#like i feel like they just remembered that its something they could do

[always-just-red]

Hii! I've seen some Pregnancy scenario with LaD's men, but I have this HC-- personally for Sylus. That when fem!reader got pregnant, he didn't really understand how the Pregnancy hormones work, until he experienced one and he got confused how he should act or react because it's feels like he's walking on landime, one wrong move/word, she'd throwing tantrum or being sulky at him

I've heard from my Friend who got pregnant before, when she craving something and her Husband showing any form that he can't fulfill what she's craves, she felt her heart broken, and she'd sulk and acted as if he just cheated on her. The problem is, she always craved something that didn't even exist at that moment😂, she's craving certain type of Mango while it's not even that Mango season, so nobody selling it. He literally being desperate to negotiate with her cravings

So... Can I request a scenario smiliar like that? It doesn't have to be mango, or any foods. Just... how Pregnancy hormones or Cravings could make Sylus got frustated lol

Aaaaa anon this is adorable, thank you! We love making Sylus suffer in cute and harmless ways. He's always asking for trouble, so let's give him some! 😌💅

Something Sweet

Sylus x Reader 🩸

Summary: Sylus knows how to get what he wants. Getting what you want might be a little more tricky...

Genre: fluff!

Warnings/Additional tags: female!reader, IMPLIED pregnant!reader (pregnancy not actually mentioned or described- just hormones being hormones ✌), established relationship, canon pet names, a lil bit of roleplay because Sylus refuses to leave his Mystic Adventure era

| Word count: 2.1k | Masterlist |

Disclaimer: Characters belong to Love and Deepspace. All work is my own, so please don't repost or plagiarise!

“Sy, d’you know what I’m craving right now?”

“Always, sweetie.” Sylus doesn’t look up from his book. “Not now, though. I’m tired.”

Morning sunlight streams through the gaps in your living room curtains, casting pale yellow shapes over the floor. A shard of it has been inching over the sofa towards Sylus, the sharp edge now grazing the side of his face. He shifts, ever so slightly, away from its touch. His eyes are open but heavy.

“No,” you scold, leaning forwards to swat at him with your book. “That’s not what I meant, you narcissist.”

He chuckles with his usual low timbre— his gaze still not lifting— and the sound is deeper for how close he is to sleep. He wants to give in to it, you can tell. When he turns a page, the movement is languid, soft. You’re losing him.

“Sy,” you say again, then with more of a whine: “Sylus.”

His eyes flutter closed as he draws in a deep breath. His hand raises, his fingers stretching to pull his reading glasses from his face. They’re set down on the arm of the chair beside him, along with the book, and he turns to you with a smile. “What are you craving, sweetie?”

You rest your book on your stomach. Your legs are stretched out over Sylus’s lap, and his hand finds one of your feet, massaging an ache from it as you begin your speech. “Do you remember that café we used to go to? The one we found when it started raining in the park that day? We didn’t think it was open, but then the owner knocked on the window and said we could—”

“Yeah?” His hand moves to your other foot.

“Well, they make these—”

“Macarons.”

“You remember?”

His smile widens like he remembers vividly. “Kitten, how could I forget? I’m still jealous of that sweet little treat. You’ve never made that face for me, and believe me—” he wiggles one of your toes— “I’ve tried.”

That had been one of the only times you’d truly caught him off-guard, back when your feelings for one another were unnamed and uncharted. The rain had been drumming against the café window, and you’d heaved Sylus’s damp coat from your shoulders— giggled at the raised eyebrow and the sarcastic ‘…thanks’ he’d given in turn. One hot drink later, you were lifting a pastel pink macaron to your lips, taking a delicate bite and failing to stifle a tiny, almost euphoric moan.

You remember realising yourself: blushing profusely and expecting some remark, some ridicule, but none ever came. Sylus’s eyes were wide, dark, fixed upon your still parted mouth.

After a few of the longest seconds of your life, he’d dragged the plate with the rest of the macarons away from you and muttered something about how you had better not do that again.

“They’re still the sweetest things I’ve ever tasted,” you tease now, just as you’d wrestled him for that plate back then, set on eating every last macaron.

He makes a hmph as he idly runs a finger over the part of your foot he knows is ticklish. His expression is distinctly grumpy, but it falters as you laugh and try to writhe away from him.

You’re quickly out of breath. “Sylus?”

“Mmm?”

He glances up at you and you smile sweetly, head tilting. “Please?”

His coat on a rainy day. The entire plate of macarons in the end; he’s never been very good at denying you anything. For the first time since you’d stirred him from his book, however, he appears genuinely regretful. “You’re forgetting something, sweetie,” he murmurs gently. “Why did we stop going to that café, hmm?”

You shrug.

“It closed, kitten,” he sighs. “Months ago.”

“What?”

Not only did you already know that— you actually visited the café on its final day. The owner was telling you stories: he was moving somewhere warmer, closer to family, and he needed all the funds he could get. Sylus had snuck an obscene amount of money into the man’s tip jar whilst you acted as a distraction. You both had fond memories of that place; it was nice to make one more.   

It's all coming back to you and you’re struck by a wave of nostalgia. You want to go back there. You can’t go back there. It doesn’t exist anymore, and you’ll never taste sweetness like that again.

Your mouth has gone dry.

“Sweetie?” Sylus prompts, because he notices you’re far away. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah,” your voice wobbles, “I just really wanted… I mean, I really needed one of those—”

“… Macarons?” he finishes for you.

You burst into tears, and one day, you’ll tally this as another time you took the man by surprise. His face drops instantly— lost, for a moment— before he slides your legs from his lap, allowing him to lean closer. “No, no, no,” he coos, “don’t cry, kitten, please. I didn’t mean to… well, I didn’t realise…”

He doesn’t know what to say, and he always knows what to say. He set you off with a single word and now he’s stuttering like sentences are all possible landmines. He tries his luck again, putting a foot forward: “Listen to me. I’ll go to the store. Would that be alright? Or perhaps there’s another café that could—”

You explode: sobbing even more viscerally. Your whole body shakes with it.

Sylus has frozen. He watches on helplessly as you cry, blabbering about the macarons you can’t have and the café you can’t return to. Across the room, even Mephisto has hunched down on his perch, though he issues a few, spirited squawks, maybe in solidarity with your breakdown, or maybe in protest of it.

It’s like a catalyst. You cry more: burying your face in your hands because what the hell is wrong with you? It’s not a big deal. It’s not a big deal, so why do you feel sick? And then there’s Sylus— your Sylus, devoted and adoring— and here you are, punishing him for something beyond his control.

You look up from your hands, desperate to apologise, but he’s gone. More shards of sunlight paint his empty seat and catch all that’s left of him: a few crow feathers, glistening like onyx. Mephisto is gone too, and the room is quiet, save for you snivelling and feeling sorry for yourself.

“Sylus?” you call out into the empty morning.

It isn’t his fault, not really. You wouldn’t want to be around you, either.

…

Something brushes over your cheek, and your tired eyes open.

The sun has ebbed back behind the curtains and the ceiling light has taken its place, casting artificial highlights over everything in reach: the coffee table, the closed-up flowers at its centre and a mug of tea that’s gone cold. Sylus is in front of you too, backlit and soft like a daydream, and he—

He left you.

“Sy?” you whisper warily, because the context is coming back to you slowly, piece by piece.

“Hey,” he coaxes, voice as honeyed as whatever’s turned the air sweet.

You blink, rubbing sleep from your eyes and relishing the warmth of his hand on your face. Then you slap his shoulder. “Hey, really? That’s all you’ve got— hey?”

He’s kneeling for you— on the floor, beside the couch— so you can meet his eyes. He settles his chin thoughtfully on the edge of the seat, his nose almost touching yours. “What would you prefer, sweetie?” His lips are close to yours too. “Good evening, my beloved? Greetings, my queen?”

“How about sorry?” you snap, because he isn’t cute and he isn’t charming.

He pouts. “Why sorry?”

“Because you left, Sylus!�� You sit up straighter, and your phone tumbles out of your lap. Its screen is still lit-up from a few hours ago, showcasing a very one-sided conversation and a rant you never actually sent, because it’s still in the text box.

You vaguely recall writing it, so you try to snatch the phone from Sylus’s hand as he plucks it from the floor. He’s more alert than you. More co-ordinated. He keeps it out of your grasp as he reads the unsent message, an eyebrow raising.

It was a lot of things— colourful, creative— not entirely tasteful. “My, my, your highness,” he tuts, “so this is the treatment your valiant knight receives for undertaking your quest?”

“You’re not valiant,” you rebuke, and you manage to wrestle your phone from him. “You’re—”

“A heartless prick,” he finishes casually, quoting your message with a chuckle. He takes your free hand and kisses the back of it, refusing to let you pull away. “And whose fault is that, I wonder?”

“You can have your heart back.”

“Nope. You’re stuck with it, sweetie. With me, too. Now—” he sits back on his knees— “would you please ask me about my quest?”

The analogy is lost on you. You sit fully up, looking down at him. “What quest, oh valiant knight?”

His lips form a smirk; he just loves when you play along. “Close your eyes.”

You do— whether you’re queen or not. You hear him shifting aside, and then there’s a snap of his fingers. The air changes, warping like thick, liquid smoke, and you know he’s using his Evol. “Open,” he commands.

And there on the coffee table, freshly teleported, is a plate of macarons the colour of cherry blossoms. As if anticipating the comparison, Sylus pulls a handful of pink petals from his pocket and blows them up into the air so they can spiral down on the scene. He watches them. Then you. “Ta-da,” he proclaims, his tone dry but full of humour.

You’re prone to hyperbole nowadays, but this is without a doubt the best thing you have ever seen.

“Sylus,” you gasp in disbelief, “how did you—”

“It doesn’t matter,” he says; the story isn’t for today, and he’s very, very tired. A few weeks from now he’ll tell you about how he tracked down the contact information of the owner of the old café. How he spent an hour on the phone bargaining for a certain macaron recipe, and several more hours in the kitchen, trying to get them perfect. “Now, they might not be exactly the same, sweetie. But I did try to—”

You surge forwards, capturing his lips in a kiss. It’s so impulsive— so reckless— that you almost tumble down from the couch, but he catches you, steadies you, and your hand is gripping the soft of his hair as he kisses you back. Slowly, his mouth not leaving yours, he lifts you back into your seat.

“Easy, sweetie.” His voice is low as he pulls away, and though he turns his face from you, you can make out the blush on his cheeks. He settles back into his kneeling position on the floor. “I have one more surprise for you. Do try to control yourself.”

He retrieves a small, complete flower from his pocket, albeit one a little dreary from its journey. Sylus smiles triumphantly as he holds it out to you, and he was right; you do want to throw yourself at him. Instead, you take the flower and lean forwards, tucking it behind his ear before he can protest. He’d tilted closer to help you, and he sits back with an exasperated tsk when you’re done.

“It suits you,” you grin.

He yawns. “Everything does.”

You don’t want to get into trouble, so you shimmy to the very edge of your seat and carefully— showing tremendous restraint— reach out to take his face in your hands. “You’re amazing, Sy. Thank you for doing all of this for me, but…”

“But…?”

“I missed you. I like macarons, yeah,” you smile, “but I’d much rather have you.”

This time, he can’t hide his face and the way it goes pink, like the blossom behind his ear. His cheeks are warm beneath your palms. “You couldn’t have said that before I spent the whole day—”

His voice is strangled as you keel towards him— slow and deliberate— to thread your arms around him and pull him into a hug. He tenses for a moment, then wraps his arms around you too: holding you tightly, keeping you from falling any further. You can feel his hand stroking your back and he hums as you give him a gentle squeeze.

“Such a lovely moment, kitten,” he muses, your head on his shoulder. “I do hope it’s sincere, and not— say— an excuse for someone to get her paws on the macarons behind me.”

There’s another moment of quiet.

“Don’t be silly, Sy,” you retort, but your mouth is full, your cheeks are stuffed, and not a single word of it is intelligible.

[hoshifighting]

Hey pookie so I just wanted to ask seeing that you didn't see any of my asks in your inbox could you write me a ff where you're in seventeen and you used to have a friends with benefits situation with wonwoo but now that's over and you're with josh but he knows that so now he wants to have a threesome with you and won I you are comfortable and have the time😊💗

threesome with; actual situationship!joshua & past situationship!wonwoo WC: 3.3k WARNINGS: smut, threesome, reader misses wonwoo, mentions of ovulation/sensitiveness, fingering, oral (m and f receiving), body fluids (cum) penetrative sex, a teeth scratch during blowjob—no pain, joshua and wonwoo making eye contact as they fuck you—idk, but felt like a warning.

you’re not entirely sure how it started. maybe it’s the way joshua’s always had this easy charm, like he knows exactly how to say shit that gets under your skin. but it’s not the kind of annoyance that makes you want to push him away, it’s the kind that makes you want to shut him up by doing things that leave the both of you breathless.

and wonwoo… well, wonwoo’s always been a different story. it’s not like he’s cold, exactly. just detached, distant. except when he’s not. except when his hands were on your hips, and his mouth was on your neck, and when he pulled you so close that it’s like he wanted to remind you how much he can feel.

it wasn’t supposed to last as long as it did, but it did. until it didn’t.

now, though? now you’ve got joshua, and that’s its own thing. he’s smoother than wonwoo ever was, always knows how to keep things light and playful even when his touch is hot and heavy. you’re not sure what to call what you have with him—it’s not exactly a relationship, but it’s not casual either. and he knows about wonwoo. of course he does. you never accomplished about lying to joshus, he knows everything about you, and you simply cant lie looking inside his eyes.

“so,” joshua says, leaning back against the couch, his eyes fixed on you with that lazy smirk you’ve come to expect. “what if we changed things up?”

you raise a brow, not quite following. “changed things up how?”

his gaze flicks over you, dark in his eyes now, something you’ve only seen in flashes before, right when he’s about to get serious. “i know about you and wonwoo. i know it’s over, but…” he lets the words hang there, knowing exactly how to build suspense. “what if it didn’t have to be over?”

you feel your stomach flip, your mind racing to catch up with the suggestion that’s hanging in the air like a loaded gun. “what the fuck are you talking about?”

he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even look like he’s joking. “i’m talking about the three of us.”

you let out a laugh, more out of shock than anything. “a fucking threesome? with wonwoo?” it’s so ridiculous, but there’s something twisted in your chest that says it’s not entirely a bad idea.

joshua just shrugs like it’s the most natural thing in the world. “you said he was good, right? no reason to keep that all to yourself. besides… i’m curious.”

“curious?” you echo, still not believing what you’re hearing. “about what exactly?”

his smile turns wicked, and he leans forward, his lips brushing your ear. “about what it’d be like to see you with him. to see how you’d react if it was both of us. together.”

the idea rolls through your mind like wildfire, igniting thoughts you didn’t even know were buried there. you picture it—wonwoo’s quiet dom that you remembered, joshua’s charming and sensual—and suddenly, the room feels too hot, your heart beating too fast.

you lean back, eyes narrowed. “and what makes you think wonwoo’s even into that?”

joshua grins, knowing exactly what he’s doing. “oh, he’s into it. trust me.”

you don’t need to ask how he knows, and that’s what gets to you. this whole situation, as absurd as it sounds, feels almost inevitable. the tension between you and joshua’s always been good enough, but throw wonwoo into the mix, and it’s like adding gasoline to a slow-burning fire.

“you really think this is a good idea?” you ask, not sure if you’re talking to joshua or yourself at this point.

“i think it’s an idea,” he says, shrugging again, that confidence never leaving his face. “whether or not it’s a good one is up to you.”

you bite your lip, torn between the pull of curiosity and the weight of everything that’s gone down with wonwoo. it wasn’t messy when it ended, but it wasn’t exactly clean either. things like that don’t just disappear. they linger.

“fuck, you’re serious about this.” it’s not a question, more like a realization. joshua’s leaning in, his hands tracing light patterns over your skin, and you feel yourself giving in to the inevitable, even though part of you is still screaming that this is insane.

“completely,” he says, his lips grazing your jaw. “so, what do you say? wanna see how far we can push this?”

there’s a moment, where you think about what this could mean. it’s not just about sex, not with joshua and wonwoo involved. the way joshua’s eyes burn into yours as if he’s daring you to cross a line you can never uncross.

but then, you think about the way wonwoo used to look at you, that hunger in his sharp eyes, and the way joshua’s always been able to coax you into doing things you never thought you’d be into. and, well… maybe crossing that line isn’t the worst idea after all.

“alright,” the weight behind it feels like a door being kicked wide open. “let’s do it.”

joshua’s grin stretches wider, a dangerous glint in his eyes. “that’s what i thought you’d say.”

you can feel wonwoo's presence, even though wonwoo’s not here yet. but you know—you know—that when he is, things are going to change in a way none of you can ever take back.

and the fucked up part is? you’re not sure you’d want to.

[...]

