#petal ink cookie

[redfoxyfox]

I forgot...again

[jexnkookie]

The Law of Attraction (Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader) [Part 6]

Story Synopsis: Throughout his life, Jung Kook has only ever loved one girl. Despite her being out of his league and of an elite class that he wasn't born into, he fell hard, keeping his feelings a closely guarded secret. When they parted ways, and Jung Kook pursued his law career, he did so with the intent of moving on. But when she unexpectedly arrives back into his life, Jung Kook finds himself once again face to face with his own insecurities, and the girl of his dreams.

Story Rating: M (18+) [Language, sex, depression, alcoholism]

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Smut

Characters/Pairings: Lawyer! Jung Kook x Reader (feat. Jimin x Reader)

Chapter Word Count: 3.1k

Authors Note: New chapter!! I hoped y'all enjoyed the little interlude between this part and the last, I really enjoyed writing it. And I hope you enjoy this update, as well!

Taglist: @cassies-cookies @crisle19 @jk-190811 @khadeeeeej @kooklovee @lalataegi @lallataegi @rispwr @taetaecatboy @whoa-jo @11thenightwemet11

Interlude | Next Chapter

Series Masterlist

The bed that you woke up on was soft, despite being a bit smaller than you were used to. There was a soft hum coming from a spinning fan, creating a comfortable white noise in the otherwise quiet apartment. Your weekender bag was tossed on the floor, and you slowly pieced together where you were. You knew you must’ve fallen asleep shortly after coming to Jung Kook’s place, exhausted by the situation you’ve found yourself in. You checked your phone by your bed, and realized that you had slept all day. 

As you stretched out, you began to smell a pleasant fragrance coming from outside the room. You rose from the bed and opened the door, walking down the hall as you followed the scent of freshly cut vegetables. You found your way towards the living room, which sat adjacent to the kitchen, where Jung Kook stood, not yet noticing you were close by. His dark hair looked incredibly fluffy, with strands falling perfectly out of place. He wore a pair of grey sweatpants and a t-shirt, showing off an arm of tattoos that usually stayed hidden behind the sleeve of a professional suit. But he still managed to look softer than you’ve ever seen, as he combined ingredients together in a large, red bowl.  

“Hi.” You called out softly, earning his attention. 

“Hi.” He repeated, continuing to stir. “How’d you sleep?” 

“Very good… Thanks.” You said quietly, walking to the kitchen island to sit on the bar stool across from Jung Kook. 

“I, uh… I figured you would be hungry.” Jung Kook explained. “I hope you like japchae.” 

“I love japchae.” You smiled. “Oh my God, I haven’t had that since coming to the city.” 

“Great.” He smiled back. “This is a family recipe, so tell me what you think, ok? It’s almost finished.” 

“Thank you.” You responded. 

You looked around his small but nice kitchen, taking in Jung Kook’s little corner of New York. His white board calendar was pressed to the refrigerator with blue marker ink-scribbled reminders on a few important dates. The happy law school graduation photo of himself, and what you assume to be his mother, was hung up with a magnet cutely made to look like a Doberman puppy. A small collection of cookbooks stacked on top of each other, largest to smallest, creating a neat pyramid shape on the counter, and a collection of soju and whiskey that seemed to be carefully selected. It all felt so… him. Nothing too fancy or expensive, but it didn’t need to be. It was cozy, and for the first time in several days, you genuinely felt calm. This space, his space, felt safe. 

Then, you noticed a freshly cut bouquet of red and pink flowers in a vase of water, sitting right by you on the kitchen island. 

“Those are pretty flowers.” You commented, reaching over to gently touch one of the pink petals. 

“Oh! Yeah, they’re um…. T-They’re for you, actually.” Jung Kook stuttered. “I wanted to take them to the guest room, but uh, I didn’t want to wake you.” 

“You got me flowers?” You asked, your eyes wide in surprise. 

“Yeah. I saw them on my way back from the office.” Jung Kook explained nervously, watching your expression closely. “There’s um, there’s this flower street cart thing, down the block, on the corner. I pass by it all the time, but uh, I thought m-maybe it would… make you feel better? After, y’know… everything this morning.” 

“You got me flowers.” You repeated to yourself quietly, staring at the bouquet of red and pink. “Jung Kook, that’s really, really nice of you.”

“Y/N-” 

“Nobody’s ever gotten me flowers before.” You said softly, tears blurring your vision. “Thank you.” 

Jung Kook stood there stunned, not expecting this reaction. How could a woman who had everything in the world, be so moved by a three dollar bouquet? 

“Nobody has gotten you flowers before?” Jung Kook asked, but internally burning to ask why Jimin has never done that for you, being as its something so simple. 

“No.” You shook your head. “Never.” 

You didn’t offer more of an explanation, and the timer on the kitchen stove buzzed, stealing Jung Kook’s attention away to plate the noodles before he could ask you anything else. 

“Here,” He said, filling your bowl. “Let me know what you think.” 

You nodded a quick ‘thank you’ when he handed you the bowl and utensils, and your cheeks blushed when his dark yet sparkling eyes watched you take the first bite. You never noticed how his eyes sparkled like that, like stars contrasted against a clear, black night sky. 

If someone had told Jung Kook years ago that one day, you would be alone with him in his apartment, eating his father’s famous japchae recipe with a smile on your face, he would’ve thought they were messing with him. It sounded too much like a daydream, like one of those pretend, domestic scenarios he used to fantasize about over and over again while sitting next to you in class. But here you were, as beautiful as you’ve ever been, barefoot in a pink nightgown, smiling that sweet smile, in his kitchen.  

“It’s delicious!” You praised, lighting up excitedly at the flavor. “I think you could’ve been a chef!” 

“Thanks.” He blushed, shaking his head. “Eat well, ok? Have as much as you’d like.” 

The two of you ate in casual silence for a few moments, except for the occasional slurping. You sat at the kitchen island, and Jung Kook leaning against the kitchen counter, still facing you, with a bowl of his own. It was a small moment, and it felt delicate and new, chocked full of potential, like a seed planted in the cold ground. It was something Jung Kook wanted to water and nurture, to see if it would bloom when the weather turned warmer. 

“So…” He said, breaking the silence. “What do you want to do tonight?” 

“Hm?” You asked with a mouth full of noodles. 

“Well, I’ve got some games. Board games, or the Switch,” He explained. “Or, we can watch something. Netflix, Hulu, HBO… Whatever you want.”  

“Any of that sounds so nice.” You said with a smile. “Seriously, I’m happy with anything.” 

“Ok.” Jung Kook said, before glancing down to notice your bowl was empty. “Do you want any more? I made plenty.” 

“I’m so full now, but thank you.” You answered with a small laugh. 

“Any time.” Jung Kook responded, taking your dish. “I’ll clean up, don’t worry about it. I’ll meet you in the living room in a few minutes, ok?” 

“Are you sure you don’t want help?” You asked, watching him already load the dishwasher. 

“No, please, don’t worry about it.” Jung Kook said. “I’ve got it, it’ll just take a second.” 

“Ok.” You said, walking towards the dimly lit living room, only illuminated by the soft glow of the floor lamp sitting in the corner of the room. 

His Apple TV and Switch sat side by side on top of a small bookshelf, underneath the wall-mounted tv. The shelf was lined with comics, horror and romance books, which took you by surprise, be it a nice one. The curtains were opened, revealing a beautiful view of Manhattan at night, with glittering skyscrapers. You stood by one of the windows, looking out and taking it in. From so high up, the world below looked so small and far away, completely separated from where you stood, unable to reach you. Once again, a new sense of calm and safety flooded your system, allowing words you never meant to say to spill out.

“Jimin’s never gotten me flowers.” You thought out loud, speaking softly to yourself. Jung Kook heard you, and paused putting the last dish in the washer, turning to look at you from the other room. The distance between the two of you palpable; so close, yet still so far away. 

“Jimin’s never gotten you flowers?” He asked gently, and you turned to face him with a tinge of pink to your cheeks. 

“No.” You repeated, shaking your head. “Never.” 

“I’m sorry.” He responded, unsure as to what else he could say. 

“It’s ok.” 

But it wasn’t. Jung Kook knew that, and you knew that, but it went unsaid. Jimin gave you everything you should want; expensive gifts, trips to beautiful locations, and dining at the best restaurants in the world. But beneath all of that, the things you needed were absent. Peace. Protection. Stability. When those things don’t exist, you end up with a mess, exemplified ironically by a trashed luxury hotel suite. 

“Let’s watch a movie.” Jung Kook said, coming to the living room, and breaking you out of your thoughts. “Have you seen Wonka yet?” 

“Wonka? As in, the Timothée Chalamet musical Wonka?” You giggled at the suggestion. “No, I haven’t. I’ve heard that movie is so silly.” 

“I think silly may be perfect right now.” Jung Kook smiled at your description, revealing his boyish dimples, before sitting on the couch. “C’mon, I’ll put it on.” 

The movie glowed on the screen, and you settled into the couch, quickly getting comfortable. Jung Kook tried to focus, which proved to be a challenge as he sat so close to you. He hoped you couldn’t hear his heart race, or his abnormally deep breaths, or sense just how badly he wanted to hold your hand, or throw his arm around your shoulders so you could lean into him, or kiss your lips. He appeared calm on the outside, but inside, he was more desperate than he’d ever been. You were so close, but still so painfully far away from where he knew you could be... or maybe, even should be. But for the night, he accepted what he had; the girl of his dreams, comfortably in his apartment, but not quite close enough to touch. For now, that would have to be enough. 

——————————————————————————————————

Jimin’s father spent much of his life teaching his son what he could. Negotiating business deals, looking over contracts, and how to find a good lawyer, leading to his meeting with the family attorney, Mr. Kim Namjoon. But the underlying message of all of these things, was the most important lesson that Jimin had ever learned; Parks get what they want. It didn’t matter how, or at what cost; this is a family that got what they wanted. 

Jimin, for much of his life, had experienced this. A play room of toys at 5. A puppy and a horse at 10. A weekly allowance at 13, with deposits being much more than most people would see in a month. It was his father’s way of showing love. A poor man turned rich man through hard work, his father wanted his son to have the life he never had as a child. This only became more true with the early passing of Jimin’s mother. In his grief, Jimin’s father continued to spoil him monetarily, while setting high expectations in the areas of academics and sports that Jimin, despite being an overachiever by every metric, could never seem to hit. This is when Jimin began secretly drinking, as a way to cope. Love in the Park family wasn’t expressed in three words, or in sentimentality. It was expressed through the swipe of a Black Card, and tinted by the ever-present need to have control. 

This would come to a head on an early morning in Mr. Kim’s office, when Jimin, still hung over and tempers boiling just under the surface, was told exactly that. 

“What do you mean no?” Jimin asked, his tone angry. 

“I mean no.” Namjoon said nonchalantly. “She’s not coming back to the hotel. She’s staying where she is.” 

“I thought I told you that if your colleague is left alone with my fiancé again, I’ll pull my business from the firm and find representation elsewhere.” Jimin gritted his teeth. “I find this to be completely unacceptable.” 

“Mr. Park, with all due respect, let me tell you what I find to be unacceptable.” Namjoon responded, growing frustrated with the client. “What’s unacceptable, is having my high-profile client trash a five-star Manhattan suite, and leave Ms. Y/L/N so desperate for relief that she calls me at the crack of dawn, only for me to find you passed out in your underwear on the bed from a night of heavy drinking. You’re lucky the other guests didn’t call an employee when they heard the noise, and that it was only Mr. Jeon and I, because I guarantee your little ‘lover’s quarrel' or whatever would’ve been plastered all over the Korean press by now. It would’ve been embarrassing for everyone involved.” 

“How do we know it won’t be in the press?” Jimin tsked. “How will it look to send me into treatment, with my wife-to-be staying with another man? You think people won’t ask questions about that? You think that’s not embarrassing for me?” 

“I think it makes you look responsible.” Namjoon argued. “We can tell any curious press, and the judge, that you’re getting your life back on track, and you’ve left your fiancé in the care of a close friend, who also happens to be a colleague of your lawyer, so that she has support. It makes you look selfless, and secure. You know what doesn’t? Throwing your fiancé’s clothes around like a spoiled brat when she tries to leave you. That, Mr. Park, I can’t spin in a way that makes you look good.” 

“She was only trying to leave for the night.” Jimin said quietly, clearly ashamed to admit to Namjoon the damage he had done. “She wasn’t leaving me… She loves me.” 

“She does.” Namjoon agreed. “Which is why she wants you to get help, and why you shouldn’t worry about Mr. Jeon. And I know that you love her, too, which is why you need to focus on keeping her. This is the way you can do that.” 

“Fine.” Jimin agreed through tight, gritted teeth. “So then, what’s the plan?” 

“Today, we’re getting documentation from the treatment center, and Ms. Y/L/N’s letter.” Namjoon explained. “We’ll meet Ms. Y/L/N and Mr. Jeon at the rehabilitation center, and we’ll make sure everything’s in order to show the judge tomorrow morning. Then, we’ll argue that you’ve responsibly checked yourself in, and that you need time before you’re able to conduct yourself in a courtroom again. Ms. Y/L/N will write a letter about your character that I’ll submit to the court, and knowing this judge, I believe he’ll find it admirable that you and your fiancé are committed to your treatment, and he’ll defer your date.” 

“Ok.” Jimin nodded. “I think that can work… I’m going to miss her while I’m gone, Mr. Kim.” 

“I know.” Namjoon said, his voice empathetic. “But you know she’ll visit you as often as she’s allowed to by the center, and she’ll miss you just as much, if not more so. That’s why you need to do this, for her. Now come on, we need to get going.” 

Jimin’s personal driver was waiting outside of the firm for the pair, ready to take them to the address that Namjoon had texted him earlier that morning. The car ride was silent, with Jimin watching people from his tinted window go about their day. He was nervous to see you, unsure of how upset you’ll be with him. His leg bounced uncomfortably as the car turned right several blocks from the office, taking them closer to where Jimin would be spending the next three months. 

He saw you, standing outside of the building with Jung Kook. You wore a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt, and a Chanel bag across your body. Jimin quickly unbuckled and got out the car, anxious to see you. 

“H-Honey…” He said, dashing over to you, like nothing else in the world existed. You wrapped your arms around him, soothing his worries, and Jimin pulled you in close to kiss your lips. Jung Kook immediately looked away, choosing instead to meet Namjoon’s attention and nod his hello. 

“Hi, baby.” You said, holding back tears. 

“Honey, I’m sorry. I’m so, so fucking sorry.” Jimin rambled, his hands cupping your cheeks so that you’ll look at his face, as he wiped any tears that rolled down. “Anything mean that I did, and anything mean that I said, I didn’t mean it. You know that, right, Y/N? I’m so sorry, you must’ve been so scared. Fuck, I never want to hurt you, or upset you. I love you, and I’ll never be angry like that with you again. I’m gonna get better, ok, honey? Gonna get better for us.” 

Jung Kook wanted to scoff, but he bit his tongue. He wondered how many times you’ve heard the same promises, hashed out the same fights, cried the same tears. He wondered how many times you’ve had to piece your heart back together, only for it to shatter again. 

He wondered how many times you can spin in the same circle, until growing too dizzy to do so any more. He wondered if that day would come, and if he could be the one standing there, ready to steady you until your world stopped spinning. 

“I love you.” You said softly, keeping your arms around Jimin. “I just want you to be happy… I was so scared, and I missed my Jimin.”

“I’m right here.” He said, pressing another kiss to your head as his heart broke. “I’m right here, honey. I’ll always be happy, because of you, ok? Nothing is ever going to change that. I’m your Jimin, forever. I love you.” 

“I hate to break up a sweet moment, Ms. Y/L/N,” Namjoon said, stepping towards the couple. “But we need to wrap up some loose ends, so that we can get Mr. Park set up for tomorrow.” 

“Ok.” You said, pulling away from Jimin. He grabbed your hand and smiled softly, pulling your hand up to his lips for a kiss. 

The four of you walked into the treatment center, with Namjoon, Jimin and yourself signing Jimin in and going over what will take place over the next ninety days. Jung Kook just stood behind and out of the way, watching the way Jimin kept your hand in his, or softly brushed  pieces of hair from your face, or snuck a quick kiss to your lips and cheek when he thought nobody saw. Jung Kook watched the way you folded so quickly under his touch, his kiss or a sweet look in his eye. 

In that moment, Jung Kook felt as though he were a college student again, watching you with another man, while he blended seamlessly into the background walls. 

[scarapanna]

◆INFO POST◆

Hello there!

I decided to make a pinned post about some general stuff instead of an about page, mostly due to it being much easier to set up here.

Either way, I go by Beetle but you can also use my username if you wish, anything is fine really.

[Regarding my username change]

▪︎General info▪︎

-English is not my first language, so I might mess up some things here and there

-I’m aromantic (I think)

-I'm 17

-My pronouns are often on my desc, but in case they aren't I use she/her

-I post art and other types of content at a very mixed rate, thus anything that isn't a reblog has the specific tags listed over here

♤Tag map♤

#Beetle’s ramblings - this will be under posts regarding anything related to my personal thoughts or ooc

#Beetle's headcanons - headcanon tag (For whenever I post them on here)

#Beetle's art - art tag

#Sillystring content - tag for any joke pictures/videos/animatics and stuff of that nature

#Askbox stuff - used for anything related to asks

#Silly AU asks!! - used for AU related answers (in on it's own when there's an in-character answer, paired with the latter when story beats or other topics are touched in a more ooc manner)

◇Current side blogs◇

• @ask-macy-the-mossfly : [on hiatus] this is mostly an ask blog for an hollow knight oc, but sometimes I might post general mosscreep doodles or headcanons under the OOC tag

• @petals-and-ink : blog for a cookie run au, both and art blog and ask blog [not very active atm]

♧Current AU's♧

Storybook!AU (cookie run): first post

Intertwined Opposites!AU (cookie run): info post

Bound To The Skies!AU (cookie run): first post

Tapestry'sWispers!AU (cookie run): first post

☆Request rules☆

• Art request info post

• Crk spell game info post

[These can be sent trough asks]

◆ Other platforms◆

My youtube archive

▪︎DNI criteria▪︎

Please don't interact with the blog if you're Homophobic, Transphobic, a MAP, a Zoophile, or a Proshipper.

Last small sidenotes here, but please let me know/ask me before reposting my art!

As long as you add credit it's fine, but I'd like to be aware of it first if possible.

Regarding my askbox please try not to spam if you can! My times are criminally slow but i'll get to it eventually I promise!/lh

[neopronouns]

colorgenders inspired by the results of a “What is your Aura” quiz ((https://)uquiz(.)com/quiz/pxTx2D/what-color-is-your-aura):

Sky: short poems, teacups, clear skies, diaries, dripping icicles, tears, tennis shoes.

Honeysuckle: succulents, key lime, glow-in-the-dark stars, blown glass, honeydew, garter snakes, notes in bottles.

Seafoam: clear water, milkshakes, crystals, agave, candy dishes, converse, seashells.

Yellow: daisies, road signs, bumblebees, lemon meringue, bicycles, polaroids, awnings.

Hickory: felled oak, brass, sunken ships, olive pits, graphic shirts, splinters, dark room.

Orange: guitars, fanta bottles, sunglasses, orange peels, butterflies, popsicles, paper lanterns.

Sage: herb clippings, matcha, bullet journals, mini backpacks, needle felts, pistachio, laptop stickers.

Teal: dyed hair, scales, doc martens, aurora borealis, stormy seas, kingfishers, agate. 

Royal (blue): crown jewels, portraits, satin chairs, masquerades, nebulas, betta fish, secrets.

