#seriously though how do you hear this and remain unchanged:

[tathrin]

Anyone else have a favorite obscure or ridiculous word that they love so much they have to put it in everything they write as soon as they have even the faintest excuse to do so?

Mine is incarnadine.

[bitterchocoo]

Love Me, Love Me, Love Me!

Part One (You're here) | Part two

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Welt Yang | M. Reader

----------

"Don’t get angry. Don’t abandon me. Don’t go anywhere."

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

You were always so cold...

That monotone voice of yours.. That blank expression... That indifference...

You're cold, unapproachable, intimidating, and indifferent to all. A selfish man that only cares for himself. And yet...

How did he manage to fall in love with you? What is this feeling? What did you do? How come he had fallen for such a selfish and manipulative man? The Welt Yang? Falling for the likes of him? Impossible! Even a Honkai won't believe it!

No one could ever believes it!

The ever so righteous Welt Yang. In love with a bastart like that? Did he drugged him? Put some sort of spell? Manipulated him? It's ridiculous! Utterly ridiculous! The two are like water and oil for crying out loud! And yet...

It happened..

The man continuous to act cold and indifferent as their relationship goes on, and for some reason Welt eats it all up. The two acted more like strangers rather than a couple. But Welt takes all that he could get and in the end... He grew addicted to it..

.

.

"What...?"

Welt's face twisted in confusion upon hearing your words. You wanted to break up? Even though he knew this was toxic, he couldn't break away. He was in love with the way you hated him. He never expected anyone to manipulate him so well.

His lips curled into a tired smile as he looked at face of the man himself. The one who has his heart, the one who holds it in the palm of his hand.. and the could freely do anything with it...

He held his hand out to [Name] as if he wanted to test something. To know something. A vow? A promise? A metaphor? What is it exactly?

"What the hell do you think you're doing, Welt?" [Name] ask with his usual monotone voice, his expression remains neutral as he watches him. He stood there, a good distance away from Welt as his eyes scan the other in front of him. Welt chuckled softly at the look on [Name]'s face.

"Oh, don't deny it. You know exactly what I mean." Welt's smile grew wider at the sight of [Name]'s unchanging demeanor. "You're a manipulative person. Even if you don't admit it, you know that you've been playing me like a toy all this time." He chuckled darkly, seemingly amused by the other's reaction.

For once he felt tired.. For once he could only smile in pity at himself... He pity himself and the fact that he oh so willingly turn a blind eye at all of this... despite knowing how toxic it truly is.. He knew and yet he just eats it all up... He knew and yet he seems to be addicted to it...

Why..? Is it because he love the other too much? Had he fallen to a pit of no return? A pit in where he endlessly falls and expecting the other to catch him at the end?

It's unclear...

[Name] slowly step forward and approach Welt, his expression remains neutral as he accepts Welt's hand, holding it. "For once.. You're right.. I don't know how to love and I don't even know if I even have the capacity of loving either..."

"But the least I can do is take your hand and try, no?"

Is he being serious? Or is this one of his manipulation tactics? It's unclear... It's always unclear when it comes to that man... always so indifferent.. always so unpredictable...

Welt blinked in surprise, unsure of how to respond. [Name] was actually accepting his hand? "You... you will?" His voice was soft and full of emotion. His eyes widened and his hand tightened its hold on [Name]'s then as if snapping back to reality. Welt let go of the other's hand and took the slightest step back, seemingly in disbelief.

This is [Name] he's talking about...

...Was he being pranked, or was [Name] telling the truth?

"Seriously?" His tone was soft as he looked up at [Name]. His eyes widened, seemingly wanting to hear his words again. "[Name]?" He spoke again, his voice full of emotion. "Do you love me?"

Ah.. Those words felt.. Foreign to the other... It felt so out of reach from [Name] and yet.. He sighs before taking a step backwards and opening his arms as if he's expecting a hug.

"Welt.. I love you.. So please.. Come back to me..." Is he.. Being serious? He's serious right? This isn't one of his manipulation tactics, right? Despite his monotone voice.. It's real, right!?

Welt's eyes widened at the sight of [Name]'s open arms. Did he really love him, or was he just being taken advantaged of again?... But those words, they sounded so real. So genuine.

"Yes. Of course."

Welt took a step forward, his arms wrapping tightly around [Name] before pressing himself tightly against him. He didn't want to let go, not even for a single moment. As long as he was in his beloved's arms, he was willing to forgive everything.

.

.

The words "I love you" seems to be stuck in his throat, and now matter what [Name] can't seem to let them out, it's not that he can't say it its just.... well... it's more like... it came out as hollow.. empty.. avoid of anything.. avoid of emotions.. a void of warmth and affection that the words tied themselves to..

As much as Welt wanted to believe those words... he could still hear how hollow and empty they are.. Welt hope for that.. one day.. [Name] is able to say it with the utmost sincerity... to be able to say them without it being hollow.. without it being a lie..

Unknowingly to him, that day eventually arrives... it's just that.. it's the same day that the Honkai strikes again..

[Name] found himself putting pressure on a wound on his abdomen he cursed out the very thing that puts him in this.. state. He could only put pressure on his wound as he sat at the ground, surrounded by ruble and debris. He can't leave unless he wants to attract the attention of the Honkai to his location or make his injuries worst.

Then as if the Gods hates him.. a Honkai starts sniffing out people in the area he's in, he knew that everyone had probably evacuated the area and it's just him so he can't use them as sacrificial lambs. He's stuck. He can't fight in his current state. He can't fight with his injuries. He's out of options. The only option is to accept his fate.

With a heavy heart he took out his phone and call a specific number, one that he's oh so familiar with, one that he took the time to memorized. As the phone rings... to his surprise.. it lead to voicemail. [Name] weakly laughs at the sound of the voicemail. He deserved that. He truly deserved that. A bastard like him... he deserved nothing less than being left like this..

As it beeps, [Name] starts to convey his message.

"I've been irresponsible from the start... I'm not pure, I'm dishonest and dirty.. I don't know what it means to love and to be loved.. which probably led as to why my words sounded so hollow and avoid of emotions..." [Name] paused, letting out a bitter chuckle before continuing.

"Welt... Your name was Joachim Nokianvirtanen, right? I remember you used to rambled on about some stuff... I think you said that once... Or was I wrong? Sorry... I was never good with names... Even though I may not look like it... But I was so happy when you gave me that gift... I've still got it displayed in my room." [Name] took a sharp inhale as he tries to put as much as pressure possible to his body that's slowly turning weaker by the second.

"I've let my guard down.." He muttered under his breath.

"I'm sorry..." He apologies once more, his voice growing quieter and quieter.. weaker and weaker...

"Welt, your animations are wonderful... You know, I was thinking that maybe you'll actually become a great animator one day... and Joyce.. I wonder what kind of adult he'll grow into.. hopefully not like me, yeah? call me selfish, but I want to be there to see it... not that I was the best partner or anything... But I'm glad that I've met you."

"And also... I have to tell you this.."

"Welt Yang, I love you."

Those words... they don't sound as hollow as before... it don't sound as emotionless as before.. it sounded real.. it sounded genuine.. it sounded like.. [Name] truly meant it..

"I'm sorry.... it took me so long..."

The last thing that was heard was the screech of a Honkai before it cuts off.

.

.

"No.... it didn't took you that long.."

Is what he would say if he had picked up the phone.

The day he opens his voicemail is the very same day he cried his heart out. Those words that his beloved had uttered with his last breath... he can't describe it... but every time he hears it... just made him cry even more.

Now that he's... in another world... now that he's a Nameless..

He could only sigh as he looks at the gift with a somber expression. An item he had bring with him. An item that he cherish so much after that day.

A ball-jointed doll of Joyce.

Welt wanted [Name] to remember or at least acknowledge the child he had neglected because of his work. He wanted [Name] to at least utter those sweet words or spend some time with the child Welt had cared for like his own. Welt had discovered that [Name] had a hobby of collecting thing a few years ago, ball-jointed dolls to be exact. So what's a better way to combine what he wanted him to do with the man's hobby as a gift?

And true to the voicemail... [Name] had kept it and displayed it on his shelf of his room... the doll is in its most prime state... completely clean and fully functional.. the limbs work perfectly, nothing is messed up.. [Name] had took care of the doll as if it's Joyce himself.

.

.

Seeing familiar faces in this universe convinced him to stay. But seeing his, unleashed a floodgate of emotions within him.

The moment he saw the other universe "him" in front of him. Perhaps this could be the happy ending he always wanted?

"Hello, please try to quickly summarize your intents and goals for this meeting." The man spoke up in an all to familiar tone. He then looks up at the paper he's holding and eyed the four people in front of him. What was their names again? March 7th, Dan Heng, Stelle, and Welt Yang? He was never good with names.

"Ah right... you're Her Excellency's honor guests, where are my manners." He says sarcastically.

"Name's [Name] [L. Name], now... what business do you have with me? I'm a busy man so make it quick."

[lorimnnn]

Hi! I really liked your Ghostface crybaby! Post! I was wandering if your requests are open if you’d write a Ghostface with a unrequited survivor/reader/yn where Ghostface has the hots but the survivor/yn just ain’t feeling it. If requests aren’t open plz ignore! But seriously love your work! Totally made my day!

ahhhh i usually hate angsty things like this so I actually considering not doing it.... but the potential was too good to resist. ty for your kind words, i seriously love writing up requests <3

p.s. i accidentally deleted it and got so unmotivated :((((( here it is though

the second he sees you he's convinced the entity has sent him a gift. you're literally his type head to toe and while he's insanely attracted to you, he's twice as excited to kill you

you become his obsession.

over. and over again.

your teammates realise that he will always go after you first if he can and they abuse this fact to an inch of it's life. you understand, of course.

you hate pain. the innocent type, the sweet type. compassionate to a fault even if it's plunged you into pain again and again.

Ghostface wants to break you

there is a perverse thrill in seeing you helpless in the dirt, sobbing, begging him to stop. he has to have mori-d you one thousand times across all the trials you've had together, now. but it never hurts any less and you never get used to it.

you don't seem to understand that this is a game, either. it's like real life.

"God, you're hot." His breath shutters in his throat as he takes you in, bloody and shivering on the ground. The Entity had been feeling generous recently and because of his good behaviour, had put you in a skimpy little dress.

You whimper when he nears.

"No, no no," you say, trying to back away from him. "Please."

"You know it turns me on when you beg, babe."

You sob harder when he crouches, weaving one hand into the back of your hair to haul you upright and against him. As always, he's deceivingly gentle. If not for his wondering hands you'd think he felt bad for you--- but that was never the case.

"Please stop," you say again.

"Now why would I do that?" He combs his gloved hand through your hair. The metallic scent of your blood has him dizzy and plunged into a haze that is purely you. You, you, you. Sometimes he swears he could care less about hurting you. He just wants to see you. Your face, contorting with pain, with a smile, with---

So maybe he liked you a little.

"I know I'm your favourite," he says confidently, and then rearranges you to sit in his lap. You sniffle. He groans.

You're so cute.

And you can't help it, even if you're afraid of him--- by nature you've always been obedient and timid and good. So good. It had costed you everything by the end.

It makes him feel so powerful.

Makes you feel so small.

"I'll give you the hatch if you play nice today," he lies. He rubs your thigh and nuzzles your hair, the plastic probing into your bruised flesh. "Hm? What about it?"

You hate him.

You hate him so much.

And before you know it, it's falling out of your mouth, bitter and harsh and sapping almost all of your remaining energy.

"I hate you. Fuck you."

It's so unexpected that he flinches.

He knows you're not best friends or anything, but he never prepared himself to hear it. and it was different

it actually hurt

and you said in the same way the he claimed to like you--- eternally, unchanging, unaltered

was it the continuous mori-ing?

you had to understand that everything in-trial was purely business, even if he did get a good kick out of it. after a while he'd gotten used to how naive you were and assumed he could twist it to fit his ways

he underestimated you

and he hates himself for feeling like he doesn't know you when you say this, because he's obsessed in every sense of the word. he watches you at the campfire, doting on your teammates. so kind. bright, smiley. then you would cry yourself to sleep and he would only feel the littlest bit bad, but not enough to count

but he should have guessed it

he shouldn't feel hurt by it, either--- you're his victim first and foremost. his beautiful, kind, compassionate victim who he wanted to lock away and protect as much as he wanted to hurt.

he'd never seen you so set in your ways before. so strong. it was a complete contrast to your usual soft-spoken shyness.

He blinked, incredulous. "Aw, sweetheart. I'm sure it isn't personal."

"I hope you die in a ditch."

"You killing me would be hot."

You don't laugh.

Now he's starting to panic a little, because usually he can ignore it. You never laugh. But he can't deny it now.

You hate him.

More than anything in this plane of existence. And that's a problem. Because after this trial, it quickly occurs to him that he doesn't only like you, but likes you a lot. More than he should be allowed. Against his own will he finds his work ethic challenged and his sadistic pleasure dwindling into his guilt, his sole motivation to stay sane in this shitty reality. Now he doesn't know what to make of it.

What was he supposed to do?

He tries everything after that. He genuinely starts trying to give you the hatch and now you're slamming pallets over his head with twice as much of force.

He starts getting artsy with his pictures of you. You're actually alive in these ones. You throw every single one into the fire.

Fuck. He even consults Bubba for help and picks out a bunch of flowers to give to you alongside a heartfelt apology, but you laugh in his face.

it hurts

it hurts even more when you leave and cuddle up to some of the survivors--- the people who left you behind time and time again. the fact that you'd rather them over him spoke volumes and he would find himself incurably jealous.

he couldn't even hurt them to get over it because it would only make you hate him more

for the first time in his life, Jed Olsen regretted killing. It had led him to you and also driven the two of you apart with twice as much force

he hates it

he hates what you've done to him and he hates that he's starting to love you and he hates, most of all---

the fact you will never love him back

[kurishiri]

13 . . . alfons main story

꒰ ִ ֺ ⊹ @ notice ⊹ ֺ ִ ꒱ this translation may not be 100% accurate or contain creative liberties due to characterization or narrative flow purposes. if you enjoy, please consider reblogging, but don’t repost these or claim these as your own!

— cw: discussions on mortality, written depiction of blood, self-deprecation, angst.

Kate: Alfons.

Alfons: Yes, what is it?

Kate: ...Show me your body.

Alfons: ...In such a place? My, how naughty you are.

In an exaggerated manner, Alfons shrugged his shoulders in a teasing gesture.

Kate: Say what you will, but you will be showing me your back.

When I tried to maneuver behind him, though, he pressed his back to the wall.

Kate: Gosh, just why are you doing this!?

Alfons: I do, as a matter of fact, have a bit of an aversion to showing my back to others.

(He doesn’t want to because of a bit of an aversion!?)

(Besides, what absolute bollocks... I’m sure Alfons——)

Kate: You covered for me and got shot, didn’t you...

Alfons: Why, hardly. As far as I’m concerned I would never make such blunders.

[1] Don’t dodge the question. (+4 / +4)

[2] I don’t believe you.

[3] Really?

Kate: Are you seriously still dodging my question...!?

Alfons: Well am I now? I can’t seem to recall.

The way he shrugged his shoulders held a bit of a dramatic flair.

And after he had a giggling fit, he suddenly fell silent, as though at a sudden loss for words.

Alfons: .........

His gaze on me was so direct, it held nothing back as it pierced through me, and even though he didn’t utter a word, I almost faltered from it.

Alfons: ...You have always been like this, haven’t you.

A: Even if you don’t check on me, you wouldn’t be riddled at all by fear and anxiety... and yet here you are, still trying your best to seek the ‘truth’ to a foolish extent.

His gaze seemed to scrutinize me, as though he were looking at me through the glass of a mirror——

And without thinking, I grabbed his collar and pulled it toward me.

Kate: If it’s foolish, then so be it. So just show me...

With that, I lifted the rim of his coat.

Kate: ...!

There were blots of crimson on his white shirt.

(I knew it, he really did cover for me——)

Alfons: ...See now, you’ve gotten hurt yet again.

(And even in a time like this...)

I hardly took to that ridiculing tone, to be sure, but I could also hear consideration laced in his voice, causing my chest to constrict.

Kate: Aren’t you the one who got hurt, though...?

When I spoke back, this time I took off his shirt.

And there on the flank of his back was a crimson wound.

Even the deepest part of his wound seemed superficial, so there wasn’t a lot of blood.

(Oh, thank goodness it’s not a severe wound... but still.)

Kate: I’m really sorry, I was careless then.

Alfons: Now, now, nothing you did warrants such earnesty.

A: It was hardly your fault at all, so your apology is only wasted on me.

Alfons was still kicking as usual, his complexion remaining unchanged to the point him getting grazed by a bullet at all wouldn’t have even crossed my mind.

Kate: What do you mean, my apology is ‘only wasted’...

(Yes, he is fine now, because the bullet just happened to pass by him...)

(But, if the trajectory had been even slightly different...)

Kate: You do know you could have died then and there though!?

Alfons: People are meant to die, without exception.

Kate: …But, wouldn’t you find it unpleasant to die in a place like this, having covered for me?

Alfons: Never did I say that.

Kate: What...?

And then, what I heard thereafter made me question my own ears——

Alfons: No matter at what time, in what place, and for what purpose I die, is this not simply an ending you could find anywhere else?

I could only stare at him, rendered speechless.

The way he spoke made it seem as though he spectated even his own life as something of a play from the side.

Kate: How could you treat something like this... like it’s so trivial...

K: Don’t... don’t you have something you want to do, or any regrets and whatnot...?

Alfons: ...Hehe.

A: Indeed, I would imagine someone of your nature to be positively riddled with such things, no?

Kate: ...

At that moment, I recalled something Roger had said.

—— Flashback ——

Roger: Hey, lil lady, what if I said that guy’s got no weakness up his sleeve? What would you do then?

R: If he doesn’t have anything he can call precious, then it won’t matter how much insults, disdain, anger, or hatred you hit him with. None of it could hurt him.

R: If he was the type of guy who thought stuff like ‘I couldn’t care less about the things before me’ and had no will to live in reality, what would you do?

—— End flashback ——

When I had first heard those words, their meaning had passed over my head.

But now, I felt like I could finally grasp what he was getting at.

(Alfons treats his own body like a tool.)

(After all, he sleeps with others with no strings attached, and he uses his ability on others as well...)

By doing so, he could masquerade that he was enjoying himself, and while he cast convenient illusions for others, he would open his heart to none nor would he linger about in a single place...

It felt as though he might end up vanishing into thin air.

Kate: If you go off and die so suddenly... everyone in Crown will be saddened.

Alfons: Ahha! Goodness, surely you jest.

Seeing him laugh my words off only made me worried.

Kate: And what of Lord Elbert? Aren’t you two something along the lines of childhood friends who go way back?

Alfons: Yes, I suppose. Although I do feel I meddle a tad too much in his affairs as well.

A: Well, all that said, there isn’t much to worry about with him, dare I say. No matter how much sadness he ends up facing, he wouldn’t ever give up living.

A: For you see, his Curse is that of ‘greed’ and——

Kate: Okay, and what about me...!?

K: Because... I would also be sad if you went and died...

The words seemed to well up within me, overflowing.

Alfons: ...I would imagine. You’re such a kind soul like that, after all.

A: But even so, once the month passes and you return to your normal everyday life,

A: I reckon the most you will remember is that there was some wicked man in there in passing...

A: And eventually, you will come to forget it all.

The more he spoke, the more Roger’s words seemed to hold a deeper meaning...

That being to Alfons——his own life was so trivial, he wouldn’t bat an eye no matter when it was taken from him.

Not only that, he would get derisive, insisting that there could never be a soul in this world that would grieve if he did die.

And all of that saddened me to no end...

Kate: ...But... you... to me, you are already a part of me...

K: So much so... it wouldn’t just fade like that...

Alfons: Well, I’ll be, your words do flatter.

Those ashy gray eyes reflected nothing and no one.

It was as though he was saying he had no will to live in the same reality I was in, simply looking on at me from the sidelines.

