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sunnylands-world · 2 years

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Draco Malfoy's masterlist

Welcome to my Draco Masterlist, readers, and I hope you like my fics! Header, banners, and dividers are all by me

Main masterlist

PART 2 HERE

REQUEST ARE ALWAYS OPEN 💚

You are responsible for your reading choices, please don't report my account or my work. If you are not aware of what smut content is it is usually content meant for 18+ readers, it is up to you what you read, I am not your parents!!

Do NOT write offense things in my comments or I will block you from this page and any account I find out is yours

A lot of my work is old so my writing did improve. it's organized from oldest to newest so that's a warning! if it's cringy sorry [I May Update Them]

After - FLUFF: You and draco make plans for what happens after...

It's okay - FLUFF: When Draco goes missing you run to find him and learn some other things about your best friend...

lies to your deceiving eyes - FLUFF : Draco didn't care much for Hogwarts or the people there that is until he runs into you...

Sick kisses - SMUT: being a deathly eater brings burdens and pain it's lucky you have each other to mend one another's broken pieces...

Choose - ANGST: You and draco are now married what could go wrong? Maybe the past could ruin the future...

muggle things - FLUFF: You and draco go on a trip to the muggle world...

Platinum blondes are superr long - SMUT : When you and pansy make a small joke someone takes it to heart and has to correct your mistake...

Someone bring him back - ANGST: Draco made a lot of mistakes so he tries to fix them but hurts you in the process..

My best friend - FLUFF: So many things happen in your friendship but your to oblivious to see the real big change...

PRETTY LITTLE SINNER - SMUT:

your is put in the room with draco who you secretly like and when you're with the person you like you do crazy things. What if he catches you though...

Punishment - SMUT:

Draco gave you an order and when you don't do what he says, well read and find out...

Feel better - SMUT:

Your insecure about your thighs but Draco knows how to make it better...

Kisses for a sick princess - FLUFF:

y/n on her period and what kinda boyfriend would Draco be if he didn't take care of you...

The taller one - FLUFF:

Having a tall boyfriend is great but your boyfriend is a tease and is very possessive when it comes to you even with your friends...

Draco inspired MOODBOARD

Draco MOODBOARD WITH TEXT

Trust me if not everyone else - FLUFF/ANGST:

You go to the yule ball with your best friend but maybe by the end your not friends...

Draco BOOK COVER

For you - ANGST/FLUFF:

So many things are unspoken between you and your foster brother...

For your actions - ANGST:

Draco couldn't complete his task and someone has to pay the price...

Embody - SMUT:

Your village has some rather strange beliefs...

Run away mommy - ANGST TO FLUFF:

When you find out your pregnant you make a run for it afraid of what Draco might say...

Draco SHORT TEXT 1

monster - ANGST:

Draco's not the same and when you got to his room you find out why...

Draco PHOTOSHOPS I MADE

If only you knew - FLUFF/ANGST:

Your sitting on the side watching your best friend love someone else. Maybe he doesn't really love HER...

And after - SMUT:

Draco's parents talk about you and him having kids and it catches Draco's attention...

His - ANGST:

Your taken by Voldemort and draco saves you Making you promise one thing...

I'm here for you sugar - FLUFF/ANGST:

Your Diabetic and make a small dangerous mistake when taking your injections...

Your language - FLUFF:

Your parents are in town and speak a different language so what is Draco gonna do...

Draco TEXT MESSAGE

what my girl wants, my girl gets - SMUT:

Your rather needy when it comes to Draco and who is he to deny you...

Draco TEXT 2

Fuck you - SMUT:

You despise Draco Malfoy and he doesn't like that...

If you were mine - FLUFF:

Draco's life is about to change forever but has to tell you how he feels before it does...

Draco's GIRL COLLAGE

Vampire DRACO COLLAGE

Nightmare - ANGST:

Draco has a really hard time after the wars but you'll always be there for him no matter what happens...

Overflow into my soul and stabs to a wound with no sewing close - FLUFF/ANGST:

It's all a big mess when it comes to you and draco Malfoy. One of you is in love then the roles switch. In the end someone will confess...

"Give yourself to me darling" he whispered in her ear - VAMPIRE SMUT:

Your life's simple you've met the man of your dreams and everything's perfect but everyone's got a secret or a flaw. what's his...

Vampire - SMUT:

Your with a vampire and you a human so things are a bit intense for you because of his lack of control when he's deep inside you...

RAIN BRINGS MORE THAN WET CLOTHES - FLUFF:

it's a girl's dream to dance in the rain but it's a plus if you do it with someone you love...

The second chance - DRACO BOOK

Little Butterfly in the dark - ANGST:

Draco doesn't know what love feels like So where does that leave you...

Hear me - ANGST/FLUFF:

you have a bad habit of tearing yourself down and Draco won't stand for that

What DATING DRACO WOULD BE LIKE

What it's like DATING DEATH EATER DRACO

Vampire charms - Vampire/death eater - SMUT:

the priest little girl is cursed by the walking devil. or is she?...

Yellow - FLUFF:

He wasn't really the type to fall in love But maybe he hasn't met that special girl in yellow...

Purple berry - FLUFF:

You have a crush on your tutor but what are the odds he feels the same..

My crazy death eater - ANGST:

Draco may not have lost just his friends, he may have lost his mind as well...

Someone forbidden - STEP DAD SMUT:

Your step dad is supposed to be off limits but who says either of you follow rules...

Royals - SMUT:

Draco Malfoy is a dick and your a perfect little princess in his eyes But your also not going to back down from a challenge...

Hitting you with snow hearts - FLUFF:

Your not sure how to tell Draco you love him but you love something else maybe that could help...

Wildest dreams - FLUFF/ANGST/KINDA SMUT:

Falling in love slowly is like a Taylor swift song...

Daddy's needy baby - SMUT:

Draco's poor little baby is experiencing a change luckily her daddy is very skilled at helping with it...

Draco TEXT

Brat's punishment - SMUT:

You got a phone for your sixteen birthday and a few years later you use the device for not so appropriate purposes and well your caught...

Deep in your skin - SMUT:

Something about digging your nails in Draco's back while he fucks you just feels right...

Friends to lovers strangers - FLUFF/ANGST:

Draco just wished he would have looked a little closer...

Draco X BLACK READER COLLEGE

New series INFO AND COLLEGE

Something in between - SMUT:

Draco comes back from quidditch and has to have himself buried between your thighs...

Without you - SMUT:

Slytherin parties are known for many things: hookups, drama, and drunk teens but you and your ex bring one more thing...

Happy birthday daddy! - SMUT:

your step dad's birthday comes and of course you come home to celebrate, bringing him cute gifts but he has a better present in mind...

Relax - SMUT:

being a mom is great if you don't count the feeding and other things but Draco is amazing at making you comfortable when you do finally get the chance...

You little brat - SMUT:

your way of coping with your mother's death is not okay with your step father. I mean why sleep with little boys when you have your step dad who is sexy as hell...

The sweetest lies - ANGST:

Draco disappears and pansy comes bringing news about the boy who said he loved you...

The jealous to your possessiveness - SMUT:

you get jealous after a small party and accidentally trigger your possessive husband because of your jealousy and Draco fixes both those problems...

Extremely dangerous - ANGST TO FLUFF:

Draco's a man with a secrets and A few misunderstandings...

Greedy girl - SMUT:

Draco isn't very fond of his girlfriend being a needy slut In front of others and giving them the wrong idea so he's gotta let them know you're only like this for him...

Alpha Draco MOODBOARD

Hero - FLUFF TO SMUT:

your boyfriend stands you up on your eighteenth birthday and your stepdad's there to fill the little hole left in your heart and other things as well…

Draco PHOTOSHOPS WITH STORIES

The famous Bloodline SMUT:

you and the prince are not on the best terms until the truth comes out and he cums in you…

SOFT BLUE ANGST AND FLUFF:

you're attracted to someone you've never seen in human form and your attraction to the said person may cost you everything and it's a risk you're willing to take…

Wrong answer SMUT:

you're gonna fail potions but your professor has an offer to help you pass…

Drive SMUT:

your boyfriend doesn't want to talk about his day, he'd rather show you how shitty it's been…

Came on a train SMUT:

Draco can't control himself around anyone or anywhere when it comes to you...

Okay, today I will be criticizing my first smut EVER! [Draco]

SERIES ↓

STAY QUIET - PART 1 SMUT:

It's Christmas and Draco's favorite present of all lies in his bed but that doesn't mean he'll let you scream...

STAY QUIET PART 2 - SMUT:

You couldn't stay quiet so you'll have to take the punishment for it...

He thinks I'm pretty - FLUFF PART 1:

Your boyfriend's an asshole but you'll always have your best friend...

You should think she's pretty - FLUFF PT.2:

Draco's sees you begin treated bad by your boyfriend and has something to say about it...

Beat me up and break me down - ANGST PART 1:

Something changes about you over the summer...

Sleeping angel - ANGST PART 2: the curse you were put under doesn't just effect Draco in one way in the end...

Everything but not - part 1 *cancelled because it didn't get enough support*

Professor Malfoy series:

It's a brand new year at Hogwarts. You and other children are just beginning their 7th year but you never planned to fall in love with your professor who is also your boyfriend's dad and parents best friend…

Professor Malfoy PART 1

Professor Malfoy PART 2

Professor Malfoy PART 3

Professor Malfoy PART 4

Professor Malfoy PART 5

Part 6 is located in part 2 of the masterlist

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phoenix-and-found-family · 7 months

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Hello people who found this craziness entertaining!

I made this blog because I was bored and wanted a place to lore dump about my ocs without bothering the few normal people that come across my main blog

‼️DISCLAIMER: THE ART IN THE HEADER ISN'T MINE! I got it from this picrew: https://picrew.me/en/image_maker/1473879‼️

You can ask my characters anything you want, just be aware I won't answer asks I'm not comfortable answering/are about upcoming lore that I don't want to spoil before I write it

Just state who the question is for, and if you don't I'll assume the question is for me and answer accordingly

Basic blog things:

Sorry Phoenix x Juniper shippers, my blog doesn't do that because I personally don't see it. But I support if you ship them and love to see stuff like that! I do ship Prism x Reginald though, and Prism x Fabby...

Basically I ship her with everyone except Phoenix and maybe John.

Also, I have no drawing skills at all, so please don't expect me to draw them doing anything 😭 (edit: I have a couple drawing skills now and plan to use all of them for this >:3)

My Phoenix!!!

Name: [REDACTED]

Codename: Agent Phoenix

Age: 22

Pronouns: They/Them

Height: 5'2" No fuck that I'm totally 6'3" and have large muscles

Joined the agency at: 18

Favorite color(s): Red and Black

Disability(s): Agent Phoenix is missing their right leg from a horrible car crash that claimed the lives of their parents at 14, forcing them to live on the streets for two years until they eventually got scouted by the agency. Miraculously, even though they've been in far worse danger and experienced far worse pain, they have not sustained any other lasting injuries.

Personality: Imagine if the Norse god Loki and a can of Monster Energy drink had a child who likes to commit arson as a hobby.

Random facts: Phoenix can read, write, and speak fluent English, Spanish, and Japanese because their parents moved around all the time and barely stayed in one place for more than a month. They're also pretty good at Mandarin Chinese, Portuguese, and Galic, but have absolutely no understanding of Italian.

They can do some basic martial arts, but they mainly excel at accidental stealth and all-out brawl style fights, for they are very fast and good at analyzing how exactly to take an enemy out.

They are diagnosed with autism and auditory schizophrenia, although they believe that they may also have ADHD because of how much stimulation they need to get their job done.

Lore posts

Here are the links (Oldest to Youngest by when I posted them) to posts that give you more lore about my versions of these characters

The Home Argument (Handler's perspective)

The Home Argument (Phoenix's perspective)

The Agency can Wait

Random Headcannons (self h@rm mention)

What became of Solaris (Radio transmission #1)

The Call

A Phoenix burns hottest when it's Born Again (Part 1)

The Most Perfect Name

I know I'm pathetic (angst)

Incident report 067 (more angst)

Can't cage a Phoenix arc

Brothers of the Stars (long ass RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 )

Who's Trevor? (slightly angsty)

The most painful way to say goodbye (even longer RP chain with @the-one-and-only-043 and @wyvchard (sorry for the tags))

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 1)

Agency file: The Basilisk & Dr. Vadas

The Victim of a Basilisk (Part 2)

Dream Cast ( @wyvchard version)

Dream Cast ( @the-one-and-only-043 version)

Screen Cast (right after the other two, some Agent Circuit lore)

OC's

Agent Ombre (profile)

Agent Circuit Board (image)

Rants (that may or may not contain lore)

Reginald Crane is a professional

John Juniper is known for his lies

A Reversal of Roles (ieytd au)

Random lore (doesn't really have a name)

Operation: Deluge (ieytd au)

How do you kill a Phoenix? (announcement post)

Random things you should probably know beforehand

Prologue: The Death of a Phoenix (This takes you directly to the Ao3 chapter, heads up)

Unconditional Love (Roxanix fic thingy, full of angst)

Part one (Prism's Perspective)

Part one (Phoenix's Perspective)

Part two (Reginald's Perspective)

Part two (Phoenix's Perspective)

A trip to the past (fic idea by @kayssweetdreams , thank you!)

Part one

Random ask things

Phoenix's text will be red

Reginald's text will be orange

Juniper's text will be green

Prism's text will be blue

Fabricator's text will be purple

We've also got Hivemind and his text is pink

(this does not apply to lore posts(usually(sometimes I add this system in because it's hard to tell who's talking)))

Thanks for reading! That's all for now :3

#blog intro #agent phoenix #ieytd #ieytd askblog #ieytask

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parkermunson · 2 years

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Eddie the Undead

Summary: Eddie lies lifeless in your arms while you grapple with his recent death. While the gang attempts to comfort you, Eddie comes back. He's scared, terrified even, and only you bring him out of it. But when you're trying to sooth him, you realize Eddie's changed in the short time he was gone. Reader has no gender. [1.1k]

TW: Character death, shock, fear, Grief, vamp!Eddie

A/N: Originally wanted to write something totally different but my brain had other plans. I love vamp!Eddie, but I never read something that shows him in fear, and I definitely think anyone would be terrified if they 'woke up' after thinking they died, surrounded by demobats. Also, grief is really hard to write, but I'm hoping the general feel came across here. Let me know your thoughts! Might add more to this eventually. Header and dividers made by me :)

Eddie's body was lifeless against your lap. Dustin sat next to you with tears pooling down his cheeks, yet you couldn't find it in yourself to comfort him. You couldn't feel anything– the warm tears on your face continued to fall but it was almost as if you couldn't remember why. The haze fogging your brain only grew with each sob from Dustin. You stared blankly ahead, past the bodies of demobats surrounding you, into the dark distance of trees. The blood in your veins almost felt like it stopped when Eddie's heart did.

Muted yelling could be heard somewhere. Perhaps the rest of the group, or maybe more monsters. It didn't matter anymore. The ringing silence in your ears mixed with the dull pain in your chest from heartbreak were the only things your were aware of. Aside from the weight on your legs, unmoving.

Your friends appeared in your vision, each handling the situation in their own manner– Robin blabbering out diseases caused by bats and to check for wounds, Steve keeping a distance but asking for explanations and answers to questions you weren't hearing, and Nancy doing her best to move you and Dustin away from the body. His body. With every slight shove from Nancy, your arms gripped tighter around Eddie's shoulders. No words had to be spoken for the point to get across– you weren't moving.

In all this time, you never looked down. Couldn't bear to see your boyfriend lying there. It wasn't until Robin kneeled beside you and laid a hand on your shoulder, causing the floodgates to break open. You were only mildly aware you were screaming. Your chest felt as though someone had punched it open, and your throat closed, silencing your screaming. Tears blocked your vision while you fought for air, just to release what little you caught with a heavy sob. No feeling would ever compare to how badly this hurt, both mentally and physically.