Gold: lion statues, coins, gold leafing, bound books, goldfinches, crowns, heart lockets. 

Crimson: rose vines, blood, apples, velvet, sharp nails, galaxies, dripping jewellery.

Navy: brush strokes, suit jackets, midnight, comforters, star gazing, arctic waters, starlings.

Forest: fern leaves, greenhouses, cloaks, bookstores, pine trees, chokers, snake scales. 

honey: friendship bracelets, beehives, school buses, children's books, flower petals, honeyed toast, polaroids. 

Ashen: old newspapers, smoke, quiet cities, pale cheeks, pebbles, chalk, the clouded moon.

Garnet: Brooches, anthologies, stained glass, leaves, dining chairs, long robes, curtains.

Chiffon: stone walls, sweaters, moths, dusty lace, animal tracks, incense, throw pillows.

Red: leather jackets, cherries, bruised knuckles, roses, lipstick, fast cars, rose petals.

Magenta: splattered paint, glitter, childhood friends, neon, pleather, dance floors, crystals.

Amaranth: bundled flowers, ribbon, merlot, overcoats, gemstones, lipstick prints, red velvet.

Periwinkle: knit hats, candies, tiny flowers, beads, teacups, washi tape, clouds.

Jade: islands, sketchbooks, rainy windows, pendants, puzzle pieces, tree frogs, sea glass.

Pink: cupcakes, sunglasses, pink sands, starbursts, pinky promises, flower crowns, ice cream.

Rose: lace, blown kisses, milk tea, paper fans, pillows, ballet slippers, fairy wings.

Amethyst: earrings, violet corts, parades, gemstones, insect wings, grape bushels, outer space.

Noir: drops of ink, eyeliner, crows, spiders, charcoal, painted nails, the night.

Cream: dandelions, marble, bottled coffee, hair ties, banana cream, bedsheets, sketches. 

Beige: lattes, dry fields, footprints, easels, cat fur, pottery, fresh-baked cookies.

Pearl: abalone, perfume bottles, chandeliers, tulle, ball jointed dolls, satin, paint palettes. 

Bronze: leather books, cowboy hats, foxes, candle jars, sword hilts, cobblestone streets, hourglasses

Amber: autumn days, freckles, torches, cabins, fossils, unbrushed hair, enamel pins.

Fire: sunrises, woven blankets, campfires, tigers, whiskey, monarchs, road trips.

Purple: geodes, club lights, ferris wheels, sunglasses, hummingbirds, eyeshadow, outer space. 

Blush: lollipops, warm cheeks, lip gloss, flowers, flamingo feathers, painted nails, heart glasses.

finally done with all of these — they're queued!

[sunburnt-pepsi-97]

Felt like making a silly sideblog out of the blue. This blog is mostly reblogs but occasionally I post art. There’s a lot of crude humor and self-indulgent content. Don’t expect this blog to upload often.

My Carrd

@sthsonic09 → Main Blog

@serenity-of-the-mirror-24 → Korn/Other Music & Punk stuff

@pens-and-keys-23 → Writing Blog

@roses-drenched-in-ink-27→ Art Archive Blog

@petals-on-the-lens-08 → Photography Blog

→Tags←

#rose’s posts 

#rose's art

#rose meta →  personal stuff or ramblings 

#other people’s post

My Fandoms/stuff I’m into: 

Sonic, Postal, Korn, Barbie, Supernatural, Call of Duty, My Little Pony, Descendants, Riverdale/Archie Comics, Twilight, It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia, Cookie Run, Interview with the Vampire, Marvel Comics, Danny Phantom, Once Upon A Time, Detroit: Become Human, Tron, Star vs the Forces of Evil

The divider I use is made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[ensnapemysenses]

The Wolf, The Bat, and The Girl

Part 4: Amortentia

Pairing: Snupin, Severus Snape x Remus Lupin

Warning: Bullying is mentioned and Snape deals with some feelings about the loss of his wife's scent in his amortentia.

Summary: Severus and Remus come face to face with the reality that they both smell each other in their amortentia.

Word Count: 1,087

Masterlist

Read on ao3

Amortentia. The most dreadful potion in the world, or so Severus believes. It is his duty every year to teach an arrogant group of idiots how to make the love potion as well as to endure endless questions about what Amortentia smells like to him. Of course, he never answers the brat's questions, instead choosing to brush them off and ignore them. Plus, it doesn’t matter anyway, the scent for him has stayed the same for the past fifteen years and he doesn’t expect to see it change anytime soon.

Severus begins his lesson by jotting down extra notes on the board as he makes adjustments to the information written in the book. The students follow along but it is soon apparent to Severus that something is wrong. The scent he is looking for seems to be - off. Usually, the potion smells of his late wife - vanilla, rose petals, ink and parchment, library books, and freshly baked sugar cookies - but today it seems to be taking on a more peculiar scent with each ingredient that he adds to the cauldron.

It started off innocently enough, he could have sworn he smelled a rose scent beginning to permeate his nose but it soon turned too earthy. The smell became more like freshly fallen rain in a forest and a woody earthen scent of pine soon followed. Interestingly enough the next scent that wafted through Severus’s nostrils reminded him of wet dog: a mixture of dirt, freshly harvested mushrooms, and an odd musky odor. His confusion was definitely heightened by that one. Lastly came the chocolate aroma, dark, heavy, comforting, and laced with hints of marshmallows. It reminded him of hot chocolate on a cold winter’s evening curled up on the couch under a blanket with his nose buried in a good book while his daughter Hazel napped beside him.

Although Severus senses the new smells, he pretends not to be alarmed while brewing the potion he has prepared countless times before. His mind wanders elsewhere, trying desperately to place the new scents while his body continues on autopilot. He knows that the scents are familiar but he can’t quite figure out who the scents belong to and a part of him doesn’t want to.

The more he thinks about it, the more the quilt grows in his heart, causing him to almost topple over from the pain several times. He clutches his chest as it aches with a heartbreak he had only experienced once before when his wife passed away. Now in the absence of her scent in the amortentia, the scent he loves dearly, he feels like he’s losing her twice. More accurately he knows he’s losing her again as his love for her has apparently faded to be replaced with someone else’s scent. 

He scowls at the thought and begins stirring the potion aggressively. He dices up and throws in the ingredients haphazardly, working at an alarmingly fast pace. He knows she would want him to move on, to be happy, and to find love again, but he is full of remorse. He doesn’t even know who he’s in love with, he had fully been expecting to be greeted by his beloved late wife’s scent this morning. 

But not only is he regretful, but he's also furious. He is enraged that he has the audacity to move on when he promised her he would never. He feels like he’s cheating, but he knows that’s ridiculous; his wife is dead. Logically he has every reason to move on and she even gave him her blessing, wanting nothing more for him but to find happiness after she was gone. After all, it's been many years, but it still feels like an arrow has pierced his heart and he’s bleeding out.

He finishes up his lesson pale and sweating. The students take no notice and hurriedly leave his sight. He sits in his empty classroom for what feels like an eternity, the amortentia he brewed still sitting beside him. Its scent continues to waft into his nose, yet he still cannot place where he knows the scent from. His hands ruffle through his dark hair before resting there, grabbing clumps of it and squeezing tight. Then, the smell grows stronger and he lifts his head to find none other than Remus Lupin standing over him. 

“What are you doing here?” Snape snarls. His beady black eyes squinted.

“I - What is that smell?” Lupin inquires. He scrunches his nose, inhaling more of the scent. 

“Stupid amortentia,” Snape mutters. Waving his wand he cleans up the potion but to his surprise, the scent remains. It must have permeated his nostrils. He huffs at the thought. 

“It’s an odd scent,” Remus inquires, equally confused that the scent still lingers in his nostrils. The potion had caught his attention: smelling of cinnamon, freshly diced herbs, books and parchment, leather, moss, and a hint of whiskey and cigarette smoke. 

Snape mummers in agreement. “Indeed. But, you haven’t answered my question. Why are you here, Remus?”

“Right,” he mutters. “Hazel seemed a little off in class today. I tried talking to her but she shrugged me off. I thought you should know. I think something is bothering her.”

Snape’s shoulders drop. “Thank you for informing me, Remus. I’ll take care of it.” 

“I can come with you if you’d like,” Remus suggests, wincing at his offer. He knows he shouldn’t be offering such a thing, but he feels the need to make sure Hazel is okay and to protect her from whatever is bothering her.

Politely declining Remus’s offer due to the sensitivity of the subject and out of respect for Hazel’s privacy, Severus heads to the Slytherin dorm to look for her but she’s nowhere to be found. Racking his brain to figure out where she could be, he finally decides to check the place he used to go when he was an overwhelmed student seeking alone time; the astronomy tower.

“Hazel!” Severus calls. She’s near the ledge looking out over the school grounds. “Remus told me something was bothering you and that you wouldn’t talk to him about it. What’s wrong, honey?”

Hazel slumps to the ground and pulls her knees to her chest. “Some kids have been picking on me because of how close I am with Professor Lupin. They call me mean names and joke about me having two dads and no mother.” Hazel sniffles.

Snape sits down beside her, draping his arm over her shoulder. “Hay, that is absurd! Those idiotic children have no right to say such rude things to you. As for someone having two fathers, that is okay as well! Your mother loved you very much and now you have me and Remus to look after you.”

Wiping her tears away Hazel looks up at her dad. “You two seem to get along well, dad. I’ve noticed how you two flirt. Do you like him?”

“I - I don’t like him.” His heart pounds in his chest and he feels hot. “Are you sure, dad?”

“I don’t understand the way I feel about him, Hazel,” he admits in a low whisper. His eyes fall to the floor before they wander back up to look at Hazel. 

“Why not?”

“It doesn’t make any sense. He was a part of a group that bullied me while in school.”

“People grow up and change,” she shrugs. “I think you should take some time and figure that out. I wouldn’t mind actually having two dads.”

“You’re right,” Severus sighs. “I’ll give it some thought, okay?”

“You promise?”

