#sky web design

[okaydays22]

[lovelybrandt]

The Coolest Hirogaru Sky Precure 🧚‍♀️✨☁️🪽🦋 Style Web Background And Scenes Fun Designs Characters Icon Free Includes With Collab Euro 2024 🏆🇩🇪⚽

Web Background Contains Lists:

1. Cure Sky For Jamal Musiala ☁️🇩🇪

2. Cure Prism For Harry Maguire 💎💕🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

3. Cure Wing For Kylian Mbappe 🪶🪽��🇫

4. Cure Butterfly For Luka Modric 🦋🧚‍♀️🇭🇷

5. Cure Majesty Or Princess Elle For Toni Kroos 👑👸✨🇩🇪

Source: Gallery Images From Deviantart.

Requested by: @curestardust

[sch-codes]

Hellohello :D

✮✮✮ this is a sparkly one ✮✮✮

it's rather simple but i like it nontheless - hope you too!

i didn't have the time and motivation yet to replace all the lost discord-images on the other codes, but i will do that as soon as possible.

✦ Have a nice day!! ✦

Code : https://codepen.io/Plutoplanet/pen/ExJmvbE

[ginnydesigns]

“𝘚𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘓𝘪𝘴𝘣𝘰𝘯. 𝘕𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘴𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘥 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘢𝘳𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 ��𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭, 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘶𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘕𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘦. 𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺, 𝘪𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘮𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦. 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘭𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘭𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘱. 𝘈𝘪𝘴𝘩, 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘕𝘶𝘯𝘢’𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥𝘴. 𝘐 𝘩𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦…”

𝗔 𝗡𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗕𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗲𝘀𝗰𝘂𝗲: 𝗣𝗿𝗲𝗹𝘂𝗱𝗲 𝘁𝗼 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗹-𝗧𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗢𝗱𝘆𝘀𝘀𝗲𝘆

[A Novel Project in Production] #TEASER

—

Explore the world of GINNY DESIGNS! Website, SNS, sales & promotions ➡ @ginnydesigns home page

[happywebdesign]

Sky Ting

[aliaskeefh]

where in the world 31 - te mata, nz by KeefH Hellinger Via Flickr: photo taken by KeefH Web Designs for travel websites want to see more images or read the blog? www.holiday2007-8.co.uk/NEWZEALAND Te Mata Peak, located in the Hawke's Bay region of New Zealand, is a stunning natural landmark rising to 399 meters above sea level. It's part of the Te Mata Hills and offers breathtaking views of the surrounding landscapes, including the Heretaunga Plains, Tukituki Valley, and even Mount Ruapehu on clear days. The peak is steeped in Māori legend. It's said that the silhouette of the peak resembles a giant lying down, known as Rongokako, an ancestor of the Ngāti Kahungunu tribe. The story tells of his love for Hinerakau, a chief's daughter, and his tragic demise while attempting impossible tasks to prove his devotion. Visitors can hike, bike, or drive to the summit, enjoying panoramic views and exploring trails through forests and limestone valleys. The area is also popular for activities like hang gliding, paragliding, and mountain biking

[imperialbranding]

[chow0w]

Hey, can u do Tsunami?!

Of course I can! Here's my Tsunami redesign:

I don't often do these and question whether or not I've finally strayed so far off canon that the character is unrecognizable, but Tsunami's redesign is so crazy I'm actually scared for my life. I have a lot of explaining to do.

First and foremost, all of the dominant colors have been changed: Tsunami now rocks green undertones (inherited from Gill) (R.I.P) and some orange scales, which she would have received from (redesigned) Queen Coral who has coral colors in my head. In an effort to make these contrasting colors work, I lightened them a lot and made her main scale color a deep navy! The parental similarities don't stop there: Tsunami has coral-shaped horns and extra webs on her talons and tail, along with some big frills on her spine. I also moved her glowing scales to be predominately on her underbelly + forearms/webs, as I thought it was more harmonious with those lighter colors. And I gave her the chubbiness she deserves: her build now reflects her strength as a fighter!

Finally, Tsunami's dominant patterns are swirls and waves, meant to resemble a literal Tsunami or curl of a wave. I think this design suits her much more, and gives her a first impression that truly matches her character.

--

Here's my current waitlist for designs: Sunny, Clearsight, Luna, Freedom, Bigtail, Cricket, Clay, Blaze, Queen Thorn, Starflight, Darkstalker, Snowfall, Grandeur, Sky, Lynx, Queen Oasis, Queen Wasp, Dusky, Sundew, Whiteout, Squid, Bumblebee, Sky, Winter and Kinkajou!

And for new readers, here's who I've already designed! You can find these guys further up in my blog: Lady Jewel, Blue, Moon, Typhoon, Albatross, Glory, Peril, and Turtle!

As always, thank you so much for all of your support! Seeing this series grow truly is the coolest thing, and I hope I can continue to put out good designs! If you don't see your favorite on either of those lists, feel free to stop by my askbox - same as if you've got any general questions or comments!

later ( ◡‿◡ )♡

[scarluna]

Y/N, a gifted but self-conscious graphic designer, lands a job at Jeon Enterprises, a powerhouse ruled by the sharp and controlling Jeon Jungkook, whose ruthless perfectionism hides behind an enigmatic façade. Though admired and feared, Jungkook targets Y/N’s insecurities, using them as weapons against her.

Beside him stands his best friend, Min Yoongi, a sly and unpredictable force whose hot-and-cold behavior leaves Y/N questioning his motives.

Tangled in a web of cold authority, teasing games, and unspoken desire, Y/N must navigate a dangerous love triangle where ambition and emotion collide, threatening to unravel everything.

Pairing: Jungkook x Fem!Reader x Min Yoongi

Genre/Tags: plus sized reader, enemies to lovers, ceo!jungkook, graphic designer!reader, mafia!yoongi

Link to the other chapters: ACT I / ACT II / ACT III / ACT IV / ACT VI / ACT VII / ACT VIII

Chapters: 5 / ?

Chapter Warnings: mature language, bullying, slow burn, enemies to lovers

A/N: Thank you all so much for the likes and the comments. I did not think this story would become so liked. Again, thank you and enjoy! x

ACT V.

I climbed onto the bus and found an empty seat near the back. The hum of the engine and the faint chatter of passengers filled the air, but it all felt distant. My mind was a swirling storm of everything that had happened, and I couldn’t focus on anything else. I stared out the window as the city blurred past, the gray sky above mirroring the heaviness in my chest.

The tears threatened to spill again, but I clenched my fists and bit the inside of my cheek to hold them back. Not here. Not in front of strangers. I kept my face turned to the window, pretending to watch the scenery, hoping no one would notice how broken I felt inside. I had sunken in that headspace again, where I felt helpless and I didn't felt human at all. It was a nightmare for me. My mind was only stuck in the past and the pain was never ending cycle.

When the bus finally reached my stop, I stepped off into the cool air. My feet carried me the short distance to my apartment automatically, like I was on autopilot. The moment I closed the door behind me, the silence hit, and with it came the flood of emotions I’d been trying to keep at bay.

I dropped my bag by the door and slumped against the wall, sliding down until I was sitting on the floor. My chest heaved as the first sob broke free, and then another, and another, until I was crying uncontrollably. All the frustration, anger, and pain from today—hell, from the past few days—poured out of me in waves. I hugged my knees to my chest, rocking slightly, as if trying to comfort myself. Since I was a kid there was no one to comfort me, all the adults I once had believed in were never there for me. My dad was an alcoholic who used to mentally abuse me, my mom and my brother. My mother to this day is obsessed with control and she has always had the mentality of the victim. My brother was always the one who was cherished more, as the only boy of the family. And of course, I was thrown to the side with my emotional needs. So at this point, I had to be there for myself. And as grew up in adult, I felt comfortable crying and picking my pain alone rather than being vulnerable with someone. I knew I was broken, I didn't know how broken until now. 

I stayed like that for hours, crying until my throat was raw and my head pounded. Everything became a blur and I felt my body shaking. My breath was cut short and this is when I realized I was having an anxiety attack. I tried to grip at whatever I could find, my bag or my clothing as I sharply braeathed in and out of my nose, counting random numbers. At some point, my phone started buzzing incessantly, but I ignored it. I didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to explain or relive any of it. I was busy prioritizing myself at this very moment and nothing else mattered.

When the tears finally stopped, I felt hollow. My body ached from the tension, and my eyes were sore and swollen. I sat there in silence for what felt like forever, staring at nothing, feeling like I had nothing left to give. Eventually, I forced myself to stand, my movements sluggish and heavy.

I shuffled to the bathroom and turned on the shower, stripping off my clothes while the water heated up. The warmth of the shower felt soothing against my skin, like it was washing away the mess of the day and all the negative emotions I have felt until now. When I stepped out, I wrapped myself in a towel, drying off quickly before changing into sweats and grabbing Hades’ leash.

My dog greeted me eagerly, his tail wagging as if sensing I needed comfort. “Come on, boy,” I murmured, attaching the leash to his collar. His soft brown eyes met mine, and I felt a small pang of warmth in my chest. At least I had him. Hades was the only one that I felt was giving me the unconditional love I so desperately craved.

We went for a short walk around the block. The cold air biting at my skin but somehow grounding me. Hades trotted happily beside me, occasionally sniffing at patches of grass or barking at squirrels. His enthusiasm was a welcome distraction from the mess in my head, and for a brief moment, I felt like I could breathe again.

When we got back, I gave him a treat and collapsed into bed, wrapping myself in the blankets yet again. My body was exhausted, but sleep didn’t come easily. My mind replayed everything—the picture, Yoongi’s words, Rya’s betrayal, Tina’s cruelty—until I finally slipped into a restless slumber.

-

When my alarm went off, it took every ounce of willpower I had to drag myself out of bed. My eyes were dry, almost painfully so, but the crying had done its work—I felt an empty hollow shell of myself. I had realized that I slept for more than ten hours which was a record, yet I still didn't feel refreshed at all. I felt the same slump as I did yesterday. I didn't even manage to have any dinner, not that I felt like eating at all. In the last few days I skept meals way too much and I noticed my clothes growing bigger on me, which was odd because I wasn't a person to skip any meal. 

I finally went through the motions of getting ready: a quick shower, brushing my hair, slapping on some concealer to hide the evidence of my breakdown. The reflection in the mirror didn’t look like me at all. I couldn't recognize the person I had became. I was drowning in my own pain and it was getting harder to keep my head above the water. Grasping the sink, I stilled for a moment to give myself sometime to breathe. In and out. Until I felt I was grounded in my body and in my mind.

The bus ride to work felt endless. I kept my headphones in, the music drowning out the world around me as I stared out the window. I wasn’t ready for today, I wasn’t ready to face anyone, but I didn’t have a choice. I had to hold my head high and continue to push further. I shouldn't run away because these things would keep hunting me.

When I stepped into the office, the usual hustle and bustle felt distant, like I was walking through a dream.The people and their chatters almost sounded as an echo as I made my way toward my desk. It was Thursday now, and all I could think about was how close the masquerade ball was. 

I sat at my desk, turning on my computer and trying to focus, but my mind was still a jumbled mess. The excitement I’d once felt for the ball was gone, replaced by a dull ache in my chest. What was the point of pretending to care about it? Everything felt meaningless now.

I took a deep breath, forcing myself to start working. One task at a time, I told myself. Just get through the day and go home. I was too mentally exhausted with everything at this point. I typed on my keyboard, my eyes raking over the screen and the e-mail I was typing.

The office felt heavier than usual as I worked, staring blankly at the screen in front of me. The steady hum of keyboards and muted voices of my coworkers swirled around me, but I didn’t register any of it. 

“Y/N?”

I didn’t have to look up to know who it was. That voice—soft, hesitant—made my stomach churn. I clenched my jaw, refusing to acknowledge her presence. My eyes stayed glued to the screen, fingers tapping faster on the keyboard in an attempt to appear busy.

“Can I talk to you? Please?” Rya’s voice was quiet, almost trembling.

I didn’t respond. I didn’t even turn my head. The silence stretched between us and I could feel her discomfort, her desperation hanging in the air.

“I just... I need to explain. I didn’t mean for it to—”

“Don’t.” My voice was sharp, cutting through the air like a blade. I turned to her slowly, my expression cold and unyielding. “I don’t want to hear any of it, Rya. What's done is done.”

Her face crumpled, her lips pressing together as if trying to hold back tears. “I messed up, okay? I know I did. I—I shouldn’t have sent that picture to Hoseok. I thought it was just—”

“Just what?” I snapped, finally swiveling my chair to face her fully. “Funny? Harmless? What exactly did you think was going to happen?”