You grabbed at Eddie's jacket, pulling him further into your lap. You tried clawing at his body, getting him closer, only to be disappointed that you couldn't absorb his body into your's. The friends surrounding you watched wordlessly, not knowing how to help. It wasn't the safest place to be– in the Upside Down, out in the open, surrounded by monsters. Nonetheless, it was the only place you wanted to be, by Eddie.

You grabbed his head and held it close to you. He was still warm, with wet eyes, wet blood. The more you held him, the heavier he felt in your arms. The coldness of the Upside Down was seeping into his body by the second, gnawing away at the last bits of life he possessed. His glowing skin grew pale beneath you and the blood in his cheeks receded. Dustin crawled up beside you and closed Eddie's eyes, out of respect or trauma, you weren't sure. Your arms were screaming under Eddie's weight but you couldn't seem to move. Not that you would have anyway.

The exhaustion in your arms brought an end to your crying. The group around you was conversing, but your ears continued to mute them. Grief isn't a multitasker. You stared at Eddie's face, taking in his minor imperfections. After all, this may be the last time you ever see them. A funeral was most likely out of the question with Hawkins' opinion toward him. Your hand brushed a stray hair out of his face, the shakiness in your movement noticed by everyone but you. Your other hand held underneath his head, cradling him close, while his torso's weight rested in your arm.

His lips were beginning to fade to a bluish hue, unnerving you. Bodies don't do this. You're no doctor (mortician?) but at least you know it takes hours for the blood to settle. It had maybe been half an hour? An hour at most? Time was forgotten, but not too much of a foreign concept to realize how wrong this was. You felt his neck and found it freezing, almost the same temperature as the soil beneath you. Every inch of your body was telling you to push him away, that this wasn't Eddie anymore. But it still had Eddie's face, his clothes, his scent.

You looked up at your friends. Their crunched brows aimed at you, Eddie's oddly quick decomposition going unnoticed by them. When you opened your mouth to speak, a deep inhale came from beneath you. The weight lifted off your arm and a flurry of coughing followed, but not from you. Eddie was hunched over, gasping for air. His hair surrounding his face. It was dead silent between all of you except for Eddie's lungs desperately searching for air.

Your mouth hung open as you watched in shock at the once-dead body of Eddie Munson finding his grip on oxygen. He was breathing heavily, still hunched over. Your hand slowly reached for his shoulder, lightly touching it before your brain could think of a reason to run. He turned quickly, his eyes wide. It was fear, you realized. He fell back and his hand grazed the body of a demobat. He pulled away quickly, not realizing the monster was dead. No one moved while Eddie found his bearings. He found an open space, a small distance from the group, and curled his knees up to rest his head against them, while his arms wrapped around his legs. This was no creature– this was Eddie, a terrified Eddie completely unaware of the events that just took place.

–

It took a long time for Eddie to uncurl his body, but your voice made him feel safe. The moment he dropped his legs, his arms wrapped around your waist, tightly. It almost hurt how strong he was gripping you. With one hand petting his hair, and the other rubbing his back, he slowly loosened his arms around you. You looked over your shoulder to your friends and gave them an unknowing look. You were as confused as they were. Nothing about this was normal.

You continued rubbing your hand across his back when you noticed he was still cold against you. You put your hand underneath his chin and raised it to meet his eyes. Two glowing red orbs greeted you in place of his usual chocolate irises. For a moment, your heart completely stopped and a scream almost escaped. But Eddie's eyes were wet, those red buttons were partly covered with a layer of tears that sunk your heart.

No words had been spoken since Eddie's.. resurrection. What could be said? He probably didn't even know he was dead for an extended amount of time. An amount of time no human should come back from. You had a creeping suspicion Eddie might not be human anymore.

I just wanted to add a little note at the end here. Last year, I lost two of my best friends and they meant the world to me. Grief is nothing to be ashamed of, or even scared of. It's all the unexpressed love you still hold for that person. Sometimes it's so overwhelming, your brain can't process it and shuts off your emotions, like you read here. If y'all need to talk, my inbox is always open.

#eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson imagine #vampire eddie x reader #vampire eddie munson #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things 4 #joseph quinn #mandi writes #parkermunson

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khae-writes · 2 years

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you are my home [ tartaglia/reader ]

tags: fluff, kisses, mentions dark side??, ooc??, fem reader, soft childe, dedicated to my best friend,

header

The sun arose, golden light shining upon a field of flowers of glaze lilies. The lovely ivory color pranced across the plains, small pebbles scattered around as the water rushed by falling into a long stream of waterfall down below. Peace and quiet, it was a moment of serenity; undisturbed and unperturbed. This was what Childe longed for — no, this was what Ajax longed for. Laying on the grass with nothing to care for, the rays of sunshine bathing his body that craved the peaceful background.

Childe — a title that he’d sullied and tainted with blood and merciless slaughter because of his drive to be an active machine in war; a title that he honors as the Eleventh Harbinger; a title that had scared many who’ve heard of his doings; a title of a strong man who’d countered many dangerous beings and lived.

And at the same time, a title that broke him bit by bit.

It was the very title that one day would spread a little far too wide in all of Teyvat that his younger siblings would hear of it. Where they would find out he worked as a villain in this cruel world; where his secret that he tried so hard and so long to keep; a secret to keep his family from being involved in dark business that could risk putting them in danger. Childe had to — no, Ajax — this was what he was keeping them from.

A world of monsters, nothing but ruin and lies — a cryptic and unapologetic dimension where if he asked as gently as he could, no one would bat an eyelash to help. A world so corrupted that despite not wanting to turn out a villain, Ajax turned into a fine asset on the battlefield. A world so unkind that just a simple witness to bloodshed would make one’s skin crawl and burn. A world where a young Ajax was forced to be brought into the Fatui because his desire to pursue violence was uncontrollable.

And one day, maybe that flickering grace of sanity in him would one day snap into a wisp of a flame.

Tartaglia couldn’t bear to picture his beloved younger brother look at him with soulless eyes, with indescribable disbelief as he would give him a look of incredulity if he saw his hands dirtied with wet gooey blood. He wouldn’t be able to fathom his surroundings; he might lash out; he might hurt—

No.

Tartaglia shakes his head, trying to rid of the negative thoughts in his head. He shouldn’t be thinking about such things in such an atmospheric calmness. He should be having fun; enjoying the scenery and resting. A good Harbinger shouldn’t break his mind over little things, no?

No. He had to stay calm; stay sane.

His family was waiting for him in Snezhnaya. Returning home into their arms with a broken mind would be like exposing his dark and poisonous behavior to his loved ones when it’s but a part of him.

‘Do not forget, Ajax, you are here to provide for your relatives and to serve the Tsaritsa as she sees fit. She wouldn’t like you questioning your abilities because she is never doubtful of your skills as one of her trustees.’

The ginger-haired male nearly lets out a laugh — would his family still look at him the same? Like he is a proud warrior who fights for the better good, someone who brings his family’s name to honor by selling toys that all children alike enjoy the toys he make? Would Teucer still look at him with those sparkling, bright jewels in his ocean-blue eyes, gazing up at him with unparalleled admiration? Or would they all turn their back on him, realizing that they’d been admiring a murderer in disguise?

Archons, he needed a distraction—

“Ajax?” A soft whisper brings him back to reality. The hallucination of his family staring at him in horror disintegrated into dust, his lifeless eyes blinking to turn his head sideways. His eyes met (e/c), and he felt his heart soften.

The girl he loves, the woman of his dreams, the queen he would rightfully do anything for so long as it was in his power. You were beautiful, inside and out. Your smile as your lips curl up onto an upwards curve, showing off that perfect smile that would brighten up his days to no end; your eyes that shined in the darkest of nights that not even the moon could compare; your hands that he loved holding even if there was no reason to — if people asked him if you were some sort of divine being, he would’ve responded yes. There was no one like you in the world.

The woman that loves him, the woman that cares for him, the woman that he keeps coming home to because he was high off on paradise every second he spent with you. There, next to him on the grass, you lied next to him with your hands resting on your chest as your head was tilted to face him.

“Yeah… what is it?”

You gave him a disapproving frown, brows furrowing. “You had this look again.”

“Did I?” The Snezhnayan male chuckles awkwardly as he rolled over to his sides so his right arm now supported his whole weight while his left hand caressed your cheek gently, a portion of his body hovering over you as he leans down to gently rub his nose with yours. “Sorry, I tend to… overthink sometimes.”

You bit down the giggle that almost slipped out from the eskimo kiss, your arms instead wrapping around his neck as you brought him closer. “That so? Mind if I know what it was about?” Your lips pecked his, and in just that split second, Tartaglia forgot what he was thinking of earlier.

God, he was drunk on love. And he wanted to bathe in it more, especially because it was you.

“Take a guess, I’d like to know too.” He teases, his pearly white teeth flashing as he coyly stares at you with a boyish grin. “I wonder what I was thinking about.” It wasn’t a lie, but it wasn’t the whole truth either.

You giggle, pushing his hovering body off of you and instead topping him by placing your two hands on either side of his body. Tartaglia was taken off guard, eyes flitting towards yours in slight surprise since you didn’t usually attack him first. You leaned down, lips brushing against his before letting out a short giggle.

Ajax nearly feels his heart jump out of his chest at your teasing, his cheeks reddening at what you were trying to do. His heart pounded hard and he was sure if you listened closely, you would hear the rapid noises it was making. But he focused on you solely — noticing how close you were and how he could practically feel your breath fanning on his lips every time you parted just a bit of those lips.

You were constantly in his vicinity after every battle, always in his line of vision, always so close to him — so close that he loved getting all too many opportunities to hug you, to hold your hand, to touch you, to kiss you any time he wanted; he loves simply just being there with you.

Every moment, to him, mattered.

It was when the ginger-haired male had finally grabbed all courage inside his heart to bring a hand up to the back of your head and push you closer. His head raised up a bit to meet your lips in a gentle kiss; one that, although you didn’t see coming (you probably did), you returned with just as much gentleness. Your lips and his moved in synchrony but unfortunately you both had to pull away for breath.

“What’s up with you today?” You laugh softly as you pulled away. “You’re quite soft today, not that it’s a bad thing.” You mused, seeing your lover’s expression convert into slight embarrassment, his cheeks tinted red.

He clears his throat, flushed cheeks. “Ah… well…”

You giggle and roll off of him, back onto the grass that tickled your cheeks. The silence that ensued after wasn’t uncomfortable in the least bit. Any moment with you was shared special, no matter where there are interactions or not. He counted them all and described each one as heavenly.

“Hmm… this is… a little random but,” this time, Ajax turned his head to look at you in curiosity, “what is home to you?”

He’d known beforehand what you’d lived as before he’d crossed paths with you — you were a victim of domestic abuse, and he was very much aware how much torment and pain you’d went through before stumbling upon him in dirtied garments. He had the option to ignore you, but the fear in your eyes triggered something in him — reminding him of himself from when he’d fallen into the Abyss.

Tartaglia was slightly apathetic as you asked, but as soon as you did, two things appeared in his head. One of his family in Snezhnaya and you, his beloved. The male hums in ponder, eyes darting upward, squinting slightly as they were blinded by the literal sun.

“You are my home.”

“Huh?”

“I would’ve honestly answered my family but,” he turns to you, eyes as dead as ever as he confesses, “they are my heart instead.”

You frowned. “Technically, in this given scenario, aren’t they the same?”

“They’re different for me. I can live without a home, but a heart I know I can’t go forward without.” He spoke, an aching in your chest stinging as he finishes.

And it hit you just how cold the meaning of his words meant. It was simple and straightforward, there was nothing to not get. That if he had to choose between his family and you, he wasn’t going to hesitate dropping you onto a pot of boiling lava for his own blood-related loved ones.

“I-I see… I’m sorry… for asking.” You apologized meekly, shying away now that you realized your worth in comparison to his family paled by a stretch away. What hurt, really, was that he didn’t even think twice about his decision. You knew already that he would pick family over you, but it still hurt.

“But,” he pauses again and you perked up, eyes darting to him in nervousness, “without a home, I’m lost and alone.” Ajax turned to you, eyes softening a great amount as his thumb brushes over your cheek lovingly. “You are my home, (Y/n). You make me feel safe and protected—make me feel like I can be myself without a hindrance, make me feel comfortable. You…” He trails off, his forehead leaning on yours. “I love you. And that even if I can live without you, I wouldn’t.”

Your heart beat erratically, your nose turning red as you sniffled. “Oh…” You tear up, hiding your face in your hands as he continued to caress your skin in a graceful manner.

“I… love you too. You’re my home too, Ajax—and I… I’m so glad you’re here…” You stammered, choking on your sobs before wrapping your arms around him. Under the bask of sunrays and amber light, you two held each other in a moment of peace and serenity.

This was all what Ajax needed to keep himself sane.

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starredforlife · 2 years

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Hii I asked the question about the Allupa header. when I see the piece I am most reminded of alexandre cabanel’s Fallen Angel (mostly because of lupa’s expression) so that really informs my reading of it. I see Fallen Angel as a humanization of the devil who looks kind of petulant, vulnerable and guarded in the painting. For me, it challenges the understanding of Lucifer as a symbol of evil. I connect this to the werewolf who is traditionally a threat/abomination. Though I did not think about this before you pointed it out in your response, I can see Al as the Angel protecting or healing Lupa as the damned/maybe traumatized creature, and though Lupa’s pose is protective/possessive there is a sense of vulnerability/defensiveness just as in fallen Angel. I would literally love for you to dig into the symbolism in their relationship in the story/how their monster-types relate in-text. I find these characters and their story very intriguing! Sorry for how long this is lol

i'm gonna cry djkfkdl thank you for an artistic analysis my life goal is complete now i love u <3 <3 and no thank you so much for keeping it long

I do love your interpretation of it a lot because, like I said, it could go either way. I didn't even have Fallen Angel in mind but I can totally see that comparison!

I don't even know where to begin with them tbh there's just so much and it's all like, a jumbled board with the strings and pictures. but not all of the dots are quite connected yet, so i will try my best to surmise here. so much under the read-more, I'm so sorry

OH AND ALSO B4 YOU READ IT ALL here is their playlist it kind of answers a couple questions as well

I think for this piece it's mostly important to know that both Lupa and Al share a fatal flaw of sorts: they are both very self-sacrificing, in their own ways. There is a periods in their stories where the other feels safer literally dying for the other person than confronting their feelings for them. They have to hold to each other, metaphorically and physically, so that they don't let themselves go. It's not necessarily healthy, these kinds of stakes, and it does sort itself out eventually. But around this time, it boils down to: If I told you how much I care, it would only hurt us both.

So they cling to each other because they can't say anything. The circumstances of plot prevent them from getting together like a normal couple, and their own complicated past prevents them from simply kissing and telling, ykwim? Al liked Lupa first, and had to overcome a million hurdles to even admit it to herself, then Lupa got a boyfriend, then she breaks up with him and Al moves on, and then Lupa falls for Al, and at the same time they're finding out that the other person sees them, fully, as they are, and it's completely overwhelming and frustrating. But through it they hold each other. They would go through hell to make sure the other person makes it out the other side. Lupa would tear into God himself to make sure Al is safe. Al would go against her own divinity to make sure Lupa remains intact. so not to be That Person but they are Running Up That Hill (Deal with God) in essence bc I'm lame and I love that song so much

Their entire relationship is a duality in my head. A wolf and a sheep or a dog and a ram, beauty and the beast, devil and angel, the divine and the sinful, lion and lamb, healing and sickness, promises and lies. Sun and Moon! ETC ETC They are not confined to one definition, and their growth comes from being loved for what the other sees in them. Lupa and Al always dance on the line between duality. So that's why this piece is ambiguous--it's really just that they are one being, almost, in their monsterhood.

