table, it lights up and starts buzzing, vibrating across the wood. She clearly has a lot of fans, all currently going nuts over her little picture. She giggles and silences her phone.

He hums in amusement as he drinks from his own glass.

The waiter comes over to check on the two, bringing them their steaks and sides, "Here you go, rare just as requested, is there anything else I could get for you two?"

"No, that's okay. Thanks, though." Esme smiles at him, still holding the glass close to her lips. When he turns, she closes her eyes and brings her lips to it once more, taking a deeper sip.

The way they part around the glass and how she slowly removes it from her lips once she's finished makes Alastor's head go fuzzy. She was alluring in almost everything she did, from the smallest details, it was extraordinary.

If only he could replace that glass with his own li- WAIT HOLD ON NONONONONO

I've only met this woman this morning, what kind of gentleman am I?

This has never happened before.

She is completely unaware of his thoughts and looks around the restaurant taking in the scenery before her eyes catch him desperately pouring more wine in his glass and drinking rapidly, "Umm.....you good?"

His heart is racing and now he feels put on the spot, "Ah...yes..I'm fine, darling, just fine, never better ha..."

"Ooooookayyy~" She shrugs, looking down at her steak, "Oh, it really is bloody." She cuts into the meat with her steak knife and brings a small piece to her mouth, sucking the juice before popping it in entirely. It's potent and rich in taste, and cooked perfectly, edible but juicy enough where she can practically taste the iron.

Just how she likes it.

She chews contently.

A small shiver crawls up his spine as his mind imagines her lips and mouth on him, how beautiful she is, and how soft she must feel. He swallows his food thickly but keeps his eyes on her.

God, she looks beautiful under this lighting.

Now that he can see her, she has the faintest freckles dusting her cheeks, her eyelashes are long (and he can tell they're real) and her hair is in tip-top shape, not one strand out of place.

He wondered how it would feel to run his hands through those curls.

To reach her scalp and tighten his grip until he p-

BZZ-BZZ-BZZ!

He looks down at her phone, seeing it light up with an older man's photo and the name 'Papa' across the screen. Her eyes widen and she perks up, sliding the screen and bringing it to her ear.

"Ciao, pa, come stai?" She raises a hand to Alastor to excuse herself and she stands up, walking away. He can hear her voice carry through the restaurant as she exits, "Sto bene, mangiando cena." (("Hi, dad, how are you? I'm good, eating dinner."))

He's left at the table, staring at his food as she leaves.

What the hell is going on?

══•●•══

🖤Words: 2220🖤

~ Artemis🦌💗

[midnightsequia]

Would people be interested in a zombie apocalypse au of a Jeff the killer x reader fanfic lmao I've been slowly writing one like here and there in my notes app so I have random scenes that are not connected at all lol here's a little sneak below the cut!

Basically a slow burn, xreader no mention of yn/__ I hate the underscores lmao and probably strangers to friends to lovers? Idk we will see ill probably post it all anyways

This is not edited!

This is not revised!

A true WIP!

"You are staying." Jeff poked your chest hard causing you to stumble back.

"In what world? There are dozens of dead in there and you expect me to stay outside?" Emphasizing 'outside' you swatted his hand away and pulled your fingers into fists by your side. In your eyes you had gotten better with your pistol and could be a great helpful asset to Jeff while scavenging.

"You're a liability and would get me killed." In his eyes you are a beginner. Someone who still shakes while holding a gun, afraid to pull the trigger in fear of blowing his head off. Your eyes flared with rage. Trying to calm yourself down from a loud outburst from frustration not wanting to attract unwanted attention. The two of you are getting too loud. "Just stay here for Christ's sake." His shoulders slacked, no longer holding annoyance and anger but instead his maniacal eyes covered themselves in guilt and sadness. He was looking towards your worn shoes. Pleading you wouldn't be stupid enough to follow him.

"Fine. If I dont hear from you in fifteen minutes, I will come in myself and get you." Crossing your arms you stood straight now almost the same height as him.

"No you will not."

"Yes. I will. I'm compromising with you." Jeff grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath. Why doesn't he see that you do care about his well being?

"Fine," He spat "I'll go in, clear the area, like I usually do, and you come in and help gather everything. Hunter, gather style." When mentioning "hunter" He pointed to himself, and gatherer to you. Jeff pulled his knife out, the knife had aged terribly, causing your worry to only grow. He hasn't had the proper tools to efficiently sharpen the blade. The rock he had been using was causing more damage than sharpening the blade and there were a few chips in it as well. Staring at the knife with your worry written all over your face Jeff rolled his eyes and gleamed it in the sun trying to blind you. "It's gonna be fine. This is me we are talking about. Ill come back through this door." He gave a large smirk and left into the large department store. You went across the car riddled street and sat one that had crashed into a tree.