Her shoulders slumped, her gaze falling to the floor. “I don’t know. I wasn’t thinking, Y/N. I was just... being stupid. I didn’t think he’d actually—”

I held up a hand, cutting her off. “I don’t care what you were thinking, Rya. You sent something private—something personal—to someone else without my permission. Do you have any idea what that feels like?”

She looked up at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’ll do anything to make it right. Please, just—”

“Make it right?” I let out a humorless laugh, shaking my head. “You can’t. It’s done. And I don’t want your apology.”

Before she could say anything else, another voice interrupted.

“Y/N.”

I looked up to see Hoseok standing a few feet away, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. He looked guilty, his eyes avoiding mine at first before he forced himself to meet my gaze.

Great. Just what I needed.

“I want to apologize as well, it wasn't okay for me to do that—” he asked, his voice low.

I scoffed, leaning back in my chair. “I don't need your apology.”

“Please,” he said, stepping closer. “I messed up as well, okay? I shouldn’t have shown that picture to anyone. I just wanted to show off how happy you looked that night. It was immature and wrong, and I’m sorry. I—I wasn’t trying to hurt you, I swear.”

I stared at him, my expression unreadable. “But you did. Both of you did.”

Hoseok sighed, running a hand through his hair. He seemed worried and frustrated. “I know. I was stupid, and I regret it more than anything. I’ve felt like crap ever since. Please, Y/N, I’m begging you. Just give us a chance to make it up to you.”

I shook my head, standing up from my chair. “You don’t get to feel bad about this, Hoseok. Neither of you do. You made your choices, and now you have to live with them.”

Rya sniffled beside me, her voice barely a whisper. I could see that she has been crying, her eyes were red and her face was swollen. “Y/N, please—”

“No,” I said firmly, cutting her off. “We’re done here. Both of you, leave me alone.”

Without another word, I slowly stood up headed to the break room to escape the suffocating tension. My hands were trembling as I leaned against the counter, trying to steady my breathing. Thankfully they didn't follow me or else I'd have leashed on them even worse than I did back there. Soft sigh escaped my lips as I closed my eyes.

They might have been sorry, but their apologies didn’t mean anything to me. Not now. Maybe not ever. I could feel the entire office's eyes on me as I arrived here this morning, their judgy stares, the way they would whisper about me as I passed by . . . it almost felt like I was in high school all over again. I hated it.

The cool stream of water poured steadily into the glass I had picked from the cabinet as I focused on controlling my breathing. The break room felt quieter than usual, the faint hum of the refrigerator filling the space. I brought the glass to my lips, taking a small sip, when the sound of approaching footsteps broke the stillness.

I turned my head just as Jungkook entered the room, his sharp suit tailored perfectly, his posture confident yet somehow intimidating. He glanced at me briefly, his expression unreadable as he made his way to the coffee machine.

“Y/N,” he said, his voice even and professional as he greeted. That man was so cold. I could feel the chills in the room. He stared at my face for far too long to be comfortable. I tried to look away, but he grabbed my jaw. My breath stopped for a moment. The way he touched me, so gently, his skin felt burning sensation on me.* "Have you been crying?" he asked, tone low and demanding. I sighed and shrugged. "None of your business if I did." I could practically hear him roll his eyes. My Boss was not a man who tolerated such answers, but in my case, he remained silent. Instead, he changed the subject rather quickly and I was appreciating that, because I was not ready to talk about how I was with anyone. “About the 2 PM meeting today. You’ll need to be ready with the brief.”

I set the glass down on the counter, nodding. “I’ve got it handled.”

“Good.” He poured himself a cup of coffee and added, “Make sure Tina looks over it before you hand it to me.”

The words made me freeze for a split second. I turned to him, my expression hardening. “No.”

He looked up from his coffee cup, eyebrows slightly raised. “Excuse me?”

“I’m not giving Tina my work,” I said firmly, meeting his gaze without flinching. “I’ll present it directly to you.”

Jungkook sighed, leaning against the counter as he crossed his arms. “Y/N, Tina is your direct manager. It’s her job to review your work before it reaches me.”

“And it’s my job to make sure the work is actually done right,” I shot back, my tone sharper than intended. “Every time Tina gets involved, she messes things up. This is important, and I’m not taking that risk.”

His jaw tightened, and for a moment, I thought he might argue. But then he exhaled slowly, his shoulders relaxing slightly. “Fine. You can present it directly to me. But don’t let this happen again. The hierarchy is there for a reason, Y/N. We can’t just ignore it.”

I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t argue further. It was already a small victory.

He took a sip of his coffee, his eyes briefly studying me. Then, in a tone noticeably cooler, he asked, “I hope you are feeling better than yesterday. That doesn't mean you should slack at your work, understood?” His gaze was sharp, and yet there was something softer lurking beneath the surface.

“I won't,” I said curtly, my defenses snapping back into place.

Jungkook’s expression didn’t change, but he gave a slight nod before turning to leave the break room.

As the door swung shut behind him, I let out a slow breath. My hands still trembled slightly from the conversation me and him had, but I refused to let it show. If there was one thing I had to prove today, it was that I could handle myself—and my work—without interference.

-

By the time the meeting started, the tension in the room was palpable. Tina sat stiffly across the table from me, her lips pressed into a thin line. Jungkook, ever the professional, appeared calm, but there was a hint of worry in his expression. Whether it was about Yoongi’s absence that went unnoticed by me as well or something else, he didn’t let on.

As we began, I passed copies of my brief directly to Jungkook and the other key members of the team. Tina shot me a pointed look, her eyes narrowing. Rya and Hoseok looked at me as if they tried to say something but I did not give thim that opportunity.

“Y/N,” she said, her tone clipped, “you were supposed to send this to me first.”

“I decided it was better to present it directly,” I replied, keeping my voice neutral but firm as I reached my seat and sat back down.

Tina’s glare hardened, but before she could say anything further, Jungkook cleared his throat, drawing everyone’s attention.

“Let’s focus on the content of the work,” he said, flipping through the pages. His expression shifted slightly as he reviewed my document, a hint of approval crossing his features. He set the papers down and looked at me.

“Good work, Y/N. This is thorough and well-presented. It shows that you had improvement since last time.” Is he serious? I wanted to roll my eyes so fucking bad but I did not. Soft sigh escaped my lips. At the same time however, I fought to keep the pride from showing too much on my face but couldn’t stop a small, satisfied smile from tugging at my lips.

Jungkook turned to Tina, his tone calm but pointed. “Tina, I understand you’re managing multiple aspects of the team, but when Y/N expresses concerns about her work being compromised, those concerns need to be heard. You should take her input seriously going forward. That said, the two of you need to keep collaborating effectively.”

Tina’s jaw clenched, but she nodded stiffly. “Understood.”

I couldn’t resist. Leaning back slightly in my chair, I fixed her with a steady gaze, my smirk subtle but unmistakable. Her eyes flicked to mine briefly before she looked away, her irritation clear.

Satisfied, I shifted my attention back to Jungkook as he moved on to the next topic on the agenda: the current project documentation.

“The documentation for the ongoing projects needs a thorough review,” Jungkook said. “There have been inconsistencies flagged by the higher-ups, and we need to make sure this doesn’t happen again.”

The discussion continued, but I barely registered Tina’s contributions. The small victory from earlier left me feeling hyped, even as I knew the real challenges lay ahead. Jungkook’s approval meant something, even if his cold professionalism sometimes made it hard to tell.

As the meeting wrapped up, I caught Jungkook’s gaze briefly. He nodded once, almost imperceptibly, before gathering his papers and leaving the room. Tina stormed out soon after, her heels clicking against the floor.

I allowed myself one more small, triumphant smile before heading back to my desk to finish my current brief.

-

The night had already fallen by the time I finally managed to clear my apartment. The chaos from the past few days had left my place in disarray—papers scattered on the floor, dishes piled up in the sink, and the weight of everything I was trying to avoid pressed against the walls. But now, as I wiped down the last countertop and took a deep breath, it was like a small weight had been lifted. At least something in my life felt under control, even if it was just this tiny corner of my world.

I collapsed onto the couch, trying to relax for a moment before I had to dive back into whatever would come next. But just as I settled, my phone buzzed loudly on the table. I picked it up with a sigh, already knowing who it was from.

Tae <3

I’d seen his name flashing on my screen in these days, but I couldn’t bring myself to answer. I hadn’t been in the right frame of mind, but now, with everything finally settling down a little, I pressed the green button.

“Hey, Tae,” I said softly, my voice hoarse from the days of tension.

“Y/N! I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” he said, his voice filled with concern. “Are you okay? I… am worried.”

I let out a slow exhale, feeling a knot form in my chest as I tried to explain what had happened. “Yeah, I’m okay. Just… it’s been a rough couple of days. There’s a lot to explain, honestly.”

I spent the next few minutes filling him in on the events that had unfolded at work—about the picture, the drama with Yoongi, Tina’s cruelty, and Rya’s betrayal. Tae listened patiently, his silence comforting. Even though I was exhausted from talking about it all, his kind, calming presence over the phone helped ground me.

“Y/N, that’s… a lot. I’m really sorry you had to go through that,” Tae said, his voice tender with compassion. “I know it doesn’t change anything, but I’m here for you, okay?”

His words meant more than he probably realized. Despite everything, it felt like a small lifeline.

“I appreciate it, Tae. Really. It’s just… I don’t know what to think anymore. I feel like I’ve been surrounded by lies. It’s all just been too much.”

“I get it. But know that you have people around you that care and you should not forget who you are, stand your ground, Y/N.” he reassured me.

His voice was steady, and for the first time in days, I felt a flicker of hope. And then I remembered what my parents had told me. Did Tae actually had feelings for me? Did he stuck around all this time because he felt something for me and I blantantly ignored him, oblivious to his advances and words? I felt like such a bad person. I had to figure out what I actually felt toward him, but deep down I was afraid that I might loose him. 

“We should hang out this weekend,” he continued, his voice pulled me out of the trance I was falling into. “Maybe grab a bite, just get out of there for a bit. How about Sunday- I mean, we will still see each other at the masquerade ball tomorrow but still?”

“Sunday sounds perfect,” I replied, the idea of spending some time with him lifting my spirits. No matter how many times I was with him, it always felt like a gulp of fresh air.

“Great. I’ll text you the details. And Y/N, take care of yourself, okay?”

The sincerity in his voice had me biting my lip to keep from tearing up. “Thanks, Tae. I’ll see you then.”

We said our goodbyes, and I hung up feeling lighter. The weight that had been dragging me down all day wasn’t gone, but it had lessened. I had a plan for Sunday after the ball, something to look forward to, and that was enough for now. I should start prioritizing my life and controlling my emotions better. This was such a vulnerable and cruical moment for me. I had let people peel my skin and expose me so bad that it hurt. I was going to fight and not let anyone do that anymore.

I set my phone down and glanced at the clock, surprised to see that it was already eleven pm. Time was passing fast when I was lost in my own little world.

Before I could do anything, my phone buzzed again, the screen flashing an anonymous number. I hesitated for a second, but curiosity got the better of me. Who could this be in such hour? I swiped the green button and pressed the phone to my ear.

The line was eerily quiet, nothing but slow breathing on the other end. My heart began to race, a strange chill creeping up my spine.

“Hello?” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.

The silence continued for a moment longer, making my skin crawl. And then, just as I was about to hang up, I heard a voice.

“Y/N,” Yoongi’s voice came through the phone, gravelly and almost unrecognizable. “Please-” he slurred, "come down, I am in front of y-your apartment." 

A cold wave of panic washed over me.

“Yoongi? What the hell are you talking about?” I stood up and my bare feet tapped quickly and hastily toward my large window. I removed the curtain and I saw him. Yoongi's Hyundai Palisade was parked at the front and he was leaning against it. He glanced up but it was as if he was looking straight through me.

The line went silent again. His breathing was slow, labored, like he was struggling to stay awake.

My hands shook as I held the phone, my mind racing. What was he doing here? Why now? How the fuck did he get my phone and address?

I didn’t want to go down there, didn’t want to face him after everything that had happened. But something in his voice, a combination of weariness and something I couldn’t place, made me grab my jacket and slip on my shoes as I headed out of my apartment. My heart pounding in my chest as I walked towards the elevator. There was no way I could ignore this.

When I stepped outside, I froze.

Yoongi was standing there, barely able to stand on his own. His face was bruised, and his clothes were disheveled. His eyes were half-lidded, a bottle of something in his hand. He looked like he’d been through hell.