(This feeling swirling in my heart, one I could label neither as sadness nor anguish...)

When I thought about how such feelings were beyond him——

(Please, won’t those hollow eyes you bear)

(reflect me clearly?)

Alfons: ...!

On an instinct, I pressed my lips on his.

We’ve kissed countless times before, but my heart pounded in my chest now, as though this time was the first.

Kate: ...

And when I quietly withdrew...

Alfons: .........

In direct contrast with the way my heart was pounding to the point it might break, his eyes bore an icy look,

causing my chest to throb.

Alfons: ...This would be the first time you took initiative, no?

Kate: ...I...

K: I just... the fact that you wouldn’t even believe a word when I said I’d be sad if you died...

K: ...made me so sad, and...

My words stopped there.

(I don’t want to give up, and yet...)

It was more than clear from his eyes that the kiss just now did next to nothing to convey any words I wanted to say.

Alfons: ...What a foolish little robin you are, to feel so saddened over me.

A: And if I may remind you, I do see you as my plaything.

A: ...So tell me, when you think of your favorite toy in your childhood, do you know where it is now?

A: Or even before that, do you remember what said toy even was now?

Kate: ...

Something in my heart seemed to be smashed to pieces, much like a mirror.

Alfons: Even if I end up becoming a large part of your life, I cannot say the same of myself for you.

A: I only speak for your own good when I say to think of me as nothing more than a convenient playmate.

And the fragments of said shattered mirror pierced through me then.

But even so, I couldn’t bring myself to slap him across the cheek, scolding him about how he was the utter worst.

Kate: And... are you telling me you would throw away your life just like that for a mere ‘plaything’?

Alfons: Exactly.

A: My own life holds about as much worth as a little tin soldier anyhow.

(So this is——‘reality.’)

He was simply breathing, as though he were flickering in and out of existence.

To him, life was naught but something out of a play, perhaps a way to simply kill time.

(...Why...?)

(Just why do you live like this?)

Perhaps there was something in his past——or maybe his future that caused him to feel cornered into living this way.

I did want to ask this. And yet,

the pain in my chest made it hard to breathe, and I couldn’t so much as open my mouth.

Elbert: ...So they were here.

Roger: You two sure took your time getting out of there, so we came searching for you guys... and sure enough, here you are.

All of a sudden, a familiar voice caused me to look up.

There stood Roger and Lord Elbert, who apparently ran after us after hearing the ‘voices.’

Elbert: ...Al, are you hurt?

Alfons: Yes, minorly.

Kate: The bullet... it seems like it grazed the side of his back.

I was more or less able to steady my breathing, trying to give an answer as calmly as I could, but even still my voice ended up trembling.

Elbert: ...Are you crying by any chance, Kate?

Kate: N-no, I just... I’m just in a bit of shock...

Elbert: ...I see.

In truth, Lord Elbert had probably seen right through me.

But even so, he didn’t pry any deeper, instead supporting Alfons by the shoulder.

Roger: ...So? How did the mission go?

Alfons: Why of course, as swimmingly as it gets. And with that, let us return to the castle, yes?

——In the end, Alfons’ wounds were superficial, just as they had looked on the surface.

Roger had said it was so shallow there wasn’t even any need to suture it...

...but out of worry, I still found myself before Alfons’ room.

(...Even when I knock, there’s no response.)

(I did hear that he was resting in his room, but... I wonder if he is actually in there.)

The possibility that he was sleeping did cross my mind, but I felt a strong urge to see his face,

and while I knew I shouldn’t do so, I reached for the doorknob, and——

Kate: ...Sorry for intruding...

It was my first time in his room, and I noticed how, strangely, it felt as though there was not even a hint of anyone having lived in here at all.

One could think he would loathe to leave a single trace of himself behind, seeing as there was not a single possession he could call his own.

Even the tall mirror was covered, and if I were told he had just moved in here today, I wouldn’t have doubted it one bit.

(So this is... Alfons’ room...)

Only a calm fragrance filled his room.

It was a very clear one that reminded me of a flower soaked in the night dew: a far cry from the hodgepodge of fragrances he seemed to usually have on him.

And within it all, Alfons was lying on the bed, his eyes closed.

(Thank goodness. He’s still here...)

He seemed to be sleeping, and so as to not wake him, I stood by his side as quietly as I could.

Kate: ...I’m really sorry, coming in here without asking first.

K: It’s just... I kind of wanted to check to see if you were hurt, or had gotten sick...

K: And I felt you would end up disappearing into thin air before anyone could notice——

As I stared at his sleeping face, I felt an inexplicable urge to touch him, causing a pang in my heart.

(Ever since finding myself in Crown, I came to spend the most time with Alfons.)

He would do away my anxiety and fear that threatened to consume me in the most ridiculous ways,

and although he would never show what was in his heart, he would carve nothing but momentary pleasures in my body...

(And before I knew it, he had made his way into a place in my mind as well, to the point I could hear his voice in my head.)

He would laugh, saying life was naught but a tragedy and give anyone and everyone an illusion of pleasure,

all the while treating himself lightly, as though he were nothing more than a disposable tool——

He was dishonest and wicked to the core... just as he was an ever so kind, nightmare of a man.

(If he steals my heart as well, I will only end up hurt.)

(...I know that, and yet...)

His voice, the sensation of his fingers, the warmth of his skin, and his scent... I couldn’t ever forget them.

Not even after this month passed and I left the castle.

(I can’t let this end as a dream.)

After all, such feelings could never be an ‘illusion.’

Kate: ...Alfons.

K: It seems like... I have fallen for you.

When I murmured this, though——

Alfons: ...Well that is nothing short of a nuisance.

to be continued…

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[tj-dragonblade]

Perfume of the Timeless

I did not realize how much I missed the full orchestra on the last album until I got it back, holy shit.

That bass, god bless. Jukka sweetie you're doing amazing thank you for being here

Seriously I adore the strings but every little nuance of brass or winds just has me 🥹

The transitions from intros to verses to choruses to bridge bits to outros, this is a wild juddering soundscape sweeping me along like a branch in the rapids over the falls finally eddying into slow-spinning shallows and I am here for this ride, 100%

The drums, man. Troy's e-bow shining through here and there. And the keys, all throughout, but especially the piano melody with the harp and the additional keys trickling over all the bottom-end instruments as the song winds down, the vocals fluttering underneath. God

The build and the pacing of the intro take me right back to Imaginaerum, I love these notes of familiarity in the new

I love the way the orchestral melodies wind in and out along the vocal melody, matching up and dancing off in counterpoint again it's so fkng good

Floor, Floor, in beautiful powerful form as always. Never stop

Emppu, I know you're in there, i hear you I'm just. Really bad at focusing on guitar bits in this sonic tapestry, sorry. I expect you'll shine more prominently on other tracks

I see a lot of comments on the mix. Yeah, sure, Floor is sunk back into the music more than when they perform live. That's been my experience with their albums always? I am perhaps not audiophile enough to find it unlistenable, or truly relate to what the complaints are getting at. I appreciate the studio albums for how well I can hear all the instrumental elements, how everything balances vs the live performances, where they let the vocals shine and hush the backing elements. I'll tell you a secret: there are a great many songs from all the singers where I still don't know what they're singing without looking up the lyrics. There are many factors involved and the mix is only one of them. So yes, I think I get what the dissatisfaction is about, but I can't say I share it. (Yes, I know, we're not getting live versions of this for years if ever. My opinion remains unchanged)

For real, though, listen to that bass. Beautiful

It's a short 8 minutes (but then again, 8 minutes isn't really 'long' in Nightwish terms, is it). I am so, so excited for the rest of the album. And hoping perhaps we'll get another single between now and September.

[writerscornercafe]

WCC's Round Robin #6

Thank you @tommokat (pink) @thinlinez (green) @lhhomefics (red) and @beelou (blue)! This was so fun to write! We can't wait for the next week!

Harry buried his face further into his arms, trying to block out the musky smell of the prison cell they were in. Never in a million years would he believe he was going to get arrested. He supposed if you are in a relationship with Louis fucking Tomlinson, it was bound to happen… The only matter was when.

“Hey babe.”

Harry groaned into his arms, “Don’t hey babe me!” He could hear Louis walking around the cell, seemingly examining everything like going to prison was a semblance of going to a museum.

“I don’t know why you’re so mad, love. I googled before, trespassing isn’t really a crime in the UK. I’ve done it before with Z. If you keep worrying, your lovely curls are gonna fall out.”

Harry seriously couldn’t understand why Louis would want to have their third anniversary date in an abandoned warehouse, even going so far as to spray painting the walls with his declaration of love (this was sweet though) and then building a campfire so that Harry could roast marshmallows… 

Harry huffed into his arms as he felt Louis sit down next to him. Louis put an arm around him and Harry had half a mind to shake it off because he was still upset but he liked it too much so he just leaned into Louis till he hugged him even as he refused to take his head out of his arms. 

“Babe…. I’m sorry. Please don’t ignore me” Louis apologized into Harry’s hair.

“Well what do you want me to do in a fucking prison cell Louis,” Harry said angrily, lifting his head up just to glare at Louis.

Louis was about to say something when a guard interrupted them. 

“One phone call,” he said, then unlocked the cell and led them both down the hall to the phone.

“Who are you going to call?” Louis mumbled to Harry.

“The only number I know by heart is my mum’s and yours. What about you?” Harry answered just as quietly.

“Aww, you memorized my phone number? That’s sweet,” Louis cooed

Harry rolled his eyes. “We’ve been dating for three years, of course I memorized your number. It’s not gonna help us now, though, is it?” Harry snapped, still annoyed that Louis even got them into this mess in the first place. 

“I’m sorry, babe. I’ll get us out, I promise,” Louis vowed. Harry looked at him warily, but Louis’ eyes shone with sincerity. “Cross my heart.”

“Okay. I believe you,” Harry sighed. “Cross your heart all you want,  just don’t go dying.”

They were separated into two small alcoves, white phones hanging on the wall like a last beacon of hope. Harry really didn’t want to call his mother, but it’s the only person he could call. He certainly didn’t know the number for the Ghostbusters.

After a less than stellar talking-to from his usually calm and collected mum, he was led back to the cell sans Louis. He didn’t like being in the prison cell to begin with, but it was even worse without his boyfriend.

Louis motioned for him to settle beside him on the tiny rickety one person bed. “Well this is a nice change of scenery.” His boyfriend said jovially, looking up at the miniscule window high on the wall.

“It’s a prison cell.”

“I was being sarcastic.” Louis snorted as Harry cast a wary and dreaded glance at the toilet bowl in the corner. There wasn’t even a toilet in here! Just a metal bowl… He shuddered, turning his face into Louis’ shoulder.

“Help will be here soon.” Louis reassured him, kissing his forehead.

How could Louis always be so cocky and confident? Harry sighed.

Some hours passed, or was it only mere minutes? There wasn’t a clock and the shadows on the walls remained unchanging. Harry wondered how he would be able to carve the number of days into the cell walls if he didn’t even know the time.

The jingling of keys. His head snapped up, banging right into Louis’ chin as his boyfriend let out a pained grunt. Harry didn’t have time to coo over Louis’ bruised chin because someone was unlocking their cell door.

“See I told you help will be here soon,” Louis said in relief as the door opened to reveal a guard and Zayn.

“Should I even ask how this happened,” Zayn said to Louis  in lieu of a greeting, hugging Harry as he rushed into Zayn’s arms in relief.

“Why do you assume I’m at fault here?” Louis huffed as he joined his boyfriend in hugging Zayn.

“Well, Harry definitely wouldn’t be at fault so that leaves you.” Zayn said as Harry mumbled in agreement.

“Anyway, as sweet as this is I think you’re not here to join us in this cell Z, so let’s get out of here,” Louis snapped with an eye roll, pulling out of the hug and dragging Harry into his own arms as well.

Harry hugged back, relief flooding his body as they walked together out of the prison. Louis filled Zayn in on what happened and Harry tuned it out. He was exhausted.

“Harry, babe? You alright?” Louis asked, concern written all over his face.

Harry sighed. “Yeah, just tired. All we did was sit in an enclosed room but all I want to do is go home, take a shower, and go to bed.”

“Alright, I’m heading out, then. Get some rest, Harry,” Zayn said, giving them each another hug and they thanked him again for bailing them out before waving and going to his car.

“Have I told you how sorry I am for getting us thrown in jail, yet?” Louis asked with a pout.

Harry sighed and dug Louis’ phone out of their bag of possessions returned to them. “You have. I’ll forgive you. Later.” He held Louis’ phone out to him. “For now, you are in charge of getting us a ride home. And you’re in charge of getting the car tomorrow morning from that warehouse’s parking lot. And you have to make me breakfast in bed tomorrow morning.”

Louis laughed, opening up the Uber app on his phone. “Even if it’s just Cocoa Pops and a cuppa?”

“Even if it’s just Cocoa Pops and a cuppa,” Harry agreed. He snuggled into Louis’ side, closing his eyes in a relief he never thought he’d feel in his whole life: out of prison relief.

“Five minutes out, babe,” Louis murmured. He wrapped his arms around Harry and kissed the crown of his head. “I’ll get you home, showered, and in bed in no time.”

“Can I make one more request?”

“Baby, you can request the world and I’ll give it to you.”

“Mm,” Harry hummed. Even when Louis did something dumb, he still made Harry ridiculously happy. He pulled his head up to look at Louis and grinned. “I think just a kiss will do for now. But I’ll let you know if I need the world.”“Please do,” Louis smiled, pressing his lips against Harry’s gently. “After all, I did just get you a criminal record.”

[mayumiiyuu]

xi. scarlet.

the kaleidoscope project masterlist

tw: mentions of blood, wounds.

Laying down in the middle of an open field surrounded by electric heat radiators connected by various extension chords to the RV while also being wired to several rechargeable batteries was probably the strangest form of preparation to kill an all-powerful being from the Upside Down. 

A harsh contrast to the others, who were hammering nails away at the tops of garbage cans to create deadly shields, crafting makeshift spears with knives, and flammable projectiles. Nancy and Max were hacking and sawing through the end of a shotgun, for what purpose I didn't know.

Though it seemed as if I were leisurely soaking up the heat, my powers heavily relied on my absorption of heat and electric energy—that of which was provided by the radiators and batteries. Heatstroke was of no worry to me, in fact, I was practically immune to it. 

With cables that were meant to jumpstart a car clamped down on my palms, I closed my eyes, drinking in all the energy I was surrounded by like a cold lemonade on a hot summer's day—only it was really the other way around.

I open an eye momentarily, distracted by Eddie and Dustin's playful rough housing, glancing at the others now and again to see what they were doing. As I closed my eyes again, I let my thoughts flow, not in a way to let them aimlessly wander, but to go over the plan one more time, and the countless 'what if' scenarios that came to my mind.

Still, one thing remained unchanging despite all of the unpredictability of our circumstances: I was going to protect them all with my life.

"Holy shit, I knew it was gonna be hot but I didn't think it'd be this hot." 

I chuckle, knowing exactly who that voice belonged to. "I told you, I need this."

"Look at the rest of us, all hard at work while High Priestess (Y/N) harvests the powers of the sun." 

I unclamp the cables from my hands, propping myself up with my elbows, taking in Eddie's warm brown eyes.

"You know, I still don't know why you guys trust me even after.."

Eddie takes a seat near me, far enough so he doesn't get caught up in the sweltering heat the radiators cast. "Because we know you, (Y/N), you aren’t going to let Vecna in your head again—besides, we’ve got ABBA on our side."

I chew on my bottom lip anxiously, my eyebrows furrowed. "Are we really going to take the chance that Vecna somehow implanted something inside me to turn on you guys?"

Eddie shrugs. "You know me, not much of a gambler. But I'll take those odds."

"What if he tries using me against you again? What if I'm the reason everything goes wrong?" I mutter, fiddling with my fingers.

He looks up to the sky, deep in thought as he scratched his cheek. "You know, Max said something about Vecna only bringing out the darkest parts of you so..maybe if you thought of happier stuff that'd make it harder for him to control you—which, I uh, doubt will happen anyway," He looks to me, cocking his head at me curiously. "Have any memories in mind?"

I stand up, switching off the radiators as I sit by him. "Yeah, I think I have a few, no matter how utterly depressing my life was before." I mumble out the last part under my breath, which despite its lowness Eddie somehow manages to hear it.

"Let's practice then," he turns around so we're sitting face to face. "Think of a memory right now, okay? Three, two, one, go!"

I shut my eyes, a small smile on my face as I recalled a particular memory that made me smile. 

"Aw, come on, (nickname), you've gotta say it out loud."

I crack open my left eye at him. "What do you mean?"

"Pretty sure I read somewhere that you remember things better I'd you say them aloud."

I widen my eyes, a hand over my chest as I feign shock. "You read?"

He gives me a playful shove, causing me to giggle before I shove him back. 

"Okay, seriously, go, do it!"

"Okay, okay!" I shut my eyes again. 

"So what're you thinking of?" I hear a lilt in his voice as if he were amused.

"I'm thinking of.." I pause as my mind fills with  images of the memory, like I was watching it on a television screen. "That time you dared me to jump into Lover's Lake that one summer, and when I asked for your help to get back up, I pulled you in." My words are tinted with a giggle as I crack my eyes open once more, seeing Eddie grinning from ear to ear.

"That's a good one." He nods.

As we continue to play the game of me closing my eyes and telling him all my happiest memories, we eventually trickle into lighthearted conversation, as if we weren't just about to face yet another life or death situation, leaving our lives entirely up to fate, laughing and joking around like we were normal teenagers talking about stupid little things as twilight started to stretch across the atmosphere.

I feel the muscles of my stomach finally relax after having cackled so hard about one of Eddie's anecdotes, I found my fingers twisting and pulling on the grass as I fidgeted, a thought sticking itself to my mind, urging me to speak it aloud—which I do.

"You know," I start, reaching out to trace the rings on his fingers. "I think I've realized something."

"Lay it on me, sugar." Eddie responds with a smile.

"When—when I was in that trance, or whenever I got a headache, I realized that it was you," he furrows his eyebrows as he stares at me, puzzled. "Not like that, more like..like you were the one thing that anchored me back to reality. Your voice is what brought me back each time."

I see Eddie's tongue prod out of his teeth as he processes this, opening his mouth to say something, but before he can utter a word, Nancy calls us all back to the RV in order to finalize our preparations and plans.

I feel my stomach twist as Eddie and I shoot each other a look. 

Here goes nothing.

....

Dark settles over the atmosphere as night rolls in, furthering the intensity of the tension we all feel as we took our places in the vehicle, armed as we donned on our battle gear.

"Okay. I wanna run through it one more time." Nancy's stare is fierce and unwavering as she looks at all of us. "Phase one."

"We meet Erica at the playground. She'll signal Max and Lucas when we're ready." Robin answers.

"Phase two." Nancy looks at Steve, whose stare is uneasy yet determined.

"Max baits Vecna. He'll go after her which'll put him in his trance."

"Phase three?" She turns to Dustin and Eddie.

"Me and Eddie draw away the bats."

Nancy inhales. "Four."

"We head into Vecna's newly bat-free lair, and," Robin shakes a bottle full of lighter fluid. "Flambé."

Nancy looks to me, and I already feel my palms start to sweat nervously under her gaze. 

"(Y/N), as per what you told me about Eddie being able to anchor you, you'll stay with them. We'll send out a signal if we're in trouble and need your help."

I can only nod as I feel my heart start to pulsate.

"Nobody moves on to the next phase until we've all copied. Nobody deviates from the plan, no matter what. Got it?" Nancy's voice is stern and steady as she looks to us for an answer.

"Got it." We all day in chorus.

While the others were decked out in hunting garments, I settled on combat boots and my red jacket—for luck, I told myself. It had been the jacket my mother had gotten me for my first ever birthday, I had worn it one day I aced a test I wasn't prepared for, and I wore it that day I met Eddie. I wasn't much of the superstitious type, but I figured we needed all the luck we could get.