What's an angel to a werewolf? It's almost the same as an alien to us--bright, and unfathomable. It's sunlight on the night of the full moon. Their touch can burn as much as it can heal, and that's the choice of the holy to make. And Al always chooses to heal.

A werewolf to an angel is what the Earth is to anyone fond of her. A representation of the indomitable human spirit--uncontrollable to any god. Lupa's stubborn pursuit of freedom and indulgence at any means terrifies Al at first, but she grows to understand and admire why Lupa chases these things. There's a wilderness to Lupa that's just as incomprehensibly addicting as Al's proximity to godhood.

SO in terms of the art piece. The point was to make it seem like Lupa is holding back--we don't know from what. She's defensive, but restrained. Without Al there, we don't know what the image would actually be. But the even more important point is that Al doesn't appear afraid at all. You could look at this and see, at a glance, damsel in distress, and the terrible wolf that took her away. But you look at the expressions and you notice that she's calm--almost in control. And under that subversion, the wolf is the one that's tamed. Maybe Al's the wolf in sheep's clothing. Maybe Lupa protects the viewer. Maybe Al's the beating heart of a beast and Lupa's the cage around it. In the end, they are entwined, body and soul and spirit.

The colors contrast, and were chosen on purpose. Green for the ties to forest and monsters, and orange for a too-bright warmth, closer to fire than the sun. Somewhat dangerous, and a little unstable. Typically Lupa has more blues and Al has more yellows, mellowing out their appearances a bit. But in this moment they're unpredictable. So they hold each other. It all comes back to that, always. Holding and clinging tight and not letting the other go. I'm going to go fuckin nuts

There's so muchharghdvjsfk like. Al was a ghost as well. A literal spirit, detached from herself, and when she met Lupa, Lupa was extremely Herself, individualized and "confident" (traumatized to the point of projecting a tough personality). And then she loses her lycanthropy and becomes, in a sense, a ghost herself. And Al returns and she's everything she ever wanted to be--a hero, a healer. It's all !! SOO MUCH that's too much to talk abt though. you'll just have to watch the show or comic or w/ever eventually <3

BUT again thank you so much for the analysis and thoughts it truly means so so much <3 I'm so happy people like digging into my art like this it really makes me happy

#star's asks #nocturnal city #long post #oc tag #im so sorry i feel like this doesnt even begin to scrape the top and also incomprehensibly answers your question #i just have to write a lot more abt them first lol

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navybrat817 · 3 years

Text

Nick Fowler Masterlist

Welcome to my Nick Fowler Masterlist, lovelies, and I hope you enjoy! Header by @sgt-seabass , banners by @vase-of-lilies and dividers by @firefly-graphics. Check them out!

Main Masterlist

I have discontinued my tag list. Please follow my sideblog @navybrat817-sideblog and turn on notifications to see new fics! I will only post fics, writing ideas and updates there.

🔥 smut 💓 fluff 💔 angst 💞 AU 🛑 dark content 💙 Navy's faves

Mini-Series and Shared Universes

Undercover (Nick Fowler x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Your partner wants you...and so does the man watching you.

Lie to Me 🔥 💞 (undercover) 💙

Summary: The lines get blurred when you go undercover with Nick.

Tell Me You Love Me

Nightclub (Nick Fowler x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Reader, Nick Fowler x Reader x Bucky Barnes)

You’re unwillingly caught in a battle between a nightclub owner, Nick, and his bouncer, Bucky.

Push and Pull 🔥🛑 💞 (nightclub) 💙

Summary: Nick wants what Bucky has.

Back and Forth

Mob

Nick has the world in palm of his hands. It’s too bad someone wants to destroy it.

Bride and Groom

Summary: Nick lives in a dangerous world, but it won't stop him from marrying the love of his life.

Read Between the Lies (Featuring Max Burnett x Reader)

The Truth Will Set You Free 🔥🛑

Summary: An agent from Max's past has some questions for you.

Skeptical

Summary: Nick lives in a dangerous world, but it won’t stop him from marrying the love of his life.

Summary: Nick and Max have a conversation.

Reluctant

Summary: Max and Nick say you're not playing a game, but you find yourself to be a reluctant player anyway.

One Shots, Drabbles, Headcanons & Imagines

Soft Spot 🔥

Summary: Nick has only one soft spot...you.

Gratification 🔥💙

Summary: A ring on your finger isn't enough to satisfy Nick Fowler.

Wake Up Call 🔥

Summary: Just a morning in bed with Nick.

Coming Home 🔥

Summary: You welcome Nick home after a mission.

Just a Dream

Summary: The stranger in your dreams seems familiar to you.

Hell Hath No Fury 🔥

Summary: You show Mace that Nick belongs to you.

Falling Apart for You 🔥

Summary: You’ve been hurt before, but Nick will wait for you.

Give It to Me 🔥

Summary: One is never enough for Nick, so why not return the favor?

Trust Me 🔥

Summary: Nick just needs a little push to get things to the next level.

Put on a Show 🔥

Summary: Nick doesn’t like to share, but he’ll let you put on a show.

Christmas Karma

Summary: Nick doesn’t appreciate anyone pushing you around, especially when you’re shopping.

Salt in the Open Wound 🔥 🛑 💞 (a/b/o)

Summary: Nick's jealousy gets the better of him when you take an assignment with another alpha.

Monster in Your Head 🔥 🛑 💞 (demon)

Summary: After being captured and sold to a powerful demon, Nick, you begin to wonder if you're right where you belong.

With This Ring 🔥 🛑

Summary: Nick wants you to be his wife, even if you don't think you're ready.

#navybrat writes #nick fowler x reader #nick fowler x you #nick fowler x y/n #nick fowler x female reader #alpha!nick fowler x omega!reader #demon!nick fowler x angel!reader #nick fowler imagine #nick fowler fanfiction #nick fowler masterlist #nick fowler

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kimageddon · 2 years

Text

Sins of the Father - 1:1

Contains/Warnings: Modern/Crime AU, Maul x Zaiya(nightsister OC) Chapter Summary: Zaiya Valessa arrives in the city of Coruscant with only one mission: Revenge. Notes: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I have been working on this for quite some time! Now, the uploads aren't going to be quite what I anticipated, I had planned to upload one chapter at a time. But a WHOLE chapter.... is gonna be like 10 - 15k words EACH and pretty dense. My lovely beta reader @eyecandyeoz suggested I break it into smaller chunks. That does mean however that you will have Sins content more often! Not as often as my long-running A Prince of Dathomir series, but I am gonna aim for fortnightly uploads. Thank you also to @eloquentmoon and @maulslittlemeowmeow for the encouragement and the feedback on the little crumbs. I am very happy with how this has turned out and I really look forward to seeing what you guys think of it!

Chapter 1 - The Long Road

You see the only path before you nowIt’s the only road you feel, that you can walk downRevenge is one long and lonely roadAnd once you walk it then, you know, you cannot let goAgainSo if you chose this, you must knowYou’ll walk alone, you’re on your ownAngel chose the road of hateAnd given in unto this fateYou cannot stop what has begunNow see it though, what’s done is doneI would spare you if I couldBut you won’t take it as you shouldThis hand of mine I offer youUntil the Devil pays his dues

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The City of Lies

Coruscant.

It's a city that doesn’t ever really sleep. Even in the quiet hours, it only waits. Waits for the next unsuspecting fool to stumble into the shadows. To be swallowed into the darkness. It only took a few steps to stray from the path and fall. Some fall into it, blindly flailing for a handhold.

But some. Some walk into the shadows with their eyes open. My eyes are open. I know what this path will lead me to. I know these old familiar shadows. I have seen the true face of this city and I will not shy away. Mother, I know you wanted better for me, but I cannot turn away, not after learning the truth. Perhaps if I can make the monster of our past pay… well. I make no promises. I know this path. And I shall reach its end, one way or another.

Zaiya Valessa looked up at the old building. Ten storeys, built well over a hundred years ago, once perhaps it was a hotel, glamorous in its prime… Now it was little more than a testament to squalor. The apartments were run down, the building itself in desperate need of repair… or demolishing.

The parking lot was cracked, weeds attempting to retake the asphalt between the old rusty cars, they too having had better years before the downturn of the times and people were scrambling for the resources just to survive. Who would have thought that in a city known for progress and passion and plenty… that poverty was so rampant? Her upper lip curled, it was shabby, miserable, dangerous… drafty. But it would be perfect for her purposes. No one would notice her here. No one would even be looking, they had no idea what she had planned.

The 6th floor studio apartment itself was cramped, a sliding cupboard door to the wardrobe and linen closet was to the immediate left of the door, and to the right was the rest of the space. The walls looked as if they had not been painted in a while and a few cracks evident in various places.

On the wall along from the door was what she supposed was a kitchen, more of a kitchenette really, a few sagging cupboards, a small dented fridge and a few other small appliances that looked older than she was. Opposite was a small table, really only big enough to seat two but it was not like she planned on company anyway. On the far wall were windows though grimy, a worn looking couch below it. The only door other than the main one was adjacent to the kitchen and led to a questionable bathroom, it seemed clean but with the dark tiling and stained grout it was hard to tell for sure.

The bed was somewhat concealed by the wall separating the bathroom from the rest of the space though the mattress was definitely not new and she did not want to know what those stains were. Glad enough that she was wise enough to bring a mattress protector to fit under her sheets.

She dragged her things inside, having to make three trips from the taxi that had dropped her off, she finally closed the door once she was inside and observed that the chan lock was relatively new and there was evidence that there had been another but it had been ripped out forcefully. If she had to guess she would say the door had been kicked in before, a wonder it was holding together at all. Though, it was all she could afford with her meagre savings. Through the connections of her father she’d been able to secure a job at a little bookshop that would allow her flexible hours and the ability to do as much research as she needed so long as she did enough to cover rent and expenses. It was not some flight of fancy that had brought her here after all. She had a job to do.

All she’d brought with her were a few boxes and a large suitcase, she didn’t plan on making herself at home. She hoped this entire endeavour would not take long though there was of course no way to tell. How long did revenge take? How long was a piece of string? The most important task for now was to begin with information gathering.

She paused as she lay the box she carried on the kitchen table, it rocked to one side - one leg being too short - and looked down at her rumpled clothing. Hm. Actually, the first order of business would be to unpack enough to have a shower and get changed. The trip had been long, from the train to the taxi, and now she was pretty tired. Her father had often said that actions while tired, hungry or horny were never wise to act upon. He was right, though maybe telling a twelve year old that had not been the best idea.

The room felt cold, like it was aching, she could almost hear the faint memories in the walls as she began to rummage through her main suitcase. She was barely a guest here. A ghost, and she intended to remain that way. Small comforts however were something she could indulge in. Zaiya made up the bed with newly purchased sheets, and grabbed a pair of pyjamas. It was already late, the sun had set and she was tired from the constant travel. As much as she wanted to get to work immediately, she was already sluggish in her movements.

The young woman dragged herself into the bathroom and glanced at her reflection in the cracked mirror. Her white hair had mostly stayed in the braid she’d done that morning, though there were a few wisps now loose around her pale face. She leaned forward, her dark makeup still looked good, the only indication of how tired she was were in the electric blue eyes peering back at her. She did have to remove the thick winged liner and black lipstick now though, she had no one to mask for after all. Her dimple and septum piercings were alright, though she would have to make sure she cleaned around them carefully when she removed her makeup.

The shower was at least hot, though the groan of protest from the pipes suggested it may not last long. The water eased her aching shoulders and growing headache, but she washed up quickly, she wanted to check something before she hit the hay. The events of the last few weeks rushed through her mind and for the first time in about three days, she was able to reflect on the events that had led her here.

══════════════════

Home was an odd thing to the pale-haired woman, this place, a town like any other, nestled between two mountains, friendly, welcoming, unassuming. She’d not been born there, she’d arrived on the doorstep of two men on the outskirts in a rush of panic and fear, delivered to them by a frantic woman that was ever looking over her shoulder.

The woman had been a part of a news crew that had been sent to investigate what Zaiya had learned to be a zealous religious group whose compound was settled deep in the forests.

The woman had been sent with a message from the nine year-old’s mother;

“Look after her for us,”

All this Zaiya only remembered in a blur. One day she was in the strange village in the redwoods, the next, she was in the little house of two fellows that she had never met before. Adaji Treshan and Jango Fett were old college friends of her father, Temuss. They had taken her in when her parents could not escape the compound and there she had stayed for many years.

The two had taken her in, trying their best with how to deal with a small child suffering from constant nightmares and a streak of aggression that was too big for someone her size.

Adaji was the man she now referred to as ‘Dad’. He and Uncle Jango were not exactly the best of men, having been a part of gangs in their younger years. Jango had only just gotten used to being a single father of twins, and Zaiya had been more than willing to assist with little Boba and Omega. Their house had gone from empty to full in the space of about a year. The two men had taught her a lot, how to survive, how to fight, and then as a teenager, how to tend a bar because of course they had. It was one of the sources of income for the household; Fett Stopp they’d called it and even as a child Zaiya was unimpressed and it served as something of an in-joke in the family.

The other source of income came from Adaji and his PI business, he was a lot cleverer than he pretended to be and was actually very good at his job. Even as a child she had been fascinated by his line of work, so it was not long til she was learning little things from him as well.

Life had been relatively simple, considering her complicated beginnings. For years she just lived in that little town, the blurry memory of the village swathed in red and… a fire? Memories she did remember were only few, the fear, thick and choking, like a smog that filled the village. Another memory was a man in black, imposing, frightening, twisted, always watching her.

The last was… a boy. A young boy about her age with skin of red and black, little horns on his head. She remembered him fondly, hiding in secret places and whispering together. In comparison, this new town was one of peace, friends and smiles. For the most part. Though it was always Zaiya’s hope that her mother would be able to escape too and join them. Learning via a letter smuggled with the girl that her father had died was hard enough, but awaiting her mother had been a thread of hope in her life. Her mother had to join them. She had promised after all. She had promised the day she had sent Zaiya away.

It had taken a long time for her to stop asking, and as the years wore on, the wish had become something to cling to. One day her mother would return. One day. She had to.

It was when Zaiya was nearly an adult that she had the choice to attend a private school in the far North that she had to tell herself that it was alright to go, that she would not miss anything. She convinced herself that by the time she’d returned, her mother would be there. Her mother would be waiting for her, proud of everything she had done. Of the diploma she’d earned, the way she had grown strong…

But it wasn’t to be.

When she had arrived it was a happy moment, but even then, she’d seen something in Adaji’s face that had told her something was not right. It was not until she had received the letter that she understood. That first line… it had been too much.

My darling daughter,

If you are reading this, then I failed. I was not able to escape and I am gone.

The scream that had ripped from her lungs was harrowing. She felt the last of her hope torn from her grip and no matter how she clawed and cried and wailed, the words didn’t change. Adaji had held her. Just held her until her voice was gone, the whole body-wracking sobs settled into a low moan of agony and shuddering breaths. Then even that faded into silence. Zaiya had stared at that letter for hours, the words simple yes so hard to process.

The truth in that letter had ripped her world apart. Torn her to pieces and left her so broken. Her mother was gone. She had gone, leaving this confession, the reveal of a monster. Or a man that had been the entire cause for the whole of that little town of red. The reason her mother had been trapped. Had he not created that place, made it and then left them all to suffer.

She learned the location of that monster and where to find him. Rage seeped in where sorrow had lain and she felt everything change for her in those moments. Zaiya had been a hollow shell for days, until the morning she had come to breakfast and announced - eerily calm - that she intended to venture to Coruscant and find the monster that had ruined their lives. She would find him. She would destroy him. She would tear him into little pieces. She would take everything from him and only then. Only then when he had nothing, would she finally kill him.

It was nothing less than he deserved. Why should she hold back when his actions had destroyed an entire town? Her family? She had never felt such anger in her life. Zaiya did not however tell Adaji or Jango any of this, lest they think she was foolish and tried to stop her. Perhaps she was foolish. Perhaps they would be right to stop her. She had made up her mind though. He deserved to pay. The man once known as Father Sidious would suffer for everything he took from them. The town. Her family. From her.