“a threesome?!”

wonwoo’s voice cuts through the room. he’s standing at the foot of joshua’s bed, his eyes wide in disbelief—those same eyes that are always narrow, focused, but right now they’re blown open like he just heard the most ridiculous thing in his life.

honestly, you can’t blame him.

you sit there, smaller than you’ve ever felt, wrapped in the sheets like they might shield you from the exhasperation of his reaction. you’d expected some kind of pushback from wonwoo—he’s not exactly the most spontaneous guy—but the shock in his voice still stings more than you’d thought it would. joshua’s quiet beside you, arms folded across his chest, watching wonwoo with this unreadable look, lips pressed into a thin line. like he’s assessing the situation. like he’s waiting to see how this plays out.

“i—” you start, but your throat feels dry, your words dying before they’ve even formed. you shift, uncomfortable, but it’s not just the awkwardness of the moment. there’s something more, something deeper that’s making your skin feel hot, your body overly sensitive to every movement. you know what it is. you can feel it. your body’s buzzing, the ache between your thighs making itself known with every subtle shift of the sheets. you’re ovulating, and it’s making this whole thing worse, making your body respond in ways that are frustratingly out of your control.

wonwoo’s still staring, he looks at you, then at joshua, then back at you again. you don’t meet his eyes, can’t bring yourself to.

“are you serious?” his voice is lower now, more measured, but there’s still a note of incredulity in it.

you swallow hard, forcing yourself to look up at him. “yeah,” you say, voice quiet, but it’s the truth. “we’re serious.”

wonwoo looks like he’s processing it, his mind running a mile a minute, but there’s a flicker of something in his expression that tells you he’s considering it. and that’s enough for joshua, who leans forward slightly, his voice smooth, persuasive.

“it’s not as weird as it sounds,” joshua says, his tone light, like he’s just suggesting something casual, like going out for drinks. “you’re both already close. you trust each other, I know you for years. we’ve all got chemistry, right?”

wonwoo’s eyes narrow slightly at joshua, but the tension between them isn’t exactly hostile. it’s more like a challenge, like he’s weighing the pros and cons, trying to figure out if this is something he can actually wrap his head around.

finally, wonwoo sighs, rubbing a hand over his face, and when he speaks again, there’s a resigned sort of acceptance in his voice. “fuck it. okay.”

your heart jumps at the words. wonwoo’s gaze locks on yours, and for the first time in what feels like forever, there’s no distance between you. no walls.

joshua doesn’t say anything, but you feel his presence, the way his eyes are on you, observing every little reaction. there’s something almost possessive in the way he watches, like he’s waiting for you to make the first move.

you don’t wait long.

before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re reaching for wonwoo, pulling him down by the front of his shirt until his lips crash into yours. it’s messy, a little frantic, and you missed him. so, so much. like you missed him more than you were willing to admit. you can’t help the small sound that escapes your throat, the way your body responds immediately, almost embarrassingly fast.

wonwoo’s hands grip your waist, pulling you closer, torching the fire that’s already been burning low in your belly.

joshua’s still silent beside you, but you feel his eyes on you, feel the way his presence lingers, close but not touching. when you finally pull away from wonwoo, breathless and dazed, you glance at joshua. his lips are pressed together in a tight line, his expression carefully neutral, but there’s a tension in his jaw that tells you he’s not unaffected by what he just saw.

“fuck,” wonwoo mutters, his forehead resting against yours, his breath hot against your lips. “you’re… fuck, you’re wet already.”

you let out a shaky breath, your body pulsing with a need that’s only getting worse. “yeah,” you admit, not even embarrassed by it. “it’s… it’s the timing.”

wonwoo raises a brow, confused for a second, before realization dawns on his face. “oh.”

wonwoo knew about “the timing” he used to be your relief for it, and he remembered how sensitive you were.

joshua finally speaks up “she’s sensitive right now. been like this all day.”

you want it. you need it.

wonwoo’s eyes darken, his fingers tightening on your waist. “is that right?”

joshua’s watching closely, his hand brushing over your thigh, and the contact is enough to make your breath hitch, your body already responding before you can even think about it. “she’s all yours for now,” joshua murmurs. “but don’t get too comfortable.”

wonwoo’s lips are on yours again, his hands exploring your body with a familiarity that makes the nostalgia wash over you like grandma's food, and you can’t help but respond, your body arching into him.

every touch, every kiss feels magnified, like your senses are on overdrive, and it’s all you can do to keep yourself from losing control entirely. you’re wet, so wet it’s embarrassing, and you know they can both feel it, know exactly how badly you want this, how badly you need it.

“fuck, you’re so sensitive,” wonwoo breathes against your skin, his fingers teasing along the waistband of your underwear, and you whimper at the contact, your hips bucking involuntarily. “can’t believe how wet you are.”

joshua leans in, his lips brushing wonwoo's ear as he whispers, “told you she’s been like this all day. it’s driving her crazy.”

you let out a shaky breath, wonwoo’s fingers dip lower, brushing against your soaked core, and you moan, your head falling back against joshua’s shoulder. it’s too much, but at the same time, it’s exactly what you’ve been craving, what your body’s been screaming for all day.

joshua’s hand slips under your shirt, his fingers brushing over your tits, twisting the hardened nipples, he’s letting wonwoo have you, letting you drown in it, knowing that it’s only a matter of time before he takes over.

wonwoo’s fingers slide inside you, slow at first, and the instant he curls them, you feel your body react, hips stuttering forward like you’re trying to chase the sensation, but can’t quite control it. it’s like your entire body remembers him, remembers the way he used to touch you, how he knows exactly what makes you fall apart.

you gasp, your forehead pressing against his chest, his free hand coming up to hold the back of your neck, keeping you close. “fuck,” you whisper, your breath ragged, your skin burning, fever. “wonwoo…”

he doesn’t respond with words, just lets out a low hum, his fingers working inside you with an infuriating pace, slow but so damn effective. you clench around him, feeling the wetness start to drip onto the sheets beneath you, and your mind’s a blur.

then, they share a look—wonwoo and joshua, their eyes meeting over your trembling form like they’re communicating something quietly between them. it makes your stomach tighten. wonwoo’s chest rumbles with a deep chuckle as you crumble against him, barely able to hold yourself up.

“fuck, you’re squeezing me so tight,” wonwoo mutters, his fingers start moving faster, curling with every thrust, hitting that sweet spot inside you that makes your knees buckle. “didn’t think you’d be this sensitive.”

“wonwoo—” you choke out, your head falling back, and your hand reaches out blindly for joshua. he’s pulling away, but you need him, need both of them. “joshua—”

you hear him groan softly, and when you turn your head, you see him standing there, his hand wrapped around his cock, pumping it slowly, watching you like he’s savoring the sight of you falling apart on wonwoo’s fingers. “fuck, you look so good like that,” he says, his voice thick with lust. “so fucking needy.”

you bite your lip, moaning as wonwoo’s fingers slide deeper, the wet, obscene sounds filling the room as your body betrays you. your thighs tremble, your hands clawing at the sheets, the sensation of being split between them making your head spin. “joshua,” you moan again, voice breaking. “please… come back.”

he doesn’t need much more convincing. you watch as he steps forward, his cock hard and slick in his fist. “you want me that bad, huh?” he murmurs, the teasing lilt in his voice cutting through the haze clouding your mind. “can’t handle just wonwoo?”

wonwoo chuckles softly, his fingers still working inside you. “she’s falling apart already,” he mutters, his breath hot against your neck. “not sure she can handle both of us.”

“she can,” joshua says confidently, his thumb swiping over the tip of his cock as he steps closer, looming over you. “she just needs a little encouragement.”

you’re already panting, your body on edge, teetering dangerously close to losing control completely. you can feel the wetness coating his hand now, dripping onto the sheets, and it only makes the whole thing worse. every little movement makes you more sensitive, your body almost too responsive, and the frustration builds in your chest.

joshua kneels down on the bed, his cock brushing your lips, and you open your mouth automatically, desperate to have him inside you. but the second you try to take him in, wonwoo’s fingers curl again, and you gasp, your body jerking uncontrollably.

“shit—” you whimper, struggling to breathe, “i can’t—”

joshua presses the tip of his cock against your lips, his eyes burning into yours. “oh, you’re just gonna have to try a little harder, baby.”

you moan against him, your hips rolling instinctively into wonwoo’s hand, your body caught in this maddening push and pull between the two of them. joshua slides his cock past your lips, and the feeling of him, heavy and warm on your tongue, only intensifies the sensation of wonwoo’s fingers inside you. you choke a little, struggling to focus on either one of them, but it’s impossible.

wonwoo’s pace picks up, his fingers thrusting deeper, and just when you think you can’t take it anymore, he pulls them out, leaving you empty and clenching around nothing. you whine at the loss, your head spinning, but before you can even process it, he’s shifting lower, pressing your thighs apart with a firm grip.

“wonwoo—” you gasp, your words muffled around joshua’s cock.

“shh,” wonwoo murmurs, his breath hot against your inner thigh. “just relax.”

and then his mouth is on you, his tongue licking a broad, slow stripe up your center, and your entire body seizes up, a broken moan ripping from your throat. your hips buck against his mouth, but he holds you down, his grip tight on your thighs as he starts devouring you like he’s been waiting for this moment forever.

“fuck,” joshua mutters, his hand tightening in your hair as you struggle to take him, the combination of wonwoo’s tongue on your clit and joshua in your mouth pushing you past the point of reason. “you’re so fucking wet. wonwoo’s making a mess out of you.”

you can’t respond, can barely even think, your mind a swirling mess. wonwoo’s tongue is relentless, teasing and sucking at your clit, his fingers slipping back inside you as he eats you out like it’s his only mission in life. you can feel your legs shaking, your entire body trembling as you try to keep up, but it’s impossible. every touch, every thrust of his fingers makes you more sensitive, makes it harder to breathe.

“fuck, i can’t—” you gasp, pulling off joshua’s cock for a second, your voice a desperate, breathless whine.

joshua just chuckles darkly, stroking your cheek with the back of his hand. “you’re doing so good, baby. just a little more.”

wonwoo hums in agreement, the vibration against your clit making your entire body jolt, and you feel yourself spiraling, the tension building faster than you can handle. his tongue flicks over you again, and this time, he focuses on that one spot—the needy, throbbing clit—sucking just hard enough to send you over the edge.

you cry out, your back arching off the bed, your entire body shuddering as the orgasm rips through you, and you can’t do anything but ride it out, trembling and gasping for breath as wonwoo keeps going, his mouth never letting up.

“fuck, look at you,” joshua mutters, his voice full of awe as he watches you fall apart. “so fucking beautiful when you come. i love it.”

wonwoo finally pulls back, his lips shiny and slick with your cum, his eyes dark and hungry as he looks up at you. “she’s not done yet,”

and you know he’s right.

“fuck, look at you,” wonwoo mutters, pulling back from between your legs, his lips still glistening with you. “i’ve got you ready for him, haven’t i?” the heat in your cheeks burning deeper as you realize what he means.

you don’t have time to respond before joshua's hands are on your hips, pulling you up to your knees. the shift makes you gasp, you glance back at him.

“yeah, you’ve got her real nice and wet for me,” joshua says, the blunt head of his cock teasing at your entrance. “good job, wonwoo.”

you feel a kick of embarrassment making your legs shake. wonwoo’s hand comes up to brush against your cheek, turning your face toward him as he looks down at you with that familiar gaze. “c’mere,” he murmurs, his thumb grazing over your lips. “i missed your pretty mouth.”

your lips part automatically, like you’re drawn to him, and before you know it, you’ve wrapped your hand around the base of his cock, guiding him toward your lips. he groans softly as you take him in, his hand resting on your jaw, fingers curling slightly as you suck him in deeper.

“god, i missed this,” he breathes out, his voice catching as you swirl your tongue around him, taking him deeper into your throat. “missed how fucking good you are at this.”

your cheeks flush at the praise, your body humming as joshua teases you from behind, the tip of his cock just narrowly entering you. wonwoo’s hand tightens on your jaw, guiding your movements as you bob your head up and down, your lips stretched around him. the weight of him on your tongue, the taste of him—everything is overwhelming in the best way.

but just as you start to take him in throat, joshua suddenly thrusts into you from behind, hard. the sharp intrusion makes you gasp around wonwoo’s cock, your teeth scraping lightly against him as the sudden cock fills you all at once.

“shit—!” wonwoo curses, his hips jerking as your teeth graze him, not enough to hurt, but enough to make him jolt. his eyes widen in shock, but then a shaky laugh escapes his lips, his free hand tightening in your hair as he steadies you. “motherfucker.”

joshua lets out a loud laugh behind you, clearly amused by wonwoo’s reaction. “sorry about that,” he says, but there’s no real apology in his tone, only satisfaction as he starts moving inside you again, his hips snapping forward with sharp, controlled thrusts that have you whimpering around wonwoo’s cock.

“you’re such a fucking asshole hyung,” wonwoo mutters, but the words are strained, his voice catching as he watches your lips stretch around him. his hand rests on the back of your neck now, guiding your head in time with his shallow thrusts as he slowly fucks your mouth. “fuck, just like that. good girl.”

joshua’s pace is relentless, his hips slamming into you from behind, both filling you—wonwoo in your mouth, joshua inside you.

“god, you’re so fucking tight,” joshua groans, his hands gripping your hips harder as he pushes deeper, the wet, obscene sounds of him fucking you filling the room. “woo, you’ve got her all loosened up, but she’s still so fucking tight around me.”

wonwoo chuckles, but it’s strained, his breath coming in ragged gasps as he watches you struggle to take both of them. “yeah?” he mutters, his voice rough. “she’s so fucking wet, isn’t she? dripping all over you.”

joshua’s pace falters for just a second as he glances up at wonwoo, and for a moment, they lock eyes. it’s strange at first, like neither of them expected to find themselves in this situation—watching each other while they both take you apart. its strange, strange because...

they start to enjoy it.

they enjoy the way their faces contort, the way their moans mix together, the sight of you caught between them—cocks twitching.

joshua whimpers as looking wonwoo's eyes, a smirk playing at his lips as he gives you another sharp thrust, just to watch you choke around wonwoo’s cock.

the sound of both of them moaning, cursing, panting—it only makes you wetter, makes you crave more.

“shit,” joshua breathes out, his voice strained as he keeps up the brutal pace, his hand sliding up your back, fingers digging into your skin. “fuck, you’re taking us so well.”

wonwoo’s face contorts, his hand tightening in your hair as his cock twitches in your mouth. “you’re gonna make me come if you keep going like this,” he groans, his eyes rolling back slightly as he fights to stay in control.

you whimper around him, your body shaking as the pleasure builds higher and higher, and you can feel yourself getting closer, every movement, every touch is pushing you nigher, and the sounds of their moans, the way they’re both so fucking into it—it’s enough to send you over.

“cum for us,” joshua growls, as his hips slam into you again, harder this time.

wonwoo’s grip tightens, his breath coming in short, ragged bursts as he watches you, his fingers flexing slightly on the back of your neck. “show us how fucking good you are.”

your body finally gives in. you come hard, your entire body shaking with the power of it, your lips trembling around wonwoo’s cock as you gasp for air.

“fuck,” wonwoo groans, his hand tightening on your neck as his hips stutter forward, his cock twitching in your mouth as he follows you over the edge.

joshua isn’t far behind, his hips slamming into you one last time before he lets out a sly, throaty moan, his body tensing as he spills inside you, filling you up.

wonwoo pulls out of your mouth slowly, his thumb brushing over your swollen lips as he looks down at you. you look at him shaking your head, taking his cock inside your wet mouth again.

the man melts on the headboard, joshua sat, looking how you look eager to make wonwoo cum, like you just cant leave him hanging. your knees give out, but your neck keep working to bob your head.

there's a line of spit dripping from your chin, as you suck him moaning, as the simply action of sucking him, was stimulating you. wonwoo eyes are glued with joshua's, the hyung biting his own bottom lip as he watches every single detail.

wonwoo feels the cock twitching, the gaze of his hyung plus the warmth of your mouth, making him cum on spot. he looks back at you again, the cum filling your tongue, leaving traces of it on your chin and neck, as you moan dumbly before laying on his thigh.

the boys make eye contact again, a smile spreading across their lips.

[lilacgaby]

title: fairy tale

✩pairing: dragonking!katsuki bakugo x tinkerbell!fem reader

lover or best friend? you two couldn't help but to blur the lines.

summary: katsuki's life had been flipped onto its head, who knew some pixie dust was all he needed?

princes weren't to be excluded from the rest of the village kids.

that's how his parents ruled, they believed that a humble king would be a good king, and that to teach humility would be ensuring the prosperity of their kingdom for generations to come.

unfortunately it didn't really stick with katsuki, who had all the village kid praising him as early as age five. everyone would congratulate him on being so cool, so strong, so smart, such a prince.

until izuku was found to have the king of another kingdom's blood running through him.

being lied to was something katsuki hated even at that young age of seven. he hated not heing in the know, and to have his rival, who he'd race in sport, in magic practice, even at lunch lie to him? to have him in reality be his equal?

it was too much, so he escaped to the hidden area of the royal gardens he'd stumbled upon once.

he let the tears fall freely there, his head in his knees as he rocked back and forth. the rushing of water the only noise he heard accompanied by his crying.

he felt the feeling of something landing on his knee, instinctually he jumped and moved to swat it, making the 'thing' hang to his leg.

he heard the noise of a bell ringing and when he looked down he saw..

a fairy. a real life fairy? he must've been dreaming. they weren't real, just a tale told of time. but as you were there, dandelion-sized and pouting at him, hands stuck your sides as you looked at him adorably,

he knew you were real.

he kept hearing the sound of jingles come from your mouth. from his expression, he saw that something suddenly clicked in your head. you mouthed, "oh.. duh!" and smacked your forehead before sprinkling some glittery thing all over you, and moving to sprinkle it onto him as well.

he felt like he was floating, because he was. "agh! woah!" he exclaimed, moving about only a couple inches of the ground.