In the dead of night, we made our way towards Eddie's trailer. Eddie’s hands and mine brush one another as we walk, and I feel static between us again. I beg the gods and all my lucky stars and each and every celestial body that I get to feel his touch more even after this.

Once we enter the trailer, Steve is quick to heave himself up and back into the Upside Down, landing perfectly on his feet as he flipped. He shrugs up at us, to which Robin responds with a quirked eyebrow.

"What does he want us to do, applaud?" Even as we enter a dangerous situation, I appreciate Robin and all her sarcasm. I nudge Nancy softly as I see the smirk on her face, which makes her roll her eyes at me.

After we all climb up one after the other and crash on Eddie's mattress on the other side, alone with the rest of their weapons, I take a moment to look at each of them.

"Hey," I say. "We need to kill that son of a bitch. For Max, for everything at stake. Whatever it takes."

They all glance at each other briefly, Eddie placing a hand to my shoulder.

"Whatever it takes." He nods, and the rest follow.

Before Robin leaves I give her one last hug. 

"Be careful out there, Buckley."

She gives me a lopsided grin, patting me on the back. 

"Be back before you know it, Willows."

Steve turns to us, utter seriousness taking over his features as he reminds us that if things took a turn for the worse, I would get Eddie and Dustin to abort.

"I'm counting on you, Willows." He gives me a small nod, to which I reply with a curt one, before he settles his gaze on Eddie and Dustin.

"Don't try to be cute or be a hero or something, you guys are just—"

"Decoys," the two day in chorus as Dustin speaks up. "Don't worry. You can be the hero, Steve."

Eddie nods. "Absolutely, I mean, look at us, Eddie and Dustin share a look. "We are not heroes."

His eyes find mine, as if to say I were the only exception. As Steve turns to leave, Eddie calls his attention.

"Make him pay."

The tension in the air is palpable, I could practically feel all our heartbeats pulsate as silence fills the air, before the two men give each other a silent nod.

Dustin, Eddie, and I are quick to start of reinforcing his trailer, gathering up various sturdy materials and working with a power drill to turn his home in the Upside Down into an impenetrable fortress. I help heft up Eddie's sound system up on the roof, pushing and pulling until we have everything set up.

We stand back, chests heaving from our initial preparations. The trailer looks straight out of an apocalypse movie, fortified to keep out zombie hoards from attacking—or in this case, bats from hell.

In spite of the perilous situation that had begun to slowly unfold, Eddie and Dustin still smile, proud of their hard work. "Not bad." 

"Not bad all." Dustin echoes, while I huff in disbelief over their laid back nature, still on edge as my heart palpitated each time lightning flashed through the sky.

Eddie nudges the both of us.

"Now for the fun part."

....

"What do you say Henderson, Willows?" Eddie mutters as he picks up his guitar, still awestruck by how it was, quote on quote, 'destined for an alternate dimension'. "Are you ready for the most metal concert in the history of the world?"

"That a rhetorical question?" Dustin grins.

I fold my arms over my chest, running my tongue over my canines as I shrug. "Give 'em hell, Munson."

Eddie slips on the strap attached to his guitar. 

"Let's do it."

Eddie grabs my hand as he helps hoist me up to the roof, I do the same to help Dustin until the three of us stand there, eyes and ears peeled out for some sort of sign. I chew on my lip, anxiety taking over me as I feel my palms start to sweat, hurriedly wiping them on my jeans. Noticing my unrest, Eddie laced his fingers with mine, effectively grounding me back to reality, bursting me out of my thoughts.

"(Y/N)," he says, gaze flickering towards Dustin, I follow his gaze, turning my head to see Dustin's grin fade into a neutral expression as he pretends to pick at his nails. I furrow my brows in confusion before I feel Eddie's hand scup my face, forcing me to look back at him. "I just.. I want you to know that—that I, um.. you-you mean a lot to me."

I gaze at him, doe-eyed and somewhat puzzled at his sudden sentimental words before I nod, squeezing his hand. "You mean a lot to me too."

"More than everything, (Y/N). You mean more to me than everything."

"You mean so much to me, too. More than anything, Eds." I lean my face into his touch. We both pull away abruptly as turn to when we heard radio static, then Robin's voice.

"She's in, move onto phase three."

I suck in a breath, my nerves on end as I imagined Max now trapped in Vecna’s sick mindscape. 

"Copy that. Initiating phase three." Dustin answers, turning to Eddie with a nod as he connects the amp. "Let's hope they hear this."

Eddie's usual carefree demeanor is long gone as his facial features turn into a grave expression, eyes smoldering like a forest fire as he practically rips off his guitar pick necklace.

"Chrissy," he mutters, steadying his guitar. "This is for you."

With a whine from the amp and a yell from Eddie, the concert begins. His body moves back and forth, banging his head to the rhythm of the song as he strums the guitar, fingers meticulously crossing to and fro on the respective frets.

I can't help but follow him, stomping my foot along to the music that poured loudly through the speakers, rocking my head back and forth while there were still no sign of the bats. I did this more so to ease my nerves than anything, shake everything out of my system before my own anxieties would cause a fluke in the plan. I was not going to allow myself to succumb to my thoughts.

"End of passion play!" I shout out, too entranced in the music to care, remembering all those moments Eddie had me watch him rehearse this song for weeks on end. "Crumbling away!"

"Come crawling faster," The lyrics to the song falls out of my mouth in mumble now as time passes, steadying myself as I felt it again, something crawling around inside me, making my stomach lurch, I mustered every ounce of willpower inside me to ignore it. No, don't come crawling faster you stupid piece of shit, stay the hell away from me. 

"Obey your master." I mutter to myself, reminding that I had complete control over myself. Images flash in my mind, causing me to wince in pain as another headache racked my brain. I grit my teeth. No, I think, I'm not giving into you, Vecna. Not when I have people I need to protect.

"Guys!" I hear Dustin shout, my eyes glowing red as my fingers twitched, pulsating with energy. "We gotta lock down in T-minus 30 seconds!"

"T-minus 20!" Dustin yells again as he looks with his binoculars, launching Eddie into the sickest, most insane guitar solo I've ever seen him play, as if he himself were the Master of Puppets.

"T-minus 10!" Dustin's voice now feels muffled against the high-pitched ringing in my ears. I shook my head, screaming at myself to get a grip, all the while Eddie played faster and faster as Dustin continued to count down, ending his solo just in time as the bats drew close.

I clenched my jaw, palms sparking red as I threw blasts at them, effectively covering Dustin and Eddie as they scrambled inside. I let my fingers dance and twitch as I hurled once last sphere at one that flew too close, before Eddie grabbed me by my jacket and shut the makeshift gate.

I rest my hands on my knees as I huffed, evening out my breathing while Dustin and Eddie jumped around, adrenaline rushing through them as they screamed in exhilaration. I chuckled softly at their antics, before I feel the hairs in my neck stand on end.

"Red." A voice growled in my ear, I shut my eyes, hands covering my ears.

"Shut the fuck up." I mutter through gritted teeth. Eddie and Dustin take quick notice, rushing towards me.

"(Y/N)? (Y/N), what's wrong?"

"Nothing—just, another headache." I mumble out as I clutched my forehead.

"Shit." Dustin says, shooting Eddie a concerned look. "But, Max, Vecna's in her head right now, how—?"

His question is interrupted abruptly as we hear the bats start to attack the outside of the trailer. I scramble to my feet, hands raised, with my palms outward as I continued to collect energy from within myself, standing back to back with Eddie and Dustin who held their weapons and shields.

For a moment, the screeching stops. But that only makes us all the more tense as we stand on edge, watching and waiting for their next move. Dustin yells out to the bats, but I only pay half attention, all my concentration centered around keeping that damn crawling feeling from coming back to me, even as whispers and distant cries echo inside my mind.

We look up as we hear a clattering on the roof.

Spears in hand, I follow Eddie and Dustin as we slowly make our way towards the sound, bats trilling and ceiling rattling furiously until we spot one trying to get in through the vent.

"They can't get in through there, can they?" Dustin mutters. 

He spoke too soon, as a bat screeches, clawing it's way inside. Dustin and Eddie yell out a war cry, raising their spears to attack and stab at the incoming bats.

Sweat trickles down my forehead as I step closer. "Move!" I raise my fingers, carefully aimed at the bats, a small sphere spinning around my pointer finger before I positioned my finger straight at the bats, hand gestured in a way that I was mimicking a gun, blasting them away with a fine beam to assure that I didn't create a gaping hole in the roof.

Just as I'm about to raise another hand to blast at more of the bats, I stumble backwards, a migraine worse than the last crashing over my brain.

"(Y/N)! We need you!" Dustin yells out, too preoccupied and panicked to realize what was happening to me while more bats tried to enter. Eddie was quick to spot me, grabbing a chair and his shield to plug up the vent, stabbing through the bats in the process.

We all stand there for a moment, our breathing growing heavier by the minute. I meekly turn my head up to Eddie.

"Are-are there any other vents?"

His eyes grow wide. "Shit."

I fumbled in my step as we all ran towards his room, only to be met with a flurry of bats crashing through the floor. Eddie quickly ushers us away, slamming the door closed, only to see the claw marks of the bats as they viciously tore through the wood.

"That's not gonna hold!" Dustin screams as his frenzied eyes look at the door.

"Go! Now! Both of you!" I order, palms inflamed in red, even as another migraine shook my skull, forehead no drenched it sweat.

Dustin is quick to obey, climbing up the rope as Eddie and I watch the door.

"It's time to stop resisting." I hear Eddie say, his weapons clattering in the floor.

"What?" I spun around to look at him, only for fear to churn in my stomach as I saw his murky eyes.

"Stop resisting, Red."

....

I gasp for air as a tendril shoots out from a wall, trapping me by my throat and limbs. I struggle, of course I do, my heart hammering against my chest as I realize I’ve been forcibly pulled out of my own consciousness and back into that hellhole of a dimension yet again.

Vecna doesn’t waste his time, he is standing right in front of me, hand raised.

“I told you, Red. Out of the goodness in my heart I gave you an offer, and you refused,” he steps closer, and I feel his fingers scrape my scalp. “You have seen how they fear you, Red. You will always be made to destroy, that is your fate.”

I try to turn my head away from him, feeling my hands spark with power, only for the tendril around my neck to twist even tighter, completely blocking off my air supply.

“You will always break everything, and you will always be broken.”

“No.” I splutter out, barely even able to choke out the words. “You’re wrong.”

Vecna’s words echo throughout my mind: turn that anger into wrath and that wrath into power.

But I could always draw power from something else.

I shut my eyes, my memories flowing freely, focusing intently on the good ones. Eddie and I wrestling for the remote on his couch, my mother and I singing our hearts out to ABBA songs, goofing off with Robin as I annoyed her when she worked at the mall. All the best, happiest memories came flooding in all at once.

I didn’t know what to expect, but when I opened my eyes all I saw was Vecna, head cocked to the side.

“You will never be anything else. All you will ever bring is pain. You are a weapon, meant only to destroy.”

I feel my nostrils flare, my eyes bearing directly into his murky ones, all the muscles in my body contracting and tensing as I felt a surge of unadulterated power course through my veins. "I don't need you to tell me who I am."

I rip my hand from the wall, vines bursting into dust, freeing my wrists then my limbs, until I stand proudly on my own, face and mind etched with open defiance.

"You have no power over me. Not anymore." My eyes glowed, dangerously scarlet as energy began to gather in my palms. For a split second I see shock flash on his desiccated face, before it vanished as quickly as it came.

"They will never stop fearing you, loathing you for your abilities." Vecna snarls, bringing his hand forward to let more debris fall onto me. I don't even bat an eye as I raise my hand, turning it into nothing but harmless feathers with my touch.

"Then let them fear me—I can't control their fear, only my own."

Vecna stumbles backward with each blast I hurl towards him, each one faster and stronger until he falls to his knees. That's when I slam my palm onto his head, gripping his forehead tight. Interdimensional being or not, he was still made of something—born from matter and molecules as I used all the willpower inside me to decimate him. A beam of red light shoots out from my palm, turning him into nothing but dust.

"Get the hell out of my mind!"

I am suddenly pulled back into reality as I land on my knees, coughing violently as I spluttered out something that had just been dislodged from my throat. My stomach turns with disgust as I see a spider-like creature covered in my own spit feebly attempt to escape before I crush it under my foot.

Rot in hell.

"(Y/N)!" I turn abruptly at the sound of Dustin's voice as he comes crashing into me, hand on my back to soothe my hacking.

"Where—" I manage to say, wiping drool from the corner of my mouth. "Where's Eddie?"

The answer to my question comes in the form of Eddie's yells coming from the distance. My eyes widen in realization before I bolt right up back on my feet, sprinting even as my lungs barely recovered from the aggressive hacking I had gone through earlier, burning and begging for air as I continued to ignore it. The only thing that raced through my mine was that I needed for Eddie to be safe.

My body moves before I can even think, swiftly bursting through the door and climbing over a chain linked fence, even as I land awkwardly and stumble, I disregard the ache in my foot as I continue to run desperately to where Eddie was; heart hammering against my chest as I willed my legs to go faster when I saw a bat wrap it's tail around his neck, followed by two other bats attacking.

I dive, sliding on my knees against the pavement as to avoid any of the swooping bats, blasting them with all my might, quick as lightning before I find my hands wrapped around the tail that held Eddie's neck in a vice-like grip. In a panic, I dig deep into its molecular structure, manipulating and commanding the atoms however I intended; despite being completely unfamiliar with its makeup, matter was still matter, everything was made from atoms and carbon. The bat crumbled to dust in my hands.

Before I can even act on the bats that attacked his legs, I'm whisked into the air by a flurry of even more bats, biting and gnawing at my arms. I let out a scream, my eyes flashing red as I feel energy completely envelope me, the bats’ hold on me weakens, dropping me onto the ground almost brutally. Despite the pain of the gashes they had torn into my flesh and the ache in my body from crashing into the ground, I keep going, I keep pushing and flicking my wrists while my fingers twitched at the sudden bursts of energy; hurling, flinging, and casting charges at the creatures. I am angry and wrathful and so fucking tired of being frozen with fear, fear of my abilities and my potential to hurt. Fear no more, (Y/N). You are a weapon and you will be used for good, no more fearing yourself. Not when you have people to protect.

Anything to protect them—anything to protect Eddie.

Eddie.

In the heat of the battle, only then had I realized my back was turned from him.

I look towards Eddie, and my heart stops. I hear my heartbeat in my ears, quelling any of the demonic screeches of the bats, the tumultuous booming of thunder as red lightning flashed across the sky, Dustin's own frantic yells as I catch sight of Eddie, laying on his back as the creatures dig their teeth into him.

All I see is red; violent, ferocious red, as white-hot fury consumes me. A shockwave echoes thunderously across the atmosphere, electrocuting and stunning bats midair, demobats exploding into ash as I let out an ear piercing wail. Even the bats that surrounded him faded away into nothing but smoke as I fell to my knees, anguish and rage racking through my body.

No, I tell myself. Not like this.

I rush to his side, barely collecting myself as I gently lay his head on my lap, my hands running over his torso as I checked the severity of his wounds—only to see my hands covered in blood.

"Shh, shh, it's okay, Eddie, it's going to be okay, everything's going to be okay." I chant like a prayer, even when I knew that there was no god here. Not in a place like this.

Even as blood dribbles out of his mouth, he smiles at me, with those sweet brown eyes I had learned to love so dearly.

"Come on, Eds, get up, you need to get up." My words sound like pleas as they make their way out my mouth, he stumbles back even as he attempts to prop himself up, my urging continues as I try to heave him up into my arms. I cursed the lab for not instilling in me super strength, but none of that mattered now, all my thoughts and whispers in my head were silenced as he shakes his head.

"I can't," he chuckles. "I'm sorry, (Y/N), I can't."

Tears stream down my face, an endless waterfall as I find myself hiccuping in between sobs.

"No, no, please don't say that Eddie."

"Hey, it's okay, I'll be okay. It's my year right? I can feel it, it's finally my year, (Y/N)."

"No! You can't—no, please, Eddie, don't leave me, please." I bury my face into his palm, peppering his hand with kisses as it starts to dawn on me that this may be the last time I'll ever feel his touch.

"'M never gonna leave you gorgeous," He breathes out, still smiling at me even as a tear slides down his face. "Always gonna be here, right in your heart or some cheesy shit. But I'll always be with you babe, forever and ever," he coughs, and I hold him even tighter.

"Never even got the chance to tell you how much I love you. More than anything—more than everything."

"I love you. More Than anything and everything." I don't even know how I manage to say that as my body is racked aggressively with even more sobs.

"Take care of the kiddos for me, alright? All the lost sheepies out there."

"No, no, Edward Munson don't you fucking say that to me, don't you ever—"

"Just say it, doofus." He grins, poking my nose feebly.

I nod my head, holding his hand in mine. "I'll take care of them."

"Save the world, supergirl. I know you'll be great." He chuckles, coughing up even more blood even as I lay my hand on his chest, attempting to steady him.

��I didn’t run away this time, right? ‘M always like that, except when it comes to you. Never gonna runaway when it comes to you.” My lip trembles at his words, the memory of him saving me in the past clear as day in my mind. I cursed at myself, screamed at myself for not connecting with him further back, to spend more time with his lovable, kind self that always looked out for other outcasts, kind and selfless towards everyone even when the world had turned their backs on him.

His breathing is labored now, chest rising and falling softer and softer until he closes his eyes.

I was not losing him. Not like this. I am not going to go another day without seeing his eyes crinkle with laughter, his arms around my waist as we slow dance to some old-timey song that he pretended to hate. We're going to grow old together, Edward Munson, we're going to get high and debate about the meaning of life and whether or not ABBA was better than Metallica and create chaos as we chase each other around in wheelchairs at a home for the elderly. I am going to tell you how much I love you every day of your life. 

I am not losing you—I just can't.

I still feel his heartbeat, as faint as it was, it was still beating, fighting valiantly to stay alive. I press my hand over his wounds, clamping my eyes shut as I focused, digging deep into my mind and soul for some ounce of strength to bring him back. I couldn't bring back the dead. But I could manipulate atoms however I wished, and everything was made from them.

Another memory pops into my head, another stupid memory. But this one was important. It had to be. I remember Green, how he could heal with a touch of his finger, how I had asked him how he did that; he told me to listen, listen carefully because if you paid attention enough you'd know that everything had some sort of life in it. And I was going to pull that life back into him.

I furrow my eyebrows in concentration, commanded the atoms in his flesh to produce more platelets to stop the blood from gushing out, freezing blood cells in place, stitching together tissue and reconnecting blood vessels.

I didn't even get the chance to see whether I had succeeded or not in healing him as I passed out from exhaustion, Dustin's voice echoing faintly in the distance as darkness took over my vision.

....

taglist: @preciousbabypeter @iiheartbowie @beebeerockknot @nightless @lovelydivs @lovelydivs @lunar-flwr @naughty-koala07 @slutforsteve @chaoticvigilantes @loudbluepancake @frozenhuntress67 @greekktragedyy @neenieweenie @efvyqrs @vintagemoss

[ellitx]

Frailty | Kazuha x Reader

No matter how many times you've run away from your practices, Kazuha is always able to find you.

art belongs to rivaiiwah

word count: 1.8k

           Here you are with the cherry blossoms sprouting from the branches, looking to the casual eye as flowers until they bloom. Who pays attention to their chaotic stems that twist in the joy of new life until they wear colors that soothe the viewer’s perception.

           Then there they are in the air that becomes more welcoming each day, a community of colors, a feast for butterflies and bees. 

           A new beginning. 

           A little pink petal was plucked off from the group, letting it float alone in the air as it landed on your hand. Your eyes peered over the frond and lifted it up to the sunlight to observe the bright colors of it.

           “[Name]-sama, there you are.”

           You whipped your head and smiled at the caller when he approached you. “Kazuha? What brings you here?” You questioned as you fixed your hold on the parasol. His brows scrunched up and let out a sigh as he fixed the sleeve of his outfit. 