“Yoongi?” I whispered, my voice shaky. “What happened to you?” I took a few hesitant steps toward him. The view was horrific. It appeared as if Yoongi has fought with someone. And on top of that he was drunk and got here driving. The fuck was wrong with him?!

He didn’t respond immediately, swaying slightly on his feet. His breath was thick with alcohol, and his usually sharp gaze was dull and unfocused. He lifted his head and glared at me, trying to stand on his two feet.

“I… I just needed to see you,” he muttered, his voice thick with something I couldn’t quite place. He took a step toward me, his hand outstretched.

“You’re drunk,” I said, my voice rising in panic as I took a step back. “Yoongi, what the hell—why are you even here? Why are you acting like this?”

His eyes flickered to mine, a brief moment of recognition, “I… didn’t mean for it to happen like this,” he slurred. I could hear the pain in his voice, it was strained but it was there. 

I stood there, shocked and unsure of what to do. My mind screamed at me to walk away, to shut the door and forget this ever happened. But something inside me—something I couldn’t ignore—told me that I needed to help him. Even if I didn’t want to. See, I wasn't a person that would let others in distress or pain. Unfortunately, I'd even help to people who hurt me deeply. It was how I was raised, to always care for other's comfort but ours. It was a wicked game really, I was standing there and stared at his condition. In the months I have been at this company, I have never seen Yoongi drunk and like this. Vulnerable.

"Yoongi, you need to go home," I said, my voice firm despite the confusion swirling inside me. I felt him approach me but for some reason I didn't move. He towered over me, his brown eyes gazed at me but yet again, it felt like he was seeing right through me. Before I could say something he leaned over and pressed his face into my shoulder, sighing quietly. He dropped the bottle and I could feel him grow heavy. Was he about to pass out? Fuck.

I had second to decide what to do. To leave him lay there or drag him inside.  "Come on, let’s get you inside." I muttered quickly, wrapping my arms around him.

He didn’t argue, allowing me to help him stumble towards the entrance. He was a mess, and I hated that I couldn’t just leave him out there. I hated that I was a kind and caring person toward people that didn't deserve it at all.

As I guided him inside of the elevators and the doors closed, my mind raced with all sorts of questions.

Yoongi lifted his head and stared at my face yet again. I frowned his way and his lips twitched as he soon gave me a drunkish grin. "You are pretty like this." I rolled my eyes. "You are hallucinating,"  "I wish I was, then I wouldn't feel like shit for saying all those things to you and making you cry." he muttered lowly.

I dragged Yoongi inside, half-carrying him as he leaned heavily against me, barely able to keep his footing. His breath was labored, and his body seemed to have gone limp. It was like he was a completely different person from the Yoongi I had known—the one with sharp wit and even sharper eyes. This Yoongi was a shell, drunk and beaten, stumbling through the door of my apartment.

I didn’t know what I was doing. I just knew I had to get him off the hallway, away from the peeking neighbours and cold night air. I laid him down on my couch, watching as he immediately passed out, his head lolling to the side. He looked so vulnerable in that moment—so fragile—and it made my stomach turn. I hated seeing him like this.

I stood over him for a moment, my hands on my hips as I was unsure of what to do next. My mind was still reeling from the shock of his unexpected appearance, but there was something deeper stirring inside me. I had to make sure he was okay. Or at least, make sure he wasn’t going to hurt himself more.

I didn't really know any people closer to Yoongi than Jungkook. So I grabbed my phone and dialed Jungkook's number. After a few signals, he picked up.

“Hello?” Jungkook’s voice came through the speaker, sounding concerned and confused as of to who that might be. He probably didn't have my number saved at all. "It's uh- Y/N..." I trailed off, "sorry to bother you this late," I could tell by the sound of his voice that he was probably asleep.  "No, it's fine. Whats going on?"

“Well. . . Yoongi at my apartment. He showed up drunk with his car parked in front of my place and he’s passed out on my couch.”

There was a brief pause on the other end, and I could almost hear Jungkook’s mind racing. I heard faint curses and then some rustling before he spoke again.

“Give me your address, I will be on my way shortly,” he mumbled, I took a deep breath and gave him the location and then the line disconnected.

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. He was quiet when he walked in, his eyes scanning the room until they landed on Yoongi, sprawled helplessly on the couch. His jaw tightened for a moment, but he said nothing. I noticed Jungkook was wearing his pajamas. This is why he was so fast, he just got up and rushed here? 

“Will he be okay?” I asked, my voice softer than I intended.

Jungkook ran a hand through his messy dark hair and sighed, kneeling beside Yoongi. “Yeah. It's not his first time being like this.”

I bit my lip, watching as Jungkook carefully adjusted Yoongi’s position, making sure he was comfortable. The whole situation felt too surreal.

“Why is he like this?” I asked. The question had been gnawing at me ever since I found him outside, and I couldn’t hold it in any longer. “Why would he show up like this, covered in bruises?”

Jungkook’s eyes flickered to me for a moment, his expression unreadable. He didn’t speak immediately, as if weighing how much he could reveal. After a long pause, he finally said, “Yoongi doesn’t handle emotional pain well. He’d rather take physical pain than face whatever’s going on inside. It’s easier for him, in a way.”

The words hit me like a punch to the gut. Physical pain over emotional pain. I had always thought Yoongi was this hard, untouchable person, but hearing that made me realize how much he was hiding beneath that façade.

“That’s… that’s not normal,” I whispered, my heart aching for him.

Jungkook gave me a look, as if to say, You don’t know the half of it. He stood up and turned toward me, his eyes piercing right through me.

“I’m taking him home,” Jungkook muttered, his voice a little softer now. “I’ll make sure he’s settled in. But Y/N…”

I looked up at him, surprised by the seriousness in his voice.

“He won’t admit it, but he needs help. And I don’t think he’ll let anyone in if he knows they’re worried...”

I nodded slowly, feeling the weight of his words.

Jungkook gave Yoongi one last look before he crouched down and gently shook him awake. It took a moment, but Yoongi stirred, groaning as he slowly blinked his eyes open.

“Yoongi,” Jungkook said, his voice low and commanding. “We’re taking you home. Can you stand?”

Yoongi didn’t respond right away. His eyes were glassy, unfocused, and he winced as he tried to sit up. “I don’t want to go home…” he mumbled, his voice thick with exhaustion.

Jungkook’s eyes softened for just a second. “We don’t have much of a choice. Come on.”

With a little effort, Jungkook helped Yoongi stand, supporting him as they made their way out of my apartment. My eyes followed them as they left, a mixture of concern and confusion swirling inside me. I had no idea what was going on in Yoongi’s life, what demons he was fighting. But I could tell it was more than just the things I saw at work.

I stood in the doorway for a while after they left, the quiet of my apartment settling back in around me. There was a lot more to Yoongi than I had ever realized, and I couldn’t help but wonder—what else was he hiding?

The night felt long, and I knew that nothing was ever going to be the same after tonight.

-

I tossed and turned in my bed, staring at the ceiling, unable to escape the thoughts swirling in my mind. Yoongi. What was going on inside his head? Why would he let himself fall to such a low point? I had been so wrapped up in my own problems, so focused on myself, that I failed to look outside my bubble.

Was he suffering just as much as I was? Or worse? His words, those harsh, cutting words, still echoed in my head. I couldn’t ignore them, no matter how much I wanted to. The damage had been done. There was no coming back from that—at least not for me. His actions, his words, they had already crossed a line I wasn’t willing to forgive.

I didn’t trust him anymore. How could I? But despite my resolve, I still wondered—why? Why had he let himself get to that point? Why was he hurting like this? Was he just as lost as I felt sometimes?

But that didn’t change anything. I couldn’t let my guard down. Not now. Not after everything he had put me through.

By the time morning came, I hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep. I forced myself to get up, get dressed, and head to work, though it felt like everything was happening in a haze. When I walked into the building, everything felt louder, more intense. But my mind was still stuck on Yoongi.

As I walked down the hallway, lost in my own thoughts, I almost bumped into Jungkook.

"Hey," he said quietly, his tone almost cautious.

I glanced up at him, blinking a few times as I tried to focus. "How's Yoongi?" I asked, my voice barely a whisper.

Jungkook gave me a quick glance, and I could tell from his expression that Yoongi’s condition was still on his mind, but he didn’t want to dwell on it. “He’s fine. Just a little bruised up. He’ll be at the ball tomorrow.”

I nodded, but the words hit me harder than I expected. The ball? He was going to attend? After everything that happened?

Before I could process any more thoughts, I heard the click of heels approaching. Tina. Of course, she couldn’t leave us alone. She came up to us with that smug look she always wore, her eyes narrowing as she took in our whispered conversation.

“So, what’s going on here?” she asked, her voice dripping with false sweetness, arms crossed against her chest. “Are you two flirting?”

I rolled my eyes, not even bothering to entertain her question. I had better things to do than to deal with Tina and her constant attempts at stirring drama. "She's all yours." I muttered to him.

Jungkook, on the other hand, wasn’t as forgiving. He snapped back at her harshly, his tone cold. “No, Tina. We’re not flirting. I suggest you stop with the snarky comments or I will make you regret it.”

Tina’s eyes widened slightly, and I could see the jealousy bubbling beneath the surface. She looked from Jungkook to me, trying to read our expressions, but I refused to give her the satisfaction of a response.

Instead, I just turned and walked away, not bothering to waste my time on her games. Tina was starting to get pathetic even more in my eyes. 

Jungkook sighed behind me, clearly frustrated, but he didn’t say anything more.

It was strange—despite everything that had happened, despite the weight of my own emotions, there was something comforting about Jungkook’s presence. Maybe it was his steady calmness, or maybe it was the fact that he didn’t play games like Tina. Whatever it was, I didn’t feel as alone when he was around.

But even with that small comfort, my mind couldn’t let go of Yoongi. He was still a mess. And no matter how much I tried to convince myself otherwise, I couldn’t help but feel responsible for part of it.

I had to focus. On the work. On moving forward. Because if I didn’t, I might drown in all of this.

-

The afternoon sunlight streamed softly through my apartment windows, warming the room as I sipped my sugarless coffee, the cup cradled in both hands. At my feet, Hades curled up, his soft fur was shining under the soft rays of the sun. My eyes kept drifting to the royal blue dress hanging on the back of my bedroom door.

Rya had talked me into it—her determination was unrelenting. “You deserve to look stunning, Y/N,” she’d said, dragging me into store after store until she found the dress.

I reached for the diamond hair accessory on my dresser, its glimmer catching the sunlight. My fingers grazed it thoughtfully as I imagined how it would sit in my hair, which Rya had insisted I style in soft, flowing beach curls. I sighed, setting it down again.

Hades stirred, flicking his tail against my ankle as I took another sip of coffee, trying to ground myself. My thoughts were tangled, looping through the chaos of the past few weeks. Yoongi. Jungkook. The picture. The insults. And now, the ball. A part of me was still so anxious, but beneath it all was a simmering determination to get through this. To face everything head-on.

My phone buzzed on the counter, interrupting my thoughts. I picked it up, my heart sinking a little when I saw my parents’ number.

“Hi, Mom,” I said, forcing brightness into my voice.

“Sweetheart,” came my mom’s familiar voice, warm but tinged with hesitation. "Have you been alright, my girl?"  I paused, should I tell her about what happened to me or keep it to myself. I swallowed thickly and forced a steady voice, it was tough not being able to be understood by your own mother. I knew what she was gonna say so I did not bother letting her know about this. "I am okay, mom. How's dad?" "Oh, you know, he has a new hobby which is grilling. He is quite alright per say." I humed in response and there was a pause. “Your brother’s parole was denied.” she served it as if it was the most casual thing ever. I frowned and rose up from my bed, biting on my lips. The words hit me like a dull thud in the chest, but I kept my voice steady. “What now? Should we change the attorney?”

“We’ll figure it out,” she said, trying to sound reassuring. “We’ll visit him soon and see how we should proceed.”

I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. “Alright," I trailed off. I couldn't believe his parole was denied. That probably wrecked him completely. 

We chatted a little longer before saying our goodbyes, but the call left a small crack in my composure. I set the phone down and took a deep breath. Focus, Y/N. Tonight is about showing up and holding your own.

-

The drive to the MNT Media headquarters was a blur. Taehyung had picked me up in his sleek black Genesis GV80 SUV, his reaction when he saw me leaving my apartment still fresh in my mind.