══════════════════

The water had run cold by the time Zaiya shut it off. She stepped out of the shower, dried and dressed in her nightclothes, a simple old band shirt that had once been Adaji’s and a pair of flannel pants. Her task would begin as the dawn rose.

She would have to be careful. He was powerful now, had great influence, she would have to be careful to avoid drawing too much attention to herself. Her bare feet padded across the cold floor and to the bed she would be using for her rest for the foreseeable future. Beside the bed was her backpack and she reached in to tug out her laptop, plopping it down beside her as she sat, her knees near her chin. Her eyes scanned the screen as it came to life, she connected to the net through the password she was provided by the estate agent she had signed the papers with.

Her first check was to the City Hall site, it was her first stop in the morning, perhaps she would have a chance to spot the filth she was there to destroy… though really it was better if she didn’t, she did not want to risk him recognizing her. The page came up and she nearly gagged, there he was, a photograph of the man himself, the ceremonial robes and all. The target of her hatred and her vengeance.

Sheev Palpatine. Mayor of Coruscant.

══════════════════

The City Hall building was as ornate as her apartment block was shabby.

Ostentatious, came to mind. The air was bitingly cold, and Zaiya was swathed in her black turtleneck, trousers and boots, a long grey coat hung to her knees and she had topped it with a wide brim black hat and gloves and a black and red scarf. Sunglasses hid her winged eyeliner but her matte black lips stood out against her pale skin. Luckily for her it was a busy day, there were people everywhere so no one would have a chance to linger on her for too long. She joined the slow procession that were citizens asking enquiries, and requesting information.

After a ridiculous wait she asked the clerk politely for access to the lower levels, the archives for her research paper, she flashed a fake student pass as identification, though it was not her name. The clerk barely looked at her and hit a few keys, printing out a small pass with a barcode that would allow her into the archives in the basement.

The ‘stacks’ as she learned they were referred to, were guarded by a shy Pantoran girl, barely older than Zaiya by the look of it. The girl showed her the section she was after, and Zaiya dived in. None of the resources were permitted to leave, but she could make copies at least. She dug immediately into the information from twenty years ago, of when Sheev first came to Coruscant, and how he had gained favour by inciting an outcry against the former Mayor’s policies. There was nothing about where he had come from, one article suggested that he had been travelling the Outer Rim continent with the church for charitable endeavours. She rolled her eyes. Of course he would put it that way. How pious of a former priest. She scanned these articles briefly and was rifling through a pile of old papers in order to sort them to put back, when one when a headline caught her eye.

Who is Palpatine Really?

Zaiya read a few lines, then sat back down as she was suddenly invested in the article, it asked questions of Palpatine’s life before and implied that it might not be as benevolent. It was the first article she’d found that was not a glowing review of all the housing projects and charitable works Palpatine had accomplished during his time as mayor.

She quickly pulled out a few more files to search for the reporter’s name. It wasn’t easy, and the more she looked the more it seemed like there was something missing. She called out to the Pantoran girl.

“Yes?” the woman asked, peering out from one of the bookshelves on the far side of the room.

“I’m looking for more information or articles from a certain reporter, goes by the name Fives?” Zaiya called and the girl’s face fell.

“Ah…” she muttered, “yes, well… he doesn’t have the best reputation, many called him a conspiracist.” she rolled her eyes but Zaiya was even more intrigued.

“Oh I see, he might be interesting to interview, I can present a more rounded paper if I can counter all his arguments…!” she reasoned and the Pantoran perked up, seeming to align with the same belief that Palpatine could do no wrong. Stupid girl. As it turned out, Fives was so disliked by the administration, much of his works had been stricken from the record, but the clerk was able to show her a few articles for Zaiya to copy.

Several hours had passed by the time she’d finished collating all the information together and slotted into a file she carried with her. There were one or two people on her list that she wished to speak to, but the top of that list was this ‘Fives’ though nothing in the archives told her where he might be now. Apparently he had become a little radical and had been fired from his job at the Coruscant Daily, and none of the sister papers wanted to touch him.

She made herself comfortable in a coffee shop near the City Hall building, taking notes in a little notepad she always carried with her. Adaji had taught her to back up her notes both physical and digital, and that phones were good but she could not rely on them completely. It was useful however as she now had signal on hers, and she was able to do a search for Fives on the holonet and sure enough he had a blog… and a podcast apparently. Of course he did. She scrolled through his blog, seeing rants, but there were a few interesting pieces and while she understood the conspiracist name, she believed that most if not all of his suggestions were true.

“Hello new bestie,” she muttered to herself as she sipped the hot chocolate from the takeaway cup. She wasn’t able to find an address, but there was an email address, and she quickly typed up a message.

Hello Fives,

You do not know me, but I think that you want to. I have information you need when it comes to a certain individual’s past. An individual responsible for your current situation. As proof, I have attached a photograph taken more than twenty years ago. If you would like the uncensored version, you would be wise to trust me. I do not offer this freely of course, my request is simple: I propose an exchange of information.

Please contact me at the earliest convenience. You won’t be sorry.

That should be enough of a hook, she thought to herself and smiled. She attached the copy of a photograph she had from their time in Dathomir. The faces of the others were all blacked out and there was little to tell where he was, but the youth in Palpatine’s face should be proof enough that she was not peddling fancies. It should definitely be enough to catch his attention.

As if on cue, her own attention shifted out the window as she watched a car pull up outside the building across the road. The vehicle was just as eye-catching as the building itself and she knew who was in it. She grabbed up her coffee and her files, and immediately set her phone to record video while she pretended to be looking at the folder and not paying attention.

Out of the corner of her eye she spotted a striking fellow in a mostly white suit, his skin as blue as her eyes and he cut a striking figure with those broad shoulders and swept back black hair. She’d seen him in the articles, though he had usually not been in the foreground.

A Chiss, by the name of Thrawn Ruodo, apparently no one could pronounce his real name and it wasn’t written anywhere she could find. He was the Mayor’s Deputy, and Zaiya had already added him to her list of suspects, she hoped Fives might be able to add to it. He might be able to give her a list of exactly who she needed to take out in order to weaken Palpatine’s hold on this city.

A moment later a shorter man with white hair stepped out. He was clad in all black and he was… God he was so much smaller than she remembered. He looked so old now. She remembered him as an imposing dark figure of her nightmares. From this distance he seemed so… normal. She knew better. As she watched him walk up the stairs to the main City Hall building she felt a deep burning hate that bloomed in her chest. How she longed to just make him pay there and then… but no, it would be too risky that he might survive. No… he needed to lose everything first. The doors closed behind him and now all she could do was wait for a new lead.

She was certain she would not be waiting long.

Notes: I am very pleased with this, I never thought I would write a fan fiction, let alone an AU one! But here we are! This is going to be shorter than APOD and it does indeed hane and ending, but I think it's a good story and I have worked hard on it.

As I always say, I love feedback, comments and responses. I would love to know your thoughts. As I said this one os probably going to be less regular in chapter length but instead of a huge dense chapter drom every month or so, I will give you bite sized pieces a little more regularly. I hope you enjoy!

Taglist! @two-black-leviathans @fallenrepublick @eyecandyeoz @ashotofspotchka @sitherin-mxschief @littlepossss @octupus-on-the-moon @justalittletomato @nxctuaryninetythree @mach-opress @mustluvecho @nahoney22 @leotatombs @eloquentmoon @the-chains-are-the-easy-part @maulslittlemeowmeow @misogirl828 @alwayssnivellus

#sins of the father #darth maul #maul fic #maul x oc #darth maul fic #nightsister oc #darth maul x oc #maul #lord maul #modern au #crime au #star wars

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septemberrie · 3 years

Text

Finally put together a post with (some of) my writing! Please let me know if you have any questions or if any links don’t work. xx Skye

Multi-Chapter Fics

Point of No Return [completed; 63k]

Riven wants redemption, Sky wants vengeance, Musa wants to prove herself, and Saul just wants a hug.

Tempting Fate [completed; 37k]

Collab with the wonderful @fitztragedy ; Rivusa modern dating app AU.

En Garde [completed; 52k]

Medieval AU featuring Rivusa, Skella (or is it 👀), and a court of intrigue.

It was just red. [completed; 97k]

Saul/Andreas; strangers to friends to brothers to (lovers?) to enemies.

Battle Lines [completed; 140k]

Saul Silva/Farah Dowling Royalty/Bodyguard AU; enemies to lovers.

One Shots

To Suffer Slings and Arrows [Angst/Whump]

Saul has escaped prison and is on the run when he encounters some friendly and not-so-friendly faces.

Brewing Chemistry [Angst/Fluff/Smut]

Saul owns a small pub in a small town. Andreas is a food critic from the big city. Safe to say these two are on the rocks.

Monsters [Angst/Fluff]

It's kid!Sky's bedtime.

Lies My Parents Told Me [Angst]

Saul and Sky are on a mission to track Burned Ones outside the barrier; misfortune ensues.

A Man Plants a Tree In Whose Shade He May Never Sit [Angst/Fluff]

Saul’s POV; parallels between Silrah and Rivusa.

Might Seduce Your Dad Type [Angst]

Andreas/Bloom (or is it 👀)

Stress Relief [Fluff/Smut]

Rivusa; a day in the life of exam week.

A Fanatic Heart [Angst]

Rivusa; what if Riven was a fairy and Musa was a Specialist?

Three Minutes [Fluff]

Rivusa; 500 words of tooth-rotting fluff.

Whump Bingo

Saul + Self-surgery

Saul + Riven mind control

FarahxSaulxBen + Help isn’t coming

Andreas + Heat stroke

Sky + fainting

Riven + Losing ability to speak

Rivusa + Trail of blood

Rivusa + Shivering uncontrollably

Rivusa + Missing/presumably dead

Better Late Than

What if Carson, not Phyllis, was the one to find Thomas after his [S6 spoiler action]?

Paper Riches

Dawsey gets his first glimpse of the woman with whom he's been sharing his love of reading.

mirror matter

Two times Dawsey receives news that forever shifts his life's trajectory.

A Moment of Weakness [Angst/smut]

Rhys takes a peek down the bond at the beginning of A Court of Mist and Fury.

The Birchin [Smut]

Ye olde “What if Feyre had taken up Rhys’ offer to join them in the sauna?”

Blackest Night [Angst]

Where did Azriel go when Mor and Helion went to bed together after the meeting at the Dawn Court?

In Charge [Smut]

Feysand explore dominance and submission (dom!Rhys and sub!Feyre).

Double Entendre [Smut]

Modern AU where the Inner Circle run a law firm. Feyre, Rhys, and Cassian are getting ready for a big night out when things take a turn.

Violent Young Desperate Gallant [Multichap; on hiatus]

The Outsiders AU that no one asked for.

Credit: Thank you @fitztragedy for the beautiful headers!

#fate the winx saga #tglapps #the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society #acotar #downton abbey #fanfiction #my writing #masterlist

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lovelydahelp · 3 years

Text

• welcome to lovelydahelp ♡

hi, everyone! this is my d/a help blog, specifically for those who have delusional attachments to characters, because i've only seen like, one or two blogs that do requests for specifically d/as, abhdbshd. (Please do not request for kins!)

more info and promo requests are under the cut! ♡

about the mod ::

hi! i'm mod nene. you can also call me kichi or sky, along with any variants or nicknames of those two names! i'm a minor, and my pronouns are lie/lies/lieself, bea/beats/beatself, bee/bees/beeself, bun/buns/bunself, she/her and it/its. ♡ my biggest inspirations are @/funkineditz , @/multiedits and @/kotobxki, hehe.

what you can request ::

icons :: including pride, heart eyes, circle, gif, heart, etc. default size is 300x300.

moodboards :: nine images linked to a specific d/a, ship, aesthetic, pride headcanon, etc.

stimboards :: eight stimmy gifs. these can be themed around a d/a, ship, pride headcanon, et cetera.

self care kits :: six items relating to self care, e.g. blankets, small accessories, skincare, etc. please be sure to specify what you would or wouldn't like.

fashion boards :: six clothing items / accessories. please specify what styles you would or wouldn't like when requesting.

sprite edits :: simple edits of a sprite e.g. adding a pride button, changing hair slightly, recoloring parts, et cetera. i'll try my best with more complicated ones but i can't do things like fully changing clothes or similar.

instagram boards :: an instagram board centered around a d/a. feel free to specify themes or aesthetics.

messy layouts :: a set of three icons and three headers, with a messy aesthetic, themed around a d/a. feel free to specify themes or colors.

pronoun / name validation :: feel free to give me a d/a or a name and pronouns (if neopronouns, please include the full set, e.g. 'xe/xem/xyr/xyrs/xemself') to validate. i'll write a couple sentences describing you using that name and/or pronouns!

main / most familiar sources ::

danganronpa

friday night funkin' (+ mods)

OMORI

cookie run

splatoon (1 and 2)

animal crossing

doki doki literature club

undertale / deltarune

stardew valley

cuphead

bendy and the ink machine

slime rancher

ghibli movies

monster prom / camp

the lego movie (1, 2 and lego batman)

i am generally open to outside sources! just check with me first before requesting for them. ♡

i do not support the creators of FNF or OMORI, or any other problematic media. you cannot control your D/As.

blacklist ::

requests for me (kokichi ouma, nene, hank j wimbleton)

horrorcore

traumacore

yanderecore

weirdcore

liminal spaces or similar things

hetalia

vivziepop media

the dre/am sm/p or anything similar / associated

killing stalking

boyfriend to death

south park

yandere simulator

lore olympus

any ships that are toxic, ab/sive, p/dophilic, inc/stuous etc.

men x lesbians, women x gay men

any canon child ab/ser, n/zi or p/doph/le character

i have the right to deny any request that makes me uncomfortable or that i don't want to do

DNI ::

homophobic / transphobic

transmed / truscum / exclusionist

against neopronouns or he/him lesbians / she/her gays etc

dd/lg / cgl / nsfw acc

terf / swerf / radfem

neo-n/zi / racist / antisemite

pro-cop / anti acab / anti blm

trump / maga supporter

p*do / map / nomap / pear / etc

are / support anti-antis / proshippers

ableist

sia supporter

id as yandere

ninjamuffin99 / tom fulp supporter

post about or support the dre/am sm/p

believe in "reserve oppression" ('blackwashing', cisphobia, reverse racism, etc)

are or support endos / tulpas / etc

intend to reality check or tag any of my posts with kin tags

you kin or claim to be me (nene from pico's school, kokichi ouma from danganronpa, or hank j wimbleton from madness combat)

i'm very friendly with the block button.

FAQ ::

what's a d/a?

this carrd explains them quite well! if you have any more questions, feel free to send an ask or message me about it. ♡

can i interact / follow if i don't have a d/a(s)?

yes! (as long as you don't fall under the dni criteria, of course. ♡)

can i request something if i don't have a d/a(s)?

no! this blog is for people with d/as exclusively.

can i use your edits on my tumblr / discord / etc?

yes! my edits are all free to use anywhere. all i ask is that you credit me (a simple "[edit] by lovelydahelp" will suffice! ♡)

are mod applications open / are you looking for mods?

not at the moment! i can't say i'll never open mod applications, but as of now it's just me. ♡

will you do requests for (source)?

assuming it's not a source on my blacklist, i'll have to check it out first, and i may be selective with it, but most likely yes! ♡

would it be okay to request a promo? ♡

@fairytalefragments @delushelp @da-sys-support @hexedits @twisted-lies @wuvcrossing @kotobxki @multiedits @macaronnes @sweetheartedits @kuzuryuucore @lilypadedits

#• 💕 about #• 💕 completed #• 💕 answered #• 💕 denied #• 💕 accepted #• 💕 promo #• 💕 reblog #• 💕 important #d/a #delusional attachment #actually delusional #d/a help

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thelancemanly · 3 years

Text

Turning a Paige (over)

Have you guys ever wondered about the girl in my icon and header? Her name is Paige, and she’s a vampire. She has a pet tentacle monster named Princess. Sometimes, Paige is away from her castle for days or even weeks at a time, and loves to get in some hard-earned rest & relaxation once she gets home.