"can you hear me now crying boy?" he heard the fairy say, no malice behind their words.

"i-i can hear you." he said, before letting out a surprised "umpf" at the sensation of being dropped back onto the ground.

you landed back on his knee, but this time he noticed a somber expression on your small face as well.

"u-uh. what's wrong fairy.. girl?"

"it's [name].. and.. i lost my hollow. i think they had to leave without me." you said dejectedly, hiccuping slightly between your words.

"so, can i stay with you crying boy?"

he wiped the last of his tears off his face, before scopping you up in his hands. "it's not crying boy, it's katsuki. and yeah, i'll take care of you."

at the news, you did a happy spin in the palm of his hand. "thank you cr- katsuki!"

he carried you around in his pockets all day. he'd poke holes in his expensive cloths just so you could see what he was doing and talk to him. he had shown you to izuku on accident once, him catching katsuki in the act of feeding you maple syrup from his morning breakfast.

as you spoke, even though katsuki could hear the actual words.. "kacchan, does your doll have a bell in it?" nobody else could hear you.

"it's not a doll, get out deku!"

you grew up alongside katsuki, always on his shoulder or his hand, staying close to him because he felt like home personified to you.

and for him, you were his rock. to think someone as small and fragile as you held his deepest secrets, wants, desires, nightmares and all was funny, but he loved you despite it.

for your birthdays he'd get you a new fresh flower to make a dress out of, and for his birthday you'd make him a map with all the best treasure troves you remembered on it.

at night, he'd made you a tiny makeshift bed that he'd lay close to his pillow, the small snores and yawns you'd make in your sleep becoming his lullaby.

the first crowning trial he went on with you. you two were walking-- well you were laid on his shoulder, and he was ranting about how annoying everyone was and how easy this was going to be. "that damn deku loves mocking me, can you believe he sent a letter asking to go on this trail together?"

"are you sure he wasn't just trying to be nice?"

"nice? you don't know the first thing about humans name, he wrote a smiley face at the end of the letter- a smiley face!"

"isn't that a nice thing to do?"

"between friends yeah, but rivals like us? that's like putting a coal down my back."

"oh." you pondered out loud, looking at the sky thoughtfully.

"besides, who needs his help when i have you. all we have to do is find that shitty egg, hatch it, and bring that dragon back. easy as pie."

"but we don't know how to hatch it! nobodies hatched one of those eggs for years! weren't you listening??" you said, now jumping down to fly in front of his face.

"yeah, yeah, but those past guys were me, and they didn't have an awesome fairy like i do." he remarked, stopping to let you lay in his hand.

"damn straight!" you high fived with his pinkie as you continued the journey.

the journey was about a month to get to the mountains, at night you two would have campfires, in day you'd continue moving west while he simultaneously looked for small food for you and charred random boars for him.

he'd managed to find a pixie tree one day, you were so excited as you dragged him to the pool of it, covering him in the dust as he flew with you for he first time. he stayed up there with you for a surprisingly long time, the scared expression on his face as he moved off the ground with you grabbing him by the finger was so funny to you. your laughs reached his ears and made his face scrunch up in annoyance.

with you pulling him around, you covered a lot of ground that day, the signs of the fairy dust running out made you set him on the ground, his legs still wobbly from the experience.

"that was.. weird."

"not fun? you're so boring katsuki!"

"where's my coat??"

"...

i'll go get it.."

the rest of the journey was easy.. if katsuki ignored the hawk that just snatched you out of the sky at the base of the mountain.

you screamed, preparing yourself for your fate as.. the hawk was burnt to a crisp in the sky, falling to the floor with you still in its talons.

"katsuki! you saved me."

"yeah, couldn't have them taking you. you're staying in here from now on." he placed you on his shoulder, tucking one of your legs under his necklace.

"right." you said saluting.

he treked up the mountain, it was tall so the air was getting thin as you two went up. he saw the cavern across the way, they finally had made it.

"let's go." he said, as if you had a choice while being on his shoulder. he walked in, greeted by the site of a dragon's skeleton, and a single, humongous gold egg.

the egg had to have been.. at least bakugo's height. when katsuki used a bit of his fire he saw the dragon inside. since it's been there since the last kings reign..

it had to be 18 too? no wonder it was huge.

"that's a big dragon, how're ya gonna hatch it?" you asked, flying on top of it.

"pfft, i'll figure it out. maybe those assholes before me weren't smart or strong enough."

"right.. well go ahead."

- - -

he tried until the sun went down.

nothing worked. hell he even tried asking it nicely, all to have you laugh when it didn't work. "fuck this and damn you, you damn.. fairy!"

in his anger he threw his coat, which sent the small satchel of your fairy dust flying onto the egg. in panic, katsuki jumped to keep it on the floor.

"what the--" is all he said before the egg started to crack. no. it was hatching?

you flew over observing the situation, katsuki jumped back when a particularly large piece of egg cracked off, and the dragon inside started to move.

"ack!" she flew behind katsuki's head as the dragon jumped out with a confused, "huh?"

...

"i did it! im the king now! hey dragon! you're coming with me!" katsuki said victoriously, in his own little happy world as you flew over to the dragon.

"hi dragon guy, im [name]."

"you're small."

"duh im a fairy, anyways what's your name?"

"oh.. i think it was eijiro kirishima."

she pulled his finger, leading him out the remnants of his shell. "you wanna come with us eijiro? you'll get to be a dragon knight i think."

"cool! i'm in!...

what's a knight though?"

she smacked her head, "ah, i'll explain it later. put these on and let's go kat--" the sight of katsuki sleeping on the floor made her realize how tired he was.

"uh, let's stay here for the night actually, i'll catch you up on all the cool stuff about the world."

"okay!"

you talked all night to the curious dragon, explaining the ins and outs of his future life, your role in katsuki's life, and about your adventures that you'd surely go on.

"hey [name]."

"yes?"

"uh, so kings they have queens right? who's katsuki's queen? is it you?"

you jumped. "ah! no way. he'll.. he'll probably get one when he goes back though." you said, realization setting in as you spoke.

"you don't sound very happy [name]."

with a tight-lipped smile as you rested your head on your hand, you whispered, "i'm not happy at all, actually."

you two went to sleep after that, you suddenly felt tired for some reason. though you know you shouldn't have felt so possessive over katsuki anyways.

you'd developed a crush over him for forever. but you'd have to see him go, see him leave with another.

your fists clenched the leaf covering you,

you couldn't stand it.

the journey started out livelier than normal for katsuki. he'd been listening to the damn dragon's rambling for half a day now, at least he was a natural born hunter. he noticed you being a bit more quiet than usual, he thought you were taking a nap on his shoulder but you were awake, staring between your two legs.

"hey, [name]. what's up with you?"

"yeah [name]! you're so quiet."

you snapped out of your daze, a polite smile on your lips. "ah! it's nothing, just uh-- hungry i guess. and tired, i don't have any dust left."

"well you should've said that earlier. we can get some tomorrow morning." he knew you were lying, but he didn't want to press you with the dragon around. he'd ask you when you two got back to the castle.

the rest of the month passed by like that. he had grown fond of the new dragon that'd serve to be his personal knight, he was dedicated, strong, but just so talkative.

you were spaced out often, waving off his concerns with a limp hand. hiding in his cape as they entered the kingdom.

they were greeted with celebrations all round, it seems news had traveled quickly of the dragon. back pats and smiles were all that greeted bakugo as he walked up to his parents.

with a tearful gaze, his father placed the crown upon his head. "you are now king katsuki. your official coronation is tomorrow but.. we wanted to do this with you personally."

"you finally did some good kid, now comes the hard part. you'll need to pick a wife tomorrow."

the air was zapped out of his and your lungs. "hell no, i'm not choosing shi--"

"yes you are, or you can hand that crown over right now. we're having inko get some of the towns most gorgeous women and some eligible princesses are coming to visit. you will choose someone by the end of the night. congratulations son, you're a king now."

he tsked. "whatever. let's go dragon face." as kirishima followed him out, he led him to a room connected to his. "this is your room, i'll get you tomorrow morning. go to sleep."

"yes sir! wow he's so manly." he said before walking inside and verbally gasping at the room.

"you, come out already. " he said, pulling his cape off and laying it on his bed. you were teary eyed as you sat cross legged. "what's up with you? you've been weird this whole trip?"

"it's nothing."

"it's not nothing, you've been ignoring me and i'm pissed off already. tell the truth already."

your feelings were about to burst, your tears already free falling down your face. "be quiet." you whispered.

"no i don't think i will, because you'll just keep sitting here and ignoring me!"

"i love you! and i shouldn't because it'd never work!" she cried. a moment of silence passes. "i-im leaving."

"to where? hey- where are you going?"

"i don't know."

she flew, the only sight he had of her being her moonlit wings as she disappeared out of his sight.

he couldn't believe it.

he couldn't believe his feelings were reciprocated. he fell asleep to the thoughts of you, and he woke up still preoccupied.

as they prepared him for the ceremony, dousing him in jewels and diamonds, all he could think about was you.

as he walked to his throne where he'd sit until he found a bride, all he thought off was you.

and as they placed the crown on his head, all he thought of was how he'd never be here without your help.

as he stood around in a corner, princesses and village women occasionally attempting to start up conversations with him only to be let down by his cold nature, he thought about if you'd show up.

you'd been by his side for 18 years, he swore it was your birthday today too. he had picked out a flower perfect for you, just like he always did.

but now he wouldn't even get to see you, he thought, fist tightening on his slacks. eijiro had knocked on his shoulder, asking him to go out with him to the gardens for a second. he agreed and walked over.. where.. you were standing there.

only now you were human-sized, an angelically white dress encapsulated you as you stood by the waterfall. your wings were big and shiny as you finally noticed him, smiling.

"katsuki. you look- pfft. handsome." you joked. oh yeah, his hair was slicked down. he walked over to you, taking your hand into his for the first time.

"[name]? it's really you?"

"mhm, cmon." she led him to the secret garden where they'd first met.

"how--"

"i could always turn myself this big, it just takes a bit."

"..about what you said earlier. i..

i love you too [name]." katsuki said, averting his eyes from you but holding your hand tightly. "as a small fairy or as an equal to me.. i-- i really do care about you. i never could've done this without you.

so, uh.."

"just kiss me."

and he did so, the flowers being witness to both of your first kisses.

he felt like he was on cloud nine, never imagining this day would have ended so joyfully, with you by his side.

and with you now officially ruling next to his.

(tagging people i think would enjoy this very much: @kovu-bunnbunn @napbatata @elarakive )

[bunnybrews]

the predator, the prey and the hunter- sylus x reader (slight mc x reader)

genre : angst, slight yandere, suggestive

syn : betrayal isn't something sylus takes lightly, specially when it comes from his bunny.

cw : non-mc! reader, abduction, violence, hair pulling, choking, usage of nicknames (dove, bunny, love, doll, etc.), mention of slapping, slight yandere behaviour.

wc : 2,961

you were nothing but a low ranking member of onychinus, so receiving a mission of such importance was extremely rare and yet here you were, babysitting the hunter who had recently been abducted by your master.

you watched in wonder as the hunter moved around, seemingly searching for an exit. there was a certain grace she carried which enamoured you.

she had everything you wanted, she was everything you wanted to be. brave, kind, strong willed and above all, she belonged to the place of your dreams, linkon city.

you had always wanted to go to linkon, to see the sun, to feel its rays hit your body and fill you with a deep sense of joy and warmth just like all those books described.

but alas, some dreams can never be fulfilled. your fate had already been decided when you took birth in a small shady cabin in the N109 zone to a mother who had a terminal illness and a father who was barely there due to his duties as an onychinus member.

you remember being barely fourteen when the news of your father dying during a mission reached you home. your mother had cried and sobbed all day while you just sat there, unable to bring yourself to cry over a man who you barely saw.

your mother followed your father's footsteps just a year later. her illness finally taking what was left of her.

just a day after your mother's death, the leader of onychinus had personally visited your small shack, offering you a place in his mansion and a position in his syndicate.

though you had nothing against him personally, infact, you held a certain amount of respect for him, yet this was not what you wanted. you didn't want to be part of a criminal organisation, no, you wanted to leave.

you wanted to fulfil the dreams you saw as a young child, to experience the stories your mother often read to you, you wanted to escape the dark alleys of N109 zone and flee to linkon.

yet you weren't dumb enough to refuse his offer. you knew that doing so would ensure a rather painful death. hence, you agreed.

and here you were now, staring at the hunter as if she was some goddess who had just descended from the high heavens.

the stars in your eyes were painfully visible to everyone, including the hunter. she could see the curiosity and naivety that lingered in your eyes. as much as it bothered her, she knew tricking and using you would be her only way to escape this hell.

your eyes lit up as you saw the hunter take a seat next to you on the sofa before you quickly looked away, trying to school your expressions back to neutral.

though before you got the chance to do so, a hand was placed on your thigh making you snap your head towards the hunter who was currently smiling down at you.

the fact that the hunter was a few inches taller than you was made evident when you had to crane your head up to look into her eyes.

they were green like the protocores you saw being transported in and out of the mansion and so so shiny! you were basically lost in their vibrancy.

a gentle squeeze to your thigh brought you out of your musing as a chuckle left the hunter's pretty lips.

“what's your name?” it was a simple question but the voice that left her lips had you in a trance, one that was broken by another squeeze to your thigh.

“i- i can't tell you my name. sorry!”

you were quick to remember your training and lessons, making sure to not reveal anything.

“why though? its just a name, its not like i'm going to report you to the hunters or something”

“umm yeah but master told us to not reveal anything about ourselves to anyone. he says that it could lead us into a lot of trouble. i'm really sorry but i can't go against his orders”

the hunter huffed in annoyance as she realised that she won't be finding any answers from the girl anytime soon. she had to change her approach.

“no no, you don't need to apologise. its my fault for asking. it's just that i've been trapped here for so long and you are the first person who hasn't been rude to me, i was just trying to get to know you more i guess, i'm sorry.”

her voice was softer now, hints of sadness and pain wafting through it. you couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for the girl sitting next to you, your heart melting a little at the frown on her face.

“i understand, it must have been hard for you, not having anyone to talk to. while i may not be able to share anything valuable with you, i'll be more than happy to indulge in a conversation!”

a smirk graced the hunter's lips for a second, the innocent dove had just entered the cage set up for her. she almost scoffed at your naivety. you don't belong here in this hell, she would have to make sure to take you with her when she finally finds a way out.

“how about we play 20 questions? we'll be able to get to know each other better this way without revealing any crucial details about ourselves and you can just skip the questions which you feel are too imposing.”

the hunter's plan was perfect. a game of 20 questions was her best shot at gathering whatever information she could under the guise of getting to know each other.

“that sounds so fun! we can do that!”

“alright, i'll start. why did you join onychinus?”

she watched as you tensed up, an air of uncomfort forming around you. sensing your unease, she decided to tread carefully and changed up the question.

“nevermind, you don't have to answer that. hmm, well…how about…what is something that you really want to do or really want to achieve?”

the hunter knew that this was a risky gamble yet the gleam that took over your eyes at the question reassured her. your voice was soft as you shyly answered while playing with your hands.

“i've always wanted to see the sun. i've heard lots of stories about it, my mom used to read them to me before bed! i just wanna see it with my own eyes. anyways, its my turn to ask you a question now!”

she nodded at you, motioning you to ask away.

“how does the sun feel like? does it feel good when you walk in the sunlight? is it just like the stories or does it hurt and irritate you?”

“it's even better than the stories. walking in the sunlight feels like you are being embraced by warmth itself. it's really magical.”

hook, line and sinker! the trap had already been set into place, all she needed to do now was to lure you out and judging by the look of amazement in your eyes, she could tell that she was already halfway there.

“alright, it seems to be my turn now. if you really want to see the sun so badly, then why are you still here in this damned place?”

she observed the way you lowered you head slightly and chewed on your bottom lip. she sighed as her hopes of getting an answer out of you diminished.

“uh well, i can't just leave. master won't allow it.”

“why? does he not give you any freedom to do as you wish? has he trapped you here as well?”

“it's not like that! i am allowed to roam around the zone all i want but i can't leave. it's against the rules. also, even if i was allowed to leave the zone, its not like i could ever step into linkon without being hunted down and charged for my association with onychinus.”

the frown tugging at your lips quickly lifted as a warm hand was placed under your jaw, gently lifting your face up.