“Wow, Y/N,” he had said, his eyes widening as I stepped outside. “You look... incredible.”

I’d smiled, a little shy under his burning gaze. “Thanks, Tae." I was not used to compliments, but I took enough time to look at myself in the mirror. I did look quite well tonight. That dress hugged my curves perfectly and it showed everything that had to be shown and everything that had to stay hidden. The color perfectly contrasted with my skin. The mask was hiding who I struggled to be, it was made from royal blue diamonds and it shined under the lighting of my apartment.  And the jewlery in my hair only added to the effect of luxury. 

Tae however, he was wearing a black suit, tailored to perfection, with a crisp white shirt and a black bow tie. His mask—a gold and black design that made him look impossibly suave—only added to his charm. His brown locks of hair tossled and messy suited him perfectly. He looked like a handsome prince. And for a moment I found the thought of him liking me ridicilous. Why would someone who looked so perfect would like someone like me? As we drove, he threw out compliments like they were second nature, his voice laced with a playful flirtation that made me laugh despite my nerves.

“You’re going to steal the show tonight,” he said, his eyes briefly flicking toward me before returning to the road. "You are exaggerating." I gazed at him with soft grin and my eyes raked over his face and that smug smirk from my response. However, my eyes focused on his veiny hands that held the steering wheel. I stared at them for a little too long as he obviously noticed my stare. "Something wrong?" I snapped out of it and looked away, clearing my throat. "No- not at all."  I saw that dumbass smirk smugly at me. I wanted to punch him but instead a small giggle escaped my lips.

When we pulled up to the grand entrance of MNT Media’s headquarters, I felt a wave of anxiety crash over me. The paparazzi were already gathered outside, their cameras flashing incessantly, blinding all the people that passed by. The building itself was a towering masterpiece of glass and steel, lit up like a beacon in the night. It screamed 'you are out of this world, Y/N' in big bold letters.

Taehyung parked, stepping out first before circling around to open my door. “Ready?” he asked, holding out his hand like the real gentleman he was.

I nodded, placing my hand in his. I felt electricity run down my spine as I felt the warmth and softness of his skin. He held my hand ever so gentle as if he was afraid I'd break. I spared a glance at his face and then my focuse went on my exit from the car. As I stepped out, the flashing lights of the cameras hit me like a tidal wave. I felt overwhelmed for a moment, but Taehyung offered his arm, and I clung to it like a lifeline.

“Just keep your eyes forward,” he whispered, leaning close so only I could hear. “You’ve got this.”

I took a deep breath, straightened my back, and let him lead me inside.

The ballroom was breathtaking. The lights were dimmed, casting everything in a soft golden glow. Crystal chandeliers hung high above, their facets sparkling like stars. Guests milled about in masks, their laughter and conversation blending with the sound of a grand piano being played in the corner. The air smelled faintly of expensive cologne, champagne, and roses.

Round tables draped in white silk lined the edges of the room, while the center was open for dancing. Everything oozed luxury—from the gilded accents on the walls to the servers circulating with trays of expensive champagne.

“Not bad, huh?” Taehyung said, his tone light as we stepped inside.

“It’s beautiful,” I admitted, my eyes sweeping over the scene.

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his voice quieter this time.

I glanced up at him, his expression softer now, less playful. It was cute really, all I could do was give him a soft grin in response.

As we moved deeper into the room, I couldn’t help but feel the weight of the evening settling over me. And whatever happened tonight, I knew it was going to change everything.

I scanned the room, feeling a little overwhelmed by the sheer magnitude of it all. Everywhere I looked, there were important people—CEOs, celebrities, politicians—all dressed in their finest. The men wore tailored suits with intricate masks, while the women dazzled in luxurious gowns, their jewels glinting under the chandeliers. The anonymity of the masks made it impossible to identify anyone from Jeon Enterprises however.

Taehyung and I found a spot near one of the round tables draped in white silk. He handed me a glass of champagne, the bubbling liquid catching the warm golden glow of the chandeliers.

“You’re doing great,” he said, leaning closer so I could hear him over the soft murmur of conversation.

I gave him a small smile, grateful for his calming presence. “Thanks, Tae.”

We lounged there for a while, sipping our champagne and observing the scene. Taehyung’s easy charm and lighthearted comments kept me grounded, though my thoughts still occasionally drifted to the potential encounters lurking behind the glittering masks.

Then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw them—Rya and Hoseok.

Rya looked absolutely stunning, as she always did. She wore a deep crimson gown with a plunging neckline, the fabric hugging her petite frame and flowing elegantly to the floor. Her dark hair was pinned up in a sophisticated bun, and her mask—a delicate creation of red lace and gold—perfectly matched her dress. She exuded confidence, but there was a cautiousness in her eyes as she approached.

Hoseok, by contrast, looked sharp and understated in a classic black suit paired with a sleek white mask. The suit was tailored impeccably to his lean frame, and the silk pocket square matched the ivory tones of his mask. His usual bright smile was subdued as he stood beside Rya, his hands in his pockets, his posture slightly hesitant.

They stopped a few feet away from me, and for a moment, the air seemed to hang heavy between us.

“Y/N,” Rya said, her voice tentative.

I smiled softly, deciding tonight wasn’t the time for grudges or rehashing old wounds. The ball was too grand, the stakes too high for petty arguments. “Rya. Hoseok,” I greeted politely, nodding to each of them. “You both look amazing.”

Relief washed over their faces.

“You too,” Rya said, her smile finally reaching her eyes. “That dress... wow. You look incredible.”

“She’s right,” Hoseok added, his tone sincere. “You’re... glowing, Y/N. Like, really.”

I gave a small laugh, shaking my head. “You two are just trying to butter me up.”

“No, really,” Rya insisted, stepping closer. “I’m so sorry about everything. We are. I didn’t mean for things to get so out of hand—”

“Not tonight,” I interrupted gently, raising a hand to stop her. “Let’s just enjoy the ball, okay? We can talk about it another time.”

They exchanged a glance before nodding in unison. “Okay,” Rya said. “Thank you, Y/N.”

“Thank you,” Hoseok echoed, his smile finally warming.

I felt a small weight lift off my chest. It wasn’t forgiveness—not entirely—but it was a step in the right direction. Tonight wasn’t about grudges or misunderstandings. It was about standing tall, embracing the moment, and maybe even letting myself enjoy it.

Taehyung, who had been quietly observing the exchange, leaned closer and whispered in my ear, “See? You’re a natural at this.”

I gave him a playful nudge, but his words made me smile. The night was still young, and for now, I was determined to make the most of it.

The conversation with Rya and Hoseok had settled into an easy rhythm, the earlier tension softening with every passing minute. I was just starting to feel comfortable when the grand double doors at the far end of the ballroom opened, drawing everyone’s attention.

I turned toward the entrance, my champagne glass frozen mid-air. That’s when I saw him—Jungkook.

He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black tuxedo, his broad shoulders commanding attention even amidst the sea of masked guests. His dark mask was minimalistic yet elegant, fitting his sharp, chiseled features like it was made for him. But what truly caught me off guard was the person on his arm.

Tina.

She clung to him like her life depended on it, her smug expression practically radiating across the room. Her gown, a striking emerald green with a dangerously high slit, screamed of someone desperate to make an impression. She looked ecstatic—proud, even—and for good reason. To show up with Jeon Jungkook at her side? That was a trophy in itself.

My stomach twisted uncomfortably as I watched her lean closer to him, giggling at something he said. But Jungkook didn’t seem invested in her. His eyes were scanning the room, restless, as though he was searching for someone.

Someone?

Before I could make sense of it my eyes shifted to the second couple that had just walked in.

This time, it was Yoongi.

The sight of him stole my breath for a moment. He was dressed in an all-black ensemble as well, but with a velvet jacket that added an edge of understated luxury. His mask, a rich silver that contrasted against his dark hair, gave him an air of quiet mystery. But it wasn’t just him.

On his arm was Gina.

Gina—the same girl from the cafeteria who had made those snide comments about my weight. The same Gina who had once asked Hoseok to this ball and been pushed away. She had traded in her usual uniform for a glittering golden gown that hugged her figure like it had been poured onto her. Her mask sparkled with rhinestones, matching the shimmering confidence in her eyes.

The sight of her with Yoongi made my chest tighten, though I couldn’t quite explain why. Maybe it was because she had made me feel so small that day in the cafeteria, and now she was walking in like she owned the place.

I stared longer than I should have, my gaze flicking between the two pairs—Jungkook and Tina, Yoongi and Gina. "The hell, Tina and Gina?" Rya asked in disbelief. Hoseok giggled. "Their names rhyme." "They are both equally evil." Rya answered with a flat tone, "that's why." I burst out laughing at this, because let's face it. It was true, both of them thrived on attention. I wonder how the Boss and Yoongi fell for their traps.

“You’re staring,” Taehyung’s voice broke through my thoughts. He leaned in close, his lips brushing my ear. “Don’t let them see they’ve gotten to you,” he murmured, his tone soft but firm.

I blinked, snapping my gaze back to Taehyung. His brown eyes were warm, reassuring, and I gave him a small nod. He was right. I wouldn’t let them have that satisfaction.

But it seemed I wasn’t as subtle as I thought.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Jungkook’s head turn in my direction. His eyes, sharp and focused even behind the mask, landed on me almost instantly. I couldn’t see his expression entirely, but something flickered there—recognition.

And then Yoongi’s gaze followed.

It was as though time slowed for a moment. Jungkook and Yoongi both stared at me, their attention laser-focused despite the room full of people.

I felt exposed, vulnerable, even though I was fully covered by my mask and gown.

“Looks like you’ve been spotted,” Taehyung said, an annoying lilt to his voice as he lifted his glass to his lips.

I exhaled slowly, trying to calm the sudden flutter of nerves in my stomach. “Let them look,” I muttered, tilting my chin up slightly.

But as much as I wanted to exude confidence, I couldn’t shake the feeling that this night was about to get a lot more complicated.

A hush fell over the ballroom as a woman walked onto the stage at the far end of the room. The murmurs around me stilled as all eyes turned toward her. Octavia Leeroy, the CEO of MNT Media, stood tall and commanding under the spotlight.

She was stunning—her elegance more commanding than any gown or mask in the room. Dressed in a sleek, black floor-length gown with subtle sequins that caught the light, she radiated power and sophistication. Her mask was a bold gold creation, but her presence alone was enough to command attention.

As she took her place at the microphone, her voice carried through the room, smooth and steady.

“Welcome,” she began, her tone warm yet authoritative. “Tonight is a celebration—a celebration of not only our successes but of the people who make those successes possible. Each of you represents a piece of a puzzle that drives industries, builds communities, and inspires change. But let’s not forget, behind every mask, every polished exterior, are sacrifices, challenges, and battles fought in silence.”

I felt a lump form in my throat as her words resonated. She spoke with a sincerity that cut through the grandeur of the event, sharing stories of her struggles—the nights she worked tirelessly, the people who doubted her and the moments she doubted herself.

Her voice wavered only slightly when she spoke of the cost of ambition, but she never faltered. She had built an empire with blood, sweat, and tears, and now she stood as a symbol of resilience.

A wave of admiration surged through me. This is what strength looks like, I thought to myself, soaking in every word. She was everything I dreamed of becoming—powerful, respected, unshakable. When Octavia finished her speech, a thunderous applause erupted, echoing through the grand ballroom. I clapped along with the crowd, my heart swelling with a renewed sense of determination.

As the applause faded, the music resumed—a gentle, lilting melody that invited couples to the dance floor.

I turned back to Taehyung, who was already watching me with a mischievous glint in his eye. He extended his hand, a teasing smile playing on his lips. “May I have this dance?”

I hesitated for only a moment before taking his hand. “You may,” I replied, my voice light. Rya and Hoseok also joined the dance floor and swayed in the slow rhytum of the piano music.

Taehyung led me to the dance floor, his confidence putting me at ease. He placed one hand on my waist, the other still holding mine, and we began to move in time with the music.

At first, our steps were measured, almost formal. But as we swayed, something shifted. The space between us grew smaller, and the intensity of his gaze deepened. His fingers lingered on my waist, his touch light yet deliberate.

“You’re full of surprises tonight,” he murmured, his voice low.

“Me?” I countered, my heart fluttering as his gaze dropped briefly to my lips. “You’re the one making all the bold moves.”

He chuckled, spinning me gently. “Maybe I like seeing you off guard.”

Before I could respond, I felt a pair of hands catch me mid-spin, steadying me. The grip was firm, different.

When I turned to look up, I froze.