You know where this is going.

Please enjoy!

Paige sighed with relief at the sight of her luxurious bed, shedding the cares and weight of the world along with her clothes the moment she entered the room. After weeks away from home, the carved stone floor several inches beneath her hovering feet just felt right. She glided across the room, lighting an ornate brass candelabra with a hushed arcane whisper and a point, then fell with a lovely sigh onto her bed. It smelled like fresh linens and clean air; her servants had been hard at work keeping the castle nice for her in her absence.

All of the stress of travel melted away as she lied face-down in her bed, inhaling the refreshing scent of clean sheets that seemed to push the memories of stale, uncomfortable tavern beds and cramped carriages from her mind. So excessive was the feeling of being at home, that place she’d lived in for more than a century, that she began kicking her feet against the bed beneath her. Paige let out a heavy, relieved sigh that rapidly climbed in volume until she was almost shouting, clutching the sheets in her delicate fingers and pulling them close as she rolled over like a blanket burrito.

A few minutes passed as she reveled in the comfort of her bed for the first time in almost a month. Gently, her eyes fluttered open, and a mischievous grin spread across her face. Her sharp little fangs showed as she spoke.

“Oh, Princess?” Her voice rang out into the room, which suddenly began to glow with a faint purple light. Slowly, the floor beneath Paige’s bed was wreathed in roiling light and shadows, and long tendrils crept up into the air around her. As the inky shadows peeled away like wicking water, they revealed the long and grasping forms of her pet’s many tentacles, a lovely shade of blue and wet with some kind of lubrication.

“Mommy needs some relaxation, darling,” she mused, her voice pouty with faux fatigue. From the tentacles’ point of view, Paige was a blanket burrito with two slender feet poking out of one end. Nevertheless, she heard them sliding along the fabric around her, and felt the cool kiss of their touch against her ankles as they slipped delicately up her legs. She shut her eyes against the sensation, a little coo slipping from between her lips.

Paige shivered as the sensation of cool, moist tendrils passed across her rosy pussy. A single tentacle gently grazed against it, its temperature quickly rising from the friction as its comrades slid against her butt and snugly pushed between her breasts and the sheets below. It was only moments before she smelled it, the needy scent of sex that her favorite little pet carried with it always. The vampire’s eyes, the color of a setting sun, opened to find a tendril sliding towards her face, which she met with a smile.

“You know just what I need, don’t you?” she teased, watching as a shiver of anticipation ran down the tentacle before her. Paige slid her arms forward and gently grasped the slippery thing, coaxing it to her mouth where she planted a kiss atop the lewdly shaped tip. The taste of something like precum, heady and thick, spread across her lips. And, as she opened her mouth and lovingly took the tendril inside with a little “ah~”, across her tongue as well.

A warm, aching pleasure ran up Paige’s spine as the tendril below pushed hard up against her clit. It felt at once relaxing and anxious, like a massage that hadn’t yet worked out the kink. She wanted more so badly that she began to roll her hips back against the sensation, eagerly grinding her pussy onto the teasing tendril. Princess obliged, pushing the lewdly shaped head of the tentacle against her clit and brushing hot, slow circles against it, sending sparks of needy pleasure through Paige’s body. Her voice came out in hot, breathy gasps, muffled by the tasty tentacle cock in her mouth.

The vampire’s skillful fingers ran along a few feet of length of the tendril that was currently in her mouth, working its soft and slippery shaft while her tongue ran circles across the head. She was steadily breathing- a task she didn’t have to do, but one which came naturally- through her nose as she sucked along the length of the tasty thing, her hands gently squeezing as if urging it to do something. The tendril pushed in deep, coaxing a gasp from the girl as it pushed down her throat and came.

A lot.

It was a good thing that the vampire didn’t need to breathe as she gulped down copious amounts of the delicious cum, thick and creamy against her throat. Her hands quickly stroked along as much of it as they could reach, sending ropey shots of seed deep down her throat and into her waiting belly. A hazy warmth filled her as she gulped it down, her eyes fluttering shut. Finally, the tendril subsided, shivering with bliss as it drew out from between her lips. She planted a messy kiss upon the tip before whispering between gasps of building pleasure.

“Thank you.”

Paige felt the tentacles that had been groping her ass, hot from the friction by now and slick with dripping need, slide away from her well-massaged skin to reposition themselves. With hearts in her eyes, she realized where they were going as their thick tips pressed against her pussy and ass, both wet from the tendrils’ affections.

Slowly, patiently, they pushed inside of her. A dull, warm pleasure joined the electric bliss below as she was filled with two thick, hot tentacles. They felt different from a cock, so hard and unyielding, in a way that Paige really appreciated right now. As they pushed inside, they slowly explored her, flexible and careful like a lover’s tongue. Rolling against her sensitive spots, Paige’s pet drew the most exquisite reactions out of her, coaxing out moans and shaky gasps of breath that caught in her chest and made her normally low voice squeak.

The vampire’s fingers turned even paler than usual as they gripped the blankets in which she was rolled, delightfully constrained while the tentacles worked themselves inside of her. Even the way they thrusted felt different than a person’s: Though Paige missed the feeling of hips slapping against her petite ass, the hot tentacles filling her holes moved in long, undulating thrusts that caused them to push deeper than any ordinary person could go. Even as the next thrust came, the tip only slid back a few inches, and so each lunge came without the aching feeling of a cock pulling free before ramming back in.

Paige’s eyes began to roll back as she gripped the blankets, hot gasps rolling out of her mouth to the rhythm of the tentacle driving deep into her pussy. The thick, slippery one that filled her ass with warm bliss was countering the rhythm, causing the waves of hot pleasure that rocked through her body to never truly subside. The petite vampire’s butt repeatedly bumped against the blanket overhead, her small figure getting partially lifted off the bed by the force of the thrusts all while the tendril against her clit continued to grind.

Her tongue lolling out of her mouth as she was eagerly fucked in both holes by her excited pet, the vampire’s moans began to rise in pitch and volume as they were driven out of her every other thrust. Her legs tried to squeeze shut, tried to clench against the mounting pleasure, but a pair of tentacles held them apart and so she could only helplessly strain in a way that made her blush.

“Give it to me~!” she cried, that last syllable hanging in the air as her voice echoed out into the room, slowly melting into a shuddering moan of bliss as the tentacles inside of her began to pump her full to the brim of thick, creamy cum. The hot, sticky mess began to run out of her holes as they continued fucking her brains out, each thrust pushing more into, and then out of, her. An orgasm hit her like a truck, built up too high and then carried too long as it ran through her body in electric waves, causing her vision to blur and flowing all the way down to her toes which curled tight.

“Thank youuuuuuu,” she whispered, her voice hoarse and raspy after all that moaning, gripping onto the sheets until the last drops of cum ran down her pussy in little rivulets and settle against her fluffy pubic hair and the blankets beneath her.

Finally, as the blissful heat of her orgasms subsided, Paige felt the tendrils pull free. The well-spent one that had given her her meal earlier curled up near her face, and she gave it a pet like one might scratch the chin of a beloved cat, then smooched the tip.

“Good girl, Princess,” she cooed, before drifting off into a lovely warm nap. Finally home, only the thought of how she was shamefully going to have to ask her servants to clean her bed already could dampen her blissful mood.

#vampire #tentacles #consentacles #my works #paige

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itsamejin · 4 years

Text

this love || yoongi angst

Summary: A story through the years detailing your relationship with Yoongi and all the ups and downs that came with dating an idol.

Warning: cursing, sexually suggestive content

Genre: angst, fluff, idol!yoongi, artist!yn

Pairing: Yoongi x female!reader

Premise: Based on the song ‘This Love’ by Taylor Swift. Reader is an artist.

Commission Request: @minyoongail

Word Count: 7,681 words

—

You met Yoongi when he was just a trainee, ready to take on the world and bursting with energy to get on stage. He had visions of grandeur- him living in a beautiful mansion, wearing name-brand jewelry, cruising in rare sports vehicles. When times were simpler, he’d promise that you’d be there with him, indulging in the glitz and glamour that came with his fame. He’d be an idol and you’d be his muse. Yet under all those pretenses, under all those empty promises, he was just Yoongi.

He was a guy who walked in and out of your life as easily as ocean tides come and go on the shore. He taught you how to fall in love, fall out of it, and rekindle it all the same. It was a sort of beautiful asphyxiation, being wrapped up in his lifestyle and learning to accept the consequences that came with dating a celebrity.

You wonder even now as you search his name on the internet, if you had any regrets. After all, you lost too much to be with him.

—

April 2013

A first meeting meant everything to you, especially when it came to your clients. You didn’t accept jobs from weirdos who didn’t respect your craft and you definitely hated impatient ones who badgered you to finish your pieces as quick as possible.

Big Hit was a happy medium and had hired you as a contract employee after reviewing your portfolio. Although the style of work they wanted from you was not at all what you specialized in, you were happy that they treated you like an actual employee and not some sort of machine. Plus, the pay was good.

You were asked to work on some cute animal characters for an upcoming boy group that you weren’t terribly familiar with, maybe stumbled on a vlog of theirs that you forgot about. You were intrigued by the slew of trainees that sat in front of you, their palms clenched out of anxiousness.

“I’m [Y/N], one of the digital artists that will be working with you guys from now on,” you introduce yourself politely to the seven bright-eyed boys in front of you.

You were in a room with other staff members, discussing the concept of the “Hip Hop Monsters” your graphics team was working on. This was a planned project lasting over a span of years and would eventually result in collectors edition items. It made you giddy just thinking of the royalties you’d earn from it all.

“I’d like it if the animals took after us,” one of the boys suggested shyly, slightly intimidated by the large number of corporate employees there were in the room for something that seemed so trivial. “I think our fans would like the characters more if they kind of resembled our personalities and stuff...”

You nod along to his suggestions, staring at his jersey to notice that the member who spoke up was Rap Monster. It was cute how they all wore clothes with their names on them. That’s one way to attract attention, you suppose.

“Any other suggestions you guys have for us?” you ask, jotting down notes and making rough sketches as they talk amongst themselves.

“I’d like it if,” a somewhat husky voice starts and you can’t help but stare into the guy’s eyes as he speaks, “my character was a turtle.”

You burst out into a fit of laughter along with the other staff members. He had said it with such a straight face and with so little enthusiasm, yet you could tell from his slight blush that he was serious. He was cute in the way that he wasn’t trying to be.

“You resemble one,” you grin at him, drawing out a small turtle with a cute beanie on your iPad, like the one he wore in front of you. You show it to him. “Something like this?”

“Exactly that!”

He breaks out into a gummy smile, one so bright that it hurt your heart to stare at him for too long. Now you were the one left flustered. He realizes how enthusiastic he was and got embarrassed once again, scratching the back of his head to avoid eye-contact.

“S-sorry, for shouting. It looks good.”

You bite your lip from forming too big of a grin. You still had to remain professional after all.

“You’re welcome,” you smirk slightly as he goes back to trying to look cool. You can’t help but doodle his name on your iPad even as the other members shared ideas for their own animals.

Suga, Suga, Suga.

You smile to yourself. It does have a ring to it.

—

June 2013

Yoongi sees you in the hallways sometimes and wants to say hi, but he can’t because other people are watching. Though, that isn’t the only reason.

He tells himself every day that he’ll muster up the courage to go talk to you, but every time he sees your face his legs turn to jelly. Yoongi was busy with debut stages recently, but he found some free time in his schedule to approach you.

Yoongi was never the shy type, more reserved if anything else, but you had something that enamored him- intrigued him. He wanted to know who you were other than the cute girl he was stuck in meetings with from time to time.

As you sat there on your desk, Yoongi lingered in an area nearby. He would give you his number today and if things didn’t work out then that would be that. There was no need to be all shy about this; it’s not like this is his first time asking someone out.

He strides over to you with feigned confidence and you look up after a minute, not noticing how his shadow loomed over you. He sees that you’re working on realistic portraits of the members and not the cutesy characters he usually sees you drawing.

“Hi,” he says curtly, trying to seem disinterested though he was the one that approached you first.

“Hello,” you smile up at him.

Suga.

“You draw really cool stuff,” he says to break the awkward tension. “You should show it to the CEO. I’m sure we’d have cooler concepts for our albums with your work.”

You look up at him, a happy glint in your eyes. He was complimenting you, although avoiding eye contact to seem a little less nervous than he really was.

“Well, I’m just a contract worker so I don’t think I really have the authority to start up new projects out of nowhere,” you say with a smile on your face at how flustered he looks. “I feel like you’re here to ask me for something. Am I right?”

He looks away for a split second, coughing to alleviate his nerves. He was a grown man for fuck’s sake, why was this so difficult?

“I was actually wondering if you could come give me some opinions about some art that I drew,” he lies through his teeth, just trying to find a way to get you in a more private area than the corporate floor teaming with watchful gazes. “I’ve been trying to start a new hobby.”

You chuckle slightly, seeing right through his words. You stand up to amuse him.

“I’d be happy to.”

He leads you to a studio filled with whacky knick-knacks and dim lighting, not necessarily the best place to draw. You know by now that he just said those things as an excuse to be alone with you.

“So where’s this masterpiece?” you tease slightly at his nervous expression. How did a guy who looked so deadpan have such a giddy personality?

“Well actually,” he starts off, palms already sweaty. “I-It’s not here right now, but I think I left it at the dorms. Maybe if we exchange phone numbers I can text it to you.”

He tried to appear nonchalant, but his hands moved as if he was doing a public speaking presentation. Yoongi thought he was doing great, though growing a little more nervous at how you were giggling.

“You know, Suga,” you start teasingly, “My number is in the company directory. Feel free to text me anytime.”

Yoongi slightly cringes hearing his stage name. He loves it, don’t get him wrong, but he didn't like hearing it come from you. He didn’t like the unfamiliar aspect that came with using his stage name- like you two only went by professional terms.

“Call me Yoongi,” he says with genuine confidence this time. “I like it better when my friends call me Yoongi.”

You nod, relieved that you could finally know this cute guy’s name. Truth be told, you were snooping around his conversations with other people to figure it out.

“So we’re friends?”

Yoongi nods, sitting down in his rolling chair.

“I’d like to be,” he grins, patting the sofa, hoping you’d take a seat with him.

And you do.

—

Present

It’s hard to work efficiently when you’re no longer in a corporate space. There’s no boss to check up on your progress nor is there a nosy coworker trying to see what you’re doing from the corner of their eye. You missed the hustle and bustle of an office floor, but it was nice exploring your creativity through freelance work.

You tap your digital pen onto the table repeatedly, looking at the reference image over and over again. It was a sick joke played by the universe to have been commissioned to draw your ex-boyfriend’s idol group, but you couldn’t refuse the hundreds of dollars the ecstatic fangirl was willing to give you. Truth be told, she might have offered too much pay, but you took up her offer anyway. Money is money.

Yet a face you’ve touched so often, a person you’d been with for years felt so unfamiliar to you. It wasn’t like you were drawing him realistically either. The client wanted anime-style figures that resembled them, looked enough like the boys to display it as her Twitter header. In the end, it’s still too difficult to draw. The rest of the members were lined up and sketched perfectly, but there was a blank area where Yoongi’s face should’ve been.

Your wrists hurt from the constant drawing and erasing so you set it down to massage your hand from cramping. In moments like these, you hated your job.

Ting.

A message notification popped up on your phone that laid beside your iPad. You usually left it silent when you were working, but you opened yourself up to distractions when drawing this particular piece. Whoever thought it was a good idea to specialize in celebrity artwork? You pick up your phone and smiled softly at the text.

hey, can I come over?