           “Ayaka-sama, was looking for you.”

           “Ane? Why’s that?” You questioned.

           He sighed once again and pinched your cheeks a bit harshly. “You need to practice your purification rituals. Your siblings are looking for you again and now they’re worried about you.”

           “Ah— Kazuha, that hurts…!” You grasped his hand to release his hold on your face, but to no avail, he won’t budge. Seconds later, he finally and slowly let go and spared your cheeks from reddening to which you rubbed it to alleviate the sharp pain.

           His gaze went to the blooming flower of cherry blossoms and watched how the wind fluttered the petals. Ruby gems have softened at the sight of the newly sprung tree before focusing on the young princess of Kamisato.

           Your name uttered from his lips making you arch a brow at him in puzzlement. His lips parted slightly and waited for a moment before asking. “I’m just wondering why are you here. There are sakura trees at your residence, though.” He stated as he scratched his cheek with his index finger.

           Your throat hummed and looked at the sky in wonder. “Ah that… I think you already know the answer to that.” He knew for sure he saw your eyes glinted in mischief when you looked at him. 

           That smirk plastered on your face didn’t go unnoticed by him. He was quiet for a minute making you giggle and stifle it with your hand. Kazuha groaned in flicked your head much to your surprise.

           “Ouch!”

           “I’m taking you back to the Kamisato residence whether you like it or not.” 

           “Kazuha!! No please—“

—

           “Oh my, it seems like he already found her.” The young mistress giggled and watched both of you entered through the main gate with the swordsman pushing you inside. You were writhing and shaking your arm, doing your best to escape from him.

           At the sight of your face, your brother’s smile widened, and quickly wore his geta and engulfed you in a bear hug. “[Name], where have you been?! I was worried sick when I saw you weren’t inside your room!” He screeched and cried hysterically before glaring at Kazuha.

           It sent a shiver down his spine before averting his gaze away from Ayato and squared his shoulders. “Hmph, I could’ve found her on my own, but the archon must have graced you to guide my little sister back home.” Your brother grumbled as he patted your head in an assuring manner. You heaved a sigh and mouthed a sorry to your friend which he just waved it off.

           Ayaka reached to where the three of you are and deeply bowed to Kazuha in thanks. “Thank you and sorry for bothering you to look for [Name]. We’ll be sure to compensate you greatly.” She remarked and motioned for him to come inside.

           “It’s fine, Ayaka-sama. I was just happy and relieved to know she didn’t stray too far from here.” He peeked at you from the corner of his eyes before looking back at your older sister.

           “You can drop the formalities. And also, aniki, you’re suffocating [Name].” She respired and pulled you away from Ayato’s loving hugs making you sigh in relief and thank her.

           He pouted and huffed before crossing his arms and narrowly eyed you. His nature quickly changed in a blink and you know for sure you’re in a trouble just the way he lightly frowned at you.

           “[Name].” Your body shivered and avoided looking at him as you cowered behind Kazuha. “Y-yes…?” You muttered softly and tightly gripped on his clothes. 

           “Why did you skipped practicing?” You gulped down your fear and sheepishly smiled at Ayato, trying to think of an excuse. 

           “Well, it’s spring! You know how much I love sakura flowers and watch them bloom before me, aniki!” A peal of tense laughter slipped from your mouth and nudged Kazuha asking for help. Your [eye color] eyes were pleadingly gazed upon his for help as you shook his arm lightly to get him to understand your gestures.

           Sighing for an umpteenth time on this day. He faced Ayato sternly making him pause when he saw Kazuha’s face got darker. A bead of sweat rolled down his temples yet never faltering his stare onto him.

           “Ayato-sama, just lock the door if she ever escapes again.” Kazuha’s eyes returned back to their usual light and grabbed you by your shoulders, placing you in front. His fingers pointed at you and then grinned slyly at you.

           Your eyes widened but before you could open your mouth to speak out, his words made you stopped in your tracks and your face paled while your lips were parted a bit. “If she does run away again, don’t hesitate to call me. I’ll make sure she does her practices frequently.”

           The cunning smile glued on his pretty face made you scared. From the other’s perspective he seemed like an innocent and nice teen, but for you, oh you know that smile very well. He didn’t want to indulge in your escapades and he’s going to pay you back with his own mischievousness. 

    —

           “Sein!”

           You threw a talisman onto the dummy as your index and middle finger were stick together and the rest were closed. “Sein?” Kazuha’s brow raised in bewilderment at your chant and stared at the dummy. He was expecting something would happen but sadly there was none.

           It only stood still, remaining unchanging. “[Name], it’s read as sho-shi-tsu.” Ayaka said as she removed the piece of paper on the figurine. “And isn’t sein something you would hear in Mondstadt?” 

           Your lips formed a grin as your optics shined brightly in excitement. “Sein sounds way cooler than shoshitsu!” A strong impact was thrown on your head making you cry in pain and place your hand on it protectively.

           “[Name]-sama, please take this seriously.” Kazuha exhaled through his nose and stretched your cheeks making you whine even more at the increasing pain. Ayaka laughed lightly at the sight of you two as she took the brush from your hands.

           “I guess we can practice next time, is that alright with you? I still have to practice my sword fight with Tohama.” Ayaka awaited your response while she kept the materials back to their rightful place.

           You merely giggled and shoved her playfully. “It’s fine~ Have a nice date with him!” Her face flushed and her silver eyes widened in surprise as she continuously stuttered. 

           “I-it’s not a date!”

           “Right, right.” You pushed her out of the room and gave her a hug before closing the door gently. You leaned your body against it and heaved a sigh at the exhausting purification practices.

           It really tired your mind and body so much. Even though you joke around sometimes to loosen up that stiff body of yours, you know you still need to work hard on it because of your duty as a shrine maiden. 

           Purifications are much needed and required in the Kamisato house. Ayaka has already mastered everything from arts to music and even poetry, and yet here you are, not even having the slightest talent like her to accomplish such things.

          Ayaka is the embodiment of perfection and nobleness, there's no doubt about that. Her form is even more elegant than yours and how she handles tea ceremonies more delicately unlike you who somehow still spills the tea from nervousness no matter how much you've practiced mastering it.

           It really tired you out how they expect so many things for you. 

           Being noble is really hard.

           The anemo-user noticed your destitute appearance and slowly approached you. 

           “[Name]-sama?” 

           You snapped out from your deep thoughts and shakily looked at him. “O-oh, Kazuha. I forgot you were still here…” You coughed and fixed your outfit, giving him a curious glance and asked.

           “Is something the matter?” 

           “I should be the one asking you that. It seems like something’s troubling you.”

                      His brows furrowed in worry and took a closer look at your well-being. “It’s nothing. I’m just glad I don’t have to practice anymore, it really tired me out. Ugh…” You grumbled and rested your hand on your stomach when you felt it rumbled.

           “Do you want to eat outside?” Your ears perked up and nodded eagerly like a child. For a second, you thought you saw him smile before it quickly disappeared. He offered his hand to you which you gladly accepted as he lead you to the exit of the room.

           “Kazuha’s treating me~” You sang joyfully, thinking of the foods from the stalls. Or maybe he’ll treat you to eat at a restaurant? Just thinking of it made your stomach growled even more from hungriness and excitement, imagining that freshly cooked takoyakis or even those crispy golden-brown tempuras.

           Even with all the smiles and laugh you give off, he can’t help but be bothered that you’re hiding something. You always shake off whenever he asks if you’re fine or if you needed anything.

           He wished that you could rely on him and trust him, to tell him all the troubles that have been piling up inside you. He has known you for a long time now, and yet why can’t you open up to him some more?

           If maybe, just maybe— one day he’ll be able to finally tell you how he feels. He’ll even go as far as looking for you if you escaped once more. He hopes you’ll notice the signs he’s been giving that he’s there for you and you don’t have to bottle it up.

           He wants to tell you that it’s alright to cry and feel vulnerable. He’ll love everything about you, even your own imperfections.

           Just the way you accepted and love everything about himself.

did i just write for an unreleased genshin chara? yes, yes i did, and im ready to simp for him

[sunflowersoonyoung]

honeyed | jinho

w.c ↠ 2.5k

pairing↠ jinho x fem! reader

genre/s ↠ smut (light bondage, overstimulation, fem!oral), incubus! jinho, soft dom! jinho, supernatural au!, office au!

description ↠ falling asleep at work leads to an oddly realistic dream about your hot boss Jinho

warning/s ↠ suggestive themes, supernatural themes

a/n ↠ wow okay can you tell that jinho is my ptg bias. I seriously thirsted over him in this oneshot. this is one of my favourite smuts I've written here! I wrote it carefully and reread it three times so I'm proud of it :)

tags ↠ @prismwon

-

Anxiety washed over you from head to toe, rising with each passing second. You clasped a trembling hand to your chest to feel your heart fluttering against your ribcage.

Taking a deep breath, you steeled yourself before pushing open the glass door to work.

The publishing office was bright with mellow, natural lighting, an open room dotted with large desks cluttered with stationary. Some of your coworkers had already arrived and had busied themselves with various tasks - bustling distractedly around the room.

“G-Good morning, everyone!”

You tried to announce your presence as boldly as you could; despite this, barely anyone bothered to even glance in your direction. You swallowed nervously and made a bee-line for your desk.

New to the workforce and fresh from University, acclimatising had been a difficult journey. No one was willing to sacrifice any precious time to help you - or even welcome you, for that matter. You felt utterly ostracised by the team. They had all apparently established their clique, and you were not invited.

The one exception had been the lead editor: Jo Jinho, your boss and the office eye candy.

“Good morning, (F/n).”

As if reading your thoughts, Jinho’s melodic voice drifted over your shoulder. You swallowed, feeling sweat prickle your armpits in response to his presence.

“You look bright today. I hope you’re making good progress on that manuscript.”

You pivoted in your chair to face him, in turn becoming stricken by his gaze. There was something unusual about Jinho, something that had successfully hypnotised many of your coworkers, including yourself.

He was impossible to resist. From his handsome exterior to his pleasant interior, he was genuinely mesmerising - like the sunrise in the morning after a cold night.

“Y-Yes, thank you,” you stammered, forcing a polite smile. Jinho’s smile in response was a thousand watts bright, his creased eyes just as radiant.

He was gone just as quickly as he had appeared, interacting with everyone else on the path to his desk. Your nerves melted from your taut muscles, and you breathed a sigh of relief, secretly thankful that Jinho had moved on. Being beneath his attention was too challenging to handle. You withdrew your laptop from your bag and made a start on work for the day.

Unfortunately, your concentration was coming through like a sputtering hose. You were not yet accustomed to working in a room with ten other people and limited silence.

Your attention drifted around the office. You observed conversations, watching as a young girl was scolded; a middle-aged man answered the phone with a frustrated visage.

You could not help but become drawn to Jinho.

He was hovering over someone’s shoulder - Seunghee, you vaguely remembered her name to be. Girls in the editing team tended to ask him for help suspiciously frequently. It was apparent they all simply longed after Jinho’s presence.

Admittedly, it was tempting. In that position, you could feel his breath against your ear.

You quickly became absorbed in observing him. It was not just his pretty features. His expressions were genuine, his explanations clear and concise. Fully believing you were free to admire him, you forgot your surroundings and lost yourself.

Abruptly, Jinho’s gaze shifted from Seunghee’s work to you. It was such a subtle shift that you almost failed to notice it. Electricity shot across your skin upon realisation, heat blossoming from your ears to your cheeks.

Though it was too late, you looked back to your computer screen. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see him grinning. That cruel image worsened your embarrassment.

As your mind buzzed with thoughts of Jinho’s grin, you struggled to return your focus to the manuscript as much as you tried. You huffed frustratedly.

“Everything okay, (F/n)?”

You wondered with horror if he intended to make things more difficult. Your humiliation should have been apparent, and yet here he was, standing directly behind you with a hand resting on the back of your chair.

“Y-Yes,” you responded, refusing to tear your eyes from your laptop. You could hear your voice quaking.

His palm settled on your desk, confining you. It was no longer possible to pretend he wasn’t there. His face was far too close for you to deal with.

“Really? Hmm,” He hummed, “There must be some other reason you were staring at me then.”

You could not even begin to imagine how crimson your face was. Was Jinho teasing you? It certainly felt like it.

He snorted faintly, withdrawing. On the edge of your vision, you could see him smiling broadly.

-

After getting very little work done for the rest of the afternoon, you opted to stay behind and work overtime. The manuscript was due tomorrow evening, after all.

The office buzz began to fade, gradually declining till the room was entirely quiet. The only thing disconnecting the silence was the sound of fingers against keyboards.

You decided to take a short break as your fatigue began to increase. Shadows from the night sky crept across the floor. Usually, you liked to be fed and warm at home by this time. Your eyelids were heavy, your thoughts sluggish and tired.

It was only you and Jinho remaining at this stage. You had managed to keep your thoughts away from him until now. He was wrapped up in his work; his face blank with concentration. Sighing, you ignored him and returned to your own business.

The words on your laptop screen began to blend with each passing second. You squinted, blinking rapidly to counter the weariness that was dousing you like warm water. You had never been so tired at work - it was as if you were being dragged down by an invisible force, and nothing you did could stop it. It was a similar sensation to having too much alcohol.

Before you knew it, your head had lulled onto the cold desk, crumpling the papers in front of you.

-

Alarm overwhelmed your thoughts as you lifted your head from your desk.

You could not believe you had fallen asleep at work. Rubbing your eyes, you looked towards Jinho’s desk in panic, hoping to apologise and then flee. Relief washed over you - his chair was empty. Perhaps he had gone home.

Strangely enough, the room was hazy. Instead of its usual white light, it was rose-tinted and clouded. It did not look familiar to you.

“You fell asleep? How cute.”

You blinked, and Jinho seemed to appear directly beside you, seated on the table with one leg crossed over the other. He was admiring you, cupping his cheek whilst wearing an affectionate smile.

It took a moment for you to react; your head was abnormally thick, so your thoughts were slow, but once you realised what was happening, you became flustered.

“Your face tells me everything - your expressions are so honest. It’s adorable.”

Jinho leapt smoothly to his feet, circling you to place his hands on the back of your swivel chair and then rotating you till you were facing him. You could do nothing, frozen with anticipation and unsure what to expect next.

He leant in closely, leaning on the armrests, and you held your breath. His nose was close enough to brush against yours, yet his expression was unchanged - still as sweet as usual.

“Why don’t you let me make you feel good?” He hummed. His gaze was direct, and you swooned inwardly when you finally met it. In contrast to his soft nature, his eyes were hard. You tried to swallow but your throat had gone dry.

“Wh-what if someone sees?” You stammered shyly.

Jinho chuckled, his eyes crinkling in amusement, “no one will see. I promise.”

He placed his hands on your knees, maintaining eye contact as he rubbed reassuringly. He pushed his hands up your thighs, catching the fabric of your skirt and baring your thighs to the air. You could not look away, dizzyingly mesmerised by him. Your head was getting light and hot.

Finally, Jinho kissed you. It was a shallow, chaste kiss that tasted of vanilla and made you feel as if you were melting into the chair.

You could not split your concentration between the kiss and the way his warm palms rubbed against your thighs. The combination was causing a spike of burning excitement to prickle between your legs.

He parted from you with a soft pop and offered you a hand. You were too flustered and weak-kneed to stand steadily, but it hardly mattered - Jinho did not make you stand for long.

“Let me taste you, gorgeous.”

Jinho was simultaneously gentle and firm as he guided you to his desk, carelessly sweeping it clear. You gasped when he spun you around, essentially folding you over the surface. The varnished wood was cold through the thin fabric of your shirt, momentarily sobering you to reality.

With your ass in the air, he hitched up your skirt to reveal your underpants. You were uneasy about the fact that you could not see what he was doing.

“Hands behind your back, please.”

This was Jinho’s first true order.

The way his voice dropped a few notes sent chills down your spine, goosebumps travelling across your skin. You were trembling as you obeyed, swallowing a nervous squeak when he loosely wrapped fabric around your wrists, tying them together.

“I’m not punishing you, sweet. It’s just some extra fun for you,” Jinho reassured. Admittedly you were both anxious and aroused by his decision to tie you up. It made your heart pound fast against your ribcage.

With you properly restrained, Jinho determined that it was time to begin his ministrations.

His fingers ran up and down your slit through your underwear before hooking the fabric and drawing it aside. You strained against your bonds and arched your back when he made direct contact with your pussy. It was only a subtle touch, and yet pleasure was already rippling across your body.

“That feels good, doesn’t it?”

Jinho’s voice was dripping with honey, and yet his fingers were cruel. He grazed your clit with his fingertip and then dragged his finger back down between your lips and teased your entrance with slight pressure, and then repeated this process.

He was not entirely giving in to you, and you were becoming so sensitive that tears of desperation were beginning to sting your eyes.

“J-Jinho .... please,” you pleaded, feeling helpless - frantic for more.

“Please, what?” He hummed in response, “Tell me what to do, sweet, and I’ll do it. Use your words.”

Despite being dazed and overwhelmed, you still managed to respond, albeit in a small voice, “I-I want your lips and your fingers.”

“Of course, sweet.”

He pressed his thumb directly to your clitoris, and you gasped, toes curling. He languidly rolled his thumb, observing you whilst cleverly allowing your pleasure to build. Your focus honed in on his touches, no longer paying attention to the noises passing through your lips.

“The more I touch you, the prettier noises you make,” Jinho commented.

Abruptly, he filled you up with his forefinger. Your breath hitched in your throat, hardly expecting him to make that leap.

You cried out when his lips sucked in your clitoris, gradually fucking you with his finger. He eased you into a swift orgasm, pressing fluttering kisses to the backs of your thighs while you trembled.

“Good girl~. One more time?”

Before you could respond, Jinho had added a second finger and was pistoning them inside of you much quicker than earlier. You were incredibly wet thanks to your orgasm, and he seemed to be using that to his advantage.

His tongue teased your swollen clit, and you sobbed, “I-I’m too sensitive!” Seemingly uncaring, Jinho dragged you into a second, far more intense orgasm that had your legs thrashing and drool spilling out onto the desk.

Your ears were ringing, but you could hear Jinho chuckling as he removed himself.

“Was that too much?” He mused, cleaning his fingers with his mouth, “Can you take any more?”

You were still an empty shell, electricity and heat clinging to your skin mingled with a sheen of sweat. His hands smoothed over your ass cheeks, a comforting action that made your heart soften. You twisted around to look at him dazedly.

Jinho was just as gorgeous as ever, though he had lost some of his neatness. The restraint around your wrist was apparently his necktie, which was missing, and he had undone his button-up shirt to reveal a sliver of his flawless chest. He combed his fingers through his hair, gleaming at you proudly.

“The look on your face tells me you want more,” he purred, rolling his hips against your backside. You mewled and rocked backwards, feeling his hard cock straining through his pants. You had never been so delirious, hungry to feel every inch of him.

“Ho~ such an insatiable girl,” Jinho unzipped his pants, sliding the tip of his cock over your slick folds. Even that simple action felt incredible.

“Oh, my God.”

Jinho filled you up, stuffing you in one lazy stroke. You were so full, your pussy throbbing delightfully around him.

“Please,” you begged, wanting nothing more than for him to fuck you, “Jinho-ah, please.” He scoffed in response before giving in to your desires.

The way he fucked you was utterly sadistic in contrast to his sweet nature. He was relentless in the way his hips slammed against yours, no longer offering you any mercy. You were defenceless to him, only able to dig your nails into your palm whilst bracing yourself.

“So tight,” he groaned, hanging his head back in bliss.

He angled his hips upwards, the head of his cock meeting a sweet spot. You started contracting around him, the pleasure in the pit of your belly peaking.

“I’m gonna-,” you managed to slur out before you came hard, so hard that stars speckled behind your clenched eyes. You practically ascended into the ceiling, losing all sense of Jinho’s thrusts and anything else around you.

Ink drowned your vision as you passed out.

-

“(F/n)?”