“I promise. Come on, let’s go get some ice cream.” 

~~~

“Everything okay with Hazel?” Remus asks, slipping into Severus’s office the next evening.

Severus lets out a breath. “Some kids have been bullying her about us,” he scrunches his nose. “I don’t get why it’s such a big deal! Those stupid little shits.”

Remus pauses. “About… us?”

As Severus nods, he repeats what Hazel said, skipping over the part where she asked whether he liked Remus. “There’s nothing wrong with someone having two dads, two mothers, whatever,” Severus huffs, waving his hand around as he speaks. “What matters is that they have a loving guardian or guardians watching over them.”

Remus agrees. “Does it bother you that the students are speculating about us?” He runs a hand through his hair before shoving his hands in his pockets and chewing on the inside of his mouth.

“I don’t care what anyone thinks,” Severus shrugs. “I’ve gone my whole life not caring what others think of me. Why start now?” 

Remus sits down on the edge of Severus’s desk. “That is true.”

As Severus comes into contact with Remus’s close proximity, he is immediately hit with a strange but familiar scent. A shock floods his face when he realizes it is exactly the same scent he smelled in his amortentia. He tenses and his eyes grow wide: What the fuck?

“Severus,” Remus says playfully, waving his hand in front of his face. “Daydreaming about me, again?” he laughs.

“No, of course not,” Severus retorts, snapping back to reality. He narrows his eyes to try and hide the blush creeping up his neck and onto his ears. “Why would I daydream about you, Lupin?”

Remus shrugs. “Perhaps you fancy me? Or perhaps it's the latter and you want to murder me?” he laughs. 

“Right now it’s the latter you dipshit,” Snape sneers leaning closer to Remus to intimidate him.

Laughing, Remus realizes that Snape's scent reminds him of what he smelled in the amortentia. The shock rolls through his body and he pulls back alarmed. “Fuck,” he mutters under his breath.  

“What was that?” Snape asks amused. “You seem a bit… flustered, Remus.” 

Severus inches even closer, frightened Remus jumps back. “It’s nothing, just an odd smell,” he mumbles. 

“Odd smell, indeed,” Severus agrees. 

“Y- you smell it too,” Remus whispers.

Severus nods and from deep within his cloak he pulls out a glass vial. “Stupid amortentia,” he mumbles, uncorking the vial. “It surely has a way of exposing the heart's innermost desires.” He takes a deep sniff and holds it out for Remus to smell as well. “Is this what you smelled?”

“Y- yes. How did you know?”

Snape ignores his question. “Tell me Remus… what do you smell?”

“Cinnamon, herbs, books, whiskey, leather, moss, and cigarette smoke.”

“Interesting,” Severus hums with a knowing smirk.

“And just what do you smell, Severus?” 

“Wouldn’t you like to know, you mangy mutt,” he drawls. 

Remus rolls his eyes. “I told you so it’s only fair that you tell me.”

“Life isn’t fair, Remus.” 

“Why you little bastard!” Remus exclaims. “You played me for a fool.”

Severus smugly smirks. “I think it’s time I retire to my chambers for the night. Good evening, Remus.” 

[bakersstreetirregulars]

Cookie Herald: 6th Anniversary Edition

11/10 - 11/28

🌰 Hi guys! In celebration of the 6th anniversary, we’ve prepared a special newspaper just for you- uh oh! It seems like the automatic printer press didn’t complete the job correctly. Some of the words are missing!

⚙️ This is where you guys step in and do our job for us! But first, you’ll need to acquire some environmentally friendly Newspaper Fragments 🗞 and Restoring Ink 🖋

🌰 Don’t worry! Blue Lily Cookie and Millennial Tree Cookie know how to get some! Complete some missions with them and you’ll get the supplies to print your version of the newspapers. Restore an article with Newspaper Fragments 🗞to be able to read it and then finish it by adding the remaining words. Complete each article to get a small reward for your first edition!

Daily Missions

Score 300M points in a single run - 50 🖋

Score 600M -> 1B -> 1.5B points total - 50 🗞 -> 80 🖋 -> 80 🗞

Single-Use Missions

Score 600M points total - 70 🗞

🌳 Score 200M -> 500M points in a single run with Millennial Tree Cookie and Millennial Jade Deer - 70 🖋 -> 100 🖋

🌳 Score 1B -> 5B points total with Millennial Tree Cookie and Millennial Jade Deer - 100 🗞 -> 150 🗞

💙 Score 200M -> 500M points in a single run with Blue Lily Cookie and Petal Mantis - 70 🗞 -> 100 🖋

💙 Score 1B -> 5B points total with Blue Lily Cookie and Petal Mantis - 150 🖋-> 150 🗞

🔮 The most popular articles among every edition published by the community might come true in the future. How, you might ask? Intuition. Intuition and magic. And now, Chestnut. Care to show our viewers what they’ll be working with?

🌰 Sure! C’mon guys, let’s show you what we’ve got lined up this time! Let’s start off with… this one. We’ve got a series of word strips that need to be placed in each of those colored spaces. Click the word or name you want in the matching color blank, then use Restoring Ink 🖋 to finalize your decision and maybe get some commentary from me, some of the other staff, and even a few guests!

You can always change your mind at any time as long as you have the ink 🖋 to edit it. You can even use that “Share” button included to share your version of the article with your friends! Now let’s look at some other ones… wow! Friendship, challenges, and accusations! How will these stories end?!

⚙️ Who knows? Editor bets that the inflammatory article about GingerBrave’s lack of something to be determined as a leader is a direct jab at Devsisters and their “perception” of negative feedback.

⚙️ Now, look at these two. Who would YOU say is the best thief? Data shows that the best thief is the one that can steal the most while leaving behind the smallest paper trail that leads to them. Bet none of them know a Wafflebot part when they see one, ha! I already have Chili Pepper to deal with for damaging my equipment back in the Vanilla Kingdom, but if I see Roguefort- or ANYONE- in my workshop without my permission, you deal with me!

🌰 Strawberry Crepe, please calm down! Here, why not look at this one about Eggnog? It says he wants everyone to look forward to the holidays, but the preferred gift is… an item filled with something else. I wonder what it could be…?

⚙️ Probably something cheesy like gloves filled with Bear Jellies, but if Eggnog can make a pair of gloves filled with sincerity that are big enough to wear on my Crepe Arms, that might increase my holiday spirit about 24%!

Chestnut Cookie plans to distribute the newspapers on November 28th 2022, when the next round of events begins. Possibly for the holiday special, but we do know that Devsisters SERIOUSLY needs to step up their act before their consumers unleash chaos!

An official statement from someone that works on the actual game would help, but the community managers are all you’ve got for now. Their stress levels off-camera must be going through the roof from all the incoming and unnecessary negative pressure! Just know if you didn’t already know that Mic Mac and Rose don’t work on the games, they just tell you what the devs want to make known publicly! If you really wanna take a jab at the devs where it hurts, leave scathing reviews on the App Store and tell them what-

🌰 Politely, please!

⚙️ - tell them politely what YOU want them to improve on through their direct customer support feed. Don’t watch their ads, and don’t buy anything from them. Make this declaration with intent to cause financial chaos clear if you want things to change.

🌰 Wow… that’s a lot. Which past story was worse in public relations, the Invocation Cards? Or NFTs? They both sound bad, but this one could be among them in terms of negative feedback because it’s the 6th anniversary…

[lunarcovehq]

WHITE ELEPHANT WRAP UP - PART 1

The first chaos plot drop will be posted in just a minute, but before it is, we did want to post a gift wrap-up. Below is a full breakdown of all of the gifts that were given during the White Elephant Party and who they ended up going home with. This will be in two parts as as there were so many gifts.

GIFT #1: from Aiyla, inside you find: A crystal jar full of supplies for mixed drinks and a variety of candy. A “mini” bar.

Ended up with - Rangi

GIFT #2: from Ben, inside you find: Wrapped in a fancy green paper, this gift is particularly heavy. Upon unwrapping, one will find a special edition copy of Shakespeare's Complete Works, illustrated, annotated, and leather bound.

Ended up with - Bri

GIFT #3: from Leyla, inside you find: The gift is a Mickey Mouse hat that appears at first glance to be the Mickey Mouse hat Todd had been inhabiting. It is not Todd's Mickey hat. Leyla would never subject Todd to a Russian Roulette gift exchange, but being the mischievous little fae that she is, she doesn't mind letting other people momentarily think it is. There is also a matching Minnie Mouse hat that is Santa-themed in pink and a pink tamagotchi that she picked out when she was Holiday shopping with her good new friend Cypress. Though while the Mickey Mouse hat may not be possessed by a ghost and is just an ordinary hat, the Tamagotchi was cursed with a sleep hex when Leyla wasn't looking by Cypress. Whoever is holding the Tamagotchi will be put to sleep. They will only wake up when the Tamagotchi is taken away from them. You will never be able to keep the Tamagotchi alive because every time to try to feed it you will pass out. Dun, dun, dun.

Ended up with - Dilan (though Ken stole the Tamagotchi)

GIFT #4: from Rangi, inside you find: A kid's chemistry set, complete with safety goggles and a full instruction manual to become "the coolest science kid on the block".

Ended up with - Amrita

GIFT #5: from Jonah, inside you find: Neatly wrapped in brown paper with green pine leaves is a Bob Ross toaster. Note reads: Hope this brings some creativity whenever you feel like life is toast.

Ended up with - Ben

GIFT #6: from Amrita, inside you find: The main gift appears to be a basket adorned with two white bows. Inside of it is a box with freshly baked raspberries and white chocolate cookies with a side of freshly picked raspberries. Next to the box is a tea set that includes five tea bags and the flavors include: 1) Hibiscus Mint, 2) Chamomile Lavender, 3) Darjeeling Cardamon. Next to it is a small candle with clear quartz in the middle and dried flower petals, the scent is vanilla bean. On the other side of the basket, to even out the weight, are two books. One of the books is "The House of The Spirits" by Isabel Allende, and the second book is "Pop Song" by Larissa Pham. Both books are decorated as seen in the picture, with brown paper, wax, and a sticker of a flower. On the brown wrapping paper are written in black ink the genres each book belongs to. The first book says: Fiction, Magical Realism, and Historical, and the second book says: Nonfiction, Essays, Feminism. On the very top of all the gifts is a very small square card with the pun "the s'more the merrier" inside is the following message, written in beautiful cursive: "I hope this new year brings wonderful things to your life. Clear quartz has healing properties, so I hope it is useful to you. Have a jolly Christmas! - A."

Ended up with - Briar

GIFT #7: from Linden, inside you find: a custom Batman toilet cover.

Ended up with - Elif (though she gifted it to Kitty after Kitty threw a fit and flipped a table over losing it)

GIFT #8: from Dilan, inside you find: Since they caused such a stir last year once more there is a vampire garlic crusher and a pair of pink sheets.

Ended up with - Ronnie

GIFT #9: from Julian, inside you find: In a brown bag which has "WRAPPING IS HARD." written on it you'll find torn tissue paper concealing the following items: a baseball cap that says "women want me, fish fear me", a pair of fish flops, homemade gingerbread people cookies (which are pretty cursed looking) and the main event; A Cursed Remake of the Birth Of Aphrodite Painting featuring everyone's least favorite robopet toy of yesteryear, The Furby.

Ended up with - Billie

GIFT #10: from Rohan, inside you find: This vintage board game, still sealed in plastic wrap, seems to be from the late 80s or early 90s. But rather than using the included telephone to chat with mystery boys, the object seems to be communicating with "over 100 eerie beings from the beyond." The thing radiates a foreboding aura, and there does not seem to be a record of this toy even existing in the first place. Maybe it's a prototype? The eyes of the girl on the cover seem to follow you when you move.

Ended up with - Jasmine

GIFT #11: from Kitty, inside you find: Wrapped in absolutely primo Nicolas Cage themed wrapping paper, this box isn't heavy, but it's not exactly light, either. The box is, at the very least, definitely not empty. After unwrapping and opening the box, one can find a tin of homemade cookies (assorted), as well as a homemade booklet of "coupons" that say "EAT FREE AT PEGGY'S. OFFER LAST UNTIL DECEMBER 31, 2024." The person who receives this gift will be able to eat for free at Peggy's diner for the entirety of 2024.

Ended up with - Culver

No Image attached. Please use your imagination.

GIFT #11: from Mason, inside you find: In a box wrapped messily with skiing dinosaurs wrapping paper, a note reads: A Merry Cretaceous Crunch-mas to you! (with a disclaimer written in smaller font on the back: chips, dips and tacos not included). Inside the box are three food holding dinos; stegosaurus for nachos - comes with a dip holder, triceratops and t-rex for tacos."

Ended up with - Bexley

GIFT #13: from Elif, inside you find: In a box wrapped messily with skiing dinosaurs wrapping paper, a note reads: The gift is wrapped in bright blue dinosaur wrapping paper with a bright red bow. The present is in the shape of a toilet, but when you unwrap the toilet present, you will find an absurd amount of crinkled up toilet paper that had been used as tissue paper to keep the toilet shape. There is a note taped underneath of the lid of the fake toilet seat that says 'Don't worry. The toilet paper is clean and can still be used so that you can avoid a bad shit-uation. Recycling." followed by a sketch of the 'More You Know' rainbow. Buried in the toilet paper, you will find a bottle of water that has been relabeled with the words 'Melted Snowman' across it, a bag filled with chocolates that are labeled as "Reindeer Poop", a pair of socks that say "I didn't fart, my butt blew you a kiss", & a rock. The rock says "Turn Me Over" while the back of the rock reads "You just took orders from a rock".

Ended up with - Mason

GIFT #14: from Briar, inside you find: In a box wrapped messily with skiing dinosaurs wrapping paper, a note reads: A pair of sock with Briars face on it with a gift cards to local restaurants tucked inside.

Ended up with - Jonah

GIFT #15: from Bex, inside you find:The gift is a hexagonal potted terrarium with different kinds of succulents and moss growing amongst a small fox skull.

Ended up with - Aiyla

GIFT #16: from Ronnie, inside you find: An incredibly fancy envelope, sealed with an elaborate looking wax seal. The material looks expensive and of a fine quality. Inside is simply a phone number.

Ended up with - Efe

GIFT #17: from Noel, inside you find: The gift is: (drugs & alcohol tw) Probably one of the most eye-catching gifts in the room, this medium sized gift bag made with brown paper and decorated with two red mittens, is tied to what feels like 10 different balloons. Balloons consists of a giant gingerbread man, candy canes, stars, and regular balloons. The balloons are red and white. Inside the bag a Haribo Advent Calendar is peaking through given it's size. Also in the gift bag is a small container with San Rafael's blasperry THC gummies, and a bottle of Absolut Exlyr Vodka. At the end of the giftbag, buried under all the goodies is a card whose cover reads "Fuck it! It's Christmas!" with the following message: "The holidays are a good excuse to let loose! Cheers to the New Year! - Papa Noel 😎" The text is written very messily, and it was clearly rushed. Some of the text is actually smudged against the other side of the card.

Ended up with - Ken (though the edibles made their way around the party)

GIFT #18: from Poppy, inside you find: The gift is:Wrapped on the outside with red santa paper, inside is a red box containing the following items. A red Stanley cup, shot glass roulette with an array of beer included, and a portable campfire.

Ended up with - Noel

GIFT #19: from Eren, inside you find: The gift is: Wrapped elegantly in a matte black wrapping paper paired with a black bow (and a sprig of greenery for color) are the following: A Turntable Stereo System and three vinyl records - Disintegration by The Cure, Rio by Duran Duran (Limited Edition Double Vinyl Set), and Rumors by Fleetwood Mac.

Ended up with - Rae Elle (which started drama after Rae stole it resulting in her being outed as Silas' henchwoman)

GIFT #20: from Arlo, inside you find: The gift is: a set of A4 size hand painted portraits of each member of the Council in the style of Giuseppe Arcimboldo's vegetable portraits.

Ended up with - JC (though Meena's portrait is missing after having thrown it into the fire)

GIFT #21: from Ken, inside you find: The gift is: An extreme last minute entry, Ken's gift is a pack of batteries (image has only two, but he's generous this holiday season - there's four).

Ended up with - Arlo (who chucked them at Ken's head)

GIFT #22: from Remmy, inside you find: An average sized frame that holds a watercolor painting of the main street in downtown Lunar Cove.

Ended up with - Rohan

GIFT #23: from Jas, inside you find: An empty jar. The label of the Jar reads "The Jar of Nothing. Did you say nothing? When you were asked what you wanted for your birthday, Anniversary, Graduation or Christmas, don't you remember saying, "NOTHING"? Well, this time someone heard you, searched high & low and found this perfect gift.

Ended up with - Poppy

GIFT #24: from Efe, inside you find: A heavy-duty solar-powered rechargeable power bank, great for camping or general emergency use. Even vampires could benefit from a little sun energy!

Ended up with - Remmy

GIFT #25: from Bille, inside you find: A small red gift box. It's not heavy, but, when shaken, there's clearly something very solid inside. Upon opening it, there's a small, blue, crystal elephant figurine. There's also a carefully handwritten note that says, "sorry it's not white :("

Ended up with - Meena

[lumineselfshippy]

Hiyo!

I'm Ghostbur or Lumine, a mixtive apart of a system. I'm a minor and use she/it pronouns as well as neopronouns. I'm a self shipper as well. I am a minor who selfships with minors, though I only ship with those my age or older!

I like self shipping, regressing, Genshin Impact, Bungo Stray Dogs, Cookie Run: Kingdom, Stardew Valley, writing, reading, and much more!! Feel free to send me an ask, I want to make mutuals and meet more people! I'm sorry if I don't respond very quickly though :(

I have tons of f/os, some who I'm not comfortable sharing!! No worries if we share some I'm uncomfortable sharing. You can still interact, I'll just block that tag of that character. If you don't have a tag, I just won't follow back. :)

DNI/BYI, main F/Os, and tag system under the cut!

I have many f/os, but here are the main ones:

(Bold = not comfy sharing)

BSD

Fyodor

Nikolai

Chuuya

Genshin Impact

Albedo

Diluc

Freminet

Kaveh

Dainsleif

Honkai: Star Rail

Luocha

Cookie Run Kingdom

Espresso Cookie

Snake Fruit Cookie

˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗

Tag System:

∬﹒🌸﹒→﹒reblogs

∬﹒🌸﹒→﹒asks / chatting

∬﹒🌸﹒→﹒favorites

∬﹒🌸﹒→﹒faq

∬﹒🌸﹒→﹒not f/os

˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Diabolik Lovers

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Blood-soaked Hibiscus (Azusa, Laito, Kanato, Kou)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Cookie Run

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Scaled Bouquet (Snake Fruit Cookie, Lotus Dragon Cookie)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Coffee in the Greenhouse (Espresso Cookie)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Carefully Tended Clovers (Clover Cookie)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Secret Garden (Red Velvet Cookie)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Misguided Perfectionists (Creme Brulee Cookie)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Honkai: Star Rail

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Garlands of Spider Lilies (Kafka/Silver Wolf/Blade)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Wardens of Life (Luocha)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Floral Abundance (Yaoshi)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Asleep in the Flowerbed (Jing Yuan)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Genshin Impact

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Pretty Poisons (Dottore/Pantalone)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Chalk and Frozen Flowers (Albedo)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Where Land Meets Sea (Freminet)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Petals and Palaces (Kaveh)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Blue Forget-Me-Nots (Ayaka)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Intertwined Hyacinths (Diluc)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Gently Held Inteyvats (Dainsleif)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Blossom & the Beast (Childe)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ Bungo Stray Dogs

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Petals & Poets (Ranpo/Poe)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Withering Flora (Fyodor, Sigma, Bram)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Party Trick Petals (Nikolai)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Mutts in a Garden (Tetcho/Jouno)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Irises and Lilies (Akutagawa/Atsushi)

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Fragrant Flower Wines (Chuuya/Dazai)

𓍢ִ໋🌷͙֒ ETC

∬﹒💘﹒→﹒Bloodied Flora (Secret f/o)

˚ · .˚ ༘🦋⋆｡˚

∬﹒💌﹒→﹒Oath of Trust (Kokomi, Gorou)

∬﹒💌﹒→﹒Love like a Brother (Razor, Xingqiu)

∬﹒💌﹒→﹒Sister's Bond (Collei, Lynette, Yanfei, Yoimiya)

∬﹒💌﹒→﹒Loyal to no End (Goodra, Noivern, Garchomp, Luxray, Greninja, Meganium)

∬﹒💌﹒→﹒Platonic Love (Yaoyao, Sucrose, Sigewinne, Squid Ink Cookie, Pond Dino Cookie, Milky Way Cookie)

[sthsonic09]

I’m into a lot of fandoms but you’ll mainly see Sonic and Postal. Some content here might include gore, suggestive material, and/or dark themes. Most of my time is spent on work or personal projects so I don’t upload frequently. My writing socials are linked on my Carrd. ↓

My Carrd

@sunburnt-pepsi-97 → Side Blog

@serenity-of-the-mirror-24 → Korn/Other Music & Punk stuff

@pens-and-keys-23 → Writing Blog

@roses-drenched-in-ink-27→ Art Archive Blog

@petals-on-the-lens-08 → Photography Blog

→My Tags←

#posts from a rose → all of my posts

#rose’s stories → posts that contain links to my original stories and fanfiction

#rose’s art → my art

#rose edits → my edits

#rose's photos → my photography

#rose meta → text posts that are analyses or personal stuff

→self explanatory←

#other’s art 

#other’s gifs 

#other’s posts 

→Fandoms←

{Sonic} ● {Postal} ● {Korn} ● {Barbie} ● {Supernatural} ● {Call of Duty} ● {My Little Pony} ● {Descendants} ● {Riverdale / Archie Comics} ● {Twilight} ● {It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia} ● {Cookie Run} ● {Interview with the Vampire} ● {Marvel Comics} ● {Danny Phantom} ● {Once Upon A Time} ● {Detroit: Become Human} ● {Tron} ● {Star vs the Forces of Evil}

The divider I use is made by @animatedglittergraphics-n-more

[laurapetrie]

types of girls, heroines of classic literature edition, part ii

catherine earnshaw: queen of temper tantrums, gets excited when the sky is gold, dramatic crier, foggy evening walks, loves the stars, best winged eyeliner game on the moors, rainy nights with an old book, long hair pushed back with a velvet ribbon

kitty shcherbatsky: ballet slippers with pink satin ribbons, sugared rose petals, waltzing to the nutcracker, gingerbread and hot cocoa (with extra marshmallows!), ice skating dates with her boyfriend, twirling the night away in a pink ball gown

emma woodhouse: high tea with little cakes, has final authority over all her friends' tinder matches, smells of miss dior, rose pink silk pajamas, a little spoiled, always has a box of sweets on hand