Jungkook.

His dark eyes locked onto mine, a flicker of something unspoken passing between us. His mask did little to hide the sharp angles of his face, and the faintest hint of a smirk played on his lips.

“Mind if I cut in?” he asked, his tone smooth yet edged with something deeper.

I blinked, my breath hitching as I realized I had no choice—Taehyung had already stepped back, a deep scowl at his lips as he let Jungkook take the lead without any other word. 

Jungkook’s hand slid to my waist, his other still holding mine as he began to move us effortlessly across the floor. His proximity, the intensity of his gaze, left me completely unmoored.

“You look proper,” he said softly, his voice carrying a hint of surprise. Proper? Really? What should I expect from a man like him.

“Thanks,” I replied, my voice steadier than I felt. “You don’t look too bad yourself.”

His smirk deepened as he twirled me, his movements confident and precise. “I’d say I look more than ‘not too bad‘.’”

I rolled my eyes, despite the warmth creeping up my neck. “Careful, Jungkook. Your ego’s showing.”

He chuckled, his grip on my waist tightening slightly as he leaned closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper. “And here I thought you’d be too nervous to handle a dance like this.”

I tilted my chin up, refusing to let him rattle me. “Maybe you don’t know me as well as you think.”

His gaze darkened, his expression unreadable as we continued to move in perfect synchronization. For a moment, the world around us blurred—the guests, the music, the grandeur of the ballroom. It was just him and me, locked in a silent battle of wills.  "You came with Tina?" I asked in a hushed tone as we danced. He frowned but then low chuckle escaped his plump lips. Was he amused? "Are you jealous?" "You fucking wish." I spoke out and Jungkook laughed at that. I have never seen him so cheery.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw another familiar figure on the edge of the dance floor. Yoongi.

He was watching us, his expression unreadable behind his mask, but his eyes told a different story. He was intently staring at me and Jungkook as Gina was tugging his arm to go to the dance floor but by his expression and his stoic frame, he refused. Gina gave up and crossed her arms against her chest.

The tension in the air between Jungkook and me was palpable. I couldn't breathe from the closeness of him. He was intoxicating me, like a bottle of strong alcohol making my knees go weak. I had my breath hitched the entire dance before the music stopped and everyone parted. Jungkook refused to let me go.  "You are really beautiful tonight, Y/N." he muttered, his eyes exploring my face. I cleared my throat and pulled away immediately, "T-thanks." He hummed and soon I saw a few guys call out to him. Jungkook turned around to see who it was then back at me. "I have to go. Talk to you later." he said before he headed toward the group of people as I was left alone at the dance floor.

Suddenly, a voice called my name from behind me.

“Y/N?”

I turned around, my steps faltering as I came face-to-face with a man I hadn’t seen in years. Richard Delgrassi.

“Mr. Delgrassi?” I stammered, the surprise evident in my tone. What was he doing here?

He smiled warmly, his salt-and-pepper hair adding a distinguished edge to his polished appearance. Dressed in a charcoal-gray tuxedo and a black mask that matched his sharp features, he exuded the same air of authority and charm I remembered from my childhood.

“I thought that was you,” he said, his tone brimming with familiarity. “My, how you’ve grown. It’s been what—ten years?”

“More like twelve,” I replied, a small smile tugging at my lips. “I’m surprised you recognized me with this mask.”

“Your eyes, dear,” he said, gesturing lightly. “They’re unmistakable. Just like your father’s.”

At the mention of my father, a pang of nostalgia hit me. Richard Delgrassi had been one of my father’s closest associates back when our family was still living the high life. My father, Benjamin, had owned one of the most successful car manufacturing companies in the country. His name had once been synonymous with innovation and luxury in the automobile industry. Richard had been his right-hand man, helping to expand the business and secure lucrative deals. But as fate would have it, a series of unfortunate events—including betrayal from within the company—had forced my father to sell his empire and move abroad, leaving behind the life he had built so painstakingly.

Now, Richard was a prominent politician, known for his advocacy for economic reform and his push for ethical practices in business. His transformation from a business mogul’s associate to a public figure had been nothing short of remarkable.

“It’s been ages,” I said, trying to suppress the rush of emotions his presence stirred. “How have you been?”

“Well, politics keeps me busy,” he said with a chuckle. “But I’ve been keeping an eye on the industry. It’s hard to let go of one’s roots entirely, you know.”

I nodded, understanding exactly what he meant.

“And you?” he asked, his tone shifting to genuine curiosity. “What are you doing these days? Last I heard, your family had moved overseas.”

“I’m working here now,” I said, straightening slightly. “At Jeon Enterprises.”

His brows shot up in surprise. “Jeon Enterprises? That’s unexpected. What are you doing there?”

“I’m part of their marketing team,” I explained, trying to sound more confident than I felt. “It’s... challenging, but it’s been a learning experience.”

Richard studied me for a moment, a glimmer of intrigue sparking in his eyes. “Jeon Enterprises, you say? That’s an interesting choice. They have quite the reputation—for better or worse.”

I tilted my head slightly, curious. “You know them?”

“I’ve crossed paths with their CEO, Jungkook, a few times,” he said thoughtfully, his eyes shifting behind me. I didn't have to turn around to know he was staring at Jungkook. “He’s a sharp one, but his company’s ethos has always been... pragmatic, shall we say. I’ve been looking for an organization that values long-term growth over short-term profits, something more aligned with my goals.”

“And you think Jeon Enterprises could be that organization?” I asked, intrigued.

“Perhaps,” he said, stroking his chin. “If they’re willing to adapt. But enough about me—how do you find it there? Are they treating you well?”

The question caught me off guard. I hesitated, the memories of Tina’s snarky remarks and Yoongi’s cold demeanor flashing through my mind. But then I thought of the moments when Jungkook had, in his own quiet way, come to my defense.

“It has its ups and downs,” I admitted carefully. “But I’m learning a lot.”

Richard nodded approvingly. “Good. That’s what matters. And who knows, perhaps our paths might cross again soon in a more... professional capacity.” I saw him pull out a business card out of his pocket and give it to me. Did I just made the first client join our company? My heart skipped. I accepted it. "Then, we should discuss this over a meeting at our company soon. "Excellent. See you soon, Y/N. And give Benjamin my regards."

A mix of nostalgia and newfound curiosity swirling in my chest. For years, I had tried to bury the life my family had left behind, but seeing Richard here, so firmly planted in this world of power and influence, made me wonder if maybe—just maybe—it wasn’t entirely out of reach for me either.

As he excused himself to speak with another guest, I couldn’t help but feel that this meeting was more than just a coincidence. Perhaps, amidst all the chaos, this was the start of something new. Something I hadn’t even realized I was searching for.

-

The evening had been going surprisingly well so far. I stood among a small group of representatives from various companies, discussing Jeon Enterprises and its potential as a reliable partner. My nerves had simmered down, and I was finally hitting my stride in the conversation.

“So, what makes Jeon Enterprises stand out from its competitors?” a tall, sharp-suited executive asked, his tone curious yet skeptical.

I took a deep breath, summoning the confidence I had been building over the months. “Aside from our innovative approach to market trends, Jeon Enterprises is focused on creating long-term solutions rather than short-term fixes. We prioritize adaptability, ensuring that our clients’ needs are met even as industries evolve. And with the resources we provide, we’re not just a business partner—we’re a growth catalyst.”

The executive nodded thoughtfully, and I could see that I was making headway.

But just as I was about to elaborate further, I heard the telltale clink of heels approaching.

And then it happened.

A sudden cold splash against my side made me flinch, and I looked down to see a vivid crimson stain blooming across my royal blue gown.

“Oh no!” came Tina’s voice, syrupy and fake, as she stood there holding an almost-empty glass of wine. “I’m so clumsy. I didn’t see you standing there, Y/N.”

Her tone didn’t match her words; there wasn’t an ounce of remorse in her expression. Instead, her lips curled into a smug smirk as her gaze swept over me, clearly reveling in the scene she’d just created.

Around me, the small crowd went silent, their eyes darting between Tina and me. The heat of their stares burned on my skin as I stood frozen for a moment, staring at the spreading stain.

Tina’s mockery didn’t stop there. “Oh dear, that dress must have cost a fortune. It’s such a shame, really.”

I clenched my fists, biting back a sharp retort. She wanted a scene, and I refused to give her one.

Forcing a tight smile, I turned to the group I had been speaking with. “Please excuse me for a moment.”

Their sympathetic nods did little to ease the weight of humiliation pressing down on me as I stepped away. As I walked past Taehyung, who had been nearby, he immediately stood and reached for my arm.

“Y/N, let me—”

“No,” I said quickly, not wanting to draw more attention. “I’ve got this, Tae. I’ll be fine.”

He hesitated but nodded, his concern clear in his eyes as he let me go.

I made my way toward the restrooms, my chest tightening with every step. The laughter and conversation from the ballroom felt like it was directed at me, though I knew logically that wasn’t the case. Still, the weight of humiliation was suffocating.

Once in the restroom, I tried dabbing at the stain with water, but it was no use. The red had seeped too deeply into the fabric. Sighing, I gave up and left, heading toward the balcony for some air.

The cold night breeze hit me as I stepped outside, the quiet a welcome reprieve from the noise and judgment inside. I leaned against the stone railing, my eyes sweeping over the city lights below. They sparkled like a sea of stars, but even their beauty couldn’t distract me from the ache in my chest.

I felt humiliated, small, like no matter how much effort I put into proving myself, people like Tina would always find a way to knock me down.

“Thought I might find you here,” came a familiar voice from behind me.

I stiffened, glancing over my shoulder. Yoongi stood there, his mask pushed up slightly on his forehead, his bruised face partially illuminated by the soft glow of the lights. I noticed him not taking off his mask at all at the ball room. Probably because he didn't want anyone to see his bruised face.

“Did you come to add to the humiliation?” I asked, my voice sharper than I intended.

He sighed, stepping closer but leaving enough space between us to keep it comfortable. “No,” he said simply. “You looked like you could use some air.”

I turned back to the railing, the weight of the evening pressing down on me again. “Well, congratulations. You were right. I don’t belong here.”

His silence was surprising, and when I glanced at him, I saw something I didn’t expect—regret.

“I didn’t say that,” he said after a moment, his voice low.

“You didn’t have to.”

He exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “Look, I know I’ve been... a jerk.”

I scoffed at the understatement but said nothing, letting him continue.

“I’ve said things—done things—that I’m not proud of,” he admitted, his voice quieter now. “And I can’t take those back. But for what it’s worth... I don’t think you’re out of place here. Not tonight. Not ever.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, and I stared at him, a cocktail of emotions swirling inside me. Regret? From Min Yoongi? It was almost laughable. Almost.

I turned back toward the city lights, gripping the railing tighter. “You think a couple of kind words will fix everything?” I asked, my tone sharp.

He didn’t respond right away, and I could feel his gaze on me, heavy and searching.

“I’m not trying to fix anything,” he said finally. “I just... I wanted to say it.”

“Well, you can’t just ‘say it’ and expect me to forget everything else.” I spun to face him, the emotions I’d been suppressing all night bubbling to the surface. “You humiliated me, Yoongi. Over and over again. And for what? To make yourself feel better?”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t look away. “I deserve that.”

“You deserve more than that,” I snapped. “But that’s not even the worst part. The worst part is what you did that night. Do you even realize what could’ve happened? Driving drunk to my apartment like that? What the hell were you thinking?”

Yoongi blinked, clearly not expecting the shift in conversation. His face darkened, a flicker of shame passing over his features. “I wasn’t thinking,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just... I needed to see you.”

“To see me?” I threw my hands up in disbelief. “So you thought, ‘Hey, let me risk my life and possibly someone else’s because I’m having a bad day’? What if you’d hurt someone, Yoongi? What if you’d hurt yourself?”

He took a step closer, his expression pained. “I know,” he said, his voice rough. “I know it was stupid. I wasn’t in a good place—”

“That’s not an excuse,” I cut him off, my voice trembling. “You don’t get to make reckless decisions and then shrug it off because you ‘weren’t in a good place.’”

He looked down, his hands curling into fists at his sides. “You’re right. It’s not an excuse. I just...” He trailed off, shaking his head as if searching for the right words. “I didn’t know how to deal with... everything. I wasn’t thinking clearly.”

I let out a bitter laugh, turning away from him. “Clearly.”

Silence settled between us, the tension thick and suffocating. The sounds of the city below seemed to fade as I struggled to rein in my emotions.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly, the sincerity in his voice catching me off guard. “For all of it. For the things I said, the way I treated you, for... showing up that night. You didn’t deserve any of that.”