—

March 2014

“Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Yoongi, happy birthday to you~~”

You cheer on with the rest of the boys in their cramped dorm. Somehow you had gotten close enough with them to be at this level of comfort, sitting crisscrossed and shoulders touching with Jungkook and Seokjin. Yoongi blows out the candles and claps his hands, a little sad that another year passed by so quickly. He kept glancing at you who was focused on cutting the cake like the perfectionist you were.

He couldn’t help but feel like time was running out, like if he didn’t confess to you now then it would never happen. Yoongi took off the beanie he wore and ruffled his hair. He was feeling anxious all of a sudden.

“Dude don’t do that your dandruff is gonna get everywhere,” Hoseok whines. “The cake is gonna be decorated with your dead skin cells.”

“Go wash your hands,” Jin commands and Yoongi could only roll his eyes.

“Relax, I don’t even think we’re gonna have cake anytime soon when this slow-poke is taking forever to cut.”

He flicks your forehead as you glare up at him.

“I could so easily throw this in your face, but I choose not to,” you stick your tongue out at him and he scoffs.

“I’d like to see you try.”

All the members groan out of annoyance.

“Oh my god they’re having a lovers quarrel again,” Jimin yawned. “Aren’t you guys sick of arguing?”

Yoongi freezes at his words. Lover’s quarrel. That was a nice way to put it.

“They’ll stop arguing when Yoongi finally-”

Taehyung was cut off as Yoongi swipes three fingers worth of frosting from the cake and lathers it all over Taehyung’s face.

“You talk too much,” Yoongi shakes his head and soon chaos descended. Cake flew in places it shouldn’t have and ended when Namjoon knocked over a glass of water, managing to break it on the floor tiles. In the end, no one got cake.

Yoongi and you were laughing amongst yourselves at the kitchen sink, washing off some of the bits that got onto your shirts.

“I’m so sorry about your cake,” you say through your chuckles. “I’ll make it up to you some time.”

Yoongi only smiles.

“Yeah, you can treat me on a date,” he replies a little too boldly. You look at him in shock, not quite processing his words.

“A date?”

He nods.

“We should go out sometime.”

You purse your lips to prevent the huge grin about to be displayed on your face.

“We should.”

—

Present

It was subtle, the way it all started. You trace over the features you drew so far, only getting to his eyes. Yoongi and you were innocent lovers for a while, keeping your trysts a secret from everyone in the company except his managers and the members. A few of your friends knew, but none of them knew BTS well enough to be all that surprised. It wasn’t all that rare to go out with a celebrity in your line of work.

You almost miss those days when he was unrecognizable. After your friends realized who he was after he hit it big globally, you felt like a secret of yours was displayed to them. Your love was supposed to be private, but his fame left very little room for privacy. You missed when you were the only one that knew of him and maybe it’s selfish to think that way, but you were past the point of being selfish.

You text back.

yeah, can't wait to see you

—

Jan. 2015

Yoongi lays you down on the couch gently. His hands caressing your sides underneath the thin material of your shirt as he pulls you in closer to his kisses. This felt different from other nights, different in that there was nothing around to stop what would come next.

He pulls away from you slightly, panting from the lack of oxygen.

“Are you sure?” he asks, drawing circles on your hip with his thumb. He was only supposed to come over to help you unpack some stuff for your new apartment and here you were, pinned on the couch and sweating from the close contact.

You nod back in response, not finding the right words to get him to continue. He pulls your shirt over your head, peppering kisses on your neck and atop your breasts. He fixates on your neck languidly, biting as he sees fits.

There was a pause as you felt him press up against you and you knew then that there was no making it to the bed. You would have your first time with him on this newly moved-in couch.

The clothes dropped to the ground as his touches get more impatient, more desperate. It all passes by like a blur and you could only remember the pleasure that came with his long fingers, the satisfaction you felt when he was inside you. The climax of it all made you realize that you loved him, truly and without regret. He holds you in his arms when you come undone, flashing a satiated smile as you look up at him. It’s like the stars were in his eyes.

“How do you feel?” you ask him, worried he was already drowsy. You didn’t want to have to sleep on the couch naked.

“Satisfied,” he says with a smile on his face.

You can’t help but swoon, his eyes fixated on you. At least for now, he was yours He wasn’t Suga, a rapper. He was Yoongi, your boyfriend.

It didn't matter to you that he was struggling to make a name for himself in this cut-throat idol industry or that he would spend countless nights cursing as one of his numerous tracks get rejected. None of that was in your mind. Only he swam through your thoughts. Only him.

“I love you,” he sighs out. He was the first to say it.

“I love you too,” you reply back and he holds you tight against him.

He’s nuzzling himself in your hair, his chest pressed up against you so his heartbeat can synch with yours. He loves this, can’t get enough of it. He catches your lips and once again you are whisked in the pleasure of it all. This is it. This is what love is.

—

Present

The piece is finally finished and you send it off to your client, hoping she doesn’t ask for revisions because you can’t handle another second of drawing his stupid face. His soft skin, his tiny moles, his gummy smile...

It's not like you hate him. It’s just... a certain contempt lingers after a breakup from a long-term relationship. It’s the type of resentment that can’t really be explained. You don’t want to see him, but you catch yourself watching his videos on Youtube. You don’t want to think about him, but you hope he thinks about you. You don’t see yourself ever getting back together with him, but you don’t have his phone number blocked.

It’s a sort of paradox you catch yourself in and you wonder if you could ever get out of it. Will Yoongi ever escape your mind?

can't wait to see u too babe

—

Aug. 2016

Yoongi hugs you from behind, his face scrunched at the nape of your neck where several marks were made from last night’s events. Your eyes stayed focus on the TV in front of you, still impressed by your own ability to afford one in your bedroom at your salary.

“BTS' SUGA drops new music video for his song and mixtape Agust D...”

The news anchor drones on and you could barely hear her through the sounds of Yoongi’s soft snores. His hold on you grew tighter as he hears his stage name from an unfamiliar voice and it makes you giggle slightly at how different the edgy music video being displayed was from the same person wrapping you in his arms so tightly.

“Babe, wake up. I have work to do,” you whisper into his hair and he only shakes his head back in response.

“No,” he mutters, pulling you into him closer. You roll your eyes, managing to pry off one of his hands as you sit up on the bed.

“Don’t you have studio stuff to do today?” you ask him, searching for a shirt to wear.

He shakes his head as his eyes start to flutter open. You both reeked of alcohol since you opened a bottle of wine last night to celebrate the release of his first solo work. He was proud of it and you were proud of him.

“Can you turn that off, I’m getting a migraine,” he whines, covering his head with a pillow. You opted to wear Yoongi’s shirt instead of your own since you couldn’t be bothered to walk to the other side of the bed to find it. You smiled at his laying figure, cooped in a fetal-like position. He was still naked, but you were with him long enough to no longer be phased by that sort of thing.

“From one bottle of wine?” you tease slightly. “I think you’re losing your touch, Agust D.”

You chuckle as he throws the pillow on top of his head towards you.

“Don’t call me that,” he pouts, “It feels like you’re making fun of me.”

You stand up from where you were, stretching out your back as you make your way to the door.

“That’s because I am,” you smirk, “You know you’re saved on my phone as Sugar?”

He gives you a glare.

“It’s Suga,” he says, attempting to add some intimidation to his voice. It doesn’t work because all you do is stick your tongue out at him.

“Whatever sugar.”

He chuckles lightly and watches the silhouette of your figure exit his view. Yoongi can’t help but mindlessly follow after you.

As you exit towards the kitchen, you can’t help but hear the television from the bedroom.

“Suga has recently been caught up in a dating scandal with Suran, the solo artist, who sang with him in a song...”

Your head snaps up from those words, your skin crawling with goosebumps. You make it into the kitchen but with a heavy heart and no appetite.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, passing by you to pour himself some water.

“Nothing,” you say, though you sounded bitter. He caught on quite quickly. You were jealous again.

Yoongi heaves out a deep sigh and sets the glass of water down. He comes over to your angry figure and gives you a soft hug, laying his head on top of yours as if to comfort you. You try to pull away but he keeps you close.

“I’ll tell them to drop the rumors, okay?,” he says, genuinely enough to make you believe him. “I don’t want us to fight so early in the morning.”

“You promise?”

He pulls away.

“I promise,” he says, brushing a hair away from your face. “Let’s not think about those rumors right now. You and me both know they’re not true.”

You were never one to forget so easily.

—

It was around 2016 when you had stopped working at Big Hit. They halted the Hip Hop Monster brand and your contract was expiring with them anyway. You went from living a kush office life to struggling freelance worker in a matter of a second. It also meant that Yoongi and you would be spending less time together. His busy schedules couldn’t permit him to stay with you longer than a few hours and his presence slowly started to disappear from his side of the bed.

It was like a sinking ship, what you had with him. The pain starts off slow, unnoticeable. You’ll still laugh and keep up appearances as time passes, but you could tell there was an ominous atmosphere that wasn’t initially there in the relationship. Your screams start to grow silent as more problems start to stack on top of each other. It’s then when you hit the iceberg. It’s then when it all starts to fall apart.

He was still good for you, you convinced yourself, even as the currents swept you out under your feet.

—

Dec. 2016

“What the fuck do you mean you’re not coming?” you yell through your phone. You were sitting on the floor of your living room, holiday decorations strewn around the apartment. He promised he’d come spend a day off of his winter promotions to be with you.

“You know how hectic the end of the year gets with promotions,” he says in quiet hushes. “I can’t do anything about it. This is my job.”

You suck in your cheeks to prevent yourself from yelling. From the sound of it, he was in public.

“Yoongi, I called out of talking to a really high-paying client,” you say through gritted teeth. “And I still came home. Why am I the only one making sacrifices?”

He sighed at the other end. He didn’t have the patience to deal with you today.

“Look, can you stop being so fucking needy. I don’t need this right now.”

He couldn’t tell from the phone call, but your heart broke at the word. Needy. He thought that you were needy.

“I’m already stressed out as it is,” he continues through the phone. “I don’t need you up my ass all the time.”

“I’m not gonna wait for you,” you reply, tears threatening to spill over. “I’m going to sleep and you’re gonna get rid of all the shit you have in my apartment. I’m sick of you, Yoongi.”

He scoffs.

“I’m sick of you too.”

Yoongi hangs up, about ready to hit the wall when Jimin comes to calm him down. Small things that were never meant to be taken seriously built up until it was ready to crash down.

When Yoongi comes at night to visit you, he sees that you’re asleep on the couch. He sits next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I’m sorry baby,” he whispers quietly. “I’ll do better.”

You nuzzled closer to him, comforted by words you forget the next day. Even when you woke up with a bad neck and Yoongi snoring onto your skin, you couldn’t find a way to stay mad at him. You knew, deep down, that some way or the other you’re gonna find yourself arguing about the same thing next week.

—

Present

Junghoon comes to pick you up. Junghoon, your boyfriend.

He’s a little uptight and too stern for his own good, but has a good heart and a knack of giving great gifts. You met him from working in the same industry, a 3D graphics designer for several video game companies. He was a new addition to your life, your relationship only about three months old.

You were warming up to him slowly, thankful for finally having a consistent presence in your life. He always made time for you, never used work as an excuse, and didn’t act cold just for the sake of acting cold. Junghoon was sweet in the way that Yoongi used to be when he wasn’t such a massive celebrity.

It was a relief to have someone like Junghoon in your life that didn’t walk in and out of your door without much of a thought to even say goodbye. Your life with him has been a tad bit dull, but you don’t mind all that much. Junghoon’s made you feel secure in ways that Yoongi couldn’t.

—

May 2017

“Your boyfriend is winning a whole ass award across the world and you’re having ramen with me?” Chaerin sighs. It’s typical for a best friend to judge the actions of the other.

“Yeah and?” you reply snarkily, swirling your chopstick around to find the perfect clump of noodles. “I’m not the top social artist according to Billboard, what’s it have to do with me?”

She rolls her eyes at you.

“I don’t know, you could at least watch him win the award?” she suggests. “The live stream is literally happening right now. Your boyfriend is making history and you don’t even care!”

You look at the clock on the restaurant wall. It was nearing 2 o’clock and your client meeting would be starting soon. You were in high demand as a graphic artist recently and as far as you were concerned, that was the only thing on your mind at the moment. You stare back into your bowl, suddenly losing your appetite.

“The apartment is lonely without him,” you admit sadly.

He bought one for himself and had you move in. ‘It’s easier to not get noticed by the tabloids,’ he convinced you. The modern sleekness of his penthouse was a nice change to your lifestyle, but you missed the comfiness of your small studio apartment. It was often too cold when he wasn’t around.

“You could watch it with me?” Chaerin suggested. “Yoongi’s probably so sad that his own girlfriend doesn’t even want to watch him win such a major award.”

You bite down on your chopstick harshly.

“Well he didn't even want me to come with him so I don’t wanna hear anymore about him from you.”

Chaerin squinted her eyes in your direction.

“Well I mean I get where he’s coming from. He’s still an idol, [Y/N],” she scolds. “It would be a massive risk to take you with him.”

You shook your head disapprovingly, pushing the bowl away from you.

“I’m not an idiot, Chae. It’s not like I was asking to be on the red carpet with him, I just wanted to be there waiting in the hotel room after the show. Two nights ago he suddenly backs out and says I shouldn’t come.”

Chaerin’s jaw dropped out of shock. That wasn’t what she was expecting at all.

“Did he say why?”

You stare down at your nails, your heart growing heavy as a long pause of silence takes place. It would be better to be honest, right? You shouldn’t have to pretend like everything’s okay when it clearly isn’t.

“He said he wants space,” you say, careful not to get choked up. “So I’m giving it to him.”

You clutch your thigh instinctively, remembering how Yoongi had brought that up with you just nights before. You two weren’t happy and that he needed to figure himself out before the relationship gets any worse. It’s just a break or whatever bullshit he spouted.

She scoffs.

“What is wrong with you two?” she asks, genuinely concerned. “You are not the type of person to take a break in a relationship.”

You stare bitterly into the reflection of your soup.

“I just don’t think I’ve been happy for a while,” you reply, taking a sip of your water that was left untouched for a better half of the night. “I don’t think he is either.”

—

Sept. 2017

The break lasted for months and you wondered if it was really even a break at all. It felt more like a break up if you were honest. He’d text once in a while and video call you when he was free but other than that it felt like he became a stranger, just another celebrity billboard you walked past on your way to a client’s workplace.

You’d draw sketches of him countlessly, in fear you’d forget how his face looked in real life and not through a low-quality screen. You etched every baby hair, every small blemish he’d hide with makeup. It was your method of not forgetting who the real Yoongi was because honestly, you didn’t know anymore. You didn’t know him.

Trrrringggg.

The sound of your doorbell could be heard all throughout your apartment. You stood up from where you sat on the bed, leaving the sketchbook of his face on the comforter. You weren’t expecting any visitors, but surely enough, Yoongi stood in front of you with a lopsided grin on his face.

“Hey.”

You let him in, not uttering a single word. He looks different now. His hair was black, thank god, but his face was a little softer than you were used to. You remember him being so paranoid about turning bald just a few years ago and here he was, no bald spots to be found. He looked healthy.

“It’s been a while,” you respond, hugging your arms close to your chest, uncomfortable that he was in your presence. It was his apartment technically, but you lived in it more than he did. He opted to stay in the dorm ever since he issued that idiotic break.

“I miss you,” he says in a lowly voice and you almost believe him. Almost.

You scoff.

“It seems like you’ve been having fun without me though,” you say through gritted teeth. “I thought you still wanted space?”

He shakes his head and brings his hand to touch your arm.

“No,” he swallows his saliva. “I miss you.”

You could feel his sincerity, but you can’t help but not trust him. He’s been viciously cold to you, but you find yourself pulling him closer anyway.