“i can help you. i know someone who can make up a fake identity for you, no one will be able to recognize you!”

you sighed against her palm turning your face slightly so that your cheek was resting against her palm instead of your jaw.

“what's a fake identity gonna do when i can't even leave the zone? i told you, i'm not allowed to leave”

“then let's run away. run away with me and we'll go to linkon. let me help you. help me so i can help you.”

she felt the way you tensed up and drew back from her, a gasp leaving your lips. the hesitation was visible in your eyes, but there was something else too.

“y-you shouldn't be saying things like that out loud! master will be so angry if he heard you. he'll lock you up and kill me for even talking about such things if he heard this.

“will you please stop thinking about your master for a second and instead think about yourself for once! what about you? what about your wants? your desires? are you really just going to give all your dreams up like that? is this what you want? to keep living in this slump until you grow old and die one day without even seeing the sunlight? is that what you want, huh?”

her words jabbed at a wound that had always been present in your heart. you don't want this. you don't want to grow old here and die without seeing the sunlight, just like your parents did. you don't want the same fate as them.

the hunter smirked as she watched the flame she had ignited swallow you whole. the sweet sound of your resolve crumbling was audible to her. she could see your hesitation being replaced with determination.

“but how? how are you going to take me to linkon when you yourself are trapped here?”

“this, my love, is where you enter the plan. you will get me out of here, and as repayment, i'll get you a new identity and citizenship in linkon.”

“but how would i be able to help you? if i knew how to escape this place successfully, don't you think i would have used that tactic to flee already?”

“you may not know how to escape the N109 zone but i'm sure you know how to exit this mansion. all you have to do is get me out of here and leave the rest to me. don't worry your pretty little head too much by overthinking, doll. just lead me out of here, and i'll take you with me to the place of your dreams.”

she held out her hand to you, patiently waiting for you to accept her offer. it didn't surprise her a bit when your soft hand found its way into hers, fingers intertwined together.

you quickly stood up, taking the hunter with you as you used your key to open the door, leading the both of you towards the hallway which you knew would open into a secret exit.

the both of you dashed towards the exit hand in hand until a black mist suddenly pushed you both back forcefully, making you crash into the nearest wall.

before you could even open your mouth to let out a whine, a pair of blood red eyes captured your gaze. he found out.

you glanced at the hunter when the sound of someone choking and wheezing started filling the room. you could see the black mist tightly coiled around her neck, squeezing the life out of her.

if this is how he punished the girl who he had abducted because she owned something that was necessary for his plan, you didn't even want to find out how he would punish you, a low ranking employee.

all you could do was shut your eyes tightly and await the punishment that you were sure was going to come your way.

the feeling of a bruising grip on your jaw was all that you felt before you were pushed aside, your body hitting the floor as you finally opened your eyes to see your master stalking towards the hunter.

the choking noises subsided as the grip of his evol loosened. you watched as he touched the hunter's hair before roughly pulling them, making her look into his eyes.

“were you really dumb enough to believe that you could escape me, huh? you really thought you could plot against me in my own home and i won’t find you? i must commend you though, you may not be the smartest tool in the shed, but you are an excellent manipulator or maybe my dumb little bunny is just too stupid, falling for your silly tricks”

just as the last sentence left his lips, he turned towards you. the trembles in your body increased as the distance between you and your master decreased.

you felt his evol coil around yourself as you were brought to your feet, body immobilised and held in place by his evol.

tears started leaking out of your eyes as you awaited your fate. a whimper escaping your trembling lips as a hand reached up towards your face. you expected a slap but instead were greeted by his rough calloused fingers wiping your tears.

“my stupid bunny, always managing to find a way to amuse me. did you really think that i would let you leave? so dumb. what am i going to do with you? should i lock you up in a room just like her, take all your freedom away? or should i punish you, show you what happens to naughty little bunnies when they disobey their masters? tell me bunny, which one do you prefer?

you knew it was a trick question and yet you shook your head wildly. glancing up at your master with tears still streaming down your eyes as soft sobs left your lips, you could see the disappointment in his eyes.

the knowledge that you were the reason for the disappointment made your sobs increase in both volume and velocity. your body trembling badly under the hold of his evol.

seeing your pitiful condition, the hunter couldn't help but blame herself, the sight of you tear stained face making her lose her temper and rebel against the energy holding her in place.

“step away from her you monster! she had no part in this!”

sylus snapped his head towards the hunter, eyes narrowing in annoyance as she fought for you as if you were hers to protect.

it was obvious that the hunter had taken a liking to you and this filled the red eyed man with fury. the thought of the hunter liking you was sending his brain into an overdrive.

he had to prove his ownership over you. needed to prove his ownership over you. if he was going to have to take you in front of the damned hunter to prove that you were his then so be it.

he used his evol to pull you towards himself, a hand snaking down to your waist as he pulled you closer until your back was resting against his chest.

“tch, you see miss hunter, that's where you are wrong. she did have a part in this, a huge part if i say so myself.”

his grip tightened over you as his other hand went to your face, turning it to an angle so that you were staring into his eyes once again.

“she should have known better than to fall for your antics. she should've been smarter and most importantly, she should've remembered who she belongs to”

with that he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was anything but gentle. his teeth pulled at your lower lip, tongue swirled around yours, lips moved against yours at a bruising pace, all while you stood there like a statue.

he pulled away from you after sometime of sucking the life straight out of your mouth. his eyes briefly finding yours before they moved to the hunter who had her jaw clenched and anger flared at the sight.

he watched in amusement as she thrashed around his evol, trying to escape the bruising grip before looking down at you once again.

you were still staring up at him with your glossy lips parted and your eyes widened in horror. at that moment you looked like the textbook definition of adorable if he may say so himself.

he used the hand holding your face to gently push a strand of stray hair behind your ear before leaning down to whisper in your ear, his voice low but loud enough for both you and the hunter to hear.

“i think i finally figured you punishment out bunny. you've been such a naughty girl lately. do you know what happens to naughty girls? they get fucked roughly by their masters. im not that cruel though, so i'll make your punishment a little easier for you. since you've taken such a liking to miss hunter over there, i'll make sure she stays with you, watching you while i fuck the life out of you. you would like that, won't you bunny?

you were suddenly pushed onto your knees and the hand which was previously holding you now rested on your head.

cautiously, you peeked up at the hunter hoping to find a sign of reassurance in her eyes but to your shock, her eyes, just like your master's, were glazed with lust.

oh heavens, tonight was definitely going to be a long and tiring one for you.

[bratzkoo]

barely yours | mingyu pt. 4

Author: bratzkoo | navi Pairing: rockstar! mingyu x reader Word Count: 1.5k Genre: fluff, angst, smut-ish Rating: NC-17 Possible Warnings: written in third person.

Summary: you flirt, you fuck, but when you hint that you want to be more he dismissed it as if you’re joking… and when you decide to ignore him he comes back with flowers at your doorstep.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): ​​@ca-clover, @junniesoleilkth , @gaslysainz , @darkerrdaze , @mansaaay , @childish-fear , @lixisoul99 , @cherrylovescheol , @yuyu1024 , @tacolombe , @black-swan-blog27 , @tulipndtale , @xuimhao , @cookiearmy

requests are open, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

The pulsing beat of HHT's latest single, "Shadow," reverberated through the stadium, drowning out the deafening roar of 50,000 fans. As the final chords faded away, Mingyu raised his guitar triumphantly, his chest heaving with exertion and adrenaline. The crowd's cheers reached a fever pitch as confetti rained down from above.

"Thank you, London!" Seungcheol's voice boomed through the speakers. "You've been an amazing audience! We are HHT, and we love you!"

As they took their final bow, Mingyu's eyes swept across the sea of light sticks and banners. Five years ago, he could never have imagined this level of success. HHT had gone from rising stars in the K-pop scene to a global phenomenon, selling out stadiums across the world and topping international charts.

The irony of their latest hit being named "Shadow" wasn't lost on Mingyu. The song, with its haunting melody and lyrics about chasing after something just out of reach, had resonated deeply with him during the writing process. Now, as he stood on stage, he couldn't help but think about the shadows in his own life – the lingering feelings and unresolved emotions that he'd never quite been able to shake.

Backstage, as the euphoria of the performance began to fade, Mingyu found himself in a familiar state of restlessness. He scrolled through his phone, barely registering the congratulatory messages and social media notifications.

"Looking for something specific?" Vernon's voice startled him. The younger man was grinning knowingly, a towel draped around his neck.

Mingyu locked his phone quickly, perhaps a bit too quickly. "Just checking the time. We have that afterparty, right?"

Vernon's grin widened. "Uh-huh. And it has nothing to do with a certain collection launch happening in Paris tonight?"

Mingyu felt heat rise to his cheeks. Was he that transparent? "I don't know what you're talking about," he mumbled, but he knew it was useless. Vernon had always been too perceptive for his own good.

"Sure, sure," Vernon chuckled, clapping Mingyu on the shoulder. "Just remember, we have a flight to catch tomorrow afternoon. Try not to stay up all night stalking social media, okay?"

As Vernon walked away, Mingyu sighed and unlocked his phone again. This time, he didn't pretend as he navigated to Instagram and searched for a familiar name: @YN_Beauty.

The latest post showed an elegantly decorated venue, champagne flutes and flowers artfully arranged around sleek packaging of skincare products. The caption read: "Tonight's the night! Can't wait to share our new 'Solène' collection with all of you. ✨ #YNBeauty #SolèneLaunch"

Mingyu's heart skipped a beat, then began racing. "Solène." The name hit him like a physical blow, memories flooding back of a night long ago, of whispered confessions and intimate moments.

He remembered tracing the delicate script on Y/N's hip, the tattoo hidden from the world but shared with him in a moment of vulnerability. "Solène," she had explained, her voice soft in the darkness of her bedroom. "It means 'sun' in French. A reminder to always seek the light, even in the darkest times."

Now, seeing that name splashed across Y/N's beauty campaign, Mingyu felt a complex mix of emotions. Pride at her success, nostalgia for their shared past, and an ache for what they had lost.

His thumb hovered over the like button, trembling slightly. After a moment's hesitation, he tapped it, watching the heart turn red. It was the first time he'd interacted with Y/N's social media in years.

Four years. It had been four years since he'd last seen Y/N in person. Four years since she'd left her position as HHT's manager to pursue her own dreams. They'd kept in touch at first – casual texts, the occasional phone call. But as both of their careers skyrocketed, those communications had become less and less frequent, until they'd stopped altogether.

Now, Y/N was a celebrity in her own right. Her beauty and skincare lines had taken the world by storm, and she had become a fixture at fashion weeks and high-profile events. She was a regular on magazine covers, her face gracing billboards in major cities around the globe. The girl who had once managed their schedules and scolded them for being late to practice was now a sophisticated socialite, moving in circles that sometimes felt worlds away from the music industry.

But "Solène"? What did it mean that she had chosen that name, so personal and intimate, for her new collection? Was it just a coincidence, or was Y/N sending a message? To him? To the world? Mingyu's mind raced with possibilities, each more unlikely than the last.

He found himself opening their old text thread, scrolling up to see their last exchange. It was from over a year ago – a simple "Happy Birthday" from him, and a "Thanks! Hope you're doing well" from her. How had they let things get so distant?

Mingyu's finger hovered over the keyboard. Should he message her? Congratulate her on the launch? Ask about the name?

"Mingyu! Car's waiting!" Wonwoo's voice snapped him out of his reverie.

Shaking off his tumultuous thoughts, Mingyu plastered on his best idol smile and made his way to the exit. He had an afterparty to attend, fans to meet, an image to maintain. But even as he posed for selfies and signed autographs, his mind remained fixed on a glittering event happening across the Channel, where a woman he'd never quite gotten over was celebrating a triumph that echoed with their shared past.

Meanwhile, in Paris, Y/N was in her element. The launch party for her newest skincare collection, "Solène," was in full swing. The who's who of the fashion and beauty world mingled in the opulent venue, the air filled with the delicate scent of her latest creations – a complex blend of fragrances that reminded her of late-night conversations and stolen moments backstage.

"Y/N, darling, this is absolutely divine," gushed a famous actress, sampling one of the new serums. "And the name! So intriguing. Is there a story behind it?"

Y/N's smile faltered for just a moment before she regained her composure. "Every product tells a story," she replied smoothly. "This one's about finding light in unexpected places."

As she made her rounds, shaking hands and accepting congratulations, Y/N couldn't help but feel a sense of surreality. How had the girl who once spent her days wrangling a bunch of rowdy K-pop idols become... this? A successful entrepreneur, a name brand, a socialite with an invitation to every A-list event?

Shaking off his tumultuous thoughts, Mingyu plastered on his best idol smile and made his way to the exit. He had an afterparty to attend, fans to meet, an image to maintain. But even as he posed for selfies and signed autographs, his mind remained fixed on a glittering event happening across the Channel, where a woman he'd never quite gotten over was celebrating a triumph that echoed with their shared past.

She excused herself for a moment, stepping out onto a balcony for a breath of fresh air. The Parisian night sparkled before her, the Eiffel Tower illuminated in the distance. Y/N closed her eyes, letting the cool breeze caress her face.

In moments like these, when the whirlwind of her life slowed for just a second, she often found her thoughts drifting to a certain tall, handsome guitarist. She wondered what Mingyu was doing right now. Was he on stage somewhere, sending thousands of fans into a frenzy with his soulful voice and killer riffs? Was he in the studio, crafting the next hit that would top charts worldwide?

Y/N pulled out her phone, giving in to the urge she'd been fighting all night. She opened Twitter, quickly finding HHT's official account. Their latest post showed the band on stage in London, confetti raining down as they took their final bow. Her eyes were drawn immediately to Mingyu, his face alight with the joy of performance.

A familiar ache bloomed in her chest. They'd promised to stay friends, to support each other as they grew. But somewhere along the way, daily texts had become weekly, then monthly, then... nothing. Their lives had taken them in different directions, their paths diverging more with each passing year.

"There you are!" Her assistant's voice startled Y/N out of her thoughts. "The CEO of Sephora wants to discuss potential exclusive distribution deals. Are you ready to go back in?"

Y/N took a deep breath, schooling her features into a polite smile. "Of course. Lead the way."

As she re-entered the party, slipping back into her role as the poised, successful businesswoman, Y/N couldn't quite shake thoughts of Mingyu from her mind. She absently touched her hip, where the "Solène" tattoo still rested, hidden beneath layers of designer fabric. She had worked hard for this life, this success. She should be happy, fulfilled.

So why did that one little word, now emblazoned on products around the world, make her feel more vulnerable than she had in years?

Little did Y/N know, halfway across Europe, Mingyu was asking himself the same question. As both of them went through the motions of their glamorous but separate lives, neither could shake the feeling that maybe, just maybe, it was time to bridge the gap that had grown between them.

But fate, it seemed, wasn't done with Mingyu and Y/N just yet.

[pretzel-box]

Tags: Romance, Therapist Reader x Patient Sebastian, Human AU where Sebastian escaped as human from urbanshade, fluff.

Cordelia from @splatting-stampede mentioned

Words: 6,4k

Authors Note: May be strangely written since this was supposed to be a series as well that I scraped a while ago.

Sebastian Solace sat in the comfortable seat of a neat black car, his hand absently tracing the soft cotton surface beneath him, the pads of his fingers brushing lightly, almost reverently over the expensive looking fabric. His nails scratched it, ever so softly, just enough to catch on the threads but not enough to tear.

Touch was a simple act for the human kind—so instinctual, so innate. We touch without thinking, without meaning. It’s the most natural thing, something we do constantly, yet we seldom stop to consider it. For Sebastian, though, touch had become something different—something both grounding and disorienting.

He had the habit of touching things. Simple things, ordinary objects, as if by running his hands over them he could tether himself to the present, remind himself that he still existed in this world. His fingers would brush the cold, metallic pole of a street sign on his daily walks, savoring the biting chill of steel beneath his skin. Or they would glide over the rough wood of the cutting board he pulled from the shelf each evening, preparing another meal for his dear mother, feeling the grains of the wood press into his palms—a familiar sensation, comforting in its mundanity.

But the soft cotton of the car seat, the way it yielded so easily to his touch, triggered something deeper within him. His mind began to drift, the memories rising unbidden like ghosts in the corners of his thoughts. At first, it was harmless—the recollection of his childhood, the warmth of home, the innocent textures that filled his world back then. The feel of his mother’s worn apron when he hugged her after school, the smooth glass of the windows he’d press his face against, watching the rain slide down in endless rivers.

Yet those memories, so pure, began to twist. They bled into something darker, tainted by the nightmares that Urbanshade had burned into his soul. The soft brush of skin against skin due the contact with the urbanshade soldiers, once a sign of comfort, now carried the weight of fear. He could still feel the slick warmth of human flesh under his nails, the sensation of digging into it—not out of malice, but out of desperation. The way it gave way beneath pressure, soft at first, then firm, until you hit the bone, that unforgiving barrier beneath the fragile veneer of the body. The rush of terror that coursed through him, through them.