His words hit me harder than I expected, but I wasn’t ready to let go of my anger just yet. “You’re right, I didn’t,” I said coldly. “And sorry doesn’t erase what you did.”

“I know it doesn’t,” he said quickly, his tone pleading now. “But it’s all I can give you.”

I turned to face him again, searching his eyes for something—anything—that would make sense of the man standing before me. He looked vulnerable in a way I’d never seen before, the usual cool confidence stripped away.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I said finally, my voice breaking. “You hurt me, Yoongi. Over and over. And I don’t know if I can ever trust you again.”

He nodded, swallowing hard. “I understand.”

The weight of his gaze was almost too much to bear, and I looked away, my chest tight with a mix of anger, sadness, and something I didn’t want to name.

“I’m trying to be better,” he said quietly. “I don’t know if that matters to you, but... I thought you should know.”

I didn’t respond, my emotions too tangled to form a coherent thought. Instead, I turned back to the city lights, the cold air biting at my skin.

Yoongi stayed for a moment longer, as if waiting for something—an answer, a reaction, anything. But when it became clear I wasn’t going to give him one, he sighed and stepped back.

“Have fun at the ball, Y/N. You deserve it.” he said softly before turning and walking away, leaving me alone on the balcony with my thoughts.

I gripped the railing tighter, the ache in my chest growing stronger as I watched him disappear into the shadows of the ballroom.

And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t know what I wanted anymore.

[scribblestatic]

In celebration of me finally starting to put Spider Yuan on AO3, have another installment uwu

Prev Masterpost Next

---

Considering the methods of cultivating a humanoid body was proving pretty difficult, especially when the being in question could only, for reasons unknown, associate such a body with weakness.

Fewer eyes, fewer limbs, less imposing.

But at the same time, he does wish to talk to people of various races. He wishes to travel a little, too. As much as he's enjoyed his time at home, he wants to stretch his legs a little, perhaps leave more of the duties to the other spiders for a while. Zhuzi seems to be taking up the mantle even more, especially since she updated him on events in the nearby human village.

Besides, he could somewhat play around with what his humanoid form would be like, right? It wasn't as though he had to directly mimic the appearance of a human. As long as he could fit into doors and had thumbs when necessary, that would probably be best.

He doesn't have to make a body like he'd had before...

...?

When did he have a humanoid body before?

Eh, it didn't really matter.

Having decided that he would walk among humans and demons at least a little bit, he began cultivating a humanoid form.

Of course, he quite likes his current body. There's a very nice feeling that comes with being a large spider, able to build intricate webs that are difficult for the common beast, human, or demon to break down. He wouldn't be replacing it. Rather, it would be like...having another suit. Yes.

He's simply building another outfit aside from the one he always wears.

He's sure demons can do the same thing. Huli jing are quite notorious for it, aren't they? Fox spirits, whether a spiritual beast or a demon, can become beautiful people, but can also be in their fox form, can't they? He'd just do something similar.

Though, he does like having eight eyes. If he arranges the eyes on the face a little... And having more than four limbs is ideal. He could attach the remaining four there and there... His silk could come from over there...yes. And how should he shift from one form to the other? Hmm...

It's a thorough designing process that takes up a lot of his time, so he doesn't mind it so much when Fan Zhenzhen, Ruoxing, and their family visit less and less. He instead is able to throw himself into the process without minding what is going on around him, cultivating and gaining strength. He'll need a lot of it for the transformation, he knows instinctively.

It's in this focused state that he finds himself being interrupted by a pale girl.

And by pale, he means really pale. Pale white. Like, as in paper.

Her pale, almost porcelain-looking skin is curtained by fluffy grey hair. She wears straight-cut bangs that were above her round eyebrows—ah, are those disguised eyes, actually?—and her wide, cat-like eyes were a pale, cloudy blue color, the kind from the sky on a rainy day. Although some of her hair is done up in two little balls, the rest fluffs down her neck. Two thick strands, though, bend up and partially over her bangs from the whorl of her hair, like little spider legs.

Her cheeks are dusted with rounded pink circles, as though they were painted on rather than natural. Adding to her rather inhuman appearance are her clearly long, elf-like ears, though they point out more to the sides than upward. Aside from her face, she wears a poqun, her top made with dark green threads and the skirt pale green.

It takes him a moment to process who this is.

"...Zhuzi."

"Yes, Dage." Her voice is flat despite the small smile on her face.

"When did you cultivate a human form?"

"About seven years ago."

"Hmm... I...ah, don't recall this time passing."

"You've been very focused on cultivating, Dage. When I asked how you were moving, you said you were...'in the zone'. Doing something called 'autopilot'."

What was autopilot? Like, he understood what it meant the instant he heard the word, but as to where it came from, he was unsure.

"Then, how much time has passed?"

"About 20 years."

Eh?

Twenty years passed just like that?

When he thinks about it further, he starts processing what he's been doing. He vaguely remembers a few things, the more he ponders, like exchanging stories, meeting demons and humans. He's eaten a few offenders who didn't have better manners, giving him little boosts in his cultivation.

His mind wasn't empty at all during this time. In fact, he was working harder than ever, building, manufacturing, further developing his plots of land, cementing his territory...

He barely realized he'd done all of that, though only now he recognizes that, yes, this time has indeed passed and life has gone on.

"Excuse me for interrupting you. I wasn't sure how much longer you would be on, as you said, 'autopilot'. I felt this would be something of importance," Zhuzi murmurs. She puts her hand to her chin, and Shen Yuan notices the segments in her fingers, her skin actually a spider's exoskeleton.

"Mm. What is of importance?"

"It seems that Fan Zhenzhen has become bedridden."

--

When Fan Zhenzhen met the Great Spider, she was in her mid-20s. Her son was born not too long after meeting him.

With the successful birth of her son and the growing prosperity of Xiaoshan Village (小山村 - Xiǎo Shāncūn - Little Mountain Village), she quickly became a prominent figure. Because her stories produced the most beneficial results, others came to her for advice on what to tell the God of the Woods.

Having told him several stories, she found he appreciated both the real and dramatized, but not so dramatic that it was ridiculous. Moreover, whether he liked the story or not, he would always critique it, from how it was told to how he views the characters. This advice and further practice on storytelling grew their prowess and critical thinking. She found that the things that made sense to the spider were not always common to humans, however, for a great being such as himself, surely his logic was sound.

And so, the girls of the village began receiving more education. Although apprenticeships were initially only for boys, families and teachers began allowing girls to participate more frequently. Although some remained in the home to take care of the family, others were becoming tradeswomen, and boys who were less educationally gifted had room to take up more space in the home.

It was strange. Not very natural. Certainly not Confucian...or, perhaps, more Confucian than the way they'd been living before. Although girls were taught to stay home, to be filial to their parents, and to not be jealous if their husband had more wives, did he not have the Silver Rule? If boys couldn't handle living the same way as their fellows, then surely, someone's status had to change.

It was through this theory that Fan Zhenzhen eventually acquired the title of Village Elder, making her the new leader once the previous one passed. After all, her logic was backed by Lulin Zhizhu, who provided for them and protected them. How could she be wrong?

Once her son reached his teenage years, he became infatuated with Han Miyun, her daughter-in-law. Although she could never appreciate spiders the way she does, she understood. Fear was another form of respect, in a way.

Though, she would likely have to conquer her overly fearful constitution one way or another. After all, Ruoxing was quite close to their god, the one who blessed and protected him. He was to be the next Village Head upon her inability to continue her role, something he agreed to do.

In her 50s, she met her first grandchild. She watched, later on, as this same grandchild left the village for a cultivation sect, her spiritual veins strong and full of vigor. Even though she could not come visit often, she continued to send letters in her increasingly neat and orderly handwriting, talking about the upper realm of mortals with great infatuation.

Those years ago, when she'd been starving and growing cold, Fan Zhenzhen had never once thought a child or grandchild of hers would reach such heights. To be able to see it with her own eyes was such a great blessing, more than she could've ever asked for.

It was because she learned some of these strange events of a world more fantastical than the one she lived in that, when a spider came down the mountain in a human-like form, greeting them with a blank expression, she took it in stride. She ignored the unnatural smoothness of her skin and the segments showing the bends of her joints. She ignored how her god's little assistant was adapting, changing her mannerisms to be more comfortable for those who couldn't handle the splendor of a spider's power.

Instead, as she grew older and less able to make the trek to see her god up close, she relied on Mishu-zhang (秘书长 - mìshū zhǎng - secretary general) to relay her messages, inquiries, and stories. Judging by how she would swiftly return within a day or two, it seemed her god held no grudge against her for not coming to visit like she used to.

Now, in her 70s, her body has grown weary. Perhaps she overworked herself in her younger years, but her knees creaked when she moved. Her back curled inward and she ran out of breath faster. She'd been quite fit, but she felt herself deteriorating somehow.

One day, when she found moving from her bed to be too strenuous, she realized what this likely was.

Peace.

Peace and desire.

Her son was quite alright, wasn't he? He'd grown up well. He was strong, and he had several children with a lovely woman.

Their village was safe, protected from beast, human, and demon alike. Their wisdom, grown over decades alongside their fields, was fruitful and multiplying. New ideas came from the minds of all developing children, with room to practice and test the validity of their inventions and intuition.

Fan Zhenzhen had worked hard. She was seeing the results of her hard work, and my, how wonderful it was.

But she was watching it alone.

In her peace, she found she wanted one thing, and the one thing was something her god likely couldn't grant her. Not that she would blame him, no. After all, it was something she could grant herself.

What she wanted was to be by her husband's side. To tell him, in the afterlife, that they had a son. That their son found love. That their love has blossomed into a plentiful tree that will carry the evidence of their bond for generations to come.

She wanted her Gao Cheng (高成 - Gāo Chéng).

However, simply wasting away wasn't her style.

So, even from her bed, she continued to give directions. She fulfilled her duties, passing more of them over to her son as the seasons rolled onwards. Winter, spring, summer, fall...she watched the seasons pass through her window as Han Miyun ensured her comfort.

One day, they bring her outside using a wheeled chair, some new invention by a mystery developer. Though her legs had grown too weak to carry her any longer, she was still able to breathe in the cool, dewy air.

Growing old like this was such a luxury. And, soon, perhaps after another winter or two, she'd be able to relay her long journey with the one man she loved romantically in all her life.

--

There isn't much time.

He can feel it, when he pays attention.

Like a light is flickering in the corner of his eyes.

He has to hurry.

He bought her some time, sending the wheelchair design to get her out of her house and prevent her from growing too used to the fugue state of being bedridden.

Though having time outside may have given some oxygen to her flame, it was still going to go out.

Such was the case of mortals. Lest they cultivated, they had no chance to extend their lives. Their souls would return to the cycle.

She's leaving soon.

She's leaving soon.

He doesn't...

He doesn't want her to leave alone.

If he can speak to her one last time.

Just one last time—

He needs this, he realizes.

He needs to see her again.

When did she become so important to him?

When did he become okay with them growing apart?

Was he ever okay with it?

Or did he just retreat into himself so it hurt less?

Why did the thought of leaving her behind hurt so much...ah.

Wasn't she the one leaving him behind? Why did he think it...

Ah. Wrong face.

Wrong person.

They look so much alike when he thinks about it.

Fan Zhenzhen, and the girl he sometimes sees when he's knitting or sewing.

...

One last time.

Please, just one last time.

Let him do it right.

--

Zhuzi waits by the entrance of the cave with her hands tucked into her sleeves. The other spiders cannot be too close. The swirling and spiking of qi is too much for them. Even Zhuzi is sweating, keeping her mind afloat despite the raging energy inside.

However, she knows this feeling well. She, too, rushed to cultivate a humanoid form.

When Dage could not attend the human wedding, he had been upset.

He never expressed it outwardly, but she could feel it. The days leading up to it, he had murmured about attendance, only to talk himself out of it each time. He was a large and strong spider. The humans wouldn't be able to handle him at such an occasion.

So, she attended, as closely as she could. But even that was quite distant.

She saw the food they ate, the festivities, the gleaming lights and dances...

She was interested. Surely Dage was also interested. But he was busy, and she, less so.

He was so busy, perhaps because he made himself busy. He threw himself into being occupied, so much so that he receded into himself in cultivation.

She knew of the very few humans and demons that made a comfortable warmth flow from his body. When they spent more time away, the warmth became less frequent. ...What was that feeling? Why was the warmth going away?