“Don’t ever do that again,” you threaten. “It’ll really be over then, Yoongi.”

He sighs into your hair. He loves you. He does. But he doesn’t know why it’s so hard to express it.

“I promise [Y/N]. I won’t leave.”

—

Aug. 2018

He buys you flowers, your favorite kind. It’s a small gesture, but it has you jumping into his arms all the same. It shows that he still cares somewhat. It’s been a while since he’s last shown it.

He holds you closely, appreciating the softness of your body and how you curl perfectly into him.

“I want to stay like this,” you say mindlessly, just relishing in his presence.

You’re not mad at him today and he’s not frustrated with you. It’s a high point in your relationship.

“Me too.”

His words are simple but it warms your heart nonetheless. Yoongi looks at you with twinkling eyes and for a moment you think that this could last forever and that it will last forever. You kiss him slowly and he reciprocates.

It reminds you of your first time, slow and careful- like you were the last person he’d ever want to hurt.

His love, although painful at times, was good to you when you needed it to be.

—

July 2019

Yoongi’s gone again. He’s on tour, as usual, and not giving you any updates. You were getting sick of it. The constant waiting, the constant insecurities that ate you up inside. You weren’t built to endure this kind of torture.

Suga. Suga. Suga.

It rolls off the tongue but it feels disgusting coming out of your mouth. His stage name, a persona. He starts to resemble that name more and more as the days go by. You hear it so much now that it no longer registers as an actual word.

You call him.

He doesn’t pick up.

Again.

No answer.

You’re about ready to throw the phone at the wall until a soft ring was heard from the small device. You take the call immediately, smiling as if you passed the hardest difficulty of a video game. The grin would soon be wiped away, though.

“Why’d you call?” he grumbles from the other line, loud music blasting in the background.

“Why weren’t you picking up?” You sound bitter. You don’t care.

“I’m out right now,” he says, exasperation laced in his voice. “I’m not in the mood to talk.”

Clearly, he just wasn’t in the mood to talk to you. Yoongi was at a party or a club or wherever he could possibly be in the streets of Shizuoka at 10 p.m.

You just wanted to chat, check on him as a good girlfriend would. He’s been complaining that you haven’t been in a while. You thought this was what he wanted- for you to care.

“I just wanted to see if you were doing okay,” you sigh. “How’d the concert go?”

“Good,” he says, clearly distracted. “Some of us snuck out of the hotel rooms to let loose for a bit.”

You nod as if he could see you.

“So you’re partying?”

You could hear him laugh at the other end, but it wasn’t from your comment. Someone else was making him laugh. Someone with a light and dainty voice, whiny as she got closer to Yoongi.

“Yeah, I guess you could call it that,” he says, clearly distracted. “Listen I’ll call you back, okay?”

You feel a lump stuck in your throat. There are no words left to say. The foreign girl on the other end giggled harder at whatever Yoongi was saying and it felt like you were invading their privacy- as if she was his girlfriend and you were nothing. You hung up, your mouth feeling dry as the tears poured down.

You see a text from Yoongi just a few seconds into your wallowing. You sniffle as you read it.

don’t misunderstand. nothing’s happening rn i'm just having a bit of fun.

This time you really threw your phone at the wall.

You go to your iPad that’s sitting untouched on your desk. You open your drawing app and just let the anger in the stylus take you from there. You draw a rough sketch of a couple on the edge of a beachside cliff. The woman seems to be falling into the water as if she was pushed. The guy’s hand reaches out to her, but you can’t really tell if he was trying to grab her or if he was the one that let her go in the first place.

As the tears spilled onto the cool surface of the iPad, you sob harder. Nothing could be fixed and everything still felt broken. It was meaningless, sleeping in his bed and wearing his clothes when he was all the way in Japan snuggling up to girls that were probably much prettier and much more willing to understand his lifestyle.

You look around the penthouse he had bought for the two of you, beautiful wide panel windows and modern furniture. It mostly looks empty, everything nice and tidy as if no one lived here. It had such a stark contrast to that of his old life when he shared rooms with other members and had no place to really put his keyboard except the studio. You smiled at the memory of you all hovering around the small coffee table in the cramped living room eating ramen.

Maybe it was your fault for falling behind, for letting the world around you build up and not follow in Yoongi’s tracks.

—

Present

You guess it was then when the relationship had passed a point of no return. When everything that felt right had started to feel incredibly wrong. You tolerated his presence rather than bask in it. You heard him speak but couldn’t bother to listen. Maybe you were petty, but more than anything you were angry.

You were angry that he could break you that badly and you would still forgive him for it.

You stare over at Junghoon who’s cooking you up something on the stove. This is what you needed.

—

Nov. 2019

Yoongi was back from some big-name award show that you didn’t watch. You heard he won Artist of the Year or whatever, the accolades that he’s collected no longer having meaning as the days pass. Why be happy for him when he himself showed no signs of excitement? This was routine. He expected the awards at this point.

You walked towards him. Yoongi looked angry, though you have no idea why.

“Hey, I made dinner to celebrate,” you tell him. Yoongi’s sitting on the couch, scrolling through the congratulatory messages he received from other industry stars. He looked like he needed to get something off his chest.

“I’m not hungry,” he mutters. “Just leave it.”

“Are you sure?”

He scoffs. It was a simple question.

“Not in the mood.”

You give him a pointed look and sit next to him.

“Why are you never in the mood for anything?” you ask him. “It’s just food Yoongi. I just want to eat with you.”

You don’t see it properly but he rolls his eyes.

“Just drop it okay? Today’s a good day, I don’t need you to ruin it.”

You suck in your cheeks.

“Ruin?”

Yoongi sighs heavily.

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he starts, facing you. “Why do you have to be so dramatic over everything.”

You grit your teeth.

“Dramatic?” your voice quivers. “I didn’t know feeling hurt was being dramatic.”

His gaze softens and he touches your arm lightly.

“Sorry, I didn't mean it like that.”

You shake your head, feeling your eyes dampen at his words.

“I hate your apologies, Yoongi,” you say in a hushed tone. “They don’t mean anything anymore.”

He’s shocked, not really sure how to respond. You were never one to confront him, especially when he was angry. Instead, he holds your hand softly. He was terrible at comforting people.

“Yoongi are you really sorry?” you ask abruptly. It was a question you’ve been meaning to ask for years now.

His grip on you tightened and you can’t quite read his expression, but you can tell that it’s not a positive response. He looks conflicted and he shouldn’t have to be if he really was. You force him to let go of you.

“I am,” he says, knowing he answered a little too late for his words to not seem suspicious.

“I don’t think you are,” you reply sadly. “You say sorry more than you-”

say I love you.

He doesn’t let you finish the sentence because he knows. He knows what you’re trying to say.

“I am,” he says with more sincerity, but he looks at you with an unreadable expression. “I just don’t think it’s enough at this point.”

“What’s not enough?”

You were confused. Is he still talking about whether he's apologetic or not? Or is it something entirely different?

“I do love you,” he says with a certain conviction in his voice, “and I always will, but it feels like nothing’s working out.”

Yoongi doesn’t look at you and focuses on the leather of the fancy couch. He doesn’t say anything but you know what this means. He’s about to stand up, but you grab onto his wrist.

“This is your apartment,” you say before he could say anything to break your heart even further. “I’ll leave.”

“[Y/N], no,” he says. “You don’t have anywhere else to go. I’m just gonna stay over at the dorm. I just...”

Your eyes get blurry from the tears. Even now it felt like he was looking down at you. Nowhere to go. It was like he pitied you.

“...need to go clear my mind,” he finishes the sentence, standing up to grab his coat.

You shake your head and stand in front of him. He’s usually like this. A coward. A bumbling fool who would rather avoid problems than face them head on.

“I need you to stay, Yoongi,” you cry out. “I need you to actually stay for once and comfort me.”

He looks at you, mouth open but no words come out. He smiles sadly and walks toward you, kissing your cheek.

“I don’t think I can do that anymore, [Y/N],” he says and you watch him leave as easily as he walked in.

It’s not like he ever comforted you in the first place.

—

The break up happened silently over a late-night phone call a few days after he disappeared on you. You packed up your things, stayed over at Chaerin’s house, and braced yourself for what was to come. It should’ve happened sooner, you admit, but your heart still sinks when he speaks.

“I just don’t think either of us is willing to try anymore,” he says solemnly. “We’ve been on and off for the past few years and I don’t think it’s healthy for either of us to continue.”

You agree, just wanting the call to end quickly so you wouldn’t have to hear his voice any longer. It hurt to have to listen to him rationalize breaking your heart.

“I don’t think we should be together anymore, [Y/N],” he says, not even a tiny bit choked up. “I think we’ve... outgrown each other.”

You knew what Yoongi really meant. He’s outgrown you.

“I think so too,” you say rigidly. Short and simple. You left nothing to be desired. “Let’s break up.”

Yoongi looks at his phone, slightly disappointed. He wished you would fight back, maybe rekindle something in him that he’s lost over the years. Yet you were silent on the line and he just had to accept it- that there was nothing left to be saved.

“Take care, okay?” he says softly because in the end he still cares- he just doesn’t want to anymore.

“I will,” you reply, ultimately hanging up the phone. You collapse onto a bed unfamiliar to you. Yoongi would no longer sleep beside you, no longer reach over to hug your side and whisper sweet nothings in your ear. He was gone and you had to accept that maybe he was never yours in the first place.

His last words replay in your mind.

Take care.

That was the most concern he’s ever shown you in the past few weeks. You almost scoff at the absurdity of it all. You don’t notice how truly broken you were until the tears start streaming down your face. You see the image of him through blurry eyes and you wonder how you could let Yoongi leave such a permanent scar on your heart.

—

Present

“Do you like your eggs runny or no?”

Junghoon asks as you approach his figure. You hug him from behind and smile at his warmth. Safe.

“Just a little runny,” you reply.

He smiles and nods, turning off the heat and grabbing some seasoning from your cupboard. You detach yourself from him when you realized what he was grabbing.

“Babe that’s not salt. That’s-”

Sugar.

You stop yourself from saying it and Junghoon looks at you with concern. He chuckles at your stoic state and ruffles your hair.

“Cat got your tongue or what?” he asks, grabbing the right container this time. “Maybe I should’ve asked if you like your eggs sweet instead, huh?”

“I’ve never tried that combination before,” you say teasingly. “Why don’t you test it out for us.”

He clicks his tongue at you and splashes some salt on your face.

“I’ll pour sugar all over you if that’s what you really want.”

You laugh half-heartedly. A simple word shouldn’t affect you this much but you find yourself get more teary-eyed as it repeats in your head. It wasn’t fair to Junghoon that you were thinking of your ex in his presence. It wasn’t fair to you either.

You feel a vibration from your pocket and you pull it out to serve as a distraction from your wallowing thoughts. It’s a text.

From Sugar.

—

A/N: This was so hard to write because my mind has just been empty these days but I’m so glad it’s done now >_< Thank you to @minyoongail for requesting this story. I’ve been bumping to the Taylor Swift song now because of this commissions T^T I recommend you all to listen to it. I tried to write this in a different style from my other works so I hope this is still readable for you all LOL

I’m closing commissions temporarily to focus on the ones I have now and to also start writing my own stuff. Let me know how you feel about this, I appreciate all types of comments and criticisms <3 Look forward to Part 2!

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tintentrinkerin · 4 years

Text

adelphopoiesis

Author: tintentrinkerin

Title: adelphopoiesis

Requested by: @schaefchenherde

Header by: @wincestismyheart

Divider by: @firefly-graphics

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Demon!Dean x Sam

Warnings: Blood and Gore, Sam Drinks Dean’s Demon Blood, Anal Sex, Not Canon Compliant

Content: Chasing your baby brother around the bunker with a hammer is fun, right? But what if you tickle his thing for blood?

Read here or on AO3

Dean’s most effective weapon is not the hammer he destroyed the door with. The hammer that’s stuck in the wall now beside Sam’s head. It’s not his physical strength, radiating like utter heat from his body, showing in the tension of his neck, the firm grimace of his mouth, his pretty mouth. It’s not the First Blade. A blade powerful enough to kill anything and anyone, but Dean himself.

Sam’s only weapon is a lousy knife. A demon knife, that will barely leave a scratch on a Knight of Hell.

“It’s all you”, Dean says, leaning in the knife, leaning into Sam’s half hearted attack.

The way Dean looks at his brother, it’s tearing Sam apart in so many ways. Ways he thought he’d buried under guilt and hunts and lore and his shame. Sam gives in and takes the knife away, he will regret it so bitterly, he knows. Of course he knows. He can’t even lay a single finger on Dean. The demon in front of him wears the face of his brother but there is nothing left of his soft side for Sam. His voice, how he calls Sam, how he says Sammy, the hair, the determined look, the tongue against his teeth. Like he’s a predator and Sam’s the prey.

Dean’s eyes turn black.

It’s a whooshing sound and it darts Sam’s ears the moment he thought he’d surrender and then, the First Blade, fast as an arrow lands in Dean’s hand. There is not a blink for Sam to react before Dean looks at him with a triumphant smirk. The knife glides through Dean’s smooth skin of his throat like it’s warm butter. Blood spills.

Blood

Spills

Blood is Dean's most effective weapon.

Its smell is so familiar, so luring. So intimate and so…powerful. Sam turns and runs. He needs to go. He needs to get away.

“Oh Sammy, baby brother, don’t run away!”, Dean mocks.

Shit, he’s right behind Sam and Sam’s judgement clouds already. He isn’t even fast. It feels like running through molasses. The air feels thick and strong, pressing Sam down, and the smell of iron and lust and Dean, oh my God, it’s Dean’s blood! - He needs to get away! Sam manages to worm through the destroyed door to the electrical room, but he catches several splinters. Some even bite his face and he gets stuck with the cast of his elbow. Spraining the right elbow, why, Sam, why did that happen? Everything’s against him.

Memories of Ruby appear in his head. Of the smell, the taste, her body, the sex. The grunting and the mind blowing orgasm, the banging against walls everywhere they went. The power, the trip. His increasing power, a stimulant better than any human known drug. It resonates all within him with the odor of Dean’s musk and his blood. He can smell its potential, its strong taste. Sam even imagines how it would make him feel. Running away never felt so hard like right now. He remembers the withdrawal and the pain behind his eyes blinds him as he trips in the hallway and tumbles against a wall. Stinging pain in his arm, in his head and his legs feel heavy. It’s like he has Dean’s breath in his neck all this time. Even though he can’t hear him come close at all. It sounds like Dean is far away, in another world.

“Come on, Sammy, I know you want a sip of it. Makes you all giddy, doesn't it? I can smell you. All of you.”

Sam yells something, but he can’t even make out what he says.

“Keep runnin’ if you must, but you know I gotta find you sooner or later. It’s my home, too!”

The alarm is blaring again and Sam has no idea how far he can run. There won’t be any walls that might hold Dean back. He’s regaining strength, the human blood wears off. Even that Sam can smell. How much stronger Dean gets with every minute.

“I taste delicious, Sammy. Just fuckin’ delicious.”

Oh, yes, Sam bets he does, that’s exactly why he needs to keep running. The smell gets even more intense now and Sam wonders how much Dean can cut himself up with the First Blade. He should’ve given the damn thing to Crowley when he had the chance to do so.

“Stay away”, he croaks.

There’s another hallway, one leading deep into the intestines of the Forbidden Bunker, how Dean and him called it jokingly, when they discovered it. An area full of locked doors made of the weirdest materials. Only one chance is left for Sam, when he finds that one door he unlocked in these months without Dean. He had learned a lot about witchcraft since Dean left this note on his bed, when he left Sam for Crowley and a life as a demon. When the only way to save himself from Dean was to hide himself in a panic room again, hallucinate again, he would have to do it. He rather sees Lucifer again, Mary, Bobby, all the victims they couldn’t save than to fall for Dean’s lure. Drink his own brother’s blood. This was perverted, disgusting, twisted. Even for them. The monster hunters, the monster fuckers, the monsters themselves.