Jeff quietly made his way into the store. You had told him that this store would have clothes and food most definitely since it looked clean. He had wanted more than anything else in the world now something other than poorly cooked squirrel or chipmunk. He probably wouldn't get it since it's been months since the world ended but the canned food should be like new. The sliding door was unlocked and opened with a soft ding.

"Open 24/7" Jeff scoffed to himself, "now more than ever." He thought. He had nearly jumped in delight when he saw that the store was almost untouched. This was located on the outskirts of a small town, on a road down to the coast on the way here they had only passed a few empty, well now empty, homes and they had store brand food in their trash. This store, giving you two a lead on where to possibly find supplies.

Blood was splattered across the ground and there was a funk in the air making Jeff hold back a gag. He was glad you didn't come in with him, "Oh it smells atrocious in here." He had heard your voice in his head complaining, then holding back the little bile you had left. You couldn't handle the smell of more than two zombies at a time, he couldn't begin to imagine your laughable reaction to this.

Off in the distance of the store there was a rattle of some carts

[omaano]

hi!!!! this is so entirely random but: i ADORE your hades x star wars au, it gives me so much!!! seeing two of my absolute favourite fandoms combined in your gorgeous art style (and i know you're trying to replicate the hades style but some of your own peeks through and it is WONDERFUL; also i applaud you for taking on that mammoth challenge omg!!) gives me ALL the feels in the best way!!!!

i think i saw you mention somewhere that while you'd love to write more dialogue/story/interactions, it's not really your thing so you don't do it that often? if i'm remembering wrong please feel free to ignore me but: I AM A WRITER. I ADORE HADES AND STAR WARS AND THIS AU SO MUCH. I WOULD LOVE TO OFFER MY SERVICES IF YOU EVER HAVE NEED/WANT OF THEM!! (if not literally No Pressure but i love this au so much and would jump at the chance to help!!!)

ANYWAY sorry for the really long ask, know that i love your art and this au with all of my heart, and i hope you have a wonderful day!! :D

Hello!

Thank you so much!! 💕💕 I’ve re-read this message trying to figure out what and how I want to answer to it so many times in the past couple of hours, but I still don’t know, I’m just so touched! I’m so very happy that you like my Hades AU project! (And yeah, good eye, I have been slacking a bit in the style replicating department ^^; at this point I’m just going by what I’d observed when I started with Boba and Din for drawing the characters, and now I just go with what I could make work with my style… I’m glad you like it either way! 🥰)

You saw that right too, haha, that was in another post from yesterday; I really didn’t go at this project with a coherent story, or writing in mind. I’m just not very good at that kind of thing anymore (if I’ve ever been lol), and I truly admire any writer who gathers up the courage each day to put out their stories and thoughts every day for us! Revealing that shit to the faceless masses is hard omg 😳 So I honestly could use all the help I can get (I’m already thinking and pulling a blank at what I will do with Echo and Fives… and all the Jedi in the god roles OTL they were the latest addition and it kinda shows, I have very little idea what to do with them 😅) thank you very much for the offer in advance! I might take full advantage of it (as long as the offer stands) ❤️

But in the meantime if you ever feel like you’d want to play around with or in the sandbox of this AU please feel free to do so and let me know!! Or just your thoughts, brain worms, anything! I’d be very happy to talk with people about this or what are all of your takes on this silly AU of mine ^^ (no pressure or anything, I’m just excited to possibly talk about something that is very dear to me, the art of which I really love to share. Even if we are slowly reaching the part in my notes that’s mostly made up by question marks and “need to look some stuff up for this” XD. Also I don’t think I’ve ever read a hades fic in my life, so I have no idea how that or the gameplay translates between various mediums XD)

I hope you have a wonderful day as well ❤️

[caffeine-n-andreneline]

SnV Qin Shi Huang || Ying Zheng x Fem!Reader

Warnings: First fic lol, historical inaccuracies, typical cannon violence, a kid with trauma and a wannabe therapist, Soulmate AU, slowburn(?), Warring States period-ish, JJK cross over kinda-ish, baby qin needs a hug.

The notes of the koto reverberated throughout the Michizane household. The people laughed and drank sake to their heart's content, whilst applauding to the child in the middle of the room, playing the said instrument with finesse.

Accompanied with her voice, she sang much like a true virtuoso. It did not take long for her performance to end, the cheers dying down as the adults went on to mind their own business.

The girl with the (H/c) hair rose from her previous position and bowed down for gratitude. When she exited, two servants followed suit, storing away the heavy hunk of wood.