Perhaps she rushed to make a humanoid form, to discover what this feeling was, but it worked out in the end. She tamed her roiling qi and formed something reasonable enough. And, after watching humans and their habits, she clothed herself despite not needing to, and she walked down from Dage's sacred webs.

The human woman that produced the most warmth from him looked different now. Her hair had turned from black to grey, and she had wrinkles in her soft, easy-to-puncture skin (she wasn't sure she would ever get used to their lack of exoskeleton). Her steps were less sure, but her stance and countenance was firm as ever.

Whenever she returned from a visit to the human village and told the story to Dage, despite being on 'autopilot', the warmth would flow through and out of him once more, if just for a little while.

But the warm, sun-like lady was dying. Once she died, Zhuzi wouldn't be able to tell Dage anymore stories about her. That's why she interrupted his 'autopilot'.

And just like her, he, too, began to rush.

However, unlike her, he'd been cultivating quietly for 20 years. It took him less time to solidify his new, secondary exoskeleton.

The rampant energy sucks inward...and then releases in a calm wave. A mere breeze, smelling like fresh silk and dewdrops.

And then, she heard skittering.

A great presence, more imposing than ever before, was clicking its way toward the cave's entrance at great speed.

However, before it could rush out, Zhuzi stepped in front of it, spreading her arms out to the sides to block its way.

Thankfully, it...he stopped.

"...Dage."

He stares at her for a moment. Then, like returning to consciousness, his body relaxes as his joints uncoil.

"Ah, Zhuzi."

"Dage, where are you going?"

"Mm? I'm heading down to see Fan Zhenzhen. It's been much too long since I saw her last. And Ruoxing, too. How much longer do I need to wait for them to visit? Aiyah, it's like they've forgotten me. Though, I know they haven't. So, I will go to see them."

"Mm. I understand. But Dage, you cannot go unclothed."

"Unclothed? ...Ah. Right. Yes, humans do wear clothes, don't they?"

He gets up off of his hands, the limbs on his back receding into his body. His legs, bent much like a mosquito's...or perhaps a dog's...straightened somewhat as he stood on them, his long feet ending in two blackened, fuzzy toes. Long black hair flowed down his body like a river, even covering his face. However, he seemed to be able to see just fine.

As he lifted his head further, she could see why.

"I suppose I should make some, then."

[glitchlight]

Oh No! I got mad about something someone I dont know posted on the internet and I am brooding and angry about it! Instead of posting I will relax and reflect and do something more productive like:

Scuba diving

Yoga

National Park Travelers Club

Becoming A Nudist

Jigsaw puzzles

Wikipedia editing

Inventing A Time Machine

Woodworking

Masturbating

Succumbing To The Amulet

Genealogy

Masturbating

Dark Alchemy

Robot combat

Bungee jumping

Electronics repair

Beekeeping

Lego sets

Shuffleboard

Slacklining

Eating Lugnuts Off The Cars In the Walmart Parking Lot

Photography

Metalworking

Hacking

Golfing

Paintball

Transcending the Limitations of Flesh

Welding

Thrifting

Sleeping

Abolishing The Division of Night and Day

Pet fostering

Meteorology

Getting Gone

Bowling

Dumpster Diving

Book collecting

Amateur radio

Meditating On My Uncountable Failures

Weaving

Ice skating

Graphic design

Brewing

Masturbating

Car racing

Stealing

Camping

Teaching Crows How To Commit Tax Fraud

Getting Really Good At Beatboxing

Cooking

Getting My Stink Salted

Bird watching

Crocheting

Gymnastics

Screaming Into the Night Sky At God

Metal detecting

Masturbating

Driving Off A Bridge

Sleeping

Thinking about Masturbating

Revisiting Classics To See If They Hold Up

Origami

Drinking

Masturbating

Billiards

Chess

Sleeping

Geocaching

Bread making

Launching rockets

Calligraphy

Archery

Jewelry making

Smoking

Video games

Needlepoint

Water skiing

Animal breeding

Stealing

Podcasting

Fantasy sports

Learning Spanish

Wine tasting

Backpacking

Getting Way Too Into Sports

Alchemy

Karaoke

Stealing

Traveling

Turning Straight Women Gay

Taxidermy

Masturbating

Horseback riding

Fishing

Being a DJ

Quilting

Juggling

Record collecting

Baking

Glassblowing

Drones

Stealing Infant Teeth

Crossfit

Improvisation

Attuning Myself To Crystals For the Purposes of Psychic Attacks

Drinking

Playing a musical instrument

Stand-up comedy

Throwing Myself Into A Volcano

Skiing

Remote cars

Bonsai

Furniture restoration

Quitting While I'm Ahead

Drinking

Writing

Smoking

Meterology

Local historical society

Disappearing In A Mysterious Accident

Assassination

Painting

Handball

Masturbating

Cheese-making

Martial arts

Astronomy

App making

Table tennis

Web design

Letting All The Demons Out of Hell

Farming

Hiking

Home improvement projects

Swimming

Skydiving

Volunteering

Animal grooming

Forbidden Alchemy

Remote airplanes

Gardening

Burying A Bunch Of Eggs

Becoming The Worlds Preeminent White Maoist

Digging A Hole To The Center of the Earth

Trivia

Journaling

Video production

Masturbating

Drinking

Crossword puzzles

Vehicle restoration

Candle-making

Drinking

Reading

Art collecting

Drawing

Makeup

Smoking

Running

Dancing On the Graves of My Enemies

Sleeping

Kayaking

Poetry

Knitting

Sleeping

Designing clothing

Sailing

Acting

Rock climbing

Disc golfing

Scrapbooking

Winemaking

Wood burning

Running Away

Museum visiting

Pottery

Escape rooms

Soap making

LARPing

Freestyling

Flying

Smoking

Snowboarding

Board games

Just Eating A Bunch of Candy

Surfing

Masturbating

Mixology

Smoking

Card games

Kite surfing

Masturbating

Composting

Dancing

Creating The Perfect French Fry

Powerlifting

Model trains

The Rites And Rituals Forbidden To Me

Movie reviews

Frisbee Wizardry

[dxrlingluv]

Apollo with a sea nymph reader.. Apollo is interested in reader and she knows so she subtlety teases him and Apollo's getting pent up... So they get freaky :3

Tease

A/N: DAYUM. Art / Design is from/based off from Gigi on YT! The sun thingies are from@cafekitsune.

WARNING : Smut, friends to lovers, Fem!Reader but honestly no gender was mentioned as long as you have a hole then it’s a goal. Sea Nymph!Reader. Apollo is hot.

Word Count : 1.5k

The echoes of the God Games still reverberated through Olympus, not as a grand competition, but as a tense council, a gathering of immense power where fates were decided and destinies were shaped. Apollo, having played his part in the deliberations regarding Odysseus's fate, now sought a different kind of release, a different kind of connection. The weight of divine decisions, the intricate web of alliances and disagreements, left him yearning for something more personal, more...real. But with you, Y/N, it was always personal.

You and Apollo were...friends. An unlikely pair, perhaps. He, the radiant god of light and music, impeccably stylish and effortlessly charming, and you, a sea nymph with a penchant for playful chaos and a surprisingly goofy sense of humor. You found his godly seriousness both amusing and endearing, and he found your irreverent nature...intoxicating.

He'd watched you during the God Games council. While the other gods postured and debated, you'd sent him knowing glances, your E/C eyes sparkling with mischief, a silent commentary on the proceedings that only he seemed to understand. You were a refreshing counterpoint to the pomp and circumstance of Olympus, a reminder that even gods could benefit from a little levity.

The Aegean, now a temporary sanctuary after the weighty decisions of the divine council, shimmered under the fading light. The sun, Apollo's domain, dipped towards the horizon, painting the sky in breathtaking hues of oranges, purples, and golds. But tonight, the beauty of the sunset felt secondary, a backdrop to the more compelling presence that awaited him.

He arrived at the rocky outcropping not in his usual grand chariot, but with a subtle shift of golden light, a testament to his mastery and his focused intent. He moved with a newfound quietness, a deliberate grace that was less about divine display and more about a focused desire...for you. The scent of salt and sea roses, always a potent aphrodisiac, tonight felt charged, heightened by the awareness of your presence, by the unspoken desires that crackled between you like playful lightning.

You emerged from the water, Y/N, your form as captivating as any melody he'd ever composed, a living embodiment of the ocean's raw beauty and untamed power. Your H/C hair, still damp from the sea, cascaded around you like a silken curtain, clinging to your curves, catching the fading light and turning it into a thousand shimmering, iridescent jewels. Every movement was a deliberate, sensual ballet, a performance designed to captivate him, a display of the untamed power that resided within you, a power that both amused and aroused him. Your E/C eyes, reflecting the fading sunlight, held a spark of playful defiance, a hint of the potent energy he'd sensed during the God Games council, a power that both intrigued and frustrated him.

"Well, hello there, golden boy," you greeted him, your voice a melodic whisper that carried the subtle undercurrent of the waves, a siren's song laced with playful familiarity. "Escaping the divine committee meeting? Did Zeus finally let you have a word, or did you just get tired of all the 'blah blah Odysseus'?" You punctuated your question with an exaggerated yawn and a dramatic eye roll, a clear jab at the seriousness of the proceedings.

Apollo stepped closer, his lips twitching into a reluctant smile. He couldn't help but be charmed by your irreverence. "You have no respect for the gravity of the situation, do you, little nymph?" he said, his voice a smooth, resonant baritone, laced with a playful exasperation that barely concealed the heat simmering beneath.

You grinned, splashing him playfully with a flick of your wrist. "Gravity's overrated. Besides, someone had to lighten the mood. All that talk of prophecies and monsters was giving me a headache. Much prefer the company of handsome gods with a good sense of humor." You winked, the gesture deliberately provocative.

He sighed, running a hand through his golden hair. "You are incorrigible," he muttered, but the corner of his mouth betrayed him. He was trying to maintain his godly composure, but you were slowly dismantling it, piece by playful piece.

"Incorrigible? Is that sexual frustration I hear, Apollo?" you teased, stepping closer, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. You knew exactly what buttons to push, and you weren't afraid to push them.

His eyes darkened. "You have no idea," he growled, the playful exasperation replaced with a raw, undeniable hunger. He reached out, his hand hovering near your waist, the heat radiating from him like a tangible force.

You arched an eyebrow, your smile widening into a knowing, seductive curve. "Oh, I have a few ideas," you purred, your gaze locking with his. "And I have a feeling you're about to show me just how right I am."

He closed the distance between you, the air crackling with the unspoken tension that had been building between you for...well, for longer than either of you cared to admit. "You tease me, Y/N," he said, his voice a low rumble. "You push me to the edge, and then you just...smile."

"Maybe I like you on the edge," you whispered, your fingers tracing the edge of his stylized armor, the touch sending a jolt of electricity through him. "Maybe I like the way you look when you're losing control."

His control snapped. He pulled you to him, his lips crashing against yours in a kiss that was both demanding and desperate, a release of all the playful tension, all the pent-up desire.

You gasped, your playful demeanor shifting, replaced by a breathless surrender. The tables had turned. The teasing was over. This was something else entirely.

He deepened the kiss, his hands roaming your body, exploring the curves that had haunted his dreams since the God Games council. He could feel your pulse racing beneath his touch, the heat radiating from your skin.

You moaned, the sound lost in the intensity of the kiss, your hands gripping his shoulders, your body trembling with a mixture of fear and anticipation. This wasn't the goofy banter you were used to. This was Apollo, the god, the dominant force, and it was...overwhelmingly arousing.

He broke the kiss, his breath hot against your skin. "Here, Y/N," he murmured, his voice a husky plea, a possessive command. "Now. Will you let me show you what happens when you push a god too far? Will you let me show you the consequences of your teasing?"

You swallowed, your usually sharp wit failing you. You were flustered, breathless, completely at his mercy. "Yes," you whispered, your voice trembling. "Please."

He lifted you into his arms with effortless strength, his golden eyes burning with a possessive fire. He carried you towards a secluded alcove nestled within the ancient rocks, a hidden sanctuary where the sand was soft and yielding, and the shadows danced with an alluring mystery.

He laid you down gently, his gaze sweeping over your trembling form. "You're beautiful," he said, his voice thick with desire. "So beautiful. And you're mine."

He shed his stylized armor, the celestial metal falling away with a soft whisper, revealing the sculpted perfection of his divine form. He was a vision of masculine beauty, a god claiming his due.