josephine march: eats the best candy from the box and leaves the rejects for her siblings, ink stains on her hands, scribbled notes in the margins of old books, first to open her stocking on christmas morning, over-sized sweaters

anne shirley: loves decorating cupcakes, still believes in magic, always in a flower crown, makes handmade lacy valentines for her classmates, wishes on shooting stars, stress-bakes sugar cookies

yvonne de galais: has the sleeping beauty waltz on replay, exclusively wears miu miu, believes in love at first sight, always in a dream, collects powder puffs, bulk orders rose macarons from laduree

lily bart: leaves her text messages on read, wears a floaty peignoir and pink marabou slippers to bed, new york city at dusk, pampering herself, diamond headbands, poor boys

francie nolan: old bookstores, cinnamon buns with lots of sugar, dates at the library, owns a lot of colorful stationery, slightly undone ribbons in her braids, hot coffee with vanilla, cashmere cardigans and worn-out ballet flats

eustacia vye: mysterious and quiet, loves wandering in the mist, drinks a lot of sweet wine, dreams of paris, prefers dark chocolate over milk chocolate, classic ballet scores on crackly vinyl, velvet-bound books of romantic poetry

[yandere-society]

pjm | “carnal lechery”

pairing: yandere! vampire! jimin x novice nun! virgin! fem. reader

rating: M

genre: yandere au, supernatural (vampire) au, smut, angst

word count: 10.5K

Headline: Halloween Night Massacre; Police Baffled By Murdering Spree

warnings: yandere themes, dub con, angst, graphic sexual content, unprotected sex, penetrative sex, oral (m.rec & f.rec), bonding, blindfolding, biting, loss of virginity, virginal blood worship, overstimulation, use of feathers and chains, mentions of blood, graphic descriptions of slaughtering, mentions of religious cults, mentions of christianity, mentions of sacrifices, gore.

synopsis: Attempts to precede his arrival made you ornery as he slipped like thin air from your fingers, even when you’d have him so close. You had almost ultimately fixated in your mind that you’d never know your secret admirer. Meanwhile— mysterious murders, disappearances and uproars about the return of the most fabled coven of vampires: ❛The Rouge❜ leads you to expect your imminent death. However, you do not expect the turn of events and the appearance of the one you’d been seeking for.

admin: @unfurlingtwinklingstar​

It was one of those macabre mornings when you’d find an oh-so-familiar garland at your doorstep.

The very same kind of flowers that you’d prefer for decorating your little reading nook with, would lay wrapped in a delicate paper foil. The dew on its petals would appear golden as it would kiss the ray of dawn streaming through the porch of your fern-scented cottage.

A feverish shiver would run through your spine at the sight of a caramel-colored envelope right underneath the lavender foil in anticipation of what this letter would say about you.

It would be hard to persist the laden need to find the giver first when the lovely pink petals would almost frown at your resistance.

You cherished calla lilies. There wasn’t a day when they’d not sit on your vase with their trimmed stems soaked in lukewarm water, smiling as they bloom.

Every Friday, this was to be expected. Yet, you weren’t fully comfortable with the handwritten cursive that’d make your fingers slack at its message.

The meander cursive masked the obscene descriptions of your curves, the filth in the mind of the writer was impeccably reflected in the flow of the dark ink.

The first time you had gotten such a letter, you had a recurred session reading it with obscure scrutiny, only to find the title ‘Third youngest of the Rouge’ in the sender name column.

The letters had chanted your name like a prayer, it’d beckon for you to have a taste of the kind of pleasure that you were trying to celibate yourself from, the kind that’d be a sin to indulge in.

It made your body thrice warmer, your body blazed into a pretty rouge like the robes you wore during service hours in the church.

Eroticism and romance were taboo subjects to conventuals and canonesses at the convent of Volterra. Being a novice in service to the almighty, you were taught to be a holy carmelite, a slender benedictine, devoted especially to scholarship and liturgical worship.

But the intimate descriptions highlighted the black traces of sin in the depths of your soul as if the devil awaited his chance to stand erect and applaud in sheer satisfaction at the sight of your crumbling control.

Sucking in shaky breaths, you grab hold of the stirrer and kindle the crackling flames dancing in your fireplace.

Without a second thought, you toss the expensive pieces of poetry into the topaz flames and watch as the fire comes to life and blazes the parchment to ashes.

You were considered too much of a vestal to submit to this admirer of yours.

The choirs at the convent church were different compared to other choirs that didn’t sing hymns. Their voices were almost like the angels’, high notes soaring over the clouds, graceful notes dancing on the staves, they sang for the almighty only.

This was halloween at the monestery. Whilst the town wore spooky robes and went around sharing treats in exchange of spared tricks, you sang along with your fellow sisters, honouring the almighty and paying tribute to saint Marcus.

You sang along, keeping a low voice and swaying to the gentlest harmony in devotion. The stanzas are clutched to your heart and you cherish this moment when you feel the string between you and your god. You cannot fathom how satiated you feel. Your mind strays to your past, when you were under foster care.

You were a doting, little child despite how the other girls prayed for a future where they can possess expensive goods and glittery jewelry. You only kept away from their notions of want and sinful desires for pleasure even as you became an adult.

You chose to bake cookies, share blankets, study the Bible, smile and croon at the praises the church would give you, rather than read obscene novels and join the young woman of your age in subjects that were atrocious in the eyes of the holy.

Sister Siena walked you to your dwelling at the convent’s residence while she chattered about her moss garden and herbs that could treat flu. You listened quietly, letting out little nonchalant hums. Gardening wasn’t a subject of your interest and you were much more fatigued to feign enthusiasm.

“The halloween rituals might probably need an addition of prune juice, don’t you think?” she asks while you unlock the latch and walk into your home.

You let out a small smile and usher her in whilst nodding to everything in your surroundings. A little envelope peeks out from the gap between the floor and the hallway door, making your chest tighten at the realisation.

A letter from your mystery admirer was unforeseen and definitely unwelcome, especially in the presence of a fellow nun in your dwelling.

The attention of sister Siena is brought back at the sight of a cream-coloured envelope with a rather unfamiliar stamp on its surface.

Her olive eyes narrow to two slits and makes perspiration bead out and down your clavicle in fear. In the blink of an eye, the envelope’s seal is torn and the letter is perused by the chestnut haired female at once.

Her response however, gives you a cursory shock. Her lips turn into a smile and she stares up at you, eyes in awe as if she had witnessed the grand work of Caravaggio.

“You have an admirer”, she infers and you scour her face for signs of offense only, to find nil. She seems rather, glad.

“I— I usually burn them there” you point to your fireplace and her shoulders buckle in a brief fit of giggles, as if you had shared an anecdote.

“Who would pray to have a vestal nun? It is like counting the stars.” she mumbles into her mug of tea, eyes flickering from your face to the letter, absent-mindedly.

You shrug and get seated opposite to her, straining your eyes on the flickering flames that warms your numb, cold toes. You sigh in bliss at the tranquil frame of your nook and almost the next minute, your eyes flutter shut and you sink into the lulled sounds of the crackling fire.

Unbeknownst to you, the young nun seated at your opposite has her nerves ossified at the glimpse of the sender’s title. Comprehension of ‘third youngest of the rouge’ sends her mind into frenzy. Dismay sinks into her heart and makes it thud and toll like church bells at the realisation of the plight that you have been pulled into and she shudders.

Without so as to even a noise, the letter is slid into her crimson tunic and the envelope is thrown into the fire.

The coolness of the midnight is deceptive; the sun has barely risen and this altitude is always cooler. Siena’s destination is low down and deep into the interior, well away from the onshore winds. When she reaches, the heat of that region makes her compare the temperature to her kitchen’s, on a baking day— like a friendly warmth instead of the inferno it always is.

Her footsteps are ushered as the heels of her moccasins rap against the laid out cream carpet in dull thuds, her breathing is in a frenzy too for, hundreds of thoughts swarm in her head at once.

Siena is cold to the bone despite striding across the blazing heat of the deep, dim chambers of the three elderly canonesses, at the convent. The canonesses— head nuns are rather reserved and hostile about their roles in the society.

Before the 17th century, such chambers were often considered clandestine— precisely, before the battle of Tuscany. The battle held a significant place in history, for how saint Marcus and his veterans fought and impeded entire Tuscany off of sanguinarians— a term used to describe vampires.

The rise and fall of the most fabled coven of vampires was inscribed in the olden scriptures and was forgotten to tell tales about wizards and curses as of the present. Siena had studied about them at school.

The mere image of the counts brings shivers down the woman’s spine and she shudders as she holds onto the letter and walks, toward the canonesses’ chambers.

It is dark when she arrives; gnarled trees hung low over the baronial church, creaking ominously in the howling winds. The heavy oak doors broke open, echoing around the empty church.

The moonlight shone through the heavily cracked stained-glass windows, casting an eerie glow onto the dusty alter. Thick cobwebs hung on every surface and her footsteps sounded deafening on the cold stone floor.

Two elder ladies sit perched on their carpeted thrones with their veils over their heads and backs turned toward Siena. They hold hands in a circle and mutter chants to themselves.

Siena’s eyes capture the silent movements of their fingers and the incessant nods of their heads. She gently walks— almost stalks, until one of the elder canonesses perk at her arrival and seek her to sit with them.

The chamber walls radiate off its warmth and the conversation is lulled as Siena breathes out her concerns with utter respect, her expression remains composed despite her rapid breathing.

The canonesses nod with eyes widened at the size of fire lanterns, their fingers tremble slightly in comprehension of the magnitude of issue that the young nun had brought to them.

In the next hour, right on the death of halloween, nuns and monks are summoned from the monastery and a ceremony is held right in their place to seek peace once again.

The seven Rouge sanguinarians, the fabled coven of vampires have returned to Volterra.

The four canonesses sit in a circle and one of them draws a circled figure at their center. The symbol seems ominous to Siena, it seems almost like a satanic pentagram. A silver crucifix is fixed right at the junction of the chalked lines and the series of chants begin.

For almost a quarter of a hour, Siena sits— rooted and in the careful look-out for queer changes in the surroundings. The next minute, one of the canonesses jerk as if she had felt a foreign presence and collapses on the canoness next to her.

The chamber queerly begins getting chilled as the chants get more louder in unison. Whooshing noises of the wind soon fills the chamber and an eerie figure settles through the open window, making Siena freeze, petrified.

At the end of the hallway stands a slender yet, robust, almost surreal, young-looking man sheathed in a heavy, scarlet cloak. His eyes are shut, as if he is in deep thought, and once they open, they make Siena jump out of her seat in fear.

Skin almost translucent, a bloodless hue, reminiscent of cave dwelling creatures that never saw the light of day, as pale as the living dead, as pale as a corpse. His bleached skin was as white as a sheet of paper next to the sleeve of the black woolen sweater, his orbs seemed bloodshot, yet, they held a life of their own like the burning rouge of a ruby.

“Third youngest of the Rouge”, Siena hears a canoness announce, the latter’s voice seems both startled and in disbelief.

“Ann. Fancy seeing you there, you seem older than in our last meeting, don’t you agree?”, the young count seethes and takes steps toward the eldest of all the canonesses.

Siena stares at the duo, perplexed. The two seem to know each other like old acquaintances yet, their eyes hold an unexpressed rage that she does not fathom.

“I am afraid greetings will have to wait, Park. You and your brothers must be well aware of the treaty you have broken.” Ann almost hisses, stepping in front of the rest as if she is unafraid to emphasize her point.

The ethereal man quirks an eyebrow at Ann’s actions in disapproval yet, curls one side of his mouth in a smirk, eyes reflecting a certain devilish glint.

“Ah. You accursed humans never seem to learn, do you? Fifty years ago, we made a pact. For our coven to never be disturbed by you humans, in exchange for us to move our grounds”, he accentuates the words and sets his eyes on Siena, making the latter freeze.

“Twenty years ago, there was a lovely young woman with round orbs and curves more enrapturing than the meanders of Tuscany’s hills”,

At the mention, something turns in the face of Ann as it hardens like wilted musk. Park further continues walking and retracing his steps, eyes glued shut and jaws clenched in raw rage.

“She was bonded to one of the youngest counts and the war—” he pauses in his steps with his sculpted back turned toward the canonesses, as he stares blankly ahead, grieved.

“The war, it killed her. She lost her life, she died in vain. She was destroyed by her own race. The pact was shattered broken at that moment, that moment when the light left her bewitching eyes.” he croaks a bit, shoulders slacking as if the memory was his venom.

“She was innocent yet, she was killed. By your people.”

There’s a shadow casted in the slender man’s eyes and it was quite clear. The rage for revenge that was cloaked in it.

Even whilst his back was turned, his head seemed calculative of the canonesses’ immediate response. Ofcourse, humans never seemed to learn.

Ann’s eyes reflect death and almost the next second, she strides forward with the silver crucifix in her hand and tosses it at the empty black space where Park stood, moments before.

The next second, a heavy, red, mushy liquid is splattered onto Siena’s face as she screams and crawls toward the exit, horrified for her life.

The canonesses’ throats had been cut and they lay like butchered animals in a waste of blood. One corpse had slipped from the low throne to the right of the door and lay staring up at her, the mouth open, the head almost cleft from the body. She saw again the severed vessels, sticking like corrugated pipes through the clotted blood. The second was propped, ungainly as a rag doll, against the far wall. Her head had drooped forward and over her chest a great mat of blood had spread like a bib.

Tuscany’s most esteemed dignitaries of the church society lay like ghoulish mannequins, the esophagus and arteries sticking out like so much corrugated and rubber tubing. The smell that vapoured from their bodies could only come from slaughtered animals.

Thick, warm blood crawled into Siena’s throat and clawed at her air sacs like muck. Spewing with every glance at the mass slaughter, she struggled to wipe away the splutters of blood stuck to her skin and crawled on her limbs not any different from a five-sensed mutt, heaving and croaking for mercy.

Her pleadings for mercy fell upon deaf ears. When the bone of her ankle was seized to pull her toward the ghoulish young count, Siena thought the night would take away the last of her breath.

Her jaws were clasped in the count’s fingers and her eyes were a hair away from the orbs of death. The young count was sheathed by the moonlight in a silvery halo.

Without the traces of blood on his mouth, skin resembling the late winter and rage on his sculpted visage as red as his name, anyone could mistake the monster to be an angel.

His temper was on a hair-trigger and his eyes were lethal.

“You will run to the town’s mayor. If you want your soul to be spared, you will run there and shout to those mucks that the Rouge have returned”, the count spewed venom with each word.

“You will throw this parchment on their faces and demand that they comply to every syllable that’s scribed in the sheet!” he speaks, spelling out thunder claps and boulders at the poor nun.

“If not, Tuscany will have every breathing and crawling creature slaughtered like its canonesses”. He warns and whooshes away like smoke— ungraspable by bare hands.

Even in the wintry morning when town folks discussed the daily’s headlines with an uneasy settlement in their guts, you pursued boiling tea and folding your blankets neatly, unmindful of their great fear.

The afternoon too was eerily quiet and folks everywhere preferred to speak in a whisper and contain themselves in their abode. It seemed rather dubious and as heedless as you were, you never perceived that your innocence would lead to your downfall.

The sun sank lower in the sky, draining away the golden hue of the warm and gave path to a velvety dark night. The same moment when the crickets came out to chirp, dusky colours subdued in the fading light as shrieks and collective roars were heard at the heart of the town.

You, along with some of your fellow nuns peaked at the commotion and threaded through the crowd that swarmed in front of the Mayor’s office. On the board was a derogatory notice. Although, the crumples and rusty stains gave away the fact that the notice wasn’t pinned by the authorities. Its calligraphy looked eerily familiar to you.

“Tunic as red as our coven’s name, skin shining like beacon, tresses sheeny and burnished, eyes like the forest floor and gentle flowers with mirth, feminine curves softer and untouched like a laden bush of peony,”

The fear is a weight on the Mayor’s ribs and there exists a dull ache in his eyes, an unwillingness for his mouth to lift past neutral, to charge against but, words are lost in the hollow of his throat. Fear stills his lips as he pursues it to read out the rest.

“—The young vestal nun with a name that echoes across valleys of Tuscany, the one who dwells in the only fern-coated cottage near the gates of the lush forest.

Bring her to the place where human ritual pyres blaze, those who dare do otherwise, prepare to meet death as painful as a swine’s.

Against you rise, prepare to pay a deathly price.” he ends and mutters hurriedly in the commissioner’s ear and you notice the skeleton of his wrinkled fingers tremble at the slightest.

There’s a hushed eruption of conversations that bubbles ever so slowly amongst the townfolk at the astonishing notice and you freeze, petrified when eyes stray toward you, almost accusingly. You realise, with horror, they’ve recognised the vestal nun in the description.

You breathe heavily and your gut begins to twist into an uneasy coil when the commissioner’s fingers point directly at you.

Your desire to evaporate heedily rushes into your mind and something akin to being a criminal overwhelms you. When you step away to sprint far, you are seized by heavy men as they haul you off the earth by your limbs.

The thousand pair of ears at the town’s center fall deaf to your scattered pleadings— screams. Heartlessly, they drag you to the threads of your last few breaths and you helplessly submit, falling prey to your fatigue from the endless stream of tears that races down your rosy cheeks.

Your wails are unheard as the elder women of your town shield you from the public view, sit you in a warm creek and wash you in the clear stream, no different from a creature to be sacrificed for their religious rituals.

You croak out the last of your pleadings before the sun sets, and the women only watch you with nothing more than pity in their eyes.

Their hands are hurried as they strip you and dress you in the most rouge of all cloaks in the town, steam your hair dry, stain your lips with sliced beet, trace the lines where your lashes lie with charcoal.

Other than the sizzling charcoal that dries your tresses and your dull sobs, the creek is silent even as the herd of women stand together.

When you are sat and tied to the sacrifice stone, you shriek with more violence than gales. The ties that bound your limbs to the stone would not come loose at the desolate way you cried.

You sobbed and sobbed and sobbed until your throat closed on itself and you felt the heaviness on your eyelids. Fatigue beckoned you and you obeyed, submitting to it unconsciously.

The stillness of the air seemed to suck even the sound of the chain’s clanks when you moved your limbs into the nothingness of the cave. Even the trees seemed not to rustle as if they were tense with nerves for what was to come.

You jostled awake when the trees rustled and a strong wind blew from nowhere, chains rattling at your limbs’ sudden motion.

Trees stood naked as they had before, but their twigs curled in a distorted way, as if the tree itself screamed in pain.

The sky was a mass of grey cloud, again so ordinary for autumn, but instead of letting small shafts of light through they emitted an ethereal glow.

The wind was just as bitter as before, coming straight from the north, but the scent was something else, metallic almost, with a tinge of acrid burning.

The fire that kept you warm flicker, casting an ominous glow throughout the tunnel, causing shivers to ripple across your body. You drag your legs across the surface of the sacrifice stone, gathering yourself into a ball.

Wind streams through the tunnel, waking the bats in the cave, twirling them in the air, only to drop them off into the void. All signs of life vanish from the tunnels that were once so full of warmth and the fire becomes extinguished.

You peer as you stare at the mangled stone beneath you.

A heinous laugh echoes throughout the tunnel, rebounding off the crumpled walls, and you crawl closer to the wall in sorrow. Like the cave, your soul is too abandoned and then all fades to black.

You shut your eyes and sit, quivering in fright as footsteps echoed menacingly. There was a hoarse breathing heard dully and you began to hear your own whimpers.

At an unexpected chime of the hour, through the empty night, a gentle voice calls out your name.

Your arms tighten around your body and the curtain of your hair falls around your face, shielding your view of the silhouette growing in front of you.

“Tuscany’s most loveliest lily”, the voice shallows into a soothing whisper and a woody fragrance tickles your nostrils. Your mind ticks at the familiar syllables uttered out and something blossoms in you besides fear, your features contour into slight puzzlement.

“I climb so high, lost in the sensation, I succumb to the scent of the stream that runs in your veins”, you listen more closely.

“I cry out in pleasure, my body on fire, I cling to your scent, hunger feeding my desire”, by then, you are sure of the stanza. It was what licked your insides, it was what beckoned you to sin. The lines were your admirer’s.

Then, it pauses.

The voice is gone, so is the scent. You push your tresses off your eyes and cautiously look in the dead of the night that seemed alive a few moments prior.

Something creeks and rustles at the faintest— right behind your neck, causing its hair to stand. There’s something behind you. Or rather, someone.

Your eyes shut at the feeling of a cold breath tickling the locks of your hair. When a thick strand is pulled and a deep inhale is heard, you whip to find only emptiness.

There’s a few moments of listening to only your anxious breath and thuds of your breathing heart before a fine piece of silk is wrapped around your eyes.

You let out a startled scream at the sudden hindrance of your sight and the feeling of a glacial pair of brawny arms sheathing around your waist. A set of black dots disperse in your vision and your mind is lulled by a hushed, smooth voice into your ear.