Your head was weighty as you lifted it, heat throbbing between your legs in response to the vivid dream you had just woken from.

Jinho was peering down at you, his hand warm on your shoulder.

“You should go home if you’re so tired,” he sighed, wearing a concerned expression. You were in shock, simply unable to process that what had just occurred had been entirely in your head. You could still feel his thickness inside you, still feel the intense climax he had given you.

“Are you okay? You look flushed,” Jinho cocked his head, the worry growing on his face. You waved your hand dismissively.

“I-I’m fine. I should go home.”

He hovered nearby as you packed away your laptop, silently observing you. You were ready to leave when he finally broke the silence.

“Let’s do that again,” Jinho suggested innocently, his smile no different from his usual one, “you’re so cute when you beg.”

[shyrose57]

1: okay consider this:

Magic Hunter/Detective Influencer Jack Manifold

He gets tasked about finding out what is going on this weird little town that has been an urban legend for generations now.

Everbody points to the clothing store. Old, generations old, maybe even older than the town itself. If not the cause then atleast a hint.

Funny thing about Jack Manifold, as a child he died in a fire, but lady death had mercy on him. She send him back, the price for such an action was bad karma/luck and baldness. Not that he would now that.

Normally it's not that bad, but right now? In a magical town blessed by death herself? His luck is atrocious.

Not enough to kill, but enough to to annoy him to death.

Jack Manifold, zombie reanimated by death herself, trying to do his job as Buzzfeed Unsolved knock off.

2: Magic is living, pulsing through our veins, In all the different ways. For Fae it's the way they control the laws of nature and deal in contracts.

Demons too deal in names but also in the darker aspects for magic. Though dark is subjective, in the end it depends on the user. Demons just tend to like chaos and have societal and cultural differences, but they're trying!

Drawfs tend to exel in the chemical aspects of Magic, alchemy if you will, combing things to get something new, far better than anything anyother species could do.

Mers are primordial, the oldest race to live and yet the youngest to interact with the world above, having been secluded in the deepseas not so long ago, maybe a few hundreds of years?

Their magic is raw and not quite definable. It's the tides and the songs they sing, it's the ocean itself, you don't fuck with the ocean, a calm wave can turn in a storm very fast afterall...

Humans? Humans are magic in every breath their breath. Humans are love and hate. The heat of the smith and the creations of tools, weapon and jewelry. The coldness of ice sculptrues that enrapture the soul and marbel under our finger tips.

Magic is also the way Tommy sews with so much passion. Tommy is human in the purest way possible. He might not have magic of his own, but the fabric he works with has and more is not needed. When fae burn themselves on anger Tommy resonates, like a chameleon and does not fight what the fabric is made from. He doesn't try to conquer the fabric like so many other he wants to guide it.

Sometime he swears while working with certain fabrics he could hear voices, so far and yet so close. Maybe that's why he got into the habit of talking to the clothes he sews, about everything and yet nothing. About what he plans of making them be, who they will belong to how much he loves these peoples

A few times he even sang, he doesn't now what, it seems to be something from his deepest instinct whispered by the word itself, primordial like mers and yet even they could not hold a candle to the clarity Tommy sings with the world.

The clothing made from those fabrics? stunning masterpieces no one could ever hope to replicate -🤡

(Literally of this is the best thing ever, seriously)

1:

I love absolutely everything about this, but mainly-

Jack, after one minute in town: Yeah. Yeah this place is definitely full of magic.

Tommy, who's lived here all of his life, and is the literal center of magical activity: Yep, this is a completely normal town.

2:

!!!!

I also love this!! Oh, that's such cool world building, seriously.

Here's the thing about humans, that so many species fail to understand. Mer may be the oldest, but humans arose from them, and they were the first creatures to touch a land raw and untamed by wild magic. Some it loved, some it hated, but all were touched.

Tommy's bloodline runs back for millenia, courting magic braved by few, and ancient beyond knowing, but still remaining completely unchanged in their nature.

Not all of the world will bend for him as his fabric does, but from the smallest blade of grass, to the deepest ocean trench, all of it will gladly listen to the way his heart beats in tandem with it's own.

[mythicamagic]

Beneath the Blackthorn Tree: a Sesskag fanfic

Summary: The man smiled then, in a way that seemed ill-fitting for such a blank, porcelain face- all white teeth and glinting eyes. It was not a smile that assured Kagome. "Well met, dear one," he uttered, voice gliding rich and velvety into her ear canal.

Something niggled in the back of Kagome's mind, blue eyes widening. "Well met." --- Or: When the Fae King is owed something, he will always collect the payment. Even if it takes centuries. Fae King Sesshoumaru fic. Sesskag AU.

---

Don't expect updates right away from this one- I just wanted to post it because I held a poll a while ago about more Monster Sesskag AU's and this concept won, so I wanna reassure people I'm working on it lol. Those who asked for it were: @missidiotmakka @saviorclaire @cookieasylum @aizawa-slaysmee @frost-guardian @liz8080 @vanishaa @akinaichan @all-my-cuffs-have-buttons @shamelessruinsfury @shastuhh @mrfeenysmustache @veroblubell @thesoaringaquila​

Read here: Ao3, fanfic.net or Dokuga

Beneath the Blackthorn Tree

 - chapter one -

"Buyo!"

Kagome huffed, lingering in the threshold of her home. Tightening a fluffy dressing gown around her, she shuddered a little from the chilly night air, closing the door behind her lest too much heat escape.

"Buyooo!" calling out again, she squinted, staring into pitch-black nothingness beyond the safety of their porch light. Silence answered her.

"Damn cat," grabbing her shoes with a string of grumbles, she roughly tugged them on and stepped outside. It was far too chilly to leave her out for the night, and besides, Buyo usually always came running the second they rattled her cat bowl.

The fifteen-year-old shuffled into murky darkness, making encouraging kitty calling noises and continuing to search for her dumb, sweet, dumpling feline.

Kagome shivered, rubbing her arms and glancing behind her. The comforting doorway of their humble house seemed much too far away, despite Kagome having not ventured too far into Higurashi Shrine's open courtyard. Everything lay far too still, quiet.

There were no insects chirping, no distant sounds from the city. It was as though someone had placed a huge dome over their house, sealing off all breezes or noise. It felt stifling; shadows hanging thick in the corners of her vision. Rippling. Expanding. Breathing.

Kagome turned her head slowly, staring into the endless void. Her heartbeat picked up. Quickening breath fanned out as visible plumes of mist. Goosebumps raised on her flesh. She gained the unsettling sense that she was being watched.

"Reow!"

Stiffening, she faced the sound's direction. "Buyo? Here kitty," she called, breathing a sigh of relief. Geeze, she'd gotten worked up for nothing. Stepping forward, Kagome wandered towards a large, lonely tree, guided by moonlight as it finally peeked out from behind thick, rolling clouds. Grandpa respectfully called it 'the sacred tree' but there was no need to heed any words from a guy who sold plastic charms and called them enchanted.

Reaching the Goshinboku, Kagome rounded its side, continuing her noises of encouragement to lure Buyo closer.

A strange luminous glow brightened the tree from within. Where before she'd thought it was moonlight lightening its branches, she stiffened upon realising how its bark radiated a soft blue shine. Power thrummed- pushing through her like a ripple on the tide.

Kagome stopped the second she caught sight of a child.

Their back was turned to her, hair short and snowy white. When they turned- startlingly clear, bright blue eyes immediately connected with hers. The boy shifted to face her, holding Buyo in his arms, who purred contentedly.

"O-oh...hello?" Kagome blinked, eyeing his clothing. What strange white robes. She got the sense he was Japanese, and yet his features were so pale and flawless. Not a hint of sunshine or blemishes touched his cherubic face- so much that he seemed eerily otherworldly. Too perfect. Human children didn't stand so completely still with calculating, predatory gazes, and was it her imagination- or were there tiny stumps peering out from his head? Like small, barely there horns.

The boy, who seemed to be around the age of six, stared at her quietly.

"Are you lost?" she asked, putting his strangeness aside. "I can call your parents to come pick you up if you know their number. If not, we should probably go inside," Kagome forced a smile. "It's chilly, right? You can keep holding Buyo if you want."

He blinked long white lashes, expression unchanging. He shifted closer.

"Kairi."

The boy stopped, glancing towards Goshinboku where a silky, deep voice had resounded from. Magenta stripes curling around the wrist of a pale hand caught Kagome's attention as it appeared from behind the tree, beckoning him with a lazy curl of sharp fingernails.

"Leave her be. That is not your mother," amusement coloured the masculine tone. "At least, not as you know her."

Kairi sighed, pouting. He let Buyo jump down- his necklace swaying from the motion, catching Kagome's eye. It had a strange symbol on it. She got the sense it did not belong to her homeland.

Kairi reached out to the hand, accepting it.

"Wait-!" she called, hurrying closer. "Hang on a second!"

Kairi glanced at her, pretty blue eyes glinting, smiling. The ghostly, long-fingered hand holding his own tugged- causing the boy to disappear behind the tree.

Quickly rounding its side, Kagome stopped. He'd disappeared, leaving not a trace behind. Even the tree's eerie glow had died down.

She sucked in a startled breath, having forgotten to breathe. Buyo padded away towards their house, leaving the high school girl to gawk alone. Sounds started to filter back into her hearing, crickets softly chirping. Humidity settled into previously chilled air, as though warmth had been briefly stolen, and then returned to the night.

Kagome never saw the boy again after that fateful night in the middle of July, nor the pale hand with its striped magenta wrist. Nothing unusual happened with their old tree. Buyo was the only one who knew about the bizarre experience, which was hardly a comfort.

And so Kagome placed it into the furthest reaches of her mind, putting it on a dusty shelf alongside her unused algebra knowledge. For ten years it remained untouched. Unexplored.

Until one day Yuka, one of her close high school friends- was flicking through a magazine. She wanted to hold her wedding in Ireland since her fiance had family there on his mother's side and a change in scenery sounded exotic.

"What do you think of this venue? We decided on holding the wedding in this area yesterday."

Kagome looked up from her wedding duties that consisted of choosing flower arrangements, stiffening.

"C-can I see that for a minute?"

"Hm, sure?" Yuka passed it over, stretching atop her bed and sighing. "You're definitely coming, right? I know it's hours away, but I'm seriously so excited to hold the ceremony somewhere unique. Eri is going to be majorly jealous."

Kagome stared at the familiar symbol carved into a dead-looking blackthorn tree, sitting alone within a forest. It was such a strange, out of place photo amongst the ones trying to sell Ireland to foreigners as part of a holiday package. All sprawling green hillsides, cliff sides and groups of medieval buildings situated on an outcrop of limestone.

"Yeah…" she murmured, an old memory slightly shaking to life. "I'll come."

[nightingaelic]

Fallout new vegas companions taking the courier's place in lonesome road (+ cut companions if that's cool with u) (thanks!!)

The problem with trying to adapt Lonesome Road to another character's experience is that so much of its story hinges on the courier's missing past and the former Frumentarius' struggle to make them understand what happened, why it caused a shockwave across multiple lives, locations and generations, and whether to avenge or let go of the harm that was unknowingly done to the Divide. So if you bring the companions into the mix instead of Courier Six, you either have a long-running story of mistaken identity (a hilarious concept, Ulysses being absolutely positive that the companion is the one who wrecked his dream home while they have no idea who this angry, verbose man is), or a drastically different history for the companions themselves. I say let's give that second option a shot, it seems fun and headcanon-y.

Arcade Gannon: While I don't think Arcade would be directly responsible for the destruction of the Divide, I think he would pale at hearing Ulysses' message searching for Enclave agents and would set out to confront the angry courier on behalf of his hidden family. The Enclave remnants are already hunted by the NCR and the Brotherhood of Steel, and the last thing they need is to be chased out of yet another home over something they didn't personally do. He'd accept ED-E's help wholeheartedly and consider turning back every time he ran into marked men or tunnelers, but his own resolve to save his loved ones would urge him to persevere. I think his determination would intrigue Ulysses, enough to engage the young research scientist in conversation if he arrived at the end of the road in one piece, and the courier might even let go of his vendetta if Arcade revealed that he was doing this out of the goodness of his heart rather than a sense of duty. Arcade would cancel the nuke launch, but would seriously consider blowing up the Legion.

Craig Boone: We know the NCR and Legion were fighting over the Divide before the ICBMs leveled the area. But what if that was by design, rather than by accident? Maybe Boone has more skeletons in his closet than just Bitter Springs, and he was part of a strike team that used old Enclave technology to surprise the Legion forces and seal off an access route, a decision based on math and made by men who had never met the people of Hopeville and Ashton that they sentenced to death. It's yet another weight on the sniper's conscience, and yet another debt he feels obligated to pay, so when Ulysses' call goes out, he answers. The usual dangers of the Divide wouldn't slow him down, but the turbulent weather would irritate him to no end. Upon arrival at the temple, Boone wouldn't mince words because he already knows he's guilty of the charge and he knows Ulysses used to walk for the Legion. If he survived the encounter, Boone would take the opportunity to rain the same destruction down on Caesar's troops.

Lily Bowen: There are about 119 years of Lily's life as a super mutant that are unaccounted-for, and we know she suffers from schizophrenia like many other nightkin. Perhaps it was Lily who discovered the Enclave package and unwittingly left it in the home of America's missiles: Perhaps it was Leo. I'm inclined to think it was Leo, who was probably searching for a cache of Stealth Boys in the old military installations across the desert, and who simply didn't care when a new hole in the earth opened up behind him. Lily, on the other hand, cares deeply, and would set out after Ulysses in the interest of making amends where she could. More so than any other companion, I think Lily would be disturbed by the tunnelers and would go out of her way to crush them wherever they popped up. The marked men would earn her sympathy and she would do her best to knock them out without killing them. After doing the same to Ulysses, Lily would cancel the launch and weep over the subsequent loss of ED-E. She would likely bring the little eyebot back to the Mojave and search for a way to fix it.

Raul Alfonso Tejada: We already know that Raul goes to extreme lengths to avenge the people he cares about, so it wouldn't be too much of a stretch to mix his backstory into the story of the Divide. Following the murder of Claudia in Tucson/Two Sun, Raul chased Dirty Dave and his brothers across Arizona and into the town of Ashton before killing them. Unbeknownst to him, Dirty Dave had a package with him that could speak to the nuclear missile silos hidden in the Divide, and the earth crumbled behind the vaquero as he made his way back home. Though he'd heard of the devastation, Raul didn't put two and two together until Ulysses sent out his summons, and because he didn't have anything planned that week, the old mechanic decided to answer the call. He would put up with Ulysses' messages like a good sport until he encountered the man in the temple, where he would refuse to fight until the two talked things out like civil people. I think Ulysses would be surprised at the revelation that the ghoul he had cast as a villain was following his own quest for vengeance and unaware of the package, and would come away somewhat amused by the situation. They would most likely team up to fight off the marked men, and Raul would cancel the launch and take a wrench to the machines to prevent any more "misunderstandings."

Rose of Sharon Cassidy: Let's say one of Cass' caravans delivered a package back in the day. Let's say that package accidentally buried the caravan crew and an entire community along with it. Let's say Cass knows, and that's one of the reasons she drinks. While Courier Six walks the Divide out of curiosity about their missing past, I think Cass would do it as a form of penance in and of itself, with a little desire for self-destruction thrown into the mix. The journey would start out as a bender fueled by self-loathing and the fanciful notion of giving her missing caravan a proper funeral, and by the time Cass runs out of whiskey she's already halfway through the Cave of the Abaddon and punching holes through the tunnelers with her shotgun. She would largely ignore Ulysses' cryptic messages and holotapes, but she'd grow fond of the little eyebot that took a shine to her and would tear after it once the mysterious courier repossessed it. Following the final battle, Cass would cancel the launch, but only at the very last second, just to revel in the fleeting feeling of control.

Veronica Santangelo: I just can't see Veronica knowingly or unknowingly waking up a nuclear arsenal with a careless application of tech, but I can totally see her stumbling upon the aftermath of something her old mentor is responsible for. Father Elijah already has a tenuous grasp on the consequences of his own actions, and we know that the prototype tech that controls the Divide's weather is a Big MT project. Maybe Elijah paid Hopeville a visit to check it out and took his investigation a little too far when he discovered the nukes. This would explain Ulysses' directions to the old man to find the Sierra Madre, sealing his doom inside the casino. But where does that leave Ulysses? Along comes Veronica, following her mentor's trail of destruction, and the courier can't help but guide her along the path, show her the meaning of the wreckage and the danger of pre-war technology when left to the discretion of those with old-world values, like the Brotherhood. Along that line, I think Ulysses would try to test her like he does Courier Six, and would schedule a launch to see what she does. Veronica would cancel the launch and resolve to never tell her brothers and sisters in Steel about the secrets of the Divide. She might dump some water on the consoles for good measure. More importantly, I think she might finally realize that the unchanging family she clings to can only die out, or go down the same path that Elijah did.

ED-E: Given that ED-E is a robot, I think Ulysses would be hell-bent on finding whoever sent the little guy rather than consider that the eyebot saw a package with Enclave markings on it, picked it up of its own accord, and deposited it wherever it next encountered old American symbols. Through its communication with the other eyebots in the Divide, I think ED-E would get the picture about the courier's quest for the responsible party and play dumb for as long as possible. The other ED-E would help conceal the mistake to save its new friend, but Ulysses isn't stupid and would eventually figure it out. But how do you effectively punish a robot? Maybe he would set the nukes to target the Divide again, to send any remaining eyebots to the scrapyard for good, but it's a long shot. If he did, ED-E would cancel the launch, but would join its override system capabilities to its counterpart's and use the combined decryption power to ensure that both eyebots make it through the ordeal unharmed.

Rex: This good boy would never even consider entering the Divide. Seriously, what dog in their right mind would go in there? What cyberdog? No thank you. Still, the idea of a dog being responsible for the nukes and Ulysses continuing to hold a grudge is beyond funny. Maybe Rex was part of a mission for the Legion when he still belonged to Caesar, part of the group that leveled the Divide on behalf of the Bull. Maybe that's why Antony says he was "lost in battle," and maybe he's the only surviving member of that squad. I don't see why Ulysses would hang around the Divide waiting for the dog to look upon the hell he'd wrought, and he would more than likely seek the canine out himself as soon as he heard about the King's new pet. From there, the story turns into Courier Six investigating an assassination attempt on a goddamned dog, and the events of Lonesome Road play out pretty much the same way they were written - plus plenty of asides about how Ulysses is going to way too much effort over a creature that can't comprehend what nukes are.

Benny Gecko: Few people know that Yes Man was actually one of two securitrons that Benny managed to incapacitate and reprogram, and while the head of the Chairmen hid his favorite in the Tops for safekeeping, he sent the other out into the world for some recon and experimentation. Imagine his surprise when Yes Man was able to remotely hack into a nuclear missile silo and wipe out a budding trade community. And who would've thought that test run was going to come back to bite him in the ass, right after he was sprung from the Legion camp? I think Benny would do everything in his power to avoid entering the Divide, but I also think Ulysses would have little patience for him and would actively force the disgraced city boy into walking the Courier's Mile by blocking any other path out of the Mojave. Benny would form an attachment to ED-E, similar to Yes Man, but would complain the whole way and confront his tormenter with little remorse. He would also nuke both the NCR and the Legion if he came away alive, probably with some snarky one-liner about "letting the chips fall where they may."

Vulpes Inculta: Vulpes already has a few scorched-earth badges on his Pioneer Scouts belt (Nipton, Camp Searchlight, etc.), so eliminating the Divide is just another tactic in the grand strategy playing out between the Bull and the Bear. All he needed to do was leave a certain package in town, and the problem basically solved itself. Unfortunately, that deserter of his wasn't buried under the wreckage, and now Caesar has ordered him to assassinate the renegade. The fool keeps announcing his whereabouts every few hours or so, making tracking an easy task, but by the third time he feels eyes on the back of his neck and turns to find nothing there, Vulpes can't help but wonder whether the student has surpassed the teacher. The final showdown of Frumentarii would be something for the ages, a clash of philosophies and loyalties with plenty of verbal sparring between the bullets. If he survived the encounter with Ulysses, Vulpes would definitely nuke the NCR.