Now, she rests by the secluded part of their home, in an open porch, which showcases the serene Zen Garden that the Michizane managed whilst the gathering continued with their faint chatters in the background. Red cherry blossoms flutter with grace as they are coveted by the grassy grounds.

She opens the palm which bears her soulmate's first words upward to the midnight sky.

A single gray petal is what she sees.

Never had she seen the shade of red. That questionable goop of gray upon her lips as well as the women back inside the gathering? Or the fine silks and fabrics all over their house?

Even her own blood. Gray and so dark you could mistake it as black like ink. In all honesty? It's slowly–making her insane.

"Sunshine, it's chilly here. I suppose we should get you back inside." From behind her, a deep voice of a man startled her tiny heart, yet she still managed to put on a neutral face.

"You make such awful callings, father."

A man of tall stature came to her view. Her father, Michizane Sugawara, the patriarch of the household she resides in. A scholar once of common blood, he rose to his position today for his great contributions and efforts, became a vassal of a shogun–a daimyo which also holds the title of this state's diplomat.

"Well then, hm. Moonlight, how about we head back inside? I suppose there's still some daifuku left if I'm not mistaken." He continued, scooting beside her daughter.

The patriarch had his hair painted in snow, his eyes as blue as ice. Almost a carbon copy, aside her hair, to the pensive girl on his side.

"That's the same thing." The daughter bluntly replied.

"I suppose you're right."

Then there was a short pause.

"But you, you're not alright at all." Glancing to her daughter, he resumed.

"You can always tell me what ails you, you know?"

He waited for a response. A few moments have passed by, but still none. It seems the girl is in deep thoughts. Until the silence was broken with her declaration.

"I want to see red. It drives me mad. It should be a color that I see regularly everyday, yet it's replaced by this boring monotone color I see instead."

She ranted. Michizane knew this feeling all too well. There he decided bringing her along not only could give her experience, but also give her the opportunity to find what she seeks.

"Perchance you could see it soon." He gave her a reassuring smile.

"How do you know?" She asks, with her voice laced in doubt.

"My intuition tells me so. Did you know I can't see the colour of the rays of the sun when I have yet to meet your mother?"

"....must've been so bright."

"Yes, indeed. Your other half, surely they gaze upon the vast horizon of the heavens, and wonder when they could see the fleeting blues of the skies or the deep azure of the seas. When they could finally see those ocean eyes of yours."

This made the girl think even more deeply. Realizing it's not only she who longs for such. There could be even thousands if not millions of those who're blind to a certain colour.

The cold touch of her father's calloused hands made contact with her small and nimble ones. Slowly finding its way to her wrist, where her soulmate's first words are imprinted to her skin.

"I've taught you few about the dialect, haven't I, my moonlight?"

Slowly, he traces the calligraphy above her skin. She could only watch her father draw on her wrist and answer his question.

Back when she was younger, she found herself awestruck with his father's handiwork. She loved the crisp sound of paper being folded, the way his father used a brush to write the letters she could barely understand with elegance and precision.

One night, before going to sleep, his father had gifted her something. A box of brushes, along with a small jar of ink–and parchment of papers with drawn guides with the use of charcoal. Starting from there, her education on the arts of calligraphy and linguistics began.

And today, at such a young age–she's already considered to be a polyglot. A scholar ready to expand her knowledge.

".....yes? The archaic dialect used in the state of Qin nearby Zhao dynasty yonder?" The girl already knew the answer to this. It wouldn't take for an alchemist to figure it all out.

"Exactly. I suppose you already know what that means."

"My fated one is of foreign lands." Michizane saw the disappointment in her daughter's face. It appears that she can't hide what she feels well.

In her mind, she could only think of how only in her next life she could see red.

"And by the next full moon, we'll embark our way there."

Her eyebrows furrowed in confusion, processing the words her father had just said. Then when she came to an understanding, she just realized her father had just said that.

"Well, off we go now, my sweet. Unless we are to freeze to our deaths then we cannot see your soulmate!"

In a split second, the diplomat had already thrown and secured her daughter in his arms, giving her no time to retaliate as he marched his way back inside their warm home.

"Wait! Now hang on for just a second da–"

"Nuh uh, I already feel your brother's glutton radiating beyond these doors. We wouldn't want your daifukus to end up in his greedy belly, would we?"

Sugawara jests.

Notes: This fic will have Jujutsu Kaisen elements, hence the crossovers in the warnings. I'll be describing the reader as the diplomat's daughter and refrain on using "Y/n". One particular physical feature that I'll be explicitly describing the reader has is that they possess blue eyes. And the rest is up to your imagination. Fun fact! Michizane No Sugawara or in this case, the readers' father is Gojo Satoru's ancestor from jujutsu Kaisen.