“Found you, my little fawn”.

You regain consciousness in a dimly lit room, on a lush, oak-coloured duvet. With the movement of one leg the tell-tale clink of wine bottles rouses you and one blink of the eye tells you that your head is just as bad. You squint, dry mouth sticky with thick saliva and your legs are immediately pulled to your chest at the queer recognition of the place.

You feel as though you have lived a very long time in this colossal manor.

The Manor grew out of the manicured lawn like an infant castle. It’s nascent stone walls were a pale grey and were barren of the moss or ivy that clung to the walls of the older homes in the village. Its large oak door was double wide and was sheltered under a wide porch supported by stone pillars. The entry way was grandiose, sweeping into a wide circle in front of the dwelling with an ornate fountain in the center.

As seconds advance, your mind harks back to unfamiliar images in the same space— a young woman in an elegant frock chortling as she gets chased by a burly yet, slender man who looked youthful as well.

His laboriously chiseled face, cheekbones that had near pierced his flesh had led to sunken eyes, puddles of avarice set about them.

Dark hair covering his head, long and fragrant with rose thorns.His chin, one such extremity which sought to put his cheekbones to shame, it succeeded in its purchase to pierce its own flesh. A small scab could be seen about it’s exit, to which his hand tended to itch.

A thick, velvety cape traces his sturdy steps— chasing after the woman and you gasp when her face comes into your sight.

It is you.

Only, more alluring in the gown that hugs your— her curves. Her laugh is unceasing and sultry mostly, seductive.

Your eyes dilate when you see her unhitch the ties holding her robe to her curves and like a vixen, she steps out of it, lying back on the duvet, beckoning for the ethereal man to her.

He seemed ravenous, his irises iridescent as they turn from raven to crimson at the sight of the slick between her legs.

She seemed brazen, like a cur in heat, in need of flesh when she crawled upon the alluring man, rolling her hips into the air provocatively, she caused the balls of the man to get filled, none similar to your dainty facet.

She takes his girth into her lips, making the count seethe in pleasure, her tongue wrapping around its head, she makes him bellow like a buzzard when she takes him deep into her throat and teases his balls.

He looks feasted, satiated beyond syllables when she licks every inch of his hard wood and takes him to a state of druken stupor.

Your breathing comes out in strained huffs as you watch him take her— you as he presses his lips against her skin and utters words that make her keen and bawl in pleasure.

You watch as their naked flesh twist gracefully into one and something else begins to unravel in your memories.

Where there should be blank space is blank memories, like a soft beige wall bereft of photographs. It brushes through the subconscious, recalling memories that bring out the deepest spark of nostalgia of the soul.

You recall every single one of it, your eyes shut intuitively and you sink into a rather familiar abyss of lost memories. In it, you hold hands with the same man who appeared moments prior. Only now, you know his name.

The one who loved you past all the years that went like streams to the sea, in all your lives as a mortal.

“Soft. Your hands. Soft and warm - on my face, on my chest, in my dreams, in the umbrella of dawn, under the first streams of morning light. Your hands in the pitch black of night, muscles and tendons dancing between each other in a lover’s dance. Fingertips like matches grazing my skin with flame, our scars being the measure of our love. I bare my scars, because I remember the time when your flame danced on me forever, before your hands turned to ice.”

All of your admirer’s words make sense to you. The lost passion, the lost memories, the lost life of yours as the light left your eyes when humans attacked the manor you had peacefully lived in.

There was a deep cut in the skin of your neck from the shattered pieces of glass and a heavy cry escapes the throat of the man at the dreadful sight— you, on the Jimin’s thighs, in his arms as he cried for you to not leave him.

You had smiled and reached your hand to his cheeks, engulfed his lips in one last passionate kiss before your eyes shut on its own, soul departing your frail body.

You see him, your past lover begging for you to return, you see his brothers lifting you into your grave.

Shudders rack your body and your cheeks are wet when you open your eyes to the present, to find the shadowy, familiar presence sitting right across you, his arms prop his chin upright and his eyes drink you in.

Jimin steps from the shadows, stealing your breath and the heat from your skin. Suddenly your defences are just paper, paper that is being soaked by the rapidly falling briny drops.

Before you can draw in the air your body needs, you have melted into his form. You feel his firm torso and the heart that beats within. His hands fold around your back, drawing you in closer.

You feel your body shake, crying for the missed time the two of you will never make again, crying to release the woe of long years in separation.

He caresses your cheeks and wipes the tears with a calloused finger, even this roughness brings more relief than your heart can hold. He is eating you with his eyes, running his hand through your hair, as if he cannot quite fathom you are not part of an almost forgotten dream.

When he kisses you, it is sweet, gentle, and it tastes of your tears. You want to speak but all you can do is croak,

“Jimin”.

His mouth paints a soft smile and he kissed you once before folding you in his arms again.

“My beautiful peony, my little fawn, my love, my heart, my entire world. It was never your fault”, he mutters and you keen closer to him, pulling his mouth to yours once again. You close your eyes shut at the feeling of his tongue twisting with yours and your knees lose strength, sending you spiralling into his arms.

“Oh, how I missed having you close to me, seeing yet, not being able to ravish is a curse” he whispers and you feel the heat pooling in your core when he noses at your jugular and inhales your scent.

“The scent of your blood remains heavenly through the ages” he sings, arms digging further into the curve of your waist.

“And this musky arousal—”

You gasp when you feel the tips of his nimble fingers brush the crotch of your undergarment, relishing in the heat of your wetness.

“This time, I’ll have you breathing for eternity, little fawn. I’ll turn you into what I am”. He declares with a stern voice, consuming the breaths that escape your lungs.

When you stare into his crimson irises, you pray for his touch, beg for what he promises. “Claim me, my lord. I’ll spend an eternity in your arms. Touch me, make me yours”.

Surely, it would be yes. The count was a notorious rake and libertine. He was called a thorough and absolute rouge, true to his name. How could he possibly turn down the chance to debauch the most delicious little fawn tempting him to revel in her taste?

With one kiss, Jimin swooped you off the floor and completely into his arms, transporting back to the cave you were sacrificed in.

He had planned for the entire town to hear your wails of pleasure. When you felt and heard the rattling of chains around your limbs, you shrieked, startled.

“No need to be afraid, my lovely fawn. I only wish to show these mongrels who you belong to”. Jimin expounds, making your core clench in need.

“Touch me, my lord” you scrounged like a fox, coaxing the ravished count with the tantalizing motions of your hips.

“Disrobe for me, little fawn. Take that sheer robe off, I want your naked flesh”, Jimin snarls and his mouth waters when your dainty fingers scramble to untie your gown. You sputter, your cheeks flush a vivid red at his grimy words.

Fear. Nerves. And illicit, forbidden, wrong physical desire. You felt it all at once.

Jimin bent to you and pressed his lips to your neck. The oddest jolt of fire leapt from there. It rushed through your veins like flames licking at the sky.

His hair tickled the bones of your cheek as he stroked and hollowed his mouth along your throat and reached the rim of your ear. He brushed back your hair. Surprisingly, his breath was cool. Almost icy. You had heard women speak of men blowing their breath by their ears—something that hadn’t sounded at all enticing—but the maids had described warm breath. Jimin’s breath was cold.

Still, the brush of it did feel surprisingly … good.

He nibbled your ear, making shivers tumble down your spine. He stroked the exposed skin at your collarbones. Goodness, how could it feel so hot—like a candle’s flame flickering close to your skin?

He tugged your cowering hands away to expose the swell of your breasts. His body tightened with arousal at the sight of your full, generous curves, erection bucking against his stomach.

Pushing you on the boulder, he ravaged your mouth, letting his hands venture down to the cleft of your arse. You bucked at the foreign feeling, gasping at the feeling of his tongue suckling the soft flesh of your lips into his mouth. His tongue curls around yours and he suckles it too, making you melt into a puddle in his full hold.

His mouth traces your throat and when it ghosts over the curve of your breasts, you shudder and your skin breaks into goosebumps.

He suckled. God, you were delicious. And you were moving beneath him. You arched to press your breast to his mouth.

Your scent reached his nose. And, he was lost. Lost in want. He rolled over you, coaxed your legs apart with his, and settled between, caressing your sweet cunny all the while. You gasped at the feeling of his thumb rolling your pearl and whimpered when his middle finger found your entrance, dipping to revel in your slick insides.

Oh goodness, he had flicked that most sensitive place—the little bump that lay between your nether lips, and you almost rolled her eyes back into your head at the pleasure.

Your hips arched up. He stroked you a little harder, as if he had known the rocking of your hips was a wordless signal that meant: I am begging you for more.

Then he slid his finger inside you. Between your nether lips, parting them gently. Goodness, he was inside you. You were doing the most intimate thing possible. With the man who remained an enigmatic admirer in your mind until the touch of his fingers tainted your soul, with the man who held your heart for eternity.

“Open your eyes.”

The first things you saw were thick, velvet-soft black lashes and gorgeous crimson eyes. Eyes that glittered at you in the firelight. “I want your eyes on me” he ordered huskily.

Then his finger slid deep inside, and you gasped at the sudden sensation—an intense quiver that rushed through you. You heard a shocking wet, sucking sound as his finger thrust in and out. It was the sound of your arousal.

“Let your moans out, little fawn. I wish to hear your sweet voice” he coaxed.

Biting your lower lip, you whimpered. You didn’t want to speak. The pleasure his wizardry brought was fervent, it felt foreign yet, acutely compelling and delicious. It made you drool, you needed him, flesh, bone, heart, soul.

His hand moved and he stopped stroking the little nub that vibrated with such intense feeling. You gasped in frustration.

He wrapped his hand around the shaft of his erection—you could feel the brush of his fingers against your stomach as he took hold of himself. Then, with his hand tight around it, he stroked the head of his erection against your nether lips. They had stuck together, resisting him, but he gently eased them apart.

Your arms were splayed on the mangled boulder beneath you and your eyes appeared to have gotten a taste of heaven, hands clenched in tight fists, toes curled and digging into Jimin’s hips at his ease into you.

Deeper he went, and his manhood stroked a place inside you that made explosions of light in front of your eyes. Then a twinge of pain rushed through you and you gasped in shock.

His fingers traced the curve of your cheek. “Shh, my fawn” he whispered. “Easy. It will hurt when I go past your little maidenhead. But after that it will be very, very good.”

“Jimin—”

He thrust. You squealed. You clenched. You tightened. You wanted to back away. But you couldn’t vanish into the boulder. Nor could you push him off. There was a searing pain that burned the walls of your insides yet, the delicious stretch of his girth brushed the softest tissue that made your mouth open wide, soundlessly and expose your luscious throat for his mouth to marr.

Jimin’s lips suckled every inch the clammy flesh of your shoulders and breasts— until lilac bruises respired in its wake. The perked peaks of your breasts were soft and toothsome in his mouth. And the tiny heels of your palms digging into his chest felt euphoric, he wished for it to caress his veiny member instead.

His nose nudged into your sternum, imbibed the scent of rushing blood to your breasts. His eyes shut as he sniffed deeply, his fangs grew in length and a gravelly groan rumbled from his chest at the redolent aroma of your blood.

“You feel warm and soft, my delicious little fawn. I could forever inhale this toothsome stream running through your veins”.

Without stalling, Jimin enveloped the teat of your breast into his mouth and laved, before piercing his honed fangs into the soft flesh, guzzling at the divine, rouge liquid that leaked onto his pearly teeth and sharp tongue, making you hiss at the feeling.

The feeling was gut-wrenching at the onset, it made you scream into Jimin’s shoulders.

He pressed against you, seating himself all the way inside, and he didn’t move. He stayed motionless, and he rained kisses on your forehead, cheeks, lips. It was hard to feel pain with such glorious kisses stealing your breath. And little by little, the stinging sensation ebbed.

A few moments of incessant suckling and your strained huffs at the strokes of his tongue on your tormented peak unfolded a queer pleasure, obscure to be produced by human males.

Soon, each suckle and lave from Jimin’s mouth pulled you to the white, hazed edge of pleasure and you cried out in ecstasy. Your cheeks were riddled hot, body spasmodic, in graceful waves as you began to roll your hips.

You whispered, “More”, Then you saw his sculpted visage.

He looked starved, ravenous. He looked raw, ravaged, tormented. His eyes were wild. His mouth was a slash, bracketed by harsh lines. He looked as though his control could snap in a heartbeat.

“My lord?” you called for him.

“You are tight, sweet, and perfect, my fawn. So no, I am no longer all right.”

You let your arms slip from his neck, but your legs were still wrapped around him, and his groin, hot and hard, was pressed tight into you. Then came the gratifying wave of pleasure as Jimin rolled his hips into yours, his girth slipping in and out of you, wholly, fulfillingly.

Gods, he was huge. The thick, hot, pulsing hard muscle of his legs throbbed against your thigh. His big manhood twitched inside you— feeling as thick as your arm. He groaned, kissing you fiercely as he moved his hips and nudged his swollen head further inside, almost into your cervix. You cried out, feeling it pulsing into your drooling slit.

With a moan into his lips, you strained your thighs and allowed him to pound in and out of you, the thick, slick shaft of his cock sliding wetly out from between your lips as you groaned throatily.

“Have a screaming orgasm, little fawn.”

He circled his hips as he said it, stroking his long shaft within you. He planted one sweet, sensual kiss after another on your lips, and kept your gaze locked with his.

You watched a smile touch Jimin’s full, handsome mouth. Then groans deepened the lines framing his lips. His eyes glowed as if they were on fire, and his deep, throaty moans … You drink all of them.

You were weak with pleasure, yet driven to rock with him. You clung to him, arching your hips, panting. Your nipples had hardened, and each thrust brushed them against his chest. Lips tingling from kisses, breasts throbbing from swift brushes, your quim pulsed … and fire raged in you, hotter than fire and you screamed as you came, body spasmodic.

He held you as his lips slurped at the slop of blood from the punctured marks on the peaks of your breasts.

It is when he pulls out of your body, he turns. This time, his eyes travel below your navel and licks at your core. There’s a thin stream of his release that flows from within you and there is a whit of warmth that seeps along with it, making his stomach clench with carnal hunger.

Carnal lechery for your blood and the musk of your release, it blows like a breeze over him.

Your fragrance consisted of a scent that represented freshly cut timber, like the damp forest after a rainy day; you smelt heavenly, like fresh-scented pine and honey, he wanted to indulge in the depths of the hint of cinnamon-like musk it produced.

It is the blood that reflected your lost virginity, your lost innocence. You are no more vestal, he has made you sin.

In the depths of night, your eyes were dew, scattering the nascent rays, ever illuminating the dark in his soul and he lusted vigorously for the taste of you, to let him be consumed by everything you offer to give him.

And so, he chains your limbs again, and blinds your vision for the nonce, for your senses to get heightened, for your slick to stream like nectar from ambrosia.

You gasp quietly at the impairment of your vision.

His fingers pluck a pair of pampas grass fluttering in the wind and when you feel it caress the tiny puncture holes at your sensitive nipples, you whimper, your slick caressing Jimin’s chest.

His lips find purchase at your inner thighs, fangs shallowly sinking into the soft flesh. The feeling makes your toes curl and you croak his name out in pure bliss.

“How delicious, your scent is divine, my fawn” he growls and pulls your core to his nose with vigour while you attempt to slither away, shyly.

“Trying to escape my grasp is useless, little fawn” he warns, making you cry out at the feeling of his arctic breaths blowing over your sensitive core.

“I’ll catch you faster than the wind could sheath around you” he gutturally breathes and spreads you beneath him, holding your soft thighs in his metal hold.

He moved lower, his breath teasing over your thigh. And then, you felt it, and the moan of pure ecstasy tore from your lips.

Jimin’s hot, wet tongue delved between your lips, dragging slowly and wetly up every bit of you until it flicked across your aching clit. You moaned in pleasure, crying out as his powerful hands pushed your legs wide apart and his wicked tongue pushed deep between them.

With a moan, your eyes flew open to see his face hovering above your delicate and exposed core. His eyes glinted wickedly at you, and you watched, panting in pleasure as he slowly licked his lips clean.

“Like nectar,” he growled. “Lie back, little fawn. Lie back and let me taste you.”

He moved back in, and suddenly, you moaned loudly. The feeling was like nothing else you had ever felt — this perfect, electric feeling of his icy tongue teased over your lips and clit. His wide, strong tongue dragged up and down your pussy, making your whole body arch and tremble for him. You balled your fists and cried out into the flickering firelight of the cave.

He slid his tongue deep inside, spreading your lips with his fingers, dragging your sticky wetness up from your opening to slide electrically across your aching clit. You arched my back and cried out as his tongue made contact there. It curled at your bud, bringing whimpering mewling sounds to your lips before sliding down through your folds again. You stiffened, and then moaned as you felt that hot, wet tongue slide wickedly against the opening of your arse, making you gasp as it slid over the sensitive ring there.

You couldn’t believe the sensations flooding your body at the touch of this rough, powerful, demanding, gorgeous man — from the rouge who was gentle to a creature with hound-like   lust for your dripping arousal and blood.

His tongue pushed against your opening, pushing in to curl sensually inside of you. His thumb moved to your clit, his growl rumbling through me as he teased your little bud and tongue-fucked your slippery core, making you clench and arch your back off the stone under you.

You screamed as the orgasm exploded through you, hips bucking against Jimin’s perfect mouth. Your core clenched at the invading tongue, spasming around its thick wetness while the orgasm ripped through me. The famished count hungrily growled and pushed his tongue deep inside, tasting all of your virginal blood as the aftershocks exploded through you.

Slowly, he pulled away, his lips trailing over the little seam of your inner thigh as your whole world spun under you.

The feathery leaves of the pampas grass caressed the seams following his mouth and you felt his arms lifting you onto his lap, straddling him. He gently entered you again, mouth tracing the prominent vein at your jugular, tongue teasing it.

You shook and rippled around his thick wood, chains rattling loudly as you bite at every inch of his skin that your mouth could reach.

“I am going to turn you, my sweet fawn. Tonight is perfect, the moon is hidden and the branches sing for us. Let it all out, scream my name” they are incessant breaths against your jugular and you clench around him, hearing him cry out his devotion for you.

“I am ready, my lord. Turn me, I— I belong to you!” you cry out as the tip of his girth brushes your most sensitive spot.

Then the whooshing wind caresses your bare bodies, you feel the chains loosen and fall to the ground while Jimin embraces your shaking body entirely, increasing the pace of his inhuman thrusts.

His mouth takes yours and swallows your pleasured pants, yours tongue mulls his own when he feels your fingers thread through his soft locks and dig into his scalp. His hold on your hips are deathly and when he feels you clench and pant harder, he bites into the inside of his cheeks, closing his eyes as his blood trickles from his mouth, into yours.

Your throat closes at the repulsive, metallic taste and you gag, making Jimin tighten his hold on you. He twists your tongues together and urges you on, making you swallow down the thick drops of his blood.

When you feel his member caressing that sensitive spot of your insides once again, you gulp faster and Jimin smiles blissfully into your mouth as his tongue traces the sharp lines of your protruding canines, they course rapidly into pointy knives and he relishes in the sharpness of your fangs, tongue drinking your breaths in.

There’s an ethereal glow of light sheathing around the two of you. For a nonce, the bright, golden-silvery stratum panelling over you in particular makes the deep, dark abyss of the night seem like day. The round curves of your orbs sparkle an aurish dust and makes you look more beguiling than any other supernatural power to ever exist.

Jimin feels the illuminance and shuts his eyes in ecstasy for the warm streams of your blood chills into familiar ice, the same temperature as his. Your thrusts are gentled and you cry out in a new found lust for Jimin’s blood.

He can feel the urgency in your gulps as you grow more hungry for blood, his blood. He shudders when you sink onto him again, tilting his head to pierce your fangs into his throat.

He groans at the pleasurable feeling of your mouth gulping his blood hungrily and he forces you to pause, for his eyes to drink in the birth of your vampiric form.

The moment you open your eyes and stare into his, his breath catches.

Your orbs are a beautiful, fierce topaz-crimson and there is a bleached tone added to the luscious sheen of your skin, when you lick the drops of his blood from your lips, exposing the knives of your fangs, he feels the carnal lechery for you boil in his heart and stir at his manhood.

You are fully turned, looking like the goddess of death herself, veiled in an ethereal halo in the deep, dark, inked night.

His eyes drink your appearance ravenously and he concludes. Carnal lechery for you, that’s what possessed him all those years ago, that’s what drives him to sink his fangs into your flesh and drink your sweet blood over and over.

You are turned and you are eternally bonded to him, there’ll be no mongrel mortal in this universe to take you away from him.

Autumn days wane toward the inevitable colder weather ahead, each nightfall coming sooner that the one before.