His fingers trembled slightly, still tracing the seat, but now his mind was elsewhere. It wasn’t the soft fabric beneath his fingertips anymore—it was the cold, sterile metal of the surgery table. The way it pressed into his back, hard and unyielding, the chill seeping into his bones as they strapped him down, the harsh, sterile scent of disinfectant invading his nostrils. He could feel the restraints on his wrists, tight and unrelenting, the cold bite of the metal cuffs against his skin. He remembered how the lights overhead blazed down on him, so bright they seemed to sear through his skull, and the shadowy figures that moved around him, faceless, voiceless. He felt the cold steel instruments in their hands, the sharp sting of needles, the pull of something beneath his skin.

Urbanshade.

It wasn’t just a place. It was a sensation, a lingering imprint on his very soul. To feel Urbanshade was to feel a violation of everything human. It was the coldness that seeped into your bones, the sterile touch of hands that viewed you as nothing more than an experiment. The loss of warmth, the loss of identity, the loss of control.

He dug his nails slightly harder into the car seat, as if testing its reality, trying to convince himself that he was no longer there. That this was just a seat in a car, a simple object, unthreatening. But no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t shake the feeling. The memories clung to him, crawling beneath his skin like parasites, making even the softest of touches a reminder of what had been taken from him.

He closed his eyes, taking a slow, shaky breath. The car seat was soft—too soft. He needed something real, something solid, something that wouldn’t blur the line between past and present. His fingers ached for the sharp cold of metal, the rough grain of wood—anything that could remind him he was still alive, still here. Still human.

But even now, in the silence of the car, in the comfort of safety, Urbanshade lingered.

It always would.

Sebastian kept his eyes closed, trying to block out the world around him with a newfound mental force. The gentle hum of the engine was the only thing keeping him tethered to the present, though even that felt surreal, like a lull between nightmares. He shifted in his seat, feeling the faint resistance of the belt around his waist—another restraint, softer than the ones at Urbanshade, but a restraint that he despised nonetheless. The walls of the car, though padded with comfort, felt like a cage. No matter where he looked, it all felt so unbelievably suffocating as the memories kept replaying all over again.

The road stretched out ahead, dark and winding, and the faint glow of the asylum’s lights appeared in the distance. It loomed there like a monument to everything he feared. His heart quickened, not because he didn’t know what waited for him there, but because he did.

It wasn’t freedom. It wasn’t safe. It was just another kind of prison, one where they wouldn’t peek into his body but rather into his mind like some museum only to label him with a bunch of wrong things.

The two men in the front seats spoke in low voices, barely audible over the sound of the car, but Sebastian wasn’t listening. He didn’t need to. He knew what they thought of him—what everyone thought of him now. Broken. Dangerous. A man twisted by whatever horrors Urbanshade had inflicted. An experiment gone wrong instead of being an escaped survivor.

They didn’t understand. No one did.

His fingers continued tracing the seat, seeking that thin line between control and collapse. He could still feel the cold metal table beneath him, the surgical instruments, the way his skin had been pulled and prodded as though it wasn’t his own. The memories tangled together, one bleeding into the next, and he felt his breath hitch, his body growing tense.

The car jolted to a stop, and Sebastian’s eyes snapped open. They were there.

Outside the window, the asylum stood in the pale glow of the overhead lights, its high stone walls casting long, ominous shadows across the pavement. Barbed wire curled along the perimeter, a silent reminder that no one left without permission. The building itself was old, the kind of place that wore its history in the cracks of its foundation, the air thick with the memories of all the broken minds that had passed through its halls.

“Alright, let’s get him out,” one of the men said, his voice gruff and mechanical, as though Sebastian was just another case file to be processed.

The back door swung open, and cool night air flooded the car. Sebastian felt a hand grab his arm—firm, but not rough—and pull him out of the seat. His legs were shaky beneath him, the world swaying slightly as his feet touched the ground. He blinked, adjusting to the dim light, but his senses felt dulled, disconnected.

They moved him toward the entrance, the crunch of gravel beneath their feet echoing like a death march. His wrists were bound in front of him, not tightly, but enough to remind him of where he was headed. The large iron doors of the asylum creaked open, and the moment he stepped inside, the sterile smell hit him. It was different from Urbanshade—less clinical, more… institutional. But it was the same coldness, the same emptiness.

A receptionist sat behind a glass panel, barely looking up as the men escorted Sebastian through the main hallway. He passed doors, closed and locked, leading to rooms he’d soon know intimately. A faint flickering from the overhead lights made shadows dance on the walls, and for a moment, he thought he saw something—someone—lurking in the corner of his vision. He flinched, pulling back instinctively, but it was gone in an instant. Just his mind, playing tricks again.

“Room 314,” one of the men muttered as they rounded a corner. “That’s where he’s staying.”

The door to 314 stood ahead, solid and unremarkable, but to Sebastian, it felt like another cell, another space where his mind would be left to unravel in the silence. They unshackled his wrists before pushing him gently into the room, the door closing with a heavy, metallic thud behind him.

The room was small and drenched in gray, drowned from all colors. The bed was plain, the sheets folded with mechanical precision. A single window allowed a sliver of moonlight to pour in, casting faint shadows on the cold floor. Everything was sterile, untouched, and devoid of warmth. He stood in the center of it all, feeling the walls close in. It was like the movies he saw as a teen, where he giggled about the silliness of the gray walls, the gummy cells and those weird white jackets.

The men outside exchanged a few words with the nurse stationed in the hallway, but Sebastian didn’t care. He walked slowly toward the window, pressing his fingertips against the cool glass, feeling the barrier between himself and the world beyond. His breath fogged up the window as he leaned in closer, staring out into the night.

The asylum was quiet, peaceful in a way that felt suffocating. But inside his head, there was no peace. Only chaos. Only memories of what had been done to him. His mind flickered back to Urbanshade—the cold touch of steel, the searing pain that followed each experiment, the faceless shadows that haunted him still. The worst part wasn’t even the pain, though. It was the way they looked at him, like he was less than human. Like he was a thing.

He clenched his fists, nails digging into the palms of his hands, but the pain did nothing to ground him. His mind still spun, spiraling into memories he wished he could forget. Faces blurred together—his own reflection warped into something he no longer recognized.

He stepped back from the window, turning to face the empty room. The walls were bare, the furniture sparse, but it wasn’t the simplicity that unnerved him. It was the silence, the lack of life. There were no beeping machines, no harsh lights, no whispers of doctors making notes in the corner.

Yet somehow, that was worse.

For all its sterile emptiness, Urbanshade had felt alive—like it pulsed with the dark, unspoken secrets of the things that happened there. The asylum, on the other hand, felt like a void, waiting to swallow him whole.

And here he was. Trapped again.

Sebastian closed his eyes, sinking onto the stiff mattress, his head falling into his hands. They told him this place would help. That it would make the nightmares stop, make the memories fade. But he knew better.

This was just another place to lose himself.

And deep down, he wasn’t sure there was anything left to save.

On the next day, a woman with bright cyan hair came to his room, ripping the door open. She was clothed in pristine white, holding a clipboard and a pen while she scanned the room. The she glanced over at him. “My name is Sasha, I am the head nurse. And this wonderful young lady is Cordelia, your personal nurse. We will now begin to escort you to your first therapy session with the doctor. Please do not resist. Another woman stepped in front, probably Cordelia, she pulled the blanket from his body and let the cold air hit his limbs. He knew better than to resist, so he followed the lead of the two women.

The therapy room was sparse but comfortable, designed with a muted palette of soft blues and grays to soothe the nerves of its occupants. There was a large window with a view of the asylum's manicured garden, but the bars over the glass reminded everyone where they were. You sat relaxed in a chair across from Sebastian, clipboard resting lightly on your lap, pen poised but not moving.

Sebastian sat across from you, his body stiff in the armchair as though the cushion beneath him were made of nails. He hadn’t said a word since entering the room, hadn’t even made eye contact. His posture screamed defiance, with his arms crossed tightly over his chest and his legs locked at sharp angles. The air between you two was thick, charged with his silence. It was a barrier, one he had no intention of letting you cross.

“Sebastian,” You began, keeping your tone professional, calm. “We don’t have to talk about anything too difficult today. This is just an introduction, a way for us to get to know each other.”

Silence.

You resisted the urge to glance at their watch. The first session was always the hardest, especially with someone like Sebastian, someone who had been through horrors no one should ever have to experience. Urbanshade. The name alone sent shivers down your spine, even though you didn’t know the full extent of what had happened there. But you had read the reports, the endless files filled with medical jargon, lists of procedures, and psychological damage that painted a grim picture.

But reports were just words on paper. They didn’t show what was really inside a person’s mind, didn’t reveal the layers of trauma, fear, and anger that might be hiding behind the walls someone like Sebastian had built.

“You don’t have to say anything if you’re not ready,” You continued, trying to fill the silence without making it feel pressured. “This room is a space for you to express whatever you feel comfortable with. Or, if you’re not ready to talk, that’s okay too. We can just sit here.”

Sebastian’s eyes flickered, but not toward you. They remained fixed on a spot just beyond your shoulder, as if staring through you, beyond you. His fingers tapped rhythmically against his arm, a silent beat that seemed to fill the room, replacing the conversation that should have been happening.

You glanced down at your notes, briefly scanning over the key points they had planned for this session. Establish trust. Create a sense of safety. Encourage small, manageable steps toward communication. But how could you build trust with someone who refused to acknowledge your presence? How could you help someone heal when they wouldn’t even meet your eyes?

“Is there anything you’d like to talk about?” You asked softly, giving Sebastian the space to respond.

Nothing.

Sebastian’s breathing was even, steady, but there was a tightness in his shoulders, a slight tremor in his hands that betrayed his calm exterior. He was a storm, held tightly within the confines of his own body, and you knew that trying to force him to open up would be like trying to pry open a sealed vault.

“Sometimes just being here, being present, can be a start,” You added, not expecting a response but hoping your words might at least reach him. “You don’t have to rush. I’ll be here whenever you’re ready.”

The minutes ticked by in heavy silence. You could feel the weight of Sebastian’s resistance pressing into the room, thickening the air between them. His gaze never wavered, still fixed on that point in the distance, and you had to remind yourself to breathe, to stay grounded, to not let the quiet suffocate the session.

You could see it in him—the walls he had built, the armor he wore to keep the world at bay. And who could blame him? After everything he had been through, everything he had survived, of course he would protect himself. Of course he wouldn’t trust easily, or perhaps ever again. Urbanshade had taken so much from him—his sense of safety, his autonomy, his humanity.

“It’s okay if you’re not ready,” You repeated, more to yourself than to Sebastian at this point.

Sebastian shifted, his foot tapping the floor once before going still again. He was listening, that much was clear, even if he wasn’t engaging. His silence wasn’t apathy—it was something else. Maybe fear. Maybe anger. Maybe both. Your professional detachment reminded you not to push, not to pry too hard, but it was difficult not to feel the sting of rejection. You were here to help, but the wall between you two felt insurmountable.

“I want you to know that whatever happened to you, whatever you’re feeling, is valid,” You said gently, your voice steady but soft. “You don’t have to talk about it now, but when you’re ready, I’m here to listen. And I won’t judge.”

Still, no response. But you hadn’t expected one. Not today.

The session was coming to a close, the hour slipping away in a haze of quiet tension. You made a few notes, documenting the silence, the lack of interaction, but also the subtle tells—Sebastian’s tapping fingers, the tightness in his posture. It wasn’t much, but it was something. A small sign that despite his refusal to engage, Sebastian was present. He was here. And maybe, just maybe, that was enough for now.

“Thank you for sitting with me today,” You said as you stood, tucking your clipboard under your arm. “We’ll try again next time.”

Sebastian didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge the end of the session, but you didn’t expect him to. You offered a small, professional smile before leaving the room, the door closing softly behind them.

Outside, you let out a slow breath. It was only the first session, and it hadn’t gone anywhere near as you had hoped. But healing took time. Trust took time.

And with Sebastian, they would need all the time in the world. You could see the two women, Sasha and Cordelia, walking down the hall, ready to retrieve Sebastian from the room. And then it finally hit you, Sebastian would need you.

…

Sebastian sat in the chair again, the same one as last time. His fingers drummed against his knee, but this time, the rhythm was slower, more measured. He stared at the floor, at the scuffed tiles beneath his boots, the edges of his vision blurring as he let his mind drift.

He knew the routine. The therapist—you—would walk in, sit across from him with that same calm, professional demeanor, and start talking. You would ask gentle questions, give him space to respond, and when he didn’t, you’d continue, as though his silence didn’t matter.

But it wasn’t that he couldn’t talk. He just didn’t want to. He didn’t want to pull the memories from the dark corners of his mind, didn’t want to speak them into existence, give them life outside his head. Speaking made them real. And he wasn’t ready for that.

He heard the soft click of the door opening and glanced up briefly, just enough to see you walk in. Your movements were graceful, unhurried. You were always calm, always composed. It was almost unnerving how collected you seemed in the presence of someone like him—someone so broken.

You don't know, he thought to himself. You have no idea what I’ve seen.

His eyes followed you as you sat down, the chair across from him creaking slightly under your weight. You smiled, a gentle curve of your lips that never reached your eyes. Not a fake smile, just... professional. Detached, like everything about you. But even then, there was something warm about it. Something that made him feel… different.

“Hello, Sebastian,” You said, your voice soft but steady. You crossed your legs, resting the clipboard lightly on your lap. “How are you feeling today?”

He didn’t answer. Of course, he didn’t answer. But instead of looking away like he normally did, he kept his gaze on you—just for a moment longer than he should have. There was something about the way you spoke, the way you sat there with that calm expression, your brow slightly furrowed in concern. It was different from the others. From the doctors at Urbanshade who treated him like an experiment, or the guards here who watched him with suspicion. You were present, really there, even though he gave you nothing in return.

“Today, I thought we could talk about some grounding techniques,” you continued, not fazed by his silence. “They can help when things feel overwhelming. When the memories come back, or when you start to feel like you’re not in control.”

Your voice was gentle, soothing. Not too soft, but not authoritative either. It was balanced, measured, like you’d practiced every word, every sentence, to avoid triggering a reaction in him. He knew what you were doing—he’d been studied, analyzed enough times to recognize the tactics—but it didn’t irritate him the way it normally would.

He leaned back in the chair, letting his eyes flicker to your hands as you spoke. Your fingers were long, delicate, resting lightly on the clipboard. He imagined what it would feel like if those fingers touched his skin, tracing his scars, the ones Urbanshade had left behind. Would they tremble? Would you recoil? Or would you be steady, unfazed, just like you are now?

A strange warmth spread through him at the thought, something unfamiliar. He pushed it down quickly, trying to ignore the tightness in his chest.

“I know it might be difficult to talk about things right now,” you continued, your tone softening even more, “but sometimes, even just being here, in the present moment, can be a small step forward. We don’t have to talk about Urbanshade. We don’t have to talk about anything painful.”

Your voice was like water, soothing the edges of his raw thoughts. He found himself staring at you more openly now, watching the way your lips moved, the slight tilt of your head when you were trying to find the right words. There was something about her, something that drew him in despite himself.

It wasn’t like the clinical, detached therapists he’d seen before. You weren't prodding at him with cold instruments, trying to dig into his mind. You were just there, sitting across from him, giving him space to be whoever he needed to be at that moment.

His gaze wandered up to your eyes. They were soft, focused on him, but without judgment. There was a calmness in them that made him feel… safe. He hadn’t felt that in a long time. Maybe not ever.

Sebastian’s throat tightened, and he quickly looked away, staring back down at the floor. His heart was pounding now, though he couldn’t quite explain why. It was ridiculous. He barely knew you. But something about your presence stirred something deep inside him, something he hadn’t felt in years. Something he hadn’t allowed himself to feel.

Love.

The word hit him like a brick, and he nearly scoffed at himself. A crush? On his therapist? Ridiculous. Pathetic. But the more he tried to push the thought away, the more it clung to him, like a persistent shadow.

He forced his hands to still on his lap, trying to focus on your words again. You were talking about grounding techniques, but he wasn’t listening. Not really. His attention was drawn to the way your hair fell softly around your face, the way your eyes met his with a mixture of curiosity and patience.

Why were you so calm? Why didn’t you flinch like the others had? Why didn’t you look at him like he was a monster?

His chest tightened again, and for a brief moment, he thought about speaking. About telling you that he wasn’t worth your time. That you should stop wasting your energy on someone like him. But the words wouldn’t come. They were stuck, lodged deep in his throat, weighed down by all the things he could never say.

So instead, he stayed silent, watching you as you continued to talk, your voice filling the room like a soft, soothing melody.

He hated that he felt this way. That he was letting himself feel anything at all. But every time he looked at you, every time you smiled that calm, patient smile, something inside him cracked just a little more.

And for the first time in years, he wasn’t sure he wanted to put the pieces back together.

The third session begins like the others—with silence.

You sit in your chair across from Sebastian, clipboard balanced on your knee, pen hovering just above the page. You’re used to this now, the quiet that fills the room whenever he walks in, his eyes refusing to meet yours. He’s always so distant, so closed off, as if the world outside him doesn’t exist. But today, something feels different. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but you notice it—an energy, a shift in the air that wasn’t there before.