Ulysses: This cut companion can't very well face off against himself, can he? Unless... he was the courier who accidentally brought the Enclave detonator that sealed the Divide's doom. Given the weight of this grief, I think Ulysses would similarly force himself to walk the length of the Divide, take in the utter destruction that his own actions had wrought, and reflect on the meaning of one man changing the course of history. When it came down to the final room, the final decision, our disillusioned courier would activate the launch as a way of testing himself, testing his own resolve. Like Cass, he would stare at the machines shuddering to life around him until the very last moment, before shutting the system down for good, smiling under his breathing mask and walking away forever.

Victor: The robot cowboy doesn't really know what the angry man on the eyebot keeps talking about. He certainly doesn't remember delivering a package to a place called Hopeville or Ashton. Why would he? Mr. House is very good about covering his tracks, particularly when it comes to eliminating business rivals. Really, it could have been any old securitron. Nevertheless, Victor rolls merrily along in search of the courier who summoned his master, letting his own optics passively take in the devastated wasteland left behind by bombs that launched 200 years too late. Because of his robotic nature, I think it'd be a lot easier for Ulysses to get the drop on Victor and disable him at the temple, then wait until House sent another envoy or came himself. House would probably lose interest as soon as he got his data, which I don't think would stall Ulysses much: Once he figured out the Strip's owner isn't coming, he'd find some way to get inside the Lucky 38. If, however, Victor prevailed in the final struggle, he would nuke both the NCR and the Legion on behalf of Mr. House.

[seriouslysnape]

Since you’re down with writing for him, can you do a Lucius fic where the reader stands up to ole Voldy and rips him to shreds with her words for his treatment of her love (Lucius), and takes everyone by surprise because she’s usually just an observer of things? Lucius internally freaks of course because he thinks Voldy will kill her or something, but he’s actually as stunned as everyone and even impressed that she has so much nerve and such a “talent” with her words. Then once they’re alone, Lucius dwells on about how recklace that was and how he wouldn’t know what to do with himself if anything ever happened to her, especially if he was the reason. But once she gets him calmed down, he just gushes over her for being so brave, strong, loving, and protecting of him.

Sorry if this is quite long!

Not a problem at all! Thanks for requesting! :) 

__

Words of Fire

Lucius Malfoy x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Sexual implications

Word Count: 2,117

“Nothing happened. I knew he wasn’t going to do anything.”

__

You fought the urge to let out a heavy sigh as you sat at the Death Eaters’ table. It was yet again another meeting with another round of Voldemort talking and no one else being able to get a word in. You rarely ever spoke at these meetings, only listening and soaking in every word that was said. Lucius was seated on your immediate left, refusing to look away from Lord Voldemort even for a split moment. Lucius’ hand was resting on your leg, rubbing small circles with his thumb.

Truthfully, you weren’t really sure what Voldemort was talking about. Your mind was everywhere but this current meeting. You glanced down at the strong hand that was on your thigh. You let your fingertips trace over his knuckles, feeling the cold metal of the rings on his fingers. He held back the urge to smirk at the feeling of your touching his skin. Your mind wandered to the night before, chills spreading over your body.

You had been up late the night before with Lucius, laid up together in his ridiculously massive bed and his bedroom that was bigger than your first house put together. He had been rather touchy throughout the day, so it wasn’t a shocker that he kept you up late with rough kisses and lots of lovemaking.

It was an intoxicating feeling, really. Lucius was very refined and well put together, never a stitch out of place. It wasn’t a surprise that he was experienced, and knew his way around a woman. You found yourself craving his touch, wishing for him at all moments of the day.

Your dirty thoughts were interrupted when Lucius subconsciously gripped your leg. You found your attention back to the meeting at hand. Voldemort was staring a hole through Lucius, which was never something you wanted to see.

“It seems that Lucius’ failure caused everyone at this table some form of distress.” Voldemort hissed, however his expression remained unchanged.

Lucius didn’t have much of a visible response to that. He was used to Voldemort often chiding him and tearing into him, but it didn’t make it any less humiliating. Lucius was very loyal to Lord Voldemort and the Death Eaters, but lately he had failed to come through to Voldemort’s orders.

Lucius was distracted. Suddenly, there was more to his life than wealth and following Voldemort’s power. He had his heart in another place. However, whenever he messed up, Voldemort was always the first to hear about it.

“I assure you, my Lord, that it won’t happen again.” Lucius spoke, calmly and collected.

Voldemort looked doubtful at that. His cold eyes shifting to you for a moment before flickering back. He knew something was getting in the way of Lucius’ duties, and he had a pretty good idea that it was you.

“I would surely hope not,” Voldemort went on; “You would think that a pure-blood would be much more efficient.”

You felt your blood run cold. You hated the way Voldemort spoke to Lucius. Well, you hated the way Voldemort spoke to everyone, but especially Lucius.

“What is your problem?” You sneered loudly at the sunken man.

Lucius’ gray colored eyes snapped to you. They were full of desperation and fear. As a matter of fact, every pair of eyes at the long, dark table were looking at you. You were much more of a listener than a talker, and sometimes not even that. The fact that you were speaking up now (and with such feistiness) was stunning.

“[Y/N], do not-” Lucius began to warn under his breath, but you cut him off.

“I mean, seriously! Do you have nothing better to do than to nag like a prick for an hour and a half?” You questioned with a sharpness to your tone.

Lucius’ pale face had lost even more color. He was sure he’d be mistaken for a ghost to an outsider. He was fully panicking. He knew that you knew better than to smart off to Lord Voldemort, arguably one of the most powerful wizards in the world. With a wave of a wand and a simple mutter of “avada kedavra” would finish you off right then and there.

Bellatrix was watching with a face full of entertainment. She had always liked you, and was thrilled to see you standing up for Lucius like this.

Voldemort was watching rather stoically, but if Lucius hadn’t been totally about to lose his marbles, he would’ve noticed the hint of amusement in his eyes. Lucius could feel his heart pounding away in his chest, the silence in between your pauses was thick. He was trying to calm himself down. While what you were doing was unthinkable, you hadn’t yet said something that was completely impossible to come back from. Or, at least, not yet anyway.

“And aren’t you a half-blood anyway? How do you have any say over what a pure blood is supposed to be like?” You barked.

Lucius felt like throwing up. That was the final hit. He was preparing himself for the worst possible outcome. Maybe Voldemort wouldn’t use a death spell. Perhaps Nagini would make a snack out of you. A slow, painful death that was almost worse than anything else. Lucius, as frightened as he was, looked back to Voldemort with anticipation, begging Voldemort in his head not to kill you.

Lucius was sure he was hallucinating, or maybe he had witnessed your death and was having some sort of weird vision. But everyone else’s reactions were unmistakably real.

Lord Voldemort, the darkest of all wizards, began to laugh.

It wasn’t a laugh that read oh-you-should-not-have-done-that sort of sound. It was more of a shocked, impressed sort of laugh. The rest of the table began to nervously laugh in response, but eventually fell into side cramping laughter. Even you cracked a smile, not at all afraid of what was going to happen next. If you went out defending Lucius, then so be it. Lucius was too confused to laugh, or do anything for that matter.

Voldemort’s laughs did dwindle out into chuckles in between speaking, but even then he had a hard time piecing together sentences.

“Well, I have never seen such a fire come out of you.” Voldemort said to you.

Lucius dug his nails into his leg, not really sure if that was a good reaction or not.

“Really now, [Y/N], I do wish you would speak up more often at these congregations,” He said, rather galvanized by your choice of wording; “I must say, you have quite a raw talent for threats and messages.”

You fought the urge to beam at that. You had always been told that you had a way with words. Lucius felt the nausea pass, but he was shocked silent. You were the only person on the planet who could have gotten away with what you just did. As if that wasn’t groundbreaking enough, you were also the only person to draw an apology of sorts out of the Dark Lord’s mouth.

“Perhaps, I judged you unfairly, Lucius. However, I do expect you to fulfill your assignments next time.” Voldemort chuckled, looking at Lucius.

Lucius only nodded, still too in shambles to say anything more. Lucius finished out the rest of the meeting in a daze, though he noted you seemed to have actually enjoyed the remainder of the time. Lucius had it on repeat in his head. A million wonders and what ifs flying by him like a runaway train. That could have ended much more differently, and the fact that you weren’t even phased was bugging him.

He didn’t say much, which you noted as odd. Once you were alone in the Malfoy Manor, you spoke to him gently.

“Lucius, my love, what is it?” You asked, placing your hands on his shoulders from behind.

There was a roaring, warm fire in his spacious bedroom, heating the room in a wonderful way. He was far from comfortable though.

“Oh, it’s nothing really. Surely not the fact that you fired off to the Dark Lord.” He growled, rubbing his forehead stressfully.

You had a feeling that this was about what happened at the meeting. You didn’t say anything, prompting him to go on. He stood from where he was sitting in his living area, removing himself from your touch and standing in front of you behind the sofa.

“You must be out of your mind. Do you understand how reckless that was?” He asked, grabbing the sides of your arms.

Anyone else would’ve read Lucius' expression as angry, but you knew it wasn’t that. His eyes told a different story than the rest of his face.

He was scared.

“Nothing happened. I knew he wasn’t going to do anything.” You told him, trying to comfort him.

His eyes were wide and his lower lip had a faint quiver to it. He put his cold hands to your face, almost as if he were trying to convince himself that you were really there.

“Did you know? [Y/N], do you not understand how badly that could’ve turned out if he hadn’t found it so funny?” He questioned seriously.

You shrugged, not looking away from his gaze.

“But he did.” You answered simply.

He felt like he was arguing with a wall. You had always been a tad riskier than he was. You often played your cards without looking to see what kind of hand you had. He’d put it this way: it had shaved some years off of his life more than once. He thought about the life he had led with you thus far. You had only been together a couple of years, but it had felt like a lifetime. He couldn’t imagine his days without you. Draco had grown fond of you, despite his grudges in the beginning.

If you had been hurt or killed...it would’ve left holes in more than just Lucius’ life.

“You can be so careless with yourself. I hate it,” He admitted, his voice raising a bit; “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself if you weren’t around anymore. I couldn’t live knowing you were gone on my behalf.”

You felt guilty for putting him through this. You hadn’t thought that this would affect him this way. You took his hands from your face, leading him back to the couch to sit him down.

“I’m fine, Luc. I’m right here in front of you,” You assured him; “I didn’t mean to frighten you.”

He sighed heavily. He had become rather...soft after meeting you. He felt more now. His voice was gentler now, but deeper.

“I know, I know, my darling. I just don’t ever want to see anything happen to you, especially because of me.” He confessed.

You nodded, caressing his cheek with your warm hard.

“You are, without a doubt, the bravest person I know. I don’t know of anyone who would stand up to Lord Voldemort that way.” He proclaimed.

You grinned cheekily. He went on before you could say anything else.

“Oh, I do adore you. You’ve always been so loving and protective over me,” He added; “You are one charming woman.”

A heat crept over your cheeks, you laughed bashfully.

“I also have a ‘talent’ for words apparently.” You reminded him.

Lucius cracked a smile as well.

“That you do, my dear. You are very quick that way.” He praised.

You hummed playfully, raising your brows a hair.

“And what else?” You prodded him on.

His smile turned into more of a devious smirk. He slowly inched towards you on the sofa.

“Intelligent, talented, beautiful,” He listed off, pushing you down onto the cushions of the couch, making you squirm with eagerness; “Sexy...”

He kissed you with such fervor that it almost made you dizzy. His lips were hotter than the raging fire in the fireplace, his lips leaving a trail down your stomach before he made it to your hips. Pushing the skirt of your dress up, before breathing out at the sight of there not being anything underneath.

“Someone was expecting to be rewarded, yes?” He razzed, kissing at the skin of your inner thighs; “Ask and you shall receive.”

You breathed out a whine, a hand above your head and one in his hair.

“Please, Lucius. I want your mouth on me.” You pleaded.

He usually would drag this out, making you beg for him until you were almost in tears. But he wanted to pleasure you, to hear your sounds as another reminder that you were there with him. He left a kiss on your heated sex, purring before pleasuring you mercilessly.

“Anything for you, my star.”

[chaseatinydream]

pirate king (6) || atz

“So it was the prisoner that saw the monster first, huh?”

You're standing on the quarterdeck for the second, shifting from one foot to the other uneasily. The captain eyes you suspiciously once more and like a frightened animal  you stand up a little straighter unconsciously.

“Yes, captain.” Seonghwa nods seriously. “He saved us all.”

Hongjoong then scrutinizes you once more, as if trying to come up with some explanation how the monster could be part of some bizarre plan to infiltrate the ship. Then the lookout, Yunho, steps in.

“He did, Cap'n. Even I couldn't see it.”

“Maybe you got lazy and were slacking off on duty, Yunho.” Hongjoong gives his crew member a disgruntled look, but Yunho doesn't flare up or get angry, instead just laughs in agreement.

“Of course I was. Everyone gets bored and slacks off during lookout duty.” He grins with disarming charm, before his face turns serious once more. “But I have to admit, Cap'n, even if I were paying attention, I doubt I could have spotted the creature.”

Hongjoong then turns to you, wearing the most annoyed expression he can possibly contort his face into. You swallow.

“Well, it appears that the ship and I are in your debt-”

The striking purple haired gunner, who you now know to be Wooyoung, pipes up cheerily. “He did save our lives!”

Wooyoung is a curious character. He's undeniably good looking, with hair an unnatural shade of purple and a friendly, easygoing smile. But it's the broken shackles around his wrists that catch your attention, the iron collar resting against his throat that makes you wonder so much more about him.

“Thank you for reminding me.” If looks could kill, Wooyoung would be floating face down in the Davy Jones Locker by now. Hongjoong clears his throat with a vexed cough and continues. “Like I was saying earlier, the ship and I are in your debt-”

Seonghwa nods once again. “That is to be deserving of some reward, at least.”

You see the captain's fingers reach for his swords and for a moment you worry for the cook's life.

“However, I still do not trust you.”

Behind him, San lets out a long suffering sigh and Hongjoong whips around to eyeball him with a sharp glare that goes sailing over the healer’s head before he tries to continue.

“As I was saying, I do not trust you, but-”

“We do owe a life debt to him, though.” Mingi ponders out loud and Hongjoong finally loses it.

“Everyone keep your mouths shut and stop interrupting me! I am the captain, for sod's sake, and god help me if I do not throw you lot overboard the next second I see your mouths open!”

There’s a pause.

“Sorry captain.” The five of them chorus obediently in synchronization, but you see them share tiny, amused smiles. Your eyes widen. They're pulling the captain's leg?

Hongjoong tugs his red jacket closer around him with a huff. “Honestly, does nobody on this ship respect me anymore? Has everyone on board forgotten that I am the captain? As I was saying…” He glances suspiciously around at his five crew members, as if expecting another smart remark to leave their mouths, but they keep silent with barely restrained snickers. He turns back to you. “The ship and I are in your debt. I do not trust you yet, but I am willing to give you a chance to earn it.”

Your eyes widen in surprise as you take that in. He's offering you food, a shelter, a home. You don't have to be alone anymore. You aren't a prisoner any longer. Then your mouth opens before you can run the words by your brain.

“But you hate me!”

At this, San breaks out into full blown laughter, the other three chortling under their breath. Hongjoong gives them murderous glares that go completely ignored, before sighing in resignation as they continue sniggering.

“I do not hate you. I merely mistrust you.” The captain kicks San in the leg, which only makes the healer erupt in another fit of uncontrollable giggles. “I expect hard, honest work from you. And my words still stand the same, if I discover you to be of any way related to the Royal Navy, I'm blowing your head off.”

“I thought you said you were going to gut him the last time.” Mingi comments with all seriousness and sprints away laughing when Hongjoong tosses his boot at him. Seonghwa hides his smile behind his hand politely.

You can't believe your eyes. They can actually joke and play around with their captain. You thought Hongjoong had been some kind of tyrant, savage, cold and with some kind of desire to see your head on a spike, who ruled his ship with an iron fist. The laughter you hear ringing out from his crew is so real, so genuine that you can't believe this is the same person who threatened to gut you like a pig.

“Either way, I believe the polite response would be to graciously accept.” Hongjoong huffs as Mingi waves his captain's boot teasingly from the safety of the main deck, much to the amusement of the rest of the crew. “We'll need to get you some proper clothes and some weaponry training from Jongho or Yunho, and some sort of job for you on board.”

“I could take him as an apprentice.” San suggests, and your heart swells with gratefulness as you can tell you he's trying to spare you from manual labour. “He could help Seonghwa as a cook as well.”

“Very well.” Hongjoong nods, eyes still trained on Mingi dancing around the deck with his boot. You never thought the quartermaster would have such a playful personality either. “Seonghwa, are you alright with that?”

“I follow anything you command, captain.” The cook replies honestly, and Hongjoong groans.

“I told you, call me Hongjoong.”

Seonghwa's smile remains unchanged.

“Yes, captain.”

“San and Seonghwa will tell you what to do from now on.” The captain tells you, eyes serious. “Do not disappoint me.”

For a second, your breath is taken by the intensity of his gaze and you swear you see the oceans in his eyes.

The blessing of a sea god, huh? I could almost believe it.

“Yes, captain!” You shout, springing to attention. Hongjoong look shocked at your willingness for a moment, before a minuscule smile curves on his lips. It's gone so quick you almost miss it, but it's there.

Your mouth falls open in abject shock.

Then he turns to the main deck. “Get your ass back here, Mingi!”

And the next instant, the captain is chasing down his own quartermaster, laughing like a young man, his carefree laughter drifting over on the wind.

“See?” Seonghwa steps next to you, a hand on your shoulder. “I told you that captain doesn't actually hate you.”

With that, he steps down to the main deck, heading for the galley. Wooyoung joins him, skipping down to where the gun crews are cleaning out the cannons once more.

“That went well.” San looks amused, watching his captain and quartermaster race around the deck as the crew cheer them on. “It seems as if you will be us even beyond Tortuga, then. I expect you to study hard under me.”

You look at him with wide eyes. “Were you serious about me becoming your apprentice?”

The healer gives you a dry look. “Does it look like I was joking?”

“But I'm an amnesiac!” You bluster nervously, suddenly in panic at the thought of having to learn something. “I don't remember how to be an apprentice!”

“And I've never had an apprentice either, so I suppose we're in the same boat.” San retorts calmly, his gentle hand coming to rest on your head. “Do me proud, apprentice.”

At that, you almost don't notice the tears streaming down your cheeks.

The next morning, San wakes you up bright and early to assist Seonghwa with preparing breakfast for the crew. When you ask him what he's up to, he simply shrugs and wanders off to the storage hold. He's probably counting the apples in the hold again.

The cook gives you a blinding smile when he sees you. “Here you are! I was wondering when you'd arrive. Would you help me cut the dried meat?”

Your fingers fumble with the knife, clumsy and unsteady, as if you've never held one your entire life. For all you know, you could have. But Seonghwa is infinitely patient with you, he wraps a hand around your smaller one and guides you with a gentle patience, and at the end of it all, you're sure you've improved, at the very least.”

“Now wrap each piece in this flatbread.” The cook instructs you and you follow, until someone knocks on the galley door. Seonghwa looks up in surprise.

“Come in!” He calls, and when the door swings open, you’re pretty sure you’ve died and gone to heaven.

Nobody can look that good. Nuh uh. Not possible. He looks like he was sculpted by the gods themselves, with a jawline sharper than the knife you’re holding and gentle, delicate features that remind you of nobility. There’s an air of quiet confidence to him that ensnares the senses, and you don’t even realize that you’re gaping like a dying fish until Seonghwa taps you on the shoulder.

“Are you alright?” He asks, eyeing you worriedly. You choke out a little ‘no’.