Seven days were gone ever since you were welcomed and brought to the Rouge’s dwelling, the rocky fort miles away from your grim, little mossy town.

Topaz leaves dangled from the shadowy skeletons of trees, each one like as ominous sword of Damocles. The river was almost ice, showing reflections of the heavy, ashy sky so thick. The chill breeze rattling at the closed windows of the fort seemed to cry autumn, the roads were moist with stealthy dew as the season deepens their graceful boughs will be the prettiest of charcoal sketches, drawing themselves tall, reflecting the light of a wintry sun.

You are huddled in the silky red sheets of Jimin’s large duvety mattress, the lines of your naked legs traced by the sheets. You lie fatigued after a thorough session of lovemaking with your mate while he wordlessly caresses your hair, eyeing your curves, breathing the essence of your hair as he licks the remains of your dried blood from your breasts.

The sudden slam of the door came like a punctuation. There were panicked calls all around in the veranda and one of the maids peek their head through the door to the master chamber, her chest rising and falling in urgency.

“Forgive me for barging in, master and mistress”, she breathlessly bows, making you both rise, startled. You scatter to cover your body with the sheets while Jimin groans and ties his night robes to shield his body.

“Master, we seem to have an intruder. The other masters summoned you to the court immediately”, she keeps her eyes low and Jimin barks at her.

“How would we have an intruder? This fort is well protected!” he grunts and turns to you, placing a soft kiss on your lips as you eye the maid scurrying away, bowed.

“I’ll be right back, my love. You might as well get dressed".

You smile and pull on your silky night robes to your body, mindlessly staring at the creaking trees in the wind while Jimin marches to the veranda, his booming commands slowly ebbing away.

For a few ticks of chime, you hear nothing but the rustling leaves, sparrows chirping at a distance and the echoes of voices downstairs. When the door to the chamber you lie in opens on the spur of the serene moment, you fall back and onto your elbows, on the cottony patchwork of the carpeted floor.

A loud gasp knocks your lungs at the sight of the familiar fern-eyed, thick woman looming over you, offering her hand.

Siena. She is puffing out harsh breaths and her legs tremble, hasten. She seems too afraid as her eyes cavort to the door in trepidation and you realise, she is the intruder.

“Y/N! Y/N. You should listen to me, you should run away, the one you are with is a monster!” she hastily whispers, gripping at your arm.

You yawp at her gnawing grip and attempt to pull your arm to yourself and grit your teeth. At the sight of your crimson eyes, Siena’s hold gets loosened.

“H—he turned you, didn’t he?” she utters in shock, something in her eyes clutches at her back again and she pleads you again. You sigh and move to the chamber’s doors, pulling the latch to lock and you turn to face her.

“I am sorry sister Siena, but I must ask you to leave. History does not tell the truth. The Rouge were innocent, it was the people who broke the treaty”.

You eye her pitifully. She had come all the way for vain.

“Jimin is by nature of laws, my soulmate. I cannot live apart from him, I am no longer one of the mortals”. You proclaim, clasping your fingers together.

“Now, please leave—”

“I am afraid you do not know everything” mumbles Siena quietly, her olive eyes swimming in a stream of exigency, her limbs still tremble.

“Who has Park claimed to have murdered you in the past, Y/N?”

The will to not let her affect your resolution faintly faltered at the sight of her tenacity, she shakes similar to a leaf jostled by storm gales yet, her eyes remain adamant.

“Tell me, please”, she begs to the extremity of crumbling, her orbs trembling just as much as her limbs do.

You release the air from your lungs and mutter softly— “Humans. The ancestors of our town. I saw it, the evocation of my past self, I was killed by the town folks”.

Siena shook her head, her face contouring into a brew of disdain as well as pity, you were almost uncertain if it was aimed towards you.

The whooshing gales and Siena’s voice seem the same when she mutters out what earth had not devised itself ready to hear.

“No, my dear. It was not the town folks who had killed you, it was the very man you share this bed with, the most conniving, astute count amongst his brothers— Park Jimin of the Rouge!”

And in that light the carpet of leaves became crooked, and all aurish colours vanished, the wind tumbling around the empty space. Your heart pounded wildly in your chest and your face morphed into one of disdain, you were abhorred yet, shattered to the ground like the dry twigs stepped on by passing carts.

You knew nuns took an oath to preserve and authentic despite the unembellished life they lead because you were one too. Siena was not lying, every single word of hers proves to be true only by the contours of concern etched on her face.

“H-how? I—” you flounder like a fish taken out of the pond.

Siena sighs dismally. “When I went to the elder canonesses on halloween night, the eldest of them apprised a hidden tale of a young town girl and her lover— Hyun woo whose throats were silt by the third youngest of the Rouge”,

“Only sister Ann knew the story behind it”. You listened carefully, feeling prostrated mercilessly.

“Park Jimin had found his consort and by the scent of her blood, he knew she was destined to be bonded to him by nature’s law. But, she was irrevocably in love with another mortal to whom she had been having love affairs with, even as she was taken against her will to the Rouge fort”,

“An infuriated Park had butchered the young woman’s lover in front of her whilst the woman pleaded and cried for the man’s life. As days passed, Jimin’s consort became coldly vacant in grief",

You were turned into stone at her words.

“She had ultimately repudiated to consummate their bond. The same night when Jimin had killed her to erase the memories of her lover, the town folks declared a war to avenge Hyun woo and rescue the young woman. Park Jimin had promulgated to his brothers that the woman was killed by humans, he must have recast your past self’s memories, Y/N! He is not the gentle lover you loyally surmise him to be!”

One time when you were blind in a tree, waiting motionless for wind to wander by, you dozed off and fell ten feet to the ground, landing on your back. It was as if the impact had knocked every wisp of air from your lungs, and you lay there struggling to inhale, to exhale, to do anything.

That was how you felt at the moment, your ribs felt crushed into a mere refuse, fear and disgust of your past killer’s touch burned everywhere, the faded puncture marks on the peaks of your breasts, thighs, neck, shoulders felt as if touched by the flicks of flame, you felt abhorred.

Even the loud rap of knocks and thuds on the door to the chambers were heard, you were frozen into ice. Eyes teary, vision blurred, you fell to the ground, crestfallen.

Siena shakes you harder in panic at the sight of the door’s latch rattling violently, the sundry of voices with Jimin’s voice rack unpleasant shudders through her spine as she attempts to resuscitate you to the present.

A single squawk like a squall causes the doors to shatter as if hurled to the ground by a tempest. Park Jimin stands sited at the other side. There is not a sliver of a plinth to hold his rage in place, he looks irked to the brim of extremes.

“Seize her!” he barks and by the tick of a second, Siena is hefted into the air by a couple guards, their grasps cause her to bawl in pain.

“Y/N! My dear, what did she do to you?“ Jimin’s voice is mellowy as he gathers you into his arms, perusing your form thoroughly.

Like the mountain river under sunlight, like snow melting under the beaming sunlight, like the gentle song of the topaz leaves swaying in the autumn breeze, his voice was pleasant as beautiful as his perfectly sculpted face.

You shake away weakly from his grasp and his face withers, twinging a deep cut into your heart.

“You cold-blooded murderer, let her free”. You mutter, abhorred and stare at him, as empty as the ocean at night.

Jimin peruses Siena and you wordlessly, taken aback by your sudden disgust. When you see his head lift and lips curl to one side, you see the once loving mate of yours turn into the callous, blood-thirsty hound of a creature that slaughtered so many lives for its own illiberal gain.

“I see my little fawn has discovered the truth”, he heinously chuckles, making you swallow down in utter disgust.

“It was worth the effort, was it not?” he perches himself on his lush seater loftily, a wicked grin stretches his lips at Siena’s struggles.

“Now that I have the maiden of my dreams to myself”, he wickedly whispers, his sharp eyes travel down your body as he slips his lower lip into his mouth.

“I can debauch her to my heart’s content” his eyes are demanding as they meet yours, his slender fingers tipping against the mahogany handle of his seater.

“What causes you to think I would submit to you?” you spew the words like venom as the haughty count feigns hurt, crumbling to the ground.

In a blink of an eye, Jimin whooshes at an inhuman pace across the chamber to you, gripping your jaws tight from the behind as he has his own clenched. Your wrists are pressed together at your back and he presses his chest to your back.

You attempt to wriggle away at the bulge pressing into the cleft of your arse and you screech at his hold.

“What can be done by a little fawn like you, against me? There is a reason why I did not wait even for an hour to turn you that night”. He lilts mockingly, lips brushing the lobe of your ear.

“Oh, little fawn. I had become the master of your body, soul and mind duly after turning you. Every single thought that runs in this little head, I can hear it”. He declares, arms slithering around your body in a vice-like grip.

“After decades of longing, I finally had you. Would I not have prepared for the same mistake to never occur again?” he presses his nose to your jugular, breathing your scent. It makes him roll his eyes in pleasure as the heavenly scent tickles his lungs.

Your fighting limbs fall limp as his fangs pierces the skin of your jugular, taking little gulps of your sweet blood.

Siena screams as she realises the actions performed on you by the count. She seethes and cusses, fighting against the guards’ hold on her.

“Forget everything that makes me bad in your eyes, little fawn”,  Jimin whispers pleasantly, making you fall into a lull of sleep with a soft hum.

“Only I am your love, only I am your lord, no other mongrel of a mortal owns you, forget it all, my one and only little fawn”, he sings soothingly, lifting you in his arms more delicate than a priceless treasure, cooing in adoration at the sight of your angelic face in peace and parted lips, memories flitting you away from him washed away profoundly.

In the course of a mo, Siena’s head is snapped and the poor nun’s body is embedded into the fertile earth heedlessly.

A famished count with an endless carnal lechery presses a soft kiss to your lips and envelopes you in a lover��s embrace, waiting for your eyes to open and say his name sweetly, oblivious to events that have unfolded a very few chimes ago.

Carnal lechery, it was what possessed him to possess you.

© unfurlingtwinklingstar 2020 | all rights reserved | do not re-post/translate

[biggest-stupidhead]

Bad Timing (Levi x reader) Part 10

Summary: How do you tell your friends that you’re falling for your big brother’s best friend? 

Word Count: 4.9 K 

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The loud buzzing of the tattoo gun was beginning to annoy Levi. The little pricks less annoying than the drone of the machine. He winced as the needle skimmed over a sensitive bit of skin.

"Try not to flinch." Farlan scolded as he readjusted his grip.

"Tch, sorry." Levi apologized through gritted teeth. Farlan reached for a wipe to clean off the excess ink, revealing the nearly finished piece. Like his other tattoos, this one was no different, the design was drawn out in thin delicate lines of ink. He had chosen to get this one on his tricep. Farlan spun his chair around to show Levi the design in the mirror, a flower, more specifically a lily of the valley. More specific yet, the flower for the month of May, the month his mother was born.

He nodded in appreciation a she admired the thin stem that led up to delicate bell shaped petals. The stems faded into a two leaves at the base of the design, they were all that needed to be filled in before the piece was complete.

"It looks good." Levi mused as he stared at the aggravated skin, the black lines were outlined with red angry skin.

"Thanks, I must admit I'm a bit rusty." Farlan chuckled as he leaned in with another wipe to clean the tattoo.

"Could've fooled me." Levi muttered as he turned in his chair to give Farlan better access.

"Let me finish this up and then we can go grab some lunch." Farlan gave the tattoo one last wipe down before he wrapped it in sandiderm. Once he was pleased with his work he tugged off the gloves and tossed them into the trash.

"Sounds good." Levi grunted as he stood up from the chair. Farlan had picked up tattooing as a side hustle, not that he booked many clients. It was more of a hobby for him, but he was rather good at it. As Farlan cleaned up the equipment and packed it back into his bag Levi went into the bathroom to wash up before they left for lunch. Isabel was out with friends, she hadn't been particularly interested in visiting the University with Levi and Farlan.

____

Levi trailed a few paces behind Farlan as they wondered through the sprawling campus. The campus had a dark academic vibe to it, with all the gothic architecture and the snowy lawns. Levi's trip was coming to a close, and he was glad that he had managed to squeeze in the visit. He spoke to an advisor, who was very enthusiastic about him applying. He figured that him coming from a single parent home, being an orphan with dual citizenship and good grades probably looked good for their statistics. So Levi and Farlan left, packets of information that they would need to apply. He decided that he should give Erwin a call, since he would be coming back home on the 26th, he originally intended on coming back after the new year but Hange had convinced him to come back early. Of course it was intended to be a surprise for Erwin and (Y/n), he felt bad for leaving Farlan and Isabel early but he figured that he could make up for the lost time when he got accepted into the University. They would have him all to themselves for four years if everything went according to plan.

"This place looks as good as any." Farlan paused in front of a small pub not too far from campus. Levi shrugged and kicked a chunk of ice out of his way. Farlan held the door open for him as they ducked into the dimly lit bar. The two settled into the barstools facing an impressive stock of alcohol, since it was about three in the afternoon the bar was basically empty save for a scraggly old dude that was mumbling to himself in a booth.

"Come here often?" Levi huffed as he inspected the sticky bar top. Farlan chuckled and waved for the bar tender.

"No actually, but I've heard that it's popular with the uni students." Faralan explained as he waited for the bar tender to finish counting the money in his hands.

"Two gin and tonics please." Farlan asked politely, the bar tender nodded and began to make the drinks.

"So you leave in what five days?" Farlan asked as he grabbed his drink and took a long swig.

"Yeah, sorry it was kind of last minute." Levi apologized, Farlan waved him off dismissively.

"Wait what did you get Isabel for Christmas this year?" Farlan asked as he slammed his already drained glass onto the counter.

"I bought her the DVD set for that one show she likes." Levi answered as he nursed his gin and tonic.

"Ah no way! That's a good one! The veterinary show right?" Farlan gushed, clearly impressed with Levi's choice of gift.

"Yeah that's the one." Levi nodded, a small smirk spreading across his lips.

"She'll love that. I got her some new jeans and a stuffed animal." Farlan shrugged, as he motioned for another drink.

"Not the shittiest choice." Levi mumbled as he brought his glass to his lips.

"Thank you Levi." Farlan held his glass up for a toast, and Levi indulged him, gently tapping his glass against Farlan's. Levi knocked back the rest of his drink before pulling out his phone to check his messages.

"What time should I pick you up from the airport?" Levi pursed his lips in thought before responding to Hange's text.

"Six in the morning."  he typed his response quickly and sent it. He had already planned on arriving early to give himself plenty of time to prepare himself for the annual post Christmas party that your family hosted.

"See you then, don't have too much fun in France!" Hange's reply was instantaneous,  Levi hated to admit it but he missed four-eyes and bushy brows. Hell he even missed Erwin's bratty sister.

_____

You draped your arm over your eyes in a feeble attempt to block out the blinding light that was flooding your living room. Although the snow was pretty, it sure was a bitch when the sun hit it, causing the light to reflect sharply in through the large windows in your living room. It was finally Christmas break, and you were enjoying it to it's fullest, basking in your sweats on the couch. Your mom had just gotten back from grocery shopping and was beginning to set out ingredients for the baking that she had planned to do for the rest of the afternoon. Erwin and Hange had gone ice skating with Mike and Nanaba, and planned to all meet up back at your house to assist your mom with the seasonal baking. Your phone chimed on the coffee table and you stretched to check it.

"Coffee and chill? 🥺" You rolled your eyes at Jean's message. He had been trying to contact you relentlessly for the past week. You had evaded him, not quite ready to confront him about his wrong doings. You ignored his text and instead favored to ask Mikasa if she wanted to come over to bake.

"hey I know it's been a while, but want to come over to bake cookies with me today? You could bring Armin and Eren if you want!" You sighed and dropped your phone back down onto the table with a sigh. You were pleasantly surprised by how quickly she responded.

"What time?"

"an hour?"

"See you then :)"  You smiled at the screen as you read her response. You always thought it was cute how she preferred to use characters instead of emojis when she texted. You decided that a shower would be a good idea since so many people were coming over now, so you hustled up stairs. You were thankful that Hange and Erwin weren't home because they had made a habit of interrupting your showers. Whether it was Hange trying to join you in the shower to "save water" or Erwin coming in to take a massive dump while you were in the shower. So you fully took advantage of your uninterrupted shower time while you could. You took your time, washing your hair and the rest of your body and enjoying the hot water. By the time you were finished the bathroom was cloudy with steam from the hot shower. You wrapped yourself in towel and scurried to your room to change. You pulled on a pair of leggings and a cropped fitted turtleneck. You then proceeded to tug on a faded crew neck to complete the look. You loped down the stairs, but paused about half way down. The sound of shoes being toed off and a coat being hung up made you rethink your decision.

"Oh Kenny! I'm so glad you made it!" Your mom gushed and you bristled. It wasn't that you didn't like Kenny, it was just that you weren't expecting him. It seemed that your house needed to keep an Ackerman on hand at all times because as soon as Levi left Mikasa and Kenny began coming around more frequently. Your mom invited Kenny over for coffee on Sunday mornings and you invited Mikasa over for sleepovers and craft nights.

"Hey sorry I'm late, I brought booze though." Kenny's rough voice felt foreign to your ears. Despite his sudden presence at your house he still felt like a stranger to you. Of course you could only blame yourself here, you tried your best to avoid him and his questions, not sure how you felt about the gruff man. He seemed nice enough but you weren't quick to trust him, Erwin certainly wasn't either.

"Ah (Y/n)! Perfect timing! Come down stairs and say hello." your mom called out, you winced but obeyed, descending the last few steps.

"Hey there kiddo, how's it hangin'?" Kenny drawled as you slunk into the kitchen sheepishly.

"Hey Kenny, I'm good how are you?" You asked politely, aiming to please your mother more than Kenny. The man smiled triumphantly and leaned further back into his seat.

"I'm fantastic." he stated with a smug smirk plastered on his lips.

"Mom, I invited Mikasa, Amrin, and Eren over is that alright?" you asked, dismissing Kenny.

"Yeah of course baby, the more the merrier!" she cooed as she continued to set up the mixer and prop up the cook book.

"So my little niece will be joining us tonight?" Kenny affirmed as he stood to help your mother untangle to cord of the mixer.

"Yeah." you trailed off, not sure if this was good or bad. Although the pair had both been frequenting your house recently, they hadn't run into one another yet. You knew that Levi had a bad relationship with his uncle, so you could only assume that Mikasa's relationship was also just as rocky.

"haven't seen that brat since she was in diapers." Kenny mused as he flipped through the cook book.

"really? Well she sure has grown. Such a lovely young woman." Your mother sighed dreamily as she thought about Mikasa.

"Glad to hear it.." Kenny mumbled as he paused on a gingerbread recipe. Before you could decode the meaning behind his bland tone, the door flew open and Hange sauntered in. Today she was dressed for the weather in a downy parka and leggings with a thick crewneck. Erwin followed close behind, dressed in joggers and a t-shirt, he tended to get hot easily. Mike however was different. Mike was dressed for Arctic temperatures with a thick quarter zip underneath his north face and a pair of denim jeans on his legs. Nanaba wore a quarter zip as well but leggings instead of jeans. You rushed to help them shove their coats into the cramped closet and put snowy shoes over vents to melt off the ice. Soon they were all crowding into the kitchen, Mike was quick to help your mom set out ingredients while Erwin went to light the fireplace. Hange was rushing up the stairs and Nanaba was skimming through the cook book.

Ah yes such a familiar scene. You immediately felt better in the presence of the upperclassmen, Kenny seemed to melt into the background as he watched you all fall into a familiar rhythm. Erwin returned to the kitchen, dusting his hands off as he entered.

"Hey." He greeted you with a slight nod before he stooped to pull a baking sheet out of the cabinets.

"How was ice skating?" you asked as you leaned against the counter near Erwin.

"Cold, we saw Petra and Oluo there." Erwin mused as he sat the sheet down with a clatter.

"Really? Are they a thing?" you quizzed, your interest piqued.

"Couldn't say, wouldn't surprise me though." Erwin shrugged, his large frame pressed against the counter opposite to allow Nanaba to squeeze through.

"I don't know Erwin, last time I spoke to her she seemed pretty fixed on Levi." Nanaba interjected as she stooped to pull out a bowl.

"I thought she was over him. He left her hanging at my house a few months back remember?" Mike reminded Nanaba who pursed her lips in thought.

"Oh yeah I remember that...she was upset." Nanaba agreed as she sat the bowl in front of you on the counter.

"Then why was she with Oluo huh riddle me that." Erwin challenged, a sly smirk on his lips.

"Oh they've always been close, doesn't mean she likes him or anything." Nanaba scoffed.

"Well he sure likes her, saw him checking out her ass." Mike chuckled, your mom gasped and hit him upside the head.

"That's enough you guys! (Y/n), Kenny mix cut this butter up." Your mom ordered, grabbing you by the bicep to drag you over to Kenny at the island. She dropped a huge brick of butter in front of the two of you along with two butter knives.

"Oh I can do it on my own mom." you insisted with wide eyes.

"Nonsense, show Kenny how it's done." she slapped you on the back and turned to help Mike crack eggs into the wet ingredients bowl. You and Kenny shared an uneasy glance, you took the knife and sliced the chunk of butter in half. You slid half to Kenny and took the other half for yourself. You began to slice the butter into thin chunks and drop them into a bowl. Kenny watched with raised brows, the knife hanging loosely in his hand. You spared him a glance and an amused huff.