Sebastian sits there, his body tense, arms folded tightly across his chest. His gaze is, as usual, trained on the floor. His fingers, though—those are what catch your attention. They’re tapping rhythmically against his arm, a slow, steady beat that mirrors something deeper. His hands are large, strong, but there’s a kind of fragility in the way his fingers curl in, like he’s holding himself back from reaching for something just out of sight.

You try to focus, to stay professional. You’ve been here before, with patients who wouldn’t—or couldn’t—speak. You’ve spent hours in silence, waiting for them to take that first step. This is no different. Or at least, it shouldn’t be.

But Sebastian is different.

You don’t know when you first started feeling it—the slow pull, the magnetic draw that seemed to emanate from him despite his silence. Maybe it was the way his eyes flickered ever so slightly when you spoke, or the tension in his body when you mentioned Urbanshade. But it’s more than that now. There’s a heaviness in your chest that wasn’t there before. A tension that tightens around your heart whenever you look at him.

And then, something changes.

His fingers stop their tapping. For a moment, everything is still. You sense it before you see it—the way the air shifts between you. Slowly, almost cautiously, Sebastian lifts his head. His gaze meets yours.

It’s the first time he’s looked at you—really looked at you. His eyes, dark and intense, are fixed on yours, and for a moment, the room feels smaller. The space between you shrinks, though neither of you move. The weight of his stare presses against you, heavy with something unsaid. He doesn’t speak, but the silence between you is charged, humming with an unspoken connection.

Your breath catches. There’s something in his eyes that wasn’t there before. It’s not just pain or anger or the shadows of his past. It’s something else. Something that feels dangerously close to interest, to curiosity. And for the first time, you realize that he’s watching you, studying you just as you’ve been studying him.

You swallow, trying to push down the warmth rising in your chest. You’ve always been careful, always kept a professional distance. But with Sebastian, it’s harder. It’s harder than you ever thought it would be.

“Sebastian,” you begin, your voice softer than you intended, “I know it’s difficult for you to talk. And that’s okay. We don’t have to rush anything. I’m here whenever you’re ready.”

You’re trying to sound calm, collected, but his eyes haven’t left yours. The weight of his gaze is unrelenting, as if he’s seeing through the layers of professionalism you’ve carefully built around yourself.

He doesn’t speak—he’s not ready for that—but there’s a flicker of something in his expression. Something vulnerable, something that makes your heart ache in a way you weren’t prepared for.

The tension in the room grows, thick and heavy, and yet neither of you move to break it. He doesn’t turn away this time, doesn’t retreat into his silence like before. He just… watches you, and you watch him, both of you suspended in this moment, like two people standing at the edge of something neither of you can fully understand yet.

You take a slow breath, forcing yourself to look down at your clipboard, your hand trembling slightly as you pretend to write something down. But you can still feel his gaze on you, lingering, like a touch that hasn’t quite happened yet.

This isn’t just another session anymore.

It’s something more.

And it terrifies you just as much as it draws you in.

And then he moved. Sebastian stood up from his seat, as if he was ready to leave. His actions held an unfamiliar confidence but instead of walking to the door, he took a step towards your direction, walking around the small table that seperated you.

And then he moved.

Sebastian stood up from his seat, as if he was ready to leave. His actions held an unfamiliar confidence, but instead of walking to the door, he took a step toward you, moving around the small table that separated the two of you. The room seemed to shrink as he came closer, his presence suddenly overwhelming in the confined space.

Your heart raced, confusion swirling in your chest. You opened your mouth to say something, anything, but the words lodged in your throat. He wasn’t supposed to get up—he wasn’t supposed to break the unspoken boundaries that existed between patient and therapist, between the quiet safety of this room and the darkness you both carried inside. But here he was, crossing a line, drawing nearer with each slow, deliberate step.

His eyes were locked onto yours, still dark, still unreadable, but now there was something beneath them—something that made your skin prickle with both fear and an odd sense of anticipation. Every muscle in your body tensed, as if preparing for something you couldn’t quite understand yet.

The space between you disappeared as he stood directly in front of your chair. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hands flexed at his sides. His movements were slow, calculated, and there was a strange gleam in his eyes—something dangerous.

"Sebastian…" you whispered, unsure of what was about to happen.

He didn't respond, not with words. Instead, he reached out, his hand lifting slightly as if he were about to touch you, but then paused, hovering inches from your cheek. Your breath hitched in your throat, the proximity making your pulse quicken.

For a brief moment, a flicker of fear shot through you. The way his eyes darkened, the way his fingers twitched… It felt like something was wrong, like this moment was teetering on the edge of something you couldn't control. You wondered if, maybe, he was about to lash out, to hurt you, to let the trauma and anger he carried inside finally spill over.

But then, instead of striking, his hand gently cupped your face.

The touch was startlingly tender, a stark contrast to the intensity in his gaze. His fingers brushed your skin softly, almost reverently, as if he was testing the reality of you being there, in front of him. His thumb traced the curve of your jaw, and despite yourself, you leaned into the warmth of his palm.

Your breath caught again as he leaned down, his face inches from yours. His eyes, though still intense, had softened, and the tension in the room changed. The danger, the anticipation, melted into something else entirely—something even more frightening in its vulnerability.

Sebastian’s gaze flickered to your lips, and for the briefest of moments, you saw the battle raging within him—the conflict between everything he’d endured and this sudden, raw connection with you. He wasn’t supposed to do this. Neither of you were. But the pull between you was undeniable, the boundaries crumbling beneath the weight of it.

And then, without a word, he kissed you.

It was slow, hesitant at first, as if he were afraid you might pull away. His lips were soft against yours, his hand still cradling your face with that same unexpected tenderness. The kiss deepened, and something in the room shifted again—whatever line had existed between you two was now gone, lost in that moment.

Your hands, almost instinctively, reached up to grip his shirt, pulling him closer as you kissed him back. Every ounce of fear, every question that had been running through your mind, disappeared as the kiss grew more intense. There was no need for words now, no need to explain what this meant.

In this moment, the silence between you wasn’t empty anymore—it was filled with something deeper, something far more dangerous than you’d ever imagined.

But you couldn’t pull away. Neither of you could.

For a moment, the world outside the two of you ceased to exist. The heat of his mouth, the weight of his hand on your face, the warmth of his body pressing closer—all of it consumed your senses, drowning out the rational thoughts that had once kept you grounded. You knew you should stop, knew you should pull back and remind him, remind yourself, of the rules.

But then you felt it—Sebastian’s slight retreat, as if testing the waters, his lips barely parting from yours. The absence of him was like a shock, the cool air rushing between you as he paused, his forehead resting against yours. You both lingered there for a second, just breathing each other in, his breath mingling with yours, the charged space between you humming with something neither of you dared to define.

Your heart thundered in your chest, your fingers still clutching his shirt, as if you feared letting go would shatter the fragile moment. He didn't move, waiting, watching you with those dark eyes that now seemed impossibly soft, full of a vulnerability you’d never seen before. It was in that moment you realized the thin barrier you had built, the one designed to protect your professionalism, had crumbled entirely.

You could hear your own voice inside, pleading for control, urging you to step back, but the whisper was distant and weak. The pull between you was undeniable. The heat of him, the way his body angled ever so slightly toward yours—it was magnetic, irresistible.

And then, as if on cue, you leaned up, closing the space once more, your lips meeting his again. This time, there was no hesitation. The kiss was deeper, more insistent, as if both of you had surrendered to the inevitable. His other hand found your waist, pulling you closer still, and you let him. You wanted him closer, needed him closer.

Your carefully constructed rules dissolved completely, fhe professional detachment you'd clung to for so long disappering in the face of this undeniable connection. You had spend so much time trying to remain objective, distant and now it all seemed foolish. All that mattered was this, the way he held you, the way your bodies moved together as if they were meant to.

As the weeks passed, the stolen moments between you and Sebastian grew more frequent, more intense, yet somehow quieter. The tension that had once simmered beneath the surface had given way to something gentler, something more tender. It wasn’t just about the stolen kisses anymore; it was the way his eyes softened when he looked at you, the way he would linger at the end of a session, reluctant to leave.

Sebastian had changed.

At first, his walls had been as impenetrable as ever, the therapy sessions filled with the same guarded answers, the same dark silences. But little by little, you noticed a shift. He started talking more—not much, but enough to notice. He would occasionally let slip fragments of the pain he carried, the anger that had always bubbled just beneath the surface. And when he did, his eyes would find yours, as if seeking reassurance that it was okay to let go, even just a little.

The asylum, a place that had once felt like a prison for him, became something else. His steps were lighter, his time with you less of a battle and more of a release. And though neither of you had ever spoken about what was happening between you, there was an unspoken understanding. It was dangerous, yes, but it was also necessary—something that grounded both of you in a way that nothing else could.

Sometimes, after the sessions, when the building was quiet and the dim lights cast long shadows, he would stay behind. You both would sit in the darkened room, no words exchanged, the boundary between patient and therapist blurred beyond recognition. In those moments, when the world outside was distant and the only sound was the ticking of the clock, it felt like everything was on the verge of changing again. And yet, neither of you pressed for it. The uncertainty lingered, hanging between you, a reminder of the rules you’d broken, the risks you were taking.

One evening, as the session ended and you stood by the door, he paused on his way out. He hesitated, his hand gripping the frame, as if unsure of something. He didn’t say goodbye. Instead, he turned back to you, his expression softer than you’d ever seen it.

"Thank you," he said, his voice low, barely above a whisper.

You didn't ask for what. You didn’t need to. His eyes told you everything—the progress he had made, the comfort he had found, the lines he had dared to cross. For the first time, it felt like he was no longer just surviving, but living, however uncertain that life might be.

And then, as always, he was gone, the door closing softly behind him. You stood there for a moment longer, the echoes of his presence still lingering in the room.

You knew this couldn’t go on forever. Eventually, something would have to give. The relationship you had with Sebastian—whatever it was—was unsustainable in the long term, the delicate balance you’d struck destined to unravel. But for now, in this moment, you allowed yourself to breathe, to accept that things didn’t always need to be defined, that sometimes the most important connections were the ones that defied logic and rules.

The future remained uncertain, but one thing was clear: Sebastian had found something with you—something that had softened the edges of his world, made him feel, even just a little, that he wasn’t alone in the darkness. And in return, you had found something, too—a connection that made you question the boundaries you’d built around your own heart.

Where it would lead, you didn’t know. But for now, you were both willing to wait and see.

[hiraethwa]

to be loved is to be known

zero; i was made for loving you // from a distance

<the collection — to be loved is to be known>

pairing. kageyama x reader

cw. angst to fluff, timeskip, setter!reader, one-sided pining, blasphemy, soon to be married and then divorced!reader, not very canon timeline compliant if you squint

wc. ~600

lucky is to have you. lucky is something i am not.

kageyama tobio thinks he must be born cursed. that or the gods just enjoy playing cruel pranks on him to see him flounder about and suffer as he flits around in the palm of their hands. 

because how else would one explain missing the person who he’s been waiting for by years, not just once, but twice? he swallows the feeling that is bubbling up in his throat as he watches you give him a thumbs up on the sidelines, eyes catching onto the glint of gold on your finger. 

yeah, he decides bitterly, they must be toying me for their own amusement. 

he remembers the first time he met you as clear as day, introduced by kuroo tetsuro—the gods-favored one who had been blessed not only to have the fortune of meeting you first, but also managing to claim your heart as his in the process. 

he had seen you in passing a handful of times, heard of your name on the same stage as him, your names endlessly intertwined together. as if you were two sides of the same coin despite never having properly interacted before. 

if he was being honest, he had been mildly irked at the constant comparison. the articles, doing their analysis of “genius setter kageyama tobio vs strategic setter oumae y/n”, goes on and on about your technical prowess (which is almost on par with him) and your strategic plays (purportedly better than his own), all concluding with a question—will you surpass him as japan’s best setter? 

not to mention, you are the people’s darling, all smiles and sunshine, even-tempered and ever so delightful to be around, unlike the storm that accompanies him whenever he is off court. 

though when kuroo-san personally requested for his help, he found his own curiosity piqued. considering that he is indebted to kuroo-san for all that he had done to help karasuno grow into their wings years ago, how could he reject his request?

besides, kageyama had his own questions for you. he found himself looking up replays of your games on youtube after going to one of your matches with hinata and his younger sister, mesmerized by your skills as a setter. despite the minor annoyance he had with the media, he quickly came to agree with their shallow assessment.

“oumae y/n, nice to meet you.” your words were polite, that dazzling smile that wins everyone over to your side making its first appearance. “i’ve been dying to meet you since i saw you play a couple of years ago. your precise sets are a work of art, and i’m sure you’ve been told this, your serves are godly.”

somehow you almost, almost remind him of oikawa tooru, if not for the sincerity behind your words, the stark contrast to oikawa-san’s habitual disingenuous tone. 

despite himself, a faint smile made its way onto his face—one of many, many more that you will pull out of him in time. 

“i’ve heard some things, but godly, that’s a first.” and you had fucking beamed at him like a bright sunny day, like a fan meeting their idol for the first time. he supposes that it was exactly that, if you had been following him for a while. 

you went on to pepper him with questions about his serve, showing him how you do it, and asking him to correct your form.

he wishes he could chalk it all up to falling in love at first sight. at least then he would have been able to blame it all on illogical emotions that do not have a basis for why he fell for someone who is taken. 

but the gods do not favor kageyama tobio, for they curse him so, bestowing the fate of koi no yokan upon him—what was supposed to be a magical feeling of knowing that you are meant to fall for them inevitably, with a cruel twist just for him. 

and he knows, fuck the gods, he knows more than senses the light flutter of his dormant heart awakening to you. 

taglist. @hatsukeii @daisy-room @soulfullystarry @kitsune-kita @bakery-anon (open! ask for taglist)

a/n. might have lost my mind writing lovesick tobio but it was worth it <3

awaiting updates? browse the library while waiting

if you liked this, please consider leaving a like, comment, rb or ask <3 (perhaps i enjoy hearing about how i break hearts a little too much)

[strrykais]

control alt + love [k.seung smau]

12. balls to the face

"here are your maps, and walkies. we split up in twos, felix and jeongin you head to crow nest, jisung and changbin head to the junkyard." seungmin says looking at the guys.

"minho are you okay with hanging out in the tower at the capital? we need a high vantage point of our flag." he says pointing at the map staring at minho as he nods. "okay chan is staying with the flag defending, ill head to the fort raptor, when you spot their flag don't engage, call for back up."

“remember jongho and mingi are their best shooters so be mindful when you are in open areas, their shots are nasty and accurate. wooyoung is our best bet in capturing if we want to win.” felix says glancing around at the team. everyone gives nods.

“hongjoong and seonghwa arent the best shots but they are fast and good at hand to hand combat to be careful.” minho says looking at jisung.

“whats that look for?” jisung scoffs. “why are they good at this thing?”

“this is how they team bond they do it like once a month with their staff. seungmin and I join from time to time.” minho tells jisung. “dude you literally came to one of these.”

"what about me?" you say side stepping behind minho raising your hand before the two of them could continue.

"you are with me." seungmin says looking at the walkies making sure they are on the right channel. "okay that's everything, remember stay hidden and don't get shot."

you watch as the team disperse seungmin still continuing to look at the map. you walk up next to him trying to glance over his shoulder.

"shorty you are too close. i can feel you on my back." he says glancing over his shoulder

"oh sorry" you say stepping back only for him to turn around walking to you, you slowly step back more but seungmin continues to step at you completely blocking you in when your back hits a tree trunk.

"what are you doing? aren't we supposed to head to fort raptor." you say avoiding eye contact glancing around him.

"im going to fort raptor, you on the other hand, well depends on how you answer this." seungmin says pressing his gun into your lower stomach.

"you gonna shoot me? are you being for real? whats up with this damn team and not having their teammates back?" you say huffing out.

"listen yn, one thing my team does is have each others back. im sorry that the little game you and jeongin were playing didnt go the way you want, but there is something you need to learn and im gonna teach you." seungmin says leaning in, the barrel of the gun digging deeper into your stomach.

"and what is that exactly?" you say trying to seem more cool than you were feeling inside. you couldn't exactly understand what is going on but your heart was racing and you felt like your breathing was erratic.

"teamwork. i know its hard to be heard because you are new, and a girl so you feel like you have to shout. but we, your teammates arent the ones you need to be shouting at. we had your back the moment felix picked you. we had to fight tooth and nail to get hq to even accept the idea of letting a girl on the team. i also understand friends fight its a normal thing to bicker especially with us living together. but what you won't do is belittle your teammates on live game play like that ever again. jeongin can be a lot, trust me i know the kid for 3 years, but sometimes you gotta be the bigger person and either ignore it or talk it out. i don't care that we lost because i knew it. but your fight didn't just effect you and him. it was effecting everyone. your game style change to a selfish one and minho and jisung had to pick up the slack you were pulling. and whatever they couldn’t keep up with, changbin had too pick it up. you caused a chain reaction. do you understand what im trying to say."

seungmin steps back when he notices you havent said anything, lifting your head you stare right at him.