He knelt before you, his hands tracing your curves, his touch both reverent and possessive. He kissed your neck, your collarbone, the hollow of your throat, each kiss a brand, marking you as his.

"Apollo..." you moaned, your hands reaching for him, your fingers tangling in his golden hair.

"Hush, little nymph," he whispered, his voice a low rumble. "Let me show you."

He moved between your legs, his gaze locking with yours, a silent command, a promise of exquisite pleasure.

"I..." you started, but he cut you off with another deep, searing kiss.

He entered you slowly, filling you completely. You cried out, the sound a mixture of pleasure and surrender, a primal scream that echoed across the silent shore.

"Tight," he groaned, his hands gripping your hips. "So tight. So good. So warm. So perfect- ah~."

He began to move, his thrusts deep and powerful, driving you both higher and higher. You were no longer in control. You were his, completely and utterly.

"Yes, Apollo," you gasped, your nails digging into his back. "Harder...faster...please..."

"Anything for you," he growled, his voice rough with passion. "Anything to make you mine, to claim you completely."

The world dissolved into a kaleidoscope of sensations. The taste of salt and ambrosia, the scent of sea roses and his divine musk, the feel of his skin against yours, the sound of your combined moans.

You climaxed together, a wave of pure ecstasy that shattered the boundaries between you. Your bodies convulsed, your souls intertwined, your essence merging into one.

He collapsed on top of you, his body heavy but welcome. He kissed you deeply, his love and passion evident in every touch.

"Mine," he murmured against your lips. "You're mine now."

You could only nod, your usually witty tongue tied. You were breathless, sated, and utterly, completely his.

[bstandsforbabydaddy]

Spider Mouth: Web-swinging around in her purple and blue specialized spandex full body suit with a hybrid spider on the front torso, mask included. Soon enough, on one of her web-swings, where her web is attached to it happens to be just weak enough to start giving out and causes her to crash into him.

Whoa! Uh oh! Careful!

*Peter catches Spider Mouth in his arms mid-swing, not sure where this spandex-clad...hero? Baddie? Something. Came from, aside from the sky.*

Webbing malfunction?

*he shifts so she's supported by one arm as he swings them up to the nearest roof. He's head-to-toe in black, the only white on his lenses and the spider-shaped design on his chest.*

[inkdrinkerworld]

mornings

synopsis: sunshine!reader is not sunshine-y early in the morning, and miguel finds it very cute

cw: fluff, i think that's it, gn!reader [i think i only use they but no gendered pronouns]

It’s amusing to Miguel- this little portion of your personality.

He’d been surprised the first time he was over at your apartment and it was time to wake up- but now, a little over three weeks after that initial day, you’re at his apartment and he’s come to realise that this is your ‘allotted grumpy time.’

He’s been fiddling with some sketches for new suits and new transportation centres for the anomalies that you find as the sun rises. 

Miguel’s an early riser- something he’s sure you’ve attributed to his grumpy disposition. Always telling him, ‘It’s because you don’t let your body rest so you get grumpy halfway through the morning’.

Your alarm is going to go off in ten minutes and he finds that he’s eagerly awaiting it. 

The soft tunes of waves crashing comes from your phone; your groan follows it immediately. Miguel bites back a smile. 

You’re facing the halfway opened curtains, little streams of light pouring through the window as the sun stretches to the top of the sky. Miguel suspects that doesn’t help you fall back asleep as you try burying your face back into your pillows. 

“Sol,” he whispers, pencil in one hand as the other scratches at the nape of your neck. “Es hora de despertar.” 

Your hand finds his at the back of your head and you remove it with a little more force than he had been expecting. 

“No,” simple and final.

He leaves you be, knowing you’ve another alarm in five minutes that usually does the trick. As Miguel waits for it, he moves to his kitchen, setting the kettle to boil. 

Your grumbles find him in the kitchen and he smiles at how annoyed you sound. 

You stomp your way to the bathroom, and ten minutes later you emerge wrapped in your towel, your face is glossy so Miguel can only assume you’ve showered and done your skincare routine. 

Your frown doesn’t go away though.

“You alright there, grumpy?” he asks as he catches a glimpse of you getting dressed. 

“M’not grumpy,” you deny as you put on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top- as a second thought you pull a sweater off the hanger and drape it over your arm. You don’t have much tactical training today, so you’re opting for comfort. “S’early.” 

Miguel meets you in the living room with a mug of tea for you and one of coffee for himself. “You set your alarm, Sol.” he reminds you and you cast a scathing glare at him. He wants to laugh because you look the exact opposite of scary.

No one would believe him if he even muttered the words, ‘Oh they're not a morning person,’ or if he even insinuated that you could be grumpy. Not even Lyla. 

“How are you not grumpy?” you ask him as you take the mug from him and take a sip. 

Miguel shrugs, setting his coffee down as he gets a pair of socks and your shoes for you. 

“Maybe we’ve swapped places for the day,” it’s unnatural even for him to say but it pulls a snort from you and that makes him feel a sense of accomplishment.

“Or maybe you’re an anomaly,” you joke, reaching a finger to pinch and poke at his cheek as he fits your socks and shoes on for you. Miguel bites the tip of your finger as it comes close to his lips, smiling when you let out a gasp that turns to a giggle. 

“Ready?” He finishes off his coffee with a couple sips as he waits for you to pack your tote bag- it’s filled with mostly tactile stuff, like your crochet needles and yarn, a sketchbook and one of the little cubes that Miguel had designed to help with your thinking, and then your tablet with all your notes on it. 

“Miguel?” 

“Yes?” He holds the door open for you. 

“Do you think you could help me with the new design for the web shooters? Something’s off, but I’m not sure what.” 

He grabs his own tablet and a yoghurt freezie and hands it to you. 

“I can, amor. Will you come have lunch with me or will you be with Jess and Margo?” 

You laugh at how offended he sounds, “No I’ll have lunch with you. You missed me too much yesterday. Lyla told me how you were even grumpier than usual.” you’ve already eaten half of the freezie when you reach the elevator. Miguel only shakes his head, plotting to figure out a way to get Lyla to not tell you everything about him.

[solbaby7]

Put On A Show

pairing: Rhysand x reader

warnings: smut, exhibitionism, explicit language, some light degradation, i couldn’t help myself guys sorry

Summary: Rhysand brings you along as a plus one to a celebration at the Court of Nightmares and you put on a special show for your High Lord

—

High Lord of the Court of Nightmares.

Lord of Night.

Death Incarnate.

There’s no place for the teasing smiles, the playful jokes or restrained power here. All the things of Rhysand that you’d grown accustomed to was swapped out for that arrogant smirk, the pristine elegance of his attire that exuded centuries of wealth but beyond all of that; his most noticeable accessory was the ebbing darkness that seemed to loom around him. “I’m sorry for how I talk to you down there. I can’t—they can’t see me that way.”

“I promise I won’t take it personally,” You’d told him, meaning it no matter how high your brows shot up when he’d sheepishly handed over your outfit for the night.

If you could call it that.

It was basically see though, soft fabric just barely covering your breasts, criss-crossing at the stomach before settling into a skirt that barely covered your backside when you walked. Rhys had insisted on a little precaution, waving a hand and covering you in tattoos so dark it looked like the night sky was plucked from above and stamped into your skin. The intricate designs didn’t move when you touched them but anytime you’d accidentally brushed into Azriel or bumped shoulders with Mor, the ink smeared. “You marking me or something?”

It was meant as a joke but he’s serious when he answers. “Yes.”

Your roll falls into place when you’re winnowed to the front entrance of the Hewn City and instantly you understand why none of the Inner Circle came here much. The air smelled of mischief; chaos bled from the windows and greed reared its head when the High Lord sauntered through the front doors like he owned the place—he did.

The shift in the room happens quickly, guards dressed to the tee in heavy armor and swords sharp enough to disembowel with one sickening swing; men who’d fought in great battles and devastating wars, bowing to their knees at the sight of him.

This version of Rhysand eats it up, chin high and nose higher as he looked down on each and every person in attendance. Gone was the male with great dreams of peace and prosperity; dreams of a place where people of all types called home without fear of it being ripped from them at any moment.

This version of Rhysand was the fear.

He was the darkness that lurked around at night, waiting and watching patiently for his victims to slip up so he could reach out and capture them in his dark web. “All of this, for me?” The High Lords voice clears across the room easily with everyone so silent, heads bowed and the few who’d bravely raised their eyes to feast on a slice of your skin was met with the silent threat of death by the shadowsinger that followed your flank. “I’m flattered.”

The High Lord sits comfortably in his thrown, legs spread wide and arms lazily spread out on the sides. For the first time since you’d gotten here, he looks at you, beckoning you forward with a cocky little jerk of his head and only when you stand before him does he allow the others to rise. “You sit.” He tells you though, gesturing proudly to the spot on his lap and you resist the urge to see other people’s reactions when you obey.

Despite the dark ambiance, something about the unsettling atmosphere intrigued you; eyes catching over carefully carved dragons with wings that seemed never-ending as it curved around the walls, the crown moulding and ceiling like it was preparing to take flight and burst through the roof. The citizens of the Hewn City, you find are equally as unsettling; groups of people coming up to bow and greet their High Lord, shamelessly taking in the ample curves left on display by your flimsy attire. “Pretty, isn’t she?” The Lord of Darkness questions after a moment, violet eyes fixed on the curve of your spine before settling on the armored male to the left.

The male swallows thickly, his gulp audible when he nods just barely. “Yes, High Lord.”

Rhys hummed in agreement, the back of his hand beginning to trace the curve of your shoulder when you hear some muffled voice coughing out “whore”. The touch leaves and that ebbing darkness grows again, robbing the man who’d dare utter the syllables of his breath. The man’s hands reach for his throat, eyes wide as his mouth gapes open and closed like a fish plucked out of the water and you don’t place your hand on the High Lords chest until the man’s face is a unusual shade of blue. “Aw, let him go. He’s just mad you’ve got me all to yourself,” You lean in closer, voice sultry and a little bored when you settle deeper into his chest. “Poor bastard probably doesn’t even know what to do with his equipment under all that armor.”

Another best of time passes before you hear the desperate gasp behind you and the feeling that washes over you when seeing the part of Rhysand he kept hidden—the all powerful Lord of Destruction ready to ruin anyone in his way.

Lust.

The man is forgotten, carried away by his friends and briefly you notice Cassian and Mor drifting off into the crowd. Azriel remains close by, a healthy enough distance away for you to feel confident enough to grind down on the thick thigh between your legs.

“You should stop that,” The words rumble against your bare back a half a minute later, hands dripping tight at your hips to still the movements. “Unless you plan on giving them a show.”

A brow raises and your neck craned to look Rhysand in the eye, the smirk pulling on your mouth matching the same one he’d seen every time he stepped foot in this city of violence and deviant morals. “Would that please you, Lord of Darkness?”

Rhysand goes still and for a moment you expect him to deny you, hands bracing yourself to get off and apologize when his grip keeps you in place. You can’t look away when he drags your hips on his thigh the same way you had before, inky pupils devouring violet irises when you let out a breathy moan.

It captures attention and you notice Azriel step a little closer—for further protection or to watch you can’t tell and you don’t care to figure it out when a shudder runs up your spine at the delicious drag hard muscles against your clothed cunt.

Your body burns with want when your High Lord grabs a handful of your ass, forcing you to ride his thigh faster, moans spilling out like summons to the dark creatures that lurked about the Court of Nightmares. “You look so pretty like this,” His voice is gruff, raspy and he’s quick to call upon dark power, a cool sensation spreading over your skin where it touched.

“Fuck,” The curse drags on your tongue, eyes clamping shut when your orgasm washes over you, no longer caring about the eyes that burned holes into your body. No doubt every fae or creature alike could smell the scent of your arousal permeating the air but where embarrassment was supposed be was relief.

The bulge in the High Lords pants is evident, a hand sneaking down to cup it through the expensive fabric. “You think the citizens of the Hewn City want to watch their High Lord fuck his girl?”

The sound of a button popping open, a zipper sliding down and a hand settles around your throat. “Deliciously filthy thing, you are.” The top of your dress falls apart and you’re certain Azriel can see everything when Rhysand fished his cock free. “Let’s find out.”

[aliaskeefh]

where in the world 843 - sunset over cable beach ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐ by KeefH Hellinger Via Flickr: shot by KHWD many more available on my travel blog websites, see in my ABOUT for link, thx Kx originally shot 18/5/2008, uploaded 6/3/24, reinvigorated after much interest. Want to see more? www.holiday2007-8.co.uk/