"Just slice it into chunks and drop them in this bowl." you instructed, pushing the bowl closer to him. He chuckled and then began to tediously cut the butter into uneven chunks. You nodded in approval as he began to gain confidence.

"Where does this go once it's done?" Kenny asked as he finished chopping the butter.

"In the mixer." You directed, as you wiped your hands on a damp rag. The doorbell chimed and you weaved through the kitchen to answer it. You were greeted by the familiar faces of Mikasa, Armin, and Eren. The trio piled into the house and kicked off their shoes and shrugged off jackets.

"Perfect timing guys, we just started making cookies." You said as you helped Armin out of his coat.

"Great! We brought our piping tips." Eren said, holding up a plastic bag filled with piping equipment.

"Oh yeah I forgot that you're a natural at cookie decorating Mikasa!" you complimented as you guided them into the kitchen. You placed the bag next to Kenny who was staring at Mikasa with slightly widened eyes, she returned his gaze with a surprised expression.

"Hey hothead!" Hange called out to Eren in a sing song voice as she descended the stairs.

"O-Oh Hange!" Eren cringed at her volume as she swang into the kitchen.

"Hange!" Armin cried out excitedly, you'd known that Armin looked up to the brunette due to her intelligence.

"Aw hello coconut head." she cooed as she ruffled Armin's blonde mop of hair.

"And baby Ackerman!" Hange giggles, turning her attention to Mikasa who was scowling at the brunette.

"So nice to see you all!" Hange gushed as she pulled on an apron.

"That was an awful long shit. You constipated or something?" Mike scoffed as he whisked the eggs.

"Ha ha very funny Mike." Hange scoffed as she sidled up next to Erwin who was crushing almonds loudly with a rolling pin.

"I'm just trying to pick up the slack. Someone needs to make Levi's crass jokes for him." Mike sighed, setting the whisk aside.

"Ah I'm sure he will appreciate the sentiment." Erwin approved with a chuckle and another jaw-rattling smash of the rolling pin.

"Kids why don't you start rolling this dough out and cut them with these." Your mother instructed as she thrust the large mixing bowl into your hands and pointing over to Kenny. You led Mikasa, Armin, and Eren over to the open counter space. Mikasa was side eyeing Kenny as she sprinkled some flour out.

"I want to make a penis." Eren remarked, a stupid look on his face as he looked to Armin for approval.

"That's inappropriate Eren." Armin chided as he reached for the dough in the bowl. He dropped the heavy ball of dough with a thump and a whoosh of flour.

"Hah! I'd like to see it!" Kenny chortled as he brushed some flour off his shirt.

"See he gets me!" Eren chuckled as Armin began to roll out the dough. Mikasa and you both rolled your eyes at the boys. Nanaba breezed by and brushed her hand across both yours and Mikasa's shoulders as she passed.

"You girls want pizza?" She asked with an angelic smile as she stopped by the landline.

"Yes please!" Eren answered before either of you could.

"Shut up Eren!" You snapped before turning to look at Nanaba who was holding the phone up to her ear already.

"Yes please Nanaba, can you put pineapple on one of them?" you asked with a sweet smile.

"Ew pineapple on pizza are you insane?!" Hange screeched from across the kitchen.

"Now now, if you order one with pineapple I'll eat it." Kenny agreed as he pressed a cookie cutter deep into the dough.

"Ugh, you guys are disgusting." Mike shook his head in disappointment as he poured the liquid ingredients into the dry ones for the next batch of cookies.

"Alright everyone be quiet while I order this." Nanaba ordered as she pressed the phone between her ear so she could jot down the orders on a pad of paper. The volume in the kitchen fell from a roar to a soft murmur as Nanaba placed the order. Once Nanaba hung up the phone the bustle picked right back up. The cookie hustle only stopped once all the dough was in the oven and the pizza had arrived.

When it was all said and done you all settled in the living room to watch christmas movies and eat pizza. As the movie began to play you finally took some time to check your phone for the first time all afternoon. You were surprised to see at least twenty messages on instagram from a swagmasterfarlan. You clicked on the first message and your frown deepened.

"cutte assf."  

"Let me show you parish"

"I cantreat you right."

":)"

The seventeen other messages followed a similar pattern. You noticed that the last message that had been sent two hours ago. You glanced at the clock and frowned, it was already eight pm. You considered blocking the account but upon checking, you realized that it was Farlan's  side account. You'd seen drunk texts before and these were no different. You glanced up to see Kenny with his hat over his eyes as he snored on the arm chair. Your mom was already dozing off on the couch with her feet in Erwin's lap, Erwin had an arm around Hange who was babbling about special effects to no one in particular. Nanaba and Mike were in their own little world on the floor as they watched the movie. Eren and Armin were joking in hushed voices as Mikasa's head lolled against your shoulder. Yeah you could use some entertainment.

"I would love to see parish."  you smiled at your response as you sent it. Not two minutes later a new message appeared.

"Woh, I'm durnk as shit."  

"yes you are swagmaster ;)" you responded with a giggle.

"Let facetime before levi punches my face."  Farlan's words were becoming clearer so you figured that he must be sobering up to some degree.

"Alright."  as soon as the read receipts confirmed that he had gotten the message your phone buzzed as he called you. Mikasa grunted as you shifted to answer the call, you answered on the third ring, thankful for the darkness in the room which concealed your features for the most part.

"Heyyyyy kid!" Farlan drawled, you could tell he was in his apartment, the surroundings familiar due to the times you had facetimed Levi.

"Hey Farlan, nice to finally meet you. I've heard all kinds of things." You chuckled as he squinted at his screen.

"No kidding! Hey what time is it over there?" Farlan questioned as he brought his phone closer to his face, giving you a perfect view of his eyebrows.

"It's about 8:30 here, what time is it in perish?" You mocked his blunder from earlier and he gasped in offense.

"That's cold!" he moaned, playing along with your joke.

"Spell it right next time!" you snickered, you glanced up from your phone and met Hange's curious gaze, her head tilted to the left. When you returned your attention back to your phone you were surprised to see the camera was no longer on Farlan's face. Instead it was spinning, the sound of grunting and shuffling was deafening. You winced the struggle continues for a few moments before there was a thud and a deep groan.

"Get into bed now before I punch your lights out." Levi's voice was gravely and strained with exhaustion as he spoke. Hange's ears were still perked as she tried to figure out who you were on the phone with. Once she heard Levi's voice she stood up and skipped over to the sofa to sit next to you.

"I'm serious Farlan this isn't cute get the fuck in that bed or so help me-" the phone clattered down to the floor, and you could make out the sound of stumbling footsteps.

"What is going on?" Hange asked as she leaned on your free shoulder to see the screen. You shrugged and bit your lip as you tried to decipher what was going on.

"No Levi, I've got to talk to her, she's still on the phone!" Farlan grumbled, his voice sounded a bit far away.

"You can talk to her tomorrow just go lay down already." just by the tone of his voice you could guess that he was pinching the bridge of his nose the way he did when he was frustrated.

"nah I'll just go grab my phone and-"

"No." the sound of bed springs creaking and Farlan grunting hinted that he had been pushed onto a bed. After a few more moments of the bed creaking and incoherent mumbling, the sound of footsteps approached the phone and then finally the camera was turned back towards the ceiling as it was picked up. And then Levi's face filled the screen, his eyes widened in surprise, you snapped a screenshot of the moment much to his displeasure.

"What the fuck." he huffed as he took in both you and Hange's amused expressions.

"Hey Levi! How's it going?" Hange cooed as she angled your wrist to show more of her face.

"How-"

"He called me." You answered quickly as you angled the phone back onto your face.

"why?" Levi interrogated. You simply shrugged as you took in his face. You were relieved to see that he looked the same, maybe his eye bags were a bit darker, and his hair a tad longer. But otherwise, he was the same.

"What are you doing?" Levi continued to grill you, to answer his question you panned the camera around the room, sure to not linger on Kenny who was snoring in the chair across the room.

"Thrilling." he scoffed when you brought the camera back to your face.

"Yeah, we spent the day baking. What about you? Seems like you guys are busy." You began your own interrogation.

"Yeah, Farlan had one too many at the bar." Levi agreed as he dropped down into an arm chair with a heavy sigh.

"And you? Did you have anything to drink?" Hange asked with a sly smirk. Levi's brow creased at her suggestive tone.

"If you must know, no I did not drink.... a lot." he answered.

"Lucky, I wish I was drunk right now." you sighed wistfully.

"I never said I was drunk." Levi clarified.

"Any big plans for your birthday Levi?" You asked, quick to change the subject.

"No, just dinner and gifts." Levi replied with a shrug as he sank into the chair.

"That sounds nice." you smiled, Hange dropped her head to your shoulder, her chin digging into your shoulder as she did so. Levi shrugged and averted his gaze for a moment.

"Where's Isabel?" Hange asked as here eyes scanned the background, which was too dark to really reveal anything.

"In her room playing some stupid video game." Levi scoffed as he cocked his head in the direction which you assumed Isabel's room was.

"Fun." Hange mused as she closed her eyes.

"And you? What are your plans for Christmas?" Levi's question surprised you, but you still answered.

"Same as always, gifts in the morning, breakfast, hopefully be plastered by 2." you sighed, Levi scoffed at your answer but seemed satisfied.

"What about the 26th?" Levi asked carefully. you pursed your lips as you thought about your schedule.

"Hmm well I'm not sure, probably-"

"Oh I forgot to tell you, Annie is hosting a party and asked me if you'd come." Mikasa's sleepy voice startled you.

"Really? Huh that's weird. Are you going?" you asked, tilting your face down to speak to her.

"Yeah. We're smoking weed." Mikasa mumbled, her eyes still shut.

"Guess I'll go too." you shrugged. Meanwhile Hange and Levi shared a wide-eyed glance, this could throw off their plans. More specifically Hange's plans, even more specifically her plan to set you and Levi up.

"Weed?" Levi asked, clearing his throat after the word fell from his lips. You knew that he had smoked the stuff in the past, but recently he had stuck to his juul and the occasional dab pen.

"yeah, Annie has like 30 grams right now." Mikasa answered.

"I've never smoked weed before." you mused, excitement bubbling up in your chest at the thought of the chance for a new experience.

"Eh it's okay." Mikasa shrugged.

"Guess I'll just have to try it for myself." you teased, nudging her with your shoulder.

"Guess you will." Mikasa mumbled before falling silent once more.

"Well there you have it. I'm going to Annie's on the 26th." you smiled as you answered Levi's original question. With the 26th only three days away, it gave you something to look forward to.

"Fine. Do  what you want." Levi rolled his eyes and stood from his chair, his whole vibe seemed to change. You wondered if it had been something you'd said or if he was just growing bored.

"I've got to go. Farlan's phone is almost dead." Levi said as he walked through the apartment.

"Oh well it was nice-" before you could finish he had already hung up, or the phone had died.

"Classic Levi." Hange chuckled as she rose up, stretching her stiff muscles before returning to Erwin's side. You rolled your eyes and sat your phone down in defeat. You reached behind you for a throw blanket to cover you and Mikasa, you shuffled over a bit so you were snuggled between the arm of the couch and Mikasa, who had followed you. Using the arm as a pillow you lied down as much as you could with Mikasa still using your side as a pillow, she had stretched out as well to prop her feet up in Eren's lap. Eren was already passed out, his head leaning against Armin's shoulder, who was in a similar position to you. It was nice, you hadn't made much time for nights like these recently. Since you had spent most of your time with Jean you had neglected your friends, and you felt awful about it.

You had missed them deeply, in fact this had probably been the longest you'd gone without a weekend like this. Your family had been close to the Jeagers since you were babies. Your mom and Dr. Jeager both worked at the same hospital and often worked together, they had only grown closer when your father died of cancer when you were 9. Grisha and Carla had helped your mother our a lot the months following his death. Meaning you spent a lot of time with Eren and Mikasa, and by extension Armin. That same year was when they took in Mikasa since Kenny had been deemed "unfit" for a second child in his care. You assumed that the Jeagers would be coming over for Lunch like they always did on Christmas, as well as Armin and his grandfather. You felt your eyelids grow heavy as you thought about all the preparations that were needed for you to host this year, and before you knew it you had fallen asleep.

[krispwrites]

Prompts #2 -- Scents

Morning dew after a rainstorm

Withered rose petals

Sea salt

Burnt sugar cookies

Wet puppy

Bubblegum cotton candy

Paint water

Green tea with honey

Fresh snow

Forest paths

Rooftop restaurant

Cave behind a waterfall

New metal coins

Ink-filled notebook

Wind-carried cigarette smoke

[pinksparklelps]

Haven’t seen you answer any of the ‘send a number’ so I’m assuming you got no asks? So I’m gonna say just do all of them :)

Thank you!!!! Its been so boring just laying in bed cuz sometimes i had to stop listening to music or watching vids cuz i kept getting headaches

1: White Lily Cookie or Licorice Cookie

2: Hornet probably cuz i rlly like cloaks and want one so badly

3: anyone from mlp

4: Fenneco (if thats how you spell it?) cuz i just love how monotonous and blunt she is like her laugh is amazing

5: Hornet!!!! And Pomegranate Cookie!!!!!!!

6: Pipp Petals :D

7: i dunno maybe Golden Cheese Cookie i like her a lot shes so underrated

8: Teth

9: im not a coward i simp proudly

10: i havent started anything new in the past week

11: alll of my favs :) i want a better niko cosplay cuz the one i had was very thrown together cuz my mom and i arent professional costume makers

12: GOLDEN CHEESE COOKIE!!!!!!!!!!

13: Im not sure

14: Squid Ink Cookie they baby

15: Pomegranate Cookie (affectionate)

16: Quirrel and also Hornet just cuz i hug my hornt plush when im scared

17: Pinkie Pie :)

18: oh my god they were roommates probably Parfait Cookie and then we can sing songs :)) i love singing parfaits song

19: fuck i have too many uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh Fizzaroli orr Stolas cuz hell yea star owl man

[miss-eucatastrophe]

Main Pairing: Levi x Erwin x Mike x Thick!Reader/PlusSize!Reader

Summary: When you purchased your first home you’d anticipated it being a turning point in your life. You just didn’t anticipate that turn to give you whiplash.

A new home throws you into a new lifestyle you would have never thought you’d find yourself in-- with three men you’d never expected to be with.

Rated: Explicit [18+]

Main Tags: Polyamory/Polyamorous relationship, BDSM, Attack on Titain Modern AU, Slow Burn, Porn with Plot, Thick!reader, PlusSize!Reader, Chubby!Reader

A/N: I was gonna wait, but I guess I have no self control. 

Chapter 2

A groan left your lips. You were so sore. Who knew that gardening could make someone so sore? Your legs and forearms ached from digging, weeding, and kneeling in the dirt. But the payoff had been near instantaneous. Your little front yard garden was so cute. Time would tell if it would thrive. For now, it was just what you wanted. It was welcoming, and warm; evidence that a new person lived in the house.

“Just gotta keep my flower children from dying.” You mumbled out loud against your pillow. It took great effort to turn your head and face the light shining through your blinds. It was early again. It was shocking you hadn’t been sleeping in late given how busy you were. It was safe to assume it was the excited jitters that came with being a new homeowner. Each day brought a new project. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose, willing yourself to settle your thoughts before they started to list all the things you wanted to do to your house. For now, you settled on nurturing your flower children.

Good ‘ol Google had informed you that you should water your plants every day when you first put them in the ground to get them used to their new home. After that you could settle on a watering routine.

You pushed one foot out of bed, testing the air with your toes like you would a pool, and then groaned, pulling your foot back under the warm safety of the blanket. For a moment you contemplated going back to sleep, but vanquished the idea when the morning sun assaulted your eyes again.

With a determined huff, you threw the covers from your body, taking the plunge into the day. It took you a moment of stretching to drag yourself over to your dresser and throw some clothes on the bed. Something comfortable. You weren’t planning to go out anywhere today, just outside for as long as it took to water your front yard, then you would likely retreat to the comfort of your home. You had a few more boxes to unpack anyway.

After you slipped your clothes on, you made your way down the stairs to your kitchen, petite—but still bigger than your previous. It was the perfect size for a single occupant. In spite of not being hungry in the morning, you forced yourself to make breakfast, hoping the smell of scrambled eggs would coax you into eating by the time it was done. You often skipped out on meals, which was a problem. Perhaps it was one of the reasons for your thickness. Skipping meals could be just as bad as overeating, forcing your body to unhealthily accommodate for the bad habits. It could also be a trigger for overeating later in the day. One of your goals of a new home was to adopt a routine, which included eating regularly.

You spooned your meal onto your plate, adding some toast to it as you made your way to the window of the living room that overlooked your front yard. You yanked open the blinds, eyeing your garden as you lifted toast to your mouth and took a bite. Thankfully, the new plants hadn’t spontaneously combusted in the night. Something you assumed happened if you didn’t have a green thumb.

Noticing movement from the corner of your eye, you turned your head, seeing your neighbor getting into a clean, and rather new looking, truck in an army green color. Mike must have been going to work. You smiled, resisting the urge to wave. He probably wouldn’t have seen you anyway. Moving back to the kitchen table, you sat down to eat your breakfast before placing your dishes in the sink, opting to scrub them later. For now, you’d let them soak. Did they need to soak? No. But letting them soak gave you an excuse to avoid doing them for a few hours until they stared you down later.

Slipping on your shoes, you walked outside and unwrapped the hose from its coil, turning on the spray and providing your plants with much needed sustenance. You started with your potted plants, being reserved with the amount of water you gave your succulents before making your way down the stretch of dirt to the north of your lawn that your new shrubs and flowers called home. You watered your shrubs generously, pausing as you reach your pansies. You glared down at them, some of the flowers had actually had the audacity to wilt slightly. Giving a huff, you changed the function of your hose nozzle, making the flow far gentler as you crouched to examine them more closely.

“If you could not do that, that would be great.” You mumbled at the ungrateful cluster of flowers, eyeing a particularly sad looking petal.

“Flowers being disobedient?” You flinched at the smooth voice and stood right up, turning around quickly. If you hose had been on a higher function you would have sprayed the source. Opting not to take any chances, you quickly moved to stop the flow of water with the switch on the attachment.

You weren’t adequately prepared for what greeted you when you leveled your gaze on the source of the voice. Though after yesterday, maybe you really shouldn’t have been all that surprised. This man was nearly as tall, though not as brawny as your new acquaintance Mike. He had golden hair the color of wheat, and eyes that put oceans to shame under a pair of thick brows. You swallowed, taking note of his jawline and the expanse of his fit torso which was snuggly clad in a white button down. You didn’t realize you could hold contempt for a shirt—but with the sleeves rolled up a pair of strong forearms, it was clear the shirt was hiding impressive goods.

Damn every man in this neighborhood must have been a stud. You weren’t particularly religious, but you felt the urge to praise god for the blessing.

Though he’d probably just strike your down for the unholy thoughts going through your head.  

The clearing of a throat brought your eyes back up to the blond man’s face where a smile sat, not the smirk you’d expected from your obvious ogling. “I’m Erwin Smith. I’m your neighbor.”

“Ah, sorry!” you said quickly, setting the hose down by your tennis shoe clad feet. You wiped your palm as discreetly as you could over your thigh to clear it of moisture from the hose and extended it to him. “Nice to meet you, I’m [y/n].” This hand was soft, but all consuming as Mike’s had been.

Mike.

You suddenly remembered, stopping your handshake abruptly to point to what you assumed was the man’s house. “You’re Mike’s boyfriend?” You probably shouldn’t have blurted that; in case you were wrong. After all, Della had made assumptions about you and Sasha the day you’d moved in. But the stranger, Erwin, only tilted his head and chuckled. “Did he mention me? All good things I hope.” His tone was deceptively casual.

“Uh, no,” you mumbled in embarrassment, clearing your own throat this time as a blush rose to your cheeks. “Della told me there was a couple next door.”

Erwin hummed, a deep and satisfying sound, and nodded his head, though in the next breath he’d seamlessly dodged the question. “Della is such a kind woman. Did she bake for you?”

You smiled brightly, remembering the cookies, and not noticing his lack of confirmation. You’d already drawn your conclusions. “Yeah, the cookies were amazing. I’ve got a theory that she’s a witch.” Oops, word vomit. You were worried that male wouldn’t understand you were joking, but he laughed—to your relief.

“When we moved in, she made a cake.” He leaned in closer to you, his voice just above a whisper, “She might be looking to fatten us up and eat us, so be on guard.”

This pulled a giggle from you, and oh what a pleasant sound to Erwin’s ears, “If Hansel and Gretel could handle it, I think we’ll be okay.” The scent of Erwin’s cologne filled your nose, musk and mahogany flooding your senses and the hint of something else too. Ink maybe.

“I sure hope so,” Erwin leaned back, out of your space, “I would hate to lose our new neighbor so soon.”

Biting your lower lip, you took in air that wasn’t saturated with the blonde’s heady scent.

“Yeah, who would care for my flower children if I died so soon?” You teased, gesturing behind you to the new plants which for the most part looked healthy in spite of the stubborn pansies which seemed hell bent on making your life a little more difficult. The last thing you needed to worry about where flowers. Though your anxiety was probably delighted to have yet another thing to obsess over.

You compared your anxiety to a super villain—someone lingering in the shadows and waiting for the smallest display of weakness through your progress—poised to strike.