"you are right im sorry, it won't happen again."

"you are right, it won't because ill bench you." he says turning around walking away.

you giggle out at his joke, only for you to stop when you notice he isnt laughing.

"wait you arent serious about benching me?" you say grabbing your gun and calling out after him. seeing him give you a little smirk and a shrug he continues to walk.

"hurry shorty we are behind schedule."

previous | masterlist | next

a/n : i apologize for the lack in updates.. lwk been having writers block but we are SO BACK ALSO SEUNGMIN CRUMBS when the slow burn is fr a slow burn.... :( how excited are we to have this ball rolling??

tags: @onlyhyunjin @15092000volcano @chenlesfavorite @hippopotamusdreamer @vegetablesarefuntables @soondoongdoriii @jeonginplsholdmyhand @nappynapnaps @sincerely-sun @staytinyluv @kimseungminpabo @seungzsmin @sweetasmarie @hinanitiram @tricky-ritz @ayyonoona @hanniemylovelyquokka @toplinehyunjin @missystay @binniesbabe @tirena1 @jihoons-kitten @skz-ot8-stay @darlingz99 @khandzilla @icouldntcareless22 @rihaee @kikieatsfood23 @hvnverse

[featherdixon]

aftercare / daryl x mute!reader

summary: after spending a night with your boyfriend, you need to tell him how much you love him during aftercare. but the only problem is that you can't.

warnings: daryl x reader, mute!reader, fluff, kisses, sightly angst, aftercare, mentions of sex (they just had it ♡).

words count: 880.

taglist: @negansbestie & @vaniniweenie / if you want me to add you, just let me know!

You pulled a thin cotton sheet over your bare skin. Its softness embraced your legs, just as it did your arms. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath, and when you opened them, the darkness was gently pierced by the faint glow of fragile stars. Your body was still unraveling all the emotions—your lips, swollen and tasting faintly of him, your hands still feeling as though they were intertwined with his. Deep inside, an ache settled in the space he left behind.

Your hazelnut-colored hair spread across the pillow, and in a flash, you remembered something that made your cheeks burn—how he loved to grab it, pull it, in the heat of the moment. In a world where sound had been stolen from you, every sensation became sharper, a pleasure heightened when it was him who provided it.

Daryl sat at the edge of the bed, framed by the window, bathed in the soft light of the stars, as if they clung to him like dragonflies to a flower. You smiled, feeling a slight pull at the corners of your mouth, the happiness you felt by his side so immense it almost hurt.

What you admired most about him was how he embraced silence, turning it into a safe place. He rarely spoke, even though he knew you could read his lips; instead, he always tried to use his hands. A month after meeting you, he found a book to teach himself sign language, just so he could tell you one thing.

"I want to teach you how to use a bow." He could’ve communicated it more easily, but he wanted to learn your language. Soon after, he started using his new skills to warn you of danger or to tell you he’d brought food. Everything he did was genuine; they were little details he had for you because his heart guided him. That made your heart tell you to love him.

You had never been this lucky before.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and you wiped it away before he could notice. The same finger that caught your tear traced the scars along Daryl’s back. He turned his head slowly, catching your gaze. Every time you were together, he would ask if you’d enjoyed it, if there was anything he could do differently, or if you wanted more. That last question was always the hardest, because there was no reality in which you wouldn’t want more of him.

You parted your lips, trying to form a word. It had been years since you’d attempted this. You knew it was impossible; sound was a world closed off to you, but it still felt unfair not being able to tell him you loved him. Daryl turned gently when he realized what you were trying to do, placing his warm hand on your cheek.

Your throat ached from the effort. Heat surged there, yet no sound would come. You felt helpless, overwhelmed by the pain of not being able to express how much he made you feel. Daryl picked up the book to refresh his memory, and it broke your heart even more. He spent hours learning your language, while you couldn’t speak a word of his.

"Is something wrong?" he asked, his gray eyes searching yours. You pressed your lips together because you didn't wanted to be in tears.

"Nothing," you signed with your right hand, though your heart ached. You sat up in bed, letting the sheet fall from your torso.

Daryl moved closer, placing his lips gently on your bare shoulder. is touch made you shiver, and his lips were as soft and warm as ever. Before he could pull away, you reached for him, bringing your mouth to his, deepening the kiss, letting your tongue savor the taste of him. You wanted him to understand everything you couldn’t say. He wasn’t expecting that boldness and gently pulled back.

Before he could speak, you moved your hand swiftly.

"I just wanted to tell you I love you." Daryl blinked, staring into your eyes.

"You’ve been telling me all night," he replied softly. A wave of embarrassment washed over you as you lay back down. He didn’t hesitate to move over you, his lips tracing delicate patterns on your neck, collarbone, shoulder, and down to your stomach. He always lingered there, he loved leaving kisses on your belly.

He lifted his head slightly, and you tenderly caressed the scar beneath his eye.

"I wish I could say it out loud..." You traced the words with your lips, and he understood them instantly, without even looking at your hand. He dragged his lower lip from your belly button to the mole near your most sensitive spot. You ran your fingers through his hair, feeling your heart open wide.

He moved back up to kiss you, and you glanced at his hand.

"I love you," he signed. You smiled, mirroring the same sign back to him.

He lay beside you, and you rested your head on his chest. Even if the words would never be spoken, together you had created a language of touches, signs, and kisses that no one could break. You hoped with all your heart that your future daughter would be able to say those words for you—words you would have shouted a thousand times for this man you loved.

[r0-boat]

Hello there! Can i request a Lycaon nsfw with a fem neko reader?

if its not too much trouble, maybe like a slight prey/predictor with some biting??

Von Lycaon Headcannons with a Cat Thiren!S/O

Von Lycaon x Fem!Reader. Hi I went a little crazy...

Cw: Nsfw, biting, size kink, knotting, heats/Rutts, predator/prey, breeding.

You're so small. So tiny and cute, Lycaon always catches himself staring at you, and he must desperately pull himself away. But this is normal. It is usual for Von Lycaon to be so enamored with you that he's practically attached to you by the hip. However, recently, it's been different. Some kind of scent clinging to you makes him drool; it's sweet yet savory, faint yet strong. When it hits his nose, he gets dizzy and wants more. He could feel himself beginning to salivate at the delectable scent, which he had to stop himself from doing. He can't be drooling on the job or in front of you.

The urges bubbling up inside him are beginning to scare him. The images of your tail wrapping around his hand as he pulls your body into him, His big hand gently petting your small ear before choking you while he makes you scream on his cock. Making you mew and cry out when he sinks his teeth into your body is as clear as crystal.

He's always had thoughts about having you underneath him, like any man would. But this wasn't just sexual desire. It was more than that something primal and deep, something that turned him into more of an animal. He's always taken pride in self-control but now, every time he looks at you, he wants to throw it all away.

He understands now; He has been on his own suppressants for as long as he can remember; maybe that's why he's having such a primal reaction to your scent. He was so careless to avoid you. He's still holding back even now as you knew and beg him to touch you, fuck you. This tail is wagging, and he's drooling, but he's still gentle as he asks you if you're sure. You just want his knot inside you, and you command him to claim you. "As you wish," He growls as he takes you into the sheets, grabbing you full force to manhandle your body. Fully letting go of all restraint.

He feels terrible for trying to avoid you, But he feels like that. He's almost at his limit, And he is scared of what he might do to you if he slips even once. But you had other plans, feeling the heat in your core bubble over. You needed him more than ever since your first heat is in forever. It's going to hit you like a truck, and you need him.

Sure, the two of you had sex before, but this was different. Von Lycaon was always a gentleman in and out of bed making sure to treat you like glass. Which you loved however, this is not what you needed. Every Thiren knows that heat/rut sex is very different from the regular thing.

His big hands grab at your wrists; His red eyes glaze down at you like a piece of steak. You could hardly even recognize him in this desperate and feral state, and you loved it.

He has full control over your body, moving you like a rag doll until his naked hips are against yours. His hard monstrous cock is ready to penetrate you with force. You're already so wet from your heat. He doesn't need to prep you. Part of him doesn't even want to.

Your tiny cunt squeezes around his massive knotted cock as you hear him pant incoherent words, "Fill you up." "Mine." "So perfect." He growls about his big knot filling you up as he digs his teeth into your shoulder, his claws digging into your hips as he forces you deeper, causing you to take his knot.

Feeling you milk his cock with every vise grip squeeze your calm coating his cock; von Lycaon howls as you feel spurt after spurt of pent-up cum.

He's still coming even after the two of you finish. Who knows how long he needed this? Even as you lay there, Your heat satisfied, for now, he's not done his knot deflates, but his cock is still hard. He holds you close to his chest, letting out a whimper as he mutters in your ear, "I-I feel it... My rut, why is it here? "

[pressureplus]

HEYA HELLO HI

first, i want to genuinely thank you guys for the account's existence and your hard work. reading through the posts is often the highlight of my bleak days, and im immensely grateful for you providing those moments of joy :]

SECOND UH ID LIKE TO ORDER A SPECIFIC KINDA HEADCANONS LIST IF NO ONE MINDS AND IT HASN'T BEEN WRITTEN ALREADY ALRIGHT YEAH

a nonbinary reader who is pretty similar to Seb's stubborn, independent and sassy persona but WOMP WOMP, they're suddenly head over heels for him. NEITHER WANTS TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE FEELINGS (aka "HE'S FUCKING MARRIED, IT'S NOT MUTUAL AND IM BUSY WITH NOT DYING, BUT I CANT GET HIM OUT OF MY HEAD" & "I HAVE A WIFE AND THEY'RE JUST SOME EXPENDABLE BASTARD, GET OVER IT, SOLACE"). the distracting, unnecessary, painful pining. how do both cope and who's gonna break first? and most importantly, is either gonna throw their ego and rationality out the window to confess despite the fear of looking pathetic?

oooof i hope it's not too much and it's not breaking any rules. thank you in advance if you find it interesting enough for writing! :D

Awww, thanks so much! Although I should make it very clear the wife in question will remain vague and is NOT BASED ON ANYONE! Thanks for the request ❤️

♡Married! Sebastian Solace x NB! Similar! Reader Headcannons♡

Warnings: Sebastian is Married and Y/N is technically an Affair Partner

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He had found you interesting from the moment you opened your mouth and got sassy with him, mostly because most people don't have the balls to do it

Despite finding this slightly irritating, he also found it refreshing, so he didn't immediately shoot you if only for his own entertainment

A terrible mistake he'd soon find out

He developed some definitely unhealthy feelings the first time one of your comebacks had an almost flirtatious undertone

It was an accident on your part, but it got him thinking

He was a married man fawning quietly over you, how awful is that?

I mean of course he’s flashed the wedding band, and of course he's mentioned his wife when others flirt with him, but that doesn't change his feelings

If you flirted with him, would he really reject you?

Could he?

He hadn't known the touch of his wife in years, the softness of her hands, the warmth of her kisses

After everything that's happened he couldn't even remember her name. He should be able to remember his wifes name right?

Does he really even care about her? Does he love her now? Did he love her then?

It comes with an odd sense of guilt he doesn't like to look at. Especially when you do something that makes his heart flutter.

You, on the other hand, probably didn't develop any real feelings until he actually saved your ass.

You'd been running for your life and he’d snatched you up and into the vents, tossing you easily into his shop and shutting it behind you

His gaze transfixed on said vent, a hand on his gun. Something about him choosing to save your life while also putting up with your attitude was a little attractive…

Okay, insanely attractive

Sure, Sebastian’s guilt for being attracted to you is bad, but so is yours

You’re attracted to a married man who has absolutely gushed about his wife in front of you before. Even if it was only because someone tried to get a little flirty, what does that matter?

Honestly the mutual attraction makes it hard for you both to focus

Everything about that man is intoxicating, his smile, his laugh, his attitude. Can you really be judged for this?

Neither of you can focus on anything but each other whenever you’re both in a room.

It’s led to Sebastian getting surprised whenever another person buys something off him because he had no idea anyone else was in here

Its also led to you freaking out whenever one of the other expendable touches your shoulder without you having realized anyone was standing behind you

You hide it well…at least you hope you do?

The longing glances and quiet staring on both sides is unbearable though

Especially considering you’re both making those dolly eyes at each other, batting lashes and daydreaming

It’s cute but it’s also incredibly wrong of you two and you’re painfully aware of it

No amount of sharing food and acting like it’s not a date will make it less of a date

He’s already long since decided that he’s going to offer you come with him so you both can leave together

And though neither of you will have the heart to confess for quite a while, I think he’d do it on your way out. Something about you almost dying when you both escape makes him desperate to tell you how he really feels

When that ‘I think I’m in love with you’ slips out while he’s bandaging your arm that’s been cut by glass, how can you refuse?

Especially when you’re in love with him too?

He’ll toss that ring into the ocean once you reach the surface, his wife never loved him like you did anyway

[amarayys]

DRDT episode 13 theory. So.

so i was meant to be making a general episode 13 analysis video. but um. i dont have the energy for that. so what am i gonna do instead? TALK ABOUT TERUKO try find out wtf david is doing in this scene

SO. time to find out what possibly the FRUITIEST look ever from david means!!! disclaimer:

I suck at theories. And formatting. Yipee.

I'm painfully unfunny so excuse any dumbass jokes i make.

I'm going to find any and all excuses to rant abt teruko. be prepared...............

4. I may repeat myself a lot. Forgive me if it sounds really repetative... :( 5. Any points surrounded by - these things - are just things that are unlikely, but I think should still be adressed.

So, the context of these images is Teruko revealing "her secret"; You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them.

(pls excuse the shitty quality.) She has to be either lying or MAYBE unsure about her secret. Here's why: 1. She had a conversation with Whit (and technically charles, but he was just listening in) about her family. She reveals that she's never known her parents and grew up in an orphanage. She did grow up with her biological brother, but he was adopted by another family when Teruko was five, and she says she doesn't remember him much.

2. The wording of the secret is quite specific - You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. Like I've mentioned, she's never known her parents. Even if she *somehow* knew they were dead, why would she blame herself for it? I could see it maybe working in some way, but the next bit disproves it - SIBLINGS. Teruko has only mentioned having one sibling, and this wording is plural. This secret cannot be hers, she only has one brother. - To add on to this

2.5. Maybe one could argue that siblings and parents could be her friends/people she considered family in the orphanage she grew up in. However, the specific wording of parents and siblings, instead of just using the word "family", makes me think otherwise. - Okay, so let's dissect what this means. - I think if maybe she was unaware/TRULY thought that this was her secret, the only point that would support it is 2.5. Maybe she considered people she grew up with in the orphanage her "parents" or siblings", but its just not very likely. While I wouldn't be surprised if Teruko blew up an orphanage or something (/hj) , I think it's a stretch to say this secret is referring to that. - With that out the way, we come to one conclusion - Teruko is lying about secret. "Amari, we know that already, can we move on??????????" yeah yeah whatever i may have just wanted to rant about teruko. MOVING ON. So, what is Teruko's secret? It's pretty wildly agreed upon that Teruko's secret is the one regarding the killing game, which David recieved - "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault."

We think that this is Teruko's secret because: 1. She's the only one that fits it smh. /hj 2. The guy at the start of the prologue (who is probably xander but that is a WHOLE other theory you can find here ) mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki (how DARE they) after talking about ending the killing game.

My interpretation of this is that Teruko is the reason the killing game is actually happening, though I doubt she's aware of this/the mastermind (or she could be, idk??). A really good theory that I feel explains what I mean by Teruko causing the KG but not being the mastermind is the time loop theory which is linked here. (accirax i love you for this theory /p) Obviously, this lines up with "The killing game is your fault." 3. David gives her THE LOOK right after she "admits" her secret, which sort of maybe kind of implies that he knows she's lying, which he does, since he has the secret. - As for the remaining secret: Xander's secret (which we assume min recieved) is the one Teruko claimed to have:

"You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Why do I think this? 1. In Xander's bonus video, it is VERY heavily implied that he has survivor's guilt as well as outright confirmed his family is dead. Go check it out for the full context.

2. Xander's secret message on the DRDT tumblr is the definition of survivors guilt. Really self explanatory, huh?

3. XANDER ACTUALLY HAS MORE THAN 1 FUCKING SIBLING. anyway. okay, this is getting a little confusing to remember, so here: Killing game: Teruko's secret, recieved by David. Survivor's guilt: Xander's secret, recieved by Min. (all remaining secrets remain the same.) MOTIVE

So, why would Teruko lie about her secret? I mean, shouldn't she just point it out? And why didn't David point it out? - 1. Teruko is aware that her secret is the killing game one and is lying because she's the mastermind or something. We see her thoughts, so I really doubt it. To further disprove this theory: Teruko has stated like 15 times (/ex) that she doesn't know which secret is hers, due to her having too many secrets. So, yeah, pretty unlikely she knows which secret's hers. Discard this theory. -

2. a) Teruko doesn't know her secret, but knows it's probably bad, and therefore doesn't want to share it, so she lied. Pretty straightforward, really. Now, for the theory that I think is most likely: 3. Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again.