“The longer you run, the harder I bleed, brother!”

Sam tries every door on the way, but none opens. Sam’s eyes sting from the smell. What the hell is Dean doing? Covering the walls in blood? That would be insane. Even Dean would faint at one point. It must be impossible to drain a body so much before it dies. Dean isn’t possessing a body, he still has his own, whatever that means for him and his physis then. Sam trips again, he falls, on his right arm of course. He tears up from the pain that fills his chest, his arm, his shoulder. He can’t survive that long if doesn’t find a hide-out.

It seems to be near, because Sam still can read the signs on the doors and when he finds room 616, he pushes the door open with a long and agonizing cry and slams it shut. It’s the door he unlocked already, a room, bleak as an empty tomb. Cold and pitchblack, there’s no electrical light, just candles, but Sam won’t be able to find them. He can just hide in here, pressed against a wall, praying to Castiel, to Hannah. He even cries for Crowley inside, someone needs to help him.

Footsteps.

The smell of blood. The First Blade scraping on the tiles, Sam knows it’s that.

“Gotcha! I really thought you’d be a bit cleverer than that. Where’s the fun when you cage yourself like a mouse?”

The door bursts open, way too easily. None of the sigils and runes seem to be an obstacle for Dean. And when light shines in the room and Sam can see not only Dean’s silhouette but also his face, he knows. Dean is covered in his own blood. His face, his slit throat, still pumping blood in long and rhythmic spurts from the wound. His arms are drenched in blood and now, with a biting smile, Dean looks at Sam and the Blade carves an S in Dean’s arm.

“Come here, Sammy. Come to your big bro and lemme get you something real good

The stench is so intense now that Sam first vomits in violent jerks and then faints. The last thing he sees before the world turns completely black is Dean’s triumphant, sweet smile and his eyes. His normal green eyes.

When Sam awakes again, he is tied up. Bound to a chair. They’re in the dungeon again, how did Sam come here? His head aches like it’s been run over by a stampede of bulls and his mouth tastes like vomit and blood. He tenses immediately as he’s present enough to realize his situation. Dean has tied him up here, and now he’s sitting on the desk in one corner, right beside the blood donor box that Sam got from the hospital. His legs swing and he hums a strange melody.

“Oh, look who’s up.”

Dean jumps on his feet. Sam can see the First Blade, the damn Blade, resting on the table. Then Dean takes the syringes of human blood and starts spilling them.

“You won’t need them anymore, Sammy. I think I won our little chase.”

“Dean, don’t do that… please. I can still…”

Dean hisses. His eyes turn black.

“You can still what, brother dearest? I already told you. I am what I am now, I am free. I’m finally free. Of humanity. I’m strong now. Efficient. Deadly.”

Sam winces when he moves in the ties. The ropes cut in his flesh and Dean removed the sling on his arm. His elbow hurts so much, it’s taking his words away.

“You were deadly before already. The Mark made you powerful.”

“But guess what, I’m even better now. Dean Winchester 2.0 - I’m all in for my upgrade. You see it as a bad thing, but what I see is … potential. Chances. Oh Sammy, I can conquer the world. Hell. Heaven. You really want the boring Dean back, huh?”

Sam shakes his head but that makes him feel dizzy, he stops.

“I want my brother back. The brother I loved.”

Dean’s black eyes target Sam like he’s prey again and he hates being looked at like this. It makes him feel less human, less Dean’s brother.

“I am your brother. Nothing ever changed that. But I told you to stay away from me, I told you not to look for me. But you did. You plotted against me, with Crowley, with Cas. You tied me up in this chair, you tortured me with human blood. Against my will. For someone who’s all over the place with autonomy and respecting boundaries you violated mine just perfectly.”

Sam squirms. The problem is that Dean is right. But Sam did it for the greater cause, didn’t he? Dean becoming human again was the best for everyone!

“You make me sound like the bad guy here, that’s not fair”, Sam mutters.

Dean laughs and it’s a deep, rough laugh that makes Sam’s skin crawl. This is so much Dean, even darker than usual. And it shakes Sam to the core.

“Good, bad… Who cares. Human categories, bullshit. Nothing’s fair, Sam.”

“I need something to drink”, Sam says faintly now.

He won’t make Dean untie him, that’s for sure, but maybe Cas will come to the rescue soon, he can maybe delay things. Also he needs to get rid of the taste of old blood in his mouth. Dean doesn’t reek of his blood that bad anymore, Sam is very much aware of the pink line across Dean’s throat. A scar. The blade will cause scars. Or at least the weapon delays even Dean’s healing.

Dean smiles.

“Sure. But why waste water on you when I kill you anyway?”

Sam’s heart sinks.

“Will you?”

Dean shrugs as if he doesn’t give a shit at all.

“Thinking about it. But you’re my brother, as you keep on reminding me. Maybe I should give you a chance to redeem yourself in my eyes and let you live?”

“And how would you do that?”, Sam asks, winding in his ties.

Dean goes away. Doesn’t say another word. Sam is stunned and damn, holy shit, he’s afraid. Dean will kill him. But what is it with the possibility of letting him live?

The smell of iron. Like a perfume, soft and silky. No. No no no.

“Dean? Dean!”, Sam cries and fights the restraints harder.

He did it again. He slit his fucking throat, Sam knows it. And this time, he won’t be able to run, he won’t be able to fight back. He’s tied up, he’s in pain, he’s weak. It’s not like with the other hunters who wanted to force him to drink demon blood. He could fight them off, but now?

Emaciated. Sick. Depressed. A broken arm. Hungry. Tied up. The addiction is pulsating through his veins, giving him the chills. It’s hot and cold at the same time. Like crackling in the air, the heavy scent of blood and Dean, he can only say no.

Dean won’t take a no, why should he? He’s a Knight of Hell. Sam is human. His brother is back, his throat cut deep enough to see the structures of muscles, veins, nerves, his trachea, the pulsing blood. Sam vomits all over his shirt, but there’s not much left except bitter, yellow gall.

“You’re sick, huh?”, Dean coos in a voice like he did when Sam was younger. It’s meant for comfort but now it just feels like mockery and Sam wonders how he deserves to see his brother slit his throat, twice, just to seduce Sam to drink it. It's so fucked up. It’s low, even for lean, mean Dean. Human Dean would’ve never provoked Sam’s demon blood addiction.

Sam nuzzles against the hand that’s stroking his face, his eyes squeezed shut. His lips tremble.

“Let me make you feel better, don’t pull away, Sammy…”

Sam cries out and some ugly big tears fall down his face. Is it so easy to break? He’s gone through so much pain already, through torture, rape, withdrawal. He was betrayed by everyone he loved, especially Dean. Dean’s hand is warm, but his skin feels like marble when Sam leans in, rubs his face in the palm of Dean’s hand. Is this still his brother? Is there any humanity left?

But what would that change? They’re here now. In a bunker soaked with demon blood, Sam is tied up, Dean reigns.

“Hush, hush”, Dean purrs, both of his hands holding Sam’s bobbing head. “It’s gonna be alright… Sammy, just give in. There will be no more pain, just us. You and me, against the world. Like it used to be.”

Sam opens his eyes but all he sees is blurry and red, it stinks of iron and vomit and Dean’s black eyes…

“I wanna see your normal eyes”, is all Sam can say right now.

A smirk.

“Anything for you, Sammy.”

And Dean’s eyes flash back to green and Sam can have the illusion of his brother just for a moment longer. Thick dark blood is pulsing out of Dean’s cut on his throat.

“It looks disgusting, Dee.”

Dean only laughs.

“It’s not supposed to be beautiful.”

Dean cups his hand before the dripping wound, collects a tiny lake of blood in his hand and then, gently presses his blood covered hand against Sam’s lips.

The world turns upside down. Sam feels the spinning, the spinning, the spinning!

The taste makes him want to barf, violently, but the old creature, the blood sucking monster was waiting patiently beneath the surface. Patient but greedy. Now it’s unleashed it bursts out and the first drops, he swallows. His lips limp and curled in utter disgust, but now, oh now, there’s a jolt running through his body, he sits straight up, first ties grinding, the ropes won’t last. The shackles won’t last.

“Come on, sweet baby boy, you want more…” Dean sings, eyes black as the night.

And slowly, very slowly and enjoying, Sam’s lips brush Dean’s hand, collect the blood, a tongue, pink, hot sneaks out, licks the offered hand.

The ropes break. The pain in Sam’s arm fades. It’s a movement even Dean didn’t see coming when Sam bursts out of all restraints he put on him and grips Dean’s hand tight, as tight as possible and sucks three of Dean’s fingers dry.

The Knight of Hell rejoices, pulls Sam close, closer than they’ve been for a very long time.

“That’s it, Sammy, yes, that’s it, let me take care of you… such a greedy boy…”

Dean’s voice is distant to Sam, distorted and hollow, he remembers their youth, the motel rooms, the flickering lights, the old tv, how Dean smelled of whiskey and beer. John’s passed out in an armchair, stained in blood, piss and vomit.

He remembers Dean’s care. The kisses at night, the stealthy handjobs in the shower, how Dean ‘taught’ him how people do it.

Make love.

Sam was twelve. Dean was sixteen. And he was a grower.

A slut.

All of this drenched in velvety red tint.

The ritual.

“Let me take care of you, Sammy…”

“I love you, Dee.”

“Never tell anyone.”

And Sam never had told anyone (but Lucifer knew - he knew everything) and deep down, buried in his mind, these feelings were in peaceful slumber, violently dragged across the floor now, kicking and crying,

A W A K E

Sam is awake.

He remembers the awkward, painful, dry fuck in the back of the Impala after they killed the Wendigo, so long ago, and how they never ever said a word.

Spit is shitty lube.

So is blood.

It roars. The monster roars in Sam’s chest. It’s in agony, it’s in joy, it’s free!

And Sam is just a puppet, always been nothing more than a puppet. He watches himself suck Dean’s fingers, then sticking his own fingers in the wound, stir it, stir Dean’s insides. The gurgling, the retching. Dean’s satisfied moans, his hands all over Sam’s now healed body.

“Yes, Sammy, let it all out, come on… Let it all out.”

Sam only hisses. This blood, Dean’s blood, the blood of a demon, of a Knight. It’s so much more potent than Ruby’s or any other demon’s he’s ever drank and tasted. Dean is delicious. Demon tend to taste like rotting meat, titan arum aroma.

But Dean tastes of all the good things. Dahlia, petrichor, amber. His musk makes Sam’s blood boil and his pants bulge.

“Sammy.”

“Dean”, is the first thing New Sam says.

What Monster Sam says. His voice sounds low, rough, barely in control. His body is shaking, too much force is withhold now.

“Brother.”

The wound on Dean’s throat is closing up again already, the healing ability is really incredible. Sam will bite it open very, very soon, but first…

Dean doesn’t protest, he doesn’t fight back at all when Sam slams him down to the ground like he weighs nothing. There’s the crunchy sound of maybe, bones breaking, or just getting sprained, but even that, Dean will heal in no time. Dean lies on his stomach, attempts to get up.

“Sammy-”

“Sammy is not here right now.”

There’s no surprise, no scare in Dean’s voice. Sam stomps his bare foot in Dean’s back and Dean stays, doesn’t even breathe. The adrenaline rush in Sam’s ears makes him deaf for most other things and seeing demon Dean down on his stomach, defeated so easily, it’s almost an insult. Sam crouches down, one foot still on Dean’s back, pressing him down.

“You surrender?”, Sam asks, eyebrows raise.

“I didn’t mean to fight you at all.”

Dean chuckles, his voice raspy

Sam drags Dean on all fours, rips apart his shirt (the pretty red shirt, ruined with blood anyway) and Jeans and when he holds Dean’s hips, bends over and bites Dean’s neck, Dean hisses “Come on, Sammy, that’s it.”

That’s it.

Sam tears apart skin, Dean’s blood gushes in Sam’s mouth, warm and silky, smooth and delicious.

“Is that what you wanted?”, Sam says in a breathless moment, before he starts sucking the wound dry, the bleeding will stop soon, way too soon for Sam to be satisfied.

Dean growls deeply, pushes against Sam. Pleading. Sam pushes two fingers inside Dean, but feels very quickly, Dean doesn’t need it. He doesn’t want it. He needs Sam. He rips off his jeans, down to his knees and when that’s not giving him enough space, he just tears it to shreds completely. Dean’s ass is perfect. Round, juicy, firm. When he gives it a slap - a hard one - he enjoys the noise Dean makes. And then he thrusts completely inside, without hesitation. No foreplay. No gentle feeling ahead and preparing Dean’s wonderfully tight and delicious ass. He feels amazing, hot, tight, smooth. Dean hands grip Sam’s wrists tight while he fucks into him, raw, without anything to soothe the pain, make it easier, make Dean nice, slick and wet. But he doesn’t complain at all.

“That’s it”, Dean chants, in his low, low “Let’s finish this game” voice. That’s it, over and over.

This is no sex Sam would ever have if he was in his right mind. Covered in his own vomit, Dean’s blood, on the cold floor. Not that he has fucked any guy after he fled off to Stanford anyway. Dean is all he knows. He only knows what Dean taught him about fucking ass.

Dean starts getting slippery with his own blood, Sam’s blood infused spit and finally, cum. Sam loses the feeling of time and space, all he can do is fuck Dean until one of them passes out, and if Dean passed out, Sam would continue anyway.

The adrenaline rush plummets too early for Sam’s taste, the haze clears up and he’s getting aware of his ripped off clothes, the shreds of Dean’s. The fluids, the smell, the feeling. Crust everywhere. Dean is still on his knees, head sunken on the floor, his arms stretched out, breathing heavily. There’s no sign that he’s in pain. But Dean’s a demon, right? He will be fine.

Sam drags him up, and the cocky smile, the perfect hair, it’s all gone. Dean looks like he’s had the same otherworldly experience. It’s a sight that makes Sam chuckle.

“What are you laughing at?”, Dean asks, coming on his feet, gently swaying, but finally his wounds are closing up.

“You threatened to rip my throat out. With your teeth.”

“Not there yet, Sammy. Not yet.”

The situation is unreal, Sam feels unreal. He knows he will never be the same. Something’s broken inside him, crumbled - yet ready to expand again, into unknown territory.

He doesn’t remember the coercion, Dean’s betrayal - or was it Dean’s way of deliberating Sam?

Sam, leaning on the table, watches Dean come close and he leans in, a hand in Sam’s hair, gently pulling. Their kiss isn’t gentle, nothing will be gentle for a while. Teeth clash, the table scrapes along the floor and the throbbing of Dean’s pulse makes Sam rise up again. Dean bites Sam’s neck, sharp pain - and Dean drinks. The feeling is satisfying and roughening Sam up at the same time. He pulls his Knight close, closer, grabs him and bends him over the table, both still bleeding, Dean high from Sam’s blood.

“For a Knight of Hell, you’re very pliant”, Sam growls in Dean’s ear.

Dean chuckles.

“I just bend the knee to my King.”

Sam frowns.

“What do you mean?”

Dean hikes up and drags Sam to the mirror in the Dungeon.

“Take a look”, Dean hums, rich and satisfied in tone, “acknowledge who you are.”

Breathe in. Breathe out. First, Sam’s mossy eyes just look glassy, clear, beaming with desire for Dean.

Then he draws in his breath with a sharp hiss.

“You got your daddy’s eyes, Sammy.”

Sam’s eyes turned yellow.

#wincest #dean x sam #samdean #deansam #demon!dean #sin is sinning #tw:blood #tw:gore #tw:addiction #kink:blood #bottom!dean #powerful!sam #demon blood!sam #yellow eyes!sam #boyking!sam #tw:smut #tw:violence #tw:knives

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