“Ah, you’re the stowaway, aren’t you?” The man smiles at you as he closes the galley door behind him, and you feel like you got slapped in the face by the fact he’s actually moving and talking and isn’t actually a statue. “I heard you broke Mingi’s nose.”

That snaps you out of your daze real quick.

“I did.” You nod, a little sheepishly. Seonghwa chuckles, passing a bread roll to the man.

“Eat up.” Then he turns to you. “This is our navigator, language expert and sailing master, Kang Yeosang. He’s very knowledgeable about all things ocean related and loves anything to do with mythical things.”

“Thank you for the introduction, hyung.” Yeosang rolls his eyes but takes a bite of his breakfast with a smile, seating himself opposite you.

You pause. This has been eluding you for quite some time, but you finally pipe up.

“Hey… I’ve been meaning to ask this for a while, but what is a hyung? I hear Mingi calling the captain that, but what does it mean?”

Seonghwa and Yeosang exchange brief looks.

“Why doesn’t our resident language expert answer that?” Seonghwa gestures to Yeosang, who sighs good naturedly, but answers anyway.

“If you are a man in the company of an older man, you should refer to them as hyung, and when your conversation partner being an older woman, then you call her noona.” Yeosang explains, taking another bite of his food. You nod thoughtfully.

“So, assuming I’m younger than both of you, I should call you Seonghwa-hyung and Yeosang-hyung?”

Yeosang applauds you. “You learn quickly, stowaway.”

A genuine smile breaks out across your face. You’ve never actually learned anything before, at least not that you remember, but it seems that you’re improving!

Yeosang gets to his feet. “Well then, I’ll be off. Hyung, can you pass me some food for captain?”

Seonghwa nods, bustling in the back as he prepares another bread roll for his captain. You look up at Yeosang for a moment as a thought occurs in your mind.

“Yeosang-hyung, how does the captain steer the ship all the time? Doesn’t he need to sleep too?”

The navigator looks at you in surprise. “Hongjoong-hyung doesn’t steer the ship all by himself. He swaps shifts with Mingi.” Seonghwa passes him a plate of bread and dried meat. “I’ll be going now. See you around, stowaway.”

You wave as he leaves, the door gently closing behind him as he ascends to the captain’s cabin.

“Captain.”

Yeosang opens the door to find his captain on his break from the wheel, a mug of tea in hand and a thick book in the other. His one eye flits across the worn pages so quickly no one would guess he had just learnt to read barely two years ago. His captain ponders on a page, bookmarks it quickly, before moving on to the next. He’s so absorbed in his work he doesn’t even notice when Yeosang shuts the door behind him.

“Captain, shouldn’t you be sleeping?”

At that, Hongjoong does jump, almost drawing his musket before he realizes it’s just Yeosang with a plate of his breakfast. He snaps the book shut so fast that dust flies from its pages, trying to act as calm as possible while discreetly shoving it under the blankets on Yeosang’s bed.

“I keep telling you, call me Hongjoong.”

“Yes captain.” It’s a long running joke between all of them, that none of them actually call him by name. He sets the plate in front of Hongjoong, silently sliding the book out from beneath the covers. His captain takes a bite.

“A Complete Sum of Names Commonly used in the East and Their Meaning.” Hongjoong chokes on his bread and makes a swipe for the book, but his navigator simply dances out of the way, flipping to one of the dog eared pages and beginning to read the names out loud.

“Dahae, meaning big ocean. It combines the characters of much (多) and ocean (海).”

“Give it back!” Hongjoong makes another grab for it, but Yeosang simply tosses the book into his other hand and continues reading smoothly.

“Myeongeun, with the character 明 myeong meaning bright, light, brilliant; clear and the character 恩 eun meaning kindness, mercy, charity.”

“Stop it!” Hongjoong manages to yank the book back into his arms, stuffing it back in the shelf. There's a knowing smile on Yeosang's face that he doesn't quite like the look of. “And wipe that grin off your face. I was just doing a little light reading.”

“Of course, captain. You were reading about names. It’s an interesting, broad topic. I should start reading about it as well.” His navigator replies with a polite cough and a smile.

Hongjoong eyes one of his oldest friends suspiciously. He can't tell whether he's making fun of him or actually being serious. “Anyway, I need to discuss something with you. Do you know what was chasing us today?”

At his captain's words, Yeosang's smile slides off his face, only to be replaced by an uncharacteristic scowl. “I'm not sure, captain. It was dark and didn't surface above the water so I didn't get to see how it looked like clearly. But from its size and the way it moved…”

“It swam like some sort of squid… or octopus.” Hongjoong recalls, brows pinching together as he tries to associate its characteristics with any sea creature he knows. “Can't be the mermaids, and it's too big to be a shark or octopus…”

Yeosang crosses the room to pull out a book from a shelf, its pages tattered and yellowed with time. It's a thick tome, but Yeosang simply flips to a single page, as if he's known what he was looking for the whole time.

Then he slams the book down on the table.

“Here.”

Hongjoong's fingers reach for the book, eye flitting over the page. It's a crudely hand drawn rendition of a monstrous beast, some sort of cross between a squid and octopus, powerful suckers and deadly spikes along the length of its twelve tentacles. It's two eyes are huge, and according to the small ship drawn next to it for comparison, it's at least three times the size of the Treasure. Each tentacle could wrap around his ship with ease.

“And then I saw it, the gigantic beast thought to be legend.” Hongjoong reads aloud grimly. “Its head towered above the crow's nest of the ship, and each of its tentacles stretching over two hundred feet. I looked up, it was so large in size that it blocked out the sun, and saw two eyes the colour of blood, each twice of me and then some. It raised a tentacle, and in one sweep destroyed all three masts, smashing them to nothing more than matchwood.

The Gallic slave aboard the ship declared aloud, ‘Praise to Sǣr, the sea and storm.” In the next second, he was thrown into the sea and was never to be seen again.

It is the loyal servant of the sea goddess, the one who breathes the oceans. It travels the deep, carrying out her bidding. The men call it the hafgufa, or in our native tongue…

… the Kraken.”

[ga-yuu]

~Kurama~Main Story Chapter 13~

Warning! Sexual content below!

Chapter 12

*

*

*

---------Part 1---------

Kurama: “I must have been mistaken in thinking you were in any way interesting.”

(Even though he didn’t use Kotodama.)

(I can’t move.)

No matter how close I feel to him, I’m sure I’ll never get used to the intimidation that Kurama gives off.

I knew it in my bones.

Kurama: “Understanding is an emotion that does not contribute strength. Will you still be able to think like that when you’re overtaken?”

Yoshino: "Wait..."

He's still intimidating, but he also smells dangerous, like an aphrodisiac.

With his voice and his eyes dominating the air, Kurama casually exposes my breasts.

Kurama: "Are you scared now?"

Kurama sneers while watching me tear up in fear and shame.

Yoshino: "....not...scared...."

Kurama: "Really."

My voice was trembling, and I'm sure he can see through me.

As if to prove the point, the red of Kurama's eyes darkened like a beast's ready to catch its prey.

Yoshino: "Mmmm....ahhh....."

A moment later, his lips pressed against my bare breast.

He then pulls away, leaving behind a faint pain and an even sweeter aftertaste.

Yoshino: "Ahh...Haa..."

My eyes watered with shame as I let out a lustful moan.

Kurama: "Reward and punishment are the same to you, isn't it?"

Yoshino: "....This is terrible."

I felt like crawled up the cliff to get as close to Kurama, but then he in turn pushed me back down.

Kurama: "Don't forget this humiliation. I've given you the freedom to speak your mind and listened to your wishes, but you aren’t allowed to enter my heart."

(Mm...)

I wriggled as he traced the skin where he had kissed me earlier.

I saw a red mark glowing right where he sucked and I bit my lips in embarrassment.

Kurama: "This face suits you much better."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

1. Don't say any more....(+4/+4)

2. Don't do this to me again...

3. I'll shout next time...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Yoshino: "Don't say any more...."

Kurama: "It would be easier if you'd accept the facts, but if that happens, I won't be rewarding myself with this lovely face of you."

Finally, after stroking my hair, Kurama steps back.

Yoshino: "...! Wait!"

He walks out of my room, without looking back.

(What should I do now?)

................

Kurama: "Benkei, give that sake."

Benkei: "Huh? That makes it the third bottle."

Benkei, who was apparently cooking dinner, looked at Kurama with a scowl as he barged in.

Benkei: "All sake that Sueharu bought for us is now in your stomach."

---------Part 2--------

Benkei: "All sake that Sueharu bought for us is now in your stomach."

Kurama: "I want more. Don't you have any spares? Hurry up. Also makes snacks for me."

Benkei: "Make your own snacks. I’m not your maid. Also, these are Yoshitsune-sama's midnight snacks. Don't steal from these."

Kurama: "Whatever belongs to Yoshitsune, belongs to me too."

Benkei: "Does that logic applies to every single thing? ....Fine, I'll take it with a grain of salt."

Even as he says this, Benkei big hands were moving quickly, sorting out Kurama's portion and also simultaneously making dinner at the same time.

Kurama leaned against the wall, looking sideways at him.

Benkei: ".......? Kurama, what happened?"

Kurama: "What do you mean 'what'? Don't ask vague questions?"

Benkei: "You're not acting like yourself. You look like you're on the edge. Hmmm....perhaps the negotiations with the silversmith didn't go well?"

Kurama: "No, that went well."

Benkei: "Really? That's good. ..................Is it about Yoshino?"

Kurama: "Why does that woman's name keep coming up?"

Benkei: "As expected."

Kurama stares at Benkei, who was chopping the vegetables.

Kurama: "..................Now I get it."

Benkei: "Huh? What?"

Benkei, who was slicing the radishes into chunks, stopped and looked back at Kurama.

Kurama: "That woman is my-----"

Benkei: "......"

Kurama: "My natural enemy."

Benkei: "Are you seriously that clueless!?!?"

Benkei slammed the knife against the chopping board as if he has given up.

.......................

(It's been few days since that night and things have gotten kind of awkward with Kurama.)

While I was watching the small pond in the garden under the sunset...

Yoshino: "Kurama no longer comes to my room or calls me...."

I was hurt and angry that day because I was humiliated.

(But it would be very uncomfortable for me to go to him myself.)

(But if I think calmly, I am a prisoner of the Rebels and it makes sense that I should be keeping my distance.)

(But.....)

Just when my thoughts were going in circles-----

Yoshino: "!!!"

Suddenly black thing comes down from the sky and lands right in front of me.

Kurama: "----Found you!"

----------Part 3--------

Kurama: "----Found you!"

Yoshino: "Kurama!? What's wrong?"

There is a smoldering impatience behind those always cold eyes.

I knew intuitively that something was wrong, and my heart beats fast.

(----What happened?)

Kurama: "Come with me."

Yoshino: "Huh?"

Kurama pulls my hand without giving me an answer and I fell into his chest.

Kurama: "I need you."

...................

(M-m-myyy....head....sp-spinning....!)

(I was also forced to carry my medicine box.)

Yoshino: "Umm...why are we in front of Heikichiro-san's house....?"

Kurama: "Go inside."

When he pushed me, I entered the small hut and-----

Yoshino: "....! Heikichiro-san!?"

Heikichiro: "Nnn....."

I ran up to the slender old man, who was slumped on the floor.

Yoshino: "Please stay strong! Can you hear me?"

Heikichiro: "It's you...."

(His pulse is there. He's a bit dazed, but still responding to my calls....)

Kurama: "When I visited, this man was already lying on the floor."

His expression remained almost unchanged, but an unseen frustration burned in Kurama's eyes.

Kurama: "----You're a pharmacist, right?"

Yoshino: "I-I am."

Kurama: "This man has yet to complete my order. Make sure he lives long enough. If you can't make him, I'll put out the fire off your life."

(......! Under such heavy pressure I have to treat this man?)

The murderous glint in his eyes made me gulp.

(But then again...)

Yoshino: "....First of all, you have to know something."

I replied back, while I untied Heikichiro-san's obi.

Kurama: "What?"

Yoshino: "I can't guarantee a person's life. But I promise I'll do my best. Also Kurama, please help me. Let's work on this together."

Kurama: ".....!"

(Ah......)

Suddenly the air around Kurama became lighter and the tension that had stung my skin was released.

Kurama: "Say what do you want me to do."

Yoshino: "Now, can you build a fire and make some lukewarm water? Also, can you find me a clean towel?

Kurama: "All right."

--------Part 4-------

Yoshino: "Can you find me a clean towel?

Kurama: "All right."

Immediately after nodding, Kurama takes the tub and heads out to the well.

Heikichiro: *Coughs*

Yoshino: “If you feel nauseous, don’t hold back, just throw up....”

I changed his posture and rubbed his back.

Yoshino: “I’ll make the hot water right away, and then we’ll examine your symptoms.”

As I took care of him, I checked for the numbness in his limbs, blurred vision and nausea.

Heikichiro-san’s consciousness slowly becomes clearer.

Yoshino: “Thank god! Looks like now you’re feeling better.”

Kurama: “Did you cure him?”

Kurama, who had finished helping and was watching the treatment intently beside me, leaned forward.

Yoshino: “What happened was that  Heikichiro-san’s pre-existing condition got worse due to overwork. It’s not that easy, we have to let him rest over a period of days for him to fully recover.”

Kurama: “.......What a fragile creature.”

Heikichiro: “Wait...you have...”

Heikichiro-san blinked few times and then stared at Kurama.

Heikichiro: “....you have wings....”

(Damn!! I was completely absorbed in treating the old man that I forgot Kurama didn’t hide his wings...)

Heikichiro: “Are you a demon? Are here to take my soul?”

Kurama: “Who wants a soul of a shriveled old man like you?”

Yoshino: “Kurama, No!”

I tried to stop him, while Kurama replied with an annoyed expression. But----

Kurama(glares): “And how dare you overworked? Don’t you fragile creatures know your place?”

Kurama started scolding Heikichiro-san if he couldn’t contain his frustration.

Heikichiro: “I...got strangely overpowered when you said you were looking forward for my work.”

Kurama: “......?”

Heikichiro: “He comes by everyday to see the progress of my work and observe what I do.”

(That’s why  Heikichiro-san overworked!?)

Heikichiro: “I am an eccentric craftsman. But the fact that you, in all your arrogance, are so eagerly awaiting my work...makes me irresistible happy. I was happy seeing his red eyes sparkling when he looked at my fingertips.”

(I think I understand what Heikichiro-san is trying to say.)

(Kurama’s words and attitude have nothing impure in them, and that’s why it strikes people’s hearts.)

(Even if you instinctively perceive them to be frightening.)

Heikichiro: “God or demon, it doesn’t matter. For me it’s all about the pride and joy of being a craftsman.”

Kurama: “...........Crazy old man.”

Kurama raises an eyebrows at Heikichiro-san, who breaks off into a few tired words.

Kurama: “If you die, I’ll kill you.”

--------Part 5--------

Kurama: “If you die, I’ll kill you.”

(Kurama...)

(I’ve never seen Kurama looks so confused before.)

Heikichiro: “Haha,,I can’t die that soon. I have to build up quickly. Also, Yoshino-san. Thank you for saving this old man’s life.”

Yoshino: “Thanks to Kurama for bringing me here.”

Kurama(clueless): “............”

Heikichiro-san and I smiled at each other, while Kurama looked at us with a complicated expression.

...............

(It’s already night.)

Kurama: “I think it’s easier to fly back home.”

Yoshino: “It’s not like I’m in a hurry. Also I feel fine walking. I also think it would be a problem if someone notice us.”

Kurama: “How annoying.”

(Maybe it’s Kurama’s way of conceding that he’s still walking.)

Yoshino: “I’m really glad that Heikichiro-san is okay. Thank you for bringing me here, Kurama.”

Kurama: “..........”

(What’s wrong?)

Yoshino: “Anyways, I’m also thinking of asking Yoshitsune-sama if I can continue to make house calls for Heikichiro-san. If he refuses, I’ll tell another pharmacist to check on his condition. So...”

Kurama: “----I see.”

Yoshino: “Is there anything else you want me to do?”

Kurama: “No, it’s enough. It’s just...the reason why that man fell, is still a mystery to me.”

Kurama who spit out the words quietly stares at me.

I gasped at the burning heat in his eyes.

Kurama: “I don’t understand....humans at all.”

Yoshino: “What? But Kurama always visits him, right? You were worried about him and that’s the reason, why you brought me here, right?”

(Kurama placed more value on  Heikichiro-san’s life than the unfinshed product. That’s why he brought me here, right?)

Kurama: “I can’t understand warm feelings such as worrying. However, that man’s hand are the hands that create brilliance. It would be a shame to lose them......and today, your hands saved that man.”

Yoshino: “Eh?”

The line of sight that didn’t show contempt or ridicule shoots right through my heart.

Kurama: “Yoshino. I’m reassessing your value. Apparently, you have a strength that I don’t know about.”

(Ah....)

Kurama’s warm fingertips, touches my cheeks, and I slowly slide my face into his palm.

Kurama: “....I’m proud of you.”

Chapter 14

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Not by the Moon | 04

Genre: Smut, Romance, Strangers to Lovers, Drama, Tragedy, Werewolf AU, Supernatural AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: Bookshop keeper!/Werewolf!JB x Reader

Warnings: A sprinkle of jealous werewolf!Jaebeom and poor yet adorable attempts at coming across as human.

Summary: Every story has a purpose or goal it is dedicated to, their authors at times going to great lengths to see the project they once started to completion. Nevertheless, the things the writers swore on to see their latest art piece to completion are static.

Unchanging.

None of them swore by the Moon nor Love because they can solely genuinely swear on all that changes like themselves.

And yet, a wolf in love foolishly swore by the moon.

That is when Time truly started ticking.

Author’s Note: This chapter is from Y/N’s POV.

Previous Chapter / Next chapter

Masterlist

There are a lot of extraordinary people in the world, but you often don’t find them remarkable until you happen to stumble upon  and talk to them. The wolfish man holding tightly onto my hand, his arm draped across my shoulders, as we swagger over the pavement to his home above Paper Souls is such a curious person.

The good hour he dozed off hasn’t helped his sickly state. Even though he was nestled comfortably against me, occasionally a pained delirious whine fell from his panting lips as his features turned into a grimace. Upon waking, Jaebeom tried to dismiss his symptoms as nothing to worry about, but I insisted on getting him home as soon as possible.

“I’m sorry I ruined our outing,” he murmurs, voice strained. As we ascend the stairs to his apartment, he keeps his head bent low to focus on his steps.

Step by step. One foot before the other. There you go.

“It’s not your fault you got sick,” I reply, keeping a close eye on his movements to offer additional support if needed.

He turns his head to me, a few long black locks partially concealing the sweat on his brow. For a moment, it seems as if he wants to protest yet decides against it. Henceforth, what I get in reply is a hum resigning in the notion it’s indeed not his fault.

Is your condition causing this?

The question burns hot on the tongue, but I swallow it down. Hopefully, we’ll get to talk about it properly sometime in the future. 

The day we know each other.

We make it to the top, albeit not effortlessly since I have to steady him when he almost trips on the last step. Panic and instinct rush through me when Jaebeom threatens to topple over, so I act quickly and shoulder more of his weight after clumsily steadying us both on the narrow staircase. 

“Are you going to be alright?” I ask, out of breath. The adrenaline of the potential danger has spent whatever energy I had, the muscles in my limbs melted.

“I will be,” he weakly answers. 

I gently let his arm glide from my shoulders, the removal of the weight simultaneously a relief and a missed presence. The attempt at letting him stand on his own feet is successful, although his hand shakes as he unlocks the front door.

The feverish fingers glide from the doorknob to entwine with mine once more before his tongue runs over my lips again. Despite this being the third time it happens, it still doesn’t fail to bewilder me nor bring a boyish smirk to his face when I look at him, speechless.

“Thanks. Today nice. I-,” he starts up and averts his gaze to the side, a rosy flush on his cheeks, “I mean, today was nice.”