We know that's she's accidentally led the trial in the wrong direction twice now (motive secrets, time of murder) Also, this is the most in character.

As for David: A. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to cause distrust and just generally fuck Teruko over. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. B. David knows her secret, but earlier, he and Teruko made a pact to keep it hidden. However, since he's a little bitch boy (/j), he's going to reveal it anyway, either post trial or in a future daily life. - Just to add on to this point ^ - I know Teruko's protag and we see her thoughts and all, but Kaede happened, so I don't think this is out of the question. - I think the most likely combination is point 3. and point A. : Teruko's lying about her secret to avoid the trial heading off topic. David isn't calling her out because he wants to use it in the future to throw suspicion onto Teruko and cause havoc.

SO. Let's recap! Secrets: Teruko: "How could I even select what secret to be your motive? Just about everything you've done in your life is worth killing for. The killing game is all your fault." Received by David. Xander: "You're constantly blaming yourself for the death of your parents and siblings. It doesn't matter that it's not your fault, just that you didn't go with them." Received by Min. Rest remain the same as canon. Why can't Teruko's secret be about her family? 1. Teruko never knew her parents, and never mentions them being dead. 2. Teruko hasn't seen her brother since she was 5, and she never mentions him being dead, just adopted. 3. The wording of the secret refers to siblingS, which is plural. Teruko has only one sibling. 4. The secret fits Xander much better - His secret quote is the defintion of survivors guilt, and his bonus episode heavily implies he has survivors guilt, and it is confirmed his family died in the same bonus episode. Why is Teruko's secret about the killing game?

• The guy at the start of the prologue mentions having to kill Teruko Tawaki after talking about ending the killing game. This implies Teruko is the cause of the killing game, whether on purpose or not. Motive for lying: Teruko doesn't know which secret is hers, but she knows neither of her secrets are the ones left unrevealed. She knows somebody is lying about a secret - but she's come to the conclusion that secrets are irrelevant to the trial and murder, so she's lying about her secret to avoid everyone getting off track once again. David knows her secret, but keeps it hidden in order to use it in the future to turn everyone against Teruko and just generally cause distrust in the group. He plans to reveal it either post trial or in a future daily life. **btw, just a fun afterthought - i think either whit or charles will eventually point out the conversation regarding teruko's unbringing and how it contradicts her secret - and david will use that opportunity to reveal teruko's secret. ANDDDD that's it! feel free to correct/add on any points you'd like. this took AGES but i had so much fun!!! i love you drdt. (ESPECIALLY TERUKO.)

[howlsofbloodhounds]

TW: SENSITIVE TOPICS??

Because Color canonically almost died. (if it weren't for Gaster having to pick up the broken pieces that were left of him when trying to escape the void) do you think Color would be this desperate and suicidal for freedom? Has he gained his kindness to save Killer from knowing how it feels to be caged in pits of despair and darkness?

-COUGHZ.. one of your mutuals:3 (GUESS WHICH ONE!!)

i cannot guess because i cannot handle being publicly wrong and also embarrassed ever. /hj

but i am also not good at remembering moot names except for a few, and also i have a moot with a typing quirk where the ‘s’ in words are replaced with Z’s. Like thiz. so that stands out.

but i can only think of 3 moots rn who talk about color as much as i do (theres probably more but these r all i can remember). those are Ozzie, toffee, and ano. but i ultimately have no way of knowing 😔. I don’t appreciate being put on the spot like this, anon. /lh

and i dont think he gained kindness from this exactly, but rather his experience gave him first hand understanding of the feelings—he can tell when someone is only doing or saying they want something because it’ll appease others, convincing themselves they want it too, and so that makes everything okay.

i think he is always pretty kind, even without understanding something or someone, but his understanding and his perseverance and patience in trying to understand is what stands out to killer particularly. his kindness also stands out a lot too, but so does the sense of intense injustice color feels on his behalf.

so i think its a mix of personal understanding, perseverance in trying to understand when he fails to initially, kindness, and his sense of justice (such as his belief that another’s autonomy should always be respected and protected) that spurs him into trying to find a right way to approach killer. his bravery to keep trying and integrity are spurred on by the more he starts to understand, and relate.

so i think that even if color couldn’t personally relate, he’d still try to save killer—because he can see how it feels, all over his face. he can see how his words do not match his actions do not match his facial expressions. but it’s because he knows how it feels, has experience with it, that he gets anywhere with killer at all. because that understanding signaled safety for stage 1.

which was another big hang up killer had with swap—that swap didn’t, couldn’t, know what he feels, despite how swap claimed to know how killer “doesn’t want this” and “wants to saved.”

because how in the world could swap know these things about killer, when he himself doesn’t even know what he wants. color understands this, and how it feels—and he doesn’t approach killer from a “i know what’s good for you” angle.

he’s able to see that killer doesn’t truly want what he says he does in Stage 2 (that he’s not happy with what he currently has and what he currently does, despite all his claims about the fun he’s having and the player wants it so he wants it, and how nightmare “asked” him to, and he wants this he wants this and every single rational he can come up with that’ll make it all okay and something he chose to do rather than something he couldn’t even say no to) and he attempts to get him to admit that and be honest with himself for once, but he doesn’t ever say killer has to do this, or do that, or think this. just that he should stop hurting himself for others—something color knows all too well.

it is killer that asks to be saved, because he wants to be. and he tells color this because he can tell that color understands—which is also probably the reason why killer kept trying to push him away.

why he keeps pushing him away in stage 2–because killer definitely wouldn’t like someone trying to understand him when he’s like that. his whole thing is trying to remain unpredictable, and not give anyone any power or control over him—especially not over his mind.

he just needs awhile to realize and trust that color has no intentions to cause him harm, and isn’t trying to hurt him by “taking away” what he knows and rather it is what he knows that is hurting him.

Alexa, play Hey Ya! by OutKast.

off topic, but i love that color never rushed killer to make any type of choice—just was there to help, support, and challenge him. make him aware how the situation he’s in now isn’t helping him at all and it doesn’t have to be that way, that theres always something new out there and he’s willing to show him—however long it takes, whenever he’s ready, if killer ever wants it. that this life isn’t the only option left available to him.

[seaofreverie]

Sparkstember Day 18: Balls (Bullet Train)

Sometimes (oftentimes) it's true that all you need are Balls. I personally absolutely love Balls. I'm a big fan! Ekhem. Today I'm using the help of (I mean, copying most of the passages from it) my earlier Balls rant that I have written down after my first listen of it back in January. I really love this album and I don't want to completely skip over saying a couple words on it at least but I really don't think I have the headspace to write anything very good for it today. I'll still try though!

So yeah, Balls. It's a great album, fun and chill (in my sense of what I call and consider chill anyway), consistent, as Sparks albums tend to be, and as I suspected / hoped it does fit this specific vibe of driving around at night somewhere city-like and illuminated. Or being on a train deep at night and looking at the world zooming by (if you'd even see much of it on a train at night anyway.....). And I do think that it's not so dissimilar to Gratsax (I'd say now that it's definitely darker and moodier than its predecessor...). So it's interesting to think about how it's considered to be one of the "weak" ones (by music reviewers at least) while Gratsax is so beloved in comparision.

I will admit, I don't really know what the big problem with this album could be. As I said, it's fun, it has the melodies, it has the energy, it has the theatricality (I like seeing how more and more orchestral instruments such as strings are being incorporated into the music, in a way the jump into Lil' Beethoven two years later doesn't come of as THAT much of a shock because of this. The evolution of sound here is fascinating!) I really like the intense beats, just as much as the more laid-back and moodier pieces. And there's lots of gold to be found in the lyrics department as always.

One more thing I wanna say is that at some point I wondered if this music sounds older than it is. Maybe it does? But then I remembered that this was 2000 and honestly when I think about it, there just IS something about this album that fits so well with the Y2K image and vibe and all. Sparks 2000 and all that.

Favourite songs (and other highlights):

Balls: I mean. It's Balls.

Scheherazade: absolutely LOVE this one and I had the strangest impression of it sounding very familiar when I first heard it. Months later I found out that it was just briefly featured in TSB so I think that explains it (I will talk more about my TSB viewings on TSB day. EVERYTHING has to be explained in excruciating detail, lmao)

The Calm Before The Storm: bugsonas 4ever. Song itself is amazing too

How To Get Your Ass Kicked: how can a song about getting your ass kicked be so pleasant and relaxing, it always keeps cracking me up, how perfect that is actually

Bullet Train: I love it how introducing the topic of the song with a "It's the [topic of the song]" is a reoccurring theme on this album. Thank you Sparks for this ode to technology and art (these lyrics always have me giggling). And also it just goes hard as heck

It's Educational: a perfect fusion of / sequel to I Thought I Told You To Wait In The Car and Progress (it's mostly the vocal delivery that reminds me of the latter)

The Angels: such an odd one here but I still like it a lot, I apparently said that it sounds "surprisingly mainstream for Sparks but somehow in a positive way". It's very sweet and I absolutely love how Russell sings here, it's so different from what we're used to but that only makes it hit you even more in the feels, lol. And I actually prefer the alternative version of this song that's featured as a bonus track, and I do think that's in big part because you can hear Russell better on it (or that was my first impression of it at least and it kind of stuck)

[desired-misery]

BOW!Leon WIP | Luis's POV

An unlikely ally in Luis’s trying-to-comfort-a-BOW-because-it's-the-right-thing-to-do plan is one of the BSAA’s own soldiers. One of the soldiers who encountered 537 in the field, actually. Lieutenant Piers Nivans, second in command of Alpha team. Luis finds Nivans watching 537 over the lunch break, curiously peering at the computer monitor to see 537 inside its crate (which it had returned to and not moved from since the crate was put back inside its enclosure, proving the attempt to teach 537 the floor was safe was a failure).

Nivans— he insisted Luis not use his rank— is very interested in BOWs in a more academic way than Luis would have expected from one of the BSAA’s top soldiers, especially from Alpha team, which Luis knows is deployed to eliminate BOWs all the time. Frankly, Luis is surprised that Alpha team didn’t shoot 537 on sight. He asks Nivans about that decision.

“It’s really weird, but it wasn’t attacking us. It was doing exactly that, so we left it alone.” Nivans points to 537 through the one-way glass. “I’ve never seen a BOW be calm, you know? I thought it was just an animal at first, like a leopard or something. Didn’t feel right to shoot something that was minding its own business, so we just closed the door to the room and moved on.”

. .. ... .. . It is a brutal, callous thought, but it is scientifically interesting that 537 could even be taught to be ‘calm’ as Nivans put it. Nivans is thinking along the same lines, though, because he suddenly looks even more interested.

“Have you guys ever trained a BOW before?”

Luis frowns. “No.”

Nivans tilts his head. “Do you want to try?”

Luis stabs a finger at the paused video on his tablet screen. “That’s cruel, I won’t let anyone—”

“You know zoos train their animals, right? Their dangerous animals, including lions and reptiles. It’s possible— straightforward, probably, as long as the animal has the capacity to learn, which 537 clearly has.” Nivans pauses, looks Luis over. “Do you have anyone on the team who has experience with training dogs?”

“Why would we have someone on the research team with that expertise?” Normally, BOWs are pretty single-minded. If awake and aware, they are either trying to destroy or trying to produce more of themselves. The only time Luis has heard of anyone having any sort of progress ‘training’ a BOW is with Nemesis— but those were human, so it was more about preserving enough of the mind and brain to allow tasks to be remembered and completed.

“I could teach you how to do it, if you’re serious.” Nivans offers like Luis doesn’t already have a full time job. “I’ve helped train MWDs— uh, military working dogs. It’s actually pretty fun.”

“Why don’t you do it yourself?”

Nivans shrugs. “I don’t really have much free time usually, but I guess I could for a little while. Until we’re moved onto another assignment.”

“If you think that could be helpful,” Nivans adds.

“I don’t know what good it would do, to be honest. What do you think we could train it to do?” Luis asks.

Nivans watches 537 pretending to sleep inside of its too small crate. “I don’t know. Maybe it’s really smart?”

“That would be fascinating to discover,” Luis says. “But I think 537 is owed at least the understanding that it can have the whole room to itself.”

Nivans nods. “Let me talk to my captain.” 

[lucagray813]

Solid Friendship

Rating: Gen

Word Count: 1,071

Main Characters: Wukong, Macaque

Relationships: Macaque & Wukong, Could be interpreted as Shadowpeach

Summary: The Monkey King has a peculiar friend that only he can see - it's about time he did something about that.

Additional Tags: First meeting, pre-canon

CW: None

Link to AO3 Version

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It was a well known fact that the Monkey King was a peculiar character and as beloved as he was to his subjects even they couldn't understand all his eccentricities. For example, for as long as anyone could remember he had always had a habit of striking up one sided conversations with the shadows.

Many dismissed this as just his incessant need to talk and paid it no mind. Although if asked he would insist he wasn't talking to the shadows he was talking to whoever resided within them. If he could, he would have proven his conversations were not entirely one sided.

But his friend was apparently very shy, only warping the shadows to communicate when no-one else was around to see it. Or perhaps they were a bit of a trickster, like himself, and took great delight in having everyone think he was mad. They did have a strange sense of humour but still they made him laugh like no-one else.

They weren't always with him but all he needed to do was call for them and they would be there in an instant. In fact, he didn't even need to call, only the faintest whisper was required.

One day he sat with the sun behind him so his shadow was cast on the tall rock in front of him as he mused over his mysterious friend. Despite how little he knew about them he loved them dearly - they were his loyalist companion, his most trustworthy confidant and critically were able to keep up on all of his adventures.

He called out to them and in a heartbeat his shadow had warped ever so slightly to have eyes and a mouth - one of his friend's favourite tricks.

He wasted no time, "I have a question, Shadow. Are you always like this?" He gestured to his curious shadow before waving a hand down his body, "Or do you have a body like this somewhere? Or, not exactly like mine but you get what I'm saying."

The shadow shook its head.

"No, you're not always like this or no, you don't have a body? Oh right, one question at a time! Do you have a body?"

Negative.

"Don't you want one?"

They tilted their head as if they didn't understand.

He tried to explain, "Well, think of all the things you'd be able to do if you had a body! Swinging through trees, eating fruit, feeling the summer sun, having your fur groomed - you can't do any of that right now, right?"

Negative.

"You're missing out on so much stuff hanging out in the shadows! Just think of the adventures we could go on if you were out here with me! Then you wouldn't have to get all upset when you can't help."

He thought they looked tempted but inevitably they shrugged as if to say "what can you do".

He stood abruptly and held out a hand, "Well obviously you just have to come out! C'mon, take my hand!"

They frowned and while they were clearly trying to do something in response to his impossible request, all they could do was make the shadows cast on his hands a little darker. They shook their head hopelessly but he wasn't deterred.

He placed a hand on his shadow, "Don't worry, I'll help! We just need to meet in the middle! You think solid thoughts and I'll do the opposite - and once I've got your hand I'll pull you out!"

Despite their doubtful expression they did seem to be concentrating hard on where his hand lay on the rock. He made sure to focus just as intently and after a moment he felt his hand sink ever so slightly and he laughed joyously, "We're doing it! C'mon, keep going! Grab my hand!"

While whatever touched his hand in response could scarcely be described as solid, it was with certainty that he firmly grasped it and pulled. Something was definitely emerging and it glowed a vivid violet. Victory no doubt at hand he squeezed his eyes shut and focused on pulling it with all of his might.

He was unprepared for his success to have him stumble backwards and tumble to the ground but any aches or pains were quickly forgotten as he looked up to see a bewildered monkey standing before him.

He jumped up, excitement coursing through him as he exclaimed, "You look like me!"

His friend seemed to still be trying to come to grips with the fact he now had a solid form, he stared fascinated at his hands as he clenched and unclenched them. He started moving various joints as if to check what they did and then he said, "I have a body...?"

His hands flew to his mouth, "I have a voice!"

He looked at the Monkey King with awe and wonder and it was an expression that he would never get tired of having directed at him. He grinned widely, "You sure do! You got a name to go with them?"

"A name...? I... No?"

He started to circle his friend, picking up his arms, pulling lightly at his tail and redirecting his head so he could look at him at all angles before he took a step back and proudly declared, "Your name is the Six Eared Macaque."

The Six Eared Macaque simply blinked at him for a moment before he brought his hands to the sides of his head and looked shocked to feel he indeed had six ears, "Why do I...?"

With confidence he responded, "All the better to hear me with, obviously!"

He didn't give the Six Eared Macaque any more time to process his new existence and happily grabbed his arm intent on showing him everything he could do now he had a body. Only to stop as the other stumbled over his own feet.

He laughed, "You're like a new born deer! C'mon! You just need practice! Here!"

He ducked under one of his arms and held him up, "Just one foot after the other! Yeah, that's it!"

His friend just couldn't seem to be able to believe what was happening, "I have a body..."

"I know! Oh, we are going to get into so much trouble together! Well, once you've figured out how to walk that is! Don't worry, I'll teach you everything you need to know! Ah, this is going to be great!"