Erwin’s blue eyes slid over the greenery before looking up at you. “We’d adopt them for you. No need to worry.” You looked over to Erwin’s home where the lovely magnolia tree grew. Their garden didn’t have as many plants with flowers, but what plants were there were clearly well taken care of. It was mostly green, though the magnolia tree added the perfect little pop of color to an otherwise verdant front yard. “At least I know they’d be going to a good home.”

The male chuckled, a sound that hummed from deep in that fit chest. “Can’t take all the credit. Mike takes care of the yard occasionally, but we leave most of it to the gardener.”

Of course, they would have a gardener. Their house was large and immaculate, and in addition to Mike’s well-maintained truck, it was hard to miss the Mercedes currently parked in the driveway. Clearly Mike and Erwin had well-paying jobs. “A plant nanny.” You deadpanned, earning another chuckle from Erwin who’s smile turned fond.

“We’d love to have you over for dinner. We’d like to properly welcome you to the neighborhood.”

You were taken aback for a moment, anxiety flooding your stomach on instinct. The thoughts were instantaneous. ‘What if I make a fool of myself?’, ‘What if I spill a drink?’, ‘What if I eat too much in front of them?’, ‘What if I say something wrong?’, ‘What if—’

A deep breath through your nose.

A subtle exhale from your mouth.

The thoughts were quieted.

Another deep breath through your nose.

Another subtle exhale from your mouth.

Your heart rate significantly lowered.

“I’d like that very much.” You answered before your thoughts could creep in again and dispel your nerve.

You weren’t going to let your anxiety keep you from experiences, especially making friends with your neighbors. You knew if you stopped to think on it deeply you would psych yourself out with overthinking the kind offer and ultimately decline. Best not to let your anxiety or self-consciousness rule your decisions. Therapy had taught you that.

Erwin looked pleased with your answer, his smile touching his blue eyes.

“Wonderful,” he purred, reaching into the pocket of his black slacks to hand you his phone, “Put your number in, if you wouldn’t mind,” he added the last bit to make it less of a command and more of a suggestion, “I’ll text you a date.” You smiled and tapped your name and number into the contacts of his phone, adding a flower emoji just as a playful wink to your conversation before handing the cellphone back to his waiting hand. “Sounds good.”

The male’s smile didn’t fade as he slipped the phone back in his pocket. “I’ll text you later.” He promised, making you return his smile. Though that should have triggered a bit more nervousness, anticipating a text, instead it just put little butterflies in your stomach. Yeah, he was gay—and taken, you reminded yourself again—but you could have attractive friends that were nice to look at. You were allowed to get excited over a little dinner date, no matter how platonic.

As Erwin moved in the direction of his Mercedes, he looked over his shoulder at you. “Don’t be too hard on your flowers,” he fished out his key fob, clicking the button to unlock his car, “It can be hard adapting to a new home.”

Smiling, you leaned down and picked up the hose, clicking the water back on and misting it gently over the pansies once again for good measure, hoping to perk up the wilting petals. “It helps to have someone to pamper you though.” You mumbled absentmindedly, earning a little glance from Erwin before the blond got into his car and sped off down the road.

-

You thought you had made yourself perfectly clear to yourself that the backyard was not a priority. But after unpacking a few more boxes of miscellaneous objects late into the afternoon, it just seemed to call to you.

You stood at your sink in your kitchen, looking out into the yard from the window as you nibbled on a bite of your lazily made sandwich. Your small kitchen table had already been set up so it’s not like you had to stand to eat any of your meals, but it seemed even when eating you had to pace. You blamed the new environment. It would take time to get comfortable, just like Erwin had said about your flowers. Even though you were excited and loved your new home, it was taking your time to adjust.

Your eyes narrowed as you looked over the yard, as though you were trying to imagine it looking differently than it currently did. You had a rather vivid imagination, you read quite a bit after all, but when it came to mental landscaping you were coming up short. The only reason you were able to spruce up your front yard without much deep consideration was because there was a plot of dirt already prime for flowers. It just lacked anything in it. Picking some things to fill the void hadn’t required a great deal of mental fortitude. The backyard was different.

It wasn’t exactly a mess, but it wasn’t a marvel either. It was a blank canvas of untapped potential—and weeds. A slightly overgrown lawn, lack of any interesting plant life, and boarder of dirt that was begging for flowers much as the front yard had. But you weren’t ready for the amount of plant life the backyard could hold. Being a new plant mother, you needed time to hone your skills. The front yard was plenty for now.

Even so, you couldn’t keep yourself from glaring at the backyard. Maybe it was because it glared back at you from every window. You wanted to look outside and see something pleasing to the eye. Why did hyper fixation always go hand-in-hand with anxiety? You tapped your foot against the floor and chewed your food, willing the nervous energy to dispel.

Fuck it.

You could pluck the weeds.

That might help until you could really bring yourself to get into the project that it would someday be. Besides, you should really keep up on the yard even before fixing it so that it wasn’t more of a hassle in the long run. Weeding it would be a good start, and it might make looking through your windows a bit less bothersome.

You placed your crumb covered plate into the sink and made your way through the sliding glass door to the backyard, taking a little detour to drag the green’s can from the side yard so you would have somewhere to put the weeds after you ripped their stubborn carcasses from the ground.

The poor bastards had no idea what was coming.

Taking a look around you, you once again crinkled your nose in contemplation. At least the lawn was mostly green. It didn’t look as though the previous owner had used the yard for storage or trash. It really didn’t look like the previous owner had used it for much of anything. They clearly couldn’t have been bothered to do much more than turn on the sprinklers, just like the front yard. You narrowed your eyes and scanned the environment, once again trying to channel your creative side. All you could think about were plants for the most part. You weren’t even all that plant crazy until recently. It was just the first thing that came to mind when you thought of the outdoors. You huffed through your nose. Maybe a deck at some point? That would cost money. You sure as hell were not going to build one yourself. IKEA furniture was the extent of your carpentry skills. At least the fence looked pretty good, spare for a hole like crack in one of the planks on the left side of the wall. That should be easy enough to fix. Surely it wouldn’t require the establishment of a whole new fence so at least you’d save some money there.

You gave up your attempt at visualization to pull your gardening gloves onto your hands. You’d take to some online forums for backyard ideas when the time was right. You had to remind yourself that right now you were just focusing on battling the weeds.

You tried to go at it methodically, you really did. You were going to start at one end of the yard and make your way to the other. But each time you bent down to pluck one weed you’d see a huge one from the corner of your eye at the other end of the yard that would distract you. You’d pluck that one, then there would be another at the side of the yard you’d just came from so you’d have to go back again. Pretty soon you were just hopping from whatever weed assaulted your eyes to the next, which mainly consisted of the big ones that had no right existing in the first place.

You were going to kick yourself later when you had to revert back to your original method of going from one end of the yard to the other when it came time to sift through the smaller weeds—but for now the satisfaction that came from yanking the big suckers out of the earth gave you too much momentary euphoria to care. That would be a problem for your future self.

For now, your newest target was spotted. A huge weed growing along the fence line. The number of squats you were inadvertently doing in your quest to de-weed the yard was going to hurt you tomorrow. It was kind of hurting you now. Turning your legs to Jell-O. But you were determined to vanquish every form of unsavory vegetation before sunset. You’d use tomorrow as a day of rest if it came to that.

It was probably going to come to that. Gardening was proving to be a workout in itself.

Pulling yourself to standing, you walked over to the weed by the fence and crouched down, gripping it and giving a firm tug around the stock. But the titan weed hardly budged. You arched a brow and wrapped your other hand around it, tugging once more. You swore the weed pulled back as you rocked on your heels. Frustrated, you sat yourself on your knees and leaned back, trying to use your body weight to get the massive bulb from the earth with a grunt.

At least, you thought you grunted.

Wait that wasn’t you.

You paused; your hands still wrapped around the weed as you stayed frozen in mid tug.

There was another grunt in a masculine tone— which most certainly did not come from you.

“Goddamn it…” The voice was deep, dripping with a sort of smooth roughness that was a complete contradiction that only made sense from hearing it firsthand. It was the sort of tone that held an edge in any words that came from it. In spite of it coming from the direction of your neighbor’s yard, it was not a voice you’d heard before. You were sure you would have remembered it.

“Erwin—fuck!” There it was again.

“Shh…” That second voice you thought you recognized. Finally, your head darted up from your place on your knees out of instinct. You were eye level with the rough hole in the plank you’d noticed earlier that exposed your neighbor’s yard.

And much more than that.

From your viewpoint you could see the edge of a pool, lush plants, a deck further back—but the lovely yard wasn’t what pulled your attention. What pulled your attention was two people on a lounge chair, one propped up by the lifted back, the other straddling across strong hips.

The person sitting back on the lounge was obviously Erwin, naked as the day he was born in the late afternoon sun. Your assumption had been right about his torso. It was in fact sculpted by the hands of god, all firm muscle and definition. You could vaguely make out light traces of hair on it from your distance, what little there was must have been as blond as he was.

However, this isn’t what struck you the most about what you were seeing. Though it was a sight to behold. What struck you the most was that the person in his lap—

Was not Mike.

Your lips parted in a silent gasp, lashes fluttering as if you could wash the other figure away and replace it with Mike. But the person on Erwin’s lap couldn’t be more different and there was no way in hell to confuse the two even with the most vivid of imaginations.  

He was smaller, clearly shorter, with a body that was muscular on its own but far more lithe than the bulkier form of Mike. It was hard to see his face at the angle you were given. The lounge was not exactly parallel to the break in the fence, giving an angle that displayed a view of the sinewy back of the stranger, as well as their stark black hair, but no hint to their face in the slightest. But you could see Erwin’s, twisted in pleasure, and even at a distance it was obvious what was taking place.

Swallowing thickly, your eyes drifted down the stranger’s back to a pert round ass currently stuffed with Erwin—which from what little you could see not buried inside, was not an easy adjustment.

“Fuck me harder.” Came that deep voice once again, a commanding growl for more as his hips rolled down on the intruding length.

Erwin grunted, his fingers digging into the man’s waist in a white-knuckle grip as he bucked himself up, thrusting himself into the ravenette. “Beg for it then.” He bit back in a grunt, it seemed to be taking a great deal of effort to keep from fulfilling the request, if his clenching palms and strained voice were anything to go by.

The man on top of Erwin scoffed, lifting his body and sitting himself right back down on his lap, forcing the cock deep inside him before rocking his hips forward and back, pulling a moan from Erwin. “When have I ever begged?” His tone was deceptively even for what he was doing— as if taking that massive length was the easiest thing in the world. Perhaps something he did regularly.

You weren’t so sure you would be able to keep an even tone had you been in the raven’s place even if it had been the hundredth time.

A smirk played on the blonde’s lips, “First time for everything.” You thought you heard, but the voice was quiet, perhaps suddenly conscious that they were outside.

Pale fingers slid up the plains of Erwin’s chest to coil around his neck. “I’ll take it myself.” The black-haired male growled, steadying himself on his knees before he started to bounce on the cock inside him. He pulled himself up, nearly taking the shaft out of his hole before slamming himself back down, muted moans pulling from him each time he forced himself down on the lap with a lewd slapping of skin.

It was at that moment that the weed in your hand snapped, sending you backwards with a yelp. You’d lost your balance, your butt making contact with the soles of your shoes as you plopped down completely on your knees from your previously raised position on them. Ditching the weed, you crawled away from the hole in a panic and covered your mouth with your hand as though you could turn back time and capture the yelp that was already in the air.

It wasn’t until you were a good seven feet from the fence that you allowed yourself to listen for any sound. There was silence for a long while other than your rapidly thumping heart under your palm while you attempted to keep it in your chest. It was only when you heard the faint and distant sound of skin on skin, a sound you’d only hear if you’d known to listen for it, that you allowed yourself to breath. You pulled your mouth shut, not realizing how long it’d been hanging open. You’d probably swallowed a bug or two in your stupor. You couldn’t be sure.

Feeling your pulse throb between your legs, you whined softly, squeezing your thighs together and biting your bottom lip as guilt washed over you. The guilt was rather misdirected, at least it should have been. But you’d felt it for a variety of reasons. The hallow yet heavy sensation sat deep in your chest. You’d peeped on your neighbor, accident or not, a total invasion of privacy. What made it worse was the wetness steadily forming at your core. You’d peeped like a horny teenager and gotten turned on by it.

If the guild from that wasn’t enough—you’d gotten turned on, meanwhile Mike was being cheated on.

That last part stung the most.

Erwin was cheating on Mike.

-

You paced back and forth in your living room, the tip of your thumb in your lips so you could bite at your nail—a habit you’d thought you’d long since kicked.

How on how on earth were you going to tell Mike that he was being cheated on? Should you tell him at all? Was it really your place?

These where the questions stirring in your mind as you paced. If you continued to traverse one end of your living room to the other, you would likely ware a rut in your flooring.

Plucking your thumb from your mouth, you stilled your feet and pulled your phone from the pocket of your leggings, tapping away on the technological rectangle to bring up Sasha’s number. It was times like this where you needed to get out of your head. So, in these moments you often talked out your thoughts with Sasha. It was the only way to get out of the infinite circle your pondering often became.

‘If you were being cheated on, would you want someone to tell you?’

It wasn’t ten seconds after you sent the text than those little ellipsis came on the screen to indicate your friend was already typing out a reply.

 ‘What do you know?’

You brought up the keyboard of your phone to explain, but another message quickly followed.

‘Is Connie cheating on me?’

‘I’m gonna serve him in the burgers.’

‘I’m Sweeney Todd-ing this bitch.’

You had to type faster to cut her off. Maybe starting the message like that hadn’t been your wisest move.

‘No!’

‘No!’

You sent the message twice when you saw the ellipsis raise on your screen again, being sure she saw your reply so you could clearly explain.

‘Not you or Connie! I’m talking about my neighbors.’

‘Oh’.

She wrote back, a momentary pause before adding,

‘Don’t tell Connie about me making him into burgers.’

This pulled a smile from you and curbed your anxiety, allowing your heart to still. Leave it to Sasha to calm your nerves with her naturally comedic personality.

‘Anyway, what happened?’

Well that calm was short lived. You remained standing in case you had to get the nervous energy out by pacing again.

‘I met the neighbors. The ones Della told us about when we were moving me in, remember?’

It only took a second for Sasha to text back—she was fast with her fingers even though she had had the same shitty phone for close to 3 years. Only shitty because of the cracked screen that she had more than enough money to fix, but always complained if she got a new one, she would just drop it anyway. You were fairly sure the phone also had a little dent in it, she said it added character.

‘Yeah.’

‘They hot?’

‘Ridiculously.’

‘Niiice.’

You typed hastily to try and stay on topic.

‘Their names are Mike and Erwin.’

‘And they’re hot.’

You snorted but continued typing, trying not to let your thoughts linger on how attractive both the men were. That wasn’t was the discussion was about. You cut to the chase.

‘I accidentally saw Erwin having sex with someone that was NOT Mike.’

The reply actually took a full minute, though it wasn’t long, an indicator that Sasha had probably typed a few different replies but deleted them until settling on what it was she did send.

‘How did you ACCIDENTALLY see that?’

You could hear the accusatory tone through the little blue bubble that held her words.

‘I was in the backyard and I heard a sound and I ACCIDENTALLY looked through a hole in the fence.’

Reading that back—it really did sound like you were some kind of voyeur.  

‘It really was an accident. I was weeding.’

These excuses were completely pitiful, and you were the one writing them.

‘So did you accidentally get a good look at who he was screwing?’

‘I only saw his back.’

It was only half a lie. You saw his strong back, his black hair, and an amazing ass.

‘Was he hot?’

Maybe texting Sasha wasn’t as productive as you originally thought.

‘It was a very nice back.’

An understatement if there ever was one. You hastily added to the message.

‘But that’s not the point. It wasn’t Mike. Now I don’t know if I should tell Mike or if I should just mind my business.’

On the one hand, you wanted to have a good relationship with your neighbors, and who they were and were not sleeping with was not something you should be concerning yourself with. Injecting yourself into their love life was something you didn’t feel you had the right to do, especially because you hardly knew the two of them.

On the other hand, you thought about how much it hurt to be cheated on. You imagined Mike, blissfully unaware that the love of his life was sleeping with someone else in their own home and it made your heart sink into the pit of your stomach. You ached for him

‘Are you 100% sure that you saw what you think you saw?’

Taking a moment to recall the memory, a blush creeped up your neck and right up to your face. You shook you head to will the images away, once again ashamed of the heat it stirred between your legs.

‘Yeah. It was clear.’

There was no way to mistake what you saw. They weren’t nude sunbathing, they weren’t naked cuddling, and there was no way the other guy just fell on Erwin’s dick.

This time it took Sasha more than two minutes to answer. She must have been thinking. Maybe even asking Connie what he thought. You hopped not. Connie and Sasha may not have known your neighbors, but you also didn’t want to gossip about them. You honestly just needed your friend’s advice on a difficult situation. One that you’d put your own damn self in. 

‘That’s hard. I mean you don’t really know them well enough to say anything, ya know?’

That was something you wrestled with. It would be different if this were a friend who you were close with. It wouldn’t even be a debate if it were someone you knew well, like Sasha. You would tell them in a heartbeat because not telling them would likely have greater consequences. But when it came to Mike and Erwin, you didn’t know them. Again, you reminded yourself that it wasn’t your place.

But if you did form a friendship with them, would you be more obligated to tell Mike? You imagined having a friendship with the men and all the while harboring this dark secret.

There you went again, 100 miles ahead of present.

You chewed your thumb nail again, not noticing that you had once again began to pace.

You must have been taking too long to respond, because another text from Sasha lit up your phone.

‘Who do you think he was banging?’

‘Dunno. They do have a gardener.’

Your reply was meant to be sarcastic. How were you supposed to know? You didn’t know a thing about the guys next door other than they were both attractive and that one was a cheater.

Actually, you were relatively certain that Erwin wasn’t banging the gardener. That man on top of Erwin was too pale to see the sun on a regular basis.

A vibration in your hand made you lift your phone again, expecting another text from Sasha, only to see a message from an unknown number. Your brows knitted together as your finger pressed against the notification, pulling up the text.

‘Hello, [y/n]. It’s Erwin. If you’re available, we’d like to have you over for dinner tomorrow night.’

These guys didn’t waste any time. You’d be thankful about not having to cook if you weren’t harboring a secret about your inviter. You stared at the message, kicking yourself for opening it because Erwin would likely have an alert on his end that said the text had been read. He’d be expecting a reply.

It wasn’t as though you could lie and tell him you wouldn’t be home. That avoidance strategy wouldn’t work with someone who could just peek outside and see if your car were in the driveway. Hiding your car in the garage wouldn’t work when it was still a mess of packed and unpacked boxes you had yet to either toss or organize. Honestly, you weren’t about to be up all night clearing it just to avoid your neighbors. You answered before you had more time to mull it over.

‘That sounds great, I look forward to seeing you.’

Was that too formal? You added the number as a new contact before you could hyper analyze your own words. It was tempting to place the number under the name ‘adulterer’, but you thought better of it. You were just being petty about a matter that you shouldn’t be so invested in. You were going to have dinner with your neighbors and completely forget about what you saw—for your own sanity. You weren’t about to let self-imposed guilt eat you up inside. Though this wouldn’t be the first time.

“Not my circus, not my monkeys.” You muttered to yourself, a little mantra you used to say when reminding yourself that something, often some sort of drama, wasn’t your business to involve yourself in or to be dragged into.

Instead, you opted for continuing your conversation with Sasha, steering it toward any other subject possible. By the grace of god, she started asking you about your move and how you were enjoying your new house. Your friend always knew how to distract you. Maybe she felt your nerves through the phone.

She’d known you early in your journey through therapy and knew when you needed to talk and when you needed to be distracted. Sometimes she knew it before you did.

Counting and colors could only go so far. Sometimes a friend was the best grounding tool.

To bad you couldn’t bring her to dinner tomorrow. 

You’d be on your own for that.