I put my hand on the side of his face, gently compelling him to look at me. A cheeky idea rises in my mind, tempting me to go against my very nature.

Which I do.

Standing on the tips of my toes, I close my eyes and give him a peck on the cheek. The action surprises us both because he looks utterly gobsmacked when I have gathered very piece and sliver of the courage needed to look up at him.

However, before I can utter a word, a hesitating hand reaches out to carefully brush against my cheek, the touch as light as the fall of a feather on porcelain. The gentleness of the contact forms a funny contrast to the roughness when he firmly presses his lips on mine the second after.

Musk mingled with the musty perfume of books, warmth of spices and bitter coffee with a hint of fresh cologne fills my nose and overtakes the senses. My brain short-circuits, filled with a strange primal instinct no one has ever awakened before. Notwithstanding, something in the way our bodies harmonize in the small yet passionate contact triggers it, leaving me wanting more.

Skin on skin.

Just us.

But it’s too early and we barely know each other. This isn’t right. Not now, at least.

Hence is why I pull away, taking a step back with the imprint of his moustache ticklish on my lips. 

A whimper like an abandoned puppy erupts from his throat as he chases after my mouth. Nevertheless, when I take a step back to avoid further contact, he gives up and lowers his head. However, as rapidly as disappointment had overtaken him, he rights himself and clears his throat. When he speaks up, the words come out in a mumbled mess. “I- I’m sorry. That was too direct.”

“No, it’s fine,” I reassure him, vaguely gesturing with one hand while I rub the back of my neck with the other. “I- I liked it, but let’s not- Do you... really see me that way?”

“In what way?” he asks, blinking as he gives me a blank look. But, the meaning dawns on him after a moment in which I badly try to articulate what I mean. 

He grabs my right wrist, the one he bit, and holds it up for me to see. The broken skin has already healed a bit, but it’s still sensitive and throbbing, especially now that JB puts pressure on it. “I didn’t do this out of some de- del- confused?”

“Delirious?” I help him, wondering what point he is about to try and convince me of. 

“Delirious! I didn’t do this out of a delirious frenzy. This means something to me. Something important. To me, this is us.” JB takes in a deep breath to steady himself, his voice strained as he seems to hold something in. “What I want for us. And I want others to know this because you’re my territory.”

“I’m just a friend.”

And scared of losing you to Love.

“You are, but you’re also more to me. I know you said you want to take things slow and I agree with that.’’ His expression softens, dark eyes filled with tender affection. ‘’However, I want you to know how I really feel about you.”

“I don’t want to risk our friendship.”

“Me too. Yet,” he closes the distance and cups my face, his thumbs lovingly brushing my cheeks, “you deserve to know my intentions. Know I want to take the risk when you’re ready to do so too.”

“Thank you.” I run my hands over his arms, his body heat warming my palms through the fabric of the sleeves. It’s a pleasant thought, knowing he is there to catch me should my knees give out. Which is likely to happen as the leftover tension from our trip upstairs fades and affection fills the heart. 

“For what?”

“Waiting.”

Until I figure out when it’s the right time.

He nips at the tip of my nose, his tongue cheeky in its feather light touch. “I always will. Do you have any plans tomorrow?”

“I’m going out for tea with a friend.” The delight in his expression sours as it did in the park, the confident playfulness replaced by a vicious brooding. The autumn chill cools my face, the warmth and safety of his hands fallen away. 

Turned to stone by the suppressed vehemence, I stumble over my words as I swiftly explain myself. “She is an old friend I met at university. We go out for tea or coffee often, especially before I have to go on a trip.”

“Ah, I see.” He hangs his head in remorse, but perks up immediately as if remembering something. “I got you something. Wait here.”

He rushes inside, coming back soon after with two books in his hands which he holds out to me. A collection of Keats’s poems and Songs of Innocence and Experience by William Blake.

The books I read when we met.

“For you,” JB happily announces, the bright proud ring in his voice distorting it to sound like a bark. “So you have something to read when you’re away.”

 “Thank you so much. That’s so sweet of you.” I accept the gift, showing my gratitude in the brush over his fingers as I take the books from his hands. “I should get you something in return.”

“Just send me a reminder to take my medication every day.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear. “That’s all I want.”

I nod. “I can do that.”

“And a text you arrived home safely.”

“Of course.”

“And let me pick you up from the airport when you come back.”

“My, do you have any other demands?”

Lips pursed as if seriously considering the rhetorical remark, Jaebeom tilts his head to the side. “Well, eating together again would be nice. Maybe we can go around town and try out various cafés and go bookshop hopping? I could also cook for you at least once a week, though I’ll have to ask Jinyoung to teach me.”

Oh my God, he really is serious.

Before he continues adding to the evidently growing list, I cut him off. “Okay, okay, I hear you. One thing at a time, alright?”

“Right,” he chuckles, “one thing at a time.”

“I’m gonna go.” With a heavy heart full of reluctance, I initiate our goodbyes. “Go to bed and get some rest before your fever worsens. I’ll text you tomorrow.”

“Can I have one more kiss?”

“Of course.”

I stand on the tip of my toes and tenderly press my lips against his. “Goodnight, Jaebeom.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

I ascend the stairs, but do not head home immediately. Instead, I remain where I stand and turn around to wave at the wolfish man gazing down at me.

One more moment with him.

Before I set off on the homebound journey in the next.

Above, the moon is waning.

Yesterday evening, Morgan sent pictures of the place she has chosen for our next tea adventure, lyrical about the interior. Since the moment we met, in our first year of studying journalism at the local university, we have been visiting coffee shops and tea rooms around the country and occasionally written an article about them for the university’s blog. Our adventures always begin the same, never having changed in the six years we have known each other.

A picture.

And a rant about aesthetics, reviews, and the potential of having discovered a hidden gem.

The latter might be the case of Moon Bunny Coffee and Tea, a tea room inspired by the French countryside. The far wall is made of bare brick, which forms a strangely yet nice contrast to the white wooden furniture and neatly set tables. From the speakers in the corners of the establishment, instrumental pieces and French songs alternate each other to enhance the atmosphere that makes one feel as if they are truly in France. And if the interior does nothing for the imagination, the pastries and beverage names noted in French on the menu will do the trick. 

It’s only recently opened and is run by a young couple. Élise, the owner, has opened this establishment after working in various patisseries in Paris during her teenage years. However, she has now settled here with who I actually presume rather than know is her partner. According to the context Morgan sent, the tall guy with pale blond hair, oval narrow face and a leather necklace with a strange bauble - that seems to change colour - hanging from it is called Mark. The level of familiarity between the two as they work makes it easy to assume there is more than friendship, hence the suspected relation between the two.

“So, have you seen him again?” Morgan takes a sip of her cinnamon and apple tea, a smirk on her cherry red lips.

I told her about Jaebeom and the strange first encounter with him. Regardless of the weird amiability that grew between us as the hours passed in each other’s company, I could not help but remain wary. After all, the bookseller has a particular reputation thanks to the rumours created by the local gossip mill. In hindsight, it’s idiotic I used those groundless stories in my analysis or, rather, overanalysis of the kindness he showed me. Yet, I did, though they sound as absurd as they did before now that I know him better.

Notwithstanding, whereas I was losing my sanity anxious bit by anxious bit as I told her about it over the phone, Morgan’s enthusiasm grew at the same rate. Each argument in favour of the concern about my strangeness or far-fetched theory he was merely polite, she countered with a more realistic view on the situation. In the end, it’s also her input which led to me dropping by Paper Souls on the way to work and back on a daily basis.

And I’m glad she’s part of the reason I did because I might otherwise have given up after the third day of seeing the bookshelves cast in shadows. 

“I have,” I admit, unable to suppress a smile at the memory of our outing to the park.

And what came after.

The memory of the chafing of his moustache triggers a phantom of the loving warmth of his lips on mine. Cheeks heat up, remembering the roughness of his sturdy hands. A sharp sting followed by a throbbing treks through my wrist again, the half-healed wound suffering from a pleasant phantom pain.  

“Judging by that grin of yours, you’re not telling me everything.” Morgan cuts her scone in half and smears some of the homemade strawberry jam it comes with on one half, followed by a dollop of clotted cream. 

I nibble on the rice cake filled with red bean paste. Maybe it’s not a perfect partner to the tea I chose although it makes for a delicious combination regardless. The taste of red beans is an acquired one, but the subtle sweetness evens out the bitterness of the beverage. “We went on somewhat of a date.”

“Somewhat?”

“It kind of just happened.” The whiskey tea I ordered is stronger than I thought, howbeit not in an unpleasant way. Like the real drink, it goes down smoothly and warms the body from within. “He offered to go out for lunch in the park and I agreed. It was nice. Really nice.”

Especially his body heat, the safety of his presence. How protected I felt despite not knowing him all that well.

“And?”

“And?” I repeat like a parrot. I know what she’s unconsciously aiming at, but that doesn’t necessarily mean I’ll tell her outright. It’s always fun to tease the raven-haired woman a little. 

“Details, lass!” 

“We kissed,” I say, the confession hardly louder than a whisper. ‘’And I was the one to initiate it.’’

“How scandalous.” In fake shock, she clasps her hand over her mouth. “You’re a bold one, Y/N.”

“Oh, stop it.” I take a sip of tea and point at the other half of her scone. “Clotted cream with jam instead of the other way around now?”

As a fierce defender of both sides of the old discussion, Morgan indeed now smears the fluffy white cream on the other half first before she tops it off with the jam. “You really like him, don’t you?”

“I do, but I’m not sure if there’s a future for us.” I lean back, cross my arms and look out the window. 

A little distance away, there’s a metal bench and somehow an image of myself sits on it, alone. No wonder she looks glum because she is the me of the future, a woman who’s heart was devoted to the type of love that is, like humans, a plaything of Time.  

She tilts her head to the side, brow furrowed. “How do you mean?”

“It’s not my place to say this, but,’’ I turn back to her, absent-mindedly rubbing the mark on my wrist, ‘’he told me he has this condition that’s kinda like dementia, but he gave off the impression it’s also not. I don’t know what’s going on, only that there’s a deadline. A cruel one, and while I know avoiding it is futile, I’m not ready to face it nor will I ever be.”

The confusion on her face lightens to understanding concern. However, despite her features softening, there remains a hint of brooding in her attitude. “I see. It’s like that,” she murmurs cryptically as she takes a bite of her scone, more to herself than as a reply to me. “The story is repeating itself.”

“Morgan,” the mention of her name makes the raven-haired woman snap out of her reverie, “what do you mean?”

Instead of providing a proper answer, she dismisses the questions with a vague gesture. “Just the murmurs of an old soul.”

There is inherent beauty in the medieval cities of Europe that leaves one in awe wherever they go. Furthermore, the shops specialized in local goods and hidden gems add to the flair of narrow streets enclosed by tall buildings that breathe history. Nevertheless, regardless of the ancient beauty, there is nothing which can compete with a warm bed at the end of a day full of running from one end of the town to the other in search of the best chocolatiers.

Well, there is one thing.

As I’m putting on my pyjamas, my phone gives off a light buzz, indicating a new message. 

Jaebeom: Can we video call? I miss your face. 

You... You miss seeing me?

In spite of the unease of not having makeup on, I oblige and call him first. It has not even gone over once before messy black locks show up on screen. However, before he can have a good look at me, I quickly slink beneath the blanket.

“What’re you doing?” He, too, is in bed howbeit without any insecurity whatsoever. In fact, he is more than comfortable wearing not even a top regardless of the chilly weather, leaving defined collarbones and defined chest muscles on display. 

“I’m not wearing makeup, so I look horrible.”

And you showing up like this doesn’t help either.

Because the bare skin, little as it is, unleashes a storm of butterflies in the stomach. The temperature in the room rises or maybe it is simply my body reacting to the aching to run my fingertips over his definitions, the features that unintentionally unleash an absurd frenzy holding the middle between unashamed love and lust. The cheeks heat up as the need for the thick comforter decreases yet the growing discomfort is not enough to come out of hiding. 

“I’m sure you don’t.” Either intentionally or not, he puts on irresistible puppy eyes. The well-meant tenderness in his voice also stirs something in me, charmed by the kindness. “Please don’t hide. I want to see you.”

Although reluctant, I lower the sheets. 

Only to want to pull them over my head at his words and the stupidly bright smile accompanying them. “You’re even prettier like this.”

“Shut up, you weird wolf,” I grumble, jaw clenched as I strain myself not to hide again. To distract us both, I change the topic. “Did you take your meds?”

“I did! And I mean it. No, no, no! Get out from under there. Y/N, come on. I’m not lying. You are pretty. And caring and nice and-’’

“You’re handsome.” I glare at him, peeking just over the edge of the sheet. Unfortunately, my revenge isn’t successful since it merely yields a low chuckle.

Though it seems the victory is still mine because he bites on his bottom lip and softens his voice further to a timid whisper. “Even with my new look?” 

He shows off the mess of his shorter black locks, which are shaved on the side and longer on top. It’s a shame to see the long hair go because I personally think it suits him better, but he pulls the cooler style off too.

“Even more so because of it.” Although they’re essentially minor changes, it casts Jaebeom in a whole other light. He’s still a wolfish man, and I doubt I’ll ever see him as something else, but the new look gives him a more human allure. As if he’s tuned in better to life in the city instead of wandering the rough landscape in his mind. 

“I’ll tell Jinyoung he did a good job, then.” He gets up on his elbow, a view of the upper part of his chest filling the small screen. The veins in his hand form mellow ridges on the back of it, highlighting a few patches where the skin has scraped off, as he fluffs his pillow before lying down again and snuggling into it to get comfortable. “How’s Bruges?”

“It’s a really pretty city. I think you’d like it.” A wistful smile forms on my lips, in part dazed by the entrancing sight a moment ago. “I wish you were here. Wish we could get lost forever... together! I mean, get lost together. Here. In the city.”

“Are you getting sleepy?” His features soften into a dreamy expression though a cheeky spark illuminates the night sky in his eyes. 

“No,” I fiercely protest. That is, until an involuntary yawn escapes me, which makes it impossible to hide the fatigue of running about town the entire day anymore. “Maybe.”

“Go to sleep, Y/N.”

“Don’t want to. We’ve only been talking for a few minutes.” I conceal another yawn by pulling up the comforter.

“You likely have another busy day ahead. So go hit the hay and I’ll talk to you in my dream.”

“Who says I won’t do the same?’’ I remark smugly, proud of the comment that pops up and is too tempting not to make. ‘’Wouldn’t that make it our dream?”

“We’ll talk in our dream,” he corrects himself, a content hum following the correction. Notwithstanding, the delight darkens into a stern seriousness as he tries to look over my shoulder to scan the room, to inspect every nook and cranny instead of what’s on display in the background. “By the way, what’s your colleague doing? Are you alone?”

I roll my eyes and sigh. “He has his own room because he tends to want more of the local taste, if you know what I mean.”

“I don’t.” A deeply puzzled expression forms on his face, clearing the spine-chilling suspicion. “Is that code for something?”

“An affair, JB. My colleague more often than not enjoys a one-night stand, if not more, with local girls. It depends on how long we’re away.”

“Have you ever done that?” It has to be the exhaustion, but the question strangely sounds like a whine.  

“Never. In fact, you...” I bite my lip as my stomach ties itself into a nauseating knot, chest constricted with bleak worry about what he will say about the confession balancing precariously on the tip of the tongue. However, I swallow hard and continue the unfinished sentence. “You’re the first guy I’ve dated.”

“We’re dating?”

“Are we?” His question makes me wonder if we actually are, if I didn’t jump to a fantastical conclusion. Then again, we kissed, went out together, and drank coffee in his shop. Nevertheless, also judging by the curiosity in his response, I doubt it’s right for me to assume it’s true. “Well, maybe we aren’t. After all, we’ve only been to the park, so I suppose-’’

I’m wrong, because we barely know each other and yet. Yet, I kissed him. And he kissed me back. Is that anything to go by, a valid reason?

“We’re dating!” The sudden outburst catches me as much off-guard as the enthusiastic addition or, rather, plan for when I return. “I’ll cook for you after bringing you home. Afterwards, we can just sit on the couch and read. You can also nap on me to cure your jet lag. Does that count as a date?”

“I don’t know if it does according to the official terms, but,” the fatigue ebbs away, replaced by the giddiness of going home as soon as possible, “it does to me.”

“Two dates,” he murmurs thoughtfully, nodding as if confirming an unspoken notion. “We’re dating.”

Weirdo.

I watch him analyze the situation, overcome with affection. When he bites down on his index finger to suppress a broad grin, I almost have to do the same. 

“I wish I was there with you,” Jaebeom eventually notes to break the twilight hush, at last content on where we stand. The yearning of the wish is tangible in my bones because I feel the same way, though I try not to show it. “I should’ve given you a shirt or something, but I wasn’t sure if it would be good. That’s not the word. Ap... ap... appropropiate? Appropriate. If it would be that.”

“I do have the books you gave me, so I do have a piece of you here.”

But I do miss your scent. Wait, that’s weird to say. I shouldn’t say that.

Though it’s indeed strange and I don’t tell him, it isn’t a lie. Jaebeom does smell nice, like a wild forest in which the air is scented by a cologne that barely conceals its secret. The ferocious guardian in the shadows. 

 “Still, I wish I had given you something that marks you as mine.” Gaze downcast, the big wolf man pouts at the thought, sulking. 

“You have.” I hold up my wrist, the place where he bit me now nothing but a red blotch.

“It’s almost gone. I should renew that once you’re back. A shirt and bite. That should show other males we’re together,” he muses, the disappointment gone in an instant as his focus changes.

“Totally not possessive, are we?”

“I’m not,” he grumbles. “Just marking my territory.”

“JB, you are.”

“Does it bother you, make you upset?”

“Yes and no.” I take in a shaky breath, distracted by the thought of the implications I want him to be. After all, something about the feral allure melts any resistance and lets me slip into a headspace I didn’t know I had. 

Somewhere, deeply hidden in the brain, there’s a different woman, a different ego. A part of me which wants and needs him. That doesn’t mind being his possession.

His mate. 

“Don’t get me wrong-’’

“How can I get you good?”

The unintentional play on words uttered by urgent yet confused puppy eyes distracts me from the splendid explanation I wanted to give him.

How... How does he do it? Does he even know what he’s doing? Never mind.

“Don’t misunderstand me,” I begin anew, “I appreciate your concern for me and I really do feel safe with you. But you bit me. In public too! I get it’s your way of telling me you like me and maybe I don’t actually mind the mark you left behind so much-’’

“So it’s not the biting?” A boyish smirk plays on his lips. Had he had an actual tail, it would have been swishing heavily with a dangerous cheer. “I can do it again?”

“No.”

Maybe someday I’ll let you. But not anytime soon.

“But you said you didn’t mind my mark. If that isn’t a problem, why can’t I refresh it?”

“Jaebeom, please, let me finish talking.”

“Sorry.”

“Thank you.” I take in a deep breath. “Now, normal human couples don’t bite each other to let others and one another know they belong together. So let’s try to find other ways to do just that. Commonly, the girl wears the guy’s shirt. I think that’s a good starting point for us.”

“What are other ‘ways’?” he asks, evidently not too keen on the idea.

I tilt my head, trying to come up with the most frequent ways in which people casually express being taken without immediately suggesting obvious physical marks. “Necklaces, bracelets and rings are common couple items. Some even go as far as getting matching tattoos.”

“I like the sound of that, a tattoo. Permanent. Permanent human mark.”

“Let me think about that one, okay?”

“Okay.” He nods in agreement. “But, if I understand you correctly, I can give you a shirt.”

“You can.”

“And you’ll wear it because it has my scent on it.”

“That’s kind of the idea behind it,” I confirm, glad he understands the underlying meaning despite not explaining it.

He looks down at his chest only to discover he’s not wearing anything. The glance over his shoulder falls on a black shirt somewhere behind him. He turns away, grabs the piece of clothing and holds it tightly against his body when he turns back to me. “Sounds good to me.”

I guess I’ll be given a ‘welcome home’ present.